ÆGINA MARBLES CALLED FOR BY BRITISH GOVERNMENT SHIPS—LEAVES ATHENS FOR CRETE AND EGYPT WITH HON. FRANCIS NORTH—CANEA—CONDITION OF CRETE—BY LAND—RETIMO—KALIPO CHRISTO—CANDIA—AUDIENCE OF THE PASHA—HIS BAND—THE ARCHBISHOP—THE MILITARY COMMANDANT—TURKISH SOCIETY—LIFE IN CANDIA.

"Waiting for me in Athens I found letters from my father detailing the measures he had taken in our favour concerning the marbles. He had moved the Prince Regent, who had given orders that 6,000l. and a free entry should be offered for the collection, and that a ship of war should be sent to fetch it. The offer might be considered equal to 8,000l. The ship might be expected at once.

Here was a bitter disappointment to be unable to accept so splendid an offer, and a painful embarrassment as well; for I had led the Government, quite unintentionally, to suppose that they had only to send for the marbles to secure them. In consequence of which they were sending two great vessels at great expense, whereas I should now have to tell the captain not only that the marbles were no longer in Athens—but that they could not be handed over at all."

At this moment the Honourable Mr. North,[33] an acquaintance already made in Constantinople, had turned up in Athens, and intended making an expedition to Egypt up the Nile as far as Thebes. He proposed to Cockerell and Foster to join him. Egypt had been part of the former's original scheme in planning his travels, and the opportunity of sharing expenses was not one to be lost. So it was agreed, and all preparations were made for the journey. They were to have started in the beginning of November, but were delayed by unfavourable winds.

"I was a month in Athens, for the most part unprofitably, as all time spent in expectation must be. Every day we packed up, to unpack again when the wind went contrary. Finally, on November 29th, the wished-for wind came, and at the same time an express from Captain Percival of the brig-of-war Pauline 25, come for the marbles, called us down to the PirÆus to see the ship sent by the Prince Regent.

It was raining in torrents. Nevertheless we set out, with Haller and Linckh as well, to explain matters. I own my consternation was great when I saw the two big ships come on a bootless quest, for which I was in a way answerable. We had to tell Captain Percival not only that the marbles were now in Zante, but that even if they had been still here he could not have taken them, as they were now to be sold by auction; and, finally, as there was danger of Zante being at any time attacked by the French, to request him to remove them to Malta for greater security. At first Captain Percival was very indignant, not unnaturally; but when he had done his duty in this respect he was very civil and asked us to dine. Ale and porter, which I had not seen for so long, seemed delicious, and I drank so much of it that when, with North, Haller, and Stackelberg, I went aboard our Greek ship to bed, I slept like a stone till the morning drum on the Pauline woke me. The wind was blowing fresh from the north. We drew up our anchor; Haller and Stackelberg shook us by the hand and went ashore.

And now for Candia and Egypt. Good port as the PirÆus is once you are inside, to get in and out of it is very awkward. The brig, of course, well handled, had no difficulty; but we failed altogether at the first attempt, and at the next as near as possible got on to the rocks at the entrance. The Pauline laid to for us till we were out, and then sailed ahead much more quickly than we were able to follow. The day was bright, the wind was fair, and it was new and exhilarating to sail in such good company. At Ægina, where the temple stood up clear for us to see, the brig and the transport lay to, to land a pilot, and we went in front, but they soon caught us up again; and when they passed us, comparing their trimness and order with our state, I saw why a Greek always speaks with such awe of an English ship. Between Hydra—a black and barren rock—and the mainland a storm, which we just escaped, swept along, and our captain seeing it, and thinking dirty weather might come on, steered towards Milo so as to be able to put in there in case of danger, and we parted with our convoy. Of our party I was the only one who was not ill, and appeared at dinner; and as the air was close below among my sick friends, I passed the night on deck in a seaman's coat. In the morning Candia was in sight, and by midday we were in Canea—only twenty-eight hours.

