GHOST STORIES AND TRAVELS IN GREECE
To go a little back in recollections of the eighties one of our friends
was Lord Cairns, Lord Chancellor in 1868 and again from 1874 till, I
believe, his death. Once when I was sitting near him at dinner, we were
discussing ghost stories. He said that without giving them general
credence he was impressed by one which had been told him by the wife of
the Prussian Minister, Madame Bernstorff. (I think, though am not sure,
that Bernstorff was Minister before there was a German Embassy.) The story
was, briefly, that a man in Berlin had a dream, thrice repeated, in which
a comrade appeared to him and said that he had been murdered, and that his
dead body was being carried out of the city, covered with straw, by a
certain gate. The man roused himself, told the police, the body was duly
found and the murderers arrested. "Well," said I, "I think I have read
that story in Dryden, and believe he took it from Chaucer." Sure enough I
found the tale in "The Cock and the Fox," Dryden's modernised version of
Chaucer's "Tale of the Nun's Priest"--but the amusing thing is that Dryden
says,
"An ancient author, equal with the best,
Relates this tale of dreams among the rest"--
and a note explains that the "ancient author" was Cicero, from whose
treatise, _De Divinatione_, the story was taken. I sent the book to Lord
Cairns, who answered (June 25th, 1883): "It is Madame Bernstorff's story
to the letter! It was most kind of you to send it to me, and it is a fresh
proof that there is nothing new under the sun! The 'catena' of
Cicero--Chaucer--Dryden--Bernstorff is very amusing."
[Sidenote: LORD HALSBURY'S GHOST STORY]
Being a Lord Chancellor does not render a man immune from belief in
ghosts. I have more than once heard the late Lord Halsbury relate his
adventure in this line. As a young man he went to stay with a friend, who
put him up for the night. After he had gone to bed, a figure entered his
room, and taking it to be his host he spoke to it, but it made no reply
and left as silently as it entered. At breakfast next morning he said to
the master of the house--I suppose jokingly--"If you did come in my room
last night I think you might have answered when I spoke to you." Both his
hosts looked embarrassed, and then his friend said, "Well, to tell you the
truth, that room is considered to be haunted; but it is our best room, and
my wife thought that a hard-headed lawyer would not be liable to be
disturbed, so we put you there." Mr. Giffard, as, Lord Halsbury then was,
left without further incident, but some time after, meeting his friend
again, he said, "Well, how's your ghost getting on?" "Oh, my dear fellow,"
was the reply, "don't talk of my ghost. My aunt came to stay with me and
we put her into that room. The ghost came in and tried to get into her
bed, and she will never speak to me again!"
Lord Halsbury also had a story about a ghost who haunted his brother's
house in London. I think it was a little old woman, I cannot remember the
details, but he certainly seemed to believe in it.
Talking of dreams and apparitions, though I cannot remember the
year--probably in the early nineties--I recollect a rather amusing
instance of the explosion of one of such stories when thoroughly sifted.
Mr. (afterwards Sir James) Knowles told me one day that the great object
of Myers and Gurney and the founders of the Psychical Society was to
obtain evidence of a genuine apparition seen by _two_ witnesses who would
both bear such testimony as would stand cross-examination by a barrister.
This was most sensible, as one person may honestly believe in an
appearance, which may be an hallucination caused by circumstances, and
affected by his own mental or bodily condition, but it is hardly possible
that such conditions will enable two people to see the same spirit at the
same moment unless it should actually appear. Mr. Knowles said that at
last the Psychical Society had found a well-authenticated story in which
two thoroughly credible witnesses had seen the ghost, and this was to come
out in the forthcoming number of _The Nineteenth Century_.
