Old tracks and new landmarks, wayside sketches in Crete, Macedonia, Mitylene, etc.

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

PRESENTED BY

PRO F.CHARLES A. KOFOID AND
MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID

OLD TRACKS
AND NEW LANDMARKS

OLD TRACKS
AND NEW LANDMARKS

Sfeetcbes in Crete, flfcacefconia,
/KMtglene, etc*

BY

MARY A. WALKER

AUTHOR OF

THROUGH MACEDONIA,' 'EASTERN LIFE AND SCENERY,' 'UNTRODDEN PATHS IN
KOUMANIA,' ETC.

REPUTED BURIAL-PLACE OF HANNIBAL.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON
RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON

•Publishers in ©rbimirjj to gji
1897

[A II rights reserved}

H. E.,

THE BARONESS DE CALICE,

TO WHOSE

KINDLY SYMPATHY WITH MY WORK AND WANDERINGS

I OWE MUCH OF THE HAPPINESS OF MY LIFE IN THE EAST,

THESE RAMBLING SKETCHES

ARE

RESPECTFULLY AND VERY LOVINGLY OFFERED.

August, 1897.

[ vii ]

PREFACE.

Extract from a letter to the Author from Sir
Donald Mackenzie Wallace.

DEAR MRS. WALKER,

In general terms I may say that your
simple, unpretentious, graphic sketches are quite
charming, just what I expected, from my recol-
lection of previous work of yours. Though I
have not visited all the places which you so
graphically describe, my long residence in Turkey
enables me to form a good general estimate of
the accuracy of your descriptions ; and I do not
hesitate to say that those light and airy sketches
convey more of the local colouring and the subtle
local aroma — if I may be allowed to use such an
expression — than any of the numerous books of
travel in Turkey which I have read. They have
nothing of the guide-book about them, and they

M311806

viii PREFACE

might perhaps be described as mere impressions ;
but they have none of the tantalizing vagueness
of the so-called impressionist school. Still less
are they the impressions of the globe-trotter.
They are, in fact, in spite of this apparent sketchi-
ness, very carefully drawn little pictures by one
who has a keen, practised eye for picturesque
little details and an intimate knowledge not only
of the past history of the country, but also of the
character and customs of the various sections of
the population, the keenness of observation and
accuracy of knowledge being always tempered by
that kindly sympathy which helps an outsider to
see things from the inside.

You are quite at liberty to make any use you
think fit of this letter, for it is written by me, not
as a friend, but as an impartial critic.
Yours very truly,

DONALD MACKENZIE WALLACE.
LONDON,

September 21, 1897.

[ix J

CONTENTS.

AN OLD PORTFOLIO - - I

HAI'DAR PASHA IN 1857.

A peaceful scene — The iron doorway and the holy well —
In the shade of the plane-trees — The bay of Kadikeuy —
Stamboul from Asia as seen forty years ago - 3

ON THE ROAD TO ISMIDT, 1880.

Railway encroachments — An unexplored passage — The
' tchousch ' vines of Kizil Toprak — Site of a summer palace
of Justinian — Ka'isch Dagh — Bostandji Keupru and Byzan-
tine ruins — Touzla — Guebse — The mosque and the
'mezarlik' — A frugal repast — Two sinless cats — Eski
Hissar, ruined palace and fortress — Herekd — Beautiful
scenery of the Gulf of Ismidt — Mineral baths founded by
St. Helena - 7

ISMIDT.

The fishing nets — The ' tcharshi ' — Clotted cream — Pumpkins
— The cemetery — A ruined cistern — Lukium — Yokkah — An
ancient fountain — Our guide's guide — Old walls of Nico-
media — Emind Hanum and her Imam — A happy marriage —
' Tchorba - morba ' — Our sailors' graves — Ruins of the
time of Diocletian — St. Pantaleimon — The value of a cock's
crow - - - - - - - - 20

CONTENTS

FROM ISMIDT TO ANGORA.

I'AGE

Unhealthy marshes and water-supply—Pliny's preoccupations
— Refugees, good and evil — The lake of Sabandja — Justi-
nian's bridge — In (Eunu and its rock caverns — Eski Shehir
—Hotel Gaetano - 37

THE PLAINS OF ANGORA.

Spring colouring — Storks — Flocks of milk-white kids— Field
flowers — A village of mud huts — Approach to Angora • 47

ANGORA.

Comfortable lodging — Vandalism — The Queen's birthday —
' Tiftik ' and the Angora goats — The weight of a key —
Temple of ' The God Augustus and of The Goddess
Rome ' — A monumental doorway — The Latin inscription —
Discovery of the Greek text — Ruthless destruction — The
T6k6 of Hadji Bai'ram — Column of Julian the Apostate —
Church of St. Clement — Monastery of Vauk — A Byzantine
church — A baptismal font — Cupids or angels ? — Afternoon
tea and the charm of civilization— In the fortress — Vast
panorama — The plain of Tchibouk Abad — Djin Kald —
A marble lion — The Phrygian lion of Kalaba — Hideous
defacement of the Seldjukian fortress — Inscriptions and
sculptured fragments — Some remains of Doryleum - -51

HISTORY OF ANCYRA.

Legendary origin — Derivation of the name — The great
temple— St. Paul — St. Clement — One of the first cities of
Asia Minor — Conquered by Heraclius — Pillaged by Haroun-
al-Rashid — The Seldjuk dynasty— Immense amount of
antiquarian fragments 76

SUMMER DAYS IN CHALCEDON, 1865.

Moda Bournou — A Montenegrin princess— A garden — The
terebinth walk— Happy home - life — Nicodemus and his
peculiar views — Fanaraki, its ruins and its cypresses — A
neglected vineyard — Funereal vases : their destiny — Broken
bits .... ... g0

CONTENTS xi

UNDER THE OAKS AT MERDIVENKEUY.

PAGE

The bullock araba — Story of Don Andrea — Emotional travel-
ling— A shady glade — Turkish open-air life — The cholera —
A fearful visitation — The footsteps in the night — At Haskeuy
— Mosle m piety — Revived hope — The return of the birds - 99

BROUSSA IN 1866.

Seen from the Hotel Loschi — The trysting-tree — A Jewish
patriarch — Hadjis and ze'ibeks — A picturesque group — The
sacrifice of sheep - - 116

THE KEBAB SHOP.

The road through the bazaars — Wayfarers — Camels — A larded
Sauton — The art of cooking kebabs - - 122

BROUSSA IN 1886.

The cradle of the Ottoman race — Genuine Osmanlis — View
from the castle hill — Mountain summits — Forest - clad
slopes— Bounar Bashi — Te'ke's and venerated tombs — The
mosque .of Bajazet - - 126

BROUSSA IN 1896.

Changes, useful but deplorable — Rail from Mondania — Road
to Tchekirghe'— Gheik Derd — The new college - 131

IN MACEDONIA.
CAVALLA.

Striking situation — Fortifications and the Roman aqueduct —
The Via Egnatia — The road to Philippi — Dreams: the
Roman eagle and the Pilgrim's staff - 134

PELLA.

A brilliant cavalcade — The Plain of Vardar — The khan of
Pella — Shade and rest — Remains of a Roman reservoir —
Tumuli — Rough lodgings— The khandji — Travelling re-
sources - - - 138

CONTENTS

VODENA.

PAGE

At the Archbishop's palace — A courteous and anxious host
— Exquisite situation of Vodena — Cascades — Luxuriant
foliage - 146

OCHRIDA.

Churches founded by Justinian — The Metropolitan church —
Interesting inscription — Pauselinos of Thessalonica — The
Albanian mountains — Lake of Ochrida — Our cavalcade-
Costumes — A dignified approach — Monastery of St. Naiim
— Welcoming peals — Elaborate preparations for famished
travellers — Foundation of the monastery — The ' Mission of
Seven ' — Cyril and Methodius — Conversion of King Bogaris
—Tomb of St. Clement — A cure for lunatics — Source of the
Black Drin— Fishing at Struga — Salmon-trout — The fur
trade— Emine Hanum and her Albanian visitor - -152

RECOLLECTIONS OF MITYLENE.

Approach to Mitylene — Difficult disembarkation — Beautiful
scenery — The chair of Potamon — Remains of Temple of
Apollo — Fragments of antiquity — Capitals — Mosaic pave-
ments— May-day garlands — The castle — Ancient cistern —
Climate of Mitylene — Prosperity of the inhabitants —
Gratuitous education— Brisk trade — Testing the wine and
oilskins — The market — Open-air manufactures— ' Rhigani'
— Beauty and costume of the Mityleniotes— The helmet of
Minerva — Erinna, her poems and early death - 167

THE HARBOUR OF THE OLIVES.

On the road to Hiera— Goats and their favourite food —
Beautiful view towards Pergamos and Smyrna — The mineral
springs of Kendros — Volcanic nature of the island — The
hot springs of Polichniti - 186

THERMI, THE GREAT CYPRESS AND THE RUINED AQUEDUCT.

A cargo boat — The baths — An uncanny group of bathers —
Fragments of sculpture and inscriptions — Mineral qualities
of the water — The giant cypress-tree — Superstitions — The
ruined aqueduct— A splendid Roman work— Destruction by
earthquake and vandalism — Water-towers - - 191

CONTENTS xiii

MOLIVO AND PETRA.

PAGE

What waiting means— Up the face of a precipice— Midnight
disturbance and hospitality — The Genoese castle — Volcanic
rocks — Lovely scene from the old bridge — Methymna in
mythological times — Lesbian wine — Its treatment — On the
road to Petra— An ancient subterranean way— The church
on the rock— Arms and emblems of the Gatelutzi family —
A deep well— An early (!) steamer — Waiting— Hospitality
and its possible reward—' The boat ! the boat !' - - 198

IN CRETE.
THE AKROTIRI.

A sandy road — Africa Minor — Aromatic plants — The
' lavdanum ' — View from above Khalepa — A fortified
Venetian house — Difficult climbing — Perfumed breezes —
Sheitanlik— Aghia Triadha— A ghastly closet— Travelling
beehives — The fortified convent of St. John — Married
priests — Beautiful wood-carving — A string of guides —
Exquisite scenery — The cave of the bear — Cream cheese —
Katholico— The stalactite cavern— Dangerous progress-
Legend of the rock chapel of St. Elias - 209

GHONIA.

With Reouf Pasha in the konak— Elaborate preparations for
an excursion — The leper village — Alikianos— An orange
grove — Unhealthy situation — A polite ca'imakam — Unrest-
ful rest — Hospitality at Ghonia — Church pictures and wood-
carving — Cretan notions — Reouf Pasha a beneficent Vali —
Platania — The value of a 'havouz '—Silk-winding — Park-
ke olive grounds — The arsenal — The Arab village — Sub-
cts for the pencil - - 233

THE DANUBE AND THE BOSPHORUS.
THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872.

Varna an open roadstead — Tribulations — Pretty scenery —
Rustchuk — The Danube — The slow service on the
Szechenyi — The dreary Wallachian shore — Fellow -

xiv CONTENTS

PACK

passengers— The cadi and his party— A Wallachian family
— The benefits of idleness — Dinners and 'dabls' — In-
creasing animation — Trajan's Bridge — The sturgeon of
Turno-Severin — The old Roman road — The Iron Gates —
Orsova— Costume of Wallachian women — Sublime scenery
— Illusions — Semendria — Belgrade — Hungarian ladies — A
blaze of fashion — The black mills — Buda-Pesth — Hotel
Hungaria — The Coronation mound — The Blocksberg — A
mislaid trunk and Hungarian courtesy — Vienna — Improve-
ments— Molk — Passau— The meeting of the waters — The
river Maine — Reposeful scenery — The Rhine — Transforma-
tions— Vexation of spirit — Fine situation of Huy — Money
changing — Paris — Bewilderments — Ruined monuments —
Notre Dame — Relics — Senseless destruction round Paris —
Village life — The Uhlan and Pere Etienne — A sick
Bavarian — German moderation — In England — London —
The Underground — Wealth and poverty — An East London
train — The heart of the world -251

IN MID-WINTER, FROM VIENNA TO GALATZ.

Companions in the * Damen Coupe* ' — Alone — Frozen windows
— The expiring lamp — Nervous terrors — Compassionate
guards — Cracow — Travelling wraps for Continentals —
Galicia — Pretty scenery— Czernovitz — Suczava — Roman —
Barboshi — 'Capi di Bovd,' a Roman encampment —
Galatz - - 317

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY : BOSPHORUS VIGNETTES.

Tourists and their labours — The cabin of a 'zig-zag' — A
central Asian group — The scala of Cabatasch — Dolma
Bagtch^ — Beshiktash and the tomb of Barbarossa —

Tcheraghan — An evil omen — Ortakeuy — The yali of A

Sultana — Anecdote — The Tulip Kiosk : its origin — Palaces
and gardens of the Khedive — Pa'idos at Kavak — The ruined
castle — 'Dalyans' — The yali of Fuad Pasha — Fete in the
harem — The Princess Halim— From a yali at Candilli — A
floating market — Looking towards Europe — A devastated
hillside — The towers of Roumeli — Ahmed Vefyk Pasha —
The American College— The teke' of the Bektashies—
Their cemetery - 331

[xv]

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

RUINED CISTERNS AT ISMIDT

ENTRANCE TO HOLY FOUNTAIN IN 1857 -

HAIDAR PASHA IN 1857

OLD HOUSE, ISMIDT

FANARAKI

MODA BOURNOU

AT MERDIVENKEUY

OLD ROMAN BRIDGE, BROUSSA

SURIDJI, BROUSSA

CAVALLA

VODENA

OCHRIDA

MONASTERY OF ST. NAUM -

RUINED FORT, MITYLENE -

KENDROS: THE HARBOUR OF THE OLIVES

RUINED AQUEDUCT, MITYLEXE

CASTLE OF MOLIVO -

CANEA FROM KHALEPA

RUINS OF KATH6LICO, AKROTIRI -

OUTER HARBOUR OF CANEA

RUINED CHURCH ABOVE PERIVOGLIA

WITHIN THE MONASTERY, GHONIA

AMONG THE HUTS, CANEA -

THE BOSPHORUS, FROM ABOVE KURFESS -

ROUMELI HISSAR ....

Frontispiece

To face

P. 2

55

4

,.

28

55

84

55

92

55

1 06

55

116

55

132

55

134

55

148

55

152

55

156

55

168

15

188

55

194

5»

200

)5

212

55

226

5)

232

55

236

55

240

55

250

55

330

55

356

OLD TRACKS
AND NEW LANDMARKS

AN OLD PORTFOLIO.

A MASS of little sketches in an old portfolio,
taken in many lands and at varying intervals
during a long lifetime. The earliest are feeble
records of youthful delight in the first view of
real mountain scenery, gained when travelling —
not, as yet, a railway rush — was carried on by
the lumbering stage-coach or diligence, by the
slow one-oared boat, by mule or horseback, and
oftentimes on foot. How vividly the few slight
touches recall every incident of those happy
wanderings, which, as years rolled on, take one
in memory to Normandy or Southern France ;
to many a wild scene in Macedonia and the
Pindus Mountains ; to Albania, Calabria, Crete,

i

2 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

and Mytilene ; to monasteries amongst the gorges
of the Carpathians ; to beautiful rivers — the
Danube, the Moselle ; to Athens, Broussa, and
countless other interesting spots ; until the last
excursion, so recently undertaken with (dare I say
it ?) scarcely diminished pleasure and enthusiasm,
shows ancient cities of Asia Minor — Nicomedia
and Ancyra — as the aim and object of an old
woman's exertions.

The old portfolio does not keep its records in
order ; they are mingled in rather bewildering
confusion, but we can select those connected with
the last little journey, for which the aid both of
photography and the iron horse were gratefully,
if somewhat regretfully, accepted. To start upon
this line fittingly and thoroughly we must go
back in time for nearly forty years.

Here is a small and apparently quite insig-
nificant sketch, dated 1857, but it is probably the
^only existing record of any construction connected
with the celebrated Church of St. Euphemia,
which was utterly destroyed more than four
centuries ago.

[3]

HAIDAR PASHA IN 1857.

IT is a scene of calm and peaceful beauty —
peaceful then, although the throb and hurry of
the Crimean War had but so recently subsided,
leaving its sad memorials beneath the grass and
flowers of the beautiful Scutari burial-ground.

The place is Haidar Pasha, a projecting point
of land on the Asiatic shore of the Bosphorus,
forming one side of the bay of old Chalcedon
(now Kadikeuy) : a breezy spot, shaded by two
groups of noble Oriental planes ; in the fore-
ground some old masonry, with a rough descent,
leading, by an iron doorway, into a small, dark,
vaulted chamber, in which is found an 'ayasma,'
or holy well, that was once enclosed in the
precincts of the great Church of St. Euphemia,
the scene of the celebrated Council of Chal-
cedon.

In the cool shade of the spreading plane-trees,

4 OLD TRACKS AND NEIV LANDMARKS

a few loungers sip their tiny cups of coffee and
smoke the dreamy narghile or tchibouk. Through
an opening one can see another mass of stone or
marble close to the shore ; it may possibly also
have been connected with the ancient church.
Between the two groups of plane-trees the blue
waters of the bay ripple with diamond sparkles,
as a gentle breeze slightly stirs the surface, and
further back the point of Kadikeuy, at that time
little more than a considerable village, shows some
brown and reddish houses above the primitive
little steamer Scala. Beyond the point the islets
of Plati and Oxiea, and in the distance the green
masses of the mountain chain bordering the Gulf
of Ismidt, with evanescent glimpses of the snowy
crest of Mount Olympus.

The view of Stamboul, taken from this point
at that long past time, may seem to a casual
observer to show the well - known outline of
minarets and towers and encircling walls, but to
the few who now remember the ancient city as it
was nearly forty years ago, some changes will be
evident. The towers of the Seraglio and of
Galata are crowned with their pointed extin-
guisher-shaped summits. The extreme end of

*£

V

HAIDAR PASHA IN 1857

the Seraglio gardens shows the picturesque group
of pavilions forming the Winter Palace (burnt in
1865). The sea walls, though crumbling, are
continuous, and have not yet yielded to the
encroachments of the railway line. On the rising
ground to the right the old wooden konak, given
by the Sultan Abdul Medjid to Admiral Slade,
stands empty and forlorn, looking down upon a
broken minaret amidst a cluster of small cafes
and fishermen's huts.

Turning landwards, the rough road passes a
marble fountain, also shaded by plane-trees, then
wanders across a broad meadow glowing with
wild flowers and tall, waving grasses towards a
group of lofty cypresses mingled with softer
masses of green foliage. A bullock araba is
winding slowly along towards a cluster of brown
wooden ho'uses, and a small mosque with its
white minaret; the background — the vineyards
and gardens of Tchamlidja — completes the calm
and peaceful picture.

The hill rising on the left hand of the valley
is the supposed site of the ancient Church of St.
Euphemia, built by Constantine on the site of a
temple of Apollo. After the fall of Constantinople

6 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

the church was destroyed, and the materials used
in the building of the Solimanyeh, the most
beautiful of the mosques in Stamboul that had
not been a Christian church.

[7]

ON THE ROAD TO ISM IDT, 1880.

YEARS have rolled by, bringing their inevitable
changes. We are now in 1880. The calm
beauty of the scene has vanished, and in its place
the noise and bustle of a small, though as yet in-
significant, railway-station has enclosed in its grim
precincts the holy well of St. Euphemia. It is
not destroyed (an 'ayasma,' or holy fountain, is
never in this country destroyed), but it is lost
to view somewhere in the lower parts of the
straggling building. The beautiful plane-trees
have been cleared off the ground ; the flowery
pasture is gray and unsightly with dusty railway-
sheds ; small, unpicturesque houses cover the
rising ground ; and as the train glides slowly
through a short cutting, we can see on the right
bank that a passage or tunnel has been cut
through obliquely. This passage, about the
height of a man, is narrow and vaulted with tiles

8 OLD TRACKS AND NEIV LANDMARKS

apparently thrust in roughly from beneath. It
takes the direction of the ancient city (Chalcedon),
and not that towards the sea, as would be the
case with a drain or watercourse, and there seems
little room to doubt that this must be the sub-
terranean passage through which the Persians
in the seventh century passed from their camp
on the rising ground of Haidar Pasha to the
market-place of Chalcedon, which they were
besieging, and which they thus took by sur-
prise.

When the works for this line of railway were
begun, many important fragments of antiquity
were brought to light. Some of these remained for
several years on a piece of neglected ground near
the station, others were broken up or dispersed ;
but this particular vaulted channel escaped notice,
and, in the belief of the writer, has never been
sufficiently examined.

The line passes along a track rich in pastoral
beauty : in vast vineyards yielding the far-famed
1 tchousch ' grapes of Kizil Toprak, with splendid
orchards bearing the equally esteemed cherries ;
villas and country houses surrounded by their
glowing gardens on a land teeming with historical

ON THE ROAD TO ISM IDT, 1880

remembrances. Now it is the ancient chapel of
St. John Chrysostom, with its holy well under
the shade of giant plane-trees ; next the beautiful
cypress -covered headland of Fanaraki, where
many a piece of sculptured marble, handfuls of
mosaic cubes, fragments of ancient vases, are
found in the cliff sides or on the shore beneath
the spot where once stood a summer palace of
Justinian. Then the bright chaplet of the Princes'
Islands, sparkling with their gay villas and luxu-
riant gardens, on the right hand of the line ;
while the inner side shows a wild upland leading
amongst rocks and brambles and low shrubs to the
summit of Kai'sch Dagh (Mount Auxentius), the
highest point in the neighbourhood of Constanti-
nople, and the last of a line of fire-beacons that
stretched across Bithynia to the capital, com-
municating with a lighthouse on the Seraglio
point. Mosaic tesserae and other fragments may
still be found on the summit, where, under the
Greek Empire, a church and a celebrated
monastery existed. Constantius calls this the
Convent of the Holy Apostles, and says that two
ascetics from the community became Patriarchs
of Constantinople. The convent, destroyed by

io OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

the Latins, was rebuilt by Michael Paleologos,
and re-dedicated to St. Michael.

We pass an interesting old bridge — Bostandji
Keupru — which recalls the fact that, until lately,
considerable Byzantine ruins existed on this spot.
Belisarius, Justinian's famous general, possessed
much land in this neighbourhood. The whole of
this shore of the gulf was a favourite summer
resort of wealthy Byzantine nobles.

We are now passing a rock-strewn eminence,
Maltepe (Treasure Hill), on which stood a summer
palace of the emperors, and many legends exist
of the supposed riches lying buried somewhere
beneath the surface, and guarded by formidable
1 djins.'

As the train, skirting the shore, advances
towards the head of the gulf the scenery improves
in beauty. On the land side thickets and wood-
land glades, showing tufts of heath, cistus, and
myrtle, with sprinkled groups of ilex, are varied
by some marshy lands, where mighty reeds wave
their feathery blossoms majestically ; on the other
side small islets covered with pine-trees are
mirrored in the clear blue water.

The little station of Touzla stands in a grove

ON THE ROAD TO ISMIDT, 1880 n

of oaks — a pretty sylvan scene, dotted with white
tents, and leading on to great stretches of tobacco
in full bloom. And so — on and on — till the station
and viaduct of Guebse form the limit of a short
excursion.

From this point three objects of the highest
interest are within reach — the burial-place of
Hannibal on a lonely hilltop, marked by two
gigantic cypress-trees ; the ruined castle near the
shore ; and the little town of Guebse (the ancient
Lybissa), with its fine mosque, built in the reign
of Soliman the Great ; its vast camel stables,
where formerly the caravans of pilgrims rested
on their way to Mecca, and the numerous frag-
ments of antiquity scattered about the ' mezarlik,'
or burial-ground.

Our little party on this occasion, between the
three attractions, decided for the easiest and the
most practicable. A few baggage-horses with
native saddles awaited possible travellers to the
town, which lies a mile or two inland, hidden
from view of the station by a wooded slope ; so
one of these, with his rider, was selected as guide ;
he was already laden with a heavy burden of
raw meat for the same destination.

12 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

It was a glorious day of Indian summer, and
our little party of four started bravely on foot, at
first through a narrow lane, and past a wayside
fountain under a group of plane-trees. On the
summit of the little hill we pause to admire the
view : the distant castle far below us on the right
hand ; on the other side the lonely hilltop with
its two sombre cypresses. We question the
guide. 'There,' said he, unconsciously almost
quoting Pliny, ' is the burial-place of a great man
of the olden time — there, where you see the two
cypresses.'

The people here are much more Oriental than
those in Stamboul. The turban is the rule, and
not the exception, and we felt, as we strolled on
into the beautifully picturesque old town, as if we
had drifted away from Western civilization.

The houses, delightfully irregular, draped with
garlands of vine, with creamy-white, pale-blue, or
maize-coloured upper stories and deep, over-
hanging eaves, are charming subjects for the
pencil ; but the pavement also is irregular, and,
in order to preserve one's enthusiasm, one must
heroically ignore that fact.

We pass a large bath on our way to the great

ON THE ROAD TO ISM IDT, 1880 13

mosque. Someone had constituted himself as
guide, and, followed by a train of youngsters
ready to rush in with information at the least
hesitation of the leader, we are conducted into
the shady, cool outer court. The inhabitants are
justly proud of their fine 'djami.' It stands sur-
rounded by considerable buildings — the ' khan '
(resting-place for travellers), the * medresseh '
(upper school for students), the ' imaret ' (a soup-
kitchen for the poor), and the * kitabhane '
(library), which is above the principal gateway of
the enclosure.

Our guide raised the door-curtain of the mosque,
but, unwilling to disturb the group of twenty or
thirty students seated on the ground, to whom an
imam, also on the ground, was reading, we did
not advance, but could see that the interior was
rich in inlaid marbles and Persian tiling, remind-
ing one of the beautiful green mosque at Broussa;
the ' mihrab,' the recess where the Koran is placed,
is extremely rich in carving and decoration.

We wandered on into the burial-ground ; frag-
ments of old columns were lying about among
the weeds and brambles, some^ of them serving
as tombstones, with here and there some piece of

14 . OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

engraved tablet, one large slab bearing a long
Greek inscription ; there is little doubt that this
must have been the site of an ancient church.
The principal object, however, of which the in-
habitants seemed immensely proud, was a monu-
mental structure, a dome raised on four arches,
partly ruined, and covering two grass-grown graves
in which reposed . . . the forty daughters of one
Musulman lady, twenty in each grave ; a wonder-
ful family, but not without other examples in this
part of Asia Minor, as I have heard a member
of a well-known Smyrna family declare that a
near ancestress was the proud mother of three-
and-thirty children.

Once more in the market-place, we sat down on
native ' iskemle ' — little wooden and straw stools—
to await such refreshment as could be procured
from the neighbouring cafe. It presently appeared,
neatly arranged on a metal disc : dried salted
meat in thin slices, country cheese, flaps of un-
leavened bread ; but the central dish was the
piece de resistance of the feast — a large bowl of
sardines, raw onions, and sliced tomatoes, well
soaked with oil and vinegar. It was useless to
be fastidious, and it was really very good of the

ON THE ROAD TO ISM IDT, 1880 15

people to give us anything at all, for they were in
full Ramazan, fasting from dawn to sunset, fasting
even from water and tobacco. This rigorous
abstention is naturally trying to the temper, and
we wondered to see the general public grouped
around our little party, gazing benevolently, one
of them even bringing a welcome addition in the
form of a plate of magnificent black grapes.

The greater number of our rustic friends sat on
their heels — a favourite attitude of rest in these
countries. One serious-looking man, with a beauti-
ful cat on either shoulder, seeing one of us
taking a slight sketch of the mosque entrance,
suggested the idea of drawings of his favourites.
It was begun, but of course the man's head and
shoulders formed part of the picture, and, being
enlightened by the jokes of the lookers-on, the
poor man, a devout follower of the Koran, would
have risen from his heels and fled, to avoid the
sin of having his likeness taken ; but it was done.
There was no help for it, and it was at least a
great comfort to reflect that his cherished pets
were not responsible.

1 6 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Once more our little party is grouped in front
of the rustic railway - station of Guebse ; this
time with the intention of descending the valley
to examine the ruins that appear to overhang the
gulf, and which bear no name more distinctive
than Eski Hissar (the Old Castle).

A roadway, winding amongst orchards and
vineyards and fields of wheat, shaded by noble
walnut and chestnut trees, leads downwards ; one
or two wayside fountains and the ruins of some
' sou terazi ' (water-towers) bear testimony to the
past importance of the now ruined and forgotten
mass of buildings, that had evidently required
costly works to carry the needful supply of water
from the neighbouring hills.

At the end of the valley a short and rough
climb brings us to the ruins, a vast enclosure of
battlemented walls, strong towers and vaulted
entrances, surrounding a massive square building,
apparently of older date. On the side towards
the water the fortifications take the form of a
series of terraces reaching down to the shore.

The fine proportions of the central building,
the height and size of the interior hall, the
remains of columns of marble, porphyry *nd red

ON THE ROAD TO ISMIDT, 1880 17

granite, lying amidst the ruins, give the place the
aspect of a princely residence rather than that of
the keep of a fortress. The learned Patriarch
Constantius says : * Near to Pythia, Justinian built
a palace ' — Pythia or Polopythia being the ancient
name of some mineral springs in the immediate
vicinity used by Constantine, by Theodora,
wife of Justinian, and by many other notable
persons.

Von Hammer speaks of the place as having
been a strong Byzantine fortress, and it is stated
that it resisted the power of the Ottoman Turks
until long after Nicomedia, Nicea, and the whole
of the surrounding districts, had fallen into their
hands.

In the present day the peasantry know abso-
lutely nothing of its origin or history ; but they
have a liberal supply of dark and gruesome
legends as connected with the crumbling walls.

Some authors think that it was at this place
that Constantine the Great died ; others, that
Hereke, the third station forwards towards Ismidt,
must have been the scene of that important
event, where the dying Emperor was baptized by
Eusebius, Bishop of Nicomedia, and, ' retaining

i8 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

to the last the white garment of his baptism,' died
in the year 337 A.D.

At the station of Hereke the train stops in
front of the large imperial silk and velvet factory.
On the opposite side the hill rises in a steep slope,
where a ruined square tower and some remains of
fortified walls appear amongst the thick forest
growth. These ruins may be traced quite down
to the shore, where also we find vestiges and
remains of architecture that indicate the possible
site of a palace. Von Hammer says the * name
Hereke may be a disfigured rendering of Ancyron,
at which place, said to be in the neighbourhood
of Nicomedia, Constantine had a villa/

Beyond Hereke, the distances between the
stations increase, as the scenery also increases in
beauty. The opposite line of mountains — nearer
now, as the gulf perceptibly narrows — are richly
wooded almost to the summit, and throw their
long shadows and reflections quite across the
calm liquid mirror. The lilac tint is yielding to a
soft purple shade that creeps upwards towards
the still golden rock-crowned summits. Bright
sparkles on the lower mountain slopes reveal, in
the transparent haze rising from the still water,

ON THE ROAD TO ISMIDT, 1880 19

a solitary farm, or a little hamlet, or it may be the
small lighthouse on the point of Dil-Iskelessy.
We have long since passed the spot from whence
(on the opposite shore) the baths founded by
St. Helena, the mother of Constantine, can be
pointed out. Valuable mineral waters, lying for
centuries almost unknown, have lately sprung into
notice, and are now much frequented.

The night has fallen, but we can discern through
the gloom that the train is traversing vast fields
of tobacco plantations ; one of the stations, indeed,
reminds us of the fact — it is Tutun Ichiftlik
(tobacco farm) — and it is evident that much forest
growth has been cleared away in the interest of
the * weed.' And so, rolling on and on, a high hill,
bright with the sparkling lights of a considerable
town, rises on our left hand, and we know that we
have reached the limit of our excursion, the
.station of Ismidt.

2 — 2

[20]

ISMIDT.

IT had been dark when we reached our resting-
place, a small clean dwelling-house in which the
host, Jorghios Bulgaropoulos, and his pretty
young wife, Katinka, let three or four rooms,
principally to ladies passing through Ismidt to or
from the large American schools at Bagtchedjik
on the mountain slope of the opposite shore of
the gulf.

The morning light reveals a high wall shadowed
by some fine lime-trees, the boundary of the
extensive grounds of the arsenal ; beneath, a
narrow lane, leading towards the water, that
glitters and sparkles with the fresh breeze ; a
little to the left hand a fragile wooden jetty,
adorned for the time being with the wide-spread-
ing, spider-like framework of the fishing nets.

Our first expedition was landwards, under the
guidance of Jorghios (English rendering Georgy)»

ISM IDT 21

or rather attended by him, for we soon realized
that his views did not willingly embrace the idea
of energetic exploration and hill climbing, but
preferred a saunter, or, let us say, a stumble over
the boulders and ruts that represent the roadway
through the bazaars.

The ' tcharshi ' is usually the chief point of
interest in an Eastern city. Peasant costumes,
unknown fruits and vegetables, uncouth wares of
various kinds, may be best seen there ; but in
these bazaars of Ismidt there was little to be
observed except the extraordinary size and quality
of the leeks and cabbages, and the tempting snow-
white rolls of caimak, the clotted cream of the
East, to be met with only in these lands and in
Devonshire. Do the people of Devonshire know
the origin of their clotted cream ? Well, legends
affirm that the knowledge of it reached them
through the Phoenicians who came to the south-
west coast of our barbaric isle in search of tin ;
but even here honest investigation gets a little
confused, for the jealousy of Cornwall intervenes.
4 Yes,' say the wise ones, ' it may be so, but we
taught the Phoenicians !' Caimak is a delicious
product, only obtainable in perfection during the

22- OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

spring and autumn, when there is fresh pasturage
for the cattle.

Our way led along the highroad, the old
Roman road into the interior towards Bagdad.
Bullock and buffalo carts were creaking and
groaning their rough progress to and from the
town, some with families of emigrants bound for
the lands allotted to them by the Government,
others conveying the manufactures of the district,
principally in the form of reed matting ; but the
slow march was on this occasion enlivened by the
irregular conduct of a baggage horse laden with
the native pumpkin. Something had startled
the much-enduring creature, and with a wild fling
and clatter he rushed forward, regardless of con-
sequences, scattering his golden-coloured burden
about the ground. Eastern pumpkins have the
form of ill-made water-bottles.

The road through the outskirts of the city east-
wards passes beside a Turkish cemetery ; the low
boundary wall displays some fragments of ex-
quisite ancient frieze-work inserted in the midst
of the rough-hewn stones. The ground beyond
rises steeply, a dark grove of venerable cypresses,
moss-grown gravestones, rank weeds and wild

ISMIDT 23

blossoms. Here and there shafts of golden sun-
light pierce the gloom to flash on a group of half-
fallen turbaned head-stones, or to cast a bright
glow on some old houses bordering a narrow
pathway — old, dilapidated, wooden dwellings,
their pale green or rose-coloured stucco all faded
and stained and washed by sun and rain. It is
beautiful, but the beauty of hopeless decay.

Still following the ancient roadway, we pass the
mouth of one of those great drains mentioned by
Texier — 'great canals in which men may walk
upright ; they penetrate horizontally into the
interior of the land, and show the remains of a
vast and opulent city.'

We have reached the open country beyond the
last straggling dwellings, and turn upwards on the
left by a short roughly-marked track, where,
amongst brambles, heather, and innumerable wild
flowers, we find the flat tombstones of the Jewish
burial-ground. Still upwards for a few steps, and
we look down into the ruins of an immense cistern
in massive brickwork, several columns supporting
a vaulted roof.

Can this important work be in part due to
Pliny, the energetic governor of Bithynia? His

24 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

letters to Trajan show his great sympathy with
the question of the water-supply of Nicomedia,
and he proposes to utilize a certain watercourse,
bringing it to the towrn by means of a vaulted
building. Local tradition ascribes the work to
Andronicus the Younger, but it may well have
had a more remote origin.

The interior of these ancient cisterns received
three coatings : first, of lime and cement ; second,
a mixture of pounded charcoal and lime ; third, a
stucco of great hardness formed of pounded stone,
lime, and oil. This mixture (lukium) is mentioned
in White's * Constantinople/ with the remark that
4 the impervious quality of it is so efficacious that,
although some tanks are entirely beneath the
earth, and thus perpetually exposed to outward
infiltration as well as inward pressure, and un-
doubtedly coeval with the earliest Byzantine
monarchs, yet there is no record of their re-
quiring repair, or of their having, ever leaked.'

When Orchan besieged Nicomedia he cut the
water of this great cistern, in order to reduce the
city.

The views from this point are extremely beauti-
ful. On the one side the city rising in terraces,

ISMIDT 25

with its many-tinted houses, its gardens, minarets,
groups of cypresses, crowned by the great Mosque
of Orchan, built on the site of the ancient church,
and seen in parts amidst masses of foliage. Ruins
of the ancient battlemented wall strengthened by
towers can be traced quite down the length of
the hillside. On our left hand the gulf, where
the lilac-tinted mountains, wreathed with fleecy
cloudlets, cast long reflections in the still water,
until they melt away in the verdant-looking but
unhealthy marsh-lands at a short distance beyond
the city.

We turn landwards, endeavouring to reach the
summit of the hill, and our 'guide' having con-
trived to involve us in painful and perplexing
difficulties, undignified scrambles over broken
walls and through briary and muddy lanes, we
find ourselves at length still wandering around the
base of the steep ascent until our leader, having
—to his and our intense relief — found a guide
for himself, we finally take the right direction,
and by a narrow pathway reach a cluster of little
cottages on a terrace shaded by a grove of plane-
trees. Some women, slightly veiled, are crouched
on the ground, rolling out thin layers of paste

26 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

into large flat cakes for drying ; cut up in small
strips, and once more dried, they are stored for
winter use ; this substance (yokkah), made of
maize flour, is an excellent substitute for the rice
used for pillau.

A few more windings along the steep hillside,
and we reach an ancient fountain. The large
slab at the back bears a double inscription, large
letters partly covering smaller ones. Here some
women are washing in an empty sarcophagus,
their fluttering veils and faded antarys showing
most picturesquely against the background of the
fountain. Above we see an alcove-like vault of
very ancient masonry, and beyond this, again, in
the shadow of overhanging trees, a closed-up
vaulted passage of immensely strong and very old
construction.

With great benefit we have retained the services
of our guide's * guide,' and thus, still winding
upwards, we find ourselves at one time outside
the line of fortified walls, which, strengthened by
towers at short distances apart, is considered as
the boundary of ancient Nicomedia, the Greeks
at a later period having descended to the foot of
the hill near the water.

ISM IDT

We re-enter the city over a mass of crumbled
stone and rubbish, and reach at length the
principal object of the day's expedition, the
Mosque of Orchan. A fine Corinthian capital
was lying in the road near the entrance gate, and
within the court they show us a mass of marble
or stone, supposed to have been a font of the
old Christian church ; it bears, they say, a long
inscription, which is now covered and hidden from
view by a wooden platform ; a quantity of Indian
corn, drying in the sun, covered the useful but un-
interesting planks. We do not enter the mosque,
but are told that within may be seen the remains
of an altar. On this site stood the great church
of Nicomedia, destroyed during the persecution
of Christians under Diocletian.

Returning last evening to our little 'locanda,'
I hear that an imam had been there inquiring
for me ; after a moment's reflection, I understood
the reason of the visit. A certain much-valued
female 'halaik,' a calpha, belonging to the house-
hold of my dear and respected friends, the family
of A. Vefik Pasha, had been given in marriage
a year or two previously to the imam of a small
mosque at Ismidt. I had intended inquiring

28 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

after her, but, not knowing the address, the
matter passed from my mind. I now remembered
that, during our first walk in the suburbs leading
us through the Turkish cemetery, I was startled
by hearing my name spoken from one of those
old wooden houses beside the road. I had
thought it fancy, or, perhaps (influenced by the
locality), djinns ; it afterwards proved that
Emine Hanum had seen us pass, did not like
to call out, but must have spoken the name in
her surprise. She despatched her imam to make
inquiries. ' He had not known where to go,'
he explained, when at last he discovered the
right place ; ' he had not slept all night ; a worm
was eating his heart with anxiety.'

I start the next morning with Jorghi. The
imam is on the watch for us near the entrance
of his little mosque. Seeing our approach, with-
out sign of recognition, he turns and walks on
before ; perhaps he did not care to greet a
' ghiaour ' lady in the open street. But we are
close to the house, where Emine Hanum opens
the door with a joyous and friendly welcome.
She looks pale and sickly, and the house has
a dilapidated appearance, rather disappointing,

ft' i */' ^ r *i

vffp

Vu ;

To face p. 28.

ISMIDT

29

until, reaching the second floor, we find a pretty
room, very nicely and completely furnished at
the expense of the Pasha. Emine also wears a
neat new cotton dress, with a wadded jacket,
a handsome diamond glitters on her finger,
doubtless from the same old home where she
had lived from earliest childhood, and for many
years had nursed and tended the bedridden
grandmother until her death.

She is delighted to hear of the old friends at
Roumeli Hissar. 'I am pining,' she says, 'to
see them all once more ; I love them as if it
were my own family ; the Pasha and the Buyuk
Hanum were to me as father and mother, the
younger hanums like sisters ; and little Fatma—
I had nursed her from her birth. They will think
it so ungrateful that we do not go to see them,
but we cannot afford the double journey.' She
entreats me to explain this to the family on my
return.

We are sitting on the divan, sipping, first,
delicious coffee ; afterwards sherbert made ot
pomegranate. There is a large tray of fruits,
and in his great hospitality the imam (his name
is Hafuz Emin) cracks walnuts, peels apples,

30 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

cuts little pieces ready, and enters on the subject
of his grievance — for he has a grievance, poor
man ! — and is at this moment suffering from
a very unjust deprivation of his office of imam
of the small mosque near the market, Erdjiler
Djami, although the imamlik has been in his
family for some generations. He shows us all
the firmans, and explains his trouble. A year or
two back, having been taken for a soldier, during
a time of war, he had been necessarily replaced
in his religious functions ; and, on his return,
could not regain his position, and has been
obliged for the present to resign himself to the
inferior post of muezzin ; but the usurping imam
is often ill, and Hafuz Emin Effendi is obliged
to take the duties. I am urgently requested to
bring this matter to the notice of the Pasha ;
and I may now add that the worthy man, after
some delay, was reinstated in his proper office.
Then he passed on to the subject of his marriage,
relating how, some years since, A. Vefik Pasha,
then Governor of Broussa, stopped at Ismidt on
a Friday and went to his mosque ; the old father
of Hafuz Emin preached ; he himself read. The
Pasha was much pleased, and gave liberal presents ;

ISM IDT 31

and long afterwards, when seeking for a good
husband for the trusty calpha (a superintendent),
he remembered this man, now no longer very
young, and they were married. ' We live,' said
the imam, ' in perfect harmony ; there is never
one unkind word. Before my marriage I used
to suffer from fever, but she has taken such
care of me, giving me " tchorba-morba " (broth
and similar things), that I am now quite well
and strong.'

This little incident of Turkish life amongst the
humbler classes, literally repeated word for word ;
the status of a * slave ' in respectable old-fashioned
families, and the happy if humble home of Emine
and her imam, may seem to the Western mind
unreal, but it is, nevertheless, an experience not
unusual amongst those whose daily lives are little
known beyond the limits of their quarter or
village.

The term ' tchorba (broth) morba ' can hardly
be understood by strangers ; it is a curious use
of the letter m in place of the first letter or letters
of the word, to indicate ' the like '; it is scarcely,
I think, in the dictionary. Thus, a person may
speak of a pen, 'calem,' and say 'calem malem,'

32 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

meaning a pen and such like things ; ' carotta,
marotta ' (carrots and such) ; ' colai (easy), colai
molai ' ('Easy, do you say? What is that to
me ?'), etc.

Towards evening we start for a visit to the
church and monastery of St. Pantaleimon, at
about half an hour's distance on the western side
of the city. We have taken our guide — who
cannot this time mistake his way — and stroll
along the highroad, past a miserably forlorn and
dilapidated shanty ; an old board hanging amid
the faded tangles of creeping plants announces it
as ' The Duke of Wellington Public-house, Coffee
Room and Luncheon Bar.' It is a relic of the
sojourn of the British Fleet in the Gulf of Ismidt.
A sadder and more touching memorial is found
under the beautiful grove of plane-trees — to the
left of the road — that shade the Christian ceme-
tery, within which a small enclosure contains the
graves of our English sailors from the ships of
war ; and one pathetic headstone records the
names of those who perished by an explosion on
board the Thunderer.

Before regaining the highroad, Jorghi took
us across a large uncultivated extent of ground

ISMIDT 33

reaching as far as the railway works ; for a con-
siderable distance rough grass - grown mounds
crop up irregularly ; on nearer approach, they
prove to be remains of ancient and very solid
masonry. This spot has been mentioned by
one author as the site of the palace of Diocletian ;
local tradition calls it the site of the great
monastery of St. Nicholas, and the scene of the
fearful massacre of Christians in the beginning
of the fourth century, when, at Easter time,
20,000 persons were assembled, who, refusing to
offer sacrifice to the heathen gods, were burnt
within the vast enclosure of the monastery.

It is believed by the natives that much treasure
and antiquarian remains are buried beneath these
mounds, and they tell of subterranean passages
now closed. These may be mythical, but the
large fragments of sculptured marble lying among
the tall thistles, a Corinthian capital and broken
shafts of columns, some of them inserted in the
courses of brickwork, an overturned pedestal with
the inscription, ' Avrilios ernothoro Valerios
Ercolius'; the extent of ruined vaults, into some
of which we penetrated and made careful sketches,
all seem to verify the opinion that this may have

3

34 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

been the site, not of a palace, but of the ill-fated
monastery.

