in Belgrade, as if I had resided months in the city.

The fare of a boat from Semlin to Belgrade by Austrian rowers is five
zwanzigers, or about _3s. 6d._ English; and the time occupied is half
an hour, that is to say, twenty minutes for the descent of the Danube,
and about ten minutes for the ascent of the Save. On arrival at the
low point of land at the confluence, we perceived the distinct line of
the two rivers, the Danube faithfully retaining its brown, muddy
character, while the Save is much clearer. We now had a much closer
view of the fortress opposite. Large embrasures, slightly elevated
above the water's edge, were intended for guns of great calibre; but
above, a gallimaufry of grass-grown and moss-covered fortifications
were crowned by ricketty, red-tiled houses, and looking very unlike
the magnificent towers in the last scene of the Siege of Belgrade, at
Drury Lane. Just within the banks of the Save were some of the large
boats which trade on the river; the new ones as curiously carved,
painted, and even gilded, as some of those one sees at Dort and
Rotterdam. They have no deck--for a ridge of rafters covers the goods,
and the boatmen move about on ledges at the gunwale.

The fortress of Belgrade, jutting out exactly at the point of
confluence of the rivers, has the town behind it. The Servian, or
principal quarter, slopes down to the Save; the Turkish quarter to
the Danube. I might compare Belgrade to a sea-turtle, the head of
which is represented by the fortress, the back of the neck by the
esplanade or Kalai Meidan, the right flank by the Turkish quarter, the
left by the Servian, and the ridge of the back by the street running
from the esplanade to the gate of Constantinople.

We landed at the left side of our imaginary turtle, or at the quay of