[Sidenote: THE GHOSTLY REPORTER]
The witnesses were an English judge and his wife; to the best of my
recollection they were Sir Edmund and Lady Hornby, and the scene of the
apparition Shanghai. Anyhow, I perfectly recollect the story, which was as
follows. The judge had been trying a case during the day, and he and his
wife had retired to bed when a man (European, not native) entered their
bedroom. They were much annoyed by this intrusion and asked what he
wanted. He replied that he was a reporter who had been in court, but had
been obliged to leave before the conclusion of the trial, and was
extremely anxious that the judge should tell him what the verdict was that
he might complete the report for his paper. The judge, to get rid of him,
gave some answer that satisfied him, and the man departed. Next day the
judge learnt that a reporter had been present who was taken ill and died
before the conclusion of the trial, and he was convinced that this was his
ghostly visitor. The weak point, said Mr. Knowles, was that the narrators
would not allow themselves to be cross-examined by a barrister. They were
very old, and nervous about the publication of the story in print, and the
thought of cross-examination was quite too much for them. However, Mr.
Knowles and the other investigators were fully satisfied as to their bona
fides, and the tale duly appeared in an article in the Review. No sooner
was it published than various people wrote pointing out that it was all a
misapprehension. There had been no reporter who had suddenly died on the
occasion specified, and various other details were disproved by officials
and others who had been at the place at the time when the judge was by way
of having presided over the trial and seen the ghost. (Sir Edmund was a
judge of the Supreme Court of China and Japan.) Mr. Knowles came again and
said, "There you see!" The story when subjected to the light of publicity
fell to the ground. No doubt something had put the germ into the old
people's heads and it had blossomed in the course of years.
To return for a minute to the year 1887. In that year my husband was
appointed Lord Lieutenant of Oxfordshire--an appointment which he held
until his death. This is referred to in the following verses by Mr. Lionel
Ashley, younger son of the great Lord Shaftesbury and a friend of my
husband's and mine of long standing. Lady Galloway and I used to call him
"the Bard," as he was fond of making verses about us. I insert these
because they give such a happy idea of one of Osterley Saturday-to-Monday
parties. They are dated June 19th, 1887, which I see by our Visitors' List
was the Sunday.
"In a cot may be found, I have heard the remark,
More delight than in Castles with pillars.
But we find in the Palace of Osterley Park,
All the charms of suburban Villiers.
"A Sunday in Osterley Gardens and Halls,
That's a day to look on to and after.
Its pleasures my memory fondly recalls,
And the talk, with its wisdom and laughter.
"In a nice little church a grave sermon we heard,
Which reproved Christianity flabby,
And urged that in heaven a place be preferred
To a Jubilee seat in the Abbey.
* * * * *
"The Irish question, in masterly way,
Mr. Lowell made easy and clear.
We must make them content, without further delay,
But the method was not his affair.
* * * * *
"Of the Queen's new Lieutenant, with pleasure we hail
The appointment, for now 'tis a mercy,
From cold shoulders in Oxfordshire never will fail
To protect her a glorious Jersey.
* * * * *
"Then may everyone of th' illustrious Brood
Learn to make the same excellent stand his own,
That not only the names, but the qualities good
May descend to each 'Child' and each 'Grandison.'"
The last line was rather prophetic, as there was no "Grandison" apart from
the family's Irish title at the time of writing. My husband, as already
mentioned, bore the name for the three weeks between his grandfather's and
father's death, but our elder son was always Villiers. Now _his_ son is
Grandison and I think bids fair to inherit the "qualities good" of his
grandfather--he could not do better.
[Sidenote: A JUBILEE SERMON]
The "nice little church" was that at Norwood Green, and the sermon,
preached by a rather eccentric Irish clergyman, informed us that he had
been studying history and found that in the days of George III's Jubilee
"there was an old king and a ma-ad king. How would you have liked that?"
And he continued to tell us of the death at that period of Sir John Moore
commemorated by an Irish clergyman who "two years later was translated to
the Kingdom of Heaven, for which his Irish curacy had so well prepared
him."
In addition to those above named by Mr. Ashley, we had staying with us
Lord Rowton, Lord and Lady Galloway, Lady Lytton and her daughter Betty,
Col. Charles Edgcumbe, my sister Cordelia, and my brother-in-law Reginald
Villiers, to whom my husband was greatly attached. It is very pleasant to
recall those happy days, but sad to think how few that shared them are
left!
