BALACLAVA AND VALLEY OF BAIDAR.
Balaclava—Karl Ritter’s views of the importance of
the Black Sea in very early times—Homer’s account of
Balaclava—The Cembalo of the Genoese—Tatar occupation
of it—Arnaouts—Tchorgouna—Mackenzie’s Farm—Valley of
Baidar—Manners of the Tatars—Woronzof road.
Balaclava is now a busy scene; the little bay is crowded with transports;
thousands of our countrymen disembark here to exercise their perilous
profession, and as many re-embark, poor wounded soldiers, shattered in
constitution, or with the loss of limbs, but henceforth immortal heroes,
whose deeds will be the theme of the historian and the poet, whose future
welfare will be a subject of anxious solicitude to their country, and who
henceforth, however humble their rank, in whatever country they visit,
will be marked men; marked for honour, and distinction, and respect, from
all who admire chivalrous boldness, and that still rarer quality, calm
unimpassioned endurance. Sevastopol is the grandest theatre of events
that has yet been seen. The audience, so to speak, is the largest, and,
for the first time, really comprehends the whole world. Even the wars
of Napoleon were a subject of little interest in China, or Australia,
or California; but each swaying to and fro of the mighty combatants at
Sevastopol interests literally the whole globe, and that interest is
doubled by the speed with which the news is carried, and the increased
knowledge which all nations now possess of each other.
When I visited Balaclava before the present war, nothing could be more
quiet than this little port, and a few Greeks sauntering about, or
exercising their peddling occupations in the village bazar, were the only
persons to be met with. Yet even then, like most out-of-the-way places
in the world, there were some representatives of the British nation to
be found, and I was asked to go and visit a crew of shipwrecked English
sailors in the lazaretto, who had been saved with difficulty on the rocks
at the entrance of the harbour. The ship had struck; the poor fellows
were thrown on a ledge of the cliffs, where they remained for nearly a
day and a night before they could be rescued; yet when they were brought
in at last, exhausted, and at death’s door, nothing could induce them
to touch the hot brandy that was brought them, lest they should break
their pledge as teetotalers. It was impossible not to admire in them that
British firmness of purpose, which was the same quality which showed
itself in the defence of Inkerman, however mistaken in this application
of it.
Balaclava is the only bay on the southern coast resembling those about
Sevastopol, where the land rises suddenly on each side, and the water
is so deep that the largest ships may anchor close to the shore. On
approaching it from the East, the geological formation is seen at once
to change in its vicinity; the summits of the rocks are still, like the
rest of the Tauric chain, calcareous; but they have been changed by
violent action into red, blue, and grey marbles, below which reappears
the coarse red pudding-stone of the Tchatyr-Dagh mountain, while a great
rent, which opens on the sea, and was called the Valley of the Devil
(Shaitan Déréh), shows a black or yellowish schist. I will here quote the
words in which Dubois describes his arrival on this singular spot: “Each
step,” he says, “in approaching Balaclava is an enigma to me, such an
inconceivable disorder reigns among these masses of pudding-stone with
enormous pebbles, which alternate with layers of marble and sandstone;
and the marble finishes this strange series, which seems like a world
turned topsy-turvy. When arrived at the top of the sterile mountain that
overhangs Balaclava, I cry out with astonishment, What are these white
antique towers perched on the top of rocks descending so rapidly to
the water? What is this brilliant lake shut in by the steep mountains?
And that red promontory reflected in the waves of the sea? Can this
be Balaclava? Nothing but ruins are visible, where then is the town?
Contemplating with admiration this romantic scene, I descended the
mountain, looking continually for the town, of which I saw no vestige. My
guide at last directed me suddenly to the left, and like magic, I found
myself in Balaclava, which, placed on the narrow strip of land between
the mountain with the ruins and the tranquil bay, is not seen till it is
entered.”[153]
Like many other places in the Crimea, Balaclava has a very ancient
history. Our first notice of it is in the dim twilight of archaic times.
