RUINS OF THE IMPERIAL PALACE.;RUINS OF THE IMPERIAL PALACE.
RUINS OF THE IMPERIAL PALACE.
Nothing more magnificent can be imagined than the view from this height. The wide plain through which we had travelled from the coast lay spread out before us, dotted over its whole surface with mulberry and olive trees—theriver ran rushing in the light among the dense vegetation—far as the eye could reach, lofty mountains, purpled by the distance, shut in the prospect—while, immediately beneath us, Broussa lay mapped out in all its extent, the sober-coloured buildings overshadowed by lofty trees; and the three hundred and eighty mosques of the city scattered in the most picturesque irregularity along the side of the mountains, and on the skirts of the valley. The palace of a Pasha was close beside us, and behind us rose the lofty chain of land which veiled the lordly summit of Mount Olympus; while over all laughed the bluest and the brightest sky that imagination can picture.
Beyond this, and this was of course the result of situation, and in itself independent of other interest, the remains of the Imperial Palace are altogether destitute of attraction; its decay is too far advanced, or rather its destruction is too absolute, to present a single charm to the most determined ruin-hunter in the world.
About a mile higher up the mountain stand the remains of a Roman aqueduct; half a dozen mouldering towers of colossal dimensions rise hoar and gray against the sky, and at their feet rushes along the pellucid water that supplies the fountains of the city. A narrow channel formed of stone, and full to overflowing, guides the course of the stream, which escapesfrom the heart of the mountain at the point where it hems in the gayest and the greenest valley that ever fairy revelled in by moonlight. The channel skirts this valley, until it again passes beneath the living rock, and pours itself into the reservoirs of Broussa—but it is less of the mountain stream, or of the fine old Roman remains, that I desire to speak, than of the lovely glen to which I have just alluded.
This fair spot is the “Sweet Waters” of Broussa; and as we chanced to visit it for the first time on a Turkish Sunday, its effect was considerably heightened. Surrounded by lofty mountains, overtopped by mouldering ruins, shaded by stately trees, and fresh with springing verdure, its aspect was yet further gladdened by groups of happy idlers in their holyday costume, seated on their mats along the margin of the source, or lounging beneath the shade of two rudely constructed coffee-kiosks; one of which, built immediately beside the spring, and resting against the rock whence it issued, was shaded from the north wind by a small but elegant mosque, whose tall minaret was reflected in the clear stream; while the other, erected beneath the shade of two majestic maples, seemed to contend the prize of coolness and comfort with its neighbour. From one ridge of rock an elegant kiosk overhung the valley; while from another a cherry tree, ladenwith fruit, tempted the hand with its clustering riches.
Altogether, I never beheld a more lovely scene; and the last touch of beauty was given by the distant view of a Turkish cemetery, which clomb the side of the mountain, and whose grave-stones were shaded by clumps of the dark, silent cypress, relieved here and there by a stately walnut tree, with its bright leaves dancing in the wind. The groups that were scattered over the valley were eminently picturesque: there was theemployéwith his ill-cut frock-coat and unbecomingfèz—the Emir, with his ample green turban, and his vest and drawers of snowy cotton—the Tatar, clad in crimson, wrought with gold, his waist bound with a leathern belt, and his legs protected by Albanian gaiters—the Ulema, with a white shawl twisted about his brow, and a brass ink-bottle thrust into his girdle—the Turning Dervish, with his high cap of gray felt, and his pelisse of green cloth—the Greek serudjhe, with a black shawl twined round hisfèz, his jacket slung at his back, his gaily-striped vest confined by a shawl about his waist, his full trowsers fastened at the knee, and his legs bare—the Armenian, with his tall calpac and flowing robe—all sitting in groups, smoking their chibouks, sipping their coffee, and drinking huge draughts of the cold rock-water, from goblets of crystal as clearand sparkling as the liquid which they contained.
At the coffee-kiosk of the source, groups were engaged in conversation, without any regard to rank or situation in life. The Turks are perfectly destitute of thatmorguewhich renders European society a constant state of warfare against intrusion. Every individual is “eligible” in Turkey—no one losescastefrom the contact of unprivileged associates—the hour of relaxation puts all men on a level; and the Bey sits down quietly by the caïquejhe, and the Effendi takes his place near the fisherman, as unmoved by the difference of their relative condition, as though they had been born to the same fortune.
There is something beautiful and touching in this utter absence of self-appreciation; and the young noble rises from the mat which he has shared with the old artisan, as uncontaminated by the contact as though he had been partaking the gilded cushions of a Pasha. But, ready as I am to admire this state of things, I am well aware that it could not exist with us; the lower orders of Turkey and the lower orders of Europe are composed of totally different elements. The poor man of the East is intuitively urbane, courteous, and dignified—he is never betrayed into forgetfulness, either of himself or of his neighbour—he never knows, although hewas bred in a hut, that he may not die in a palace—and with this possibility before his eyes, he always acts as though the hour of his metathesis were at hand.
It is probably from this feeling that an Osmanli smiles when he hears a Frank vaunting himself on his high blood; and that he replies tersely and gravely to the boast that “every Turk is born noble.”
No greater proof of the superiority of the working classes of Turkey over those of Europe can be adduced, than the tranquillity of the Empire under a government destitute alike of head, heart, and hand—a government whose hollowness, weakness, and venality, will admit of no argument—whose elements are chicane, treachery, and egotism—and which would be unable to govern any other people upon earth even for a twelvemonth. Perhaps the great secret of this dignified docility is to be found in the high religious feeling which is universal among the Turks, and to which I have made allusion elsewhere. Should my judgment on this point be erroneous, however, it is certain that the character of the mass in Turkey must be moulded by principles and impulses, in themselves both respectable and praiseworthy, to produce so powerful a moral effect.
At the maple-tree kiosk the crowd was greater, for there one of the itinerant Improvvisatori, orEastern story-tellers, was amusing his hearers with a history, which, judging from its length, and the patience with which it was heard to an end, ought to have been exceedingly interesting. But no sound of boisterous merriment arose amid the grave and bearded auditors; once or twice, a low chuckle, and a denser cloud of smoke emitted from the chibouk, gave slight indications of amusement: but that was all; every thing was as quiet, as orderly, and as well-conducted, as though every individual of the party had been under priestly surveillance. On quitting the Valley of the Source, we visited the Tekiè of the Turning Dervishes, with its two fine fountains and its elegant chapel; and then proceeded to one of the public Khans, or Caravanserais, in which are lodged all travelling merchants, and such strangers as have not the opportunity of procuring private houses during their residence in Broussa. The building was inconvenient, ill-built, and confined in size, being a very inefficient substitute for one which was destroyed a few years ago by fire in its immediate vicinity; but its court was adorned with a very handsome fountain richly ornamented, beneath whose projecting roof the inhabitants of the Khan congregate to smoke and converse.
A small erection just within one of the gates of the court attracted my attention, from thecircumstance of its roof being occupied by three eagles; two of them about half fledged, and the other evidently sick. I inquired the meaning of this location, and learnt that the little edifice was appropriated to the use of such wild birds as the hunters and peasants chanced to meet during their rambles among the mountains, and which were suffering either from disease, desertion, or injury. Being carefully transported hither, they are fed, and attended to until they voluntarily take wing, and return to their rocky haunts. The present patients were two eaglets, which had been abandoned in the nest, and a wounded bird, which, without assistance, must have died from starvation. Such a trait of national character is well worthy of mention.
