TRIP TO MAINA—ITS RELATIVE PROSPERITY—RETURN TO KALAMATA. SECOND TRIP TO MAINA—MURGINOS—SPARTA—NAPOLI TO ATHENS.

"The Mainiote border comes to within half a mile of Kalamata, and the neighbourhood of its ferocious population, who are as savage and even braver than the Turks, makes the latter much meeker here than in other parts of the country—that is, in a general way, for they can be very fierce still on occasions. A ghastly thing happened during our stay. We heard one evening the report of a pistol in the house of the Albanian guard which stood just under our windows. It seemed one of the brutes had shot his brother in a quarrel. Here was a gruesome example under our eyes; and besides I was told all sorts of hideous stories of Mainiote and Albanian cruelties which made my blood run cold, and still spoils all my pleasure in thinking of this barbarous region.

Early in the morning we embarked on a Zantiote felucca, lent us for the occasion, and in an hour and a half reached the opposite coast of the bay, near the ruins of a village, of which we were told that it was destroyed and its inhabitants carried off for slaves by the Barbary pirates. Ever since this event the villages have been built farther from the coast. The village of Dolus, to which we were going, is an hour's walk from the shore.

Our friend's brother and a number of other men, all armed to the teeth, met us on the beach and saluted us, as soon as we were recognised, with a discharge of guns and pistols. Then we landed, and set off for the village. A difference in the appearance of the country struck me at once. Instead of the deserted languid air of other parts of Greece, here was a vigorous prosperity. Not an inch of available ground but was tilled and planted with careful husbandry, poor and rocky as the soil was. The villages were neater and less poverty-stricken, and the population evidently much thicker than in the rest of Greece. The faces of the men were cheerful and open; the women handsomer, and their costume more becoming.

Liberty seemed to have changed the whole countenance and manner of the people to gaiety and happiness. Everyone saluted us as we passed along, and when we arrived at Dolus the mother of our entertainer came out with the greatest frankness to meet us. Others came, and with very engaging manners wished us many years, a rare civility in Greece. The boys crowded round, and said Englishmen were fine fellows, but why had we no arms? How could we defend ourselves? Then they shook their fists at the Turkish shore, saying those ruffians dared not come amongst Mainiotes.

Our host's family had cooked us some chickens. While we were sitting eating them a multitude of visitors, women especially, who had never seen Franks before, came in, gazed, and asked questions. There was a great deal of laughing and talking, but every man was heavily armed. After dinner we went out for a walk and visited some remarkably pretty villages. The name of one was Malta, the others I could not make out; all more in the interior. The churches were very pretty. Each had a tall steeple in the Gothic style with bells, which a boy, proud of his freedom and anxious to show it, running on, would ring as we came up; for, as you know, neither bells nor steeples are allowed by the Turks. We saw a new tower, the tower of the beyzesday, or captain of the Mainiotes, armed with two thirty-pounders which had been given him, and though not very solidly built, standing in a fine position. We were told that all these towers are provisioned for a siege, and one of those near Kalamata has food for five years—not that I believe it. All slept together, ten of us covering the whole floor of a tiny room.

We went back in the morning to Kalamata, leaving behind us our host. He had been warned by letter from Kalamata not to go back there, for reports had been circulated by the Turks that he was gone to Maina to raise recruits and he would probably be arrested if he landed.

We had been so interested with our glimpse of the free Greeks—the Greeks who had always been free from the days of Sparta, who had maintained their independence against Rome, Byzantium, the Franks, Venetians, and Turks—that we longed to see more of them; and the reports we heard of a temple near Cape Matapan gave us hopes of a return for the expense of an excursion. We therefore agreed with a certain Captain Basili of Dolus, owner of a boat, that he should take us to Cyparissa and protect us into the interior. Meanwhile we went home to get our baggage &c. As we rowed along the shore a storm hung on Mount Elias, rolling in huge coils among the high perched villages, and the awful grandeur and air of savage romance it gave to the whole country whetted our appetites to the utmost.

When we landed at Kalamata, however, a dispute about payment for the present trip led us to refer to the consul for a settlement, and incidentally to our telling him our plans. As soon as he heard them he objected vigorously. The man we had engaged was, he said, a notorious murderer; it was well known that he had assassinated a certain Greek doctor for his money when he was bringing him from Coron, and he might do the same for us on the way to Cyparissa. It would be better if we insisted on going into Maina to write to a certain Captain Murgino at Scardamula and put ourselves under his protection. As he was one of the heads of the Mainiote clans, and a man of power, he would be able to guarantee our safety.

As this advice was supported by a French gentleman of Cervu, a Monsieur Shauvere, who seemed to be reliable, we took it, and wrote that same evening to Murgino; but the first engagement had to be got rid of, and that was not so easy. Whatever his intentions had been, the boatman from Dolus thought he had made a profitable engagement, for he demanded 50 piastres indemnity, first for expenses incurred and next for the slight. He threatened to attack us on the way if we ventured to engage another boat. Finally we agreed to refer the dispute for settlement to the Albanian Mainiote, our late host.

