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THE    TALE    OF 

A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 


THE  TALE  OF 

A  Tour  in  Macedonia 


BY 

G.    F.   ABBOTT 


WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS 


LONDON 
EDWARD     ARNOLD 

Publisijcr  to  %M>  3Intiia  ©fficc 
1903 

[All  rights  reserved] 


TO 

THEIR  EXCELLENCIES 
THE  TURKISH  GOVERNMENT  OFFICIALS 

WHO  SO  GENEROUSLY  CONTRIBUTED  TO 

THE    ENJOYMENT    OF    HIS    TOUR 

THIS  HUMBLE  RECORD  OF  IT 

IS    GRATEFULLY    INSCRIBED 

BY  THE  AUTHOR 


"  Doubtless  tJu  pleasure  is  as  great 
Of  being  cheated  as  to  cheat." 

— HuDiBRAS,  Part  II.,  Canto  iii. 


PREFATORY    NOTE 

The  Tour,  the  tale  of  ^which  is  told  in  the  following 
pages,  represents  part  of  an  expedition  to  Macedonia 
carried  out  by  the  author,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
University  of  Cambridge,  with  a  view  to  studying 
the  folk-lore  of  that  country.  The  results  of  his 
researches  are  embodied  in  a  special  work  which  will 
shortly  be  published  by  the  University  Press.  The 
present  volume  contains  some  of  the  explorer's  adven- 
tures— if  this  be  not  too  ambitious  a  description  of 
his  mild  experiences  —  and  observations  on  men, 
women,  and  Government  officials.  His  aim  has  been 
merely  to  describe  things  as  they  presented  themselves 
to  his  own  eyes,  without  favour  and  without  fear. 
In  endeavouring  to  be  fair  to  all  he  has  probably 
succeeded  in  oflfending  all.  But  "  even  Zeus  himself, 
when  he  rains,  fails  to  please  every  one." 

The  author's  best  thanks  are  due  to  the  editor 
and  proprietors  of  The  Guardian  for  their  courteous 
permission  to  reproduce  those  parts  of  his  narrative 
which  have  already  appeared  in  their  periodical. 

Emmanuel  College,  Cambridge 
January  21,  1903 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

I.  ALONG  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  VARDAR 
II.  THESSALONIOA  PAST  AND  PRESENT 

III.  A  CITY  OF  MANY  TONGUES 

IV.  AN  EASTERN  JUBILEE   .... 
V.  DANCING  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  FUNCTION 

VI.  HOW  I  BECAME  A  FRENCH  JOURNALIST 
VII.  FROM  SALONICA  TO  SERRES 

VIII.  SERRES 

IX.  A  STRUGGLE  FOR  SUPREMACY   . 
X.  PREPARATIONS  FOR  DEPARTURE      . 

XL  DEMIR-HISSAR 

XII.  CAVALLERIA  RUSTICANA       . 

XIII.  ARRIVAL  AT  MELENIK  .... 

XIV.  A  SUNDAY  AT  MELENIK 
XV.  FURTHER  RESEARCHES  AT  MELENIK 

XVI.  ON  THE  ROAD  TO  PETRITZ  . 
XVII.  TABLE-TALK  OF  HADJI  DEMIR  BEY 

XVIII.  A  CHRISTIAN  FAIR 

XIX.  A  MOHAMMEDAN  FETE 
XX.  THE  PEOPLE  OF  PETRITZ     . 
XXI.  AMONG  THE  GIPSIES       .... 
XXII.  SOME  MELANCHOLY  COMEDIES  . 


PAGE 
I 

12 

i8 

31 

37 
41 
45 
65 

n 

88 

93 
103 
118 
129 
141 

151 
162 

171 
177 
181 
186 
195 


X  CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PAGE 

XXIII.  FAEEWELL  TO  PETRITZ 202 

XXIV.  BACK  TO  SERRES 207 

XXV.  TO  THE  SOUTH  OF  SERRES 213 

XXVI.  THE  NIGRITANS  AND  THEIR  NEIGHBOURS     .     226 
XXVII.  FROM  NIGRITA  TO  TACHINO         .        .        .        .238 

XXVIII.  A  VOYAGE  AND  AN  IDYLL 246 

XXIX.  A  NIGHT  AT  PROVISTA 253 

XXX.  ON  THE  ROAD  TO  ANGHISTA        .        .         .        .259 

XXXI.  AT  THE  STATION 264 

XXXII.  LETTER-WRITING  AND  ITS  PERILS    .         .        .272 

XXXIIL  DRAMA 276 

XXXIV.  IN  THE  FOOTSTEPS  OF  ST.  PAUL        .        .        .283 

XXXV.  CA VALLA 293 

XXXVI.  TEMBEL-HANEH,  OR  THE  LAZY  MAN'S  HOME     303 

XXXVII.  A  PILGRIMAGE  TO  THE  HOLY  MOUNT     .        .     309 

XXXVIII.  AMONG  THE  LOTOS-EATERS  .        .        .        .317 

XXXIX.  A  TALE  OF  WOE 327 

INDEX 338 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

THE  PALACE  OF  ALEXANDER  THE  GREAT        .  Frontispiece 

USKUB to  face  page  lo 

THE  MOSQUE  OF  ST.  SOPHIA  (After  the  Great 

Fire  op  1891) „        „      30 

MY  PASSPORT „        „      42 

MELENIK „        „     144 

DRAMA „        „     282 

CAVALLA „        „     302 

THE    LAVRA,    ONE    OF    THE   TWENTY  MONAS- 
TERIES ON  MT.  ATHOS „        ,,330 

MAP  OF  MACEDONIA at  md 


THE   TALE    OF 

A   TOUR   IN   MACEDONIA 

CHAPTER  I 
ALONG  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  VARDAR 

August  27,  1900. — ^  It  was  early  morning  when  we 
crossed  the  Servian  frontier.  Soon  after,  the  train 
drew  up  at  Zebevtche,  the  first  station  in  Turkish 
territory.  The  halt,  though  brief,  was  quite  long 
enough  to  give  one  a  foretaste  of  the  joys  attending 
on  Turkish  travel.  Everything  from  a  portmanteau 
to  an  umbrella,  and  from  a  hat-box  to  a  French  novel, 
had  to  be  opened  and  carefully  examined  beneath  the 
low  roof  of  the  barn-like  building  which  did  duty  as  a 
custom-house.  Here  the  meek  and  mild  French  mis- 
sionary's bag  was  rummaged  for  contraband  arms.  A 
little  lower  down  an  enterprising  Austrian  commercial 
traveller  was  forced  to  unfold  his  samples,  in  order  to 
show  that  there  was  no  dynamite  concealed  within 
them.  Farther  off,  a  middle-aged  Swiss  governess  in 
smoked  glasses  was  making  frantic,  though  alas !  fruit- 
less efforts  to  explain  to  the  Turkish  official  that  a 
kodak  was  not  an  infernal  machine,  nor  a  German 
grammar  a  lampoon  on  the  Sultan. 

Having   taken   a   bird's-eye  view  of  the   scene,   I 
turned  my  attention  to  my  own  belongings.      The  first 

A 


2  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

portmanteau  had  been  searched  and  found  guiltless  of 
treasonable  matter,  and  now  the  Youmhrouk  Mudir,  or, 
as  he  loved  to  call  himself,  Chef  de  la  Douane,  was 
busy  ransacking  the  second.  He  was  just  in  the  act  of 
taking  out  and  shaking  a  Norfolk  jacket  and  some 
other  articles  of  masculine  apparel,  which  need  not 
be  more  fully  described,  when  he  gave  a  start. 

*'I  thought  as  much,"  he  grunted  in  an  ominous 
tone,  but  in  excellent  English,  as  he  pulled  out  some 
newspapers  and  books  which  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the 
box.  "These  things  will  have  to  be  kept  here,  sir,'' 
he  concluded,  sternly. 

In  vain  did  I  exhaust  all  my  eloquence  in  an  en- 
deavour to  convince  him  that  the  newspapers  contained 
nothing  fatal  to  the  integrity  of  the  Ottoman  Empire, 
and  that  the  books  treated  of  nothing  more  inflamma- 
tory than  love-making,  with  possibly  a  suicide  thrown 
in  here  and  there  for  efi'ect.  The  Chef  de  la  Douane 
refused  to  be  convinced.  Fortunately,  at  that  critical 
moment,  a  miniature  edition  of  Dante  met  the  official's 
eye.  He  paused  and  patted  the  volume  affectionately 
on  the  back,  casting  the  while  a  look  brimming  with 
meaning  at  its  owner.  I  suddenly  realised  that  I  was 
in  the  East,  and  in  a  would-be  casual  sort  of  way  re- 
marked that  he  could  keep  the  book,  if  he  liked.  The 
threatening  clouds  rolled  off"  the  Chef's  face  in  an  in- 
stant, and  his  countenance  was  overspread  with  the 
genial  sunshine  of  desire  gratified. 

"  All  right,"  he  said,  visibly  unbending ;  "  but,"  he 
added  in  an  undertone,  "  you  had  better  put  the  book 
in  your  pocket  for  the  present,  sir,  and  give  it  to  me 
later  on.     I  will  come  and  see  you  off",  sir." 

While  whispering  this  message  of  peace,  the  Chef 
de  la  Douane  pretended  to  be  investigating  the  re~ 


ALONG  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  VARDAR    3 

mainder  of  my  luggage.  Needless  to  say,  the  investi- 
gation henceforth  was  a  mere  matter  of  form.  Dante 
had  done  duty  as  bakshish. 

In  accordance  with  our  agreement  the  Chef  met  me 
at  the  door  of  my  carriage,  and  proved  that  he  was  not 
devoid  of  a  kind  of  grim  humour  by  politely  begging 
me  to  inscribe  my  name  on  the  fly-leaf  of  the  Divina 
Commedia,  by  way  of  a  souvenir.  I  complied  with 
his  request  and  then  handed  the  volume  to  him.  He 
seemed  to  be  exceedingly  pleased,  and  promised  faith- 
fully that  no  harm  would  come  to  the  batch  of  books 
and  papers  seized  previous  to  our  compact.  He  said 
that  it  was  not  possible  for  him  to  restore  them  to  me 
on  the  spot,  owing  to  the  presence  of  his  colleagues, 
but  that  he  would  forward  them  safely  to  Salonica, 
where  they  would  be  returned  to  me.  I  grieve  to  say 
that  I  never  saw  them  again. 

The  C^e/had  from  the  first  impressed  me  as  rather 
a  strange  specimen  of  a  Turk.  His  yellow  flaxen  beard 
and  quick  blue  eyes  had  something  foreign  in  them. 
Furthermore  the  fluency  with  which  he  spoke  both 
French  and  English,  and  his  appreciation  of  Italian 
poetry,  were  certainly  not  those  of  the  typical  Osmanli. 
So  before  parting  I  asked  him  what  nation  had  the 
privilege  of  calling  him  her  own. 

''Sir,"  he  replied  with  some  emphasis,  "I  am  a 
Mohammedan.     My  name  is  Mustafa  Efi'endi." 

Afterwards  I  found  that,  though  his  name  was 
Mustafa,  and  though  he  was  a  Mohammedan,  both 
name  and  religion  were  of  comparatively  recent 
growth,  and  that  he  really  was  a  Pole  by  birth — one 
of  those  adventurers  from  the  West  who  seek  in  Islam 
a  way  to  a  livelihood. 

However,  though  obviously  a  smart  man,  Mustafa 


4  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

EfFendi  was  not  well  versed  in  the  Turkish  custom- 
house regulations,  or  he  would  have  known  that 
Dante,  owing  to  some  uncomplimentary  allusions  to 
Mohammed,  is  a  forbidden  article  of  importation  into 
the  Prophet's  dominions  ;  a  distinction  which  he  shares 
with  electric  bells,  rifles,  tobacco,  dynamite,  Dr.  Morri- 
son's pills,  type-writers,  and  other  commodities  of  a 
revolutionary  character,  all  of  which,  when  detected, 
can  be  immediately  confiscated,  or,  what  is  practically 
the  same  thing,  appropriated  by  the  custom-house 
officials.  So,  highly  as  I  prized  my  Divina  Commedia, 
I  was  not  a  loser  by  the  transaction. 

The  journey  from  Zebevtche  to  Salonica  is  none  of 
the  most  cheering.  The  speed  of  the  train,  such  as  it 
is,  seems  to  decrease  in  direct  ratio  to  the  kilometres 
covered,  as  though  the  rusty  old  engine  were  getting 
gradually  tired  and  wanted  a  rest.  Yet  there  is  little 
apparent  cause  for  fatigue.  The  train,  like  a  lazy 
Turkish  pony,  stops  instinctively,  as  it  were,  at  every 
wretched  shed  dignified  by  the  name  of  station,  "tak- 
ing each  poor  halting-place  for  the  deeply  longed-for 
goal."  These  wayside  nuisances  generally  lie  at  an 
immense  distance  from  the  villages  whose  names  they 
bear,  and  to  the  uninitiated  traveller  seem  to  have  no 
reason  for  existing,  unless  it  be  to  harrow  his  own 
feelings. 

The  refreshment  room  afi'ords  nothing  more  re- 
freshing than  a  cup  of  thick  sediments  of  barley, 
roasted  and  ground  so  as  to  look  like  a  bad  imitation 
of  coffee,  accompanied  by  a  dirty  glass  of  water.  If 
the  unsophisticated  pilgrim,  misled  by  false  analogy, 
demands  "  drink,"  the  above  semi-liquids  will  be 
ofi'ered  to  him,  and  the  cafedji  will  expatiate  at 
great  length  on  the  "  lightness  "  of  the  beverage  and 


ALONG  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  VARDAR  5 

its  marvellous  hygienic  properties,  not  forgetting  to 
charge  an  extra  fee  for  the  lecture.  On  the  open 
space  outside  the  cafd — there  is  no  platform — some 
officials  in  uniforms  of  pre-Mosaic  pattern  stroll  up 
and  down,  casting  looks  of  mild  astonishment  at 
the  train,  as  though  it  were  the  last  thing  in  the 
world  they  expected  to  see  there,  or  inserting  their 
heads  at  the  windows  to  ascertain  what  is  going  on 
within  the  compartments.  A  troop  of  ragged  hamals 
lounge  against  the  front  wall  of  the  building,  or  lie 
listlessly  upon  the  bare  ground,  smoking  and  per- 
spiring in  the  sun.  These  porters  are  mostly  Ghegs, 
that  is.  North  Albanians ;  tall  bony  savages  with 
skulls  clean  shaven,  but  for  a  single  lock  of  hair  which 
grows  on  the  crown  of  the  head  and  gives  them  the 
appearance  of  a  tribe  of  red  Indians  despoiled  of  their 
plumage.  A  little  way  from  the  station  a  pair  of  zaj)- 
tiehs  stand  at  attention  until  the  train  is  fairly  off ; 
then  they  salute  and  climb  back  to  their  thatched 
hut  on  a  neighbouring  height,  to  resume  their  watch, 
or  maybe  their  slumbers.  These  men-at-arms  are 
intended  to  protect  the  traffic  from  the  attacks  of 
brigands.  It  is  to  be  presumed  that  they  succeed, 
for  I  never  heard  of  a  train  being  held  up  in  Turkey. 

As  the  train  crawls  wearily  on,  it  allows  the 
passenger  ample  time  to  study  the  scenery,  and,  if 
he  has  been  clever  enough  to  rescue  his  camera  from 
confiscation,  he  can  even  take  snapshot  views  from  the 
windows.  A  series  of  such  views  might  form  some- 
times a  picturesque,  often  an  interesting,  but  hardly 
ever  an  exhilarating  collection.  The  railway  to 
within  a  few  kilometres  of  Salonica  runs  parallel  to 
the  Vardar,  a  slow  and  muddy  river — "too  lazy  to 
keep  itself  clean  " — which,  as  it  proceeds  towards  its 


6  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

predestined  end,  gradually  gains  in  breadth  and 
volume,  though  not  in  beauty.  Homer  must  have 
been  nodding  indeed,  when  he  pronounced  the 
Vardar  (anciently  Axios)  "  the  fairest  of  streams." 
Its  banks  are  in  some  parts  ornamented  with  con- 
sumptive-looking willows  and  Agnus  castus;  but  as  a 
general  rule  they  exhibit  a  bare  winding  outline, 
unshaded  by  tree  and  unenlivened  by  the  presence 
of  man  or  beast.  At  this  time  of  year  most  of  its 
tributaries  are  dry,  their  waters  having  been  sucked 
up  by  the  scorching  rays  of  the  summer  sun,  and 
the  river  itself  has  shrunk  into  a  mere  brown  thread, 
sluggishly  meandering  down  the  middle  of  its  normal 
channel : — 

"  How  changed  from  where  it  ran 
Through  lands  where  not  a  leaf  was  dumb ; 
But  all  the  lavish  hills  would  hum 
The  murmur  of  a  happy  Pan  !  " 

One  would  fain  hope,  for  the  old  bard's  sake,  that 
the  Vardar  in  ancient  times  really  ran  amidst  such 
scenes  as  those  imagined  by  the  modern  poet ;  but,  if 
it  did,  its  taste  has  not  improved  with  age. 

Hills  denuded  of  vegetation,  and  stern  forbidding 
mountains,  sparsely  studded  with  dwarf  oaks  and 
shrubs,  alternate  with  flat,  ill-cultivated  fields  of  barley, 
maize,  flax,  or  cotton,  and  a  few  orchards  gleam  here 
and  there.  These  last  are  irrigated  by  means  of  tcharks, 
antediluvian  water-wheels  which,  as  the  water  recedes, 
are  left  suspended  from  the  thirsty  banks,  like  the 
skeletons  of  some  strange  aquatic  birds,  bleaching  in 
the  sun.  A  flock  of  famished  sheep  is  seen  at  rare 
intervals  grazing  sorrowfully  in  a  parched  meadow,  and 
a  few  goats  are  perchance  browsing  on  the  dusty  bushes 


ALONG  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  VARDAR    7 

among  the  hills  ;  some  head  of  cattle  ruminate  under 
the  scant  shade  of  a  tree,  while  a  forlorn  mule  or 
donkey  may  be  seen  roaming  in  solitary  misery  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  a  tumble-down  cottage.  These  are 
the  only  signs  of  life  for  mile  after  mile. 

But  no  !  If  you  look  out  towards  the  narrow  white 
bridle-path  which  stretches  at  the  foot  of  yonder  cliffs 
across  the  river,  you  will  see  a  shabbily-dressed  peasant 
riding  sideways  on  a  decrepit  donkey,  while  his  wife 
trudges  wearily  behind  barefooted,  or  rather  wearing 
her  shoes  on  her  hands.  "How  shocking!"  will  per- 
haps exclaim  the  chivalrous  tourist  from  the  West. 
But,  if  he  has  an  opportunity  of  questioning  the  lady, 
he  will  find  that  she  at  any  rate  sees  nothing  shocking 
in  her  condition.  If  she  vouchsafes  any  answer  at  all, 
she  will  tell  him  that  it  is  only  in  accordance  with  the 
eternal  fitness  of  things  that  she  should  walk  while 
her  lord  and  master  is  riding.  As  for  her  bare  feet 
and  eccentrically-gloved  hands,  she  is  pretty  certain  to 
explain — as  one  of  them  actually  explained  to  the 
writer  :  "  Feet  don't  wear  off,  sir  :  shoes  do  !  "  What 
a  promising  field  to  the  apostle  of  feminine  emancipa- 
tion does  Macedonia  offer  ! 

There  are  only  two  towns  of  real  importance  on  the 
line.  The  first  is  particularly  interesting  to  the  tra- 
veller, as  it  is  the  one  place  between  Servia  and  the 
^gean  Sea  where  he  can  break  his  fast,  without  being 
at  the  same  time  obliged  to  break  all  the  rules  of 
decency.  Here — provided  he  has  duly  notified  his 
desire  before  crossing  the  frontier — he  will  find  a 
luncheon  waiting  for  him,  ay,  and  a  luncheon-table, 
too,  supplied  with  all  modern  luxuries  in  the  way  of 
plates,  forks,  and  spoons.  This  is  a  city  variously 
called  Uskub  by  the  Turks,  Skupi  by  the  Slavs,  and 


8  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

Skopia  by  the  Greeks.  The  latter  name  means  a  look- 
out place,  or  a  mountain-peak,  and  most  aptly  describes 
the  position  of  the  town,  perched  as  it  is  upon  a  lofty 
eminence  commanding  a  wide  view  of  the  surrounding 
plain. 

Uskub,  economically  as  well  as  strategically,  is  the 
key  to  the  vilayet  of  Kossovo,  and,  so  far  as  the  racial 
characteristics  of  its  inhabitants  are  concerned,  it  pre- 
sents in  miniature  a  complete  picture  of  the  whole 
province.  The  population  of  the  town  consists  mainly 
of  Servians,  Albanians,  and  Bulgarians,  with  a  small 
but  influential  Greek  minority,  representing  the 
commercial  and  industrial,  as  opposed  to  the  agri- 
cultural interests.  The  country  around  is  for  the 
most  part  tilled  by  Slavs,  and  owned  by  so-called 
"  Turks." 

The  mixed  character  of  the  population  of  the 
district  is  a  cause  of  ceaseless  strife.  The  struggle  is 
of  a  twofold  nature.  In  the  western  parts  the  Al- 
banians harass  the  Servians,  while  in  the  eastern  the 
Servians  live  on  terms  of  mutual  throat-cutting  with 
the  Bulgarians.  This,  however,  does  not  prevent  these 
two  varieties  of  the  genus  Slav  from  occasionally  com- 
bining against  the  Mohammedans,  who  in  many  cases 
are  themselves  Slavs,  compelled  to  perform  the  rite  of 
mutilation  in  days  gone  by,  in  order  to  escape  a  worse 
fate.  Community  of  race  and  language,  instead  of 
obliterating,  rather  accentuates  the  difference  in  caste 
and  creed,  and  begets  a  truly  brotherly  hatred.  This 
gives  rise  to  a  lively,  yet  for  Turkey  by  no  means 
abnormal,  state  of  affairs,  as  it  leads  to  nothing  more 
serious  than  a  number  of  weekly  murders.  It  is  only 
when  the  ill-feeling  culminates  in  a  regular  drawn 
battle,  or  a  massacre  on  a   more  or   less  sensational 


ALONG  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  VARDAR    9 

scale,  that  the  Turkish  authorities  take  official  notice 
of  it,  and  then  the  usual  process  ensues  :  the  military- 
intervene,  and  complete  the  havoc  begun  by  the  people. 
But  as  a  general  rule  the  Porte  is  only  too  glad  to 
foment  the  rancour  between  the  various  elements 
among  its  subjects,  and  to  allow  them  to  tear  each 
other  in  pieces  to  their  hearts'  content,  so  long  as  they 
do  not  make  enough  noise  to  wake  the  slumbering 
statesmen  of  Western  Europe  and  provoke  an  inter- 
vention. 

To  the  south  of  the  above  lies  another  polyonymous 
city.  This  is  the  town  known  as  Veles  to  the  Slav, 
and  Velessa  to  the  Greek,  neither  of  which  appellations 
conveys  any  distinct  notion  to  the  ordinary  mind.  The 
Turkish  name  Kiuprulu,  or  Bridgetown,  though  some- 
what cacophonous,  has  the  merit  of  emphasising  one  of 
the  most  striking  features  of  the  place.  It  is  derived 
from  the  graceful,  if  rickety,  wooden  bridge  which 
spans  the  Vardar,  and  serves  as  a  hyphen  between  the 
two  parts  into  which  the  town  is  divided  by  that  river. 
The  houses,  picturesquely  scattered  over  the  gentle 
slopes,  come  down  to  the  water's  edge,  and  their  over- 
hanging upper  storeys  seem  to  lean  over  the  banks  in 
an  effort  to  butt  those  on  the  opposite  side.  There 
are  plenty  of  trees  in  the  town,  their  rich  green  foliage 
setting  off  the  white  walls  and  red-tile  roofs  of  the 
houses. 

A  few  weather-stained  minarets  rear  their  glittering 
bronze  crescents  here  and  there  in  rivalry  toward 
several  church  belfries,  and  the  relative  proportion 
between  the  crosses  and  the  crescents  shows  that  the 
Christian  element  preponderates,  probably  at  the  rate 
of  two  to  one.  The  majority  of  the  Christians  call 
themselves  Bulgarians — at  least  they  did  at  the  time 


lo  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

of  which  I  am  speaking ;  but  it  would  be  rash  to 
assert  that  they  still  do  so ;  for  nationality  in  the 
Balkans  is  a  variable  quantity,  largely  depending  on 
considerations  with  which  sentiment,  blood,  or  language 
have  little  or  nothing  to  do.  In  direct  antagonism  to 
the  Bulgarians  stands  a  numerically  small  Greek  colony, 
which  here,  as  at  Uskub,  includes  the  wealthiest  and 
most  highly  civilised  of  the  inhabitants. 

Towards  evening  we  passed  through  the  defile  of 
Demir  Kapu,  or  the  Iron  Gate.  The  sun  was  setting, 
and  the  stately  rocks,  rising  almost  perpendicular  on 
either  side,  cast  their  shadows  athwart  the  darkly- 
gleaming  waters  of  the  Vardar.  A  long  vista  of  lofty 
mountains  stretched  from  the  farther  end  of  the  narrow 
pass,  their  peaks  tipped  with  the  lingering  sunlight, 
while  their  lower  slopes  had  already  assumed  a  delicate 
purple  tint.  A  short  grey  twilight  followed,  and  then 
the  stars  began  to  twinkle  in  the  sky.  First  one  by 
one,  then  by  hundreds  and  by  thousands,  until  the 
dark-blue  canopy  seemed  to  throb  with  countless 
luminaries,  each  shining  with  a  brilliancy  distinct  from 
that  of  its  fellows ;  the  whole,  with  the  broad  belt  of 
the  Milky  Way  stretching  across  from  one  end  of  the 
horizon  to  the  other,  presenting  a  spectacle  seldom 
seen  in  northern  climes. 

If  the  lights  of  an  Eastern  summer  night  are 
dazzling  to  the  eye,  its  voices  are  deafening  to  the 
ear.  Nature  seems  to  hold  a  Ramazan.  Silent, 
dull  and  exhausted  during  the  day,  she  recovers  her 
strength  and  her  spirits  immediately  after  sundown. 
Myriads  of  frogs  mingled  their  garrulous  croaking 
with  the  shrill  chirpings  of  the  grasshopper,  and  the 
countryside  was  suddenly  stirred  to  a  liveliness  which 
contrasted   strangely  with  the    deathly    stillness  of  a 


ALONG  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  VARDAR    1 1 

few  minutes  before.  A  faint  reddish  glare,  rising 
above  the  sky-line  from  the  south,  indicated  that, 
though  slowly,  we  were  certainly  approaching  Salonica, 
and  soon  after  we  entered  the  station — only  one  hour 
and  a  half  behind  time. 


CHAPTER   II 

THESSALONICA  PAST  AND  PRESENT 

There  are  few  cities  in  the  Ottoman  Empire  more 
interesting  than  Salonica — interesting  alike  to  the 
student  and  to  the  strategist,  to  the  busy  trader  and 
to  the  idle  tourist.  Its  excellent  harbour  has  always 
rendered  it  a  commercial  centre  of  great  importance 
and  activity  in  the  Levant,  while  its  geographical 
position  has  often  led  to  discussions  as  to  whether 
it  could  not  be  made  into  a  convenient  calling-place 
between  England  and  India. 

These  natural  advantages  have  exposed  Salonica 
to  the  rapacity  of  all  the  races  which  have  at  various 
times  aspired  to  the  possession  of  Macedonia.  Founded 
by  one  of  Alexander's  immediate  successors,  it  passed 
by  turns  under  the  rule  of  the  Romans  and  of  the 
Byzantines :  it  successfully  sustained  several  sieges  at 
the  hands  of  the  Slavs,  was  conquered  by  the  Franks, 
recovered  by  the  Greeks,  and  it  finally  succumbed  to 
the  Turks. 

The  history  of  the  town  and  its  vicissitudes  can 
still  be  plainly  read  in  the  monuments  bequeathed 
by  each  succeeding  age.  Every  conqueror  in  turn 
has  left  behind  him  his  autograph  in  characters  of 
marble  or  stone.  A  huge  circular  building,  now  a 
Mohammedan  mosque,  dates  from  pre-Christian  times. 
Originally  erected  for  the  cult  of  pagan  deities,  it  was 
subsequently  used  as  a  church,  dedicated  to  St.  George, 


THESSALONICA  PAST  AND  PRESENT    13 

and,  after  the  Ottoman  conquest,  was  converted  into 
a  place  of  worship  of  Allah.  Until  a  short  time  ago 
a  richly-carved  stone  in  the  enclosure  of  the  temple 
was  pointed  out  to  the  traveller  as  "  St.  Paul's  Pulpit," 
and  popular  tradition  maintained  that  it  was  from  the 
steps  of  this  stone  that  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles 
had  preached  the  gospel  to  the  Thessalonians.  The 
"pulpit"  has  since  gone  to  grace  the  rooms  of  a 
Western  museum. 

A  triumphal,  though  sadly  mutilated  and  begrimed 
archj  at  the  east  end  of  the  main  street,  is  a  relic  of 
Roman  civilisation,  although  archaeologists  cannot  agree 
as  to  the  particular  emperor  in  whose  honour  it  was 
raised.  This  is,  however,  a  purely  theoretical  question, 
and  does  not  in  the  least  diminish  the  usefulness 
of  the  imperial  monument,  which  at  present  affords 
shelter  to  a  number  of  itinerant  cooks  and  cobblers. 
A  lane  off  this  main  thoroughfare  leads  into  an  open 
space,  now  surrounded  by  the  paltry  dwellings  of  the 
poor,  but  once  the  brilliant  theatre  of  chariot-races, 
which  drew  crowds  of  sporting  provincials  to  an  ex- 
citing scene.  This  place,  still  called  the  Hippodrome, 
also  witnessed  one  of  those  acts  of  barbarism  which 
seemed  to  foreshadow  the  future  fate  of  these  lands. 
It  was  here  that  many  thousands  of  Thessalonians, 
assembled  in  an  unsuspectingly  festive  mood,  were 
ruthlessly  massacred  by  the  legionaries  of  the  Christian 
emperor  Theodosius,  in  the  year  of  grace  390. 

Traces  of  the  Frank  occupation  are  to  be  found  in 
the  walls  and  fortifications  which  still  gird  the  town 
on  three  sides.  As  for  the  rule  of  the  Turk,  it  requires 
no  memorial  yet.  Nor  is  it  easy  to  fix  on  anything 
likely  to  perpetuate  its  memory,  when  it  has  become 
a  thing  of  the  past.     The  Turks,  although  they  have 


14  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

borrowed  much  and  destroyed  more,  have  built  nothing 
— not  even  a  jail.  Nearly  all  the  mosques,  of  which 
there  is  a  great  number,  were  Christian  churches  once, 
and  to  this  day  bear  the  names  of  their  old  patron 
saints.  The  "Seven  Towers"  and  the  "White  or 
Bloody  Tower,"  the  two  principal  prisons  of  the  pro- 
vince, likewise  were  Byzantine  fortresses.  The  public 
edifices  due  to  Turkish  initiative  can  be  counted  on 
the  fingers  of  one  hand  —  thumb  not  included:  a 
Konak,  or  government  house ;  a  barrack,  a  military 
hospital,  and  a  fountain  exhaust  the  list  of  Ottoman 
contributions  to  the  architecture  of  the  city.  All  these 
buildings  are  quite  modern,  and  have  nothing  char- 
acteristically Turkish  about  them  save  a  look  of  neglect 
and  premature  decay. 

Of  the  Byzantine  churches  of  Salonica,  which  have 
been  appropriated  by  the  Turks,  there  are  elaborate 
descriptions  in  the  works  of  numerous  savants,  Eng- 
lish and  foreign,  who  have  at  different  times  visited 
the  town.  The  present  writer's  object  will  be  to 
confine  himself  to  things  not  usually  mentioned 
by  savants.  The  mosque  of  St.  Demetrius,  the  old 
patron  saint  of  Salonica,  is  chiefly  interesting  to  the 
unlearned  as  presenting  a  curious  instance  of  com- 
promise between  the  Cross  and  the  Crescent. 

A  dark  corridor  leads  from  the  body  of  the  temple 
into  a  damp,  earth-smelling  dungeon,  wherein  the 
saint  lies  buried.  A  small  oil-lamp  hanging  from  the 
vault  throws  a  dismal,  flickering  light  upon  a  tomb- 
stone, which  is  thickly  coated  with  the  drippings  of 
numberless  tapers  stuck  upon  it  by  devout  hands  in 
the  course  of  many  centuries.  The  same  lamp  illu- 
minates a  small  picture  of  the  saint  which  reposes 
against  an  empty  wine-bottle.     The  Imam  who  con- 


THESSALONICA  PAST  AND  PRESENT  15 

ducts  the  stranger  into  this  mournful  sanctuary  ex- 
plains that  the  lamp  is  always  burning,  and  that,  if 
by  any  chance  it  is  allowed  to  go  out,  its  extinction 
is  followed  by  dire  consequences  to  him. 

"The  blessed  saint,"  says  the  Imam,  with  an 
immovableness  of  countenance  which  shows  how 
often  he  must  have  told  the  story,  "is  apt  to  resent 
such  neglect  bitterly.  Oh,  how  many  are  the  times 
he  has  wreaked  his  wrath  on  my  predecessors  and 
myself  in  our  sleep  !  " 

The  Christians  of  the  lower  class  firmly  believe  in 
the  Imam's  veracity ;  for  does  not  the  legend  flatter 
their  religious  amour  - p7'02)re  f  Does  it  not  prove 
their  beloved  patron's  power?  Above  all,  does  not 
old  St.  Demetrius,  in  castigating  the  infidels,  avenge 
to  a  certain  extent  the  wrongs  of  Christendom  on  the 
bodies  of  Islam  ?  In  return  for  this  sentimental  grati- 
fication they  readily  and  liberally,  though  rather  illogi- 
cally,  contribute  towards  the  keeping  of  the  lamp 
alight. 

On  the  saint's  day  (October  26  o.s.)  many  pilgrims 
repair  to  the  tomb,  light  a  candle,  and  pray  beside  it, 
and  departing  leave  behind  them  donations  in  oil  or 
money.  The  grateful  Imam  allows  them  to  carry  away 
from  the  shrine  a  handful  of  earth,  which  is  supposed 
to  be  endowed  with  miraculous  virtues  for  the  cure  of 
diseases. 

A  splendid  view  of  the  town  and  harbour  can  be 
gained  from  the  summit  of  the  hill  on  which  stands 
the  citadel,  now  tenanted  by  a  colony  of  gipsies.  A 
Greek  church  commonly  called  Tchaoush  Monastir,  or 
the  "  Captain's  Convent,"  occupies  a  prominent  position  ,/ 
on  the  hill. 

Through  the    enclosure   of  this    church   pass   the 


1 6  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

channels  which  supply  the  town  with  water  from 
Mount  Khortatch.  The  story  runs  that,  when  the 
Turks  laid  siege  to  Salonica,  they  experienced  great 
diflBculty  in  reducing  the  city,  and  that  they  finally 
succeeded  through  the  treachery  of  the  inmates  of  the 
monastery,  who  helped  the  enemy  to  cut  off  the  water 
supply.  I  do  not  know  that  there  is  any  foundation 
for  this  old  tradition.  Perhaps  it  is  only  an  instance  of 
the  ill-feeling  entertained  by  the  people  against  monks 
and  monastic  institutions  generally.  Once  in  the 
course  of  a  conversation  about  the  monks  of  Mount 
Athos,  a  peasant  astonished  me  by  describing  them, 
in  a  phrase  more  pithy  than  polite,  as  "men  mostly 
fit  for  the  rope  and  the  stake " — a  pretty  vigorous 
denunciation  of  sainthood  I  thought  it  at  the  time, 
but  I  have  since  found  that  the  fellow  was  by  no 
means  singular  in  his  opinion. 

In  the  same  courtyard  stands  the  turbaned  tomb- 
stone under  which  reposes  the  Tchaoush,  from  whom 
the  monastery  derives  its  name.  Who  this  hero  was, 
or  what  he  did  to  earn  his  notoriety,  are  questions  to 
which  the  long-bearded  Greek  papas,  now  the  sole 
occupant  of  the  convent,  could  give  no  answer.  Nor 
was  I  particularly  anxious  to  get  one.  Leaving  my 
host  to  go  to  his  vespers,  I  walked  to  the  narrow 
rock-ledge  outside  the  gate  and  looked  idly  round. 

The  city  spread  from  under  my  feet.  Red  and 
brown  roofs,  bronze-plated  cupolas,  and  snow-white 
minarets  lay  sprinkled  in  delightful  confusion  over  the 
slope,  with  bright  green  patches  of  foliage  interspersed. 
The  harbour  sparkled  beyond  like  a  vast  mirror  re- 
flecting the  rays  of  the  afternoon  sun.  Kara-burnu,  a 
long  rocky  promontory,  with  sides  seamed  and  scarred 
by  the  streams  of  immemorial  winters,  shot  out  on  the 


THESSALONICA  PAST  AND  PRESENT  17 

left,  while  Mount  Olympus  stretched  its  broad  and 
majestic  range  on  the  right.  As  the  sun  declined 
toward  the  west,  the  outlines  of  the  noble  mountain 
grew  clearer  and  clearer  against  the  sky,  and  at  last  it 
stood  out ;  a  great  dark  giant  with  a  diadem  of  sunlit 
snow  glittering  round  his  brows. 

Yet  a  few  short  minutes  and  the  whole  scene  is 
changed.  The  crimson  glow  of  the  sky  has  faded  into 
a  pale  pink,  which  in  its  turn  has  yielded  to  grey,  and 
soon  mountain,  sea,  and  sky  are  merged  in  one  mass 
of  gloom.  The  aged  Turkish  gun-boats  in  the  harbour, 
and  other  less  unhealthy-looking  steam  and  sailing 
vessels,  have  hung  out  their  lights,  and  the  black 
waters  beneath  are  streaked  with  quivering  bars  of 
gold. 

The  sight  was  calculated  to  send  one  into  a  dream 
of  everlasting  calm  and  repose.  But  there  was  no  time 
for  dreams  or  repose.  The  crooked,  ill-lighted,  and 
ill-paved  lanes,  which  lead  from  the  citadel  to  the 
lower  regions,  are  no  pleasant  or  safe  promenade  after 
dark,  and  prudence  dictates  a  hasty  retreat,  ere  common, 
peaceful  citizens  have  retired  to  their  beds,  and  the 
gentry,  delicately  described  by  the  old  poet  as  "  day- 
sleepers  "  have  quitted  theirs. 


CHAPTER    III 
A   CITY  OF   MANY  TONGUES 

There  are  several  thoroughfares  leading  from  the  quay 
into  the  heart  of  the  town.  But  the  most  interesting 
of  all  is  the  one  which  runs  through  the  bazaar,  crosses 
the  main  street  at  right  angles — or  as  near  an  approach 
to  right  angles  as  is  consistent  with  Oriental  love  for 
the  picturesque — and  continues  with  a  slight  elevation 
up  to  the  Konah.  The  first  part  of  this  street  is  roofed 
in,  an  arrangement  no  doubt  highly  agreeable  to  the 
Hebrew  tradesmen  whose  shops  and  booths  flank  the 
sides.  It  creates  an  artificial  dusk  which,  by  conceal- 
ing imperfections  and  toning  down  all  colours  to  dim 
uniformity,  conduces  to  optical  delusion,  and  is  other- 
wise beneficial  to  commerce. 

As  I  walked  between  the  lines  of  the  gaily-be- 
decked shops,  my  ears  were  assaulted  by  enticing 
invitations  to  pause  and  inspect  their  contents.  But 
I  bravely  resisted  the  temptation,  and  finally  emerged 
into  the  sunshine  of  the  main  street.  There  I  saw  a 
sorry  cur  of  uncertain  pedigree  brought  to  an  untimely 
end  by  the  wheels  of  the  tram,  was  narrowly  missed  by 
a  prodigious  box,  which  tottered  as  if  by  magic  across 
the  road,  and  I  gained  the  other  side.  From  this  point 
of  vantage  I  looked  behind  to  ascertain  the  mechanical 
laws,  if  any,  which  governed  the  motions  of  the  mys- 
terious box,  and  I  discovered  them  in  a  pair  of  bare 
brawny  legs  belonging  to  a  ludicrously  small  Israelite, 

i8 


A  CITY  OF  MANY  TONGUES  19 

half- concealed  beneath  the  load.  The  image  of  little 
David  defying  and  defeating  the  Philistine  giant  rose 
in  my  mind,  and  then  I  understood  something  of  the 
secret  of  the  success  which  still  waits  on  the  diminu- 
tive sons  of  Israel. 

In  Salonica  there  are  vast  numbers  of  them.  Offi- 
cial statistics  estimate  their  strength  at  seventy  thou- 
sand. But  official  statistics  in  Turkey,  excellent  as 
works  of  the  imagination,  make  no  pretence  to  realistic 
accuracy  in  matters  of  fact.  A  government  employe 
once  naively  explained  to  me  that  as  that  curious 
exhibition  of  Oriental  humour,  popularly  known  by 
the  name  of  census,  is  held  with  a  view  to  taxation, 
it  cannot  reasonably  be  expected  that  the  people 
should  be  very  anxious  to  give  in  their  names  ! 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  he  said,  with  the  aloofness  of  a 
philosophical  historian  who  speaks  two  thousand  years 
after  the  events  narrated,  "it  is  the  custom  of  the 
people,  when  the  man  with  the  register  goes  round,  to 
telegraph  his  arrival  from  house  to  house  by  means  of 
signals,  such  as  broomsticks,  bedsheets  and  the  like, 
and  so  the  rayahs  have  plenty  of  time  to  send  their 
children,  especially  the  males,  out  of  the  way." 

He  went  on  to  describe  an  elaborate  game  of  hide 
and  seek  solemnly  played  between  the  Revenue  officers 
and  the  people,  adding  that,  so  far  as  the  Salonica 
Jews  are  concerned,  it  would  perhaps  be  nearer  the 
truth  to  set  them  down  as  ninety  thousand.  "But, 
Effendim,"  he  concluded,  with  a  smile  of  amusement 
at  my  pedantic  weakness  for  arithmetic,  "what  does 
it  really  signify,  a  few  thousand  more  or  less  ?  it  will 
be  all  one  a  few  years  hence.  Allah  is  the  only  im- 
mortal One." 

This  enormous  proportion  of  the  chosen  people,  in 


20  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

a  town  whose  entire  population  does  not  exceed 
150,000,  is  due  to  various  causes.  We  know  from 
the  New  Testament  that  a  considerable  Hebrew 
colony  existed  in  Thessalonica  at  the  beginning  of 
the  Christian  era,  as  St.  Paul  found  to  his  cost. 
Benjamin  of  Tudela  also,  that  quaint  old  traveller  of 
the  twelfth  century,  mentions  a  Jewish  community  in 
this  place.  But  few,  if  any,  of  the  present  members 
of  the  colony  can  claim  descent  from  those  ancient 
settlers.  The  majority  of  them  are  the  descendants  of 
the  Jews  who  were  expelled  from  Spain  by  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella,  and  they  still  speak  a  kind  of  Spanish, 
much  damaged  by  wear  and  tear,  and  picturesquely 
patched  up  with  Turkish  and  other  foreign  elements. 
These  Jews  belong  to  the  Sephardim  sect. 

The  stream  of  emigrants  was  in  more  modern  times 
further  swelled  by  the  influx  of  refugees,  of  the  Asch- 
kenazim  variety,  from  Russia,  Roumania,  and  else- 
where, for  Turkey  is  a  haven  of  refuge  open  to  the 
persecuted  of  every  colour  and  clime.  So  long  as  they 
suffer  the  tax-collector's  shears  to  play  freely  upon  their 
fleece,  they  are  permitted  to  live  and  grow  fat.  How 
well  this  regime  agrees  with  the  Hebrew  constitution 
is  proved  by  the  fact  that  the  Salonica  Jews  have 
grown,  and  are  daily,  growing,  in  number  and  riches, 
to  the  disgust  and  dismay  of  their  hereditary  rivals,  the 
Greeks. 

If  the  Jews  are  taken  as  the  arbiters  of  the  com- 
merce of  Salonica,  the  Greeks  may  fairly  claim  to 
stand  as  the  chief  representatives  of  its  intellectual 
culture.  In  multitude  and  in  wealth  they  are  im- 
measurably inferior  to  the  Jews,  but  what  they  lack 
in  those  respects  is  amply  compensated  by  their  literary 
tastes  and  love   of  progress.      They  maintain  several 


A  CITY  OF  MANY  TONGUES  21 

excellent  establishments  for  the  education  of  the 
young,  the  yearly  attendance  amounting  to  2000 
pupils  of  both  sexes,  apart  from  a  number  of  boys 
and  girls  who  frequent  French  and  Italian  schools  for 
the  acquisition  of  foreign  languages.  There  are  also 
many  charitable  institutions,  which,  like  the  schools, 
owe  their  existence  to  the  munificence  of  native 
Greeks,  who  made  their  fortunes  abroad,  and,  dying, 
bequeathed  them  to  their  birthplace. 

Besides  the  Jews  and  the  Greeks,  Salonica  contains 
a  large  Turkish  population,  and  a  very  small  number 
of  Servians,  Roumanians,  and  Bulgarians,  as  well  as  a 
Frank  colony,  in  which  the  ubiquitous  Teuton  has 
recently  become  very  conspicuous. 

The  Bulgarians  run  some  schools  in  opposition  to 
those  of  the  Greeks  ;  but  although,  in  addition  to  in- 
struction, they  offer  the  potent  allurements  of  free 
board  and  lodging,  they  cannot  boast  of  any  marked 
success.  Their  establishments,  well  advertised  as  they 
are,  want  the  prestige  of  antiquity  and  the  high  stan- 
dard of  efficiency  which  their  Hellenic  rivals  have 
attained,  and  their  object  seems  to  be  rather  political 
than  purely  educational.  The  Eoumanians  and  the 
Servians  are  also  attempting  to  promote  their  political 
interests  by  means  of  education,  but  the  results  have 
hitherto  been  even  less  encouraging  than  those 
obtained  by  the  Bulgarians. 

On  the  whole,  Salonica  may  be  said  still  to  be  what 
it  has  been  for  more  than  twenty  centuries — a  centre 
of  Hellenic  influence  and  civilisation.  For,  though 
the  Turks  equal  the  Greeks  in  number  and  the  Jews 
surpass  them,  neither  of  those  two  races  can  be 
described  as  autochthonous.  They  both  are  mere 
residents — birds  of  passage,  though  likewise  birds  of 


2  2  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

prey — the  latter  as  money  -  makers,  the  former  as 
"  money-eaters."  As  soon  as  Salonica  passes  under  a 
new  rule,  the  Turks  will  pack  their  goods  and  chattels 
and  decamp.  The  Jews,  unless  driven  away,  will 
remain  and  continue  in  the  peaceful  pursuit  of  lucre, 
which  is  the  alpha  and  the  omega  of  their  worldly 
ambition.  The  efforts  of  the  Slavs  and  of  the  Rouma- 
nians to  create  a  population  to  order  are  too  artificial 
to  deserve  serious  consideration. 

In  addition  to  these  nationalities,  Salonica  harbours 
a  colony  of  Mohammedans  of  Hebrew  origin,  known 
as  Dunmehs,  or  "  Converts."  This  hybrid  sect  forms 
a  link  between  the  Turk  and  the  Jew.  They  constitute 
a  community  by  themselves.  They  neither  give  their 
daughters  in  marriage  to  the  other  Mohammedans,  nor, 
except  on  very  rare  occasions,  do  they  take  wives  from 
them,  but  they  habitually  intermarry  among  them- 
selves. Both  Jews  and  Turks  despise  the  Dunmehs 
as  renegades,  and  dread  them  as  rivals ;  for  the 
Dunmehs,  in  embracing  the  faith  of  the  Ishmaelites, 
renounced  nothing  of  the  sharpness  and  aptitude  for 
business  which  characterise  the  Israelite.  On  the 
contrary,  they  have  improved  those  qualities  by  an 
infusion  of  the  self-respect  which  distinguishes  the 
Mohammedan. 

Among  the  Turks  there  is  a  suspicion  that  the 
Dunmehs  are  only  Mohammedans  in  appearance,  but 
infidels  at  heart.  It  is  said  that  they  still  observe 
Hebrew  rites  and  festivals  in  secret,  and  they  are 
accused  of  some  of  the  most  odious  practices  attributed 
in  old  times  by  the  pagans  to  the  early  Christians,  and 
by  outsiders  of  all  ages  to  new  and  unpopular  sects. 
These  charges  are  naturally  difficult  to  substantiate, 
and  in  all  probability  rest  on  nothing  more  solid  than 


A  CITY  OF  MANY  TONGUES  23 

prejudiced  mythology;  but,  at  all  events,  they  indicate 
the  feelings  entertained  towards  the  "  Converts "  by 
their  neighbours. 

The  sect  was  founded  by  a  certain  Sabetay  Sevi, 
who  some  centuries  ago  appeared  in  Adrianople  as 
a  prophet,  pretending  to  work  miracles.  His  preten- 
sions, naturally  enough,  created  a  great  deal  of  sensa- 
tion. Some  of  his  co-religionists  believed  in  the  new 
prophet,  while  others  denounced  him  as  an  impostor. 
The  agitation  finally  attained  such  proportions  that  the 
Turkish  authorities  were  obliged  to  take  cognizance  of 
it.  Sabetay  Sevi  was  summoned  to  Stamboul  and,  so 
the  story  runs,  was  cross-examined  by  no  less  a  person 
than  the  Sultan  himself.  In  the  Padishah's  awful 
presence  the  prophet's  courage  failed  him,  and  he 
hastened  to  save  himself  by  declaring  that  his  mission 
really  was  to  convert  the  Jews  to  Islam.  He  was 
taken  at  his  word,  and  was  compelled  to  set  the  good 
example  by  turning  Mohammedan  himself.  Three 
hundred  families  followed  his  lead,  but  Sabetay  Sevi's 
prophetic  instincts  warned  him  that  it  would  not  be 
wise  to  return  to  Adrianople.  Instead,  he  betook 
himself  to  Smyrna,  directing  his  followers  to  migrate 
to  Salonica  and  there  await  his  arrival.  They  are  still 
waiting.  It  is  said  that  the  descendants  of  those  con- 
verts are  to  this  day  in  the  habit  of  sending  a  man 
round  the  quay  every  night  with  a  lantern  in  order 
that  the  light  thereof  may  guide  this  new  Wandering 
Jew's  steps  to  the  shore. 

Meanwhile  the  flock,  on  being  deserted  by  its 
shepherd,  found  itself  a  prey  to  doctrinal  difficulties, 
which  gave  rise  to  three  minor  sects  led  by  three  of 
the  prophet's  most  distinguished  disciples,  each  of 
whom  felt  convinced,   and    succeeded  in   convincing 


24  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

others,  that  he,  and  he  alone,  held  the  Master's  true 
teaching.     The  division  still  endures. 

The  Jewish  gentleman  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for 
some  of  these  details  concerning  the  Dunmehs  assured 
me  that  Sabetay  Sevi  was  by  no  means  a  typical 
Hebrew.  In  his  anxiety  to  show  how  a  true  son  of 
Israel  would  have  conducted  himself  in  the  circum- 
stances which  led  to  Sabetay's  apostasy,  he  related  to 
me  the  following  story  : — 

The  History  of  the  Three  Precious  Stones 

Years  ago  there  lived  in  Stamboul  one  of  our 
people  who,  by  the  blessing  of  Heaven  and  his  own 
industry,  had  succeeded  in  accumulating  a  large 
fortune.  Now,  you  know,  sir,  that  in  Turkey  the 
worst  thing,  next  to  being  a  pauper,  is  to  be  a 
millionaire.  So  this  co-religionist  of  mine  thought 
when  one  day  he  received  an  invitation  to  present 
himself  before  the  Sultan.  He  knew  full  well  what 
that  meant,  but  what  could  he  do  ?  His  Majesty,  after 
the  usual  prostrations,  addressed  him  as  follows  : — 

"  O  thou  son  of  a  dog,  canst  thou  tell  me  which 
of  the  three  religions  current  in  my  dominions  is  the 
true  one  ?  " 

The  Hebrew  stood,  or  rather  knelt,  in  silence  for  a 
long  while,  for  he  was  aware  that  whatever  answer  he 
might  make,  it  would  result  in  his  parting  with  his 
head :  had  he  said  "  the  Christian,"  the  Sultan  would 
have  taken  it  as  an  insult  and  ordered  his  execution  on 
the  spot ;  had  he  said  "  the  Hebrew,"  the  same  thing 
would  have  happened ;  had  he  said  "  the  Moham- 
medan," the  Sultan  would  have  given  him  the  option 
between  apostasy  and  the  grave,  and,  of  course,  being 
a  true   Hebrew,   he  would  have  preferred  the  latter. 


A  CITY  OF  MANY  TONGUES  25 

So  he  knelt  on,  musing  ;  but  at  last  Jehovah,  who 
deserts  not  those  who  rely  on  Him,  inspired  the  old 
man  with  this  reply  : — 

"  0  mighty  Padishah,  thy  question,  in  order  to  be 
rightly  answered,  requires  a  measure  of  wisdom  which 
is  not  vouchsafed  to  thy  worthless  slave,  or  at  least 
time  for  thought." 

"  I  give  thee  twenty-four  hours,"  answered  his 
Majesty. 

At  the  expiration  of  that  period  the  Hebrew  was 
once  more  summoned  before  the  Sultan,  and  then  he 
spoke  as  follows  : — 

"  O  mighty  Padishah,  I  have  spent  the  time  which 
thou,  in  thy  supernatural  graciousness,  deignedst  to 
grant  thy  humble  servant,  in  prayer  and  meditation, 
and  this  is  the  result : — 

"  Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  great  and  power- 
ful king  who  had  three  sons.  He  also  possessed  a 
diamond  of  unheard-of  size  and  value.  Wishing  to 
spur  his  boys  to  progress,  he  one  day  called  them  to 
him  and  said  : — 

"  *  Whichever  of  you  by  the  end  of  the  year  sur- 
passes the  others  in  book-lore  and  skill  in  the  art  of 
war,  to  him  will  I  give  this  priceless  stone.' 

"  At  the  end  of  the  year  he  examined  the  boys 
before  the  learned  men  and  the  great  warriors  of  his 
kingdom,  and  found  that  none  of  them  excelled  the 
others,  but  they  all  were  equally  good.  He,  there- 
fore, could  not  bestow  the  diamond  on  one  of  the 
three  without  being  unjust  to  the  others.  In  this 
perplexity  he  applied  for  advice  to  his  Grand  Vizier, 
and  the  Grand  Vizier  being  an  exceedingly  wise  man, 
counselled  his  master  to  have  two  counterfeit  stones 
made  so  as  to  look  in  every  point  like  the  genuine 


26  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

diamond.  The  Court  jeweller  undertook  the  task, 
and  in  a  few  days  he  produced  three  stones  as  like 
each  other  as  are  three  eggs  laid  by  the  same  hen. 

"  The  king  was  highly  pleased,  and,  calling  his  three 
sons  to  him,  he  presented  them  with  a  stone  apiece. 

*'  Now,  O  mighty  Padishah,  canst  thou  tell  me 
which  of  those  three  boys  received  the  true  diamond, 
and  which  of  them  got  the  counterfeit  ones  ?  " 

The  Sultan  was  much  impressed  by  the  force  of 
the  argument,  and  dashing  his  tchibook  to  the  floor, 
exclaimed  : — 

"  Mashallali !  thou  speakest  well,  O  Jew  !  " 

Then  he  dismissed  the  old  man  with  presents  and 
molested  him  no  more. 

Each  of  the  races  enumerated  above  occupies  a 
mahallah,  or  quarter,  by  itself,  and,  although  they  all 
live  within  the  walls  of  the  same  town,  they  seem  to 
know  as  much  about  one  another  as  if  they  dwelt  on 
different  planets.  Each  nationality  dresses,  speaks, 
cheats,  and  worships  after  a  fashion  of  its  own,  and 
quite  distinct  from  that  of  its  neighbours,  and  each  of 
them  cherishes  a  traditional  antipathy  to  all  the  others. 
A  parallel  difference  can  be  traced  in  their  favourite 
pursuits.  The  Jews  are  mostly  bankers,  money- 
changers, peddlers,  costermongers,  tinkers,  porters,  and 
pickpockets.  The  Greeks  are  merchants,  artisans,  cab- 
men, cafe-keepers,  scholars,  and  burglars.  Hitherto 
there  has  been  only  one  instance  of  a  Hellene  forget- 
ting himself  so  far  as  to  sell  cabbages  and  tomatoes  in 
the  street,  and  he  was  a  Protestant  pervert.  But,  so 
far  as  human  ken  goes,  there  has  been  no  example  of 
a  Hebrew  attempting  to  handle  a  pair  of  horses  or  to 
break  into  a  house. 


A  CITY  OF  MANY  TONGUES  27 

Some  of  the  Dunmehs  also  are  given  to  mercantile 
pursuits,  and  these  are  known  as  Bezestenlis,  or  shop- 
keepers. But  as  for  the  genuine  Turks,  if  one  excepts 
the  great  landowners  who  reside  in  the  town,  the  gar- 
rison officers,  the  policemen,  and  the  government 
functionaries — in  a  word,  the  idle  classes — it  is  not 
easy  to  account  for  the  existence  of  the  rest.  Some  of 
the  humbler  sort,  it  is  true,  keep  shops  and  cafes,  or 
serve  as  coachmen  and  carriers  ;  but  these  form  only  an 
insignificant  minority,  when  compared  with  their  con- 
freres of  the  other  nationalities. 

Beggars  abound,  and  no  creed  or  race  can  be  said 
to  enjoy  a  monopoly  of  them.  So  do  dogs  of  all  breeds, 
cross  breeds  and  no  breeds  ;  and  these  nuisances,  taken 
together,  render  a  walk  through  the  streets  of  Salonica 
an  enterprise  requiring  some  sang  froid  and  a  good 
stick. 

Further,  the  three  nationalities  can  be  dijBferenti- 
ated  by  their  intellectual  characteristics.  In  point  of 
versatility  the  followers  of  Moses  undoubtedly  carry 
away  the  palm,  leaving  both  the  others  far  behind. 
The  Jew  is  trilingual.  He  is  equally  at  home  in 
Spanish,  Greek,  and  Turkish,  and  speaks  each  of  these 
idioms  indiff'erently  badly.  The  Greek  can  express  his 
ideas  in  two  languages,  Greek  and  Turkish.  The 
Turk  shares  with  the  gods  and  the  English  the  privi- 
lege of  having  only  one  tongue. 

The  order  of  classification  would  have  to  be  re- 
versed, if  the  three  elements  were  subjected  to  an  exa- 
mination of  a  diff'erent  kind.  Measured  by  a  moral,  or 
rather  manly,  standard,  the  first  would  be  last  and  the 
last  first.  The  adage  which  associates  physical  purity 
with  moral  uprightness  finds  a  curious  illustration  in 
Salonica.       The    Mohammedans,    whatever    may    be 


2  8  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

thought  of  them  as  rulers,  are  generally  acknowledged 
to  be  extremely  honest  in  their  private  transactions, 
and — always  excepting  the  government  officials,  who 
have  an  immoral  code  of  their  own — scrupulously  care- 
ful in  the  handling  of  truth.  The  Turk  is  too  strong 
to  do  a  mean  thing,  too  unimaginative  to  invent  the 
thing  that  is  not.  His  vices,  great  as  they  are,  are  the 
vices  of  a  race  conscious  of  its  might,  and  proud  of  it. 
These  moral  qualities  are  typified  in  a  striking  man- 
ner by  the  appearance  of  the  quarters  inhabited  by 
Mohammedans.  The  streets  are  neatly  swept,  and  the 
private  dwellings,  in  point  of  cleanliness,  present  a 
wonderful  contrast  to  the  public  offices. 

On  passing  from  such  a  quarter  to  one  inhabited 
by  Christians,  one  notices  a  certain  deterioration  in 
those  respects,  accompanied  by  a  corresponding  inferi- 
ority in  the  moral  attributes  which  distinguish  the 
Mohammedan.  But  it  is  only  on  reaching  the  Jewish 
quarter  that  one  fully  realises  the  depths  of  physical 
and  other  filth  of  which  humanity  is  capable.  The 
streets  are  littered  with  all  sorts  of  rubbish  in  every 
stage  of  decomposition,  and  the  air  is  fraught  with  all 
sorts  of  unwholesome  odours.  Great  caution,  and  a 
certain  amount  of  acrobatic  skill,  are  necessary  in 
order  to  avoid  disagreeable  surprises  in  the  form  of 
slop-pails  or  rat-traps  emptied  from  lofty  windows,  and 
other  accidents  of  an  equally  unexpected  and  unpleas- 
ant character.  A  look  into  the  nearest  Jewish  shop 
will  supply  the  inquisitive  traveller  with  the  moral 
of  v,'hich  the  squalor  of  the  streets  and  the  foulness  of 
the  atmosphere  are  the  concrete  emblems. 

After  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  town  goes 
to  bed,  or,  to  be  more  precise,  turns  in.  The  shops 
have  closed  long  ago,  and  only  the  cafds  on  the  quay 


A  CITY  OF  MANY  TONGUES  29 

remain  open,  waiting  for  some  few  belated  loafers  to 
retire.  The  streets  are  dark  and  deserted,  and  the 
silence  of  the  night  is  only  broken  by  the  monotonous 
sound  of  the  watchman's  club  striking  the  hours  on 
the  cobbles  of  the  pavement,  and  now  and  again  by 
the  furious  barking  of  some  troop  of  homeless  curs 
racing  in  the  moonlight.  About  midnight,  however, 
a  double  boom  of  cannon  is  heard  from  the  citadel, 
immediately  followed  by  the  rattle  of  revolvers,  and 
sometimes  by  peals  of  church-bells.  But,  unless  the 
noise  is  very  near  your  abode,  you  need  not  be  dis- 
turbed. The  tramp  of  feet  under  your  windows,  and 
the  cries  Yanguin  var !  will  infonn  you  that  it  is  only 
a  fire. 

These  nocturnal  alarms  are  as  regular  in  their 
occurrence  as  the  crowing  of  the  cocks.  They  average 
some  eight  or  nine  a  week,  and  the  good  Thessalonians 
are  so  accustomed  to  them,  that  on  the  rare  occasions 
when  their  slumbers  are  not  interrupted  by  such  an 
event,  one  hears  on  the  following  morning  at  break- 
fast the  remark  : — 

"  There  was  no  fire  last  night ! " 
To  which  is  invariably  returned  the  answer  : — 
"  No,  but  there  is  sure  to  be  one  to-night." 
The  flimsy  material  of  which  the  houses  are  built, 
and  the  small  space    into    which   they   are    crowded, 
added   to   the   narrowness    of  the    streets,    would   be 
sufficient  to  account  for  the  frequency  of  conflagra- 
tions, were  it  not  for  one  little  thing :  the  house  or 
the  shop  in  which  the  fire  originates  in    ninety-nine 
cases  out  of  a  hundred  happens  to  be  insured,  and  to 
belong  either  to  a  Jew  or  to  a  Christian.    This  circum- 
stance,  coupled   with   the   fact   that   the   property  of 
Mohammedans — who    do  not  approve   of  insurances, 


30  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

as  implying  an  impious  want  of  confidence  in  Allah  ^ — 
seldom  falls  a  prey  to  the  flames,  induces  the  thought- 
ful observer  to  shake  his  head. 

In  fact,  these  "  accidents  "  may  be  said  to  throw  a 
lurid  light  upon  Hebrew  and  local  Christian  morality ; 
and  so  seem  to  think  the  London  insurance  companies, 
which  since  the  great  fire  of  1891  have  abolished  their 
Salonica  agencies.  That  fire  destroyed  one-fourth  of 
the  town,  including  the  whole  Jewish  quarter  and  the 
old  Greek  cathedral,  and  reduced  to  ruins  the  mosque 
of  St.  Sophia,  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  Byzantine 
architecture.  But  rumour,  who  does  not  always  lie, 
whispers  that  on  that  occasion  Vulcan  came  in  obedi- 
ence to  an  official  summons  to  assist  in  clearing  the 
ground  for  the  execution  of  certain  plans  contemplated 
by  an  ambitious  and  impecunious  municipal  council. 

^  The  views  on  Providence  entertained  by  Turks  and  Jews  respec- 
tively, and  the  extent  to  which  belief  influences  the  conduct  of  each,  are 
well  illustrated  by  the  following  anecdote :  A  Turk  and  a  Jew  were  one 
day  in  a  boat.  Suddenly  the  weather  changed,  and  a  fierce  squall  arose. 
The  Jew  proposed  that  they  should  turn  back  at  once.  The  Turk  was 
for  going  on. 

"  Fear  not,  my  friend,  Allah  is  great,"  he  said. 

"  Allah  is  great,"  retorted  the  Jew,  "  but  our  boat  is  small." 


Thc  .MosQL'ii  OF  St.  Soi'hia. 

(After  the  great  fire  of  iSgi. , 


CHAPTER  IV 
AN    EASTERN    JUBILEE 

The  30th  of  August  dawned  with  an  overcast  sky. 
Black  clouds  gathered  all  through  the  morning,  and 
the  air  was  stiflingly  sultry.  About  noon,  however, 
the  long-brewing  storm  burst  with  a  violence  approach- 
ing to  a  tropical  hurricane.  The  thunder  rumbled  on 
high,  and  flashes  of  forked  lightning  rent  the  firma- 
ment for  hours.  Through  the  rifts  of  the  clouds  Mount 
Olympus  revealed  its  lowering  brows  at  moments,  only 
to  withdraw  them  again  behind  an  impenetrable  veil 
of  mist.  An  ancient  Hellene  would  have  said  that 
Zeus,  the  cloud-compeller,  sat  frowning  amidst  the 
invisible  heights  and  thence  hurled  his  bolts  broadcast 
upon  a  guilty  world.  Th^n  the  rain  came  down  in 
sheets,  turning  the  streets  into  angry  torrents,  and 
the  room  in  which  I  was  sitting  into  a  miniature 
archipelago. 

But  on  the  following  morning  there  was  not  a  trace 
of  the  cataclysm  left,  except  the  mud  in  the  streets  and 
a  distinct  fall  in  the  temperature.  The  waters  were 
baled  out  of  the  rooms,  and  the  sun  smiled  upon  us 
with  ironical  cheerfulness.  It  was  fortunate  that  the 
thunder-storm  broke  when  it  did.  Had  it  held  off  for 
another  twenty-four  hours  it  would  have  nipped  a  great 
fete  in  the  bud,  and  would  have  disappointed  the  public 
of  Salonica.  The  31st  of  August  was  the  eve  of  the 
twenty-fifth  anniversary  of  Sultan  Abdul  Hamid's  acces- 


3  2  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

sion  to  the  throne  of  the  Osmanlis,  and  the  town  was 
in  a  ferment  of  bustle  and  anticipation.  Arches  with 
inappropriately  eulogistic  inscriptions  were  erected, 
flags  floated  from  the  roofs  of  many  houses,  and  many 
windows  and  doorways  were  festooned  with  lamps  and 
ferns.  Everybody  was  spurred  to  a  demonstration  of 
much  unfelt  joy  by  the  example  of  his  neighbours  and, 
alas  !  by  the  fear  of  the  police. 

I  was  finishing  breakfast  when  the  blare  of  many 
trumpets,  accompanied  by  the  rolling  of  drums,  the 
clatter  of  hoofs,  and  the  rattle  of  wheels,  compelled 
me  to  look  out  of  the  window.  A  long  procession, 
headed  by  a  formidable  band  and  flanked  by  mounted 
troops,  was  slowly  defiling  through  the  street.  It  con- 
sisted of  no  less  than  fifty  vehicles  of  all  denominations 
and  ages,  closely  packed  with  solemn  little  Turks  be- 
tween five  and  nine  years  old.  They  were  all  swim- 
ming in  brand-new  Frank  suits,  obviously  meant  to  fit 
them  at  some  future  date.  Their  fezes  were  bedizened 
with  threads  of  gold  and  glaring  yellow  flowers,  and 
most  of  these  young  effendis  held  between  their  henna- 
tipped  fingers  cigarettes,  at  which  they  pufied  with 
precocious  satisfaction.  They  were  to  be  circumcised 
at  his  Imperial  Majesty's  expense — a  typically  Moham- 
medan form  of  a  largesse,  and  in  this  instance  intended 
to  commemorate  by  a  life-long  souvenir  the  fact  that  a 
Turkish  monarch  had  actually  reigned  for  twenty-five 
years  unmurdered.  No  wonder  that  the  elderly  babies 
gave  themselves  such  airs  of  importance. 

September  ist. — As  the  calf  stands  to  the  grown-up 
cow,  the  bud  to  the  full-blown  flower,  and  the  promise 
to  its  fulfilment,  even  so  stood  the  eve  to  the  great/ete 
itself.  The  day  began  with  a  salute  of  twenty-five 
cannon  shots  from  the  fortress  of  Top-haneh,  followed 


AN  EASTERN  JUBILEE  33 

by  thanksgiving  services  in  all  the  places  of  worship. 
As  on  the  previous  day,  so  now  Greeks,  Jews,  and 
Slavs  vied  with  each  other  in  their  hypocritical  display 
of  fervour,  and  prayers  were  everywhere  offered  up  for 
the  prolongation  of  the  life  of  the  most  powerful,  most 
serene,  and  most  gracious  sovereign,  under  whose  mild 
and  beneficent  rule  they  have  prospered  so  well. 

A  Te  Deum  was  sung  in  the  Greek  cathedral,  at 
which  all  the  Greek  clergy  of  the  city  officiated.  It 
was  a  gorgeous  and  not  unimpressive  scene.  The  sun 
streaming  through  the  windows  filled  the  white  interior 
of  the  building  with  a  flood  of  light,  against  the 
brilliancy  of  which  the  flickering  candles  vainly  strove 
to  assert  themselves.  The  silver-  and  gold-plated  icons 
in  the  screen,  the  richly-broidered  vestments  of  the 
priests,  and  the  gaudy  uniforms  of  the  Turkish  officials 
who  assisted  at  the  ceremony,  glittered  in  the  sunlight 
and  enhanced  the  effect  of  the  sonorous  chants,  re- 
verberated on  the  lofty  dome  of  the  temple.  The 
fumes  of  frankincense  added  a  touch  of  mysticism 
to  the  proceedings. 

At  the  close  of  the  service  the  Metropolitan  stood 
out  upon  the  topmost  step  of  his  throne,  between  two 
deacons,  each  holding  a  three-branched  silver  candle- 
stick burning  close  to  the  episcopal  cheeks.  From 
that  uncomfortably  torrid  eminence  the  All-holy  gentle- 
man delivered  himself  of  a  flowery  address,  in  which 
were  set  forth  at  great  length  the  manifold  blessings 
vouchsafed  to  the  Ottoman  Empire,  and  the  inhabitants 
thereof,  in  the  person  of  the  reigning  monarch.  Abdul 
Hamid  was  compared,  with  unconscious  humour,  to 
the  "  life-giving  sun,  whose  beams  animate  whatsoever 
they  shine  upon."  His  All-holiness  spoke  of  the  new 
roads,  railways,  charitable  and  educational  institutions, 

c 


34  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

"  which,"  he  said,  with  a  pathetic  effort  at  enthusiasm, 
**are  so  many  new  jewels  added  to  his  Majesty's 
crown."  But  he  discreetly  forgot  to  mention  the 
Armenian  massacres. 

The  whole  thing  was  a  melancholy  farce.  Of  the 
blessings  to  which  the  prosy  prelate  referred,  the  roads 
are  to  be  found  only  in  episcopal  panegyrics  and  some- 
times in  conventional  maps ;  the  railways  are  not 
Turkish  except  in  their  slowness  ;  as  for  the  institu- 
tions named,  the  Sultan"  has  as  much  to  do  with  their 
foundation  and  maintenance  as  the  Emperor  of  China ; 
but  he  tolerates  them,  and  to  be  let  alone  is  in  the 
East  the  greatest  boon  the  subject  can  hope  or  pray 
for.  The  contrast  between  the  hyperbolic  tone  of  the 
bishop's  effusion  and  the  apathetic  attitude  of  the  scant 
congregation  was  a  source  of  relief  to  the  spectator ; 
the  cheers  with  which  the  peroration  was  greeted  were 
few,  half-hearted,  and  manifestly  uttered  to  order,  and 
I  left  the  church  with  the  comforting  reflection  that 
there  is  some  hope  yet  in  a  flock  which  will  not  go 
all  lengths  with  its  pastor. 

The  streets  and  bazaars  outside  were  resplendent 
with  a  cheap  magnificence  by  no  means  peculiar  to 
the  East.  Green  boughs  and  red  flags,  party-coloured 
lanterns  and  paper  chains  hung  along  and  across  the 
main  thoroughfares,  which,  it  being  Saturday,  were 
thronged  by  noisy  crowds  of  Jews  in  holiday  attire, 
idly  strolling  up  and  down  and  chewing  pumpkin 
seeds.  This  is  a  characteristically  Hebrew  way  of 
spending  the  day  of  rest.  They  hold  it  a  sin  to  drive 
on  the  Sabbath,  and  they  therefore  walk  the  livelong 
day — within  a  radius  of  a  Sabbath-day's  journey — 
leaving  behind  them  interminable  trails  of  seed  shells. 
The  Christian  tradesmen,  in  spite  of  their  anxiety  to 


AN  EASTERN  JUBILEE  35 

appear  loyal,  contented  themselves  with  decorating 
their  shops  without  closing  them.  Saturday  is  a  red- 
letter  day  for  them,  as  it  is  the  only  day  of  the  week 
on  which  they  are  free  from  Semitic  competition,  and 
they  are  naturally  eager  to  make  the  most  of  it. 

In  the  evening  I  hired  a  boat  and,  accompanied  by 
a  friend,  rowed  out  into  the  harbour.     The  view  of  the 
illuminated  town  from  the   sea  was   superb  and  like 
nothing  I  had  witnessed  hitherto.     From  the  water's 
edge  up  to  the  summit  of  the  citadel  there  spread  a 
scintillating  amphitheatre,  almost  rivalling  in  splendour 
the   heavenly   vault  with   its  myriads   of  stars.     The 
minarets  shot  up  slim  and  slender,  their  higher  portions 
dimly  discerned  in  the  darkness,  while  their  circular 
balconies  stood  boldly  out  radiant  with  rows  of  tiny 
tremulous  lights.     The  White  Tower  in  the  eastern 
extremity  of  the    quay  was    tastefully   outlined  with 
borders  of  coloured  lamps,  which  made  its  battlemented 
walls  and  their  reflections  in  the  water  beneath  look 
like  those  of  a  castle  in  fairy-land,  such  as  one  loved 
to  dream  of  in  the  days  of  long  ago.     Even  the  dreary 
and,  in  the  daytime,  ungainly  barracks  beyond  managed 
to  borrow  some  of  the  splendour  of  their  surroundings. 
The  open  plain  in  front  of  them  was  ablaze  with  fire- 
works, while  far  away  in  the  background,  but  looking 
deceptively  near,  towered  grimly  the  conical  peak  of 
Mount  Khortatch.     The  buzz  of  many  voices  talking, 
laughing,  and  singing — with  an  occasional  deep-throated 
cheer  from  the  troops — was  wafted  from  the  shore,  and 
I  rested  gazing  spell-bound,  with  one  half  of  my  being 
in  Salonica  and  the  other  half  in  the  capital  of  Haroun- 
al-Raschid,  when  lo  !  a  firework  of  a  different  nature 
broke  in  upon  my  reverie. 

A  great  cloud  of  red  smoke  suddenly  rose  from 


36  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

the  west  end  of  the  town,  where  the  bazaar  slept  in 
darkness.  Tongues  of  flame  and  jets  of  sparks  soon 
followed,  and  a  double  boom  of  cannon  from  the  citadel 
confirmed  my  suspicion  that  this  was  not  a  feu  de 
joie.  My  companion,  a  resident  of  Salonica,  observed 
calmly : — 

"  Some  one  has  taken  advantage  of  the  holiday  to 
set  fire  to  his  shop." 

Two  hours  later  on  my  way  home  I  met  the  fire- 
engines  going  to  the  rescue. 


CHAPTER   V 

DANCING  AS  A  RELIGIOUS  FUNCTION 

A  LONG  dusty  road,  with  broad  acres  of  Mohammedan 
tombs  stretching  on  either  side  of  it,  leads  from  the 
Vardar,  or  western,  Gate  of  the  town  to  the  Mevlevi- 
haneh,  the  abode  of  the  Dancing  Dervishes.  The 
ballet,  though  not  advertised  in  the  ordinary  way,  is 
extremely  popular.  On  Mondays  and  Thursdays 
through  the  spring  and  autumn  people  of  all  sorts  and 
sexes  throng  the  Convent,  and  are  freely  admitted  to 
the  gallery,  whence  they  can  witness  the  performance, 
while  refreshing  themselves  with  oranges  and  lemonade, 
or  anything  else  they  choose  to  bring  with  them. 

It  was  on  a  Monday,  late  in  the  season,  that  I 
followed  a  group  of  these  playgoers,  and  I  never 
enjoyed  a  matinee  more  thoroughly.  The  heat  of  the 
afternoon  was  tempered  by  the  gentle  breeze  from  the 
sea,  and  the  shady  cloisters  of  the  Convent  formed  an 
agreeable  contrast  to  the  glaring  light  of  the  outside 
world.  Having  slaked  my  thirst  at  the  cool  fountain 
in  the  middle  of  the  court,  I  proceeded  to  secure  an 
advantageous  corner  in  the  strangers'  gallery.  Soon 
after  commenced  the  performance. 

The  worshippers,  having  divested  themselves  of 
their  flowing  cloaks,  stretched  out  their  arms  and 
began  to  revolve,  at  first  slowly  and  rhythmically,  but 
gradually  warming  to  it.  In  a  few  seconds  the  hall 
beneath  was  alive  with  a  host  of  figures  reeling  and 


38  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

twirling  round  and  round  with  ever-increasing  rapidity, 
to  the  weird  music  of  reed-flutes  and  cymbals — both 
instruments  conducive  to  spiritual  exultation.  In  a 
few  more  seconds  their  long  white  robes  bulged  and 
expanded  like  colossal  parasols,  until  the  whole  mass 
merged  in  one  immense  cloud  of  calico,  while  their 
towering  head-dresses  assumed  in  the  spectator's  be- 
wildered eyes  the  appearance  of  a  large  congregation 
of  chimney-pots  suddenly  gone  whirling  mad. 

After  several  hours  of  severe,  but  highly  decorous 
and  disciplined,  waltzing,  the  mystic  enchantment 
commenced  to  overpower  the  pious  revellers.  Their 
eyes  closed  by  degrees,  their  heads  drooped  on  their 
chests,  their  arms  dropped  to  their  sides,  the  white 
parasols  flagged  and  shrank,  and  one  after  another  the 
demented  chimney-pots  collapsed  upon  the  floor  in  a 
state  of  utter  exhaustion.  The  music  has  ceased,  most 
of  the  spectators  have  departed,  and  nothing  is  to  be 
heard  except  the  short  gasps  of  the  white-clad  figures, 
dimly  seen  through  the  gathering  darkness  lying  pros- 
trate below.  They  are  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  their 
sema,  or  communion  with  God. 

In  that  enviable  frame  of  mind  I  left  them  and 
returned  home  across  the  straggling  cemeteries,  over 
which  the  moon  now  shed  her  silver  light,  ruminating 
on  the  marvellous  multiformity  of  human  folly.  Surely 
not  uninspired  was  the  idiot  who  translated  Sopho- 
cles's  famous  line  into  :  "  Many  are  the  awful  things, 
and  nought  is  more  awful  than  man  !  " 

This  curious  sect  was  founded  early  in  the  thirteenth 
century  by  a  Persian  philosopher  and  saint,  whose 
name  was  no  less — it  could  hardly  be  more — than 
Djelal-ud-din-er-roumi.  This  gentleman,  among  other 
things,  wrote  verses,  worked  miracles,  and,  according 


DANCING  AS  A  EELIGIOUS  FUNCTION       39 

to  tradition,  seems  to  have  succeeded  in  abolishing 
distance.  It  is  recorded  of  him  that  he  could  com- 
municate with  fellow-sages  and  saints  across  space 
without  the  medium  of  any  material  instrument.  He 
could  also  transport  himself  at  a  moment's  notice  to 
the  remotest  regions  of  the  earth,  a  form  of  exercise 
to  which  he  is  said  to  have  been  particularly  addicted. 
Moreover,  he  instituted  the  picturesque,  if  somewhat 
eccentric,  means  of  attaining  religious  ecstasy  described 
above,  and  otherwise  benefited  mankind. 

Those  who  are  initiated  in  the  mysteries  of  the 
Mevlevi  doctrine  maintain  that  its  fundamental  tenet  is 
love,  all  embracing  and  all  absorbing.  Their  dance  is 
interpreted  as  a  symbolic  expression  of  the  harmony  of 
the  universe,  wherein  the  revolving  monks  represent 
the  revolving  stars  of  heaven,  and  their  music  the 
music  of  the  spheres.  The  present  writer,  not  being 
privileged  with  any  acquaintance  with  the  esoteric 
meaning  of  the  Mevlevi  mysteries,  is  unable  to  pro- 
nounce how  far  this  exposition  is  correct,  and  how  far 
it  is  merely  ingenious.  Nor,  curiously  as  he  has 
scrutinised  the  faces  of  several  Mevlevis,  has  he  suc- 
ceeded in  discovering  in  them  that  "  expression  of 
devout  serenity,"  and  those  other  angelic  attributes, 
with  which  they  have  been  endowed  by  the  enthusiasm 
of  a  recent  lady  writer.  To  his  coarser  male  percep- 
tion the  Mevlevi  countenance  revealed  nothing  more 
spiritual  than  the  serenity  which  comes  from  intellec- 
tual vacuity  assisted  by  a  perfect  digestion. 

Nevertheless,  according  to  all  accounts,  the  Mev- 
levis are  distinguished  by  a  meekness  of  temper  and  a 
philosophic  breadth  of  view  which  place  them  in  a 
most  flattering  contrast  to  the  orthodox  Mohamme- 
dans, who  cannot  be  said  to  labour  under  either  of 


40  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

those  weaknesses.  They  are  also  described  as  appreci- 
ating European  ways,  although  their  appreciation  has 
not  yet  advanced  very  far  beyond  the  Platonic  stage, 
except  in  the  matter  of  the  products  of  European  dis- 
tilleries. In  this  sense  the  Mevlevis  can  be  truly  said 
to  have  imbibed  the  spirit  of  Western  civilisation. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  their 
quietistic  habits  and  love  of  serenity  prevent  the  Mev- 
levis from  taking  an  active  part  in  political  affairs. 
Could  they  be  induced  to  quit  their  Castle  of  holy 
Indolence,  and  mix  in  matters  mundane,  such  sole- 
cisms as  massacres,  spoliations,  and  persecutions  would 
perhaps  be  less  frequent  features  of  the  Ottoman  ad- 
ministrative style.  For,  despite  their  mysticism,  or 
probably  on  account  of  it,  the  Mevlevis  enjoy  a  pro- 
digious amount  of  influence  and  popularity  in  the 
Mohammedan  world.  On  the  other  hand,  the  history 
of  Spain  shows  that  the  participation  of  monastic 
orders  in  the  government  of  men  is  hardly  an  un- 
mixed blessing,  and  perhaps  the  Christians  of  the  East 
ought  to  be  grateful  to  the  Mevlevis  for  their  absten- 
tion from  politics.  At  present  the  sect  enjoys  the 
reputation  of  an  interesting  body  of  men,  whose  sole 
ambition  seems  to  be  to  whirl  through  life  and  hop 
into  heaven  with  the  minimum  of  friction,  a  title  to 
respect  which  might  be  forfeited  by  any  departure 
from  this  innocuous  programme. 


CHAPTER  VI 
HOW  I  BECAME  A  FRENCH  JOURNALIST 

When  I  applied  to  H.M.  Consul  for  a  passport  into 
the  interior,  I  found  that  the  thing  was  not  so  simple 
as  I  had  imagined.  The  Consul  first  endeavoured  to 
dissuade  me  from  my  purpose  by  laying  stress  on  the 
badness,  or  even  absence,  of  roads  and  bridges,  on  the 
prevalence  of  brigandage  and  revolutionary  agitation, 
and  especially  on  the  extreme  suspiciousness  of  the 
Turkish  authorities,  who  are  averse  to  strangers  spying 
the  nakedness  of  the  land  and  the  misery  thereof.  I 
was  solemnly  assured  that,  if  I  escaped  being  drowned 
in  some  river,  or  assassinated  by  Bulgarian  patriots,  I 
was  certain  to  be  escorted  to  the  nearest  seaport  by  the 
police.  On  finding  me  obdurate,  the  Consul  proceeded 
to  inform  me  that  the  British  Embassy  at  Constanti- 
nople had  some  twenty  years  before  issued  a  circular 
to  the  efi'ect  that  no  British  subject  should  travel  in 
the  interior,  or,  if  he  did  so,  he  would  have  to  travel 
at  his  own  risk  and  peril,  and  should  not  count  on  the 
Ambassador's  protection. 

This  last  statement  surprised  me  considerably.  I 
knew  that  Europeans  of  other  nationalities  not  only 
travelled  without  let  or  hindrance  from  their  diploma- 
tic representatives,  but,  if  they  came  to  grief,  the  Porte 
was  held  responsible,  and  I  could  not  see  why  a  British 
subject  should  be  denied  a  privilege  accorded  to  Ger- 
mans, Russians,  and  Frenchmen.     Afterwards  I  learnt 


42  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

that  the  circular  in  question  had  been  issued  in  conse- 
quence of  the  capture  at  that  time  by  brigands  of  a 
Scotch  gentleman  of  an  enterprising  turn.  The  Sultan 
had  been  made  to  pay  the  ransom,  which,  if  I  remem- 
ber rightly,  amounted  to  the  respectable  figure  of  fifteen 
thousand  pounds  Turkish.  But  there  was  a  strong  and 
apparently  not  ill-founded  suspicion,  shared  both  by 
the  Turkish  authorities  and  by  the  foreign  colonies  at 
Salonica,  that  the  canny  Caledonian  was  a  not  un- 
willing victim,  and  that  he  had  in  fact  received  a  share 
of  the  spoil.  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  felt  that  I  had  gone 
too  far  to  retreat,  and  I  told  the  Consul  that  I  was 
ready  to  take  the  consequences. 

The  one  thing  needful  was  an  excuse  for  travelling 
without  arousing  suspicion,  something  more  intelligible 
to  the  Ottoman  mind  than  literary  research.  This  was 
furnished  to  me  by  the  editor  of  a  local  French  journal, 
who  readily  accepted  my  offer  to  travel  as  his  corre- 
spondent. He  forthwith  dubbed  me  "  Redacteur,"  and 
I,  in  return  for  this  title,  undertook  to  interview  his 
subscribers  in  the  interior  and  dun  them  for  their 
subscriptions.  I  succeeded  in  collecting  a  few  pounds 
for  him,  and  though  the  sum  was  small,  it  evidently 
was  more  than  the  worthy  editor  ever  expected  to 
receive  ;  at  least  so  his  warm  expressions  of  gratitude 
intimated.  That  is  all  he  wanted.  Writing  is  not 
among  the  correspondent's  duties  in  Turkey,  as  the 
only  things  that  deserve  to  be  recorded  are  forbidden 
subjects. 

The  first  and  chief  difficulty  having  been  happily 
eliminated,  I  proceeded  to  provide  myself  with  some 
of  the  most  indispensable  necessaries  of  rough  travel. 
Among  these  were  a  box  of  powder  to  be  used  in  de- 
fence   against  bugs   and   other   nocturnal  enemies,    a 


Mv  Passport. 


HOW  I  BECAME  A  FRENCH  JOURNALIST     43 

bottle  of  quinine  in  anticipation  of  malaria,  and  a 
big,  stout,  iron-shod  cudgel  as  a  means  of  warding  off 
the  attacks  of  shepherd's  dogs — an  unsociable  breed  of 
brutes  as  dangerous  to  the  wayfarer  in  Macedonia  as 
their  Italian  cousins  are  to  the  tourist  in  the  Roman 
Campagna.  Furthermore,  I  procured  letters  of  intro- 
duction to  several  people  in  the  interior,  trusting  that 
they  in  their  turn  would  supply  me  with  introductions 
to  others.  My  expectation  was  fully  realised,  and  I 
never  went  to  any  town,  village,  or  hamlet  without  a 
batch  of  these  useful  credentials  in  my  pocket.  This 
is  the  only  way  to  see  Macedonia.  By  no  other 
means  is  it  possible  to  come  in  contact  with  the 
people  and  get  a  true  insight  into  the  life  of  the 
country. 

Strong  in  the  possession  of  these  weapons,  I  once 
more  repaired  to  H.M.  Consulate  and  asked  for  my 
passport.  The  Consul  may  have  been  somewhat 
staggered  to  hear  me  describe  myself  as  Redacteur  du 
X —  de  Salonique ;  but  it  was  beneath  his  dignity  to 
evince  any  sign  of  surprise,  and  he  procured  me  a 
teskereh  without  further  demur.  This  was  a  very 
imposing  document,  16  inches  in  length  by  12  in 
breadth,  headed  with  a  mystic  design,  which  looked 
like  a  cross  between  a  spider  and  a  swallow,  but  in 
reality  was  the  imperial  polygram.  The  document, 
polygram  and  all,  cost  me  five  shillings,  the  cavass's 
bakshish  included,  and  even  as  a  mere  literary  curiosity 
was  cheap  at  the  price.  It  is  an  official  recognition 
of  my  claims  to  the  title  of  ghazetdji,  or  journalist, 
and  it  constitutes  a  far  more  flattering  portrait  of  my 
person  than  the  one  presented  by  my  looking-glass. 
Among  other  things,  I  am  therein  described  as  exceed- 
ingly tall,  with  light  hair,  and  eyes  recalling  the  azure 


44  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

of  the  sky,  whereas  Nature  has  blessed  me  with  a 
medium  height  (unfriendly  observers  might  even  call 
me  short  without  being  absolutely  guilty  of  falsehood), 
black  hair,  and  dark  eyes.  So  remote  is  prosaic  reality 
from  the  efforts  of  Turkish  official  idealism  even  in  its 
cheapest  form. 


