Departure from Orsova—Daybreak—The Mountain-pass—Village of
Plauwischewitza—Austrian Engineers—Literary Popularity—The
Rapids—Sunday in Hungary—Drinkova—Holyday
Groups—Alibec—Voilovitch—Panchova—River-Shoals—Wild
Fowl—Semlin—Fortress of Belgrade—Streets of Semlin—Greek
Church—Castle of Hunyady—Imperial Barge—Agreeable
Escort—Yusuf Pacha—Belgrade—Prince
Milosch—Plague-Preventers—General Milosch—Servian
Ladies—Turk-Town—Ruined Dwellings—The Fortress—Osman
Bey—Gate of the Tower—Fearless Tower—Rapid Decay of the
Fortifications—Sclavonian Garden—Vintage-Feast—Sclavonian
Vintage-Song.
At four o’clock the following morning we left Orsova, lighted by a
perfect galaxy of stars; but shivering from the damp vapours which were
hanging in dense folds about the Danube. The light was just breaking as
we reached the foot of the mountains, and began to ascend a precipitous
road, slightly guarded on the outer edge by a wooden railing; whence we
looked down into rifts and chasms filled with the most profuse foliage;
at whose bottom rippled along the pigmy streams which in the winter
season swell to torrents, and awake the depths of the forest-fastnesses
with their brawling voices.
It is impossible to give the faintest picture of this mountain-pass,
with its bridges of rude timber flung over almost unfathomable
gulfs—its bold, overhanging paths, along which the narrow wheels have
scarcely space to pass—its dense masses of forest foliage, linked
together by the graceful wreaths of the wild vine with its blood red
leaves, and the clinging tendrils of the wild cotton plant with its
snowy tufts of down—its herds of cattle—its flocks of goats—and its
green grassy glades, laughing in the sunshine—its ever-recurring
effects of light and shade—its mysterious silence—and its surpassing
majesty.
As we travelled on, the day-beam grew brighter in the heavens, and the
horizon became one rich canopy of pink and violet. There were moments
when I was breathless with awe as we traversed that leafy solitude. I
never thought of danger; even when the half wild animals that drew us
were galloping at their greatest speed down the mountain-side, with a
shelf of rock walling us up on the one hand, and a deep precipice
yawning over against us on the other. I had not an instant to spare to
the possible peril of our position; I saw only, I felt only, the glory
which surrounded me. I could at that moment fully understand why the
mountaineer clung to liberty as to existence—how he who had once
breathed the pure air of heaven from the rocky brow on which the clouds
of night were wont to rest, and the sunshine of day to sport, must pine
amid the gloom of the valley, and the monotony of the plain. And when we
once more descended to the river’s edge, where all was safe and level, I
only felt regret that I could not call back the mystery and the
magnificence of the rock-seated forests, even although there might be
peril in their paths.
The road into which we passed at the foot of the mountain-chain led us
along fields of Indian corn, to the village of Plauwischewitza; where we
were compelled to remain a couple of hours, in order to rest the horses.
It was nine o’clock when we reached it; and as the little hamlet boasted
no wine-house, at which we could satisfy the keen appetite that we had
acquired by four hours of rapid travelling among the mountains, we were
preparing to breakfast in one of the waggons; when the Chevalier
Peitrich was recognized by an Officer of Austrian Engineers, who
immediately invited us to a very comfortable house that had been built
for himself and his brother-officers, during their superintendence of
the road to which I have already alluded.
We availed ourselves of his politeness most readily, and were received
with the greatest courtesy by the whole party; who showed and explained
to us several beautifully-coloured plans of the Danube, and the
projected roads and canals. In their bookcase I found Bulwer’s “England
and the English,” and Marryat’s “Naval Officer;” both published by
Baudry of Paris. It was like meeting old friends in a strange land, to
turn over the leaves of these well-remembered volumes in an obscure
Hungarian village!
