Visit from King Otho and Miaulis—Visit an English and Russian
frigate—Beauty of the Greek Men—Lake Lerna—The Hermionicus
Sinus—Hydra—Ægina.
NAPOLI DI ROMANIA.—Went ashore with one of the officers, to look for
the fountain of Canathus. Its waters had the property (vide Pausanias)
of renewing the infant purity of the women who bathed in them. Juno used
it once a year. We found but one natural spring in all Napoli. It stands
in a narrow street, filled with tailors, and is adorned with a marble
font bearing a Turkish inscription. Two girls were drawing water in
skins. We drank a little of it, but found nothing peculiar in the taste.
Its virtues are confined probably to the other sex.
* * * * *
The king visited the ship. As his barge left the pier, the vessels of
war in the harbour manned their yards and fired the royal salute. He was
accompanied by young Bozzaris and the prince, his uncle, and dressed in
the same uniform in which he received us at our presentation. As he
stepped on the deck, and was received by Commodore Patterson, I thought
I had never seen a more elegant and well-proportioned man. The frigate
was in her usual admirable order, and the king expressed his surprise
and gratification at every turn. His questions were put with uncommon
judgment for a landsman. We had heard, indeed, on board the English
frigate which brought him from Trieste, that he lost no opportunity of
learning the duties and management of the ship, keeping watch with the
midshipmen, and running from one deck to the other at all hours. After
going thoroughly through all the ship, the commodore presented him to
his family. He seemed very much pleased with the ease and frankness with
which he was received, and seating himself with our fair country-women
in the after-cabin, prolonged his visit to a very unceremonious length,
conversing with the most unreserved gaiety. The yards were manned again,
the salutes fired once more, and the king of Greece tossed his oars for
a moment under the stern, and pulled ashore.
* * * * *
Had the pleasure and honour of showing Miaulis through the ship. The old
man came on board very modestly, without even announcing himself, and as
he addressed one of the officers in Italian, I was struck with his noble
appearance, and offered my services as interpreter. He was dressed in
the Hydriote costume, the full blue trousers gathered at the knee, a
short open jacket, worked with black braid, and a red skull-cap. His
lieutenant dressed in the same costume, a tall, superb-looking Greek,
was his only attendant. He was quite at home on board, comparing the
“United States” continually to the “Hellas,” the American built frigate
which he commanded. Every one on board was struck with the noble
simplicity and dignity of his address. I have seldom seen a man who
impressed me more. He requested me to express his pleasure at his visit,
and his friendly feelings to the commodore, and invited us to his
country-house, which he pointed out from the deck, just without the
city. Every officer in the ship uncovered as he passed. The
gratification at seeing him was universal. He looks worthy to be one of
the “three” that Byron demanded, in his impassioned verse,
“To make a new Thermopylæ.”
* * * * *
Returned visits of ceremony with the commodore, to the English and
Russian vessels of war. The British frigate “Madagascar” is about the
size of the “United States,” but not in nearly so fine a condition. The
superior cleanliness and neatness of arrangement on board our own ship
are indisputable. The cabin of Captain Lyon (who is said to be one of
the best officers in the English service) was furnished in almost
oriental luxury, and what I should esteem more, crowded with the
choicest books. He informed us that of his twenty-four midshipmen, nine
were sons of noblemen, and possessed the best family influence on both
father’s and mother’s side, and several of the remainder had high claims
for preferment. There is small chance there, one would think, for
commoners.
Captain Lyon spoke in the highest terms of his late passenger, King
Otho, both as to disposition and talent. Somewhere in the Ægæan, one of
his Bavarian servants fell overboard, and the boatswain jumped after
him, and sustained him till the boat was lowered to his relief. On his
reaching the deck, the king drew a valuable repeater from his pocket,
and presented it to him in the presence of the crew. He certainly has
caught the “trick of royalty” in its perfection.
The guard presented, the boatswain “piped us over the side,” and we
pulled alongside the Russian. The file of marines drawn up in honour of
the commodore on her quarter deck, looked like so many standing bears.
Features and limbs so brutally coarse I never saw. The officers,
however, were very gentlemanly, and the vessel was in beautiful
condition. In inquiring after the health of the ladies on board our
ship, the captain and his lieutenant rose from their seats and made a
low bow—a degree of chivalrous courtesy very uncommon, I fancy, since
the days of Sir Piercie Shafton. I left his imperial majesty’s ship with
an improved impression of him.
