The principal building is the hippodrome, which was tolerably perfect, and I took some pains to measure it accurately, which occupied me about two hours. There was nothing else worthy of remark, although there were numerous fragments of buildings scattered around. I met a Turkish Aga, handsomely accoutred and well mounted, attended by a servant, who watched my movements with considerable attention, and politely accosted me. Having finished my work, I mounted and galloped off to the place of my rendezvous as quickly as possible. Passing through the adjacent forest I observed something like hammocks slung to the trees about 10 or 12 feet from the ground; these, I learned, were the sleeping places of the shepherds who attended their flocks in the neighbourhood, and as there were no habitations near, they slept in these hammocks to keep themselves out of the influence of the malaria, which is very fatal in these parts.

About sunset I reached my destination, which was situated at the head of a valley surrounded by lofty mountains. There was a cluster of miserable mud huts, but no place fit to sleep in, so Demetrius was obliged to take possession of an open shed, with a bare mud hut adjoining, in which he placed the baggage, spread my mattress in the shed, and laid out the table attached to my canteen in the open air in front, upon which he had got ready a tolerably good supper. This canteen, it should be mentioned, was a very smart affair; all the utensils were plated on the outside and gilt on the inside, and, being quite new, had a very stylish and attractive appearance: it was much finer than I wanted, and had been sent out from England by my brother. No sooner had I sat down to supper, than I was surrounded by a considerable number of Kurds, wild-looking fellows, armed to the teeth, who had come from their own country with their flocks, for the rich pasture which this country afforded. Their encampment was close by. They appeared very friendly, and admired my turn-out with great satisfaction, thinking, no doubt, that it was real gold and silver. I treated them very courteously, gave them wine, coffee, and tobacco, for which they appeared very thankful, and we parted, as I thought, excellent friends. It was a fine summer evening, and soon after became dark. The Kurds retired with many thanks, and being tired I lay down for the night on my mattress without taking off my clothes, whilst Demetrius and the other servants were in front, and the horses picketed before them, having only their girths slackened, so that we were ready for a start at any alarm. I examined my pistols, my men did the same, and we all retired; but I was very restless and feverish, and could not sleep, although excessively weary. I was continually roused by the barking of the great mastiffs which were kept by the shepherds to drive off the wolves and panthers in the vicinity. At last, towards midnight, I fell fast asleep. I awoke all of a sudden to find two fierce-looking Kurds by my side, one with a pistol close to my head, the other flaring a lighted torch in my face, with one hand thrust under my pillow, to steal my purse and valuables. I sat up directly and secured my pistols; seeing this, the fellow with the pistol pulled the trigger, but fortunately it only flashed in the pan. I at once fired. I think I hit him somewhere, for he uttered a loud cry, and instantly took to flight with his companion. My men awoke at the noise, jumped up directly, and fired also. By this time we were surrounded by the Kurds, and had a hand-to-hand fight for a few minutes, when I called to my men to mount and gallop off as quickly as possible. I did the same, and off we went at full speed, leaving the baggage behind. We could do no other, for by this time the whole tribe was on the alert; they came running to the help of their companions, and commenced firing at us. Fortunately it was hardly daylight, and they could not see us clearly. In order to avoid the shots that whistled past us, we crouched down upon our saddles, and soon got out of their reach. They did not follow us, either being deterred by the stout resistance we had made, or being satisfied with the booty which they had got. To have remained longer would have been madness, for we should soon have been overpowered, and probably all murdered, as there were at least thirty or forty of them, and we were only five. We never pulled bridle until we had made about six or eight miles; it was then broad daylight, and the sun was just rising above the horizon; we continued, however, at a smart pace, passing through a rich and partially cultivated valley, until, about seven o’clock in the morning, we reached a small town, where the Aga, or Turkish Governor of the district resided. Here we stopped at the caravanserai, tolerably tired with our morning’s ride of about seventeen miles, and heartily thankful for our providential escape. After a good wash, and breakfast, I sent my janissary, a gallant fellow, to demand an audience of the Aga, which he granted at midday. I went accordingly, showed my firman, and then related my story by means of an interpreter. The Aga was a fine-looking man, about forty, surrounded by his divan and a number of well-armed Tartars and guards. He listened to my tale with the utmost gravity and attention, and then burst out into a violent rage at the indignity which I had suffered, and said that such an insult to an English gentleman had never occurred before in his district, and he would lose no time in bringing the offenders to justice. He was most particular in inquiring as to the place where the offence had occurred, and the number and description of my assailants, and then ordered a strong body of well-armed and well-mounted Tartars to the place, with strict orders to bring them to him immediately; in the meantime he ordered coffee and pipes to be served, and offered me any money I required. He also asked me where I was going. I told him that I was going southwards for two or three days. He then said that upon my return he should be happy to see me again, when he would have all the culprits in custody for me, and if I could identify them he would have their heads taken off directly. I took my leave, with many thanks for his courtesy; to which he replied, with the greatest civility, that he was too happy to be of any service to an Englishman. I left soon afterwards, and crossed another mountain ridge, passing through a wild, desolate country, and descended into a fertile valley, through which a small river wound its tortuous course. On the way I examined the ruins of the ancient Priene, seated on a hill on the right side of the valley. Here I saw considerable remains of some temples of the Ionic order, besides the relics of numerous other buildings, which it was very difficult to define. This city was surrounded by a strong wall of massive masonry, considerable remains of which were visible. We crossed the river by a ford, and took up our quarters for the night amongst the ruins of Miletus. There were only a few scattered wretched hovels in the vicinity, but none of them fit for our accommodation; I therefore preferred the open air, and determined to bivouac amongst the ruins; as I had already provided myself and my people with mattresses and coverlets, and a good supply of provisions, I felt myself comfortable and independent. I was roused about daybreak by something tugging hard at my pillow; upon jumping up I descried a large wolf close by, with several more near him. I immediately laid hold of a stout stick, and dealt him a heavy blow on the head. This aroused Demetrius and the servants, who fired several shots at the other wolves, and they all scampered off as quickly as possible, so that we had no further molestation.

Early in the morning I set about examining the ruins, of which there were but few; the principal was the theatre, but even of this, except some massive walls, there was little remaining. I made a sketch, with the Lake Bofi and the mountains behind it for a background, the whole forming a very beautiful picture. We then went on to Yirondi, which we reached about four o’clock in the afternoon, and got comfortable quarters in the caravanserai. The next morning I proceeded to examine the ruins of the celebrated Temple of Apollo Didymæus. This is one of the largest and most magnificent specimens of the Ionic order, and well worthy of the attention of every traveller who takes an interest in architecture. I was much pleased with and instructed by it. Of the front columns several were still standing, and numerous fragmentary blocks of pillars, entablature, pediment, and substructure lay scattered all around, the whole being of the most elaborate workmanship. When entire it must have been a very magnificent work of art, as the remains evidently show.

