Chapter II (2)

Having now spent fourteen days very agreeably, being most kindly entertained by the Governor, Sir Patrick Ross, the officers of the 75th, and others, and having seen enough of Zante, I was anxious to proceed on my journey, only waiting for a vessel to take me to Greece, when fortunately I heard that an English mercantile brig, commanded by Captain Burgess, a rough old Scotchman, was about to sail for Patras, so I at once took my leave of Sir Patrick Ross, his family, and all my other kind friends, packed up my baggage, embarked at 3 P.M. on the 23rd March, and bade adieu to Zante. After a pleasant passage, but rough accommodation, we arrived at the entrance to the Gulf of Corinth, and anchored in the roadstead about a mile from the shore. I paid my passage, landed, proceeded up to the town, called upon Mr. Green, the Consul, and soon found tolerably comfortable quarters in a Greek house, but the beds were sadly infested with bugs, which annoyed me much. Before leaving Zante, I ought to say that I here engaged a Greek, who had been well recommended to me. His name was Demetrius Papandriopolo. He was about thirty-five, of the middle size, sharp, active, sober, intelligent, and honest, and served me faithfully through the greater part of my journey, for above twelve months, until I returned to Malta on my way back to England. I found him a most valuable servant, and he rendered me the most essential services.

Patras was then a trading town of some importance, in fact, the principal one in the Morea, and it contained a considerable number of inhabitants, almost wholly Greeks, without including the Turkish garrison. It is situated on a hill about a quarter of a mile from the gulf of the same name, where there is a small rubble jetty for boats to land their goods, &c. The roadstead outside is safe and well protected. The town is surrounded by a rich, fertile plain, well cultivated with olives, vines, and currants. The entrance to the Gulf of Corinth is protected by two old castles, the distance between them being about a mile and a half; and three miles east is the modern town of Lepanto (it was formerly the ancient Naupactus), celebrated for the victory over the Turks by John of Austria; it contains 2000 souls; the surrounding views are very fine. The town was under the command of a Turkish Governor, and is situated upon the side of a hill rising to the east, encompassed by a rude wall and ditch, and crowned at the summit by a citadel, in which the Governor and the garrison resided. Besides the citadel there were no remarkable buildings of any kind: the streets were narrow and dirty. There were a few mosques interspersed here and there, whose graceful minarets, rising above the mass, gave the place a most picturesque appearance. The town contained numerous bazaars, where all the trade of the place was carried on, and the neighbourhood of the main street was filled with cafés, crowded with Greeks, Turks, Ionians, French, English, and various other nations, all smoking their long pipes, drinking coffee, sherbet, and various other liquors, apparently in great comfort. The Turk, as lord supreme, moved leisurely about with the most solemn dignity, having the greatest contempt for his neighbours, and every now and then, as a Christian passed by, he greeted him with a lofty scowl, as if he considered him unworthy of notice, uttering the simple word Giaour! and passed on without further ceremony. I frequently wandered amongst the bazaars, then to me a perfectly novel sight, and was much amused with the gravity and solemn dignity with which the Turks sat cross-legged behind their counters; if you asked for any of their wares, they quietly, with a monosyllable, ordered their assistant to show it to you, as if they considered it a favour. This was so different to what I had been accustomed to in the civil, well-bred shopkeepers in Europe, that I could not help laughing outright, which I soon found would not do, as it gave great offence.

One morning, whilst walking along the shore in front of the roadstead, whom should I stumble upon but my old friend Captain Smyth, who had come to Patras on a surveying expedition in one of the small auxiliary boats attached to his larger vessel, which lay at anchor in the roadstead. This auxiliary boat, although small, was fitted up with every convenience for the purpose, and adapted to enter shoal water, in order to complete the details of the survey. In this he was accompanied by one or two assistants, and a few men to work it, so that he could be absent from his ship for several days without inconvenience. Captain Smyth was delighted to see me, and asked me to dine with him on board his boat, and I agreed to, with great pleasure. I accordingly went there at the time appointed, and amongst the guests met Captain Hunter and his wife, and our worthy Consul (Mr. Green). We had a most cordial welcome and an excellent dinner, and afterwards passed a delightful evening. Towards sunset we adjourned to the beach in order to take ices, which we got from the town, and enjoy ourselves by smoking our cigars. Whilst we were thus happily seated, laughing and talking together, we were surrounded by numerous Greeks from the town, amongst whom were several Turkish soldiers, armed to the teeth, and carrying their long pipes, which they never abandoned for a moment. The jolly old Captain said, “Now I will astonish these fellows,” and immediately dispatched one of his officers for his seven-barrelled pistol, which was brought, and duly loaded. He then told his interpreter to inform the Turks that this was a pistol which he could discharge as many times as he liked without reloading. The Turks held up their hands in astonishment, exclaimed “In Shallah!” and with a scornful look at us, said such a thing was not possible. Smyth, however, at once rose from his seat, deliberately discharging his pistol one, two, three, four, five, and six times, to the utter amazement of the Turks, who could scarcely believe what they saw. He then, with the utmost coolness, asked whether they were convinced, to which they all replied, with the exclamation of “In Shallah!” perfectly so. Smyth then offered them coffee and ices, of which they readily partook, and, after a hearty salutation and shaking of hands, they returned to the town, saying what wonderful people these Ingleses are. This pistol resembled the modern Colt revolver, although differing in some particulars. Before leaving I visited the celebrated cypress tree, three miles to westward. Its base is about 40 feet in circumference, and it is 35 to 40 feet high, the upper part having been blown off during a gale. I also visited St. Andrea, where were the remains of the well and some fragments of sculpture.

