A TURKISH WATERING-PLACE.

Ten days ago, when snowed up by winter, recurrent for the third time

this season, I could not compel myself to the recollection of my Adalian

experiences. Now that I am sitting with window thrown wide open, and

with fire raked out, the spirit of the scene encourages memories of my

visit to that very hot emporium of Caramania.

We had been kept on the Smyrna station till we pretty well knew it under

every changing phase of season. Through the rigour of winter we had been

brought now to the very flagrance of the dog-star, to the time when

human nature can pretend no opposition to the mood of the lordly sun.

Even late in the autumn, these clear skies afford so little interruption

to the tide of sunbeams, that one is not quite exempt from risk of _coup

de soleil_. Indeed this is perhaps the very time when the untutored

stranger is particularly exposed to this danger. It is the only time of

the year when travelling can be pursued as a serious occupation; or when

one of the pale-faced Occidentals can venture forth _sub dio_ at

mid-day, without positive madness. During the months that, on the

admission of the indigenous, do duty as summer, the state of things is

so evidently beyond a joke, that no idea of trifling therewith enters

into the most unsophisticated mind. Life is reduced to something very

like a resignation of the sturdy substance of the day, and a diligent

employment of the two fag-ends. The intervening hours must be slept

away, or read away, or somehow employed without the requisition of

corporeal activity. And, considering that these are the hours during

which musquitoes vex not, and lesser tormentors of the rampant kind are

inactive, it is no slight boon to have such an interval, during some

part of which you may sleep in peace. As for the night, you may use it

for eating ices, or strolling on the Marina, or pulling out on the

phosphorescent waters of the bay; but unless you be very fresh, you will

hardly think of using that as the time for turning in. And thus are

rendered grateful those slumbers which are induced by the prevailing

spirit of noon. Of course, under such conditions of existence, there is

no great probability that much risk will be encountered by any one

gifted with the ordinary instinct of self-preservation. Should any one

be foolhardy enough to dare for himself the experiment, he would

scarcely find a _surridgi_ to furnish animals, or a guide willing to

pilot him. And should he even make a start of it, am I not the very man

to know what a lesson he would get in the course of the first six hours

of his march; and to predict that he would, should any brains be then

remaining to him, turn back on the strength of that same sample? It is

only a very young, and somewhat foolish person, who would be at all

likely to be found in this predicament. The dissuasion of the indigenous

is so earnest, and so without exception, that, considering their

knowledge of the facts, a prudent stranger must perceive in them the

substance of reason. The Asiatics, perhaps, carry a little too far the

dread of exposure to the atmospheric influences of summer; for they are

careful to shut out even the cool breezes of night, and dread the odour

of freshness that a shower calls forth from the earth. This delightful

exhalation they affirm to be the producer of fever. But indeed we may

concede to them the entertaining of some whimsies on this subject, as

being the necessary contingencies on their fatal experiences of marsh

_malaria_.

Happy we Englishmen and Scotsmen, who know not what this _malaria_

means! The worst story on the subject that I remember was a personal

adventure of my friend Beard. The scene of this adventure is a little

out of the way of Adalia, but it may serve to illustrate the style of

thing prevailing generally in this direction any where within hail of a

marsh. Beard was engaged in that (to those who like it) delightful, but

occasionally perilous duty of surveying. This involves the being sent

away in the boats for weeks at a stretch, during which time you go

groping along the coast, or threading out-of-the-way channels between

islands. It is easy to conceive that with fine weather, and healthy

shores, this must be a welcome duty to a young officer, full of zeal,

and unaccustomed to command. But sometimes the course will lie along

deadly shores, past which you must creep, and snatch hydrographical

facts from the teeth of death. Beard, poor fellow--and yet, considering

that he lives to tell the tale, we should rather congratulate than

pity--Beard was in command of a party of seven. Any one who knows the

service, knows that an officer accustomed to command a particular boat,

if he be a good fellow, acquires a strong fellow-feeling for and with

his men. This is but human nature, seeing that they are subject to

frequent and long isolations from the rest of the ship's company. I have

felt this influence strongly myself, and am persuaded that a sailor is

never so amiable a being as when away from his ship and from

civilisation, on some scrambling boat-expedition. He then puts off

altogether that selfishness of bearing which it often suits his humour

while on board to affect. Beard was one who entered fully into the

spirit of these expeditions; indeed he might have led one to suppose

that he would willingly have agreed to pass his life in a boat. On this

particular occasion they were coasting along Thessaly--those shores so

beautiful to look at, but of which the beauty, when the mists of night

descend upon them, reek with the breath of death. They proceeded

cautiously; and as their labours were protracted into new days and

weeks, and none of their little band had been stricken, they began to

hope, and perhaps to believe themselves seasoned and safe. The time for

them to rejoin the ship at last arrived, and not a man had been ill. One

man did indeed complain in the morning, but he laid in his oar, and they

hoped would soon be better. Presently another was forced to claim the

same exemption, and another. In short, they reached the ship with great

difficulty, and as by miracle, and not one of the party could mount the

side. They were all hoisted in, and in a few hours the only man of the

party who lived was my friend. In the pretty island of Sciathos is a

tomb, wherein sleep the whole party save that one. I have stood by this,

and read in the sad story of its inscription a sufficient warning on the

subject of marsh _malaria_. Once or twice I have come in its way, but

never willingly, and happily always without calamitous result. Once only

I have slept within its problematical range, and that was off that

pestiferous bit of coast near Epidaurus, and I fancy at a season when

the marshes had not their steam up.

We had among us a lesson, but not of this melancholy character, on the

absurdity of attempting to brave the daylight heat of summer. It is so

natural for an Englishman to look upon the mere natives of any place to

which he may come in his travels, as cheats and ignoramuses, that we, as

a matter of course, and most complacently, admitted the natives _en

masse_ and every where to that rating. In the course of our vagaries we

stumbled on the pretty island of Mytilene, in the very piping hours of

summer. Very cool and pleasant did it look to us shipmen, hanging down

its umbrageous olive groves nearly to the water's edge--and very

pleasant should we have found it to be, had we been content to defer our

landing till the authorised hour of eventide. But besides that the place

looked so inviting, we felt bound to give way to a little enthusiasm at

this approach to the birthplace of the lady who gave Horace the model of

"Jam satis terris nivis atque dirae" &c.

so nothing could hold us in from immediate disembarkation, and a cross

country ride. We went right across from one harbour to another--for it

has two, which between them nearly bisect the island. But so frightful

was the heat, that nothing but youth and English blood exempted us from

the penalty of fever. Some of the party were very nearly knocked up

mid-way; and we should scarcely any of us have managed to get back to

the ship as we did, had it not been our fortune to meet a resting-place

in the village of Loutri. Such attempts as this are the causes of the

sad casualties that we occasionally find happening to Eastern

travellers. How many have paid with their lives the penalty of an

unseasonable journey in Syria, especially on the coast between Beyrout

and Jerusalem. Only choose well your time, and you may proceed in

perfect security, so far as the dangers of nature are concerned. Any

attempt at forcing a journey is a folly; and a folly of which the

correction will come with the first experiment, if it leave to the

person any future opportunity of sublunary conduct.

But no one should mention Mytilene without saving a word or two in

praise of its beauty. All shrivelled up as we were by the heat--for we

were almost past the sudatory stage--we drank in some refreshment from

the scenery. Port Olivet has quite the appearance of a lake, and it is

only when quite at the spot that you perceive the real nature of the

locality. The hills around are finely shaded; and the masses of

olive-trees assumed, in the then lurid glare of sky and water, that

shadowy appearance that we used to see in Turner's pictures. They are

very famous for the production of a fine oil from their olives, which is

the staple commodity of the island, and of which they export

considerable quantities. By all accounts, nature, unassisted, may claim

the praise of this produce, for they are said to be careless

manufacturers. We went into one or two of the [Greek: ergasteria] to

witness the process of compression, but could not take it upon our

veracity to utter an opinion anent them. At least they seem in a fair

way to improve their wares; for the new consular agent of France (whom,

by the way, we took to his Barataria) is especially knowing in this

line, and hopes to produce, in a short time, oil that shall be equal to

that of France or Lucca.

