A hunting expedition proposed--Drive from Uibanya to
Orsova--Oriental aspect of the market-place--Cserna
Valley--Hercules-Bad, Mehadia--Post-office mistakes--Drive to
Karansebes--Rough customers _en route_--Lawlessness--Fair at
Karansebes--Podolian cattle--Ferocious dogs.
During my stay at Uibanya the _Förstmeister_ (head of the forest
department) from Karansebes came over on business, and he told us there
was to be a shooting expedition on the Alps in his district. He further
invited us to take part in it, and I gladly accepted, as it fitted in
very well indeed with my plans. Karansebes is directly on the route to
Transylvania, whither I was bound. The district we were to shoot over is
the rocky border-land between Hungary and Roumania. My friend
F----agreed to accompany me, and on our way we proposed visiting the
celebrated baths of Mehadia. Early one morning we started for Orsova, a
drive of thirty miles, splendid scenery all the way. The latter part of
our journey was by the side of the Danube, on the Szechenyi road again.
We passed a number of hay-ricks in trees, which I have before described.
Some of them were built up in the form of an inverted cone. The
luxuriance of the foliage is very striking. Nothing can exceed the
beauty of the wild vines so frequent on the banks of the Danube. They
fall in graceful festoons from the trees; sometimes they reach across to
the trees on the other side of the road, forming a complete arch of
greenery. In the autumn the vine leaves turn to a glowing red, like the
Virginian creeper, and then the effect of this mass of rich colouring is
indeed glorious. Meanwhile gay butterflies of rare form fluttered about
among the trailing vines, and bright green lizards darted in and out of
the stone wall. Then an eagle or a vulture would swoop down from the
heights, and settle himself on some pinnacle of rock, where he remained,
motionless as a stuffed bird.
When we reached Orsova we only stopped long enough to get some dinner
and take the usual siesta. This place is on the frontier; three miles
farther down you pass out of Hungary into Roumanian territory. Had we
stayed any time we should certainly have gone to see Trajan's bridge,
about eighteen miles hence. The so-called "Iron Gates" are just below
Orsova. The designation is a misnomer, for the river ceases to be pent
up between a defile, the hills recede from the shore, and the "Gates"
are merely ledges of rock peculiarly difficult for navigation. Orsova is
celebrated as the place where the regalia of Hungary were concealed by
Kossuth and his friends from 1849 to 1853. The iron chest which held the
palladium of the kingdom, the sacred crown of St Stephen, was buried in
a waste spot, covered with willows, not far from the road. There is a
somewhat Oriental look about Orsova. In the market-place there is a
profusion of bright-coloured stuffs, prayer-carpets, and Turkish
slippers. A narrow island of no great length, just below Orsova, is
still held by the Turks. There is a small mosque with minarets visible
amongst a group of the funeral cypress-tree, so characteristic of the
presence of the Turk.
Our road to Mehadia was away from the river, following instead the lead
of a lateral valley. As we drove out of Orsova we passed a lot of
Wallack huts forming a kind of suburb. These huts are built of wattles
stuccoed with mud, always having on one side of the dwelling a space
enclosed by stockades some ten feet high; this is a necessary protection
for their animals against the depredations of wolves and bears, which
abound here.
Leaving this village we continued our way through the Cserna Valley,
which has few signs of cultivation beyond the orchards and vineyards
that climb up the hillsides of the narrow ravine. On our left we passed
a ruined aqueduct of Turkish origin, eleven arches still remaining. As
we proceeded, the valley narrowed considerably, and the scenery became
more wild and striking. Here vegetation is in its richest profusion; the
parasitical plants are surpassingly graceful, wreathing themselves over
rocks and trees.
Mehadia, or more strictly, Hercules-Bad, is the most fashionable bath in
Hungary. The village of Mehedia must not be confounded with it, for it
lies at a distance of six miles thence. The situation of Hercules-Bad is
extremely romantic. Above the narrow rocky valley rise bare limestone
peaks, girdled with rich forests of every variety of foliage. There are
two kinds of springs, the sulphurous and the saline. The Hercules source
bursts out from a cleft of the rock in such an immense volume that it is
said to yield 5000 cubic feet in an hour. The water has to be cooled
before it is used, the natural heat being as much as 131° Fahrenheit.
Its efficacy is said to be so great that the patient while in the bath
"feels the evil being boiled out of him"! Some of the visitors had not
yet had their turn of cooking, I suppose, or if they had been boiled,
were rather underdone, for I met a good many gouty and rheumatic
patients still in the hobbling condition.
The country round Mehadia is so wild, both in regard to the scenery and
to the native population, that the contrast of dropping suddenly into a
fashionable watering-place is very curious. This bath is much frequented
for pleasure and health by the luxury-loving Roumanians, who invariably
display the latest extravagance of Parisian fashion. Men in
patent-leather boots devoted to cards and billiards, while in the
immediate neighbourhood of glorious scenery, with bear and chamois
shooting to be had for the asking, seem to me "an unknown species," as
Voltaire said of the English. From what I learned of the ways of the
place it seems that the Magyar and Transylvanian visitors keep quite
aloof from the Roumanian coterie; they have never anything pleasant to
say of one another. At Boseg, a bath in the Eastern Carpathians which I
visited later, the separation is so complete that the Roumanians go at
one period of the season and the Hungarian visitors at another.
