My friend Mr. Sharp and myself left Naples on the 11th of October. We had made a special agreement with a vetturino to convey us to Bari, and had entered into a great many particulars which our experience on former occasions had pointed out to us as expedient, but unfortunately we either forgot to mention, or mentioned it so casually, that we could neither of us be sure of having done so, that the usual expenses were to be paid. I had been very much hurried the day before, as is frequently the case with travellers just setting out on a new expedition, and did not get to bed till past one. At half past two a man was sent to call me. It was part of our agreement that we should not set off till five o’clock, and this interruption made me very angry; I therefore scolded the man and sent him away, but I could not sleep any more. This is one of the usual plagues of Italian travelling, and a very great one it is, since the time allowed for repose on such occasions, is seldom so much that we can well afford to lose any of it. The vetturino had promised that the carriage should come for us to the inn, but this part of his bargain he now refused to perform. This formed the subject of the second quarrel, and as soon as we arrived at the place from whence we were to start, we disagreed about the expenses. I have certainly had more exercise in scolding in Italian, than I ever had in English; scolding and bargaining are here qualifications of every day necessity. We found two gentlemen going the same road for seventeen ducats each, while we were each to pay twenty-four; this seemed to indicate that we were grossly cheated, or that the expenses had really been considered in our bargain, and the vetturino was so used to lying reasons, that he never thought of giving the really good one which he had to urge, which was, that these gentlemen were only going to Foggia, about two thirds of the distance. After a time all things were settled, only as a last trick we found that he had directed the driver to demand Spanish dollars, which are worth a few grains more than the Neapolitan piastres. The road lies along a comparatively level country, among groves of poplars supporting vines, to Cardinale, seventeen miles distant. Here the hills begin, and Sharp and myself went forward on foot up the first ascent, but the road winds between woody slopes, and we had no view over the country we had past. The descent exhibits a rich valley, bounded by a great variety of hills and mountains. Some parts are cultivated with corn or vines, others are covered with wood, while occasionally, a bold and craggy cliff gives spirit and variety to the scene. The road continues along this valley to Avellino, and here ended our first day’s journey, twenty-six Neapolitan, or about thirty-one English miles from Naples. Yet the road is neither bad nor hilly. Five carriages full of company left Naples together, which probably was the occasion of some delay, and made it very difficult to obtain accommodation at the inns; but it was desirable in point of security, as the road is not in very high esteem, although guarded in the worst part by a band of sixty-five robbers taken into the king’s service. On looking round at the different parties, S. and myself decided that our own companions were the most agreeable of the whole; of the two who were with us in the carriage, one was a gentleman perhaps thirty years old, who had been an officer in the French armies, and served afterwards under Joachim; for the latter circumstance he is now dismissed, although his appointments were at first confirmed to him by the present government. Our English laws have decided that it is no crime to serve the king de facto; the restored sovereigns of Italy have not adopted that salutary maxim, but in punishing men for doing their duty, have given their subjects a lesson that it belongs to them to decide who ought to be king; and have rejected their best officers from the service. Our companion made no complaints, but simply mentioned the facts as inquiries occurred in the course of conversation. An Italian is almost always improved by foreign military service. It enlarges his mind and improves his manners, without lowering his standard of morality; he is generally free from the puppyism, and violent esprit de corps, of which the French officers are accused. In all parts of the world the middle classes of society are the most moral; in Italy they are also the best informed, as instruction to a certain point is of easy attainment, although beyond this point, the progress of the human mind is checked as much as possible by the religious and political institutions of the country, and if a nobleman can read and write his own name, it seems as much as is expected. This state of things cannot last, but the French, in their revolutionary frenzy, put the lowest class at the top, and the remedy was worse than the disease. Revolutions are essentially bad things; the chances are terribly against a good ending; but a circulation of ranks, in which superior talents and virtues among the people gradually advance themselves and their families, while the higher classes, when unsupported by personal qualifications, as gently sink again into the mass, is essential to the sane condition of the body politic. Add to this a constitution where every one has his due weight; and let me add, that let his portion of political consequence be ever so small, no man ought to be entirely a cypher; and national prosperity must be the result. Our other companion was a brother of this officer, quite as much as the other inclined to