As we drew near, the town, with its many minarets, all white and stretching along a flat, with dark mountains, peak above peak, in very fine forms behind it, had a most striking effect. From a great distance one could distinguish the large arched arsenals built by the Venetians for their galleys. The port is difficult to enter, and we nearly ran ashore here again by mistaking a breach in the wall which encloses the port for the entrance to it. It is a gap which has once been mended by the Turks, but it was so ill done that it fell in again immediately; and now it has been a ruin for some time and seems likely to remain one. We dropped our anchor ill too, so that the stem of our ship ran foul of some rocks, but no harm was done.

We landed, dressed À la Turque, and I felt some 'mauvaise honte' in replying to the salutation of Turks who took us for their fellows, so I was not sorry to take shelter in the house of our consul, Sr. Capo Grosso, a native of Spalatro, with a pretty Tartar wife from the Crimea. It appears that besides himself there are very few Franks living here—only two families descended from the Venetians, and two other Catholic families, all kept in a perpetual tremor by the Turks, who are worse in Crete than anywhere. There are quarrels and murders every day between them and the Greeks. There never was such a state as the country is in. The military power consists of a local militia of janissaries and none other, so that their captains are able to terrorise the pasha into doing anything they please. But the militia, again, is composed of various regiments, and they are at variance with each other. So that you have both anarchy and civil war. Fancy, how nice!

The Venetians long possessed the island, and the fortifications and public buildings, which are really very noble, as well as every other decent thing in the place, are of their production. Indeed, in walking through the city, judging by the look of the buildings, one might imagine oneself in a Frank country, except that they are all left to go to rack and ruin. The sea walls are so neglected that the port is almost destroyed.

It is, as I said, a fortified town, and the Turks are absurdly jealous of any stranger and possible spy. One cannot stir out without being closely watched, and they shoot at anything which incurs the slightest suspicion—a Frankish hat, for instance. In consequence it was impossible to do any sketching, however much I might wish to.

The weather looked thoroughly bad. It poured all day, with a north wind which forbade all thoughts of sailing.

To make the best use of our time, it was proposed that we should make an expedition to see Ida and the famous Labyrinth; but as Mr. North is no mountain climber he settled to wait in the ship for a fair wind to carry him to Candia, where whichever of us should arrive first was to await the other.

There was some delay in starting, because the rascally Turk from whom we first tried to job our horses came to a dispute with his agroates about the pay they were to get. Though he was to get ten piastres per horse, he would only give them five. As they could not agree, the negotiation fell through and it was rather late before we got others.

We were Douglas,[34] Foster, and myself, the consul's dragoman and two janissaries. Outside the ramparts, which are certainly strong, one comes on a fine plain dotted with white villas and thick with olives. One owner whose house we passed, Hagi Imin Effendi, makes as many as 60,000 barrels of oil per annum, which at 60 piastres a barrel represents a vast income. Having crossed the plain, one comes to Suda Bay, an excellent harbour, a mile and a half or two miles in length. The entrance is protected by an island with a famous fortress upon it which resisted the Turks for thirty-five years after the reduction of the rest of Crete. It has 260 pieces of cannon now. Soapmaking is one of the chief industries of Crete. Along Suda Bay were numbers of salt-pans for winning the salt wanted for the soapmaking. A Venetian road, once good, now in a ruinous condition, led us along a cliff flanked with watch-towers, and presently turned inland. Before us was a beautiful hilly country covered with olives, and in the distance Ida white with snow. On our right the Sphakiote Mountains, high and pointed, very like Maina to look at, and not unlike it in respect of its population, though it has not been quite so fortunate. The Sphakiotes maintained their independence till forty-three years ago, but then they were reduced by the Turks, and have been paying taxes ever since, and furnishing sailors for the Turkish shipping. These sailors act as hostages for the good behaviour of their relatives. All the same they are a bold people never without arms, and prompt in the use of them.