At eleven o’clock we resumed our journey, which lay along the bank of
the river, but at a considerable height above the water. In one or two
places we wound round the base of rocks that jutted into the bed of the
stream, and which were rent and riven in an extraordinary manner; one
mass resting upon another, and so apparently insecure as to appear ready
to loosen their hold with the next blast of wind. By this picturesque
route we passed the rapids called Izlas; a singular ridge of rock
extending nearly across the river, at a spot where the shores are
extremely bold and beautiful; and at three o’clock in the afternoon we
again halted in another small hamlet.
The scene was a very cheerful one, as, owing to its being Sunday, all
the peasants were in their holyday garb; and were clustered at the doors
of their cottages, enjoying the pure air and the genial sunshine. I was
much amused at the method adopted by the Hungarian mothers of nursing
their infants; they carry a small box, in shape not unlike a coffin,
slung over their shoulders, in which the child lies upon a mattress; and
when the little being requires their care, they sit down upon the first
stone, or piece of timber in their path, swing the box to their knees,
and quietly attend to the wants of their nursling; the suspended cradle
is then restored to its original position, and their own occupations are
resumed.
On our arrival at the steam station at Drinkova, which is simply a large
block of building containing apartments for the resident agent and
stores for the housing of merchandize, we learnt that, owing to the long
drought, the water had become so low in the Danube that the vessel could
not descend beyond Alibec, the next station; and consequently, fatigued
as we were with a journey of sixty-five miles in rough carriages over
steep roads, we were compelled to continue our route at all speed; and
in about twenty minutes we reached the pretty and extensive village of
Drinkova, in which we found an Austrian regiment, occupying a commodious
barrack in the principal street. We remained here an hour, in order to
rest the unfortunate horses, which we were obliged to take on, as there
were no means of procuring others; and we started again just as the sun
was setting, and throwing fairy lights upon the mountain crests.
Many a gay group did we encounter as we pursued our way, hurrying home
to the village after a day of recreation among the hills; and we even
passed one party who had lingered so long that the blaze of the fire
that they had kindled in the woods streamed across our path.
At nine o’clock we reached Alibec by the light of a bright young moon,
which just disappeared behind the hills as we were hailed from the
vessel. At daylight the next morning we were under weigh; and about noon
the Francis I. was abreast of the extensive monastery and dependencies
of Voilovitch on the Hungarian side of the river; and shortly afterwards
we passed the town of Panchova, seated on the Temes, which here empties
itself into the Danube. About a mile and a half beyond Panchova, we
entered a shoal, and the steam was almost entirely stopped, while we
glided over the treacherous surface of the stream; the boat scarcely
appeared to make any way; but there was a slight tremulous motion that
seemed as though her heart still beat, while her progress was impeded.
These shoals, which are by no means without danger even by daylight, are
not, however, the only impediment to night-travelling on the Danube—the
violence of the current, particularly after a gale at sea, frequently
carrying away immense masses of the light sandy soil of the islands that
are scattered along the whole line of the river; and with them enormous
trees, which come sweeping down the stream, with their wide branches
spreading on all sides, and choking the passage. We encountered at
least a dozen of these uprooted forest giants during our voyage.
In the course of the afternoon we were off Semendri, an extensive
Turkish fortress, occupying a very commanding position on the Servian
shore, at the junction of the Jesava with the Danube; and defended by
twenty-seven towers, of which twenty-three were square, two round, and
two hexagonal; but extremely exposed on all sides, and apparently not in
the best state of repair.
At sunset we passed a group of islands thickly wooded, principally by
river-willows; and surrounded by long narrow necks of land, from which
the approach of the vessel aroused such a cloud of aquatic birds as I
never beheld before in my life. They must have amounted to several
thousands; and being wild swans, geese, ducks, and plover, they filled
the air with a discord, to which the monotonous beat of the
steam-paddles was music. During the whole day we were earnestly talking
of Belgrade—the far-famed fortress of Belgrade—which we were anxious
to reach before dusk. It was, however, eight o’clock before we were
abreast of this last stronghold of the Turks in Europe; and in half an
hour more we anchored at Semlin; where we were to remain the whole of
the next day to take in coals, and to embark passengers and
merchandize.