render us those little services in which a native can so easily assist a stranger, not very well informed, but with considerable desire of becoming so. In the serpe, or cabriolet, were three natives of Livello, a town in Apulia, a little out of the high road. One had been a soldier, the second had also, I believe, been in service; the third was studying medicine at Naples. The most perfect equality seemed to prevail among them; they were all young, civil, and good humoured. Towards the end of the second day, the scenery became open and dreary. Sharp said it resembled the Yorkshire wolds; I compared it to the South Downs, but the hills were higher and not quite so naked. We slept at Ariano, where the antiquities are hardly worth notice; and the next day, a string of ten carriages set out together for mutual protection in passing the most dangerous part of the road near Ponte Bovino, where two carriages had been robbed the day before. Two young men from Lecce who had their guns with them, walked by the side of their carriages at the most suspicious spots, and there were two gens d’armes on horseback, and another escort belonging to a carriage travelling post, which here kept company with us. After the first mile or two the road lay along a valley, sensibly descending on the whole, though we occasionally had to cross little hills; these were rocky and bushy; rough, but neither bold nor high, and there is a great deal of uncultivated ground; this style of country continued to Ponte Bovino, where on a former occasion our officer had been attacked by robbers while he was sitting at supper, though he had a band of fifty men with him. Here we could procure nothing for dinner but bread and mozzarelli. These are pieces of curd, rather than cheese, from buffaloes’ milk, which are very good when roasted. At Rome similar things are called provature, but the name of these little items of food varies in almost every province. At Ponte Bovino we leave the valley, and on crossing the last hill of this part of the Apennines, the whole of Apulia, a dull and naked flat, lay before us, with the high, downy-looking Monte Gargaro in the distance. The third day’s journey concluded at Foggia, which is rather a handsome city, and exhibits some remains of Gothic, or rather of Lombard architecture in the cathedral, and some good pieces of the renaissance. We parted at this place from our agreeable companions, and at four the next morning, (14th of October) we renewed our journey, along a deep clayey track, through a flat open country, in a continued rain. Our remaining companions left us at Cerignola, and we proceeded alone to Barletta, where we arrived late, and had great difficulty in procuring beds. I could not see the English consul, but as we learned that a vessel which we had some hopes of finding here bound for Corfu, had already sailed, we determined to make no delay, but proceed according to our agreement to Bari. The weather during almost the whole journey was very wet, and still continued so, but the scenery improves from Barletta. It is true there is little variety in the ground, but it is less naked, and several towns, each standing in a very picturesque manner on a low limestone point advancing into the Adriatic, form a succession of pleasing objects. Their long horizontal lines seem to unite them with the rocky projections on which they are placed, and are finely contrasted with the tall and slender campanile, which is rarely wanting. The road passes on the outside of these towns, as in fact their situation places them rather out of its line, and their narrow and crooked streets render it desirable to avoid them. At Bari also a new road has been made outside of the town, although a small circuit is necessary for that purpose. In architecture Bari offers little interest, yet it is not without some buildings which deserve notice. The town occupies the situation already described, of a low limestone promontory, and the cathedral and one or two other churches, boast of domes. These are near to the cathedral and to the lofty campanile. They group remarkably well, and having no rivals, form the town into a single composition from whichever side you consider it. Another part of the line is well broken by the solid mass of a large church dedicated to San Nicola, but this is a plain, lofty building without tower or dome. Each of these churches seems to have been designed for two towers, but the general effect is better as it is. The cathedral externally is very much in the style of those of Lombardy, but the ancient doorway has been removed; and the appropriate divisions of a large wheel window which adorns the front, are also wanting, to the great detriment of its appearance; but though with these and some other accessories which have likewise been taken away, it might have been rich, it never could have been handsome; and the flanks certainly were neither rich nor handsome, nor even characteristic of a great public edifice, a fault more rare with those early architects. Some smaller circular windows have preserved their internal divisions, but these have rather the appearance of perforations in a single stone, than of being formed by intersecting rods. The campanile is a small tower on the top of a larger one, attached to the end of the transept, which is itself very tall and slender. Internally, the church has been modernized, but something of the simplicity of the ancient arrangement is preserved, and the richness of the choir, which is merely a large niche, highly decorated, is set off by the plainness of the other parts of the edifice.