Upon the roof of a mosque about a hundred yards from the house which we occupied, a couple of storks had made their nest, and, at the time of our visit, were carefully tending their young, apparently quite indifferent to all the noise and clamour going on immediately beneath. The Turks repay the confidence thus reposed in them with an almost superstitious reverence for these feathered children of the wilderness; and the destruction of a bird of this species would be sure to draw down upon the aggressor the displeasure, if not the vengeance, of every neighbouring Musselmaun.
I must not omit to mention the covered bridge;a curious Roman remain in the Armenian quarter of the city, forming a street across a rapid torrent, which, falling from the mountain, pours itself into the plain. It is entirely tenanted by silk weavers, and its numerous windows are so patched and built up as to render it extremely picturesque. Its single arch is finely formed, and from a distance it is a very attractive object; but it is rapidly falling to decay.
ROMAN BRIDGE AT BROUSSA.ROMAN BRIDGE AT BROUSSA.
ROMAN BRIDGE AT BROUSSA.
I sketched it from the window of an Armenian house; overlooked in my employment by a sweet young woman, who held upon her knees her dying infant—her first-born son. As the Orientals believe every Frank, whether male or female, to be skilled in the healing art, shenever ceased her prayer, during the whole of my stay under her roof, that I would restore her child to health. I shall never think of the Roman bridge at Broussa but the weeping image of the young Armenian mother will be associated with it in my memory.
Orientalism of Broussa—Costume of the Men—Plain Women—Turbans and Yashmacs—Facility of Ingress to the Mosques—Oulou Jamè—Polite Imam—Eastern Quasimodo—Ascent of the Minaret—The Charshee—Travelling Hyperboles—Silk Bazàr—Silk Merchants’ Khan—Fountains of Broussa—Broussa and Lisbon—The Baths—Wild Flowers—Tzekerghè—Mosque of Sultan Mourad—Madhouse—Court of the Mosque—Singular Fountain—Mausoleum of Sultan Mourad—Golden Gate—Local Legend—The Tomb-house—More Vandalism—Ancient Turban—Comfortable Cemeteries—Subterranean Vault Great Bath—Hot Spring—Baths and Bathers—Miraculous Baths—Armenian Doctress—Situation of Tzekerghè—Storks and Tortoises—Turkish Cheltenham.
Thecity of Broussa is infinitely more oriental in its aspect than Stamboul; scarcely a Frank is to be seen in the streets; no French shops, glittering with gilded timepieces and porcelain tea-services, jar upon your associations; not a Greek woman stirs abroad without flinging a long white veil over her gaudy turban, and concealing her gay coloured dress beneath a ferdijhe; while the Turks themselves almost look like men of another nation.
I do not believe that, excepting in the palace of the Pasha, there are a hundredfèz-wearing Osmanlis in the whole city. Such turbans!mountains of muslin, and volumes of cachemire; Sultan Mahmoud would infallibly faint at the sight of them; worn, as many of them are, falling upon one shoulder, and confined by a string in consequence of their great weight. Such watches! the size, and almost the shape, of oranges—such ample drawers of white cotton, and flowing garments of striped silk, and girdles of shawl! The women, meanwhile, except such as belonged to quite the lower orders, were almost invisible; I scarcely encountered one Turkish woman of condition in my walks, and those who passed in the arabas kept the latticed windows so closely shut, despite the heat, that it was impossible to get a glimpse of them. The men were a much finer race than those of Constantinople; I rarely met a Turk who was not extremely handsome, and much above the middle height; while the few women whom Ididsee were proportionably unattractive.
There is not a greater difference in the mode of wearing the turban by the one sex at Broussa, than in that of wearing the yashmac by the other. In Constantinople it is bound over the mouth, and in most instances over the lower part of the nose, and concealed upon the shoulders by the feridjhe. In Asia, on the contrary, it is simply fastened, in most cases, under the chin, and is flung over the mantle, hanging-down the back like a curtain. In the capital,the yashmac is made of fine thin muslin, through which the painted handkerchief, and the diamond pins that confine it, can be distinctly seen; and arranged with a coquetry perfectly wonderful. At Broussa it is composed of thick cambric, and bound so tightly about the head that it looks like a shroud.
One circumstance particularly struck me at Broussa—I allude to the facility of visiting the mosques. While those of Stamboul are almost a sealed volume to the general traveller, he may purchase ingress to every mosque in Broussa for a few piastres; and well do many of them deserve a visit. That of Oulou Jamè, situated in the heart of the city, is the finest and most spacious of the whole. Its roof is formed by twenty graceful domes, of which the centre one is open to the light, being simply covered with iron net-work. Beneath this dome is placed a fine fountain of white marble, whose capacious outer basin, filled with fine tench, is fed from a lesser one, whence the water is flung into the air, and falls back with a cool monotonous murmur, prolonged and softened by the echoes of the vast edifice. The effect of this stately fountain, the first that I had yet seen within a mosque, was extremely beautiful; its pure pale gleam contrasting powerfully with the deep frescoes of the walls, and the gaudily-coloured prayer-carpets strown at intervals over thematting which covered the pavement. The pulpit, with its heavily screened stair, was of inlaid wood; and the whole building remarkable rather for its fine proportions and elegant fountain than for the richness of its details. The scrolls containing the name of Allah, and those of the four Prophets, were boldly and beautifully executed; and the arched recess at the eastern end of the temple painted with some taste.
THE ROOF OF OULOU JAME FROM THE GARDEN OF THE GREEK CHURCH.Miss Pardoe del.Day & Haghe Lith.rsto the King.THE ROOF OF OULOU JAMÈ FROM THE GARDEN OF THE GREEK CHURCH.Henry Colburn, 13 G.tMarlborough St 1837.
The High Priest was reading from the Koràn when we entered, with his green turban and pelisse deposited on the carpet beside him. His utterance was rapid and monotonous, and accompanied by a short, quick motion of the body extremely disagreeable to the spectator. As we approached close to him, he suddenly discontinued reading, and examined us with the most minute attention; after which he resumed his lecture, and took no further notice of our intrusion. In one corner we passed a man sound asleep—in another, a woman on her knees before the name of Allah in earnest prayer, with the palms of her hands turned upwards. On one carpet an Imam was praying, surrounded by half a dozen youths, apparently students of the medresch attached to the mosque; while on every side parties of True Believers were squatted down before their low reading desks, studying their daily portion of the Koràn.
The Imam who accompanied us in our tour of the mosque was so indulgent as even to allow me to retain my shoes, alleging that they were so light as to be mere slippers, and that consequently it was unnecessary to put them off; and on my expressing a wish to ascend one of the minarets, the keeper was sent for to open the door and accompany me; nor shall I easily forget the object who obeyed the summons.
