Occupation at Athens--Mount Pentilicus--We descend into the Caverns--
Return to Athens--A Greek Contract of Marriage--Various Athenian and
Albanian Superstitions--Effect of their Impression on the Genius of
the Poet
During his residence at Athens, Lord Byron made almost daily
excursions on horseback, chiefly for exercise and to see the
localities of celebrated spots. He affected to have no taste for the
arts, and he certainly took but little pleasure in the examination of
the ruins.
The marble quarry of Mount Pentilicus, from which the materials for
the temples and principal edifices of Athens are supposed to have
been brought, was, in those days, one of the regular staple
curiosities of Greece. This quarry is a vast excavation in the side
of the hill; a drapery of woodbine hangs like the festoons of a
curtain over the entrance; the effect of which, seen from the
outside, is really worth looking at, but not worth the trouble of
riding three hours over a road of rude and rough fragments to see:
the interior is like that of any other cavern. To this place I one
day was induced to accompany the two travellers.
We halted at a monastery close by the foot of the mountain, where we
procured a guide, and ate a repast of olives and fried eggs. Dr
Chandler says that the monks, or caloyers, of this convent are
summoned to prayers by a tune which is played on a piece of an iron
hoop; and, on the outside of the church, we certainly saw a piece of
crooked iron suspended. When struck, it uttered a bell-like sound,
by which the hour of prayer was announced. What sort of tune could
be played on such an instrument the doctor has judiciously left his
readers to imagine.
When we reached the mouth of the grotto, by that "very bad track"
which the learned personage above mentioned clambered up, we saw the
ruins of the building which the doctor at first thought had been
possibly a hermit's cell; but which, upon more deliberate reflection,
he became of opinion "was designed, perhaps, for a sentinel to look
out, and regulate, by signals, the approach of the men and teams
employed in carrying marble to the city." This, we agreed, was a
very sagacious conjecture. It was, indeed, highly probable that
sentinels were appointed to regulate, by signals, the manoeuvres of
carts coming to fetch away stones.
Having looked at the outside of the quarry, and the guide having
lighted candles, we entered into the interior, and beheld on all
sides what Dr Chandler saw, "chippings of marble." We then
descended, consecutively, into a hole, just wide enough to let a man
pass; and when we had descended far enough, we found ourselves in a
cell, or cave; it might be some ten or twelve feet square. Here we
stopped, and, like many others who had been there before us,
attempted to engrave our names. Mine was without success; Lord
Byron's was not much better; but Mr Hobhouse was making some progress
to immortality, when the blade of his knife snapped, or shutting
suddenly, cut his finger. These attempts having failed, we inscribed
our initials on the ceiling with the smoke of our candles. After
accomplishing this notable feat, we got as well out of the scrape as
we could, and returned to Athens by the village of Callandris. In
the evening, after dinner, as there happened to be a contract of
marriage performing in the neighbourhood, we went to see the
ceremony.
Between the contract and espousal two years are generally permitted
to elapse among the Greeks in the course of which the bride,
according to the circumstances of her relations, prepares domestic
chattels for her future family. The affections are rarely consulted
on either side, for the mother of the bridegroom commonly arranges
the match for her son. In this case, the choice had been evidently
made according to the principle on which Mrs Primrose chose her
wedding gown; viz. for the qualities that would wear well. For the
bride was a stout household quean; her face painted with vermilion,
and her person arrayed in uncouth embroidered garments.
Unfortunately, we were disappointed of seeing the ceremony, as it was
over before we arrived.
This incident led me to inquire particularly into the existing usages
and customs of the Athenians; and I find in the notes of my journal
of the evening of that day's adventures, a memorandum of a curious
practice among the Athenian maidens when they become anxious to get
husbands. On the first evening of the new moon, they put a little
honey, a little salt, and a piece of bread on a plate, which they
leave at a particular spot on the east bank of the Ilissus, near the
Stadium, and muttering some ancient words, to the effect that Fate
may send them a handsome young man, return home, and long for the
fulfilment of the charm. On mentioning this circumstance to the
travellers, one of them informed me, that above the spot where these
offerings are made, a statue of Venus, according to Pausanias,
formerly stood. It is, therefore, highly probable that what is now a
superstitious, was anciently a religious rite.
