Loquacious Barber—Unthrifty Travellers—Mount Olympus—Early
Rising—Aspect of the Country at Dawn—Peasants and
Travellers—Fine View—Peculiarity of Oriental Cities—Stunted
Minarets—Plains and Precipices—Halting-Place—Difficulty of
Ascending the Mountain—Change of Scenery—Repast in the
Desart—Civil Guide—Appearance of the Mount—Snows and
Sunshine—Fatiguing Pilgrimage—Dense Mists—Intense
Cold—Flitting Landscape—The Chibouk—The Giant’s Grave—The
Roofless Hut—Lake of Appollonia—The Wilderness—Dangerous
Descent—Philosophic Guide—Storm among the Mountains—The
Guide at Fault—Happy Discovery—Tempest.
I remember to have heard an anecdote of a facetious barber, who, while
operating upon the chin of a customer, commenced catechising his victim
on the subject of his foreign travel.
“You are an army gentleman, I believe, Sir; pray were you in Egypt?”
“Yes.” “Really! then perhaps you saw the Pyramids?” “Yes.” “Travelled a
little in Greece, perhaps, Sir?” “A little.” “Pleasant place, Greece,
I’ve been told; Athens, and all that. I dare say you fought in the
Peninsula?” “Once or twice.” “Charming country, Spain, I’ve heard, Sir;
indeed I’ve read Gil Blas, which gives one a very pretty notion of it.
Plenty of oranges in Portugal, Sir?” “Plenty.” “Vastly nice, indeed,
quite a favourite fruit of mine. Did you ever serve in the East or West
Indies, Sir?” “In both.” “Really! why you’re quite a traveller. Of
course, Sir, you’ve seen Paris?” “Never.” “Never seen Paris, Sir!”
exclaimed the man of suds and small-talk: “never visited the French
metropolis! why, dear me, Sir, you have seen nothing!”
In like manner, he who travels to the East—who feasts with Pashas in
Europe, and eats pillauf with Beys in Asia—who peeps into
palaces—glides in his swift caïque along the channel of the
Bosphorus—overruns all Turkey, and half Egypt, and returns home without
smoking a pipe on the summit of Mount Olympus, has, according to the
declaration of the natives, “seen nothing.”
Of course it was out of the question that I should add to the number of
these unthrifty travellers; and accordingly on the morning of the 11th
of June (at least two months too soon), the horses were at the door at
four o’clock; and, shaking off my sleepiness as well as I could, I set
forward, accompanied by a Greek gentleman, with whose charming family we
had formed a friendship, and who was himself well calculated by his
scientific acquirements to enhance the enjoyment of the expedition, our
servant, and a guide, for the dwelling of the Gods.
The morning was yet gray; the mists were hanging in wreaths about the
mountains, and draping them in ermine; the dew was lying heavily on the
dense vegetation; a few straggling peasants passed us on the outskirts
of the sleeping city, some bearing scythes upon their shoulders, affixed
to straight poles about eight feet in length—or carrying round spades
of wood—or driving before them the animals who were to return laden
with mulberry branches for the nurture of the silk-worms which are
reared in millions at Broussa. The number of individuals constantly
employed in providing food for these insects must be very great, as we
have counted upwards of two hundred horses, mules, and donkeys, bearing
closely-packed loads of boughs, passing in one day beneath our windows
from the same gate of the city; and, as the immense plain is covered
with trees, which are each year cut closely down to the trunk, the
consumption may be imagined.
A little beyond the city we passed a mule-litter, closely covered with
scarlet cloth, guided by two men, and followed by three Turkish
gentlemen on horseback, attended by their servants, bound on some
mountain pilgrimage; but we had not proceeded above half a league, ere,
with the exception of a string of mules laden with timber, which
occasionally crossed our path, we had the wilderness to ourselves.
The ascent commences, immediately on leaving the city, which on this
side is bounded by a deep ditch or fosse, into which two mountain
torrents, boiling and bellowing down from the neighbouring heights, pour
their flashing waters. A narrow pathway, so narrow that two
saddle-horses cannot pass in it, traverses a dense wood of dwarf oak and
hazel, clothing the hill-side, above whose stunted summits we looked
down upon the plain, and the minarets of Broussa.
