FELIX FABRI

CIRCA 1480-1483 A.D.)

VOL. I.

(PART I.)

Translated

BY

AUBREY STEWART, M.A.

LONDON:

24, HANOVER SQUARE, W.

1896.

THE BOOK OF THE WANDERINGS OF

BROTHER FELIX FABRI

INTRODUCTION.

IN his Epistle Dedicatory, dated 1484, Brother Felix Fabri, after his return for the second time from the Holy Land, describes how he twice journeyed thither, and how he strove-during his travels to fulfil the promise which he had made to his brethren of the Dominican Convent of Ulm to keep an exact record of all that he saw and of all that befel him on his journey. 'Besides this,' he continues, 'I also, in some cases, took great pains to write an exact account of some of the holy places to which I never went, but never without adding, "I did not go to this place, but have heard or read about it."'

He speaks of himself in this preface as one who had visited all the three parts of the then known world. Writing as he does about ten years before the discovery of America, it is interesting to read his allusions to the Spice Islands, and to the famed Cipango, to reach which by a shorter route was the main object of Columbus's voyage. He also excuses his Latin style, which, as his German editor, Professor C. D. Hassler remarks, is somewhat of the pattern of that ridiculed in the ' Epistolae Obscurorum Virorum'; and says that should his book fall into the hands of those priests who neglect the Gospels and prophets to read Virgil and the Latin poets and rhetoricians, he will not escape their sneers: for such men love Pagan Rome better than Christian Jerusalem. 'If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, may my tongue cleave unto the roof of my mouth,' etc.

He describes at length his desire to behold the Holy Land, and quotes St. Jerome's preface to the Book of Chronicles to the effect that as he who has sailed from the Troad to Sicily will be better enabled thereby to understand the third book of Virgil's Aeneid, even so he who has beheld Judaea with his eyes will gain a clearer insight into Holy Scripture. 'Wherefore,' continues St. Jerome,'I also underwent the toil of wandering throughout the whole of this province, in the company of the most learned Hebrews.' 'Now if,' continues Fabri, 'the great St. Jerome, a man of the highest intelligence and learning, thought it right that he should visit the holy places, that he might better understand the Holy Scriptures, what wonder is there if I and the like of me, who are dull-minded and slow of understanding, should try by the same means to gain some little knowledge of the Holy Scriptures. Indeed, we see with our own eyes at the present day that mere laymen, with no knowledge of the Holy scriptures, after they have made a pilgrimage to the holy places and have returned from thence, argue about the Gospel and the prophets, talk upon theological subjects, and sometimes overcome and set right learned divines in their interpretation of difficult passages of Holy Scripture, because no Catholic returns from thence without having become more learned? Since, then, unlearned laymen return theologians from the holy places, there can be no doubt that clerks in orders and men of some small learning will return learned to no small degree. For this reason, and for many others, which are set forth in my preceding encomium on the Holy Land, and for some others which it is unnecessary for me to state, I "steadfastly set my face to go to Jerusalem," as it is said of the Lord Jesus in Luke ix. 5I, and, as far as it is permitted to a monk to do so, I bound myself by an oath to accomplish it. I call God to witness that for many years I was in such a fever of longing to perform that pilgrimage that whether I was asleep or awake I hardly ever had any other subject before my mind. And I may say with truth that while engaged in these thoughts I lay awake for more than a thousand hours of the night and time of rest.

'Moreover, it was a serious matter for me to ask for leave for so long and so unusual a wandering, and it appeared to be almost impossible for me to obtain it. Nor could I form any idea of how I should raise the money for such an expensive journey. Nevertheless, I did not remain quiet, and asked advice of many; but found no means to avoid staying at home. At last, however, I betook me to the illustrious Prince Count Eberhard the elder, of Wurtemburg, who had long ago been at the holy places, and who had been bound by the vows of a knight and had received the insignia, of the knightly office in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which is in Jerusalem. I asked his Magnificence's advice as to how I was to accomplish the pilgrimage which I had undertaken, for I was alarmed, and feared for my life; and I dreaded the sea, which I had never yet seen, and of which I had heard much, and the other perils of that pilgrimage, about which I had already read a great deal; and therefore I ran hither and thither more than I need have done, to obtain advice. The noble count, after he had heard me, answered me familiarly: " There are three acts in a man's life which no one ought either to advise another to do or not to do. The first is to contract matrimony, the second is to go to the wars, the third is to visit the Holy Sepulchre. I say that these three acts are good in themselves, but they may easily turn out ill; and when this is so, he Who gave the advice comes to be blamed as if he were the cause of its turning out ill." But the wise count went on to say that the pilgrimage about which I was asking his advice was an act which might be virtuous, holy, praiseworthy, and exceeding useful, yet only to those who undertook it with a view to the praise of God, while it would be full indeed of peril to those who made it out of frivolity or curiosity, having as their object the pomps of this world, or any other empty and transitory vanities.

'I also visited another noble and aged knight, who likewise had many years ago received his knighthood aft the Holy Sepulchre, and I asked him what he would advise me in this matter. He out of the fulness of his heart straightway exclaimed, " My brother, be well assured that were I not thus bowed down by old age, no one would hold me back from returning to perform a second pilgrimage; for nowhere have I received the grace of God in so large a measure as I did at the places where our redemption was wrought. For whenever I betook myself to prayer, methought I saw the heavens opened, and divine sweetness and consolation was poured into my soul as it was nowhere else."

'After this I departed to a certain convent of nuns, and begged leave of the prioress to converse with a certain maiden of the sisterhood, of well-known devotion, and, as many thought, of exceptional holiness, with whom I had often previously conversed for my own edification, but whose face I had never beheld. To this maiden I unfolded my plan, and she, with an unusual cheerfulness, replied, " Quickly, quickly perform your intended journey, end: on no account stay here any longer, and may God be your companion on your way." I received these words of the maiden as though they had come from heaven, and straightway began to preppie for my wanderings. There was at that time at Rome in the convent of our order which stands above the Temple of Minerva, a certain brother from our country, a friend and acquaintance of mines to whom I wrote telling him of my intention, and begging that he would obtain a license for me from our most holy father Pope Sixtus IV., and also from the most reverend general of our order, Father Leonard de Mansuetis, of Perusium, without whose leave being first granted no one in my country would have granted me a license to travel. This brother, like a good friends did not delay, but quickly obtained what I asked, and sent me a testimonial letter from the general of our order, wherein he warned all men that no one of inferior rank to himself should presume to hinder me from making this pilgrimage.

'On the receipt of this letter I repaired with it to the Reverend Father the Provincial of our District, and to the Reverend Doctor of Divinity, Ludwig Fuchs, Prior of the Convent of Ulm, and showed then my license from our lord the pope, and from the master of our order, begging 'that they likewise would benevolently give their consent. Seeing my intense wish to go they not only gave me their consent, but also bestowed upon me money and help for my journey; and thus it came to pass that within the space of a few days I was excellently supplied with all that I required for so great a journey, and was ready to set out. Now when this came to the ears of a certain noble and valiant knight' the Lord Apollinaris von Stein, who at that time was Governor of.Upper Bavaria, and resided in the town of Gundelfingen, he ordered me to be brought to him, and entrusted to my care his son, Master George van Stein, whom he had determined to send to Jerusalem to receive knighthood there, promising me repayment of my expenses and contributions towards them, and his favour in the future if I would agree to take his son as the companion of my journey.

'I willingly gave my consent to this nobleman, and appointed a day with Master George, on which might find me in the town of Memmingen, on which day and from which place we might start on our journey. Having made these arrangements I returned to Ulm.'

A BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF

BROTHER FELIX FABRI'S FIRST JOURNEY

TO THE HOLY LAND

AT the time of the celebration of Easter, in the year of our Lord 1480, on the ninth day of the month of April, which was the Sunday in the octave of Easter on which 'Quasi Modo,' etc., is sung in churches, and whereon also is celebrated the feast of the dedication of the church of the Dominicans in Ulm, on that same day after dinner, as is the custom, I ascended the pulpit, and preached to the people who were present in great numbers, both to hear the sermon and to obtain indulgences. When I had finished my sermon, before the general confession made by the people on such occasions, I told them all of the pilgrimage which I was on the point of beginning, bidding them, and beseeching then, to importune God with prayers for my safe return, at the present time to sing with me in gladness the hymn of the Lord's Resurrection, which the people are wont to sing, together with the hymn for pilgrims by sea. When I had said this I began in a loud voice, 'Christ is risen,' etc., and when that hymn was finished I again chanted, 'In Gottes Nahmen fahren wir, seiner Gnaden,' etc.

