Chapter XII: Part 12

While they were lying on the shore awaiting the reply of the governor of Astrabad to Hanway’s application for protection, they beheld the forests on the neighbouring mountains on fire, and the wind blowing with violence prodigiously increased the force of the flames, which, blazing aloft in the darkness of the night, exhibited a magnificent but terrific appearance. Permission being obtained, our traveller proceeded to Astrabad, where he immediately waited on the governor, Nazir Aga, who, in the oriental style of compliment, assured him that the city of Astrabad was his to do what he pleased with it. Hanway, however, though unused to Persian politeness, was satisfied at a much cheaper rate, and merely requested the Aga’s protection as far as Meshed, which was readily granted. He now despatched the greater portion of his merchandise on camels towards Meshed, and was patiently waiting for the escort promised by the Aga, when news was brought to the city that the people of the neighbouring districts had broken out into rebellion, and being commanded by a powerful leader, who had taken a body of Turcomans into his pay, designed to sack the city, for the purpose of seizing on the royal treasury then deposited there, as well as on the European merchandise.

Hanway was now in a position of extreme danger. The inhabitants, who considered his presence in the city with so much wealth as one of the principal incitements to the present insurrection, were by no means disposed to incur any peril on his account, and cursed him openly. On the other hand, the rebels looked upon his property as a desirable prey; and as men when in the act of sacking a city are in an ill mood for hearing remonstrance, it was probable that, should the least opposition be shown, they would silence it by striking off his head. He was therefore advised to make his escape, disguised in a Persian dress. But he wisely repelled the idea, knowing well that if there was danger within the city, there was far more danger without. The governor, however, whose case was exceedingly different, had already fled, disguised as a peasant; and the terrible moment was most anxiously expected when the assault should be given and the place carried by storm. On the approach of night Hanway made the necessary preparations for receiving the invaders, whom it would have been impossible to resist, and retired to his chamber, where, having performed his devotions, he delivered himself up to sleep. A smart but irregular fire of musketry awakened him at four o’clock in the morning. This was followed by a short silence; and a few minutes after, shouts, wild merriment, and the loud beating of drums announced the triumph of the insurgents, and the fall of the city.

It was not long before two of the rebel chiefs at the head of a party of men arrived at the house of our traveller, demanding his merchandise, and informing him that the forty bales which he had despatched towards Meshed were already in their hands. They engaged, however, as soon as their government should be established, to pay for whatever they now seized upon, and only required, they said, a short credit. Hanway, like the ancient sophist, was thoroughly persuaded that there was no disputing with a man who commanded forty legions, and therefore, without vain opposition, suffered them to appropriate to themselves whatever they thought proper, excepting one hundred and sixty gold crowns, which he succeeded in concealing about his person. The Persians appeared exceedingly well satisfied when they had, as they supposed, gained possession of all his property; for they are well-bred thieves, who rob, as it were, with a kind of honorable regret and a humane sympathy for the sufferers; but their soldier-like allies, the Turcomans, looked upon the matter as merely begun, and casting a longing eye upon our traveller and his companions, as if they felt a strong inclination to eat them, observed to Zadoc, the rebel governor, “You give us the merchandise of the Russians—will you not give us the Russians also? They will do well to tend our sheep!”

Notwithstanding the disturbed state of public affairs, the breed of honest men had not become wholly extinct. Many inhabitants of Astrabad regretted to behold the distress of the stranger, and being desirous of placing him beyond the reach of the capricious insults of the rebels, not only gave him information, but aided, as far as possible, in enabling him to escape. While this design secretly occupied his mind, he obtained from one of the new chiefs a bill for the amount of his goods, and, upon further application, an engagement to provide ten armed men to escort him to Ghilān, in the vicinity of which Nadir Shah was said to be encamped with his army. The necessary precautionary measures being taken, he departed from Astrabad under convoy of hajjî, his brother, and two sons, with about twenty armed villagers. This holy man appeared to have discovered, during his pilgrimage to Mecca, the full value of earthly as well as of heavenly possessions, and thought that, while waiting for the latter, the being master of the former would be no inconvenience. He therefore exerted all his wits, which had no doubt been much sharpened by travelling, in the concoction of schemes for compelling Hanway to do an act of sublime charity, by reducing himself to destitution for the benefit of a pilgrim. Having it in his power to accelerate or impede, as he pleased, the movements of our traveller, he in a great measure succeeded; after which they continued their journey. The roads through northern Persia are at no time very safe, more particularly for an infidel: but now that the shah’s tyranny had goaded the wretched peasants into rebellion, the danger was infinitely augmented. Accordingly, the hajjî, who understood the character of his countrymen, conducted their little kafilah through pathless woods, over deep ravines and mountains, sedulously avoiding all frequented roads, and causing them to encamp at night in the open fields. During this journey they passed by the ruins of the palace of Ferhabad, once famous as the residence of the Persian kings.

