Chapter VII: Travel in Europe and America (1)

1868-1880.

Dr. Gray made his fourth journey to Europe in the fall of 1868. He landed in September, and went at once to Kew, where he remained most of the time at work in the herbarium until November. He made a short round of visits, first to Mr. Church, who was then rector of Whatley, a village of Somersetshire, where, with Mrs. Gray, he enjoyed to the full his stay in one of the loveliest parts of rural England. They went also to Down to pay a visit to Darwin, and with them went Dr. and Mrs. Hooker, with their two eldest children, and Professor Tyndall. Those were days never to be forgotten. In November, Dr. and Mrs. Gray joined some family friends in Paris, with whom they went to Egypt and passed the winter on the Nile, taking the longest vacation, Dr. Gray said, he had ever enjoyed. Upon their return they passed through Italy, Switzerland, and Germany, where old botanical acquaintances were renewed, and some persons seen whom he had known only by correspondence. In England he again worked at Kew, and repeated the visits at Whatley and Down, sailing for America, November 9, 1869.

TO A. DE CANDOLLE.

DOWN, BROMLEY, KENT, October 29, 1868.

In all these busy days I have neglected your kind letter of October 6, partly in the expectation that I might be able to announce to you definitely the time we should reach Paris. I can even now only say that we expect to be there between the 15th and the 20th of November, and I think we shall have just about those days (15-20) in Paris. If we can meet, very pleasant it will be; but I dare hardly expect it. My own and Mrs. Gray’s parcels for you shall be left at Masson’s in case we do not see you. I am making, with Mrs. Gray, a pleasant week of holiday, most of it here with Mr. Darwin, whose health just now is, for him, remarkably good.

I mean to keep you apprised of our movements; and we may, by some nice adjustments, meet in Germany. At least, and best of all, in Switzerland, which we shall be likely to reach at midsummer. But I have matured no plans for anything beyond the winter.

... I should like to visit Montpellier and to see Planchon, but we shall, when we reach the Mediterranean, be attached to a party, time will be short, and our movements no longer free.

Bentham is working at Kew with his accustomed regularity and diligence. Hooker’s time is much occupied with matters of administration....

It must be a great satisfaction to you, that your son not only takes to botany, but shows so great talent. I hope the line may not fail, but that De Candolle botanists may flourish in the next century as they have in the nineteenth....

* * * * *

The death of Horace Mann, mentioned in the next letter, Dr. Gray felt as a great personal loss, as well as a loss to science. He was a young man of much promise, and he felt on leaving home that, in putting him in charge of the herbarium and of the college classes, he could not have made any arrangement more promising and satisfactory. He had counted much on his future help as assistant, and anticipated that he would become a very valuable aid in carrying on his work, for he had patience, conscientiousness, and steady diligence. Mr. Mann’s lungs were weak, and his health required care, but nothing of immediate danger was feared. But consumption developed rapidly, and he died after a few weeks’ illness.

Charles Wright was also working at Cambridge, and took charge of the herbarium and garden during Dr. Gray’s absence.

TO CHARLES WRIGHT.

HYÈRES, EAST OF TOULON, November 29, 1868.

I had yesterday at Marseilles a letter from Mrs. Mann, conveying the sad intelligence of her son’s death. Very sad it is....

My heart bleeds for poor Mrs. Mann, who was wrapped up in Horace, and who feels it as the greatest of disappointments. To me, also, it is a very great disappointment of long-cherished hopes.

I expect to find letters at Alexandria when we reach there. We sail from Marseilles a week hence, going meanwhile to see some of this famous shore further east....

CAIRO, December 16, 1868.

Thank you heartily for your letter of November 13. I am here learning some subtropical botany, seeing trees growing which you have in Cuba, etc., Parkinsonia, Schinus molle, Carob, etc. Off up the Nile to-morrow....

In brief, I want to retain you permanently as my fidus Achates. You are to have supreme control of the Garden. When I get home we will see what can be done. You will have to cut off Cuba till then, but can work at Flora Cubensis a good deal of the time. As far as my means can go, you shall be made as comfortable as possible....

Arrangements were made to have H. sweep and keep clean the herbarium, and Mrs. L. to scrub when needed. I fear the herbarium may have been left to get dusty and untidy. Please take it in hand; ask L. as to getting H., or some one, to sweep regularly; let no dusty work that can be helped be done in the large herbarium room. Keep coal-ashes dust from the fire from getting in, etc. Spare no expense and pains to keep down dust and dirt....

As to dampness in herbarium, look out according to your judgment. Air occasionally by leaving open doors of cabinets when a good fire is on, or a dry day out. The north corner of the herbarium is the only place that dampness gathers in, except the shelves next the floors. Well, do the best you can. Good-by....

TO JOHN TORREY.

ON BOARD THE STEAMER POONAH, MARSEILLES HARBOR, December 5, 1868.

