And without waiting for a reply, she warbled to a plaintive melody some Greek stanzas, of which the following is a free translation:
THE GREEK GIRL’S SONG.
My own bright Greece! My sunny land!Nurse of the brave and free!How bound the chords beneath my handWhene’er I sing of thee—The myrtle branches wave above my brow,And glorious memories throng around me now!Thy very name was once a spell,—A watchword in the earth—With thee the Arts first deigned to dwell—And o’er thy gentle hearthThe social spirit spread her gleaming wings;And made it the glad home of pure and lovely things.The snowy marble sprang to life’Neath thy Promethean touch;The breeze with sunny song was rife:(Where now awakens such?)All that was brightest, best, with thee was found,And thy sons trod in pride thy classic ground.The burning eloquence which dipsIts torch in living fire,Flowed, like a lava-tide, from lipsThat, from the funeral-pyreOf by-past ages plucked a burning brand,To shed new light o’er thee, thou bright and glorious land.They tell me thou art nothing now—I spurn the unholy thought!The beam is yet upon thy browWhich erst from Heaven it caught—Let then the baneful, blighting mockery cease!Still art thou beautiful, my own fair Greece!Firm hearts and glowing souls remainTo love thee, glorious one!And though no hand may clasp againThy once celestial zone,Better to worship at thy ruined shrine,Than bend the knee at one less proud and pure than thine!
My own bright Greece! My sunny land!Nurse of the brave and free!How bound the chords beneath my handWhene’er I sing of thee—The myrtle branches wave above my brow,And glorious memories throng around me now!Thy very name was once a spell,—A watchword in the earth—With thee the Arts first deigned to dwell—And o’er thy gentle hearthThe social spirit spread her gleaming wings;And made it the glad home of pure and lovely things.The snowy marble sprang to life’Neath thy Promethean touch;The breeze with sunny song was rife:(Where now awakens such?)All that was brightest, best, with thee was found,And thy sons trod in pride thy classic ground.The burning eloquence which dipsIts torch in living fire,Flowed, like a lava-tide, from lipsThat, from the funeral-pyreOf by-past ages plucked a burning brand,To shed new light o’er thee, thou bright and glorious land.They tell me thou art nothing now—I spurn the unholy thought!The beam is yet upon thy browWhich erst from Heaven it caught—Let then the baneful, blighting mockery cease!Still art thou beautiful, my own fair Greece!Firm hearts and glowing souls remainTo love thee, glorious one!And though no hand may clasp againThy once celestial zone,Better to worship at thy ruined shrine,Than bend the knee at one less proud and pure than thine!
My own bright Greece! My sunny land!Nurse of the brave and free!How bound the chords beneath my handWhene’er I sing of thee—The myrtle branches wave above my brow,And glorious memories throng around me now!Thy very name was once a spell,—A watchword in the earth—With thee the Arts first deigned to dwell—And o’er thy gentle hearthThe social spirit spread her gleaming wings;And made it the glad home of pure and lovely things.The snowy marble sprang to life’Neath thy Promethean touch;The breeze with sunny song was rife:(Where now awakens such?)All that was brightest, best, with thee was found,And thy sons trod in pride thy classic ground.The burning eloquence which dipsIts torch in living fire,Flowed, like a lava-tide, from lipsThat, from the funeral-pyreOf by-past ages plucked a burning brand,To shed new light o’er thee, thou bright and glorious land.They tell me thou art nothing now—I spurn the unholy thought!The beam is yet upon thy browWhich erst from Heaven it caught—Let then the baneful, blighting mockery cease!Still art thou beautiful, my own fair Greece!Firm hearts and glowing souls remainTo love thee, glorious one!And though no hand may clasp againThy once celestial zone,Better to worship at thy ruined shrine,Than bend the knee at one less proud and pure than thine!
My own bright Greece! My sunny land!
Nurse of the brave and free!
How bound the chords beneath my hand
Whene’er I sing of thee—
The myrtle branches wave above my brow,
And glorious memories throng around me now!
Thy very name was once a spell,—
A watchword in the earth—
With thee the Arts first deigned to dwell—
And o’er thy gentle hearth
The social spirit spread her gleaming wings;
And made it the glad home of pure and lovely things.
The snowy marble sprang to life
’Neath thy Promethean touch;
The breeze with sunny song was rife:
(Where now awakens such?)
All that was brightest, best, with thee was found,
And thy sons trod in pride thy classic ground.
The burning eloquence which dips
Its torch in living fire,
Flowed, like a lava-tide, from lips
That, from the funeral-pyre
Of by-past ages plucked a burning brand,
To shed new light o’er thee, thou bright and glorious land.
They tell me thou art nothing now—
I spurn the unholy thought!
The beam is yet upon thy brow
Which erst from Heaven it caught—
Let then the baneful, blighting mockery cease!
Still art thou beautiful, my own fair Greece!
Firm hearts and glowing souls remain
To love thee, glorious one!
And though no hand may clasp again
Thy once celestial zone,
Better to worship at thy ruined shrine,
Than bend the knee at one less proud and pure than thine!
But the wild-eyed Mariaritza has betrayed me into a digression in which I thought not to indulge when I commenced this chapter; and I must lead back my reader to the opening sentences, wherein I was noting the sweet season-changes that we had witnessed in the East. The summer, with its luxury of leaves and flowers, had passed away; and we saw the bright green of the Asian woods grow into gold beneath the touch of autumn. Our days of pilgrimage were numbered; and Stamboul, with its mosques and its minarets, its domes and its palaces, was soon to be only a gorgeous memory.
Already had we said our farewell to many a fond and valued friend, never, probably, to be looked upon again in life; and as we wandered amid scenes and sights to which we had becomefamiliarised, we felt that indescribable sadness with which an object is ever contemplated for the last time. The heart may have been wrung, the spirit may have been pained, during a foreign sojourn; deep shadows may have fallen over the landscape; but there must ever be sunny spots on which the memory lingers, and to which the affections cling.
The freshness had passed away from the Valley of the Sweet Waters, and the turf had withered beneath a scorching sun; yet to me it was still beautiful. The sparkling Barbyses was shrunken to a silver thread; but in my mind’s eye I yet saw it filling its graceful channel, and gliding like a snake through the silent glen. The cemetery of Eyoub was glorious! The lordly trees which overhang the tombs were rainbow-like in their tints; and the gilded head-stones appeared to be over-canopied by living gems.
Every hour passed in the solemn Necropolis of Scutari was a distinct mine of thought—Its deep, dense shadows, its voiceless solitude, its melancholy sublimity—all remained as I had first felt them—The seasons effect no change on this City of the Dead—The long dim avenues of cypress put on no summer livery to flaunt in the garish sunshine—amid the snows of winter, and the skies of spring, they wear the same dark hues—the autumnal beams shed no goldentints over their dusky foliage; nor do the summer heats betray them into blossoming. The grave-tree, nourished by the mouldering remnants of mortality, dank with the exhalations of the tombs, and rooted in a soil fed with corruption, drinks not the dews, and revels not in the day-beam, like the changeful child of the sunshine, which flings its leafy and light-loving branches over a painted kiosk, or a marble fountain—It is dark and silent, as the dead above whom it springs; and the wind moans more sadly among its boughs, than when it sweeps through the leaves of the summer woods.
