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TMJE KIFJE jtND

WOMKS

BY/

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TUT.
i:...:

ri.h.l.

s I'KKJ-VI.

FINDEN'S

ILLUSTRATIONS
OF THE

LIFE

AND WORKS
OF

LORD BYRON.
WITH ORIGINAL AND SELECTED INFORMATION ON THE
SUBJECTS OF THE ENGRAVINGS
BY

W.

BROCKEDON,

MEMBER OF THE ACADEMIES OF FINE ARTS AT FLORENCE AND AT ROME

AUTHOR OF " THE PASSES OF .THE ALPS,"

VOL.

*c.

I.

LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET:
SOLD ALSO BY

CHARLES

TILT,

FLEET STREET.

1833.

Cob

2,

LONDON:
J.

MOVES, CASTLE STRKKT, LKICKSTKR SQUARE.

ADVERTISEMENT.

IT has been thought desirable, in

making up

Eight Numbers

Landscape

the

first

and Portrait

of these

Illustrations of

Volume, to arrange them

LORD BYRON

in

a manner

into a

less de-

sultory than

was the unavoidable order of

publication,

and to accompany the Plates with

their

accounts of the subjects of the Engravings, from

authors of eminence and from original sources.

The
in a

First

is

complete form

Numbers
tion,

Volume

of the

be adapted

thus presented to the Public

;

and the succeeding Eight

Work
in

upon their publicathe same way, and form an

will,

elegant accession to the drawing-room table and

to the library of illustrated works.

VILLENEUVE.
TITLE-VIGNETTE.
Drawn

THE approach

by C. Stanjield, A.R.A.

to the lake of

Geneva from

the side of the canton of the Pays de Vaud,

striking beauty,

which seldom

tion of the traveller.

The

fails to arrest

lofty

Italy,
is

on

one of

the atten-

mountains that bound

the northern shores of this extremity of the lake spring

almost abruptly from the water's edge

Chillon appears in the extreme distance.

the castle of

Yet

it

was

amidst these scenes, on the shores of the lake of Geneva,

that Lord Byron, as he writes in his journal, Septem-

ber 18, 1816, " met an English party in a carriage; a

lady in

it

fast

asleep

fast

narcotic place in the world

asleep in the most anti-

excellent!"

LIST OF PLATES.

Drawn

Subject.

VILLENEUVE (TITLE
GIBRALTAR
LACHIN Y GAIR
LACHIN Y GAIR
MISS

J.M.W. TURNER, R.A.

REV.

C. STANFIELD, A.H.A.

J.

D.GLENNIE.

F. G. ROBSON.

CHAWORTH

BELEM CASTLE,

From a Sketch by

by

C. STANFIELD, A.R.A.

VIGNETTE)

F. STONE.

LISBON

(ORIGINAL MINIATURE.)

C. STANFIELD, A.R.A.

LISBON, FROM FORT ALMADA

C. STANFIELD, A.R.A.

W.

CINTRA

C. STANFIELD, A.H.A.

CAPT. ELLIOT.

MAFRA

D.ROBERTS.

C. LANDSEER.

MAID OF SARAGOZA

F. STONE.

CADIZ
CAGLIARI,

PAGE.

LIEHT.-COL. BATTY.

W.
W.

SARDINIA

ETNA
MALTA

WESTALL,
PURSER.

A.R.A.

J.M.W.TURNEH.R.A.

PATRASS
ITHACA
SANTA MAURA

G. CATTERMOLE.
C. STANFIELD, A.R.A.
C. STANFIELD, A.R.A.

CORFU
YANINA
ALI PACHA

C. STANFIELD, A.H.A.

DELPHI
CORINTH

C. STANFIELD, A.R.A.

C. STANFIELD, A.R.A.
F. STONE.

C. STANFIELD,

A. R.A.

THE ACROPOLIS, ATHENS

J.M. W.TURNER, R.A.
TEMPLE OF JUPITER OLYMPIUS,)
fC. STANFIELD. A.R.A.

ATHENS

OLYMPIUS,^

W.

PAGE.

T. ALLASON.

W.

PAGE.

STANFIELD) A-B A
.

PAGE

MAID OF ATHENS
F. STONE.
FRANCISCAN CONVENT, ATHENS.... C. STANFIELD,
CAPE COLONNA
W. PURSER.
TEMPLE OF MINERVA,
)

CAPE COLONNA,

(ORIGINAL SKETCH.)
W. PAGE.

TEMPLE OF JUPITER
AT ATHENS

W. PAGE.
W. PAGE.
W. PAGE.
W. PAGE.
W. PAGE.

SANTA SOPHIA, CONSTANTINOPLE

SANTA SOPHIA, FROM THE BOSPHORUS..

T. ALLASON.
A.H.A.

W.

PAGE.

J.M.W. TURNER, R.A.

T. ALLASON.

D. ROBERTS,

A.R.A.

W.

D. ROBERTS,

A.H.A.

R.COCKERELL,

PAGE.
A.R.A.

LIST OF PLATES.
Drawn

Subject.

SPOLETO

From a Sketch by

by

J.D.HARDING.

PIAZETTA,

S.

VENICE

MARGUERITA COGNI
VERONA

PROOT.

G. H. HAHLOWE.

W.

CALCOTT, B.A.

H. GASTENEAU.

BELLAGIO, LAKE OF COMO

THE SIMPLON, VILLAGE

H. GASTENEAU.

CHAMOUNI

J.

D. HARDING.

CASTLE OF CHILLON

J.

D. HABDING.

GENEVA

J-

D. HARDING.

THE RIGHT HON.

LADY NOEL BYRON W. J.

ADA

NEWTON.

F. STONE.

The following

W.
W.
W.

PAGE.
PAGE.

PAGE.

(ORIGINAL MINIATURE.)
(ORIGINAL MINIATURE.)

which were published by Mr. MURRAY in his

" Life and Works of LORD
BYRON,"
\2rno, of the

Vignettes,

complete edition, in
have been added to the 4to edition of these Illustrations.
Drawn

Subject.

by

From a Sketch by

PORTRAIT OF LORD BYRON

FROM A PICTURE BY

CADIZ
TEPELEEN, THE PALACE

SAUNDEF.S.

C. STANFIELD, A.R.A.

W.

OF ALI PACHA

PURSER.

CONSTANTINOPLE

C. STANFIELD, A.R.A.

MARATHON

C. STANFIELD, A.R.A.

A STREET IN ATHENS
THE WENGERN ALPS
THE COLOSSEUM, FROM

J.

D. HARDING.

FARNESE

C. STANFIELD, A.H.A.

THE ORTO

HAHDINO

W.

'

J. M. W. TURNER, H.A. W.
MARIA DELLA SPINA, PISA
W.
J. D. HARDING.
THE HELLESPONT
W. WESTALL, A.R.A.
NEWSTEAD ABBEY
W. WESTALL, A.R.A.
THE FOUNTAIN AT NEWSTEAD
HUCKNELL CHURCH, NOTTINGHAMSHIRE.. W. WESTALL, A.R.A.
J. M. W. TDKNEB, B.A. W.
THE PLAIN OF TROY
J. M. W. TURNER, R.A.
THE GATE OF THESEUS, ATHENS
J. M. W. TURNER, R.A.
BACHARACH, ON THE RHINE
J. M. W. TURNER, R.A.
THE CASTLE OF ST. ANGELO

STA

PAGE.

HULLMANDEL.

PAGE.
PAGE.

PAGE.

GIBRALTAR.
Drawn

"

by J.

M. W.

Turner, R.A.

Through Calpe's straits survey the steepy shore

Europe and Afric on each other gaze

Lands of the dark-eyed maid and dusky Moor."

Childe Harold, canto

" THE
promontory of Gibraltar
Calpe) derives

its

name from

ii.

st.

(the ancient

the Arabic,

'

22.

Mount

Jebal al

Tarik,' being the spot where Tarik, the Moorish leader,

landed to attack Spain.

been

erroneously

The town of Gibraltar has

supposed to be built on the

of the ancient Heraclea.

It

appears, however, that

Heraclea was situated near Carteia,

west of
visible.

Mount

No

origin, are

site

five miles to the

Calpe, where extensive ruins are

still

remains or coins, excepting of Moorish

found at Gibraltar.

The Moorish

castle,

whose massy towers are seen above the northern exto an Arabic
tremity of the town, was built, according
inscription

still visible,

in the time of the Caliph

soon after the period of his landing here.

Walid,

It is chiefly

constructed of tapia, or cement, moulded in frames,

GIBRALTAR.
and the whole incrusted with cement of a

finer quality

the cupolas and arches are of brick-work. These walls

and towers have become so indurated by time, that,

during the great siege, the shot from the enemy's

cannon made but little impression on them. Gibraltar

remained in possession of the Moors from the period

when they first took it, A. D. 711, for about seven

hundred and
possession of

fifty years,

On

it.

when

the Spaniards again got

the 23d of July, 1704, Sir George

Rooke, with the combined English and Dutch

cannonaded Gibraltar

fleets,

and a body of troops under the

Prince d'Armstadt having landed, part on the isthmus

north of the town, and part on the southern extremity
of the promontory, the place was

24th

after a

feeble

resistance,

summoned on

since remained.

Its

importance

surren-

this fortress

dered to the English, in whose possession

is

the

has ever

it

from

so great,

its

commanding
passage which connects the Mediterranean with the Atlantic, that attempts were made
the

in

1705 and 1727

in that

to dispossess the British

memorable period when

it

was

and

finally,

so nobly defended

by General Elliot, with a garrison varying

from five thousand to seven thousand men.

in

amount

The

first

operations of this famous siege took place in July 1779,

and were continued during that year, and also in 1780

and 1781. In this period the garrison was deprived of
regular communication with England, and could be

GIBRALTAR.
by the arrival of a powerful fleet this
was twice effected
once by Admiral Rodney, and subrelieved only

sequently by Admiral Darby.

At

Spaniards, aided by a numerous

in 1782, the

last,

and army from

France, made a grand attack by gun-boats and floating
batteries on the 13th of September; but a
discharge of
fleet

red-hot shot from the garrison fired and destroyed the

flotilla.

The

following month, a British fleet arrived

with succour, and, on the signature of peace in February

1783, the siege was relinquished, and this key to the

Mediterranean

still

appertains to Great Britain.

In a letter to Mr. Hodgson, dated Gibraltar, August

Lord Byron

"

have just arrived at

this place, after a journey through Portugal and a part
of Spain of nearly five hundred miles.
We left Lisbon,
6th, 1809,

says,

and travelled on horseback

to Seville

and Cadiz, and

thence in the Hyperion frigate to Gibraltar."

Byron

left

Gibraltar in the packet for Malta on the

19th of August.

He had intended to pass

over to Africa

but this he afterwards relinquished. Though he resided

a fortnight at Gibraltar, except the beautiful description

of his moonlight passage through the

straits, it

does not

appear that he found inspiration there for his muse.

The siege of Saragoza drew from him an immortal
record

of

made him

its

determined defence

was

it

caprice that

indifferent to the glories of his country,

on

the spot where they had shone most conspicuously in

GIBRALTAR.
and the whole incrusted with cement of a finer quality
and arches are of brick- work. These walls
the
:

cupolas

so indurated

by time, that,
the enemy's
from
the shot

and towers have hecome

during the great siege,

cannon made but little impression on them.

Gibraltar

remained in possession of the Moors from the period

when they first took it, A. D. 711, for about seven

hundred and
possession

of

fifty years,
it.

On

when

the Spaniards again got

the 23d of July, 1704, Sir George

and Dutch fleets,

Rooke, with the combined English
the
cannonaded Gibraltar and a body of troops under
isthmus
Prince d'Armstadt having landed, part on the
north of the town, and part on the southern extremity
:

of the promontory, the place

24th;

after a

feeble

was summoned on the

resistance,

dered to the English, in whose possession

since remained.

commanding

the

Its

importance

surren-

this fortress

is

it

has ever

from

so great,

terranean with the Atlantic, that attempts were

in

1705 and 1727

in that

its

connects the Medipassage which

to dispossess the British

memorable period

when

it

was

and

made

finally,

so nobly defended

garrison varying
by General Elliot, with
from five thousand to seven thousand men.

amount

in

The

first

famous siege took place in July 1779,

operations of this
and were continued during that year, and also in 1780
In this period the garrison was deprived of
communication with England, and could be

and 1781.
regular

GIBRALTAR.
relieved only

was twice

by the arrival of a powerful fleet this

once by Admiral
Rodney, and sub;

effected

sequently by Admiral Darby.

At

Spaniards, aided by a numerous

last,

in

1782, the

and army from

France, made a grand attack by gun-boats and
floating
batteries on the 13th of
of
September; but a
fleet

discharge
red-hot shot from the
garrison fired and destroyed the

The following month, a

flotilla.

British fleet arrived

with succour, and, on the

signature of peace in February
1783, the siege was relinquished, and this key to the

Mediterranean

6th,

still

appertains to Great Britain.

Mr. Hodgson, dated Gibraltar,

August
1809, Lord Byron says, " I have just arrived at

In a

letter to

this place, after

a journey through
Portugal and a part

of Spain of nearly five hundred miles.

We left

and travelled on horseback

and Cadiz, and

to Seville

Lisbon,

thence in the Hyperion frigate to Gibraltar."

Byron

left

Gibraltar in the packet for Malta on the

19th of August.

He had intended to pass

over to Africa

but this he afterwards relinquished.

Though he resided
a fortnight at Gibraltar, except the beautiful
description

of his moonlight passage through the

straits, it

does not

appear that he found inspiration there for his muse.

The

siege

record

of

made him

of Saragoza
its

drew from him an immortal

determined defence

was

it

caprice that

indifferent to the glories of his

country,

on

the spot where they had shone most

conspicuously in

GIBRALTAR.
the gallant and unparalleled defence of Gibraltar by
Elliot,

and the not

the British,
to so

when

humanity by

Curtis exposed himself and his crews

much danger

wreck and

less glorious display of

to rescue his Spanish

enemies from

fire in the destruction of their gun-boats

Fortunately for Lord Byron's reputation, the omission

not singular.

is

His poetical powers were often dormant

amidst scenes associated with events that needed not his

aid to immortality

scenes a thousand times

spiring, in the estimation of

over which his

common

muse has shed

in-

a lustre that has bright-

ened into notice places that would,

him, have remained unknown.

more

minds, than those

if

unmentioned by

LACHIN Y GAIR.
Drawn

"

by C. Stanfield,

A.R.A.from a Sketch by

the Rev. J.

Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of

In you
Restore

let the

me

Though

minions of luxury rove

roses

D. Glennie.

the rocks, where the snow-flake reposes,

still

they are sacred to freedom and love

Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains,

Round

summits though elements war

Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains,
I sigh for the
valley of dark Loch na Garr.
"

Ah

there

footsteps in infancy wander'd

my cloak was the plaid

my memory ponder'd,

chieftains long perish'd

As
I

my young

cap was the bonnet,

My
On

their white

daily I strode through the pine-cover'd glade

sought not

my home

till

the day's dying glory

Gave place to the rays of the bright polar

For fancy was cheered by traditional story,

star

Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr.

" Shades of the dead

have

not heard your voices

Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale

Surely the soul of the hero rejoices,

And

rides

on the wind

o'er his

own Highland

vale.

LACHIN Y GAIR.
Round Loch na Garr
Winter presides

while the stormy mist gathers,

in his cold
icy car

Clouds there encircle the forms of

my

fathers

They dwell in the tempests of dark Loch na Garr.

" Years have rolled
on, Loch na Garr, since
Years must elapse ere I tread you again
Nature of verdure and

Yet

still

England

has bereft you,

flow'rs

thy beauties are tame and domestic

the mountains afar

steep frowning glories

and majestic
of dark Loch na Garr

for the crags .that are wild

The

you,

are you dearer than Albion's plain.

To one who has roved on

Oh

I left

!"

Hours of Idleness.

" IN the summer of the

year 1796,
of scarlet fever, he was removed by
change of

air into the

Highlands

and

after

his
it

this time, or in the following year, that

their residence in a

of Ballater,

an attack

mother

was

for

either at

they took up

farm-house in the neighbourhood

a favourite

summer

resort for health

and

gaiety, about forty miles up the Dee from Aberdeen.

where they still shew with much

pride the bed on which young Byron slept, has become

Though

this house,

naturally a place of pilgrimage for the worshippers of

genius, neither

its

own

appearance, nor that of the

small bleak valley in which

of being associated with the

a short distance of

it,

it

stands,

memory

however,

is

at all

of a poet.

all

worthy
Within

those features of

LACHIN Y GAIR.
wildness and beauty which

through the Highlands

the dark summit

mark

may

many

Dee
Here

be commanded.

of Lachin y Gair stood towering before

the eyes of the future bard

not

the course of the

afterwards,

years

and the verses

in which,

he commemorated

this

sublime object, shew that, young as he was at the time,

'
its
frowning glories' were not unnoticed by him."

Moore's Life of Lord Byron.

The view here given

from a sketch made by the

is

D. Glennie, from within a short distance of the

near Ballater, where
cottage or farm of Ballatrech,
Lord Byron was taken when a boy and to such scenes
Rev.

J.

in the

Highlands

around him, his early

as lay

inspi-

and the beautiful in nature may

Lachin y Gair, in this view, is the most

rations of the grand

be traced.

from near Byron's residence. It

one of the highest mountains in Scotland
rising

distant object seen

is

about four thousand feet above the level of the sea,

and takes
lies at

nite,

name from a

little

lake, or lochan,

which overhang
is

it

an elevation of 1,300

at

said, as usual of all

be unfathomable

but

it

is

nor

concealed

under the
even when

exceedingly deep, and

it

passes a long

debris of the
it

feet.

such mountain tarns,

the small stream which flows from

way

which

the base of some vast precipices of gray gra-

This lake
to

its

mountain

reaches the

heather

submerges
and the moss, beneath which the ear alone traces

LACHIN Y GAIR.
its

course, except such occasional glimpses as

foam sometimes

The Rev.

amidst

betrays

D. Glennie, who

J.

its

dark

visited the

its

white

recesses.*

scenes in

the Grampians which are associated with Byron, says,

"

We

asked our guide, a sturdy old Highlander of

seventy,

whom we

could scarcely restrain from walking

up the hills, whether there were any fish

the lochan on which he told us, with a mysterious

too fast for us

in

look, and

in

fine fish too,

had heard
sport for

an under tone, that there were plenty, and

hut nobody ever fished there for, ' as he
;

had good
he observed a man on

say,' the last person that tried

some time, but

at last

it

the opposite side of the lake, under the rock,

fishing

throwing his line exactly as he did, and pulling

out fish only when he did it himself.
Not knowing
also,

what

to

shifted

make

of so strange a circumstance, the

angler

ground, when, wonderful to relate

his

opposite neighbour at once vanished

He was

his

evidently

* It was facts like

these, which, observed by Byron, stored his
beautiful images from nature as that which describes

mind with such

the expression of Selim in the Bride of Abydos

" As

By

the stream late concealed

the fringe of

When
In

it

its

willows,

rushes reveal'd

the light

of its billows

As the ball bursts on high,

From the black cloud that bound

it,

Flash'd the soul of that eye

Through the long lashes round

it."

LACHIN Y GAIR.
no canny,' added the old man, and nobody
has ever fished in that loch since." In these regions of
'

something

mist, such

an apparition might very probably occur,

and would be sure

make

to

a lasting impression upon

the fears and imaginations of the superstitious Highlanders.

In the view of Lachin y Gair, from Mr. Glennie's

sketch, the village of Ballater

is

seen rather on the

near the banks of the river Dee.

left,

Its principal objects

are also shewn in a view given in " Robson's Grampian

Scenery," taken from near the same spot, and are thus
described in that

work

" The
pass of Ballater (which

on the right of this scene) forms the grand eastern

entrance to the Highlands.
It is a very narrow strait,

lies

have been produced by some great convulsion of nature, which has rent a mountainous ridge

and appears

into

two

at the

to

parts,

and

left

bottom of which

defile is

an awful chasm between them,

is

of the mountain.

The

forming the channel of a river

" To the south of the

which appears

remarkable

for

strife,

and the ruins

pass of Ballater differs from most

of the other great passes in the

it is

side of this

covered with huge stones and masses of rock

the tremendous effects of elemental

valley

Each

the road.

river

Grampian range, by not

it is a mere mountain rift.

Dee

is

Glen Muich, the

to turn to the left

fine cataract,

from Ballater

formed by the river

of the glen, which, after running through a tract of

LACHIN Y GAIR.
level

moor,

falls at

once

down a perpendicular rock

of

semicircular form, into a hole of so great a depth, that,

according to Mr. Pennant,

to

it is

supposed by the vulgar

be bottomless.

" Lachin
y Gair, which occasionally displays its
lofty and perpendicular cliffs over the ridges in the

we

south-west, increases in dignity of appearance

as

advance up the north side of the valley

broad

its

summit gradually assumes a more pointed form, as the

angle of vision changes, and the mountain becomes foreAfter passing the village of

shortened by perspective.

Crathy, the sinking ridges that stretch along the opposite

shores of the river disclose the lower regions of

this noble hill."

In the very interesting account of the great floods of

the province of Moray, in August 1829, by Sir

Dick Lauder,

Thomas

Bt., the sudden and vast increase of the

torrent of the Dee,

and

its

destructive effects at Ballater,

are related, and with almost the only comic incidents

connected with this awful catastrophe.

"The

village of Ballater,

formed of regular

streets,

crossing each other at right angles, covers a considerable extent of ground immediately below the bend of

the river, and about 12 feet above the ordinary level of

the stream.

Mr. Telford,

The

beautiful stone bridge, designed

by

consisting of five arches, with an aggre-

gate water-way of 200

feet,

was thrown across from

LACHIN Y GAIR.
the centre of the great square to the opposite bank, in

1819, at an expense of 5000/.

" The rain and hurricane on the 3d of

August, at
Ballater, was attended, in the evening, by the brightest
lightning,

and the loudest thunder, ever seen or heard

and the same shock of earthquake which was

experienced elsewhere was sensibly felt by different
there

individuals in the village and

Dee

rose gradually

when

same

the

was observed
bitants,

now
is

its

about eleven o'clock at night,

till

partial

subsidence took place which

in all the other rivers

thinking that

all

and the inha-

cause for apprehension was

over, retired to rest in full confidence.

always crowded, during the

invalids

The

neighbourhood.

Ballater

summer months, with

and other

visitors, brought together by the

fame of the chalybeate wells of Pananich, which spring
from the side of the wooded hill on the right bank of

the river

or attracted by the salubrity of the air, and

the grandeur of the surrounding scenery.

the height of the season,

and not a house

This was

in the village

was without some inmate of more than ordinary consequence. Among these was a lady, who was suddenly
disturbed, about half an hour after midnight, by voices

talking loud and earnestly under her

ominous words,

'

'

flood,'

'

deluge,'

window

and the

drooned,' and

'

hae

mercy on us a' !' having reached her ears, she thought

time to inquire what had occasioned them.
it was

LACHIN Y GAIR.
a number of passengers as

so great

Nor was

defiance.

laws at

there any great ceremony used in

manner of bestowing

the

set the

this overload of human beings.

Ladies and gentlemen, young and old, fat and lean,

strangers to each other, were all huddled in together,
all

anxious to escape, but each wishing that the rest had

been away, or at least that an introduction had taken

place under other circumstances.

Many

a fair creature

had her slumbers rudely broken and a blanket being

thrown around her, she was scarcely conscious of what
;

passed,

till

she found herself hoisted in the arms of

some hero, who,

rejoicing at the accident,

and proud of

was seen gallantly plunging along,

middle-deep, with an air that might have done honour
his precious burden,

to a quadrille.

how many

It is impossible to say

the tedious outworks of courtship were swept

of

away by

the flood at Ballater.

"

Still

the waters went on increasing, and so rapidly

did they gain on the village, that the house to which

the lady and her party had

fled for

refuge

inundated in half an hour after they reached

they were again compelled to move.

Still

was
it,

so

that

was the

crowd of provincial fashionables

on.
ters,

to be seen floundering
In the midst of a terrified group of grown daugh-

who were hanging around

her, one lady clung to

her worthy husband and their dear papa,

man, who was rather

corpulent,

till

the good

had been nearly pressed

LACHIN Y GAIR.

down

the water by the weight of their united

into

'

Call you this a watering-place ?' exclaimed

shook himself good-naturedly free of them, on
reaching a dry spot, and began to get a little freer

embraces.
he, as he

'

you catch

if

breathing

this gate,

I'll

alloo ye to

me coming

a-watering again

mak' a waterkelpie

me.'

o'

" Few of the houses of the

village suffered much
but, as many of them were filled from four to six feet
;

deep of water, a great deal of furniture was destroyed.

The most deplorable loss was that of the magnificent
bridge.

The appearance of the ruins, when I saw them,

window of the inn, with a ruined

as viewed from the

flower-garden in the foreground, was truly lamentable

nothing remaining but the two land-breasts of the north

and south arches, and a

tall, spectre-like

fragment of a

central pier, rearing itself from the midst of the

tri-

umphant stream, as if quivering from dread of its utter

annihilation. The whole crops of the fertile plain below
the village were of course completely destroyed.

" The view of

Ballater, from the lower extremity of
I do not speak
the plain, is something quite exquisite.
of the village
little

rising

from

which, at that distance, presents

itself,

more than the

it;

nature by which

indication of a town, with a steeple

but
it is

allude to the grand features of

surrounded.

The very smallness

moun-

of the town, indeed, adds to the altitude of the

tains

for,

when

seen from the point I mean,

it

might

LACHIN Y GAIR.
be a city for aught the traveller knows to the contrary.
It

stands half hidden

On

diversified vale.

among

trees

in the

rich

and

the north rises the mountainous

rock of Craigdarroch, luxuriantly wooded with birch,

and divided

off

from the bounding mountains of that

side of the valley

by the wild and anciently impregnable

Beyond the river, amidst an infinite

Pass of Ballater.
variety of slopes

tower of
tance,

Knock

till

and woods,
;

is

and behind

the prospect

is

shivered front, and (when

seen the
it

tall

old hunting-

distance rises over dis-

terminated by the long and

I

saw

it

ber last) the snow-covered ridge

on the 15th of Octoof Lochnagar,

the

nurse of the sublime genius of Byron, who, in his beautiful little

"

'

poem,

so entitled,

still

"
Sighs for the valley of dark Loch-na-gar."

LACHIN Y GAIR.
Drawn

"

He who

first

by F. G. Robson.

met the Highland's swelling blue

Will love each peak that shews a kindred hue,

Hail in each crag a friend's familiar face,

And

clasp the mountain in his mind's embrace.

Long have

roam'd through lands which are not mine,

Adored the Alp, and loved the Appennine,

Revered Parnassus, and beheld the steep
Jove's Ida

But

and Olympus crown the deep

Their nature held

The

'twas not all long ages' lore, nor all

infant rapture

And Loch na Garr

me

in their thrilling thrall

survived the boy,

still

with Ida look'd o'er Troy,

Mix'd Celtic memories with the Phrygian mount,

And Highland

linns with Castalie's clear fount."

Island, canto

THESE
of

Lord

lines are in a

Byron's

poem

death,

which the scenes of

his

ii.

St.

12.

written within two years

and mark the impressions

boyhood had made upon his

" When
feelings and his memory.
very young," he
"
about eight years of age, after an
adds in a note,
attack of the scarlet fever at Aberdeen, I was removed,
by medical advice, into the Highlands

and from

this

LACHIN Y GAIR.
period

date

my

love of mountainous

can never forget the

countries.

a few years afterwards, in

eifect,

miniature, of a mountain, in

had long seen, even in

the Malvern Hills.
After

returned to Cheltenham,

used to watch them every

England, of the only thing

afternoon, at sunset, with a sensation which

cannot

describe."

" Where

it

case with Lord

"

happens," says Moore,

Byron

in Greece, that the

as

was the

same peculiar

which memory has shed this

charm, are reproduced before the eyes under

features of nature, over

reflective

new and

inspiring circumstances,

and with

accessories

which an imagination

its full

in

the

all

vigour and

wealth can lend them, then, indeed, do both the past

and present combine to make the enchantment comand never was there a heart more borne away
plete
;

by
a

this confluence of feelings

poem

than that of Byron.

In

written about a year or two before his death,"

" he traces

the

poem and passage above

his

enjoyment of mountain scenery to the impressions

quoted,-

received during his residence in the Highlands

all

and

even attributes the pleasure which he experienced in

gazing upon Ida and Parnassus, far

remembrances than

to classic

fond and deep-felt asso-

by which they brought back the memory of

boyhood and Lachin y Gair."
In every recurrence to these early scenes, even in

ciations
his

to those

less

LACH1N Y GAIR.

poems which spring from gloomy feelings, his memory

refreshes his spirit, as the mountain air gave him health
and energy
" When

And

in his ramhles

roved a young Highlander o'er the dark heath,

climb'd thy steep summit, oh, Morven

of snow,

To gaze on the torrent that thunder'd beneath,

Or the mist of the tempest that gathered below
I

rose with the

dawn

From mountain
I

to

with

mountain

my dog
I

as

my

guide,

bounded along

breasted the billows of Dee's rushing tide,

And heard

at a distance the Highlander's song."

Hours of

was amidst such

It

scenes,

as

the

Idleness.

view which

Mr. Robson's drawing presents, that Byron rambled

mountains and the glens of this part of the

in the

Grampian range.
Gair

rises

Here " the summit of Lachin y

over the centre of the distant group.

The

eminence towards the right side of the plate, on which

is scattered a birch-wood, is called the
Craig of Clunie
;

at its base is the river

more towards the

table

left,

Dee
is

middle distance,

Invercauld House, the hospi-

mansion of Mr. Farquharson.

ated in the midst of the

Grampians,

valley, watered by the Dee

is

in the

Invercauld
in a flat

and

is situ-

fertile

the west side of this valley

screened by bold rocks, which are adorned with

aged birch- trees

the hills that rise opposite to these

LACHIN Y GAIR.
have a more prolonged ascent, and are invested with
the deep green of Scotch

fir,

which

or the pine, with

the pale hue of the birch occasionally mingles.

eminences that

rise

to the south

The

and are connected

with the great mountain of Lachin y Gair, have on

their

sides

an extensive

forest of large

and ancient

on the north, the rocky front of Ben y Bourd

forms a fine boundary to the scene, in an extended
pines

range of precipices, whose summits retain traces of

snow throughout the year."

" As a
picturesque object, few mountains

Grampian range are more

Gair. Though its summit
great extent,

it

far

is

elegant contour,

for

stretches horizontally to a

from presenting a heavy or ineven where its broad front is

it is

by gentle inflections or pointed asperities.

its

highest pinnacle

is

diversified

The

peculiar

another circumstance

of characteristic beauty, which distinguishes this

tain

from

its

the

interesting than Lachin y

displayed to the spectator, the brow of

acuteness of

in

more lumpish neighbours

moun-

but the most

sublime feature of Lachin y Gair consists in those im-

mense perpendicular

cliffs

impressive grandeur to

its

of granite, which give such

north-eastern aspect.

This

stupendous precipice extends upwards of a mile and a

half in length, and

its

height

is

from 950

to

1300

feet.

Lachin y Gair does not enjoy the advantages of an

insulated

situation

with respect to the neighbouring

LACHIN Y GAIR.
hills.

On

the west

is

it

connected with a number of

mountains, which extend far into the adjacent

counties but viewed from some of the stations which

lofty

the

banks of the Dee

those obstructions to

which the

inferior

to the spectator

may

afford, its

a display of

altitude
its

surmounts

majestic form,

eminences contiguous

to

it

present

and the mountain of Lachin y gair

justly be esteemed the finest feature that occurs

in the eastern portion of the

Grampian chain."

Robsoris Scenery of the Grampians.

,,

SUB e
(Paoll

AN

EHLW:<S>IIWfflt

ORK-JNAI. AT THE

AOE

tV wa* MB
The ocean

\i<

Uir

rivt-i-

OF 17

lift-

<f his UiouRli

MISS CHAWORTH.
Drawn by F.

"

had been long

of

in love with

M. A.
it

C.,

and never

without.

sensations, but cannot describe them,

Lord Byron

well."

THE

from an Original Miniature.

though she had discovered

it,

my

Stone,

told

I recollect

and

it

is

as

Diary.

and imperishable affection which was felt

by Lord Byron for this lady, and the influence which
early

the destruction of his hopes, not deferred but crushed,

had upon

his future conduct

from

to

first

last,

directly in

and happiness, present,

the

expressions of his

feeling, or indirectly in its influence

the most prominent

ter,

feature

upon
the

in

his characlife

of this

extraordinary man.

"

It

was

in the year 1803," says

heart, already twice, as

we have

the childish notion that

it

ment which
feeling

sunk

young
so

" that

his

seen, possessed with

loved, conceived an attach-

as he was, even then, for such a

deep into his mind as

to give

a colour

That unsuccessful loves are genethe most lasting, is a truth, however sad, which

to all his future

rally

Moore,

life.

unluckily did not require this instance to confirm

it.

MISS

To

the same cause,

CHAWORTH.

I fear,

must be traced the

perfect

romance which distinguish this very

early attachment to Miss Chaworth from the many

innocence and

others that succeeded, without effacing

The young poet was

it

in his heart."

in his sixteenth year,

and the

The

object of his attachment about two years older.

family of Miss Chaworth resided at Annesley, in the

immediate neighbourhood of Newstead

and when
Lord Byron was on a visit to the latter place, then in
;

the occupation of Lord

Gray de Ruthven, he renewed

an intimacy with the Chaworths, which had begun a
short time before in London
and during the six weeks
;

of his

visit,

which he now passed

com-

chiefly in her

pany, he drank deep of fascination, and laid the foundation of that unfortunate affection
life,

and

lasted his

own

which he has given an immortality.

Miss Chaworth was an heiress of large estates, and
to

possessed of

much

personal beauty

of two years in their ages

years later,

her

which

but the difference

a difference which, two

would scarcely have been observed

feel that his

was the

affection of a

was conscious of being a woman.

boy

It

for

made
one

was impossible

that she could be insensible of his love for her

Byron was aware that her

another.

and

had been given

to

His own mention of his love for her, and the

circumstances attending
trifled

affections

who

with his feelings,

must acquit her of

having
or indulged hopes which she

it,

MISS

never intended to

when he took

CHAWORTH.
Byron used

realise.

say, that

to

on the hill near

" no one could have told how much he
Annesley,
felt
for his countenance was calm, and his feelings
" The next time I see
restrained."
said he in
his last farewell of her

you,"

" I
parting with her,
suppose you will be Mrs. Cha" I
*
?"
Her
answer
worth
was,
hope so." His recollection of this scene
his

produced that exquisite passage in

" The
works, of which Moore has said,
picture

which he has drawn of

his youthful love,

'

the most interesting of his poems,

in one of

the Dream,' shews

how genius and feeling can elevate the realities of life,

and give to the commonest events and objects an undying lustre."
"

saw two beings

Standing upon a

in the
hill,

Green and of mild

hues of youth

a gentle

hill,

declivity, the last

As

'twere the cape of a long ridge of such,

Save that there was no sea to lave its base,

But a most

living landscape,

Of woods and

cornfields,

and the wave

and the abodes of men

Scatter'd at intervals, and wreathing

Arising from such rustic roofs;

Was

smoke

the hill

crown'd with a peculiar diadem

Of trees,

in circular array, so fix'd,

* Mr. Musters took her

name, and continued to use

time after his marriage with Miss Chaworth.

it

for

some

CHAWORTH.

