DEPARTURE FROM REDUTKALE—ATTACK OF CHOLERA—ANAPKA—SUSPICIOUS SHIP—KERTSCH—THE MUSEUM—TUMULI—CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNEY—THEODOSIA (CAFFA)—PRINCE WORONZOFF’S PALACE—THE FORTRESS OF SEWASTOPOL—ODESSA.
On the 17th of September, at 9 in the morning, the steamer arrived, and an hour afterwards I was seated on the deck. The vessel was called Maladetz; it was 140 horse power, and the commandant’s name was Zorin.
The distance from Redutkale to Kertsch is only 420 miles in a straight line, but for us, who continually kept close to the shore, it amounted to nearly 580.
The view of the Caucasus—the hills and headlands—the rich and luxuriant country remains fresh in my memory to this day. In a charming valley lies the village Gallansur, the first station, at which we stopped for a short time.
Towards 6 o’clock in the evening, we reached the fortified town Sahun, which lies partly on the shore, and partly on a broad hill. Here I saw, for the first time, Cossacks in full uniform; all those I had previously seen were very badly dressed, and had no military appearance; they wore loose linen trousers, and long ugly coats, reaching down to their heels. These, however, wore close-fitting spencers with breast-pockets, each of which was divided for eight cartridges, wide trousers, which sat in folds upon the upper part of the body, and dark blue cloth caps, trimmed with fur. They rowed a staff officer to the ship.
18th September. We remained the whole day in Sahun. The coal-boats, from some inconceivable negligence, had not arrived; the coals were taken on board after we had been some time at anchor, and our supply was not completed until 6 o’clock in the evening, when we again started.
19th September. During the night there was much storm and rain. I begged permission to seat myself on the cabin steps, which I received; but, after a few minutes, an order came from the commandant to take me under cover. I was much surprised and pleased at this politeness, but I was soon undeceived when I was led into the large sailors’ cabin. The people smelt horribly of brandy, and some of them had evidently taken too much. I hastened back on to the deck, where, in spite of the raging of the elements, I felt more comfortable than among these well-bred Christians.
In the course of the day we stopped at Bambur, Pizunta, Gagri, Adlar, and other places. Near Bambur I observed majestic groups of rocks.
20th September. The Caucasian mountains were now out of sight, and the thick woods were also succeeded by wide open spaces. We were still troubled with wind, storm, and rain.
The engineer of the ship, an Englishman, Mr. Platt, had accidentally heard of my journey (perhaps from my passport, which I had to give up on entering the ship); he introduced himself to me today, and offered me the use of his cabin during the day-time; he also spoke to one of the officers for me, and succeeded in obtaining a cabin for me, which, although it joined the sailors’ cabin, was separated from it by a door. I was very thankful to both the gentlemen for their kindness, which was the greater, as the preference was given to me, a stranger, over the Russian officers, of whom at least half a dozen were on deck.
We remained a long time at Sissassé. This is an important station; there is a fine fortress upon a hill—round it stand pretty wooden houses.
21st September. This was a terrible night! One of the sailors, who was healthy and well the day before, and had taken his supper with a good appetite, was suddenly attacked with cholera. The cries of the poor fellow disturbed me greatly, and I went upon deck, but the heavy rain and piercing cold were not less terrible. I had nothing but my mantle, which was soon wet through; my teeth chattered; the frost made me shake throughout; so there was nothing to be done but to go below again—to stop my ears, and remain close to the dying man. He was, in spite of all help, a corpse before the end of eight hours. The dead body was landed in the morning, at Bschada; it was packed in a heap of sail-cloth, and kept secret from the travellers. The cabin was thoroughly washed with vinegar, and scoured, and no one else was attacked.
I did not at all wonder that there was sickness on board, only I had expected it would be among the poor soldiers, who were day and night upon the deck, and had no further food than dry, black bread, and had not even mantles or covering; I saw many half-frozen from cold, dripping with rain, gnawing a piece of bread: how much greater suffering must they have to undergo in the winter time! The passage from Redutkale to Kertsch, I was told, then frequently occupied twenty days. The sea is so rough that it is difficult to reach the stations, and sometimes the ship lies for days opposite them. If it should happen that a poor soldier has to proceed the whole distance, it is really a wonder that he should reach the place of his destination alive. According to the Russian system, however, the common man is not worthy of any consideration.
The sailors are indeed better, but, nevertheless, not well provided for; they receive bread and spirits, a very small quantity of meat, and a soup made of sour cabbage, called bartsch, twice a day.
The number of officers, their wives, and soldiers on the deck, increased at every station, very few being landed from the ship.
The deck was soon so covered with furniture, chests, and trunks, that there was scarcely a place to sit down, except on the top of a pile of goods. I never saw such an encampment on board a ship.
In fine weather, this life afforded me much amusement; there was always something new to see; every one was animated and happy, and appeared to belong to the same family; but if a heavy rain came on suddenly, or a wave washed over the deck, the passengers began to shout and cry, and the contents of every chest became public. One cried, “How shall I shelter my sugar-loaves?” another, “Oh, my meal will be spoiled.” There a woman complained that her bonnet would be full of spots; here, another, that the uniform of her husband would certainly be injured.
At some of the smaller stations, we had taken on board sick soldiers, in order to carry them to the hospital at Kertsch. This was done, as I was told, less on account of nursing them than as a measure of safety. The former they would have received at the place they came from; but all the small villages between Redutkale and Anapka are still frequently disturbed by the Circassian-Tartars, who undauntedly break out from the mountains and rob and murder. Very lately they were reported to have fired a cannon at one of the government steamers. The Circassians{320a}are as partial to the Russians as the Chinese are to the English!
The poor invalids were also laid on the deck, and but little attention was shown to them, beyond stretching a sail-cloth over them, to keep the wind partially off; but when it rained heavily, the water ran in on all sides, so that they lay half in the wet.
22nd September. We saw the handsome town and fortress Nowa Russiska, which contains some very pretty private houses, hospitals, barracks, and a fine church. The town and fortress lie upon a hill, and were founded only ten years since.