After all this talk about the impossibility of travelling in the summer,

it augurs ill for our account of Adalia, to say that it was the very

heat and rage of summer when we landed there. But as we were not

volunteers on the occasion, we did not choose our own season. Like the

fifty thousand Cossacks who marched off to the East Indies, not because

they liked it, but because they were sent, we were saved all the trouble

of deliberation; and once arrived at the spot, we were sufficiently old

stagers to adapt ourselves to the ways and means of the place. I

remember that we were delighted at the start: catching at the prospect

of change, as at the hope of improvement. Certainly things were bad

enough with us in Smyrna bay at that time. The pitch was boiling in the

seams, the water was hissing along-side; the sky seemed an entire sun,

so truly were the fiery rays rendered back from every part of the

glowing concave. The sea-breeze, one's only solace under such

circumstances, was continually forgetting to come. In spite of the

common profession, that without the sea-breeze it would be impossible to

live hereaway, we continued to pant through days of breezeless

existence. At this time it was that I arrived at the conclusion which is

now established in the code of my economics, that the endurance at

Calcutta or Port Royal is a joke compared with what one has to undergo

in these milder latitudes. The dweller in Anatolia has no such range of

Fahrenheit to alarm him into defensive measures, and thus he falls

comparatively unprepared into the conflict with the dog-days. Your

Bengalee mounts defences of _tattees_ and punkahs that cool down a hot

wind, or whistle air into presence in a trice. Whereas in this part of

the world, as the Sirocco blows, so it must steal into your room,

parching your face, and covering you all over with a clammy stickiness,

through which you may distinctly feel the subdolent shudder of incipient

ague. When he has darkened his room, and spread cool mats on the floor,

the poor Smyrniot has nothing farther that he can do. And if such be the

case of those who dwell within the mansions of Ismir, who have at least

thick walls between them and the sun, what is likely to be the state of

those _disgraziatos_, who people the busy town of ships in the bay?--the

rash men

"--digitos a morte remotos

Quatuor aut septem."

Custom, they say, may bring a man to any thing, as it did M. Chabert to

the power of living in an oven; to which achievement, by the way, I

should not wonder if the first step had been the passing of a hot summer

on board ship in harbour. You may any day see, at some of our gigantic

iron-works, custom bringing men to such a pass, that they can endure to

stand before a fire that would be the death and cooking of an ox. And so

I suppose it was by force of custom that we were able to undergo a style

of thing that ought to have been the stewing of any ordinary flesh and

blood. But it was a stupid and languid life that we were leading,

scarcely venturing on deck even beneath the awning, and not dreaming of

shore except quite in the evening. Sometimes a morning's interest would

be excited by some story of plague in the Lazaretto, and a proposed

adjournment of the ship to Vourlah, to be out of harm's way; and such

speculations, though not exactly pleasurable, were at least

anti-stagnative in character. In any thing like decent weather it is not

bad fun to get down to Vourlah for a time, and to fly from the gaieties

of the metropolis to the pleasures of the _chasse_ at Rabbit Island. It

must ever be soothing to a spirit that has not quite forgotten "the

humanities," to walk upon the turf which witnessed the infant gambols of

Anaxagoras; and besides that, the locality is pretty, and worthy of

being visited on its own account. The town is at the distance of some

miles from the Scala, which last is the grand watering-place for the

ships on this station. Some few years ago, when the two fleets, French

and English, were here, an extempore town was devised on the beach, for

the benefit of the thousand and one hangers-on who are always found in

such neighbourhoods. This was a stretch of luxury on their part; for

generally these nautical suttlers need no other shelter than that of the

boat which contains their wares. They are always ready for a start, and

glad to be allowed to follow almost any whither in the wake of a ship. I

should think they might be rated amongst the most honest of their

compatriots, as they certainly may amongst the most hard-working and

courageous.

But no such luck had been ours, as to be assigned so pleasant an

adjournment. The longest cruise we had any of us managed to steal, was

perhaps in one of the cutters, as far as what we Englishmen persist in

calling St James's castle--a strange name for Turks to give a place, and

which, in fact, we have devisedly corrupted from their word _sandjeak_.

At last, one happy day--happy in its result, not in the complexion it

bore at its opening--we positively did receive orders for a start, and

this is the way it came about: The representative of sultanic dignity at

the somewhat retired watering-place of Adalia, was a man prone, like the

greater number of his countrymen, to judge of things altogether in the

concrete. The idea of power could by him be deduced only from present

violence; and without some such sensible manifestations, it became to

him like one of Fichte's "objects," i.e. all moonshine. With regard to

foreign powers, they existed for him, and influenced his government,

only so far as they sent occasionally a ship of war with its suggestive

influence of a frowning broadside to look in his way. They have no very

distinct idea, these gentlemen, of geography, nor of political science;

all thus are sadly out in their estimation of the relative importance of

places. To them the seat of their government is the world; or at least

the place in it of importance second to Constantinople. If they be

passed over in the distribution of our _corps de demonstration_, they

are apt to ascribe the omission to a want of power on our part. Now,

with all their excellencies, it call hardly be denied that they are

sadly apt to presume on any want of power in a neighbour. So it happens

that the unfortunate consuls who are stowed away in the obscurer

establishments, are apt to suffer from their caprice. Should it so

happen that the particular flag over whose interests the consul is

appointed inspector, should not have been displayed in the neighbourhood

lately by any ship of war, the short memory of a pasha is in danger of

forgetting that nation's claim to respect; for any thing that he knows,

it may have been revolutionised or sunk by an earthquake,--at least he

cannot bear the trouble of imagining any other reason for the

non-appearance of its executive ministers, than the obvious one of its

having no ships to send. Thus, in matters of precedence, consuls are apt

sometimes to get snubbed--a point on which, of all others, they are

tender: or in matters of justice, their clients will find themselves

ousted, in spite of the proverbial integrity of the Turkish judges.

Perhaps the readiest way of stumbling on a grievance, is the kind of

thing that gave rise to our visit, where some of the populace presume on

your want of protection, and commit some aggression on your rights as a

man and a brother. This being referred to the authorities, will be apt

to be viewed by them in the light of that consideration which they

happen to be lending at that moment to your nation. Poor fellows! we

must not be hard upon them; nor will we doubt the sound foundation of

the panegyrics which many travellers have pronounced on their honesty.

They are honest, no doubt, so far as they understand the doctrine of the

thing; but the fact is, they do not seem to understand the subject in

the abstract. They have no idea of judging a foreigner's cause, without

reference to considerations of his nationality and personal importance;

and to pronounce readily a decision in favour of one against whom should

lie the preponderance in these particulars, would be to them an

absurdity. We have had occasion lately to be struck with the tone in

which certain writers have spoken on the subject of Mussulman morals.

The first notability about such accounts is, that they are very

different from the reports of their predecessors--of such an accurate

man as Burkhardt for instance; and the second notability, so far as most

of us are concerned, is, that they are contrary to the general consent

of travellers. That there are excellent men, and honest among them, is a

fact; and it is a fact, that in general matters of bargaining, you may

trust to them. But when the idea of probity is carried out, so far as to

imply a view of things comparatively disparaging to Christian morals, it

mounts to an anti-climax, and falls over into the province of nonsense.

The Koran has provided them with much ethical guidance, of which

individual Turks, of any pretence to religion, must be in some degree

observant. But it is not true that the history of such cases, in their

administration of justice, as might have occurred in the court of the

old [Greek: polemarchos], will allow us to conclude that they are in

possession of a rule coercing them to be just and brotherlike towards

the unprotected stranger, abstractly and for justice's sake. Now, with

us you may find many individual rogues, but never a roguish court, nor

tolerated roguish public body. And of this difference between us

Christians and them Turks, it will not be difficult for any one to

supply the reason, who will give himself the trouble to think about it.