A sudden turn in the road conducted us rapidly upwards, freed us from
the hazel wood, and plunged us among masses of rock, over which our
horses slid and stumbled, until we reached the foot of the next range of
heights. Here the landscape began to grow in beauty; behind us was the
city fenced with mountains, mapped out in all its extent, and as
remarkable as that of Constantinople for the extraordinary and beautiful
admixture of buildings and foliage, which I never remember to have seen
elsewhere.
Every habitation possessing, if not its garden, at least its one tall
tree, beneath whose boughs the family congregate during the warm hours,
the appearance of an Eastern city, as you look down upon it from any
neighbouring height, is entirely devoid of that monotony which renders
the roofs and chimneys of an European town so utterly uninteresting. It
looks as though the houses had grown up gradually in the midst of a
thick grove, and the eye lingers without weariness on the scene, where
the glittering casements, touched by the sunlight, flash through the
clustering leaves, and the wind heaves aside the more flexile branches
to reveal a stately portal, or a graceful kiosk. From the spot on which
we now stood, we saw Broussa to great advantage. The most striking
object was the spacious mosque of Oulou-Jamè piercing through the
morning mists in spectral whiteness—the stunted minarets, looking like
caricatures of those light, slender, fairy-moulded creations which shoot
so loftily into the blue heaven at Stamboul; minarets that have
sacrificed their grace to the south wind, which blows so violently at
Broussa as frequently to unroof the more lofty buildings; and whose
ill-proportioned cupolas of lead complete the pictorial ruin, and give
them the appearance of bulky wax candles, surmounted by metal
extinguishers. A small space beyond ran the gleaming river, sparkling
along its bed of white pebbles—the wilderness of mulberry trees
spreading over the green carpet of the plain—and away, afar off, the
range of mountains purpling in the distance, and crowned with clouds!
Beside us, not half a foot from our horse’s hoof, we had a sheer
precipice clothed with dwarf-oak and spruce, and we heard, although we
could not see, the tumbling waters of a torrent which roared and rushed
along the bottom of the gulph. Beyond the precipice, towered a lordly
mountain, upon whose crest were pillowed dense masses of fleecy vapour;
while stately fir trees draped it with a thousand tints. Before us rose
masses of rock, through which we had to make our way: and from every
crevice sprang a forest tree, whose gnarled and knotted roots were
washed by a rushing stream, which was flung up like spray as our horses
splashed through it. We next reached a patch of soft fresh turf; maple
and ash trees overshadowed it; wild artichokes and violets were strown
in every direction; the rich ruby-coloured arum hung its long dank
leaves over the narrow channel, through which glided a pigmy stream
almost hidden by the rank vegetation; the little yellow hearts’-ease was
dotted over the banks; the ringdoves were cooing amid the leaves; and
the grasshopper, as green and almost as bright as an emerald, was
springing from flower to flower. It is a place of pause for the
traveller, and it deserves to be so. There can scarcely be a lovelier in
the world! One or two fragments of cold grey rock pierced through the
rich grass, as if to enhance its beauty, and afforded a resting-place,
whence we looked round upon the masses of mountain scenery by which we
were surrounded; and few, I should imagine, would fail to profit by this
opportunity of temporary rest, when they contemplated the far extent of
wild and difficult country through which they were to travel.
Let none venture the ascent of Mount Olympus who have not the head and
the hand equally steady; who are incapable not only of standing upon the
“giddy brink,” but also of riding along it when the road is scarcely a
foot in width, and the precipice some hundreds in depth; and where the
only path is a torrent-chafed channel, or a line of rock piled in
ledges, and slippery with water; for assuredly, to all such, _le jeu ne
vaudra pas la chandelle_, as it is impossible to imagine ways less
calculated to calm the nerves, or to re-assure the timid. You urge your
horse up a flat stone, as high and as large as a billiard table, and
splash he descends on the other side up to his girths in mud: now you
ride up a bank to escape collision with a string of timber-laden mules,
and in descending you are stumbling and scrambling among the roots of
trees, which twirl and twist among the vegetation like huge snakes; at
one moment you are almost knocked off your saddle by a forest-bough that
you have not room to avoid, and the next you are up to your knees in a
torrent which he refuses to leap. Assuredly the Gods never wished to
receive company.