CHAPTER  VII 

FROM  SALONIOA  TO   SERRES 

The  first  part  of  my  journey  was  of  a  comparatively  un- 
exciting character,  as  it  had  to  be  performed  by  rail. 
The  train  leaves  Salonica  at  5  a.m.  ;  the  consequence 
was  that  I  had  to  make  two  efforts  before  I  succeeded 
in  boarding  it.  I  had  decided  to  start  on  Monday, 
September  10,  and  I  did  so,  but  on  that  day  I  got  no 
farther  than  the  station.  On  alighting  there  I  found 
the  train  gone.  There  was  no  one  on  the  platform 
except  a  tom-cat  and  a  Turk.  The  former  was 
washing  his  face  on  the  top  of  a  packing-case  ;  the 
latter  stood  with  a  pyramid  of  luggage  by  his  side, 
philosophically  smoking  his  morning  tchihooh.  He 
looked  for  all  the  world  as  if  he  too  had  missed 
the  train,  and  was  patiently  waiting  for  the  next,  so 
I  asked  him  when  that  was  due.  He  took  the  pipe 
out  of  his  mouth  and  stared  at  me,  then  put  the 
pipe  back  into  his  mouth  and  stared  at  the  cat ;  finally 
he  answered  : — 

"  To-morrow — please  God  !  " 

I  imitated  his  stoicism  and  quietly  returned  to  bed, 
the  wiser  for  the  reflection  that  it  is  only  the  early 
riser  that  catches  the  train  in  Turkey.  Next  day,  to 
avoid  a  similar  mishap,  I  impressed  on  the  servant  the 
importance  of  calling  me  before  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  I  made  it  the  condition  on  which  his  bakshish 
depended,  and  went  to  bed  confident  that  there  was  no 


46  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

fear  of  my  being  allowed  to  oversleep  myself  The 
result  exceeded  my  expectations. 

I  was  in  the  midst  of  a  most  fascinating  dream — a 
murder,  a  mystery,  a  detective,  and  complications  of  a 
sentimental  nature.  I  was  just  entering  into  a  subtle 
psychological  analysis  when  it  began  to  thunder — at 
least,  so  I  thought  at  first.  The  next,  and  true,  im- 
pression was  that  some  one  was  knocking  at  the  door ; 
then  a  voice — a  sweet,  small  contralto — came  through 
the  keyhole  : — 

"  Are  you  up,  sir  1 " 

I  looked  at  my  watch  :  it  was  1.30  a.m. 

"What  the  deuce  do  you  mean  by  calling  me  at 
this  hour?"  I  exclaimed,  with  some,  I  hope  not  quite 
irrelevant,  irritation. 

"  You  said  you  wished  to  be  called  before  four,  sir," 
rejoined  the  voice  through  the  keyhole. 

"  Go  to  the  devil,"  answered  I,  turning  to  the  other 
side. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir  ? " 

His  meekness  disarmed  me. 

"  Go  to  bed,"  I  emended,  and  he  went. 

Afraid  lest,  if  I  fell  asleep,  I  should  miss  the  train 
again,  I  sat  up  reading  till  about  four  o'clock.  Then  I 
got  up,  ordered  breakfast,  and  in  less  than  half-an- 
hour  was  driving  to  the  station.  The  early  drive 
through  the  town  was  well  worth  the  sacrifice  of  a  few 
hours'  sleep,  including  even  a  psychological  dream. 

It  was  a  dark,  chilly  morning.  The  moon  shone 
tearfully  through  a  thin  gauze  of  vapour,  and  a  few 
stars  blinked  sleepily  in  the  grey  sky.  The  minarets 
and  cypress  trees  of  the  mosques  which  we  passed  on 
the  way  loomed  eerily  in  the  twilight,  and  the  rattle  of 
the  wheels  on  the  cobbles  of  the  pavement  sounded 


FROM  SALONICA  TO  SERRES       47 

strange  in  the  deep  silence  of  the  street.  A  few 
baker's  shops,  cook-shops,  and  coffee-shops  were  begin- 
ning to  stir.  Through  the  half-open  shutters  of  one  I 
caught  sight  of  a  line  of  spits  and  skewers  slowly 
turning  before  a  red  fire,  with  bits  of  meat — the  famous 
Kehah — steaming  upon  them.  Shiny  saucepans  sim- 
mered in  a  row  over  the  stoves  on  the  counter  of 
another.  Near  the  end  of  the  town  we  met  several 
lumbering  carts  loaded  with  fragrant  newly-mown  hay 
and  drawn  by  loosely-harnessed  buffaloes  ;  but  apart 
from  these  tokens  of  life  the  world  was  fast  asleep,  and 
I  envied  it. 

Some  English  maps  do  not  mark  the  Salonica- 
Dede-agatch  Kailroad  at  all ;  others  mark  it  as  running 
across  the  neck  of  the  Chalcidic  Peninsula  and  then 
along  the  littoral  to  Dede-agatch,  They  are  both 
wrong.  The  latter  was,  I  believe,  the  original  plan, 
but  it  was  abandoned  for  strategical  reasons,  and  the 
railway  was  actually  built  farther  inland,  beyond  the 
range  of  naval  guns,  a  precaution  the  wisdom  of  which 
was  amply  proved  during  the  last  Greco-Turkish  War. 

The  train  for  some  fifty  miles  runs  in  a  northerly 
direction,  first  along  the  left  side  of  the  Gallico 
(anciently  Echedorus),  a  fairly  broad  but  shallow 
stream,  which  discharges  itself  into  the  Gulf  of 
Salonica  not  far  from  the  estuary  of  the  Vardar. 
Herodotus  states  that  when  Xerxes  marched  through 
Macedonia  on  his  way  to  Greece  his  army  drank  this 
river  dry.  Not  a  very  difficult  achievement,  one  would 
think,  even  for  a  moderately  thirsty  army  at  this  time 
of  year,  but  less  easy  in  winter.  In  this  respect  the 
Gallico  is  like  most  of  the  rivers  of  Macedonia — a  mere 
muddy  canal  in  the  summer,  after  the  first  rains  it 
swells  into  a  deep  and  impetuous  torrent,  overflowing 


48  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

its  banks  and  washing  away  whatever  may  chance  to 
be  upon  them.  Yet,  in  spite  of  these  periodical 
deluges,  there  is  one  attraction  which  draws  the  needy 
peasants  to  its  treacherous  side,  and  that  is  nothing 
less  than  omnipotent  gold. 

One  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Gallico  is  even  dis- 
tinguished by  the  alluring  name  of  Altin-der^,  or 
Golden-brook.  Close  to  this  stream  there  is  a  village 
called  Amber-Kioi,  and  its  inhabitants,  after  a  heavy 
rain,  go  forth  in  search  of  the  yellow  grains  deposited 
by  the  flood  on  the  banks.  The  quantity  of  the 
precious  metal  which  they  obtain,  though  insignificant 
in  itself,  is  sufficient  to  reward  them  for  their  labour ; 
they  sometimes  make  as  much  as  is.  6d.  a  day,  which 
in  Macedonia  is  good  pay  for  ten  hours'  work. 

The  modus  operandi  is  as  simple  and  primitive  as 
the  profits  are  meagre.  The  most  rudimentary  method 
is  to  fill  a  shallow  wooden  tray  with  sand,  pour  water 
upon  it,  and  then  shake  it  vigorously  sidewise  and 
lengthwise,  until  the  water  has  carried  off  the  earth, 
and  the  minute  grains  of  gold  dust,  being  heavier,  have 
settled  at  the  bottom.  A  somewhat  more  advanced 
and  complex  process  is  this  :  A  plank  with  notches,  or 
steps  fixed  at  intervals,  is  set  up  in  a  reclining  position. 
The  sand  is  heaped  upon  the  topmost  space,  and  the 
water  is  poured  over  it  by  means  of  a  dry  gourd 
attached  to  the  end  of  a  long  stick.  The  earth  is 
gradually  washed  off,  while  the  ore  is  arrested  by  the 
steps.  This  operation  is  repeated  again  and  again, 
and  then  the  partly-washed  gold  is  shaken  in  the 
wooden  tray  described  above. 

After  a  while  the  railway  crosses  the  Gallico  over 
an  iron  bridge,  and  for  some  distance  continues  along 
its  right  bank.     A  range  of  grey  cliffs  closes  in  the 


FROM  SALONICA  TO  SERRES       49 

view  on  this  side,  but  on  the  opposite  a  broad  undulat- 
ing plain  stretches  to  the  foot  of  a  far-off  line  of  hills. 
Several  tchiftliks,  or  farms,  are  scattered  over  this  plain, 
but  they  do  not  impress  one  as  enjoying  a  super- 
abundance of  prosperity.  The  land  is  imperfectly 
cultivated.  A  limited  number  of  unenclosed  wheat 
and  maize  fields,  with  the  crop  still  standing,  and  a 
few  poplar  trees  represent  all  useful  vegetation.  The 
rest  is  a  dreary  waste  overgrown  with  lusty  weeds. 
Here  and  there  a  quaint  structure  rises  from  amidst 
the  waving  corn.  It  consists  of  a  rude  platform 
littered  and  thatched  with  straw.  The  whole  fabric, 
resting  upon  four  high  crooked  poles,  looks  like  the 
clumsy  nest  of  some  unintelligent  bird.  It  is  a  field 
watchman's  look-out  place. 

Farther  off  a  thin  column  of  smoke  curls  up  from 
the  hole  in  the  roof  of  a  shabby  hovel  which,  in  the 
company  of  other  shabby  hovels,  sidles  up  against  a 
two-storey  house,  forming  with  it  three  sides  of  an 
irregular  square,  with  a  court  in  the  middle.  The  two- 
storey  house  is  the  farmer's  dwelling,  surrounded  by  the 
cottages  of  his  labourers.  In  the  court  a  flock  of  geese 
may  be  seen  splashing  in  a  muddy  pool,  or  a  number 
of  fowls  digging  in  a  dunghill.  These  creatures,  with 
a  few  sheep  and  cattle  which  pick  up  an  economical 
living  among  the  weeds  on  the  waste  yonder,  form  the 
sum  total  of  animal  life. 

The  sunrise,  to  which  I  had  been  looking  forward, 
proved  a  failure ;  a  red  ball  peeped  for  a  moment  over 
the  hills ;  but  it  almost  immediately  ducked  behind  a 
bank  of  clouds,  as  if  the  sun  were  ashamed  to  show  his 
face.  A  bunch  of  rays  now  and  again  shot  through 
the  rifts  of  the  veil  and  gilded  the  plain  ;  but  the  eifort 
was  spasmodical  and  unsatisfactory. 

D 


50  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

At  6.30  we  stopped  at  Salmanli,  a  comparatively 
cheerful  little  station,  with  an  avenue  of  acacias  along 
the  line,  and  a  small  copse  of  sombre  pines  and  stately 
poplars  a  little  way  off.  The  clouds,  which  had  been 
growing  thicker  and  blacker  as  we  moved  northward, 
now  dissolved  into  a  dull  slow  drizzle,  which  promised 
anything  but  a  pleasant  time  to  the  four  English 
officers  of  the  Mediterranean  fleet,  who  got  out  here, 
followed  by  a  gendarme  and  a  quantity  of  hampers, 
bags,  and  kettles  enough  to  victual  a  man-of-war  for 
a  week.  They  told  me  that  they  were  going  out 
shooting,  and  I  wished  them  luck.  A  few  minutes 
later,  when  the  train  started,  I  saw  them  from  the 
window  trudging  perseveringly  through  the  mud,  with 
their  guns  on  their  shoulders,  dragging  their  volumi- 
nous provisions  after  them — a  typical  English  party  in 
pursuit  of  pleasure. 

The  officers  gone,  I  was  left  alone  with  another 
passenger,  less  congenial,  but  infinitely  more  interest- 
ing, than  they.  It  was  a  Commissary  of  Police.  I 
must  seize  this  opportunity  of  observing  that  I  never 
travelled  in  a  Turkish  railway  carriage  without  having 
a  Commissary  of  Police  for  a  fellow-traveller.  Either 
every  other  Turk  is  in  the  police  service,  which,  con- 
sidering the  condition  of  the  Imperial  Treasuiy,  is  not 
probable,  or  these  gentlemen  must  spend  their  lives  in 
perpetual,  though,  so  far  as  one  can  see,  somewhat 
purposeless  motion.  The  present  specimen  of  the  race 
was  a  young  man  with  a  jaundiced  complexion,  dark 
almond  eyes,  arched  eyebrows,  and  a  heavy  black 
moustache.  He  made  no  pretence  to  a  chin.  He 
travelled  with  a  batch  of  official  documents  tied  up  in 
a  red  handkerchief,  which  would  have  easily  covered 
two-thirds  of  an  ordinary  billiard  table ;  an  old  volume 


FROM  SALONICA  TO  SERRES       51 

of  a  Turkish  magazine,  which  he  must  have  read 
ah'eady,  or  else  never  meant  to  read ;  and  a  small 
French  dictionary ;  and  he  was  fond  of  exhibiting  his 
white  teeth  and  a  fair  ignorance  of  French.  At  an 
early  stage  of  our  journey  he  addressed  me  in  that 
language  with  a  note  of  interrogation  at  the  end  of  the 
sentence,  the  purport  of  which,  when  it  dawned  upon 
me,  reminded  me  of  the  Consul's  ominous  words  about 
espionage. 

The  Commissary  wished  to  know  where  I  was  going. 
I  said  "  Serres."  He  further  expressed  the  desire  to 
become  cognisant  of  my  name,  my  age,  my  occupation, 
and  the  object  of  my  journey,  as  well  as  how  long  I 
intended  to  stay  at  Serres.  Then,  apparently  satisfied 
with  the  result  of  the  cross-examination,  and  as  if  con- 
scious that  he  had  done  a  good  day's  work,  he  slipped 
off  his  shoes,  stretched  himself  at  full  length  on  the 
opposite  seat — using  the  batch  of  documents,  maga- 
zine, and  dictionary  as  a  pillow — spread  a  second  red 
handkerchief  over  his  face  and  commenced  snoring 
vigorously.  When  the  tune  had  reached  its  highest 
pitch  I  was  induced  to  look  at  the  performer,  and, 
incredible  to  relate,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  dark  eye 
peering  fixedly  at  me  from  under  a  corner  of  the 
handkerchief — a  circumstance  which  upset  all  my 
preconceived  notions  regarding  deep  slumber ;  unless, 
indeed,  Turkish  Commissaries  of  Police  share  with 
hares  and  fairy  monsters  the  faculty  of  sleeping  with 
their  eyes  wide  open.  At  any  rate,  the  discovery  made 
me  keep  mine  so. 

At  seven  o'clock  we  reached  Sari-Gueul,  or  the 
Green  Lake,  a  name  applied  to  a  diminutive  sheet  of 
stagnant  water,  as  well  as  to  the  hamlet  near  it.  The 
station,  as  is    usual   in  such  cases,  was  but  distantly 


52  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

related  to  the  village,  and  might  have  borne  any  other 
name  with  the  same  degree  of  impropriety.  It  stood 
about  an  hour  and  a  half's  journey  from  the  nearest 
human  habitation,  in  the  midst  of  a  desolate  district 
with  an  unproductive  population  consisting  of  a  sleepy 
station-master  and  a  pair  of  sleepy  gendarmes.  There 
was  not  even  the  feeble  apology  for  a  refreshment 
room  found  elsewhere. 

Before  we  left  this  station  our  compartment 
received  an  addition  in  the  form  of  a  one-eyed  gentle- 
man of  doubtful  nationality.  He  had  hitherto  been 
travelling  in  a  crowded  second  -  class  carriage  and, 
availing  himself  of  the  stoppage,  he  proceeded  to 
climb  along  the  footboard  outside  in  quest  of  comfort 
and  pure  air.  These  inestimable  blessings  he  appar- 
ently discovered  in  our  compartment,  and  after  cock- 
ing his  only  eye  in  a  manner  meant  to  express  intense 
satisfaction,  he  opened  the  door  and  stepped  in. 

"Nasty  weather,"  he  remarked  to  me  in  a  kind 
of  French,  deliberately  picking  off  the  handkerchief, 
which  he  had  spread  over  his  fez  in  order  to  protect 
it  from  the  rain,  and  Avringing  it  out  of  the  window. 

Handkerchiefs,  the  critical  reader  must  have 
observed  by  this  time,  play  a  much  more  prominent 
and  complicated  rdle  in  Turkey  than  they  do  in  Eng- 
land. In  fact,  they  are  put  to  almost  every  conceivable 
use,  except  that  for  which  they  were  intended  by  their 
maker.  We  have  already  seen  a  handkerchief  used 
as  a  paper-case,  a  mosquito  curtain,  and  an  umbrella. 
Over  and  above  these  purposes,  it  sometimes  does 
duty  as  a  basket,  a  girdle,  a  turban,  a  collar,  and  last, 
but  not  least,  it  serves  as  a  boundary  line  between  the 
male  and  the  female  constituents  of  a  ring  of  dancers, 
and  supplies  the  leader  of  the  dance  with  an  effective 


FROM  SALONICA  TO  SERRES       53 

ornament  for  his  spare  hand.  Thus  many  and  various  are 
the  uses  to  which  even  the  simplest  article  can  be  turned 
by  the  combined  forces  of  necessity  and  ingenuity. 

The  country  from  Sari-Gueul  onwards  assumes  a 
look  of  relative  cheerfulness.  The  hills  recede  farther 
back  from  either  side  of  the  line,  the  plain  expands, 
and  a  larger  area  of  it  is  tilled.  The  few  villages  with 
which  it  is  sprinkled  wear  an  appearance  of  less  pro- 
nounced poverty,  and  one  could  almost  imagine  that 
the  very  cows  looked  less  melancholy. 

In  a  field  not  very  far  off  a  peasant  can  be  seen 
slowly  walking  behind  a  plough  drawn  by  a  team 
of  oxen,  whose  faltering  steps  he  regulates  with  a 
long  prod.  Both  plough  and  team  recall  the  days 
before  the  flood,  and,  if  the  evidence  of  a  picture  of 
Eden  which  I  afterwards  saw  in  a  Greek  church  is 
to  be  relied  upon,  this  method  of  agriculture  must 
go  even  further  back,  to  the  golden  age  before  the 
fall  of  mankind  from  its  pristine  state  of  innocence. 
In  that  work  of  art  Eve  is  depicted  in  a  fashionable 
blue  silk  gown,  plying  the  spindle,  while  her  lord,  in 
similar  attire,  is  quietly  ploughing  his  solitary  furrow 
with  an  apparatus  of  which  the  present  specimen 
might  well  be  the  lineal  descendant. 

While  I  was  indulging  in  these  philosophical  re- 
flections, my  fellow-travellers  were  snoring  blissfully, 
and  I  hope  honestly,  in  the  opposite  corners  of  the  seat 
facing  mine — knees  bent  at  obtuse  angles,  and  sole 
resting  against  sole.  The  jerk  of  the  train,  as  it  drew 
up  at  Kilindir,  interrupted  my  cogitations  and  their 
slumbers.  The  Italian — for  such  he  turned  out  to 
be — opened  his  unique  orb,  and  the  Turkish  Com- 
missary both  his,  and,  resuming  his  sandals,  stepped 
out  into  the  rain. 


54  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

Before  starting  on  my  journey  I  had  had  a  fairly 
substantial  breakfast,  as  breakfasts  go  in  the  East. 
But  what  with  the  excitement  of  the  early  drive,  the 
keenness  of  the  morning  air,  and  the  movement  of  the 
train,  I  now  began  to  feel  as  though  a  second  and 
enlarged  edition  of  the  repast  would  not  be  amiss,  and 
I  confided  my  sentiments  on  the  subject  to  the  Italian. 
I  had  been  trustful  enough  not  to  take  with  me  any 
provisions,  except  a  few  sandwiches  and  a  flask  of 
"  House  of  Commons,"  relying  on  the  railway  stations 
for  further  supplies.  But  I  was  cruelly  undeceived.  The 
monoculous  Italian  assured  me  that  it  was  not  worth 
while  getting  out,  as  the  station  could  supply  me 
with  nothing  eatable.  Nor,  he  added,  could  I  hope 
to  have  another  meal  till  I  got  to  Serres,  as  all  the 
stations  on  the  way  were  conducted  on  equally  strict 
abstinence  principles. 

"  But,"  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  with  a  gleam  of 
inspiration  in  his  eye,  "  wait  a  moment ! "  and,  spread- 
ing his  handkerchief  over  his  fez,  he  rushed  out  of  the 
carriage. 

"  In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  relate,"  as  novelists 
say,  he  was  back,  hauling  after  him  a  basket  of  re- 
spectable dimensions  into  the  carriage. 

*'  I  had  left  this  in  the  other  compartment,"  he 
explained.  "  There  is  here  enough  for  two.  My  wife 
always  insists  on  providing  me  with  a  breakfast  fit, 
so  far  as  quantity  goes,  for  a  whale." 

While  uttering  these  words  of  good  cheer,  he  was 
busy  spreading  a  newspaper  over  the  seat.  Then  with 
a  flourish  of  his  hand,  such  as  a  king  might  use  in 
bidding  a  brother  king  join  him  in  a  regal  banquet, 
he  said  : 

"  Favorisca,  signor !  " 


FROM  SALONICA  TO  SERRES       55 

I  was  overwhelmed  by  this  cordial  treatment — 
so  different  from  our  own  ideas  of  what  is  good  form 
towards  strangers — and  begged  to  be  excused.  But 
he  was  so  pressing,  and  so  obviously  sincere  in  his 
offer  of  hospitality,  and,  moreover,  his  wife  seemed 
to  be  such  an  excellent  cook,  that  at  last,  moved  partly 
by  a  desire  not  to  give  offence  and  partly  by  honest 
hunger,  I  accepted  the  invitation,  and  added  my  own 
slender  quota  to  the  mess.  My  good  Samaritan 
relished  the  sandwiches,  but  nothing  would  induce 
him  to  have  any  intercourse  with  the  "  House  of 
Commons." 

"  Excuse  me,  signor,"  he  answered  gravely,  "  but 
I  tried  whisky  once,  and  I  swore  that  it  should  be  the 
last  time." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"Well,"  he  replied,  with  an  apologetic  grimace, 
"  it  tastes — sauf  voire  respect — like  bugs." 

I  rejoined  that  I  did  not  know  what  bugs  tasted 
like,  but  that  I  pardoned  him  for  the  sake  of  his  wife's 
genius,  and,  being  more  cosmopolitan  in  my  own 
tastes  than  he,  I  willingly  accepted  a  glass  of  his 
Gumendja  wine — an  extremely  thin,  but  not  deleterious, 
beverage  of  native  growth.  In  a  bumper  of  this  nectar 
I  drank  the  health  of  the  illiistrissima  signora,  who 
had  unconsciously  laid  me  under  such  an  obligation, 
and  her  spouse  acknowledged  the  compliment  with 
a  courtly  bow. 

The  meal,  which  included  fish  and  fried  brains 
and  other  good  things,  was  wound  up  with  some 
excellent  peaches  and  apples  from  Uskub.  But,  long 
before  we  reached  the  dessert,  I  had  been  captivated 
by  my  host's  open-hearted  kindness.  It  should  be 
mentioned   that   he   insisted    on   my   using   the    only 


56  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

tumbler  first,  and  in  every  other  respect,  ab  ovo  usque 
ad  mala,  he  was  the  personification  of  southern 
urbanity.  He  never  asked  for  my  name,  and  I,  of 
course,  did  not  like  to  appear  more  inquisitive.  So 
that  to  this  day  I  have  no  idea  who  my  entertainer 
was,  except  for  the  information  which  he  incidentally 
dropped,  that  he  was  an  engineer  employed  on  the 
line.  His  hospitality  was  manifestly  prompted  by  the 
purest  motives,  perhaps  strengthened  by  the  Italian's 
good-will  towards  the  Englishman.  Nor  is  this  the  only 
time  during  my  travels  in  Macedonia  that  I  was  in- 
debted to  an  Italian  for  a  meal — but  that  is  another 
story. 

Having  touched  upon  the  feelings  with  which 
Englishmen  are  regarded  in  this  part  of  the  globe,  I 
am  tempted  to  say  a  few  words  more  on  the  subject. 
To  the  Turk,  I  am  convinced  from  experience,  an 
Englishman  is  an  infidel  dog,  just  like  the  rest  of 
them,  only  he  happens  to  have  somewhat  sharper 
teeth  than  most,  and  is  therefore  entitled  to  a  certain 
amount  of  consideration.  This  is  the  view  held  by 
Turks  of  all  classes,  and  in  dealing  with  Turkish 
officials  it  is  well  to  bear  it  in  mind.  An  English 
gentleman  in  the  presence  of  a  Turkish  Pasha  need 
not,  as  some  authorities  maintain,  "  sit  on  the  edge  of 
his  chair  with  his  hands  crossed  over  his  stomach  as  a 
sign  of  respect."  Indeed,  that  is  the  worst  sitting 
posture  he  can  adopt.  It  humiliates  him,  not  only  in 
his  own  eyes,  but,  what  is  worse,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Pasha.  The  Turk,  despite  his  haughty  demeanour  and 
contempt  for  the  giaour,  is  an  intellectually  weak 
animal,  and  nothing  impresses  him  more  than  a  firm 
and  manly  attitude.  This  is  a  trait  in  his  character 
which  is  often  ignored  by  people  who  ought  to  know 


FROM  SALONICA  TO  SERRES       57 

better.  Hence  the  innumerable  difficulties  and  diplo- 
matic failures  of  western  politicians  in  their  dealings 
with  the  Porte. 

The  wax  and  wane  of  this  or  that  European  power  s 
influence  with  the  Sultan  depends  quite  as  much  on 
the  ambassador's  personality  as  on  the  size  of  the 
power  which  he  represents.  The  weight  of  a  strong 
personality,  everywhere  great,  is  nowhere  greater  than 
in  a  country  where  so  much  rests  in  the  will  of  in- 
dividuals. Law  in  Turkey  is  but  the  shadow  of  a 
name.  In  reality  it  is  the  minister  of  the  law  who 
rules,  and  happy  is  the  man  who  succeeds  in  mastering 
that  minister.  English  prestige,  as  every  one  knows, 
has  suffered  much  of  late  years  in  the  Near  East. 
The  causes  of  this  decline  are  partly  political — we 
barked  too  much  and  bit  too  little  over  the  Armenian 
and  other  questions — but,  it  should  be  said,  more  than 
partly  personal.  The  Civis  Romanus  is  no  longer  the 
redoubtable  personage  he  was  in  Palmerston's  day,  yet 
there  still  survives  the  memory  of  the  awe  which  he 
once  inspired,  and  much  can  still  be  done  by  those  who 
know  how  to  turn  that  sentiment  to  account.  The 
way  of  doing  it,  however,  is  not  by  "  sitting  on  the 
edge  of  the  chair  with  one's  hands  crossed  over  one's 
stomach,"  but  otherwise. 

With  regard  to  the  other  nationalities  in  Turkey, 
the  Bulgarians  and  the  Servians  are  too  much  en- 
grossed in  their  love  for  the  White  Tsar  to  care  much 
for  the  English.  Their  confidence  in  Russia's  might 
and  friendship  is  such  as  to  render  them  comparatively 
indifferent  to  the  feelings  of  England.  The  Greeks  are 
the  only  race  in  the  Near  East  who  entertain  a  genuine 
regard  for  the  English.  In  my  sojourn  in  the  towns, 
both  on  the  coast  and  in  the  interior  of  Macedonia,  I 


58  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

was  amazed  to  find  the  South  African  War  as  common 
a  topic  of  discussion  as  it  was  in  England  at  the  time, 
and  the  enthusiasm  or  the  sympathy,  with  which  the 
news  of  each  good  or  ill  stroke  of  luck  that  befell  our 
arms  was  received,  was  such  as  would  have  astonished 
some  British  pro-Boers.  People  who  in  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances seldom  read  a  newspaper,  literally  devoured 
the  belated  journals  which  reached  them,  and  eagerly 
waited  for  fresh  issues.  Nor  vv^as  their  partisanship  of 
the  blind  and  unreasoning  kind.  Most  of  those  with 
whom  I  discussed  the  question  seemed  quite  alive  to 
the  chivalrous  and  sentimental  side  of  the  affair. 
"But,"  they  said,  "England's  cause  is  the  cause  of 
civilisation,  and  no  friend  of  civilisation  can  help 
wishing  it  a  complete  and  speedy  success." 

An  extreme  and,  in  its  expression,  rather  touching 
instance  of  this  feeling  of  Anglophilia  came  under  my 
notice  at  Salonica.  Some  of  the  English  residents  in 
that  city  pointed  out  to  me  the  shop  of  a  Greek  shoe- 
maker, and  told  me  that  its  owner,  when  the  war 
subscriptions  were  started,  appeared  before  one  of  the 
members  of  the  English  colony,  and  after  some  hesi- 
tation explained  that  he  wished  to  contribute  some- 
thing to  the  fund,  but,  being  very  poor,  all  that  he 
could  afford  to  give  was  this — and  he  produced  from 
under  his  apron  a  pair  of  boots  made  with  his 
own  hands.  That  shoemaker  was  a  happy  man 
when  he  was  told  that  his  donation  was  accepted 
and  appreciated. 

But  it  would  be  idle  to  quote  instances.  Wherever 
I  went  I  found  the  same  atmosphere  of  sincere  friend- 
ship for  England  and  the  English,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
that  it  was  to  this  circumstance  that  I  owed  in  a  large 
measure  the  many  tokens  of  regard  which  rendered  my 


FROM  SALONICA  TO  SERRES       59 

roamings  in  Macedonia  more  pleasant  and  less  perilous 
than  I  had  been  led  to  anticipate. 

Meanwhile,  the  train  was  moving  at  the  rate  of,  I 
should  say,  thirty-five  kilometres  (about  twenty-two 
miles)  an  hour — a  very  creditable  performance  for  a 
Turkish  train — and  soon  after  eight  o'clock  we  reached 
Doiran,  according  to  some  the  real  Green  Lake  (Prasias) 
of  the  ancient  Greeks.  The  station  lies  not  far  from 
the  eastern  shore,  and  from  that  point  the  passenger 
commands  a  good  view  of  both  lake  and  town.  Ihe 
latter  is  built  at  the  foot  of  a  black  mountain,  which 
rises  on  the  farther  side,  and  its  wealth  of  trees  and 
minarets  stamps  it  at  once  as  a  place  where  the  Blessed 
Prophet  has  a  multitude  of  followers.  The  minaret  is 
as  sure  a  sign  of  the  presence  of  the  Turk  as  the  coffee- 
shop  is  of  that  of  the  Greek.  The  Bulgarian  is  too 
unobtrusive  by  nature  to  possess  a  conspicuous  badge. 
Both  his  religious  and  his  political  sentiments  are  alike 
lacking  in  colour,  and  do  not  call  for  loud  expression, 
such  as  the  pious  Turk  seeks  and  finds  in  his  house 
of  prayer  and  the  expansive  Greek  in  his  house  of 
palaver. 

The  lake  is  large,  and  its  green,  gently-waving 
waters,  surrounded  as  they  are  by  an  amphitheatre  of 
imposing  mountains,  present  as  successful  a  combina- 
tion of  land  and  waterscape  as  a  tourist's  eye  can  wish 
to  see  anywhere.  It  is,  in  fact,  one  of  many  pieces  of 
magnificent  scenery  which  makes  one  wonder  how 
Macedonia  has  hitherto  escaped  the  fate  of  Switzer- 
land, North  Italy,  and  other  resorts  dear  to  the  man 
from  Cook's  and  his  flock.  Is  it  that  the  good  god 
Pan,  to  w^iom  the  peasants  still  do  homage,  has,  in 
return  for  their  worship,  undertaken  to  protect  their 
rural  privacy  from  the  profanation  of  the   foreigner's 


6o  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

foot  ?  This  explanation,  I  fear,  is  too  sentimental  to 
be  true  ;  but  a  moment's  cool  reflection  supplies  the 
real  reason.  A  country  in  which  a  Commissary  of 
Police  and  a  Colt  revolver  are  the  complete  traveller's 
inevitable  companions  is  not  the  most  attractive  or 
accessible  hunting-ground  to  tourists  of  the  *'  coupon  " 
type. 

The  minarets  of  Doiran,  though  forming  a  conclu- 
sive proof  of  the  creed  of  the  majority  of  its  inhabi- 
tants, are  no  index  to  their  nationality.  The  population. 
Christian  as  vrell  as  Mohammedan,  which  is  estimated 
at  between  seven  and  eight  thousand,  in  common  with 
most  of  the  people  along  the  railway  line  as  far  as 
Demir-Hissar,  speak  the  Bulgarian  language,  although 
Turkish  also  is  not  unknown  in  the  larger  towns.  To 
my  queries  concerning  the  nationality  of  these  people 
I  received  two  answers,  contradictory  in  appearance, 
yet  easily  reconcilable  by  those  who  are  familiar  with 
Eastern  ways  of  thought  and  expression.  The  Com- 
missary, being  a  Turk,  called  them  Greeks,  or  rather 
Romans,  Rouni.  He  was  thinking  of  their  religion. 
To  him  Christian  and  Greek  were  convertible  terms. 
The  engineer,  being  a  European,  called  them  Bulgars. 
He  was  thinking  of  their  language.  By  a  simple 
algebraical  operation  one  gets  the  nett  result, 
"  Christians  speaking  a  Slavonic  idiom,"  which  is 
as  far  as  the  cautious  student  can  go  with  a  clear 
conscience. 

The  railroad  at  Doiran  quits  its  northerly  course 
and  turns  to  the  east.  The  country  which  it  traverses 
is  both  picturesque  and  prosperous.  Culture  improves 
apace,  the  fields  are  better  tilled,  and  the  hills  are 
covered  with  trees.  This  improvement  is  partly  due 
to  the  industry  of  the  Slavonic  peasantry  of  the  district, 


FROM  SALONICA  TO  SERRES       6i 

and  partly  to  the  abundance  of  water,  rivulets  and 
canals  being  in  evidence  everywhere.  The  monotony 
of  the  everlasting  maize  is  here  relieved  by  rice  plan- 
tations and  green  shady  orchards. 

Akindjali,  the  first  village  after  Doiran,  at  which 
the  train  stops  for  a  few  minutes,  offers  a  marked  con- 
trast to  those  we  have  left  behind.  It  is  situated  in  a 
splendid  valley  hemmed  in  by  rocky  heights  on  both 
sides.  x\s  the  train  slowly  sped  between  them,  one 
could  catch  sight  of  the  clouds  nestling  in  the  hollows 
of  the  mountains,  or  encircling  them  in  a  cloak  of 
white  mist,  out  of  which  emerged  their  jagged  peaks, 
black  and  proud  and  defiant. 

Another  half-hour  has  brought  us  to  Poroy.  At 
the  foot  of  yon  frowning  mountain,  a  long  way  from 
the  station,  crouches  a  confused  mass  of  cottages  with 
a  few  white  minarets  looming  through  the  mist  :  this 
is  Mohammedan  Poroy.  But  behind  the  beetling  brows 
of  the  mountain,  though  invisible  from  the  road,  there 
are  two  more  Poroys,  one  of  them  Greek  and  the 
other  Bulgarian,  or,  I  ought  to  have  said,  one  orthodox 
and  the  other  schismatic  ;  so  one  gets  here  the  whole 
Macedonian  question  in  a  nutshell  —  Slav  pitched 
against  Greek,  and  both  faced  by  the  common  enemy, 
against  whom,  however,  they  neither  can  nor  will  com- 
bine. It  is  also  a  significant  fact  that  the  Mohammedan 
village  occupies  the  fertile  plain,  while  the  Christians 
are  relegated  to  the  barren  rocks. 

Farther  down  we  skirt  a  marsh  besprinkled  with 
islets  of  green  rushes — one  charitably  hopes  that  this 
is  not  the  thing  marked  in  the  maps  as  "  Lake " 
Butkovo — and  stop  at  liadji  Beylik,  or  the  Pilgrim 
Bey's  Domain,  a  small  hamlet  with  a  small  station. 
Near  the  latter  a  few  clumsy  buffaloes  tethered  to  their 


62  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

clumsy  carts  are  calmly  chewing  their  fodder  in  serene 
indifference  to  the  rain,  which  runs  off  their  backs, 
making  their  black  bristly  coats  shine  with  unwonted 
purity.  Buffaloes  seem  to  be  the  only  thoroughly  con- 
tented subjects  of  the  Sultan.  Their  contentment  is 
probably  due  to  the  thickness  of  their  skins  more  than 
to  the  intrinsic  happiness  of  their  lot.  Yet  even  buffa- 
loes have  been  known  to  lose  their  temper,  and  then 
they  are  exceedingly  dangerous. 

Soon  after,  the  train  crosses  the  Struma  and  turns 
to  the  south-east,  and  in  a  few  minutes  we  are  at 
Demir-Hissar,  of  which  more  anon. 

It  is  lo.  lo,  raining  harder  than  ever.  My  Italian 
friend  bids  me  adclio  here,  and  vanishes  into  the  mist, 
leaving  behind  him  the  memory  of  a  good  breakfast  to 
me,  and  the  remnants  of  the  same  to  the  Police  Com- 
missary, who  accepts  the  gift  with  the  eagerness  of  a 
Turkish  Government  official. 

We  pursue  our  south-easterly  course  with  only  one 
stoppage  at  Prossnik,  a  dismal  little  station  with  a 
pump  and  a  couple  of  gendarmes  outside.  The  village 
for  once  happens  to  be  within  bailable  distance,  and, 
despite  the  rain,  it  presents  a  very  respectable  and 
almost  cheerful  appearance.  There  is  a  decent-sized 
church  with  a  low  tiled  roof;  but,  by  way  of  com- 
pensation for  its  Christian  humility,  it  rejoices  in  a  tall 
square  belfry,  composed  of  four  arches  poised  on  the 
shoulders  of  one  another.  There  are  also  some  com- 
fortable two-storey  houses,  in  addition  to  a  number  of 
less  pretentious  dwellings  and  barns.  Many  ricks  of 
corn  can  be  seen  piled  in  the  open  fields,  a  prosperity 
due  in  great  measure  to  the  vicinity  of  a  tributary 
of  the  Struma  and  to  the  absence  of  a  Turkish  popu- 
lation. 


FROM  SALONICA  TO  SERRES       63 

The  river  at  this  point  bends  into  the  form  of  an 
obtuse  angle,  between  the  sides  of  which  lies  a  per- 
fectly level  plain.  In  the  middle  of  this  plain  stands 
the  township  of  Djoumaya,  also  known  as  Barakli,  or 
Lower  Djoumaya,  in  contradistinction  to  Djouma, 
Balya,  or  Upper  Djoumaya,  which  is  two  days'  journey 
from  the  former,  near  the  Bulgarian  frontier.  The 
name  of  the  place,  derived  from  the  Turkish  word  for 
Friday,  is  due  to  the  market,  which  is  held  here  on 
that  day  of  the  week,  and  which  is  frequented  by  the 
inhabitants  of  the  whole  district. 

The  town  consists  of  some  1200  houses,  which 
multiplied  by  5 — according  to  the  beautiful  method  of 
reckoning  population  in  the  interior  of  Turkey — gives 
a  rough  total  of  some  6000  souls.  Out  of  these,  5000 
are  Christians  and  the  rest  Mohammedan.  The  Chris- 
tian community  is  largely  made  up  of  Wallachs  and 
Bulgars,  both  of  whom  belong  to  the  Patriarch's 
church,  call  themselves  Greek,  and  support  Greek 
schools  attended  by  over  500  pupils  of  both  sexes. 
The  Bulgarian  Exarch's  propaganda  is  working  hard 
to  gain  over  this  district,  and  with  that  view  it  has 
established  in  the  town  a  school,  which,  however,  can 
hardly  boast  twenty  scholars,  and  those  imported  from 
outside.  Pupils,  unfortunately  for  the  Bulgarians,  do 
not  propagate  like  plants,  and  the  stock  has  to  be  kept 
up  by  continuous  importation. 

Djoumaya  presents  a  phenomenon,  by  no  means 
unique,  of  a  Wallachian-  or  a  Bulgarian-speaking  popu- 
lation considering  itself  Greek.  With  regard  to  the 
Wallachs  this  is  the  general  rule  throughout  Mace- 
donia, Epirus,  and  Albania.  The  instances  of  Wallachs 
espousing  the  Roumanian  interest  are  extremely  rare 
exceptions.     But  on  this  intricate  question  of  the  dis- 


64  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

tribution  of  the  rival  nationalities  in  Macedonia  I  in- 
tend to  speak  at  greater  length  in  the  sequel. 

A  few  minutes  after  1 1  o'clock  the  train  pulled  up 
at  the  Serres  station,  and  the  first  stage  of  my  journey 
was  accomplished. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

SERRES 

Having  had  my  teskereh  duly  inspected  by  a  Police 
Commissary,  and  my  luggage  searched  for  contraband 
tobacco  by  the  fat  Negro — not  of  the  Arcibian  Nights, 
but  of  the  Ottoman  Regie — I  hailed  one  of  the  stalwart 
Turkish  cabmen  who  lay  in  wait  outside  the  station, 
seeking  whom  they  might  drive.  To  my  horror,  in- 
stead of  one  there  sprang  a  dozen  of  those  giants, 
pushing,  elbowing,  pommelling  and  reviling  each  other 
for  the  possession  of  the  prize,  namely,  my  luggage. 
They  did  not  trouble  about  my  person,  for  their  cab- 
men's hearts  told  them  that  whithersoever  the  luggage 
goes  thither  its  owner  is  bound  to  follow.  At  last  I 
brought  the  combat  to  an  end  by  jumping  into  the 
nearest  of  several  rheumatic  vehicles — a  feeble  tra- 
vesty of  a  landau,  bristling  with  nails  where  no  nails 
should  be. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour's  furious  jolting  and  jerking 
through  a  maze  of  ill-paved,  half-deluged  lanes  brought 
me  safe,  though  much  shaken,  to  the  Hotel  de  I'Europe. 
A  glance  at  the  interior  of  the  establishment  satisfied 
me  that  there  was  little  of  Europe  about  it,  except  the 
name.  For  the  moderate  sum  of  7I  piastres  (about 
IS.  6d.)  a  night,  I  secured  one  of  the  two  bedrooms 
which  stood  on  the  first  and  only  floor,  gaping  at  each 
other  across  a  bare  spacious  hall  with  a  spacious 
balcony  at  the  further  end.     The  house  had  evidently 


66  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

seen  better  days.  The  room  into  which  I  was  shown 
was  an  apartment  of  palatial  proportions,  its  carpetless 
and  undulating  floor  forming  a  kind  of  ocean  upon 
which  a  few  pieces  of  furniture  floated,  not  unlike  the 
broken-hearted  survivors  of  a  shipwreck.  Its  chief 
ornament  was  a  trio  of  high -rouged,  fly-blown 
French  beauties,  who  leered  indecently  at  me  from 
their  rickety  frames — the  three  Graces  in  reduced 
circumstances. 

Having  established  myself  in  the  midst  of  this 
senile  and  comfortless  magnificence,  I  proceeded  to 
inquire  about  meals.  My  emotions  can  be  more 
easily  imagined  than  described  when  I  found  that 
there  was  no  food  to  be  had  at  the  hotel  nor,  on 
that  day,  anywhere  else  in  Serres.  It  was  a  fast- 
day  in  commemoration  of  the  "  cutting-ofi"  of  the 
precious  head  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,"  a  day,  in  the 
words  of  the  Greek  calendar,  to  be  kept  in  "  idleness 
and  starvation,"  and  no  restaurateur  would  imperil 
his  social  and  financial  welfare — to  say  nothing  of 
his  soul — by  opening  his  shop  on  that  day.  The 
Greeks  are  strict  in  the  observance  of  the  regula- 
tions of  their  Church,  but  I  had  never  before  met 
with  so  extreme  and,  subjectively  speaking,  so  ex- 
cruciating an  instance  of  austerity :  a  whole  town  in 
a  starving  mood  was  a  painful  revelation  to  me.  I 
remonstrated  with  the  hotel  manager : — 

"  Is  it  just,  is  it  right,  is  it  saintly,  is  it  even 
humanly  reasonable,  my  dear  Kyrie,  that  I  should 
condemn  myself  to  the  worst  of  deaths,  because  St. 
John  some  two  thousand  years  ago  allowed  his  pre- 
cious head  to  be  cut  ofi"?  " 

*'  It  is  not  lawful  to  argue  about  such  matters." 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  argue  ;  I  wish  to  eat ! " 


SERRES  67 

At  last,  by  dint  of  patient  persuasion  and  some 
silver,  I  contrived  to  obtain  a  little  bread  and  cheese 
and  some  grapes.  That  was  enough  for  the  present. 
As  for  the  future,  St.  John  surely  could  not  have  his 
head  cut  off  every  day. 

In  this  frame  of  mind,  resigned,  though  not  quite 
happy  or  even  moderately  satisfied,  I  stepped  out  upon 
the  balcony  and  stared  helplessly  at  the  lofty  flag-staff 
of  the  brand-new  Bulgarian  Commercial  Agency  oppo- 
site. So  far  as  I  can  recall,  thoughts  of  self-destruc- 
tion were  uppermost  in  my  mind,  but  my  heart  yearned 
for  a  meal. 

The  waiter  in  his  shirt-sleeves  and  in  the  familiar 
style  peculiar  to  Greek  waiters  and  to  no  one  else 
under  the  sun,  stood  beside  me,  volunteering  a  vast 
amount  of,  I  dare  say,  accurate  and  useful,  but  utterly 
irrelevant  information  about  men  and  things — "  and 
that  gentleman  in  fez,  Kyrie''  he  continued,  pointing 
to  some  one  passing  under  the  balcony,  "  is  Mr.  G.  of 

."      Now,  that  was  an   exceptionally  interesting 

piece  of  news.     I  had  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Mr. 

G.  of ,  and  it  was  my  intention  to  seek  him  out  at 

the  earliest  opportunity. 

*'  Run  down  and  ask  him  to  step  in  for  a  minute," 
said  I. 

But  the  waiter  was  a  youth  of  resource  and  a  hater 
of  superfluous  exertion.  Instead  of  running  down,  he 
simply  bent  over  the  rail  of  the  balcony  and  much  to 
my  annoyance  shrieked  at  the  top  of  a  by  no  means 
melodious  voice  : — 

"  Mr.  G.  !  INIr.  G. !  there  is  a  stranger  here  as  wishes 
to  speak  to  your  honour  !  " 

Mr.  G.  was  evidently  accustomed  to  the  ways  of 
Greek  waiters.     He  quietly  looked  round,  nodded,  and 


68  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

in  another  minute  was  mounting  the  stairs.  As  soon 
as  he  read  my  credentials  he  said  : — 

*'  I  will  send  for  your  luggage  presently.  Meantime 
you  will  come  home  with  me." 

I  protested  vigorously  ;  but  protests  availed  naught 
against  Mr.  G.'s  inexorable  kindness.  The  removal 
was  effected  quite  easily,  as  his  house  was  only  a  few 
doors  off.  And  thus  it  came  to  pass  that  I  found 
myself  installed  as  Mr.  G.'s  guest  for  an  indefinite 
period. 

Mr.  G.,  though  not  a  Greek,  was  married  to  a  Greek 
lady,  and  his  household  was  thoroughly  Plellenic.  They 
lived  in  a  rambling  old  house  at  right  angles  to  another 
rambling  old  house,  which  opened  into  the  same  court- 
yard and  was  occupied  by  Mr.  G.'s  mother-in-law  and 
grandmother-in-law,  and  their  united  states  of  sons  and 
daughters.  It  was  a  characteristic  Greek  household 
of  the  patriarchal,  or  rather  matriarchal  type  ;  for  the 
heads  of  the  first  two  generations  were  widows.  There 
was  Wisdom  in  that  family,  and  Beauty,  and  Music, 
and  Mirth. 

The  first  was  personified  in  the  form  of  the  grand- 
mother-in-law,  a  large  lady  full  of  years  and  reminis- 
cences, both  of  which  burdens — notwithstanding  the 
instability  of  her  set  of  frankly  false  teeth — she  carried 
with  remarkable  dignity  and  grace.  She  had  travelled 
much.  She  had  been  as  far  as  Salonica  in  the  west, 
and  Smyrna  in  the  east  ;  not  to  mention  a  winter  spent 
amid  the  snows  of  distant  Odessa.  And  many  were 
the  tales  she  could  and  would  tell  of  an  evening — when 
her  numerous  progeny  down  to  the  fourth  generation 
gathered  round  her — of  the  far-off  lands  which  she  had 
explored  and  of  the  strange  manners  of  their  inhabitants. 
Nor  were  her  narratives  always   wanting  in  interest. 


SERRES  69 

The  imaginativeness  of  her  race  was  only  subdued,  but 
not  extinguished,  by  her  age,  and  a  few  quaint  bits  of 
description  that  dropped  from  the  ancient  lady's  lips 
still  linger  in  my  memory.  Thus,  for  example,  Russia 
in  winter  was  "  the  country  in  which  you  can  see  your 
breath,"  and  Smyrna  in  summer  "  a  place  where  you 
can  almost  bake  your  bread  in  the  sun."  So  much  for 
Grandmother  Wisdom. 

Beauty  was  represented  by  two  of  her  grand- 
daughters. Mr.  G.'s  wife  —  a  small  olive-skinned 
brunette  with  a  classic  nose  and  great  black  eyes 
— was  a  most  favourable  specimen  of  Greek  woman- 
hood in  its  maturity ;  while  her  younger  sister,  fairer 
in  complexion,  and  yet  equally  Hellenic  in  cast  of 
features,  exhibited  the  same  beauty  in  the  flower. 
Music  and  mirth  were  the  common  heritage  of  all  the 
members  of  this  model  family,  male  and  female,  young 
and  old  alike,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  way  in  which 
my  first  evening  with  them  was  celebrated. 

Students  of  folk-lore  are  familiar  with  the  startling 
effects  sometimes  produced  in  fairyland  by  the  mere 
touch  of  a  certain  miraculous  talisman.  Well,  the 
entertainment  of  that  evening  in  felicity  of  concep- 
tion and  speed  of  execution  was  not  unlike  the  work 
of  such  a  talisman.  The  fast  ended  with  the  setting 
of  the  sun,  and  there  followed  a  copious,  though  ex- 
tempore feast,  in  which  all  the  members  of  the  matri- 
archal community  participated,  and  also  two  or  three 
specially-invited  guests.  One  of  these  was  a  Greek 
schoolmaster  from  the  interior — a  young  man  equally 
remarkable  for  his  wit  and  for  his  restlessness  of 
temper,  two  qualities  which  made  his  scholastic  career 
a  source  of  many  sorrows  both  to  himself  and  to  others. 
But  on  this  occasion  the  jovial  was  the  only  visible 


70  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

side  of  his  character,  and  there  is  no  need  just  now 
to  dwell  on  the  other. 

As  soon  as  dessert  came  on,  the  lively  young 
teacher  was  called  upon  to  oblige  with  a  song.  With- 
out waiting  for  a  second  invitation,  he  burst  into  a 
patriotic  ballad,  which  he  sang  with  considerable  skill 
and  a  prodigious  amount  of  feeling,  so  much  so  that 
on  looking  round  I  perceived  more  than  one  pair  of 
great  black  eyes  glistening  with  infectious  tears.  The 
song  had  for  its  theme  the  last  Cretan  struggle  and  its 
horrors.  It  contained  a  spirited  exhortation  to  the 
mothers  of  the  warriors  to  mourn  not  for  their  sons, 
"for  they  had  gone  forth  to  fight  for  freedom,"  and 
concluded  with  the  liberation  of  the  hapless  island 
and  a  prophecy  of  a  similar  deliverance  for  Macedonia 
and  the  other  limbs  of  "  Enslaved  Hellas."  All  this 
in  the  teeth  of  a  Government  which  taboos  the  classical 
names  of  the  provinces,  and  considers  Dante  a  dan- 
gerous article  of  importation  ! 

My  subsequent  experience  showed  to  me  even  more 
clearly  the  futility  of  all  attempts  to  stifle  national 
feeling.  In  the  privacy  of  their  homes,  and  when 
sure  that  there  is  no  spy  within  earshot,  the  Greeks 
of  Macedonia  often  give  vent  to  patriotic  sentiments, 
all  the  more  fervent  because  as  a  rule  they  have  to  be 
suppressed  by  the  dictates  of  prudence.  Sometimes 
these  expressions  take  the  less  poetical  form  of  criti- 
cism and  invective  against  the  powers  that  be,  and  the 
things  that  are  said  on  one  of  those  occasions  ought  to 
be  enough  to  keep  his  Sultanic  Majesty's  ears  burning 
through  all  eternity. 

The  ballad  was  followed  by  many  other  songs  of  a 
lighter  and  less  revolutionary  character.  Then  a  string 
band  was  improvised  out  of  a  violin,  a  guitar,  and  a 


SERRES  71 

mandolin,  and  the  vivacious  pedagogue  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  showing  that  he  could  handle  the  amateur 
fiddlestick  with  the  same  ease  with  which  he  presum- 
ably wielded  the  professional  birch. 

Later  in  the  evening  some  one  suggested  dancing. 
The  hall  was  cleared,  but  not  swept,  and  in  the  twink- 
ling of  an  eye  six  or  seven  pairs  were  waltzing  amidst 
clouds  of  dust,  while  the  boards  of  the  old  house  shook 
and  creaked  ominously  beneath  their  feet;  and  the 
gifted  schoolmaster,  violin  under  chin,  threaded  his 
way  between  the  whirling  couples  with  an  acrobatic 
dexterity  that  won  my  unqualified  admiration. 

And  so  the  evening  wore  on  in  harmony  undis- 
turbed by  a  single  note  of  discord,  musical  or  other- 
wise, and  when  the  party  broke  up,  I  retired  to  the 
room  assigned  to  me  to  dream  of  fiddling  school- 
masters and  dancing  dervishes. 

During  the  night  the  sky  cleared  up,  and  on  the 
next  day  it  was  quite  possible  to  walk  through  the 
streets  without  fear  of  drowning.  There  are  few  towns 
in  Turkey  more  thoroughly  and  delightfully  Oriental 
in  appearance  than  Serres  :  its  narrow,  crooked,  silent 
lanes  and  blind  alleys,  with  the  projecting  upper 
storeys  of  the  houses  often  meeting  in  a  close  embrace 
overhead  ;  its  roofed  bazaars  perfumed  with  the  drowsy 
spices  of  the  East  and  always  cloaked  in  mysterious 
twilight ;  the  glorious  green  vines  and  purple  wistaria 
trained  across  the  roads  ;  and  the  many  mosques  and 
khans,  are  all  suggestive  of  a  Haroun-al-Raschid  world. 
The  town  stands  on  the  edge  of  a  broad  plain 
which  stretches  far  to  east  and  south,  and  is  irrigated 
by  the  Struma  and  other  smaller  streams,  which  em- 
bogue  into  Lake  Tachino.  It  is  studded,  though 
sparsely,  with  maize,  barley,  wheat,  and  cotton  fields. 


72  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

as  well  as  with  vineyards  and  a  few  tobacco  planta- 
tions— a  new  and  not  quite  successful  experiment. 
The  abundance  of  natural  irrigation  renders  the  en- 
virons of  SeiTes  a  highly-favoured  district,  which  under 
a  commonly  decent  administration  might  easily  be 
made  into  one  of  the  most  productive  in  South-Eastern 
Europe.  Even  as  it  is,  such  is  the  fertility  of  the  soil 
that  stakes  newly  cut  and  planted  carelessly  into  the 
ground  for  the  construction  of  fences  put  forth  leaves, 
and  thus  a  clumsily-built,  artificial  enclosure  is  in  the 
course  of  a  few  weeks  automatically  transformed  into 
a  beautiful  hedge. 

With  such  advantages  to  start  with,  it  is  not  sur- 
prising that  Serres  can  boast  several  public  gardens, 
which  lie  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  Their  charm, 
it  goes  without  saying,  owes  little  to  art :  where  Nature 
is  so  bountiful  it  would  be  foolish  presumption  for 
man  to  interfere  with  her  work.  It  consists  in  a 
luxuriant  vegetation  unchecked  by  billhook,  as  it  is 
unencouraged  by  spade.  In  these  gardens  the  doleful 
cypress  and  the  lofty  poplar  rear  their  graceful  figures 
side  by  side,  from  amidst  a  number  of  humbler  com- 
panions. Ancient  plane-trees  spread  out  their  shadowy 
boughs  over  the  turbaned  heads  of  long-bearded,  mute, 
and  meditative  Turks,  who,  with  their  shoes  ranged  in 
a  row  behind  them,  sit  cross-legged  beneath;  telling 
the  beads  of  amber  rosaries,  puffing  at  yard -long 
tchibooks  or  narghilehs,  and  quaffing  infinite  quan- 
tities of  coff'ee.  It  is  to  be  presumed  that  they  are 
enjoying  themselves,  though  they  are  too  proud  or  too 
lazy  to  express  their  enjoyment  by  look  or  gesture  or 
word  of  mouth. 

To  this  self-same  spot  they  come  day  after  day,  sit 
under  the  shadow  of  the  self-same  plane,  and  sip  their 


SERRES  73 

coffee  with  the  self-same  air  of  stolid  satisfaction.  This 
is  what  they  call  keif,  a  comprehensive  term  which  has 
no  equivalent  in  any  European  language.  To  them  it 
represents  the  nearest  approach  to  heavenly  bliss  pos- 
sible on  earth.  We,  in  our  imperfect  vernacular,  may 
translate  it  as  a  thoroughly  passive  enjoyment  of  life — 
the  maximum  of  pleasure  at  the  minimum  outlay  of 
energy. 

Your  true  Turk  has  solved  the  problem  of  silent 
emotion.  He  has  only  a  limited  stock  of  words,  and 
an  even  more  limited  stock  of  ideas.  And  yet  he  has 
something  that  is  perhaps  better  than  either  words  or 
ideas.  He  has  a  plentiful  stock  of  sentiment,  not 
indeed  of  the  soft  Western  kind,  but  of  the  stern  sort, 
which  one  sees,  and  shudders  at,  in  the  pages  of  the 
Old  Testament.  He  feels  the  beauty  of  nature  deeply, 
though  it  has  never  occurred  to  him  that  it  is  possible 
or  necessary  to  express  that  feeling  in  words.  He 
expresses  it  more  emphatically  by  building  his  house 
on  a  site  commanding  a  beautiful  view,  and  by  sipping 
his  coffee  and  telling  his  beads  under  a  beautiful  tree. 
His  feelings  have  not  yet  attained  the  level  of  utter- 
ance. Yet  his  taciturnity  is  of  the  kind  that  has  ere 
now  earned  men  a  reputation  for  wisdom,  and  your 
genuine  Osmanli  is  too  wise  to  risk  that  reputation  by 
opening  his  mouth  except,  of  course,  for  the  very  ele- 
mentary purpose  of  inserting  nutriment.  But  for  this 
total  lack  of  sprightliness  the  Turks  might  well  be 
described  as  a  nation  of  bearded  babies.  There  is, 
however,  one  emotion  that  no  Turk  is  shy  of  express- 
ing. That  is  wrath.  When  in  that  mood  he  is  so 
eloquent  that  even  a  donkey  can  follow  his  meaning. 

Further  down  along  the  Panaghia  —  the  stony 
water-course  which  skirts  the  town — a  row  of  weeping 


74  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

willows  seem  to  bend  over  the  banks,  anxious  to  mix 
their  tears  with  the  jejune  stream,  which  at  this  time 
of  year  needs  reinforcement  sorely.  The  ruins  of  a 
fortress  frown  upon  this  lowland  scene  from  the 
summit  of  the  hill,  which  was  once  crowned  by  a 
citadel,  before  citadels  went  out  of  fashion.  Still 
lower  down  may  be  seen  the  bare  walls  of  a  mosque 
burnt  many  years  ago,  but  never  rebuilt  or  repaired. 
The  Turk,  next  to  erecting  a  new  building,  hates 
nothing  more  than  repairing  an  old  one.  Laissez-faire 
is  his  motto,  and  he  acts  up  to  it  with  shocking  con- 
sistency. Everything  —  ruination  included  —  is  from 
Allah,  and  who  dares  oppose  Allah's  will,  or  who  can 
stay  His  hand?  So,  when  a  building  falls  into  decay, 
it  is  first  piously  suffered  to  go  from  bad  to  worse,  and 
then  it  is  abandoned.  The  materials  are  utilised  for 
other  purposes,  as  they  are  wanted.  In  like  manner, 
when  the  spade  accidentally  turns  up  some  ancient 
statue  or  inscription,  it  is  allowed  to  remain  exposed 
for  some  time,  and  then,  if  too  big  to  be  used  en  bloc, 
it  is  broken  in  pieces  and  used  in  lieu  of  bricks. 
Sarcophagi  fare  better.  A  hole  bored  in  the  back  and 
another  in  the  front  suffice  to  transform  the  tomb  of  a 
dead  hero  into  a  water-cistern  for  the  use  of  a  living 
Pasha,  while  the  lid,  when  turned  over,  makes  an 
excellent  and  elegant  wayside  trough,  where  weary 
mules  can  slake  their  thirst  and  bless  the  man  who 
invented  sarcophagi. 

As  I  turned  from  the  contemplation  of  these  ruins, 
my  eye  caught  sight  of  a  caravan  of  the  last-named 
animals  slowly  ambling  down  the  hillside,  loaded  with 
what  I  in  my  ignorance  at  first  took  for  colossal  hen- 
coops. On  closer  inspection  they  turned  out  to  be 
maffas,  or  palanquins,  carrying  inside  them   Turkish 


SERRES  75 

ladies,  jealously  guarded  against  the  rays  of  the  sun 
and  the  glances  of  men.  Each  mule  bore  one  of  these 
canvas  cages  strung  on  either  side  of  the  pack-saddle, 
and,  as  they  swayed  past,  one  could  hear  above  the 
creaking  of  the  maffas  and  the  tinkling  of  the  bells 
which  dangled  from  the  beasts'  necks,  the  high-pitched 
tones  of  the  imprisoned  beauties,  interchanging  com- 
pliments, or  maybe  invectives,  across  the  mule's  back. 
They  were  returning  to  town  from  the  heights  of  Lia 
Ilia,  a  summer  resort,  whither  wealthy  Mohammedans 
are  wont  to  seek  refuge  from  the  scorching  heat  and 
the  mosquitoes  of  the  plain. 

All  this  looks  undoubtedly  Turkish.  But  appear- 
ances here  as  elsewhere  are  deceptive.  After  a  few 
days'  sojourn  in  the  place  one  finds  that  the  Christians 
are  quite  as  numerous  as  the  Mohammedans.  Only 
the  latter,  as  usual,  enjoy  the  advantages  of  union, 
while  the  former  are  rent  by  racial  dissensions,  in- 
tensified by  religious  hatred.  The  Greeks  form  here 
the  bulk  of  the  Christian  element,  numbering  as  they 
do  about  18,000,  while  the  Bulgarians,  Servians,  and 
Wallachs  together  barely  amount  to  2,000. 

There  is  also  a  colony  of  Jews  who,  though  few  in 
numbers,  are  sufficiently  fragrant  to  permeate  with 
their  national  aroma  both  the  market-place  during  the 
week,  and  the  public  promenades  on  the  Sabbath. 
The  very  ground  on  which  they  tread  seems  to  exhale 
Judaism.  This  is  the  great  advantage  which  the  Jew 
enjoys  over  common  races.  It  is  a  subtle,  penetrating 
self-advertisement,  which  he  carries  with  him  wherever 
he  goes,  and  which  no  human  nostrils  can  ignore. 
The  Turk  can  only  be  seen,  the  Greek  is  both  seen 
and  heard,  but  the  Jew  appeals  to  one's  sense  of  smell- 
ing as  well.     In  Turkey  this  peculiarity  is  set  down  to 


76  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

the  sesame-oil,  iu  which  the  Hebrews,  owing  to  their 
horror  of  butter,  are  obliged  to  indulge  to  indecent 
excess. 

I  met  one  of  these  odoriferous  gentlemen  at  Mr. 
G.'s  one  day,  and  the  memory  of  the  encounter  lingered 
in  my  nose  for  a  fortnight.  I  felt  strongly  tempted  to 
address  him  in  Coleridge's  words  :  "  Son  of  Abraham  ! 
thou  smellest ;  son  of  Isaac  !  thou  art  offensive  ;  son  of 
Jacob !  thou  stinkest  foully.  See  the  man  in  the 
moon  !  he  is  holding  his  nose  at  thee  ! " 

But  I  forbore.       It  was  only  ten   o'clock    in  the 


CHAPTER  IX 
A  STRUGGLE  FOR  SUPREMACY 

Serees  supplies  a  centre  of  activity  to  all  the  propa- 
gandas which  strive  to  establish  claims  to  Macedonia. 
There  are  Bulgarian,  Servian,  and  Roumanian  missions, 
each  and  all  of  them  intent  on  persuading  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  district  that  they  belong  to  one  or  the 
other  of  these  nationalities.  The  vrork  entails  con- 
siderable expense,  and  it  is  not  always  attended  by  a 
profit  proportionate  to  the  outlay.  The  Roumanians 
in  particular  present  the  dismal  sight  of  a  people 
labouring  for  a  lost  cause,  or  rather  struggling  in  vain 
to  create  a  cause.  Their  field  of  exertion  chiefly  lies 
among  the  Wallachs  of  Djoumaya,  a  town  mentioned 
already,  about  three  and  a  half  hours'  journey  to  the 
north-west  of  Serres. 

The  Wallachs,  like  the  Gipsies,  are  a  race  of 
unknown  affinities,  and  it  is  a  matter  of  wonder  that 
no  one  has  as  yet  thought  to  connect  them  with  the 
two  lost  tribes  of  Israel,  those  standing  ancestors  of  all 
races  in  quest  of  a  pedigree.  With  this  exception, 
few  theories  have  not  at  various  times  been  put  for- 
ward to  account  for  the  origin  of  the  Wallachs.  Some 
consider  them  as  the  descendants  of  old  Roman  colo- 
nists and  legionaries  settled  in  the  province  during  the 
Empire.  Others  claim  them  as  the  sons  of  Roumanian 
shepherds,  who  at  some  unknown  period  of  the  world's 
history  crossed  the  Danube  at  the  tail  of  their  flocks, 


78  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

and  gradually  spread  over  the  Balkan  Peninsula.  This 
is  an  exceedingly  plausible  hypothesis.  It  only  wants 
evidence  to  become  a  debatable  theory.  It  is  the  view 
maintained  by  the  Roumanians  themselves,  and  it  is 
upon  this  hypothetical  kinship  that  the  latter  en- 
deavour to  build  practical  claims  to  the  districts  inhab- 
ited by  the  Wallachs.  A  third  hypothesis,  preferable 
to  either  of  the  above,  both  on  account  of  its  novelty 
and  of  its  disinterested  inconclusiveness,  attributes  to 
the  Wallachs  a  Thracian  origin,  pretty  much  in  the 
style  of  Moliere's  doctor,  who  explained  his  patient's 
sudden  dumbness  as  being  due  to  loss  of  speech. 

To  descend  from  the  ethereal  heights  of  conjecture 
to  more  habitable  regions.  The  majority  of  the 
Wallachs  lead  a  nomad  life  :  some  as  shepherds,  roam- 
ing with  their  flocks  in  search  of  pastures  among  the 
mountains  in  summer,  and  over  the  plains  in  winter ; 
others  as  carriers,  constantly  moving  backwards  and 
forwards  with  long  strings  of  shaggy  packhorses  and 
mules.  There  are  also  considerable  numbers  of  Wal- 
lachs permanently  settled  in  various  towns  and  villages, 
notably  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Berat,  in  Albania ; 
at  Monastir,  Kalkandeld,  Klissoura,  Megharovo,  and 
Niveska  in  Western  Macedonia  ;  at  Vlacholivado  of 
Turkish,  and  Turnavo  of  Greek  Thessaly  ;  at  Metzovo, 
in  Epirus ;  at  Djoumaya,  Nevrokop,  and  other  parts  of 
Eastern  Macedonia.  The  mountainous  districts  to  the 
north  of  Gumendja  and  west  of  the  Vardar  are  like- 
wise studded  with  Wallachian  settlements.  All  these 
Wallachs  speak  a  dialect  closely  akin  to  low  Latin, 
but  largely  mixed  with  Greek,  and  many  of  them  are 
bilingual,  employing  Greek  in  business  transactions 
and  in  writing  generally,  while  on  ordinary  occasions 
they  cling  to  their  homely  vernacular,  pretty  nearly  as 


A  STRUGGLE  FOR  SUPREMACY  79 

many  educated  Scots  cling  to  Gaelic,  although  English 
is  equally  familiar  to  them.  A  curious  and  perhaps 
not  insignificant  fact  is  that  the  Wallachs,  when 
speaking  Greek,  do  not  betray  the  faintest  trace  of  a 
foreign  accent.  Indeed,  it  is  far  easier  to  detect  a 
North  Briton,  when  speaking  the  language  of  the 
South,  than  a  Wallach  speaking  Greek,  which  is  by 
no  means  the  case  with  the  Greek-speaking  Slav. 

With  the  exception  of  their  patois,  everything  else 
about  the  Wallachs — especially  the  civilised  Wallachs 
of  the  towns — is  Hellenic  :  their  manners  and  customs  ; 
their  legends  and  ritual  songs ;  their  commercial  and 
intellectual  life,  and  their  religion  are  all  thoroughly 
Greek,  and  on  all  questions  touching  nationality  they 
are  more  Greek  than  the  Greeks  themselves.  It  is 
over  twenty  years  since  the  Roumanian  propaganda 
began  to  tamper  with  the  Wallachs ;  but,  as  has  been 
stated  already,  without  any  perceptible  success.  Few 
of  the  Wallachs  have  allowed  themselves  to  be  per- 
suaded that  they  are  Roumanians,  and  those,  it  is 
generally  asserted,  have  yielded  to  other  than  purely 
historical  arguments. 

The  vast  majority  of  the  race  still  adheres  firmly  to 
the  Greek  cause,  and  I  have  often  seen  Wallachs,  in 
discussing  the  fortunes  of  the  Hellenic  nation,  such  as 
the  Fall  of  Constantinople  or  the  War  of  Independ- 
ence, work  themselves  into  a  fine  enthusiasm  and  move 
their  hearers,  as  well  as  themselves,  to  tears.  Surely 
this  is  hardly  the  stufi"  of  which  Roumanian  citizens 
can  be  made.  However,  it  is  more  than  doubtful 
whether  the  Roumanians  seriously  contemplate  the 
political  conversion  of  the  Wallachs.  The  geogra- 
phical position  of  Roumania  precludes  the  supposition 
that  she  aspires  to  territorial  expansion  in  Macedonia. 


8o  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

The  only  possible  explanation  of  Roumanian  policy  in 
this  province  is  the  desire  to  establish  claims  which,  on 
the  ever-expected  and  ever-deferred  day  of  the  dis- 
memberment of  Turkey,  she  may  advantageously  barter 
for  acquisitions  nearer  home.  There  are  Roumanian 
populations  in  Transylvania  and  other  districts  of 
Austria,  on  one  hand,  and  of  Russia  on  the  other,  both 
adjoining  the  Roumanian  frontiers. 

The  claim  of  the  Servians  to  this  part  of  Mace- 
donia is  also  a  modern  invention,  which  has  done  much 
to  embitter  their  relations  with  the  Bulgarians.  Truth 
to  tell,  it  is  rarely  possible  to  assign  to  the  Slavs  of 
Macedonia  a  distinct  nationality  with  any  degree  of 
certainty.  Their  language  is  undoubtedly  a  Slavonic 
dialect,  purer  in  the  north,  more  and  more  mixed  with 
Greek  as  it  proceeds  towards  the  south.  Beyond  this 
it  is  hazardous  to  go.  A  Macedonian  Slav  is  equally 
intelligible,  or  unintelligible,  to  the  Servian  and  to  the 
Bulgarian.  In  some  districts  the  resemblance  is  closer 
to  one  idiom ;  in  others,  closer  to  the  other.  But  this 
resemblance  does  not  always  correspond  with  the  vici- 
nity of  the  one  State  or  the  other.  Hence  the  impossi- 
bility of  drawing  hard  and  fast  lines  between  the  rival 
spheres  of  influence.  Indeed,  the  Bulgarians  will  not 
admit  that  there  are  any  Servians,  or  even  Greeks,  in 
Macedonia.  To  judge  by  their  habitual  way  of  talking 
of  that  province  one  would  think  that  Macedonia  is 
neither  more  nor  less  than  an  indisputable  portion  of 
the  principality.  The  Macedonian  peasants  themselves 
— excepting  those  of  the  extreme  south,  whose  Hellenic 
nationality  has  never  been  disputed — can  hardly  be 
said  to  possess  any  national  soul,  or,  for  that  matter, 
any  soul  at  all.  If  they  are  caught  young  by  the 
Bulgarian  propaganda,  and  reared  in  its  schools,  they 


A  STRUGGLE  FOR  SUPREMACY  8i 

are  imbued  with  the  idea  that  they  are  Bulgarians.  If 
the  Servians  are  first  in  the  field,  they  become  Servians. 
The  race  is  to  the  swift  and  to  the  rich. 

In  one  and  the  same  household  one  will  occasion- 
ally find  representatives  of  all  the  branches  of  the 
human  family ;  the  father  claiming  for  himself  a 
Servian  descent,  the  son  swearing  that  nothing  but 
Bulgarian  blood  flows  in  his  veins, while  the  daughters, 
if  they  are  allowed  a  voice  in  the  matter,  will  be  equally 
positive  that  Helen  of  Troy  or  Catherine  of  Russia  or 
the  Aphrodite  of  Melos  was  their  ancestress.  The  old 
mother  is  generally  content  to  embody  her  national 
convictions  in  the  declaration  that  she  is  a  Christian. 
A  true  comedy  of  errors  in  which  no  one  knows  who  is 
who,  but  everybody  instinctively  feels  that  everybody 
is  somebody  else.  Verily  no  country  ever  was  in  such 
sore  need  of  a  herald's  office,  or  of  a  lunatic  asylum,  as 
Macedonia.  It  may  be  described  as  a  region  peopled 
with  new-born  souls  wandering  in  quest  of  a  body,  and 
losing  themselves  in  the  search.  Roumanian,  Servian, 
and  Bulgarian  agents  are  all  scrambling  for  the  appro- 
priation of  these  erring  spirits,  while  learned  professors 
at  St.  Petersburg  and  Bucharest,  Belgrade  and  Sofia, 
are  busy  manufacturing  genealogical  trees  and  national 
appellations  for  all  and  sundry  of  these  bewildering 
apostles  of  emancipation. 

Servian  activity  in  Macedonia  has  become  more 
conspicuous  since  1896  when,  following  on  the  mur- 
der of  Stambuloff,  the  Bulgarians  attempted  to  push 
their  interests  too  energetically.  The  Macedonian 
Committee  then  tried,  as  it  has  often  done  since,  to 
call  the  attention  of  Europe  to  that  province  by  incit- 
ing the  Turkish  authorities  to  atrocities.  They  failed, 
however,  and  by  their  action  they  only  succeeded  in 


82  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

awakening  the  jealousy  of  the  Servians,  who  made 
capital  of  the  disfavour  into  which  the  Bulgarians  had 
naturally  fallen  with  the  Porte,  and  obtained  the  re- 
cognition of  a  Servian  Consul  at  Serres,  and  the  right 
of  establishing  schools  in  various  parts  of  Macedonia. 
The  normal  animosity  between  Serb  and  Bulgar  has 
recently  been  accentuated  by  the  recognition  of  a 
Servian  Bishop  at  Uskub,  a  district  which  the  Bul- 
garians, rightly  or  wrongly,  regard  as  lying  within 
their  own  sphere  of  influence/ 

But  on  the  whole,  the  Servians  and  the  Bulgarians, 
though  their  interests  often  clash,  find  comparatively 
small  difficulty  in  reconciling  them  to  mutual  advan- 
tage. The  great  and  far-reaching  struggle,  beside 
which  the  Bulgaro-Servian  antagonism  pales  into  a 
petty  family  squabble,  is  the  struggle  between  Slav 
and  Hellene  :  two  forces  not  unequally  matched,  if 
historic  j^'^'^stige  and  intellectual  superiority  are  allowed 
to  counterbalance  the  bulk  of  numbers.  And  historic 
prestige,  it  should  not  be  forgotten,  forms  in  Eastern 
politics  a  far  more  potent  factor  than  the  ordinary 
Western  mind  is  able  to  comprehend.  The  importance 
of  this  factor  is  nowhere  more  apparent  than  in  Mace- 
donia, and,  of  all  parts  of  Macedonia,  especially  in  Serres 
and  the  adjacent  district. 

In  the  town  itself  the  Greek  element  is  by  far  the 
most  powerful,  both  on  account  of  its  overwhelming 
majority  and  its  material  and  mental  superiority.  They 
maintain    a   first-class    Greek    gymnasium    and    other 

*  Though  the  appointment  of  the  prelate  in  question  was  officially 
sanctioned  as  early  as  i8q8,  his  actual  consecration  did  not  take  place 
till  1902,  owing  to  the  bitter  hostility  of  the  Bulgarian  Exarch,  who, 
supported  by  an  angry  public  opinion  in  the  Principality,  threatened  to 
resign  and  to  do  all  manner  of  unpleasant  things.  But  the  Servians, 
thanks  to  the  aid  of  Russia,  finally  prevailed. 


A  STRUGGLE  FOR  SUPREMACY      83 

schools  for  boys  and  girls.  The  efficiency  of  the 
gymnasium  was  brought  home  to  me  in  an  amusing 
manner.  I  found  the  teachers  in  the  habit  of  faceti- 
ously applying  to  one  another  the  sobriquets  of  Bentley 
and  Porson.  I  thereupon  could  do  no  less  than  retail 
to  them  some  of  the  stock  anecdotes  concerning  those 
scholars.  One  could  imagine  the  famous  Cambridge 
dons  smiling  in  their  sleep  of  ages  at  hearing  their 
names  employed  as  household  words  in  the  interior  of 
Macedonia.  It  would  have  done  Porson's  humorous 
heart,  in  particular,  good  to  listen  to  the  Homeric  laugh- 
ter with  which  his  Greek  puns  were  received  by  people 
to  whom  Greek  is  not  a  dead  dictionary-language. 

On  the  thirst  for  knowledge  displayed  by  the  Greeks 
everywhere  many  travellers  have  commented,  the  last 
and  not  least  of  them  being  Sir  Richard  Jebb/  and 
indeed,  it  forms  one  of  the  most  striking  and  most 
hopeful  features  of  their  national  character.  But  at 
Serres  I  met  with  an  illustration  of  this  trait,  which, 
were  it  not  as  well  attested  as  it  is,  I  should  have 
hesitated  to  credit  or  to  repeat.  Opposite  my  host's 
house  there  lived  two  poor  students,  so  poor  that,  in 
order  to  save  the  expense  of  a  lamp,  they  used  to  do 
their  lessons  by  moonlight,  whenever  there  was  a  moon 
generous  enough  for  the  purpose.  Mr.  G.  noticed  this 
circumstance  one  evening  by  accident  and,  moved  to 
pity,  did  his  best  to  illuminate  the  path  of  learning  for 
them. 

Serres  is  also  the  see  of  a  Greek  bishop.  The 
prelate  reigning  at  the  time  of  my  visit  was  spoken  of 
as  an  individual  of  exceptional  ability  and  great  force 
of  character.  The  vigour  with  which  he  protected  the 
interests  of  his  community  against  the  Slavs,  and  the 

1  "  Modern  Greece,"  2nd  ed.,  p.  117. 


84  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

fearlessness  which  he  displayed  in  his  attitude  towards 
the  Turkish  authorities,  commanded  the  respect  and 
admiration  of  his  flock.  It  should  be  borne  in  mind 
that  a  bishop  in  Turkey,  beside  and  beyond  his  purely 
spiritual  jurisdiction,  enjoys  a  considerable  measure  of 
political  power.  His  appointment  is  made  by  the 
Patriarch,  and  sanctioned  by  an  imperial  ^rwan.  As 
the  Patriarch  is  considered  by  the  Porte  the  head  of 
all  the  orthodox  rayalis  in  the  Sultan's  dominion,  so  a 
bishop,  in  a  smaller  way,  is  the  head  of  his  particular 
diocese,  and  represents  it  in  the  local  governor's  council. 
Moreover,  he  exercises  a  pretty  extensive  judicial 
authority.  All  cases  of  marriage,  divorce,  and  inherit- 
ance are  tried  before  the  Episcopal  Court,  and  the 
Christians  in  matters  of  a  civil  nature  need  not  go  to 
the  Turkish  tribunals.  This  jurisdiction  opens  up 
possibilities  for  other  than  spiritual  gain,  which,  when 
added  to  the  perquisites  derived  from  the  ordination  of 
priests,  the  management  of  church  property,  and  the 
performance  of  various  fee-begetting  functions,  makes 
a  bishopric  something  well  worth  having.  This  is 
understood  by  the  people,  who  do  not  usually  grudge 
a  bishop  his  opportunities,  so  long  as  he  preserves 
some  degree  of  moderation  in  exploiting  them. 

The  bishop  in  question,  to  his  diplomatic  ability, 
joined  a  cupidity  only  equalled  by  that  of  a  Turkish 
government  official.  The  poor  man  had  caught  the 
maladie  du  pays — which  is  not  home-sickness — in  a 
very  bad  form.  As  a  proof  of  the  lengths  to  which  he 
would  go,  heedless  of  public  opinion,  in  order  to  secure 
a  pecuniary  advantage,  was  quoted  the  following  fact. 
A  short  time  back  the  lease  of  a  farm  belonging  to 
the  diocese  had  fallen  in,  and  bids  had  been  made 
by  various   would-be  tenants.     After  having  been  in 


A  STRUGGLE  FOR  SUPREMACY      85 

the  market  for  some  months,  to  everybody's  surprise, 
the  farm  was  let  for  a  rent  considerably  lower  than 
the  offers  already  made.  The  surprise  developed  into 
a  different  kind  of  emotion  when  it  was  found  that 
his  holiness  was  a  sleeping  partner  in  the  concern. 

This  and  other  stories  pointing  a  similar  moral 
were  frequently  and  freely  discussed,  and  yet  the 
bishop  was  not  unpopular.  "  In  these  days  of  storm 
and  stress,  we  want  a  strong  captain,  and  when  we 
have  got  such  a  one  we  must  not  be  over-particular 
about  the  price."  That  was  the  general  opinion.  It 
must  be  noted,  however,  that  prelates  of  the  Greek 
Church  are  rarely  loved  of  the  people.  Indeed,  the 
cases  of  a  bishop  living  on  good  terms  with  his  flock 
are  exceptional.  As  a  rule  a  Greek  community  is 
divided  into  two  camps  :  the  bishop's  friends  and  the 
bishop's  foes — the  party  in  office  and  the  opposition — 
and  when,  as  it  not  unfrequently  happens,  the  latter 
get  the  upper  hand,  the  bishop  is  greeted  at  church 
with  the  cry  "  Unworthy  ! "  (ava^io^)  which  is  for  him 
the  signal  to  seek  new  pastures. 

The  explanation  of  the  unpopularity  of  the  higher 
clergy  is  to  be  sought  in  the  fact  that  these  ecclesi- 
astics, who  must  be  celibates,  are  chosen  from  among 
the  monastic  orders,  which  have  never  managed  to  hit 
it  off  with  the  laity.  So  much  so  that  even  money 
received  from  a  monk  is  spent  at  once,  for  it  is  sup- 
posed to  bring  ill-luck  to  the  recipient.  When  a 
bishop  or  a  patriarch  is  deposed,  he  usually  retires  to 
the  monastery  from  which  he  originally  hailed.  Like 
everything  else  in  the  East,  episcophobia  is  a  senti- 
ment of  ancient  growth.  In  Byzantine  times  the 
higher  clergy  were  hated  because  they  discountenanced 
popular  progress.     The  bishops  being  drawn,  as  they 


86  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

were,  from  the  monasteries,  which  owed  their  pros- 
perity to  imperial  munificence,  cultivated  close  and 
cordial  relations  with  the  Court,  and  favoured  its 
efforts  to  extend  the  power  of  the  Palace  over  the 
Church.  After  the  Ottoman  conquest  they  continued 
a  similar  policy,  and  perpetuated  the  causes  of  friction. 
The  Patriarch  was  wont  to  purchase  his  throne  from 
the  Porte,  and  then  to  recoup  himself  by  selling  the 
bishoprics  to  the  highest  bidders.  The  bishops,  in  their 
turn,  recouped  themselves  by  ordaining,  not  the  fittest, 
but  the  most  liberal  of  the  candidates  for  holy  orders, 
and  generally  fleeced  their  flocks  by  illegal  extortion. 

A  marked  and  pleasant  contrast  to  the  ill-feeling 
against  this  hierarchy  of  robbers  is  offered  by  the  ex- 
tremely good  understanding  which  obtains  between 
the  laity  and  the  secular  clergy.  The  latter  are  gene- 
rally married,  and  share  all  the  experiences,  joyful 
and  sorrowful,  that  ordinary  humanity  is  heir  to.  The 
parish  priest,  intellectually  and  socially,  is  often  in- 
ferior to  many  of  his  own  parishioners,  and  yet  he  is 
not  despised  for  his  want  of  rank  or  learning.  The 
office  is  revered  for  its  own  sake,  and  part  of  the 
reverence  due  to  the  cloth  clings  to  the  person  of  the 
wearer.  In  the  country  the  village  priest  may  be  seen 
tilling  his  own  field,  digging  in  his  kitchen-garden, 
and  engaged  in  all  the  other  pursuits  of  an  everyday 
farmer.  He  mixes  with  his  fellow-villagers  on  a  foot- 
ing of  equality  without  lowering  himself  in  their  eyes. 

Broadly  speaking,  a  Greek  pa^as  stands  some- 
where between  the  Roman  priest  and  the  Protestant 
parson.  Without  laying  claim  to  any  supernatural 
and  quasi-divine  position,  he  still  is  regarded  as  some- 
thing more  than  a  layman  in  black.  The  popularity 
of  the    lower,  like    the    unpopularity   of   the    higher, 


A  STRUGGLE  FOR  SUPREMACY      87 

clergy  dates  from  older  times  than  the  Ottoman  con- 
quest, and  it  is  due  to  a  parallel  cause.  The  hundred 
and  fifty  years'  struggle  between  the  palace  and  the 
people,  which  has  often  been  represented  as  a  purely 
religious  controversy  about  the  worship  of  images,  was 
really  of  a  political  character.  It  was  the  policy  of 
the  emperors  to  gather  in  their  own  hands  all  the 
threads  of  administration,  ecclesiastical  as  well  as 
civil,  and  it  was  the  aim  of  the  people  to  resist  all 
such  attempts  at  centralisation.  In  its  efforts  the 
popular  party  was  seconded  by  the  secular  clergy, 
and  the  two  classes  vindicated  in  a  triumphant  manner 
the  independence  of  the  popular  church  in  matters  of 
faith  and  worship.  This  alliance  survived  the  circum- 
stances out  of  which  it  arose,  and  the  feeling  of  mutual 
good-will  not  only  outlasted  the  Byzantine  Empire,  but 
became  stronger  after  its  fall.  During  the  dark  ages 
of  Turkish  oppression,  and  before  the  renascence  of 
the  Greek  nation,  the  parish  priest  filled  the  place  of 
a  national  schoolmaster,  and  whatever  learning  and 
Hellenic  culture  endured  through  that  period  of  nar- 
cotic stupor  is  to  be  ascribed  to  these  poor  pastors. 
This  is  a  service  which  the  Greek  people  can  never 
forget ;  nor  can  it  forget  the  part  which  the  priests 
played  in  the  struggle  for  independence  and  the  time 
of  anxious  anticipation  preceding  it.  Common  suffer- 
ings and  common  achievements  have  drawn  the  bonds, 
which  bind  Greek  laity  and  clergy  together,  in  a 
manner  hardly  paralleled  elsewhere. 


CHAPTER   X 
PREPARATIONS  FOR  DEPARTURE 

My  original  intention  was  to  explore  the  country  south 
of  the  railway  line  before  proceeding  north.  But  I 
was  obliged  to  modify  my  plan.  I  was  told  that  it 
would  be  extremely  difficult  to  travel  north  later  in 
the  year  on  account  of  the  badness  of  the  roads  and 
the  cold,  which  sets  in  early  in  those  mountainous 
parts,  and  was  advised  to  avail  myself  of  the  few 
remaining  weeks  of  summer.  So  after  a  brief  stay 
at  Serres,  spent  in  preparations  and  purchases,  I 
hastened  to  resume  my  wanderings.  My  purchases 
included  a  crimson  fez  and  two  pairs  of  saddle-bags. 
The  former  as  a  talisman  to  ward  off  the  evil  eye  of 
brigands,  who  would  have  certainly  been  moved  to 
activity  by  the  sight  of  a  European  hat ;  the  latter 
as  the  most  convenient  receptacle  for  the  scant  para- 
phernalia of  a  Redacteur  du  X —  de  Salonique :  port- 
manteaux are  out  of  the  question  in  rough  travel. 

The  saddle-bags  were  procured  for  me  by  Mr.  G. ; 
but  as  to  the  fez,  I  insisted  on  buying  it  myself. 

"The  Hebrews  will  cheat  you  if  you  go  alone," 
he  said. 

"  No,  they  won't,"  answered  I,  and  walked  to  the 
bazaar  with  the  quiet  confidence  of  the  inexperienced. 

I  had  not  gone  far  when  a  crowd  of  Jewish  shop- 
keepers assaulted  me,  all  with  one  accord  and  with 
one  voice  placing  their  wares  at  my  disposal.     Socks 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  DEPARTURE     89 

and  scimitars,  penny  whistles  and  slippers,  oranges, 
and  trousers,  and  the  things  worn  beneath,  were  simul- 
taneously offered  for  my  inspection.  With  some  diffi- 
culty I  extricated  myself,  and,  followed  by  the  whole 
tribe  of  Juda,  halted  before  the  premises  of  an  ancient 
patriarch.  The  front  of  his  booth  was  hung  with  strings 
of  fezes  of  all  sizes  and  various  shades  of  redness.  The 
patriarch  instinctively  divined  what  I  wanted.  Before 
I  mentioned  the  word  "fez"  down  came  the  strings. 

"  This  is  the  article  for  your  honour.  Look  how 
bright  it  is.  Surely  the  juice  of  a  pomegranate  is  not 
ruddier  than  this  fez.  Behold  its  shape  ;  it  is  tall  and 
comely  as  a  minaret.  It  is  the  fez  that  all  the  Pashas 
wear.  Our  Moutessarif  ordered  a  dozen  from  me  only 
the  other  day." 

I  availed  myself  of  the  first  pause  to  ask  a  question 
as  to  the  price. 

"  Pay  what  you  like,  Effendim.  I  know  a  gentle- 
man like  you  will  not  rob  a  poor  wretch  like  me." 

"I  will  pay  you  two  metallics  (one  penny  sterling), 
then,"  said  I,  facetiously. 

"  You  are  joking,  Excellency,"  answered  the  Hebrew, 
reproachfully. 

"  What  is  your  price  1 " 

"Well,  from  strangers  I  always  demand  thirty 
piastres  (six  shillings),  but  from  you  I  shall  be  con- 
tent to  accept  twenty-five." 

"  I  will  give  you  five." 

"No,  let  us  say  twenty." 

"You  can  say  twenty.  I  will  say  seven  and  a  half. 
This  is  the  last  word  " — and  I  moved  off  in  the  direc- 
tion of  another  booth  across  the  road. 

The  patriarch  rushed  after  me  and  pulled  me  back 
by  the  sleeve. 


90  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

'*  Say  seventeen  and  a  half,  Excellency,"  he  im- 
plored. 

