The Sun.
London, England, 1836-10-12 00:00:00

LITERATUR E.

ADVEN7'URES OF A JOURNEY OVERLAND
TO INDIA.
BY MAJOR SKINNER, 31ST RECT.
2 Vols. London, Richard Bentley , 1836.

Major Skinner must be one of the liveliest, gayest,
and happiest men in the world. In these delightful
volumes we have a record of adventures such as no
thin-skinned mortal everpassed through, and lived to nar-
rate ; and yet we have not been able to discover a single
sentence penned in a snarling, discontented, or captious
spirit. Our worthy traveller's good humour, disposi-
tion to be pleased with whatever might happen, and
entire self-possession under the most trying circum-
stances, are constantly uppermost in the reader's mind
during the perusal of these volumes. This is not the
consequence of any artifice or peculiarity in the writer.
It is the result of the most extraordinary incidents being
narrated as if they were the merest common-place oc-
currences ; of dangers braved without a murmur ; and
of the most acute physical privations endured with an
indifference worthy of a stoic. There is no affectation
of any kind in these volumes. The style is neither
studied nor stilted, but flows on as gracefully and as
naturally as the gallant Major's narrative. In 1832
our traveller sailed from Marseilles for Alexandria,
whence he embarked for Coifa, on the coast of Pa-
lestine. His adventures with the " Bon Enfant,"
and the friars of the Convent of Mount Carmel, are
admirably told. He thence proceeded to Jerusalem ;
visited all the celebrated places in its vicinity ; went to
Damascus and, joining a caravan, crossed the desart
to Bagdad ; went to Hillah ; examined the ruins of
Nineveh, and the Tower of Babel ; embarked fer
Bussorah ; and thence proceeded to Calcutta. His suf-
ferings were extreme ; but he leaves the reader to infer
that he thought no more about them than if they were
matters of course. The following is his description of
the present state of the far-famed city of Bagdad :
" An Eastern city is, I have before observed, a mirage :
Bagdad belongs to poetry, and even its historical splendour
seems to have lived only in the fancies of those who related it.
It is not easy to believe, in winding through the narrow dirty
streets, with gloomy unplastered brick houses of all forms and
heights—low unwholesome-looking passages of shops, beg-
gars and porters, stopping up the way—asses laden with water-
skins dropping their contents as they move over the feet of
the passengers—camels whose bales bulging out to the walls
on each side, threaten to squeeze them to a mummy,—that
this is the celebrated seat of the magnificent caliphs, and of
that hero of all kings, Haroun-el-Raschid,—
" Where the gorgeous East
Shower'd on its kings barbaric pearl and gold."'
" Although the city lies now in ruins nearly, in general ap-
pearance, its size, the arrangement of its streets and bazars,
the manner of its houses, its mosques, are precisely what they
were in its best and proudest days. There is still the Tigris,
however, to gratify the most fastidious traveller. As I crossed
it by a bridge of boats, it presented a most animated and beau-
tiful scene. It is here six hundred feet wide ; I counted two
hundred and seventy paces over the bridge. Long and thick
groves of date trees border it below the city, and balconies
hang over it on each side. The latticed windows that all
have, make them more like prisons than places of enjoyment,
and the lower part of the houses are mere walls of brick, with,
in some of them, a small wooden door that leads into the
" ler-dab," or cellar, in which the people sit during the heat
of the day in summer. The only open terraces or balconies to-
wards the stream are those of the coffee-houses, where on
high benches lounge the men, with pipes at their lips : the
window-seats in most hang completely over the water, which
during a flood runs through them. There are in one or two
places steps for landing, where all tke women of the neigh-
bourhood arc generally collected together to fill their pitchers.
" In the heart of the town, the narrow streets that termi-
nate at the river's bank, are choked up with mules and their
drivers passing backward and forward for water ; for, conveni-
ent as the river is for the purpose, there is no place for fur-
nishing water to any part of the town, and, unlike Damascus,
tt seems quite destitute of fountains. Many large vessels
laden with skins from below, and rafts upon inflated skins from
above, just arrived, are broken up for the purpose of selling
the wood, lie close to the shore. There are logs of floating
timber, or heaps of it on the land ; boats undergoing repair,
or being built; pits full of bitumen, only detected by the
smell, boiling along the quay without the least defence about
them - and all this in so narrow a space, that there is much
difficulty in threading the way.
