Consequences of trying to buy a horse--An expedition into
Servia--Fine scenery--The peasants of New Moldova--Szechenyi
road--Geology of the defile of Kasan--Crossing the
Danube--Milanovacz-Drive to Maidenpek--Fearful storm in the
mountains--Miserable quarters for the night--Extent of this
storm--The disastrous effects of the same storm at Buda-Pest--Great
loss of life.
My friend H---- is the very impersonation of sound practical sense. The
next morning he coolly broke in upon my raptures over the beauty of the
Oravicza ladies by saying, "You want to buy a horse, don't you?"
Of course I did, but my thoughts were elsewhere at the moment, and with
some reluctance I took my hat and followed my friend to interview a
Wallack who had heard that I was a likely purchaser, and brought an
animal to show me. It would not do at all, and we dismissed him.
A little later we went out into the town, and I thought there was a
horse-fair; I should think we met a dozen people at least who came up to
accost me on the subject of buying a horse. And such a collection of
animals!--wild colts from the Pustza that had never been ridden at all,
and other ancient specimens from I know not where, which could never be
ridden again--old, worn-out roadsters. There were two or three good
horses, but they were only fit for harness. I was so bothered every time
I put my nose out of doors by applications from persons anxious to part
with their property in horse-flesh, that I wished I had kept my
intentions locked in my own breast. I was pestered for days about this
business. There was an old Jew who came regularly to the house three
times a-day to tell me of some other paragon that he had found. When he
saw that it was really of no use, he then complained loudly that I had
wasted his precious time, that he had given up every other occupation
for the sake of finding me a horse. I dismissed this Jew, telling him
pretty sharply to go about his own business for once, adding that
nothing should induce me to buy a horse in Oravicza.
One day H---- informed me that he was going over to Servia on a matter
of business, and if I liked to accompany him, I should see something of
the country, and perhaps I might find there a horse to suit me. The
Servian horses are said to be a useful breed, strong though small, and
very enduring for a long march.
I was very ready for the expedition, so we hired a _leiterwagen_, which
is in fact a long cart with sides like a ladder, peculiarly suitable for
rough work. I was much surprised to find the Hungarians far less often
in the saddle than I expected; it is true, nobody walks, not even the
poorest peasant, but they drive, as a rule.
We started one fine July morning in our machine for Moldova on the
Danube. The first place we came to was Szaszka, a mining village. Close
by are copper mines and smelting-works belonging to the States Railway
Company. I was told that they do not pay as well as formerly, owing to
the fact that the ore now being worked is poorer than before; it yields
only two per cent. of copper, a very low average. Nothing could well
exceed the dirt of Szaszka; we merely stopped long enough to feed the
horses, and were glad to get off again.
On leaving this place the road immediately begins to ascend the
mountain, and may be described as a sort of pass over a spur of the
Carpathians. It was a very beautiful drive, favoured as we were, too,
with fine weather. The road on the northern side is even well made,
ascending in regular zigzags. After gaining the summit, we left the
post-road that we had hitherto traversed, and took our way to the right,
descending through a forest. The varied foliage was very lovely, and
the shade afforded us most grateful. It was an original notion driving
through such a place, for, according to my ideas, there was no road at
all; but H----, more accustomed to the country, declared it was not so
bad, at least he averred that there were other roads much worse. The
jolting we got over the ruts and stones exceeded anything in my previous
experience. How the cart kept itself together was a marvel to me, but it
accommodated itself by a kind of snakelike movement, not characteristic
of wheeled vehicles in general. Except for the honour and glory of
driving, I would as lief have walked, and I think have done the journey
nearly as soon; but my friend observed, "It was no good giving into bad
roads down in this part of the world."