We started from Paris a few days before the rest, and before Charles Loring had arrived. We changed the cold north for the bland south in one night, going from Paris to Avignon, where I had the pleasure of showing J. olive groves, old walled towns, and all sorts of mediæval things; then at Nîmes I introduced her to the old Roman world in the well-preserved amphitheatre and the beautiful temple called Maison Carrée, ruins of temples, baths, pavements, and all that,--a charming place, of which I had very pleasant memories almost thirty years old. Then, to revive old memories, we went on to Montpellier; had a nice day with Martins[72] and Planchon[73] (whose photographs, as well as Brongniart’s, I have for you); then we came on via Arles to Marseilles, within an hour of the rest of the party coming direct from Paris. They all sailed next day; we waited a week, so as to get a view of this interesting shore, which we should not be likely ever to visit again. So we went first to Hyères, where we first saw orange groves laden with fruit and tall date-palms, and eucalyptus-trees forty feet high, and all such nice things; roses by the ten thousand in hedges.... Toward evening on the third day, we took a carriage, drove through Mentone along the coast road to Monaco; passing by the modern and gaming district, we went into the old fortified town to lodge; went round the ramparts in the morning, saw more agaves than ever before, and the steep rock 300 feet high covered with opuntias, having stems as thick as my leg, not to say my body. Next morning took railroad through Nice to Antibes; visited M. Thuret,[74] the botanist, by appointment; a most charming man, a French Protestant; his carriage waited for us at the station; a delightful place, which made us crazy with delight, 3,000 or more species of the most interesting plants growing in the open air, where frost is seldom seen; plants and trees which starve in conservatories here grow to vast size; all kinds of things I never saw growing anyhow before! Roses by the thousand. Oh, what a delightful time! But after a nice déjeuner at two o’clock, we were off soon after three to the station, and so reached Marseilles at nine P.M. yesterday.

I have left no room to speak of the most sad loss of Mann, very sad. How it will affect me I cannot tell now, but suppose it will bring us home next fall....

TO R. W. CHURCH.

ON THE NILE, BETWEEN GIRGEH AND DENDERA, January 3, 1869.

It is only by an effort of memory that I can recall that seemingly far distant week, with which my narrative must commence, when we went, on Monday, to Nice by railway, and on Tuesday (taking my college colleague, Professor Lovering), by a carriage over the finest part of the Corniche road to Mentone, and, dropping our companion there, three miles further to Palazzo Orengo, just within the present Italian frontier; a house several hundred years old, which Mr. Hanbury, our host, has recently restored and is beautifying. It is near the base of a steep acclivity, projecting a little into the sea and commanding a view of Mentone and Monaco with the mountains behind and westward far beyond them on the one side, Ventimiglia and Bordighera on the other, and seaward on rare occasions giving a view of the mountains of Corsica, over a hundred miles distant. One of those rare occasions, well-timed for us, we enjoyed the next morning before sunrise, and again in the afternoon. All that day (Wednesday) we enjoyed the place and its surroundings, and the pleasant society of Mr. and Mrs. Hanbury. They are much liked by the people of the hamlet and district, for whom they are doing a great deal, establishing a school for girls, with the hearty coöperation of the curé. Wednesday, after dinner, this good-will of the neighborhood was shown in a truly Italian way. The advocate of Ventimiglia, having some business relative to land to transact with Mr. Hanbury, stayed to dinner, and then asked permission to read and present a poem which he had composed in compliment to Mrs. (Catherine) Hanbury; it being St. Catherine’s Day. It was delivered with Italian grace and fervor, and an Italian lady, now one of the family, told us that the versification was very choice. Thursday, the grounds and house were thrown open, and a collation provided for all the English people at Mentone that Mr. Moggridge chose to conduct. Earlier I walked over to Mentone to make some calls, especially upon young Moggridge,[75] whom you know, and who, I am sorry to say, had been seriously ill, and was still confined to his bed. I found him busy over the flowers and plants which his most attentive and energetic father brings to him from all the mountains around, cheerful and happy, but I fear he will hardly be able to complete his illustrations of the botany of Mentone. Late in the afternoon, after enjoying the picnic, a carriage took us to Mentone, and thence to Monaco, where we slept, in order that the next day might not be too fatiguing to Mrs. G. Friday, the railway, newly completed along the shore to Monaco, took us through Villa Franca to Nice, and to Antibes, where I had arranged to have some hours with M. Thuret (a charming man and excellent botanist) and his incomparable garden.... The only thing lacking was the magnificent view of the snowy Maritime Alps (of which I saw a sketch made by young Moggridge) which the house commands in good weather, but which was hidden from us by clouds and mist. We reached Marseilles and our hotel in the evening; had Saturday for our preparations, and at evening went on board the Poonah, which was to start for Alexandria early Sunday morning. I need not say anything about the scenery of the region we traversed, nor of the pleasure of first seeing date-palms and eucalypti, etc., and orange and lemon trees in groves, laden with blossom and fruit, and long hedges of roses in full bloom in December.

... Fine weather and smooth water from Sunday to Thursday evening, especially during the long and lovely day which opened with Stromboli and the other Lipari Islands directly before us, and the snowy summit of Etna in the distance, and closed with the sun setting behind the southern base of Etna, and an inverted pyramid of smoke resting on its summit. The day was perfect, and, not to speak of anything else, Etna was in full view all day long, except when hidden for an hour by the cliffs behind Messina. The latter end of the voyage was uncomfortable enough, the sea very heavy, and glad we were to land at Alexandria, Saturday noon, December 12, a showery day, the streets deep with mud and filth. Early Sunday morning we were off by rail for Cairo, where we joined the main body, awaiting our arrival, and I had time for the English service in the afternoon, a bare dozen of people; but Mrs. L. said the congregation was very much larger in the morning. Monday to Friday we lived “Arabian Nights” in Cairo. If I let my pen run on my story might be only shorter than the thousand and one of the volume aforesaid.