We have the high authority of Karl Ritter for supposing that it is
the port of the Læstrigons mentioned in the Odyssey; and the extreme
accuracy of Homer’s description of it, as will be presently more fully
shown, seems to make Ritter’s supposition extremely probable. But before
entering into the particular identification of Balaclava, I will shortly
state what Ritter’s views are as to the part which the shores of the
Black Sea played in very early times.[154] He has undertaken to prove,
from the most ancient monuments which are offered to us by ancient
geography, archæology, mythology, architecture, and religious systems,
that colonies of Indian priests, having departed with the ancient worship
of Buddha from the centre of Asia, came directly or indirectly, before
the historic times of Greece, to establish themselves on the banks of
the Phasis, around the Euxine Sea, in Thrace, on the Ister, and in many
countries of Western Europe, and even in Greece; that these colonies
exercised a remarkable religious influence, and that these facts are
proved, not only from the relations of the Asiatics, but principally
from the study of the most ancient fragments of the historians of
Greece and Asia Minor. We in Europe, receiving our lights from Greece,
are habituated to adopt all the illusions of the national pride of the
Greeks; and, according to them, Greece was the focus of all light, whence
science, and civilization, and religion had their origin. But in looking
back to their myths, in reading Homer, and the history of the Argonauts,
and of Phrixus and Helle, and others, it would seem that the Greeks were
always civilized by those whom they called barbarians. The king and
the people who received the Argonauts, the Tyrians, the Trojans, were
all superior in civilization to the armies of adventurers, who, like
the Normans of the middle ages, came to plunder them, in violating the
laws of hospitality. All the ancient poets and historians seem to have
chosen the Black Sea for the theatre of the exploits of their heroes.
All their relations look towards it as the point whence civilization and
wealth proceeded. Up to our days the wanderings of Ulysses, in the 10th,
11th, and 12th Books of the Odyssey, were supposed to be on the shores
of Italy and Sicily. There were sought the Læstrigons, the Cyclops, and
Scylla and Charybdis; but this is certainly wrong, and the poet wished
to make Ulysses wander on that inhospitable shore, which appeared to him
at the extremity of the world. The moment that Ulysses reaches the coast
of the Læstrigons, we must recognize ourselves as on the shores of the
Black Sea. Their country can be no other than the barbarous Crimea, and
he evidently called the Tauri the Læstrigons, from the Greek “lêstês,”
meaning pirate or brigand.
After leaving them, Ulysses was driven on a low coast, the island of
Æa, where the enchantress Circe reigned, the sister of Æetes. This was
evidently Colchis or Mingrelia, which may be easily recognised by the
broad river (the modern Rion) which received the fleet of Ulysses, the
vast forests which covered its banks, and the palace hidden in the trees,
which exactly represents the Nikolakévi of our days. The wine there is as
tempting as ever, the honey as fresh, and the women still pass their time
in embroidery as in the time of Homer. From the beauty of the country and
its inhabitants it is still the land of enchantment.
That there may be no mistake about the position of Æa, here the poet
places the palace of Aurora in which take place the songs and dances of
the Hours, and where the sun renews its birth. After leaving Colchis
Circe sends Ulysses to consult the oracle of the infernal gods, and when
the hero has crossed the empire of Neptune, which he thinks the end of
the world, he finds a coast of easy access, shaded with high poplars and
sterile willows, where are the habitations of the Cimmerians covered with
thick clouds and black obscurity.
The Cimmerians, we know from later authors, lived at Kertch and in the
island of Taman, at the extremity of the Black Sea, which to Ulysses
appeared the end of the kingdom of Neptune. There he is described as
finding one of the entrances to the infernal regions, and there to this
moment exist the springs of black and burning naphtha, which roll their
stinking waters like the Cocytus and the Acheron; and there also are the
mud volcanoes, belching forth a mixture of fire and water, which have
altered the form of all the country round.
Then Ulysses returns to Circe, and starts for Ithaca, and leaves the
Black Sea by passing through Scylla and Charybdis, which closed the
entrance with their rocks surrounded by whirlpools. These are the
islands of the “blue Symplegades,” familiar to all who have passed from
Constantinople to the Crimea, standing at the entrance of the Bosphorus;
and Homer cannot mean the straits of Messina, because he says that the
only ship which had passed these straits was the Argo, when it went to
Colchis on the expedition for the golden fleece.
