violence all the strongholds in that country, and fixed his eye on
Parga as a most desirable object. The compassionate citizens had
opened their gates to the fugitive Suliotes and other oppressed
people, driven from their native towns; and this unpardonable offence
had added to the malignant hostility of Ali, and for twenty years he
used every stratagem of force or fraud to obtain possession of the
place, without effect; till at length the protection afforded to it by
England, was the means of gratifying all his evil passions. When the
Ionian Islands fell under the dominion of France, the Parghiotes put
themselves under its protection, against the power of Ali, and received
a French garrison in their town; but when the islands were ceded to the
English, the garrison capitulated, and the inhabitants gladly committed
themselves to the care of that free and enlightened state, which they
had always looked up to with honour and respect, and they were received
as an independent ally of the new Ionian republic. The rage of Ali,
when he saw his prey thus snatched from him, was ferocious, and vented
itself in a bloody sacrifice of other victims. For three years this
connection continued, with mutual good-will; and they felt the security
of a perfect confidence. The crisis, however, of their fate was at hand.
The Turkish government demanded the town of Parga, as part of their
territory, and a secret negotiation was entered into with the English
to surrender it. When this transpired, the place was filled with
consternation and despair. The people rushed into the streets; they
declared, and truly, that deserting them, was only sacrificing them to
their bitter persecutors, who had sworn to exterminate them, and they
would not survive it, but first destroy their wives and children, and
finally themselves and their town. When no entreaty could prevail on
them to remain behind the English garrison, they were offered an asylum
in the island of Corfu, and a compensation for the property they left
behind. To these terms they were compelled to accede, and the Glasgow
frigate was sent to protect and convey them. The English found them in
their church, disinterring the bodies of their ancestors, and burning
their bones, that thus they might not be left to the sacrilegious
insults of their enemies. The whole population then descended
mournfully down the steep, some bearing the ashes of the dead, some
grasping portions of the soil of a place so dear to them, and some the
sacred image by whose direction they had chosen it. When arrived on
the shore, they all kneeled down with one spontaneous impulse, kissed
fervently the sand, and so took a last and sad farewell. Before they
went out of the bay, the ferocious Albanians of Ali, who were waiting
like famished tigers, rushed into the town. They found nothing that had
life, all was still and motionless except the columns of smoke that was
still eddying up from the ashes of the dead.
The desponding remains of this interesting people, after continuing
for a short time in the Ionian Islands in poverty and distress, soon
dispersed; the broken community was absorbed in other populations, and
the name forgotten; and the traveller who sails to Corfu, looks up as
he passes this lovely bay, and sees the remains of this aërial city,
lately the residence of the free, industrious, and native Christian
community, now the den of some of the most ferocious and savage hordes
of Turks in the Ottoman empire.
[Illustration: W. L. Leitch. C. Bentley.
CASTLE AND VALLEY OF SULI, THE ANCIENT ACHERON.
ALBANIA.]
Where the dark Acheron, now called the Kalamas, rolls its gloomy
tide, among the recesses of chasms so deep and shadowy, that the
wild imaginations of the Greek poets called it a river of hell−-and
the district through which it ran, the entrance to the infernal
regions−-stood the city of Suli, as distinguished as Parga by the
bloody enmity of Ali Pasha.
In this country, for ages unsettled by any regular government, and
disturbed by the constant warfare of petty beys and pashas, security of
site was the strongest recommendation for erecting a town. A traveller
winding his way through the chasms and ravines of these dark mountains,
emerges unexpectedly on the summit upon a broad and fair platform.
Here, 2000 feet above the bed of the Acheron, the tribe of Suli built
their cities, and in this elevated rocky fastness fixed their chief
abode, which they called Kako-Suli, from the exceeding difficulty of
climbing up to it. On this lofty table-land were four populous towns,
and they held sixty-six tributary villages, built on every available
spot among the ravines and precipices below. The character of these
mountaineers, and their peculiar habits, long distinguished them among
their neighbours. Their fierce and unsubdued courage, their endurance
of fatigue and privation, their skill in warlike weapons, caused them
to be looked up to with great respect. Wherever they appeared, they
were recognized by characters which marked them. Their skin was of a
dark bronze colour; constantly exposed to sun and wind, and unprovided
with the shelter of tents in their expeditions, the surface of the
exposed parts attained the colour and consistency of tanned leather,
and almost an equal insensibility. Their dress was a long white capote,
strongly contrasted with the colour of their skin. They wore on their
head a small cap called a fez, resembling an inverted saucer, scarcely
covering the top of the crown, from under which a long lock of hair
streamed in the wind. Their arms were the tophek or musket without a
bayonet, and in their girdle not a straight yatagan, but a crooked
sabre. Thus distinguished was
. . . . . “The dark Suliote,
In his snowy camese, and his shaggy capote;
To the wolf and the vulture he leaves his wild flock,
And descends to the plain like a stream from the rock.”