The Church of San Nicola, the patron saint of Bari, is perhaps larger than the cathedral. It has been left imperfect, but retains more of its original structure. The architecture is Lombard, and we are informed that it was finished in 1197. Some of the ornaments are Gothic, but these may have been added. The shafts of the doorway rest on figures of animals. Internally, we are reminded in some parts of the arrangement of the church of St. Mark at Venice, but not of its rich decorations. A gilt and ornamented ceiling of comparatively modern date rests on whitewashed walls.

One little church at Bari has a small wheel window in the upper part, and in the lower a doorway, which we may call Norman. The mouldings of the jaumbs are continued round the arch without any indication of column or capital, or any thing to mark the commencement of the curve.

The English consul at Bari assured us that a boat to Corfu would cost three hundred dollars, as the usual price, but that with his interference we might obtain it for two hundred and fifty, or possibly, when we appeared to be startled at the price, for two hundred. We have since learned that such a thing may be had for one hundred and twenty, but the consul saw our anxiety to be gone. Sir H. Lushington had written to the consul at Otranto, in order to obtain for us a passage in the courier’s boat from that city, to Corfu. It did not seem quite certain that our object would be attained, but we thought it better to take our chance there, than pay such a price for a boat from Bari. The illness of my companion detained us a month in the latter place. We hired a lodging, and found a trattoria in the same house, which was very convenient in some respects, but Bari beats even Naples for noise. My occasional companions at the trattoria tell me that Bari is the most stupid, ignorant, brutish, ill ordered, and ugly place on the coast. Though a city of twenty-eight thousand inhabitants, it has no bookseller, and a few volumes in a tailor’s shop, formed all the literature I could find in the place, nor could either the consul, or the doctor, help me to a single work. The former indeed was useful at first to buy a little meat, or a fowl to make broth for S., but I found afterwards that it was much better to take that office on myself, and the superintendence of every other; for though I procured a man nurse, and the old woman of the house and her servant professed to do every thing, yet they did little but talk to each other in the highest scolding pitch in the sick man’s room, when I was not present; nor could I depend on the apothecary’s preparing the medicines, unless I stood by to look at him. The consul came, and said speriamo so often, that if I were not of a very sanguine temperament, I should have been quite in despair. I do not know whether in this he was prompted merely by curiosity, or whether, as he found he could make nothing of us alive, he hoped we might be more profitable to him dead, for he was continually teasing me with his proposed arrangements for the funeral. I amused myself as well as I could, studying Romaic, and sometimes collecting plants, but I was sadly at a loss for books, since I had made no provision for so long a stay. Towards the end of the time, I made an acquaintance with a lawyer of Conversano, who with his son was staying at Bari about some business; and by his means I procured an Ariosto, and he also taught us to use the Italian cards, which served to amuse the invalid while he was yet too weak to go out. At last we made our bargain for Otranto (with the accent on the first syllable) for twenty-four ducats. The journey was to be performed in four days; and we retained the power to dismiss our vetturino at the end of any day, if we should find the journey too fatiguing, paying at the rate of six ducats per diem, and in that case one ducat additional. In the morning however we had a quarrel, because he had promised a close carriage, and brought an open one, that is, a four-wheel carriage with a fixed head and sides, and curtains to let down in front; but at last we set off in it. The day was fine, and even hot. For the first four or five miles there is an artificial road, the termination of which was marked by a deep trench. Afterwards we had merely a track on the native soil, which is generally a rough uneven rock. The country is inclosed, forming olive-gardens, with corn underneath, and vines and fig-trees. The former are kept short, as in the south of France, and not trained to any support. After a time we got into a more naked country near the shore, which you might call a heath, only there is little or none of that plant, the principal ornaments being the bushes of lentiscus, and of a shrubby thyme or marjoram, and the leaves of the Asphodelus ramosus, and of the Scilla maritima, but the flowers were quite over. The little town of Pulignano is seated among plains of naked rock, intersected in almost every direction by exceedingly deep ruts. I thought it impossible to proceed, but our driver was very careful and very skilful. We slept the first night at Monopoli, which is again among groves of olive-trees, and our next day’s journey of thirty-six miles, was almost always in stiff clay, which on the whole was a relief, for we were so sore and bruised by the jolting of the first day, that I do not know how we could have borne a second on a road equally rugged. The ground between the olive-trees was no longer cultivated with grain, but covered with bushes of lentiscus, phillyrea, myrtle, various species of cistus, and the Quercus coccifera. A range of hills on the right agreeably diversified the prospect, and on the left the blue waves of the Adriatic sometimes appeared between the boles of the olives, and sometimes over their summits. We observed neither house nor living creature for a large portion of this day’s journey, which terminated at a miserable village called San Vito. Among the olives we frequently meet with trees of the Ceratonia siliqua, whose sweet pods are much eaten in Italy, but the variety introduced from these sources did not prevent a feeling of tiresome monotony, from the continued prevalence of the olive-grove. The direction of the road is marked by two parallel, low, stone walls, but for the most part it is quite impassable, and the track in use sometimes lying on one side of it, and sometimes on the other, we frequently had to cross the road and its boundary walls. The third day conducted us from San Vito to Lecce, and in the wilder parts the abundance of arbutus in flower, and loaded at the same time with its scarlet fruit, was very beautiful. Lecce is a fine city: you would complain in England that the streets were narrow, and laugh at some of the extravagancies of architecture, but you could find very few places to come in competition with it, or which had so much the appearance of a little capital. No money appears to have been spared in embellishing the churches, and it is a pity it was not spent under the influence of a better taste. We had not much daylight to see it, but a beautiful bright moon, and a clear cold atmosphere. The fourth day’s journey was a short one to Otranto, mostly over downs or heaths, covered with low shrubby plants, lentiscus, phillyrea, myrtle, pyracanthus, and different sorts of cistus, but at this time of year the effect of all together at a little distance, is much like that of an English common covered with furze, and occasional bushes of thorn. On entering the town we crossed a clear little stream, called the Idro, of the smallest size indeed, but it was the first running water we had seen since leaving Barletta, a distance of a hundred and fifty or a hundred and sixty miles. There is neither albergo, locanda, nor trattoria in the place, but the consul procured us a good lodging, and did all in his power to make us comfortable without expecting to make a bargain of us. There is no fine architecture at Otranto of any date, but there are curious hints, as indeed there are in most of the towns along the coast. The large balconies which frequently occupy the whole extent of the front, have a very good effect. The lower part appears very solid, with few and small openings, and the balcony itself generally partakes of the same massive character.

