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 in 2018 with funding from 
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JLH ® SI ,K@ W. dL M SC Su 
 
A 
 
 SHORT VISIT 
 
 TO 
 
 THE IONIAN ISLANDS, 
 
 ATHENS, AND THE MORE A. 
 
 EDWARD GIFFARD, Esq., 
 
 OF PEMB. CODE. OXON. 
 
 The Khan of VourVa 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 
 
 MDCCCXXXVII, 
 
LONDON: 
 
 Printed by William Clovyes and Sons, 
 
 Stamford Street. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introduction 
 
 Page 
 
 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Coast of Portugal, Cadiz, Gibraltar, and a Day 
 in Spain «... 5 
 
 [3rd to lltli of January.] 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Coast of Africa, Malta, and Voyage amongst 
 the Ionian Isles . . .28 
 
 [12th to 21st of January.] 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Corfu . 
 
 [22nd to 29th of January.] 
 
 50 
 
IV 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 Page 
 
 Patras — Parnassus — Delphi — Corinth — 
 Coasting Voyage round Salamis . 76 
 
 [30th January to 3rd of February.] 
 
 CHAPTER VE 
 
 Peiraeus and Athens . . . Ill 
 
 [4th and 5 th of February.] 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Athens—New Palace—Areiopagus—Ball 177 
 
 [6th of February.] 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Athens — Population—Schools— Modern 
 
 Language and Costume . . 191 
 
 [6th of February.] 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Peiraeus—Tomb of Themistocles — Egina— 
 Epidaurus .... 207 
 
 [7th of February.] 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Iero — Napoli — Travelling Arrangements— 
 Palamede .... 228 
 
 [9th and 10ih of February.] 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Tiryns—Mycenae—Argos—Ball at Napoli— 
 Lernaean Marsh—Tegea 
 
 Tripolitza - 
 
 [11th and 12th of February.] 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 —Climate— Snow-Storm—Vourlia 
 
 —Eurotas—Mistra and Sparta 
 
 [13th, 14th, and 15th of February.] 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Mountain Journey — Londari — Sakona— 
 Mount Ithome , 
 
 Messene — 
 
 [16th and 17th of February.] 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 -Its early History — Arcadia — 
 
 Mount Lycaeus—Tragoge 
 
 Phigaleia— 
 
 [17th and 18th of February.] 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 -Columns of Bassae—Audritzena— 
 
 Olympia—Pyrgo—Embarkation 
 
 [19th, 20th, 21st, and 22nd of February J 
 
Vi CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 Page 
 
 Mr. Johnstone’s Tour—Athens—Thebes — 
 
 Marathon .... 359 
 
 [22nd of February to 7th of March.] 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Zante—Quarantine—Pitch Springs—Return 382 
 
 [22nd of February to 2nd of March.] 
 
DIRECTIONS FOR PLACING THE PLATES. 
 
 The newly-discovered Temple of Victory, 
 
 Athens . . Frontispiece. 
 
 The Khan of Vourlia . . Title Vignette. 
 
 M a P • • . to face p. 1 
 
 Corfu, the Sail of Ulysses . . go 
 
 Gulf of Lepanto from Corinth . , 102 
 
 Stoa of Adrian, Athens . . 117 
 
 Mistra and Taygetus from the Ruins of 
 
 Sparta .... 300 
 
 Temple of Apollo near Phigaleia . 341 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 Page Line 
 
 14 7, for and read where. 
 
 40 16, for de read di. 
 
 48 14, for passing read passed. 
 
 69 1, for step read skip. 
 
 Ill, last, for name read title. 
 
 113 18, for reeks read Greeks. 
 
 120 13, for xeu read you. 
 
 186 13, after alas! add was : 
 
 203 19, for future tense read past and future tenses. 
 
 205 15, for it read he. 
 
 211 3, after times add called. 
 
 216 8, for the Athenians read Athens. 
 
 225 16, for Pidayra read Pidavro. 
 
 331 19, for Capelles read capeliis. 
 
 342 13, for de read di. 
 
 360 10, for direction read march. 
 
 361, note, for titles read title. 
 
 365 et seq. passim, for Piraeus read Peiraeus. 
 
 366 7, omit any. 
 
 379 11, for Miltiades read Greeks. 
 
 389 13, for Levanti read Levante. 
 
 The Plate referred to in page 132 is placed as the 
 Frontispiece. 
 
A SHORT VISIT 
 
 TO 
 
 THE IONIAN ISLANDS, 
 ATHENS, 
 
 AND 
 
 THE MORE A. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 I NT RODUCTION. 
 
 Having been medically advised to pass a 
 couple of months of the last winter in a 
 more southern climate* and particularly re¬ 
 commended to begin by a sea voyage,—the 
 facilities which steam communication now 
 affords of navigating the Mediterranean, 
 and the hope of being able to combine the 
 main object of health with the gratification 
 of an ardent desire to visit the classical 
 scenes of Greece, determined me and Mr 
 Newton—a college friend, and unfortu- 
 
 B 
 
2 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 natelv a fellow sufferer—to direct our 
 
 «/ 
 
 course that way. 
 
 Notwithstanding an unparalleled se¬ 
 verity of weather which we encountered in 
 the Morea, and the shortness of the period 
 allotted to me, we had the good fortune to 
 succeed in Loth our objects. We got rid 
 of the disagreeable symptoms which had 
 originally suggested the voyage, and we 
 visited many of the most remarkable and 
 interesting scenes and cities of classical 
 Greece. 
 
 Had our departure been less sudden and 
 our destination more certain, we might 
 have compiled (as I should advise any 
 future traveller to do) Irom the learned 
 works of Clarke, Leake, Dodwell, and 
 Gell, and some recent itineraries, a plan 
 for our journey, so as by economizing both 
 time and expense, to have been enabled to 
 see the greatest number of interesting 
 objects with the least cost and trouble. 
 
 We unfortunately were not able to make 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 3 
 
 any preparation of that sort, and were 
 sometimes obliged to trust ourselves to the 
 guidance of chance, or of local advice 
 given with an eye to the profit of the coun¬ 
 sellor rather than ours. On a review, how¬ 
 ever, of our proceedings, we do not find 
 much to regret; and, as it is possible that 
 other persons may be, from motives of 
 health or pleasure, inclined to make a simi¬ 
 lar excursion, I have thought,—-without 
 pretending to anything like authorship on 
 my own part, or to supersede the necessity 
 of consulting the learned authors I have 
 mentioned,—that a plain narrative of what 
 we were enabled to see during a three 
 months’ absence from England, might be 
 of some use to future travellers, and per¬ 
 haps not unamusing even to others, whose 
 interest in the scenes we visited may ren¬ 
 der them indulgent to the insufficiency of 
 the describer. 
 
 If my pen had any share of the power 
 of my companion’s pencil, I might speak 
 
 b 2 
 
4 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 with less diffidence; for nothing can ex¬ 
 ceed the rapidity, spirit, and accuracy of 
 the sketches which Mr. Newton made 
 during our tour. They bring the scenes 
 hack to the memory with all the vividness 
 of reality; and he has added to the plea¬ 
 sure I derived from his company, the ad¬ 
 vantage of allowing me to have some of 
 them engraved, to illustrate my narrative. 
 
 The nature of this little work does not 
 admit of introducing them in adequate size 
 or number, hut half a dozen scenes have 
 been selected—not as the most picturesque, 
 but as being either less generally knoAvn, or 
 of a particularly characteristic aspect: but 
 these engravings, like my own imperfect 
 descriptions, afford but faint copies of the 
 vivid originals. 
 
 O 
 
5 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 COAST OF PORTUGAL, CADIZ, GIBRALTAR, AND A 
 DAY IN SPAIN. 
 
 [3rd to 11th ok January.] 
 
 About eleven o’clock on the morning of 
 Sunday the 3rd of January, 1836, we em¬ 
 barked on board H. M. steam-packet 
 Hermes , in Carrick Roads, about a mile 
 from Falmouth, whence we were conveyed 
 by boats supplied by the several inns at 
 which the passengers may put up, at what 
 seems the exorbitant charge of half a 
 guinea each person. We sailed about 
 three o’clock, but in general the departure 
 follows the embarkation more nearly; the 
 previous dispatch of two other packets 
 somewhat retarded ours. 
 
6 
 
 STEAM PACKET. 
 
 We found assembled various passengers 
 bound for the several ports of Cadiz, Gi¬ 
 braltar, Malta, and the different Grecian 
 Isles at which the steamer was to touch. 
 We ourselves had as yet no determined 
 haven, but intended to be governed by cir¬ 
 cumstances—entertaining, however, as our 
 first hope and object, if it should be found 
 practicable, a visit to Greece. 
 
 The packet was new, comfortable, and 
 spacious, with a cabin some thirty feet long 
 and nine feet six high, which for a ship is 
 colossal. Our fellow prisoners were agree¬ 
 able and pleasant companions, and our fare 
 was good ; in short, there was nothing to 
 complain of, except, for two or three days, 
 the intolerable, and to those who have not 
 felt it, the unimaginable horror of sea sick¬ 
 ness. The penalty which I had paid on 
 a recent voyage to and from the West 
 Indies, stood to my credit on this occasion, 
 and I suffered less than my companions: 
 but our society in general did not recover 
 
COAST OF PORTUGAL. 
 
 rr 
 
 I 
 
 its tone till we had crossed the Hay (as 
 that of Biscay is distinctively called) and 
 approached the coast of Portugal. 
 
 To us, whose only business was sight - 
 seeing , it was a great disappointment that 
 the weather w T as unfavourable for seeing 
 the coast; though passing within a few 
 miles, the clouds concealed not only its 
 beauties, if it had any, but even its outline 
 —one momentary burst of sunshine lighted 
 up the palace of Mafra and the heights 
 of Torres Vedras, but only sufficiently 
 to tantalize us with a transient glance, and 
 all w r as cloud again. 
 
 We stood on deck straining our eyes to 
 discover the features of the land, but, even 
 when the sky cleared a little, we saw 
 nothing but a series of by no means lofty 
 cliffs, surmounted by a kind of table-land. 
 It was not to be expected that in any state 
 of the weather w ? e could have had any dis¬ 
 tinct view of the scenery, yet I confess we 
 w ent below rather sulkily when the night 
 
8 
 
 CAPE ST. VTNCENT. 
 
 fell, and the receding lights on either side 
 of the entrance of the Tagus told us that 
 we had left Lisbon behind. 
 
 Early next morning we passed Cape St. 
 Vincent, the south-western point of Portu¬ 
 gal—a bold and rocky promontory, which 
 has given its name to a great naval victory 
 —and to a later engagement, which I think 
 it would have been better taste to have dis¬ 
 tinguished by some unoccupied title : and 
 at night anchored in Cadiz harbour. We 
 of course rose at daylight, and had ample 
 leisure of viewing the sea front of the town 
 before the sanita or quarantine officers 
 came off; in vain gun after gun was fired, 
 we found that there was no hurrying a 
 Spaniard out of his usual course, and it 
 was not until we had consumed more than 
 an hour anxiously looking at the shore, 
 that they made their appearance and 
 granted us pratique —as release for quaran¬ 
 tine is technically called. 
 
 Cadiz has been so often described, that 
 
CADIZ. 
 
 9 
 
 my doing so would be superfluous—luckily 
 —for our stay was so short that my de¬ 
 scription would be of very little value. 
 
 The general aspect of the town is pleas¬ 
 ing, the rows of white and regularly built 
 houses appear as if washed by the sea, like 
 an English watering-place—the ramparts 
 looking from a little distance almost like a 
 terrace to the houses. We landed at a pier, 
 (on which stand two twisted columns with 
 statues on their summits,) from one of the 
 picturesque lateen-rigged boats, which— 
 presenting a variety of shapes as their sails 
 happen to be higher up or lower down the 
 mast,—were skimming about like large sea 
 birds in every direction. 
 
 Four hours only being allowed for the 
 stay of the packet, we lost no time in com¬ 
 mencing our promenade. Through the 
 sea gates we entered upon the fruit and 
 vegetable market—even at this season, sup¬ 
 plied with what are delicacies with us at 
 midsummer; from this to the Cathedral— 
 
 b 3 
 
10 
 
 CADIZ. 
 
 you must specially ask for the new Cathe¬ 
 dral, or you may share the disappointment 
 of a friend of mine who returned to Eng¬ 
 land, haying, as he supposed, seen the Ca¬ 
 thedral of Cadiz, whereas he had seen the 
 old Cathedral, a building of no beautjr, 
 though loaded with a profusion of gilding. 
 The new is a small edifice of the most per¬ 
 fect and expensive materials and workman¬ 
 ship—small for a Cathedral, though large 
 for a church—it is built altogether of 
 marble, chiefly white, but the bases of the 
 pillars, &c., are of various colours ; the in¬ 
 terior of the dome is peculiarly beautiful. 
 It was begun in 1722, and although con¬ 
 siderable progress has been made in the 
 last twenty-five years, it is still unfinished, 
 and I am afraid it will remain so while 
 Spain continues to be what Spain now is. 
 
 Having heard that there were two of 
 Murillo’s finest pictures in the Capucine 
 convent, we applied for admission, but it 
 not being the proper day were refused ; pro - 
 
CADIZ. 
 
 11 
 
 per days were fixed, I presume, before steam, 
 had rendered a visit to Cadiz an incident of 
 every-day occurrence. In general the pos¬ 
 sessors of objects of art are not churlish, and 
 when the good fathers find that the steam¬ 
 boat passengers cannot command their day, 
 they will probably make a regulation in 
 their favour. After this we set off to walk 
 round the ramparts and take a peep inland 
 from the Seville Gate, whence, however, 
 there is not much to see—the isthmus is 
 little more than a causeway, above three 
 miles in length, and the distant country 
 looks wild and barren. Within the town, 
 the fortifications and barracks are greatly 
 dilapidated, and everything appeared to 
 show a total absence of activity and energy. 
 
 Our time had been fully expended in 
 this ramble, and we hurried down to our 
 boat, but owing to a change of wind, were 
 unable to reach the packet without stretch¬ 
 ing out to sea, where she took us up in 
 passing; if we had been admitted to the 
 
12 
 
 GIBRALTAR. 
 
 Capucine convent, we might probably have 
 been left behind. In travelling, more 
 even than in the ordinary course of life, it 
 seems that every disappointment has its 
 compensation. 
 
 Our intention on leaving England had 
 been to cross from Cadiz to Gibraltar by 
 land , and so to have seen a little of the 
 interior of Spain; but those who were ac¬ 
 quainted with the country recommended us 
 not to try it, on account both of the late 
 rains, which had rendered the roads and 
 rivers almost impassable, and of the un¬ 
 settled state of the country, which made it 
 highly probable that we should be captured 
 by bandits and taken up into the moun¬ 
 tains for ransom—an accident which, with 
 all our curiosity about Spain, we had no 
 desire to encounter. It does seem strange, 
 and certainly characteristic of the habits 
 and government of Spain, that between 
 two such cities as Cadiz and Gibraltar, 
 the roads should be liable to such inter- 
 
GIBRALTAR. 
 
 13 
 
 ruptions. We, therefore, perforce con¬ 
 tented ourselves with our packet, and in 
 about nine hours reached Gibraltar. 
 
 Sunday , 10 th January. This morning 
 we landed at daylight at the New Mole, 
 and thence trudged through the mire 
 to the town. The Rock , as it is appro¬ 
 priately called by the residents, is a lofty 
 promontory, inaccessibly steep on the north 
 and east—the sides facing the Mediter¬ 
 ranean and Spain, and connected with the 
 latter hy a low sandy isthmus called the 
 Neutral Ground, about 800 or 900 yards 
 across, and very little elevated above the 
 surface of the water: the town is situated 
 at the western foot of the rock, on the edge 
 of that part of the Atlantic called the Bay 
 of Gibraltar, or Algesiras ; and extends 
 nearly a mile along the shore, the back 
 part rising so steeply, that some of the 
 streets are but flights of steps. 
 