The little state enrolled on their cloud-capped mountains 2500 palikars
of this description, who were objects of fear and respect to all other
Albanians when seen below. These were the men, who, under the valiant
Scanderbeg, opposed the first inroads of the Turks into the country;
and in later times, under the gallant Lambro, attempted to liberate
Greece from their yoke.
The usages and opinions of the women all tended to cherish this warlike
character. The fountain, as in the days of Homer, was the place where
they congregated, and displayed their traits of national character.
Scrupulous respect was here paid to precedence. The wife of the bravest
man had the first right to fill her urnlike pitcher with water, and
then in succession the rest, according to the reputation of their
husbands in war. When families quarrelled, no man had permission to
interfere, lest by chance he might kill a woman, an act looked upon
with horror, and expiated by his own death. On various occasions they
formed themselves into military bodies, armed themselves with their
husbands’ weapons, rushed into the melée, and turned the doubtful scale
of victory.
As long as this bold and independent christian republic occupied
their mountain cities, they opposed a formidable obstacle to the
insatiable ambition of Ali Pasha; it was, therefore, one of the first
of the neighbouring states which he determined to destroy. He made his
attempt so early as the year 1792, and its perfidy was the model of
all his future proceedings. He invited the Suliotes to a conference on
affairs of mutual interest. They descended from their mountain, and,
having arrived at the appointed plain below, they laid aside their
arms, and engaged in athletic sports and military games, as was usual
with them on such friendly occasions. The Pasha, like a tiger from
its lair, rushed upon them in this defenceless state, and murdered or
captured every man present but three−-one of whom escaped, passed up
the mountain, and apprised the republic of the treachery. Among the
prisoners was the hero Tzavalles, the great leader of the Suliotes.
With this man in his power, he endeavoured again to treat with the
people. He sent him up the steep, leaving his son behind as a hostage.
When arrived at Suli, he exhorted the people to a strenuous defence.
He returned a letter to Ali, written in the stern spirit of antiquity:
“You think,” said he, “I am a cruel father to sacrifice my child;
but if you had succeeded, all my family would have been exterminated
without mercy, and no one left to avenge them. My wife is young, and I
may have many more children to defend their country; if my boy is not
willing to be now sacrificed for it, he is not fit to live, but to die
as an unworthy son of Greece.” The enraged Pasha gave orders to ascend,
and carry the mountain. While engaged in front, a band of women, headed
by the mother of the boy, attacked the Turks in the rear. They were
driven down with great slaughter, and Ali himself narrowly escaped.
Though thus defeated, he never abandoned his intention; for a series of
years he renewed his attempts both openly and secretly, till at length,
having become sovereign of the whole country of Albania, he united
the whole of its forces for a final attack on this stubborn rock.
More than 40,000 men were leagued round it below, while the defenders
above, reduced by various combats, did not amount to 2000. Unsubdued by
force, but reduced by famine, they at length agreed to abandon their
strong-hold. A safeguard was guaranteed to them, to migrate where
they pleased; and the remnant left alive, divided themselves into two
bodies, which took different routes through the mountain. They were
both attacked and massacred without mercy. The women rushed with their
children to the edge of a precipice, where they cast themselves down,
and were dashed to pieces, rather than fall into the hands of their
loathed conquerors. A few men escaped into a fortress in which was
a depôt of ammunition. They were headed by an ecclesiastic, who had
distinguished himself by his devoted attachment to the religion and
liberty of his country. He here
declared that all resistance was hopeless, and invited the Turks to
take possession of this last defence. They eagerly entered, and filled
the castle, when the priest applied a match to the powder, and the
whole were blown into the air. Among the records of these events,
recalling the memory of this brave but exterminated people, is a song
by one of the survivors, distinguished by the simplicity but poetic
spirit of the original language. The last verse thus comments on the
catastrophe
“Now Suli lies low and forlorn−-Avaric and Kiaffa renowned,
And Kunghi’s high ramparts are torn, its fragments are scattered around:
But the gallant Caloyer was there, and he laughed as he lighted the train;
Yes, he laughed as he soared in the air, to escape the base conqueror’s chain.”
