think it equally desirable to erect a burial-place near such a
monument, which they show with pride to their friends and relations.
Round this monument there were large spaces covered with tombs.

On the return from this monument, I went a little out of my way to
see that part of the town which had fallen into ruins, and been
desolated by the last plague. Herr Swoboda, an Hungarian, gave me a
dreadful picture of the state of the town at that time. He had shut
himself closely up with his family and a maid servant, and being
well furnished with provisions, received nothing from outside but
fresh water. He carefully plastered up the doors and windows, and
no one was allowed to go out upon the terraces, or, indeed, into the
air at all.

These precautions were the means of preserving his whole family in
health, while many died in the neighbouring houses. It was
impossible to bury all the dead, and the bodies were left to
decompose where they died. After the plague had ceased, the Arabs
of the desert made their appearance for the purpose of robbing and
plundering. They found an easy spoil, for they penetrated without
resistance into the empty houses, or without difficulty overpowered
the few enfeebled people who remained. Herr Swoboda, among the
rest, was obliged to make an agreement with the Arabs, and pay
tribute.

I was glad to leave this melancholy place, and directed my steps
towards some of the pleasant gardens, of which there are great
numbers in and round Baghdad. None of these gardens, however, are
artificial; they consist simply of a thick wood of fruit-trees, of
all species (dates, apple, apricot, peach, fig, mulberry, and other
trees), surrounded by a brick wall. There is, unfortunately,
neither order nor cleanliness observed, and there are neither grass
plots nor beds of flowers, and not a single good path; but there is
a considerable number of canals, as it is necessary to substitute
artificial watering for rain and dew.

I made two long excursions from Baghdad; one to the ruins of
Ctesiphon, the other to those of Babylon. The former are eighteen,
the latter sixty miles distant from Baghdad. On both occasions,
Major Rawlinson provided me with good Arabian horses, and a trusty
servant.

I was obliged to make the journey to Ctesiphon and back again in one
day, to avoid passing the night in the desert; and, indeed, had to
accomplish it between sunrise and sunset, as it is the custom in
Baghdad, a