The style of the upper part is much lighter. Sometimes the centre of the building falls back in the upper stories, while the balcony runs across the opening, and over it a trellis is carried, supporting vines, and the contrast of colour and form thus produced is very beautiful and picturesque. In some houses at Otranto this recess is arched over, and this disposition is also usually ornamented with vines. These contrivances for living out of doors are better suited to a warm climate than to such a one as ours; yet I think some of these arrangements would not be unmanageable in our country. There are a great many effects produceable from open porticos and galleries, which give the Italian architecture a great advantage. We copy such dispositions, but with us there appears a want of good sense in them, which more than compensates the effect of light and shade; while in Italy, the appearance of air and shade is also that of comfort and pleasure.

There is an ancient church at Otranto, containing some remains of classic antiquity, said to be derived from a temple of Minerva; but I can point out nothing as particularly beautiful, except a fine marigold window, which is probably of a later date than the body of the building. The bases and capitals of the columns are at best of the lower empire. Unfortunately for the lovers of romance, the castle is a commonplace fortification of the sixteenth century, without any thing venerable or picturesque about it.

We were conducted by our consul to an olive-ground, of which there are authentic records of the planting, at the beginning of the sixteenth century. The trees are therefore about three hundred years old; they still bear, but are much decayed; yet I should think we have seen older. At least we have seen much larger. The ladies in the south of Italy have rather shrill voices, and in the lower class of females, when they are earnest about any thing, (and they are earnest about every trifle) this becomes quite a scold. I have already mentioned those at Bari, where the maid-servant seemed always to speak in a whirlwind; and the woman who took care of the house where we lodged at Otranto, and who cooked and did every thing for us, was so strong in her expressions of gratitude, that Sharp insisted she was scolding. The consul had received a letter directed to me from Sir H. Lushington, but not knowing what to make of the address, he had opened it, and contrived to obtain the sense of its contents. It was fortunate for us that he did so, as an order from Corfu is necessary, in order to be permitted to make use of the courier’s boat, and he had forwarded the letter, and procured for us the permission. After waiting four days for a southerly wind to bring over the boat, and two more for a northerly one, we left Otranto and Italy on the 29th of November. Our passage was performed in about thirty hours. The coast of Albania, as we approached it, appeared to be composed of high and craggy mountains, for the most part of a bare and desolate appearance. Corfu at first also presents a ridge of craggy mountains, but less high and more varied, and whose lower parts are covered with olives. As we get nearer we distinguish lower ranges of hills between these mountains and the shore. The town of Corfu stands on the eastern side of the island towards Albania, and seems to be placed on the shore of a noble lake. The situation is delightful, and the views towards the island the most beautiful you can imagine: a very irregular chain of mountains appears to run down its middle; nearer, are hills covered with wood and olives, and the shores are varied with a succession of bays and promontories, sprinkled with villages, and enriched with gardens and vineyards. Across the water, the scenery is more grand, but monotonous, savage, and desolate. The mountains form a more continued line, and Tomarit, covered with deep snow, appears above the general range, but at this time of year there are many patches of snow scattered over the Albanian mountains. We were much struck on our arrival at Corfu with the total difference in the style of architecture, as compared with that of Italy; which, as Corfu is rather an Italian than a Greek city, we did not expect. Instead of large rooms, and lofty ceilings, we found small chambers, in which I can do little more than stand upright. And in the principal streets the footpaths run under arcades, which are so low, that in many places I cannot conveniently walk under them. The windows are large in proportion to the scale of the building, and the spaces between them, both horizontally and vertically, very small. In short, the whole disposition is mean and paltry, and the materials are in no respects better.

