TRAVELS OF A POUND OF COTTON. BY A. MOREAU DE JONNES. We are far remote from the period when men lived and died, like plants, in the spot where destiny had produced them. During the last half-century especially, the human race has been possessed with the mania of travelling. A resident of Calcutta, born on the banks of the Thames, tormented by the jungle-fever, or by the ennui attendant upon wealth, is now accustomed every year to proceed, for change of air, to the Cape of Good Hope, without feeling the smallest uneasiness either concerning the Giant Adamastor, or the storms which terrified Vasco de Gama. The King of the Sandwich Islands pays a visit to Covent Garden Theatre: Russians cross the continents of Europe and Asia to hunt otters in America: highwaymen, escaped from the soil of Botany Bay, become chamberlains to the petty monarchs of Polynesia : Hungarian soldiers mount sentry on the rocks of Sylla and Charybdis: merchants of London occupy the throne and sway the sceptre of Aurungzebe : we have even beheld the savages of Upper Asia rub their hair with the bark of the trees in the Champs Elysées. English ladies'-maids, moreover, with rosecoloured spencer and umbrella in hand, walk amidst the ruins of Thebes, and trample under foot the wrecks of the magnificence of Pharaoh.* But of all the travels originating in curiosity, ambition, or the love of lucre, not one can be compared in the importance of its results, its extent, or the influence which it has exerted, to the mere transport of the produce of a weak shrub,-to the travels which industry has imposed upon the wool of a cottontree, the metamorphoses of which are as innumerable as our wants and desires. A complete volume would scarcely suffice to contain the whole history! let us then endeavour to sketch, in a few lines only, a brief itinerary. Before we thus compress our subject, however, let us consider its real extent.+ From a thousand divers points in the two hemispheres, are conveyed to the British isles and to France, every year, two hundred and eight millions of pounds weight of cotton-wool. England received, in 1823, 167,935,000 lbs. ; and France, 40,755,000. The value of the aggregate importation amounts to ten millions and a half sterling. It supposes a forest of 1,664 millions of cotton-trees, covering a space of 422 square leagues, 25 to a degree. The 806,000 bales which it composes, after being submitted to the strongest power of compression, give at a minimum 161,000 tons of bulk, the freightage of which requires a fleet of 1,600 vessels, and which, if arranged in a single line, would occupy a space of fifty-five leagues. Let us restrict our researches to the two-hundred-and-eight-millionth-part of this immense mass, and accompany it in its various journeys, from its origin to its final destination. In the ninety-five millions of pounds of cotton-wool received into the warehouses of Calcutta, one pound, amongst others of that species termed longsilky, came from certain new plantations in the province of Delhi. The shrub which produced it flourished, at length, and for the first time, in a soil condemned • This refers to an incident mentioned by Count Forbin, who states that he saw the maid-servant of Lady Belmour, in a rose-coloured spencer, with an umbrella in her hand, tranquilly sauntering amongst the ruins of Thebes.-Ed. + It will be readily perceived, that the calculations in the subsequent part of this article are by no means exact.-Ed. The quantity of cotton-wool imported into the United Kingdom in 1823, from all parts, was 180,233,795 lbs.-Ed. * demned for a century back to frightful aridity, but now fertilized by means of an admirable and laboriously constructed canal, more than sixty leagues in length. The husbandman who gathered it was one of those Bheels who were renowned a few years since for the audacity of their incursions and the ferocity of their character, but are now reckoned amongst the most intelligent and hospitable of Indian labourers :† a double example of the benefits which a statesman can confer, who, like the Marquess of Hastings, is able to conceive great things, and to find talents to execute them. Descending the stream of the Jumna to that of the Ganges, and arriving at the rich metropolis of British India, our cargo might receive four very different destinations. Carried to China, it might have entered into the hundred millions of pounds of cotton which England annually sells in the market of Canton, and which, in addition to her manufactures, obtains for her twentyfive millions of pounds weight of tea, purchased at ninepence [eighteen-pence] per pound, and sold for five shillings to consumers on the European continent. Embarked on board American ships, it would have composed a part of those re-exported foreign products which supply the United States with an annual commerce to the amount of six millions and a quarter sterling, over and above the value of their own indigenous exports. Conveyed to Europe, it might perhaps have been converted, in French manufactories, into a fabric worthy, from its elegance and novelty, to obtain the rewards of the Louvre. It took, however, the road to England, and formed a part of the two hundred millions of pounds of cotton which are annually transported thither from Calcutta and Bombay alone, in order to be subsequently distributed throughout all the countries of the world tributary to British commerce. The single pound which is the subject of our present inquiry, having been landed at London, was sent into the county of Lancaster, to Manchester, in order to be spun by one of the 300 steam-engines in that rich and populous town. The perfection of the means employed in this operation is so great, that