 The space between the southern or 
 Europa Point and the town is occupied 
 
14 
 
 GIBRALTAR. 
 
 by the Almeda, or mall—the public gar¬ 
 dens, and several pretty country-houses, 
 which appear enchanting spots, with their 
 white shining walls and green lawns, 
 bordered with tall hedges of geranium. 
 At the extreme point are some barracks, 
 and a guard is always stationed, the officer 
 in command of which has the amusement 
 of making all ships passing within gun¬ 
 shot, hoist their colours, in default of 
 which they are fired on ; and in addition 
 to whatever damage they may sustain, have, 
 if Englishmen, to. pay, as we were in¬ 
 formed, for the powder and shot expended 
 upon them. 
 
 At the back or Mediterranean side, near 
 the isthmus, is a small fishing village 
 called Catalan Bay, for which defences 
 are quite unnecessary, the rock on that 
 side being perfectly perpendicular; and if 
 an enemy should seize it, they are as far 
 from Gibraltar as ever, and might be dis¬ 
 lodged by heaving the very rocks down upon 
 
GIBRALTAR. 
 
 15 
 
 them from the summit. Some Spaniards 
 however managed, it is said, to get up, 
 (though it is to me inconceivable how 
 they did it,) during the great siege, in the 
 night, and killed the guard at the flag-staff, 
 but were at daybreak discovered and made 
 prisoners. 
 
 After the comfort of a warm bath, 
 which a sojourn of a week on board ship 
 had rendered even more than comfort¬ 
 able, we went to church. The building is 
 rather handsome, in what may be called, I 
 suppose, the Moorish style, which was pro¬ 
 bably suggested to the architect as appro¬ 
 priate, by the remains of the Moorish castle 
 —the first kernel of Gibraltar, built in 725, 
 by Tarif, the Saracen general, founder of 
 the city, which was called from him Gibel- 
 Tarif*. This castle was the chief fortifi- 
 
 * Such is the etymology given by Colonel Drink- 
 water, in his sketch of the history of Gibraltar, no 
 doubt from good authority; and certainly the name 
 Tarif a on the opposite side of the Strait, gives some 
 countenance to this conjecture. Yet I cannot help 
 
16 
 
 GIBRALTAR. 
 
 cation down to times comparatively modern. 
 It is supposed that the greater part of 
 it was destroyed when Charles the Fifth 
 modernized the fortifications ; little now 
 remains, except one conspicuous tower, 
 not however distinguishable, as far as I 
 could see, by any peculiar architecture. 
 
 After church, we wished to see the mili¬ 
 tary excavations and galleries, and for this 
 purpose, sought the town-major’s office, 
 where we received a pass, to he counter¬ 
 signed by the colonel of artillery ; but he, 
 good man, was at evening service, and we 
 were obliged to defer that visit, and content 
 ourselves with a walk round the fortifica¬ 
 tions, and to the Neutral Ground. The 
 latter is so low, that if the sea were to rise a 
 few feet, the whole would be under water. 
 The distance between the Spanish lines 
 and the first works of the fortress, is about 
 half a mile; a small village forming the 
 
 thinking that the derivation from Gibel-tor, the tower 
 mountain , seems more natural. 
 
GIBRALTAR. 
 
 17 
 
 advanced Spanish post—the English being 
 a guard-house and station for a civil officer, 
 to take passes from those who enter from 
 the country, a few of which the officer on 
 guard has the liberty of granting. 
 
 The guns from the galleries and chief 
 fortifications command this approach— 
 which a deep ditch and a narrow cause¬ 
 way undermined , render, I suppose, im¬ 
 passable to an enemy. 
 
 The Mediterranean shore of the Neutral 
 Ground affords the best view of the neigh¬ 
 bourhood. The rock from this looks com¬ 
 pletely insulated, rising 1300 feet perpen¬ 
 dicularly, the sea on both sides, with Ape’s 
 Hill and the coast of Africa behind; the 
 latter stretching to the right ends in Ta- 
 rifa point, and still further to the right 
 are the mountains of Spain. In the oppo¬ 
 site direction, the view was also beautiful, 
 looking towards Velez Malaga and the 
 snow-capped mountains of Granada, now 
 shining in the evening sun. 
 
1.8 
 
 GIBRALTAR. 
 
 As it was near sunset, we hastened 
 within the gates; visited the works fronting 
 the Neutral Ground, which seemed almost 
 too strong ; thence Ave followed the line of 
 ramparts along the whole face of the toAvn 
 to the Almeda, which is at the southern 
 end, and is used both as a parade ground 
 and public Avalk; on one side are the pub¬ 
 lic gardens, and round the whole is a gera¬ 
 nium hedge, even at this season in flower, 
 while the trees are also budding and exhi¬ 
 biting every appearance of spring. 
 
 This was our first day’s Avork, Avith 
 which Ave were additionally pleased, from 
 the variety of nations and extraordinary 
 difference of costumes to be met with in 
 the streets. Gibraltar is a most striking 
 place to an inexperienced traveller. He 
 that leaves the shores of England for the 
 first time, and arrives here direct from 
 Falmouth, might imagine himself arrived 
 at a large fancy ball; for here are the 
 
GIBRALTAR. 
 
 19 
 
 jacket and vest, loose blue trousers* and 
 red skull-cap;—the Moors trading from the 
 Barbary coast, some covered up in the 
 huge shaggy sheepskin capote, others dis¬ 
 playing in their dress the sacred green of 
 the prophet, and indeed every other colour 
 —all shuffling along in their bright yellow 
 slippers, invariably too large for their feet; 
 —the Spaniards in their dark loose cloaks; 
 —and the inhabitants of Gibraltar them¬ 
 selves—mixed up with the gay and brilliant 
 uniforms of our army and navy—forms a 
 scene nowhere else to be met with. 
 
 The next morning (Monday the 11th), 
 having ordered horses to be ready at 
 twelve, we went first to the military exca¬ 
 vations in the rock, having now no diffi¬ 
 culty in procuring the countersign—these 
 
 * Here and throughout my narrative I call this gar¬ 
 ment trousers for euphony, though they reach only to 
 the knees, and would be better expressed by a more 
 common appellation. 
 
20 
 
 GIBRALTAR. 
 
 are prodigious; galleries above galleries hol¬ 
 lowed out of the solid rock, and bristling with 
 one hundred and twelve pieces of cannon, 
 (there are altogether above 600 pieces on 
 this face of the fortress.) From the highest 
 we emerged into the open air, and made a 
 toilsome ascent to the flag-staff at the sum¬ 
 mit, where a serjeant’s guard is stationed, 
 and only relieved once a week, on account 
 of the height of the post. The serjeant 
 had, to our great satisfaction, some excellent 
 bread, cheese^ and porter; and after a regale 
 on these truly English dainties, which we 
 thought never tasted better than under 
 Squire Western’s favourite sign of the Her¬ 
 cules Pillars , we descended in the opposite 
 direction, that is, towards Europa Point, for 
 the purpose of visiting St. Michael’s cave. 
 
 This is a beautiful natural object, but 
 we were unlucky in not having brought 
 blue lights and torches to illuminate the 
 interior, they being quite necessary to 
 
RIDE INTO SPAIN. 
 
 21 
 
 show its extent, and the beauty of the 
 natural pillars supporting the fretted roof. 
 No person lias ever explored it to the end, 
 which is I believe impossible, the descent 
 being at last precipitous. General O’Hara 
 is said to have penetrated to a great dis¬ 
 tance and left a valuable sword, to be the 
 property of any person who might bring it 
 out ; but there it still remains, or at least 
 as much of it as the rust may have spared. 
 There is a popular—I wont say belief — 
 but at least story —that the monkeys which 
 at some seasons appear to vanish from the 
 Rock of Gibraltar, make their way through 
 St. Michael’s Cave, and by subterranean 
 and submarine passages to Ape’s Hill on 
 the African coast. 
 
 From the Cave we made a rapid descent, 
 and finding our horses ready, sallied forth 
 to the Cork Wood, the favourite ride of 
 the equestrians of the garrison. The first 
 part of the road is on the sea-shore; it then 
 becomes very bad; at five miles’ distance we 
 
22 
 
 RIDE INTO SPAIN. 
 
 passed through. St. Roque, a small town, 
 devoid of any object of interest. After this 
 we felt that we were in Spain ; the coun¬ 
 try is wild and imperfectly cultivated, with 
 a bridle path over hill and dale, or by 
 mountain stream, with scarcely a house or 
 human creature to break the solitude and 
 stillness of the scene. 
 
 In fording a tributary rivulet of the 
 stream, by the side of which we were 
 journeying, one of our companions sud¬ 
 denly sunk, and in rising, presented—what 
 but for its danger would have been—a 
 ludicrous appearance. In the first plunge, 
 he with his horse had performed a somerset, 
 and they reappeared, the horse struggling 
 on his back, with his master endeavouring 
 to get over him as he was sinking. For¬ 
 tunately, the young middy,—for he was 
 a son of the sea,—disengaged himself 
 and was soon in safety, while the poor 
 animal was for some time prevented from 
 recovering its natural position, by the 
 
RIDE INTO SPAIN. 
 
 23 
 
 boughs of a willow, under which the 
 stream had carried him. 
 
 The Wood being only a mile from the 
 spot where this occurred, we pushed on ; 
 but an inn of which we had been informed 
 as a place of refreshment was so miserable 
 and dirty, while some Spaniards were quar¬ 
 relling and drawing their knives on each 
 other at the door, that we only waited to 
 procure a.glass of spirits for our drenched 
 companion, and returned as fast as we 
 could that he might change his dress; 
 but it was otherwise ordained, for on re¬ 
 entering St. Roque, I being the hindmost 
 of the party, was disagreeably reminded 
 of a certain choice phrase of our native 
 tongue, by being suddenly seized by a 
 gaunt, wild-looking apparition, armed with 
 along spear, who, if not his satanic majesty 
 himself, seemed well qualified for his de¬ 
 puty. His fiendship began vociferating 
 most vehemently, but finding his eloquence 
 lost upon my unlearned ears, led me to a 
 
24 
 
 PRISON OF ST. ROQUE. 
 
 notice posted up in Spanish and English, 
 which opened my eyes to the enormity 
 of my offence. I had ridden, it turned 
 out, across the Almeda or public walk, 
 which the notice expressly forbade, under 
 a penalty of five ducats. 
 
 On my demanding to see the alcalde, 
 my captor led me through the town by the 
 bridle-rein, followed by a crowd of boys, 
 shouting after me in no complimentary 
 style. 
 
 My companions, who, though equally 
 guilty with myself, had, luckily, not been 
 seen, or at least seized, hastened to find 
 out the local authorities, who could order 
 my release; but in the meanwhile I was 
 led to the door of the common prison, from 
 the windows of which I was saluted with 
 language, rendered sufficiently intelligible 
 by the signs which accompanied it, to 
 convince me that it was not meant for 
 courtesy. “ Dismount” was now the order, 
 or rather sign. I refused; the guard 
 
PRISON OF ST. ROQUE. 
 
 25 
 
 turned out with bayonets fixed, and the ap¬ 
 plication of a little force, or what the law¬ 
 yers call a molliter manus imposuit , com¬ 
 pelled me to submit. The gates opened 
 and closed, and for the first time in my 
 life, and I trust for the last, I was in a 
 prison. In answer to my remonstrances, 
 they explained to me that the governor was 
 out, hut that when he returned I should 
 be liberated on payment of the fine. This 
 being the case, I sat down in the head 
 jailor’s room where his family was at din¬ 
 ner, a most hideous set, regaling them¬ 
 selves on viands which offended both my 
 eyes and nose; I thought it best, however, 
 to suppress all signs of disapprobation, and 
 having ordered a bottle of aqua ardente, 
 treated my guard, and so far propitiated 
 their friendship, that when at the expira¬ 
 tion of three hours I was liberated, they 
 greeted me on departing with a loud ‘viva.’ 
 
 I found my friends waiting on the out¬ 
 side to receive me. On leaving me, they 
 
 c 
 
26 
 
 PRISON OF ST. ROQUE. 
 
 had gone in pursuit of the great man, and 
 after some trouble had found him; none 
 of the party, however, knowing Spanish, 
 there was some difficulty and squabbling, 
 but the golden key of half a doubloon 
 effected their object and restored me to 
 freedom. 
 
 A midshipman of our party—the same 
 spirited youth who had lately escaped a more 
 serious fate than mine,—however, attri¬ 
 buted their success, in a great measure, to 
 liis own power of vituperative eloquence, 
 or, in plain English, to a torrent of abusive 
 slang which he poured forth upon the 
 Municipal Chief, who mistaking it, as our 
 friend asserted, for compliment, expressed 
 himself highly flattered ; but I must say, 
 that I attribute more efficacy to the semi¬ 
 doubloon, than even to the amphibious 
 compliments of my young advocate. Such 
 were our rather untoward adventures 
 during a day in Spain. 
 
 While on shore at Gibraltar, we had 
 
GIBRALTAR INNS. 27 
 
 very comfortable quarters at a building 
 called the Club , which was, I believe, its 
 original use, though now nothing but an 
 hotel. In addition to this, there is an inn 
 in the same square, called “ Griffiths,’’ of 
 which I cannot speak from experience, but 
 the report of others of the passengers who 
 had put up there was favourable. 
 
 c 2 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 COAST OF AFRICA, ALTA, AND VOYAGE AMONGST 
 THE IONIAN ISLES. 
 
 [12th TO 21st JANUARY.] 
 
 Tuesday , 12 th January . On board 
 at ten o’clock :—a fresli and more varie¬ 
 gated congregation of passengers replaced 
 those we had left at Cadiz and Gib¬ 
 raltar ; and what a confusion of tongues 
 and nations ! The Hermes seemed a float¬ 
 ing Babel. English, American, Spanish, 
 French, Moors, Turks, and Greeks, all 
 talking together, and each giving direc¬ 
 tions, various and loud, about his own lug- 
 
A CARLIST. 
 
 29 
 
 Among our new companions were a noble 
 Spanish lady, the Marchesa de Villa Seca, 
 and her son and daughter, who being of the 
 Carlist party, have been obliged, as we 
 heard, to leave this country to save their 
 lives. The lady’s story interested us ; she 
 had been tried by the Junta of Cordova on 
 some political charge, the sentence against 
 her was, “guilty of suspicion of not being 
 attached to the government of Isabella 
 Segunda this sentence was sent to the 
 supreme court at Seville, which annulled 
 it as nonsense. A few days after this a 
 notary called on her, and exhibited some 
 kind of decree, announcing that she was 
 banished to Malaga, and enjoining her to 
 quit Cordova in an hour: she repeatedly 
 asked by whose orders she was thus 
 banished, but could get no information ; 
 the civil governor of Cordova denying that 
 he had given any order of the kind. 
 Within the hour the escorts arrived and 
 
30 
 
 A CARLIST. 
 
 proceeded with her to Malaga, where they 
 left her. She had not been in Malaga 
 more than eight or ten days, when she 
 received information that the Junta of 
 Cordova had again commenced proceed¬ 
 ings against her; that her rents were 
 sequestered, and that thirty Urbanos , or 
 national guards were on their way to 
 Malaga to bring her back to Cordova to 
 stand another trial. 
 
 Under these circumstances—which cer¬ 
 tainly were not calculated to inspire much 
 confidence in the justice of the tribunal of 
 Cordova, she prudently went with her 
 family on board H.M.S. Jaseur, which 
 happened to be at Malaga, and claimed the 
 protection of the English flag, requesting 
 a passage to Gibraltar. We were assured 
 that—incredible as it may appear—the offi¬ 
 cer in command of the party of Urbanos 
 sent from Cordova, had orders to lodge the 
 lady, her son and daughter, if he could 
 
A CARLIST. 
 
 31 
 
 have caught them, every night in the 
 common prison of the place where they 
 might stop, with a further private instruc¬ 
 tion to take a favourable opportunity of 
 shooting the whole of the family, servants 
 and all, under the pretence of an attempt 
 at rescue or evasion. 
 
