The sun was already below the horizon, when we entered on the plain of
Magnesia. Our poor brutes were sadly jaded; for the latter part of the
journey had been very severe. For some time it had been over a rocky
path, strewn with loose stones; and the last stage is by a pretty
abrupt, and very rough descent. My poor animal had cast a shoe, and the
only relief that could be afforded in his calamity, was to dismount and
lead him. We, too, were somewhat tired; but the glorious sight that
burst upon us, bathed our spirits afresh in the waters of invigoration.
The road had, for some time, kept us dodging among crags and corners,
which allowed no prospect, and where, indeed, we were well employed
picking out our way. But when we emerged, what a sight did we behold!
One of the noble Asiatic plains stretched before us. Far as the eye
could reach, to right and left, the green expanse extended; and
immediately before us, it was only in the far distance that the boundary
of hills was seen. Here and there clumps of trees variegated the turf;
and a fair river wound itself amid all, looking like some huge and
silvery serpent disporting itself in this apt solitude. Think how
beautiful such a scene must have looked at evening, when the tops of the
hills, and a few fleecy clouds were rosy in the sunbeams. Its expression
was Paradisaical, the rather because the empire of Peace was invaded by
no sight nor sound. The air was absolutely still, except for the sound
of our own footsteps: as for our voices, after the first expression of
delight, they were hushed. We seemed to be gazing on some primeval
solitude,--on the spot where Astraea might have last lingered, and whence
the impress of her footstep had not been yet obliterated by the violence
of man. It was a perfect presentation of the still and calm, and touched
the same associations that are made to thrill by Flaxman or Retsch.
On the verge of this plain, snugly ensconced under the lee of the hills
we had been descending, lies the city of Magnesia. It is of reverend
aspect, and quite worthy of its incomparable situation. It is placed so
closely under the hills, that its details are very gradually unfolded to
one advancing. First appears a minaret, that most graceful of
architectural conceptions; then comes a burying ground, and at last peep
out the domes of the baths and mosques, and particular houses. The place
has quite the air of having come to hide itself in this quiet nook; and
its inhabitants seemed to be of the same mind, for not one of them could
we see. At such an hour, poetic justice demanded that there should have
been, scattered over the ways, groups of peasants returning from their
toil, and citizens refreshing themselves with an evening walk. But here
seemed to be no fields to cultivate. All looked as if it were common
land; and one could but feel what a first-rate exercising ground Oglu
Pascha had for his cavalry. As for the citizens, walking does not come
within their idea of enjoyment; to which exertion is so essentially
opposed, that probably half of them would forego their very pipes, if
smoking were attainable only on condition of filling and lighting for
one's self.
Now, let me say, that a wayfarer's trouble is not always over when he
has arrived at the city of his destination. I should like to put any one
who thinks it is, outside of one or two places that I know, and tell him
to find his way in. _Le grand capitain_ thanked the garrison of Malta
for having had the kindness not only to capitulate, but to open the
gates for him, as otherwise he did not see how he should ever have got
in. And so, I opine, there be places where a capitulation would be
incomplete without the attendance of one of the indigenous to act as
pilot. I am afraid that I might have taken this journey in vain, and
sighed in exclusion, had I been left to my own devices for the effecting
of an entry. The river surrounds, in great part, the walls; and one
might make pretty well the entire circuit before hitting the right point
of ingress. But one of us was gifted with topographical instinct in
high degree, and at once nosed the course that was to lead us to the
bridge. Our poor brutes seemed to sympathise in the refreshment of our
spirits; and even my unfortunate Rosinante consented to his burden, and
put his best foot foremost. One of his feet, alas! was what maritime
gentlemen would call a regular _worser_--the foot which lacked a shoe,
and which, defenceless, had to sustain such rude battering. The hoof of
this foot was cracked, and I was in much tribulation, both on the poor
horse's account and on my own. But I made the best of the circumstances;
encouraging the animal with all that I could remember and imitate of the
dialect in which man converses with the horse; and comforting myself
with thinking how soon the poor fellow would be stabled and shod.
The bridge, over which we passed, was very pretty and not very shaky,
nor by any means so broken-backed as are the greater number of Turkish
specimens. At the moment of our passing, it was lined with venerable old
fellows, who had turned out to enjoy their evening pipe. They were
dressed in the most approved and unreformed style, and many of them had
long beards, descending to the girdle. They sat in perfect stillness, no
man speaking to, or seeming to care for his neighbour. Indeed, from
experiences among them, we might almost argue that though man is by
nature gregarious, he is conversational only by acquirement. At any
rate, they show how few words may answer all the purposes of business,
and how little all of us would talk, if wives and domestic matters were
proscribed subjects. As we passed through the midst of them, not a soul
looked at us, not a nudge did one of them give to his neighbour, not a
puff less of smoke was emitted. One might have concluded it to be with
them an every day occurrence to see three Europeans ride in such style
into their town. Yet you might be bold to say, that they had never seen
such an entry before. The mode of travelling is so strictly regulated by
necessity, that, in all probability, of all the few Franks who have
entered this place, none have ever done so in the independent style we
affected. At least if, by chance, some couple may have done so, it has
certainly been where there has existed a knowledge of the people and
language. If our appearance did not at first enlighten them as to our
greenness and ignorance, we soon stood confessed by our attempts at
inquiry. Our first object was, of course, to discover the habitation of
the Seraph, whose name we had written down in our own character; as the
hieroglyphics which stood for direction to the letter would have been no
guide to us. Now, our stock of words did not go the length of any direct
inquiry; for _Katch Sahet_, our old stand-by, was now used up.