On the following morning immediately after breakfast, we went on shore
to see the town; but previously to landing we stood awhile on deck
contemplating the interesting scene around us. The Save, which here
empties itself into the Danube, forms the boundary between the
possessions of the Moslem, and those of the Christian. On one side its
ripple reflects the belfried towers and tall crosses, the walls and
dwellings, of the Christian population of Semlin—on the other it
mirrors the slender minarets and bristling fortifications of the
followers of Mahomet. Barges, filled with water-patroles, passed and
repassed the vessel; all was activity along the shore of Semlin; while a
dead stillness hung over the dark outworks of the opposite bank.
A walk of ten minutes brought us to the gate of Semlin, which terminates
a long, wide, clean-looking street, forming the main artery of the town.
The tide of life was, however, flowing through it sluggishly; a few
knots of military, belonging to the Italian regiment by which it was
garrisoned, were grouped at distances, or lounged idly along, gazing
into the shop windows; but we did not meet half a dozen peasants; a
circumstance that was afterwards explained by the fact of our having
made our incursion on the day of a great annual market, which had
attracted nearly all the inhabitants of the town and the surrounding
country to an extensive square at the back of the main street; where we
found a dense crowd of horses, waggons, merchandize, busy men, and plain
women.
Among its public buildings, Semlin boasts a Quarantaine Establishment,
considerably more extensive than that of Orsova; and also, as we were
informed, infinitely preferable in point of comfort and convenience. Our
curiosity, however, did not tend in that direction; and we were quite
satisfied with a view of the exterior walls.
In our stroll through the airy and well-kept streets, we visited the
Greek Church, which was handsomely fitted up. The door was opened to us
by a magnificent-looking priest, who did the honours with great
politeness; save that he would not admit me into the Sanctuary to
examine the enamelled bible which he displayed with great pride to the
gentlemen; little imagining, holy man! that I had penetrated behind the
veil of the church at the Fanar; and seen the most costly of all their
copies of the Sacred Writings in the thrice blessed hands of the
Patriarch himself!
From the Church we ascended a height above the town, to explore the
ruins of the celebrated Castle of Hunyady, the father of Matteas
Corvinus; the most renowned of all Hungarian heroes. It is now rapidly
passing away, to be numbered with the things that were, and are not. It
is a square erection, with a round tower at each angle; and is no where
left standing more than ten feet from the level of the earth; but the
walls are extremely massive, measuring nearly eighteen feet in
thickness; and the situation is commanding, as the acclivity on which it
is built sweeps the river to a considerable distance on both sides.
Having sauntered through the town, and made a few purchases, in order to
recall to us hereafter our first ramble in Sclavonia, we returned on
board to a mid-day dinner; the Chevalier having assured us that he
possessed sufficient interest with the General commanding at Semlin, to
secure to us the permission to visit Belgrade; which, being a Turkish
fort, was unapproachable to the Quarantaine-cleansed, without special
authority. He had calculated justly; and in the course of the afternoon
an Imperial barge put off, with the plague-flag flying at her stern, and
took us on board, attended by two keepers from the Quarantaine
Establishment, and a Custom-house officer. Under this cheerful escort we
departed for Belgrade; the last minareted town in Europe, and the
residence of Yusuf Pasha; who, in the event of hostilities, will
probably acquit himself at Belgrade as honourably as he did at Varna.
The position of this extensive fortress is most imposing; seated as it
is upon the banks of two noble rivers: its walls being washed on two
sides by the Danube, and on a third by the Save. Its appearance is very
formidable, and had it been bestowed upon an European power, it must
have proved a dangerous present; but its noble outworks and stately
walls are crumbling to decay; and in its present state it is scarcely
more than a colossal feature in the landscape.
