yard on one side, but found the further passage, opening into the principal street, stopped up by the ruins of the opera-house, one of the solidest and most magnificent buildings of the kind in Europe, and just finished at a prodigious expense; a vast heap of stones, each of several tons weight, had entirely blocked up the front of Mr. Bristow's house, which was opposite to it, and Mr. Ward, his partner, told me the next day, that he was just that instant going out at the door, and had actually set one foot over the threshold, when the west end of the opera-house fell down, and had he not in a moment started back, he should have been crushed into a thousand pieces.

"From here I turned back, and attempted getting by the other way into the great square of the palace, twice as large as Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, one side of which had been taken up by the noble quay I spoke of, now no more; but this passage was likewise obstructed by the stones fallen from the great arched gateway. I could not help taking particular notice, that all the apartments wherein the royal family used to reside, were thrown down, and themselves, without some extraordinary miracle, must unavoidable have perished, had they been there at the time of the shock. Finding this passage impracticable, I turned to the other arched-way which led to the new square of the palace, not the eighth part so spacious as the other, one side of which was taken up by the Patriarchal church, which also served for the Chapel Royal, and the other by a most magnificent building of modern architecture, probably indeed by far the most so, not yet completely finished; as to the former, the roof and part of the front walls were thrown down, and the latter, notwithstanding their solidity, had been so shaken, that several large stones fell from the top, and every part seemed disjointed. The square was full of coaches, chariots, chaises, horses, and mules, deserted by their drivers and attendants, as well as their owners. "The nobility, gentry, and clergy, who were assisting at divine service when the earthquake began, fled away with the utmost precipitation, every one where his fears carried him, leaving the splendid apparatus of the numerous altars to the mercy of the first comer; but this did not so much affect me, as the distress of the poor ani. mals, who seemed sensible of their hard fate; some few were killed, others wounded, but the greater part, which had received no hurt, were left there to starve. "From this square, the way led to my friend's lodgings through a long, steep, and narrow street; the new scenes of horror I met with here exceed all description; nothing could be heard but signs and groans. I did not meet with a soul in the passage who was not bewailing the death of his dearest friends, or the loss of all his substance; I could hardly take a step, without treading on the dead, or the dying. In some places lay coaches, with their masters, horses, and riders, almost crushed in pieces; here mothers, with infants in their arms; there ladies, richly dressed, priests, friars, gentlemen, mechanics, either in the same condition, or just expiring; some had their backs or thighs broken, others, vast stones on their breasts; some lay almost buried in the rubbish, and crying out in vain to the passengers for succor, were left to perish with the rest.

"At length I arrived at the spot opposite to the house where my friend, for whom I was so anxious, resided; and finding this, as well as the contiguous buildings, thrown down (which made me give him over for lost), I now thought of nothing else but saving my own life in the best manner I could, and in less than an hour got to a public-house, kept by one Morley, near the English burying-ground, about half a mile from the city, where I still remain, with a great number of my countrymen, as well as Portuguese, in the same wretched circumstances, having almost ever since lain on the ground, and never once within doors, with scarcely any covering to defend me from the inclemency of the night air, which, at this time, is exceedingly sharp and piercing.

"Perhaps you may think the present doleful subject here concluded; but alas! the horrors of the first of November are sufficient to fill a volume. As soon as it grew dark, another scene presented itself, little less shocking than those already described the whole city appeared in a blaze, which was so bright that I could easily see to read by it. It may be said without exaggeration, it was on fire at least in a hundred different places at once, and thus continued burning for six days together, without intermission, or the least attempt being made to stop its progress.

"It went on consuming everything the earthquake had spared, and the people were so dejected and terrified, that few or none had courage to venture down to save any part of their substance; every one had his eyes turned toward the flames, and

stood looking on with silent grief, which was only interrupted by the cries and shrieks of women and children calling on the saints and angels for succor, whenever the earth began to tremble, which was so often this night, and indeed I may say, ever since, that the tremors, more or less, did not cease for a quarter of an hour together. I could never learn that this terrible fire was owing to any subterranean eruption, as some reported, but to three causes, which, all concurring at the same time, will naturally account for the prodigious havoc it made. The first of November being All-Saints day, a high festival among the Portuguese, every altar in every church and chapel (some of which have more than twenty) was illuminated with a number of wax tapers and lamps, as customary; these setting fire to the curtains and timber-work that fell with the shock, the conflagration soon spread to the neighboring houses, and being there joined with the fires in the kitchen chimneys, increased to such a degree, that it might easily have destroyed the whole city, though no other cause had concurred, especially as it met with no interruption.