Ali having at length effected this almost hopeless conquest over this
free republic, obtained from the Porte the dignified appellation of
Aslem or “the lion,” and to commemorate his achievement, he built a
splendid seraï on the summit of the mountain, amidst the ruins of the
town, which is seen in our illustration peeping over the edge of the
precipice. Meanwhile the few survivors of this brave people who had
escaped the massacre, fled to Parga and other Christian towns, which
afforded them an asylum. They were afterwards enrolled in various
corps, and assisted in the liberation of Greece. One of them formed the
body-guard of Lord Byron, and were among the mourners that stood round
his grave at Missolonghi. But they have now no “local habitation,” and
even their name has nearly perished.
[Illustration: T. Allom. H. Adlard.
SCUTARI AND THE MAIDEN TOWER,
ON THE BOSPHORUS.]
The promontory of Scutari, given in our illustration, was distinguished
by the ancient Greeks under the name of ακρον βοος, or “cape of the
ox,” because it was supposed to be that to which Iö swam, when, under
the shape of that animal, she fled from the persecutions of Juno, and
gave the name of Bosphorus to the whole streight. Under the Greeks of
the Lower Empire it was named μεγα μετωπον, or “the great forehead,”
from its bold projection into the sea. It is strikingly picturesque.
Just below it is the turbulent estuary, formed by the rushing waters
of the streight, opposed by those of the Sea of Marmora, where, in the
calmest day, they wheel and boil among the rocks with a turbulence
and agitation quite extraordinary in the still and placid surface of
the water around them. Rising from hence, the promontory displays a
succession of picturesque objects, clothing its surface−-kiosks, and
grottos, and thickets, and hanging gardens−-till they ascend to the
summit, crowned with the dome and minarets of a mosque, and the noble
barracks of Scutari.
This place was distinguished as the scene of blood, in the terrible
commotions that preceded the final suppression of the Janissaries.
A body of those fierce and mutinous soldiers passed the Bosphorus,
and made an attack on the Barrack of Scutari, hoping to convert the
extensive edifice into a fortress, to overawe the opposite city from
this eminence. They were repulsed, however, after much carnage, by
the cannon of the topgees, and dispersed in two bodies: one took the
route along the coast to Moudania; another proceeded in the opposite
direction, up the Bosphorus, which they recrossed, and established
themselves among the woods of Belgrade, where they became a desperate
banditti, and carried their depredations to the walls of the capital.
It was found impossible to dislodge them in the ordinary way from
the dense forest, and the whole was set on fire. The vast surface
of timber blazed up, so as to illumine the dark waters of the Black
Sea with its glare; and the banditti, driven from its recesses, were
shot without mercy, with boars, wolves, and other beasts of prey, as
they issued from the burning cover. When the fire subsided, the whole
district exhibited a melancholy spectacle of Turkish destruction−-vast
forest-trees prostrate and half consumed, lying among the scorched
bodies of men and various animals.
[Illustration: T. Allom. W. Topham.
GOVERNOR’S HOUSE, PHILADELPHIA.
ASIA MINOR.]
Philadelphia is one of the churches of the Apocalypse, which retains
some traces of its former prosperity. The seraï, or palace of the
muzzelim, as the governors of the towns in Asia Minor are named, is
a spacious and sumptuous edifice, and the interior is decorated with
those displays of Turkish magnificence that befits the magistrate who
presides over a large and populous town. When a Frank traveller passes
through an Oriental city, it is not sufficient in general to show his
firman by his janissary, but the muzzelim expects to be personally
waited on, and, after he has treated his guest with the usual
refreshments of coffee and a chiboque, he inquires his business. It
is impossible to make a Turk comprehend the usual objects of European
travelling in the East, no more than to communicate to him the feeling
of a sixth sense. He cannot conceive why a man should break in upon
the sleepy repose of a dozing life, and fatigue himself by climbing
mountains and exploring caverns, which can yield him no profit. The
only motive of which he can have any distinct comprehension is that
which leads a man to explore ruins; for every Turk is impressed with a
notion that the ancients abounded in wealth, and that in the edifices
they left behind them, a man could find an urn of gold under every
stone, if he knew how to search for it, and this knowledge he believes
the superior intelligence of every Frank imparts to him. The janissary,
therefore, who attends a traveller, though perfectly indifferent in
other places, is always on the alert among ruins. He watches him
eagerly when he is trying to read an inscription, certain that it
points out a concealed treasure which the traveller will immediately
discover.