Hanway’s conductors, understanding that Nadir’s general was levying forces at Balfroosh, the capital of Mazenderan, now expressed their determination to proceed no further; but observed that, as he was near the coast, he might perform the remaining distance by sea. “Accordingly, they conducted him and his attendants to a fisherman’s hut on the seacoast: the poor man had only an open boat, like a canoe, very leaky, and barely large enough to admit six persons; besides, it could be navigated only with oars or paddles near the shore, where the surf then ran very high; and the sandbanks, forming breakers, made the sea still more dangerous. He therefore again implored the carriers to furnish horses according to their engagement, but they treated his request with contempt. He threatened to use force; whereupon two of them, being armed with matchlocks, lighted their matches; two others had bows and arrows, and all of them, being six in number, had sabres. Hanway collected his company, among whom were four muskets, a blunderbuss, and a pair of pistols; but as he could not depend on more than two of his servants, after a short parley he submitted to run the risk of being drowned, rather than engage in a fray, where no other advantage could be gained than a precarious use of horses, through a country utterly unknown to him; and, if he should fall, the cause in which he embarked must fall with him.”

Embarking, therefore, in the fisherman’s canoe, they coasted along the shore to Teschidezar, where they landed. Hanway here applied for protection to the principal of the shah’s officers, who sent him a horse richly caparisoned for his own use, and four mules for his servants, with which he pushed on with all possible speed to Balfroosh. On his arrival at this city he was somewhat comforted by the assurance of the Persian merchants, that the shah would certainly make good his loss. But to reach the shah was the difficulty. No beasts, or any other mode of conveyance, could be obtained. The general, unable to oppose the rebels, was preparing for flight; and fortune appeared once more disposed to expose him to the danger of becoming a Turcoman shepherd. At length, however, the governor of the city munificently provided him with a horse, which, though “galled and spavined,” was still alive, and capable of conveying him several miles before he died. Upon this animal, therefore, miserable as he was, our traveller mounted; and, taking leave of all his attendants, with whom he left the rebels’ passport and what money he could spare, set out on his desperate journey alone. His departure was well timed, for the Turcomans were entering the city at the eastern gate, while he was escaping through the western one. “After some time,” says Pugh, “he fell in with a party who conducted the baggage of the admiral, and himself soon followed; but it was not possible for him to keep pace with them. The poor tartar boy, attached to him with more sincerity than his other servants, had followed him on foot; and when he fainted, Mr. Hanway took him up behind him; but before they had rode six miles, the horse’s hind quarters gave way, and they were both obliged to dismount.”

His situation was now deplorable. Knowing very little of the language, and without a guide, it was with extreme difficulty that he once more explored his way to the coast. His miserable appearance, for his clothes were worn out and in tatters, was his only protection. This excited the pity of the inhabitants; and when he arrived at any great river, he was, on pleading poverty, ferried over gratis; for he did not venture to show the money which he had concealed about his person at Astrabad. He at length overtook the troops of the person whom he calls the admiral, who was flying, like himself, before the Turcomans, and among whose followers he found his own clerk and servant. During this rapid flight he ate nothing for nearly forty hours excepting a few parched peas which he found by chance in his pocket. In the night the admiral decamped, intending to abandon Hanway to his fate; but the latter, rendered doubly energetic by despair, and highly incensed at his baseness, immediately followed at his heels. The night was dark and tempestuous; but, by pushing vigorously forward, he once more overtook the fugitive; and having by extraordinary exertions kept pace with him for some time, finding himself quite spent, and urged by despair, he seized the bridle of the horse on which the admiral was mounted, and in a loud, determined tone pronounced the word _shah_. The idea of Nadir brought thus suddenly to his mind seemed to have awakened the Persian from a dream. He halted, and, commanding his vizier to take up the traveller behind him, while another of the company had compassion on the poor Tartar boy, they again renewed their flight, which was continued without intermission from seven o’clock in the evening until next day, in the midst of continual tempest and rain.

Rapidly as they fled, however, rumour still kept up with them, and peopled all the woods and fastnesses around with Turcomans. A detachment of these ferocious soldiers were said to be posted in a wood in advance of the party; the admiral gave orders to fire upon them; and when Hanway came up to the spot he found five Afghan recruits, who had come so far on their way to join the shah’s army, weltering in their blood. They now, without at all relaxing in their movements, descended to the shore of the Caspian, which, broken and ploughed up alternately by mountain torrents and by the sea, was traversed with the utmost difficulty; while the surge at intervals dashed the horsemen from their steeds, and endangered their lives. At length, after a journey of twenty-three days, during which he had not enjoyed one hour of security or unbroken sleep, he arrived at Lanjaron, where he was most hospitably received and entertained by Captain Elton.

Here he remained several days, until, having slightly recovered his strength and refreshed his weary spirits, he departed for Reshed, where, in an interview with the governor, he learned that Nadir was shortly expected to be on the borders of Turkey. He therefore hired horses, provided his attendants with clothes, tents, firearms, and sabres, and set out in search of the shah. On the 2d of March he arrived, almost blind with the reflection of the snow, at Casbin, where he remained nine days, until the influence of spring, exceedingly rapid in those countries, began to dissolve the snow. He then joined a party of soldiers who were proceeding to the camp of the shah, who was reported to be marching upon Hamadan; and all the way as he went along he observed in the extreme distress of the inhabitants the terrible effects of Nadir’s tyranny. An air of silence and desolation prevailed over the whole country; for the people, taking them to be robbers or soldiers, which was the same thing, fled to the mountains, and left them to provide how they could for themselves.