At one of the worst turnings we met several bullock-carts filled with
iron pyrites from the copper-smelting. The custom of the drivers of
these carts is to stop at the bottom of a steep bit of hill, and then
put five or six pairs of oxen to draw up one cart. The process is a slow
one, but is better for the oxen. We had great difficulty in passing in
safety, for unluckily at the spot we met them the trees were so thick
that they literally walled up the road, and on the other side there
chanced to be a very uninviting precipice, and of course we had the
place of honour.
Soon after this little excitement was over we came upon a fine view of
the Danube, with a long stretch of Servian forests beyond. On we jolted,
till at length New Moldova was reached: this place has
smelting-furnaces, and in the neighbourhood are extensive copper mines.
The district is known as the Banat of Temesvar, an extensive area of the
most fertile land in Europe; rich black soil, capable of growing any
number of crops in succession without dressing. This part of Hungary
supplies the finest white flour, so much esteemed by the Vienna bakers,
and now sought after by the pastrycooks in England.
There was a fair going on at New Moldova, which afforded me an
opportunity of seeing the peasants in their gala dresses. The place is
renowned for its pretty Wallack girls, and I certainly can bear witness
that I saw not a few handsome faces. But what struck me most was the
graceful movements of these damsels: their manner of walking was the
very poetry of motion. I daresay it was the more striking to me because
I had recently come from England, where fashion condemns the wearers of
high-heeled shoes to a rickety waddle! Even here, in these wilds,
fashion maintains a despotic rule. I understand black hair is the thing
at present, so every Wallack maiden dyes her hair to the regulation
colour, though Nature, who never makes a mistake, may have matched her
complexion with auburn locks.
The costume is very pretty and peculiar; it consists of a loose chemise,
a short skirt of homespun, with a double apron front and back, formed of
a very deep thick fringe of various colours. This peculiar garment is
called an _obreska_; I think it has no counterpart in female fashions
elsewhere. When the under-garment is white and fresh the effect is very
good; but in the case of the very poor, if there are but scanty rags
beneath, then, to speak mildly, the fringe is an inefficient covering.
But to-day every damsel is in her best; and how jauntily she wears the
coloured scarf twisted round her head, which falls in graceful folds!
The Wallacks generally have their bare feet covered, not with boots, but
with thongs of leather, something in the form of a sandal. The Servian
women dress quite differently, wear tight-fitting garments, richly
embroidered when their means permit. The men also figure largely in
embroidery.
In the evening the peasants had a dance on the open space in front of
the _czarda_, or village inn. Of course we were there to look on. I
should observe that we had arranged to stay the night at Moldova, for
the afternoon had been taken up in visiting a large manufactory for
sulphuric acid in the neighbourhood. The dance which wound up the day's
amusements can be easily described. "Many a youth and many a maid" form
a wide circle with arms interlaced, they move round and round in a
marzurka step to the sound of music. It appeared to me rather slow and
monotonous. I do not know whether the figure breaks up, leaving each
couple more to their own devices; but we left them still revolving in a
circle.
The following morning we were off on our travels again. A short drive
took us to Old Moldova, a village within the Military Frontier,
regularly constructed, with guardhouse and other Government buildings,
facing the Danube. At this point begins the splendid road by the side of
the river, made by the Hungarian Government in 1840. It reaches as far
as Orsova, taking the left bank of the Danube. It would have been easier
to have followed Trajan's lead, and have made the road on the right
bank; but there were political reasons for deciding otherwise. The
Hungarian Government, as a matter of course, would only construct this
great work within their own territory: the other side of the river is
Servian. The engineering difficulties in making this road were very
great, but they have been everywhere overcome, and the result is a
splendid piece of work.
Arriving at the Danube, we took a steamboat that would land us in
Milanovacz in Servia. The scenery here is magnificent; we were now in
the defile of Kasan. The waters of the mighty river are contracted
within a narrow gorge, which in fact cleaves asunder the Carpathian
range for a space of more than fifty miles. The limestone rock forms a
precipitous wall on either side, rising in some places to an altitude of
more than two thousand feet sheer from the water's edge. The scenery of
this wonderful pass is very varied; the bare rock with its vertical
precipice gives place to a disturbed broken mass of cliff and scaur,
flung about in every sort of fantastic form, or towering aloft like the
ruined ramparts of some Titan's castle. Over all this a luxuriant
vegetation has thrown a veil of exceeding beauty.