But as I was saying, at Adalia,--the town I mean, not the

province,--lived, with the authority of local governor, a personage

styled a _Caimacan_. This is a person inferior to a regular pasha,

having in fact a sort of acting rank. One remembers this style and title

well, because it puts us in mind of the nicest thing eatable that the

Levant affords--_Caimac_, which is something very like Devonshire cream,

only better. This Caimacan, being a sort of great man's great man, is

apt not to bear his honours meekly. At the precise time of which I

speak, the Sultan was raising considerable levies in different parts of

his dominions, for the benefit of good order among the Albanians. Near

Adalia was a military rendezvous for the forces raised in that

neighbourhood, and the command _pro tempore_ of the new levies was

assigned to the Caimacan. So that the poor man was labouring under an

accession of dignity.

At Adalia also lived a certain Ionian--from the Seven Islands, friend,

not from Asia--who had been led thither by a speculation in the soap

trade. To judge by the evident want of the article, would have been to

pronounce a most favourable opinion as to the probable result of such

speculation. In fact the man succeeded only too well; he boiled so

successfully, and sold so cheaply, that all the native competitors were

beaten out of the field. The true believers were, of course, indignant

at this conduct of an infidel and a stranger; and as they could not

weather on him in the fair way of trade, they determined to try if they

could not "choke his luff" by a practical expedient. Paying him a visit

one day, they spoiled his stock in trade, broke his gear, gave him a

good thrashing, and told him to take that as a gentle hint of what they

would do if he did not behave himself for the future. The poor fellow

appealed to the Caimacan for satisfaction for the injury done, and for

security against future violence. From this person he received no

assistance, and was left to fight it out as he best could against his

opponents.

Those dear Ionians! creditable fellow-countrymen are they for us, and

profitable. No people assert more unflinchingly their privilege of

national relationship with ourselves, and thus do we get the credit of

all the rows which they may kick up throughout the Mediterranean. It is

highly amusing to see the style in which they will declare themselves to

be Englishmen, not merely as allies and protected for the time being,

but with the implication of a claim to identity of race. A son of Ithaca

or Zante will talk as if he were a true Saxon. Certainly, the Turks seem

to make little distinction between the races. That the men are under

British protection, is for them sufficient reason for esteeming them to

be Englishmen. Sometimes their classification of races shows an amusing

ignorance of, and indifference to the whole set of national distinctions

among Franks. I remember that all who attended the services of the

British chaplaincy at Smyrna, were called English, though among them

were many who could speak scarcely a word of the language; and so all

who went to the dissenting meeting-house (for they have one there) were

called Americans.

Our poor soap-boiler being reduced to extremity, having lost his goods,

and being afraid to make a fresh start of it, betook himself for

assistance to the English vice-consul. The office was at that time

filled by a very efficient person--one, moreover, who had for many years

resided in the country, and understood well the language and national

genius. But it so happened that just then a long time had elapsed since

any of our men-of-war had paid a visit to the road-stead and consular

dignity was in a condition of proportional depreciation. The consul,

however, as in duty bound, paid his visit of remonstrance, and laid

before the great man the wrong done within his jurisdiction; whereupon

the Caimacan behaved like any thing but a gentleman, and, far from

promising to remedy the ill done, gave him to understand that he did not

care sixpence for soap-boiler or consul either. Mr ---- had sufficient

knowledge of the people to know that this declaration of opinion was

strictly true, and that the only plan to correct it, would be to prove

himself able to summon an armed force to his assistance. Till they saw

this, nothing would be able to persuade the Adalians that he was not

either deserted by his country, or that his country had not lost the

power to assist him.

And thus it was that Mr ---- wrote to his chief at Smyrna a description

of the ticklish state of circumstances, and explained that unless

English commercial interests at Adalia were to be suffered to go

altogether to the wall, some strong preservative must be sent thither in

the shape of a stout ship, with a goodly array of long thirty-twos. And

so was it that word came to the good ship Falcon, which thereupon spread

forth her wings, or, in plain language, hoisted her topsails, and set

forth on her conciliatory expedition. Besides that we were delighted to

get away in any direction from the stagnation of Smyrna--a stagnation

affecting air, sea, and society,--it was a recommendation of the cruise

in this particular direction that none of us had ever been there before.

There is little reason why in a general way it should be visited from

one year's end to another,--I mean in the way of business, at least the

business of those who have to distribute their attention throughout

these seas for the interests of general pacification. The place, as we

afterwards found, is not without commerce; but there are no merchants of

our nation except the vice-consul. The advantages of this place as a

trading station, more especially as being a station where he would find

no competitors, had induced him to settle here. And the _prestige_ lent

by the consular name, afforded sufficient inducement for the undertaking

of an office, which, if it be not very lucrative, at any rate involves

the responsibility of no very serious duties. Though now and then a man

in office may forget himself, yet in the long run a consul is sure to be

treated with deference, and to reap considerable commercial advantages

from his position. Be it understood, that here there are other

merchants,--but the indigenous, chiefly Turco-Greek. Besides a single

gentleman who acted as assistant to the vice-consul in his various

duties, we did not find a Frank resident. We heard, indeed, that there

was also an Austrian, but we did not see him, so I suppose that he could

hardly have been of much consequence.

The weather at first beguiled us with symptoms of a change for the

cooler, and lent to our sails some pleasant breezes as we passed out of

the Gulf of Smyrna. As we sped onward, things became even better, and

especially delighted us with their aspect off Rhodes. It is a singular

fact, well known to those who know the locality, that the day scarcely

occurs in the year when this island is afflicted with a calm. For some

reason it so happens that, pass when you will, you are pretty sure to

find a stiff breeze blowing. One of the points of the island, which

thrusts out into the sea a long and low promontory, shows that the

natives here know how to turn this physical provision to good effect.

This point is in the most curious way studded with windmills, and from

this its garniture has received its name in our geography. These poor

machines rarely know an hour's quiet, but continually throw about their

long arms in what, from a little distance, seems to be a mere confusion

of material. Past this exquisitely beautiful island, of whose strand the

recollection is fraught with associations of unfeverish existence, we

sped rapidly before the breeze, which almost made us regret the land we

were leaving. Truly should we have regretted it, had we but known the

breezeless condition on which we were about to enter! For some

four-and-twenty hours before we arrived at our port, the weather changed

eminently for the worse. The feathery vanes stirred not, and the canvass

flapped against the mast, as the old girl rolled lumpingly in the swell.

She was a dear old ship as ever floated, but like all other things

sublunary, animate, or inanimate, was not without her faults. Of these

the worst, nay, the only one to speak of, was the habit of rolling about

most viciously whenever she had a chance. The sun poured upon us such a

flood of heat, that awnings became a joke. Things were so thoroughly

heated during the day, that the night scarcely afforded sufficient hours

to cool them down, for a fresh start next morning. We began almost to

question whether we had not changed bad for worse; and very soon made up

our minds that without any mistake we had. We arrived at this

conclusion, as the port of our destination hove in sight. It was towards

evening that we crept in to our anchorage, through an atmosphere

scarcely sufficiently alive to give us motion, and so almost glowing

that it seemed to burn us as we passed. The place was wrapped in

breathless stillness: no boats came forth to try a market with us, or to

gratify their curiosity; and no sounds issued from the shore, which

might have been deemed almost unhaunted of men.

When daylight revealed the features of the place, we perceived the

pretensions of Adalia in the way of the picturesque to be of a high

order. Neither was there wanting matter of admiration even in the night,

though we were suffering too much discomfort to be easily pleased by

mere pictures. The shore, in its way, afforded an unusual spectacle. The

town stands on high ground, and on both sides the line of coast is

formed by lofty cliffs, stretching far away into the distance. What of

the beauties of these depended on the light of day for development, were

reserved for our edification on the morrow. But the good people had

ornamented their country just then in a fashion more appropriate to

embellish the night than the day. Enormous fires were blazing on the

cliffs, which skirted the bay up which we were advancing,--if we may

apply so familiar a word to the conflagrations that met our sight. The

most active spirit of incendiarism had been afloat, for entire woods

were seen in a state of burning. We never discovered whether this

destruction was by accident, or of set purpose: if it were done by way

of obtaining charcoal, the price of that article one would think must

have fallen in the market. But as these fires blazed away in the clear

dry air of the night, they lit up the bay, and almost threw upon the

waters the dark shadow of our masts and yards. At first, when at some

distance, we had been disposed to account for the lurid appearance of

the heavens, by supposing that distance and refraction had effected a

cheat upon our senses. When we came nearer, the only thing we could

suppose was, that the whole country, was in the course of destruction.

