Monthly Archives: May 2013

Sunday, 31 May 1863

Woke at 4 ― but slept again till 7 ― wonderful to say. ― At 8 ― 8.30 breakfasted with Dr. Roberts who is always the same, even & amiable. Φώκιον Μπᾶρφ came in afterwards for a time. As for me, I read (or slept ―) all day: among other matters, a novel ― “Good for Nothing” by Whyte Melville.[1] The weather is very hot here ― & I mean to keep indoors all day. And “bedad” I did: ― lying on a sofa reading Kingsley & other authors.

At 7.30. Roberts & I went to dine with Mr. Wrench.

But previously, R. & Phoicon B. had come in & had gone out for a walk: ―― & they had told me the news such as it is. At 7.30 dined with Mr. Wrench. Φοϐοῦμαι, φοϐοῦμαι[2] I drink a deal of beer &c. &c. But by talking ― alas ― no virtue but a sad necessity ― evening passed by. ― & 11 o’clock by them ― 10 by me ― ever the signal of moving. Very kind good folk.

 


[1] George John Whyte Melville, Good for Nothing; or, All Down Hill, 2 vols. Leipzig: Bernhard Tauchnitz, 1862.

[2] I am afraid, I am afraid (NB)


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

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Saturday, 30 May 1863

8. weeks today from Corfu! ― Rose before 4, (slept well.) Off 4.45. ―

We pass Ἀναφωνῆτρα ― at 5.15. ― always long ugly rocky hills, thinly besprinkled with olives & cypresses here & there: ― corn in patches ― & gray rocks with Σκίνος. At 5.20-25 pass through Πλυμμονηριὰ ― a rather pretty largish village; fruit trees, ― cypresses; ― turkies plentiful ― no dogs ― (which in this island seem all in the city.) Before me is a long upland valley ― meager & uninteresting, ― with “the highest mountain” of no form at the end. Policeman says ― “Α. Γεώργιος being once here, they beat him with stones, & he excommunicated them, & thence forward the Πλυμμονήριans have small families & are all more or less black.[”] ― 5.30 ― to 6 ― an elevated plain, ― usual Greek herbs ― here & there a pine.

Top of Blk. Mountain (Ænos ―) just seen. 6 ― 6.10 ― still high plain ― but all cultivated. 6.15 ― open out towards sea ― long view of Maritime table-land, olive & corn covered: cheerful but not particularly picturesque. 6.30. Μαριὲς.[1] ― smiling fields all about. We stop at a cistern in the shade, & a passing woman goes for the key ― & a jug, or iron basin. After water & 5 minutes rest, we go on at 6.35. One man says ―”Καλ’ ἠμέρα”![2] ― & only one. Dogs mute. 2 other ammazzamenti[3] took place here last week. Turkies. Cypresses, olives, & corn: ― bad stony roads. 6.50. very beautiful [on]going cornfields ― with large old olives growing thereout. Now again stony. 7.10. village of Ὀξωχώρι[4] ― full of Cisterns: we get water again ― broad flat ground ― & very old olives. Pass thro’ the village, gloomy folk methinx: ― & at 7.30 begin to ascend, towards the Mountains ― & leaving the sea. Crossing the shoulders of Mt. Γέρι ― or Βραχίονα;[5] ― the usual sharp gray limestone rocks & a world of herbs; ― a flat table land below, with 2 villages visible ― Γαμπὶ ― & Ἄγιος Λεὸς: ― Beyond all is the sea.

Not quite so hot as yesterday it ain’t. 7.35. go on. walls. always toiling up the toilsome hill till 8.15, when we reach the brow & see Luca below. 8.30. pass thro’ Λοῦκα. More water: G. Cross & answers angrily. Λοῦκα is a village with Cypresses, & some tolerable houses. ― Valley ― & dry stones. Cross a pleasant plain of corn ― peasants cutting & loading grain. {Cisterns & more water[.]

Leave it ― & begin to rise. (Recollections of Abruzzo days, ― & villages.) 9.20. arrive at top of long valley side, & see a small cultivated plain, with the Mt. Sinai Monastery ― Παράγαθος[6] ― surrounded by pines & vines. ((continued at page F.))

May. 30. Continued.

They say there is no one there ― so I don’t know what to do; it is full time to rest. Perhaps better go on to the Monastery: G. is too cross to speak to, & the Policeman is “hard to understand.”