As the ascent became more difficult, the whole face of the landscape
changed: lofty firs shot upwards against the clear sky, while rocks
fantastically piled, and looking like the ruins of a lordly city, were
scattered over a plain which we skirted in turning the elbow of the
next range of heights. Here and there, a tree that had been smitten by
the thunder reared aloft its white and leafless branches, while its
shivered trunk looked like a mass of charcoal. Eagles and vultures
soared above our heads; innumerable cuckoos called to each other among
the rocks: at intervals the low growl of a bear was heard in the
distance; and altogether, a more savage scene can scarcely be imagined.
A fine fir-wood succeeded, which terminated in a small plain intersected
by a sparkling trout-stream, whose waters formed a thousand pigmy
cascades as they tumbled over the rocky fragments that choked their
channel. Here we spread our morning meal, cooling our delicate Greek
wine in the waters of Mount Olympus, and seating ourselves upon the
fresh turf which was enamelled with violets and wild hyacinths. At this
spot travellers usually leave their horses, and proceed to the summit of
the mountain on foot; but our good cheer, our soft words, and, above
all, the promise of an increased _backshish_, so won upon our guide,
that he consented to let his horses’ knees and our necks share the same
risk, and to proceed as much further as might be practicable for the
animals.
What a breakfast we made! My intelligent Greek friend already talking of
his mineralogical expectations; I decorating my riding-habit with
lovely wild flowers; the portly Turk paying marked attention to the hard
eggs and _caviare_, and the servant passing to and fro the stream with
glasses of cool wine, sparkling like liquid topaz.
Before us towered the mountain, whose every creek and crevice was heaped
with snow, while one dense mass of vapour hung upon its brow like a
knightly plume. From the summit of the mount the snow had disappeared,
but the white slate-stone of which it is composed gleamed out beneath
the sunshine with a glare that was almost dazzling. The sides of the
rock are clothed with juniper, which, from the continual pressure of the
snow, is dwarfed and stunted, and rather crawls along the earth than
springs from it; and whose berries produce a singular and beautiful
effect on the masses beneath which they are concealed, by giving to them
a pink tinge that has almost the effect of art. Yet, nevertheless, I
could not forbear casting a glance of anxiety at the towering height,
which all its majesty and magnificence failed to dispel. I had been told
that in the month of June it would be impossible for a female to ascend
to the summit—I had already left behind me six long leagues of the
wilderness—two more of perpetual and difficult ascent were before
me—but I remembered my prowess in the Desart of the Chartreux, and I
resolved to persevere.
Our hamper was repacked, our bridles were re-adjusted, and, fording the
little stream, we once more set forward upon our “high emprize;” and
after scrambling through acres of juniper, sliding over ledges of rock,
and riding through nine torrents, we at length found ourselves at the
foot of the almost perpendicular mountain.
It was a magnificent spectacle! The mid-day sun was shining upon the
eternal snows, which, yielding partially and reluctantly to its beams,
were melting into a thousand pigmy streams that glittered and glided
among the juniper bushes; the highest peak of the mount, crowned by its
diadem of vapour, rose proudly against the blue sky; the ragged ridges
of the chain, tempest-riven and bare, hung over the snow-filled gulphs,
into which the grasp of centuries had hurled portions of their own
stupendous mass; and not a sound was audible save the brawling of the
torrents in the lower lands, or the wind sweeping at intervals round the
rocky point.
When I dismounted, and flung my bridle to the guide, I felt as though I
had gained another year of life!
Never shall I forget the fatigue of that ascent!—a weary league over
the gnarled roots of the juniper plants, and loose stones which
treacherously failed beneath our feet, and frequently lost us six steps
for the one that we thought to gain. But at length we stood upon the
edge of the rock; we had clomb the ascent, and were looking down upon
the mountains that we had traversed in the morning;, as though into a
valley; but our task was not yet ended: the loftiest peak, the seat of
Jupiter, yet towered above us, and seemed to mock our efforts. Between
that peak, and the spot on which we stood, there was a deep hollow, to
be descended on our side, and again mounted on the other: the rock was
edged with snow many feet in depth; our feet sank among the loose
stones; the cold was piercing; and to add to our discomfort, the vapours
were rising from the valley beyond the mountain in one dense mass which
resembled the concentrated smoke of a burning world.