In the evening, we reached Anapka, which place was taken by the Turks in 1829. Here the finely wooded mountains and hills, and the somewhat desolate steppes{320b}of the Crimea commence.
In the course of the day I had an opportunity of observing the watchfulness and penetration of our commandant. A sailing-vessel was quietly at anchor in a small creek. The commandant, perceiving it, immediately ordered the steamer to stop, ordered out a boat, and sent an officer to see what it was doing there. So far everything had gone correctly; for in Russia, where the limits of every foreign fly is known, what a whole ship is about, must also be seen to. But now comes the comical part of the affair. The officer went near the ship, but did not board it, and did not ask for the ship’s papers, but merely called out to the captain to know what he was about there? The captain answered that contrary winds had compelled him to anchor there, and that he waited for a favourable one to sail to this place and that. This answer satisfied the officer and the commandant completely. To me it seemed just as if any one was asked whether he was an honourable man or a rogue, and then trusted to his honour when he gave himself a good character.
23rd September. Another bad night; nothing but wind and rain. How I pitied the poor, sick fellows, and even those who were well, exposed to this weather on the deck.
Towards noon we arrived at Kertsch; the town can be seen very well from the sea, as it stretches out in a semi-circle on the shore, and rises a little up the hill Mithridates{321}, which lies behind. Higher up the hill is the museum, in the style of a Grecian temple—circular, and surrounded with columns. The summit of the mountain ends in a fine group of rocks, between which stand some obelisks and monuments, which belong to the old burial-place. The country round is a steppe, covered with artificial earth-mounds, which make the graves of a very remote period. Besides the Mithridates, there is no hill or mountain to be seen.
Kertsch lies partly on the spot where Pantikapäum formerly stood. It is now included in the government of Tauria; it is fortified, has a safe harbour, and rather considerable commerce. The population amounts to 12,000. The town contains many fine houses, which are chiefly of modern date; the streets are broad, and furnished with raised pavements for foot passengers. There is much gaiety in the two squares on Sundays and festivals. A market of every possible thing, but especially provisions, is held there. The extraordinary vulgarity and rudeness of the common people struck me greatly; on all sides I heard only abuse, shouting, and cursing. To my astonishment I saw dromedaries yoked to many loaded carts.
The Mithridates is 500 feet high, and beautiful flights of stone steps and winding paths lead up its sides, forming the only walks of the towns’ people. This hill must formerly have been used by the ancients as a burial-place, for everywhere, if the earth is only scraped away, small narrow sarcophagi, consisting of four stone slabs, are found. The view from the top is extensive, but tame; on three sides a treeless steppe, whose monotony is broken only by innumerable tumuli; and on the fourth side, the sea. The sight of that is everywhere fine, and here the more so, as one sea joins another, namely, the Black Sea and the Sea of Asoph.
There was a tolerable number of ships in the roads, but very far short of four or six hundred, as the statements in the newspapers gave out, and as I had hoped to see.
On my return, I visited the Museum, which consists of a single apartment. It contains a few curiosities from the tumuli, but everything handsome and costly that was found was taken to the Museum at St. Petersburgh. The remains of sculptures, bas-reliefs, sarcophagi, and epitaphs are very much decayed. What remains of the statues indicates a high state of art. The most important thing in the Museum is a sarcophagus of white marble, which, although much dilapidated, is still very beautiful. The exterior is full with fine reliefs, especially on one side, where a figure, in the form of an angel, is represented holding two garlands of fruit together over its head. On the lid of the sarcophagus are two figures in a reclining posture. The heads are wanting; but all the other parts, the bodies, their position, and the draping of the garments, are executed in a masterly manner.
Another sarcophagus of wood, shows great perfection in the carving and turning of the wood.
A collection of earthen jars, water jugs and lamps, called to my mind those in the museum at Naples. The jars, burnt and painted brown, have a form similar to those discovered at Herculaneum and Pompeii. The water jugs are furnished with two ears, and are so pointed at the bottom, that they will not stand unless rested against something. This form of vessel is still used in Persia. Among other glass-ware, there were some flasks which consisted almost entirely of long necks, bracelets, rings and necklaces of gold; some small four-cornered embossed sheets, which were worn either on the head or chest, and some crowns, made of laurel wreaths, were very elegant. There were chains and cauldrons in copper, and ugly grotesque faces and ornaments of various kinds, which were probably fixed on the exterior of the houses. I saw some coins which were remarkably well stamped.
I had now to visit the tumuli. I sought long and in vain for a guide: very few strangers come to this place, and there are consequently no regular guides. At last there was nothing left for me but to apply to the Austrian Vice-consul, Herr Nicolits. This gentleman was not only willing to comply with my wish, but was even so obliging as to accompany me himself.
The tumuli are monuments of an entirely peculiar character; they consist of a passage about sixty feet long, fourteen broad, and twenty-five high, and a very small chamber at the end of the passage. The walls of the passage are sloping, like the roof of a house, and contract so much at the top, that at the utmost one foot is left between. They are built of long and very thick stone slabs, which are placed over each other in such a way that the upper row projects about six or seven inches beyond the under one. Upon the opening at the top are placed massive slabs of stone. Looking down from the entrance, the walls appear as if fluted. The room, which is a lengthened quadrangle, is spanned by a small arched roof, and is built in the same manner as the passage. After the sarcophagus was deposited in the room, the whole monument was covered with earth.
The fine marble sarcophagus which is in the Museum, was taken from a tumulus which was situated near the quarantine house, and is considered to be that of King Bentik.
The greater number of the monuments were opened by the Turks; the remainder were uncovered by the Russian government. Many of the bodies were found ornamented with jewels and crowns of leaves, like those in the Museum; an abundance of coins was also found.
The 26th of September was a great festival among the Russians, who celebrated the finding of the cross. The people brought bread, pastry, fruit, etc., to the church, by way of sacrifice. The whole of these things were laid up in one corner. After the service, the priest blessed them, gave some few morsels to the beggars round him, and had the remainder packed into a large basket and sent to his house.
In the afternoon, nearly the whole of the people went to the burial-ground. The common people took provisions with them, which were also blessed by the priests, but were hastily consumed by the owners.