It had always been my intention to stay a few days at the Hercules-Bad,
and I had given the place as an address for English letters. Accordingly
I presented myself at the _poste restante_. Seeing that I was a
Britisher, the postmaster gave me all the letters he possessed with
English postmarks. Many of them were of considerable antiquity. Out of
the goodly pile I selected some half-dozen that bore my name; but I was
greatly surprised to come across one that had made a very bad shot for
its destination. It bore the simple name of some poor Jacktar, with the
address "H.M.S. Hercules."
The Romans had their _établissement_ here. The present name comes from
the "Thermæ Herculis" of classic times. There are many interesting
remains here--fragments of altars, sculptured capitals, and stones with
inscriptions, all telling the same story--the story of Roman dominion
and greatness.
Just then we had no time for archæology, for we wanted to push on to
Karansebes, and we stayed only a day and a half at Mehadia. As it was
more than we could comfortably manage to do the whole distance in a day,
we arranged to drive as far as Terregova and sleep there. We left
Mehadia early in the afternoon, F----'s groom riding my horse. The road
was excellent--all the roads are in the districts of the Military
Frontier. As an example of the quick temper of the Wallacks, I will
mention a little incident which happened on the road. We met some of
these people, and one of them, who was looking another way, stumbled
most awkwardly against the groom's horse, and very nearly met with an
accident. Though it was so clearly his own fault, he had hardly
recovered himself when, raising his axe, he was about to strike our
servant on the head. Meanwhile another fellow seized a big stone, which
I believe was going to make a target of the same head. Luckily I turned,
and seeing the scuffle, I was out with my revolver in a moment, pointing
it at the man with the axe. He understood my language, and made a hasty
retreat. F---- said he had no doubt it would have gone badly with the
groom if the distance between us had been greater.
We were in for adventures in a small way that evening. Just after
sunset, when it was already rather dark in the valley, we found
ourselves suddenly stopped by a man, who leaped out from behind a rock,
seized the horses, and with a powerful grasp brought them down on their
haunches. F---- had the reins, so I jumped down and made straight at the
fellow, revolver in hand. I imagine he did not expect to find us armed,
or he found us literally too many for him, but diving into the bushes,
he was gone even quicker than he came.
We had hardly got the horses into full trot again, when we noticed two
cartloads of Wallacks driving side by side on in front of us. When we
came up they would not let us pass, and continued this little game for
more than ten minutes, notwithstanding all our expostulations. They were
driving much slower than ourselves, and F---- began to lose patience; so
holding the horses well in hand, he told me to fire off my revolver in
the air. After this they thought proper to draw aside, but even then
leaving us so little room that we risked our necks in passing them in a
very awkward corner. I was told afterwards by the postmaster of
Karansebes that a diligence had fallen over the precipice at this very
place, only a very short time before, owing to the Wallack drivers
purposely obstructing the road. Such are the Wallacks--I beg their
pardon, Roumanians!
When we got to Terregova, we were glad to find quite a decent inn, the
Wilder Mann, kept by civil people. After supper we had a chat with our
hostess, who being a regular gossip, was very pleased to tell us a lot
of stories about the wild character of the country-people. She was very
sorry that the frontier was no longer under the Austrian military rule,
for, she said, having been accustomed to the strict military system so
long, the Wallacks, now they have more liberty, have become utterly
lawless, and exceedingly troublesome to their German neighbours. She
added that the _gendarmes_, who were supposed to keep order in the
district, were far too few to be of any real use. She complained
bitterly against the Wallacks for firing the forests, and they had
become much worse since '48. "In fact the time will come," she said,
"when wood will be scarce, and then everybody will suffer; but they
don't think, and they don't care, and just lay their hands on anything."
The Government certainly ought to look to the preservation of the
forests, and above all they ought to make the law respected amongst a
population which is so little advanced in civilisation as to be
indifferent to the first principles of order. The Wallacks want
education, and above all they want a decent priesthood, before they can
make any sound progress. With all their ignorance and lawlessness, it is
curious that they pride themselves on being descendants of the ancient
Romans, ignoring their "Dacian sires."
The next day we went on to Karansebes--a good road and charming scenery.
This is the highroad into Transylvania, called the Eisenthor Pass; but
it hardly merits the name of pass, inasmuch as it only crosses the spur
of the hills. The distance from Orsova on the Danube to Hatszeg in
Transylvania is 110 miles: the district is known as the "Romanen
Banat," and, as the name imports, is principally inhabited by Wallacks,
otherwise Roumanians.
We arrived at Karansebes in the afternoon, and by good-luck it chanced
to be fair-day. This is a central market for a considerable extent of
country, so that there is always a great gathering of people. In driving
into the town we passed a long bridge which crosses a low-lying meadow,
the central arch being sufficient to span the stream, at least in
summer. From this elevation we had a capital view of the fair, which was
being held in these meadows, and could look down leisurely on the whole
scene; and a very novel and amusing sight it was.