Our illustration represents a scene of this kind. The ingenious artist
has depicted himself sitting on the divan of Chem Bey, the muzzelim of
Philadelphia, to whom he is exhibiting his sketches. In these latter
times even Turks have made some advances in knowledge, and the present
muzzelim took an interest in such things, which former travellers could
not excite in one of the old school.
[Illustration: T. Allom. S. Fisher.
THE GYGEAN LAKE, AND PLACE OF A THOUSAND TOMBS.
ASIA MINOR.]
The name of Gyges is distinguished in the ancient history of this
region. Candaules, king of Lydia, had wedded a most beautiful wife;
but not content, says the historian, with the private enjoyment of her
charms, he was anxious that others should witness his felicity, so he
exposed her to his friends. Among the rest, Gyges was admitted to this
happiness, and the consequence was such as might be expected from his
folly. Gyges became enamoured of the wife of his imprudent friend; and
the lady, indignant at the treatment she received, encouraged him. By
means of a ring which rendered him invisible, he gained access to the
secret chambers of the palace, slew Candaules, married his queen, and
succeeded to the kingdom of Lydia.
About five miles from Sardis, the capital of Lydia, is the Gygea,
a large lake so called probably from the memorable king. It stands
not far from the Hermus, and was supposed to be an artificial
excavation, formed to draw off the waters of the river, and to avert
the consequence of its inundations. In the course of ages it has
assumed the character of a magnificent solitary lake, of nature’s own
formation, though in several places mounds and ramparts are still
discernible, and seem rather thrown up to prevent the overflowing of
the lake, than as part of its original construction. The lake, as it
now exists, is of considerable extent; the rich mould on its banks,
of a muddy consistence, exuberant in reeds, and abundance of such
aquatic and palustric plants as love such a soil. The water, in colour
and transparency, resembles that of a common pond, and seems alive
with fish. Another circumstance marks it−-flocks of swans and cygnets
hover above the surface, and flights of various aquatic birds darken
the air. Among them myriads of gnats buzz about, and, like those of
Myus are the terror and torment of those who approach the lake. But
the circumstance which renders this place so interesting is, that the
shores of this solitary sheet of water, were selected by the ancient
kings of Lydia, as an appropriate spot for their last resting-place. It
is a vast cemetery, in which the regal remains were deposited, and the
multitude of monuments that still exist, has acquired for it the name
of “the Place of a Thousand Tombs.” The general appearance of these
tombs is that of large grass-grown tumuli: swelling from the surface
are verdant hillocks of a conical form, of various sizes, and somewhat
resembling the larger ones seen on the plains of Troy and Roumelia. But
there is one among them of distinguished form, and remarkable for many
circumstances connected with it. It is that of Alyattes, the father
of Crœsus. The means by which it was erected display a sad picture of
the depravity of Lydian manners, and forms a sequel to the story of
Gyges. The number and wealth of the girls of bad fame in Sardis were
so great, that they raised, at their own expense, assisted by some of
the lower classes, this magnificent tomb of their king, and monument
of their own infamy. The remains of it at the present day, exactly
correspond with the description of Herodotus, who saw and described it
nearly five hundred years before the Christian era. The base of masonry
still traceable, extends for six stadia or three-quarters of a mile.
The superstructure on this is a truncated cone, now covered, like the
rest, with grass very rich and verdant. On ascending the summit, a
singular and characteristic view presents itself. Round its base are
the smaller monuments, extending in various directions. From thence the
still and placid surface of the lake spreads itself, penetrating into
many solitary recesses, as if avoiding human research, and in perfect
keeping with a place intended for the repose of the dead. What adds to
the deep interest excited by this venerable relic of antiquity, is,
that its origin and history is of undoubted authority. The traveller
who visits it sees a monument as vast and ancient as a pyramid of
Egypt, but whose history is much more certain and authentic.
Our illustration presents the perfect character of this place:
the solitary stillness of the lake−-the luxuriance of its aquatic
vegetation−-the vast flocks of its feathered inhabitants−-its conical
tombs appearing over the neighbouring elevations, and marking the
cemetery in which the remote kings of Lydia slumber in solitary
magnificence.
