BACK INTO CIVILISATION—NASLI BAZAR—NYSA—GUZUL—HISSAR (MAGNESIA)—THE PLAGUE—AISALUCK (EPHESUS)—SCALA NUOVA—A STORM—SAMOS—PRIENE—CANNA—GERONTA—KNIDOS—RHODES—MR. NORTH AGAIN—SAILS FOR PATARA—CASTEL ROSSO—CACAVA—MYRA—THE SHRINE OF ST. NICOLAS—TROUBLES WITH NATIVES—A WATER SNAKE—FINICA—CAROSI—OLYMPUS—VOLCANIC FIRE—PHASELIS—FALLS IN WITH THE FREDERIKSTEEN.

"Two days' riding down the river brought us to Nasli Bazar, which is within the government of Karasman Oglu, and the fact was at once perceptible. Greeks were numerous and impudent, trade flourishing, and the bazaar full of all kinds of merchants. It is the great mart for the interior. I had to pass the night in a wretched khan. In the chamber adjoining mine was a slave merchant with two young negresses, one of whom had a child for sale, and also a fine young negro.

I followed the valley of the Meander to Sultan Hissar. On the way I went up a steep ascent to see the ruins of Nysa. They stand on an elevated plain over the river, and command a grand view and good air above the malarious bed of the Meander and its bordering marshes. There is first of all a large agora, with traces of temples in or around it. Further on, in the side of the mountain, is a very considerable theatre, with the remains of the proscenium and apartments for actors &c. on all sides. Seated in the theatre one had a glorious view of the senate house and prison, with the amphitheatre beyond, and the bridge which spans a gully in one magnificent arch. All these buildings are in a grandiose style, very impressive, and made all the more so by their absolute solitude. In Nysa was but one man, a shepherd, who had taken up his abode in one of the arches of the theatre.

After a stay there of two hours we went on down the valley. We had now quite left the desert behind us and come into civilisation, cultivation, and orderly government. Every two or three miles we passed a cafanÉ and a guard, with an air of order and discipline. My janissary was full of admiration for Karasman Oglu, and related to me stories illustrating his character. I recollect two. A Greek merchant going to Akhissar was robbed by four Turks of 800 sequins. The poor man made his complaint to Karasman Oglu, who at once gave him the money, as recognising his responsibility for order, and that the merchant might not stand out of his money while it was being recovered. Then he despatched his police, who in a few days brought in the four Turks, and they were then and there hanged. The Turks resent his protection of the Greeks and Christians, and call it partiality. Hearing of this, Karasman called together the chief Turks of Magnesia, and when he had given them coffee, he told them that he had summoned them as he wished to raise a sum of 30,000 piastres for government purposes, and they should be repaid in a few months with the interest due. The proposition being received with dead silence, he sent for four poor Greek primates of some small villages in the neighbourhood, and made them the same proposal in the presence of the Turks. They at once assented, and the money was brought in an hour. 'Now,' said he, 'you see why I prefer the Greeks. The first of you who complains again shall lose his head.'

When we got in the evening to Guzul Hissar I found the reports I had picked up on the road exaggerated in two main particulars. I had been told that the plague was raging in the town, and that there were English corn-merchants to whom I could apply for harbourage. There was a good deal of plague, no doubt, in the town, which is extensive, but hardly enough to deter one from entering it; while the nearest thing to an English merchant was a Genoese merchant living in the house of a Sardinian doctor who enjoyed English protection. They made room for me, and were very kind and hospitable; and it was a comfort to be in a Frank house, but outside it was rather nervous work. A house close to our lodging was infected by the plague, and as I was going down the street a Greek warned me to make room for him. 'I have nothing the matter with me,' said he, 'but a few days ago my brother died of the plague.' Need I say that I complied at once. The panic that grows in a plague-stricken city, and which one cannot help imbibing, has a strange effect on characters. The woman of the neighbouring house, which, as I said, was impestata, was seen going about out of doors by my host the doctor, and he was beside himself at the sight.

The importance of Guzul Hissar as a place of commerce arises from its standing on the track of the corn trade between the interior and Scala Nuova. I came upon caravans of one hundred to one hundred and fifty camels, bringing corn from CÆsarea. Some bring it from even as far as the borders of Persia. Once here, its value is doubled or trebled; but the greed of the agas and the roguery of the Greek merchants prevent much of the profit going to the growers. Signor Mora told me that the great trouble he found was the system of constant douceurs and bribery. It makes it impossible for a merchant to make his calculations.