Pursuing our road towards St. Pantaleimon,
we remark that in the rough, irregular paving
many fragments of sculptured marble seem to
have been turned to practically ignominious use.
In a small field belonging to this monastery lies
a white marble sarcophagus with a Latin inscrip-
tion, the tomb of Valerio. (' Marcia raised this
monument to Valerius Vincentius, Accountant of
the Guards, my sweetest husband with whom I
lived six years.') The cover of this sarcophagus
serves as a trough for the fountain opposite the
entrance gate of the monastery ; but before
reaching it we are taken to a grassy platform,
beneath an ancient olive-tree. It was here that
St. Pantaleimon, after suffering fearful tortures,
was put to death in the time of Murad I.* This
Ottoman prince, on his road to Bagdad, passing
by Nicomedia, sees the great and beautiful
monastery ; and, through a misunderstanding
(to quote from a local history), orders the de-
struction of the community and of the building.

* On this grassy platform prayers are to this day offered on the
anniversary of the martyrdom.

ISMIDT 35

Soon afterwards, in a dream, a man, ' all in white,'
reproaches him for his cruelty. Seized with fear,
Murad summons his Grand Vizier, and gives
orders to rebuild the monastery ; it is done, and
the Emir (still according to this legend), acting
with truly Oriental 'fantasy,' proceeds to make
compensation. A cock is placed on the highest
point of the cupola ; soldiers are stationed at
regular distances all around. When the cock
crowed, all the land as far as the sound could
reach was to become the property of the
monastery. A firman was also given freeing for
ever from all State claims whatever goods should
be brought to the monastic house. This firman
holds good to this day ; it is exhibited to each
succeeding Sultan, and thus ratified and con-
firmed.

Many fragments of sculptured marble are
inserted in the building and surroundings of the
fountain ; one, a female figure, is exquisitely
graceful, and in the best style of art, although
the slab has been, unfortunately, broken through.

The church is a modern building (on the
ancient site), very garish and uninteresting, and
much supported by Russian offerings, and a

3—2

36 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

subsidy. It contains, however, some ancient
inscriptions, doubtless from the former buildings ;
one of them states that ' Hierocles, at his own
cost, raised this monument to Aurelia his wife,
who lived with him decorously.'

The ancient chapel in the crypt is worth a
visit ; in the centre is placed the tomb of St.
Pantaleimon ; the covering slab had been much
hacked and defaced ; formerly, colonnettes orna-
mented each corner, but the whole was now
covered with draperies. Our guide slightly raised
these on the left side of the tomb, and displayed
two little white marble feet, beautifully sculptured,
hanging over the side, as if just stepping down.

They say that when the tomb was opened
a manuscript was found within, and they showed
us ancient inscriptions on the stone flooring
within the screen.

I 37]

FROM ISM IDT TO ANGORA.

THE train leaving Ismidt for Eski Shehir and
Angora glides gently away between the vegetable
and fruit market on the left and a nicely planted
roadway, backed by prosperous - looking stone
houses. It might be concluded that the place
had gained considerably by the extension of the
line. The inhabitants, however, are not of that
opinion. People now, they say, pass through
instead of making Ismidt, as formerly, a central
starting-point. I am making the excursion this
time with two dear and sympathetic young friends,
whose keen appreciation of natural beauty, and
wise determination to make light of difficulties,
offer the surest pledge of a prosperous and happy
journey.

The suburbs of Ismidt on this side stretch in
an untidy, picturesque, straggling manner along
the base of the high hill down which the ruined

38 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

walls and towers, revealed in glimpses amongst
the luxuriant foliage, reach the lower slope, where
they are lost in the orchards that I had once seen
so rich and fruitful, before the refugees, in the
time of the last war, cut them down for fuel, and
left the beautiful hillside for many subsequent
seasons bare.

We pass the corner of the Jews' burial-ground,
and just perceive amongst the mass of flowering
shrubs a part of the ruined ancient cistern, already
mentioned as one of the most interesting remains
of antiquity still left to Ismidt, and rolling onwards,
pass the head of the gulf, where three or four
small huts, used for the shooting of wild-fowl,
rise out of the shallow water on piles. They are
wonderfully picturesque, and so is the flowery but
unhealthy plain upon which the line enters, for
the much-dreaded marsh fever, so prevalent here,
has caused more than one sad illness and death
amongst our energetic British sportsmen. The
drainage and utilization of these marshes has
several times aroused the interest of monarchs
and governors, always, as yet, without result.
Pliny, the energetic pro-Consul of Bithynia, whose
mind was greatly exercised on the subject of

FROM ISMIDT TO ANGORA 39

' water - supply,' proposes, in a letter to the
Emperor Trajan, a plan for joining the neigh-
bouring Lake of Sabandja with the Gulf of
Nicomedia. He speaks of an unfinished canal,
cut by a former King of Bithynia, as an attempt
at least to drain these marshes, and is himself
enthusiastic in the hope of opening up this water-
way— even, perhaps, as far as the Black Sea — by
means of the river Sangarius. He earnestly begs
that a competent authority may be sent to decide
on the respective levels of the water. All these
bright visions faded, notwithstanding the ex-
ceeding goodwill of Trajan. . . . But this was
eighteen hundred years ago, and soon the net-
work of junction lines which is spreading over
this part of Asia Minor may possibly render the
plan of a waterway of less value. The unhealthy
marshlands, however, still remain, betrayed here
and there by waving tufts of tall flowering reeds
and clusters of beautiful yellow iris starring the
soft expanse with gold. The broad valley is
bounded by richly-wooded hills and finely-culti-
vated slopes, with many an emerald patch of
young corn or pasture at their base. The rail-
way line runs, for a considerable distance, parallel

40 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

with the ancient caravan road into the interior,
and we pass long, slow trains of buffalo and
bullock-carts, with their families of refugees, still
wandering on towards the settlements on vacant
lands granted to them by the Government. Some
of these tribes, such as the Pomaks from Bul-
garia, the Tartars from the Dobrudja, have
brought with them habits of industry and cultiva-
tion ; others — the Circassians and the Lazes—
have brought misfortune, pillage, and devastation
to the land that welcomed them so hospitably,
and we soon had proof of the effects of their
wasteful extravagance in the widespread desola-
tion of burnt and ruined forests on either side of
the line, before reaching the first station, Buyuk
Derbend, and beyond it for some distance towards
Ada Bazar. These clearings, with their black-
ened, weird-looking tree-stumps, appear to have
been sacrificed to little purpose. They look
squalid, stony, and neglected, but in parts where
the tall forest trees still remain, a wonderful
veiling of hanging draperies of long creepers,
reaching to the ground, give, the place quite a
tropical appearance. Many wild-looking Lazes
were lounging about the railway -station, with

FROM ISMIDT TO ANGORA 41

their strange headgear and their picturesque look
of irreclaimable brigands, but they were forgotten
as the lovely scenery increased in interest.

For some time previously the valley had con-
tracted ; the mountain chain, richly wooded with
dwarf oak, seemed closing in upon the green
pastures, dashed with broad streaks of brilliant
golden flowers, where innumerable storks marched
majestically, or rose in their heavy flight from
the terror of the rattling train, as the beautiful
Lake of Sabandja opened out into view — the
more welcome, perhaps, because of the general
scarcity of pieces of water. Tall flowering reeds
wave gently in the breeze ; cattle stand lazily
ruminating amongst the gentle ripples of the
margin ; small boats rock dreamily, doubled by
their reflections ; a peasant's scarlet girdle adds a
bright spot, as the train makes its stately progress
between the tender blue of the lake and the dark
forests rising abruptly on the other side, which
now open out to show a Tcherkess village with
its white minaret, dotted up the slope, among
fields and copses until the station of Ada Bazar
is reached.

Carriages are in waiting, and native carts with

42 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

white canvas awnings bordered and ornamented
in bright red. It is principally from this station
that travellers start to visit the celebrated bridge
built by Justinian in the middle of the sixth
century over the river Sangarius, which has long
since changed its course. The bridge can first
be perceived on the left of the line, above a rich
mass of orchards and cultivation.

Leaving Ada Bazar, the first railway bridge
over the Sakaria brings us into a grand wilderness
of rock and foliage stretching high into the clouds:
splendid mountain scenery, although, wherever
sufficient space exists, the soil is richly cultivated.
Then the mountains open out in grassy glades
sprinkled with rustic thatched cottages. We pass
the ruins of a khan half buried in ivy and creeping
plants ; magnificent walnut and chestnut trees,
left to expand in full luxuriance of leafage ; more
cottages, whattled, plastered, and thatched ; the
hedges glow with roses — a region of sylvan glades.
In one shady spot, beneath a tangle and blaze of
wild azaleas creeping upwards into the forest,
blossoming lilies float on pools of water.

At Geiveh a small village is rising near the
station. The little town itself is seen climbing

FROM ISMIDT TO ANGORA 43

irregularly up the hillside on the left of the line
beyond an old stone bridge built by Sultan
Selim III. Not far from this, also on the left,
the snowy crest of Olympus may be perceived
towering above the nearer mountains. On the
right the forest becomes once more thick and
dense : gigantic masses and cascades of foliage
above a blaze of poppies at its foot. The carriage-
road, that in most parts runs beside us, passes by
the base of a low earth cliff, where a curious
round white spot looks as if some strong mineral
water, gushing from the opening, fell in a tiny
cascade to the roadway beneath.

After passing the station of Lefke. the line
winds amongst stupendous mountain gorges, the
forest-clothed summits and bold headlands of rock
reminding one forcibly of the famous * Desert ' of
the Grande Chartreuse ; but we emerge at length
from this sublime wilderness, to pause at the
pretty little station of Vezir Khan, beautified by
the draping of Virginia creeper and by its situa-
tion in a rich and fruitful valley, where the grand
walnut-trees rear aloft their noble domes of
foliage. The walnut wood of this part of Asia
Minor is celebrated and much sought after.

44 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

The line here is carried along a considerable
height. Several tunnels are passed ; several
bridges also, and viaducts winding amongst crags ;
here and there openings ; glimpses of bright
meadows ; large herds of cattle feeding ; buffaloes
plunged to the head in muddy pools ; sheep
and goats and large flocks of snow-white kids ;
park-like slopes ; a rustic mill turned by a
rushing stream — the Kara Sou ; and then again
we are in a gorge between thickly-wooded,
precipitous mountain walls, that leave scarcely
room for the railway and a well-made carriage-
road.

Throughout the day we have again passed
long trains of refugee carts, with women and
children, household goods and chattels, winding
slowly along. Some of these trains, wending
ponderously northwards, drawn by their heavy,
ungainly buffaloes, are full of mighty rolls of
reed matting.

The scenery increases in grandeur. At
Bozyeuk, an important village, we have time to
admire an ancient mosque, its dome strengthened
by flying buttresses, the minaret a reddish-brown.
The mosque is said to contain some good coloured

FROM ISM IDT TO ANGORA 45

tiles ; there 'is also a khan, with two or three large
stone houses.

The broad valley upon which we now enter
is well cultivated, but the majestic forest-clad
summits begin to recede and to lose their rich
drapery, to give place to a thick carpeting of
dwarf oak. The village of In CEunu, at some
little distance from the station, is most pictur-
esquely situated, climbing up irregularly towards
a mighty rocky cliff, where may be plainly seen
several cavern openings, some evidently natural,
others perhaps artificially enlarged ; for we are
approaching those regions where the inhabitants
have from time immemorial preferred to burrow
in the earth for safety both from man and beast.

The next station, Tchukur Hissar (the Sunken
Castle), points to some undiscovered interesting
remains, and an old guide-book speaks of a
curious and lofty mound. We only saw some
splendid masses of light and shadow among the
rocks, followed by a well-cultivated fertile plain
sprinkled with villages. It was a pleasant but
not exciting outlook, until our train rolled gently
on, and stopped at sunset at the station of Eski
Shehir, near the site of the ancient Doryleum.

46 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

In a small hotel quite near at hand — the Hotel
Gaetano, very clean, very comfortable, and ex-
ceedingly moderate in its charges — we found an
excellent dinner and a calm and restful night,
much needed after the heat and fatigue of the
last ten hours.

[47 ]

THE PLAINS OF ANGORA.

FOR the traveller leaving Eski Shehir for Angora
during the burning summer heats, when the
crops have been gathered in, and the parched
soil of the vast grazing lands shows through its
scant covering of yellow dried-up grass, the long
railway journey would be intolerably wearisome
and monotonous ; but, taken in the late spring-
time, the aspect of this almost uninterrupted
level, extending as far as Angora, possesses a
wonderful fascination for those to whom the
charm of Nature's colouring is really ' a joy for
ever/

On the left hand the great valley extends to
the foot of a line of hills, forming a gigantic
wall for nearly the entire distance. The summit
of this boundary wall might have been levelled
artificially ; so perfectly even is it that only a
thin streak of green appears to separate it from

48 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

the background of dark blue mountain summits.
The face of the cliff falls abruptly, scarped and
lined as the sand or chalk or shale have shivered
downwards ; it looks as if at some unknown
period of the earth's existence the plain had
subsided, and left the giant barrier to mark its
former level. In parts, towards the base, it is
veined and accentuated by sudden irruptions of
gray rock and grass-covered mounds, capped and
crowned with dark bristling stony crests ; they
are generally gray, but occasionally a rough mass
of dark red, veined with white, rears itself in the
midst of the bright green corn. A tiny but busy
little river, bearing the unpoetical name of the
Pursak, ripples between alders and flowering
reeds. Storks are everywhere ; those which are
not solemnly marching or heavily flying are
perched in their monstrous nests on tops of
hovels, or simply on a bare pole, as at Sarikeuy.

As we advance, the country becomes more
varied in outline, and the mountain wall shows
a thin line of forest above the chalk and sand ;
large flocks of milk-white kids dot the green
surface of the broad pastures, and the beauty of
colouring increases on the face of the distant

FROM ISMIDT TO ANGORA 49

cliffs, which show great splashes and streaks,
now of intense orange, now of vivid carmine,
now of dazzling white, and the rolling prairie
beneath is painted with every imaginable tint of
green, from freshest emerald to pale and tender
olive, varied by long patches of violet vetch,
with sprinkled tufts of yellow bloom, now a blaze
of scarlet poppies, then of crimson thistles, and
so on and on and on, until all is toned down and
blended, and melted into the soft vaporous haze
of distance.

The stations along the line are good and
comfortable-looking, though wanting as yet the
softening beauty of verandas and creeping
plants, which are such a pleasant feature on the
lines in Austria, Switzerland and elsewhere.

Before reaching Sindjankeni, the railway,
leaving the level plain, enters a more rocky
region. We pass a village of flat-roofed mud
huts, very poor and miserable-looking, barren
and treeless under the burning sun. The river
is now upon our right hand, reflecting in its pools
and depths great overhanging masses of brown
crags. We are in a cutting through stupendous
rocks ; holes or caves in the great masses on

4

50 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

either side ; a flash through the pinky white chalk ;
another cutting ; the gray mountain masses are
covered with greenish moss, and then the village
of Sindjankeni, another treeless, desolate col-
lection of mud huts, from which we issue once
more upon the many-tinted plain, bounded, as
before, by its hill wall of white chalk, red earth,
and dark green level.

A mountain rises in the distance above a
nearer line of blue and lilac hills. We are draw-
ing near to Angora. The hills are more chalky
now, with many outbursts of gray rock, with
holes and caverns. On the right hand several
tunnels, on the left, large meadows with cattle,
sheep and buffaloes ; the land is dotted with
white tents ; beyond, the ancient city becomes
visible, rising on three hills, the highest point
crowned by the citadel of the old fortifications ;
a long white bridge in the foreground completes
the picture. A few minutes later the train stops
at the station, which is at a short distance from
the base of the principal hill.

ANGORA.

No really comfortable hotel exists as yet at
Angora, but through the kindness of Her
Majesty's Consul, a very clean and suitable lodging
has been prepared in the highest and best part
of the city, opposite to the entrance of the
enclosure of the citadel.

The daylight was fading when we arrived,
after a very rough drive through the uneven,
precipitous streets, and we had little opportunity
for remarking anything except a very large and
startlingly red object at a short distance in front
of the windows. The next morning disclosed
a thoroughly Oriental outlook, with its incon-
gruities, its local colouring, and its varied cos-
tumes, not yet, one joyfully perceives, European-
ized. The incongruity proved to be a tower
flanking the entrance gate of the castle ; it has
been recently painted a fine scarlet, standing

4—2

52 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

out against the dazzling whitewash of the en-
circling wall ; this enormity had been perpe-
trated by a former Vali, who, finding that the
ancient citadel crowning the grand rocky summit
was not, from a distance, sufficiently prominent
and lively - looking, imagined this ' embellish-
ment.'

The vandalism is distressing, but the purely
Oriental character of the scene beneath the
windows is charming. On one side a row of
donkeys stand in the shadow of the overhang-
ing upper story of one of those bewilderingly
picturesque, latticed, tumble-down tenements that
are the joy of the artist and the despair of
sober-minded people. The donkeys are loaded
with long rich swathes of fresh grass for sale ;
beside them, half embedded in the ground, a
beautiful acanthus - leaf capital, reversed ; near
that, again, a hollow block (perhaps once also
a reversed capital) in which a man is pounding
a mass of gray-stone (pillon), much used in this
country for washing purposes.

On the opposite side of the small irregular
square a handsome-looking house is pointed out
as the property of the Karaman Ogli family,

ANGORA 53

a name so much connected with the earliest
Ottoman records, that, were it not for the
beautiful horses waiting at the gateway, with
their well-appointed and most modern equip-
ments, we might seem to have gone back six
centuries.

In the front of our house the road winds
steeply upwards towards the outer wall of the
citadel ; and, somewhat up the slope, we can see
the groups collected at the fountain which yields
the only supply of water for this part of the city ;
they are mostly women and girls ; they pass to
and fro, wrapped in their white garments like
winding-sheets. All women here, Mussulman
and Christian alike, wear the ghostly-looking
wrapper of calico or muslin, edged with lace
and very clean ; it is pinned or held round the
face, and covers nearly the entire person.

As we watch the animated scene near the
fountain, and the silent, shrouded figures melting
into the dim recesses of the archway leading into
the citadel, we observe that many pause in groups
on a rising ground a little withdrawn from the
road, to gaze at the visitors, military and civilian,
who are making their way upwards towards the

54 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

British Consulate, and we remember that to-day
is May 24, the Queen's birthday. Presently,
with a great clatter and rattle on the stony road-
way, cavasses dash onwards, preceding the Vali,
in a rich uniform covered with gold embroidery ;
he mounts a splendid Arab, much excited by
the fitful blasts of the military band stationed in
front of the Consulate, but the rider manages
him beautifully, and preserves the dignity of his
arrival ; next, the Persian Consul, marked by his
astrakan cap, also with much glitter and gold
about his person, passes in a carriage, followed
shortly by an Archbishop, some lesser dignitaries,
and a few directors and clerks of the Ottoman
Bank, the Tobacco Regie, and some other public
establishments. The whole scene, with the
attendant groups of sais, cavasses, and party-
coloured retainers of all sorts, forms a brilliant
spectacle ; it glitters and flashes in the clear, pure
air of this rocky summit, which has in itself some
quality remarkably exhilarating and healthful.
Angora, indeed, is looked upon as a health resort,
and many invalids from the surrounding country
are brought here to ensure their recovery.

It is a well-known fact that the air and water

ANGORA 55

of this district possess qualities which, combined,
serve to produce the beautiful ' tiftik ' (wool of
the Angora goats), which combination of qualities
exists absolutely in no other — as yet discovered —
place, with the exception of the Cape of Good
Hope, where the raising of those flocks is carried
on to a great extent. The same influence acts
in a more or less degree upon sheep and cats,
and (presumably) upon most long-haired animals.
The export of goats from the Vilayet of Angora
is forbidden, now that it is almost too late to
save this, the chief source of the wealth of the
country.

Our first visit was paid to the ruins of the cele-
brated temple dedicated to * The God Augustus
and The Goddess Rome ' ; the temple on whose
walls may still be deciphered the greater part of
the famous Testamentum Ancyranum, carved in
the marble, while the metal plates of the original
inscription, of which this was a reproduction,
perished long centuries ago in one of the over-
whelming catastrophes that engulfed the power
and the pride of ancient Rome. A facsimile of
this most unique record is given in the great
work * La Galatie et la Bithynie ' of Perrot and

56 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Guillaume, from which I extract the title and the
concluding lines.

The title declares this to be 4 A Record of the
Acts by which the Divine Augustus subjugated
the Universe to the Power of the Roman People ;
of the Expenses incurred for the Republic and
the People of Rome,' and states this to be ' an
authentic copy of the record engraven at Rome
on two tables of brass.' At the end we find,
' When I wrote this I was in my seventy-third
year/

Guided by our host, we pause at the Beilidiyeh
(town-hall) to obtain the key. It is produced,
after a short delay, by a policeman, accompanied
by a second solemn official, presumably to
relieve the first officer of the oppressive weight
of an ordinary iron key ! but the reason of the
manoeuvre became subsequently plain when it
was suggested by our guide that nothing lower
than a m^djidie apiece could be offered to such
responsible personages.

Before reaching the entrance gate we were
joined by a Turkish gentleman, the secretary of
the Vali, perhaps with a wish to visit the ancient
ruin, possibly with the idea of ascertaining what

ANGORA 57

might be the meaning of the rather unusual
circumstance of the excursion of three lady
visitors to Angora.

The old wooden doors opened upon a tangled
mass of weeds and briars ; some Turkish tomb-
stones, mostly broken, neglected, uncared for,
leaned forlornly to right and left amongst the
rubbish, but in the centre towered a majestic
object, a monumental doorway of white marble,
the jambs and lintel preserving, almost entire, the
exquisite carving in scroll and foliage, while parts
of a band of rich frieze-work still ornamented
the adjoining wall, and can be traced wherever
time, neglect, or wilful destruction may have
spared the upper portions of the monument.
The very lofty proportions of this doorway
doubtless account for the fact — not observed by
Texier, but mentioned by Perrot, and obvious in
the accompanying photograph — of the slight
narrowing of the structure upwards ; this mag-
nificent entrance is called by the latter author
' one of the most complete of the rare ancient
doorways that still remain.'

On the marble walls, at right angles, a great
part of the celebrated Latin inscription may still

58 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

be traced, the first part of it being on the left
hand (as you face the doorway), the second part
on the right ; the Greek rendering of the Latin
text was discovered, hidden by dwellings and
stabling which, on the disappearance of the
columns and porticos of the ancient temple, had
been built against the outer wall of the great
oblong hall into which you enter through the
beautiful doorway. These buildings were mostly
cleared away (temporarily) by Messrs. Perrot
and Guillaume in 1861, and the Greek inscription
photographed ; it is now once more lost to view
behind the sordid mud walls and sun-dried bricks
that are permitted to deface this beautiful monu-
ment of ancient art and grandeur.

We passed onward into the great hall ; here
may be observed, on the right hand, the windows
which were opened to give light to the interior
when the pagan temple became a Christian
church. Beyond these windows some traces of
a partition wall still exist ; and at the extreme
end an addition to the building seems to have
been made for the purposes of Christian worship ;
beneath this part some rude steps are said to
lead into a crypt.

ANGORA 59

The wall forming the boundary of the hall on
the right shows, in its marble blocks, the per-
fection of solid and careful workmanship, smoothed,
fitted and put together without cement, but on
the opposite side an enormous breach in the
smooth surface recalls the fact that as late as 1834
a descendant of Hadji Bai'ram (whose Mosque
and Teke adjoining the temple had, in the time
of Sultan Soliman, already injured the beautiful
monument), needing some marble for a bath in
his country house, knocked down and carried off
this large portion of wall.

Tradition affirms that bronze gates of corre-
sponding richness and beauty to the stately gate-
way were carried off by Haroun al Rashid to
adorn his palace at Bagdad ; but this statement
is not credited.

We left the enclosure, but paused — before the
wooden doorway and the inexorable key should
shut us out into the sordid lane — to admire the
golden sunlight and breadth of shadow on the
beautiful ruin towering above the weeds and
brambles and neglected graves, and crowned at
its apex by a gigantic stork's nest.

We were taken into the adjoining Teke of

60 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Hadji Bairam ; there was no mistaking the place,
for the name in immense Arabic letters gleamed
startlingly over the entrance through which you
pass into a small courtyard. In a low, mean-
looking building on the right hand side, the open
door disclosed a length of stone wall covered
with ancient inscriptions ; some old men were
performing their ' namaz ' (prayer) ; and, respect-
ing their devotions, we drew back, without dis-
cerning whether Greek or Latin were the
language used and engraved on the stone or
marble ; I have since regretted the lost oppor-
tunity.

Not far from the Augusteum — the name by
which the celebrated ruined temple is usually
known — we were taken by many a tortuous, ill-
paved lane towards the outskirts of the city,
where, in an open irregular space, you come upon
a tall column of a reddish colour. It is curiously
formed of rings in high relief, and raised on a
pedestal ; the capital, of very inferior workman-
ship and style, displays shields held by acanthus
leaves. On one side it is much broken away and
defaced ; it is needless to add that the storks
could not resist such a tempting and secure

ANGORA 61

position for a home, and an overpoweringly hand-
some mansion of twigs and brambles decorates
the summit. The proportions of this column are
singularly ungraceful, and indicate a period of
decline in art. It is supposed to have been
erected in honour of the Emperor Julian, who
was received here, after his apostasy, with great
honour and rejoicing by the heathen priesthood.
He passed some time in this city.

Turning back towards the more populous
quarters, in order to visit the ancient Byzantine
Church of St. Clement, we could not but admire,
so far as the excruciating nature of the broken
paving-stones permitted, the picturesque look of
the brick and wooden houses that overhang the
turning, winding, narrow lanes of the old city :
their projecting upper stories supported on heavy
beams ; their rows of small windows latticed in
honeycomb pattern ; here and there a trailing
vine branch throwing flickering shadows on stone
and woodwork ; their deep eaves and general air
of dilapidation ; such ' bits ' — ready-made pictures
— may still be found in every Eastern city ; but
civilization, brought by steam and rail, is rapidly
advancing on Angora with its inevitable accom-

62 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

paniment of brick and mortar tenements, perhaps
even ' residential flats.' Happily these changes
will principally affect for a long time to come the
neighbourhood of the railway-station ; and visitors
may still take delight in the exceeding abundance
of ancient remains to be found in Angora, in the
upper parts of the city especially : fragments of
Roman, Byzantine and Greek work, capitals and
broken shafts of columns, bits of frieze worked
into the mud walls, cornices, inscribed slabs,
remnants of sculpture.

The old ruined Church of St. Clement stands
in the enclosure of some private property, and we
had ample time to admire a fine Corinthian
capital, serving as a horse-block, before the pro-
prietress, a Greek, made her appearance with a
bunch of rusty keys. The wooden gate opened
into a neglected, weedy yard, with some broken
remnants of ancient marbles ; but the most
noticeable object was a small Angora cat, which
fled at our approach. One looked at the flying
mass of soft silky fur with interest, as this race of
cats has almost disappeared from the city which
is commonly supposed to be its native place.

The small Byzantine church, built of brick,

ANGORA 63

with pilasters in white marble, is in a most forlorn
condition. The pilasters had originally displayed
long crosses, but the transverse arms had been
mutilated by Mussulman conquerors. Flanking
the entrance doorway are the remains of two
sculptured ankers ; some imagine these to signify
the origin of the name Ancyra.

It is supposed that St. Clement suffered martyr-
dom during the longest and most bitter, as it was
the last, of the persecutions under Diocletian.
He became the patron saint of the city, and soon
after his death a great Council of the Church was
held in Ancyra, to which came Bishops from all
parts of Asia Minor, the President being the
Bishop of Antioch. A large shapeless slab in
the earthen floor is pointed out as covering the
burial-place of the martyred Bishop.

In the afternoon a delightful drive took us
into the country, turning at first towards the
plain, in order to visit the ancient monastery of
Vauk, belonging originally to a Greek community,
now to the Armenians of the Gregorian rite.
It stands pleasantly on a rising ground near a
grove of fine old trees, a small stream rippling
in the dip of the land. After some little delay,

64 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

we are invited into the reception-room, where the
Bishop, dignified and very polite, advances with a
cordial welcome. A carriage had driven up in
front of our own, and we found the occupants,
one of them a Mussulman imam, already seated
on the broad divans. Conversation began in the
usual slow, sententious manner of the East, the
host and his guests no doubt inwardly wondering
what could have brought three ladies to such an
out-of-the-world place as Angora ; but they were
too polite to suggest the inquiry, and the stately
speech and answer remained chiefly between the
imam and the Bishop. They discussed the
virtues of a neighbouring mineral spring as a
remedy for rheumatism; spoke of the weather and
the prospects of the crops, carefully avoiding all
the burning questions of the day ; and we sat
wondering when the coffee was likely to appear,
when we should be invited to see the church, and,
indeed, at last, whether we might not give up the
investigation, retire politely and blandly, and once
more find ourselves in the open carriage on our

way to Mr. C Js country house, rolling — more

probably jolting — over the ruts and chasms of
the road, but at least in the clear open country,

ANGORA 65

enjoying the fresh thyme-scented breezes of that
healthy locality. Release came at last, however,
and, the coffee taken, the Bishop rose and pro-
posed to show us the church.

A fine old Byzantine church, richly ornamented
with the beautiful Kutaya tiling similar to that of
the Yeshil Djami of Broussa. In the centre of
the arched entrance into the church from the
narthex, a curious stone is pointed out ; it shows
on the one side a heavily-carved cross, almost
detached from the surrounding border ; on the
reverse side it forms a different emblem.

The modern frontal of the altar, richly em-
broidered in gold, is handsome, though not other-
wise interesting ; but a large baptismal font in a
side chapel shows a curious and rather comical
adaptation of what seems to have been a heathen
altar to its present Christian uses. The frontal
slab is of marble, beautifully sculptured with a
group of dancing cupids, or bacchanalian children ;
now, slightly draped with wreaths of coloured
leaves, they have been sobered down into attendant
angels. In one of the windows they point out a
* yan tash ' (burning stone), giving out a bright
red glow ; it is regarded as a wonder. We

5

66 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

imagine it to be a thin slab of very transparent
alabaster.

Outside the gate of the monastery a railing
surrounding a burial enclosure attracted our atten-
tion. We were not invited to enter, a fact which
I have since greatly regretted, on learning that
not only does it contain the graves of some well-
known English people who had died at Angora,
but that in that spot may be seen many fragments
of antique carving and inscriptions.

We are approaching a group of villas and
country houses on a hill slope, at about an hour's
distance from the city. At first strange jagged
rocks seem to start up amidst the fields and
thickets, a wild contrast to the soft foliage and
stretches of cultivation. Gradually the rocky
points subside, the leafy shade thickens, we are
amongst gardens and orchards and winding lanes,
and reach at length the end of our little excur-
sion, the delightfully picturesque, vine-trellised
summer retreat of our kind Consul and his charm-
ing young wife.

There is, perhaps, no contrast so keenly appre-
ciated in these Eastern lands as the sudden
change from the rough wildness of the scenery

ANGORA 67

and people of the country, to the refinement and
charm of cultivated intercourse, to be best met
with among British Consuls in these far-away
solitudes. It is delightfully satisfactory to un-
earth, or gaze upon, or sketch relics of ages lost
in the dimness of legend and supposition ; but
that very modern afternoon tea-ta£>le, the kind
intelligent father, the sweet and graceful hostess,
and the lovely baby-boy, have left with us as
pleasant a memory as any incident during our
little expedition to Angora.

These country residences are endowed with a
most abundant supply of water, each house having
its own especial conduit from some source among
the mountains. In this garden the never-ceasing
trickle from the marble fountain amongst the rose-
bushes added one other element of restful charm.

Returning to Angora by a different road in the
cool of the after-glow, we notice once more the
strangely weird masses of brown rock that burst
upwards on all sides.

A cavass has come from the Consulate as our
guide and escort into the enclosure of the fortress.

5—2

68 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

He leads us by a short but steep ascent, through
the white gate of the citadel, into a labyrinth of
tortuous lanes, becoming steeper still and steeper,
and at length so narrow as almost to stifle our
admiration for the beautiful lights and shadows of
the old, tumbling, half-ruined houses, with their
projecting upper stories, all mud and wood and
plaster. We reach the last of the dwellings and
come out upon a hillside, so rough with jagged
rocks and fragments of stone and marble that
until the summit is gained the surrounding scenery
is unnoticed. It bursts upon our sight — a splendid
panorama! Beneath and beyond the dwellings,
mosques, and minarets of the lower town, the
suburbs, with groups and clusters of foliage,
stretch away towards the Armenian monastery
and the broad and fertile plain, bounded by a line
of high hills. Beyond that natural rampart lies
the scene of the celebrated battle in 1402, between
Beyezid Ilderim and Timour-Lenk (the lame
Timour), commonly known as Tamerlane. The
place is described as * a smooth plain surrounded
by mountains, looking like a vast circus ;' it is
now called the plain of Tchibouk Abad.

Near to the summit on which we are standing,

ANGORA 69

divided only by a deep arid very narrow gorge,
rises a conical-shaped hill, bearing on its point
between two crags a small edifice — a turbeh with
a little cupola. It is said to belong to the Hadji
Bairam Mosque, and we are told that the building
was raised to the memory of a Mussulman saint
who was killed on the spot ; then, fact lapsing into
legend, it is declared that an enormous block of
marble lying at our feet reached its present
position by being thrown from the opposite hill
against the castle by hand !

We cannot enter the interior citadel — Djin
Kale — on the extreme summit of the hill ; it is
now used as a powder magazine, and is difficult
of access ; but there was no cause for regret, as I
have since been assured on the best authority
that neither ancient fragments nor inscriptions are
to be found in that enclosure. The situation,
however, crowning as it does on the side of the
ravine an immense upheaval of gigantic oblong
blocks of basaltic rock, is sublime in its stern and
seemingly impregnable isolation.

Amongst the ruined masses at the foot of the
wall we are shown a large marble lion, bearing a
very Persian aspect. Stone or marble lions seem

70 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

to have been much favoured here in former times.
I am told of no less than eight of these, sculp-
tured in marble, still existing in Angora, and of
one other — the most interesting of them all,
mentioned and photographed by Perrot — that
until lately decorated the road-side fountain of
Kalaba, in the neighbourhood of the city. ' This

was doubtless,' says Mr. C , ' one of the four

Phrygian lions said to have been brought to this
city.' It was taken possession of by the local
authorities in 1893, and sent to the museum of
Tchinli Kiosque in Stamboul.

Pursuing our road through the ruins, one can
form some idea of the vast extent of the castle
enclosure, which during the Middle Ages was
regarded as one of the most important fortresses
of Asia Minor. The fortified wall (now much
broken away in parts) had been strengthened
throughout its entire length by towers ; but oh !
the hideous defacement of these venerable re-
mains ! they have been quite recently painted a
bright-red colour ; in some instances the red has
been varied by white and blue ; one large massive
tower shows pale blue half-way up, the upper
half scarlet ; on the crenellated wall the forms are

ANGORA 71

marked out in lines of vivid aniline blue upon
whitewash, with central spots of scarlet ; this utter
depravity of taste can scarcely reach a lower
depth. The line of fortified wall separates the
citadel from the lower town. It is supposed that
the last repairs executed here in the castle defences
were due to Allah-ed-din, the last Seldjuk Sultan
of Iconium, in the thirteenth century.

The bewildering amount of fragments of ancient
sculpture and architecture to be found in this part
of the city is almost incredible : of funereal and
votive slabs ; of shafts and capitals of columns ;
of pedestals and altars ; mostly on the inner side
of the encircling wall. Every chiselled stone
seems to bear some ancient inscription, as you
approach the old gate, now called Parmak Kapou;
but before reaching it we turn aside into a small
Byzantine church — not very remarkable ; it
also possesses a * yan tash ' (burning stone) let
into the outer wall, similar to that in the Armenian
monastery.

We pass on. Still more inscriptions and bits of
sculpture inserted in the rough walls. On the
right hand a large slab shows a cross in low relief;
it forms a part of a great corner-tower, the base of

72 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

which is composed of large marble slabs, the upper
portion of brick and stone; the angle, enriched by
a beautiful fragment of frieze-work, brings into
view an extent of wall of which the destination
and purpose is not apparent. Several mutilated
statues in high relief are inserted lengthways near
the base ; one square block seems to represent
angels or cupids, the whole mingled with inscrip-
tions and thickly plastered with whitewash. Near
to this curious wall we find the small mosque built
by Allah-ed-din III., the Seldjuk Sultan to whose
beneficent and enlightened rule many religious
and useful constructions, elegant in style and rich
in decoration, are ascribed. Angora, conquered
and taken from the Seldjuk princes by Murad I.,
has rapidly declined from that time ; all those
traces of past wealth and prosperity — sculptures,
Greek and Latin inscriptions, bridges, roads,
edifices of all kinds — are falling year by year into
more hopeless and absolute ruin. But this mosque
of Allah-ed-din is an exception ; it has been quite
recently thoroughly repaired, and the columns and
other remains of heathen temples originally used
in its construction are still plainly visible.

Beside the mosque, a very small Turkish

ANGORA 73

cemetery shows several oblong slabs supporting
the railings of the enclosure ; each slab bears an
ancient inscription.

Perrot says of this neighbourhood : 'If the
crumbling walls on either side of Parmak Kapou
were to be demolished, hundreds of inscriptions
would infallibly be brought to light.'

We left Angora with much regret, feeling that
a longer time than our three days' stay might
have been delightfully employed, and, being
obliged by railway arrangements to pass the
night at Eskischeir, decided to spend one day
there in order to visit some remains of the ancient
Doryleum.

At a short half-hour's drive from the station
hotel, we reach a broad district of low grass and
bramble-covered hillocks, broken-up mounds and
deep holes, in which men are busily working,
taking out huge blocks of stone or marble. We
had met on the road several rude carts heavily
laden, and we were disposed at first greatly to
admire the fine native zeal for antiquarian re-
search, until it was explained that the country
round possessed no stone-quarries, and that the

74 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

stone-workers were simply seeking for material to
be cut up for house-building. One long trench
certainly showed, deep down, remains of a base-
ment of wall of cut and chiselled marble, with
indications of coping-stone and ornamental work ;
other holes revealed corners and fragments of
white marble gleaming through the brown earth.
Many columns and interesting fragments of anti-
quity have been long since carted away for the
benefit of the town of Eskischeir, which, from
being a world -forgotten place, is now rapidly
rising into importance as a junction railway-
station, from which lines to Kutaya, Koniah, and
on towards Smyrna, are already opened out in
their nearer sections.

We did not see the famous meerschaum mines.
They are at some distance in another direction,
and are also practically difficult of access, as the
precious material is reached through deep wells
sunk far below the surface. The trade in meer-
schaum is pursued with great profit and activity.
It is found embedded like the kernel of a nut in
large formless lumps of seemingly gray clay.

The town of Eskischeir, on a rising ground a
short distance from the railway, has few attractions

ANGORA 75

to offer. A large and rather pretentious hotel,
some municipal buildings, and modern dwelling-
houses in the upper quarter, exhaust the list of
the best-meaning guide. The bazaars are poor
and insignificant, but some pleasant woodland
scenery on the lower slopes of the neighbouring
hills may offer compensation to the inhabitants of
the place.

[76]

HISTORY OF ANCYRA.

LEGENDARY lore attributes the foundation of
Ancyra (the ancient name of Angora) to Midas,
making it thus a Phrygian city ; but a fact that is
not disputed is the importance attached to the
occupation of the place by Alexander the Great
during his march across Asia Minor.

Perrot, in his great work, ' La Galatie et la
Bithynie,' rejects the usual explanation of the
name * Ancyra,' and seeks its derivation from a
Sanscrit word ' ankas,' a curve, as applying to
the situation of the city rising above narrow and
curved ravines. When Galatia became a Roman
province, Ancyra, the capital, was renamed
Sebaste, and the most beautiful monument in the
city was the stately temple dedicated to ' The God
Augustus and The Goddess Rome,' of which very
important remains may still be seen. The worship
paid to Augustus and to his successors lasted

HISTORY OF ANCYRA 77

until Christianity - - very early brought into
Galatia — became established there after the ces-
sation of the persecutions under Diocletian ; it is
even supposed that St. Paul preached here to the
Galatians. St. Clement, who afterwards became
its patron saint, suffered martyrdom in the city.
On the spread of Christianity, Ancyra became an
Apostolic see.

During the fourth century Ancyra was es-
teemed one of the most learned and cultivated
cities of Asia Minor. An old author even
compares it to Athens, and speaks of the refine-
ment and intelligence to be found amongst the
inhabitants, and praises the beauty of the climate
of the neighbouring hills, rich in beautiful trees,
in sparkling waters, in abundant fruits, in luxu-
riant vegetation. It is to this day regarded as a
health resort.

Ancyra, protected by its fortress, which during
the Middle Ages passed for one of the most
important in Asia Minor, seems to have retained
its prosperity until the beginning of the seventh
century, when it was taken by the Persians in
A.D. 616; reconquered by Heraclius, and, about
two centuries later, was again besieged and pil-

78 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

laged by Haroun-al-Rashid ; but, owing to the
importance of the fortifications, and to the great
stream of commerce passing through this central
point towards the interior of Asia, it quickly re-
covered somewhat from its disasters. A durable
peace, however, and some shadow of its ancient
prosperity returned only with the beneficent rule
of the Seldjuk dynasty, dating from the end of
the eleventh century.

These Seldjuk princes, who endowed their
principal city, Iconium (now Koniah), with
colleges, mosques, and palaces, founded also at
Ancyra many important buildings, of which rich
fragments still remain. The finest of these are
attributed to Allah-ed-din III. (1220-1237).

In the early part of the fourteenth century
Ancyra was taken from the Seldjuks by Murad I.,
and since that time all memories of past splendour
—sculptures, Greek and Latin inscriptions, bridges,
roads, public edifices — have been gradually falling
into decay and disappearing.

It is difficult, without seeing them, to imagine
the immense number of fragments of architecture,
of votive and funereal monuments, of shafts and
capitals of columns, pedestals and altars, to be

HISTORY OF ANCYRA 79

remarked within the enclosure of the city wall,
and in the still higher part, in the neighbourhood
of the gate called Parmak Kapou. ' There is a
stretch of wall that contains a long band formed
of pedestals, altars, and heads of Medusa ; this
curious wall is supported on masses of rough
brickwork, and beneath, on marble blocks, may
be read two inscriptions to the effect that the
work of reconstruction took place under the
Byzantine Emperor Michael ' (Perrot). Local
tradition affirms that the last repair of the forti-
fications was executed by order of the Seldjuk
Sultan Allah-ed-din.

[ 8o]

SUMMER DAYS IN CHALCEDON, 1865.

JORGHI, the Greek servant, calls this place Hal-
kithon. The Turks have named it Kadikeuy, or
the village of the Kadi, and I know it as the best
and most enjoyable of all the pleasant villages
that line the sparkling shores of the Bosphorus.

During the absence of my husband in England
I am spending a brief summer holiday here with
kind friends, whose charming house stands in a
corner of the vineyard which formerly covered
the whole of the little promontory called Moda
Bournou. It was celebrated for its fine ' tchaoush '
grapes, and, until within a few years, was innocent
of modern brick and mortar ; but the tide of
public favour has begun to set this way, and
houses are rapidly springing up in all directions.
You might imagine it a suburb of some small
provincial town in France, were it not for a large
green tent in the neighbouring field, which quickly

SUMMER DAYS IN CHALCEDON, 1865 81

undeceives you. This is inhabited by a family
of Montenegrins. They sleep in their tent, but
pass the greater part of the day under a spreading
tree in front of our house. The kitchen-range is
set up amongst the roots of a fine mastic-tree.
The owner of the tent, who struts about gorgeous
in gold-braided jackets and a belt full of orna-
mental weapons, and who commands his servant
with the air of an emperor, is called by the neigh-
bours Prince of Montenegro, as he lays claim to
be connected by marriage with the ruler of his
small country. Nevertheless, the princess, his
wife . . . takes in washing ! at so many piastres
the dozen, and she certainly acquits herself to our
satisfaction, quite as if she had been accustomed
to it all her life. This green tent under the trees,
with its half-wild occupants, recalls the Eastern
element to the picture.

My friend's house, built nearly on the verge of
the cliff, is a delightful dwelling, such as London
auctioneers would describe as * a desirable villa
residence.' On the ground-floor a cool marble
hall leads through a rustic porch, heavy with
clematis and passion-flower, into a bright garden
all sparkling with sunshine and gay blossoms.

6

82 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Of this part of the small domain I must say, as
the greatest praise, that it is simply a garden, not
a park, or pleasure-grounds, or parterres, or
anything too grand or too extensive for the care
of the two gentlemen who, aided by a Croat,
make its cultivation the healthy employment of
their spare moments ; a garden with just the
slightest suggestion of the cottage about it, to
give it a thoroughly comfortable look ; a garden
where the flowers are intended to be plucked
(discreetly), where, through the waving masses
of the rose-covered trellised walk, you may dis-
cover healthy green-peas and robust cabbages
not ashamed to be seen in their proper place ; a
garden where the geraniums have not yet all
become pelargoniums, and where the delicate old-
fashioned scarlet fuchsia dares still to show itself
beside its washed-out, sickly -looking modern
sister ; a border of homely, fragrant lavender
blossoms modestly in one corner, and some sweet-
briar bushes, delicate and scarce, are tended with
peculiar care. Mixed with all these friends of
childhood are others that speak of a foreign clime.
Long pendant leaves of the sugar-cane are waving
near the orange and lemon trees, whose bright

SUMMER DAYS IN CHALCEDON, 1865 83

golden fruit sets off the rich tints of a wild pome-
granate ; the castor-oil plant spreads abroad its
large, finely -cut leaves ; the snowy cotton is
bursting from the pod ; and the heavy yellow
clusters of the Indian wheat gleam here and there
beyond the ' tchaoush ' vines and the waving,
feathery mimosa-trees.

There is a slight paling behind a row of rasp-
berry-bushes that marks the limit of the enclosure ;
beyond it, and scarcely divided to the eye, the
vineyard, the avenues of trees, the azure sea, and
the distant shadowy mountains. But of this
tempting landscape a better view will be obtained
from the terrace.