MISS

Not by the

man

sport of nature, but of

These two, a maiden and a youth, were there

the one on all that was beneath
Gazing
but the boy gazed on her;

Fair as herself

And
And

both were young, and one was beautiful

both were young

As the sweet moon on

The maid was on

yet not alike

in youth.

the horizon's verge,

the eve of

womanhood

The boy had fewer summers, but his heart

Had far outgrown his years, and to his eye

There was but one beloved face on earth,
And

that

Upon

He

was shining on him

it till it

could not pass away

had no breath, no being, but

She was

his voice

For

eye follow'd hers,

his

Which

colour'd

all his

live within himself;

The ocean

touch of hers,
his

she was his sight,

and saw with

objects

was

she

his life,

upon a tone,
blood would ebb and

all

his

as a brother

him

For brotherless she was, save

Her

infant friendship

share

to her he

but no more

in the

flow,

his heart

cheek change tempestuously

sighs were not for

Even

hers,

he had ceased

Unknowing of its cause of agony.

But she in these fond feelings had no
Her

to the river of his thoughts,

Which terminated

And

in hers

he did not speak to her,

But trembled on her words

To

he had look'd

was

'twas

much,

name

had bestow'd on him

Herself the solitary scion

left

MISS

Of

CHA WORTH.

a time-honour'd race.

It

was a name

and why
pleased him, and yet pleased him not
Time taught him a deep answer
when she loved

Which

Another ; even now she loved another,

And on
Looking

the

summit of that

hill

she stood

afar if yet her lover's steed

Kept pace with her expectancy, and

flew.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.

There was an ancient mansion, and before
Its walls there

was a steed caparison'd

Within an antique oratory stood

he was alone,
The boy of whom I spake
And pale, and pacing to and fro anon
;

He

sat

him down, and seized a pen, and traced

Words which

could not guess of

then he lean'd

His bow'd head on his hands, and shook as 'twere

With a convulsion

And

then arose again,

with his teeth and quivering hands did tear

What he had written but he shed no tears.

And he did calm himself, and fix his brow
Into a kind of quiet

as he paused

The lady of his love re-enter'd there

She was serene and smiling then, and yet
she knew,
She knew she was by him beloved,
;

For quickly comes such knowledge, that his heart

Was darken'd with her shadow, and she saw
That he was wretched, but she saw not all.
He rose, and with a cold and gentle grasp

He

took her hand

moment

o'er his face

MISS

CHAWORTH.

tablet of unutterable thoughts

Was traced, and then it faded, as it came

He dropp'd the hand he held, and with slow
;

steps

Retired, but not as bidding her adieu,

For they did part with mutual smiles

From out

he pass'd

the massy gate of that old hall,

And mounting on his steed he went his way

And ne'er repass'd that hoary threshold more."
;

The following lines, written in 1811, will shew with

what gloomy fidelity, even while under the pressure
of recent sorrow, the poet reverted to this disappoint-

ment

of his early affection

" 'Twere
long to tell, and vain
The tale of one who scorns a

And

there

Which

is little

But mine has

I've seen

suit

my

in that tale

suffer'd

more than well

Philosophy to

tell.

bride another's bride,

Have seen her

Have seen

tear

bosoms would bewail.

better

'Twould

to hear

seated by his side,

the infant which she bore

Wear

the sweet smile the mother bore,

When

she and

As fond and
Have seen
Ask

if

in

youth have smiled

faultless as her child

her eyes, in cold disdain,

I felt

no secret pain.

And J have acted well my part,

And made my cheek belie my heart

MISS

CHAWORTH.

Return'd the freezing glance she gave,

Yet

felt

Have

shew'd, alas

without design,

kiss'd, as if

The babe which ought

And

woman's slave

the while that

to

have been mine,

each caress,

in

Time had not made me love

the less."

Another beautiful address to her was written a few

days after Byron had been invited to dine at Annesley.

When

the infant daughter of Mrs. Chaworth, his fair

was brought into the room, he started involuntarily, and with the utmost difficulty suppressed
hostess,

To

moment we

his

emotion.

are

indebted for the following intense expression of

feeling

his

sensations at that

" Well

thou art happy, and

That
For

should thus be happy too

still

my

Warmly,

let

as

When
I

it

was wont

and

blest

to do.

'twill

impart

to view his happier lot

Oh

them pass

Would

heart regards thy weal

Thy husband's
Some pangs
But

I feel

hate him,

if

how my

heart

he loved thee not

saw thy favourite child,

thought my jealous heart would break
late I

But when the unconscious

I kiss'd it for its

infant smiled,

mother's sake.

MISS

and

I kiss'd it,

CHAWORTH.
repress'd

my

Its father in its face to see

But then

And

had

it

its

they were

sighs

mother's eyes,

all to

love and me.

Mary, adieu I must away

While thou are blest I'll not repine
But near thee I can never stay ;
:

heart would soon again be thine.

My
I

deem'd that time,

Had

My

seated

till

heart in

Yet was

My

deem'd that pride

quench'd at length

Nor knew,

all,

calm

my

by thy

boyish flame

knew

to tremble

We met,

the same.

the time

were a crime

sullen calmness of despair.

away my early dream

Remembrance never must awake

Away
!

only feeling could'st thou trace

The

Oh

and not a nerve was shook.

saw thee gaze upon my face,

Yet meet with no confusion there

One

side,

save hope,

breast would thrill before thy look

But now

where

My

is

Lethe's fabled stream

foolish heart,

be

still,

or break."

" Our
Again, in 1821, in his Diary, he writes:
union would have healed feuds in which blood had

MISS

CHAWORTH.

would have joined lands

would have joined at least one

been shed by our fathers

broad and rich

it

it

and two persons not ill matched

and
and
two years my elder), and

in years (she

heart,

is

what has been

In another mention, in 1822, of his deep,

the result?"

" Our
meetings were stolen
ones, and a gate leading from Mr. Chaworth's grounds
to those of my mother was the place of our interviews
unalterable

affection

but the ardour was

was

volatile

all

on

was

and laughed at
me her picture, and that was something

Had

upon.

my

serious

she liked

treated

of

she

my
me as a younger brother, and
me as a boy she, however, gave
side.

life

Many

to

make

verses

married her, perhaps the whole tenour

would have been

different."

exquisite stanzas record the frequent, almost

constant, recurrence of his blighted happiness.

Those

beginning,

" And

wilt

thou weep when

am

low ?"-

And"

When man

expell'd from Eden's bowers."

Again
" Tis done

and shivering

in the gale."

These and others will be found in " Hours of Idleness,"

and " Occasional Pieces," in the seventh volume, 12mo.
of his Life and

Works.

MISS

What

CHAWORTH.

increases the melancholy character of this un-

fortunate and unrequited attachment,

is,

that the lady's

marriage was an unhappy one. Lord Byron says, in

" Miss Chaan unpublished letter written in 1823
:

worth married a

man

of an ancient and respectable

family, but her marriage was not a happier one than

Her conduct, however, was irreproachable

but there was not sympathy between their characters.

my
I

own.

had not seen her

offered.

paying her a

more

me

for

many

was upon the

visit,

not to do

me

when an

occasion

point, with her consent,

when my

influence over

years,

sister,

who

than any one

of

has always had

else,

persuaded

it."

Miss Chaworth was married in

August 1805, and
died at Wiverton Hall, in
February 1832, in consebelieved, of the alarm

and danger to which

she had been exposed
during the sack of Colwick Hall,
a
The unforby
party of rioters from Nottingham.
quence,

it is

tunate lady had been in a feeble state of health for

and she and her daughter were

obliged
take shelter from the violence of the mob in a

several years,
to

shrubbery, where, partly from cold, partly from terror,

her constitution sustained a shock which it wanted

vigour to

resist.

BELEM CASTLE,
LISBON.
Drawn

"

by C. Stanfield, A.R.A.

On, on the

vessel

And winds

are rude in Biscay's sleepless bay.

flies,

the land

is

Four days are sped, but with the

New

gone,

fifth,

And Cintra's
And Tagus dashing onwards

to the deep,

His fabled golden tribute bent to pay

And
And

anon,

make

every bosom gay

mountain greets them on their way,

shores descried

soon on board the Lusian pilots leap,

steer 'twixt fertile shores,

where yet few

rustics reap."

Childe Harold, canto

St.

i.

14.

" ABOUT twelve

" from
leagues," says Mr. Kinsey,

Cape Feizerao,

is

the lofty promontory of the Calco

da Rocca, commonly termed by the British navigators

'

the

Rock of

Lisbon,'

which forms the termination of

the high chain of mountains that run in the direction

of Cintra towards the sea.

The highest point

vation to which this Serra de Cintra attains

eighteen hundred feet

Penha convent

is

the

is

of ele-

about

summit, on which the

situated (and

which may be

clearly

BELEM CASTLE, LISBON.

distinguished at sea, off the rock, in fine weather, and
early in the morning), wanting about eighty feet of

That more immediately of the rock of

that height.

Lisbon, perpendicularly taken,

than two hundred

The

beneath.
the

be something

may

less

feet

above the level of the shore

is

rocky and dangerous; but on

coast

summit of the rock there

a tower for a light-

is

house, of whose utility let sailors speak

short

to the rear of the light-house, the land rises

up

way
into

the mountainous ridge, extending towards the northeast, in the direction of Cintra,

and which we have

already designated as the Serra de Cintra.

Serra

remarkable

is

for

The whole

the numerous uneven

and

detached eminences which successively present themselves to the eye.

situated

on

its

the Atlantic

The

of Cintra'

is

commands a view

of

glorious

northern slope, and

down a

Eden

'

lovely vale, through the orchards

and lemon-groves of Colares.

" About six miles from the Rock of
Lisbon, towards
the east, and near the light-house of Nossa Senhora

da Guia
S.

(after passing the forts of

Gorge, and Fort Torre),

is

Guincho,

S.

Braz,

the point of land which

forms the western horn of the Bay of Cascaes, upon

whose low

flat

beach

is

situated the

town of that name,

at a distance of about fifteen miles from Lisbon, de-

fended by Fort Santa Marta.

the pilots

who

The

chief residence of

take charge of ships over the bar at

BELEM CASTLE, LISBON.

mouth

the

of the Tagus

up to Lisbon, is at Cascaes.
and
the Torre de Santo Juliao
place
da Barra, a distance of five miles, there are no less
Between

this

than eight

forts of considerable strength.

St. Julian is

The

castle of

an imposing structure, proudly elevated on

a steep promontory that entirely

commands

the north-

western entrance into the Tagus, whose course here

runs in the direction of east -south -east, cutting the
province of Estremadura into two unequal portions."

The entrance
"

to the

Portuguese pilot

Tagus

thus described

is

now came on

was more a matter of

board, but appa-

upon the
captain to take him, than for any use which seemed to
be made of his services. It was blowing a hard gale
rently

it

obligation

at the time, with occasionally violent squalls off the

land, which, however, did not prevent a fleet of Lisbon

fishing-boats,

remarkable

from putting out to

sea.

for their large latine sails,

The Penha convent was con-

cealed from our view by a thick cloud, which threw

its

sable mantle over the jagged

line

of the Serra

de Cintra.

" Lisbon was now

only two leagues up the river,
on its right bank; and as we sailed along, the wind
suddenly dropping, we had leisure to enjoy the beautiful

scenery presented by the deep shores, which are

by numerous valleys receding deeply into

the interior, whose sides are softly clothed with orange

intersected

BELEM CASTLE,

LISBON.

and lemon-groves, vineyards, and orchards, and studded

with beautiful quintas, or

summer

residences, of the

wealthy Portuguese, and convents whose dazzling white

appearance contrasted happily with the varied hues of

On

the surrounding groves.

the south shore of the

Tagus, from Cape Traffraria to Almada, there

one

is

continued scene also of towns, detached houses, gardens, and cultivated grounds, in delightful succession.
I

could not help, however, remarking, as

up the

river, the

we advanced

stream of fiery air which came upon

us off the land, like the

'

simoom's awful

blast,'

and

occasioned a forcible anticipation of the ardent heat

which awaited our arrival in this land of the sun.

" The entrance of the
Tagus is extremely dangerous,
to

and

it

requires considerable skill and experience

navigate a vessel with safety across the bar, as the

tide

and currents are very powerful.

There are two

passages through the rocky shoals and sand -banks

which form the bar (called the north and south Cachop),
the former of which is narrower than the other, and is

marked

in nautical charts as the Little Channel, while

that extending

space,
tide
St.

is

more

to the south,

and

termed the Great Channel.

offering a wider

The

state of the

and wind allowed of our passing between Fort

Julian and the north-eastern, or Little Cachop.

Fort Bugio, off the headland of Traffraria, which

once a castle and a light-house,

may

is

at

be considered

BELEM CASTLE,

LISBON.
of land in the river

as the south-westernmost point

Tagus.

"

We now

office is

came

Belem, where an

off the Castle of

kept for the registry of all vessels

and leave the Tagus

custom-house

which enter

as well as an establishment of

and a party of the

the preservation of property, and the

officers,

naval police for

health

officers,

defence of the passage.

" Belem

defended by a battery in

three stories,
is

high-water

we were
British

From

and

front,

nearly surrounded by the river.

visited

at

troops

by the
the

all

police

and health

moment occupying

view up the river

this point the

grand beyond
ficent

nothing more than an ancient tower of

is

conception

and

to

at

Here

officers

the castle.

to the east is

do the magni-

opening of the scenery justice, the most elaborate

description

would be

perfectly inadequate.

The breadth

of the mighty river, crowded with the vessels of every

nation

and

British

and Portuguese men-of-war

in different states of

south crowned with

descending

water

the

down

equipment

at

the heights to the

batteries, villages

and vineyards

their sides to the very skirts of the

numerous pleasure-boats gliding

across the river in various directions

terrupted line

anchor

swiftly

the long unin-

of palaces, convents, houses,

along the shore from

Belem

to Lisbon,

running
under the ele-

vated ridge upon which the splendid residence of the

BELEM CASTLE, LISBON.

the Ajuda,

Portuguese sovereigns,
then the beauteous city

itself,

with

is
its

and

erected;

domes and

towers and gorgeous buildings, extended over its many

of the heaven's
hills
and, above all, the deep blue
;

dazzling canopy above,

form a combination of objects,

the striking interest of which can scarcely be represented to a northern imagination."

Mr. Hobhouse, in a note to Lord Byron's lines

" written after
swimming from Sestos to Abydos," says,
"
My companion had before made a more perilous,
but less celebrated .passage

we were

in Portugal,

Belem Castle

for I recollect that,

when

he swam from Old Lisbon

and having

to

contend with a tide and

counter current, the wind blowing freshly, was but

less

to

than two hours in crossing."

little

LISBON,

FROM FORT ALMADA.

-Drawn by C. Stanfield, A.R.A.from a Sketch by

" What beauties doth Lisboa

Her image

Which

floating

first

unfold

on that noble

Of mighty

A
Who

Page.

tide,

of gold,
poets vainly pave with sands

But now whereon a thousand keels did

And

W.

strength, since Albion

was

to the Lusians did her aid afford

ride

allied,
:

nation swoln with ignorance and pride,

To

lick, yet loathe, the

hand that waves the sword,

save them from the wrath of Gaul's unsparing lord.

" But whoso entereth within

That sheening

for celestial

this

town,

seems to be,

Disconsolate will wander up and

down

'Mid many things unsightly to strange ee

For hut and palace shew like filthily,

The dingy denizens

No

are reared in dirt

personage of high or

Doth care

mean degree

for cleanness of surtout or shirt,

Though shent with Egypt's plague, unkempt, unwashed,

unhurt."

Childe Harold, canto

i.

st.

16, 17.

LISBON.
IT

is difficult

to find a single author

upon Lisbon, without

who has

when he has almost

noticing, that

exhausted his terms of panegyric upon

beautiful

its

and glorious appearance, he brings instantly

situation

into contrast with these, the

and

written

disgust, at the filth

language of utter contempt

and abominations of

this

worse

than painted sepulchre.

" As we entered Lisbon

tion of Cintra,

last year, after the

by the roads leading

in his "

of an Old Soldier," " we had

Life

an opportunity of judging of

vines

of most picturesque

the

finally,

from Vimeira,"

not, until

its

of the

now,

legion

the city

the

thickly planted with

hills,

near Belem

of windmills

itself,

so

appearance from

The country houses and convents on

the Tagus.
side

it

Rough Sketches

says Colonel Leach,

fair

to

conven-

and,

form altogether so enchanting

a picture, that any attempt of mine to do justice must

inevitably

fail

Besides, Lisbon

in toto.

have been often described by

sadly

is

far

more

a stranger disappointed

and

its

able pens.

when he

river

How

lands and

traverses the dirty, rascally streets of this priest-ridden

city,

and wades, hour

after hour,

through one uninter-

rupted accumulation of disgusting

inhabitants appear to glory

and

filth,

rejoice

in

which the

Instead of

being the most disreputable and dirty place in Europe

(or perhaps on the globe),

the very reverse.

it

Above the

might most assuredly be

city is

one of the

finest

LISBON.

aqueducts in the universe, from which almost every

street might, with good management, he constantly

down

washed, and every thing offensive carried

But

the Tagus.

this,

taste.

Portuguese

it

appears,

to

quite foreign to

is

Let them, therefore, vegetate in the

old way, and luxuriate in the effluvia to which they

have ever been accustomed."

In the midst of

however, Lord Byron exhi-

himself in one of his merriest moods

bits

to

all this,

Mr. Hodgson from Lisbon, he

happy
to the

here, because

loves oranges,

monks, who understand

own

and

and

swims

on an

it,

goes into society (with

in the

ass or

Tagus

in writing

"

says,

am

very

and talk bad Latin

as

my

all across at

like their

is

it

pocket

pistols),

once, and

I rides

mule, and swears Portuguese, and have

got a diarrhoea and bites from the musquitos

but what

of that ? comfort must not be expected by folks that go

a-pleasuring."

Of the

which forms the subject of

particular scene

annexed Plate, the best description is found to

accompany Colonel Batty 's view from nearly the same

the

spot, in his

" Select Views of the

Cities of

Europe,"-

Lisbon, from Almada.

"

Opposite to Lisbon stands Almada, on the summit,

and_near the east end, of the high

cliffs,

which extend

along the south bank of the Tagus from thence to the

sea.

From

this elevated situation

we have

a panoramic

LISBON.
of views

series

of incomparable

north the whole expanse of Lisbon

the opposite

To

the Tagus.
tinuing

its

and forming a

hills,

the west, that noble river

is

seen con-

majestic course, and flowing into the Atlantic

and

estuary,

the

seen covering

is

brilliant border to

ocean, between the distant towers of

Bugio

To

grandeur.

St.

Julian and of

to the east the river spreads out into

bounded by a long

the south the heights

of

a vast

To

tract of level country.

Almada

slope

valley covered with vineyards, behind

a gradual ascent of wooded

of several miles, the horizon

hills,
is

down

into a

which there

till,

is

at a distance

bounded by the moun-

tainous ridge of the Serra d'Arabida,

having the re-

markable castle-crowned rock of Palmella towards the

east,

and the distant Moorish

the west.

posed

to

castle of Cezimbra

towards

In the view annexed, the spectator

is

sup-

be looking up the river, in a north-east direc-

Part of Lisbon occupies the left of the scene.

The convent of the Penha de Franca stands on the
tion.

most distant

hill

on the adjoining
da Monte. The

on that
hill,

castle

farther to the
right
St.

is

side.

little

right,

the chapel of Nossa Senhora

is

seen covering the

hill

yet

and the towers of the church of

Vincente, the place of interment of the Portuguese

monarchs, crown the summit of the

tremity of the city.
St.

on the

hill

near the ex-

In the line with the towers of

Vincente, but nearer to the spectator, are the old

LISBON.

brown towers of the cathedral

to the

and

in

its

front, close

Tagus, are the buildings enclosing the Prac,a do

Commercio

these,

with the Alfandega,

or custom-

house, the naval arsenal, and the Caes de Sodre, form

together an imposing range
vessels are spread over the

of edifices.

Numerous

broad bosom of the Tagus

the whole, combined with the bold precipitous height

of

Almada

in

the foreground,

interesting landscape."

form a striking and

CINTRA.
Drawn

" Lo

a Sketch by Capt. Elliot.

by C. Stanfield, A.R.A. from

Eden

Cintra's glorious

In variegated maze of

Ah me

intervenes

mount and

glen.

what hand can pencil guide, or pen,

To follow half on which the eye dilates
mortal ken
Through views more dazzling unto
Than those whereof such things the bard relates,

Who to

the awe-struck world unlock'd Elysium's gates

" The horrid

crags by toppling convent crown'd,

The

cork-trees hoar that clothe the shaggy steep,

The mountain moss by scorching skies imbrown'd,

The sunken glen whose sunless shrubs must weep,
The tender azure of the

unruffled deep,

The orange tints that gild the greenest bough,

The torrents that from cliff to valley leap,

The
Mix'd

vine on high, the willow-branch below,

one mighty scene, with varied beauty glow."

in

Childe Harold, canto

" THE
village of Cintra, about
capital,

in

is

i.

fifteen miles

st.

18, 19.

from the

the most delightful

perhaps, in every respect,

Europe

it

contains beauties of every description,

CINTRA.

On

another are the ruins of a Moorish castle, and a

cistern within

boundaries, kept always full by a

its

spring of the purest water that rises in

elevation the eye stretches over a bare

it.

From

this

and melancholy

country, to Lisbon on the one side, and, on the other,

to the distant

convent of Mafra

the Atlantic bounding

the greater part of the prospect.

cannot, without a

tedious minuteness, describe the ever-varying prospects

that the
the

many eminences

little

of this wild rock present, or

green lanes, over whose bordering lemon-

gardens the evening wind blows so cool and rich."

"
Murphy, who published his Travels in Portugal"
in
that " about
a
1795, says, p. 244,

thirty years ago,

foreign gentleman discovered a

this

What

mountain.

mine of loadstone

suggested the idea of

the herbs that grew immediately over

it,

it

in

were

which were

of a pale colour, and more feeble than the

adjacent
plants of the

same

deep, he found a

species.

fine vein

mass of disjointed rocks and

Having dug about six

but as the mountain

therefore, apprehending the produce

it

to be shut

is

clay, he could not proceed

further without
propping as he excavated.

expense, ordered

feet

up."

Government

would not defray the

Is this fact

capable
of being illustrated
?
researches
by electrico-magnetic
All travellers seem to
agree upon the strikingly
beautiful effect of the first appearance of Cintra.

Kinsey describes

it

Thus

CINTRA.
"

We

which a
road,

at length
little

began

chapel

when Cintra was

expectations, with

its

to

wind round the rock on

situated, to the left

is

above the

at once disclosed to our longing

oak and cork-

forest scenery of

numerous quintas shining amid

the orange and lemon-groves which adorn the declivity
of the Moorish hill, and a lovely valley to the right,
trees, its royal palace,

where nature

is

beheld in her richest and greenest

garb, extending

down

reflected at the

moment

and sunsets can

in

to the sea,

whose golden waves

the rays of the setting sun;

no part of the world be more

nishing and glorious than in Portugal.

is

entirely burnt

up and

fainting

When

asto-

Lisbon

under oppressive heat,

the inhabitants of this favoured spot are enjoying their

mountain-rills and delightfully refreshing verdure, and

an atmosphere more than ten degrees cooler, from its

northern aspect, than at the capital."
Portugal Illustrated, p. 128.

But

all

these accounts are heightened in effect by

being brought into immediate contrast, by authors

who

have just escaped the filth, and heat, and discomfort of

Lisbon and something of the same feeling is imparted
;

to their readers, to

whom

gardens, fresh breezes,

the description of fountains,

and pure

air, is

made

to follow

the disgusting account of those offences which in Lisbon

had passed " betwixt the wind and

their nobility."

MAFRA.
Drawn

a Sketch by C. Landseer.
by D. Roberts, from

" Yet Mafra shall one

Where dwelt

And

moment

claim delay,

of yore the Lusians' luckless queen

church and court did mingle their array,

And mass and

revel

were alternate seen

ill-sorted fry I ween

Lordlings and freres
But here the Babylonian whore hath built

A dome, where flaunts she in such glorious sheen,

That men forget the blood that she hath spilt,
And bow the knee to pomp that loves to varnish guilt."
Childe Harold, canto

" ABOUT ten miles

Lord Byron, in a

to

i.

st.

29.

the right of Cintra," says

letter to his

mother,

Mafra, the boast of Portugal, as

it

"

is

the palace of

might be of any

of magnificence, without elegance.

country, in point
There is a convent annexed the monks, who possess
:

and understand
large revenues, are courteous enough,
Latin so that we had a long conversation. They have
;

a large library,

and asked me

if

the English had any

books in their country."

The palace

of

Mafra

is

one of those numerous ex-

structures raised in consequence

amples of magnificent

MAFRA.
of vows
of those

made during the sufferings or embarrassments

who had the power to perform them John V.
;

monarch of the house of Braganza) having,

during a dangerous illness, vowed to erect, upon his
(the fourth

recovery, a convent for the use of the poorest friary in

the
at

and finding upon inquiry that this was

where
twelve Franciscans lived together in
Mafra,

kingdom

a hut, he redeemed his vow, by erecting there, in 1717,

the present gorgeous palace.

" Mafra

At this place is an amazing structure a

and
convent
founded by the late king, in conpalace
!

vow made by him

sequence of a

to Saint

Anthony

emulating, through vanity and a desire of religious

fame, the ostentation of Philip II., who built the
Escurial.

It

is

a most stupendous

work, but bears

not so noble an appearance as the Escurial,

though
is

much more

decorated, and richer in marble.

vestry, consistory,

church the
fine

marble columns, each of one block.

palace

its

extent

is

The convent

for the Franciscans.

prodigious suites of apartments,

the external square, the convent and

church forming the internal.

the library

The

and rectory, are handsome. In the

and there are many very

altars are costly

was originally intended

" In the
are
as

it

The room intended

for

Here
very spacious and handsome.
centre pride and
and
a
poverty, folly
arrogance;
is

stately palace

with bare walls, a sumptuous convent

MAFRA.
for supercilious priests!"

in

Spain and Portugal,

Kinsey, in his

"

Travels

Major Dalrymple's

p. 135.

Portugal Illustrated,"

p.

452, says,

" The dome and towers of the

palace presented
themselves a long time to our view before we reached
the town, which

we

at length effected

by a steep ascent,

under an almost interminable line of high wall, by

which the royal park (the Tapada de Mafra) attached
to the building, is surrounded.

" The extent of this noble structure

it

is

prodigious

contains at once a palace, a convent, and a church of

imposing magnitude

and

Escurial of Portugal.

north of Lisbon, and

solitary country within

it

Mafra
is

proudly termed the

is
is

about twenty miles

surrounded by a bleak and

view of the

sea.

It

was con-

sidered a place of great strength in the time of the

Moors,

who

built a fortress here, of which, however,

vestiges are discoverable at the present day.

On

no

this

John V., who surrendered himself to a corrupt

nobility, an intriguing and artful priesthood, and
spot,

women

of bad character, not contented with the vain

display of having elevated the church of Lisbon into a

patriarchate, to vie with that of St. Peter's at
his troops in the erection of

employed
was to eclipse, by

its

an

Rome,

edifice that

splendour and magnificence, the

Escurial.
glories of the Spanish

confided to a foreign architect

The
its

construction

was

embellishments were

MAFRA.
fieent

grandeur of

its

lengthened facade, in Mr. D.

Roberts' beautiful drawing.

given by the fine

effect

This vastness

it

admirably

of throwing a mass of shadow

across the middle of the building, as

only obscure a part of

is

at the

if

a cloud could

same moment.

J'runti

~by

F Sta

Iff

A SB

wlio ahall
'

had

VOTI

marvel When \ou tear her uae.

known

hear

in fcer

softer lior!*

MAID OF SARAGOZA.
Drawn

"

Is

for this the

it

Hangs

by F. Stone, from a Sketch.

Spanish maid, aroused,

on the willow her unstrung guitar,

unsex'd, the anlace hath espoused,

And,

all

Sung

the loud song, and dared the deed of

And

she,

whom

war

once the semblance of a scar

with dread,
Appall'd, an owlet's larum chill'd

Now
The

views the column-scattering bay'net jar,

falchion flash,

and

o'er the yet

warm dead

Stalks with Minerva's step where Mars might quake to tread.

shall marvel when you hear her tale,
had you known her in her softer hour,
Mark'd her black eye that mocks her coal-black

Ye who

Oh

Heard her

veil,

light, lively tones in lady's bower,

Seen her long locks that foil the painter's power,

Her fairy form, with more than female grace,
Scarce would you deem that Saragoza's tower

Beheld her smile

in

Danger's Gorgon face,

Thin the closed ranks, and lead in Glory's fearful chase.

Her

lover sinks

Her

chief

Her

fellows flee

The

foe retires

is

slain

she sheds no ill-timed tear

she

fills

his fatal post

she checks their base career

she heads the sallying host

MAID OF SARAGOZA.

Who
Who

can appease

like her a lover's ghost

can avenge so well a leader's

What maid

Who

retrieve

when man's

fall ?

flushed hope

hang
by a woman's hand, before a batter'd wall ?"

Foil'd

Childe Harold, canto

"

lost ?

is

so fiercely on the flying Gaul,

i.

st.

54, 5, 6.

" were the

Such," says Lord Byron, in a note,

exploits of the

Maid

of Saragoza,

who by her

elevated herself to the highest rank of heroines.

the

valour

When

author was at Seville, she walked daily on the

Prado, decorated with medals and orders, by

of the

The

Junta."

edition of

editor

command

of Murray's

Lord Byron's Works, adds

complete
" The
exploits of

Augustina, the famous heroine of both the sieges of

Saragoza, are recorded at length in one of the most
splendid chapters of Sou they 's
sular War.'

'

History of the Penin-

At the time when she

first

attracted notice,

by mounting a battery where her lover had fallen, and

working a gun in

his room, she

was

in her twenty-

second year, exceedingly pretty, and in a

style of beauty.

soft

feminine

She has further had the honour

to

be

painted by Wilkie, and alluded to in Wordsworth's

Dissertation on the Convention (misnamed) of Cintra,'
'

where a noble passage concludes in these words

'

Saragoza has exemplified a melancholy, yea, a dismal

truth,

yet consolatory and

full

of joy,

that

when a

people are called suddenly to fight for their liberty, and

MAID OF SARAGOZA.
are sorely pressed upon, their best field of battle

is

the

the
upon which their children have played
chambers where the family of each man has slept
floors

upon or under the

tered

in the

roofs

gardens of their recreation

or in the market-place

and among

ples,

by which they have been shel-

in the street,

before the altars of their tem-

their congregated dwellings, blazing

or uprooted.'"

Southey,

most interesting account of the

his

in

memorable Siege of Saragoza, says of this heroine,

"
Augustina Saragoza, a handsome woman of the lower
class,

about twenty-two years of age, arrived at this bat-

tery with refreshments at a time

defended

it

was

left alive,

when not a man who

tremendous was the

so

,fire

which the French kept up against it. For a moment,

the citizens hesitated to re-man the guns;
Augustina
sprang forward over the dead and dying, snatched a

match from the hand of a dead artilleryman, and

off

a six-and-twenty pounder

gun,

made

the siege.

fresh courage all

to quit

it

alive during

sight could not but animate with

who

into the battery,

then jumping upon the

vow never

a solemn

Such a

fired

it.

The Saragozans rushed

and renewed

their fire with greater

beheld

vigour than ever, and the French were repulsed here,

and

at all other points, with great slaughter."

" The

women were

eminently conspicuous in their

exertions, regardless of the shot

and

shells

which

fell

MAID OF SARAGOZA.
about them, and braving the flames of the building

women
into
to

of

all

ranks assisted

some

companies

they formed themselves

to relieve

the

wounded

some

wine, and provisions, to those

carry water,

defended the gates.

When

who

circumstances force them

out of the sphere of their ordinary nature, and compel

them

manly virtues, they display them in

and when they are once awakened
the highest degree
to exercise

to

a sense of patriotism, they carry

its

principle to

most heroic pitch."

" The noble

defence," says Mr. Locker,

against the French

in 1808, renders

an interval of

it

its

" of this
city

army under Lefebvre Desnouettes,

an object of universal interest;

five years,

we found

it still

after

in ruins, the

inhabitants being too poor to restore even their private

'

dwellings.

Saragoza (Csesarea Augusta), once a

station, is the capital of the

Roman

kingdom of Arragon.

It

stands in an extensive plain, fruitful in olive-yards and

vineyards.

which
it

We crossed the

falls in

Gallego, a tributary stream

below the town, and soon

The wreck of the public

by the bridge of the Ebro.

buildings, destroyed during the

in our

minds with the heroic

after entered

bombardment, associated

exploits of the inhabitants,

compelled us to pause at every step to observe the

ravages of the shot and shells; and this interest increased on reaching the principal street, El Cozo

every door and

window which remained bore

the

marks

MAID OF SARAGOZA.
of bullets

ders

hand

for here the

to

hand

Saragozans fought their inva-

while the French took possession

of one side, the citizens maintained the other, disputing

every inch of ground between them.

The walls which

separated the houses were pulled down, and this long

street

was thus converted

two immense

into

forts.

Loop-holes were opened for musketry, embrasures were

broken through the front walls, and cannon brought

up from within, which spread destruction from side to

side.
Every expedient practised in more regular sieges
was

tried in succession

mines and counter-mines were

carried below the pavement,

and exploded underneath

the opposite houses. The dead lay in heaps between the
combatants, threatening a pestilence more terrible than
nay, every
Every church and convent
of
became
a
defence,
building capable
military position.
Priests were seen defending their altars, and pouring out
the sword.

Among the most con-

their blood at the foot of the cross.

spicuous of these was Padre Santiago Sass,

the

Females rivalled the

lead in every hazardous enterprise.

most undaunted of their

who took

fellow-citizens.

The

Portilla

was saved by the gallantry of Augustina Saragoza, a

fine young woman, who, when none else survived in
the battery, snatched a match from the hands of a dead
artilleryman, and renewed the fire on the besiegers."

The convent of Sta Engracia

the gates of Saragoza, to which

gives
it

name

to

one of

stands contiguous.

MAID OF SARAGOZA.
the 3rd of August the French opened a tremendous
fire on Sta Engracia, which soon burst into flames.

On

Seizing the advantage,

they pushed

columns, which, after a most desperate

on

two strong
gained

conflict,

of Sta Engracia, from whence

possession of the quarter
the inhabitants to surthey immediately summoned

The proposal and

render.
laconic

the

reply were

equally

"
Proposal

Quartel General, Sta Engracia.

" La
capitulacion."

Answer"

Quartel General, Saragoza.

" Guerra

The answer

is

"

al cuchillo.

" PALAFOX."

rendered by Lord Byron,

War

even to the knife ;"

an energetic expression of determination, which will

the city
longer endure in the poetry of Lord Byron than

and

site

of the event be

known among men.

Such was the success of these

tions, that the

enemy were driven

the citizens gradually regained

their

town

and Lefebvre, having

enthusiastic

into a

the

narrow

exer-

circuit ;

greater part of

set fire to the quarter

of Sta Engracia on the night of the 13th of August,

withdrew his troops from the contest, leaving the

defenders to enjoy the triumph of their patriotism.

CADIZ.
Drawn

"

Adieu,

Cadiz

fair

Who may
When

all

forget

yea, a long adieu

how

well thy walls have stood

free,

and

last to

be subdued.

And if amidst a scene, a shock so rude,

Some native blood was seen thy streets to

A traitor only fell

Here

all

beneath the feud

die,

were noble save nobility

None hugg'd a

conquerer's chain save fallen chivalry

Childe Harold, canto

WITH
the

first

"
:

its

St.

85.

Cadiz, sweet Cadiz

loveliness

delightful

ever beheld, very different from our English

every respect except cleanliness (and

London), but

still

beautiful,

and

full

The beauty of its

spot in the creation.

and mansions is only excelled by the

" Cadiz is the most
inhabitants."

streets

of

i.

!"

Cadiz Lord Byron expressed his satisfaction

in terms of unqualified praise

it is

were changing, thou alone wert true,

be

First to

by Lieut. -Col. Batty.

it

is

town

cities in

as clean as

of the finest

women

CADIZ.
in Spain, the

Cadiz belles being the Lancashire witches

of their land."