It is hard to say whether the distance at which we anchored from the

shore was not too great to allow of the production on us of any sensible

effect from these fires: that we had any misgiving on the subject may

serve to show that they were enormous. I know that at the time we made

up our minds, that to their agency was to be attributed some portion at

least of the heat that oppressed us. The wind came off in gusts of

overpowering heat; not with that tepid influence that grumblers

sometimes denounce as a hot wind, but with the full sense of having come

from a baker's oven. At least we had a grand sight for our pains, and

therefrom reaped some consolation as we clustered panting on the deck.

I remember to have seen something in this way before, though on a

smaller scale, and that was in the island of Euboea. Once in my life,

I had a very near view of the recent scene of such a conflagration in

one of the smaller Greek islands. It was in taking, according to our

custom, a ramble right across the land, that we came on no less a

collection of embers than the _debris_ of an entire forest, which lay

smouldering at our feet. I know that, having commenced from curiosity

the work of picking our way through the ashes, we found the undertaking

more arduous than we quite fancied, and that our trowsers and shoes

would afterwards have fetched but little in Monmouth-street. The Greeks,

it is understood, light up their bonfires, partly by way of amusing

themselves, and partly by way of hinting displeasure at things in

general. Of course, it is quite obvious, that any party who wish to

prove a minister's rule to be calamitous, assists their argument by

increasing the sum of calamity.

But night with its miseries at length was passed. During its course, the

thermometer did not get below 90 deg. What it reached in the daytime it

boots not to record--and signifies less, because when the sun is above

us, we bargain for a hot day in summer. But oh! those nights, when by

every precedent we should have had cooling dews, and refreshing air!

However, the sun rose, and the people on shore rose too. There was no

tumultuous rushing forth in boats to have a look at the new comers, as

there is so apt to be on the arrival of a man-of-war. A quiet little

dingy would steal out, manned by three or four mongrel-looking Greeks,

and row round us at a respectful distance. The fact is, that the people

had got scent of the reason of our coming: and as a reclamation of right

is by them supposed to be incompatible with any thing but an angry mood,

they were afraid to approach us. The town itself we perceived to be a

most ill-conditioned looking place. Harbour there is none--at least none

available in a breeze from seaward. A heavy sea sets right in, and must

strand any thing found anchored here. We were afterwards told, that in

the bad weather of the winter before our coming, the sea had washed some

vessels right up into the town. This want of a harbour is the most

serious drawback to the commerce of Adalia. It is, in every respect

except this, adapted to serve as the general emporium of the interior.

Even at present, notwithstanding its disadvantages, a good deal of

business is done here: but ships can never lie before the town in peace,

nor commence loading and unloading, with the confidence that they shall

be able to get through their work without having first to slip cable and

be off. But the town must be in other hands before so arduous a work is

likely to be undertaken.

A most unserviceable rumble of a fort mounted guard over the town, in a

position little likely to be of use in repelling an attack by sea.

Perhaps it might have been available as a maintainer of good order in

the town, should the spirit of insubordination haply spring up therein:

but we could hardly have credited the walls as possessed of sufficient

stability to stand the shock of a report. We saw the artillery-men, busy

as bees, at their guns--evidently standing by to return the salute which

we were expected to give. But this would have been far too civil

treatment for them, while matter of dispute between us remained. We

maintained a dignified silence.

It was not long before Mr ---- found his way off to us, and put us up to

the actual state of affairs. It seemed that little Pedlington was in an

uproar. The whole of the Adalian public were in a state of lively

commotion. Of course, as they had bullied loudly, they were abject in

concession. Those more immediately concerned in the outrage on the

soap-boiler, would have infallibly absconded, had not the strong arm of

the law laid an embargo upon them, and laid them by as scapegoats in the

first instance. The prevailing opinion about us was, that we should

certainly blow the town about their ears, but that still all must be

essayed to conciliate us. The Caimacan himself, the great man who had

given rise to the remonstrance on our part, had taken himself off, and

left his deputy in command. This was professedly to look after some

troops that he was recruiting in the neighbourhood, but we gave him the

credit of practising a dodge to get out of the way of an awkward

business. A striking peculiarity of the business was, that no doubt

seemed any longer to be maintained as to the issue of the negotiation.

The question of right and wrong was no longer considered as being open;

but the verdict was already presumed to be given against those whom we

challenged as offenders.

It was thought advisable to pay some attention to appearances on the

occasion of our interview with the governor. No suit prospers with them,

in a general way, unless backed by good personal appearance. For this

reason we mustered a strong party of officers, in imposing costume; and

by way of evincing our determination, proceeded with as little delay as

possible to the divan. The usual motley group of starers gathered round

us at the landing, and escorted us up the rugged street to the _palais

de justice_. They all seemed to be affected with the spirit of fear,

except our partisans, who were in a state of exultation from the like

cause. Two individuals in particular were amusingly and palpably

possessed with the spirit of triumph, and they were the two attendants

of the vice-consul. These men were worthy of notice on other accounts,

but singularly remarkable in respect of the effectual manner in which

they seemed to have divested themselves of national prejudices. They

were enthusiastic fellows, who had not merely let out their services to

the representative of England, but seemed fairly to have made over to

him the allegiance of heart and head; retaining no sympathy with their

own countrymen. Thus did they seem to rejoice eminently in our coming,

and the consequent humbling of the local authorities. They were two

strapping fellows--as janissaries, to be any thing worth, should always

be--and marshalled us the way in grand style.

The unhappy rabble seemed to be suffering the pangs of most cruel

privation when the cortege arrived at the residence of justice, and they

found themselves left in the lurch at the threshold. In such mood you

see a London mob flattening their noses against the panes of a chemist's

window, or hanging outside of a replete magistrate's office. One comfort

is, that the economy of a Turkish _menage_ perfectly admits of the

establishment of a line of scouts, even from the very presence-chamber:

so that earliest intelligence may be conveyed to the gentlemen without.

Mr ---- gave us by the way a few hints as to etiquette, and engaged to

prompt us as occasion might demand. I have said already that he was

perfectly up to conversation in the native language and might have well

played the part of interpreter. One might might have supposed that this

would have been taken by the people rather as a compliment; and that it

would have been considered creditable to a foreign agent to have

acquired a knowledge of the vernacular of the people with whom he had

constantly to treat. But the contrary is the fact. To speak for one's

self is far too simple a mode of conducting business: and he who would

preserve his dignity in any consideration, must retain the services of a

dragoman. To conduct an important interview without the intervention of

this functionary would convey to the Turks an idea of slovenly

negligence. A good thing is it when the agent, commercial or diplomatic,

possesses sufficient knowledge of the language to enable him to check

the version of the interpreter, who otherwise is apt to take liberties

with his text. However, we were in this case quite safe: first, in the

assurance of Mr ---- that he would risk his life on his dragoman's

veracity; and next, because it was clear that no word could pass which

was not likely to be reinterpreted to us.

We marched into the room, and made our salaams-some of us inconsiderable

ones very truculently, for we were very irate; and on all such occasions

a man's indignation rises in exact proportion to the degree in which he

has nothing to say to the matter. The deputy Caimacan was sitting on a

divan at the top of the room, and rose politely as we entered. There

were too many of us to find room in the divan, so we were scattered

about as best we could light on places. The main difficulty was to get a

place that looked clean enough to sit upon; for a dirtier palace I never

saw, nor a more, beggarly. One cannot say whether the head governor had

taken all his traps with him when he went a-soldiering; but if what we

saw really was his establishment, it is likely enough that he had gone

away to avoid exposing his poverty.