On the upper story of the house, crossing a
drawing-room, from which you get a dreamy
vision of Stamboul in the distance glowing through
a mist of violet and gold, you reach this terrace,
without which no house in the East is complete.
It has been lately trellised over for the support
of various delicate climbing plants, but these we
do not even see. It is the view beyond which at
once arrests the eye.

To the left hand, on the summit of the cliff
overhanging the little bay, the college, with its

6-2

84 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

warm colouring of a pinkish-gold tint, stands out
in exquisite relief against the green foliage and
dark purple masses of Kaisch Dagh. This cliff
falls abruptly down from the college to the bay,
which is bounded on one side by a wooded head-
land ; on the other by fine terebinth and mastic
trees, with an occasional olive for variety. From
the foot of Kai'sch Dagh, on the opposite shore of
the bay, the land, dotted with villas and ' tchiftliks,'
and rich in clumps of trees, green shady lanes, and
pleasant fields, runs out into the blue Marmora,
until it narrows to a point marked by a mag-
nificent group of plane-trees ; but there, as if
unwilling yet to leave the clear mirror which is
reflecting all its beauties, it shoots out again, a
long tongue of land covered with stately cypresses.
A white old-fashioned lighthouse stands on the
extreme point, and harmonizes well with the sur-
rounding scenery. This promontory is called by
the Greeks Fanaraki ; by the Turks, Fanar
Bagtche (Garden of the Lighthouse). The
ancient name was Hereion.

In the foreground of the picture, there, at our
very feet, is the rustic walk, bordered by the
terebinth and mastic trees overhanging the water,

SUMMER DAYS IN CHALCEDON, 1865 85

where the 4 lite among the Kadikiotes stroll up
and down to display their dresses, or sit on low
stools to sip the coffee supplied from a small
coffee- shop at the entrance of the walk.

This is the most favoured spot of all. Here
Riza Pasha, the fallen Minister of Abdul Medjid,
may often be seen sitting on one of the square
stools enjoying the refreshing breezes of the bay,
while he smokes his narghile. He comes quite
simply now, with perhaps a single attendant ; for,
though still wealthy, he is a broken man, and greatly
aged since the days of his full-blown prosperity.

Just beneath this favourite lounge is the new
stone scala, where all our little boats— the Polly,
the Lucy, the Janie, the Ada, and others — are
moored, and lie in safety under the care of the
cafedji. Here, as the glowing ardour of the day
begins to abate, the energetic British members of
the little colony collect, and rowing matches
come off under the wondering eyes of the listless
Levantines, to whom unnecessary exertion is a
subject of intense astonishment.

Let us look up to the high ground, behind the
College, there ; all is bustle and activity in and
about the short row of houses which have

86 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

clustered together for the benefit of fresh air,
sea-bathing and quiet (?). There is a German
hotel and a French hotel, both full of visitors,
who group themselves about the doors as the
shadows of evening begin to fall, and their voices
reach us at intervals across the grassy slope ;
there, also, as surely as the gray tints creep
upwards upon the bright-coloured College wall,
four merry little black ponies, with four merry
little riders, trot briskly upwards, and stop at the
door of the third house in the row. Then dinner-
bells ring, and the bustling, active, outdoor life
subsides for a time, to wake up once more about
two hours later. If there is moonlight, you then
see groups of idlers again lounging backwards
and forwards ; all the windows are open, and
sounds of music float upwards, while we are
perhaps engaged in a merry contest at bagatelle.
But this is the end of our day ; the earlier
hours, happy as we ourselves feel them to be,
deserve a few words of remembrance, although
there is little excitement and less of adventure
in our daily life.

The bell clangs loudly at half-past six in the
morning ; and after breakfast our host and T. T.,

SUMMER DAYS IN CHALCEDON, 1865 87

who forms part of the family, start for a twenty
minutes' walk to the steamer that carries them
to their occupations on the European shore — for
we are in Asia. Before leaving, however, the
gentlemen who are devoted to their garden have
found time to visit their pet plants. T. T. (not
Tiny Tim, but Trusty Thomas) has seen that
his seedling geraniums and oranges and lemons

are thriving, and Mr. C reports that the

heavy wealth of the Banksia roses has broken
the light trellis-work of the garden walk. Then
they depart, and, the masculine element being
thus happily disposed of, we begin that cheerful
mixture of practical and intellectual pursuits
which keeps every faculty healthy and alive. One
day, perhaps, there is some fruit to be picked for
preserving, for a man has come round with a
bargain in red currants (rather a rarity here), and
the opportunity must not be lost ; so, as the
servants are all busy, we tuck up our sleeves,
put on aprons, and set to work in a pleasant
morning-room, with folding doors wide open upon
the arbour of passion-flower and clematis* with
the bright garden beyond, all sparkling and
joyous in the sunshine.

88 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

We are a very happy little party of four ladies ;
in fact, we are so well satisfied with each other's
society and with our various useful or ornamental
occupations of painting, music, needlework and
reading, that I am afraid we do not stand very
high in the estimation of the rest of the colony
for preferring these to the prevailing habit of
strolling listlessly into each other's houses to tell
Mrs. M. or N. that 'those Miss X. Y.'s have
actually got new dresses again, though, to be
sure, they are only imitation, and very flimsy ;
they won't wash, for certain ; but how their
father affords so much finery is more than one
can imagine ;' or to state an opinion of * that idle
Greek maid Calliope, who, instead of sweeping
her rooms, has taken her parasol and gone for
a stroll down Moda, in the very heat of the day,

too ' ; or to wonder at ' Madame V 's dirty

little servant - of - all - work, Thespinoula, who
objects to go to the neighbouring bakal's for a
supply of candles because she is a demoiselle,
and it is not fitting that an unprotected maiden
should go to a public shop.' I may observe that,
in general, Thespinoula flaps about the house in
slippers and stockingless feet ; she wears her

SUMMER DAYS IN CHALCEDON, 1865 89

uncombed hair hanging in a tail down her back
from under a dirty rag that once was white, while
her garments display an absence of superfluity at
times almost distressing ; yet on fete days she
expands like a gaily-decked umbrella, and her head
is adorned with one of the prettiest of coiffures,
the light handkerchief, with its border of ' biblibi,'
forming a coronal of bright-coloured silk flowers.

These Greek servants are an independent
race, quick - witted in general, and capable of
becoming good domestics, but they have their
peculiarities. I knew a few years ago an honest
and faithful servant whose wits might be said to
be nowhere ; his sayings and doings became
proverbial, and he answered to the name of
Nicodemus. ' Oh, what have you done?' ex-
claimed my friend Madame F in dismay ;

4 you have broken my vase, my beautiful vase ; it
is ruined — I can never replace it.'

* Madame,' replied Nicodemus calmly, 'do not
distress yourself; the harm is not so great, for I
have only broken one half of it ; the other half
is all right.'

Mr. F directed that the remainder of a

bottle of rare wine should be put aside, and was

90 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

astonished to see a full bottle appear at table the
next day. * I did as you wished, sir,' observed
Nicodemus ; * there was some other wine in that
bottle already, but that does not signify, as I took
care to pour the good wine quite on the top.'

But I have wandered from our morning-room,
with its green Venetian blinds and its peeps of
sea and mountain, garden and vineyard. Our
kind hostess, who delights in procuring as much
enjoyment as possible, is constantly planning the
most delightful schemes for possible and im-
possible excursions, such as a picnic to Kaisch
Dagh, for which we must have horses ; three or
four days of tent life in the beautiful forest of
Alem Dagh ; a row across the bay to take our tea
on the cypress-covered promontory of Fanaraki ;
and, lastly, a little cruise in a small steam yacht
round the Gulf of Nicomedia ; they are charming
plans and ideas, and, if not realized, very pleasant
indeed to think about. But at present we must

listen to the reading, for F , a very amiable

member of our little coterie, greatly increases our
enjoyment, and helps our light labours by her
readiness to read aloud anything we may wish to
hear for an unlimited length of time — a rare merit.

SUMMER DAYS IN CHALCEDON, 1865 91

Thus our mornings glide away. About noon
we dine ; then, if the day be very warm, we
retire to take a siesta in our rooms, from which
we are aroused by the afternoon coffee ; after
this it is time to dress again, for at five o'clock
a firm, decided, possessive knock resounds
through the house, announcing the return of the
gentlemen. When there is moonlight, and the
plans are for a boating excursion later in the
evening, a substantial meat tea is spread in the
arbour under the flowering limes at the bottom
of the garden. The table is decorated with
flowers, the air scented with sweetbriar, Schio
jasmine, orange-blossom, and all the various per-
fumes of the daintily kept parterres ; and, just
beyond the paling, a wild pomegranate lights up
the scene with its scarlet clusters.

Sometimes our repast is made at Fanaraki, the
long point of land covered with those wonderful
old cypresses, where formerly stood a summer
palace of the Greek emperors, built by Justinian
on the site of the temple of Juno, and where also
were erected two churches, baths, and other public
buildings, ; in the midst of the grove of ancient
weird-looking trees, and on the adjoining tract of

92 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

land, some slight remains of the former buildings
may be traced in a ruined cistern, and crumbling
heaps of ancient brickwork. Along the shore
eastwards, considerable ruins of masonry, with
fragments of marble columns, slabs and great
quantities of mosaic tesserae, to be gathered from
amongst the pebbles, still further testify to the
importance of the buildings that must formerly
have adorned this spot.

The cypresses of Fanaraki are the most gaunt
and strange-looking specimens of the kind that
can be seen. They are without doubt of great
age, as almost every tree has another tree of a
different kind — terebinth, wild pear, fig — growing
from the very centre of its branches, and these,
also, show signs of long duration.

I am sitting in the vineyard with Lulu, my
little Macedonian dog, at my feet ; the scene is a
curious mixture of nature and civilization, in
which nature has the decided advantage. In
front I see the scattered dwellings of the Euro-
pean colony of Moda Bournon ; from one or two
of these the strains of the educational piano, in

SUMMER DAYS IN CHALCEDON, 1865 93

various stages of progress, come floating over
the tops of the vines, and I catch now a few bars
from Gounod's ' Faust '; now some painfully un-
even scales ; a feeble voice is asking anxiously :
' What are the wild waves saying ?' a distant
water-wheel emits agonizing groans ; a man is
crying tomatoes in the lane beyond.

The great trunk of the stone pine which hides
from me the last of the houses forms a rustic
frame-work between this picture of miniature
town-life and another as dissimilar as can well be
imagined. Close by, on the other side of the rough
bark, a field of Indian corn, with its beautiful
plumes of blossom and long pendant leaves,
rustles gently in the breeze, which murmurs
through the branches of the pine, and breathes
softly on the green tops of the fruit-trees, making
Nature's own sweet melodies full of soothing har-
mony and rest. The ground slopes downward,
and through the grove of trees one beautiful
opening is filled by the deep blue waters of the
Gulf of Nicomedia, with its wall of solemn moun-
tains, and, still again beyond, a visionary outline
of the snow-capped summit of the Bithynian
Olympus.

94 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

I turn to the left. Here the vineyard has been
sadly neglected ; the proprietor, seized with a
mania for building, has allowed the precious vines,
that yielded the delicious ' tchaousch ' grape, to
remain for the most part uncared for ; they are
stunted and barren ; but the rich earth is not to be
cheated of its ornaments, and the field is bright with
lilac masses of the wild hollyhock amongst feathery
plumes of grass in flower. A Croat is watching
his flock of silky-haired goats, white and brown,
and mouse - coloured, and golden - hued ; they
browse round about, finding rare feeding on the
green shoots of the neglected vines.

A vineyard in Turkey does not mean simply a
tract of land devoted to the cultivation of the
vine; it is a pleasure-ground, where the vine cer-
tainly holds the principal place, but which is a
garden and orchard at the same time, full of many-
kinds of fruit-trees and flowering shrubs. Some
of the vineyards overhanging the Bosphorus are
celebrated for their beautiful roses, and for the
admirable style of their adornment, with kiosks
and fountains, shrubberies and winding paths kept
in perfect order.

This point of Moda Bournon, known as

SUMMER DAYS IN CHALCEDON, 1865 95

Tubini's vineyard, has no pretensions to landscape
gardening ; but it has one remarkable feature of
its own : the whole of the little promontory, as
well as a considerable inland tract of land, was
evidently — in some bygone age — the site of an
ancient cemetery ; the whole of the earth is
mixed with — indeed, almost composed of — broken
bits of funereal amphorae ; you have but to stoop
to pick up more fragments of such pottery than you
can carry. They are mostly of a coarse quality,
although we frequently find remnants of the smaller
black or coloured and highly-glazed vases which
the ancients placed inside the large funereal urns.
In one part of the cliff, where the earth had fallen
away, hundreds of small earthenware lamps were
found, placed in rows, as if in some storehouse of
a pottery.

Strolling along the upper pathway, that gives
the impression of having been an avenue of the
better class of tombs, we found the broken parts
of two larger lamps and some pieces of finely
painted vases, which, for colouring and delicacy
of design, remind one of the precious relics of
Etruscan art ; everywhere lie strewn about
large fragments of the coarse square bricks that

96 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

covered some of the graves, many of them slightly
coloured.

While we were groping at the foot of a fig-tree,
the Croat guardian of the vineyard came near to
inspect our proceedings, imagining, perhaps, that
we were interested in the tomatoes, whose bright
scarlet balls were peeping out all around from
under their green leaves ; but I quickly explained
that our object was 'Stones,' very, very old — quite
of the ancient time. He seemed much struck
with the novelty of the idea ; he settled his fez,
and said :

' Mashallah ! when we were digging up this land
we found a great many large pieces, and one big
jar.'

' Well, and what did you do with it ?'

' Oh ! it was of no use ; it had a hole, so
we broke it up and strewed the little bits all
about.'

I am not sufficiently learned in these matters to
pretend to fix any date to these remains. I can
only remark that they resemble precisely in form
and texture those which I brought away from the

site of ancient Pella, in Macedonia, and that M ,

my great ally in these groping expeditions, declares

SUMMER DATS IN CHALCEDON, 1865 97

them to be exactly similar to those which are quite
commonly found in the Troad.

On the opposite side of the bay, under a group
of magnificent plane-trees, is a holy spring, called
by the Greeks St. John's Well. The well itself
presents no remarkable feature, except that it has
been lately spoiled by the erection of an ugly
whitewashed chapel ; but a little higher up, on the
border of the road, you find a large mass of ancient
brick and stone work ; an old tree of great size,
growing from out the ruins, shows that it must
have lain there for a considerable period. A little
further along the winding, shady lane which is the
highroad towards Bagdad, you come upon the
remains of an ancient amphitheatre, or, perhaps,
of a vast cistern.

Such ruins are scattered all over the country.
Often in long rides about Constantinople, in the
wildest and most sequestered nooks, remains of
fountains and water-conduits are found, where for
miles along those swelling uplands there is now
no trace of present human care and forethought.
Scarce a tree throws its shade on those hills which
now blush with the soft pink of the flowering cistus,
now glow with the rich tints of broom, heath and

98 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

lavender. The sweet scent of wild thyme rises with
each touch of our horses' feet ; and mingling with
the hum of the summer insect, the tinkle of some
distant goat's bell alone reminds us that we are
not utterly solitary in this grand and beautiful
desolation. But formerly the scene must have
been widely different, when the fountains and the
water-pipes formed part of that complete system
of irrigation by means of which this now barren
wilderness bloomed like a garden in the days of
Byzantine splendour.

In the immediate neighbourhood of the city,
and over the slopes behind the villages of the
Bosphorus, the ground has been of late years
much more cultivated, chiefly in strawberries ;
but these are said to be almost entirely the result
of French enterprise and industry.

[99 ]

UNDER THE OAKS AT MERDIVENKEUY.

To spend a quiet day under the spreading oaks
of Merdivenkeuy, a village three or four miles
distant from Moda Bournon, was a project of long
standing. We accomplished it yesterday.

Our kind hostess, who is great in the commis-
sariat department on these occasions, had caused
sundry preparations to be made, in the form of
chicken-pie, rhubarb-tart, roast veal, etc. The
china and glass had been packed, neither the salt
nor the teapot omitted, and everything was in
readiness in good time for the arrival of the
equipage.

For greater convenience, and a little also for
the sake of the coiileur locale, an araba had been
ordered — not a painted pumpkin, or an orna-
mented pill-box, such as are commonly used,
the proper name of which is ' talika,' but the real
genuine article, a bullock-cart. These convey-

7—2

ioo OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

ances are mostly preferred for country parties,
where the roads are too rough for the strength of
horses, or the frail timbers of the talika ; they
are gaily decked and ornamented. The body of
our araba was much enlivened by paint and
gilding ; the wheels, and the poles to sustain the
awning, bright blue and red ; the awning itself of
a rich carmine-coloured woollen stuff, of native
manufacture, with a handsome gold fringe droop-
ing in front. Our two white oxen also were mag-
nificent, with their broad frontlets covered with
bits of looking-glass inserted in a thick embroi-
dery of beads and spangles, the whole trimmed
round with tufts of scarlet wool. Fixed to the
yoke in front, and curving gracefully backwards, two
long slender red poles supported strings of scarlet
tassels, which sway gracefully with every move-
ment. You get into the machine by a movable
wooden ladder of six steps, and as the vehicle is
not furnished with seats, the natives place mat-
tresses on the planks and crouch upon them ; in
our case cushions had been charitably provided,
and we were soon comfortably en route — four
ladies and a little child within the araba, two
Armenian servants perched somewhere about the

UNDER THE OAKS AT MERDIVENKEUY 101

shafts. Mr. E , a young English clergyman,

accompanied us on horseback.

Two serious, respectable-looking Turks guided
our little team, one directing their heads by ad-
monitory pulls of their long horns, the other
stimulating their solemn progress by suggestive
pokes from the long wand he carried.

The araba having no springs, we were, of course,
considerably shaken over the rough stones of the
village street ; but we soon turned aside on to a
somewhat smoother road, and crossing a corner of
the large meadow, came in sight of a house to
which is attached a tale of local manners and
customs. It is a bright, handsome, well-ordered
residence, in the midst of gardens and greenhouses,
fountains and orangeries, and adorned within,
they say, with paintings of some value brought
from Italy. Here flourishes a certain Don Andrea,
now a high dignitary of the Latin Church of Kadi-
keuy, a wealthy and important personage, who,
about four years ago, was known as Andrea Kali-
maki, a modest Greek tutor in the village ; and
on the site of the trim modern mansion stood a
pretty little rose-coloured cottage in a rambling,
neglected vineyard ; it belonged to a Turkish

102 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

family, too poor to cultivate their land properly,
so they offered it for sale ; and Kalimaki, who had
put by some savings, purchased the property
for a small sum. There was, however, a condition
attached to the sale : the Turks, who had held this
land from father to son for many generations, had
a family tradition that an immense treasure in
jewels and money had been in ancient times
buried away somewhere on the land at a great
depth ; they did not, perhaps, put implicit faith
in their tradition ; at any rate, they were too poor
and too inert to undertake the necessary researches;
so they sold their property with the understanding
that if the purchaser found anything of value within
it, the amount should be equally divided between
them.

Andrea took possession of his modest cottage,
and nothing particular transpired, until it was
remarked by the original proprietors that the
cottage was expanding into a mansion ; that the
tangled vineyard was blossoming into pleasure-
gardens ; and that the humble tutor had evidently
become a wealthy man. They claimed their half
of the recovered treasure — to which rumour
ascribed a fabulous amount — but the voice of the

UNDER THE OAKS AT MERDIVENKEUY 103

earthen pipkin is small when raised against the
golden vase. Don Andrea turned a deaf ear for
a time, until the matter was referred to Rome,
whither he was suddenly summoned. On his
return everyone seemed satisfied ; and Don
Andrea is now a cheery, hearty old gentleman,
enjoying his rare good fortune in peace.

After passing the whole length of what we
still call the cricket-field, our araba brought us
out upon the plain, at the foot of Kai'sch Dagh,
which rose majestically in front, with its beautiful
outline and heather-tinted sides. To the left of
the road a deep ravine marked the course of an
insignificant streamlet, beyond which the land was
rich with melon-fields and maize, both in blossom,
the bright yellow flowers of the melon forming a
beautiful contrast to the graceful feathery violet
bloom that drooped from the tall stalks of the
Indian corn. Beyond the melon beds, the thresh-
ing-floors were in full activity, the oxen literally,
as in Scripture phrase, ' treading out the corn ' —
one man urging them with the goad, while
another sat on the threshing-board to increase its
weight.

Our adventures in the short transit to Merdi-

104 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

venkeuy were of the mildest description, being
merely an occasional violent plunge of one wheel
into a mud-hole, eliciting a quickly stifled wail from
the little boy, and four screams, with an immediate
proposal on our part to alight and walk ; but the
old Turk, who seemed to understand perfectly
what he was about, would raise his finger with a
warning * soos ' (silence), and we contented our-
selves with clinging to the hoops of the awning,
or preparing to fall as softly as possible into each
other's laps.

Before reaching the village, we passed a frail-
looking wooden bridge, which had been thrown
over the crumbling remains of one which must
formerly have been of greater importance ; the
broken arch is of heavy masonry, and near it
are traces of ancient brickwork. A magnificent
plane-tree overshadowed the spot.

The place at which our araba halted, at the
entrance of the little hamlet, was charming. At
first one could imagine it a somewhat neglected
village green in England : spreading oaks of un-
usual size and beauty, intermingled here and there
with elm and plane trees, surrounded a grassy glade,
dotted over with snowy geese and an occasional

UNDER THE OAKS AT MERDIVENKEUY 105

cow or donkey ; the barn of the tchiflik, or farm,
looked homely enough, rising above the smaller
trees, but a second glance shows that we are in a
land many of whose customs have scarcely varied
for centuries ; all over the gentle slope of the hills
the toiling oxen of the threshing-floors, and the
primitive method of sifting the wheat, looked as
if winnowing-machines and the endless string of
modern farming improvements existed not.

While the servants are preparing our early
dinner at the foot of a stately oak, we wander
about, to look at the groups of Turkish women
who are crouched on carpets round their mid-day
meal. The summer life of these women is very
much of a picnic existence ; they frequently pack
up their carpets, their cushions, and their children,
and are conveyed to some green shade, or near
some sparkling fountain, where they make them-
selves perfectly at home for the day. If a baby is
of the party, they begin their temporary instal-
lation by knotting a shawl at the four corners,
and, swinging it between two trees, the little ham-
mock bed is, in two minutes, just the same as it
would be in the home, where large rings are fixed
into the woodwork of the rooms for this purpose.

106 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

There were some pretty girls among the groups
of women sitting on the green at Merdivenkeuy ;
two of them, in crimson satin feradjis, especially
attracted us. They had lowered their yashmaks
for convenience of eating, and we could see their
small delicate features, and calculate the amount
of paint which was in favour with each one. A
striking-looking Abyssinian slave, with an apology
for a yashmak floating over her head and shoulders,
warmed up the dishes over a little fire of dry sticks.
Another party of four ladies, more rigid in their
ideas of propriety, got into their carriage when-
ever they wished for a perfectly unveiled face
and a quiet smoke They strolled near us while
we dined, and seemed greatly to admire our
'spread,' but they were perfectly ladylike and
unobtrusive.

Not so an ancient dame in tatters of a Greek
cut and fashion : she hobbled towards us as soon
as we were seated, with her knitting in one hand
and a long wand in the other, and squatting down
at the foot of a neighbouring tree, fell hard to work,
but staring at us unremittingly all the while ; she
only interrupted her knitting to make occasional
onslaughts on the wild clogs, who, doubtless, judg-

UNDER THE OAKS AT MERDIVENKEUY 107

ing that she had intentions of poaching on their
rights to the remnants of the feast, were disposed
to treat her as an open enemy ; she beat them off,
however, and immediately subsided on to her heels,
knitting and staring as before. As soon as we
had finished, the old hag suggested that it would
be fitting that she also should dine ; her wish was
gratified, and we passed on, ignoring the subse-
quent hint of ' backshish.'

The parties of Turkish women whom we had
found on the ground on our arrival left early and
drove off to end the day at Fanaraki, where there
is a fashionable native promenade on Fridays ; but
later in the afternoon two more talikas drove up
and deposited their freights, consisting of three
very young women and a minute baby. They
were accompanied by two men, which is so un-
usual a proceeding, and one so contrary to Mus-
sulman ideas of propriety, that one could but
conclude that they were persons of a very inferior
station. They were very quiet and well-behaved,
however, and the baby was a curiosity ; swathed
in a small shawl, with its tiny feet and hands pro-
jecting, it looked like a good-sized chrysalis, as
one of the young men — the father, probably—

io8 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

danced and caressed the little bundle. He ap-
peared very proud of it, and brought it to us to
be admired. The man was dressed as a touloum-
badji, or fireman, with immensely baggy trousers
and tight legs, and as for some reason he had
turned his peaked hood over his head, the whole
outline was most comical. The mother, we found,
was the youngest-looking of the group — a pretty
little pale thing about fourteen years old. We
left her nursing the little one as we turned to
leave, and looking round soon afterwards, saw her
cherry-coloured satin cloak flying gaily in the wind
on the crest of the hill, while she was being whirled
round with one of her companions on the threshing-
board.

We left the peaceful shades of Merdivenkeuy
very reluctantly, and climbing once more into our
ornate but springless araba, progressed only too
quickly homewards, for every moment deepened
the long shadows on the breezy common that led
towards Kadikeuy. Stamboul, in the soft distance,
was putting on its opal-tinted veil, while in the clear
evening sky above us one feathery cloud, touched
here and there with gold, had taken the form of
an angel with outspread wings, holding towards

UNDER THE OAKS AT MERDIVENKEUY 109

the distant city a shadowy crown or garland,
seeming an emblem of rest and peace.

An emblem of rest and peace ? Alas ! since
those few words were written the very darkness of
the grave has shrouded that doomed city. The
fearful sickness — cholera — brought in the first
instance by the scared Egyptians flying in wild
terror from the scourge at Alexandria, has fallen
on Constantinople with a violence which the utmost
efforts of the Government have been unable to
avert. To arrest the spread of the epidemic by
quarantine regulations would appear to be im-
possible. The awe-stricken people fled in blind
confusion : some to die by hundreds on the
crowded boats which carried their reeking freight
towards distant coasts, where already the strange,
mysterious malady, spreading with giant strides,
grimly awaited the few survivors ; others, to
strew the high-roads into the interior with the
corpses of the hapless creatures who sank and
died where they fell, happy if some scanty tree or
barren rock shielded their last agonies from the
piercing rays of the sickening sun.

I io OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Now, as I write, the fatal visitation has been
mercifully permitted to diminish its ravages ; how
many have been swept away by it — in Stamboul
especially — will never be ascertained, as the
official returns are supposed to give less than
one-third of the real number of deaths. It is
known that in one day, of which the published
number was little over 300, 700 victims to cholera
were carried for interment through the Adrianople
Gate — one only of the numerous gates that lead
from the city to the neighbouring cemetery. On
another day sixty imams were borne to their last
resting-place by the same road ; and during the
worst period of the sickness 2,000 a day is sup-
posed to be within the number of deaths in Stam-
boul and the villages of the Bosphorus ; but the
darkest secrets of this time of terror will never
be revealed on earth. Numbers, they say, found
a hasty, even a living, grave in the silent waters
of the Sea of Marmora, thrown over on the first
sign of illness from fishing-boats and from the
great bazaar caiques, which ply between St. Stefano
and the Capital. I was told by an inhabitant of
the former place that of one boat-load of twenty-
seven persons which left there, six or seven only

UNDER THE OAKS AT MERDIVENKEUY in

reached the landing-place ; and, allowing largely
for the exaggerations of fear, I must believe, from
what I know of the degree of abject terror which
had seized the native population, with their general
carelessness of human life, that there was much
truth in these reports.

Our village of Kadikeuy, that escaped a former
visitation of cholera, has been on this occasion
heavily afflicted, twenty a day being carried off
from the small population during the worst period.
Sometimes in the night-time unwonted footsteps
and the hushed voices of men passed the house
in the direction of the landing-place. We did not
inquire why the stillness of the dark hours was thus
broken, but we knew afterwards that the sick and
the dead were being carried to the boats which
conveyed the former to the hospital, the latter —
we knew not whither.

The disease declared itself at first in the arsenal,
and spread rapidly to the surrounding localities of
Haskeuy and Kassim Pasha, where it carried off
great numbers of the low Jewish population ; to bad
drainage and the poor way of living of the unhappy
Jews was mainly due the spread of infection, but
they increased the danger by eating the unwhole-

ii2 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

some vegetables which had been thrown away into
the Golden Horn by order of the authorities.

The English employed in the arsenal work-
shops, many of whom live at Haskeuy, remained
stoutly at their posts when all the native work-
men had fled in terror ; at first they suffered
slightly, but when the Government found it
necessary to relieve the overcrowded cemeteries
of Stamboul by sending the bodies to their un-
coffined graves on the hill of the Ocmeidan, above
the village, then the English sickened and died.
Some — too many, I fear — paid in that awful
moment the penalty of intemperance, but there
were good and gentle women among them who
remained in the infected neighbourhood rather
than increase the panic by their flight. One, the
wife of a principal engineer, said to a friend of
ours : ' My husband wishes me to leave Haskeuy,
and I should like to go ; but I think it would dis-
courage the people, so I prefer to remain here.'
She remained ; the next day she sickened, and on
the following afternoon it was Mr. K- -'s sad
duty to read the burial service over her in the
English cemetery of Ferikeuy.

The unhappy Turks, in the height of the

UNDER THE OAKS AT MERDIVENKEUY 113

calamity, caused processions of imams to traverse
the streets of the city and of the suburbs at night,
barefoot, crying to the Almighty to have pity on
the plague-stricken people ; they even prayed
some Christian communities to join them in these
litanies. I do not know whether the request was
complied with. I cannot think with those who
ridicule this movement, and ask what has
become of the stoicism of Moslem ' Khismet.' I
sympathize rather with the gentleman who raised
his hat as the procession passed, and was pleased
to see the satisfaction which this slight mark of
good feeling appeared to afford them. Christian
and Moslem, children of one Heavenly Father,
suffering under one common calamity, should we
not together ' cry unto the Lord in our trouble ' ?

Our happy summer days are clouded with tears.
Our little household — thank God for it! — has
passed unharmed through this fearful time of
sickness; and this safety I attribute greatly — under
Providence — to the healthy, cheerful, rational
tone of our friend's home. While the public
offices were closed, the Exchange shut up, and

8

ii4 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

the deserted streets of Galata testified to the
extent of the panic, our English gentlemen have
continued to go bravely to their daily avocations,
in spite of the harrowing sights and tales of woe
which met them there ; they did not speak of
them on their return, but we surmised much of
the truth ; and, without giving way to overpower-
ing fear, we never for one moment altogether
forgot the solemn dispensation which over-
shadowed us, although our daily course of
employment remained unchanged.

The cloud that has fallen over us, the sadness
of all around, has dimmed the brightness of the
glorious landscape ; our pleasant plans and pro-
jects have faded away, and yet ! — perhaps — one
day we may begin to speak of them again.
Yesterday they said that the snow-white gulls
have returned ; they were seen in myriads,
circling in their flight back to the shores of the
Bosphorus, and people now remember that during
the late time of sickness all birds had been
unaccountably absent ; that the storks had taken
flight a month before their usual time, as if the

UNDER THE OAKS AT MERDIVENKEUY 115

mysterious taint in the atmosphere — unfelt by
man's coarser senses — were perceptible to the
delicate instincts of animal life ; but the snowy
birds have come once more, and the soft summer
of the later season may yet bring to those who
have been mercifully spared many a calm and
happy day in bright Chalcedon.

8—2

GENERAL VIEW OF BROUSSA, 1866.

A BRIGHT morning in May ; through the open
windows of the little Hotel Loschi the soft
breeze reaches us direct from the mountains on
the opposite side of the richly-cultivated plain,
stirring with a gentle murmur the topmost
branches of the trees that grow far beneath the
high rocky terrace on which the hotel stands.
There is a sweet trilling of birds' voices ; no other
sound to break the peaceful calm, until from the
leafy depth arises a soft, low, solemn chant ; it
rises and falls, and is answered at intervals by a
sort of chorus. We look beneath, at the point
where a lofty poplar and a wide-spreading Oriental
plane join their deep shadows to that of a group
of walnut - trees on the opposite side of the
winding road, where a narrow, irregular lane
leads off in the direction of Mondania and the
shore of the gulf. This point is a rural trysting-

GENERAL VIEW OF BROUSSA, 1866 117

place — of meeting and of parting — where friends
wait to welcome the coming guest, and where
travellers leaving Broussa bid farewell to those
who have accompanied them thus far on their
road.

Such trysting spots, called in Turkish * airylik
mahalessi ' (the place of parting), are frequently
met with in the East, on the outskirts of towns.
Sometimes it consists of a small building, looking
like an empty ' turbeh ;' I have seen such a one
outside Canea in Crete ; sometimes it is a wayside
fountain, as near Scutari, where it is called
' airylik tcheshmessi ;' sometimes, as here at
Broussa, only an ancient, spreading, shade-giving
tree at a point where two roads meet.

The low, sad chant that has drawn us to the
window rises from a party of well-dressed people
on foot, slowly winding their way towards the
walnut shade ; there are led horses, evidently pre-
pared for a journey, new saddles and padded
cushions strapped on, the harness and everything
connected with it also new.

Arrived at the trysting-place, the party of
friends stops and forms a circle round an aged
man, who for awhile takes up the sad, wailing

n8 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

dirge ; the friends reply by a faint chorus ; some
cheer feebly, and when all sinks into silence, they
press forward to kiss the old man's hand ; some
take him in their arms and embrace him very
tenderly, then, turning away, press their hands
across their eyes. It was a very solemn and
touching leave-taking, and the venerable patriarch,
helped up upon his newly-saddled horse, and
followed by only one or two friends or attendants,
passed slowly away into the leafy shadow of the
wood, and was lost to sight.

We ask the meaning of this sad ceremony.
The aged traveller is a Jewish hadji going to
Jerusalem to end his days, and to be laid to rest
in that sacred earth. He has made much money
in the course of his long career, and now, feeling
that life is drawing to its close, leaves all his
substance to his son, who will send him for the
remainder of his life a sum barely sufficient for
the simplest necessaries of existence ; he goes far
from family and friends, alone, solitary, to die in
the sacred land of his forefathers.

A few days later other hadjis create a sensa-
tion in the place ; it is of joy this time, not of
sorrow, and forms a striking contrast to the sad

GENERAL VIEW OF BROUSSA, 1866 119

little scene so lately witnessed. During breakfast
a sound of firing rises from the wooded glade,
and at the same time an unusual clatter on the
stony road before the house draws us once more
to the window. A brilliant procession of mounted
zeibeks is passing along in a shambling, irregular
manner. Every colour of the rainbow flashes
from their gay dresses and from their glittering
belt of weapons ; others are stationed at the
trysting-place and along the road, firing salutes ;
there is great excitement ; the inhabitants collect
in groups, most of them resting placidly on their
heels — a favourite attitude of repose in this
country — and the mounted zeibeks ride forward
across the little wooden bridge to meet the
pilgrims returning from Mecca.

At length these hadjis emerge from the arch
of foliage, three or four of them mounted on
donkeys and accompanied by many friends. A
rather shabby man leads the procession ; they all
look dusty and travel-stained ; some of the party
have brilliant Syrian haiks thrown over the head.

In the shadow of the great walnut-tree an imam
and a few persons are waiting ; the little cavalcade
stops ; the imam advances and embraces the

120 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

hadjis. At that moment a veiled woman, who
has patiently remained standing for a considerable
time, presses forward, and hands up her child to
one of the pilgrims, who, with no apparent greeting
to the mother, takes the little one before him on
the saddle ; the whole party wind out of the wood,
turning round by the great flour-mill, and so on
into the town.

Returning through Broussa that same afternoon,
we found crowds of people collected in the
principal roadway, expecting the arrival of more
pilgrims. Numbers of veiled women were seated
on the edge of the pathway, and many groups
had taken up their station in the road beneath.
One small party was strikingly picturesque ; two
of the men — one old, the other in the prime of
life — wore the 'cloak of honour,' made of a thick,
dark stuff of camel's hair, with a rich pattern in
gold, passing in broad stripes over the shoulders,
woven into it. The old man, whose countenance
was of the grand calm type often seen in Broussa,
but more rarely met with in Constantinople, was
crowned by a magnificent turban enriched with
gold thread. The younger hadji, a strikingly
handsome man and very dark, wore with his cloak

GENERAL VIEW OF BROUSSA, 1866 121

of honour a brilliant Syrian kefyieh ; he held on
his knee a lovely little blue-eyed girl, her fair
hair plaited with long silver threads ; they were
all drinking coffee and talking very cheerfully
while waiting the return of another pilgrim. We
met him a few minutes afterwards, escorted by
rather an imposing cavalcade. First cavasses and
zabtiehs on foot, then a troup of mounted zeibeks,
brilliantly dressed, and lastly a venerable old
gentleman in a ponderous cloak of honour; he
wore enormous spectacles. One or two aged
men, who had been straining their eyes to discern
the approach of their long-lost friend, press for-
ward as he comes slowly into sight ; they kiss
him, pat him on the back, and seem much affected;
it was indeed very touching to see the loving
welcome given to one who had come back in
health and safety from an undertaking from which
so many never return.

We remarked afterwards that sheep had been
sacrificed on the threshold of several dwellings in
Broussa, in token of thanksgiving for the safe
return of the master or of one of the family ; the
meat on these occasions is principally given to
the poor.

( 122

THE KEBAB SHOP.

OUR road lay through the bazaars, which are not
remarkable in any way, unless for the abundant
fountains of clear water that you find at every
turn. It began to rain heavily, and we were
glad to seek shelter and rest in a kebab shop, not
sorry to turn the time also to account in the
matter of refreshment ; so we boldly make our
way up some exceedingly narrow ladder-like
stairs on to a gallery, where we had perceived
from below some straw stools — in Levantine
language * skemle ' — and, drawing them as near as
possible to the wooden railing, we gain a bird's-
eye view of the cook's shop and of the process of
kebab-cooking in the most genuine and orthodox
manner. We see the whole business from the
very beginning, short of the slaughter of the poor
animal who furnishes the feast. There, in the very
centre of the establishment, beside a fountain of

THE KEBAB SHOP 123

water trembling in a white marble basin, hangs
the carcase which has just been operated upon
for our benefit.

The master of the kebab shop wears an
embroidered turban, a red scarf of many folds,
and a striped apron tightly fastened round him ;
he presides at the shop counter, on which are some
platters and covered metal bowls, with a large
dish displaying a row of kebabs ready prepared
for roasting ; further on, an attendant is serving a
customer in the street, and still further back
another is seated on the counter watching a man
who is washing his hands at the fountain ; a
zeibek, wearing a monstrous turban and a for-
midable arsenal of arms in his belt, is waiting,
seated beside a small round table ; a lounging boy
gazes idly down from the little wooden gallery.

The shop is quite open on one side to the
street, and there is an uninterrupted view of the
variegated crowd filling up the narrow way : a
woman on horseback with a baby in one of the
panniers ; a man in a green cloak and large white
turban ; a negro in a yellow cloak, the peaked
hood raised. An endless variety of forms and
colours passes slowly, until the jangle of a well-

124 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

known bell forces the crowd to leave a passage
in the centre for a string of camels with their
noiseless footfall, slow progress, and unutterably
disdainful and supercilious expression ; they have
come from the interior, laden, perhaps, with
chrome earth, or with the valuable lumps of
meerschaum from Eski Scheir. It is a long
train, but they have at length passed, and now
we see a sauton holding out his begging dish ;
he is stripped to the waist to allow of the due
display of the evidence of his sanctity ; two iron
discs are woven into the skin of one arm near
the shoulder ; a skewer is larded through each
temple ; another through the mouth and cheek ;
his hair is long, wild and matted, and he thrusts
forward his canoe-shaped metal dish with a fierce,
defiant gesture ; he is a repulsive object, and we
gladly turn our attention to the cook's depart-
ment that more immediately concerns us.

The process of cooking keba£>s is by no means
a simple question of broiling little pieces of
mutton ; they must be quite artistically arranged.
The pieces of meat must have, if possible, a tiny
portion of fat to each mouthful ; they are strung,
carefully graduated in size, on iron skewers, the

THE KEBAB SHOP

125

smallest at the bottom, and the summit crowned
by a large piece of the fat tail of the Karamanian
sheep, so that a gentle cascade of grease — a
simple method of basting — preserves the meat
from scorching ; eight to ten pieces of meat form
a skewerful.

Our turbaned cook takes a set of prepared
skewers from an attendant, lifts the door of an
oven that seems to be in the shop counter, hangs
them somewhere in the glowing cavity, claps
down the cover, and waits. When he judges
that the meat is nearly cooked, some flaps of un-
leavened bread are dabbed on to the hot sides till
slightly browned, then whipped out, and rapidly
cut into strips on a large dish ; the skewers are
raised, and the little bits of rich brown meat shred
down on the bread, peppered, salted, sprinkled
with herbs, and served quite hot ; the natives add
a ladleful of grease — which we decline.

[ 126]

BROUSSA IN 1886.

A TOURIST gazing from the heights of Pera upon
the purple mountains that border the Gulf of
Nicomedia, sees, above and beyond them, a range
of snow-clad summits, pale in the morning light,
or touched by the golden rays of sunset ; he is
told that at the foot of those lofty peaks lies
Broussa — the cradle of the Ottoman race — as
famous for the beauty of its scenery as for the
healing virtues of its mineral springs ; and the
energetic tourist rushes thither, to ' do ' the place
in one clear day, arriving on Tuesday evening,
and leaving at daybreak on the Thursday ; but
the real traveller, the artist, the lover of old-
world legends, will contrive a longer sojourn at
one of the many comfortable hotels that have
sprung up within the last few years, and will be
richly repaid for the lengthened stay amidst these
scenes of sylvan beauty by a store of 'sunny

BROUSSA IN 1886 127

memories ; of leafy groves and grassy dells, of
rippling brooks and wayside fountains, of cool,
soft shade and rich luxuriance of glowing
blossoms, the boundless vista of the broad, culti-
vated plain, or of the sterner features of this
enchanting spot, the cloud-capped summits and
dark ravines, the giant crags, the torrent rushing
through a wilderness of ferns and tangled creepers.
Broussa, within an easy summer-day's journey
of Constantinople, has been, until lately, little
visited, owing to the difficulties of the way and
the want of hotels ; at the present time we find
comfortable carriages, a smooth road, and hotels
that increase in number with each returning
season. The place possesses also attractions of
an infinitely more Oriental type and character
than can now be found at Constantinople. The
stately Asiatic Osmanli, so rarely seen on the
European shore, sits under the spreading plane-
trees and smokes his * tchibouk' in immovable tran-
quillity, scarcely raising his eyes to notice the
restless ' Frank ' who darkens his sunshine for a
moment by his eager progress ; while his infant
grandson, in a miniature turban and largely-
developed shawl girdle, looks as far behind the

128 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

social impetus of the nineteenth century as his
venerable grandsire. Wild picturesque peasants
from the interior conduct long strings of camels
laden with the raw produce of those remote dis-
tricts ; the very plants by the wayside indicate a
semi-tropical region.

Let us look down from the castle hill, the site
of the ancient Prusa, founded, it is said, by
Hannibal, and later the residence of the younger
Pliny, pro-Consul of Bithynia under Trajan ; the
view from this point is beautiful beyond description.
The snowy crest of Olympus is hidden from
view, but behind and far away on either side, the
grand summits of the lower range rise gray, or
blue, or rose-coloured, according to the varying
effects of passing shadows, from out a mass of the
most luxuriant foliage ; above, dark forests of
pine and fir tree, swelling, as they descend, into
rich waves of chestnut, oak and beech, with many
a solemn - hued cypress steadying the heaving
flow of softened green ; midway down the slopes
of the mountain, a tiny minaret here and there,
or a cluster of picturesque, irregular buildings,
mark some teke or the tomb of a saint, some
shrine more or less venerated ; then behind the

BROUSSA IN 1886 129

grassy plateau of Bounar Bashi, embosomed in
the hanging groves, you mark three larger tekes,
one a pale-rose colour, another yellow, the third
white. Further on, the shrine of Said Nazir
clings to the roots of a gigantic cypress ; beyond,
and again higher up the mountain, two rocky
spurs are crested by the tombs of Abdal Murad
and Abdal Musa, companions of Orkhan in his
conquest of the city.

To the extreme west the view is lost in a
flood of golden light sweeping across the wooded
heights above the baths of Tchekirghe, catching a
minaret, a cypress, or the gilded crescent of a
mosque in its descent, till it strikes a spark of
vivid green from the tomb of Fatma Sultana, and,
softening as it reaches the light haze over the
park-like plain, ripples away in little silver points
along the winding course of the Niloufar.

Below the castle hill spreads out the mass of
the city : you look straight down into the courts
of old caravanserais and schools, and imarets
and mosques, and out of the confused mingling of
gray and red tints rises the majestic Olou
Djami, with its nineteen domes and four gigantic
minarets. The houses are rather densely packed

9

1 30 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

about the bazaars, but on the further side of the
ravine gardens bloom and extend their foliage
around the celebrated Yeshil Djami. Far off, and
beyond the city, a golden gleam comes from the
beautiful mosque and tomb of Emir Sultan ; it
contrasts strangely with a ruined monument that
arrests the eye as it wanders downwards to the
plain. Gray, gaunt, and solitary, it stands on a
slight rise beyond the foot of the mountain ; away
from the life of the city, from the smiling gardens,
from the waving forests, it crowns the only dreary
spot in all this wealth of beauty, and seems to tell
silently its tale — the mosque of the celebrated
Bajazet, begun .by him in his days of barbaric
splendour on a scale of corresponding magnifi-
cence, incompletely finished by his son after the
country had been ruined by Tamerlane, and was
then ravaged by civil war. Beyond this lonely
mosque the scene brightens once more ; there are
wide patches of mulberry gardens and vineyards,
with villages and hamlets dotting the fertile plain,
until it rises into the bolder forms of the mountain
range (the Arganthonios), and melts into the
blue distance towards Yenisheir, and the interior
of Asia Minor.

