Some of our party went to a Spanish venta, as a more convenient or romantic place of residence than an English house; others made choice of the club-house in Commercial Square, of which I formed an agreeable picture in my imagination; rather, perhaps, resembling the Junior United Service Club in Charles Street, by which every Londoner has passed ere this with respectful pleasure, catching15 glimpses of magnificent blazing candelabras, under which sit neat half-pay officers, drinking half-pints of port. The club-house of Gibraltar is not, however, of the Charles Street sort: it may have been cheerful once, and there are yet relics16 of splendour about it. When officers wore pigtails, and in the time of Governor O’Hara, it may have been a handsome place; but it is mouldy and decrepit17 now; and though his Excellency, Mr. Bulwer, was living there, and made no complaints that I heard of, other less distinguished18 persons thought they had reason to grumble19. Indeed, what is travelling made of? At least half its pleasures and incidents come out of inns; and of them the tourist can speak with much more truth and vivacity20 than of historical recollections compiled out of histories, or filched21 out of handbooks. But to speak of the best inn in a place needs no apology: that, at least, is useful information. As every person intending to visit Gibraltar cannot have seen the flea-bitten countenances22 of our companions, who fled from their Spanish venta to take refuge at the club the morning after our arrival, they may surely be thankful for being directed to the best house of accommodation in one of the most unromantic, uncomfortable, and prosaic23 of towns.
If one had a right to break the sacred confidence of the mahogany, I could entertain you with many queer stories of Gibraltar life, gathered from the lips of the gentlemen who enjoyed themselves round the dingy24 tablecloth25 of the club-house coffee-room, richly decorated with cold gravy26 and spilt beer. I heard there the very names of the gentlemen who wrote the famous letters from the “Warspite” regarding the French proceedings27 at Mogador; and met several refugee Jews from that place, who said that they were much more afraid of the Kabyles without the city than of the guns of the French squadron, of which they seemed to make rather light. I heard the last odds28 on the ensuing match between Captain Smith’s b. g. Bolter, and Captain Brown’s ch. c. Roarer: how the gun-room of Her Majesty’s ship “Purgatory” had “cobbed” a tradesman of the town, and of the row in consequence. I heard capital stories of the way in which Wilkins had escaped the guard, and Thompson had been locked up among the mosquitoes for being out after ten without the lantern. I heard how the governor was an old — but to say what, would be breaking a confidence: only this may be divulged29, that the epithet30 was exceedingly complimentary31 to Sir Robert Wilson. All the while these conversations were going on, a strange scene of noise and bustle32 was passing in the market-place, in front of the window, where Moors, Jews, Spaniards, soldiers were thronging33 in the sun; and a ragged34 fat fellow, mounted on a tobacco-barrel, with his hat cocked on his ear, was holding an auction35, and roaring with an energy and impudence36 that would have done credit to Covent Garden.
The Moorish37 castle is the only building about the Rock which has an air at all picturesque38 or romantic; there is a plain Roman Catholic cathedral, a hideous39 new Protestant church of the cigar-divan architecture, and a Court-house with a portico40 which is said to be an imitation of the Parthenon: the ancient religions houses of the Spanish town are gone, or turned into military residences, and masked so that you would never know their former pious41 destination. You walk through narrow whitewashed42 lanes, bearing such martial43 names as are before mentioned, and by-streets with barracks on either side: small Newgate-like looking buildings, at the doors of which you may see the sergeants’ ladies conversing44; or at the open windows of the officers’ quarters, Ensign Fipps lying on his sofa and smoking his cigar, or Lieutenant45 Simson practising the flute46 to while away the weary hours of garrison47 dulness. I was surprised not to find more persons in the garrison library, where is a magnificent reading-room, and an admirable collection of books.