On arriving at the shah’s camp, Hanway pitched his tent near the royal standard; and here, after having escaped so many perils by land and sea, he narrowly escaped perishing by a common accident. One of his muskets went off, and, discharging its contents in the roof of the tent over his head, set the canvass on fire. Without loss of time he presented his petition to the shah, praying to be reimbursed the value of the goods forcibly seized by the rebels at Astrabad; and while waiting for Nadir’s reply, enjoyed an ample opportunity, which he usefully turned to account, of observing the aspect and character of this motley, extraordinary scene. He saw the despot hemmed round by a circle of evils of his own creating, which was every moment narrowing, and threatening that terrible catastrophe which shortly afterward consummated the tyrant’s fate. Every heart was bursting with indignation, and curses were struggling to every tongue for vent, against the common enemy. And could he have looked into the heart of this imperial miscreant, he would there have beheld the vulture of which that of Typhœus was but the type and shadow, feeding upon apprehensions and horrors the most fearful and odious of all earthly things.

Externally, however, the monster appeared to be the _beau idéal_ of imperial splendour. A harem of sixty women, selected for their resplendent beauty; palaces of barbaric grandeur; horses covered with trappings set with pearls, rubies, emeralds, and diamonds of prodigious size; and an army of two hundred thousand men, to maintain which his country had been ruined, and India despoiled, according to the most moderate computation, of one hundred and seventy millions sterling. Such was his condition. Not long after his arrival Hanway obtained a decree of the shah “that the particulars of his loss should be delivered to Behbud Khan, the shah’s general, now at Astrabad, who was to return such parts of the goods as could be recovered, and make up the deficiency out of the sequestered estates of the rebels.”

Having obtained this decree, with which, as it took him back to Astrabad, he was not altogether satisfied, Hanway quitted the camp of Nadir on the 27th of March. The spring in those southern regions being already advanced, the bright pure blue of the sky, “the falls of water from the rocks, the stupendous mountains, far higher than any he had seen in Europe, rising gradually one above another, some with their summits covered with snow, and others concealing their heads in the clouds, formed a delightful scene. The vines were full of foliage, the orange groves perfumed the air with their fragrance, and the gardens were in full blossom.” The beauty of the landscape, however, was almost entirely the work of nature; for the husbandman, not knowing who might reap the fruits of his industry, had ceased to cultivate the earth, or cultivated it with a sparing and unwilling hand. The curse of despotism, the bane of genius and energy, submission to which is the severest evil humanity can suffer, was deeply felt throughout the land, where, however, symptoms of a most salutary and just revenge, the sacred duty of the oppressed, were beginning to manifest themselves in a very striking manner.

Hanway reached Lanjaron on the 5th of April, where, being exceedingly fatigued both in body and mind, he remained with Captain Elton until the 1st of May. He then set forward with six well-armed companions for Astrabad. Their way, during the first part of their journey, lay through a forest, where they lost their path and were benighted on the very evening of their departure; but at length, guided by a light which they discovered among the trees, they found their way to a house which was barricaded with trees. The owner of this lonely mansion, with an inhospitable terror which was fully justified by the circumstances of the times, refused them admittance; upon which, like true Persians, they broke into his house, and, binding a rope about one of his arms, compelled him to serve them for a guide until they had regained their path, when our traveller took care to reward him for his trouble. Shortly after this two of his muleteers deserted; and in the evening, while their beasts were at pasture, a wolf of very extraordinary size, of which there were great numbers in the mountains of Mazenderan, made his appearance, but was driven off by the guard, though not before he had killed a cow. Pallas observes that the wolf is exceedingly timid in summer; but an instance of its courage during the warm months, not unlike the above, occurred to that traveller in Siberia; and the wolves of Burgundy and the Vosges have the reputation, I believe, of being sufficiently ferocious throughout the year. Next morning they overtook a small detachment of soldiers, whose commanding officer, observing that they were pursuing the same route, politely offered his service as a convoy; which being readily accepted, they pursued their journey together.