 When the Urbanos found that their vic¬ 
 tim had escaped, they made no secret of 
 their orders ; and those who saw the offi¬ 
 cer to whom they had been given, told me 
 that, judging from his appearance, the 
 Junta had picked out a fit instrument for 
 this sanguinary task, and one not likely to 
 be moved to compassion by either youth or 
 beauty, of which the young lady had a fair 
 share, being indeed a very pretty girl of 
 eighteen. The elder lady, however, was, 
 it seemed, not corrected by this lesson, of 
 her political zeal, and was supposed to 
 have drawn the thread of her intrigues 
 after her to Gibraltar, which induced the 
 governor to desire her to leave the fortress. 
 
32 
 
 ALGIERS. 
 
 and she was now on her way to Malta and 
 Palermo, where her daughter has some 
 property. 
 
 But, to return from this digression: 
 after skirting the shores of Spain near 
 Malaga, with the fine outline of the Gra¬ 
 nada mountains in the distance, we on the 
 following morning passed Cape de Gat, 
 and stood over for Algiers. Unluckily 
 for us, there were no dispatches or mails 
 for that place, so that we did not see it, 
 though we passed within six or seven 
 miles. The light-house standing on a point 
 of land, which forms one side of the Bay 
 of Algiers, was visible, hut the point itself 
 concealed the town. 
 
 We saw mountains tipped with snow in 
 the interior, no doubt the range of Mount 
 Atlas; and as the weather was delightful, 
 and the land in sight, our five days’ run to 
 Malta was by no means tedious. Pantel- 
 laria, a little island which, it is said, the 
 Americans wish to purchase from the Sici- 
 
MALTA. 
 
 33 
 
 lian government, and to make a naval 
 station, we passed on Saturday; and on Sun¬ 
 day (17th January), after running along 
 the island of Gozo—a barren spot, where 
 however some of the inhabitants of Malta 
 resort during the summer months,—and 
 separated from that island by a passage of 
 half a mile—we ran into the Marchama- 
 chette, or Quarantine Harbour of Malta, 
 leaving the Valetta Point and light-house 
 on our left. 
 
 The fortifications and houses look to 
 a stranger very beautiful in the bright 
 sunshine, which lighted up the white 
 rock to great advantage, while the sea 
 was like a placid lake studded with 
 small white sails. All this brilliancy was 
 agreeable, I say, to a stranger, after a long 
 sea voyage in this cool season; but I can 
 easily understand, that to the inhabitants 
 of Malta the glare may be intolerable in 
 summer, and not agreeable even in winter. 
 Of this, however, or of the interior of the 
 
 c 3 
 
34 
 
 MALTA. 
 
 city of Valetta, we were not permitted to 
 judge for ourselves; for having landed at 
 Gibraltar, we found ourselves in quarantine 
 at Malta ; and as the quarantine lasts two 
 days, while the stay of the packet was but 
 one , we should, if we had determined to 
 land at Malta, have lost our passage by 
 this vessel, and should have been confined 
 there till the next monthly packet; a de¬ 
 lay which would have defeated our inten¬ 
 tion of visiting Greece. 
 
 This was not to he thought of:—and we 
 therefore made up our minds to see of 
 Malta no more than the exterior of the city, 
 and the mterior of the Lazaretto. The 
 latter we had the curiosity to visit, to see not 
 only how our companions who were to 
 land at Malta and were therefore confined 
 there, fared, hut also how we were our¬ 
 selves to be treated, if on our return from 
 Greece we should be destined to suffer the 
 rigid hospitalities of a Maltese quarantine. 
 A preceding traveller has said that he 
 
LAZARETTO. 
 
 35 
 
 spent some of his happiest hours in this 
 Lazaretto; there is no disputing about 
 tastes, but to me it seemed an immense 
 dungeon ; the rooms in which our friends 
 were lodged—that is, those who were to 
 stop at Malta, for the others remained on 
 board—consisted of three, opening into 
 one another, and altogether about 150 feet 
 long; high and broad in proportion, with 
 stone floors and vaulted ceilings. If any 
 one could be comfortable in such a place, 
 it must be, I should have thought, under 
 circumstances so peculiar as to render one 
 entirely indifferent to localities. It is, to 
 my mind, little better than the dungeons 
 in which the knights of old confined their 
 Turkish captives, and where the fuel for 
 the steamers is now stored; these last 
 are narrow cells divided by thick walls 
 above twenty feet in height, and lighted by 
 one small aperture above. Our friends 
 were complaining grievously of their im¬ 
 prisonment, but to keep them in order, if 
 
36 
 
 QUARANTINE. 
 
 not in good humour, a gibbet stands within 
 sight, on which an Italian was hanged a 
 few years since for breaking his quaran¬ 
 tine. One of our n aval officers told me, 
 that some ten years ago he might have in¬ 
 curred the Italian’s fate, for without know¬ 
 ing the risk, he landed with his captain 
 in Valetta, on the evening before they 
 were to sail for England ; they were re¬ 
 cognised, but succeeded in getting on 
 board, and in pursuance of orders already 
 received, were at sea before daylight, not 
 seeing or pretending not to see the signals 
 of recall. 
 
 From the Quarantine Harbour very 
 little of the town is visible, merely a few 
 tops of houses peeping over the walls, 
 with towers and cupolas interspersed. It 
 is separated by Valetta Point from the Great 
 Harbour, up which we were permitted to 
 make an excursion in a boat, attended by 
 one of the guardians belonging to the Laza¬ 
 retto establishment, who (distinguished by 
 
GRAND HARBOUR. 
 
 37 
 
 the yellow collar of their coats,) seem to 
 form no inconsiderable portion of the popu¬ 
 lation of Malta, at least of that which we 
 saw. Here we had a fine view of the towns 
 Valetta and Malta, in which the Naval Hos¬ 
 pital makes a striking figure. We rowed 
 round the various ships of our squadron 
 which was lying here, and into the Dock 
 Yard Creek, on either side of which are 
 the covered slips on which the galleys 
 of the knights were drawn up when 
 in harbour, now used as receptacles for 
 the different stores required by our more 
 complicated maritime system. The scene 
 was busy and enlivening, and made our 
 return to the Yellow Flag—the sign of 
 quarantine—still more irksome. 
 
 The weather while we stayed was fine; 
 for us, who had so lately left frost and 
 snow in England, much too warm; though 
 the residents by no means complained of 
 that inconvenience. Winter here had been 
 unusually severe, the severest indeed that has 
 
38 
 
 CLIMATE. 
 
 been experienced for more than thirty years, 
 there having actually been a fall of snow ! 
 This being once past, we thought that 
 nothing but fine spring weather remained 
 for us, and that if we were to experience 
 any difference in the climate of Greece, it 
 could only be for the better ; the sequel 
 will show how grievously we were disap¬ 
 pointed. 
 
 If we had only considered the matter of 
 climate , we certainly could not have spent 
 the remainder of the winter in a better 
 place; and I should think that Malta 
 would be preferable as a wintering-place 
 for invalids to either Nice or Naples, 
 which are liable, I believe, to greater vicis¬ 
 situdes ; particularly when it is recollected 
 that by the steam boats, one may be, in 
 four days from Falmouth, in the lati¬ 
 tude of Lisbon, and within a fortnight, at 
 Malta; and I can venture to state, from 
 my own experience, that the sea voyage 
 has at least as much to do Avith the im- 
 
STORM. 
 
 39 
 
 provement of a pulmonary invalid, as the 
 mere climate. 
 
 Monday , 18^ January. The steamer 
 having completed her coals, we started 
 with a diminished company for the Ionian 
 Islands. The two first days we were out 
 of sight of land* and unvisited by any 
 event; but on the second night we ex¬ 
 perienced a storm of thunder and light¬ 
 ning of which I could have formed no idea. 
 
 I here announce, once for all, that I shall 
 not attempt to describe the storms by 
 which we may have been overtaken in 
 our voyages. They are in general “ as 
 like one another as halfpence and if the 
 reader is curious about a Mediterranean 
 gale, there is, as Martinus Scriblerus 
 would say, “ a very fine one in the first 
 iEneid, ready brewed to his handbut I 
 
 * On our return voyage, when the weather was much 
 clearer, we approached Sicily, and had during the whole 
 day before reaching Malta, a fine view of the outline 
 of Mount iEtna, at the distance of from 60 to 100 miles. 
 
40 
 
 ZANTE. 
 
 may notice a peculiarity which occurred 
 to us, and which earlier travellers have 
 not had an opportunity of witnessing— 
 the meteoric illumination of the engine- 
 room of the steam vessel, in which the 
 lightning played up and down the piston 
 rods and among the machinery, with ter¬ 
 rific vivacity and brilliancy. 
 
 On the third morning (Thursday 21 st,) 
 we made the land of Zante ; and to the 
 south-east, the distant hills of the Morea; 
 and, rising in dark majesty behind the 
 island, the black mountain of Cephalonia; 
 the summits of all being covered with snow. 
 
 “Zante, Zante, 
 
 Fior de Levante !’’ 
 
 Such is the boast of its inhabitants, in 
 which I found that those of the mainland 
 agreed ; for, on our return, when, from one 
 of the highest points in the Morea we 
 descried this island, our guides immediately 
 pointed it out, singing the above couplet 
 
ZANTE. 
 
 41 
 
 in its praise; for which, however, we sus¬ 
 pected it to he more indebted to rhyme 
 than to reason : to our eyes at least—ap¬ 
 proaching on the southern side—it did not 
 at all answer this description, for nothing 
 but bold craggy cliffs, with scarcely a trace 
 of verdure greeted our eyes, where we anti¬ 
 cipated a paradise on earth. On the very 
 highest point called Scopo—so named from 
 its situation and former use, for it is the 
 fittest place in the island for a watch sta¬ 
 tion, 1 *—is a convent, the very locality of 
 which seemed a type of the principle which 
 founded such establishments. An abode 
 so desolate and dreary, within sight of the 
 pleasant plains below, could only be chosen 
 by men professing indifference to mere 
 worldly enjoyment. 
 
 After rounding a point of land and ap¬ 
 proaching the shore, we saw Zante, look¬ 
 ing somewhat more like the flower of the 
 
 * From the Greek E/co7r?7—a Watch Tower. 
 
42 
 
 ZANTE. 
 
 Levant; but as we did not land there on 
 our outward voyage, the description of its 
 internal beauties must be postponed to its 
 proper place. 
 
 The view from the sea is certainly lovely, 
 but it is a view which we found to be 
 very common—in its outline at least—in 
 all this part of the world ; a town lying at 
 the foot of a lofty hill, on which rise the cita¬ 
 del and works of defence. Here we first saw 
 the Greek costume, worn as the common 
 dress of the country, and the tight jacket 
 and loose blue trousers of the sailors, with 
 the handsome dark and mustachioed faces, 
 told us, if such information were wanting, 
 that we were at last in Eastern climes, 
 and among a people at most but semi- 
 European. 
 
 The only stop the packet made, was to 
 land and receive the mail; and as the au¬ 
 thorities were aware of our approach, this 
 did not occupy many minutes, so that by 
 half-past nine in the morning, we w r ere 
 
PATRAS. 
 
 43 
 
 again on our course, steaming towards 
 Cape Chiarenza and Patras, on the Mo¬ 
 reau shores—over the waters, which wit¬ 
 nessed the great sea-fight of Lepanto, 
 (as it is now pronounced,) between the 
 Venetian and the Turk in 1571. 
 
 We had expected to reach Patras early 
 in the afternoon, but even steam has not 
 totally subdued the proverbial perfidy of 
 these seas ; for the wind, which had been 
 hitherto fair, now r blew a perfect gale down 
 the gulf, and prevented our advancing 
 more than one mile an hour Avith our 
 greatest power. To add to our discom¬ 
 forts, a night of pitchy darkness ensued, 
 and this being the vessel’s first trip, the 
 officers on board were personally unac¬ 
 quainted with these seas, and even with— 
 if they had been visible—the features of 
 the coast, only knowing that there were 
 certain, or I should rather say, uncertain 
 shoals on which steamers had run, and that 
 too in the daytime. At last, after beating 
 
44 
 
 PATRAS. 
 
 about for some hours, about ten o’clock 
 we saw lights—steered for them, and soon 
 made out a large ship at anchor, which 
 proved to be the Greek admiral, round 
 whom we ran, and finding ourselves in 
 Patras Roads, anchored for the night. The 
 passengers and idlers (as all but the sea¬ 
 men are emphatically and justly called in 
 His Majesty’s ships,) then turned into 
 their beds, which some anxiety about our 
 situation prevented our doing before, al¬ 
 though we knew very well that if there 
 were any danger we could be of no use. 
 
 Friday , 22nd January , 1836. I arose 
 at daylight to have a sight—which was all 
 we were allowed—of the town, and was 
 rewarded by a beautiful Eastern sunrise, 
 with an unclouded sky — the mountain 
 which rises behind Patras standing out in 
 fine relief, while the sun as it rose on the 
 left gave a thousand different tints to the 
 snow on its summit and sides. It was 
 certainly a splendid sunrise. 
 
PATRAS. 
 
 45 
 
 Here, if we had been aware of all the 
 circumstances of the case, we might have 
 landed, and commenced immediately the 
 tour of the Morea, concluding with Athens, 
 Delphi, and Corfu—-just reversing the 
 course we afterwards took; this would 
 have economized a week of our time, and 
 have enabled us to extend our circuit to 
 Marathon and Thebes. But we had nei¬ 
 ther experience nor advice to guide us, and 
 thought it prudent to defer till our arrival 
 at Corfu (where we were sure to obtain 
 information) the final arrangement of our 
 plans. We therefore resolved to proceed 
 in our packet to her final destination. 
 
 Our anchor was soon up, and we stood 
 on to Corfu. Our situation was at this 
 moment very enjoyable; the day was fine 
 —sky clear, and water smooth—we were 
 on a sea and amongst islands and shores 
 celebrated from the earliest dawn of classical 
 poetry. We might have exclaimed in Lady 
 M. W. Montagu’s version of Addison, 
 
46 
 
 ITHACA. 
 
 “ Warmed with poetic transport, I survey 
 The immortal islands, and the well-known sea, 
 
 For here so oft the Muse her harp has strung, 
 
 That not amountaintop remains unsung.” 
 
 The scenes of the first travels , of which 
 there exists even a mythological record, 
 were before us—we were in the regions 
 of the Odyssey —and although it is cer¬ 
 tainly not easy to reconcile some circum¬ 
 stances of the Homeric narrative with the 
 localities (supposing the learned to have 
 correctly adapted the ancient to the modern 
 names,) yet all such critical scruples gave 
 way before the enthusiasm of our classical 
 feelings. 
 
 We soon reached the narrow channel, 
 about four miles wide and sixteen long, 
 which divides Ithaca and Cephalonia : the 
 latter is tolerably cultivated, but not (at 
 least in this view) pretty; but for the 
 other—alas ! We, like former travellers, 
 could not help feeling something like vexa¬ 
 tion at finding the island of Ulysses the 
 most barren spot we ever beheld. For the 
 
ITHACA. 
 
 47 
 
 whole length of the island, scarce a shrub 
 or blade of grass was to be seen; and one 
 might be tempted to attribute the long 
 absence of Ulysses less to the adverse fates 
 than to his good taste; and when we 
 recollected that he is said to have ploughed 
 in a simulated fit of madness the sea-sliore, 
 and sowed it with salt, it seemed to us 
 that it would have been little less insane 
 to have ploughed the best land his island 
 affords, in the hope of receiving a husband¬ 
 man’s return. But in truth we ought not 
 to have felt any disappointment, for Homer 
 himself had prepared us for a very barren 
 prospect. When Menelaus offers his young 
 friend Telemachus a chariot and horses, the 
 latter modestly declines the equipage, for 
 reasons which are in perfect accordance 
 with the present appearance of Ithaca. 
 
 Ev S* ’Ida/crj out ap dpofxoi evpeeg, k. t. X .— 
 Odys. b. iv. 1. 605. 
 
 ‘ Horrid with cliffs, our meagre land allows 
 Thin herbage for the mountain goat to browse ; 
 
48 
 
 LEUCADIA. 
 
 But neither mead nor plain supplies, to feed 
 The sprightly courser or indulge his speed. 
 