I walked up to see the few remains of the city of Magnesia. Like all Greek cities, it stood above the plain. There is a theatre just discernible, a stadium below it, and a few remnants of a gymnasium. One night in Guzul Hissar was enough for me, and next day I started for Scala Nuova; and leaving the valley of the Meander on the left, kept by the mountain to the right, and came late to Aisaluck, the ancient Ephesus. Here I dismissed my janissary and horses, and, relieved of my expensive suite, spent a blissful, tranquil day alone. The castle is a vile Turkish fort. The great mosque, in which are some grand columns of granite, is fine, and, like the others—for there are many in the place—thoroughly well executed in the true Oriental taste. The degraded modern Turk is incapable of producing anything half so good.

The remains of Ephesus are very trifling, and what there are, are in a very poor style. I did not, any more than other travellers, find out the Temple of Diana,[39] though of course I have my own opinion as to the site. Aisaluck is now an almost deserted town. It has only about fifteen inhabited houses, and the mosques and forts are in ruinous condition, but their number and splendour show that it must once have been an important Turkish city. I called on the aga, and by way of a present gave him a little gunpowder, with which he was delighted. My lodging was in a miserable little cafanÉ, anything but a palace of luxury. The fleas within, added to the jackals howling without, prevented my getting any rest. But it was not much worse than my other lodgings on this tour. Luxuries have been few. All I can say is I have learnt not to miss them. In my Turkish dress I pass without observation or inconvenience. In the evening, after eating my meal, I smoke my pipe with the other Turks, go to sleep and get up early.

I rode from Aisaluck to Scala Nuova, which is only four hours off, and from thence I took a passage for Samos on a Maltese brig of twelve hands and six guns and set sail the following morning (March 25th); but when we had made half the passage, which is by rights only about two hours, we met a furious wind which obliged us to put back. I went ashore again, and as the wind rose to the force of a hurricane I watched out of my window no less than eighteen boats and vessels of various sizes blown ashore and wrecked under my very eyes. It was a scene of incredible destruction. The shore was strewn with wreckage and cargoes which had been thrown overboard—oranges, corn, barrels of all sorts of goods—while the sailors, ruined, although thankful to have escaped with their lives, sat round fires in some sheds by the port, the pictures of dejection.

The wind detained me till the 28th, when I crossed over in a boat to Bathi in Samos. Here I had to wait first for horses, and then on account of the bad weather. I had to stay indoors, and indoors in a Greek house means anything but privacy. No matter where you sit, you hear everything that goes on in it. Application of any kind is out of the question. In this case, the consular court being at the other end of the house, I had to hear the cases proceeding in it. One in especial went on in detached chapters all the time I was there. A Zantiote had deserted his wife and children eighteen years ago in Mykoni. He had since lived and been married in Cyprus, while the deserted wife went to Smyrna and maintained herself and the children by hard work. She had done what she could to find her husband, in vain, till just as I arrived she discovered him in Samos. She haled him before the consul and demanded that he, being rich, should support her. Not till the whole assembly had joined the bench in calling him every name they could invent would he consent, but finally he signed an agreement to live with his wife in Samos and support the daughter. But this was but the beginning. Every day we had visits from both parties to complain that the conditions were not adhered to: he to say that the agreement to live with them did not involve supporting them; they to say they must be supported, and meanwhile, as they were half starved, to take an opportunity of satisfying their appetites at the consulate.

I made acquaintance of a pleasant Russian, Monsieur Marschall, and with him crossed the island to see the antiquities—first of the ancient city and then of the Temple of Juno, lying three-quarters of an hour to the eastward of it. There is only one column of it remaining, but that one very finely cut and of beautiful marble. A few years ago, I understand, there were still many standing; but some were blown up for the sake of the metal rivets, and others knocked over by the Turkish men of war, who, as they were very white, used them as a target for gunnery practice. We returned to the village of Samos for the night, and lodged with the bishop, who was more hospitable than Greeks generally are. He was a man of some ingenuity and amusing, but very ignorant and superstitious.

We went by Bathi to Geronta and across the Bogas to Changlu on the mainland—rode to Kelibesh over the top of range of hills commanding the valley of the Meander—and the lake of Myus—and on to Sansun Kalesi (Priene), which I was very glad to see. It is an exceedingly fine site. Unfortunately it rained and blew so violently that I could not do much; but if one could stay and dig in the temple, I dare say one might find a treasure of statues, for it remains exactly as it fell.