Thus it seems almost beyond a doubt that the shores of the Black Sea were
the mysterious regions where some of the scenes of Homer were laid, and
in parts of which in the very earliest times, as in Colchis, were settled
highly civilized communities. Let us now observe Homer’s description of
Balaclava, as Pope has translated it:—
“Within a long recess a bay there lies
Edged round with cliffs, high pointing to the skies.
The jutting shores, that swell on either side,
Contract its mouth, and break the rushing tide.
Our eager sailors seize the fair retreat,
And bound within the port their crowded fleet;
For here retired the sinking billows sleep,
And smiling calmness silvered o’er the deep.
I only in the bay refused to moor,
And fixed without my hawsers to the shore:
From thence we climbed a point, whose airy brow
Commands the prospect of the plains below;
No tracks of beasts, or signs of men, we found,
But smoky volumes rolling from the ground.”
_Od._, b. 10, v. 101.
It is impossible to give a truer or clearer picture of Balaclava than
that which was thus drawn by old Homer nearly three thousand years ago.
The two high rocks which advance into the bosom of the waves, and seem
approaching to embrace one another, are there, and only leave a narrow
passage turned towards the south, which barely allows two vessels to
cross one another. Its width is eight hundred feet and its greatest depth
one hundred fathoms, and the water of the bay looks very black. When the
narrow passage is passed, the port enlarges to a width of twelve hundred
feet, and its depth goes on diminishing from ninety to six fathoms, its
entire length being nearly a mile.
This bay is a phenomenon in geology, deeply encased as it is at its
entrance in rocks of calcareous marble and pudding-stone, and finishing
in a black schist, which opens on a basin of chalk.
Wherever Ulysses landed, whether on the right hand or the left, terrible
rocks border the shore; and after scaling them, he could only see, as we
do now, an unfruitful rocky soil, with no plants but a few juniper trees,
and no trace of the labour, either of men or oxen. The smoke could alone
show him the town of the Læstrigons hidden in the rocks.
Homer then continues:—
“Two with our herald thither we command
With speed to learn what men possessed the land.
They went, and kept the wheels’ smooth beaten road,
Which to the city drew the mountain wood.
When, lo! they met beside a crystal spring
The daughter of Antiphates the king;
She to Artacia’s silver streams came down
(Artacia’s streams alone supply the town):
The damsel they approach, and ask what race
The people were? Who monarch of the place?
With joy the maid the unwary strangers heard,
And showed them where the royal dome appeared.
They went, but as they entering saw the queen,
Of size enormous, and terrific mien,
Not yielding to some bulky mountain’s height,
A sudden horror struck their aching sight.
Swift at her call her husband scoured away,
To wreak his hunger on the destined prey.
One for his food the raging glutton slew,
But two rushed out, and to the navy flew.
Balked of his prey, the yelling monster flies
And fills the city with his hideous cries:
A ghastly band of giants hear the roar,
And pouring down the mountains crowd the shore.
Fragments they rend from off the craggy brow
And dash the ruins on the ships below!
The crackling vessels burst; hoarse groans arise,
And mingled horrors echo to the skies:
The men like fish they stuck upon the flood,
And crammed their filthy throats with human blood!”
The herald and the two companions whom Ulysses sent, whether they went
to the right or the left, must have come out on the chalky valley of
Balaclava, where the people, as is done to this day, export the spoils
of the forests on the neighbouring mountains, while the environs of
Balaclava are quite naked. By following this road they arrived at the
extremity of the port, where is still the only spring of water, or, as
it was then called, the fountain of the nymph Artacia, which was free
to all the citizens. The younger daughter of Antiphates, the King of
the Læstrigons, showed them the lofty gates of a palace which touched
heaven, which stood no doubt where now are the ruins of the fortress of
Balaclava. This was the palace of her father, which had been built by
Lamus, an ancient King of the Læstrigons.