After finishing my examination, I determined to return to Smyrna as quickly as possible, having much to do before my tour was completed. I accordingly started soon after midday, although the weather was very hot, and the next day I sent my janissary to request an audience of the Aga, which he granted me at midday. He then said that he had captured all the Kurds, and ordered them to be brought from the prison. Accordingly the whole of them, amounting to about thirty in number, were produced, and marched before me slowly, when the Aga asked me if I could recognize any of them, in which case he would take care that justice should be administered. I was pretty well aware what this justice would be, namely, that their heads would be taken off if I recognized them. I certainly remembered several of their faces, but having been robbed only of a few articles, worth about eighty pounds, I did not consider that the punishment of death could be put in comparison with my loss, although it is true they would have murdered me if they could. I therefore resolved to save them, as they had already suffered sufficiently by being confined in a miserable dungeon with scarcely any food for four days. They were accordingly discharged, having been, as I understood, pretty well punished, in addition to their imprisonment, by heavy fines, and perhaps sundry stripes into the bargain, so that it was not likely that they would attack an Englishman again. The Tartars had recovered several of my lost things; for this I made them a handsome acknowledgment, with which they were much pleased, and gave me many thanks. I also rendered my best thanks to the Aga, and we parted upon the most amicable terms.

Having returned to Smyrna, I there met my friend Scott, whom I had previously known at Athens, and we resolved to proceed at once to Constantinople by land. The first night we reached the modern Magnesia, a large town situated on a plain, surrounded by rude crenellated walls, inhabited chiefly by a Turkish population, and containing nothing worthy of remark. The following morning we proceeded through an open undulating country, very fertile, but, as usual, only partially cultivated. Here and there were extensive plains, some only tenanted by shepherds tending their large flocks of goats, cattle, and sheep, others growing cotton, maize, corn, beans, and tobacco, occasionally interspersed with vineyards; the inhabitants looked poor and miserable, and the villages and towns wore the same appearance.

After a long, hard day’s ride of eighteen hours, we came in sight of Broussa, the ancient capital of the Turks. The surrounding country was rich and beautiful, and covered with luxurious gardens, intermixed with comfortable villas and houses; the city, with its numerous mosques and towering minarets, lay in the foreground; whilst the magnificent Mount Olympus, above 7000 feet high, rearing his head above the clouds, formed a noble background. When within a mile of the city I felt very tired and thirsty. Just then a countryman approached, and offered us some bunches of magnificent grapes, which I accepted with much gratification, and gave him a handsome present. I devoured them voraciously. We reached the caravanserai at sunset, and as there were a great number of travellers, we got but poor accommodation. I awoke about three in the morning with a violent diarrhœa, which continually increased, until I became so exhausted that I could scarcely move. It turned out to be dysentery, and my friends considered that it must end fatally. Before leaving England I had consulted my friend, the late distinguished Dr. James Johnson, as to what was to be done under similar circumstances, and he recommended large doses of calomel as the only and best means of cure. I had provided myself with this, and took it accordingly, with the assistance of which I rallied considerably, and we then determined to proceed at once to Mondania, on the shores of the Sea of Marmora, where we should find much better accommodation. Off, therefore, we went, without being able to see anything further of the beauties of Broussa. I was much fatigued with the journey, and immediately after our arrival took to my bed. Here the dysentery came on more violently than ever. I again had recourse to a large dose of calomel, and ordered Demetrius to get some chicken broth as soon as possible. This the good fellow got ready without delay. I swallowed as much as I could, and then fell back on my mattress perfectly exhausted. I was delirious for four or five hours; but at the end of that time I broke out into a violent perspiration; the calomel had done its work effectually, and I became conscious and tranquil, although very weak. The disease, however, had been arrested, and I recovered rapidly.

I reached Constantinople at last by sea, and after a day or two of repose I regained my strength and sallied forth with a janissary to examine the Moslem capital. I first paid a visit to our ambassador, Mr. Frere. He received me most kindly, and asked me to dinner the next day. The entertainment was sumptuous, and I spent a delightful evening. I was afterwards frequently invited to this most hospitable house, and always received the same kind attention, ever returning from it both amused and instructed. Mr. Frere was a very accomplished, unassuming gentleman, ever ready to protect his countrymen; he discharged his onerous duties in such a manner as to gain the respect of the Turks (which was very difficult in those days), as well as that of the corps diplomatique and foreigners of every nation, and the respect and affection of his own countrymen. I also frequently visited the hospitable house of our worthy and most excellent Consul, General Cartwright. He was a man above the common order, and no one was better calculated to deal with the Turks; frank, open, courageous, honest, and decided, understanding thoroughly the people he had to deal with, and never flinching from his duties, firmly upholding his countrymen when right, but no less inflexible in refusing his support when wrong. He was hospitable and sociable to a degree, yet withal never neglected the least of his duties, and was universally respected and beloved.

Constantinople has been often described, and is now so well known that I need not weary my reader with any detailed description. But as I was there at a time when the reforms of the Sultan Mahmoud had not long commenced; when the janissaries were still in existence; when the old Turkish bigotry, insolence, and fanaticism was at its height; when the fierce vigour which had formerly carried out its conquests was nearly extinct, and European ideas and civilization had not yet dawned; when, in short, the Government was most corrupt, and the whole Turkish population sunk in indolence and sensuality, a few rough notes of what I then saw may perhaps not be unacceptable.

Amongst the sights during my short stay was the marriage of one of the Sultan’s daughters, which was made the occasion of great fêtes, and amongst others a grand tournament or display of djerid. This consisted of a number of horsemen extremely well mounted, each armed with a short blunted dart, which they hurled at one another, and those who received the greatest number of hits were declared to be losers The game was very exciting, and the display of horsemanship and the activity and skill of the riders were worthy of the highest admiration.

There was also another sight equally new and beautiful, the sultan proceeding in state to the mosque of St. Sophia during the Bairam. It was a very imposing spectacle, all the actors in it being clothed in the ancient picturesque costume—long flowing robes of endless variety of brilliant colours, furs, and turbans of every shape, those worn by the Sultan and his great officers mounted in gold and silver and studded with precious stones. The Sultan’s body guard consisted of about one hundred fine-looking men wearing dresses of the most brilliant colours, richly ornamented with gold embroidery, and having on their heads helmets of finely polished brass, surmounted by a crescent of the same metal, being three to four feet long, on the top of which were fixed plumes of the finest white ostrich feathers, flowing on all sides. The Sultan, clothed in a splendid dark sable pelisse, with a green turban ornamented with the plumes of a bird of paradise, set in a most costly diamond aigrette, rode in the midst of them, mounted on a magnificent pure white Arabian charger, covered with housings richly embroidered with gold. He was a very handsome, stern, dignified-looking man, about fifty, with sharp, piercing black eyes, moustache, and beard; his nose short and well developed, and a medium-sized, well-defined mouth; his whole appearance was very stately, grave, and solemn, expressing majesty, firmness, and courage. As the procession moved slowly, silently, and majestically along, through a dense mass of spectators, everyone was impressed with awe and admiration, and certainly it was one of the most unique and finest sights of the kind I had ever witnessed. I afterwards saw a review of several thousand of the Ottoman troops, consisting of infantry, cavalry, and artillery. These, though inferior in discipline and mechanical contrivances to European armies, nevertheless expressed a degree of fierce and enthusiastic courage, mixed with a thorough contempt of Christians, which inspired them with the confidence that they could overwhelm all their enemies, and plant the crescent over the cross with triumphant success.