On Friday, all being ready, we took to our boats, in which we have now been domiciled so long, seemingly, that events of October and November in England are dimly remembered, as if they belonged to another “dynasty.” There are nine of us, in two boats. The first and larger one, in which our table is spread, the Ibis, accommodates all the ladies and myself, the only married man of the company.... The bow is occupied by the crew, and at the very prow a simple cooking-affair, from which excellent dinners of four courses, breakfasts, etc., are produced in some wonderful way by our Arab cook and his assistant. The smaller boat, the Undine, gives ample quarters to the three single men, also our dragoman, the younger Sapienza, a Maltese, whose time, however, is mostly passed on our boat.

An independent party, but arranged to keep in company, consists of Mr. and Mrs. Howland of New York, very nice people, with their servant and dragoman, in the Heron. But I must cut short these details, or I shall never come to an end. On Friday and Saturday the wind was dead ahead, and, tracking being impossible until we get out of Cairo, we were stationary, and on Saturday some of us visited the interesting museum at Boulak, made by Mariette. Sunday, wind still unfavorable, until nearly sunset, when we got up two or three miles, where we commanded a superb view. In the morning you preached to the great satisfaction of your congregation of eleven, a very appreciating audience. We established a regular liturgical service. I was installed as curate; but Mrs. Gray read the first of your university sermons.... Monday and Tuesday, and I think Wednesday also, the boat was tracked, and so we made only a few miles a day, and some of us were much on shore....

This [the temple of Abydos] was the first Egyptian structure of any consequence I had ever seen, and it is very impressive. Most of the roofing remains, and having been exhumed, for the greater part, within a very few years, the colored sculptures covering the walls are very perfect and fresh. They are in the best style, of the same age as those in the great temple at Thebes, which we have yet to see.

Yesterday we sailed along slowly, to-day still more so, luxuriating in this January weather, which is like our June at home, without any of its fitfulness. To-day we had full service, and I read your second university sermon, which all liked very much indeed, and have bespoken the third for next Sunday. Your audience consists of eight Unitarians and three Orthodox Presbyterians. By the way I was much gratified with the appreciative review of your sermons in the “Spectator,” in a number which I received at Alexandria. Thanks for the other papers you forwarded also. I think only letters are awaiting us at Thebes (Luxor), but Mr. Hale may send up papers by private opportunity. The mails taken by runners carry only letters. Our latest intelligence from the Western World is barely up to the formation of Gladstone’s ministry. I shall have a deal to read up. But here our days pass on with scarce a thought of the modern and western world, except on Christmas and New Year’s days. I wish I could give you some idea of our life here, and of all we see and enjoy, but you must imagine it. We are well supplied with books, especially relative to Egypt, are busy from morn to night in a leisurely way, and are intensely comfortable....

We had yesterday for Dendera, where the temple, as to structure, is in most complete preservation, but the architecture is of the rather debased Ptolemaic period, and the sculptures on the walls, never equal, I imagine, to those at Abydos, have been sadly defaced by the early Coptic Christians. But all was very interesting, and the ladies were all with us to enjoy it.

Evening.--We are lying eight miles below Thebes, which we expect to reach early to-morrow morning, and to receive and dispatch letters. So I must close this. We are writing at nine P.M., with almost all the cabin windows open. The day has been like one of July in England,--in one respect unusually like, for the sky has been overcast with light clouds, and the air sultry, ending as such a day might with a sudden and brief storm--of wind only, though it seemed about to rain; but it is now still, and the stars are shining out of a clear sky.

TO CHARLES WRIGHT.

NUBIA, BELOW DERR, January 21, 1869.

Let me begin a line to you from this Æthiopian region. The object is to inclose to you some fresh seeds of Ficus sycomorus, the true sycamore or fool fig,--not bad to eat. They were gathered at the first cataract of the Nile, at ancient Syene, or between it and Philæ. I think you may like to send a part to Don José, for culture in Cuba, where it will be a good thing to have. And the rest, let Guerrineau try to raise some, that we may have one in the conservatory. I shall send, along with heavy things, some nuts of the Doum palm, Hyphæne Thebaica, which branches and is picturesque. That and the date palm are the principal trees here. Besides, there is Acacia Nilotica (the sont) and one or two other acacias, and an occasional sycamore. Below, a jujube tree was not uncommon, and plenty of the fine Acacia (or Albizzia) Lebbek, with its great flat pods and large leaflets. But none in Nubia. Up here the cultivable valley of the Nile is just the slope of the banks bared as the river subsides after the inundation, making a strip of green crops from five feet to five rods wide,--all else desert, either rock or sand as the case may be. We came twenty-four hours ago within the tropics,--a new thing for me, and I thought of Cuba and you. But it is just comfortably warm, 70° in the shade as I write,--has been 76°,--the nights down to 60° or so; just nice and comfortable if you keep out of the sun, which, though seemingly not hot, has an overpowering effect I never knew at home. Our winds are steady from north and northwest, pushing us up the river steadily. About sixty miles more, or may be seventy, is the second cataract, and our limit. Then we turn our faces north again, and descend, making our principal stops by the way. For thus far, we have stopped only little or briefly, taking only such sight-seeing as came in our way or took us little out of it. Yet we have had a glance at several of the greatest things. Abou-Simbel--the great rock temples of this region, and the main thing to go up into Nubia for--we hope to reach to-morrow or day after. We should have been there now, but were delayed at Assouan by long negotiations before we could get put up the Cataracts, and afterwards lost forty-eight hours by breaking the rudder of our larger boat. No letters till we get back to Thebes (Luxor)--some weeks hence. There I trust there is something from you....

