The Grand Tour —
or Great Escape (Part One)
The Owl
Vol. 2, Issue 9
February 28,
2008
Baltimore, Maryland
Dear Inquiring Traveler,
This week we hear about someone who set off on the Grand Tour to explore the ancient world for himself, but was inspired to reflection — and direct action — by what he found there in his day.
Read on to learn about his scandalous adventures — and to see that many of the hazards he encountered then are still travel risks today.
Editor, The Owl
________________________________________
The Grand Tour — or Great Escape
by Madeleine Zhang
The Grand Tour was almost de rigueur for young men of means in the 18th and 19th centuries, a kind of on-the-road finishing school or extended gap year and rite of passage. A certain George Gordon took full advantage of the rite of passage element to explore his sexuality and was one of the more famous figures to make the tour.
But perhaps it would be more accurate to call his travels Great Escapes—he made not one, but two—as he left first in 1809 with debts of £13,000 (£715,000 in today’s money or $1,404,000), and again in 1816 to escape further scandal and censure for his work, having acquired a reputation for being “mad, bad, and dangerous to know”.
George Gordon was none other than Lord Byron.
With no father, wealthy relatives or benefactors to finance the trip, nor experienced tutor as a guide, Byron left on his first tour with just one friend, John Cam Hobhouse, and a trusted valet. Like many modern-day travelers, he traveled on credit, borrowing almost £5,000 for this venture, and recorded most of what he saw in various letters, diaries—and poems.
Political boundaries
|
In many ways, his journey was not unlike the tours we take today. As with modern-day travel, the small group’s itinerary was dictated by the political boundaries of the day. The two friends had to start their trip in Portugal: France being out-of-bounds during the Napoleonic wars.
And, like many privileged travelers today, they complained about the poor accommodation available and were not always impressed by what they saw.
In Portugal Byron was, however, inspired enough to swim across the Tagus in Lisbon, and declared the village of Sintra “the most beautiful, perhaps in the world.” The two young men then crossed a Spain at war on horseback via Seville and Cadiz. One of the main amusements then, as now, were the bullfights. And the local beauties didn’t go unnoticed either.
From Gibraltar they sailed to Malta, and Byron got up to various high jinxes, attempting to visit the female slave market and narrowly avoiding a duel.
Malta was also where the two friends met a man called Spiridion Forresti, Corfu’s former British consul, a colorful worldly character with many entertaining anecdotes who must have made a strong impression on the young Byron.
Meet the local tyrant
Forresti eventually persuaded them to visit Albania and meet local ruler Ali Pacha. Perhaps they didn’t need much persuading—after all, this was an off-the-Grand-Tour-track, well away from polite society’s prying eye. For that alone, Lord Byron would have been tempted.
Forresti’s talk of the tyrant Ali Pacha’s barbaric cruelty may even have been taken as a challenge to their bravery, but the trip went smoothly and Byron was well received in the court of this self-appointed ruler, more powerful than the Sultan in that part of the world.
The Expatriate's Tax Bible: The Complete Guide to U.S. and Foreign Taxes for the American Abroad Don't pay a cent more in taxes than absolutely necessary. Understand the filing rules for overseas Americans, and you could save yourself hundreds—even thousands—of dollars this year.
|
It was perhaps at this point also that the Suliotes became Lord Byron’s heroes, as, according to Hobhouse, Mr. Forresti “mentioned some curious passages from the wars of the Suliotes written in Modern Greek.” The Suliotes, a group of Christians driven out of Greece by the Turks, were to play a fatal role in the last year of Byron’s life.
When they eventually reached Athens, they decided to stay there for some months, visiting Parnassus, Sunium, and the plain of Marathon then moving on to Smyrna and the ruins of Ephesus. In Constantinople, Byron swam the Hellespont, and was moved by what he learned of the last days of Sultan Selim III, a would-be reformer of the Ottoman Empire who was assassinated before completing his plans.
As well as seeing ancient ruins close-up and discovering more of the region’s political situation, Byron learnt a great deal about romance…and enjoyed several affairs with men and women during his travels.
No details spared
Throughout his adventures, Byron gives regular accounts of the diarrhea, food poisoning, mosquito bites, vermin, rip-off schemes, and other inconveniences that the traveler risked in foreign lands—risks still run today. On his second journey, he may have wished he had been more cautious.
|
An overnight sensation
Eventually, the money ran out, and Byron left Greece, returning to England in July 1811. The first cantos of his epic poem, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, about his travels and thoughts on what he saw when abroad, were instant best-sellers. They touched a popular chord in the somewhat melancholy atmosphere at the end of the Napoleonic Wars.
Next week, you'll find out what happened during Lord Byron's second tour.
|