''No!" 

"Fifteen." 

"No!" 

*•  Thirteen." 

"  Thirteen  is  an  unlucky  figure.  I  will  give  you 
ten." 

'*  Very  well.  You  are  ruining  me,  but  rather  than 
see  you  cheated  by  that  man  over  the  way  I  will  let 
you  have  it  for  twelve  piastres." 

So  I  bought  my  fez  and  then  went  to  another  estab- 
lishment, where  I  had  it  ironed.  Then  I  put  it  on, 
and  strutted  proudly  to  Mr.  G.'s,  feeling  that  even 
Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed  like  me.  On 
the  way  I  met  my  host.  He  eyed  me  critically  for  a 
moment,  and  then  asked  : 

"  How  much  have  you  paid  for  it  ?  " 

"  Twelve  piastres  for  the  fez  and  three  for  the 
tassel — fifteen  piastres  altogether,"  said  I,  expecting 
from  him  an  apology  for  having  disparaged  my  bar- 
gaining capacity.     Instead,  he  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Why,  my  dear  good  fellow,  the  thing  is  not  worth 
more  than  five  piastres,  tassel  and  all.  Did  I  not  tell 
you  what  would  happen  ? " 

In  my  diary  I  entered  the  transaction  as  follows  : — 

"  5  p.  for  fez. 

"  lo  p.  for  experience." 

For  the  sake  of  convenience  I  also  set  my  watch 
a  la  Turque,  as  our  own  method  of  reckoning  time  is 
unknown  in  the  interior.  According  to  the  Turkish 
way,  midday  is  a  movable  feast,  depending  on  the  time 
of  sunrise,  but  sunset  is  always  at  twelve  o'clock. 

Before  leaving  Serres  I  discovered  that  there  was 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  DEPARTURE     91 

a  British  Vice-Consulate  in  the  town,  and  of  course 
thought  it  a  matter  of  politeness,  as  well  as  of  policy, 
to  let  her  Majesty's  representative  know  that  I  was 
going  to  explore  the  district  within  his  jurisdiction,  and 
to  ask  him  for  information. 

The  staff  of  the  British  Vice-Consulate  consisted  of 
an  Albanian  cavass,  who  mounted  guard  at  the  door ; 
a  young  Greek  lady  in  a  pink  blouse,  who  sat  at  one 
window ;  and  an  old  Greek  gentleman  in  a  black 
smoking-cap,  who  sat  at  another.  Between  the  two 
windows  stood  the  lion  and  the  unicorn  in  their 
favourite  attitude  of  rampant  hostility.  At  my 
approach  the  Albanian  cavass  twirled  his  moustache 
— whether  in  deference  or  in  defiance  it  would  be  hard 
to  say.  The  lion  and  the  unicorn  looked  as  if  they 
had  just  left  off  fighting  to  glare  at  me.  I  entered. 
The  young  lady  offered  me  refreshments  ;  the  old  gen- 
tleman offered  me  nothing,  not  even  the  information 
which  I  expected. 

"  I  am  going  on  a  tour  in  the  interior,"  I  com- 
menced, uncomfortably. 

My  words  produced  no  visible  effect  on  the  Vice- 
Consular  countenance, 

"  My  grandfather  is  a  little  deaf,  sir,"  explained  the 
young  lady ;  and  her  pale  cheeks  assumed  for  a  moment 
the  hue  of  her  blouse.  "  You  had  better — better — "  ; 
she  broke  down,  overwhelmed  with  bashfulness. 

" — Shout?"  I  suggested,  encouragingly. 

"  Yes,  please,  sir,"  she  answered  timidly  ;  and  I 
shouted  : — 

"  I  am  going  on  a  tour  in  the  interior !  " 

"  A  tour  in  the  interior !  "  echoed  the  young  lady's 
grandfather,  looking  up  in  senile  wonderment.  "  What 
is  the  use  of  going  on  a  tour  in  the  interior  ?     I  am 


92  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

seventy  years  old,  and  have  never  yet  been  on  a  tour  in 
the  interior.  There  is  nothing  to  be  got  in  the  interior, 
sir.  No  gold  ! "  And  "  he  hooked  the  air  towards 
him  with  all  his  ten  fingers  at  once  "  in  perfect  Dickens 
style. 

We  parted  mutually  mystified.  He  obviously 
thought  me  mad,  and  I,  for  my  part,  thought  that 
the  man  who  made  Grandfather  Smallweed  British 
Consul  must  have  had  some  sense  of  humour  in  him. 


CHAPTER   XI 

DEMIR-HISSAR 

Mr.  G.  fortunately  was  able  to  accompany  me  part  of 
the  way  on  business  of  his  own,  and  so  we  ordered  a 
chariot  to  come  round  for  us  on  the  following  day.  It 
arrived  full  two  hours  before  the  time,  the  charioteer 
protesting  loudly,  with  much  rolling  of  eyes  and  twirl- 
ing of  moustache,  and  with  many  parenthetic  appeals 
to  Allah  and  his  Prophet,  that  it  was  not  a  bit  too 
early.  When  he  realised  the  impossibility  of  convin- 
cing us,  he  promptly  squatted  on  the  door-step,  left  off 
rolling  his  eyes,  but  instead  rolled  a  cigarette  between 
his  finger  and  thumb,  and  waited.  Time  is  no  object 
in  the  East. 

At  the  last  moment  we  were  joined  by  the  versatile 
schoolmaster  of  fiddle  fame.  During  the  past  few  days 
I  had  seen  a  good  deal  of  this  wonderful  individual,  for 
he  was  a  great  favourite  with  the  G.s,  and  the  more  I  saw 
of  him  the  more  deeply  interested  I  grew  in  his  person- 
ality. He  was  a  most  instructive  study  of  a  character 
not  uncommon  in  these  parts.  He  was,  as  I  said  before, 
a  teacher  in  a  village  school,  but  teaching,  I  soon  found, 
was  only  a  relaxation  with  him  :  politics  were  the- 
serious  occupation  of  his  life.  In  that  village,  as  in 
many  others  in  Central  Macedonia,  the  feud  between 
Bulgarians  and  Greeks  raged  fiercely,  and  our  school- 
master had  thrown  himself  into  the  conflict  with  a  zest 
to  be  found  only  in  Greeks  and  Irishmen.     The  result 


94  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

was  that  he  came  to  be  regarded  by  both  parties  in  the 
light  of  au  unmitigated  nuisance,  and  he  was  deposed. 
At  the  time  when  I  made  his  acquaintance  he  was 
bringing  all  the  resources  of  his  fertile  genius  to  bear 
upon  one  object — his  restoration.  He  said  that  he  was 
travelling  on  business,  meaning  thereby  political  busi- 
ness, as  it  afterwards  transpired,  and  that  he  would  be 
glad  of  a  lift ;  so  we  gave  him  a  place  in  our  chariot, 
and  merrily  rode  out  of  town. 

We  found  the  railway  station  crowded  with  invalid 
soldiers  on  their  way  to  Salonica,  and  pitiful  they  were 
to  look  at.  Their  shrunk,  livid  cheeks,  and  deep-set, 
lustreless  eyes  betokened  intense  suffering.  Many  of 
them  were  barefooted,  others  shod  with  peasant  sandals. 
Their  tattered  uniforms — two  -  thirds  of  a  coat  and 
trousers  to  match — bore  eloquent  testimony  to  a  long 
and  weary  service.  And  yet  there  was  not  the  slightest 
indication  of  discontent.  Were  they  called  upon  to 
march  to  battle  on  the  morrow,  they  would  obey  the 
summons  without  a  murmur,  ay,  and  fight  for  their 
God  and  His  representative  on  earth  better  than  many 
a  well-fed  and  well-clad  soldier  of  the  West.  This  is 
the  greatness  of  Islam.  Resignation,  which  in  time  of 
peace  turns  man  into  a  block  of  wood,  makes  a  hero  of 
him  at  the  sound  of  the  trumpet-call  to  battle. 

The  train  was  due  at  8.30 — Turkish  time — and,  by 
the  grace  of  Allah  and  the  engine-driver,  it  arrived  at 
9.20.  We  booked  to  Demir-Hissar,  which  was  to  be 
our  starting-point  north,  and  took  our  seats.  Our 
travelling  companions  were  a  party  of  young  Turkish 
officers  in  print  shirt-sleeves  and  boisterous  spirits. 
They  continually  smoked,  jested,  and  roared  at  each 
other's  stories  of  gallantry,  some  of  which  would  have 
made  a  green  tomato  turn  red  with  shame — so  said 


DEMIR-HISSAR  95 

the  witty  schoolmaster,  and  he  evidently  was  an 
authority  on  tomatoes,  as  on  most  other  subjects. 

One  of  these  merry  blades  was  in  command  of  a 
company  theoretically  engaged  in  the  extermination 
of  brigandage,  which,  nevertheless,  appeared  to  be 
flourishing  in  the  district.  The  name  of  one  chief 
was  especially  mentioned  with  fear,  not  unmixed  with 
admiration  and  envy.  Dontsos  was  said  to  be  at  the 
head  of  a  Bulgarian  band,  which  had  defied  the  autho- 
rities and  terrorised  the  countryside  north  of  Serres 
for  no  less  than  twenty-five  years.  This  success,  how- 
ever, in  justice  to  the  authorities  be  it  said,  was  not 
entirely  due  to  his  own  prowess,  any  more  than  were 
the  profits  of  his  career  exclusively  confined  to  his 
own  pockets.  The  authorities  had  a  full  share  of  both 
the  glory  and  the  gain.  The  only  real  sufi"erers  had 
hitherto  been  the  hapless  peasants,  some  two  hundred 
of  whom  were  said  to  have  perished  at  different  times, 
partly  for  refusing  to  supply  Dontsos  with  provisions, 
and  partly  for  complying  with  his  demands.  The 
peasant  in  this  part  of  Macedonia  stands  between 
Dontsos  and  the  Turkish  devil  : 

Both  are  mighty  ; 

Each  can  torture  if  derided  ; 

Each  claims  worship  undivided. 

The  young  spark  already  mentioned  was  alone  believed 
to  have,  during  his  short  career,  squeezed  over  ^T.300 
from  various  natives  under  the  pretext  that  they  had 
been  aiding  and  abetting  the  brigands. 

At  10.20  we  reached  Demir-Hissar  station,  and 
after  a  lively  argument  we  chartered  one  of  the  three 
quaint  things  on  wheels,  which  stood  outside.  It  was 
a  hearse-like  fabric  drawn  by  three  quadrupeds  abreast, 


g6  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

small  creatures,  probably  related  to  the  equine  genus, 
and  not  burdened  with  more  than  the  minimum  of 
flesh  or  harness.  The  other  two  vehicles,  filled  with 
the  Turkish  officers,  followed  behind.  We  moved  off 
at  a  mournful  pace,  stumbling  against  stones,  jerked 
over  deep  ruts,  and  splashing  through  pools  of  stagnant 
water,  to  the  knell  of  the  rusty  brass  bells  which 
dangled  from  the  horses'  necks. 

Our  way  lay  mostly  through  an  uncultivated  waste, 
broken  by  four  dry  water- courses,  across  the  gravelly 
beds  of  which  we  drove  gingerly.  At  rare  intervals 
we  passed  a  hedge  of  dusty  pomegranates  enclosing  a 
maize-field.  A  high  ridge  of  mountains  behind,  a 
range  of  bare  hills  close  on  the  left,  and  another  far 
away  on  the  right,  embraced  a  valley  which,  but  for  a 
few  Bulgarian  and  Turkish  hamlets  scattered  here  and 
there,  would  have  presented  as  perfect  a  picture  of  the 
Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  as  can  be  found  in  a 
country  not  utterly  devoid  of  a  human  population. 

As  we  drew  near  the  town  a  few  tobacco  planta- 
tions in  blossom  greeted  our  eyes,  but  failed  to 
obliterate  the  general  impression  of  desolation.  For, 
not  far  from  them  there  stood  a  vast  Mohammedan 
cemetery,  its  headstones  lying  about  in  fragments,  its 
straggling  tombs  overgrown  with  weeds,  and  offering 
an  easy  prey  to  numerous  flocks  of  carrion  crows. 
One  of  these  at  the  sound  of  our  wheels  rose  from 
amidst  the  habitations  of  the  dead  like  a  huge  black 
pall — an  ugly  and  revolting  sight  to  us,  but  one  to 
which  the  inhabitants  are  only  too  well  accustomed. 

Two  sheer  rocks  —  one  of  them  capped  by  the 
crumbling  ruins  of  an  obsolete  fortress — with  a  broad, 
rapid  brook  foaming  down  the  middle,  form  a  ravine 
between  the   narrow  flanks   of  which   is  wedged  the 


DEMIR-HISSAR  97 

town  of  Demir-Hissar,  the  "  Iron  Castle,"  so  called 
by  the  Turks  on  account  of  the  difficulty  which  they 
experienced  in  reducing  it  to  submission  five  centuries 
ago.  As  we  entered,  a  tribe  of  mountain  goats,  under 
the  leadership  of  a  long-bearded,  long-horned,  solemn 
old  patriarch,  crossed  our  path  and  saluted  our  nostrils 
with  the  rank,  pungent  odour  to  which  the  word 
hircine  owes  its  particularly  untranslatable  meaning. 

Having  engaged  two  bedrooms  in  the  best  inn 
of  the  town,  we  strolled  into  a  chemist's  shop  next 
door  which  was  kept  by  a  friend  of  the  versatile 
schoolmaster.  The  chemist  was  a  tall  and  fragile 
individual  with  a  long  face,  the  cadaverous  pallor  of 
which  seemed  to  indicate  a  regular  diet  on  the  con- 
tents of  his  own  shop,  and  was  accentuated  by  an 
enormous  pair  of  despondently  drooping  black  mous- 
taches. He  received  us  with  funereal  cordiality 
and  did  the  honours  of  his  establishment  in  the  way 
characteristic  of  the  East,  namely  by  offering  us  cigar- 
ettes and  ordering  coffee.  In  that  shop  I  met  another 
severed  limb  of  the  scholastic  body :  a  second  Greek 
master  on  the  look-out  for  a  post,  which,  however, 
being  an  unambitious  and  unversatile  youth,  with  no 
taste  or  talent  for  a  parliamentary  career,  he  easily 
found  a  few  days  later.  In  the  company  of  these  two 
devotees  of  the  Muses,  who  politely  offered  to  act  as 
my  guides,  I  climbed  the  steep  cliff  on  which  stand 
the  ruins  mentioned  before.  These  consist  of  a  gate- 
way and  one  or  two  stone  walls.  The  ascent  wound 
through  the  narrow  and  filthy  lanes  of  the  Gipsy 
quarter,  but  the  view  from  the  plateau,  when  once 
gained,  was  superb. 

Immediately  below  and  a  little  to  the  left  lay  the 
Turkish   mahallah,   spreading   over   one    side    of  the 

G 


98  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

ravine,  and  forming  by  far  the  larger  portion  of 
the  town.  On  the  opposite  slope  stood  the  Greek 
quarter,  numbering  some  two  hundred  houses — a 
colony  from  Melenik,  to  the  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction 
of  which  it  belongs — with  a  sprinkling  of  Bulgarians, 
"just  enough  to  make  life  worth  living,"  as  one  of 
my  guides  pleasantly  remarked.  Between  the  two 
quarters  rushes  the  brook,  aptly  symbolising  the  gulf 
which  separates  the  Cross  from  the  Crescent,  two 
forces  existing  side  by  side,  and  yet  never  meeting. 
From  this  height  the  stream  could  be  seen  meander- 
ing over  the  valley  until  it  joined  the  Struma,  which 
glittered  like  a  long  silver  thread  at  the  foot  of  the 
distant  blue  mountains  in  the  south.  The  sun  had 
just  sunk  behind  the  western  wall  of  the  valley, 
transforming  the  sky  above  into  a  sheet  of  gold, 
edged  with  pale  green  enamel,  the  glow  whereof  was 
faintly  reflected  upon  the  bosom  of  Lake  Butkovo  at 
the  base  of  the  ridge. 

An  interesting  reminiscence  of  King  Philip  of 
Macedon  still  lingers  on  these  rocks.  On  the  slope  of 
one  of  them  there  are  two  smooth  slabs  to  which  the  in- 
habitants apply  the  quaint  name  of  the  **  The  Princesses' 
Washing-boards,"  narrating  how  in  olden  times  the 
daughters  of  King  Philip  used  to  bleach  their  clothes 
on  those  slabs,  just  as  the  maids  of  Macedonia  do  at 
the  present  day.  A  big  stone  jar,  discovered  among 
the  ruins  of  the  fortress,  goes  by  the  name  of  "  King 
Philip's  Treasury,"  and  to  that  king  are  also  attributed 
by  popular  tradition  the  ruins  of  the  fortress.  When 
one  considers  the  waves  of  barbarism  which  have  swept 
over  the  country  during  the  last  twenty  centuries,  these 
memorials  of  the  great  king's  fame,  slight  and  fabulous 
as  they  are,  have  an  interest  none  the  less  real  because 


DEMIR-HISSAR  99 

it  is  not  antiquarian.  They  show  that  national  con- 
sciousness is  not  dead.  The  glorious  past  still  shines, 
though  with  a  dim  and  fitful  light,  through  the  misery 
of  the  present. 

Darkness  grew  apace,  and  soon  the  lights  of  the 
town  began  to  twinkle  in  the  depths  of  the  ravine. 
A  strong  breeze  from  the  valley  wafted  to  us  the  notes  of 
numberless  frogs  and  crickets,  softened  and  sweetened 
by  distance.  My  two  companions  had  all  this  time 
been  sitting  on  the  corpse  of  a  gun  which  lay  dead 
and  deserted  on  the  very  edge  of  the  plateau.  They 
were  absorbed  in  a  political  discussion  in  which  the 
words  patriarch  and  exarch,  Greek  and  Bulgarian, 
orthodoxy  and  schism  were  frequently  and  emphati- 
cally pronounced.  I  interrupted  the  debate  with  the 
suggestion  that  it  was  perhaps  time  we  should  descend 
to  lower  levels.  They  offered  no  opposition  as  they 
could  continue  the  argument  on  the  way  down,  which 
in  fact  they  did,  ay,  and  long  after  we  reached  the  inn, 
until  they  separated  for  the  night.  Even  then  it  was 
easy  to  see  that  the  subject  was  not  dropped,  but  only 
postponed  to  the  next  meeting.  No  other  evidence  of 
their  Hellenic  origin  was  needed. 

Our  dinner  that  night  consisted  of  some  cutlets, 
which  we  owed  to  Mrs,  G.'s  forethought,  reinforced  by 
what  the  inn  could  offer — a  flat  loaf  of  brown  bread, 
eggs,  cheese,  grapes,  and  vinegar,  which  in  this  district 
is  called  wine.  This  banquet  was  eaten  from  plates  of 
tin  and  with  forks  of  lead,  both  of  which  luxuries  had 
to  be  specially  ordered,  and  ordered  more  than  once. 
For  the  officers  who  had  travelled  with  us  and  stopped 
at  the  same  inn,  being  Turks,  naturally  engrossed  all 
mine  host's  attentions.  I  say  naturally,  for  whether 
he  neglected  us  or  no  he  was  certain  to  get  his  money, 


100  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

and  nothing  but  money  from  us  ;  whereas,  had  he  not 
devoted  himself  heart  and  soul,  kitchen  and  cellar,  to 
his  Turkish  guests,  he  might  have  lost  his  money  or 
got  it  substituted  by  something  that  he  had  not  bar- 
gained for. 

Dinner  over,  we  went  down  to  the  stables  to  hire  a 
horse  for  myself.  Mr.  G.  had  his  own  horse  waiting 
for  him  here,  and  as  for  the  versatile  schoolmaster,  he 
could  not  make  up  his  mind  whether  he  was  going 
with  us  or  staying  behind.  The  ways  of  genius  are 
many  and  uncertain. 

The  usual  practice  is  to  engage  horses  for  the 
journey  only.  The  Keradji,  or  muleteer,  accompanies 
you,  and  at  the  end  of  the  journey  you  pay  him  off. 
My  Keradji  turned  out  to  be  a  very  reasonable  man. 
For  a  sum  corresponding  to  little  over  four  shillings  he 
agreed  to  let  me  have  a  horse  as  far  as  Melenik.  I  was 
to  form  one  of  a  caravan  bound  for  that  town,  and 
*'  personally  conducted  "  by  himself  and  another  mule- 
teer. 

This  business  satisfactorily  arranged,  we  retired  for 
the  night.  I  secured  my  bedroom  door,  placed  my 
revolver  and  note-book  under  my  pillow,  put  the  light 
out  and  myself  into  bed,  fully  resolved  to  go  to  sleep. 
But,  alas  for  the  futility  of  human  resolves  !  Le 
voyageur  propose,  mais  le  KJiandji  dispose.  The 
pallet  on  which  I  lay  was  as  hard  as  the  "  Princesses' 
Washing-boards,"  only  not  quite  so  smooth.  It  consisted 
of  two  planks  resting  on  three  packing-cases,  and  sup- 
porting a  straw  mattress  covered  with  a  coarse  sheet, 
which  among  its  virtues  did  not  count  immaculate 
purity.  But  the  hardness  of  my  couch  would  scarcely 
have  prevented  me,  weary  as  I  was,  from  carrying  out 
my  resolve,  were  it  not  for  the  legions  of  *'  nocturnal 


DEMIR-HISSAR  loi 

enemies  "  of  all  arms  by  which  I  felt  my  body  invaded. 
I  then  realised  for  the  first  time  the  meaning  of  a 
certain  Hindoo  form  of  self-mortification.  Oh  that  I 
were  a  Brahman,  to  send  my  soul  forth  on  a  heavenly 
tour,  leaving  my  senseless  carcass  behind,  a  prey  to  the 
enemy  !  But  it  was  not  to  be.  Resignation  was  my 
only  resource.  Allah's  will  be  done  in  bed  as  it  is  on 
the  battlefield  ! 

In  addition  to  those  insidious  but  inaudible 
enemies,  there  were  noisy  rats  holding  a  race-meet- 
ing inside  the  hollow  wall  close  to  my  ear,  while 
from  the  stables  under  the  window  came  an  incessant 
concert  of  jingling  harness,  neighings  and  brayings, 
punctuated  now  and  again  by  a  thundering  kick 
against  the  wooden  partition.  The  whole  animal 
kingdom  had  evidently  conspired  to  drive  me  to 
despair. 

However,  notwithstanding  the  strenuous  efi'orts 
of  mine  enemies,  fatigue,  my  great  ally,  finally  pre- 
vailed, and  I  sank  into  a  deep,  dreamless  sleep  from 
which  I  was  roused  at  dawn  by  the  shrill  crowings 
of  many  cocks.  I  opened  my  eyes  and  lo !  rosy- 
fingered  morn  was  smiling  at  me  from  over  the 
shoulder  of  yon  blue  mountain. 

It  was  11.40 — Turkish  time.  I  got  up  and  per- 
formed my  matutinal  ablutions  in  a  tin  basin  which, 
after  a  long  and  laborious  exploration,  I  discovered 
in  the  hinterland  of  the  premises. 

"  Dans  la  guerre  comme  dans  la  guerre^^  was  Mr. 
G.'s  cheery  comment,  when,  on  emerging  from  his 
own  room,  he  witnessed  my  primitive  attempt  at  a 
toilet. 

Our  breakfast  was  not  a  very  elaborate  afi'air 
either.     A  glass  of  hot  milk — real  milk,  not  the  spuri- 


102  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

ous  concoction  with  which  the  civilised  world  would 
fain  deceive  itself — formed  the  main  part  of  the  meal, 
followed  by  a  small  cup  of  black  coffee  and  the  in- 
evitable cigarette. 

Having  paid  our  bill,  which  altogether  amounted  to 
some  five  shillings,  and  given  mine  host  a  gratuitous 
lecture  on  the  treatment  of  guests,  we  descended  the 
stairs,  or  rather  ladder,  leading  to  the  street.  Mine  host 
accompanied  us  to  the  door  with  many  apologies : — 

"  They  are  Turks,  sir ;  they  are  Turks,"  he 
whispered,  jerking  his  head  in  the  direction  of  the 
room  in  which  the  officers  still  lay  asleep,  and  there 
was  a  world  of  meaning  in  those  simple  ethnological 
terms. 

We  mounted  our  horses,  which  waited  ready 
saddled  in  the  street,  and  retraced  our  steps  to  the 
station.  In  three-quarters  of  an  hour  we  managed 
to  cover  the  distance  which  had  taken  us  well  over 
an  hour  the  evening  before,  and  found  the  rest  of 
the  caravan  prepared  to  start. 

Here  I  parted  from  Mr.  G.  and  the  versatile  school- 
master, who  were  both  going  to  Petritz,  with  a  promise 
to  meet  them  there  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  and 
I  joined  the  party  bound  for  Melenik. 


CHAPTEE  XII 
CAVALLERIA  RUSTICANA 

And  a  pretty  queer  party  we  were.  Mine  was  the  only 
animal  provided  with  a  riding-saddle,  and  it  seemed 
duly  proud  of  the  distinction.  Not  that,  absolutely 
speaking,  there  was  much  room  for  pride.  Kiding- 
saddle  is  a  misleading  term  for  which  the  poverty  of 
our  language,  when  it  attempts  to  embrace  the  vast 
variety  of  Oriental  life,  is  chiefly  responsible.  What 
the  thing  really  was  cannot  be  expressed  in  a  single 
word.  Perhaps  it  would  be  best  to  describe  it  as  a 
shaggy  skin-covered  seat,  with  high  back-rest  and 
high  front-peak,  and  a  pair  of  coal-scoops  hanging 
from  either  side  by  way  of  a  parody  on  stirrups. 
This  was  my  mount,  a  grotesque  combination  enough, 
viewed  by  itself ;  but  it  was  a  masterpiece  of  art  and 
comfort,  if  compared  with  those  with  which  the  horses 
and  mules  of  the  rest  of  the  caravan  had  to  be  discon- 
tented. These  were  cheap  plebeian  pack-saddles 
originally  constructed  on  the  pattern  of  a  pig-trough, 
but  on  second  thoughts  inverted  into  their  present 
use. 

The  luggage  was  swung  on  the  right  and  left  of 
each  of  these  structures,  the  intervening  space  was 
stuffed  with  cushions — for  your  genuine  Oriental  is 
like  Nature  herself  inasmuch  as  he  abhors  a  vacuum — 
and  over  all  were  spread  blankets  and  things  which 
for  brevity's   sake    we    shall  call   quilts.     My  fellow- 


104  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

sufferers  one  after  another  scaled  the  perilous  eleva- 
tions thus  constructed,  and  settled  in  precarious 
discomfort  thereon.  A  gaunt  old  gentleman  in  brass- 
rimmed  spectacles,  a  week's  growth  of  grey  beard 
on  his  chin,  and  an  inverted  flower-pot — what  is 
commonly  called  a  fez — on  his  head,  bestrode  one 
of  these  giddy  heights.  He  also  was  a  schoolmaster. 
A  second  beast  with  a  big  brass  bell  hanging  from 
its  neck,  carried  his  spouse,  the  Dashala,  or  school- 
mistress, as  she  was  designated  in  courtesy,  though 
her  Greek,  I  fear,  would  not  have  stood  a 
severe  examination.  A  sweet  young  schoolmistress, 
who  was  the  elderly  pair's  offspring,  and  another 
sweet,  albeit  a  trifle  corpulent,  young  lady,  who 
was  the  offspring's  bosom  friend  and  colleague, 
sat  on  two  lofty  piles  of  bedding,  with  their  skirts 
decorously  spread  before  them  and  their  toes  point- 
ing heavenwards,  in  an  attitude  of  devotion,  on 
either  side. 

Their  Keradji,  a  Mohammedan  armed  to  the  teeth, 
rode  a  spare  horse,  while  mine  walked  by  preference, 
visibly  armed  with  nothing  more  formidable  than  a 
stick,  but  within  the  folds  of  his  girdle  concealing  a 
revolver  and  a  knife,  as  I  later  on  ascertained  ;  the  law 
of  the  land  being  that  the  faithful  shall  have  the  means 
of  sending  the  infidel  on  a  long  voyage  at  a  moment's 
notice,  while  the  latter  shall  have  no  voice  in  the 
matter.  The  infidel,  however,  generally  tries,  and 
sometimes  manages,  to  place  things  on  a  more  logical 
basis.  Meanwhile  a  frisky  mule,  loaded  with  empty 
wine-casks,  set  the  young  ladies  shrieking  on  their 
tottering  pyramids  by  impudently  rushing  between 
them  and  threatening  to  destroy  their  equilibrium 
with   its   clattering   casks.    My   Keradji  ran    to    the 


CAVALLERIA  RUSTICANA  105 

rescue,  and  by  an  adroit  and  unsparing  use  of  his 
stick — the  mule  was  not  his — saved  the  situation. 

By  this  time  the  procession  was  fairly  under  way. 
Soon  Panaghiotis,  my  Keradji,  an  intelligent-looking 
young  fellow  with  a  bronzed  face  and  smile-loving 
lips,  lifted  his  voice  in  an  earnest,  if  not  altogether 
successful,  effort  at  melody,  His  Mohammedan  con- 
frere, considering  the  attempt  as  a  challenge,  forthwith 
struck  up  a  Turkish  love-song  on  his  own  account. 
The  effect  of  this  bi-lingual  musical  contest  was  not 
very  agreeable  to  the  audience,  but  it  seemed  to  afford 
a  great  deal  of  pleasure  to  the  performers  themselves, 
and  they  continued  it  by  fits  and  starts  all  the  way, 
encouraged  no  doubt  by  the  young  ladies'  ironical 
applause.  So  far  as  my  unmusical  ear  could  judge, 
the  victory  remained  with  the  Turk — a  fact  which  even 
Panaghiotis  was  obliged  to  acknowledge.  But  he 
bore  his  defeat  with  great  good-humour,  observing 
casually  that  '*  the  organ " — thereby  indicating  his 
throat  —  "did  not  assist  him";  and  backing  this 
apology  with  a  confirmatory  cough. 

Long  before  we  reached  our  goal,  Panaghiotis  and 
I  were  great  friends.  A  cigarette  politely  offered  by 
me  and  shyly  accepted  by  him,  and  a  sympathetic 
remark  about  his  "organ"  were  the  first  links  in  the 
chain  of  our  friendship,  which,  as  we  went  on,  de- 
veloped at  the  rate  of  three  miles  an  hour,  that  being 
our  average  speed  of  locomotion.  He  gave  me  a  long 
and  minute — let  us  also  hope  authentic — account  of 
his  life,  from  the  moment  of  his  birth  to  modern  times. 

As  is  generally  the  case  with  histories,  the  begin- 
ning of  Panaghiotis's  earthly  career  was  enveloped  in 
some  mystery.  He  did  not  remember  his  father,  who 
died  when  Panaghiotis  was  a  tiny  little  mite ;  but  he 


io6  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

cherished  an  affectionate,  if  somewhat  hazy,  recollec- 
tion of  his  mother,  who  departed  this  life  when  he 
had  already  attained  the  mature  age  of  six.  Left  an 
orphan,  he  was  reared  by  kind  relations,  who  sent 
him  to  school  for  a  couple  of  years,  and  then  put 
him  out  to  service  to  an  innkeeper.  This  event  was 
the  great  era  from  which  Panaghiotis  dated  his  sub- 
sequent existence.  Little  by  little — "  bean  by  bean," 
as  he  graphically  expressed  it — he  worked  his  way  up 
to  his  present  station  of  owner  of  two  horses,  and  a 
donkey  just  now  laid  up  at  home  with  a  bad  leg. 

Yet,  though  contented,  he  was  not  happy  in  his 
lot.  He  had  an  idea  that  muleteering  was  not  the 
vocation  for  which  he  was  meant  by  nature,  though 
"  what  can  man  do  ?  The  Fates  willed  it  otherwise  at 
my  birth."  His  brief  scholastic  career  seemed  to  have 
left  an  indelible  impression  on  Panaghiotis's  susceptible 
mind.  Perhaps  it  was  not  long  enough  to  leave  any 
indelible  impressions  on  his  body.  At  any  rate,  Pana- 
ghiotis carried  away  from  school  a  lasting  regard  for 
learning.  In  tones  sad,  but  in  boldly  figurative  terms, 
he  likened  himself  in  his  ignorance  to  "a  man  bereft 
of  eyesight "  ;  and  he  told  me  that  a  short  time  back, 
when  he  was  at  Serres,  he  availed  himself  of  the 
opportunity  to  attend  the  public  examination  at  the 
Gymnasium. 

"  Ah,  what  a  thing  knowledge  is,  sir ! "  he  ex- 
claimed, and  his  bronzed  features  were  for  a  moment 
lighted  up  with  a  beautiful  enthusiasm.  "  How  I 
envied  those  lads,  some  of  them  no  bigger  than  this 
stick,  and  they  read  old  Greek  faster  than  I  can  puff 
out  smoke  ! "  Whereupon,  seeing  that  he  had  finished 
his  first  cigarette,  I  offered  him  another,  and  thereby 
won  his  eternal  gratitude. 


CAVALLERIA  RUSTIC  AN  A  107 

It  was  interesting  to  watch  the  growth  of  our 
intimacy.  Panaghiotis  differed  widely  from  the  mule- 
teers it  was  my  fortune  to  fall  in  with  later  on.  He 
was  rather  reserved  at  first,  and  so  far  from  pushing 
himself  into  notice,  he  waited  for  me  to  make  the  first 
advances.  But  as  soon  as  he  found  out  that  I  was  not 
in  any  way  connected  with  the  Government,  his  heart 
opened  unto  me  like  a  thirty-petalled  rose  in  May. 
Before  starting  I  had  asked  him  if  the  road  was  good, 
and  this  led  to  a  lively  little  game  of  "  cross  questions 
and  crooked  answers." 

"  Can  it  be  anything  but  good,  seeing  that  it  is  the 
King's  road  ?  "  he  replied,  guardedly. 

"  Are  you  fond  of  his  Majesty  ? " 

"Who  can  help  being  fond  of  such  a  sovereign?" 

There  was  a  peculiar  stress  on  the  ambiguous  word 
"  such,"  and  the  searching  look  which  accompanied  it 
supplied  the  necessary  commentary.  I  showed  by  a 
smile  that  I  understood,  and  Panaghiotis  grinned  back 
his  appreciation  of  my  sagacity. 

"And  how  many  hours  will  it  take  us  to  get  to 
Melenik?" 

"  Six,  seven,  or  eight,  as  it  may  chance.  It  all 
depends  on  the  state  of  the  road,  and,"  sinking  his 
voice  to  a  whisper,  "  on  the  brigands," — and  he  laughed 
merrily  at  the  sight  of  the  effect  of  his  words  on  me. 
I  discreetly  changed  the  subject. 

"Is  it  possible  to  get  good  meat  at  Melenik  ?" 

"  Oh  yes.  You  can  have  fresh  meat  every  day  ! 
They  slaughter  for  the  troops." 

And  having  by  now  got  completely  rid  of  his 
suspiciousness  and  his  shyness,  he  proceeded  to  inform 
me  that  after  the  last  Greek  war  the  garrison  had  been 
reinforced,    and    that   the    troops   were    quartered   in 


io8  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

the  old  barracks  built  "  with  Christian  blood  and 
Christian  sweat "  —  the  meaning  of  this  confiden- 
tial and  somewhat  sanguinary  remark  being  that  the 
barracks  in  question  had  been  built  by  forced  labour. 
Emboldened  by  my  sympathetic  attitude,  he  then 
launched  forth  into  a  philippic  against  the  tyrant. 

"  Ah ! "  he  concluded  with  a  deep-drawn  sigh. 
"  Who  knows  ?  there  may  come  a  day  when  these  bar- 
racks will  shelter  those  who  built  them  ! "  This  is  the 
hope  that  keeps  despair  alive  in  the  breasts  of  Panaghiotis 
and  all  his  compatriots.  The  least,  and  alas  !  the  most, 
a  stranger  can  do  is  to  breathe  a  sympathetic  *'  Amen  ! " 

Meanwhile  we  struggled  on  at  a  foot-pace  up  the 
eastern  bank  of  the  broad  muddy  stream,  called  Stry- 
mon  by  the  ancients,  and  now  known  as  Struma,  or 
Kara-soo.  The  latter  word  means  Black-water  and 
is  the  name  given  by  the  Turks  to  all  rivers  with  in- 
discriminating  impartiality.  The  mule  track,  rugged 
and  broken,  was  flanked  on  the  right  by  a  ridge  of 
steep  rocks,  round  the  stately  crests  of  which  circled 
rooks  and  crows  cawing  hoarsely,  while  from  the 
crevices  on  the  sides  issued  the  melancholy  cooing 
of  the  rock-dove. 

One  hour  after  our  departure  from  Demir-Hissar 
station  we  halted  at  the  foot  of  the  highest  of  these 
rocks,  where  a  limpid  spring  gushes  forth  from  among 
the  stones  into  a  roadside  trough  made  of  one  log  of 
wood.  We  watered  our  horses  at  it,  and  while  the 
animals  imbibed  the  cool  spring-water,  Panaghiotis,  the 
well-informed,  pointed  out  to  me  with  his  stick  some 
hollows  in  the  rocks,  explaining  that  those  were  the 
imprints  of  the  hoofs  and  head  of  Ma7'kokhalis's  horse. 
In  compliance  with  my  earnest  request  for  more  light, 
he  favoured  me  with  a  legend  which,  as  a  true  legend 


CAVALLERIA  RLTSTICANA  109 

should,  clearly  accounts  for  the  origin  of  the  spring, 
and  also  serves  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  a  great 
popular  hero. 

"  Markokhalis,"  began  the  raconteur,  clapping  his 
hands  one  over  the  other  upon  the  top  of  his  stick  and 
leaning  slightly  forward,  "  was  a  hero  who  lived  in  the 
days  of  old  when  God  was  wont  to  grant  superhuman 
strength  to  men  like  Alexander,  Herakles,  and  others. 
This  Markokhalis,  though  not  a  Greek,  was  almost  as 
brave  as  any  of  them,  and,  moreover,  he  owned  the 
most  marvellous  steed  in  the  wide  world.  Once,  when 
pursued  by  the  Turks,  he  leapt  with  his  steed  from  the 
opposite  bank  across  the  river  " — the  opposite  bank  at 
this  point  rises  to  a  height  of  some  300  feet,  and  the 
river  probably  is  over  400  feet  broad — "  and  landed 
upon  this  rock,  where  you  can  still  see  the  marks,  and 
such  was  the  shock  that  the  rock  split  where  the 
horse's  hoof  struck  it,  and  gave  birth  to  this  spring,  at 
which  your  own  steed  has  just  refreshed  himself. 
Hence  this  spot  is  called  Markova  Scala,  or  Marko's 
landing-place." 

This  is  Panaghiotis's  account  word  for  word,  and, 
notwithstanding  sundry  poetical  anachronisms,  and  the 
mythical  colouring  of  the  details,  it  contains,  as  many 
myths  do,  a  kernel  of  historic  truth.  The  hero  whose 
name  Panaghiotis  hellenised  into  Markokhalis  can 
easily  be  recognised  as  Marko  Kralyevich,  the  Servian 
warrior,  whose  achievements,  as  well  as  those  of  his 
wonderful  steed  Sharats,  form  the  subject  of  many  a 
Servian  folk-ballad.  He  flourished  in  the  fourteenth 
century  and  played  a  considerable — though  exaggerated 
by  tradition — part  in  the  last  death-struggle  of  the 
Servians  with  the  advancing  hosts  of  Islam. 

Behind  these  rocks,  but  not  visible  from  the  bridle- 


no  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

path,  lie  two  Slavonic  villages,  Radova  and  Pouliova, 
and  the  whole  district  on  both  sides  of  the  river  is 
peopled  by  a  Slavonic  -  speaking  peasantry,  poor,  yet 
industrious,  with  sullen  faces  reflecting  in  their  stolid 
rigidity  the  shadow  of  long  years  of  slavery,  and  easily 
distinguishable  from  the  mobile  features  of  my  Greek 
friend,  philosopher,  and  muleteer,  and  of  his  com- 
patriots of  Demir-Hissar  and  Melenik. 

As  a  general  rule  through  great  part  of  Central 
Macedonia  one  finds  the  Slav  language  predominating 
in  the  open  country,  while  the  Greek  holds  sway  in 
the  towns.  But  language  is  not  an  unerring  guide  to 
the  explorer  of  nationalities,  as  there  are  large  numbers 
of  Bulgarian-speaking  peasants  who  yet  regard  them- 
selves as  Greeks  by  descent,  explaining  that  their 
speech  is  due  to  their  contact  with  their  Bulgarian 
neighbours  :  "  They  would  not  learn  our  language,  so 
we  had  to  learn  theirs." 

But  the  various  races  are  so  hopelessly  entangled 
and  intermingled  in  these  midland  districts,  that  it 
would  not  be  safe  or  scientific  to  draw  any  positive 
deductions  from  appearances.  After  making  due 
allowance  for  the  explanation  quoted  above,  we  can 
only  remark  in  general  terms  that  the  tiller  of  the  soil, 
as  often  as  not,  is  a  peasant  who,  though  he  may  call 
himself  Greek,  or  Bulgarian,  or  Servian,  according  as 
sentiment  or  perchance  interest,  or  the  state  of  the 
political  barometer,  may  prompt  him,  bears  in  his 
countenance  the  impress  of  a  non  -  Hellenic  origin. 
The  farther  north  one  moves,  the  more  pronounced 
these  characteristics  become. 

Soon  after  we  left  Markova  Scala  we  came  in  sight 
of  the  sail,  or  ferry-boat,  a  clumsy  raft  worked  by 
means  of  a  rope  stretched  from  bank  to  bank,  and 


CAVALLERIA  RUSTICANA 


1 1 1 


supported  by  posts  driven  into  the  bed  of  the  river. 
This  is  the  highway  of  communication  with  the  oppo- 
site side — not  a  very  easy  or  safe  road  in  winter,  when 
the  Struma  swells  and  rushes  with  a  fury  of  which  its 
present  current  gave  but  a  faint  idea  ;  but  winter  or 
summer,  it  constitutes  the  only  means  of  crossing  the 
river  at  this  point,  except  swimming.  As  we  passed, 
we  saw  the  primitive  conveyance  with  a  freight  of  men 
and  beasts  all  huddled  together  at  its  bottom,  struggling 
unsteadily  across  the  dark  waters. 

Two  more  hours  of  slow  progress,  enlivened  by 
gossip  about  brigands  and  snatches  of  bucolic  melody, 
brought  us  to  the  bank  of  the  Bistritza,  a  tributary  of 
the  Struma,  which,  though  it  does  not  figure  on  some 
maps,  is  a  river  of  considerable  volume  and  fairly  strong 
current,  as  we  found  in  fording  it.  For  this  purpose 
the  ladies  were  placed  in  the  middle,  a  Keradji  on 
either  side,  while  the  others  rode  across  in  single  file, 
horse's  nostrils  breathing  upon  horse's  tail.  The  water 
reached  well  over  my  stirrups,  but  it  could  not  attain 
to  the  ethereal  peaks  upon  which  my  companions  were 
perched  ;  yet  the  dread  of  a  watery  grave  was  upon 
the  old  Daskala's  brain.  She  completely  lost  her 
sang-froid  and  all  sense  of  dignity  or  proportion,  and 
in  shrill  accents  assured  us  that  her  last  moment  had 
arrived.  She  would  never,  never  reach  the  opposite 
bank  alive.  The  Keradjis,  I  grieve  to  state,  laughed 
most  unfeelingly  at  her,  and  even  her  horse,  otherwise 
a  very  steady  and  well-behaved  gentleman  of  mature 
years,  so  far  forgot  his  manners  as  to  shake  his  bell 
with  additional  vigour  in  expression  of  unseemly 
glee. 

Fording  is  the  usual  method  of  crossing  minor 
rivers  in  Macedonia.     Bridges,  even  where  they  once 


112  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

existed,  have  long  since  been  swept  off  the  face  of  the 
waters,  leaving  only  vague  memories  behind  them. 
This  was  the  case  here.  Panaghiotis  was  positive  that 
he  had  heard  old  muleteers  declare  that  there  was  such 
a  thing  within  their  remembrance,  but  he  would  not 
swear  to  the  fact  from  personal  experience.  "  Many 
thinsrs  existed  in  the  olden  times  which  exist  no 
longer,"  he  said  evasively,  using  exactly  the  same  words 
in  which  another  Macedonian  had  expressed  to  me  his 
reason  for  believing  in  the  historic  reality  of  dragons 
and  other  denizens  of  fairyland. 

We  had  scarcely  left  this  river  before  we  came  to 
another,  but  lesser  stream,  and  had  to  go  through  the 
same  performance  with  the  same  accompaniments  of 
hysteric  lamentations  and  ungallant  laughter.  A  few 
more  minutes'  ride  brought  us  to  Koula,  a  private 
estate,  where  we  dismounted  for  lunch. 

The  estate,  though  far  from  being  in  a  flourishing 
condition,  looked  almost  a  paradise  in  our  eyes,  accus- 
tomed as  they  were  to  the  dreariness  and  loneliness  of 
the  road.  A  square  courtyard,  formed  by  the  labourers' 
cottages  and  some  barns,  with  a  bigger  house  in  the 
middle  of  one  side,  and  a  few  cattle-sheds,  represented 
all  that  there  was  to  be  seen  in  the  way  of  building. 
The  big  house  was  untenanted,  as  large  landowners 
hardly  ever  reside  on  their  estates  ;  it  is  not  safe.  The 
most  adventurous  of  them  will  sometimes  run  down  for 
a  couple  of  days'  shooting,  but  that  has  to  be  done  in 
all  secrecy,  no  one  knowing  the  date  of  their  arrival  or 
departure.  This  accounts  for  the  wretched  look  of 
discomfort  and  dilapidation  which  is  the  common 
feature  of  all  Turkish  tchiftliks. 

A  rough  kind  of  kiosk  on  the  roof  of  a  granary 
afforded  us  shelter  from  the  vertical  rays  of  the  midday 


CAVALLERIA  RUSTICANA  113 

sun,  and  in  it  we  had  a  frugal  vegetarian  meal.  We 
were  in  the  act  of  discussing  a  melon  when  a  peasant 
rushed  up  the  ladder  and  urged  us  to  hurry  off,  as 
there  were  rumours  of  Dontsos's  band  lurking  in  the 
neighbourhood.  That  these  rumours  were  not  un- 
founded was  proved  by  the  fact  that,  as  I  subsequently 
learnt,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  our  departure,  a  band 
appeared  on  the  estate  for  provisions.  This  was  the 
nearest  approach  to  a  rencontre  with  brigands  I  had  in 
my  tour.  On  the  whole,  I  enjoyed  the  protection  of 
the  fortune  that  favours  the  foolhardy. 

The  kiosk  which  sheltered  us  was  an  object  of 
historic  interest  in  the  country.  It  was  in  this  place, 
as  my  companions  informed  me,  that  M.  Zlatkos,  the 
unfortunate  Austrian  Vice-Consul,  of  whose  tragic  end 
I  had  read  in  the  English  papers  at  the  time,  had  been 
captured  some  three  years  before.  I  also  gathered — 
what  had  not  appeared  in  the  newspapers — that  the 
opinion  prevailing  in  the  country-side  was  that  he  had 
not  been  shot  by  the  brigands,  as  it  was  officially  given 
out,  but  by  the  gendarmerie  who  had  been  sent  to  his 
"  rescue." 

The  story  of  the  Vice-Consul's  mishap  is  a  typical 
one.  He  had  been  carried  off  by  a  band  and  was  held 
to  ransom.  The  usual  procedure  in  such  cases  is  for 
the  brigands  to  write  to  their  prisoner's  friends  and 
demand  a  sum  of  money  for  his  release,  fixing  the 
time  and  place  for  its  payment.  One  or  two  of  them 
are  deputed  to  receive  the  ransom.  On  their  return  to 
the  mountain  den,  the  prisoner  is  released  and  escorted 
part  of  the  way  home.  It  is  understood  that  the 
authorities  will  let  the  messengers  go  away  un- 
molested, and  that  they  will  not  pursue  the  band  in 
the  meantime,  nor  for  some  hours  after  the  release  of 

H 


114  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

the  captive.  Any  breach  of  this  compact  is  sure  to  be 
attended  by  the  prisoner's  death. 

On  this  occasion,  according  to  the  story  current 
among  the  peasantry,  ever}'thing  had  gone  on  smoothly 
up  to  a  certain  point.  The  envoys  had  received  the  money 
and  joined  their  comrades.  The  prisoner  was  released, 
and  was  climbing  down  the  mountain  alone.  At  that 
moment  the  gendarmes  met  him  on  their  way  to  attack 
the  brigands.  Despite  his  unmistakable  Frank  dress 
and  his  shouts,  they  pretended  to  take  him  for  one  of 
the  miscreants,  and  opened  fire  until  they  saw  him 
drop  dead.  Then  they  took  his  body  to  Serres,  de- 
claring that  he  had  been  treacherously  murdered  by 
the  brigands.  It  was  added  that  the  motif  of  this 
cold-blooded  atrocity  was  to  destroy  the  evidence 
which  the  prisoner  could  have  given  against  the 
authorities,  as  they  Avere  suspected  of  having  acted 
in  collusion  with  the  robbers,  and  shared  the  spoil. 
This  is  the  local  version  of  the  incident,  and  a 
likely  enough  version  it  is  in  the  opinion  of  those 
who  are  familiar  with  Turkish  justice  and  her  little 
eccentricities. 

The  narrative  was  not  of  a  nature  to  encourage 
prolonged  stay  at  Koula.  So  we  despatched  our  lunch 
in  all  haste,  left  the  ill-omened  kiosk,  gave  a  bakshish 
to  the  communicative  peasant,  and  departed.  The  sun 
was  in  the  middle  of  the  sky,  and  the  heat  almost 
intolerable.  There  was  the  midday  hush  on  the  fields 
through  which  we  rode,  deepened  by  the  intermittent 
chirping  of  the  crickets  in  the  bushes. 

About  an  hour  later  we  left  the  main  path,  and 
turning  slightly  to  the  right  began  to  climb  the  up- 
lands behind  which  Melenik  lay  concealed.  The 
ascent  can  only  be  performed  by  a  stony  track  from 


CAVALLERIA  RUSTICANA  115 

18  to  20  inches  wide,  allowing  just  enough  room  for 
one  horse  to  pick  its  way  through.  A  range  of  cliffs 
rose  on  our  left.  On  the  right  there  yawned  ravines 
and  precipices  so  deep  that  one  was  forced  to  keep 
one's  eyes  averted  in  order  to  avoid  giddiness.  It  is  at 
such  moments  that  one  learns  to  admire  the  steadiness 
of  the  Macedonian  horse,  and  I  seize  this  opportunity 
of  withdrawing  anything  that  I  may  have  said,  or 
may  say  in  the  sequel,  to  the  disparagement  of  this 
certainly  unornamental,  but  extremely  useful  work  of 
creation. 

The  old  Daskala  also,  whose  want  of  valour  I 
have  already  made  immortal,  demands  reparation  at 
my  hands.  Whatever  may  have  been  her  feelings 
toward  rivers,  these  abysmal  chasms  had  no  terrors  for 
her.  Familiarity  had  bred  a  sublime  contempt  in  the 
old  lady's  breast,  and,  while  I  was  mentally  composing 
my  last  will  and  testament,  she  regaled  my  ears  with 
anecdotes  about  hair-breadth  escapes  and  dire  catas- 
trophes that  had  beffillen  friends  of  hers  in  this  place. 
She  especially  dwelt  with  great  enjoyment  on  an 
adventure  that  had  nearly  cost  her  fair  offspring's  life 
on  a  previous  trip. 

At  last,  much  to  my  relief,  we  gained  the  brow  of 
the  ridge,  and  thence  descended  into  a  valley  green 
with  cotton  and  sesame  fields,  vineyards,  and  orchards. 
A  village  in  the  distance  attracted  my  attention,  and 
Panaghiotis  said  that  it  was  call  Krommydova,  or 
Onion-field — a  Greek  name  with  a  non-Greek  termina- 
tion— pointing  to  the  principal  product  of  the  district, 
as  well  as  to  the  bewildering  confusion  of  languages 
and  races  reigning  therein. 

A  little  way  off  on  our  left  gleamed  the  waters  of 
the  stream   of  Melenik,  emphatically  called  Potamos, 


ii6  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

or  "  The  River,"  which  also  during  the  summer  does 
duty  as  a  road.  The  last  two  hours  of  our  pilgrimage 
were  spent  in  a  painfully  slow  and  jerky  ride  between 
banks  embroidered  with  vines,  sadly  spoilt  by  hail  and 
disease.  Both  evils  are  regarded  as  signs  of  "  God's 
Wrath"  {opyt]  Qeov),  and  this  conviction  paralyses  all 
efforts  at  preservation.  Fatalism  is  not,  as  it  is  com- 
monly believed,  monopolised  by  the  Mohammedan,  nor 
is  it  necessarily  the  outcome  of  Mohammedan  influence. 
This  particular  form  of  it  goes,  at  the  very  least,  as  far 
back  as  the  age  of  the  Cyclops  : 

'*  It  is  nowise  possible  to  ward  off  disease  sent  by 
mighty  Zeus,"  said  the  pious  cannibals  to  their  brother 
Polyphemus,  who  roared  and  writhed  in  agony — pious 
words,  no  doubt ;  but  of  scant  comfort  to  a  poor  giant 
who  had  just  been  compelled  to  part  with  his  one  and 
only  eye. 

The  modern  peasant's  point  of  view  is  identical 
with  that  of  the  mythical  Cyclops,  and  I  do  not 
think  there  are  many  scholars  who  will  maintain 
that  the  Cyclops  had  come  under  Mohammedan  in- 
fluence ;  at  least  there  is  no  trustworthy  evidence  to 
that  effect. 

The  broad  bed  of  the  river  was  half  dry,  and 
strewn  with  smooth  white  boulders,  between  which 
our  horses  had  to  pick  their  steps  with  the  best  grace 
they  could.  A  number  of  noisy  rivulets — the  im- 
poverished descendants  of  an  opulent  winter-flood — 
intersected  this  bed  in  all  directions,  meeting,  sepa- 
rating, and  chasing  each  other  with  much  merry 
laughter.  We  had  to  wade  through  neither  more  nor 
less  than  eighteen  of  these  truant  streams,  ranging 
from  12  to  15  feet  in  breadth,  before  we  reached  our 
destination. 


CAVALLERIA  RUSTICANA  117 

The  sun  was  bidding  good  night  to  the  valley,  as  we 
entered  Melenik,  after  eight  hours  of  the  most  cheer- 
less road  it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to  travel  on,  and 
through  a  country  which,  for  the  most  part,  looked 
alike  forsaken  of  God  and  man. 


CHAPTEE   XIII 
AKRIVAL   AT   MELENIK 

The  river  at  the  entrance  of  Melenik  splits  itself  into 
two  branches,  which  also  form  the  two  main  thorough- 
fares of  the  town.  The  banks,  which  grow  steeper 
and  steeper  as  one  draws  nearer,  here  shoot  up  to  a 
great  height.  Their  brows  are  furrowed  with  water- 
courses and  their  lower  parts  are  honey-combed  with 
wine-vaults  excavated  in  the  sides  of  the  conglo- 
merate rocks.  The  houses  rush  down  one  steep 
cliff  and  struggle  up  the  other,  their  ample  nodding 
eaves,  hanging  balconies,  and  bulging  fireplaces  rising 
tier  upon  tier  up  to  the  summits  on  each  side.  Some 
crooked  lanes,  mostly  hewn  in  the  shape  of  rough 
staircases,  insinuate  themselves  between  the  houses. 
These  are  the  by-streets  of  the  town. 

Melenik  is  an  ancient  Byzantine  city,  and  it  still 
retains  many  traces  of  its  origin.  The  designations  of 
its  mahallahs,  as  well  as  those  of  its  men  and  women, 
savour  of  dusty  mediaeval  chronicles.  Mourtzos  is  the 
name  of  a  quarter ;  Palaeologos,  the  name  of  a  family. 
Comnena,Theophano,Lascaris,  and  other  names  familiar 
to  the  student  of  Byzantine  history,  are  as  common  as 
our  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry,  and  are  in  such  perfect 
harmony  with  the  entourage  that  they  do  not  even 
provoke  the  feeble  smile  vi^hich  is  forced  on  one's  lips 
by  the  corresponding  use  of  old-world  appellations  in 
Southern  Greece.     Such  an  example  of  unconscious 

xi8 


ARRIVAL  AT  MELENIK  119 

humour  as,  "  Oh,  you  naughty  Klytemnestra,  you  are 
making  poor  Agamemnon  (the  drawing-room  pug) 
squeal,"  is  not  to  be  had  at  Melenik.  Here  the 
antique  is  a  genuine  historic  survival,  not  an  academic 
revival. 

There  is  a  tradition  that  the  first  settlers  of  Melenik 
were  political  exiles  from  Constantinople,  and  some  of 
the  inhabitants  claim  descent  from  those  distinguished 
criminals.  Until  quite  recent  years  there  was  a  very 
marked  line  drawn  between  the  upper  class  of  landed 
nobles  (' AcpevrdSe?)  and  the  lower  orders  of  subjects 
(YTToy^eipLoi'j  —  a  distinction  relics  of  which  can  still  be 
seen  in  the  architecture  of  some  of  the  bigger  houses. 
At  one  of  them  I  was  shown  into  a  large  reception 
room  with  the  floor  raised  in  part  so  as  to  form  a  dais. 
From  this  exalted  elevation  the  nobles  used  on  gala 
days  to  look  down  upon  inferior  mortals. 

There  also  was  in  years  gone  by  a  strong  feeling 
against  intermarriage  between  the  classes.  Time, 
however,  that  arch-reformer  and  sweeper-general  of 
cobwebs,  has  done  much  to  obliterate  all  social  bar- 
riers. As  years  went  by,  especially  after  the  Ottoman 
conquest,  many  of  the  nobles  fell  into  indigence,  while 
others  retained  their  wealth  by  embracing  the  alien 
creed  and  joining  the  ranks  of  the  conqueror.  Mean- 
while, many  of  the  artisans  and  labourers,  who  con- 
stituted the  bulk  of  the  subjects,  rose  to  affluence,  and 
thus  the  work  of  equalisation  was  accomplished.  Yet 
the  shade  of  the  defunct  regime  still  haunts  the  older 
households. 

Many  Melenikiotes  still  boast  of  the  lustre,  real  or 
imaginary,  of  their  ancestry,  though  few,  if  any,  possess 
the  means  of  living  up  to  the  style  befitting  such  pre- 
tensions.    Pride  and  poverty  are  frequently  found  in 


120  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

grotesque  alliance,  and  these  haughty  paupers  of 
Melenik  reminded  me  of  the  Italian  aristocrats  whom 
one  meets  scattered  all  over  the  Levant — men  whose 
ancient  genealogical  trees  are  not  substantial  enough 
to  afford  them  either  shelter  or  fuel ;  men  bearing 
names  which  are  recorded  both  in  Golden  Books  and 
in  the  books  of  bankruptcy  courts ;  men  whose  pedi- 
grees, unlike  those  of  American  millionaires,  are  im- 
measurably longer  than  their  purses. 

The  town  of  Melenik  is  mainly  Greek — an  oasis  of 
Hellenic  language,  culture,  and  tradition  in  the  midst 
of  a  district  occupied  by  a  Slavonic  peasantry  :  honest, 
industrious,  and  sober,  but  withal  dull,  inarticulate, 
and  a  trifle  uninteresting.  The  town  counts  some 
three  thousand  inhabitants,  all  of  whom,  with  the 
exception  of  the  Turkish  Government  officials  and 
their  families,  a  few  Bulgarians  from  the  environs,  and 
one  or  two  of  the  ubiquitous  Jewish  traders,  are 
genuine  Greeks.  Melenik  is  the  see  of  a  Metro- 
politan, whose  jurisdiction  extends  as  far  south  as 
Djoumaya.  It  owns  a  very  good  school  for  boys,  in 
which  nine  teachers  are  employed ;  an  equally  good, 
though  smaller,  school  for  girls,  led  up  the  steep 
sides  of  Parnassus  by  the  two  sweet  mistresses  with 
whom  I  had  had  the  privilege  to  travel ;  and  a  doctor 
with  a  Paris  diploma. 

The  gaunt  gentleman  in  brass-rimmed  spectacles 
on  our  arrival  was  good  enough  to  ask  me  to  his  house 
for  refreshments — "  a  spoonful  of  jam,"  as  he  put  it 
with  truthful  politeness.  So  having  dismounted  at 
the  nearest  Klian,  and  seen  my  saddle-bags  safely 
stored  away,  I  adjusted  my  fez  in  the  approved  fashion 
— a  little  on  one  side  like  the  tower  of  Pisa — and  set 
out  in  the  direction  of  the  schoolmaster's  abode,  very 


ARRIVAL  AT  MELENIK  121 

proud  of  my  appearance,  and  flattering  myself  that  I 
looked  as  imposing  as  a  prince  of  Sultanic  blood.  It 
was  a  delusion  which  was  speedily  dispelled,  but  so 
long  as  it  lasted  it  was  a  source  of  genuine  pleasure, 
and  I  like  to  cherish  the  memory  of  it. 

The  main  street,  or  river-bed — either  name  will  do 
— was  lined  with  rows  of  shops,  shanties,  and  booths 
which  communicated  with  the  level  on  which  I  walked 
by  means  of  step-ladders,  pulled  up  in  time  of  flood. 
The  coffee-shops  were  thronged  with  groups  of  Turks 
in  official,  though  threadbare  uniforms,  and,  as  I 
strode  past  I  had  the  mortification  to  hear  the  observa- 
tion : 

"  Boo  Ingliz — this  is  an  Englishman,"  which  showed 
that  neither  my  crimson  fez  nor  my  sunburnt  face  was 
sufficient  to  preserve  my  incognito. 

This  was  a  deathblow  at  my  delusion,  and  I  felt 
both  hurt  and  humiliated.  I  now  know  what  exposed 
me  :  it  was  my  stride.  Turks  never  stride  :  when  at 
leisure  they  creep  ;  when  pressed  for  time  they  saunter ; 
when  they  think,  or  wish  others  to  think,  that  in 
their  veins  circulates  the  sacred  blood  of  the  Caliph, 
then  they  waddle.  But  they  can  no  more  stride 
than  fly. 

At  last,  after  a  long  and  weary  walk  uphill  and 
downhill  and  sideways  and  across,  I  arrived  at  the 
schoolmaster's  lofty  aerie,  and,  having  stepped  straight 
from  the  street  into  the  second  floor,  I  found  myself  in 
a  large  draughty  hall  with  rooms  on  three  sides  of  it. 
Into  one  of  these  I  was  ushered,  and  having  shaken 
hands  with  the  old  Dashala  as  ceremoniously  as  if  we 
had  not  parted  less  than  ten  minutes  before,  I  subsided 
on  a  low  divan,  which  ran  round  three  sides  of  the 
apartment.     A.  row  of  small  barred  windows  looked 


122  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

out  upon  an  endless  gradation  of  tile-roofs  and 
chimney-pots,  and  afforded  a  glimpse  of  the  thorough- 
fare at  an  immense  depth  below.  A  second  row  of 
even  smaller  windows  overhead  looked  out  upon  no- 
thing at  all.  Their  diamond  panes  were  purely  orna- 
mental. In  the  middle  of  this  wall  yawned  a  capacious 
hearth,  which  jutted  far  into  space  on  the  outside,  but 
from  within  presented  the  prim  and  proper  appearance 
of  a  whited  sepulchre. 

The  hearth  in  this  sequestered  retreat  of  mediaeval 
homeliness  is  still  the  focus  of  family  life.  It  is  round 
the  hearth  that  the  members  of  the  household  cluster 
on  New  Year's  Eve,  eagerly  watching  the  antics 

"  Of  crackling  laurel,  which  fore-sounds 
A  plenteous  harvest  to  your  grounds." 

It  is  upon  the  embers  in  the  hearth  that  the  maids  of 
Melenik  like  to  burn  their  cornel-buds,  and  draw 
nuptial  omens  therefrom.  And,  when  those  dreams 
are  realised,  it  is  the  "  hearth-corner"  that  the  blushing 
bride  pretends  to  pine  for,  as  she  is  led  with  feigned 
reluctance  to  her  new  home.  In  short,  is  there  any 
epoch  of  domestic  history  that  the  hearth  does  not 
recall  and  symbolise  ?  As  I  gazed  into  the  now  vacant 
depths  of  the  Daskala's  hearth,  a  vision  rose  before  my 
mind's  eye  :  a  vision  of  blazing  logs  and  ruddy  faces, 
a  vision  of  a  wrinkled  old  story-teller  and  a  circle  of 
youthful  eyes,  reflecting  the  glow  of  the  fire  and  the 
adventures  of  the  fairy  hero. 

The  opposite  corner  was  consecrated  by  a  niche 
containing  the  holy  icons,  gold-plated  and  smoke- 
begrimed,  the  household  gods  of  the  modern  Hellene, 
before  which  flickered  the  tiny  flame  of  a  lamp  that 
knows  no  extinction.     At  right  angles  to  this  shrine 


ARRIVAL  AT  MELENIK  123 

stretched  a  row  of  panelled  closets  and  cupboards. 
In  one  of  the  former  must  surely  stand  rolled  up  the 
mattresses  which  in  the  evening  are  spread  out :  close 
to  the  fireplace  in  winter;  in  the  breezy  hall  in 
summer.  These  constitute  the  Greek  bed,  movable 
as  the  sleeping  mat  of  the  dweller  in  the  desert. 

From  one  of  the  cupboards  the  sweet  offspring  had 
meanwhile  produced  a  dazzling  array  of  unsubstantial 
refreshments,  which  she  presented  to  me  upon  a  salver 
almost  as  bright  as  the  grands  yeux  noirs  of  the  bearer 
herself.  I  partook  of  these  offerings  of  hospitality  in  the 
orthodox  order :  a  small  spoonful  of  jam,  a  tumblerful 
of  limpid  spring-water  which  made  its  receptacle 
sparkle  with  cold  perspiration,  a  tiny  glassful  of  arrack 
which  looked  like  green  chartreuse,  but,  alas  !  tasted 
differently,  and  a  tiny  cup  of  coffee,  despoiled  of  its 
saucer.  Then  the  old  Daskala,  who  had  been  all  this 
time  smoking  with  the  gravity  and  in  the  attitude  of 
a  Turk  at  prayer,  pushed  the  tobacco-jar  across  the 
divan  to  me.  I  rolled  me  a  fragrant  cigarette,  smoked 
it  to  an  end,  and  after  an  elaborate  interchange 
of  conventional  civilities  retired  to  my  inn  for  the 
night. 

The  bed  of  the  Demir-Hissar  khan  had  hitherto 
dwelt  in  my  mind  as  the  very  bed-rock  of  hardship, 
the  beau-ideal  of  discomfort.  But  I  was  now  to  learn 
that  hardship,  like  folly,  is  not  to  be  fathomed  so 
quickly.  When  you  have  reached  what  in  your  blind- 
ness you  take  to  be  the  bottom,  lo  and  behold  !  your 
foot  slips,  and  you  find  yourself  precipitated  into  new 
depths  and  chasms  undreamt  of. 

The  front  of  the  establishment  was  occupied  by 
a  low-roofed  cafe,  for  which  Nature  herself  had  pro- 
vided  an   imperishable  floor.     A   limited   number   of 


124  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

stools  lay  about  in  easy  and  unstudied  confusion ;  but 
they  formed  only  a  small  proportion  of  the  furniture 
compared  with  the  multitude  of  empty  petroleum 
boxes,  which  were  indifferently  used  as  seats  or 
tables.  At  the  back  of  this  saloon  stood  the  stables. 
Over  the  stables  stood  the  guests'  sleeping-apart- 
ments, and  to  one  of  these  I  was  now  led  by  the 
proprietor,  who  united  in  his  own  person  the  dual 
functions  of  cafedji  and  khandji.  Our  progress  might 
have  suggested  a  scene  to  the  author  of  the  Divina 
Commedia. 

The  innkeeper  lit  a  small  tin  lantern  armed  with 
a  prodigiously  long  wick,  but  no  glass,  and,  bidding 
me  follow  him,  led  the  way  through  a  gruesome  region, 
where  I  heard  muffled  snortings  and  undisguised  bray- 
ings,  and  dimly  saw  many  a  pair  of  stupendous  eyes 
gleaming  with  a  blue  light  in  the  dark.  I  followed 
with  timid  step  at  a  respectful  distance,  lest  the  evil 
smoke  from  the  lantern  should  injure  my  lungs.  Thus 
we  reached  the  base  of  a  steep  and  shaky  ladder,  and 
proceeded  to  mount  the  same.  We  had  well-nigh 
accomplished  the  perilous  ascent,  when,  woe  is  me ! 
my  heel  lost  its  hold  on  the  slippery  rung,  I  lost  my 
balance,  and — the  rest  can  be  described  in  the  words 
of  the  poet : — 

"  While  to  the  lower  space  with  backward  step 
I  fell,  my  ken  discerned  the  form  of  one 
Whose  voice  seemed  faint  through  long  disuse  of  speech. 
When  him  in  that  gloomy  spot  I  espied, 
'  Have  mercy  on  me  ! '  cried  I  out  aloud, 
'  Spirit !  or  living  man  I  whate'er  thou  be ! '" 

In  point  of  fact,  he  was  a  mule. 
Thus  adjured,  he  stared  at  me  for  a  full  second, 
and  then  contemptuously  turned  to  his  manger. 


ARRIVAL  AT  MELENIK  125 

The  khandji  stopped  on  the  landing  above  and, 
holding  the  lantern  over  his  head,  bent  forward,  trying 
to  peer  through  the  nether  darkness. 

"  Oh,  it  must  be  that  accursed  nail,"  he  observed 
in  the  tone  of  a  disinterested  spectator.  "  It  does  not 
matter." 

*'  Oh  dear  no,"  I  answered  feebly,  picking  myself 
up  ;  I  am  only — looking  for  my  watch." 

Fortunately  that  was  the  only  thing  about  me  that 
was  bruised.  The  rest  had  fallen  upon  a  bundle  of 
hay ;  a  providential  dispensation,  which  shows  that 
an  inn  built  on  stable  lines  has  its  advantages. 

Without  further  mishap  I  joined  my  guide.  He 
drew  a  great  key  from  his  girdle  and  opened  the 
door  of  the  room  that  was  to  be  my  lair.  Two  beds 
on  trestles  stood  in  it.  These,  with  a  shelf  running 
along  one  wall  and  a  deal  cupboard  built  across  the 
corner,  a  lamp,  and  two  nails  doing  duty  for  pegs, 
completed  the  inventory. 

The  price  of  the  room  was  on  a  par  with  the  style 
of  the  accommodation.  The  khandji  claimed  two 
piastres  (rather  less  than  5d.)  a  night,  and  I  was 
astonished  at  his  moderation.  My  astonishment  ceased 
when  next  morning  I  found  that  the  usual  charge  was 
one  piastre. 

There  being  no  table  in  the  apartment,  I  had  to 
use  my  bed  for  a  desk  in  jotting  down  the  few  notes 
embodied  in  the  foregoing  description.  But  even  that 
had  to  be  done  with  the  cotton  curtains  drawn  closely 
and  a  cushion  stuffed  into  the  aperture  of  a  broken 
pane,  in  order  to  avoid  draughts  and  diplomatic  com- 
plications. The  consul's  remarks  about  espionage  still 
rang  in  my  ears,  and  every  day  furnished  me  with  fresh 
proof  of  their  soundness. 


126  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

I  had  not  been  more  than  half-an-hour  at  Melenik 
before  I  heard  the  police  commissaries  buzzing  about 
in  search  of  information.  The  arrival  of  a  griffin  or 
of  a  unicorn  could  not  have  created  a  deeper  sensation  ; 
for,  so  far  as  the  oldest  police  commissary  could  recall, 
I  was  the  very  first  Irigliz  who  had  taken  it  into  his 
head  to  penetrate  among  the  rocks  of  Melenik.  But 
policemen  were  not  the  only  individuals  spurred  to 
preternatural  activity  by  the  unusual  event.  Other 
enterprising  souls  had  also  been  stirred  to  their 
depths. 

While  I  was  busy  unpacking  my  bags  that  evening 
the  door  opened  noiselessly,  and  in  glided  the  figure 
of  a  cream-faced  youth,  with  red  hair,  many  marks  of 
smallpox,  two  small  eyes  converging  towards  the  bridge 
of  a  long,  pointed  nose,  and  no  eyelashes  to  speak  of. 
He  grinned  and  bowed  humbly  as  he  entered.  I  stared 
at  him  in  surprise.  Whereat  he  grinned  and  bowed 
more  humbly  still,  and  then  deliberately  seated  himself 
on  the  edge  of  my  bed. 

Ere  I  had  time  to  recover  my  presence  of  mind,  he 
had  begun  cross-examining  me : — 

"  How  are  you  ? "  quoth  he ;  and  his  speech  be- 
trayed him  at  once  for  an  Israelite. 

I  assured  him  that  I  was  in  my  normal  state  of 
health.  Not  satisfied  with  this  assurance,  and  prob- 
ably encouraged  by  my  forbearance,  he  went  on  : — 

"  And  who  are  you  ? " 

I  answered  him  with  a  similar  question,  and  elicited 
the  following  pertinent  reply  : — 

"  My  shop  is  a  few  steps  across  the  road.  My  name 
is  Aaron,  son  of  David,  dealer  in  print  calicoes,  shirts, 
socks,  fian " 

"Well,  Mr.  Aaron,  son  of  David,  dealer  in  print 


ARRIVAL  AT  MELENIK  127 

calicoes,  shirts,  socks,  and  other  things,  I  do  not 
happen  to  be  in  need  of  you  or  your  wares  just  at 
present,  and  should  be  obliged  if  you  would  step  back 
to  your  shop  across  the  road." 

Unabashed  and  undaunted  by  this  rebuff,  the  cream- 
faced  youth  continued  in  the  path  of  impertinent  in- 
terrogation, now  and  again  interrupting  himself  to 
introduce  an  irrelevant  allusion  to  his  print  calicoes, 
shirts,  socks,  &c. 

Then  I  thought  the  time  of  words  was  over,  and 
proceeded  to  action.  Stepping  up  to  the  youth,  I  laid 
a  hand  on  either  of  his  shoulders,  persuaded  him  to 
rotate  once  round  his  own  axis,  and  then  gently,  but 
firmly,  propelled  him  into  the  outer  darkness,  shutting 
the  door  on  his  back.  Aaron,  son  of  David,  never 
troubled  me  again. 

I  would  fain  lock  the  door,  but  to  my  disappoint- 
ment I  found  that  it  was  constructed  on  strictly  uni- 
lateral principles.  In  other  words,  the  key  was  only 
made  to  turn  on  the  outside,  and  nothing  could  induce 
it  to  enter  the  keyhole  from  inside.  So  I  had  to  be 
content  with  such  privacy  as  a  rudimentary  latch, 
assisted  by  the  spare  bed,  could  secure. 

As  soon  as  T  put  out  the  light,  several  bars  of  gold 
shone  forth  across  the  floor  to  intimate  that  nothing 
but  a  thin  layer  of  planks,  with  wide  interstices,  sepa- 
rated my  sleeping  apartment  from  that  of  the  mules, 
horses,  and  donkeys  beneath.  I  heaved  a  sigh  as  I 
recalled  the  inn  at  Demir-Hissar.  There  the  stable 
was  under  my  window ;  here  it  was  under  my  very 
nose. 

Some  Turkish  soldiers  occupied  the  bedroom  facing 
mine,  and  their  long-drawn,  monotonous  chanting 
gradually  lulled  me  to   sleep.     The  last  sound  I  re- 


128  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

member  hearing,  before  I  lapsed  into  unconsciousness, 
was  the  muezziyis  plaintive  call  to  prayers  from  the 
only  minaret  of  the  town  : — 

"There  is  no  God  but  God,  and  Mohammed  His 
Prophet ! " 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A   SUNDAY   AT   MELENIK 

The  day  was  just  breaking  when  I  was  roused  by  the 
exhilarating  blare  of  the  bugle  sounding  the  reveille. 
The  numerous  cocks  of  the  town  seemed  to  take  a 
personal  interest  in  the  signal,  and  responded  to  it 
with  a  vigour  which  made  a  relapse  into  sleep  a 
ludicrous  impossibility.  These  emanations  from  the 
"  lofty  and  shrill-sounding  throat "  rose  above  and 
dominated  lesser  noises,  such  as  the  cackling  of  num- 
berless geese  and  the  quacking  of  regiments  of  ducks. 
My  first  half-waking  thought  was  that  the  earth  had 
turned  during  the  night  into  a  world-wide  poultry 
yard,  with  myself  as  its  master.  My  second,  suggested 
by  the  chimes  of  bells  from  the  forty  odd  churches  of 
Melenik,  was  that  it  was  Sunday. 

I  got  up  and,  having  performed  such  a  toilet  as 
was  possible  under  the  circumstances,  issued  forth 
through  the  stable.  Apart  from  the  deafening  uproar 
produced  by  creatures  most  improperly  called  "  dumb," 
the  town  showed  few  signs  of  wakefulness.  The 
Turkish  horse-shoer  over  the  way  had  not  yet  begun 
his  day-long  metallic  tune  on  the  anvil ;  and  the 
Turkish  cafedji,  who  kept  a  coffee-stall  under  the 
broad  shadow  of  a  hoary  and  gnarled  plane-tree  on 
the  river  bank,  a  few  yards  from  the  door  of  my  hhan, 
was  only  just  igniting  his  brazier  of  charcoal.  But  in 
a  few  minutes  this  began   to   blaze   cheerily  beneath 


130  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

the  lusty  bellowing  of  the  Turk's  lungs,  and  as  soon 
as  the  long-tailed  imhriks  began  to  boil,  I  approached 
him  to  wish  him  Allah's  blessing  on  the  new-born  day, 
and  to  order  a  cup  of  coffee. 

While  I  was  waiting  for  the  beverage  an  urchin, 
with  a  wooden  tray  of  superlative  dimensions  deftly 
balanced  on  his  head,  staggered  past,  and  his  shrill 
pipe  informed  all  whom  it  might  concern  that  his 
sesame-sprinkled  buns  were  warm  from  the  oven. 
This  announcement  concerned  me  at  that  moment 
more  nearly  than  anything  else,  and  for  the  modest 
outlay  of  a  battered  Turkish  copper  piece,  correspond- 
ing in  value  to  a  halfpenny  sterling,  I  became  the 
owner  of  two  rosy  semits  which,  along  with  the 
steaming  kahveh,  supplied  me  with  the  best  break- 
fast, at  the  price,  I  ever  had,  or  am  likely  to  have, 
anywhere  on  this  planet,  except  in  the  interior  of 
Turkey.  There  is  little  money  in  the  Sultan's  em- 
pire, but  that  little,  like  the  famous  music  -  hall 
army,   "goes  a  very  long  way." 

I  was  still  sitting  under  the  plane  when  one  of  the 
gentlemen  to  whom  I  had  brought  letters  of  intro- 
duction came  to  ask  me  to  accompany  him  to  the 
Metropolis,  or  Cathedral.  I  accepted  the  invitation 
with  pleasure,  and  we  went.  The  service  was  long  and 
wearisome,  and  the  chanting  of  the  kind  which  once 
led  a  Greek  wit  to  observe  that,  in  the  opinion  of  his 
countrymen,  the  best  way  to  approach  the  Deity  is 
through  the  nose. 

Apart  from  this  irritating  feature,  the  ceremonies  of 
the  Greek  Church  are  not  wanting  in  grandeur,  and  a 
certain  touch  of  mysticism,  which  one  misses  in  the 
performances  of  the  Roman  Church.  The  vestments  of 
the  clergy  are  more  magnificent,  and  those  who  wear 


A  SUNDAY  AT  MELENIK  131 

them  are  as  a  rule  of  a  more  imposing  appearance. 
The  air  of  awe  and  mystery  is  heightened  by  the  fact 
A  that  the  altar  is  generally  screened  from  the  view  of  the 
profane,  being  only  disclosed  at  rare  intervals  by  the 
automatic  withdrawal  of  a  curtain,  and  still  more  rarely 
by  the  opening  of  the  gilt  "Fair  Gate."  At  those 
moments  the  officiating  priest  appears  standing  on  the 
step  of  the  "  Holy  Table,"  and  towering  over  him  the 
thorn-crowned  head  of  the  Crucified  One,  surrounded 
with  a  halo  of  light  from  an  invisible  window. 

The  Cathedral  itself  was  quite  new,  built  out  of  the 
debris  of  the  old  Metropolitan  Temple,  which  had  been 
burnt  down  on  New  Year's  Eve,  1895.  This  disaster 
had  caused  deep  sorrow  to  the  inhabitants,  and  even  at 
the  time  of  my  visit,  full  five  years  after  the  event,  it 
continued  to  be  the  subject  of  much  comment  and 
self-commiseration.  It  had  involved  the  ruin  both  of 
the  oldest  church  of  the  town  and  of  the  Metropolitan's 
residence,  which  stood  close  by,  as  well  as  the  loss  of 
several  highly-prized  treasures.  Among  these  was  a 
valuable  episcopal  mitre  and  a  stajff  made  of  natural 
crystal  bound  with  gold,  a  gift,  according  to  tradition, 
of  the  Servian  King,  Stephen  Dushan,  or  "the  f 
Strangler,"  under  whose  brilliant  though  brief  reign 
( 1 336-1 356)  the  Servian  race  had  attained  to  a  higher 
degree  of  glory  and  power  than  at  any  other  period 
before  or  since,  and  dominated  for  a  while  the  greater 
part  of  the  Balkan  Peninsula. 

The  origin  of  the  fire  had  never  been  ascertained, 
and  at  the  time  of  my  visit  three  difi'erent  versions 
were  in  vogue.  The  jingoes  of  Melenik  attributed  the 
calamity  to  the  Bulgarians,  the  moderates  to  accident, 
and  the  superstitious  to  the  wrath  of  the  Almighty. 
This  had  been  specially  invoked  by  a  holy  archiman- 


132  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

drite  who  had  tarried  in  the  town  awhile,  and,  depart- 
ing, had  expressed  his  horror  of  the  orgies  of  which 
the  old  Metropolitan  palace  Mas  alleged  to  be  the 
scene,  in  the  form  of  an  anathema  and  a  prophecy 
that,  like  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  of  old,  the  Bishop's 
residence  should  be  consumed  by  fire  from  heaven 
within  four  calendar  months — a  prophecy  which  was 
fulfilled  to  the  letter.  This  theory  found  many  sup- 
porters among  the  Metropolitan's  opponents,  whose 
name  was  legion.  Even  some  of  those  who  placed 
little  faith  in  anathemas  and  prophecies  agreed  in  at- 
tributing the  conflagration  to  His  Holiness's  culpable 
negligence.  Obviously,  the  episcopal  throne  in  Mace- 
donia is  not  altogether  lined  with  roses. 

After  service  we  were  joined  by  the  Paris  physician, 
who,  in  addition  to  his  duties  as  municipal  doctor,  also 
was  one  of  the  Ephors,  or  Managers,  of  the  public 
schools  of  the  community.  He  introduced  me  to  the 
staff  of  teachers,  and  we  all  together  repaired  to  his 
house.  Shortly  after,  I  expressed  the  wish  to  call  on 
the  Kaimakam,  or  Governor,  and  was  conducted  by  my 
numerous  and  self-appointed  cortege  to  the  casino — a 
quaint  combination  of  club  and  cafe — which  appeared 
to  be  his  Excellency's  favourite  and  habitual  abode. 

I  found  the  great  man  sitting  in  the  balcony,  of 
course  drinking  coffee.  Contrary  to  my  expectation, 
and  somewhat  to  my  chagrin,  he  turned  out  to  be 
quite  different  from  the  long-bearded,  turbaned,  rotund, 
and  genial  figure  which  one  associates  with  a  thorough- 
bred Turkish  functionary.  A  physiologist  would  have 
probably  described  Gani  Bey  as  an  intermediate  link 
between  a  man  and  a  Turkish  official.  He  was  an 
attenuated  youth  of  some  thirty  summers,  with  a  clean- 
shaven  chin,    well-groomed    moustache,  a   real   frock 


A  SUNDAY  AT  MELENIK  133 

coat — not  the  clumsy  travesty  of  one  known  as  Stam- 
houli — and  a  hauteur  for  which  that  item  of  civilisation 
obviously  was  in  a  great  measure  responsible.  He 
spoke  French  and  smoked  ready-made  cigarettes,  both 
products  of  domestic  manufacture. 

My  presence  afforded  Gani  Bey  an  opportunity  of 
airing  his  French,  and  he  was  accordingly  grateful  and 
gracious.  He  informed  me  in  that  language  that  he 
belonged  to  a  Salonica  family  ;  that  he  had  imbibed 
the  nectar  of  Western  culture  in  Stamboul ;  that 
Melenik,  alas !  was  like  neither  of  those  great  centres 
of  gaiety,  and  he  heaved  a  sigh  at  the  recollection  of 
the  imaginary  amusements  which  he  had  sacrificed  on 
accepting  a  post  in  this  dull  place  of  banishment. 

"  Mais,  avant  tout,  le  devoir^  monsieur,"  he  mur- 
mured, with  the  air  of  a  martyr,  and  I  wondered 
whether  he  meant  that  the  whole  devoir  of  a  Turkish 
Governor  consists  in  drinking  coffee — and  other  things 
— in  the  balcony  of  a  casino.  However,  I  discreetly 
forbore  to  demand  an  elucidation. 

We  then  spoke  of  the  Paris  Exhibition,  and  Gani 
Bey  was  greatly  pleased  to  hear  that  I  considered  the 
Turkish  pavilion  the  most  extraordinary  piece  of  archi- 
tecture I  had  ever  seen  anywhere.  This  brought  the 
interview  to  a  close,  and  I  salaamed  myself  out  of 
the  Kaimakams  presence  with  a  promise  to  call 
again  and  give  his  Excellency  further  details  about 
the  pavilion. 

My  suite  then  insisted  on  conducting  me  round  to 
the  houses  of  the  most  notable  citizens.  Thus  I  found 
myself  compelled  to  spend  the  whole  forenoon  eating 
jam,  drinking  coffee  and  arrack,  and  smoking  endless 
cigarettes.  But  this  triumphal  progress,  though  some- 
what irksome,  and,  from  a  medical  point  of  view,  rather 


134  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

indiscreet,  was  not  altogether  void  of  interest.  It 
enabled  me  to  see  the  Melenikiote  at  home  and  at 
his  best,  free  from  the  worries  of  week-day  life,  each 
arrayed  in  their  holiday  apparel,  and  anxious  to  please 
and  to  be  pleased. 

Wherever  I  went  I  met  with  a  cordial  welcome,  and 
was  most  favourably  impressed  both  by  the  cleanliness 
and  order  prevailing  in  each  house,  and  by  the  simple, 
yet  dignified  manners  of  the  people.  During  those 
brief  visits  there  was  not  much  time  for  an  interchange 
of  philosophical  ideas,  and  our  conversation  necessarily 
turned,  if  not  on  the  weather  —  southerners  blessed 
with  uniform  skies  and  a  keen  sense  of  proportion 
seldom  indulge  in  that  inane  topic — at  least  on  the 
picturesque  situation  of  the  town  and  the  healthiness 
of  the  climate,  two  advantages  of  which  the  Melenik- 
iotes  are  justly  proud. 

I  ventured  to  breathe  my  astonishment  that  so 
inconvenient  a  spot  should  have  been  chosen  for  the 
site  of  a  town,  alluding  to  the  dangers  from  wintry 
floods.  For,  according  to  their  own  account,  elo- 
quently corroborated  by  the  huge  boulders  I  stumbled 
against  as  I  walked  in  the  street,  when  the  snows  be- 
gin to  thaw  on  the  surrounding  heights,  the  insignifi- 
cant-looking Potamos  swells  into  an  angry  torrent, 
which  rolls  down  the  mountain-side  with  a  roar  heard 
miles  away,  carrying  on  its  foamy  bosom  rocks  fatal 
alike  to  life  and  property.  I  was  told,  however,  that 
what  are  now  water  channels  were  once  hond-Jide 
streets,  but  that  the  river  gradually  changed  its  course 
owing  to  the  destruction  of  the  forests  on  the  moun- 
tains. Old  men  and  women  still  remembered  the  time 
when  step-ladders  were  unnecessary,  as  the  shops  stood 
on  the  level  of  the  street. 


A  SUNDAY  AT  MELENIK  135 

Of  the  Melenikiote  ladies  I  carried  away  most 
pleasant  memories.  Not  only  on  account  of  their 
beauty,  although  that  was  remarkable  enough  :  pale, 
refined  faces  ;  great  chestnut  eyes  overshadowed  by 
long-fringed  eyelids  ;  pencilled  eyebrows  ;  small  rosy 
mouths  and  round  chins.  In  the  veins  of  some  of 
these  women  might  well  flow  the  blood  of  long-for- 
gotten beauties  of  the  Byzantine  Court  —  such  as 
listened  to  Princess  Anne's  histories  and  politely 
stifled  their  yawns.  Quite  as  remarkable  as  their 
personal  charm  was  their  easy  self-possession  and 
freedom  from  the  inordinate  bashfulness  of  most 
Macedonian  women. 

Indeed,  Melenik,  though  in  size  smaller  than  many 
villages,  is  not  a  village.  It  is  a  city  in  the  best  sense 
of  the  word  ;  a  city  fallen  on  evil  days,  but  in  its  tone 
still  preserving  that  subtle,  indefinable,  and  yet  pal- 
pable, something  which  difi'erentiates  the  dweller  in  a 
town  from  the  country  hind.  The  urban  character  of 
Melenik,  owing  to  the  distance  of  the  town  from  all 
routes  of  direct  communication  with  Western  Europe, 
is  thoroughly  indigenous  and  homogeneous.  There  is 
one  faint  touch  of  cosmopolitanism,  however.  The 
men  of  the  upper  class,  most  of  whom  have  travelled 
abroad,  aff'ect  the  European  dress  modified  by  the 
rayaJis  fez,  the  badge  of  thraldom.  But  the  women 
are  quite  conservative.  They  dress  in  long  flowing 
skirts  and  high-waisted  bodices,  undisfigured  by  super- 
fluous jewellery.  The  younger  sort  may  aptly  be  de- 
scribed as  "  lasses  feat  an'  cleanly  neat."  Their  hair 
is  plaited  in  two  long  braids,  which  hang  down  the  back 
and  often  reach  far  below  the  waist.  A  simple  sober- 
coloured  silk  kerchief,  pushed  a  little  to  the  back, 
covers  part  of  the  head,  allowing  their  glossy  tresses. 


136  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

parted  in  the  middle,  to  show  themselves  in  front. 
Women  seem  to  occupy  a  higher  social  position  at 
Melenik  than  in  most  other  parts  of  Turkey,  and  it 
is  generally  the  hostess  who  does  the  honours  of  the 
house,  who  welcomes  the  coming  and  speeds  the  part- 
ing guest  with  a  handshake  and  a  "  Thank  you  " — for 
the  distinction  supposed  to  have  been  conferred  by  his 
visit,  or  at  any  rate  for  the  friendly  feeling  which  has 
prompted  it. 