In

ages the females of Cadiz have been famous

all

and beauty. Under the Roman

fame knew no other limits than those

for their singular grace

domination their

of the empire, throughout which they were noted for

and

their elegance, their

gaiety,

powers of fasci"
nation and, if we may believe the
Childe's" report
above, the race has by no means degenerated in these
their

days of the basquina and mantilla.

" Cadiz
which

is

situated at the extremity of a peninsula

stretches out into the ocean north-westward

the island of Leon.

South of

ocean,

stretching

straits,

while on the north

away

this

towards
is

peninsula
the

is

from

the open

Mediterranean

a deep bay formed by

the peninsula itself and the

Spanish coast, running in
the direction of
Saint Vincent.
The

Cape
which

furnishes a harbour

open bay

is

not always secure, for the

north-west winds sometimes bring in a

heavy and dan-

gerous sea
situate, is

but the inner port, where the

navy-yard

at all times safe

and commodious.

is

This ad-

mirable station for the pursuits of commerce attracted

the attention of the earliest
navigators.

So long ago as

eight centuries before the Christian era, the Phoenicians,

having founded Carthage and pushed their dominions

beyond the

pillars

of Hercules even to Britain, were

induced to establish several colonies on the coast of

CADIZ.
Spain, where the abundance of silver and gold attracted

them, even more than the

Of

amenity of the climate.

of the soil and the

fertility

these colonies

Gades was

the principal."

" Cadiz

Roman

also contained

inscriptions

Phoenician, Greek, and

many

and other

Among them

antiquities.

was an odd epitaph, found upon the tomb of some manhating cynic, who thought he had fled to the end of the
earth.

It ran,

ordered

me

'

Heliodorus, a Carthaginian

at this farthest extremity of the globe, that

whether any one more

mad

as far as this place to see

favourite Essex, with

him

'

All these memorials

when

haughty Philip and

by

Howard,

spirits of the

Sir Corniers Clifford, Sir

fleet,

day

of the fleet was not

it

known

Armada.

accompanied
Lord Thomas

George Carew, Sir

The

until after

it

destination

put to sea, and

arrived off Cadiz without any intimation.

when he had

prevailed upon

make

the attack,

of his

life,

thou-

avenge the

his Invincible

Francis Vere, and Sir Walter Raleigh.

thus

fifteen

soldiers, to

Lord Effingham commanded the

the gallant

Elizabeth sent her

two hundred ships and

sand men, including seamen and

all

he might see

than himself would come

of the past vanished in 1597,

insults of the

madman,

by his will to be put into this sarcophagus,

Essex,

the cautious admiral to

was informed that the queen,

careful

had ordered that he should keep himself in

He promised to do so but no
fleet.

the centre of the

CADIZ.
sooner did he see Sir Walter Raleigh leading boldly
into the inner harbour,
batteries

on either

board, he gave

under a dreadful

throwing his hat over-

side, than,

way

to his impatience,

once forward into the thickest of the

harbour was

full

from the

fire

and pressed at
The inner

fire.

of ships newly arrived, and laden with

These

bullion and the precious commodities of America.

were run on shore by the Spanish admiral, the Duke of

Medina and when he saw that the headlong valour of
;

the English

them

was about

to be fired.

to prove successful,

Leaving

he caused

this scene of conflagration,

Essex got possession of Puntalis, and, no longer ruled

by any will but his own, marched with his soldiers along
the narrow causeway which leads from Leon to Cadiz,

and, regardless of the batteries that swept his ranks,

stormed the

city

sword in hand.

and many of the English

as usual, from house to house,

were

slain

of the Spaniards

four thousand, but none

sistance ceased, the

many more,

in cold blood.

hall, the principal inhabitants

priests

not less than

When

town was given over

and the generals having taken

The

The Spaniards fought

to

the re-

plunder,

their stations in the

came

town-

to kiss their feet.

and nuns were dismissed unconditionally

but the rest of the population were compelled to give

ransom. This
hostages for the payment of a stipulated
done, the treasure was embarked, the inhabitants were

driven from their homes, and the city was delivered to

CADIZ.

Thus perished Cadiz, and with her the

of Alexander, and every trace of her pristine

the flames.
statue

greatness.*

"

the later glories and

Upon

of Cadiz

it

is

unnecessary to enlarge.

prosperity of the city

when

port,

still

this

later misfortunes

The commercial

the thousand masts that

filled its

was the only corner of the peninsula

untrod by the foot of the usurper

the fearless procla-

mation of the constitution of the year 1812 by the

Spanish Cortes under the very

fire

of Matagorda

the

same island of Leon by Riego

and Quiroga, and the very troops who were about

later revolution in the

to

depart to replace the cast-off fetters of the free

Americans

and, finally, the gloomy

drama of 1 823,

are all things of yesterday, in the recollection of every

one."
" The
plunder is said to have amounted to eight millions of
The loss by the
ducats, and six millions perished with the fleet.
*

misery consequent upon it, is of

Hume, Mariana, James's History of the Straits,

universal conflagration, like the

course inestimable.

&c."

See

CAGLIARI,
SARDINIA.
Drawn

"

My

next stage

by

W.

A.R.A.

Westall,

Cagliari, in Sardinia,

is

presented to his majesty.

where

as a court dress, indispensable in travelling."

Byron,

AT

vol.

i.

shall

be

have a most superb uniform

Life of

p. 284. Letter dated Gibraltar, Aug. 1809.

that time the Court existed only at Cagliari, the

of the island of Sardinia

capital

the sole territory

which the dominion of the King of Sardinia was

then reduced.
Napoleon had driven him from his
to

possessions on the continent,

and converted Savoy and

Piedmont

into numerous departments

among these
were Leman, Mont Blanc, Marengo, the Stura, the
and Turin had shrunk
Sesia, the Doire, and the Po
;

into the insignificance of

being only the chief place of

the latter.

France

These departments were incorporated with

and the

subjects of his Majesty of Sardinia

had been reduced from nearly

hundred thousand
" Our
to

five

millions, to five

passage

of Lord Byron," "

" Life
Sardinia," says Gait, in his

was tardy, owing

s

to

calms

but, in

CAGLIARI.

About the third day, Byron

relented from his rapt mood, as if he felt it was out of
place, and became playful, and disposed to contribute
other respects, pleasant.

his fair proportion to the general endeavour to while

away the

tediousness of the dull voyage.

expedients for that purpose,

at bottles.

we had

Byron supplied the

Among

other

recourse to shooting

pistols,

and was the

best shot, but not very pre-eminently so.

In the calms,

the jolly-boat was several times lowered

and on one of

those occasions, his lordship, with the captain,

caught

a turtle

rather think two;

we

shark, part of

which was dressed

tasted, without

relish.

likewise hooked a
for breakfast,

and

" As we
approached the Gulf of Cagliari, in Sardinia,
a strong north wind came from the shore, and we had a
whole day of disagreeable tacking but next
morning
it was
Sunday we found ourselves at anchor near the
;

Mole, where

we

landed.

Byron, with the captain, rode

out some distance into the country, while

with Mr. Hobhouse about the town

our cards

for the consul,

and Mr.

invited us to dinner.

Byron and

aides-de-camp

appeared

his

left

we landed

and on

who

again,

this occa-

companion dressed themselves as

a circumstance which, at the

time,

less exceptionable in the

the commoner.

we

ambassador,

In the evening

to avail ourselves of the invitation

sion,

Hill, the

walked

young peer than

in

CAGLIARI.

"

Had we

parted at Cagliari,

should have retained a

it is

much more

probable that I

favourable recollec-

Mr. Hobhouse than of Lord Byron, for he was a

cheerful companion, full of odd and droll stories, which
tion of

he told extremely well; he was also good-humoured

and

intelligent

altogether an advantageous specimen

of a well-educated English gentleman.

was

Moreover,

at the time afflicted with a nervous dejection,

which

the occasional exhilaration produced by his anecdotes

and college tales often materially dissipated though, for

the most part, they were more after the manner and the
;

matter of Swift than Addison.

"

I shall

pleasure

for

always remember Cagliari with particular

it

so

happened that

formed there three

of the most agreeable acquaintances of

of

them was with Lord Byron

been eight days together,

for

my

life,

and one

although we had

could not previously have

accounted myself acquainted with his lordship."

ETNA.
Drawn

" The

mantles unseen in

At length

No

Purser.

the cavern of Etna conceal'd,

fire in

Still

W.

by

volume

in a

torrent can

secret recess

its

quench

it,

no bounds can repress."

Hours of Idleness,

LORD BYRON,
from the Salsette

in a letter to
frigate,

terrific reveal'd,

May

3,

vol.

i.

12mo.

p. 153.

Mr. H. Drury, dated

" I have
1810, says,

crossed Portugal, traversed the south of Spain, visited

Sardinia, Sicily, Malta, and thence passed into Turkey:"

but

it

does not appear that he landed in Sicily, or saw-

Etna except from

sea.

In a letter to Moore, dated

" and
Venice, April 11, 1817, he says,
by Etna

;"

and,

Harold," stanza 74

"

have passed
" Childe

again, in the 4th canto of

I've looked

on Ida with a Trojan's eye

Athos, Olympus, Etna."

If

he saw

way to Malta,

it

from

sea,

it

could not have been on his

as the following statement

from Mr. Gait

ETNA.
will

shew

and though Medwin makes him

say,

" But

Paestum cannot surpass the ruins of Agrigentum, which

saw by moonlight," Gait, who was his companion

from Gibraltar to Malta, says, in his " Life of Byron,"
"
Having landed the mail at Girgenti, we stretched
No mention is made of their landing
over to Malta."
I

any of the passengers there.

gone on shore, and ascended

of ancient Agrigentum,

If,

however, they had

to the site of the fortress

which overlooks a vast extent

of country, this splendid object might have been seen.

" It was from this

eminence," says Russell, in his
" Tour
" that we first beheld the
through Sicily,"
burning Etna, although upwards of ninety miles
tant,

dis-

whose Alpine summit, white with eternal snow,

above

distinctly appeared, not only

all

the intermediate

mountains, but also above the very clouds."

The Editor has been obliged by a note from Mr.

"
Gait, in which he says,

we landed
Malta,

do not recollect that

the mail at Girgenti, and bore

we saw Mount Etna

the day was hazy

right,

we saw

it

but,

if

my

after

away

for

rather think not, as

recollection serves

soon before or after

we made

me
the

Lord Byron, before his return to

England, had never been in Sicily I believe he alludes

jEgadian islands.

view of Etna seen in going from Malta

to the dominions of Ali Pacha
in that part of his
chiefly to the

voyage he would have a

much

better view

of the

ETNA.
mountain than in any other
besides, Agrigentum
stands very high, and he was never on shore there.
;

In the voyage alluded

Etna

so that I have
it

was

no doubt,

lordship took the trouble,

if his

power many times

in his

the sea.

he might not be further from

have seen Etna from Malta

to,

than thirty miles.

have seen Etna from

you, perhaps, to hear, that

It will surprise

do not think he had

to

much

taste for the picturesque,

though a very lively feeling on interesting scenes, especially

where the

were exciting it was more

which he delighted."

associations

associations than sights in

in

Holland,

his

"

rises

from

its

base,

on these

a majesty and singleness of form and

shores, with

which render

tains of the world.

advanced,

mentions Etna as

Travels,"

" that vast

volcano, which

outline

it

almost unique

accomplished

all

the

moun-

Though the year was now

was fortunate

among

in

my

far

ascent of Etna, and

could desire in the survey of

its

wonders of landscape, and of those volcanic phenomena

which bear with them the record of nearly thirty centuries, and of no fewer than sixty eruptions."

The remarkable form of Etna

makes

it

not only an object of grandeur and sub-

limity from whatever point

view from

it,

a volcanic cone

it is

seen, but the

extending to a vast distance,

panoramic

bounded

in

great part by the sea, and including nearly the whole

island of Sicily,

makes

the attainment of

its

summit,

ETNA.

which

upwards of 11,000 English feet above the sea,

whose waves break upon its base, an object of ambition
is

The

to all travellers in Sicily.

success or failure of this

adventurous excursion occupies a part of their journals

and where they have succeeded, few scenes are more

vivid and inspiring than that which a sunrise, seen
from the summit of Etna, produces.
The Rev. T. S. Hughes, in his " Travels in

and Greece,"
" Anxious

expectation

which we waited

we

felt

Sicily

116, gives the following account:

p.

more than doubled the time

for the

appearance of the sun

none of those unpleasant sensations

culty of respiration

which are

have complained.

At

this

amazing

seems more affected than the body

from the

many travellers

altitude the

mind

the spirit appears

elevated by the change, and dismissing those cares

passions

which disturb

its

but

in a diffi-

said to arise

tenuity of the atmosphere, and of which

in

serenity below, rises

and

from the

contemplation of this sublime scenery to the adoration

of

its

divine Architect.

" At
length

faint streaks of light shooting

athwart

the horizon, which became brighter and brighter, an-

nounced the approach of the great luminary of day ;

and when he sprang up in splendid majesty, supported
as it were on a throne of golden clouds, that fine Scriptural

image of the giant rejoicing to run his course,

my mind. As he ascended in the sky,

flashed across

ETNA.
his rays glittered

on the mountain-tops, and

came gradually

visible,

our eyes.

effect is

This

expanded
map beneath
most extraordinary nearly all
;

the mountains of the island

that

surmount

their

Sicily be-

like a

be descried, with

may

summits

more than half the

cities

coast,

bays and indentations, and the promontories of

Pelorus and Pachynum, may be traced, as well as the

with

its

course of rivers from their springs to the sea, sparkling

like silver
plains.
I

bands which encircle the valleys and the

We

do not on

were unable
this

to distinguish

who

profess to have done so.

very

much approximated

power of the atmosphere

The sides of Etna

to

their

conical hills, from

The Lipari

isles

were

view by the refracting

was the Calabrian

as also

coast.
tiful

Malta, though

account doubt the relation of others

itself

are covered with beau-

which ancient lavas have issued ;

exhausted craters are

now

filled

with verdant

groves of the spreading chestnut, exhibiting the most

sylvan scenes imaginable.

On

cones would be lofty mountains

the plain below, these

;

here they appear but

excrescences that serve to vary and to beautify the

ground.

"

must not

forget to

mention one extraordinary

for which I have

phenomenon which we observed, and

searched in vain for a satisfactory solution.

extremity of the vast

shadow which Etna

across the island, appeared a perfect

and

At the
projects

distinct

image

ETNA.
of the mountain

diminished as

what the

or

image,
its

if

elevated above the horizon, and

itself,

Where

viewed in a concave mirror.

reflector could

cannot conceive

he which exhibited

we

this

could not be mistaken in

appearance, for all our party observed

and we

it,

had been prepared for it beforehand by our Catanian

friends.
It remained visible about ten minutes, and
disappeared as the shadow decreased.*
cold,

which was extreme, we

upon the summit of Etna,

In spite of the

staid at least

to

view from

watch-tower the splendours of creation.

an hour
this

lofty

Perhaps at

no point in the globe do they appear to so great an

advantage, for the view is uninterrupted by a single
Unlike other hills of great altitude, which
obstacle.
are generally surrounded by their aspiring subjects,
this

king of mountains

rises alone

from the Catanian

plain in solitary state, without a rival to dispute his

pre-eminence.

Before

we

left

the crater

we descended

into the interior as far as to the first shelving ridge

Hitherto the ground was solid

and the descent gradual, but we could

before mentioned.

under our

feet

advance no further, as the sides of the second stage

were loose and crumbling.

tion of terror
*

and delight

in

There was a mixed sensa-

roaming about

this fearful

" Mr. Jones observed the same

phenomenon, as well

other friends

England."

with

whom

I have conversed

upon

the

as

some

subject in

ETNA.
solitude, so completely cut off

and from

all

from the world below,

communication with the human

race.

Observing a large fragment of rock, apparently half a

ton in weight, lying near the edge, where some old
eruption had projected
of

it,

we

succeeded, by the exertion

our strength and the assistance of the guide, to

all

back again down the crater. The tremendous

noise which ensued from the immense lapse of matter

roll it

which

mass carried down, probably amounting

this

many thousand
and

fearful

tons,

lest

alarmed us

to

for the consequences

Enceladus in his displeasure might

return the compliment,

we made

a hasty retreat.

descent

down

Inglese

we remounted our mules.*

Our

the cone was very rapid, and at the Casa

The

ride to-day

* " The whole ascent

up Mount Etna is computed at about thirty
With regard to its height above the level of the sea, the folmiles.
lowing are amongst the calculations that have been

De

Saussure

Sir G.

made

10,963

Shuckburg

feet,

10,954.

It is supcircuit of its base is considered 180 miles.

Buffon
but
others
mountain
a
;
maintain,
by
posed
primitive
with great probability, that it is only a vast accumulation of volcanic
The earliest writers who make mention of it as a volcano
matter.

The extreme
to be

are Pindar

and ^Eschylus;

eruption was
effects

Homer

of an eruption of this mountain

by

it

by

the rise of the water in the straits."

salt,

felt,

Arethusa in Syracuse has been changed

and the city of Messina suffered an inundation

Sicilian historians, the fountain

from fresh to

The first recorded

To such an extent are the
that, if we may believe the

does not.

in the time of Pythagoras.

ETNA.
gratified us

more than

that of yesterday

for the air

being quite transparent, the most charming prospects

imaginable opened themselves to view through the

deep glens and magnificent vistas of the woody region,

comprehending mountains crested with cities
villages

embosomed

in rich foliage

vineyards pregnant with

projecting capes and promontories

the purple grape

with the glorious expanse of the dark-blue sea beyond.

Viewing

this resplendent picture,

one might be

tempted almost to arraign the partiality of Providence

in lavishing" all his

bounty on a particular

district,

did

not a recurrence of the tremendous lava-course testify

an awful intermixture of evil, and vindicate

his dispen-

sations."

The cause of

the appearance of the

above the horizon at sunrise

is

shadow of Etna

very obvious.

The

atmosphere, even to the west, would be illuminated by

the rising sun, except where the mountain intercepted

which would present the appearance of the

mountain form, in its shadow, on the unilluminated

his rays,

part of the horizon and atmosphere.

MALTA.
Drawn

" But not

The

Turner, R.A.

tenants of the middle deep

for the

Though

in silence pass Calypso's isles,*

sister

There

by J. AT.

weary

still

a haven smiles,

the fair goddess long hath ceased to weep,

And

o'er her cliffs a fruitless watch to keep

For him who dared prefer a mortal bride :

Here, too, his boy essay'd the dreadful leap

Stern Mentor urged from high to yonder tide

While thus of both bereft, the nymph-queen doubly sighed.

" Her
reign

But

is

past, her gentle glories

trust not this

mortal sovereign holds her dangerous throne,

And

thou may'st find a new Calypso there.

Sweet Florence

could another ever share

This wayward, loveless heart,

But check'd by

To

gone

too easy youth, beware

every tie, I

it

may

would be

thine

not dare

cast a worthless offering at thy shrine,

Nor ask

so dear a breast to feel one

pang

for mine.

the island of
(Malta and Goza). Goza is said to have been
" The
in
identity of the habitation," says Sir R. C. Hoare,
"
"
to
the
his
Classical Tour,"
nymph Calypso,
assigned by poets
has occasioned much discussion and variety of opinion. Someplace

Calypso.

it

at Malta,

and some

at

Goza."

MALTA.
" Thus
Harold deem'd, as on that lady's eye

He

look'd,

and met

its

beam without

a thought,

Save Admiration glancing harmless by

Love kept aloof, albeit not far remote,

Who knew

his

But knew him

And

votary often lost and caught,

as his worshipper

ne'er again the

Since

now he

boy

his

little

god

no more,

bosom sought

vainly urged him

Well deem'd the

sway was

his ancient

Childe Harold, canto

IT

to adore,

ii.

o'er."
st.

29, &c.

remarkable, that though Lord Byron visited

is

Malta on

his

way

and spent three weeks

to Greece,

the island, he never alludes to

and only leaves us to infer,

Malta is one of " Calypso's
note, Goza, one of the group.

in

by name in his poems,

it

in the above stanza, that

by naming in the
is the more remark-

isles,"

It

able, since it was during this stay at Malta that he

formed the acquaintance with Mrs. Spencer Smith, the
" Fair Florence" of his " Childe
Harold." Struck with

her romantic history, and charmed and interested

by
her manners, and even her
she
became
one
eccentricity,
of those beings which were mixed
his

life

produced

and thoughts; and

many

beautiful

admiration and regard

his

up with the poetry of

remembrance of her

stanzas

expressive

of his

the following, which were ad-

dressed to her, were written at Malta.

MALTA.

TO FLORENCE.
Lady when I left the shore,
The distant shore which gave me
!

birth,

hardly thought to grieve once more,

To
Yet

quit another spot

on earth

here, amidst this barren isle,

Where panting Nature droops

Where only thou

I

view

Though

my

far

the head,

art seen to smile,

parting hour with dread.

from Albin's craggy shore,

Divided by the dark-blue main

few, brief, rolling seasons o'er,

Perchance

But wheresoe'er

view her
I

cliffs

again.

now may roam,

Through scorching clime and varied

Though Time restore me to my home,
I

On

ne'er shall

thee, in

sea,

bend mine eyes on thee

whom

at once conspire

All charms which heedless hearts can move,

Whom

but to see

is

to admire,

And, oh! forgive the word

Forgive the word in one

who

ne'er

With such a word can more

And

to love.

offend

since thy heart I cannot share,

Believe me, what

am, thy

friend.

MALTA.
And who

so cold as look on thee,

Thou

The

Ah

lovely wand'rer, and be less

be, what man should ever be,

Nor

friend of

who would

Beauty

in distress ?

think that form had past

Through Danger's most destructive path,

Had braved the

And 'scaped
Lady

when

Where

And

death-wing'd tempest's blast,

a tyrant's fiercer wrath

view the walls

shall

free

Byzantium once arose

Stamboul's Oriental halls

tyrants

now

enclose

mightiest in the

lists

of fame,

The Turkish

Though

That glorious

On me
As

city

still

spot of thy nativity

When

be

hold a dearer claim,

'twill

And though

shall

bid thee

now

farewell,

behold that wond'rous scene,

Since where thou art

'Twill soothe to

not dwell,

may

be where thou hast been.

September 1809."

He

also apostrophises the

" Chill and mirk

beginning
lished in vol.

vii. p.

same lady
is

in the stanzas

the nightly blast," pub-

31 1 of his Life and

Works

they

were written during the thunder-storm which he encountered at Zitza, in the mountains of Pindus; and
in a letter to his

mother he says:

" This

letter

is

MALTA.
committed

to the

charge of a very extraordinary lady,

whom

S
you have doubtless heard of, Mrs. S
of whose escape the Marquess de Salvo published a
She has since been shipnarrative a few years ago.
,

wrecked

and her

has been from

life

its

commencement

so fertile in

remarkable incidents, that in a romance

they would

appear

improbable.

She was born

at

Constantinople, where her father, Baron Herbert, was

Austrian ambassador

married unhappily, yet has never

been impeached in point of character

excited the ven-

geance of Buonaparte, by taking a part in some conspiracy

five

several times risked her

and twenty.

to join her

She

is

life

here on her

husband, being obliged

where she was paying a

visit

and

way
to

is

to

not yet

England

leave Trieste,

to her mother,

by the

approach of the French, and embarks soon in a ship

Since my arrival here I have had scarcely any
of war.
other companion.

have found her very pretty, very

Buonaparte is
accomplished, and extremely eccentric.
even now so incensed against her, that her life would
be in danger

if

she were taken prisoner a second time."

Mr. Gait, who had become the companion of Lord

Byron and Mr. Hobhouse from Gibraltar to Malta,
thus mentions their residence at Malta, in his " Life of

Lord Byron."
"
Having landed the mail at Girgenti, we stretched
over to Malta, where we arrived about noon next day
;

MALTA.
all

the passengers, except the two friends,

being eager

went on shore with the captain. They refor a reason which an accidental ex-

to land,

mained behind

Byron let out, much to my secret amusement for I was aware they would be disappointed,
and the anticipation WHS relishing.
They expected
pression of
;

at least

he did

a salute from the batteries, and sent

ashore notice to Sir Alexander Ball, the

governor, of
his arrival

but the guns were sulky, and evinced no

respect of persons

so that late in the afternoon, about

the heel of the

evening, the two magnates were obliged
to

come on

shore,

and

slip into

unknown.
" At this time Malta
was

commerce was
its

profits

flourishing,

hung

ripe

the city unnoticed and

in great
prosperity, the

and the goodly

and rich

at

clusters of

The

every door.

merchants were truly hospitable, and few more so than

Mr. Chabot.

As

had

letters to

him, he invited

me

to

dinner, along with several other friends previously en-

gaged.

In the cool of the evening, as

at our wine,

nounced.

we were

sitting

Lord Byron and Mr. Hobhouse were an-

His lordship was in better

ever seen him.

spirits

than

had

His appearance shewed, as he entered

had met with some adventure, and

he chuckled with an inward sense of
enjoyment, not

the room, that

they

altogether without spleen

faction, as his

a kind of malicious satis-

companion recounted, with

all

becoming:

MALTA.
woes and

gravity, their

sufferings, as

begging a bed and morsel

me

but

an apology

God

for the night.

for

forgive

partook of Byron's levity at the idea of per-

sonages so consequential wandering destitute in the

seeking for lodgings from door to door, and

streets

rejected at

all.

" Next
day, however, they were accommodated by
the governor with an agreeable house in the upper part
of Valletta

and

his lordship,

as soon as they

domiciled, began to take lessons in Arabic from a

were

monk

one of the librarians of the public library.

I believe

His whole time was not, however, devoted to study;

formed an acquaintance with Mrs. Spencer Smith,

the lady of the gentleman of that name who had been

for he

He

our resident minister at Constantinople.

passion for her
ever, beguiled

She

is

but

him

it

was only

affected a

She, how-

Platonic.

of his valuable yellow

diamond

ring.*

the Florence of Childe Harold, and merited the

poetical

embalmment, or rather the amber immortalisa-

tion she possesses there, being herself a heroine.

There

was no exaggeration in saying, that many incidents of

her life would appear improbable in fiction. Her adventures with the Marquis de Salvo form one of the
prettiest

romances in the Italian language

*
vol.

i.

Alluding
p. 284,

to

every thing

was touched with adventure

in her destiny

an adventure

12mo

edit.

at Seville.

nor was

Vide Life of Lord Byron,

MALTA.
it

the least of her claims to sympathy, that she

had

incurred the special enmity of Napoleon.

" After
remaining about three weeks at Malta,
Byron embarked with his friend in a brig of war, appointed to convoy a
Prevesa.

merchantmen

of small

fleet

to

had, about a fortnight before, passed over

with a packet on her return from Messina to Girgenti,

and did not

spring,

fall in

with them again

when we met

till

the following

mean

In the

at Athens.

time,

besides his Platonic dalliance with Mrs. Spencer Smith,

Byron had involved himself in a quarrel with an officer ;

but it was satisfactorily settled. His residence at Malta
did not greatly interest him.
valrous masters

made no

none that appears

less

The

story of

old chi-

its

impression on his imagination

in his

works; but

it

is

not the

probable that the remembrance of the place

occupied a deep niche in his bosom

for I

itself

have re-

marked, that he had a voluntary power of forgetfulness, which, on more than one occasion, struck me as
singular

and

am

led, in consequence, to think, that

something unpleasant, connected with

this quarrel,

may

have been the cause of

his suppression of all direct

allusion to the island.

was impossible that

It

his ima-

gination could avoid the impulses of the spirit which

haunt the walls and ramparts of Malta

of his

muse on a

well calculated to

topic so rich in

awaken

and the

silence

romance, and so

associations concerning the

MALTA.
knights,

unison with

in

me

Harold, persuades

ruminations of Childe

the

that there

cause for the omission.

specific

must have been some

If

it

were nothing in

the duel, I should be inclined to say, notwithstanding

the seeming improbability of the notion, that

owing
It

to

it

some curious modification of vindictive

was

spite.

might not be that Malta should receive no celebrity

from his pen

but assuredly he had met with something

made him

there which

The question

as to

resolute to forget the place.

what

was, he never answered

it

the result would have thrown light into the labyrinths

of his character."

The view which

drawing,

is

of

La

is

here engraved, after Turner's

Valetta, the chief city of the island,

remarkable for the prodigious strength of

its fortifica-

which present from the sea an appearance of

tions,

unconquerable power.
This island

and

classical

is

identified with

series of historical

more

reminiscences,

certain

nected than those perhaps of any other

upon

earth.

Remains of the

Celts

The Carthaginians

left

it

spot

and Phoenicians

give evidence of their possession of Malta.

and Diodorus both mention

and con-

known

Thucydides

as a Phoenician colony.

many monuments

and can-

delabra found here with Punic inscriptions are preserved in the

From

museum

of the palace of the grand master.

the Carthaginians

it

fell,

with Sicily, under the

MALTA.

Roman

empire

the Saracens.

and on

its

From them

Roger, Count of Sicily

decline, into the

it

was wrested,

power of

in 1089,

by
and subsequently formed, with

the latter country, part of the Spanish dominions.

On

the expulsion of the Knights of St. John from Rhodes,

this island

was given

the Fifth to defend

it,

to

them by the Emperor Charles

as one of the outworks of Christ-

endom, against the Turks, which they did nobly and

was retained by them till 1798, when the island was
;

it

taken by Buonaparte.

was surrendered
to the British

1814.

It

In 1800, after a blockade,

to the English

and

Government by the

it

it

was confirmed

treaty of Paris in

has ever since been in possession of the

English, to whose mercantile interests,

in the Mediterranean,

its

occupation

is

as a station

of great im-

portance.

Malta

is

he

is

name

is still

where he was shipwrecked.

Here

the Melita of St. Paul

given to the spot

said to

his

have stayed three months, and

propagated the Gospel.

to

have

PATRASS.
Drown

"

by G. Cattermole,from a Sketch by IV. Page.

BRIG of war

in

ordered to convoy a

which they

fleet

sailed

having been

merchantmen

of small

to

Patrass and'Prevesa, they remained for two or three

days at anchor off the former place."

vol.

i.

Life of Byron,

12mo, p. 289.

Mr. H. Drury, says

I first landed in Albania, the ancient Epirus, whence
we penetrated as far as Mount Tomerit." But it appears
Lord Byron, in a

letter

to

"

from the account of his companion, Mr. Hobhouse, that

it was at Patrass the noble poet first set his foot on that

He

says, in his

" At seven

o'clock the

land in which he drew his last breath.

journey through Albania, &c.

next morning

we were

in sight of the opening of the

Gulf of Lepanto, and not

far

called Curzolari, near which,

from the small islands

and not

the battle of Lepanto was fought.

at this

moment

presented

itself to

in the gulf itself,

The scenery which

us was peculiarly

which had been so long fatigued

agreeable to our eyes,
with the white waste of Malta. To the south, not far

PATBASS.

from

us,

were

lowlands

running out into the

crowned

before us were hills

to their

side, except at the

by which we had come into

mountains of every shape.

this great bay,

We were

tion of Patrass, but did not

to see the

town

itself

advance

employed myself

bay

in a boat

opening
were rugged

shewn the

situa-

sufficiently before

that evening.

night, the whole of the next day,

summits with

wood, and on every other

dark

sea,

of the most lively green

covered with currant-trees

The following

and the night

mouth

in cruising about the

after,

of the

but on the 26th, at seven in the morn-

ing, was again on board of the brig at anchor off

Patrass.
Nothing could be more inviting than the

appearance of
the

this place.

had approached

dawn was breaking over

of the town, which

is itself

it

just as

the mountains to the back

on the foot of a

hill

clothed

with gardens, groves of orange and lemon-trees, and

currant-grounds that,

me

when

seen at a distance, remind

of the bright green of an English meadow.

The

minarets of the Turkish moscks, always a beautiful

object, glittering in the first rays of the sun,

cultivated appearance of the

and the

whole neighbourhood of

the town, formed an agreeable contrast with the barren

rocks on the other side of the gulf.

"

Though we were

to proceed with a part of our

convoy immediately to Prevesa,

you

may

we were

anxious, as

suppose, to put foot in the Morea.

Accord-

PATRASS.

ingly,

my

friend

and myself took a walk in some cur-

rant-grounds to the north of the town, until

we were

obliged to return by a signal from the brig, which got

under weigh at twelve o'clock. The ship was not long

in getting out of the bay, and before sunset we had a
distant view of a

town

called Messalonge, with a singu-

lar-looking double shore at the foot of mountains rising

one above another as far as the eye could reach, which

is,

indeed, the appearance of all the country to be seen

to the north of the

Dodwell

Gulf of Lepanto."
" like

describes Patrass as,

all

composed of dirty and narrow

houses are built of earth baked in the sun
ish cities,

best are white-washed,

the streets, and project so

come almost
and

light,

much

The

streets.
:

and those belonging

are ornamented with red paint.

other Turk-

some of the
to the

Turks

The eaves overhang

that opposite houses

in contact, leaving but little space for air

and keeping the

which in hot weather

is

street in

perfect shade,

agreeable, but far from healthy.

In some places, arbours of large vines grow about the

town, and with their thick branches of pendant grapes,

have a cool and pleasing appearance.

The pavements

are infamously bad, and calculated only for horses

no

carriages of any kind being used in Greece, although

they are

known

in Thessaly

and Epirus."

Patrass

is

supposed to contain about 10,000 inhabitants; they are

principally Greeks,

among whom
A A

are

many merchants

PATRASS.
in comfortable circumstances.

The Turks of Patrass

more wealthy than those of Athens, and

are reckoned

not less civilised.

Patrass

is

a place of great antiquity

and public

temples

edifices

numerous

which formerly existed

there, are mentioned by Pausanias, but of these not a

vestige
it

now be

can

Roman

colony,

and a few remains of

traced.

Augustus Caesar made

under the

Roman

title

construction are found,

but none of importance or interest.

emperors Patrass was a dukedom.

vaivodeship, and the see of a
situation, as
is

often

Under
It is

now

the

recovered

Roman merchants

Greek archbishop.

Its

commerce of Greece, that it

pillage and destruction.

from

settled

and traded there

in the time

of Cicero, as the English and French do now.

Andrew,

Greek

a Turkish

one of the most western ports of the Morea,

so favourable to the

has

of Patreusium,

it is

said,

was

crucified at Patrass.

Saint

ITHACA.
Drawn

A.R.A.from a Sketch by W. Page.

by C. Stanfield,

" and
passed the barren spot

Where

sad Penelope o'erlooked the wave."

Childe Harold, canto

"

Having despatched messengers

to

ii.

St.

37.

Corfu and Mis-

he resolved, while
solonghi in quest of information,
their return, to employ his time in a journey
waiting

to Ithaca,

which island

lonia hut

by a narrow

is

separated from that of Cepha-

the chief city of the island, to

and

invited,

On

strait.

his

way

to Vathi,

which part he had been

by the
the mountain

his journey hospitably facilitated

resident, Captain

Knos, he paid a

visit to

cave, in which, according to tradition, Ulysses deposited the presents of the Phseacians."

says

Count Gamba, " ascended

steepness

" Lord
Byron,"

to the grotto, but the

and height prevented him from reaching the

remains of the

castle.

Lord Byron sat reading

I awoke him on my
asleep.

able difficulty in gaining

in the grotto, but fell

myself experienced considerit.

had interrupted dreams

more pleasant than ever he had before in his life."
return,

and he

said

that I

Life of Lord Byron, vol.

vi. p.

73.

ITHACA.
Ithaca,

now

known

generally

Theaki, derives

all its celebrity

in the Ionian Isles as

from Homer, as having

been part of the kingdom of Ulysses, the hero of the

Odyssey.

