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THREE MONTHS ABROAD.

    A JOURNEY
    TO
    CRETE, CONSTANTINOPLE, NAPLES,
    AND FLORENCE.

    THREE MONTHS ABROAD.

    BY
    ANNA VIVANTI.

    LONDON:
    PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION.
    1865.





Dedication.

TO MY HUSBAND.


    To Thee, whose hand has kindly led me forth
      Far o'er the land, across the deep blue sea,
    Whose care and love watch'd o'er me every where,
      I dedicate this little History.

    May it recall to thee the motley crowd
      Of strange and kindly people we have seen,
    The golden days of the enchanted Isle,
      How wondrous bright and happy they have been.

    The smiling Bosphorus and grand Stamboul,
      The glorious bay of beauteous Napoli,
    The festive days at Florence,--and accept
      This as a sign of gratitude from me.

    LOWER NORWOOD,
        _Dec. 1st, 1865._




CONTENTS.


                                        PAGE
    CHAPTER I.
    FROM LONDON TO CRETE                   1

    CHAPTER II.
    CRETE, OR THE ENCHANTED ISLAND        40

    CHAPTER III.
    CONSTANTINOPLE                        90

    CHAPTER IV.
    FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO FLORENCE      126

    CHAPTER V.
    THE DANTE FESTIVAL AT FLORENCE       157




THREE MONTHS ABROAD.

CHAPTER I.

FROM LONDON TO CRETE.

    "O Wandern, Wandern, meine Lust! O Wandern."
                                        _W. Mueller._


It was on the morning of the 18th of March, 1865, that, "equipped from
top to toe," I kissed all my little ones, shook hands with the kind
friends who were to take care of them, and started with my husband on
our grand wedding tour. Yes, this was to be our wedding tour; for the
one we made directly after our wedding, more than ten years ago, did not
deserve that name; and since then we had never travelled without, what
is most properly called encumbrances, not meaning trunks or bandboxes,
but babies of different sizes and ages. Our first wedding trip! Shall I
confess that it did not extend farther than Broadstairs! How times
change! Our wishes were more limited then; I am sure we thought we had
gone quite as far as people could wish to go, for we went by water, and
the weather being rather windy, we were both very nearly sea-sick when
we arrived. But no more of these old bye-gone times, I have other things
to tell. When we drove off, and I looked once more back, my baby clapped
her little fat hands together, and called out, "Lumps of delight, lumps
of delight." A turban! a sword! a drum! screamed the boys, and off we
drove on our way to Crete. Yes, to Crete! where nobody has ever been
that I know of, since Theseus.

But before we got there, we arrived at London Bridge. There we met dear
Mme. M----, whom we had promised to see safely to Cologne. She is the
mother of one of the greatest scholars of our time, and the widow of one
who would certainly have been one of the greatest German poets, had he
not died at the age of thirty-three.

On the evening of the 18th we arrived safely and well at Brussels, and
had a few hours time before the train started for Cologne. So we set out
for a short stroll through the town by gaslight. It looked just as I had
thought it would look, gay and lively. "A little Paris," as it is so
often called. The "Galleries" reminded me of the Palais Royal, and the
people that leisurely walked about seemed as well dressed, and as much
"on pleasure bent," as those of the Boulevards. The shops where
"knicknacks" are sold look as elegant as those of Paris, and in others
there is the same delightful display of fruit and flowers, delicacies,
and confectionary.

I could, of course, not walk through the streets and market-place of
Brussels without thinking of Egmont and Hoorn, and of the splendid scene
in Goethe's Egmont, where Klaerchen calls upon the people to save her
lover. I also remembered the poor sisters, Charlotte and Emily Bronte.
My husband thought of Napoleon and Wellington, and Becky Sharp, and
laughed again at the thought of Jos Sedley's flight from Brussels.

With an appetite stimulated by the walk, the keen March air, and the
very inviting exhibition of dainties in several shop-windows, we