" By the time I reached Mr. Grove's house, I was satisfied
that the Bagdad of the " Arabian Nights" and the city on
the banks of the Tigris were two very different places.
Great splendour and miserable poverty have always been close
neighbours in the East. To warn a monarch of the instabi-
lity of greatness, it was not necessary to point beyond the
next abode to his palace, perhaps some wretched hovel ; for
in such manner in the most flourishiag towns of modern days
are houses mixed as I have no doubt they were in earlier and
in richer times. Despotism is the great whirlpool that ab-
sorbs all—no wonder she shallower parts should at length be-
come dry.

" This unfortunate city has for two successive seasons been
ravaged by the plague. An affecting account of the progress
of this dreadful visitation has been published in a journal kept
by Mr. Grove, who was saved throughout a period of the most
complicated misery that could befal mankind. At the same
moment an enemy was at the gates of the town, inundation
within its walls, and pestilence as well as famine in every
house: When the plague was at its height, the besieging
army sat down before the city. The unhappy inhabitants who
were yet able, secured their property in the lower parts of their
houses ; then broke in the river and swept it away, destroying
whole quarters of the city at once 1 Those who were not strong
enough to swim were drowned; it is computed that on one
dreadful night fifteen thousand people were carried away
the flood. That part of the town overthrown lies still In the
ruins,—beggars, dogs, and lepers creeping about it. There
is scarcely a street that has not marks of the destruction that
assailed it. Nothing was sold in the shops ; and when the
scanty provision of each house was exhausted, the animals that
happened to be in them were loosened and sent into the streets
to seek food for themselves, where dying, they spread about
the corruption ; the water-carriers could no longer ply their
trade, and those who were parched with fever fell exhausted in
their attempts to reach the river ; mothers, when they found
death coming upon them, gathered the little strength they had
left, to carry their infants into the streets, in the hope that
should they escape contagion, they might by some good passer-
by be saysd from starving; children of a few weeks old were
found carelessly wrapped up, and many still survive ignorant
alike of their parents and their religion. There was no es-
cape from the city ; many who attempted to reach the shore
of the Euphrates were met by its waters, and, driven back
upon the swelling Tigris, were drowned.
" Daud Pasha wits at length attacked by the disease, and
having lost all his troops, a regiment of Georgians, his own
nation, being annihilated, he abandoned the town to its present
ruler, and escaped by the river. The Albanians, who com-
posed chiefly the invading army, destroyed by fire and the
sword a great portion of what had yet been saved. The palace
has not one room remaining ; its outer wall only stands to show
its extent. The population at the breaking out of the plague
was eighty thousand ; fifty thousand died the disease alone.
Bagdad is now as wretched and fallen in its appearance as St.
Jean d'Aere. War and pestilence have walked unchecked
through the dominions of the Turk; may Ivo not read in this a
judgment against the power of Mohammed, which surely must
fall, dwindled to a shadow as it now Is ?
" The present Pasha was Governor of Aleppo, and being
appointed to the Pushalick of Bagdad, came with an army of
seven thousand men to unseat the actual ruler, who with true
Turkish spirit refused to abdicate. Ali Pasha has been in
Trieste ; so, having visited Frangistan, is very much of a re-
former, even to wearing the dress of the new Turkish army.
His love for wine, I hear, is particularly distinguished ; but
he is unfortunrtely not able to command his troops, who arc
the most unruly monsters that I ever heard of ; they plunder in
open day, and frequently extort money from passengers on
on condition that they may be spared from death or mlitilation.
A youth of 20 years of age, who is now under she refuge of
this roof, was not many days ago walking reuletly through the
streets, when a knot of these ruffians stopped him, and desired
him to fall upon his knees, that ho might have his head cut off.