Two days after, we set out, riding along the foot of Mount Titanus, in frequent danger of being bogged in the low new-made ground of the Meander, which near the sea is covered with sedge and rushes inhabited by numberless waterfowl. The scenery was often very fine. We reached the corn warehouses at Canna after midday, and found there my Sardinian corn-merchant friend from Guzul Hissar. He was trying to make up a cargo, and at the moment was full of the wrongs suffered by merchants in this country. A caravan of fifteen camels he was expecting had been stopped by an aga, the corn they carried unloaded and left by the road, while the camels were sent away to carry cotton into the interior.

Here we hired a boat; but, hearing firing in the Bogas, which we could only attribute to a pirate, we were not without some qualms at starting. With this in our heads, when we saw a large caique making directly towards us, we were naturally enough alarmed and made for the mouth of the Meander, and there remained till the bark came up and proved itself to be only a fishing caique. Setting forward again with a very strong wind, we reached the port of Geronta after dark. The boatman mistook the entrance and very nearly ran us on to a rock some distance from the shore, upon which he got into a fright and lost all presence of mind. The wind, as I said, being very high, the position was so serious that Marschall and I took the management of the bark, and giving the man a cuff sent him forward to look out for the port. In this fashion we found it and got in. Even then we were not well off, for the place was perfectly solitary, and we had no mind to remain all night in the boat. It grew extremely dark, and it was an hour and a half before we could find the village. On the way to it, we passed the massive remains of the Temple of Apollo DidymÆus, and as they loomed through the darkness they looked very grand—grander than I thought them next morning by daylight. The village of Geronta is only about thirty years old and is inhabited entirely by Albanian and Greek immigrants who seem fairly prosperous. The pasha, Elis Oglu, like his neighbour Karasman Oglu, is a great patron of Greeks. We set sail at night, but had to put back, after a hard night, to a port close to Geronta and wait there three days till the weather improved.

When at last we got away, in five hours we were off Cape Ciron, which ends in a lofty hill by which is Knidos. At my request the captain went into the port, and very glad I was to see the place; the situation is so curious: but I found no inscription or antiquities of any kind. I slept in the boat, and we started at midnight. The wind was furious; and as the bark laboured and strained in the waves, Dimitri groaned with fear. It was indeed far from pleasant; but as the day came on the wind went down, till we were absolutely becalmed off the little island of Symi, and did not get into Rhodes till afternoon.

I was preparing to go to visit the consul, and had walked a few yards in that direction when I saw another boat come into port, and in it, to my surprise, who but Mr. North. He was as astonished as myself, and as pleased. We went together to the consul's. There we had long conversation on the subject of the island, its inhabitants, products, &c.

The present governor of Rhodes is Hassan Bey, slave of a previous governor—a man of great simplicity of life. I found him sitting in the passage of his palace without attendants or pomp. Although he is about seventy years old and deaf, he received as a present, by the same boat as Mr. North came in, a female slave. He builds ships here for Government, and has one, a frigate, for his own behoof, which he uses himself for piratical purposes while with it he clears the neighbouring seas of all other pirates.

Two days after, I left Rhodes and sailed eastwards with a light breeze, till in the evening we were becalmed off the Seven Capes. In the morning I was awakened by strange voices on board. We had been boarded by Hydriotes inquiring for corn. Their ship had been lying off the coast for some days, boarding every boat that passed for corn. She was a large ship with a crew of sixty men, who seemed to spend all their time in merrily dancing and fiddling. We rowed into the port, which is a fine harbour, and when I had landed I found a boy to undertake to guide us to Patara. It took two hours to walk there, keeping all the way by the side of an aqueduct. We met a few savage-looking Turks armed, and a boy or two playing on wild simple reeds. The whole country was very wild and desolate, and the road a mere track.

The ruins are considerable, and, although none of them belong to the finest time, very interesting. They have an inexpressibly forlorn appearance, standing as they do half buried in the sand. The once extensive port is entirely silted up.

The theatre is half filled up. I found in it an inscription, from which I gathered that the auditorium is of later date than the proscenium.

Near the head of the port are two large mausolea, at least I suppose that is what they are; and besides these there are the remains of fortifications of the Lower Empire and of several churches. I could not get over to examine the buildings on the opposite side of the port.

We started for Castel Rosso, but were becalmed. The boys played and danced, and we did not get in till the evening. The port, a poor one, is defended by a castle which is red, whence the name. The few savages we found on the beach received us with great suspicion, with arms in their hands, but sold us some provisions. In the morning I landed and looked about. Inside the walls there are many ruins of houses, all of the Lower Empire, while the walls themselves are of much earlier date in cyclopean masonry. Outside the old walls and in the modern town there are several ancient tombs that have been respected and are in good preservation. The ground is incredibly rugged and stony, almost as bad as Maina.