TO JOHN TORREY.

January, 1869.

... At Luxor, on our way up, we stopped only half a day, and took our first view of the great temple at Karnak. Left on the morning of January 8; reached Esneh, the capital of Upper Nubia, in early morning of the 10th. Sunday, passed the day and night there. The Ptolemaic temple, or rather the first court of it, very perfect and thoroughly cleared out within, the columns especially beautiful and all perfect. January 12, having sailed past Silsilis quarries, etc., by night, reached Assouan before noon. Here we reached the granite rocks and the basalt, and the next day visited the quarries whence the obelisks and all the great shafts, blocks, sarcophagi, granite colossi, etc., have been taken during several thousand years, the last almost two thousand years ago; and here are the chisel-marks and places cut to receive the wedges as sharp and fresh as if the workmen had only just left off work. Of course we viewed the obelisk left in the rough, only partly detached. We were moored right opposite Elephantiné, and during the two or three days’ delay before we could arrange to be taken up the cataracts, or secure fitting weather, the excursion up to Philæ was made by most of the party, on camels or donkeys (I greatly prefer the latter), and the very picturesque scenery enjoyed.

January 16 and 17 were grand days, going up the cataracts, our boats in charge of the Nubians. The first day, Saturday, sailed up to the rapids and were drawn up the first severe one,--a hard pull and barely room to get our larger boat through; 17th, a quiet Sunday, in still water between upper and lower rapids; under most picturesque surroundings of river, rock, and desert, here strangely mingled, and a hot cloudless sun; had service and much enjoyed Church’s sermon No. 3. Climbing one of the rugged masses of rock toward sunset, had a fine distant view of lovely Philæ. Monday, 18th, the army of Nubians again took hold of our boats, and with noises indescribable and persevering efforts the boats were drawn, one by one, up the final and worst fall; we were in calm water before sunset, and at dusk were moored close to Philæ, which we got charming views of, from the opposite shore next morning at sunrise; came up and made a brief visit to the ruins after breakfast, and sailed on with a beautiful breeze, when suddenly, about twenty miles on, the rudder of the Ibis gave way (injured probably in the cataracts), and for forty-eight hours we lay by near a Nubian hamlet (climbed the mountains on Arabian side; got wonderful views of desert, rock on this side, reddish-yellow sand on the other), while Antonio, the dragoman, with rowboat went back to Philæ, and thence by land to Assouan, whence on camel brought up new rudder-post, workmen, etc., reinstated the rudder, and--January 21, afternoon--we were off again.

Nubia is very different from Egypt, picturesque rocky ranges always near the river and broken into peaks and pyramids, and all desert except the narrow selvage reclaimed by irrigation with sakias; here the vegetation (barley, peas, beans, and lupines) intensely green by the contrast with yellow sand or light brown sandstone.

January 23, before reaching Korosko (whence caravans to Dongola; visited their camps, very wild Arabs and blacks, and very disagreeable white traders, Greeks, probably, with villainous faces) saw our first crocodile, and sent two shots at once at him, but the huge fellow flounced off the sand bank into the river, probably not much hurt.

January 24, first met with chameleons; got three or four from the boys, but finally kept only one, which we still have here at Cairo--a lovely little brute whose name is Billy, and a great pet; a great diversion to watch his change of hues, and especially to see him catch flies by darting out his slender, india-rubber-like tongue to the length of several inches (nearly that of his whole body when the fly was far enough off), and with wonderful quickness and certainty. Service in the afternoon, with Church’s last sermon, and sorry we were to have reached the end of them.

But I shall never have done with our journey at this rate, and shall give you not the least idea of it after this fashion; how some days we sailed on with fair winds, which is very cheerful; some we tracked, and then we were much on shore and mingled with the people; and often strong head winds kept us fast at the bank, sometimes for two or three days, which grew tedious. Well, on the 27th we came to the great attraction of the upper Nile, Abou-Simbel; but the wind being fine and fair, sailed on at a great rate, and reached our terminus, Wady Halfeh, next morning. Made next day excursion to the farthest point, the high rock Abou Seir, which dominates the second cataracts, and gives extensive view beyond, far into Africa; head winds next day kept us at the village, which we explored and exchanged hospitalities with the inhabitants, the poorer part of which were beginning to suffer from famine. Later, going down, we met boat loads of corn for seed and food going up from the viceroy for their relief; little enough to do for a people so cruelly oppressed and peeled as the fellahs are. At evening we could be off, the great yard and sail now down, and small mizzen in its place, to use on the rare occasion of a south wind, and now we depend upon the current and oars, five on each side, handled by our stalwart crew, their strokes timed by queer Arabic chants; more severe labor than in ascending (except when tracking) and not so pleasant to us as sailing; but yet we could come down much faster than we came up. Whenever there was sight-seeing by day the crews would usually row all night, so we got on finely.

MESSINA, March 24.

Behold us so far back towards Europe. Here, kept in by that strange thing in our experience, a rainy day, and prevented thereby from going to Taormina (Tauromenium) to see the Greek theatre, the site of Naxos, and a near view of Etna, I resume my writing; which was interrupted a week ago by multifarious things at Cairo.... I think I must go back to the diary, and so try to tell you, in this mechanical sort of way, somewhat of our occupation day by day. The bare names of the places must convey to you all I can hope to of our seeings and doings.