In spite of the scanty48 herbage and the dust on the trees, the Alameda is a beautiful walk; of which the vegetation has been as laboriously49 cared for as the tremendous fortifications which flank it on either side. The vast Rock rises on one side with its interminable works of defence, and Gibraltar Bay is shining on the other, out on which from the terraces immense cannon50 are perpetually looking, surrounded by plantations51 of cannon-balls and beds of bomb-shells, sufficient, one would think, to blow away the whole peninsula. The horticultural and military mixture is indeed very queer: here and there temples, rustic52 summer-seats, &c. have been erected53 in the garden, but you are sure to see a great squat54 mortar55 look up from among the flower-pots: and amidst the aloes and geraniums sprouts56 the green petticoat and scarlet57 coat of a Highlander58. Fatigue-parties are seen winding59 up the hill, and busy about the endless cannon-ball plantations; awkward squads are drilling in the open spaces: sentries60 marching everywhere, and (this is a caution to artists) I am told have orders to run any man through who is discovered making a sketch61 of the place. It is always beautiful, especially at evening, when the people are sauntering along the walks, and the moon is shining on the waters of the bay and the hills and twinkling white houses of the opposite shore. Then the place becomes quite romantic: it is too dark to see the dust on the dried leaves; the cannon-balls do not intrude62 too much, but have subsided63 into the shade; the awkward squads are in bed; even the loungers are gone, the fan-flirting Spanish ladies, the sallow black-eyed children, and the trim white-jacketed dandies. A fife is heard from some craft at roost on the quiet waters somewhere; or a faint cheer from yonder black steamer at the Mole64, which is about to set out on some night expedition. You forget that the town is at all like Wapping, and deliver yourself up entirely65 to romance; the sentries look noble pacing there, silent in the moonlight, and Sandy’s voice is quite musical as he challenges with a “Who goes there?”
“All’s Well” is very pleasant when sung decently in tune66, and inspires noble and poetic67 ideas of duty, courage, and danger: but when you hear it shouted all the night through, accompanied by a clapping of muskets68 in a time of profound peace, the sentinel’s cry becomes no more romantic to the hearer than it is to the sandy Connaught-man or the bare-legged Highlander who delivers it. It is best to read about wars comfortably in Harry69 Lorrequer or Scott’s novels, in which knights71 shout their war-cries, and jovial72 Irish bayoneteers hurrah73, without depriving you of any blessed rest. Men of a different way of thinking, however, can suit themselves perfectly74 at Gibraltar; where there is marching and counter-marching, challenging and relieving guard all the night through. And not here in Commercial Square alone, but all over the huge Rock in the darkness — all through the mysterious zig-zags, and round the dark cannon-ball pyramids, and along the vast rock-galleries, and up to the topmost flagstaff, where the sentry75 can look out over two seas, poor fellows are marching and clapping muskets, and crying “All’s Well,” dressed in cap and feather, in place of honest nightcaps best befitting the decent hours of sleep.
All these martial noises three of us heard to the utmost advantage, lying on iron bedsteads at the time in a cracked old room on the ground-floor, the open windows of which looked into the square. No spot could be more favourably76 selected for watching the humours of a garrison town by night. About midnight, the door hard by us was visited by a party of young officers, who having had quite as much drink as was good for them, were naturally inclined for more; and when we remonstrated77 through the windows, one of them in a young tipsy voice asked after our mothers, and finally reeled away. How charming is the conversation of high-spirited youth! I don’t know whether the guard got hold of them: but certainly if a civilian78 had been hiccuping79 through the streets at that hour, he would have been carried off to the guard-house, and left to the mercy of the mosquitoes there, and had up before the Governor in the morning. The young man in the coffee-room tells me he goes to sleep every night with the keys of Gibraltar under his pillow. It is an awful image, and somehow completes the notion of the slumbering80 fortress81. Fancy Sir Robert Wilson, his nose just visible over the sheets, his night-cap and the huge key (you see the very identical one in Reynolds’s portrait of Lord Heathfield) peeping out from under the bolster82!