The very streets, narrow, difficult, and even plague-teeming as they were, acquired a new interest when we remembered that in a few weeks we should tread them no more. The columns of the Atmeidan—the “Tree of Groans” beside the mosque of Sultan Achmet—the gorgeous Fountain of Topphannè—each claimed a longer look than heretofore, as we felt that it was the last.
These were our chosen haunts; and the steam-vessel that was to convey us to the Danube, by which route we had decided on returning to England, already lay in the port, when an Officer of the Imperial Household bore to us the gracious permission of the Sultan to visit his palaces; coupled with the injunction that we were to be unaccompanied by any other Frank. Not a moment was to be lost! We had not a weekto remain in the country; and we accordingly appointed the morrow for crossing to the gilded summer Palace of Beglierbey.
Our caïque was at the pier of Yeni-keuy at ten o’clock; and we shot athwart the channel which was steeped in sunshine, like wild birds. At the marble gate we were met by the courteous individual who was to act as our guide through the saloons of the Sultan; and, having made our bow to the Kiara, who was also awaiting us, we stepped across the threshold, followed by the gaze of the astonished guard; and skirting the rainbow-like garden, we passed along the line of gilt lattices which veil the seaward boundary of the pleasure-grounds; and entered the hall.
The first glance of the interior is not imposing. The double staircase, sweeping crescent-wise through the center of the entrance, contracts its extent so much as to give it the appearance of being insignificant in its proportions; an effect which is, moreover, considerably heightened by the elaborated ornaments of the carved and gilded balustrades and pillars. But such is far from being the case in reality; as, from this outer apartment, with its flooring of inlaid woods, arabesqued ceiling, and numerous casements, open no less than eight spacious saloons, appropriated to the Imperial Household.
Above this suite are situated the State Apartments; gorgeous with gilding, and richly furnished with every luxury peculiar alike to the East and to the West. The Turkish divans of brocade and embroidered velvet are relieved by sofas and lounges of European fashion—bijouterie from Geneva—porcelain from Sèvres—marbles from Italy—gems from Pompeii—Persian carpets—English hangings—and, in the principal saloons, six of the most magnificent, if not actuallythesixmostmagnificent, pier glasses in the world; a present to the Sultan from the Emperor of Russia, after the treaty of Unkiar Skelessi.
Upwards of twelve feet in height, and about six feet in width, of one single plate, and enclosed in a deep frame of silver gilt, bearing the united arms of the two empires; these costly glasses reflect in every direction the ornaments of the apartment; and produce an effect almost magical. While the highly elaborated ceiling, richly ornamented with delicate wreaths of flowers; and the bright-patterned carpet covering the floor, combine to fling over the vast saloon an atmosphere of light and gladness, which is increased by the dazzling glories of the parterre spread out beneath the windows; with its flashing fountain, golden orangery, and long line of gleaming lattices.
The Reception-Room is small, and remarkable only for the comfortably-cushioned divan onwhich the Sultan receives his visitors; and the noble view that it commands of the channel, from the Seraglio Point to the Castle of Mahomet.
The Banquetting Hall is entirely lined with inlaid woods of rare and beautiful kinds finely mosaiced; the ceiling and the floor being alike enriched with a deep garland of grapes and vine-leaves, flung over groups of pine-apples of exquisite workmanship.
Hence, a long gallery conducted us to the private apartments of the Sultan; and on every side were graceful fountains of white marble, whose flashing waters fell with a musical sound into their sculptured basins. In one, the stream trickled from a plume of feathers wrought in alabaster; and so delicately worked that they almost appeared to bend beneath the weight of the sparkling drops—in another, the stream gushed forth, overflowing a lotus-flower, upon whose lip sported a group of Cupids. The private apartments, which separated the harem from the state wing of the Palace, were the very embodiment of luxurious comfort; two of them were lined with wicker-work painted cream colour; the prettiest possible idea, executed in the best possible style.
The harem was, of course, a sealed book; for, as the ladies of the Sultan’s household have never been allowed to indulge their curiosity bya survey of that portion of the Palace appropriated to Mahmoud himself, it can scarcely be expected that any intruder should be admitted beyond the jealously-barred door forming their own boundary.
The Bath was beautiful. As we passed the crimson door with its crescent-shaped cornice, we entered a small hall in which two swans, the size of life, and wrought in pure white marble, were pouring forth the water that supplies the cold stream necessary to the bathers. The cooling-room was richly hung with embroidered draperies; and the mirror was surmounted by the Ottoman arms wrought in gold and enamel. The Bath itself realized a vision of the Arabian Nights, with its soft, dreamy twilight, its pure and glittering whiteness, and its exquisitely imagined fountains—and the subdued effect of our voices, dying away in indistinct murmurs in the distance, served to heighten the illusion.
Altogether, the Summer Palace of Sultan Mahmoud is as fair within, as without; and I have already said that it is the most elegant edifice on the Bosphorus.
The gardens, which rise to the summit of the steep height immediately behind the Seraï, are formed into terraces, each being under the direction of a foreign gardener, and laid out in the fashion of his own land. Thus there are aSpanish, an Italian, an English, a German, and a French garden. The deepest terrace is occupied by a fine sheet of water, called the Lake of the Swans, on which about thirty of these graceful birds, the Sultan’s peculiar favourites, were disporting themselves in the clear sunshine. Weeping willows, and other graceful trees, were mirrored in its calm bosom, and a couple of gaily-painted pleasure-boats were moored under the shadow of a magnificent magnolia.
About fifty yards from the water, stands a graceful edifice of white marble denominated the “Air Bath;” in which his Sublime Highness passes many a delicious hour during the summer heats. The saloon is paved, roofed, and lined with marble; and exquisitely imagined fountains fling their waters from the lotus leaves that are carved on the cornice of the apartment, through a succession of ocean-shells, fantastically grouped, and delicately chiselled, which divide the stream into a hundred slender threads, and ultimately pour their volume into the basins, whence it escapes to the lake without, keeping up a continual current of cool air, and murmur of sweet sound, which produce an effect almost magical. In the centre of this saloon, whence several inferior apartments branch off on either side, stands a magnificent vase of verd-antique, about eight feet in height; apresent to the Sultan from the Emperor Nicholas.
The hill is crowned by a gilded kiosk, glittering among cypresses and plane trees; and the whole establishment is more like a fairy creation, than the result of human invention and labour.
On the morrow, we decided on paying another visit to the Seraï Bournou; as the following day was that fixed for our departure. But alas! when that morrow came, we had reason to congratulate ourselves on having already penetrated beyond the “Golden Gate;” for the waves of the channel were running mountain high, and the opposite coast was lost in a dense vapour of sleet and rain. The disappointment was extreme; but, as there was no alternative, we were compelled to submit. For once “our star was bankrupt;” and we were fain to console ourselves with the reflection that our last day in Asia had been so worthily spent.
The Bosphorus in Mist—The Ferdinando Primo—Embarkation—Tardy Passengers—The Black Sea—The Turkish Woman—Varna—Visit to the Pasha—Rustem Bey—Mustapha Najib Pasha—Turkish Gallantry—The Lines—Sunset Landscape—Bulgarian Colonies—Discomforts of a Deck Passage.