 To sea-surrounded realms, the Gods assign 
 Small tract of fertile lawn—the least to mine !” 
 
 But even this candid avowal does not do 
 full justice to the barrenness of the western 
 side of Ithaca ; the other, on which are the 
 harbour and towns, must be better, in 
 every respect, or it would be utterly unin¬ 
 habitable. 
 
 On the Cephalonia coast is Cape Vis- 
 cardo, from which on our firing a gun, 
 started forth a gun-boat of the Ionian 
 States, to exchange mails ; and then pass¬ 
 ing Santa Maura, or Leucadia with the 
 celebrated cliff, called the Lover s Leap , 
 from being supposed to afford those who 
 should precipitate themselves from it, a 
 certain cure for even the most violent love. 
 I am not over credulous in the virtues of 
 specifics, but I cannot doubt the complete 
 efficacy of this remedy , not only for love 
 but for all other diseases. The most re¬ 
 markable person recorded as having tried 
 
LOVER’S LEAP. 
 
 49 
 
 this experiment, and who has associated 
 her name with the rock, was Sappho— 
 the unfortunate type of female poets—who 
 by taking the leap, got rid of her love and 
 her life together. 
 
 I had expected however, to see a much 
 higher and bolder precipice, but this, like 
 Shakspeare’s Cliff at Dovor, and all others 
 of this species of promontory, that slopes 
 downward and inland, is rendered in pro¬ 
 cess of time, less and less lofty by the 
 successive falls of the face of the cliff. It 
 is, however, still high and steep enough 
 for suicide, whenever the ladies of Greece 
 may recover such a passionate combination 
 of love and literature, as to be ambitious 
 of imitating Sappho in such an irregular 
 species of death. 
 
 This gigantic headstone —as I may call 
 it—over the watery grave of poor Sappho, 
 was soon hidden by the shades of evening, 
 and about twelve at night, we cast our 
 anchor in the harbour of Corfu. 
 
 i) 
 
50 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CORFU. 
 
 [22nd to 29th January.] 
 
 Beautiful ! I exclaimed, when, early 
 next morning, I saw Corfu, and my ex¬ 
 clamation was in the superlative—Most 
 beautiful!—when I became better ac¬ 
 quainted with it. The roadstead, or rather 
 bay, is completely land-locked; surrounded 
 on three sides by the island, and on the 
 other by the main land, with only narrow 
 exits to the north and south, not visible 
 from the harbour itself. 
 
 A little allowance must be made for one 
 who,—though he has happened to have 
 
CORFU. 
 
 51 
 
 visited the four quarters of the world, and 
 very lately to have seen the Peak of Tene- 
 riffe and the West Indies—had formed his 
 habitual ideas of rural beauty on the banks 
 of the Isis, and of scenic grandeur from 
 the woods of Cliefden; but with this pro¬ 
 viso, I will venture to say, that the view 
 which the morning unfolded was delightful. 
 The opposite coast of Albania ; the forti¬ 
 fications of the island of Vido ; the citadel 
 of Corfu, built on two precipitous rocks 
 running out into the sea ; the palace of 
 the Lord High Commissioner; the town 
 itself, and the distant mountains of the 
 island, form a splendid panoramic view. 
 
 We landed in the ditch of the citadel, 
 from which a flight of steps lead to the 
 Esplanade or Parade Ground; and this 
 again was another almost fairy scene. 
 Upon its verge stands the Palace, of white 
 Maltese stone, flanked by the two hand¬ 
 some gates of St. Michael and St. George, 
 
 d 2 
 
52 
 
 CORFU. 
 
 eacli of which frames , as it were, within 
 its columns, a lovely picture of the distant 
 snow-capped mountains of Albania glit¬ 
 tering in the glorious sunshine. 
 
 Opposite is a terrace overhanging the 
 sea; on one side a lofty row of buildings 
 with an arched walk beneath them, and on 
 the other the citadel, made an island by a 
 broad and deep ditch, cut between it and 
 the town. It seemed to give a peculiar 
 effect to this beautiful scenery, that, at the 
 moment, the troops were passing in re¬ 
 view, and the bands filling the air with 
 the same military tunes we had so often 
 heard at home. 
 
 Our first visit was to the Lord High 
 Commissioner, or as he is here styled in 
 common parlance, the Lord High , who 
 received us very civilly, and during our 
 short stay, honoured us with much atten¬ 
 tion and kindness. We then went in 
 search of a lodging, and after a stroll 
 
CORFU. 
 
 53 
 
 through the narrow streets, we took up 
 our quarters at the “ Locanda della bella 
 Venezia .” This distinctive appellation, 
 if it mean anything, would he no great 
 compliment to the comfort and tidiness of 
 Venice; hut this Locanda , though a dirty 
 place, is, I believe, the best in the town. 
 
 By the time we had settled ourselves in 
 our inn the day was far gone ; for I have 
 found—I know not whether it is with pride 
 or humility that I confess it—that English 
 travellers take a much longer time, than 
 those of other countries whom I have hap¬ 
 pened to fall in with, in arranging little 
 matters appertaining to personal comforts; 
 but it must also he confessed that, in pro¬ 
 portion as we live abroad we become less 
 punctilious about certain niceties, which 
 no other people, that I know of, ever seem 
 to regard : we however found time to take 
 a short stroll into the country before sunset. 
 Here we first saw the Albanian costume. 
 
54 
 
 CORFU. 
 
 which differs from the Hydriote, worn by the 
 Greek sailors, and already described—in 
 having a white kilt and greaves, or leg¬ 
 gings, instead of the loose trousers; the 
 jacket being still more highly ornamented 
 with gold or silver embroidery. This is 
 the dress of the police of these islands, 
 who seem to take a pride in their showy 
 appearance, and appear to be great dandies , 
 affording a marked contrast to the half 
 Greek, half Italian race which form the 
 bulk of the population, and are of a very 
 scrubby, and I may say, dirty appear¬ 
 ance. These dresses are not only showy 
 but costly ; for having mentioned to our 
 servant that we wished to know the price 
 of them, he brought a tailor with some of 
 his goods for our inspection, who asked for 
 a maroon velvet embroidered with gold, 
 very similar to one which adorned the per¬ 
 son of a handsome policeman, the sum of 
 120 dollars, more than 2 51., and this ex- 
 
CORFU. 
 
 55 
 
 elusive of the shawl for the waist, which 
 often costs a still larger sum. 
 
 Saturday , 23 rd January. Having 
 learned that the Senate was to be pro¬ 
 rogued this morning, we repaired early to 
 the palace (in which is the Legislative 
 Chamber, and indeed all the public offices,) 
 to see the ceremony. 
 
 Their constitution, like all modern con¬ 
 stitutions, is model]ed on that of Eng¬ 
 land ; having three Estates—the Lord High 
 Commissioner representing the King, the 
 Senate, and an Elective Legislative As¬ 
 sembly, chosen from the Seven Islands 
 (Ewravnaos) forming the Ionian Republic. 
 By the kindness of the Governor we easily 
 obtained seats. 
 
 The proceedings were carried on in 
 Italian ; the legislators were in a full dress 
 uniform; a blue coat, embroidered at the 
 cuffs and collars, and trousers with a gold 
 lace down the seams, not unlike the offi¬ 
 cial uniforms which were invented under 
 
56 
 
 CORFU. 
 
 the French Republic, and which have been 
 lately adopted in, Ibelieve, mostof the courts 
 of Europe ; a strange anomaly—which 
 abjures the principles of the Revolution and 
 adopts its frivolities. Here, however, I 
 could not but fancy that if a uniform were 
 to be prescribed, something more nation¬ 
 ally characteristic might have been adopted 
 than the costume of St. James’s or the Tuil- 
 eries. It is fair, however, to add, that 
 the worthy Greeks were, if we might judge 
 by the glances of approbation they cast on 
 themselves, perfectly satisfied with the 
 official costume. Its being inappropriate 
 might make it the more distinctive . 
 
 The Lord High made his appearance 
 very punctually at the appointed hour, and 
 was received by all standing. He pro¬ 
 ceeded immediately to read his speech, 
 which was in Italian; thanking them for 
 having repealed some of the acts of their 
 last session which had a dangerous tend¬ 
 ency ; and congratulating them on the 
 
CORFU. 
 
 57 
 
 adoption of the Romaic, or modern Greek 
 language, which in future is to he used in 
 public assemblies and documents—so as to 
 preclude the necessity of sending the young 
 men to Italy, where they imbibe (it is said) 
 pernicious principles ; this seems to me 
 indicative of a design, or least an opinion, 
 that these islands should eventually be¬ 
 come a part of the Greek nation—which 
 indeed, if the Greek kingdom prospers, 
 is inevitable. The address was well re¬ 
 ceived, both by the assemblies and the 
 spectators ; and the ceremony concluded 
 with a response from the President, and 
 at his suggestion, a loud and startling 
 “viva” from the Plouse; which, on the 
 Commissioner’s retiring, broke up ; and 
 the Members proceeded to their homes, ac¬ 
 companied by a military guard and band, 
 playing “ God save the King.” 
 
 The whole ceremony was over before 
 the clock had struck one, so that we had 
 the afternoon to inspect the fortifications of 
 
 d 3 
 
58 
 
 CORFU. 
 
 Vido, a little island, situated about a mile 
 from the town, and nearly midway between 
 the two points of land which, with it, 
 form the harbour. 
 
 The works will be, when completed, 
 very, and indeed as far as we could judge, 
 unnecessarily, strong ; for it seemed to us, 
 that the ultimate possession of Corfu must 
 depend, not on fortifications on shore, but 
 on the dominion of the sea; for having no 
 resources except from the opposite coast, a 
 blockading fleet would soon starve it into 
 surrender; however this may be, the works 
 are in themselves well worth seeing, being 
 chiefly excavated out of the rock which 
 forms the island; and their site affords 
 also the best prospect of the town and 
 citadel of Corfu. 
 
 This evening we had the honour of 
 meeting at the Palace a party of Greek 
 Senators at a farewell dinner, given by the 
 Governor, preparatory to their departure to 
 their homes in the other islands. It was 
 
CORFU. 
 
 59 
 
 perhaps owing to our ignorance of their 
 language and manners, that we formed, 
 from these specimens, no very high idea of 
 the Ionian aristocracy. They seemed 
 silent and awkward in the circumstances 
 in which we saw them ; but they perhaps 
 formed no better opinion of us. Even 
 those amongst us who could address them 
 in a common tongue, found much difficulty 
 in extracting answers. In short, they 
 seemed out of place ; and directly after our 
 rising from table, they made their bows 
 and departed. I cannot imagine any real 
 amalgamation between an English govern¬ 
 ment and an Ionian senate. 
 
 The next day was Sunday—only the 
 third from our leaving England—and we 
 took the opportunity of attending divine ser¬ 
 vice at the Garrison Chapel in the citadel. 
 We afterwards walked to what is called the 
 One Gun Battery , from which is a view of 
 one of the islands (for there are two com¬ 
 petitors) which claim to be what is called 
 
60 
 
 CORFU. 
 
 the “ Sail of Ulysses’ 9 —I suppose in 
 allusion to the galley of the Phseacians, 
 which on her return from having conveyed 
 Ulysses to Ithaca, was overtaken by the 
 vengeance of Neptune, said petrified within 
 sight of the port. 
 
 - fj Si /xciXa er^ecJov.— k. r. X. Odys. xiii. 161. 
 
 “ Swift as the swallow sweeps the liquid way 
 The winged pinnace shot along the sea;— 
 
 The God arrests her with a sudden stroke, 
 
 And roots her down an everlasting rock.” 
 
 The other competitor for this honour is 
 a rock which we afterwards saw on the 
 opposite side of the island :—the question 
 as to which is the genuine evidence of the 
 Neptunian miracle, depends on the port 
 from which King Alcinoiis despatched 
 his guest ; and I cannot but think that, 
 from its proximity to the main land and 
 its superior shelter, that port is likely to 
 to have been the present harbour of Corfu , 
 or at least, on this side of the island :—so 
 that the point whence we now viewed the 
 rock—which might, indeed, be mistaken 
 
Sa i I of Ulysses 
 
 <3.® as, if w 
 
CORFU. 
 
 61 
 
 for a sail,—was probably the very spot 
 where the subjects of Alcinoiis witnessed 
 the prodigy. 
 
 Ot Se 7Tj ode aWi'iXovQ tirea. —Odys. xiii. 165. 
 
 “ Aghast the Scherians stand in deep surprise ; ' 
 
 All press to speak, all question with their eyes. 
 
 What hands unseen the rapid bark restrain ! 
 
 And yet it swims, or seems to swim, the main!” 
 
 The accompanying engraving—from 
 one of Mr. Newton’s drawings, made from 
 the road-side, about half a mile from the 
 town and looking southward,—represents 
 that part of the island, which is now 
 pointed out as the site of the gardens of 
 Alcinoiis, with the distant sail which 
 “ Swims or seems to swim the main.*’ 
 
 But here I must venture to state a still 
 more serious difficulty which has struck 
 us, as to the identity of Corfu itself with 
 the island of Alcinoiis. There is no doubt 
 that Corfu and C-orcyra is the same; and 
 all authors that I am acquainted with, 
 concur in identifying the Scheria of the 
 
62 
 
 CORFU. 
 
 Odyssey with Corcyra, and no doubt the 
 notices, vague as they are, of its relative 
 position to Ithaca, justify the conjecture; 
 but there are two passages in the Homeric 
 narrative, which seem rather inconsistent 
 with it. When Alcinoiis offers to send 
 Ulysses (who has not yet discovered him¬ 
 self as the King of Ithaca) home in one 
 of bis galleys, he promises him that, 
 however distant his country may be, his 
 mariners can accomplish the voyage with 
 ease. 
 
 - ol S’ eXowc n yaXrjvrjv .— k. r. Odys. vii. 319. 
 
 I shall give Cowper’s translation, as 
 more literal than Pope’s. 
 
 “ They with their oars 
 Shall brush the placid flood, till they arrive 
 At home, or whatsoever place thou wouldst, 
 Though far more distant than Euboea lies, 
 Remotest isle from us, by the reports 
 Of our’s who saw it, when they thither bore 
 Golden-hair’d Rhadamanthus o’er the deep, 
 
 To visit earth-born Tityus—to that isle 
 They went: they reach’d it and they brought him 
 thence 
 
 Back to Phseacia in one day with ease." 
 
CORFU. 
 
 63 
 
 Now Euboea is on the opposite side of 
 the whole Grecian peninsula, and to reach 
 it from Corfu, the Morea must be circum¬ 
 navigated, a distance certainly of not less 
 than five hundred miles, and nearly as long 
 as the whole voyage in which Ulysses had 
 consumed ten years. It is, therefore, impos¬ 
 sible that the rowers of Corfu should have 
 gone to Euboea and returned in one day , 
 or in twenty days. The second passage is 
 one which but for the difficulty suggested 
 by the first, would have little importance, 
 but when both are taken together, this 
 seems to corroborate the former. When 
 Minerva leaves Ulysses after having con¬ 
 ducted him to the capital of Scheria, her 
 course is thus described :— 
 
 apa (jxjjyr'iaag, ane^rj yXavnioTVLg ’A drjvrj. k. t. X. 
 
 Odys. vii. 78. 
 
 “ So Pallas spoke—Goddess ccerulean eyed, 
 
 And o’er the untillable and barren deep 
 Departing, Scheria left—land of delight— 
 
 Whence reaching Marathon , and Athens next , 
 
 She passed,’’ &c. &c. 
 
64 
 
 CORFU. 
 
 Now to go from Corfu to Marathon she 
 would have had to pass—not the deep , but 
 —a very narrow strait, to the main land, 
 and thence, the whole longitude of the 
 Grecian continent, — in fact, the very 
 longest land journey that could in a 
 straight line be made in Greece, and in 
 this course Athens would be somewhat 
 nearer than Marathon. Whereas, sup¬ 
 posing Scheria to be at the same side of 
 the peninsula with Euboea, and anywhere 
 within a day, or two, or three days’ reach, 
 the goddess would have taken her flight 
 over the deep , and landing at Marathon, 
 might thence naturally have passed on to 
 Athens. I do not myself pretend to he 
 able to solve this difficulty; which I am 
 not aware that any one has before made; 
 and diffident of my own judgment on such 
 a matter, I caused my doubts to be sub¬ 
 mitted to an accomplished scholar, well 
 acquainted, not only with Homer, but with 
 all the localities. His reply was, that these 
 
CORFU. 
 