The savage Antiphates, faithful to the character which the ancients
always attributed to the Tauri, seized one of the ambassadors to devour
him, while the other two fled away. Meanwhile the alarm had been given in
the town; the people had seen the fleet of Ulysses enter, and they rushed
to it from all parts.
Balaclava was called the port of Symbols by the Greeks, and this name
was corrupted into Cembalo by the Genoese, and the place was taken by
them from the Greek dukes of the Crimea in 1365, and they then built the
fortress which now exists, and by their enterprise greatly increased the
commerce of the port. In 1433, the Greeks, who had remained at Cembalo,
having conspired, drove out the Genoese, and replaced the town and castle
in the hands of a noble Greek, called Alexis, the lord of Theodori
(Inkerman). He was driven out in the following year by Charles Somellin,
who was sent from Genoa with a fleet of twenty vessels, further augmented
in passing through the Greek islands, so that he arrived with 6000 men.
In 1475 Balaclava experienced the fate of Soudak, and was taken by the
Turks, who gave it up uninjured to the Tatars, by whom it was held for
several centuries, till they were driven out by its present inhabitants,
the Arnaout Greeks, in 1780.
When Catherine II. took the Crimea, the Tatars were still a powerful
people, with a strong nationality. The object of Catherine was to
break this up, and to prepare the country for the future habitation
of the great Slave people. She, therefore, encouraged as many of the
inhabitants of the Crimea, as she could influence, to emigrate, and
appealing to the religious sentiments of the Greeks, and their hereditary
hatred of the Turks, she called in Greek soldiers to assist her in
expelling the Tatars that were refractory.
A regiment of Albanians was raised, chiefly from the Greeks who had
been in the Russian service in the Archipelago, and they were first
called Arnaouts at Balaclava. The Tatars having emigrated, or been
dispersed, this town, together with the surrounding country, extending
to the banks of the Bouiouk Ouzéne, including the villages of Kadikói,
Karáni, Kámara, and Alsou (after removing the rest of the Tatar families
to other places), was given to the Albanians as a settlement.[155] A
few years before the breaking out of the present war they numbered 600
fighting men, and each colonist was liable to be called out for four
months of active service, and had the other eight at his disposal for the
cultivation of his lands. Each soldier had twenty-eight roubles yearly
pay (about 4_l._ 10_s._), and found his own equipment.
The town of Balaclava has probably received its modern name from the
strong Greek castle of Pallakium,[156] which stood here, although some
suppose it to have been taken from “Bella clava,” or “the beautiful
port,” a derivation which every traveller would willingly concede as
probable. It is mentioned by one Italian traveller of the seventeenth
century under the name of Baluchlacca, and at that time it was inhabited
by Turks, Greeks, and Armenians. “Its unrivalled beauty and security,” he
says, “tempted him to stay there several days, and at that time its fine
Genoese fortifications were entire.”[157] This old fortress, like all the
strong places of the Genoese and Greeks in the peninsula, is erected on
inaccessible rocks, close to the mouth of the harbour, on the adjoining
eastern hill, and is fortified with high walls and towers.
When Clarke visited this magnificent fortress, the arms of Genoa were
still upon the walls. “The mountain on the north-east side,” he says,
“is covered with its mouldering towers, and the rock itself has been
excavated, so as to exhibit stately magazines and chambers, the sides of
which were lined with coloured stucco. It is surprising,” he continues,
“that the inhabitants of Balaclava do not use these caves, for they are
very habitable, and the stucco is still in the highest preservation. We
entered one, which was a spacious oblong chamber, lined throughout with
stucco, and somewhat resembling the famous _piscina mirabile_, near the
supposed villa of Lucullus at Baiæ. We could form no conjecture for what
purpose this place was intended, except as a granary or storeroom; it
bore no marks of any aqueous deposit on its sides, and was at the same
time dry, and in perfect preservation; it could not, therefore, have
served as a reservoir for water.”[158] Might not some use be made of
these dry caves for the stores of our army, if they be not situated at
too high an elevation?