"But what would appear incredible to you, were the fact less public and notorious, is, that a hardened gang of villains, who had been confined, and got out of prison when the wall fell, at the first shock, were busily employed in setting fire to those buildings which stood some chance of escaping the general destruction. I can not conceive what could have induced them to this hellish work, except to add to the horror and confusion, that they might, by this means, have the better opportunity of plundering with security. But there was no necessity for taking this trouble, as they might certainly have done their business without it, since the whole city was so deserted before night, that I believe not a soul remained in it, except those execrable villains, and others of the same stamp. It is possible some among them might have had other motives beside robbing, as one in particular being apprehended (they say he was a Moor, condemned to the galleys), confessed at the gallows that he had set fire to the king's palace, with his own hand; at the same time glorying in the action, and declaring with his last breath, that he hoped to have burnt all the royal family. It is likewise generally believed that Mr. Bristow's house, which was an exceedingly strong edifice, built on vast stone arches, and had stood the shocks without any great damage, further than what I have mentioned, was consumed in the same manner. The fire, in short, by some means or other, may be said to have destroyed the whole city, at least everything that was grand or valuable in it.

"With regard to the buildings, it was observed that the most solid in general fell the first. Every parish-church, convent, nunnery, palace, and public edifice, with an infinite number of private houses, was either thrown down or so miserably shattered, that it was rendered dangerous to pass by them.

"The whole number of persons that perished, including those who were burnt, or afterward crushed to death while digging in the ruins, is supposed, on the lowest calculation, to amount to more than sixty thousand; and though the damage, in other respects, can not be computed, yet you may form some idea of it, when I assure you that this extensive and opulent city is now nothing but a vast heap of ruins ; that the rich and poor are at present upon a level; some thousands of families which but the day before had been easy in their circumstances, being now scattered about in the fields, wanting every convenience of life, and finding none able to relieve them.

"A few days after the first consternation was over, I ventured down into the city by the safest ways I could pick out, to see if there was a possibility of getting anything out of my lodgings, but the ruins were now so augmented by the late fire, that I was so far from being able to distinguish the individual spot where the house stood, that I could not even distinguish the street amid such mountains of stones and rubbish, which rose on every side. Some days after, I ventured down again with several porters, who, having long plied in these parts of the town, were well acquainted with the situation of particular houses; by their assistance I at last discovered the spot, but was soon convinced that to dig for anything here, besides the danger of such an attempt, would never answer the expense, and what further induced me to lay aside all thoughts of the matter, was the sight of the ruins still smoking, whence I knew, for certain, that those things I set the greatest value on, must have been irrecoverably lost in the fire.

"On both the times when I attempted to make this fruitless search, especially the. first, there came such an intolerable stench from the dead bodies, that I was ready to faint away, and though it did not seem so great this last time, yet it had like to

have been more fatal to me, as I contracted a fever by it, but of which, God be praised, I soon got the better. However, this made me so cautious for the future, that I avoided passing near certain places, where the stench was so excessive, that people began to dread an infection. A gentleman told me, that going into the town a few days after the earthquake, he saw several bodies lying in the streets, some horribly mangled, as he supposed, by the dogs; others half burnt; some quite roasted; and that in certain places, particularly near the doors of churches, they lay in vast heaps, piled one upon another. You may guess at the prodigious havoc which must have been made, by the single instance I am going to mention: There was a high arched passage, like one of our old city gates, fronting the west door of the ancient cathedral; on the left hand was the famous church of St. Antonio, and on the right some private houses, several stories high. The whole area, surrounded by all these buildings, did not much exceed one of our small courts in London. At the first shock, numbers of people who were then passing under the arch, fled into the middle of this area for shelter; those in the two churches, as many as could possibly get out, did the same. At this instant, the arched gateway, with the fronts of the two churches and contiguous buildings, all inclining toward one another with the sudden violence of the shock, fell down, and buried every soul, as they were standing here crowded together."

CHAPTER VII.-PORTUGAL.

ELVAS. The city of Elvas stands upon a part of the Zoledo range of mountains, which enters Portugal a little above the city of Badajos, and occupies the centre of the large and fertile province of Alemtejo (beyond the Tagus), of which Elvas is the second city of importance. In the peninsula each province has its separate government and local institutions, and is defended by its own troops, who are not removable in ordinary times to the other provinces of the kingdom. The governor or viceroy is invested with large powers, but is of course responsible to the central administration at Lisbon. Each province has, therefore, a capital, where the business of the little kingdom is carried on. The nominal capital of Alemtejo is the city of Evora; but Estremos has been latterly adopted, from its greater security on account of the protection afforded by Elvas, from which it is distant about eighteen miles. The works of Elvas are so strong as to require a large army and a regular siege before any impression could be made; and thus opportunity would be afforded to collect the force of the province to repel an invader. Though ranked the second city of the Alemtejo, it is decidedly the best fortified and the strongest, the defensive works being a chef d'œuvre of the conde La Lippe Schomberg, and a perfect model of their kind. Fort La Lippe, situated on a steep hill at the back of the city, is impregnable except to famine; and Fort St. Lucia in the front, connected with the redoubts on either side, is of sufficient importance to cause much trouble to a besieging force. There are three gates to the city: the Porta d'Esquina on the north, the Porta d'Olivença in the centre, and the Porta de San Vicente on the south, all strongly fortified with ravelins, cavaliers, and counter-guards, forming a curve bent outward. The only gate by which strangers are allowed to enter is the Olivença, because they are thus forced to pass one half of the works, and are exposed to the observation of a long chain of sentinels. From this gate several long and narrow streets diverge into different parts of the city; and though from the main street, or Rua de Cadea, is a perfectly straight line to the gate, the number of openings at this point of entrance to the town, are as perplexing as the streets at the Seven Dials in London, which they somewhat resemble, requiring a person to be well acquainted with them before he can readily hit upon the right one. The Rua de Cadea is a fine antique-looking street, and the remains of part of the Moorish houses and towers give it an air of solemn grandeur and dignity which it would not otherwise possess. The cadea or prison stands at one end of this street, and on the opposite side is the hospital for the townspeople; an excellent establishment, conducted with extreme regularity, and with almost military discipline among the attendants. The sick are placed in wards, although separate apartments are prepared for those suffering from infectious diseases. The hospitals of Portugal are decidedly the best