I turn from our Osterley parties for the time being to record a most
amusing journey which Lady Galloway and I made to Greece in 1888. Lord
Jersey could not make up his mind to start with us, though we had hopes
(which proved vain) that he might join us later. Our families were
somewhat excited on learning our intention, as the recollection of the
Marathon brigands who captured poor Mr. Vyner and the Muncasters still
coloured the popular ideas of Greece.
Our husbands, however, were--fortunately--confident in our own powers of
taking care of ourselves. Lord Jersey calmly remarked, "If you are
captured Galloway and I will come with an army to rescue you." Mr. Ashley,
less trustful of the future, insisted on presenting each of us with a
small revolver and box of cartridges. I forget what Mary did with hers,
but my one object was to conceal the weapon from possible brigands. I
regarded them rather like wasps, who are supposed not to sting if you let
them alone, but I was certain that if I tried to shoot I should miss, and
then they might be annoyed and I should suffer. I had to take the
revolver, but I hid the cartridges in my luggage and put the weapon where
it would not be seen.
We were not absolutely certain till we reached Marseilles whether we
should go to Greece after all, or to Algeria or elsewhere, but finding
that we could get berths on a Messageries boat we ultimately carried out
our original intention though we did not really mean to stay long in
Athens or its neighbourhood, and imagined Marathon (the scene of the Vyner
tragedy) to be quite "out of bounds."
However, when on March 31st we reached the Piraeus early in the morning we
soon found that we were in the happiest possible abode. Our constant
friend and protector Sir Thomas (now Lord) Sanderson had written from the
Foreign Office to Mr. William Haggard, the British Charge d'Affaires, to
look after us in the absence of the Minister, and it is impossible to
speak too highly of his kindness. The Greek Ministers were deeply
impressed by the fact that Lady Galloway was (half) sister to the English
Prime Minister, Lord Salisbury, and laid themselves out to make everything
pleasant and delightful. Greece was still almost unknown to Cook's
tourists. I think there was a Cook's Office, but I do not recall seeing
any of his clients about the place--anyhow, not outside Athens itself. Mr.
Haggard met us with a boat belonging to the Harbour Master's Office, and
as soon as we had settled ourselves in the Hotel d'Angleterre at Athens (a
very good hotel) he began to make all sorts of arrangements for us--so
that instead of three days we stayed some three weeks in Athens and about
a month altogether in Greece.
[Sidenote: MARATHON]
We told Mr. Haggard that our friends were very much afraid of our finding
brigands at Marathon, or rather at their finding us. He assured us that
after the tragedy--seventeen years previously--all the brigands had been
killed and it was perfectly safe; anyhow, he took us to Marathon next day,
and we were delighted with the scenery through which we passed and with
the silent, desolate field where the battle had been waged, with wild
flowers growing on the hillock pointed out as the soldiers' grave. Whether
it still keeps its impressive solitude I know not. It is useless to
attempt description of Greece, so well known to all either from personal
experience or from hundreds of accounts both in prose and poetry, but I
may just say that as my mother (who saw it as a girl) told me, the colours
of the mountains were like those of a dove's neck, and the clearness of
the atmosphere such that one felt as if one could see through the hills.
An evening or two later we dined with Mr. Haggard and his wife, and we
were soon introduced to the various notabilities, who from the King and
Queen downwards were most kind and hospitable. To begin with their
Majesties, who entertained us at breakfast at the Royal Kiosk at the
Piraeus, and on more than one subsequent occasion at dinner, and whom we
met on various other occasions: King George had much of the charm of his
sister Queen Alexandra and was a distinctly astute monarch. As far as one
could judge, he really liked his quaint little kingdom, and I remember his
asserting with energy that they were a good people. The Queen, a Russian,
was a kindly, pious woman and apparently happy with her children, to whom
she was devoted. She then had six, but there were only three at home at
the time--Princess Alexandra, a pretty, merry girl just grown-up, and two
younger children, Marie and Andrew. Andrew was a dear little boy about six
or seven years old. When I asked Princess Marie about his birthday she
gravely replied that he was too young to have a birthday!