All the people then sang after me the hymns which I had begun with loud and pleasant voices, and repeated them many times over; nor did they refrain from tears, and some broke out into sobs instead of into song. For many persons of both sexes were anxious and alarmed, fearing, even as I myself feared, that I should perish among such terrible dangers. When the singing was over, I commended them to God by bestowing upon them the general absolution, and, strengthening them by the sign of the cross, I bade them farewell, and descended from the pulpit.

Now, on the fourteenth day of April, early in the morning, after I had received the blessing which is given to those who travel, and after I had kissed and embraced my brethren, we mounted our horses, I and the reverend Master Ludwig, with a servant from the city of Ulm, and rode to Memmingen, where, according to my appointment, I met the Lord Apollinaris van Stein, with his son George, and with many men-at-arms; and straightway on the morrow we prepared to depart, and the noble youth bade farewell to his father and to all his retainers, and mounted his horse not without sorrow and fear. I also rushed into the arms of my most kind and beloved spiritual father, begging his leave to depart and his paternal blessing, not without deep grief and sorrow, as was shown by the abundant tears and sobs of us both; nor was there anything to wonder at in this, for the forced parting of son from his father, and of a true man from his sincere friend, is naturally grievous. During my embraces and sobs I heard my most beloved father's last words of advice, that I was not to forget him in the Holy Land, but that, should a messenger present himself, I was to send a letter from the sea telling how I was, and to be sure to return soon. And so he sorrowfully left me, and returned with his servant to Ulm to his children, My brethren. After my father's departure, a great and almost irresistible temptation assailed me, for the delightful eagerness to see Jerusalem and the holy places, with which I had until that time been glowing, altogether died within me, and I felt a loathing for travel; and the pilgrimage, which had appeared so sweet and virtuous, now scorned wearisome, bitter, useless, empty, and sinful. I was angry with myself for having undertaken it, and all those who had dissuaded me from it I now thought to be the wisest of counsellors and the truest of friends; while I considered that those who had encouraged me were enemies of my life. I had more pleasure in beholding Suabia than the land of Canaan, and Ulm appeared to me pleasanter than Jerusalem. Moreover, the fear of the sea increased within me, and I conceived so many objections to that pilgrimage that, had I not been ashamed, I would have run after Master Ludwig and re-entered Ulm with him, and I should have had the greatest delight in doing so. This accursed temptation remained present with me throughout the whole voyage, and was most troublesome to me, because it took away all the delight and joy and zeal wherewith a pilgrim supports his labours and is urged to persist in his work, and caused me to be dull and stupid both in viewing places of note by sea and land, and also in writing accounts of them. What I have written was done against the grain, but I sometimes succeeded in conquering my dulness by hard work.

So young Master George and I, with one servant whom he had chosen from his father's household, set forth from Memmingen, and in a few hours he began to make my acquaintance and I began to make his, and we and our several dispositions agreed very well together, which is a great comfort for those who are making that pilgrimage together. For if a man has a comrade with whom he cannot agree, woe betide them both during their pilgrimage. So thus we entered the Alps with joy as far as Innspruck, and after leaving that place, rode hurriedly forward, in order that we might arrive the sooner at Venice. Now, while we were in the mountains, one thing befel us which I should like to tell you of. When we had come to the village which is called Ad Scalam, we there wandered away from our true road and the kings highway, for we ought to have climbed the mountain, and ridden past the castle which stands on the top of it; however, we did not do this, but left the mountain and the castle on our left hands, and descended through a valley, by a long and well-beaten road. When at last we gained a view of the plain below the mountains, we saw before us a town of considerable size, at which we were surprised, because we had (not) heard of any town which we should reach on that day. When we arrived at that town we found that it was Bassano, and we perceived that we had gone out of our way; however, we remained there for the night, and drank the red wine which is the especial product of the place until we were both nodding. However, we were very uncomfortable, because there was no one in the inn who could talk German with us, and as we were ignorant of Italian we had to ask for everything by signs.

On the following day we rode to Castel Franco, and thence through Treviso, where we sold our horses, and proceeded on mules to Margerum. At Margerum we bade the land farewell, and put to sea in a barque, wherein we sailed as far as Venice to the Fondaco de' Tedeschi. At the Fondaco itself we inquired about inns for knights and pilgrims, and were conducted by a certain German to the inn of St. George, which is a large and respectable one. There we found many noblemen from various countries, all of whom were bound by the same vow as ourselves, and intended to cross the sea and visit the most Holy Sepulchre of the Lord Jesus. There were also in the other inns many pilgrims, both priests, monks, and laymen, gentle and simple, from Germany, from Gaul, and France, and especially two bishops, my Lord of Orleans and my Lord of Le Mans, with a very large retinue of companions and attendants, were there, awaiting the sailing of a ship; and, moreover, certain women well-stricken in years, wealthy matrons, six in number, were there together with us, desiring to cross the sea to the holy places. I was astonished at the courage of these old women, who through old age were scarcely able to support their own weight, yet forgot their own frailty, and through love for the Holy Land joined themselves to young knights and underwent the labours of strong men.

The proud nobles, however, were not pleased at this, and thought that they would not embark in the ship in which these ladies were to go, considering it a disgrace that they should go to receive the honour of knighthood in company with old women. These haughty spirits all endeavoured to persuade us not to take our passage in the ship in which the old women meant to sail; but other wiser and more conscientious knights contradicted those proud men, and rejoiced in the holy penitence of these ladies, hoping that their holiness would render our voyage safer. On account of this there arose an implacable quarrel between those noblemen, which lasted until it pleased God to remove those proud men from among us. Howbeit, those devout ladies remained in our company both in going thither and in returning.

Now, Master Augustine Contarini, whose name means 'Count of the Rhine,' a noble Venetian, was going to take a cargo of pilgrims, and we agreed with him about the fare, and hired his galley, and received from him berths and cots-that is, places for each of us to lie in the galley- and we hoped for a quick passage, for we had waited for many days while the galley was being fitted for sea. But when everything was ready and there was nothing left to be done but set sail, as we longed to do, there came a ship which brought the bad news that the Emperor of the Turks, Mahomet the Great,* was besieging the island of Rhodes, with a great fleet by sea and a fully-equipped army of horse and foot by land, and that the whole of the Aegean and Carpathian and Malean seas swarmed with Turks, and that it was impossible during this year to take pilgrims across to the Holy Land. It would not be easy for me to tell with what sorrow the pilgrims heard this news, and the troubles and discord and quarrels to which they gave rise among the pilgrims would weary me to tell of. However, in another work I have described all the adversity which we endured at Venice, and how the Frenchmen were separated from us, albeit they belonged to our galley. Now, we German pilgrims met together and waited on the chief of the Venetian Senate with a petition that the lords thereof would have the goodness to protect our galley with a safe-conduct, that she might not be taken by the Turks, and we be taken prisoners with her. To this we received the answer that the galley herself was free, and could pass through the Turkish fleet without being taken, by virtue of the treaty between the Turks and the Venetians; but that they were unwilling to give us any guarantee for the liberty of the pilgrims, and did not advise us to attempt the passage that year. But, if we were altogether determined to go, we might sail as far as the island of Corfu, where lay the Captain of the Sea with the Venetian fleet, and we might safely follow his advice, because he knew all the doings of the Turks. As we agreed to do this, they gave us letters commendatory to the aforesaid captain, and permitted us to go, giving the master of our ship leave to take us to sea, although they had before this forbidden him to take us anywhere.