His brow girt with the turban of sacred green—his distorted body enclosed within a dark wrapping vest of cotton—and his short, crooked legs covered with gaiters of coarse cloth—moved forward a humped and barefooted dwarf with a long gristled beard, whose thin skinny fingers grasped a pole much higher than himself; and who, after eyeing us with attention for a moment with a glance as keen and hungry as that of a wolf, sidled up close to the servant, and growling out “backshich,” with an interrogative accent, began to fumble amid the folds of his garment for the key of the tower; and at length withdrew it with a grin, which made his enormous mouth appear to extend across the whole of his wrinkled and bearded countenance. As I looked at him I thought of Quasimodo—the monster of Nôtre Dame could scarcely have been more frightful!
Having carefully concealed his pole behind apile of carpets, and flung back the narrow door of the minaret, this Turkish Quasimodo led the way up a flight of broken and dangerous stone steps, in perfect darkness, consoling himself for the exertion which we had thus entailed on him by an occasional fiend-like chuckle, when he observed any hesitation or delay on the part of those who followed him; and a low murmured commune with himself, in which the wordbackshichwas peculiarly audible.
The stair terminated at a small door opening on the narrow gallery, whence themuezzincalls The Faithful to prayers. The burst of light on the opening of this door was almost painful; nor is the sensation experienced when standing within the gallery altogether one of comfort. The height is so great, the fence so low, and the gallery itself so narrow, that a feeling of dizziness partially incapacitates the unaccustomed spectator from enjoying to its full extent the glories of the scene that is spread out before him, and which embraces not only the wide plain seen from the ruins of the Imperial Palace, but the whole chain of mountains that hem it in.
After a great deal of stumbling, slipping, and scrambling, we again found ourselves beside the fountain of Oulou Jamè; and, on leaving the mosque, remarked with some surprise that itsminarets are painted in fresco on the outside, to about one-fourth of their height.
Having presented Quasimodo with abackshich, which sent him halting away with a second hideous grin, we proceeded to the Charshee, which is of considerable extent. As it chanced to be Sunday, the stalls usually occupied by Armenian and Greek merchants were closed; but many a Hassan, an Abdallah, and a Soleiman was squatted upon his carpet, with his wares temptingly arranged around him, his long beard falling to his girdle, his chibouk lying on the carpet beside him, and his slippers resting against its edge. Here, a green-turbaned descendant of the Prophet, with half a dozen ells of shawl twisted about his head, dark fiery eyes, and a beard as white as snow, pointed silently as we passed to his embossed silver pistols, his richly-wrought yataghans, and his velvet-sheathed and gilded scimitars. There, a keen-looking Dervish, with his broad flat girdle buckled with a clasp of agate, and his gray cap pulled low upon his forehead, extended towards us one of his neatly-turned ivory perfume-boxes.
While examining his merchandize we might have been inclined to believe that we could purchase of him perpetual youth, and imperishable beauty. He had dyes, and washes, and pastes, and powders—essences, and oils, and incenses, and perfumed woods—amulets, andchaplets, and consecrated bracelets, and holy rings; all set forth with an order and precision worthy of their high qualities. A little further on, a solemn-looking individual presided over a miniature representation of Araby the Blest—Spices were piled around him pyramidically, or confined in crystal vases, according to their nature and costliness: there were sacks of cloves, heaps of mace, piles of ginger, mountains of nutmegs, hampers of allspice, baskets of pepper, faggots of cinnamon, and many others less commonly known. Opposite the spice-merchant was the gay stall of the slipper-maker, with its gaudy glories of purple, crimson, and yellow—its purple for the Jew, its crimson for the Armenian, and its yellow for the Turk. I purchased a pair of slippers of the true Musselmaun colour, for which I paid about twice as much as their value, being a Frank; and we then continued our walk.
Not far from the slipper-merchant, on the platform in front of one of the closed shops, sat a ragged Turk, surrounded by flowers of a pale lilac colour, which emitted a delicious odour. While I was purchasing some, I inquired whence they came, and learnt that they were wild auriculas from Mount Olympus. I paid twice the price demanded for them, and bore them off. How knew I but that the seed might have been sown by Venus herself?
I had been told, previously to my leaving England, and indeed before I had an idea of visiting Turkey, that the stalls of the sweetmeat venders resembled fairy-palaces built of coloured spars; and this too by an individual who had resided a few weeks at Constantinople. I can only say, that with every disposition to do ample justice to all I saw, my own ideas of enchantment are much nearer realization at Grange’s or Farrance’s. The Turks do not understand that nicety of arrangement which produces so much effect in our metropolitan shops; and with the exception of the perfume and silk merchants, and perhaps one or two others, they are singularly slovenly in the disposition of their merchandize.
The sweetmeat-venders have a row of glass jars along the front of their stalls, some filled with dried and candied fruits, others with sherbet cakes, and others with different descriptions of coloured and perfumed sugar; while the scented pastes, of which the Orientals are so fond, are cut up into squares with scissors, and spread out upon sheets of paper; or perforated with twine, and hung from the frame-work of the shops like huge sausages. I confess that my imaginings of fairy-land extended considerably beyond this. The merchandize itself, however, is far from contemptible; and we found that of the Charshee of Broussa even more highly perfumed than what we had purchased at Constantinople.
From the Charshee we passed into the silk-bazàr, which was almost entirely closed, three-fourths of the merchants being Armenians; but among those who were at their posts, we selected one magnificent looking Turk, who spread out before us a pile of satin scarfs, used by the ladies of the country for binding up their hair after the bath; the brightest crimson and the deepest orange appeared to be the favourite mixture, and were strongly recommended; but their texture was so extremely coarse, and their price so exorbitant, that we declined becoming purchasers.
On leaving the silk bazàr we proceeded to the silk merchants’ Khan, a solid quadrangular building, having a fine stone fountain in the centre of the paved court, the most respectable establishment of the kind throughout the city, where their number amounts to twenty. Above the great gate, the wrought stone cornice is curiously decorated with a wreath of mosaic, formed of porcelain, as brightly blue as turquoise, which has a very pretty and cheerful effect.
The number of fountains in Broussa must at least double that of the mosques, which amount to three hundred and eighty seven. You scarcely turn the corner of a street thatis not occupied by a fountain, and it is by no means uncommon to have three and even four in sight at the same time, without calculating that all the good houses have each one or more in their courts or gardens; no kiosk being considered complete without its basin and its littlejet d’eau. Yet, notwithstanding this profusion of water, many of the streets are disgustingly dirty, not an effort being made to remove the filth which accumulates from the habit indulged in by the inhabitants of sweeping every thing to the fronts of their houses. Indeed, setting aside the costume and the language, Broussa and its neighbourhood are a second edition of Lisbon; nearly the same dirt, the same bullock-cars, and luggage-mules, and rattle from morning to night within the city; the same blue sky, sparkling water, dense vegetation, bright flowers, and lofty trees without; the golden Tagus of the one being replaced by the magnificent plain of the other.
After having returned home and changed our dress, we mounted our horses, and started to see the Baths. Nothing can be more beautiful than the road which conducts to them. Immediately on passing the gate of the city, you wind round the foot of the mountain, and descend into the village of Mouradiè; having the small mosque of Sultan Mourad on your right, and in front of you, the lofty chain of land along which you areto travel. After traversing the village, you turn abruptly to the left, and by a gentle ascent, climb to about one-third the height of the mountain; having on one hand the nearly perpendicular rock, and on the other a rapid and almost unprotected descent, clothed with vines and mulberry trees, whence the plain stretches away into the distance. The road, as I have described, hangs on the side of the mountain, and is fringed with wild flowers and shrubs: having the aspect of a garden; the white lilac, the privette, the pomegranate, the rose, the woodbine, the ruby-coloured arum, and the yellow broom, are in profusion; and it is with compunction that you guide your horse among them when turning off the narrow pathway at the encounter of a chance passenger; while the perfume which fills the air, and the song of the nightingales among the mulberry trees, complete the charm of the picture.