Greece struck me as a singularly "democratic" country in the sense that
there was really no "aristocracy" between the Sovereign and the people.
What in other countries is commonly called "Society" was in Athens mainly
composed of the Ministers, the Corps Diplomatique, and one or two rich
merchants--particularly one called Syngros, who spent large sums on public
works. One of these was the Academy, a large building with, as far as we
could ascertain, nothing as yet inside it.
The Mykenae Museum, which contained many of Schliemann's antiquities,
discovered at Argos and elsewhere, was specially interesting; but the
Greek newspaper which followed our movements and formulated our opinions
for us said that when we visited the Academy "both ladies were
enthusiastic at the sight of the building. They confessed that they never
expected to find in Athens such a beautiful building; they speak with
enthusiasm of Athens in general"--but evidently the Academy (of which I do
not think we saw the inside) was "It."
M. Tricoupi was then Prime Minister, Minister of War, and practically
Dictator. He was undoubtedly a man of great ability and judgment, and was
devoted to England. We saw him constantly and also his sister Miss
Tricoupi, a wonderful old lady.
[Sidenote: MISS TRICOUPI]
She gave up her life to promoting her brother's interests in all respects.
She appeared to me like a link with the past, as she had been with her
brother in England early in the century, and then had taken to Sarah, Lady
Jersey, as a present from King Otho, a water-colour drawing of a room in
his Palace which always hung in my bedroom at Middleton. She also knew my
grandmother and my mother's elder sisters. Whenever Parliament was sitting
she sat at home from one o'clock in the afternoon till any hour of the
night to which the debates happened to continue. Any of her brother's
supporters, no matter of what rank, could come into the large room at one
end of which she was seated. It did not appear to be necessary that she
should speak to them, much less offer them refreshments. I saw some men
who appeared to be sailors or fishermen enter and seat themselves at the
far end of the room without speaking or apparently attracting any
particular notice.
When we went to see her she gave us tea and delicious little rolled-up
pieces of bread-and-butter--this we were assured was an especial favour.
Naturally she could not have fed the whole of Athens daily! Poor woman--I
saw her again on our subsequent visit to Athens, and after that used to
correspond for nearly thirty years. She wrote most interesting letters,
though after her brother's death she lived mainly in retirement. During
the war, however, her feelings became somewhat embittered towards the
Allies; she ultimately died seated on her sofa--she never would give in to
incapacity, though she must have been very old.
One of the most amusing members of the Ministry was Theotoki, Minister of
Marine, who went with us on more than one excursion and was most kind in
providing gunboats for any destination which had to be reached by sea. I
rather think that he was of Venetian descent--he had a nice, lively wife,
and I should say that he was not averse to a little innocent flirtation.
The bachelor Tricoupi embodied all his ideals of woman in his capable and
devoted sister, and had very advanced Woman Suffrage views, more uncommon
then than a quarter of a century later. He was all in favour of the
appointment of women not only as Members of Parliament, but also as
Ministers of the Crown. One day he and Theotoki were taking us somewhere
by sea when a discussion arose on this point. Either Lady Galloway or I
wickedly suggested that women, admitted to the Cabinet, might exercise
undue influence on the minds of the male members. Tricoupi in perfect
innocence thereupon replied that it might be arranged that only _married_
men should hold such office, apparently convinced that matrimony would
make them woman-proof! I shall never forget Theotoki's expressive glance.