I took leave of my excellent and talented friend, the Captain, and determined to start the next day, the 27th of March. Upon returning to my quarters at Patras, I was informed that there was a French gentleman of the name of Prevot, an artist, who was about proceeding to Athens to make a panoramic view of that city, and was desirous of knowing whether I would allow him to accompany me. Finding him a very agreeable person, and having been introduced by Mr. Green, and being glad of a companion upon my lonely and novel journey, I willingly consented to his joining me.

Having got all my baggage on board, attended by my servant Demetrius, we started early on the following morning, the 27th, at seven. The day was unfortunately very rough, with violent gusts of wind, heavy rain, accompanied by thunder and lightning; notwithstanding which we started on our journey, and when we got into the gulf there was a heavy swell (which threatened at times to overwhelm the boat and all in it), with baffling winds, which materially retarded our progress. We struggled on all day: at last our boatmen said that it was impossible to proceed farther; we therefore determined to run ashore, and finish our journey the next day. We accordingly did so, and landed in a small bay, the only safe one on the south side, near Vostizza, at about four o’clock in the afternoon, two hours before sunset. Then came the question, where were we to sleep? Vostizza was about one or two miles distant, and there were no means of transporting our baggage there; and to leave it in the boat was to expose it to being plundered, as the boatmen said they would not be responsible for it, in consequence of the numerous bad characters lurking about, pirates, robbers, &c. As there was no possibility of getting our things to Vostizza, and there were the remains of a convent (which had been ruined by an earthquake) close by on the shore, on a cliff about 50 feet above the gulf, I proposed at once that we should place our things there, and sleep, to which my companion, who was very tired and sick of the voyage, readily consented. We got the boatmen to land the things, and place them in the convent; but when we got there, to our great surprise and mortification, found that it was uninhabited and half in ruins. There was no alternative, however, as there was no other building near us; so we made the best of it, and prepared to pass the night there. We went upstairs, explored the ruined building all over, and at length we discovered one large room tolerably perfect, and capable of keeping out the rain. This we chose for our night’s quarters, placed the baggage in order, and then commenced to prepare our supper. Upon examining our provisions, such as we had, we found them considerably damaged by the wet and unfit for use. I then decided that Demetrius and myself should go to the bazaar of Vostizza, and purchase what we could get, whilst we left M. Prevot in charge in the convent; and I gave the boatmen some money on account to provide themselves for the night where they could: the boat, everything having been taken out, was firmly moored to the shore.

Demetrius and myself went to Vostizza, and returned to the convent just after dark, laden with a bag well furnished with wine and provisions, the best we could get, and immediately set about preparing our mattresses for beds, and lighting a good fire to cook the supper. Demetrius was a capital cook, and about nine o’clock had got ready an excellent repast. Having had scarcely anything all day, and being miserably wet and cold, after having washed, and dressed in dry things, with a roaring wood fire before us, we enjoyed our supper excessively, forgot all discomforts, and about eleven lay down upon our mattresses for the night. Before doing this, warned by what our boatmen told us of the insecurity of the place, we fastened the door of our room as well as we could with an English padlock, and placed our heavy baggage and the table against the door, examined the priming of our pistols, which were well loaded, and lay down to sleep. My mattress was placed immediately opposite to the door, Demetrius was in the other corner, and M. Prevot near the fireplace, with an understanding between us that if any noise occurred during the night we were not to leave our berths, for fear of mistaking each other for an enemy. We slept tolerably sound until about two o’clock in the morning, when I awoke and thought I heard the movement of footsteps on the landing outside our door. We had kept a light burning all night. I listened again attentively, and thought I heard voices outside, then something like a push against the door. I awakened my companions, and told them to be ready with pistols, but not to fire until we were attacked, and then if possible to keep our positions. I had scarcely done this when a violent attack was made against the door, which in a moment was burst in, the table, portmanteaus, &c., being hurled into the middle of the room; this was immediately followed by a rush of several armed men. I instantly fired into the midst of them, Demetrius seconded me by another shot, and I repeated mine. We then heard a shriek as if somebody was wounded, and the whole of our assailants precipitately beat a retreat, scampering down the stairs as rapidly as possible. I reloaded, and we jumped up, rushed to the stair-head, and were going to follow them, but upon second thoughts we considered it best to remain where we were. We then secured the door again and tried to sleep, but in vain; we therefore lay watching until daylight, when our boatmen called us, and we prepared to depart, rejoicing heartily at our lucky escape from being robbed and murdered, as we assuredly should have been if we had not been armed and defended ourselves so stoutly. Before leaving, we examined the landing and stairs, and discovered some traces of blood, so that some one must have been wounded. Our boatmen told us that we had a very narrow escape; they said that they would not have slept there, and indeed told us before that we had better not, as there were numerous pirates and rascals in the vicinity, who waylaid all travellers, and seldom allowed them to escape even with their lives.