I saw only a few people in the Russian dress. This consists, both for men and women, of long wide blue cloth coats; the men wear low felt hats, with broad brims, and have their hair cut even all round; the women bind small silk kerchiefs round their heads.
Before finishing my account of Kertsch, I must mention that there are naphtha springs in the neighbourhood; but I did not visit them, as they were described to me as precisely similar to those at Tiflis.
The next part of my journey was to Odessa. I could go either by sea or land. The latter was said to present many objects of beauty and interest; but I preferred the former, as I had in the first place no great admiration of the Russian post; and, secondly, I was heartily anxious to turn my back upon the Russian frontiers.
On the 27th of September, at 8 in the morning, I went on board the Russian steamer Dargo, of 100 horse power. The distance from Odessa to Constantinople amounts to 420 miles. The vessel was handsome and very clean, and the fare very moderate. I paid for the second cabin thirteen silver roubles, or twenty florins fifty kreutzers (£2 1s. 4d.) The only thing which did not please me in the Russian steamer, was the too great attention of the steward who, as I was told, pays for his office. All the travellers are compelled to take their meals with him, the poor deck passengers not excepted, who have often to pay him their last kopecs.
About afternoon we came to Feodosia (Caffa), which was formerly the largest and most important town in the Crimea, and was called the second Constantinople. It was at the height of its prosperity about the end of the fifteenth century, under the dominion of Genueser. Its population at that time is said to have been upwards of 200,000. It has now declined to a minor town, with 5,000 inhabitants.
Half-ruined fortification walls and towers of the time of Genueser remain, as well as a fine mosque, which has been turned into a Christian church by the Russians.
The town lies upon a large bay of the Black Sea, on the declivity of barren hills. Pretty gardens between the houses form the only vegetation to be seen.
28th September. We stopped this morning at Jalta, a very small village, containing 500 inhabitants, and a handsome church founded by the Prince Woronzoff. It is built in pure Gothic style, and stands upon a hill outside of the village. The country is again delightful here, and beautiful hills and mountains, partly covered with fine woods, partly rising in steep precipices, extend close to the sea-shore.
The steamer stayed twenty-four hours at Jalta. I took advantage of the time to make an excursion to Alupka, one of the estates of Prince Woronzoff, famous for a castle which is considered one of the curiosities of the Crimea. The road to it passed over low ranges of hills close to the sea through a true natural park, which had here and there been embellished by the help of art. The most elegant castles and country-houses belonging to the Russian nobles are seated between woods and groves, gardens and vineyards, in open spaces on hills and declivities. The whole prospect is so charming, that it appears as if prosperity, happiness, and peace, only reigned here.
The first villa which attracted me was that of Count Leo Potocki. The building is extremely tasteful. The gardens were laid out with art and sumptuousness. The situation is delightful, with an extensive view of the sea and neighbourhood.
A second magnificent building, which, however, is more remarkable for magnitude than beauty of construction, lies near the sea-shore. It resembles an ordinary square house with several stories; and, as I was informed, was built as a country bathing-place of the emperor, but had not yet been made use of. This castle is called Oriander.
Far handsomer than this palace was the charming country-house of Prince Mirzewsky. It is seated on a hill, in the centre of a magnificent park, and affords a delightful view of the mountains and sea. The principal front is Gothic.
The villa of Prince Gallizin is built entirely in the Gothic style. The pointed windows, and two towers of which, decorated with a cross, give to it the appearance of a church, and the beholder involuntarily looks for the town to which this gorgeous building belongs.
This place lies nearly at the extremity of the fine country. From here the trees are replaced by dwarf bushes, and finally by brambles; the velvety-green turf is succeeded by stony ground, and steep rocks rise behind, at the foot of which lie a quantity of fallen fragments.
Even here very pretty seats are to be seen; but they are entirely artificial, and want the charm of nature.
After travelling about thirteen wersti, the road winds round a stony hill, and the castle of Prince Woronzoff comes in sight in its entire extent. The appearance of it is not by any means so fine as I had imagined. The castle is built entirely of stone, of the same colour as the neighbouring rocks. If a large park surrounded the castle, it would stand out more prominently, and the beauty and magnificence of its architecture would be better shown. There is, indeed, a well laid out garden, but it is yet new and not very extensive. The head gardener, Herr Kebach (a German), is a master in his art; he well knows how to manage the naked barren land, so that it will bear not only the ordinary trees, plants, and flowers, but even the choicest exotic plants.
The castle is built in the Gothic style, and is full of towers, pinnacles, and buttresses, such as are seen in similar well preserved buildings of olden time. The principal front is turned towards the sea. Two lions, in Carrara marble, artistically sculptured, lie in comfortable ease at the top of the majestic flight of steps which lead from the castle far down to the sea-shore.
The interior arrangement of the castle reminded me of the “Arabian Nights;” every costly thing from all parts of the world, such as fine woods and choice works of art, is to be seen here in the greatest perfection and splendour. There are state apartments in Oriental, Chinese, Persian, and European styles; and, above all, a garden saloon, which is quite unique, for it not only contains the finest and rarest flowers but even the tallest trees. Palms, with their rich leafy crowns, extend to a great height, climbing plants cover the walls, and on all sides are flowers and blossoms. The most delightful odour diffused itself through the air, cushioned divans stood half-buried under the floating leaves; in fact, everything combined to produce the most magical impression upon the senses.
The owner of this fairy palace was unfortunately absent at a fête on a neighbouring estate. I had letters to him, and should have been glad to have made his acquaintance, as I had heard him spoken of here, both by rich and poor, as a most noble, just and generous man. I was, indeed, persuaded to wait his return, but I could not accept this offer, as I should have had to wait eight days for the arrival of the next steamer, and my time was already very limited.
In the neighbourhood of the castle is a Tartar village, of which there are many in the Crimea. The houses are remarkable for their flat earth roofs, which are more used by the inhabitants than the interior of the huts; as the climate is mild and fine they pass the whole day at their work on the roofs, and at night sleep there. The dress of the men differs somewhat from that of the Russian peasants, the women dress in the Oriental fashion, and have their faces uncovered.