[Sidenote: NAUPLIA]
Dragoumi, Minister of Foreign Affairs, was one of those who gave a
dinner-party in our honour, on which occasion he and M. Tricoupi and one
of the other Ministers concocted an excellent programme to enable us to
visit Nauplia and Argos and Mykenae. I wrote an account of this to my
mother which she kept, so I may as well transcribe it, as it gives an
account of places which have probably been much altered and brought up to
date in the present day under the auspices of "Cook's Tours." I told my
mother:
"We went with Bakhmeteff the Russian and Haggard the Englishman, who
each had a Greek servant, and we having a German courier made up a
tolerably mixed lot. You would have laughed to see the three Cabinet
Ministers sitting in solemn conclave at a party the night before to
settle all details of our expedition. Theotoki, the Minister of
Marine, had a ship ready to send to meet us anywhere we liked, and
Tricoupi ordered Dragoumis, the Foreign Minister, just to go down to
send off some further telegram, which Dragoumis--a white-haired
statesman--obediently trotted off to do. The Czar of all the Russias
is not a greater autocrat than Tricoupi. When we arrived at Nauplia we
found the M.P. for that district waiting for us at the station, and he
had received orders to have the hotel thoroughly cleaned and
prepared--no one had been allowed to inhabit it for four days before
our arrival. The landlord, as far as we could make out, was locked up
in a room, whence we heard coughs and groans, presumably because he
had found a clean dwelling such a ghastly thing, and we were waited on
by a very smart individual (who was a Parisian doctor of law!) and a
small Greek girl. When we woke up next morning we found by way of
variety that the ground was covered with snow and the coachman said he
could not possibly go to Epidaurus--however, Bakhmeteff sent for the
Prefect of Police, who told him he must, so with four horses in front
and one trotting behind we went a perfectly lovely drive through
splendid mountain country looking even more beautiful from the snow on
the hills. Perhaps you don't know about Epidaurus--an ancient temple
of Aesculapius is there, and near it has lately been discovered the
most perfect theatre in Greece, which could seat twenty-five thousand
people. Hardly a stone is out of place--we went up to the top row, and
an unfortunate 'Ephor of Antiquities' who had also been ordered up
from Athens to do us the honours stood on the stage and talked to
us--one could hear every word. The Ephor and all the inhabitants of
Nauplia (who are stated by the papers to have received us 'with
affection') thought us quite mad, not only for going in the snow, but
for going in an open carriage, a circumstance also carefully recorded
in the papers. A Greek would have shut up the carriage and both
windows. Thursday we returned (i.e. to Athens) by Tiryns, Argos and
Mykenae and saw Dr. Schliemann's excavations. The Treasury of Atreus is
a marvellous thing--a great cone-shaped chamber in a hill with an
inner chamber on one side and an enormous portal with projecting walls
in front with a gigantic slab over it. Metal plates are said to have
been fastened on the walls at one time, but how on earth the
prehistoric people arranged these stones curving inwards so as to keep
in place and how they lifted some of them at all passes the wit of man
to conceive."
I continue in this letter to explain how much of all this Dr. Schliemann
and his wife did and did not find, and also to describe the "Lion Gate"
and the "Agora"--but all that is well-known and doubtless has been further
explored since our visit.
Among other dissipations at Athens we attended two balls--one at M.
Syngros', the other at the Austrian Legation. After the former a
correspondent of one of the Greek papers wrote:
"It is a curious phenomenon the gaiety with which the Prime Minister
is possessed this year. I have no doubt that he belongs to that
fortunate circle which sees with affection the setting on each day of
the Carnival. It appears that the presence of the two distinguished
English ladies who are receiving the hospitality of our town for some
days now has revived in him dormant feelings and reminiscences. M.
Tricoupi passed the years of his youth in England, and it was with the
English ladies that he enjoyed the sweet pleasure of dancing. This
evening he dances also with Lady Jersey. He frequently accompanied the
two distinguished ladies to the Buffet, and with very juvenile agility
he hastens to find for them their _sorties de bal_ with which the
noble English ladies are to protect their delicate bodies from the
indiscretion of that cold night."
M. Bakhmeteff, who was one of our companions to Nauplia, was a typical
Russian--very clever, knowing some eight or nine languages and all about
Greece ancient and modern. We used to call him the "Courier," as he was
invaluable on our various expeditions, and he seemed to enjoy his honorary
post. Like many of his compatriots he had no real religious belief, but
regarded religious observance as quite a good thing for women; he told me
that a man looked rather ridiculous kneeling, but it was a becoming
attitude for women--the folds of her dress fell so nicely! But he assured
me that if I saw him on duty in Russia I should see him kissing the ikons
with all reverence. Poor man! If still alive, I wonder what has happened
to him. He lent me a capital Japanese costume for the ball at the Austrian
Legation. Lady Galloway went as "Dresden china" or a "_bouquetiere_."