It is not only the houses which strike one as novelties at Corfu. Here we first see the Greek dress in common use, and the full garments and rich colours give an air of consequence, which however is perhaps, as much the effect of novelty as of any thing else. It excites however, a feeling something like surprise, when first we see men so dressed employed in field labour, and yet on a nearer approach, we perceive that it is as ragged and shabby as that of the lower classes with us. The Greeks of the islands generally wear a sort of night-cap on the head, and have abundance of hair, which is often brown towards the points, and very unlike the fine black hair of the Italians. They wear a waistcoat with sleeves, and over this another waistcoat without sleeves, of a different colour, and both more or less embroidered; a red or blue sash, and very full petticoats, reaching a little below the knee, and stitched up at the bottom, except two holes for the legs to pass through. The stockings are frequently white with red seams. The dress of the Albanian peasants is much the same in form, but it is of coarser materials, and of undyed wool, except blue and red threads, which are fastened in at places, to serve as embroidery. The officers here have a very good library, and I found what I did not expect, a copy of Stuart’s Athens, including the fourth volume.

The chief produce of Corfu is oil. The Venetian government gave a reward for each tree that was planted, and assigned a punishment for cutting one down. The oil is said to be very good, and it ought to be cheaper here than in the Neapolitan territory, where land pays taxes to the amount of 27 per cent. on the produce, while here it only pays 3; however, if less go to the government, more probably goes to the landlord. The mountains seem to consist principally of limestone, and from the specimens I saw of the rock and its fossil contents, I should conclude it analogous to our chalk, but much harder. The lower hills are sandstone lying on the limestone, and a siliceous angular breccia occurs, whose position I could not ascertain; there is also a coarse gritty limestone, and a slaty clay, with thin beds of sulphur.

We staid at Corfu only as long as the weather obliged us; and as the strong, south wind which prevented our departure brought almost continual rain, we consequently saw little of the neighbourhood, and Corfu presents few antiquities. There are some faint traces of the ancient Corcyra, and in its neighbourhood we observed a singular Doric capital, the projection of the ovolo being equal to the upper semidiameter of the column; it is of small dimensions. We also observed a pilaster capital, corresponding in size with that of the column, which put me in mind of some of those at Pæstum. I have no doubt that these fragments are antique, but on the precise degree of antiquity I do not pretend to decide. The port remains; a beautiful lake, surrounded with every charm of cultivation, wood and mountain, but very shallow, and its borders are said to be highly unwholesome.

Sharpe and I dined sometimes at the English tavern, and so completely had we become used to Italian customs, that it seemed quite strange to us to eat out of blue ware, to have soup, with only a little vermicelli at the bottom, instead of being almost filled with it, to have fish follow the soup, a little glass for the wine, iron forks, and to have them and the knives changed with each change of plate. This is I imagine not an ancient custom in England, for some passages in Swift seem to indicate that it was by no means a regular practice in his time. We were told that we should find this tavern very dear, yet soup, fish, duck, shrimps, pudding, wine, and fruit, cost only half a crown a head, though dressed at our own time; a privilege we have not been able to obtain of late either for love or money. At the Italian trattoria a dinner cost 2s. 1d., which is dearer in proportion, both in the quality of food, and the conveniences afforded.