I never saw such admirably planted and clean vineyards as here. The grapes are very sweet, and of a good flavour; the wine light and good, and perfectly suited for making champagne, which indeed is sometimes done. I was told that more than a hundred kinds of grapes are grown in the gardens of Prince Woronzoff.
When I returned to Jalta, I was obliged to wait more than two hours, as the gentlemen with whom I was to go on board had not yet finished their carouse. At last, when they broke up, one of them, an officer of the steamer, was so much intoxicated that he could not walk. Two of his companions and the landlord dragged him to the shore. The jolly-boat of the steamer was indeed there, but the sailors refused to take us, as the jolly-boat was ordered for the captain. We were obliged to hire a boat, for which each had to pay twenty kopecs (8d.) The gentlemen knew that I did not speak Russian but they did not think I partially understood the language. I, however, overheard one of them say to the other “I have no change with me, let us leave the woman to pay.” Upon this the other turned round to me, and said in French, “The share that you have to pay is twenty silver kopecs.” These were gentlemen who made pretensions to honesty and honour.
29th September. Today we stopped at the strong and beautiful fortress Sewastopol. The works are partly situated at the entrance of the harbour, and partly in the harbour itself; they are executed in massive stone, and possess a number of towers and outworks which defend the entrance to the harbour. The harbour itself is almost entirely surrounded by hills, and is one of the safest and most excellent in the world. It can hold the largest fleets, and is so deep that the most gigantic men-of-war can lie at anchor close to the quays. Sluices, docks and quays have been constructed in unlimited splendour and magnificence. The whole of the works were not quite finished, and there was an unparalleled activity apparent. Thousands of men were busy on all sides. Among the workmen I was shown many of the captured Polish nobles who had been sent here as a punishment for their attempt, in 1831, to shake of the Russian yoke.
The works of the fortress and the barracks are so large that they will hold about 30,000 men.
The town itself is modern, and stands upon a range of barren hills. The most attractive among the buildings is the Greek church, as it stands quite alone on a hill, and is built in the style of a Grecian temple. The library is situated on the highest ground. There is also an open-columned hall near the club, with stone steps leading to the sea-shore, which serves as the most convenient passage to the town for those who land here. A Gothic monument to the memory of Captain Cozar, who distinguished himself greatly at the battle of Navarino, and was killed there, does not less excite the curiosity of the traveller. Like the church, it stands alone upon a hill.
The streets here, as in all the new Russian towns, are broad and clean.
30th September. Early in the morning we reached Odessa. The town looks very well from the sea. It stands high; and consequently many of the large and truly fine buildings can be seen at one glance. Among these are the Palace of Prince Woronzoff, the Exchange, the government offices, several large barracks, the quarantine buildings, and many fine private houses. Although the surrounding country is flat and barren, the number of gardens and avenues in the town give it a pleasant appearance. In the harbour was a perfect forest of masts. By far the greater number of ships do not lie here, but in the quarantine harbour. Most of the ships come from the Turkish shore, and are obliged to pass through a quarantine of fourteen days, whether they have illness on board or not.
Odessa, the chief town of the government of Cherson, is, from its situation on the Black Sea, and at the mouth of the Dniester and Dnieper, one of the most important places of commerce in South Russia. It contains 50,000 inhabitants, was founded in 1794, and declared a free port in 1817. A fine citadel entirely commands the harbour.
The Duke of Richelieu contributed most to the advancement of Odessa; for after having made several campaigns against his native country (France) in an emigrant corps, he went to Russia; and in 1803 was made governor-general of Cherson. He filled this post until 1814, during which time he brought the town to its present position. When he was appointed it contained scarcely 5,000 inhabitants. One of the finest streets bears the name of the duke, and several squares are also named in honour of him.
I remained only two days in Odessa. On the third I started by the steamer for Constantinople. I went through the town and suburbs in every direction. The finest part lies towards the sea, especially the boulevard, which is furnished with fine avenues of trees, and offers a delightful promenade; a life-size statue of the Duke Richelieu forms a fine ornament to it. Broad flights of stone steps lead from here down to the sea-shore; and in the background are rows of handsome palaces and houses. The most remarkable among them are the Government House, the Hotel St. Petersburgh, and the Palace of Prince Woronzoff, built in the Italian style, with a tasteful garden adjoining. At the opposite end of the boulevard is the Exchange, also built in the Italian style, and surrounded by a garden. Not far from this is the Academy of Arts, a rather mediocre one-story building. The Theatre, with a fine portico, promises much outside, but is nothing great within. Next to the theatre is the Palais Royal, which consists of a pretty garden, round which are ranged large handsome shops, filled with costly goods. Many articles are also hung out, but the arrangement is not near so tasteful as is the case in Vienna or Hamburgh.
Among the churches the Russian cathedral is the most striking. It has a lofty arched nave and a fine dome. The nave rests upon strong columns covered with brilliant white plaster, which looks like marble. The decorations of the churches with pictures, lamps, and lustres, etc., is rich but not artistic. This was the first church in which I found stoves, and really it was quite necessary that these should be used, the difference of temperature between this place and Jalta was very considerable for the short distance.
A second Russian church stands in the new bazaar; it has a large dome surrounded by four smaller ones, and has a very fine appearance from the exterior; inside it is small and plain.
The Catholic church, not yet quite finished, vies in point of architecture with the Russian cathedral.
The streets are all broad, handsome, and regular, it is almost impossible to lose your way in this town. In every street there are fine large houses, and this is the case even in the most remote parts as well.
In the interior of the town lies the so-called “crown garden,” which is not, indeed, very large or handsome, but still affords some amusement, as great numbers of people assemble here on Sundays, and festivals, and a very good band of music plays here in summer under a tent; in winter the performances take place in a plain room.
The botanic garden, three wersti from the town, has few exotic plants, and is much neglected. The autumn changes, which I again saw here for the first time for some years, made a truly sad impression upon me. I could almost have envied the people who live in hot climates, although the heat is very troublesome.
The German language is understood by almost all but the lowest orders in Odessa.