At  noon  my  escort  left  me  in  charge  of  one  school- 
master, who,  as  the  Doctor-Ephor  informed  me,  had 
been  told  off  to  be  my  cicerone  throughout  my  stay — 
a  task  which  he  undertook  cheerfully,  for  it  meant  a 
holiday,  and  which  he  performed  admirably.  Mr.  A. 
was  a  well-read  and  far-travelled  man.  He  had  been 
to  Egypt  and  France,  and  had  spent  a  short  time  in 
London.  The  fog  and  the  underground  railway  seemed 
to  be  the  two  things  which  had  produced  the  deepest 
impression  on  his  mind  ;  but  neither  the  one  nor  the 
other  had  prevented  him  from  picking  up,  in  his  two 
weeks'  rambles  in  the  metropolis  of  Great  Britain,  more 
English  than  is  the  Greek  which  many  an  Englishman 
manages  to  muster  in  as  many  years  of  residence  in 
Athens. 

The  quantities  of  the  appetising  arrack  which  I  had 
been  made  to  absorb  during  the  morning,  added  to  the 
bracing  effect  of  the  steep  climbs  which  most  of  the 
visits  entailed,  had  prepared  me  for  something  more 
substantial  than  merely  gesthetic  and  intellectual  plea- 
sures. In  short,  I  was  hungry,  and  my  keeper  con- 
ducted me  to  one  of  the  two  cook-shops  of  the  town. 
It  was  a  narrow  oblong  room  open  in  front.  It  laid  no 
claim  to  either  ceiling  or  flooring.  The  grimy  rafters 
on  high  bore  evidence  of  long  ages  of  conscientious 


A  SUNDAY  AT  MELENIK  137 

and  unremitting  cooking,  and  likewise  spoke  volumes 
for  the  state  of  the  chimney  ;  while  the  nail-marks 
with  which  Mother  Earth  was  studded  beneath  spoke 
with  an  equal  force  for  the  crowd  of  habitues  who  at 
some  time  or  another  must  have  satisfied  the  cravings 
of  nature  on  the  premises. 

We  perched  ourselves  on  a  high  bench  fixed 
against  the  w^all,  behind  a  long  low  deal  table,  which 
unfortunately  was  not  fixed,  so  that  I  had  to  prop  up 
my  slanting  tin  plate  with  a  piece  of  brown  bread. 
For  a  shilling  we  had  a  gorgeous  dinner  ;  meat 
boiled  with  cabbages,  tomato-sauce,  and  plenty  of 
red  pepper  ;  a  mysterious  dish  called  kahourma  and 
tasting  like  mutton  chops  saturated  with  paraffin  oil ; 
and  we  finished  up  with  ravani,  a  kind  of  Turkish 
cake  swimming  in  a  sea  of  syrup.  There  were  no 
grapes,  owing  to  the  "wrath  of  God"  which  had 
ruined  the  vines,  but  there  was  rosy  wine  from  last 
year's  vintage,  a  liquid  that  sucklings  and  babes 
might  partake  copiously  of  with  impunity,  or  the 
strictest  teetotaller  indulge  in  to  any  extent  with- 
out losing  caste  or  being  found  out. 

In  the  afternoon,  under  the  guidance  of  Mr.  A., 
I  visited  one  of  the  typical  old  houses  of  which  I 
spoke  before.  We  knocked  at  a  small  stout  door, 
thickly  studded  with  broad-headed  nails,  and  were 
admitted  by  an  ancient  gentleman  in  night  attire — 
we  had  interrupted  his  siesta.  He  drew  the  bolt 
with  which  the  door  was  fastened  from  within — a 
long  heavy  beam  pulled  out  of  one  wall  into  a  hole 
in  the  opposite — and  then  at  the  sight  of  a  stranger 
fled,  to  reappear  a  few  minutes  later  in  more  fitting 
array.  He  was  a  lively  old  man,  with  a  short  grizzled 
beard    and    a    high    forehead,    deeply    furrowed    and 


138  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

cross-furrowed  in  a  way  recalling  the  rocky  banks  of 
the  Potamos.  He  rejoiced  in  the  name  of  Kouropa- 
lates,  which,  albeit  trying  to  the  maxillary  muscles, 
is  a  good  old  Byzantine  name.  But  its  owner  gave 
Heaven  thanks,  and  made  no  boast  of  it. 

He  showed  us  over  the  rambling  old  mansion  of 
which  he  now  was  the  only  occupant.  The  raised 
daises,  the  tchibook-stsiiids,  the  coffee-furnaces,  the 
elaborately  carved  ceilings,  and  vividly-painted  wain- 
scots, the  small  windows  of  coloured  glass  high  up 
in  the  walls,  the  numerous  passages,  trapdoors,  and 
quaint  cul-de-sac  corridors,  all  spoke  of  a  long-departed 
magnificence.  The  date  inscribed  in  one  of  the  rooms 
was  1750;  but,  to  judge  from  the  dark  colour  of  the 
woodwork,  the  building  might  be  considerably  older. 
The  lower  walls  of  the  house  were  of  solid  stone 
masonry.  Their  breadth  and  the  disproportionately 
small  size  of  the  iron-studded  door,  suggested  that 
the  house  was  meant  to  serve  as  a  fortress  in  time 
of  emergency.  The  same  hint  of  violence  and  need 
for  self-defence  was  conveyed  in  a  stronger  form  by 
the  kryvitsanos,  or  hiding  chamber,  with  which  this, 
like  most  other  houses  of  the  same  period,  is  pro- 
vided. 

These  secret  chambers,  of  which  I  saw  several  at 
Salonica,  sometimes  consist  of  a  narrow  apartment 
within  a  wall,  access  into  which  is  obtained  through 
an  opening  in  the  roof,  cunningly  concealed  with  a 
movable  board.  In  other  cases  it  is  a  cabinet  behind 
an  ordinary-looking  cupboard,  which,  if  you  press  a 
spring,  falls  back  and  reveals  a  secret  closet.  So 
numerous  and  various  are  the  devices  to  which  in 
bygone  days  the  Christians  of  Turkey,  like  the 
Catholics  of  England,  had  recourse  in  order  to  save 


A  SUNDAY  AT  MELENIK  139 

themselves  from  persecution.  For  the  same  reason 
one  finds  many  houses  communicating  one  with 
another  by  means  of  small  unobtrusive  posterns,  or 
'*  mid-doors "  [fxea-oOupia),  so  that  it  is  possible  to 
traverse  a  considerable  part  of  the  town  without  once 
getting  into  the  public  street.  All  these  features  of 
old  architecture  are  fast  dying  out,  along  with  the 
conditions  of  life  to  which  they  owed  their  birth. 
The  Turk  still  persecutes,  but  nowadays  he  does  it 
with  a  refinement  of  cruelty,  which  would  have  made 
his  ancestors  of  a  century  or  two  ago  blush  at  the 
crudeness  of  their  ways. 

Melenik  for  a  long  time  escaped  conquest  through 
an  ingenious  stratagem  ;  at  least  so  the  tradition  runs. 
When  the  slowly  advancing  wave  of  Islam  had  reached 
the  district,  the  inhabitants  bethought  themselves  to 
build  a  mosque,  with  a  lofty  minaret,  in  a  conspicuous 
part  of  the  town.  The  sight  of  this  symbol  of 
Mohammedanism  deceived  the  bodies  of  the  invaders, 
who  swept  over  the  neighbourhood,  into  the  belief 
that  Melenik  was  already  Turkish  and  therefore  not 
worth  plundering.  When  this  farce  could  no  longer 
be  kept  up,  some  of  the  leading  nobles  made  terms 
with  the  conqueror,  and  by  a  timely  surrender  and 
conversion  to  Islam,  obtained  the  right  of  ruling  the 
district  as  feudal  lords,  and  Melenik  remained  a 
hereditary  fief  in  those  families  until  the  reign  of 
Mahmoud  IL,  when  the  feudal  system  was  superseded 
by  the  modern  administrative  disorganisation. 

The  story  of  the  trick  by  which  the  Turks  were 
at  first  induced  to  spare  the  town,  incredible  as  it 
may  sound,  is  nevertheless  probable  enough,  when 
we  consider  the  unmethodical  and  erratic  nature  of 
the    conquest    of    the    Balkans.       It    also  derives    a 


140  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

certain  amount  of  support  from  the  position  of  the 
mosque,  which,  as  my  informants  pointed  out,  looks 
from  west  to  east,  as  Greek  churches  do,  and  not  towards 
Mecca — a  mistake  which  can  only  be  satisfactorily 
accounted  for  on  the  hypothesis  that  its  builders 
were  Christians  as  yet  unacquainted  with  the  ways  of 
Islam. 


CHAPTER  XV 
FURTHER   RESEARCHES   AT   MELENIK 

There  is  a  surprising  multitude  of  churches  at  Me- 
lenik ;  but,  such  is  Eastern  aversion  to  statistics,  no 
one  seemed  to  know  the  exact  number.  The  Kaim- 
akam,  whom  I  tried  to  cross-question,  dismissed  the 
subject  with  a  majestic  sweep  of  the  hand  and  an 
astronomical  metaphor. 

"  There  are  as  many  churches  in  this  town  as  there 
are  stars  in  the  sky,"  he  said,  airily. 

"What  does  that  mean?"  I  persisted,  stupidly. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  he  answered,  candidly. 

And  there  the  matter  ended. 

My  Greek  friends  were  less  hyperbolic  and  yet 
equally  mystifying.  Seventy  was  the  figure  confidently 
quoted.  But  this  is  only  a  favourite yapon  de  parler. 
Whether  it  is  derived  from  the  number  of  the  trans- 
lators of  the  Old  Testament,  or  from  the  number  of  of- 
fences entitled  to  a  free  pardon,  according  to  the  New, 
it  is  impossible  to  say.  In  any  case,  seventy  seems  to 
possess  a  peculiar  fascination  for  the  Eastern  mind. 
It  denotes  much  or  little,  many  or  few,  according  to 
circumstances,  the  only  thing  which  it  can  never, 
under  any  circumstances,  denote  being  seven  times  ten. 

For  example,  an  aged  man  is  spoken  of  as  being 
seventy  years  old  when  he  begins  to  look  ridiculous. 
If  his  birth  certificate  does  not  bear  out  the  statement, 
why,  so  much  the  worse  for'the  birth  certificate.    Again,, 


142  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

when  a  man  tells  you,  "  I  have  told  you  seventy  times  !  " 
it  is  an  unmistakable  sign  that  he  is  waxing  dangerous. 
On  the  other  hand,  "  seventy  grains  of  corn,"  when 
applied  to  the  crop  of  the  year,  indicates  starvation. 
In  the  present  instance,  according  to  my  cicerone — 
apparently  the  only  man  in  the  town  who  had  taken 
the  trouble  to  verify  the  popular  assertion — seventy 
meant  forty-five. 

This  figure  gives  an  average  of  one  church  to  each 
eighty-five  individuals,  infants  and  infidels  included  ! 
It  should  be  added,  however,  that  most  of  these  build- 
ings are  to  be  regarded  as  historical  monuments  of 
Byzantine  excess  of  piety  rather  than  as  places  of 
latter-day  sober  worship.  Most  of  them  are  only  ven- 
tilated once  a  year,  on  the  feast  of  the  saint  to  whom 
they  are  dedicated.  During  the  rest  of  the  time  they 
are  the  melancholy  abodes  of  insolvent  spiders. 

Some  of  these  homes  of  intermittent  prayer  contain 
objects  of  interest  to  the  visitor.  At  St.  Stephen's  I 
was  shown  three  large  folio  manuscripts  of  the  Gos- 
pels, written  on  fine  parchment  and  bound  in  solid 
wood  boards.  One  of  them  was  richly  illuminated, 
but  they  all  seemed  to  have  suffered  much  in  the 
course  of  ages,  and  bore  marks  of  hairbreadth  escapes 
both  from  fire  and  from  water.  Considering  the  inva- 
sions, massacres,  conflagrations,  and  robberies  of  which 
Macedonia  has  been  the  theatre  before  and  after  the 
Turkish  conquest,  it  is  a  marvel  that  anything  old 
should  have  survived  at  all.  In  the  same  church 
there  are  preserved  some  magnificent  bishop's  vest- 
ments, lavishly  embroidered  with  gold  and  coloured 
silk.  One  of  them  had  the  genealogical  tree  of  Jesse 
wrought  in  those  materials  down  the  front,  each 
branch  bearing  a  cluster  of  rosy  patriarchs  and  pro- 


FURTHER  RESEARCHES  AT  MELENIK       143 

phets.     The  delicate  finish  of  detail,  and  the  tasteful  ' 
grouping  of  the  figures  and  colours,  evinced  the  art 
of  no  mean  artist,  whoever  he  was. 

All  these  things  I  was  shown  by  my  circle  of  self- 
constituted  guides,  and  many  were  the  explanations  I 
was  called  upon  to  improvise  on  all  sorts  of  subjects 
I  knew  nothing  about.  To  make  matters  worse,  I 
was  given  clearly  to  understand  that  my  dignity  as  a 
graduate  of  a  great  university  depended  on  the  confi- 
dence, if  not  on  the  intrinsic  value,  of  my  opinions. 
It  was  of  no  use  my  protesting  that  I  was  only  a  humble 

collector  of  fairy-tales  and  subscriptions  for  the  X 

de  Scdonique,  and  knew  as  much  about  manuscripts  as 
their  own  bishop.  They  persisted  in  taking  my  solemn 
assurances  as  sallies  of  Socratic  irony. 

It  was  not  a  comfortable  position.  There  were  the 
ears  of  Melenik  strained  and  the  necks  of  Melenik 
craned  in  eager  expectation  of  my  utterances,  and 
here  was  wretched  I,  taxing  my  ingenuity  to  meet  the 
demand  suddenly  made  upon  my  supposed  stores  of 
antiquarian  lore.  I  was  in  the  middle  of  a  heroic 
effort  to  invent  for  one  of  the  manuscripts  a  date  an- 
cient enough  to  satisfy  the  amour  propre  of  the  Mele- 
nikiotes,  without  endangering  my  own  reputation  for 
omniscience.  The  struggle  brought  big  beads  of  cold 
perspiration  on  my  forehead.  I  felt  at  the  end  of  my 
resources.  The  ground  was  already  slipping  from 
under  my  feet,  when  lo !  by  sheer  force  of  that  mys- 
terious entity  which  some  call  intuition  and  others 
luck,  I  hit  on  the  very  century  assigned  to  the  docu- 
ment by  a  party  of  Russian  savants,  who  had  explored 
the  place  a  few  weeks  before,  with  no  earthly  object 
that  I  could  gather,  except  to  enhance  the  severity  of 
my  own  trials.     I  had  been  charitably  wishing  that 


144  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

those  Russian  gentlemen  had  never  been  born,  or  at 
least  that  they  had  broken  their  necks  on  their  way  to 
Melenik — they  were  described  as  very  indiflerent  horse- 
men— when  their  anticipatory  confirmation  of  my  hap- 
hazard guess  altered  my  feelings  towards  them  entirely. 
Having  thus  saved  my  face,  I  could  more  easily  afford 
to  insist  that  vestments  lay  beyond  the  sphere  of  my 
erudition. 

Another  chapel  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town  con- 
tains a  curious  old  icon  representing  the  Holy  Trinity 
as  a  human  body  with  three  heads  sprouting  from  one 
neck.  The  weaker  part  of  my  companions  were  sorely 
scandalised,  when  they  heard  that  this  is  the  form 
under  which  the  Hindoo  triad  (Trimourti)  figures  in 
some  of  the  temples  of  India.  But  my  own  impiety 
was  eclipsed  and  condoned  by  the  opportune  irrever- 
ence of  my  cicerone,  who  went  so  far  as  to  suggest 
that  it  was  a  good  portrait  of  Geryon,  the  three-headed 
monster  slain  by  Herakles.' 

Several  other  shrines  are  to  be  found  scattered 
round  about  Melenik.  One  of  them  is  in  the  convent 
of  the  "  Cave "  (S-TTJ^Xaio),  a  tiny  place  belonging  to 
Vatopedi,  the  richest  monastery  on  Mount  Athos. 
Besides  this,  I  visited  the  "Plane-tree"  (HXarai/o?), 
and  St.  Nicholas.  The  latter  preserves  in  its  east  end 
portions  of  the  original  Byzantine  church,  built  in  the 
form  of  a  Greek  cross.  The  upper  end  is  extant,  and 
the  apse  and  sides  are  still  covered  with  mouldy, 
blurred,  old  frescoes  in  the  conventionally  rigid  style 
of  Eastern  ecclesiastical  art.  Quite  close  to  this  church 
stand  the  ruins  of  a  fortress  said  to  be  of  the  Byzantine 
period.  All  these  buildings  are  situated  on  giddy 
precipices  easily  scaled  by  the  natives,  who  can  walk 
on  a  fifteen-inch  ledge  of  rock  as  comfortably  as  one 


Mei.emk. 


FURTHER  RESEARCHES  AT  MELENIK       145 

walks  on  a  smooth  garden  lawn.  From  one  of  these 
heights  I  saw  a  glorious  sunset,  with  the  Potamos  and 
the  Struma  glowing  far  away  at  the  foot  of  Mount 
Orvylos. 

Some  of  the  inhabitants  spoke  with  vague  enthu- 
siasm of  virgin  forests  and  beautiful  lakes  among  the 
lofty  mountains  to  the  north ;  but  none  could  give  me 
any  exact  information,  as  those  regions  are  infested 
with  brigands,  and  consequently  inaccessible  to  peace- 
ful mortals.  As  many  as  fifty  of  those  lords  of  the 
mountains  were  said  to  be  lurking  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood  of  the  town  at  the  time  of  my  visit. 
The  notorious  Dontsos  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  fifteen 
especially  figured  as  the  villain  of  many  blood-curdling 
tragedies.  Another  popular  character  was  one  to  whom 
a  capricious  fate  had  given  the  name  of  Angelos,  or 
Angel.  He  had  been  killed  some  time  before  by  a 
secret  police  agent,  who  had  joined  the  band,  insinu- 
ated himself  into  the  chief's  good  graces,  and  then 
betrayed  him.  His  head  had  been  brought  to  Melenik 
and  exhibited  for  a  day  in  terrorem.  This  rare  instance 
of  activity  on  the  part  of  the  authorities  was  ascribed 
to  the  energetic  remonstrances  of  the  Greek  Bishop  of 
Melenik,  who  had  prevailed  on  his  friend  the  Vali  of 
Salonica  to  order  the  local  KaimaJcam  to  break  up  the 
band.  "  It  is  a  case  of  either  Angel's  head  or  yours," 
said  the  Vali,  and  his  subordinate  swore  a  sonorous  oath 
that,  if  a  head  must  needs  fall,  it  should  not  be  his 
own. 

Angel  left  a  lasting  souvenir  of  his  ignoble  career 
in  the  blackened  ruins  of  a  score  of  houses,  which  had 
been  burnt  down  in  one  of  his  daring  raids,  and  which 
were  now  the  home  of  stray  dogs  and  other  outcasts 
of  society.     But  he  was  by  no  means  the  last  of  the 

K 


146  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

brigands.  Illustrations  of  the  temerity  of  his  successors 
abounded  at  every  turn.  A  house  in  a  state  of  utter 
decay  was  pointed  out  to  me  as  the  pathetic  scene  of 
a  recent  tragedy.  Not  long  ago  it  was  the  home  of  a 
widow  and  her  three  sons,  who  by  the  sweat  of  their 
brows  had  managed  to  accumulate  a  fortune  of  some 
two  thousand  pounds,  invested  in  land  and  live-stock. 
The  brigands,  after  having  fleeced  them  repeatedly, 
ended  by  killing  one  of  the  brothers,  burning  their 
granaries,  carrying  off  their  cattle,  and,  in  a  word, 
reducing  them  to  penury.  The  old  lady  died  of  a 
broken  heart,  and  was  soon  followed  to  the  grave  by 
her  second  son.  The  third  still  lives,  a  broken-down, 
half-crazy  beggar. 

The  upshot  of  this  state  of  things  is  that  no 
Melenikiote  worth  robbing  ventures  five  minutes'  walk 
beyond  the  boundaries  of  the  town.  Those  who 
frequent  the  markets  held  in  the  neighbouring  villages 
of  Sfeti  Bratchi  and  Katoundja  are  obliged  to  do  so 
under  the  expensive  protection  of  a  guard  of  gend- 
armes. And  all  this  in  a  town  which  boasts  a  frock- 
coated  Kaimakam  with  a  turn  for  astronomy,  and  a 
military  force  over  four  hundred  weak. 

Wine  is  the  chief  product  of  the  district,  whose 
soil  seems  to  be  eminently  suitable  for  the  cultivation 
of  the  vine.  Yet  the  inhabitants,  in  spite  of  the 
fertility  of  the  soil  and  their  own  intelligent  industry, 
barely  manage  to  make  both  ends  meet.  The  fear  of 
the  brigands  often  forces  them  to  let  their  vineyards 
lie  fallow,  and  the  extortions  of  the  tax-collectors 
minimise  even  such  profit  as  there  is.  An  old  vine- 
owner  told  me  with  tears  in  his  eyes  that,  after  having 
been  despoiled  three  times  by  the  brigands  and  thirty 
times  by  the  tax-collectors,  he  was  at  last  obliged  to 


FURTHER  RESEARCHES  AT  MELENIK      147 

give  up   his  vines    entirely  and  reside   in  the    town, 
relying  on  his  skill  in  fur-coat  making  for  subsistence. 

The  tithe  on  grapes  is  twelve  and  a  half  per  cent, 
nominally.  It  is  assessed  while  the  fruit  is  still  on 
the  vines,  and  no  man  is  allowed  to  begin  gathering 
in  before  the  tax-farmer's  arrival.  These  worthies 
often  insist  on  being  paid  in  coin  instead  of  in  kind, 
basing  their  demands  on  a  valuation  which  bears  a 
closer  analogy  to  their  own  cupidity  than  to  the  market 
value  of  the  product.  If  the  owner  objects,  the  grapes 
are  left  in  the  open  air  at  the  mercy  of  the  elements 
until  he  is  brought  round  to  a  more  reasonable  frame 
of  mind.  The  tax-farmer  is  absolute  master  of  the 
situation,  and  he  knows  it.  Complaints  are  unavailing, 
as  the  law-courts  never  fail  to  favour  the  defendants, 
and  send  the  plaintiff  away  with  a  heavier  heart  and  a 
lighter  purse  than  were  his  before  he  crossed  the 
threshold  of  the  temple  of  Turkish  injustice. 

Apart  from  the  tithe  levied  on  grapes,  there  is  a 
duty  of  fifteen  per  cent,  on  the  wine  pressed  there- 
from, and  another  fifteen  per  cent,  is  raised  on  the 
arrack  distilled  from  the  skins  of  the  same.  So  the 
tithe  on  vines  in  reality  amounts  to  forty-two  and  a 
half  per  cent.,  a  sum  in  its  turn  indefinitely  increased 
by  the  bakshish,  which  has  to  be  given  at  every  stage 
of  the  process  from  gathering  in  to  distilling. 

This  is  the  general  rule,  but,  like  most  general 
rules,  it  admits  of  certain  exceptions,  and  one  is  not 
surprised  or  sorry  to  hear  that  extortion  sometimes 
overreaches  itself.  The  tax  on  arrack  at  the  time  of 
my  visit  amounted  to  nearly  double  the  market  value 
of  the  article  taxed — a  phenomenon  which  ceased  to 
mystify  me,  as  soon  as  I  discovered  that  a  great  deal  of 
the  arrack  consumed  had  been  distilled  surreptitiously. 


I4S  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

and  had  never  been  taxed  at  all.  Thus  things  some- 
how find  their  logical  level :  "There  is  a  Providence  for 
the  robbed  as  well  as  for  the  robber,"  according  to  a 
local  adage.  Yet  the  cases  admitting  of  self-adjust- 
ment are  limited  in  number,  and  do  not  go  far  towards 
mending  the  position  of  the  agricultural  population  at 
large.  That  position  is  the  position  of  the  proverbial 
ass — starvation  in  the  midst  of  plenty.  If  the  peasant 
eludes  the  brigands  of  the  mountain,  he  cannot  always 
elude  the  tax-collector  of  the  town,  and  he  is  therefore 
compelled  to  subsidise  both. 

One  thing  that  impressed  me  deeply  about  these 
peasants  is  their  indomitable  patience  and  undying 
confidence  in  the  future.  Their  sense  of  justice  re- 
volts against  the  idea  that  they  are  destined  to  drag 
the  chain  of  slavery  for  ever,  and  they  still  keep  the 
torch  of  hope  burning.  It  is  the  only  light  that  re- 
deems the  infernal  darkness  of  their  lives. 

Some  of  them  are  under  the  impression  that  the 
Church  of  Rome  is  responsible  for  their  woes.  "  It 
was  the  Pope  who  delivered  us  up  to  the  Turks,  and 
it  is  he  who  still  keeps  us  under  the  yoke,"  said  an 
old  farmer  to  me  on  one  occasion.  His  somewhat 
apocryphal  and  sweeping  assertion  shows  the  deep  im- 
pression left  by  the  Fourth  Crusade  on  the  minds  of 
the  inhabitants  of  these  countries.  This  is  the  crusade 
described  by  Sir  R.  Jebb,  in  terms  none  too  severe,  as 
"  a  marauding  expedition  by  twenty  thousand  brigands, 
whose  deliberate  purpose  was  to  divide  the  spoil  of  the 
Byzantine  Empire,  according  to  a  prearranged  plan,  and 
who  mocked  the  sacred  ensign  under  which  they  marched 
by  making  it  the  pretext  of  an  infamous  design."  ^ 

^  "  Modern  Greece,"  p.  30 ;  see  also  "  The  Fall  of  Constantinople  in 
the  Fourth  Crusade,"  by  Edwin  Pears,  LL.D. 


FURTHER  RESEARCHES  AT  MELENIK      149 

There  is  no  doubt  that  these  marauders  by  the 
iniquitous  capture  of  Constantinople  sapped  the  foun- 
dations of  Byzantine  power,  already  rotten,  and  precipi- 
tated the  end.  The  sufferings  and  the  humiliations 
which  those  champions  of  Christendom  inflicted  on  the 
unfortunate  Christians  of  the  East,  were  of  such  a 
nature  that  even  five  centuries  of  Turkish  tyranny  have 
failed  to  wipe  off  the  bitterness  thereof. 

Another  vivid  illustration  of  tlie  heritage  of  horror 
and  hatred,  bequeathed  by  those  exemplary  soldiers 
of  the  cross,  came  under  my  notice  at  Melenik.  An  old 
woman  in  scolding  her  son  could  find  no  stronger 
epithet  to  brand  his  delinquencies  with  than  that  of 
"  O  thou  Latin,  accursed  Latin  ! " — a  quintessence  of 
abuse,  my  cicerone  explained,  equal  in  force  to  at 
least  half-a-dozen  ordinary  expletives,  and  only  used  in 
cases  of  supreme  gravity,  of  which  the  present  ap- 
peared to  be  one. 

Before  leaving  this  delightful  seat  of  rapacity,  past 
and  present,  I  had  an  interview  with  my  friend  the 
Kaimakani.  I  wanted  to  ask  him  for  a  couple  of 
souvaris,  or  mounted  gendarmes,  not  because  I  thought 
that,  in  the  event  of  an  attack  by  brigands,  they  would 
be  of  much  use,  but  as  being  the  only  means  of  hold- 
ing the  authorities  responsible,  should  the  worst  come 
to  the  worst.  Had  1  not  applied  for  an  escort  they 
might  plausibly  plead  ignorance  of  my  presence  in  the 
district. 

Mounted  gendarmes  are  an  expensive  necessity,  as 
the  traveller  has  to  keep  them  and  their  horses,  and  on 
dismissing  them  he  is  expected  to  reward  them  with  a 
gratuity,  the  amount  of  which  depends  on  the  traveller's 
quality  and  nationality.  In  this  matter  an  Englishman 
is  severely  handicapped  by  a  widespread  belief  in  his 


150  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

wealth.  This  belief  is  as  deeply  rooted  as  any  other 
popular  superstition.  Nothing  will  persuade  a  native 
that  you  are  not  a  full-blown  milord,  if  not  actually  a 
prince  of  the  blood,  travelling  incogrdto.  Travel, 
except  for  commercial  purposes,  is  considered  to  be  an 
indication  of  one  of  two  things — rank  or  madness,  and 
one  is  often  at  a  loss  which  of  the  two  characters  to 
prefer.  To  make  matters  worse,  the  idea  is  not  con- 
fined to  the  common  and  comparatively  harmless 
peasantry.  It  is  shared  by  the  brigands  themselves, 
who  seldom  condescend  to  accept  less  than  ^12,000 
as  an  Englishman's  ransom. 

These  considerations,  coupled  with  a  picture  of  the 
horrors  attending  a  detention  in  the  mountains  through 
the  winter,  prompted  me  to  claim  an  escort.  The 
Kaimakam  readily  promised  me  as  many  men  as  I 
wanted,  and  called  up  an  officer  to  give  the  necessary 
orders.  The  officer  gone,  his  Excellency  informed  me 
that  by  1 2  o'clock  (Turkish  time)  on  the  following  day 
I  should  have  my  gendarmes.  As  it  turned  out,  I  did 
not  avail  myself  of  this  dubious  privilege.  For  in  the 
course  of  the  afternoon  I  discovered  that  a  caravan  was 
starting  much  earlier  in  the  morning,  and  I  decided  to 
join  it,  as  a  less  ostentatious  and  consequently  safer 
method  of  travelling.  Complete  secrecy  had  to  be 
observed,  and  no  one  knew  of  my  intended  departure 
except  the  invaluable  Mr.  A.,  who  undertook  to  en- 
gage for  me  a  mount  in  his  own  name.  All  these 
precautions  were  calculated  to  bring  home  to  one  the 
demoralising  influence  of  the  Turkish  regime,  and 
that  night  I  puzzled  myself  to  sleep  with  the  conun- 
drum :  "  Where  do  honest  men  go,  if  Turkish  gover- 
nors go  to  heaven  ? " 


CHAPTEE  XVI 
ON  THE  ROAD  TO  PETRITZ 

September  19. — The  day  was  just  breaking  as  we 
set  forth.  I  was  mounted  on  a  superb  hybrid,  which 
by  the  smartness  of  its  kicks  showed,  according  to  the 
muleteer,  the  nobility  of  its  lineage.  Its  only  faults,  if 
it  had  any,  were  self-consciousness  and  an  embarrass- 
ing tendency  to  have  its  own  way  ;  both  qualities  said 
to  be  the  last  infirmities  of  a  noble  mule.  I  personally 
was  inclined  to  regard  them  rather  as  the  vices  of  a 
corrupt  and  perverted  nature,  but  I  said  nothing,  not 
wishing  to  wound  its  master's  feelings. 

My  fellow-travellers  were  all  substantial  merchants, 
well  mounted  and  well,  though  covertly,  armed  with 
the  indispensable  revolver,  in  defiance  of  the  law  which 
forbids  the  Christians  to  carry  arms.  As  one  of  them 
said,  "  If  the  Sultan  will  not  protect  us,  it  is  only 
reasonable  that  we  should  endeavour  to  protect  our- 
selves," a  proposition  with  which  I  heartily  agreed. 
Our  way  at  first  lay  through  the  partially  dried  up  bed 
of  the  Potamos,  but  after  a  while  we  climbed  over  its 
right  bank  and  in  a  short  time  reached  another  tribu- 
tary of  the  Struma.  As  we  forded  it,  I  asked  my  com- 
panions for  its  name. 

"  Oh,  it  comes  from  somewhere  far  away,"  answered 
one  of  them,  with  characteristic  precision. 

"  AVhat  is  its  name  ?  Hasn't  it  got  a  name  ?  "  I 
insisted. 


152  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

"  What  kind  of  a  name  would  you  expect  it  to 
have  ?  Na,  it  is  a  river,"  he  rejoined,  amazed  at  my 
stupidity. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  that  I  had  been  bafiled  in 
my  efibrts  to  improve  my  geography.  To  a  native  a 
river  is  "  the  river,"  a  mountain  "  the  mountain." 
Beyond  that  he  neither  knows  nor  cares  to  know. 
So  I  jogged  on  sad  and  unenlightened. 

And  now  we  came  in  sight  of  the  Struma  itself, 
which,  though  it  here  expands  to  a  considerable 
breadth,  is  fordable  in  three  different  places.  At  this 
season  its  chocolate-coloured  bosom  is  dotted  with  a 
number  of  sandy  islets  which  in  winter  disappear 
beneath  the  waters.  We  forded  it  with  no  further 
damage  than  a  heavy  splash,  and  gained  the  other 
bank.  The  country  on  this  side  of  the  river  formed  a 
delightful  contrast  to  the  desolate  district  which  I  had 
traversed  a  few  days  before  on  my  way  north.  The 
land  wore  a  less  sullen  mien,  and  it  seemed  to  greet 
the  coming  dawn  with  a  genial  smile.  The  mountains 
cast  long  shadows  across  the  plain,  flocks  of  sheep  and 
goats  grazed  here  and  there  on  the  slopes,  the  cows 
looked  less  like  the  lot  which  figures  in  Pharaoh's 
second  dream  than  any  I  had  hitherto  seen  in  Turkey, 
a  herd  of  big,  heavy  buff'aloes  was  driven  to  its  pasture 
by  a  tiny  maiden  of  some  ten  summers,  and  the  notes 
of  a  shepherd's  pipe  came  ever  and  anon  from  behind  a 
hill,  floating  on  the  morning  breeze.  Apparently  in- 
spired by  the  idyllic  character  of  the  environment,  one 
of  my  companions  broke  into  song,  the  subject  of 
which,  as  far  as  I  could  make  out,  were  the  adventures 
of  six  nuns.  It  was  upon  a  balmy  morning  like  the 
present  that  the  saintly  maidens,  according  to  the  poet, 
had  gone  forth  to  bathe.     But  on  emerging  from  the 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  PETRITZ  153 

waters  they  found  themselves  in  as  embarrassing  a  pre- 
dicament as  ever  confronted  bathing  maidens.  A  wily 
wight,  concealed  behind  a  clump  of  willows,  had 
watched  them  go  into  the  stream  and  had  cunningly 
stolen  away  their  garments.  Nor  would  he  surrender 
his  booty  unconditionally. 

Thus  "  we  with  singing  cheer'd  the  way." 

A  little  later  we  forded  the  Strumnitza,  a  third 
tributary,  which  flows  into  the  Struma  from  the  west, 
waded  through  a  marsh,  and  entered  a  tchiftlik.  Many 
more  marshes  lined  our  path — unwholesome  yet  not 
unbeautiful  sheets  of  water — sown  with  green  rushes 
and  dwarf  willows,  and  peopled  with  numerous  colonies 
of  loquacious  frogs.  The  day  was  now  drawing  to- 
wards noon,  and  the  grasshoppers  chirped  shrilly  in 
the  blackberry  bushes,  birds  twittered  in  the  trees,  a 
turtle-dove  was  now  and  again  heard  from  amidst  the 
thick  foliage  of  an  elm,  and  a  long-tailed  magpie  flew 
chattering  over  our  heads. 

The  tchiftlik  was  the  property  of  a  Mohammedan, 
and  as  we  rode  through  it  we  saw  several  groups  of 
Turkish  women  engaged  in  picking  cotton  in  the  fields, 
or  seated  in  a  ring  before  a  hut  shelling  maize.  At 
the  sight  of  breeched  humanity  they  hastened  to  pull 
the  white  yashmak  over  their  faces,  but,  daughters  of 
Eve  that  they  were,  they  could  not  resist  the  impulse 
of  stealing  a  timid  glance  from  behind  its  folds.  Male 
labourers  were  also  at  work  in  the  land,  some  digging, 
others  ploughing  with  a  pair  of  oxen,  or  an  ox  and  a 
buffalo  yoked  together  in  grotesque  and  uncomfortable 
fellowship. 

A  turn  in  the  road,  and  Petritz  burst  full  upon 
the  scene.  It  is  a  straggling  township  spread  over  the 
nether  slopes  of  a  high,  thickly-wooded  range,  which 


154  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

forms  the  western  boundary  of  a  broad,  square  valley. 
The  mountains  above  the  town  are  mantled  with 
chestnut  and  pine  forests,  and  the  plain,  which  stretches 
before  it,  is  covered  with  fields  of  maize,  wheat,  barley, 
oats,  and  rice,  as  well  as  with  a  few  cotton  and  tobacco 
plantations  scattered  here  and  there  by  way  of  variety. 
Orchards  also  abound,  rich  in  melons  and  water-melons, 
pears,  peaches,  and  figs,  not  to  mention  the  gay  green 
vineyards  yonder.  The  bleached  skull  of  a  defunct 
ox  rose  at  intervals  from  amid  the  green  vegetation, 
like  a  ghostly  sentinel  from  the  vale  of  Acheron.  Its 
dark  gaping  nostrils,  empty  sockets,  and  curved  horns, 
fitted  it  admirably  for  its  gruesome  task  of  scaring 
away  evil  spirits  and  greedy  crows. 

It  was  market-day  (Wednesday),  and  the  dry, 
gravelly  water-course,  which  here  also  forms  the  main 
thoroughfare,  was  alive  with  buyers  and  sellers :  a 
motley  assembly,  presenting  a  highly-coloured  pano- 
rama of  national  costumes  and  dialects,  features  and 
faiths.  Besides  the  familiar  Turkish  official  in  thread- 
bare uniform,  and  the  equally  familiar  figure  of  the 
Greek  tradesman,  there  were  Bulgarian  rustics  in 
shaggy  goatskin  caps  and  sheepskin  jackets,  rubbing 
shoulders  with  Wallachian  shepherds  in  white  kilts 
and  long  blue  cloaks ;  Koniars  in  shabby  brown 
breeches  mingled  with  shabbier  gipsies  from  a  ragged 
encampment  outside  the  town.  Lambs  and  kids  were 
slaughtered,  skinned,  and  quartered  on  the  spot,  and 
their  blood  trickled  dark  and  ghastly  between  the 
smooth  white  boulders  in  the  river-bed — a  veritable 
massacre  of  the  innocents  on  a  reduced  scale. 

Cattle,  fruit,  fowls,  vegetables,  salted  fish,  and 
cheap  jewellery  were  exhibited  on  every  side.  The 
babel  of  tongues  was  swelled  by  the  inarticulate  bray- 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  PETRITZ  155 

ing  and  bleating  of  hairy  quadrupeds,  the  cackling  and 
crowing  of  feathered  bipeds,  and  by  the  din  of  bells 
and  the  clang  of  chains.  As  heterogeneous  a  con- 
glomeration of  sounds  and  scenes,  colours  and  forms, 
as  ever  furnished  the  stuff  for  a  maniac's  dream. 

Through  this  pandemonium  I  wound  my  way  to 
the  Khan  (where  my  friend  Mr.  G.  of  Serres  lodged). 
Arrived  there,  I  found  the  entrance  blocked  by  a 
crowd  of  peasants  standing  in  a  ring  round  two  pedlars, 
who,  with  their  wares  spread  before  them  in  the  street, 
were  engaged  in  a  loud  disputation. 

*'  I  tell  thee,  He  was  a  Bulgar." 

"  Christ  a  Bulgar !  why,  thou  onion-headed  sim- 
pleton, all  the  world  knows  that  He  was  a  Greek ! " 

This  repartee,  which  I  heard  as  I  dismounted,  gave 
me  the  clue  to  the  subject  under  discussion. 

As  I  elbowed  my  way  through  the  crowd,  the 
disputants  caught  sight  of  me,  and  both  with  one  voice 
appealed  to  me  to  act  as  umpire. 

"  You  are  a  stranger,  sir,"  they  said,  "  and  a 
tchelehi — man  of  culture  " — that  was  evidently  a  tribute 
to  my  Frank  dress.  "So  we  shall  leave  the  question 
to  your  decision." 

A  deep  silence  fell  upon  the  assembly,  and  the 
whole  countryside  looked  eagerly  at  me.  I,  finding 
myself  suddenly  called  upon  to  pronounce  an  opinion 
on  so  weighty  a  matter,  paused,  stroked  my  chin 
meditatively  for  a  minute  or  two,  and  then  slowly 
and  deliberately  said  : — 

"  It  is  commonly  supposed  that  He  was  a  Jew." 

A  roar  of  laughter  greeted  my  answer. 

"Get  away,  sir,  you  are  mocking  us!"  said  one 
of  the  disputing  pedlars,  red  with  anger. 

"  You  are  a  merry  one,"   said  the  other,  and  he 


iS6  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

laughed  loud  and  long  to  show  that  he  was  not  too 
dull  to  see  the  point  of  the  joke  ! 

This  was  only  a  laughable  instance  of  a  by  no 
means  laughable  state  of  things.  Patriotism  with  the 
majority  of  these  people  seems  to  be  a  form  of  national 
disease.  To  the  Macedonian  jingo  all  questions,  from 
philology  to  theology,  are  matters  within  "the  sphere 
of  practical  politics."  The  Greeks,  being  more  intel- 
lectual than  their  neighbours,  are  the  greater  offenders 
in  this  respect.  Their  irritability  without  a  doubt  is 
largely  due  to  the  state  of  perennial  and  passionate 
antao-onism  to  which  the  Greek  nation  has  found  itself 
exposed  for  centuries.  From  ancient  times  to  the 
present  day  it  has  been  surrounded  by  alien  races 
thwarting  its  free  development,  endeavouring  to  rob 
it  of  its  inheritance,  and  often  endangering  its  very 
existence.  A  Macedonian  farmer  of  that  nationality 
once  put  the  matter  to  me  in  forcibly  figurative 
terms  : — 

"  We  Greeks,  sir,"  he  said,  "  are  like  so  many  ears 
of  corn  standing  in  the  midst  of  weeds  and  tares  of  all 
sorts.  They  do  their  best  to  starve  and  to  choke  us. 
Yet,  by  the  grace  of  God,  we  somehow  contrive  to 
shoot  up  and  bear  fruit." 

Petritz  is  one  of  the  places  in  Macedonia  where 
the  feud  between  Greek  and  Bulgar  has  attained  its 
fiercest  aspect.  The  struggle  for  racial  supremacy 
between  Slav  and  Hellene,  a  struggle  as  old  as  the 
hills,  is  here,  more  than  anywhere  else,  identified  with 
and  embittered  by  the  religious  strife  which  rages 
between  the  followers  of  the  Bulgarian  Exarch  and 
those  of  the  Greek  Patriarch — the  schismatic  and  the 
orthodox  parties.  This  animosity  pervades  and  poisons 
all  the  relations  of  life,  private  no  less  than  public. 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  PETRITZ  157 

A  Greek  will  on  no  account  speak  to  or  shake  hands 
with  a  Bulgar.  Nor  will  a  Bulgar  patronise  a  shop 
kept  by  a  Greek.  The  antipathy  between  the  two 
nationalities  amounts  almost  to  physical  repugnance. 
It  far  exceeds  any  feeling  of  enmity  that  either  of  them 
may  entertain  towards  the  Turk,  who  has  ground  them 
both  to  the  dust  during  five  centuries  of  the  most  un- 
mitigated oppression  imaginable. 

Party  passion  from  the  market-place  is  often  carried 
into  the  very  bosom  of  the  family.  At  Petritz,  as  in 
other  parts  of  Macedonia,  I  found  many  a  house  divided 
against  itself,  some  of  the  members  of  the  family 
espousing  one  cause,  while  the  others  supported  the 
opposite.  Not  that  the  division  is  always  based  on 
sincere  discrepancy  of  political  or  religious  views. 
Patriotism  in  too  many  cases  can  be  described  as 
purse-deep.  The  Bulgarian  propaganda  spares  no 
effort  and  no  expense  for  the  acquisition  of  proselytes, 
and  many  of  the  adherents  of  the  Bulgarian  party  at 
Petritz  and  other  districts  of  Central  Macedonia  are 
in  receipt  of  a  monthly  salary.  This  is  one  of  the 
methods  adopted  by  these  latter-day  fishers  of  souls ; 
a  practical  method  enough,  though  rather  expensive 
and  not  invariably  successful.  There  are  even  in 
Petritz  men  who  will  not  sell  their  souls  for  silver. 
For  the  conversion  of  these,  another  and  sterner  as 
well  as  cheaper  metal  is  employed.  A  highly  respect- 
able inhabitant  of  Petritz  assured  me  that  for  some 
time  past  both  methods  had  been  tried  on  him.  He 
had  been  offered  ^T.6  (about  ;^5,  8s.)  a  month  if  he 
would  join  the  Exarchic  fold — this  apparently  being 
the  market  value  of  a  first-class  Macedonian  soul — or 
a  free  passage  to  immortality  by  an  early  conveyance, 
should  he  refuse.     He   refused,  and    ever   since   had 


158  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

been  living  in  constant  fear,  which  was  fully  justified 
by  the  fate  of  others. 

By  a  judicious  combination  of  these  two  methods — 
corruption  and  intimidation — the  Bulgarian  propaganda 
has  already  succeeded  in  weaning  more  than  three- 
quarters  of  the  Christian  population  of  the  town  from 
the  mother  Church.  They  have  appropriated  one  of 
the  two  places  of  worship  and,  at  the  time  of  my  visit, 
were  striving  hard  to  gain  possession  of  the  other. 
This,  besides  the  bustle  of  a  market-day,  was  a  second 
cause  for  excitement.  A  third  incident  added  still 
further  to  the  ferment  in  which  I  found  the  place. 
Several  acts  of  brigandage  had  been  reported  from  the 
environs,  and  the  Kaimaham  at  the  head  of  all  the 
military  force,  regular  troops  as  well  as  gendarmes, 
had  gone  forth  in  pursuit  of  the  miscreants,  leaving 
one  mounted  gendarme  to  guard  the  Konah. 

An  Italian  engineer,  who  was  supervising  the  con- 
struction of  a  bridge  at  a  short  distance  from  the  town, 
had  been  attacked  a  few  nights  back  and  had  barely 
efi'ected  his  escape  into  Petritz.  The  Kaimakam,  un- 
able to  protect  him  and  unwilling  to  run  the  risk  of  a 
foreigner  coming  to  grief  in  the  district  under  his 
jurisdiction,  had  packed  him  off  to  Salonica  under 
escort.  The  local  Governor's  anxiety  to  save  the 
engineer  can  easily  be  understood  when  it  is  re- 
membered that  a  foreigner's  ransom  generally  costs 
the  Sultan  between  ;^  10,000  and  ^15,000,  and  the 
local  Governor  his  post,  unless  he  can  manage  to 
refund  the  sum  at  once  by  squeezing  the  peasants 
hard.  The  achievement  is  not  impossible ;  but,  in 
spite  of  the  official's  zealous  exertions,  it  requires  time, 
and  the  Sultan  will  brook  no  delay.  When,  however, 
a  mere  rayah,  native  Christian  or  Jew,  falls  into  the 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  PETRITZ  159 

brigands'  hands,  no  one  troubles  to  raise  a  finger  on 
his  behalf,  and  he  is  left  to  perish  or  ransom  himself, 
as  the  case  may  be.  It  is  only  after  he  has  bought 
himself  off  that  the  authorities  begin  to  take  an 
interest  in  him.  "  Ah,"  says  the  Kaimakam,  rubbing 
his  hands  in  high  glee,  "  you  have  ransomed  yourself, 
my  good  man,  eh  ?  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it.  Fancy, 
I  never  thought  you  were  so  well  off  as  all  that ! 
Come  now,  if  you  are  able  to  satisfy  the  voracity  of 
those  ravenous  wolves,  surely  you  will  find  no  difficulty 
in  satisfying  the  moderate  appetite  of  your  lawful 
Governor."  Should  the  liberated  captive  fail  to  appre- 
ciate the  logic  of  this  appeal,  the  Kaimakam  has 
another  argument  ready  at  hand.  "  O  thou  infidel 
cur,"  he  will  say,  shaking  his  fist  persuasively,  "  who 
art  thou  that  thou  shouldst  insult  his  Majesty's  Govern- 
ment by  paying  tribute  to  the  brigands  ?  Is  this  thy 
gratitude  for  our  forbearance  in  allowing  thy  head  to 
grow  between  thy  shoulders  ?  Tribute  to  the  brigands, 
indeed !  and  such  a  sum,  too,  as  though  the  brigands 
were  respectable,  officially  appointed  Kaimakams  !  Off 
to  prison  with  him ! "  This  does  not  claim  to  be  a 
report  of  an  actual  dialogue,  but  it  is  a  faithful  sum- 
mary of  scenes,  which  form  the  everyday  topic  of 
conversation  in  the  coffee-shops  of  Petritz  and  other 
seats  of  Turkish  misrule. 

The  attack  on  the  Italian  engineer  was  the  first 
of  many  even  bolder  raids,  which  obliged  the  Kai- 
makam  to  take  the  unprecedented  step  of  exchanging 
his  sofa  and  narghileh  for  a  hard  Macedonian  saddle 
and  a  pistol.  He  was  cashiered  for  this  breach  of 
discipline.  But  this  was  later  on.  What  concerns 
us  at  present  is  the  story  of  his  campaign.  The 
expedition  proved  a  wild-goose  chase.     As  might  have 


i6o  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

been  expected,  the  brigands  did  not  wait  for  his 
Excellency.  After  having  spent  the  night  at  Tsarit- 
sani,  a  village  three  and  a  half  hours'  journey  to  the 
north-west  of  Petritz,  feasted  and  made  merry  at  the 
expense  of  the  villagers,  they  departed  leaving  behind 
them  no  other  message  than  the  cold  ashes  of  a  bon- 
fire. His  Excellency  was  naturally  disappointed  at 
their  want  of  courtesy ;  but,  being  a  determined  man 
and  an  ambitious,  he  could  not  think  of  going  back 
empty-handed.  When  he  found  that  no  brigands  were 
to  be  had,  he  captured  the  village  notables,  who  had 
been  the  unwilling  guests  of  the  brigands,  and  who 
had  apprised  him  of  the  presence  of  the  latter  as  soon 
as  they  safely  could.  These  wretches  were  dragged  at 
the  tail  of  his  Excellency's  retinue  into  the  town,  and 
thrown  into  prison. 

If  any  faith  is  to  be  placed  in  common  report,  they 
were  tortured  in  a  horrible  manner.  The  account 
which  reached  me  from  more  than  one  quarter  was 
that  they  were  flogged  until  the  blood  began  to  flow 
from  their  backs,  and  then  boiling  oil  was  poured  into 
the  gaping  wounds.  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  vouch 
for  the  accuracy  of  these  statements.  I  can  only  say 
that  they  were  received  by  ever}^body  without  any 
expression  of  surprise.  Bastinado  and  the  thumbscrew 
are  not  things  of  the  past  in  Turkey,  as  is  commonly 
supposed.  Both  these  expedients  and  others,  suggested 
by  the  ingenuity  of  a  rapacious  tyranny,  are  frequently 
employed  for  extorting  evidence  from  stubborn  or 
innocently  ignorant  witnesses.  If  the  victims  are 
well-to-do  people,  torture  is  not  wasted,  as  they  are 
made  to  pay  for  their  release.  In  the  present  case  at 
all  events  the  notables  were  certain  to  prove  them- 
selves worthy  of  the  treatment ;  for  it  was  the  middle 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  PETRITZ  i6i 

of  the  threshing  season,  and  they  would  be  anxious  to 
go  back  to  the  occupations  on  which  their  year's 
income  entirely  depended. 

In  addition  to  the  prisoners  already  mentioned, 
Said  Bey — in  justice  to  him  be  it  said — brought  with 
him  a  lame  country  fellow,  officially  designated  as  a 
"suspect."  That  he  had  anything  to  do  with  the 
recent  outrages  no  one  pretended.  His  only  crime,  so 
far  as  I  could  gather,  was  his  lameness.  In  the  cross- 
examination  he  was  reported  to  have  stated  that  he 
was  a  peaceful  inhabitant  of  Tsaritsani,  who  some 
time  ago  had  met  with  an  accident  while  engaged  in  a 
harmless  attempt  to  lift  a  farmer's  cattle.  That  would 
have  been  sufficient  to  account  for  his  lame  leg.  But 
one  of  the  soldiers  swore  that  he  recognised  in  him  a 
member  of  the  band,  with  which  he  had  had  a  skirmish 
two  years  before.  In  fact,  the  lame  one  was  accused 
of  having  received  his  wound  during  an  attack  on  a 
wealthy  Bey's  estate,  and  of  having  been  hiding  in  the 
neighbourhood  all  this  time,  waiting  for  his  wound  to 
heal,  and  for  an  opportunity  of  joining  his  comrades. 
It  was  further  supposed  that  the  latter  would  have 
taken  him  with  them  during  their  recent  expedition, 
had  the  Kaimaham  not  been  so  energetic.  The  lame 
one  soon  relapsed  into  his  native  obscurity,  out  of 
which  his  Excellency's  eye  for  eflfect  had  lifted  him  for 
a  moment  to  adorn  his  triumph.  But  the  incident 
with  which  his  lameness  was  so  artistically  linked 
deserves  further  notice.  One  evening  I  had  a  graphic 
account  of  the  whole  affair  from  the  lips  of  the  very 
Bey  who  had  figured  at  once  as  the  victim  and  the 
hero  of  the  drama,  and  this  interview  will  form  the 
subject  of  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

TABLE-TALK  OF  HADJI  DEMIR  BEY 

Our  host  was  a  survival  of  the  old  feudal  regime,  and 
he  still  practised  some  of  the  virtues,  and  many  of  the 
vices,  of  his  extinct  class.  Hospitality  was  one  of  the 
former,  and  it  was  to  his  habit  of  keeping  open  house 
that  I  owed  the  opportunity  of  making  his  acquaint- 
ance. 

His  name,  being  interpreted,  signified  the  Iron 
Pilgrim,  and  his  appearance  did  not  belie  it.  Hadji 
Demir  Bey  was  a  man  over  sixty  years  of  age :  a  tall, 
sparely  -  built  Osmanli  completely  wrapped  in  silk 
draperies  and  solemn  decorum.  His  nose — long  and 
aquiline  in  shape — indicated  a  domineering  dispo- 
sition ;  his  deep-sunk  grey  eyes  wore  the  calm  and 
haughty  look  of  one  accustomed  to  a  first-class  seat  in 
this  world,  and  assured  of  like  accommodation  in  the 
next.  Now  and  again,  however,  they  would  sparkle 
with  a  light  of  no  heavenly  origin.  In  fact,  Hadji 
Demir  Bey  was  reputed  to  be  one  of  the  most  fanatical 
Mohammedans  in  the  district.  But  he  knew  well  how 
to  control  his  feelings.  On  ordinary  occasions  he 
disdained  not  the  society  of  infidels.  He  would  mix 
with  them,  eat  with  them,  and  alas  !  even  drink  with 
them.  All  this  in  spite  of  his  gold-broidered  turban 
and  title  of  Hadji,  both  souvenirs  of  a  weary  pil- 
grimage to  Mecca,  and  badges  of  supreme  holiness. 
Perhaps  on  these  occasions  he,  like  many  another  saint, 


TABLE-TALK  OF  HADJI  DEMIR  BEY       163 

issued  a  special  dispensation  to  himself.  Or,  haply,  he 
allowed  himself  to  indulge  in  the  wicked  ways  of  the 
infidels  with  a  mental  reservation  to  wash  off  the  stain 
in  their  own  blood  on  one  of  those  opportunities  which 
Providence — personified  in  the  Padishah — periodically 
offers  to  the  faithful.  However  that  may  be,  he 
availed  himself  of  our  presence  at  Petritz  to  invite 
us — Mr.  G.  and  myself — to  dinner. 

Previous  experiences  of  Oriental  hospitality  had 
imbued  me  with  the  conviction  that  a  dinner  with  a 
Bey,  if  it  is  to  be  followed  by  no  fatal  consequences, 
must  be  preceded  by  a  rigorous  fast.  Accordingly,  I 
abstained  that  day  from  food  almost  as  scrupulously  as 
if  I  were  a  Roman  Catholic  preparing  for  holy  com- 
munion. But  experience  is  no  safe  guide  in  a  land 
where  the  unexpected  rules  the  affairs  of  men,  and  I 
was  justly  punished  for  my  presumption. 

On  repairing  to  the  Bey's  dwelling  we  were  told 
that  the  house  was  full  of  Mohammedan  guests,  who, 
our  host  feared,  might  be  shocked  at  the  sight  of 
unbelievers.  He  therefore  begged  us  to  follow  him  to 
a  cottage  adjoining  a  mill  on  his  estate.  He  led  the 
way  up  a  narrow,  rickety  step-ladder  into  a  dark  little 
room.  The  miller,  a  Bulgar  of  gigantic  stature,  was 
ordered  to  bring  in  a  tin  lamp,  which  he  deposited 
upon  an  empty  petroleum  case.  This  table  and  a  few 
rush  mats  spread  over  the  floor  constituted  the  whole 
furniture  of  the  apartment.  We  sat  down  cross-legged 
upon  the  mats,  and  the  Bulgarian  giant  placed  before 
us  the  first  course.  It  consisted  of  a  bottle  of  arrack, 
a  jug  of  water,  and  a  jar  of  tobacco. 

It  was  a  still,  moonless  night.  The  stars  winked 
knowingly  at  us  through  the  small  unglazed  windows 
of  the  room,  while  upon  its  mud-plastered  walls  our 


1 64  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

shadows  danced  fantastic  figures,  elongated  and  com- 
plicated by  the  flickering  light  of  the  lamp.  The 
silence  was  made  audible  by  the  monotonous  "  tak-it, 
tak-it "  of  the  hopper,  which  sounded  with  curious  dis- 
tinctness above  the  murmur  of  the  mill-stream  outside. 
Without  seriously  impairing  my  chances  of  a  blissful 
immortality,  I  can  assert  that  a  more  weird  entertain- 
ment I  never  assisted  at  before  or  since.  The  saint 
had  evidently  issued  an  exceptionally  liberal  dispen- 
sation to  himself  that  evening.  For  hour  after  hour 
he  went  on  filling  and  emptying  his  glass,  filling  and 
refilling  his  tchihooh  He  only  interrupted  himself 
occasionally  to  enforce  his  example  upon  us  with  a 
fervid  exclamation  in  praise  of  the  beverage  and  the 
tobacco,  accompanied  by  a  pious  thanksgiving  to  Allah 
for  His  goodness.  The  fumes  of  arrack  and  native 
ferocity  gradually  wrought  their  wonted  work.  The 
old  pilgrim's  eyes  began  to  flash,  his  nostrils  dilated, 
and  he  launched  into  a  sparkling  description  of  the 
fight  with  the  brigands  already  alluded  to. 

He  told  us  how  he,  with  his  two  servants,  had  held 
out  for  six  hours  against  a  band  of  forty  who  had  laid 
siege  to  his  house.  How  he  had  scorned  their  sum- 
mons to  surrender ;  how  they  assailed  his  fortress ; 
how  they  were  repulsed ;  and  how  at  last  they  carried 
out  their  threat  and  set  fire  to  it.  "  The  flames  were 
all  round  us,  licking  the  walls  and  leaping  up  towards 
the  sky.  It  was  a  dark  night  like  this,  but  you  could 
see  yonder  mountains  by  the  light  of  the  fire  as  clearly 
as  you  see  the  palm  of  your  hand.  We  retreated  to 
the  stable  below,  and,  throwing  the  gate  open,  whipped 
the  horses  out.  How  frightened  the  poor  creatures 
were !  By  Allah  the  Compassionate  and  Merciful ! 
methinks  I  can  still  hear  their  neighing.     There  was 


TABLE-TALK  OF  HADJI  DEMIR  BEY        165 

a  bitch  in  the  stable,  too,  lying  upon  the  straw  with 
her  puppies.  Oh,  how  they  whined  and  howled,  enough 
to  break  a  heart  of  stone  !  When  I  opened  the  gate 
she  lifted  her  children  between  her  jaws,  and  one  by 
one  she  carried  them  out  through  the  flames.  But  as 
she  was  coming  in  for  the  last,  a  bullet  hit  her,  and 
she  fell  dead  at  my  feet.  Then  I  closed  the  gate 
again  and,  digging  a  hole  through  the  wall,  made  up 
my  mind  to  fire  my  last  shot  and  then  perish  beneath 
the  ruins  of  my  house.  But  Allah  is  great.  He 
directed  my  aim.  Off  went  the  rifle,  a  scream  came 
from  without,  and  then  all  was  silence.  The  brigands 
picked  up  their  wounded,  and  made  ojQf  in  haste.  I 
had  not  prayed  in  vain.  My  last  bullet  had  hit  their 
chief     Praise  be  to  Allah  !  " 

He  broke  off  as  abruptly  as  he  had  begun.  He 
drained  his  glass,  filled  it,  drained  it  again,  and  then 
shut  his  jaws  with  a  snap.  The  fire  went  out  of  his 
eyes — it  had  long  since  gone  out  of  his  pipe.  Now  he 
refilled  and  relit  it,  and  set  about  surrounding  himself 
with  clouds  of  smoke.  The  blood-curdling  nature  of 
the  narrative  accorded  well  with  the  savage  shabbiness 
of  the  dingy  room  and  with  the  stern  physiognomy  of 
the  narrator. 

It  was  near  eleven  o'clock  before  the  Bey  reached 
the  bottom  of  the  arrack  bottle  and  of  the  tobacco  jar. 
Then  he  bethought  him  that  we  might  have  something 
to  eat.  He  clapped  his  hands,  and  forthwith  the 
Bulgarian  giant  made  his  appearance  from  the  nether 
regions,  like  a  genie  at  the  summons  of  a  wizard.  He 
brought  in  a  huge  tray  containing  half  a  lamb  roasted 
with  rice,  and  placed  it  in  the  middle  of  our  circle. 
We  got  up  and  followed  our  host  to  a  disused  fire- 
place,  and  there   one   after   another   we   washed    our 


1 66  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

hands  with  water  poured  upon  them  by  the  giant 
from  a  ewer,  which  looked  ludicrously  small  in  his 
enormous  hands.  This  ablution  was  not  an  empty 
ceremony,  but  a  performance  of  absolute  necessity,  as 
I  found  as  soon  as  we  took  our  places  round  the 
steaming  meat.  There  were  neither  knives,  nor  forks, 
nor  aught  else  in  the  form  of  an  artificial  auxiliary 
to  the  apparatus  provided  by  nature.  The  bread  was 
broken  in  scriptural  fashion,  and  the  meat  was  mangled 
by  our  host's  talon-like  fingers  after  the  fashion  of  a 
bird  of  prey  breaking  a  long  and  rigid  fast.  To  make 
bad  worse,  the  Bey  insisted  on  conferring  marks  of 
favour  on  me  in  the  shape  of  choice  morsels,  which 
with  implacable  liberality  he  piled  on  my  side  of  the 
tray.  Yet  I  felt  nothing  but  gratitude  towards  him. 
Hunger  is  no  friend  to  fastidiousness,  and  it  now 
appeared  that  I  had  not  fasted  in  vain. 

The  pilgrim  knew,  by  hearsay,  enough  of  European 
habits  to  suspect  that  the  proceedings  might  perhaps 
impress  me  as  somewhat  primitive  ;  as  for  their  look- 
ing anything  worse,  it  certainly  never  entered  his 
hallowed  head. 

"Knives,"  he  explained  in  all  seriousness,  "  should 
never  be  used  to  cut  bread  with.  Bread  is  a  gift  from 
God,  and  it  would  be  a  sin  to  wound  it  with  steel." 

His  abhorrence  of  forks  was  accounted  for  in  a 
similar  way :  meat  also  is  a  divine  gift. 

"Besides,"  he  added,  "by  using  the  fingers,  which 
Allah  has  blessed  us  with,  we  enhance  the  pleasure 
of  eating.  For,  in  addition  to  the  senses  of  smell  and 
taste,  we  likewise  satisfy  the  sense  of  feeling." 

The  absence  of  plates  was  also  satisfactorily,  albeit 
mystically,  explained  : — 

"  As  there  is  one  God  and  one  Prophet,  so  there 


TABLE-TALK  OF  HADJI  DEMIR  BEY        167 

must  be  one  dish,  of  which  we  must  all  partake  in 
common  amity  " — and,  adding  example  to  precept,  he 
proceeded  to  scoop  a  handful  of  rice  out  of  the  tray 
and  convey  it  to  his  mouth. 

I  could  have  wished  that  there  were  a  little  less 
of  symbolism  and  a  great  deal  more  of  conventional 
decency  in  the  arrangements ;  but,  of  course,  I  said 
nothing,  and  only  tried  to  scoop  up  the  rice  with  the 
neat  dexterity  of  which  our  host  seemed  to  be  such 
a  consummate  master.  My  efforts  caused  him  great 
amusement,  and  earned  for  me  his  compassionate  in- 
terest. I  must  confess  they  were  not  entirely  suc- 
cessful. 

A  second  ablution  followed  at  the  end  of  the  meal, 
which,  to  judge  by  the  gurgling  and  rattling  which 
issued  from  the  pilgrim's  vulture  throat,  must  have 
afforded  his  saintly  stomach  unspeakable  enjoyment. 
These  utterances,  tabooed  among  us,  are  regarded  by 
the  Turks  as  the  very  quintessence  of  good-breeding, 
and  to  my  horror  my  companion,  Mr.  G.,  appeared  to 
be  not  only  an  adept,  but  also  an  enthusiastic  practi- 
tioner of  the  art.  He  afterwards  explained  to  me  that, 
as  I  did  not  know  how  to  do  it,  it  was  his  duty  to  do 
it  for  both,  or  else  our  host  would  have  conceived  a 
very  poor  opinion  of  European  politeness. 

Though,  naturally,  we  refrained  from  commenting 
on  the  pilgrim's  breach  of  the  precepts  of  the  Koran 
anent  drink,  he  seemed  to  feel  that  his  conduct  stood 
in  need  of  vindication,  and  he  accordingly  volunteered 
to  edify  us  with  the  following  homily  : — 

"You  have  surely  heard  of  Nasreddin  KhodjaV 

"Who  has  not  heard  of  the  great  sage?  The 
whole  world  rings  with  the  renown  of  his  wisdom," 
answered    courtly    Mr.     G.       I     remained     candidly 


1 68  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

bewildered ;  but,  in  obedience  to  an  eloquent  nudge 
from  my  companion's  elbow,  I  shook  my  head  vigo- 
rously in  the  affirmative,  though,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
the  gentleman  in  question  was  a  perfect  stranger  to 
me  at  the  time. 

"  Well,"  pursued  the  pilgrim,  after  having  secured 
the  ear  of  the  House,  "  in  my  opinion,  which  ought 
to  carry  some  weight,  seeing  that  I  am  a  man  ancient 
of  days,  and  have  been  to  holy  Mecca " 

"  Indeed  it  does,  O  Bey  !  "     This  from  Mr.  G. 

"  In  my  opinion  the  wisest  thing  Nasreddin  Khodja 
ever  uttered  was  on  a  certain  occasion,  which  is  as 
follows.  On  one  of  the  days,  a  poor  parishioner  of 
his  came  to  Nasreddin  and  said :  '  O  Khodja,  I  have 
lost  my  ass.  So  may  Allah  prolong  and  prosper  thy 
life,  help  me  to  recover  the  beast,  or,  the  Blessed 
Prophet  be  my  witness,  I  shall  verily  starve.'  The 
Khodja,  whose  heart  was  as  soft  as " 

"  His  head,"  I  ventured  to  suggest. 

" a  well-ripened    melon,"    emended   the    Bey, 

severely,  "  took  compassion  on  the  poor  peasant,  and 
promised  to  assist  him.  Next  Friday,  after  sermon,  he 
stood  up  in  the  pulpit  and,  addressing  the  congregation, 
said  :  *  Oh  ye  true  believers,  is  there  any  one  amongst 
you  who  has  never  drunk  coffee  or  arrack,  who  has 
never  smoked  tchibook  or  narghileh,  who  has  never 
played  at  cards  or  dice,  who  has  never  indulged  in 
any  pleasure  whatsoever?  If  there  be  such  a  one,  let 
him  step  forward.'  The  believers,  assembled  in  the 
mosque,  each  and  all  reviewed  their  past  lives  mentally, 
but  none  durst  step  forward  ;  for  they  had  all  been,  at 
some  time  or  another,  guilty  of  the  sins  enumerated 
by  the  Khodja.  At  last  one  stepped  boldly  out  of  the 
crowd  and  said  :   '  Behold  me,  O  Khodja,  I  have  never 


TABLE-TALK  OF  HADJI  DEMIR  BEY        169 

in  my  life  tasted  drink  or  smoke.  I  have  never  gambled 
nor  indulged  in  any  other  pleasure  vrhatsoever.'  When 
Nasreddin  heard  this  speech,  he  looked  round  and 
said  :  '  Where  is  the  man  who  has  lost  his  ass  ? '  The 
peasant  stood  up.  Then  the  Khodja,  pointing  to 
the  speaker,  said :  '  Behold  the  animal  which  thou 
seekest.' 

"That  is  exactly  my  opinion  on  the  subject,"  con- 
cluded our  host,  and  we,  as  in  courtesy  bound,  ap- 
plauded his  breadth  of  mind. 

Perhaps  I  ought  to  mention  that  the  sage,  so  aptly 
quoted  by. the  Bey,  is  a  fourteenth-century  worthy — 
half  moralist,  half  buffoou — on  whom  are  fathered  all 
sorts  of  humorous  stories  and  witty  sayings,  many  of 
them  strongly  flavoured  with  the  spirit  known  to  us 
as  Hibernian.  These  anecdotes,  swelled  by  constant 
additions,  are  very  popular  all  over  the  Mohammedan 
world,  and  have  afforded  innocent  merriment  to  count- 
less generations  of  Turks,  Persians,  Arabs,  and  Egyp- 
tians. A  translation  of  them  would  suffice  to  absolve 
the  Oriental  mind  of  the  inability  to  appreciate  the 
ludicrous  side  of  things,  which  is  generally  imputed 
to  it  by  ignorant  Occidentals.  A  Turk  has  many  sins 
to  answer  for,  but  want  of  humour  is  certainly  not  one 
of  them,  though  he  is  unequal  to  the  exertion  involved 
by  laughter.  His  humour  is  of  a  passive  character, 
and  he  likes  to  take  his  jokes  sadly. 

The  moon  was  setting — in  the  dialect  of  civilisation 
it  was  about  twelve  o'clock — as  we  left  the  Bey's  abode. 
The  Bulgarian  giant  escorted  us  home  with  a  lantern 
of  proportionable  dimensions  in  one  hand  and  a  rusty 
revolver  in  the  other. 

Dyspepsia  was  my  bedfellow  throughout  the  ambro- 
sial night.     My  dreams  were  many  and  incongruous ; 


I70  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

brigands  and  giants  figured  largely  in  them ;  but  the 
din  of  battle  was  diversified  by  the  occasional  brayings 
of  an  abstemious  ass.  Beneath  this  turmoil  I  was 
dimly  conscious  of  a  low  intermittent  tune  which, 
without  exactly  being  either  the  sound  of  flute  or 
the  screaming  of  bagpipe,  seemed  to  combine  the 
peculiar  characteristics  of  both  instruments.  In  the 
morning  it  turned  out  that  it  was  due  to  the  exertions 
of  an  orchestra  of  orphaned  kittens,  which  some  neigh- 
bour had  cast  out  to  perish  under  my  windows.  It 
must  have  been  the  act  of  a  Christian. 

The  Turk  is  proverbial  for  his  kindness  to  four- 
legged  creatures.  His  affection  for  cats  especially  is 
such  as  any  old  maid  would  rejoice  to  witness.  This 
predilection  for  feline  creation  is  traditionally  traced 
to  the  founder  of  the  Moslem  faith  himself.  It  is 
related  that  the  Prophet  was  once  summoned  to  attend 
a  council.  But  he  found  that,  if  he  rose  from  his 
couch,  he  would  disturb  the  repose  of  his  favourite 
puss,  which  was  purring  on  his  sleeve.  He  solved  the 
problem  in  his  characteristic  manner  :  If  the  cat  would 
not  depart  from  Mohammed's  sleeve,  Mohammed's 
sleeve  would  remain  with  the  cat.  He  drew  his 
scimitar  and  amputated  from  his  garment  the  limb 
appropriated  by  the  animal. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 
A    CHRISTIAN    FAIR 

Next  day  was  the  eve  of  the  Feast  of  the  Panaghia — 
in  ecclesiastical  parlance  the  Nativity  of  the  God- 
mother— one  of  the  principal  festivals  of  the  year. 
All  day  long  caravans  of  rustics  from  the  neighbouring 
villages  streamed  into  the  town,  some  mounted  on 
mules,  others  on  horses  or  donkeys.  The  women 
generally  walked  with  their  infants  slung  across  their 
backs,  and  their  shoes  in  their  hands.  Their  hard- 
featured  faces,  tanned  by  the  summer  sun  and  pinched 
by  the  frost  of  winter,  and  their  air  of  weariness  in- 
dicated anything  but  a  festive  frame  of  mind.  To  me 
they  looked  like  a  troop  of  wayworn  pilgrims  doing 
penance,  rather  than  like  a  party  seeking  pleasure. 

Many  of  these  women  had  the  sign  of  the  cross 
tattooed  between  their  eyebrows.  At  first  I  took  this 
to  be  a  misguided  attempt  at  personal  embellishment ; 
but  I  was  subsequently  informed  that  it  was  a  brand 
imprinted  in  early  youth,  so  that  they  might  be 
identified  as  Christians  and  reclaimed  as  such,  should 
they  be  abducted  by  a  Mohammedan  and  forced  to 
join  his  harem.  Prospective  abductions  of  girls  of 
tender  age  are  not  uncommon.  At  Salonica  I  met 
an  elderly  Mohammedan  fortune-teller  who  mystified 
me  by  frequent  allusions  to  the  Virgin  Mary  and 
Christ.  After  a  few  leading  questions  she  confessed 
that  she  was  a  Thessalian  by  birth,  and  that  her  late 


172  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

not-lamented  lord  had  carried  her  off  from  her  parents' 
home,  when  she  was  about  twelve  years  old.  She  had 
a  brother  living  at  Athens,  and,  were  it  not  for  love  of 
her  son  and  fear  of  her  daughter-in-law,  both  staunch 
Mohammedans,  she  would  join  her  brother  and  "save 
her  soul  by  a  timely  return  to  the  faith  of  her  fathers." 

Before  the  split  of  the  Christian  community  of 
Petritz  into  two  hostile  factions,  the  festival  used  to 
be  celebrated  on  a  common  ground.  But  now  the 
Bulgarian  section  insisted  on  holding  it  in  the  quad- 
rangle of  the  church,  which  they  had  wrested  from  the 
Greeks.  Their  perversity  roused  the  wrath  of  the 
latter ;  for  the  quadrangle  in  question  is  the  common 
burial-place  of  the  town,  and  revelling  among  the 
tombs  was  regarded  by  the  Greeks  as  a  desecration. 
They,  therefore,  petitioned  the  Kaimakam  to  put  a 
stop  to  the  scandal,  pointing  out  that  it  might  lead  to 
a  disturbance,  the  consequences  of  which  could  easily 
be  foreseen.  The  Kaimakam,  however,  was  on  that 
day  away  on  his  famous  campaign,  and  the  Police 
Commissary  was  either  unable  or  unwilling  to  interfere. 
So  the  Bulgarians  were  allowed  on  the  eve  to  dance 
over  the  remains  of  their  own,  as  well  as  of  their 
opponents'  ancestors  to  their  hearts'  content.  But 
on  the  following  day  the  authorities  obliged  them  to 
let  the  dead  alone.  The  policy  of  the  authorities  was 
supposed  to  have  been  dictated  by  the  desire  to  keep 
on  good  terms  with  both  parties,  from  both  of  whom 
they  had  accepted  a  bribe.  The  result,  of  course,  was 
that  they  earned  the  cordial  anathemas  of  both. 

In  the  evening  Mr.  G.  and  myself  visited  the  scene 
of  the  merry-making,  where  we  were  soon  joined  by 
the  versatile  schoolmaster,  who  was  in  his  native 
element  here,  and  by  an  Albanian  gentleman  in  the 


A  CHRISTIAN  FAIR  173 

government  service,  who  was  introduced  to  me  as 
"  the  only  man  in  the  Sultan's  employ  who  had  never 
been  known  to  '  eat  money.' "  The  man  acknowledged 
the  doubtful  eulogy  with  a  grin,  which  showed  how 
much  he  deserved  it.  In  the  company  of  these  curious 
representatives  of  a  unique  political  situation  I  explored 
the  jpaneghyri. 

Booths  for  drinks  and  stalls  for  sweetmeats  stood 
ranged  round  the  sides  of  the  open  space.  Lambs 
were  roasted  whole  on  spits  extemporised  out  of  rude 
stakes,  and  then  the  rose-coloured  carcasses  were  flung 
upon  wooden  dressers,  dissected,  weighed,  and  sold 
piecemeal.  Meat  even  in  this  comparatively  pros- 
perous district  is  by  no  means  an  everyday  luxury. 
Bread  and  onions  or  fruit  constitute  the  ordinary 
peasant's  usual  diet.  This  compulsory  vegetarianism, 
coupled  with  the  strict  fast  enjoined  by  the  Church  as 
a  preparation  for  all  great  feasts,  goes  far  to  account 
for  the  carnivorous  impetuosity  displayed  by  the  people 
on  festive  occasions. 

Parties  of  men  were  scattered  here  and  there,  eat- 
ing, drinking,  and  smoking  by  the  light  of  torches,  or 
even  in  the  dark.  The  women  were  dressed  in  gaudy 
tunics  and  long  heavy  cloaks,  so  cut  as  to  allow  the 
embroidered  borders  of  the  nether  garment  to  exhibit 
their  red  splendour  to  advantage.  Flowers,  natural 
and  artificial,  adorned  their  headgear ;  and  strings  of 
silver  pieces  were  plaited  into  their  long  braids  of  hair, 
dangled  over  their  foreheads,  jingled  round  their  necks, 
and  glittered  on  their  bosoms.  Their  waists  were  en- 
circled with  girdles,  buckled  with  massive  silver  clasps. 
One  would  have  thought,  what  probably  was  the  case, 
that  these  maidens  carried  all  their  dowry  about  them. 
Notwithstanding  this  weight  of  wool  and  metal,  they 


174  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

danced  with  great  perseverance  and  an  air  of  truly 
Christian  resignation.  Bagpipes — the  favourite  in- 
strument of  the  Bulgarian — supplied  the  local  equiva- 
lent for  music.  Bound  this  squealing  band  a  wide 
circle  footed  it  slowly  and  exceedingly  stupidly.  Both 
sexes  were  represented  in  the  ring ;  but  they  were 
rigorously  separated  by  the  barrier  of  a  handkerchief. 
The  dance  consisted  of  one  step  forward,  one  backward, 
and  one  to  the  side,  without  any  variation  whatsoever. 
A  melancholy  refrain  Sosjnta  Yanno,  Sospita  Yanno, 
drawled  out  in  sleepy  and  sleep-begetting  tones,  ac- 
companied the  sad  measure.  This  continued  far  into 
the  night. 

But  the  young  ladies'  unwearied  efforts  were  not 
wholly  wasted.  Many  a  youth's  heart  was  moved  to 
matrimouial  yearnings  by  their  grace,  or  their  capacity 
for  enduring  fatigue,  or  perhaps  by  the  jingle  of  their 
silver  coins,  and  ere  the  evening  was  over  many  a 
match  was  arranged  between  bridegrooms  and  brides' 
parents.  There  was  nothing  peculiar  in  these  bargains, 
except  the  nature  of  the  merchandise.  In  one  case 
the  bridegroom  agreed  to  pay  for  the  maid  of  his 
choice  £t.2,  ',  in  another  he  beat  his  future  father-in- 
law  down  to  ^T.2i.  The  average  price  of  a  Mace- 
donian cow  is,  I  believe,  .;^T.5. 

Long  after  the  dance  had  broken  up,  and  the  music 
ceased,  the  carousal  continued  with  unabated  vigour. 
Wives,  lantern  in  hand,  now  came  in  search  of  their 
erring  partners  : — 

"Come  home,  and  don't  you  get  drunk  as  you  did 
last  year,"  I  heard  an  old  lady  behind  me  exhorting 
her  worse  half.  Neither  her  eloquence,  however,  nor 
her  pertinent  allusions  to  a  former  catastrophe  ap- 
peared to  have  any  effect  on  her  besotted  spouse. 


A  CHRISTIAN  FAIR  175 

"  Let  me  finish  this  bottle  first.  I  have  paid  for 
it,"  pleaded  the  culprit,  appealing  with  the  ingenuity 
of  the  inebriate  to  his  wife's  practical  side.  I  am  glad 
to  be  able  to  report  that  he  carried  both  his  point  and 
his  liquor  as  a  man  should. 

The  Kaimakam  had  ordered  an  officer  of  police  to 
see  us  safely  home  with  a  couple  of  zaptiehs.  It  was 
only  a  quarter  of  a  mile's  walk  to  our  inn ;  but  his 
Excellency  knew  the  negative  value  of  our  persons  too 
well  to  allow  the  least  margin  to  chance.  Our  escort, 
though  well  armed,  was  not  provided  with  a  lantern, 
and  our  walk  consequently  was  a  series  of  stumblings 
against  stones,  plungings  into  puddles,  and  exclama- 
tions suitable  to  the  occasion.  But  no  accident 
befell  us. 

The  proceedings  on  the  eve  were  only  a  feeble 
preamble  to  the  ineffable  glory  of  the  feast  itself.  On 
the  following  day  the  women  of  the  town  made  their 
appearance  on  the  public  dancing-ground,  and  their 
superior  radiance  utterly  eclipsed  the  rustic  dancers  of 
the  previous  evening.  In  lieu  of  the  cumbrous  cloak, 
these  dames  and  damsels  were  attired  in  long  puffed 
skirts  with  richly-embroidered  aprons  hanging  in  front. 
Gilt  belts  girt  their  waists,  and  coins  of  gold,  instead 
of  plebeian  silver,  adorned  their  necks.  Their  hair, 
deeply  dyed  with  henna,  was  parted  in  the  middle,  and 
three  braids  hung  behind  from  under  the  folds  of  a 
shiny  silk  kerchief.  But  their  principal  claim  to  ad- 
miration undoubtedly  lay  in  the  short  fur-lined  jackets 
in  which  they  stewed  comfortably  despite  the  stifling 
heat.  Thus  caparisoned  they  danced  the  sIoav  sleepy 
step  described  already.  The  male  portion  of  the  ring, 
however,  seemed  to  be  less  inanimate  than  on  the 
evening  before.      The  gentlemen  hopped  in  front,  first 


176  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

on  one  leg  and  then  on  the  other ;  they  kicked  grace- 
fully forward,  backward,  and  sideways ;  they  swayed  to 
and  fro,  and  so  the  chain  moved  on  by  jerks,  which 
grew  fainter  and  fainter,  dying  out  in  a  timid  half-step 
ere  they  reached  the  female  ranks.  New-comers  joined 
by  degrees,  and  the  chain  slowly  developed  into  a 
glittering  serpent  of  many  coils. 

The  day  ended  without  bloodshed,  and  the  aspiring 
schoolmaster  was  mad  with  grief. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

A   MOHAMMEDAN   FETE 

A  FEW  days  after  my  arrival  at  Petritz  I  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  assisting  at  a  Mohammedan  ceremony  of  an 
exceptionally  solemn  nature,  namely,  the  circumcision 
of  three  sons  of  the  head  Mullah,  a  sacred  personage 
whose  position  in  the  Mohammedan  world,  broadly 
speaking,  corresponds  to  that  of  a  Christian  bishop. 
The  ceremony  was,  as  usual,  accompanied  by  great 
rejoicings  in  the  Turkish  fashion,  which  has  nothing 
to  do  with  gaiety  or  laughter,  or  any  other  unseemly 
exhibition  of  emotion.  Strict,  stern,  stony  decorum  is 
the  keynote  to  all  Turkish  fetes,  and  this  one  was  no 
exception  to  the  rule. 

We  repaired  to  an  open  space  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  town,  where  the  sports  were  to  take  place,  and 
found  the  happy  and  reverend  father  with  the  Kai- 
makam,  seated  between  two  rippling  fountains  under 
the  wide-spreading  boughs  of  a  colossal  plane-tree. 
The  Major  of  the  Gendarmerie  and  other  high  officials 
were  sitting  on  either  side.  Beyond  this  row  of  civil, 
religious,  and  military  notabilities  were  spread  rush 
mats  for  the  accommodation  of  inferior  guests,  who  sat 
cross-legged,  feeling,  I  suspected,  much  happier  than 
their  betters,  upon  whom  dignity  forced  the  discomfort 
of  an  upright  posture  on  European  chairs.  A  miscel- 
laneous mob  of  soldiers,  schoolboys,  and  idlers  of  all 
persuasions    squatted    at   a   respectful    distance    upon 

'77  M 


178  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

the  bare  ground  ;  while  many  little  girls  in  petticoat- 
trousers,  and  hair,  finger-tips,  and  nails  resplendent 
with  henna,  sprawled  gracefully  in  the  dust.  The 
victims  of  the  scissors,  from  six  to  nine  years  of  age, 
sat  stiffly  behind  their  father,  arrayed  in  new  Frank 
suits,  and  fezes  glittering  with  tassels  of  gold  thread 
and  strings  of  golden  coins. 

After  a  period  spent  in  silent  and  thoughtless  medi- 
tation, accompanied  with  volum.es  of  smoke,  we  heard 
a  terrific  rumbling  and  shrieking  from  the  west : 

"Massacre?"  whispered  I  to  my  companion, 
anxiously. 

"No,  music,"  he  answered,  with  a  noble  com- 
posure. 

At  the  first  sound  of  the  band  a  herald  sprang  up, 
and  in  tones  stentorian  announced  that  the  pehlevans, 
or  wrestlers,  were  coming.  A  pole,  hung  with  silk 
handkerchiefs  and  sashes,  was  produced  and  planted 
close  to  the  plane-tree,  and  a  big  ram,  with  long  spiral 
horns  clothed  in  gold-leaf,  was  tied  to  the  trunk  of 
the  tree.     These  were  the  prizes  for  the  victors. 

Meanwhile  the  uproar  grew  quite  ear-rending.  It 
issued  from  a  couple  of  monster  drums  and  a  number 
of  reed-flutes.  The  first  thundered  and  the  second 
shrieked  under  the  lusty  handling  of  a  party  of  gipsy 
musicians,  who  seemed  to  be  convinced  that  harmony 
depended  on  the  amount  of  sound  produced  within 
a  given  space  of  time.     Perhaps  their  pay  did. 

While  the  band  made  noise,  three  champions 
entered  the  arena.  They  stripped  to  the  waist  and 
tucked  up  their  breeches,  assisted  by  admiring  friends. 
Their  toilet  completed,  they  began  to  pace  round  and 
round,  scanning  each  other  with  furtively  fierce  looks, 
after  the  manner   of  pugnacious   cocks    taking   each 


A  MOHAMMEDAN  F^TE  179 

other's  measure  before  they  engage  in  mortal  combat. 
Then  they  proceeded  to  test  each  other's  muscles  and 
joints,  with  the  air  of  a  farmer  critically  examining 
the  limbs  of  a  horse  in  a  country  fair.  As  a  result  of 
this  investigation  one  of  them  dropped  out,  and  the 
remaining  two  interlocked  their  arms  in  a  firm  grip. 
One  of  the  combatants  was  a  gipsy,  a  slim,  copper- 
coloured  lad,  while  the  other  was  a  Turk,  equally  slim, 
but  cream-coloured.  The  struggle  did  not  last  long. 
Both  the  athletes,  as  if  by  tacit  agreement,  sank  to 
the  ground,  then  they  both  rose  to  their  feet,  lifted 
each  other  up  in  the  air,  and  ended  by  coming  round 
to  us  with  fez  in  hand.  It  was  evidently  a  draw,  and 
possibly  a  sell. 

Then  a  second  pair  arose :  a  gipsy  and  a  Turk 
again,  both  well-developed,  sinewy  men.  They  grap- 
pled and  tugged  at  each  other,  until  they  both  fell 
prone  upon  the  sand.  Streams  of  blood  soon  began  to 
flow  from  the  cuts  on  their  foreheads  inflicted  by  the 
sharp  stones  which  lay  scattered  over  the  arena.  Their 
seconds  wiped  ofl"  the  blood  and  moistened  their  lips 
with  water ;  after  which  they  resumed  their  position 
on  the  ground.  The  gipsy  was  now  on  top ;  but  he 
could  not  claim  the  victory  until  he  had  turned  his 
adversary  over  on  his  back,  a  condition  with  which  the 
latter  did  not  seem  anxious  to  comply.  Thus  they 
remained  rigidly  fixed  for  many  long  minutes,  and  the 
sweat  began  to  ooze  out  in  big  glittering  drops  upon 
the  gipsy's  swarthy  neck.  Their  muscles  strained  and 
swelled,  their  chests  heaved,  and  their  breath  came 
and  went  in  deep  hoarse  gasps ;  but  neither  would 
relinquish  his  hold.  After  a  while,  however,  the 
gipsy  took  advantage  of  a  momentary  relaxation  on 
the    other's  part   and    floored   him.      Whereupon  the 


i8o  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

spectators  expressed  their  admiration  with  an  appre- 
ciative ha ! 

Many  more  pairs  wrestled  and  lost  and  won.  There 
came  many  more  "locked  intertwinings,  and  deadly 
blows  of  the  forehead,  and  groans,"  yet  the  long  strife 
did  not  tire  the  spectators.  Hour  after  hour  dragged 
tediously  on,  until  the  sun  began  to  decline  toward 
the  west,  and  I  began  to  wax  hungry.  So  I  prevailed 
on  Mr.  G.  to  slip  away  to  dinner,  and  leave  the  rest 
to  continue  the  performance  by  moonlight. 

Besides  the  Mullah's  children  several  other  boys 
of  poor  co-religionists  were  on  that  day  initiated  into 
the  mysteries  of  Islam  at  the  Mullah's  own  expense. 
The  ceremony  corresponds  to  the  Christian  baptism 
in  solemnity,  only  it  takes  place  at  a  much  later  period 
of  a  child's  life,  and,  of  course,  is  confined  to  one  sex. 
It  commences  at  the  mosque  in  the  presence  of  the 
Imam,  who  reads  the  prayers  suitable  to  the  occasion, 
and,  altogether,  performs  the  spiritual  part  of  the 
operation  ;  while  the  surgical  part  is  entrusted  to  a 
barber.  For  barbers  in  Turkey  are  not  the  humble, 
hair-splitting  pygmies  whom  we  know  in  modern 
Europe.  A  Turkish  barber  still  is  an  exalted  indi- 
vidual, embodying  in  his  own  person  the  threefold 
attributes  of  tonsor,  dentist,  and  surgeon.  In  other 
words,  he  shaves  your  head,  draws  your  teeth,  sets 
your  bones,  and  upon  occasion  assists  in  the  religious 
operation  which  the  Mullah's  children  had  just  under- 
gone. Meanwhile,  the  boy's  attention  is  distracted, 
and  the  little  fellow  is  lured  into  the  faith  by  expedients 
analogous  to  those  by  which  an  English  child  is  lured 
into  having  its  photograph  taken. 