Early in the morning, which was very fine after the storm, we set sail with a fair wind, and bid adieu to Vostizza, with a remembrance of its inhospitable shore not likely to be soon forgotten. We had a delightful voyage, and enjoyed the beautiful mountain scenery on both sides of the gulf with much satisfaction, and reached the custom-house of Corinth, three miles from the town, before the close of the day. We then discharged our boatmen, and finding no horses, were obliged to stop at this nasty, wretched place, and passed a most miserable night. Next morning, the 29th, having got horses, we started at eight and reached the caravanserai at Corinth at nine, and having breakfasted and dressed, called upon the Bey, who received us very civilly. We wandered about all day examining the place and its antiquities. I arose early in the morning, awakened by the Muezzin as he was calling the faithful to prayers from the galleries of the minarets attached to the mosques. I had not heard this at Patras, having slept too late, and therefore it appeared to me for the first time most novel and singular. I listened to it with peculiar interest, as the contrast was so different to our own, where this office is performed by bells. On the same day, after breakfast, I examined the town, a poor miserable place domineered over by the Turks, with no trade, and the wonder was how the people lived. There was nothing worthy of examination except the beautiful remains of the Temple of Venus, of the simple, severe, yet commanding Doric order. A few columns only were left, surmounted by the cornice and entablature; these have been so often measured and engraved, that it is unnecessary to say more about them here, except that they are eminently beautiful, and an excellent specimen of that bold and expressive style of architecture. I was anxious to mount the Acropolis, crowned by an old fort and garrisoned by Turks, but this was not permitted: I regretted it much, for, seated as it is on a commanding eminence, eighteen hundred feet above the level of the adjoining gulf, the view over the sea and the fine mountainous surrounding country must be magnificent; but the Turks in those days were so proud, insolent, and domineering, that the sight of a Christian was an abhorrence to them, and one was glad to get out of their way, although even then they had considerable respect for the English, more indeed than any other nation; for we had saved them from the French and had protected them against the encroachment of the Russians, who had already begun to be very troublesome. Having nothing further to see, we were anxious to get away as early as possible.

There were two routes to Athens, to which we were destined, one entirely by land over the isthmus, the other by sea, after crossing the six miles of isthmus which separates the Corinthian Gulf from the Ægean Sea. We determined therefore to take the latter, and on the 30th March, having engaged the necessary number of horses, and loaded them after a considerable wrangling and noise with their keepers, started at 1 P.M. for Recrees Ceneres, on the borders of the Ægean Sea. At 3 P.M., in crossing the isthmus, we came upon the remains of the wall said to have been built by the Venetians for preventing the incursions of the Turks into the Morea. Here we dismounted, and engaged one of the boats of the country and embarked. However, as there was little or no wind, we were out all night, and did not reach the Piræus before four o’clock in the afternoon of the 31st. This is a fine natural port, but the town was then a miserable place, surrounded by a few wretched buildings, at the head of which was a Turkish custom-house, where the authorities at first made considerable opposition to our landing. However, I soon silenced them with a respectable backshish, or present, when they became as civil as possible, and not only allowed us to land with our baggage, but did not subject us to any examination; we therefore at once inquired for horses to take us to Athens, but finding none to be had, were obliged to remain that night in a wretched plastered room at the custom-house. Next day, 1st April, having got horses, we started at six, with no end of wrangling with muleteers, which the Turks soon silenced by laying about right and left, to our great amusement. I at once interfered, and rewarded the Turks with another backshish, when they heartily saluted me, and we started without further molestation, and reached Athens, six miles distant, over a miserable road, within an hour and a half, at half-past seven o’clock. There were then no hotels, so we took up our quarters at the house of a respectable Greek, Toagrafos, with but poor accommodation. I by this time had become so accustomed to bad fare and lodging that I did not mind it, but my friend, the French artist, was not so easily satisfied; we therefore parted, and he endeavoured to find better apartments elsewhere. I never met him again, and consequently do not know how he succeeded with his panorama, or whether he ever completed it, but I heard that about a year afterwards a panorama of Greece had been exhibited at Paris with considerable success. I hoped that it was that of my friend, for he appeared to be an excellent person, and was certainly a very pleasant companion, with all the characteristic ardour and enthusiasm of his countrymen. He had never been out of France before, and therefore felt the _désagréments_ of the journey a great deal more than I did; nevertheless, by the time he reached Athens he had become tolerably well accustomed to it, and, with the usual French _sang froid_, made up his mind to it, and enjoyed the journey as much as myself.