We received an answer from Murgino to say that we should be very welcome, and that he would send a guard to meet us four hours from his house.

We accordingly set off in the evening to go by land, and arrived at night at a village called MandiniÉ; and there we had to sleep, for the road was too breakneck for us to go on in the dark. Our host was exceedingly hospitable, and gave one a good impression of the free Greeks.

Early in the morning we went on to Malta, and met four of Murgino's men come to meet us. We also fell in with the young captain or chieftain of Mainiotes on his way to Kalamata. He had a guard of eight or ten men, all armed and handsomely dressed, their hair trailing down their backs like true descendants of the Spartans, who combed their long hair before going into battle.

As regarding the origin of the name Malta, it may be called to mind that the Venetians during their occupation mortgaged part of the Morea to the Knights of St. John, and this may have been one of their fortresses.

Having hired mules to carry our luggage, as the road is too bad for horses, we proceeded to Scardamula, a distance of 1½ hour. There we were rejoined by my servant Dimitri, whom I had sent on to arrange the affair of Captain Basili, the Dolus boatman. He had found the man in a state of exasperation, refusing to accept any accommodation, saying it was an affair of honour, and vowing that we should pay in another way. The wife and mother of the Albanian officer, dreading his resentment, had hung terrified on his (Dimitri's) arm, assuring him that we should be assassinated on the road. He himself arrived hardly able to speak with terror and pale as paper.

We did all we could to inspire him with a little courage, both natural and Dutch. First we appealed to him as a man to show a good face, and for the second we gave him a good and ample dinner, and, relying on our guard and on ourselves, set out.

But before starting we begged our Albanian friend to come, if he could, next day to Scardamula, bringing Captain Basili with him, and the dispute should be referred to Captain Murgino for arbitration.

The path to Scardamula—for there was nothing in the shape of a road—was now so difficult that we had to get off; and, even so, it was to me perfectly wonderful how the mules ever got along. There was nothing but rock, and that all fissured and jagged limestone, but they climbed over it like goats.

The situation of Scardamula is infinitely striking. At the gate of his castle Captain Murgino waited to receive us—a fat, handsome old man.

At the first our rather strange appearance seemed to put him a little out of countenance, and he received us awkwardly although kindly; but after a time he appeared to regain confidence and became very cordial. 'Eat a good supper, Ingles archi mas' ('my little Englishman'), he said to me, and gave me the example. He talked freely on the political state of Maina. He owned and regretted that the Greeks had no leader, and said he trusted that would not long be wanting, and that shortly the great object of his desires would be realised; but what that object was he would not explain. It might be an invasion of the Morea by the English, seconded by a native insurrection which he would take a leading part in—or what not; but he was careful to give me no hint.[29] His son was absent at a council of the [Greek] chiefs at Marathonisi.

The next morning we walked about his lands, which were indescribably picturesque. His castle stands on a rock in the bed of a river, about a quarter of a mile from the bank. It consists of a courtyard and a church surrounded by various towers. There is a stone bench at his door, where he sits surrounded by his vassals and his relations, who all stand unless invited to sit. The village people bring him presents, tribute as it were, of fruits, fowls, &c. On a lofty rock close by is a watch-tower, where watch is kept night and day. The whole gave us a picture of feudal life new and hardly credible to a nineteenth-century Englishman.

Behind the tower the mountains rise precipitously, and culminate in the Pentedactylon—a prodigious mountain of the Taygetus range.

Murgino made us an estimate of his dependents. He has about 1,000 men, over whom he has absolute authority to call them out or to punish them as he thinks fit. A few days before we came he had had an obstreperous subject, who refused to obey orders, executed. Moreover, he showed a well in which he said he put those from whom he desired to extort money. When times are hard and the olives fail he makes war upon his neighbours, and either robs or blackmails them. The old man assured me that one winter they brought back from 1,000 to 1,500 piastres, from 50l. to 80l., a day.

Such was our host and his surroundings.

As I told you, our object was to examine some remains we had heard rumours of, especially of a Doric temple said to exist in the southern part of Maina, and, by all we could hear, in a tolerable state of preservation; but when we saw the tremendous preparations made by our good captain we found the enterprise beyond all our calculations or means. He declared he could not ensure our safety without his own attendance with a guard of forty men at the least. At this we thought it best, however regrettable, to retire before the expenses we should incur should embarrass us in our return to Athens. So we only stayed two days with Murgino, and then returned to Kalamata.

As you may suppose, I was very sorry to lose an opportunity of perhaps making another discovery of importance, but even as it was I did not regret to have made the visit into Maina. In no part of Europe at any rate, if indeed of the world, could one find such singular scenes or come upon a state of society so exactly like that of our ancient barons. The character of Murgino himself was a study. He was very hardy, bold, vigorous in mind and body, used from a boy to battle with all kinds of reverses.