The fact of the Danube forcing its way through the Carpathian chain in
this remarkable manner is a very interesting problem to the geologists,
and deserves more careful investigation at their hands than perhaps it
has yet received. They seem pretty well agreed in saying that there
must have been a time when the waters were bayed back, and when the vast
Hungarian plain was an inland sea or great lake.
Professor Hull, in a recent paper on the subject,[2] states the fact of
the plains of Hungary being "overspread by sands, gravels, and a kind of
mud called _loess_, or by alluvial deposits underlaid by fresh-water
limestones, which may be considered as having been formed beneath an
inland lake, during different periods of repletion or partial
exhaustion, dating downwards from the Miocene period."
The Professor goes on to say that "at intervals along the skirts of the
Carpathians, and in more central detached situations, volcanoes seem to
have been in active operation, vomiting forth masses of trachytic and
basaltic lava, which were sometimes mingled with the deposits forming
under the waters of the lakes. The connection of these great sheets of
water with these active volcanic eruptions in Hungary has been pointed
out by the late Dr. Daubeny. The gorge of Kasan, and the ridge about 700
feet above the present surface of the stream, appear to have once barred
the passage of the river. At this time the waters must have been pent
up several hundred feet above the present surface, and thus have been
thrown back on the plains of Hungary. It was only necessary that the
barrier should be cut through in order to lay dry these plains by
draining the lakes. This was probably effected by the ordinary process
of river excavation, and partly by the formation of underground channels
scooped out amongst the limestone rocks of the gorge. These two modes of
excavation acting together may have hastened the lowering of the channel
and the drainage of the plains above considerably; nevertheless the time
required for such a work must have been extended, and it would appear
that while the great inland lakes were being drained, the volcanic fires
were languishing, and ultimately became extinct. Hungary thus presents
us with phenomena analogous to those which are to be found in the
volcanic district of Central France." It is a significant fact that even
at the present day the waters of the Platten See and other lakes and
swamps are diminishing, showing that the draining process is still going
on.
The extent of the great lake of prehistoric times is forcibly brought
before us by the fact that the Alföld, or great plain of Hungary,
comprises an area of 37,400 square miles! Here is found the _Tiefland_,
or deep land, so wonderfully fertile that the cultivator need only
scratch the soil to prepare it for his crop.
As it only took us four hours by steamer to go from Alt Moldova to
Milanovacz, we calculated that we might reach Maidenpek, our destination
in Servia, the same day by borrowing a few hours from the night, as an
Irishman would say. However, it turned out that there was so much
bargaining and dawdling about at Milanovacz before we could settle on a
conveyance that we did not get away till six o'clock--too late a great
deal, considering the rough drive we had before us. Immediately after
starting we began to wind our way up the mountain. The views were
splendid. The Danube at this part again spreads out, having the
appearance of a lake something like the Rhine near Bingen. We looked
right over into Transylvania and Roumania from the commanding position
afforded by the terraced road up which we slowly toiled.
We had hardly gained the highest point when we remarked that the sky was
becoming rapidly overcast by clouds from the west. Our Servian driver
swore it would not rain; he knew the signs of the weather, he said, but
as he applied the whip and galloped his horses at every available
opportunity, it was clear he had an inner consciousness of coming
trouble. The road now led through a forest. Here and there a gap in the
thick foliage gave us a glimpse of the distant landscape, and of the
curious atmospheric effects produced by the coming storm. The clouds
rolled up behind us in dense masses, throwing the near mountains into
deep shadow, while the plain far beneath was flooded with bright
sunshine.
The effect, however, was transitory, for the dark shadow soon engulfed
the distant plain, blurring the fair scene even while we looked upon it.