February 1.--Reached Abou Simbel at daybreak, and were under the great giant Rameses when the first rays of the sun touched their huge, placid faces, and were in the rock temple within when the horizontal rays entering the small opening for a half hour lighted up the great Osiride figures to best advantage, and even reached the broken statues at the bottom of the adytum. Later in the day explored leisurely and repeatedly the whole interior chambers with candles, and occasionally with Bengal lights and magnesium wire (the best of all lights), bringing out well the famous sculptures that cover all the walls. Climbed the heights later in the day to get superb views of desert and river and the sunset. Late in evening some went again through the sand to see the great faces by moonlight, which, however, they supplemented by torches. We were moored right under the face of the smaller rock temple....

February 9.--Awoke at Philæ; of which I will only say that even Miss Martineau does not exaggerate the interest of the whole, and the beauty and picturesqueness of the site.

February 10.--All day at Philæ, and dropped down to Mahatta just as the sun set gloriously behind the ruins and the mighty rocks which surround them.

February 11.--The Ibis shot the great cataract, all but one of our party being on the shore to see the exciting sight,--finer, it is thought, than being on board, though you thus lose the sense of personal danger. We were taken on shore round the trying points, and in our rowboats the rest of the way down to Assouan, where we joined the Ibis, vociferously welcomed by our combined Egyptian and Nubian crews, all rejoicing, as they well might, in the safety of the Ibis, which had never done the feat before and was reckoned rather large for the undertaking. Shopping, etc., filled the day. At evening some of us called on Lady Duff-Gordon, living on her boat, now lying here. I went back later and passed an hour more with her, taking her some books we could spare her. Much pleased with her spirit and affability, but distressed at the progress disease is making; do not think she can last much longer, even in Egypt. Her last year’s visit to Syria injured her seriously.

February 12.--The Undine came down famously at sunrise, and joined us soon opposite the upper end of Elephantiné, where we went up to meet her, expecting to round the island and be off at once down the river. But a heavy blow from the north, and consequent great discouragement; we had to lay by all day, not even getting on shore with any comfort, and almost all night.

You must know that in Upper Egypt and Nubia a hakim or doctor is a great godsend to the people, and you have to give medicine all day long. On returning to Assouan I was met, when I stepped on shore, by the beaming dark countenance of a papa, to whose son, whom I thought rather far gone, I had given some medicine when going up; he had now brought down the fellow from a village several miles off, to show me how well--or nearly well--he was. Another widely grinning face met me, of a papa who had brought me his boy with a dreadfully ill-looking sore head, which I had dosed with mercurial ointment rubbed in with colza oil. He did not now bring the lad, but came a good distance to recall him to my recollection by expressive pantomime, and to say in the same way that he was “all right.” Eye-wash I dispensed in profuse abundance; and among the men cured several cases of ophthalmia which looked serious; and many a petty surgical operation did the “Hakim-Pacha”--as he came to be called--perform. I cannot tell you how much attached we got to our crews and their officers, and before we parted I made sure that many tears should flow in my behalf, by acceding to requests for eye-lotions, which were most copiously used,--by those who needed it, for cure, by those who did not, for prevention. Two sorts of creatures with which I formerly had little sympathy, I have learned to appreciate and respect,--donkeys and people of color, Arabs and Nubians especially. All idea of anything disagreeable or inferior in color of skin disappeared, or rather the darker fellows seemed the finer. As I remember sundry dark Arabs, they seem to me among the best-looking and best-behaved men I ever knew. But this digression will never do.... At sunset reached Edfou.

February 15.--Whole day at the temple, which is all but entire, and large as well as complete, and the acres of sculpture and hieroglyph in excellent preservation, all recently excavated under the care of Mariette and placed under a custodian. If I could be dropped down in Egypt for one morning only, to see only one thing, it should be this temple at Edfou, though only of Ptolemaic date. I cannot stop for a single detail about it....

February 22.--Luxor: across river, tombs, Medinet el Bahree, Ramaseum, again, etc. I and some others dined in the evening on boat with our English friends (Legge, Eaton, and Baird), and celebrated Washington’s Birthday.

February 23.--Boats dropped down to Karnak, had afternoon at the great temple, tea there at dusk,--a famous tea-party in the great hall of columns, all the dignitaries at Luxor and Karnak invited; the full moonlight enjoyed for an hour or two, and then illumination with Bengal lights, making splendid effects among the 137 columns, and other parts; then rockets; some of our parties back to boat, the rest to a feast given by a splendid old Arab, the chief of Karnak, in full Arab style, with music, dancing-women, and all. Imaun Joseph, who had been our guest at the temple tea, was his relative’s guest at this banquet. Lady Duff-Gordon’s account of him had made him known to us most favorably, and we got most thoroughly attached to the man, especially after having him to dine with us next day, his smile, voice, and manners of the sweetest, and his character is every way lovely. He is as dark-skinned as most American negroes, but with very handsome features. All these experiences cannot be written, but could be talked over at large. That evening view of Karnak is the one I want to keep, so I did not go again; Mrs. G. did once more.

February 24.--Tombs of the kings; a grand but fatiguing day, most of the time in Belzoni’s, the finest and largest; most of us did two or three more. I came home over the mountains to get the fine view over the valley, etc....

March 4.--Siout: ascended the hill for the great view, from mouth of one of the great old tombs; shopped in the pretty town; accepted the American consul’s great attentions for the morning only (rich Coptic Christian family), but tore ourselves away from entreaties to stay for dinner and fantasia in the evening, in honor of the inauguration of the American President, so secured the good wind and were off in the afternoon....