In this way they proceeded for some time; but the officer being at length compelled to take a different direction, granted Hanway at parting a guard of ten men, who, however, very soon deserted him. Nevertheless he succeeded, after much fatigue and difficulty, in reaching Astrabad, whence the rebels had recently been dislodged. The fate of the insurgent chief excited his compassion. Upon the news of the defeat of his party he had been seized by the demoniacal slaves who now gained the ascendant, who, having cut holes in his flesh, in which they set lighted candles, thus paraded him naked through the market-place, until he dropped down dead through loss of blood. Our traveller, immediately upon his arrival, presented to Behbud Khan, the new governor, the decree which he had obtained of the shah, and received a promise that it should be fulfilled to the letter. This man appeared to have been designed by nature for executing the designs of such a master as Nadir. Seated in his tent, half-surrounded by soldiers, “judging and executing in a very summary way the rebels who were brought before him, one or two at a time. After a short repast, a prisoner was brought who had two large logs of wood riveted to the small of his legs, and a heavy triangular collar of wood about his neck; one of the angles being longer than the others served as a handcuff to his left wrist, so that if he attempted to rest his arm it must press on his neck. After being questioned for sometime about the caravan of European cloths, of which it appeared he knew very little, the general ordered him to be beaten with sticks, which was immediately performed by the executioners with the utmost severity, as if it was intended to kill him; and the scene was closed with an order to cut out his eyes. Sadoc Aga was then produced. In the hour of his short-lived prosperity, while he was a general of the rebel troops, he had treated Hanway with an unbecoming insolence. But how changed was his appearance! When Mr. Hanway saw him last he was a youth of uncommon vivacity, richly dressed, and full of mirth; but now his garb was mean, his voice sunk, and his eyes cut out of their sockets. He expressed his inability to make any restitution of the property, ‘for he had been deprived of every thing.’ This answer the general returned by an order to strike him on the mouth, which was done with such violence that the blood gushed out.”

This scene was very ill calculated to entertain such a man as Hanway, and might, perhaps, have touched even the breast of Shylock with compassion. He therefore retired in silence, leaving the bloody-minded representative of the shah to glut his ferocious appetite for slaughter at his leisure. Meanwhile, the payment for the lost merchandise being made very slowly, Hanway once more appealed to the justice of the governor, who now confessed that a part of the money had been appropriated to the shah’s own use, and, in default of other means, offered in part of payment a number of female prisoners, who might, he said, be sold for slaves. This Hanway refused; and having obtained the greater portion of his demand, he repaired to the seashore, and once more embarked on the Caspian. Proceeding along the southern shore, he disembarked at Lanjaron, and continued his journey by land to Reshed, where, immediately after his arrival, he was attacked by a dangerous disorder, which detained him in that city during nearly two months; after which he invested his money in raw silk, and, setting sail on the 13th of September, arrived safely at Yerkie on the mouth of the Volga. Here, as the Russian authorities feigned to believe that the plague was raging in Northern Persia, he was compelled to perform quarantine during six weeks; at the expiration of which he proceeded by land along the western bank of the Volga to Zarytzin, and thence to Moscow, where he arrived on the 22d of December. Here he received letters from England, informing him that by the death of a relation he had succeeded to a sum of money far exceeding any advantages he could expect to derive from the conducting of the Caspian trade. “Providence was thus indulgent to me,” says he, “as if it meant to reward me for the sincerity of my endeavours.”

Hanway reached Petersburg on the 1st of January, 1745. Here he remained nearly five years engaged in commerce; but at length, the love of gain yielding to the love of home, he quitted the Russian capital; visited the dry dock constructed by Peter I. at Cronstadt; and, passing rapidly through Prussia, Germany, and Holland, embarked in a yacht at Helvoetsluys, and landed at Harwich, after an absence of nearly eight years.

On the arrival of our traveller in London, he went to reside in the Strand, at the house of his sister, Mrs. Townsend. Here, having now entirely abandoned all mercantile pursuits, he lived as a private gentleman, employed in compiling the history of his travels, and in constant acts of benevolence. The application to sedentary employment, which was so little in unison with the former tenor of his life, and which the exercise of his charity was not sufficient to diversify, very quickly injured his health; so that he was compelled for relaxation to travel once more, though his excursion was confined to France and the Netherlands. About this period the question respecting the expediency of naturalizing the Jews was agitated in most of the countries of Europe; and Hanway, on most other occasions just and philanthropic, yielded in this instance to the force of narrow and inhuman prejudices; and argued in a pamphlet, now very properly condemned to oblivion, in favour of the absurd laws by which this portion of our fellow-creatures have been in so many countries excluded from the enjoyment of the rights of man. His other works were devoted to better purposes; he promoted, as far as was in his power, the paving of the streets of London; he laboured to convince the English people of the futility of the fears they seemed to entertain of a French invasion, than which nothing could be more absurd or impracticable; he founded the Marine Society, intended to encourage the breed of seamen; he endeavoured benevolently, but ridiculously, to discourage the habit of tea-drinking; he laboured to improve the Foundling Hospital institution; was the principal means of founding the Magdalen Hospital, or asylum for repentant public women; advocated the cause of the orphan poor; and, by reasoning and ridicule, exposed the practice of _vails giving_, as it was termed, by which a man who was invited to the table of the great was made to pay threefold for his dinner. According to Mr. Pugh, he was incited to the exposure of this abuse by Sir Timothy Waldo. “Sir Timothy,” says he, “had dined with the duke (of Newcastle), and, on his leaving the house, was contributing to the support and insolence of a train of servants who lined the hall, and at last put a crown into the hands of the cook, who returned it, saying, ‘Sir, I do not take silver.’—‘Don’t you, indeed?’ said the worthy knight, putting it in his pocket, ‘then I do not give gold.’” Among the ludicrous circumstances mentioned in Mr. Hanway’s letter is one which happened to himself. He was paying the servants of a respectable friend for a dinner which their master had invited him to, one by one, as they appeared. “Sir, your great-coat;” _a shilling_; “Your hat;” _a shilling_; “Stick;” _a shilling_; “Umbrella;” _a shilling_; “Sir, your gloves.”—“Why, friend, you may keep the gloves: they are not worth a shilling.”