There were hundreds of people; and what a variety of races and diversity
of costumes! The Wallack women, in their holiday suits, were the most
picturesque. Many of them were handsome, and they have generally a very
superior air to the men; they are better dressed and more civilised
looking. There were a sprinkling of Magyars in braided coats, or with
white felt cloaks richly embroidered in divers colours. But the
blue-eyed, fair-complexioned German was far more numerous. The Magyar
element is very much in the minority in this particular part of Hungary.
The Jews and the gipsies were there in great numbers--they always are
at fairs--in the quality of horse-dealers and vendors of wooden articles
for the kitchen. The Jew is easily distinguished by his black corkscrew
ringlets, and his brown dressing-gown coat reaching to his heels. This
ancient garment suits him "down to the ground;" in fact his yellow
visage and greasy hat would not easily match with anything more cleanly.
These Jewish frequenters of fairs are, as a rule, of the lowest class,
hailing either from the Marmaros Mountains in North-Eastern Hungary, or
from Galicia.
The fair is really a very important exhibition of the products and
manufactures of the country, and it is well worth the attention of the
stranger, who may pass on with the motley crowd through streets of
stalls and booths. One _annexe_ is devoted to furniture, from a winged
wardrobe down to a wooden spoon. In another part you see piles of
Servian rugs, coarse carpets, sheepskin _bundas_, hairy caps of a
strange peaked form, broad hats made of reed or rush, and the delightful
white felt garments before mentioned, which are always embroidered with
great taste and skill. Horses, cows, and pigs are also brought here in
great numbers to exchange owners. The long-horned cattle are perhaps the
most striking feature in the whole fair. They are white, with a little
grey on the necks, flanks, and buttocks. Oxen are much used for hauling
purposes as well as for the plough. A pair of oxen, it is considered,
will do the work of four horses.
Professor Wrightson says: "The Podolian is an aboriginal race, descended
from the wild urox (_Bos primigenius_). The race is remarkable for its
capability of resisting influences of climate, and its contentedness
with poor diet.... The Hungarian oxen are considered by naturalists as
the best living representative of the original progenitors of our
domestic cattle." Of the buffalo the same writer says: "It was
introduced into Hungary by Attila; it is found in the lowlands, on both
sides of the Danube and the Theiss, Lower Hungary, and Transylvania. In
1870 there were upwards of 58,000 in Transylvania, and more than 14,000
in Hungary."[10]
Later in my tour, when at Klausenburg, I had an opportunity of seeing an
extensive dairy where upwards of a hundred buffalo cows were kept. The
farm alluded to is admirably managed, and, I am told, yields very
profitable returns.
It is the opinion of Professor Wrightson that cattle are diminishing in
Hungary owing to the breaking up of pastures and the recurrence of
rinderpest. He says he does not think that the English market can look
to Hungary for a supply of cattle at present. This gentleman did not, I
believe, visit Transylvania, and I am inclined to think the supply from
_that_ part of the kingdom is greatly on the increase; there the
pastures are _not_ in process of being turned into arable land, and the
rise in prices has given an impetus to the profitable employment of
capital in raising stock.
In walking round the fair, we took notice of the horses. I could have
made a better bargain than I did in Servia. A useful cart-horse could be
bought, I found, for about six or seven pounds. I daresay I could have
picked out a few from the lot fit for riding, but of course they were
rough animals, mere peasant horses. Some of the colts, brought in a
string fresh from the mountains, were wild, untamed-looking creatures;
but hardly as wild as the Wallacks who led them, dressed in sheepskin,
and followed each by his savage wolf-like dog. The dogs are very
formidable in Hungary. It is never safe to take a walk, even in the
environs of a town, without a revolver, on account of these savage
brutes, who, faithful to their masters, are liable to make the most
ferocious attacks on strangers. This special kind of dog is in fact most
useful--to the shepherd on the lonely _puszta_, to the keeper of the
vineyard through the night-watches, when the wild boar threatens his
ravages--and in short he acts the part of rural police generally.
In Hungary, as elsewhere, there are dogs of kindly nature and gentle
culture. I can record a curious instance of reasoning power in a dog
named "Jockey," who is well known at Buda Pest. He has the habit of
crossing over from Pest to Buda every morning of his life in one or
another of the little steamboats that ply backwards and forwards. He
regularly takes his walk over there, and then returns as before by
steamer. This is his practice in summer; but when winter arrives, and
the ice on the Danube stops the traffic of the steamboats, then Jockey
has recourse to the bridge. I believe there is no doubt of this
anecdote. Another instance of sagacity is attributed to him. His master
lost a lawsuit through the rascality of his attorney; Jockey feels so
strongly on the subject that he snarls and growls whenever a lawyer
enters his master's house. Here, of course, the instinct is stronger
than the powers of discrimination.
[Footnote 10: 'Report on the Agriculture of the Austro-Hungarian
Empire,' Journal of the Royal Agricultural Society, vol. x. Part xi. No.
xx.]