"Seraph,--Seraph,"--we sang out, with as strong an expression of inquiry
as we could throw into our looks and gestures. At this some of them
certainly did look up, but with the least excitement conceivable. One of
the more benevolent vouchsafed to us a few words, but soon stopped with
the most unmistakeable look of pity when he saw that we did not
understand him. Evidently he pitied our ignorance and despised us. No
farther attempt was made to enlighten us; nor were the peaceful seniors
in the least discomposed at the unsuccessful result of the inquiries
that possibly were uttered in the speech of the old man. We had nothing
for it but to go a-head, and trust to the chance of falling in with some
one better skilled in the language of signs. Oh, thought we, had it been
any where near Naples that this escapade had conducted us, we might have
done well. Among those pantomimic people the language of the lips
becomes an unimaginative and lazy expedient, by no means necessary to
the uses of communication. Nature, whose voice is one to all, has given
to them such force of gesture, that it must be a very long and difficult
story that they could not tell or understand without words. But poor old
John Turk is a different animal, and can be dealt with only by dialectic
precision. Never had we seen such an exemplification of their incurious,
impassible diathesis as they now presented to our cost. We turned back a
long and admiring gaze at the group as we passed onwards, for truly it
was a most picturesque position. But we had to revert to the present
necessity of finding some lodging, more perhaps on account of the horses
than of ourselves. For us it would have been no great hardship to pass
the night, should need be, on the dry soft turf, beneath the clear sky,
which shone so purely above us that we absolved the neighbourhood from
all suspicion of marshes, which are the only objection to sleeping in
the open air in this country. All looked dry, and clear, and pure. But
our poor horses, who had been beguiled into an effort by the sight of
the town, began now again to droop, and evidently considered us
chargeable with a breach of promise in thus prolonging their labours.
Whither to go we could not tell. A labyrinth of streets lay before us,
and amongst them it was our object to pick out the way to the Armenian
quarter. Turks keep early hours, and but few people were astir in the
streets when we entered, and after our wanderings had continued but a
short time scarcely a soul was to be seen. Now I am prepared to say,
that no desolation is like the desolation of strangeness in a large
city. St. Jerome in the wilderness, or Stylites on his pillar, were not
more lonely than many a poor recluse in our city of two million
inhabitants. And we ourselves would have been infinitely more at ease
had we been called upon to bivouac beyond the sight of human habitation.
Up one street and down another we passed, till we were wearied almost
beyond endurance, and really uneasy for our cattle. We met no one; or if
we did, no one that noticed us. The muffled figure of some woman would
pass by, who, when she saw the gaoors, would draw her veil yet more
closely over her, and hurry, on her way. One or two children stopped to
stare at us; but we knew experimentally that their untutored fanaticism
was more likely to have a shy at our heads, than to attempt to
understand or direct us. We kept a sharp look-out for some Greek or
Armenian house wherein, for lucre's sake, we might be received in the
first instance: reserving to ourselves the introduction to the Seraph as
a _bonne bouche_. But still we wearied on, and saw no hospice. All was,
shut up, and closed. They were evidently not of the social temperament
that distinguished our Smyrna friends,--no doors were open, no family
parties visible, no suppers spread out. Some two hours passed
away--night fairly descended; and then the place might have passed for a
city of the dead.
The fix was becoming unquestionably awkward, and our mirth, which had
thriven wonderfully on the absurdity of our position, was passing over
to what old ladies call the wrong side of our mouths. Such an incurious,
apathetic set we had never before met. If our expectation had not been
exactly that some bustling Boniface, would have come rushing out to
welcome us to his best parlour, we had at least reckoned on finding some
person who knew the value of money, and the requirements of strangers.
But we were completely nonplused at the actual complexion of affairs,
and I am afraid began to be out of humour with this particular part of
the Sultan's dominions. Still, however, we retained that facetious
satisfaction that every wise man finds at the bottom of a really good
embroglio,--viz., the sense of having concocted an adventure, and the
curiosity of seeing what will come of it. Thus, though appearances were
as if we should have to remain riding about those streets _in
infinitum_, we knew that something or other must turn up; and were only
a little impatient for the denouement.
At last we stumbled on the benevolent stranger who was to help us out of
our difficulty. A man in Christian costume was seen hastening towards us
with the air of one who had heard that his friends were in trouble, and
needed his assistance.
"Bona sera, signori."
How musical did the words sound!
"Oh man," said we, "_per carita_, tell us what good soul of a Greek will
take us into his house this night."
"_Padroni miei_, you are too late to get into any house this night. They
are all gone to bed, and their houses are shut up. You must go to the
Khan."
"Do you know where the Seraph ---- lives?"
"Surely I know--it is not far from this spot."
"Then, if you would be very kind, you will take us to his house: for we
have a letter for him, and we hope to put up at his house."
"_Andiam_,--come along; it is late, but the Seraph will not have gone to
bed, for he is rich, and has much business. Only, my masters, you must
make haste, so that if he cannot receive you, I may have time to lead
you to the Khan before that be also shut."
This last was a very disagreeable suggestion; but we would not admit in
our own minds the probability of our needing the resources of public
entertainment. We had made up our conclusions that the Seraph was a very
good fellow; and that no good fellow would turn us adrift under the
circumstances, even though the entertainment of us might cost him a
little inconvenience.
For something like another quarter of an hour we followed our benevolent
guide, who led us into a quarter of comfortable and respectable
appearance. It was not inferior to the Armenian quarter of Smyrna,
except in respect to pictorial effect as a whole. The houses were
particularly good, and built in a more seclusive spirit; the better ones
being almost all detached. Before one of the very best of these our
guide stopped.
"Here lives the Seraph ----."
It was a domicile of most promising appearance, surrounded by a garden,
and in every respect snug and unexceptionable. We had so lived in hopes
of finding this house, and so thoroughly made up our minds to stop
therein, that we were nearly riding at once into the enclosure as if we
had been invited and expected. We were discreet enough, though, to
consider that the worthy Armenian might possibly be a little startled at
the unexpected apparition of such a party, so detached K---- as a
deputation, to present our compliments, and accept the invitation which
we doubted not would follow.