In 1762 he was appointed one of the commissioners for victualling the navy; upon which, finding that an increase of expenditure was authorized by the augmentation of his income, he took a house in Red Lion Square, the principal rooms of which, says his biographer, he furnished and decorated with paintings and emblematical devices in a style peculiar to himself. “I found,” said he, “that my countrymen and women were not _au fait_ in the art of conversation; I have therefore presented them with objects the most attractive that I could imagine, and such as cannot easily be imagined without exciting amusing and instructive discourse; and when that fails there are the cards.” Prince Eugene, who, I suppose, found his companions in much the same predicament, was used to have music during dinner, and, upon being questioned respecting his reasons, replied, “It saves you the trouble of talking.”

Among numerous other benevolent schemes of our worthy traveller was one which had for its object the bettering the condition of young chimney-sweepers, who, besides the distresses which are open to general observation, such as the contortion of their limbs and the stunting of their growth, are liable to a disease peculiar to their occupation, known by the name of the “chimney-sweepers’ cancer.” The extent of the benefit conferred on these wretched beings—the very _Pariahs_ of English society—by the exertions of Hanway cannot be exactly estimated; but they certainly were considerable, and serve to show that genuine benevolence can condescend to commiserate the miserable in whatever position they may be placed. During his labours in behalf of these little “fathers of soot,” as an Arab would term them, he addressed a little urchin who had just been sweeping his own chimney:—“Suppose, now, I give you a shilling?”—“God Almighty bless your honour, and thank you!”—“And what if I give you a fine tie-wig to wear on May-day, which is just at hand?”—“Ah! bless your honour; my master won’t let me go out on May-day.”—“No! why not?”—“_He says it’s low life!_” The idea of a young chimney-sweeper, black as if just issued from Pandemonium, in “a fine tie-wig,” could never have suggested itself to any but a man of original genius.

Pugh, the honest and intelligent author of Hanway’s life, tells us an anecdote connected with our traveller’s history, which I will relate in his words:—“To one of his books written for the use of the poor he prefixed a description of the frontispiece, in which he says to the gentle reader, ‘Here you see the grass grow and the sheep feed.’ The reviewers fastened on this unfortunate sentence. ‘We remember,’ said they (I quote from memory after a lapse of several years), ‘a miller, who quitted his trade to take a public-house, and sent for a painter to paint him the sign of the _mill_. “I must have the miller looking out of the window.”—“It shall be done,” said the painter. “But I was never seen to be idle; you must make him pop his head in if any one looks at him.” This also the artist promised, and brought home the sign. “’Tis all well; but where’s the miller?”—“Sir, he popped his head in when you looked.” Even so,’ said the reviewers, ‘when we look on the benevolent author’s frontispiece, the grass ceases to _grow_, and the sheep leave off _feeding_.’”

Hanway died on the 5th of September, 1786. His last moments were those of a Christian and a philosopher, calm and tranquil, indicating the firmest reliance on the mercy and goodness of God, and a consciousness of a life honestly and usefully spent. It might not be difficult to collect from the history of his life materials for forming a correct notion of his character; but in addition to the information to be derived from this source, Pugh enjoyed the advantage of having lived with him in the same house on terms of considerable familiarity. For this reason, I prefer the adopting of the character which he has drawn, and which appears to be sufficiently impartial, to the maintaining of an appearance of originality, by conveying the same idea in different words:—“Mr. Hanway in his person was of the middle size, of a thin spare habit, but well shaped; his limbs were fashioned with the nicest symmetry. In the latter years of his life he stooped very much, and, when he walked, found it conduce to his ease to let his head incline towards one side; but when he went first to Russia, at the age of thirty, his face was full and comely, and his person altogether such as obtained for him the appellation of the ‘handsome Englishman.’ His features were small, but without the insignificance which commonly attends small features. His countenance was interesting, sensible, and calculated to inspire reverence. His blue eyes had never been brilliant, but they expressed the utmost humanity and benevolence; and when he spoke, the animation of his countenance and the tone of his voice were such as seemed to carry conviction with them even to the mind of a stranger. When he endeavoured to sooth distress, or point out to any wretch who had strayed the comforts of a virtuous life, he was peculiarly impressive; and every thing that he said had an air of consideration and sincerity. In his transactions with the world he was always open, candid, and sincere; whatever he said might be depended on with implicit confidence. He adhered to the strict truth, even in the manner of his relation, and no brilliancy of thought could induce him to vary from the fact. But although so frank in his own proceedings, he had seen too much of life to be easily deceived by others; and he did not often place a confidence that was betrayed. He did not, however, think the world so degenerate as is commonly imagined; ‘and if I did,’ he used to say, ‘I would not let it appear; for nothing can tend so effectually to make a man wicked, or to keep him so, as a marked suspicion.’ He knew well how much the happiness of mankind is dependent on honest industry, and received a pleasure but faintly described in words when any of the objects of his charity, cleanly apparelled, and with cheerful and contented countenances, came to pay their respects to him. He treated them as his acquaintance, entered into their concerns with a paternal affection, and let them know that on any real emergency they might apply with confidence to him. It was this rather than the largeness of his gifts that endeared him so much to the common people. He never walked out but he was followed by the good wishes, silent or expressed, of some to whom he had afforded relief. To meet the eye of the person he had served was to him the highest luxury; and no man enjoyed it oftener. His own misfortunes, I believe, never caused him to shed tears; and if the miseries of others had that effect, which was very rare indeed, he was particularly careful to conceal it. Yet the sight of a regiment of soldiers under exercise, of the charity-children in their annual assembly at Saint Paul’s, the Marine Society’s boys marching to join their ships, or in procession, were objects which he could not resist.”