So we all of us, pilgrims and others, went on board the galley, and the number of pilgrims was one hundred and ten, and that of all the people who embarked in the galley altogether was three hundred and thirty. We weighed our anchors, spread our sails, and set out in the name of God, sailing before the wind, which was fair enough, so that in the space of two hours we had run quite out of sight of land and were on the high sea. However, our fair wind did not last, and on the third day we put in to Parentia, which is in the county of Istria, part of the kingdom of Dalmatia. There the people terrified us by telling us horrible tales about the Turks, wherefore we stayed there for several days, because they told us that we could not reach the island of Corfu unmolested, forasmuch as the Turks had spread their fleet over the whole Adriatic, and made a prey and a spoil of all that met them. Nevertheless, we left that port, and after several days of slow sailing put into Zara, a city in Dalmatia; but on hearing that the plague was raging there, we quickly turned away from that city, and after a slow and tedious voyage reached the city of Lesina, where, just as we were about to enter the harbour, a good wind sprung up, to which we spread our sails, and, leaving Lesina, sailed bravely onwards for some hours. Afterwards there arose a wind which was quite useless to us, and, making a tack, we came upon a rugged and deserted part of the coast of Croatia, and were forced to make for an uninhabited harbour, and to furl our sails amid lofty, precipitous mountains. To divert ourselves we went ashore in small boats, and lo, there lay on the sand a corpse cast up by the sea, putrid and rotten. The sailors, being superstitious, were frightened to death at this discovery, and began to predict evil for us, and drew us far away from the body, nor was there one who took pity on it or gave it burial.

Now these contrary winds rose higher and higher, and for three days and nights we lay among these rocks, and whenever we put out, we were driven back again by the force of the wind, to the great discomfort of us all. Howbeit, this discomfort saved us; for when three days afterwards a fair wind blew out of that place, and we were making for the high sea, we met a Venetian war-galley, which as it passed us asked our officers if 'anything had happened to us at sea yesterday or the day before.' When we answered 'Nothing, except foul winds which had driven us to shelter under the mountains,' they answered, 'Blessed be those winds which drove you into hiding-places. For if you had been on the open sea yesterday, you would have fallen in with an armed Turkish fleet, which is sailing to Apulia to plunder the Christians there.' On hearing this, we praised God, who had for this time saved us from the hands of the Turks.

We went on our way, and after some days came to Curzola in Illyria, and entering the harbour of the city of Curzola early in the morning, we heard a mass there. Curzola is a city in Illyria, and has another name, 'Prepo in alto.' It is built on the top of a high mountain, and is a small, yet populous city, under the dominion of Venice; it is well fortified with walls and towers, and is the seat of a bishop.

The inhabitants were all in great terror, fearing that the Turks, whom they saw daily cruising about the sea in search of plunder, might fall upon them, and they wondered how we could venture to sail on so perilous a sea. The more prudent of them advised us to return, but we took no notice of them. We re-embarked, having bought in this city wine, loaves of bread, and other necessaries; but while they were hoisting the mizen-mast, by the carelessness of one of the sailors, it fell down again, and striking another sailor, killed him on the spot. My Lord Bishop of Le Mans stood close to this dangerous falling spar, and I was by his side with many others, and we were all within a very little of being struck by it and killed. As for the deed man, they wrapped him in a sheet, tied a bag full of stones to his feet, and threw him into the sea.

We sailed fast from Curzola, and about midnight came to Epidaurus, whose modern name is Ragusa. We put into the harbour of Ragusa, cast anchor, moored our ship, and slept until sunrise. After this we entered the city, but found no inns there as in our country. Wherefore I, with my Master George von Stein and some other noblemen, went to a convent of Dominicans, begging them to give us something to eat in return for our money. They brought us good provisions, and capital Sclavonian wine, and treated us handsomely.

Presently the prior of the convent came, bringing two of the brethren with him, named Brother Francis de Catoro, and Brother Dominic, whom he entrusted to my charge, and gave them to me to be my comrades on my journey, for they also desired to go to Jerusalem in our company. At this I was particularly pleased, because hitherto I had been without a brother of my own order, and their company was more desired by me than fine gold. After we had finished our meal and seen the convent, we walked through the city and viewed it, as did also the other pilgrims. We saw that the city was wonderfully well fortified with towers and exceeding deep ditches, which men were in the act of digging out. Wondering at this, we asked them whether they also feared the Turk, although they paid him tribute, They answered, 'We fear him all the same, and are fortifying ourselves against him; for though he be our friend to-day, he will be our foe to-morrow.' They blamed our recklessness in venturing to roam over the sea at such a perilous time, when they themselves did not dare to show themselves at sea; and they tried to persuade us to stay there until better news came. I will describe this city and other places in the account of my return from my second pilgrimage. However, when it grew late, we all went on board our galley, and set sail from the harbour of Ragusa the same evening with a fair wind, and went a long way that night. But at daybreak there arose a strong contrary wind, which drove us out of our true course towards Apulia, which we saw before us; and had not our crew skilfully, retarded our ship, we should have gone ashore upon it. After a long sail, we reached the isles of Gazapolis, and had no wind; nor did we move, save that by the lazy, working of the oars by the crew we slowly crept along.

We thus arrived at a place where a city stands on a mountain overlooking the sea. It is well walled, but is entirely deserted on account of the breath of a dragon, as will be afterwards explained; and next, after a tedious voyage among lofty mountains, we came to a part of the sea, where the galley remained fixed on the surface of the waters, nor could it be moved by the oars to the right nor to the left; but, as I have said, it stood stock still, because beneath it was the whirlpool called the 'Abyss,' or opening into the earth, which there sucks up a great part of the sea, and where the waters sink down into that Abyss. Wherefore the waters stand still above it, awaiting their descent into the Abyss; and when the sea in that region has not much water in it, the water is whirled round, and whatever swims upon it is in danger of being drawn down. And indeed ships would be swallowed up there if their steersmen did not avoid it. So in this place we stood still, and our sailors endeavoured with loud cries and much labour to row the galley away from this gulf, but their labours were in vain. Howbeit, the people of Corcyra, when they saw this-for we were within sight of the island and city of Corcyra-came to our aid from Corcyra, or Corfu, with two small galleys. They made ropes fast to our galley, brought them to their own sterns, and then by rowing their own galleys they, with great force, dragged our galley out of the jaws of the Abyss, lest the deep should swallow us up. Being thus saved, we proceeded to the island of Corcyra, and after sunset entered the harbour of the city, which was full of ships of war, because, as the lords of the Venetian Senate had told us, the Captain of the Sea was there with an armed fleet to keep the peace at sea. So we slept until morning. At daybreak we went ashore to the city in small boats, and found it full of people, and many Turks were walking about among the Christians. After hearing Mass, we Suabian and Bavarian pilgrims hired a small cottage in the suburbs, and there cooked, ate, drank and slept. This cottage was small, and built of beams of very old and very dry wood: wherefore it happened, in consequence of the enormous fire which we made up for cooking, that the place twice actually caught fire; however, we always put out the fire; so that we did not get into any trouble about it. But the second time that this happened, the neighbours, seeing that the roof was on fire, ran together with clamour and lamentation, while we mounted the roof with ladders and took away the food of the flames.

On this occasion we were in no small danger, for if the fire had gathered strength the whole place would have been burned, and the Greek inhabitants of Corcyra would have sacrificed our lives to revenge themselves for the loss of their houses; indeed, they are very unfriendly to Germans, and are easily roused to attack them. After we had eaten, we respectfully presented the letter which we had received from the Venetian Senate to the Captain of the Sea, begging for his advice and assistance to further our pilgrimage. He, after reading it, advised us to return to Venice with our galley; but when he perceived that this advice was grievous, he said in a sort of rage, 'What folly possesses you; that you should wish to expose yourselves to such risks both of body and soul, of life and property? Behold, the sea is covered with cruel Turks, from whose hands there is no chance of your escaping. Go back to Venice, or stay in some seaport, until better news comes. But if you are utterly determined to go to the East, you must manage your passage yourselves, for I will not permit the galley in which you came to sail thither, because she belongs to St. Mark;'