[Sidenote: THE LAURIUM MINES]
We made a very interesting expedition to the Laurium mines, of which I
subsequently ventured to give an account in _The National Review_, but
again I think it unnecessary here to describe a well-known enterprise--the
revival in modern days of lead mines worked in classical times. We stayed
the night at the house of the manager, M. Cordella. He and his wife were
most kindly hosts, and everyone contributed to our enjoyment. One little
domestic detail amused us. As we entered the substantial and comfortable
house one of us exclaimed to the other, "Oh, there is a bath!"--a luxury
not always found in our wanderings--but a second glance showed us that we
should have to wait till our return to the hotel next day, as the bath was
fixed in the well of the staircase!
As for our sentiments about the mines I cannot do better than quote the
words of the _N ea Ephemeris_, one of the papers which knew so well what
we thought on each occasion:
"The eminently English spirit of the most ingenious and noble ladies
saw in all those works something like the positiveness of the spirit
that prevails in their own country and were delighted at it in Greece
which they loved so much. They had no words to express their
satisfaction to the true man possessed with the spirit of our century
whom they found in the person of M. Cordella, the director of the
works, and to his worthy wife, who tendered to them so many nice
attentions."
This, the _Hora_, and the _Acropolis_, seem to have been the chief
Government papers, and occasionally one of them would hold up to contempt
a wretched Delyannis organ which basely ignored the presence of the
English Prime Minister's sister!
I cannot record all our excursions to Eleusis, Aegina, and elsewhere, but
I will add a few lines describing the general appearance of the people at
that time, also written to my mother, as probably they have greatly
changed in over thirty years:
"The Peloponnesian shepherds look remarkably picturesque, as they wear
large white coats with peaked hoods over their heads. Further north
the coats are more often blue--near Athens black and a different
shape--near Eleusis the people are Albanians and wear Albanian
costumes, which are very bright with many colours. Almost all the
natives outside the towns wear costumes which make the villages look
like places in plays, and every little inn is a regular picture--but
the country is very thinly populated and you go for miles without
seeing a soul. It is most beautiful."
[Sidenote: HADJI PETROS]
One rather interesting character was the Lord Chamberlain, an old
gentleman called Hadji Petros, son of the original brigand who was one of
the husbands of Lady Ellenborough, and is the thinly disguised "Hadji
Stavros" of About's novel _Le Roi des Montagnes_. Hadji Petros was
supposed to be quite illiterate, but he _could_ sign his name, as he did
so on a case of chocolate which he gave me. Anyway, "by royal permission"
he took us over the Palace and down into the kitchens, where he showed us
the correct method of making Turkish coffee. His son, we were told, was a
very smart young officer who led cotillons at the Athenian balls--two
generations from the original brigand.
We left Athens on February 22nd, and were taken by ship from a port near
Patras at the end of the Gulf of Corinth to Pyrgos. We went in a
Government boat (the _Salaminia_, I believe), and it was arranged that we
should stay with the Demarch (Mayor) and drive thence to see Olympia.
Fortunately for us M. Bakhmeteff accompanied us, and the whole thing was
very entertaining. The officers on the ship thought it too absurd that we
should want to take off even hand luggage for the night, as they said we
should find everything we wanted at the Demarch's. Sure enough we found
three elaborate sitting-rooms adorned with photographs and chairs tied up
with ribbons, a bedroom with two comfortable beds and plenty of
pin-cushions, and a dressing-room provided with tooth-brushes, sponges,
and dentifrice water, but as means of washing one small green glass jug
and basin between us. However, we managed to borrow two large, red
earthenware pans from the kitchen and got on nicely. The Demarch was more
than kind and hospitable, but as he knew no language save his native Greek
it was lucky that Bakhmeteff was there to interpret. We landed too late
for Olympia that evening, so we were taken down to a most romantic and
desolate spot, where Alpheus runs into the sea in full view of the
Acroceraunian mountains where "Arethusa arose from her couch of snows." In
addition to one or two officials we were guarded by a delightful gendarme
and were introduced to a bare-legged giant in an oil-skin coat whose duty
was to look after the fish in a kind of stew or watercourse running out of
a lake. Whether the poachers had been busy lately I know not, but the
efforts of the custodian, the gendarme, and the rest of the party to give
us a fishing entertainment were singularly abortive. Their object appeared
to be to capture a mullet, and at length a dead one was landed by the
joint throwing of a small net and poking with Lady Galloway's parasol.