I neverbeheld the Bosphorus to less advantage than on the morning of our departure from Constantinople; for, as if to lessen our regrets on leaving it, its shores were concealed by mists formed of small light rain, which effectually veiled their beauty. As cloud after cloud rolled by, each succeeded by a denser and darker vapour than its predecessor, we lost sight of every accustomed object; and, though I flung back the casement, and turned “a last, long, lingering look” along the channel, I was unable to distinguish even the most prominent points of view.
The steam vesselFerdinando Primo, in which we had secured our passage, was to arrive at Yenikeuÿ at mid-day; and we spent the earlier hours of the morning with some Greek friendswhose summer residence overhung the stream; and from whose windows we had hitherto been enabled to see the fairy-like Palace of Beglierbey, and the hill-seated Castle of Mahomet. But, alas! for our parting associations—the gilded glories of the Imperial Seraï, and the ancient towers of the Prophet’s Fortress, were alike invisible; despite the glitter of the one, and the whitewash which had recently been profusely and provokingly lavished on the time-tinted walls of the other.
Onward crept the mist as the day advanced; and at length the opposite shore became veiled by a vapour so dense that even the little village of Sultanïè, immediately facing the terrace, disappeared; and nothing was distinguishable through the darkness save the foamy crests of the waves, as they were driven onward by the force of the current; and the white gleam of the seagull’s extended wings, as he dipped his bosom for an instant in the troubled waters, and then rose, with a wild cry, into the murky atmosphere.
It was an hour of tears; and I am not quite sure whether at the moment I repined that no garish sun shone forth to mock them; while I am nevertheless certain that a more comfortless sensation never oppressed me, than that with which I contemplated the approach of the vessel through the turbid waves; her column of sablesmoke lending a deeper tint to the angry clouds; and her prow dashing aside the current in streaks of foam. As she lay-to in front of the house, we hurried into the caïque that was already freighted with our luggage; turned a last look towards the kind ones who thronged the terrace in despite of the fast-falling rain; and pushed out into the channel.
When we reached the packet, we were miserably wet, and had to despatch our cloaks, shawls, and coats to the engine-room to dry; while our trunks and portmanteaux were lifted dripping upon the deck, giving the last touch of discomfort to our embarkation for a long and tedious voyage. In one respect I was, however, fortunate; as, from being the only lady on board, (and, indeed, the first who had yet undertaken the passage) I found myself in possession of a commodious and comfortably arranged cabin; well fitted with every requisite for lessening the inconvenience of ship-board.
In twenty minutes we were off Therapia; and in ten more we entered the Bay of Buyukdèrè. By the time we reached this point, the fog had deepened so much as to render it uncertain whether we should be enabled to leave the Bosphorus until the following morning; a resolution to which the Russian steamer, the Nicholas I., had already come the more readily, as she had on board the mother and sister of Madame de Boutinieff, who were not anxious to tempt the perils of the Black Sea at so unpropitious a moment. Mr. Ellis, our late Ambassador in Persia, was also among her passengers; and, like the ladies, he was quietly preparing for a comfortable dinner at the Russian Palace.
As we lay alongside, these tidings were communicated by the Captain of the Nicholas, who naturally endeavoured to induce our own to follow his example, and remain in the bay until daylight; but the Commander of the Ferdinand had too much energy to yield to the suggestion; and at seven o’clock in the evening, the weather having somewhat moderated, he summoned on board one of his passengers who had delayed his embarkation until the last moment, and set the steam on; when away we went to the great chagrin of the rival establishment: leaving behind us two or three of the deck passengers who had failed to pay attention to the signals which were made to announce to them our instant departure.
Our party was a pleasant one. We had a Prussian Baron, tall, serious, and highly-bred; a German noble, gay, voluble, andtant soit peu gourmand; a Colonel of the Coldstream Guards; an Hungarian Cavalier, holding a distinguished rank in the Austrian service; a Russian-Greek Artist, bound on a tour of Italy, and full of enthusiasm both for himself and his art; the Captain of the Levant Steam-boat,on a survey of the Danube Navigation; my father, and myself. The deck was crowded with Turks, Greeks, and Jews; and among the rest by some poor old Turkish women on their way to Varna; and a couple of pretty young Greek girls bound for Galatz.
All went on tolerably well until a couple of hours had elapsed, when one by one all the party began to disappear. The rude billows of the Black Sea replaced the comparatively smooth channel of the Bosphorus,—the light-houses of Fanaraki loomed through the fog,—we were fairly “at sea,”—and the spray began to fall in showers over the paddle-boxes, inundating all the shivering Orientals who had spread their mats and mattresses on that part of the deck.
I never beheld a more perfect picture of wretchedness than one old Turkish woman, who, having resisted all the kindly attempts of the Captain to induce her to change her position, and having been fairly soaked through by a succession of the heavy seas which we were constantly shipping, at length permitted herself to be removed, and led aft to the tiller; where she instantly buried herself among the folds of the wet awning that had been flung there out of the way, and resigned herself to her misery.
NEAR FANARAKI IN ASIA.Miss Pardoe del.Day & Haghe Lith.rsto the King.NEAR FANARAKI IN ASIA.Henry Colburn, 13 G.tMarlborough St 1837.
What a night we passed! I thought that it would never end; and what rueful faces I encountered in the morning, when with some difficulty, and a great deal of assistance I draggedmyself on deck! The wind was directly in our teeth; and as the vessel rolled from side to side, we continued to suffer direfully from the violence of the motion. It was an unspeakable relief when, at half past four in the afternoon, we anchored off Varna, where we were to land three hundred bags of coffee; and where Colonel H——, Captain F——, my father, and myself accompanied the Captain of the Ferdinand on shore, to pay a visit to the Pasha.
The surf was breaking so violently against the pier that we were for a few moments undecided as to the most eligible spot on which to land,—nor was it without difficulty that we ultimately effected our purpose; and almost immediately on entering the main street of the town, we encountered Rustem Bey, the Commandant, a fine, intelligent young Italian Officer in the service of the Porte, who speaks several European languages, as well as the Turkish, most fluently; and who would ere this have been created a Pasha, could he have been induced to embrace Islamism.
The answer that he is reported to have made when the terms of his promotion were explained to him, is worthy of record; “I feel all the honour which I refuse; but I am nevertheless compelled to forego it—I can dispose of my services, but I am not at liberty to sell my conscience.”
Under his guidance we traversed the town,and passed the ruined citadel, on our way to the Palace of Mustapha Najib Pasha, the present governor; who was removed from his post at Tripoli, in order to take possession of this important charge. The Palace is a handsome and somewhat extensive modern building, commanding, from one of its fronts, an excellent view of the fortifications; and separated only by a high wall from the barracks, which are capable of accommodating several thousand men.
With an extent of courtesy unusual in the East, Najib Pasha received us standing; and welcomed us with the cordialBouroum, as he motioned us to the sofa on which he had himself been sitting. He is a remarkably animated looking man of about five and forty, with a quick eye, and a most agreeable smile. He was surrounded by papers; and beside the chibouk that he had been smoking, lay a small model for mounting guns upon their carriages.