By this delightful road you reach the village of Tzèkerghè, in which the Baths are situated. It possesses a very handsome mosque, which was originally a Greek monastery. The exterior of the Temple is very handsome, the whole facade being adorned with a peristyle of white marble, and the great entrance approached by a noble flight of steps. The interior is, as usual, painted in scrolls, and lighted by pendent lamps, but is not remarkable for either beauty ormagnificence. The arrangement of the cloisters and the refectory of the monks is very curious, being all situated above the chapel, and opening from a long gallery, surmounting the peristyle. To this portion of the building we ascended by a decaying flight of stone steps, many of whose missing stairs had been replaced by fragments of sculptured columns: and found the gallery tenanted by a solitary old lunatic, who, squatted upon a ragged mat, was devouring voraciously a cake of black soft bread, such as is used by the poorest of the population. The monastic cells have been converted into receptacles for deranged persons, but this poor old man was now their only occupant. We threw him some small pieces of money, which he clutched with a delight as great as his surprise, murmuring the name of Allah, and apparently as happy as a child.
The court of the mosque is shaded by three magnificent plantain trees, and the fountain which faces the peristyle is remarkable from its basin containing cold water, and its pipes pouring forth warm. As the pipe is connected with the basin, the phenomenon is startling, although the effect is very simply produced when once its cause is investigated, the fountain being fed by two distinct springs; the hot spring being built in, and forced into the pipes; and the cold one being suffered to fill the basin, whence it runs off in another direction.
Near the mosque stands the Mausoleum of Sultan Mourad I., whose court is enclosed by a heavy gate, said to be formed of one of the precious metals cased with iron; and the country people have a tradition that previously to his death, the Sultan desired that should the Empire ever suffer from poverty, this gate might be melted down, when the reigning monarch would become more rich than any of his predecessors. Be this as it may, and it is sufficiently paradoxical, the gate has originally been richly gilded, though much of the ornamental work is now worn away; and it is probably to this circumstance that it owes its reputation.
Of an equally questionable nature is the legend relating to the name of the village, which signifies in English, Grasshopper—a fact accounted for by the peasantry in the following manner.
Sultan Mourad, during the time that the Christian monastery was undergoing conversion into a Mohammedan mosque, was one day sitting within the peristyle, when a grasshopper sprang upon him, which he adroitly caught in his hand; where he still held it, when a Dervish approached, who, after having made his obeisance, began to importune the pious Sultan for some indulgence to his order; and was answered that if he could tell, without hesitation or error, what was grasped by the monarch, the favourshould be granted. The wily Dervish, knowing that the mountain abounded with grasshoppers, and that nothing was more probable than that one of these might have jumped upon the Sultan, immediately replied: “Though the ambition of a vile insect should lead it to spring from the earth of which it is an inhabitant, into the face of the sunshine, as though it were rather a denizen of the air, it suffices that the Imperial hand be outstretched, to arrest its arrogance. Happy is it, therefore, both for the rebel who would fain build up a sun of glory for himself, of a ray stolen from the hâlo which surrounds the forehead of the Emperor of the World; and for the tzèkerghè, that, springing from its leafy obscurity, dares to rest upon the hem of the sacred garment, when the Sultan (Merciful as he is Mighty!) refrains from crushing in his grasp the reptile which he holds. Favourite of Allah! Lord of the Earth! Is my boon granted?”
“It is, Dervish:”—said the Sultan, opening his hand as he spoke, and thus suffering the insect to escape: “And that the memory of thy conference with Sultan Mourad may not be lost, and that the reputation of thy quick wit and subtle policy may endure to after ages, I name this spot, Tzèkerghè——and let none dare to give it another appellation.”
TURKISH MAUSOLEUM.Miss Pardoe del.Day & Haghe Lith.rsto the King.TURKISH MAUSOLEUM.Henry Colburn, 13 G.tMarlborough St 1837.
We were obliged to exert all our best efforts,in order to induce the Imam, who had charge of the Imperial Mausoleum, to allow us to enter. We were compelled to declare our country, our reasons for visiting Asia, and our purpose in desiring to see the tomb of a True Believer, when we were ourselves Infidels. Having satisfactorily replied to all these categories, we were, however, finally gratified by an assent; and the tall, stately Imam rose from the wayside bank upon which he had been sitting, and, applying a huge key to the gate of which I have already spoken, admitted us to the Court of the Tomb.
This edifice, which was erected by the Sultan himself, is beautifully proportioned, and paved with polished marble; the dome is supported by twelve stately columns of the same material, six of them having Byzantine, and six, Corinthian Capitals, but the whole number are now painted a bright green, having a broad scarlet stripe at their base! I inquired the cause of this Vandalism, hoping, as the colour chosen was a sacred one, that some religious reason might be adduced, which, however insufficient to excuse the profanation, might at least tend to palliate it: but I failed in my object; they had simply been painted to make them prettier; and the same cause had operated similarly upon the gigantic wax candles, that stood at the extremities of the Imperial Sarcophagus, and which were clad in the same livery.
A goodly collection of wives and children share the Mausoleum with Sultan Mourad, who is covered with splendid shawls, and at the head of whose tomb, protected by a handkerchief of gold tissue, towers one of the stately turbans of the ancient costume. As it was the first that I had seen, I examined it attentively; and am only astonished how the cobweb-like muslin was ever woven into such minute and intricate folds. At the head of the Sarcophagus, on a marble pedestal (painted like the others!) stood a copper vessel inlaid with silver, and filled with wheat—the symbol of abundance; and at its foot was suspended a plough; while lamps and ostrich eggs were festooned among the columns.
The light fell in patches upon the marble floor, or quivered as the wind swept through the plantain trees, throwing fantastic shadows over the tombs; and I left the Mausoleum of Sultan Mourad, more than ever convinced that no people upon earth have succeeded better than the Turks in robbing death of all its terrors, and diffusing an atmosphere of cheerfulness and comfort about the last resting-places of the departed.
The Sarcophagus, as I have already stated, is universally based on a mass of masonry about a foot in height, covered with plaister, and whitewashed. I inquired why this portion of the tomb was not built of marble, when inmany cases the floors, and even the walls of the mausoleum were formed of that material; and was assured by the Imam that it was from a religious superstition, which he was, nevertheless, unable to explain.
Beneath this stone-work an iron grating veils the entrance of the subterranean in which the body of the Sultan is deposited; the sarcophagus being a mere empty case of wood, overlaid by a covering of baize or cloth, concealed in its turn by shawls and embroidered handkerchiefs. No one is permitted to enter this subterranean, which can generally be approached also by an exterior door opening into the court of the tomb-house, save the reigning monarch, the Turks looking with horror on all desecration of the dead, and neither bribes nor entreaties being sufficient to tempt them to a violation of the sacred trust confided to them.