The port of Balaclava is frequented by fish of passage, especially by
mackerel, by the _mugil cephalus_, in great numbers, and also by the red
mullet, a most delicate fish, whether eaten in a fresh or pickled state,
which is also caught in the lakes of the interior. The mackerels become
as tender and savoury as herrings, after being kept twelve months in
brine.[159] The fishermen, when our army arrived at Balaclava, came with
their nets to Lord Raglan, and offered, if they were allowed protection,
to supply our army with fish, as the season was just commencing, but,
from some mistake, their offer was neglected.
By the shortest road, Tchorgouna is about four miles from Balaclava, and
occupies a romantic situation, in a gradually contracting valley, through
which the Tchornaya Retchka discharges itself into the bay of Sevastopol.
Here is, or was, a lofty octagonal tower, which dated probably from the
time of the Genoese, and placed half way between Balaclava and Mangoup,
was intended to keep open the communication between them, when Mangoup
was an important fortress. At four miles from Tchorgouna, in a north-east
direction, is the “_Muilnaya gora_,” or Soap-hill of the Russians, which
is literally burrowed with pits for extracting the fuller’s-earth, which
is found under chalky marl, at a depth of about forty feet. The soap-hill
is a gentle elevation, in a broad tract of level country, about six
miles wide, at the foot of the steep mountain called Mackenzie’s Farm.
It received this name, because Admiral Mackenzie, who was commander of
the fleet at Sevastopol, towards the end of the last century, established
a farm on the summit of this mountain, for the erection of which a
considerable portion of the woods was granted to him, but subsequently
repurchased by the Crown for the use of the navy. The Tatar name for the
mountain is Kok-agatch, from the numerous white beech trees which once
covered it. The oak, Christ’s thorn, and cornel-tree also grew here, and
of the latter the long pipes were made, in such request among the Turks.
In spring the ground is covered with large-flowered primroses, bearing
white, and yellow, and pale violet blossoms. Veronicas, euphorbias,
hyacinths, broad pionies, asphodels, and yellow irises, also deck the
ground in spring, and the clematis, wild vine, and wild rose may be found
among the shrubs in the neighbourhood of Inkerman.[160]
On leaving Balaclava for the southern coast, the traveller regains the
high road, before it enters the celebrated valley of Baidar, which was
much praised by the first travellers who wrote after the occupation of
the Crimea by the Russians, even before its real beauties were fully
known.
The valley is rather more than ten miles in length and six in breadth;
so beautifully cultivated, that the eye roams over meadows, woods, and
rich corn-fields, enclosed and intersected by green hedges and garden
plantations. The villages are neat, and the inhabitants healthy. It is
protected on every side from the winds that blow with great fury on the
northern slopes of the mountains, and is irrigated by clear streams,
that fall imperceptibly through the fields. The mode of enclosure, and
the manner of cultivation, are like those of our own country, and there
is much to remind the traveller of the vales of Kent and Surrey. The
mountains, as well as the plain, were formerly thick set with oak, wild
pear, crab, and cornelian cherry trees, which shaded the road, and kept
off the scorching rays of the sun, but all these have now disappeared.
The domestic habits of the Tatars are very simple, and resemble those of
other Oriental nations, except that they have been to a certain degree
modified by contact with the Russians. When a stranger, says Clarke,
arrives at a Tatar house, they conduct him to the apartment destined
for the men, and present him with a bason, water, and a clean napkin,
to wash his hands. They then place before him whatever their dwelling
affords, of curd, cream, honey in the comb, poached eggs, roasted fowls,
and fruit. After the meal is over, the bason and water are brought in
as before, because all the Tatars, like the Turks and other Oriental
nations, eat with their fingers, and use no forks. Then, if in the house
of a rich Tatar, a long pipe is presented, of cherry-wood, which grows
in the mountains, and with amber or ivory. After this, carpets and
cushions are laid for the guests, that they may repose. All the houses
of the Tatars, even the cottages of the poor, are extremely clean, being
often white-washed. The floor is generally of earth, but smooth, firm,
dry, and covered with mats and carpets. The meanest Tatar possesses a
humble dwelling, one for himself and his guest, and the other for his
women. They do not allow their most intimate friends to enter the place
allotted for the female part of the family. With so much cleanliness, it
is surprising to find the itch prevalent. It is also difficult to escape
venomous insects and vermin. The tarantula, the scorpion, cockroach,
lice, bugs, fleas, flies, and ants, are more or less to be met with
everywhere, but, with proper precautions, the traveller need not be much
incommoded by them.