When we heard this, we were much disturbed, and left his presence, asking for time to take counsel. Hereupon the minds of many, especially those of the two bishops, were so wrought upon by the words of the captain, that they determined to return to Venice with all their retinue. Some even of our knights were fearful, and ready to go back; but others were brave and unmoved. I joined these latter, and, as far as I was able, heartened and encouraged the timid ones by preaching to them and quoting such passages of Holy Scripture as might raise in them hopes of divine protection. It befel on one day, when I was absent; that my lords the knights of our company were talking about the perils of our pilgrimage, and some were for going on with it, while others were timid and held back. One of them said, 'You ought not to pay any heed to the words of encouragement which Brother Felix says to you. What is life or death to him? He is a professed monk, and has no property, no friends, no position in life,"nor anything else in the world, as we have. It is easier for him to die quickly by the sword of a Turk or Saracen than to grow old in his convent, dying daily.' And he said much more, trying to prevent the lords from listening to me. All this was told me, and I afterwards turned the tables by putting such courage into that same knight that he could not be persuaded into turning back. The captain kept us in Corcyra for eight days, and every day told us more and more frightful news; but we Germans had all agreed together that we would not go back, but that in the name of the Lord we would go on to Jerusalem. At last, when the captain saw that we were determined to carry out our intention, he left off interfering with our pilgrimage, and we made ready to start, removing ourselves into another galley, which we had bought. When all who wished to make this voyage were together on board of this galley, and we were joyfully talking to one another as we stood on deck beside the Mast, one of the elders asked that silence should be made, and thus addressed us: 'My lords and brother pilgrims, we are undertaking a great, difficult, and arduous matter in making this pilgrimage by sea. And I say to you of a truth that, humanly speaking, we are acting foolishly in exposing ourselves to so great a danger against the advice and persuasion 'of the Captain of the Sea, and of everyone else. Wherefore the lords bishops and all the most noble, powerful, dignified, and perhaps the wisest of our company have given it up, and are on their way back to their own country, following the advice which has been given them, while we are setting out in the opposite direction. Now, therefore, that our attempt may not be a mere act of sinful foolhardiness, we must needs reform our life on board of this galley, and must more frequently invoke the protection of Almighty God 'and his saints,'that we may be able to make our way through the hosts of our enemies and their fleet.' On hearing these words, we unanimously decided that no more games of cards or dice should be played on board of the galley, that no quarrels, oaths, or blasphemies should be allowed, and that the clerks and priests should add litanies to their usual daily prayers. Indeed, before this decree was made much disorder took place in these matters, for men were gambling morning, noon, and night, especially the Bishop of Orleans1 with his suite; and withal they swore most dreadfully, and quarrelled daily, for the French and we Germans were always at blows. Thus it happened that one of the followers of the Bishop of Orleans struck a devout priest of our company, and incurred excommunication. For the French are proud and passionate men; and therefore, I believe that it was by an act of divine providence that they were separated from us, and our galley cleared of them; for we should scarcely have reached Jerusalem in their company without bloodshed and the murder of some of us. We stayed one night in Corcyra, sleeping on board ship; and that same night we had a terrible fright; for when it was late and had grown dark, as we still stood round the mast gossiping, we discovered a strange boat alongside of us, wherein were Turks, spies who were trying to listen to what we were saying. We at once betook ourselves to stones, which we hurled after them as they rowed away; howbeit the boat straightway glided away out to sea and escaped. Next morning our trumpeters blew their horns or trumpets to show that we were about to start, and we cast off the moorings of the galley, and with joy and singing turned our backs to the harbour. The other pilgrims who stayed behind stood on the quay and laughed at us, saying that we were desperate men-waghers. For it was the common talk in Corcyra that we should be taken before we came to Modon. So thus we passed out of sight of Corcyra, and went on our way with joy mixed with fear.

Now those forty pilgrims who were left behind at Corcyra returned in a hired ship to Venice; and when they came thither, they gave it out for certain that we had been taken by the Turks. They told the same story in other cities in Italy, France, and Germany. This they did wishing to excuse their own cowardice by reference to our misfortunes. In consequence of this, requiem masses were said for my soul in several places in Suabia; for the pilgrims spread these lies through the whole of Suabia and Bavaria. Meanwhile. we made a prosperous passage to Modon, and did not see even the smallest boat on the sea, at which the people of Modon were surprised; for all seafaring men there were in great fear. The Germans who dwelt there most earnestly dissuaded us from attempting to go further, and told us many terrible stories; but we, as before, so now were not to be frightened out of accomplishing our journey, and proceeded on our way; and by God's guidance, we reached Crete in peace and without alarm, and joyfully entered the port of Candia. On our arrival one may say that the entire city came out to see us, for it was wondrous, nay miraculous, that a Christian galley should escape from the cruel Turks, whom they saw daily prowling about the sea in armed triple-banked galleys in search of plunder. We entered into the house of a certain German, who albeit he kept a house of ill-fame, yet on our arrival cleansed his dwelling and sent away his courtesans; for there was no other inn there for pilgrims. Oven against this house was another which was an inn for Turkish merchants, and there were actually in it many rich Turkish merchants from Constantinople, who, we were told, said of us, 'Those men are lost if they go any further.' Some of these Turks even came into our house, and advised us not to put to sea for the present, because we should certainly be taken. Moreover, the Duke of Candia and his counsellors, desiring to do us a kindness, sent an orator to us, who in a most elegant Latin speech commended our pilgrimage, and urged many arguments against our going any further, pointing out that beyond this place the danger would be greater than it had been during our voyage hither, because between Crete and Cyprus lay the Island of Rhodes, which was at that time beleaguered by the Turks, and while passing it we could not avoid meeting a Turkish corsair. We remained there for five days, and heard worse news every day; but in spite of this we embarked in our galley and made ready for starting; but we set sail with fear, lest a gale should spring up and carry the galley among the fleet and army of the besieging Turks. However, as soon as we had left the port and were in the open sea, behold, there blew a very strong and most favourable wind, which bore us far away from the islands called Cyclades, whereof Rhodes is thy first. We were driven along by the force of a fair wind, which constantly increased; the sea roared, the waves swelled high, and a violent storm came on. All the upper part of the ship was drenched with water. Nevertheless, this storm was most fortunate for us, both because it bore us towards the port for which we were bound, and also because it rendered us safe from the attacks of the Turks; for it would have been impossible for our ship to be taken when sailing at such a rapid rate.

So we put away all our warlike apparatus, the cannons, spears, lances, shields and bucklers, bows and crossbows, stones and darts with which we had provided ourselves at Corcyra to repel the attacks of the Turks, because we now saw that we had escaped from these enemies of the cross of Christ. On the second day we reached Cyprus, and entered the harbour of Limasol, because a contrary wind forced us to make for a harbour. From thence, when the wind dropped, we sailed to the port of Larnaca, intending to remain there for several days, because the master of our ship had a brother at Nicosia in the service of the Queen of Cyprus, and had some business to transact with him, and bade us wait until it was finished. When his business was settled, we cast off our moorings and desired eagerly to reach our next port, for we had now no place to stop at short of the Holy Land. Sailing along we sighted the Holy Land on the third day, and out of the joy of our hearts we sang 'Te Deum Laudamus' with loud voices, and directed our prow towards Joppa, commonly called Jaffa, and came to an anchor off the rock of Andromeda. Here the master straightway sent a slave to run to Jerusalem and announce our arrival to the Father Warden of Mount Sion, that he might come with his brethren and with asses and their drivers to bring us to Jerusalem. So we abode in our galley for seven days, waiting for our guides, after which we were landed in small boats, and lodged in very old vaulted rooms, which were both ruinous and foul-smelling, wherein we remained for one night only, after this, we mounted the asses which bad been brought for us, and thus, escorted by Saracens, we left the sea and came to the town of Ramleh, wherein we abode for some days, and then entered Jerusalem, where we were taken, not to a hospice, but to a house in Millo, wherein we ate, slept, and so forth.

We did not spend more than nine days in the Holy Land, during which we went the round of all the usual holy places in a great hurry, working day and night at the accomplishment of our pilgrimage, so that we were hardly given any time for rest. Having perfunctorily visited the holy places, and after my Master George von Stein and the other nobles had received knighthood in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, our guides brought us out of the holy city along the road by which we came down to the sea, where our galley lay at anchor. None of the pilgrims remained in Jerusalem save two Englishmen, who wished to go across the desert to St. Catherine's (convent at Mount Sinai), with whom I would willingly have stayed had they known either the German or Latin tongue, but as I could not talk with them their company would have been valueless to me; nevertheless, in spite of all these difficulties, I would have stayed in Jerusalem with them, and would have endured the want of a common language with patience, had I not firmly determined that I would return again to Jerusalem. For from that hour when our time came to leave the holy city, I determined and vowed that I would return as speedily as possible, and I regarded this pilgrimage as merely the preamble to that which I intended to make. As a student who means to commit some passage to memory first reads it over carelessly, and then reads it again slowly and leisurely, taking sufficient time to impress it on his mind, so I did with regard to my determination; and I was far from being satisfied with what I saw, nor did I commit the things which I saw to memory, but kept them for a future pilgrimage.