On quitting the mausoleum we proceeded to the principal bath; where, leaving the gentlemen comfortably seated under the shade of a maple tree near the entrance, I went in alone. The appearance of the outer hall was most singular; the raised gallery was tenanted, throughout its whole extent, with Turkish and Greek women, eating, sleeping, and gossipping, or busied in the arrangement of their toilette; while, suspended from the transverse beams of the ceiling, swung a score of little hammocks,in which lay as many infants. How the children of the country can, at so tender an age, endure the sulphurous and suffocating atmosphere of the bath is wonderful, but they not only do not suffer, but actually appear to enjoy it.
Passing from this hall, which was of considerable extent, I entered the cooling-room, in which the bathers were braiding their hair, or sleeping upon the heated floor: and opening a door at the upper end, I walked into the bath-room. Here I found between forty and fifty women, whom for the first moment I could scarcely distinguish through the dense steam, arising from a marble basin that occupied the centre of the floor, and which was about a hundred feet in circumference.
The natural spring that supplies this basin is so hot that it requires considerable habit to enable an individual to support its warmth, when the doors of the bath are closed. The effect which it produced on me was most disagreeable; the combined heat and smell of the water were overpowering; but the scene was altogether so extraordinary, that I compelled myself to endure the annoyance for a few minutes, in order to form an accurate idea of an establishment of which I had heard so much.
The spring, escaping from a neighbouring mountain, is forced by pipes into the bathing-hall, where it pours its principal volume intothe main basin, part of the stream being diverted from its channel in order to feed the lesser tanks of the private rooms; from the basin it escapes by a sluice at the lower end, and thus the body of water is constantly renewed. When I entered, several of the bathers were up to their chins in the basin, their long dark tresses floating on the surface of the water; others, resting upon a step which brought the water only to their knees, were lying upon the edge of the tank, while their attendants were pouring the hot stream over them from metal basins; some, seated on low stools, were receiving the mineralized fluid after the fashion of a shower bath; while one, lying all her length upon the heated marble of the floor—so heated that I could scarcely apply my open palm to it without suffering—was sleeping as tranquilly as though she had been extended upon a bed of down.
The hot springs of Broussa are numerous, but vary considerably in their degrees of temperature; those which are frequented by persons labouring under chronic diseases are much warmer than those used by ordinary patients. The most powerful spring boils an egg perfectly hard in two minutes; while there are others that are not more than blood heat. They are all highly mineralized, and that which feeds the large basin of the public hall is strongly impregnated with sulphur.
My appearance in the bath did not create the slightest sensation among the bathers. The few whom I encountered on my way moved aside to enable me to pass, and uttered the usual salutation; while those who were more busily engaged simply suspended their operations for a moment, and resumed them as soon as their curiosity was gratified.
I afterwards visited the “Miraculous Bath,” of which it is asserted that a person in a dying state, who will submit to pass a night in complete solitude on the margin of the basin, will rise in the morning perfectly restored to health, whatever may have been the nature of the disease: but, unfortunately, I could not find any one who had experienced, or even witnessed, a cure of the kind, though many had heard of them in numbers. As an equivalent, however, an old, ugly, red-haired Armenian woman was pointed out to me, who is a celebrated doctress, and who had just succeeded in sending home a credulous elderly gentleman to die in Constantinople, who came to Broussa in a state of indisposition, and left it, thanks to the nostrums of this ancient sybil, without a hope of recovery.
Many of the houses in the village are furnished with hot springs; and although they are, generally speaking, of mean appearance, and in a dilapidated condition, they produce very highrents during the season; and are usually let to Greek families of distinction, or to Europeans.
The situation of Tzèkerghè is eminently beautiful, and the air is balmy and elastic; the magnificent plain is spread out beneath it; it is backed by lofty mountains; and it is in itself a perfect bower of fig-trees, plantains, and maples. The nightingales sing throughout the whole of the day—the rush of water into the valley feeds a score of fountains, which keep up a perpetual murmur; open kiosks are raised along the hill side, some of them traversed by a running stream; storks build in the tall trees; tortoises and land turtles crawl among the high grass and the wild flowers; and altogether I know not a prettier spot than that which is occupied by the village of Tzèkerghè—the rural Cheltenham of Turkey.
Difficulty of Access to the Chapel of the Howling Dervishes—Invitation to Visit their Harem—The Chapel—Sects and Trades—Entrance of the Dervishes—Costume—The Prayer—Turning Dervishes—Fanatical Suffering—Groans and Howls—Difficulty of Description—Sectarian Ceremony—Music versus Madness—Tekiè of the Turning Dervishes.
Ofall the religious ceremonies of the East, those of the different sects of Dervishes are the most extraordinary, and, generally speaking, the most difficult of access. The Turning Dervishes alone freely admit foreigners, and even provide a latticed gallery for the use of the women: while their chapels are usually so situated as to enable the passer-by to witness all that is going on within. The more stern and bigoted sects, on the contrary, permit none but Mussulmauns to intrude upon their mysteries, and build their chapels in obscure places, in order to prevent the intrusion of Christians.
I had heard much of the Howling Dervishes, and had made many unsuccessful attempts at Constantinople to penetrate into their Tekiè; but they are so jealous of strangers that I wasunwillingly compelled to give up all idea of accomplishing my object, when, on arriving at Broussa, and finding how comparatively easy it was to gain admittance to the mosques, I resolved to renew my endeavours. But I found that even here many difficulties were to be overcome; difficulties which, of myself, I never could have surmounted; when, having fortunately made the acquaintance of a gentleman who was known to the High Priest, and who had already witnessed their service, I prevailed on him to exert his influence for me, in which he fortunately succeeded.
On arriving at the Tekiè, we found that the service had not yet commenced, and we accordingly seated ourselves on a stone bench in the little outer court, to await the gathering of the fraternity. While we remained there, one of the principal Dervishes approached us, and offered, should I desire it, to admit me into the interior of the harem to visit the women; but, as the ceremonies were shortly to commence in the chapel, and I was already suffering extremely from the heat, I declined to profit by the indulgence.
The chapel, which was up stairs, was approached by an open entrance, having on the left hand a small apartment whose latticed windows looked into this place of mystery; and into this room we were admitted, after havingtaken off our shoes; while a couple of youths were stationed within the gallery of the chapel itself, in order to prevent the crowd from impeding our view.
A large square apartment surrounded by a low gallery, and ornamented like the mosques, with written passages from the Koràn; upon whose walls were suspended battle-axes, tambourines, and half a dozen small Arabian drums; and whose arched recess was shaded by three banners of the sacred green, and overlaid with a rich crimson rug, formed the chapel of the Howling Dervishes. Within the niche, framed and glazed, were suspended the names of the Prophets, a huge chaplet, and a green scarf; and on each side a small portion of the gallery was railed off for the convenience of a few individuals of rank. One of these was already occupied by a solemn-looking Turk, in a frock-coat andfèz, doubtlessly one of the sect, who had withdrawn from the public exercise of his religion.
I know not whether I have elsewhere noticed that every Musselmaun, however high his rank, has a trade and a peculiar faith—thus the Sultan is a Turning Dervish and a Tooth-pick maker—and I have consequently no doubt but the Turk in question had an individual interest in the ceremonial. He was accompanied by a child of about six years of age, dressed precisely like himself, and attended by a black slave. I was more confirmed in my opinion relative to the father by watching the gestures of the son, who imitated every motion of the Dervishes during the service with the most perfect exactness, and who was accommodated with a rug near the seat of the High Priest.