His father was driven out of his home by the Turks, who brought several frigates and regularly laid siege to Scardamula. He escaped, but he was afterwards taken and hanged at Tripolizza. Murgino himself escaped to Coron, where, however, he was discovered and put in chains. A friendly priest brought him a file, wherewith he effected his escape to the house of the English consul, and was by him protected. He then took service on board a French privateer, and wandered into various parts of the Levant. After some time he reappeared at Scardamula, took possession of his father's castle, and became one of the captains or leaders of the Mainiotes. Then the Turks returned and surrounded him a second time. With a few followers he cut his way through and escaped to Zante. Some months later he came back once more, to find a neighbour had seized his possessions. He collected friends and laid siege to him. His rival was, fortunately for him, killed by a stroke of lightning during the siege, and Murgino came into his own again. But he did not hold it long in peace. He was again attacked by the Turks in force. This time he shut himself in the castle with 62 Greeks, who swore to die rather than yield. For forty days they held the place with muskets against artillery, till all his powder was spent and his towers in ruins. Then he sent a message to the enemy to say that if they would give him two cannon and some powder he would hold the castle a year. Having soothed his mind with this taunt, he prepared to escape to the mountains. First he sent his wife off by night, and then followed with the few survivors of his men, and contrived again to get to Zante. It is characteristic of the man that when he learnt that his son was hanged he called, as he told me, for another glass of rum, saying 'Che serve la melancolia?' Among the ruffianly crew who loafed about the place he pointed me out one or two of the poor fellows who had remained hidden in the hills when he went to Zante. Some had lost a toe or a finger in the frost; others had been maimed in the siege. One youth in particular he indicated, saying 'This fellow's father was a fine fellow; he was crushed in the falling of one of the towers!' Every one had a history.

Somehow, before we parted, I had got to feel a sort of affection for this ruthless cateran. He had an uncommonly open frank manner, he was certainly clean, and he had an air of natural superiority which it was difficult to resist.

I should not have written so much about this if I had not thought it the most interesting part of the tour—but it had not, I admit, much architectural instruction to offer.

From Kalamata we went to Sparta, over a rugged and picturesque road, along the brink of precipices and over the Taygetus. Some time ago it was infested by banditti,[30] and so it still is on the borders of Maina. We arrived late at a small village near Mistra. The road, which passed among overhanging rocks and a wild and fantastic scenery, the effect of which was heightened by the moonlight, was so stony and rugged that we were obliged to walk by far the greater part of the way. Sometimes the shepherds on precipices above us would call out, 'What men are ye?' And we answered, 'Good men.' There was no step of the road that had not its annals of murder or robbery. One of our party, to cheer us, sang us the great deeds of a certain Captain Zaccani, who had been something between a highwayman and a patriot not many years back, infesting this part of the country.

Sparta, I need not tell you, was strong only in its inhabitants. It stood, as no other Greek city did, in a plain. There are no remains. Its present inhabitants, far from being independent, are the most oppressed, the meanest and the stupidest of the Greeks. We stayed only three days for Haller, who had various drawings to make, and then rode from Mistra to Tripolizza in one day. Haller had had a fall from his horse on the way which had strained him a good deal, so we had to stop three days there also. It is the capital of the Morea, and has a caimacam, whom we went to call upon one evening. It chanced to be during the Ramazan. He was very civil and gave us a bouyuruldu, an order which provided us horses gratis to Athens. The details of the visit were very much the same as those of other official visits. We drank coffee and smoked large pipes surrounded by a crowd of chiouks. The large and well-lighted room was filled with Albanian soldiers lying and sitting in all positions on the floor, and we had to be careful in picking our way through them.

We did not stop longer at Argos or Tiryns than was necessary to verify Gell's description.

At Napoli di Romagna, where we were detained for want of horses, we narrowly escaped the bastinado.

Napoli is one of the chief fortresses of the Morea, and the custom on entering such places is to get off one's horse. Our servant, who knew nothing of this, was cruelly beaten by the guard. When we came up we were told of it by the grooms who looked after our luggage, and conjured by the Panagia and the Cross to dismount as we went in. We, however, thought it unbecoming our dignity, and rode boldly in. The guard, seeing so many hats, was awed and said nothing; but we could see by the frowns of the bystanders that our presumption was disapproved, and when we complained to the pasha, the head of the janissaries, of the way our servant was mishandled, he took very little notice of us. Generally speaking the Turks in their fortresses are insufferably intolerant and insolent. Our treatment was no inducement to stay, and we made on for Athens as soon as we could. We visited the sacred grove at Epidaurus,[31] the ruins of MycenÆ,[32] and stayed one day in Corinth. But we were glad to get to Athens; it was like home to us. For three weeks I had slept with my clothes on, without a bed, and with only one blanket to wrap myself in."

[29] It probably was the insurrection, for when it occurred he took an important part in it. He was the opponent of the Mavro Michali faction, headed by Petro Bey.