The most costly pipes were introduced for the gentlemen, and offered to myself; and the procession of “blue-coated serving men” was quite amusing, as they entered with the long chibouk in one hand, and in the other the little brass dish, in which, as they knelt, they deposited the bowl of the pipe. Coffee succeeded, and was replaced by raisin sherbet; and as we shortly afterwards expressed our desire to see the fortifications, we were instantly offered horses to enable us to ride round the lines. Thegentlemen were thus provided for at once; but, as I was not prepared for such an excursion, I was about to resign myself to what I considered an inevitable disappointment, when the Pasha courteously expressed his regret that he could not provide me with an European saddle; and begged me to accept his carriage as a substitute. I gladly availed myself of his kindness; and while the equipage was preparing, listened with as much surprise as interest to the conversation with which he beguiled the time. Among other things, he mentioned his extreme disappointment at the non-receipt from Europe of some able works on fortification that he had been long expecting; and expressed his earnest desire to possess models of all the new inventions tending to perfect the works upon which he was engaged. He inquired whether he could offer to us any thing that would be acceptable on board; and even enumerated milk, fruits, and sweetmeats, which he pressed upon us with an earnestness perfectly demonstrative of his sincerity.
On our rising to take leave, he said that he should expect us back to dinner, and that he would cause it to be prepared against our return; and he appeared much hurt at our assurance of the impossibility of our availing ourselves of his hospitality. As we were preparing to make our parting salutation, he left the room, andmoved forward to the head of the stairs; where he saluted us individually as we passed him, in the kindest and most gracious manner, wishing us a fortunate voyage, and assuring us of the pleasure that he had derived from our visit.
A troop of servants followed us to the door; where we found thekavashlirof the Pasha stationed on either side the entrance to do us honour. But a still more agreeable object was the German Britscha drawn by four gray Tatar horses, which was awaiting me at the Palace gate. The carriage held forth such goodly promise, that Colonel H—— and Rustem Bey only were firm in their original purpose of riding round the lines; the rest of the party immediately being of opinion that they should prefer a drive. Nor had they any reason to repent the arrangement, for the spirited little Tatars carried us along at a surprising pace over all the rough and uneven ground, and through all the ditches of the neighbourhood, as though they had been cantering across a bowling-green. The fortifications are proceeding rapidly, and most creditably; five thousand men are constantly employed on the works, and the number is occasionally doubled.
As the evening was closing in ere we regained the town, the scene was extremely singular. The huts of the Bulgarian labourers, built of branches, and huddled together in clusters, were revealedby the camp-fires that blazed up among them, and revealed the flitting figures of those who were engaged in the culinary preparations of the little colonies to which they belonged; while the appearance of the carriage drew to the entrances of their primitive dwellings all the unoccupied inhabitants of the temporary village.
Upon its outskirts herds of cattle were to be seen, slowly returning from their mountain pastures to the vicinity of the town; and driven by ragged urchins, with sheepskin caps and gaiters. The sun, meanwhile, was setting gloriously; and the outline of the fortifications cut darkly against a background of orange and crimson clouds, that stretched far along the west, and were pillowed upon two dark and stately mountains. Altogether the scene was one of enchantment; and I believe that there was not an individual of the party who did not regret the necessity of exchanging it for the “floating prison” that awaited us on the Euxine: and which we regained under a heavy swell that rendered our passage from the shore the very reverse of agreeable.
During our visit, the deck of the Ferdinand had been nearly cleared of its passengers; and the poor old Turkish woman whom I have already mentioned, had, with some difficulty, crawled forth from her awning, shivering withcold, and looking the very picture of wretchedness. I had endeavoured in vain during the day to induce her to bathe her hands and feet with brandy; for she no sooner smelt it than she put it from her, exclaiming, “Sin—sin;” nor could I prevail on her to follow my advice. The only thing that she would receive was a cup of coffee, and on that she seized as a famishing man would have clutched food. It was really a relief to me when I saw her safely embarked on board the boat which was to land her at Varna.
On our departure from Buyukdèrè, we had been half amused and half annoyed by the efforts of a young Turkish officer, to appear unconcerned at the rough treatment that we were experiencing from the tempest-chafed waves of the Black Sea. He sang, he shouted, he tossed his arms above his head, and yelled forth hisMashallahsat every roll of the vessel; but ere we had been tossing about many hours, the exulting tones died away in a querulous treble, which announced that his exultation was destined to be short-lived; and on the morrow I remarked that he walked the deck with a step as tremulous as that of a lady; and was one of the first to make his escape on shore.
The two little Greek girls who were bound for Galatz were still lying upon the deck, rolled in their fur pelisses: in that state of hopeless and resigned misery which is the last stage of seanausea; and when we retired for the night their young brother was sitting beside them, with a pale cheek and heavy eyes, as though he, too, had not escaped a portion of their suffering.
The Danube—Cossack Guard—Moldavian Musquitoes—Tultzin—Galatz—Plague-Conductors—Prussian Officer—Excursion to Silistria—Amateur Boatmen—Wretched Hamlet—The Lame Baron—The Salute—Silistrian Peasants—A Pic-Nic in the Wilds—The Tortoise—Canoes of the Danube—The Moldavian State-Barge—Picturesque Boatmen—The Water Party—Painful Politeness—Visit of the Hospodar—Suite of His Highness—Princely Panic—The Pannonia.
Atthree o’clock on the following day, we entered the Ghiurchevi mouth of the Danube, which is only two hundred fathoms in width; and extremely difficult of access for sailing vessels. The shores at this opening are low, marshy, and treeless, presenting as desolate an appearance as can well be conceived; and are only relieved at intervals of about a mile, by the rude mud huts of thecordon sanitaireof Cossacks, placed along the Moldavian coast to enforce the quarantaine. The appearance of these reed-roofed hovels was beyond expression wretched; and the long lances of the guard, stuck into the earth along the front of the tenement, and the apparition of a mounted Cossack appearing and disappearing among the tall reedswhich were the solitary produce of the land, were almost requisite to convince us that they could really be the habitations of human beings.
Beside many of these hovels an extraordinary erection attracted our attention; it consisted of four tall wooden stakes driven into the ground, and supporting, at about the height of eight feet from the earth, a small platform of wicker-work, thatched in some two feet higher; which we ascertained were constructed as sleeping-places, wherein the unhappy dwellers in the Moldavian marshes took refuge against the clouds of musquitoes that infest the Danube; and which, being of immense size, inflict a sting that is far from contemptible. Fortunately for their human victims, these voracious insects fly low, never trusting themselves to the current of wind that, as it sweeps along, might overcome their strength of wing; and thus this solitary medium of escape from their virulence is adopted all along the river.
At ten o’clock at night, we arrived off Tultzin, where we remained only an hour; and then profited by the moonlight to pursue our voyage to Galatz, which we reached at five in the morning, and anchored beside the Quarantaine ground; a small space railed off for the exclusive use of the steam company, and separated from the road leading into the town by a double palisading of wood about breast-high.
Here commenced our land miseries! We were looked upon as a society of plague-conductors, and treated accordingly. Parties of the Galatzians collected along the outer fence to contemplate the infected ones whose contact they dreaded; and meanwhile we enjoyed the privilege of walking up and down an avenue formed of coals on the one side, and tallow packed into skins on the other.
We were visited at the palisades by the British and Austrian Consuls; and by a Prussian gentleman, who, on our arrival at Constantinople, had been in the service of the Sultan, which he had now exchanged for that of the Hospodar of Moldavia. We had made his acquaintance at the Military College, and he had been long on the look-out for us at Galatz.