BROUSSA IN 1896.

THE general aspect of Broussa in the present
year (1896) remains, with some exceptions, such
as the previous slight sketch has described it ten
years earlier. In that interval, however, the rail-
way from Mondania has been opened ; a wide
road now leads from the city to the iron baths
of Tchekirghe, giving facility for a good service
of carriages, while it has destroyed an exquisitely
beautiful, though almost impracticable, bowery lane.
Other roads cut ruthless, if useful, straight lines
through groves whose sylvan beauty could scarcely
be surpassed ; a new hospital shows white and
glaring upon the summit of the castle hill, where
formerly a rambling wooden tenement marked the
site of a summer palace of Sultan Murad II., and
possibly also the site of ' my apartments in Prusa,'
in which Pliny wrote many of his letters to his
imperial master, Trajan.

9—2

132 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Beyond the city a large establishment — a
college for the improvement and encouragement
of the silk rearing — with several detached villas,
now animate the wild and beautiful upland slopes
and crags that overhang the deep ravine, the
Gheik Dere, the gorge beside which the rough
mule-track leads upwards towards the summit of
Olympus ; but on the further side of the ravine
a despairingly straight and stony carriage-road
harshly invades those sylvan solitudes, and one
feels painfully convinced that the essentially
Oriental character of the place must inevitably
fade before the inexorable march of progress,
pioneered and opened out by steam and rail.

SURIDJI, BROUSSA.

To face p. 132.

[ 133 J

IN MACEDONIA.

SOME of the following notes of travel in Mace-
donia have already appeared in print, although so
long since that few indeed will recall them. The
only excuse for their repetition may be found in the
slight sketches which, trivial in themselves, are
historically interesting, and may probably be the
only similar records existing of the birthplace of
Alexander the Great and of his Macedonian capital.
The new line of railway between Salonica and
Monastir leads away from the old Roman road,
the Via Egnatia, and cannot approach the beauti-
ful Lake of Ochrida, and the ancient monastery of
St. Naum, where Christianity was first brought to
the Bulgarians.

[ 134]

CA VALLA.

I N the course of the afternoon we anchored before
Cavalla — that old Neapolis where St. Paul landed
on his way from Troas to Philippi and Thessa-
lonica.

The aspect of the town is very striking, standing
as it does principally on a projecting mass of rock,
which rises abruptly from the sea. Half-way up,
a long range of white buildings, with colonnades,
cupolas, and minarets, is the Turkish college,
founded by Mehemet Ali of Egypt, who was a
native of this place. On the summit of the peak
stands the fortress, with its round and square
towers ; a strong wall, apparently Saracenic, sur-
rounds the town, and a short distance in the back-
ground a fine aqueduct of Roman work, still in
good preservation, connects Cavalla with the
neighbouring mountains.

The whole of this range, as seen from a window

<<

CAVALLA 135

of the British Vice-Consulate, is extremely wild
and barren : masses of granite, partly overgrown
with low shrubs ; here and there a stunted tree ;
two solitary watch-towers ; the crumbling remains
of an old Roman wall. It would seem that much
in that stern landscape remains unchanged since the
day when the holy Apostle of the Gentiles, staff in
hand, commenced his toilsome ascent of that bleak
mountain ridge, along the celebrated Roman road,
the Via Egnatia, on his way to Philippi. On
one part of this ridge the camp of Brutus and
Cassius is supposed to have been planted before
the battle of Philippi (B.C. 42), which terminated
so fatally for both.

I sat long gazing on that ancient roadway. It
follows the graceful curve of the bay beyond the
principal mosque, with its snow-white minaret and
giant plane-tree, then turns to climb the rocky
height ; winding round the first spur of the moun-
tain, it disappears ; more faintly and higher up, on the
next projecting mass, you trace it again, irregular
and broken : it plunges into a deep chasm and is
lost. No ; there is a silver thread melting in the
vapoury haze of that distant peak, and as the eye
strives to follow that celebrated mountain track,

136 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

imagination flies back to the two great events with
which, in those long past centuries, this road to
Philippi is for ever associated.

The mosque and the minaret — are not. Along
that barren roadway a glittering troop of iron-
clad soldiers bear aloft the proud eagle of Rome,
sparkling and flashing in the bright sunlight as
they march, secure of conquest, towards their camp
on the high mountain ridge ; they are the stern
followers of yet sterner leaders, and their struggle
is for the empire of the world. A few days, and
that struggle which has shaken civilization to its
centre has ceased, hushed in the heaving battle-
field beyond that mountain-pass. . . .

A century has nearly elapsed. Again a little
band pursue their toilsome way over the rough
stones, and begin to ascend the rock-bound path ;
they are humble men in humble garments from
the opposite shores of Asia ; they carry no glitter-
ing eagle, no 4 weapon made with hands, ' yet are
they combatants, and, more, they are conquerors
in the name of their Almighty Master.

The leader of this little band carries a traveller's
staff to assist his weary feet as he toils higher and
yet higher upwards ; but the seal of the Christian

CA VALLA 137

martyr is on his thoughtful brow, and he bears to
benighted Europe a gentle, yet unquenchable
light. The cry from darkened Macedonia has
mysteriously reached him on the far-off coast of
Troas, and he hastens to bear to the Gentile
world that heavenly flame, the all - conquering
light of the Gospel.

The visionary fancy has passed away ; the
golden sunset throws long shadows far over the
calm ripples of the blue ^Egean Sea ; in the faint,
vapoury distance a towering, majestic form — the
lofty marble crest of Athos, the Holy Mountain-
gleams with the last touches of golden glory ;
while in the foreground Thasos, richly wooded to
the water's edge, sends dark reflections far down
into the liquid mirror, and loads the soft evening
breeze with the aromatic perfume of its clustering
pines.

[ 138]

PELL A.

HAVING spent several weeks at Salonica, a guest
of our kind friends, Mr. and Mrs. C , I joy-
fully accepted their invitation to go on with them
to Monastir, to which place Mr. C— — had lately
been appointed Consul.

We formed a numerous and very motley
cavalcade as we left the city by the Vardar Gate.
In addition to our own family, a missionary and
his wife and little girl were taking advantage of
the escort ; there were the usual consular cavasses,
servants, and miscellaneous attendants on horses
and baggage, and the finishing touch of brilliancy
was given by the guard of honour sent by the
Pasha — wild-looking Albanians, dressed in bright
colours, and bristling with weapons.

The first night was passed at Valmathes, a
small village on the great plain, sometimes called
the Plain of Vardar, stretching from the gates of

PELL A 139

Salonica to the foot of the mountain range that
forms its western boundary. It is a dreary, arid,
sandy level ; for many miles around, the country
is absolutely treeless, and the glaring rays of the
sun, intensified by the glittering quality of the
soil, causes the heat thrown up from the ground
to be as oppressive as that so fiercely darting on
us from above.

In the morning of the second day of our
journey we reached the little khan of Pella,
a desolate roadside caravansery, near a large
fountain ; it possessed, however, the blessing of a
few trees, which spread their shade over a hundred
feet or so of scanty grass, beside a tiny stream
of running water — altogether a combination of
luxuries impossible to resist ; so the horses were
unloaded, carpets and cushions spread in the
shade beside the little rill, a picnic luncheon laid
out before us, and — we rested. Fully to appreciate
the happiness of shade and rest, one must know
something of the Vardar plain in the month of
August.

Few persons ever stop at Pella ; the part of
the road between Salonica and Yenidjeh is the
most fatiguing, as it is also the longest stage of

140 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

the journey to Monastir, and that, perhaps, is the
reason why so little search seems hitherto to have
been made for remains of the old Macedonian
city. Most travellers, anxious to push forward
towards their shelter for the night, content them-
selves with a glance at the old wall on the hill to
the right, and a draught of the clear water of the
fountain below ; nothing more meets the notice
of a casual observer, but it is probable that
anyone having time and means to excavate and
examine the ground in the little village of
Neokhori, at a short distance from the fountain,
which has been identified with a portion of
ancient Pella, would be rewarded for his trouble.

Mr. C rode up to Neokhori and found some

subterranean sculptured columns, but was not able
to examine further. Colonel Leake, in his work
on * Northern Greece,' speaks of the fountain as
' a copious source which is received into a square
reservoir of masonry, and flows out of it in a
stream to the marsh. This source is called by
the Bulgarians " Pel." As the ancient cities of
Greece often derived their names from a river or
fountain, the same may have occurred in the
instance of the celebrated capital of Philip and

PELL A 141

his successors, which the description of Livy,
compared with the tumuli and other ancient
remains, clearly shows to have stood in this
situation. It would seem as if the name of Pella
survived even the ruins of the city, and had
reverted to the fountain to which it was originally
attached.'

I went up the hill through a stubbly field to
examine the remains of masonry called the ruins
of the palace of Philip. It is a crumbling bit of
wall of rough stones put together with mortar,
and to my unlearned eye it did not bear the
stamp of so great antiquity. The other remains,
at the foot of the hill, have a more genuine look ;
the reservoir into which the waters of the source
are collected, as well as the large fountain beneath
(by the side of the road and opposite to the
khan), are constructed of solid square blocks of
stone, certainly of ancient date ; they are quite
out of proportion to the present insignificance of
the modern halting-place.*

Coins are found in great abundance in all the
lands around, as well as pottery and inscribed

* Rev. H. Tozea, in 'The Highlands of Turkey,' calls this 'a
ruined mass of Roman masonry.'

142 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

stones. Quite recently the trenches cut on either
side of the new road, following the direction of
the ancient roadway, have brought to light
specimens of antique pottery and what appears
to have been the solid pavement of the once
populous city. Pella does not seem, however, to
have been very extensive as the capital of a
kingdom ; it is supposed by one author to have
reckoned three miles in circumference, though it is
called at the same time a ' splendid city ' ! Philip
was the first to make of it a place of importance.

Several large tumuli may be remarked in the
surrounding country, two of them very near to the
little village ; they are supposed by Colonel Leake
to be tombs of some of the noble families of
Macedonia.

We remained for several hours at the khan of
Pella, which, like most buildings of the sort, is a
rambling tenement round a square courtyard, the
ground-floor devoted to the stabling, the floor
above, composed of little cell-like chambers,
opening on a broad wooden balcony.

We did not enter the building on this occasion,
but in the following year, once more on the way
towards Monastir, we, my brother and myself,

PELL A 143

escorted and guarded by the head cavass of the
British Consulate, overtaken by a violent storm
as we drew near to this spot, were obliged to
take refuge and pass the night at this desolate
khan of Pella ; the accommodation is such as is
usually to be found in these parts, and deserves a
few words of description.

It is nearly dark as, drenched with rain, weary
and hungry, we stop at the gateway and summon
the khandji or guardian of this splendid house of
entertainment. After some delay he appears in
a ragged caftan and tattered sheepskin cloak.
Alarmed, probably, at the appearance of foreigners,
he declares that there are no rooms, that the
staircase is broken down, that it is quite im-
possible to receive us. We insist. Is there not
a ladder ? It must be managed, for we are going
to stay.

The old bundle of sheepskins totters off and
eventually brings a small ladder, which proves on
trial to be too short to reach the top of the
crumbling wall, the first plateau of the ascent ;
there is a struggle, a gymnastic effort, a dread
lest the large stone should .give way under your
grasp, and you find yourself kneeling on the

144 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

summit ; but there is a further elevation to be
attained — a wooden platform still higher up. You
seize a beam on the right, a friendly hand grasps
your left shoulder, and you are landed, but not yet
in safety ; a yawning chasm at your feet, in the
rotten flooring of the gallery, warns you to look
carefully to every step.

The khandji, with a tiny brush, is raising a
cloud of dust in a small cell close by — he is
making your room comfortable ; the floor and
the walls of this luxurious chamber are of mud ;
there is an unglazed window, a fireplace, and no
ceiling ; through the black rafters overhead you
catch glimpses of the starlit heavens, for the
storm has cleared off. The khandji brings in a
tattered mat, an earthen pitcher of water, a
lighted brazier of charcoal is hoisted with con-
siderable difficulty up the wall, on to the platform
outside your door, and you are left alone to your
own devices.

Now, if you are experienced, you will know
that there is much resource in the flat top of a
small travelling-bag, that the pile of cloaks makes
a comfortable seat, and that an egg stands
majestically in the scooped out hollow of a piece

PELLA 145

of bread. You have brought with you provisions
from the last town, including tea, sugar, and a
spirit-lamp. The khandji will furnish you with
coffee, and perhaps some milk ; but if he should
offer to sell you a salad ready dressed, avoid it ;
the lamp and the lettuce have an equal interest in
the contents of the oil-can.

I found that a thin mattress spread on the
earthen floor has at least the advantage of not
being rickety, and I may have slept for some
hours, when I awoke with a start : a cat rushing
through the open window — which in default of
glass had not even a shutter — had thrown down
the cloak fastened against the opening, so that I
remained gazing out into the moonlight upon the
ancient fountain and the ruin on the hill above ;
swallows were flying in and out, building their
nests and quarrelling, and a large jackdaw, with
his head on one side, gravely contemplated me
from the railing of the gallery in front.

The next day we thought ourselves happy in
having met with no other interruption, when we
learnt that it is considered very unsafe to stop at
Pella : the neighbouring village is a nest of
brigands.

10

146

VODENA.

THE daylight is fading as we draw near to the
foot of the mountain. For the last few miles the
country had become slightly undulating ; clumps
of trees began to appear, at first few and far be-
tween, then in thick masses of foliage, until, as
we passed carefully along the uneven remains of
the old Via Egnatia, we reached a firm, broad
road winding through a perfect garden of the
richest cultivation ; through orchards, vineyards,
fields of Indian corn, and groves of mulberry-
trees ; here and there stately poplars, shooting up
from the rounded clumps of walnut, chestnut,
beech and oak, remind us that we have taken
leave of the cypress, and that, fn its stead, the
poplar becomes more and more common as you
approach the frontiers of Albania.

We are bound for Vodena, a considerable town
that occupies the site of ^gea or Edessa, once

VODENA 147

the capital of Macedonia and the home of Alex-
ander the Great. At length, after many a turn
and winding through lanes bordered by vineyards
and overarching hedgerows, the lights of Vodena
shine out like stars from the summit of the high
rock, and are lost as we enter a deep cutting
and begin to climb in utter darkness an almost
perpendicular roadway. But flitting lights draw
near : the Archbishop's Albanian servants with
lanterns, which, aided by the glimmer of their
white fustanelles, suffice to guide us. Entering
Vodena, the plunging and stumbling common to
all progress through an Eastern city commences,
and, giving up any attempt to guide my horse in
the uncertain light, I concentrate my attention on
the projecting roofs of the bazaars, which are
so low that the utmost care is needed to avoid
striking the head against the beams ; but no mis-
adventure occurring, we reach at length the com-
fortable shelter of the Archbishop's palace.

Our host waited at the foot of the stairs to
welcome us, and with remarkable ease of manner
and dignified courtesy conducted our worn and
weary party into his reception-room, from which,
after the usual compliments and coffee, he dis-

10 — 2

148 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

appeared, and was soon perceived through a side
window anxiously directing a bevy of young
priests in laying out the supper-table in the
adjoining hall.

A very elaborate and excellent supper it proved
to be : fish, fresh from the neighbouring streams ;
fowls cooked in various ways ; stewed and roast
lamb ; vegetables ; an abundance of creamy milk
and rice, and 'yaourt,' the curdled milk so much
eaten throughout the East. There were cool
peaches from the archiepiscopal garden, and
delicate grapes from the sunny slopes of the
neighbouring mountains ; wines of the country
and wheaten bread ; but the greatest luxury of
all was the delightful sensation of freshness and
repose in the lulling sound of falling water ;
cascades were rushing under the windows ; it
was an exquisite relief after the long journey
across the burning, sandy plain of the Vardar.

The beauty of this situation has been very
much vaunted ; everyone in these parts — the least
enthusiastic individual, the matter-of-fact trader,
or very unimaginative Jew merchant — warms into
enthusiasm when he speaks of Vodena ; and yet,
the glorious panorama spread out in the freshness

VODENA.

Toface p. 148.

VODENA 149

of the morning made all description tame and
insufficient.

The Archbishop's palace stands on the extreme
verge of a high projecting spur of the mountain,
which ends abruptly with a perpendicular fall.
Far below, masses of walnut-trees, chestnuts and
mulberry plantations, vineyards and fields of
maize, spread a rich carpet of such luxuriant
vegetation that the eye seems to bathe and revel
in its freshness. Far and wide beyond stretches
the plain of the Vardar, softened by a delicate
blue haze, and in the extreme distance, a thread
of silver light — the Gulf of Salonica. To the
right, relieved against the blue, lilac, and gray
masses of the majestic Pindus, stands out a dark
projecting cliff, half hidden in a tangled wilder-
ness of wild vines and creepers, shrubs and trees
of every kind, the dashing water appearing
here and there, tumbling and leaping from the
rock, until lost in the green maze below, its
presence still betrayed by the denser tone of the
foliage, or by the rustic bridge in the bowery
lane.

On the left hand the fall of the cliff is less pre-
cipitous. On the summit is an irregular collection

I5o OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

of picturesque cottages, with dark brown or red
roofs and whitewashed overhanging upper stones,
and linen fluttering in the breeze from the open
balconies. A steep path cut in the cliff descends
like a staircase into the valley ; it is enlivened
occasionally by some lounging Albanian, whose
brilliant scarlet jacket, white fustanelle, and long
gun glitter in the sunlight, or by the less attrac-
tive but more industrious Greek or Bulgarian
peasant, bearing on his head, or pushing forward
on a donkey, masses of green mulberry leaves
for the silkworms reared in the cottages above.
The mountains, which on this side approach
nearer, and have a softer slope, are covered, some
way up, with woods and vineyards, villages and
white country houses, masses of plane-trees,
fountains and ' kiefs.'

There are few apparent remains of antiquity
in this ancient capital of Macedonia ; some ruins
of a wall of very ancient date, and what are sup-
posed to be the foundations of a small temple, can
be seen amongst the pomegranate - trees that
fringe the edge of the cliffs. There is also a
curious old church attached to the Archbishop's
palace, with columns surmounted by richly orna-

VODENA 151

mented capitals, one of them beautifully sculp-
tured with rams' heads and fore-feet, another
finely worked in a design of stags' heads and
hoofs.

The name of Vodena, derived from the
Bulgarian word ' voder ' (water), is truly descrip-
tive of this spot, where running water forms the
principal feature of the locality ; it rushes head-
long down the middle of all the streets, gushing
out in copious fountains at every turn ; and, finally,
bounding over into the plain in many a wild
cascade, runs impetuously under each rustic bridge,
until, with the name of the Kara Asmak (anciently
the Lydias), it passes by Pella, trickles through
the plain, and wasting its feeble strength in the
marshes that border the Gulf of Salonica, reaches
the sea at last, an insignificant streamlet.

[ 152]

OCHRIDA, AND THE MONASTERY OF ST. NAUM.

THE situation of Ochrida is one of the most
beautiful in this land of picturesque beauty — the
lake district of Western Turkey, on the borders
of Albania. The city rose into importance in the
reign of Justinian, when Lychnidus, on the
eastern shore of the lake, was destroyed by earth-
quake. Justinian, a native of these parts,
endowed Ochrida with churches, which remain to
this day, though partly fallen to ruin. Two of
these, the Metropolitan Church and St. Sophia,
are remarkable for the great amount of fresco
painting with which they are lined. In the latter
the walls, roof, galleries, staircase, crypt, all
exhibit the industry, and, sometimes, the skill of
the artist ; not an inch of space is left unemployed,
and the building is very large.

The Metropolitan Church, on the contrary, is
small ; it is ornamented throughout in the same

\ ' '

OCHRIDA, AND THE MONASTERY OF ST. NAUM 153

manner, but in a better style of art ; an inscription
on the gallery, in Greek, states that ' Pictures are
specially used as a means of religious instruction
to the tribes of the Mcesians.' On this subject
we find in the * Manuel d'Iconographie Chretienne '
that ' Pauselinos of Thessalonica was com-
missioned to paint the Metropolitan Church of
Ochrida.' It was this same Pauselinos who
determined the character and types of Greek
ecclesiastical art, which remain practically un-
changed down to the present time. He is sup-
posed to have lived in the reign of Andronicus I. ;
some ancient frescoes are shown as his work
in the principal church of Karies on Mount
Athos.

From the steep descent of the western slopes
of the Pindus you may look down upon the
beautiful lake, and upon the ancient city, covering,
with its crumbling, battlemented walls and fortress,
its ruined palaces, its old cathedral, and rambling
wooden dwellings, a high promontory at the
northern extremity ; on the western shore, the
long range of the Albanian mountains, piled in
sublime confusion, crowned by the snow-capped
peaks above Dibra, Elbassan, and Berat ; in the

I54 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

southern distance a faint outline of lofty summits
marks the position of Janina ; while beneath, on
the border of the lake, a bright speck like the
sparkle of a diamond points out the monastery of
St. Naum.

St. Naum is six hours south of Ochrida, and
being quite out of the direct road usually followed
by the tourists crossing to the Adriatic, has been
very rarely visited by Europeans. Our small
party divided, some preferring the water route,
while the horses were sent round by the pictur-
esque bridle - path skirting the lake ; it passes
through a thick forest where may still be found,
they say, some remains of the ancient capital,
once an important station on the Egnatian Way.

Our cavalcade was led by Hussein, the Consul's
Albanian cavass, and by a crimson-clad suridji
acting as guide, and followed by Black Said,
shouting and vociferating to the baggage horses
in his charge.

We crossed the Sook-sou with water up to the
horses' girths, and followed the narrow track along
beautifully shaded lanes, between hedgerows
heavy with their perfumed maze of blossoms,
until, after two hours of quick riding, we stopped

OCHRIDA, AND THE MONASTERY OF ST. NAUM 155

to rest at a little village near the supposed site of
the ruins of Lychnidus, already mentioned. But
I sought in vain for vestiges of antiquity : the
thick mantle of foliage that covers the face of the
mountain makes such research almost impossible :
my Albanians, quite satisfied with the positive
comfort of a lump of black bread and a pinch of
tobacco, had small sympathy for speculative re-
search, and I resigned myself to the contemplation
of the grotesque attire of the worthy housewives
who stopped to stare at our group on their way
to the village fountain. They wear a monstrous
girdle of black goat's hair, with a large square of
thick stuff, rigid with embroidery and gold thread,
hanging from the shoulders like a breast-plate put
on behind ; it ends in a fringe of goat's-hair tails
reaching to the feet.

The road on leaving this place enters a thick
forest, crossing a steep spur of the mountain ; it
is very rugged and difficult, a mere, horse-track,
disappearing in a shelving slope at the head of
the gullies, and it was necessary to moderate the
ardour of Hussein, who, judging the locality
singularly suited to the execution of a wild sort of
Albanian 'fantasia,' was dashing along, throwing

156 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

his arms up, brandishing his gun and shrieking
with excitement.

At the Durbend everyone dismounted, and
went down the winding staircase of rock on foot,
until once again skirting the lake ; then at a smart
canter through fields and grassy glades, over a
gray stone bridge, to the foot of the paved road
winding upwards to the monastery.

Here we paused a moment : the suridji, quite
unused to such rapid locomotion, was panting
behind, vainly endeavouring, by a ponderous
amble, to assert his dignity as leader and guide
of the party. Travellers in the East are ex-
pected to conform to the foot-pace of the baggage
animals, or at least not to exceed the rahwan or
amble, when the horses can accomplish it ; but
trotting is almost unknown, and as to the gallop,
such precipitancy is only pardonable in tatars and
couriers with despatches, or wild spirits careless
of propriety. The disconcerted guide was now
allowed to take his proper place, followed by
Hussein, and with all becoming solemnity our
little procession passed through the vaulted
archway of St. Naum.

The speck which had glittered so brightly in

r:-: ^

OCHRIDA, AND THE MONASTERY OF ST. NAUM 157

the distance had taken form and substance as the
windings of the road brought us within nearer
view of the monastery. It was not a white
building, after all, but a bewildering mass of dark-
gray moss-covered stone, brown rafters, projecting
balconies and sloping roofs, with just enough
whitewash in the upper story to pick out and
intensify the rich tone of the old timbers. To
add that, standing as it does on a projecting
tongue of land, all this is mirrored in the clear
water of a little bay ; that it is backed by forest-
clad mountains overtopped by snowy peaks, can
give but a faint idea of the exquisite beauty of
the picture, the vigorous colouring of the old
monastery with its groves and gardens, and the
pearly tints of the distant range rising from the
shores of the Adriatic.

A great clanging of bells greeted our arrival ;
it proceeded from one large bell, a piece of metal
struck with a mallet and a wooden bar ; the din
was terrific. I was glad to escape by following a
bearded monk up a wooden exterior staircase and
through rambling ante-chambers, into a large,
well-furnished room overhanging the lake. Here,
comfortably established in the corner of the divan,

158 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

I could look down from one window on the mazy
windings of a small river, green with the deep
shadowing of its leafy canopy ; from the other
side of the angle I could see far over the liquid
plain to the distant crags and wild fastnesses of
Albania, or watch our little boat, with its white
awning, making way steadily forwards to the
monastery.

The prior, the Reverend Father Seraphim, fat,
good-humoured, and hospitable, came to offer his
compliments of welcome. He seemed very willing
to be chatty : the visit of European ladies was an
event till then unknown in the annals of that
remote nook, and his inquiries, accompanied and
modified by the usual refreshments of sweet-
meats and coffee, lasted until the arrival of the
rest of the party. They were in high spirits, and
quite ready for dinner after the long row ; but this
proved far too important a business to be hurried.
Elaborate preparations were being made ; hour
after hour we waited, the gentlemen making from
time to time sallies of inspection, and returning
to report slow and solemn progress, until, near ten
o'clock at night, we were invited to the table.

The crockery and all the things supposed to be

OCHRIDA, AND THE MONASTERY OF ST. NAUM 159

necessary to the reception of a Frank party had
been brought with great trouble from Ochrida ;
we saw again the familiar 'willow pattern'; there
were knives, forks, and drinking glasses. The
merry old prior served each dish himself, now and
then employing his finger to assist the operation ;
perhaps it was for the first time that he used a
knife and fork, but he managed it very well upon
the whole. During the repast he shook with
laughter as he related many a droll anecdote, and
told long stories of his forced reception of large
bodies of military passing through the province.
His anxieties had not, however, made him thin ;
doubtless he kept himself well up with the gene-
rous produce of the rich vineyards of the monastery,
always at hand.

The community of St. Naum, formerly com-
posed of fifty or sixty monks, now^numbers only
five or six. The monastery was built in the ninth
century, by St. Naum, who was one of the 'Mission
of Seven ' sent by the Greek Church for the con-
version of the Bulgarians to Christianity.

The two principal members of this missionary
band — the brothers Cyril and Methodius, sons of
a patrician family of Thessalonica — undertook a

160 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

task of immense difficulty, it being necessary to
arrange an alphabet and found a written language,
in order to translate and explain the Holy Scrip-
tures. History states that they converted a large
proportion of the Bulgarian people, and, finally,
the King, Bogaris, to the Christian faith ; he was
baptized by the name of Michael, then Emperor
of Constantinople, A.D. 86 1.

Amongst the members of the ' Mission of
Seven ' — all of whose names have been pre-
served— we find those of St. Clement and St.
Naum as founders of this monastery ; the latter
undertaking more particularly the construction of
the edifice ; some stones in one part of it are
pointed out as remains of the palace of King
Michael (Bogaris). The tomb of St. Clement is
shown near one of the ruined palaces of Ochrida.

This monastery is a place of reception for
pilgrims, merchants, and traders, who pass through
in considerable numbers during the year. An
orphan asylum, containing on an average sixty
orphans, is attached to the establishment. It is
also much resorted to for the cure of lunatics,
who are brought here from distant parts of the
country. The patients are subjected to a very

OCHRIDA AND THE MONASTERY OF ST. NAUM 161

peculiar treatment, the same method being em-
ployed, without discrimination, in every case.
During forty days they are kept in strict con-
finement, and fed on bread and vinegar, adminis-
tered once in the twenty-four hours. The most
important part of the remedy, however, consists
in the patients being brought out each day, to sit
for a certain length of time on the tomb of St.
Naum, while a portion of the Holy Gospels is
read to them. The monks assert that this simple
treatment never fails (!).

Tradition says that some sacrilegious persons,
endeavouring to break open the tomb of the saint,
in a search for concealed treasure, were struck
with madness. This tomb is placed in a small
side-chapel of the monastery, which stands in the
centre of the great court, the only remnant of the
original building. It is painted throughout with
scenes from the life of St. Naum ; one picture
tells that as he was conveying stones to the spot,
in a cart, a lion and a bear made a sociable meal
of one of the oxen, and, in punishment, were
forced to submit to be themselves harnessed.

The monastery is very large ; it contains a vast
number of rooms and cells of different degrees,

1 1

162 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

some comfortably furnished with divans and rugs.
Most of the better rooms are built and fitted up
by charitable persons, villages or communities, and
are called by their names. In addition to the
lodgings within the buildings, there are long rows
of cells surrounding an outer court ; these shelter,
indiscriminately, people of the lower orders,
drovers and their cattle.

At the time of the festival of St. Naum, June
20, an immense concourse of people assemble in
and around the monastery, and, uniting profit
with piety, they hold a great fair, where much
business is transacted between the upper and
lower provinces.

At a very short distance from the monastery, a
gush of water, several yards broad, issues from
beneath a rock, and winding for a short space
through a green maze of overhanging boughs,
falls into the lake with sufficient force to turn a
large water-wheel on the brink. This is the source
of the Black Drin ; it runs through the lake of
Ochrida — as the Rhine and the Rhone traverse
the lakes of Constance and Geneva — and issuing
on the northern shore near the Albanian town of
Struga, flows northwards towards the confines

OCHRIDA AND THE MONASTERY OF ST. NAUM 163

of Servia ; then, turning to the south-west, falls
into the Adriatic at a short distance below
Dulcigno.

The Black Drin is remarkable as yielding
salmon and salmon-trout. There is a very im-
portant fishing station at Struga, where both these
fish and eels are taken in great quantities, especially
the latter, a haul of 6,000 okes having been made
at one time ; they are salted and sent to Con-
stantinople, Servia, and Roumania. The eels are
taken in wicker traps, and the salmon speared.
The fishing season lasts during May and June,
and the fisheries of Struga are at that time a
favourite resort of the inhabitants of Ochrida,
who go there for very elaborate and recherche
fish dinners.

The silver filigree work, so much in use
throughout Albania, forms the chief industry of
the little town of Struga ; it is carried to per-
fection also in Ochrida, where it is in great
demand for the innumerable buttons required for
the adornment of both men and women, as well
as for the gigantic clasps worn by Greeks and
Bulgarians.

Ochrida carries on a considerable trade in furs,

1 1 — 2

164 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

which are received from Leipsic and here made
up into the heavy coats so universally worn by
both men and women, at all seasons of the year.
To preserve the skins from moth, they simply
expose them to a thorough draught, and for this
purpose the ground-floor of the dwelling of a fur
merchant is left clear so as to permit a free current
of air; it is fitted with swinging beams. The people
of Ochrida declare that this simple plan never fails
in its preservative effect.

The embroidery of the splendid costumes of
Albanian ladies of the better class also gives
much occupation ; the work is done entirely by
men. A description of this dress, contributed by
an eyewitness, shows it to be infinitely richer and
more picturesque than the costume of Turkish
ladies. The scene was the harem of the Mudir
of Ochrida, then living in the old palace of Jellal-
eddin Bey :

4 We found the hanum standing by a fountain
in the court, with the skirts of her antary
tucked up, helping her maidens to wash linen ;
she came forward, smiling, and not at all dismayed
at being caught in such a homely occupation, and
begging us to follow one of her women, soon after

OCHRIDA AND THE MONASTERY OF ST. NAUM 165

made her appearance, with her long train sweeping
the ground in the most approved style. The
room in which we were received was a vast
chamber, divided from the great entrance-hall
(in the centre of which were the remains of a
handsome marble fountain) by a row of carved
wooden pillars, supporting cross-beams richly or-
namented with arabesque work ; the ceiling of
dark oak was also carved, as well as the high
conical screen of the chimney.

' Emine hanum was pretty, with a fair com-
plexion, blue eyes, and light auburn hair. Her
throat was adorned with a thick string of pearls,
beside several rows of gold coins ; her antary
and shalvers were made of light-coloured silk,
striped with gold.

' Presently another visitor arrived — an Albanian
Moslem lady, residing in the neighbourhood. She
entered the room completely enveloped in a large
black feradje, which, contrary to the usual custom,
she retained on perceiving strangers ; but after-
wards, at our request, she suffered it to be taken
off by her attendants, and stood upright for a few
minutes before us, quite dazzling from the splen-
dour of her attire. Over a chemisette of delicate

166 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

striped gauze, richly embroidered in gold, she wore
a black velvet waistcoat stiff with gold galloon,
and edged with a thick row of pendant buttons in
gold filigree ; upon this a jacket of plum coloured
silk, also trimmed with gold, having sleeves of
a peculiar form peaked at the wrists. She wore
no antary, but her voluminous trousers of white
striped muslin were heavily embroidered with gold.
This brilliant costume was completed by a sleeve-
less pelisse, reaching to the feet, in crimson velvet,
thickly braided with the same precious metal ; a
magnificent shawl girdle and a pale yellow hand-
kerchief to confine the rippling masses of her jet-
black hair. This daughter of Albania was in
every respect a remarkable contrast to her Turk-
ish hostess, as she leaned back on the cushions
of the divan, lightly holding an amber - tipped
tchibouk.'

[ 167 ]

RECOLLECTIONS OF MITYLENE.

I HAD long wished to visit the island of Mitylene,
and at length a favourable opportunity occurring,
I left Constantinople by the Austrian steamer,
taking with me an old and valued servant, a native
of that place, who had not returned to his home
for several years.

We had made a pause at the Dardanelles, and
in the course of the day passed Tenedos, which
— its good wine notwithstanding — is a bare and
barren-looking island, with a range of weird and
desolate windmills breaking the ungraceful sky-
line. Seen above Imbros, the high mountain
summit of Samothrace, pale and dove-coloured,
melts in the soft haze of the approaching sunset.

As we turned southwards, the beautiful sil-
houette of the island of Mitylene gradually took
clearer form and colour : a range of mountains
strongly marked by ravines and deep valleys rose

168 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

behind a bold rocky promontory covered by the
battlemented walls of an immense fortress that
extends quite down to the shore. Rounding this,
the town of Mitylene (called by the natives Castro)
comes in sight, and the steamer drops its anchor
in the open roadstead in front of the harbour,
which it cannot enter, for long neglect has made
this refuge useless for vessels of any size. In
stormy weather it often indeed happens that the
boats of the Lloyd's and Egyptian lines simply
slacken speed without anchoring ; there is a
record of an unfortunate merchant, a passenger for
Mitylene, who could not even disembark, and
was carried three or four times past his native
island, between Smyrna and Stamboul. The
embarking and unloading of cargo is a perilous
service, and the boatmen of the great lighters,
who are brought up from boyhood to brave these
dangers, display an almost incredible amount of
strength and skill.

There was ample time while waiting on the
deck to look around. Parched, rocky, and arid
as are all these islands of the Archipelago on their
southern shores, the parts that face the coast of
Asia Minor, sheltered from the burning westerly

RECOLLECTIONS OF MITYLENE 169

rays, and from the withering south-west gales, are
luxuriantly rich and fertile.

The town of Mitylene covers an isthmus, and
on this side creeps up the lower slopes of the pro-
montory, crowned by the vast fortifications of the
Genoese castle already seen from the northern
side — a majestic assemblage of immense towers
and bastions within two lines of high crenellated
walls. Until lately a square, castellated tower,
partly ruined (and now destroyed), stood on the
shore at the foot of the great castle ; it formed an
exquisite foreground object to a picture of marvel-
lous beauty : the bold sweep of the bay, backed
by a range of mountains covered almost to the
summit with luxuriant forest growth or soft
pastoral cultivation ; the dark green of the orange
grove, contrasting with the pale, tender tone of
the olive, and with the bright freshness of vine-
yards, meadows and upland pastures ; higher still
a wilderness of oak and beech and chestnuts, the
whole dotted with white villages with their
church steeples — with hamlets and solitary farms.
Beyond the last point of the mountain range that
descends in a gradual slope to the sea-shore, you
can trace in the haze of distance the delicate,

i;o OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

almost ethereal, outline of the island of Schio, and
on the opposite shore the entrance to the Gulf of
Smyrna.

I remained in Mitylene for several weeks, and
had thus an opportunity of seeing and studying
much that can scarcely come within the observa-
tion of the passing tourist. My notes of that visit
date, it is true, from some years back, but since
that time the natural advantages of this beautiful
island, its great fertility, its numerous hot springs
and mineral baths, its fine air and healthy climate,
the magnificent harbours of Kaloni and Hiera,
continue unchanged ; new financial and com-
mercial enterprises have increased its wealth and
importance, but the remains of ancient works and
monuments, in which Lesbos, the rival of Athens,
was richer than any of the islands of the eastern
Archipelago, have — in many cases within these few
years — been dispersed or destroyed; it seems well,
therefore, to keep some record of them as they
were seen in their former positions.

One of the most interesting of these relics is
the chair of Potamon, son of Lesbonax, called by
the natives the ' Throne' ; it stands in the entrance
court of the Archbishop's palace, and is used at

RECOLLECTIONS OF MITYLENE 171

the close of the Easter festival, when the prelate
takes his seat thereon, distributes the Easter eggs
to the crowd, and drinks to their health and
prosperity.

This beautiful relic of the ancient splendours
of Lesbos is formed of one block of white marble ;
one side of it is partly broken away, but the other,
on the left hand, shows very elaborate sculpture ;
the seat is supported on the limbs and claws of a
griffin ; the upper part displays in high relief the
entire form of the winged creature, with the
exception of the head ; the lower part is orna-
mented by a monstrous scaly serpent, that winds
about a supporting column and reaches its head
nearly to the marble seat : a finely carved marble
footstool stands in front between the claws. The
inscription on the chair says : * The chair of Pota-
mon, son of Lesbonax.' This Lesbonax, a native
of Mitylene, lived in the time of Augustus ; he
was a learned man and a philosopher, and wrote
several political orations, of which two only have
been preserved. Potamon, his soil, was a teacher
of rhetoric at Rome, where he was much be-
friended by Tiberius. The passport written by
this Emperor for Potamon, when the latter desired

i;2 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

to return to his native island, was strongly to the
point ; it ran thus : ' This is Potamon, son of
Lesbonax ; if anyone dare to do him harm', let
him first consider whether he be strong enough
to make war upon me.'

We paid a visit to the Archbishop, who received
us with a courteous welcome, and gave us of the
best of sweetmeats and coffee, but I grieve to say
that he showed the very faintest appreciation of
the value of the historical remains over which he
might — were he so inclined — exercise a preserva-
tive control.

In the immediate neighbourhood of a hospital,
founded and endowed by a rich inhabitant of
the city, a row of massive pediments, at regular
distances, are said to be remains of the great
Temple of Apollo ; several broken shafts of
immense fluted columns lie amongst a tangle of
weeds ;* close to these remains of a colonnade or
portico, and in the neglected garden of the
hospital two or three singularly beautiful capitals
might seem to justify the belief of the natives that
much more extensive and important ruins, with

* These columns have since been taken to ornament the portico
of a college for boys, built on this spot.

RECOLLECTIONS OF MITYLENE 173

remnants of tessellated pavement, lie* beneath the
surface : a rough sort of little chapel has been
built on the ground, thus rendering it a sacred
spot, a protection which the Mussulman population
invariably respect.

The same device has been used to preserve the
ruins of an ancient church or temple on the slope
of the hill beyond the town ; little remains to
identify these ruins except blocks of marble of
great size, and a few detached Greek letters on
some stones ; these fragments were disclosed by
the displacement of the ground during the earth-
quake of 1867. Below this, and apparently in
connection with it, a large excavation may be
seen from which many blocks of marble and
columns had been lately taken : some call these
the ruins of a theatre.

The whole of this hill-side, leading up to the
Teke, or Mussulman burial-ground, is covered
with fragments of antiquity : bits of old marble
and brickwork and of glazed pottery ; tiny terra-
cotta heads (of which I possess one — an exquisite
head of an infant) ; morsels — fragments — which
are nothing — but yet everything ! — bearing their
silent testimony to the former importance of

174 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

this ancient Lesbos — the island beloved of
Apollo — the resting-place of the head and lyre
of Orpheus ; the birthplace of Arion ; the cradle
of lyric poetry ; the home of Sappho, of her
friend Alceus, and of her pupil, Erinna ; the
island which, ten centuries before the Christian
era, was one of the richest and most prosperous
in the ^Egean Sea — the now almost unknown
Mitylene !

The old town, indeed, particularly the Turkish
quarter, which is, they say, the site of the ancient
city, is full of these unconscious witnesses : every
courtyard, the corners in the narrow lanes, show
fragments of columns, or of sculptured capitals ;
here, a mass of red granite ; there, a line of
delicate frieze-work let into the basement of
some humble dwelling. One small church, St.
George's, has its wooden portico supported on
reversed columns, with exquisite Corinthian capi-
tals. The same design is repeated in a piece of
friezework with a long inscription let into a wall
immediately adjoining.

Some well-preserved mosaic pavement was
shown in the entry of a small house at the foot
of the Castle Hill ; some other was pointed out as

RECOLLECTIONS OF MITYLENE 175

belonging to part of an ancient bath, near the
shore, but this last has been greatly obliterated
by sea deposit, and close to this spot the remains
of two great moles, formerly enclosing a spacious
harbour, may be traced at the base of the pro-
montory.

We started one morning to visit the fortress,
taking a little pathway through fields of green
corn, where children — in preparation for the next
day — May i (o.s.), were busy in collecting large
bunches of poppies and other field flowers, to
make the garlands which will be found suspended
over every — even the poorest — entrance door.

Passing onwards and upwards, the little path
wound through a large fig plantation ; some of the
trees had bunches of figs tied together, hung on
their branches. It was explained that these
bunches were wild figs. They are tied on to the
cultivated trees in order to encourage the good
fruit not to fall off!

We reached the castle ; a vast bewildering en-
closure chiefly encircling an extraordinary mass of
fallen columns, capitals — fragments of past splen-
dour everywhere. It was difficult, at first, in this
maze of towers and battlements, more or less

i;6 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

ancient and ruinous, to make out exactly where
the garrison might be located : a koulouk, or
guard-house, occupies a small, half-ruined Byzan-
tine chapel ; but the church mentioned in a former
4 Murray ' is an utter ruin ; for this, as for part of
the destruction noticed on every side, neglect and
carelessness are not solely responsible ; much of it
is due to the terrible earthquake shocks of 1867.

Within the wall of the fortress there exists a
large ancient cistern ; a part of one fluted shaft
of a column still stands in the water, but the roof
is now supported on several columns, placed across
like beams ; they, doubtless, formerly sustained a
vaulted covering in the usual manner.

The climate of Mitylene is one of the healthiest
in the East ; the mountains covered by forests of
pine, and the fresh sea-breezes perfumed by the
masses of aromatic plants that clothe all the un-
cultivated lands; the abundance of running waters,
and the numerous and valuable mineral springs,
combine to render this beautiful island a happy
land of plenty and peace.

Extreme poverty is unknown ; most of the

RECOLLECTIONS OF MITYLENE 177

inhabitants possess their own 'vines and fig-trees/
and, one may add, their fruitful and lucrative
orange plantations and olive groves. The olive
forms not the only, but the principal source ot
wealth of the inhabitants ; it may be said to
absorb their every thought. ' I know many men
here,' said my host, ' who are immensely rich ;
they do not at all enjoy their wealth, they have
neither fine houses nor comfortable furniture ; they
have little education, and no ideas ; their only
thought is to gaze up, heads thrown back,
and open-mouthed, into their olive trees, asking
themselves, " Will there be a good crop of olives
this season ?"

There is, however, one thing to be said in favour
of the poor rich men : that in all the schools of the
island education is gratuitous, maintained entirely
by the inhabitants : every man is obliged, according
to his means, if not by law, at least by established
custom, to contribute very liberally, and to leave
money in his will for schools and hospitals.

Looked upon as a Greek country under Turkish
rule (the larger proportion of the inhabitants being
Greek), Mitylene may be considered to hold a
high rank, in the matter of public instruction ;

12

178 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

the college of Castro deems itself to be superior
to that of Smyrna.

A very lively import and export trade is carried
on here, an interchange of goods and manufac-
tures between Europe and Asia. Some of these
exports are not quite familiar to the English
stranger. For instance, among the long list of
wine and oil, soaps, potteries, valonea acorns,
wools and hides, there are the great leather
skins, used throughout the East for holding
wine, oil, flour, etc.

Wandering one day through the principal busi-
ness street of Castro, I was amused and interested
to observe the primitive and practical way of
testing these skins. Every hole being of course
closed, the skin, which looks like a skinned
animal minus the head, is inflated by a bellows ;
when quite full of air, a man gives it a tremendous
blow, and, if sound, it is laid aside for future use.
In this instance they were preparing them for
holding the oil to be employed in the soap
manufactories.

This is a very busy, industrious town, and a
great amount of its interest is centred in oil
and soap ; therefore, after seeing the skins duly

RECOLLECTIONS OF MITYLENE 179

banged and tested, we stepped a few yards
further on, into the premises of a soap manufac-
tory, to look at the great oil-presses worked by
steam. An improvement on the primitive
method was introduced some years since, by
English merchants from Smyrna, who own a
large establishment, where the refuse from the
oil mills — formerly cast away — is utilized and
made to yield a considerable amount of greenish
oil, by means of hydraulic pressure. In the im-
mediate neighbourhood of these works, excava-
tions on the hillside have brought to light funereal
urns and other remains of an ancient necropolis.