If I entertain you with accounts of inns and nightcaps it is because I am more familiar with these subjects than with history and fortifications: as far as I can understand the former, Gibraltar is the great British depot83 for smuggling84 goods into the Peninsula. You see vessels85 lying in the harbour, and are told in so many words they are smugglers: all those smart Spaniards with cigar and mantles87 are smugglers, and run tobaccos and cotton into Catalonia; all the respected merchants of the place are smugglers. The other day a Spanish revenue vessel86 was shot to death under the thundering great guns of the fort, for neglecting to bring to, but it so happened that it was in chase of a smuggler11: in this little corner of her dominions88 Britain proclaims war to custom-houses, and protection to free trade. Perhaps ere a very long day, England may be acting89 that part towards the world, which Gibraltar performs towards Spain now; and the last war in which we shall ever engage may be a custom-house war. For once establish railroads and abolish preventive duties through Europe, and what is there left to fight for? It will matter very little then under what flag people live, and foreign ministers and ambassadors may enjoy a dignified90 sinecure91; the army will rise to the rank of peaceful constables92, not having any more use for their bayonets than those worthy93 people have for their weapons now who accompany the law at assizes under the name of javelin-men. The apparatus94 of bombs and eighty-four-pounders may disappear from the Alameda, and the crops of cannon — balls which now grow there may give place to other plants more pleasant to the eye; and the great key of Gibraltar may be left in the gate for anybody to turn at will, and Sir Robert Wilson may sleep in quiet.
I am afraid I thought it was rather a release, when, having made up our minds to examine the Rock in detail and view the magnificent excavations95 and galleries, the admiration96 of all military men, and the terror of any enemies who may attack the fortress, we received orders to embark97 forthwith in the “Tagus,” which was to early us to Malta and Constantinople. So we took leave of this famous Rock — this great blunderbuss — which we seized out of the hands of the natural owners a hundred and forty years ago, and which we have kept ever since tremendously loaded and cleaned and ready for use. To seize and have it is doubtless a gallant98 thing; it is like one of those tests of courage which one reads of in the chivalrous99 romances, when, for instance, Sir Huon of Bordeaux is called upon to prove his knighthood by going to Babylon and pulling out the Sultan’s beard and front teeth in the midst of his Court there. But, after all, justice must confess it was rather hard on the poor Sultan. If we had the Spaniards established at Land’s End, with impregnable Spanish fortifications on St. Michael’s Mount, we should perhaps come to the same conclusion. Meanwhile let us hope, during this long period of deprivation100, the Sultan of Spain is reconciled to the loss of his front teeth and bristling101 whiskers — let us even try to think that he is better without them. At all events, right or wrong, whatever may be our title to the property, there is no Englishman but must think with pride of the manner in which his countrymen have kept it, and of the courage, endurance, and sense of duty with which stout102 old Eliott and his companions resisted Crillon and the Spanish battering103 ships and his fifty thousand men. There seems to be something more noble in the success of a gallant resistance than of an attack, however brave. After failing in his attack on the fort, the French General visited the English Commander who had foiled him, and parted from him and his garrison in perfect politeness and good-humour. The English troops, Drinkwater says, gave him thundering cheers as he went away, and the French in return complimented us on our gallantry, and lauded104 the humanity of our people. If we are to go on murdering each other in the old-fashioned way, what a pity it is that our battles cannot end in the old-fashioned way too!
One of our fellow-travellers, who had written a book, and had suffered considerably105 from sea-sickness during our passage along the coasts of France and Spain, consoled us all by saying that the very minute we got into the Mediterranean106 we might consider ourselves entirely free from illness; and, in fact, that it was unheard of in the Inland Sea. Even in the Bay of Gibraltar the water looked bluer than anything I have ever seen — except Miss Smith’s eyes. I thought, somehow, the delicious faultless azure107 never could look angry — just like the eyes before alluded108 to — and under this assurance we passed the Strait, and began coasting the African shore calmly and without the least apprehension109, as if we were as much used to the tempest as Mr. T. P. Cooke.