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ANTONIO DE ULLOA.

Born 1716—Died 1795.

THIS great traveller, as Andiffret and Viguier observe, was one of those men, who, in the course of the eighteenth century, reflected the greatest honour upon Spain. He was born at Seville on the 12th of January, 1716. His family, already distinguished in the navy, began to prepare him from his earliest years for following the same career. His education was conducted with extraordinary care. In 1733 he entered the service, and his progress very quickly exceeded the most sanguine hopes which the first manifestations of his character had given birth to. The first commission with which he was intrusted was the scientific expedition concerted between the ministers of France and Spain, for the purpose of measuring a degree of the meridian near the equator, while another expedition was despatched to measure other degrees under the polar circle, in order to form a judgment of the different parts of the earth’s circumference, by their equality or inequality, and from thence to determine its magnitude and figure.

The province of Quito, in Peru, appearing to offer the most favourable equatorial position for performing this enterprise, which seemed likely to be long and laborious, the ministers of Louis XV. made application to Philip V. of Spain, for permission to send a certain number of French academicians into Peru, in order to make there the necessary observations. Philip referred the matter to the Council of the Indies, and, on their favourable report, the license was granted, with all the necessary recommendations and assurances of the royal protection to the travellers. He moreover appointed two officers of his navy, says Ulloa, well skilled in mathematics, to join in the observations which were to be made, in order to give them a greater dignity, and a more extensive advantage; and that the Spaniards might owe only to themselves the fruits and improvements expected from them.

The two officers appointed for this service by Philip were Don George Juan, and Don Antonio de Ulloa. Previous to their departure, these two gentlemen were promoted to the rank of lieutenant in the royal navy. Having received their instructions, they set sail in separate ships from Cadiz Bay, May 26th, 1735, and on the 9th of July arrived in the bay of Carthagena. Here they found on landing that the French academicians had not yet reached the port, and as they had been instructed to await their arrival at this city, they determined to employ the interval in making nautical and astronomical observations. They were allowed ample leisure by the delay of the French travellers, who did hot join them until the 15th of November, when they all proceeded together, by the way of Porto Bello, Panama, and Guayaquil, to their ultimate destination.

The party set sail on the 24th of November, and reached Porto Bello on the 29th. From thence they proceeded in small vessels up the river Chagre, the current of which was so rapid, that their oars became useless, and they were compelled to push the vessels along with poles. This river was formerly named Lagartos, from the great number of caymans or alligators which were found in it. Its banks, rendered impassable by woods and thickets, exhibited a series of the richest and most magnificent landscapes:—the groves which shade the plains, and extend their branches to the river, the various dimensions of the trees which cover the eminences; the texture of their leaves; the figure of their fruits, and the various colours they exhibit, form a delightful scene, which is greatly heightened by the infinite variety of creatures with which it is diversified. The different species of monkeys, skipping from tree to tree, hanging from the branches; and in other places, six, eight, or more of them linked together in order to pass a river, and the dams with their young on their shoulders, throwing themselves into odd postures, making a thousand grimaces; will perhaps appear fictitious to those who have not actually seen it. But if the birds are considered, our reason for admiration will be considerably augmented.

At Panama, on the Pacific, where they arrived on the 29th of December, their stay was considerably prolonged by various preparations indispensable for the prosecution of their journey. This interval was usefully employed by Ulloa: he made numerous astronomical observations, took a plan of the city and the adjacent coast, and observed with minuteness and accuracy the surrounding country and its inhabitants. Their arrangements being completed, they embarked on the Pacific, and sailed for Guayaquil, which they reached on the 25th of March. Here they were received with distinguished politeness by the corregidor, who immediately apprized the corregidor of Guaranda of their arrival, that he might order carriages to the port of Caracol for conveying them to the mountains.