The throng which pressed into the chapel was immense, and the heat most oppressive; while the youths who guarded our windows were kept in constant action by the strenuous efforts made by the crowd to occupy the vacant space. I never saw a finer set of men—such bright black eyes, fine foreheads, and sparkling teeth.
At length a low chanting commenced in the court, and a train of Dervishes, headed by the High Priest, slowly ascended to the chapel. They had no peculiar costume, save the chief himself, who wore a magnificent green turban with a white crown, and a cloak of olive-coloured cloth. He was a pale, delicate-looking man of about one or two-and-twenty, whose father had been dead a couple of years; when, as the dignity is hereditary throughout all the sects of the Dervishes, he had succeeded to the painful honours of the crimson rug. There was something melancholy in seeing this sickly youth lead the nine fanatics who followed him to the upper end of the chapel, to commence their agonizing rites; and as he stepped upon the rug, withthe palms of his hands turned upwards, and the attendant Dervishes cast themselves on the earth, and laid their foreheads in the dust, I felt a thrill of pity for the ill-judged zeal and blind delusion which was rapidly wearing him to the grave.
One of the causes adduced by this sect of their disinclination to admit Christians to their worship is the frequent recurrence of the name of Allah in their orizons, which should never be uttered in an atmosphere polluted by the breath of a Giaour. I presume that, in our case, their consciences were quieted by the intervention of the wooden lattices, and the reflection that we were not actually within the chapel.
The prayer was long and solemn; not a sound was audible, save the low monotonous chant of the High Priest, and the deep responses of his followers, who, ere it ended, had increased in number to about fifty. At its close, the whole of the Dervishes formed a ring round the chapel, and one of the elders, of whom there were four, spread in the recess a fine tiger skin, upon which the High Priest took his place; and then, turning his face towards Mecca, and murmuring a low prayer, to which the rest replied by stifled groans, he invested himself with the green scarf which I have already mentioned, and, resuming his seat upon the rug, commenced a species ofchant, which was echoed by the whole fraternity: every individual swinging himself slowly to and fro, as he sat with his feet doubled under him upon the floor. Every moment added to their numbers, and each on his arrival cast off his slippers at the entrance, and advanced barefooted to the place of the High Priest; where, after praying silently for a moment with outstretched palms, he stroked down his beard, and, bending on one knee, pressed the hand of his leader to his lips and forehead, and then took up a position in the ring; which ultimately became so thronged that the individuals who composed it pressed closely upon each other, and, as they swung slowly to and fro, appeared to move in one dense mass.
The ceremony was at this point, when the Chief of the Turning Dervishes, accompanied by his two principal Priests, arrived to assist at the service of his fellow-Dervish. The chant ceased as they entered the chapel; the youthful leader of the Howling Dervishes bent down in his turn, and pressed the hand of his visitor to his lips, while the stately guest kissed the cheek of the pale stripling who passed forward to greet his companions, and after conducting them to the place of honour, seated himself beside them.
The chanting was then resumed, and after a time increased in quickness; while at intervals,as the name of Allah was pronounced, some solitary individual uttered a howl, which I can compare to nothing but the cry of a wild beast.
Things had progressed thus far, when suddenly a strong voice shouted, “Allah Il Allah!” and a powerful man sprang from the floor, as though he had been struck in the heart, fell forward upon his head, and by a violent spasm rolled over, and lay flat upon his back, with his arms crossed on his breast, and his whole frame as rigid as though he had stiffened into death. His turban had fallen off, and the one long lock of hair pendent from the centre of his head was scattered over the floor—his mouth was slightly open, and his eyes fixed—in short, the convulsion was a terrific one; and it was not before the lapse of several minutes that two of the fraternity, who hastened to his assistance, succeeded in unclasping his hands, and changing his position. Having ultimately raised him from the floor, still in a state of insensibility, they carried him to the crimson rug, and laid him at the feet of the High Priest, who stroked down his beard, and laid his right hand upon his breast; they then continued to use all their efforts to produce re-animation; and having ultimately succeeded, they seated him once more in his place, and left him to recover himself as he might.
The howling still continued at intervals, andas the chanting and the motion increased in violence, these miserable fanatics appeared to become maddened by their exertions; when, at a certain point of the ceremony, four of the fraternity, who had green scarfs flung over their left shoulders, advanced, one by one, to the seat of the High Priest, and there slowly, and with much parade, transferred them first to their necks, and afterwards to their waists, and ultimately took their stand, two on each side of themihrab, or recess.
After the lapse of a short interval the High Priest rose and advanced into the centre of the ring, where he took possession of a carpet that had been spread for him, having immediately behind him two of the assistant priests; and they then commenced a prayer, the effect of which was thrilling. The young chief delivered a sentence in a clear, melodious voice, and paused; when the whole fraternity responded by a long groan: again and again this was repeated, only interrupted from time to time by some wild, fiendish howl, the individual who uttered it tossing back his head, and flinging his arms into the air with the gesture of a maniac.
To this prayer succeeded another low sustained wail, during whose continuance the priests collected the turbans, pelisses, cloaks, pistols, and yataghans of the Dervishes, who, springing totheir feet, stood in a circle about their chief; and then commenced the painful portion of their service. The measure of the chant was regulated by the High Priest, who clapped his hands from time to time to increase its speed: himself and his four green-girdled assistants uttering the words of the prayer, while the fraternity, rocking themselves to and fro, kept up one continual groan, rising and falling with the voices of the choir. Howl succeeded to howl, as the exhaustion consequent on this violent bodily exertion began to produce its effect; until at length strong men fell on the earth on all sides like children, shrieking and groaning in their agony—some struggling to free themselves from the grasp of those who endeavoured to restrain them, and others trembling in all their limbs, and sobbing out their anguish like infants.
I never witnessed such a scene; nor should I have conceived it possible for human beings to have gratuitously subjected themselves to the agony which these misguided wretches visibly endured. The chanting ceased suddenly at given intervals, but not so the groans; for the speed with which they were uttered, and the violence of motion by which they were accompanied, became finally so great, that several seconds frequently elapsed before the miserable beings could check either the one or the other,and many of them fell into convulsions with the effort.
The more I write on the subject of this extraordinary and disgusting exhibition, the more I feel the utter impossibility of conveying by words a correct idea of it; from a long sustained groan, and a slow, heaving, wave-like motion, it grew into a hoarse sobbing, and a quick jerk, which I can compare to nothing that it more resembles than the rapid action of a pair of bellows; the cheeks and foreheads of the actors became pale, their eyes dim, and white foam gathered about their mouths—in short, the scene resembled rather the orgies of a band of demons than an offering of worship to aGodof peace and love!
At this period of the ceremony, the muffled flutes used by the Turning Dervishes were heard, accompanied by the low sound of the small Arabian drums; and a majestic-looking man, clad entirely in white, with a black girdle, rose, at a signal from his chief, and commenced his evolutions. His example was speedily followed by two more of the fraternity; the chanting ceased, but the circle of Howling Dervishes continued their short groans to the accompaniment of the music, and the spectacle thus produced was most extraordinary. Such an occurrence had not taken place for an immense time, and arose from the anxiety of each sect toimpress our party in their favour, which they were desirous of doing when they had once been induced to admit us.