regulated establishments in the country. The street of the cadea forms the boundary of the ancient Moorish town; remains of the old walls may be traced from end to end; and several fine towers raise their embattled walls above the houses. The ancient interior gateways still exist, and through one of these we enter the praça, or great square (as represented in our engraving, p. 173). To a casual observer the praça of Elvas would present no object worthy of attention, except, perhaps, the singularly-formed tower to the cathedral or see, which stands at the upper end; but on closer inspection, the peculiar forms and construction of the various houses, exhibiting specimens of the domestic architecture of several succeeding ages, from the days of Moorish beauty and elegance to modern times, can not fail to excite feelings of interest in a mind to which the varying manners and changing habits of a people are objects of interesting inquiry. The two large houses on either hand of the gateway, for the gate itself has long ceased to be, are decidedly Moorish, and there is an elegance about the long open arched terrace in front not to be met with in the houses of a later construction. Several of the grotesque carvings are executed with a richness and delicacy unknown to modern Portuguese art, and though the dwelling-houses of the day are generally erected on the ancient plan as far as possible, yet there is a want of proportion and finish in some of their best buildings of this class, which leaves a disagreeable impression on the mind. The rooms are large, lofty, and paved with bricks, arranged in various figures, and the windows, which are unglazed, admit but a shadowy light from the latticed blinds, which are almost impervious to the rays of the sun. The Moorish houses are better arranged than the Portuguese ones, and have a more cheerful appearance, and the flat roofs and various terraces with their display of flowers and shrubs have quite an enchanting effect. Of course I do not speak of the houses of the nobility, in some of which great taste is displayed, not only in the architectural beauties and domestic comforts, but also in the grounds. The fine climate allows them to adorn their houses, both outside and inside, with the choicest productions of the flower-garden, whose beauties serve to screen many defects, at least according to our notions of perfection. Many of the houses have piazzas in front, which, though increasing the size of the rooms above, add nothing to their external beauty. Some houses of this description may be seen in our engraving. The only use I could ever perceive for these piazzas was for the lazy market-people to lounge beneath, and obstruct the passage with their goods. A little beyond this piazza is one of those remarkable pillars so prevalent throughout the peninsula. It consists of a single block of marble beautifully carved. These pillars stood and still stand before the house of the chief magistrate, and once served as a kind of standing gallows, the four hooks with rings being to hang the criminals upon, while the spikes above were ready to receive the heads of the decapitated traitors. The pedestal stands upon a base of five or six steps, either circular or octagonal. Adjoining to this pillar is the main guardhouse, opposite to which is the governor's house, formerly the bishop's palace. It consists of a long range of buildings, occupying nearly half the square, and communicating with the cathedral.

The cathedral is a mixture of Arabesque and Gothic, in which the Gothic rather preponderates. The exterior possesses not the slightest pretensions, either to beauty or symmetry, except the singular tower, which forms the front. The interior, however, compensates for the want of external adornment, and consists of a nave and two aisles, without a choir; the roof, which is arched, is supported by sixteen columns, and in the aisles, each intercolumniation is occupied by the chapel of some saint. The decorations and ornaments in some of these chapels are extremely elegant, the walls and ceilings being covered with a profusion of gilded carved work, but the pictures are execrable. It is curious to mark the superstitions of the people. Some of these chapels are literally crowded with waxen effigies of every part of the human body, as well as with pictures of sick persons, to whom the saint is appearing, of course in a cloud of yellow, and red, and blue. These effigies are offerings of gratitude to the saint for having effected cures where medical skill was unable even to give relief. The grand altar which faces the entrance is supported by Corinthian pillars of gray marble, which are surmounted by a canopy of crimson and gold silk, beneath which is a large picture of the birth of Christ; the altar itself is covered with crimson and gold silk of great value, and crowded with silver candlesticks. On great festivals, and also on some other occasions, silver busts of six of the apostles and the first six bishops of Rome, as large as life, are carried in the