On leaving the Russian dominions I had as much trouble with the passport regulations as on entering. The passport which was obtained on entering must be changed for another for which two silver roubles are paid. Besides this, the traveller’s name has to be three times printed in the newspaper, so that if he has debts, his creditors may know of his departure. With these delays it takes at least eight days, frequently, however, two or three weeks to get away; it is not, however, necessary to wait for these forms, if the traveller provides security.
The Austrian Consul, Herr Gutenthal, answered for me, and I was thus able to bid adieu to Russia on the 2nd of October. That I did this with a light heart it is not necessary for me to assure my readers.
CONSTANTINOPLE—CHANGES—TWO FIRES—VOYAGE TO GREECE—QUARANTINE AT ÆGINA—A DAY IN ATHENS—CALAMACHI—THE ISTHMUS—PATRAS—CORFU.
Little can be said of the passage from Odessa to Constantinople; we continued out at sea and did not land anywhere. The distance is 420 miles. The ship belonged to the Russian government, it was named Odessa, was of 260 horse power, and was handsome, clean, and neat.
In order that my parting with my dear friends, the Russians, might not be too much regretted, one of them was so good at the end of the passage as to behave in a manner that was far from polite. During the last night which was very mild and warm, I went out of the close cabin on to the deck, and placed myself not far from the compass-box, where I soon began to sleep, wrapt in my mantle. One of the sailors came, and giving me a kick with his foot, told me to leave the place. I thanked him quietly for the delicate way in which he expressed himself, and requesting him to leave me at peace, continued to sleep.
Among the passengers were six English sailors, who had taken a new ship to Odessa, and were returning home. I spoke with them several times, and had soon quite won them. As they perceived that I was without any companion, they asked me if I spoke enough Turkish to be able to get what I wanted from the ship’s people and porters. On my answering that I did, they offered to manage everything for me if I would go on shore with them. I willingly accepted their offer.
As we approached land a customs’ officer came on board to examine our luggage. In order to avoid delay I gave him some money. When we landed I wanted to pay, but the English sailors would not allow it; they said I had paid for the customs’ officer, and it was therefore their time to pay for the boat. I saw that I should only have affronted them if I had pressed them further to receive the money. They settled with the porter for me, and we parted good friends. How different was the behaviour of these English sailors from that of the three well-bred Russian gentlemen at Jalta!
The passage into the Bosphorus, as well as the objects of interest in Constantinople, I have already described in my journey to the Holy Land. I went immediately to my good friend Mrs. Balbiani; but, to my regret, found that she was not in Constantinople; she had given up her hotel. I was recommended to the hotel “Aux Quatre Nations,” kept by Madame Prust. She was a talkative French woman, who was always singing the praises of her housekeeping, servants, cookery, etc., in which, however, none of the travellers agreed with her. She charged forty piasters (8s.), and put down a good round sum in the bill for servants’ fees and such like.
Since my last stay here a handsome new wooden bridge had been erected over the Golden Horn, and the women did not seem to be so thickly veiled as on my first visit to Constantinople. Many of them wore such delicately woven veils that their faces could almost be seen through them: others had only the forehead and chin covered, and left their eyes, nose, and cheeks exposed.
The suburb of Pera looked very desolate. There had been a number of fires, which were increased by two during my stay; they were called “small,” as by the first only a hundred and thirty shops, houses, and cottages, and by the second, only thirty were burned to the ground. They are accustomed to reckon the number destroyed by thousands.
The first fire broke out in the evening as we were seated at table. One of the guests offered to accompany me to see it, as he thought I should be interested by the sight if I had not seen such a one before. The scene of the fire was rather distant from our house, but we had scarcely gone a hundred steps when we found ourselves in a great crowd of people, who all carried paper lanterns,{330a}by which the streets were lighted. Every one was shouting and rushing wildly about; the inhabitants of the houses threw open their windows and inquired of the passers by the extent of the danger, and gazed with anxiety and trembling at the reflection of the flames in the sky. Every now and then sounded the shrill cry of “Guarda!guarda!” (take care) of the people, who carried small fire-engines{330b}and buckets of water on their shoulders, and knocked everything over that was in their way. Mounted and foot soldiers and watchmen rushed about, and Pashas rode down with their attendants to urge the people on in extinguishing the fire, and to render them assistance. Unfortunately almost all these labours are fruitless. The fire takes such hold of the wooden buildings painted with oil colours, and spreads with such incredible rapidity that it is stopped only by open spaces or gardens. One fire often destroys several thousand houses. The unfortunate inhabitants have scarce time to save themselves; those who live some distance off hastily pack their effects together and hold themselves prepared for flight at any moment. It may easily be supposed that thieves are not rare on such occasions, and it too often happens that the few things the poor people have saved are torn away from them in the bustle and confusion.
The second fire broke out in the following night. Every one had retired to sleep, but the fire-watch rushed through the street, knocking with his iron-mounted staff at the doors of the houses and waking the people. I sprang terrified out of bed, ran to the window, and saw in the direction of the fire a faint red light in the sky. In a few hours the noise and redness ceased. They have at last begun to build stone houses, not only in Pera but also in Constantinople.
I left Constantinople on the evening of the 7th of October, by the French steamerScamander, one hundred and sixty-horse power.
The passage from Constantinople to Smyrna, and through the Greek Archipelago is described in my journey to the Holy Land, and I therefore pass on at once to Greece.
I had been told, in Constantinople, that the quarantine was held in the Piræus (six English miles from Athens), and lasted only four days, as the state of health in Turkey was perfectly satisfactory. Instead of this, I learnt on the steamer that it was held at the island of Ægina (sixteen English miles from Piræus), and lasted twelve days, not on account of the plague but of the cholera. For the plague it lasts twenty days.