Now, when we reached the sea, we were all weak with our labours, worn out with the heat, the night-watching, and the hardships which we had endured, and, sick as we were, we were put on board our galley, which became like a hospital full of wretched invaIids. After many days we returned to Cyprus, and after a prosperous voyage reached the harbour which is called Salina. Here we took the more weakly pilgrims to a neighbouring village; but the healthier ones hired horses, and rode together with the captain of the ship to Nicosia, which is the metropolis of Cyprus and the royal residence, and is six German miles distant from the sea. There is an ancient custom that those who have been made knights at the Holy Sepulchre should present themselves to the King of Cyprus, and make a kind of treaty with him, and he calls them his brethren, and enrols their names in his books, giving them each a silver dagger with a sheath and belt. At the end of the dagger hangs a silver-wrought flower, resembling a violet, which is the symbol of the Order.

So my Master George van Stein, whom I never left, rode into Nicosia with me and with the other nobles, and we stayed there three days. Now, as there is no King in Cyprus, the nobles begged the Queen to admit them to the Order of the Kings of Cyprus. She invited them into the great hall, and having ranged them in front of her, communicated to them through an interpreter the laws of this Order, which are, that in time of need they should strive to defend the realm of Cyprus, seeing that it lies in the midst of Saracens, Turks, and Tartars. After they had pledged their faith to the Queen with their hands, she gave them their daggers, and permitted them to depart.

After this we rode back again to the sea. On our way we passed the foot of an exceeding high mountain, on the summit whereof is a chapel, in which they told us was the cross of the good thief, wondrously suspended. I should have liked to have seen it, but had not the time, so I put off this also for my next pilgrimage. When we reached the sea and our galley, we found that two pilgrims were dead, one of whom was a priest of the Minorite Order, a brave and learned man, and the other was a tailor from Picardy, an honest and good man. Several others were in the death-agony. We, too, who had come from Nicosia cast ourselves down on our beds very sick; and the number of the sick became so great, that there was now no one to wait upon them and furnish them with necessaries. Howbeit, those ancient matrons, seeing our miseries, were moved with compassion, and ministered to us, for there was not one of them that was sick. Herein God, by the strength of these old women, confounded the valour of those knights, who at Venice had treated them with scorn, and had been unwilling to sail with them. They moved to and fro throughout the galley from one sick man to another, and ministered to those who had mocked and scorned them as they lay stricken down on their beds. Moreover besides our sickness and suffering, the fear of the Turks again laid hold of us, and we now began to be even more afraid of them than we had been before. Meanwhile, the officers had loosed the galley's moorings, but when we put to sea we found no wind to help us, but lay idly rolling off the coast of Cyprus. Wherefore we returned again to Cyprus, and put into the uninhabited harbour of Limona, where we impatiently waited for a fair wind. After two days' waiting we put out to sea; but there came a foul wind, which drove us to sea away from the land and out of our course, and we tossed about uselessly for many days until we began to be short of provisions and to lack all necessaries. During this time one of the knights ended his days most piteously. We wound a sheet about him, weighted his body with stones, and with weeping cast him into the sea. On the third day after this another knight, who had gone out of his mind, expired in great pain and with terrible screams. Him we took ashore for burial in our small boat, for we were then near the shore of Cyrus at Paphos. All this while we were making no way, and were in want of water, bread, and other things. A foul wind carried us out of sight of Cyprus, and for three days and nights we saw no land; then after this we were carried back again to the harbour of Paphos, which is mentioned in the thirteenth chapter of the Acts. In that port we bought necessary stores, left it hurriedly, and were carried along the coast of Cyprus without making any progress on our journey. Besides these misfortunes another great one befel us, for that same night, while the officers of the ship were engaged in managing the sails and tackling of the galley, lo! of a sudden a block fell front the masthead, which struck and killed our best officer, a man whose slightest sign was obeyed by all the sailors and galley-slaves. There was exceeding great lamentation in the galley at this man's death, nor was there his like on board to take his place. For many days we sailed slowly and tediously, hoping to arrive at some port in Crete and to get clear of Rhodes, but being unable to do so. One day we saw, a long way off at sea, a war-galley coming swiftly after us, and we were terribly afraid, thinking that the Turks were coming; but when it came nearer we saw that it was a Venetian galley, and laying aside the arms which our captain had ordered to be brought out to defend us against the' Turks, we awaited the approach of the galley that we might hear her news. When she came near, we learned that the Turks had been defeated, and had raised the siege of Rhodes and retired in confusion. On hearing this news we were filled with unspeakable joy, and turning the head of our galley away from its former course, we pointed it towards the Isle of Rhodes. Howbeit, we did not reach it for many days, being delayed by contrary winds. Moreover, we were carried into the country of the Turks, and passed through a channel where we had Turkish land and mountains on either side of us. Here our terrors were renewed and we feared that perhaps the Turks, if they saw us, would wreak their vengeance upon us for their defeat at Rhodes. We had no wind, too, and passed the Turkish land in most wearisome fashion by the slow labour of the oars. At last there came a wind which took us clear of the land, and suddenly brought the galley to the Isle of Rhodes; but we came along by a mountainous coast far from the city of the Colossae. Howbeit, we came to a place where a fountain of living water flows from the foot of a mountain, to which the sailors launched a boat and rowed with barrels and brought fresh water on board our galley. When they returned on board, all the passengers ran from their berths and beds, carrying dishes, pots, basins, flasks, glasses, and bottles, to beg water from the sailors and boatmen. There was more struggling and pushing to get water than I ever saw for wine or bread. The men willingly and cheerfully gave some to each of us, and by the taste of that fresh water we were revived, and seemed to come to life again, even as plants and trees, which have been scorched and stricken down by the heat of the sun, grow green again when sprinkled by the rain and dew. The whole galley was exhilarated by the taste of this water, and those who before had scarcely been able to breathe now began to sing, for water when drunk after one has been long athirst makes a man as merry as a moderate draught of wine. What miseries and hardships we had undergone since we left the harbour of Joppa in the Holy Land until we reached this place, I am not able to tell. During those days of suffering I often wondered how any man can be so luxurious as to be troubled well nigh throughout the year by the thought of the forty days' fast of Lent and the bread-and-water fast on Good Friday. O, if during those days we had had only once a day, I do not say Lenten fare in abundance, but even as much as is given by weight and measure on Good Friday, we should have been quite willing to fast, for on Good Friday those who fast receive good new bread, and clear, cool, sweet, well-tasted water; and if we had had this we should have thought ourselves happy, seeing that on board we had only foul and stinking water, and if any of the sailors had water which did not yet stink, the pilgrims would buy it for more than the price of wine, albeit it was lukewarm, whitish, and discoloured. Nay, what seems even more strange to those who have not experienced such a voyage, and more piteous to those who have, we were in such a state of want and wretchedness that even putrid, stinking water was precious, and the captain and all the ship's officers were in great anxiety lest we should run out even of such water as that. The captain, therefore, gave orders that the steward should no longer give drinking-water of this sort to the animals which were kept on board to be slaughtered for food, but that it should be kept for the human beings, because it was more cruel that they should die of thirst than the brutes. So there the sheep, goats, mules, and pigs, stood for several days without water perishing of thirst. During those days I often saw these creatures licking the planks and the spars, sucking off them the dew which had gathered in the night. And although we had an infinite expanse of waters all around us, yet seawater is not drinkable either for man or beast, for to drink that water kills a man or a beast instead of refreshing him. I do not tell you of the stale bread, the biscuit full of worms, the tainted meat, and the abominable cookery, with all of which we should have been content if we had had wholesome water in good measure, if not for the sound men, at least for the unhappy sick ones. Oftentimes I have suffered so dreadfully from thirst and have had such a longing for cool water that I have thought that, when I got back to Ulm, I would go up straightway to Blauburen and sit down beside the lake which rises there out of the depths until I had satiated my desire. There was no lack of wine in the alley-indeed, one could easily obtain it in abundance and very good-but we took no pleasure in it without mixing it with water, because of its strength and lukewarmness. So much for this matter.

