THE KNIGHTS' TOWER AT RHODES.

305

deserve for it this appellation. Our position was delightful; high walls shut us out from the sea; on our right was the tall stately form of the knights' tower, washed on the one side by the calm water of the harbour, whose only motion arose from the impetus of the passing bark, and on the other beaten by the rolling swell that dashes up its base.

This square tower is memorable, not only on account of its being one of the most beautiful of its age, but because within it was made the last stand of chivalry in the east; and around it took place the last struggle between Christianity and Mohammadanism at the close of the crusades. Several other towers and castles, both round and square, raise their heads above the surrounding battlements, and in front is a handsome quay, which generally presents a scene of great and varied interest; being crowded with the natives of many lands, differing in costume, language, and appearance, yet all engaged in that common pursuit of mankind-gain. Some sheds and coffee-houses, shaded by an aged plane tree, relieve the monotony of the line of dead wall that forms the back ground of this landing-place.

The British consular agent, Mr. Wilkinson, sent his dragoman on board, a venerable old Jew, who had served Sir Sidney Smith in a similar capacity. With him we proceeded into the town, passing through the gate of St. John, a noble specimen of its

306

THE STRADA CAVALIÈRE.

kind, and perhaps the most perfect of its day now existing; combining with great beauty of architectural adornment, every mode of defence that the ingenuity of the designer could devise, or the warfare of the period require. The town of Rhodes is beautiful in itself, and finely situated; and we may still take up the theme of the ancients, and praise it for the regularity of its streets, which are laid out with more accuracy, are kept cleaner, and have a more christianized air about them than any Turkish town I ever

saw.

But, of the many objects of interest and antiquity in this most interesting place, all fall into comparative insignificance before the Strada Cavaliére, (the Street of the Knights,) which is situated nearly in the centre of the town, rising up a gentle ascent, and consists of a row of palaces on both sides, leading to the gothic ruins of what was once the council-hall of Asiatic chivalry. An arch is thrown across the upper end of the street, as if to heighten the effect, and by carrying the eye through a vista, to concentrate it upon this building. The pavement of this street is very peculiar; it is similar to that at Pompeii, and is the most perfect I have ever seen; indeed, I do not think that a single stone has been stirred for the last 300 years. It is constructed of large blocks of stone, forming a smooth raised pathway, or trottoir, in the centre, and one on either side; between which is a rough pavement of smaller stones. The palaces on either hand bear the escutcheons of their original owners, emblazoned in white marble tablets, set in the walls over the entrances. With few exceptions, these are in most perfect preservation; and as they consist of the armorial bearings of many of the proudest and most ancient families of France, Spain, and Italy, they offer a study to the heraldic antiquary, which, for interest and variety, is unequalled. But many a noble name, and many a daring cavalier, whose feats, performed upon the plains of Palestine, or in the lists of Europe, were set forth, and still remain upon the walls of the Strada Cavaliére, have been effaced from the world's peerage by the axe or confiscation. The dates attached are mostly about 1500, or from 1490 to 1520 A. D.

Around the doors and the remains of the windows are some splendid specimens of arabesque and fret-work. The tops and upper stories of many of these buildings are now no more, and the window-spaces are filled by close lattices, which are fre

A DREAM OF THE PAST.

307

quently replaced by bundles of rags; while the squalidness and misery that appear within, contrast but ill with the empty grandeur of those memorials of proud deeds of arms, gathered in the breach or on the battle-field, still emblazoned on the walls without. From the dryness of the atmosphere, no moss or lichen had gathered upon the tablets; yet numerous creepers hang in graceful festoons around them, or have entwined themselves among the mouldings and fret-work.

The council-hall is now a roofless crumbling pile; yet, though deserted and unnoticed, its noble pointed arches, clustered pillars, and groined-roofed passages, remain to teach the artist, and to charm the antiquary of the present day, as doth the remembrance of the men that built it call up the valour, arouse the spirit, and nerve the arm of the modern soldier. What scenes must not those walls have witnessed, when within them sat the conclave of the knights and Christian princes, clad in all the panoply of war! What tales could they not whisper, what volumes could they not indite! But all, all now is ruin and decay; and where of old the silken banner of the Red-cross Knight fluttered proudly in the breeze, the henbane rears its head, and waves the lonely banneret of the present. Adjoining this place is an extensive mosque, formerly the Christian chapel, and still containing the tomb of one of the grand masters.