On the first cession of the Fortress of Belgrade to the Turks by the
Emperor Leopold, the occupation of the town was reserved exclusively to
the Servians, whose Prince, Milosch, has a handsome residence in the
principal street; but since the treaty of Unkiar Skelessi, the Osmanlis
have poured into the town; and, as the natives resisted the innovation,
have formed themselves into a distinct colony which may be called
Turk-town, where they live with the Jews in tolerable harmony; a
circumstance that to a person conversant with the Musselmaun prejudice
against the outcasts of Israel, is altogether inexplicable. The two
people have a population of eight thousand souls; while the Servians
average about twelve thousand.
Nothing could be more irksome than our passage through the streets of
Belgrade! We landed beside the New Custom-house, a large and rather
handsome building; and thence passed the gate of the town, which was
guarded by a sentinel who could have been barely fourteen years of age.
Just within the barrier stood the guard-house, where an officer sat
smoking his chibouk, and talking with his men, with all the _bon-hommie_
and laxity of discipline, common to the Turks.
It must have been a comedy to see us pass along, all crowded together,
and flanked and followed by our vigilant guardians; who with their long
canes threw aside every fragment of linen, woollen, or paper, that
chanced to lie in our path, as well as chasing thence every passenger
who happened to cross it. The Turks smiled a quiet smile as we passed
them, for they believe all Europeans to be impregnable to the plague,
and consequently consider their precautions as the mere result of a love
of excitement and bustle; and I confess that to me the extreme
watchfulness of our attendants was so irritating, that, although it
amused me for a time, and that I smiled with the Turks at the pains
taken to prevent our contact with the inhabitants of a town in which no
plague-case had happened during the season, and who had therefore more
reason to avoid our own proximity, it finished by making me perfectly
nervous.
Thus guarded, and rendered sensible that it is sometimes more
troublesome to be out of quarantaine than to be in it, we made our way
to the residence of the Austrian Consul, with whom our friend the
Chevalier was acquainted; and who joined our party at a respectful
distance, having sent his dragoman to request the Pasha’s permission for
us to visit the interior of the fortress. While we awaited his reply we
determined on accompanying our new and courteous acquaintance to pay a
visit to General Milosch, the brother of the Prince, who is a resident
in Servia. By the way he pointed out to us the house of the Prince’s
daughter, who is married to a wealthy brewer; and to whom he gave a herd
of ten thousand oxen as a marriage portion. And, what was infinitely
more interesting, the dwelling of Cerny George; a single-storied
building of some extent, but of most unpretending appearance.
A servant having been despatched to apprise the General of our intended
visit, he received us most politely at the door of his house, and
conducted us up stairs to a marble hall; being kept at arm’s length
during the ascent by our plague-preventing keepers; who, having
themselves placed a line of chairs for us along one side of the hall,
graciously permitted us to be seated. The General, attended by two or
three servants, then took possession of a green silk fauteuil at the
other extremity of the apartment; and the lady of the house shortly
afterwards made her appearance, followed by her eldest daughter; a
remarkably fine girl, with a noble forehead, and full dark eyes. The
costume of these ladies was extremely elegant and picturesque;
confirming an opinion which I had often expressed, that the Greek dress,
if carefully arranged, and judiciously chosen as to colours, must be one
of the most becoming and effective in the world. Here I saw the
realization of my idea; for the small fèz, confined by the dark tress of
hair, and fastened with a diamond clasp; the pelisse of pale blue satin,
lined and edged with sables; and the full robe of silk, delicately
embroidered on the bosom and wrists with gold, were all Greek; while the
extreme _tenue_ and taste of their arrangement, the slight waist, and
careful _chaussure_, were essentially Servian.
Nothing could exceed the courteous attention of the whole family.