"_Hosh Gueldin_," said the Turk; "you are welcome."

And now was to be seen a fine contrast between Oriental apathy and

British energy. The Turk sank back on his seat, as if disengaged from

all care, and not quite up to the trouble of entertaining his morning

visitors. The English Captain sat bolt upright, "at attention," and

opened the business of the _seance_ at once.

"Tell the Governor--"

"Stop a moment," said Mr ----, "that's not the way to begin."

"What is the way then?"

"First, you must smoke a pipe--there's one coming this way. You would

shock all their notions of propriety by entering abruptly on business.

We must have first a little talk about things in general."

Just then the Governor roused up, and addressed to the Captain, through

the dragoman, some observation on the weather or the crops. Then came a

servant with a chibouque and coffee: and the head negotiators were soon

co-operatively engaged.

And no bad way of beginning business either; especially in cases where

there may be a little awkward rust to rub off. The only objection to the

amusement in this case was, that it was not general--pipes being

afforded only to the heads of departments. This was a style of treatment

so different from all our experience, that it left me more fully

persuaded than ever that the Caimacan had walked off with his goods and

chattels, not forgetting his pipes.

This fumatory process proceeded for some time, almost in silence. It

afforded the several parties opportunity to settle the speeches they

intended to make, and certainly must have been useful in the way of

allaying the angry passions of their several minds. We, who had none of

the business on our consciences, and had come merely to make up the

show, employed this interval in taking cognizance of the localities. The

household appointments were sadly inferior to those we had been

accustomed to see; and especially must this condemnation fall on the

servants, who were a most dirty, ill-conditioned set. They stood

clustered about the doorway in groups, looking furtively at us, and

whispering counsel.

"Halloo!" said Mr ----, "they have determined to be prepared for

contingencies. There are the culprits, I see, in waiting for the

bastinado, if such should be your demand."

And there, sure enough, they had the poor fellows just outside, waiting

to be scourged for the propitiating of our wrath. Evidently they were

little aware that the affair had changed altogether its complexion; and

that the culpability had in our eyes been transferred from the original

rioters to the protectors of the riot.

When, eventually, the signal was given for commencing business, it was a

fine thing to see how beautifully submissive the deputy had become. He

began by declaring that he could not arrange the matter, but must refer

it to his chief, and wanted much to put off the discussion till that

functionary should arrive. On this it was hinted to him, that it would

have been polite and proper had that gentleman remained in the way to

settle the row, which had occurred by his own fault, but that we could

not await his return. Either must they undertake at once to make full

reparation for the wounded dignity of the Consul, and for the injurious

treatment of the Ionian, or they would see what they should see. It

needed little pressing on our part to break down the feint which had

been set up by way of opposition. The deputy soon declared that all

should be as we wished. He still stuck to his declaration, that the

actual settlement of the business was beyond his province, and that he

must wait for the sanction of his commanding officer. But meanwhile he

took upon himself to declare the terms on which things might be

considered virtually settled; and they were, that we were to have

everything our own way. This result was obtained by us without recourse

had to any thing like bullying; and we were able, in this instance, to

behave in a more civilised manner, because we were backed by so much

real authority, and show of present power. But little doubt is there,

that, however unfavourable the inference with respect to Turkish sense

and honesty, the mode most commonly to be recommended in dealings with

them, is by _in terrorem_ proceeding. They cannot understand the

co-ordinate existence, of power and moderation. Very good fun will

sometimes be enacted by the knowing for the cowing of a pasha; and in

almost any case the only fear of _echouance_ is where there may exist

too much modesty. But only bully hard, and you are tolerably sure to

gain your point. It is by no means necessary that your arguments should

carry the cogent force of soundness. Appearances are what weigh chiefly

with those whose habits of thinking do not dispose them to discuss

argument. One sharp-witted fellow that I knew brought to successful

issue a decisive experiment on the readiness of pashas to be taken in by

mere sound. He went into the vice-regal presence, attended by a dragoman

whom he had previously instructed in the subject-matter to be

propounded--some question of redress for grievance. It was necessary

that he should say something on the occasion, and afford the appearance

of telling the dragoman what to say: but as this person already knew his

lesson, it was not necessary that what he said should be to him

intelligible. Nothing occurred to him as likely to be more effective in

delivery than the celebrated speech of Norval about the Grampian hills;

which accordingly he recited with due emphasis, standing up to give the

better effect to the scene. The end desired was fully attained. The

pasha opened wide eyes, as the actor grew excited, and was visibly

affected by the assumption of towering passion. He soon began to try to

pacify him, and beg him to be easy. "Inshalla! all should be as he

wished." The upshot of our argument with the deputy Caimacan was, that

he would send immediately to his chief, for a confirmation of the

pacification between us, and that meanwhile we were to amuse ourselves

as well as we could. But for all we saw, amusement was one of the good

things not easily to be had at Adalia. It is so deeply retired in

uncivilisation, and so wanting withal in the excitements of energetic

barbarism, that human life is there tamed down to the most passionless

condition. It was, too, notwithstanding the season, a time of unusual

commercial enterprise just then. It was the year of the murrain in

Egypt, which destroyed so enormous a proportion of their cattle; and

Mehemet Ali was sending in all directions to purchase horses, asses, and

kine. A large corvette of his came in while we were there, on this

service. She had landed her guns, and was filling her deck with

livestock. There was also a deal of business going on just then in the

timber line. But little evidence of this brisk state of the markets was

given by the people. A good many visitors certainly came off to see us;

but that was rather a reason why we should have accused the populace of

idleness. We were struck with the appearance of many of the old fellows

who honoured us with visits. They retained, without exception, the

orthodox dress and beard of the old school. Among them were a great

number of the green turbans, which mark the sacred person of the

"Hadji." Such a clustering of these distinguished characters made us

fancy at first that Adalia itself must be invested with the idea of some

peculiar sanctity. But we found that these gentlemen were merely _en

route_, tarrying at Adalia, a great point of embarkation, for

opportunity to pursue their journey. The place is in one of the great

high roads to the Hedjaz: and of the swarms who pass through it every

year, many pilgrims have not sufficient funds to defray the expense of

travelling either way. It then becomes a work of charity for the more

opulent of the faithful to speed them on the journey. But that they

depend on such means of travelling is reason sufficient to account for

long in their line of locomotion, and for their congregating here in

considerable numbers. Of all places likely to maintain the constant

infection of plague, this must be one of the first: for notoriously

among no people is the disease so rife as among the pilgrims.

The worthy consul did his best to embellish the days of our sojourn with

pleasurable episodes. Society there was not likely to be any; but yet

such as, for want of better, they had, he undertook to show us. He

really seemed very much obliged to us for our opportune visit, and said

that it would be the making of him. It certainly did seem to be quite

necessary to the maintaining of the dignity of his office. One

invitation we had from a merchant of the place, a man whom they

described as being very rich and of great influence; and a plan was laid

for our having a picnic in the country. There is a place in the

neighbourhood of the town which has been prepared expressly for the use

of those who make rural excursions. A thick grove of trees keeps off the

sun, and soft turf lends a seat to the revellers. We could make out the

top of the trees from the anchorage, for the country is of an elevated

character, hanging out on lofty cliffs the different features of its

panorama. The effect produced by this arrangement of the scenery is

highly beautiful. It has in profusion one element of the beautiful, and

that is the feature of cascade. There is in one point a congress of

waterfalls, whereat may be counted no less than nine separate streams,

which pour down their abundance from the cliffs into the sea. The good

consul and his satellites bore us pretty constant company; and of great

service they were in preserving order among the motley crew that

constantly thronged our decks. We did not like to qualify the good

report we had so far gained and maintained, by any exhibition of

harshness towards the mob. But the sturdy janissary of Mr ---- thought

nothing of laying his stick across a fellow's shoulders, by way of

reminder to behave himself. I must say that many of them deserved it,

and for their sakes can but hope that they profited by the attention.