We sailed off at midday, and got to the small port of Cacava in the evening. There, among the modern houses, are a number of tombs, all of them respected and well preserved. As the cross is on most of them, the town must have flourished during the Lower Empire. I found and copied various inscriptions, some of them in a character I have not seen before. In the evening we crossed to Myra, and there I enjoyed a good bathe. Then when night had come on, we worked the oars against wind till we reached a port at the east end of Karadah, and when it was morning crossed to visit the shrine of St. Nicolas. The sea was so high we had to leave the caique and walk thither. St. Nicolas is a favourite saint of the Greeks, and his shrine is greatly revered. Our captain and crew were all dressed in their very best to make their cross, and had brought with them a bottle of oil as an offering. The road was wretched, and what made it worse was that in wading across a river which was over my knees I so wetted my shalvar that they were heavy to walk in. At the mouth of the river Zanthus we found many tombs, but none of which I could read the inscription.

The holy place consists of half of a ruined church of the Lower Empire, and by the side of it a small chapel in which is the tomb. The entrance to it is so low that we were obliged to go down on our hands and knees to get in. The Greeks knelt down, bowed their foreheads to the earth, made crosses and said prayers; then, putting some parahs on a tray, took some small candles from a bundle beside it, and stuck them round the tomb. The ceremony being over, we took some earth from near the tomb to keep as a relic, and fell into conversation with the papa of the shrine, Nicola by name, native of Salonica. He told us that early in life in a severe illness he had vowed service to St. Nicolas for the rest of his life if he recovered: that, being restored to health, he had come here in fulfilment of his vow, but that he led but a miserable life, in constant apprehension of the Turks, who are very violent and fanatical hereabouts.

I went on with Dimitri and the captain to see some remains of which he told me, at no great distance, but the other Greeks were afraid to accompany me or even to show me the way. However, I found the ruins—a theatre in astonishing preservation, and some highly interesting tombs, and was quietly taking measurements of them when several Turks appeared. They seemed highly to disapprove of our operations. While examining some statues I heard one of them exclaim: 'If the infidels are attracted here by these blasphemous figures the temptation shall soon cease, for when that dog is gone I will destroy them.' Then some of them went away and presently came back with a larger party. While I was above in the upper part of the building, they suddenly seized the arms of Dimitri and the captain, and ordered us to follow them to the aga, who lived at a distance of no less than six hours off. At this I remonstrated, saying that I was an Englishman, a friend; but they answered that I lied, that we were giaour Russians, and were plotting to take possession of the place. They wanted to examine our things, but this I resisted. My firman unfortunately was left behind in the boat, and matters began to look ugly. The least encouragement from the elder members would have led the crowd of ruffians to take strong measures. I could perceive that, but I saw no exit from our dilemma. There was, fortunately, still one elder of the village to be consulted, and he was ill at home. The chief of our captors went off to consult him, and a quarter of an hour later returned a different man, his rage assuaged, and willing to accept the captain's assurance that I was an Englishman. He then returned me my arms and begged that I would go where I thought proper. Of course I was very much pleased at this dÉnouemeut, but I kept my countenance and pretended to be still very angry, at which the leader, who was now afraid of me, positively quailed for fear of my vengeance. We slept the night under protection of St. Nicolas.

Accompanied by the papas, we took a boat on the river and rowed down to the port at the mouth, and across the bay to the port where our bark lay. While I was swimming, following the boat, I was not a little frightened to meet a large snake which was making for the land. I got out of its way hastily and called to the boys in the caique, who killed it as it approached the shore. It was black, with some red spots on the belly, and measured five feet two inches in length. We heaved anchor at night, and in the morning reached the port of Finica.

The town itself is three-quarters of an hour from the sea. There are the remains of a theatre, the seats all gone, and a castle of the Lower Empire, built of the said seats. I found various monuments, the inscriptions all in the same unknown character. At a mill hard by, I fell in with a number of merchants belonging to Sparta, in Asia Minor, six days from here. It is curious that they all talk Turkish, but write it in Greek characters. I found them very bigoted but civil. We slept in the open air, all in a row. As I had promised them some fish, they lent me a horse, and one of them accompanied me back to the port; but unfortunately no fish had been caught in the night, so I had to make up for it with five okes of olives and a large botza of wine, on which my friends got excessively drunk.