We agreed with the captain of a small open boat to take us to Santa Maura, or to Cefalonia, as the wind would best permit, and on Saturday evening received a notice to come on board in order to start early in the morning. There was no great comfort in such a sleeping-place, but we prepared to submit. However, two officers of the Calabrian corps, who were to be of the party, came to tell us that they had fixed not to leave town till the morning. We ordered some provisions, but when we inquired for them in the morning, we found they had been forgotten or disposed of, and we were obliged to set off with a very short allowance. The boat was about two miles from Corfu, and we did not leave the shore till nine o’clock, in a dead calm. About eleven a breeze sprung up from the south with dark clouds; I wanted to return, as the stormy weather we had lately had from that quarter had taught me something of what we were to expect. The boatmen however continued to row against the wind, which increased during the day, and at dusk we entered a bay on the coast of Albania, fifteen or twenty miles from Corfu, and moored at the back of a little uninhabited island called Agioneesi (Ἁγιοννησι). Our boat was like one of the open fishing boats which are used on the English coast, but more clumsily made, and with a sort of basket-work along the edge to stick pegs into for the oars, and other purposes. A few moveable boards, which covered a cargo of beans, formed a deck to stand upon, and when moored, the boatmen took down the mast and laid it horizontally, to form the ridge of a tent, which they completed with a sort of coarse flannel and the sails; under this we crept, but there was no room to stand, or even to sit upright, except in the middle. The night was wet and windy, so was the next day, and our tent proved a very imperfect protection against the torrents of rain. We got out upon the island in spite of the weather, but it is a mere rock, covered with low bushes of myrtle, bay, coronilla, lentiscus, arbutus, &c. On the top are a few fragments of the walls of a ruined church. We saw abundance of narcissus and cyclamen, but a few turnips or cabbages would have been vastly preferable to all these vegetable beauties. In the evening we finished our provisions, and the captain made a great difficulty of letting us have any more. On the following night the storms were still more violent. Tuesday was no better. Wednesday furnished some hopes, but they were soon disappointed, and we were obliged to attack our cargo of beans, which were very bad, and half eaten by weevils. The bread was all gone, and we had only a hard and gritty biscuit to supply its place. On Friday the weather relaxed so far as to enable us to change our position, and we anchored under the main-land, which gave us an opportunity of sending for food to a town (Gomenitza) about six miles distant, where we got fowls, a sort of polenta to serve for bread, bad wine, and salted sprats. The captain and his crew partook of the bread and wine without asking leave, or thanking us. The fowls we took more care of. The change of place had also enabled us to find the arbutus loaded with berries, of which there were none on our barren rock. My companions told me that if I eat many they would occasion madness, but I made what might be called a meal of them without any inconvenience. On Saturday morning we left the bay and the island, and rowed a few miles between a range of small islands and the main. Beyond this shelter we found a swell which frightened our cowardly mariners, and they turned back to a little creek, where we got on shore, lighted a fire, killed, plucked, boiled, and eat three of our fowls, and roasted the two which remained for the next day. On Sunday the weather was beautiful, and the swell had evidently subsided, but our Greeks would not move. Whether however, our wine inspired them, or some other circumstances had given them courage, I know not, but at seven in the evening they determined to set off, and we wrapt ourselves up as well as we could for the night. We heard the clock at Parga announce midnight, and found ourselves in the morning, proceeding towards the outside of Santa Maura, in order to hold our direct course to Cefalonia, but a swell again alarmed our boatmen, and at about ten o’clock they changed their course, in order to pass through the channel between Santa Maura and the main. It cost two hours to recover our ground, and I do not know how many lies in order to escape contumacia, or quarantine, to which it seems we should have been subject had it been known that we had touched the Turkish shore. Here we quitted our boat, but we found the captain did not go on Monday, though the day was fine, and the wind was favourable. Afterwards we had again rain and south winds.

One of our companions in this voyage, a young Cefalonian, had a great desire to be a soldier, and to march with a body of his countrymen to Constantinople, laying waste the whole country with fire and sword. This he was persuaded was quite practicable, as one Greek is at any time a match for ten Turks. I think this love of soldiering seems to increase in proportion as the nation has less courage. We found a little inn at Santa Maura kept by a Sicilian, who complained of the Greeks as great knaves. Our accommodations were not magnificent, but we did very well.