All things being thus prepared, they departed from Guayaquil, and embarked on the river on the 3d of May, 1736. The extreme velocity and strength of the current, and several unfortunate accidents, so greatly retarded their progress, that they did not reach Caracol before the 11th. “The tortures we received on the river, from the mosquitoes,” says Ulloa, “were beyond imagination. We had provided ourselves with quetres and mosquito-cloths; but to very little purpose: the whole day we were in continual motion to keep them off; but at night our torments were excessive. Our gloves were indeed some defence to our hands, but our faces were entirely exposed; nor were our clothes a sufficient defence for the rest of our bodies, for their stings penetrating through the cloth, caused a very painful and fiery itching. The most dismal night we spent on this passage, was when we came to an anchor near a large and handsome house, but uninhabited; for we had no sooner seated ourselves in it, than we were attacked on all sides with innumerable swarms of mosquitoes, so that we were so far from having any rest there, that it was impossible for a person susceptible of feeling to be one moment quiet. Those who had covered themselves with their mosquito-cloths, after taking care that none of these malignant insects were contained in them, found themselves in a moment so attacked on all sides that they were obliged soon to return to the place they had quitted. Those who were in the house, hoping that they should find some relief in the open fields, ventured out, though in danger of suffering in a more terrible manner from the serpents; but were soon convinced of their mistake, it being impossible to determine which was the more desirable place, within the mosquito-cloth, without it, or in the open fields. In short no expedient was of any use against their numbers. The smoke of the trees we burnt to disperse these infernal insects, besides almost choking us, seemed rather to augment than diminish their numbers. At daybreak we could not without concern look at each other.”

At Caracol they quitted the river, and continued their journey on the backs of mules, through thick forests, along the course of the river Ojibar. When, as frequently happened, they found no habitation near their halting-place, the inconvenience was soon remedied by the remarkable dexterity of their Indians, who running into the woods, quickly returned with branches of trees and vijahna leaves, with which, in less than an hour, they erected several huts large enough to contain the whole party, and so well contrived that the rain, which fell in torrents, could not penetrate them. They now began to ascend the distant roots of the mountains, and felt an increasing coldness in the air. At a place called Mamarumi, or the “Mother of Stone,” they beheld an indescribably beautiful cascade.

“The rock,” says Ulloa, “from which the water precipitates itself is nearly perpendicular, and fifty toises in height, and on both sides bordered with lofty and spreading trees. The clearness of the water dazzles the sight, which is however charmed with its lustre as it falls from the precipice; after which it continues its course in a bed along a small descent, and is crossed by the road.”

The roads by degrees assumed an Alpine character; in some places the declivity was so great, that the mules could scarcely keep their footing, while in others the acclivity was equally difficult. Occasionally the road grew so narrow that there was scarcely room for the mules to pass, while it lay at other times along the edge of tremendous precipices, where, had they made one false step, they must have inevitably toppled over and perished. The extraordinary dexterity of the mules in descending the fearful slopes of these mountains is one of the most surprising things related of the sagacity of animals. The mules themselves are sensible of the caution requisite in these descents; for coming at the top of an eminence they stop, and having placed their fore-feet close together, as in a posture of stopping themselves, they put their hind-feet together, but a little forwards, as if going to lie down. In this attitude, having taken a survey of the road, they slide down with the swiftness of a meteor. All the rider has to do is to keep himself fast on the saddle without checking the beast; for the least motion is sufficient to disorder the equilibrium of the mule; in which case they both unavoidably perish. The address of these creatures is here truly wonderful; for in this rapid motion, when they seem to have lost all government of themselves, they follow exactly the different windings of the road, as if they had before accurately reconnoitred, and previously settled in their minds the route they were to follow, and taken every precaution for their safety among so many irregularities. There would indeed otherwise be no possibility of travelling over such places, where the safety of the rider depends on the experience and address of his beast.

But the longest habit of travelling these roads cannot entirely free them from a kind of dread or horror, which appears when they arrive at the top of a steep declivity; for they stop without being checked by the rider; and, if he inadvertently endeavours to spur them on, they continue immoveable, nor will they stir from the place till they have put themselves in the above-mentioned posture. Now it is that they seem to be actuated by reason; for they not only attentively view the road, but tremble and snort at the danger which, if the rider be not accustomed to these emotions, cannot fail of filling him with terrible ideas.

On the 18th they crossed the summit of the mountain, and descended into the province of Chimbo, where they were met by the corregidor, the provincial alcalde, and the principal persons of the town; and on their nearer approach a number of Dominican monks, with a large portion of the inhabitants, came out with a troop of Indian dancing and singing boys to welcome them. Here they remained three days to refresh themselves after their fatiguing passage across the mountains; and then, continuing their journey, entered the desert of Chimborazo, keeping the mountain of the same name on the left, and travelling, over different eminences and heights, most of which were of sand, the snow for a great, distance forming, as it were, the sides of the mountain. During their journey across this desert they suffered greatly from the cold, the severity of which was much increased by the violence of the wind. They lodged at night in caverns in the rock; and on emerging from the more dreary part of the waste, passed the ruins of a palace of the ancient incas of Peru.