CHAPTEE  XX 

THE  PEOPLE  OF  PETRITZ 

My  residence  at  Petritz  proved  prolific  of  interesting 
experiences.  Every  day  and  almost  every  hour  brought 
with  it  something  new,  something  that  presented  to 
my  view  a  fresh  aspect  of  the  life  of  the  place. 

By  this  time  I  was  thoroughly  inured  to  early 
rising,  and  was  always  up  in  time  to  watch  the  sun 
emerge  from  behind  the  mountains  and  spread  his 
crimson  mantle  across  the  valley  and  over  the  opposite 
ridges.  From  my  window  I  could  see  the  interior  of 
a  house  over  the  way.  The  front  of  the  hall  was 
quite  open,  and  only  sheltered  by  a  low  railing.  No 
matter  how  early  I  rose,  there  always  were  two  or 
three  women  in  the  hall  hard  at  work  carding  wool, 
spinning,  and  weaving.  The  grating  of  the  cards,  the 
creaking  of  the  loom,  and  the  whirr  of  the  spinning- 
wheel  reached  me  from  the  distance,  mingled  not 
unpleasantly  with  the  cooing  of  the  turtle-dove,  which 
was  the  prevailing  note  of  the  place.  For  Petritz, 
though  twice  the  size  of  Melenik,  is  essentially  rural 
in  its  appearance  and  in  the  ways  of  its  inhabi- 
tants. The  streets  are  usually  packed  with  sheep 
and  goats,  cows,  donkeys,  and  geese.  Women  lounge 
about  knitting  thick  woollen  socks  with  enormous 
steel  needles,  while  gipsy  children  in  the  brown  garb 
bestowed  on  them  by  Mother  Nature,  sprawl  in  the  thin 
stream  which  trickles  down  the  main  thoroughfare. 

i8i 


1 82  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

The  houses  make  no  pretence  to  architectural 
style,  but  are  simply  and  unaffectedly  ugly.  They 
are  built  of  rough  boulders,  picked  from  the  river- 
bed and  cemented  together  with  mud  and  straw.  The 
ground  floor  is  paved  with  earth,  and  it  is  always  used 
for  the  storing  of  produce  and  the  stabling  of  cattle. 
Piles  of  yellow  melons  and  pumpkins  rise  from  the 
ground,  and  close  to  them  an  ox  or  an  ass  may  be 
seen  chewing  the  cud  of  resignation.  The  upper 
storey  is  reached  on  the  outside  by  a  ladder-like 
stair  reeling  heavenwards,  and  it  serves  as  the  home 
of  the  family.  But  even  in  this  domestic  sanctuary 
one  not  unfrequently  finds  the  rafters  thickly  hung 
with  rich  golden  cones  of  maize,  or  with  strings 
of  onions  and  garlic  drying  in  the  draught ;  a 
really  picturesque  though  not  exactly  fragrant  kind  of 
tapestry. 

The  district  is  famous  for  the  production  of  a 
peculiar  species  of  a  big,  hard-skinned,  red  grape, 
which  ripens  late  and  lasts  long  into  the  winter.  A 
large  export  trade  in  this  and  other  fruit  is  carried 
on,  and  has  recently  received  an  additional  stimulus 
by  the  construction  of  the  Salonica-Dedeagatch  Rail- 
way. This  modern  improvement  has  already  shifted 
the  centres  of  commerce  in  Macedonia,  and  it  is  fast 
obliterating  many  old  and  familiar  landmarks.  Inns 
once  flourishing  have  fallen  to  decay,  and  townships 
once  of  the  first  importance  have  been  relegated  to  a 
secondary  rank.  On  the  other  hand,  localities  until 
yesterday  obscure  have  suddenly  risen  to  eminence. 
Petritz  is  one  of  these  fortunate  upstarts,  and  its  in- 
habitants are  making  the  most  of  their  opportuni- 
ties. Despite  political  agitation,  extortion,  brigandage, 
kaimakams,  policemen,  and  other  blessings  of  Turkish 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  PETRITZ  183 

administration,  the    place   shows   signs   of  great   and 
growing  prosperity. 

The  population  is  half  Mohammedan  and  half 
Christian.  The  latter,  as  has  been  stated  already, 
is  largely  Bulgar,  and  is  distinguished  by  the  patient 
thrift  and  unenterprising  industry  peculiar  to  the 
peasantry  of  that  race.  Their  ways  are  slow  but 
sure.  They  are  emphatically  sons  of  the  soil,  to 
which  they  seem  to  be  as  firmly  rooted  as  are  the 
trees  and  maize-stalks  amid  which  they  live.  Their 
faces  are  careworn,  sunburnt,  and  deeply  furrowed ; 
their  backs  are  bent  with  continuous  stooping.  The 
gift  of  eloquence  is  not  theirs ;  but,  in  revenge,  they 
are  endowed  with  a  capacity  for  steady,  unremitting 
toil  which  their  more  brilliant  Greek  neighbours 
possess  not.  The  young  Greek  peasant's  ambition 
is  to  betake  himself  as  early  as  possible  to  the  biggest 
town  within  his  reach,  and  to  become  either  a  scholar 
or  a  tradesman,  but  at  any  rate  to  become  a  townsman. 
The  Bulgar  never  dreams  that  there  is  a  world  beyond 
the  limits  of  his  farm,  or,  if  he  happens  to  have  a  hazy 
notion  of  its  existence,  he  feels  no  desire  to  join  it. 
There  is  good,  solid,  though  somewhat  coarse,  stuff  in 
these  Slav-Tartar  hinds,  and  under  a  less  shocking 
regime  they  would  no  doubt  develop  into  extremely 
useful  and  productive,  if  unornamental,  members  of 
society. 

The  Mohammedans  of  Petritz  are  for  the  most  part 
mere  circumcised  Slavs,  differing  from  their  Christian 
neighbours  only  by  the  mode  of  life  imposed  upon 
them  by  their  creed.  Their  women  are  kept  in  much 
stricter  seclusion  than  is  the  custom  among  the  Moham- 
medans of  comparatively  civilised  centres  like  Con- 
stantinople and  Salonica.     Few  of  them  are  to  be  seen 


1 84  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

about  in  the  streets,  and  these  are  only  seen  in  the 
sense  in  which  a  mummy  is  seen  before  it  is  divested 
of  its  multitudinous  wrappings  and  bandages.  They 
are  always  muffled  up  in  a  way  which  allows  nothing 
but  a  glimpse  of  a  bare  ankle  and  an  infinitesimal 
fraction  of  one  eye  to  flash  on  the  surface.  Over  and 
above  the  ordinary  yashmak  and  feredje  these  miser- 
able victims  of  a  jealous  convention  have  to  wear  a 
kind  of  night-shirt,  drawn  closely  over  the  head,  with 
a  pair  of  short  sleeves  swinging  behind.  Sometimes 
the  breeze  fills  these  appendages,  making  them  bulge 
out  and  bob  up  and  down,  not  unlike  the  ears  of  an 
ass  in  a  state  of  spiritual  exultation.  If  they  see  a 
male  passenger,  and  especially  an  unbeliever,  approach- 
ing, these  ladies  politely  turn  their  back  to  him  and 
stand  still,  with  their  nose  flattened  against  the  wall, 
until  he  is  out  of  sight. 

In  the  cosmopolitan  towns  on  the  coast  things  are 
a  little  better.  There,  owing  to  Western  influences, 
the  impenetrable  yashmak  has  dwindled  to  a  thin, 
transparent  veil,  through  the  delicate  texture  of  which 
it  is  easy  to  obtain  more  than  a  glimpse  of  the  face 
which  it  covers  without  concealing.  Nay,  the  owner 
of  a  beautiful  countenance  will,  if  time  and  place 
permit,  occasionally  volunteer  to  gratify  the  stranger's 
aesthetic  curiosity  to  the  full.  A  soft,  not  unmusical 
voice,  ending  in  a  silvery  ripple,  makes  you,  unless, 
indeed,  you  are  a  monster  "  begot  of  an  ancient  oak 
or  a  rock,"  turn  round.  The  picture  which  meets  your 
eye  is  not  likely  to  be  soon  efi"aced  from  your  memory. 
Imagine  a  long  oval  face  of  a  whiteness  which  defies 
the  plumage  of  the  swan  ;  a  pair  of  black  fathomless 
eyes,  in  which  laughter  and  mischief  wrestle  for 
mastery,  peering  at  you  from  beneath  the  pent  of  the 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  PETRITZ  185 

most  exquisitely  curved  eyelashes  that  poet  ever 
dreamt  of;  and  a  pair  of  rosy  lips  parted  to  reveal 
a  double  row  of  shining  pearls.  Now  enclose  this 
face  in  the  frame  of  an  arm,  such  as  Phidias  might 
have  chosen  for  a  model,  gracefully  uplifted  in  the  act 
of  holding  the  veil  over  the  smooth  low  forehead,  and 
— the  curtain  has  dropped,  the  vision  is  gone. 

Ere  you  have  recovered  the  use  of  your  tongue, 
the  owner  of  the  wondrous  visage  is  round  the  corner. 
You  follow,  you  see  the  end  of  a  flowing  cloak  vanish 
behind  a  door,  you  quicken  your  pace,  and  you  hear 
a  smothered  chuckle  issuing  from  a  lattice  window 
aloft.  This  is  as  high  as  the  infidel  may  aspire  to 
climb  in  the  fair  hanoum's  favour,  and  this  is  all  the 
veracious  historian  has  to  tell.  Sensational  interviews 
with  the  mysterious  inmates  of  the  harem  are  only 
possible  in  the  realms  of  the  Arabian  Nights,  and 
in  the  narratives  of  professional  travellers. 


CHAPTER    XXI 
AMONG    THE    GIPSIES 

During  the  whole  of  my  stay  at  Petritz  the  authorities 
did  not  cease  to  take  a  profound  and  most  irritating 
interest  in  my  doings.  The  innkeeper  had  daily  in- 
terviews with  the  Commissary  of  Police,  who  evinced 
the  greatest  possible  anxiety  concerning  the  manner 
in  which  I  employed  my  time,  the  persons  whom  I 
met,  and  so  forth.  He  was  especially  consumed  by 
an  unholy  desire  to  know  whether  I  made  use  of  such 
suspicious  articles  as  maps  and  notebooks.  On  the 
day  following  the  feast  his  solicitude  for  my  welfare 
culminated  in  a  polite  request  to  depart,  as  he  could 
no  longer  guarantee  my  safety.  I  entreated  him  not 
to  trouble  himself  on  that  score,  intimating  that  I 
was  not  yet  ready  for  departure.  There  were  two  or 
three  things  which  I  wanted  to  see  before  leaving  the 
place. 

One  of  these  things  was  a  gipsy  camp  outside  the 
town,  and  I  took  an  early  opportunity  of  visiting  it. 
A  dozen  tents  formed  an  avenue  of  squalor  and  misery 
such  as  I  should  never  have  believed  compatible  with 
the  existence  of  human  beings.  Each  tent  consisted 
of  an  old  coarsely  patched  and  repatched  blanket 
strung  over  a  pole,  which  rested  at  either  end  upon 
two  crossed  sticks.  Under  this  roof  lived  a  family 
of  black-haired  and  black-eyed  creatures  clad  in  many- 
coloured  rags — black,   red,   blue,    white,  yellow,   and 

1 86 


AMONG  THE  GIPSIES  18/ 

green — which,  indeed,  "  seemed  to  speak  variety  of 
wretchedness."  The  hollow  cheeks  of  the  inmates 
suggested  starvation.  But  starvation  is  the  normal 
condition  of  life  in  Turkey,  and  somehow  the  people 
manage  to  starve  comfortably  on  to  very  venerable 
ages,  unless  the  authorities  take  it  into  their  heads 
to  accelerate  the  pace  of  Nature. 

The  wise  woman  of  the  colony  did  the  honours  of 
the  camp.  She  was  a  large  loathsome  lady  of  between 
fifty  and  a  hundred  years  of  age.  Her  coarse  raven 
locks,  straggling  from  under  a  yellow  kerchief,  en- 
circled a  wizened  face,  out  of  which  protruded  a  nose 
so  long  and  so  substantial  that  it  seemed  to  have  been 
reared  at  an  expense  ruinous  to  the  rest  of  the  face. 
A  pair  of  keen,  scintillating  eyes  and  a  firmly  set 
mouth  completed  her  remarkable  physiognomy. 

She,  of  course,  offered  to  tell  me  my  fortune,  for 
which  she  employed  both  the  Greek  term  (rnoira)  and 
the  Turkish  {fal).  I  willingly  accepted  her  gracious 
proposal,  and  she  forthwith  whipped  out  of  the  recesses 
of  her  bosom  bunch  after  bunch  of  amulets,  old  coins, 
shells,  blue  glass  beads,  and  many  other  quaint  things. 
Out  of  this  heterogeneous  collection,  she  picked  one 
shell,  and  into  the  crevice  thereof  she  inserted  the 
piastre  which  I  gave  her  as  a  preliminary  fee.  She 
then  fixed  her  eyes  upon  it,  and  after  a  few  minutes 
of  profound  and  impressive  silence,  delivered  herself 
to  this  effect : 

"  You  are  a  stranger  in  this  land  and  will  go 
away  soon.  You  belong  to  a  family  of  six.  But  for 
some  time  past  you  have  been  living  far  from  your 
friends." 

The  number  of  the  members  of  my  family  was  the 
only  point  that  might  have  inspired  a  boarding-school 


1 88  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

young  lady  with   some  faith   in    the   prophetess.     It 
happened  to  be  quite  correct. 

After  a  long  string  of  similar  statements,  some  of 
which  were  perfectly  true,  but  at  the  same  time  such 
as  one  might  venture  to  make  without  any  great  claim 
to  divination,  she  favoured  me  with  a  variant  of  the 
classical  story : 

"A  dark-eyed  maiden  is  dying  for  love  of  you. 
But  you  care  not  for  her  " — and  the  soothsayer  heaved 
a  vicarious  sigh  on  the  absent  unfortunate's  behalf.  I 
gallantly  echoed  it.  Then  she  pursued  in  the  whining 
sing-song  peculiar  to  the  women  of  her  race  and 
trade.  "When  you  quitted  your  home,  a  woman 
and  her  daughter  cast  dust  after  you  and  pronounced 
a  spell,  from  the  eflfects  of  which  I  alone  can  deliver 
you. 

"  Oh,  that  is  really  interesting.  How  will  you 
doit?" 

"  By  concocting  a  counter-charm  which  you  must 
make  the  maid  drink,  or  pour  outside  her  door.  It 
will  only  cost  you  five  piastres." 

I  answered  that  I  could  not  think  of  troubling  her 
ladyship  to  that  extent,  but  gave  her  another  piastre, 
in  return  for  which  she  bestowed  upon  me  a  benedic- 
tion in  four  different  and  impartially  broken  languages : 
Greek,  Turkish,  Bulgarian,  and  the  queer  dialect  of 
her  own  people  :  a  truly  polyglot  piece  of  womanhood, 
though,  alas  !  no  prophetess. 

Colonies  of  these  world-wanderers  are  to  be  met 
with  in  many  parts  of  Macedonia.  Their  aggregate 
number,  owing  to  the  roaming  habits  of  the  race,  and 
the  Turk's  incurable  contempt  for  statistics,  is  difficult 
to  estimate  ;  but  in  all  probability  it  does  not  exceed 
ten    thousand.      And    yet   the    gipsy,    like   the    Jew, 


AMONG  THE  GIPSIES  189 

never  fails  to  make  his  presence  felt  in  a  degree  out 
of  all  proportion  to  his  numbers.  Very  often  they 
pitch  their  tents  in  the  neighbourhood  of  towns  and 
villages,  attracted  thither  by  fairs  and  markets,  but  not 
unfrequently  they  are  found  permanently  settled  in  the 
towns,  chiefly  in  the  suburbs  or  within  the  walls  of  the 
old  disused  citadels.  These  settlements  are  generally 
known  as  Ghiuftika,  or  gipsy  quarters. 

But  whether  nomadic  or  stationary,  these  "  able- 
bodied  lackalls"  constitute  a  people  marked  off  from 
other  peoples  by  colour,  physique,  and  mode  of 
living.  Time  and  place,  which  mould  other  races,  have 
no  effect  upon  these  children  of  unknown  parents :  as 
they  were  in  the  beginning,  are  now,  and,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  ever  will  be.  In  the  midst  of  slavery  they  are 
free  :  too  humble  for  oppression,  too  poor  for  extortion, 
too  unambitious  for  extermination.  Their  habitual, 
though  sullen  and  often  ironical,  submissiveness  to  the 
Turk  further  assists  their  immunity  from  persecution. 
This  last  trait  of  the  gipsy  character  is  illustrated  by  a 
widely-known  anecdote  : — 

A  Turkish  grandee  upon  a  frosty  winter  day  meets 
a  gipsy  vagrant  in  the  street.  The  Agha  is  wrapt  in 
rich  furs,  the  gipsy  is  half  naked.  Between  this  ill- 
assorted  pair  ensues  the  following  dialogue  : 

Agha. — Wherefore  tremblest  thou,  0  gipsy  ? 

Gipsy  (shivering). — It  is  for  joy  at  beholding  thee, 
my  lord. 

Agha. — Wherefore  do  thy  teeth  chatter  ? 

Gipsy. — They  are  playing  a  tune  for  thy  entertain- 
ment, my  lord. 

Whereupon  the  Agha,  gratified,  throws  a  handful 
of  gold  to  the  wily  vagabond,  who  goes  away  rejoicing. 

Glibness  of  speech  and  suppleness  of  manner  are 


190  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

two  of  the  most  prominent  characteristics  of  the  race, 
both  extremely  useful  qualities  in  a  country  where  the 
rule  is  by  the  popular  muse  acknowledged  to  be  :  "  Steal 
that  thou  mayest  live,  and  rob  that  thou  mayest  grow 
wealthy." 

The  gipsies  never  appeal  to  the  native  [courts  of 
justice.  All  disputes  amongst  them  are  settled  by  the 
chief  or  headman  of  the  tribe,  or  by  a  freely  chosen 
arbiter.  At  Salonica  I  was  told  that  some  years  ago  a 
Greek  of  that  town,  named  Yanni,  had  acquired  so 
great  an  influence  over  the  gipsy  colony  in  the  citadel, 
that  he  often  acted  as  a  magistrate  amongst  them,  and 
w^as  looked  upon  by  them  as  a  being  of  a  superior 
order.  My  informant  could  not  say  whether  Yanni 
owed  his  ascendency  to  any  supernatural  powers,  or  to 
mere  superiority  in  the  arts  of  eloquence  and  tact  so 
highly  esteemed  by  the  gipsies. 

In  early  youth  their  women  are  remarkable  for  a 
weird  kind  of  beauty.  But  this  is  soon  withered  by 
hardship  and  constant  exposure  to  the  weather.  An 
old,  or  even  a  middle-aged  Turkish  gipsy,  is  the  most 
terribly  repulsive  wreck  of  womanhood  imaginable. 
Their  ugliness  and  untidiness  are  proverbial,  and  nurses 
are  in  the  habit  of  frightening  children  to  silence  by 
the  bare  mention  of  the  "  gipsy  woman."  Unattractive- 
ness,  however,  is  a  blessing  which  a  race  proud  of  its 
purity  and  passionately  attached  to  freedom,  as  the 
gipsies  are,  ought  to  appreciate  keenly  in  a  country 
where  beauty  so  often  is  a  passport  into  that  worst  of 
prisons — a  Turk's  harem. 

The  men,  on  the  other  hand,  retain  their  masculine 
good  looks  to  a  fairly  advanced  age.  Their  lives,  spent 
as  they  are,  mostly  in  movement  and  in  the  open  air, 
favour  the  development  of  muscle  and  nerve.     They 


AMONG  THE  GIPSIES  191 

are  distinguished  as  prize-fighters  (j^ehlevans),  and  as 
producers  of  a  particularly  formidable  kind  of  instru- 
mental music.  These  two  accomplishments  make  the 
gipsy  male  a  valuable  auxiliary  to  a  Turkish  f6te.  But 
these  are  mere  relaxations  compared  with  the  serious 
occupations  of  the  gipsies.  They  are  blacksmiths  and 
tinkers  by  inheritance,  and  their  wares,  though  ex- 
tremely primordial  in  pattern  and  workmanship — sur- 
vivals of  antediluvian  non-art — are  in  high  repute 
amongst  the  peasantry  and  the  lower  classes  in  the 
towns.  To  this  traditional  trade  they  join  the  manu- 
facture of  sieves,  baskets,  rush  mats,  and  rude  agri- 
cultural implements.  In  the  season  of  harvest  they 
also  condescend  to  assist  the  farmers  as  day-labourers. 
When  reaping  is  over,  groups  of  gipsy  men,  women, 
and  children  may  be  seen  gleaning  in  the  fields.  The 
proceeds  of  all  these  trades  are  supplemented  by  indis- 
criminate pilfering,  which,  though  seldom,  if  ever, 
amounting  to  open  brigandage,  renders  a  gipsy  colony 
an  object  of  dread  to  the  small  farmers  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood. 

The  females  are  famous  as  fortune-tellers,  as  skilful 
promoters  of  love,  and  as  mendicants  of  an  exceptionally 
persevering  type.  On  feast-days  they  are  fond  of  going 
about  the  streets  playing  the  tambourine  and  dancing. 
These  performances  are  often  accompanied  by  strident 
essays  in  vocal  melody  and  unconventional  poetry,  of 
which  the  following  may  be  taken  as  a  fair  sample : — 

GIPSY  DANCING  SONG. 

"  Bebo,  bebo,  bebo, 

Tu  menchate  candrd  beshtd  !  " 

'*  Ami  te  beshto 

Caske  holinate  ? " 


192  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

"  Kako,  kako,  kako, 

Tu  caraste  candr6  beshtd  !  " 

"  Ami  te  beshto 

Caske  holinate  ? " 


Translation. 

{Mutatis  Mutandis.) 

"  Aunt,  aunt,  aunt, 

Into  thy  hand  a  thorn  has  entered  !  " 

"  And  if  it  has  entered, 

Whose  concern  is  it  ? " 

"Uncle,  uncle,  uncle, 

Into  thy  foot  a  thorn  has  entered !  " 

"  And  if  it  has  entered. 

Whose  concern  is  it  ? " 

A  fastidious  critic  might  object  that  the  composition 
has  little  rhyme  and  less  reason  to  recommend  it. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  defend  it.  Nevertheless,  it 
may  be  urged,  as  an  extenuating  circumstance,  that 
it  is  original  and  characteristic.  Besides,  it  should  be 
borne  in  mind  that  the  wild  gesticulations  and  con- 
tortions of  the  body,  which  accompany  the  words,  take 
off  much  of  their  apparent  tameness,  and  produce  any- 
thing but  a  soothing  effect  upon  the  spectator's  nerves, 
especially  if  the  performance  is  seen  by  the  red  light 
of  a  camp-fire  in  a  mountain-girt  Macedonian  valley. 

The  song  is  also  interesting  as  a  specimen  of 
the  dialect.  This  differs  surprisingly  little  from  the 
Romany  spoken  by  the  gipsies  of  other  countries. 
How  slightly  this  curious  relic  of  a  language  has  been 
affected  by  local  influences  is  still  more  apparent  in 
the  following  common  sentences  : — 

Nik  avri  te  vakraa  tu  mia  lafi — Come  out  that  I. 
may  speak  to  thee  a  word. 


AMONG  THE  GIPSIES  193 

Mi  ka  heshd  manga  te  pias  pantch  okades  mol — 
When  I  sit  down  I  require  to  drink  five  okes  of  wine. 

This  last  phrase,  by  the  way,  may  be  said  to  possess 
more  than  a  purely  linguistic  value  for  the  student  of 
gipsy  life ;  five  okes  is  equal  to  about  two  and  a  half 
gallons. 

Among  the  sixteen  words  which  make  up  the  above 
two  sentences  there  is  only  one  Greek  {mia,  "  one  "), 
one  Turkish  {lafi,  "speech"),  and  one  Turkish  with 
a  Greek  formation  (okades),  the  last  one  being  the 
name  of  a  measure.  All  the  rest  are  common  to  the 
Romany  the  world  over.^  This  jargon  is  used  by  the 
gipsies  amongst  themselves.  But  in  their  relations 
with  the  Gentiles  they  employ  the  language  of  the 
latter,  which  they  speak  with  equal  fluency  and  in- 
difference to  grammar. 

In  the  course  of  my  rambles  through  Macedonia 
I  heard  several  gipsies  speak  Turkish,  Greek,  or 
Bulgarian  with  native  purity  of  accent,  but  that  is 
only  the  case  with  those  who  have  dwelt  long  in  the 
midst  of  Turks,  Greeks,  or  Bulgarians  as  permanent 
settlers.  The  majority  of  wandering  gipsies  are  very 
imperfectly  acquainted  with  any  but  their  own  frag- 
ment of  an  idiom. 

Such  are  the  manners  and  such  is  the  language  of 
Turkish  gipsies.  With  regard  to  religion,  it  may  be 
doubted  whether  they  have  any  in  theory,  although 
in  practice  they  profess  a  profitable  kind  of  eclecti- 
cism. Some  call  themselves  Mohammedan  and  others 
Christian — that   is,    at   moments    of  excitement   they 

^  Here  are  some  more  examples  collected  at  random ;  draha,  grapes  ; 
matchO,  fish ;  latchi,  good ;  meyitclia,  pudendum  feminine ;  avella,  he 
comes ;  dad,  father.  All  these  words  are  to  be  found  in  the  vocabularies 
affixed  to  George  Borrow's  works  on  the  Gipsies  of  Western  Europe. 

N 


194  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

appeal  to  Mohammed  or  to  Christ,  according  to  the 
creed  prevailing  in  the  district  which  is  their  home  for 
the  time  being.  But  neither  the  Koran  nor  the  Gospel 
seems  to  have  produced  even  a  skin-deep  impression 
upon  them,  and  they,  like  all  eclectics,  are  consequently 
scorned  as  outcasts  by  the  genuine  followers  of  both 
religious  systems. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

SOME  MELANCHOLY  COMEDIES 

The  versatile  schoolmaster,  who  has  so  often  figured 
in  the  pages  of  this  narrative,  appears  again,  and,  I 
fear,  not  for  the  last  time.  As  I  have  already  men- 
tioned, he  was  now  at  Petritz,  intriguing  hard  to 
recover  his  scholastic  throne.  He  was  the  mainspring 
of  many  a  subterranean  mechanism  which  entailed  risk 
to  life  and  limb.  He  knew  that  the  Bulgarians  were 
thirsting  for  his  blood,  and  he  very  considerately 
avoided  giving  me  more  of  his  society  than  was  safe 
for  me.  "  It  is  not  well  that  you  should  be  seen  in 
my  company,  sir,"  he  said  once,  with  a  look  worthy  of 
.a  younger  Brutus ;  "I  have  many  enemies,  and  I  do 
not  wish  my  friends  to  share  in  my  unpopularity."  I 
record  this  speech  with  all  the  greater  pleasure  as 
what,  in  my  character  of  a  veracious  historian,  I  am 
going  to  relate  presently  does  not  reflect  much  credit 
on  this  amazing  personage. 

Supple  and  slippery  as  an  eel,  my  schoolmaster 
managed  to  insinuate  himself  into  all  cliques,  without 
really  belonging  to  any.  A  professed  foe  of  the  Bul- 
garians, he  had  a  Bulgarian  wife.  A  fervent  hater 
of  the  Turks,  he  was  on  familiar  terms  with  the 
powers  that  be.  He  knew  intimately  every  functionary, 
official  Pharisee  and  Scribe  in  the  place,  and  he  was 
a  favourite  with  the  officers  of  the  garrison.  To  one 
or  two   of  them   he   even   gave   gratuitous  lessons   in 


196  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

music.  He  feasted  with  them,  fiddled  with  them, 
fraternised  with  them,  and  abhorred  them  from  the 
very  bottom  of  his  shallow  heart.  Moved  partly  by 
vanity  and  partly,  no  doubt,  by  the  wish  to  oblige 
me,  he  offered  to  introduce  me  to  some  of  his  grand 
acquaintances  at  the  barracks.  I  gladly  seized  the 
opportunity  of  getting  a  glimpse  of  the  Turkish 
soldier  at  home,  and  one  fine  afternoon  we  repaired 
to  their  quarters. 

Two  black  gentlemen  from  Crete — my  companion's 
particular  friends  and  disciples  in  fiddling — received 
and  showed  us  over  the  premises.  They  both  spoke 
perfect  Greek,  and  were  curiously  proud  of  their 
accomplishment.  They  professed  a  sovereign  con- 
tempt for  the  ordinary  one-language  Turk,  and  to 
my  question  whether  they  were  of  Soudanese  ex- 
traction— a  fact  which  their  ebony  faces  and  splendid 
physique  proclaimed  loudly  enough — they  stiffly 
answered  :  "  We  are  Cretans,  sir,  bred  and  born  !  " 

My  schoolmaster  was  in  great  form,  and  improved 
the  occasion  by  treating  me  to  an  exhibition  of  a  talent 
for  which,  profound  as  my  admiration  for  the  resources- 
of  his  intellect  was,  I  had  not  hitherto  given  him 
credit.  While  the  officers  pointed  out  to  me  the 
various  parts  of  the  building,  my  companion  kept 
up  a  running  commentary,  enlivened  and  illustrated 
by  gestures,  winks,  nudges,  exclamations,  and  asides. 
The  following  is  a  specimen  of  the  performance  : — 

I  St  Officer. — "These  are  the  stables.  They  are  not 
finished,  you  see " 

Schoolmaster. — "  No,  they  are  not  finished.  {Aside 
to  me.)    Neither  are  they  likely  to  be  ever  finished." 

2ncZ  Off.—''  —For  lack  of  funds." 

School. — "Exactly,  for  lack  of  funds,"  tapping  his. 


SOME  MELANCHOLY  COMEDIES  197 

ofF-side  pocket  in  a  manner  intended  to  indicate  to  me 
the  abyss  down  which  the  funds  had  disappeared. 

I  St  Off. — "They  have  been  built  by  voluntary  con- 
tribution." 

Myself. — "  H'm,  I  believe  most  public  buildings  are 
built  by — er — voluntary  contribution,  are  they  not  ? " 

1st  Off.— "Yes,  you  see " 

School. — "  But  in  this  case  the  people  have  sur- 
passed themselves  in  their  liberality,  have  they  not  ?  " 
with  a  furtive  wink  at  me. 

2nd  Off.  (uncomfortably.) — "  Yes,  they  have  done 
pretty  well." 

School. — "  They  have  all  contributed  to  the  utter- 
most of  their  ability,"  nudging  me. 

15^  Off.  (hurriedly). — "  Yes,  yes.  But  perhaps  you 
would  like  to  visit  the " 

School. — "  High  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  they  have 
all  given  as  much  as  they  could  afford,  and  more." 

2nd  Off. — "But  still  it  was  not  enough,  as  you 
see " 

School. — "No,  of  course  not,  it  was  not  enough. 
(Aside  to  me.)  It  never  is  enough." 

Thus,  partly  by  pantomime  and  partly  by  innuendo, 
the  voluble  politician  managed  to  carry  on  a  double 
entendre  dialogue,  which  for  ingenuity  of  invention 
and  sustained  force  of  execution  surpassed  anything 
of  the  kind  I  had  ever  seen  off  the  stage.  Poor 
Turkish  officers,  and  poor  Greek  schoolmaster ! 

On  our  way  from  the  barracks  I  ventured  to  hint 
to  my  companion  that  his  performance,  clever  as  it 
was,  was  perhaps  somewhat  wanting  in  manliness. 
He  understood  me  clearly,  but  answered  calmly  and 
without  the  slightest  sign  of  resentment : — 

"  We  are  obhged  to  treat  them  like  that,  or  life 


198  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

would  be  an  impossibility  in  this  country.  Fortune 
has  given  to  the  Turk  the  teeth  and  claws  of  a 
tiger.  To  us  she  has  given  the  wits  of  a  fox.  Each 
animal  must  fight  with  its  natural  weapons,  and  who 
can  blame  us,  if  we  make  the  best  use  of  ours  ? " 

There  was  enough  of  truth  in  this  retort  to  silence 
me  at  the  time,  and  to  supply  me  with  food  for  reflec- 
tion. If  one  cannot  admire,  at  least  no  one  can  help 
pitying  these  people.  The  tyrannical  yoke  under  which 
they  live  forces  them  to  prostitute  their  fine  intelli- 
gence to  the  end  of  self-preservation.  It  is  a  regime 
peculiarly  well  calculated  to  foster  the  growth  of  para- 
sitism. The  free-born  citizen  of  a  great  state  can 
scarcely  realise  the  position  of  inferiority  which  the 
native  Christian  occupies  towards  the  Mohammedan 
in  Turkey.  Giaour  and  Kiaffir  are  two  of  the  very 
first  words  which  a  Mohammedan  child  is  taught  to 
pronounce.  These  epithets  and  a  great  many  other 
terms,  mostly  derived  from  the  names  of  the  less 
cleanly  members  of  the  animal  kingdom,  form  the 
Turk's  habitual  mode  of  address  toward  a  Christian. 
Whenever  representatives  of  the  two  creeds  are  gathered 
together,  the  Christian  is  expected  to  take  a  back  seat. 
If  a  Christian  approaches  a  circle  where  Turks  and 
Christians  are  sitting  in  company,  he  must  salute  the 
Turks  first.  All  Mohammedans,  and  more  especially 
those  in  the  Government  service,  military  or  civil,  from 
the  proudest  Pasha  down  to  the  paltriest  policeman, 
consider  themselves  entitled  to  be  treated  as  princes. 
Officers  and  privates  alike  insist  on  being  saluted  by 
a  title  of  honour.  So  that,  as  a  Christian  Kodjahashi, 
or  village  headman,  once  half-bitterly,  half-humorously 
observed  to  me  :  "  If  they  all  are  generals  and  mar- 
shals, sir,  where  are  the  common  soldiers  ? "     At  the 


SOME  MELANCHOLY  COMEDIES     199 

least  provocation  the  Turk  may  proceed  to  knock  the 
Christian  down.  In  that  case  the  policy  recommended 
by  experience  is  silent  submission.  An  action  against 
the  aggressor  would,  in  addition  to  the  blow,  bring 
a  fine  upon  the  plaintilBf.  If  the  Christian  retaliates 
on  the  spot,  he  is  promptly  punished  for  assault.  In 
the  circumstances,  pliability  is  a  quality  assiduously 
cultivated.  Having  originated  as  a  matter  of  neces- 
sity, it  has  come  to  be  regarded  almost  as  an  accom- 
plishment. The  principle  of  Christian  humility  is 
inculcated  by  many  adages  of  this  kind  :  "  A  stick 
that  bendeth,  breaketh  not ; "  or,  "  A  bowed  head 
is  spared  by  the  sword." 

After  a  short  sojourn  in  the  Sultan's  dominions 
one  begins  to  understand  that  Juvenal's  Grwcidus 
esuriens  is  not  a  creation  of  the  satirist's  imagina- 
tion. He  will  still  find  many  a  man  who,  "  If  you 
say  '  I  am  hot '  (provided  you  belong  to  the  domi- 
nant race),  will  begin  to  perspire."  It  is  no  figure 
of  rhetoric,  but  a  sober  statement  of  a  commonplace 
fact,  that  no  Christian  dares  to  say  "  No "  to  a 
Mohammedan.  The  slightest  contradiction  is  often 
sufficient  to  bring  about  a  quarrel  which  may  cost 
the  offender  his  life.  The  attitude  of  abject  sub- 
mission to  the  Turk  is  well  described  by  the  local 
proverb  : — 

"Doth  the  ass  not  fly,  sirrah  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  lord,  it  doth  fly." 

One  day,  while  travelling  in  a  railway  carriage,  I 
had  an  opportunity  of  realising  how  deep  lie  the  roots 
of  this  fear  of  the  Turk.  My  fellow-travellers  were  a 
Turkish  captain  of  cavalry  and  a  well-to-do  Christian 
merchant.  In  the  course  of  conversation  the  ofiicer 
remarked  : — 


200  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

**  I  suppose  you've  heard  the  news  about  Crete.  It 
is  to  be  given  back  to  us." 

"  Yes,  most  illustrious  general,"  answered  the  mer- 
chant, meekly.  "I  have  indeed  heard  it,  and  rejoiced 
exceedingly  thereat.     Heaven  grant  it  may  be  so  ! " 

Soon  after  the  officer  got  out  at  a  station.  There- 
upon the  merchant,  turning  to  me,  asked  : — 

"  Did  you  hear  what  the  unbaptized  swine  had  the 
impudence  to  say  ? " 

*'  Yes,  my  friend,"  I  replied.  "  But  I  also  heard  you 
agree  with  him  most  cordially.  Is  it  true  that  you 
have  heard  such  a  rumour  about  Crete?" 

"  No  !  I  never  heard  anything  of  the  kind,  and, 
what's  more,  I  don't  believe  he  did  either.  But  what 
would  you  ?     He  is  a  Turk." 

The  above  and  other  dialogues  which  I  heard  at 
various  times  reminded  me  of  the  inimitable  scene 
between  Hamlet  and  Polonius  : — 

Ham. — "  Do  you  see  yonder  cloud,  that's  almost  in 
shape  of  a  camel  ? " 

Pol. — ''  By  the  mass,  and  'tis  like  a  camel  indeed." 

Ham. — "  Methinks  it  is  like  a  weasel." 

Pol. — "  It  is  like  a  weasel." 

Ham. — "  Or  like  a  whale." 

Pol.—''  Very  like  a  whale." 

A  Turkish  Hamlet  might  well  exclaim — 

*'  They  fool  me  to  the  top  of  my  bent !  " 

But  he  does  not.  He  is  too  dense  to  see  that  he 
is  fooled,  and  too  fond  of  servile  adulation,  however 
fulsome,  to  mind  its  grotesqueness. 

It  must  not  be  imagined  that  the  people  are  insen- 
sible to  their  degradation.  How  keenly  they  feel  and 
resent  the  cringing  and  fawning  which  they  are  com- 
pelled   by   stern    necessity  to    practise    can   be   amply 


SOME  MELANCHOLY  COMEDIES  201 

gathered  from  their  private  conversation.  When 
amongst  themselves  and  secure  from  espionage,  they 
give  vent  to  their  feelings  in  pretty  strong  language. 
The  Kodjahashi  already  quoted  spoke  to  me  one  day 
as  follows  : — 

"This  is  no  life,  sir.  We  are  slaves.  Patience  is 
our  only  resource.  Hope  of  succour  there  is  none. 
We  have  been  suffering  for  the  last  five  hundred  years, 
and  none  of  the  kings  of  Christendom  has  held  out  a 
hand  to  rescue  us.  But  the  day  of  reckoning  shall 
come,  as  sure  as  there  is  a  God  on  high !  " 

He  ended  by  imploring  me  not  to  divulge  what  he 
had  said. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

FAREWELL   TO    PETRITZ 

Before  leaving  Petritz  I  called  on  the  Kaimakam  to 
ask  for  an  escort.  The  Konak,  or  Government  House, 
is  a  large  old-fashioned  building  with  a  large  courtyard 
in  front.  As  I  entered  I  noticed  a  number  of  storks, 
the  favourite  bird  of  the  Turk,  strutting  about  with  an 
air  of  severe  dignity,  apparently  contracted  from  long 
association  with  official  circles.  A  broad  stone  stair- 
case led  to  the  first  storey,  which  was  occupied  by  the 
offices  of  the  police.  Groups  of  rustics  squatted  along 
the  corridor,  waiting  for  the  convenience  of  Turkish 
justice.  On  the  window-sills  lounged  zaptiehs,  and 
other  loafers  of  a  nondescript  character  lay  about  on 
the  floor,  sleeping  or  smoking.  The  Kaimakam  s  office 
stood  on  the  second  storey,  and  thither  I  and  the 
versatile  schoolmaster,  who  had  volunteered  to  act  as 
my  interpreter,  were  shown  by  a  zaptieh. 

We  found  his  Excellency  in  a  lofty  apartment,  with 
a  vaulted  ceiling  covered  with  pictures  of  kiosks  and 
mosques,  cypress  -  trees  and  tombstones,  and  other 
designs  dear  to  a  Turk's  eye.  He  was  sitting  in  an 
ample  arm-chair  behind  a  table  littered  with  cigarette 
ashes,  spent  matches,  and  a  few  papers.  He  rose 
slightly  as  he  returned  our  salaam,  and  requested  us 
to  be  seated  on  two  sofas  on  either  side  of  his  throne. 
We  had  scarcely  taken  our  seats  when  the  Kaimakam 
clapped  his  hands  and  ordered  cofi'ee  and  cigarettes. 


FAREWELL  TO  PETRITZ  203 

Soon  the  cafedji  appeared  carrying  a  tin  tray  suspended 
from  a  tin  arch,  and,  having  left  his  slippers  on  the 
mat  outside  the  door,  walked  barefooted  across  the 
room  and  presented  the  refreshments  to  us. 

My  companion  did  most  of  the  talking,  as  Said 
Bey  did  not  know  a  word  of  any  Christian  language, 
and  my  own  Turkish  could  not  be  trusted  for  a  sus- 
tained conversation.  His  Excellency,  however,  would 
now  and  again  turn  towards  me  and  salaam  with  a 
smile  which  was  meant  to  be  pleasing,  but  which  had 
absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  the  conversation.  I 
smiled  and  salaamed  back  in  an  equally  courteous  and 
irrelevant  manner.  Things  went  on  in  this  fashion 
for  a  long  time.  The  schoolmaster  talked  of  the  crop, 
of  the  festival,  of  the  circumcision  of  the  Mullah's 
children,  but  never  alluded  to  the  object  of  our  visit. 
To  make  matters  worse,  I  was  unable  to  signal  to  him 
my  feelings  owing  to  the  Kaimakam' s  frequent  panto- 
mimic attentions.  At  last  my  companion  who,  I  fancy, 
rather  enjoyed  the  situation,  to  my  great  relief  said  : — 

"This  gentleman,  Excellency,  wishes  to  leave  to- 
morrow,"— that  brought  another  smile  and  salaam 
from  the  Kaimakam  to  me, — "  and  although,  of  course, 
the  roads  are  perfectly  safe " 

"Perfectly  safe,"  echoed  the  Kaimakam,  with  a 
fresh  smile  and  salaam. 

" — Thanks  to  our  august  sovereign's  paternal  solici- 
tude for  the  welfare  of  his  subjects, — may  Allah  prolong 
his  days  for  ever  !  " 

"May  Allah  prolong  his  days  for  ever!"  repeated 
the  Kaimakam. 

"  Amen,"  said  I,  forgetting  myself  for  a  moment ; 
but  his  Excellency  took  no  notice  of  my  slip,  but 
smiled  and  salaamed  benevolently  as  usual. 


204  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

"  Yet,"  pursued  the  schoolmaster,  "  perhaps  it  would 
be — h'm — just  as  well — h'm " 

"  Quite  so,"  agreed  the  Kaimakam,  yawning. 

"  I  mean  there  is  no  harm  in  making  assurance 
doubly  sure,"  plunged  the  schoolmaster  desperately, 
and  encouraged  by  the  Kaimakam's  sleepiness  pro- 
ceeded.    "We  Christians  have  a  story " 

"  Yes  ■? "  interrogated  the  Kaimakam,  pricking  up 
his  ears  at  the  mention  of  the  word  story,  and  in  his 
eagerness  to  hear  it  he  forgot  for  once  to  smile  and 
salaam  to  me. 

I  took  advantage  of  this  welcome  omission  to  ob- 
serve to  my  interpreter  in  Greek  : — 

"Don't  you  think  we  are  rather  wasting  time?" 

"  This  is  the  style,"  he  replied,  without  showing  on 
his  countenance  what  the  purport  of  my  remark  was, 
and  then  turning  to  the  Kaimakam  he  explained  : — 

**  This  gentleman  is  so  interested  in  stories  that  he 
is  pressing  me  to  tell  this  one." 

"  Of  course,  of  course,  do  by  all  means.  I  should 
like  to  hear  it  too!"  rejoined  the  Kaimakam,  smiling 
and  salaaming  his  affable  approval  to  me. 

"Well,"  began  the  incorrigible  rascal,  "I  should 
be  loth  to  waste  your  Excellency's  valuable  time — " 
At  that  moment  a  kiatib,  or  scribe,  lifted  the  iDortiere 
and  came  into  the  room  in  his  socks. 

With  low  and  intermittent  obeisances  he  smoothly 
glided  up  to  the  Kaimakam  and  presented  to  him 
several  yards  of  paper  cut  in  strips  and  covered  with 
slanting  lines  of  hieroglyphics.  His  Excellency  did 
not  even  pretend  to  read  them,  but  forthwith  produced 
his  seal,  moistened  it  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue  and, 
having  inked  it  with  his  little  finger,  proceeded  to 
affix   it   to  the    documents.     The   kiatib  salaamed  to 


FAREWELL  TO  PETRITZ  205 

the  floor,  gathered  up  his  strips  of  paper,  and  stepped 
backwards  to  the  door,  where  he  resumed  his  slippers 
and  vanished  behind  the  curtain. 

"Well?"  said  the  Kaimakam,  with  a  little  sigh  of 
relief  at  having  got  rid  of  the  interruption. 

"  Once  upon  a  time,"  commenced  the  schoolmaster, 
with  a  malicious  look  at  me,  "  there  was  a  captain  of 
a  sailing  vessel.  Now  it  befell  that  his  ship  became 
infested  with  rats.  'Tis  a  strange  thing,  Excellency, 
but  rats  do  get  on  board  ships.  How  they  do  it  is 
not  known  to  me.  Perhaps  they  climb  along  the 
cables  with  which  ships  are  moored  to  the  shore, 
perhaps  they  swim.  In  any  case,  there  were  on  this 
captain's  vessel  more  rats  than  was  good  for  him  and 
his  cargo.  So  one  day,  when  he  was  lying  in  port, 
he  bethought  himself  to  send  for  a  priest  and  ask 
him  to  exorcise  the  vermin  away.  The  priest  came, 
brought  some  holy  water  with  him  and  duly  performed 
the  ceremony.  As  he  was  going  down  the  gangway 
the  captain  said,  '  Well,  my  father,  art  thou  certain 
that  the  rats  will  go  away  after  the  exorcism  1 ' 
'Who  can  be  certain  of  anything  in  this  uncertain 
world,  my  son  ? '  answered  the  priest.  '  Everything 
lies  in  the  hands  of  God.  But  great  as  the  efficacy 
of  holy  water  undoubtedly  is,  I  should,  if  I  were  thou, 
get  a  cat  or  two  on  board  as  well.  There  is  no  harm 
in  making  assurance  doubly  sure.' " 

The  Kaimakam  laughed  heartily  and  copiously 
when  he  saw  the  point  of  the  story,  which  he  did 
not  do  for  some  minutes.  The  schoolmaster  remained 
mute  and  impassive  until  the  Kaimakam  gave  him 
the  signal,  and  then  he  dutifully  joined  in  the  laugh. 
The  Kaimakam,  having  wiped  his  eyes  on  a  corner 
of  the  table-cloth,  expressed  the  desire  to   hear  my 


2o6  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

opinion  on  the  subject.  I  then  gravely  parodied 
Voltaire's  words  for  his  Excellency's  benefit,  and  said 
through  the  interpreter  : — 

"  There  is  not  the  slightest  doubt,  O  Kaimaham, 
that  holy  water  and  prayers  are  capable  of  putting 
to  flight  a  legion  of  rats,  if  the  ceremony  be  accom- 
panied by  a  sufficient  number  of  cats." 

Thereupon  his  Excellency  nodded  wisely,  and 
resuming  his  official  serenity,  said  : — 

"  I  shall  see  that  the  gentleman  has  two  mounted 
gendarmes  early  in  the  morning." 

A  final  smile  and  salaam  sealed  the  great  man's 
words. 

I  got  up.  But  we  could  not  go  even  then.  A 
visitor  had  just  walked  into  the  room,  and  until  he 
had  exchanged  salaams  with  the  Kairaahcnn  it  would 
have  been  rude  for  us  to  move.  While  this  cere- 
mony was  going  on,  I  had  time  to  comment  mentally 
on  the  mysterious  connection  between  shoes  and 
social  rank.  The  cafedji  had  come  in  barefooted, 
the  Jciatih  in  socks,  but  this  individual  in  both  socks 
and  shoes  ?  He  must,  therefore,  be  a  more  important 
personage  than  either  of  the  rest — a  conclusion  cor- 
roborated by  the  attentions  which  the  Kaimahara 
upon  the  newcomer. 

At  last  we  left  the  Konak,  and  I  breathed  once 
more  freely.  My  companion  explained  to  me  in  a 
confidential  whisper  that  in  Turkey  verbosity  is  the 
50ul  of  wit.     We  parted  on  friendly  terms. 


CHAPTER     XXIV 
BACK  TO  SERRES 

It  was  still  quite  dark  when  Mr.  G.  and  I  started  off 
from  our  khan,  and,  accompanied  by  our  mounted 
gendarmes,  plunged  into  the  hollow  lane  which  leads 
out  of  the  town  of  Petritz.  Having  narrowly  missed 
several  pitfalls,  and  just  escaped  being  jammed  in 
between  a  buffalo-cart  and  an  orchard  wall,  we  gained 
the  open  road.  About  an  hour  later  dawn  began  to 
show  her  rosy  fingers  over  the  horizon.  A  pale 
yellowish  tint  first  suffused  the  sky  in  the  east ; 
the  banks  of  purple  clouds  which  hung  over  the 
mountains  were  suddenly  edged  with  crimson,  which 
rapidly  spread  and  transformed  them  into  masses  of 
gold ;  then  the  fiery  disc  of  the  sun  peeped  between 
the  rocks ;  a  bunch  of  beams  shot  upwards,  a  jet 
of  dazzling  light  issued  from  the  depths  of  the  ravine 
and  played  for  a  moment  over  the  plain,  gilding  the 
opposite  hills.  Next  moment  hills  and  plain  alike 
were  bathing  in  a  flood  of  sunshine,  and  the  cool- 
ness of  the  morning  was  succeeded  by  the  mild  heat 
of  early  forenoon.  Not  long  after  we  came  in  sight 
of  the  Struma,  and  henceforth  our  road  ran  parallel 
with  the  right  bank  of  that  river.  The  path  was 
so  steep  and  narrow  in  parts  that  it  was  well  to 
resist  the  temptation  of  gazing  into  the  muddy  stream 
which  flowed  at  a  great  depth  beside  us.     We  passed 


2o8  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

several  karakols,  or  wayside  guard-stations,  perched 
on  the  heights  along  the  bank,  and  finally  reached 
the  sali,  which  I  have  already  described.  We  got 
on  board,  men,  horses,  and  all,  and  the  ferryman 
began  to  manipulate  the  rope.  But  we  had  not  got 
more  than  half-way  across,  when  something  went 
wrong  with  the  mechanism,  and  the  raft  would 
neither  advance  nor  retreat.  For  a  few  minutes  we 
remained  afloat  in  mid-stream,  and  at  last  we  had 
to  coax  our  horses  into  the  water,  which  came  up 
to  the  saddle,  mount  them,  and  wade  to  the  bank. 
The  rest  of  our  way  was  the  same  which  I  traversed 
in  the  opposite  direction  going  to  Melenik. 

Five  hours  after  leaving  Petritz  we  reached  Demir 
Hissar  station,  dismissed  our  gendarmes,  and  took  the 
train  to  SeiTes. 

On  the  road  I  had  an  interesting  talk  with  the 
gendarmes,  and  elicited  from  them  many  details  about 
their  lives  and  prospects.  Of  all  the  much-abused 
servants  of  the  Turkish  Government  none  probably 
deserve  greater  commiseration  than  these  gendarmes. 
The  zaptieh,  or  foot  gendarme's  monthly  pay  is  150 
piastres  (about  £1,  7s.) ;  the  souvari,  or  mounted 
gendarme's,  is  250  piastres  (about  £2,  5s.).  Out 
of  this  the  latter  has  to  keep  his  horse,  as  well  as 
himself  and  family.  But  it  is  not  often  that  even 
this  pittance  is  paid  to  them.  On  the  present  occa- 
sion our  gendarmes  complained  that  they  had  not 
touched  a  piastre  for  eight  months,  and  others  with 
whom  I  came  in  contact  during  my  tour  made  a 
similar  statement.  Some  time  afterwards  I  discovered 
that  these  arrears  were  due  to  the  fact  that  the  Defter- 
dar,   or  Financial  Agent  of  the  Vilayet,  was  in  the 


BACK  TO  SERRES  209 

habit  of  putting  the  money  out  to  interest  on  his 
own  account,  and  only  paying  the  gendarmes  when 
convenient  to  him.  Meanwhile  the  poor  fellows  are 
obliged  to  rely  for  subsistence  on  bakshish.  The 
day  on  which  they  are  told  off  to  escort  a  foreigner 
is  a  red-letter  day  in  their  calendar,  though  even 
out  of  this  bakshish  they  have  to  give  a  share  to 
their  officer,  who  allots  the  job  to  the  highest  bidder. 
Their  other  resource  is  bribery,  and  what  they  can 
squeeze  out  of  the  peasants.  No  wonder  that  they 
Avould  rather  share  the  proceeds  of  brigandage  than 
suppress  it.  Self-preservation  is  the  strongest  of 
Nature's  laws,  and  it  will  assert  itself  in  spite  of 
all  sense  of  duty — if  the  Turkish  gendarme  can  be 
supposed  to  have  any — when  the  latter  spells  star- 
vation. 

A  similar  inadequacy  and  irregularity  of  payment 
is  the  chronic  grievance  of  all  officials,  except  the 
very  highest,  who,  as  has  been  seen,  know  how  to 
pay  themselves  with  interest.  This  is  the  root  of  their 
proverbial  and  incurable  corruptibility.  Penury  and 
Power  are  two  bad  schoolmasters,  and  it  is  more 
than  doubtful  whether  any  human  official,  if  placed 
between  the  means  of  easy  enrichment  on  one  hand, 
and  certain  misery  on  the  other,  would  long  hesitate 
which  of  the  two  alternatives  to  choose.  Moreover, 
posts  in  the  Government  service  are  treated  as  objects 
of  commercial  speculation.  The  favourites  at  Yildiz 
Kiosk  sell  them  to  their  own  favourites.  As  their 
own  tenure  of  office  is  precarious,  they  are  naturally 
anxious  to  make  their  fortunes  while  the  sun  of 
imperial  favour  shines,  and  they  consequently  sell  the 

same  post  to  as  many  successive  customers  as  they  con- 

o 


2IO  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

veniently  can.  These  subordinates,  in  their  turn, 
knowing  that  their  reign  depends  entirely  on  the 
pleasure  of  their  patrons,  try  to  realise  a  compe- 
tence as  speedily  as  possible.  This  accounts  for  their 
cupidity,  and  also  for  the  plethora  of  officials  in  the 
country.  The  effect  of  this  multiplication  of  money- 
eaters  on  the  peasantry  is  simply  ruinous ;  far  more 
so  than  locusts,  murrain,  and  malaria  taken  together ; 
for  these  come  and  go,  while  the  Government  official 
is  always  with  them.  As  an  instance,  I  will  mention 
the  plain  of  Langaza,  about  two  hours'  journey  from 
Salouica.  I  remembered  the  district  as  one  of  the 
most  prosperous  in  Macedonia,  the  plain  ministering 
abundantly  to  the  simple  needs  of  a  population  taught 
to  expect  nothing  and  content  with  little.  During 
the  present  tour  I  found  it  almost  a  desolate  waste. 
Families  once  comfortably  off  were  reduced  to  beggary, 
and  many  a  respectable  household  could  afford  nothing 
more  substantial  for  supper  than  a  piece  of  dry  bread 
made  from  maize  and  a  draught  of  water — a  meal 
which,  for  want  of  a  candle,  had  to  be  eaten  by  the 
light  of  the  wood-fire.  The  people,  one  and  all, 
attributed  the  decline  of  their  fortunes  chiefly  to  the 
recent  establishment  in  their  midst  of  a  Kaimaham, 
in  lieu  of  the  humble  Mudir  of  old,  and  to  the 
consequent  increase  in  the  staff  of  Government 
robbers. 

On  reaching  Serres,  I  was  informed  that  the 
Moutessarif  had  been  in  a  state  of  great  alarm  con- 
cerning my  safety,  and  had  wired  to  the  Kaimaham 
of  Melenik,  ordering  him  to  send  me  back  under 
escort.  Fortunately  the  telegram  did  not  reach  that 
official  until  several   days   after   my    departure,    or   1 


BACK  TO  SERRES  211 

should  have  been  denied  my  most  delightful  visit 
to  Petritz,  a  circumstance  which  shows  that  delay- 
in  the  transmission  of  despatches  is  not  always  an 
unmitigated  evil. 

The  Moutessarif's  anxiety  was  amply  justified  by 
the  stories  of  bloodshed  which  I  heard  every  day. 
Some  of  them  are  eminently  characteristic,  and  will 
help  the  reader  to  form  for  himself  a  picture  of  the 
state  of  things.  That  he  should  fully  realise  the 
horror  of  the  situation  is  more  than  can  be  expected. 
Even  to  me,  who  lived  in  the  midst  of  it,  many  things 
sounded  incredible  and  unreal  at  first,  until  they  be- 
came too  familiar  to  be  even  interesting. 

At  Veshnik,  a  village  one  hour  and  a  half's  journey 
from  Serres,  a  band  of  brigands — organs  of  the  Mace- 
donian Committee — waylaid  the  four  sons  of  a  Greek 
priest,  killed  one  on  the  spot,  wounded  another,  and 
carried  off  the  remaining  two.  A  few  days  after,  I 
heard  that  on  the  father's  delay  to  pay  the  ransom 
they  sent  him  the  head  of  one  of  his  two  captive 
sons. 

An  even  more  sanguinary  occurrence  w^as  reported 
a  few  days  later.  An  old  miller  in  another  village 
was  visited  by  a  brigand,  who  asked  for  a  "  suckling 
kid,"  a  bowl  of  milk,  butter,  and  flour.  The  miller, 
who  by-the-bye  was  said  to  bo  120  years  of  age,  had 
not  lived  through  more  than  a  century  without  learn- 
ing something.  He  called  his  two  sons,  and  bade 
them  take  a  bowl  of  milk  and  a  loaf  of  bread  to  the 
brigand,  instructing  them  that,  while  one  was  off"ering 
these  gifts,  the  other  should  fall  upon  the  brigand 
and  bind  him  hand  and  foot.  This  done,  they  forced 
him  to  confess  what  was  the  number  of  his  accomplices, 


2  12  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

and  where  they  were  hiding.  Having  ascertained  that 
there  were  only  two,  they  proceeded  to  the  place 
and  succeeded  in  shooting  one  down,  while  the  other 
escaped.  When  the  result  was  reported  to  the  ancient 
miller,  he — and  this  is  the  climax  to  the  horrible 
affair — went  up  to  his  prisoner  and  calmly  cut  his 
throat. 


CHAPTER  XXV 
TO  THE  SOUTH  OF  SERRES 

On  a  fine  autumnal  morning  (September  27)  I  set  forth 
from  Serres  on  the  back  of  an  animal  which  its  owner 
described  as  a  horse.  He  himself  bestrode  a  lowly 
ass,  and  was  armed  with  a  long  thick  cudgel  which, 
he  remarked  with  a  grim  smile,  "  might  prove  useful 
in  an  hour  of  need." 

Thus  mounted  we  crossed  the  Struma,  which  at 
this  point  pursues  a  less  erratic  course  between  fairly 
well-defined  banks,  clothed  with  willows  and  agnus 
castus.  A  drove  of  the  familiar  buffaloes  were  taking 
their  morning  bath  in  the  stream.  They  looked  at  us 
curiously  out  of  their  big  dreamy  eyes,  which  were  the 
only  part  of  their  bodies  visible  above  water.  I  dare 
say  there  was  sufficient  excuse  for  their  curiosity. 
The  Keradji  had  tucked  his  legs  up  on  the  pack- 
saddle,  and,  thus  squatting  with  his  stick  across  his 
knees,  led  the  way  through  the  water.  I  followed 
closely  behind,  feeling  my  poor  horse's  feet  slip  at 
every  step  upon  the  smooth  boulders  in  the  bottom  of 
the  river. 

When  we  emerged  on  the  opposite  bank,  the 
muleteer  turned  sideways,  with  his  feet  dangling 
gracefully  below  his  beast's  belly,  and  entered  into 
conversation  with  me.  In  a  patronising  tone  he 
informed  me  that  he  had  a  son  at  school,  and  that 
he    intended  to    give   him  as    good   an  education  as 


2  14  A  TOUR  IX  MACEDONIA 

could  be  got  by  mule-driving.  His  ambition  went  no 
further.  Being  a  Greek,  he  regarded  education  as 
something  good  in  itself  apart  from  all  utilitarian 
considerations.  To  my  question  what  would  he  make 
of  his  son  afterwards,  he  replied  philosophically  : 

"  He  will  become  what  God  pleases.  It  is  true," 
he  added  after  some  reflection,  "  that  experience  is 
superior  to  book-learning,  but  book-learning  is  also 
good  :   it  opens  a  man's  eyes." 

Then  happened  the  usual  thing.  The  Keradji 
turned  a  little  more  towards  the  tail  of  his  ass,  and, 
looking  up  to  me,  asked  : 

"  And  what  are  you  ?  " 

I  was  not  unprepared  for  this  move,  and  thought 
to  relieve  the  monotony  of  the  journey  by  a  little 
mystification  at  the  muleteer's  expense.  But  being 
only  a  freshman  in  the  art,  I  rather  bungled  matters. 

"  I  am  a  schoolmaster,  my  friend,"  said  I,  boldly 
and  unblushingly,  trying  to  look  like  one  who  is 
speaking  the  truth;  "I  am  going  to  Nigrita  to  take 
my  place." 

"  But  there  is  no  place  at  Nigrita,"  answered  the 
Keradji,  pricking  his  ass  into  a  clumsy  gallop.  "  All 
the  posts  are  already  filled." 

"  Oh,  that  does  not  signify,"  I  rejoined,  with  an 
air  of  importance,   "  I  have  influence." 

The  Keradji  looked  impressed. 

Unfortunately  I  went  on  to  add  what  turned  out 
to  be  a  finishing  touch,  indeed,  though  not  in  the 
sense  in  which  I  meant  it. 

"  You  know  I  am  the  son  of  the  Bishop  of  Serres." 

I  had  forgotten  for  the  moment  that  Greek  bishops 
do  not  marry.  The  effect  of  my  declaration  on  the 
muleteer's  face  apprised  me  of  my  blunder. 


TO  THE  SOUTH  OF  SERRES 


21 


"  What !  "  he  gasped,  pulling  at  his  donkey's  halter 
till  they  both  stood  still,  the  one  gaping  with  mouth 
and  eyes  wide  open,  the  other  wagging  its  tail  sym- 
pathetically. 

"Oh,  I  see,"  said  the  Keradji,  as  soon  as  he  had  some- 
what recovered  from  the  shock,  giving  me  a  friendly 
wink.     "  Such  things  will  happen.    The  flesh  is  weak." 

I  thought  the  only  course  was  to  stick  to  my  guns. 
So,  leaning  over  the  saddle,  I  said  solemnly : 

"  But  this,  you  understand,  is  a  secret." 

"  Oh,  certainly,  certainly.  You  can  trust  me," 
answered  he,  with  a  vigorous  shake  of  his  head,  and 
the  donkey  confirmed  its  master's  promise  in  a  tone 
that  set  my  teeth  on  edge. 

Engaged  in  such  edifying  converse  we  traversed  a 
level  tract  dotted  with  maize  and  cotton  fields  and 
a  few  clumps  of  dwarf  pines,  but  mostly  given  up  to 
the  spontaneous  growth  of  sturdy  weeds.  There  also 
were  several  plantations  of  a  kind  of  millet  (Apa- 
,/3o/ce;(|o/),  but  the  crop  had  been  gathered  and  hung  up 
to  dry  in  bunches  of  small  flat  white  berries,  which 
when  shelled  and  ground  make  an  excellent  substitute 
for  flour,  and  are  likewise  used  in  cooking  in  lieu  of 
rice.  The  maize  fields  presented  a  more  picturesque 
appearance.  The  tall  stalks,  with  their  rich  green 
leaves  and  yellow  tassels  fluttering  in  the  breeze, 
formed  a  very  pleasant  object  for  the  eye  to  rest  upon. 
They  also  aff'orded  a  grateful  shelter  to  a  multitude  of 
crickets  which,  as  the  day  advanced,  began  to  chirp 
blithely  in  the  shade. 

Farther  on  the  Keradji  reined  or  rather  haltered  up, 
saying  that,  if  I  had  no  objection,  he  would  leave  me 
for  a  while  in  order  to  call  at  a  Turkish  country 
gentleman's  seat  on  a  matter  of  business. 


2i6  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

Half- an -hour  later  he  rejoined  me  with  a  smile  of 
satisfaction  on  his  face. 

•'  I  have  settled  it  with  the  Agha,"  he  said,  and 
then  proceeded  to  explain  the  nature  of  his  business. 

"The  other  night,"  said  he,  "I  turned  my  four 
horses  out  upon  the  meadow  to  graze  as  usual.  But, 
as  the  Evil  One  would  have  it,  while  watching  them  I 
was  seized  with  sleep.  When  I  woke  up  I  found  two 
of  the  beasts  gone.  I  looked  for  them  all  over  the 
country,  but  could  find  them  nowhere.  I  guessed  that 
they  must  have  been  stolen  by  the  Mooadjirs  settled 
close  here.  So  I  thought  to  myself :  If  I  go  straight 
to  the  Agha  I  may  get  them  back." 

"  What  can  the  Agha  know  about  your  horses,  or 
is  he  a  magistrate  ?  " 

"  No,  he  is  not  a  magistrate,  but  he  is  something 
better.  He  is  the  patron  of  those  Mooadjirs,  and 
whatever  they  steal  is  concealed  on  his  estate.  So 
he,  if  any  one  in  the  world,  is  certain  to  know  where 
my  horses  are." 

"  1  should  have  gone  to  the  police,  if  I  were 
you. 

The  Keradji  looked  at  me  in  astonishment,  mingled 
with  a  certain  amount  of  pity. 

*'  The  police  !  Why,  if  I  went  to  the  police,  I 
should  be  made  to  spend  in  bakshish  more  than  the 
animals  are  worth,  and  even  then  I  am  not  sure  that  I 
should  get  them  back.  No,  no ;  I  know  better  than 
that.  As  it  is,  the  Agha  has  promised  to  find  them 
for  me,  and  he  only  wants  four  pounds  for  his  trouble. 
He  first  asked  six,  but  he  agreed  to  accept  four." 

Allah  preserve  us  !  I  thought  to  myself,  and  tried 
to  imagine  an  English  country  gentleman  of  the 
present  day  acting  in  the  same  way. 


TO  THE  SOUTH  OF  SERRES  217 

Cattle-lifting  and  horse-stealing  ^yere  two  forms  of 
robbery  of  which  the  whole  district  complained,  and 
they  were  both  attributed  mainly  to  the  Mooadjirs,  or 
Mohammedan  refugees,  who  have  at  different  times 
flocked  into  the  country  from  the  various  emancipated 
states  of  the  Balkans,  the  latest  additions  being  from 
Bulgaria.  Hatred  of  Christian  rule  and  inability  to 
conform  to  the  requirements  of  civilisation  prompted 
them  to  quit  their  homes — if  a  Turk  can  be  said  to 
have  a  home — and  to  seek  shelter  under  the  Sultan's 
tolerant  wing.  In  this  manner  large  numbers  of  idle 
and  destitute  ruffians  have  found  their  way  into  Mace- 
donia, where  they  lead  a  lawless  life  at  the  expense 
of  their  Christian  neighbours.  What  makes  them 
especially  dangerous  is  the  fact  that,  being  Moham- 
medans, they  are  allowed  to  bear  arms,  while  their 
victims  are  for  the  most  part  unarmed  and  defence- 
less. 

About  three  hours  after  leaving  Serres  we  reached 
Nigrita,  the  chief  village  of  the  district,  and  it  was  a 
relief  to  find  oneself  in  a  place  requiring  no  greater 
linguistic  attainments  than  a  knowledge  of  Greek. 
The  whole  country  south  of  Serres,  with  the  exception 
of  the  Mohammedan  settlements,  is  purely  Hellenic. 
Nigrita  is  even  free  from  the  presence  of  the  Turk. 
A  petty  governor  (mudir),  a  scribe  (kiatih),  and  a 
foot-gendarme  (zaptieh)  or  two  form  the  sum  total  of 
Turkish  officialdom,  and  even  these  think  it  best  not 
to  reside  in  the  village  itself  but  at  Sirpa,  the  small 
hamlet  through  which  I  was  just  passing.  A  mosque, 
a  great  plane-tree  crowded  with  birds'  nests,  and  a 
fountain  trickling  beneath — these  were  the  unmistak- 
able signs  of  Turkish  authority. 

There  being  no  inn  in  the  village,  I  relied  for  a 


2i8  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

lodging  on  the  hospitality  of  a  poor  but  refined  family 
to  whom  I  brought  a  letter  of  introduction.  The 
household  consisted  of  two  elderly  maidens  and  their 
mother.  The  former  taught  in  the  village  school,  the 
latter  complained  of  a  chronic  fever,  which  she  was 
pleased  to  attribute  to  the  malignant  agency  of  the 
Spirits  of  the  Air.  They — I  mean  the  ladies — received 
me  with  a  hearty  welcome,  and  prepared  at  once  a 
repast  of  which  they  themselves  were  not  allowed  to 
partake.  It  was  the  anniversary  of  the  Exaltation  of 
the  Holy  Cross,  a  day  on  which  the  faithful  do  nothing 
but  sulk  in  hungry  discontent,  and  eat  nothing  except 
vegetables  boiled  in  water.  But  I,  as  a  traveller 
and  a  stranger,  was  entitled  to  the  indulgence  accorded 
to  such  creatures  by  the  humane  proviso  of  Greek 
canon  law.  Nor  had  I  reason  to  complain  of  the  fare 
set  before  me.  The  menu  included  a  course  of  small 
lake  fish  and  a  course  of  vegetable  marrow,  both  fried 
in  oil ;  brown  bread,  a  water-melon,  and  grapes,  all 
of  excellent  quality,  and  served  up  with  a  neatness 
for  which  my  experiences  in  the  northern  regions  of 
Macedonia  had  not  prepared  me. 

With  these  kind-hearted  folk — whose  goodness  it  is 
as  impossible  for  me  to  forget  as  it  is  to  recollect  their 
name,  such  is  the  bizarre  constitution  of  the  human 
mind — I  stayed  that  day  and  night.  But  on  the 
following  morning  a  well-to-do  Nigritan,  who  lay 
under  an  obligation  to  a  friend  of  mine,  claimed  the 
privilege  of  entertaining  me.  My  first  hosts  were  loth 
to  part  with  me,  but  as  I  plainly  saw  that  they  could 
ill  afford  the  burden  of  an  unpaying  guest — they  had 
scouted  in  the  most  uncompromising  manner  my 
veiled  hints  at  remuneration — I  decided  to  accept 
the.Nigritan's  pressing  invitation  and  make  his  house 


TO  THE  SOUTH  OF  SERRES  219 

my  dwelling  for  the  rest  of  my  sojourn  in  the  district. 
I  had  daily  cause  for  regretting  my  decision.  My  new 
host  appeared  to  suffer  from  a  peculiar  sense  of  humour. 
After  having  enticed  me  to  confess  that  eggs  were  an 
article  of  diet  the  very  sight  whereof  I  could  not  bear, 
he  made  a  point  of  having  eggs  served  up  every  day, 
both  at  dinner  and  at  supper — boiled  eggs,  poached 
eggs,  or  fried  eggs,  sometimes  with  and  sometimes  with- 
out kidneys.  At  every  appearance  of  the  detested  dish 
he  used  to  crack  his  knuckles  and  remark  in  a  genial 
tone  : 

"Ah,  that's  something  that  you  cannot,  eat," — and 
proceed  to  prove  his  superiority  by  devouring  the  lot. 

Excepting  this  lamentable  lack  of  delicacy,  he 
was  a  tolerably  good  Christian,  and  proved  of  signal 
service  to  me  in  my  folk-lore  researches.  He  was 
the  owner  of  a  silk-weaving  establishment,  and  his 
house  from  morning  till  evening  resounded  with  the 
creak  and  crash  of  the  looms,  accompanied  by  the 
wearisome,  but  to  me  valuable,  songs  with  which  the 
w^orkmen  beguiled  the  tedium  of  their  day-long  toil. 

The  manufacture  of  silk  is  the  chief  resource  of 
the  district.  The  wealthiest  of  the  inhabitants  are 
colonists  from  Thessaly,  who,  according  to  a  local 
tradition,  migrated  into  Macedonia  at  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  or  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  centuiy, 
and  brought  with  them  the  hereditary  industry  for 
which  their  old  home  was  famous.  Early  travellers 
in  Greece  have  left  glowing  accounts  of  the  flourish- 
ing condition  of  the  twenty-four  villages  on  Mount 
Pelium,  and  notably  of  Ampelakia,  a  township  which 
in  the  days  before  the  invention  of  the  spinning-jenny 
carried  on  a  lucrative  overland  trade  in  dyed  silk 
thread  with   Western  Europe.     Their  descendants  of 


2  20  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

Nigrita  cannot  rival  that  prosperity.  The  silk  in- 
dustry has  elsewhere  attained  heights  of  development 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  hand-looms  and  primitive 
methods  of  dyeing  still  employed  by  the  Nigritans. 
My  host  grumbled  at  the  severe  competition  of  Euro- 
pean goods  in  the  local  markets,  a  competition  en- 
couraged by  the  wretched  fiscal  system  of  the  country 
which  favours  foreign  imports  to  the  prejudice  of 
native  industry.  Besides,  the  native  manufacturer  is 
handicapped  by  exorbitant  taxation,  want  of  security, 
want  of  means  of  transmission  and  constant  spoliation, 
which  render  the  conditions  of  the  struggle  still  more 
unequal. 

Notwithstanding  these  difficulties  the  Nigritans 
impressed  me  as  enjoying  a  degree  of  comfort  rarely 
found  in  Turkey.  This  is  in  great  measure  due  to 
the  absence  of  Turkish  officials  from  their  midst. 
This  circumstance  also  seemed  to  have  a  marked 
effect  on  the  temper  and  bearing  of  the  people. 
They  spoke  and  laughed  and  moved  with  greater 
freedom  than  most  Macedonian  peasants  dare  assume, 
and  altogether  appeared  to  suffer  least  from  the  be- 
numbing influence  of  the  Turkish  yoke.  There  is  an 
air  of  cheerfulness  and  modest  self-reliance  about  the 
Nigritans  which  recalls  the  peasantry  of  Southern 
Greece.  They  are  very  fond  of  music  and  dancing, 
and  every  Sunday,  as  well  as  every  feast-day,  the 
open  space  in  the  middle  of  the  village  [fxeaoxoypi) 
rings  with  the  songs  and  rhythmic  steps  of  the  village 
maidens. 

It  was  on  the  afternoon  of  the  following  Sunday 
that  I  witnessed  one  of  these  rural  f^tes.  Vespers 
were  just  over.  The  sun  was  declining  toward  the 
west,  and  the  long  shadows  of  the  surrounding  build- 


TO  THE  SOUTH  OF  SERRES  221 

ings  fell  across  the  serried  ranks  of  the  damsels  who 
sat  upon  the  ground  in  patient  expectation. 

The  Nigritan  women,  despite  the  coarse  work  in 
field  and  vineyard,  which  they  share  with  the  men, 
contrive  to  preserve  their  fresh  complexions,  and  when 
on  festive  occasions,  like  the  present,  they  turn  out 
in  their  gorgeous  finery,  it  is  impossible  to  detect  in 
their  countenances  any  trace  of  the  hard  and  laborious 
lives  which  they  lead  on  ordinary  days.  In  this  they 
differ  widely  from  their  Slav  neighbours  of  the  north. 
But,  like  them,  they  overdress  in  broad  silk  petticoats, 
embroidered  aprons  and  short-waisted  jackets,  edged 
with  yellow  fox-fur.  On  their  heads  they  wear  a  low 
red  cap  with  a  long  blue  tassel  wrapped  in  transparent 
gauze,  or  a  simple  crape  kerchief  tied  with  a  coquettish 
knot  on  one  side.  Strings  of  gold  coins  adorn  their 
necks,  and  long  gold  rings  dangle  from  their  ears. 
All  this  ponderous  ornamentation  apparently  has  a 
nuptial  purpose. 

Behind  this  brilliant  galaxy  of  shining  silk  and 
glittering  gold  stood  a  semicircle  of  village  swains, 
absorbed  in  distant  admiration.  Their  attire,  simple, 
masculine,  and  sombre,  seemed  designed  to  set  ofif  the 
splendour  of  the  feminine  group.  A  silver  chain 
across  the  front  of  a  close-fitting  dark  silk  shirt  was 
the  only  jewellery  displayed.  A  long-sleeved  black 
jacket  flung  with  studied  carelessness  over  the  left 
shoulder,  and  a  fez  pushed  back  gave  them  an  air 
of  irresistible  swagger.  So  at  least  seemed  to  think 
the  dark-haired  damsels  who,  with  eyes  demurely  fixed 
on  the  ground,  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  leaders  of 
the  dance.  These  at  last  appeared,  a  ring  was  formed, 
and  then  commenced  the  slow  and  uninspiring  step 
which  passes  for  a  dance  in  the  country. 


22  2  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

After  the  dance  the  assembly  dissolved  into  its 
constituent  elements.  The  youths  repaired  to  an 
open-air  cafe  picturesquely  situated  on  two  terraces 
along  the  slope  of  a  hill.  The  damsels  followed  by 
themselves  and  took  up  their  stations  on  the  heights 
overlooking  the  cafe.  The  youths  played  at  cards  or 
backgammon,  the  stakes  being  coflfee  or  Turkish  de- 
light, but  never  money,  as  gambling  even  on  the 
lowest  scale  is  considered  vulgar.  Now  and  again 
they  would  interrupt  their  games  to  order  refresh- 
ments to  be  sent  to  their  favourites  among  the  fair 
crowd  who,  ranged  in  rows  upon  the  rising  tiers  of 
the  hill,  amused  themselves  with  gossip  carried  on 
in  undertones.  It  was  almost  painful  to  observe  the 
mutual  restraint  which  the  presence  of  each  sex  im- 
posed upon  the  other.  Few  voices  rose  above  a 
whisper.  As  for  loud  laughter  or  any  other  exhibi- 
tion of  mirth,  it  was  a  thing  not  to  be  thought  of. 
As  I  watched  this  depressing  scene,  1  mentally 
breathed  a  wish  that  the  old  French  critic  who 
accused  the  English  of  taking  their  pleasures  sadly 
misrht  have  been  with  me. 

But  with  the  deepening  shadows  of  the  evening 
the  feminine  ranks  began  to  melt  away.  Then  a 
change,  as  great  as  it  was  gradual,  spread  over  the 
youths.  An  incubus  seemed  to  have  been  lifted  off 
their  chests.  Orders  for  arrack  began  to  be  shouted, 
and  there  soon  was  a  general  manifestation  of  a  desire 
to  make  up  for  lost  time.  The  game  tables  and  the 
petroleum  cases,  which  did  duty  as  such,  were  pushed 
off,  and  the  groups  waxed  lively  with  a  joviality  which, 
though  loud,  was  not  rowdy.  Some  discussed  politics, 
local  and  international,  with  a  zest  which  amply  com- 
pensated for  their  want  of  knowledge.     Others  told 


TO  THE  SOUTH  OF  SERRES  223 

stories,  and  a  few  "  with  whom  the  bell-mouth'd  glass 
had  wrought,"  struck  up  comic  songs.  I  especially 
remember  one  party,  the  soul  of  which  was  a  fat  old 
miller. 

He  sat  under  a  mulberry  tree,  surrounded  by  a 
convivial  circle,  who  applauded  his  stories,  encored 
his  songs,  joining  heartily  in  the  chorus,  and  plied 
him  with  drinks.  The  master  of  the  revels  accepted 
the  proffered  libations,  and  honoured  every  toast  with 
the  solemnity  of  incipient  inebriation.  His  fund  of 
humour  kept  pace  with  his  capacity  for  assimilating 
arrack,  and  he  illustrated  his  songs  with  mimic  ges- 
tures which  "  shook  every  diaphragm  with  laughter." 
The  performer  himself  was  transformed  with  glee  ;  his 
eyes  vanished  in  the  depths  of  fleshy  ravines,  his  face 
rippled  with  smiles,  and  his  white  teeth  gleamed 
through  his  grizzled  beard. 

Long  after  the  other  habitues  had  left  the  cafe  this 
party  continued  enjoying  what  a  favourite  author  of 
mine  prettily  calls  "  a  short  spell  of  recreative  exal- 
tation," and  their  simple  spirituous  strains  filled  the 
night  air.  They  did  not  disperse  until  the  yellow 
crescent  of  the  moon  rose  from  behind  the  hills  to 
remind  them  that  it  was  time  to  rest  and  prepare 
themselves  for  the  sober  tasks  of  the  morrow.  Then 
they  staggered  merrily  down  the  slope,  and  their 
voices  died  away  in  the  darkness  of  the  village  lanes. 

So  ended  this  Macedonian  Sunday.  From  a  Puri- 
tan's point  of  view  it  was  not  perhaps  the  ideal  way  of 
spending  the  Lord's  Day.  But,  alas  !  the  Macedonian 
peasant  has  more  of  the  Pagan  than  of  the  Puritan  in 
him.  Though  extremely  religious,  and  even  supersti- 
tious in  many  respects,  these  unregenerate  children  of 
Nature  believe  in    enjoying  their    simple  lives   after 


2  24  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

their  simple  fashion,  and  it  is  in  social  gatherings 
like  the  present  that  they  seek  and  find  an  antidote 
to  the  sufferings  which  they  have  to  endure. 

These  sufferings  are  of  a  manifold  character.  The 
district,  owing  to  its  situation  in  a  broad  plain,  is  less 
infested  with  brigands  than  are  the  more  mountainous 
parts  which  I  had  traversed.  For  those  lords  of  mis- 
rule, though  passionately  fond  of  highland  scenery, 
entertain  a  providential  contempt  for  a  flat  landscape, 
and  seldom  care  to  roam  very  far  from  their  rocky 
strongholds.  But  this  comparative  freedom  from  pro- 
fessional robbers  is  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the 
abundance  of  the  Mohammedan  refugees,  already  men- 
*tioned,  and  by  the  hordes  of  Albanian  and  Wallachian 
nomads  who  during  the  winter  leave  their  upland 
haunts,  and  with  their  herds  and  flocks  wander  over 
the  plains  in  search  of  pasture  and  booty.  One  of 
these  gentry  had  flourished  for  many  a  season  in  the 
district,  and  throughout  the  period  of  his  reign  no 
farmer  dared  to  call  his  cattle  his  own.  The  opera- 
tions of  the  miscreant  extended  far  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  district,  and  oxen,  cows,  mules,  and  horses  from 
far  and  near  found  their  way  to  his  headquarters.  He 
carried  on  his  transactions  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Turkish  authorities,  who  were  sleeping  partners  in  the 
business  and  shared  the  spoils.  His  career  was  at 
last  cut  short  by  the  peasants  themselves,  who,  having 
despaired  of  obtaining  redress  or  protection  from  the 
Government,  took  the  law  into  their  own  hands,  and, 
in  their  own  grimly  picturesque  phrase,  "  sent  the 
robber  to  feed  the  crows." 

Nevertheless  the  Nigritans  keep  a  stout  heart 
within  them  and,  all  things  considered,  make  very 
creditable  progress.     They  maintain  two  churches  and 


TO  THE  SOUTH  OF  SERRES  225 

schools,  attended  by  four  hundred  boys  and  two  hun- 
dred girls,  a  very  fair  proportion  out  of  a  total  popula- 
tion of  four  thousand.  This  is  a  sufficient  proof  of 
the  progressive  spirit  which  animates  the  people.  At 
the  time  of  my  stay  amongst  them  they  were  earnestly 
discussing  a  plan  for  reforming  their  educational 
system  so  as  to  meet  the  modern  need  for  industrial 
and  technical  instruction — a  need  which  is  only  just 
being  realised  amongst  us.  They  even  talked  of  send- 
ing some  of  their  youths  to  Western  Europe  in  order 
to  study  the  latest  improvements  in  the  silk  industry. 

Unfortunately  this  spirit  is  not  permitted  to  assert 
itself  in  any  other  way.  The  roads  are  in  a  deplorable 
state,  and  no  public  works  of  any  kind  are  ever  inaug- 
urated. The  Turkish  municipality  will  neither  erect 
such  works  nor  allow  the  inhabitants  to  do  so  on  their 
own  account.  This  neglect  is  not  due  to  want  of 
funds  ;  for  special  taxes  are  levied  on  everything  that 
can  be  taxed ;  market-duties,  slaughter-duties,  weigh- 
ing-fees, and  imposts  on  all  commercial  transactions 
are  regularly  collected  for  the  avowed  object  of  better- 
ing the  condition  of  the  district  ;  but  so  far  as  one  can 
see,  they  only  serve  to  better  the  condition  of  the 
collectors. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  NIGRITANS  AND  THEIR  NEIGHBOURS 

Besides  the  Nigritans  proper,  there  is  a  quarter  in  the 
village  occupied  by  a  remnant  of  the  ancient  inhabi- 
tants, whom  the  colonists  found  here  on  their  migration 
from  Thessaly.     The  two  elements,  though  both  Greek, 
live  on  terms  of  mutual  and  unaffected  disdain.     The 
aborigines,    even    after   the    lapse    of  a   century,   still 
regard  the  others  as  outlanders,  while  the  new-comers 
describe  their  exclusive  neighbours  as  stupid,  morose, 
and  unsociable  brutes.     They  apply  to  them  the  nick- 
name of  "  jackals,"  and  to  their  quarter  that  of  "  jackal- 
mahallah."     It  is  a  curious,  yet  exquisitely  characteristic 
instance  of  the  tendency  of  the  Hellenic  race  to  split 
into  hostile  sections.     When  there  is  no  geographical 
barrier  to  excuse  and   explain  the   division,   a  purely 
historical  accident,  or  the  memory  of  some  long-dead 
feud,   is    made    to    serve    the    purpose    of    disintegra- 
tion.    The  Greeks  have  not  yet  learnt  how  to  combine. 
"  It  is  the  essence  of  genius  to  be  individual."      In 
commerce  as  in  politics  they  delight  in  units.     Wealthy 
Greek  merchants  can  be  found  everywhere.     Commer- 
cial companies  are  extremely  rare.     You  will  seldom 
see  over  a  shop  an  inscription  indicating  a  combination 
of  capital  or  labour.      Yannis,  Costas,  Metros  in  the 
villages,    or   Pericles,  Epaminondas,   Achilles    in    the 
cities,  like  to  be  independent  of  each  other  in  a  small 

way,  rather   than   to  join    forces    for   a   greater   end. 

226 


THE  NIGRITANS  AND  THEIR  NEIGHBOURS     227 

Competition  comes  more  natural  to  the  Hellene  than 
co-operation. 

Another  cause  which  keeps  the  ill-feeling  between 
the  new  and  the  old  residents  at  Nigrita  alive  is  the 
total  absence  of  any  foreign  race  upon  which  to  exer- 
cise the  talent  for  ridicule  and  vituperation  which 
distinguishes  the  Greek  above  most  of  his  fellow- 
creatures.  At  Melenik  the  satiric  spirit  of  the  people 
finds  an  outlet  in  written  doggerel  pasted  during  the 
night  on  the  walls  of  the  town.  At  Salonica  and 
Serres  I  heard  street  urchins  singing  verses  derogatory 
to  the  intelligence  of  the  Bulgar,  "  the  saltless  and 
onion-headed."  At  Nigrita  there  is  no  Bulgar  in  the 
flesh.  So  the  poor  Nigritans  have  to  content  them- 
selves with  a  substitute.  Anxious  not  to  be  outdone 
by  their  brethren  in  wit,  they  have  recorded  their 
opinion  of  the  hereditary  foe  by  investing  with  the 
title  of  "  Exarch "  the  useful  and  patient  domestic 
animal  elsewhere  known  as  an  ass.  This  ingenious 
expedient  has  done  something  to  satisfy  the  craving 
of  the  Hellenic  soul  for  antagonism,  and  the  Nigritans 
are  thus  enabled  to  keep  their  wrath  at  the  proper 
pitch  by  daily  contact  with  its  object.  In  like  manner 
during  the  last  Greco-Turkish  war,  when  the  Germans 
distinguished  themselves  on  the  wrong  side  of  the 
frontier,  Athenian  cabmen  were  heard  venting  their 
Germanophobia  on  the  backs  of  their  horses,  accom- 
panying the  castigation  with  the  opprobrious  names  of 
Kaiser  and  William. 

These  aberrations  of  patriotic  fervour  notwith- 
standing, there  is  a  great  deal  of  shrewdness  and 
practical  common  -  sense  underlying  the  Nigritan 
character.  To  say  that  they  have  their  own  opinions 
on    everything   that   is    in   heaven    above,    or   in   the 


2  28  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

earth  beneath,  or  in  the  waters  under  the  earth, 
after  having  said  that  they  are  Greeks,  would  be 
superfluous. 

One  of  my  earliest  acquaintances  at  Nigrita  was  a 
grocer.  He  was  a  young  man  of  some  thirty  years  of 
age,  and  in  every  way  the  most  extraordinary  specimen 
of  a  tradesman  that  I  ever  met  even  in  Turkey,  where 
social  classes  are  fused  in  a  manner  found  in  no  other 
part  of  Europe,  and  where  no  man  seems  to  be  in  his 
proper  place  or  to  be  in  any  place  long.  This  gentle- 
man certainly  was  not  in  the  place  for  which  he  was 
intended  by  nature.  He  was  nowhere  less  at  home 
than  in  his  own  shop,  which  appeared  to  be  the  last 
thing  in  the  world  he  cared  to  bestow  a  thought  on. 
Ancient  cobwebs  festooned  the  beams  overhead,  and 
modern  cobwebs  were  woven  by  industrious  spiders  in 
every  nook  and  corner.  For  Mr.  Antoni,  every  minute 
spent  in  his  establishment  was  a  minute  wasted.  He 
was  a  keen  sportsman,  and  he  would  often  take  his 
dog  and  his  old  gun  and  disappear  for  days  together, 
leaving  trade  to  take  care  of  itself.  He  further  pos- 
sessed in  a  marvellous  degree  the  "  soul  of  mincing 
mimicry,"  and  could  whistle  like  a  professional  music- 
hall  artist.  All  these  tastes  and  accomplishments 
clearly  marked  Mr.  Antoni  out  for  anything  but  a 
village  grocer.  To  me  he  was  already  a  great  source 
of  amusement  and  amazement,  when  one  day  I  dis- 
covered that  to  his  other  talents  he  added  a  profoundly 
philosophical  mind. 