Coffee, pipes, and sweetmeats were served; and our trusty guardians,
satisfied with handing them to us themselves, and thus heroically
incurring the risk of becoming the medium of contagion in their own
proper persons, allowed us to make use of the silver spoons, although we
had been obliged to deliver up our money in the quarantaine, in order
that it might be washed by the keeper—Metals being voted
plague-conductors at Orsova, though they were admitted to _pratique_ at
Belgrade!
The permission of the Pasha to our entrance into the fortress was not so
readily accorded as had been anticipated; and we were accordingly
detained nearly an hour ere it arrived. It came, however, at last; and,
after taking leave of the interesting family who had so hospitably
received us, we once more set forth, traversing a considerable portion
of the Servian town, in order to reach the glacis; when, diverging a
little from our direct route, we ascended one of the outworks, in order
to look down upon the Turk quarter, and the shores of the river.
Hence we had a lovely view of Semlin, and of a portion of the extensive
Hungarian plain, which, studded with villages, and masses of forest
timber, extends for a distance of six and thirty leagues. In Turk-town
the Consul pointed out to us the ruins of several fine buildings erected
by the Austrians; and, amongst others, the remains of the residence of
Prince Eugene.
Descending the outwork, whence we had a perfect insight into the
dilapidated state of the exterior walls and bastions of the once lordly
fortress; we proceeded to the gate, and, having passed it, were obliged
to progress for a considerable distance along the palisade, ere we
reached the bridge by which we were to enter the fort. The palisades
were in melancholy keeping with the rest of the defences; and traces of
fire were perceptible on the few that still remained erect.
The interior of this celebrated stronghold did not belie its promise
from without. A _ci-devant_ barrack had a stunted minaret built against
its wall, and was converted into a very dilapidated-looking mosque. The
citadel, now denominated the Palace of the Pasha, had much the
appearance of a barn, weather-stained and neglected, with broken windows
and swinging shutters. The kiosk of the harem was a temporary wooden
building; pitched, and repaired with unpainted timber. And, had I been
on my way _to_ Constantinople, instead of _from_ it, my pre-conceived
and highly-wrought ideas of Oriental splendour would have inevitably
suffered utter prostration at the sight of this “princely”
establishment.
The Fortress of Belgrade, which is the most extensive, as well as the
strongest military position possessed by the Turks, is garrisoned only
by four hundred men, or rather men and boys, for a portion of them are
mere youths; and when to this fact is added another still more
startling, that since it passed into the hands of its present masters,
all the cisterns have been suffered to fall into utter decay; and that
the whole of the water necessary for the supply of the inhabitants is
carried into the fort daily in carts, it will be seen at once that a
future “Siege of Belgrade” would be a bloodless one; as the garrison
must inevitably be starved out by drought.
I must not, however, omit to mention that the gentlemen of our party
were much struck by the very soldier-like and efficient manner in which
the troops (if thus I may be permitted to designate the mere handful of
men collected in the drilling-ground) were performing their exercise;
and whom they declared to excel in precision of movement, and
cleanliness of appearance any Turkish regiment that they had seen in the
capital; and to do great credit to the military talent of Osman Bey,
their Lieutenant-Colonel; who, as well as Ismaèl Bey, a subaltern
officer in the same corps, is a son of the Pasha.
Osman Bey, who is rather a fine-looking man, greeted us very politely as
we crossed the exercise-ground, in order to leave the fortress by a
handsome gate, above whose massy columns are still emblazoned, in _alto
relievo_, the arms of Austria, in a shield surrounded by military
emblems, and supported by two colossal suits of armour.