J---- and myself remained without the gate to take care of the steeds,
and to expect the result of our embassy. We exchanged congratulations on
the good fortune of having brought up in such snug quarters, and agreed
that we were all right now. If the Seraph could not receive us himself,
he would be sure to know some family of the place which would, on his
recommendation, receive us. But after some few minutes we began to think
our messenger was a long time away, and I determined to have a peep at
what was going on. I entered the garden, and saw at once that the work
was in no prosperous condition--the letter was not even yet read. The
worthy merchant had evidently been disturbed in the prosecution of
culinary duties, for a vessel of water was before him, and a lettuce in
his hand. He had taken a good look at K----, who was not quite unabashed
at this cold reception, and was now minutely inspecting the letter
before opening it. Like most moneyed men, he was very silent and very
deliberate. At last he got the length of opening the letter, and slowly
read it through. This being achieved, it did not seem to occur to him
that it was necessary to say any thing to us. The scene was much such as
might take place at the reception of some poor relative by a rich London
merchant.
"Signore Seraph," said K----, "our friend John gave us this letter to
you, because he thought you might like to be of some service to us
during our short visit."
"What can I do for you?"
"You can tell us of some house where we can put up for the night."
"I do not know any such house. There is none such in Magnesia."
"You cannot mean to say that none will receive the friends of your
countryman, John."
"Gentlemen, you must go to the Khan. I know of no place but the Khan. In
the Khan you will find excellent accommodation." And having said thus
much, he recommenced scuttling about among his cookery, and fairly
turned the cold shoulder on the whole party of strangers.
Now this gentleman was a bad specimen of his kind, thus to dishonour the
recommendation of his very respectable friend at Smyrna. Or perhaps
something had gone wrong with him that day on 'Change. Certain it is
that such a reception we had never before experienced. In every place to
which we had come, we had always found some one who, for love or money,
was glad to receive us. In more than one case, it had been for the
former consideration; and indeed in some villages it is the recognised
privilege of the greatest man to receive the wayfarer. It is to them a
rare occasion of playing the entertainer, and, besides, gives them an
opportunity of hearing all sorts of travellers' tales. Besides, it is a
good office, which they themselves may require at any time; and it is,
even on sordid grounds, good policy for them to establish relations of
hospitality throughout the country. One case is in my recollection,
where a large party of us, with I know not how many followers and
horses, were received most cheerfully, though arriving at a late hour,
and in such formidable numbers. The most hospitable attention was paid
to us, and abundant provision of all kinds made; and at our departing
our entertainers would receive no penny of recompense. And other such
can I remember, though none perhaps where the demand was so strong.
Rejected from the gate of the Seraph, whom we voted a barbarian and a
curmudgeon, our ambition resolved itself into the anxiety to reach the
Khan before they shut up for the night. Our new acquaintance, who had
guided us to this inhospitable threshold, was waiting for us outside, as
though in distrust of our being received. He stuck by us like a good man
and true, till he had conducted us far away to the upper part of the
town, where lies the Khan.
We saw a large building, with a frontage something like Newgate. On a
rude sort of divan, in the doorway, sat the Khandgi smoking, who gave
not the least sign of noticing our approach. Through the doorway we had
a perspective view of an inner court of considerable extent, in
different parts of which glimmered the cheerful blaze of fire and lamp.
Several people were passing to and fro, and altogether the place looked
far more life-like than the dull streets through which we had been
passing.
Our friend approached and saluted the Khandgi, who returned the
compliment with all grave civility. A colloquy then followed on the
subject of ourselves, during which the Turk read our personal
presentments with some apparent interest. It probably required some
scrutiny to convince him that men travelling thus unattended were not
vagabonds. Perhaps the same idea had something to do with the
shortcomings of our friend the Seraph. In the present case the result
was of a more satisfactory kind, for the Khandgi uttered a courteous
welcome, and motioned to us to dismount. Our friend, to whom we had
previously explained our necessities, told us that, in consideration of
his request, the Khandgi would take the trouble of supplying our wants
in the way of eating, though, as the bazaar was long since closed, we
should have to wait some time for our supper. We were only too glad to
hear that there was any prospect of a refection, and, thanking him
heartily for his good offices, we entered the caravanserai.
Immediately at the entrance of this hostelry was an uncommonly snug
little apartment, wherein many of the more sociable of the guests were
taking their baccy. Our will was very good to have made a temporary
lodgement here while the more substantial repast was in course of
preparation. But we followed the respectable gentleman to whose care we
had been consigned. Our luggage was not very cumbersome, consisting only
of our saddles and holsters, which we were able to remove at once, as
the two hours' patrolling had quite cooled the horses. Poor things! they
had still to wait for their provender, for though we signified that we
wished them to be fed directly, the authorities gave us to understand
that they must wait. They have a great objection in these parts to feed
any particular horse, or horses, except at the same time with all the
others, believing that those of the animals who have nothing to eat,
hearing the others chumping their corn, are made envious. It is but fair
to them to say, that they are very kind to the brute creation. To their
care we left our quadrupeds awhile, and ascended to what was to be our
chamber. We passed along an extensive gallery with a great many doors,
at one of which our conductor stopped and produced a large key. We were
introduced to a moderately capacious cell, entirely bare of furniture,
but quite clean. Of this room and key we were put into possession, and,
throwing down our traps, made ourselves comfortable. It was exactly like
the cell of a prison; massy stone walls, with one little aperture by way
of window, which, however, was not barred, neither was it glazed; at
which we were not astonished, for glass is hereaway an expensive, or at
least an unusual luxury. The character of the Khan is consistently
observed throughout, as we learnt subsequently more particularly--viz.,
that of a place which affords necessities, but no superfluities--nothing
portable. House and home you cannot easily carry about with you, and
these the public institution provides; but all things edible, or
wearable, or convenient, you must provide for yourself.