At 9.45 ― we get to the Monastery ― which has a neat & trim appearance, ― & find it shut: ― only a few female peasants, & children in outbuildings. We sit in the Church porch ―― Nothing but water to be had. All the Καλόγεροι are away, & only 3 very dirty women ― one verminous boy, & 8 filthy dogs being the Κατακοῦντες.[7] I don’t very well know what to do. Such a sell as these 2 days giro never was! ―

So I think to go on at 10. This little Monastery is pretty enough in its tufty pine wood, but has not particular interest to make it drawable. From 10 to 11 went in a violent=odious descent between the 2 sides of the ˇ[a] ravine ― & the pale green plain of Zante came out by degrees in a vivid triangle at the end. But when Skopo & Zante were seen they were not available to draw. Lower down, above Γαλάρο, I stopped, sending on G. & policeman ― & drew till 11.20. ― 11.40. I got to the village of Γαλλάρο ― (wh. stands on the side of the hill range facing Zante) ― the Policeman meeting me, & am taken to a very dirty nasty house ― highly fleaful. It is awfully hot, even for me: & the flies are [dweffle]. 12 ― to 12.7. endeavour to lunch, τεγαμισμέν’ αὐγὰ,[8] good ― & also good brown bread: ― but the filth of the table & the flies absolutely prevent any comfort. I put the extremely foul napkin aside quietly ― which the horrid amazon woman ― mistress of the house ― sees, & brings back ― cramming it onto the bread, saying ―

“Ἒτζι εἶναι; Μπᾶ! Μπᾶ! Πάρε το!”[9] ―

The wine is good but too sweet. Hens pervade the scene. Zantiotes please me not, nor Zante much. Ὅμως I am thankful I can bear more than formerly. ― And now ― how to get over these next 5 hours? ― 12.40. I have left the halls that no one swept, & have come out, sitting below a Nollive-tree for the present. 1.15. time grows on, & I am going to move higher up to draw Skopõ. (I gave the queer dry policeman a dollar as I came down the hill.)[10]

1.40. Drawing still on the hill side. 3 more hours to pass. 2. Move again. 2.20. In the vast green carpet of currants, groups of minute white spex appear by my glass. These are peasants working. Towards the Castle hill, villas ― white ― abound: ― and the tall white new Campanile of S. Dionýsios is evident. I sit still continual. ― Breezes below ― beginning at 2.30, & birds twitter. Very silvery twitterers are these in the olives. ― Cephalonia is dim & blue. ― It is now 3 ― & must be 3.20. in the city: but as yet no signs are seen of the carriage.

3.15 ― is there a carriage seen?
3.20. there is still hope ― plenty.
3.25. our hopes do not thrive.
3.45 ― nor can they longer strive.

4. I return to the village. No signs of the carriage ― so I go down ― leaving G, & the Policeman to follow, which they do. I draw till 4.30 ― but no carriage. 4.45 ― set off to walk. 5.15 ― (their 5.45 ―) met carriage, which could not have reached Γαλάρο before 6 ― whereby I was in a great rage. The long plain of currants, when new, is pleasing; but wearies after a time. There is so little “country” in Zante ― all is so artificial & villa=like. The Acanthus=thistle grows immensely in the hedges.

Got through that awful long Street, & to Roberts’ ― by 7. Dressed & washed ― & Major Hawes came to dinner. (He is a widower, ― his late wife sister of the Mrs. Yelverton.) Afterwards came Mr. Wrench. I went to bed at 10 ― or 10.30. resolving to sleep no end.

A pretty long disagreeable day!

 


[1] Maries.

[2] Good day (NB).

[3] Killings.

[4] Oksochori (Eksochori).

[5] Mt. Vrachionas.

[6] Paragathos (Yperagathos).

[7] Residents (NB).

[8] Fried eggs (NB).

[9] Is that so? Ooh! Ooh! Take it! (NB).

[10] Continues in the facing page.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

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Friday, 29 May 1863

Rose before 4: out by 5. in a carriage with G. Wait for Policeman.[*] & go “all over the place” to find him. Off by 5.30. dusty roads, ordinary people ― hideous black caps ― fertile plain ― 5.45. Aloes & fine vegetation. 6. Α. Διμίτρι[1] ― Oleanders ― houses & gardens ―― villas & plain ― valley narrows. Views of Κεφαλλένια shut out. Olives & vine cultivation ― Groupes of peasants. White Dog Roses. Squills. Scent of flowers. Cheerful pianura & valley. End of it ― Καταστάρι[2] ― side of hill ― 6.40. walk, Χαρτάτα[3] ― very picturesque. Acanthus=thistles.

