The fortress of Mankoop, in the Crimea, is of a very extraordinary
magnitude, and may be described as being literally stationed on the
clouds. It covers the summit of a semicircular insulated mountain,
which, from its frightful aspect, its altitude, and craggy perpendicular
sides, independently of every other consideration than as a surprising
work of nature, fills the mind with wonder on entering the defile. In
this singular situation, where there are no visible means of ascent
toward the hight, and still less of conveying the necessary materials
for the completion of so astonishing a work, the Genoese constructed
this citadel, perhaps without a parallel in Europe, the result of their
wealth, address and enterprise. Being at a remote distance from the
coast, it is natural to conjecture that it was employed to curb the
hostile spirit of the natives toward the maritime colonial possessions.
The latest possessors of this fortress were Jews, in the cemetery of
whose colony the traveler meets with ruined tombs of marble and stone,
lying beneath the trees he has to pass in his ascent.
The whole of the passage up the mountain is steep and difficult; nor is
it rendered more practicable by the amazing labors of its original
possessors, whose dilapidated works occur almost at every step. On
reaching the summit, caverns and gloomy galleries, perforated in the
rock, present on every side their dark mouths. On the most elevated part
of this extraordinary eminence, is a beautiful plain, covered with fine
turf: it is partly fenced in by the moldering wall of the fortress, but
otherwise open to the surrounding precipices. From this spot the
adjacent mountains, valleys, hills, woods and villages, may be
discerned. “While,” observes the traveler by whom these details are
supplied, “with dismay and caution we crept on our hands and knees to
look over the brink of these fearful hights, a half-clad Tartar, wild as
the winds of the north, mounted without a saddle, and without any other
bridle except the twisted stem of a wild vine, on a colt equally
unsubdued, galloped to the very edge of the precipice, where, as his
horse stood prancing on the borders of eternity, he amused himself with
pointing out to us the different places in the vast district which the
eye commanded. We entered one of the excavated chambers, a small square
apartment, which led to another on our right hand; and, on our left, a
narrow passage conducted us to an open balcony, with a parapet in front,
formed of the rock, on the very face of one of the principal precipices,
whence the depth below might be contemplated with less danger. The
vultures which hovered over the valleys did not appear larger than
swallows; and the tops of the hills, covered by tufted woods, with the
villages scattered amid the rocks and defiles, appeared at so
intimidating a depth, that the blood chilled at the view. At length,
being conducted to the north-eastern point of the crescent, that being
the shape of the summit on which the fortress of Mankoop was built, and
descending a few stone steps, neatly hewn out in the rock, we entered by
a square door the cavern, called by the Tartars, the Cape of the Winds.
It has been chiseled, like the rest, out of the solid stone; but is open
on four sides. From the amazing prospect here commanded of all the
surrounding country, it probably served as a post of military
observation. The apertures, or windows, are large arched chasms in the
rock: through these, a most extensive range of scenery over the distant
mountains and rolling clouds, forms a sublime spectacle. There is
nothing in any part of Europe to surpass the tremendous grandeur of the
place. Beneath the cavern is another chamber leading to the several
cells on its different sides: these have all been cut out of the same
rock.”
The party, in descending, pursued a route, which, if they had taken in
their ascent, would, our traveler observes, have afforded them a view of
the sublimest scenery imaginable. They now passed beneath an old arched
gateway of the citadel, once its principal entrance. This road flanks
the northern side of the mountain; and the fall into the valley is so
bold and profound, that a single false step would precipitate both horse
and rider headlong to it. By alighting, the danger is avoided; and the
terror of the descent is compensated by the noblest scenery the eye ever
beheld. It was dark before they reached the bottom; and they had some
difficulty to regain the principal road which leads through the defile,
owing principally to the trees which project over all the lanes in the
vicinity of Tartar villages, and so effectually obstruct the passage of
persons on horseback, that they are in continual danger of being thrown.
The defile itself is not without danger in certain seasons of the year,
immense masses of limestone detaching themselves from the rocks above,
and carrying all before them in their descent. Several of these masses,
detached from the northern precipices, had crossed the river at the
bottom, and, by the prodigious velocity acquired in their descent, had
actually rolled nearly half-way up the opposite side.