He appeared perfectly satisfied with his new speculation, and talked much of his enjoyment of the liberty of this new locality; a liberty in which we were unfortunately not permitted to share. And such being the case, we bade adieu to our friends on the town side of the fence; and, after having ascertained that the Pannonia steamer, which should have been on the spot ready to receive us, would not reach Galatz until late at night, we determined on rowing across to the opposite shore of Silistria, in order to relieve ourennui.
Bread and wine having been provided, weaccordingly prepared for our excursion; the captain’s gig was lowered; and I had the honour of being rowed across the Danube by the most aristocratic boat’s crew that had probably ever “caught crabs” in its muddy waters; all the seamen belonging to the vessel being employed in lading and unlading merchandize.
Nothing could exceed the wretchedness of the little hamlet that was seated along the edge of a creek, into which we passed when we had gained the Silistrian side of the river. The low hovels, rudely built of mud, and roofed with reeds, were lighted by windows of oiled lambskin; the floors were of earth; and nothing more cheerful than twilight could penetrate into the single apartment which served for “kitchen, and parlour, and hall.” Not the slightest attempt at a garden was visible, though the village stood upon the verge of an extensive wild, stretching away far as the eye could reach, and covered with redundant, although stunted, vegetation. The ground-ash, the caper-tree, the gum-cistus, the wild hollyhock, the flag-reed, and the water-willow were abundant; while patches of white clover and vetches were scattered about in every direction.
As the Baron E—— was lame, and unable to undertake a long walk, he with some difficulty procured a horse that had just been released from a waggon, the ragged peasant to whom it belongednot being proof against the sight of a purse, which was shook before him as the most efficient language that could be employed to enforce the demand: and, when the laughing German had mounted the packsaddle, armed with his meerschaum and cane, and grasped the knotted rope that served as a substitute for a bridle, he was by no means the least picturesque of the party.
We had not long pursued the path leading to the village whither we were bound, when we heard the salute fired at mid-day by the Ferdinand, in honour of His Highness the Hospodar of Moldavia, who chanced to be residing temporarily at Galatz; and to whom, as he was particularly solicitous to facilitate by every means in his power the local arrangements of the steam-company, they were careful to pay all due honour; and indeed somewhat more, as they gave him a salute of one-and-twenty guns, that came booming along the wild through which we were wandering, and echoing over the waters of the little stream that bordered it; startling the birds by which the river-willows were tenanted, and dispelling momently the deep silence of the wide solitude.
When, after a walk of considerable length, we reached the hamlet that was the object of our excursion, we excited universal attention and astonishment among the women and children who crowded the cottage doors, and who wereuniversally clad in coarse white linen; the females wearing huge silver earrings, round bracelets of coloured glass, and rings of every dimension. All were barefooted; and the children, who huddled together in groups to gaze upon the passing strangers, were wretched-looking little mortals, with their light hair hanging in elf-locks about their ears, and their rags fluttering in the breeze. The hovels were universally built of mud, and roofed with reeds and the long leaves of the Indian-corn; with chimneys of basket-work. In short, I never beheld a more thorough demonstration of the fact that human necessities actually exceed but little those of the inferior animals, and that the thousand wants which grow up around civilization are merely factitious. These isolated individuals were scantly and coarsely clothed; fed almost entirely upon vegetables and the black wheaten bread, of which the grain was grown in their own gardens; Indian corn that supplied them at once with food, fuel, and bedding; lodged in hovels better suited to cattle than to human beings: and yet they were not merely healthful and happy, but, as I have already noticed, they had their innocent vanities, and indulged in all the glories of coloured glass trinkets.
The only men whom we saw in the hamlet were engaged in packing water-melons into the wicker bullock-cars destined to convey them tothe market at Galatz; and of some of these we immediately possessed ourselves. A shawl flung over the tall stems of some flag-reeds, and propped by a rake, was soon converted into an awning for me, and we made a most primitive and delicious meal, seated on the fresh grass among the wild flowers. As we sauntered quietly back to the river-side, we collected some of the shells that had been driven up the creek by the river tide; and captured a fine tortoise that was sunning itself on the turf, which we carried on board; where we returned tolerably fatigued with our ramble in the wilds of Silistria.
We were amusing ourselves on deck after dinner by watching the passage of the canoes which the natives impel by a wooden paddle precisely after the manner of the Indians, when we observed half a dozen men rushing down upon a little wooden pier immediately under the stern of the Ferdinand, where we had previously remarked two gaudy-looking boats, painted in immense stripes of red and blue. Nor were the group who sprang into the largest of them less remarkable than the boats themselves; and we had some difficulty in persuading ourselves that they were the boatmen of the Prince, and not a party of Tyrolean ballet-dancers. They wore broad flapped hats, bound by a ribbon of red and blue, hanging in long ends upon their shoulders, and ornamented in front by a large M, workedin gold: their shirts and trowsers were of white, with braces and garters of red and blue; while wide scarlet sashes, fringed at the extremities, completed their costume. The Moldavian banner was hastily affixed to the stern of the boat; and then a party of servants thronged the pier, who were succeeded by a couple of aides-de-camp, and a grave elderly gentleman in an oriental dress; and lastly arrived the Princess, a middle-aged, plain-looking person, attended by three ladies, who were duly cloaked and shawled by the obsequious aides-de-camp.
During this process the guns of the Ferdinand were once more prepared; and the fantastically-clad boatmen had not dipped their oars thrice into the stream, and Her Highness the Hospodaresswas yet under the stern of the ship, when bang went the first gun, with a flash and a peal that somewhat discomposed her nerves; and she raised her arm deprecatingly towards the Captain, who stood bare-headed near the wheel; but the gesture was unheeded.
“She wishes you to desist, Captain Everson;” I remarked, as I detected the action.
“Can’t help that, Ma’am;” answered the commander of the Ferdinand: “she’s the Prince’s wife; and she shall have her thirteen guns, whether she likes them or not.”
She “had” them accordingly, and they were fired in excellent style; while the two boats ofthe Principality flaunted their party-coloured glories across to the other shore. I do not know whether Her Highness anticipated the probability of being compelled to “smell powder” on her return, as well as on her departure; but it is certain that she did not land near the Ferdinand when she repassed to the Moldavian side of the river.
On the following morning, it was announced to us that His Highness the Hospodar intended to honour the vessel with a visit; and we were particularly requested to avoid coming in contact with himself or suite, lest we might bequeath the plague to his Principality in return for his politeness. Of course we promised compliance; and as the Pannonia had not yet made her appearance, we were glad of any excitement to relieve the tedium of our detention. At eleven o’clock the wretched drums and fifes of the garrison announced that the Prince was approaching. The guard at the entrance of the quarantaine ground was turned out; officers, covered with tags, aiguilettes, and embroidery passed and repassed the palisade; a crowd of idlers lined the road; the Tyrolean boatmen were once more at their post; the trading vessels in the port, which were lading with wheat, had their decks clean washed, and their colours hoisted.—In short, the harbour of Galatz was in the full enjoyment of “a sensation,” when thegates of the enclosure were thrown back, and into the infected space walked His Highness, a little sandy-haired man, with huge whiskers and mustachioes, perfectly matched in tint to the enormous pair of golden epaulettes that he wore on a plain blue frock coat.—On his right stood his Russian Dragoman, covered with a dozen ribbons, clasps, and medals; who never opened his mouth without lifting his cap, and uttering “Mon Prince” in an accent of the most fulsome adulation: and on his left walked his physician, a fine young man of very gentlemanlike manners and appearance. Immediately behind him came the Moldavian Minister of the Interior, all furs and wadded silk; and the procession was closed by a score of Aides-de-camp, Officers of the Household, and hangers-on.