On the 10th of October we caught sight of the Grecian mainland. Sailing near the coast, we saw on the lofty prominence of a rock twelve large columns, the remains of the Temple of Minerva. Shortly afterwards we came near the hill on which the beautiful Acropolis stands. I gazed for a long time on all that was to be seen; the statues of the Grecian heroes, the history of the country came back to my mind; and I glowed with desire to set my foot on the land which, from my earliest childhood, had appeared to me, after Rome and Jerusalem, as the most interesting in the earth. How anxiously I sought for the new town of Athens—it stands upon the same spot as the old and famous one. Unfortunately, I did not see it, as it was hidden from us by a hill. We turned into the Piræus, on which a new town has also been built, but only stopped to deliver up our passports, and then sailed to Ægina.
It was already night when we arrived; a boat was quickly put out, and we were conveyed to the quay near the quarantine station. Neither the porters nor servants of this establishment were there to help us, and we were obliged to carry our own baggage to the building, where we were shown into empty rooms. We could not even get a light. I had fortunately a wax taper with me, which I cut into several pieces and gave to my fellow-passengers.
On the following morning I inquired about the regulations of the quarantine—they were very bad and very dear. A small room, quite empty, cost three drachmas (2s. 3d.) a-day; board, five drachmas (3s. 9d.); very small separate portions, sixty or seventy leptas (6d. or 7d.); the attendance, that is, the superintendence of the guardian, two drachmas a-day; the supply of water, fifteen leptas daily; the physician, a drachma; and another drachma on leaving, for which he inspects the whole party, and examines the state of their health. Several other things were to be had at a similar price, and every article of furniture has to be hired.
I cannot understand how it is that the government pays so little attention to institutions which are established for sanitary purposes and which the poor cannot avoid. They must suffer more privation here than at home; they cannot have any hot meals, for the landlord, who is not restricted in his prices, charges five or six times the value. Several artizans who had come by the vessel were put into the same room with a servant-girl. These people had no hot food the twelve days; they lived entirely upon bread, cheese, and dried figs. The girl, after a few days, begged me to let her come into my room, as the people had not behaved properly to her. In what a position the poor girl would have been placed if there had not happened to be a woman among the passengers, or if I had refused to receive her!
Are such arrangements worthy of a public institution? Why are there not a few rooms fitted up at the expense of government for the poor? Why cannot they have a plain hot meal once in the day for a moderate price? The poor surely suffer enough by not being able to earn anything for so long a time, without being deprived of their hard earnings in such a shameful manner!
On the second day the court-yard was opened, and we were permitted to walk about in an inclosed space a hundred and fifty paces wide, on the sea-shore. The view was very beautiful; the whole of the Cyclades lay before us: small, mountainous islands, mostly uninhabited and covered over with woods. Probably they were formerly a part of the mainland, and were separated by some violent convulsion of nature.
On the fourth day our range was extended, we were allowed to walk as far as the hills surrounding the lazaretto under the care of a guard. The remains of a temple stand upon these hills, fragments of a wall, and a very much decayed column. The latter, which consisted of a single piece of stone, was fluted, and, judging from the circumference, had been very high. These ruins are said to be those of the remarkably fine temple of Jupiter.
21st October. This was the day we were set at liberty. We had ordered a small vessel the evening before which was to take us to Athens early in the morning. But my fellow-travellers would insist upon first celebrating their freedom at a tavern, and from this reason it was 11 o’clock before we started. I availed myself of this time to look about the town and its environs. It is very small and contains no handsome buildings. The only remains of antiquity which I found were traces of the floor of a room in Mosaic work of coloured stones. From what I could see of the island of Ægina, it appeared extremely barren and naked, and it does not show any indications of having been once a flourishing seat of art and commerce.
Ægina is a Greek island, about two square miles in extent, it was formerly a separate state, and is said to have received the name of Ægina from the daughter of Æsop. It is supposed that the first money of Greece was coined in this island.
Our passage to the Piræus occupied a long time. There was not a breath of wind, and the sailors were obliged to row; we did not land at our destination until nearly 8 in the evening. We were first visited by the health-officer, who read through the certificates which we brought from the quarantine very leisurely. There was unfortunately nobody among us who was inclined to make it more understandable to him by a few drachmas. Of course we could not neglect going to the police-office; but it was already closed, in consequence of which we dare not leave the town. I went into a large fine-looking coffee-house to look for night quarters. I was conducted to a room in which half of the window-panes were broken. The attendant said this was of no consequence, it was only necessary to close the shutters. In other respects the room looked very well but I had scarcely laid down on the bed when certain animals compelled me to take to flight. I laid down upon the sofa, which was no better. Lastly, I tried an easy chair, in which I passed the night, not in the most agreeable position.
I had already been told in Ægina of the great dirtiness and number of vermin prevalent in the Piræan inns, and had been warned against passing a night there; but what was to be done? for we could not venture to leave the town without permission of the police.
22nd October. The distance of the harbour of the Piræus from Athens is thirteen stadia, or six English miles. The road leads through olive-plantations and between barren hills. The Acropolis remains continually in sight; the town of Athens does not appear till afterwards. I had intended to remain eight days in Athens, in order to see all the monuments and remarkable places of the town and environs leisurely; but I had scarcely got out of the carriage when I heard the news of the breaking out of the Vienna revolution of October.
I had heard of the Paris revolution of the 24th February while in Bombay; that of March in Germany, at Baghdad; and the other political disturbances while at Tebris, Tiflis, and other places. No news had astonished me so much in my whole life as that from Vienna. My comfortable, peace-loving Austrians, and an overthrow of the government! I thought the statement so doubtful, that I could not give full credit to the verbal information of the Resident at Baghdad; he was obliged to show it to me in black and white in the newspaper to convince me. The affair of March so delighted and inspirited me that I felt proud of being an Austrian. The later occurrences of May, however, cooled my enthusiasm; and that of the 6th of October completely filled me with sadness and dejection. No overthrow of a state ever began so promisingly. It would have stood alone in history if the people had gone on in the spirit of the March movement; and then to end in such a way! I was so grieved and upset by the result of the 6th of October, that I lost all enjoyment of everything. Moreover, I knew my friends were in Vienna, and I had heard nothing from them. I should have hastened there immediately if there had been an opportunity of doing so; but I was obliged to wait till the next day, as the steamer did not start till then. I made arrangements to go by it, and then took a cicerone to show me all the objects of interest in the town, more for diversion than pleasure.