7.10. Decide ― to go or not to go up to Ἀ. Ἰωάννης: but to go on to Σπιλαιάτισσα.[4] ― Long plain of Zante, Σκοπῶ behind. Cephalonia fine. Ascent tough & long: meet people who knew me at Sta. Maura. Great ravine & ascent. Pause at 7.40 & drew till 8.10. ― Beautiful ˆ[pale] blue plain. At 8.30 cross plain at top ― wild ― bare. Lentisk. Find cistern. ― Thirst! ― no cup ― water deep. Luckily ― a boy is there with a lettuce leaf curled up quâ cup, & let down cum string. ― Go on. 8.30. ― After this there commenced a long & awful ascent ― over a Πρινάρι & Σκίνος clad hill, lasting till 9.15. ― Morning very hot. ― Then a gully & a hillside brought us to Σπιλειότισσα at 9.30. Goodness! the thirst! Peculiarly unecclesiastical looking Καλόγεροι, & the Ἡγούμενος more than all like a very dirty Layman, whom I would draw, but that he is inspecting me. He is 75 ― & has no teeth, so I can’t well understand him. Ὅμως he hath good wine, & eggs are coming: he looks like a distracted Gamekeeper, & also reminds me of old Don Vincenzo Mobigli.

Another Καλόγερος has a red handkerchief round a good head, & with bright blue breeches & white shirt is like a corsair or sailor. It is now 10.15.

After much expression of surprise at my spectacles, boots, watch &c., the Ἡγούμενος, who is rather a despotic & vivacious old cove of 76 became quieter, perceiving that it behoved him to behave himself, for at first they suppose that “walking” implies inferiorità of position. How curiously the Monasteries of Athos come back to my recollection! Those so A N° 1 ― these so loose & inferior in matters of dress ― picturesqueness &c. Conceive an Ἡγούμενος of Athos in a jacket & trowsers!!  or one of his Καλόγεροι in blue tights & a red handkerchief!!!!!!

“Αὐτοί οἱ Λώρδοι ταξιδεύουν πάντοτε πεζῶς,”[5] says the older of the 2 Καλόγεροι[.] The table is laid for lunch ― Caviare ― olives & other orthodox diet dishes reign in the middle, eggs for me & George, who is tired & braves the damnatory hints of the orthodox. The Ἡγούμενος says, on seeing G. put forth his hand egg ward ― “Ποίας θρεσκίας εἶσαι;”[6] G. crosses himself ― takes 2 eggs ― & says ― “Σήμερον φάγω αὐγά.[”][7] ―

All the lunch, besides beet-root, slices of sausage, & cheese was good, with undeniable wine ― really fine. Only one sees that George’s egg eating has upset his position in the eyes of the pious, & when the priests began to banter him about his beard, I came to his help. Lunch lasts till 11.30 ― & now 11.50 ― the room is left to buzzing flies & me.

The toothless old Abbott has gone, & I shan’t stir till 2. P.M. ―

(continued at Page D.)

May 29th continued. (Friday)

1.10. ― Bother the old Ἡγούμενος ― he insists on our waking up & going ― & perhaps he is right. 1.30. having seen the Church, & deposited 4/4, we go. Most vast soundless solitudes of Πρι & Σκι covered hills ― & depths of valleys!!!!! ― 2.15. we wind up a huge gorge, among coarse large ugly rounded hills ― all the remarkable being the vineyard enclosures right & left, & the silvery crystals of the rocks forming the road. 2.50. we have arrived ourselves at Βολύμες,[8] & G. requires a drink of water so we abide. A queer restraint & silence broods over the place. All the priests dress laically: ― the people don’t salute. We have been passing up a long hill side, odious in its monotony, & hot in its armosphere. ― vine abounding. The highest mountain in the island, Γέρι;[9] ― a dreary green & gray affair, ― we left behind: a more uninteresting set of hills one can’t see ― tho’ they are not so fearful hideous as those in Cephalonia viâ Ἄσσος. Ὅμως there is nothing to draw ― nohow ― no how: ― so much for the Ἐξοχῆ of Ζάκινθος.[10] I ἀποφαςίζω[11] to go to Ἄ. Γεώργιος, & to leave out Α. Ανδρέα altogether, for the day’s work would be too fatiguing to do both ˆ[& nothing promises interst or beauty]. ― We go on at 3. Road between walls. & corn on each side ― it might be Corn-wall, & really is not unlike that land near about Boscastle. 3 villages at Βολύμες ― upper, middle & lower ― all very ugly & commonplace. Windmills, (A woman was murdered today at the upper Βολύμες: she was found shot in bed: ― being they say pregnant troppo presto:[12] their jealousy is immense here.) We pass to the 2nd village ― a great headland of corn country ― somewhat like Beachy Head all round. ―