The party remained a considerable time in the quarantaine-enclosure ere they came on board; and I suspect that His Highness began to repent that he had volunteered so perilous a visit; but as it was too late to recede, he at length ventured to trust “Caesar and his fortunes” to the temporary keeping of the Plague-ship; and advancing to the stern of the vessel where our party were standing, he very graciously expressed his regret that he could not avail himself, as he should have been delighted to do, of our presence in the Principality, by claiming us as guests during our stay, owing to the unhappy prevalence of plague in the country that we had left. After this he talked very solemnly of the necessity of strictly observing the quarantaine; made two or three more bows in a peculiarly ungraceful style; declined the champaigne that had been prepared for him in the great cabin; and made his exit with infinitely more alacrity than he had made his entry; only pausing in the enclosure to lift his hat as the first gun was fired, of the salute which celebrated his visit.
When His Highness had departed, and that the last scene of this Moldavian comedy had been enacted, we had nothing left to do but to walk the deck, and contemplate the muddiest-looking of all rivers. Unlike the Pasha of Varna, the Hospodar made no inquiry into our wants and wishes, and no offer of the local milk and honey that might have tended to increase our comfort on board; although the Captain of the Ferdinand sent him a bushel basket of magnificent grapes, which, after they had been subjected to repeated immersion, were declared to be non-conductors, and were admitted topratiqueaccordingly.
It was not until five o’clock in the afternoon of the second day, that the Pannonia anchored beside us; and, as she had to take her coals on board, she could not sail until eight and forty hours after her arrival. The transfer of passengers did not take place until late on the morrow; for when the inferiority of her accommodations became apparent, we of the Ferdinand were in no haste to change our quarters.
We had left Constantinople in a fine, well-kept ship; where a barrier was erected which preserved the after-deck from the intrusion of the inferior passengers: and where the cabins were comfortably fitted up, and supplied in the most liberal manner with every thing that could contribute to the convenience of their occupants; and, although we were quite prepared for less space in the Pannonia, from the fact of her being merely a river boat, we were by no means satisfied on discovering the confusion that existed on her decks; where groups of dirty Turks, and noisy Greeks, were squatted from her funnel to her stern; blocking up the path of the cabin-passengers, and filling their clothes with vermin, and their atmosphere with the fumes of bad tobacco; nor the cheerless discomfort below, where not even a washing-stand had been provided; and we were suddenly thrown upon our own resources for all those little comforts, that from the arrangement of the vessel in which we left the port of Constantinople, we were entitled to expect throughout the voyage. Thus much for the disarray of the Pannonia; and I mention it in order to prepare future travellers on the Danube not to be misled, as we ourselveswere by the satisfactory aspect of the Ferdinand, into a belief that such will continue to gladden them on the river; while on the other hand I am bound in justice to add that the table is infinitely better served than that of the first vessel; a fact that may perhaps compensate to many individuals for the absence of those personal comforts of which our own party so bitterly felt the want.
Nor must I omit to make honourable mention of theartisteto whom this department was confided. An Italian by birth, and a wit by nature, as well as a cook by profession, we were indebted to him and his guitar for many a pleasant hour that would otherwise have passed heavily enough. As the dusk grew into darkness, he used to come upon deck with his instrument, and sing Neapolitanbuffosongs, with a spirit andgustothat almost convulsed us with laughter. And as we stood about him, listening to his minstrelsy, and looking on the bright moonlight silvering along the river-tide, where it was not overshadowed by the tall trees that fringed the bank beside which we were gliding; and startling with our somewhat noisy merriment the deep silence of those scantily-peopled shores; the effect upon my mind was most extraordinary.
Hirsova—Russian Relics—Town of Silistria—Bravery of the Turks—Village of Turtuki—Group of Pelicans—Glorious Sunset—Ruschuk—Cheapness of Provisions—The Wallachian Coast—Bulgaria—Dense Fog—Orava—Roman Bath—Green Frogs—Widdin—Kalifet—Scala Glavoda—Custom House Officers—Disembarkation—Wallachian Mountains—A Landscape Sketch—Costume of the Servian Peasantry—The Village Belle—Primitive Carriages—The Porte de Fer—The Crucifix—Magnificent Scenery—Fine Ores.
Athalf past eleven in the morning we were off Hirsova, where we embarked some more deck-passengers, greatly to our annoyance and discomfort. The few straggling villages that we had passed since our departure from Galatz were of the most wretched description; and Hirsova itself is in a ruined state, having been besieged and taken by the Russians after a gallant resistance of fifty days. It is situated in a gorge between two rocks, and on the lower of the two stand the ruins of the Turkish fortress, of which only a few crumbling walls and a solitary buttress now remain. This fortress was unfortunately commanded by the opposite height on which the Russians threw up fortifications, under whose cover they kept up an incessant fire upon the town and the fort, and ultimately destroyed both. Scores of balls are still imbedded in thebank of the river, and along the shore; and, knowing what I do of the Turks, I have no doubt that it would be impossible to prevail on them to touch them, even for the purposes of traffic.
Wherever the boat stopped, crowds of the peasantry flocked to the edge of the water, and stood gazing at her in admiring wonder; for, as this was only her twelfth voyage, their curiosity and astonishment had not yet subsided. From Hirsova the landscape began to improve on the Bulgarian side. Groups of trees just touched with the first autumnal tints; and at intervals a glimpse of higher land in the distance, relieved the eye.
At two o’clock in the morning we arrived at Silistria, a small town surrounded by outworks, and celebrated for the brave resistance of its garrison of twelve thousand men, to an army of fifty thousand Russians. A resistance so obstinate, or I should rather say, so heroic, as to endure for nine long months; and to be terminated only by the utter destruction of the town, and the partial demolition of its defences. Ruin still cowers among its desolate dwellings, and Silistria is now peopled only by three thousand inhabitants; but it has earned for itself a place in the page of history, which could not be more worthily filled up.
At half past two in the afternoon we were off Turtuki; a very extensive village, presentinga most singular appearance; almost every cottage having a large haystack within the little garden fence, as large as the dwelling itself; and many of the cottages being hollowed in the rock; while strings of red capsicums wreathed most of the doorways, and gave a holyday aspect to the scene. A numerous population thronged the shore and the streets, who only paused in their several occupations for a moment as we passed, to watch our progress; and then resumed their primitive occupation of reed-thatching the cottages, or driving forth their cattle to the high lands in search of pasturage.
Such herds of horses, oxen, buffaloes, and pigs; such flocks of goats and sheep, as are scattered along the whole of the Bulgarian shore, I never saw in my life! The land in the immediate vicinity of Turtuki was highly cultivated, and abounded in corn-fields and vineyards; giving evidence of much greater energy and industry in its peasantry than any locality that we had yet witnessed. About half a mile above the village a row of water-mills, six in number, were moored across the current; each mill was supported on two floating barges of very curious construction, and as they were all at work they presented a singular appearance.