My fate had been very unfortunate; twelve days I had patiently endured being shut up in the lazaretto at Ægina, in order to be able to see the classic country, and now I was so anxious to leave it that I had neither rest nor peace.
Athens, the capital of the former State of Attica, is said to have been founded in the year 1300, fourteen hundred years before Christ, by Cecrops, from whom it then took the name of Cecropia, which in after-times was retained only by the castle: under Eriktonius the town was named “Athens.” The original town stood upon a rock in the centre of a plain, which was afterwards covered with buildings; the upper part was called the “Acropolis,” the lower the “Katopolis;” only a part of the fortress, the famous Acropolis, remains on the mountain, where the principal works of art of Athens stand. The principal feature was the temple of Minerva, or the Parthenon; even its ruins excite the astonishment of the world. The building is said to have been 215 feet long, ninety-seven feet broad, and seventy feet high; here stood the statue of Minerva, by Phidias. This masterly work was executed in gold and ivory; its height was forty-six feet, and it is said to have weighed more than 2000 pounds. Fifty-five columns of the entrance to the temple still remain, as well as parts of enormous blocks of marble which rest upon them, and belonged to the arches and roof.
This temple was destroyed by the Persians, and was again restored with greater beauty by Pericles, about 440 years after the birth of Christ.
There are some fine remains of the temples of Minerva and Neptune, and the extent of the amphitheatre can still be seen; there is but little of the theatre of Bacchus remaining.
Outside the Acropolis stands the temple of Theseus and that of Jupiter Olympus; the one on the north, the other on the south side. The former is in the Doric style, and is surrounded by thirty-six fine columns. On themetopeare represented the deeds of Theseus in beautiful reliefs. The interior of the temple is full of fine sculptures, epitaphs, and other works in stone, most of which belong to the other temples, but are collected here. Outside the temple stand several marble seats which have been brought from the neighbouring Areopagus, the former place of assembly for the patricians. Of the Areopagus itself nothing more is to be seen than a chamber cut out of the rock, to which similarly cut steps lead.
Of the temple of Jupiter Olympus so much of the foundation-walls still remain as to show what its size was; there are also sixteen beautiful columns, fifty-eight feet in height. This temple, which was completed by Hadrian, is said to have exceeded in beauty and magnificence all the buildings of Athens. The exterior was decorated by one hundred and twenty fluted columns six feet in diameter and fifty-nine in height. The gold and ivory statue of Jupiter was, like that of Minerva, the production of the masterly hand of Phidias. All the temples and buildings were of pure white marble.
Not far from the Areopagus is the Pnyx, where the free people of Athens met in council. Of this nothing more remains than the rostrum, hewn in the rock, and the seat of the scribe. What feelings agitate the mind when it is remembered what men have stood there and spoke from that spot!
It was with sadness that I examined the cave near here where Socrates was imprisoned and poisoned. Above this memorable grotto stands a plain monument erected in memory of Philopapoe.
The Turks surrounded the Acropolis with a broad wall, in the building of which they made use of many fragments of columns and other remains of the most beautiful temples.
No remnants of antiquity are to be seen in the old town of Athens except the Tower of the Winds, or, as others call it, Diogenes’ Lantern, a small temple in the form of an octagon, covered with fine sculpture; also the monument of Lysicrates. This consists of a pedestal, some columns, and a dome in the Corinthian style.
The chapel Maria Maggiore, is said to have been built by the Venetians, 700 years after Christ. Its greatest peculiarity is that it was the first Christian church in Athens.
The view of the whole country from the Acropolis is also very interesting; there can be seen the Hymetos, the Pentelikon, towards Eleusis, Marathon, Phylæ, and Dekelea, the harbour, the sea, and the course of the Ilissus.
Athens contains a considerable number of houses, most of which are, however, small and unimportant; the beautiful country-houses, on the contrary, surrounded by tasty gardens, have a very agreeable appearance.
The small observatory was built by Baron Sina, the well-known banker in Vienna, who is by birth a Greek.
The royal palace, which is of modern date, is built of brilliant white marble, in the form of a large quadrangle. On two sides, which occupy a large part of the breadth of the wings, under a peristyle, is a kind of small porch which rests upon pillars. The one approach is for the ministers, ambassadors, etc., the other for the royal family. With the exception of these two peristyles, the whole building is very tasteless, and has not the least ornament; the windows are in the ordinary form; and the high large walls appear so naked, bare, and flat, that even the dazzling white of the beautiful marble produces no effect; and it is only on a close approach that it can be seen what a costly material has been employed in the building.
I regretted having seen this palace, especially opposite to the Acropolis, on a spot which has made its works of art as classic as its heroes.
The palace is surrounded by a rather pretty though recently-formed garden. In the front stand a few palms, which have been brought from Syria, but they bear no fruit. The country is otherwise barren and naked.
The marble of which this palace is built, as well as the temples and other buildings on the Acropolis, is obtained from the quarries of the neighbouring mountain, Pentelikon, where the quantity of this beautiful stone is so great that whole towns might be built of it.
It was Sunday, and the weather was very fine,{335}to which I was indebted for seeing all the fashionable world of Athens, and even the Court, in the open promenade. This place is a plain avenue, at the end of which a wooden pavilion is erected. It is not decorated by either lawns or flower-beds. The military bands play every Sunday from five to six. The King rides or drives with his Queen to this place to show himself to the people. This time he came in an open carriage with four horses, and stopped to hear several pieces of music. He was in Greek costume; the Queen wore an ordinary French dress.
The Greek or rather Albanian costume is one of the handsomest there is. The men wear full frocks, made of white perkal, which reach from the hips to the knees, buskins from the knee to the feet, and shoes generally of red leather. A close-fitting vest of coloured silk without arms, over a silk shirt, and over this another close-fitting spencer of fine red, blue, or brown cloth, which is fastened only at the waist by a few buttons or a narrow band, and lays open at the top. The sleeves of the spencer are slit up, and are either left loose or slightly held together by some cords round the wrists; the collar of the shirt is a little turned over. The vest and spencer are tastily ornamented with cords, tassels, spangles and buttons of gold, silver or silk, according to the means of the wearer. The material, colour and ornament of the Zaruchi correspond with those of the spencer and vest. A dagger is generally worn in the girdle, together with a pair of pistols. The head-dress is a red fez, with a blue tassel.