Our good friend brought a lamp, which he set upon the floor; and, as the
evening was coolish, and the cell had the air of not having been
tenanted for a long time, we signified to him that a fire would be
agreeable. Having made the exception in our favour, in virtue of which
he had undertaken to supply our various necessities, he set about
fulfilling his contract with a good will, and seemed only anxious to
know what he could do for us. We pointed to the bare floor, and
insinuated an appeal to him, as a man of honour and a gentleman, whether
such a couch did not admit of improvement. It is very probable that he
uttered in his sleeve some objurgation on Frankish luxury, that could
not be contented to sleep as other people did; or, at any rate, to
provide capotes like other people. But he signified to us his
intelligence of our meaning, and his ready acquiescence; and soon
entered a satellite laden with rugs, on which a prince might have
reposed, to say nothing of a weary traveller.
Behold us, then, stretched on our couches around the fire, soothing our
spirits with that best of smoking inventions, the nargille. The
providing of these, and of coffee, _without sugar_, came within the
legitimate province of the Khandgi, who keeps a cafe in the
establishment; every thing else that he may give you, is of pure grace.
Should any body, in these travelling days, be ignorant of the
constitution of a nargille, let him understand that it is a smoking
device on the same principle as a hookah, but marvellously superior in
effect. The smoke is drawn through water by means of a long, snake-like
tube. Herein lieth its agreement with the Indian vanity; but the
difference is this, that instead of the sickly composition, half
rose-leaves, half guava jelly, that composes the chillum of the hookah,
the nargille is fed with pure tobacco; of a particular kind, indeed, and
passing by a particular name, but still a veritable specimen of the
genus nicotiana. It is called timbooke, and professes to come only from
Persia.
We were not left long in undisturbed possession of our apartment. The
key had been made over to us with much formality; but we soon found that
our tenancy was understood to imply no right of seclusion. The news of
our arrival had spread, and sundry of the other inhabitants of the Khan
were smitten with the desire of seeing what sort of animals these were
who travelled in such fashion. Our door opened, and first one man, and
then another, entered in the most unconcerned style. It was highly
amusing to see how coolly they walked in: some saluted us, and some did
not. Some brought their pipes or nargilles, with which they squatted on
the floor, and watched us. As we could not talk to them, they talked to
one another about us; staring, at the same time, with all their eyes,
and pointing unconstrainedly to the individual or object that happened,
for the time being, to engage their curiosity. Many addressed inquiries
to us, and shrugged their shoulders at our ignorance of a language with
which, probably, they had never before met any one unacquainted. These
gentlemen, be it remembered, were not of the sober inhabitants, but
chance occupants of the inn--merchants and vagabonds of all kinds.
Merchants, among them, always are vagabonds; men who travel with their
wares from one place to another, according to the complexion of markets.
We were at least as much amused at marking them, as they were with us,
and not much more constrained in our personal observations. Many an
equivocal compliment fell harmless on their ears, which, had it been
understood, would have ruffled their smiles. At last an individual
entered, who evidently came on business. He made a short announcement to
us, and waited for a reply. Of course no reply was forthcoming, except
some general invitation to sit down and make himself happy. This he was
by no means disposed to do. He repeated his words with an emphasis that
seemed to imply that he was not to be trifled with, and that it was no
use pretending not to understand him. He exemplified what I suppose to
be a general fallacy of our nature,--for I have often encountered the
same anomaly,--that is to say, he repeated his words slowly and
emphatically, as if one, though ignorant of the language, could not fail
to comprehend his meaning, if expressed clearly and deliberately. We
were brought no whit nearer to a sense of the emergency.
As in despair he continued to repeat one word, "Aivan, aivan," in a tone
that appealed to our every sympathy as reasonable beings, we felt the
full indecorum of our continued unintelligence, and would gladly have
compounded, by appearing to understand, and allowing the event to work
itself out. But this would not satisfy our friend: there was evidently
something to be done by us.
"Aivan, aivan!" shouted the assistants, in chorus.
It was useless. The word was not in our vocabulary. He now began to
gesticulate vehemently, passing his hand several times over his face,
and performing other evolutions. These to me, I confess, conveyed no
meaning; but K----, being of quicker apprehension, somehow extracted
from the pantomime an idea of the fact.
"Depend upon it, he means something about the horses."
S---- improved upon this suggestion, turning to account the extra
knowledge that he possessed of the ways of these people. "I have it. He
means where are the halters for our horses. These are never provided in
the Khan stables, and all travellers take them for themselves."
Here we were at fault: none of us had been provident of this article,
and we wanted words to beg the stable-man to provide, if he could, the
halters, and put them in the bill. In the midst of our perplexity a man
entered, whom we hailed as a friend in need. He was a Greek,
unmistakeable by physiognomy, even had he not been so by dress. How
delightful it was to find a channel of communication re-opened, those
only can judge who, like us, have been deprived of the uses of speech.
Our words became, indeed, epea pteroenta. In a trice he
explained to us the whole matter, which was as we had supposed. He
appeared to be quite proud of the distinction of being the only person
who could communicate with us, and assumed the office of interpreter
with great gusto. Through him we explained that we should like to pay a
visit to the stables, and the groom summoned us at once to follow him.