March 9.--Went over the site of Memphis; saw the colossal figure of Rameses lying pathetically on his face, pyramids of Sakkara, Serapeum, the wonderful Apis sarcophagi, and finally that newly excavated, beautiful tomb structure, of date very early in old empire (fourth or fifth dynasty), with paintings and low reliefs with truthfulness, spirit, taste, and fineness of execution, much surpassing the best days of the later empire, and all free of the grotesque mythology of later times. A fine treat to come at the last.

March 10.--Hard rowing against wind to reach Gizeh; went in carriages, by road made for the Prince of Wales, to the Great Pyramid and its fellow. I went in, but no one ascended,--too much wind; Sphinx, neighboring old tombs, etc., etc.

March 11.--Cairo: packed and left the boats so long our home, and good-by to the sailors.

March 12-18.--Cairo: must not forget one day passed at Mariette’s museum, studying specially the fine things of old empire which he has discovered and rescued. Had fairly enough of mosques, Moslem tombs, modern palaces, etc. Sorry that slight illness cut off several things, notably a drive to the site of Heliopolis, marked only by a single obelisk. Steamer from Alexandria would not wait, so we must needs hurry off, our pleasant party break up, etc.

March 19.--A morning drive at Alexandria, to see Pompey’s Pillar, the Obelisk, etc., and so on board the Peluze; a beautiful evening, but blowy weather followed,--a seasick time; and here we got, not Monday evening, but Tuesday morning, boat gone to Naples the day before.... Mrs. G. badly knocked up, and here is cold spring weather and fickle, weeping skies, so unlike the thoroughly reliable weather which we had got to regard as a law of nature; wherefore such freaks take us all by surprise. Oh, how we long already for the dry air and certain sky of old Egypt!...

TAORMINA, March 25, evening.

We have done it, after all, or at least are in the way of doing it.... This morning, when the sea looked rough with the recent gales, although the very low barometer began to rise, I was not sorry when the Florio steamer was kept back, waiting an overdue corresponding vessel from Malta, and, though announced to sail to-morrow, I determined to wait yet longer for smoother weather. Meanwhile it cleared off beautifully, though with considerable wind. At four P.M. this afternoon we were off by rail with small luggage needful, on the Catania railroad; an hour and a half along a coast more picturesque than the finest parts of the Corniche road, though not so grand, brought us to Giardini; whence an ascent of an hour up a zigzag road in a one-horse carriage, commanding charming sunset views all the way, old Etna full in view southwest, brought us to this queer perch. It reminds us of Turbia, but is far more striking. We are in a primitive, but very nice auberge; our window looking full upon the whole mass of Etna glistening in the clear moonlight. On the left hand we look directly down upon the sea and along the jagged coast; on the right Taormina Castle overhangs us almost, the old castle or forts covering its narrow summit, probably 1,000 feet above us; it must command an extraordinary view. We shall see to-morrow. Rather behind us lies the amphitheatre, on a craggy buttress between us and the sea.

Morning; up at daylight, to the amphitheatre, to see sun rise out of the sea and light up Etna, which was without a cloud. The theatre really a Roman ruin, with bits only of the original Greek; the situation superb.... I climb up to Mola, get a grand study of Etna from height of 1,500-2,000 feet, the clouds keeping off till I had done. Extensive sea and coast view, but haze in the far distance. Descended on to the peak bearing the Saracenic ruins of the Castle of Taormina, overhanging the town; and now, having dined, and found Mrs. G. better, as well as desirous of warmer quarters, we are soon to descend to the shore below us, and take train for Catania. This place is very well worth visiting, and I am glad that I arranged as I did, only sorry that I had to enjoy most of it alone.

NAPLES, Tuesday, 30th.

Found Catania well worth a visit; had pleasant Easter Sunday, and superb view of Etna, and of its various former doings, sending its lavas down to the sea in a tremendous way. Getting back to Messina, the steamer, a little one, was off Monday afternoon; good parting views of Etna toward evening; an uncomfortable night; we entered the bay at daybreak, and Naples soon after sunrise, and are now domiciled in full view of Vesuvius.

TO A. DE CANDOLLE.

ROME, April 22, 1869.

... I am thirsty for botanical news, after having laid aside the botanist for a much longer time than ever before. Well, we were three and a half months in Egypt, three months of it on the Nile itself, and we have avoided the chills of winter and had a season of great enjoyment and interest. I passed your friend Professor Marcet in Nubia, but missed visiting his boat, from his sailing under the English flag, but hit upon that of Mr. Naville,[76] whom we saw afterwards at Edfou, and were much pleased with.

Botany on the Nile is nearly _nil_, yet I collected a small suite of specimens, as souvenirs. Returning, we had a most uncomfortable passage to Messina.... In Naples and in the charming environs we passed a fortnight and rather more, and have now had a week in Rome.

We are just now recovering the mild and charming weather which we left behind in Egypt. We shall stay here, I suppose, only ten days more, make a short stay in Florence, also in Venice, visit the Italian lakes, and, I think, go to Vienna by way of Innsbruck, to be there the first week in June. All else is uncertain, except that we mean to be in Switzerland in July....

* * * * *

Dr. Gray said he found more botany in a half day in the desert than in a week in Egypt! A country cultivated for five thousand years had no weeds. There were long walks and occasional excursions in Nubia into the desert when the dahabeah was lying still.