But when, in spite of the promise of the man who had written the book, we found ourselves worse than in the worst part of the Bay of Biscay, or off the storm-lashed rocks of Finisterre, we set down the author in question as a gross impostor, and had a mind to quarrel with him for leading us into this cruel error. The most provoking part of the matter, too, was, that the sky was deliciously clear and cloudless, the air balmy, the sea so insultingly blue that it seemed as if we had no right to be ill at all, and that the innumerable little waves that frisked round about our keel were enjoying an anerithmon gelasma (this is one of my four Greek quotations110: depend on it I will manage to introduce the other three before the tour is done)— seemed to be enjoying, I say, the above-named Greek quotation111 at our expense. Here is the dismal112 log of Wednesday, 4th of September:—“All attempts at dining very fruitless. Basins in requisition. Wind hard ahead. Que diable allais-je faire dans cette galere? Writing or thinking impossible: so read ‘Letters from the AEgean.’” These brief words give, I think, a complete idea of wretchedness, despair, remorse113, and prostration114 of soul and body. Two days previously115 we passed the forts and moles116 and yellow buildings of Algiers, rising very stately from the sea, and skirted by gloomy purple lines of African shore, with fires smoking in the mountains, and lonely settlements here and there.
On the 5th, to the inexpressible joy of all, we reached Valetta, the entrance to the harbour of which is one of the most stately and agreeable scenes ever admired by sea-sick traveller. The small basin was busy with a hundred ships, from the huge guard-ship, which lies there a city in itself; — merchantmen loading and crews cheering, under all the flags of the world flaunting117 in the sunshine; a half-score of busy black steamers perpetually coming and going, coaling and painting, and puffing118 and hissing119 in and out of harbour; slim men-of-war’s barges120 shooting to and fro, with long shining oars8 flashing like wings over the water; hundreds of painted town-boats, with high heads and white awnings121 — down to the little tubs in which some naked, tawny122 young beggars came paddling up to the steamer, entreating123 us to let them dive for halfpence. Round this busy blue water rise rocks, blazing in sunshine, and covered with every imaginable device of fortification; to the right, St. Elmo, with flag and lighthouse; and opposite, the Military Hospital, looking like a palace; and all round, the houses of the city, for its size the handsomest and most stately in the world.
Nor does it disappoint you on a closer inspection124, as many a foreign town does. The streets are thronged with a lively comfortable-looking population; the poor seem to inhabit handsome stone palaces, with balconies and projecting windows of heavy carved stone. The lights and shadows, the cries and stenches, the fruit-shops and fish-stalls, the dresses and chatter125 of all nations; the soldiers in scarlet, and women in black mantillas; the beggars, boat-men, barrels of pickled herrings and macaroni; the shovel-hatted priests and bearded capuchins; the tobacco, grapes, onions, and sunshine; the signboards, bottled-porter stores, the statues of saints and little chapels126 which jostle the stranger’s eyes as he goes up the famous stairs from the Water-gate, make a scene of such pleasant confusion and liveliness as I have never witnessed before. And the effect of the groups of multitudinous actors in this busy cheerful drama is heightened, as it were, by the decorations of the stage. The sky is delightfully128 brilliant; all the houses and ornaments129 are stately; castle and palaces are rising all around; and the flag, towers, and walls of Fort St. Elmo look as fresh and magnificent as if they had been erected only yesterday.
The Strada Reale has a much more courtly appearance than that one described. Here are palaces, churches, court-houses and libraries, the genteel London shops, and the latest articles of perfumery. Gay young officers are strolling about in shell-jackets much too small for them: midshipmen are clattering130 by on hired horses; squads of priests, habited after the fashion of Don Basilio in the opera, are demurely131 pacing to and fro; professional beggars run shrieking132 after the stranger; and agents for horses, for inns, and for worse places still, follow him and insinuate133 the excellence134 of their goods. The houses where they are selling carpet-bags and pomatum were the palaces of the successors of the goodliest company of gallant knights the world ever heard tell of. It seems unromantic; but THESE were not the romantic Knights of St. John. The heroic days of the Order ended as the last Turkish galley135 lifted anchor after the memorable136 siege. The present stately houses were built in times of peace and splendour and decay. I doubt whether the Auberge de Provence, where the “union Club” flourishes now, has ever seen anything more romantic than the pleasant balls held in the great room there.