We arrived at Athens on Friday, the 1st April, in the midst of spring; the weather was delightful, the sun shining brightly, the sky cloudless, the vegetation bursting into full luxuriance, the plain and mountains covered with flowers and shrubs of the most brilliant and varied hues. Nature seemed to be in all her glory, and man to sympathize with her. I was in most exuberant spirits, and was pleased with everything around me. The beauty of the country, and the very idea that I was in Athens, which from my boyhood I was most anxious to see, and which I scarcely ever expected to behold, aroused me to such a pitch of enthusiasm that I could scarcely believe my eyes; which was not extraordinary, considering the brilliant and memorable scene which burst upon my sight, and by which I was surrounded. I soon sallied forth again, called upon the English and Austrian consuls and delivered my letters, and hurried about all day, taking a hasty view of the Parthenon, the Temple of Theseus, Jupiter Olympus, and the Temple of the Winds, which I admired excessively; then, thoroughly tired and exhausted, I returned to my lodgings, took a hasty supper and went to bed, dreaming of the glories of ancient Greece. After breakfast I went out, and at once made my way to the Acropolis, where the glorious Parthenon stood out prominently. I was riveted to the spot with admiration, and could go no farther. At last I came to myself, and found the scorching rays of the sun rather more than agreeable. I then returned to my quarters, dined, reposed during the heat of the day, and towards evening I again sallied forth, and enjoyed a magnificent sunset, such as I had been totally unaccustomed to in our frigid climate of England. I again went to the Acropolis the following day, and there enjoyed the splendid scene. The Acropolis is a detached rock, standing high above the plain or valley on which Athens is situated; upon this rock is the citadel, where the Parthenon, the Erechtheum, and all the other principal buildings are placed, and in addition to this it is a citadel or fortress, where, in case of attack, and the city below being taken, the Acropolis would form a refuge for the garrison and the inhabitants. From the summit you command a view of the country all around: on the north Mount Olympus and the Pindus range of mountains; on the south the Mediterranean, the island of Syra, and several others; on the east the plain of Athens, flanked by Mount Hymettus, and Mount Hybla on the north; on the west the Piræus, the Ægean Sea, and the mountains of the Peloponnesus or Morea; in fact, whichever way you look, the view is delightful, and you are satisfied.

I at once removed into a new lodging in a Greek house, which appeared tolerably clean and comfortable but as usual I found it full of fleas, which tormented me day and night. However, when I went to bed I hit upon a plan to relieve me at least of a good many of them, which fortunately proved successful. I placed a number of large plates filled with oil, having a wick in them; I then lighted the wicks, and the fleas, attracted by this, leaped into the plates, which in the morning were black with them, and by this means I got rid of the greatest part, and at length enjoyed some comfort.

I now determined to study the antiquities more at leisure, and set regularly about it. Every morning, immediately after breakfast, I proceeded to the Acropolis, and employed myself in drawing and measuring the Parthenon, Erechtheum, and other buildings until dinner time; and after, in the evening, I took walks and rides round the adjacent country. Having finished the Acropolis, I then proceeded to the Temples of Theseus and Jupiter Olympus, the Temple of the Winds, and the other antiquities, which occupied me about a month. All these splendid specimens of architecture have been so accurately described in the elaborate works of Stuart, Cockerell, Dodwell, Gell, and others, that it is unnecessary to describe them here. With regard to the Piræus, and the other ports of Athens, I examined them minutely, and for plans and description of them I refer to my work on ‘British and Foreign Harbours.’ I also saw a little of Athenian society. Amongst others, I made the acquaintance of the Maid of Athens (so celebrated by Byron), who was very pretty, ladylike, and agreeable. I was also most kindly received by Mr. Gropeus, the Austrian Consul, Mr. Logotheti, the English Consul, and by the well-known artist, Mr. Luzieri, who had made some fine views of Athens for Lord Elgin.

The Turks treated the Greeks with great contempt and very little ceremony. By way of illustration, I was present at the arrival of a new Governor or Vaivode. His Excellency came mounted on a beautiful white Arabian horse, surrounded by about a hundred well-mounted cavalry, all in the magnificent Turkish costume of the day; next there followed the hareem, in crimson-coloured carriages, each slung between two horses, and escorted on foot by numerous eunuchs and blacks, all splendidly attired; then the baggage, which was carried on the backs of horses, led and guarded by Greeks, mixed with Turkish soldiers on foot. The whole town turned out to witness the sight and welcome their new Governor, who scarcely deigned to look at them; whilst the attendants going before cleared the way with sticks, which they by no means used sparingly, dealing their blows right and left on everyone within reach. A number of Turkish lads amongst the crowd amused themselves by firing off their guns and pistols, which were loaded with ball and shot. They took no care which way they fired; sometimes in the air, sometimes on the ground, and sometimes straight forward amongst the crowd; of course everybody got out of the way, myself amongst the number. I saw one Greek who had his leg broken by a shot from a Turkish lad near me, at which he, the Turk, and the whole of his companions, shouted with joy, and seemed to think it great fun: at this I could not restrain my indignation, and being armed with a good stout stick, I rushed amongst them, striking right and left: some Greeks tried to stop me, but I stuck to them, and had the satisfaction of seeing that no more shots were fired except in the air. Nothing impressed the Turks with so much respect as courage and vigour; the more you humbled yourself, the more they bullied you, being anything but fond of fighting. I found from experience that this was the only way to treat them; for though frequently amongst them, and under the most trying circumstances, I was rarely molested. Afterwards I witnessed the entrance of the Pacha of Negropont, which was in the same style, but upon a more extended scale.