It

was then described,

as

it

is

now,

to

be

rocky and mountainous.

It is evident,

that there

was a

from several passages in the Odyssey,

city

named

Ithaca, probably the capital

of the island, and the residence of Ulysses, which,

it

would seem, was placed on a rugged height, from the

lines in the seventeenth book of the
Odyssey, describing
the ascent of Ulysses with
of the latter to that
city

" But when slow

Eumseus from the cottage

travelling the craggy

way,

They now approached the town, and had

The marble fountain deep, which with its
Pellucid

all

attained

streams

the citizens supplied,

That fountain Ithacus had framed of old."

Cowper's Trans.

" The

first

thing which attracted our curiosity at

Ithaca," says Dodwell,

and

" was the remains of a

castle

city of the highest antiquity, situated upon the

rocky ridge of a steep and lofty hill, which rises at the

western extremity of the bay of Aitos.
In order to
visit it,

we took

a boat at Bathy.

oot of the hill at Aitos,

We

landed at the

and walked through some

and after zig-zagging

plantations of vines and currants

over steep and rugged paths for half an hour, arrived at

ITHACA.
the summit, and enjoyed

one of those extraordinary

views which this country of islands, mountains, promontories, and ports, affords in a superlative degree."

This place was, according to

ancient capital of the island.

sometimes

call

Indeed, the country people

the Castle of Saint Penelope.

it

probable that the castle was

who

Cicero,

says

roughest rocks.

probability, the

all

it

was placed,

No

well suit this simile

still

there in the time of

like a nest,

other place in
;

and

It is

have

upon the
Ithaca would so

little

doubt that he

alludes to this spot.

The

ruins of this city are generally identified with

those crowning the

summit of the

hill

of Aito.

" Part

of the walls which surrounded the Acropolis are said to

remain

and two long walls on the north and south

sides are carried

Aitos.

down

the hill

towards the bay ot

In this intermediate space was the

city.

These

walls are in the second style of early military architec-

composed of well-jointed irregular polygons, like

the walls of the Cyclopean cities of Argos and Mycenae.
ture,

The whole was

built

on

terraces,

owing

to the declivity

of the hill."

The guides
fait

at

their

to travellers in Ithaca
calling.

appear to be au

Mr. Dodwell's pointed out a

hole in the horizontal surface of the rock, about six

inches square, in which he said Ulysses used to fix his

flag-staff!

B B

ITHACA.
" There are no
fragments of marble among the
ruins

only a few pieces of coarse

asserted, that treasures of gold

the ruins of this place,

a gigantic

the foot of the

hill.

Our guides

had been found amongst

and that human skeletons of

had been dug up

size

tile.

Some

in the vineyards at

years after

my

return from

ancient sepulchres belonging to this

Greece, several

were opened, and remains of great beauty were

city

discovered.

afterwards saw several of them at

Rome,

the chief of which was a silver cup, about four inches in

and vine-

height, embossed with a wreath of grapes

leaves gilt

another part of the ornament

is

only an

outline, engraved with a sharp instrument, and

There were also some beautiful

up with gilding.

filled

fibulae

and ear-rings of ornamented gold, and a necklace of

It is evident from Homer
surprising workmanship.
that feminine ornaments were finely

worked

as early

as his time."

Homer
and

its

hero, that

the seven
birth

dwells with such evident pleasure on Ithaca

had

cities

many have

believed that not one of

which contested

so great a claim to

Ithaca appears

among

the

for the
it

honour of

as Ithaca.

In

his

fact,

seven in an epigram of

Antipator the Sidonian.

There cannot be a more accurate description of the

approach
given by

to Ithaca,

Homer

and of

its

great port, than that

ITHACA.
" The bark
In Ithaca

arrived

but from the public view

Sequester'd

there

far,

is

a certain port

Sacred to Phorcys, ancient of the deep,

Form'd by converging

And

shores, abrupt alike

prominent, which, from the spacious

Bay exclude

all

The port once

boisterous winds

within

ships,

it,

gain'd, uncabled ride secure."

Cowpers Trans.

The fountain of Arethusa,

in this island, is

an object

Dodwell visited it,

"
water as
clear and good, trickling

of classical inquiry and interest.

and describes

its

gently from a small cave in the rock, which

with a smooth and downy moss.

four feet deep, against which a

check
fice in

its

overflowing.

the wall,

there for cattle.

its

it falls

It

has formed a pool

modern wall

is

built, to

After oozing through an oriinto a

In the winter

wooden trough placed

it overflows, and finds

way, in a thin stream, through the glen

The French had

covered

is

possession

of Ithaca in

to the sea.

1798, and

the rocks of the Arethusan fountain are covered with

republican inscriptions.

'

Vive la republique

berte, egalite, et fraternite/ are seen scattered

sides,

but are gradually effacing.

goat-herd,
is little

who quenches

'

Li-

on

all

!'

The Ithacensian

his thirst at this limpid source,

conscious of being surrounded by such sublime

conceptions

!"

ITHACA.

Though

the

modern name of Ithaca

is

Theaki, the

natives themselves take a pride in retaining and using

the ancient name.

Salona in the

An

English traveller, on arriving at

Gulf of Corinth, was much struck on

observing painted on the stern of a boat belonging to

one of the islanders the word Ithaca.

SANTA MAURA.
Drawn by

C. Staitfietd,

A.R.A.from a Drawing by W, Page.

" 'Twas on a Grecian autumn's

gentle eve
Childe Harold hail'd Leucadia's cape afar

spot he long'd to

see,

Childe Harold, canto

"

ON

the 28th

we

nor cared to leave."

ii.

st.

40.

through the channel be-

sailed

tween Ithaca and the island of Santa Maura, and again

saw Cefalonia stretching farther

We

to the north.

doubled the promontory of Santa Maura, and saw the

precipice

which the

and the rocks

Sappho, the poetry of Ovid,

fate of

so formidable to the ancient mariners,

have made for ever memorable."

This island,

forming at present one of the seven

islands of the Ionian

name

Hobhouse's Travels.

sea,

known commonly by

of the Septinsular republic,

was

the

in the time of

Homer, and long after, attached to the continent,

Some have
and formed the Leucadian peninsula.
imagined that

it

was separated from the mainland by

an eruption of the sea

that

it

but the general opinion

was cut through by the Corinthians.

c o

is,

Livy,

SANTA MAURA.
whose account of Leucadia
declares that

it is

artificial.

is

remarkably accurate,

The canal

of Santa

Maura,

which separates it from the continent, is fordable in

still weather
and the remains of a bridge built by the
Turks when they were in possession of the island, are
;

was connected with the mainland.

seen,

by which

From

the opposite shore the fort of Santa

it

be destroyed by bombardment.

It is

Maura may

supposed to have

been colonised by the Corinthians and Coryrseans (Cor-

The

fuotes).

coast,

pi'esent

is

is

on the

below the ruins of the ancient city of Leucas,

which derives
it

town of Santa Maura

its

name from

a companion of Ulysses

situated on an elevated hill, about an hour's

walk

from the modern town, and commands a most magnificent view

a scene of great beauty and classical interest.

" Towards the

" the islands
west," says Dodwell,
of Antipaxos, Paxos, and Corfu, are indistinctly seen as

a promontory, probably Cheimeon the coast of Epiros.

More to the

forming one cluster

rian,

is

visible

north and far inland,

rises

a grand

range of snow-

topped mountains, (part of the chain of Pindos and

Tomaros), terminating the horizon of Molossia.

the spectator's eye

and the

is

rich Leucadian plain, covered with extensive

Nothing remains of the ancient

except a part of its walls, which were evidently

groves of olive-trees.
city

Below

the town and fort of Santa Maura,

built at three different epochs."

SANTA MAURA.
The descent towards Santa Maura

the subject of

is

the annexed beautiful engraving, and the distant

tains

moun-

on the continent are those observed from the sea

by Byron on his way

" Land of Albania

Theme

And

his

thee, thou

And

where Iskander

rose,

he his namesake, whose oft-baffled foes

Land of Albania

The

Prevesa.

of the young, and beacon of the wise,

Shrunk from

On

to

deeds of chivalrous emprise

let

me bend mine

eyes

rugged nurse of savage

men

cross descends, thy minarets arise,

the pale crescent sparkles in the glen,

city's ken.

Through many a cypress grove within each

Morn dawns
Dark

and with

Sule's rocks,

Robed

it

stern Albania's hills,

and Pindus' inland peaks,

half in mist, bedew'd with

Array'd
Arise

in

many

snowy

dun and purple

rills,

streak,

and as the clouds along them break,

Disclose the dwelling of the mountaineer.

Here roams the wolf, the eagle whets his beak

Birds, beasts of prey, and wilder men appear,

And

gathering storms around convulse the closing year."

Childe Harold, canto

i.

St.

" The Leucadian

promontory, which

38 and 42.

is still

and feared by Grecian navigators, retains

its

revered
ancient

SANTA MAURA.
name, as well as the whole

known

to foreigners

Maura, which name

island,

by that of Agia
is

the capital of the island."

it is

generally

Maura

or Santa

though

given by the Greeks only to

CORFU.
Drauiii by C. Stanfield,

No mention

is

A.R.A.,from a Sketch by W. Page.

made

of Lord

Corfu, nor of his having seen

Etna, en voyage, on his

it,

Byron having

visited

except, probably, like

way from Santa Maura

to

Prevesa, at the entrance to the Ambracian Gulf, in his

journey to Greece.
Once, indeed, he was nearly taken thither against

first

In a letter to his mother, dated Prevesa,

his will.

"
Nov. 12, 1809, he says,
lost in

all

the captain

the saints, the Mussulmans on

burst

deck, telling us to call on

main -yard

Corfu (which

into

God

is

all

the sails were

split,

fresh, the
to

make

in possession of the French), or, as

'

it,

a watery grave.'

could to console Fletcher

incorrigible,

and ran below

wind blowing
our chance was

Fletcher pathetically termed

what

tears,

shivered, the

night setting in, and

did

was nearly

and crew, though the storm was not

Greeks called on

the

to the ignorance

Fletcher (his valet) yelled after his wife, the

violent.

days ago

a Turkish ship of war, owing

of the captain

Alia

Two

wrapped myself up
D D

in

my

but finding him

Albanian capote

CORFU.
(an immense cloak), and lay

have learnt

worst.

and

had

down on deck

complaint was

to wait the

my

to philosophise in

travels,

useless.

Luckily, the

wind abated, and only drove us on the

coast of Suli,

if I

not,

on the mainland, where we landed, and proceeded, by

the help of the natives, to Prevesa again."

Upon one

other occasion he had

than the opportunity to

visit

Ravenna

journal kept at

more of the

He

Corfu.

will

writes in his

" Jan.
25, 1821.

Received

a letter from Lord S. O., State Secretary to the Seven

Islands

a fine fellow

years ago, and

He

clever, dished in

come abroad

to

England five
retrench and to renew.

wrote from Ancona, on his way back to Corfu, on

some matters of our own.

He

of L. by a second marriage.

Corfu

not

is

son of the late

He wants me

to

Duke
go to

next spring."

;
why
perhaps may
Dr. Cramer, in his " Ancient Greece," thus speaks

of Corcyra (Corfu)

" From the

Odyssey we learn that
then inhabited by Phseacians

this island

was

a people who, even at

had acquired considerable skill in

and possessed extensive commercial

that early period,

nautical

affairs,

relations, since they traded

also with

with the Phoenicians, and

Euboea and other countries.

It

was

after-

wards colonised by the Corinthians.

" Strabo informs
that
us,

Archias, the founder of

Syracuse, touched at Corcyra, on his

way from Corinth

CORFU.
to

for the

Sicily,

purpose of landing Cheroicrates, a

descendant of the Heraclidse, with a force

expel the Liburni, then

The date

of this

event

in

possession

may

be

sufficient to

of the

island.

placed about

758

So rapid was the increase and prosperity of this

new colony, that we find it able to cope with its opulent
B. c.

mother-state not

when

it

many years

after

its first

establishment,

bid defiance to the power of Periander,

then had the sovereign direction of its

who

Herodotus

affairs.

has related at length the circumstances which involved

the two states in
that bitter

war

and explains

also the cause of

hatred which actuated both

commencement
relates, that

parties in the

of the Peloponnesian war.

the

Thucydides

naval engagement which took

first

was fought between the

Corinthians and Corcyrians, about 233 years before

place on the seas of Greece

that epoch."

From

this period the history of

Corcyra

of factious outrages and civil disorders,

It

to the

Roman

name

after

it

had

empire.

appears that in the middle ages

tained the

a series

which continued

through centuries of misrule, and even

become subject

is

its

citadel ob-

of xogvpu, which, in process of time,

was applied to the whole town, and finally to the island

itself, and hence its corruption into the modern name
of Corfu.

Mr. Williams,

in his

" Travels in
Greece," has given

CORFU.
the following rapid sketch of classical and historical
events associated with Corfu.
for

"

Corey ra was celebrated

having been the island on which Ulysses

is

repre-

sented in the Odyssey as having been entertained by

Alcinous, king of Phaeacia

and Cicero met

Cato, after

mand

where Cato

as the place

after the battle of Pharsalia

and where

having entreated Cicero to take the com-

of the last legions which remained faithful to the

republic, separated

from him to lose

his life in Utica,

while Cicero went to lose his head to the triumvirate

as being the place

where

as having been visited

Aristotle

was once

exiled

by the youthful Alexander

as

the place where the tragical nuptials of

Cleopatra were celebrated

and

as

Antony and
the place where

Agrippina touched, bringing from Egypt, in the midst

of winter, the body of the murdered Germanicus."

"

By

the assistance of our oars, and of a slight

which sprung up towards evening, we approached the low white cliffs on the north-western side
breeze

of Corfu, and arrived

off

Cape Bianca,

extremity, just as the last rays of the sun

from the

lofty ridge of the

its

northern

were

reflected

Acroceraunian Mountains,

which stretched out majestically on our left.

the night we weathered this point, and
got
channel between the island and the mainland

During
into the
;

but the

winds continuing light and variable, we did not reach

the town of Corfu till late in the
day, and after about

CORFU.
forty hours

from the time we embarked.

part of our voyage, however,

sailed slowly
is

was

The

latter

delightful.

We

along the channel, which in some places

not wider than a broad river, with the rocky

tains

of Albania on one side of us, and the

hills

of Corfu on the other,

till

at last

immense lake.
" Corfu is

built

if

woody

we became

completely land-locked, and the town, with

castles, burst upon us as

moun-

its

lofty

rising from the shore of an

on a neck of land which runs out

and forms the southern boundary of a

At its extremity are two steep
wide and deep bay.
into the sea,

rocks occupied by a fortress, called the Castello Vecchio,

immediately below which, on the land

side, are

the

government-house, the arsenal, and other public buildworks.

Beyond these is the
ings, protected by strong
esplanade, a large space extending across the isthmus,
at

one end open to the

sea,

and

at the other occupied

by a handsome new building, intended to comprise a

residence for the lord high commissioner, together with

the chambers of the deputies, the tribunals, and other

public
ated,

Within the esplanade the town

offices.

and

is

is

situ-

again protected towards the interior by

very extensive works, and another fortified rock called

Castello Nuovo.
to

have been

to

The French, whose

make Corfu

depot, from which at

intention seems

a great and impregnable

some future period they might

E E

CORFU.
penetrate into Greece, had begun
tions

to

the old

some important addiVenetian fortifications, which were

considered to be already

The

among

island of Vido,

little

the strongest in
Europe.

which

is

exactly in front of

was stripped of the peaceful olive-trees which

had covered it for ages, and their
place was supplied
the town,

by entrenchments and batteries

and on the land

side

they had begun to dig a fosse and to construct lines

which would have included all the
commanding points
in the
of
the
and
town,
vicinity
might, if necessary,

have cut
island.

communication with the

off all

rest of the

These gigantic schemes, however, were

entirely

laid aside

by the English, the old

requiring

for their defence

numerous

as the force

Seven Islands.
" The interior
spond with

its

fortifications

probably

a garrison five times as

which they maintain

of the town does not at

advantageous situation.

The

in all the

all

corre-

streets are

narrow and

The public buildings, with the

ill-paved.
and the private
exception of the new palace, mean
;

houses very small, and of such

slight construction that
the heat in summer is almost
insupportable ; while the
inhabitants, like those of other fortified towns, have a

long and tedious progress to make through arches,

covered ways, and fosses, before
they can get out into
a purer air.

" In the northern

and western

districts the

moun-

CORFU.
tains are said to be lofty

and precipitous,
interspersed
with sequestered and romantic gleus and
Tovalleys.
wards the south they sink gradually into
gentle slopes
covered with vine and olive-trees.
Oil is the chief
article

of produce,

owing probably
manufacture.

and the

the

to the

The

wine being very

want of care and

indifferent,
skill in the

properties in the island are small;

most of

whom

style

themselves

noble, are, generally speaking, very poor.

The con-

proprietors,

sequent want of
cultivation

mated

capital prevents any improvements in

and the population of the island is esti-

at only forty thousand,

eight or ten of

contained in the
it

which are

whereas

under a better system

city,
be
might
capable of maintaining two or three times

that number.

" The
people of the Islands are a quick, clever, and
artful race.
one
They have much national vanity,
foundation perhaps of national as well as of individual
excellence ;* but

which makes them

of course jealous
of foreign influence, and not
very well pleased to see

Englishmen filling almost all the offices of trust in the

state.
Yet when we consider the demoralisation which
must have been produced by the
and venal
tyrannical

government of the Venetians, and which was not likely

to be checked or diminished under French or
Russian
* "
pagnie."

La

vertu n'iroit
pas

Rochefoucault.

si loin, si

la vanit

ne

lui tenoit

com-

CORFU.

protection,

we must admit

the propriety of having

placed every department, and more particularly every

one connected with the revenue, under a

vigilant superintendence.

It

strict

and

seemed highly necessary

also to abridge the feudal privileges of the nobility,

and that

license of crime which, even at a late period

of the Venetian government, existed to such a height,

that a Corfiot noble

bravos, ready at his

resumption, too,

was always surrounded by a

nod to commit any atrocity.

of the church property

course, great clamour

in retaining it;

among

those

set of

The

excited,

who were

of

interested

but, on the other hand, the religious

customs of the people were treated with a degree of

however commendable, would scarcely

be tolerated nearer home, and the pious Greek might

respect which,

be edified by the sight of a British garrison drawn out

under arms to salute the bones of St. Spiridion.*

" That the
prosperity of the Islands has increased
since they have been
I

think, for a

under British protection, cannot,

moment

be doubted

and the improve-

ments that had taken place even during the three years
which intervened between my first and second visit,
were such as must force themselves upon the attention
of the most cursory observer.

nary

articles of foreign

* " St.
Spiridion

is,

In 1818, the most ordi-

manufacture were scarcely

to

be

the patron saint of Corfu, and his bones are

about in grand procession."

periodically carried

CORFU.

procured

total

want of

inns, a stranger

did not happen to have an introduction to some

who

member
son,

and from the

of the government, or some officer of the garri-

might run a very

of his arrival

'

a la

fair

chance of passing the night

belle etoile.'

several well-supplied shops

opened in a

fine

In 1822 there were

a large hotel had been

situation on the esplanade

new

palace had arisen, built by native workmen, and orna-

mented with sculptures and

artist.*

university

bas-reliefs

had been founded

by a native
;

and, what

was perhaps scarcely less important, the government

was beginning to turn its attention to the state of the
roads,

and the establishment of communications with

That some abuses prevailed can scarcely

be doubted, but they were not likely to come under the
the interior.

notice of a passing stranger;

and the great

and hospitality which, in common,

other

respectable traveller, I

authorities,

might have

I believe,

with every

received from the English

propitiated

much more

strenuous reformer than I profess to be."

* " Paulo
Corcyrota, a pupil of Canova."

F F

attention

YANINA.
Drawn

"

When

by C. Stanfield,

A.R.A.from

a Sketch by

W. Page.

reached Yanina, the capital, after a journey of

three days over the mountains, through a country of

the most picturesque beauty,

was with

his

army

in

found that All Pacha

in Illyricum,
besieging

in the castle of Beral.

man

He had

Ibrahim Pacha

heard that an English-

of rank was in his dominions, and had

orders

left

Yanina, with the commandant, to provide a house,

and supply me with every kind of necessary

gratis."

Letter to Mrs. Byron, Nov. 12, 1809.

Dr. Holland,

who

course of 1812-13,

"

situated.

now

visited

Yanina three times

Knowing our

is

first

in the

as beautifully

vicinity to loannina,

impatient to obtain the

which

town

describes the

we were

view of that

city,

long concealed from the eye by the low emi-

nences traversing the plain.

At length, when little more

than two miles distant, the whole view opened suddenly

before us,

a magnificent scene, and one that

almost single in
its

my

recollection.

is still

large lake spreads

waters along the base of a lofty and precipitous

mountain, which forms the

side,

and which, as

attains

first

ridge of Pindus on this

had afterwards reason

an elevation of more than 2500

feet

to believe,

above the

YANINA.
level of the plain.

summit of

to the highest

Opposed

mountain, and to a small island which

this

lies at its

base, a peninsula stretches forward into the lake from

western shore, terminated by a perpendicular face

its

of rock.

" This

peninsula,

loannina, widens as
is

which

forms

the

fortress

of

advances into the lake, and

it

terminated by two distinct promontories of rock

on one of these stands a large Turkish mosque,

its

and extensive piazzas shaded by the

cypresses surrounding it on the other promontory, the
old seraglio of the Pachas of loannina, a large buildlofty minaret

all that irregular and indefinable

magniwhich belongs to Turkish architecture, the
minaret and cypresses of a second mosque rising above
its
The area of the
projecting roofs and painted walls.

ing, with

ficence

fortress,

which forms a small town

from the

rest of the city

by a

in

itself, is

insulated

lofty stone wall,

and a

broad moat which admits the waters of the lake.

island opposite the city

is

picturesque in

its

The

outline,

and embellished by a small palace of the Vizier's,

which is seen upon its shore. A village on its northern
side

is

almost hidden by the luxuriant foliage of the

chestnut and plane-trees growing amongst

tions.

From

the highest point of the

most imposing view of the

cliffs

of the fortress."

city

isle,

its

habita-

there

is

and the buildings on the

YANINA.

to

" The banks of the lake

present many other objects
engage the eye the great seraglio, which from some
;

points of view seems to rise from

shore

its

a painted

kiosck projecting over the waters below the rocks of

the old seraglio

a convent of dervishes, shaded by

trees further to the north

but, above

all,

the mountain

ridge of Metzoukel, which, with the height, probably

between 2500 and 3000

feet

above the lake, forms,

almost as far as the view extends, a continuous and up-

broken boundary

edge opposite to loannina with

majesty of outline, the
ficent.

Its

from the water's

to the valley, rising

of which

effect

precipitous

an abruptness and

front

is

is

highly magni-

by the

intersected

ravines of mountain torrents, which, expanding as they

approach the lake, are covered with wood, and form

the shelter to

many

small villages.

It is

formerly there were more extensive

said, that

forests

on

this

mountain ascent, but that they were destroyed, as being

the resort of bands of robbers,

bourhood of the
of
is

who

infested the neigh-

Considering the general absence

city.

wood from the landscape, the scenery of loannina

perhaps less perfect than if these forests had been

preserved

still,

have few parallels

When,

it

is

such as

may

be considered to

and magnificence."

in variety

in 1820, the court of Constantinople resolved

to suppress the tyrannous

and sent an army

to

government of All Pacha,

subdue

G G

this powerful chieftain, his

YANINA.
followers were so effectually induced by bribery

promises to desert

His means of defence, however,

against his enemies.

were

still

and

him, that he could not take the field

formidable

retired to his castle

his garrison, about

and

fortress

8000 strong,

on the lake, having

previously pillaged and burnt loannina,

to prevent its

becoming a place of shelter to his enemies but his

As these events, howdefeat and death soon followed.
;

ever, rather relate to the

his

Pacha than

to the capital of

government, the circumstances connected with them

will be

found accompanying the portrait of

ordinary

man

given in these Illustrations.

this extra-

AL2 PACHA,

ZonJan. ruAlkht..'

'
I

-/T-J^

jW .Wi // C TOt-Se.FUtt J

,"V, ,/C .-*

'.

ALI PACHA.
Drawn by F.

Stone,

from an Original

Sketch.

" In
a spring
marble-paved pavilion, where
Of living water from the centre rose,

Whose bubbling did a genial freshness fling,

And soft voluptuous couches breathed repose,
a man of war and woes
ALI reclined
:

in his lineaments

Yet

ye cannot trace,

While Gentleness her milder radiance throws

Along that aged venerable face,
The deeds that lurk beneath, and stain him with
"

It is

not that yon hoary lengthening beard

111 suits

the passions which belong to youth

so Hafiz hath averr'd,

Love conquers age

So

disgrace.

sings the Teian,

and he sings

in sooth

But crimes that scorn the tender voice of Ruth,

Beseeming all men ill, but most the man
In years, have mark'd him with a tiger's tooth
Blood follows blood, and, through
In bloodier acts conclude those

their mortal span,

who with blood began."*

Childe Harold, canto

A prophetic line, as

ii.

St.

52, 53.

will be seen in the sequel of Ali's history.

ALI PACHA.
"

On

the 12th,

me

received
tain

was introduced

in

to All

The

Pacha.

a large room paved with marble

was playing

in the centre.

He

received

a foun-

me

Vizier

standing

and
compliment from a Mussulman
down on his right hand. His first question

a wonderful

made me

sit

was, why, at so early an age,

my

left

then said, the English minister had told him

great family, and desired his respects to

which

He

now,

was

said he

had small

in the

certain I

me to

and

said he looked

consider

was a man of

me

him as a
on

like a child,

was of a

mother

my

me

and

little

sending

own

was

in

Turkey,

Indeed, he

son.

me almonds and

sugared

and sweetmeats, twenty times a day.

coffee and pipes, retired."
Byron's Letter

DR. HOLLAND'S
his first interview
Ali's character

He

white hands.

father whilst I

as his

because

birth,

sherbet, fruit,

then, after

of Ali Pacha, present to you.

ears, curling hair,

told

treated

name

He

country.

to his

Mother.

description of the person of Ali on

confirmed as his opinions were of

by long and frequent intercourse

fur-

nishes, perhaps, the best report of this extraordinary

man

" All our attention was at

this

moment

occupied

by the person of Ali Pacha himself, whose figure

formed the most interesting part of the picture that
was before

us.

He was

sitting in the

Turkish manner,

with his legs crossed under him, on a couch imme-

beyond the
the rest, and richer
diately

fire,

somewhat more elevated than

in its decorations.

On

his

head he

ALI PACHA.

wore a high round cap, the colour of the deepest mazareen blue, and bordered with gold lace.

His exterior

robe was of yellow cloth, likewise richly embroidered

two inner garments, striped of various colours, and

flowing
fined
in

down

neck

loosely from the

to the feet, con-

only about the waist by an embroidered belt,

which were fixed a

and dagger of beautiful

pistol

and delicate workmanship.

The hilts of these arms
were covered with diamonds and pearls, and emeralds

and beauty were set in the heads of each.

Vizier wore many large diamond
and the mouth -piece of his long and flexible

of great size

On

his fingers the

rings,

pipe

was

with various

equally decorated

kinds

of

jewellery.

" Yet more than

nance of All Pacha
observation.

his dress,

however, the counte-

time engaged our earnest

at this

describe features, either

It is difficult to

in their detail or
general effect, so as to
distinct impression to the

mind

convey any

of the reader.

Were

to attempt a description of those of Ali, I should

of his face as large and

full,

many deep

furrows

eye penetrating, yet not expressive of ferocity

the

speak

the forehead remarkably

broad and open, and traced by

handsome and well formed

of the face concealed, except

his

the nose

mouth and lower part

when

speaking, by his

mustachios and the long beard which flows over his

breast.

His complexion

is

somewhat

H H

lighter than that

ALI PACHA.
usual

the Turks, and his personal appearance

among

does not indicate more than his actual age, of sixty or

sixty-one years, except, perhaps, that his heard

than

is

short

customary

and

is

whiter

The neck

life.

is

thick, the figure corpulent and unwieldy;

had afterwards the means of ascertaining

his stature I
to

at this time of

be about

five

feet

The general cha-

nine inches.

and expression of his countenance are unquestionably fine, and the forehead especially is a striking
racter

and majestic

may

to

the moral qualities,

the casual observation of the stranger,

my own

conceive from

appear but what

tunities

not equally be determined in this

may

way
I

experience, that nothing

open, placid,

and

were afterwards afforded

me

is

this exterior of expression;

man

of the talent of the

be inferred from his exterior

however,

and

Much

feature.

it

is

alluring.

can

may

Oppor-

of looking beneath

the

fire

of a stove

burning fiercely under a smooth and polished surface.

" The manner of the Vizier in
this interview

was

courteous and polite, without any want of the

dignity

which befits his situation. There

is

not, either in his coun-

tenance or speech, that formal and unyielding apathy

which is the characteristic of the Turks as a people ;

but more vivacity, humour, and change of expression.

His laugh is very peculiar, and its deep tone, approaching to a growl, might almost startle an ear unaccus-

tomed

to

it.

Altogether,

was very well

satisfied

with

ALI PACHA.
the tenour of our interview,

me

for a long

and

which paved the way

to

interesting connexion with this sin-

gular man."

whose surname was Hissas, was born

Ali,

peleni, in the year

1748

cestors,

named Muzzo, was very

or robber,

and by

had been

his family

One

blished there for several centuries.

at Teesta-

of his an-

successful as a klepht,

his riches thus obtained, procured for

himself the lordship of Tepeleni which he transmitted

to his descendants.

who was

distinguished for his bravery,

of Corfu, leaving three sons.

of these,

Mouktar Bey,

Ali's grandfather,

was the father of

fell at

the siege

Veli Bey, the youngest

Ali.

Having been expelled

by his two brothers on the death of their father, he

turned klepht, and soon amassing property enough to
obtain numerous followers, he appeared suddenly with
his banditti

before Tepeleni, burnt

his

two brothers

in their citadel, took possession of the title

and

estates

of his family, and relinquished his old trade of a rob-

Harassed by the jealousies of the neighbouring

beys, against whom he could not make head, he died
ber.

at the age of forty- two, leaving

widow, Khamco,
itza,

five

children.

His

the mother of Ali and his sister Shain-

was a woman

bold, fierce,

was only fourteen when

and implacable.

his father died

Ali

but his mother,

with a handful of faithful followers, resolutely defended

the remainder of her possessions, and effectually checked

ALI PACHA.
the encroachments of the hostile clans opposed to her

but having once, with her daughter, fallen into the

hands of the Gardikiotes, they were treated with incredible indignity and brutality, an outrage never
forgiven by
tion fell

them or

Ali,

and

for

which a

fatal retribu-

upon the survivors and descendants of those

savages forty years afterwards,

when

Ali,

having the

power, horribly revenged his mother's and his

dishonour.

After a long series

sister's

of bold adventures,

amidst fluctuations of fortune, sometimes heading gangs

of robbers, at others

commanding adherents whose num-

bers deserve to be mentioned as armies

defeated, wandering alone, a fugitive, again

sometimes

becoming

a distinguished chief, whose daring followers obtained

towns and

he at length succeeded in

territories,

esta-

blishing himself at Tepeleni, and extended his conquests

to

many

districts,

to his subjection.

which he

He

pillaged,

and reduced

thus acquired immense riches,

which enabled him, not only to purchase his pardon

from the Porte for the dreadful outrages committed
by his orders upon the peaceable inhabitants of surrounding

districts, but,

stantinople, even

through his emissaries at Con-

to get his conquests

Having obtained a high reputation

confirmed

hostilities

him.

for bravery, a
judi-

cious application of money procured for

during the

to

him a command,

with Russia, where he served at

the head of his Albanian corps.

His conduct through-

ALI PACHA.
out the campaign was brilliant

and

valour

the

of his

fame and fortune

and

his military talents,

obtained

soldiers,

for

him

end of the war he pro-

at the

cured the government of Triccala, in Thessaly, with

the rank of pacha with two

was favourable

And

power.

to

The appointment

tails.

the increase of his riches and his

soon

by a daring fraud, he gained

after,

which he

possession also of the pashalik of Yanina,

secured by his gold.

It is

impossible within the limits of this sketch to

trace his political intrigues with Russia, Austria, France,

and England. A short and clear account is admirably

drawn up from authentic sources in the History of Greece,
in the

" Modern
Traveller,"

which led

The

Tepeleni

is

destruction

said to

and induced him

sought his destruction.

bought

his safety

by a

fire

of his palace at

walls.

Mahmoud

a less expensive,

if

it

excited his

Even now

Ali might have

sacrifice of part of his

not a shorter

to sacrifice his implacable

had formerly been

report of this

to listen to Ali's enemies,

wealth, but he was grown too avaricious

it

in

immense

and thinking

way

to

security,

enemy, Ismael Pacha

the pay

prompted by avarice, Ali

of Ali,

had ceased
i i

to.

to the discovery of
great

its

reached the ears of Sultan

who

by

have led

treasure concealed within

cupidity,

The circumstances

i.

death must, however, be adverted

to his

accidental

vol.

but

who
whom,

to bribe to
sup-

ALI PACHA.
port his interests at Constantinople

he sent two of

his Albanians to assassinate him.

They approached
Ismael by a stratagem, shot at and wounded him
;

but having failed to kill him,

they

and being pur-

fled,

them was taken, who, after confessing that

they were employed by Ali, was hung at the gate of
the seraglio.
The Porte expressed the utmost horror
sued, one of

at this attempted assassination of a

man who was under

the protection, and in the very residence of the Sultan

a firman was issued deposing Ali from his

province,

and conferring the government upon his enemy. Ali

refused to obey the firman
an army was sent against
;

him, commanded by Hourchid Pacha, and Ali was at

length driven to take refuge in a part of the citadel of

Yanina, with about

to his fortunes.

retreat

fifty

men, who remained attached

The place he had chosen

was a building of three

stories

for his last

the uppermost

was occupied by Ali and his immediate suite his treasures, which were supposed to be immense, were placed
;

in the next

and the lowest

floor

was

filled

with gun-

powder, ready to be exploded in an instant.

Hourchid,

aware of

Ali's

arrangements, sent to

propose his surrender at discretion, or threatened

come himself and

fire his

magazine.

be shook by this determined communication.

of

life,

to

Ali appeared to

love

apparently at variance with the recklessness

which he had shewn of

it

for seventy years,

came

ALI PACHA.

and he agreed

over him,

and

to

his treasures, if his life

whom

for this

upon

Hourchid

were spared.

that this the Sultan alone could determine,

replied,

with

surrender the fortress

he might assure himself of

purpose

his

good

offices

but his only hope of success depended

immediate surrender, and proposed, that

his

for

the present, he should retire to a small island in the

and await the Sultan's orders.

lake,

This, at length,

Ali agreed to, provided he might leave behind

man

in

at his

and

whom

he had confidence,

command blow up

his

the fortress,

if safety for

companions were not assured

answer of the Sultan.

him a

who he knew would

to

Ali

them by the

This devoted follower of Ali,

with daring intrepidity, volunteered in that case to blow

the treasures and himself into the

air.

now

passed between Ali and the assembled chiefs opposed to him, and he was received on
Courtesies

the island with an appearance of great kindness.

Here

again Ali changed his character; from the most suspicious of

enemies.

men, he became the dupe of his hypocritical

He was persuaded to issue an order to his

confidant to deliver up the fortress.

This was done,

and the treasures and powder were removed

to a place

of safety.