Santa Maura is a small wooden town on the shore of a very shallow channel, which separates the island from Albania; so shallow, that the usual boats are made out of a single tree, and preserve their ancient name, monoxylon. They will only at the most hold two persons. This shallow water, and the salt works just by, make the place very unhealthy in the autumn. The castle is on a long spit of flat sand, which is supposed formerly to have been an isthmus, and in order to avoid a very long circuit in going to it from the town, we have to cross a bridge, about three quarters of a mile long and three feet wide; it is without any defence, and so exposed to the wind, that a picket guard in crossing it has been forced into the bay, which, though not deep in water, is very much so in mud. In bad weather therefore, the crossing may be considered as dangerous, and one day, when we had engaged to dine with Colonel Ross, the violence of the wind and rain prevented us keeping our appointment.

We visited the remains of the ancient Leucas, or perhaps of Neritus, where however there is nothing but an extensive line of walls, mostly of Cyclopean masonry, but there is part of a tower built in parallel courses, and in one place the Cyclopean wall is double, the intermediate space being filled with earth. There are no vestiges of other buildings, public or private, except a fragment of a little column, and in one place a circular pit, widening downwards, perhaps a receptacle for corn. I mentioned to you some openings of this sort at Fiesole, but there it was among tombs, which would seem to indicate some other purpose, and Clarke describes a similar pit at the top of the Mount of Olives, near Jerusalem, on which he speculates largely. We could not find even the fragment of a moulding. The situation is delightful, commanding extensive views both to the north and south. Ithaca and Cefalonia, with the Gulf of Arta, the shores of Albania, and the lesser hills backed by the majestic range of the snow-covered Pindus, enter into the prospect.

The island of Santa Maura seems almost to consist of a single mass of limestone, but it contains in its bosom some romantic rocky valleys, and fine plains in several places towards the shore. The uplands are generally cultivated in corn. The lower ground in the neighbourhood of the town is an almost continued olive-grove. The temperature of a copious spring, which is conducted to the town, was 62°, at the spot where it gushes out from the limestone rock, that of the air being 55°.

We engaged a boat to carry us to Patras for twenty-five dollars, but the bad weather confined us till the 23rd, when we went on board our vessel, which was in quarantine. A contrary wind sprung up, and after spending the night moored to a bank on the side of a salt lagune, we returned to the town. The term of quarantine of the boat just then expired, and we were enabled to get back to our old quarters. On the 28th we again got into motion, and made about forty miles that day. At night we brought up under an uninhabited island called Scrofa, which, though somewhat larger and higher, could not fail to put us in mind of our old shelter at Agioneesi, especially as we were detained there all the 29th by easterly winds. On the 30th the wind was not unfavourable, but the boatmen thought the swell too much for them. About noon we persuaded them at least to get out to see how it was. Our track lay round a flat sandy point, where the waves ran very high and sharp; the sailors were steady and skilful, but our boat seemed hardly equal to it. With such a wind they said it would be impossible to land at Patras, and therefore, after sailing about two hours, we stopped among the shallows and sand banks at the mouth of the Aspropotamos, about eight miles from Messolungi, and fifteen from Patras. The next morning a favourable breeze encouraged us to proceed, but it soon changed, and drove us back again. After a little interval the westerly wind again sprung up, and we made a second attempt with the same result, but at last all wind ceased, and we rowed across to Patras. It was too late to seek after a lodging, but we applied to the consul, Mr. Cartwright, as we had had quite enough of the boat, and he very hospitably took us in himself. Three English travellers were also in his house, and the contrast in passing unexpectedly into polished society, with all its comforts and conveniences, immediately from our rough accommodations, was very striking.

A favourable westerly wind again enticed us to try our fortune at sea, but with our usual ill success, as we had to stop at Vostizza several days, with only the amusement of advancing for a few miles in the morning and returning again in the evening. At last, our patience being exhausted, we continued our journey by land. Our luggage had increased during our progress, and our desire on leaving Naples to reduce it as much as possible, had rendered it more inconvenient. We had no Greek servant, we could not speak the language, and were totally unacquainted with the practices of the country. These considerations had made us more willing to accept the boat which was offered to us at Patras, but fortunately we had given permission to a Greek to accompany us, who was going, as he said, to procure the payment of a debt from the bey of Corinth, and we found him very useful.