He naturally objected to this dangerous mode of amusement;
but, resolved upon pursuing their humour, the soldiers would
listen to no remonstrance. Their victim resisted, and calling
for assistance, attracted a shopkeeper, who endeavoured to ap-
pease his persecutors. ' What will you give to save his head ?'
asked the soldiers, The merchant, I thiuk, named a sum
which was not deemed satisfactory ; the devoted head was
bargained for as if it had been a piece of merchandise—the
sum offered was not eonsidered sufficient to save it ; the matter
therefore was compromised, arid the boy was allowed to de-
part with the loss of his hand. He held it out, and receiving
one cut, ran with it dangling from his wrist, la beg assistance
and shelter here. He is recovering yet), fast."
The next extract is quoted rather to make our readers
acquainted with the cool indifference a the gallant
Major than with the well-1st:Iwo hospitality of the
Arabs. The scene laid near the ruins of the an-
cient city of Caesarea ;
(‘ We continued along the banks of the river, occasionally
making an attempt to stem the current, which always fees,
trated es, till in despair, about four o'clock, we yielded to fate,
that seesned to have determined that we were 110 to past tha
Zucka, nor indeed, without seeeeese to advance a step further.
The country was er.dee water as far as 1i could see. A loaf of
bread end eumelleed eggs still t•etnalnekl in the convent sack,
'
and, ta the last green spetthin sight, we resolved to
await the dawn of another day. A large and shady tree
was aboye us; and below, between ;Jewett shelving hanks,
ran the river. The clouds nso,reiseel a rainy !iight, and with
rueful faces, having Ani,stied the last egg ut tba sack, we
endeavoured to prepare foe it; when, suddenly starting from a
little thicket behind us, appeared a single Arab, carrying a
spear in his hand, and in his girdle a hatchet. Ile was coal:
black, and of a most formidable height.
" Peace be to you said he, striding into the midst of our

6.
pausing,little circle, and then as if doubtful whether wweheario
rited such a salutation. Upon you also be peace I' c° atintied
come you ?' replied my spokesman. From there,obich
the Arab, pointing in a careless manner with his chill swig
seemed-so say, " That's enough for you to know ; an run.
down at my feet, fixed his eyes for some moments upon -ation
" Breaking silence at length, he began a cross-
of Hassan in a blunt tone, that showed, in his own ees
What otast)eril
any rate, he was the greatest man of the parts'.
do with that Frank ?' said he to Hassan. 110 is 111,
was the reply ; what should Ido with him ?' 'He is illooa it
del?' What do I know ? He is an Englishman.' at the
merciful. Is he a fool or a dervish, that he sits here 10,1
close of day ? Where is he going ?" Inshallab, to Jerassi, the
answered Hassan ; and if you can show us a ford
ov
to
tba
river, you shall be well rewarded ; and that will be more iv
purpose than asking questions here.' Wallah, you saY
cried the Arab ; I came acros?, the river this morning
...d.,
me see what I shall have, and in an hour I'll show the °1- as,
" The bargain was soon struck ; for I was so pleascdt,otoo,
cape from the necessity of lodging where he had fennn, said
that I promised him a sum beyond his hopes. Erfic,hcl'an thy
he, the moment he heard it, let us be gone;' and, 'n'(ti-with
iat alien.v ~ at
mounting, we prepared to follow. But, too much MOW 0.
his good fortune, our guide was anxious to have it at once Ineli be
session, and, turning suddenly, demanded payment bef°,e of
set out. I was not in a-humour for dispute, and, in WI:, I
the entreaties of the Christian and the doubts of Has,s'ho'ilt
paid him all without condition. He now strode awaY without
deigninguttering a syllable, or to satisfy our curiosity
the part of the river to which Fie m wordo lead us. to
In an hour, however, true to his, he brought us bich
There was a small island in the midst of the stream, pas" 00
it ran at a great rate, and the Arab declared the water but
much more rapid and higher than in the morning. I salad,
little chance of reachingthe other side, and was not iyinic,
pleased to perceive our sulky leader seat himself by the :you
and lighting his pipe, resign himself quietly to smoke. ,"t
may go over if you like,' said he when I addressed him, 'll
don't think you'll reach the other side. God is
we shall You promised to take us over,' was the arog od
from my side, " and an Arab never fails in his word.' no
forbid,' continued he ; but I cannot swim across, and baje
horse.' asa
,d I proposed that he should ride mine, and try the ford's ncit
we would wait until he came back. He. at once egreed'ito•
leaping upon him, rode into the stream. The current,Aro,
ever, was too strong ; the horse was swept away, and the 141
being thrown off, had some difficult Py to regain the
bank. • id
exerted himself to recover the horse, who landed safely'that
lower down, and, bringing him up to me, put the moue,' ont
merciful, and
had given to him into my hand, saying, with the sal° I
manner, " I can't take you across ; there is your money
ald
urged him to keep it, as he had accomplished for us all be c 0
do. He was nevertheless positive, counted out the piot Ireo
and, in placing the last in my hand, There,' said he, If
Arab never fails in his word. You cannot cross to-nigh, %hes,
you like to follow me, I'll shew you where you may rest;
w
without waiting for an answer, walked . I was 611( ter
O
lighted with the unexpected change in the character 0;
man, who was one of the most forbidding. looking fellow's of
saw, that I willingly followed him, resolved to mistrust an

no more.