Mr ---- had two men in attendance upon him, without whom he never

stirred abroad. They were brothers, but filled situations of different

rank. One was dragoman, a post of which the occupation entitled him to

the consideration of a gentleman; the other was merely henchman or

janissary, of which dignity the allocation is in the kitchen. I remember

that it pained me to see one brother walk in to dinner, while the other

poor fellow had to keep guard without. But they seemed well used to the

enforcement of the distinction, and to find therein nothing of

invidiousness. Fine fellows were they both, and highly lauded by their

master. There is surely something extraordinary in these instances,

where men are brought to devote themselves implicitly to a foreign

service, in the heart of their country, and amid the full play of

national prejudices. That they really are faithful followers, is I

believe beyond doubt; and that sometimes under trying circumstances.

With these two individuals especially, we had so much intercourse, that

we were enabled to see how admiration for the English entered into the

main current of their feelings. It so happened that we had come here to

the very place where that early victim to the zeal of travel, Mr

Daniels, had shortly before met his doom. While following in the track

of Mr Fellowes, he caught the fatal Xanthian fever; and after many

relapses died here. That these men were very kind and attentive to him

may be argument only of their humanity. But there was something in the

emotion with which they spoke of him, that betokened a sense of

fellowship, beyond what men of such differing creeds are apt to feel for

a travelling stranger. They spoke of sitting up with him at night,

giving him his medicine, and weeping for him, when there remained no

room for active solicitude. The idea of dying amidst strangers in a

foreign land, with no familiar face at the bed-side, is a desolation

whose thought cannot pass over the spirit without beclouding its

sunniness. And yet we may rely upon it, that amongst those most

affectionately tended and most generously wept, have been they who have

met their last hour under such circumstances. Human hearts all vibrate

in harmony to one chord: in the good this sympathy is ready; in the bad

it is dulled; but never while life and hope remain, can the silver chord

be said to be cut. And so it is, that the same image of the forlorn,

which, as affecting any that we love, appeals at once to the deep wells

of compassion, will cause the same feeling of compassion to thrill with

the remotest stragglers of the family of Adam. It is not a matter of

reasoning, but an instinct. There is in the sight of helpless suffering

a power to disarm human ferocity. And if that be the gentlest

death-pillow that is breathed upon by the prayer and lighted by the eye

of family love, depend upon it that far from the ungentlest is that,

whose presence has brought to rude and rough natures the putting off of

their roughness, and the recognising of the sweet faculty of compassion.

Happy is that desolation, even in the last hour, which can awaken the

heaven-like eagerness to be to the dying one a minister from his far-off

home! A man might be happy so to die, that he might light up so much of

heaven within a human breast.

Both these _attaches_ of the consulate were men of note. The dragoman

had been captain of a troop of cavalry in the service of Mehemet Ali,

and on some quarrel with his commanding officer had left the service and

kingdom. He was a person of polished manners, and some education, and

thus enabled to produce agreeably in conversation the results of his

experience of many lands and people. He rather astonished us with the

extent to which he carried _jeune France_ principles, that seem so

entirely incompatible with the holding of Mahomedanism. But wonderful it

is to see how the French spirit circulates in the most apathetic

societies, seeming to find in them a latent vitality suited to its

purpose. The manners of a Mussulman are so stereotyped, and his subjects

of conversation so provided for by law, that it seemed quite an anomaly

to see this Turk drinking wine after dinner, and talking like a man of

the world. It would not seem that such an effect on the personal

character is the invariable result of educating a Turk in Paris, though

such an effect is exactly what we might expect. I have met a native of

Constantinople, who had brought back with him from France only the

language and the personal deportment, retaining withal the

anti-reforming spirit of his orthodox brethren. But this spirit of

resistance to innovation is fast fading away; and as innovation once

begun here must lead to revolution, it is not difficult to foresee that

a few more years only shall have passed, when the character of the Turk

will have become historical, and the scenes that at present embellish

their corner of the world, will have to be sought for in the

descriptions of pen and pencil. Whether the influence emanate from the

throne, or whether the court be following the popular metropolitan

movement, it is difficult to say. But among them is assuredly at work

the spirit of change, that must shortly carry away the mouldering

edifice of their present institutions. This is something too vetust to

abide the shock of any agitation. Let us hope that their changes may be

successively biassed towards the better: may they acquire the urbanity

of our great masters in elegance, without their profligacy; and if they

reject Mahomedanism, may it be to receive in exchange something better

than mere infidelity.

The brother of the _ci-devant_ captain was a quiet, unassuming fellow,

who wanted language to communicate with us freely. Nevertheless he

managed to interest us much, with an account of the sufferings and

trials of his youth. They were by birth Moreote Turks; and in the

revolution of that country, when first the Greeks arose against their

Turkish masters, (for really one must particularise in talking of Greek

revolutions,) they had suffered the loss of all their protecting

kindred, and hardly, children as they were, by some kindly intervention,

been themselves saved. It is a sad thing, but a truth, that in this

exterminating war, the cold-blooded massacreing was not all on one side.

The horror and hatred of these deeds have, with their infamy, rested

chiefly on the Turks, because theirs was the power to exceed in

enormity; but the black veil of guilt rests on both sides of the strife.

Still, however blameable the Greeks may be, for the cruelty committed on

occasion, they were far from having power to work the enormous

destruction of harmless life, whose memory still weighs on the Turkish

power, and whose record is still extant in the evidence of ruined and

dispeopled cities. But a short time before coming to Adalia, we had

visited the island of Scio--that island which once was the garden of the

Levant, and the storehouse of her riches. Even now, the great majority

of the Greek merchants who are so prosperous a body in London, are

Sciotes; and in those days they had pretty well all the commerce of the

Levant in their hands. They delighted themselves in adorning their

beautiful island with the artifices which money can command to the

decorating of nature. At present a mass of ruins defaces that lovely

spot. One is disposed to wonder that the Turks have never been at the

pains to clear away the wreck of the town, if only for the sake of

removing the monument of their cruelty. Mere selfish motives might

induce them to be at that pains, and to restore this island to its

former fitness for the habitations of the rich. At present it is one

wide ruin; noble streets are there, with the shells of their houses

remaining, as they were left in the day of massacre and pillage. The few

inhabitants are stowed away in the one or two odd rooms of the old

mansions that remain; being now reduced to such poverty that they have

had neither spirit nor money to build for themselves; and probably

finding it more congenial to the present spirit of their fortunes to

roost among the bats and owls, rather than in trim streets. One

occurrence gave us much pleasure, because it gave the lie to a story

which has many abettors. It is said that when the garrison in the

fortress, and the fleet before the town, were promoting the havoc, the

English consul, from some punctilio on the subject of neutrality,

refused shelter to the miserables who fled to his threshold. One old

woman, in the story of her sufferings, gave us a full contradiction to

this most incredible tradition. She had invited us into her dwelling to

look at her wares, in the shape of conserves and purses--a strange

combination, but nevertheless the articles by the sale of which they eke

out their living. We were fully consoled for the trouble of passing over

and through the _debris_ of some half-dozen houses which lay between us

and her domicile. It came out that she herself had been saved by flying

to the English consulate. It was a comfort to hear this--and to hear it

in a way that involved the fact of an indefinite number of refugees

having found the same shelter. Many rejoice to say that the French

consul was the only efficient protector in that day of horror; and of

these times, though so recent, it is not easy always to get such correct

information as may sustain a contradiction of popular report.

In a country of such limited resources in the way of amusement, it was

not very easy for our zealous friends to cater for us, during the long

days that we had to await the answer from the Caimacan. Riding was out

of the question, and there were no antiquities within reach. Thus were

we cut off from the two great resources of men in our position. But they

played their part of entertainers hospitably and well. They told us long

stories of the courts, and of what was to be seen in actual service in

the camp of the Egyptian viceroy. Above all, they did us good by showing

how thoroughly happy the whole party had been rendered by our coming. We

were only afraid that they might become a little too bumptious on the

strength of it, and be after giving us another job. But they did more

than simply bear us company; they bore us to the cool grove, which I

have said we could descry from the deck of our ship, there to be

introduced to certain worthies, and to make _kef_ in their company.