On their arrival at Quito, they were received with splendid hospitality by Don Dioneso de Alzedo y Herrera, who provided them with apartments in the palace of the Andencia, while the clergy and the principal inhabitants vied with each other in their attention and civilities. Among the many remarkable natural curiosities observed by our traveller during his journey is a species of cane, from thirty-five to fifty feet in height, and about six inches in diameter. “From the time of their first appearance till they attain their full perfection, when they are cut down or begin to dry, most of the tubes contain a quantity of water; but with this remarkable difference, that at full moon they are entirely or very nearly full, and with the decrease of the moon the water ebbs, till at the conjunction little or none is found. I have myself cut them at all seasons, so that I here advance nothing but what I know to be true from experience. I have also observed that the water during the decrease appears turbid; but about the time of the full moon it is as clear as crystal.”

The travellers had spent one whole year in reaching Quito, and the first few days after their arrival were necessarily devoted to rest and an exchange of civilities with the inhabitants. They then commenced their operations with measuring a piece of ground, which was to be the base of the whole work, and in this the remainder of the year 1736 was consumed. The plain of Yaruqui, selected for this purpose, is situated one thousand four hundred and ninety-four feet lower than Quito, and is four leagues to the north-east of that city. “The quality, disposition, and lower situation, all contribute to render it less cold than Quito. Eastward it is defended by the lofty cordillera of Guamani and Pambamarca, and westward by that of Pichincha. The soil is entirely sand; so that besides the heat naturally resulting from the direct rays of the sun, it is increased by the rays being reverberated by the two cordilleras: hence it is also exposed to violent tempests of thunder, lightning, and rain. But being quite open towards the north and south, such dreadful whirlwinds form here that the whole interval is filled with columns of sand, carried up by the rapidity and gyrations of violent eddy winds, which sometimes produce fatal consequences; one melancholy instance happened while we were there—an Indian, being caught in one of these blasts, died on the spot. It is not indeed at all strange that the quantity of sand in one of these columns should totally stop all respiration in any living creature who has the misfortune of being involved in it.”

The daily labour of the whole party was measuring the length of this plain in a horizontal direction, while the inequalities of the ground were at the same time corrected by means of a level. They commenced their task early in the morning, and, unless when interrupted by bad weather, or the too intense heat of the sun at noon, continued actively employed until the evening. The plain of Cazambe had first been made choice of; but after a short trial, during which M. Couplet, one of the French academicians, died suddenly, this position was abandoned. It was now determined, therefore, to continue the series of triangles to the south of Quito, and the whole company dividing itself into two parties, the one to which Don George Juan was attached proceeded to the mountain of Pambamarca, while Ulloa, La Condamine, and Bouguer climbed up to the highest summit of Pichincha. “Our first scheme,” says Ulloa, “for shelter and lodging in these uncomfortable regions, was to pitch a field-tent for each company; but on Pichincha this could not be done, from the narrowness of the summit, and we were obliged to be contented with a hut, so small that we could hardly all creep into it. Nor will this appear strange if the reader considers the bad disposition and smallness of the place, it being one of the loftiest crags of a rocky mountain, one hundred toises above the highest part of the desert of Pichincha. Such was the situation of our mansion, which, like all the other adjacent parts, soon became covered with ice and snow. The ascent up this stupendous rock, from the base, or the place where the mules could come to our habitation, was so craggy as only to be climbed on foot, and to perform it cost us four hours’ continual labour and pain, from the violent efforts of the body, and the subtilty of the air—the latter being such as to render respiration difficult. It was my misfortune, when I climbed something above half-way, to be so overcome that I fell down, and remained a long time without sense or motion, and, I was told, with all the appearances of death in my face. Nor was I able to proceed after coming to myself, but was obliged to return to the foot of the rock, where our servants and instruments remained. The next day I renewed the attempt of climbing the rock, though probably I should have had no better success than before, had not some Indians assisted me in the most steep and difficult places.”

The picture which Ulloa has given of their extraordinary manner of living would lose so much of its interest by being transferred into any other language than his own, that I cannot resist the temptation to continue the narrative in his words: “We generally kept within one hut,” says he; “indeed, we were obliged to do this, both on account of the intenseness of the cold, the violence of the wind, and our being continually involved in so thick a fog that an object at six or eight paces was hardly discernible. When the fog cleared up, the clouds, by their gravity, moved nearer to the surface of the earth, and on all sides surrounded the mountain to a vast distance; representing the sea, with our rock like an island in the centre of it. When this happened, we heard the horrid noises of the tempests, which then discharged themselves on Quito and the neighbouring country. We saw the lightning issue from the clouds, and heard the thunders roll far beneath us; and while the lower parts were involved in tempests of thunder and rain, we enjoyed a delightful serenity; the wind was abated, the sky clear, and the enlivening rays of the sun moderated the severity of the cold. But our circumstances were very different when the clouds arose; their thickness rendered respiration difficult; the snow and hail fell continually; and the wind returned with all its violence; so that it was impossible entirely to overcome the fears of being, together with our hut, blown down the precipice on whose edge it was built, or of being buried under it by the daily accumulation of ice and snow.