Constantinople itself surpassed even his high-wrought expectations, as seen, first from the Asiatic heights, and afterwards on approaching it from the water. His journals are full of enthusiastic description; and in after life he often spoke of it as “the most glorious view in the world.” In spite of all difficulty he managed to see it thoroughly, both as to its architecture, and as to its Turkish life: but again his pencil was too busy to give much time for the use of his pen. Except to testify his impression of the magnificence of St. Sophia, there is little record or criticism of individual buildings. He spent a month of never-forgotten interest and enjoyment in the city, and then prepared to turn homewards, in August, 1818.
Once more an opportunity presented itself which could not be passed by. Mr. David Baillie, whom he had met at Athens, was preparing for a journey to the East; and, struck by the beauty of Mr. Barry’s sketches, he offered to take him, at a salary of 200l. a year, and to pay all his expenses, in consideration of retaining all the original sketches he might make. The artist was to be allowed to make copies for himself. The offer was too tempting to be refused,[12]
for it gave him his only opportunity of visiting Egypt and Syria, and of doing so with a man of high cultivation and refinement, who treated him at all times with great kindness and liberality. He hesitated but little; and set out on September 12th, full of delight and expectation.
The third period of his travels was more important to him than all which had gone before. “Egypt,” he remarked, “is a country which, so far as I know, has never yet been explored by an English architect.” Besides the members of the French Institute, only Captains Irby and Mangles, and Belzoni, had gone before him. He felt keenly the novelty and magnificence of the scene thus opened to him. The remains of Egyptian architecture made a far deeper impression upon him than all Italy and Greece combined; and from this time architectural study seems to have assumed in his mind that predominant and almost exclusive influence which it never lost. His journals are kept with far greater accuracy and copiousness. Every great temple is described in outline and in detail, with notes of its present condition, and of the traces of its former greatness. His observation seemed to be stimulated, without being overwhelmed, by the inexhaustible profusion and magnificence of the Egyptian remains. He must certainly have thought of publishing to the world the information he had so carefully collected on a field hitherto little known, and engrafting on it the criticism and evolution of principles, which in the whirl of ceaseless change and activity he had no time to record in his journals. That intention bore no immediate fruit; but the effects of the study sank deep in his own mind. It is hardly too much to say that he entered Egypt merely under the influence of vague artistic interest, and left it with the leading principles of his architectural system fixed for ever.
They passed first through the Troad, and thence by Assos and Pergamus to Smyrna, a brief journey, but one which was remarkable for the varied associations of legendary, classical, Byzantine, and modern times, such as perhaps no other part of the world can offer. Thence they sailed (with Messrs. Godfrey and Wyse) to Alexandria.
The impression then made by Mehemet Ali’s government of Egypt was very much the same which after experience has confirmed. It was a wonderful contrast with Turkish lawlessness; the country was well ordered, and perfectly open to Europeans; public works of all kinds were progressing; commerce and agriculture were pushed on under the guidance of European science, and with all the power of a despotic government. But there was another side to the picture: the pasha urged on his work in utter disregard of the rights, happiness, or lives of his subjects; “in fact,” he was “the chief merchant in Egypt, and did not mind sacrificing all other interests to his own.” The natural results among the people were infinite distress, and a deep though impotent hatred of the Government, solaced only by the common belief that the English (whose glory in Egypt was still fresh) would soon seize and emancipate the country.
Cairo itself was a remarkable evidence of the state of Egypt. The busy crowds of all nations which streamed through its streets, “from the stately Turk to the half-naked and miserable Arab,” gave proof of a vigour and activity very different from the listless and apathetic aspect of most Turkish cities. In the city itself, though it seemed peculiarly Oriental in its general sombreness of aspect, relieved by “bursts of Saracenic magnificence,” yet buildings in European style, and silk and cotton manufactures under European guidance, indicated the quarter whence this vivifying influence came. There was no danger of molestation in sketching here, for, though the city was full of rejoicing and illuminations for Ibrahim Pasha’s victory over the Wahabbees, the strong hand of the Government, which left its bloody traces here and there visible in the streets, effectually checked the spirit of turbulence. The whole country was full of life and energy and progress, but its progress was maintained by force and purchased by misery.
From this point the journals contained a careful and elaborate description of the journey up the Nile. The first place noticed especially is Siout (Lycopolis?), where they landed to obtain permission from Ibrahim Pasha to visit Upper Egypt, and to examine the great catacombs; of these Mr. Barry made a careful ground-plan, as well as a sketch of the frontispiece. To the S.E. of the catacombs they saw “a kind of amphitheatre formed by the mountains, the whole of which was perforated for tombs, one range rising above another.” There was a beautiful contrast between the “gloom of this city of the dead” and the view from the height overlooking it, over the “rich plain of the Nile, level as water, and in the highest cultivation, mostly covered with the rising crops, now of a beautiful green, and laid out” (as of old) “with geometrical exactness.”
From this point the ruins of temples began to show themselves, and on November 29th they came in sight of the great temple of Dendera, lying “on a low ridge of land all in shadow, with a pretty foreground of palm-trees, and the Libyan mountains in the distance.” Full of excitement they hurried on shore to see this first specimen of Egyptian grandeur. “It astonished us,” he says, “by its unexpected magnitude, and gave me a high idea of the skill and knowledge of the principles of architecture displayed by the Egyptians. There is something so unique and striking in its grand features, and such endless labour and ingenuity in its ornaments and hieroglyphics, that it opens to me an entirely new field. No object I have yet seen, not even the Parthenon itself (the truest model of beauty and symmetry existing), has made so forcible an impression upon me. The most striking feature of the building is its vast portico, six columns in front and four in depth, giving a depth of shadow and an air of majestic gravity such as I have never before seen.”
As soon as the first impressions of the grandeur of the great temple had passed away there followed, as usual, a most accurate examination of the whole. The three temples are described with the greatest exactness, every dimension, even of the details, being carefully recorded. All stood before them in complete preservation, in spite of the 4000 years which had passed over the scene. “Even the hieroglyphics and the most delicate parts of the ornamentation were as sharp and vigorous as when they were first executed.” All was studied con amore. He seems to have been especially struck with the variety and beauty of the Egyptian capitals, all of which he sketched and criticised, evidently seeking to emancipate himself from the limits of the five orders, and longing for greater variety and scope for imagination.