* * * * *
They are a gallant looking people the Greeks. Byron says of them, all
“are beautiful, very much resembling the busts of Alcibiades.” We walked
beyond the walls of the city this evening, on the plain of Argos. The
whole population were out in their Sunday costumes, and no theatrical
ballet was ever more showy than the scene. They are a very affectionate
people, and walk usually hand in hand, or sit upon the rocks at the
road-side, with their arms over each other’s shoulders; and their
picturesque attitudes and lofty gait, combined with the flowing beauty
of their dress, give them all the appearance of heroes on the stage. I
saw literally no handsome women, but the men were magnificent, almost
without exception. Among others, a young man passed us with whose
personal beauty the whole party were struck. As he went by he laid his
hand on his breast and bowed to the ladies, raising his red cap, with
its flowing blue tassel, at the same time with perfect grace. It was a
young man to whom I had been introduced the day previous, a brother of
Mavromichalis, the assassin of Capo d’Istrias. He is about seventeen,
tall and straight as an arrow, and has the eye of a falcon. His family
is one of the first in Greece; and his brother, who was a fellow of
superb beauty, is said to have died in the true heroic style, believing
that he had rid his country of a tyrant.
The view of Napoli and the Palamidi from the plain, with its back ground
of the Spartan mountains, and the blue line of the Argolic gulf between,
is very fine. The home of the Nemean lion, the lofty hill rising above
Argos, was enveloped in a black cloud as the sun set on our walk, the
short twilight of Greece thickened upon us, and the white, swaying
juktanillas of the Greeks striding past, had the effect of spirits
gliding by in the dark.
The king, with his guard of lancers on a hard trot, passed us near the
gate, followed close by the Misses Armansperg, mounted on fine Hungarian
horses. His majesty rides beautifully, and the effect of the short
high-borne flag on the tips of the lances, and the tall Polish caps with
their cord and tassels, is highly picturesque.
* * * * *
Made an excursion with the commodore across the gulf, to Lake Lerna, the
home of the hydra. We saw nothing save the half dozen small marshy
lakes, whose overflow devastated the country, until they were dammed by
Hercules, who is thus poetically said to have killed a many-headed
monster. We visited, near by, “the mills,” which were the scene of one
of the most famous battles of the late struggle. The mill is supplied by
a lovely stream, issuing from beneath a rock, and running a short course
of twenty or thirty rods to the sea. It is difficult to believe that
human blood has ever stained its pure waters.
* * * * *
Left Napoli with the daylight breeze, and are now entering the
Hermionicus Sinus. A more barren land never rose upon the eye. The
ancients considered this part of Greece so near to hell, that they
omitted to put the usual obolon into the hands of those who died here,
to pay their passage across the Styx.
* * * * *
Off the town of Hydra. This is the birthplace of Miaulis, and its
neighbour island, Spesia, that of the sailor heroine, Bobolina. It is a
heap of square stone houses set on the side of a hill, without the
slightest reference to order. I see with the glass, an old Greek smoking
on his balcony, with his feet over the railing, and half a dozen
bare-legged women getting a boat into the water on the beach. The whole
island has a desolate and sterile aspect. Across the strait, directly
opposite the town, lies a lovely green valley, with olive groves and
pastures between, and hundreds of gray cattle feeding in all the peace
of Arcadia. I have seen such pictures so seldom of late, that it is like
a medicine to my sight. “The sea and the sky,” after a while, “lie like
a load on the weary eye.”
* * * * *
In passing two small islands just now, we caught a glimpse between them
of the “John Adams,” sloop-of-war, under full sail in the opposite
direction. Five minutes sooner or later we should have missed her. She
has been cruising in the Archipelago a month or two, waiting the
commodore’s arrival, and has on board despatches and letters, which
makes the meeting a very exciting one to the officers. There is a
general stir of expectation on board, in which my only share is that of
sympathy. She brings her news from Smyrna, to which port, though my
course has been errant enough, you will scarce have thought of directing
a letter for me.
* * * * *
Anchored off the Island of Ægina, a mile from the town. The rocks which
King Æacus (since Judge Æacus of the infernal regions) raised in the
harbour to keep off the pirates, prevent our nearer approach. A
beautiful garden of oranges and figs close to our anchorage, promises to
reconcile us to our position. The little bay is completely shut in by
mountainous islands, and the sun pours down upon us, unabated by the
“wooing Ægæan wind.”
* * * * *
* * * * *