Vostizza is seated on the brow of a long ridge of gravel hill, which, high and bluff towards the west, gradually loses itself in the plain towards the east. This gravel is in some parts almost wholly composed of fragments of limestone, in others, siliceous stones predominate; they are of various sizes, more or less rounded, and form sometimes a loose gravel, and sometimes are cemented into a hard rock. The soil is very cavernous, probably from this difference of structure, and particularly so towards the east end, where the town of Vostizza stands. At the foot of the cliff there is a copious spring of good water, and by it a magnificent plane-tree. Vostizza has lately suffered by an earthquake, and the sea on this occasion is said to have bathed the lower branches of this tree, an elevation of about fifteen feet from its present level. Another range of hills behind Vostizza, higher and bolder than the gravelly eminences above-mentioned, I conjecture, from its forms, to be of sandstone, and again, behind these, there is a third range, more lofty and compact, which is covered with pines, and sprinkled with snow. The opposite hills of Albania are wild and dreary. Behind them we distinguished Parnassus, a ridge of the purest white.

We were glad to leave this place, and at last, on the 11th we set off with four mules towards Corinth. The day was fine, the scenery delightful, and the road for horses pretty good; we were obliged to turn out of our way towards Megaspeli, as the river which descends from it was unfordable, and it was necessary to seek the assistance of a bridge. We were far from regretting this interruption, as it brought us to the mouth of a most beautiful romantic valley, with more of an Alpine than an Apennine character, richly wooded even along the summits of the lofty crags, and bounded at the distance by snowy mountains. Afterwards we passed along a delightful natural terrace, which seems made for a road, and after recurring again for some time to the shore, crossed the mouth of a fine valley, which seems blocked up by a singular castle-like mountain, and thence, on a slope covered with Pinus halepensis, Arbutus Andrachne and Unedo, and a vast variety of evergreen shrubs. The hollows sheltered the oleander, and the crags above were covered with pines. At night we reached a khan, that is, a room with a good wood fire, which was kept up all night, and in which we found a mat, whereon we laid our quilts and reposed ourselves. The next day also we passed some beautiful spots. In one of these we had the scenery of a pleasure-ground, a beautiful lawn with scattered trees and shrubs; and the torrent beds covered with a fine sand, looked like winding, gravel walks beautifully fringed with oleander and other plants, but on the whole, the journey was less pleasant than that of the day before.

As we proceeded, Parnassus became a very conspicuous object on the opposite shore, and Helicon of much inferior elevation, looked when we first distinguished it, like a sculptor’s lion couchant without a head. I gathered the fruit of the myrtle-groves which we often had to traverse, and found the flavour much better than I expected. That of the Arbutus Andrachne is smaller and more insipid than the berries of the common arbutus, and these are not very good.

The third day was very cold, and the last half of the way over a bleak and naked plain to Corinth. We arrived there about four o’clock, and obtained a lodging at the house of a Fourlan physician, Andrea Simonetti, who supplied us with a very comfortable room, and with mattresses, and some other luxuries to sleep on; he makes no difficulty of receiving money, which is much better than if one had to pay him in presents, but he is rather greedy, and his son still more so. The wife of the latter secreted a silk handkerchief, which I did not discover till my arrival here. The old man had another son who died last summer; he praised him to us, and declared that his death had deprived him of all comfort; “c’è un altro, ma—” This ma was very expressive, and I could not help pitying him.

You may suppose we hastened to the temple figured in Stuart, the first building we saw of Grecian times. In his days eleven columns were still standing. Now there are only six, but it is yet a magnificent ruin, and pleased me better than I expected, for I had anticipated a heaviness in the enormously projecting capitals, which is not found in them. The material is sandstone, but it has been covered by a thin coat of hard stucco, of which traces are visible in some of the flutes, on one capital, and on the internal face of the architrave. In this stucco, instead of sand, the workmen appear to have used coarsely pounded crystals of calcareous spar, whose fragments still glitter in the sun. The columns, I think, have had an entasis, but the angles of the flutes are so much broken that it is impossible to be very decided on the subject. There are fragments of columns on a much larger scale in another place, and several portions of brick buildings, which must probably be attributed to Roman times. One to the east of the present town, of mixed brick and stone, has been an octagonal, domed chamber, with eight niches. In this direction there is also an amphitheatre sunk into the ground, not very large, nor magnificent. We traced the ancient city walls for some distance, but they present no particulars of much interest.

No traveller is permitted to pass the Isthmus by land without an order from the pashaw of Tripolizza, which it would require eight days to obtain. We were therefore once more obliged to try the sea, and leaving Corinth on the afternoon of the 15th, we rode to Cenchrea, and after some difficulties with the custom-house officer, stretched ourselves in the boat, and were awakened next morning at four o’clock with the intelligence that we were in the harbour of the Piræus. The custom-house again was the source of some delay, but in the mean time we sent up to the city for horses, and before ten arrived at Athens.