To this exhibition succeeded one as striking of its kind; the tambourines and drums were divided among the fraternity; the latter were all beat by youths, who formed a second, or inner circle, and in the midst of whom stood the High Priest, striking a pair of cymbals. Groans, howls, and yells, such as may haunt the ear of the midnight traveller in the wilderness, filled up the diapason; while the struggles of the convulsion-smitten, and their wild shrieks, completed the horror of the scene. It was impossible to bear it longer; and we hurried from the latticed apartment just as three more tottering wretches were falling to the earth, howling out the sacred name of Allah, in tones better suited to a Satanic invocation!
On the morrow we visited the elegant chapel of the Turning Dervishes, where a carpet was politely spread for us by order of the High Priest; and we once more witnessed their service, which was far more picturesque at Broussa than at Pera, owing to the beauty of the building and the numbers of the fraternity. However extraordinary and unmeaning their ceremonies may appear to strangers, they have this great advantage over the other sect, that they are neither ridiculous nor disgusting. The most perfectorder, the most touching solemnity, and the most beautiful cleanliness, are their leading characteristics; and it is impossible for any unprejudiced person to quit their Tekiè, without feeling at least as much respect as pity for the Turning Dervishes.
Loquacious Barber—Unthrifty Travellers—Mount Olympus—Early Rising—Aspect of the Country at Dawn—Peasants and Travellers—Fine View—Peculiarity of Oriental Cities—Stunted Minarets—Plains and Precipices—Halting-Place—Difficulty of Ascending the Mountain—Change of Scenery—Repast in the Desart—Civil Guide—Appearance of the Mount—Snows and Sunshine—Fatiguing Pilgrimage—Dense Mists—Intense Cold—Flitting Landscape—The Chibouk—The Giant’s Grave—The Roofless Hut—Lake of Appollonia—The Wilderness—Dangerous Descent—Philosophic Guide—Storm among the Mountains—The Guide at Fault—Happy Discovery—Tempest.
I rememberto have heard an anecdote of a facetious barber, who, while operating upon the chin of a customer, commenced catechising his victim on the subject of his foreign travel.
“You are an army gentleman, I believe, Sir; pray were you in Egypt?” “Yes.” “Really! then perhaps you saw the Pyramids?” “Yes.” “Travelled a little in Greece, perhaps, Sir?” “A little.” “Pleasant place, Greece, I’ve been told; Athens, and all that. I dare say you fought in the Peninsula?” “Once or twice.” “Charming country, Spain, I’ve heard, Sir; indeed I’ve read Gil Blas, which gives one a very pretty notion of it. Plenty of oranges in Portugal, Sir?” “Plenty.” “Vastly nice, indeed, quite a favourite fruit of mine. Did you ever serve in the East or West Indies, Sir?” “Inboth.” “Really! why you’re quite a traveller. Of course, Sir, you’ve seen Paris?” “Never.” “Never seen Paris, Sir!” exclaimed the man of suds and small-talk: “never visited the French metropolis! why, dear me, Sir, you have seen nothing!”
In like manner, he who travels to the East—who feasts with Pashas in Europe, and eats pillauf with Beys in Asia—who peeps into palaces—glides in his swift caïque along the channel of the Bosphorus—overruns all Turkey, and half Egypt, and returns home without smoking a pipe on the summit of Mount Olympus, has, according to the declaration of the natives, “seen nothing.”
Of course it was out of the question that I should add to the number of these unthrifty travellers; and accordingly on the morning of the 11th of June (at least two months too soon), the horses were at the door at four o’clock; and, shaking off my sleepiness as well as I could, I set forward, accompanied by a Greek gentleman, with whose charming family we had formed a friendship, and who was himself well calculated by his scientific acquirements to enhance the enjoyment of the expedition, our servant, and a guide, for the dwelling of the Gods.
The morning was yet gray; the mists were hanging in wreaths about the mountains, and draping them in ermine; the dew was lyingheavily on the dense vegetation; a few straggling peasants passed us on the outskirts of the sleeping city, some bearing scythes upon their shoulders, affixed to straight poles about eight feet in length—or carrying round spades of wood—or driving before them the animals who were to return laden with mulberry branches for the nurture of the silk-worms which are reared in millions at Broussa. The number of individuals constantly employed in providing food for these insects must be very great, as we have counted upwards of two hundred horses, mules, and donkeys, bearing closely-packed loads of boughs, passing in one day beneath our windows from the same gate of the city; and, as the immense plain is covered with trees, which are each year cut closely down to the trunk, the consumption may be imagined.
A little beyond the city we passed a mule-litter, closely covered with scarlet cloth, guided by two men, and followed by three Turkish gentlemen on horseback, attended by their servants, bound on some mountain pilgrimage; but we had not proceeded above half a league, ere, with the exception of a string of mules laden with timber, which occasionally crossed our path, we had the wilderness to ourselves.
The ascent commences, immediately on leaving the city, which on this side is bounded by a deep ditch or fosse, into which two mountaintorrents, boiling and bellowing down from the neighbouring heights, pour their flashing waters. A narrow pathway, so narrow that two saddle-horses cannot pass in it, traverses a dense wood of dwarf oak and hazel, clothing the hill-side, above whose stunted summits we looked down upon the plain, and the minarets of Broussa.
A sudden turn in the road conducted us rapidly upwards, freed us from the hazel wood, and plunged us among masses of rock, over which our horses slid and stumbled, until we reached the foot of the next range of heights. Here the landscape began to grow in beauty; behind us was the city fenced with mountains, mapped out in all its extent, and as remarkable as that of Constantinople for the extraordinary and beautiful admixture of buildings and foliage, which I never remember to have seen elsewhere.
Every habitation possessing, if not its garden, at least its one tall tree, beneath whose boughs the family congregate during the warm hours, the appearance of an Eastern city, as you look down upon it from any neighbouring height, is entirely devoid of that monotony which renders the roofs and chimneys of an European town so utterly uninteresting. It looks as though the houses had grown up gradually in the midst of a thick grove, and the eye lingers without weariness on the scene, where the glittering casements, touched by the sunlight, flash throughthe clustering leaves, and the wind heaves aside the more flexile branches to reveal a stately portal, or a graceful kiosk. From the spot on which we now stood, we saw Broussa to great advantage. The most striking object was the spacious mosque of Oulou-Jamè piercing through the morning mists in spectral whiteness—the stunted minarets, looking like caricatures of those light, slender, fairy-moulded creations which shoot so loftily into the blue heaven at Stamboul; minarets that have sacrificed their grace to the south wind, which blows so violently at Broussa as frequently to unroof the more lofty buildings; and whose ill-proportioned cupolas of lead complete the pictorial ruin, and give them the appearance of bulky wax candles, surmounted by metal extinguishers. A small space beyond ran the gleaming river, sparkling along its bed of white pebbles—the wilderness of mulberry trees spreading over the green carpet of the plain—and away, afar off, the range of mountains purpling in the distance, and crowned with clouds!