The company all cleared out as we rose; partly from civility, and partly
because they wanted to see a little more of us. We did not, in the
least, doubt the honesty of these gentry; but, seeing that so little
ceremony existed as to right of entry into our apartment, we did not
know but that some unscrupulous person might take advantage of our
absence to overhaul our effects. We therefore judged it prudent to
remove those of our effects which might most strongly provoke their
cupidity. Our saddles were heavy, and could not easily be pocketed, but
our pistols might have been stowed away under their voluminous dresses,
and carried off without the observation of the Khandgi. These,
therefore, we carried with us, and with such garniture I personally cut
a pretty figure. My weapons were so prodigiously long, that their
but-ends considerably overtopped the boundary of my pockets, and gave me
thoroughly the air of a highwayman. The exhibition amazed us, but did
not appear to strike the natives as extraordinary, who doubtless thought
that such was the ordinary walking attire of our nation.
The unintelligible groom walked foremost with a lantern, and led us
across the great quadrangle of the Khan, to his particular domain. It
was a right good stable, comfortable and clean, and in which a horse
might rejoice himself. It was full of horses, and asses, and camels--for
which last species of animal a stable is only an occasional luxury.
Generally, the track of these hardy brutes lies where there is no stable
to be found, and they are wont to travel in such numbers as to defy any
ordinary bounds of habitation. Here they seemed to be quiet neighbours,
and not at all offensive to the smaller quadrupeds. Once on the spot, we
managed to get over the difficulty of the halters, and as the time of
feeding was approaching, we led our steeds out to water. The poor
shoeless one was sensibly the worse for his journey, and stuck out his
off fore-leg in a manner that boded ill for the morrow. However, they
all took their corn well, so we bade them good-night, and hoped for the
best. As we were out, we pursued our peregrinations awhile, and
inspected the domestic economy of the establishment. The building
occupied a large square, with the court open in the middle. The stables
and other offices occupied most of the ground floor, though some little
room was left for public apartments. The gallery, on one side of which
we were lodged, extended round the court, and was throughout divided
into separate guest chambers. These were all, like ours, solid, square
cells, affording the accommodation of four walls, and a pan for fire.
Besides this, each room contained a water pitcher, and this was the sum
of furniture. We promenaded for some time up and down the gallery, and
peeped into many open doors, so that we saw several samples. In one or
two of these we saw parties of travellers, on whom we gazed with as
little ceremony as had been used towards ourselves, and with as little
offence. They certainly were worth looking at, for they were wild
fellows, collected from no one knows where, and looked uncommonly
picturesque. At last our host brought in the supper, for which we were
particularly well disposed. We were at no time fastidious, and at that
precise moment of most indulgent mood toward all cooks. But the mess
that appeared almost baffled appetite. Turkish cookery, as practised by
the great, is first-rate in its kind. But if this supper was a fair
sample of their homely fare, I should not be ambitious of again proving
the cookery of a Khan. It was presented in a tub of vile aspect, which
one would have scrupled to admit to the office of a pediluvium, and
which certainly any respectable scullion would have rejected from the
service of washing dishes. Its contents were of the most suspicious
character. In a greasy soup floated fragments of animal substance,
corresponding in texture and form to the parts of no edible creature
within our knowledge. This was garnished with anchovies, and a goodly
loaf of bread, which last article was beyond reproach. Of course we had
no spoons, nor forks; so we tucked up our sleeves, and dived into the
soup. That which had offended the sight proved yet more vile in the
tasting; yet, since it pretty well quenched all desire to eat, it in
some sort, after all, did the duty of a supper.
All was quiet in the Khan at an early hour, and nothing disturbed our
slumbers. Early the next morning we rose and wandered forth into the
town. It is a happy custom for the traveller, that the Mussulmans are
careful to place a fountain near all places of public resort, for thus
has he always means of performing in some sort his ablutions. What with
the fountain, and a Turkish bath, we contrived to put ourselves into
condition for the emergencies of the day. The first thing was to sally
forth into the bazaar in search of a breakfast. Here we made it out on
kabobs, and a sort of cake like a large crumpet; the cake doing the
office of a plate. Kabobs are things better in a story than in
manducation, being excessively greasy compositions of odd pieces of meat
stuck on skewers, a poor imitation of the sausage. We found the town
rising in our estimation as we viewed it by daylight. The bazaar does
not, of course, afford such a display of rich merchandise as is to be
found in that of Smyrna. There is no show of costly carpets, and silks
from Brousa and Damascus. But the town, _quoad_ town, is decidedly
superior to the Asiatic metropolis. The streets are wider, the
buildings more substantial, the vagabonds not so many. All looks clean
and respectable. Here is no bustle of commerce, no appearance of social
fermentation. All has the quiet and settled air of a place where the
inhabitants have made their fortunes, and retire to enjoy themselves.
Seclusion and blissful ignorance have preserved them from the crotchets
of reformers, and continued to them the benefits of a wholesome
despotism.
But a sound burst upon our ears which made us start. A gush of music as
from a full military band was borne upon the air: and in good tune and
measure, moreover, did it sound. We knew that we were in a country
accustomed to raise any given number of soldiers at short notice; but
irregulars, wont to be disbanded on the termination of their special
service. But the case turned out to be that Magnesia was a grand cavalry
depot. We followed the sound and came up with the regiment, returning to
their barracks. A noble appearance they presented. The horses were
first-rate, and the men fine strapping fellows, who looked as if they
could do the state some service. We stood at the corner of a street past
which they were marching, and had a good view of them. It was a very
strong regiment, with a full complement of a thousand men. Their uniform
was of the new school, that is to say, after the European model. The
specimens of the regular infantry that are to be seen at Smyrna and
Constantinople, give but an unfavourable idea of the Turkish troops of
the line. It becomes them little to be cross-belted after our fashion,
and they seem to be sulky under the constraint of their accoutrements.
But these horsemen rode by in gallant style, showing, as occasion arose,
excellent horsemanship, and gathering perhaps some vivacity from the
noble animals whose curvetings demanded a vigilant eye, and firm seat.