I occasionally visited the convents, inhabited by a few worthy monks, who kindly receive strangers and lodge and board them for a moderate sum. The situation is excellent, being in the higher part of the town, close to the beautiful remains of the Temple of the Winds, with a splendid view. Athens at the time of my visit was a poor miserable place, without an inn worthy of the name. It was surrounded by a crenellated wall, which even the artillery of that day would have demolished with a few rounds of shot. The Ilyssus and Cephisus are trifling streams, which, passing on the south side of the town, discharge their waters into the sea a few miles below. During summer there is scarcely any water, as it is conducted away by different channels for irrigation, so that the beds of these two rivulets are dry.

Having explored Athens sufficiently for my purpose, I determined to make a tour of the Morea, and accordingly hired a small decked vessel of about 30 tons to cross the Ægean Sea, leaving Athens for the Piræus on the 25th of March; and after waiting some time on board in the harbour, at seven on the 25th started, reached Ægina at eight, landed after breakfast, and proceeded on foot to the Temple of Jupiter, on a hill about a mile from the shore. We spent here nearly three hours measuring and examining the remains of this beautiful specimen of Greek architecture, and sketching the surrounding picturesque scenery; then started for the town and port of Ægina, whither I had sent the vessel to meet us, and was told that the distance was only three or four miles, which turned out to be nearly twelve, over a rough path, so that we did not reach Ægina until nearly 6 P.M., very tired and hungry, having had no lunch. The Temple of Jupiter is a fine specimen of the Doric, and is well described in Mr. C. R. Cockerell’s excellent work, to which the reader is referred. The small town of Ægina is situated about the middle of the west side of the island, facing the Morea, from which it is separated by a channel about eight or ten miles wide. The town and island of Ægina were governed by a Vaivode, who had a few Turkish soldiers, and was inhabited chiefly by fishermen and small traders. The surrounding country is hilly, with fertile valleys producing olives, vines, and grain, and beans of several kinds; and there are a few sheep and goats.

The next morning, the 26th March, I rose early and examined the port, which consisted of two artificial harbours, formed by two piers, each carried out from the shore, enclosing a considerable space of water, with a depth of about 10 or 12 feet. This was made by the ancients, and Mr. Cockerell gave me a plan of it, which is inserted in my work on ‘British and Foreign Harbours.’ It was then blowing very hard north-west and contrary; however, soon after noon the wind abated, when we embarked, and arrived at the little port or bay of Pilascro, the ancient Epidauros, on the opposite shore of the Morea, about five o’clock in the afternoon. Here we disembarked, and walked round the place, and could only discover what appeared to be the remains of a bath, and some mutilated figures near it; and a little farther some similar remains, but nothing remarkable; so that it would require considerable time to make anything out of them. In Sir W. Gell’s ‘Itinerary of the Morea’ what is there is well described.

We slept on board. On the 27th we rose at daylight, and found that the baggage horses, Greek servants, and an excellent Arabian horse, which I bought at Athens, and which I sent round by land, had arrived at Epidauros. Having disembarked our baggage and discharged the vessel, we loaded the baggage on the horses, after which we started for Napoli di Romania, a small town situated on the Gulf of Argos, not many miles distant from Epidauros, through an undulating, picturesque, and rich country. On account of the guide taking the wrong road, we were obliged to stop at the village of Tero, where there are a considerable number of Roman and Greek remains.

On Friday, 28th March, we started at half-past six, and at noon reached the picturesque fortress of Napoli di Romania, on the east side of the Gulf of Argos, situated on a lofty hill commanding the entrance to the gulf. The miserable town lay beneath the citadel, which, as well as the town itself, was strongly fortified according to the Venetian system, and was a place of considerable strength, garrisoned by a set of bigoted Turkish troops, imbued with a thorough hatred of Christians, so that I was strongly advised not to stop there. There was, however, no alternative, as there was no other place near. I therefore rode into the town, and took up my quarters at the English Vice-Consul’s, who was a Greek. Immediately after my arrival I went out, and tried to get into the citadel, in order to have a view of the town and surrounding country, which was very fine, but the Turks refused me admittance in the most insolent manner, and told me to get about my business as quickly as possible. I found that it was of no use to attempt to proceed farther, and returned at once to the town, and after having examined it, and found nothing worthy of notice, returned to my lodgings. Here the Vice-Consul came to me in a great fright, and said that the Turks had been much annoyed at my arrival, and that I must depart directly; strongly urging me to do so, as he said that he could not protect me, and if I stayed he would not be responsible for the consequences. I replied that as it was night it was too late to depart then, but that I would do so the next morning at daybreak. To this he consented. I accordingly supped, and went to bed. On the following morning my servant and myself were in the saddle before daybreak, and were at the gates of the fortress waiting for them to be opened. In Turkish fortresses at that day it was the custom to make every foreigner and Greek dismount and walk over the drawbridge. I thought that this was degrading, and determined not to do it. As soon, therefore, as the gates were opened, and the drawbridge let down, I started off at a rapid pace, and told Demetrius to follow me. In passing the Turkish guard, consisting of three or four badly-armed men, they called out to me to stop, which I disregarded, and galloped off as fast as I could. I had scarcely proceeded a couple of hundred yards when, turning round, I saw Demetrius in the hands of the Turks, who were belabouring him with sticks, and trying to pull him off his horse. He kicked and fought with all his might. I immediately rode back with a loaded pistol in each hand, and dashed amongst the Turks, who soon released my man, and spurring our horses we galloped off as hard as possible, never pulling rein for a full mile, and then, finding we were not followed, stopped and joined our men and baggage, whom I had left behind in a small Greek house before I entered Nauplia the preceding evening. Thus I got happily out of this affair, which might have been rather serious; but I always found the best way was to show a bold front to the Turks, and not allow them to insult you. After a little halt we started again, and stopped to examine the ruins of the ancient city of Tiryns, said to have been built by the Cyclopeans. These are very curious and interesting, and are supposed to be the oldest specimens of architecture in Greece. They are constructed of rough, only partially hewn blocks of stone, rudely put together without cement. We have here an attempt to construct a Gothic arch; but the stones are not radiated, the beds being flat, each stone projecting over another until they meet in the centre. These ruins are extensive, covering a surface of several acres. They are well described and represented in Gell’s ‘Itinerary.’