The change was something marvellous, so sudden and so complete. Up to
this time the air had been still, and very hot; but suddenly a fierce
wind came upon us with a hoarse roar--almost like the waves of the
sea--up the valley and over the hill-top it came, right down upon us,
tearing at the forest-trees. The branches, in all the full foliage of
leafy June, swayed to and fro as the wind went roaring and shrieking
down the hillside; the next moment the earth shook with the clap of a
terrific burst of thunder.
The horses stood still and shuddered in their harness, and it was with
difficulty they were made to go on. It was evident the storm was right
over us, for now succeeded flash upon flash of forked lightning, with
thunder-claps that were instantaneous and unceasing.
At the same time the windows of heaven were opened upon us, or rather
the sluices of heaven it seemed to me; for the rain descended in sheets,
not streams, of water. Without any adventitious difficulties, the road
was as objectionable as a road could be; deep ruts alternated with now a
bare bit of rock strewn with treacherous loose stones, and now a sharp
curve with an ugly slant towards the precipice.
About half an hour after the storm first broke upon us it had become
night, indeed it was so dark that we could hardly see a pace in advance.
The repeated flashes of lightning helped us to make out our position
from time to time, and we trusted to the horses mainly to get us along
in the safe middle course. At moments when the heavens were lit up, I
could see the swaying branches of the fir-trees high above us battling
with the wind, for we were still in the forest. The sound of many waters
around on every side forcibly impressed us with the notion that we must
be washed away--a result not by any means improbable, for the road we
traversed was little better than a watercourse.
I have experienced storms in Norway, and in the Swiss and Austrian Alps,
but I never remember anything to equal this outburst of the elements.
To stop still or to go forward was almost equally difficult, but we
struggled on somehow at the rate, I should think, of a mile and a half
in the hour. The horses were thoroughly demoralised, as one says of
defeated troops, and stumbled recklessly at every obstacle. The driver
was a stupid fellow, without an ounce of pluck in his composition, and
declared more than once that he would not go on, preferring to stop
under such shelter as the trees afforded. We were of another mind, and
insisted on his pushing on. One of us walked at the horses' heads, and
thus we splashed and blundered on for three mortal hours, wishing all
the time that we had slept at Milanovacz. The route became so much worse
that I declared we must have missed the track. We were apparently in a
deep gully, traversed by a mountain torrent hardly a foot below the
level of our road; but the Servian said he knew we were "all right," and
that we should come directly to a house where we could get shelter.
He had hardly spoken when H---- descried some lights not very far ahead,
and in less than ten minutes we came alongside a good-sized hut, which
turned out to be the welcome wine-shop the driver had promised us. Here
was a roof anyhow, so we entered, hoping for supper and beds in the
wayside inn. All our host could produce was a very good bottle of
Servian "black" wine and some coarse bread of the country, so stale
that we could hardly break it. This wine, which is almost as black as
ink, comes from Negotin, lower down the Danube, and is rather a
celebrated vintage I was informed.
It was only in my untravelled mind that the idea of "beds" existed at
all. H---- knew better than to expect anything of the kind. All we could
do was to examine the place we were in with reference to passing the
night. The floor of the room consisted of hard stamped clay, which from
the drippings of our garments had become damp and slightly adhesive to
the tread. The furniture consisted of a few rough stools and three
tables. There was no question of any other apartment, there being only a
dark hole in the rear sacred to the family, into which every sense we
possessed forbade us to intrude. In peering about with the candles we
found that the floor was perfectly alive with insects--such strange
forms, awful in their strangeness--interesting, I daresay, to the
entomologist, but simply disgusting to one not given to collecting
specimens.
If I were dying I could not have laid myself down on that floor, so we
dragged the three tables together. They were provokingly uneven, but
with the aid of a sheepskin _bunda_, and our carpet-bags for pillows,
we contrived something upon which to rest our tired limbs. I should
observe we had partially dried ourselves by a miserable fire fed with
wet wood; in fact, everything was wet--our plaids were soaked, and were
useless as coverlets.