 65 
 
 objections were new to him, and afforded 
 an additional proof how inadequate had 
 been the attention hitherto paid to the to¬ 
 pography of the Odyssey,—he could only 
 solve the first by supposing another Euboea. 
 —In the second passage he thought that 
 the itinerary of Minerva by Marathon not 
 inexplicable. Oil this I observe, that I 
 find no countenance in any other pas¬ 
 sage in Homer for the idea of a second 
 Euboea*; and that, admitting the mention 
 of the goddess passing the broad sea to 
 Marathon on her way to Athens, would 
 be of no great weight if it stood alone ; 
 yet it seems, when coupled with the former 
 passage, to corroborate the difficulty. 
 
 Begging pardon for this digression— 
 which may be forgiven by those who 
 take an interest in the geographical ac- 
 
 * There was a mountain in Argolis, and a town in 
 Sicily, called Euboea; but, even if known by that name 
 in the Homeric age, they are both almost as distant 
 from Corfu as the island Euboea. 
 
66 
 
 CORFU. 
 
 curacy of Homer—we return to the One 
 Gun Battery , which is the fashionable drive 
 and walk of the town, and whe re we found 
 many, both pedestrians and equestrians, 
 enjoying the beauty of the day and of the 
 scenery—little caring whether the ‘ land 
 of delight' which they were treading, be 
 the ancient Scheria or not. 
 
 On our return we walked into the 
 grounds of the Lord High's country house: 
 here we were struck by the size of the 
 olive-trees, one of which measured twenty- 
 five feet in circumference ; they have much 
 the appearance of the holm oak, and from 
 the dull colour of their foliage have rather 
 a gloomy effect, which, however, in this 
 climate is relieved by the purity of the 
 atmosphere and brightness of the sun¬ 
 shine. We walked through a wood of these 
 trees, and soon came in sight of the house, 
 situated on a delightful spot of ground, 
 indeed, one of the most delightful I ever 
 saw—in the midst of a grove, on a cliff 
 
CORFU. 
 
 67 
 
 overhanging the sea, down the side of 
 which is a tangled walk to the shore, 
 where the white silvery sand is washed 
 by the clear blue wave. The prospect is 
 enchanting ; the town, the distant high 
 lands of Corfu, the mountains of Albania, 
 with the sea intervening and filling up 
 the landscape, with a beautiful sloping 
 foreground. As we strolled about we 
 could not but remark the similarity of 
 the scenery to that described by Homer 
 through which Ulysses, a stranger like 
 ourselves, sought the abode of the Lord 
 High of his day. 
 
 Brj p ’i/jLev tig v\rjv. — k. r. X. Odys. v. 475. 
 
 “ At length he took the passage to the wood, 
 
 Whose shady horrors on a rising brow 
 
 Waved high, and frown’d upon the stream below,’’ &c. 
 
 The exactness of these local portraits, 
 and especially the Sail of Ulysses , are, 
 it must be admitted, strongly in favour 
 of the general opinion of the identity of 
 Scheria and Corfu. Indeed, if the com¬ 
 mon opinion be correct, hereabout might be 
 
68 
 
 CORFU. 
 
 tlie site of the celebrated garden of Alci- 
 noiis, which—although it seems to have 
 been only a fruit and kitchen-garden— 
 Homer describes as being surrounded by 
 natural beauties of the kind we saw be¬ 
 fore us. 
 
 At]Oj.i£p ayXabv u\goq ’AOrjvrjQ. — k.t.X. Odys.vi.291. 
 
 “ Nigh where a grove with verdant poplars crown’d, 
 To Pallas sacred, shades the holy ground, 
 
 We bend our way: a bubbling fount distils 
 A lucid lake, and thence descends in rills ; 
 
 Around the grove, a mead with lively green 
 Falls by degrees, and forms a beauteous scene; 
 Here a rich juice the royal vineyard pours ; 
 
 And there the garden yields a waste of flowers. 
 Hence lies the town, as far as to the ear 
 Floats a strong shout along the waves of air.” 
 
 We wandered about this lovely spot for 
 several hours ; at last the approach of even¬ 
 ing compelled us to think of our return, dur¬ 
 ing which we fell in with a party of Greeks, 
 engaged in dancing to the music of their 
 own voices—a monotonous sing-song, while 
 the dance was equally tame and formal, 
 being no more than a step forward, with a 
 
CORFU. 
 
 69 
 
 sort of step backwards, all holding hands 
 in a circle. Their dresses however, and 
 the whole scene, were to us new and strik¬ 
 ing, and we loitered some time longer 
 looking at them, not at all eager to change 
 this animated picture for the dulness and 
 discomfort of our Locanda , where we were 
 unable to have any lire even in a brazier, 
 and could only keep out the cold, which we 
 felt rather sharply in the evenings, by put¬ 
 ting on our great coats and cloaks. 
 
 The remaining objects of curiosity which 
 Corfu afforded, were the Passes of Paleo- 
 castrizza, Pantaleone, and Garouni, and 
 to these we determined to allot three 
 different days, intending when we should 
 have expended the sights of the island, to 
 have taken a Guardiano , as the people of the 
 quarantine police are called, and crossed 
 over to the main land, to have a peep at 
 the Turkish dominions, 
 
 “With Suli’s rock and Parga’s shore 
 
 but in this last plan we were disappointed. 
 
70 
 
 CORFU. 
 
 for the wind was obstinately adverse to our 
 crossing. We performed the other three 
 trips in the order I have mentioned. 
 
 On Monday the 25th, we started for 
 Paleocastrizza in a barouche, and after 
 passing by a pretty town or village, that 
 — with its modest spire, and a large 
 park-like domain extending close to it, 
 where the squire might be supposed to 
 exercise old-fashioned hospitality — re¬ 
 minded us of Old England, we next 
 came to the Venetian Harbour , where 
 we had another of the lovely prospects 
 in which the island abounds, this dif¬ 
 fering from the others, in being softer 
 and more placid in its features: thence 
 * the road strikes directly across the island 
 through a wood of olives, the fruit of 
 which the peasants were gathering up 
 in baskets and taking to the oil-mills. 
 They do not seem able to overcome their 
 dislike of labour, even so far as to induce 
 them to climb the trees to pick the fruit. 
 
CORFU. 
 
 71 
 
 but they wait in patience till it drops 
 from ripeness or a gale of wind: they 
 may be practically right, but theoretically 
 it seemed to us that the fruit would be 
 likely to be in the greatest perfection if 
 carefully gathered. 
 
 After winding through these dark and 
 sombre woods—-with the occasional variety 
 of now and then passing by a precipice,— 
 at other times through rich valleys green 
 already with Indian corn,—we arrived at 
 a pass in the hills, within a mile or two 
 of our destination, whence the view was 
 superb. On one side, rose a naked pre¬ 
 cipice of red rock, some thousand feet 
 high, with a rude cross at its foot to mark 
 the spot where a soldier had been killed 
 by a falling mass of stone, when employed 
 in road-making : the sea spread out before 
 us was intensely blue, and studded with nu¬ 
 merous islets; and on the other side a green 
 hill covered with the arbutus and ever¬ 
 greens of various hues and forms. Through 
 
72 
 
 PALEOCASTRIZZA. 
 
 such scenery we arrived at Paleocastrizza, 
 a distance of sixteen miles from the capi¬ 
 tal, and over good military roads. Paleo- 
 castrizza was, no doubt, as its name im¬ 
 ports, an ancient fortress strongly situated 
 on an isolated rock impending over the 
 sea. A convent of the middle ages had 
 replaced the ancient works, and the edi¬ 
 fice was now half convent—half barrack, 
 occupied by a few monks and the conva¬ 
 lescent invalids of the garrison, sent here 
 to recover their strength. 
 
 So much has already been said about 
 scenery, that instead of entering into a de¬ 
 scription of the beauties which each of our 
 little tours in Corfu developed, it must suffice 
 to say, that—even in the opinion of those 
 who have had opportunities of comparing 
 it with other countries more celebrated for 
 the picturesque—Corfu is one of the love¬ 
 liest spots in the w T orld, with the greatest 
 variety of scene that can be conceived in 
 so small a space ; so here shall be an end 
 
GREEK FETE. 
 
 73 
 
 of scene-painting—else the views from the 
 windows of the convent are well worthy 
 the finest touches of either pencil or pen. 
 
 Having lunched here, we were anxious 
 to return to the town, as we were invited 
 to a ball at the Count Bulgari’s, one of the 
 first of the Ionian nobility, which of course 
 we were desirous of seeing, as a specimen 
 of the native society. We went at the 
 proper hour, and there found, to our sur¬ 
 prise and regret, that, although the fete was 
 given by a Greek, very few Greek ladies 
 were to be seen, and still fewer danced. 
 The scene was, however, gay, from the 
 variety of costume, Greek, Albanian, Bri¬ 
 tish naval and military uniforms, and plain 
 evening dresses like our own; and the 
 dancing was kept up with spirit by our 
 own countrywomen. 
 
 Our drive next morning was to the Pass 
 of Pantaleone, the highest point of the 
 road which crosses the mountain chain 
 that] divides the island from east to west. 
 
 E 
 
74 
 
 THE OPERA. 
 
 It is the only road to, and affords a fine 
 view over, the northern division of Corfu 
 and the other islet which claims the merit 
 of being Ulysses' Sail, on the vague and 
 improbable supposition that the capital of 
 Alcinous was situated on that side. 
 
 The Pass of Garoune, which we visited 
 the day after, commands in a like manner 
 the southern points, and is also very strik¬ 
 ing ; and when these three stations have 
 been visited, the traveller has obtained a 
 pretty general idea of the interior of Cor¬ 
 ey ra. 
 
 One night we went to the Opera, which 
 was obviously open to many criticisms, but 
 seemed on the whole very tolerable for the 
 Ionian Islands. 
 
 The carnival had now commenced, but 
 it w T as too early to see its full festivity, 
 which does not reach its height till the 
 nearer approach of Lent. The Corcyran 
 masquerades may well be expected to be 
 grotesque, when their executions are so. 
 
THE CARNIVAL. 
 
 75 
 
 A few weeks before our arrival a man had 
 been hanged for murder, aud one who 
 was an eye-witness described it as a pecu¬ 
 liarly disgusting sight; the executioner was 
 dressed in a party-coloured suit of red and 
 blue, with a mask of the same colours, 
 with one huge Cyclopean eye in the centre, 
 resembling nothing so much as the clown 
 in a Christmas pantomime : thus, to our 
 English ideas at least, mixing up horror 
 with mummery;—but perhaps, after all, the 
 party-coloured executioner may look as 
 awful in the eyes of the Corcyrans, as if 
 he were dressed in sables, and that his 
 mask had two eyes. 
 
76 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PATRAS.—PARNASSUS.—DELPHI.—CORINTH.—COASTING 
 VOYAGE ROUND SALAMIS. 
 
 [30th January to 3rd February.] 
 
 Eight days was the limit allotted by the 
 departure of the packet for our stay at 
 Corfu; and at the end of that time, we 
 were again paddling down through the 
 Ithaca Channel. On the 30 th January — 
 twenty-seven days from leaving England— 
 we landed in Greece itself, at the town of 
 Patras, in the Morea ; and found ourselves 
 amongst a people, whose spoken language, 
 though we were not unacquainted with 
 classical Greek, we could not—owing to 
 the difference of our pronunciation—at 
 all understand. On this subject, I shall 
 make a few observations by-and-by. We 
 
PATRAS. 
 
 77 
 
 had, however, hired at Corfu a semi- 
 Greek servant, a Zantiote, Demetri by 
 name, with volubility enough for all. He 
 bustled about, and, after some search, 
 led us to the “ Hotel of Great Britain,” 
 for Patras does boast an hotel. Hav¬ 
 ing gone through the form (which was 
 very slight) of passing the custom-house— 
 obtained our passports, and hired a boat 
 for the morrow,—which for the sum of 
 twelve dollars was to convey us to Corinth, 
 staying one day at Scala de Salona, in 
 order that we might visit Delphi,—we set 
 forth to see Patras and its neighbourhood. 
 
 Half way up the mountain, at the foot 
 of which stands the town, is the castle, a 
 post of considerable importance during the 
 late wars. When Germanos, the patriot 
 Archbishop of Patras, first raised the 
 standard of Independence in 1821, the 
 Turks destroyed the lower town and re¬ 
 tired to this castle, which after a long 
 siege was taken ; it was more recently held 
 by one of the independent Greek chief- 
 
78 
 
 PATRAS; 
 
 tains, in spite of several corps having been 
 sent against it, from the time of Capo 
 d’Istrias’s death, till the present king’s 
 arrival, when the Moreote chief quietly 
 surrendered it to the royal authorities. It 
 is now fast falling into decay, and there 
 does not appear to be any intention of 
 keeping a force in it. 
 
 Patras—anciently Patrse—is reported 
 by Pausanias to be of high antiquity; but 
 it seems to have fallen into decay and 
 insignificance, till Augustus restored and 
 enlarged it. Pausanias tells us of the 
 magnificence of its edifices. Temples of 
 Ceres — Bacchus Calydonius — Jupiter 
 Olympius—Diana Laphria, and above all, 
 an Odeion, the most ornamented, he says, 
 of all Greece, except that of Herodes 
 Atticus, at Athens. Nothing of all this 
 now appears but the ruin of one temple 
 near the shore, said commonly to be that of 
 Diana ; and this is probable enough, for 
 Diana was the “great Goddess” of the 
 Patreeans as well as of the Ephesians ; but 
 
PATRAS. 
 
 79 
 
 some circumstances mentioned by Pausa- 
 nias relative to the contiguity of the Temple 
 of Ceres to a certain fountain—the which 
 fountain, or one at least that answers the 
 description, still exists—make it more pro¬ 
 bable that these ruins are those of the Temple 
 of Ceres. Pausanias gives an account of 
 an oracle, distinguished by him as “ a true 
 one,” which was delivered from the bottom 
 of this fountain. We, too, heard on the 
 spot a similar tradition; and as a secret 
 passage has been discovered between the 
 ruins of this temple and this fountain, the 
 mystery of the " true oracle ” is cleared 
 up; and a remarkable corroboration is 
 afforded of the truth, both of Pausanias’s 
 statement, and of the rational suspicion 
 which has been confirmed by so many late 
 discoveries, that these ancient oracles were 
 worked by means of secret communica¬ 
 tions—subterranean or intermural. Be 
 all this as it may, this temple is now a 
 Greek church. 
 
so 
 
 PATRAS. 
 
 In all probability, tlie town will, under 
 a quiet government, rise to some import¬ 
 ance, from its local situation at the en¬ 
 trance of the Gulf of Corinth ; for already 
 there is an appearance of trade, and sub¬ 
 stantial houses in regular streets are build¬ 
 ing on a fixed plan. 
 
 We here found that an English gentle¬ 
 man, who had accompanied us in the packet 
 from Corfu, intended—like ourselves—a 
 tour in Greece. We soon made acquaint¬ 
 ance, and joined company. Our new com¬ 
 panion, Mr. Johnstone of Alva , in Stirling¬ 
 shire, was an experienced traveller, and a 
 most agreeable gentleman ; and nothing 
 could have been more fortunate for us than 
 our junction with him. 
 
 The main topic of conversation with the 
 Patreeans, at this time, was the capture of 
 a band of robbers at Vostizza, (the an¬ 
 cient ^Egium, a town on the Moreote side 
 of the Gulf of Lepanto,) who had long 
 been the scourge of the neighbourhood. 
 
PATRAS. 
 