At this period my fellow-passengers were full of their adventures in
Albania. The country was new, and the inhabitants had appeared to
them a bold and singular race. In addition to the characteristic
descriptions which I have extracted from Lord Byron's notes, as well
as Mr Hobhouse's travels, I am indebted to them, as well as to
others, for a number of memoranda obtained in conversation, which
they have themselves neglected to record, but which probably became
unconsciously mingled with the recollections of both; at least, I can
discern traces of them in different parts of the poet's works.
The Albanians are a race of mountaineers, and it has been often
remarked that mountaineers, more than any other people, are attached
to their native land, while no other have so strong a thirst of
adventure. The affection which they cherish for the scenes of their
youth tends, perhaps, to excite their migratory spirit. For the
motive of their adventures is to procure the means of subsisting in
ease at home.
This migratory humour is not, however, universal to the Albanians,
but applies only to those who go in quest of rural employment, and
who are found in a state of servitude among even the Greeks. It
deserves, however, to be noticed, that with the Greeks they rarely
ever mix or intermarry, and that they retain both their own national
dress and manners unchanged among them. Several of their customs are
singular. It is, for example, in vain to ask a light or any fire
from the houses of the Albanians after sunset, if the husband or head
of the family be still afield; a custom in which there is more of
police regulation than of superstition, as it interdicts a plausible
pretext for entering the cottages in the obscurity of twilight, when
the women are defenceless by the absence of the men.
Some of their usages, with respect to births, baptisms, and burials,
are also curious. When the mother feels the fulness of time at hand,
the priestess of Lucina, the midwife, is duly summoned, and she comes
bearing in her hand a tripod, better known as a three-legged stool,
the uses of which are only revealed to the initiated. She is
received by the matronly friends of the mother, and begins the
mysteries by opening every lock and lid in the house. During this
ceremony the maiden females are excluded.
The rites which succeed the baptism of a child are still more
recondite. Four or five days after the christening, the midwife
prepares, with her own mystical hands, certain savoury messes,
spreads a table, and places them on it. She then departs, and all
the family, leaving the door open, in silence retire to sleep. This
table is covered for the Miri of the child, an occult being, that is
supposed to have the care of its destiny. In the course of the
night, if the child is to be fortunate, the Miri comes and partakes
of the feast, generally in the shape of a cat; but if the Miri do not
come, nor taste of the food, the child is considered to have been
doomed to misfortune and misery; and no doubt the treatment it
afterwards receives is consonant to its evil predestination.
The Albanians have, like the vulgar of all countries, a species of
hearth or household superstitions, distinct from their wild and
imperfect religion. They imagine that mankind, after death, become
voorthoolakases, and often pay visits to their friends and foes for
the same reasons, and in the same way, that our own country ghosts
walk abroad; and their visiting hour is, also, midnight. But the
collyvillory is another sort of personage. He delights in mischief
and pranks, and is, besides, a lewd and foul spirit; and, therefore,
very properly detested. He is let loose on the night of the
nativity, with licence for twelve nights to plague men's wives; at
which time some one of the family must keep wakeful vigil all the
livelong night, beside a clear and cheerful fire, otherwise this
naughty imp would pour such an aqueous stream on the hearth, that
fire could never be kindled there again.
The Albanians are also pestered with another species of malignant
creatures; men and women whose gifts are followed by misfortunes,
whose eyes glimpse evil, and by whose touch the most prosperous
affairs are blasted. They work their malicious sorceries in the
dark, collect herbs of baleful influence; by the help of which, they
strike their enemies with palsy, and cattle with distemper. The
males are called maissi, and the females maissa--witches and
warlocks.
Besides these curious superstitious peculiarities, they have among
them persons who pretend to know the character of approaching events
by hearing sounds which resemble those that shall accompany the
actual occurrence. Having, however, given Lord Byron's account of
the adventure of his servant Dervish, at Cape Colonna, it is
unnecessary to be more particular with the subject here. Indeed, but
for the great impression which everything about the Albanians made on
the mind of the poet, the insertion of these memoranda would be
irrelevant. They will, however, serve to elucidate several
allusions, not otherwise very clear, in those poems of which the
scenes are laid in Greece; and tend, in some measure, to confirm the
correctness of the opinion, that his genius is much more indebted to
facts and actual adventures, than to the force of his imagination.
Many things regarded in his most original productions, as fancies and
invention, may be traced to transactions in which he was himself a
spectator or an actor. The impress of experience is vivid upon them
all.