With dauntless courage they returned to the charge, and when another small
fish was seen the gendarme drew his sword and vainly tried to stab it.
Ultimately the professional fishermen did catch it and gave it to the
gendarme, who skipped about with glee. He had seen me put some shells in
my pocket, and apparently thought we should like to do the same with the
fish, so proceeded to _wash_ it--and naturally let it escape. Next day the
Demarch told M. Bakhmeteff that he had ordered an open carriage for the
ladies (knowing our lunatic tendencies) and that he would take him
(Bakhmeteff) in a shut one. Bakhmeteff came to us in a frantic state of
mind and begged our authority to say that English ladies could not
possibly go in a carriage alone--so ultimately we three proceeded in the
open carriage with our gendarme on the box, and the Demarch followed with
his servant. All went well till it began to rain, when our gallant
defender jumped off the box and into the shut carriage with the Demarch
and the other man. They put up both windows and I believe smoked, only
leaving a little breathing-hole in front. Doubtless they enjoyed
themselves immensely--so did we.
[Sidenote: OLYMPIA--ZANTE]
As with other well-known places, I omit all description of Olympia,
reached by a road concerning which we decided that it would be a
compliment to compare it to a ploughed field. The drive took four hours
each way. I dare say there are hotels and chars-a-bancs if not trams now,
but I am very glad to recall Olympia, as we saw it in the wilds with ruins
of temples and the newly excavated Gymnasium undisturbed by eager
tourists. The Museum, containing the beautiful statue of Hermes with the
Infant Bacchus, had not long been erected on the lines of a Greek temple.
By way of an additional treat our hosts had roasted a lamb whole and
brought it into the outer hall of the Museum on a stick regardless of the
mess which it made. We made futile efforts to protect the floor with
newspapers, but were obliged to eat some of the meat.
From Pyrgos we went to the Island of Zante, where we spent Sunday. I wrote
to my mother that it was a most lovely place--and told her:
"We took some luncheon up into an olive grove on the hills and lay on
cushions there in the most perfect air and warmth you can imagine,
with birds singing and the greenest grass thick with flowers just like
the Pre-Raphaelite pictures. A little higher up you could see the sea
on both sides. Cephalonia in one distance and the Acroceraunian
mountains in the other. This island is, as you know, famous for
flowers, and the nosegays the Consul sent us were so enormous that
after filling all the vases, etc., we could we had to fill two large
foot pans and put them on the balcony."
Of Cephalonia, where we spent a few hours on our way to Corfu, my chief
recollection is of wild mountainous country. The Consul (or Vice-Consul)
who took us for a drive told us a thrilling tale--as yet unconcluded--of
two rival families. The father of one married his daughter to a young man,
whereas the other family wanted her and attacked the bridal party on the
wedding day. I forget exactly how many people they killed, but I think the
bridegroom was among the victims, and anyhow they carried off the young
lady to the mountains, and she was still there at the time of our visit.
Corfu was very delightful--but I recall no particular incident. There
seemed to be a good many people who still regretted that Mr. Gladstone had
handed it over to Greece.
Our gunboat and M. Bakhmeteff had left us at Zante, and from Corfu we went
by an Austrian Lloyd steamer to Brindisi; thence by train to Naples. There
we found Lord Rowton and dined with him and one or two friends. We also
spent a day with him in Rome, where he was a good deal amused by our
evident feeling that Roman were not to be compared to Greek antiquities.