Beside us, not half a foot from our horse’s hoof, we had a sheer precipice clothed with dwarf-oak and spruce, and we heard, although we could not see, the tumbling waters of a torrent which roared and rushed along the bottom of the gulph. Beyond the precipice, towered a lordly mountain, upon whose crest were pillowed densemasses of fleecy vapour; while stately fir trees draped it with a thousand tints. Before us rose masses of rock, through which we had to make our way: and from every crevice sprang a forest tree, whose gnarled and knotted roots were washed by a rushing stream, which was flung up like spray as our horses splashed through it. We next reached a patch of soft fresh turf; maple and ash trees overshadowed it; wild artichokes and violets were strown in every direction; the rich ruby-coloured arum hung its long dank leaves over the narrow channel, through which glided a pigmy stream almost hidden by the rank vegetation; the little yellow hearts’-ease was dotted over the banks; the ringdoves were cooing amid the leaves; and the grasshopper, as green and almost as bright as an emerald, was springing from flower to flower. It is a place of pause for the traveller, and it deserves to be so. There can scarcely be a lovelier in the world! One or two fragments of cold grey rock pierced through the rich grass, as if to enhance its beauty, and afforded a resting-place, whence we looked round upon the masses of mountain scenery by which we were surrounded; and few, I should imagine, would fail to profit by this opportunity of temporary rest, when they contemplated the far extent of wild and difficult country through which they were to travel.
Let none venture the ascent of Mount Olympus who have not the head and the hand equally steady; who are incapable not only of standing upon the “giddy brink,” but also of riding along it when the road is scarcely a foot in width, and the precipice some hundreds in depth; and where the only path is a torrent-chafed channel, or a line of rock piled in ledges, and slippery with water; for assuredly, to all such,le jeu ne vaudra pas la chandelle, as it is impossible to imagine ways less calculated to calm the nerves, or to re-assure the timid. You urge your horse up a flat stone, as high and as large as a billiard table, and splash he descends on the other side up to his girths in mud: now you ride up a bank to escape collision with a string of timber-laden mules, and in descending you are stumbling and scrambling among the roots of trees, which twirl and twist among the vegetation like huge snakes; at one moment you are almost knocked off your saddle by a forest-bough that you have not room to avoid, and the next you are up to your knees in a torrent which he refuses to leap. Assuredly the Gods never wished to receive company.
As the ascent became more difficult, the whole face of the landscape changed: lofty firs shot upwards against the clear sky, while rocks fantastically piled, and looking like the ruins of a lordly city, were scattered over a plain whichwe skirted in turning the elbow of the next range of heights. Here and there, a tree that had been smitten by the thunder reared aloft its white and leafless branches, while its shivered trunk looked like a mass of charcoal. Eagles and vultures soared above our heads; innumerable cuckoos called to each other among the rocks: at intervals the low growl of a bear was heard in the distance; and altogether, a more savage scene can scarcely be imagined.
A fine fir-wood succeeded, which terminated in a small plain intersected by a sparkling trout-stream, whose waters formed a thousand pigmy cascades as they tumbled over the rocky fragments that choked their channel. Here we spread our morning meal, cooling our delicate Greek wine in the waters of Mount Olympus, and seating ourselves upon the fresh turf which was enamelled with violets and wild hyacinths. At this spot travellers usually leave their horses, and proceed to the summit of the mountain on foot; but our good cheer, our soft words, and, above all, the promise of an increasedbackshish, so won upon our guide, that he consented to let his horses’ knees and our necks share the same risk, and to proceed as much further as might be practicable for the animals.
What a breakfast we made! My intelligent Greek friend already talking of his mineralogical expectations; I decorating my riding-habitwith lovely wild flowers; the portly Turk paying marked attention to the hard eggs andcaviare, and the servant passing to and fro the stream with glasses of cool wine, sparkling like liquid topaz.
Before us towered the mountain, whose every creek and crevice was heaped with snow, while one dense mass of vapour hung upon its brow like a knightly plume. From the summit of the mount the snow had disappeared, but the white slate-stone of which it is composed gleamed out beneath the sunshine with a glare that was almost dazzling. The sides of the rock are clothed with juniper, which, from the continual pressure of the snow, is dwarfed and stunted, and rather crawls along the earth than springs from it; and whose berries produce a singular and beautiful effect on the masses beneath which they are concealed, by giving to them a pink tinge that has almost the effect of art. Yet, nevertheless, I could not forbear casting a glance of anxiety at the towering height, which all its majesty and magnificence failed to dispel. I had been told that in the month of June it would be impossible for a female to ascend to the summit—I had already left behind me six long leagues of the wilderness—two more of perpetual and difficult ascent were before me—but I remembered my prowess in the Desart of the Chartreux, and I resolved to persevere.
Our hamper was repacked, our bridles were re-adjusted, and, fording the little stream, we once more set forward upon our “high emprize;” and after scrambling through acres of juniper, sliding over ledges of rock, and riding through nine torrents, we at length found ourselves at the foot of the almost perpendicular mountain.
It was a magnificent spectacle! The mid-day sun was shining upon the eternal snows, which, yielding partially and reluctantly to its beams, were melting into a thousand pigmy streams that glittered and glided among the juniper bushes; the highest peak of the mount, crowned by its diadem of vapour, rose proudly against the blue sky; the ragged ridges of the chain, tempest-riven and bare, hung over the snow-filled gulphs, into which the grasp of centuries had hurled portions of their own stupendous mass; and not a sound was audible save the brawling of the torrents in the lower lands, or the wind sweeping at intervals round the rocky point.
When I dismounted, and flung my bridle to the guide, I felt as though I had gained another year of life!
Never shall I forget the fatigue of that ascent!—a weary league over the gnarled roots of the juniper plants, and loose stones which treacherously failed beneath our feet, and frequently lost us six steps for the one that we thought to gain. But at length we stood upon the edge ofthe rock; we had clomb the ascent, and were looking down upon the mountains that we had traversed in the morning;, as though into a valley; but our task was not yet ended: the loftiest peak, the seat of Jupiter, yet towered above us, and seemed to mock our efforts. Between that peak, and the spot on which we stood, there was a deep hollow, to be descended on our side, and again mounted on the other: the rock was edged with snow many feet in depth; our feet sank among the loose stones; the cold was piercing; and to add to our discomfort, the vapours were rising from the valley beyond the mountain in one dense mass which resembled the concentrated smoke of a burning world.
The effect was sublimely awful! Fold upon fold—shade darkening over shade—nothing was to be seen but the cold, gray, clinging vapour which hung against the mountain, as if to curtain the space beyond. It was frightful to stand upon the edge of the precipice, and to mark the working of that mysterious cloud—fancy ran riot in looking on it—its superhuman extent—its unearthly, impalpable texture—its everchanging form—its deep, dense tint—my brain reeled with watching its shifting wonders; and had not my companion withdrawn me from the brink, I should have sunk down from sheer mental exhaustion.
We had been warned not to linger when on the mountain, and after the lapse of a few moments we again toiled on. At intervals the vapour rolled back, and gave us glimpses of hills, and valleys, and woods, and streams, far below us; but it was like the production of a fairy-wand, for while we yet looked upon them they were lost: another heavy fold of mist rose from the chasm, and again all was chaos.