The effect was sublimely awful! Fold upon fold—shade darkening over
shade—nothing was to be seen but the cold, gray, clinging vapour which
hung against the mountain, as if to curtain the space beyond. It was
frightful to stand upon the edge of the precipice, and to mark the
working of that mysterious cloud—fancy ran riot in looking on it—its
superhuman extent—its unearthly, impalpable texture—its everchanging
form—its deep, dense tint—my brain reeled with watching its shifting
wonders; and had not my companion withdrawn me from the brink, I should
have sunk down from sheer mental exhaustion.
We had been warned not to linger when on the mountain, and after the
lapse of a few moments we again toiled on. At intervals the vapour
rolled back, and gave us glimpses of hills, and valleys, and woods, and
streams, far below us; but it was like the production of a fairy-wand,
for while we yet looked upon them they were lost: another heavy fold of
mist rose from the chasm, and again all was chaos.
At length the chibouk was lighted. We stood upon the Grave of the Giant;
upon the highest point of Mount Olympus—beside the roofless hut, built
for the shelter of the storm-overtaken traveller, and so ingeniously
sunk beneath the surface as to form a well, in which such a shower of
rain as commonly falls in the neighbourhood of the mountain, would go
nigh to drown the hapless wanderer who might trust to the treacherous
asylum.
Behind us all was vapour: before us stretched away the mountain-chain
across which we had travelled: while far, far in the distance, and
almost blent with the horizon, we distinguished the blue Lake of
Apollonia. While we yet looked, we saw the mists gathering about our own
path; curling up from the swampy patches between the hills; rolling
along the rocky channel of the torrents: draping the broad branches of
the dark firs; clinging to the mountain sides—we had no time to lose.
We were not travellers on a highway; we had neither finger-posts nor
landmarks—all is so nearly alike in the wilderness: one pile of cold
gray rock looms out from amid the mists shaped so like its neighbour;
one rushing torrent brawls over its stony bed so like another: one
stretch of forest darkens the mountain side with a gloom so similar to
that which shadows the opposite height, that we thought it well to avoid
the gathering of the vapours, if we did not wish to sleep in the desart.
To return by the way that we had ascended was out of the question; for
we had walked upwards of a league along the summit of the mountain,
after having gained the height. The other face of the rock presented a
much shorter road, but, as it was extremely dangerous, we held a council
to decide on which we should venture—the fatigue and loss of time, or
the possibility of accident. We were already travel-worn and foot-sore,
but not caring to confess even to each other that it was the exertion
from which we shrank, we both talked very sagely of the danger of delay,
with the mists gathering so rapidly about us; and decided, as a matter
of prudence, on descending the precipice.
I have already mentioned the mountain-ridge that projected over the
gulph, and whose jagged and storm-riven outline bore testimony to the
ravages of time and tempest; while the huge fragments of fallen rock
which heaved up their dark masses from among the accumulated snows
beneath, broke the smooth surface, and betrayed the depth of the
precipice.
This was the point on which we fixed for our descent: my companion, who
was an accomplished sportsman, and accustomed to the dizzy mountains of
the East, led the way; and, as he assured me that nothing but nerve was
required to ensure success, I followed without hesitation. Seating
ourselves, therefore, upon the summit of the mountain, we slid gently
down to a narrow ledge of rock, just sufficiently wide to afford us
footing; and clinging to the stones which jutted out from the natural
wall on the one side, and carefully avoiding to look towards the
precipice on the other, we slowly made our way to a second descent
similar to the first. This hazardous exploit, thrice repeated, carried
us through the most difficult portion of our undertaking, as the rock
then projected sufficiently towards the base to enable us to step from
stone to stone, until we arrived at the edge of the snow.
As we could form no calculation of its depth, we did not venture to
traverse it, which would have shortened the distance very considerably;
but skirting the gulph, where it was not more than mid-way to our knees,
we at length arrived in a patch of swampy land, inundated by the melting
of the mountain snows, and scattered over with rocks, many of them
split asunder, as though they had suffered from the wrath of Vulcan in
one of his stormy moods. Our wet and weary feet next carried us up a
slight ascent, to a stretch of land as brilliant and as sweet as a
flower-garden. Were I to enumerate all the blossoms that I saw growing
wild on this spot, the next page of my book would resemble a
floricultural catalogue; and tired as I was, I could not pass them by
without gathering a bouquet which would have done no disgrace to an
English parterre.