We slept that night at a wretched khan at Neokorio in company with our horses and their vagabond drivers, and fleas in infinite abundance. Thomas, Douglas's English servant, made an ill-timed joke here, which might have been awkward among such savage people. The Turks at suppertime pressed round him to see what was in our food-bag, and he, to be rid of them, told them it was full of pork. At this they expressed the greatest disgust, pressed upon us to know if it was true, and refused to eat anything that night. However, nothing more came of it. Fleas and the manifold varieties of stinks drove us to get through our night's rest as quickly as possible. We were up and away two hours before daybreak, scrambling along a rough road. When the sun rose the effect of it on the snow-covered Sphakiote Hills was magnificent. Our way was through a country rich in olives and full of beautiful scenes. Well situated at the entrance to a valley leading up from the sea, as a defence against piratical descents, was a fortress with a p????? [Greek: pyrgos] or watch-tower, built by the Venetians. It is of the fine workmanship they always used, with well-arranged quarters for troops, moat, &c., all very neat and well executed. There we went down on to the sands and continued along them for a length of time till we reached a small river and the ruins of a splendid Venetian bridge. Thence still along the seaside, but over rocks and past watch-towers standing within gunshot of each other, till we rose again on to a height from which we gained a grand view of Retimo. We crossed a bridge, a double arch of great depth, prodigiously effective, and there I stopped to make a sketch before descending into the town, while the luggage went on. But when we followed I was met by the dragoman before I had dismounted. He looked very pale, and telling me that my stopping by the road had been remarked and commented upon, entreated me not to say what I had been doing, but to give in fact a much more natural reason. I had already, at Canea, been warned of the danger of drawing the fortress; so, my love of truth notwithstanding, I was obliged for the dragoman's sake, he being responsible, to do as he asked.

We were received into the house of Achmet Aga, the karahayah. He was not at home himself at the time, but his nephews and relatives made us welcome. As soon as he came in we were ushered into an upper room into his presence. He was a remarkably handsome old man with a long white beard. He received us with a proud, not to say cold, hospitality; so much so that when we thanked him for his polite offer of his house, as he said it was ours, he looked the other way.

As we drank coffee we made our apologies for our dirty appearance, but he only said he feared we were not comfortable and begged us to rest ourselves. His manner was haughty not only to us but to the wretched flatterers who came to pay him homage; it was such that I was quite offended. His servants treated him with the most abject respect, and even his two nephews, men of thirty or thereabouts, sat at the side without the divan, not venturing to approach him. And yet, notwithstanding his manner, his treatment of us was hospitality and civility itself. He had a son of sixteen or seventeen years dressed in a Bosnian costume—one of the handsomest lads I ever saw, like the youths one imagines in reading the Arabian tales. He came by his father's order to sit by me and entertain me. I asked him if he had ever travelled, and whether he would come to Egypt with me and see the world. He replied very politely that to please me he would do so. The audience being over, we went out and strolled down to the port. It has lately been deepened by a Maltese engineer, but is very small, and might hold fifteen or twenty polaccas at the most. After seeing it we returned to get ready for the dinner to which our host had invited us. As usual in such houses one had to dress in the midst of a crowd of servants, negroes, dervishes, and hangers-on. We put on our best clothes and went up. In the corner of the sofa or raised divan was placed a large round tray on a small stool, and we sat round it cross-legged. Over our knees was stretched a long napkin from one to the other, and a small one was thrown over each man's shoulder. We ate with our fingers, pinching off bits of meat from the same plate in the middle. Our janissary was invited to eat with us. The dinner was dressed in the harem. The servant tapped at the door communicating with it from the passage, and the dishes were handed in. There were many of them, and they were sent away by our host without any apparent notice of any disposition on our part to detain them. We had a stew of fowls, another of mutton, some strange made-dishes, a soup, a number of cakes, and I particularly remember some made of flour and cheese which were excellent. We greased our fingers handsomely and washed them as soon as we had done. For us there was wine, but Achmet would not drink any himself: not from virtue, he said, but because it did not agree with him. The handsome son waited without the divan and took orders from his father. Before dinner was over an old Turk came in with a fiddle and played or told long stories the whole evening. I was obliged to him, for it supplied the place of conversation, which did not seem to flourish. In the evening numbers of Turks came in to see the 'Inglesi,' and would have pressed forward, but until our dinner was done they were kept outside the sofa. Afterwards we formed into a sort of conversazione—very few words and much gravity. Finally the beautiful youth, the host's son, made beds for us of two quilts and a pillow on the sofa, and there we slept. I wonder what a young squire in England would say if his father told him to make beds for his guests.