Constantinople proper was inhabited chiefly by Turks imbued with the most bigoted hatred and contempt for Christians, and it was attended with not a little danger to go amongst them. As I walked boldly along I was frequently saluted by fierce scowls and curses loud and deep, and sometimes with a small shower of stones, which but for the presence of the janissary, whom they feared, might have been attended with serious consequences. These janissaries, a certain number of whom were attached to every embassy for their protection, were called pig-keepers by their comrades, who considered them as an inferior class. The streets for the most part were narrow, crooked, and dirty to a degree; here and there was a fine stone mansion, inhabited by some Turkish grandee, but this presented only a dead stone wall to the street. The population of the city generally looked poor, miserable, and oppressed. I tried to visit the mosques, but the fanaticism of the Ottomans was so great at that time that no Christian was permitted to enter, and I was more than once, when trying to penetrate the outer court of one of them, driven away by a shower of stones. On the arrival of a fresh ambassador from any Christian court a special firman, allowing him to visit the mosques, was issued, when the different strangers in Constantinople at the time were allowed to accompany him. The ambassador and suite on these occasions were always accompanied by a strong guard of janissaries, for protection. It happened that a little time previous to my visit the new Russian ambassador, Count Stroganoff, arrived, and obtained a special firman to visit the mosques, when he was accompanied by two or three hundred of his own countrymen and other strangers, attended by a strong guard of janissaries. Whilst in one of these edifices, a Frenchman, it is said, spat upon the pavement; immediately a cry of horror was uttered by the priests and assistants, the mosque was defiled; the alarm was raised, which spread like wildfire, and the place was quickly surrounded by a vast multitude of angry Turks, many of whom rushed into the mosque, shouting for vengeance on the infidels who had desecrated their temple, and attacking them with the most savage ferocity. The ambassador and his followers were obliged to defend themselves and fight for their lives. The doors were shut, and there they were obliged to remain until the Government sent another strong body of janissaries to rescue them from their perilous situation, which they did with the greatest difficulty; and whilst they were escorted back through the streets, they were assailed with yells, curses, and missiles of every description; many were seriously hurt, and they had some difficulty in escaping with their lives.

At Bouyukderé I spent several days at a comfortable Greek hotel, and was much amused at seeing two or three grave Turks enter the hotel one evening and engage a private room. For a time everything went on quietly. Then came a most tremendous noise, and shouts of all kinds; in fact, they were getting very drunk. Then all was silent, and I imagined they were senseless; but shortly after, to my great surprise, they sallied forth and entered their boat apparently quite sober. I afterwards asked the Greek waiter whether the water they had drunk had rendered them so noisy. He replied, laughing, “No; they had two bottles of rum apiece.” He said, farther, that it was their constant practice, especially during the Ramadan, to go prowling about in search of some quiet place where they might indulge. Knowing this, some of the proprietors of Greek inns, after closing the front door, left a private one open, and allowed none but Turks to enter, not even appearing themselves when they did. The Turks, seeing the coast clear, would enter, and presently find a room in which was a table covered with good things, both to eat and drink, whereupon they helped themselves liberally, and after leaving a handsome donation on the table, walked out as quietly as they came in, satisfied with having cheated their religion and satisfied their appetites without anyone being the wiser.

Constantinople is supplied with water from five reservoirs, situated on the western base of the Little Balkan Mountains, and communicating with the city by stone conduits. They were originally built by the Byzantine emperors, and their preservation was enforced by repeated imperial edicts, some of which are still preserved in the archives of Constantinople; a heavy fine was imposed, amounting to a pound of gold for every ounce of water taken from these reservoirs by any individual without express permission. The water for Pera is supplied from the southern reservoirs, near Bagtche, by means of a conduit, upon which are placed at certain intervals hollow stone columns, called sous terrasi, which rise to the level of the source from which the water is taken; the water in the conduit rises up these pillars nearly to the same level, and thus acts as a safety valve, overcoming the friction of the water in the conduit, forcing it forward to the level required at Pera, and so relieving the pressure upon the upper surface of the conduit, which otherwise would be blown up through such a long line, had it not a vent to relieve the pressure. This ingenious idea was the invention of the Turks, and was adopted for the purpose of saving the expense of the lofty stone aqueducts used by the Romans and their successors. Some expedient of this kind became inevitable, as they had no iron pipes large or strong enough. In modern times a similar device, called the stand-pipe, is occasionally employed to relieve the pumping engines; but such is not necessary along the line of the conduit, because the material of the conduit is made of cast iron of such dimensions that it is strong enough to more than amply resist the pressure of the highest column of water which it may be necessary to employ.

The whole of the sides of the mountains where the reservoirs are placed used formerly to be covered with dense woods, and when I visited the reservoirs in October, 1820, nothing could be more beautiful; but after the massacre of the janissaries, about a year and a half subsequent to my visit, a remnant took possession of the forest, and committed intolerable acts of brigandage, until the Ottoman Government, thoroughly roused, surrounded the entire forest with troops, and destroyed it and its inmates together. There is also a fine aqueduct, but there can be very little doubt that proper means are not taken during the rainy season to preserve and store the water nature then places at their disposal. If this were done, the serious evil of drought would be avoided; and means are now being taken to ensure a more constant and better supply. This scarcity of water, for the same reason, has been felt in London and other great cities. We shall continue to suffer from these droughts until men come to understand that only a certain and known quantity of water falls upon the earth, and that at certain periods; and that it is necessary to store the surplus waters to supply the deficiency of the dry season. This great truth is fortunately now beginning to be fully appreciated in the civilized world, and it is to be hoped that we shall no longer hear the cry of scarcity of water.

On leaving Constantinople I took passage in a native vessel for Alexandria. Passing down the Hellespont, at its narrowest point I remarked the positions selected by Xerxes for erecting his famous double bridge, or rather two bridges, one taking a north-west and the other a north-easterly direction. An ancient author, Polyænus, says “that they connected together a vast number of ships of different kinds—some long vessels of fifty oars, others three-banked galleys—to the number of three hundred and sixty, on the side towards the Euxine Sea, and three hundred and thirteen on that of the Hellespont. The former of these were placed transversely; but the latter, to diminish the strain upon the cables, in the direction of the current. When these vessels were firmly fastened to each other, they were secured on each side by anchors of great strength—on the upper side, towards the winds which set in from the Euxine; on the lower side, towards the Ægean Sea, on account of the south and south-east winds. They left, however, openings in three places sufficient to afford a passage for the light vessels which might have occasion to sail into the Euxine or from it. Having done this, they extended cables from the shore, stretching them upon large capstans of wood. For this purpose they did not employ a number of separate cables, but united two of white flax with two of byblos. These were alike in thickness, and apparently so in goodness; but those of flax were in proportion much the more solid, weighing not less than a talent to every cubit. When the passage was thus secured, they sawed out rafters of wood, making their length equal to the space required for the bridge. These they laid in order across upon the extended cables, and then bound them fast together. They next brought unwrought wood, which they placed very regularly upon the rafters. Over all they threw earth, which they raised to a proper height, and finished the whole by a fence on each side, that the horses and other beasts of burthen might not be terrified by looking down upon the sea.”