Among

the Pachas of inferior rank

governor of the Morea.

to

He

sympathise with him, offered to

was Mohamed,

and appearing
do any thing which

visited Ali,

ALI PACHA.
could contribute to his confidence and personal com-

When Moliamed

forts.

rose to depart, Ali rose also

from the divan on which they were

Pacha of the Morea was

and as the

he made a low and

The Pacha of Yanina returned

ceremonial reverence.
it

retiring,

sitting

with the same profound inclination of body

but

Mohamed drew

before he could recover himself again,

yataghan from his girdle and plunged it into the

back of his host with such force, that it passed through
his heart and out at his left breast.
Ali fell dead at
his

his feet,

and

his assassin immediately left the

chamber

with the bloody yataghan in his hand, and announced

to those abroad, that Ali

soldiers of

Mohamed

had ceased

to exist.

entered the apartment, severed

the head from the body, and, bringing

it

up

as the

and the

Some

head of a

it

traitor, to their

outside, held

own comrades

soldiers of Ali.

The head

of Ali

was sent

to

Constantinople, and

exhibited in the court of the seraglio, like that of a

malefactor.

As Ali had made much

an English merchant thought

culation to

for

it

it

noise in Europe,

would be a good

an exhibition

in

spe-

London, and

buy
he actually offered a large sum of money for it but
one who had received kindness from Ali, not only
bade a higher price, and so preserved the head of his
;

friend

from

this

additional

death of All's sons,

indignity,

who became

but upon the

the immediate victims

ALI PACHA.
of Turkish policy, bought these also, and gave

them

just opposite the Selyvria Gate of

burial and tombs

Constantinople.

Of Ali's
were found
time

was disappointed
short of what Ali was

treasures the Porte

be very far

to

known

to possess

aided the cause of

they

at

one

but he was supposed to have

Greek independence with a

liberal

hand.
It

is

difficult to

" virtue" was " linked

say what

with a thousand crimes" in the character of Ali.

hospitality

was

too

much

in

common

His

with that of other

barbarians, to be set against a million of his tyrannies

and outrages

and where

it

was displayed,

connected with some political object.

it

was usually

Travellers

who

visited Ali were received with great courtesy, especially

if

they were physicians, and most especially

uniform as military men.

came

in

often

assumed

when they

This character

in foreign courts as a passport to a

is

good

and Lord Byron and his friend travelled as

aides-de-camp.
Byron, in his letter to his mother
" I was introduced to
(vol. i. 12mo, p. 294), says,

reception

Ali

Pacha dressed

in a full suit of staff uniform, with

a very magnificent sabre," &c.

And

Gait quizzes the

appearance of the friends, on their travels, in his account of their dining with Mr. Hill, the ambassador to
the court of Sardinia, at Cagliari,

the evening,

we landed

when he

says,

" In

again, to avail ourselves of the

K R

ALI PACHA.
invitation

and on

this occasion

Byron and

panion dressed themselves as aides-de-camp

stance which, at the time,

appeared

less

his

a circum-

exceptionable

young peer than in the commoner."

in the

com-

Gait's

Life of Lord Byron, p. 60.

This use of military costume, to support or assume

the character of a soldier,

very peaceable travellers

is

not

uncommon among

on the continent.

It

once

happened, that a party, chiefly military men, aware of

the better reception

which a red coat would obtain

at

One

of

the court of Ali Pacha, took their uniforms.

them, a young man, who

mentals except what he had worn in one of the London

could not boast of any regi-

companies of volunteers, took these,

for

want of

better.

At Yanina they were received by Ali Pacha with much

courtesy; and upon addressing the young traveller,
Ali said to him, " Where have you served?" This
would have been a poser to most men in the same
situation

but he

won more honour by

he had done by his sword

"
JTT; rov
'

TippXidov Kopov

Ali

had too much

for his

his wit than

ready answer was,

upon Wimbledon Common."

tact to betray his ignorance of the

battle or the place

and our

city

hero passed with

the tyrant for a distinguished warrior.

/Xt'.

/'i

.'

ltmrui_'.

wui

.\,<ltt

by

I'.l'tit

fit?

fiat

Si,

DELPHI.
Drown

"

61;

Oh, thou

Muse

C. Stanfield,

A.R.A.from

in Hellas

deemed of heavenly

full oft

Mine dares not

Yet there

I've

by

call thee

later lyres

Page.

birth,
!

earth,

from thy sacred

hill

rill

sigh'd o'er Delphi's long-deserted shrine,

Nor more my
To grace

feeble fountain, all

skill

this

Happier

in this

than mightiest bards have been,

fate to distant

Shall

unmoved behold

Which

homes confined

others rave of, though they

thou, the Muses' seat, art

gentle spirit

still

their lot,

the hallow'd scene,

know

Though here no more Apollo haunts

Some

lowly tale of mine.

Whose
I

is still

awake the weary Nine

so plain a tale

And

on

wander'd by thy vaunted

Where, save that

"

W,

form'd or fabled at the minstrel's will

Since shamed

Yes

a Sketch by

now

it

not

his grot,

their grave,

pervades the spot,

Sighs in the gale, keeps silence in the cave,

And

glides with glassy foot o'er

yon melodious wave."

Childe Harold, canto

i.

st. 1,

62.

DELPHI.

OF

the magnificence of Delphi in the days of

glory and

its

power,

it is difficult

even to the imagination.

oracle

The

to present a picture

origin of the Delphic

almost lost in the obscurity of past ages

is

its

and

the prophetic cavern has in vain been sought by every

traveller to the stream of Castaly.

been large, as the tripod stood over

" That
was in the

from view.
ple,

spot

which was constructed of five

could not have

It
it

and concealed

it

adytum of the tem-

stones, the

work

of

This description of the Delphic

Cyclopean architects."

sanctuary, which was, no doubt, the most ancient part

of the temple, would favour the supposition that

it

originally of the class of rude gigantic lithic

monu-

was

ments, such as the cromlechs and circular sanctuaries

When

became a temple of Apollo

of history
but it was celebrated,

of Celtic origin.

it

beyond the traces

and its wealth had become proverbial, even in the time
of Homer, in whose " Hymn to Apollo" its fabulous
is

institution

foundation.

to

goes

An

prove the

unknown

period of

its

ancient temple of Apollo, which had

been destroyed by

was

by order of the
Amphictyonic deputies, as early as 513 B. c., at an
fire,

rebuilt

expense of three hundred talents, or nearly 67,OOOZ.

and the
ment.

sculptor's art
Its

was lavished on

embellish-

enclosure contained treasuries, wherein the

consecrated offerings of
finest

its

works of

art,

cities

and the

and of monarchSj the

spoils of

war, were pre-

DELPHI.

Of

served.

amount

the prodigious

we may form some

of these treasures,

idea from the alleged fact, that

the Phocians plundered the temple of gold and silver

to the

enormous amount of two millions

The

sterling.

Persians under Xerxes, and afterwards the Gauls, were

deterred by causes of alarm represented to have been
supernatural.

Sylla,

wanting the aid of the holy trea-

to be terrified by
sury of Delphi, was not, however,

the juggling tricks of

its

upon

resources.

its

priests

from

his

demands

So great were the early deposits,

or so constant the gifts and oblations to the temple,

that

it

bore plundering eleven times before the reign

of Nero,
statues

when
and

who

is

said to have taken five

Even

from the temple.

the establishment

credit, the

numerous.

was

offerings

hundred bronze

in the time of Strabo,

fast declining in

which

Constantine was

its

still

fatal,

wealth

remained were
if

not

final

its

enemy, when he removed the sacred tripod from Delphi

to adorn the hippodrome of his new city on the shores
Gibbon says, " The space between
of the Bosphorus.
the two mettB, or goals, were filled with obelisks

we may

still

and

remark a very singular fragment of an-

tiquity, the bodies of three

pillar of brass.

Their

triple

serpents twisted into one

heads had once supported

the golden tripod, which, after the defeat of Xerxes,

was consecrated

in the

torious Greeks."

From

temple of Delphi by the

this tripod, in its
I.

vic-

day of power,

DELPHI.
the priests of Apollo, as they were bribed or flattered,
influenced the destinies of surrounding nations
single
less

word

girl,

by them, and uttered by a senseexcited bloody wars, and spread desolation

:

just as, in a later period,

Rome

the impudent assumptions of the church of

Now,

and a

dictated

through whole kingdoms

tated to,

and involved

dic-

in war, the powers of Europe.

so entirely has passed

all

away

evidence of the

grandeur and power which once gave celebrity to

Delphi, that scarcely a vestige remains of the folly and
superstition with

which man had consecrated

but the mountain and the stream are

still

this spot

there, to aid

the indistinct traces of the locality of those objects of

devotion which existed through so

" The
site

little

of Delphi.

many

village of Castri stands partly

'

from the rock.

his

of

neck hunting.'

now
a

above Castri

immense depth
a cow-house.

hewn

One,' said the guide,

is

probably to

of a king

it is

paved, and

the other side of Castri stands

with a range of caverns

and apparently leading

and

an achievement.

Greek monastery, some way above which

in the rock,

in

a cave, supposed the Pythian,

the upper part of

On

'

His majesty had cer-

tainly chosen the fittest spot for such

A little

on the

Along the path of the mountain, from

Chrysso, are the remains of sepulchres

who broke

ages.

is

the cleft

difficult of ascent,

to the interior of the

mountain

the Corycian Cavern mentioned by Pausa-

DELPHI.

From

nias.
'

dews of

this part
'

Castalie.'

Hobhouse,

'

descend the fountain and the

We

were sprinkled,' says Mr.

with the spray of the immortal

and

rill,

here, if any where, should have felt the poetic inspiration

we drank

deep, too, of the spring; but

"
effect.'

A few yards

Note

to

as

Childe Harold, canto

ii.

to the east of the village (Castri) is the

the Castalian spring.

celebrated fount of inspiration

The water,

can

without feeling sensible of any

answer for myself)

extraordinary

(I

issues

it

from the rock,

is

received into a

large, square shallow basin, with steps to

it

cut in the

marble rock, supposed to be the Castalian bath, where

the Pythia used to bathe before she placed herself upon
the tripod in the temple of Apollo.

hewn

a stone seat, also

side

is

face

and

sides of the precipice

Upon

the opposite

out of the rock.

The

have been cut and

flat-

and niches have been scooped, intended, Dr.

Above

tened,

Clarke thinks, to receive the votive offerings.

the fountain

John,

who

is

The fountain

is

a kind of

little

chapel dedicated to St.

here the successor to the Grecian Apollo.

ornamented with pendant ivy, moss,

brambles, and flowering shrubs, and is overshadowed by
a large

is

fig-tree, the roots of

fissures of the rock,

while

which have penetrated the

its

wide-spreading branches

throw a cool and refreshing gloom over

resting spot.

"
says,

is

this

most

inte-

" Above the Phsedriades," Mr. Dodwell

a plain with a small lake, the waters of which

DELPHI.
enter a katabathron, or

chasm

and

it is

probably from

this that the Castalian spring is supplied.

fluous water, after trickling

and

the road,

enters a

makes a quick descent

the rocks, crosses

among

modern
to the

The super-

fount,

from which

it

bottom of the valley,

through a narrow rocky glen."

The water of the fount

limpid, pleasant to the

is

and extremely cold. Dr. Chandler speaks of its

excessive coldness, and says, " perhaps the Pythia,
taste,

who bathed

in this icy fluid, mistook the shivering for

the god."

"
says

Casting the eye over the

site

of ancient Delphi,"

Mr. Williams, " one cannot

imagine

possibly

what has become of the walls of the numerous

ings which are mentioned in the history of

magnificence,

With

ground.

the exception of the few terraces or

robberies by Sylla, Nero,

;

former

buildings which covered two miles of

supporting walls, nothing

siderable

its

build-

for the

now

appears.

The various

and Constantine, are incon-

removal of the statues of bronze, and

marble, and ivory, could not greatly affect the general

appearance of the

city.

The

acclivity of the hill,

and

the foundations being placed on rock, without cement,

would no doubt render them comparatively easy to be

removed or hurled down into the vale below but the
;

vale exhibits no appearance of accumulation of

stones

and the modern

hewn

village could have consumed

DELPHI.
In the course of so

but few.

many

centuries, the debris

from the mountain must have covered up a great deal,

and even the rubbish

sufficient to conceal

of day

yet

many

acquired a

no swellings or

see

therefore

Where

is

mystery, and the Greeks

risings in the

All

temples.

may

stood the walls of our fathers?

mossy tombs remain

soil

noble remains from the light

indicating the graves of the

ground,

'

we

may have

itself

truly say,

scarce their

"
!'

by Mrs. Hemans
an exceedingly
present to the imagination of the reader
beautiful picture of the shrine and site of Delphos.

The following admirable

lines

" There have been

bright and glorious pageants here,
Where now gray stones and moss-grown columns lie

There have been words, which earth grew pale to hear,

Breath'd from the cavern's misty chambers nigh

There have been voices, through the sunny sky

And

the pine-woods, their choral hymn-notes sending

And

reeds and lyres, their Dorian melody

With

And

incense clouds around the temple blending,

throngs, with laurel-boughs, before the altar bending.

" There have been treasures of the seas and

to the day-god's

now

isles

forsaken throne

Brought
Thunders have peal'd along the rock-defiles,

When
That

Hath

the far-echoing battle-horn

foes

were on

their

way

made known

The deep wind's moan

chill'd the invader's heart

M M

with secret fear

DELPHI.

And from

the Sibyl grottos, wild and lone,

Storms have gone

From

his

forth, which, in their fierce career,

bold hand have struck the banner and the spear.

" The shrine hath sunk

Mount

but thou unchang'd art there

of the voice and vision, rob'd with dreams

Unchang'd, and rushing through the radiant air,

thy dark waving pines, and flashing streams,

With

And

all

With

thy founts of song

inspiration yet

Their bright course teems

and each dim haze,

Or golden cloud, which floats around thee, seems

As with its mantle veiling from our gaze
The mysteries of the
"

Away, vain

past, the

fantasies

gods of elder days

Doth

less of

Dwell round thy summit, or thy

Though

Wave
Lift

in

deep

stillness

o'er the pillars

now

power

cliffs invest,

the ruin's flower

mouldering on thy breast

Delphian lyres now break thy noontide rest

With

Thou

through the free blue heavens thine arrowy crest

Let the great rocks their solitude regain

No

their full

chords

But, silent be the strain

hast a mightier voice to speak th' Eternal's reign !"

The names of Lord Byron and Mr. Hobhouse

are

found at Delphi, cut or scratched in conspicuous places,

the record of their pilgrimage to Castaly.

CORINTH.
Drawn

"

by C.

Staitfield,

A.R.A.from a Sketch by W. Page.

Many a vanish'd year and

And tempest's breath, and

age,

Have swept

yet she stands,

o'er Corinth

fortress form'd to

Freedom's hands.

The whirlwind's wrath,

Have

left

Though
The landmark
fall'n,

That purpling
if

the earthquake's shock,

untouch'd her hoary rock,

The keystone of a

As

battle's rage,

land, which

still,

looks proudly on that

to the
rolls

their waters

hill,

double tide

on

either side,

chafed to meet,

Yet pause and crouch beneath her

feet.

But could the blood before her shed

Since

Or

first

Timoleon's brother bled,

baffled Persia's despot fled,

Arise from out the earth which drank

The stream of slaughter as it sank,

That sanguine ocean would o'erflow

Her isthmus

Or

idly spread

could the bones of

Who

perish'd there

below

all

the slain

be piled again,

CORINTH.
That

rival

pyramid would

rise

More mountain-like, through those

Than yon tower-capp'd Acropolis,

Which seems

clear skies,

the very clouds to kiss."

Siege of Corinth.

"

My

friend the

Marquess of Sligo expressed a wish to proceed with me as far as Corinth. At Corinth we

separated
;

he for Tripolitza

I for

Patrass."

Lord Byron's

Letters.

CORINTH, from the importance of its situation on

the isthmus to which it gives its name, has been celebrated from the earliest periods of Grecian
history, by
its eventful
participation in the wars of Greece, and its

advantageous position for commerce, upon the narrow

neck of land which divides the Saronic Gulf from the

The prodigious

Gulf of Corinth.
gave

it

the

name

of the

pre-eminent advantage

of Peloponnesus.

Key
it

strength of its situation

had acquired

opulence and the arts before the

risen from comparative obscurity.
its

It is

mentioned by

Homer

the siege of Troy, under the

known

in the heroic ages,

By

this

distinction for

rest of

Greece had

as existing long before

name

of Ephyre,

and

or that fabulous
period of

Greece which preceded chronological record, as the seat

of sovereignty

of Sisyphus,

heroes of Greek mythology.

Bellerophon,

and other

CORINTH.

The
two

city of

seas,

(the isthmus

being

its

ports on the

only about five miles

became the emporium of the producand of Italy and

of Asia, by the Gulf of Corinth

across), that
tions

Corinth lay so near to

it

by the Saronic Gulf.

Sicily,

Its

riches,

from these

sources, were celebrated throughout the then

world

and, prior to

its

destruction by the

known

Romans,

must have been an extremely magnificent city. Its

immense opulence, and the extravagance of its merit

chants,
visit,

made

that

it

it

proverbially a place so expensive to

was

said,

"

It is

not for every one to go

Here the Isthmian games were celebrated, which drew to this luxurious place a vast conto

Corinth."

course from the states of Greece and distant countries.

Pausanias notices in and near the city an odeum, a

stadium, and sixteen temples.

That dedicated

possessed above a thousand female slaves.

to

Venus

The

cele-

brated Lais long resided at Corinth, and her tomb, on

the road to Cenchrese, was pointed out to Pausanias,

who

reports that her

among

fame was by no means

extinct

the Corinthians of his day.

Hither Saint Paul came A.D. 52, and continued

His two

eighteen months.

epistles to the

church at

Corinth indirectly prove the licentious character of the

people of this

" The

city.

women

of Corinth," says Barthelemy (Tra-

vels of Anacharsis),

" are celebrated

N N

for their beauty

CORINTH.

men by

and pleasure. They ruin

their health by convivial debauches, and love with
them is only licentious passion. Venus is their princi-

the

The Corinthians who performed such

pal deity.
trious

their love of gain

illus-

of valour in the Persian war, becoming

acts

enervated by pleasure, sunk under the yoke of the

Argives
tion

were obliged alternately

Lacadsemonians, the Athenians, and the

of the

Thebans

to solicit the protec-

and are

at length reduced to be only the

most effeminate, and the weakest

wealthiest, the

Herodotus

of Greece."

(viii.

state

94) denies that they per-

formed any acts of valour in the battle of Salamis, but,

on the contrary, that the Corinthian ships, under
their

king Adimantus,

returned to

when

it

they heard that the

other Greek states had

painting,

and

fled before the battle,

won

the victory.

sculpture especially in

in Corinth their highest perfection

riches

ment

of the city was

Romans

for the

and only

fleet

of the

The

arts of

bronze, attained

and the immense

probably the chief induce-

to

make

themselves parties to

a dispute which ended in their taking possession of

Corinth, selling

its

inhabitants for slaves,

all its glories to

pillage.

the Consul L.

Mummius

and giving up

This event happened under

146

B. c.

Polybius,

who was

present, regrets the destruction, in wantonness, of the

magnificent works of art by the

precious spoils,

Roman soldiery.
to Rome and

that were removed

The
other

CORINTH.

cities,

became

desolate

until

their

Julius

chief ornaments.

Corinth lay

for
colony, who, in removing the rubbish

blishment,

Long
is

Roman

its

re-esta-

found vases and other works of art and

things of value, for which

little

Caesar settled there

immense sums were

obtained.

Roman

province,

lost in the insignificance of a

recorded of Corinth of historical importance

until the reign of Julian, A. D. 360,

when Gibbon

says

" The venerable

age of Greece excited the most tender
he relieved the
compassion in the mind of Julian
;

distress, and restored the beauty, of the cities of Epirus

Athens acknowledged him for

and Peloponnesus.

Argos for her deliverer. The pride of

Corinth, again rising from her ruins with the honours
of a Roman colony, exacted a tribute from the adjacent

her benefactor

republics, for the

purpose of defraying the games of

which were celebrated in the amphiThe next vicissitude of Corinth was its

the Isthmus,
theatre."

destruction by the Visigoths, under Alaric, the scourge

of Greece.

Justinian, A. D. 498, restored the walls of

the city, which had been destroyed by an earthquake

and

rebuilt a wall, defended

by one hundred and

fifty-

three towers, which extended from sea to sea across

the Isthmus.

Nearly a thousand years seem to have passed over

this

once celebrated country without leaving a record

for the next distinct

mention that we find of

it

is

in

CORINTH.
1415,

when Manuel

Roger king of

Sicily,

and restored the defences of the

In the course of the two succeeding centuries,

Isthmus.
it

Palseologus wrested Corinth from

became the scene of tremendous

the Turks and Venetians

Turks

is

and

conflicts

its final

between

capture by the

the subject of Lord Byron's "Siege of Corinth."

Mr. Dodwell, who describes its appearance in 1805,

" The
present town of Corinth, though very
says,
thinly peopled,

of considerable extent, as the houses

is

are placed wide apart, and the spaces between oc-

There are some fine fountains

cupied with gardens.

in

enriched in the

the town,

Turkish

Acrocorinthos or Acropolis of Corinth,

finest objects in

Greece; and

if

taste.
is

The

one of the

properly garrisoned,

would be a place of great strength and importance. It

shoots up majestically from the plain to a considerable
height, and forms a conspicuous object at a great distance.
is

It is clearly

seen from Athens, from which

not less than forty-four miles in a direct line.

Acrocorinthos

is

its

In our days

" Corinth
in

The

at present regarded as the

strongest

fortification in Greece,

contains within

it

it

next to Nauplia in Argolis.

It

walls a town and three mosques."

has

still

been a scene of contest

taken, and the Greeks have gained a battle

the Archipelago," says Lord Byron, in a letter to Mr.
is

Kinnaird, written in Greece a few months only before

the warrior poet

had become the " Pilgrim of Eternity."

THE ACROPOLIS,
ATHENS.
Drown

by J.

M. W.

" Ancient of
days

Where

are thy

Turner, R.A.from a Sketch by T. Allaton.

August Athena

men

of might

where

thy great of soul

glimmering through the dream of things that were;

Gone

First in the race that led to glory's goal,

They won, and

is this the whole?

away
the wonder of an hour

pass'd

schoolboy's tale,

weapon and the sophist's stole

Are sought in vain, and o'er each mouldering tower,

The

Dim

warrior's

with the mist of years, grey

flits

the shade of power."

Childe Harold, canto

" AT Athens, on
stay of between

which he
in

the grand

"

2.

Lord Byron made a

without employing some of

monuments of

around him, and calling up the

among

St.

two and three months, not a day

let pass

visiting

his first visit,

ii.

its

ancient

of.

hours
genius

of other times
spirit

their ruins.

Though the poet has

left in his

own works an

with which
ever-enduring testimony of the enthusiasm
he now contemplated the scenes around him, it is not
difficult to

Byron

at

conceive that, to superficial observers, Lord

Athens might have appeared an untouched

o o

THE ACROPOLIS, ATHENS.

spectator of

much

least verbal

at

that throws ordinary travellers into

With

raptures.

the

connoisseur his sympathies were few and feeble

antiquities, indeed, unassociated with

had no value whatever

deeds, he

he was content

for

high names and

and of works of

admire the general

to

and

antiquary

art

without

effect,

professing, or aiming at any knowledge of the details.

It

was

Nature, in her lovely scenes of grandeur and

to

beauty,

or, as at

Athens, shining, unchanged

ruins of glory and of art,

of his whole soul

among

that the true fervid

was paid."

homage

Moore's Life of Byron.

" The
"
Acropolis of Athens," says Dodwell,

is

its

a vast rock, lofty, abrupt, and nearly sur-

citadel;

rounded by precipices, which make

cept on that side which

On

is

it

inaccessible ex-

towards the Pirseeus, or port

summit anciently stood

founded by Cecrops, whence the present city,

of Athens.

the city,

the

the area of

its

the plain, and the gulf, presented a magnificent pan-

orama.
of the

The Acropolis is now crowded with the

ancient monuments of Athenian glory

formerly exhibited

and

all

the magnificence

which

art could realise, a splendour of effect

Chandler has expressed

it,

It

its

riches

or, as

appeared as one entire

offering to the deity, surpassing in excellence,

"
tonishing in richness.'

In the days of

that

which these

contended for the superiority of accomplishing

'

ruins

and

as-

glory, volumes were filled with the

THE ACROPOLIS, ATHENS.

descriptions of

its

temples, and the pictures, the statues,

Nero plundered the

and the riches they contained.

Acropolis of statues, yet not fewer than three thousand

remained there in the days of Pliny.

It

was the glory of

Pericles, in the best days of

embellishment of

Athens, to direct its resources to the

the city

and when

enemies reproached him with

his

profuseness and extravagance in the employment of

revenues, he asserted that

"

It

was wisdom

its

to convert

the prosperity of a state, sufficiently prepared for war,

into

its

perpetual ornament by public works, which

excited every liberal art,

moved every hand, and

dis-

persed plenty to the labourer and the artificer, to the

mariner and the merchant

the whole city being at

once employed, maintained, and beautified."

" The western end of the

Acropolis, which furnished
the only access to the
in breadth,

summit of

the hill,

an opening so narrow that

ticable to the artists of Pericles to

fill

was 168

feet

it

appeared prac-

up

the space with

a single building, which, in serving the main purpose of

fortify and to
" This
Colonel
work," says
Leake,

a gateway, should contribute at once to

adorn the

" the

citadel.

greatest production of civil architecture in Athens,

which equalled the Parthenon in

and surpassed it in boldness and

was begun
B.C. 437."

felicity

of execution,

originality of design,

in the archonship of Euthymenes, in the year

This was the Propylaea.

THE ACROPOLIS, ATHENS.

" The
Parthenon, or great temple of Minerva, stood
upon the highest platform of the Acropolis, which was
so far elevated above the

pavement of the
the

same

westward entrance, that the

peristyle of the

Parthenon was upon

columns of the

level as the capitals of the

The Parthenon was

eastern portico of the Propylsea.

Mount Pen-

constructed entirely of white marble, from

telicum.
peristyle,

It consisted

of a

surrounded with a

cell,

which had eight doric columns

and seventeen

in the sides."

in the fronts,

The simple

construction

of this magnificent building, and the united excellencies

of materials, design, and decoration,

perfect ever executed.

broad, and

its

It

made

was 228

feet

it

the most

long and 102

height to the top of the pediment 66 feet

dimensions sufficiently great to give an impression

of grandeur

and sublimity.

Besides these, there were

on the Acropolis the Erechtheum,

of Minerva Polias and Pandrosus
tory

statues

with' the temples

the temple of Vic-

and the glorious enrichments of the whole

and bassi-relievi.

in

These now form vast accumulations of ruins, amidst

which it is difficult to trace the plans of various buildings

known

to

have existed there.

The

history

Athens, from soon after the age of Pericles to

quest by the

Romans, and, subsequently,

the Eastern

Empire and

is

its

its

of

con-

to the fall of

possession by the Turks,

a series of destructive events which have

left

ruins

THE ACROPOLIS, ATHENS.

of the
only, and those chiefly

Parthenon, which yet

stand on the Acropolis, to attest

After the injuries of ages,

its

former grandeur.

the effect of storms and

time, spoliations by power, destruction

by lightnings

from heaven, and bombardments by man,

its last in-

were inflicted by the removal of the metopes

and figures from the pediment of the Parthenon by
Lord Elgin. However gratifying it may be to us to

juries

possess such glorious

works of art,

and

their removal,

the injuries to the building consequent upon

it,

have

deservedly drawn down the maledictions of the genius

of Byron, and left an endless stigma upon the perpetrators of this wrong.

" But
who, of

On

all

the plunderers of

high, where Pallas

yon fane

linger'd, loath to flee

The

latest relic of her ancient reign

The

last,

the worst, dull spoiler,

Blush, Caledonia

who was he ?

such thy son could be

joy no child he was of thine

England
Thy free-born men should spare what once was
!

Yet they could violate each saddening

And

to

bear these altars o'er the long-reluctant brine."

Childe Harold, canto

free

shrine,

variety of

a casual

ii.

St. 11.

happy circumstances conspired

to give

the

artists,

residence in Athens,

among

had assembled there, that

antiquaries, and idlers, who
indescribable charm which induced many travellers
p P

THE ACROPOLIS, ATHENS.

away months without any determinate

to while

and permitted few

From

gret.

to leave

it

object,

without unfeigned re-

and enjoyment they

of the Greeks.
The Turkish

this state of peace

were roused by the revolt

garrison in the Acropolis was besieged

was

but

it

was

and deadly revenge

was displayed by the Turks, under Omar Vrione.
not long before

Upon

their

devastation

it

relieved,

marked

bloodshed and

of Athens,

repossession
their

The modern

steps.

city

was almost destroyed, and the wretched inhabitants

Those
compelled to fly to the islands for shelter.
who,

after the expulsion of the Turks, returned,

only bare walls and ruined habitations.

contests

the

have been so destructive

Athenians,

Though

found
these

to the dwellings of

the buildings on the Acropolis have

was expected.

suffered less than

The

latest accounts

by Professor Thiersch, who found the Propylsea un" the west side of the Parthenon
changed, state, that
has greatly suffered; yet, although large pieces were

blown out by the Turkish

so

strong,

that

artillery, the pillars

one was

not

thrown down.

beautiful reliefs behind the western hall

touched

proved

The

remain un-

but a great portion of the wall of the cella

has been destroyed by the covetousness of the Turks,

in their search for iron

are held together.

and

lead, with

The Erectheum

which the stones

is

but the mischief was done

by Greeks.

half in ruins,

Ghouras, the

THE ACROPOLIS, ATHENS.

assassin of Odysseus, during the siege kept his family

in

it,

and loading the roof with rubbish,

it

broke down

and buried fourteen women and children under

Unfortunately, travellers, and, above

weight.

now completing

English, are

by knocking

off pieces

for the

capitals,

the

but to a party of American

States frigate Constellation,

answer
silent

destruction,

from the overthrown

purpose of carrying

the

all,

friezes

and

them home

as

This censure does not apply to the English,

trophies."

English.

work of

its

We

whom

United

of the

Thiersch mistook for

Lord Elgin's to
not of destruction, but removal
to be

for

under

officers

have too

many

The

this accusation.

rages by the Americans

they were avowed

sins of

report of these out-

had reached England

before

in a silly and ill-written book, just

published, from the pen of one of these very American

officers,

named Wines, who

"

off pieces of a fallen caryatide,

adds,

''

knocked

boasts that they

for

specimens

and

our Turkish soldier, not conceiving any other

possible motive for such conduct, inquired if

no such stones in America!"

then,

;"

have the blame.

we had

Let not the English,

The young

officers

of this

American ship were the chief

spoliators of these relics,

to carry across the Atlantic

evidence at once of the

skill of

the Greeks and of their

own

barbarism.

This exposure, supported by their

is

the

more

necessary,

as

the

own

author

authority,

impudently

THE ACROPOLIS, ATHENS.

claims for his countrymen,
superior intelligence and

" deshigher virtues than are to be found under the

potic

governments

many

of

of Europe,"

them are delighted

more hrightly

where,

in our darkness.

however, so

of course to shine

to live

Yet

this person,

who

unblushingly boasts of outrages upon the remains of

most interesting antiquities of Greece, says

" True
greatness never plays the part of the braggadocio.
If the people under the
despotic governments
these

of Europe are less

intelligent and happy than we,
is

and they are more

than our scorn !"
But we can-

their misfortune, not their fault

deserving of our pity

not give

him any

it

pity in return.

We

laugh to see
such an animal swoln to bursting with the conviction
that the frog is a bull, and that thousands of his coun-

trymen are conceited enough to believe the delusion

but there is no term of scorn in the vocabularies of
:

the

old

contempt

or
felt

the

new

by every

world, which can express the

man

folly of the guilty braggart,

of

common

sense for the

who, whilst boasting of his

superior intelligence, acknowledges his participation in

the Vandalism of destroying these
precious remains of

the former glories of the Acropolis.

TEMPLE OF JUPITER OLYMPIUS,

ATHENS.
by C. Stanfield, A.R.A.from a Sketch by

Drawn

" Here

let

me

sit

upon

this

massy

W.

stone,

The marble column's yet unshaken base ;*

Here, son of Saturn was thy fav'rite throne
!

Mightiest of

The
It

many

such

Page.

Hence

let

me

trace

latent grandeur of thy dwelling-place.

may

not be

nor e'en can Fancy's eye

Restore what Time hath labour'd to deface.

Yet these proud

Unmoved

the

pillars

Moslem

claim no passing sigh

sits,

the light Greek carols by."

Childe Harold, canto

to

St.

ii.

10.

" BEYOND the

gate the walls project, and you have
pass round an angle of them, in order to arrive at

a ruin of inconceivahle magnificence, directly before

you to the
* "

east.

The Temple of Jupiter Olympius, of which

entirely of marble, yet survive

sixteen columns,

originally there were one

hundred

These columns, however, are by many supposed

belonged to the Pantheon."

and

fifty.

QQ

to

have

TEMPLE OF JUPITER OLYMPIUS.

" After
leaving the walls, and passing over corngrounds, rugged and interrupted by ravines, at about
a furlong distance you come to a

flat

dently artificially raised, as

be seen from some

may

paved area,

evi-

foundation walls on the eastern side, and towards the

channel of the

Ilissus,

paces to the south.

which passes

On

a hundred

at

this stand the sixteen fluted

Corinthian columns of the building finished by Hadrian,

called

by some the Pantheon, and by others the Temple

of Jupiter Olympius.

" The
stupendous

size of the shafts of these

columns

(for they are six feet in diameter, and sixty feet in

height,) does not

more

arrest the attention of the

spec-

tator than the circumstance of there being

ruins on or near the spot,

no

fallen

which was covered with one

hundred and twenty columns, and the marble walls of

a temple abounding in statues of gods and heroes, and
a thousand offerings of splendid piety.

" The

solitary

perhaps, more

grandeur of these marble ruins

is,

striking than the appearance presented

by any other object at Athens and the Turks themselves seem to regard them with an eye of
respect and
;

veneration."

"

Hobhouse's Journey.

According to Stuart's plan,

one hundred

it

had,

when

entire,

and twenty -four large columns, and

twenty -six smaller ones within the

upon a foundation of the

cella.

It

stands

soft Piraean stone, like

the

TEMPLE OF JUPITER OLYMPIUS.

Pliny seems to authorise the supposition,

Parthenon.

that Sylla sent from Athens to

the temple of Jupiter Olympius

their colossal size,
to

it

Rome some columns

:

but

when we

of

consider

appears probable that he alludes

some of the smaller ones which were within the

and perhaps of more costly materials than the

Pentelic, which was not so highly prized by the

cella,

Romans

as the variegated marble.

The

capital

and

the architrave of this temple have never been measured,

on account of the great height of the column

which,

feet.
including the capital, appears to be about fifty-five
ornaThe
are not all exactly similar in their

capitals

ments; and are so large, that they are composed of

two blocks.

" The brick

building that rests upon the architrave
of the two western columns of the middle range, is
supposed to have been the aerial residence of a Stylites
hermit it is three stories high, and about twenty feet
:

long, and seven broad

when

the temple

staircase

and must have been erected

was much more

perfect,

remained in the wall of the

and when a

cella, or

when

the accumulated mass of ruin reached as high as the

epistylia of the temple.

" The

single

column which stood towards the

western extremity of the temple, was thrown down,

many

years ago, by the orders of a voivode of Athens,

for the

sake of the materials, which were employed in

TEMPLE OF JUPITER OLYMPIUS.

constructing the great

mosque

in the bazar.

undermined and blown down by gunpowder

was

its

It

was

but such

massive strength, that the fourth explosion took

place before

it

fell.

The Pacha

of Egripos inflicted

upon the voivode a fine of seventeen purses

(8,500

Turkish piastres) for having destroyed those venerable

remains. The Athenians relate, that, after this column

was thrown down, the three others nearest

heard at night

to

lament the

to

were

it

loss of their sister

and

these nocturnal lamentations did not cease to

terrify

the inhabitants,

till

the sacrilegious voivode,

who had

been appointed governor of Zetoun, was destroyed

by
poison."

