eAlexandria Egypt, October 8. 1859.
My dear Fanny,
A high wind was blowing yesterday when we
came to the entrance of this very ugly harbor. The Pilot kept
off for some reason. A high wave lifted us up and suddenly
broke beneath us. The Bruge Macedonian with her great
weight of cannon struck on the sands, rose, and struck a-
gain. Then might you have seen wild alarm among these
three hundred brave seaman who by whom she is manned
But happily the accident did no harm, we rode
safely over the bar – and came safely to anchor. The
guns rattled a national salute to the Sultan of
Turkey, which was promptly returned from the Fort.
Then the Captain of the Macedonian, delivered another
salute to the Admiral of the Turkish fleet, lying
in the harbor, which was returned, visits between
these dignitaries followed and then all was at rest.
I went ashore, and my senses were not vanished by
the renewal of the scenes of a Turkish town. I made
my arrangements to depart for Europe by the
Austrian Steam which will sail out to day or
tomorrow for Trieste. In the afternoon I took a boat
and arrived to the shore where I visited the Cata-
combs of Alexandria. they are wonderfully interesting, although
the sight of them is most painful. I think I have told

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you that this land in the Delta of the Nile lies very low
and is almost everywhere subject to inundations of
the Nile. All higher eminences are therefore sought for
places of interment. Around the city is a range of lower
rocky hills hardly sixty feet high. They are They are
formed of a soft chalky stone which is cut when wet
with great care. Generation after generation of the
former inhabitants cut graves and tombs in these walls
in tiers one above another, with various halls and corridors
with moving in all directions as persons are apt to build streets
in the city. Here they deposited their dead to rest safely
undisturbed forever. The races by whom this was done
have perished and are forgotten, as for a long time
this were the graves they had made. But now in recent
years, a new formation of society has occured in this
the earl scene of so many past civilizations, a rail
road is built, palaces and hareems and wharves
and fountains and gardens are wanted. The Pacha
cuts ruthlessly down the stone hills honeycombed
into catacombs, and takes these walls stones of these
walls and tombs for materials of new structures.
I wandered through them as well as among them, into them
as freely as I might explore the ruin of which a recent
removal of buildings in one of our American towns. The walls are
plastered with cement, often painted with care, a

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costly sarcophagus of granite is torn up andits contents
scattered and the coffin which was to be eternal is con-
verted into a trough for watering animals. I tread upon
bones, hur bones, the of every part of the human frame
legs arms skulls of every size of they de break
and dissolve into dust under my feet. I lift up
them up with my They fall into ashes in my
hand. Nobody knows nobody cares for these sleepers
each of whose birth awakened hopes and joys which
made households and tribes happy, each of whose deaths
made families if not the state mourn for months
for years some of them perhaps for ages.
Adieu to the city of Alexandria – and of Cleopatra
Adieu to its living base and vulgar population. Adieu
to its silently now numerous dead. Who shall deny
that in a future day and in a far different place I
shall meet and learn from their own lips the long
forgotten story of their lives –