Nothing to my mind comes up to an _al fresco_ entertainment--in proper

season and country, be it understood; for an English gipsy party is a

very different affair.

Our host conceived it to be a duty incumbent on him to develop, on this

occasion, the full power of the resources of Adalia. We should have been

far better satisfied if he had contented himself with doing things in a

smaller way; but he was bent on magnificence. It was quite treat enough

to lie on the soft turf, with the thick shade above, and to allow the

hours to pass away as they led on evening. But he had been at the

trouble to retain a band of musicians for our sakes. Such a set they

were!--surpassing, in discordant prowess, the worst street musicians

among our beggar melodists. It is quite surprising that invention has so

long slumbered with these native artistes. With Musard concerts and

Wilhelm music-meetings all around them, it is wonderful that they do not

catch the note of something better than their villanous mandolins and

single-noted pipes. Does any one need to be told what a mandolin is? It

is something very different, let me assure him, from the ideal

instrument of Moore's Melodies. Not even the lovely maidens that Moore

paints could render tolerable a performance upon it; whereas it is made

to resound by some especially ugly fellow, whose rascality of

appearance, is relieved by no touch of the poetic. I did once hear a

Turco-Greek lady perform, and on a more civilised instrument--a lady of

high reputation as a performer on the guitar and a vocalist. And seldom

has the spirit of romantic preparation received a more sudden chill than

did mine on that occasion. Nothing could be more outrageously absurd

than the whole thing was--accompaniment and song. I never afterwards was

solicitous to hear an Oriental's musical performance; and am quite

satisfied, that in them dwells no musical faculty, creative or

perceptive: or that at least it is in a dormant state.

These musicians began with a symphony on the full band--mandolins

leading, drums doing bass, and the whole lot of ugly fellows screeching

forth what might have been esteemed air or accompaniment, as the case

might be. That a sorry musical effect was produced will surprise no one

who considers the build of the most musical of their instruments. The

mandolin is by way of being a guitar, or banjo--only in a very small way

indeed. Nothing has been added to the idea since first Mercury stumbled

on the original _testudo_--indeed, I should guess that the dried sinews

of a tortoise would give out a far purer sound than the jingling wires

with which the mandolin is mounted. I have sometimes stood at the door

of a _cafe_, or, to give it the real name [Greek: kapheneion], and

listened in wonder to the strains of some minstrel holding forth within.

The wonder was, not that the man should play egregiously ill, but that

the effect of good music should be produced by his evil playing. The

people were evidently excited to sorrow when the attempt was at a

mournful strain, and to ardour when the lilt took a loftier flight. To

me who stood by, the difference of intention on the part of the

performer was hardly discernible; indeed to be recognised only by the

occasional catching of some familiar word in the burden of the song. The

same observation may apply to the current Greek poetry. There can be no

mistake in the conclusion, that it produces the effect of real poetry on

the people, urging them in the direction whither works the imagination

of the poet. But men of taste have come to, and can come to, but one

decision on the judgment of Romaic poetasters. The spirit of poetry has

died out of, and is become extinct from the genius of their tongue. It

is but the enthusiasm of by-gone days, the inkling of Attic glory, that

lingers about the circumstances of their modern productions, and cheats

men with the mere similarity of idiom. Poetry is of universal

application, and were the pretensions of the modern Greek genuine, his

productions would touch the hearts of the poetic of other lands.

These fellows who entertained us on this occasion, struck a good deal of

enthusiasm out of their jingle,--enthusiasm to themselves, be it

remarked, and not to us. I saw them grow sad in face, while the strain

proceeded at a slow pace, and the _voce di canto_ degenerated into a

more lugubrious howl than ever. By these tokens, I judged them to be

singing some tale of sorrow, and so it seemed they were. The gentleman

who performed for us the part of Chorus, gave us to wit, that they were

lamenting the fall of Algiers, and imprecating maledictions on the head

of the French. This they evidently considered a delicate and appropriate

attention to us as Englishmen. I was only surprised to find they entered

so far into the family distinctions of the Franks. There was some heart,

too, in the manner in which they gesticulated and declaimed; and I have

little doubt but that they were in earnest--especially if any of these

happened to have friends or relations down that way, who had been roused

out of house and home by the Gallic Avatar. When they were tired with

singing, or perhaps presumed that they had therewith tired us, they took

to playing the fool. Not merely in a general sense, in which they may be

said to have been so engaged all along; but with heavy effort, and under

the express direction of a professional master of the ceremonies. The

Adalian jester was a tall ugly fellow, who had considerable power of

comic expression in his face, but whose forte lay in a cap of fantastic

device. It was made of the skin of some animal, whose genus I will not

venture to guess; and had been contrived in such fashion that the tail

hung over the top, and whisked about at the caprice of the wearer. This

was a never-failing source of amusement to the performer himself, as

well as to the native bystanders. As he bobbed his head up and down, and

ran after this tail, the people burst into peals of laughter. They were

quite taken up with the exhibition, except when they stole a moment now

and then for a peep to see how the Frank visitors were amused with their

wit. Besides this, the jester had a number of practical jokes, such as

coming quietly along-side of some unsuspecting person, and catching hold

of his leg, barking loudly the while, so as to make him think that some

dog had bitten him. But this part of the performance was decidedly

coarse, and did not improve our idea of the civilisation of the place. A

good deal of sketching was going on in the course of this day; and the

visages of some of these musicians, and especially of the jester, and of

a blind old choragus, have been handed down to the posterity of our

affectionate friends. We had a visit this day of a gentler kind. A Greek

lady, the owner of considerable landed property in the place, came with

her youthful daughter to interchange civilities with us. She was a

plain, almost ugly old woman; but, like nine out of ten of all women

extant, was of kind and _feminine_ disposition. Moreover, like the rest

of the ladies, she was very fond of talking; but, on this particular

occasion, unhappily could speak no single word that would convey meaning

to us. Still it was not to be expected that she could hold her tongue;

so she squatted down by us, and talked, perhaps all the faster because

she had the conversation all to herself. Her daughter was a young lady,

whom by appearance in England, you would call somewhere in her teens;

but, hereaway they are so precocious that one is constantly deceived in

guessing their age. She would have been pretty if she had been clean;

and was abundantly and expensively ornamented. Sometimes we hear it

figuratively said of a domestic coquette, that she carries all her

property on her back. These Greeks must be well off, if it may not

sometimes be so said with propriety of them. They have a plan of

advertising a young lady's assets, in a manner that must be most

satisfactory to fortune-hunters, and prevent the mistakes that with us

constantly foil the best-laid plans. They turn a girl's fortune into

money, and hang it--it, the fortune proper--the [Greek: poion] and the

[Greek: poson]--about her neck. They do not buy jewels worth so many

hundreds or tens--but transpierce the actual coin, and of them compose a

necklace of whose value there can be no doubt, and whose fashion is not

very variable. This may be called a fair and above-board way of doing

things. The swain, as he sits by the beloved object, may amuse himself

by counting the number of precious links in the chain that is drawing

him into matrimony, and debate within himself, on sure data, the

question whether or no he shall yield to the gentle influence. There

would not have been much doubt about the monetary recommendations of

this young lady, for she was abundantly gilt, as became the daughter of

one reputed so rich as the old lady. Poor girls! It makes one sad to

look upon them, brought up with so little idea of what is girlish and

beautiful; to see them ignorant yet sophisticated, bejeweled and

unwashed. This poor child was decked out in the most absurd manner, and

sat for admiration most palpably. She also sat for something else, which

was her picture. This was taken by several of the party, so much to the

satisfaction of mother and daughter, that the old lady insisted on

taking her turn as model. We invariably found them pleased with the

productions of our art in these cases, and satisfied of the correctness

of the likeness. The only objections they would occasionally make, would

refer to the pretermission of some such thing as a tassel in the cap.