A favourite beverage of sour milk, mixed with water, the yaourt of the
Turks, is found in request with the Tatars, as among the Laplanders.
They all shave their heads, both young and old, and wear in their houses
a sort of scull-cap, over which, in winter, is placed a kind of helmet
of wool, and in summer a turban. Their legs in winter are swathed in
cloth bandages, like those worn throughout Russia, and their feet are
covered by a kind of sandal. In summer both legs and feet are naked.
Their shirts, like those of Turkey, are wide and loose at the sleeves,
hanging down below the ends of their fingers. If they have occasion to
use their hands, either to eat or work, they cast back the sleeve of the
shirt upon the shoulder, and leave the arm bare. The jacket or waistcoat
is generally of silk or cotton, and the trousers being made very large,
full, and loose, though bound tight below the knee, fall over in thick
folds on the calf of the leg.
They have no chairs in their houses, and a little short stool, about
three inches high, is used for supporting a tray during their meals.
This stool is often ornamented, either by carved work or inlaid
mother-of-pearl. During the summer months the chief delight of the men
consists in the open air, sleeping at night either beneath the shed
before the door, or under the shade of the fine spreading trees which
they cultivate near their houses. In the principal part of a Tatar
dwelling there is a particular part which bears the name of Sopha. This
is a platform raised twelve inches from the floor, occupying the entire
side of the apartment, not for the purpose of a seat, but as a place for
their household chests, the _dii domestici_, and heaps of carpets, mats,
cushions, and clothes. The same custom may be observed in the tents of
the Kalmucks.
In some things the Tatars display a taste for finery. Their pillows
are covered with coloured linen, and the napkins for their frequent
ablutions, which hang upon their walls, are embroidered and fringed.
If one of their guests falls asleep, although but for a few minutes,
and by accident, during the day, they bring him water to wash himself
as soon as they perceive he is awake. In their diet they make great use
of honey, and their mode of keeping and taking bees accords with the
normal simplicity of their lives. From the trunks of young trees, about
six inches in diameter, they form cylinders, by scooping out almost all
except the bark, and then closing their extremities with plaster or mud,
they place them horizontally, piled one upon another, in the gardens for
hives. They often open these cylinders to give their guests fresh honey,
and the bees are detached merely by being held over a piece of burning
paper, without any aid of sulphur. The honey of the Crimea is of a very
superior quality; the bees, as in Greece, feeding on blossoms of the wild
thyme of the mountains, and such flowers as the garden spontaneously
affords. Every Tatar cottage has its garden, in the cultivation of which
the owner finds his principal amusement. Vegetation is so rapid, that,
in two years, vines not only shoot up so as to form a shade before the
doors, but are actually laden with fruit. They delight to have their
houses as it were buried in foliage. These, consisting only of one story,
with low flat roofs, beneath trees which spread numerous branches quite
over them, constitute villages, which, at a distance, are only known by
the tufted grove in which they lie concealed. When the traveller arrives,
not a building is to be seen; it is only after passing between the trees,
and beneath their branches, that he begins to perceive the cottages
overshadowed by an exuberant vegetation of the walnut, the mulberry, the
vine, the fig, the olive, the pomegranate, the peach, the apricot, the
plum, the cherry, and the tall black poplar; all of which, intermingling
their clustering produce, form the most beautiful and fragrant canopies
that can be imagined.[161]
Through this beautiful valley, now devastated by contending armies, the
high road, called the Woronzof road, leads past the villages of Miskomia
and Arnoutka, to reach the southern coast, and crosses the mountain
barrier, which shuts out the valley from the sea by the pass of Phoros,
which, till the road was made, was only accessible by stone stairs cut in
the rock, perilous alike to man and beast.