Shortly after we had passed Turtuki, we saw about twenty pelicans congregated on a bar of sand which projected into the river. And duringthe day we remarked several eagles on the wing; and numbers of the beautiful white aigrette herons, whose gleaming plumage glistened in the sunshine.
I never beheld a more glorious sunset than on this evening. We had passed several wooded islands, fringed with river-willows, and forming points of view that almost appeared to have been artificially produced; and we were just sailing past one of these, when the sun disappeared behind the high land by which it was backed, and shed over the sky tints so richly and so deeply marked, as to make the river-ripple sparkle like liquid gems; and to give to the stream the appearance of diluted amethysts and topaz. At this moment a sudden bend in the Danube brought us beneath a rock crowned with the crumbling ruins of a Genoese castle, at whose base a flock of goats were browsing on the green underwood that clothed its fissures. Nothing more was requisite to complete the beauty of the picture; and from this moment we all began to entertain hopes of an improvement in the aspect of the country through which we had yet to pass.
The next town we reached was Ruschuk, which is of considerable extent, walled, and surrounded by a ditch. It contains only three thousand inhabitants, though it formerly boasted thirty thousand, but exhibits no symptom of that desolationwe had remarked in several other towns on the river. It possesses nine mosques; and its main street is wider and more carefully paved than any in Constantinople. Its principal trade is in salt from Olenitza, sugar, iron, and manufactured goods; its exports are livestock, grain, wool, and timber; and its industry comprises sail-making by the women, and boat-building by the men.
The extreme cheapness of food at Ruschuk struck me so much that I took some pains to ascertain the price of the most common articles of consumption; and I subjoin the result of my inquiries as a positive curiosity. Eggs were two hundred for a shilling—fowls were considered exorbitant; and the high value which they constantly maintained was accounted for by the fact that the market of Constantinople was in a great degree supplied from thence; they were twopence each—ducks and geese, from the same cause, cost two pence halfpenny; turkeys averaged tenpence, being a favourite food with the Orientals; beef three halfpence the oke, of two pounds and three quarters; mutton the same price—the wine of the country one piastre the quart—grapes a halfpenny the oke; melons and pasteks of immense size, three farthings each; bread equally cheap, but bad.
Shortly after leaving Ruschuk, I was amused for a considerable time in watching some cormorants that were diving for fish; while everysand in the shallows of the river was covered with hundreds of blue plover. Wild ducks and geese also flew past the vessel in clouds; and we purchased small sturgeon and sword-fish from a boat with which we came in contact.
The Wallachian coast still continued to present one swampy and uninteresting flat, save at distant intervals, when a scattered and treeless village, built upon the slope of a slight rise, broke for an instant upon its tame monotony. But Bulgaria grew in beauty as we approached its boundary. Noble hills, well clothed with trees gay in all the rainbow tints of autumn, and contrasting the deep rich umber hues of the fading beech, and the bright yellow of the withering walnut, with the gay red garlands of the wild vine, which flung its ruby-coloured wreaths from tree to tree, linking them together in one glowing wreath—Snug little villages, with each its tiny fleet of fishing-boats, and its sandy shore covered with groups of gazers; the better classes clad after the Asiatic fashion—the men wearing their turbans large and gracefully arranged, and the women suffering the yashmac to hang nearly to their feet above the dark feridjhe; and the poorer among them clad in shapeless woollen garments, and high caps of black sheep skin—Herds of horses bounding over the hills in all the graceful hilarity of freedom—Droves of buffaloes lying in the deep mud ofthe river, basking in the sunshine—Vineyards overshadowed by fruit trees; Fields neatly fenced from the waste, and rich with vegetables and grain, in turn varied the prospect; nor had we wearied of the scene when, at two o’clock,P.M., we arrived at Sistoff, a small, but flourishing town; with the ruin of an old castle perched on a height immediately above it. Here, greatly to our satisfaction, we landed most of our deck passengers; and a little after seven in the evening we found ourselves abreast of Nicopolis; but owing to the darkness we could only trace the outline of the town as it cut against the horizon, and discovered that it was tolerably extensive, and surrounded by high bluff lands.
Having been detained several hours by the fog, which was extremely dense at daybreak, we did not reach Orava until near mid-day. This town, which was destroyed by the Russians during the reign of Catherine, appears to be of considerable extent; but is only partially fortified. It possesses five or six mosques, some of which are scarcely visible from the river, owing to the very high land that intervenes between a portion of the town and the shore. The ruins of an old castle on the summit of a rock, and of a Roman bath on the water’s edge, give a picturesque effect to the locality. Some hours later we anchored on the Wallachian side to take in coals, which were obtained from Hungary,and said to be of very excellent quality; the little enclosure that contained them was situated close to one of the sanatory stations, and we were not permitted to approach within a hundred yards of the white-coated Wallachians. We revenged ourselves, however, by wandering over the plain, gathering wild flowers and blackberries; and giving chase to some of the most beautiful little green frogs that ever were seen—they looked like leaping leaves! Eight pelicans passed us on the wing during the day.
Another dense fog prevented our progress after seven in the evening, as the pilot refused to incur the responsibility of the vessel; and we accordingly anchored until three o’clock the following morning, when we started again in a bright flood of moonlight; and in about four hours we arrived opposite to Widdin, where we anchored. It is a large and handsome town, strongly fortified with a double line of works of great importance. The fortifications are in good order, and extend, as we are told, about twelve hundred yards along the bank of the river; while the lines on the landward side are kept with equal care, and are of similar extent. The walls are protected by four strong bastions; and the guns are all said to be in an efficient state. The Pasha’s Palace, based on the outer walls, looks as bleak and comfortless as a barrack; but its windows command a noble view of the river. The minarets of twelve orfourteen mosques relieve the outline of the picture; and, immediately opposite, on the Wallachian side, stands the low, flat, rambling town of Kalefat, whence the country assumes a new and more interesting character. A graceful curve in the river carried us past the quarantaine establishment; a group of wretched buildings erected close to the water’s edge, and enclosed within a rude wooden paling, backed by a lofty cliff that runs far along the shore, riven into a thousand fantastic shapes; while here and there we had distant glimpses of cultivated valleys and wooded hills.
The aspect of the country improved throughout the whole day; abrupt and precipitous heights, wooded to the very summits—stretches of corn and pasture land—multitudinous herds of cattle—and laughing plains, gay with grass and wild flowers, flitted rapidly by; while the bold cloud-crested mountains above Orsoru formed a noble background to the picture. At noon we were abreast of Florentin, the last Bulgarian village on the bank of the river; and decidedly the most picturesque locality on the Lower Danube. The hamlet was nestled beneath a rock, three of whose sides were washed by the river, while the fourth was protected by a deep ditch; and the tall, bluff, perpendicular rock itself was crowned by a Gothic castle, whose gray outline, apparently nearly perfect, cut sharply against the sky; and completed a tableau sostrikingly beautiful as to elicit an universal exclamation of delight.