The Church of St. John, not a handsome structure without, is magnificent within: a noble hall covered with a rich embroidery137 of gilded138 carving139, the chapels of the different nations on either side, but not interfering140 with the main structure, of which the whole is simple, and the details only splendid; it seemed to me a fitting place for this wealthy body of aristocratic soldiers, who made their devotions as it were on parade, and, though on their knees, never forgot their epaulets or their quarters of nobility. This mixture of religion and worldly pride seems incongruous at first; but have we not at church at home similar relics of feudal141 ceremony? — the verger with the silver mace142 who precedes the vicar to the desk; the two chaplains of my Lord Archbishop, who bow over his Grace as he enters the communion-table gate; even poor John, who follows my Lady with a coroneted prayer-book, and makes his conge as he hands it into the pew. What a chivalrous absurdity143 is the banner of some high and mighty144 prince, hanging over his stall in Windsor Chapel127, when you think of the purpose for which men are supposed to assemble there! The Church of the Knights of St. John is paved over with sprawling145 heraldic devices of the dead gentlemen of the dead Order; as if, in the next world, they expected to take rank in conformity146 with their pedigrees, and would be marshalled into heaven according to the orders of precedence. Cumbrous handsome paintings adorn147 the walls and chapels, decorated with pompous148 monuments of Grand Masters. Beneath is a crypt, where more of these honourable149 and reverend warriors150 lie, in a state that a Simpson would admire. In the altar are said to lie three of the most gallant relics in the world: the keys of Acre, Rhodes, and Jerusalem. What blood was shed in defending these emblems151! What faith, endurance, genius, and generosity152; what pride, hatred153, ambition, and savage154 lust155 of blood were roused together for their guardianship156!
In the lofty halls and corridors of the Governor’s house, some portraits of the late Grand Masters still remain: a very fine one, by Caravaggio, of a knight70 in gilt157 armour158, hangs in the dining-room, near a full-length of poor Louis XVI., in Royal robes, the very picture of uneasy impotency. But the portrait of De Vignacourt is the only one which has a respectable air; the other chiefs of the famous Society are pompous old gentlemen in black, with huge periwigs, and crowns round their hats, and a couple of melancholy160 pages in yellow and red. But pages and wigs159 and Grand Masters have almost faded out of the canvas, and are vanishing into Hades with a most melancholy indistinctness. The names of most of these gentlemen, however, live as yet in the forts of the place, which all seem to have been eager to build and christen: so that it seems as if, in the Malta mythology161, they had been turned into freestone.
In the armoury is the very suit painted by Caravaggio, by the side of the armour of the noble old La Valette, whose heroism162 saved his island from the efforts of Mustapha and Dragut, and an army quite as fierce and numerous as that which was baffled before Gibraltar, by similar courage and resolution. The sword of the last-named famous corsair (a most truculent163 little scimitar), thousands of pikes and halberts, little old cannons164 and wall-pieces, helmets and cuirasses, which the knights or their people wore, are trimly arranged against the wall, and, instead of spiking165 Turks or arming warriors, now serve to point morals and adorn tales. And here likewise are kept many thousand muskets, swords, and boarding-pikes for daily use, and a couple of ragged old standards of one of the English regiments166, who pursued and conquered in Egypt the remains167 of the haughty168 and famous French republican army, at whose appearance the last knights of Malta flung open the gates of all their fortresses169, and consented to be extinguished without so much as a remonstrance170, or a kick, or a struggle.
We took a drive into what may be called the country; where the fields are rocks, and the hedges are stones — passing by the stone gardens of the Florian, and wondering at the number and handsomeness of the stone villages and churches rising everywhere among the stony171 hills. Handsome villas172 were passed everywhere, and we drove for a long distance along the sides of an aqueduct, quite a Royal work of the Caravaggio in gold armour, the Grand Master De Vignacourt. A most agreeable contrast to the arid173 rocks of the general scenery was the garden at the Governor’s country-house; with the orange-trees and water, its beautiful golden grapes, luxuriant flowers, and thick cool shrubberies. The eye longs for this sort of refreshment174, after being seared with the hot glare of the general country; and St. Antonio was as pleasant after Malta as Malta was after the sea.