Now, from the place where we drank the water we were suddenly carried by a fair wind to the port of the Colossus, which is in front of the city of Rhodes. It was night, about nine o'clock in the evening, and we could see whither we were going clearly, thanks to the brightness of the moon. When we attempted to enter the harbour, and our sailors were, after their fashion, noisily labouring to trim the sails, the people ashore lighted beacons on their towers, and made a great disturbance running to and fro on the walls, thinking us to be their enemies the Turks, and they alarmed us much by firing a big cannon at us. In great terror we also lit many lights and stood on the deck of the galley begging them not to hurt us, for that we were marked with the sign of the cross, and friends of Him crucified, whose enemies we knew well had but a short time before been laid low in this very place. When the guards of the harbour heard this, they turned away the engines which they had prepared to cast great stones at us and unstrung their bows. Next, people ran together from all parts of the city to the top of the wall, carrying lighted torches, eager to see the Christian strangers, for since they had driven off the Turkish fleet they had seen no Christian ship.

Now a watchman on a tower hailed us, asking who we were and whence we came. One of the sailors thoughtlessly answered, 'We are Venetians, and the galley belongs to St. Mark.' But the captain ordered him to be struck on the mouth, and told another sailor to shout, 'This galley comes from Joppa, and in it are knights, pilgrims from Jerusalem, and we intend to sail to Italy.' For the captain was afraid that, being a Venetian, he would not be a welcome guest, since the Rhodians did not love the Venetians because of their alliance with the Turks. When the watchmen on the towers told the people that we were pilgrims, they greeted us as friends, and permitted us to anchor our ship outside the harbour, but would not let us come into the harbour for fear of treachery. So, when the ship was anchored, we went below to our berths, and slept till morning.

On the morrow, before we had risen, there came some of the lords of Rhodes to us to examine the galley and to see the pilgrims. We rowed into the city with them, passing through the bodies of dead Turks cast up by the sea, wherewith the shore was covered. When we entered the city we found it terribly ruined, full of stone cannon-balls, great and small, which the Turks had fired into it, of which there were said to be eight thousand and one scattered about the streets and lanes. The walls and towers were sadly ruinous, and we saw many other things, of which I will tell you when I come to this place again in my second pilgrimage. We remained at Rhodes four days, and spent a great deal of money, for everything was exceeding dear because the Turks had plundered and laid waste the island. I bought two fowls for my Master George for a ducat, because he was in weak health, as I myself was likewise, for I was at that time suffering from dysentery, and almost despaired of my life.

At last the time came when we had to leave Rhodes, and there embarked with us on board of our galley some of the Knights of St. John, and some who had for a long time been captives among the Turks, who had been sent to Rhodes with the Turkish army, and had deserted to that city during the siege. We also carried with us some Jews who had fought bravely during the siege. Among those who had escaped from captivity among the Turks was an Austrian nobleman, whom we found in a miserable condition, and whom my Master George took under his protection and brought back to Germany. By the embarking of so many people our galley became crowded and uncomfortable, and during our voyage we were driven hither and thither by contrary winds, and suffered much want before we reached a harbour in Crete. When we arrived there we entered the city of Crete (Candia), and stayed there for a few days, after which we went on board the galley one day late in the evening, bringing our purchases with us, and intending to sail the same night. When day broke and the galley was loosed from the mooring-posts, as they were violently directing her head towards the wind, the helm or rudder struck upon the rocks and broke under water; and the ship was within a little of striking her beak-head upon the rocks which ran out from the shore, in which case the whole galley would have broken up and we should have perished. Wherefore, a loud shout was raised, and people came running from the city to help us. As the rudder was broken we could not sail, but brought back our galley into the harbour to the place where she lay before. Here a waterman made arrangements for the repair of our rudder, which he did as follows, while we looked on. He stripped to his drawers, and then taking with him a hammer, nails, and pincers, let himself down into the sea, sank down to where the rudder was broken, and there worked under water, pulling out nails and knocking in others. After a long time, when he had put everything right, he reappeared from the depths, and climbed up the side of the galley to where we stood. This we saw; but how that workman could breathe under water, and how he could strike with his hammer there, and how he could remain so long in the salt water, I cannot understand. But this much I know, that the human mind has dominion over fire and water, even as the stars have dominion over the human mind. When our rudder was mended and we were thinking of getting away, there rose a contrary wind, so that the galley could not so much as get out of the harbour; so we returned to our former lodgings in the city, and ate and drank there.

This is one of the best and richest of sea-ports, and is full of all manner of good things; the speciality of the place, however, is the Cretan wine, which we call Malvoisie, which is renowned throughout the world, and everything is cheap there. So we did not mind staying there, but enjoyed it. When about the time of vespers we were called on board the galley, some came soon and others late. I myself was one of the first on board, and stood on the poop of the galley to watch whether any strangers besides those who had joined us at Cyprus or Rhodes would come on board; and there came two Greek bishops, with many others. As for what other things I saw there I would not write them down if I wished these 'wanderings' to be a grave narrative; but, as I promised my brethren in my epistle dedicatory, I often mix fun and amusement with serious matters. So while I was standing there watching those who were coming on board, I saw many of our pilgrims standing by the sea-side on the edge of the quay, with their heads dizzy, and afraid to come down into the boats, for the Cretan wine, which is sweet and pleasant to drink, makes the head dizzy when drunk in large quantities. Now, there were stone steps on the shore leading up to the city wall, down which those who wished to come on board the galley had to walk, and get into a small boat, in which they were brought alongside of the galley, and then again they had to get out of the boat and climb up some more steps into the galley. That evening many of them found it so difficult to do this that they had to be carried from the steps down the city wall into the boat, and from the boat into the galley, and right into their berths. Among the rest there came a pilgrim, who was the servant of some grandees in that city, and who was carrying his masters' baggage, together with some flasks of wine and a bag full of new bread, so that he was bowed down by his burden, besides being far gone in drink. When he came upon the steps and began to walk down them to the waterside to reach a boat there, he sudden}lye pitched headlong into the deep sea with all that he was carrying. At the cry which was raised by the bystanders, boatmen straightway rowed their skiffs to the place where he fell in, and, as he rose, dragged him out; howbeit, the loaves of bread and all that he was carrying floated over him, and were all utterly ruined. There was a pilgrim, a Dalmatian priest, whom I knew very well, who also had drunk too much sweet wine, so that he had much trouble to get on board the galley as far as the mast, where he stood talking to another Dalmatian until dark. He stood near a hatchway, through which people do not go below by night, but only in the daytime, for as soon as night comes on the ladder is taken down, so that those who sleep on that side of the ship may not be disturbed by people coming and going. So when this good pilgrim had finished his talk, and we on the lower deck were all lying in our beds gossiping, he wished to get into his berth through the nearest hatchway, and, being unsteady on his legs, he fell down through the hatchway on to the lower deck with such a crash that his fall shook the whole galley, for he was a big fat man. We all lay silent and terrified, and waited to hear who it was that had fallen. He straightway arose unhurt, and angrily began in a stammering voice, 'There now! I had the ladder under my feet, and had come down three steps, when somebody pulled it from under my feet, and I fell down.' To this someone answered that the ladder had been taken down an hour before, but he replied, 'That is not true, because I had come down three steps, and while I was standing on the third step it was pulled away from me.' On hearing this we all burst out laughing, as we knew that the ladder had been taken away an hour before, and I, being glad that my friend had not been hurt by so high and dangerous a fall, laughed most immoderately. When he heard me laughing he was furiously angry with me. 'So,' said he, 'now I see clearly that it was you, Brother Felix, who pulled the ladder from under me. You shall assuredly not leave this galley before I have my revenge upon you!' When I tried to clear myself he became all the more angry, and cursed me, swearing that on the morrow he would take vengeance on me. Howbeit, the sleep which followed cured all these sick and dizzy men who had been the worse for Cretan wine, and on the morrow they had forgotten all about this. But if that pilgrim had suffered that fall sober, without being in liquor, he would very likely have broken his legs or his neck, for it commonly happens that in dangerous feats drunken men are more lucky, though not wiser, than others.... After the night in which this happened we unmoored our ship, and were carried out of the harbour by the wind. But after we had gone a little way there arose a contrary wind, and we tossed upon the waves without making any progress. The sailors, therefore, tried to get back into the harbour of Crete, but as the wind was foul they could not. Moreover, the sea between us and Candia grew rough, and the waves ran high. The officers, seeing that it would be rash to expose so deeply-laden a ship to the full force of the winds and waves, endeavoured to reach the land by sailing near the wind, and thus with great labour we reached the mountainous part of Crete, about two miles from the town, and there cast anchor in a sterile and desert region. On the following night we set sail, and found a very strong wind at sea, but a foul one, and during that night and the following day we underwent a heavy storm. On the next night, which was the Feast of St. Michael, the sea was frightfully disturbed, more than we had seen it during the whole of our voyage. During this storm many made vows to the Lord; for instance, some who had hitherto passed the evening of Michaelmas day in gluttony, vowed that they would spend it in fasting for the rest of their lives. The wild waters broke on board of us and caused us much discomfort, and we were all sick, and suffered with headaches and vomiting through the motion of the ship. During the course of this storm the wind, which before had been a foul one, became a fair one for us, and, sailing very swiftly, we passed many places and came close to Modon, but were not able to get into the harbour there; so, for fear we might be driven back again by the force of the wind, we entered a deserted harbour between walls of rock. As this place was scarcely one German mile from Modon, we pilgrims took our baggage ashore, made our way to Modon by land, and there awaited the arrival of the galley. From thence, leaving Modon, we came after a quick passage, to Corcyra, where the other pilgrims left us. In the evening of the same day we sailed from Corcyra to the isles of Gozapolis.