This bridge of boats, for such it may be properly called, resembled materially those constructed by the moderns. The addition of the suspension cables, which connected both ends of the bridge with the shore, must have contributed greatly to its strength. The floating bridges used in modern warfare, however, have this advantage over those constructed by the ancients (of which that devised by Xerxes was a very favourable specimen); the boats or pontoons upon which such bridges are now erected are specially constructed for the purpose, and an army on the march can carry these pontoons, like other baggage, and when necessary a bridge can be built in a very short time. When the army has passed the river the bridge can readily be taken to pieces and the materials transported elsewhere, to serve the same purpose again. An enemy pursuing, unless provided with similar appliances for constructing a bridge, would find his farther progress barred; but in the floating bridges used by the ancients it was possible for the pursued to erect a bridge that would be used also by their pursuers. The floating bridge by which Darius crossed the Bosphorus is said to have been similar to that contrived by Xerxes, although no precise record exists to enable us to ascertain exactly how it was fashioned. Alexander adopted a different course; taking advantage of such vessels as he could obtain on the spot, by rowing or sailing he crossed the particular river or strait which opposed his march. We have a remarkable example of a floating bridge on the river Douro opposite to Oporto, but the bridge erected by Xerxes seems rather to have resembled that thrown over the Adour.

The only incident that occurred on our voyage to Alexandria was furnished by a Turkish Aga, one of the passengers, who came on board in considerable state. His attendants spread his carpet on deck, that he might attend to his devotions. However, the sea was so rough that directly he appeared on deck he lost his balance and rolled over and over, which greatly hurt his dignity. He was very much enraged, and, to revenge himself, immediately set to work belabouring the unfortunate captain with his cane, saying that it was entirely his fault for giving them a foul wind, though all the time it was blowing most favourably, though rather too fresh for the Aga’s comfort. I burst out laughing, but soon checking myself, interceded for the poor captain and got him off, while the Aga retired to his cabin and delivered himself over to seasickness.

The situation chosen for the city of Alexandria, which Alexander the Great founded as the emporium of the Mediterranean after the destruction of Tyre, was peculiarly favourable, for the seven mouths of the Nile at that time existing were ill adapted for the safe passage of large vessels; all of them were more or less obstructed by bars, upon which during the stormy seasons there was a heavy surf, so that it was extremely dangerous to attempt their navigation. Alexander therefore resolved to adopt a situation totally independent of the Nile, and accordingly selected Alexandria, as being the farthest point from the mouths of that river, and the least affected by the alluvium brought down by it, and that which is carried along the shore by the western littoral current.

At the time the present situation was selected there was a small island not far from the shore. This island he connected with the mainland by means of an embankment faced with masonry, thus forming a double harbour, namely, one on the eastern side, which was protected by the promontory bounding the bay; and one on the western side, protected by a reef of rocks running in a westerly direction from the original island, and the projecting point of the bay to the west, so that the western harbour was tolerably well shielded on all sides, with the exception of the entrances between the rocks on the north; but through these only a comparatively small amount of swell can penetrate. It contains space for all the vessels that are likely to frequent this port, and the accommodation may be further increased, to almost any extent required, by making docks inland. It is true that in order to connect this port with the Nile above the bars and the interior country, a canal or other means of communication was requisite. A canal at that time was the only effectual method known, and this was accordingly adopted, and was made to the Canopic branch of the Nile, skirting along the shores of the Lake Mareotis for a considerable distance; but it was frequently filled up by the sand blown in from the desert and the adjacent shores. This sand was as constantly removed, and the communication between Alexandria and the Nile more or less imperfectly preserved. In 1851 the Pacha completed a line of railway between Alexandria and Cairo, and thus got rid of the uncertainty and expense of maintaining the canal and the river navigation. This railway was made under the direction of the late eminent engineer, Mr. Robert Stephenson, and now a perfect and economical communication is kept up by this means between Alexandria, Cairo, and the interior.

The eastern harbour of Alexandria, the water being very shallow, is now scarcely used except for the small coasting vessels; but it does not appear that in either the eastern or western harbours there is any material tendency to shoal.

When I was there, Alexandria, although possessing considerable trade, was but a poor place compared to the present city, and all the business of shipping, transhipping, and storing of goods was carried on in a very rude and costly manner, which is now materially changed for the better.

Besides Pompey’s Pillar, the other important relic is Cleopatra’s Needle, then as now lying prostrate. This needle was given to the British army, and a large subscription, amounting it is said to about 20,000l., was raised to transport it to England, and there to erect it in some conspicuous place in the metropolis, as a trophy of the signal success of the British army. For some reason or other, never properly explained, this has never been done, although seventy years have elapsed since the money was subscribed. When I returned from Upper Egypt, in the month of March, 1821, I found that the English Government, after repeated applications, had sent the ‘Spry,’ sloop of war, commanded by Captain Boswell, with my old friend and schoolfellow, Captain Wright, of the Royal Engineers, to report upon the cost, and the best plan for bringing Cleopatra’s Needle to England; but this all ended in nothing being done, although Captain Wright’s report was very favourable, both as to the cost and feasibility.

On reaching Cairo I had an audience with the celebrated or notorious pasha, Mehemet Ali. He received me with great dignity and civility, and said that the English were his best friends, upon which I could not help saying to myself, Thank God we are not his subjects! He was no doubt a very remarkable man—cool, determined, able, and courageous. He reduced the turbulent rulers and Bedouin tribes of Egypt to subjection, and procured a degree of tranquillity and peace for the oppressed inhabitants which they had not enjoyed for many generations; and if he plundered them himself, he would allow no one else to do so. Nevertheless, one cannot but be horrified at the atrocities with which all this was accompanied and accomplished. While here I saw a few Mamelukes who had escaped the massacre of 1809, and who were permitted to reside here. I was much struck by their martial air, their richly-embroidered costumes, and superbly mounted pistols and scimitars. As a body they were nearly exterminated, the survivors being allowed to subsist on the little property saved from the wreck. Egypt, like Constantinople, has since been so well described, and is now so well known (though at that time my journey to the second cataract was deemed extraordinary), that it is unnecessary for me to go over the same ground.

I hired a khangé, or small boat, manned by a reis, or captain, and eight rowers, with a tolerably comfortable raised cabin behind, divided into two parts, in neither of which, however, could I stand upright. But by this time I had become pretty well accustomed to the usages of the country, and my limbs being tolerably supple, I did not much mind it. I engaged the khangé at so much per month, I finding provisions for myself and servants, the reis agreeing to do the same for himself and his crew. Having stocked my boat with everything we were likely to require for four months, I embarked at Bouloe, accompanied by my servant Demetrius and a janissary. We came to anchor every night near the most convenient village, and started next morning soon after daybreak. At midday I halted for an hour, and sometimes more, in order to allow the captain and his crew to take their dinner comfortably, whilst I and my servants took ours. When the wind was unfavourable the crew were obliged to row or track the boat against the current; at such times I used to land and walk along the bank, gun in hand, exploring the adjacent antiquities or the surrounding country; and I found that I could easily keep pace with the boat. Where there was any object particularly worthy of remark, I had the boat moored as near to the bank as I could, whilst I went ashore, examined, sketched, and measured the objects in question at my leisure, and in this way I took measurements of all the edifices of any note. When there were none, I used to indulge in a sporting excursion, and found ample amusement. I not only procured many interesting objects of natural history, but shot numerous wild fowl, that were a very welcome addition to my table. Thus I passed a very agreeable time. Never idle for a moment—always employed, either for instruction or amusement; and my whole time was my own. I carried my house with me; and when there was nothing interesting on the route, and I had filled my book with sketches, if my journal was in arrear, I used to remain in the boat posting it up, whilst we were sailing, tracking, or rowing.

