CHAPTER XIX
1860. DEVONPORT. HONG-KONG
Ordered to China—Embark—“Overland” route—Alexandria—Cairo—Desert—Suez—Red Sea—Aden—Galle—Across the Bay—Penang—Baron Gros and Lord Elgin—Hong-Kong.
On April 26 I had the unlooked-for surprise to receive a demi-official letter from the Departmental Office, warning me for service in China on promotion. The note of the circumstance recorded in my diary at the time was this: “Bitter has been my disappointment on being superseded. In my turn I am now to supersede others; but the system is not the less cruel to those who suffer by it.” The promotion so indicated implied that I was about to pass over an entire grade,[211] including its members, all of whom are my seniors in the service.
Short was the time allowed to make arrangements for my dear wife and children, from all of whom I took leave on May 2. On the following day I received further orders in London, and proceeded to Southampton; on 4th embarked on board the P. and O. steamer Ripon; by 2 p.m. we were on our voyage.
The “Overland” route was now before us, its attractions and incidents new to me. The bold coast scenery of Portugal, towns, forts, and convents succeeded each other at short intervals; Mondego Bay; Mafra, near to which the “lines” of Torres Vedras were begun, by England’s great commander. Then the Spanish coast with its vineyards and olive groves, villages and hamlets; Tarifa, at the siege of which by the French, in 1811–12, the 87th Regiment gained distinction by repelling the assailants under General Laval,[212] the old Moorish walls of that town being clearly seen by us. Now came into view, on our right, Ceuta, far away behind which rose peaks of the Atlas range; the great rock and fortress of Gibraltar, between it and Africa the “gut” some twelve miles broad; then we are in the comparatively wide expanse of the “blue Mediterranean.” Rising to a height of 11,000 feet, the Sierra Nevada, white with snow and magnificent in outline on our left, the chilly breezes from which now swept across our track. Next, passing close by the Cane rocks, where since the previous January a lighthouse was established; then the sight of the Gulf of Tunis carried historical associations back to Carthage and its wars. The island of Pantellaria, pretty to view from the distance, but as a penal settlement for Sicilian convicts, it is in all probability less agreeable as a place of residence. Then, on our right, Gozo, the cultivated terraces on which could be distinctly seen through our binoculars; otherwise the island looked treeless and bare, the most prominent objects upon it a succession of fortifications, for it is garrisoned by British troops. Yet, bare as it seems, Gozo is said to be a “garden” whence fruit and vegetables are chiefly supplied to Malta. Now we approach that island, the densely crowded town of Valetta comes in sight; we enter the harbour, ramparts and bastions on either side of us, the monotony of the town buildings interrupted by spires and pinnacles; every building dazzling white. As the anchor drops, we know that our stay is to be brief; a hasty run ashore, a visit to St. John’s Cathedral, the Armoury, one or two other places of interest, then we resume our journey eastward.
Alexandria was our next point of interest. As in the early hours of morning we approached that historical port and city, the lighthouse, the numerous windmills along the shore line, were the distinctive objects first seen; as we entered the harbour, the Lazaretto, seraglio and palace of the Sultan were on our left. Ships of all nations, but the majority British, swing at anchor in our near proximity. A steamer conveyed us to the railway station, whence by train to Cairo, passing on our way an extensive line of ruins of the ancient aqueduct of Alexandria, destroyed by Diocletian, A.D. 296; the station of Meyrout, the name indicating Mæotis, the lake or reservoir so named being indicated by a succession of shallow pools, on some of which “sportsmen” were engaged in shooting water-birds of sorts; then the windings of the Mahmoodieh Canal to our left; fields of bearded wheat and barley ready for the sickle, while in some few places “thrashing floors” were extemporised, oxen unmuzzled engaged on them, as in the days of the patriarchs. Crossing the Nile at Kafr ez Zajyat, the first glimpse of that sacred stream was obtained; then the Pyramids of Ghizeh came in view, recalling to our minds many associations connected with their wonderful history; then early in the afternoon we were at Cairo.
El Kahira, “the Beautiful”! Under the guidance of a dragoman from the hotel where a brief stay was made, we started to explore the city. Winding our way through narrow streets, named respectively the Turkish, French, and Greek Bazaars, opportunity was given to observe the manners and strange variety of persons and costumes in those places. Having visited various smaller mosques, we ascended to the Citadel, the work of Saladin, A.D. 1176, but interesting not so much in itself as for the famous mosque of alabaster contained within it, that edifice erected by Mahomed Ali, and now forming his tomb. The portion of the citadel wall whence, on the occasion of the massacre of the Mamelukes by order of that monarch in March, 1811, Emir Bey leaped his horse to a depth of 60 to 80 feet, then succeeded in effecting his escape, was carefully scanned. At a little distance from it we stood in the palace yard in which 700 doomed Beys, having been treacherously invited to a pretended marriage, were shot down from loopholes around, while in a window pointed out to us the Pasha sat looking on, and quietly enjoying his chebouk. From the walls we readily followed by the eye the Nile, winding and flowing smoothly on as in the days of the Pharaohs. Green with vegetation was the island of Rhodda, upon which, B.C. 1517, the infant Moses was found by Thermuthis, the king’s daughter;[213] in the distance the plain of Bussateen, upon which tradition records that the Israelites encamped in the first day of their flight. Further away were the Pyramids of Sakarah and Dahshur. Beyond them the haze seemed to blend with the desert.
Next day the passengers via Marseilles arrived, and the whole party of us resumed our journey. It was not long until our train had entered the desert, extending far as the eye could reach; in some places varied by sandhills of different sizes, in others flat, but everywhere destitute of vegetation save a few stunted bushes. In the bright sunshine the mirage glittered deceptively, presenting the appearance of sea and islands, to vanish in their turn as we approached them. A few short halts at stations, and we detrain at Suez, to resume our journey by sea; we have completed the “overland” portion of it.
Suez, supposed to be the ancient Arsinoe, was interesting for the reason that in our approach thereto we had an opportunity of observing the line of retreat assigned by tradition to the Israelites in their flight from their oppressors. But now our movements were hurried; we were quickly on board the Colombo, ready waiting for us in the gulf, and so away we steamed towards the Red Sea.
Our progress was uneventful during the five days occupied in traversing that much-dreaded track. The temperature of air and sea rose to a higher point than we had yet experienced; the numerous islands, the greater number destitute of lighthouses, were material proofs of dangers to navigation by night—a danger rendered the more significant as we steamed close past a rock on which a P. and O. vessel[214] had shortly before been wrecked. As we passed the position of Mocha, binoculars revealed to us the white houses, minarets, pillars, and balconies of that Arabian town.