I  forget  how  the  conversation  had  led  up  to  it, 
when  the  grocer  propounded  this  riddle  : 

"  Do  you  think,  sir,  that  it  is  possible  for  a  man  to 
go  through  the  academic  course  in  Germany  and  yet 
know  not  a  word  of  German  ? " 


THE  NIGRITANS  AND  THEIR  NEIGHBOURS     229 

"  Well,"  I  answered,  "  I  should  certainly  think  it 
rather  difficult.     But  why  do  you  ask?" 

'*  Our  doctor  over  the  way  has  a  German  diploma, 
and  yet  he  knows  as  much  German  as  a  newly-fledged 
cuckoo.  He  says  that  he  has  lost  it  all  through 
illness." 

Mr.  Antoni  paused,  waiting  for  an  answer, 

"  There  have  been  instances  of  people  forgetting 
things  through  illness,"  said  I,  guardedly. 

"Yes,  that's  quite  true — sense  of  identity  and  all 
that,"  rejoined  the  grocer,  unsatisfied.  "But,"  he 
pursued,  shaking  his  head  severely  at  the  doctor's 
domicile  across  the  road,  "  if  this  was  one  of  those 
cases,  along  with  the  language  he  ought  to  have  for- 
gotten the  science  which  he  professes  to  have  learnt 
through  the  medium  of  that  language.  The  two  things 
are  inseparable.     Do  you  not  agree  with  me  ? " 

I  was  at  a  loss  for  an  answer.  The  grocer's 
subtlety  no  less  than  his  vocabulary  had  left  me 
speechless.  My  astonishment  rose  still  higher  when 
I  heard  my  collocutor  go  into  the  subject  of  innate 
and  acquired  ideas,  concepts,  notions  and  what  not, 
quoting  Aristotle  and  Plato  and  German  psychology. 
I  availed  myself  of  an  interval  to  ask  Mr.  Antoni 
where  he  had  picked  up  all  that  knowledge,  and  he 
informed  me  that  he  had  attended  the  fifth  form  of  the 
Gymnasium  of  Serres,  adding  reflectively  : — 

"  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  better  for  me  had  I 
been  taught  the  properties  of  silk  and  cotton  instead 
of  the  functions  of  the  human  mind.  It  took  me  two 
years  to  unlearn  my  Plato,  before  I  could  settle  down 
to  ordinary  business." 

"It  does  not  look  as  if  you  had  quite  settled  down 
yet,"  I  answered,  laughing. 


2  30  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

"  Well,  a  life  ivithout  a  holiday  is  a  long  road 
without  an  inn,  as  the  old  philosopher  says." 

Thus  spoke  Mr.  Antoni,  grocer,  of  Nigrita. 

Of  course  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  every 
peasant  in  Macedonia  is  a  man  who  can  quote 
Democritus  and  discuss  psychology,  but  the  fact 
that  such  men  do  exist  among  the  lower  classes 
is  a  circumstance  significant  of  much.  It  shows 
that  there  must  be  something  radically  wrong  with 
a  regime  which  condemns  such  men  to  sell  cheese 
and  sardines  across  the  greasy  counter  of  a  village 
shop. 

Our  discourse  was  interrupted  by  the  entry  of  a 
little  girl  carrying  two  eggs  in  her  hand : — 

"  Mother  has  sent  me  with  these  eggs — they  are 
newly  laid.  How  many  reels  of  thread  will  you  give 
me  for  them  ?  " 

This  new  question  put  psychology  to  flight.  The 
philosopher  was  instantly  metamorphosed  into  a  plain 
bargainer.  He  held  the  eggs  up  to  the  light,  closed 
one  eye  and  examined  them  with  the  other,  and 
then  deliberately  handed  her  two  reels  of  thread  in 
exchange. 

Barter  flourishes  in  a  country  which  suffers  from 
chronic  bankruptcy,  and  now  and  again  it  gives  rise 
to  singularly  humorous  situations.  For  instance,  the 
exchange  of  a  new  suit  of  clothes  for  a  donkey  is 
by  no  means  an  unusual  occurrence.  The  same 
animal  is  also  sometimes  accepted  by  the  Turkish 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  as  legal  tender  for  the 
income-tax,  as  will  appear  in  the  sequel. 

A  good  illustration  of  the  financial  chaos  which 
prevails  throughout  the  empire  is  afforded  by  the 
currency.     80  difficult  it  generally  is  to  obtain  small 


THE  NIGRITANS  AND  THEIR  NEIGHBOURS     231 

change  that  copper  pieces  long  obsolete  in  the  larger 
towns  on  the  coast  still  circulate  in  the  interior.  In 
some  districts,  like  Nigrita  and  Sirpa,  a  local  coinage 
is  in  use,  bearing  on  the  reverse  the  crescent,  with 
the  Greek  letters  N2  engraved  between  its  horns. 
In  other  places,  again,  the  tradesmen  are  obliged  to 
coin  tin  tokens  in  order  to  meet  the  demands  of  their 
customers. 

The  scarcity  of  copper  pieces  is  simply  due  to 
the  indolence  of  the  Government  and  to  their  in- 
difference to  the  interests  of  the  people.  But  the 
confu^sion  in  the  value  of  gold  and  silver,  though 
arising  from  deeper  causes,  is  no  less  bewildering  to 
the  stranger.  The  Turkish  pound,  he  finds,  in  some 
districts  is  worth  100  piastres,  in  others  108,  112,  or 
120.  This  difference  often  applies  to  various  trades 
in  one  and  the  same  district.  The  Government 
offices  follow  one  valuation,  the  innkeepers  have 
another,  the  muleteers  a  third,  and  so  on.  Need- 
less to  comment  on  the  multitude  of  forged  money. 
No  wonder  that  the  profession  of  money-changer  is 
a  lucrative  one,  as  the  numerous  dirty  little  tables 
kept  by  dirty  descendants  of  Abraham  at  the  corners 
of  the  streets  amply  testify. 

These  features,  added  to  the  fear  of  brigandage 
on  the  open  roads  by  day,  the  darkness  and  dangers 
of  the  streets  at  night,  and  the  barbarous  picturesque- 
ness  of  the  country  generally,  carry  the  traveller  back 
to  a  state  of  things  which  the  modern  European  can 
only  dimly  realise,  with  a  shudder,  from  the  descrip- 
tions of  historic  novelists.  A  tour  through  Macedonia 
is,  so  far  as  I  know,  the  best  training  for  an  intelli- 
gent appreciation  of  such  books  as,  say,  Bulwer's 
Last  of  the  Barons. 


232  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

All  this  time  vintage  was  in  full  swing,  and  from 
my  observatory  behind  Mr.  Antoni's  counter  I  could 
see  processions  of  grape-laden  donkeys  marching  past, 
each  carrying  a  pair  of  colossal  baskets.  The  new 
wine  had,  no  doubt,  something  to  do  with  the  hilarity 
of  the  people.  But  this  state  of  Bacchic  beatitude 
was  not  destined  to  last  long.  To  everybody's  sur- 
prise and  dismay  it  was  one  day  announced  that 
the  Taxilday^s,  or  tax-gatherers,  who  were  not  due 
till  March,  had  arrived  at  Serres,  and  would  soon 
be  at  Nigrita.  The  news  spread  with  the  quick- 
ness of  an  electric  shock,  and  the  bright  buoyancy 
of  a  few  hours  before  was  succeeded  by  dark  de- 
pression. 

The  head-man  of  the  village  summoned  the  council 
of  elders  in  all  haste  that  they  might  draw  up  the  lists 
of  tax-payers  and  assign  to  each  one  his  share  of  the 
common  burden.  The  Turkish  method  of  taxation  is 
a  masterpiece  of  simplicity :  a  lump  sum  based  on  a 
rough  computation  of  the  population  is  demanded 
from  every  village,  and  the  distribution  of  it  among 
the  different  individuals  is  left  to  the  villagers  them- 
selves. This  system  is  not  of  Ottoman  invention. 
The  Turk  has  originated  nothing,  not  even  abuses. 
The  village  council  of  the  present  day  is  a  survival 
of  the  Roman  curia,  or  board  of  landowners,  imported 
into  the  Eastern  Empire  by  Constantine  the  Great. 
Like  its  ancient  prototype,  this  council  is  responsible 
for  the  taxes  due  by  each  freeholder  in  the  district, 
and  is  obliged  to  make  up  all  deficits.  A  similar 
system  prevails  in  Russia,  and  is  considered  by  many 
as  the  chief  source  of  the  agricultural  distress  in 
that  country.  Collective  responsibility  of  the  village 
communes  in  regard  to  the    payment    of   taxes    has 


THE  NIGRITANS  AND  THEIR  NEIGHBOURS     233 

been  found  to  encourage  laziness  and  consequent 
ruin.  In  Turkey  matters  are  even  worse.  The  in- 
cidence of  taxes  accordinti;  to  districts  destroys  all 
stimulus  for  individual  exertion  and  initiative  on  one 
hand,  while  the  establishment  of  Imperial  tax-gatherers 
over  the  head  of  the  responsible  board  on  the  other, 
opens  the  door  wide  to  corruption  and  extortion,  as 
these  gentlemen  can  claim  the  tax  when  they  like, 
and  in  some  cases  as  often  as  they  like.  A  respite, 
if  obtained  at  all,  has  to  be  dearly  bought.  Arrears 
are  not  objected  to  as  a  rule;  but  the  peasant  who 
does  not  pay  at  once  has  to  pay  more  than  once  in 
the  long-run.  He  is  often  flatly  refused  a  receipt 
for  what  he  has  already  paid,  or  he  is  given  a  false 
receipt.  In  either  case  he  finds  himself  shamefully 
cheated,  yet  helpless.  An  appeal  to  the  law  would 
only  mean  additional  fleecing.  In  a  country  where 
every  wheel  of  the  judicial  machinery  has  to  be 
liberally  greased  before  it  can  be  made  to  move,  a 
lawsuit  is  a  luxury  beyond  the  reach  of  the  peasant's 
purse. 

Again,  the  taxes  are  so  heavy  in  themselves,  and 
are  often  swelled  to  such  dimensions  by  the  extortions 
of  the  local  officials,  that  the  peasant  sometimes  finds 
it  more  profitable  to  destroy  his  property.  Orchards 
are  thus  frequently  cut  down  and  crops  uprooted, 
because  the  dues  are  out  of  all  proportion  to  the 
value  of  the  produce.  Even  taxes  which  have  been 
formally  abolished  by  the  Government  are  still  col- 
lected by  the  tax-gatherers,  "  by  mistake."  On  the 
whole,  the  Macedonian  is  perhaps  the  most  heavily 
taxed  of  any  peasant  in  the  world,  always  excepting  his 
fellow-subjects.  Apart  from  land-tax  and  tithe,  he 
pays  a  tax   for  exemption   from  the  military  service, 


2  34  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

which,  as  a  Christian,  he  is  not  allowed  to  enter.  He 
pays  a  tax  for  education  which  he  never  receives  from 
the  State.  He  pays  a  tax  for  roads  and  bridges  which 
are  never  built.  In  short,  he  pays  a  tax  on  everything 
he  buys,  on  everything  he  sells,  on  everything  he  im- 
ports, on  everything  he  exports,  on  everything  he 
carries,  on  everything  he  weighs,  on  everything  he 
possesses,  and  on  many  things  which  he  does  not 
possess. 

The  manner  in  which  these  impositions  are  collected 
adds  to  the  severity  of  the  ordeal,  and  at  the  same  time 
forms  its  most  repulsive  and  galling  feature.  In  other 
countries  the  tax-payer  is  spared  as  much  as  possible 
the  vexation  of  official  visits,  and  every  care  is  taken 
to  make  the  potion  as  palatable  as  the  nature  of  the 
case  will  permit.  In  Macedonia  quite  the  opposite 
principle  obtains.  The  tax-payer  is  not  considered 
entitled  to  any  superfluous  tenderness.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  seems  as  though  the  Turkish  official  does  not 
think  that  he  has  done  his  duty  properly  until  he  has 
made  the  patient  drain  the  bitter  cup  to  the  dregs. 
He  gloats  over  the  sufferings  which  he  causes,  and 
derives  a  fiendish  enjoyment  from  the  sight  of  the  pain 
which  he  inflicts.  The  reader  will  gain  a  glimpse  of 
the  situation  shortly.  Meanwhile  the  board  of  notables 
has  assembled  at  Nigrita. 

The  council  consisted  of  twelve  elders  and  two 
youths  who  volunteered  to  assist  them  as  secretaries. 
Its  seat  was  a  rush  mat  spread  under  the  shadow  of  the 
church  belfry,  and,  as  the  day  advanced,  shifted  round 
in  chase  of  the  shadow.  Most  of  the  Twelve  were  old 
in  years  as  well  as  in  name  ;  they  were  all  dressed  in 
the  garb  of  the  country :  baggy  breeches,  voluminous 
sashes,  and  dark  shirts.     Some  wore  a  feeble  imitation 


THE  NIGRITANS  AND  THEIR  NEIGHBOURS     235 

of  a  Turkish  turban  in  the  form  of  a  silk  kerchief 
wound  round  their  fezes ;  a  few  blinked  over  brass- 
rimmed  spectacles  poised  over  massive  and  suspiciously 
rubicund  noses.  Thus  equipped  they  sat  cross-legged 
in  a  circle,  nursing  their  socked  feet  with  one  hand, 
and,  perchance,  handling  a  cigarette  or  a  rosary  with 
the  other.  The  registers  were  produced  and  opened 
upon  two  empty  boxes  of  Batoum  petroleum.  The 
name  of  each  householder  was  read  out,  his  financial 
position  was  briefly  discussed,  his  rightful  portion 
of  the  tax  was  allotted  to  him,  recorded  in  ink  and 
dried  with  earth,  which  did  duty  for  pounce — blotting- 
paper  has  not  yet  come  into  fashion.  There  was  a 
vast  deal  of  noise,  but  no  disorder,  in  the  deliberations 
of  this  rustic  assembly.  Indeed,  these  untutored 
peasants  in  the  discharge  of  their  financial  functions 
seemed  to  me  to  display  a  degree  of  public  spirit, 
equity,  and  ability  which  would  have  done  credit  to 
many  a  more  pretentious  board,  and,  frankly  speaking, 
I  should  be  sorry  to  see  the  system  swept  away.  What- 
ever its  shortcomings  may  be,  there  is  no  doubt  that  it 
gives  scope  to  the  exercise  of  some  fine  human  qualities. 
If  Nicolas  had  come  down  in  the  world,  Demetrius, 
who  was  well  off,  was  made  to  pay  for  him.  George, 
who  had  two  sons,  both  able-bodied  and  industrious, 
should  assist  his  poor  decrepit  neighbour  John,  whose 
children  were  too  young  to  be  anything  but  a  burden 
to  their  parent,  and  so  forth.  An  occasional  sally  of 
rustic  wit  enlivened  the  proceedings,  veiling  by  a  cloak 
of  comedy  the  tragic  skeleton  of  fact.  The  scene, 
metaphorically  as  well  as  literally,  was  a  blend  of  sun- 
shine and  shadow,  not  unpleasant  to  the  disinterested 
observer. 

On  the  following  day  appeared  the  taxildars,  at- 


2  36  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

tended  by  a  strong  detachment  of  gendarmerie.  An 
uncleanly  troop  of  Hebrew  vultures  hovered  in  the 
wake  of  the  officials,  lured  by  the  smell  of  prey.  As 
the  visitation  was  unexpected  many  of  the  poorer 
peasants  were  unable  to  raise  the  money  at  such  short 
notice.  Some  of  them  were  imprisoned  and  flogged, 
while  their  homes  were  ransacked  and  everything  worth 
anything  was  confiscated  ;  neither  the  family  meal-tub 
nor  the  maiden's  trousseau  was  spared.  Others,  again, 
lost  their  cattle  or  their  mules.  Among  the  latter  was 
the  carrier,  one  of  whose  animals  I  had  engaged  for 
my  departure.  To  crown  all,  the  gendarmes  were 
quartered  on  the  peasants,  and  in  return  for  this  forced 
hospitality  they  committed  all  the  outrages  of  which 
an  armed  and  irresponsible  gang  of  starving  men  is 
capable. 

That  night  was  spent  by  the  taxildars  and  their 
myrmidons  in  revel  and  carousal — by  the  peasants  in 
fear  and  trembling.  I,  for  my  part,  looked  forward 
to  the  morning  which  would  enable  me  to  get 
away  from  a  scene  of  misery  which  moved  my  in- 
dignation without  supplying  me  with  the  means  of 
relieving  it. 

When  I  found  that  my  muleteer  had  come  to 
grief,  I  hastened  to  look  for  another,  and  after  a 
great  deal  of  dilficulty  discovered  one  who  said  that 
he  could  accommodate  me.  I  chartered  his  mule, 
and  a  native  schoolmaster  on  his  way  to  his  village 
engaged  a  donkey  belonging  to  the  same  man.  This 
schoolmaster  was  to  be  my  companion  part  of  the 
way. 

Before  retiring  to  rest,  my  host  entreated  me  to 
make  this  state  of  things  known  in  England.  This 
was  not  the  first  nor  the  last  occasion  on  which  similar 


THE  NIGRITANS  AND  THEIR  NEIGHBOURS     237 

entreaties  were  addressed  to  me.  These  simple  folk 
are  under  the  delusion  that  Great  Britain  is  destined 
to  be  their  saviour.  They  do  not  know  that  British 
statesmen  have  loftier  ends  in  view  than  a  quixotic 
crusade  for  the  rescue  of  the  oppressed. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

FROM  NIGRITA  TO  TACHINO 

Next  morning  the  schoolmaster,  mounted  sideways 
on  his  ass,  myself  astride  on  my  mule,  and  the 
keradji  on  foot,  set  off  from  the  weaver's  house  in 
the  centre  of  the  village.  It  was  still  pitch-dark. 
People  in  the  East  are  anxious  to  avoid  the  heat 
of  the  sun,  and  I  was,  therefore,  not  surprised  at 
the  heradji's  eagerness  to  start  before  daybreak.  I 
was  soon,  however,  to  learn  that  this  was  not  the 
only  reason. 

We  had  scarcely  gained  the  open  plain  when 
our  progress  was  arrested  by  an  incident  which  took 
my  breath  away,  but  which  did  not  seem  to  excite 
any  great  emotion  in  my  companions.  A  couple  of 
gendarmes  suddenly  sprang  from  under  a  hedge  and 
held  up  our  beasts. 

"  Show  your  receipt,"  demanded  one  of  them, 
addressing  himself  to  the  muleteer. 

'*  I  have  not  one." 

"Then  back  you  go,  O  son  of  a  mangy  dog  !  " 

The  son  of  the  afflicted  dog  said  that  he  would 
go  back  and  speak  to  his  father  about  it,  and  he 
departed,  leaving  us  in  the  hands  of  the  Ishmael- 
ites. 

I  endeavoured  to  reason  with  them,  pointing  out 
how  unfair  it  was  that  our  time    should  be  wasted, 

because,  forsooth,  the  keradji  had  failed  to  pay  his 

238 


FROM  NIGRITA  TO  TACHINO  239 

taxes.  They  remained  obdurate,  answering  all  my 
arguments  with  a  stereotyped  "Olmaz! — It  cannot  be!" 
accompanied  with  an  energetic  shake  of  the  head 
upwards,  which  is  the  Eastern  way  of  emphasising 
a  negative. 

I  then  applied  the  lessons  of  past  experience  to 
the  present  emergency,  and  offered  to  our  captors 
that  argument  to  which  no  Turk  has  ever  refused 
to  listen.  The  music  of  silver  soothed  the  savage 
breasts  of  the  gendarmes,  and  they  consented  to  let 
my  mule  go  ;  but  they  still  insisted  on  retaining  the 
schoolmaster's  donkey.  The  latter  stoically  bowed 
to  the  inevitable,  and  we  resumed  our  pilgrimage 
with  one  mount  between  us.  I  thereupon  proposed 
that  we  should  ride  the  mule  turn  and  turn  about, 
but  my  companion  declined  the  offer  with  a  degree 
of  earnestness,  which  suggested  that  he  dared  not 
trust  himself  on  anything  more  spirited  than  a  broken- 
hearted ass. 

"  Indeed,  sir,  I  would  much  rather  go  apostolika 
— in  the  fashion  of  the  apostles " — he  said,  and 
swung  his  umbrella  with  the  air  of  one  accustomed 
to  apostolic  ways. 

Thus  we  jogged  on  until  we  reached  a  tchiftlik 
called  Gheorgala.  The  schoolmaster  knew  the  bailiff 
who  was  in  charge  of  the  estate,  and  he  obtained 
from  him  the  loan  of  a  mare,  beside  which  Rosinante 
would  have  looked  absurdly  stout.  No  instrument 
except  a  ruler  seemed  to  have  been  employed  in  the 
creation  of  this  animal.  Its  framework  presented  as 
many  acute  angles  and  straight  lines  as  any  figure 
in  Euclid.  A  saddle  had  just  been  placed  in  a  re- 
ceptacle formed  naturally  by  the  combination  of  a 
concave   spine    and    two    outstanding    haunch-bones, 


240  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

and  the  schoolmaster,  mounted  on  a  stool,  was  in  the 
act  of  throwing  his  leg  over  the  saddle,  with  all  the 
care  required  by  the  fragile  nature  of  his  beast,  when 
the  keradji  overtook  us,  panting  and  puffing. 

"Ah,  they  have  let  you  go  after  all,"  he  said, 
mopping  his  face  with  a  big  red  handkerchief.  "  The 
accursed  sons  of  Hagar  have  made  us  waste  the 
dewy  time  of  day.     May  the  devil  take  them  ! " 

*'  Have  you  seen  your  donkey  1 "  asked  I. 

"  My  donkey  ?     Where  is  it  ? " 

"  The  sons  of  Hagar  have  detained  it." 

Hereupon  the  keradji  uttered  a  hasty  expression 
unsuitable  for  print.  Then,  the  bitterness  of  grief 
over,  he  added  : — 

"I  don't  care.  Let  them  keep  it.  Its  value  is 
about  the  amount  I  owe.  So  we  are  quits,  the  Sultan 
and  I." 

"  What  did  your  father  say  ? " 

"My  father?  I  have  not  seen  my  father.  He 
is  locked  up  in  a  cool  place,"  he  said,  wiping  the 
perspiration  off  his  forehead,  with  a  sigh  of  envy  of 
his  father's  cool  abode,  and  then  continued :  "  I  knew 
he  was  in  prison  since  last  night ;  I  only  went  to 
escape  from  the  gendarmes." 

He  gradually  explained  that  his  father  had  a  small 
quantity  of  corn,  which  he  must  now  sell  for  what 
it  will  fetch,  and  make  up  the  sum  by  borrowing. 
So  he  would  weather  the  storm  for  a  while.  All  this 
was  said  in  a  tone  of  callous  indifference,  born  of 
familiarity,  and  more  eloquent  than  any  outburst  of 
indignation.  I  thought  of  the  Jews,  with  their  ready 
money  and  greedy  eyes,  and  felt  sorry  for  the  poor 
wretch.  A  more  miserable  instance  of  a  hand-to- 
mouth  existence  could  not  easily  be  found. 


FROM  NIGRITA  TO  TACHINO  241 

"  It  is  like  burning  your  bed  in  order  to  get  rid  of 
the  fleas,"  commented  the  stoical  schoolmaster  sen- 
tentiously,  and  we  moved  on. 

The  influence  of  this  regime  on  the  morals  of  the 
people,  as  I  have  already  pointed  out,  is,  if  possible, 
even  more  pernicious  than  the  material  ruin  which  it 
works.  Robbed  right  and  left,  they  appear  to  have  lost 
all  sense  of  the  diff'erence  between  meum  and  tuum. 
Of  this  the  keradji  by-and-by  furnished  me  with  a 
fresh  proof.  I  had  noticed  a  scar  over  his  brow,  and 
asked  him  how  he  had  come  by  it. 

"  Oh,  that's  a  wound  I  received  some  time  ago  in  a 
fight  with  the  field-keepers,"  he  said.  "  Some  other 
muleteers  and  myself  were  one  day  passing  by  a  vine- 
yard, and,  hungry  as  we  were,  we  stopped  to  pick 
some  grapes.  The  keepers  saw  us  and  tried  to  drive 
us  out.  We  came  to  blows,  and  I  got  the  cut  which 
you  see." 

"Did  you  not  know  that  stealing  is  wrong?"  said 
I,  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  preach. 

"It  was  not  stealing,  sir.  It  was  only  grapes.  God 
has  given  grapes  for  man  to  eat.  One  oke  (3  lbs.)  more 
or  less  does  not  signify." 

"If  each  of  you  had  one  oke,  and  did  the  same 
thing  for  a  week,  methinks  there  would  not  be  much 
left.  But,  of  course,  you  are  right.  Grapes  were 
given  for  man  to  eat." 

"Yes,  but  what  about  the  man  who  planted  and 
pruned  the  vines,  and  watered  them  with  the  sweat 
of  his  brow?"  rejoined  the  honest  sinner,  stung  by 
the  irony  of  my  remark,  or  ambitious  to  score  a 
point. 

"You  ought  to  have  thought  of  that  before  you 
attempted  to  reap  where  another  man  had  sown,"  said 

Q 


242  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

I  severely,  and  dropped  the  sermon.  "  But  did  not 
the  affair  reach  the  ears  of  the  police  ? " 

"  Oh  yes,  and  they  wanted  me  to  bring  an  action 
against  the  field -keepers  —  they  thought  it  would 
give  them  a  chance  of  squeezing  some  money  out 
of  the  owner  of  the  vineyard.  But  I  am  no  fool. 
Not  I.  The  less  you  have  to  do  with  the  law  the 
better." 

"  Especially  when  you  have  not  much  of  a 
case." 

The  keradji  laughed. 

The  schoolmaster,  who  had  been  listening  to  our 
dialogue  in  silence,  now  opened  his  mouth  and  pon- 
derously quoted — 

•'  Zeus  deprives  man  of  half  his  manhood,  when  the 
day  of  slavery  overtakes  him." 

My  friend  had  evidently  read  his  Homer  to  some 
purpose,  and,  in  spite  of  his  mare,  I  was  beginning  to 
respect  him  for  his  attainments ;  but  at  that  very 
moment,  as  the  god  of  laughter  would  have  it,  he  did 
something  by  which  he  forfeited  for  ever  all  claims  to 
serious  treatment  at  my  hands.  He  spread  his  um- 
brella— an  immense  combination  of  faded  cotton  and 
rusty  iron — over  his  head,  and  in  so  doing,  completed 
the  picture  which  he  already  presented  on  the  back  of 
his  equine  skeleton. 

Meanwhile  we  passed  several  marshes  bristling 
with  reeds  and  rushes.  These  marshes  supply  the 
material  for  the  mats  largely  manufactured  in  the  dis- 
trict, and  also  breed  the  microbes  to  which  the  low- 
lands of  Macedonia  owe  their  well-deserved  reputation 
as  hotbeds  of  malaria.  They  are  formed  by  the  shallows 
of  the  Struma,  which  gradually  develop  into  Lake 
Tachino.      On  the  erratic  movements  of  rivers  I  have 


FROM  NIGRITA  TO  TACHINO  243 

already  had  occasion  to  comment.  I  may  add  here 
that  when  a  stream  alters  its  course,  the  Government 
loses  no  time  in  claiming  the  land  left  dry  as  state 
property.  But  it  neither  compensates  those  whose 
fields  have  been  swallowed  up  by  the  new  channel, 
nor  does  it  take  any  pains  to  prevent  a  similar  disaster 
in  the  future. 

Soon  after  we  reached  the  village  which  straggles 
along  the  shore  of  the  lake,  and  derives  therefrom 
both  its  name  and,  in  a  great  measure,  the  means  for 
existence.  It  is  a  squalid,  woe-begone  little  hamlet, 
consisting  of  some  six-score  shanties,  with  the  plaster 
falling  off  their  sides,  and  exposing  to  view  the  plaited 
reeds  of  which  the  upper  walls  are  built.  Several 
droves  of  swine — not  of  the  sleek  and  cultured  species 
common  in  England,  but  huge,  bristly,  black  savages, 
fii'st-cousins  to  the  wild  boars  of  the  mountains — 
wallowed  complacently  in  the  mud,  testifying  by  their 
presence  to  the  pure  Christianity  of  the  village ;  for 
Islam  and  swine  never  herd  together. 

We  dismounted  at  the  door  of  the  school,  which 
was  my  fellow-traveller's  destination.  He  invited  me 
to  go  in  and  have  some  food  before  crossing  the  lake, 
and  I  gratefully  accepted  the  invitation. 

The  school  was  in  harmony  with  the  sty  aspect  of  the 
village.  Repeated  outpourings  of  ink  had  lent  to  the 
floor  the  appearance  of  a  map  of  the  world  on  a  large 
scale,  while  the  walls  bore  evidence  of  the  cacoethes 
scribendi,  the  characteristic  malady  of  youthful  scholars 
the  world  over.  The  schoolroom  contained  a  dozen 
rows  of  decayed  desks  covered  with  initials  carved 
deeply  into  them.  I  should  not  have  been  at  all  sur- 
prised had  I  found  a  class  of  young  pigs  ranged  behind 
them.     Above  the  master's  desk  there  hung  an  icon 


244  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

of  Christ,  and  in  the  desk  lay  a  register  from  which 
the  following  are  a  few  flowers  culled  at  random  : — 

"  Demetrios  Kephalas :  left  on  the  15th  of  March  afflicted 

by  frequent  attacks  of  fever. 
Athanasios  Nicolaides:  left  on  the  same  day  through 

his  parents'  whim. 
Alexandros    Hadjiyannis :    left   owing    to    his    father's 

death." 

These  and  similar  entries  showed  that  what  with 
illness,  unreasonable  parents,  and  death,  my  learned 
friend  managed  to  get  rid  of  a  good  many  of  his 
disciples  before  the  end  of  the  year. 

Other  observations  formed  epigrammatic  studies 
of  the  scholars'  characters.  One  was  described  as 
"  naughty,  but  clever  ;  "  another  as  **  very  intelligent, 
quiet,  and  industrious  ;"  a  third  as  "  somewhat  super- 
ficial, yet  good  and  industrious ; "  a  fourth  seemed  to 
harbour  within  his  tiny  bosom  all  the  vices  of  which 
a  schoolboy's  nature  is  capable.  He  was  stigmatised 
in  superlative  terms  as  "  most  insubordinate,  most 
cunning,  and  most  lazy." 

The  schoolmaster's  voice  from  the  other  room 
brought  my  unofficial  inspection  to  an  end.  I  found 
him  making  coffee  over  a  spirit-lamp  in  a  cold,  grimy 
fireplace.  His  abode  left  much  to  be  desired  in  the 
matter  of  elegance.  A  few  rush-mats  covered  part 
of  the  floor  ;  the  rest  was  smeared  with  grey  earth. 
A  mattress  stood  rolled  up  against  one  wall,  and  a 
low  divan  occupied  the  opposite  side. 

Having  poured  out  the  coffee  into  a  cup,  which 
at  some  earlier  stage  of  its  career  had  parted  company 
with  its  handle,  he  took  down  from  a  shelf  a  quarter 
of  a  loaf  of  brown  bread,  which,  to  judge  by  its  appear- 


FROM  NIGRITA  TO  TACHINO  245 

ance,  must  have  occupied  that  position  ever  since  the 
end  of  last  term,  some  three  months  before.  I  have 
seen  in  the  British  Museum  Babylonian  and  Assyrian 
clay  tablets,  inscribed  with  archaic  cuneiform  signs. 
They  looked  less  indigestible  than  this  loaf.  But 
hunger  covers  a  multitude  of  failings,  or,  as  my  host 
put  it  in  his  vigorous  vernacular,  "The  stomach,  sir, 
has  no  windows."  Armed  with  this  powerful  con- 
solation and  a  lead  fork,  I  attacked  the  small, 
bony  lake-fish,  which  my  kind  host  had  in  the  mean- 
time fried  for  me,  and,  despite  the  malodorous  flavour 
of  the  oil  and  the  flinty  complexion  of  the  bread,  I 
made  an  excellent  lunch.  I  should  have  mentioned 
that,  after  having  excavated  some  two  inches  into 
the  bowels  of  the  loaf,  I  reached  layers  that  yielded 
quite  easily  to  the  knife. 

Then  we  sipped  our  cofi'ee  and  smoked  contraband 
tobacco. 

After  this  eolithic  repast  I  went  out  in  search  of 
the  means  of  crossing  the  lake.  The  quest  took  me 
more  than  an  hour,  but  at  last  I  managed  to  find 
a  karavohyris,  or  boatman,  willing  to  row  me  across 
for  twenty  piastres  (about  4s.).  The  schoolmaster 
came  down  to  the  shore  to  bid  me  hatevodion.  I 
shook  hands  with  him  and  stepped  on  board.  He 
waved  his  red  handkerchief  at  me  for  a  few  seconds, 
and  then  vanished  from  my  sight  for  ever.  But  his 
image,  uncouth,  unclean,  and  kind,  will  dwell  with 
me  as  long  as  sense  of  the  incongruous  endures. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

A   VOYAGE    AND   AN    IDYLL 

The  vessel  on  which  I  embarked  was  a  long  flat- 
bottomed  fabric,  built  of  rough  planks  smeared  over 
with  tar.  It  was  pointed  at  both  ends,  stem  and 
stern  alike,  after  the  fashion  of  an  Indian  canoe,  of 
which  it  possessed  all  the  primitive  simplicity  without 
any  of  the  grace.  Two  heavy  oars,  attached  to  out- 
riggers by  a  thong,  were  pulled  by  the  wiry  old 
Jcaravohyris  who  stood  at  one  end. 

I  spread  a  rug  in  the  middle  of  this  marvellous 
parody  of  a  boat,  and,  with  a  sunshade  overhead,  lay 
on  my  back  listening  to  the  rhythmic  plash  of  the  oars, 
the  gurgling  of  the  water  at  the  bow,  and  the  heavy 
flopping  of  the  flat  bottom  upon  the  greenish  waves. 
A  gentle  breeze  blew  from  the  land  and  mitigated 
in  some  measure  the  intense  heat  of  the  sun,  which 
was  reflected  on  the  tarred  sides  of  the  vessel.  Thus 
I  glided  slowly  on,  "wrapt  in  a  pleasing,  soft,  and 
death-like  rest,"  deliciously  sweet  after  the  weary  mule- 
ride  of  the  morning. 

Tachino  is  a  beautiful  lake,  abounding  in  water- 
flowers  and  water-fowls.  In  parts  it  might  be  described 
as  a  floating  garden.  The  surface  for  miles  around 
is  sown  with  water-lilies,  white  and  yellow,  and  broad- 
leaved  plants  producing  a  hard  pricky  nut  curiously 
shaped  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  but  to  which  the  limited 

character  of  my  botanical  attainments   forbids   me  to 

246 


A  VOYAGE  AND  AN  IDYLL  247 

assign  a  name.  The  shores  bristle  with  the  needles 
of  rush-forests,  which  advance  far  into  the  lake.  In 
the  midst  of  these  plants  may  be  seen  a  long-necked 
and  long-beaked  stork  proudly  stalking  along  with  the 
air  of  an  oriental  autocrat  surveying  his  dominions. 
Ever  now  and  again  he  stoops  with  a  majestic  curve  of 
his  neck  to  pick  up  an  unfortunate  frog  or  fish,  which 
soon  disappears  in  the  depths  of  his  capacious  throat. 
Flocks  of  black  wild  ducks  disported  themselves  in 
the  shallows,  and  white  kingfishers  skimmed  the  water 
or  dived  after  their  finny  game. 

For  about  two  and  a  half  hours  we  coasted  in  a 
south-easterly  direction,  hugging  the  shore,  which 
was  here  and  there  animated  by  the  presence  of 
meditative  cows  and  grazing  horses,  or  by  herds  of 
bufi'aloes  immersed  in  the  cool  waters,  so  that  nothing 
but  patches  of  their  black  spines  and  their  curved 
horns  showed  above  the  surface.  Then  we  struck 
across  the  lake,  and  glided  on  for  another  hour  over 
its  still  smooth  bosom,  with  nothing  to  break  the 
silence  except  the  plashing  of  the  big  ponderous  oars 
of  the  boat,  the  rippling  of  the  wavelets  severed  by 
its  pointed  bow,  and  the  liquid  tinkling  of  cattle-bells 
from  the  receding  shore. 

The  lake  is  intersected  by  reed-fences  which 
emerge  a  few  feet  from  the  water,  forming,  as  it 
were,  parallel  lines  of  lilliputian  fortifications,  with 
an  occasional  opening  for  the  passage  of  boats.  A 
higher  tower  rises  at  intervals,  with  perhaps  a  soli- 
tary stork  mounting  guard  over  it.  These  are  the 
permanent  nets  by  which  are  captured  the  small 
bony  fish  whereof  I  had  partaken  at  noon. 

Meanwhile  the  breeze,  at  first  so  soft  and  low, 
gradually  waxed  stronger.     The  waves  began  to  beat 


248  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

more  heavily  against  the  sides  of  the  boat,  the  flat 
bottom  flopped  with  a  louder  thud  and  danced  a 
livelier  step  over  the  wrinkled  waters,  and  I  was 
beginning  to  realise  the  meaning  of  the  phrase  "a 
storm  in  a  tea-cup."  But  there  was  no  chance  of 
a  shipwreck.  The  glory  of  an  Odysseus  was  not 
to  be  mine.  The  opposite  shore  was  already  drawing 
near.  The  white  cottages  of  a  village  on  the  slopes 
of  a  low  hill  gleamed  in  the  sun,  while  farther  back 
rose  the  bare  and  beetling  rocks  of  Mount  Pangseum 
dimly  outlined  against  the  brilliant  sky.  This  was 
Rhodolivos,  a  Greek  village,  containing  also  some  fifty 
Turkish  houses.  Several  other  Greek  villages  lie 
between  the  shore  and  the  foot  of  the  mountain, 
but  they  were  not  visible  from  this  part  of  the 
lake. 

At  last,  after  a  five  hours'  delightful  trip,  we 
grounded  our  craft  among  a  flotilla  of  similar  vessels 
in  a  small  rush-grown  harbour  belonging  to  Doxamvos, 
a  poverty-stricken  hamlet  of  some  two-score  dilapi- 
dated huts  scattered  over  the  rising  shore.  From 
the  midst  of  these  cottages  rose  a  fair-sized  but 
sadly  neglected  church,  with  a  flock  of  crows  and 
rooks  hovering  over  it,  as  if  in  the  expectation  of 
its  speedy  dissolution.  Some  peasants  were  mending 
their  seines  on  the  shore,  others  were  overhauling  a 
boat,  while  a  group  of  semi-naked  gipsies  squatted 
in  the  sun  busy  plaiting  the  reeds  out  of  which  the 
Jcalamotais,  or  fishing-fences,  of  the  lake  are  con- 
structed. 

Not  far  from  this  hamlet  I  noticed  the  mouth  of 
a  river,  but  could  obtain  no  information  concerning 
it  except,  what  indeed  was  patent  even  to  my  un- 
tutored   eyes,  that   "  it    came    from    over  there,"  this 


A  VOYAGE  AND  AN  IDYLL  249 

description  being  illustrated  with  a  sweep  of  the 
hand  which  embraced  a  quarter  of  the  horizon. 

The  karavokyris  undertook  to  procure  a  mount 
for  me  and  landed,  leaving  me  in  the  boat.  As  I 
pride  myself  on  judicial  impartiality  and  a  conscien- 
tious adherence  to  facts,  I  will  here  chronicle  one 
which  does  small  credit  to  the  otherwise  irreproach- 
able boatman.  Our  covenant  was  that,  in  return 
for  a  sum  of  twenty  piastres  silver,  plus  "  what  your 
honour  may  please,"  the  aforesaid  karavokyris 
pledged  himself  to  land  me  safe  and  sound  at  Kiup- 
Kioi — or  some  equally  cacophonous  kioi — situated 
an  hour  and  a  half's  distance  farther.  Instead  of 
which  he  landed  me  at  Doxamvos,  thereby  proving 
himself  to  be  what  a  Turk  would  have  called  "the 
son  of  a  graceless  dog." 

I  did  not  detect  this  abominable  treachery  until 
too  late  for  useful  altercation.  When  I  did  find  it 
out,  however,  I  resolved  to  punish  him  by  withholding 
the  discretionary  addition  to  the  stipulated  fee.  It 
is  pleasant  to  play  the  r61e  of  Justice,  especially  if 
you  save  money  thereby. 

What  rendered  the  crime  doubly  odious  in  my  eyes 
was  the  premeditated  malice  underlying  it.  By  his 
breach  of  contract  the  karavokyris  aimed  at  a  two- 
fold gain — first  to  save  himself  an  additional  outlay  of 
energy,  and  secondly  to  oblige  a  friendly  muleteer  with 
the  present  of  a  helpless  fare.  It  is  true  that  the  altera- 
tion of  the  route  involved  no  material  loss  to  me,  as 
the  distance  from  both  villages  to  my  destination 
was  nearly  the  same.  But  this  did  not  extenuate 
the  offence  in  the  least.  On  the  contrary,  the  fact 
that  I  was  not  a  sufferer  through  the  deed  lent  to 
my  decision  the  weight  of  disinterestedness. 


2  50  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

While  I  lay  in  the  boat  brooding  over  these  matters 
and  composing  my  heart  to  judicial  sternness,  the 
crafty  old  Charon  reappeared,  followed  by  an  indi- 
vidual who  led  a  grey-haired  creature  by  a  rope 
attached  round  its  neck.  The  creature  could  only 
be  called  a  quadruped  by  poetic  licence  or  by  biassed 
affection.  In  point  of  fact,  it  possessed  no  more 
than  three  efficient  legs.  The  fourth  was  presumably 
meant  as  an  ornament,  for  it  served  no  practical 
purpose.  This  was,  however,  the  sole  available 
beast  in  the  village,  and  I  could  not  afford  to  be 
fastidious. 

Acting  in  direct  opposition  to  all  the  dictates  of 
reason  and  my  own  decision,  I  yielded  to  the  old 
man's  lamentations  in  the  matter  of  bakshish.  After 
which  I  dismissed  him  and  all  thoughts  of  Rhada- 
manthine  rigour  and  turned  my  attention  to  the 
zoological  phenomenon  before  me.  Having  surveyed 
it  critically  for  a  few  minutes  I  mounted  to  find  that 
the  saddle,  owing  to  the  animal's  peculiar  conforma- 
tion, persisted  in  slipping  off  its  back.  I  dismounted 
and  requested  its  master  to  divest  himself  of  his  jacket. 
He  stared  at  me  in  stupid  wonder : — 

"My  jacket,  sir?" 

"  Yes,  thy  jacket,  my  friend." 

When  he  had  taken  off  his  jacket,  I  bade  him 
fill  it  with  stones  and  hang  it  bag-wise  on  the  lighter 
side  of  the  saddle.  He  obeyed,  not  cheerfully,  mutter- 
ing the  while  dark  things  about  insanity,  of  which, 
as  they  could  not  possibly  concern  me,  I  took  no 
notice. 

Having  thus  redressed  the  balance  of  things,  I 
settled  on  that  pinnacle  of  discomfort  and  set  off  on 
a  broken   chalky   path.     After   one    hour's   laborious 


A  VOYAGE  AND  AN  IDYLL  251 

limping  I  gained  the  crest  of  the  ridge,  and  from  that 
eminence  looked  into  a  deep  valley  gay  with  tobacco- 
fields.  Down  this  valley  I  limped,  stoutly  resisting 
all  my  mule's  attempts  at  genuflexion,  until  I  reached 
the  first  of  two  brooks,  which  roll  noisily  across  the 
vale  and  finally  join  the  anonymous  river  which  "  came 
from  over  there."  Provista  was  at  the  farther  end. 
I  forded  this  stream  and  gained  the  opposite  bank, 
which  hid  the  village  from  sight.  Then  I  descended 
into  the  gravelly  bed  of  the  second  brook.  Its  steep 
banks  were  overshadowed  by  ancient  plane-trees,  whose 
rich  foliage  whispered  mysteriously  in  the  breeze.  Two 
fountains  rippled  beneath  their  boughs,  and  close  by 
several  peasant-maids  were  engaged  washing  clothes 
and  spreading  them  out  on  the  smooth  shiny  pebbles. 

They  looked  up,  attracted  by  the  intermittent 
clatter  of  my  three-legged  mount,  and  exchanged 
hilarious  comments  thereon.  Their  laughter  mingled 
so  agreeably  with  the  murmur  of  the  fountains  and 
the  mystic  psithyrisms  of  the  trees,  that  I  willingly 
forgave  them  their  impertinence,  and  allowed  myself 
to  drift  toward  them. 

I  reined  in  beside  one  of  the  fountains,  at  which 
a  tall  willowy  damsel  was  filling  her  pitcher.  And 
the  damsel  was  very  fair  to  look  upon,  and  I  was  very 
thirsty.     So  I  said  : — 

"  Give  me,  I  pray  thee,  a  little  water  of  thy  pitcher 
to  drink." 

And  she  replied  : — 

"Both  drink  thou,  and  I  will  also  withdraw  my 
pitcher  that  thy  mule  may  drink  likewise." 

And  I,  carried  away  by  the  Biblical  charm  of  the 
scene  and  by  the  witchery  of  the  damsel's  large  black 
eyes,  asked  her,  not  for  information,  but  for  the  sake 


252  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

of  hearing  the  music  of  her  voice — **  so  soft,  so  sweet, 
so  delicately  clear  " — and  said  : — 

*'  Whose  daughter  art  thou  1 " 

And  she  answered  : — 

"  Mind  thine  own  business,  O  stranger  !  " 

And  I  went  away  crest-fallen  and  corrected,  pon- 
dering over  the  difference  between  Mesopotamia  in 
the  days  of  Abraham  and  Macedonia  in  my  own. 

Thus  I  halted  up  the  slope  on  which  spreads  the 
village  of  Provista.  A  church  belfry  and  a  minaret, 
rising  side  by  side,  showed  in  a  striking  manner  that 
here  also  the  Koran  and  the  Gospel  lived  in  hostile 
proximity. 

As  I  entered  the  village,  a  second  damsel  came 
forth  with  her  pitcher  on  her  shoulder.  She  was  not 
fair  to  look  upon.  So  I  made  bold  to  ask  her  to 
direct  me  to  the  house  of  the  man  to  whom  I  was 
recommended.  And  she  made  haste  and  let  down 
her  pitcher  from  her  shoulder,  and  showed  me  the 
way.  And  I  bowed  down  my  head  and  offered  her 
a  silver  coin,  which  she  declined.  Thereupon  I  offered 
her  a  water-lily  from  my  belt,  which  she  accepted  with 
a  modest,  maidenly  blush,  and  forthwith  ceased  to  look 
plain. 

Verily,  'tis  not  always  the  fairest  vessel  that  con- 
tains the  sweetest  wine. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

A  NIGHT  AT  PKOVISTA 

My  host  was  a  prosperous  tradesman,  who  spoke  Greek 
to  his  child,  but  Wallachian  to  his  wife  and  mother, 
though  they  also  could  speak  pure  and  fluent  Greek, 
and  called  themselves  Greeks.  They  received  me  in 
the  simple  yet  cordial  fashion  which  distinguishes  the 
better  class  of  the  inhabitants  of  Macedonia,  and 
ushered  me  into  the  best  room  of  the  house ;  an  airy, 
clean,  and  comfortably-furnished  apartment,  command- 
ing an  extensive  prospect  of  the  valley  and  the  lake 
beyond.  My  host,  his  little  child,  and  I  sat  on  a  sofa 
near  the  window,  and  were  just  in  time  to  enjoy  a 
splendid  view.  The  sun  was  sinking  behind  the  violet 
mountains  across  the  lake,  and  for  a  few  minutes  the 
latter  was  turned  into  a  veritable  lake  of  fire.  Soon, 
however,  the  red  flames  died  out,  and  the  waters  began 
to  shimmer  beneath  a  sky  now  enveloped  in  the  grey 
twilight  of  evening. 

Provista,  my  host  informed  me,  notwithstanding 
its  picturesque  situation,  is  not  a  health  resort  by  any 
means.  The  mountains  which  surround  it  make  it 
excessively  hot  in  summer  and  proportionately  cold  in 
winter,  while  the  neighbourhood  of  the  marshy  lake  is 
a  perennial  source  of  malaria,  the  common  curse  of 
Macedonian  valleys.  Nor  are  the  political  and  social 
conditions    of    the    district    more    healthy   than    the 

physical.      Our   conversation   was    occasionally  inter- 
ass 


2  54  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

rupted  by  my  host's  son  and  heir.  The  father  subdued 
the  child's  restlessness  with  the  characteristic  threat : 
"  If  you  do  not  keep  still,  I  will  take  you  to  the 
Konak!"  (or  Government  House).  The  bugbears  of 
most  children  die  with  age.  Those  of  the  children  of 
Macedonia  become  more  and  more  substantial  with  the 
advance  of  years  and  experience. 

I  complimented  my  host  on  the  looks  and  size  of 
his  frolicsome  son. 

"  Oh,  don't  mention  it,  sir,"  he  said,  hastily. 

I  could  see  that,  in  spite  of  the  string  of  crosses 
and  phylacteries  with  which  the  boy's  neck  was  loaded, 
his  parent  was  in  fear  of  the  Evil  Eye. 

"  He  is  not  big  for  his  age,"  he  continued.  "  If 
he  were  a  girl,  he  would  be  double  this  height  by 
now.  Females  grow  much  more  quickly,  thanks  to 
the  devil." 

"  How  is  that?"  I  queried  in  amazement. 

"  Oh,  don't  you  know  ?  The  devil  pulls  them  up 
by  the  nose  and  makes  them  grow." 

The  entrance  of  his  wife  saved  me  from  the  difficult 
task  of  making  a  suitable  reply  to  this  ungallant 
speech.  Evidently  the  eastern  mind  entertains  no 
doubts  on  the  origin  of  sin. 

Refreshments,  accompanied  by  contraband  tobacco 
and  miscellaneous  talk,  filled  the  time  until  dinner 
was  announced.  This  repast  was  served  out  in  the 
hall  on  a  low  circular  table,  round  which  we  sat  on 
cushions,  the  ladies  of  the  house  as  well  as  the  men — 
an  arrangement  which  impressed  me  as  a  sign  of 
uncommon  refinement.  Among  the  peasants  of  Mace- 
donia women  as  a  rule  wait  on  the  guests,  but  do  not 
sit  down  to  dinner  with  them.  In  this  household, 
however,  everything  was  conducted  in  a  style  suggesting 


A  NIGHT  AT  PROVISTA  255 

high  civilisation  :  the  plates  were  changed  after  every 
course,  and  the  knives  and  forks  were  handled  with  an 
air  of  familiarity. 

A  neighbour  dropped  in  after  dinner,  and  we  sat 
up  far  into  the  night,  discussing  the  state  of  the 
country  and  the  consequences  of  the  last  Greek  cam- 
paign. What  they  said  confirmed  my  own  observa- 
tions. That  travesty  of  a  war,  besides  the  damage 
which  it  inflicted  on  Greece  directly,  served  indirectly 
to  rivet  more  firmly  than  ever  the  chains  which  hold 
the  Christian  population  of  Turkey  in  bondage.  Before 
that  event  the  prevailing  spirit  among  the  Turks  was 
one  of  fatalistic  despondency,  deepened  by  every  new 
curtailment  of  the  Sultan's  dominions.  They  were 
accustomed  to  talk  of  their  lease  of  occupation  drawing 
near  its  end.  Indeed,  many  of  them  had  made  up 
their  minds  that  the  day  had  come  when  they  would 
have  to  decamp  out  of  Europe  "  bag  and  baggage." 
Even  while  the  preparations  for  the  struggle  were 
pushed  on,  the  Mohammedans  of  Macedonia  were 
anxious  to  obtain  from  their  Christian  neighbours  the 
promise  that  they  would  protect  them  from  the  Greek 
troops,  should  the  latter  prove  victorious.  But  all  this 
was  changed  by  the  result  of  the  Thirty  Days'  War. 

The  defeat  of  the  Greeks  has  revived  the  Turk's 
belief  in  his  own  invincibility,  and  convinced  him  that 
his  empire  in  Europe  has  obtained  an  extension  of  life. 
This  feeling  finds  a  material  expression  in  the  improve- 
ment of  the  military  organisation  of  the  country.  All 
the  money  that  can,  and  a  great  deal  that  cannot,  be 
spared  from  the  current  expenditure  of  the  Government, 
is  devoted  to  the  purchase  of  arms,  and  to  the  erection 
of  barracks  and  fortifications.  The  civil  service  is 
starved   for   the    sake  of  the   military.     "Voluntary" 


256  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

contributions  and  forced  loans  are  the  order  of  the 
day.  An  addition  of  six  per  cent,  on  all  taxes  was 
established  in  1900,  and  its  proceeds  are  said  to  be 
intended  for  the  revival  of  the  navy.  Ships  which  for 
twenty  years  had  served  the  harmless  purpose  of  sup- 
plying mussels  and  oysters  with  shelter,  were  roused 
to  warlike  activity.  It  is  true  that  their  engines  during 
that  period  of  perpetual  holiday  had  forgotten  how  to 
work,  that  the  boilers  refused  to  boil,  and  that  the 
limits  between  deck  and  sea  could  not  always  be  clearly 
defined.  Still  an  effort  was  made,  and  the  awakening 
of  the  Sultan's  navy  was  hailed  by  the  Turks  as  addi- 
tional evidence  of  their  own  vitality. 

This  new-born  interest  in  martial  affairs  is  supple- 
mented by  many  diplomatic  manoeuvres,  all  pointing 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  Leader  of  the  Faithful  is 
animated  by  one  desire — namely,  to  tighten  his  grip  on 
the  provinces  left  to  him,  and,  by  gradually  shaking  off 
the  control  of  Europe,  to  recover  the  position  held  by 
his  predecessors  in  the  palmy  days  when  the  Sultan 
of  Turkey  was  known  to  the  obsequious  princes  of 
Christendom  as  the  Grand  Seigneur.  It  is  with  that 
end  in  view  that  the  Padishah  makes  periodical 
attempts  to  restrict  and  hamper  the  activity  of  inter- 
national institutions,  based  on  treaties,  such  as  the 
foreign  post-offices,  the  Board  of  Health,  and  the  reli- 
gious missions.  But  none  of  these  experiments  has 
hitherto  brought  anything  but  humiliation  upon  him. 
The  European  Powers  have  proved  that,  be  their  mutual 
jealousies  what  they  may,  they  can  always  present  a 
united  front  when  their  common  interests  are  menaced. 

Living,  as  he  does,  in  close  proximity  to  two  great 
rival  forces — Panslavism  and  Pangermanism — which 
occasionally  choose  his  own  territory  as  a  battlefield,  it 


A  NIGHT  AT  PRO  VISTA  257 

is  not  surprising  that  Abdul  Hamid  has  caught  from 
them  the  fever  of  expansion.  The  only  marvel  is  that 
the  malady — in  its  Turkish  manifestation  termed  Pan- 
islamism — has  not  yet  reached  a  critical  stage.  But 
there  can  be  little  doubt  that  sooner  or  later  the  world 
will  hear  something  to  its  disadvantage  from  Constan- 
tinople. In  the  meantime,  the  Sultan  humours  the 
European  Powers  by  seemingly  yielding  to  their  de- 
mands for  reform. 

How  unreal  and  futile  all  such  reforms  are  can 
easily  be  seen.  One  of  the  more  recent  concessions 
is  the  appointment  of  Christian  Mooavins,  or  Vice- 
Governors,  to  the  provinces ;  another  is  the  admission 
of  the  Christians  into  the  ranks  of  the  gendarmerie. 
When  the  representatives  of  the  late  famous  Concert 
wrested  these  reforms  from  the  Porte,  they  fondly  be- 
lieved, or  affected  to  believe,  that  they  had  at  last 
secured  the  Christian  rayahs  from  oppression.  What 
the  Sultan  seriously  thought  no  one  knows.  But  what 
he  did  is  another  proof  of  the  sense  of  humour  with 
which  he  is  credited  by  some.  The  Mooavins  were 
appointed  with  a  loud  flourish  of  trumpets,  and,  to 
Europe's  unspeakable  delight,  they  were  invested  with 
gorgeous  uniforms.  But  the  Sultan  took  very  good 
care  that  they  should  not  be  overwhelmed  with  duties 
involving  initiative  and  responsibility.  Real  authority 
they  possess  none.  They  are  mere  puppets  in  the 
hands  of  the  Turkish  Valis  and  their  Councils.  The 
slightest  semblance  of  self-assertion  on  their  part  is 
sure  to  result  in  disgrace.  Those  who  appointed  them 
can  dismiss  them,  and  then  others  will  wear  their 
gorgeous  uniforms.  The  Mooavins,  conscious  of  the 
delicacy  of  their  position,  wisely  prefer  to  do  their 
master's  work,  and  to  earn,  if  possible,  their  master's 

R 


258  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

wages,  but  in  any  case  to  wink  hard  and  hold  their 
tongues.  Their  complaisance  has  earned  them,  even 
among  the  Turks,  the  derisive  title  of  Evetdji,  or 
"  Yes,  men." 

The  gendarmerie  reform  ended  in  a  similar  farce. 
The  few  Christians  who  were  permitted  to  enlist 
were  victimised  by  their  Mohammedan  colleagues 
and  officers  to  such  a  degree  that  they  hastened  to 
resign  at  the  earliest  opportunity,  and  by  so  doing 
they  enabled  the  Sultan  to  say,  "  You  see,  Gentle- 
men of  the  Concert,  we  invited  the  Christians  to  join 
the  ranks,  but,  lazy  dogs  that  they  are,  they  will  not 
avail  themselves  of  the  privilege."  Whereupon  the 
Members  of  the  Concert  change  their  tune,  leaving 
the  Sultan  to  enjoy  their  discomfiture  after  his  own 
fashion. 

In  such  discourse  we  spent  the  remainder  of  the 
evening,  and,  when  bedtime  came,  I  was  shown  into 
a  room  where  a  luxurious  bed  had  been  spread  on  the 
floor  for  me.  It  is  the  custom  of  the  people  to  lavish 
on  their  guests  all  the  finery  at  their  command,  and 
that  night  I  slept  between  sheets  "  softer  than  sleep 
itself,"  and  under  a  velvet  quilt  which  a  fairy  prince 
would  not  have  despised.  I  had  only  one  dream,  in 
which  a  three-legged  mule  played  a  leading  part.  It 
appears  that  I  was  under  a  moral  obligation  to  tra- 
verse Mesopotamia  from  one  end  to  the  other  on  its 
back,  the  prize  for  this  labour  being  the  hand  of 
Bethuel's  daughter.  Unfortunately  dawn  overtook  me 
long  before  the  accomplishment  of  my  task,  and  I 
then  recollected  that  the  young  lady  in  question  had 
been  another's  for  some  time. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

ON  THE  ROAD  TO  ANGHISTA 

Next  morning,  after  the  slight  apology  for  a  meal 
with  which  the  Eastern  world  breaks  its  fast,  I  was 
provided  with  a  genuine  four-legged  mule,  and,  having 
taken  leave  of  my  hosts,  started  on  my  way  to  An- 
ghista,  the  nearest  railway  station,  where  I  intended  to 
take  the  train  back  to  Serres. 

The  muleteer  who  accompanied  me  was  a  native 
of  Provista,  a  kilted,  sinewy,  nimble-footed  and 
nimble-tongued  villain  of  some  seventeen  years.  Lite- 
rally, as  well  as  metaphorically,  he  was  not  the  sort 
of  man  to  let  the  grass  grow  under  his  feet,  and  in 
the  course  of  our  short  acquaintance  he  gave  me 
ample  evidence  of  his  preternatural  precocity.  Like 
most  of  his  confreres  with  whom  I  had  hitherto 
associated,  he  appeared  anxious  to  investigate  my 
antecedents. 

"Who  is  your  worship?"  he  asked  at  an  early 
stage  of  our  journey,  but,  like  an  artful  teacher  bent 
on  hoodwinking  the  school  inspector,  he  himself  sup- 
plied me  with  the  answer  : 

"  I  suppose  you  are  a  mining  engineer?" 

My  experience  of  Turkish  travel  had  impressed 
upon  me  the  inadvisability  of  publishing  one's  identity, 
so  I  permitted  the  muleteer  to  enjoy  his  shrewd  sur- 
mise. But  the  wily  youth  did  not  for  a  moment  really 
think  that  I  had  aught  to  do  with  mines.     He  merely 


26o  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

mentioned  the  subject  in  order  to  display  his  own 
knowledge,  and  soon  waxed  abstruse  on  chromium, 
manganese,  and  other  things  which,  I  believe,  are 
to  be  found  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  though  I  had 
never  had  the  curiosity  to  look  for  them  there,  or 
anywhere  else. 

Our  path  wound  over  the  amphitheatre  of  hills 
which  closes  the  valley  on  the  north,  and  its  rugged- 
ness  was  such  that  even  a  sure-footed,  four-legged 
mule  and  a  well-sandalled  muleteer  could  tread  it 
with  the  utmost  difficulty.  The  hills  on  both  sides 
of  the  track  rose  to  a  considerable  height,  and  in  the 
cheerless  twilight  of  early  morn  presented  a  bare  and 
desolate  look,  which  was  accentuated  by  the  only 
token  of  human  habitation  within  sight.  This  was 
a  ruined  and  deserted  Mohammedan  cemetery  on  a 
lonely  plateau  a  little  way  back  from  the  track.  The 
very  name  of  the  village  in  which  its  dead  tenants 
must  have  moved  and  had  their  being  once,  was  for- 
gotten, and  no  vestige  of  its  existence  now  remained 
save  these  white  tombs,  looming  weirdly  in  the  bleak 
dawn,  amidst  an  undergrowth  of  weeds.  A  solitary 
crow  alighted  on  a  slanting  headstone  and  sat  thereon, 
a  veritable  "  watcher  by  the  dead." 

The  mute  pathos  of  the  sight  was  not  lost  upon 
my  impressionable  companion. 

•'  Do  you  see  yon  graves,  sir  ? "  he  said,  pointing 
with  his  stick  to  the  plateau.  "My  father  used  to 
say  that,  long  years  ago  when  he  was  a  boy,  the 
brigands  wiped  off  the  Mohammedan  village  which 
stood  close  by." 

This  remark  led  the  conversation  to  the  most 
ordinary  topic  in  Macedonia,  and  my  companion 
grew  loquacious  upon  it. 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  ANGHISTA  261 

'*  Did  you  ever  come  across  my  friend  George  in 
Salonica?"  he  suddenly  queried. 

"  I  have  come  across  several  Georges  in  my  time, 
my  good  fellow,"  said  I.  "But  Salonica  is  a  large 
place,  you  know.  "  What  sort  of  a  man  is  your 
friend  George,  and  in  what  part  of  the  town  does 
he  reside  1 " 

"  He  resides  in  the  White  Tower,  sir,"  answered 
the  youth  in  a  calm,  matter-of-fact  tone. 

The  White  Tower,  alias  the  Bloody  Tower,  the 
reader  may  rememher,  is  an  old  fortress  now  used  for 
the  accommodation  of  criminals  of  the  deepest  dye. 

"  Oh,"  said  I,  beginning  to  get  uncomfortably  in- 
terested in  the  subject.  "Pray,  what  brought  him 
there  ? " 

The  muleteer  proceeded  in  the  same  natural 
manner  to  inform  me  that  his  friend  George  had, 
during  the  previous  summer,  left  his  field  in  order 
to  join  a  band  of  brigands. 

"  Life  is  so  very  slow  in  the  plains,  sir.  What 
with  the  Kainuikams  and  the  AgJias,  and  one  thing 
and  another,  one  wants  a  change  now  and  again.  So 
my  friend  George  joined  the  party.  They  meant  to 
have  just  one  shot  and  retire.  A  rich  merchant  fell 
into  their  hands.  According  to  the  custom  of  the 
country  they  held  him  to  ransom,  and,  having  divided 
the  money  in  a  friendly  way,  they  each  went  to  their 
homes.  But  they  had  made  one  mistake  :  they  had 
forgotten  to  square  the  authorities,  and  so  they  came 
to  grief.  The  others  got  wind  of  the  danger  and  made 
good  their  escape.  But  my  friend  George,  poor  lad, 
one  day,  as  he  quietly  ploughed  his  field,  was  surprised 
by  the  zaptiehs  and  taken  to  Salonica.  That's  how 
he  got  to  reside  in  the  White  Tower." 


262  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

When  the  muleteer  finished  his  story,  I  commented 
that  now,  at  all  events,  his  friend  George  would  have 
ample  time  to  ruminate  on  the  mutability  of  human 
affairs. 

"  Life  is  like  a  wheel :  what  is  up  to-day,  to-morrow 
is  down,"  moralised  the  rascal,  with  a  sigh  that  might 
have  issued  from  Solomon's  own  heart. 

"  It  is  a  pity  he  did  not  take  the  authorities  into 
his  confidence,"  pursued  I. 

"It  was  foolish  of  him,"  admitted  the  muleteer. 
"But  then,  you  see,  sir,  he  was  young  and  new  to 
the  business.     He  will  know  better  next  time." 

I  began  to  feel  that  the  bosom  friend  of  a  dweller 
in  the  Bloody  Tower  was  not  the  most  desirable  sort 
of  a  travelling  companion  at  that  time  and  place. 
But  it  would  have  been  unwise  to  show  my  dis- 
trust. So  I  remarked,  by  way  of  continuing  the 
conversation : — 

"I  did  not  know  there  were  any  brigands  in  this 
neighbourhood." 

"  Are  brigands  ever  wanting  in  Macedonia  1 "  re- 
plied the  muleteer,  with  a  reassuring  smile,  and  a 
look  of  astonishment  at  my  simplicity. 

I  was  not  sorry  to  perceive  the  first  signs  of  day- 
break, and  felt  better  still  when  shortly  after  I  found 
myself  on  the  open  plain  within  sight  of  the  solitary 
streak  of  railway  and  of  the  red-tiled  roof  of  the  neat 
little  station,  cheerfully  reflecting  the  rays  of  the  rising 
sun.  The  lake  scintillated  far  away  on  the  left.  The 
space  between  was  bare  and  parched,  a  single  excep- 
tion being  presented  by  a  small  tchiftlih  close  to  the 
road.  The  few  buildings  on  it  were  surrounded  by  a 
tiny  plantation  of  poplars  whose  silvery  leaves  rustled 
and  glimmered  pleasantly  enough.    Another  proof  that 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  ANGHISTA  263 

we  were  back  to  the  realms  of  civilisation  was  offered 
by  our  track,  for  here  and  there  it  disclosed  a  patch  of 
a  pavement  consisting  of  loose  cobbles,  which  tried  my 
mule's  patience  sorely,  and  did  not  tend  to  improve  its 
temper  or  its  speed. 


CHAPTER    XXXI 

AT  THE  STATION 

I  REACHED  my  destination  much  earlier  than  I  had 
been  led  to  expect ;  for  my  host,  with  the  lack  of 
sense  of  space  common  to  the  peasants  of  most 
countries,  had  overestimated  the  distance.  My  arrival 
at  the  station  was  greeted  with  a  furious  onslaught 
on  the  part  of  three  big  shaggy  brutes,  which  rushed 
at  my  mule  with  gleaming  teeth  and  bristling  hair. 
I  was  endeavouring  to  ward  oflf  their  demonstrations 
of  affectionate  joy  with  my  whip,  when  a  gendarme  in 
a  pair  of  trousers  and  one  shoe  darted  out  and  pacified 
the  dogs  with  a  few  well-directed  kicks.  He  then 
proceeded  to  cover  me  with  abuse,  and  with  many 
oaths  wanted  to  know  who  I  was,  and  whence  I 
came. 

I  now  found  myself  confronted  with  a  type  of  Turk 
entirely  different  from  the  courteous  Kaimahams,  who 
contented  themselves  with  seeing  through  my  thin 
disguise,  and,  far  from  hating  me  for  it,  treated  me 
to  coffee  and  salaams.  They  looked  upon  my  incog- 
nito as  a  tacit  tribute  to  their  might,  and  felt  flattered 
thereby.  To  tell  this  monoslippered  ruffian,  however, 
that  I  was  a  Redacteur  du  X —  de  Salonique,  who 
had  consecrated  his  life  to  collecting  subscriptions 
for  the  same,  would  have  been  sheer  waste  of  a  useful 
fable. 

In  this  predicament  literature  came  to  my  rescue. 

264 


AT  THE  STATION  265 

I  happily  remembered  the  recipe  for  "striking  terror 
and  inspiring  respect"  into  a  Turk,  recommended  by 
Dhemetri,  Kinglake's  illustrious  factotum,  and  I  re- 
solved to  try  it.  So,  assuming  a  mien  of  supreme 
ferocity,  I  thundered  out  in  what  I  conceived  to  be 
a  respect-inspiring  accent : — 

"  O  thou  fool,  and  the  descendant  of  many  fools, 
hold  thy  tongue,  and  assist  me  to  dismount." 

The  experiment  succeeded  to  perfection.  The  gen- 
darme, stunned  by  this  thunderclap,  came  up,  and  held 
my  stirrup  humbly,  remarking : — 

"  Do  not  be  wroth,  effendim  ;  I  knew  not  you  were 
such  a  great  man." 

I  followed  up  my  advantage  by  tossing  a  two- 
piastre  piece  to  him.  Whereupon  he  professed  to  be 
my  bondman  for  life,  tethered  my  mule,  and  otherwise 
showed  his  sense  of  my  greatness. 

Thus,' having  "smitten  the  proud  and  spared  the 
prostrate,"  I  effected  my  entry  into  the  station  with 
something  of  the  feelings  of  a  Roman  Consul  fresh 
from  a  victorious  campaign  against  the  barbarians. 
On  this,  as  on  many  other  occasions,  I  found  that 
rudeness  is  the  best  and,  on  the  whole,  cheapest  policy 
in  Turkey.  Civility  is  mistaken  for  weakness,  and  woe 
to  the  weak  in  a  despotic  country ! 

"  Pleasant  words  are  as  an  honeycomb,  sweet  to  the 
soul,  and  health  to  the  bones,"  quoth  the  sage  ;  but 
Solomon  obviously  had  little  experience  of  Turkey. 
Besides,  it  is  not  quite  clear  to  whose  bones  he  refers. 
Far  wiser  is  the  apophthegm  in  which  he  says  :  "The 
north  wind  driveth  away  rain  ;  so  doth  an  angry 
countenance  a  backbiting  tongue." 

Meanwhile,  the  affray  had  brought  the  station- 
master  to  the   door.      I  presented  to   him  a  note  of 


266  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

introduction,  which  I  had  obtained  in  case  I  should 
be  obliged  to  wait  for  any  length  of  time  at  the 
station,  as  indeed  it  turned  out  to  be  the  case.  There 
was  no  train  until  5  p.m.  This  was  an  unpleasant 
surprise,  for  my  host  at  Provista  had  assured  me  that 
there  was  one  at  noon.  His  object  had  certainly 
not  been  to  deceive  me.  But  the  inhabitants  of  these 
regions  will  never  own  that  they  are  unable  to  give  you 
exact  information.  Actuated  by  a  most  laudable 
desire  to  please,  they  instinctively  answer  in  the 
way  which  they  think  will  be  the  most  agreeable  to 
you.  In  like  manner,  when  the  traveller  asks  of  his 
muleteer,  "Are  we  very  far  from  our  destination?" 
the  latter  invariably  replies,  "  Oh  no.  It  is  just  over 
yon  hill."  "  Yon  hill,"  as  often  as  not,  turns  out  to 
be  the  first  link  of  a  long  chain  of  "yon  hills."  As 
a  result  of  this  amiable  trait  of  character,  here  was 
I  condemned  to  waste  the  whole  day  in  the  wilder- 
ness, with  the  nearest  village  miles  away  on  the  slopes 
of  a  distant  mountain. 

"What  refreshments  may  I  have  the  pleasure  of 
offering  you,  sir  ? "  said  the  station-master,  pompously, 
as  soon  as  we  were  seated  in  his  ofiice. 

"  What  refreshments  may  you   happen  to  have  in 
this  place  1 "  answered  I,  smiling. 

"  There  is  arrack,  sir,  and  there  is  cognac,"  he 
rejoined  in  the  tone  of  a  man  divulging  the  names 
of  deadly  poisons.  "  I  presume  that  you  have  not 
had  your  luncheon  yet?" 

"  No,"  I  answered.  "  I  left  Provista  before  sunrise. 
A  thimbleful  of  coffee  and  a  slice  of  bread  was  my 
breakfast,  and,  I  do  not  wish  to  be  emphatic,  but  I  am 
famishing." 

"Indeed?"  said  he,  gravely. 


AT  THE  STATION  267 

"  Verily.  But  I  will  have  a  glass  of  cognac  with 
pleasure." 

The  cognac  was  produced  from  a  mysterious  cup- 
board, and  I  found  it  excellent,  though  by  no  means 
equivalent  to  a  full  meal.     So  I  asked  : — 

"Is  there  no  place  within  measurable  distance 
where  I  could  get  something  to  eat?  Bread  and 
cheese,  or  anything  will  do." 

"  There  is  no  place  within  measurable  distance, 
sir.  None  but  the  railroads  are  measured  in  Turkey. 
There  is,  however,  a  kind  of  coffee-shop  within  what 
may  correctly  be  described  as  reasonable  distance," 
answered  the  ponderous  pedant,  pointing  through 
the  office-door  to  a  miserable  hovel.  "  But  you  can 
get  nothing  there  except  bad  coffee  and  stale  Turkish 
delight,  commonly  called  loukoum." 

A  row  of  big  baskets  full  of  rosy  grapes  stood 
ranged  outside  the  door,  and  to  those  I  cast  a  longing 
glance.  My  host  evidently  read  my  meaning,  for  he 
hastened  to  explain  in  alarm  : — 

"Those  grapes,  which  you  see,  have  just  arrived; 
but  they  are  not  mine  ;"   and  he  changed  the  subject. 

About  an  hour  later  he  doffed  his  uniform,  donned 
an  ordinary  jacket,  and  then,  bowing  to  me,  said  : — 

"  Will  you  be  so  very  good  as  to  follow  me  upstairs, 
sir?     I  am  going  to  lunch." 

I  rose  and  followed  him  in  the  firm  belief  that 
I  was  going  to  lunch  too,  and  my  stomach  was  already 
beating  tuneful  marches  to  the  table. 

He  ushered  me  into  a  drawing-room  and  motioned 
me  to  a  satin  couch,  more  luxurious  than  comfortable. 
Then  in  walked  a  mournful  procession,  consisting  of 
an  aged  lady  in  black,  with  a  low  fez,  encircled  in  a 
wreath  of  false  hair  on  her  head,  and  of  a  younger 


2  68  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

lady,  likewise  in  black ;  a  pale  though  not  unpretty 
little  woman,  with  big  eyes  wearing  the  look  of  a 
hunted  deer.  These  ladies  were  introduced  to  me  as 
the  station-master's  mother  and  wife  respectively. 
After  a  few  minutes'  mutual  embarrassment  the  sor- 
rowful trio  got  up,  and  the  gentleman  said  : — 

"  I  trust  you  will  excuse  us,  sir.  We  are  now  going 
to  have  our  luncheon.  Allow  me  to  offer  you  a  book 
and  some  cigarettes.  I  venture  to  hope  you  will  like 
them." 

With  this  the  procession  marched  in  single  file  out 
of  the  room,  leaving  me  with  a  French  novel  in  one 
hand  and  a  cigarette  in  the  other,  while,  Heaven  knows, 
a  piece  of  bread  and  cheese  would  have  been  infinitely 
more  to  the  purpose.  My  stomach  now  began  to 
beat  funeral  marches  to  the  grave  ;  but  I  tried  to 
silence  it. 

I  opened  the  book.  It  was  Le  Collier  de  la  Heine, 
by  x\lexandre  Dumas,  pere — an  excellent  work  in  its 
way,  yet  ever  since  that  day  associated  in  my  mind  with 
everything  that  is  dull,  uninteresting,  and  painful.  I 
glanced  at  the  first  page  ;  but  I  found  it  physically 
impossible  to  fix  my  eyes  upon  it.  The  clatter  of 
plates,  knives,  and  forks,  and  the  seductive  smell  of 
roast  meat  were  borne  in  through  the  keyhole,  and 
distracted  me  with  thoughts  of  the  might-have-been. 

I  tried  the  cigarette,  but  found  it  sadly  inadequate 
as  a  substitute  for  a  meal.  I  wondered  whether  the 
station-master  laboured  under  the  unfortunate  delusion 
that  men  of  letters  live  literally  on  books,  requiring 
no  other  nutriment,  or  whether  he  seriously  regarded 
tobacco  as  "the  hungry  man's  food,"  or,  lastly,  whether 
I  was  the  victim  of  a  practical  joke. 

As  I  sat  there  on  my  satin  sofa,  starving  and  puzz- 


AT  THE  STATION  269 

ling,  and,  I  am  afraid,  inwardly  relegating  station- 
masters  and  pompous  fools  to  the  regions  of  perpetual 
heat,  my  host  returned,  and,  with  a  radiant  smile  on 
his  face,  requested  me  to  follow  him  down  to  the  office 
again. 

I  still  cherished  a  faint  hope  that  he  meant  to  give 
me  something  to  eat  by  myself — "perhaps,"  I  thought, 
"  their  luncheon  accommodation  was  not  enough  to 
meet  the  wants  of  an  unexpected  guest " — and  I  waited 
patiently.  But  when  another  half- hour  dragged 
wearily  on  and  revealed  not  the  least  symptom  of 
hospitality  on  the  station-master's  part,  I  began  to 
think  seriously  of  my  future. 

I  left  the  inhospitable  roof  and  strolled  out,  seek- 
ing what  I  might  devour.  Fortunately,  or  providen- 
tially, I  had  not  gone  far  when  a  labourer  appeared 
before  me,  with  a  magnificent  bunch  of  black  grapes 
in  one  hand  and  a  piece  of  bread  in  the  other. 

"Where  did  you  find  these  things?"  I  asked 
eagerly,  addressing  him  in  Greek. 

"I  did  not  find  them.  I  bought  them,"  he  an- 
swered indignantly,  in  Italian. 

"Is  it  possible  for  me  also  to  buy  such  things  in 
this  locality  ? "  I  pursued,  in  his  own  language, 

"  No,  not  in  this  locality,  signor,"  he  said,  mollified 
and  most  absurdly  amused.  "But  hold,"  he  added, 
with  a  beautiful  impulsiveness,  which  endeared  the 
Italian  nation  to  me  at  once  and  for  ever.  "You 
are  quite  welcome  to  these  grapes,  and  I  can  get  you 
some  white  bread,  too." 

Had  heaven  opened  its  gates  to  me  at  that  moment, 
I  should  probably  have  felt  less  elated.  But  I  declined 
his  bunch.  He  assured  me,  however,  that  there  was 
plenty  more  where  that  came  from,  and  led  the  way  to 


270  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

his  lodgings.  He  was  a  platelayer  employed  on  the 
line.  I  followed,  lured  by  the  magic  of  his  words.  I 
had  lived  for  many  weeks  past  on  black,  often  dry  and 
mouldy  bread,  such  as  nothing  but  famine  could  make 
palatable,  and  the  sound  of  pane  bianco  had  an  incon- 
ceivable charm  for  my  ears. 

Arrived  at  the  cottage,  the  Italian  gave  an  order  to 
his  Bulgarian  landlady  to  provide  me  with  cheese  and 
as  many  grapes  as  I  could  eat,  while  he  extracted  from 
a  saddle-bag  a  lovely  loaf  of  milk-white  bread.  He 
pressed  me  to  accept  the  whole  loaf,  and  it  was  with 
the  utmost  difficulty  that  I  prevailed  upon  him  not  to 
give  me  more  than  a  quarter  of  it.  With  that  bread 
and  cheese,  and  some  three  pounds  of  grapes,  I  made 
a  tolerable  lunch,  which  reconciled  me  to  my  kind 
— station-masters,  of  course,  excepted. 

Thus  it  befell  that  for  the  second  time  during  my 
tour  I  was  beholden  to  an  Italian's  humanity  for  a 
meal. 

As  I  walked  back  to  the  station,  I  met  my  Italian 
friend  again,  and  he  informed  me  that,  meanwhile,  the 
monoslippered  gendarme,  and  several  others,  had  been 
inquiring  about  me,  and  that  he  had  replied  that  he 
knew  nothing,  except  that  I  was  a  signor  who  under- 
stood Italian,  and  who  wanted  to  eat.  Nor  did  he 
evince  any  desire  to  know  more. 

The  Italian  labourer's  off-hand  generosity  contrasted 
so  strangely  with  the  Greek  gentleman's  elaborate 
meanness,  that  for  a  long  time  I  was  at  a  loss  how 
to  account  for  the  latter's  conduct.  The  humourist 
hypothesis  had  to  be  abandoned.  The  only  remaining 
alternative  was  lunacy.  If  so,  the  station-master  was 
a  maniac  of  a  peculiarly  gruesome  type  ;  there  was 
murder,  as  well  as  method,  in  his  madness. 


AT  THE  STATION  271 

It  was  only  some  days  after,  when  I  narrated  my 
experience  to  a  circle  of  acquaintances  at  Serres,  that 
I  obtained  a  possible  clue  to  his  extraordinary  be- 
haviour. I  mentioned  no  names ;  but  the  people  to 
whom  I  related  the  anecdote  guessed  at  once  who  the 
hero  was,  and  explained  that  Mr.  Athinellis  was  a 
character  notorious  far  and  wide  for  his  connubial 
sensitiveness. 

"But  why  did  the  idiot  introduce  me  to  his  wife, 
if  he  was  silly  enough  to  fear  the  fascination  of  a 
casual  stranger,  who  in  all  probability  will  never  see 
him  or  her  again  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  don't  you  see  ?  so  long  as  you  were  starving 
you  could  have  no  thoughts  to  devote  to  the  lady. 
The  danger  might  arise  when  your  mind  was  less  pre- 
occupied," answered  one  of  them,  laughing. 

They  also  informed  me  that  it  was  a  favourite  pas- 
time with  the  gay  sparks  of  the  town  to  take  a  return 
ticket  to  Anghista  just  for  the  pleasure  of  making  the 
station-master  savage,  by  pretending  to  smile  up  at 
the  windows — which  were  always  shut  by  order,  while 
the  train  was  in,  and  the  wretched  lady  knew  that  it 
was  as  much  as  her  life  was  worth  to  be  seen  looking 
out.  Poor  little  woman  !  no  wonder  her  eyes  wore 
the  expression  of  a  hunted  deer. 


CHAPTER    XXXII 

LETTER-WRITING   AND   ITS   PERILS 

On  my  return  to  Serres  I  was  informed  that  during 
my  absence  some  letters  had  arrived  and  been  for- 
warded by  a  Jceradji  to  Nigrita,  which  they  must 
have  reached  after  my  departure.  Next  morning  I 
repaired  to  the  khan,  at  which  the  Jceradji  in  ques- 
tion usually  stopped,  but  he  was  not  there.  On  the 
following  day  I  found  him  and  inquired  after  my 
letters. 

"  They  are  quite  safe  in  my  house  at  Nigrita,"  he 
said. 

"  Why  did  you  not  bring  them  back  here  ? " 
"  How  was  I  to  know  that  you  were  here  ? " 
"  Well,  now  that  you  do  know,  please  bring  them 
with  you  to-morrow." 

He  promised  "by  the  Holy  Virgin  and  the  Holy 
Cross"  to  do  so.  But  when  on  the  morrow  I  went 
to  hunt  him  up,  he  serenely  informed  me  that  he  had 
forgotten.  I  reminded  him  of  his  vows ;  but  he  did 
not  seem  to  think  that  any  of  the  powers  invoked 
could  really  make  things  uncomfortable  for  him.  In 
any  case,  he  changed  his  vocabulary  and  now  swore 
"  by  the  bread  we  eat "  that  he  would  no  longer 
forget.  This  happened  again  and  again.  It  was  not 
until  after  six  daily  interviews,  enlivened  by  original 
asseverations  on  his  part  and  by  alternate  threats  and 
promises  on  mine,  that  I  succeeded  in  getting  posses- 


LETTER- WRITING  AND  ITS  PERILS         273 

sion  of  my  correspondence.  The  incident  cost  me  a 
week's  anxiety,  to  say  nothing  of  the  waste  of  vahiable 
time  and  temper.  But  it  served  to  bring  home  to  me 
the  peculiarities  of  the  Turkish  postal  system  in  a  way 
which,  though  disagreeable,  was  eminently  practical 
and  instructive. 

With  the  exception  of  the  few  places  connected 
by  rail,  all  postal  communication  with  the  interior  is 
carried  on  by  government  couriers  under  the  escort  of 
mounted  gendarmes.  This  service,  though  leaving 
much  to  be  desired  in  regard  to  speed,  is  on  the 
whole  pretty  safe  for  the  transmission  of  official  de- 
spatches and  other  objects  of  little  value.  But  there 
its  usefulness  ends ;  for  the  dangers  threatening  a 
packet  are  in  direct  ratio  to  the  value  of  its  contents. 

The  Mohammedans  themselves  very  rarely  indulge 
in  correspondence.  Neither  their  intellectual  nor 
their  commercial  activity  is  such  as  to  call  for  a 
frequent  interchange  of  written  messages.  From  their 
point  of  view  a  post-office  is  a  mysterious  and  mis- 
chievous innovation,  due  to  the  pernicious  influence 
of  the  Franks — a  western  fashion  only  less  sinful 
than,  say,  the  use  of  a  knife  and  fork  in  eating,  or 
the  wearing  of  a  European  head-dress.  Their  business 
relations,  being  of  the  most  rudimentary  character, 
are  generally  conducted  by  word  of  mouth. 

It  is  far  otherwise  with  the  Christians.  The  whole 
commerce  of  the  interior  is  in  their  hands,  and,  being: 
much  better  educated,  they  feel  more  keenly  the  need 
for  regular  communication  of  news.  The  intellectual 
superiority  of  the  Christian  over  the  Mohammedan  is 
graphically  shown  by  the  large  number  of  kiatibs  and 
seal-engravers  of  the  Prophet's  persuasion,  and  by  the 
total  absence  of  any  professional  letter-writers  among 

s 


274  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

the  Christians.  Yet  they  also  fight  shy  of  the  post- 
ofHce ;  but  for  a  widely  dijfferent  reason.  They  are 
simply  afraid  to  entrust  their  letters  to  the  official 
messengers.  Nor  is  their  fear  fanciful.  Every  one 
knows  that  the  post-office  is  used  by  the  authorities 
as  a  trap  for  the  capture  of  the  disaffected  and  the 
spoliation  of  the  wealthy.  No  letter  addressed  from 
one  Christian  to  another  can  be  considered  safe  in 
the  hands  of  a  Turkish  official.  In  May  1901,  during 
the  post-office  "  incident,"  many  employes  of  the 
Ottoman  post-office  at  Salonica  were  dismissed  be- 
cause, contrary  to  orders,  they  had  allowed  letters 
to  pass  unopened. 

This  was  a  rare  instance  of  neglect  of  duty.  As 
a  rule  the  officials  are  very  conscientious  in  the  ex- 
amination of  private  communications — especially  if 
the  bulk  of  the  missive  suggests  more  than  an  ordi- 
nary note.  There  is  nothing  to  prevent  a  zealous 
government  servant  from  bringing  an  imaginary  charge 
against  the  corresponding  parties,  if  there  is  in  their 
correspondence  any  word  capable  of  being  twisted 
into  an  expression  of  discontent  with  the  existing 
disorder  of  things,  or  even  into  disapproval,  be  it 
ever  so  mild,  of  the  conduct  of  some  local  official 
robber.  The  sender  or  the  recipient  of  a  suspicious 
letter  must  deem  himself  well  treated,  if,  after  several 
months'  imprisonment,  he  is  allowed  to  purchase 
acquittal. 

A  whole  Bulgarian  family  of  Gumendja  was  some 
years  ago  utterly  ruined  through  a  rigmarole  addressed 
by  a  lad  of  fifteen,  who  was  at  school  in  Bulgaria,  to 
his  father  at  home.  The  boy  at  a  moment  of  youthful 
indiscretion  wrote  that  he  was  going  to  invade  Mace- 
donia at  the  head  of  a  great  army,  in  order  to  deliver 


LETTER- WRITING  AND  ITS  PERILS         275 

the  Christians  from  thraldom.  As  the  parent  hap- 
pened to  be  a  rich  man,  the  authorities  pretended  to 
take  the  matter  seriously,  and,  after  having  squeezed 
every  farthing  out  of  him,  they  ended  by  banishing 
him  to  Asia. 

In  view  of  the  perils  attending  correspondence 
the  Christians  are  forced  to  employ  private  couriers 
of  their  own  creed  and  nationality,  and  the  muleteers 
frequently,  though  secretly,  discharge  the  functions  of 
postmen,  with  what  success  has  been  shown  already. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

DRAMA 

The  Commissary  of  Police,  who  played  Cerberus  at 
the  Serres  railway  station,  had  the  pleasure  of  in- 
specting my  passport  for  the  fourth  time,  and  for 
the  fourth  time  that  intelligent  and  patient  functionary 
entered  into  his  register  the  details  of  my  personal 
appearance — fair  hair,  blue  eyes,  gigantic  stature,  and 
all,  without  a  word  of  comment.  As  he  was  not 
physically  blind,  the  only  explanation  of  his  tolerance 
must  be  this.  An  Englishman,  he  probably  reasoned, 
is  tall,  fair-haired,  and  blue-eyed.  This  gentleman  is 
an  Englishman.  Ergo,  he  must  be  tall,  fair-haired, 
and  blue-eyed.  That  I  happened  to  be  the  very 
opposite  to  all  this  was  an  accident  which  did  not 
aifect  the  Turkish  official's  syllogism. 

The  carriage  into  which  I  entered  was  full  of  a 
Greek  station-master's  wife  and  her  husband  going 
away  for  a  holiday.  She  was  a  prematurely  decayed 
but  abundantly  powdered  lady  of  apoplectic  tendencies. 
He  was  a  brittle  little  gentleman  in  a  rusty  black 
redingote,  and  in  evident  awe  of  his  larger  half.  Any 
room  that  might  be  left  was  taken  up  by  their  luggage. 
Baskets  crammed  with  miscellaneous  odds  and  ends, 
wine  bottles,  arrack  bottles,  and  flower  -  pots  were 
ranged  between,  upon,  and  under  the  seats.  Pome- 
granates,    reticules,    salted     fish,    umbrellas,     cakes, 

children's    hats,    cheeses,    walking-sticks,    buns,    and 

276 


DRAMA  277 

nightcaps  rolled  in  the  racks  overhead,  while  the 
floor  underfoot  was  carpeted  with  cigarette-ends, 
spent  matches,  and  pomegranate  rinds.  In  this 
festive  atmosphere  I  suffocated  two  and  a  half  hours, 
which  terminated  at  Drama  station. 