TO CHARLES WRIGHT.

MUNICH, June 8, 1869.

... It is hurrying and distracting work, this traveling with a pair of nice young ladies, sharp for sight-seeing, ... and a lot of botanists and gardens, etc., you want to see on your own hook. So you will excuse all curtness in letters....

At Munich we saw, of course, much of Madame de Martius,[77]--a sweet, good soul, deeply grieved by the loss of her husband, and yet bears up bravely. And we learned many interesting things about good Martius. Notices of Martius’ death were sent, as usual, to all friends....

11th. Nuremberg is a queer old place indeed. We have nearly twenty-four hours here, and go on the way to Dresden to-day.

TO GEORGE ENGELMANN.

DRESDEN, June 13, 1869.

I’ll tell you what our plans are at present. To stay here till Friday noon, the 18th; Mrs. G. to be very quiet, as she cares mainly to see the gallery and enjoy it leisurely. On Tuesday, I, with the young ladies, go up to Freiberg to visit the celebrated mining school, etc., and on return next day, to see the Forst-Akademie at Tharand. Friday night all to Töplitz, to pass two days with a friend,--the Sunday’s rest. Monday to Prague, Tuesday to Regensburg, Wednesday or Thursday to Munich, and Saturday evening to be at Ragatz (or Pfeffers). Soon after at least Mrs. G. and I will be settled for a while at Geneva.

HÔTEL BYRON, VILLENEUVE, July 15, 1869.

... Boissier has been seriously sick with a pleurisy, etc.; is at Orbe, or was. If still there I should go to see him; but he has now gone to Gries, in Appenzell, to a bathing-place, and I shall not see him.... Reuter, his curator, was away last week, but I shall see him, I presume, to-morrow.

I have just lost my mother, at a good old age. My father died twenty-four years earlier....

It is a charming place here. We are spending the morning lazily, and go on soon to Geneva. The young people have gone on to Chamouni, which we do not care to revisit.... Kindest regards to Professor Fenzl, with regrets that I shall not see him.

TO JOSEPH HOWLAND.

INTERLAKEN, July 26, 1869.

... We have had a joyful time in Switzerland, and for me a complete rejuvenation. And as to Mrs. Gray, who did not need that, what we call “the movement cure” has done her more good than all Egypt. That my lamentable failure of breath on Piz Langarde was owing, not to advancing years, as I had foreboded, nor wholly to the rarefaction of the atmosphere above 9,000 feet, as Mrs. H. suggested, but to a violent cold, then impending, I proved satisfactorily by walking the other day down from Mürren to Lauterbrunnen (having walked up the eve before), and then right on over the Wengern Alp to Grindelwald, and I believe as comfortably as I did it (all but the first part) thirty, and then nineteen, years ago!

Weather has been all we could ask for,--this the first rainy day to keep us indoors, and it now promises to be pleasant by noon, so that we can go to Giessbach. Let me tell you what we have done....

Wife and I started Thursday, to Sierre, by rail. Friday, carriage to Visp, and horses to St. Nicolaus. Saturday, char-à-banc to Zermatt, and horses to hotel on the Riffel. Only my wife’s own pen can relate how she felt in flesh, bones, and spirit after that, nor her surprise to find next morning that she was “alive, and alive like to be,” nor her keen delight in Matterhorn, Monte Rosa, and surroundings, and the profusion of alpine flowers. Sunday and Monday on Riffel most enjoyable. Tuesday, Mrs. G., thinking _facile descensus_ inapplicable to such a steep path, insisted upon walking down to Zermatt, which she did; a long rest at Zermatt, with pleasant English friends, and a dinner enabled us to go in char to St. Nicolaus to sleep, taking a small thunder-shower in the way.

Wednesday, “we still live,” and go on horses, through two showers, to Visp again, and then carriage to Sierre and rail down to Hôtel Byron, to get charming view and sleep.

Thursday, all fresh comparatively, and go in a chaise to Chillon, and then back to our pleasant quarters in Hôtel de la Metropole, Geneva. Here we rest, see friends, and do botany till Tuesday last.

TO R. W. CHURCH.

LONDON, August 22, 1869.

... With all my endeavors I could not get off a note to you by yesterday’s (Saturday’s) post, and so shall be late in announcing to you our prosperous return to England. We left Paris on Thursday, reached Amiens in time to visit the cathedral, a most striking specimen of fullest-flowered Gothic, saw it again on Friday morning, and, after a smooth crossing, got to London before sunset. Yesterday I had to go to the banker’s, to Kew, and to see our Harvard men at Putney.[78] I must now needs be with them on their trial day; and then, tell me frankly if it would perfectly suit Mrs. Church and yourself if we came to you on Saturday (28th) for a few days. Later would serve us, if you prefer....

After that I hope we can get settled at Kew, and do some work, for which I have little enough time left.

As to Exeter meeting of British Association, I am on the whole glad enough to keep away, especially from Darwinian discussions, in which I desire not to be at all “mixed up” with the prevailing and peculiarly English materialistic, positivic line of thought, with which I have no sympathy, while in natural history I am a sort of Darwinian.

TO A. DE CANDOLLE.

KEW, [CHARLTON HOUSE], September 20, 1869.

The skies were propitious to us in Switzerland, and the only very warm day was the one which we passed, very pleasantly indeed, with Godet at Neufchâtel. Thence we went to Paris, stopping at Dijon en route....