But to return to the ' tcharshi,' which is even
more interesting than the market-place of a
Western city ; for here, in the East, not only the
produce of the country, the strange fruits, and
unaccustomed wares, the costume of the peasantry
and the life of the place are to be seen, but the
manufacture of almost every article is carried on
in public, in the open shops. You may watch the
'cadaif sprinkled from a small funnel on to the
heated disc ; it dries, curls, separates, and in a
few minutes a hank of the delicate vermicelli-like
article is ready for sale. You may overlook, if so

12 2

i8o OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

inclined, the genuine preparation of * kebabs' from
the very beginning of the cuts from the carcase,
hanging in a convenient cool corner, or, passing
on, pause again to wonder at the rapidity and
care with which rahat lokoum, sugared almonds,
candies and sweets innumerable, are produced.
The next shop, perhaps, is devoted to milk ;
people are sitting there, at rough tables, eating
their bread and milk, helped out of great pans,
with ladles, which are simply the half of a gourd,
with its long stick-like natural handle. On the
open shop-front are ranged bowls of * mohalibe/
rice-flour and milk, sprinkled with sugar and rose-
water, finished with lumps of clotted cream, in the
proper season; other bowls, of 'aschourah,' a
mystic and symbolical mixture of ten substances ;
'ekmek cadaif,' very thin pancakes, with lumps of
clotted cream inserted ; and so on, through an
endless variety of sweet confections.

In the herb shop you will find, amongst many
familiar dried plants and herbs, the 'origanum/
(wild marjoram), called by the natives ' rhigani/
the blossom of a low shrub growing wild in great
profusion all over the uncultivated land ; it has
somewhat the scent of thyme ; an oil is extracted

RECOLLECTIONS OF MITYLENE 181

from it, which is used in medicine, and exported
to Germany and Austria.

Another article, which instead of being exported
is, on the contrary, imported from Athens, Venice,
the Danube, and many other places, may seem
extraordinary to those who look here upon moun-
tains covered with the finest forest growth of
pinewoods — planks and wood for house-building of
the better class. The splendid forest growth is
used for inferior dwellings, for firewood, and per-
haps for ship-building ; but an unpleasant peculi-
arity about these pine-trees (not unknown else-
where), and that is especially prevalent in the
neighbourhood of Kaloni — is the objectionable
fact, that the tree itself breeds bugs to such an
extent that anyone endeavouring to rest in the
grateful shade is immediately aware of this re-
pulsive and most undesirable circumstance.

The Mityleniotes are a fine race, the men tall
and well made. Their proper costume (which is,
alas ! rapidly yielding to the mean and ungraceful
outlines of Western civilization) consists of a short
cloth jacket worn open, and displaying a highly
fashionable waistcoat, open nearly to the waist ; a
gorgeous scarf, wound loosely ; extremely full and

182 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

ample trousers — the mass of superfluous folds,
swaying heavily with every step, reaches nearly
to the ground ; but the crowning peculiarity con-
sists of polished leather shoes, very square in the
toes, and made expressly about four inches longer
than the foot, that they may crinkle and turn up
becomingly.

The women of Mitylene, in ancient times so
celebrated for their beauty, their wit and fasci-
nation, and their skill in needlework and em-
broidery, often combine the charm of wavy auburn
or dark hair and long lashes with eyes of bluish-
gray; delicate features, and an upright and firm
carriage, as though fully impressed with their great
social importance — and not without reason, for, in
Mitylene, owing to exceptional circumstances, the
custom arose in the fifteenth century of giving
the greatest advantages to the daughters of a
family, to the prejudice of the sons. It is the
eldest daughter who inherits the family mansion ;
it is for her that the spinning-wheel and the loom
are kept in activity almost from the moment of her
birth, and although the younger daughters are not
forgotten, it is always the eldest girl who is the
favoured child of the family. Many endeavours

RECOLLECTIONS OF MITYLENE 183

have been made in order to equalize these some-
what unjust measures, and to give the sons their
due proportion of family prosperity ; but ancient
custom is tenacious, and as yet little progress
has been made towards a more equitable parti-
tion.

These young Lesbian maidens wear a very
ample 'divided skirt,' from out of which their
often bare feet contrast strangely with the elabo-
rate adornments of jacket and waistcoat, and with
the graceful muslin handkerchief used as a head-
dress, trimmed with its dainty silken flowers.
One or two ancient dames, clinging to the fashions
of their long past youth, still envelop their heads
in a wonderful swathing of black muslin, topped
by one gigantic bow, stiffened, square, and standing
high up, so that the whole arrangement bears a
curious resemblance to the helmet of Minerva, as
represented in the very earliest sculptures. The
natives of Mitylene imagine that this strange
headdress has been handed down from that
remote mythological time.

They are very industrious, and as we pass
onwards the whirr of the loom or the hum of the
spinning-wheel comes from many an open door-

184 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

way. The looms are generally set up in the large
covered yard forming the basement of the house,
and many young girls, with bright flowers in their
hair, are weaving the woollen stuff, or the linen, in
preparation for their marriage outfit. One is
irresistibly reminded of Erinna, a native of this
place, and a pupil of Sappho, who died in her
early youth, leaving to posterity the three hundred
lines of her poem, * The Distaff,' composed while
spinning in the humble cottage of her mother,
who disapproved of her gifted child's poetic
fancies. She breathed out her soul to the move-
ment of her loom, and passed away in the dawn
of her genius and renown. This poem has not
been preserved, but it is mentioned and highly
praised by several of the poets whose lines form
the Greek Anthology. The following extract
(translated for me) is a specimen of one of these
sonnets :

4 There is a little sweet Lesbian wax of Erinna's,
but it is all mixed with honey from the Muses.
Her three hundred lines are equal to Homer's,
and she a maiden of nineteen years ; a worshipper
of the Muses, she was touching the distaff, in
fear of her mother, who stood at the web.

RECOLLECTIONS OF MITYLENE 185

Erinna is as far above Sappho in hexameters,
as Sappho is above Erinna in lyric verses.'

In the courtyard of a mosque a hollow sarco-
phagus is shown as the tomb of Sappho ; this relic,
one would say, is more than doubtful.

[ i86]

THE HARBOUR OF THE OLIVES.

MITYLENE can boast of three natural harbours ;
the largest, that of Kaloni, is of vast extent, but
the surrounding land is marshy and unhealthy :
the harbour of Sigri is on the west coast : and the
large inlet, the most important in the Archipelago,
known as the Harbour of the Olives, sometimes
also called Hiera, is only distant about four miles
from the capital ; it is easily reached by one of
the fine roads made several years ago by an
Engineer officer in the Turkish service, General
Belinski. These excellent works have suffered
greatly from earthquake, and still more from
subsequent want of repair. But if the way is
somewhat rough and irregular, the charm of the
exquisite vistas that open out with every turn of
the winding ascent through mulberry plantations
and olive groves, leading us steeply upwards
towards the summit of the pass, would fully repay

THE HARBOUR OF THE OLIVES 187

much greater exertion. On the left hand, the
mountain side sweeps downwards towards the sea,
covered with splendid forest growth, in which
two white villages with their churches shine out
like clusters of jewels in their deep green setting :
here and there a solitary tchiftlik sparkles, or a
group of dwellings near the foot of the mountain
stands clearly defined against the soft azure of the
calm water.

We pass a flock of goats sprinkled over the
slope, goats of many colours, dark and fair — deep
brown, coffee-coloured, dark gray, pale gray, and
snowy white. They are eating with intense
satisfaction the large ruby arums that grow in
abundance, and that do not seem to emit, here,
the unbearable odour that exhales from these
plants in the plains of Broussa. The peasants all
deck themselves with natural flowers, and the
young goatherd, not finding a suitable blossom
ready to hand, has beautified himself with a long
stalk of green bearded wheat, jauntily placed over
his left ear.

The road winds still upwards through sunlight
and shadow, until the summit of the pass is
reached, and the beautiful panorama opens out

1 88 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

over the blue ^Egean, dotted with snow-white sails;
beyond, in the pale distance, the site of Pergamos
is pointed out, then the coast of Magnesia, and
all that wonderful roll of mountain beyond moun-
tain, leading away into the heart of that historic
land of buried cities and vanished splendour.

The road on the right hand begins to descend
by a cutting amongst crags and boulders of gray
rock, half buried in masses of ilex, of feathery
olive and sturdy full-leaved mulberry trees. Still
further, great patches of brilliantly red earth
begin to appear on the high banks, and we pass a
party of women and boys busily scraping it out :
they will use it as paint to redden their earthen
stoves.

A little further still and, far down, partly seen
through a delicate veil of olive groves, the beau-
tiful inlet, the Harbour of the Olives,^ looking
like a great silent lake (as the extremely narrow
entrance is from here invisible), runs for fifteen
miles into the land, sheltered by mountains on
either side. A space of level ground, bordering
the water of the opposite shore, shows a thick
plantation of poplar-trees, grown in order to pro-

* More properly called the Gulf of Hiera.

X

THE HARBOUR OF THE OLIVES 189

duce the long wands necessary for knocking down
the ripe olives.

At our feet we look down upon the roofs and
vine-garlanded terraces of a considerable bathing
establishment, built over the hot mineral springs
of Kendros. There are two sources that supply
these baths, and the great marble basins or
tanks of ancient construction, are supposed to
accommodate fifty bathers without inconvenience.
These springs are situated some fifteen or twenty
yards apart, but are in the same group of
buildings.

Mitylene is very rich in mineral springs, the
three principal sources being Kendros, Thermi,
and Polichniti. This is to be expected in an
island that can boast of two extinct volcanoes, one
in the neighbourhood of Petra, beyond Methymna,
the other near Polichniti. Volcanic rocks are
found at the very gates of the city — the soil of
the whole island seems, indeed, to be composed
of volcanic remains ; and the terrible earthquake
shocks, from which Mitylene has suffered so
severely, would show that if the volcanoes are
now extinct, the latent power which they once
developed still exists.

190 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

The hot iron springs of Polichniti are in the
mountains, not far from the entrance of the Gulf
of Kaloni, and at more than thirty miles distance
from Castro. The heat of the water is so great,
even after its exposure to the air as it flows down
the mountain side, that the neighbouring villagers
use it as a natural kitchen ; they simply plunge
their pans and kettles into the stream, and every-
thing is cooked to perfection. I did not reach
this distant spring, but in company of a friend and
attended by our respective servants, I visited the
baths of Thermi.

THERMI, THE GREAT CYPRESS AND THE
RUINED AQUEDUCT.

WE embarked in one of the large boats used in
conveying cargo and passengers for the great
steamers. The morning was brilliantly fine, but
there was a heavy swell, and the shape of the
boat, combined with the height of the sides, caused
a good deal of movement, and at the same time a
very quiescent state of low spirits among our little
party. The wind also was contrary, and it took
us nearly an hour to round the promontory, and
two more before reaching the little landing-place
of Thermi, having passed two pretty white
villages embosomed in olive-groves, Mauria and
Pamphilia.

The baths, which are at a few minutes' walk from
the shore, were crowded, chiefly with peasantry,
for there is no sort of accommodation for bathers
of the better class, who must find a lodging in

192 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

the poor little village, and have the water brought
to them with great trouble and expense. I have
heard these waters spoken of as most valuable
and efficacious by sufferers who had been relieved,
if not quite cured, of sciatica, rheumatism, and
other similar troubles, and there is no doubt that
a small hotel on the spot, giving the simple com-
forts indispensable for an invalid, could not fail of
success.

The women's bath was crowded to suffocation ;
the square basin, of very ancient construction, has
a roof supported on a massive fluted column with
sculptured capital ; a dozen women, forming a
chain, were circling round this column, singing in
chorus, the water up to their necks and each head
enturbaned with white towelling : in the deep
gloom of the bath, which receives no light except
from the small rounds of semi-opaque glass in
the roof, the effect was decidedly witch-like and
uncanny. Outside the part of the group of
buildings assigned to the use of the men, one
remarks many portions of columns and several
inscriptions in ancient Greek, on slabs let into the
walls.

The waters of Thermi contain iron and sulphur.

THE GREAT CYPRESS 193

as is shown by the trickling streamlet rushing
down a little gully full of bright red, yellow and
green stones. In a valuable local account of the
advantages and resources of Mitylene, I find the
heat of this water marked at 37° centigrade, and
that close by there is a spring with the taste and
qualities of seltzer-water. The heat was intense,
and we were glad to seek even a modified shade
amongst the olive-groves on our way to one of
the wonders of the island — the giant cypress-tree
— following an old woman who volunteered as
guide.

But the olive-trees of Mitylene, unlike those of
Crete, give but a pretence of shade from the
blazing sun ; the way was airless, the track rough
and stony, and we had nearly abandoned the toil-
some ascent, when a dark tree summit towering
above the paler foliage is perceived, and we take
heart, pausing only beside a rustic fountain to
watch a group of Turkish women on their way
to the bath, and to admire a Wallachian gipsy,
whose wonderfully expressive face was strangely
attractive, in spite of dirt and tatters.

We reach the tree, a truly wonderful specimen
of the spreading cypress — such a trunk ! such

13

I94 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

gnarled branches ! such towering dark foliage !—
apparently the only one of its kind in these parts.
No wonder that many legends cling about this
sylvan giant. One monstrous arm had been
taken off, professedly for use in the building of a
church, by some man of past times, who, however,
changed his mind, and using the precious wood
for his own house-building, was thereafter the
victim of continued misfortune to the end of his
life. Another venturesome person cut off a small
part of the tree, and immediately the wood began
to bleed ! The natives say that the great cypress-
tree is as old as the world. Doubtless it saw the
ancient columns of porphyry and marble, the
capitals and sculptured stones — now lying about,
neglected and broken — upright and each in its
own place. Who knows its age ? Who knows its
real history ?

Beyond the limits of shadow cast by the giant
cypress the heat was intense ; I made a con-
scientious and perfectly futile attempt to find a
point from which a sketch might be possible ; all
around was too thickly wooded, and there was a
secret, unconfessed feeling of relief in realizing
that the proper spot is unfindable.

THE RUINED AQUEDUCT 195

We left Thermi in the cool of the evening,
giving passage in the large boat to an itinerant
musician, with his hand-organ. The four boat-
men and my friend's two native girls, Malama
and Agnoula, are delighted. The organ wails from
time to time to encourage the rowers, for we are
beginning to run a race with the Egyptian steamer
which is in sight ; our rowers strain at the oars,
the steamer begins to slacken speed ; with a
screeching whistle and great rattling of anchor
•chains, it stops in the roadstead as we turn into
the harbour, and liberate our eager boatmen for
their further duties.

Beyond the pretty village of Mauria, at a short
distance from Mitylene towards the north, there
.are some noble ruins of an aqueduct, which
connects the beautifully wooded sides of a valley
and crosses a small stream that ripples towards
the sea, half-hidden by boulders of pale gray
marble and masses of blossoming white and pink
•oleander, of thyme-scented ' rhigani,' and aromatic
plants innumerable.

It is a stately ruin, reminding one strongly of
the celebrated ' Pont du Card ' ; the upper tier
of small arches is wanting in the Mitylene

196 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

aqueduct, but it resembles it in the surrounding;
features of the scenery, and in the massive per-
fection of the masonry that still remains to show
what it must have been when, some sixty or
seventy years ago, it was — so say the natives —
still entire ; but, alas ! earthquake arid ruthless
destruction have sadly reduced these noble pro-
portions, and only three tiers of the central arches
continue unspoiled : earthquake began the destruc-
tion on the left side of the stream, and the owner
of some land on the other bank, seeing how well
these beautifully wrought stones served for build-
ing purposes, began pulling down on his side, stone
by stone, until only this ruin amongst olive groves
and mulberry plantations remains to keep in
memory the once stately structure.

The range of arches in the upper part is of
red and brown brickwork, supported on massive
piers of beautifully cut, bevelled and fitted stone,
in alternate courses of very large square and of
oblong blocks ; there were probably twelve arches
in its original length, and in the dip of the valley
three, or perhaps four, arches in the foundations :
the thick undergrowth of oleander, mingled with
boulders of gray marble, made it difficult to

THE RUINED AQUEDUCT 197

ascertain correctly. This fine work appears to
have conveyed water to the town, at the time
when Mitylene was a splendid and important city,
by a succession of gaunt pillars of masonry, some
of which still remain, according to a system of
waterworks said to have been imported by the
Arabs ; similar water-towers are still in use in
Stamboul, in connection with the aqueducts and
the ' bends ' of Bagtchekeuy and Belgrade.

[ I98]

MOLIVO AND PETRA.

I PREPARED for an excursion to Molivo, the ancient
Methymna, attended by our old and faithful
servant Panayoti. To say that we hoped to
start at a given time would be paying too great
a compliment to the little coasting-steamer Mabel,
whose wandering and erratic programme took her
between Cavalla, Porto Lago, Dede Agatch,
Imbros, Tenedos, Molivo, Mitylene and Smyrna,
therefore we were ready, and — waited : we waited
several hours beyond the time officially announced,
and finally reached our destination, Molivo, by
ten o'clock at night.

One large boat came alongside from the
Custom House ; it was soon heaped high with
bales of merchandize, upon the top of which
the few passengers were expected to perch, and
afterwards to undergo a lengthy and vexatious
examination of our very small amount of luggage.

MOLIVO AND PETRA 199

There being nothing in the nature of a hotel at
Molivo, I had been provided with a letter to a
certain Kyrio Stavrides, one of the superior
merchants of the place. The better part of the
town is built up the precipitous slopes of the hill
on which the castle stands, and, guided by a boat-
man, acting also as porter, who preceded us with
a dusky lantern hung at the end of a stick, we
began a rough and very steep ascent towards the
twinkling lights that sparkled out of the darkness
high above our heads. It was a frightful experi-
ence, up and up, and sometimes over, great
boulders of rock.

The road seemed roughly cut in the face of a
precipice, with little or no protection on the down-
ward side ; but still struggling upwards, by many
a sharp turn and winding, we reach, at length, our
destination, and knock at the door of a good-
looking house. Some dogs bark fiercely at this
unusual clamour ; it is near midnight, and at first
there is no response : then louder knocks, and a
girl's voice from some unseen window inquires the
reason of the disturbance ; afterwards a man's
voice from above, and then a white-clad vision
appears in the half-open doorway ; he looks at the

200 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

letter, says 'Welcome,' reads a second time, com-
prehends the situation, and with a sigh retires, to
give place to the mistress of the house. All these
unfortunate people have been roused from their
sleep, and yet, although I am a stranger and
totally unexpected, the greatest hospitality and
kindness is shown most ungrudgingly ; their best
drawing-room is at once turned into a sleeping
apartment, and poor weary Panayoti accommo-
dated somewhere among the rooms on the ground
floor.

The next morning showed a glorious view of
mountains, above a fertile and beautifully culti-
vated plain and richly wooded slopes. The house
of Stavrides, nearly on the highest part of the
town, stands close to the boundary of the old
Genoese castle of Molivo, built on more ancient
foundations, and on a cluster of immense black
crags that are the beginning of a chain of basaltic
rocky heights, that extend across the island as
far as Kaloni. I find it stated that some traces
of the ancient walls of Methymna may be dis-
covered on the south side of the mountain, with
the ruins of a great tower and of a bath : the
town of Molivo clusters on the side towards

MOLIVO AND PETRA 201

the water, and at the foot of these grim volcanic
rocks.

An old French .cannon is shown in the en-
closure of the fortress, how obtained it is not
stated, but there are few vestiges of ancient Greek
work ; here and there merely some fragments of
columns and a capital.

We descend towards the plain and, crossing a
picturesque old bridge, follow the bed of a small
stream bordered by oleanders, pink and white, till
we reach the edge of the sands of the seashore,
where masses of lilac-coloured ' everlastings,' great
tufts of broom in flower amongst the crags, and
a large garden near at hand full of the flame-like
pomegranate blossoms, made up, with the sapphire
sea for background, a quite bewildering maze of
exquisite colour ; above these twisted branches of
pomegranate, fig, and wreathing vine, rose the
great mass of the Castle summit, veiled by the
haze of evening into a tender tone of violet
gray, against a glowing sky of crimson and
orange cloudlets, that melted as they floated away
into the pure radiance of faintest green and
azure.

As in duty bound, we visited the schools of

202 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Molivo, of which there are two for boys and one
for girls : the boys have the advantage of going
afterwards to Athens or elsewhere for further
instruction, but it seems that the education of the
young maidens of Methymna is sadly rudimentary.
It is doubtful if they know — or knowing, would
appreciate the fact — that Arion, the celebrated lyric
poet, was a native of this place, and the subse-
quent legend (according to local authorities) that
he was borne on the back of a friendly dolphin,
playing on his cithara and singing, to his home ;
witness a charming little painting in the Louvre
(French Gallery), where the dolphin is gazing up
at his unusual burden with a fervour of ecstatic
delight. Then again, were not the head and
the lyre of Orpheus buried somewhere between
Molivo and Cape Sigri, where the lyre con-
tinued to enchant the very rocks and stones, and
the head of the unhappy victim of the Thracian
furies gave forth utterances of such surpassing
wisdom, that even the Delphic oracles were
neglected in their favour ?

In these prosaic days the vines and the fig-trees
of Molivo are of the highest importance ; the
famous Lesbian wine, so celebrated in ancient

MOLIVO AND PETRA 203

times, was especially cultivated in this district ;
in the present day it is esteemed as good and
strong and very pure, but strangers object to the
native custom of colouring it with elderberries,
and of washing round the casks with strongly-
scented aromatic herbs, in order, they say, to
preserve it.

The figs also of Molivo are in great request ;
all fruit, indeed, grows in these parts in great
abundance, and considerable quantities are
exported from Mitylene to Constantinople and
Egypt, as well as vegetables, cheese, fish of many
kinds, and formerly oysters to the nearer ports.

On the other hand, wheat, barley and all bread
stuffs are imported, and they receive and consume
a large amount of salted food from Russia,
Marseilles and the shores of the sea of Marmora.

We started the next morning very early, and
on foot, for Petra, a town on the opposite side of
the deep bay of Molivo. The descent into the
plain was fearfully rough, but once on the high-
road one could appreciate the good work that had
been done there before earthquake and neglect

204 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

left it ruined in many places ; it was no one's
business to keep it in order, therefore even the
smooth way had soon to be abandoned for a stony
horse-track across the mountain slope, and amongst
rough crags and clusters of lilac ' everlasting,' by
very rustic way-side fountains, by the ruins of
a small chapel overshadowed by wild fig-trees, we
made our way towards Petra. The rough path
had fallen in in many places, and it was evident
that a considerable subterranean passage wound
along between Molivo and Petra ; one frightful
chasm breaking the direct line of way was
especially dangerous : it was near the summit of
the pass, after which we began to descend a wild
cascade of rolling stones towards the shore, then
by an equally painful progress among reeds and
sand we reached at length the goal of our expedi-
tion, Petra.

The little town stands on the shore at the
'extremity of a fertile, richly-cultivated valley ; the
town itself is on the level of the~sea, but in the
centre of it rises one huge solitary mass of gray
rock, surmounted and crowned by the church ; in
the background a noble range of mountains
stretches across into the interior of the island.

MO LIVO AND PETRA 205

The ascent to the church is by a well-kept
easy stairway ; here and there, to give greater
width, masses of stone have been clamped on.
On the platform one sees the belfry, the so-
called bell consisting of a plank of sonorous
wood, struck by a mallet ; this method of call is
still very much used in remote places throughout
the East.

Two old women of some semi-religious order
had charge of this rock-built church of Petra ;
one of them wore a black serge dress, with a
leather and brass belt ; she was a merry old soul.
The building did not appear to be very ancient,
probably of the time of the Genoese occupation,
as a monumental stone, bearing the arms of the
Gatelutzi, is set in the pavement of the church.
The arms and emblems of this princely Genoese
family are found in more than one spot in
Mitylene ; on a funeral slab near an ancient
church, now a mosque, one may see an escutcheon
and an almost effaced Latin inscription round the
border ; something of the same is found also on
the walls of the Castle. It was at Mitylene that
Constantine, the last Christian Emperor of Con-
stantinople, espoused the daughter of Notares

206 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Gatelutzi, the last Christian prince of the island
(1442 A.D.).

There are a few curious old paintings in this
church of Petra, and a very beautiful Bishop's
throne, carved in wood by a workman brought
over from Aivali, but the most remarkable feature
is a well down at the base of the stupendous rock,
which is reached by an awful descent of steps
from the pavement ; the water of it is said to be
very good : it should possess some compensation
for the terrible necessity of drawing it under such
difficulties.

We wandered through the Tscharchi, noticing
in many places the ruin caused by the last great
earthquake, remarking also that the reputation of
Petra for pretty women was not exaggerated, and
after a long rest in the hospitable house of some-
body's relation — I did not clearly make out the
connection — we set out on our return laden with
great bunches of the lilac 'everlastings/

On the third morning we were~ to leave on our
return to Mitylene by the early (?) steamer ; it
was announced to call at Molivo, probably at
about 7 a.m. ; accordingly I rose at 5.30, and
waited the whole day ! It was impossible to stroll

MOLIVO AND PETRA 207

out of the house lest the summons to embark
should come suddenly, so the time was passed in
spasmodic attempts at conversation with my kind
hostess and with her mother, a very .sweet-
mannered, sensible old lady, who had brought
with her a pet dog, a hairy little creature called
Callirhoi.

Towards evening it was decided to take leave
of our hosts, and to descend to the neighbourhood
of the landing-place to wait for the steamer.
These kind people were in a position which made
a direct offer of repayment impossible (the actual
outlay occasioned by my short stay may have
amounted to two or three shillings), and on my
urgent inquiry as to what suitable present I could
send back from Constantinople, which might I
hoped give them pleasure, I, with considerable
difficulty, arrived at the conclusion that what my
host would most willingly accept would be — a very
good fowling piece !

We descended to the landing-stage, sat there
a few hours, until, utterly worn out, I took refuge
in an upper room of the little cafe, very simply
furnished with a mat, and I was contemplating
the probability of passing the night there, when

208 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

suddenly in the street there is a great shout,
a wild rushing of feet — ' Ah, ah ! Make haste,
lady ! The boat ! the boat !' The boatman rushes
up in intense hurry ; we embark in trembling
haste, to wait on board a whole hour before starting,
at midnight, and to reach and land at Mitylene
at dawn.

[209]

IN CRETE.

THE AKROTIRI.

A SANDY road ; it is bordered on the right by
gigantic aloes in full blossom ; on the left by the
cluster of white, flat-roofed negro dwellings, that
glow in the rays of an almost tropical sunrise, in
sharp relief against the azure expanse of the Medi-
terranean ; the aloes hedge, with its mast-like
flower-stalks, ceases abruptly, and the sandy level
is covered with the straw and reed huts of an
Arab village ; Arab women and negresses pass
along, balancing water-jars or large bundles on
their heads ; their many-coloured draperies wave
in picturesque flickers about their dusky limbs,
and the arm which is raised to draw together the
tattered semblance of a veil is laden with bangles
and tawdry bracelets ; little blackies and brownies
tumble amongst the sand heaps ; a native of

210 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Benghazi is following the same road with a well-
dressed man from Tunis. My guide is an Italian,
and the only individual of this motley group who
may be fairly called a genuine native is the
Cretan groom of the powerful Cyprian donkey
that I am riding ; for we are in Crete, starting from
Canea in the early morning of a brilliant July day
to visit the caves and monasteries of the rocky
headland of Cape Melee, known as Akrotiri.

I had reached the island a few weeks previously
by the Austrian steamer that touches first at
Rethymo, where it waits for an hour or two out-
side the harbour (now unusable for large vessels),
and later, pauses below the massive bastion that
appears to guard the once important arsenal of
Candia, where the winged lion of St. Mark still
clings to the crumbling wall, and some rusty, old-
fashioned cannon that may have lain there — who
knows ? — from the time of the Venetian occupa-
tion, are heaped beside fallen blocks of masonry
on the narrow quay. In the outer harbour of
Canea, the boat of the Austrian Lloyds finds, at
length, but a restless and insecure anchorage.

The little African colony near which the road to
Akrotiri passes was originally brought here by

THE AKROTIRI 211

Mehemet AH of Egypt in the earlier part of this
century. An attempt was made some time back
to remove all the Arabs into houses of brick and
stone, and much money was subscribed for the
purpose, as also for the opening of a school for
the benefit of the half-naked little ones ; but it is
evident that the advantages of instruction are of
small value in their eyes when compared with the
fascinations of street puppies and mud-pies, while
their parents cling to their native sand and mag-
nified beehives, so that these well-meant efforts at
civilization have been, and are likely to remain, a
failure.

Leaving Africa Minor behind, we find ourselves
winding upwards towards Khalepa, and, in spite
of the sun, which in these Southern countries is
almost as burning at its rise as at its meridian, the
air is deliciously cool and bracing, scented by the
thyme, myrtle, balm, basil, mint, and a multitude of
aromatic plants, among which the pungent aroma
of the 'lavdanum' predominates: the 'lavdanum' is
a sort of cistus, yielding on the twigs and leaves a
highly fragrant gum, which is collected by whipping
the shrub with leather thongs. This gum is used
in medicine ; it dissolves in spirits of wine.

14—2

212 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

We do not enter the village of Khalepa, the
residence of most of the European consuls and of
the wealthy merchants, but, leaving its gardens
and vineyards on the right hand, pass below the
walls of a curious fortified Venetian house, now
used as a rough homestead, and continue to mount
the broad expanse of scrub and heather which
stretches upwards towards the frowning rocky
masses of the Akrotiri.

From the first height above Khalepa a beautiful
view of Canea, called Khania by the natives, is
obtained ; the colouring of the landscape is
exquisite : the waters of the wide bay, in the early
morning intensely blue, become later in the day
of a delicate sapphire or pale opal tint, and on
this pure mirror the line of Venetian walls, built of
the bright yellow earth of the country, encircles
a cluster of white and pale amber-tinted houses,
surmounted by many domes and snowy minarets.
Beyond the city to the left, and at a short distance
from the coast, the orange and -olive groves and
vineyards are dotted with sparkling villages, until
the higher foliage ceases among the gorges and
shrub-clothed uplands of the first line of hills ;
towering above them rise the grand masses of the

THE AKROTIRI

' White Mountains ' of Sphakia, clothed in snow
during several months of the year ; to the west-
ward the view is bounded by the bold promontory
of which Cape Spada is the north - western
extremity, and in the pearly diaphanous haze of
the northern horizon you trace the faint outline of
Santorino and of other islands of the Archipelago.
We could not linger to admire this beautiful
panorama ; the way lay before us long and shade-
less ; the road itself, indeed, soon ceases and
becomes a mere horse-track among shrubs and
boulders of blue-gray rock. We are beginning
to climb now in earnest ; even the horse-track
has ceased, and a faintly-trodden pathway among
the heather leads round and often over the
boulders. The Cyprian donkey is a tremendous
animal, and well accustomed to this excursion ;
but the struggles at the sharp zigzag turns are
terrific ; my stout Cretan guide is forced to exert
his utmost strength to aid the struggling animal ;
and so, scrambling, pushed, and encouraged, my
very long-eared steed has gained at length the first
plateau. The way is still utterly shadeless, but
the mountain herb-scented breeze comes so re-
freshingly, and a grove of olive-trees in the

214 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

distance has such a hospitable look, that we take
fresh courage and trot on. The young Cretan, to
enliven our progress, discourses on the marvels of
the surrounding country. There are many ruined
monasteries and chapels dotted about ; their
destruction dates from the Greek war in the early
part of the century. One group of buildings,
surrounded by trees at a short distance from the
road, appeared in good repair and inhabited ; it
proved to be the chapel and holy spring of St.
Anthony. Georghi says that many sick people
go there, and after a short stay return to their
homes cured ; feeling, as I do at the moment, the
pure health-laden breezes that are sweeping across
the plateau, I think this result highly probable,
but Georghi prefers to think it miraculous.

We are gradually nearing the cypresses and
domes of the monastery of Aghia Triadha, on
the second plateau, and in answer to some in-
quiries about the community, Georghi states that
in former times this monastery was very rich, and
that the reverend fathers were the terror of the
country round, pillaging the unhappy peasantry,
and committing all sorts of * sheitanlik ' (devilry).
Now, owing to some tax, which considerably lowers

THE AKROTIRI

215

the pulses of the monastic revenues, they have
become a quiet and respectable body. He says
that the whole community is locked in at night.
While I am wondering whether this may be a
measure of precaution through fear of robbers
from without, or of ' shei'tans ' from within, Georghi
hastens to explain that * at the present time this is
a good community of monks.' As they now number
only twenty-three, they may still be called pros-
perous, in spite of taxation ; they possess large
tracts of olive-grounds and vineyards ; they are
very charitable to the poor, and in the season of
the olive gathering employ sometimes as many as
a hundred and twenty women to get in the
harvest.

We have entered the shady groves of the
monastery; for, as elsewhere remarked, the Cretan
olive is a tree of great size, the heavy branches,
laden with an abundant foliage, forming broad
canopies of grateful shade. The near approach
to Aghia Triadha is by an avenue of tall cypresses,
a lofty flight of steps leading to the principal en-
trance. A black-robed monk, quickly observing
our little cavalcade, comes forward to welcome
us, and to lead the way through the strong gate

216 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

in the fortified enclosure. The building appears
to date from the time of the Venetians ; it has
been well kept up, and probably enlarged since
then. Many cottages and outbuildings are scat-
tered in the vineyards and gardens round about,
but are only inhabited during the daytime ; at
night all retire to the shelter and security of the
monastic fortress.

The chapel, a handsome building occupying
the centre of the large quadrangle, is decorated
interiorly in the usual style of Greek churches,
with abundance of gilding and bright colours,
Byzantine heads of saints, and a profusion of
carving in wood, very beautifully executed, the
work of a native artist. There are several smaller
chapels, some forming part of the principal build-
ing, others detached. There was one to which
the young Cretan guide, very anxious to ' do ' the
honours of the place, insisted on leading the way ;
it was a small domed building at the extreme
angle of the enclosure — a bare, rough-looking
room, with little in it except some planks and
trestles, and a glass case fixed to the wall, con-
taining two skulls, said to be those of the foun-
ders of the monastery; a door on one side was

THE AKROTIRI 217

opened, showing a large dark closet very like a
coal-hole ; some pieces of board and an over-
turned barrow lay on the top of a high heap of
what seemed like a fair provision of dry olive
roots and sticks for winter firing ; and while in-
wardly wondering that so small a detail of domestic
management should be exhibited as one of the
sights of the monastery, it was explained that we
were gazing on the mortal remains of past gene-
rations of monastic fathers, taken up from an old
burial-ground and thrown together in this irreve-
rent manner, to await the construction of a fitting
mortuary, which is, they say, commenced. I am
inclined to think that the poor old bones will
wait indefinitely.

It was a relief from the mouldy, unhallowed
bone-house to pass back into the court, with the
vine -garlands throwing their flickering shadows
about the pilasters and galleries of the quadrangle.
One wing of the building is prepared for the re-
ception of guests, as it is very usual for families to
come from the town during the hot season and to
spend some time on this breezy plateau. The
guest-rooms looked clean and inviting, the striped
native coverlets and padded * yorghans ' all neatly

2i8 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

folded and ready for use. In a pleasant room on
the ground-floor the sweetmeats and coffee were
politely offered by a deacon and by a serving
' brother ' ; the hegumenos was absent, and it
appeared that some change in the government of
the monastery was in contemplation.

The dress of these Cretan monks is much the
same as that of the Greek priesthood elsewhere :
a long black robe with wide sleeves, and a black,
brimless hat ; their hair is long, sometimes stream-
ing over the shoulders. Our guide over the
monastery was a young man, tall, fair, and very
slender ; he wore a faded lilac scarf, loosely
wound about the waist of his rusty black stuff
dress ; his weak-looking, wavy curls and his slight
figure, swaying like a reed, formed a curious
contrast to the dark, strong, tight-looking little
deacon, who wore his coarse thick plait of
jetty hair snugly tucked out of the way under the
black cloth cap. There was another member
of the community, who came quietly in, with a tall
wand in his right hand, a very little old man, who
had been in the monastery longer than anyone
could remember. He was so small that he
seemed to hitch himself with difficulty on to the

THE AKROTIRI 219

divan beside the deacon, where he sat silently
staring at me, with twinkling, bright-blue eyes ;
his great age had probably emancipated him from
the monastic costume, as he wore a short cloth
jacket and a pair of monstrous black - leather
boots.

All Greek religious establishments in this island
are subject to the Patriarch of Constantinople, and
the revenue accruing to the patriarchate must be
considerable, as they reckon as many as thirty
large monasteries in Crete, beside a great number
of smaller religious communities.

Our entertainers were exceedingly hospitable,
offering all the resources of the place — cooked
fowls, mutton, wine (their wine is locally cele-
brated), or, in short, anything that could be
named ; but the opportunity for sketching was
too precious to be wasted, and having brought
some provisions, I made my way through the
vineyard to the grateful shadow of a line of
almond-trees, on the border of the olive plan-
tation. The benevolent intentions of the good
people were not, however, to be checked, and
presently appeared an attendant neophyte, bear-
ing a well-furnished tray — fried fish, cucumber

220 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

salad, toasted bread, and an abundance of fruit,
all very nicely arranged on clean white napkins.
So my Italian attendant and Cretan Georghi sat
down on their heels, sociably, with the deacon and
one or two hangers-on, and regaled themselves,
while the reed-like ' brother ' wandered among
the almond-trees, plucking the young fruit, and
presently poured into my lap an offering of milky
almonds ; he had cracked them, I was thankful
to observe, with a stone, and not with his teeth,
according to a not unusual manner of native civility
on similar occasions.

It was great ' kief,' resting in the cool shadow of
those almond-trees, gazing on the quiet monastery,
backed by the gray heathery mountain slopes, the
utter silence only broken by the good-humoured
voices of the feasters round the tray, by the tinkle
of a distant goat's bell, or by the dry, creaking
sound of a tall cypress swaying in the breeze. I
could have gladly lingered here till sunset, but
there was much more to see before our day's work
could be accomplished, and especially the stalactite
cavern, on the further slope of the mountain, to be
explored. To reach this spot it was now made
evident that yet another guide was needed ; in

THE AKROTIRI 221

these countries guides collect as you go on like
rolling snowballs. He came forward after some
delay, a jolly-looking, very sturdy peasant monk,
bearing a huge key, and mounted on a stout
mule ; he looked equal to anything in the way of
mountain climbing or cavern exploring; so, leaving
with the deacon a present for the servants, we
took leave of the good fathers of Aghia Triadha,
and began once more the scrambling, stumbling
progress among the boulders, crushing out sweet
odours as the animals trod down the great lilac
tufts of blossoming thyme and heather. The
aromatic plants that clothe the surface of the
Akrotiri are held in such esteem by the peasantry,
that beehives from the villages of the plain are
often brought here for change of food. A peculiar
kind of sage grows in these parts, called by a
French writer sauge a pomme ; the natives drink
an infusion of the leaves ; it has a stronger scent
and flavour than our sage tea, and is accredited
with great medicinal virtue. My young Cretan
at once stuck a large sprig of it behind his ear.

After winding up our difficult way for about
half an hour, we enter a narrow cleft of the
mountain between walls of rock, in some places

222 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

scarcely a few yards apart, a wild cascade of
boulders, with sharp turns at every few paces,
till, emerging from the chasm, we gain a stony
plateau, where, in the centre of a few meagre
fields, stands the desolate-looking convent of St.
John the Baptist. One patch of pale-green corn,
and three stunted wind-blown trees, do little to
relieve the forlorn aspect of the spot, the highest
point of the promontory of Cape Melee.

Like all the convents here, as indeed generally
throughout the East, St. John's is fortified by a
crenelated wall, flanked by square towers at each
corner, and with machicolated balconies as an
additional means of defence. From the exterior
nothing is visible above the wall but the summit
of the dome of the chapel ; the aspect of the
place softens as you pass through the low arched
gateway. A tiny garden and a dripping fountain
enliven the approach to the chapel, and a very
cordial old lady hobbles forward with a kindly
welcome. She is the mother of one of the priests,
and there are younger women (one of them very
pretty), who gradually appear on the scene, offering
quince jelly and coffee, which I take, seated in a
homely little chamber on one side of the court.

THE AKROTIRI

223

The families of the married priests of the Greek
Church usually dwell in the quadrangle, and in
detached cottages in the gardens and vineyards ;
the monks, such as the community of Aghia
Triadha, take the vow of celibacy.

It is difficult to understand why this place
should be called a convent, for there was certainly
nothing conventual about it. Six individuals
seemed to represent all the human life of the
establishment : the priest, a middle - aged man,
newly come into this solitude ; his wife, a gentle-
looking pale woman, suffering from fever ; the
priest's old mother, too deaf to engage in verbal
civilities, who nodded and smiled from a low stool
in the corner of the room ; the two young girls
already mentioned, and a sort of peasant priestling
hovering round about, made up the number of the
community defended by the fortified walls of the
monastery. The barren plateau had been enlivened
a few days previously by a gay crowd of pilgrims
gathered here to celebrate the festival of St. John;
but the last stragglers had departed, and for
another year an almost unbroken silence has fallen
on the stony desert.

The church in the centre of the court is, like

224 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

most of the churches in the island, of Venetian
origin ; it was unfinished at the time of the
conquest by the Turks in 1669, and has since
remained in the same incomplete state ; the
columns intended for decoration had risen but
a few feet from the pavement, and truly the loss
of their upper proportions is not to be regretted,
as it would be difficult to meet with anything in
worse taste than the clumsily florid style of the
sculptured bases ; but the interior of the church
is worth a visit, as the wood carving, extremely
rich, delicate and correct both in design and
execution, is due to a native of the village of
Khalepa.

With a provision of tiny wax tapers we start
once more upon our travels, having added to
our company Guide No. 3, who conducts Guide
No. 2, who shows the way to Guide No. i, who
is leading me ; for now we leave the animals
behind, as goats alone of four-footed creatures
could be expected to master the difficulties of this
track, a rugged defile leading towards the shore
of the eastern slope of the Akrotiri. The jagged
rocks, the boulders, and the aromatic herbs once
more, but intensified, and requiring frequent

THE AKROTIRI 225

pauses — for breath in the first instance, then for
admiration, for it is most beautiful ! On the left
hand an almost perpendicular cascade of rocks
and shrubs conceals the bottom of the ravine ;
the opposite rise of the mountain is softer ; here
and there a tiny enclosure and some faint traces
of cultivation cluster round a rude hut of branches ;
or a dark hole in the mountain side, a desolate
stony lair, marks the retreat of some extinct
hermit ; the faint tinkle of a goat's bell reaches
us from the midst of the heather, and the black
and white and gray and tawny spots are slowly
dotting the stern surface of the picture. These
are not the genuine wild goats of which the race
is said still to linger amongst the White Moun-
tains of Sphakia : they are a semi-civilized flock,
and we come upon their home a few minutes
later, as, turning abruptly to the right and down
a steep plunge between a rude stone fence and
the high granite crags, we are suddenly at the
mouth of a dark cavern, and within sound of fresh
human voices : two goatherds and the pretty
girl from the convent above are joking and
laughing over a great cauldron of fresh-drawn
milk, as if life were a very gay affair in that

15

226

OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

desolate solitude. They are busy making curdled
milk, but I rescue a glassful before the curdling
has commenced, and pass on to examine the
wonders of the place called the Cave of the Bear.
A small rock-hewn chapel forms the entrance,
which is sufficiently wide to give a view of nearly
the whole extent of the cavern, a lofty, irregular
rotunda, vaulted, and in part walled in with
stalactites ; one great mass, partly rock and partly
stalagmite, rises nearly in the centre ; it has a
rough likeness to a huge bear, standing up and
bending over a square tank of water, built in by
a stone wall, said to be of great antiquity. The
legend of the place avers that the unlucky beast,
having come in veritable flesh and fur to slake
his thirst at the ice-cold waters of the subterranean
fountain, was then and there punished for his
audacity, and turned to stone by the presiding
saint of the little rock chapel. I took a sketch of
the sinner, and, returning gladly to warmth and
daylight, found the little group still busy with
their curds and whey, the great cauldron simmer-
ing over a wood fire, built in a corner of the outer
cavern, and presently (the curds having been
ladled out and set to drain) it was borne away by

:">«*. Jfe

RUINS OF KATHOLICO, AKROTIRI.

THE AKROTIRI 22;

the stout youths to a hole in the ground, where
the good sweet whey was thrown aside ; then,
with the merest apology for a rinse, the process
of making curds was begun again upon a fresh
quantity of milk. The method pursued is prob-
ably much the same all over the world, but the
essential quality of cleanliness so dear to the true
English dairymaid is held in small esteem by her
Christian sisters in Eastern lands.

The sun beat fiercely on our heads as we
stumbled down the rugged descent towards the
last and most remarkable of the objects of the
day's excursion, the ruined and abandoned convent
and the vast stalactite cavern of Katholico.

The way was very precipitous, but presently
a turn amongst the crags brought us in view of
the sea, with the refreshment of the cool breezes
sweeping up the narrow gorge ; a staircase hewn
in the face of the precipice leads downwards by
one hundred and forty steps ; from the middle of
the ladder-like descent the remains of the great
monastery may be seen, partly hidden in foliage
and tangled creepers, far beneath in the gloomy
ravine ; a chapel here, a ruined archway there ;
strong buildings in decay ; a broad bridge and

15—2

228 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

archway spanning the awful chasm ; on its rocky
sides more cells of hermits among the wild vines and
brambles, for the gorge, plunged in eternal shadow,
is richly clothed with vegetation that relieves
in some degree the utter desolation of this solemn,
world-forgotten spot. It teems, alas ! with bloody
memories, for in the rock-hewn chapel of St.
Elias, on the inner side of the ravine, twenty-four
monks were murdered during the Greek War of
Independence, and at all times the community, once
numerous and important, were exposed to attack
by brigands and pirates, who made their way up
the gorge from the neighbouring sea-shore, till at
length the monks of Katholico, greatly diminished
in number, and dispirited, abandoned their weird
solitude, and took refuge on the scarcely less
desolate but yet less accessible desert plateau of
St. John, on the summit of the mountain. In the
stone pavement of the archway that spans the
ravine a dark square hole is shown as the entrance
to the prison for refractory brethren.