Beside the moat that protects this gate, stands an hexagonal tower,
built by the Turks, and called the “Fearless Tower,” from the
pertinacity with which they defended it during a siege; and the heroic
actions performed in its immediate vicinity by one of their Pashas. This
tower, and two or three rude bridges of timber over the moat; a couple
of ill-proportioned minarets, and the wooden kiosk attached to the
citadel, are the only Turkish erections perceptible. Ruin is rapidly
progressing on all sides; the walls are giving way; the ditches are in
many places cumbered with the fallen rubbish; the covered ways are laid
open; and the guns that yet remain within the weed-grown embrasures are
so ill-mounted, as to be perfectly innoxious.
Such is, at this moment, the condition of the far-famed Fortress of
Belgrade—the boundary-fort of Servia—the last spot of European land
subject to the sway of the Moslem—And here, as we re-entered our barge
to pass to the opposite bank of the Save, whence we were to return to
Semlin in the carriage of a friend of the Chevalier’s, we looked our
last on the graceful minarets which indicate the religion of Mahomet,
and form so elegant a feature in the Oriental landscape.
Ere we returned on board, we drove to the garden of the Austrian
dragoman, whence you are said to command the finest view in the
neighbourhood of Semlin; and although the river-vapours effectually
prevented us, on this occasion, from seeing a hundred yards beyond the
spot where we stood, we were amply repaid for the détour that we had
been induced to make, by the opportunity which it afforded to us of
spending half an hour in one of the most charming and well-kept gardens
imaginable; a great treat at all times, but doubly agreeable to
individuals like ourselves, who had been so long wanderers on the
waters. The walks ran through avenues of vines, whose purple clusters
did not invite our touch in vain; and so neatly trained as to form the
greenest and most level hedges that can be imagined; while not a weed
nor an unsightly object was to be seen from one end of the enclosure to
the other. The Sclavonians are, indeed, considered such proficient
gardeners, that forty-five out of fifty of those employed in
Constantinople are of that nation; and we had consequently been curious
to see a gentleman’s grounds in their own land, and laid out entirely in
their own manner.
We were about to re-enter the carriage, in order to return to the
vessel, when a flight of rockets ran shimmering along the sky; and
immediately afterwards we were overtaken by a procession of peasants,
celebrating the last day of the vintage.
It was one of the prettiest sights that I ever remember to have seen.
The train was headed by about thirty youths dressed in white garments,
and wearing large flapping hats of black felt, nearly similar to the
_sombreros_ of Spain, into whose narrow bands they had wreathed bunches
of wild-flowers; each carrying across his shoulder a long pliant pole,
with a basket piled with grapes at each extremity. These were followed
by as many young girls, in the usual picturesque costume of the country,
with a profusion of marigolds fastened among their dark tresses; walking
two and two, and bearing baskets of grapes between them. And the
procession terminated with a crowd of children waving in their little
hands long branches of the vine; and lending their clear and joyous
voices to the wild chorus of the vintage-song that their elders were
pealing out; and which ran, as nearly as I can render it from the
hurried and imperfect translation given to me as we journeyed on,
somewhat in the following manner:—
THE SCLAVONIAN VINTAGE-SONG.
Around the oak the wild-vine weaves
Its glittering wreath of blood-red leaves;
But it pays not back the peasant’s cares;
No gold it wins, and no fruit it bears.
It may flaunt its glories on the breeze,
We have no time to waste on these;
Our’s is the Vine near whose goodly root
We seek, and find the jewelled fruit!
The wild-vine springs on the mountain’s crest,
By every wind are its leaves caress’d;
But it sickens soon in the garish ray
That rests on its beauty all the day.
Let it joy awhile in the breeze and sun,
A lovely trifler to look upon;
Our’s is the Vine that, with worthier pride,
Gems with its fruit the fair hill-side!
Our’s is the Vine! Our’s is the Vine!
Our’s is the source of the rich red wine!
Flowers may be fair on the maiden’s brow—
Streams may be bright in their sunny flow—
But dearer to us is the joyous spell
Which our clustering grape calls up so well;
Of purple and gold our wreaths we twine—
Our’s is the Vine! Our’s is the Vine!