But while it was yet dark, and no stars could be seen, as we tacked to windward there arose a most frightful storm, and a terrible disturbance of the sea and air. Most furious winds tossed us aloft, lightning flashed, thunder roared dreadfully; moreover, on either side of us fearful thunderbolts fell, so that in many places the sea seemed to be on fire. The rain, too, fell in such torrents as though entire rain-clouds had burst and fallen upon us. Violent squalls kept striking the galley, covering it with water, and beating upon the sides of it as hard as though great stones from some high mountains were sent flying along the planks. I have often wondered when at sea in storms how it can be that water, being as it is a thin, soft and weak body, can strike such hard blows against whatever it meets, for it makes a noise when it runs against the ship as though millstones were being flung against her; and one cannot wonder at its breaking up a ship even though she were built of iron. Waves of seawater are more vehement, more noisy, and more wonderful than those of other water. I have had great pleasure in sitting or standing on the upper deck during a storm, and watching the marvellous succession of gusts of wind and the frightful rush of the waters. Storms are endurable by day, but at night they are too cruel, especially when they are violent ones like that of which I am now speaking: for this was a very fierce storm, and the darkness was intense, nor was there any light save the continual flashes of lightning. So fierce a wind kept tossing the galley up and down, rolling it from side to side and shaking it about, that no man could lie in his berth, much less sit, and least of all stand. We were obliged to hang on to the pillars which stood in the middle of the cabin supporting the upper works, or else to crouch on our bended knees beside our chests, embracing them with our hands and arms, and so holding ourselves still; and while doing so, sometimes big heavy chests would be upset, together with the men who were clinging to them. For the galley moves so violently, and in such different directions, that it upsets everything that stands, and, which sounds miraculous but is perfectly true, even things which were hanging up against the bulk-heads came off their hooks and fell down. Although the ship was everywhere dressed with pitch and the other things which are used to prevent leakage and to keep out the water, yet during this storm the water came in through unsuspected leaks everywhere, so that there was nothing in the whole ship which was not wet; our beds and all our things were sopping, our bread and biscuit all spoiled by the sea water. On the lower deck was terror and misery; on the upper deck toil and trouble. The wind blew our mainsail all to pieces, so the sailors lowered the yard, and bent to it another sail, for use in storms, which they call 'papafigo'; but after they had hoisted up the yard with the sail furled along it, while the sailors were sitting along the yard letting the ties go, and the sail was falling down, and the sailors on deck were holding in their hands the 'polistrelum,' that is, the rope by which the lower corners of the sail are held, lo! the wind rushed into the sail and filled it with such force that it tore the sheet out of the hands of the sailors, and blew it and the sail itself above the mast-head and above the 'keba,' or 'top,' high into the air: and it blew out so strongly in the wind that the yard bent like a bow, and the very mast itself, although it was big and strong, formed of many beams fastened together, creaked loudly as though it was already split and broken. At this time we were in the greatest danger, for had the mast broken during such a storm, we should soon have been overwhelmed by the sea, galley and all. As a bird cannot fly without its feathers and wings, even so a ship of the greatest burthen cannot move without sails, which are its wings and feathers. So when the poets speak of winged horses, they merely mean ships, as, for instance, Perseus came from Greece on a winged horse, and saved Andromeda from the rock at Joppa, etc. So our mast made many dreadful noises, and the yard likewise; and every joint in the whole galley seemed to be coming to pieces. Nothing ever frightened me in storms so much as the loud groans of the ship, which are so intense that one thinks that the ship must be broken somewhere. Nor can a man refrain from crying out, because of the sudden and dreadful noise of these groans. So there we stood, beholding a sad sight and in imminent danger. As the sail flapped thus in the air, the galley-slaves and other sailors ran to and fro with as much noise and shouting as though they were just about to be run through with swords; some climbed up the shrouds on to the yard, and tried to draw the sail down to them; some on deck below ran about trying to catch hold of the sheet again; some rove ropes through blocks and put brails round the sail. Meanwhile the pilgrims and those who were useless at this work prayed to God and called upon the saints. Some made their confessions as though already at the very point of death; some made great vows that they would travel from hence to Rome, to St. James (at Compostella), or to the house of the Blessed Virgin (at Loretto), if only they might escape from this death; for it is only when death is present before our eyes that we fear it. I thought of the aphorisms of Anacharsis the philosopher, who said that those who are at sea cannot be counted among either the living or the dead. Moreover, he said that they were only removed from death by the space of four fingers, four fingers being the thickness of the sides of a ship. Also, when asked which ships were the safest, he replied: 'Those which lie on dry ground, and not in the sea,' declaring that there was no safety at sea, because of its numerous and sudden perils. In the course of this terrible storm, lo! of a sudden there came an unhoped-for help from heaven. Amid the flashing of the lightning there appeared a light which stood fixed in the air above the prow for some time. Thence it slowly moved throughout the whole length of the galley as far as the stern, where it vanished. This light was a ray of fire about a cubit in width. As soon as the officers, the galley-slaves, and the other sailors, and such of the pilgrims as were on deck, saw this light, they all left off working, ceased their noise and shouting, and kneeling down with their hands raised to heaven, cried out in a low voice nothing except 'Holy, holy, holy.' We who were below, not knowing what was happening, were scared at the sudden quiet and silence, and the unwonted prayer. We imagined that they had given up working in despair, and were crying ' Holy' because they were on the point of death, and we stood astonished, waiting to see what should be the end of this. So someone opened a door which covered the main hatchway of the galley, through which men come down from the deck into the cabin, and called to us in Italian, saying: O. Signori pellegrini, non habeate paura que questo note non avereto fortuna, which is, being interpreted: 'Pilgrims, my masters, fear not, for this night and in this storm we shall suffer no evil, for we have received help from heaven.' After this, as the storm continued, the galley-slaves returned to their accustomed labours, and now they no longer howled as before, but worked with joyous shouts; for they never work without shouting. Let no man suppose that what I have told about the light is false, for it is as true as possible, and I could prove it by the oaths of more than two hundred witnesses who are alive at this day; for the arm of the Lord is not shortened that He should be unable to save those who are in distress. . .

During this storm we made great way on our true course, seeing that the wind blew us along towards the port which we longed to reach, and it lasted all that night and all the next day. When day broke, as the storm still continued, we remained quiet, and bore our lot with patience, as we were without food or drink, for there was no fire in the galley, and the kitchen on deck was full of water; besides which we were all sea-sick, and loathed all food and drink, because our stomachs were upset. Indeed, if anyone had eaten anything while that storm lasted he would not have kept it down, but would have vomited it up again. There is nothing better than to keep one's stomach empty during storms. Moreover, all our bread was spoilt and uneatable with salt water, and therefore we were compelled to fast. On the following day we sailed on, leaving the city of Ragusa on our right hand and Cursula on our left, and came to the city of Lesina, at which we touched and refreshed ourselves, and got rid of our sea-sickness. We remained at Lesina three days, because the wind at sea was very strong, although it was a fair wind for us; we waited also in order to recruit the strength of the pregnant lady, who had suffered much and become very weak during the gale; indeed, it is a wonder that both she and her infant did not perish during that terrible time. After this we set sail from Lesina with a fair wind.