 81 
 
 These Klephts (the modern Greek 
 term for robbers, and it is hardly thought 
 a term of reproach,) had attacked and 
 entered a house in broad day; but the 
 screams of the females alarming the vil¬ 
 lage, the house was surrounded, and the 
 robbers taken in the trap—after losing 
 one of their own number, and shooting 
 several of their assailants. They were,, 
 while we were at Patras, on board the 
 Greek Admiral’s ship, waiting a convey¬ 
 ance to Napoli*, where they were to stand, 
 their trial. 
 
 We had been advised to land at Vos- 
 tizza and visit the convent of Megaspelia, 
 celebrated for having been the head-quar¬ 
 ters of the Archbishop Germanos, and 
 
 * Napoli seems still to be the seat of criminal justice ; 
 for while this is passing through the press, I learn that 
 the execution of two brothers, of the name of Condro- 
 jannis, which was to have taken place there on the 31st 
 January, was postponed, by the assassination of the 
 executioner the night before ; and it was expected that 
 they must be shot by the German troops, as some other 
 criminals have recently been. 
 
 E 3 
 
82 
 
 MEGASPELIA. 
 
 for having withstood, in the subsequent 
 wars, Ibrahim Pacha with all his forces. 
 The situation is described as being a shelf 
 on the face of a rock, so very precipitous, 
 that when the attacking party rolled stones 
 from the heights above, they descended 
 into the valley beneath without touching 
 the building, which was equally out of the 
 reach of shot from below. We presumed 
 from these circumstances and the name, 
 that the chief portion of the convent is a 
 great cave (r^Xaiov) in the rock, and 
 that only a portion of it protruded beyond 
 the face of the precipice. As this place, 
 however, is on the south shore of the gulf, 
 while Delphi is on the north, and as we 
 could not, without the risk of much delay, 
 accomplish both visits, we decided with¬ 
 out hesitation for the latter. 
 
 Sunday , 31 January . Our embarka¬ 
 tion from Patras was not auspicious; the 
 wind, though fair, blowing a gale, accom¬ 
 panied with heavy rain and a high sea. 
 
LEPANTO. 
 
 83 
 
 At ten o’clock, however, we started ; and 
 having passed the narrow entrance, hardly 
 a mile wide, between the castles of the 
 Morea and Nepacto, sometimes called the 
 Dardanelles of Lepanto, we were within 
 the gulf of that name. Our bark was some 
 twenty tons in burden, and about twenty 
 feet in length, with a crew of five hands. 
 
 The captain was a fine handsome man, 
 with a perfect Greek face, intelligent and 
 good-tempered ; clad in the Hydriote cos¬ 
 tume—the common dress of all the sailors 
 of these parts; with him were an old and 
 young man,— two merry boys, of about 
 twelve years old, and may I venture to 
 add a cat, whose manners and habits 
 were certainly not very catlike; it had 
 rather more of the social temper and traits 
 of the dog, and had been well disciplined 
 by the boys. At the word of command, 
 (Gatto morto ,) she would lie down and 
 feign to be dead, nor would the poor ani¬ 
 mal, though pinched, and pulled, and 
 
84 
 
 SCALA. 
 
 beaten, move, until another command set 
 her at liberty. Such was our boat, and 
 such our crew’; and such—till sickness 
 overcame us—Avas our pastime. 
 
 But the gale increased ; and owing to 
 the rain, the land on either side was ob¬ 
 scured, even had we been able to raise our 
 heads; but the sea-nausea overmastered us, 
 nor was it until w T e found ourselves, at 
 four o’clock, in the snug little harbour of 
 Scala, that w r e were able to appear on 
 deck. 
 
 Half a dozen houses, with a custom¬ 
 house and inn, constitute the village of 
 Scala de Salona—so called from being the 
 stairs or landing-place of Salona —the 
 ancient Amphissce , about ten miles in the 
 interior. The reader must not be led 
 astray by the title—inn ; for the hovel to 
 which it is applied, Avas neither better 
 built, nor furnished, than a coAVshed in 
 England. A long hut, of Avhich only one 
 Avail Avas solid, and that Avas of mud ; the 
 
SCALA. 
 
 85 
 
 other three sides were darkened, rather 
 than sheltered, by shutters, which stood 
 open by day ; hut even when closed, pre¬ 
 vented the ingress of the winds as little as 
 
 o 
 
 the roof did that of the rain. The floor 
 was of earth; while a low sort of dresser 
 or bench, like an eastern divan, ran all 
 round, forming the bed-place of the whole 
 party, in number about twenty. This was 
 our inn ; in which, notwithstanding Fal- 
 staff’s authority, w r e found it rather diffi¬ 
 cult to take our ease. The earthen floor, 
 however, which looked at first sight so un¬ 
 comfortable, had its advantage, by enabling 
 us to kindle a fire in the centre of the edi¬ 
 fice, which soon partially warmed it. We 
 changed our w 7 et clothes, and were already 
 prepared with good appetites for a toler¬ 
 able supper, of which our servants had 
 prudently made provision at Patras. 
 
 Our arrival w r e now found was a matter 
 of considerable interest in this little out-of- 
 the-way place ; and w r e were soon sur- 
 
86 
 
 PARNASSUS. 
 
 rounded by a party of villagers, narrowly 
 watching our proceedings. They examined 
 our books, and noticed the Greek among 
 them with a smile of recognition; and one 
 -—the scholar of the party—showed us an 
 antique ring, and asked in return to see 
 mine, which happened to bear the em¬ 
 blem of a sphinx, and the motto MOMl 
 OlAinOAl, (to CEdipus alone) *— he im¬ 
 mediately made out the figure, and even 
 the motto, though reversed on the seal, 
 and pointing in an eastern direction, pro¬ 
 nounced the word Theve ,*—the modern 
 sound of Thebes. Having proceeded to 
 question him, through the unclassical chan¬ 
 nel of our servants, we made out by their 
 interpretation, that he was well acquainted 
 
 * These classical recollections are familiar to the 
 Greeks. When the Rev. Mr. Swan, chaplain to the 
 Cambrian Frigate, visited Napoli, and climbed the 
 Palamedean Rock, he happened to carry a tridented eel 
 spear to help his steps; he was afterwards known 
 among the common people by the name of Uomtiuv — 
 Neptune. 
 
PARNASSUS. 
 
 87 
 
 with the story. Our visitors soon perceived 
 that we were fatigued, and civilly retiring, 
 left us to our slumbers on the benches. 
 
 The next morning was very fine, and 
 having ordered our horses the preceding 
 evening, we started for Parnassus at six 
 o’clock, but certainly none of the steeds 
 resembled Pegasus, or, perhaps indeed, the 
 whole story of Pegasus may be an alle¬ 
 gory to convey a plain truth, that to get 
 over such roads horses would have need 
 of wings. Our train was very ludicrous 
 to English eyes, and its appearance afforded 
 us some amusement at the expense of each 
 other. The path at first crossed the Cris- 
 ssean plain, partly cultivated and abound¬ 
 ing with the oleander ; afterwards through 
 an olive-grove, the trees of which bear a 
 peculiarly fine fruit, distinguished by the 
 name of Columbades. From this the 
 ascent begins, and is in some places very 
 difficult, nowhere easy ; about half way 
 up we passed -Orissa, having a view of 
 
88 
 
 DELPHI. 
 
 Galaxidi to the south-west, and Salona to 
 the north-west. Just before we arrived 
 at Delphi, we saw several ancient tombs, 
 excavated from the rock, on either side of 
 the path ; they are chiefly single, hut one 
 we entered had been the last resting-place 
 of three persons. On passing through a 
 rudely arched doorway we found ourselves 
 in a chamber with a sarcophagus on either 
 side, and a third in front; over each was 
 a small niche in the wall for a lamp or 
 figure: the covers were gone, and there 
 was nothing to he seen within, hut the 
 stone pillows for the heads of the deceased. 
 
 Delphi is situated some five or six miles 
 up the sides of the mountain range, which, 
 about eight or ten miles farther, terminates 
 in the summit of Parnassus ; hut Delphi, 
 contrary to the received opinion, has little 
 local connexion with Parnassus, properly 
 so called, and is not even in sight of it, as 
 I shall presently show. 
 
 The village is now called Castri, a word 
 
DELPHI. 
 
 89 
 
 of Roman derivation, which we find fre¬ 
 quently applied to ruins throughout Greece, 
 and sometimes, strangely enough, in com¬ 
 bination with pure Greek adjuncts, as 
 Paleocastri, the ancient camp. How the 
 sacred ruins of Delphi came to be pecu¬ 
 liarly distinguished by a military name, it 
 is not easy to guess—no doubt the riches 
 of the Temples which naturally tempted 
 plunderers, would suggest that they should 
 be surrounded with some works to protect 
 them from a coup-de-main—but as all 
 towns were probably so defended, it would 
 not account for the distinctive appellation in 
 this instance; and I therefore conclude that 
 it was derived from the disposition of the 
 middle ages to see in every ruin the re¬ 
 mains of places of defence,—the only kind 
 of works to which they could attach any 
 idea of utility. 
 
 At present, however, Castri presents no 
 traces of any fortifications, and except in 
 its massive foundations few remains of that 
 
90 
 
 DELPHI. 
 
 vast series of temples and other public 
 edifices described by Pausanias. 
 
 “The streets of palaces and walks of state”— 
 
 are vanished from the face of the earth ! 
 
 We had neither time, nor mechani¬ 
 cal means, for endeavouring to trace the 
 extensive and complicated foundations— 
 the roots, if I may use the expression—of 
 this prostrate city, nor do I pretend to 
 sufficient learning to be able to appropriate 
 correctly to their ancient purposes, even 
 the ruins which were visible.—My reader 
 must needs be satisfied with a hasty and 
 unlearned view, and such an account as we 
 gathered from the chief man of the place, 
 who was himself no great scholar, but vo¬ 
 lunteered to be our guide, and performed 
 his office with good-humour and some in¬ 
 telligence. 
 
 The general aspect of the village proved 
 the accuracy of Pausanias’s description of 
 the site of the ancient town : it is built on 
 terraces of masonry, rising above one an- 
 
DELPHI. 
 
 91 
 
 other in regular gradation, and having all 
 the features of great antiquity; on the 
 right as you enter the village are the 
 foundation walls of an old temple, forming 
 a square of about one hundred yards each 
 way, in the centre of which stands a 
 miserable Greek church, dedicated, I be¬ 
 lieve, to St. Elias. Advancing from this, 
 we entered the village, and having put up 
 our horses, were guided first to the Am¬ 
 phitheatre, an immense work, whose seats, 
 hollowed out of the rock, are still almost 
 perfect; thence to the Castalian Spring, 
 which rises at the foot of what have been 
 so long celebrated as the double peaks of 
 Parnassus ; but in fact, as I have said, the 
 summit of Parnassus, properly so called, 
 is some miles off, and not even visible, be¬ 
 ing concealed by a bare precipitous rock 
 which rises, immediately behind the foun¬ 
 tain, one hundred or one hundred and fifty 
 feet in height; up the face of which ex¬ 
 tends a rugged cleft that at the top sepa- 
 
92 
 
 DELPHI. 
 
 rates the rock into two sharpish peaks, 
 which though of a height comparatively 
 insignificant, hide, by means of their prox¬ 
 imity, the rest of the mountain, and are 
 commonly, hut erroneously, called the 
 double head of Parnassus ; for the mountain 
 itself, which we saw from several points, 
 has nothing like a double summit. On 
 the face of the rock are three semicircular- 
 headed niches, which have a formal and 
 unromantic appearance ; on the right, very 
 little above the level of the ground, is a 
 fourth, of larger dimensions, in fact a shal¬ 
 low cave, which is now converted, by the 
 addition of a poor shed * with a lean-to 
 roof, into a small rude chapel, dedicated to 
 St. John,—on the walls of which are in¬ 
 scribed the names of several visitors, and 
 amongst them that of “ Byron” with the 
 date, 1809. 
 
 The Castalian Spring itself appears in the 
 
 * This hovel is not exhibited in Dr. Clarke's drawing, 
 though he mentions its being the Chapel of St. John. 
 
DELPHI. 
 
 93 
 
 unpoetical shape of a parallelogram, which 
 has been obviously formed for the purpose 
 of a bath, (a very shallow one) in which, as 
 we read, the Pythia performed her ablutions 
 before she ascended the sacred tripod. 
 
 We, according to custom, drank of the 
 Castalian stream, but we understand that 
 the benefit of its inspiration depends on the 
 posture in which the specific is taken ;—if 
 the votary stoop his lips to the fountain, 
 the effect is one thing; if he scoop up the 
 sacred water in his hand, it is quite an 
 other. I do not recollect which mode is 
 supposed to confer the inspiration, but as 
 I stooped to drink, I fear my readers will 
 have discovered that this was not the fa¬ 
 vourable attitude. I think one of the trage¬ 
 dians, though I have not been able to re¬ 
 cover the passage, mentions that (Edipus, 
 when he came to consult the oracle, sat by 
 the fountain under the shade of a plane-tree; 
 and if mv recollection of this incident be 
 correct, it is singular that there is, close to 
 
94 
 
 DELPHI. 
 
 the fountain, the stump of a plane-tree 
 now in the very last stage of decay, and, no 
 doubt, of great antiquity; not, of course, 
 that which the poets described, but a tree 
 may have been propagated here succes¬ 
 sively on the spot, and cherished for the 
 sake of old traditions. 
 
 After lingering some time about this most 
 interesting scene, we followed our cicerone 
 to some tombs about a mile to the east- , 
 ward of the spring; among others was a 
 beautiful sarcophagus of white marble, 
 with sculptured figures of men and women, 
 horses and griffins, round the sides—the 
 story meant to be told we could not make 
 out; on the cover reclined the figure of 
 a woman in an easy, graceful posture, 
 something in the way of the figures which 
 we see recumbent on tombs in our own 
 churches, but from the life of the attitude 
 (though the head was gone), as well as the 
 beauty of the design, infinitely surpassing 
 anything of the kind we had ever seen. 
 
DELPHI. 
 
 95 
 
 We are not sure that our guide might not 
 have been induced by some view of his 
 own to take us this walk (which, however, 
 was very interesting), for we found that he 
 was the proprietor of the ground, and 
 offered us this sarcophagus for sale, at the 
 rate of, I think, about £400. From this 
 we returned, passing a labyrinth of massy 
 walls and fragments of pillars sufficient, 
 we thought, for a dozen temples, but which 
 our guide said was the site and remains of 
 the great Temple of Apollo ; — another 
 mass he called the tomb of Kronos. —We, 
 not knowing that Father Time, our ancient 
 enemy, was buried here, or indeed that he 
 was dead, inquired who Kronos was; when 
 the guide reminded us that we had for¬ 
 gotten for the moment the ancient name of 
 Saturn , by stating that Kronos was a 
 king who ate his own children, and was 
 at last deposed by them. 
 
 It was interesting to find this tradition 
 of so ancient a fable on the very spot 
 
96 
 
 TOMB OF KRONOS, 
 
 where the most ancient of poets lays the 
 scene—for, no doubt, the story alluded to 
 by our guide is the same told by Hesiod, 
 in his Theogony. 
 
 Tw de mrayyaviaaaa yeyav \idov. k. t. X. 
 
 “ When the old God, who once could boast his reign 
 O’er all the gods and the ethereal plain, 
 
 Grew jealous of the infant’s future power, 
 
 A stone the mother gave him to devour ; 
 
 Greedy he seized the imaginary child, 
 
 And swallowed heedless, by the dress beguiled. 
 
 But soon, again, he yielded to the day. 
 
 The stone deceitful, and his latest prey. 
 
 This, Jove, in memory of the wondrous tale, 
 
 Fixed on Parnassus in the sacred vale , 
 
 In Pytho the divine—a mark to be. 
 
 That f uture ages may astonished seeP 
 
 Cooke, 733. 
 
 Certainly we were astonished to find this 
 most ancient of fables alive in the tradi¬ 
 tions of modern Castri. 
 
 Having thus imperfectly visited these 
 interesting scenes, and inscribed our names 
 in a book kept by our guide, to gratify the 
 curiosity of future travellers, we departed 
 on our return to Scala, well pleased with 
 
GULF OF CORINTH. 
 