At 3.20. we descend to the 3rd village: where are one or two very pretty campanili. 4 ― On our way down to Α. Γεώργιος, ― long rolling semiplain Lentisk Covered hills ― & the “Mountain” Γέρι above afar, ― very formless. 4.20. O dear! ἐφθάσαμεν[13] at St. George ― & lo! I have seen it before & drawn it ― & it is beastly ugly. Therefore, the pretty fine hill & Monastery which I remember, ˇ[& wh. I also drew,] must be S. Andrea!!! Ἀναφωνῆτρα[14] is seen from here, but on my saying carelessly “might we not go on there?” ― G. declared flatly ― “Δὲν θέλω, Κύριε.”[15] Which I don’t wonder at, vû all I have heard about his old master. ― However, we came to S. George ― a dirty=desolate place, with 3 or 4 old Καλόγεροι like fat pot-boys ― no Priests’ dress, except the Ἡγούμενος, a small gentlemanly old man, with a long curl[16] quâ pigtail. He seems disgusted that Wodehouse has sent no letter, as indeed he promised to do. I have gained little as yet by this weary journey, which however is to end tomorrow. One of the Καλόγεροι is like an aged Charles Vacher in tights & stockings: another is a compound of poor dear Anthony Chester & J. Shakespear R.A. ― One thing I have ascertained by this 2° trip to the Zante hills, ― viz. ― that any impressions of what was good or viceversa as to Greek scenery were the same in 1848 as in 1863, for these convents are utterly without picturesqueness either in form or in position ― excepting that of S. Andrea. But, unless I had paid this 2nd visit, I could not have been sure of this. The Coincidence about Κώμης Φλαμπουρίανι is really ˇ[certainly very] curious & I am glad he has not happened to be here, as I really cannot tell how G. might have behaved. || One drawing of Zante ought assuredly to express its immense abundance & luxuriant growth of vegetation; its aloe hedges, ― the white Dog-rose covering parts of the pale green spikes ― its vines ― its corn ― its endless dotty white villas & small houses. Crowds of peasants were coming into the city today as we came out ― (among other the suspected murderers of the woman at Βαλύμες ― with guarding Policemen.) ― but all odiously unpicturesque, ― I never saw such ˇ[more] signal absence of anything like costume & color: ― perhaps the hideous high black cap of cloth is the worst of all ― but the best might come from Wapping or Pentonville as to their want of individuality. Nor, as far as I can see, are either men or women good-looking. || It is now 6. Slept till 7 ― or later. Going then into the reception room ― (bye the bye, the bedroom is perfectly clean & nice ―) another Καλόγερος was there ― Στέφανος, a very leasant & hearty man, who had been at Ἄ. Ὄρος, & wore priests robes. Dear me! how hard it is to talk long in another tongue, if one knows it imperfectly! Later came a supper, most amiably & cleanly set forth: ― a roast fowlet ― of which I ate the flesh & a cat the bones: ― ham ― eggs ― cheese, & excellent Κολοκύθια,[17] with absolutely good wine. The laughing jolly Καλόγεροι seemed to enjoy ˇ[my] being pleased, & I almost could fancy one is Shakespear in disguise. After supper the Ἠγούμενος (Δαμασχινὸς) ― sate with me awhile, & afterwards Στέφανος ― till at nearly 10. I went to bed.

I have poured out nearly the last of my beloved Flea powder. Dogs bark. Moonlight.


[1] Saint Dimitrius.

[2] Katastari.

[3] Chartata.

[4] Spiliotissa, Monastery of Holy Virgin of the Cave (NB).

[5] These Lords always travel on foot (NB).

[6] What religion do you belong to? (NB).

[7] Today I shall eat eggs (NB).

[8] Volimes.

