Leave Utraikee--Dangerous Pass in the Woods--Catoona--Quarrel between
the Guard and Primate of the Village--Makala--Gouri--Missolonghi--
Parnassus
Having spent the night at Utraikee, Byron and his friend continued
their journey southward. The reports of the state of the country
induced them to take ten additional soldiers with them, as their road
for the first two hours lay through dangerous passes in the forest.
On approaching these places fifteen or twenty of the party walked
briskly on before, and when they had gone through the pass halted
until the travellers came up. In the woods two or three green spots
were discovered on the road-side, and on them Turkish tombstones,
generally under a clump of trees, and near a well or fountain.
When they had passed the forest they reached an open country, whence
they sent back the ten men whom they had brought from Utraikee. They
then passed on to a village called Catoona, where they arrived by
noon. It was their intention to have proceeded farther that day, but
their progress was interrupted by an affair between their Albanian
guard and the primate of the village. As they were looking about,
while horses were collecting to carry their luggage, one of the
soldiers drew his sword at the primate, the Greek head magistrate;
guns were cocked, and in an instant, before either Lord Byron or Mr
Hobhouse could stop the affray, the primate, throwing off his shoes
and cloak, fled so precipitately that he rolled down the hill and
dislocated his shoulder. It was a long time before they could
persuade him to return to his house, where they lodged, and when he
did return he remarked that he cared comparatively little about his
shoulder to the loss of a purse with fifteen sequins, which had
dropped out of his pocket during the tumble. The hint was
understood.
Catoona is inhabited by Greeks only, and is a rural, well-built
village. The primate's house was neatly fitted up with sofas. Upon
a knoll, in the middle of the village, stood a schoolhouse, and from
that spot the view was very extensive. To the west are lofty
mountains, ranging from north to south, near the coast; to the east a
grand romantic prospect in the distance, and in the foreground a
green valley, with a considerable river winding through a long line
of country.
They had some difficulty in procuring horses at Catoona, and in
consequence were detained until past eleven o'clock the next morning,
and only travelled four hours that day to Makala, a well-built stone
village, containing about forty houses distinct from each other, and
inhabited by Greeks, who were a little above the condition of
peasants, being engaged in pasturage and a small wool-trade.
The travellers were now in Carnia, where they found the inhabitants
much better lodged than in the Albanian villages. The house in which
they slept at this place resembled those old mansions which are to be
met with in the bottoms of the Wiltshire Downs. Two green courts,
one before and the other behind, were attached to it, and the whole
was surrounded by a high and thick wall, which shut out the prospect,
but was necessary in a country so frequently overrun by strong bands
of freebooters.
From Makala they proceeded through the woods, and in the course of
their journey passed three new-made graves, which the Albanians
pointing at as they rode by, said they were "robbers." In the course
of the journey they had a distant view of the large town of Vraikore,
on the left bank of the Aspro, but they did not approach it, crossing
the river by a ferry to the village of Gouria, where they passed the
night.
Leaving that place in the morning, they took an easterly direction,
and continued to ride across a plain of cornfields, near the banks of
the river, in a rich country; sometimes over stone causeways, and
between the hedges of gardens and olive-groves, until they were
stopped by the sea. This was that fruitful region formerly called
Paracheloitis, which, according to classic allegory, was drained or
torn from the river Achelous, by the perseverance of Hercules and
presented by him for a nuptial present to the daughter of Oeneus.
The water at which they had now arrived was rather a salt marsh than
the sea, a shallow bay stretching from the mouth of the Gulf of
Lepanto into the land for several miles. Having dismissed their
horses, they passed over in boats to Natolico, a town which stood in
the water. Here they fell in with a hospitable Jew, who made himself
remembered by saying that he was honoured in their having partaken of
his little misery.
Natolico, where they stayed for the night, was a well-built town; the
houses of timber, chiefly of two stories, and about six hundred in
number. Having sent on their baggage in boats, they themselves
proceeded to the town of Missolonghi, so celebrated since as having
suffered greatly during the recent rebellion of the Greeks, but more
particularly as the place where Lord Byron died.
Missolonghi is situated on the south side of the salt marsh or
shallow, along the north coast of the Gulf of Corinth, nearly
opposite to Patras. It is a dull, and I should think an unwholesome
place. The marsh, for miles on each side, has only from a foot to
two feet of water on it, but there is a channel for boats marked out
by perches. When I was there the weather was extremely wet, and I
had no other opportunity of seeing the character of the adjacent
country than during the intervals of the showers. It was green and
pastoral, with a short skirt of cultivation along the bottom of the
hills.
Abrupt and rapid as the foregoing sketch of the journey through
Albania has been, it is evident from the novelty of its circumstances
that it could not be performed without leaving deep impressions on
the susceptible mind of the poet. It is impossible, I think, not to
allow that far more of the wildness and romantic gloom of his
imagination was derived from the incidents of this tour, than from
all the previous experience of his life. The scenes he visited, the
characters with whom he became familiar, and above all, the chartered
feelings, passions, and principles of the inhabitants, were greatly
calculated to supply his mind with rare and valuable poetical
materials. It is only in this respect that the details of his
travels are interesting.--Considered as constituting a portion of the
education of his genius, they are highly curious, and serve to show
how little, after all, of great invention is requisite to make
interesting and magnificent poetry.
From Missolonghi the travellers passed over the Gulf of Corinth to
Patras, then a rude, half-ruined, open town with a fortress on the
top of a hill; and on the 4th of December, in the afternoon, they
proceeded towards Corinth, but halted at Vostizza, the ancient
AEgium, where they obtained their first view of Parnassus, on the
opposite side of the gulf; rising high above the other peaks of that
hilly region, and capped with snow. It probably was during this
first visit to Vostizza that the Address to Parnassus was suggested.
Oh, thou Parnassus! whom I now survey
Not in the frensy of a dreamer's eye,
Not in the fabled landscape of a lay,
But soaring snow-clad through thy native sky,
In the wild pomp of mountain majesty!
What marvel if I thus essay to sing?
The humblest of thy pilgrims passing by
Would gladly woo thine echoes with his string,
Though from thy heights no more one muse will wave her wing.
Oft have I dream'd of thee! whose glorious name
Who knows not, knows not man's divinest lore;
And now I view thee, 'tis, alas! with shame
That I in feeblest accents must adore.
When I recount thy worshippers of yore
I tremble, and can only bend the knee;
Nor raise my voice, nor vainly dare to soar,
But gaze beneath thy cloudy canopy
In silent joy, to think at last I look on thee.