 97 
 
 our excursion, which had already overpaid 
 all the desagremens of our expedition. If 
 we had seen no more of Greece, this day 
 at Delphi would have been ample compen¬ 
 sation even for sea-sickness, quarantine, 
 and the inn at Scala. 
 
 Here however we had no desire to pass 
 a second night, and therefore immedi¬ 
 ately reimbarked with a fair wind, hop¬ 
 ing to reach Corinth by daybreak; but 
 our padrone, or captain, asked permission 
 to stop for a few minutes at Galaxide, 
 a little town at the entrance of the bay 
 of Scala, which we, with more ^ood- 
 
 o 
 
 nature than prudence, granted, and in 
 consequence found ourselves the next 
 morning at daybreak in a dead calm, 
 twelve miles from Corinth, though in sight 
 of it he had wasted four or five hours, 
 instead of as many minutes, and that 
 too while the wind was favourable, as it 
 did not lull until six o’clock in the morning. 
 We had, however, reason to suspect that 
 
 F 
 
98 
 
 LUTRARCHI. 
 
 we were wrong in thinking he had wasted 
 his time, for in all probability he made 
 good use of it in smuggling, as his move¬ 
 ments were very suspicious, and led us to 
 suppose that he had some such object. He 
 did not enter the harbour, but kept beat¬ 
 ing on and off; and when his boat took 
 him on shore and brought him back, we 
 observed that the men did not speak, and 
 barely dipped their oars—I am now con¬ 
 vinced, Avith a view to avoid making 
 so much noise as would alarm the cus¬ 
 tom-house officers. Our anger Avas not 
 a little excited, and the culprit Avas aAvare 
 that he deserved it. The creAv were, in 
 consequence, set to hard work, rowing 
 their clumsy bark, and by the aid of oars 
 avc reached at 12 o’clock, not Corinth, but 
 Lutrarchi, a little village on the opposite 
 side of the bay. In consequence of the 
 custom-house being at this place, all boats 
 are compelled to go there first; and as it 
 was (as has already been stated) a calm. 
 
LUTRARCHI. 
 
 99 
 
 there was not much use in proceeding at 
 the snail’s pace we had been moving at for 
 the last six hours: we therefore landed, 
 refusing our padrone the buona-mano , or 
 gratuity usually given in addition to the sum 
 agreed upon; and we tried to hire horses. 
 Here was a new difficulty—the owners of 
 the beasts offered to us as horses, de¬ 
 manded six drachmae each for their hire 
 to Corinth: this we knew was exorbitant, 
 three being a liberal price; but as they 
 fancied we were at their mercy, not a jot 
 was to be abated. The point in dispute 
 was a trifle, but we determined not to 
 submit to an imposition ; and to show them 
 our independence, we hired a boat to land 
 us on the opposite side, from which we 
 walked two miles to Corinth—hot and tired, 
 I admit, but with the consolation of having 
 baffled the Greek extortioners, and having 
 seen a little more of the country ; though, 
 sooth to say, that little was not worth the 
 walk, being only sand and furze, with the 
 
 F 2 
 
100 
 
 CORINTH. 
 
 same prospect in the distance which we had 
 had from the water. 
 
 We left one servant at Lutrarchi to 
 proceed straight to Calamachi, our place 
 of embarkation for Athens, with the bag¬ 
 gage, while the other accompanied us. 
 The view of Corinth from a distance is 
 fine, and gives the idea of an extensive city ; 
 but on entering, you find that it is like the 
 Dead-sea Apple, specious without, but 
 all rubbish within. Such a mass of ruin 
 and desolation had never presented itself 
 to my fancy before : but during the rest 
 of our journey through the More a I 
 got accustomed to such scenes. Ruins 
 —ancient and modern, and little else— 
 presented themselves in melancholy abun¬ 
 dance and undistinguishable confusion. 
 Climbing over masses of masonry and by 
 ruined walls, we at length arrived in the 
 main streets of Corinth: here there was 
 some little appearance of life and trade, of 
 which the suburbs gave no promise ; houses 
 
CORINTH. 
 
 101 
 
 were building, and shops were opened, in 
 some of which we recognised the handy- 
 works of Birmingham. We asked for the 
 Khan , (for that Turkish appellation pre¬ 
 vails in Greece,) and on entering it, our 
 host * informed us that he had porter,— 
 ay, genuine London porter!—this was a 
 luxury we dreamed not of, and which our 
 
 * Mr. Burgess, a former traveller, (whose itinerary I 
 much regret not having known before we began ours,) de¬ 
 scribes this man as a ‘ villainous Cephaloniote .’ He does 
 not state why he bestows this epithet upon him ; but the 
 following melancholy and mysterious occurrence is not 
 calculated to improve the reputation of his hotel. The 
 Purser of His Majesty’s ship Portland, while the ship 
 was at anchor at Calamachi, started with some brother 
 officers for a walk to Corinth over the isthmus, in the 
 month of August last, 1836. When ascending the Acro- 
 Corinthus, he left his own party, joining another to get 
 on faster. In about an hour he descended, passing his 
 former party, to whom he said, “ he had seen enough,” 
 and returned to the town, where a Greek gentleman, of 
 whom he inquired for the hotel, conducted him to within 
 fifty yards of it, and there left him. This occurred at 
 nine o’clock in the morning, and since that time nothing 
 has been discovered which can give a clue to the fate 
 of this unfortunate gentleman, though every exertion 
 has been made both by his brother officers, and the 
 authorities, and inhabitants of the town. 
 
102 
 
 CORINTH. 
 
 walk made doubly agreeable. I know not 
 whether it be fancy or nationality, but 
 wherever I have been in hot climates, and 
 able to procure a draught of London por¬ 
 ter, I have found that it was the most 
 refreshing thing I had ever tasted, with 
 the greatest power of satisfying thirst.— 
 Thus refreshed, we proceeded sight seeing, 
 having sent our servant to engage horses 
 for the ride across the isthmus. A temple 
 situated in the upper part of the town has 
 given rise to much discussion as to the 
 date of its erection, and the deity to which it 
 was dedicated. It has seven remaining 
 columns—monoliths, or of one piece ; but, 
 to my unpractised eye, rather stumpy, with 
 the entablature still existing over five: 
 they are of the Doric order, but not of the 
 usual proportions, being, as far as we could 
 ascertain, only twenty-six feet high, and 
 full six in diameter. 
 
 A short distance from this is an exca¬ 
 vation in the precipice of the citadel, the 
 
ACRO-CORINTHUS. 
 
 103 
 
 Acro-Corinthus, which has been probably 
 the tomb of a hero, but is now a cow¬ 
 house. In the Acro-Corinthus are some 
 remains, but indistinct, and comparatively 
 uninteresting for the want of a name. Co¬ 
 rinth is not rich in classical recollections. 
 The ascent is very steep, and occupies— 
 short as the distance is—nearly an hour, 
 in which the activity of Mr. Johnstone 
 greatly excelled that of his companions ; 
 and the view from it comprehends the most 
 interesting portion of Greece. Athens, 
 Salamis, and Egina to the east; to the 
 south-east, several islands of the iEgean ; 
 Cithaeron, Helicon, Parnassus, stretching 
 from north to west; with Sicyon on the left 
 side of the gulf; and the mountains of 
 the Morea far beyond Argos and Mycenae, 
 down to the southward. Such a prospect 
 amply repays the toil of the ascent. 
 
 Immediately on our return to the Khan, 
 we mounted our horses, and started for a 
 moonlight ride across the isthmus. The 
 
104 
 
 ISTHMUS OF CORINTH. 
 
 moon was full, and not even a cloud to cross 
 it; the scene reminded us of Lord Byron’s 
 “ Alp, the Adrian renegade,” and his 
 “ promised bride,” seated beneath the 
 walls of the city; and though we heard 
 the growling and barking of the wild and 
 ferocious shepherds’ dogs, we were glad to 
 think that they were not engaged in so 
 romantic an employment as “ peeling the 
 flesh from a Tartar’s skull.” The paces 
 of our horses were so rough, that two of 
 the party could not endure them, and pre¬ 
 ferred walking the distance to Calamachi, 
 about nine miles. One complaint was that, 
 what with the height of the saddle in front, 
 and the horse carrying his head well-nigh 
 between his legs, the rider could not pos¬ 
 sibly see the beast’s ears. There was just 
 sufficient light to enable us to discern some 
 beauties, and fancy more. The isthmus I 
 had always supposed to be like that of 
 Gibraltar, a sandy level; and so from Sir 
 W. Gell’s views it appears to be in its 
 
ISTHMUS OF CORINTH. 
 
 105 
 
 narrowest part, where it is six miles across; 
 but by this road and this light, a ravine 
 with a watercourse, along the margin of 
 which we rode for some time, struck us as 
 singularly romantic. To this succeeded 
 the quiet lovely Bay of Cenchrese glittering 
 in the moonlight, on whose shore stood a 
 village, from which we heard the distant 
 hum of voices, accompanied with the merry 
 laugh, while the glancing lights from the 
 cottages, and some barks at anchor, showed 
 us whence the sounds proceeded. A few 
 dromedaries, which are used in the traffic 
 over the isthmus, crouching on the sands, 
 with their picturesque heads erect in the 
 moonlight, startled us like a vision of the 
 East, and gave an oriental character to the 
 scene. 
 
 The ride and walk had sharpened our 
 appetites, and the sight of our servant 
 at the door of one of the huts of Cala- 
 machi, informing us that he had prepared 
 supper, was very agreeable. Our repast 
 
 f 3 
 
106 
 
 CALAMACHI. 
 
 was served up in the common room, full 
 of parties drinking and gambling, but 
 on a raised platform, (of which there were 
 four, one at each corner,) supported on 
 posts, from whence we had a good view 
 of the scene below. Having immediately 
 on our arrival hired a boat, we left our 
 dining gallery about eleven o’clock, in¬ 
 tending to start at once ; but we found, to 
 our dismay, that Greece was become a 
 civilized country; for, on preparing to step 
 into the bark, we were stopped by a soldier, 
 who said that we could not proceed without 
 certain permissory papers. The house at 
 which we might obtain them was pointed 
 out; but the door was locked, and the in¬ 
 mates in bed. In vain we knocked, or 
 rather thundered, the man slept like Poly- 
 pheme: at last we awaked him ; but he 
 refused to rise : our servants abused him 
 roundly; told him we were the bearers 
 of important dispatches ; threatened that 
 he should be punished for detaining us— 
 
CALAMACHI. 
 
 107 
 
 and I know not what besides; but he was 
 •inflexible, and would not move. A coun¬ 
 cil of war was then held, and it was sug¬ 
 gested, that if by our noises we prevented 
 his sleeping, he must submit, if it were 
 only to get rid of such troublesome appli¬ 
 cants. The plan was politic, and at length 
 successful. After a siege of an hour’s 
 duration, the official dignitary got up in 
 great wrath, swearing at us, and saying 
 he did not believe a word about the dis¬ 
 patches. As the fable was the invention 
 of his own countryman, we quieted our 
 consciences by the proverb, “ when Greek 
 meets Greek—” and did not much care what 
 he believed or what he did not, so that we 
 got our papers and passports; in which 
 having succeeded, we mollified the poor 
 man’s wrath, (he was a good-looking sub¬ 
 altern officer) by the present of a few 
 drachmae ; at the same time giving his 
 assistant a little tea, which he had re¬ 
 quested, or rather stipulated for, as the 
 
108 
 
 SALAMIS. 
 
 price of his aid in rousing his superior. 
 We now congratulated ourselves on hav¬ 
 ing saved a day, and went on board, 
 stretching ourselves on the gravel which 
 formed the ballast in the hold of the boat, 
 which we preferred to the cabin—the latter 
 having all the appearance of being the 
 abode of other inhabitants than the human 
 beings for whom it professed to be exclu¬ 
 sively intended. 
 
 The morn rose, fair and lovely, but, alas ! 
 with little wind, and that little against us : 
 we were between Egina (now pronounced 
 Egina) and Salamis, with a distant sight 
 of the Acropolis—a noble prospect, which 
 we could not adequately enjoy ; for beside 
 the vexation of delay, we were suffering 
 under a dearth of provisions, and the ab¬ 
 sence of any means of personal comfort— 
 in short, we were in a sorry plight. 
 We tacked and tacked, and lost by every 
 tack. At last the captain put about to go 
 round the isle of Salamis, a detour which 
 
CATTLE OF SALAMIS. 
 
 109 
 
 brought us close to Megara, apparently a 
 large town ; but after our experience at 
 Corinth, I shall not venture to hazard any 
 surmises about its interior condition. The 
 island of Sal amis is here not a quarter of 
 a mile from the main : the communication 
 is kept up by a ferry, where we succeeded 
 in getting some small fishes, which in our 
 need seemed to us delicious. 
 
 About sunset w T e were off Eleusis, and 
 on the waters which had witnessed the 
 destruction of the Persian fleet, in the 
 battle of Salamis. The manoeuvre, by 
 which we are told the enemy’s fleet was put 
 into confusion and the victory w T on, is 
 easily understood on the spot, where the 
 impossibility of even twenty ships working 
 is manifest, and the confusion which the 
 light Grecian galleys caused by the ra¬ 
 pidity of their attack upon the crowded 
 fleet of the Persians rendered all attempt 
 at restoring order in so narrow a strait 
 perfectly vain. The height on which the 
 
110 
 
 SALAMIS. 
 
 haughty Persian sate was behind us, the 
 setting sun gilding its summit; and had 
 it not been that we were half famished, 
 and greatly disappointed in not reaching 
 Athens a day sooner, we should, no doubt, 
 have exceedingly enjoyed a scene so rich 
 with classic objects and recollections. As 
 it was, they in a great degree compensated 
 for the delay and hunger which we suf¬ 
 fered. 
 
 It was dark before we entered the Porto 
 Leone, or Peireeus, and too late for land¬ 
 ing. The harbour w'as full of shipping, 
 and among them we cast anchor, and 
 crept below to our gravelly bed, on which 
 we were reluctantly obliged to pass another 
 night. 
 
Ill 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PEIR^US AND ATHENS. 
 
 [4TH AND 5TH FEBRUARY.] 
 
 At daybreak we were up, and ready to 
 land, long before the permission to do so 
 was granted us. In the Peirseus, the de¬ 
 scendants of the victors of Salamis could 
 now boast but of two small Athenian ves¬ 
 sels of war, while the Flag of England, a 
 country whose very existence was unknown 
 to Themistocles, floated on two splendid 
 specimens of her navy, the Portland and 
 Medea , one in attendance on each of the 
 Gothic kings who are now the rulers of the 
 destinies of Greece, the King of Bavaria, 
 and his son Otho , whose name as King of 
 
112 
 
 PEIRiEUS. 
 
 Greece , sounds in our ears somewhat un- 
 classical—a kind of political false quan¬ 
 tity. Russia also and France were repre¬ 
 sented by ships of war; and of merchant 
 vessels of various nations there was a fair 
 sprinkling. 
 
 When we landed, the business of the 
 day had commenced, and the pack-horses 
 were arriving from the city with their 
 loads. We might have hired ponies to 
 ride to Athens, but we had a kind of en¬ 
 thusiasm to trace and tread with our own 
 feet the celebrated pocxpa rzi%n 3 or Long 
 Walls ; along the line of which we an¬ 
 ticipated many interesting objects. Leav¬ 
 ing therefore our servants to follow with 
 the luggage, we walked through the 
 market, thronged with buyers and sellers, 
 on either side of which stores and public 
 buildings of the same character as the 
 stores were built and building. We soon 
 arrived at a part of the road where old 
 foundations were visible, in which we re- 
 
LONG WALLS. 
 
 113 
 
 cognised with a lively sensation the hong 
 Walls. While the road continued straight, 
 these remains were visible; hut it soon took 
 a turn, and we lost sight of them, and were 
 disappointed in not finding any object 
 of classical curiosity, to repay us for a hot 
 and tiresome walk along a bad and unin¬ 
 teresting road. On the right hand of the 
 road, and about a mile and half from the 
 Peireeus, a monument has been erected to 
 the Greeks who fell in an action with the 
 Turks, April, 1827; when a distinguished 
 British naval officer, then serving with the 
 Greeks, too sanguinely supposed that an 
 irregular and ill-armed infantry could 
 withstand the charge of Turkish cavalry, 
 and found out his mistake at the cost of 
 many lives*. Bavarians and reeks were 
 at work breaking stones by the way side, 
 while others were levelling the road and 
 forming its surface. 
 