From Tiryns I proceeded to Mycene, about 12 miles farther northward. These ruins are also very extensive, and once formed the capital of Agamemnon, with a small surrounding territory. The chief building worthy of remark is the Hall of Atreus. This, of the kind, is a fine work, constructed of solid masonry, of large blocks of stone well squared, and put together without cement. The hall is circular, and 47 feet 6 inches in diameter in the inside, and 42 feet 6 inches high, the top covered by a single stone, thus forming a Gothic arch inside of squared blocks of stone, the beds being horizontal, and the stones projecting over each other in the inside until they meet in the centre, the angles of the projecting stones in the inside being cut off and dressed smoothly on the face, so that, when viewing it from within, the whole has the appearance of a nicely-constructed dome, lighted from the top by a circular opening. The side walls are 18 feet 6 inches at bottom, diminishing to 18 inches at top. It is a remarkable work, and may be considered as one of the earliest specimens of the arch, and a considerable improvement upon that of Tiryns. The entrance to the hall is by a massive doorway, the sides being formed of single stones well dressed, and the top of another single block equally well prepared; this is surmounted by another large block, upon which is sculptured in bold relief two lions rampant. The approach to the doorway is between two solid walls of masonry, forming a passage open to the air. This being near the summit of a hill, there is a fine view from it over the plain, or rather valley, beneath, backed by the ruins of the ancient city of Argos and its Acropolis, on the Gulf of Nauplia, and on the west by a fine range of mountains, the highest of which towers prominently above the rest, standing far above the level of the Mediterranean.

After having measured the Hall of Atreus, and having made a sketch of the surrounding country, during which my people had managed to cook an excellent dinner in the open air, I dined, and started about 4 P.M., and reached Argos at 5 P.M. The ruins of the ancient city contain little worthy of remark, and the modern one is a miserable village, seated amongst the ruins. The rich country was not half cultivated, merely dotted here and there with a few vineyards and olive woods. Argos is now about a mile from the head of the Gulf of Nauplia, but it is very probable that in former times the sea washed the walls of the ancient city; the intervening space has been filled up by alluvial deposit, and it is now little better than a marsh.

I slept at the caravanserai, and next morning started for the Temple of Jupiter at Nemea, passing through a rich valley with vines, grain, and olives, and the village of Agioz Georgious, near which is a convent on a hill. These convents are not the seats of learning, for the monks are lazy and ignorant; but they form comfortable resting-places for travellers who pay well for their accommodation. The ruins of the Temple of Jupiter, well described by Gell, consist only of three columns of an indifferent style of Doric.

Having returned to Argos to sleep, on Sunday, May 1, I arose early. The morning was wet and stormy, and I was detained by the muleteer demanding extra pay for the horses, which, however, the Bey decided against him. We accordingly started about seven, and soon after began to ascend the Pass through the mountains, having on the left the miserable village Lerna, seated on the swampy shore of the gulf, anciently called Hydra; and hence was derived the Lernean hydra or monster, celebrated by Virgil. This was no doubt nothing more than the malaria fever personified, which prevails severely in this district. In fact, the whole of this country had a wretched, forlorn, deserted appearance. The population was scanty, oppressed by poverty, misery, and tyranny, their countenances for the most part pale and haggard, expressing despair and dejection, to extricate themselves from which appeared hopeless; whilst the surrounding country, naturally fertile, aided by the influence of a genial climate, only required the industry of man to make it yield the richest reward. Nothing was done; all lay dead and desolate. Nature seemed to have done everything for man, while man had in everything neglected nature; a not uncommon occurrence, and one which, as far as my experience goes, has produced more misery than almost anything else.