[9] Yeri.

[10] Countryside of Zante (NB).

[11] Decide (NB).

[12] Too soon.

[13] We arrived (NB).

[14] Anafonitria.

[15] I don’t want to, Sir (NB).

[16] The entry continues on the facing page, marked “E.”

[17] Marrows (NB).


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

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Thursday, 28 May 1863

Rose at 4. Out before 5. Up to the little pergola church, but though so early, the flies were awfully disgusting, & drawing almost impossible.

Afterwards, going up high near the castle, drew twice on my way down ― & came in at 9. Breakfast alone ― 9.30.

It is now ― 10.30. Sent letter to Spiro.

Repoged till 1.30 when Mr. Wrench came, & I went with him to Ἀκροτῆρι,[1] & drew twice: one view is vastly lovely, but there is not much variety hereabouts. Mr. Barff’s house or villa ― (née Wynnes’) is pretty[.] Returned & drew from Roberts’s window till 5. R. & I dined together at 7. and later came φώκιονΜπάρφ Mr. Wrench, the unclerical but agreable. He does not ― ὅμως seem singular as to his censures of the Resident. ―

Still later came Phocion Barff, who as he took fluid was less agreable. His grins at the stabbings of the Zantiotes were unpleasant. But I fancy, from all one hears, that G. was right in his strictures on the Zante people, who seem a baddy lot.


[1] Akrotiri.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

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Wednesday, 27 May 1863

Rose before 4: out before 5. Long street of Zante ― [beastly][1] dogs ― tiresome. Drew, ― halfway to the Monastery of Α. Ιωάννης, ― from 6 to 8 ― very beautiful. Then went to a point high enough up to see Cephalonia ― & as in 1848 ― drew it. Picturesque & fine goats. At 11 ― searched ― (in vain,) for any tree by which to sit comfortably, for they dig away a sort of hollow all round the olives, so that ἀγκαλὰ κὰι[2] the tree may be the better for this operation, the man who wants shelter & quiet is not so by any means. ― Lunched ― with G. also: bottle of Zante wine ― Eggs, ― cold mutton & bread, ― the very best things possible ― but there was no good repoging place.

Flies also bored me hideously, & ants: also crowing cox: also screaming children διὰ νὰ φεύγωσι τὰ ὀρνίθια:[3] ― also lots of matters. At last I have taken to sit on the trunk of a tree ― to be aisy.

The sight of the black mountain brings back Cecil Lane to mind ― whom I hope to see again. ― Uncomfortable, but highly cultivated olives of Skopo! ― 1 P.M. going down towards the city ― a a [sic] very lovely breeze prevails. Some fine ― or one fine ― bell ― or bells, si fa sentire,[4] & G. says it is the Campanile of Α. Διονύσιος.

Bother the flies! ― O! blue sea! O cultivated Zante! Sitting on a stone ― that being the only suitable place in these be-ornamented diggings. After we went down I thought a new & characteristic view might be made from the last heights of the Σκοπῶ spur, so I went back, & got up by 1.20 ― & drew; being now down again on the Plain at 2.20. I am surprised to see how beautiful the black mountain is from all this part ― doubly intetesting to me now I know it so well. The plain of Zante is assuredly exquisite, though the flies & small midges drive me mad.

Walked slowly on & met Dr. R. close to the city, with whom I sate & talked a while. Afterwards ― as it was very hot indeed ― I gave up going all round the Castle Hill, & came through the streets ― reaching home by 5.20: & gave up all farther work for today. Repoged & slepp ― & having washed & tubbed, read variously from 5 or 6 to 7: ― when Dr. Roberts came home. Wrench, the Military chaplain here ― dined with us ― a very pleasant dinner & converse.

Bed at 11. Read Gussie’s letter.

 


[1] The word is blotted.

[2] Although (NB).

[3] To scare away the birds (NB).

[4] Is heard.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

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Tuesday, 26 May 1863

Rose at 3.30. ― waked by whistles, & the steamer stopping, & found a thick fog. Which continued, so that we couldn’t get on till 5.30, when the sun riz, & shewed the top of Monte Skopò. So we went on, & now, at 6 ― are entering Zante harbour.

It was long before the Pratica boat came & it was 7.30 before I left the Europa. Zante looked gayer & more beautiful than ever: ― brilliance & elegance are its chief characteristics. Roberts had sent a boat so I went straight there by water, after the forms of Dogana & Sanita.