We now got on board and tried to beat out of port, but it was not so easy. It is very narrow, and a south-east wind, such as we had at the moment, blows right into it. Once out, we crossed the bay and got into the small port of Carosi.

We had now to get round the cape. All along this coast an imbat or sea breeze springs up from the south regularly at midday. As we took care, by rowing hard southwards, to get round the point before twelve, we caught the breeze nicely, which carried us straight north to Porto Genovese by night.

This is a fine port, and the rocks above it are very grand. We caught and ate a fine supper of fish, and sat cross-legged on our little deck drinking wine with an enjoyment of this adventurous, unconventional life I can never forget. The night was cool, the moon shone bright upon us, and we crowned the evening with Moriote songs. It was past midnight before we got to bed.

It was a short distance to the foot of Olympus. When I met Captain F. Beaufort at Smyrna, he gave me an account of the volcanic fire which springs up out of a hole in the side of this mountain, and I wished to see it. It lies about an hour's walk up the hill. The flame was just like that of a furnace, and the mouth, about five feet wide, from which it issued, was all calcined. Ten feet from it was another mouth, from which no fire but a strong sulphurous smell issued, and about fifty yards higher up the hill there was a spring. Close by there were also the remains of a temple, showing that the spot had been held sacred in ancient times. My guide told me that the fire would roast eggs well, but not if they were stolen—indeed it would not act upon stolen things at all. Greeks are very superstitious, and this is one of the favourite forms it takes with them. I tried to confute him by cutting a scrap off his turban while his back was turned and showing him how it burned, but although he saw it consumed it did not shake his belief in the least.

I went downhill again to the ruins. They consisted mostly of Venetian or Genoese work, but there was the door of a portico erected to Germanicus, a small theatre on the south side of the river, and some very rough tombs of Roman times, among which I drew until nightfall.

Next morning we had an enchanting sail to Phaselis. The breeze was slight and the dolphins played all round us, as though they enjoyed the fair weather. Phaselis was once a favourite stronghold of pirates, and is just made for it. It stands on a peninsula easily defended, and has or had—for all are now destroyed—three excellent harbours. The town was defended by a strong wall, and was provided with numbers of cisterns, besides an aqueduct for bringing water from the mainland. Where the sea had undermined the cliffs, parts of the wall and sides of cisterns had fallen away into it. There were some tombs only just recently mutilated, which I thought worth making drawings of. In the evening we put out our net and caught some fish, but lost part of the net, owing to an octopus which clung to it and dragged it into its hole.

April 28th.—We weighed anchor early, but there was no wind as yet, and we had rowed for some hours when we became aware of a large sail coming up on a breeze. As I scanned her I had little doubt she would be the Salsette or the Frederiksteen; but my poor captain was very much frightened, and when he saw her send a boat to board a small vessel before us, he desired his sons to hide his money in the ballast. It was not long, however, before I made out with my glass the red cross, and then I was able to set his mind at rest. When our little caique came alongside, we must have been a shabby sight; but Captain Beaufort bade me heartily welcome and gave me so cordial a shake of the hand as I can never forget. He said he had hunted for me all along the coast, and pressed me to take a cruise with him, rather than go on travelling in this hazardous fashion in the caique. The offer was tantalising; but, as I was not sure if I should feel at my ease, I only promised to stay a few days to begin with."

Extract from Beaufort's "Karamania."—"At Avova we had the satisfaction of meeting Mr. Cockerell, who had been induced by our report to explore the antiquities of these desolate regions. He had hired a small Greek vessel, and had already coasted part of Lycia. Those who have experienced the filth and other miseries of such a mode of conveyance, and who know the dangers that await an unprotected European among these tribes of uncivilised Mahommedans, can alone appreciate the ardour which could lead to such an enterprise. I succeeded in persuading him to remove to His Majesty's ship, in which he might pursue his researches with less hazard and with some degree of comfort. The alarm felt by his crew on seeing the frigate had been excessive. Had she been a Turkish man-of-war, they were sure of being pillaged under the pretext of exacting a present; if a Barbary cruiser, the youngest men would have been forcibly seized for recruits, and the rest plundered; and even if she had been a Greek merchant-ship, their security would still have been precarious; for when one of these large Greek polaccas meets even her own countrymen in small vessels and in unfrequented places she often compels them to assist in loading her, or arbitrarily takes their cargoes at her own prices."

[39] The Temple of Diana was discovered by Mr. J. T. Wood, who carried on excavations from 1863 to 1874 on behalf of the British Museum.