On my way up a sad accident deprived me of the services of my faithful attendant—I may say friend—Demetrius. We met a boat, having on board the O’Conor Don, Captain Groding, and another, coming down. They hailed us, and as they were short of provisions, I gave them a liberal supply, and invited them to dinner, the two crews regaling themselves and firing feux de joie at the same time. Suddenly a tremendous explosion, followed by a loud cry, was heard, and hastening on deck I found poor Demetrius covered with blood from two deep wounds in the throat and breast, his pistol having burst in his hand. At first I thought it would have been fatal, the effusion of blood was so great. I succeeded, however, in tying up the wounds and stopping the hemorrhage. It was then a question what should be done with him, as I was not surgeon enough to cure him, and no advice was to be had. In this emergency my new friends were so kind as to offer to take him to Cairo, where he could be properly attended to. I gladly accepted the offer, and supplied him with a sufficient sum of money, and requested them to place him in charge of the Consul, with directions to procure the best medical advice, for which I was of course responsible. Independently of the accident, I was much grieved to part with him, and was at first greatly at a loss for his services; but my janissary, an Italian turned Mussulman, and who spoke Arabic very well, and was not a bad cook, cheerfully consented to do what he could; and the reis also, a very civil fellow, as well as his crew, did all in their power to compensate me for the loss of Demetrius, so that after a short time we managed between us to get along pretty well.

I will only add one more incident, because it seems to show that the serpents used by serpent-charmers are not always deprived of their fangs, as is usually supposed, but that there is some real secret which renders them harmless or powerless. I was measuring the Temple of Edfou, when I saw a peculiarly venomous serpent come out of its hole, whilst an Arab boy who stood by fixed his eye steadily upon it the moment he saw it, the reptile fixing his eyes on the boy. The lad began waving his hands gently up and down, humming a peculiar tune in a low, monotonous tone. The serpent seemed to be charmed, and lay perfectly still, listening to and keeping its eyes attentively on the boy, who, finding that he had charmed it, was about to secure it; but at this I was so horrified, that I took up a large stone and killed the reptile. The boy was very angry, and assailed me with the most vehement gestures and imprecations, at which I laughed heartily. I afterwards learned that he was the son of a serpent-charmer, and was collecting these reptiles for his father.

In proceeding along the banks of the Nile, I observed that the land inclined from the margin of the river to the base of the adjacent hills. This is nothing more than might have been expected, as it is usual under all similar circumstances, and is caused by the periodical inundation. Thus, whenever the river rises above the margin, the current naturally diminishes in velocity as it encroaches on the banks, and to a certain extent becomes stagnant, and then deposits the alluvial matter with which the waters are charged; and as the water spreads farther on both sides from the main body of the river, it becomes clearer, and contains less alluvial matter. This is a wise provision of nature, for it enables the waters to extend a long way, and thus to irrigate a great extent of land. In order to ensure this irrigation more effectually, it is only necessary to keep open sufficient channels, which may be done with facility. But suppose this was not the case; suppose the land farthest off silted up first, then it would be necessary, for the purpose of irrigation, to raise the water by artificial means at considerable extra cost, to irrigate those lands farthest from the river. However, in process of time, as the land rises both at the sides of the river and the parts more remote from it where they have attained the utmost level of the floods, recourse must be had to art to irrigate the lands, otherwise their fertility and cultivation must cease, as the quantity of rainfall in the lower valley of the Nile, as it passes through Egypt, is comparatively trifling; in fact, the fertility of the country depends almost entirely upon the floods.

It is very probable that these waters might be utilized to a much greater extent by establishing large reservoirs in the adjacent valleys, which would be filled during the rising of the floods; and when these latter have subsided, the stored-up water could be discharged during the dry seasons for irrigation, navigation, and numerous other purposes. According to the present system, a vast quantity of water is allowed to waste, and the means of cultivating a large additional tract of country, now a desert, is lost. This object might be carried still farther by improving the channel of the Nile up to the great lakes of Albert and Victoria Nyanza, for the most part now a marshy, pestiferous district; this will very probably be done, as the subject becomes better understood; indeed, it is surprising how little the advantages which nature offers us in this respect are turned to account.

The delta of the Nile, like other rivers of the same class and magnitude under similar circumstances, advances outwards into the Mediterranean, and in proportion as it moves forward, the depth of water increases, and the width of the delta becomes greater, so that it requires a larger quantity of alluvium to maintain its progress, which becomes necessarily slower—that is, as far as concerns the alluvium brought down by the Nile. But then it must be observed, that as the delta proceeds outward, the stagnation produced by the protrusion of its apex into the Mediterranean causes a greater accumulation of alluvial matter to be deposited on both sides of the apex, and consequently two great bays are formed, one on either side, although the shores of these bays necessarily do not advance so rapidly as the centre portion. In proportion as the several branches of the Nile advance seaward, so their courses become lengthened, and consequently the total fall or inclination of the current becomes diminished, so that it cannot keep them all open; and hence, out of the eight branches or mouths of the Nile which existed in ancient times, only two now remain—namely, the Damietta and Rosetta mouths, and these are slowly deteriorating.

Whilst upon this part of the subject, it may be advisable to make a few remarks about the Suez Canal. This great work consists of an open cutting or trench from the Bay of Pelusium (Port Said) to the Red Sea at Suez, a total length of 99 miles, 196 feet wide at top, 72 feet wide at bottom, and 26 feet deep, with side slopes of 2 to 1. At the Mediterranean end there is a rise of tide or variation in the surface of the sea of from 1 foot to 2 feet, and at the Suez end from 2 feet at neaps to 6 feet at springs.

On the Mediterranean the entrance to the canal is protected by an artificial harbour composed of two piers carried from the shore. The western pier is carried out 2400 yards in a straight line, pointing towards the north, it then inclines slightly to the east for 330 yards, so that the total length of the west breakwater or pier is 2730 yards, or 8190 feet. The eastern breakwater or pier is carried out from the shore at a distance of 1530 yards from the commencement of the western pier, and is extended in a northerly direction 2070 yards, where it terminates at 760 yards from extremity of the west pier, which constitutes the entrance. Thus the two piers enclose a space of 500 acres, with a depth within of 26 feet. This harbour is said to be well protected against the prevailing or north-west winds.

This outer harbour, called Port Said, is connected with extensive quays and basins within, from whence the canal proceeds across the isthmus. At 52 miles from Port Said there is Lake Timsah; also Lake Ismaila and the Bitter Lakes, at 57 miles from Port Said. These Bitter Lakes cover a surface of about 100,000 acres, and will always ensure a considerable draught or current from the Red Sea, to compensate for the large amount of evaporation which is constantly going on, particularly during the summer season, and is said to amount to about 250,000,000 cubic feet daily. In order to supply fresh water to Suez, Ismaila, and Port Said, a considerable channel has been made from the Nile, at Cairo, to Suez and Ismaila, and a double line of cast-iron pipes between Ismaila and Port Said, with pumping engines of the requisite power at the former place.

The entrance to the Suez end of the canal is formed by an extensive double embankment through the shoal water, increasing gradually from a width of 72 feet at bottom, to 980 feet, where there is an open tidal dock, with 26 feet depth at low water.

This is no doubt a very extraordinary performance, rendered remarkable for the vast amount of capital which has been raised by a single individual—not an engineer—and the wonderful energy and perseverance with which he has accomplished it, opposed by innumerable obstacles, political and financial, which would have daunted and overwhelmed any person of ordinary physical powers. Although as an engineering work it is encountered by no unusual difficulties in the execution—being simply a matter of digging and dredging upon a vast scale—yet it certainly entitles M. Lesseps and his officers to the greatest credit.