Oliver and Baker are here steadily at work. Dr. Masters[79] drops in now and then. Dr. Hooker, after some respite, was at home. Dr. Thomson returned last week; and now Bentham is here also, fresh from the Continent.

At British Museum I find Dr. Carruthers[80] and the new assistant, Dr. Trimen. Mr. Bennett still, I think, away on his holiday. Botanical and other news I have none. I send you this mere apology for a letter, in the hope of getting something from you; and later I may have more to say. Can I be of any use to you here?

Remember me kindly to Dr. Müller,[81] to whom best thanks for all the friendly services which he has rendered me.

Our united kind regards to Madame De Candolle, and to your son (from whom I still expect a photograph), and my wife’s to yourself. We have the most pleasant recollections of our brief visit to Geneva.

Believe me ever your devoted

ASA GRAY.

TO GENERAL HOWLAND.

KEW, October 3, 1869.

I don’t know when you would get a response to your welcome letter of August 22, which reached us here in due course, so long as things went on in the ordinary way,--I working at botany as much as possible, but presiding here over a considerable household, some sight-seeing and much intermittent visiting. But now that I am all alone, and my wife with the rest of them _girareing_ over the north of England, sober reflection has its hour, and I remember the friends that are far away, perhaps on the shores of Italian lakes, and long to know how they get on and what they are about. To attain which knowledge and put myself _en rapport_ I should first, I know, give you some account of ourselves and our doings.

But where to begin? I think we wrote you from Paris. We had three weeks there, I mostly at the Jardin des Plantes till near dinner-time....

For ourselves, after cool weather in Paris we came in for a piece of very sultry weather in London, where we had to stay awhile, our lodgings here not being available till about 15th September. So after staying to the Harvard boat-race,--which I saw from the umpire’s boat, and Mrs. Gray, with good Miss S., from some grounds above Fulham,--we set off on a little round of visits, first to the Darwins’, near Bromley, then to the Churches’ in Somersetshire, a pleasant country rectory and a delightful couple. You remember the university sermons we had up the Nile were his. Next we passed a day with an old bachelor botanical acquaintance near Taunton, who makes a capital squire; then to Torquay for three days (with a daughter of Sir William Hooker, and her husband, Dr. Lombe), one of which I devoted to an excursion down the river Dart from Totness to Dartmouth (which the English think much of, but you dwellers on the Hudson would not), and to a view of that quaint little town. On our way back we had an hour at Exeter to see the cathedral; a night and morning at Salisbury, the cathedral as to exterior, site, and all, and beautiful spire, one of the most satisfactory in England; took a glance at Wilton, a peep into old George Herbert’s little church of Bemerton and into his house and garden; stopped over a train at Romsey to see the fine Norman abbey church, and to Winchester, most interesting cathedral as to the interior, Winchester school and the old Hospital of St. Cross. Then, on returning to London, we settled down here, and after a few days were joined by the rest of our party from France.

... No one in England recognized me with my venerable white beard!

Ever, dear Howland, your affectionate ASA GRAY.

The winter Dr. Gray spent in Egypt, in 1869, he raised a full beard, which so changed his appearance that, though eyes and voice were there, his oldest friends did not know him on his return, and he had great glee in imposing himself on his old friend Dr. Torrey, when he went to the station to meet him in Boston, as a persistent hack-driver. Even when he declared himself, Dr. Torrey would scarcely believe him; he and Professor Henry always maintained a man had no lawful right so to change his outward appearance after middle age.

TO R. W. CHURCH.

KEW, October 6, 1869.

... A week ago Saturday Mrs. G. and I went down via Warwick to Stratford-on-Avon, where we had never been, with Professor Flower,[82] to visit his father and mother, whose house (almost always thronged by Americans), a short mile out of Stratford, commands one of the most charming and wholly English views (that of English landscape-painters). On Monday morning Loring and the girls, who had passed the Sunday at Warwick, drove down and took us up, and we saw the Shakespeare memorials, even to Anne Hathaway’s cottage (all but myself, who studied brewing instead), and back to “The Hill” for a lunch-dinner. Then they took my wife and departed to pass night and next day at Warwick. At evening I went by a direct train to Oxford to sleep, seeing first Professor Rolleston[83] for a moment. And, breakfasting with him and his agreeable wife next morning early (his windows command a lovely view), set about seeing all the structures, etc., that have sprung up since the almost twenty years that have passed: the Museum and its workings, the Ratcliffe turned into an admirable reading-room, chapel of Exeter, also Balliol, new buildings of Christ Church, etc. I did not fail to look in upon the quadrangle of Oriel, also, to ask for Mr. Burgon, but he was in France. After lunch I took train, and was in Kew soon after sunset. Since then I have been away one day and one night, with Mr. Rivers of Orchard-house fame, at Sawbridgeworth, Herts....

TO JOHN TORREY.

KEW, October 11, 1869.

I am now almost through with my examination of the Polemoniaceæ, for which I brought over all mine here. I have got them into good shape, settled many things only to be determined here, and have a clear and definite idea as to what I would do with the genera, and have straightened out the species.

October 31.

After so long a drought--as happens in some climates--when the change comes, you pour refreshingly. But with all your three rapidly following letters not one of them makes the least reference to my letter, written for one special purpose.

Bennett is as pleasant as ever. When I go up next to British Museum I will give your regards.

Old Gray (J. E.), who has ever been particularly kind to us, has had a paralytic stroke, which, with other infirmities, seemed about to close his life. But he is wonderfully rallying....