testa
" Before dark, we reached an encampment of blae—lt
ed
situated in a hollow among trees. Before we hr..td enter eb°
our friend had slipped away. As I was about to make rose'
in an Arab camp, Hassan, afraid that I might betray "
ners, whispered to me, ' On no account, ask hospitalitlidepee
must take it as a matter of course." With perfect en!: anal
therefore, I rode up to the best-koking tent of the tribe,
dismounting, established myself within it. The we'll:11d 10
children were all employed in driving in the animals, a."
for some minutes without being perceived. ,
" At length the master of the adjoining tent came it/
pisgl
observing that I was a Christian, merely said, Good eve,'
—you are welcome,' and instantly ordered a fire to be: or/
A large hole was dug at the mouth of the tent, and 'tirpet 1/1
few minutes we had a famous blaze. I spread my 00.4
oar
front of it, and awaited the dinner that I had overhe,he
host order. His family occupied the next division to 71, tbe,
wherein we were seated, which I found was destined 1.‘:: s
agead
young of the flocks. The lambs and kids were brought
tied to pegs in the ground ; some of the smallest beiegia;#4
to go loose and play about. The goats and sheep wereiutioe°l
some distance ; and the constant barking of the dogs 9 fere
that they were well watched. A partition of reeds,
Le° 014
with cloth, divided us from the women and children, yru°
chattering away and making cakes at a great rate.
" The hour of dinner at length arrived. The wen
the mouth of the tent, and prayed for some minutes, 15:""
women brought in messes of milk and hot cakes. MY :
half a dozen of the latter, and a large bowl of sweet 021 tura
which I did ample justice. I was so well pleased at the re
lib°
affairs had taken under the auspices of the black Ara.,b,ht ,
might have been one of the good genii of the river for 07 tbs,
could discover, for I could learn nothirabout if
ig
camp, that I was as much satisfied with my country fare J
had feasted from the turtle that I had seen on the sea-s" log°
It rained very hard all night, and, with my feet to eel for
wood that had been thrown on the fire before we prePAvr brore
rest, I slept so soundly, that I did not notice until u1,',.008"
the strange bedfellows with whom my travelling had 4' 101
me acquainted. The kids and lambs that had been le:04011;
had collected together upon my blanket, some underea"fl la'
some above it. One had perched like the nightmare uriacof
breast, and another bad taken possession of my paler 9°
pletely, that I must have rested my head frequently JaPorio
during the night. The ewes had just been Enilicr".:ertbde
loosened from their tether, rushed into the tent to Tee'
young they had been deprived of during the night' d, al;
nearly swept away in the confusion of recognition ; ae b
prehensive of punishment from the anxious dams, in cas
ignorantly overlaid any of their nois,y progeny, I lies-nti
bd.''
and left them to enjoy their maternal raptures undista
We cannot take leave of these volumes, lilt"' 'love
pressing the very great pleasure with which we oof
perused them. They will repay the trouble, e„scltios
a second reading, both in the matter of instr;oith
and amusement. The first volume is embellisheu
a portrait of the Author—a fine dashingl°°V;gorof
low ; the second by a beautiful and striking
the Lake of Tiberias.