Having now generally described the canal, let us consider how far natural obstacles exist which should cause any doubts as to its being possible to maintain the canal at such an expense as will enable it to produce something like a reasonable profit upon the capital expended in making it.

These obstacles may be enumerated as follows:

Firstly. The alluvial matter brought down by the Nile, and that from the prevailing littoral westerly current in the Mediterranean.

Secondly. The sands driven by the north-westerly winds into Port Said.

Thirdly. The sands driven into Suez by the southerly winds.

Fourthly. The sands driven into the canal from the surrounding deserts by the kamsin, or south-east winds.

Fifthly. From the great evaporation which will take place, and the consequent requirement of a corresponding supply of water both from the Mediterranean and the Red Sea.

Sixthly. Whether the expenses which must necessarily be incurred in overcoming these obstacles will amount to such a sum as will render the canal practically useless, that is to say, that it will not be worth the while of the Company to maintain it.

Before considering these important questions, it will be right to investigate the natural causes which have formed the Isthmus of Suez. I think we may conclude that Africa was originally an island, and that by degrees the waters of the Red Sea, driven in by the southerly winds, and those of the Mediterranean, driven by the northerly winds, brought with them a great quantity of alluvial matter; at the junction of these waters the currents would be destroyed, and the alluvium with which the waters were charged would be deposited and form a bank or bar, which by degrees rose above the ordinary level of the sea. This bank, once formed, would continually increase, not only from the alluvium brought in by the seas, but also from the sands blown in by the northerly and southerly winds from the surrounding deserts; and thus, in the process of time, the present isthmus would be formed. I think that the practical evidence of this is undoubted. The same operations are still in existence, and it is simply a question of time as to the increase.

Having discussed the cause of the formation of the isthmus, I will now proceed to consider the objections or obstacles above mentioned. With regard to the first, the waters of the Nile are constantly bringing down alluvial matter, but whether the quantity brought down now is the same as formerly, or greater or less, is a question which nothing but experience can decide. But as far as experiments have already been made, it appears that the accumulation which has already taken place is considerable, and if it proceeds in the same ratio as hitherto, it must shortly become a very serious question whether it should be removed or not, and whether it might not be remunerative to do so.

Secondly. With regard to the sands driven in by the northerly winds; these must be very considerable, and not being able to escape, they must accumulate and tend to fill up the harbour; this will necessitate constant dredging to keep it open.

Thirdly. The sands driven by the tide and the southerly winds into the Suez end of the canal. These also must be very considerable, as is already evinced by the great extent of shallow water at the northern extremity of the Red Sea. This also must be reduced by dredging.

Fourthly. With regard to the quantity of sand which may be expected to be driven into the other parts of the canal from the surrounding deserts, during the winter and spring prevailing kamsin, or southeasterly gales. This quantity has been proved by one year’s experience to be not less than 310,000 cubic yards, and at times it may possibly be much more. It is proposed to check this by planting the sides of the canal with trees. Still a great deal of dredging must be constantly required.

Fifthly. The evaporation from the Bitter Lakes, and parts of the canal adjacent, is said to be 250,000,000 cubic feet of water, which is equivalent to about three-quarters of an inch daily. This water will have to be supplied chiefly from the Red Sea; and as it will have to pass through such a narrow channel, the velocity of the current will probably amount to two or three miles per hour, and if the banks of the canal are not well secured by paving, or similar works, they will be liable to be seriously affected. The constant indraught of the current will impede vessels coming from the Mediterranean, whilst it will facilitate the passage of vessels coming from the Red Sea; and in the same manner there will be a constant current from the Mediterranean, but by no means to so great an extent. These currents will also very probably bring in a considerable quantity of alluvium. They will not, however, very materially interfere with the passage of steam-vessels, although, if the latter are permitted to go at full speed, the waves produced by them will scour away the sides considerably, unless well protected by stone paving, fagoting, or similar works.

Upon the whole, viewing the difficulties above mentioned, the question naturally arises, whether they are of such a character as to be insurmountable; and to this I think we may safely say that they are not. What has been done once, as has been proved by the completion of the canal, can be done again, and will be maintained with much less difficulty. So far, therefore, viewed simply as a work of engineering, it resolves itself into a question of cost, or in other words, will the work pay as a commercial speculation, seeing that it has already cost 20,000,000l., and a great deal more is still required before it can be said to be quite complete, besides a very large sum for annual maintenance, and what this last item will be it is very difficult to decide, and nothing but experience can prove; still the more the canal becomes known, the more in all probability will it be used, and therefore the more money will be available for keeping it in repair. In addition to the dredging, it is very probable that the piers, both at Port Said and Suez, will have to be extended considerably.

The whole of the valley of the Nile, from the head of the delta below Cairo, is bordered by ridges of sandstone hills a few hundred feet high, with generally a plain monotonous tableland above, intersected by numerous ravines; no granite appears until we reach Assouan. In the vicinity of this place there are numerous quarries of fine granite, chiefly red; the masses are so compact that blocks of almost any size may be obtained from near the surface. From this district all the granite for the obelisks, statues, and columns of the various buildings, temples, and pyramids on both sides of the valley have been taken. Transported in flat-bottomed boats and rafts to the places where they were intended to be used, they were landed by means of inclined planes of wood, with rollers, and wedges, assisted by numerous rough capstans or windlasses, worked by countless gangs of men. This work appears to have been done with considerable skill, and the necessary combined operations were carried on simultaneously, by means of well-concerted signals. These operations are very clearly explained by the sculptured figures, and have been published by Sir Gardner Wilkinson and others.

Whilst examining the granite quarries near Assouan, I observed several imperfect blocks, which the Egyptians had commenced quarrying, but found them defective, and ceased working them. The mode of quarrying seems to have been nearly the same as we employ at the present time, namely, by wedges, levers, and pickaxes. Even if gunpowder had been known it would have been of very little use, for it would have in most cases destroyed the blocks, and the waste would have been enormous.

It does not quite clearly appear of what metal the tools were composed with which they worked the granite, whether of iron or bronze; if of the former, it must have been case-hardened. The polishing would be done by attrition with emery or sharp silicious sand. As for the stone, being sandstone, it was easily worked, and softer tools only were required.

As soon as I got back to Alexandria my first inquiries were for poor Demetrius. To my great delight I found him quite recovered, and overjoyed at seeing me; but he said he had been very ill for six weeks, and had several times considered himself dying. I immediately set to work making arrangements for my journey overland to Palestine, when I was suddenly interrupted by letters from my father, saying that he was very unwell, and wishing me to come back as soon as possible. I instantly dismissed Demetrius with a very handsome gratuity, discontinued my preparations, and, through Mr. Lee, our Consul at Alexandria, hired a passage to Malta in a merchant vessel. I was, however, laid up for several days at Cairo with fever, which was not pleasant, as the plague was then raging. As soon as I was sufficiently recovered I proceeded to Alexandria, where I found that the merchantman had already sailed. However, as I have said before, Captain Boswell, with H.M. sloop, the ‘Spry,’ was there, having Captain Wright on board, and the latter having finished his report on Cleopatra’s Needle, the sloop was about to return to Malta, and they very kindly offered me a passage. This I gladly accepted, and on arriving at Malta found that the plague had broken out on board the merchantman in which I had engaged a passage, and that several of the crew had died. She was then in quarantine, and before long everyone on board died of the plague, and I saw the ship burnt. I humbly thanked an all-merciful Providence for its inscrutable dispositions.