We had agreed to keep one candle burning, with the further precaution
that we should sleep and tie through the night; for it was a
cut-throat-looking place, and the countenance of the ordinary Servian is
not reassuring. It fell to my lot to have the first watch, and I lay
awake staring at the roof, no great height above us. Its dirt-stained
rafters were lit up by the candle, and I soon became aware that the
mainbody of the insects was performing a strategic movement highly
creditable to the attacking party--they dropped down upon us from the
beams! I will not pursue the subject farther, but as long as the candle
burned I did not sleep a wink. I suppose I must have dozed off towards
morning, for H---- roused me from a state of semi-unconsciousness, and
"up we got and shook our lugs."
The first thing I saw on pushing open the door was the steaming carcass
of a sheep hung just outside, with a pool of blood on the very
threshold! In many places in Eastern Europe they have the disgusting
habit of slaughtering the animals in the middle of the street.
As soon as we had swallowed a cup of hot coffee, which is always good in
this part of the world, we lost no time in clearing out of the wretched
hovel where we had passed the night. On every side there were traces of
last night's tempest--trees uprooted and lying across the road, walls
blown down, and watercourses overflowing. It came to my knowledge later
that we got part of the same storm that had fallen with such devastating
fury on Buda-Pest just twenty-four hours earlier.[3]
It is a fact worth noting that this storm affected a large area of
Europe, travelling north-west to south-east. A friend writing from the
neighbourhood of Dresden made mention of a severe storm on the 24th of
June; it broke upon Buda on the 26th, reaching us down in Servia on the
27th.
[Footnote 2: Hungary and the Lower Danube, by Professor Hull, F.R.S., in
Dublin University Magazine, March 1874.]
[Footnote 3: Extract of a private letter, dated Buda-Pest, June 28th,
from Mr Landor Crosse, which appeared in the 'Daily News,' July 6, 1875:
"We have had one of the most dreadful storms that has happened here in
the memory of man. I must tell you that on Saturday evening I was taking
my coffee and cigar in the beautiful gardens of the Isle St Marguerite,
opposite Buda-Pest, when a little after six o'clock a fearful hurricane
arose very suddenly, sweeping over us with terrific force. Branches of
trees were carried along like feathers. After this came a dreadful
thunderstorm, accompanied by rain and hail, the hail breaking windows
right and left, even those that were made of plate-glass. The hailstones
were on an average the size of walnuts, and some very much larger. Two
trees were struck by lightning within thirty yards of me. I had a narrow
escape, for these large trees were shattered, and the fragments
dispersed by the hurricane; it was an awful moment, and I shall never
forget it as long as I live.
"Yesterday I went over to the Buda side, where twenty houses have been
entirely washed away. Nearly the whole of the town is flooded, and every
street converted into a river five or six feet in depth. It is estimated
that more than two hundred people have been drowned.... On Sunday
morning I saw the Danube bearing swiftly away the terrible wreckage of
the storm. There were large articles of furniture, the bodies of men,
women, and children, together with horses and cows, all floating on the
whirling waters.... It rained a waterspout for nearly five hours, and in
consequence the small valleys leading down from the mountain were in
some places thirty feet deep, for a time, in rushing water.... The
tramways in some places are destroyed; the mountain railway wrecked; the
vineyards on the hillside simply ruined.... You will scarcely credit me
when I tell you that a house situated at the bottom of the valley and
near the railway station was literally battered in by a _drift_ of
hailstones. The doors and windows were burst in before the inmates could
escape, and they were actually buried alive in ice. When I saw the house
twenty-two hours afterwards it was still four feet deep in hailstones,
though they had been clearing them away with spades. Just as I got there
they recovered the body of a poor woman who had perished. From this
spot, and for about a mile up the valley, no less than fifty-seven
bodies were found."]