Next morning we were much pressed to stay both by our host and his son, but we had to resist, much as we had been pleased with our entertainment. So we distributed plentiful bakshish and rode away.

Our road lay along the shore, with fine views of Retimo and the Sphakiote Hills. Then over a high ridge to a khan at the foot of Ida. Here we had some refreshments and a dispute with the khangee, who tried to steal one of our spoons under cover of great professions of friendliness. After Avlopotamo the road became very dangerous. It ran by the side of awful precipices and over slippery rocks, and it was getting dark. Indeed, had it been lighter I don't suppose we should have ridden over it. In one place our janissary fell, and his horse's legs dangled over the precipice in a way to make one's blood run cold. No roads in Maina could be worse. The light of a fire beckoned us from afar to the monastery of Kalipo Christo, but we found the gate closed and the papades not to be seen. They were frightened and had hidden themselves. The fact is, the Turks in the country here are so brutal and lawless that if they once get into a monastery of this kind they eat and drink all they can get, never think of paying, and perhaps rob or murder some of the monks. There were several little boys hanging about to peep at us, one of whom our janissary caught, and by drawing his sword and threatening to imbrue it in his blood he terrified him into fetching the monks out of their concealment. Once in, the papades were very communicative. They told us that their convent was not freehold, and that it belonged to a Turk of Canea, who exacted an exorbitant rent. The ruinous condition of the villages which we observed as we came along was due, they said, to the earthquake of February 14, 1810. It came, as they always do, with a west wind, and as many as two thousand lives were lost. A blackguardly Tartar came and sat with us, with whom we presently quarrelled, and finally, when his behaviour grew intolerable, we had to kick him out.

We left early, but our Tartar must have been ashamed of himself, for we saw nothing of him; he had gone on. The road wound up and up among barren rocks for about five hours, till we reached the ridge and a stupendous view of Candia, Ida, and the sea. In three hours more we reached Candia, and took up our quarters in the house of a Jew. There, in the course of the evening, we received a visit from the dragoman of the pasha, a very stupid Greek, who tried to be very, very grand, and later from the master of the pasha's household, Chiouk Emene, a most urbane Turk. He was very particularly proud of his watch, and produced it, compared it with ours, and begged me to say his was the best.

We had to wait till the pasha should be ready to receive us at one o'clock. Then he sent to us, and we walked off through the streets to his palace, locally known as the porte. The entrance was surrounded with a crowd of janissaries. When we had passed them we were ushered into the room of the secretary, whom we found sitting in one corner of his sofa, surrounded with agas in so much state that I mistook him for the pasha himself. We were there but a few minutes, but long enough to see that he must be a man of talent. We afterwards learnt that he was and had many accomplishments. He could write, ride, and play the djerid better than anyone. The djerid he could cast as high as a minaret. Presently we were led through a crowd of servants into the presence of the pasha. He was in the corner, sitting in great magnificence. His pelisse was worth 20,000 piastres. By his side was a diamond-hilted dagger and two snuff-boxes set in diamonds and pearls. Three chairs, covered with red brocade, were placed before him for us to sit on. Our two dragomans stood on either side of us, and, at each word spoken and answered to the pasha, moved their heads and their hands from their mouth to their head. The conversation was as follows. We were asked whence we came, and when we had replied, the friendship between the Porte and England was referred to, and the pasha desired the Jew—our host—to treat us, being Englishmen, with all possible attention. The mention of authority led the pasha to tell us that he commanded in Retimo and Canea, as well as in Candia. He next begged to know if we brought any news; whether there had been any fighting in the west of Europe; and whether Buonaparte had put into execution his threat of invading England. To this we replied that he knew better than to try.