We ran past Scala Glavoda in the night, from which circumstance I lost the opportunity of seeing Trajan’s Bridge, whose arches may be distinguished beneath the level of the water; and at midnight we anchored at a straggling village about half a league above it. Here we took leave of the Pannonia; and, as the river is not navigable for a considerable distance for any thing but flat-bottomed boats, whose wearisome course against the current is secured by the assistance of oxen, who tow them lazily on their way; we were obliged to proceed to Orsova by land. Custom-house officers came on board to examine the merchandize with which the vessel was freighted, but they did not interfere with the luggage of the passengers; and, as soon as bullock-cars had been secured, we despatched our packages on shore, whither we shortly followed them.
On the opposite shore rose the mountains of Wallachia, just touched upon their summits with the brilliant tints of the newly-risen sun, and clothed with many-coloured foliage. The hills, beside which we had passed during the previous day, had closed upon us in the rear; and the chain which terminates in thePorte de Fer, or Iron Door, a bar of rock that nearly traverses the Danube, and over which its waters toss and boil in impotent violence, shut in the forward view.
In the bottom of the gorge ran the river, whence arose the column of steam escaping from the chimney of the Pannonia; and the Servian shore was scattered over with the multifarious properties of the passengers. The village ran along the bank of the river, and consisted of log huts, most ingeniously constructed, lined with a cement formed of clay, and thatched, like those in Bulgaria, with reeds, and the straw of the Indian corn; interspersed with small tenements of wicker-work raised on poles, and serving as store-houses for fruits and grain.
The difference of costume between the peasantry of Servia and those of the adjoining country, was remarkably striking. The men had added a wide sash of rich scarlet to the dress of the Bulgarians, and wore their woollen greaves, and the sleeves of their shirts worked with dark-coloured worsteds; while the women were attired in the most singular manner that can well be imagined. They universally retained the wrapping-dress of white linen that we had remarked all along this shore of the Danube; but above it they had placed a couple of aprons of thick woollen stuff, striped or checked with dark blue; one of which they wore before, and the other behind, leaving the linen garment uncovered on either side to the waist; but their head-gear was yet more extraordinary, and, at the same time, singularly picturesque.
The younger among them wore their hair confined by a simple band across the forehead; to which were attached branches of bright-coloured flowers, such as marigolds, hollyhocks, and the blossoms of the scarlet bean; intermixed with strings of small silver coin, in greater or less quantities. I remarked that even the youngest of the girls, children of five and six years of age, were thus decorated; some of them not possessing, however, more than half a dozen little para pieces; and as each of these girls was twirling her distaff with all the gravity of a matron, I imagine that, precisely as the Asiatics accumulate strings of pearl by the slow produce of their industry, so, in like manner, the female peasantry of Servia increase their ornaments through the medium of their own individual exertions; and I was the more confirmed in this opinion, by observing that in every instance save one, the number of coins worn upon the head appeared to preserve an equal proportion with the years of the wearer.
The exception to which I allude was on the person of a young girl of about seventeen, from whose braided tresses coins of considerable size fell in every direction nearly to her waist; while her throat was encircled by a succession of the same ungraceful ornaments, descending like scale-armour low upon her bosom. There was an elastic spring in her movements, as her smallnaked feet pressed the sandy path; and an expression bordering upon haughtiness in her large dark eyes, which betrayed the daughter of the village chief. I would peril the value of every coin she wore that I read her fortune aright!
The elder women wore linen cloths bound about their heads with a grace which would have suited the draping of a statue; the long ends of the scarf being secured behind the ear, and forming deep folds that looked, at a short distance, as though they were hewn in marble; and above this drapery, rows of coins were disposed, helmet-wise, in such profusion that, as the sunlight glanced upon them, they were perfectly dazzling. Nor did the matrons dispense with the gaudy knots of flowers so general among their younger countrywomen; and the gay effect of a group of Servian females may consequently be imagined. Some among them were tolerably pretty; nearly all had fine bright black eyes, and they were universally erect and finely made; with a step and carriage at once firm and graceful.
Ranged along the road stood the line of bullock-waggons, intended for the transport of our luggage; and beside them a nondescript carriage of wicker-work drawn by two gray horses, for the accommodation of such of the party as preferred driving to walking. We were,however, some time before we were fairlyen route; and still longer before any one felt inclined to forego the pleasure of wandering through the long grass that bordered the edge of the plain, through which wound the road leading to Orsova.
For a brief interval we lost sight of the river, and continued to advance along the rude path, scaring the wild birds from their resting-places among the stunted branches of the dwarf oaks and beeches that clothed it; or thredding along the boundaries of the wide patches of Indian corn which had been redeemed from the waste. But as the day advanced, the heat became so great as to render any further progress on foot too fatiguing to be pleasurable; and four of our party accordingly taking possession of the carriage, we started at a brisk pace along the smooth and easy road; and after a precipitous descent, down which the horses galloped at a pace infinitely more speedy than safe, we found ourselves once more on the shore of the Danube, where it is separated in the centre by a long bar of sand, terminating in a small island of rock, now cumbered with the remnants of a ruined fortress.
Twenty minutes more brought us to thePorte de Fer; which does not, however, extend all across the river, as there is a sufficient width of sand left free of all rock, on the Servian side, to render the formation of a canal sufficientlyextensive to ensure the safe passage of moderately sized vessels extremely easy. Nothing in nature can be more lovely than the landscape at this point of the river; it is shut in on all sides by majestic rocks overgrown with forest trees; and tenanted by the wild boar, the wolf, and the bear. Eagles soar above their pinnacles; and singing birds make the air vocal at their base; while beneath them rushes the chafed and angry river, foaming and roaring over the line of rock that impedes the accustomed onward flow of its waters.
Another turn in the road, and the Danube is hidden from view by a wooded strip of land, which has forced a portion of the river from its natural channel, as if to accompany the traveller upon his way, as he follows the chain of rock along a road so narrow, that there is not half a foot of earth between the wheels of the carriage and the edge of the bank that is washed by the little stream; while delicious glimpses of the Danube are occasionally visible between the trunks of the tall trees that fringe the intervening islet.
About a quarter of a mile onward stands a Crucifix; the first symbol that we had yet remarked of Christianity; and which we hailed as the parched desert-wanderer welcomes the spring whereat he slakes his long-endured and withering thirst. It was erected beneath theshadow of a fine old beech tree; and immediately beside a crazy bridge flung across the channel of a mountain torrent. The scene increased in beauty as we proceeded. The great variety of tint among the forest foliage heightened the effect of the landscape; and I have rarely, if ever, seen a more gorgeous locality than that through which we travelled to Orsova. Nature had poured forth her treasures with an unsparing liberality; and every mountain-glen was a spot that a painter would have loved to look upon.
We passed through one straggling village, built like that at which we had landed, of timber and mud, where we stopped for a few moments to procure a glass of water; and I was agreeably impressed by the eager courtesy with which the request was met. A portion of the road proving too steep to enable the horses to drag us to the summit of the rise along which we had to pass, we descended from the carriage, and pursued our way on foot; when we were much struck by the appearance of the soil, impregnated as it was so strongly with metallic particles, that it had the appearance of diamond dust. I collected several specimens of ore that were truly beautiful; and I have no doubt, even from my own very slight geological knowledge, that a scientific person might find ample employment within a couple of miles of Orsova for at least as many months.