We paid the island a subsequent visit in November, passing seventeen days at an establishment called Fort Manuel there, and by punsters the Manuel des Voyageurs; where Government accommodates you with quarters; where the authorities are so attentive175 as to scent176 your letters with aromatic177 vinegar before you receive them, and so careful of your health as to lock you up in your room every night lest you should walk in your sleep, and so over the battlements into the sea — if you escaped drowning in the sea, the sentries on the opposite shore would fire at you, hence the nature of the precaution. To drop, however, this satirical strain: those who know what quarantine is, may fancy that the place somehow becomes unbearable178 in which it has been endured. And though the November climate of Malta is like the most delicious May in England, and though there is every gaiety and amusement in the town, a comfortable little opera, a good old library filled full of good old books (none of your works of modern science, travel, and history, but good old USELESS books of the last two centuries), and nobody to trouble you in reading them, and though the society of Valetta is most hospitable179, varied180, and agreeable, yet somehow one did not feel SAFE in the island, with perpetual glimpses of Fort Manuel from the opposite shore; and, lest the quarantine authorities should have a fancy to fetch one back again, on a pretext181 of posthumous182 plague, we made our way to Naples by the very first opportunity — those who remained, that is, of the little Eastern Expedition. They were not all there. The Giver of life and death had removed two of our company: one was left behind to die in Egypt, with a mother to bewail his loss, another we buried in the dismal lazaretto cemetery183.
One is bound to look at this, too, as a part of our journey. Disease and death are knocking perhaps at your next cabin door. Your kind and cheery companion has ridden his last ride and emptied his last glass beside you. And while fond hearts are yearning184 for him far away, and his own mind, if conscious, is turning eagerly towards the spot of the world whither affection or interest calls it — the Great Father summons the anxious spirit from earth to himself, and ordains185 that the nearest and dearest shall meet here no more.
Such an occurrence as a death in a lazaretto, mere186 selfishness renders striking. We were walking with him but two days ago on deck. One has a sketch of him, another his card, with the address written yesterday, and given with an invitation to come and see him at home in the country, where his children are looking for him. He is dead in a day, and buried in the walls of the prison. A doctor felt his pulse by deputy — a clergyman comes from the town to read the last service over him — and the friends, who attend his funeral, are marshalled by lazaretto-guardians, so as not to touch each other. Every man goes back to his room and applies the lesson to himself. One would not so depart without seeing again the dear dear faces. We reckon up those we love: they are but very few, but I think one loves them better than ever now. Should it be your turn next? — and why not? Is it pity or comfort to think of that affection which watches and survives you?
The Maker187 has linked together the whole race of man with this chain of love. I like to think that there is no man but has had kindly188 feelings for some other, and he for his neighbour, until we bind189 together the whole family of Adam. Nor does it end here. It joins heaven and earth together. For my friend or my child of past days is still my friend or my child to me here, or in the home prepared for us by the Father of all. If identity survives the grave, as our faith tells us, is it not a consolation190 to think that there may be one or two souls among the purified and just, whose affection watches us invisible, and follows the poor sinner on earth?