Sweetmeats were then handed round, and rose-water and other essences sprinkled out of narrow-necked bottles on to our hands and wiped with a beautifully embroidered napkin. After about half an hour we rose, and the pasha having said 'You are welcome: I am glad of your arrival,' we withdrew. Our departure was marked by the usual battle among the chiouks for bakshish.

Our treatment by the pasha had had a great effect throughout the city, so that when we walked through it we were everywhere stared at as foreign grandees, just as the Persian ambassador was in London. As we passed people invited us into their houses, and a boy from a cafanÉ threw down hot water before us, a thing we understood to be an altogether exceptional compliment, and which had of course to be exceptionally rewarded. It was now about two hours after midday, and at that hour it seems the band of the pasha always plays to the public. We saw it sitting on the top of a house, and stopped in a shop over the way to hear it discoursing what appeared to me to be the most excruciating discords. When it was over two chiouks came forward, crying, 'Pray first for the grand signor, and then for our pasha.' We turned home, and found that the Emene aga had just been, bringing the compliments of the pasha and a present consisting of six loaves of sugar, three packets of wax candles, twenty in a packet, and three pots of honey. We expressed our lively gratitude in all the best Greek we could command.

In the evening the pasha sent us his band to entertain us. It consisted of six performers, mostly Persians. Their instruments were a dulcimer, a violin of three strings held in the right hand, the bow in the left, a Persian pipe which had some really beautiful tones, melancholy, soft, and sentimental, a guitar with a very long handle, a panpipe with twenty-one pipes, and a double drum, which was beaten by the man who did the singing. I could not observe that they had guidance in their playing, except such as the ear gave them; but by dint of practice they managed to keep their instruments together, and the result was, I thought, rather tender and pleasing. As for our poor dragoman, who had heard no music since he had left Constantinople, he was quite overcome and dissolved in tears.

We paid a visit to the archbishop. He seemed to have as many religious attendants as the pasha had secular ones, but he received us in a very unaffected way at his door and showed us over his church. His answers to our questions showed him to have very little learning. Pausanias he had never even heard of. Thence we went on to pay a visit to the captain of 'fourteen,' the chief of the five regiments here, the military commandant in fact. He has under him from 25,000 to 30,000 troops, second only for insubordination and lack of discipline to those at Canea, where they are in chronic open rebellion. We found him in his room, a fat vulgar man with a good many handsome arms about him; among them a shield which he told me is still in use. Ali, our janissary, showed me afterwards how it is handled, and anything more barbarous or inexpert I never saw.

Being such rare birds, and received with so much form and cordiality by the pasha, all the notabilities were anxious to see us. Many Turkish agas and others signified their wish to visit us, and our poor house, alas! alas! was full of them from morning to night. Some were polite, but most of them merely curious to view us. Few questions were asked, and those few not in the least intelligent. In fact, we have been acting the part of embassy, and we could not do otherwise. Received and stared at and made much of as we were, we were obliged to try and do credit to our country. Besides there was nothing else to do; we were practically under surveillance. No drawings could be made, nor studies of Mount Ida or the beautiful country. I was always fuming over the waste of time, but there was no help for it.

As soon as the novelty is worn off, Turks and Turkish manners become very uninteresting. Their outward bearing is very dignified, but their society is inexpressibly dull. Those few who had travelled ever so little, even so far as Malta, could be distinguished at once. A little glimpse of the world had sufficed to remove their ridiculous Turkish superbia and make them respect their neighbours."