Found R. very kind & friendly. Found Letters from ― (1) F.L. (2) Daddy Hunt. (3) A. Empson. (4) Gush. (5) Foord: (all the drwings are safely arrived.) (6) Fanny Coombe: 7. Gussie Bethell. (8) a Mr. Timings, a Birmingham admirer. (8) [sic] G. Posidoni. (9) Ellen. (10) Mr. Cave. (11) E.A. Drummond. (12) Lawson. 13. 14. T. Cooper. ― A long unpacking & wash ― & breakfast at 9.15. with Roberts. After this, at 10 went out with him, left name at Residency & called on Lindsay: also bought a book. Then went again to Lindsays, & from 11 to 1.30 made a map of Zante from one of his. Yet I don’t see how I can get to all I want to see here in so short a time as a week. R.’s room is very comfortable ― my bedroom ditto. At 2 ― out with G. to a hill, where I drew Zante till 4: a fatiguing sketch: ― then walked ― examining other places till 6.30 when I came back to Dr. Roberts’s. 7.30. Dinner ― Col. Wodehouse & our 2 selves, & Διονύσιος Μεσσαλὰ, whom I remember here in 1848, & who has now “spent all his money & lives on nothing at all.” Very tired & sleepy was I, & moreover ate & drank according. Colonel W. said he was very very sorry he could not come with me to Α. Γεώργιος, but I was not sorry at all. It seems I may see somewhat of all that part in 2 days.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

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Monday, 25 May 1863

alas for the Demon! Whether these things are gor good or evil, I know not.

During the night the wind & waves were by no means calm, so I rose at 3.30. And at 4 went out with George to the church above the Lighthouse. Considering what a swell there is insided the harbour, I am surprised to see the outer sea so quiet: ― yet, nevertheless it is vexatious to have so dull & semi=threatening a sky. Speriamo.[1] ― At 4.20 I go back to the Deputato’s & have coffee. At 5 again on the rocks above. ― 6 [wasting] still ― no signal ― west nor east. 7 ― ditto ― ditto ― ditto. 8 ditto-ditto-ditto. 8.30. No signal. ― wind increases. Deputy begins to fear that both vessels have gone round by the straits. (Giovanni Κασιματι, deputy of Καψάλι.[)] 10. No signal. Weather suddenly clears ― wind changed. I have been lunching with the above named cove, & his elder brother, & the wife of the Deputy. They are very kindly & civil ― tho’ the elder is a distinct bore.

Slept till 11. No signal yet. ― Immediately afterwards the East boat is signaled, & we embark ― Deputy ― G. & I. with roba & 4 marinari.

No small suffering in a blue but rolling sea before we get on board at 11.4[0] ― on board the Europa; & gladly I saw the faces of last week ― for indeed it was becoming an idée fixe that I must be another week here. At 11.45 ― we are off ― bright sun & rolling blue sea,, too much to be pleasant. At 12.30 we are leaving the S.W. end of Cerigo.

The outward aspic of the island, it must be owned, is werry dry & long: no green, & no houses being visible. At 1 ― we roll. The “Egg” rock is nearly invisible & the long line of Cerigo is fading ― nor can Matapan be discerned ― for the seafogs over the high land at the North end of Cerigo obscure it ― though I once thought I saw Taÿgeτω. 2. P.M. Matapan not yet passed: a sufficiency of rolling. 3 P.M. [nearing] Ματαπᾶν; go down to wash for dinner. 3.15 Ματαπᾶν passed. 3.30. Capo Grosso ― fine outline & detail ― but too much movement to draw. Excitement of passing t’other Steamer ― the Celere, which left Lyra the same time as Europa, but cut across north of Cerigo. We also met the Cephalonia & Zante boat about the same time. 4. dinner ― very good & pleasant ― barring rolling. 4.30. dinner over. 5.30. rolling sea, but fine everywhere. Talk with English Gentleman come from Constantinople. 5.45. ― 6 hours [Hong Root]. The Evening is lovely to look at, & the Greek Mountains would be so if they were more visible, but the swell of the sea impedes confusing. 6.45. 7. hours out. (But really it is 7.45.) & in about 8 hours more ― or 9 ― we ought to be at Zante. At 8 ― (9) we took tay, but I am stupid with rolling & noise: so at 9 ― i.e. 10 ― bed. ―

 


[1] Let’s hope.


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

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