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moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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abound
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| vi.大量存在；(in，with)充满，富于 | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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smuggler
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| n.走私者 | |
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seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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squads
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| n.（军队中的）班( squad的名词复数 )；（暗杀）小组；体育运动的运动（代表）队；（对付某类犯罪活动的）警察队伍 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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decrepit
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| adj.衰老的，破旧的 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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filched
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| v.偷（尤指小的或不贵重的物品）( filch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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countenances
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| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
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prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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gravy
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| n.肉汁；轻易得来的钱，外快 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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divulged
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| v.吐露，泄露( divulge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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epithet
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| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
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31
complimentary
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| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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33
thronging
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的现在分词 ) | |
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34
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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35
auction
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| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
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36
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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37
moorish
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| adj.沼地的，荒野的，生[住]在沼地的 | |
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38
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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39
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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40
portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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41
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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42
whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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44
conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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45
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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46
flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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47
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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48
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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49
laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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50
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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51
plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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52
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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53
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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54
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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55
mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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56
sprouts
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| n.新芽，嫩枝( sprout的名词复数 )v.发芽( sprout的第三人称单数 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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57
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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58
highlander
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| n.高地的人，苏格兰高地地区的人 | |
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59
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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60
sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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61
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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62
intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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63
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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64
mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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65
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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66
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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67
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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68
muskets
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| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
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69
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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70
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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71
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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72
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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73
hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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74
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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75
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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76
favourably
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| adv. 善意地，赞成地 =favorably | |
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77
remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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78
civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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79
hiccuping
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| v.嗝( hiccup的现在分词 )；连续地打嗝；暂时性的小问题；短暂的停顿 | |
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80
slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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81
fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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82
bolster
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| n.枕垫；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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83
depot
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| n.仓库，储藏处；公共汽车站；火车站 | |
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84
smuggling
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| n.走私 | |
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85
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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86
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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87
mantles
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| vt.&vi.覆盖（mantle的第三人称单数形式） | |
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88
dominions
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| 统治权( dominion的名词复数 )； 领土； 疆土； 版图 | |
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89
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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90
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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91
sinecure
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| n.闲差事，挂名职务 | |
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92
constables
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| n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
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93
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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94
apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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95
excavations
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| n.挖掘( excavation的名词复数 )；开凿；开凿的洞穴（或山路等）；（发掘出来的）古迹 | |
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96
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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97
embark
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| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
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98
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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99
chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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100
deprivation
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| n.匮乏；丧失；夺去，贫困 | |
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101
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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103
battering
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| n.用坏，损坏v.连续猛击( batter的现在分词 ) | |
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104
lauded
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| v.称赞，赞美( laud的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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105
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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106
Mediterranean
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| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
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107
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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108
alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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109
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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110
quotations
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| n.引用( quotation的名词复数 )；[商业]行情（报告）；（货物或股票的）市价；时价 | |
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111
quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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112
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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113
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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114
prostration
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| n. 平伏, 跪倒, 疲劳 | |
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115
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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116
moles
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| 防波堤( mole的名词复数 )； 鼹鼠； 痣； 间谍 | |
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117
flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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118
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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119
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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120
barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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121
awnings
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| 篷帐布 | |
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122
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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123
entreating
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的现在分词 ) | |
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124
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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125
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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126
chapels
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| n.小教堂， （医院、监狱等的）附属礼拜堂( chapel的名词复数 )；（在小教堂和附属礼拜堂举行的）礼拜仪式 | |
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127
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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128
delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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129
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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130
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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131
demurely
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| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
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132
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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133
insinuate
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| vt.含沙射影地说，暗示 | |
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134
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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135
galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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136
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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137
embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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138
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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139
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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140
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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141
feudal
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| adj.封建的，封地的，领地的 | |
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142
mace
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| n.狼牙棒，豆蔻干皮 | |
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143
absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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144
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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145
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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146
conformity
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| n.一致，遵从，顺从 | |
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147
adorn
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| vt.使美化，装饰 | |
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148
pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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149
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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150
warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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151
emblems
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| n.象征，标记( emblem的名词复数 ) | |
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152
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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153
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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154
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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155
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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156
guardianship
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| n. 监护, 保护, 守护 | |
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157
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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158
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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159
wigs
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| n.假发，法官帽( wig的名词复数 ) | |
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160
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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161
mythology
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| n.神话，神话学，神话集 | |
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162
heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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163
truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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164
cannons
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| n.加农炮，大炮，火炮( cannon的名词复数 ) | |
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165
spiking
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| n.尖峰形成v.加烈酒于( spike的现在分词 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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166
regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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167
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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168
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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169
fortresses
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| 堡垒，要塞( fortress的名词复数 ) | |
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170
remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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171
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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172
villas
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| 别墅，公馆( villa的名词复数 )； （城郊）住宅 | |
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173
arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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174
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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175
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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176
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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177
aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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178
unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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179
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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180
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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181
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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182
posthumous
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| adj.遗腹的；父亡后出生的；死后的，身后的 | |
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183
cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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184
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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185
ordains
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| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的第三人称单数 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
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186
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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187
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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188
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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189
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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190
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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