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.