Dodwell's Greece, vol.

i.

p. 387.

TEMPLE OF JUPITER OLYMPIUS,

AT ATHENS.
Drawn

by C. Stanfield,

A.R.A.from a

IN this view the Temple

and

observer,
Stylite

is

more

is

On

distant

from the

visible.

is

The

here a more important feature.

"

The

Page.

in such a direction that the cell of the

hermit upon the architrave

Acropolis

W.

Sketch by

Yon

fane

loath to
high, where Pallas lingered,

flee,

latest relic of her ancient reign."

Childe Harold, canto

ii.

st.

11.

of
upon the ruins of the Temple
written by T. K. Hervey, and
Jupiter Olympius were
"
Greece."
in Williams's

The following

lines

appeared

" Thou art not silent!

Which

the

wind

utters,

Oracles are thine

and the

spirit hears,

fane and broken shrine,

Lingering, 'mid ruined

O'er

many

a tale and trace of other years

Bright as an

That wraps thy cradle-land, thine earthly

Where hours

ark, o'er all the flood of tears

love,

of hope 'mid centuries of fears

Have gleamed,

through the gloom above,

thy home, Olympian Jove

like lightnings

Stands, roofless to the sky,

R R

TEMPLE OF JUPITER OLYMPICS.

"

Thy columned
Are vocal

aisles with

whispers of the past

and along thine

ivied walls,

While Elian echoes murmur

And

in the blast,

wild-flowers hang, like victor-coronals,

In vain the turban'd tyrant rears his halls,

And

plants the symbol of his faith, and slaughters.

Now, even now,

" Thou

Ararat

is

moon

looks

of promise

own

falls

bright daughters,

rising o'er the waters

when

art not silent!

Ionia's

beam

Hellas, as her

Bright upon

And a Greek

the

the southern fair

down upon thy

breast,

Smiling, as pity smiles above despair,

Soft as

young beauty soothing age

Sings the night-spirit in thy

And

like

Her lay

"

crest,

she, the minstrel of the moonlight hours,

Breathes

And

weedy

to rest,

some lone one sighing

half hope, half sorrow

to

be blest

from the flowers,

hoots the prophet-owl amid his tangled bowers.

And round

thine altar's mouldering stones are born

Mysterious harpings, wild as ever crept

From him who waked Aurora

every morn,

And

till

sad as those he sung her

O'er thee,

she slept

thousand, and a thousand years have swept

wreck

Thy lyre
And a new

who wert a moral from thy

in
!

youth

spring

nor vainly hast thou kept

Olympia's soul

Iphitus has

is

on the wing,

waked beneath

"
its

string

"It.uL

.if

ca.Tt-.idi

MAID OF ATHENS.
Drawn

by F. Stone, from an Original by T. Allason.

Zav

ftov, <ra$ a,y*7ea.

" Maid of
Athens, ere we
Give, oh, give

Or, since that has left

Keep
Hear

By

it

part,

me back my

my

now, and take the

my vow

before

heart

rest

go,

those tresses unconfined,

Woo'd by each ^gean wind

By

breast,

those lids, whose jetty fringe

Kiss thy soft cheeks' blooming tinge

* "

Byron,

By

those wild eyes like the roe,

Zan

ficv,

<r<tg

Romaic expression of tenderness.

"

I shall affront the

they could not; and

if I

do

very prettily in
this day, as

Roman

all

not, I

means,
languages, and

Juvenal

ladies,

It

whose

tells

If I translate it," says

gentlemen, as

it

may seem

may affront

any misconstruction on the part of the

pardon of the learned.

'

is

as

us the two

latter, I shall

erotic expressions

much
first

were

supposed
For fear of

the ladies.

My life, I love you

Lord

that I

do
!'

so,

begging

which sounds

in fashion in

Greece

at

words were amongst the

all

Hellenised."

MAID OF ATHENS.
"

that lip

By
By

long to taste

all

never speak so well

love's alternate joy

Zaiq wot/,

Maid of Athens

I fly to

Though

Athens holds

"

am
!

gone

when

heart and soul

No

had almost forgot to tell you that I

Greek girls at Athens, sisters

three

house.

am
I

all

Lord Byron's Letter

dying

for love

lived in the

Teresa, Mariana, and Katinca,

of these divinities

alone.

Istambol.f

my

cease to love thee

and woe,

<rot$

Think of me, sweet

Can

the token-flowers* that tell

By
What words can
By

that zone-encirled waist

are the

of

same

names

of them under fifteen."

to

Mr. H. Drury,

May

3,

1810.

" In

the East (where ladies are not taught to

write, lest they
should scribble assignations), flowers, cinders, pebbles, &c.
convey the
sentiments of the parties by that universal deputy of Mercury an old

woman.
with hair,

A cinder
'

'

says,

Take me and

fly

burn for thee ;' a bunch of flowers

;'

but a pebble declares

tied

what nothing

else can."

f Constantinople.
|

In making love

to

one of these

girls,

courtship often practised in that country

wound across the breast with his dagger.

he had recourse

to

an act of

namely, giving himself a

The young Athenian, by

account, looked on very coolly during the operation, considering it a fit tribute to her beauty, but iu no degree moved to

his

own

gratitude.

MAID OF ATHENS.

THERESA MAORI was one

of three sisters, the daugh-

Mr. M'Cree, a Scotchman, who married a

Grecian lady at Athens, and resided there as English
of

ters

consul.

Having upon one occasion joined a party of

English travellers in an excursion, he caught a fever on

the journey, and died, leaving his family in straitened

circumstances.

Their

were

possessions

some

olive-

grounds, the rental of which was aided by their letting

Lord Byron
Athens on his

part of their house to English travellers.

lived with

them the

first

time he was at

return thither from Constantinople, he took up his abode

His frequent opportunities

at the Franciscan Convent.

of seeing Theresa led to his

feeling that affectionate

regard towards her, or the poet's privilege of feigning

it,

which occasioned the above beautiful

Among
travellers,

the English

who

visited

lines.

Athens were two

whose names are remarkable

with city honours.

as associated

Messrs. \V******** and C*****,

who, struck with the beauty and manners of these

interesting

girls,

honourable love,

by their attentions and avowal of

won the affections of the two sisters,

Theresa and Catinca, and promised them marriage.

Theresa was introduced by Mr.

Athens as his future bride

city,

W.

to all his friends at

and upon his leaving that

he wished that the family of his intended should

gratify his pride

by no longer letting a part of their

house to strangers.

On

the return of the lovers to

s s

MAID OF ATHENS.
England, absence, and the heartlessness of their engage-

had cooled

ments,

their

affections,

if

their

feelings

towards their betrothed ever deserved to be charac-

by such a term.

terised

They wrote

objected to the marriages.

that their fathers

Passionless affectation

the precursor to a cessation of all correspondence

with hearts withering in the

the unhappy girls,

was
and

chill

of

neglect and desertion, shrunk into a long retirement

to

weep over

deceived and blighted hopes of

their

happiness.

" Man's love

is

of man's

woman's whole

'Tis

To be
For

And

all

the love of

a thing apart

Alas

life

woman

*
it is

known

a lovely and a fearful thing

of theirs upon that die

if 'tis lost, life

is

thrown,

hath no more to bring

To them, but mockeries of the

past alone."

Don Juan,
The

excellent character

interesting

story,

existence.

canto

ii.

of these girls, and their

excited a great desire on the

part

of some English visitors to bring the young recluses

again into society.

This was at last accomplished by

the kind and gentle influence of

amiable and affectionate

them

to

Lady Ruthven, whose

attentions to them induced

accept an invitation to a ball given by the

MAID OF ATHENS.
English

gentlemen

in

at Vitali's,

Athens,

Two

situated the next to their own.

only could attend

a house

of the sisters

the youngest had been unwell

and every moment that they could withdraw from

the dance, it was to make inquiries, with affectionate
from the balcony at

solicitude,

Vitali's, of their

own

domestics in the next garden, after the state of their

sister,

the

who

could not participate in the

festivity.

When

Turks took Athens, the Consulina Macri and her

daughters

fled, in

a half-decked boat, and in a state of

where they were at first forbidden

so numerous had been the refugees from

destitution, to Corfu,

to land

for

Thomas Maitland, in dread of a

famine, had denied them admission.
Fortunately they
found a friend, who succeeded in obtaining leave for
Greece,

them
visited

that Sir

go to the Lazaretto. Here they were soon

by some friends and upon their destitute situa-

to

tion being

made known

he transmitted
raised

among

Italian,

to

to

Lord Guilford, in Rome,

them one hundred pounds, which he

the English there.

and a

little

English

They spoke French,

and

Corfu they edited an edition of

it

is

said that at

Madame

de Genlis'
" Manuel de
Voyageur," with the addition of the

Romaic or modern Greek

This interesting family
Italy,

dialogue.
is

mentioned in " Travels in

Greece, &c." by the late Mr.

Hugh Williams

of

Edinburgh, who lodged in their house, and whose

MAID OF ATHENS.
mention of them is highly interesting. " Our servant,"
he says, " who had gone before to procure accommodation,

met us

the

at

and conducted us

gate,

Theodora Macri, the Consulina's, where we

This lady

live.

is

widow

the

three lovely daughters

ours

Their apartment

and

if you

at present

of the consul, and has

the eldest, celebrated for her

Maid

'

beauty, and said to be the

Byron.

to

is

of Athens,' of Lord

immediately opposite to

could see them, as

we do now, through

the gently waving aromatic plants before the window,

you would leave your heart in Athens.

"
Theresa, the Maid of Athens, Catinca, and Mari-

On

ana, are of middle stature.

of each

is

the

a red Albanian skull-cap, with a blue

spread out and fastened

down

colours

bound

round

is

tassel

Near the

like a star.

edge or bottom of the skull-cap

various

crown of the head

a handkerchief of

their

temples.

The

youngest wears her hair loose, falling on her shoulders,

the hair behind descending

down

the back nearly to

The two

the waist, and, as usual, mixed with silk.

eldest generally

have their hair bound, and fastened

under the handkerchief.

Their upper robe

is

a pelisse

edged with fur, hanging loose down to the ankles

below is a handkerchief of muslin covering the bosom,
;

and terminating

at the waist,

which

is

short;

under

that, a gown of striped silk or muslin, with a gore

round the swell of the

loins, falling in front in graceful

MAID OF ATHENS.
negligence

white stockings and yellow slippers com-

The two

plete their attire.

hair and eyes

what

their visage oval,

have black, or dark,

and complexion someTheir

teeth of dazzling whiteness.

with

pale,

eldest

cheeks are rounded, and noses straight, rather inclined

to aquiline.

The youngest, Mariana,

is

very

fair,

her

face not so finely rounded, hut has a gayer expression

than her

sisters',

whose countenances, except when the

conversation has something of mirth in

it,

may

be said

Their persons are elegant, and

their manners pleasing and ladylike, such as would be

to be rather pensive.

They possess very considerable powers of conversation, and their minds seem
to be more instructed than those of the Greek women

fascinating in

With such

in general.

remarkable

from the
Athens.

any country.

if

attractions,

it

would indeed be

they did not meet with great attentions

travellers

They

sit

who

occasionally are

resident in

in the eastern style, a little reclined,

with their limbs gathered under them on the divan,

and without shoes.

Their employments are the needle,

tambouring, and reading.

"

have said that

saw these Grecian beauties

through the waving aromatic plants before their window. This perhaps has raised your imagination some-

what

too high in regard to their condition.

have supposed their dwelling

of eastern luxury.

to

You may

have every attribute

The aromatic plants which

T T

have

MAID OF ATHENS.
mentioned, are neither more nor

niums and Grecian balms

the ladies

sit

is

less

than a few gera-

and the room

in

which

quite unfurnished, the walls neither

painted nor decorated by

'

cunning hand.'

Since the

death of the consul their father, these ladies depend

on strangers lodging

which we now occupy.

shines as

in

their spare

But though

room and

closet,

so poor, their virtue

conspicuous as their beauty.

Not

all

the

wealth of the east, or the complimentary lays of the

first

of England's poets, could render

them

so truly

worthy of love and admiration."

The Consulina,

after the retirement of the

returned again to Athens.

And

Turks,

the latest accounts of

Theresa have broken the charm of poetry which surrounded her

she is said to be married and grown
;

fat!

i.

FRANCISCAN CONVENT,
ATHENS.
Drawn by

"

C. Stanfield,

THOUGH he

A.R.A.from a

Sketch by

made

occasionally

W.

Page.

excursions through

Attica and the Morea, his head-quarters were fixed at

Athens, where he had taken lodgings in a Franciscan

convent

and, in the intervals of his tours, employed

himself in collecting materials for those notices on the

modern Greece which he has appended

state of

'

as if in utter defiance of the

his

'

it

is

bears the date,

1811."'

with London
'

sided,

loci,'

life

from beginning

to end,

Athens, Capuchin Convent, March

12,

Moore's Life of Byron.

The genius of the

interest

genius

also,

he wrote

a satire which, impreg-

Hints from Horace,'

nated as

to the

In this retreat,

second canto of Childe Harold.

around every spot

or acted,

Byron has thrown an

and place in which he re-

illustrious

or wrote

and the convent of the

Franciscan Capuchins, after his death, became a place

of pilgrimage to all those travellers in Athens

who have

been aroused, subdued, or charmed by his power

and

FRANCISCAN CONVENT.

who

even those

are too obtuse to be impressed by the

master-spell, go there for fashion,

and

affect to feel.

Here Byron, gazing out upon a scene of which he

" that
said, when looking upon the plain of Athens,
was a more glorious prospect than even Cintra or

had
it

here he received

Istambol,"
to

many of those inspirations

his mind has given a deathless

grandeur.
" No view in
"
Athens," says Dodwell, is superior to

which

that from the convent in beauty

and

in interest

while

surmounted by the eastern end of the Acropolis,

commands an animating prospect of Mount Parnes,

it is

it

Pentelikon,

Saronic gulf,
tains.

the

Anchesmos, Hymettos, and part of the

with the islands and Peloponnesian moun-

The nearer

objects are the

Arch of Hadrian,

Temple of Jupiter Olympius, the Ilissus, and the

An open

Stadium.

which formed part of our

lodging, was perpetually impressing our minds with
the sublimity of this scenery, and with the numerous
classical recollections

gallery,

it

inspired."

In the view of the convent sketched

by Mr. Page,
there is seen over the wall of the court or
garden part
an object of great interest to antiquaries and architects,

Greek

little

taste,

monument

of Lysicrates.

have been so
its

angles

building, celebrated for

and of singular beauty,

its

display of

the choragic

The walls of the convent

built as partly to enclose

it

within one of

to this circumstance,
probably, this elegant

FRANCISCAN CONVENT.
little

structure has

white marble, and

is

owed

its

It is built

preservation.

so small that its internal diameter

is

not more than five feet eleven inches.

tirely closed

on one

Now

up and

inaccessible, until

its

It

was en-

was opened

it

side, probably in search of expected treasures.

there

is

it is

entered from a cham-

is

admitted by windows.

a door by which

ber in the convent, and light

The

of

lines, like joints,

circular cell

which induced Stuart

was composed

to think

of six layers, have been

cut to convey that appearance in the solid stone, for

the cell did not consist of

pieces.

The summit

more than two

monument

of this

is

cylindrical

surmounted

by an elegant ornament, whose triangular top was evidently designed to support the tripod which had been
the reward to the victors in the musical contest.

"
Stuart's " Athens
there

is

In

a beautiful design of the

appearance of the monument when crowned with the

tripod.

Stuart,

great care,
inscription,

who

has drawn and described

it

with

on the architrave an
says
from which we learn " that on some solemn
that there

is

which was celebrated with games and plays,

Lysicrates, of Kikyna, a demos or borough-town of the

festival,

tribe of

his

own

Akamantis, did, on behalf of his

tribe,

but at

expense, exhibit a musical or theatrical enter-

tainment, in which the boys of the tribe of Akamantis

obtained the victory
this

monument was

and

erected,

r u

memory of
and the name

in

their victory

of the person

FRANCISCAN CONVENT.
at

whose expense the entertainment was exhibited,

of the tribe that gained the prize, and the musician

who accompanied
of the piece, were

the performers, and of the composer

all

recorded on

of the annual archon

of magistracy

From

was executed.

all this

them the name

to

likewise added in whose year

is

appears that this building

circumstance,

it

above

hundred

three

it

and

thirty

years

this last

was erected
before

the

Christian era, in the time of Apelles, Lysippus, and

Alexander the Great."

Dodwell, when he was at Athens, lodged also in

He

this convent.

writes

of

it,

that

it

is

situated

the south-east extremity of the town, near the

at

Arch

of Hadrian, in the Tripod street of the ancients,

now

denominated Kandela, and which, with the neighbouring church of Panagia Kandela, takes its name from the
lantern

of

Demosthenes, sometimes called Kandela,

although Phanari

is

the

more common

appellation,

both of these words signifying lantern.

" The
upper part of

this

monument

is

hollow, and

contains a space of nearly six feet diameter, which

present the library of the superior of the convent

roof,

which

is

single mass

ment and

in the form of a

the whole

solidity,

effects of time,

is

low cupola,

is

at

the

consists of a

constructed with great judg-

which has enabled

it

to

defy the

and the ravages of the elements,

more than two thousand years

and

it

for

may, perhaps,

FRANCISCAN CONVENT.
survive for an equal period, unless

still

mutilated to

gratify

the

tasteless

it is

barbarously
of

cupidity

some

wealthy traveller.

" I was assured

by the superior," Dodwell adds,
" that
during the dilapidating mania in 1801, proposals
had been made to him and to the voivode, for the purchase of the entire monument, which was to have been

conveyed to a northern country

from

Some

and placed

and that

protection

it

which

it

owes

its

derived

the precincts of the monas-

position within

its

tery."

to the

existence

present

years ago, an exact model was constructed

in the Louvre,

and

casts of the

whole monu-

ment, with those of the minute sculpture on the circular

architrave, were taken by

have been well

sought to

make

if

Lord Elgin's

way only his

who could not

in this

those

artists

it

would

lordship had
visit

Athens,

glories which yet

acquainted with the remains of
The recent revolution in Greece, under
existed there.
its

which Athens has suffered so much, had nearly been

fatal to

many

of

its

beautiful remains

amongst

these,

the lantern of Demosthenes was greatly defaced by a

which destroyed the convent but the French viceconsul has done much to preserve or restore what of it

fire,

yet remains, and

it

it is

better seen at present than

when

was partly embedded within the walls of the convent.

One

anecdote of Byron

this choragic

monument.

is

told in connexion with

Though Hobhouse

describes

FRANCISCAN CONVENT.
the chamber in
at his desk,

it

and that

recess to the left

is

as only capable of holding one student

it

merely serves as a small circular

wing of the convent, from which

separated by a curtain of green cloth

it

yet, in this

strange uncomfortable place only, would Lord Byron

sleep.

This was related to an English

artist,

on his

Athens, by Lusieri, with some amusing jokes

upon the illustrious poet, as to the direction of his head
visit to

or

his

heels, for

one or other must have extended

beyond the entrance to the cell.

CAPE COLONNA.
Drawn by W.

Purser.

Fair clime, where every season smiles

Benignant o'er those blessed isles,

Which, seen from far COLONNA'S height,

Make

And

glad the heart that hails the sight,

lends to loneliness delight.

There, mildly dimpling ocean's cheek

Reflects the tints of

many a peak

Caught by the laughing tides that lave

These Edens of the eastern wave

And

if,

crystal of the seas,

Break the blue

Or sweep one blossom from

How

at times, a transient breeze

welcome

is

each gentle

the trees,
air

That wakes and wafts the odours there

!"

The Giaour.
Place

me on

Sunium's marbled steep,

Where nothing

May

save the waves and I

hear our mutual

There, swan-like,

let

murmurs sweep
sing and die."
:

me

Don Juan,
x x

canto

iii.

CAPE COLONNA.

Twas

oft

The grass my
On Sunium."

my

luck to dine,

table-cloth, in

open

air,

Don Juan,

canto xv.

" THIS celebrated

promontory, which was sacred in
the time of Homer, and where Menelaus, returning
from Troy, buried his
finest situations in

Phrontis,

pilot

Greece, and

one of the

is

much more

is

elevated

had supposed. It towers in impressive majesty

from the sea, and is precipitous on all sides except
towards Laurion. The view from it combines beauty,
than

interest,

and extent

the jEgean, with

it

many

overlooks the wide expanse of

of

islands.

its

Euboea

seen

is

towards the north-east, with the lofty ridges of Karystos

or

Oche terminating

in the sea, with the white shore

and rough Geraistian promontory celebrated for storms

and pirates and at present, according to Meletius,
;

denominated Xylophagos, the devourer of wood, from

the

number
Nor

is

of ships

which are

Cape Colonna

weather, when,

lost

upon

less destructive in

with awful contrast,

its

who has

terrors

visited

under the

it

well says,

strikingly

which every

bears testimony, exhibits

effects of the

times frightfully rage around

tempestuous

this

beautiful scene from the promontory, to

traveller

rocks."

its

its

storms which some-

scathed head.

" The
promontory of Sunium

more than almost any other plain

is

Dodexposed

to the violence

of

CAPE COLONNA.
the winds.

It

is

by every rude gust which

assailed

blows from the north, south, and west, and

is

it

only

partially sheltered by Laurion from the eastern blast.

During our

a violent gale

and

moment

stay, scarcely

intervened without

almost as ill-famed for ship-

it is

wrecks as the Malean promontory, nor

by the mariner.

It

also

is

it

at a great distance,

dreaded

frequently the resort of

who

Mainiote and Eubcean pirates,

from

is it less

discover vessels

and thus readily dart upon

their prey."

As a scene

of destruction,

Cape Colonna has acquired

great interest to the reader of English poetry, from

its

having been the actual spot upon which Falconer was

shipwrecked, and when he and two others only escaped.

The events of the horrors of this catastrophe furnished

him with all the frightful truths of his subject and his
poem.
" But

And

now Athenian mountains

o'er the surge

they descry,

Colonna frowns on high,

Where marble columns, long by

time defaced,

Moss-covered, on the lofty cape are placed

There rear'd by

fair

In elder times, Tritonia's sacred fane

The

circling

beach

in

all their

The seamen now

in wild
rise

hopes and fears

amazement see

beneath their lee

Swift from their minds elapsed

As dumb with

murderous form appears,

Decisive goal of

The scene of ruin

devotion, to sustain,

all

dangers past,

terror they behold the last."

Falconer's Shipwreck, canto

iii.

TEMPLE OF MINERVA,
CAPE COLONNA.
Drawn

by J.

M. W. Turner, R. A. from

a Sketch ly T. Allason, Esq.

" Tritonia's
airy shrine adorns
Colonna's

cliff,

and gleams along the wave."

Childe Harold, canto

"

THE promontory

of

rated with two temples

the

other

of Neptune

Sunium was

ii.

St.

86.

anciently deco-

one of Minerva Sunias, and

Suniaratos.

temple which yet remains

is

The

peripteral

generally supposed to be

that of Minerva.

"It

is

upon three steps, and possessed

columns in front, and probably thirteen

elevated

originally six

composed of white marble, resembling

that of Thorikos, and in all probability brought from

on each

side,

The metopse, which are ornamented with

that place.

bas-reliefs, are apparently

In

from the Parian quarries.

the time of Spon there

standing.

The Abbe Tourmont

says, that in his time

Le Roy has represented two

and two columns at the eastern front, four columns

there were
antse

were nineteen columns

seventeen.

on the north

side,

and seven on the south

Y Y

side.

The

TEMPLE OF MINERVA.
present remains consist of two columns and a pilaster
of the pronaos, three columns on the northern side,

and nine on the southern.

Le Roy has given only

thirteen columns, whereas fourteen are remaining at

Chandler says that some of them
the present day.

were destroyed by a Turk named Jaffier Bey.

" This beautiful
temple appears to be of much

JEgina
that

it is

and

than that of Corinth,

antiquity

and the elegance of

its

of Jupiter at

proportions indicates

a more recent structure than the Parthenon.

Vitruvius asserts,

that

the temple of Castor, in the

Flaminian circus at Rome, was

Minerva

less

at

similar

to

that of

Sunium.

" The
temple on the Sunium promontory, which
situated near the sea,

and exposed

is

to continual winds,

has been corroded by the saline effluvia, insomuch that

the angles of the Ratings have lost their original sharpness

the

and instead of the golden patina that

seen on

marble of Sunium exhibits

the

Parthenon,

is

its

original whiteness, which, contrasted with the bright

blue sky above, and the dark green shrubs of the fore-

ground, has a singular and lively

effect.

of Sophocles have disappeared, and are

some wild

olive-trees

" The
temple

is

still

remain.

forests

replaced by

and dwarfish junipers.

supported on the north

regularly constructed terrace-wall, of

layers of stone

The

side by a

which seventeen

Some metopae

are scat-

TEMPLE OF MINERVA.
tered

among

the ruins,

Valuable remains might be discovered by

decayed.

turning up the

earth

the travellers

among

but they are corroded and

have had

sufficient

and

unfortunate,

that

visited this place,

none

it

who have

is

means, or enterprise, to

leisure,

undertake an excavation which promises

Mons. Le Chevalier indeed, on

at

Sunium, and had the

way

to Troy, stopped

interior of the

temple exca-

but having found some

human

Greek workmen were unwilling

to pro-

vated in his presence

skeletons, the

his

much.

so

ceed in the undertaking, from a supposition that

had

it

once been a church.

" The

fallen

columns are scattered about below the

which they form the richest foreground.

Some have fallen into the sea, and others have been

temple,

to

stopped by ledges and projections of the rock.

down

went

the steepest part of the precipice, and found a

metopa near the water, beautifully sculptured,

corroded by the spray of the

" Several

frusta of

but

sea.

columns are found a

little

below

the north side of the temple, with Doric capitals of

white marble, of smaller dimensions than those of the

temple.

These are the remains of the propylsea

there seems to have been nearly the

same

and

difference

and proportion between the propylsea of Sunium and

its temple, as there is between the Athenian propylsea

and the Parthenon.

The

ancients probably had

some

TEMPLE OF MINERVA.
settled rule

concerning the reciprocal proportions of

these two edifices to one another.

" As we were desirous of

making several drawings

we remained here

of this beautiful temple,

and

four days,

slept in a cavern in the side of the precipice,

commanded

Dodwell's Tour through Greece.

the Saronic Gulf."

" In

all Attica,"

Childe Harold,

"

if

says Lord

we

Byron, in a note to

except Athens itself and

is

are an inexhaustible source of observation

to

Ma-

no scene more interesting than Cape

To the antiquary and artist, sixteen columns

rathon, there

Colonna.

which

a view over the wide and varied shores of

and design
the philosopher, the supposed scene of some of
;

unwelcome

Plato's conversations will not be

and the

traveller will be struck with the beauty of the

prospect

over

'

isles

of Minerva

that crown the

may

^gean

This Temple

deep.'

be seen at sea from a great distance.

In two journeys which

made, and one voyage to Cape

Colonna, the view from either side by land was less strikI

ing than the approach from the

land excursion

we had

In our second

isles.

a narrow escape from a

party of

Mainoites, concealed in the caverns beneath.

We were

told afterwards by one of their prisoners

subsequently

ransomed, that they were deterred from attacking us

by the appearance of my two Albanians conjecturing,
:

very sagaciously, but falsely, that

guard of these Arnaouts

at

we had

a complete

hand, they remained

sta-

TEMPLE OF MINERVA.
tionary,
to

and thus saved our party, which was too small

have opposed any effectual resistance."

There is a curious anecdote mentioned

in a note to

the Giaour, in connexion with the escape of Lord

Byron

Cape Colonna, which shews that a superstition

at the

of second hearing, like that of the second sight

among

the Highlands of Scotland, prevails in Greece.

A
who

whimsical story
paid a

S.

related of a party of sailors

Temple of Minerva Sunias.

the Garland was cruising off Cape
the

visit to

When H. M.

is

Colonna, some of the crew obtained leave to land.

For

provided themselves with a tub of tar, or

fun they had

black paint, which they carried up to the Temple, where
some of them actually succeeded in climbing to the
architrave,

enormous

and painting upon

letters,

the

name

its

whole length, in

of their ship.

Some

set to

work below, and painted black bases to the columns

and others amused themselves by daubing devices on
;

the fallen masses.

ter

It

would seem, however, that Jupi-

Pluvius came in aid of Minerva, to avenge her

violated fane, for one of the records of their

by the

tars,

was

" It rains

z z

like

I!"

visit, left

SANTA SOPHIA,
CONSTANTINOPLE.
Drawn

"

by D. Roberts, A.R.A.,from a Sketch by

W.

Page.

Sophia's cupola with golden gleam."

Don Juan,
" Of
Constantinople you
different

travels

strangely

when she

by

them

inside

find

many

St. 3.

descriptions in

but Lady Wortley Montague

'

says,

St. Sophia's.'

figure

will

canto v.

and out

errs

would cut a strange

have seen them both, surveyed
St. Paul's

attentively.

St.

Sophia's

is

un-

doubtedly the most interesting, from its immense antiand the circumstance of all the Greek emperors,
quity,

from Justinian, having been crowned there, and several

murdered at the

altar."

Byron's Letter

to his

Mother.

GIBBON, quoting the authority of the old historians,

thus describes the structure and splendour of this cele" The
which was
brated
temple

principal church,

dedicated by the founder of Constantinople to Saint

Sophia, or the eternal wisdom, had been twice destroyed

by

fire, after

the exile of John Chrysostom, and during

SANTA SOPHIA.
the

Nika of the blue and green

No

factions.

sooner

did the tumult subside, than the Christian populace

but they might

have rejoiced in the calamity, had they foreseen the
glory of the new temple, which at the end of forty days
deplored their sacrilegious rashness

was strenuously undertaken by the piety of Justinian.

The ruins were cleared away, a more spacious plan
was described

and

as

it

required the consent of some

proprietors of ground, they obtained the most exorbitant

terms from the eager desires and timorous conscience

of the monarch.

Anthemius formed the design, and

his genius directed the hands of ten thousand workmen, whose payment in pieces of fine silver was never

The emperor

delayed beyond the evening.

himself,

clad in a linen tunic, surveyed each day their rapid

and encouraged their diligence by his famihis zeal, and his rewards.
The new cathedral

progress,
liarity,

of St. Sophia

was consecrated by the

patriarch, five

years, eleven months, and ten days from the

dation

and in the midst of the solemn

nian exclaimed, with devout vanity,

who hath thought me worthy

work

to

have vanquished thee,

pride of the

Roman

'

first

foun-

festival, Justi-

Glory be to God,

accomplish so great a

Solomon

'
!

But the

Solomon, before twenty years had

was humbled by an earthquake, which overthrew the eastern part of the dome. Its splendour was
elapsed,

again restored by the perseverance of the same prince

SANTA SOPHIA.
and

in

the

celebrated

year of his reign, Justinian

thirty-sixth

the

second dedication of a temple, which

remains, after twelve centuries, a stately

his

The

fame.

now

architecture of St. Sophia,

converted into the

principal

imitated by the Turkish sultans

pile

monument

mosch,

which

of
is

has been

and that venerable

admiration of the

continues to excite the fond

Greeks, and the more rational curiosity of European

The eye

travellers.

of the spectator

is

disappointed

by an irregular prospect of half-domes and shelving

roofs

the western front,

destitute of simplicity

and magnificence

much

of dimensions has been

the

Latin

the principal approach,

erected an aerial cupola,

architect

who

The dome of

illuminated by four-and-twenty

windows,

formed with so small a curve, that the depth

only to one-sixth of

diameter
centre,

is

its

first

entitled to the praise of

is

bold design and skilful execution.

Sophia,

scale

surpassed by several of

But the

cathedrals.

and the

is

diameter

one hundred and

is

St.
is

equal

the measure of that

fifteen feet,

and the

where a crescent has supplanted the

lofty

cross, rises

hundred and eighty

The circle which encom-

to the perpendicular height of one

feet

above the pavement.

passes the dome, lightly reposes on four strong arches,

and
piles,

their weight

is

whose strength

firmly supported
is

assisted

by four massy

on the northern and

southern sides by four columns of Egyptian granite.

3 A

SANTA SOPHIA.

Greek

cross,

inscribed in a quadrangle, represents

the form of the edifice

dred and forty-three

nine

the exact breadth

is

two hun-

and two hundred and

feet,

sixty-

be assigned for the extreme length from the

may

nine western doors which

sanctuary in the east to the
into the vestibule, and from thence into the

open

narthex, or exterior portico.

of the church,
;

was

filled

or body

by the congregation of the

but the two sexes were prudently distinguished,

and the upper and lower

the

The nave,

station of the penitents.

humble

faithful

That portico was the

more

of the
private devotion

northern and southern

on either
patriarch,

galleries

were allotted

women.

for

Beyond the

piles, a balustrade,

terminated

by the thrones of the emperor and the

divided the nave from the choir; and the

side

was occupied by
itself, a name which

the steps of the altar,

space, as far as
the clergy and singers.
insensibly

The

became familiar

altar

to Christian ears,

was placed

in the eastern recess, artificially built in the

demi-cylinder

and

this sanctuary

form of a

communicated by

several doors with the sacristy, the vestry, the baptistery,

and the contiguous buildings, subservient

pomp

either to the

of worship, or the private use of the ecclesiastical

ministers.

The memory of

past calamities inspired

Justinian with a wise resolution, that no wood, except

for the doors, should be admitted into the

new

and the choice of the materials was applied

edifice

to

the

SANTA SOPHIA.
strength,

the lightness, or the

The

spective parts.

solid

splendour of the re-

which sustained the

piles

hewn

cupola were composed of huge blocks of freestone,

and
by
and firmly cemented by the infusion of lead and quicklime but the weight of the cupola was diminished by
circles of iron,

triangles, fortified

into squares

the

levity of

substance, which

its

pumice-stone that

sort.

less

The whole frame

structed of brick

either of

floats in the water, or of bricks

the Isle of Rhodes, five times

ordinary

consists

from

ponderous than the

of the edifice

was con-

but those base materials were con-

cealed by a crust of marble

and the

inside of St. Sophia,

the cupola, the two larger and the six smaller semi-

domes, the walls, the hundred columns, and the pavement, delight even the eyes of barbarians, with a rich

and variegated picture.

" A
variety of ornaments and figures was curiously
expressed in mosaic and the images of Christ, of the
;

Virgin, of saints, and of angels, which have been defaced by Turkish fanaticism, were dangerously exposed
to the superstition of the

Greeks.

According

sanctity of each object, the precious metals

buted in thin leaves or in solid masses.

were

to the
distri-

The balustrade

of the choir, the capitals of the pillars, the ornaments of

the doors and galleries, were of gilt bronze

tator

was dazzled by the

the spec-

glittering aspect of the cupola

the sanctuary contained forty thousand pounds weight

SANTA SOPHIA.
of silver

and the holy vases and vestments of the

altar

were of the purest gold, enriched with inestimable gems.

Before the structure of the church had risen two cubits
above the ground, forty-five thousand two hundred

pounds were already consumed and the whole expense

amounted to three hundred and twenty thousand each
;

reader, according to the measure of his belief,

estimate their value either in gold or silver

sum

of one million sterling

computation.

monument
thusiast

who

tempted

to

the result of the lowest

is

and

entered the

suppose that

dome
it

artifice,

insignificant

was the

is

surface of the temple

and the en-

residence, or even

Yet,

how

the labour,

pared with the formation of the

upon the

religion

of St. Sophia might be

the workmanship, of the Deity.

how

a laudable

is

temple

magnificent

of national taste

may

but the

dull

if it

is

the

be com-

vilest insect that

crawls

"
!

When, in 1453, Constantinople was taken by

Mahomet the Second, and the Turks rushed into the
devoted

city,

the terrified

inhabitants,

" from
every

part of the capital, flowed into the church of St. Sophia.