At Malta, though better, I still retained the fever, and consulted Dr. Groves, the head of the naval medical department. He looked very grave and said little, but recommended me to go to England as soon as possible, while he told a friend of mine that he did not think I should recover, the fever having taken such hold of my constitution. However, by the aid of bark and port wine I became temporarily myself, and as soon as I was able I proceeded to pay my visits. I called on the Commander-in-Chief of the Mediterranean squadron, Sir Graham Moore, who gave me every assistance in his power, and introduced me to Admiral Woolley, chief of the dockyard, to whom and his amiable wife I owe my gratitude for their kind hospitality. They introduced me to Sir Manly Power, the commander of the military forces, and from him and the various messes of the regiments composing the garrison I met with the most friendly reception. I here made the acquaintance of Mr. Strutt, one of the sons of Mr. Strutt, of Belper, and with him I explored both Malta and Gozo. He shortly after left for Greece and the East, where he died of malaria, which I much regretted, as he was a remarkably fine, intelligent, and spirited young man.

While I was here His Majesty George IV.’s birthday was celebrated with the greatest éclat. At twelve o’clock the entire garrison was reviewed by Sir Manly Power, with the usual salutes from the forts and ships of war. At sunset all the guns on the works were fired. This was a magnificent sight, and, that I might see it properly, I was invited to dine at the artillery mess at St. Elmo, from whence the first gun was fired; this was taken up by fort after fort until the entire fortress seemed in a blaze, and the whole was terminated by a magnificent bouquet of rockets.

I embarked for Naples on board a cutter commanded by Mr. Thurtle, one of the oldest midshipmen in the navy. He was a very peculiar and rather eccentric character, rough and sarcastic in manner, an excellent sailor, and a kind-hearted man. His long service and great experience rendered him well known throughout the navy, and his wit and good-humour made him a favourite wherever he went; in fact, he was a privileged person throughout the fleet, and enabled to assume a character which few officers of far higher rank thought of attempting. Unfortunately he was the brother of that daring and dissipated criminal who shortly afterwards murdered his companion, Welsh, at Elstree, for which he was hanged at the Old Bailey. This was a sad blow to the poor midshipman, and one from which I afterwards heard that he never recovered. My voyage with him was most agreeable. He was very kind and attentive, full of fun and humour, yet never for a moment neglecting his duties, and he kept his crew and ship in the most perfect order.

On landing at Naples I got apartments in the Gran Bretagna (then, and I believe now, the principal hotel), with more ease than usual, in consequence of the rapid advance of an Austrian army, thirty thousand strong, commanded by General Baron Pirmont, at the request of the King of Naples. I saw them enter, and very fine troops they were, especially the Tyrolese yagers. Later on, when I wished to make an excursion to Pæstum, I obtained, through the kindness of the colonel of the regiment, two Tyrolese corporals as escort. They sat, rifle in hand, on the box of my carriage, and mounted guard while I sketched. We saw several ill-looking fellows, armed, prowling about, but none dared venture within reach of the rifles. Letters from my father reached me here, saying that he was a good deal better, and that there was no necessity for my hurrying; I therefore, while still hastening home, thought I might allow myself a few days on the road to visit those objects of interest which I had previously omitted.

While at Naples I also examined an open pier, of which there are numerous specimens about the bay. This pier is constructed in a peculiar manner of pozzolana mixed up with irregular-shaped pieces of brick, marble, and tufa, or volcanic stone. The piers were formed by enclosing the space in a wooden dam or box, then filling it with the materials above mentioned, which after a short time set under water, and became a solid mass; the cofferdam was then removed and the pier left standing; then another was constructed in the same manner, until the required number were completed; upon these piers arches were built, and upon the top of them a roadway and parapet were constructed. The piers were about the same thickness, or rather greater, than the span of the arches. The object of the openings and piers was to provide a barrier which should be just sufficient to break the swell, but not large enough to obstruct the current, as the latter prevented any sediment from accumulating on either side of the pier. This is a very ingenious and novel mode of constructing piers, and it is strange that a like method has not been adopted in England, where the vast quantity of alluvial matter carried by the currents along our coasts accumulates round solid piers, and frequently fills up the harbours, rendering them almost useless, unless the accumulated matter be removed by dredging at continual expense.

Whilst breakfasting at the hotel at Pozzoli I felt an attack of my old enemy, the malaria fever, coming on; I therefore got back to Naples as soon as possible, and was obliged to go to bed, and there I remained for several days perfectly helpless. Thinking it would leave me, I did not send for medical advice. However, finding myself gradually getting worse, I was recommended to send for Dr. Roskilly, formerly an army surgeon, who had now established himself at Naples as a physician, and from his well-known skill and courteous manners had obtained considerable practice, particularly amongst the English. He came, and I found him such as described; he examined me carefully, and, after a considerable time of grave consideration, he said that I was in a very bad way, that the fever had got such a strong hold of me that it was continually undermining my constitution, and that, if not speedily arrested, he could not answer for the consequences; indeed, I might not live to see England. The worthy doctor, with whom I was much pleased, then left, and promised to return the next day at the same time, which he did. He then said that he had given my case his utmost consideration, and he was more than ever convinced that some decisive measure was necessary. My constitution was still good, and strong enough for the measure he would propose; and if I would submit to him, he felt confident that he could carry me through. He explained his remedy, which was nothing more or less than that I should take blue pill, as much as I was able; this, he said, would thoroughly eradicate the fever. I accordingly consented, as my case was desperate. It succeeded completely after about a fortnight’s trial. I felt very weak, but I was entirely a different man. I soon began to recover strength and appetite, and in about another week I was enabled to go out, and became myself again. No doubt the remedy was severe, but I must in justice to the able doctor say that he perfectly cured me; for although in after life I was frequently exposed to malaria influence in the fens of Lincolnshire, Walcheren, the worst parts of Holland, Tunis, and elsewhere, I never had an attack of the malaria fever.

On my way northwards I stopped two days at Mola di Gaeta, where the Apennines approach the sea, and where are numerous traces of the villas of the old Roman aristocracy; it was well I did so, for the brigands had mustered in great strength in the adjoining mountains, and committed many atrocities; amongst other things, they had just carried off a number of pupils from a neighbouring school. The Austrians, who were there in great force, at the request of the local authorities came to the rescue. A very strong patrol of cavalry kept the main roads, while a still more numerous body of Tyrolese swept the valleys and penetrated the recesses of the mountains. The brigands at first defied their pursuers, but finding themselves hard pressed, they killed their unfortunate prisoners. On hearing this the Austrians attacked at once, and having slain a great number, made the rest prisoners. I saw about thirty chained together, who, I believe, were all shot the next day. The road being now clear, I resumed my journey.

At Florence I carefully examined and measured the celebrated bridge of the Most Holy Trinity, by Ammanati, across the Arno, near the Gran Bretagna. This beautiful structure, a masterpiece in the art of bridge-building, consists of three arches; the arches may be termed semi-elliptic, slightly pointed at the crown; perhaps they might be more appropriately termed Gothi-elliptic. The slight pointing at the crown may have been done to allow for sinking, which did not take place to the extent calculated upon. Each of the arches is surrounded with a moulded archivolt of equal thickness throughout, with an ornamented scroll or shield in the centre of the spandril walls supporting the roadway, which is bounded by a solid panelled bridge. The piers are terminated by acute angular buttresses carved up to the top, and panelled also. The whole is built of marble, and is certainly one of the lightest, most elegant, and most scientific structures of the kind in existence. Some doubts as to its stability have existed at various times; nevertheless, it still exists without a flaw, and as a model to engineers and architects.