We prepare to enter the stalactite cavern, each
one of the party holding a lighted taper. We follow
our sturdy guide through a narrow passage and
over vast masses of slippery stalagmite ; then,

THE AKROTIRI 229

squeezing with difficulty through a rocky cleft,
come upon an open space, where it is possible to
breathe and to admire the immense stalactites
pendant from the roof ; but the light of our feeble
tapers is quite insufficient to produce the spark-
ling reflections which one expected. I can just
discern that some of the columns are white and
fresh-looking, while the greater number present a
dirty gray or black surface. The heat is stifling ;
the slippery, rounded masses threaten at every
step or scramble to shoulder you off into the inky
pools of unknown depths from which they grimly
emerge ; the rushing of unseen cascades trembles
through the still atmosphere, and the vast
stalactites gleam, ghost-like and uncanny, through
the shuddering darkness. The cavern winds on
far into the heart of the mountain, but I decline
to explore its utmost limits, and am contented to
struggle to the spot, about halfway, where a great
twisted stalactite, fallen down on the verge of a
black watery hole, is (according to my guide) the
punished form of a monstrous serpent, which had
writhed itself there to drink at the uninviting
source. The legend does not explain how the
serpent should have existed there at all, unless he

230 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

may have been of a very ancient race, as another
legend declares that St. Paul, at the time of his
visit to Crete, banished from the island all snakes,
reptiles, wolves, jackals, and every sort of venomous
and noxious creature.

Another legend relating to this same cavern I
will give in the words of the narrator, Guide No.
2, as we had crossed the plateau of Aghia
Triadha. ' The saints in these parts,' said he,
' are very powerful. I will tell you a curious thing
that happened in the cavern of Katholico, which
is, you know, a long hole in the earth — so long
that no one has ever seen the end of it, and there
are great dreadful pools of water, so that anyone
that goes in without a light can never get out by
himself. Well ! there was the festival of St. Elias,
and once a year all the people from the country
round go to Katholico to pray in the little rock
chapel of St. Elias, and some go into the cavern
with one who knows the way, and with tapers.
It happened long, long ago, that there was a poor
man amongst the crowd who had no taper ; he
was very poor and weary and tired, and he went
to sleep upon one of the great stones, and so he
came to be forgotten, and was locked in. Well,

THE AKROTIRI 231

see how wonderful this was : when the next
year's festa came round again, some people as
usual went into the cavern, and there they found
this poor man still alive, but he was white — white
—as white as snow, and thin like a skeleton, but
still alive ; and they brought him out to the air
and light, and little by little his colour came back,
and he got well.'

' And he had eaten nothing for a whole year ?'

' Oh, nothing ; there was nothing, but the saint
had kept him alive, and he got quite strong
again.'

On leaving the cavern for daylight and thyme-
scented air, we bore away from near its mouth
several beautiful fragments of spa and crystal ;
then, climbing the precipitous steps, we stopped to
rest a moment at the Cave of the Bear ; but the
rest was very brief ; the sinking sun gave warning
to hasten our return to Canea, and, again, for the
last time, we toil wearily upwards, merry voices
echoing from the mountain side, as the girl and the
goatherd come tripping along, bearing between
them the heavy basket of cream-cheese, for the
benefit of St. John's Convent.

Near the eastern angle of this building two

232 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

stunted olive-trees have grown into the most
fantastic shape, from the great force of the wind
rushing through the narrow cleft of the moun-
tain.

The descent of the steepest part of the way
was made on foot, our guide from Aghia Triadha
leaving at the first plateau, and we heard the
trot of his mule long after his good-humoured
face had disappeared in the deep slanting shadows
of the olive grove leading back to the monastery.
We pushed on bravely, and, with rest and coffee
at a little wayside establishment at the base of
the mountain, finally reached Canea about an
hour after sunset, very weary, but delighted with
the day spent among the crags and gorges of the
Akrotiri.

[233]

GHONIA.

IT seems but yesterday, although a few years have
flown by since that bright time, that, during a
visit to the wife of Reouf Pasha, then Vali of
Crete, the plan of an excursion towards the
western shores of the island was arranged for
us by this courteous 'and enlightened Governor,
who promised an escort, a tent, and every
possible facility for our little journey.

We were sitting in the large 'sala ' of the konak,
or Government House, overlooking on three sides
the harbour, the blue expanse of the Mediter-
ranean, and the distant headland of Cape Melee;
through the open windows came the health-laden
breezes of that exquisitely pure atmosphere, un-
tainted by smoke of railway engine or factory
chimney — breezes perfumed by countless aromatic
plants that cover the wild stretch of common
beyond the city. We could trace the roads bor-

234 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

dered by aloes and cactus and blossoming bay
and myrtle ; the ravines, bright streams of rose-
coloured oleander ; and all the further spread of
the plain — a dense mass of orange and olive and
mulberry groves, the golden crosses of the monas
tery of Chrissopighi gleaming through the dark
foliage at the foot of the Rhiza.

Crete, out of the line of modern travel, is seldom
visited but by a passing yacht, or on the occasion
of the anchoring of some ships of war in Suda
Bay; then Canea wakens up, and festivities on
board and on shore enliven the place ; but these
visitors seldom extend their excursions much be-
yond the city and its immediate environs, and
have brought little or no change to the more
distant parts of the island.

The preparations for our excursion had been
rather elaborate, and the little cavalcade issuing
in early morning through the western gate com-
prised, in attendance on Miss Y and myself,

a captain of gendarmerie, two zaptiehs, two ser-
vants, and two baggage horses, with their 'suredjis,'
one of the horses bearing the tent.

The way is a burning, shadeless track, as we
wind along the moat of the Venetian fortifications,

GHONIA 235

but the colouring of the picture is a great com-
pensation : the massive bastion of reddish-yellow
brickwork relieved against the softened green of
a mound of aloes and prickly pear ; beyond, a
patch of yellow sand borders the intense blue
of the Mediterranean ; the pale lilac tone of the
mountain range that ends in Cape Spada bounds
the western horizon. We forget the burning heat,
and soon the winding road takes us under the
shade of a few trees, as we pass through the
picturesque but melancholy leper village. Many
victims of that hideous malady, most of them
wrapped in great hooded cloaks, the hood drawn
down, sit under the trees, or crouch by the way-
side, begging, more as a semblance of occupation,
in most cases, than from necessity, for a liberal
allowance of bread is regularly made by the
Government, and many of the lepers own property,
the proceeds of which are brought by their friends
and placed on a stone of the well that stands in
the centre of the cluster of square whitewashed
huts. A man on horseback, holding a little child
in front of him, passes by ; the child shows no
appearance of the fearful taint that must inevit-
ably declare itself as he grows older ; but the

236 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

hands that grasp the little plump, rosy form,
have lost nearly all the fingers, and the feature-
less face of the unhappy father is almost hidden
by the deep-shrouding cowl. The prevalence of
this particular form of leprosy is attributed — in
Crete — to the great quantity of salt fish and olive-
oil consumed by the peasantry.

We have passed the leper village, and are
crossing a well-cultivated plain, bounded always
on the left hand by the beautiful foot-hills and the
majestic snow- crests of the Sphakian mountains ;
we gradually approach a more wooded region, and
at length, reaching the village of Alikianos, we feel
stifled amongst the dense foliage of orange and
olive groves. An orange grove in these parts-
its poetical associations notwithstanding — is by no
means, on nearer acquaintance, always the scene
of enchantment dear to the poetic mind. On
level ground it is dull, and unquestionably stuffy ;
nothing grows in the dark shadow of the heavy
canopy of leaves, therefore the bare ground is
varied only by the small ditches surrounding the
black trunks for irrigation, and the whole is en-
closed by an uninteresting stone wall. An orange
garden on a mountain slope, as at Harothia,

GHONIA 237

where the trees drape the hillsides with a natural
luxuriance of blossom and golden fruit, is charm-
ing to the stranger, though less productive, and
therefore less satisfactory, to the owner of the
beautiful wilderness.

An olive plantation in Crete is infinitely more
picturesque than the orange enclosure ; the trees
here, dotted about the fields, grow to an enormous
size, with shady, drooping boughs, and foliage of a
much fresher tint of green than those of Southern
France or Italy. Some trees sketched above Peri-
voglia, during another excursion, will give a slight
idea of the majestic proportions of the Cretan olive.

As we wound along the airless and sultry lanes
of Alikianos, we found that the caimakam of the
district, warned of the approach of the party, had
ridden forward, followed by his secretary, to invite
us to his fortified konak on the summit of the
hill. It is a stiff climb, but we are repaid by the
splendid view from the battlements of the sur-
rounding country, and refreshed by lemonade
and English biscuits. The whole of this part —
frequently under water in the winter — is very
feverish ; two or three of the soldiers of the small
garrison — although the castle is raised above the

238 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

level of the marshes — were suffering unmistakably
from this terrible scourge of ill-drained lands ; but
the conditions of existence seem to agree wonder-
fully with the orange-trees, which are, they say,
the finest in this part of Crete.

Starting afresh — our cavalcade increased by
the caimakam, his secretary, and a few soldiers
on foot — we followed for some distance the nearly
dried-up bed of a torrent. It was intensely hot ;
the 'sun's rays, reflected from the sandy sides of
the gully, and thrown up from the shingly bed
of the watercourse, made the atmosphere almost
unendurable, and it was a relief to find, as we
descended the valley, that some streams of water
must be crossed, giving an impression, if not an
actuality, of freshness. One of these proving
a little deeper than usual, a soldier jumped up
behind Mario, the groom, who was riding ; but
the poor animal, already loaded with panniers, and
thirsty, like all the rest of the party, stops in mid-
stream, tries to drink, unsuccessfully, so he quietly
subsides, flat, and rolls to get rid of his impeding
burdens. We hear a shout, a splash, there is a
confused struggling leap over the animal's head,
Mario's blue cotton legs and the soldier's dingy

GHONIA 239

cloth all in a tangle as they reach the shore,
saluted by shouts of laughter and a declaration of
no harm done.

We pass above Platania, once famous for its
gigantic plane-trees, and here the caimakam,
having performed to the utmost limit the cere-
monial escort of the parting guest, and exhausted
all his compliments, takes a polite leave. We
continue our hot progress for an hour or two,
until a turn across a vineyard towards some
spreading olive-trees brings us to shade and rest.
We are on the outskirts of a small hamlet ; it is
decided to pass the night there, and the best
cottage in the place — a new building — is hastily
made ready. The room appears clean ; there
are finely -embroidered bed -curtains, and very
handsome rugs of home manufacture, many-
coloured, striped, and ornamented, hang from
a beam suspended from the roof ; but all this
promising appearance is sadly belied by the un-
desirable presence of children, fowls, and a big dog,
all difficult to expel, and by the immovable fact
of a large heap of old rags, with some fleeces
of uncleaned wool, lurking treacherously in a
corner of that tempting-looking resting-place.

240 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

The next day, Sunday, was a weary time of
waiting for our baggage-horses, which had gone
on to another village, but they turned up at last,
after ample leisure had been afforded for examining
the groups of peasants sitting under the trees,
with some slight improvement in dress, in
deference to the day, but none whatever in the
matter of cleanliness. It is a not uncommon
prejudice with Eastern Christians to consider
cleanliness as in some way an attribute of the
Moslem, and therefore to be avoided by the
Christian population.

Once more we are on our road to the monastery
of Ghonia. It had gradually developed, as we
approached, from a tiny white sparkle at the foot
of the distant mountains to the appearance of an
important cluster of buildings ; but the light failed
long before the end of the day's journey, and a
great part of the way was a stumbling advance
in the dark, chilled by heavy dews suggestive of
fever and ague.

A most hospitable reception at the monastery
soon consoled us for past tribulations ; indeed, the
worthy hegumenos, who superintended the ar-
rangements, was overwhelming in his anxiety

WITHIN THE MONASTERY, GHONIA.

To face p. 240.

GHONIA 241

that we should be warmly covered. The night
was sultry ; the time midsummer. He had placed,
first, a thick woollen quilt, doubled ; then a large
Sphakia blanket, also doubled, after which he
inquired, with real solicitude, whether it might
not be advisable to add a 'poplema,' or padded
quilt !

In the morning, by mutual agreement, it was
decided to give up the more extended scheme of

travel, my friend Miss Y preferring to return

to Canea, whilst I was to remain till the following
day, to sketch some of the picturesque environs
of the monastery, the captain of gendarmerie
remaining also as my escort back to Canea.

The church and monastery of Ghonia are
amongst the few that have escaped spoliation
during the terrible struggles that have so fre-
quently desolated this beautiful island ; therefore,
many of the pictures, although not beautiful, are
old and curious ; the profuse abundance of wood-
carving is remarkably fine. The mountain rises
abruptly behind the principal mass of buildings ;
the houses for the married priests, clinging to the
steep slope, among orange and olive trees and
great boulders of rock, are square, flat-roofed, gray

16

242 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

stone dwellings, most effective subjects for the
sketcher.

A little way up the hillside you reach the head
of a small gully ; immense flowering reeds are
springing upwards from the bed of the unseen
rivulet, and from this point the finest view of the
wide sweep of the bay is gained, above the white
domes and glittering crosses of the monastery.
Canea, dimly seen in a blue and purple haze,
appears to ride on the calm, azure-tinted sea.

Dinner in the room assigned to me would have
been a quiet and solitary repast, but for the
appearance of a witch-like, ancient dame, who
hobbled in unbidden, sat on her heels beside the
tray, and muttered what sounded like a long
string of complaints, resolving itself into an
earnest desire for backshish. The poor old
creature — she was an evil-looking old lady — con-
tinued to wail and lament, until, pacified by the
offer of a few copper coins, she finally consented
to depart, and to leave me in peaceful enjoyment
of the small, strongly-barred window that over-
looked the terrace, with the soft lap of the tideless
sea at its foot, and the shimmering band of silver
moonlight stretching towards the vague horizon.

GHONIA 243

It is difficult to realize that this peaceful spot has
been more than once the convenient landing-
place for men and arms, sent to keep alive the
disastrous warfare and struggles for which Crete
has an unfortunate notoriety.

The Cretans have peculiar notions of the fitness
of things, and of the uses to which English
courage and enterprise may be turned for the
benefit of their island. I was present one day
when a certain vehement and hot-headed patriot
endeavoured to enlighten our English Consul as
to the special mission of England in the East.
'Why cannot your country,' said he, 'act with us
as with the Ionian Islands : take Crete, put its
affairs thoroughly in order, make it rich and
prosperous, and then — simply hand it over to
Greece ?'

I left Ghonia on the following morning,
attended by the captain, a careful and con-
scientious servant of the Pasha ; a very pic-
turesque young Cretan zaptieh, and Said, a negro,
on the baggage - horse. We took, in return-
ing to the city, the more direct road skirting
the bay, which led over many a dry bed of a
water-course, a mingling of shingle, oleanders in

1 6 — 2

244 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

full bloom, aromatic shrubs, and tussocks of grass
and heather. In a small village on the way
peasants were lounging listlessly about with
swarms of children, very idle. The captain tells
me that Reouf Pasha has established schools in
many places ; has sent schoolmasters, and takes
much personal fatigue and trouble in his anxiety
to carry through this effort at improvement, but
the people (unlike the Greeks of Attica, whose
best quality is their eagerness for learning) will
not send their children to profit by the oppor-
tunities offered. The captain is quite eloquent
in praise of the Pasha and in blame of the idle
peasantry, as we plod on and on through the
sand, sprinkled with oleanders and an occasional
olive-tree.

I am mounted on a pack saddle, raised upon a
heap of rugs and felts, making a decidedly un-
steady foundation, which is not greatly aided by a
loop in a rope serving as stirrup ; and there is
nothing to speak of in the way of pommel, but
the pace never quickens beyond a slow walk, so
that the progress, while very fatiguing, is not
dangerous, although the old gray horse shows an
unfortunate tendency to stumble, and seems as

GHONIA 245

glad as the rest of us when a halt is made under
the rustic shelter of a roadside khan, which throws
a few yards of shade across the burning sandy
track. Here we rest awhile, refreshed by a glass of
pure cool water from the little fountain ; then on
again, more sand, more dry beds of rills, until we
reach a band of cultivation, and the large cafe of
Platania.

An empty room on the upper floor has a rough
balcony overlooking what the natives of Canea
dignify with the name of cascades ; it is a mill-
race, the water rushing and foaming through three
arches, amidst a wilderness of overhanging, leafy
boughs ; the floury miller is busily brushing out the
room. I retreat to the balcony, shaded by thick
vine-garlands, and enjoy, in delightful contrast
with the glaring plain, what in the East is
emphatically known as one form of ' kief ' — rest
in cool shade, beside running water. You must
live in the East to appreciate the importance of
water in an Eastern's conception of rural enjoy-
ment ; they will take you through a beautiful
garden, such as that of Hamid Bay, near Canea ;
but the rich and glowing blossoms, the tropical
plants and shrubs, are, to them, as nothing com-

246 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

pared to the ' havouz ' — a square tank of rather
muddy water in front of a small pavilion.

Our horses needing the rest of an hour or two,
and my captain also being glad of a long gossip
with the master of the khan, I set off, followed by
the young zaptieh, in search of the plane-trees,
much vaunted by some writers, but they seemed
to belong altogether to past history. A large fig-
tree stretched its heavy arms invitingly in a good
situation for the sketch of a village that climbs up
and crowns a tall gray crag. Pashley calls this
the site of the Cretan Pergamos ; it is a cluster
of square stone houses with flat roofs surmounting
a fine sweep of olive-trees that drape the foot of
the rock and spread across the landscape.

A Greek papass following his plough in a
neighbouring field leaves his oxen to inquire what
may be the point of interest to the stranger ; he
fails to understand, and I leave him, mystified, to
go on my way through a narrow lane bordered by
fields and orchards of mulberry, fig and walnut—
the hedges are of aloes. Here and there I come
upon a group of peasants in the leafy shade wind-
ing silk, the beautiful golden hanks hanging from
the branches, the man doing the easier part, the

GHONIA 247

winding, while the woman turns the heavy wheel.
In many places there are cabins of boughs and
flocks of snow-white sheep clothing the pleasant
picture.

An ancient-looking Greek church on the
summit of a high peak at a short distance seemed
to invite inspection, but the way upwards between
masses of rock, calcined by the burning sun's
rays, looked appalling. We reached, however,
the rocky platform of Platania, and from a yard
or two of shade cast by a projecting crag, looked
down upon the brown island of St. Theodorus,
with its deep indentures or caves of intensely red
earth, floating on a sea of liquid sapphire ; the
pale headland of Akrotiri bounding the horizon
on the right hand. By a tortuous descent on the
other side, a cascade of rocks serving as highway,
we reach the fields, where, under the shade of
some fine walnut-trees, I sketch the lovely scene,
while my gay - looking attendant, the young
zaptieh, enjoys an interesting conversation with
a young maiden of Platania, who is drawing water
at a shady fountain. The whole scene is so soft,
so exquisitely beautiful in outline and colour, that
it is difficult to turn from it and to regain the

248 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

khan, the pack-saddle, and the sandy road ; but
one more short period of rest on the balcony
above the gushing waterfall gave renewed energy
for the last part of the little journey. The
khandji's reckoning was more than moderate —
for a luncheon of fried eggs, bread, cheese and
coffee, served twice, and for the use of their
best room and balcony for a great part of the day,
I was asked to pay about fivepence.

The road now follows for a short while a pretty
lane, which ends all too soon, and once more
we are plodding along the open stretch of shore-
sand, deep sand, varied by great stones and rocky
boulders ; but we are nearing home. The sand
at length ceases, and we wind among the vast
olive gardens below,two fortified villages gleaming
white through the thick masses of foliage, the
larger especially (Theriso) looking in the distance
like a fortified palace standing in a magnificent
park. We pass between the scarlet earth-cliff
and the tchiftlik of Macri-teico (the Long Wall),
and, turning eastwards, the Rhiza opens out to
reveal the White Mountains, rising majestically
with their snowy crests aflame in the rays of the
sinking sun, and so, threading once more the way

GHONIA 249

through the leper village, we pass the fortifications
and alight in the court of the convent, which is
our temporary home in Canea.

Before leaving the island I go to the enclosure
of the military hospital, to sketch from thence the
inner harbour and the ancient Venetian arsenal,
with the noble range of lofty vaults built for the
Venetian, galleys, now mostly in ruins ; then,
passing onwards to the Arab village, I quickly
gather a wondering little crowd of black and
brown children, with a sprinkling of men and
women of almost every race to be met with in
this corner of the Mediterranean. First, a tall
Egyptian, having gazed wonderingly at my
enigmatical manoeuvring with book and pencil,
appears suddenly enlightened, constitutes himself
manager of the crowd, and suggests subjects. A
wonderful old Arab, very tall, and entirely
wrapped in a fearfully dirty blanket, is made to
understand that he must remain quiet for a few
minutes ; he glares at the proceedings in a defiant
manner, and when done, retires, stately. A passing
Greek is pressed into the service ; he is self-
conscious, and twists his hands and legs into
attitudes ; then a negro with a water-jar comes on

250 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

the scene ; the attraction of a piece of money
steadies him for a moment, while a handsomely-
dressed Tunisian, advancing to see what the
gathering means, declares vehemently that he will
not be drawn, and I only catch the flow of his
creamy bournous as he disappears amongst the
wattled enclosures. There are a few negresses,
and endless clamorous children ; one mite, wrapped
in some grown-up garment, with long hanging
sleeves, presses to the front to stare with beady
eyes through her ragged uncombed mane ; a still
smaller brown specimen ignores the proceedings,
entirely absorbed in the possession of a rosy
apple. All my subjects get coppers, till the purse
is empty and I retire, still guarded as far as the
highroad by the intelligent Egyptian, and followed
by the group of youngsters, who had found the
business of model lucrative, and strongly urge a
renewal of the diversion.

[ 25I ]

THE DANUBE AND THE BOSPHORUS.

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872.

IN connection with the recent imposing cere-
mony, the opening of the Iron Gates of the
Danube, through which vessels may now pass
with the speed and rush befitting the end of this
nineteenth century, it may not be unwelcome
to older travellers to recall the calm, leisurely, and
rather torpid manner in which that famous passage
—and, indeed, the whole journey westwards —
was undertaken, and by many enjoyed, nearly
a quarter of a century earlier, long before the
present through system of railways existed in
Eastern Europe.

After many years of unbroken residence in the
East, I have started once more westwards to

252 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

spend the summer months in the cooler climate
of France and England. In these days of
excursion tours and general wandering, the
endeavour to relate one's adventures on such
familiar tracks might look like an impertinent
attempt to ' hold a farthing candle to the sun '
of many another wider and better experience ;
but these experienced travellers are, almost
without exception, such as come to our old-world
countries full charged with their own notions
of progress, and ready to judge everything ac-
cording to their recognized standard ; one can
therefore venture to hope that there may be some
attraction of novelty in the impressions of an old
English dweller in the dreamy East going back
into the midst of the eager, restless, hurried life
of Western civilization.

And the Danube route through Europe,
although so often followed, has been, until lately,
rarely described either way.

I left Constantinople in the Austrian boat
carrying the mails to Varna. It was in May, at
which time of the year, with us, the weather is

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 253

usually delightful ; but we had already been
suffering from intense heat and an unusual
drought, so that the shores of the Bosphorus were
prematurely taking their summer tint of russet
and yellow, and the beautiful Judas-trees, which
should have been still glowing with their
wonderful blush of rosy blossom, had turned to
ordinary masses of green leaves before their
time.

We reached Varna early on the following
morning ; but the arrival at our destination did
not imply that we were at rest. The calm, the
peace, the gradual return to the interests of life,
with a due solicitude for the care of our be-
longings, usual on such occasions, was not. We
had arrived, and the rolling of the steamer, the
pitching and tossing, were infinitely worse than
before ; for Varna has no harbour, and we were
at anchor in an open roadstead in a rough sea.
The preparations for landing ; the descent into
a crowded boat by the help of two sailors, who,
watching the moment of its rise to the ladder,
jumped you in all in a heap, before it sank into
a hopeless abyss ; the pouring rain under which
I sat, utterly limp and helpless, till a compas-

254 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

sionate neighbour, seeing me feebly grasping a
closed umbrella, opened it, and placed it in my
hand ; the great swelling waves, tossing the boat
up and down like an overladen nutshell — all these
do not provide ' sunny memories ' of travel by any
means, and they are miseries which would have
no existence if the project of a harbour, long in
contemplation and so sorely needed for this much-
frequented port, could be carried out in earnest.
This system of embarkation in the dreaded
Black Sea is positively dangerous for ladies and
children when it takes place at night in stormy
weather.

They were obliged to land us at a rickety
wooden scala — the ordinary landing-place for the
town — instead of at the jetty belonging to the
railway, so that a further progress had to be
endured on what, by a figure of speech, is called
dry land ; it proved to be a succession of mud-heaps
and pools of water, through which the drenched
passengers waded, in a very broken procession,
to the train waiting to carry them on to Rustchuk.

Before we started many of my fellow-sufferers
seemed to recover their spirits, even to the degree
of laying in little stores of provisions for the

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 255

journey ; it spoke well for the elasticity of
their constitutions that they contemplated sand-
wiches favourably, and could even think with
composure of a light refreshment of bread and
country cheese ; for little else could be procured
at the so-called refreshment-room, except weak
greasy broth and weaker tea. A good Samaritan,
a young traveller whom I had slightly known at
home, made little excursions between the carriage
and the buffet, bringing me these mild restora-
tives, and though I was still too ill to benefit by
them, I felt the comfort of the kind care, and shall
not easily forget it.

The neighbourhood of Varna is prettily wooded
and undulating, with hedges surrounding the
pasture-land and cornfields. The crops looked
green and healthy, and did not appear to have
suffered from the drought which, we heard, had
almost ruined the vast tracts of corn on the further
bank of the Danube. On the hill above Varna
are several tumuli, similar to those near Kustenji
on the plain of the Vardar, beyond Salonica, and
in many other places ; they are said to have been
left by the Goths, and subsequently used as
' beacons.

256 OLD TRACKS AVD NEW LANDMARKS

The railway runs for some distance between a
long narrow lake and richly-wooded hills, with
occasional patches of open cultivation, and here
and there a sturdy-looking cluster of farm build-
ings or a little village. The rocky cliffs which
for many miles overhang the valley on its eastern
side are remarkable for their exact resemblance
to ancient masonry, or fortified places with battle-
ments and embrasures. There is the genuine
ruin of a castle on one of the hills ; but the
illusion is carried on for an immense distance,
and for picturesque effect is quite as satisfactory.

Many of the stations on the Varna and Rust-
chuk line are rural and pleasant-looking. We
passed the Schumla Road station — reminding one
of the Crimean War — and one or two others with
strange names such as Shaitandjik (the Devil's
Place), etc. As you approach the Danube the
rocky hills and cliffs disappear, and for a time
the country becomes rather flat. It is remarkable
throughout for an agreeable absence of tunnels ;
you have the satisfaction of feeling as you pass
along, at a not very alarming rate of speed, that
you see pretty well all there is to be seen, and
are well content to reach the mighty river at a

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 257

point a short distance from the considerable town
of Rustchuk.

This part of Turkey has a prosperous, cultivated
look, testifying to the industry of the Bulgarians,
the hardiest and most laborious of the Sultan's
subjects. The railway must be of unspeakable
advantage to the proprietors of the land, and yet,
like all things new, in old-fashioned, out-of-the-way
places, it has its bitter enemies, both biped and
quadruped : the two-footed animals are fond of
putting obstructions on the rails, and the buffaloes
that occasionally take a fancy to wander about
at their will are an obstacle no less dreaded and
dangerous. Sometimes the sturdy patriarch of
the herd, feeling perhaps his responsibility, will
take upon himself to make a furious charge at the
two fiery eyes staring at him with such unblinking
intensity, and though his poor life is sacrificed, he
probably succeeds in giving a dangerous check to
the supposed enemy.

There is no sort of hotel at the Rustchuk station,
which is at a considerable distance from the town,
and tourists are here, as in many parts of the East,
dependent on the hospitality of their countrymen.
I found this most needful shelter and rest in the

17

258 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

home of the director of the line, where, although
I was unexpected, and personally a stranger, I was
welcomed with most considerate kindness, and
enabled to recover thoroughly before embarking
on the longer, though infinitely less fatiguing,
portion of the homeward journey.

It was pleasant to sit in the pretty morning-
room, watching — beyond an acacia-shaded terrace
—the lazy flow of the Danube, along which a black
' schlep ' was heavily passing ; or the bright little
steamer running busily to Giurgevowith passengers
for Bucharest, or, again, a large Austrian boat
beating upstream from Galatz and Ibraila, with
sounds of gay music coming faintly across the
water. On the opposite shore there is a long
stretch of reeds and osier ; further back, em-
bosomed in trees, the roofs and spires of Giurgevo,
bright and pretty enough at a distance. 'A
railway now connects this place with Bucharest.

Rustchuk is fortified ; but the town when you
enter it has a mean, untidy "look, and the in-
habitants, in their everyday clothes, look more
dirty than picturesque.

After a day's rest my kind host took me in
his carriage to the landing-stage, where I hoped

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 259

to meet on board my friend Mrs. W , from

Galatz, who was also going westwards. We had
agreed to travel together, and as the Szechdnyi
steamed into view7 from the reedy distance, I saw
with great satisfaction my dear friend's kind face
anxiously scanning the crowd that waited on the
wooden ' scala ' ready to embark.

We were travelling by what is called the ' slow
service ' instead of by the accdlMs steamers,
which at this season were sure to be crowded to
excess. We had deck - cabins, and not being
anxious to push forward at the utmost attainable
speed, we were fairly comfortable, finding that
the slow service has the advantage of show-
ing you more of the .life and manners of the
countries through which it passes, as it stops
at all the small stations along the river, taking
up or setting down all sorts of passengers and
goods.

The Szechtnyi was not at all crowded. I
secured a delightful little deck-cabin ; its windows,
looking in two directions, might have commanded
charming views, but for the slight drawback that
there is absolutely nothing to be viewed. Any-
thing more dreary and uninteresting than the

17—2

260 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

northern or Wallachian shore of the Danube it
is difficult to imagine : a flat mud-bank barely
stemming in the yellow, sluggish-looking stream,
yet just high enough to shut out any vista beyond
it ; a scant covering of grass, which later in the
season will be dry and indistinguishable from the
muddy soil. At long intervals a Wallachian guard-
hut, a small square block with a thatched roof and
a high pole reared beside it, is the only object
which for leagues and leagues stands against the
sky, and breaks the horizontal line of mud-banks
and water ; the thin grass, a few reeds, and the
guard-hut, over and over again for nearly two
days after leaving Rustchuk. The prospect was
not teeming with interest. I was prepared for this,
having already twice travelled by this same route ;
but I knew that the Bulgarian shore is infinitely
more varied, though not sufficiently fascinating to
induce one to gaze at it through the windows of
the great saloon, fast closed, and crowded with
smokers, the deck being impossible from the
heavy rain, for the water, so long desired, was now
bursting in floods and waterspouts over a great
part of Europe. Rustchuk, immediately after
my visit there, was nearly half destroyed, and in

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 261

Hungary, Bohemia, and elsewhere, whole villages
were swept away or inundated.

Our fellow-passengers were not of the class
usually met with on the accdlMs steamers, which
are crowded with rich Russian and Wallachian
families on their way to the German baths, with
a sprinkling of Greeks from Constantinople, of
English, and of tourists from everywhere. Our
temporary neighbours were chiefly middle-class
Moldavians and Wallachs, or, as they now
prefer to style themselves, Rouman ; there were
some Bulgarians also, and Servians, embarking
for small distances, and taking only a saloon
passage. In addition to this motley group, we
were much interested in watching a very respect-
able party of Mussulmans, consisting of a * cadi/
or judge, on his road to a new appointment at
Semlin ; some friends accompanied him, and the
little party appeared to be in charge of an indi-
vidual whose social status was not very clear ; he
looked like a Kurdish brigand chief, a powerful,
swarthy man, wearing an aggressive turban, an
enormous belt of formidable weapons, and gigantic
boots ; his voice was loud and strong, but his
manners were softer than his aspect, and he was

262 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

certainly inclined to look upon the surrounding
' ghiaours ' in a conciliatory spirit. The cadi, a
fine, grave-looking personage, very quiet and
gentlemanly, was dressed in a loose cotton robe
and furred pelisse, with wide cloth trousers, a
broad shawl girdle, and a spotless white turban—
the old-fashioned Turkish costume ; one of his
friends wore the green turban of a descendant of
the Prophet, the others were not remarkable in
any way.

A Wallachian family, occupying deck-cabins,
were also going on with us for some distance.
They were three in number : an old lady wearing
an immense white hood, covered with a white
veil, and showing on hands, arms and throat a
vast abundance of jewellery ; her husband, elderly,
silent and unobtrusive ; and a handsome sickly-
looking nephew, who fortunately spoke French
tolerably well, and, being very obliging, helped
us to keep in check the charges for 'dabls' (a
supposed rendering of the idea of a * table-d'hote '
dinner), and other hieroglyphical entries in the
waiter's account. The rich aunt was on her way
to Carlsbad ; the nephew was going to Brussels to
complete his studies.

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 263

The cadi and his fellow - Moslems, although
perfectly sociable and friendly, did not eat with
us : they had brought their provisions, and were
served by their own people with caviare, hard
cheese, yaourt, olives, and some very greasy hot
dishes. The unusual life did not seem to agree
with the poor cadi, for on the second day of our
progress he lounged about very disconsolately,
looked the colour of saffron, and was said to be
suffering from a very bad headache. Towards
evening we found him in solemn consultation with
the old lady of the white hood ; she was feeling his
pulse, examining his tongue, shaking her head,
and making desperate attempts to prescribe ; but
as neither party understood the other's language,
it was rather difficult. However, Mussulmans have
great faith in the medical knowledge of ancient
dames in general, and the cadi submitted, being
made to understand by signs that he was to
imbibe a great part of the contents of an ominous-
looking medicine bottle produced from amongst
the treasures of the old lady's cabin ; it did not
seem to have effected a cure, however, for he
looked the next morning just as yellow as before.

The tea and coffee on board these boats are

264 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

bad and very limited, but we were far too well ex-
perienced as travellers quite to rely upon chance in

the all-important matter of tea. Mrs. W had

wisely provided herself with an etna, spirits of
wine, tea, sugar, biscuits, and a few other little
luxuries, so we felt independent of waiters and
badly boiled water, and having nothing enjoyable
to look at abroad, consoled ourselves with after-
noon teas, as prolonged as possible. Mrs.

W 's little daughter, a great pet of mine and

a most delightful little companion on a journey,
bright and gay, and gifted with a quick perception
of the beautiful in Nature, made occasional sallies
to report anything worthy of attention on the
opposite shore ; but there was nothing beyond now
and then a distant village, a solitary farm, or a few
men fishing on the Turkish side, while the weary
Wallachian mud-bank continued unbroken ; so we
rested, and read a little, and looked at our watches
a good deal, and discussed our fellow-passengers,
wondered what the next steamer would be like
(we were to change boats next day for the
formidable passage of the Iron Gates), wondered
what our friends were doing at home, wondered
whether our cosy little party would float down the

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 265

Danube together again in the autumn, worked a
little, found the weather intensely hot, and finally
grew very sleepy, until roused by the preparations
for dinner.

Such a state of semi-torpid existence would be
intolerable if much prolonged, but for those (and
it is a common case) who may be seeking change
and rest after an overstrain of mind and body,
the utter far niente is, for a day or two,
decidedly beneficial. This river voyage is cer-
tainly the best method of beginning a journey ;
you have not to dread the suffering which, for
many, renders a long sea passage almost im-
possible ; you can expect no letters, consequently
no disappointments, no visits, no news from the
outer world, no excitement ; you are in a sort of
dormant grub state, gathering strength and
energy before bursting into all the flutter and
hurry and bustle of the life of cities, and the
shrieking rush of railway locomotion.

The table-d'hote dinners are good and well
served. You have excellent soup of two kinds,
the unfailing sturgeon, and a plentiful supply of
preserved fruits to eat with the roast ; tolerably
good poultry, a variety of vegetables, a sweet

266 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

dish, and a very liberal dessert of fresh and dried
fruits. The charge is by no means excessive.
I have the account by me, in which I find
' r dabl i gulden 60 K.' ; in paper-money, about
three and a half francs.

In the course of the evening we passed Widin,
and soon afterwards our course became for a
short distance northerly. Our left-hand bank
ceased to be Bulgaria, and we were skirting the
Servian Principality. The boat stopped for a
few hours during the night, starting again in the
early morning. In due time I looked out. My
cabin window faced the north. There was the
interminable mud-bank just as before ; on the
Servian shore the same slightly hilly, rather
pleasant country ; but as the morning wore on
shadowy blue forms of lofty mountains mingled
in the far distance with the sky in front of us.
Far away land-cliffs, with trees and hints of an
occasional village, could be seen above the mud-
banks, which in times of flood are often sub-
merged, the water covering the whole flat country
up to the base of these cliffs. Soon the Danube
itself 'became more animated. There were more
schleps ; a steamer passed ; there were floats in

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 267

the water, marking the nets laid down for the
sturgeon ; next we saw a black mill or two in the
middle of the stream, and several men intently
fishing ; a few buffaloes gazed at us from the
muddy bath in which they revelled ; there was
always the solitary guard-hut with its pole. But
gradually the desolate horizon narrowed ; the
distant cliffs became more graceful ; trees grouped
themselves ; we began to feel crowded ! several
schleps toiled slowly against the current ; another
busy steamer paddled hurriedly down the river ;
floats everywhere ; more black mills busily at
work. We aroused from our dreamy torpor to
the animation of labouring, moving life. Signs
of cultivation, fields, orchards, and cottages, were
on either side. Our steamer wound its way
carefully amongst a crowd of schleps and steamers
and boats of all sorts, and we were thoroughly
awake ; for here was Turno-Severin, and the
flat-bottomed boat was waiting to take us through
the Iron Gates.

Before reaching the town, you remark two
broken arches of very heavy masonry, the remains
of Trajan's Bridge, and, within the limits of the
place itself, a large enclosure of lofty trees is

268 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

pointed out as a remnant of the primaeval forest.
Ruins of an imposing-looking Roman tower rise
above the foliage.

Great quantities of sturgeon are taken at
Turno-Severin ; it is said to be the finest in the
river, and has been known to weigh as much as
100 okes (about 280 lb.).

We did not land here, but passed at once to
the small boat which drew up alongside. The
luggage was piled on the little deck, while the
passengers bestowed themselves as best they
might in the low-roofed cabin until the rain,
happily abating, allowed us to take up our station
at the prow, which is quite the best place for the
full enjoyment of the magnificent scenery of a
part of the Eastern Carpathians through which
we were about to pass.

Our progress was at times very slow. The
river boiled and foamed all around ; a multitude of
black, jagged, wicked-looking rocky points rose
through the water on every side. It required the
most careful and experienced steering to carry
the little boat in safety through this intricate
passage ; but the pilots thoroughly know their
road, and I do not remember to have heard of a

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 269

serious accident to any of the passenger steamers
in this difficult part of the Danube. In the
autumn, when the waters are much lower, the
steamers are given up entirely between Turno-
Severin and Orsova, and travellers are carried
along the northern bank in carts and country
vehicles of every degree of roughness ; some-
times, also, these conveyances are used beyond
Orsova for another portion of the river, which is
full of eddies, though less difficult than the cele-
brated Iron Gates.

In ancient times the Romans, under Trajan,
had constructed a road along the entire bank of
the Danube. In places where the perpendicular
wall of rock rises straight out of the water the
road had been carried on upon great beams
driven into the mountain, and overhanging the
river, partly supported on an excavated ledge or
shelf. The holes from which these beams pro-
jected may be clearly traced for a considerable
distance on the face of the now inaccessible
cliffs.

The scenery on either side of the pass is
extremely grand : superb masses of gray crag,
clothed with the richest and most varied foliage,

27o OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

which falls into a leafy wilderness in the clefts
and dips of the summits, veiled and almost lost
in the fleecy clouds that hurry wildly across the
narrow glimpse of sky above. No sign of human
habitation breaks the stillness of these primaeval
solitudes. An eagle swooping down a ravine,
the shadow of a passing cloud, the leap of a fish,
the thrill and wash of eddying water, increase
instead of breaking the deep hush of nature ; and
the impatient beat of our engine, the hum of
conversation, the expression even of admiration,
seem out of place and jarring on this solemn
peace.

Sometimes a bend of the river showed more
distant forest-covered peaks, blue and vaporous ;
then, again, the giant wall of rock seemed almost
to engulf us, with no vista beyond the crowning
fringe of forest but the gleam of intense blue over-
head.

At length the most formidable eddies were
passed ; the passage widened cm the approach to
Orsova, although the town was still hidden by
a sharp turn of the river, and it was before round-
ing this point of land that a little chapel, half
hidden in a grove of dark cypresses, was shown as

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 271

the spot where Kossuth had hidden for safety the
iron crown of Hungary.

The air was sweet and heavy, with a scent as
of immense hay-fields, long before we reached
Orsova. It arose, we found, from great masses
of a flowering wild shrub growing abundantly
about this part of the shore.

Orsova, a frontier town of Hungary, stands in
a mountainous and beautifully-wooded region on
the northern bank of the Danube, which is narrow
at this point. The opposite shore of Servia hems
in the river with high mountains, clothed with
wood to the water's edge. The little town itself
recalls strongly one of the villages on the Moselle,
with its clean little whitewashed houses, dark,
overhanging roofs and simple church spire,
relieved against the sombre mass of forest back-
ground. Orsova is the place of landing for the
mineral baths of Mehadieh, better known as
Hercules' Baths, at a short distance in the interior.
These sulphur and iron springs have a wide-
spread reputation, attracting many rich visitors,
and the neighbourhood of Mehadieh, where there
is a splendid hotel, makes Orsova, although in
itself so humble, a very expensive place to stop at.

272 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

We landed at the Custom House, the luggage
being carried by extremely black and coaly
Hungarian porters. After a slight examination
we followed our property to the nearest inn,
understanding that passengers could not sleep on
board, as the boats were to be again changed for
the further voyage. They took us to a very
ambitious-looking hotel opposite to the landing-
place ; the master of the house possessed sufficient
knowlege of bad French to let a room at an
exorbitant charge, and as soon as the bargain
was completed, it transpired that passengers were
perfectly at liberty to pass the night in the larger
boat that was going forward the next morning.
We made the best of it, however, determined, if
we had to pay for it, to profit by the rest in a
genuine bed, and also to enjoy thoroughly the
lovely scenery around Orsova.

It is a very bright and happy-looking little town,
clean and cheerful, with a blaze of gay flowers
in the shining windows of air the houses and
cottages : fuchsias, roses, geraniums, etc. ; there
seemed to be a general competition to display
the finest blossoms and the brightest panes of
glass ; many of the windows latticed, shaded by

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 273

deep eaves, or half hidden behind a rustic
colonnade.

Wandering along the quay towards the rural
suburb, we passed two or three inns of small
pretension, but clean-looking, old-fashioned and
infinitely more attractive than our own temporary
dwelling ; it was either a White Horse, or a
Golden Lamb, or a Crown, that charmed us by
its whitewashed columns, latticed windows and
brilliant flowers — a genuine gasthaus, not an
imitation of a French hotel. Passing on through
cool, dewy lanes, we came upon the highroad,
shaded by tall lime-trees ; there was a cross with
its railing hidden in masses of the sweet-scented
blossoms that had welcomed our approach to
Orsova ; the sun, setting in a soft golden haze,
lighted up the beautiful wooded heights on the
Servian shore of the Danube ; peasant girls and
children were bringing water from a roadside
fountain ; sleek cows wandered slowly homewards ;
Wallachian women passed us and stared, and we
gazed at them in return, for the dress is one of
the most picturesque that can be seen. They
wear the long garment of coarse linen with wide
sleeves which is so general in many parts of

18

274 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Europe where women, working much in the fields,
need the free and unencumbered use of their
limbs ; over this a coarse sleeveless jacket, then
a very wide belt richly embroidered with spangles
and colours ; below this, again, a broad flat band,
open at the sides, and also richly ornamented,
from which hangs a heavy woollen fringe a full
yard in depth, a sort of double apron of fringe,
which waves and flows in the most graceful
manner with every movement of the wearer ; it
is usually red, though sometimes of mingled
threads, according to the colours used in the
embroidery of the belt. These women wear
their hair in heavy braids with a small brightly-
coloured handkerchief, bound by a narrow plait
of hair crossing the forehead.

The costume of the men consists of coarse
linen shirts, ornamented with a rude kind of open
work, dark sleeveless jackets, broad leather
belts and loose linen trousers, also embroidered
round the ankle ; black pork-pie hats, with a little
feather on one side, and half-high leather boots
complete the everyday dress ; they are a little
more ornamented for holiday occasions.

Several peasants came on board ; they had

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 275

intelligent, honest-looking faces ; some others also
embarked from small country stations wearing
enormous hats and heavy sheep - skin cloaks—
Sclavonians of the ancient military frontier which
formerly extended from the Carpathians on the
east to Croatia on the north-western limits of
Turkish rule. The inhabitants of this important
tract of country were bound to hold themselves
ready on all occasions to rush to arms in defence
of Christendom against their aggressive Moslem
neighbours, and they were endowed in return for
this half-warlike state of existence with certain
privileges and immunities, and were governed by
exceptional laws. Much of this has been abolished,
as the need of such armed watchfulness ceased,
but the rugged-looking inhabitants have certainly
made little change in the outward man for many
centuries past.