In the space of one hour, the sanctuary, the choir,

the nave, the upper and lower galleries, were filled

with the multitudes of fathers and husbands, of

monks, and

women

and children, of

priests,

The fane of

Sophia was violated, as well as that

St.

religious virgins."

of every other temple in which the wretched Greeks

SANTA SOPHIA.
sought a momentary security

they were dragged from

the sacred domes and the altars to the slave-market,

and from every place where they had sought refuge

within the walls, to become the victims of the passions,
the cupidity, and the power of their conquerors.

" The
profanation of the plunder of the monasteries

and churches excited the most

dome

of St. Sophia

itself,

The

tragic complaints.

the

earthly heaven,

the

second firmament, the vehicle of the cherubim, the

throne of the glory of God, was despoiled of the obla-

and the gold and silver, the pearls and

most
jewels, the vases and sacerdotal ornaments, were
wickedly converted to the service of mankind. After
tions of ages

the divine images had been stripped of

all

that could

be valuable to a profane eye, the canvass, or the wood,

was

torn, broken,

or burnt, or

trod under foot, or

vilest
applied, in the stables or the kitchen, to the

uses."

Gibbon's Decline and Fall.

After eight hours of disorder and rapine, on the

me-

morable twenty-ninth of May, 1453, the Sultan entered

in triumph, by the gate of St. Romanus, the city he

had conquered. " At the principal door of St. Sophia

he alighted from his horse, and entered the dome and
;

such was his jealous regard for that

monument

of his

on observing a zealous Mussulman in the act

of breaking the marble pavement, he admonished him

glory, that

with his scymetar, that,

if

the spoil and the captives

SANTA SOPHIA.
were granted

to the

the public and private

soldiers,

buildings had been reserved for the prince.

command

the

metropolis

transformed into a mosch

of the eastern

his

church was

the rich and portable in-

struments of superstition were removed

were thrown down

By

the crosses

and the walls, which were covered

with images and mosaics, were washed and

and restored to a state of naked simplicity.

purified,

On

the

same day, or on the ensuing Friday, the muezin or

crier ascended the lofty turret, and proclaimed the

name

ezan, or public invitation in the

prophet

the

of

God and

his

iman preached and Mahomet the Second

namaz of prayer and thanksgiving on
;

performed the

the great altar, where the Christian mysteries had so

been celebrated before the

lately

last of the Caesars."

" In the new character of a

mosch, the cathedral of
St.

Sophia was

crowned with

endowed with
minarets,

lofty

an ample revenue,*
and

surrounded with

groves and fountains,

for

and

refresh-

ment

The same model was

imitated

of the Moslems.

in the

was

jami or royal

built,

the devotion

rrioschs

and the

first

of these

by Mahomet himself, on the ruins of the

church of the Holy Apostles and the tombs of the

Greek emperors."
*

Gibbon's Decline and Fall.

Tournefort says, 800,000

livres

about 32,000/.

SANTA SOPHIA,
FROM THE BOSPHORUS.
Drawn by D.

"

Roberts,

Stamboul

from a Sketch by R.
*

(Alas

Gay were
All

felt

Nor

pollute Sophia's shrine,

still

pervade

my

strain

!)

her minstrels once, for free her throng,

the

common

oft I've seen

As woo'd

her very altars eyes in vain

her woes will

A.R.A.

Though turbans now

And Greece

Cockerell,

joy they

now must

feign

such sight, nor heard such song,

the eye, and thrill'd the Bosphorus along."

Childe Harold, canto

ii.

st.

79.

IN Tournefort's account of Constantinople, he says,

" The
mosques stand single, within a spacious enclosure
planted with fine trees, adorned with delicate fountains.

They

suffer not a

dog

to enter;

no one presumes

to hold

discourse there, or do the least irreverent action

are well endowed,

"

St.

Sophia

Its situation is

best

and

is

and

they

far exceed ours in riches.

the most perfect of all these mosques.

advantageous, for

it

stands in one of the

finest parts of Constantinople, at the top of the

ancient Byzantium and of an eminence that descends

gradually

down

to the sea

by the Point of the Seraglio.

SANTA SOPHIA.
This church, which

is

in
certainly the finest structure

the world next to St. Peter's at

unwieldy without.

dome, which

is

The plan

is

Rome,* looks

to be very

almost square

and the

the only thing worth remarking, rests

which have
outwardly on four prodigious large towers,
been added of late years to support this vast building
and make it immovable, in a country where whole
cities

are often overthrown by earthquakes.

lages

whose revenues belong

large privileges

The

vil-

mosques have

to the royal

their inhabitants are exempt from quar-

from being oppressed by the bashaws,

tering soldiers, and

who, when they travel that way, turn aside."

The most

striking impression

made by

the

first

view

of Constantinople arises from the peculiar character of

its

minarets and domes.

When

presented to the eye of

a stranger, there is a novelty and a splendour in their

Oriental appearance which leads the visitor to imagine
that he
its

is

him.
only dreaming of the scenes before

Of

with Naples, Lord

picturesque beauty as compared

Byron was no judge,

as

he had never

visited the latter

many, however, who have seen both prefer Naples,

"
and among them MacFarlane, who says, a Claude Lor-

city

raine would, after the comparison, return with increased

adoration to the southern parts of the Italian peninsula."

* Tournefort was at
Constantinople in 1702.
then built.

St. Paul's

was not

SPOLETO.
Drawn

LORD BYRON,

by J, D. Harding.

in

his journey to Rome,

passed
but
he
makes
through Spoleto ;
scarcely any other
mention of it than in a note in the fourth canto of

Childe Harold upon the Temple of Clitumnus, where

he says, " No book of travels has omitted to
expatiate

on the Temple of the Clitumnus, between

Foligno and
and
no
site
or
even
in
Spoleto ;
scenery,
Italy, is more
worthy a description." He once more mentions it in
a letter to Mr. Murray, published in Moore's Life of
Byron, as one of the towns that he visited.
Spoleto,

anciently Spoletium,

was colonised above

years before Christ: according to Livy,

five
it

hundred

successfully

opposed an attack of the Carthaginian army under

march through Umbria after

Thrasymene. The refusal of the people

Hannibal, in
tory at

its

its

vic-

to sur-

render their city checked the advance of the Carthaginian general upon
forces to

Picenum.

ancient gate

Rome, and Hannibal drew

An

off his

inscription over the arch of an

commemorates

this event,

3c

where the record

SPOLETO.

is still

proudly pointed out by the inhabitants

gate bears the

name

The

Sylla.

summit of a

is

city

and,

hill,

most picturesque

situated

upon the

externally,

in Italy

of Italy.

cities

wars of Marius

suffered severely during the civil

and

and the

of the Porto d'Annibale.

Spoletium ranked high among the

It

it

is

side

and

one of the

but the remains of

its

cele-

brated aqueduct and citadel have no higher antiquity

"

Eustace says,

than Theodoric.

was destroyed

it

rebuilt by Narses, the rival

during the Gothic war, and

and successor

The aqueduct,

to Belisarius."

crossing

the deep and narrow valley which separates the hill

mass of
upon which Spoleto is built from the general

the mountains, and serving both as a conduit and a

upon a range of ten pointed arches of

enormous height. Mr. Woods states the elevation at

bridge, rests

250

and Addison

feet,

pancies of travellers

it

the former.

probable

citadel,

with a

stone

230 yards

will

be

Some

In these discre-

fair to

take the most

of the arches have been

one over the other.

divided into two

The

at

an immense stone building surrounded

rampart,

crowns

The cathedral

looking the town.

lofty
is

point over-

also in a

com-

was raised by the Lombard dukes,

an
anomalous appearance of Gothic
but it presents now
arches, supported by Grecian columns, the incongruity

manding

of

situation

it

some modern Goth.

Remains of Roman

antiquity

SPOLETO.
are found

had

at

Spoleto,

particularly

The

lain buried for centuries.

that

bridge

which

torrent

it

the situation

had long changed its course, and

of the bridge had been concealed under

the

of the

formerly crossed

detritus

As

mountains.

object in landscape scenery, Spoleto

almost every point of view

buildings which
raised

are

by the

among

its

it

is

an

is

interesting

unrivalled

in

and the

picturesque,

remain in

commanding situations,
Romans, the Goths, and the Lombards,
striking features. The castle, the gigantic

aqueduct, the richly wooded side of the Monte Luco,

speckled with villas and hermitages, the bridge and
the river, are materials supplied here to the
painter
so

profusely,

and

in such arrangement,

that he has

only to transfer to his canvass any view of Spoleto,

it becomes a beautiful
picture.

and

Some

years ago, the postmaster of Spoleto

band of

chief of a

villains

who

infested

was the

Monte Somma,

a ridge of the Appennines about four miles distant

between Spoleto and Strettura, the next

post station
towards Rome.
at his house,

summoned
spot,

When

travellers

he contrived

them

their attack

the

strictness

French were
of their police,

in

possession

and the

he had

at a certain

murder and

lence often accompanied their robberies.

when

until

and posted them

his brigands,

whence they made

worth robbing arrived

to detain

vio-

At length,
of Italy,

severity

the

of their

SPOLETO.
punishments, which certainly followed detection, led to
the destruction of this

gang of bandits

and upon the

discovery of the postmaster's connexion with them, he

was

seized,

and shot

in the market-place of Spoleto.

PIAZETTA,
VENICE.
Drown

"

Her

by S. Prout.

Venice, lost and won,

hundred years of freedom done,

a sea-weed, into whence it rose

thirteen

Sinks, like

Better be whelm'd beneath the waves, and shun,

Even in destruction's depth, her foreign foes,

From whom submission wrings an infamous repose.
" In
youth she was

a new Tyre,

all glory,

Her very by-word sprung from victory

The " Planter of the Lion," which through

And

Though making many

And

fire

blood she bore o'er subject earth and sea

slaves, herself

Europe's bulwark 'gainst the Ottomite

Witness Troy's

rival,

Candia

Vouch

Immortal waves that saw Lepanto's

it,

Bespeaks the pageant of

ye

blight.

" Statues of
the long
all shiver'd
glass
Of her dead Doges are declined to dust ;
vast

fight

For ye are names no time nor tyranny can

But where they dwelt, the

file

and sumptuous

their splendid trust

3D

still free,

pile

P1AZETTA.
Their sceptre broken, and their sword in rust,

Have

yielded to the stranger

empty halls,
and
streets,
foreign aspects, such as must
Too oft remind her who and what enthrals,
:

Thin

Have

flung a desolate cloud o'er Venice's lovely walls."

Childe Harold, canto

" Venice
pleases

much.

me

see them,

as

much

as I expected,

one of those places which

It is

and has haunted me most,

and
I

iv.

expected

know

before

after the East.

I like

the gloomy gaiety of their gondolas, and the silence of

their canals.

do not even

the city, though

costume
too,

is

dislike the evident

regret the singularity of

however, there

much

is

left still

its

decay of
vanished

the Carnival,

coming."
Letter to Mr. Murray, " Life of Lord Byron."

The
the sea,

Piazetta

is

and extends

of the Place of St.

Ducal Palace,
and

all

the state entrance to Venice from

to the

Mark.

in all the

the topsy-turvy of

church and the eastern end

In the view here given, the

grandeur of
its

its

massiveness,

architectural character,

a vast incumbent structure upon an apparently very inadequate support,

right, the

appears on the

left

Mint and the Library of

hand

St.

and on the

Mark

beneath

which are a range of shops under a colonnade, extending into and around the Place of St. Mark. In the
foreground are the square marble pillars which Simond

mentions as being covered with Syriac characters, upon

PIAZETTA.

which the gates of the

were once suspended.

city of Acre

In the distance terminating the Piazetta, and parallel

with the sea fagade of the palace, are the two granite

columns

(thirty feet

eight, each in a single piece)

hy

which were brought

to

Venice in the early part of

the twelfth century by the victorious doge, Dominico

Micheli, on his return from

the trophies

They were
which he took from some island

in the Archipelago,

where he had compelled the em-

among

Palestine.

peror of the East to respect the Venetian flag.

In

1329, the Venetians placed upon one of these columns

a statue of

St.

who

Venice,

Mark

to St.

Theodore, anciently the patron saint of

afterwards lost his election, in opposition

;

when

sought a

tector,

the senate, tired of their old pro-

new

bronze winged-lion
the

emblem

of the

one.

Upon

the other was the

the companion of St.

new patron

saint

Mark, and

a strange figure,

which has been oddly compared by Simond

colossal

top."

year

" a

to

chimney-sweeper crawling out of a chimneyThis lion was removed by the French in the

797, and placed in the square of the Invalids

whence,

after the events of 1815,

station,

overlooking the Adriatic.

extreme distance of this view

There

is

scarcely

is

it

returned to

The

its

old

object in the

the Porto Franco.

a spot in Venice which

more

powerfully recalls the eventful history of the republic

than this

here

is

the seat of ducal power,

whence

issued

the mandates of a senate which so greatly influenced

PIAZETTA.
the destinies of Europe

iri

the middle ages

at once the trophies of this sea queen,

The

of her subjugation.

political

here are

and the evidence

history of Venice

the most interesting, except that of our

which the

own

is

one of

country, to

inquirer can turn his attention, and

of which the " Sketches of Venetian History," recently

published by Mr. Murray,

In

it

an admirable epitome.

is

the origin and progress of

are traced, and the

immense

its political

existence

resources of wealth and

power derived from commerce by a people placed upon

a spot so limited by Nature that she defied art greatly
to extend

it.

The mud and sand-banks

formed by the deposition of

silt

natural breakwater of Venice,

in the

Lagunes,

within the Lido, the

appear to have been

inhabited by a few fishermen at a very early period,

but they were unnoticed by the Romans, from their

In the

utter insignificance.

Huns under
Venetia,

century,

when

the

overran the territory of ancient

Attila

many

islands

flat

fifth

of the inhabitants took refuge on the

along the coast,

particularly within the

Lagunes, and on that of Ripa-Alta, where the Rialto,

the

first

foundation of Venice, was laid.

From

this

place the inhabitants sent the salt of their islands, and

fish

from their

seas,

to the

neighbouring continent;

afterwards they became transporters of wine and

from

Istria

the Adriatic.

to

Ravenna; and

finally, the

oil

carriers of

Their commerce produced wealth, their

wealth importance.

At

this

time they considered their

PIAZETTA.
sand-banks a portion of the Greek empire.

became

rich,

When

they

however, they assumed independence, and

established a form

of government, of twelve tribunes

and a chief magistrate, or doge.

In the twelfth century

the overwhelming power of the aristocracy arose, the

authority of the doge became almost nominal, and the

people lost

From

all control in

time

this

its

the affairs of the republic.

progress to great political im-

portance was rapid beyond

rals

One

belief.

took and sacked Constantinople

Ragusa

of

its

gene-

the coast, from

to the Hellespont, presented a chain of forts,

towns, and factories, belonging to

its

nobles,

and pro-

Candia was purchased, the Ionian

Islands and the Morea conquered, and the cities of

tected by the state

Padua, Verona, Bergamo, and others, were acquired

and annexed

to the

mud-bank.

The trade of the Levant

dominions of

this

metropolis on a
in the fifteenth

century was entirely in the hands of the Venetians,

through
into

whom

Europe

all

and

the productions of the East passed

their

commerce had become a source

of power and splendour almost

of other nations.

unknown

With Vasco de Gama's

in the history

discovery of the

passage to the East by the Cape of Good Hope, in 1497,

began the
Its

first

decline of the source of Venetian greatness.

accumulated resources, when

waste supplied, rapidly sunk, and

withered.

One

volted from

it,

it

could not have

its political

its

influence

colony after another was taken, or re-

until, despoiled of its territory,

3E

and without

PIAZETTA.
respect at
fraternal

home

or abroad,

hands of the French

it

fell,

in 1797, into the

after the events of 1816,

was restored to Austrian protection.

" he found Venice
just what he
Forsyth says, that
had imagined it to be from books and prints," if so,

however,

it

was a singular anticipation for one of the most

common remarks made by travellers, upon their ap-

his

proaching Venice, or arriving there,

surprise that
It is

Saint

is

it

so

is

an expression of

unlike what they had expected.

of
true, that the Bridge of the Rialto, the Place

Mark, and the Ducal Palace, have been

so often

described and engraved, that they are instantly recog-

no language has ever conveyed

"
a just idea of this extraordinary city:
Every prebeen
it
has
of
conceived idea
Venice,
justly remarked,

nised

but, as a whole,

as a city or as a society, belongs to the imagination;

and on beholding
than dispelled.

it

It is

the illusion

is

embodied, rather

one of the few places that do not

disappoint the expectation, because

anticipations are dispelled

by the

if

some visionary

reality, there is still

and gorgeousness, to
strangeness enough, and novelty,
sustain the

moral

same pitch of excitement.

of the scene comes in aid of the

mind

interest

The

to the

effect

maproduced by the picture

of former splendour and actual decay,
jestic combination
;

'

we

feel that

we

and in gazing upon the

are reading a history.'

"

Conder's Italy.

I-

f ,-n,lfn,

>

..

i /,

Jfusreut,

SoUt

btf

('.

Tilt. 86.

J-'i,

MARGUERITA COGNI.
Drawn

"

H. Harlowe.

by the late G.

I like

the

From

the rich peasant cheek of ruddy bronze,

And

women,

too, (forgive

my

folly),

large black eyes, that flash on you a volley

Of rays, that say a thousand things at once,

To the high dama's brow, more melancholy.
*

They've pretty faces yet, these same Venetians,

Black eyes, arch'd brows, and sweet expressions

still,

Such as of old were copied from the Grecians,

In ancient

arts

by moderns mimick'd

ill."

Beppo.

BENEATH

the drawing

is

written,

apparently by

Lord Byron, with the chalk Harlowe had used

Marguerita Cogni,

Veneziana di nascita.
This drawing was done at the request of G. G. Byron,
L. B.

G. H. H.

"
to

Venice,

August

6, 1810.

wish you a good night," Byron writes in a

" with a Venetian

Moore,
benediction,

'

letter

Benedetto

MARGUERITA COGNI.
te, e

la terra che

fara

ti

'

!'

you be blessed, and

May

the earth which you will make!'

You would
I

think

it still

is

it

not pretty?

if you had heard

prettier

it,

as

did two hours ago, from the lips of a Venetian girl,

with large black eyes, a face like Faustina's, and the

tall and energetic as a Pythoness,
of a Juno
figure

with eyes flashing, and her dark hair streaming in

one of those women who may be made
the moonlight
I

any thing.

am

sure

if I

put a poniard into the hand

of this one, she would plunge

and

it

where

into me, if I offended her.

am

animal, and

Medea

to

any

sure that

woman

I told her,

like this

should have preferred

have forgiven the dagger or the bowl

my hearth,
*

around me.

gotten or forgiven

up

in

upon
come
* *

me

it ?

my household

Do you
It

yet.

and

till

when

is

stood

gods shivered

suppose

am

a tenfold opportunity

There are others more

it

but

have

for-

has comparatively swallowed

every other feeling, and

earth,

*,

with

could

any thing

the deliberate desolation piled upon me,

alone upon

You may,

that ever breathed.

that I don't in that case.

perhaps, wonder

kind of

on these that

my

to

only a spectator
offers.

It

may

be blamed than

eyes are fixed un-

ceasingly."
It

would certainly be

abouts, in the portrait,

gant character.

difficult to conjecture

lies

where-

any evidence of her terma-

Lavater himself would

fail

to

find

MARGUERITA COGNI.
any thing in the countenance which bespoke the virago
Lord Byron described her to have been. Of this he

was

sensible himself; for, in a letter to

he said

"

If

Venetian, you

you choose

may

with the character you

to

make

Mr. Murray,

a print from the

but she don't correspond at

mean

to represent."

The

all

print

alluded to was made, but never published.

In speaking of the Venetian women, Lord Byron,

" the
beauty for
which they were once so celebrated is no longer now
to be found among the
Dame,' or higher orders, but

in one of his letters, remarks, that

'

all

It
'

under the

'

or kerchiefs, of the

fazzioli,'

was, unluckily,

among

lower.

these latter specimens of the

bel sangue' of Venice that he now, by a suddenness

of descent in the scale of refinement, for which nothing

but the present wayward state of his

mind can

account,

chose to select the companions of his disengaged hours

and an

additional proof that, in this short,

daring

was but desperately seeking

a wronged and mortified .spirit, and

career of libertinism, he
relief for

What

'

is

that,

to us

seem'd guilt might be but woe,'

more than

once, of an evening,

when

his house

has been in the possession of such visitants, he has been

known

to

hurry away in his gondola, and pass the

greater part of the night

upon the water,

3P

as if hating to

MARGUERITA COGNI.
return to his home.

It

is,

indeed, certain, that to this

portion of his whole

he always
looked back, during the short remainder of it, with
and among the causes of the
painful self-reproach
least defensible

life,

detestation

which he afterwards

recollection of the excesses to

doned himself was not the

felt

for Venice, this

which he had there aban-

least

prominent.

" The most

distinguished and, at last, the reigning
favourite of all this unworthy harem was a woman

named Marguerita Cogni, who has been

already men-

tioned in one of these letters, and who, from the trade

was known by the

portrait of this handsome

of her husband,

rina.

Harlowe when

at Venice,

having

title

of the Forna-

virago,

drawn by

fallen into the

hands

of one of Lord Byron's friends after the death of that

the noble poet, on being applied to for some par-

artist,

on the sub-

ticulars of his heroine, wrote a long letter

from which the following are extracts

ject,

"

'

Since you desire the story of Marguerita Cogni,

shall be told

you

"
time

'

Her

face

it,

is

though

may

be lengthy.

the fine Venetian cast of the old

and taken altogether

fine

"

it

her figure, though perhaps too

'

In the

summer

tall, is

not less

in the national dress.

of 1817,

**** and
myself were

sauntering on horseback along the Brenta one evening,

when, amongst a group of peasants, we remarked two

About
girls as the prettiest we had seen for some time.

MARGUERITA COGNI.
had been great distress in the country,
had a little relieved some of the people. Gene-

this period there

and

makes a great figure at very little cost in Venelivres, and mine had prohably been exaggerated as

rosity

tian

an Englishman's.
at

to

them

me

or no, I

Whether they remarked us looking

know not but one of them called out
;

'

in Venetian,

Why

others, think of us also?'

'

Cara, tu

her,

sei

bisogna

del' soccorso

saw

hut and

my

my

turned round and answered

troppo bella e giovane per aver'

She answered,

mio.'
food,

this passed half jestingly,

some
"

do not you, who relieve

'

If

you
All
would
not
so.'
say
you
and I saw no more of her for

days.
'

A few evenings

after,

we met with these two

again, and they addressed us more

girls

seriously, assuring

They were cousins

single. As I doubted still

us of the truth of their statement.

Marguerita married, the other

of the circumstances, I took the business in a different

and made an appointment with them for the next

In short, in a few evenings we arranged our
evening.

light,

was the only

one who preserved over me an ascendency which was
often disputed, and never impaired.
" ' The reasons of this
her

affairs,

and

for a long space of time she

were,

firstly,

person;

the Venetian face, very fine black eyes.

She was two-and- twenty years old, * * *.
She was,

very dark,

besides,

tall,

a thorough Venetian in her dialect, in her

MARGUERITA COGNI.
thoughts, in her countenance, in every thing, with

all

their naivete, and pantaloon humour.

Besides, she
could neither read nor write, and could not plague me

with

except twice that she paid sixpence to a

letters,

public scribe, under the piazza, to

make a

upon some occasion when

ill

prepotente,' that

whenever

see

suited her, with

it

"

lowed

walk

in

no very great regard

to

and

she found any

* * *

if

women

way, she knocked them down.

in her
'

When

came

to

Venice

for the winter, she fol-

and as she found herself out

me

she came to

to

be a favourite,

But she had inordinate

pretty often.

and was not tolerant of other women.

self-love,

Cavalchina,' the

where

carnival,

the

and could not

overbearing, and used to

is,

time, place, nor persons

'

was

In other respects, she was somewhat fierce and

her.
'

letter for her,

mask

of

and decent

masked

all

ball

on the

last

At the

night of the

the world goes, she snatched off

Madame

Contarini, a lady noble by birth,

in conduct, for

no other reason, but because

she happened to be leaning on

suppose what a cursed

noise this

my

made

arm.
;

You may

but this

is

only

one of her pranks.

"

'

At

last

she quarrelled with her husband, and one

evening ran away to

not do

back

to

my

house.

she said she would

him

lie

I told

her this would

in the street, but not

that he beat her (the gentle

go

tigress !)',

spent her money, and scandalously neglected her.

As

MARGUERITA COGNI.
it was midnight, I let her
stay, and next day there was
no moving her at all. Her husband came, roaring and
not she
crying, and entreating her to come back
:

He
I

then applied to the police, and they applied to

them and her husband

told

want her
of the

window

her

to take

she had come, and

did not

could not fling her out

She went before the

it.

commissary, but was obliged to return with that

she called the poor man,

who had

In a few days she ran away again.

piece of work, she fixed herself in
truly without

but they might conduct her through

that or the door if they chose

ettico,' as

me

consent

my

and not being able

to

my

my

keep

becco

a phthisic.

After a precious
house, really and

but owing to

'

my

indolence,

countenance, for

if I

began in a rage, she always finished by making me

laugh with some Venetian pantaloonery or another
;

and the gipsy knew

this well

enough,

as well as her

other powers of persuasion, and exerted

them with the

usual tact and success of

high and low,

they are

"

'

she-things

all alike for that.

Madame

tection,

all

Benzoni also took her under her proShe was always in

and then her head turned.

extremes, either crying or laughing, and so fierce

angered, that she was the terror of men,

children

for she

the temper of

when

women, and

had the strength of an Amazon, with

She was a fine animal, but

Medea.

quite untameable.

/ was

the only person that could

3o

MARGUERITA COGNI.
at

keep her

all

any order, and when she saw

in

me

really angry (which they tell

she subsided.

beautiful

and

prevent
I

but, alas

lower orders, she looked

this travestie.

said

much)

put the

first

into the fire

but

got tired of burning them before she did of buying

not

become

at all

"

1'

Then she would have her gowns with a

'

as her cursed pro-

made me

laugh, there was an

tail after

her every where.

"

mean

In the

my

stopped

the Venetian for

controversy, and she dragged

all

'

is

and

la cola,' the tail or train,)

nunciation of the word

letters.

She used

over one.

this diabolical

time, she beat the

I

tail

nothing would serve her but

abita colla coua,' or cua, (that

end of

for they did

her.

like a lady, forsooth

'

could not

them, so that she made herself a figure

'

In

fooleries.

she longed for a hat and feathers

could say or do (and

all I

a savage sight),

is

But she had a thousand

fazziolo, the dress of the

her

me

women, and

found her one day pondering

to try to find out

whether they were feminine or no

by their shape
and she used to

lament her ignorance, and actually studied her alphabet,

on purpose (as she declared)
dressed to

"

'

me and

open

all

letters

ad-

read their contents.

must not omit

ing qualities.

to

After she

to

do

came

di governo,' the expenses

justice to her housekeepinto

my

house as

were reduced

'

donna

to less

than

MARGUERITA COGNI.
and every body did their duty better the apartments were kept in order, and every thing and every
half,

body
"

else,

wild way,
tion one.

with

my

squall,

boat

except herself.

That she had a

'

sufficient

had many reasons

regard for

in

I will

to believe.

her

men-

In the autumn, one day, going to the Lido

we were overtaken by a heavy

gondoliers,

and the gondola put in

filling,

oar

torrents, night

peril

tumbling

lost,

hats blown away,

thunder, rain in

sea,

coming, and wind unceasing.

return, after a tight struggle, I found her

steps

me

of the Mocenigo palace, on the

On

our

on the open

Grand Canal,

with her great black eyes flashing through her tears,

and the long dark hair, which was streaming, drenched
with rain, over her brows and breast.

She was per-

and the wind blowing her

hair and dress about her thin tall figure, and the

fectly

exposed to the storm

lightning flashing round her, and the waves rolling at

her

feet,

chariot,

made her look

like

Medea

alighted from her

or the Sibyl of the tempest that

was

rolling

around her, the only living thing within hail at that

moment

except ourselves.

On

seeing

me

safe,

she did

not wait to greet me, as might have been expected, but

calling out to

me

il

tempo per andar'

is

this

'

Ah!

al'

can' della

Madonne, xe

esto

Lido?' (Ah! dog of the Virgin,

a time to go to Lido

?),

ran into the house, and

solaced herself with scolding the boatmen for not fore-

MARGUERITA COGNI.
seeing the

'

temporale.'

am

by the servants that

told

she had only been prevented from coming in a boat to

look after me, by the refusal of

all

the gondoliers of the

canal to put out into the harbour in such a

and that then she

sat

thickest of the squall,

down on

the steps in all the

and would neither be removed

Her joy

nor comforted.

moment

me

at seeing

derately mixed with ferocity, and gave

again was mo-

me

the idea of

a tigress over her recovered cubs.

"

But her reign drew near a close. She became

quite ungovernable some months after, and a concurrence of complaints, some true, and many false
'

'

a favourite has no friends'

with her.

home

(she

determined

told her quietly that

had acquired a

and mother, &c.

in

my

me

to part

she must return

sufficient provision for herself

service),

and she refused

to quit

was

firm, and she went threatening

knives and revenge. I told her that I had seen knives
drawn before her time, and that if she chose to begin,

the

house.

there

was a

table,

knife,

and fork

also, at

her service on the

and that intimidation would not do.

day, while

was

at dinner,

The next

she walked in (having

broken open a glass door that led from the hall below
to the

straight

staircase,

up

by way of prologue), and advancing

to the table, snatched the knife

hand, cutting

me

slightly in the

Whether she meant

thumb

from

my

in the operation.

to use this against herself or

me,

MARGUERITA COGNI.
I

know

not

but Fletcher

probably against neither

I then
by the arms, and disarmed her.
boatmen, and desired them to get the gondola

seized her

called

my

ready, and conduct her to her

own house

carefully that she did herself

no mischief by the way.

She seemed quite

quiet,

resumed my dinner.
" We heard a
'

them on the

and walked down

staircase, carrying

her up

destroy herself, I do not believe

women and men who

stairs.

great noise, and went out, and

met

She had

stairs.

That she intended

thrown herself into the canal.

the fear

again, seeing

we

but when

can't

to

consider

swim have

of deep

or even of shallow water, (and the Venetians in parti-

though they

cular,

also night,

had a

on the waves,) and that

live

and dark, and very cold,

some

devilish spirit of

it

it

was

shews that she

sort within her.

They

had got her out without much difficulty or damage,

excepting the salt water she had swallowed, and the
wetting she had undergone.

"
for

'

foresaw her intention to refix herself, and sent

how many hours

a surgeon, inquiring

quire to restore her from her agitation

the time.
if

then said,

'

would

it

re-

and be named

and more

give you that time,

you require it; but at the expiration of this prescribed

period, if she does not leave the house,

"

'

All

my

/ will.'

people were consternated.

always been frightened at her, and were

3n

They had

now

para-

MARGUER1TA COGNI.
lysed

they wanted

me

to apply to the police, to

guard

myself, &c. &c., like a pack of snivelling servile boobies

as they were.

did nothing of the kind, thinking that

might as well end that way as another besides, I had

been used to savage women, and knew their ways.
" I
to mention that she was
I

'

very devout,

forgot

and would

cross herself if she heard the prayer-time

strike.

"

'

had her

and never saw her

sent

home

quietly after her recovery,

since, except twice at the opera, at a

amongst the audience. She made many attempts

And this is the
return, but no more violent ones.

distance,
to

story of Marguerita Cogni, as far as

it

relates to me.'

"

Moore's Life of Byron.

VERONA.
Drown

"

by

W,

have been over Verona.

R.A.

Calcott,

The Amphitheatre

is

wonder-

beats even Greece."

ful

Letter to Moore, " Life of Byron."

" THERE

is,

perhaps, no other city in northern Italy

which, upon the whole, unites so

ing in

much

its situation, its antiquities,

associated with

it,

as Verona.

and the

The

tullus, of Vitruvius, of Cornelius

naturalist, of

while our

is

interest-

recollections

birth-place of Ca-

Nepos, of Pliny the

Paul Veronese, of Scaliger, of Mafiei, of

Pindemonte, and other

modern days,

that

illustrious

men

of ancient and

possesses a strong historic interest

it

own Shakespeare has peopled

it

with ima-

ginary beings, not less palpably defined to the fancy

than the shades of the historic dead.

It is

thus

felt,

by an Englishman, to be at once classic and

nor does the tomb of Pepin, nor
romantic ground
at least

llierj
waken a stronger interest
even the arch of Gallienus,

mW of
than the supposed tomly

Juliet.

Evelyn was highly

VERONA.
delighted with Verona

deserves

all

honoured

it.

the
'

delightful I ever

and, in his opinion, the city

with which

eulogies

The

situation,'

saw

he

says,

so sweetly

it is

Scaliger
'

is

has

the most

mixed with

rising

ground and valleys, so elegantly planted with trees, on

which Bacchus seems riding, as it were, in triumph
every autumn, for the vines reach from tree to tree.
places that I have seen in Italy, would
"
residence.'
Conder's Italy.

Here, of

my

To

all

the above

list

I fix

of distinguished Veronesi are to be

added the emperors Vespasian, Titus, and Domitian

and it is believed, that during the reign of the latter,
;

about the end of the

Verona was

century, the Amphitheatre of

first

The

erected.

are so well preserved, that

ruins of this fine structure

it

supplies the deficiencies of

the Colosseum and the Amphitheatre at Nismes, and

enables the architect and antiquarian perfectly to understand the structure of buildings of this class.

It is,

with the exception of the former, the largest amphitheatre of

now

which the dimensions can be traced

remains,

as

it

capable of holding twenty-three thou-

it is

sand persons on forty-three

From

round the arena.

tiers

of seats, which sur-

the upper seats, this space,

though an oval of two hundred and eighteen feet by

one hundred and twenty-nine, appears much less than
it

up

really measures.
in the arena,

modern theatre has been

and the

seats facing the

fitted

proscenium

VERONA.
have been barricaded

Here, occasionally, there are

off.

a practice introduced by

dramatic pieces performed,

when they were at Verona, repaired

As early as the thirteenth

the French, who,

and cleared out the arena.

its

century

when

attention,

combats

preservation had become an object of public

and

was used

it

When the Emperor Joseph

Verona, a bull-fight was, in honour of the event,

given in the Amphitheatre

sion,

body

it

were decreed

in the fifteenth, penalties

against wilful dilapidations.

visited

a place of judicial

as

and, upon another occa-

was made the scene of prostration

of an immense concourse assembled

mind and
to

meet the

Pope, who, on his passage through Verona, received

there the

homage

of the multitude.

The Veronesi accuse the French,

as

modern Huns

or Lombards, of having built the wooden theatre in the

arena, where

its

nerated to farces
to

gladiatorial glories

and pantomimes

have been dege-

but there

is

nothing

regret in this change, since these exhibitions

infinitely less

savage and more amusing.

are

In 1822, the

author saw a comedy of Goldoni's performed there.

The approach

to the

miserable old clothes shop

Amphitheatre is through a
and other external parts of

the building are appropriated as shops for shoemakers

and cabinet-makers.

mens were

In one of these, geological speci-

and among them, the

offered for sale,

and plants found embedded

in the shale of

3i

fish

Monte Bolca

VERONA.
a mountain about fifteen miles from Verona, celebrated

among

naturalists for

and variety of its

fossil

its

richness in the quantity

productions.

Roman

Besides the amphitheatre, there are other

antiquities, but not of

much

interest.

Of

the remains

of the middle ages, the tomb of Pepin, the father of

Charlemagne,

most

is

pointed out to travellers

strikingly picturesque objects in

but the

Verona are the

tombs of the Scaligers, sovereign princes of Verona,

which stand

in a small enclosure in one of the public

They have in part been made known

England by Mr. Prout's drawings. They are six

streets.

in
in

number, though only three are very remarkable for

their Gothic architecture.