there were drawn from this pound of cotton 380 skeins of thread, each 900 yards, which gives a total length of more than 340,000 yards, or upwards of 190 miles. After this metamorphosis, it was sent to Paisley, in Scotland, to a manufactory, from whence issues every week 88,000 ells of cloth. The stuff made of it there was carried into the county of Ayr, there to undergo some preparation; then it was reconveyed to Paisley, to be striped by means of complicated, but prompt and ingenious processes. To be embroidered it was obliged to be sent to the artisans in the county of Dumbarton, whose skill is unrivalled in this kind of work. It was forced to make another journey to Renfrew, for the purpose of being bleached, whence it took its departure for Paisley again, to acquire a new shape: it at length proceeded to Glasgow, where it was completed for sale. From this port it was despatched to London, and became one of the atoms of which the colossus of British commerce is compounded. Four years had now passed away, from the moment when the Indian husbandman gathered the material from his cotton-tree, to the period when, transformed by the joint agency of mechanism, chemistry, and design, into a fabric of the utmost beauty, this vegetable product was able to repass the seas with a value infinitely enhanced. Without the aid of the arts it might have merely * The restoration of the great canal of Delhi was undertaken, by the direction of Lord Hastings, in 1817, and completed in 1820. Its length is 180 miles.-Ed. ↑ See Sir John Malcolm's Central India, vol. ii, p. 179.-Ed. merely served, in the shape of a clumsy wick, to assist some scholar in his fruitless nocturnal studies. But by a series of ingenious contrivances, it may now adorn the favourite of the seraglio, please the monarchs of Asia, and captivate the republicans of South America by the charms of European luxury. To acquire it, India herself, which produced it, will give a thousand times the price which she formerly obtained for it; China will suspend its prohibitory laws, hitherto as immutable as its manners; and the mines of Mexico and Potosi will expand their treasures. By what strange concurrence of circumstances have these marvellous effects been produced? It was necessary that the product of a little tree should travel 300 leagues over the plains of Hindostan to arrive at Calcutta; that it should then navigate 4,000 leagues of ocean to reach the British isles; that it should there traverse, by means of canals, iron rail-roads and accelerated vehicles, a distance of 310 leagues; employing, from its transport till its transformation, more than 150 persons, who derived their subsistence from it. For this object it was necessary that industry, availing itself of the prodigies of philosophy, should satisfy its wants by the agency of fire, and render docile the most intractable and most destructive element; that navigation should bring closer to each other the banks of the Ganges and the Thames; that the Mogul empire should become the inheritance of a company of merchants; and that its provinces should be restored to fertility, and its people to civilization, by conquerors, who were but barbarians twenty centuries after the countries of Asia, which they now teach, possessed all the advantages of science, arts, and industry! THE CHOHANS OF DELHI.* HONOUR to Prithwiraja's name! In strains that with their martial fire Make misers scorn their hoarded store, And cowards rush into the fight: Such strains as soothe immortal ears, And Uma's self enraptured hears. What can ensure such sweet reward Wealth and posterity bestows; And though death's sting it cannot heal, Makes others wish the sting to feel. Imitated from the concluding verses of a poem of Chand, the bard of Prithwiraja, the Chohan sovereign of Hindustan. They are by the son and successor of Chand; and refer to the sack of Delhi, and the death of prince Raina-si, the son of Prithwiraja. See Capt. Tod's Comments on a Sanscrit Inscription, &c. Trans. of Roy. As. Soc., parti., p. 153. Asiatic Journ. Vol. XXI. No. 121. E THE THE SOUTH COAST OF CRIMEA. (From the Journal of a Russian Officer.) SEVASTOPOL, the first town of Crimea, and the most beautifully situated in all Russia, was not in existence at the conquest of the country in 1783. An insignificant village lay on the right shore of the bay, in the midst of a thick forest; and on this spot Sevastopol was built, which now contains above 20,000 inhabitants, mostly soldiers and sailors. The town is seated on the declivity of a hill, forming a promontory between two bays. The houses are chiefly of one story, white, covered with red tiles, and surrounded with fruittrees. The principal street (the houses of which are two stories) runs along the foot of the hill. Its advantages as a sea-port are perhaps unequalled. The roads are formed by a bay about a werst and a half wide, by seven wersts long, and from seven to ten fathoms deep. The anchorage is excellent, and vessels are protected against every wind, except from the west, on entering. From the southern entrance, it comprehends four capacious bays, viz. Artillery-bay, South-bay, Ship's-bay, and the careening-bay. The 2d and 3d are by nature so secure, that a ship may sail with all her canvass into the roads. In Ship's-bay, vessels of a hundred guns with full cargo lie close in-shore. Each vessel has a store-house cut out of the rock, where all her stores are deposited, except the artillery, which remains on board. The admiralty is on the west side of South-bay, and separated by a wall from the town. One of the greatest advantages of this place, as a military harbour, is that, except in stormy weather, the wind blows from morning till