The early sunbeams gilded the beautifully-
wooded summits on either side as we left Orsova,
but our departure was not accomplished without
a heavy tribute to the rapacity of our host, strongly
favoured by our unfortunate ignorance of Hun-
garian or even of German ; so he dashed the
florins and kreutzers into the little account with

1 8— 2

276 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

an unchecked freedom, all the more trying that we
were perfectly aware of the imposture ; it had
twinkled in his eye from the first, but resistance
in French would have only produced an over-
whelming flood of gutturals. The steamer was
whistling frantically ; there was no remedy but
the mild recourse of determining never again to
favour him with our society, and we departed,
soon forgetting our grievance amidst the glorious
scenery around.

The new steamer was larger than the one that
had carried us through the Iron Gates, though of
very light draught, as there were still some hours
of difficult steering in the shallow, eddying water.
The weather was delightful, as if to compensate
in the most interesting part of the river for the
tedium of much of the previous voyage. The
mountains on either side after leaving Orsova
are beautifully clothed with every variety of forest
tree. On the northern bank you find again in
many places the traces of Trajan's road carried
along towering walls of gray rock rising perpen-
dicularly out of the river. The unbroken sublimity
of these massive forms, with no intervening grada-
tion to give the eye the measure of size and

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 277

distance, produced for a moment a singular
illusion. Looking steadily across the smooth
stretch of water upon a stupendous mass of
granite, I thought I saw a tiny object floating at
its base like a child's rough toy-boat ; and while
I wondered how such a thing could be found so
far from human habitation, a slight movement on
the little toy showed a minute gray object, which
for one bewildered moment I could imagine to
be a very small monkey. Of course it was an
ordinary fishing-boat with a full-grown fisherman
looking after his floats near the edge of the
stream, but it was really difficult to force the eye
and brain, filled with the grandeur of stupendous
forms, to a true comprehension of the relative size
of smaller objects.

The Danube was exceedingly shallow in many
parts of the morning's progress, requiring three
or four men at the wheel, and a very slow and
careful advance. There are times and seasons
when the water is sufficiently high to enable the
large boats to perform the whole journey without
change ; at others the navigation becomes alto-
gether impossible, and the vehicles already
mentioned must be used.

278 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

On the northern bank the modern road runs
along with little difficulty, as the land on that
shore rises more gradually, even breaking away
into lovely valleys with meadows and patches of
park-like cultivation. For three hours the scenery
was beautiful beyond description, the wilder
grandeur being on the Servian side of the river,
whilst among the softer beauties of the opposite
side little hamlets nestled in orchards and leafy
copses ; then a kind of Robinson Crusoe hut
appeared perched in an old tree-stump ; peasants
tossed the scented hay ; the broad leaves of the
Indian corn swayed with the breeze, and above
all this the stately forest-clothed summits rising
into the clouds and broken by masses of gray
rock lowered sometimes their sombre crests to
give shadowy glimpses of more distant mountain
peaks. One mountain on the northern bank
rises from an ocean of foliage, a giant cone of
naked granite. It was near this point that we
passed a coal-mine in full work, and it is about
this part of the Danube that the lofty mountain
wall shows a remarkable geological formation,
thrown up as it were in gigantic billows and surging
waves of many-coloured strata. The effect is

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 279

solemn and imposing in the highest degree, and
forms perhaps one of the most interesting features
of the scenery of this noble river.

At Drenco, or Drencova, we again change boats,
embarking on the fine steamer the Ferdinand
Maximilian. The character of the country has
changed considerably, but is still very attractive,
as the river winds about small islands and sharp
points of land. At one moment you see a town
quite ahead ; we are apparently drawing near to
a landing-place. Not at all! The boat gives a
sharp turn, and the town is on your right hand,
then on your left ; finally, we do not approach it,
and the passengers for that destination are landed
on a rough pontoon near a wild stretch of pasture-
land, and you see them mount into the carts,
cabriolets or char-a-bancs, waiting on the bank,
and go gingling away towards the spires and
sparkling roofs that gleam far off through a tangle
of waving trees. Sometimes, however, the towns
stand by the river bank, and we run close up to
them. At one place in Servia, evidently an
important station, a sheep and cattle fair was in
preparation. Great numbers of rude covered
carts wound slowly up and down a steep hill above

28o OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

the landing-place ; all the open space for a great
distance was crowded with flocks and herds, and
some hundreds of Servian and Bulgarian peasants;
men, women and children, picturesque and very
dirty, gazed at us as we gazed at them, and were
mutually gratified, as nearer acquaintance with
those * great unwashed ' would not have been
desirable.

There is somewhere about this part of the
Danube a lofty peak of gray rock rising abruptly
out of the river ; it has some curious legend
attached to it, which, unhappily, we failed to learn.
In the course of the afternoon we passed Se-
mendria, with its grand, irregular, many-towered
old fortress, standing boldly out into the river on
a commanding headland ; two flags were waving
on the principal tower on the side towards the
town : the Servian, large, bright and flaunting,
while the poor little faded Turkish ensign flapped
meekly beside it, quite overpowered and subdued
by its vigorous - looking neighbour. A ruined
Mussulman tomb, almost hidden in a sombre
grove near the fortress, and beyond this a great
natural amphitheatre of sandstone cliff, covered
with trees along the summit, irresistibly recalls

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 281

one of the most fearful incidents in the barbarous
warfare which for centuries ravaged and desolated
this part of Europe ; for it was in such a spot as
this that one of the Sultans came suddenly upon
a spectacle almost without parallel even in the
frightful annals of that bloody period — thirty
thousand men, women and children impaled by
the Wallachian Vlad (justly named the Devil), in
order to strike terror into the heart of his Moslem
conqueror.

Not far above Semendria the boat stopped at
Basiasch, the first point in the grand network
of Austrian railways, and here several passengers
left us, preferring to continue the journey by train.
If speed, however, is not the first consideration, it
is far pleasanter to remain on the river, at least,
as far as Pesth ; it is less fatiguing, and the rail-
way line passes across a flat, open country, hot,
dusty, and uninteresting. We remained on board,
and it was quite dark when the steamer, turning
up the Save, stopped at Belgrade, disembarked
some passengers in the pouring rain, and then
returned across the Danube to Semlin for the
night. In the early morning we steamed once
more to Belgrade, to take in other travellers.

282 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

The aspect of this celebrated city was rather
disappointing ; the fortress, it is true, standing on a
bold promontory, is a striking and picturesque
object in the foreground, but the rest of the
picture is wanting in effect — pleasant and nicely
wooded enough, but not sufficiently undulated for
beauty.

Leaving the Save, once more we pursue our
course, which at first is northerly, then turns
westwards, until, beyond Peterwardein, it runs
straight up due north as far as, and even beyond,
Buda-Pesth.

The left-hand bank of the Danube continued
fertile and pleasant, and the opposite shore again,
for a few hours, flat and monotonous ; but gradually
a more populous part of the country is reached—
towns, villages, and hamlets increase in number.
We stop at several stations, amongst which Car-
lovitz, with its vast monastery and commanding
situation, makes a very fine effect.

We are now in Hungary, and as the frequent
stoppages brought a continual variety and change
amongst the passengers, we had full opportunity of
admiring the tall, slight, elegant figures of many of
the Hungarian ladies; their easy, graceful carriage,

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 283

and the delicate, refined cast of head and fea-
tures ; but these charming women should be seen
in gloves, as their hands by no means correspond
to the elegance of the rest of the person. They
are good useful hands, which, to their honour be
it said, are capable of, and accustomed to, perform-
ing all kinds of housewifely work, but yet, might
they not contrive to preserve a little more of the
softness and charm which Nature must surely
have bestowed upon them ?

Two very pretty Hungarian girls came on for a
short distance from one of the country stations ;
the elder patientlyand very fruitlessly endeavoured
to enlighten my inquiring mind on some questions
of national costume by alternate efforts in Servian
and Magyar speech. It was useless, and I was
fain to content myself with thinking how pretty
she looked, with her clear skin, rich chestnut hair,
and soft, earnest brown eyes, and afterwards
(there was nothing of interest on either shore
just then) I fell to taking mental notes and
measurements of two of the most wonderful,
preposterous, and exaggerated chignons which it
had ever been my fate to encounter. The unfor-
tunate wearers, who had lighted up with all this

284 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

blaze of fashion our sober - looking group of pas-
sengers, came from little country stations. They
held different views on the subject of adornment :
there was the stern and massive style, and the
fuzzy, frizzy, bewildered, uncombed work of art —
this unkempt structure reached by careful mental
measurement a face and a half above the fore-
head of the lady. The severer style of hair
architecture consisted of monstrous braids of
black hair, so massive, so ponderous, that they
seemed to overpower the thin neck and wrinkled
face upon which they were heaped, obliging this
victim of ' fashion ' to sit bolt upright for long
hours ; to recline, or to make any hasty movement,
would have imperilled the whole fabric.

Other ladies around us, more sensibly attired,
were provided with work or books ; for the
scenery here was not varied, the principal feature
of the river being floating mills, black, lumber-
ing objects, with the name of the owner in large
letters on the side ; some were heavily at work ;
some motionless. We passed them at intervals
throughout the day, ten or twelve in a group.

Approaching Buda-Pesth,the Danube is covered
with a labyrinth of uninhabited islets ; we wound

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 285

about them in the most puzzling manner, seeming
to be running in every direction except the right
one. Nothing can be conceived more intensely
mournful, dark and dreary, than these islets-
dense plantations of poplar or willow ; on some,
trailing wild vines break the intolerable uniformity
of the sombre outline ; more often they rise from
the water, a serried mass of heavy foliage, sup-
ported by perfectly upright meagre tree-trunks,
that look bare and pale and ghastly against the
impenetrable gloom beyond. The only objects
to vary this depressing stretch of river scenery
are the black mills again, and again, and again.
We were heartily glad when desolate jungles and
black mills became alike indistinct in the gloom
of night, and the steamer anchored for awhile at
Mohatch.

Matters had decidedly improved the next morn-
ing. We had made some progress, and now
villages, cottages, habitations seemed to pass
along in a moving panorama on either side of
the Danube. We landed or took in passengers
all day, until late in the afternoon we reached the
termination of our long river voyage, and landed
on the quay at Pesth.

286 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

We went at once to the Grand Hotel Hungaria,
a really beautiful building, which has arisen to-
gether with a whole row of splendid mansions on
the new quay, where exactly ten years previously
I had seen merely open ground between the river
and the city ; but, as everyone knows, Hungary
has since that time gained a great political
triumph in crowning her King in the capital of
her ancient and warlike country ; and the new
buildings, the animated streets, the prosperous-
looking shops, the stirring life into which the
traveller is so suddenly plunged from out the
dreamy existence of the river journey — novel and
bewildering though it may be at first — make a
strong impression of the healthy impetus given
to energy and progress ; for pictorial purposes,
however, I liked the place better in the former
time.

The Hotel Hungaria is furnished with all
appliances of the highest civilization : electric
bells, speaking-tubes, tiny boy waiters in dress-
coats and white ties. It seemed very strange at
first, the constant roll of vehicles — to us an almost
forgotten sound — the brightly - lighted, central
glazed court, the glittering supper tables, the

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 287

flowers and shrubs, the gay, bustling scene. It
appeared to wipe out, for the moment, years of
our quiet Eastern life. As our rooms looked into
this court, it was amusing to watch for awhile the
different groups of feasters, both ladies and gentle-
men ; the busy waiters and pompous little boys,
hurrying about in all directions, balancing three or
four different dishes on their arms, popping corks,
taking orders, or insinuating advice to some forlorn
foreigner lost in the hopeless mazes of a German
carte. It was like looking down upon a panto-
mime ; but one evening's entertainment is quite
sufficient ; the glare, the noise, with the heavy
vapours of rich sauces with which the heated air
is charged, were sickening and oppressive.

A few hours of rather desultory rambling the
next morning showed many changes and improve-
ments both in Pesth and in Buda. In front of
the suspension bridge may be remarked a small
mound ; four short paths, bordered by stone
parapets, lead to the summit, which is, indeed,
raised but slightly above the level of the roadway.
This is the artificial mound composed of earth
taken from all the different parts or counties of
the kingdom, and it was here that the Emperor

288 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

of Austria went through the final ceremony of
his coronation as King of Hungary. He had
received the iron crown and the ancient mantle
of St. Stephen in the church of Buda, and,
crossing the suspension bridge wearing these
royal emblems, took certain oaths of fidelity as
the guardian of Magyar liberty before the town-
hall. After this ceremony, he urged his some-
what restive charger up the coronation mound,
turning him, whilst he waved the sword, suc-
cessively towards the four points of the compass.
Wandering in a labyrinth of winding streets,
between handsome houses and brilliant shops, we
enjoyed thoroughly the unaccustomed pleasure of
walking on flagged foot-pavement, and of admiring
the sturdy dray-horses, with their fine harness
ornamented with plates of brass scrupulously bur-
nished ; many parts of this harness are as light
and elegant as those used for English carriage-
horses. On the occasion of my former visit to
Pesth the appearance of these handsome drays
had made a great impression. At that time,
also, the Hungarian national costume was almost
universal. The man who served you from behind
the counter wore top-boots, ornamented tights, a

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 289

braided buttonless jacket, and a long beard,
looking like a nobleman in reduced circumstances.
Now the national dress seems almost to have
disappeared, as all characteristic costume dis-
appears everywhere before the all-levelling scythe
of railways. The more's the pity !

You cross the suspension bridge to enter Buda,
a large and busy-looking town, more picturesque
than Pesth on account of its fortress-crowned hill,
the Blocksberg. On the summit of that hill, and
from a terrace near the ancient church, a most
beautiful view is gained of the twin cities and of
the Danube winding away towards Vienna through
a tangle of wooded islets. On the left hand,
among fields and vineyards, you see a solitary
Mussulman tomb, much venerated and visited by
such of the faithful as pass this way. A special
clause in the treaty of peace between Turks and
Christians, signed at Carlovitz, provides for the
security of this Ottoman shrine.

The ascent on foot of the Blocksberg is very
fatiguing, although it has been made as pleasant
as possible by paths plentifully furnished with
seats ; they wind in zigzag upwards through a
shrubbery. There is, however, a wire-rope rail-

19

290 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

way up the perpendicular face of the cliff, starting
from the left of the entrance to the tunnel ; for
this picturesque hill appears to have occupied
public attention a good deal of late years. A
magnificent tunnel has been pierced through its
very heart to connect the city of Pesth by the
bridge with the country on the further side of the
mountain. The tunnel is a splendid specimen of
solid and highly-finished work.

Owing to a delay occasioned by a missing
travelling trunk, I was obliged to remain behind,

when my friend Mrs. W , with her little

daughter, took their places in the train for Vienna.
The little episode of a frantic, and for some time
unavailing, search after my vagrant property
remains only vividly in my memory ; and no less
vividly, and most gratefully also, the recollection
of the exceeding kindness shown by a Hungarian
gentleman, a perfect stranger, who, seeing my
perplexity, devoted himself for more than an
hour to the search, and finally unearthed it in a
distant goods depot, standing on its head, and
looking utterly forlorn, disreputable, and cast
away.

I started by the night express, and reached

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 291

Vienna in the morning in a pitiless downpour of
rain.

A noticeable feature among the changes that
have taken place since my first visit to Vienna is
the filling up of the moat. Ten years ago they
were just beginning to build there, and many
large spaces of garden and meadow still isolated
a good part of the old city from the suburbs.
The new Ring Strasse, bordered with magnificent
groups of monumental buildings, is certainly very
fine ; yet, one cannot but think that the health of
the city, and undoubtedly its characteristic feature
and picturesque effect, have equally lost by the
4 improvement.'

We started for Cologne by Lintz, Passau, and
the Rhine. The rain had cleared off in a pleasant
glow of evening sunshine, and the lovely environs
of Vienna could be thoroughly enjoyed. Hills
richly wooded ; charming villas surrounded by
their parks and gardens ; cottages beside little
streamlets seen through shady boughs ; the leafy
trees, heavy with the moisture of the late rain,
showering diamonds as the soft breeze swept
across them ; the rich green corn, not beaten
down, but refreshed, and rejoicing once more in

19 — 2

292 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

the ripening rays ; solemn cows slowly winding
along the thick pastures. Then all is suddenly
lost in a deep cutting ; a rush through yellow
sandstone, which ends as suddenly, and you are
passing Mb'lk, the superb Benedictine monastery,
gloriously crowning a vast rock that rises abruptly
above the river ; and in the same picture, at the
next turn of the river, and on its bank, the old
castle of Durnstein, where some say that Blondell
sang to the imprisoned king ; the glistening
Danube, the soft pastures, the wooded heights, the
nestling villages again. Another rush through the
sandstone, a sharp turn in the line, and once more
a bright opening, through which, for one eager
moment, you see Molk again ; and while striving
to decide which picture pleases most you are
engulfed in a tunnel. When you next see daylight
the noble monastery and the ancient castle are left
far behind, and you are whirling past white and
brown thatched cottages, past rustic little chalet-
like stations covered with creeping roses, and
shaded by acacias in full bloom. Sometimes a
ruined castle on a rocky cliff or lofty hilltop breaks
the softer outline of green woodland, or a rustic
bridge in the valley beneath blends with the

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 293

gray shadows creeping gently up the landscape ;
and so evening wears into night, blending all in
a mysterious dreamy uncertainty, from out of
which tiny sparks wink and blink, sometimes in a
cluster, sometimes a solitary flash, till at length
you rush into a lighted busy station — Passau—
and arouse to the necessity of movement ; for
here the baggage must be examined, and the
train changed on to another line of rail.

Passau, of which in this manner you have not
the slightest glimpse, is well worthy of a daylight
visit, for its beautiful situation, its curious churches
and votive chapels, and for the remarkable point
where the three rivers — the Danube, the Inn, and
the Ilz — meet. The Danube flows a muddy yellow ;
the Inn is clear and brown, while the Ilz looks
like troubled milk. The three streams run to-
gether for some distance, without entirely ming-
ling their waters ; the Danube, as the nobler river,
seems to pursue its course regardless of the little
tributaries tumbling about each other and curd-
ling like thick cream in a flood of strong tea.

We have entered Bavaria, and continue to rush
westwards, passing Ratisbon also in the night. It
is almost a pity to take the rail along this route from

294 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Vienna ; seen from the river, the whole distance
thus far is wonderfully beautiful and interesting—
infinitely preferable (as the guide-books declare)
to the most vaunted scenery of the Rhine ; but the
accommodation on board the little steamers, which
alone are able to make their way along the upper
part of the Danube, is so extremely bad, that it
requires a very deep love of the beautiful to induce
travellers to take that route in preference to the
easier journey by rail.

Ratisbon is still more interesting to visit than
Passau. The magnificent cathedral, the old
Rathhaus and torture chamber, and that wonderful
piece of antiquity, the Scotch church, with the
curiously carved porch, and the quiet cloisters
where many a noble Scottish name is cut on the
funeral slabs of the time-worn pavement, are well
worthy of a slower progress through this beautiful
and interesting part of Central Europe. The only
satisfaction, however, to the curiosity of the hurried
railway traveller is — a station and a name !—
so, submitting to the inevitable, we rested in the
comfortable railway carriage, to awake the follow-
ing morning surrounded by the wild and varied
scenery of Bavaria. It is a rich mixture of

THE DANUBE ROUTE : WESTWARDS, 1872 295

wooded heights, with gray crags rearing their
crests above the surging masses of green ; then
we pass Amberg, a quaint old place, with its
ancient castle and moat, its turreted gateways
and majestic avenue, and immediately afterwards
Sulzbach, wonderfully picturesque, a vast antique
building on a rocky cliff, with the little town clus-
tered about its base.

The scenery softens once more. Ever and
again we shoot past hop-fields crowded with
peasants busily dressing the poles ; past meadow
and vineyard and corn-field ; past Nuremberg,
and then the neighbourhood of Kissengen, about
which part the aspect of the country becomes
rather less attractive ; and, fatigue overcoming
curiosity, we decide to break our journey at
Wurtzburg, where, about the middle of the day,
we arrive at the clean and comfortable Hotel de
Russie.

We have now quite forsaken our old friend the
Danube, on or near which we have been travelling
for so many days, and our interest is transferred
to the river Maine, which flows through the many-
spired city.

We made very pleasant acquaintance next

296 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

morning with this river, winding through peaceful,
smiling valleys dotted with hamlets and home-
steads, reflecting in slight ripples the modest
village, the delicately tapering church spire, or the
solid barge drifting lazily upon its current. Occa-
sionally a ruined castle on a distant hill, a forest-
crowned height, a country residence with park and
gardens, gave strength to the background of the
quiet picture, an infinitely soothing sort of pano-
rama for tired travellers to gaze upon, not
requiring the exertion of ecstatic admiration, need-
ing only a murmur of gentle satisfaction from
time to time, passing gradually into a dreamy
appreciation of things in general, and so on and
on. . . . We are suddenly startled into life, rush-
ing with a deafening clatter along an imposing
structure — half bridge, half fortress — over a broad
span of island and water ; massive red towers rise
on either side. What is this ? Where are we ?
More red towers on the further shore reveal an
old friend, Mayence, and we ~ are crossing the
Rhine. A pause in a sooty terminus ; a whistle
and a shriek, and we are speeding on our way
towards Cologne.

What can I venture to remark about the Rhine,

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 297

the much-enduring, half-Anglicized Rhine ? Does
not every tourist with a ten-days' holiday know
beforehand everything about it ? Has not all
its freshness and novelty been long since worn
away by circular excursion tickets and cheap
railway fares ?

Alas, poor Rhine ! I had seen it first in its
unsullied beauty, when the sweet breeze swept
over it, fresh and pure, with no more smoke
curling about its orchards and its terraced vine-
yards than the light vapour from the cottage
chimney, or from the charcoal-burners' encamp-
ment in the forest clearing. There were busy,
crowded, toiling cities then as now, with chimneys
that knew what real smoke meant ; but cities
have their limits, and cannot soil and blacken
more than a given surface of earth's garden

ground. Now well, it is needless to say

more : the day was very gray and dull, making
matters worse, and causing the dirty smoke of the
shrieking engine to seem heavier than it need
have been. The railway list of stations also,
raising visions of sweet spots treasured in the
gilded storehouse of youthful memories, was a
bitter delusion and a snare. You see nothing of

298 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

quaint, old-fashioned Bacharach but a dirty station,
and, for one momentary glimpse, the exquisite
tracery of St. Werner's ruined chapel. Oberwesel
is uncomfortable ; it is impossible to find the right
point, and the striking objects which, seen from
the level of the river, form such a perfect combi-
nation of varied beauties, are now, as the line
twists about like an uneasy serpent, everywhere
at once, and all in a tangle together. We look
down upon the roofs of sweet St. Goar, instead of
upwards to the beautiful heights which overhang
it ; and what has become of the famous echo of
the Lurlei ? — that overworked Siren must surely
at last have become so bewildered between
trumpet-calls and railway whistles that she has
given up the business in disgust. Where, also,
are many of the famous ruins ? They are above,
behind, on one side or the other, and you see little
or nothing of them. Ehrenbreitstein looks posi-
tively mean, seen too much on a level ; in short,
a railway rush along the Rhine only creates
vexation of spirit, and you feel that you have
principally observed coaly stations, crowds of very
ordinary tourists, and a great many advertisements
concerning ale and bottled stout.

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 299

We are nearing Cologne ; the monster crane
which was such a prominent feature of the
Cathedral, a landmark for miles away, has for
many years given place to the completed towers ;
so, that is well ! and doubtless that splendid bridge
connecting the city with Deitz is also very fine ;
I must strive to wipe out of my remembrance
the picturesque old bridge of boats, with its
wooden railing, on which the lounging Prussian
soldier leant and smoked solemn pipes, while the
spike of his helmet glittered in the sunbeam ; and
the country women, with yet some remains of
national costume — especially about the head-
crossed and recrossed, carrying their marketings
in large, useful covered baskets.

Cologne is greatly enlarged and improved, but
Jean Marie Farina — several of them, and each
one the genuine individual — is unchanged ; railway
communication, by encouraging, has perhaps
increased the number of the unit ; otherwise Jean

Marie Farina is more Cologne than Cologne

i

itself.

I was bound for Paris, towards which place I
was taking rather a circuitous route, in order to
enjoy as long as possible the loving companion-

3oo OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

ship that had brightened the journey hitherto.
But the moment came at last ; we parted at
Verviers, and I went on my solitary road sadly
missing my kind friend and her sweet, bright
little daughter.

Everyone now knows the banks of the Meuse,
which rise into grandeur about Namur and Huy :
the beautiful mixture of rock and forest on the
one side, and the clear river on the other : the
occasional tall chimneys that tell of mineral
wealth and busy toil, and the rich cultivation of
the open fields. The situation of Huy, although
the glimpse obtained is too distant and too rapid,
is beautiful, grouping together the river, the
bridge, the old Cathedral and the crowning for-
tress on the lofty rock.

After passing Charleroi, pictorial effect and
sentiment give place to coal, with a struggle at
first between the wooded heights, the waving
corn and scented hayfields, and the grim reality
of factory chimneys ; but at last the chimneys
get the best of it, and reign supreme amidst soot
and cinders, striving, however, to console you with
evidence of the industry and wealth of all this
toiling region.

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 301

It was at the buffet of the French frontier town
that — almost for the first time since leaving Con-
stantinople— I enjoyed the perfect satisfaction of
complete and unclouded comprehension of the
change received for my money. Ever since the
moment of departure from the land of piastres,
small change had been a tiny thorn in the path
of our well-ordered progress, pricking its little
difficulties from time to time, until it reached a
climax, after passing Vienna, with complicated
calculations between paper money and * silber
groschen,' and spread into an inextricable maze
in the rapidly shifting German States. It was
humiliating in the extreme to feel one's self
obliged, for a very trifling payment, to place a
silver piece before the waiter, and tell him to help
himself; the loss to the purse was small enough
after all, but the injury to one's dignity and self-
esteem was not to be trifled with, and the making-
up afterwards of accounts was accomplished with
a bold freedom in the right hand columns which
it would have puzzled an experienced accountant
to reduce to order.

302 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Paris was very busy plastering up her smaller
wounds when I saw her once again. Though the
great gaping gashes, the saddest blots upon her
brilliant beauty, remain, weird and ghastly-looking,
yet Paris is still, in spite of ruin and desolation
of siege and fire, the very Queen of beautiful
cities — more than doubled in extent since those
long past times when it was home, and every street
and turning perfectly familiar. New boulevards
are everywhere, broad streets, handsome churches,
gardens, 'squares.' You are bewildered ; you seek
to reach a well-remembered spot ; you know it to
be in the near neighbourhood ; you strive for
the most direct line; you reach a 'carrefour';
the thread of your course is broken, lost in a
tangled skein of street architecture, and you
probably decide to pursue your way confidently
in the opposite direction ; meet another ' carre-
four,' and in the end wander back to the original
starting point to begin once more, humbly asking
directions at every turn and crossing.

Yet among all these changes some of the most
striking points of city scenery remain unaltered.
The old Boulevards have, if possible, improved
by the growth of the trees, and another nearly

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 303

unrivalled picture, the ' Cite ' from the Pont des
Arts, retains its crowning beauty by the almost
miraculous preservation of the Sainte Chapelle.
The floating baths, the old Samaritaine with the
well-known palm-tree chimney, the fine old trees
grouped near the Pont Royal, the swimming-baths
and even the rows of washerwomen with their
wooden bats, look now as they looked ten, twenty,
thirty years ago ; but a new element of animation
and of very great public usefulness has been intro-
duced on the river — the little steamers ('hiron-
delles ') running between Bercy and St. Cloud.
This water-way gives charming views of many
buildings and parts of the city under quite a new
aspect. Notre Dame and the grand ruin of the
Hotel de Ville are particularly fine, and it is well
worth a trip up and down to look at Paris from
the level of the Seine ; the landing-stages are
frequent, and the little boat calls at them about
every five minutes : the charge for the run through
the city is three-halfpence.

The method now adopted of transplanting
trees of large growth is invaluable, not only on
account of the new boulevards, which quickly
become quite pleasant and shady, but also in

304 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

replacing the trees destroyed by shot and shell ;
some of these in the Rue Tronchet, as in the
Champs Elysees and elsewhere, said to be quite
newly-planted in place of those utterly destroyed
during the late struggle, look as if they had had
at least a ten years' growth on the spot.

The shops are full of pictures of the ravages
of the civil war : Parisians, unwilling to lose the
opportunity of sensation and profit combined, have
photographed the magnificent desolation of their
ruined monuments from every point of view, but
in reality much of the destruction has been
repaired with wonderful promptitude in most of
the streets that had suffered severely, and the
gaunt skeletons of such well-known massive
blocks as still remain untouched appear the more
startling by comparison. The ruins of the
* Grenier d'Abondance,' near the Bastille, give
perhaps a stronger impression of wholesale
destruction than the more important ruins ; from
the immense extent of roofless walls and the
almost countless rows of headless pillars, the place
has the look of some vast ruined temple of the
highest antiquity.

Notre Dame is uninjured, although three fires

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 305

were lighted in the interior ; the ' tresor ' also is
in its place, in all the glittering splendour of
broidered robes and jewelled cups, priceless
crucifixes and saintly ' reliquaires.' And there, in
a little closet beside them, as if in bitter mockery
of the gorgeous accessories of their perilous
elevation, hang the blood-stained garments, torn,
and pierced, and soiled ; the violet robe of the
last unhappy victim — marked with bullet-holes in
more than a dozen places— is covered, besides,
with stains from the unhallowed ditch into which
it had been thrust. One looks at the gold and
glitter around with indifference — such things can
be seen anywhere ; but the poor torn and earth-
stained relics of these martyrs fill you with deep
reverence and almost overwhelming pity.

On the outside of Notre Dame some workmen,
not long since, repairing the roof, found the body
of a priest who had perished very miserably, fallen
astride over one of the flying buttresses, probably
in attempting to escape.

The destruction in parts of the immediate
environs of Paris is more evident to a stranger
than that in the city. At Issy, where the struggle
between the Commune and the Versaillais was

20

306 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

very sharp, these traces are terribly visible.
Here, as elsewhere, people will tell you that they
suffered little from the foreign enemy, that it was
the Commune on the one hand, and the feverish
ill-directed efforts of the French ' Genie ' on the
other, that caused all the ruin. The military
engineers seem to have made widespread havoc
in a wild attempt at defence, turning into dust-
heaps acres of smiling gardens, levelling villas
and manufactories where (on the word of a com-
petent authority) the destruction was as utterly
uncalled for as it was unsparing. For instance,
a tall chimney, the finest in all the country round,
had been just completed at a vast expense ; it
had remained untouched during the siege and the
fearful times of the Commune ; nevertheless, it
was doomed to destruction and blown up by the
authorities after fighting had ceased, and the
armistice waited but the last signature. In the
same spirit of senseless waste they cut down the
fine park of Issy, and were forced immediately
afterwards to drag branches of trees to the spot
to mask their batteries. The handsome stone
bridge over the Seine at Choisy was blown up at
a time when the water was so low as to allow the

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 307

Germans to pass on foot with the greatest ease ;
endless instances could be given of the needless
destruction caused by the French themselves.

To speak further of France, where, on this
occasion, I passed a month in that pretty fertile
district between Paris and Etampes, which had
remained happily an oasis of peace in the hands
of the Germans, would be needless. I can record
no novelty there. Time seemed to have passed
by that favoured little spot, and to have forgotten,
in the hurry of broad touches required of his
pencil, by the wearing fret and onward strain of
neighbouring cities, the delicate, tender little
half-tints of the quiet, uneventful village life. I
step back ten years with the loving welcome
which brought me once again into the dear old-
fashioned salon, with the bright polished floor,
the downy bergeres, the clock before the large
chimney-glass, and the little chocolate service
of Sevres china on the marble console. I see
through the open window the garden, a due pro-
portion of bright flowers with vines and wall-
fruit, melon-beds and vegetables in the back-
ground. Beyond that again, the shady wood and
the spreading fir-tree, where, seated on an ancient

20 — 2

3o8 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

bench, I presently hear how, as in old times, the
good cure still continues to dine on stated days
at the chateau, and at the two or three better
houses of the village ; how he plays his quiet
rubber of bezique, and does his best to amuse an
ancient ' demoiselle ' * who is getting very deaf
now ;' how old Pere Remy, the * serpent ' in the
little village choir, wound his last blast upon that
formidable instrument on the last fete-day, and
how the girls of the * Confrerie de la Vierge '
have ceased to wear their pretty little plaited caps,
and are taking to chignons and imitation Parisian
coiffures.

Then I hear many an anecdote of the German
occupation (the Bavarians under General Von
der Tann held the whole of this district) : how,
meeting with no resistance where resistance was
indeed possible, they managed to live on quiet
terms together ; but poor old Etienne the gardener,
in his casquette, blue apron and sabots, got a
terrible fright one day as he peeped timidly over
the wall from amongst the vines that he was
trimming, at a spirited Uhlan capering about the
road. * Bon jour, papa,' said the warrior. * Bon
jour, monsieur,' said the poor old man, raising his

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 309

casquette tremblingly, every gray hair standing
erect with fright, and down came the sabots
amongst the vines, and he did not feel very sure
that the unlooked-for salute had not bewitched
him, for ' the fremis (fourmies) have been very
bad in the peaches ever since, comme qui dirait
un sort, mamzelle.'

The Germans behaved very well in this part of
the country, which they occupied undisturbed for
several months ; during all this time no complaint
was made of even a rudeness to a woman. The
peasants worked in their fields and vineyards
unmolested — sometimes, indeed, helped by their
compulsory visitors ; their only troubles were the
frequent requisitions for carts and cattle, which,
after all, generally came back to their owners, or
were paid for after the end of the war. But even
these requisitions were sometimes resisted, as
when three stout Uhlans entering one of the
cottages while Genevieve was making her bread,
she turned round upon them, heaving up an
armful of the heavy dough, and declared she
would throw it in their faces if they asked for
anything more. The prospect was so alarming
that the men of war instantly departed to seek

3io OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

for what they needed from some less determined
housewife.

In C 's house the ancient handmaid, the

meekest and mildest of her sex, even ventured to
revolt against some demand connected with her
saucepans. ' Ah, my girl,' said the grim orderly,
patting her encouragingly on the shoulder, ' never
mind ; patience ! all this is misery for you and
misery for us.'

Many officers and soldiers left their temporary
homes with mutual feelings of good-will, and there
is an amusing anecdote of a sick Bavarian, who,

after living some time at Arpajon in M. B 's

little house, fell dangerously ill, and was removed
to the ambulance in the chateau of our village,
La Norville. It was mid-winter and bitterly cold;
the poor soldier had brain-fever, and in his
delirium he managed to escape in the night ; bare-
footed, in his shirt, and holding a lighted candle
in each hand, he made his way along the snow-
covered road back into the little town, and

knocked at M. B 's door, 'because/ as he

explained, * he had forgotten to wish his kind
host a happy New Year.' They wrapped him
up in blankets and took him back ; everyone

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 311

thought his case hopeless, but strange to say he
recovered from that time, and was soon quite well
and strong again.

I could relate instances of many country houses
well known to me occupied by the Germans,
where, beyond the loss of a rug or a blanket, or
perhaps some ink spilt on a cloth, there was
absolutely no injury to complain of, and it was

quite amusing to hear my friend E tell how

she had left her country house in the sole care of
the gardener, who was obliged to receive into it
several cavalry officers ; therefore, as everything
there is very clean and well kept, he covered all
the drawing-room chairs with newspapers to keep
them nice for the return of 'madame,' and the con-
querors actually submitted without remonstrance.

This same friend relates how, driving her little
pony-carriage alone through the forest, strongly
held by the Germans, she would often come
suddenly upon pickets of solemn, motionless
groups of mounted soldiers in the gloomiest paths
of the sombre woods, who had no more thought
of alarming the unprotected lady than the ancient
trees under which they stood.

Other parts of France, in the hands of othe

312 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

regiments, met with rougher treatment ; I can only
speak of places that I know thoroughly and have
since visited, and it seems that as tales of wrong
and injury are always loudly proclaimed, it is but
right to notice the countless instances in which
conquerors holding resistless power over all around
used it with so much gentleness and forbearance.
Would the French, spreading over the Rhine
provinces and entering 'a Berlin/ have acted with
the like restraint ?

Once more in England ! carried onwards
towards that overgrown metropolis, i a province
covered with houses ' ; onwards, past a wild stretch
of gorse and bracken, a beautiful oasis, a rare
glimpse of untouched nature ; then on again, past
villages with church tower or steeple rising from
the clustering belt of trees ; past fruitful orchards
and graceful hop-gardens, homesteads with their
* oast ' houses ; a sweep of thyme-scented breezy
downs ; soft, dewy valleys between swelling wood-
crowned hills ; pasture-lands, with flocks and
herds of well-kept cattle ; sweet scenes of rural
peace and industry and solid comfort infinitely
soothing to tired wayfarers.

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 313

The journey, begun with the calm, indolent
'kief of our slow progress up the Danube against
the stream, had quickened slightly at Buda-Pesth ;
became brisk from Vienna, onwards ; thrilled into
interest in France and in Paris, rising from its
ashes ; and now, still flying onwards by rich pastures
and wooded uplands and parks and stately man-
sions, we find that gradually the scenery becomes
less rural, the stone and brick and mortar more
encroaching. A haze hangs over the landscape ;
you are rushing towards it ; the scattered cottages
begin to cling together, in pairs at first, then in
rows and terraces, until slowly, but surely, you
become involved in a limitless maze of houses
and streets, chimneys and steeples, railway arches
and viaducts and tunnels, and rows of lamps,
and vast illuminations of coloured signals, and
rushing, palpitating, shrieking trains, and hurry-
ing tides of human life. You are in London,
where all the bewilderments of all the iron ways
of Europe seem to culminate in the great rush
and roar of the wonderful and fearful network of
railway junctions, underground lines, and daylight
station routes. It takes away your breath when
you are first shot out — a floating speck — on this

3i4 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

great ocean of indescribable vitality. Trains are
rushing above, beside, beneath you all at once ;
there is more than one gloomy spot where, as you
are whirled along beneath the living flood that
surges heavily through the crowded streets, you
are aware of a panting line of carriages tearing
above the level of your progress, while at the
same moment, beneath, in a deep gulf (a cutting
in a yet lower and a darker depth), a railway train
is passing ; there, also, you are rushing into a
tunnel, ending in some gleams of daylight of a
sickly cavernous quality, from which you ascend,
and thankfully breathe once more the outer air.

The past ten years have changed the whole
face and aspect of this vast London ; monuments
of art, of science, of taste ; charitable institutions,
educational enterprises without number, have
arisen during that short period ; but while we
rejoice in the results of these, many of them
heroic, efforts for the benefit of the toiling masses,
we must remember that all in our wonderful city
is not matter for admiration and self-applause.
A visitor to London is condemned to experience

THE DANUBE ROUTE: WESTWARDS, 1872 315

every sensation that the aspect of city life can
produce, every sensation in excess. You wonder
exceedingly ; you admire ; you shudder ; you re-
joice ; you sympathize or you recoil, as scenes and
objects incomparably beautiful or immeasurably sad
pass before your view ; the extremes of luxurious
ease and of heart-breaking misery and suffering
are, it is well known, to be witnessed here in
startling contrast, and yet what self-denying, what
almost superhuman efforts of public and of private
chanty are ungrudgingly made to lighten this
heavy burden of poverty and pain !

To see something of this sad aspect of suffer-
ing life, take an East London train, and soon you
will be flying above and looking down into another
world — a black, grimy, sordid, painful world. As
far as the eye can pierce the dense cloud of smoke,
gaunt chimneys rise above a vast ocean of shabby
roofs and reeking factories ; streets and lanes and
miserable alleys swarm with squalid life ; — a
depressing, cheerless labyrinth, yet saved from
the depth of dreariness by beautiful church spires
that pierce the gloom, like fingers of hope point-
ing steadily upwards.

The smoky veil gradually lightens ; there is a

316 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

break in the dreary monotony of crooked chimney
stacks and blackened tiles — a blighted, smoke-
dried tree on a miserable patch of withered,
trodden grass ; a dusty bit of hedge ; and now, the
houses begin to separate, to show an open space,
growing old broom-sticks and rusty iron ; then
a patch of clean grass ; a garden with bright
flowers; a breezy field with sunlight and flickering
shadows ; fresh hedgerows, some splendid trees,
and you are once more in the open country — the
placid, soothing English country ; you breathe
freely ; and with deep thankfulness for the blessed
sense of rest and peace in the calm repose of un-
spoiled Nature, you look back to the thick vapour
hanging over London, with pity for its restless
millions, with wonder and admiration for its
gigantic enterprises, its strength of solid beauty,
its vivifying streams of life ever pouring forth or
gathering in its boundless wealth of thought, of
knowledge, of science, of labour, of produce ; and
you feel that if Paris may be called the bright and
dazzling Capital of Europe, London may be
named, with even greater truth, the mighty,
throbbing Heart of The World.

[317 ]

IN MID-WINTER, FROM VIENNA TO GALATZ.

FROM the beautiful station of the ' Nord Bahn,'
at Vienna, its luxurious cafe and waiting-rooms,
its marble columns, and rich, warm glow of colour
and touches of gilded work, I turned to en-
counter, as best I might, the dreary discomfort of
a solitary winter's journey through the frozen,
half - barbarous countries which must be passed
before reaching Galatz, on the south - eastern
frontier of Moldavia.

At that time — 1873 — onty one nne °f railway
had been completed eastwards of Vienna, towards
the Russian frontier ; taking at first a north
easterly direction, making an immense curve
upwards through Austrian Poland, by Cracow
and Lemberg, then downwards through Galicia
to the Roumanian provinces.

I have taken a direct ticket by mail express as
far as Suczava, on the Moldavian frontier; am

318 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

directed to a ' Damen Coupe,' where two lady
travellers are already installed ; remark that the
guard of the train is dressed as for a Siberian

o

progress ; and the train rolls slowly away from
the Austrian capital.

The scenery on the east of Vienna is exceed-
ingly flat and uninteresting, growing sombre as
you pass into a region of fir plantations, where the
trees stand dense, dark and straight, about as
wearisome a picture as it is possible for trees to
produce. Towards Prerau, the country becomes
more attractive ; an outline of distant mountains
gradually rises on the left hand ; there is a sug-
gestion of a ruin on one lofty summit ; the level
country on either hand becomes more varied,
sprinkled with villages and little groves of trees,
until at Wei'sskirchen you find a very pretty
village with a majestic chateau standing in a
beautiful park.

My two companions stopped here, and with
a civil 'good-morning' left me the solitary oc-
cupant of the ladies' carriage. I was very sorry
to lose them ; they had talked to each other
incessantly for more than five hours, the sub-
ject of their discourse being a certain Grafinn,

FROM VIENNA TO GALATZ 319

whose name never transpired ; but, although their
conversation, quite unintelligible to me, was, con-
sequently, not of absorbing interest, the carriage
became very dreary when they descended, and
the guard - - muffled and sheepskinned, and
smothered up into the. likeness of an Esquimaux
— shut me in alone.

Few ladies travel in mid-winter on these distant
railway lines, and I saw small chance of com-
panionship. It is certainly desirable to avoid the
smoky horrors of the general carriage, where,
through a blue fog, reeking with evil odours, you
see nothing but huge masses of fur, that move
every now and then, and give occasional signs of
animation by spitting ; but yet the melancholy
dignity of a carriage to one's self, under the cir-
cumstances, is a choice of evils.

The route, quite new to me, passes over a tract
of country subject to frightful snowstorms, and the
consequent stoppage and blocking of trains : we
had, as yet, since leaving Vienna, seen no trace
of the winter clothing of the ground. The young
corn was springing up, strong and green on either
side, till, suddenly emerging from a tunnel, we
shot into a land of snow ; gradually, as the after-

320 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

noon wore into evening, the windows of the
carriage became thickly frozen, and the outer
world was an utter blank through the long,
solitary night. The lamp in the roof, which had
wavered and winked for some time in a friendly,
companionable sort of way, got tired at length,
spluttered a little, and subsided ; thought better
of it, made an effort, leapt up in a wild attempt to
recover itself, but overdid it, and finally sank
down exhausted, and expired, leaving a weird,
unearthly sort of twilight ; for a full moon existed
somewhere in the heavens, and there was a pale
gleaming from the snowy plains over which we
were rolling so noiselessly.

The patterns on the frosty window-glass were
beautiful ; under more cheerful circumstances, one
might have fancied waving trees and springlike
vegetation ; now, the fantastic lines form them-
selves persistently into sweeping snowdrifts,
groups of bewildered travellers, dark, hurrying
troops of wolves, and frozen inundated swamps.

There are occasional glimpses of human life as
the flickering lamps of a station gleam through
the obscurity, and, the door of the carnage
being hastily opened, an uncouth mass of sheep-

FROM VIENNA TO GALATZ 321

skins pushes forward the heavy footwarmer, after
which the guard, very friendly, and perhaps a
little compassionate, looks in, pats the chauffrette,
asks if it is ' gutt,' and shuts me up once more
into my solitude, always leaving behind an im-
pression of garlic and other strong restoratives.

Some time in the night a brighter gleam than
usual announces an important station, my prison
door is opened, and we are at Cracow. Several
unmistakable Poles are lounging about, tall and
straw-coloured ; I mingle with my fellow-creatures
for about a quarter of an hour in a * restauration '
heated by iron stoves to fever-heat, and obtain a
basin of broth, for which I pay helplessly, by
offering a coin more than four times the supposed
amount, and taking up the change as if the
currency were quite familiar ; then back into my
padded cell, and onward through all the weary
hours until we stop to change trains at Lemberg,
on the Russian frontier.