All are distinguished by the

armorial bearings of the family

ladder.

Forsyth says:

the eagle and scaling

"The tombs

of the Scaliger

of the most elegant Gothic

princes are models

light,

in their fretted niches

open, spiry, full of statues caged
yet,

slender as they seem, these tombs have

entire for five

hundred years,

frequent theatre of sedition."

in a public street,

But they

not " models of the most elegant Gothic

stood

the

certainly are
;"

or if they

are, our beautiful Gothic crosses are not to be judged

by the same principles of architecture or taste. Their

structure gives no promise of their durability, and the

ornaments and arrangements are as

are exuberant.

fantastical as they

VERONA.
There

is

one object of particular interest, which

English travellers

visit,

and wish

to

be true

the

all

tomb

Lord Byron, in a letter to Moore, dated

" Of the truth of Juliet's
writes

of Juliet.

Verona,

story they

seem tenacious

to

a degree, insisting on the

fact,

giving

It is a plain,
a date (1303), and shewing a tomb.
open, and partly decayed sarcophagus, with withered

and desolate conventual garden,

once a cemetery, now ruined to the very graves. The

leaves in

in a wild

it,

situation struck

me

as very appropriate to the legend,

being blighted as their love.

have brought away a

give to my daughter and
I

few pieces of the granite to

" Since
nieces." He adds

my

my arrival at Venice,

the

lady of the Austrian ambassador told me, that between

Verona and Vicenza there are

still

ruins of the castle of

Montecchi, and a chapel once belonging to the Capulets.

Romeo seems

The sarcophagus has been used

a water-trough, and a hole has been made in it for

founded on a
as

have been of Vicenza by the tradition

was a good deal surprised to find so firm a faith

Bandello's novel, which seems really to have been

but
in

to

the plug.

been

left,

fact."

Within the hollow

at

one end a ledge has

evidently as a resting-place for the head of

the cold occupant.

This form removes any doubt that

it

was made

is

a reddish compact limestone.

as a tenement for the dead.

of the visitors

is

now checked by

The

The material

dilapidating rage

order of the Austrian

VERONA.
government
shews

it,

and the

who

integrity of the old custoda

She always
"
them the history of the
famous lovers,"

has a higher price than formerly.

relates to

and her

tale

agrees

with Shakespeare's.

Here,

in

Verona, we

feel at home.
The city has heen peopled
"
"
of our country, with beings,
master-spirit
by the
if
had
no
existence
but from his imaginawhich,
they

tion,

Here Shakespeare laid some of his

and the visitors who have fancy, can restore

can never

scenes

die.

to its streets the brawlers of the rival families of the

Capelli and

we

associate

and confiding

Romeo and

Juliet

one so

so fearless in her first

become a
this

and only

love, that she

of semblant death,

state

happiness on earth

her heart was

the society of

devoted.

This

is

Englishman's feelings at Verona

deep interest
country.

is

for

are

with

Mercutio, and the gentle

young, so beautiful, and

him
the

dared

and through

living inhabitant of the tomb,

murky

names

the Anglicised

Capulets and the Montagues

the

better

these

Montecchi

seek her only

to

whom

source

alone
of an

that her tale

of

immortalised in the language of his

BELLAGIO,
LAKE OF COMO.
Drawn

"

have seen the

by

H. Gasteneau.

finest parts of

Switzerland

the Rhine,

the Rhone, and the Swiss and Italian lakes

for the

beauties of which I refer you to the Guide-Book."

"
Letter to Moore,
Life of Byron."

THE
rendered

beautiful scenery of the

it,

Lake of Como has

to travellers in pursuit of the picturesque,

one of the most attractive of the northern lakes of

Italy.

banks and headlands, commanding the

most delicious views, are in their turn objects which
Villas

on

its

to the deep-shored character

give a sparkling brilliancy

of this lake, far

more than

that of any other which

skirted by the Lepontine, or Rhetian Alps.

on the Lago Maggiore are more extensive

is

The views
;

but the

Lago di Como are the abrupt bases of

mountains, which rise from its waters richly clothed in
shores of the

forests of

walnut and chestnut- trees.

spots of table-land

upon which

its villas,

cottages rest, are gardens, orchards,

SK

Surrounding the
villages,

and

and olive-grounds.

BELLAGIO.

At every
lake

successive point

offers,

which the

sinuosity of the

scenes of exceeding richness are presented,

where the summits of the

especially in situations

mountains which bound the lake on the

Alps are seen, some of them rising
seven or eight thousand

The Comasques,
called,

boys
in

emigrate

feet.

from their beautiful country when

after

many
and

world, of privation

the

to the height of

as the borderers of the lake are

and a few, who,

lofty

side of the

years of struggle

difficulty,

have

re-

by prudence and economy a little fortune, return

spend the winter of their life amidst the scenes of their

alised
to

childhood. England, France, and America are the coun-

which they emigrate. They are the itinerant venders of plaster casts, looking-glasses, and barometers.
"
of Caddenabia,
with us," said the

tries to

innkeeper

Stay

little

village opposite Bellagio, one

himself a barometer-maker in London

(Sunday), and you will see

down from

the villages to

many

my

who had been

"

Stay

rich old

till

festa

men come

house, for the chance of

seeing English travellers, and the pleasure of talking of

England." The extensive emia few old men

gration of the Comasques, leaving only
numerous
children
too young
and
who have returned,
their former residence in

to

go

forth, gives a peculiar character to the population,

which

remarked

you," he said

to

"we

our innkeeper.

"

have plenty of young

understand

priests."

THE SIMPLON,
VILLAGE.

Drawn

" The
Simplon

is

by

H, Gasteneau.

magnificent in

its

nature and

to
God and man have done wonders
have
had
must
the devil, who certainly

Both

its art.

say nothing of

hand

(or

hoof) in some of the rocks and ravines, through some of

which the works are carried."

Letter to

THE
is

Mr. Murray, " Life of Byron."

of this view,
village of Simplon, the subject

situated in the

immediate neighbourhood of some

grand Alpine scenery, particularly the glaciers of the

The mountains which appear over the
Rosboden.
village

are

those

bound the

southern

deep ravine of the Dovedro, into which

side

of the

the

road descends

Simplon.

whose bases

The

at

village

is

short

distance

only from

most conveniently

situated,

nearly dividing the distance between Brigg and

d' Ossola.

At one time the hostess of the inn there

bad a name among the English

had

so

and

violence, that she

those

Domo

who had

was the

suffered,

for extortion

subject of abuse from

or those

who extended

her

THE SIMPLON.
bad name from report; and the walls and windows
of the inns from

Geneva

Milan were scrawled with

to

doggerel cautions to avoid her house.

deserved

having

let

it,

left

the following story

Domo d'

How

she

far

The author,

tell.

Ossola for Brigg too late in the day

beyond the village of Simplon that night,

entered the inn with no very great expectation of good

to proceed

The landlady, rather a bluff personmet him, and he was shewn into a comfortable

accommodation.
age,

She asked

chamber.

three, or four, or five

hungry and fatigued

from the Italian

ceteras,

were served.

me

a good dinner."

civility

who had been

The
rest,

was

game, fine
good wine, and many et

side,

In the morning, he found four

bill.

He

records the

he received there, in justice to one

misrepresented.

situation of the village

and

very

It

trout, chicken,

francs only were charged in the

comfort and

at

said,

send

Delicious soup

excellent.
fruit

what price he would dine

" I am
He
francs ?

at

is

for the aid of travellers

most favourable

who have been

for

over-

taken by storms, and exposed to their terrors and

dangers.

story

is

related of the situation of a party

under General Turreau, when engaged in the

survey of
the line of road.
He was on his return, with some of
his officers,

from Brigg

d' Ossola, the

snow

to his head-quarters at

fell

Domo

abundantly, and violent and

freezing gusts from the north-west raised the snow

in

THE SIMPLON.
whirlwinds, and so

suffocate the travellers.

spite of the aid

to

it

fell

three times, in

At

who had been hired to assist them,

be absolutely necessary that they should

way back

find their

The general

he received from those about him.

length some peasants,

declared

the atmosphere as almost to

filled

to Brigg, rather

than attempt to

feet

But two of the engineers, who were a few

only in advance, could not, in the storm and obscu-

rity,

be made acquainted with the order for return. They

proceed.

soon afterwards found that the rest of the party were not

and having waited a short time, they became

alarmed, and felt that their only chance of safety was

following

to proceed.

Fortunately two peasants were with them,

or they must inevitably have perished.

struggle,

they had the good fortune

After six hours'

to arrive in safety,

though dreadfully exhausted, at the village of Simplon,

a distance of not more than two leagues from where
they had parted from their companions.
to

which they were exposed was

so

The snow

hard,

and

in

such fine grains, having no adherence to each other,

that

when

which was very often,

and their situation was only dis-

the travellers

fell,

they disappeared in

it,

tinguished by the

movement communicated

struggles to the surface,

by

their companions.

whence they were

On

in their

extricated

arriving at the village of

Simplon, they found that the snow had, like fine dust,
insinuated itself into every interstice of their clothes,

3L

THE SIMPLON.
and, coming in contact with their body, had at

first

partly melted, and then frozen again with the increased

cold of the night, which overtook

them

before their

arrival, so that the

masses were taken from them like

from a mould.

Yet, in their sufferings, they were

casts

insensible of this

The

till

the end of their perilous journey.

early history of the pass of the Simplon

is

in-

much

obscurity, and nothing certain is known

even of the origin of its name.
Its future importance

volved in

will be referred to

Napoleon only, under whose orders

the present road was constructed.

The new route of the Simplon was, in its intention

and execution, a military work. It was determined
upon immediately

after the battle of

Marengo, whilst

the difficulties of the passage of the Great St. Bernard,

and the almost

fatal

check of Fort Bard were fresh in

the recollection of Napoleon.

It

was executed between

1800 and 1807, under the direction of M. Ceard, the

engineer-in-chief of the department of

Leman, by whom

the route was carried on and completed.

hibits

It

now

ex-

one of the most extraordinary and daring achieve-

ments of man.

CHAMOUNI.
Drawn

"

Mont Blanc

On

W.

by J. D. Harding , from a Sketch by

is

the

Page.

monarch of mountains

They crown'd him long ago

a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,

With a diadem of snow.

Around

his waist are forests braced,

The avalanche
But

ere

it fall,

Must pause
The

hand

for

my command.
and

its

mass

restless

Moves onward day by day

I am he who bids it pass,

Or with

that thundering ball

Glacier's cold

But

in his

ice delay."

Manfred.
" Chamouni, and that which

it

but though Mont Blanc

inherits,
is

we saw a month ago

higher,

it

is

not equal in

wildness to the Jungfrau."

Moore's Life of Byron.

LORD BYRON'S

excursion in Savoy and Switzerland

with Mr. Hobhouse, gave him access to scenery, and

stored his

mind with impressions from

these grand and

CHAMOUNI.
mighty sources of the sublime, that burst from him,
with

all

the splendour and glory with which his genius

could enrich them, in his " Manfred," and in the third

canto of " Childe Harold."

" Above us are the

Alps
The palaces of Nature, whose vast walls

Have pinnacled

in clouds their

snowy

scalps,

And throned Eternity in icy halls

Of cold sublimity, where forms and

falls

The avalanche

snow

the thunderbolt of

All that expands the spirit, yet appals,

Gather around these summits, as to show

How Earth may pierce

to

Heaven, yet leave vain man below !"

Chamouni, from the immense number of its English

visitors,

appears to be a goal the next in ton,

Tooley-street travellers, to Paris

and

among

at Victor Tairrez's

excellent inn, the Hotel de Londres, at

Chamouni,

it is

common question, upon hearing so distinctly the sound

of Bow bells in half the words uttered
what can

have brought these people here ? N'importe,

they are
and
it
is
a
there;
peculiar characteristic of the English, that in the

names of

travellers, nine out of ten of

Mr. Smith
or French

books kept for the insertion of the

or

Mr. Brown

whilst the

them are plain

German,

Italian,

names generally have the addition of Graf,

Marchese, or Comte.

CHAMOUNI.
Lord Byron was struck with an exclamation of one
" I remember
of the
in his
when he
Smiths,

at

Chamouni,

woman exclaim

see

journal,

says

as if

pines, torrents, glaciers, clouds,

above them

and

'

!'

Did you ever

'

was Highgate, or
quotha,

rocks,

and summits of eternal

rural

quite fair to relate, that even

party, his

it

Rural

'

Hampstead, or Brompton.

far

Blanc, hearing

in English to her party,

any thing more rural?'

snow

Mont

in the very eyes of

'

'

But

in

faithful valet Fletcher,

will be

it

Lord Byron's own

one who had had

twenty years of observation with him amidst the scenes

and among the objects whence his master drew his in-

view them with a very

learnt to
spirations, yet never
refined emotion

for

one day, in the Acropolis, when

accompanying Lord Byron, who was observing attenof the Parthenon, he said, " La
tively the metopes
!

"

what mantel-pieces they would make, my Lord

But the great concourse of visitors to Chamouni
!

may

be accounted for by the

travelling are

little

now

and

more time

point

the facilities of

so great, that with the sacrifice of

accommodations are
the

fact, that

it

of easy

is

as

good

arrived

at,

as

attainment

those

in

Chamouni

is

immediate proximity with the

loftiest

the

England
not

the nearest to the great chain of the Alps, but

in

only
it

is

of the range

and no spot affords, within the accomplishment of a

which will
day's ramble, any excursions
3

conduct to

CHAMOUNI.
scenes

more grand, or

beautiful,

those around Charaouni.

or interesting, than

The French

Lyons or by Dole, conduct to

Geneva

diligences,

in four days

by
and

now, by the improvements of the mountain -road to

Chamouni, the journey from Geneva is made, in a light
carriage, in a day.
all

good

There are three inns in the

the Hotel de Londres excellent.

English comfort

may

be had, and

all

village,

Here every

the regulations

mules and guides are so made, as to

insure the greatest civility and attention, at such fixed
for the hire of

charges that
spirits

all

and good health which are

mountain

air,

Then the high

drawn in with the

disputes are avoided.

the excitement of adventure, and sound

sleep after fatigue, leave the visitor to

Chamouni im-

pressed with the conviction, that the recollections of

his visit there are

memory.

among

the most delightful in his

CASTLE OF CHILLON.
Drawn

by J.

D. Harding, from a Sketch

" Lake Leman

lies

by

by

Chillon's walls

W.

Page.

thousand feet in depth below

massy waters meet and flow ;

Thus much the fathom-line was sent
Its

From

Chillon's

snow r white battlement

Which round about

the wave enthrals

double dungeon wall and wave

Have made and like a living grave."

Prisoner of Chilian.

"

Went to Chillon, through scenery worthy

whom went over the Castle of Chillon."
;

as far as Chillon to revisit the

behind

it.

Mem. The

of Chillon was
great a

man

as

little

corporal

of

know not

torrent from the hill

who shewed

drunk as Blucher, and

he was deaf also,

" Went
again

the wonders

mind) as
and thinking every one
(to

my

else so, roared out the legends of the castle so fearfully

that I got out of humour.

However, we saw things from

the gallows to the dungeons (thepotence and the cachots),

and returned

to Clarens with

more freedom than belonged

to the fifteenth century."

Extract from Lord Byron's Journal.

CASTLE OF CHILLON.
" THE Chateau of
Chillon," says Lord Byron, in a
" is situated between Clarens and
note,
Villeneuve,

which
on

last is at

its left

one extremity of the Lake of Geneva

are the heights of Meillerie,

above Boveret and

is

are the entrances of the Rhone, and opposite

a torrent

St.

below

Gingo.

it,

and the range of Alps

Near it, on a hill behind,

washing

its

walls, the lake has

been fathomed to the depth of eight hundred

(French measure)

within

it

feet

are a range of dungeons,

which the early reformers, and subsequently prisoners

of state, were confined.
Across one of the vaults is a
in

beam, black with age, on which we were informed

condemned were formerly executed. In the

that the

seven pillars, or rather eight, one

being halfmerged in the wall ; in some of these are rings for the
cells are

fetters

and the

fettered

Bonnivard have

in the pavement, the

steps of

left their traces

he was confined here

several years."

" Journal of a Tour in

Switzerland,"
and
amusing
peculiar way, a sketch of

Simond, in
gives,

in his

Chillon.

"
dull,

He

his

says

Chillon, a mile and half beyond Clarens,

castle, built

on a

flat

is

rock into the water,

heavy
and almost touching the shore, with which a short
wooden bridge, or platform, connects it.
It is
gar-

risoned by a few lazy soldiers, one of

whom,

acting as

cicerone, led us to the celebrated dungeon, said to be

CASTLE OF CHILLON.
under the

level of the

Comparing the

level of the lake.

loop-hole grates, where captives weep, above the water's

edge from the outside, and above the rocky

I

remained

former

satisfied the latter

I

would

observed a hollow place

come from the

of water, which must

full

above the floor of the dungeon

rise

was lower than the

to

when

particularly

floor inside,

was something above the

level of the lake.

contradict poets,

or picturesque

lake,

if it really

me

It grieves

and sentimental

travellers; but really the

dungeon of Chillon

under water; and, besides,

is

sort of

and

not

is

absolutely a comfortable

or
dungeon enough,
feet
and
fifteen
feet
with
several
wide,
high,
twenty
narrow slits into the thick wall above reach, but adfull forty feet long, fifteen

mitting air and light, and even some rays of the sun.

row of

stone pillars divides

iron ring

is

marked by
vard was
tradition
floor

of

tradition as the place

chained for six long

points

out the

by his walking

them

it

is

one of them an

to

fastened, and looks much rubbed

to

to

it

is

where poor Bonniyears

yet another

track worn into the rocky

and

be believed,

fro all that

I

time

do not know.*

which

Many

* Simond's tenderness to
poets will win no credit for him here,
" Prisoner of Chillon" these accounts
for the error is his own. In the
are not contradictory.
says,

"

In the early part of Bonnivard's

They chained us each

We could not move a

SN

to a

column

stone,

single pace."

captivity,

he

CASTLE OF CHILLON.
travellers, mostly English,

on

this

among them

and

pillar,

have engraved their names

Lord

is

Byron's

conspicuous.

Another dungeon, not more than ten

feet square,

opens into the large one, by a breach in

made by

the wall

a prisoner,

who attempted making

his escape, but could not get farther than the outer

was retaken, and ultimately put to death

He must have been a
a long confinement

dungeon
here, after

man

of education, judging from his drawings on the

wall,

much

These are

in the style of Raphael's age.

horrors for poets, which may, I trust,

those of which

have attempted

make up

to deprive

them.

for

One

whiskered cicerone could not give us any more particulars about the tragical

he was, nor

end of the prisoner, nor say who

name

tell his

but

when we

the time, he boldly said, Monsieur,

Another

who

soldier,

il

inquired about

y a

mille cms

held the candle, observing our

look of incredulity, corrected his companion, and said,

Ha!

que non: II y a cinq cent ans!

story

is

poets
But

it

therefore the

not quite clear yet for historians, although for

may

after the

On

do.

the wall outside the chateau,

death of his brothers,

"

A kind of change came o'er my fate,

My keeper grew compassionate.
My broken chain
With

And

links unfastened did remain,

it

Along

was

my

liberty to stride

cell

from side

to side."

CASTLE OF CHILLON.
towards the lake, the words Liberia

et

Patrie were

inscribed in gigantic letters, with the date 1815, instead

which were there before the Revo-

of the Bernese arms,

Somehow,

lution.

always suspect, where liberty and

country are thus ostentatiously thrust forward, that there

is

very

little

of the one, and that the other

derable danger

yet

believe

it

Canton de Vaud, and that the

in consi-

is

does not apply to the

inscription

is

only a

flourish, in imitation of the old revolutionary style of

France

at

any

rate, I

was sorry

to

see the style of

1793 in so recent an inscription."

These

enough

last conjectures of

Simond's are neither clear

for poets nor historians.

However

may have been

Liberte et Patrie

recently the

painted,

it

is

the

motto of the canton, and borne upon the shield of the

Pays de Vaud. Their liberty and country were both

derived from the French for the Pays de Vaud, after
;

Romans, formed part of the dependencies of the Burgundians and the Franks prior to
1273, when it was conquered by Duke Peter of Savoy,

its

possession by the

whose successors were dispossessed of

in 1536.

These governed

it

by their

it

by the Bernois

baillies until

1798,

when 50,000 Frenchmen, after a bloody fraternization,

gave them a separate existence under the name of the
Canton of Leman

Vaud was

but in 1803 their ancient

restored to

them

name

of

and they have ever since

retained their existence as a separate canton, with their

motto, Liberte et Patrie.

GENEVA.
Drawn

by J. D. Harding, from a Sketch by

" From Brussels the noble traveller

pursued

the riches of poesy

all

Page.

his course

along

a line of road which he has strewed over

the Rhine,

with

W.

and, arriving at Geneva,

took up his abode at the well-known hotel Secheron."

Moore's Life of Byron.

LORD BYRON, having

passed through the scenes

which inspired the third canto of " Childe Harold,"

reached Geneva in June 1816.

Alter visiting

all

the

places of interest around the lake, he set out on the

17th of September, with Mr. Hobhouse, for the Ober-

land Bernois.

This excursion stored his mind with

impressions which subsequently burst from

passages of unrivalled splendour which

him

in those

make his " Man-

fred" and fourth canto of " Childe Harold" so pre-

eminent.
is

preserved in a fragment of his journal kept during

his absence,
It

most interesting account of this excursion

and published

in

Moore's " Life of Byron."

concludes with the following melancholy passage:

" In the weather

for this tour (of thirteen days) I

3o

have

GENEVA.
been very fortunate

fortunate in

my

companion (Mr.
H.), fortunate in our prospects, and exempt from even
the little petty accidents and delays which often render
journeys in a

wild country disappointing.

less

disposed to be pleased.

admirer of beauty.
privation,

am

was

a lover of nature and an

can bear fatigue and welcome

and have seen some of the noblest views

But

the world.

in

the recollection of bitter-

in all this

and more especially of recent and more home

ness,

me

which must accompany

desolation,

have preyed upon

me

through

life,

here; and neither the music of

the shepherd, the crashing of the avalanche, nor the

torrent, the

mountain, the glacier, the

cloud, have

for

one

moment

heart, nor enabled

my

identity

me

to lose

around, above, and beneath me."

my own

wretched

After his return to

Geneva, he remained there until he

Italy

nor the

power, and the glory,

the

the majesty,

in

forest,

lightened the weight upon

left it finally for

on the 9th of October.

If,

in the

midst of the varied scenes of the Bernese

Alps, Lord Byron could not forget his heart's desolation,

it

at

he was not likely

Geneva

here.

beauty

The
;

to part

for there is little diversity in a residence

scenes around

and

eased," they

with his remembrance of

if

it

are

known

such could " minister

would

restore

it

to peace.

to

be of singular

to

a mind

dis-

Excursions on

the lake and to Chamouni, and the tour of Mont Blanc,

GENEVA.
are enjoyments accessible to the visitor at
if

too

much

Geneva

and

invalided for journeys which would occupy

two or three days, in excursions of a few hours, or even

an hour,

it

would take some time

of those around Geneva.

taken

is

is

spot

exhaust the novelty

whence the view

is

not half an hour's drive from the city, and few

travellers fail to visit

lake,

The

to

it.

Geneva, with a

little

of

its

seen in the distance, backed by the mountains

and immediately below lies the junction

of the Arve and the Rhone, where the white, turbid

of the Voirons

waters of the former, descending on the right from the

glaciers of

Mont

Blanc, unite slowly with the

" Blue waters of the

arrowy Rhone,"

and a long
a

common

streams.

line of separation

bed,

marks the

below their confluence in

reluctant mingling of their

S.A1D1T STSDIBE,

London. fubluh+I 1S32. bv

J.

Murrvlf.

i Sou

fc,

a Tftt, fle. flett

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

LADY NOEL BYRON.

From an

"

Original Miniature, by

WIFE would be the

W.

J. Newton.

me," says Lord

salvation of

Byron, in a journal kept by him in 1814; but he was

and

either so unprepared

ness of married

life,

unfit

enjoy the happi-

to

or so unfortunate in his choice,

that his nuptials were productive of

appointment and misery.

in

The

little

respect

beside dis-

and admiration

which he held the character and accomplishments

of Miss Millbanke he often recorded.

his journal

is

Anabella, which

"

One

Yesterday a very pretty

answered.

instance in
letter

What an odd

from

situation

and friendship is ours without one spark of love on

either side, and produced by circumstances which in
!

general lead to coldness on one side, and aversion on

the other.
little

She

spoiled,

twenty

is

which

a very superior woman, and very

is

a peeress, that

strange in an heiress
is

to be, in

her

own

a girl of

right

an

only child, and a savante, who has always had her own
She is a poetess
a metaa mathematician
way.
physician

and

yet,

with

all,

3p

very kind, generous, and

THE RIGHT HON. LADY NOEL BYRON.

gentle, with very little pretension.

Any

other head

would be turned with half of her acquirements, and a

tenth of her advantages."
in his journal,

up and marry.

he writes
I

desire of

to

many

may

it

am

mean

to pull

in tolerable love

be."

of Byron's friends to see

weaned, by an honourable

affection,

him

from the errant

which he had been long pursuing, led

thoughts seriously to mar" that
" as
is," says Moore,
seriously as his

course of

them

Moore: "

have been and

but of that hereafter as

The

Subsequently to this notice

life

to hail the turn of his

riage,

thoughts were ever capable of being turned.

It

was

by the advice and intervention of Lady Melbourne that he became a suitor for the hand of a
chiefly

relation of that lady, Miss Millbanke.

Though his
was
not
then
proposal
accepted, every assurance of
and
friendship
regard accompanied the refusal a wish
:

was even expressed that they should continue to write

to each other; and a
correspondence in consequence

somewhat singular between two young persons of different sexes, insomuch as love was not the
subject of it
ensued between them.

We

have seen how highly

Lord Byron estimated as well the virtues as the accomplishments of the young lady; but
neither side, at this period,
sessed."

And

it

may

it is

was love

evident that on

either felt or pos-

be added, that those

who regarded

the happiness of either,

deeply regretted that love

was

THE RIGHT HON. LADY NOEL BYRON.

ever again professed.

was accepted

Again, however, he offered, and

and the marriage took place on the 2d

of January following, at

ham, the

seat of Sir

Seaham,

in the
county of

Ralph Millbanke, the

Lord Byron appears

Dur-

lady's father.

have well remembered the

to

heartlessness of his feelings towards the

woman

he was

marrying, and upon whose happiness he had so coldly

speculated

for in

" The
Dream," written many years

a passage shewing a
melancholy picture
of his state of mind at the moment of that
after, there is

ceremony,

upon which

so

much

of their

happiness or misery

depended.
"

saw him stand

Before the altar, with a gentle bride

Her

face

The

starlight of his

was

fair,

boyhood."

year had scarcely passed away before these

fated parties separated.

time,

but was not that which made

who,

it

child

ill-

was born during that

might have been hoped, would, by the

tenderest ties of nature, have linked their

feelings with
an object of common interest, and created a
affec-

deep
even where nothing beyond a cold
profession of
appears to have previously existed ; but this claim,

tion,
it

so strong with others,

was weak

in their struggle with

disappointed happiness and wounded

pride.

Of

the

domestic differences of Lord and

Lady Byron, the world

knows

too

much

or too

little.

It

knows the

fact of

THE RIGHT HON. LADY NOEL BYRON.

their early separation, of

and again

reiterated, in poetry

rance of the cause

of

which Lord Byron has again

whilst

and

in prose, his igno-

comment upon Moore's biography

without naming

clares,

that

it,

in the letter

Lady Byron,

it

of her lord, de-

was

and

so strong

insurmountable, as to justify her resolution never to

him

see

again.

Mr. Moore's remarks upon

vol.

only go to shew, that that unfitness of temper,

iii.,

which

a source of domestic misery,

is

of those

who have

so little

is

the punishment

understood each other before

marriage; but "the cause"

They

this separation, p. 208,

the cause,

is

a mystery.

in good temper
parted, says Lord Byron,

What,

ness.

so fatal

and

then, could have occurred so sudden

Certainly not the bickerings of an ill-sorted

marriage

and kind-

" the

last

words of the parting wife

husband being those of the most playful affection

to the

whilst

the language of the deserted husband towards the wife,

was

in a strain, as the

eulogy."

world knows, of the tenderest

the separation, writes of her

after

Byron,

with the deepest feelings of respect.

Moore,
better,

he says " There never was a

or even a brighter, a kinder, or a more amiable
p. 204, vol.

iii.,

or agreeable being than

Lady B.

can have, any reproach to

Where

In a letter to

there

is

cannot redeem,

blame,
I

it

make

never had, nor

her, while with me.

belongs to myself; and

must bear

it."

Moore

says

if I

" At

THE RIGHT HON. LADY NOEL BYRON.

the time of their

parting,

there could have been no

very deep sense of injury on either side.

any

If there be

truth, however, in the

principle, that they

pardon who have done

<

never

the wrong,' Lord

Byron,

who

was

to the last
disposed to reconciliation, proved, so
far at least, his conscience to

have been unhaunted

by
any very disturbing consciousness of
Yet
aggression."
she parted from him with a
of
feeling

strong,

from a cause so

alternative was,
placing

resentment so

irresistible, that her declared

him

in a

madhouse, or parting

with him for ever.

What
life

the cause of
separation was,

have been the

affair of

would

in private

no one but the

angry and

divided parties.

author

is

Lord Byron's character,

however, as an
a part of his
and
united to its
country's fame,

by ties which can end only with its language and

as much of that which
sprung from his mind, and has
history

immortalised his
memory, evidently arose from his disappointment of married happiness, it cannot be said to
be no affair of the world's.
Lady Byron's conduct to
her lord, like that of the wife of Milton
or Socrates,

can never be separated from his

biography for notoriety is the price which every woman
pays who marries
a distinguished man
whatever she does to increase or
;

blight his happiness to

whom

she

is

rishably recorded as his reputation.

fore, will care

and trouble

itself

3Q

united,

is

as impe-

The world, thereabout them. The cause

THE RIGHT HON. LADY NOEL BYRON.

of this separation, which he has declared was to

him

unknown, was, she said, to her insuperable. These are

contradictions which leave the world to conjectures
which are not complimentary to either.
Lord Byron has shewn, in his
in the

humour

letters

and

his works,

of sulkiness, of anger, or of tenderness,

when he had lost every chance of that happiness

which " bearance and forbearance" might have secured
that

to

him, he learned

its

value too late, and

about with

bitterly its privation whilst bearing

broken

spirit.

sight of the

and

his last

He

felt

most

him a

appears never to have entirely lost

hope of reconciliation with Lady Byron

thought

whose names he then

faintly

were for those

his latest sigh

murmured

his wife

and

his child.

In praise of Lady Byron

let

it

be told, that the

retirement she has persevered in since the separation,

whether in grief or in anger, has been

silent.

Her

time has been affectionately devoted to the care and

education of her daughter; and
times recalls the

memory

it is

said that she some-

of her illustrious but

wayward

husband, with feelings softened by time and death to a

wounded pride would allow her

him when living, or her delicacy

tenderer tone than her

to

communicate

to

will permit her to blazon over his

grave.

ABA
(FKOM THE ORIGINAL M1NIATURF,

r of

i.

Jkblisbnl J,me 2JSS2.

MT

V J.Jfiu-mtf

lumse

and

ajid Imartl"

.it-id fa/ C. Tilt.

t6 Hat

Stortt

ADA.
Drawn

by F. Stone, from an Original Miniature.

" Is
thy face like thy mother's,

my fair child
ADA sole daughter of my house and heart ?*
When last I saw thy young blue eyes they smiled,
And then we parted, not as now we part,
!

But with a hope.

"

My daughter
My daughter
I

Albeit

My
And

with thy

name

this

with thy

name

thus

hear thee not,'

so wrapt in thee

To whom

see thee not,

Can be

song begun

much shall end

-but none

thou art the friend

the shadows of far years extend

my brow

thou never should'st behold,

voice shall with thy future visions blend,

reach into thy heart,

when mine

is

cold,

token and a tone even from thy father's mould.

" To aid
thy mind's development,

Thy dawn

of

little

joys,

Almost thy very growth,

to sit

to

watch

and see

to view thee catch

Knowledge of objects wonders yet to

To hold thee lightly on a gentle knee,

thee

* Some
years after, Lord Byron wrote upon a proof sheet of
" Marino
"
Faliero,"
Ada, all but the mouth, is the picture of her
and
I
am
of
it."
mother,
glad

ADA.

And
This,

Yet
I

"

on thy

print
it

soft

cheek a parent's

kiss,

should seem, was not reserved for

was

this

in

know not what

my
is

nature

as

me

something like to

there, yet

it is,

this.

Yet, though dull Hate as duty should be taught,

know that thou wilt love me ; though my name

Should be shut from thee, as a spell still fraught
and a broken claim *
With desolation,
I

'

the grave closed between us,

Though
I know that thou

My

attainment,

all

thou would'st love me,

" The child of

love,

And

would be
still

that

though born

nurtured in convulsion.

These were the elements,

As

me

same

though to drain
blood from out thy being were an aim,

And an
Still

wilt love

'twere the

more than

Of thy

sire

but thy

more tempered, and thy hope

Sweet be thy cradled slumbers

And from

the mountains where

Fain would

As, with a sigh,

life retain.

in bitterness,

and thine no

yet such are around thee,

Shall be

in vain,

less.

fire

far higher.

O'er the sea,

now

respire,

waft such blessing upon thee,

I

deem thou

might'st have been to

me !"

Childe Harold, canto

iii.

IN a letter to Moore, dated Jan. 5, 1816, Lord

" The little

Byron says
girl was born on the 10th of
December last. Her name is Augusta Ada."
This interesting child of an unhappy
marriage

now grown

to

womanhood, endowed with those

is

ener-

ADA.

which " mark the stock she sprung

from," and adorned with high attainments, but softened

gies of character

to that gentleness,

stant

and

which a careful education, and the con-

affectionate guardianship of her

mother, have induced.

She

is

tion in society this season, 1833, or, as

called,

" come out."

accomplished

expected to take
it is

her sta-

fashionably

Though tall and handsome in person,

and quiet and elegant in manners, she will find herself

an object of interest, beyond what it is possible for character or

accomplishments to create, as the daughter of the

most extraordinary

man

of our day, and the being with

whose happiness his brightest hopes inseparably existed.

She appears to have been almost the only living thing to
which Lord Byron was invariable in the direction of his

She was never mentioned by him but

terms which shew that his separation from her was

intense affection.
in

the chief bitterness of his

life.

Yet, except indirectly,

intelligence concerning her rarely reached him.

he

years after they parted,

any thing of Ada, the

It is to

name

my

Mycenae."

must have been studied

it

is

proud of the immortal

that she has been taught to look

side of her father's character,

give that affection to his

upon him

Four

have never heard

literally.

only on the bright

th^e

Electra of

be hoped, that she

distinction of her

was almost

says,

little

If this be true, the cruelty

cannot be taken

"

and

to

memory, the hope of which

only cheering ray that latterly shone

in his exile.

3R

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So ends Guide Hardd tis lat

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'*"**

THE PLAIN OP TROT.

THE GATE OF THE SETTS.

ly-

.'.-/in

JUarnii

^iil'iai.u-lf ,Vrtrt. JS.1 !

-m&

BINDING SECT.

APK 8

880

PLEASE

CARDS OR

DO NOT REMOVE

SLIPS

UNIVERSITY OF

NE
1720
F55
v.l
cop. 2

FROM

THIS POCKET

TORONTO LIBRARY

Brockedon, William
Finden's illustrations of
the life and works of Lord
Byron