But just as night was coming on the wind grew very much stronger, and cast us sideways among rough places full of cliffs and rocks, where it was impossible to sail at night. We made for the foot of a precipitous mountain, and, casting the lead, tried to find a bottom on which we could anchor, because the darkness had come upon us so suddenly that we could not reach any port, neither could we proceed any further. Now when we were close to the mountain and were trying to turn the galley head to wind, it was struck by the wind and waves so violently that it became unmanageable, and threatened to run its bows ashore on the precipitous rocks, in which case the galley would have broken up. The galley-slaves, seeing the peril as the vessel swung about, made the heavens ring with their shouts, and began to run hither and thither and prepare to make their escape. Meanwhile, the two bishops and we with them were all below, when the bishops' servants ran to the hatchway above us, and cried out in a terrible fright, ' My lords, come on deck; the vessel is a wreck, and is sinking.' Hearing this shout the bishops and their followers jumped up and ran on deck in great disorder, as did the others also; and there was a great crush on the companion ladders and a hurried rush of everybody towards the stern to get into the boats which had been launched. The slaves and the officers had drawn their swords and cut the ropes which held the boats, so that they fell into the sea, in order that the captain himself with his brother, his brother's wife, and his own followers might be the first to escape. Howbeit, no one had as yet got down into the boats, and if one man had got down, there would have been a frightful scene of disorder; for many would have leapt into the boats and injured others already on board of them, who would have cast them into the sea, and those in the boats would have drawn their swords and daggers and kept others from entering them; for at such times of peril boats are often overloaded and sunk, and poor men trying to save their lives push before the others, and are slain by the swords of the nobles and their servants. Moreover, those who see the danger of those in the boats cut off with their swords the fingers and hands of men who are hanging to the oars or to the ship's side meaning to get into the boats, and so they fall into the sea. I have heard horrible tales of shipwrecks from those who have been in such dangers as we seemed about to incur. Howbeit, this time also God saved us; the disorder was quieted, the ship was moored to the rocks, the sails furled, and anchors laid out. Hereupon the galley-slaves, by whose carelessness we had come into such peril, were punished by being severely beaten; but we pilgrims interceded for them, after the model of the divine mercy which had saved us, unworthy as we were, from death. On the morrow we went on our way, left Iadera, a city of Dalmatia, on our left (sic) hand, and continued to run before the wind. But when evening was coming on, a very strong wind began to blow, and as it grew late the sea became rough. We were driven out of our course into very mountainous places, and yet did not dare to put ashore, lest we should fall in with Scylla or Charybdis. We came to a wide channel in which we caught the wind very heavily, nevertheless we tried to anchor in the middle of it; so we cast our lead, and found an enormous depth. We therefore sailed further; hut when the sun set and darkness came on we could not go further without great danger. So we sounded again, and found the bottom, but at an immense depth; but nevertheless we let go our great anchor, to hold the galley. But the anchor when it reached the bottom found neither rocks nor stones nor sand into which it could stick its fangs, but dragged over the bottom after the galley as she sailed along, to our great discomfiture. So with enormous labour the anchor was weighed, and dropped in another place, where it again followed the galley just as a plough follows a horse. It was then weighed again, and we dropped it in a third place, where it caught upon a rock; but when the galley was stopped, and rode to her cable, sheering from side to side, the fluke of the anchor slipped off this rock, and began to drag again, but of a sudden came upon another rock where it stuck fast. So there we hung throughout night. We pilgrims betook ourselves to our beds, but the captain and all the officers and galley-slaves were all night without sleep, expecting their own death and ours at every moment; for the wind blew hard and the galley tossed much, because we were not anchored in a harbour, sheltered from the force of the wind, and therefore the officers feared that the anchor might come away from the rock, or that the cable might part; and had either taken place we must have perished; for we were in Quarnero, the most dangerous gulf in that sea, over against the port of Ancona, where the sea runs very high. Wherefore, considering the danger in which we were, the captain vowed that as soon as he reached the port of Parenzo he would straightway sail with all the pilgrims to the Island of St. Nicholas, and there hear masses said and sung in thanksgiving for our escape, which was done; for on the morrow we weighed anchor, sailed past many cities of Dalmatia, and reached Parenzo in Istria; and on the next day we went with the captain and performed our vow. At Parenzo we remained for five days, and then we came to the port of Venice in one day's sail. At last we reached the city of Venice and broke up our company, every man going to his own home.

Meanwhile, I had become sick, not so that I was bedridden; but I was too ill to walk or to ride a horse, until I recovered. So my Master George and the other nobles went home; but I remained at Venice in the hands of physicians for about fifteen days, after which, having recovered my health, I set out from Venice in company with a merchant, bought a horse at Treviso, and travelled with my comrade as far as Trent. From Trent I came alone to Nassereit. Arriving there in the afternoon, I found in the inn four of my brother pilgrims from the Holy Land- Englishmen, and we greeted one another with joy. They were making ready to start, wishing to cross the mountain which is called Sericius that same day; but I begged them to wait till the morrow, that we might journey to Ulm together; for I was aweary, and did not wish to start on that day. They asked me to ride with them, which I did not wish to do; but begged them to stay with me in the name of our fellowship and friendship. But they would not, because they told me that they had heard for certain that on that very day a great company of armed knights of the court of the Duke of Austria was coming to that village and inn; and they wished to avoid them, as it was not safe to live among men-at-arms. So we parted from one another again, for they went on, and I stayed behind. In the evening there came to the inn many armed noblemen with their retainers, who had been sent by the Duke of Austria to defend the castle of Kregen, which Count Eberhard the elder of Wurtemburg was besieging and trying to destroy. So the inn was full of fierce men-at-arms; but when they heard that I had come from the Holy Land they treated me with respect as a priest and monk, and also as a soldier of the Holy Land and the Holy Sepulchre, and invited me to say Mass for them on the morrow, and travel with them. On the morrow I celebrated Mass, and breakfasted with them; and when we set out they paid my bill for me, and took me with them in the midst of their force with pleasure and comfort. When we arrived at Kempten I found there at the Crown Inn the four afore-mentioned English pilgrims, wounded, beaten, and robbed of all their property, in the greatest sorrow and shame and wretchedness. For in a wood near Kempten robbers had fallen upon them, stricken them from their horses with swords, and when they attempted to repel force by force and defend themselves, had wounded them with cuts of their swords, bound them, and dragged them away from the public road into the inner part of the wood to a lonely field, where they plundered them with many insults, searched their wallets, emptied their purses and scrips, stripped them quite naked, and searched their clothes with great care to find whether they had sewn any money into them. At last they gave them some worse clothes in exchange, and forced them to swear an oath that for the space of three days they would tell no one what had befallen them. I was very sorry for my brethren, but I congratulated myself at not having remained in their company; for if so I should like them have fallen into the hands of those robbers. On the morrow I arrived at Memmingen with those knights, and I spent that day there. On the following day, which was the feast of St. Othmar, I travelled from Memmingen to Ulm in company with a priest. On entering my convent I was gladly and kindly received, and so I betook me to my wonted labours in my cell. I may say with truth that this first pilgrimage of mine was a hundredfold more toilsome and grievous to me than my second one, and much more dangerous both by sea and by land. Our company of pilgrims during my first pilgrimage was more disorderly, for there were among them many very passionate men, and there were daily quarrels, and some thievish Picards, and some were always sick; indeed, in every way this my first journey was much more grievous, albeit my second journey was much more toilsome, more distant, more expensive, and more dangerous; yet I endured more and more deadly perils on my first journey than I did on my second. By this all men may see clearly how untrue is the common saying, that the pilgrimage by sea from Venice to the Holy Land is a mere pleasant excursion with little or no danger. O my God,what a hard and tedious excursion: with how many sufferings was it spoiled. During this excursion I saw many vigorous young noblemen perish, who once had thought in their own conceit that they could rule the waves of the sea and weigh the lofty mountains in scales; but who at last died by the just judgment of God, broken down by hard ships and lamentably humbled in spirit. May God give those who call this pilgrimage an easy excursion the power of feeling its sorrows, that they may learn to have the compassion for pilgrims to the Holy Land which they deserve. It requires courage and audacity to attempt this pilgrimage. That many are prompted to it by sinful rashness and idle curiosity cannot be doubted; but to reach the holy places and to return to one's home active and well is the especial gift of God.

Here endeth Brother Felix Fabri's first wandering to the Holy Land.