The Greek dress is, as far as I saw, less worn by the women, and even then much of its originality is lost. The principal part of the dress consists of a French garment, which is open at the breast, over this a close spencer is drawn on, which is also open, and the sleeves wide and rather shorter than those of the gown. The front edges of the gown and spencer are trimmed with gold lace. The women and girls wear on their head a very small fez, which is bound round with rose or other coloured crape.
24th October. I left Athens by the small steamerBaron Kübeck, seventy-horse power, and went as far as Calamachi (twenty-eight miles). Here I had to leave the ship and cross the Isthmus, three English miles broad. At Lutrachi we went on board another vessel.
During the passage to Calamachi, which lasts only a few hours, the little town of Megara is seen upon a barren hill.
Nothing is more unpleasant in travelling than changing the conveyance, especially when it is a good one, and you can only lose by doing so. We were in this situation. Herr Leitenberg was one of the best and most attentive of all captains that I had ever met with in my travels, and we were all sorry to have to leave him and his ship. Even in Calamachi, where we remained this day and the following, as the ship which was to carry us on from Lutrachi did not arrive, on account of contrary winds, until the 25th, he attended to us with the greatest politeness.
The village of Calamachi offers but little of interest, the few houses have only been erected since the steamers plied, and the tolerably high mountains on which it lies are for the most part barren, or grown over with low brambles. We took several walks on the Isthmus, and ascended minor heights, from whence on one side is seen the gulf of Lepanto, and on the other the Ægean sea. In front of us stood the large mountain, Akrokorinth, rising high above all its companions. Its summit is embellished by a well-preserved fortification, which is called the remains of the Castle of Akrokorinth, and was used by the Turks in the last war as a fortress. The formerly world-famous city of Corinth, after which all the fittings of luxury and sumptuousness in the interior of palaces were named, and which gave the name to a distinct order of architecture, is reduced to a small town with scarcely a thousand inhabitants, and lies at the foot of the mountain, in the midst of fields and vineyards. It owes the whole of its present celebrity to its small dried grapes, called currants.
It is said that no town of Greece had so many beautiful statues of stone and marble as Corinth. It was upon this isthmus, which consists of a narrow ridge of mountains, and is covered with dense fig-groves, in which stood a beautiful temple of Neptune, were held the various Isthmian games.
How greatly a people or a country may degenerate! The Grecian people, at one time the first in the world, are now the furthest behind! I was told by everyone that in Greece it was neither safe to trust myself with a guide nor to wander about alone, as I had done in other countries; indeed, I was warned here in Calamachi not to go too far from the harbour, and to return before the dusk of the evening.
26th October. We did not start from Lutrachi until towards noon, by the steamerHellenos, of one hundred and twenty-horse power.
We anchored for a few hours in the evening near Vostizza, the ancient Ægion, now an unimportant village, at the foot of a mountain.
27th October, Patras. That portion of Greece which I had already seen was neither rich in beauty, well cultivated, nor thickly inhabited. Here were, at least, plains and hills covered with meadows, fields, and vineyards. The town, on the Gulf of Lepanto, was formerly an important place of trade; and before the breaking out of the Greek revolution in 1821, contained 20,000 inhabitants; it has now only 7,000. The town is defended by three fortresses, one of which stands upon a hill, and two at the entrance of the harbour. The town is neither handsome nor clean, and the streets are narrow. The high mountains pleased me better; and their chain can be followed for a considerable distance.
I saw grapes here whose beauty and size induced me to buy some; but I found them so hard, dry, and tasteless, that I did not even venture to give them to a sailor, but threw them into the sea.
28th October. Corfu is the largest of the Ionian Islands, which formerly belonged to Greece, and lie at the entrance to the Adriatic sea. Corfu, the ancient Corcyra, has been subject to England since 1815.
The town of Corfu is situated in a more beautiful and fertile country than Patras, and is far larger. It contains 18,000 inhabitants. Adjoining the town are two romantic peaks of rock, with strong fortified works, upon which stand the telegraph and the lighthouse. Both are surrounded by artificial ditches, with draw-bridges leading across. The immediate environs of the town, as well as the whole island, are rich in delightful groves of olive and orange trees.
The town contains handsome houses and streets, with the exception of the bye-streets, which are remarkably crooked and not very clean. At the entrance of the town stands a large covered stone hall, in which on one side are the stalls of the butchers; on the other, those of the fishermen. In the open space in front are exposed the choicest vegetables and most beautiful fruits. The theatre presents a very pretty appearance; it would seem, from the sculptures upon it, to have been used for a church. The principal square is large and handsome; it is intersected by several avenues, and one side faces the sea. The palace of the English governor stands here; a fine building in the Grecian-Italian style.
The famous and much-visited church of St. Spiridion is but small; it contains many oil-paintings, some are good specimens of the old Italian School. In a small dark chapel at the furthest end of the church lies, in a silver sarcophagus, the body of St. Spiridion, who is held in great veneration by the Ionians. The chapel is always full of devotees who tenderly kiss the sarcophagus.
On the 29th of October we saw the low mountain-country of Dalmatia, and on the 30th I entered Trieste, whence I hastened on to Vienna the day following. I was obliged to pass several days in the greatest anxiety before the town, as it had been taken by storm on the last day of October and was not opened until the 4th of November. It was not until I had seen that all my relations were safe that I was able to return thanks with a grateful heart to the good Providence which, in all my dangers and troubles, had so remarkably protected and preserved me in health and strength. With equal gratitude I remembered those people who had treated me with such kindness, had so disinterestedly received me, and through whose help I had been enabled to overcome the frequent great hardships and difficulties I encountered.
From my readers I hope for a charitable judgment upon my book, which in simple language describes what I have experienced, seen and felt, and makes no higher pretension than that of being sincere and trustworthy.