After all, cavalry seems to be their natural strength, as it has been
ever since the days when they rode wild in the plains of the Selinga.
The natural genius of the people may be sufficiently understood, by a
comparison of the gallant-looking, serviceable dragoons, with the
sluggish fellows who carry the musket. They seem to be no more the stuff
whereof infantry is to be composed, than they are the stuff of which
sailors are to be composed. At this latter transmutation many efforts
have recently been made, and a good deal certainly effected, so far as
regards the mechanical duties of the sailor. All who were in presence
with the Capitan Pasha, lately, on the coast of Syria, were surprised at
the improved state of their powers of nautical evolution. But this is
merely an effort, whose effects cannot last, for the stuff is not in
them of which a sailor is made. Their look and bearing is enough to
condemn them immediately, and, moreover, enough to show that the
training is by no means agreeable to them. Now all these dragoons looked
as if their occupation was exactly to their taste, and as if they were
proud of their horses and themselves. The only absurdity on the parade
(for there was all absurdity, or it would have been contrary to all
Turkish precedent) was, that after the colonel, as gallant-looking a
fellow as one would wish to see, came his pipe-bearer, with the tools of
his craft strapped to his back. This certainly did come at the tail of
the procession with something of the air of an anti-climax.
We followed closely after them to see the fun, and arrived at the parade
ground before the barracks, just as they had dismounted, and were
walking about their horses to cool. We had some little hesitation about
venturing among them; for they have curious notions on the subject of
the evil eye; and it had happened to one of our friends to get a
particularly good pummeling from some soldiers, merely for looking
attentively at their horses. But these men were very civil, and even
invited our approach. One or two of the officers spoke to us. Presently
came a man who beckoned us to follow him, which we did without the least
idea of whither it was that we were bound. He led us right across the
parade ground, and into the grand entrance of the barracks. Here we were
received by a gentleman, who addressed us in Italian, and informed us
that he was the head physician to the regiment, and the particular
friend of the colonel, who was waiting up stairs to receive us. Up
stairs we went, the doctor preceding us, and volunteering to interpret.
The room was a most delightful retreat from the glaring heat of the day.
The floor was coolly matted, the walls were nearly bare, the sun was
excluded, and nothing hot met the eye. The colonel was sitting on the
divan at the upper end of the room. He rose as we entered, and received
us most politely. I call him _colonel_ to express the fact of his being
at the head of a regiment. But in truth he was a much greater man than
such a title is wont to describe. Not only was his regiment so strong in
numbers, but he was the military governor of the town; his correct
style, in their own language is Miralahi.
We could see plainly enough that he was a person of some consequence;
but the Italian doctor was determined to leave us, if possible, no
chance of a mistake in this matter. He interlarded his internunciary
discourse, with a continual annotation of asides, which became
monstrously amusing, seeing that they were spoken in full audience of
the individual who was their unsuspecting subject. He impressed on our
serious consideration that the colonel was a very great man indeed; able
to do pretty well what he liked in Magnesia: and we were to take note
that he, the doctor, could do what he liked with the colonel. I do not
know whether he handed over our speeches to the colonel in a more
genuine state, than we were quite sure he did those of the colonel to
us, from the quantity of alloy that we were able to detect. It is
probable that at least he polished our compliments, and somewhat
exaggerated our conditions. At any rate we were a very pleasant party,
and seemed mutually satisfied with our conversation. After a
considerable interval, during which we had partaken of his hospitable
cheer, we arose to depart. But he would not allow us to go, saying, that
English officers visiting that strange place must be his guests. He
would first show us the barracks, and then we must go home with him, and
dine. This proposal delighted us much, and we bowed a willing assent. We
had the curiosity to inquire how he had been made aware of our arrival,
as he evidently must have been, by the token of his having recognized us
on the parade ground, and having sent to us the invitation. He told us
that in the routine of his daily reports, our descriptions had been
presented to him as having arrived at the Khan: so that when he saw us,
he knew who we must be.
Presently we proceeded to inspect the barracks. Nothing could be nicer
or better kept than they were in all respects. No English barracks could
be cleaner or better ventilated. We saw also some of the officers'
quarters, which spoke well for the taste of the occupiers. The band, we
found, was composed entirely of natives. We had supposed that the master
of the band at least would have been a foreigner; but were assured that
Turkish skill, unassisted, had the training of the musicians, and even
the composition of much of the music. We went into the kitchen, and
tasted the men's dinner, which was ready prepared. It was a most
excellent soup or hodge-podge, that Meg Dods herself might have owned.
Thence we went to the stables, and here all was admirable. One might be
bold to say that no European regiment is better mounted. The colonel's
special stud was a noble collection, in whose exhibition he had
evidently much pride. We wound up our inspection with a visit to the
hospital, which we found the most admirable part of their menage. This
was the doctor's own province, and he minutely exhibited particulars. I
have seen a great many hospitals in my day, and am able to judge that
this was excellent. The building was of no pretence, but substantial
convenience was consulted. It was quite spacious enough for ventilation;
and the beds were all clean and comfortable, and disposed at
sufficiently wide intervals. This establishment is governed in chief by
the Italian doctor; but the second in direction, the surgeon as they
term him, and all the other functionaries, are native Turks. The
dispensary is excellently well kept, and among its duties is the keeping
of a regular sick-register. This details in form the malady and
treatment of each patient: so that satisfactory information concerning
any particular inmate may as readily be obtained here as in any London
hospital; and medical precedents as certainly established.