There  are  no  important  towns  along  the  road  ; 
Sarmousakli,  Zichna,  Zeliachova,  and  Alistrati  ex- 
haust the  list.  They  all  lie  to  the  north  of  the  line, 
and  can  hardly  be  designated  as  towns.  They  are 
great  straggling  villages  with  a  mixed  population. 
The  inhabitants  of  Zeliachova,  Christians  though  they 
be,  use  the  Turkish  language,  and  are  only  just  be- 
ginning to  learn  or  re-learn  Greek.  There  are  several 
other  instances  of  Christians  having  adopted  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Mohammedan  conquerors,  partly  as 
the  natural  effect  of  intercourse  and  partly  as  a  means 
of  self-preservation.  An  example  of  the  reverse  is 
afforded  by  Lialiova,  a  township  farther  north,  near 
Nevrokop.  The  inhabitants  of  that  place  are  Moham- 
medan by  religion,  and  yet  until  recently  they  em- 
ployed the  Greek  language  even  in  the  formula  with 
which  the  muezzin  calls  the  faithful  to  prayer 
from  the  minaret  and  which  generally  is  in  sacred 
Arabic. 

The  populations  of  the  other  villages  mentioned, 
though  speaking  mostly  Bulgarian,  as  a  rule  side  with 
the  Greeks.  Alistrati  especially  is  distinguished  for 
its  staunch  adherence  to  the  Greek  cause  and  for  its 
excellent  Greek  primary  schools.  These  four  villages, 
in  fact,  form  the  boundary  line  between  the  debatable 
territoiy  to  the  north  and  the  purely  Hellenic  district 
which  extends  to  the  shores  of  the  ^^gean,  and  which, 
though  it  includes  several  Mohammedan  settlements, 
does  not  contain  a  single  Slav  community.     This  fact 


278  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

of  elementary  geography  comes  as  a  surprise  to  the 
traveller.  The  apostles  of  the  Bulgarian  propaganda 
have  been  so  energetic  that  they  have  succeeded  in 
colouring  the  map  in  accordance  with  their  wishes, 
and  even  some  English  ethnographical  works  make 
the  mistake  of  yielding  part  of  this  district  to  the 
Slavs.  The  inhabitants  of  the  villages  near  the 
mouth  of  the  Struma  told  me  how  a  short  time  ago 
Russian  naval  officers,  engaged  in  surveying  that 
part  of  the  coast,  expressed  their  astonishment  at 
hearing  Greek  spoken  in  a  district  which  the  Pan- 
slavist  pamphleteers  had  taught  them  to  regard  as 
Bulgarian.  But  geography  is  not  the  only  subject 
that  is  treated  as  a  political  question  in  this  curious 
corner  of  Europe.  In  their  proclamations  the  leaders 
of  the  Slavo-Macedonian  Committee  appeal  to  Alex- 
ander the  Great  as  a  national  hero.  After  this,  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  the  statement  that  in  their 
school  text-books  Aristotle  also  is  described  as  a  great 
Bulgarian  philosopher. 

Drama  is  the  place  where  travellers  to  Cavalla 
have  to  spend  the  night,  and  the  town  consequently 
boasts  several  hotels.  Representatives  of  two  of  these 
establishments  were  at  the  station  on  the  look-out  for 
prey,  and  as  soon  as  I  showed  myself  on  the  platform, 
they  both  pounced  upon  me.  Their  eagerness  to  serve 
me  would  have  been  flattering  were  it  not  somewhat 
disconcerting. 

"  Come  with  me,  sir  !  " 

"  No,  come  with  me  !  !  " 

"  My  hotel  is  the  best  in  the  town,  sir  !  ! !  " 

"  Mine  is  better  !  !  !  !  " 

These  phrases,  mingled  with  more  or  less  pertinent 
allusions   to  "  health,  view,  table-d'h6te,  beds,    bugs. 


DRAMA  279 

&c.,"  were  shouted  across  my  face,  and  the  discussion 
was  threatening  to  end  in  blows,  when  a  third  hotel 
representative  appeared  on  the  scene,  and,  like  a 
Homeric  god,  gave  an  unexpected  turn  to  the  fray. 
He  calmly  walked  between  the  combatants  and  took 
summary  possession  of  my  person,  with  this  astounding 
declaration  : 

"  The  gentleman  is  my  guest.  I  have  been  expect- 
ing him." 

The  wonder  was  that  the  others  believed  him.  At 
any  rate,  they  acted  as  if  they  did  :  he  was  at  least 
eight  inches  taller  than  the  tallest  of  the  two,  and 
broad  in  proportion. 

Overcome  by  his  masterful  style,  and  knowing 
nothing  about  the  comparative  merits  of  the  rival 
aspirants  to  the  honour  of  swindling  me,  I  tamely 
submitted  to  be  swindled  by  him,  and  followed  him  to 
a  cab.  When  a  few  minutes  later  I  dismounted  at 
his  establishment,  I  found  that  I  might  have  done 
worse.  The  hotel  of  Kyr  Photis,  as  this  master 
liar  called  himself,  was  situated  in  a  quiet  street. 
There  was  a  trim  little  garden  in  front,  and  the 
path  leading  up  to  the  main  entrance  was  prettily 
shaded  with  wistaria.  An  appetising  dinner  recon- 
ciled me  still  further  to  my  fate,  and  made  me  con- 
done Kyr  Photis's  transcendent  contempt  for  matters 
of  fact. 

In  the  evening  I  met  the  elite  of  Drama  male 
society,  half-a-dozen  employes  of  the  Regie,  who 
used  Kyr  Photis's  establishment  as  a  club.  They 
courteously  invited  me  to  join  them  in  a  game  of 
bridge.  This  and  poker,  I  found,  were  the  favourite 
games,  whist  being  considered  too  old-fashioned  for 
the  interior  of  Macedonia.     In  an  astonishingly  short 


2  8o  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

space  of  time  I  found  myself  one  of  a  harmonious 
set,  including  as  many  nationalities  as  there  were 
individuals  :  a  perfect  Concert  of  Europe,  as  a  young 
Frenchman  in  blue  spectacles,  who  sat  next  to  me, 
remarked. 

All  these  gentlemen,  though  officials  of  the  Eegie, 
or  perhaps  because  of  that,  smoked  contraband  tobacco, 
which  is  cheaper  and  better  than  the  monopoly  stuff, 
and  is  affected  by  all  those  who  know  a  good  smoke 
and  have  the  means  of  procuring  it.  This  is  not  diffi- 
cult at  Drama.  For  Drama  is  the  centre  of  one  of  the 
great  tobacco-growing  districts  in  Turkey,  and  owes 
its  importance  to  the  tobacco  plantations  which  sur- 
round it. 

The  town  is  situated  at  the  foot  of  a  lofty  mountain 
ridge  (Boz  Dag),  and  is  washed  by  a  rapid  stream,  a 
tributary  of  the  Anghista  (anciently  Angitas),  which, 
springing  from  these  mountains,  flows  westward,  and 
gradually  develops  into  a  respectable  middle  -  class 
river,  ending  in  Lake  Tachino.  In  fact,  this  is  the 
river  so  lucidly  described  to  me  on  a  former  occasion 
as  coming  "  from  over  there." 

However,  the  apparent  healthiness  of  the  position 
of  the  town  is  defeated  by  the  many  marshes  which 
fringe  its  outskirts.  These  conditions  were  neatly  and 
concisely  summed  up  by  the  French  member,  who,  to 
my  questions  regarding  the  chief  products  of  the  place, 
readily  replied : — 

"Frogs  and  fevers,  monsieur." 

With  the  exception  of  these  few  Europeans  and  a 
colony  of  some  one  hundred  and  thirty  Greek  families, 
the  rest  of  the  population  is  intensely  Mohammedan, 
so  much  so  that  on  Tuesdays,  when  the  lovely  hanoums 
go  out  for  a  walk,  no  infidel  is  allowed  to  visit  the 


DRAMA  281 

caf^s  or  frequent  the  public  promenades,  lest  his  un- 
clean breath  should  pollute  the  air,  which  on  that  day 
is  reserved  for  the  exclusive  use  of  the  fair  followers  of 
the  Prophet. 

The  fanaticism  and  ferocity  of  the  Turks  of  Drama 
and  the  neighbourhood  are  proverbial,  and  contrast 
with  the  attitude  of  the  Mohammedans  near  Nigrita, 
who,  always  excepting  the  Mooadjirs,  live  at  peace 
with  the  Christians.  In  other  districts  again,  notably 
that  of  Gremia,  near  Galatista  in  the  Chalcidic  Penin- 
sula, the  Mohammedans  carry  their  amiability  to  a  still 
higher  pitch.  They  seem  to  act  on  a  literal  interpre- 
tation of  the  commandment,  "Love  thy  neighbour" — • 
an  obligation  which,  of  course,  does  not  apply  to 
outsiders.  All  strangers  in  the  eyes  of  these  gentry 
are  fair  and  legitimate  game.  Yet,  though  enjoying 
a  hard  -  earned  reputation  for  cruelty,  they  never 
molest  their  Christian  neighbours.  On  the  con- 
trary, if  other  Mohammedans  attack  them,  they  make 
common  cause  with  them.  This  alliance  is  based 
on  the  principle  of  "birds  of  a  feather";  for  the 
Christians  also  spare  none  except  their  next  -  door 
neighbours. 

The  two  communities  exchange  friendly  visits  on 
their  respective  festivals,  such  as  Easter  and  Bairam, 
do  each  other's  tasks  on  holy  days,  and  otherwise  live 
together  as  behoves  the  members  of  an  unholy  brother- 
hood. Nothing  illustrates  this  state  of  equality  and 
mutual  loyalty  better  than  the  fact  that  Christian 
shepherdesses  may  be  seen  fearlessly  tending  their 
flocks  in  the  close  vicinity  of  young  Mohammedan 
shepherds  armed  to  the  teeth.  And  yet,  I  have  been 
assured  by  an  old  Christian  farmer  of  the  district, 
within  the  memory  of  man  there  has  not  been  a  single 


282  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

case  of  an  insult  offered  to  a  Christian  woman  by  a 
Mohammedan. 

These  facts  should  be  borne  in  mind  by  those 
who  indulge  in  comprehensive  denunciation  of  Moham- 
medan fanaticism. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

IN  THE  FOOTSTEPS  OF  ST  PAUL 

The  road  from  Drama  to  Cavalla  is  described  by  hotel- 
keepers  as  carriageable,  a  somewhat  idealistic  descrip- 
tion ;  but,  after  due  allowance  for  racial  and  professional 
optimism  is  made,  it  is  found  to  be  not  utterly  untrue 
— in  the  summer.  In  winter  it  is  otherwise.  As 
winter  had  not  yet  commenced,  however,  I  took  Kyr 
Photis's  statement  for  what  it  was  worth — namely,  at 
a  discount  of  seventy-five  per  cent.,  and  commissioned 
him  to  engage  a  carriage  for  me.  He  brought  back 
the  intelligence  that  no  private  carriage  was  to  be  had, 
but  that  he  had  managed  to  secure  a  place  in  a 
"  beautiful "  vehicle  which  would  convey  only  one  other 
passenger. 

Next  morning  I  betook  myself  to  the  khcm,  whence 
the  beautiful  vehicle  was  to  start,  and  found  that,  not- 
withstanding the  coachman's  announcement  of  an  early 
departure,  things  were  still  in  a  preliminary  stage.  The 
men  were  actually  shoeing  the  horses,  one  of  which  gave 
them  infinite  trouble.  It  was  tethered  to  a  beam,  and 
its  lower  lip  was  twisted  tightly  between  two  short 
sticks  bound  together  with  whipcord  at  the  ends.  One 
man  held  up  its  foot  in  a  noose,  while  another  strove 
to  fix  the  shoe.  But  the  vicious  animal  would  not 
accept  these  attentions,  and  expressed  its  disapproval 
in  very  vigorous   style.     Now  and  again  it  made   a 

frantic  efi'ort  to  break  loose  and  scattered  its  enemies. 

283 


2  84  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

The  man  with  the  noose  had  to  drop  the  foot  and  run 
round  the  beam  for  dear  life. 

While  this  feud  between  the  shoers  and  their  recalci- 
trant customer  was  raging,  I  improved  the  occasion 
by  entering  into  conversation  with  the  khandji,  a  cor- 
pulent and  responsible-looking  Greek  who  sat  upon  a 
stool,  with  the  gaping  depths  of  a  dark  stable  for  a 
background.  I  accepted  a  place  near  him,  and  offered 
him  a  cigarette,  which  he  declined. 

"  I  take  snuff,  sir,"  he  said,  tapping  the  little 
black  box  with  his  finger.  Having  helped  himself 
to  a  pinch  he  passed  the  box  to  me,  and  forthwith 
the  yard  of  the  inn  resounded  with  our  combined 
sternutations. 

"  I  am  an  old-fashioned  man,  sir,"  he  proceeded, 
as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  speak  and  to  hear.  "  I  do 
not  think  any  good  can  come  of  these  new  fashions — 
cigarettes,  railways,  and  the  rest." 

I  failed  to  grasp  the  connection ;  but,  nevertheless, 
tried  to  look  responsive,  and  the  khandji  went  on 
bewailing  the  altered  aspect  of  the  universe  bitterly. 
He  compared  the  present  with  the  days  of  yore,  when 
there  were  no  railways  or  cigarettes,  but  decent  people 
took  snuff,  and  the  inns  swarmed  with  travellers. 

"  Ah,  those  were  heavenly  times  both  for  inn- 
keepers and  for  muleteers,  sir" — a  sigh  and  a  remini- 
scent sneeze.  "  But  since  this  accursed  railroad  was 
built  we  are  going  to  the  dogs  as  fast  as  we  can  " — a 
second  reminiscence  of  the  snuff  age. 

"Those  who  own  these  railways  are  monsters, 
sir.  They  are  ogres,  who  feed  and  fatten  on  the  flesh 
of  poor  innkeepers  and  muleteers.  May  the  devil  take 
them  ! "  concluded  the  khandji^  with  a  third  sneeze 
and  a  pious  look  heavenward. 


IN  THE  FOOTSTEPS  OF  ST.  PAUL  285 

At  that  moment  the  Turkish  driver  announced  that 
he  was  starting. 

"  Have  another  pinch  before  you  start,"  said  the 
khandji,  waddling  after  me  up  to  the  coach. 

I  am  afraid  I  shocked  his  conservative  principles 
by  lighting  a  cigarette  instead,  for  he  muttered  mourn- 
fully :— 

"  The  old  with  the  old,  and  the  new  with  the 
new." 

On  stepping  into  the  vehicle  I  was  surprised  to 
find  two  other  passengers  in  it.  Ere  I  had  time  to 
comment  on  this  breach  of  contract,  a  fourth  passenger 
turned  up.  The  surprise  was  universal.  For  a  minute 
or  two  we  glanced  at  each  other  in  mutual  conster- 
nation. But,  when  on  comparing  notes  we  discovered 
that  we  all  and  sundry  had  been  deceived  by  the 
coachman,  we  united  our  forces  in  one  joint  growl 
of  wrath  against  the  common  enemy.  That  arch- 
deceiver,  unabashed,  said  that  those  who  objected 
to  his  methods  might  stay  behind,  adding,  in  the 
quiet  tone  of  one  who  knows  the  strength  of  his 
position,  that  there  was  not  another  carriage  in  the 
khan. 

This  statement  was  corroborated  by  the  khandji, 
who  tried  to  smooth  our  ruffled  tempers  with  a  friendly 
remark  to  the  effect  that  "  the  more  the  merrier  and 
the  safer,"  accompanied  by  a  wink,  meant  to  suggest 
brigands  and  other  possibilities  of  Turkish  travel.  So 
we  would  fain  make  a  virtue  of  necessity  and  bow 
to  the  decrees  of  Fate. 

"  Allah's  will  be  done  !  "  one  of  my  fellow-victims, 
a  long-bearded  Turk,  observed  resignedly. 

As  we  echoed  the  sentiment  the  driver  slammed 
the  door  to,  jumped  to  his  box,  and  in  another  second 


286  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

we  were  rattling  out  of  the  cobble-paved  courtyard 
amidst  the  crack  of  whip,  the  clatter  of  hoofs,  the 
jingle  of  harness,  and  the  tinkle  of  bells. 

In  a  few  minutes  we  were  in  the  open  country. 
Droves  of  bujQTaloes,  sheep,  and  goats  were  grazing 
on  the  stubble  in  some  corn-fields  on  the  right,  tended 
by  long-cloaked  and  kilted  Wallachian  shepherds,  who, 
according  to  their  wont,  had  begun  to  seek  the  plains 
at  the  approach  of  winter.  On  our  left  stretched 
endless  tobacco  plantations.  The  sight  of  the  delicate 
little  plants,  with  their  dark-green  foliage  and  pink 
trumpet-shaped  blossoms,  was  calculated  to  fill  the 
heart  of  the  devotee  of  the  weed  with  pleasant 
thoughts.  The  Turk,  who  had  hitherto  sat,  like  the 
Sphinx, 

"  Staring  right  on  with  calm,  eternal  eyes," 

was  now  stirred  to  utterance  by  the  view  of  the  herb 
he  loved  so  dearly. 

"  We  have  much  to  thank  Allah  for,"  he  said, 
fervently. 

"Indeed  we  have,"  I  agreed. 

"  There  is  nothing  like  tobacco,  efi'endim,"  he 
pursued. 

"Indeed  there  is  not.  This  is  just  what  one  of 
our  writers  has  said,"  and  I  quoted  to  him  Kingsley's 
fine  extravaganza  on  the  weed. 

"  Mashallah !"  exclaimed  the  Turk  in  ecstasy, 
*'  I  did  not  know  you  had  such  clever  writers  among 
you.  But  shall  I  tell  what  one  of  our  own  wise  men 
says  about  tobacco  ? " 

"  I  should  be  everlastingly  grateful  if  you 
would." 

"  Well,  you  know  that  the  Arabic  name  for  tobacco 


IN  THE  FOOTSTEPS  OF  ST.  PAUL  287 

is  douhhan.  But  I  do  not  think  you  know  how  it 
has  come  by  it." 

"  Indeed  I  do  not." 

"  Listen,  then,  and  you  will  soon  know.  Once  upon 
a  time  there  was  a  king  of  the  East.  Pie  had  an  only 
daughter,  who  suddenly  fell  ill.  All  the  physicians  in 
the  kingdom  waited  on  her,  but  none  could  cure  her. 
The  king  was  in  despair.  He  issued  an  edict,  saying 
that  he  who  would  cure  his  daughter  might  claim  any 
reward,  even  unto  one-half  of  his  kingdom.  At  last  one 
day  there  came  to  the  palace  a  poor  old  dervish, 
and  asked  to  see  the  patient.  He  closeted  himself  in 
the  sick-room  for  three  days,  and  at  the  end  of  that 
period  came  forth,  leading  the  princess  by  the  hand, 
radiant  with  health.  When  asked  how  he  had  effected 
this  miracle,  he  produced  from  his  bosom  several  dry 
yellow  leaves.  '  I  have  burnt  some  of  these  leaves 
and  made  her  inhale  the  smoke  thereof,'  he  answered. 
The  king  was  so  pleased  that  he  ordered  the  plant 
which  bore  those  leaves  to  be  henceforth  called  doweK- 
khan,  that  is,  the  king's  medicine,  which  is  the  same 
thing  as  doukhaii." 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  philological  merits 
of  the  story,  it  seems  to  prove  that  not  only  light  but 
also  smoke  came  to  us  from  the  East. 

Meanwhile,  we  were  rattling  on  at  a  fair  pace. 
The  white-washed  cottages  of  several  Mohammedan 
villages  and  tchiftliks  peeped  over  the  green  undula- 
tions of  the  valley,  and  several  slim  minarets  tapered 
upward  to  the  serene  azure  of  the  sky.  The  Moham- 
medans of  these  villages,  like  those  of  other  parts  of 
Macedonia,  are  not  genuine  Turks,  but  native  converts 
to  Islam.  Vestiges  of  their  origin  are  preserved  in 
their  patronymics,  such  as  Nicologlu  Ahmed,  Pascha- 


2  88  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

lioglu  Mustafa,  and  the  like,  which  correspond  to  the 
English-Moslem  names  Hadji- Abdullah  Brown,  Mo- 
hammed Russell,  and  other  philological  hybrids  of  the 
same  kind.  Only  three  of  these  villages  contain  any 
Greek  population  at  all.  One  of  them,  Doxatos,  stands 
on  the  road,  which  in  fact  cuts  through  the  very  heart 
of  it. 

Here  we  dismounted  and  refreshed  ourselves  with 
excellent  grapes,  for  which  we  paid  one  piastre  (2id.) 
per  oke  (3  lbs.),  and  then  resumed  our  journey  to  the 
south.  Soon  after  we  reached  a  stone  bridge  with  a 
limpid  stream  flowing  over  it.  We  had  to  dismount 
again  and  cross  it  on  foot,  over  a  few  rough  planks 
thrown  from  bank  to  bank,  while  the  carriage  waded 
through  a  ford  a  little  way  off.  This  is  another 
tributary  of  the  Anghista,  but,  before  joining  it,  it  is 
absorbed  by  the  greater  branch  at  Philippi. 

Two  and  a  half  hours  after  we  left  Drama,  we  stopped 
at  Philippi,  a  spot  fraught  with  memories  dear  to  the 
classical  and  to  the  Shakespearian  student,  to  Chris- 
tian and  to  Gentile  alike.  The  valley  at  this  point 
becomes  very  narrow.  Two  ridges  converging  from 
east  and  west  form  a  pass  commanded  by  a  fortress 
which  crowns  the  hill  on  the  west.  Down  the  steep 
slope  of  this  hill  stretch  the  ruins  of  the  old  town, 
girt  round  by  a  loop-holed  wall,  which  in  parts  still 
rises  to  a  height  of  some  ten  feet,  or  more.  On  the 
south-western  slope  there  also  are  plainly  visible  the 
tiers  of  the  old  theatre,  rising  one  over  the  other  in 
semicircles.  These,  in  addition  to  several  mutilated 
sculptures  and  inscriptions,  standing  higher  up  on 
the  walls  of  what  once  was  the  citadel,  are  all  that 
remains  of  the  city  founded  by  Philip,  conquered 
by  the  Romans,  and  Christianised  by  St.  Paul. 


IN  THE  FOOTSTEPS  OF  ST.  PAUL  289 

From  the  summit  of  the  hill  one  enjoys  a  grand  view 
of  the  broad  valley  in  which  the  Roman  legions  of  the 
East  and  the  West  met  in  deadly  conflict.  It  was  on 
this  plain  that  the  successors  and  the  assassins  of 
great  Csesar  measured  swords,  and  the  empire  of  the 
world  was  lost  and  won  in  a  day.  At  the  feet  of  these 
remnants  of  a  glorious  past  crouch  the  paltry  cabins  of 
the  Mohammedan  hamlet  of  Bunarbashi,  surrounded 
by  a  wilderness  of  Turkish  tombs,  in  hardly  less  ruin- 
ous condition  than  the  relics  of  the  old  civilisation 
which  their  tenants  helped  to  wipe  off  the  face  of  the 
earth. 

We  alighted  at  a  miserable  khan  kept  by  a  swarthy 
and  lanky  individual,  whom  his  shrewd  face  and  flat- 
tened skull  proclaimed  a  son  of  South  Albania.  The 
peculiar  formation  of  the  skull  is  not  due  to  nature,  as  a 
hasty  craniologist  might  surmise,  but  to  the  midwife. 
It  is  said  that,  when  a  South  Albanian  is  born  into 
the  world,  the  midwife  slaps  him  on  the  back  of  the 
head,  giving  at  the  same  time  utterance  to  the  wish 
that  he  may  live  to  be  "  a  baker  or  a  brigand,"  the 
sale  of  bread  and  the  spilling  of  blood  being  the  two 
most  lucrative  and  honourable  professions  in  that 
country. 

Within  the  precincts  of  this  inn  stands  the  be- 
grimed monument  of  the  Roman  C.  Vibius,  whose 
titles  and  achievements  can  still  be  deciphered  upon 
the  sides  of  the  block ;  poor  memorials  of  past  great- 
ness. A  marble  slab,  with  a  half-effaced  inscription, 
serves  as  a  doorstep,  and  some  fragments  of  columns 
are  built  into  the  enclosure  of  the  hhan. 

Facing  this  establishment,  and  a  little  farther  down 
on  the  plain,  are  the  massive  remnants  of  an  ancient 
gateway,    fringed    with    weeds,    and    known    to    the 

T 


2  90  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

natives  of  the  district  as  the  Palace  of  Alexander  the 
Great.     Such  is  Philippi  : — 

Parva  nunc  civitas,  sed  gloria  ingens, 
Veterisque  famse  lata  vestigia  manent. 

From  Philippi  onwards  the  road  climbs  up  a 
ridge,  which  grows  steeper  and  steeper,  so  that  the 
last  hour  and  a  half  of  our  journey  had  to  be  per- 
formed at  a  slow  pace  and  partly  on  foot.  But, 
when  we  gained  the  crest  of  the  hills,  there  was 
a  surprise  awaiting  us,  which  richly  atoned  for  the 
toil  of  the  ascent.  It  was  one  of  those  pictures  with 
which  Nature  occasionally  loves  to  reward  and  astonish 
the  patient  wayfarer. 

Far  beneath  our  feet  gleamed  the  Mediterranean, 
The  sight  of  the  bright  blue  sea,  with  its  limitless 
horizon,  after  the  dreary  months  spent  among  rocks 
and  ravines,  and  mountain-girt  valleys,  was  like  an 
awakening  from  an  oppressive  dream.  Its  smell  and 
its  music  were  intoxicating.  Then,  for  the  first  time, 
I  fully  understood  the  melodramatic  exhibition  of  joy 
of  the  Ten  Thousand  on  a  similar  occasion.  In  less 
uncongenial  society,  I  myself  might  have  cried  out, 
like  them,  "  Thalassa!  Thalassa!"  But  a  look  at  the 
Turk's  rigid  and  vacuous  countenance  was  enough  to 
congeal  a  whole  caldron  of  seething  sentiment,  and  I 
remained  silent. 

However,  the  sea  was  there,  twinkling  and  smiling 
and  inviting  admiration.  Its  violet-coloured  waves 
chased  each  other  and  dissolved  in  spray  upon  the 
low  sands  of  the  open  roadstead,  or  broke  in  angry 
foamy  billows  against  the  rocky  headland  on  the 
left.  Far  away  on  the  right  loomed  the  snow- 
capped peak  of  Mount  Athos  faintly  traced  against 


IN  THE  FOOTSTEPS  OF  ST.  PAUL  291 

the  sky,  and  straight  in  front  of  us  floated  the  isle 
of  Thasos,  with  its  olive-clothed  Mount  Ipsari — the 
island  travestied  by  the  choleric  old  gentleman  of  the 
Anthology  as 

"An  ass's  backbone  bristling  with  wild  wood." 

From  this  point  of  view  it  looked  more  like  a  colossal 
green  turtle  at  rest  upon  the  sapphire  bosom  of  the 
Mediterranean,  with  the  little  islet  of  Thasopoula  nest- 
ling by  its  side,  after  the  manner  of  a  youngster  seek- 
ing the  protection  of  its  parent. 

A  few  fishing  boats  and  other  light  craft  rocked 
in  the  open  roadstead,  along  the  shore  of  which  are 
sprinkled  the  white  villas  of  New  Cavalla.  Old 
Cavalla  rose  from  behind  its  battlemented  walls  on 
the  left.  It  is  built  on  the  promontory  which  juts 
out  boldly  into  the  sea,  with  an  antiquated  fortress 
beetling  in  impotent  isolation  on  its  summit.  A 
many-arched,  sky- sweeping  Roman  aqueduct  spans 
the  depression  between  the  mainland  and  the  crown 
of  this  cliff,  like  an  immense  bridge  reared  by  the 
hands  and  for  the  use  of  some  "  giant  race  before 
the  flood." 

At  the  base  of  the  eminence  on  which  we  stood 
the  road  forks  off  into  two  branches,  one  of  which  on 
the  right  leads  round  the  hills  to  Pravi,  and  the  other 
zigzags  down  the  slope  to  Cavalla,  anciently  Neapolis, 
famous  as  the  first  European  port  visited  by  the 
Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  on  his  way  to  Philippi  and 
Thessalonica.  It  required  little  efi'ort  of  the  imagina- 
tion to  picture  the  great  Hebrew  missionary,  with 
robes  girt  round  his  loins  and  face  aglow  with  spiritual 
enthusiasm,  struggling  up  this  self-same  path.  Could 
he  tread  that  road  again  he  would  find  the  crescent 


292  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

triumphant  over  the  regions  in  which  he  was  the  first 
to  plant  the  cross ;  the  city,  where  he  preached  the 
new  gospel,  a  heap  of  crumbling  ruins ;  the  church 
which  he  founded,  a  mere  name,  chiefly  remembered 
by  his  own  epistle  to  its  congregation. 


CHAPTER   XXXV 

CAVALLA 

Having  dismounted  at  the  hhan  where  the  coach 
stopped,  I  engaged  the  services  of  a  sturdy  Turkish 
hamal,  who  fastened  my  luggage  upon  the  pad  on 
his  back  and  led  the  way  through  the  bazaar  to  one 
of  the  hotels  of  the  town.  It  had  been  recommended 
to  me  by  Kyr  Photis  of  Drama,  and,  to  my  surprise, 
I  found  that  his  description  of  the  place  was  not  too 
remote  from  reality.  The  hotel  was  kept  by  a  German 
spinster  of  mature  years,  and  was  in  every  respect 
a  decent  second-class  establishment,  differing  little 
from  establishments  of  the  same  category  in  AVestern 
Europe. 

The  landlady,  in  return  for  my  French,  gave  me 
English,  which,  though  made  in  Hanover  and  much 
the  worse  for  disuse,  sounded  sweet  to  my  ears, 
accustomed  as  they  had  been  for  some  time  past  to 
a  babel  of  tongues,  not  always  intelligible  and  seldom 
euphonious.  Here  is  a  welcome  respite  from  the 
sordid  hardships  of  barbarous  travel,  I  thought.  The 
landlady's  voice  was  an  echo  of  civilisation,  and  I 
fancied  I  detected  in  its  tones  a  promise  of  cleanliness 
and  comfort,  a  promise  fully  realised  by  the  tidy  little 
bedroom  into  which  I  was  shown. 

I  laid  aside  my  fez,  my  beard,  and  my  incognito, 
cleansed  myself  of  all  impurity,  resumed  my  cloth  cap 
and  my  normal  identity,  and  strolled  out,  happy  in  the 


2  94  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

hope  of  a  Christian  dinner.  In  this  placid  frame  of 
mind  I  traversed  the  short  space  from  the  hotel  to 
the  turreted  archway  which  leads  into  Eski,  or  Old, 
Cavalla. 

Having  passed  between  the  iron  -  plated  gates 
which  now  repose  against  the  walls,  like  a  pair  of 
weary  veterans  ruminating  on  the  long  ago,  I  found 
myself  in  a  narrow,  crooked  street  paved  with  rough 
cobbles,  and  overshadowed  by  the  projecting  upper 
(— ^  storeys  and  lattice  balconies  of  the  houses.  This 
street  crawled  up  the  slope  of  the  cliff  on  which  the 
town  is  built.  Its  cleanliness,  silence,  and  somewhat 
uncanny  look  of  desertion  emphasised  the  fact  that 
I  was  in  a  typical  old  Turkish  quarter.  By  degrees 
these  features  grew  fainter.  The  noise  began  to  in- 
crease as  cleanliness  decreased,  and  the  sight  of  a 
church  belfry  apprised  me  of  the  fact  that  I  was  no 
more  amidst  the  dwellings  of  the  faithful.  The  front 
doors  of  the  houses  stood  open,  and  groups  of  chatter- 
ing old  women  of  both  sexes  sat  on  the  doorsteps, 
exchanging  their  views  on  domestic  and  foreign  affairs 
with  their  neighbours  across  the  road.  As  I  passed, 
I  saw  many  fingers  furtively  pointed  at  me,  and  I 
understood  that  my  personage  was  the  subject  of 
criticism  and  speculation. 

I  halted  on  the  top  of  the  cliff,  lit  a  cigarette,  and, 
leaning  over  the  battlements,  gazed  down  upon  its 
steep  sides  lashed  by  the  waves.  The  sun  had  just 
set,  and  the  mountains  of  Thasos  were  putting  on 
their  purple  night-apparel,  preparatory  to  retiring  into 
the  deepening  darkness.  I  was  enjoying  this  slow 
transformation  of  sea  and  landscape,  when  I  became 
conscious  of  a  number  of  people  earnestly  whispering 
behind  my  back.     Their  voices  rose  occasionally  to  a 


CAVALLA  295 

pitch  which  just  enabled  me  to  gather  the  drift  of 
their  discourse.  The  subject  under  debate  had  a 
peculiar  interest  for  me.  It  was  myself,  and  more 
particularly  my  nationality. 

"  He  can  hardly  be  a  Frenchman.  He  has  no 
moustache,"  said  one  voice. 

"He  is  not  a  German  either.  He  wears  no 
spectacles,"  added  another. 

Then  more  confused  whispering  ensued.  They 
were,  presumably,  betting.  This  in  its  turn  was 
followed  by  a  deep  hush.  It  was  the  pregnant 
silence  preceding  a  storm. 

Coming  events  cast  singularly  long  shadows  before 
them  in  the  East.  One  of  these  shadows  now  fell 
across  the  battlement  against  which  I  was  leaning. 

"Your  light,  if  you  please,"  thundered  a  voice 
close  to  my  ear. 

I  turned  round  and  beheld  a  determined-looking 
young  fellow  in  a  fortnight's  collar  round  his  neck 
and  a  coeval  beard  on  his  chin,  standing  beside  me. 
He  had  evidently  been  singled  out  to  lead  the  attack. 
The  boldness  of  his  tactics  commanded  my  admiration ; 
but  I  did  not  quite  relish  the  idea  of  being  stormed. 
I  therefore  handed  him  my  cigarette  without  uttering 
a  word.  But  the  young  general  seemed  to  have 
staked  his  reputation  as  a  strategist  on  this  particular 
campaign,  and  he  felt  in  honour  bound  to  persevere. 

"This  is  a  glorious  view,  sir,  is  it  not?"  he  re- 
marked, aggressively,  as  he  handed  me  back  my 
cigarette. 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  drily. 

Meanwhile  the  main  body  remained  in  speechless 
expectation  of  the  result  of  this  single  combat. 

The  general  changed  his  tactics. 


296  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

"Where  do  you  come  from  ?  " 

The  suddenness  of  the  move  nearly  threw  me  off 
my  guard,  but  I  rallied  in  time,  and,  looking  the 
dashing  youth  straight  in  the  face,  said,  blandly : — 

"  Do  you  happen  to  have  any  business  of  your 
own  i 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  unwarily.  "  I  keep  a  grocer's 
shop." 

*' Attend  to  your  shop,  then,  and  don't  worry 
strangers  with  impertinent  questions " — and  I  fixed 
my  eyes  on  the  sky-line. 

This  stern  rebuke  had  the  desired  effect.  When  a 
few  minutes  later  I  looked  round,  both  leader  and 
army  had  vanished  into  the  gathering  shadows  of 
night. 

Thirst  for  knowledge  is  an  excellent  quality,  but 
it  can  be  carried  to  excess.  The  young  grocer  would 
have  made  a  first-class  journalist  of  a  certain  type ; 
another  instance  of  how  talent  is  wasted  in  Turkey. 

Yeni,  or  New,  Cavalla  stretches  on  the  slopes 
along  the  beach,  outside  the  walls  of  the  old  town. 
As  its  name  indicates,  it  is  of  quite  recent  growth. 
In  fact,  it  has  not  done  growing  yet.  New  houses, 
mostly  of  stone  and  thoroughly  modern  in  style,  are 
daily  built,  and  the  settlement  presents  an  up-to-date 
appearance  in  startling  contrast  to  the  ancient  town 
and  its  superannuated  fortifications,  which  I  have 
already  described.  It  owes  its  birth  to  the  tobacco 
plantations  of  the  interior,  and,  notwithstanding  the 
want  of  safe  anchorage,  forms  the  chief  medium  of  the 
export  trade  of  the  district.  It  is  here  that  the  raw 
material  is  "  manipulated  "  before  it  is  shipped  off  to 
the  markets  of  Egypt,  England,  and  America. 

The    **  manipulation,"    which    consists    in   drying, 


CAVALLA  297 

sorting,  and  packing  the  tobacco-leaves,  is  carried  on 
in  the  long,  unpaved  and  unceiled  stores  of  the 
tobacco  merchants,  and  affords  a  lucrative,  though 
not  perhaps  quite  healthy,  occupation  to  thousands 
of  peasants  from  the  environs  and  from  the  island  of 
Thasos.  Rows  and  rows  of  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren can  be  seen  squatted  upon  the  damp  ground  of 
these  narrow  dungeons,  each  labourer  with  a  coil  of 
tobacco-leaves  or  a  tobacco-press  before  him  or  her. 
There  is  the  prematurely-aged  matron,  pale,  wrinkled, 
and  careworn,  and  by  her  side  a  bright-eyed,  olive- 
skinned,  coy  little  maiden.  These  are  Greeks,  pro- 
bably Thasiotes.  Next  to  them  may  be  seen  the  eyes 
of  a  Turkish  woman  peering  mysteriously  through  the 
folds  of  her  white  veil.  Men  there  are  too.  Men  of 
all  ages,  both  Christians  and  Mohammedans,  toiling 
side  by  side,  in  blessed  oblivion  of  the  barriers  of  caste 
which  elsewhere  separate  the  conqueror  from  the  con- 
quered. Necessity  is  no  respecter  of  creeds,  nor  is 
the  lynx-eyed  overseer  who,  whip  in  hand,  walks 
between  the  ranks  of  the  workers  to  see  that  no 
minute  out  of  the  twelve  hours  is  wasted,  and  ready 
to  visit  any  such  waste  upon  the  offender's  shoulders, 
with  a  fine  impartiality  as  to  race,  religion,  sex, 
or  age. 

At  the  time  of  my  visit  the  manipulation  season 
was  nearly  over,  and  many  of  the  labourers  had  already 
returned  to  their  village-homes.  I  had  an  opportunity 
of  witnessing  the  departure  of  several  batches  of 
Thasiotes  for  their  emerald  isle.  They  embarked  on 
the  light  saiHng  craft  (kmks)  moored  to  the  beach, 
and  as  soon  as  the  vessels  weighed  anchor  the  pas- 
sengers set  up  songs  of  rejoicing.  Some  of  these 
compositions  are  extremely  pathetic  in  tone  and  full 


298  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

of  quaint  conceits.  In  them  are  depicted  in  the 
darkest  colours  the  ills  of  exile — the  inhospitality 
of  foreign  parts  and  the  unsympathetic  attitude  of 
their  inhabitants  toward  the  homeless  and  homesick 
wanderer.  The  sentiment  is  genuine  enough,  although 
the  occasion  to  the  critical  stranger  seems  somewhat 
exaggerated.  Thasos  is  hardly  ten  hours'  sail  from 
the  mainland.  But  the  Thasiotes  share  the  common 
Greek  horror  of  expatriation  which  is  so  emphatically 
expressed  in  the  popular  distich  : — 

"  A  beggar's  lot  or  durance  vile 
Is  not  as  bitter  as  exOe." 

To  them  a  trip  to  Cavalla  really  means  a  long  voyage 
to  remote  and  unknown  lands. 

In  one  of  these  folk-songs  the  hero  bewails  the 
misfortune  that  during  his  enforced  residence  from 
home  "  his  clothes  were  washed  by  strange  women," 
that  "  a  strange  woman's  hand  smoothed  his  pillow 
when  he  was  ill,"  and  that,  alas  !  "  the  witchery  of 
the  strange  woman  compels  him  to  forsake  his  old 
sweetheart."  He  beseeches  the  birds  of  the  air  to 
bear  the  melancholy  message  to  his  betrothed,  and  bid 
her  wed  another,  for  he  will  never,  never  return  to 
the  olive  groves  of  his  native  land. 

With  such  songs  these  humble  labourers  celebrate 
the  day  of  return  to  their  hearths.  By  such  means 
they  strive  to  lift  the  prosaic  pursuit  of  the  bread- 
winner to  the  level  of  the  ideal.  Nature  gladly 
seconds  their  efforts  :  a  smooth  blue  sea  murmuring 
beneath  the  keel  of  the  haik,  a  white  sail  gently 
bulging  in  the  breeze,  a  sky  of  transcendent  bril- 
liance smiling  overhead,  and  the  green  shores  of  the 
island-home    drawing  nearer  and  nearer — what  more 


CAVALLA  299 

potent    stimulus   can  the   soul  of  a  gifted  race  want 
in  order  to  burst  into  poetic  expression  ? 

But  these  rude  peasants  and  islanders  are  not  the 
only  votaries  that  the  Muses  can  boast  at  Cavalla. 
Ere  many  days  elapsed  I  made  the  acquaintance 
of  two  bards  of  another  class.  One  of  them  was  a 
lad  employed  by  a  tobacco  merchant.  He  was  poor 
except  in  the  talent  for  amusing  improvisation,  which 
made  him  contented  with  his  lot  and  popular  among 
his  fellows.  He  presented  me  with  a  collection  of 
his  poetical  works  published  by  subscription  at  Con- 
stantinople. One  of  these  pieces  is  a  metrical  auto- 
biography, in  which  the  poet  gives  a  grotesque,  though 
hardly  over-coloured,  portrait  of  his  own  person  and 
character.     He  describes  himself  therein  as — 

"  Tall,  lanky,  long-necked,  lantern-jawed  ; 
But,  though  ugly,  not  learned. 
Almost  a  drunkard  and  of  a  sath-ic  turn  ; 

But,  though  a  poet,  an  honest  man  and  a  faithful  friend." 

Superior  in  ability  and  social  rank  alike  to  this 
limping  follower  of  the  Tuneful  Nine  was  a  gentle- 
man who  combined  the  trade  of  tobacco  with  the 
culture  of  verse.  The  first  storey  of  his  house  was 
filled  with  bales  of  tobacco-leaves,  the  second  with 
pictures  and  books.  He  was  an  enthusiastic  admirer 
of  Byron,  and  regretted  that  his  imperfect  knowledge 
of  English  forced  him  to  cultivate  the  acquaintance  of 
the  "Maid  of  Athens"  and  the  "Corsair"  through 
the  medium  of  a  translation.  He  recited  a  great 
many  of  his  own  productions  to  me,  and  as  a  part- 
ing gift  presented  me  with  his  photograph.  In 
compliance  with  my  request,  he  extemporised  on 
the  back  of  the  picture  a  few  lines,  the  easy  elegance 


300  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

of  which  I  dare  not  attempt  to  reproduce.  Suffice 
it  to  say  that  they  began  with  the  apostrophe  : 

"  0  friend,  who,  like  a  bee  in  verdant  bower." 

My  pleasure,  pride,  and  confusion  on  reading  this 
address  can  easily  be  imagined  when  I  confess  that 
to  be  called  a  bee  was  quite  a  novel  experience  for 
me,  unless  indeed  the  epithet  be  taken  to  include  a 
drone. 

From  the  Parnassian  heights  of  this  upper  storey 
the  poet  conducted  me  down  to  his  tobacco  stores. 
Tobacco  in  a  raw  condition  is  quite  a  diflerent  thing 
from  tobacco  presented  in  the  form  of  an  aesthetic 
cigarette.  This  is  a  warning  to  those  of  my  readers 
who  have  no  patience  with  prose.  All  such  persons 
will  do  well  to  skip  the  remainder  of  this  chapter. 

As  I  stated  before,  tobacco  is  the  life  of  the  place, 
and  a  source  of  wealth  both  to  the  people  and  to  the 
Government.  The  latter  out  of  the  Eegie  alone 
derives  a  yearly  income  of  ^(T)7oo,ooo.  And  yet  it 
will  neither  encourage  the  culture  of  a  weed  which 
pays  it  so  well  nor  will  it  allow  the  people  to  develop 
it  by  their  own  efforts.  Want  of  means  of  transport 
is  the  evil  of  which  both  the  tobacco-growers  and 
the  tobacco-traders  complain  most  bitterly.  The 
grievance  could  easily  be  removed  by  the  construc- 
tion of  a  branch  railway  line  between  Cavalla  and 
Drama,  a  distance  of  not  more  than  twenty-five 
miles.  The  merchants  have  offered  to  defray  the 
expenses  of  the  enterprise  out  of  their  own  pockets, 
but  the  Porte  has  refused  to  entertain  the  proposal. 
The  result  is  that  the  produce,  which  contributes 
so  rich  a  share  to  the  revenues  of  the  Empire,  has 
to   be  carried  to  port  in  those  primitive  buffalo-carts 


CAVALLA  301 

which  constitute  one  of  the  most  uncouth  and  un- 
wieldy, though  at  the  same  time  one  of  the  most 
amusing,  means  of  overland  transport  in  the  country. 

As  a  reason  for  this  suicidal  obstinacy  is  alleged 
the  same  fear  of  attack  from  the  sea  which  prompted 
the  Porte  to  alter  the  original  plan  of  the  Salonica- 
Dede-agatch  railway. 

A  similar  blindness  to  its  own  best  interests  leads 
the  Government  to  impose  many  foolish  restrictions 
on  trade.  Thus,  for  instance,  while  goods  transported 
overland  are  free  from  imposition,  the  same  goods,  if 
carried  from  one  point  on  the  coast  to  another  by 
boat — which  in  certain  cases  is  far  more  convenient — 
have  to  pay  an  eight  per  cent.  duty.  The  same  duty 
is  also  levied  on  all  goods  transmitted  from  one  port 
to  another,  two-thirds  of  it  being  refunded  if  they 
are  re-embarked  for  transmission  abroad.  By  such 
means  these  far-sighted  financiers  cripple  home  pro- 
duction to  the  benefit  of  the  foreign  importer. 

The  want  of  a  decent  harbour  has  likewise  been  a 
crying  evil  for  ages.  The  demand  dates  from  the 
early  days  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Mehemet  Ali, 
the  famous  satrap  of  Egypt — whose  house  at  Cavalla 
is  still  shown  to  the  tourist — when  he  attained  that 
proud  eminence,  bethought  himself  of  his  birthplace, 
and  offered  to  the  Sultan  of  the  day  the  option 
between  two  donations :  a  harbour,  or  a  kitchen  for 
the  poor.  The  Sultan,  with  characteristic  sagacity, 
chose  the  latter  gift,  and  thus  Cavalla  was  denied  a 
much-needed  harbour,  but  acquired,  instead,  the  con- 
genial institution  described  in  the  following  chapter. 

Nor  is  the  choice  hard  to  understand,  when  we 
consider  the  lively  feelings  of  distrust  with  which  the 
treacherous   element   has   always    inspired   the  Turk. 


302  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

The  present  Sultan  has  devoted  the  best  years  of  his 
life  to  the  destruction  of  his  own  navy,  and  that  is 
the  one  thing  in  which  he  has  proved  thoroughly 
successful.  Few  Turks  have  ever  been  known  to 
embrace  a  sea-faring  career  from  inclination,  and  still 
fewer  to  have  distinguished  themselves  therein.  All 
the  vessels  which  sail  under  the  Turkish  flag  are 
manned  by  Greeks,  and  the  only  admirals  who  have 
ever  led  a  Turkish  fleet  to  battle  were  English.  The 
Turk  may  be  a  very  lion  on  land,  but  on  board  ship 
he  is  hopelessly  at  sea. 

At  Cavalla  I  heard  a  pretty  story  illustrating 
Turkish  seamanship.  A  steamer  once  left  Con- 
stantinople on  its  way  to  Salonica.  After  three  days' 
fortuitous  steaming  it  reached  Cavalla.  Nor  did  the 
captain  find  out  his  mistake  until  he  landed.  Se  non 
e  vero,  e  ben  trovato. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

TEMBEL-HANEH,  OR  THE  LAZY  MANS  HOME 

The  above  is  the  sobriquet  by  which  the  Imaret  of 
Cavalla  is  locally  known.  The  Imaret  is  a  curious 
establishment  —  a  cross  between  a  college  and  a 
kitchen.  It  provides  board  and  lodging  for  some 
three  hundred  needy,  greedy,  and  seedy  softas,  or 
theological  students,  and  free  rations  of  pillaf  to  all 
comers. 

The  pillaf  is  the  typical  dish  of  the  Turk.  Like 
him  it  is  heavy,  dull,  and  stodgy,  possessing  plenty 
of  body,  but  hardly  any  soul  worth  mentioning.  You 
can  soon  have  enough  of  it.  But  so  think  not  the 
poor  of  Cavalla,  who  every  morning  flock  to  the 
portals  of  the  Imaret  armed  with  plates,  bowls,  trays, 
or  any  other  vessel  capable  of  holding  pillaf,  and 
eagerly  wait  for  the  gates  to  swing  back,  and  for  the 
grateful  steam  to  issue  forth  and  give  them  a  foretaste 
of  their  easily-earned  dinner.  The  rice  for  this  dish 
is  conveyed  in  big  cargoes  direct  from  Egypt,  while 
Arabia  supplies  the  green  berry  of  Mokha,  from  which 
is  made  the  sober  beverage  that  is  dearer  to  the  Turk 
than  whisky  is  to  the  Scot  or  vodka  to  the  Slav. 
Other  Mohammedan  countries  show  their  appreciation 
of  the  Imaret's  mission  by  periodical  donations  in  coin 
and  kind.  But  the  normal  and  most  considerable 
portion  of  the  income  of  the  foundation  are  the 
revenues  of  the  isle  of  Thasos,  wherewith  the  founder 


304  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

endowed  it.  Thasos  still  forms  part  of  the  Khedive's 
dominions,  and  is  governed  by  an  Egyptian  Bey  and 
a  few  Egyptian  officials,  who  divide  their  time  between 
the  olive  groves  of  the  island  and  the  coffee-shops  of 
the  mainland.^ 

The  popular  nickname  does  not  malign  these  insti- 
tutions in  the  least.  A  more  prolific  nursery  for  the 
propagation  of  indolence  and  ignorance  could  hardly 
be  devised.  The  Softas,  reared  in  the  unwholesome 
atmosphere  of  such  foundations,  have  always  distin- 
guished themselves  by  a  fierce  and  intolerant  dis- 
position. Whenever  the  Government  considers  a 
massacre  of  the  Christians  a  political  necessity,  it 
finds  in  these  students  of  theology  ready  and  zealous 
agents  for  the  awakening  of  that  spirit  of  bigotry 
which,  if  left  undisturbed,  slumbers  peacefully  in  the 
Turk's  heart.  Their  education  consists  in  committing 
to  memory  choice  passages  of  the  Koran,  in  drawing 
up  statistics  of  the  various  letters  of  the  alphabet 
found  in  the  various  Suras  of  "  The  Book,"  and  in 
eating  pillaf.  The  intervals  between  these  exercises 
are  filled  up  with  prayers  and  coffee. 

Apart  from  the  potent  allurements  of  free  board 
and  lodging,  the  Imaret  holds  out  the  privilege  of 
exemption  from  military  service.  Once  you  have 
become  a  Softa,  you  cannot  be  a  soldier.  No  power 
on  earth  can  force  you  to  exchange  the  white  turban 
and  baggy  breeches  of  the  student  for  the  red  fez  and 
tight   trousers  of  the  fighter.      All  these    attractions 

^  Since  the  above  lines  were  written  a  difierence  has  arisen  between 
the  Khedive  and  the  Sultan  concernin<T  the  island.  His  Imperial 
Majesty  has  recently  made  the  interesting  discovery  that  Egypt's  rights 
are  limited  to  the  revenue,  and  entail  no  jurisdiction  over  the  island, 
which,  accordingly,  has  been  organised  as  a  Turkish  Sandjak,  and  is  now 
governed  by  a  Moutessarif  appointed  by  the  Porte  (July  1902), 


TEMBEL-HANEH  305 

make  the  College  very  popular,  and  the  white  turban 
is  a  distinction  as  keenly  coveted  by  the  ambitious 
youth  of  Turkey  as  the  blue  cap  is  by  the  ambitious 
youth  of  England.  Many  of  the  students,  after  having 
'*  gone  down,"  return  into  residence  and  seek  in  their 
Alma  Mater's  arms  a  refuge  from  the  clutches  of  the 
recruiting  sergeant. 

On  Thursdays  and  Sundays,  in  addition  to  the 
staple  dish  of  pillaf,  there  is  meted  out  to  visitors 
another  delicacy  called  zerdeh,  and  concocted  of  rice 
flavoured  with  sugar  and  coloured  with  saffron.  Also 
a  sweet  kind  of  mashed  stuff  ndnaedfodla,  and  tasting 
like  a  line  of  Omar  Khayydm. 

During  my  stay  at  Cavalla  I  had  an  opportunity  of 
partaking  of  all  these  good  things. 

I  called  at  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  and 
was  first  ushered  into  the  kitchen — a  spacious  sand- 
strewn  apartment  with  a  vaulted  roof.  A  row  of  giant 
caldrons,  standing  upon  giant  iron  trivets  over  roar- 
ing fires,  indicated  without  any  ambiguity  that  cooking 
on  an  enormous  scale  was  carried  on.  The  head  cook 
received  me  at  the  door,  and  with  a  magnificent  sweep 
of  his  wooden  ladle,  proudly  pointed  to  the  boiling 
caldrons.  The  "  king  of  men "  could  not  have 
wielded  the  sceptre  "  given  unto  him  by  Zeus "  with 
a  more  majestic  air.     I  felt  deeply  impressed. 

"Is  all  this  pillaf?"  I  queried,  somewhat  vacu- 
ously. 

"  By  Allah  the  Merciful  and  Compassionate  it  is, 
Effendim  !  "  answered  his  Majesty  the  cook. 

A  greasy  smile  revealed  a  set  of  amber-like  teeth, 
and  his  voice  drowned  for  a  moment  the  roaring  and 
hissing  of  the  caldrons. 

"  And  will  it  be  ready  by  noon  ? "  whispered  I. 

u 


3o6  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

"  If  God  will,  yes,  EfFendim  !  "  roared  the  cook,  in 
a  tone  ^yhicll  belied  the  conventional  diffidence  implied 
by  his  words. 

The  cook  evidently  was  a  man  born  to  command. 

Pie  added  that  he  would  consider  it  an  honour 
if  the  illustrious  infidel  I'hodja  would  later  on  con- 
descend to  look  in  for  a  ladleful  of  pillaf,  and  so  he 
salaamed  me  out  of  his  domain. 

My  next  call  was  at  one  of  the  students'  rooms. 
There  were  over  sixty  of  these,  each  shared  between 
four  or  five  individuals.  At  the  door  the  fragrance 
of  the  fluid  of  the  mokha  berry,  referred  to  already, 
filled  my  nostrils.  I  timidly  stepped  in,  and  through 
a  cloud  of  smoke  observed  three  turbaned  and  bearded 
undergraduates  sitting  cross-legged,  upon  a  raised  plat- 
form, with  their  shoes  off,  studiously  imbibing  cojffee 
and  inhaling  nicotine  from  yard-long  tchihooks.  They 
gravely,  but  courteously,  motioned  me  to  sit,  or  crouch, 
beside  them.  With  a  befitting  temenah — which  means 
that  I  stooped  and  swept  the  air  with  my  right  hand 
and  then  touched  my  chin  and  brow — I  accepted  the 
invitation. 

A  fourth  turbaned  and  bearded  youth  of  some 
forty  summers  was  meanwhile  preparing  a  cup  of 
cofi'ee  in  the  little  red-brick  stove  with  which 
every  room  is  furnished.  A  shelf  over  my  head, 
with  two  or  three  volumes  of  elementary  arithmetic 
and  a  tattered  manuscript  of  the  Koran,  showed  that 
the  time  these  gentlemen  could  spare  from  sipping 
cofi'ee,  from  smoking  tchihooks,  and  from  sleep  was 
industriously  devoted  to  the  investigation  of  mathe- 
matical and  theological  problems. 

While  I  was  musing  on  these  matters,  I  was 
startled    by    a   strange    noise  —  a   combination    of    a 


TEMBEL-HANEH  307 

groan  and  a  grunt — from  above.  I  lifted  my  eyes 
in  alarm  and  behold  !  high  over  my  head  there  was 
a  fifth  turbaned  and  bearded  undergraduate  peering 
earnestly  down  upon  me  out  of  a  pair  of  dark, 
dreamy,  almond  eyes.  I  must  hasten  to  explain  that 
the  happy  owner  of  those  orbs  did  not,  as  I  at  first 
foolishly  thought,  emerge  from  heaven,  but  from  a 
kind  of  loft  or  gallery  running  round  three  sides 
of  the  room  and  dimly  lighted  by  a  small  iron- 
barred  window.  The  comparative  darkness  of  those 
upper  regions  and  the  clouds  of  smoke  which  wheeled 
around  them  had  prevented  my  noticing  the  existence 
of  the  loft  before. 

This  deus  ex  machina,  after  having  rendered  his 
presence  audible  in  that  unconventional  way,  pro- 
ceeded to  join  our  circle  in  an  equally  eccentric 
manner.  A  graceful  pair  of  woollen-socked  feet 
made  their  appearance  first ;  a  pair  of  many-folded 
petticoat  trousers  followed,  and  in  due  course  the 
whole  bundle  of  linen  was  rolled  up  in  a  corner 
opposite  me.  In  the  meantime  my  cofi'ee  had  been 
served  in  a  small  handleless  cup  of  the  size  and  shape 
of  a  half-egg,  and  I  set  about  sipping  it  and  smacking 
my  lips,  as  though  to  the  manner  born.  xAs  I  have 
elsewhere  stated,  the  oral  sounds  which  are  con- 
sidered unpardonable  sins  against  good  breeding 
amongst  men,  by  the  Turks  are  regarded  as  proofs 
of  gentility  and  are  diligently  cultivated.  My  pro- 
ficiency in  Turkish  etiquette  delighted,  I  was  sorry 
to  see,  my  hosts  so  much,  that  I  had  to  swallow  a 
third  scalding  cupful  ere  I  was  permitted  to  retire. 

My  next  visit  was  to  the  library,  which  I  found 
worth  a  thousand  caldrons  of  pillaf  and  an  ocean 
of  Mokha  cofi'ee  together.     Never  before  had  I  seen 


308  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

an  equal  number  of  objects  calculated  to  tempt  a 
scholar  to  a  breach  of  the  eighth  commandment 
amassed  in  an  equally  small  space.  Line  upon  line 
rose  the  carefully  labelled,  though  seldom  opened, 
manuscript  volumes  of  Persian  poets  and  Arab  sages 
—  each  richer  than  the  other ;  all  written  in  an 
exquisite  hand  upon  the  finest  parchment  imagin- 
able. My  fingers  itched  and  my  very  pockets  gaped ; 
but  my  principles,  reinforced  by  the  presence  of 
half-a-dozen  keen-eyed  attendants,  who  kept  peering 
over  my  shoulders,  overcame  the  temptation,  and  I 
left  the  place  none  the  wickeder,  though  a  great 
deal  the  wiser,  for  my  visit. 

On  my  way  out  I  again  stopped  at  the  kitchen, 
where  my  friend  the  cook  was  much  pleased  and 
edified  by  the  sight  of  a  Frank  Tdiodja  tasting  his 
dishes  as  hungrily  and  heartily  as  though  he  had 
graduated  at  the  Imaret.  His  Turkish  sang  froid 
broke  down  at  last  under  the  strain  of  his  enthu- 
siasm, and  I  had  the  gratification  of  hearing  my 
praises  sung  in  a  stage  whisper  behind  my  back. 

These  reminiscences  and  a  few  grains  of  rice 
which  clung  to  my  waistcoat  are  all  that  I  carried 
away  from  this  comfortable  home  of  the  Moslem  Muse. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII 

A    PILGRIMAGE    TO   THE   HOLY   MOUNT 

On  Sunday,  December  2,  at  noon,  we  left  Salonica 
on  board  the  Russian  steamer  Lazarevitch,  bound  for 
Mount  Athos.  The  sun  did  not  shine  on  that  day,  nor, 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  brief  intervals,  for  a  fort- 
night after.  Our  twelve-hour  passage  was  accom- 
plished under  a  leaden  sky  enlivened  by  intermittent 
rain.  In  harmony  with  these  physical  conditions  were 
the  feelings  of  the  pilgrims ;  a  single  note  of  discord 
being  struck  by  the  gleeful  laughter  of  my  companion's 
Greek  valet,  whose  pious  joy  at  being  able  to  visit  the 
Holy  Mount  (at  another's  expense)  was  not  to  be 
damped  even  by  a  cataclysm. 

Besides  Nicola  and  his  master,  there  was  with  us 
the  First  Dragoman  of  H.M.  Consulate,  a  nice  gentle- 
manly giant,  presumably  included  in  our  party  for  the 
purpose  of  adding  to  its  weight :  a  function  for  which 
he  was  eminently  fitted  by  nature.  What  his  actual 
displacement  was  I  will  not  venture  to  state  ;  but  his 
speed  may  be  surmised  from  the  fact  that  he  once 
facetiously  referred  to  himself  as  "  heavy  artillery  "  ;  a 
piece  of  ponderous  flippancy  which  did  not  fall  on 
stony  ground.  For  a  few  days  after  an  irreverent 
father,  at  a  moment  of  post-prandial  expansiveness, 
addressed  him  familiarly  as  Mahsousseh,  that  being  the 
name  of  a  Turkish  navigation  company. 

Mr.  B.   served  his  Britannic   Majesty  by  right  of 


310  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

inheritance ;  for  his  father  had  done  so  before  him, 
and  not  without  distinction.  The  name  of  the  latter 
is  recorded  in  the  books  of  Eastern  Travellers  of  the 
period,  and  is  still  mentioned  by  the  monks  of  Mount 
Athos  with  the  reverence  which  is  due  to  the  memory 
of  a  great  man  departed.  The  dragoman's  mantle  had 
descended  upon  the  son,  who  continued  to  act,  in  his 
spare  moments,  as  a  mediator  between  the  British  and 
the  local  authorities,  with  no  fee  and  little  zeal.  In 
addition  to  his  hereditary  and  personal  weight,  Mr.  B. 
was  remarkable  as  an  interesting  embodiment  of  the 
contradictions  wherein  the  East  is  so  rich :  an 
English  Dragoman,  he  knew  no  English  ;  though  a 
faithful  servant,  he  was  not  a  subject  of  the  British 
Crown ;  a  patriotic  Greek,  he  bore  an  xllbanian 
name — a  misfortune  of  which  he  did  not  like  to  be 
reminded. 

Such  was  the  greater  portion  of  our  company.  The 
rest  consisted  of  Nicola's  master  and  myself.  Nicola's 
master  was  a  member  of  a  much-maligned  profession. 
It  is  neither  my  intention  nor  my  business  to  decide 
how  far  the  scorn  heaped  upon  the  aforesaid  profession 
is  deserved.  But,  even  granting  the  justice  of  all  that 
has  been  said  and  written  against  it  from  the  beginning 
of  criticism  to  this  day,  I  can  still  with  a  clear  con- 
science sing  the  praises  of  my  fellow-pilgrim.  At  the 
worst  he  might  be  described  as  a  luminous  exception 
to  an  appallingly  gloomy  rule  —  as  one  of  the  few 
active  organs  in  what  severe  critics  have  called  "  a 
system  of  passivity."     He  was  a  British  Consul. 

En  revanche,  he  was  a  Milesian,  gifted  with  all  a 
Milesian's  native  drollery,  comically  at  war  with  a 
depressing  sense  of  professional  dignity.  He  and  I 
were  the  worst-matched  pair  that  ever  the  powers  pre- 


A  PILGRIMAGE  TO  THE  HOLY  MOUNT     311 

siding  over  the   incongruous   brought   together   in   a 
ship's  cabin. 

We  fell  out  on  the  everlasting  Eastern  Question. 
He  firmly  maintained  that  the  Ottoman  Empire  can  be 
mended,  while  I,  with  equal  firmness,  asserted  that  it 
can  only  be  ended. 

"  Reform  a  Turkdom — hardly.  A  wretched  old 
kettle,  ruined  from  top  to  bottom,  and  consisting 
mainly  now  of  foul  grime  and  rust :  stop  the  holes  of 
it,  as  your  antecessors  have  been  doing,  with  temporary 
putty ;  it  may  hang  together  yet  awhile :  begin  to 
hammer  at  it,  solder  it,  to  what  you  call  mend  and 
rectify  it ;  it  will  fall  to  sherds,  as  sure  as  rust  is 
rust ! " 

Thus  I,  astride  on  a  pegasus  borrowed  from  Carlyle's 
irascible  stud,  charged  at  the  phantom  of  a  super- 
annuated solecism.  My  friend,  champion  of  the  sole- 
cism, met  me  half-way  mounted  on  a  statistical  steed, 
incased  in  figures  and  fractions,  and  richly  caparisoned 
with  ancient  historic  facts  and  modern  diplomatic 
figments. 

The  tournament  ended  as  tournaments  of  the  kind 
usually  do :  in  a  frank  recognition  of  each  other's 
error. 

I  mocked  at  his  love  for  micrometric  detail,  telling 
him  that  he  could  not  see  the  forest  for  the  trees.  He 
denounced  what  he  was  pleased  to  call  my  "  chaotic 
confusion  of  thought,"  retorting  that  I  could  not  see 
the  trees  for  the  forest,  and  genially  counselling  me,  if 
it  were  not  too  late,  "  to  endeavour  and  kill  super- 
ficiality by  a  dose  of  thoroughness." 

I  was  silenced,  though  not  pleased. 

In  the  meantime  the  Lazarevitch  was  ploughing  the 
deep  at  the  rate  of  nine  knots  an  hour.     We  sailed 


312  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

out  of  the  Gulf  of  Salonica,  leaving  the  clouded  mass 
of  Mount  Olympus  on  our  right,  and  the  peninsula  of 
Cassandra,  the  westernmost  prong  of  the  Chalcidic 
Trident,  on  the  left.  Darkness,  unrelieved  by  a  single 
star,  overtook  us  apace,  and  at  midnight  we  cast 
anchor  at  Daphne,  the  sea-port,  or  rather  roadstead  of 
the  Holy  Mount. 

We  lay  that  night  at  the  inn  of  Daphne,  where  my 
fellow-travellers  slept,  while  I  listened  with  awe  to 
the  Cyclopean  snoring  of  the  Dragoman. 

Next  morning  we  rose  with  the  cocks.  I  use  the 
word  advisedly ;  for  there  are  no  hens  on  the  Holy 
Mount ;  nor  any  other  animal  of  the  gentler  sex.  All 
feminine  creatures  are  strictly  excluded  from  the  penin- 
sula in  obedience  to  an  ancient  rule,  the  real  origin  of 
which  is  lost  in  the  mists  of  early  Christianity,  but 
which  monastic  lore  explains  by  a  pious  legend.  It  is 
said  that  the  Blessed  Virgin  rescued  the  son  of  the 
Emperor  Theodosius  from  shipwreck,  and  brought 
him  safely  on  shore.  On  landing  with  the  prince  she 
said  :  "  Let  no  other  woman's  feet  tread  the  sacred  soil 
after  me." 

The  consequence  is  that  the  mountain  has  for 
centuries  been  a  stronghold  of  masculine  supremacy : 
a  land  where  all  fowls  are  cocks  ;  all  sheep  rams ;  all 
cats  Toms ;  all  housemaids  men,  and  most  men  monks. 
Nay,  the  devout,  in  spite  of  strong  ocular  evidence  to 
the  contrary,  affirm  that  even  the  birds  of  the  air 
labour  under  this  sexual  limitation.  A  sceptical 
Russian  pilgrim  once  ventured  to  doubt  the  strict 
observance  of  the  law  by  the  winged  tribes  of  spar- 
rows, crows,  and  doves,  pointing  to  a  number  of  the 
latter  engaged  in  amorous  dalliance  on  the  very  roof 
of  a  chapel.     A  friendly  brother  hastened  to  suggest 


A  PILGRIMAGE  TO  THE  HOLY  MOUNT     313 

that  he  must  surely  be  possessed,  and,  so  the  story 
runs,  the  Russian  was  fain  to  expiate  his  indiscretion 
by  paying  a  fine. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  understand  how  a  rule  estab- 
lished for  very  obvious  reasons  has  in  time  become  the 
nucleus  round  which  a  nebulous  mass  of  legend  has 
gradually  collected.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  practical 
result  of  the  law  is  that  neither  eggs  nor  milk  are  to 
be  had  for  breakfast,  and  neutral  mules  form  the  only 
means  of  transport.  A  squadron  of  these  ships  of 
the  mount  were  waiting  for  us  outside  the  gate  of  the 
inn,  tinkling  their  bells. 

The  first  rays  of  the  sun  were  temporarily  gilding 
the  bald  crown  of  the  Holy  Mount,  as  we  sallied  forth 
in  imposing  cavalcade,  led  by  one  of  the  long-haired, 
red-capped,  white-kilted  guards  of  the  holy  common- 
wealth. Panaghiotis  was  his  name,  manly  was  his 
stride,  and  vain  were  all  our  eftbrts  to  keep  up  with 
him ;  vigorously  though  we  strove  by  stick  and  spur  to 
emulate  his  goat-like  agility.  Alas  !  our  mules'  steps, 
though  sure,  were  slow,  and  Panaghiotis  swang  far  in 
advance,  flint-lock  on  shoulder,  exulting  in  his  nimble- 
ness.  Every  part  of  him  appeared  to  be  instinct  with 
vivacity:  from  the  long  blue  tassel  which  dangled 
loosely  at  the  end  of  his  voluminous  fez  behind,  to  the 
twin  crimson  tufts  of  thread  which  fluttered  from  the 
turned-up  points  of  his  sandals  in  front.  His  broad 
white  sleeves  bulged  out  like  a  pair  of  balloons,  and 
his  plaited  fustanella  swayed  a  rhythmic  accompani- 
ment to  his  springy  step.  Thus  armed  and  arrayed, 
Panaghiotis  skipped  lithely  from  rock  to  rock,  leading 
us  over  an  imaginary  road. 

Two  brethren  of  the  monastery  of  Kutlumussi — 
lean,  dark,  and  pale-faced  the  one  ;  the  other  a  round- 


314  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

paunched  elder  with  a  flowing  white  beard — formed 
part  of  the  procession,  perched,  like  ourselves,  on  two 
sleek  monastic  mules,  while  the  portly  interrupter 
of  my  night's  slumbers  brought  up  the  rear,  lending 
an  air  of  stateliness  to  our  caravan. 

On  our  left  stretched  the  sea,  whose  silver-crested 
wavelets,  sparkling  to  the  sunbeams,  rolled  smoothly 
along  the  surface  and  expired  with  a  soft  murmur  on 
the  beach.  On  the  right  the  mountain  rose  steep  and 
bare,  and  to  this  we  now  turned  our  mules'  heads,  fol- 
lowing our  guide.  After  half-an-hour's  climbing  up 
the  precipitous  side  of  the  ridge  we  seemed  to  have 
reached  the  limits  of  the  Sun's  realm,  for  the  rain 
came  down  in  torrents,  turning  the  hollow  mule-track 
into  a  water-course  and  forcing  us  to  hoist  our  um- 
brellas— a  measure  disastrous  to  the  dignity  of  our 
procession.  Even  the  stately  Dragoman  abandoned 
all  thoughts  of  sublimity  and  ambled  on,  an  amorphous 
mass  of  dripping  obesity. 

Another  hour's  toilsome  ascent  brought  us  to  the 
crest  of  the  ridge,  which  runs  down  the  length  of  the 
peninsula,  starting  from  the  narrow  isthmus,  where  the 
remains  of  the  Persian  king's  canal  can  still  be  seen, 
and  rising  towards  the  southern  end  to  a  height  of 
some  four  thousand  feet.  There  it  sinks  slightly, 
as  though  in  preparation  for  a  last  leap,  and  suddenly 
shoots  up  into  a  colossal,  conical  peak,  so  high  that 
the  shadow  thereof  is  said  to  darken  the  team  of  the 
husbandman  in  distant  Lemnos,  what  time  the  sun 
retires  to  rest.  From  that  giddy  eminence  it  falls 
precipitously  into  the  sea,  to  form  one  of  the  pro- 
montories most  sincerely  dreaded  by  the  Mediterranean 
mariner. 

On  reaching  that  point  we  caught  our  first  glimpse 


A  PILGRIMAGE  TO  THE  HOLY  MOUNT     315 

of  Karyes,  the  tiny  capital  of  the  monastic  republic, 
with  its  quaint  domes  embedded  in  groves  of  hazel 
trees,  which  lend  to  the  hamlet  their  name.  These 
trees,  together  with  the  olive,  the  cypress,  the  lemon 
and  orange,  fringe  the  skirts  of  the  mountain,  while 
the  oak,  the  beech,  the  chestnut  and  the  fir  mantle  the 
higher  slopes  successively ;  all  vegetation,  save  the 
anaemic  amaranth,  ceasing  at  some  two  thousand  feet 
below  the  summit. 

The  sight  of  our  destination  evidently  stirred  our 
Highland  guard's  martial  spirit,  for  our  sensitive  mules 
and  their  riders  were  suddenly  startled  by  a  loud  report 
from  the  flintlock,  followed  by  several  other  explosions, 
which  roused  the  myriad-mouthed  echo  of  the  moun- 
tain. On  inquiring  the  reason  of  this  pyrotechnic 
display,  we  were  informed  that  it  was  the  customary 
method  of  announcing  the  arrival  of  distinguished 
guests. 

In  a  few  more  minutes  we  found  ourselves  at  the 
portals  of  the  monastery  of  Kutlumussi,  where  many 
brethren,  clad  in  their  black  robes  and  lofty,  brimless 
hats,  were  drawn  up  to  greet  us.  We  dismounted, 
while  the  surrounding  rocks  reverberated  with  the 
peals  of  bells,  their  iron  tongues  wagging  a  deafen- 
ing welcome  to  "  the  distinguished  guests."  The  monks 
filed  in,  crossing  themselves  and  bowing  to  the  sacred 
icon  which  surmounts  the  porch.     We  followed. 

Our  attention  was  here  drawn  to  an  object  sus- 
pended with  grim  significance  on  one  side  of  the 
porch.  It  was  a  heavy  mace,  ending  in  a  round  iron 
knob  :  according  to  some  an  obsolete  instrument  of 
castigation  for  certain  delinquencies ;  according  to  ( 
others  a  harmless  emblem  of  power  granted  to  the 
monastery  by  the  Byzantine  Emperors  "in  the  dark 


3i6  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

backward  and  abysm  of  time."  In  the  opinion  of 
these  latter  authorities  the  knob  originally  was  of 
gold,  the  transformation  into  a  baser  metal  being 
due  to  the  excessive  piety  of  certain  pilgrims,  who 
took  advantage  of  its  proximity  to  the  gate  and  carried 
it  away  among  the  pictures,  crosses,  rosaries,  wooden 
spoons,  scratchbacks,  and  other  souvenirs  of  their 
pilgrimage. 

While  these  explanations  were  vouchsafed  to  us 
by  rival  authorities,  we  passed  through  two  or  three 
double  sets  of  iron-plated  gates,  traversed  the  court, 
and  were  conducted  into  the  Catholicon.  There  the 
monks  intoned  a  short  service,  in  which  the  prayers 
for  victory,  once  intended  for  the  arms  of  the  Emperors 
of  Constantinople,  were  skilfully  adapted  to  those  of 
our  late  Queen  ;  a  slight  confusion  in  genders  being 
obviously  due  to  the  emergency  of  the  case.  While 
submitting  to  these  official  honours,  wherein  I  was  an 
undeserving  and  accidental  participator,  I  had  ample 
time  to  observe  and  admire  the  sombre  beauty  of  the 
old  Byzantine  church,  the  venerable  pictures  of  saints, 
effulgent  with  gold  and  gems,  the  elegant  lecterns 
inlaid  with  ivory,  the  silver  candelabra,  and,  above  all, 
the  curious  bronze  coronal,  suspended  from  the  middle 
of  the  central  dome  with  a  number  of  ostrich  eggs 
hanging  between  icons  and  lamps,  as  symbols  of  devo- 
tional concentration  of  thought,  derived  from  an  ancient 
myth,  according  to  which  the  young  of  the  bird  in 
question  are  hatched  by  the  mother's  eye  affectionately 
fixed  upon  the  eggs. 


CHAPTEE   XXXVIII 
AMONG  THE   LOTOS-EATERS 

With  Kutlumussi  as  our  base  of  operations  we  ex- 
plored in  a  fortnight  all  the  other  nineteen  monas- 
teries and  a  few  of  the  sTcetes,  or  monastic  communities, 
which,  together  with  a  vast  number  of  hermitages, 
cover  the  slopes  or  are  hidden  in  the  ravines  of  the 
Holy  Mount.  Provided  with  a  circular  letter  of  re- 
commendation by  the  Holy  Synod  of  the  common- 
wealth, assembled  at  Karyes,  we  were  everywhere 
received  in  a  manner  befitting  our  importance.  Apart 
from  the  pomp  and  solemnity — pyrotechnic  displays, 
special  services,  and  wagging  of  iron  tongues — due 
mainly  to  the  official  position  of  my  fellow-pilgrim, 
and,  perhaps,  in  part  to  the  innocent  machinations  of 
the  Consular  giant,  who  had  many  friends  among  the 
monks,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  the  brethren  in  enter- 
taining us  were  actuated  by  the  purest  kindness  of 
heart. 

At  a  whisper  from  the  pious  valet,  who  was 
anxious  to  kiss  all  the  relics  preserved  in  the  various 
shrines,  thousands  of  redolent  skulls,  hands,  and 
joints,  as  well  as  pieces  of  the  true  Cross,  encased 
in  caskets  of  silver  and  gold,  and  profusely  decorated 
with  pearls  and  precious  stones,  were  exhibited  for 
our  inspection ;  the  heavy  doors  of  the  libraries  were 
thrown  open  to  us,  and  illuminated  manuscripts  were 
taken   down    from  their   shelves  for  our  edification ; 

3»7 


3i8  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

all  the  information  which  we  desired  concerning  the 
history,  ancient  and  modern,  legendary  and  profane, 
of  the  place,  was  readily  afforded  us,  and  even,  on 
hearing  that  I  was  interested  in  folk-lore,  some  offered 
to  obtain  for  me  Klephtic  songs  from  a  certain  robber- 
chief,  who  was  expiating  the  sins  of  his  youth  by 
acting  as  defender  of  the  Faith  in  his  old  age.  In 
a  word,  we  were  honoured  with  all  that  unstinted 
hospitality  for  which  the  mountain  is  justly  famous. 
If  there  was  anything  lacking  in  the  matter  of  diet, 
that  was  partly  due  to  the  absence  of  feminine  cattle 
and  fowls,  partly  to  the  monastic  conception  of 
cookery  —  with  which  a  generously  -  entertained 
stranger  has  no  right  to  quarrel — and  partly  to  the 
accident  of  our  visit  occurring  in  the  midst  of 
Advent.  This  circumstance  was  responsible  for  the 
fact  that  fish,  under  a  thousand  and  one  strange 
manifestations,  formed  our  food  day  after  day;  so 
much  so  that  at  the  end  of  the  fortnight  one  felt 
strongly  tempted  to  paraphrase  the  Scotch  minister's 
thankless  grace :  "  Fishes  hot,  fishes  cold ;  fishes 
young,  fishes  old  ;  fishes  tender,  fishes  tough ;  thank 
the  Lord,  we've  had  enough ! " 

Our  hosts  seemed  cheerfully  resigned  to  this  fare. 
The  whole  tenor  of  their  lives  is  an  alternation  of 
severe  fasting  and  strenuous  feasting,  punctuated  by 
frequent  prayers  and  vigils.  To  these  last  functions 
they  are  summoned  by  the  semantron,  a  quaint  gong 
of  wood  or  iron,  struck  with  a  hammer  of  corresponding 
material.  The  deep,  dull  tones  of  this  antiquated 
instrument  of  torture  may  often  be  heard  in  the  dead 
of  night  floating  down  the  dark  and  empty  corridors. 
At  its  mournful  sound  the  caloyer  must  relinquish  his 
warm  couch  and,  unkempt  and  unawakened,  hurry  to 


AMONG  THE  LOTOS-EATERS  319 

the  damp,  dimly-lighted  church  below.  Attendance  is 
not  always  an  act  of  spontaneous  piety.  Many  a  monk 
would  prefer  to  retain  his  horizontal  position  in  bed, 
and  some  endeavour  to  regain  it  at  the  earliest  oppor- 
tunity. A  young  saint  moved  me  to  tears  by  the  con- 
fession of  the  laborious  scheming  by  which  he  compassed 
this  end.  When  he  could  no  longer  obtain  exemption 
on  the  plea  of  ill-health,  he  would  go  to  chapel,  but 
not  stay. 

"  Our  abbot  is  grievously  strict,"  he  said.  "  Taper 
in  hand,  he  goes  round  from  stall  to  stall,  peering  into 
each  brother's  face,  in  order  to  satisfy  himself  that  we 
are  all  there.  Very  well.  I  occupy  the  first  stall  close 
to  the  column  on  the  right.  The  old  man  inspects  me 
and  passes  on.  Then  I  slip  round  the  column,  and  so 
to  bed." 

I  bethought  me  of  our  College  chapel  bell,  which 
seemed  to  ding  into  our  undergraduate  ears  : — 

Sleep  no  more ! 
The  Dean  does  murder  sleep, 

of  our  own  feelings  towards  compulsory  devotions, 
and  of  our  stratagems  for  evading  the  same,  and  in 
the  wicked  monk  I  recognised  a  brother. 

There  are  two  classes  of  monasteries  :  the  caenobite 
and  the  idiorrhythmic.  In  the  former  the  brethren, 
forbidden  the  luxury  of  a  private  purse,  live  on  terms 
of  impecunious  equality,  under  the  autocratic  rule  of 
an  abbot.  They  sleep  in  small,  comfortless  cells,  and 
their  meals  are  held  in  a  common  refectory.  There 
they  sit  in  orderly  groups  by  fours  and  by  fives  round 
massive  marble  tables,  while  one  of  them  reads  aloud 
from  a  pulpit  the  story  of  the  martyrdom  of  the  saint 
to  whose  memory  the  day  is  consecrated,  or  some  other 


320  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

exhilarating  narrative.  Appetite  is  further  stimulated 
by  the  sight  of  the  frescoes  on  the  walls,  wherein  are 
unfolded  the  refreshing  horrors  of  Hell.  There  is  seen 
the  sinner  disporting  himself  on  a  bonfire,  eagerly  fed 
by  a  troop  of  merry  demons ;  or  the  man  who  is  con- 
tinually swallowed  up  by  a  monster,  with  a  second  head 
where  its  tail  ought  to  be ;  or  the  man  slowly  broiling 
over  an  eternal  gridiron ;  all  detailed  with  exquisite 
realism  and  no  perspective.  Thus  the  frugal  pleasures 
of  the  monastic  table  are  enhanced  by  edifying  art,  and 
the  mind  is  improved  while  the  stomach  is  filled. 

The  idiorrhythmic  monasteries,  to  which  my  fellow- 
pilgrim  once  with  fortuitous  infelicity  referred  as  dithy- 
rambic,  lack  this  pleasing  feature,  or,  if  they  possess  it, 
it  is  only  used  on  occasions  of  exceptional  festivity. 
In  these  monasteries  each  monk  is  his  own  master, 
living  in  his  own  room,  or  suite  of  rooms,  according  to 
the  length  of  his  purse  and  the  bent  of  his  tastes, 
subject  to  no  restrictions  except  those  imposed  by 
public  opinion.  In  these  communities  the  upper  class 
of  brethren  form  a  kind  of  sacred  aristocracy,  engaged 
in  administrative  work,  or  enjoying  a  more  or  less 
uncultured  leisure.  They  neither  sow  nor  reap,  but 
their  well-invested  capital  feeds  them.  This  capital 
often  is  the  outcome  of  judicious  management  of  the 
community's  estates ;  for  many  of  the  monasteries, 
thanks  to  imperial  and  private  munificence  of  over  a 
thousand  years,  own  broad  acres  in  various  parts  of 
Turkey,  Greece,  Roumania,  and  Russia.  The  steward- 
ship of  one  of  the  Russian  estates  especially  is  a  much- 
coveted  and  keenly-contested  prize.  Each  of  these 
monks  has  under  his  wing  a  number  of  novices,  towards 
whom  he  stands  in  the  relation  of  a  spiritual  father  or 
sponsor.     In  return  for  a  more  or  less  long  term  of  mild 


AMONG  THE  LOTOS-EATERS  321 

servitude,  he  initiates  them  into  the  mysteries  of  monas- 
ticism,  and,  departing,  bequeathes  to  them  his  fortune. 

The  rank  and  file  of  both  categories  of  caloyers 
have  by  no  means  an  ideal  time  of  it.  It  is  they  who, 
with  the  assistance  of  a  few  lay  servants,  cultivate  the 
olive  groves  and  irrigate  the  vineyards,  who  fell  the 
timber,  who  man  the  monastic  fleet  of  sailing  craft, 
and  who  fish  with  their  picturesque  seines.  It  is  to 
their  industry  that  Mount  Athos  owes  its  privileged 
position  among  the  Sultan's  dominions.  Whereas 
everywhere  else  in  Turkey  one  is  confronted  with  the 
saddening  sight  of  dismantled  hills  and  disafforested 
mountains,  in  the  holy  peninsula  the  greatest  care  is 
taken  of  the  woods,  no  tree  being  cut  down  unless 
there  is  a  young  sapling  to  take  its  place.  A  like 
contrast  is  perceived  in  the  roads,  or  rather  mule-tracks, 
which  are  kept  in  excellent  repair.  Many  of  the  monks 
of  this  class  are  skilled  in  handicrafts,  such  as  the 
carving  of  wood,  the  manufacturing  of  rosaries  of  bone, 
mother-of-pearl,  or  the  diminutive  lemons  with  which 
the  blasts  of  early  spring  strew  the  ground.  The 
painting  of  sacred  pictures  is  another  art  assiduously 
cultivated,  and  now  and  again  there  is  to  be  met  a 
scribe  nursing  the  moribund  art  of  copying  and  illumi- 
nating manuscripts. 

All  these  caloyers,  if  members  of  a  coenobite,  work 
as  a  matter  of  duty  ;  if  of  an  idiorrhythmic,  as  a  matter 
of  necessity.  But  as  neither  of  these  motives  affects 
the  upper  class  of  monks,  so  the  standard  of  industry 
is  comparatively  low  among  the  latter.  There  are  a 
few  learned  and  refined  men  among  them.  There  are 
also  several  whose  sincere  piety  and  dignified  sim- 
plicity of  manner  entitle  them  to  all  respect.  But 
many  seem  to  have  donned  the  monastic  garb  out  of 


322  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

sheer  indolence.  The  ampHtude  of  their  girdles  sug- 
gests anything  but  asceticism,  and  their  conversation 
reveals  the  curious  fact  that,  though  ailments  are  not 
uncommon,  they  seldom  are  of  a  spiritual  nature.  In 
the  majority  of  cases  it  is  the  stomach  rather  than  the 
soul  that  stands  in  most  urgent  need  of  help. 

Even  in  the  case,  by  no  means  rare,  of  those  who 
embrace  this  life,  prompted  by  a  sincere  desire  to  save 
their  souls,  a  sceptical  observer  might  be  pardoned 
for  entertaining  grave  doubts  as  to  the  wisdom  of  their 
choice.  With  certain  exceptions,  neither  study  nor 
charity  enters  into  their  programme  ;  but  to  live  the 
world  forgetting,  by  the  world  forgot,  chewing  the  cud 
of  meditation,  and  eschewing  temptation,  is  their  selfish 
end  and  aim.  In  this  they  faithfully  carry  out  the 
ideal  which  was  the  original  basis  of  Eastern  monasti- 
cism :  each  man  for  himself,  and  God  for  all.  By 
taking  refuge  from  the  hurly-burly  of  life's  stormy 
main  in  the  sterile  calm  of  the  monastic  cell,  they 
narrow  their  minds  and  starve  their  affections.  In 
seeking  spiritual  salvation  they  achieve  spiritual 
suicide.  This  is  the  view  which  the  sceptical  observer 
would  take.     I  voice  it  without  necessarily  holding  it. 

Nature  favours  their  efforts.  Although  our  visit 
fell  at  a  time  of  the  year  when  the  vineyards  were 
denuded  of  their  foliage,  the  beech-forests  were  bathing 
in  the  chilly  glow  of  autumnal  gold-tints,  the  nightin- 
gales were  silent,  the  heavens  lowering,  and  the  sea 
raging,  yet  one  could  easily  picture  the  place  enveloped 
in  the  luxuriant  beauty  of  a  southern  summer :  its 
broad  views,  its  blue  seas  and  serene  skies,  its  limpid 
rills  and  warbling  birds,  its  harmonious  contrasts  of 
rock  and  water,  glade  and  thicket,  light  and  shade  ; 
a  veritable  banquet  of  form  and   colour,  such  as  an 


AMONG  THE  LOTOS-EATERS  323 

artist's  soul  might  love  to  feast  upon  and  never  be 
surfeited.  Indeed,  the  earth  offers  no  more  tempting 
spot  to  the  dreamer  whose  ideal  of  felicity  is 

"  To  lie  amid  some  sylvan  scene, 
Where,  the  long  drooping  boughs  between, 
Shadows  dark  and  sunlight  sheen 
Alternate  come  and  go." 

When  to  these  charms  are  added  the  rigorous 
exclusion  of  disturbing  elements,  and  the  careful 
weeding  out  of  all  worldly  interests  and  cares,  can 
we  wonder  that  the  monks'  lives  are  long  and  mo- 
notonous ?  "  Nature  and  history  have  combined  in 
making  Mount  Athos  what  it  is  :  a  milkless,  mirthless 
seat  of  superstitious  meditation,  where  sanctity  is 
hatched  in  sable-folded  idleness,  where  the  spirit 
slumbers,  rocked  in  the  cradle  of  mediaeval  faith.  No 
breath  of  scepticism  wafted  from  the  outer  world  ever 
reaches  these  lotophagian  retreats,  no  aspiration  of 
those  that  agitate  the  'purblind  race  of  miserable 
men'  ever  quickens  the  pulse  of  these  melancholy 
anchorites.  A  miraculous  vision  or  a  day-dream  ever 
and  anon  visits  their  slumbers,  but  wakes  them  not. 
In  olden  times  a  monk  would  occasionally  soar  upon 
the  wings  of  prophecy ;  another,  by  persistent  and 
unwearied  contemplation  of  his  navel,  could  evoke 
therefrom  a  source  of  imaginary  light,  a  feat  which 
once  rent  the  Eastern  world  by  a  long  and  fierce 
controversy.  But  even  these  exercises  have  grown 
scarce  of  late.  So  have  the  miracles  recorded  of  olden 
times.  No  icon  has  vouchsafed  to  speak  or  bleed  in 
these  degenerate  days.   .  .  ."  ^ 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is  many  a  monk  who 

^  Extract  from  the  diary  of  the  Sceptical  Observer  already  quoted. 