I visited the magnificent picture gallery of the Palazzo Pitti, replete with choice specimens of the great Italian masters. The palace itself is a fine example of the simple, massive, rusticated style, devoid of ornament. The effect is imposing, and shows what may be done by bold, well-defined masses, without resorting to that exuberant over-ornamented style, intermixed with all sorts of coloured marble, so much the fashion of the present day, particularly in England, where the climate is peculiarly unsuited for it; in any case it can only be termed a vitiated taste. If the building is well designed and properly grouped in effective masses, so as to give well-defined portions of light and shade, there can be no need of extraneous ornaments, as they only detract from the general effect; and where a building is not well designed no ornament can render it effective.

The port of Leghorn consisted of several solid stone piers, which did not appear to be laid out in the most scientific manner, and considerable improvements were in contemplation when I saw it. The great difficulty it has to contend with is the quantity of alluvial matter brought down by the Arno, which spreads along the coast for some distance both to the north and south. This might be obviated by judiciously adopting the principle of open piers, as invented by the Romans, so as to allow the littoral current full scope; this would sweep away the alluvium as fast as it was deposited, and the requisite protection from westerly winds might be easily obtained if the works were constructed on a proper system.

Passing by Carrara, I was much struck by the waste consequent on the clumsy method of working the quarries, and of transporting and loading the blocks. It occurred to me at the time how easy it would be to construct an iron tramway from the quarries to the shore, with a suitable pier furnished with powerful derricks at its termination, and this, with proper machinery for quarrying, all of which would have cost but little, would materially reduce the price of the marble, and consequently increase the demand.

As I passed the magnificent and well-protected Gulf of Spezzia, I thought, “What a splendid site for a naval arsenal!” This idea has now been at least partially carried into effect, and if the works are properly designed and executed, it ought to be one of the finest in Europe.

The morning after my arrival at Genoa I arose early, quite refreshed, and went first to the harbour, which I had always heard was one of the finest works of the kind in the world, and as such my excellent father expected that I should give him a complete account of it. I therefore examined it very minutely, and took great pains in tracing, sketching, and measuring it, when I could do so without being observed, for there was a good deal of jealousy about it. At first sight I was very much struck by the extent and magnificence of the bay, with the fine old town rising like a vast amphitheatre of palaces round it, surrounded by a huge circle of forts which crowned the summits of the hills; and by the great extent and massiveness of the two outer moles, the depth of water enclosed within them being capable of receiving at all times the largest vessels of war. But when I began to examine more narrowly I found that there, was a great error in the design of the main or outer moles. The southern, which was the longest, consisted of two arms, the outer one inclining inward at a considerable angle, whilst the northern mole consisted of a single straight line projecting from the shore in a south-south-west direction, so that the entrance pointed south-south-west, and was consequently exposed to the full effect of the severe gales which blow up the Gulf of Lyons during the winter and autumn months; the consequence is that during severe gales from this quarter a heavy swell sets into the entrance and produces such a strong current throughout the interior of the harbour that vessels in front of the town and under the southern mole can scarcely ride with safety at their moorings. This is a serious defect, and it might be easily remedied, although up to the present I have not heard that anything has been done. In the construction of the works there was nothing particular to find fault with, but there was a serious error committed in the disposal of the sewage; the whole of this was discharged into the harbour, so that in hot weather a most disagreeable effluvia arose in front of the lower part of the town; moreover, it caused the accumulation of a considerable quantity of alluvial matter. This had to be removed by constant dredging, in which convict labour was employed. The alluvium was emptied into lighters and sent out to sea to be discharged. The old arsenal was situated at the south-east corner of the inner harbour; it was quite unequal to the requirements of modern times.

While I was at Genoa an accident occurred by which my old acquaintance the sloop ‘Spry’ was nearly lost. Captain Boswell, having served his time, had been succeeded by another captain, who, contrary to strict rule, had his wife on board. The evening on which the captain had given orders to prepare for sailing there happened to be a grand ball in the town, and the lady persuaded her husband to take her, and defer sailing to the morrow. By this time the ‘Spry’ had left the harbour, and lay at single anchor outside the north mole. During the night a strong gale sprung up from the south. As the ship could not regain her old position the officer in command let go two more anchors, but two cables having parted she dragged her third anchor, and was driven close to the rocks. No assistance could be given from the shore, and, as her position seemed hopeless, the officers and crew took to their boats, and managed to get off in safety. To the astonishment of everybody, however, the last cable held, and the recoil of the waves, so close was she to the rocks, actually prevented her from striking, and so she remained until the gale abated, and the ship was saved. The odd part of it was, that when the crew were about leaving the ship my old friend Dr. Biggar was asleep in the cabin, and when aroused flew into a violent rage, and threw a bootjack at the head of the midshipman who woke him. After several ineffectual attempts, the midshipman was obliged to leave him, and he turned round and slept soundly till the morning. Judge of his surprise when he awoke and found what had happened during the night!

After passing rapidly through France, I embarked from Boulogne, September 23, 1821, in a small packet, during a very strong gale, with about fifty other passengers.

The following day we started with the morning’s tide with about seventy passengers, of whom Colonel Hylton Jolliffe, a friend of my father’s, was one. We left Boulogne about eleven, and reached Dover at 2 P.M.; I directly started by coach for London, and reached my father’s, 27, Stamford Street, the same night. I found him in very bad health, lying upon the sofa in the principal front bedroom; he was glad to see me.

He continued in the same weak state, although in perfect possession of all his great faculties, dictated to me several letters on business, and talked of sundry new works that he was about to undertake, particularly the new London Bridge, and the removal of the old one, which had been for some time under discussion in Parliament; a Bill for this purpose had actually been introduced during the past session, and my father had been requested to prepare a design for it, which he did, and it was very similar to that since executed by myself. My father’s bodily health appeared to decline gradually; he was confined almost to the sofa, and could do little more than walk across the room; in this manner he continued until the 3rd of October. He went to bed as usual, perfectly sensible and composed, and hoped that he would soon be better, as he was most anxious to return to business and make up for lost time. I went to his room on the morning of the 4th of October, and found that a considerable change for the worse had taken place; he seemed to be in much pain, and was walking about the room, evidently scarcely knowing what he was about. I got him into bed, and immediately sent for his physician, Dr. Ainslie, who had known him all his life, but he was unfortunately out of town. The apothecary, Mr. Welbank, came, and we consulted together as to whom we should send for, and ultimately summoned Dr. Roberts, who, although in good practice, had never seen my father, and consequently knew nothing of his constitution or complaints. He did the best he could, but evidently thought the case was very serious. My father lay in bed all day, almost unconscious, although I thought he knew me. I remained with him nearly the whole day, and about five o’clock in the afternoon he appeared to be sinking fast, and breathed very heavily, which alarmed us all excessively. In a short time this ceased, his features began gradually to relax, and he breathed his last at half-past five on the afternoon of the 4th of October, 1821, in the sixty-first year of his age.