This register our friend had the complaisance to submit to our
inspection, and we were astonished at the exactitude of its detail. He
told us that among his duties, is that of making a regular nosological
return to government periodically, and a report of the number of deaths
with their respective causes. Few people would have been prepared to
find the exhibition of so much solicitude for the life and well-being of
the private soldier, on the part of the Turkish government. Such
humanised policy is at least wonderfully in contrast with all that we
hear of the domestic economy of these people but a few years back, and
with what, by all accounts, is the method pursued, even at this day, in
the armies of Mehemet Ali. In a very recent number of a French
periodical are given some details concerning the military usages of that
potentate, that, with every allowance for possible exaggeration, leave
the impression of a terrible reality. Indeed, without precise data, it
is easy to conceive that disease and death must riot among such
subjects, unless checked by vigilant supervision. Their habits are very
dirty, in spite of the ablutions to which they are constrained by their
religion, which affect only their arms and legs. Of the benefits of
clean linen they are in mere ignorance, and their fatalism is the spring
of all kinds of indiscretion. Think of seven or eight hundred such
fellows congregated in a barrack, with more than the probability that
some one of the number may have brought with him, from his dirty home,
the contagion of fever, perhaps of plague; and it will be easy to
conceive how great and constant must be the care that can maintain them
in tolerable health and comfort--a care that must subsist not only in
the hospital, but be extended over all arrangements affecting them.
The healthy and active appearance of the men was the best presumptive
evidence of the excellence of their regime. Had we even left Magnesia
without positive witness of their barrack economy, we should have felt
sure that these men must be ably officered and well looked after. It is,
with regiments as with ships, a standing truth, that efficiency of
condition is compatible only with efficiency and sympathy on the part of
the officers. The grand secret of our naval discipline is the
recognition of this truth: and no where does it find a more full
exemplification than on board our ships. There every officer (every
_good_ officer) feels for, and with, his men. Nothing, save the positive
requirement of the service, is allowed to interfere with their comfort.
The care of their health is as much the ambition and duty of the captain
as is the care of his ship. Few things in the strange world afloat would
strike a landsman more, than the minute attention habitually paid to men
who are hourly liable to the most perilous risks. At the need of the
service, limb and life are freely ventured; but not a wet jacket is
inflicted, nor a meal prorogued wantonly. Jack, who is burdened with no
care for himself, becomes devoted to his officers who care for him;
ready at their bidding to jump overboard, or to turn to and get the
mainmast out all standing. A well-ordered man-of-war, where this feeling
prevails from the quarter-deck to the forecastle, affords perhaps the
finest exhibition of harmony of purpose of which our nature is capable.
The inspection of a single regiment is insufficient ground whereon to
found general observations; but so far as this one specimen is
concerned, we can speak of the Turks as having made some slight approach
to this most desirable condition. We were surprised to find an Osmanli
in the position of surgeon to the establishment; because the religious
principles of such a one are understood to be invincibly opposed to the
prosecution of the studies that must qualify for such a post. Without
dissection what can they know of anatomy? and unskilled in anatomy, how
can they guide the knife healingly among the intricacies of the human
frame? Yet all the operative surgery in this hospital is the care of the
native surgeon, by whom the most formidable operations are successfully
performed. The best proof that these medicos are up to their work, is
found in the fact, that the sick-list was very small. It was quite
surprising to see how few beds were occupied. Indeed, the men are so
well clothed, well fed, and lodged so airily, that their tenure of
health must be far more secure when on service than when in their own
homes.
Our inspection had occupied some time, and brought the day well on to
the hour of dinner. The hospitable colonel having right courteously
satisfied all our inquiries, led the way to his domicile. Among the
notable experiences of this day, it was not the least that he himself by
his presence afforded us, enabling us to mark the tone of feeling
subsisting between himself and his men. I will defy any harsh taskmaster
to take me among his men, and prevent my reading in their demeanour the
fact of his ungentleness. Aversion and constrained fear, are motives too
powerful for the possibility of suppression in the presence of their
object. The eye is too faithful an index of the soul to give no spark
when the fire of hatred rages within. But as we passed through the
different buildings, every eye expressed cheerfulness and satisfaction.
They seemed pleased at our curiosity, and gratified with his visit. He
himself seemed delighted to play the part of exhibitor. He walked
through the different compartments, not exactly with the air of an
English dragoon, but still with a good deal of the soldier about him.
Take him all in all, he was one of the two best specimens of Turkish
great men that I have seen. The first place I reserve for my excellent
friend the Pasha of Rhodes. With all his slouching, happy-go-lucky air,
it was astonishing to see how much grace he managed to preserve; and how
the sense of authority was kept up, notwithstanding the simplicity of
his good humour.
When a man asks you to dinner, unless, indeed, he be a gipsy living
under a hedge, it is usual to suppose that you must enter his house. We
had reckoned on being introduced to the particular establishment of the
Miralahi, and rejoiced in the prospect of so befitting a conclusion
to our morning's researches. But our friend marshalled us onward through
stables and gardens, to the prettiest little kiosk you would wish to
see, snugly ensconced beneath vines and creepers, at one end of his
dwelling. Here-away nature assumes a regularity in her moods of which we
Englishmen know little in our own land. Here it really does rain in the
rainy season, and really is hot in summer. Thus knowing, almost to a
degree, the heat or cold they are at any time to expect, the happy
indigenous are in condition to suit their manner of life to the humour
of the season. This kiosk was the usual summer sitting-room; contrived
to a nicety in all respects so as to woo all cooling influences, and
exclude the sun. The sides were open towards that quarter whence the
breeze was wont to come; and a beautiful fountain threw up its abundant
stream so near to us that we almost received its splashing. We were
raised somewhat above the level of the garden, which lent to our
enjoyment the blended odours of lemon and citron. No carpet was there,
nor woollen substance, nor aught that looked hot. Cool mats covered the
tesselated floor within; and without, the eye was refreshed by gushing
water, and by the deep green of the orange and lemon trees. Truly, one
might be in a worse billet on a hot day!