noon from the east, out of the harbour; and then, shifting, blows from the west into the harbour. The entrance of the roads on that side is not above 400 fathoms ; and the fortifications, carrying nearly 600 pieces of artillery, would suffice, with two or three vessels, to keep off any hostile force. The situation of Sevastopol is euch, that with an army of 20,000 men it would be impregnable. Proper docks are, however, wanted for building and repairing ships, especially as the sea is full of wood-worms. The ships brought here from Cherson lose much in the carriage, and have often to be repaired on their arrival. Moreover, there is no fresh water in the place, and it must be brought from a considerable distance. The town is rapidly extending, and promises to become the first in southern Russia, on account of its situation, so favourable to commerce, and the fertility of the surrounding provinces. The woods in the vicinity have entirely disappeared, the land having been granted to officers of the fleet, on condition of their inclosing and cultivating it. A spot without the town, called the Balka (valley) of Ushakow, adorned with pleasure-houses and swings, is set apart for public amusement. At the extremity of the roads is the site of the ancient town of Ingerman, of which nothing remains but a few caverns in a neighbouring hill, one of which had evidently served as a church. There are many such caverns about Crimea, which seem to have been made for places of refuge. Ruins of the ancient fortress of Dori are found on the top of the hill. Of the ruins of Cherson or Chersonesus, whence the Christian religion was originally introduced into Russia, little now remains besides a dilapidated tower, a decayed aqueduct, and the foundations of houses; the greater part of the stones of this ancient city having been employed in building Sevastopol. The ruins are but two wersts from this place; but the harbour bears no com parison parison with that of the new town, being exposed to the prevailing north winds. Greek, Roman, Bosphoric, and Chersonese coins are still found amongst the rubbish of the place. A light-house, forty-two fathoms high, has been built on Cape Chersonese. Ten wersts from Sevastopol begins the south coast of Crimea. Here is the site of an ancient temple of Diana, the ruins of which, now mere heaps of stones, and used by the inhabitants as building materials, cover a small hill. Having ascended the steep rocks on the sea-shore, the traveller beholds a mean edifice built against the side of the rock. This is the convent of Georgiewski. The monks see nothing from their cells but sky and water; a narrow gallery cut in the rock leads to their church, the most ancient in these parts-having been cut out of the rock nearly ten centuries ago. It is consecrated to St. George; and a piece of wood, representing a miraculous image of this saint, draws annually, on the 23d of April, a great many pilgrims to this place, whose donations support the monks. A new and handsome church is now building here by subscription. The old one is poorly ornamented, and its paintings are very indifferent: the spot is one of the most lonely imaginable. The gallery abovementioned is placed perpendicularly over the sea, to which there is a descent by steps cut in the solid rock. Balaklawa is a new town, built by Albanian refugees from Cyprus. Its situation is singular. Imagine a narrow bay, formed between two steep wild rocks, piercing the clouds; against one of these rocks is built a row of stone houses, and opposite to them another, low and very plain, making one street, which is the whole town. Each family has sufficient land to grow vegetables and corn for their consumption; and some carry on a pretty lucrative trade in fish, which they carry in small boats to Sevastopol, Koslow, and Odessa. The men form a battalion, and, with the Cossacs, perform the quarantine duty of the peninsula, and are occasionally employed on the fleet. They are armed in the Greek fashion, with a long Turkish gun, a sword, a yatagan or short dagger, and a pair of pistols, provided at their own expense. They receive pay only when on actual service. They are excellent marksmen, and have distinguished themselves on many occasions against the Turks and Tartars. Balaklawa is built on the site of the ancient Symbolan. The old fortress is so far preserved, that its square shape is discernible; and two of its towers are still so perfect, that one is used for a light-house. It is situated on a very high steep rock, at one of the extremities of the bay; and, before the introduction of gun-powder, must have been impregnable. We found many petrified shells, the mountains on the coast of Crimea being chiefly formed of slanting strata of that kind of fossil. The prospect from the light-house was truly sublime, and strongly reminded me of the wild scenery described in Ossian, On leaving this town we proceeded for twenty-five wersts on a road made for Catherine II. when she visited Baidary. It is falling into decay, and we had to proceed on our horses one by one, over a succession of hills, one towering above the other, mostly covered with forests, in some of which we found ripe cherries. We reached, at last, the valley of Baidary, which equals, in my opinion, the poetical description of Tempe. It has no vines; but produces plenty of corn and various fruits and vegetables. The greater part of it belongs to Admiral Mordwinow, and the rest to a few Tartar villages, which pay a tithe of their produce. We alighted at the house of the chief of one of those villages, who received us with the utmost hospitality. The place is delightfully situated, and the mosque is embosomed in a grove of high E 2 poplar |