[Illustration: GARDENS OF THE SERAGLIO.
CONSTANTINOPLE.]
An error has long and universally prevailed in western Europe, as to
the degree of liberty which Turkish ladies enjoy, and their supposed
subjection to their husbands has excited the pity of Christian wives;
but, if freedom alone constitute happiness, then are not only the wives
and the odaliques, but the female slaves in Turkey, the happiest of the
human race. They visit and are visited without exciting jealousy, or
being subjected to resentment; the most gorgeous apartments, the most
beautiful pleasure grounds of every palace, are devoted solely to their
use; and the gardens of the seraglio at Constantinople, with their
orange groves, rose beds, geraniums, and marble fountains, afford an
admirable illustration of some scene of enchantment in an Arabian tale.
[Illustration: THE MEDITERRANEAN
AND TURKISH EMPIRE]
FINIS.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The towns are designated in the following hexameter:
“Smyrna, Rhodos, Colophon, Salamis, Chios, Argos, Athenæ.”
[2] Cette _porte_ dont l’empire Ottomane a pris nom.--TOURN.
[3] Some say it was to Magnesia on the Meander.
[4] Magnesia ad Sipylum, a qua magnes lapis, ferum attractens, nomen
sortitus est.
[5] The names were as follow: Proté, because it is the first met in
sailing from, Constantinople−-Chalki, from its copper mines−-Prinkipo,
the residence of a princess−-Antigone, so called by Demetrius
Polyorcetes in memory of his father Antigonus−-Oxy, from its sharp
precipices−-Platy from its flatness−-Pitya, from its pines, &c.
[6] The gum-resin, yielded by these plants, is sometimes collected by
combing the beards of the goals, which browse among them, when they
return home at night; and sometimes a leather thong is drawn across
them, and that which adheres scraped off. The boots of those who walk
through the shrubs are often incrusted with this gum.
[7] Jerem. vii. 7.
[8] Psalm civ. 17.
[9] There is another bridge of considerable extent called Buyuk
Tchekmadgé, thrown across an arm of the sea some miles from the capital.
[10] Rev. iii. 15.
[11] Ep. to Colos. iv. 16.
GENERAL INDEX.
The NUMERAL letters indicate the volume; the FIGURES the page.
A
Abdul Hamed Khan, Historical Sketch, vol. i. page xxv
Achmet I. his reign and policy, i. xx
Achmet II. events of his reign, i. xxii
Achmet III. events of his reign, i. xxxiii;
ii. recovers Morea from the Venetians, 6
Acroceraunian, ii. 83
Acropolis at Sardis, i. 66, 68; ii. 5, 7
Adrianople, ii. 40, 44, 74
Aiasaluk, i. 64, 65
Ain Ali Kasa Seraï, or Palace of Mirrors, ii. 61
Ak Hissar, or the White Castle, ii. 42
Alexius, i. viii, ix; ii. 5
Ali Pasha, ii. 7, 78;
death of, ii. 84
Alyattes, tomb of, ii. 94
Arda, ii. 74
Argyro-Castro, ii. 81
Ambassador, first resident, English, at Constantinople, i. xx;
foreign, imprisoned in Seven Towers, 22
Amurath forms the corps of Janissaries, i. xiii
Amurath III. his reign i. xx
Amurath IV. his reign and character, i. xxi
Ansar, tomb of, ii. 33
Antiochus, defeated at Magnesia, ii. 41
Andronicus Comnenus, i. xxiii;
Palæologus, xxxiii; ii. 10, 29
Apollonius of Tyana, i. 15; ii. 31
Aqueduct of Valens, i. 6; ii. 61
Argonautic expedition, i. i
Arrhuba, description of, i. 32, 33
Asmé Sultana, ii. 34, 83
Athos, monks of, ii. 16
Atmeidan, or Hippodrome, fountain of, i. 44; ii. 6
Aurut Bazaar, female slave-market, i. 37; ii. 57
Aya Demetri, ii. 44
Ayasmata, or Holy Wells, ii. 51
Ayans, proprietors of soil, ii. ib.
Ayos Theodoros, saint of the Greek church, ii. 31, 32
B
Babu Hummayoun, Sublime Porte, entrance to Seraglio, i. 26;
ii. 6, 38
Babec, i. 61, 62