324  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

has  not  been  "  in  the  world,"  that  is,  beyond  the 
boundaries  of  the  peninsula,  either  in  the  body  or 
in  the  spirit,  for  half  a  century ;  while  some  have 
not  even  crossed  the  threshold  of  their  own  monastery 
for  a  like  period.  The  attitude  of  mind  engendered 
by  these  conditions  is  profoundly  interesting. 

Brother  Ambrose  is  an  extreme  instance.  He 
belongs  to  a  monastery  in  which  we  stayed  three 
days  close  prisoners  of  the  weather,  while  our  over- 
coats were  diying  before  the  kitchen  fire.  Through- 
out that  period  it  appears  that  the  brother's  ambition 
was  to  have  a  conversation  with  us ;  but  his  efforts 
had  hitherto  been  frustrated  by  our  politic  host,  who, 
intelligent  and  educated  himself,  was  naturally  desirous 
of  keeping  his  less  gifted  brother  in  the  background, 
or  what  would  the  "distinguished  guests"  think  of 
the  intellectual  standard  of  the  community  ? 

Ambrose's  tenacious  cunning,  however,  rose  superior 
to  obstacles.  Availing  himself  of  a  momentary  re- 
laxation of  vigilance  on  the  part  of  the  Argus  who 
guarded  us,  he  slipped  into  the  room  and  introduced 
himself.  He  was  a  grey  Goliath  with  a  shaggy  mane, 
which  struggled  to  free  itself  from  his  towering  black 
cap,  beard  to  match,  beetling  eyebrows,  and  a  pair 
of  eyes  full  of  vacuous  earnestness.  Brother  Ambrose 
would,  under  favourable  circumstances,  have  under- 
taken the  role  of  inquisitor  or  martyr  with  equal  ease 
and  pleasure. 

The  first  conventional  civilities  over,  our  visitor 
launched  forth  into  an  exposition  of  his  one  idea. 
The  poor  fellow  had  set  his  heart  on  an  object  which 
has  been  the  dream  of  many  other  earnest  and  noble 
minds,  and  still  is  dear  to  some  distinguished  English 
Churchmen.     The  unity  of  Christendom  was  his  heart's 


AMONG  THE  LOTOS-EATERS  325 

desire.  But  Brother  Ambrose  was  more  practical  than 
his  Western  fellow-dreamers.  Far  from  being  satisfied 
with  mere  prayers  for  the  gathering  into  one  fold  of 
the  scattered  lambs  of  Christ's  flock,  he  had  elaborated 
a  Machiavellian  plan,  which  he  now  proceeded  to  lay 
before  ns. 

"  Why  wrangle  and  quarrel  ?  "  asked  the  schemer, 
with  his  hand  extended  in  mild  remonstrance.  "  We 
all  strive  for  Truth.  Now,  to  ascertain  Truth  is  the 
easiest  thing  in  the  world.  Let  each  Church  set  forth 
its  tenets  in  a  volume  :  the  Greek  Church  in  one,  the 
Catholic  in  another,  and  the  Protestant  in  a  third. 
Let  these  three  volumes  be  taken  to  Corfu  and  laid 
upon  the  breast  of  the  blessed  relic  of  St.  Spyridion. 
The  volume  which  the  Saint  will  embrace  contains 
the  true  dogma :  that  we  must  all  embrace.  The 
volumes  which  the  Saint  will  reject  contain  the  false 
teaching  :  those  let  us  all  reject." 

At  this  point  our  Argus  made  his  appearance, 
and,  seeing  that  the  mischief  had  been  done,  he 
tactfully  accepted  the  situation.  Having  listened  to 
Brother  Ambrose's  panacea  for  the  thousandth  time, 
he  laughed  out,  and  thus  relieved  us  from  a  somewhat 
strained  position. 

"  It  is  true,"  concluded  the  orator  sadly,  "  that 
there  are  difficulties  in  the  way.  But  it  would  all  be 
well,  were  it  not  for  Antichrist." 

"  For  whom  ? "  queried  I. 

"  That's  Brother  Ambrose's  pet  name  for  the  Pope," 
explained  our  Argus,  and  then  added — 

"That's  all  very  fine.  But  have  you  told  these 
gentlemen  about  my  proposal  ? " 

His  proposal  was  only  that  Brother  Ambrose  and 
the  Pope  should  both  walk  into  a  burning  fiery  furnace. 


326  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

Whichever  of  the  two  (if  either)  came  forth  unscathed, 
would  be  acclaimed  as  the  holder  of  the  true  doctrine. 

At  this  Brother  Ambrose's  countenance  fell ;  but, 
recovering,  he  answered  calmly — 

"I  am  ready  to  go  through  with  it,  if  you  will  send 
me  to  Rome." 

The  sublime  and  the  absurd  had  never  been  pre- 
sented to  me  in  a  more  striking  and  pitiable  combina- 
tion. The  poor  man's  sincerity  was  beyond  doubt, 
and  so  was  the  strength  of  his  faith.  It  is  well  that 
he  could  find  no  one  to  second  his  touching  ineptitude 
by  paying  his  passage  to  the  Eternal  City. 


CHAPTER    XXXIX 

A  TALE  OF  WOE 

Nevertheless,  with  all  due  deference  to  the  splenetic 
diarist  be  it  said,  life  on  Mount  Athos,  though  barren, 
has  its  own  peculiar  and  potent  charm  ;  a  charm  which 
can  only  be  fully  appreciated  after  a  careful  eradication 
from  the  observer's  mind  of  all  those  ideas  of  action 
and  altruistic  devotion,  which  form  so  important  a 
part  in  the  modern  man's  conception  of  the  perfect 
life.  This  preliminary  labour  more  or  less  success- 
fully accomplished,  one  cannot  but  be  profoundly 
impressed  by  the  old-world  romance  which  permeates 
the  place,  "  so  venerable,  so  lovely,  so  unravaged  by 
the  fierce  intellectual  life  of  the  century,  so  serene." 
How  far  truer  is  all  this  of  Athos  than  of  Oxford  !  It 
is  here  that  one  really  sees  the  spirit  of  the  Middle 
Age  walking  abroad  in  the  garb  of  a  thousand  years 
ago.  Art,  thought,  manner,  and  speech  are  genuinely 
mediaeval,  and  so  is  everything  else,  save  cleanliness ; 
for  squalor  appears  no  longer  to  be  considered  an 
indispensable  attribute  of  sanctity. 

The  very  stones  "whisper  the  last  enchantments 
of  the  Middle  Age."  Look  wheresoever  you  list, 
your  eye  will  be  met  by  loopholed  walls  and  weather- 
stained  battlements,  here  entire,  there  levelled  to  sup- 
port a  projecting  balcony  of  many  ethereal  storeys, 
by  rusty,  iron-bound  gates,  and  by  grey  towers  rising 
sternly  from   the   corners   of  the  buildings,   or   over- 


3  28  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

looking  the  bays  from  a  rocky  eminence  near  the 
coast.  And  amid  these  grim  monuments  of  war  there 
repose  the  cupolas  and  belfries  of  the  Byzantine 
churches,  crowned  with  the  emblem  of  Him  who 
preached  '*  on  earth  peace,  goodwill  toward  men." 

These  fortifications,  now  mere  picturesque  relics  of 
a  long-dead  past,  played  once  a  serious  and  salutary 
part  in  the  history  of  the  peninsula.  In  the  perilous 
times  of  old  the  monks  were  frequently  called  from 
their  midnight  masses  to  defend  their  walls,  and 
ancient  engravings  depict,  with  a  frank  and  artless 
exaggeration,  the  cassocked  warriors  hurling  huge 
stones  or  pouring  floods  of  molten  pitch  on  Saracen 
pirates,  Arab  invaders,  or  Latin  freebooters.  Yes, 
life  on  Mount  Athos  has  not  always  been  an  alterna- 
tion of  fasting  and  feasting. 

Nor  let  me  be  accused  of  self-contradiction  if  I 
add  that  the  warlike  spirit  is  not  dead,  but  merely 
dormant.  This  is  only  one  of  those  countless  con- 
tradictions of  Eastern  life,  which  a  conscientious 
chronicler  feels  bound  to  record,  even  at  the  risk 
of  his  own  reputation  for  consistency.  The  truth  is 
that  human  life  everywhere,  and  nowhere  more  ob- 
stinately than  in  the  East,  refuses  to  be  packed  into 
a  single  sentence,  however  capacious  its  dimensions, 
or  to  be  labelled  with  one  epithet,  however  compre- 
hensive. I,  therefore,  venture  to  affirm  with  deliberate 
recklessness,  that  beneath  the  cloak  of  modern  apathy 
there  still  lurks  that  active  courage  which  in  the  past 
enabled  Mount  Athos  to  repel  hostile  attack,  and  to 
preserve  unimpaired  through  the  ages  its  position  as 
"  the  sanctuary  of  the  Greek  race." 

In  the  War  of  Independence  the  monks  rose  in 
arms,  deeming  it  their  duty  to  contribute  more  than 


A  TALE  OF  WOE  329 

empty  prayers  to  the  national  cause.  Their  efforts 
and  their  sacrifices  were  vain.  The  Turkish  troops 
overpowered  the  holy  warriors  and  pillaged  the  monas- 
teries of  everything  that  had  not  been  buried  or  con- 
veyed out  of  their  reach.  The  Turkish  Government 
imposed  heavy  burdens  upon  the  monks,  dismantled 
their  towers,  and  carried  away  their  cannon.  Mount 
Athos,  however,  weathered  this  storm,  as  it  had 
weathered  many  another.  At  the  conclusion  of  peace 
between  the  Sultan  and  his  rebellious  Greek  subjects 
the  infidel  troops  evacuated  the  monasteries,  the  monks 
unearthed  their  treasures,  and  speedily  collected  from 
Eastern  Christendom  the  funds  necessary  for  repairing 
the  losses  incurred  through  their  heroic  folly. 

This  disastrous  attempt  had  not  been  dictated  by 
selfish  considerations.  In  bidding  for  the  liberty  of 
the  race  the  monks  really  jeopardised  a  liberty  which 
they  themselves  had  never  ceased  to  enjoy.  The 
privileges  and  immunities  bestowed  on  them  by  their 
Byzantine  founders  and  benefactors  had,  thanks  to  a 
timely  surrender,  been  respected  by  the  Ottoman  con- 
queror. Mount  Athos,  but  for  the  spoliation  of  its 
shrines  by  the  Latin  Crusaders  in  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury, and  their  temporary  occupation  by  the  Turks  in 
the  nineteenth,  has  always  formed  a  semi-autonomous 
federation.  Even  at  the  present  day  it  is  the  portion 
of  the  Ottoman  Empire  upon  which  the  Ottoman  yoke 
presses  least  heavily,  if  we  except  the  highlands  of 
lordless  and  lawless  Albania. 

The  religious  republic  is  governed  by  a  Holy 
Synod,  in  which  are  equally  represented  all  the 
twenty  monasteries.  The  decrees  of  this  deliberative 
assembly  are  carried  out  by  an  executive  body  of  four 
presidents,  elected  by  rotation,  and  the  supreme  con- 


330  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

trol  is  entrusted  to  one  of  them,  similarly  appointed 
and  styled  the  First  (man)  of  Athos.  The  republic 
conducts  its  relations  with  the  Turkish  authorities 
through  the  medium  of  an  agent,  whose  headquarters 
are  at  Salon ica,  and  with  the  Patriarchate  through 
the  medium  of  a  similar  functionary,  who  resides  at 
Constantinople.  Disputes  between  the  various  monas- 
taries  are  settled  by  the  Holy  Synod,  with  the  possi- 
bility of  an  appeal  to  the  Turkish  tribunals  or  to  the 
Patriarchate,  and  order  is  maintained  by  a  score  of 
Christian  highlanders,  of  whom  Panaghiotis  of  the 
flint-lock  is  a  typical  example. 

The  Sultan's  rule  over  the  mountain  is  faintly 
adumbrated  by  a  phantom  Kaimakam,  who  is  forced 
to  lead  a  haremless  existence  among  the  ghostly 
giaours,  attended  by  half-a-dozen  zaptiehs,  who  are 
chiefly  beholden  to  the  monks  for  the  feat  (otherwise 
impossible)  of  keeping  body  and  soul  together.  These 
Turks,  together  with  a  Custom  House  officer  and  the 
payment  of  an  annual  tribute  to  the  Porte,  are  the 
only  bonds  of  connection  between  the  monastic  com- 
monwealth and  the  suzerain.  The  Kaimaham  at  the 
time  of  our  visit  was  an  invisible  nonagenarian  who  slept, 
smoked,  and  had  his  meals  in  one  solitary  room. 

It  is  therefore  seen  that,  so  far  as  the  Turkish 
Government  is  concerned.  Mount  Athos  might  con- 
tinue to  be  the  home  of  serene  and  sterile  rusticity, 
unnoticed  and  unmolested,  except  by  occasional 
tourists  as  ourselves,  and  peacefully  unaware  of  the 
time  of  day.  But  Fate  has  willed  it  otherwise.  In 
the  absence  of  oppression  from  without,  there  is 
within  the  community  itself  ample  cause  for  strife. 
It  is  the  familiar  and  perennial  strife  between  Hel- 
lenism and  Slavism. 


A  TALE  OF  WOE  331 

Out  of  the  twenty  monasteries  seventeen  are 
purely  Greek,  one  Servian,  one  Bulgarian,  and  one 
Russian.  There  is  also  a  small  Roumanian  skete  of 
little  or  no  importance.  The  Servian  convent  (Chi- 
liandari),  so  far  as  its  history  is  known,  was  founded 
or  restored  in  the  twelfth  century  by  two  Servian 
princes,  since  canonised,  and  in  spite  of  the  pre- 
tentions of  the  Bulgarians,  has  always  remained  in 
the  possession  of  the  Serbs.  The  Bulgarians,  as 
their  custom  is,  maintain  that  the  institution  was 
originally  theirs,  basing  their  claims  on  false  etymo- 
logy, and  deriving  its  name  from  a  Bulgarian  word 
which,  if  it  existed,  ought  to  mean  a  "bee-hive." 
But  no  such  word  happens  to  exist.  Now,  whether 
or  not  etymology  deserves  its  definition  as  "  a  science 
in  which  the  vowels  count  for  nothing  and  the  con- 
sonants for  very  little,"  in  a  question  of  the  kind 
it  is  no  match  for  authentic  history,  backed  by  actual 
possession.  But  it  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  state, 
as  a  pure  matter  of  fact,  that  the  only  two  deriva- 
tions of  the  monastery's  name,  which  have  any  claim 
to  plausibility,  are  both  Greek. 

The  Bulgarian  monastery  (Zographou)  is  said  to 
owe  its  origin  to  three  princes  of  that  nationality, 
who  built  it  in  the  ninth  century,  and  it  has  always 
continued  under  the  control  of  the  race  of  its  founders. 
The  Roumanians  are  compelled  to  content  themselves 
with  a  small  skete  founded  some  fifty  years  ago,  and 
already  hallowed  by  a  miracle,  which,  however,  being 
modern,  adds  but  little  to  the  prestige  of  the  establish- 
ment ;  for  wonders  are  like  wine,  inasmuch  as  their 
value  depends  largely  on  their  age. 

None  of  these  non-Greek  foundations  cause  trouble 
to  the  Greeks.     Familiarity  in  the  first  two  instances 


332  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

and  insignificance  in  the  third  breed  indifference,  if 
not  contempt.  It  is  in  the  mammoth  monastery  of 
St.  Panteleemon  that  racial  antagonism  has  its  origin 
and  its  centre.  This  monastery  founded,  according 
to  tradition,  by  a  Serb  in  the  dark  dateless  ages, 
passed  alternately  under  Greek  and  Servian  rule 
until  the  commencement  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
when,  having  by  that  time  fallen  into  utter  decay, 
it  was  restored  from  the  foundations  by  Greek  monks 
and  with  Greek  money.  Since  that  date,  and  for 
some  thirty  years  after,  it  continued  in  the  undis- 
puted possession  of  the  Greeks.  It  was  in  1839 
that  the  Russians,  already  beginning  to  show  some 
symptoms  of  Panslavism,  insinuated  themselves  into 
the  establishment.  The  Greeks  admitted  them  on 
equal  terms  as  members  of  the  same  Church ;  for  the 
Eastern,  any  more  than  the  Western  portion  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  recognises  no  distinctions  of  nation- 
ality. At  first  the  number  of  the  Russian  brethren 
was  by  a  written  agreement  limited  to  one-fourth  of 
the  whole  population.  This  was  the  head  of  the 
camel,  to  be  soon  followed  by  the  rest  of  the  body. 
The  Russians  under  various  pretences  gradually  in- 
creased their  ranks,  till  they  became  twice  as  nume- 
rous as  the  Greeks.  The  camel  was  already  in  full 
possession  of  the  cottage,  to  the  extreme  discomfort 
of  the  cottager,  who  now  at  last,  when  too  late, 
realised  the  folly  of  admitting  the  cumbrous  guest 
into  his  dwelling.  The  Russians  now,  feehng  suflfi- 
ciently  strong,  broke  into  open  rebellion  and  turned 
the  Greeks  out.  Impunity  was  secured  by  a  lavish 
expenditure  of  Russian  gold  on  the  then  Patriarch 
and  Holy  Synod  of  Constantinople.  These  things 
happened   in  the    early   seventies,   a  date   coinciding 


A  TALE  OF  WOE  333 

with  the  heyday  of  Panslavism  and  the  creation  of 
the  Bulgarian  Church  under  the  auspices  of  Count 
Ignatieff. 

The  Russians,  having  succeeded  in  outwitting  the 
witty  Greeks,  did  not  rest  content  with  this  first 
triumph.  The  thirty  years  that  followed  have  wit- 
nessed a  progress  of  the  Slavonic  moveraent  on  Mount 
Athos  by  leaps  and  bounds.  The  Russian  monks, 
daily  reinforced  with  recruits  from  the  Empire  and 
supplied  abundantly  with  funds  by  the  Imperial  Pales- 
tine Society,  and  even,  there  is  good  reason  to  believe, 
by  the  Tsar's  own  Government,  endeavour  by  might 
and  main  to  spread  over  the  whole  of  the  peninsula. 
Already  they  have  acquired  by  treachery  two  humble 
hermitages  and  enlarged  them  into  palatial  sketes, 
equal  in  size  to  first-class  convents.  In  the  second 
of  these,  that  of  St.  Andrew,  commonly  known  as 
the  Serai,  six  months  before  our  visit,  was  inaugurated 
a  magnificent  church,  which  is  said  to  have  cost  about 
^T.  100,000.  The  ceremony  was  graced  by  the  pres- 
ence of  M.  Zinoviefi",  the  Russian  Ambassador,  and  of 
a  Russian  admiral,  attended  by  his  staff,  by  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Moscow,  and  a  great  many  other  Russian 
notabilities. 

All  these  strongholds  of  Russian  influence,  and 
especially  the  monastery  now  called  Russico  par 
excellence,  are  increasing  the  number  of  their  inmates 
at  a  rate  which  can  only  be  conjectured,  as  the  Turkish 
Custom  House  officer  dares  not  ask  for  passports 
from  the  Russian  recruits.  The  supply  of  accommo- 
dation keeps  pace  with  the  demand,  and  already  the 
Holy  Mount  is  dominated  by  the  immense  barrack- 
like buildings,  hospitals,  houses,  and  outhouses  of 
the  Russian  convents,  by  their  gorgeous  green  domes. 


334  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

towering  belfries,  and  all  that  ostentatious  glitter  in 
which  Muscovite  taste  delights.  It  can  easily  be 
imagined  how  unpleasantly  do  these  brand-new  and 
eminently  gaudy  edifices  contrast  with  the  sober 
magnificence  of  the  Byzantine  buildings  described 
above.  Their  green  freshness  stands  out  with  self- 
conscious  contempt  of  the  mellowed  maturity  of 
their  ancient  neighbours,  and  they  irresistibly  sug- 
gest the  picture  of  a  forward  young  woman  flaunting 
her  ill-gotten  finery  before  the  eyes  of  a  venerable 
old  mother.  So  much  for  the  pictorial  and  senti- 
mental side  of  the  movement.  Its  political  aspect 
is  no  less  noteworthy. 

The  Russian  monastery  is  regarded  by  all  un- 
biassed visitors  as  a  political  agency  masquerading 
behind  a  diaphanous  veil  of  religion.  The  Greek 
monks  look  upon  it  as  an  exotic  monster  of  ill  omen, 
and  watch  its  rapid  growth  with  the  gravest  appre- 
hension. Nor  can  any  one,  even  superficially  ac- 
quainted with  the  politics  of  the  Near  East  and 
with  Russia's  attitude  towards  that  part  of  the  world, 
doubt  that  these  forebodings  are  as  well-founded  as 
they  are  gloomy.  Mount  Athos  is  from  every  point 
of  view  a  possession  of  the  first  importance  to  any 
Power  aspiring  to  the  Great  Invalid's  inheritance. 
The  geographical  situation  of  the  peninsula  and 
the  monastic  dependencies  beyond  its  limits  enable 
its  owner  to  wield  an  enormous  influence  over  great 
part  of  Macedonia,  while  its  physical  configuration 
renders  it  an  impregnable  fortress.  When  to  these 
advantages  is  added  the  religious  prestige  which 
accrues  to  the  race  that  rules  over  this  venerable 
sanctuary  of  the  Eastern  Church,  it  needs  no  states- 
man's eye  to  discern  the  motive  of  Russian  activity, 


A  TALE  OF  WOE  335 

and  no  prophet's  tongue  to  predict  its  results,  if  the 
stream  be  not  stemmed  while  there  is  time.  But 
who  is  there  to  stem  the  stream  ? 

The  Greeks  on  Mount  Athos,  although  still  in 
possession  of  by  far  the  larger  portion  of  the  territory, 
are  daily  losing  ground.  Most  of  the  leading  monks 
are  quite  aware  of  the  danger  for  the  future  of  their 
race  with  which  the  movement  is  fraught,  and  it  is 
to  their  infinite  credit  that  they  manfully  struggle 
against  it ;  devoid  of  concentration  within  and  of 
assistance  from  without,  they  dispute  the  soil  inch 
by  inch.  But  the  battle  is  unequal.  Their  rivals, 
commanding  as  they  do  almost  fabulous  means,  hold 
a  powerful  instrument  which  they  full  well  know 
how  to  use.  The  Greek  monks,  being  but  mortal, 
are  not  always  proof  against  the  blandishments  of  the 
Russians  nor,  it  must  be  said,  against  Russian  gold  ; 
and  wealth,  when  wedded  to  wit,  has  often  prevailed 
where  force  has  failed.  Besides,  the  Russians  are  able 
to  bring  pressure  to  bear  upon  them  by  withholding 
the  revenues  of  the  monastic  estates  in  the  Tsar's 
dominions,  an  expedient  tried  more  than  once  already, 
but  not  always  with  the  success  which  one  might  have 
anticipated.  Furthermore,  the  Russian  monks  enjoy 
the  moral  support  of  the  numerous  pilgrims  who 
resort  to  the  Holy  Mount  every  year,  while  there 
are  scarcely  any  Greek  pilgrims,  the  Greeks  having 
outgrown  the  devotional  stage  of  their  development. 
Last,  and  not  least,  the  Russian  monks  act  under  the 
powerful  protection  of  Russian  diplomacy,  which  is 
at  no  pains  to  conceal  its  zeal ;  the  Russian  Consul- 
General  at  Salonica  pays  frequent  and  long  visits  to 
Mount  Athos,  and  his  presence  there  serves  the 
double  purpose   of  encouraging   the    Russian    monks 


336  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA 

and  of  cowing  their  opponents.  Greece  might  pos- 
sibly counteract  to  some  limited  extent  Russian 
ao-sressiveness.  But  for  various  reasons  she  has 
done  little  as  yet.  A  few  days  previous  to  our  arri- 
val the  Greek  Ambassador  at  Constantinople  had 
paid  Mount  Athos  a  flying  visit — the  first  on  record. 
As  a  general  rule,  the  upholders  of  the  Hellenic  cause 
in  that  outpost  of  Hellenism  are  left  to  stand  or  fall 
according  to  the  fortune  of  war  and  their  own  ability, 
an  exhortation  to  "watch  and  pray"  being  the  only 
succour  which  they  succeed  in  obtaining  from  their 
well-wishers.  And  yet,  though  helpless,  the  Greek 
monks  are  not  hopeless.  The  Greek,  like  the  Jew, 
is  deeply  imbued  with  the  belief  in  the  immortality 
of  his  race  and  in  its  divine  mission.  It  is  this 
belief  in  itself  that  has  saved  Hellenism,  as  it  has 
saved  Hebraism  in  the  past,  and  it  is  the  same  belief 
that  sustains  both  in  the  present. 

This  is  the  melancholy  tale  which  we  heard  every 
day  of  our  sojourn  among  the  monks.  But  for  the 
excitement  supplied  by  this  political  warfare  and 
the  inclemency  of  the  weather,  we  might  very  well 
have  succumbed  to  the  somnolent  charm  of  the  Holy 
Mount  and,  like  the  wandering  hero's  comrades,  deter- 
mine to  stay  with  the  Lotos-eaters,  feeding  on  the 
fatal  fruit  in  blissful  oblivion  of  the  world  and  its 
work. 

As  it  was,  we  were  eagerly  looking  for  the  means 
of  departure.  At  the  end  of  the  first  week  we  were 
disappointed,  as  neither  the  Russian  nor  the  Mali- 
sousseh  steamer  durst  approach  the  Athonic  rocks 
owing  to  the  fierceness  of  the  sea.  The  overland 
route  was  declared  by  the  Consular  giant  impassable. 
"  Why,   we   shall  get  up  to    the   waist  in   mud   and 


A  TALE  OF  WOE  337 

remain  stuck  therein  till  the  brigands  come  and  cut 
off  our  heads,"  he  whispered  to  me,  anxious  to  gain 
a  vote.  Nor  was  there  the  slightest  ground  for 
doubting  his  sincerity.  A  proposal  to  attempt  the 
ascent  of  the  peak  was  wrecked  on  the  adamant 
rock  of  monastic  rhetoric,  powerfully  seconded  by 
the  Dragoman's  impressive  despair.  There  was,  there- 
fore, nothing  left  for  us  but  to  make  a  use  of  neces- 
sity and  explore,  through  fair  weather  and  foul,  what 
remained  of  the  accessible  parts  of  Mount  Athos. 
And  this  we  did. 

At  last,  when  seven  more  wet  and  weary  days  had 
elapsed,  the  longed-for  boat  arrived,  the  sun  came  out 
in  all  his  now  useless  magnificence,  and  we  bade  an 
eternal  farewell  to  the  monasteries  and  their  kind, 
simple,  dear  old  anachronisms. 


INDEX 


Aakon,  visit  from,  126  fol. 
Abduction  of  Christian  girls,  171 
Abdul  Hamid,  compared  to   "the 

vivifying   sun,"   33 ;    his   policy, 

256/oL 
Agha,  the  ethics  of  an,  216 
Akindjali,  61 
Albanians,  North,  5,  8,  224 ;  South, 

289 
Alexander  the  Great,  a  Bulgarian, 

278  ;  Palace  of,  290 
Alexandre    Dumas,   as    substitute 

for  a  meal,  268 
Alistrati,  277 
Altin-dere,  48 
Amber-kioi,  48 
Ambrose,  Brother,  324 /oZ, 
Ampelakia,  219 
Anghista,  station  of,  262,  264/oi.y 

river,  288 
Anniversary,  25th,  of  the  Sultan's 

accession,  31/0Z. 
Antichrist,  pet  name  for  the  Pope, 

325 
Antoni,  Mr.,  of  Nigrita,  228/0?. 
Aristotle,  a  Bulgarian,  278 
Athinellis,  the  hospitality  of  Mr., 

fol. 

Bagpipes,  174 
Barbers,  180 
Barter,  230 
Beggars,  27 

Benjamin  of  Tudela,  20 
Bistritza,  the,  1 1 1 
Boats,  primitive,  246 


Breach  of  contract,  Greek  boat- 
man's, 249 ;  Turkish  coachman's, 
285 

Breakfast,  Turkish,  130 

"  Bridge,"  279 

Bridges,  112,  288 

Brigandage,  95,  113,  145,  158,260, 
285 

BuflFaloes,  62,  213,  247 

Bulgarians,  21,  59,  60,  154,  183; 
propaganda,  63,  157,  211  ;  pre- 
tensions, 80,  278,  331 

Bunarbashi,  289 

Cab-drivers,  65 

Cassandra,  312 

Catholicon,  316 

Cattle-lifting,  161,  217,  224 

Cavalcade,  rustic,  10^  fol. 

Ca valla,  283;  old,  291,  294;  new, 
291,  296;  hotel,  293  ;  poets,  299 
fol.  J-  sea-port,  296,  301 

Census,  Turkish,  19,  63 

Chalcidic  Peninsula,  47,  281,  312 

Chef  de  la  Douane^  2  fol. 

Christ,  nationality  of,  155 

Christendom,  unity  of,  324  fol. 

Christian  local  morality,  30;  hu- 
mility, igg  fol. 

Cicerone,  my  Melenik,  136 

Circumcision,  32,  177,  180 

Civis  Eomanus,  57 

Clergy,  secular,  S6fol. 

Commissaries  of  Police,  ^ofol.,  172, 
186 

Consuls,  British,  310 


338 


INDEX 


339 


Correspondence,  peril  attending, 
272  fol. 

Correspondent,  duties  of  a  news- 
paper, 42 

Currency,  231 

Custom-house,  ifol.y  duties,  301 

Dancing,  71.  174  fol.,  221 
Dancing  Dervishes,  37  fol. 
Dante,   as   bakshish,   2  fol. ;   as  an 

article  of  importation,  4 
Daphne,  312 
Baskala,  the,  104 ;  her  hydrophobia, 

III;    valour,    115;     hospitality, 

1 2 1  fol. 
Demir-Hissar,  62,  97  fol. 
Demir-Kapu,  10 
Demoralising  influence  of  Turkish 

rule,  igS  fol.,  241  fol. 
Dhemetri's     recipe    for    "  striking 

terror  and  inspiring  respect,"  265 
Djelal-ud-din-er-roumi,  2^  fol. 
Djoumaya,  63,  120 
Dogs,  Salonica,  27  ;  shepherd's,  43, 

264 
Doiran,  59 
Doxamvos,  249 
Doxatos,  288 
Dragoman,   English,  309  fol.,  312, 

314,317,  337 
Drama,  station,   277  fol.y   society, 

279;  products,  280;  Turks,  281  ; 

innkeeper,  284  fol. 
Dunmehs,  22  fol. 

Eden,  picture  of,  53 

Episcophobia,  8^  fol.,  132 

Escort,  armed,  149,  202 

Evil  eye,  dread  of  the,  254 

Exarch,  99,  227 

Extortion,  95,  147,  159,  161,  210, 

233 

Fatalism,  116 

Fez,  the  price  of  a,  89 /oZ. 

Fording,  lii,  112,  116,  151,  152 


Frank  colony  at  Salonica,  2 1 
Franks,   conquest   of    Salonica  by 
the,  12 

Galatista,  281 

Gallico,  the,  47  ful. 

Gendarmes,  208  fol. 

Ghegs,  5 

Gipsy  musicians,  1 78 ;  wrestlers, 
1 79 ;  camp,  1 86 ;  fortune-telling, 
187  fol.  ;  settlements,  189;  char- 
acter, 189;  women,  190;  trades, 
191  ;  language,  1^2  fol. ;  religion, 
193  ;  and  Agha,  anecdote  of,  189  ; 
song,  191 

Gold-washing,  48 

Great  Britain,  reliance  of  the  Greco- 
Macedonian  peasants  on,  237 

Greco-Turkish  war,  47,  effects  of 
the,  107,  255 

Greek  versatihty,  27 ;  inferiority 
to  the  Turk  in  cleanliness  and 
truthfulness,  28 ;  Anglophilia, 
58 ;  expansiveness,  59 ;  hotel 
waiter,  67 ;  household,  68  fol., 
122  fol.;  patriotic  enthusiasm, 
70 ;  thirst  for  knowledge,  83 ; 
ritual,  1 30  fol. ;  national  irrita- 
bility, 1 56  ;  individualism,  226 ; 
satiric  spirit,  227 ;  horror  of 
expatriation,  298 

Gremia,  281 

Hadji  Beylik,  61 

Hadji    Demir    Bey,    162;     dinner 

with,  163  fol.  ;  adventure  of,  164 ; 

table-talk  of,  166  fol. 
Handkerchiefs,  their  uses,  52 
Hearth,  focus  of  family  life,  122 
Hide  and   seek,  between   revenue 

officers  and  tax-payers,  19 
Hiding  chambers,  138 
Holy  Cross,  feast  of  the  Exaltation 

of,  218  ;  pieces  of  the,  317 

Mount,  309 /oi. 

relics,  317 


340 


INDEX 


Holy  Synod,  317,  329/0^. 

Virgin,  legend  of,  312  .  • 

water,  efficacy  of,  205  fol. 

Horse,  Macedonian,  virtues  of  the, 

"5 

shoeing,  283  fol. 

stealing,  216  fol.,  224 

Icons,  holy,  122,  144,  316 
Idyll,  a  biblical,  251  fol. 
Imaret  of  Cavalla,  301,  303 /o^. 
Italian  hospitality,  54/0/.,  269 /oZ. 

Jebb,  Sir  R.,  on  the  Greeks,  83  ; 
on  the  Fourth  Crusade,  148 

Jews,  their  industry,  19;  multitude 
and  wealth,  20 ;  versatihty,  27  ; 
uncleanliness,  28 ;  way  of  keeping 
the  Sabbath,  34;  fragrance,  75 
fol. ;  bargaining  methods,  SS  fol.  ; 
money-changers,  231  ;  in  the 
wake  of  tax-gatherers,  236 

Kaimakam,   of   Melenik,    132  fol, 
149  fol. ;  Petritz,  158  fol,   161, 
202  fol.  ;  Mount  Athos,  330 

Karyes,  315,  3 17 

Keif,  73 

Khan,  of  Demir-Hissar,  100  fol.  ; 
Melenik,  123/0^.;  Philippi,  289 

Kihndir,  53 

Kiuprulu,  9 

Koniars,  154 

Koula,  112  fol 

Krommydova,  1 1 5 

Kutlumussi,  monastery  of ,  3 1 3,  3 1 5, 

317 

Lake  Butkovo,  61,  98 

Doiran,  59 

Tachino,  242,  246  fol 

Langaza,  plain  of,  210 

Latin   conquest,   bitter    memories 

of,  1 48 /oZ. 
spoliation  of   Mount  Athos, 

329 


Lemnos,  314 

Letter-writers,  professional,  273 

Lialiova,  277 

Macedonian  Committee,  81,  211, 

278 
Maffas,  74 
Manuscripts,  Greek,  142 

Persian  and  Arabic,  308 

Marko  Kralyevich,  legend  of,  109 
Market,  154/0Z. 
Marko va  Scala,  108 
Matrimonial  bargain,  Bulgarian,  174 
Mediterranean,  view  of  the,  290 
Mehemet  Ali,  his  gift  to  Ca valla, 

301 
Melenik,  position,  118  ;  Byzantine 
survivals,  118  fol;  Hellenic 
character,  120  ;  cathedral,  130 
fol;  urban  tone,  135;  ladies, 
135  ;  architecture,  138/0Z.  ;  con- 
quest, 139;  churches,  141  fol 
Melenikiotes,  origin,  119;  pride 
and  poverty,    1 20 ;    hospitality, 

133M 
Menus,  137,  218,  305 
Militarism,  255/0/. 
Mohammed  and  the  cat,  1 70 
Monastic  life,  320  foL  ;  patriotism, 

329 
Monk's,  young,  confession,  319 

Monks,  popular  opinion  of,  16,  85 

Mooadjirs,  216  fol. 

Mooavins,  2^7  fol 

Mount  Athos,  16,  290,  309  fol; 
beauty  of,  322 ;  political  and 
strategical  importance,  334 

Commonwealth  of  :  arrival  at, 

312;  stronghold  of  masculine 
supremacy,  312  ;    capital  of,  315, 

317  ;  reception  at,  315  fol  ;  diet, 

318  ;  charm  of  its  life,  327  fol  ; 
constitution,  319,  329/0/. 

Ipsari,  291 

Khortatch,  16,  35 

Olympus,  17,  31,  312 


INDEX 


341 


Mount  Orvylus,  145 

Pangseum,  248 

Musical  contest,  bi-lingual,  105 

Nasreddin  Khodja,  story  of,  167 
fol. 

Nationality,  a  variable  quantity,  10 

Navy,  Turkish,  attempted  revival 
of,  256  ;  Abdul  Hamid's  distrust 
of,  302 

Nevrokop,  277 

Nicola,  the  pious  valet,  309,  317 

Nigrita,  Hellenic  character  of,  217  ; 
festivals  at,  221  fol.  ;  the  philo- 
sophic grocer  of,  228  fol.  ;  coin- 
age of,  231 

Nigritans,  origin  of,  2 19  ;  character, 
220  ;  progressive  spirit,  225 

Official,  one  honest,  173;  cor- 
ruptibility and  its  cause,  209 ; 
plethora,  its  cause  and  efl'ect,  210; 
idealism,  43  fol. 

Ostrich  eggs,  symbolic  significance 
of,  316 

Panaghia,  feast  of  the,  171  fol. 

Panaghiotis,  the  muleteer,  10^  fol. 

the  highlander,  3 1 3 

Panislamism,  2^6  fol. 

Panslavism,  256,  ^^2  fol. 

Passport,  my,  43/0^.,  276 

Peasants,    patience   of,    148,    201  ; 
hopefulness,     108 ;     Greek    and 
Bulgarian  contrasted,  183;  lack 
of    sense  of   distance,   264  ;   un-  i 
wittingly  misleading,  266  1 

Petritz,  view  of,  153/uZ.  ;  centre  of 
racial  strife,  156  fol.;  fair  at, 
171  fol.;  products,  182  ;  popula- 
tion, 183 

Philip,  King,  98,  288 

Philippi,  river,  ruins  and  remi- 
niscences of,  288 /oZ. 

Philological  hybrids,  287  fol. 


Philology,  a  question  within  the 
sphere  of  practical  politics,  156 

Photis,  Kyr,  his  masterful  style 
and  transcendent  mendacity,  279 

Pillaf,  303 /oi. 

Ploughs,  53,  153 

Poets,  of  Cavalla,  2gg  fol. 

"  Poker,"  279 

Poroy,  61 

Post-offices,  foreign,  256 

Turkish,  274 

Potamos,  the,  115,  145,  151 

Prophecy  fulfilled,  132 

Prossnik,  62 

Provista,  251,  253 

Racial  struggles,  8,  63,  77  fol.,  156 

fol.,  172,  332  fol. 
Ransom,    an    Englishman's,     150; 

average  European's,  158 
Refectories,  319  fol. 
Reforms,  Turkish,  2^7  fol.,  3[i 
Regie,  Ottoman,  65,  280,  300 
Relics,  holy,  317 
Rhodolivos,  248 
Roumanian  propaganda,  21,  77  fol.  ; 

monastery,  331 
Rudeness  the  best  policy,  265 
Russian   explorers,    143;   steamer, 

309/0'./  pilgrim,  story  of  a,  312 

/oZ. ;  monastery,  332  ;  propaganda, 

332  fol. 

Sabetay  Sevi,  23  fol. 

St.  Andrew,  skete  of,  333 

St.  Demetrius,  tomb  of,  14  fol 

St.  George,  Mosque  of,  12 

St.  John  the  Baptist,  fast  of,  66 

St.  Nicholas,  Church  of,  144 

St.  Panteleiimon,  Monastery  of,  332 

St.  Paul,  13,  20,  288,  29\  fol. 

St.  Sophia,  Mosque  of,  30 

St.  Spyridion,  relic  of,  325 

St.  Stephen,  Church  of,  142 

Sale  of  Government  posts,  209  fol. 

Sali,  110  fol.,  208 


342 


INDEX 


Salmanli,  50 

Salonica,  from  Zebevtche  to,  ^fol.j 
monuments  of  the  past,  12  fol.  ; 
history,  1 2  ;  massacre  at,  13; 
mosques,  14  fol.  y  view  of,  16  fol.  y 
bazaar,  18;  population,  19  fol., 
26  fol. ;  Hellenic  character  of, 
21  ;  fires  at,  29 /oZ.,  36 

Sari-Gueul,  51 

Sarmousakli,  277 

Schoolmasters,  Greek,  6g  fol.,  gsfoL, 
97,  99,  195  M'  238 /oL,  244  fol. 

Scotchman  carried  ofi'by  brigands,  42 

Serres  hotel,  65  fol.y  town,  71  ; 
plain  of,  71  fol.y  population, 
75;  Hellenic  predominance,  82; 
bishop  of,  83  fol.y  British  Vice- 
Consul  at,  91  fol. 

Servian  propaganda,  21,  80,  81  fol. ; 
monastery,  331 

Shoes,  the  philosophy  of,  7 ;  and 
rank,  206 

Silk  manufacture,  219/0/. 

Skulls,  as  guardians  against  evil 
spirits  and  crows,  154 

Slavs,  Macedonian,  no,  183;  on 
Mount  Athos,  331  fol. 

Softas,  303 /oZ. 

Solomon  on  "An  angry  counte- 
nance," 265 

Songs:  "The  Six  Nuns,"  152  fol.  ; 
of  rejoicing,  298  ;  Klephtic,  318 

Spirits  of  the  air,  2 1 8 

Stations,  railway,  4  fol,  54 

Statistics,  Turkish,  19 

Stephen  Dushan  131 

Stories :  "  The  Three  Precious 
Stones,"  24  fol. ;  "  Nasreddin 
Khodja,"  167  fol;  "The  Cap- 
tain and  the  Priest,"  205  ;  "  The 
King's  Medicine,"  287 

Struma,  the,  62,  71,  108,  in,  152, 
207,  213,  242 

Strumnitza,  the,  153 

Tachino,  village,  243  ;  lake,  246,  fol. 


Taxes,  146  fol.,  232  fol. ;  assessment 
of,  234/0/. 

Tax-gatherers,  and  their  ways,  232, 
234,  236,  238,  240 

Tchaoush  Monastir,  1 5 

Telegrams,  providential  delay  in 
transmission  of,  210 

Thasiotes,  297  fol. 

Thasopoula,  291 

Thasos,  291,  294,  304 

Theodosius,  the  Emperor,  13,  312 

Theology,  a  question  within  the 
sphere  of  practical  politics,  155 

Thirst  for  knowledge,  excessive, 
2(^4  fol. 

Time,  Turkish,  90 ;  no  object,  93 

Tobacco,  prohibited  article  of 
importation,  4,  65 ;  contraband, 
245,  254,  280;  origin  of  name, 
287 ;  culture,  manipulation  and 
exportation,  296  fol.  y  profit, 
300 

Torture,  a  feature  of  judicial  pro- 
cedure, 160 

Trains,  4,  46,  59 

Transport,  lack  of  means  of,  300 
fol. 

Travel,  uncommercial,  sign  of  rank 
or  madness,  1 50 

Turk,  fear  of  the,  gg  fol.,  102,  199 

Turk  and  Jew,  anecdote  of,  30 

Turkish,  want  of  versatiUty,  27 ; 
cleanliness,  28  ;  truthfulness,  28; 
census,  19,  63  ;  stoicism,  45  ;  at- 
titude towards  the  English,  56; 
piety,  59 ;  mute  meditation,  72 
fol.  ;  sense  of  beauty,  73  ;  resig- 
nation, 74  ;  soldiers,  94  ;  officers, 
94;  injustice,  147;  etiquette,  167, 
307;  sense  of  humour,  169  ;  kind- 
ness to  animals,  170;  oppression, 
igS  fol.y  intellectual  inferiority, 
273;  bigotry,  281;  tolerance, 
281 ;  seamanship,  301  fol. 

USKUB,  8,     2 


INDEX 


343 


Vardar,  the,  5/0Z. 
Vatopedi,  monastery  of,  144 
Vegetarianism,  173 
Velessa,  9 

Vibius,  C,  monument  of,  289 
Virgin,  Blessed,  legend  of,  312 
Voyage  across  Lake   Tachino,  246 
fol. 

Wallachs,  63  ;  origin,  yy  ;  life,  78  ; 

Hellenic  sympathies,  79 
Waliachian  household,  253 /oL   ~f"- 

shepherds,  154,  224,  286 

War  of  Independence,  monks'  part 

in  the,  329 
Whist,  279 


White  Tower,  14,  35,  261 

Women,  social  inferiority,  7,  254 ; 
Melenikiote,  135  ;  Mohammedan, 
153,  183  fol.;  Petritz,  171  fol., 
181;  Nigritan,  221;  Pro  vista, 
254 

Wrestling,  lySfol. 

Xerxes,  march  through  Macedonia, 
47  ;  canal  of,  314 

Zebevtche,  I,  4 

Zeliachova,  277 

Zichna,  277 

Zlatkos,  M.,  his  fate,  113  fol. 


THE   END 


Printed  by  Ballantyne,  Hanson  A'  Co. 
Edinburgh  61^  London 


Hi^^^f: 


January^  1903 


Mr.  Edward   Arnold's 

New  and  Popular  Books. 

Telegrams  :  37  Bedford  Street, 

•  Scholarly,  London.'  Strand,  London. 


JOURNALS    OF     FIELD-MARSHAL 
COUNT    VON    BLUMENTHAL, 

for  1866  and  1870-71. 

Edited  by  Count  ALBRECHT  von  BLUMENTHAL. 

Translated  by  Major  A.  D.  GILLESPIE  ADDISON. 

Demy  8vo.      With  Portrait  and  Maps^  \2S.  6d.  nett. 

These  Journals  of  the  great  Prussian  Field-Marshal  were  written  by 
him  to  serve  as  notes  for  further  memoirs.  Although,  therefore,  they  do 
not  claim  to  be  in  any  way  complete  works,  they  present  so  vivid  and 
interesting  a  picture  of  the  daily  work  and  thought  of  the  famous  Chief 
of  the  Staff  that  they  form  a  valuable  record  of  the  stirring  times  to 
which  they  relate. 

During  the  invasion  of  Bohemia  in  1866,  known  as  the  Seven  Weeks' 
War,  Count  von  Blumenthal  was  with  the  Second  Army  under  the 
Crown  Prince  of  Prussia,  which,  marching  through  the  passes  of  the 
Giant  Mountams,  came  to  the  aid  of  Prince  Frederick  Charles  in  time 
to  win  the  Battle  of  Koniggratz  and  decide  the  fate  of  the  campaign. 
In  1870  Count  von  Blumenthal  was  again  the  Crown  Prince's  Chief  of 
the  Staff  with  the  Third  Army,  which  first  defeated  MacMahon  at  Woerth 
and  then  hunted  him  through  Chalons  to  his  final  destruction  at  Sedan. 
The  account  of  the  march  thence  upon  Paris  illustrates  in  the  most 
striking  manner  the  difference  between  German  and  British  methods  of 

LONDON  :  EDWARD  ARNOLD,  37  BEDFORD  STREET,  STRAND. 


carrying  war  into  the  enemy's  country.  It  also  conveys  an  impressive 
idea  of  the  difificulty,  even  in  the  best  regulated  campaign,  of  estimating 
the  value  of  reports  and  of  keeping  touch  with,  and  issuing  orders  for, 
innumerable  widely  scattered  bodies  of  troops.  During  the  siege  of 
Paris  the  journal  is  dated  from  Villa  les  Ombrages,  Versailles. 

The  diaries  are  full  of  little  characteristic  touches,  which  make  them 
excellent  reading.  They  are  a  story  of  incessant  work  and  endless  in- 
terruptions, of  sudden  changes  in  plans,  many  of  which  meet  with  the 
Chief  of  the  Staffs  entire  disapproval,  of  gnawing  uncertainties  and 
external  and  internal  discomforts.  They  reveal  on  every  page  a 
singularly  able  soldier  and  a  straightforward,  simple-minded  man. 


WITH  MACDONALD  IN  UGANDA. 

By  Major  HERBERT  H.  AUSTIN,  C.M.G.,  D.S.O.,  R.E., 

Fellow  of  the  Royal  Geographical  Society. 

Demy  Svo.      With  numerous  Illustrations  and  a  Map.     15^-.  nelt 

The  completion  of  the  Uganda  Railway  and  the  consequent  opening 
up  of  the  country  to  civilization  have  lent  fresh  interest  to  that  more 
than  ordinarily  fascinating  portion  of  the  Dark  Continent.  It  is 
probably  not  fully  realized  to  what  an  extent,  not  this  result  alone,  but 
the  very  existence  of  Uganda  as  a  part  of  the  British  Empire,  is  due 
to  the  little  band  of  white  men  who,  in  the  face  of  great  natural 
difficulties,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  widespread  and  dangerous  rebeUion, 
accomplished  the  work  of  which  this  volume  is  a  record. 

How  the  exploratory  expedition  sent  out  in  June,  1897,  under  the 
command  of  Major  (now  Colonel)  J.  R.  L.  Macdonald,  R.E.,  was, 
immediately  after  its  arrival,  confronted  with  a  grave  situation  in 
Uganda  is  probably  well  known,  but  so  many  erroneous  impressions 
exist  as  to  the  actual  outbreak  of  hostilities  with  the  mutineers  of  the 
Sudanese  escort  that  it  is  hoped  that  the  account  given  in  this  volume 
of  what  really  took  place,  as  written  down  by  one  who  was  on  the  spot 
at  the  time,  may  tend  to  remove  them. 

The  book  covers  the  whole  period  of  operations  until  March,  1899, 
when  the  author  came  home.  The  story  of  the  long  months  of 
almost  incessant  fighting  which  followed  the  outbreak  of  the  mutiny  is 
naturally  a  complicated  one,  but  it  is  told  with  such  temperate  clearness 
that  its  interest  is  maintained  throughout.  After  the  suppression  of  the 
rising  the  author  commanded  an  exploring  column  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Lake  Rudolf.  Lovers  alike  of  sport  and  of  scenery  will  take  pleasure 
in  his  description  of  his  experiences.  The  book  is  beautifully  illustrated 
from  photographs  taken  during  the  expedition. 


THE   TALE    OF    A    TOUR    IN 
MACEDONIA. 

By  G.  F.  ABBOTT. 
Demy  Zvo.      With  Illustrations  and  a  Map.      14J.  nett. 

Macedonia  is  a  country  not  only  interesting  in  itself,  but  notorious 
for  its  chronic  state  of  political  unrest,  which  at  the  present  moment  is 
more  than  usually  threatening  to  the  peace  of  south-eastern  Europe. 
Hence  the  desirability  of  an  accurate  and  readable  account  of  the 
country  and  its  inhabitants.  The  Tour  described  in  this  book  was 
undertaken  by  Mr.  G.  F.  Abbott,  of  Emmanuel  College,  Cambridge, 
under  the  auspices  of  that  University,  with  a  view  to  the  collection  of 
materials  for  a  work  on  Macedonian  folk-lore,  to  be  issued  shortly  by  the 
University  Press.  The  present  volume  contains  the  author's  impressions 
of  the  country,  and  presents  a  vivid  picture  of  the  social  and  political 
conditions  prevailing  therein  at  the  time  of  the  tour.  Mr.  Abbott, 
whose  '  Songs  of  Modern  Greece,'  published  two  years  ago,  was  very 
favourably  received  both  in  England  and  on  the  Continent,  combines 
well-trained  powers  of  observation  with  a  brilliant  and  very  humorous 
style.  It  is  believed  that  his  book  cannot  fail  to  be  acceptable  alike  to 
the  political  student  and  to  the  general  reader. 


THE  MINOR   MORALIST. 

By  Mrs.  HUGH  BELL, 

Author  of  'Conversational  Openings  and  Endings,'  'The  Arbiter,'  etc. 

Crown  87'<?.,  4.^.  dd.  riett. 

This  is  a  volume  of  Essays  on  the  Art  of  Every-day  Conduct  which 
may  be  particularly  recommended  to  parents  with  growing  children, 
though  it  would  be  hard  for  anyone  to  read  them  ithout  benefit.  The 
author's  outlook  on  the  world  about  her  is  equally  shrewd  and 
sympathetic.  Among  her  subjects  are  the  following,  which  indicate  the 
nature  of  the  book  : — '  On  the  Better  Teaching  of  Manners ;'  '  On 
some  Difficulties  incidental  to  Middle  Age ;'  '  Concerning  the  Relation 
between  Mothers  and  Daughters  ;'  '  On  the  Merits  and  Demerits  of 
Thrift,  and  of  certain  Proverbs  regarding  it  /  and  '  The  Lot  of  the 
Servant.' 


4 

THE   LIFE   OF   FATHER  DOLLING. 

By  the   Rev.    C.   E.    OSBORNE. 

Vicar  of  Seghill,  Northumberland. 

Demy  2>vo.      With  Portrait. 

The  life  of  the  late  Father  Dolling  was  in  many  ways  an  exceedingly 
remarkable  one.  He  is  probably  best  known  to  the  world  in  connection 
with  his  work  at  Landport  in  charge  of  the  Winchester  College  Mission. 
It  was  at  Landport  that  he  was  first  in  a  position  to  give  full  scope  to 
his  ideas,  many  of  them  quite  out  of  the  ordinary  run,  on  the  social  and 
religious  reclamation  of  the  poor  and  outcast.  The  Rev.  C  E.  Osborne 
knew  Father  Dolling  intimately  for  over  twenty  years.  He  was  closely 
interested  in  his  earlier  efforts,  and  for  over  seven  years  was  his  principal 
helper  at  Landport.  He  had  thus  exceptional  opportunities  of  gaining 
an  insight  into  Father  DoUing's  character  and  aims,  and  is,  perhaps, 
in  this  respect,  better  qualified  than  any  other  man  to  undertake  the 
writing  of  the  present  volume. 

At  the  moment  of  his  early  death  last  year  Father  Dolling  was  con- 
templating the  publication  of  an  autobiography.  Those  who  knew  him 
and  loved  the  Irish  raciness  of  his  style  will  more  than  ever  regret  that 
he  did  not  live  to  carry  out  his  intention.  It  is  believed,  however,  that 
Mr.  Osborne  has  succeeded  in  presenting  a  worthy  and  sympathetic 
picture  of  his  friend,  which  will  be  welcomed,  not  only  by  Wykehamists, 
but  by  all  who  desire  to  promote  the  welfare — spiritual,  moral,  and 
physical — of  their  less  fortunate  fellow-men. 


WORDSWORTH. 

By  WALTER  RALEIGH, 

Professor  of  English  Literature  in  the  University  of  Glasgow. 
Author  or  '.Style,'  'Milton,'  etc. 

Crozvn  Svo.      6s. 

This,  the  latest  volume  from  Professor  Raleigh's  pen,  will  be  welcomed 
by  all  who  recognise  the  brilliant  qualities  of  his  study  on  Milton,  with 
which,  in  size  and  scope,  the  present  volume  is  uniform.  The  following 
is  a  summary  of  its  Contents  : — Introduction.  I. — Childhood  and 
Education.  II.  —  The  French  Revolution:  Coleridge.  III. — Poetic 
Diction.  IV. — Nature.  V. — Humanity.  VI. — Illumination.  VII. — 
Conclusion. 


THE   HOUSE  OF  SELEUCUS. 

By  EDWYN  ROBERT  BEVAN, 

Author  of  the  Recently  Published  Translation  of  '  Prometheus  Vinctus." 

Two  Volumes.    Demy%vo.    With  Portraits,  Plates  and  Maps.    T^os.neit. 

This  book  treats  of  a  phase  of  Greek  civilization  of  immense  impor- 
tance, and  yet  singularly  neglected — the  Greco-Macedonian  rule  in  the 
East  after  Alexander  the  Great.  It  deals  with  the  dynasty  which  played 
the  principal  part  in  the  Greek  East — that  founded  by  the  Macedonian 
Seleucus.  There  is  no  modern  book,  even  in  German,  which  makes  a 
special  study  of  the  history  of  the  Seleucid  kingdom. 

The  period  is  of  vital  consequence  in  many  ways  :  (i)  A  great  deal  in 
the  Roman  imperial  system  was  taken  over  from  the  Greek  monarchies, 
and  in  them  many  of  the  elements  of  the  great  European  tradition  took 
shape.  (2)  The  episode  of  Antiochus  Epiphanes  and  the  Jews,  which 
marks  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  our  religion,  belongs  to  Seleucid 
history  also.  (3)  The  Greek  civilization,  which  these  rulers  repre- 
sented, was  identical  in  germ  with  our  own,  and  the  English  who  to-day 
are  the  chief  representatives  of  that  civilization  in  its  contact  with  the 
East  may  look  upon  the  Seleucid  kings  as  their  forerunners. 

It  contains,  besides  two  full-page  portraits  of  Antiochus  III.,  reproduc- 
tions of  the  very  complete  series  of  coins  issued  under  the  Seleucid  dynasty. 

'  It  is  seldom  that  the  critic  welcomes  a  work  of  so  much  ambition  and  achieve- 
ment from  a  new  historian  as  "  The  House  of  Seleucus."  .  .  .  The  first  serious 
attempt  made  in  modern  times  to  treat  the  Seleucid  realm  as  a  whole,  apart 
from  the  other  Macedonian  kingdoms.  The  result  is  astonishingly  successful, 
despite  the  imperfections  of  the  historical  material,  and  lays  all  students  of  the 
Hellenistic  period  under  a  deep  debt  of  gratitude  to  Mr.  Bevan.  ...  As  an 
authority  on  authorities  Mr.  Bevan's  book  will  long  retain  a  very  high  value.' — 
The  Times. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  PERSPECTIVE. 

By  W.  L.  WYLLIE,  A.R.A. 

Super  Royal  /\to.      With  nearly  100  Sketches. 

In  this  volume,  which  will  be  found  particularly  valuable  to  artists, 
the  principles  of  perspective  are  carefully  described  in  the  letter-press, 
and  illustrated  by  sketches  specially  drawn  by  Mr.  Wyllie.  The 
sketches  afford,  at  the  same  time,  admirable  examples  of  the  artist's 
style.  The  greatest  care  will  be  taken  in  their  reproduction,  in  order 
that  their  beauty  may  be  seen  to  the  best  advantage. 


A  DAY  DREAM  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 

By  E.  H.  CLUTTERBUCK. 
Crown  Zvo.     3^.  6^.  nett. 


ERINNA.      A  Tragedy. 

By  J.  GURDON. 
Crown  8vo.     3^.  6d.  nett. 


PORTFOLIO    OF    THE    NATIONAL 
GALLERY  OF  SCOTLAND. 

With  a  Preface  by  His  Grace  the  DUKE  OF  ARGYLL. 

Edition  de  Luxe,  limited  to  350  copies,  containing  Forty  Photogravure 

Reproductions  on  Japanese  Vellum. 

Demy  folio.     ^10   \os. 


RECENTLY  PUBLISHED. 

Third  Impression. 

RECOLLECTIONS     OF     A 
DIPLOMATIST. 

By  the  Right  Hon.  SIR  HORACE  RUMBOLD,  Bart.,  G.C.B., 

G.C.M.G. 

Two  vols.     Demy  8vo.      With  Portrait.     25^.  nett. 


Fourth  Impression. 

RANDOM  REMINISCENCES. 

By  CHARLES  H.  E.  BROOKFIELD. 

Demy  8vo.      With  Portrait.     145-.  nett. 


Second  Impression. 

THE  ENEMIES  OF  ENGLAND. 

By  the  Hon.  GEORGE  PEEL. 
Demy  2,vo.     12s.  6d.  nett. 


THREE    CENTURIES    IN    NORTH 
OXFORDSHIRE. 

By    M.    STURGE    HENDERSON. 
Crown  Zvo.      With  Ilhcstrations  and  a  Map.     55.  nett. 


NEW    NOVELS. 

Crown  %vo.     65'.  each. 


THE   LITTLE  RED  FISH. 

By  PHILIP  LAURENCE  OLIPHANT. 

THE  TEMPLARS. 

By  E.  H.  LACON  WATSON. 

CHANGES  AND  CHANCES. 

By  ANTOINETTE  WEBER. 

THE  TAINT  OF  THE  CITY. 

By  CHARLES  EDDY, 

Author  of  '  Winifred  and  the  Stockbroker.' 


RECENTL  V  PUBLISHED. 

Second  Impression. 

DONNA   DIANA. 

By  RICHARD  BAGOT, 

Author    of    'Casting    of    Nets,'    etc. 

THE   THOUSAND   EUGENIAS,  AND   OTHER 
STORIES. 

By  Mrs.  ALFRED  SIDGWICK, 

Author  of  '  Cynthia's  Way.' 


8 


ARNOLD'S  CITY   SERIES  OF  COMMERCE 
AND   FINANCE. 

Edited  by  F.  HARCOURT  KITCHIN. 

Crown  ^vo.     ^s.  each,  nett. 

Mr.  Edward  Arnold  has  pleasure  in  announcing  that  he  has  made 
arrangements  for  the  issue  of  a  Series  of  Handbooks  on  Commercial 
and  Financial  Subjects,  which  it  is  hoped  will  meet  the  present 
serious  deficiency  in  popular  and  authoritative  books  on  these  important 
matters.  The  series  will  be  under  the  editorship  of  Mr.  F.  Harcourt 
KiTCHiN,  a  well-known  expert  on  life  insurance  and  kindred  subjects. 

The  following  volumes  are  in  preparation,  and  are  intended  to  appear 
shortly  : 

THE  STOCK  EXCHANGE :  Its  Organisation  and 
Management* 

By  G.  D.  INGALL  and  HARTLEY  WITHERS. 

BRITISH    RAILWAYS:    Their   Organisation    and 
Management. 
By  HUGH  MUNRO  ROSS,  B.A.,  late  Exhibitioner  of  Lincoln 
College,  Oxford. 

LIFE  ASSURANCE  COMPANIES :  Their  Organisa. 

tion  and  Management. 
By  F.  HARCOURT  KITCHIN,  B.A.,  late  Scholar  of  Selwyn 
College,  Cambridge. 

SHIPPING  COMPANIES :  Their  Organisation  and 

Management. 
By  BENEDICT    GINSBURG,  LL.D.  Camb.,  one  of  the  Counsel 
of  the  Marine  Department  of  the  Board  of  Trade. 

PUBLIC  COMPANIES  :  Accounts  and  their  Audit. 

By  H.  C.  EMERY. 

Mr.  Emery  is  not  only  a  skilled  accountant,  but  a  solicitor  whose  speciality  is 
Company  Law. 

Volumes  on  The  Prodwce  Markets  and  Exchange,  Lloyd's,  Fire 
and  Accident  Insurance,  Gas  and  "Water  Undertakings,  and 
Municipal  Trading,  are  also  in  contemplation. 


NEW  SERIES  OF    NAVAL  AND    MILITARY 
BIOGRAPHIES. 

Edited  by  Professor  C.  W.  Oman,  Author  of  '  The  Art  of  War  in  the 
Middle  Ages,'  '  The  Peninsular  War,'  etc. 

Large  Crown  "^vo.     is.  6d.  each. 


The  following  volumes  have  already  appeared  : 

MY  ADVENTURES  DURING  THE  LATE  WAR: 

A  Narrative  of  Shipwreck,  Captivity,  Escapes  from  French 
Prisons,  and  Sea  Service  in  1804-14. 

By  DONAT  HENCHY  O'BRIEN,  Captain  R.N. 
With  Photogravure  Illustrations  and  Maps. 

'  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  better  book  of  adventure  than  Captain  O'Brien's, 
now  for  the  first  time  reprinted  under  the  auspices  of  Professor  Oman.  Simple  and 
direct  as  a  story  by  Defoe,  it  cariies  the  reader  breathlessly  along,  and  causes  him  one 
regret  only — that  he  cannot  read  it  fast  enough.' — Spectator. 

'  It  is  the  best  book  of  real  adventures  published  this  sezson.'  —  Liverpool  Merctiry. 

'  It  is  most  interesting  from  cover  to  cover,  and  will  make  a  splendid  addition  to 
any  school  library.  .  .  .  We  heartily  recommend  the  book  to  all  our  readers.' — 
School  IVorld. 


ADVENTURES    WITH     THE    CONNAUGHT 
RANGERS,  FROM  1809  TO  1814. 

By  WILLIAM  GRATTAN,  Esq.,  late  Lieutenant  Connaught 

Rangers. 

With  Photogravure  Illustrations,  Plans,  and  Maps. 

'  No  one  interested  in  this  stirring  period  of  our  military  history  should  omit  to  read 
this  well-edited  book,  which  from  beginning  to  end  necessarily  bears  the  mark  of 
actual  experience.' — Field. 

'  He  is  very  well  worth  reading,  and  altogetlier  to  be  enjoyed.' — Guardian. 

'  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  Mr.  Grattan's  book  provides  very  interesting  and 
amusing  reading.' — St.  James's  Gazette. 

'  It  is  a  marvellous  book.' — Military  Mail. 


lO 

ESSEX    HOUSE    PRESS    PUBLICATIONS. 

Mr.  Edward  Arnold  has  much  pleasure  in  caUing  attention  to  the 
fact  that  almost  without  exception  these  interesting  books  have  all  been 
bought  up  and  become  out  of  print  before  publication,  while  one  or  two 
that  have  found  their  way  into  the  sale  rooms  have  commanded  a  high 
premium. 

These  books  are  printed  by  the  Guild  of  Handicraft,  at  Essex 
House,  on  the  hand  presses  used  by  the  late  Mr.  William  Morris  at 
the  Kelmscott  Press.  Members  of  Mr.  Morris's  staff  are  also  re- 
ained  at  the  Essex  House  Press,  and  it  is  the  hope  of  the  Guild  of 
Handicraft  by  this  means  to  continue  in  some  measure  the  tradition  of 
good  printing  and  fine  workmanship  which  William  Morris  revived. 

Subscribers  to  the  complete  series  of  Essex  House  Publications  are 
given  priority  for  any  new  book  issued,  and  the  number  of  subscribers 
is  constantly  increasing.  Intending  subscribers  and  persons  who  desire 
to  receive  announcements  of  the  forthcoming  publications  are  recom- 
mended to  enter  their  names  as  soon  as  possible. 


ORDERS  MAY  NOW  BE  GIVEN  FOR  THE  FOLLOWING  : 

Cicero's    'De  Amieitia'   in   Latin  and  English  (John  Harrington's 

translation,  Elizabethan). 

The  'Parentalia'   of  Sir  Christopher  Wren.     The  Life  and 

Account  of  the  Works  of  the  Great  Architect  by  his  Son.     Containing  a  series 
of  illustrations  of  the  remaining  City  Churches. 

The  Guild  of  Handicraft  Song-Book,    vvith  cuts  and  music  in 

four-page  sheets  at  is.  a  sheet,  to  be  issued  in  sets  of  ten  at  a  time,  or  bound 
up  subsequently  by  arrangement. 

THE  PUBLICATIONS  ALREADY  ISSUED  ARE: 

1.  Benvenuto  Cellini's  Treatises  on  Metal  Work  and  Sculpture. 

By  C.  R.  AsHBEE.     600  copies.     A  few  still  left.     35s.  nett. 

2.  The  Hymn  of  Bardaisan,  the  first  Christian  Poem,  rendered  into 

English  verse  from  the  original  Syriac,  by  F.  Crawford  Burkitt,  of  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge.     250  copies.  [Out  of  print. 

3.  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress.     Edited  from  the  earlier  editions 

by  Janet  E.  Ashbee,  with  a  frontispiece  by  Reginald  Savage.     Vellum 
cover.     750  copies.     30s.  nett. 

4.  The  Church  of  Saint  Mary  Stratford  atte  Bow.    250  copies. 

{Out  of  print. 

5.  Shelley's  Adonais.     Vellum  series.     50  copies.         [Out  of  print. 

6.  Shakespeare's  Poems.    45°  copies.  .  [Out  of  print 


ESSEX    HOUSE    PRESS    PUBL\CAT\ONS—confmued. 

7.  The    Eve    of    St.    Agnes.     By  John    Keats.     Vellum   series. 

125  copies.    £2  2s.  nett.  [Oui  of  print. 

8.  The  CouFtyer  of  Count  Baldesar  Castillo,  divided  into  Foure 

Bookes.     Done  into  Englyshe  by  Thomas  Hoby.     200  copies.     {^Oiit  of  print. 

9.  Gray's  Elegry  written  In  a    Country  Churchyard.     The 

third  of  the  Vellum  Series.      125  copies.  \_Out  of  print. 

xo.  Walt  Whitman's  Hymn  on  the  Death  of  Lincoln.  125  copies. 

\Out  of  print. 

11.  An  Endeavour  towards  the  Teaching:  of  John  Ruskln 

and  William  Morris.    By  c.  R.  Ashbee.    250  copies.       lOtit  of  print. 

12.  John  Woolman's  Journal.     250  copies.  \Out  of  print. 

13.  Erasmus'  Praise  of  Folly.    250  copies.    ^3  3s.      YVeryfetv. 

14-   Penn's  Fruits  of  Solitude.      250  copies.  [Out  of  print. 

15.  Spenser's  Eplthalamion.     150  copies.  [Out  of  print. 

16.  American  Sheaves  and  English  Seed  Corn.     By  C.  R. 

Ashbee.     300  copies.     30s.  nett. 

17.  The  Doings  of  Death,     Folio  Volume  of  Large  Woodcuts.     By 

William  Strang.     140  copies.     £6  6s. 

18.  The  Psalms  of  David  :  In  the  Version  of  the  Anglican 

Prayer-Book,  but  according  to  the  Original  Orthography  and 
Arrangement  of  the  Cranmer  Bible.    Limited  editions  of  10  copies 

vellum  at  ;i^i6  i6s.  nett  (all  sold),  and  250  copies  at  £^  4s.  nett  (very  few  left). 

19.  The  Old  Palace  of  Bromley.     By  Ernest  Godman.     With  an 

Introduction  by  C.  R.  Ashbee.  Limited  to  350  copies,  of  which  200  are 
for  the  use  of  the  Committee  for  the  Survey  of  the  Memorials  of  Greater 
London,  leaving  150  for  sale,     21s.  nett. 

20.  A  Coronation  Masque,  entitled  The  Masque  of  the   Edwards. 

By  C.  R.  Ashbee.  With  a  series  of  pictured  pageants  by  Edith  HAkWOOD. 
Limited  to  3CX3  copies  at  £2,  3s.  There  will  also  be  20  copies  on  vellum, 
coloured  in  water-colours  by  the  artist,  at  ;i{^i2  12s. 

21.  Chaucer's  Flower  and  Leaf.     Vellum  series.     165  copies. 

\^Out  of  print. 

2  2.  Burns'  'Tarn  O'Shanter.'     Vellum  series.      150  copies.     With  a 
hand-coloured  frontispiece  by  William  Strang.  [Oitt  of  print. 

23.  Milton's  Comus.     Vellum  series.     150  copies.          [Out  of  print. 


These  volumes  are  published  on  behalf  of  the  Essex  House  Press  by 
Mr.  Edward  Arnold,  and  can  be  ordered  either  from  him  or  from  any 
Bookseller. 


12 


KING    EDWARD    THE    SEVENTH'S 
PRAYER-BOOK. 

This  will  be  a  sumptuous  edition  of  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer, 
which,  by  gracious  permission  of  His  Majesty,  will  be  entitled  '  King 
Edward  the  Seventh's  Prayer-Book.' 

The  new  Prayer-Book  will  be  hand  printed  at  the  Essex  House  Press, 
and  whilst  conforming  to  the  Authorized  Version  will  rank,  as  a  piece 
of  typography,  with  the  Great  Prayer-Book  of  Edward  VI.  It  is  to  be 
in  new  type  designed  by  Mr.  C.  R.  Ashbee,  with  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  woodcuts,  and  is  to  be  printed  in  red  and  black  on  Batchelor 
hand-made  paper.  There  will  also  probably  be  a  special  binding  of 
green  vellum  with  a  gold  block  design  and  clasps. 

Exceptional  circumstances  connected  with  the  Book  of  Common 
Prayer  render  it  essential  that  this  work,  in  order  to  be  of  historic  value, 
shall  be  issued  with  the  imprint  of  the  King's  printers ;  the  Prayer-Book 
will  therefore  be  published  by  his  Majesty's  printers,  Messrs.  Eyre  and 
Spottiswoode,  acting  under  the  Royal  Letters  Patent,  who  will  superintend 
the  work  of  the  Essex  House  Press. 

Mr.  Edm^ard  Arnold,  publisher  to  the  Essex  House  Press,  is  now 
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NE  W  EDITION. 

A  MEMOIR  OF  ANNE  J.  CLOUGH, 

Principal  of  Newnham  College,  Cambridge. 
By  her  Niece,   BLANCHE    A.    CLOUGH. 

Croivn  Zvo.      With  Portrait,     ds. 

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13 
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'5 
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i6 

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i8 


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19 

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Gurdon,  J.     ERINNA  :  A  Tragedy.     (See  page  6.) 

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BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 

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20 

TRAVEL  AND  SPORT. 

Abbott.     THE  TALE  OF  A  TOUR  IN  MACEDONIA.    (Seepages.) 

Austin.    WITH  MACDONALD  IN  UGANDA.    (See  page  2.) 

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Beynon.     WITH    KELLY   TO   CHITRAL.     By   Lieutenant   W.   G.    L. 

Beynon,  D.S.O.,  3rd  Ghoorkha  Rifles,  Staff  Officer  to  Colonel  Kelly  with  the 

Relief  Force.     With  Maps,  Plans,  and  Illustrations.     Second  Edition.     Demy 

8vo.,  7s.  6d. 
Bisiker.    ACROSS  ICELAND.    By  William  Bisiker,  F.R.G.S.    With 

Illustrations  and  Maps.     Demy  8vo.,  12s.  6d. 
Bradley.      HUNTING   REMINISCENCES    OF    FRANK   GILLARD 

WITH  THE  BELVOIR  HOUNDS,   i860- 1896.      Recorded  and  Illustrated 

by  CuTHBERT  Bradley.     8vo.,  15s. 
Bull.      THE   CRUISE  OF  THE  '  ANTARCTIC  '  TO   THE   SOUTH 

POLAR  REGIONS.     By  H.  J.  Bull,  a  member  of  the  Expedition.     With 

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Adviser  to  the  Siamese  Government.     With  Illustrations  and  Map.     Demy  8vo., 

1 6s. 
Chapman.    WILD   NORWAY.    By  Abel  Chapman,  Author   of  'Wild 

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Colvile.     THE    WORK    OF    THE    NINTH    DIVISION.     By   Major- 

General  Sir  Henry  E.  Colvile,  K.C.M.G.,  C.B,     With  8  Maps.     Second 

Edition.     Demy  8vo.,  los.  6d.  nett. 
FresMeld.      THE    EXPLORATION     OF    THE    CAUCASUS.      By 

Douglas  W.   Freshfield,   F.R.G.S.,  lately  President  of  the  Alpine  Club. 

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with  39  full-page  Photogravures,  can  still  be  obtained,  £2  3^-  nett. 
Gleichen.     WITH  THE  BRITISH   MISSION   TO  MENELIK,   1897. 

By  Count  Gleichen,  Grenadier  Guards,   Intelligence  Officer  to  the  Mission. 

Illustrated,  demy  8vo.,  l6s. 
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Gordon,  K.C.I.E.,   C.B.,   C.S.I.      Formerly    Military   Attache   and   Oriental 

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World,'  etc     Demy  8vo.,  with  full-page  Illustrations,  ids.  6d. 
Grey.     IN  MOORISH  CAPTIVITY.     An  Account  of  the  'Tourmaline' 

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Macdonald.    SOLDIERING  AND  SURVEYING  IN  BRITISH  EAST 

AFRICA.    By  Major  (now  Lt.-Col.)  J.  R.  Macdonald,  R.E.    Fully  Illustrated. 

Demy  8vo.,  l6s. 


21 

McNab.  ON  VELDT  AND  FARM,  IN  CAPE  COLONY,  BECHUANA- 
LAND,  NATAL,  AND  THE  TRANSVAAL.  By  Frances  McNab.  With 
Map.     Second  Edition.     Crown  8vo.,  300  pages,  3s.  6d. 

McNab.  A  RIDE  IN  MOROCCO  AMONG  BELIEVERS  AND 
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8vo.,  15s. 

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Percy.  HIGHLANDS  OF  ASIATIC  TURKEY.  By  Earl  Percy,  M.P. 
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Pike.  THROUGH  THE  SUB-ARCTIC  FOREST.  A  Record  of  a 
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PoUok.  FIFTY  YEARS'  REMINISCENCES  OF  INDIA.  By  Lieut.- 
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Portal.  THE  BRITISH  MISSION  TO  UGANDA.  By  the  late  Sir 
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Smith.     THROUGH  UNKNOWN  AFRICAN  COUNTRIES.      By  A. 

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Webber.  THE  FORESTS  OF  UPPER  INDIA  AND  THEIR 
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Warkworth.  NOTES  FROM  A  DIARY  IN  ASIATIC  TURKEY. 
By  Earl  Percy  (then  Lord  Warkworth).  With  numerous  Photogravures. 
Fcap.  4to.,  2IS.  nett. 


22 

THE  SPORTSMAN'S  LIBRARY. 

Edited  by  the  Right  Hon.  Sir  Herbert  Maxwell,  Bart.,  M.P. 

A  Re-issue,  in  handsome  volumes,  of  certain  rare  and  entertaining  books  on 

Sport,  carefully  selected   by  the  Editor,  and   Illustrated  by  the  best 

Sporting  Artists  of  the  day,  and  with  Reproductions  of  old  Plates. 

Library  Edition,  155.  a  volume.     Large-Paper  Edition,  limited  to  200  copies, 

Two   Guineas  a   volume.     Also   obtainable  in   Sets  only,  in  fine  leather 

bindings.     Prices  on  application. 

Volume  L 

Smith.  THE  LIFE  OF  A  FOX,  AND  THE  DIARY  OF  A  HUNTS- 
MAN. By  Thomas  Smith,  Master  of  the  Hambledon  and  Pytchley  Hounds. 
With  Illustrations  by  the  Author,  and  Coloured  Plates  by  G.  H.  Jalland. 

Volume  II. 

Thornton.  A  SPORTING  TOUR  THROUGH  THE  NORTHERN 
PARTS  OF  ENGLAND  AND  GREAT  PART  OF  THE  HIGHLANDS 
OF  SCOTLAND.  By  Colonel  T.  Thornton,  of  Thornville  Royal,  in 
Yorkshire.  With  the  Original  Illustrations  by  Garrard,  and  other  Illustrations 
and  Coloured  Plates  by  G.  E.  Lodge. 

Volume  III. 

Cosmopolite.  THE  SPORTSMAN  IN  IRELAND.  By  a  Cosmopolite. 
With  Coloured  Plates  and  Black  and  White  Drawings  by  P.  Chenevix  Trench, 
and  reproductions  of  the  original  Illustrations  drawn  by  R.  Allen,  and  engraved 
by  W.  Westall,  A.R.A. 

Volume  IV. 

Berkeley.  REMINISCENCES  OF  A  HUNTSMAN.  By  the  Hon. 
Grantley  F.  Berkeley.  With  a  Coloured  Frontispiece  and  the  original 
Illustrations  by  John  Leech,  and  several  Coloured  Plates  and  other  Illustrations 
by  G.  H.  Jalland. 

Volume  V. 
Scrope.     THE  ART  OF  DEERSTALKING.     By  William    Scrope. 
With  Frontispiece  by  Edwin  Landseer,  and  nine  Photogravure  Plates  of  the 
original  Illustrations. 

Volume  VI. 
Nimrod.    THE  CHASE,  THE  TURF,  AND  THE  ROAD.    By  Nimrod. 
With  a  Photogravure  Portrait  of  the  Author  by  D.  Maclise,  R.A.,  and  with 
Coloured   Photogravure  and   other   Plates   from    the    original    Illustrations   by 
Alken,  and  several  reproductions  of  old  Portraits. 

Volume  VII. 
Scrope.    DAYS  AND  NIGHTS  OF  SALMON  FISHING.    By  William 
Scrope.     With  coloured  Lithographic  and  Photogravure  reproductions  of  the 
original  Plates. 


23 

COUNTRY   HOUSE. 

Brown.  POULTRY-KEEPING  AS  AN  INDUSTRY  FOR  FARMERS 
AND  COTTAGERS.  By  Edward  Brown,  F.L.S.,  Secretary  of  the  National 
Poultry  Organization  Society.     Fourth  Edition.     Crown  4to.,  Illustrated,  63. 

BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 

PLEASURABLE  POULTRY-KEEPING.  Fully  Illustrated.  One  vol., 
crown  8vo.,  cloth,  2s.  6d, 

INDUSTRIAL  POULTRY-KEEPING.   Fully  Illustrated.    New  Edition. 

IS. 

Cunningham.  THE  DRAUGHTS  POCKET  MANUAL.  By  J.  G.  Cun- 
ningham. An  introduction  to  the  Game  in  all  its  branches.  Small  8vo.,  with 
numerous  diagrams,  is.  6d. 

EUiot.  AMATEUR  CLUBS  AND  ACTORS.  Edited  by  W.  G.  Elliot. 
With  numerous  Illustrations  by  C.  M.  Newton.     Large  8vo.,  15s. 

Ellacombe.  IN  A  GLOUCESTERSHIRE  GARDEN.  By  the  Rev. 
H.  N.  Ellacombe,  Vicar  of  Bitton,  and  Honorary  Canon  of  Bristol.  Author 
of  '  Plant  Lore  and  Garden  Craft  of  Shakespeare.'  With  new  Illustrations  by 
Major  E.  B.  Ricketts.     Second  Edition.     Crown  8vo.,  cloth,  6s. 

George.  KING  EDWARD'S  COOKERY  BOOK.  By  Florence  A. 
George,  Teacher  of  Cookery  in  King  Edward's  Schools,  Birmingham.  Crown 
8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

Hole.  A  BOOK  ABOUT  ROSES.  By  the  Very  Rev.  S.  Reynolds 
Hole,  Dean  of  Rochester.  Nineteenth  Edition.  Illustrated  by  H.  G.  Moon  and 
G.  S.  Elgood,  R.I.  Presentation  Edition,  with  Coloured  Plates,  6s.  Popular 
Edition,  3s.  6d. 

Hole.  A  BOOK  ABOUT  THE  GARDEN  AND  THE  GARDENER. 
By  Dean  Hole.     Popular  Edition,  crown  8vo.,  3s.  6d. 

Holt.  FANCY  DRESSES  DESCRIBED.  By  Ardern  Holt.  An 
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About  60  Illustrations  by  Lilian  Young.  Many  of  them  coloured.  One  vol., 
demy  8vo.,  7s.  6d.  nett. 

Holt.     GENTLEMEN'S   FANCY  DRESS  AND   HOW  TO  CHOOSE 

IT.      By  Ardern   Holt.     New  and   Revised   Edition.     With   Illustrations. 
Paper  boards,  2s.  6d.  ;  cloth,  3s.  6d. 

Maxwell.  MEMORIES  OF  THE  MONTHS  (First  and  Second  Series. 
By  the  Right  Hon.  Sir  Herbert  Maxwell,  Bart.,  M.P.  With  Photogravure 
Illustrations.     Large  crown  8vo.,  2  vols,  (sold  separately),  7s.  6d.  each. 

Pigott.  LONDON  BIRDS  AND  OTHER  SKETCHES.  ByT.  DiGBY 
PiGOTT,  C.B.  New  Edition.  Revised  and  Enlarged.  Large  Crown  8vo., 
73.  6d. 


24 


*  WYVERN'S  '  COOKERY  BOOKS. 

Kenney-Herbert.  COMMON-SENSE  COOKERY  :  Based  on  Modern 
English  and  Continental  Principles  Worked  out  in  Detail.  Large  crown  8vo., 
over  500  pages.     7$.  6d. 

BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 

FIFTY  BREAKFASTS  :  containing  a  great  variety  of  New  and  Simple 
Recipes  for  Breakfast  Dishes.     Small  8vo.,  2s.  6d. 

FIFTY  DINNERS.     Small  8vo.,  cloth,  2s.  6d. 

FIFTY  LUNCHES.     Small  8vo.,  cloth,  2s.  6d. 

Shorland.  CYCLING  FOR  HEALTH  AND  PLEASURE.  By 
L.  H.  Porter,  Author  of  'Wheels  and  Wheeling,'  etc.  Revised  and  edited  by 
F.  W.  Shorland,  Amateur  Champion  1892-93-94.  With  numerous  Illustrations, 
small  8vo.,  2s.  6d. 

Smith.  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  LANDED  ESTATE  MANAGE- 
MENT. By  Henry  Herbert  Smith,  Fellow  of  the  Institute  of  Surveyors ; 
Agent  to  the  Marquess  of  Lansdowne,  K.G.,  the  Earl  of  Crewe,  Lord  Methuen, 
etc.     With  Plans  and  Illustrations.     Demy  8vo.,  i6s. 

White.  PLEASURABLE  BEE-KEEPING.  By  C.  N.  White,  Lecturer 
to  the  County  Councils  of  Huntingdon,  Cambridgeshire,  etc.  Fully  illustrated. 
One  vol.,  crown  8vo.,  cloth,  2s.  6d. 


THE    NATIONAL    REVIEW. 

Edited  by  L.  J.  MAXSE. 

Price  Half-a-Crown  net  Monthly. 

The  '  National  Review '  is  the  leading  Unionist  and  Conservative 
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25 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Bell.  CONVERSATIONAL  OPENINGS  AND  ENDINGS.  By  Mrs. 
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Bell.    THE  MINOR  MORALIST.    (Seepages.) 

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Demy  4to.,  handsomely  bound,  One  Guinea  nett. 

Craufurd.  THE  FIELD  TRAINING  OF  A  COMPANY  OF 
INFANTRY.  By  Major  H.  J.  Craufurd,  late  Grenadier  Guards.  Second 
Edition.     Foolscap  8vo.,  23.  6d. 

Fell.  BRITISH  MERCHANT  SEAMEN  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO.  By 
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GREAT  PUBLIC  SCHOOLS.  Eton  —  Harrow  —  Winchester  — 
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Warner.  With  a  Preface  by  Earl  Spencer,  K.G.,  D.C.L.,  Chairman  of  the 
Governors  of  Harrow  School.  And  Contributions  by  Old  Harrovians  and  Harrow 
Masters.  Illustrated  with  a  large  number  of  original  full-page  and  other  Pen- 
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Hartshome.  OLD  ENGLISH  GLASSES.  AnAccount  of  Glass  Drinking- 
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Original  Documents,  etc.  Dedicated  by  special  permission  to  Her  Majesty  the 
Queen.  By  Albert  Hartshorne,  Fellow  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries.  Illus- 
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Fcap.  Svo.,  handsomely  bound,  2s.  6d. 

Wyllie,  W.  L.     PRINCIPLES  OF  PERSPECTIVE.    (See  page  5.) 


ILLUSTRATED    HUMOROUS    BOOKS. 

Ames.     REALLY  AND  TRULY.     By  Mr.  and  Mrs.   Ernest  Ames. 

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events  of  the  nineteenth  century.     4to.,  3s.  6d. 
H.  B.  and  B.   T.   B.      MORE   BEASTS   FOR  WORSE   CHILDREN. 

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clever  verses.     4to.,  with  coloured  cover,  3s.  6d. 

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Illustrated,  3s.  6d. 
THE  MODERN  TRAVELLER.     Fully  Illustrated,  with  coloured  cover. 

4to.,  3s.  6d. 


26 

Lockwood.    THE  FRANK   LOCKWOOD   SKETCH-BOOK.    Being  a 

Selection  of  Sketches  by  the  late  Sir  Frank  Lockwood,  Q.C,  M.P.     Third 
Edition.     Oblong  royal  4to.,  los.  6d. 

Powles.  THE  KHAKI  ALPHABET.  By  L.  D.  Powles.  With  26  full- 
page  Illustrations  by  ToM  Browne.     Foolscap  4to.,  is.  nett. 

Reed.  TAILS  WITH  A  TWIST.  An  Animal  Picture-Book  by  E.  T. 
Reed,  Author  of  '  Pre-Historic  Peeps,'  etc.  With  Verses  by  'A  Belgian 
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29 

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31 


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Merivale,  J.  A. 
Milner,  Viscount 
Montrisor,  F.  F. 
Morgan,  C.  Lloyd 
Mott,  E.  S.      ■ 
Mudge,  G.  P.  ■ 
Munroe,  Kirk  - 
Nash,  Henry   - 
National  Review 

Naval  and  Military  Biographies  9 
Ninurod  •  .  -     22 


31 
27 
28 
28 
24 
27 
16 
18 
16 
18 
16 
26,  27 
28 
14 
27 
26 
28 


16 

16 

26 

28 

8,  26 

23 
21 

14 
16 
16 

14 
8,  29 
16 
29 
26 
26 
24 


O'Brien,  Capt.  A. 

Odysseus 

Oliphant,  P.  L. 

Oman,  C. 

Onyx     • 

Osborne,  Rev.  C.  E. 

Oxenden,  Maud 

Pasley,  Louisa  M.  S. 
Peel,  Hon.  G.  • 
Peel,  Hon.  S.  - 
Pearson,  Karl  - 
Pembrey,  M.  S. 
Percy,  Earl 
Perry,  Prof.  John 
Phillipps,  L.  March 
Phillips,  C.  D.  F. 
Pickering,  Sidney 
Pigott,  T.  Digby 
Pigou,  Very  Rev.  Francis 
Pike,  Warburton 
Pilkington,  E.  M.  S. 
Pinsent,  Ellen  F. 
Podmore,  C.  T. 
Pollok,  Lieut. -Colonel 
Powles,  L.  D.  ■ 
Price,  L.  L. 
Pritchett,  R.  T. 

Quiller  Couch,  A.  T. 

Radford,  Mrs.  C  H. 
Raleigh,  Walter 
Ransome,  Cyril 
Raymond,  Evelyn 
Reed,  E.  T.     - 
Reid,  Arnot     - 
Reynolds,  Rev.  S.  H 
Richmond,  Rev.  Wilfrid 
Roberts,  Morley 
Rochefort,  Henri 
Rodd,  Sir  Rennell 
Roebuck,  Rt.  Hon.  J 
Roy,  Gordon    - 
Rumbold,  Sir  Horace 
Russell,  W.  Clark 
Scrope,  William 
Seton,  Christine 
Shaw,  C.  Weeks 
Shoriand,  F.  W. 
Sidgwick,  Mrs.  A. 
Slatin  Pasha,  Sir  Rudolf 
Smith,  A.  Donaldson 
Smith,  H.  H.  - 
Smith,  Thomas 
Solly,  H.  S.      • 
Spinner,  Alice  • 
Sportsman's  Library 
Streamer,  Col.  D. 
Tatham,  H.  F.  W. 
Taylor,  Isaac   - 
The  Times  Atlas 
Thompson,  Col.  R.  F. 
Thornton,  Col.  T. 
Tollemache,  Hon.  L 
Wallace,  Helen 
Warkworth,  Lord 
Watson,  E.  H.  Lacon 
Weber,  Antoinette 
Webber,  T.  W. 
White,  C.  N.   - 
Wilbraham,  Estra 
Williams,  N.  Wynne 
Wilson,  Ernest 
Wilson,  Theodora 
Wingate.  Sir  F.  R. 
Wyllie,  W.  L. 
Yale    Bicentennial 
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