The fidelity of the likeness they took implicitly on trust.

I have said we could not talk to this old lady, Greek though she was,

furnished though some of us were with the language of her compatriots.

The deficiency was on her part--not on ours. She could not speak one

single word of her own language. And so it is, that of all the Greeks of

Adalia, not one can converse in the language of their fathers. Separated

from their countrymen, they have become almost a distinct race; and,

losing that language of which they have no practice, have learnt to use

as their own the vernacular of the land in which they are immigrants of

such antique standing. They talk Turkish--live almost like Turks; and by

their religion only are distinguished from their neighbours. For

religious purposes they use their own language: and, by consequence,

understand no single word of the ritual or lessons. This is certainly a

singular national position--impossible, except from religious

prevention. It is just the reverse of what may be seen elsewhere: for

instance, in the mountains of Thessaly you find a colony of Germans,

who, though completely shut in by the people of the land, and holding

intercourse with none other, remain foreigners and Germans, resisting

the tendency to amalgamation. So in Sicily you find the _Piana della

Grecia_, where the original Greek colonists have kept their language and

customs in their integrity. But where else, save in this one spot, will

you find people who, after having imbibed the influences of the country

to the extent of adoption of its language, have been able to resist

amalgamation with its denizens in every respect?

By the bye, these people have opened a sort of royal road to the

acquisition of the Turkish language. The orthography of this language is

a most vexed and perplexed affair. Those who have made the attempt to

master its difficulties may say something in its vituperation; but the

practice of many of those who are well acquainted therewith, says a

great deal more. These Greeks, for instance, though they have adopted

this language as their own, and have been accustomed in no other to lisp

to their nurses, have altogether discarded the orthography. They speak

as do the natives, but write in their own character; accommodating the

flexible capabilities of their alphabet to the purposes of Turkish

orthoepy. Thus have you the means of reading Turkish in a familiar

character, which also has the advantage of presenting your words in a

definite form. The real Turkish alphabet is any thing but definite; at

least to one within any decent term of years of his commencing the

study. This is a mode of teaching which I have known to be insisted on

by at least one good master: though of course the man of any ambition

would regard this byway to knowledge as merely a step preliminary in the

course.

This was not the only party at which we assisted during our visit. A

rich Greek merchant invited us to enjoy the coolness of evening in his

gardens. It was duly impressed on our minds by the gentleman of the

place that this old fellow was worth his weight in gold. They did say

that his name was good for L150,000--a long figure, certainly, to meet

in such a place. He was a quiet-looking, unpretending person, with very

much the air of a moneyed man. The hope that we had formed of seeing a

display of the youth and fashion of Adalia was disappointed. It was by

all express relaxation of the law of etiquette that we had the

opportunity of seeing even the one or two ladies belonging to the

family. Greeks, in their own country, though exceedingly jealous, and

apt to build up alarms on the slightest foundation, are yet by no means

chary in showing their women. In-doors and out, you will meet them, both

old and young; and perfectly unconstrained and companionable you will

find them. But here the case is far otherwise. They have acquired so

much of Mussulman notions, that they do not allow their women to mix in

society. This is the general rule: more pliant to occasion than the law

of the Turks, which never yields. And not only here is there a strong

feeling on this subject: the same prejudice prevails widely in the

Turco-Greek islands. For instance, in Mytilene, on occasion of taking

that long excursion which I have already mentioned, we observed that all

the women we met were old and ugly. From this observed fact we drew

conclusions unfavourable to the general appearance and presentability of

the Mytilenian ladies. But subsequently we found the reason of the

phenomenon to be, that the young and pretty girls were kept within

doors, and the old ones alone allowed the privilege of walking forth--a

difference of condition that might almost induce the girls of Mytilene

to wish for age and wrinkles.

They did not, at Adalia, use us quite so ill as to withhold their ladies

from the entertainment. The mother was there and a daughter--a young

lady with the romantic name of Dudu. With such a name as this she ought

to have been very pretty, and certainly she did not fall far short of

such condition. It was clearly to be perceived that she was unaccustomed

to mix in general society, and that the company of strange men disturbed

her. But she was not ungraceful either in manner or dress, or in her

evident desire to please. The place of our reception was in the central

court, which the best kind of houses preserve--a contrivance which gives

to each of the four sides on which the building is disposed, the

advantages of a pure and thorough current of air. Here we sat drinking

sherbet, and, of course, smoking the unfailing chibouque. The lady

mother was painfully anxious to talk to us, and pretty Miss Dudu was

seriously bent on listening; but we could not manage to execute a

colloquy. All the civil things imaginable were expressed to us by

gesture, and the young lady came out strong in the presentation of

bouquets. One fortunate man received from her an orange, the only one

remaining at that time in the garden; this we persuaded ourselves must,

in their symbolical language, imply a declaration of some soft interest.

Miss Dudu would not have been such a very bad _parti_, being, as she

was, the sole heritress of her father's thousands. However, she was, we

understood, engaged already to a youth, who was obeying the cruel law

prevalent in this place, which compels the accepted swain to absent

himself from his inamorata for a long probation. I think the time was

said to be a year; during which no communication must pass between the

parties. Should the first overtures of a suitor be rejected, it is a

settled matter of etiquette, that he never again is to see or speak to

the young lady. This must be likely, we would think, to render a man

cautious in proposing: but certainly it must tend to lessen the number

of eventual old maids, by rendering the young ladies also chary of

saying No, when they mean Yes. On the whole, we can scarcely admire

their matrimonial tactics. We found that we were among a family of

Hadjis. Miss Dudu was a Hadji, and so were her father and mother. In

their case the place of pilgrimage is Jerusalem, a visit to which

confers on them the respectable title of Hadji for life. This old

gentleman had made a pious use of some of his money, by promoting the

cause of pilgrimage among his less opulent brethren. The desire to tread

the holy soil is common to them all; not only to the religious. These

have their motives; but so also have the disorderly and wicked, who

think that a world of cheating and ill-living is covered over by the

wholesome cloak of pilgrimage. There are also certain less considerable

places of pilgrimage, invested with considerable sanctity, though

inferior in character to the one great rendezvous of the religious.

Health to body seems often the expected result of visits to these

secondary places, to which recourse will frequently be had when medical

aid has failed to be available. Dudu's father had made himself highly

popular by chartering a vessel, and conveying, for charity's sake, as

many devotees as chose to go on one of these minor expeditions. The

island of Cyprus has a convent of peculiar sanctity, a visit to which is

highly esteemed as an antidote to bodily ills. He gave a great number

the opportunity of testing the truth of the tradition.

It was not bad fun, after all, tarrying a few days in Adalia: only, by

choice, we would hardly choose that particular season for the excursion.

What between the Consul's gardens, and the old Greek, and the little bit

of business we had upon our hands, we managed to get through the time

pleasantly enough. We saw that we had here a good specimen of the

variety of life commonly described as deadly-lively. Were it not that

they have such a lot of strangers constantly passing through the place,

they might seem to be in danger of a moral_anchylosis_--of falling into

a state of mind so rusty, as to be incapable of direction to any object,

save such as lay before them, in the way of immediate physical

requirement. The few days that we remained there did not afford time

enough for the disease to make much head with us. Indeed, for us it was

a variety of experience, sufficiently stirring for the time, to mark the

ways of a people so deeply buried in imperturbability and incuriosity.

I think we were not sorry when at last the messenger returned from the

Caimacan, and we found we were in condition to leave the place. The

Consul was set on his legs again, and the English name in better odour

than ever. The _attaches_ of the consulate had taken care that our visit

should fail in no degree of its wholesome influence, for want of their

good word; and I fancy that the town's people thought themselves rather

well off that we left their town standing. We left, too, with the full

reputation for merciful dealing; as we had spared the poor soap-rioters

the infliction of the bastinado.

And so we sped on our way to Rhodes.

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 61, No. 380, June, 1847 · 第 53 / 61 题