Two gentlemen enter the new rail way -car-
riage, so muffled and hidden in furs that nothing
can be distinguished of the individual ; my op-
posite neighbour is lost in the stupendous collar
and cuffs of a valuable dark fur ornamenting

21

322 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

a formidable fur-lined cloak. An astrakan cap,
pulled to the eyebrows ; a thick muffler con-
cealing the lower part of the face ; great fur-
lined gloves and an immensely thick railway-
rug, completed a thoroughly arctic equipment.
The sable trimmings and astrakan cap would
formerly have denoted a * Boyard ' of the second
class ; in the present day these distinctions have
ceased.

It is really amazing to realize the amount of
covering that travellers in these countries are able
to carry on their persons. I had been much
amused a few days previously in noting the con-
trast between an English gentleman and his
opposite German neighbour, both preparing for
some hours of night journey. The weather was
far from cold, and the carriage, nearly full of pas-
sengers, close-shut, padded, and heated with the
chauffrettes, might have been called oppressively
warm : the Englishman simply exchanged his hat
for a soft warm cap, spread a "tartan shawl over
his knees, and was satisfied ; the German, who
chanced to occupy the warmest seat in the car-
riage, began by slowly inserting one leg, then the
other, into a cloth tube lined with fur, with a great

FROM VIENNA TO GALATZ 323

flap of fur which he pulled up to his chin ; not
content with this, he next dragged an enormous
fur-lined coat all over him to his eyebrows, and
finally extinguished himself under some thick
head-wrappings, closing up all vestige of humanity
from the snoring mass.

As the morning began to break, a bright ray
stealing softly across the frozen window - pane
spoke of brighter prospects, and it soon became
possible to clear a small space, through which
glimpses of the country might be obtained. Our
route is taking a southerly direction ; the snow is
disappearing from the plains, although the rivers
and gullies are still ice-locked, and the distant
hills a glittering white.

We are in Galicia ; the scenery increases in
interest as we advance — slightly hilly, varied by
woods ; villages and homesteads rise amidst
gardens and orchards ; numerous streams crossed
by little rustic bridges — a charmingly pastoral
style of landscape to enjoy, at a distance, for the
picturesque, low, whitewashed cottages, with their
deep, overhanging brown thatch, may be other-
wise than pleasant in the interior, the Polish
peasantry not rejoicing in a reputation for cleanli-

21 — 2

324 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

ness, but as subjects for sketching, their dwellings
are perfect.

Galicia seems wonderfully fertile ; comfortable
villages and large farms are passed in quick suc-
cession, varied by woody uplands, patches of wild
heathland, a sombre bit of forest here and there,
and distant glimpses of the shadowy Carpathian
range. After the dreary solitude of the frozen
night journey, it is like a bright awakening from
a painful dream.

One of my fellow-travellers also awakes, and,
gradually emerging from his swathing wraps,
proves to be a pleasant and gentlemanly native,
sufficiently civilized to speak French, and I seize
the opportunity of gaining some information about
this interesting and comparatively little known
corner of Europe.

Remarking on the great provision of wood
stacked at the railway-stations, it appears that
from Lemberg downwards, nearly to the Danube,
the engines are heated with it ; that the forests
— fast disappearing — are not replanted, with the
inevitable consequences of scarcity of winter fuel,
in a climate where the winters are Siberian, and
of summer droughts, in which the promising

FROM VIENNA TO GALATZ 325

harvests of wheat and maize hopelessly perish.
A new line of railway is, however, in contempla-
tion. It will pass through the Carpathians, open-
ing up a possibility of working with advantage
the vast coal and salt mines and other mineral
treasures that are known to abound in the neigh-
bourhood of Okna.

The country is surprisingly well watered : our
train is running continually over bridges. In the
course of the night we twice cross the Dneister,
and, some hours later, the Pruth, on a long pic-
turesque bridge ; the small streams and rivulets
are countless. The line reaches also the Sereth,
about half - way between Czernovitz and the
frontier, crosses it two or three times, then follows
the course of the stream till it flows into the
Danube a little above Galatz.

Czernovitz, an important station which was
reached soon after crossing the Pruth, looks more
like an overgrown village than a town. The
whitewashed, thatched, and rustic dwellings,
standing in their gardens and orchards and farm-
yards, are scattered about over a great extent of
land ; a large church and some buildings, grouped
on the summit of a low hill, seem to form the

326 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

heart of the town, which clambers irregularly up
the slope. Some pretty villas and substantial
mansions on the further side show that the place
contains wealthy families, although my fellow-
traveller — who stopped here, and seemed to be
an inhabitant — declared that the mixed population
of Russians, Poles, and Jews formed a great
hindrance to the prosperity of Czernbvitz, which
is very near to the Russian frontier line.

We roll on southwards, and with every turn of
the wheel the scenery continues to improve in
beauty and interest as we approach the foot of a
branch of the Carpathians. Clearings in the thick
forest growth are sprinkled with farms and deep-
eaved cottages ; a tangled gully runs up into a
gorge with its rich, dense masses of primeval
forest, and the dark, rounded summits carry the
eye still further on to the vague, blue mountain
outline, melting into the bluer sky. Then the
mountains gradually recede and pass away, and
with the fading light we reach Suczava, once the
capital of Moldavia, and now a frontier town
between the Austrian territory and Roumania.

Taking a fresh ticket for the Moldavian line, I
find that florins and kreutzers have given place to

FROM VIENNA TO GALATZ 327

francs and bani, the currency, like all institutions
in this part of Europe, being modelled on the
French system.

We stop for a short while during the night at
Roman, where travellers for Jassy change trains.
Nothing is visible of the town, one of those said
to have been founded by Trajan when he planted
his Roman colonies in Dacia, nor of the country
through which we afterwards pass in the neigh-
bourhood of Bakau. The train rolls on in a
straight southerly direction, sometimes 'piano/
* piano,' as it crosses great tracts of inundated
land, or creeps over innumerable and very fragile-
looking bridges. In some parts the line is slightly
under water, and we can hear the sharp cracking
of the ice beneath the wheels ; then the steam is
put on a little, and we roll more briskly, but never
(although it is the mail-express) at a rate that
could be considered in England as average rail-
way speed.

There is not a vestige of a tunnel, scarcely
even a cutting, through the whole length of the
line, yet it had given infinite trouble to the
engineers from the peculiar nature of the beds of
the rivers, particularly of the Sereth ; it had

328 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

seemed almost impossible to find solid foundation
for the bridges ; the first built had been all swept
away, and a great part of the line in Upper
Moldavia has been entirely reconstructed.

At Barboshi, a little station near to the spot
where the Sereth falls into the Danube, several
passengers changed trains, and three ladies, whom
I had met in the waiting-room at Suczava, and
who knew that I was bound for Galatz, looked at
me as they passed the carriage in which I sat
quietly ; they did not think themselves called
upon to enlighten the stranger, the guard left
everyone to themselves, and I presently found
myself placidly making my way towards Bucharest.
This was not quite in the right direction ; there
was no remedy, however, but to make a little
impromptu excursion into Wallachia, and at the
next station, Ibra'ila, to take a ticket back to
Barboshi.

The day has dawned as I wait for the Galatz
train, and gaze idly from the door of the little
station, upon a low hill or bluff of earth on the
opposite side of the line : it would have had more
interest had I then known that the green mound
on the summit marks the site of a Roman

FROM VIENNA TO GALATZ 329

fortress or encampment, known to the country
people as ' Capi di BoveV It is one of the in-
numerable traces of Roman occupation found in
these parts, particularly along the course of the
Danube above Galatz.

The train is drawing very near to that well-
known commercial town ; we are skirting a fine
piece of water on the left, the lake Bratisch,
backed by the low hills of Bessarabia, and soon
the long earth cliff of Galatz begins to rise on the
right hand of the line. I recognize the features
of the town ; there is the British Consulate, quite
near to the station ; the train slackens, stops, and
the travellers disperse quickly, for this being a
free port, there is no examination of luggage.
The weather is very fine ; I will walk up to the
Consulate, so I pass along the broad road into
the Strada Micai'au Bravul, and enter the spacious
court, rather as if returning from a morning's
stroll. Although unexpected at that time, I am
welcomed with the warmest friendship. I came
for a few days and I stayed a month ; and although
Galatz is generally reckoned one of the least
interesting spots in this part of Europe, I found
so much to engage attention in the manners and

330 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

customs of the people, I heard so much of the
beauty of the scenery in the mountainous districts
of Roumania, of the curious cluster of women's
convents, of the ruined churches and monasteries,
of the antique usages especially preserved amongst
the peasantry of the Carpathians, that before
leaving I formed some plans for future excursions
in this little-known corner of Eastern Europe.

How, many years later, these plans were
realized amidst the wild and beautiful scenery of
Upper Moldavia, where three English ladies,
the first that had penetrated to these remote
monasteries, found everywhere a gentle courtesy
and a kindly welcome, has been related elsewhere,
in the hope that others might one day also profit
by their experiences of a simple and inexpensive
holiday tour.*

* ' Untrodden Paths in Roumania,' Mrs. Walker.

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[ 33i ]

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY: BOSPHORUS
VIGNETTES.

EACH year, with the return of the swallows, flights
of tourists also arrive, eager to look at Constanti-
nople, as they have already looked at (not seen)
Egypt and Palestine, at a run, and as rapidly as
possible. The greater number, ' personally con-
ducted,' can do little more than skim the surface.
Tired and bronzed and weather-beaten by desert
travel ; the head filled with confused remembrance
of pyramids and picnics, of tossings on camel back
and steamer, of grave and solemn feelings before
the Holy Places, mixed with the miseries endured
in the last hostelry, they climb the steep ascent to
Pera, displaying with delightful unconcern the
most impossible costumes, well suited, perhaps, to
tent life and the ruins of Baalbec, but of startling
eccentricity in the very modern and up-to-date
High Street of our suburb.

332 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

But our travellers have no time to think of such
a trifling matter. Must they not crowd into three
or four days as many impressions as possible of
ancient Byzantium and of modern Stamboul ?
Are there not the mosques, the hippodrome, anti-
quities and bazaars, the unrivalled circuit of ancient
walls, and the last improvements of civilization,
all to be raced over ? They must see the Sultan
go to his mosque ; the dervishes who turn, and the
dervishes who howl, at their religious exercises ;
and, not least, the veiled and elegant Turkish
ladies, whose carriages animate the promenade.
What an amount of labour to be got through in
four days ! Nothing but the broadest outlines of
ideas can compass it, and our tourists, to gain an
impression of the Bosphorus, invariably climb up
to the deck of the steamer, from which the two
shores can be seen at a glance : the European
girdled by an unbroken range of palaces and
yalis, of smiling villages and graceful pavilions ;
that of Asia, less thickly inhabited and more rural,
offering many a view of wooded heights and shady
glades, with vaporous mountain-summits that melt
into the far distance of little known Anatolia.

The excursion, no doubt, is delightful ; never-

O UR BE A UTIFUL WA TER WA Y 333

theless, the traveller returns with a vague feeling
of disappointment. This much- praised Bosphorus
does not realize expectation : the hills lack
grandeur, and the whole loses in comparison with
so many other well-known sites. To appreciate
the beauties of this celebrated waterway, they
should be taken in detail, and are best seen, if
possible, from a caique, or steam-launch, or from
the cabin of a steamer, almost on a level with the
water, where, through the little windows on the
shore side, you obtain a moving panorama of
exquisite vignettes.

Should the excursion be made during the few
days in early spring when the wild Judas trees
glow like gigantic rose-bushes all over the rough
ground above the belt of houses, those who are
happy enough to have seen it will long remember
the tender, fairy-like beauty of the picture. One
of our former ambassadors returned here at the
age of eighty-two, for the sole purpose of seeing
once more the blossoming Judas trees of the
Bosphorus.

The frame of our first picture is filled by the

334 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

gangway — a narrow plank with, or sometimes
without, a handrail. A many-coloured, picturesque
crowd is pushing forward to embark for the
different stations on either shore, for this steamer
is what is popularly called a ' crossing-boat ' or
' zig-zag.1 There are civilized people and bar-
barians ; fine ladies in gauzy toilets and peasants
in sheepskins ; mollahs in green or white turbans,
and dervishes in felt flower-pot hats ; Turkish
hanums in satin and diamonds, and beggars in
dirt and rags. They press forward ; they hurry ;
they swarm along the deck or upward to the
benches under the awning ; some ladies to a side-
cabin reserved for Mussulman women ; the greater
number of the fair sex to the harem, divided from
the deck by heavy curtains.

A sharp whistle ; we are starting. With a
harsh noise the gangway is drawn back, while the
pedlars leap back on to the bridge over the narrow
chasm ; belated travellers hurrying down the
rough steps gesticulate in vain ; the most adven-
turous endeavour to get on to the boat, in
defiance of shrieks and cries of prohibition. The
machine beats its wings for some minutes, and we
are off — very slowly at first, for the harbour is

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 335

choked with craft of all kinds that seem to
throw themselves purposely across our line of
progress.

In the cabin, which can hold about eight people,
we find a group that excites our curiosity — three
men, partly crouched upon the cushions, dressed
in beautiful silk caftans, interwoven with gold.
They wear magnificent turbans, whose gold and
brilliant colours shine through folds of delicate
muslin ; they have shed their slippers, which lie
on the floor beneath ; they speak in subdued
tones, and roll their black velvet eyes with superb
indifference on a scene which must be, to them,
so novel, for we learn that they come from some
wild country of Central Asia, and are accompanied
by a palace agha, six feet high, black as a coal,
and polite as a courtier ; he does the honours of
the boat in the shape of black coffee and cigarettes.

Beside the negro a little French governess is
seated, on her road to her daily lessons. Pic-
turesque scenery has lost all novelty for her, and
she is knitting, to while away the time — striving,
perhaps, to reckon how many years must be
passed in this weary round of toil, before the
bright time comes — if ever — when she may hope

336 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

for rest, and the enjoyment of the beauties of this
beautiful world.

A fat man seated near watches with foolish,
sleepy eyes the nimble fingers of the poor girl ;
were he to express his thoughts, they would
probably be : * Aman, Aman ? how dreadfully it
tires me to see you working like that !' But he
says nothing, and the bright needles continue
their fencing exercise. The cafedji comes and
goes : the inspector of tickets tears off a corner
from a slip of coloured paper printed in four
languages, and I turn once more to the moving
panorama of the coast.

We have left behind Galata with its majestic
tower ; Pera, its Embassies and its many- tinted
houses covering the slope of the hill ; the fine
mosque of Tophaneh, its gold-pointed minarets,
and the long range of cannon foundries, which
have lately considerably increased in extent and
importance, thanks to the labour and intelligence
of English workmen and overseers.

Above Tophaneh, houses in terraces, mosques,
barracks, climb the steep hillside, until on the
highest point, as if to complete this scene of life
and actuality, the sombre forest of cypresses, the

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 337

' Great Burial Ground,' literally called ' The Great
Field of the Dead,' cuts like a stern grim curtain
upon the intense blue of the bright sky.

Beyond Fundukli begins the garland of palaces,
yalis, kiosques and gardens, of cafes and kiefs,
which lines the shore in an almost unbroken string
till within view of the Black Sea.

At Cabatasch we draw up for a few minutes.
In the foreground a little wooden chalet serves as
waiting-room ; beyond, an old arabesque fountain
at the top of a flight of half-ruined steps ; beside
it a group of 'dlers slowly smoking narghiles in
the shadow of a spreading plane-tree. They are
talking, perhaps, of the good old times when tram-
ways, carriages, and all the traffic that now covers
them with dust, were unknown ; when the ' Caba-
tasch,' a large mass of ancient masonry, might
still be seen beside the rough landing-stage, or
of other things connected with this spot, and with
the little cemetery beside the road.

Off again. Our series of vignettes continues
to unfold. Now it is the white mosque of Dolma
Bagtche, with the imperial palace rather in the
background, for our steamer is tracing a great
curve in order to pass behind the Sultan's yacht,

22

338 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

and the ironclads, all at anchor for the summer
under the eyes of the Padischah.

The Palace of Dolma Bagtche is a beautiful
building in white marble, wrought, sculptured,
embellished to the utmost extent. Architects of
severe taste lament over its mixed style ; jokers
compare it to a highly-ornamented wedding-cake ;
it may be so, but I doubt if a simpler, more correct
edifice would produce the same magical effect,
with the sparkle of its thousands of luminous
points in the azure mirror that repeats them, as
the water laps gently on the great marble landing-
stairs. On the edge of the quay, as on the roof
of the palace, a colony of white birds with pearl-
gray wings and rose-coloured feet remains un-
disturbed by the great Imperial caique, with its
crimson-and-gold awning and fourteen pairs of
oars, that balances softly before the principal
entrance.

We have reached Beshiktash; we recognize the
flotilla of caiques and its rustic cafes, with wide-
spread coloured awnings and wandering garlands
of vines below the tomb of the celebrated Bar-
barossa, High Admiral of Soleyman the Great,
with the mosque and school of his foundation. The

O UR BE A UTIFUL WA TER WA Y 339

cupola of the tomb has lately lost the gilt anchor on
the point which marked its especial character, and
if care be not taken the building will ere long dis-
appear from view, hidden in the maze of branches
of the ancient trees by which it is surrounded.

We have just left a palace, and again it is a
palace that fills our little frame. Tcheraghan,
where no princely personage lives, or will prob-
ably ever live, is the most extensive, as it is the
finest, of the modern palaces of the Bosphorus ;
in Moorish style, with a happy mixture of coloured
marbles and of red and green pilasters orna-
menting each window of the graceful fagade.
The palace of Tcheraghan was built by the
Sultan Abdul Aziz ; on the completion of the
work he signified his intention of inspecting the
building, and, entering the principal doorway, most
unhappily stumbled on the threshold. This was
an augury of such direful portent that the Sultan
refused to set foot again in the beautiful but
fateful palace ; by a sad irony of fate, it was to
this place that he was brought after his deposition,
and it was here that he died.

Behind the palace, beautiful gardens and park-
like uplands roll their masses of rich foliage to

22 — 2

340 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

the summit of the hill, with pavilions and kiosks
half-buried in the dense leafage.

The rounded hillside has glided away ; it is
a rough bit of nature that now takes its place :
a projecting bluff, half rock, half red-earth, a
cascade of branches and wild creepers, a majestic
cypress or two, some venerable sycamores, cupolas,
wooden kiosks in decay, bits of old wall, rose-
coloured once, now faded by sun and wind, a
neglected corner of an ancient garden, happily
free as yet from modern embellishments.

We stop ; it is the ' scala ' of Ortakeuy ; the
background of the picture is not interesting, but
cries and strange sounds are heard from the gang-
way. An immense Angora sheep has to be got
on board, and the owner is dragging it by its
gilded horns ; the beautiful silky fleece is speckled
over with gold-leaf and rose-coloured spots, a
bright ribbon is round its neck, and the broad
brow displays a medal. The poor beast, a sadly
unwilling traveller, is pulled in front, poked from
behind ; the captain gets impatient, the sailors
scream and gesticulate, everyone offers advice, to
which no one listens, and at length the creature
is embarked, leaving the gangway free for other

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 341

passengers. Here are two Sisters of Charity,
with their snowy caps and gentle presence ; an
Albanian, his broad belt fitted with weapons, some
young Greek girls, and lastly an exalted eccle-
siastic of an Eastern Church, who advances with
dignified calm, ignoring the general impatience.

We are rounding a projecting corner of one of
the numerous curves that make the beauty and
the charm of Bosphorus scenery, and the boat
runs quite close in shore, almost touching the
quay, in front of a vast wooden building, a palace,

though not strictly imperial, belonging to A

Sultana, aunt of the present Sultan, married to
the Minister of Marine. The lady is strict in
all matters of propriety, therefore the ground-floor
windows are furnished with ' cafesses ' (wooden
gratings) of the severest pattern, not, as is
customary, three parts up, but reaching quite to
the top, so that the fair ' halaiks ' have not the
smallest chance of exhibiting even the tips of
their slender henna-tipped fingers to the admira-
tion of passing strangers. One may imagine,
therefore, the agitation, the excitement, that
reigned behind those jealous blinds, when it was
announced in the harem that the six most beautiful

342 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

girls belonging to the household were to be pre-
pared to appear before the Sultan, to whom his
sister had promised the choice of one of their
number. The reason of the promise is thus
related. A Sultana had an only and dearly-
loved daughter, whom she wished to marry to
a son-in-law of her own choice ; the Padischah
had other intentions, in the interest of a favourite
courtier ; there were many and long discussions
between the brother and sister, and at length the
lady, a woman of great determination, carried her
point, but upon the condition that the Princess
should present the Sultan with the most beautiful
girl in her household.

The six fairest were chosen and taken to the
palace by the chief Agha. Dressed alike in
white satin, they formed such a fascinating group
of beauties that the dazzled Sultan, unable to
make a choice, declared that at least two of the
number must remain. The Agha protested ; the
monarch was inflexible, and the unhappy guardian
of the girls, incapable of bringing forward fresh
arguments that might be sufficiently respectful,
called in the Princess (in hiding behind a half-
open door), and the discussions recommenced ;

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 343

but this time the lady had to yield, and the Sultan,
by way of consolation to those who had not been
chosen, led them before some enormous coffers,
telling them to take and carry away all that they
could grasp. The girls plunged their hands, their
arms, into a mass of diamonds, rubies, pearls,
precious stones of all kinds, and could scarcely tear
themselves at length from this almost fabulous
wealth.

This story, if not strictly true in every detail,
is at least ' ben trovato.' The conclusion is so
thoroughly characteristic of the insensate luxury
of the East — to amass fortunes in precious stones ;
to shut them up in coffers from which they rarely
see the light ; to keep vast riches lying useless
and forgotten. Who knows the amount of these
buried resources ? And the peasantry starve for
lack of roads to utilize their harvests. Govern-
ment clerks without regular payment live in
misery or rob in order to live. The country is
impoverished ; commerce is failing ; and all this
time they say untold wealth, sufficient to reani-
mate business, to succour all this misery and want,
remains buried in the forgotten coffers of more
than one Imperial serai.

344 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Our steamer is crossing the Bosphorus to touch
at Candilli, where the Sultana just mentioned has
a summer palace — an imposing-looking building
that crowns the high promontory ; then, gliding
past the ruins of the old castle of Anatoli Hissar,
we reach some wildly picturesque, antique wooden
houses on the edge of the water, and a small
kiosk standing partly out in the stream on piles.

It consists of one large room beautifully deco-
rated in the Persian style, which gives it the name,
commonly used, of ' The Persian Kiosk/ but it is
more properly called the Tulip Kiosk, on account of
its origin and history. A certain Grand Vezir of
Sultan Selim II., in order to ingratiate himself
with his master, who was passionately fond of
tulips, pretended that he also was smitten with
tulipomania, and that he possessed some rare and
unique bulbs, and he induced the Sultan to promise
that he would himself see and judge of the beauty
of the flowers described. Perhaps some question
of self-interest made it highly "desirable that the
visit to the Grand Vezir, a very rare and unusual
circumstance, should be duly noticed and com-
mented on ; at any rate, Ahmed Pasha had the
kiosk rapidly built (being of wood, it could be

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 345

done in a few days), the plots of ground on either
side planted with rare bulbs in full bloom, and a
broad band of frieze below the ceiling painted
with a long row of the most beautiful and varie-
gated amongst them.

The story, as I learnt it, has no sequel ;
whether the Pasha gained any advantage by his
magical promptitude remains a mystery, but the
kiosk is still there, with its exquisite interior
decorations, and the frieze of tulips all in fairly
good preservation. It now belongs, with the
adjoining property, to the Scheik of an order of
Dervishes.

We cross the Bosphorus once more, for we are
still in the 'zigzag' boat, to touch at Emirghian,
where the fine range of Yalis lining the shore,
and the magnificent gardens reaching to the
summit of the high hill, are the property of the
Khedive of Egypt ; then$ by one or two more
crossings, by which many passengers are landed
at the fashionable summer resorts of Therapia
and Buyukdereh, that are dignified by a succession
of * Palaces' of the various great Embassies, we
emerge from the seemingly endless panorama of
brick and mortar, stone and marble, and rejoice

346 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

in rugged hillsides, crags, and heather- covered
slopes ; the wide horizon of the Black Sea in
front, the fort of Roumeli Kavak on our left, as
we turn once more towards Asia, and stop at the
last scala on the list of stations, Anatoli Kavak.

At Kavak there is ' paidos,' which means a
pause for rest before starting on the return
voyage. In the deep shadows of the beautiful
bay, the quaint old galleon-shaped vessels from
the Black Sea, with the high prow and carved
and ornamental stern, ride at anchor ; the furled
sails, the masts, and ropes, relieved against the
fresh green of mulberry and plane-tree, are re-
peated in the clear depth of the liquid mirror
below.

In the deep shade, rustic shops in irregular
line display bunches of candles, eggs in wire
baskets, spades, ropes, sausages of dried mutton,
sugar-plums, cheese and various sweet stuffs in
rude glass bottles. A quiet group of venerable
loungers seated on the low stools (iskemle) nod
their turbans as they sip coffee or smoke the
peaceful narghile. The shadows are broken here
and there by bright flickers of sunlight, or the
gleam of a white minaret beyond the leafy boughs ;

O UR BE A UTIF UL WA TER WAY 347

at the foot of the noble tree-trunks, with their
spreading roots, the clear water ripples, in which
myriads of tiny fish glance and dart and sparkle.
Beyond the deep shadows, a broad warm light on
boats and sails, through which a blue vapour rises
from an ancient caique that is undergoing the
process of pitching ; two old Turks in red jackets
are looking on, and the heavy graceful masses of
the great fishing nets stream and wave from the
giant branches.

Near the rude landing-stage a display of melons
and various fruits is protected at the back by a
screen of old tawny-coloured matting, and behind
this is a rustic coffee-shop, its rude balcony graced
by a bright row of flowering balsams. Now and
again a man in gay-coloured jacket and crimson
fez will saunter across the gleam of sunlight, or a
woman with trailing feradji and fluttering veil pass
silently with her pitcher towards the well at the
foot of the great plane-tree. . . . But the steamer
is once more moving ; we are leaving the shore
of Asia, and as we steam out into the Bosphorus
the grand masses of the ruined castle of Anatoli
Kavak, sometimes called the Genoese Castle, with
its long range of towers and walls following the

348 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

dip of the valley and reaching to the shore, appears
to rise slowly and majestically above the wilder-
ness of foliage and the peaceful old-world Asiatic
village on the shore.

We are crossing towards Europe ; on the right
the broad horizon of the Black Sea looks to-day
calm and innocent, its blue surface dotted with
white sails against a bluer sky, and we have, in
turning, a momentary glimpse of the rugged forms
of the Cyanean rocks rising grim and gray near
the foot of hills that are green with bilberry
bushes, heather and wild lavender.

A little further on the picturesque group of
' dalyans ' (fishing huts), with their attendant boats
and wide circle of nets, crowns a bewildering maze
of poles and ropes and ladders. These dalyans
are in some places merely represented by an
immense inclined pole, as in the Bay of Beikos ;
it supports a man who, from that height, can see
the shoals of fish hurrying on their travels towards
the Sea of Marmora, and direct the operations of
the fishermen below.

We touch at Roumeli Kavak, where some
ruins of a castle crown the summit of the highest
hill ; at Mezar Bournoa ; at Buyukdereh, and at

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 349

Therapia ; then, at a sharp angle, pass over to Asia,
below the Giant's Mountain and the marble palace
of Beikos, to pause in the beautiful green inlet of
that most lovely spot, for the valley behind the
palace, dear to innumerable parties of cricketers,
is chiefly remembered by the artist for its stately
and venerable trees, its soft turf, and the sylvan
beauty of its days of unruffled solitude.

We are now rapidly passing down with the
current, and wondering at the transformation that
a few years have accomplished at Pasha Bagtche.
Four villas standing in lovely gardens full of leafy
shade are backed by hills clothed thickly with
foliage, where, eight or ten years since, the whole
space and rising ground was peeled and bare,
and the beautiful groves and villas as yet un-
thought of.

But we are drawing near to a ' scala ' where
destruction in that same period shows in an orna-
mental balustrade, ruined, and forlornly crowning
a flight of broken steps that lead to nothing but
a mass of charred fragments ; all that now marks
the site of the handsome yali of the celebrated
statesman, Fuad Pasha. It was here that, long
years ago, a brilliant fete was given in honour of

350 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

the Sultan's birthday ; it included a ball in the
harem (between ladies only, as a matter of course),
and the curious contrast — the struggle between the
old style of dress and the endeavour to imitate
French fashions — was a sight not easily forgotten.
Two Egyptian Princesses — visitors — splendidly
dressed in robes stiff with gold embroidery, sat
in haughty indifference to the gay scene, smoking
cigarettes in holders incrusted with jewels ; the
Buyuk Hanum (Mme. Fuad), in a costume of
severe simplicity, looked as if she wore her
dressing-gown, while a tiny niece — a child, yet
already married — stood before her in a fashionable
dress of rose-coloured satin and lace distended
over a balloon-like crinoline. Crinoline, alas !
had already invaded the harems, and as the
younger women did not yet dare to cover the
schalwars (wide trousers) with a fistan or skirt
(strongly condemned by the stricter ladies as
being a ' ghiaour ' dress, and therefore highly
objectionable), the effect of the upper part, with-
out the accompanying flowing lines and folds,
was, to say the least, extremely comical.

. . . The steamer is still hurrying onwards,
with scream and whistle as we approach the

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 351

various headlands and landing-stages, and we
are passing the spot where, in a gale of wind, the
prow of a vessel carried off the projecting portion
of a house overhanging the water. It floated
gaily down towards the Bay of Kurfess, a
beautiful creek, opposite the ' yali ' and grounds
of the late Halim Pasha of Egypt at Balta Siman.
I can never look upon that group of buildings
without a saddened remembrance of the charming
and graceful Circassian girl who had been care-
fully educated with the eldest daughter of the
Pasha, and whom, after that daughter's death, he
married — Vidjany Hanum, best known as the
Princess Halim. She was a lovely woman, when,
not expecting visits of ceremony, she reclined on
the broad divan in a flowing morning gown of
some soft creamy material, her rich, dark hair
confined by one wide band of diamonds. When
receiving State visitors she wore costumes sent
from Paris, and lost as far as could be possible
the greater part of her graceful charm ; but that
she was in every respect worthy of esteem and
regard, no better testimony in her favour could
be given than the high appreciation expressed by
our ever-lamented Ambassadress, Lady Elliot.

352 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Vidjany Hanum died a victim to the disease so
often fatal to Circassian women — consumption, but
one or two letters written to me in perfect French
are amongst the cherished relics of days and
friends for ever passed away from earth.

I pause at Candilli on the Asiatic shore ; it is
the narrowest part of the strait, so narrow that the
bark of dogs and music in the water-side cafes
can be distinctly heard from either Continent ; it
is also the most lovely and the most interesting
portion of our ' Beautiful Waterway,' offering the
strangest contrasts between the old and the new
customs, manners, ways of life, dying prejudices
and daring innovations.

From a window overhanging the stream one
sees on the right hand the small marble palace of
Gueuk Sou, shining and carved and fretted ;
beyond it, a meadow bordered by a fine grove of
trees ; then a space of rather marshy, reed-grown
land, on which an insignificant board marks the
spot where the great telegraph lines to India and
the far East cross between Europe and Asia ;
beyond this a tiny stream (the Sweet Waters)
flows into the Bosphorus at the foot of a gaunt
gray ruin, a massive square keep, some round

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 353

towers, and a broken line of crenellated walls.
They take us back to the times when Tamerlane
had not as yet overrun with his wild hordes this
beautiful Asiatic shore, for this Castle of Anatoli
was built, or at least founded, by Badjazet Yilderim
in the height of his power and magnificence, about
fifty years before the opposite castle of Roumeli
was erected as a*n outwork of the enclosing
circle that reduced the power of the expiring
Byzantine Empire to the space within the walls of
the city which bore, and still bears, the name of
its founder, Constantine.

What an exquisitely varied scene is this water-
way between the two Hissars! what movement!
what animation ! what wonderful variety ! from the
slender caique, the little skiff, the ' sandal,' the
* mahone,' the busy steam-launch, the Bosphorus
steamers, to the stately three- and sometimes four-
masted vessels that carry passengers and goods
between England, France, Austria and Italy and
the ports of the Black Sea. They keep as far as
possible the middle of the stream, going upwards
light in the water, with much of the red keel visible ;
returning laden with grain, or it may be with
petroleum from Bacu and Batoum.

354 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

Close in shore a lively commerce is being
carried on, for in summer-time the Bosphorus
becomes a sort of water-market ; every imaginable
article of daily use floats and dances on the
wavelets under the windows of the ' yalis,' and it
is quite easy to conclude important bargains from
a first-floor balcony.

A fisherman pulls up slowly and stops ; the
fresh fish is leaping in the bottom of his boat ; an
animated discussion is carried on ; he asks too
much, and as he pulls away, a common-looking,
shabby craft drifts round the projecting corner of
the house, and a wailing, dolorous lament proclaims
that a beggar has chartered a caique to pursue his
doleful calling. The next craft means tangible
business ; it is a boat laden with porcelain, glass
and crockery ; it is followed by heaps of vegetables,
baskets of fruit, mounds of melons. A pretty
sight is a boat-load of flowers in pots ; then
comes into view a haberdasher's display of printed
stuffs, muslins, laces, calicoes ; the butcher and
the baker also find this water-way the most con-
venient road to custom ; and a barrel-organ in
solitary state enlivens the scene from its' own
private caique. A little later in the afternoon

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 355

ice-creams (' caimakli dondurma ') begin to float
upwards towards the fashionable promenade of
thie Sweet Waters, and many boat-loads of holiday-
makers are hastening to land in the shadow of the
grove of trees that partly conceals a beautiful
fountain, a well-known landmark, or, pushing on
still further, enter the little river beneath the grim
old ruined castle. There are many parties of
Turkish ladies, some in the brilliant and delicate
colours that produce such combinations of tints
with the pearly blue of the water and the soft
green of the grass and foliage ; others in the now
fashionable shrouding of black silk from head to
foot. As to this funereal garment is often added
a half-veil of black gauze, or, worse still, a dark
muslin with tawny, leprous-looking spots, one may
well feel that in truth * the old order changeth,'
and that the much-vaunted brilliancy of Eastern
costume is here at least rapidly vanishing.

The boats, however, are gaily painted — white,
with a bright blue or green band ; they skim the
water like swallows, all streaming towards the
outlet of the little river under the gray ruins.
They are bound for the gay gathering near the
wooden bridge of Gueuk Sou, and the graceful

356 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

seagulls, scarcely disturbed by the glancing
caiques, are hovering, circling, dipping their white
and pearl-gray wings, adding an exquisite grace
1 and beauty to this busy, animated scene.

We look across the Strait towards the hill of
Roumeli Hissar, that, to the old inhabitant, offers
more startling contrasts, more clear evidence of
change, than any spot on these historic shores.
The extreme point, rising sharply from the water,
where the current is so strong (they call it the
Devil's Current) that boats are often towed along
it for some distance, is, in the lower part, a
Mussulman cemetery, and in the memory of the
writer that hillside was thickly grown with
cypress-trees. It was very beautiful, casting deep
reflections in the water. A massive round tower
rose majestically above the dark foliage. To-day
the trees have mostly disappeared, and such as
remain look scanty and meagre. The blame is
sometimes laid to the charge of a little teke of
Dervishes that exists in the corner of the cemetery,
in the shadow of a tower on the quay. To wilfully
cut down a living cypress in a cemetery is for-
bidden, but it is not difficult to wound the tree so
that it withers and threatens to fall ; then it is

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 357

legitimate prey, and cypress wood, so easily
embarked and sent to Stamboul, is much esteemed
there for trunks and boxes, as a preservative
against moth ; so the little old teke still flourishes,
as the charm and beauty of the spot is passing
away.

Looking further up the hillside, we see the
battlemented summit of another of the four towers,
that, with their connecting walls, compose the
circuit of this old fortress. Beside that tower,
nestled against it, stands a picturesque, old-
fashioned, red wooden house, the property and
summer residence of one whose name was widely
known and honoured for his high character of in-
corruptible integrity, his great learning, and his
splendid library — Ahmed Vefyk Pasha — and those
who knew him in his family circle will never cease
to regret the kind and bright welcome in that
home that, through long years, had never failed.
It was a patriarchal household : the aged and
honoured mother of the Pasha, the one wife and
their family of five, two sons and three daughters.
The world is poorer for the loss of that learned
and kindly man.

But a startling contrast awaits us on a still

358 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

higher platform, above and beyond the topmost
tower of the old fortress, in a stately pile of build-
ings that had no existence when first I knew the
red wooden konak. It is the great American
College — a splendid institution, undertaken and
carried on by a staff of professors of the highest
order, where the most modern of scientific in-
ventions, the most startling discoveries of this end
of the century, are known and expounded almost
before the world in general has even heard of
them ; where lecture-hall, library, museum, every
appliance for study and also for healthy recreation,
combined with a perfectly-organized system of
careful training and kindly discipline, have already
sent into the world men who are capable of
making their mark in their generation, and of
raising the standard of principle and conduct
among the smaller States of Eastern Europe.

Must we look higher still ? Yes, to the very
summit of the highest hill ;._ but what we there
look upon must take the mind back a few centuries,
for the rather uninteresting dwelling that crosses
the point where the grove of trees stands dark
against the golden glow of the sunset is a ' chiflik,'
or farm-house, at the same time that it is the

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 359

teke of a celebrated order of Dervishes — the
Bektashies. A remote ancestor of the family,
Hadji Bektash, in the time of Orkan, about five
centuries ago, blessed and gave the name to the
newly-formed body of troops, calling them ' Yeni
Chery ' (the new troops), which name we have con-
verted into janissaries. Hadji Bektash and his
descendants became attached to this body of
troops, and followed Mehemet Ghazi to the
conquest of Constantinople, when the Bektash
Dervishes fixed their teke on this hilltop, and
were there buried in a little cemetery under the
grove of dark trees.

The office is hereditary ; each succeeding
Scheik of these Dervishes has been laid to rest in
that spot, and the present dignitary, when his time
shall come, will be succeeded by his son Mahmoud.

The cemetery, in which the Dervishes' burial-
ground is enclosed within rough palings, is known
as * The Cemetery of the Faithful,' as it is sup-
posed that those who died in the castle before
the siege of Constantinople, or who fell during
that siege, were buried here. It is a most lovely
spot, and offers, as many think, the finest pano-
ramic views on the Bosphorus. The lowering

360 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

sun's rays are streaming through the gnarled
branches of the grove, touching here a tuft of
flowering cistus, there a mossy, irregular grave-
stone ; they pass across the pale mists in the deep
valley, to touch with bright dashes of vivid green
the stately crown of a splendid stone-pine ; to
glance upon the tall cypress ; then — with a golden
glow upon the ancient battlemented towers — strike
sparks of fire from the palaces and houses of
Candilli on the Asiatic shore, and fade into the
pearly mists of distance, through which, far away
on the right of the picture, the mosques and
minarets of Stamboul gleam as in a fairy vision.

And thus from this point of exquisite beauty
we look — perhaps our last — upon this fair land of
' lost opportunities '; a land so blessed by the
Almighty Giver of all beautiful things that rejoice
the heart of man ; so blighted, so cursed, alas !
by the shuddering horror that throws a pall in
these dying years of our century over what might
have been — over what may yet become — almost an
earthly Paradise.

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 361

NOTE ON ANATOLI KAVAK.

THE following notes and information on the subject of Anatoli
Kavak are entirely due to the late learned Dr. van Millingen,
and were kindly communicated to the author by his son,
Mr. Julius van Millingen.

Kavak. — On the summit of the hill there formerly stood
one of the most renowned temples of antiquity — that of the
twelve gods of the air and the sea, generally known as the
temple of Jupiter Ourius (the fortune-giver). According to
tradition, Thrisus, the son of Nephile and Adamante, offered
sacrifice on this spot on his return from the Argonautic ex-
pedition, which occurred about twelve hundred years before
our era.

The place was considered sacred, and was called ' The
Jeron.' Thither mariners used to resort to appease the gods
with purifications, and make them propitious with gifts and
sacrifices before undertaking a voyage into the Euxine.

Jupiter, Neptune, and Diana were the divinities principally
worshipped; but in the temple ultimately raised stood the
statues of twelve divinities ; that of Jupiter, in gold, was the
most conspicuous.

The desire to possess a spot commanding such influence
and wealth naturally led to many a conflict. The Chalce-
donians, on several occasions, wrested it from the Byzantines,
returning it only on payment of large sums of money. It
was also taken by Prusius, King of Bithynia, but finally re-
stored to the Byzantines, who at length fortified it, and
stretched a chain to the Thracian shore, in order to prevent
ships from passing without paying toll.

The temple is supposed to have been converted by Con-
stantine into a Christian church ; but, according to ojthers, the

362 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

materials were employed by Justinian in building a church to
St. Pantalei'mon, on a rocky eminence above Kavak. It had
doubtless repeatedly been despoiled of its wealth by the inroads
of the Persians, the Goths, the Gauls, and others.

According to Herodotus, when Darius had reached the
Bosphorus and his artizans were throwing a bridge between
the two Hissars, he sailed up the Straits and visited the sacred
spot on the summit of the Kavak hill, whence he gazed on the
Euxine extended before him. The Euxine was then considered
the most wonderful of seas, and Darius, who intended sending
his fleet thence into the Danube, may not improbably have
attempted to propitiate the ruling divinities with sacrifices.

The Persians were probably masters of the spot till 479 B.C.
The Scythians who pillaged the Bosphorus between the years
350 and 400 B.C. were undoubtedly unwelcome visitors to the
place, which also must have suffered when, in 378, Brennus
crossed the Bosphorus with 10,000 Gauls. The following in-
scription, found on a slab at Kadikeuy, and now in the British
Museum, would indicate that it was under the rule of Philo
Anti pater :

* The navigator who invokes Jupiter Ourius in behalf of a
fortunate voyage among the steep Cyanean rocks, filled with
numerous shoals scattered here and there, may have a pros-
perous voyage, if he beforehand sacrifices to the god whose
statue has been placed here by Philo Antipater, so as to be a
help and a good augury to navigators.'

Falling into the hands of the Romans, it was seized by
Mithridates.

Gibbon relates that in 196 B.C. the Goths entered the Bos-
phorus, and so great was the terror inspired by these barbarians
that the garrison of Chalcedon, sent up to the heights of
Kavak, although far more numerous than the invaders, fled
at their approach.

OUR BEAUTIFUL WATERWAY 363

Kavak was attacked by the Russians in 865 and in 941.
The castle on its heights was taken by the Genoese ; it was
besieged by Haroun-al-Rashid, and finally taken by the Turks
under Bayezid.

This castle was built after the time of Constantine. The
gateway between the two towers of the citadel belongs to
another epoch, and was, perhaps, removed from the former
temple of Jupiter Ourius. Several shafts of columns, capitals,
friezes, and marble slabs may be seen in the walls, and, doubt-
less, belonged to the building, remains of which are found in
the cemetery under the grove of trees a few hundred yards
distant.

The castle was called the Jeron Polichnion (the Holy Light-
house) ; from this we would infer that it was also used as a
beacon.

On the wall over the main entrance we find a cross sur-
mounting the crescent, with the letters '<i>C. XC. ¥0. IIC.'
which, recalling the name, allude to the words of the Greek
Litany, ' Light of Christ, shine over all.'

On the sides of the towers facing the gate may be seen two
crosses opposite to each other, and two on the sides facing the
cemetery ; one of these is half hidden by the ivy.

On the walls inside the citadel are two other crosses — one a
double cross, with the letters opposite each arm, 1C XC M3
KC ('Jesus Christ, the Lord Conqueror'). The other cross
has a carved arch and two columns around it, with the follow-
ing letters, A.H.M.C., probably forming the initials of the
emperor under whose reign the castle was built or restored.

Santi speaks of a Latin inscription existing in his day to the
effect that ' Lercarius, a citizen of Genoa, repaired, at his own
expense, and extended to the sea, the fortifications of the
sacred promontory which had been destroyed by the injuries
of time '; but there is no trace of it to be seen to-day. As

364 OLD TRACKS AND NEW LANDMARKS

already mentioned, the castle was held for a time by the
Genoese ; it still bears their name, and a number of Venetian
and foreign coins are dug up by the gardeners at the foot of
the hill.

The citadel had two gates, one facing the south, the other
the east, as already mentioned ; this latter had a portcullis, of
which the traces may still be seen. During the last siege by
the Turks, a wall was built before the gate, and the space
between filled up with rubbish, so as to hide it completely.
The number of arrow-heads found close against the walls of
the towers would lead one to suppose that this was done by
the besieged, to prevent the gate from being forced open.

It was by a mere accident that, in 1863, Dr. Millingen dis-
covered the gate behind a breach in the wall. The British
Museum having failed to obtain permission to make excava-
tions, Dr. Millingen applied to the Turkish Government, and
had the rubbish near the gate cleared away ; but not finding
any other objects but skulls and arrow-heads, the Turks gave
up the undertaking as unremunerative.

I think there is little doubt that the temple of Jupiter Ourius
stood in the cemetery called, owing to the graves of Mussul-
mans who fell during the siege of the castle, ' Shei'tler,' or Place
of Martyrs. The spot is strewn with carved stones, which the
Turks made use of as tombstones. The size of some of these
is so large as to negative the supposition that they may have
been brought there for that purpose.

The position is admirably suited for a temple such as history
records, and it needs only an enterprising Schliemann, and an
unsuspicious government, to ensure the discovery of many
hidden treasures.

Among the archaeological remains found on the spot we
may allude to :

(i) A basso-relievo, found by some fishermen in the sea,.

O UR BE A UTIFUL WA TER IV A Y 365

below the grove, and purchased by Dr. Millingen ; it is now in
the British Museum. It represents two female figures, seated,
measuring a rod with the span ; two other figures, a male and
a female, are standing beside them, and evidently awaiting the
decision that will be given by Rhabdomancy. (2) A slab with
the letters ANAZH2I in high relief. (3) A large slab found at
Anatoli Kavak in 1877, w^h a long inscription in Greek.

THE END.

BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD.

y, D. &> Co.

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