But nothing edible appeared, nor any table, nor other appliance whose
presence we are wont to associate with the idea of dinner. One might
almost have supposed the kiosk to be the drawing-room, reserved for the
collecting together of the guests before their proceeding to the
banquet. Our host had picked up another friend in the course of the
morning, so that, with ourselves and the doctor, he had a very
respectable party.
We had been but a short time sitting in that state of palpable waiting
for dinner, which from St. James' to Otaheite is one and the same
recognised misery, when our host propounded to us, through the doctor,
the following thesis.
"There are different modes of dining, according to different nations."
The proposition was axiomatic: we looked assent, and waited for what was
to come next.
"The English have their way, the French theirs, and the Turks theirs.
How will you dine to-day?"
"Like true Osmanlis," we cried, emphatically and enthusiastically.
"Truly, mine host, we have capital appetites, and, moreover, an old
proverb on our side."
Now, it is not to be supposed that this worthy gentleman could really
have given us an entertainment in the styles he offered. No doubt it was
but a conventional phrase, and meant no more than the speech of the
Mexican does, who tells you to consider his house and all he possesses
as your own:--still it was civil. A sign was made to one of the
domestics, and significant preparations were forthwith commenced. Each
of us was furnished with a napkin, which we spread out upon our knees.
We further followed lead so far as to tuck up our sleeves: then came a
pause. Presently arrived an attendant, bringing an apparatus much like a
camp-stool, which was planted in the midst of us; and, on the top of
this, was anon deposited a large and bright brass tray. On this, in a
twinkling, appeared a basin filled with a savoury composition of kind
unknown. Into this all hands began to dig. It was uncommonly good
indeed, and disposed one for another taste. But almost before a second
taste could be had, the dish had vanished and was succeeded by another.
And so it was throughout the repast: the first momentary pause in the
attack was the signal for removal of the reigning basin, and the
production of another. There could not have been less than eighteen or
twenty dishes in all; most of them quite capital, and deserving of more
serious attention than the bird-like pecking for which alone space was
allowed. On the whole, it was a style of thing which would hardly suit
men seriously hungry: but it suits these fellows well enough, who, as
they never take more exercise than they can help, may be supposed never
to know what downright hunger is. Among their _plats_ was one of
pancakes, made right artistically, and as though in regard of
Shrovetide. We wound up with a bowl of sherbet, or some variety of that
genus, for the consumption of which we were allowed the use of spoons.
It would be pleasant enough to dine with them, were it not for the
barbarity of eating with one's fingers: an evil which their notions of
hospitality tend still further to aggravate. On occasions when they wish
to do particular honour to a guest, it is their custom to pick tit-bits
out of the dish, perhaps to roll up such morsels in a ball, and pop them
into the stranger's mouth. Sometimes the attentive host will dig his
fingers into the mass, and pile up the nicest pieces on the side of the
dish, ready for your consumption, and this by way of saving you the
trouble of selection. Happy were we that our friendly entertainer was
content with this milder exhibition of benevolence; for it did not
require any great ingenuity to pretend a mistake as to the identity of
morceaux. The malicious doctor seemed bent on making us undergo this
trial, and did his best, with winks and whispers, to rob us of our
ignorance. Very kind was this good Miralahi to us. We sat long, and
talked much with him, and he was urgent in invitations to us to prolong
our stay in the city. The inducement that he held out was certainly
tempting--nothing less than the promise that he would have, on our
especial behoof, a grand review of all his troops. Had we been free to
follow our will, we should most assuredly have accepted his invitation,
as well for the sake of its kindness, as because the chance of such a
review is not to be met with every day. He did give us a military
spectacle in a small way. In the course of conversation he fell upon
some inquiries concerning the cutlass exercise, and requested
illustrations. He then called one of his dragoons, and put him through
the cavalry sword exercise, after their manner: and a particularly
ferocious-looking exercise it was.
But the time was now come when we must bid farewell to the good colonel;
and we did so with a cordial sense of his hospitality, and a great
increase of respect for him as an officer. He pursued us with his good
offices; sending the doctor to the Khan with us, to assist us in a
settlement there, and giving us good counsel for our progress. He tried
very seriously, at first, to dissuade us from attempting a start so late
in the day, as he conceived it would be impossible for us to reach
Manimen, whither we were bound, that night. It is a fact, that
travelling after dark is not safe in Turkey: indeed, you would hardly be
allowed, after nightfall, to pass a guard-house. But we were determined
to take our chance of doing the distance within the time, as we knew
well that the number of hours allowed by authority were very much beyond
the mark of what we should take. Like a truly hospitable man, when he
found us bent on departing, he set himself to speed our departure. His
friend the doctor was at the trouble of repeating to us several times,
till we had pretty well learned them by rote, some of the most necessary
inquiries for food and provender, in the vernacular. When we had written
these down in the characters, and after the orthography of our
mother-tongue, we felt fully prepared for all contingencies.
How different was the spirit of our departure from that of our entry!
Not four-and-twenty hours since, we had ridden into the town, unnoticed
and unsheltered: we were now almost pained to say farewell. So short a
time had sufficed to work the difference between desolation and
good-fellowship. And though this instance be but of a feebly marked, an
almost ludicrous difference; you have but to multiply the degrees, and
you arrive at a picture of what is every day happening in the course of
the long journey on which we are all engaged. A man is stricken and
mourning to-day, because he is desolate; to-morrow he is radiant with
joy, because he has found a soul with which he can hold fellowship. The
spirit makes music only as the spheres do, in harmony. When I have
thought of these things, and felt that they tend to the cultivation of
human sympathies, it has seemed to me that I might draw a moral lesson
even from the recollection of my "Ride to Magnesia."