So deserted a street within so populous a town I could not have believed to exist, for frequent as were my visits to it, I do not remember to have ever seen three of the inhabitants in it together. It has an air of stillness, an impressive startling silence, that overawes the feelings of the visitor. The wind sighs mournfully as it sweeps through the rank hemlock that springs from the ruined wall or crowns the house-top, and the footstep of the passer, who hastens through it, echoes among the cloisters of the neighbouring buildings.

During our stay at Rhodes, it was my evening walk; and as I rested on some mouldering buttress or prostrate pillar, while the shroud of twilight closed around me, my waking dreams would conjure up the days, the arms, and the men that once occupied this place and the martial tread of the mail-clad baron, once more rung upon the pavement, and the long mantle of the templar seemed to rustle past me on the breeze; and, again, methought I heard the tones of the minstrel's harp, and the song

308

THE BURIAL GROUND.

of the troubadour, that in other days resounded through those walls, with the love-tales of Europe and the feats of chivalryfor still

"There is a power

And magic in the ruined battlement,

For which the palace of the present hour

Must yield its pomp, and wait till ages are its dower."

Proceeding through the council-hall, we pass to the palace of the grand master, a building of vast size, and originally of great strength; but the greater part of it is now in keeping with the neighbouring ruins, and what little of it is still tenantable is used as an hospital. Beyond this, a massive drawbridge, guarded by a portcullis, leads over a deep fosse, to the burial-ground: a plain of great extent, surrounding the upper part of the town, and at once eliciting the inquiry-whence came such an enormous necropolis for so small a city? But answered by the fact which history records, that sixty thousand men perished before its walls during the memorable siege of Solyman.*

The ancient town is completely fortified, and the works are of enormous strength, combining the defences in use both before and after the general introduction of gunpowder. Among them, and scattered over the town in different places, are numbers of marble shot, the largest I ever saw; several that I examined were above twenty inches in diameter. These were generally thrown from machines. Indeed, I do not know the place that can afford the traveller a better specimen of the defensive architecture of the fifteenth century than Rhodes.

The bazaars are small; and, notwithstanding that its admirable position with regard to Asia Minor, the security of its harbour, the number of vessels in port, and the apparent commerce of the

*In the year 1308, the Emperor Emanuel, upon the expulsion of the knights from St. Jean D'Acre, made them a grant of this island, which they continued to possess until the year 1522, when, after a glorious resistance, the grand master, Villiers, was compelled to surrender it to Solyman. The knights then retired, first to Candia, and afterwards to Sicily, where they continued till the year 1530, when Charles V. gave them the island of Malta.-Egmont and Heyman.

Marino, would lead us to expect a thriving trade, yet there is little or no business transacted in the town, where the people have a lazy, listless air, that is obvious to the visitor the moment he sets his foot within its walls. Its inhabitants are Turks, with about one hundred Jewish families, (for the long-cherished prejudice is still in existence, and no Christian is yet allowed to sleep within the gates); and the Greeks who have shops, or carry on their trades inside during the day, all retire to their own settlement at night.

Besides the palaces in the Strada Cavaliére, there are several scattered through the town, and the cross of St. John meets your eye at every corner.

Some noble plane trees (platanus orientalis) occupy an open space, where are the remains of a splendid mansion, on the wall of which there is a large panel, with the arms of old England emblazoned in good relief. This, in all probability, was the hotel, or place of public resort of our nation, as we know that, independent of their private houses, each of the nations (or tongues as they were then termed) who retired here after the crusades, had such an hotel.

The Greek quarter is very extensive, but daily becoming more deserted, owing to the wretched government of the Porte, the tyranny and exactions of the Básha, and the many opportunities now afforded to its inhabitants, both in Egypt and their own country, for displaying the spirit of enterprise that has never forsaken this ancient people even under the most trying circum

stances.

I know of no place that offers a fairer example of the mistaken policy of the Deewan of Constantinople, than the island of Rhodes, and no place that exhibits a clearer and more lamentable instance of its effects; for although possessing within itself every capability of becoming what a bountiful Providence intended it should be one of the finest and richest islands in the Mediterranean-with a climate suitable to every production that the wants or luxuries of man could possibly require-with a soil fertile and easy of cultivation-an inland scenery beautified by the monarchs of the forest, and varied by the mountain and the glade-a position which for commercial advantages is almost unequalled, and a harbour such as few islands, except Malta, can boast-it is yearly becoming deserted by its inhabitants, daily