We began to ascend the Pass over a rude causeway, about eight or ten feet wide, in many places cut up into deep gullies by the torrents; the ascent steep, rugged, and difficult, fit only for mules and pack-horses. The evening was fine, however, the air fresh and invigorating, and the scenery beautiful, which raised my spirits after the melancholy caused by the depressing influence of the sight of so much desolation. Having got to the summit of the Pass, we had a magnificent view on both sides. Looking back, we had the Gulf of Nauplia, with the picturesque fortress at the entrance, the plain of Argos and its ruins, also those of Mycene and Tiryns, backed by a rugged outline of hills; on the west the fertile plain, with its capital Tripolitza, and the ruins of Mantinea, backed by a bold line of hills, with the magnificent Taygetus rising 7000 feet, flanked on both sides by the blue waters of the Mediterranean. We reached Tripolitza just after dark, and, as usual, put up at the best Greek house where we could find admittance; and as I had a good sumpter mule, Demetrius soon prepared a capital supper, which I enjoyed much after a hard-working day of nineteen hours, during which I had been fourteen hours in the saddle. I slept soundly, notwithstanding the attacks of numerous fleas, to which by this time I had become tolerably well accustomed.

Tripolitza, although the capital of the Morea, was but a poor place, with about 4000 inhabitants, and the Turkish garrison of about 300 men. The Governor’s palace was merely an assemblage of some low, insignificant buildings enclosed within a wall. The rest of the town consisted of irregular, crooked, narrow, dirty streets, some of them hardly wide enough for a carriage, for which, indeed, there was no need, and there were none; with a place or square near the centre, surrounded by cafés, where the Turks and better class of natives, such as they were, sat idly smoking their long pipes and nargillas with that stupid indifference and repose which characterized them, perfectly regardless of any but themselves, and quite unconscious and indifferent to the misery around them. There were one or two bazaars, where all the business of the place was transacted; in these cloths, furs, shawls, leather articles, such as saddles, bridles, &c., silks, arms, pipes, tobacco, and provisions of all kinds, were sold, but scarcely any articles of European manufacture. The town was surrounded by a crenellated wall, unfit for artillery, and incapable of resistance to European troops; and there were two or three mosques, with their minarets rising above the mass of insignificant buildings, and a few Greek churches, the interiors of which were decorated with rude and almost grotesque representations of saints. These edifices, towering above the rest, had a picturesque and imposing effect when viewed from a distance, but this vanished the moment you drew near and entered, when little else but dirt and misery met the eye.

The following day after my arrival I walked about the town, amusing myself with the little which was to be seen; and the next day I rode, accompanied by my servant Demetrius, to the ruins of the ancient Mantinea, formerly a city of considerable importance, and well fortified according to the style of that period. It was surrounded by a strong lofty stone wall, about 25 feet high, flanked at intervals by circular turrets, and in front of each entrance there was a kind of lunette or advanced work to protect it, so that an enemy, in endeavouring to enter, was exposed to flank attacks from the garrison. These walls were surrounded by a wide ditch filled with water, and the total surface enclosed by them is considerable. The ruins within consist of the remains of a hippodrome, theatre, and other private and public buildings, concerning which, from their scattered and dilapidated condition, it was difficult to define anything accurately. In the neighbourhood of Tripolitza there are numerous kalavatha, or subterranean conduits for carrying off the water for drainage, irrigation, and supplying the inhabitants. The river flowing through the plain, if such it can be called, is an insignificant stream; it is connected with the subterranean conduits described above. The surrounding country was tolerably cultivated, and produced corn, pulse, oil, and wine, both red and white. This wine was made in a very rough way, and, in order to preserve it, was mixed with a certain quantity of turpentine, which gave it a strong bitter flavour, by no means agreeable at first; and until you become accustomed to it, you cannot drink it with any degree of relish, but by degrees you like it, and it is very wholesome.

Whilst at Tripolitza I became acquainted with the late Mr. Hodgets Foley, afterwards M.P. for Droitwich, a very amiable, good-natured person. As an instance of Turkish civility, Mr. Foley was taking his usual ride in the evening, accompanied by his servant, and on his way met with a party of the delhi, or cavalry, playing at football, a game in which they much delighted. As they passed he civilly pulled up to get out of their way, when two or three of them at once, without the smallest provocation, attacked him, laid hold of his horse, and otherwise maltreated him, and he with some difficulty extricated himself from their hands, and rode back to Tripolitza as quickly as possible, to lay his complaint before our Vice-Consul, who was a Greek. He made his complaint to the Governor, who promised redress, but (Turkish fashion) never gave it. Foley’s mistake was this, that instead of getting out of the way, he should have ridden right into the midst of them, laying about him on both sides with his whip as hard as possible; then they would have feared and respected him, and have never offered him any violence.

After having seen all that was worthy of attention in the town and neighbourhood, I started for Misitra, the site of the ancient Sparta, some miles from Tripolitza, the route to which lay through the plain. We reached Misitra, a miserable village, towards evening, and obtained tolerable quarters in a respectable Greek house, where we were received very kindly, and most hospitably entertained, which of course I paid for by a handsome present. I sat down to supper with the family, consisting of the husband, his handsome wife, daughter, and son, before a low table, placed upon the floor; the dishes consisted of soup, a species of stewed mutton, vegetables, and cakes and fruits. After dinner the servant came round with a basin and ewer, and poured water over our hands, and then presented a napkin to wipe them: we next adjourned to another room, where coffee and pipes were served, and the daughter sung very prettily some Greek airs, accompanied by the mandoline; and thus I passed a very agreeable evening.