In half an hour more we entered the grassy nook where we had left our
horses; and the recompense of our prowess from the guide when we pointed
out to him the spot whence we had descended was a look of contemptuous
pity, accompanied by the remark that we were “two mad Franks!”
We had scarcely taken a hasty glass of wine, and mounted our horses,
when two loud claps of thunder, following close upon each other, rattled
along the mountain-tops, and enforced on us the necessity of speed. But,
alas! there was no possibility of travelling at more than a foot’s-pace
between Mount Olympus and Broussa; all that we could do, therefore, was
to commence our homeward journey without a moment’s delay, and trust to
our lucky stars, both for finding our way, and for getting home dry. On
we pressed accordingly, “over bank, bush, and scaur;” but in half an
hour we were so completely enveloped in mist that we could not see each
other. The guide still moved steadily on, however, like a man who is
sure of his path; and I felt no misgivings until, on arriving in the dry
bed of a torrent from which the stream had been diverted by some
convulsion of nature, he suddenly ceased the wild monotonous melody with
which he had favoured us for a considerable time, and, turning round in
his saddle, remarked quietly: “We are lost.”
For an instant no one replied. We had each anticipated the probability
of such an occurrence, but it was not the less disagreeable when it came
to pass. What was to be done? First, the guide was convinced that he had
borne too much to the right, and accordingly we all turned our horses in
the other direction; when being close upon a wall of rock that loomed
out from the vapour like some bristling fortress, he admitted that this
could not be the way, and that consequently he must have inclined too
much to the left. We performed a fresh evolution with equal success: the
man was fairly bewildered; and meanwhile the vapour was spreading
thicker and faster about us.
At length my companion suggested the expediency of shouting aloud, that
in the event of any shepherd or goatherd being in the neighbourhood, we
might procure assistance and information. Shout, accordingly, we did, at
the very pitch of our lungs; but the mists were so dense that they
stifled the voice, and we were ourselves conscious that we could not be
heard at any great distance. After the suspense of a long, weary
half-hour, we had just abandoned all hope of help, when a huge dog came
bounding out of the vapour, barking furiously, but to us his voice was
music, as it assured us of the vicinity of some mountaineer; at the same
moment the mists broke partially away, and the guide, uttering an
exclamation of joy, suddenly descended a steep bank, and we found
ourselves on the skirts of the fir wood, and in the mule-track which we
had followed in the morning.
We had scarcely congratulated each other on the termination of our
dilemma, and the partial dispersion of the vapours, when a jagged line
of serpent-like lightning ran shimmering through the broad flash that
lit up for a second the whole wild scene amid which we were moving; and
at the same instant, the loudest and the longest peal broke from the sky
to which I ever listened; rock after rock caught up the sound, and flung
it back, until the wizard thunder rattled in fainter echoes down into
the plain.
It was an awful moment! The terrified animals stood suddenly still, and
trembled with affright; but we had no time to waste upon alarm, for, as
if conjured by that awful crash, and the wild light by which it was
accompanied, down came the imprisoned waters from the mass of vapour
that hung above us. I can scarcely call it rain; it was as though a
sluice had been let loose upon us, and in an instant we were drenched.
Every mountain stream grew suddenly into a torrent—every wayside
fountain, (and there were many in the forest formed of the hollow trunks
of trees,) overflowed its basin—the branches against which we brushed
in our passage, scattered the huge drops from their leaves—large stones
fell rattling down the sides of the mountain—in short it was as wild a
storm as ever inspired the pencil of Salvator Rosa; and its solemnity
was deepened by the twilight gloom of the clinging and changeful
vapours.
We arrived at Broussa both wet and weary, having been thirteen hours on
the road; but, despite all that I suffered, I would not have lost the
sublime spectacle on which I gazed from the summit of Mount Olympus, for
the enjoyment of a month of luxurious ease. Well might Howitt exclaim,
in the gushing out of his pious and poetical nature:—
“Praise be to GOD for the mountains!”