The following morning I rose early and proceeded to the ruins of ancient Sparta, some miles distant. Here nothing is to be seen of this ancient celebrated city, but some mounds, fragments of walls and buildings, the extent and designation of which it is extremely difficult to make out. It was in vain, therefore, to attempt more, and so I next determined to prosecute my journey into Maina, said to be inhabited by the descendants of the Spartans. This was considered at that time to be a journey of considerable difficulty and danger, and, indeed, impracticable, on account of the lawlessness of the natives, who were said to be nothing more than a set of pirates and robbers, at war with the whole world and each other. Lord Byron wished to go there, but was dissuaded from it, although no person ever accused his lordship of want of courage. My janissary advised me not to make the journey, and said that he would not accompany me, as we should all be murdered; and added that the Turks, who had frequently endeavoured to conquer the country both by land and by sea, had always failed. The more they tried to dissuade me from going, the more I was determined to do it, being stimulated also by doing that which few persons would attempt; therefore I discharged my janissaries and extra horses and servants, and sent them to meet me at Calamata, the other side of the peninsula, and decided to undertake the journey with Demetrius alone, who was well acquainted with one of the captains or chiefs of the district of Marathonesi, and who was anxious to go himself, and said that the difficulties had been greatly exaggerated, and that we should get through very well. I resolved, therefore, to start on the following morning.

Before proceeding farther I will endeavour to describe the country which we were about to visit. The district of Maina is situated at the southern extremity of the Morea; it is bounded on the north by Mount Taygetus, and its subsidiary range of mountains, and by Cape Matapan on the south, so that it forms a triangle, jutting out into the Mediterranean; and on the east and west sides it is bordered by that sea, so that on all sides, except on the north, it is surrounded by water. As to the aborigines, it is difficult to find any well-authenticated account; it is supposed that they at one time formed part of the Spartan republic. After the conquest of the Greeks by the Romans, and subsequently by the Turks, they took refuge here, and being of a warlike and restless temperament, disdained all subjection to any one chief, but divided themselves into separate communities, and chose their chief for the time, who was the most able and successful warrior amongst them. These communities or tribes were wholly independent, and were frequently at war with each other, but always united to defend themselves against the common enemy, and they drove out the Turks, who frequently, but in vain, attempted to bring them under subjection, and latterly had quite given it up. Such was the state of the country when I visited it. The whole population was considered to be about 20,000, divided into capitanates or beylichs, with a supreme chief, to whom, however, the allegiance was merely nominal, and only accorded when the whole country was invaded by a common enemy. On other occasions, each tribe or community made war upon the others upon the least provocation, or upon the surrounding countries and seas as it suited them; in fact, they were a horde of pirates, at war with all mankind, who treated them accordingly. It was no uncommon event at that day for a British ship of war to bombard its seaports and to land a strong body of men to chastise the natives whenever they could lay hold of them; but as the coast is intersected with numerous creeks, backed by innumerable inaccessible mountain fortresses, to which they escaped when overpowered, it was almost impossible to root them out. Every petty chief had a stronghold or fortress, where he lived with his most intimate followers. In some cases this fortress was surrounded by a strong loop-holed wall, to which no access was given except by a drawbridge or ladder, which could be drawn up when attacked; and the access to the castle within was the same. In others it was a simple square or round tower, with the entrance about 10 feet above the ground, approachable only by a ladder, which could be removed at pleasure, and was always drawn up at night. The country for the most part was uncultivated, and although extremely fertile, capable of producing corn, wine, oil, fruit, and silk in abundance, served little more than to supply the deficiency when booty was scarce. Such was the general state of Maina, which I determined to visit. We accordingly left our heavy baggage behind, and I started early in the morning, accompanied by Demetrius and one baggage horse. Shortly after leaving Misitra we crossed the frontier, came to a wild, desolate country with nothing but brushwood, occasionally mixed with lofty valonia trees, the bark and fruit of which form a valuable article of export.

At midday we halted as usual to give our horses, as well as ourselves, rest and refreshment; and the ever-active Demetrius, in a comparatively short time, provided us with a tolerable dinner, and after a couple of hours’ rest started again on our journey, and passing through the same kind of wild country we reached the sea-shore and the ruins of the ancient Marathonesi, the greatest portion of which had been submerged by an earthquake, and we could distinctly discern the buildings through the clear water. A few miles farther we reached the neat little seaport town, the modern Marathonesi, the capital of the tribe of which Demetrius’s friend was the chief. In the course of our day’s journey we were not a little inspired and gratified that we had not been attacked or even molested, notwithstanding the dismal accounts and forebodings which had been made to us. It is true we met a few rough, straggling, armed fellows on the way, and they looked at us with a fierce, independent scowl, but seeing us well armed and prepared to meet them, passed on without further remark.