 * Howe’s Greek Revolution, p. 414. 
 
114 
 
 ATHENS. 
 
 Shortly before entering the city we fell 
 in with an Athenian cicerone , (if I may 
 use an Italian term on such an occa¬ 
 sion,) who had just returned from Ma¬ 
 rathon, whither he had accompanied some 
 officers of the English ships. He offered 
 his services to conduct us to an hotel, 
 which we accepted; and he remained 
 attached to us during the whole of our 
 stay. 
 
 Our first impression of Athens was 
 a feeling of disappointment, but that 
 gradually vanished; every moment re¬ 
 vealed new beauties, and kindled fresh in¬ 
 terests, and at last unmixed delight was the 
 prevailing feeling. The reason of all this, 
 though I had not before thought of it, is 
 obvious enough. We entered Athens ex¬ 
 pecting to see realised imaginations which 
 the classical writers had excited—but 
 found in all that at first presented itself 
 nothing but mongrel modernism ; but after 
 the first shock was over, and when we 
 
HOTELS. 
 
 115 
 
 began to look a little higher and farther, 
 we seemed to recover by degrees the sacred 
 vestiges of antiquity, and Athens appeared 
 in our eyes no more degraded by its 
 present inhabitants and their poor resi¬ 
 dences, than the proportions of one of its 
 fine columns is, by the moss and lichens 
 which cover it. 
 
 I am ashamed to say that the establish¬ 
 ing ourselves in our inn was so much 
 our first object, that we passed the Tem¬ 
 ple of Theseus with a mere glance of 
 admiration, and made our way up the 
 main street to the Hotel de Munich , and 
 prepared ourselves, by the personal com¬ 
 forts of washing, dressing, and break¬ 
 fasting, for enjoying the mental luxuries 
 of this ancient capital (may I call it ?) of 
 the intellectual world. As in these de¬ 
 generate days, the mere animal gratifica¬ 
 tions have a great effect on our relish for 
 those of a higher order, it may be useful to 
 our successors to state, that the Munich 
 
116 
 
 HOTELS. 
 
 Hotel, to which we had gone at the bid¬ 
 ding of our cicerone, is by no means the 
 best — the Royal Hotel being by all 
 accounts infinitely preferable, cleaner and 
 better conducted. After breakfasting, we 
 followed our guide to explore the anti¬ 
 quarian curiosities of Athens. 
 
 It is now that I feel most sensibly how 
 inadequate I am to the task I have under¬ 
 taken, not only of describing the objects 
 around me, but even of expressing my 
 own feelings. In other parts of our tour, 
 I have had, and shall have, to relate per¬ 
 sonal adventures, and to describe scenes 
 not often visited; but here, in the presence 
 of the awful glories of the most illus¬ 
 trious city (excepting only Jerusalem) on 
 earth, and with the recollection that it has 
 been already described by the highest 
 learning, taste, and genius, my pen almost 
 drops from my hand, and I feel inclined to 
 regret that I have ventured on this task. 
 However humble are the pretensions with 
 

 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I 
 
STOA OF ADRIAN. 
 
 117 
 
 which I have introduced myself to my 
 reader, I now feel that I cannot hope to 
 fulfil even them. Having, however, gone 
 so far, I cannot persuade myself to abandon 
 my undertaking: I shall therefore proceed, 
 intreating my reader’s indulgence for a 
 feeble and desultory narrative. 
 
 The first object of inspection was the 
 Stoa of Adrian, standing in the present 
 market-place, but nearly hidden by sur¬ 
 rounding buildings ; a ruined church con¬ 
 ceals several of the columns, the Corinthian 
 capitals of which appear above the roof; 
 the others are exposed, and each of one 
 block of marble : there are seven of these, 
 with another, which stands out alone, 
 fluted. The pencil of Mr. Newton has given 
 this scene with more truth than even the 
 most practised pen could do, and the figures 
 in the original sketch are lively portraits 
 of the present population of Athens. 
 
 We were next shown a figure, a sort of 
 Merman , of colossal size, but rude work- 
 
118 
 
 TEMPLE OF THESEUS. 
 
 manship, which did not call forth any par¬ 
 ticular admiration; but of this an abun¬ 
 dance was excited, when we returned to, 
 and examined the Temple of Theseus, of 
 the Doric order, and the most perfect 
 temple in Greece. The columns, thirty- 
 four in number, are all standing, and part 
 of the frieze, representing the battle of the 
 Centaurs and Lapithee, still remains. The 
 interior is now a sort of museum, or place 
 of deposit for whatever antiquities may be 
 discovered in digging the foundations of 
 the new houses. 
 
 Of these, vast quantities,—particularly 
 fragments of inscriptions,—have been al¬ 
 ready collected, both here and in the 
 Acropolis; but their full value cannot be 
 yet ascertained, as the greater portion are 
 so mutilated and broken, as to be at 
 present only capable of affording to the 
 mere antiquary the pleasure of arranging 
 and deciphering them. It seemed, indeed, 
 to us, that it would require the whole of 
 
ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 119 
 
 a learned life to enable one to appreciate 
 this class of Athenian curiosities, to which 
 every day is making innumerable addi¬ 
 tions. A Greek gentleman of the name 
 of Pittakys, whom we afterwards met, 
 has lately published in French a kind of 
 Athenian guide booh , called “ L’Ancienne 
 Athenes,” in which he has collected, with 
 —as might be expected in a first attempt— 
 more diligence than discrimination, most 
 of the passages of ancient and modern 
 writers concerning the topography of 
 Athens. It is the first attempt at any¬ 
 thing of this kind, and will, there can be 
 no doubt, be much improved in succeeding 
 editions. The most novel and valuable 
 portion of Mr. Pittakys’ own labour, is, 
 that he has collected a great number of 
 these newly-discovered inscriptions, many 
 of which are curious, and some exceedingly 
 interesting, as I shall have occasion to 
 show by and by # . 
 
 * As these sheets are passing through the press, I am 
 
120 
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 Among tlie novelties were a sarcopha¬ 
 gus, of which one side is finished with 
 flowers of the most delicate sculpture: a 
 figure of an orator, in alto-relievo, want¬ 
 ing the head, hut the attitude and drapery 
 fine; and a pretty monumental group of 
 three figures, in which a lady is repre¬ 
 sented as taking something from the hands 
 of a female slave, while a tottering baby is 
 supporting itself by holding her knees. 
 The group is easy, graceful, and natural, 
 and the inscription is no less so :— 
 
 E vOcice rrjv ayadrjv Kai criotypova ical eKaXvxpav 
 AFKE 2 TPATHN, ardpi 7 ToOeLVorarrjy. 
 
 of which this is, I am aware, a very poor 
 translation: “ Here the earth has covered 
 Archestrate the virtuous and modest, 
 by her husband most beloved and re¬ 
 gretted.” There is no expression in the 
 
 glad to learn that Mr. Pittakys has been appointed 
 Inspector of Antiquities, and is proceeding on his in¬ 
 teresting duties with increased zeal and success. 
 
ANTIQUITIES. 
 
 121 
 
 English language, that I have been able 
 to think of, which adequately represents 
 the Greek word Tro^eivorxTnv. Amidst the 
 thousand fragments here collected, two 
 inscriptions struck us particularly. We 
 had not time in our first visit to decipher 
 more than a few leading words, which ex¬ 
 cited our curiosity ; but, on revisiting the 
 temple with Mr. Pittakys, he gave us a 
 fuller explanation. The one, lately found 
 in the mud of the harbour, is an account 
 of the shipping and stores in the Athenian 
 arsenal at a particular period. The other, 
 found in 1S29, in the church of St. Irene, 
 (supposed to be the Peirsean temple of 
 Vesta,) is still more curious ; and will pro¬ 
 bably, when fully deciphered, afford valu¬ 
 able information. It seems to be an account 
 of the building of the Long Walls, under 
 the superintendence of Themistocles. It is 
 carved on two marble slabs, of which the 
 exterior margins are much defaced, but the 
 middle is tolerably perfect, and enough of 
 
 G 
 
122 
 
 THE PNYX. 
 
 the beginning is legible to explain the 
 general subject. 
 
 EA0#ENTOIAHM£2I 
 
 .T0TA2TEfi2KAIT0rnEIPAIEfi2KAITAMAKPATEIXH 
 
 KATA2KET.... THNA0HNAK2NEI2TONAIIANTAKPONON ... 
 
 K. T. X. 
 
 IT APPEARED TO THE PEOPLE 
 
 .... OF THE CITY ANII OF THE FEIR^EUS AND THE LONG WALLS 
 ERECT.OF THE ATHENIANS TO ALL TIME AND . . . 
 
 Towards the middle of the first column, 
 distinguished by larger letters, the name 
 of Themistocles is conspicuous with that 
 of the Archon of the year. 
 
 0EMI2TOKAEOT2EKKHAflN. . KAIATTOATKOTAPXONT02. 
 
 THEMISTOCLES SUPERINTENDING.AND 
 
 AUTOLYCHUS ARCHON. 
 
 Leaving the Temple of Theseus, we 
 ascended to the Pnyx, a spot that gave 
 us greater pleasure than any other that 
 we had yet seen, not excepting even 
 Delphi. The Bema, or stand of the 
 orator, with the steps leading up to it, 
 and the seats for the audience, still exist, 
 cut in the living rock. It looked like 
 
THE PNYX. 
 
 123 
 
 an empty theatre; the people and the 
 speaker were wanting ; but even they were, 
 to the fancy, supplied, by the recollections 
 of Demosthenes and Aristophanes. From 
 the rostrum where the Philippics were pro¬ 
 nounced I looked down on the scene be¬ 
 fore me, and forgot, even while I saw them, 
 that the plains of Attica were barren, the 
 Ilissus so scanty, as to be even at that 
 season easily stepped across, and the groves 
 of Academus nothing but a few scrubby 
 olive trees. The mind’s eye saw the plain 
 teeming with harvests; the Grove seemed 
 thronged with the shades of the precep¬ 
 tors of mankind; and the Ilissus flowed 
 brimful of immortality. 
 
 It required, however, no mental illusion 
 to admire the marble masses of Parnes and 
 Pentelicus, the flowery hill of Hymettus, 
 the splendid ruins of the Acropolis, and the 
 
 “ Isles that crown the iEgean deep.” 
 
 Nor can I describe the sensation, with which 
 
 g 2 
 
124 
 
 THE MUSEION. 
 
 I saw the deserted and rugged road which 
 leads to Marathon, and thought, that along 
 that very path had run the hero who ex¬ 
 hausted his life-breath in announcing that 
 his country was saved. 
 
 From the Pnyx we dragged ourselves 
 away to the Museion, a rocky height, 
 where Thernistocles had made a public 
 walk, that the people (as some ancient 
 author, I think, informs us) might from it 
 see their fleet, and be always reminded of its 
 importance: it is now trodden by few, and 
 the wild anemone, which strews the path 
 with its gay colours, and would enliven 
 any other spot, is almost offensive here ; 
 it seems the type of fickleness and oblivion. 
 
 Near this are excavations, shown as the 
 tomb and prison of Socrates, A kind of 
 traditionary compliment is frequently paid 
 to illustrious men, by attributing scenes of 
 their history to places in which it is very 
 unlikely they should have occurred; but I 
 hate the disturbing of local traditions, they 
 
PHILOFAPPUS. 
 
 125 
 
 seem to me something monumental, and 
 I would not, if I could, deprive the Athe¬ 
 nians of the only recollection* they seem 
 to have of Socrates. Farther on, in the 
 same direction, is the monument of Philo- 
 pappus, whom Pausanias calls concisely, 
 the Syrian. This Syrian was the son of 
 Epiphanes, and grandson of King Antio- 
 clius; and after having been—through the 
 favour of Trajan—a Roman Consul, re¬ 
 turned to end his days at Athens, where he 
 erected this monument—with a bas-relief, 
 in honour of that emperor—statues of 
 himself, his father, and grandfather, in 
 niches above, and inscriptions (one of 
 which is still visible) descriptive of the 
 purpose of the building. Two of these 
 niches, and their mutilated statues, remain ; 
 the left wing of the edifice, containing the 
 other niche, is destroyed. Judging from 
 
 * M. Pittakys mentions one or two fragments of mar¬ 
 ble, bearing the name of Socrates, but not, I believe, of 
 the celebrated son of Sophroniscus. 
 
126 
 
 PHILOPAPPUS. 
 
 Dr. Clarke’s plate, it seems that the monu¬ 
 ment has suffered considerably since his 
 time ; and he tells us, that between Stuart’s 
 visit and his, it had been greatly impaired. 
 Though a work of Roman times, it is of 
 graceful proportions, and not unworthy its 
 position. 
 
 Though we had not time to see, or, to 
 speak more truly, feelings to appreciate 
 any more this day, we made our guide walk 
 with us to the principal remaining objects 
 of curiosity, that knowing their situations 
 and aspects, we might visit them more at 
 leisure on the morrow. 
 
 Friday , 5th February. Having pro¬ 
 cured orders for admittance to the Acro¬ 
 polis, which are to be had at the office of 
 the Nomarch of the city, to remain in force 
 a certain number of days, for the sum of 
 two drachmae, we started early to ascend 
 this celebrated rock. Our way lay at first 
 through a part of the town we had not 
 yet seen. We are told that modern 
 
AGORA. ODEION. 
 
 127 
 
 Athens has undergone great improvements 
 during the last twelve months. What it 
 must have been before, I can form no con¬ 
 ception ; for even now, except in the three 
 or four chief streets, the passages are mere 
 paths over ruins, not of ancient, but modern 
 date. Athens must have had in the earliest 
 days streets comparatively spacious, since 
 Homer bestows on it the epithet E upvdyuioc 
 *A9*w>, wide-streeted Athens; but it has 
 now no claim to that distinction. 
 
 Passing the gate of the Agora, or new 
 market, formed by four fluted Doric pillars 
 supporting a pediment, near which stands 
 Adrian’s market tariff, as legible, and almost 
 as perfect as the day it was placed there, we 
 commenced our ascent to the Acropolis. As 
 we Avound round this steep acclivity, we - 
 looked down into the Odeion of EXerodes 
 Atticus, Avith part of its Avails standing, and 
 the seats cut out of the rock of the fort itself. 
 
 Having passed three rude military gates, 
 Ave arrived at the Propylsea, the ancient 
 
128 
 
 PROPYLAEA. 
 
 architectural entrance into the upper pre¬ 
 cincts of the Acropolis. This was origi¬ 
 nally a kind of open colonnade, flanked by 
 two wings of square and solid masonry, 
 of unequal sizes. In that on the left 
 hand, as we approach, was the public pic¬ 
 ture gallery ; on the right wing has been 
 superstructed, in the middle ages, a high 
 tower, of which I shall say more presently. 
 Nearly in front of the north wing there 
 stands a lofty pedestal of white marble, evi¬ 
 dently designed for a statue. This, from the 
 inscription, must have been that of Agrippa, 
 who, as well as his fellow-consul Augustus, 
 had equestrian statues erected, or rather 
 transferred to them ; for Pausanias says that 
 these pedestals bore the equestrian statues 
 of the sons of Xenophon, which it seems 
 the servility of the Athenians appropriated 
 to their Roman masters. Re this, how¬ 
 ever, as it may, the only remaining pedestal 
 bears Agrippa’s name, and is therefore 
 called by it. 
 
129 
 
 TEMPLE OF VICTORY. 
 
 The Propylsea itself, in its present state, 
 offers a front of six marble columns of the 
 Doric order, with frieze, entablatures, &c. 
 It is of considerable depth, with a similar 
 portico on the other or inner side, but there 
 is no passage through the outer portico ; 
 its intereolumniations were long ago built 
 up by the Turkish engineers, and the new 
 government has not yet* opened the en¬ 
 trance, nor cleared the interior of the build¬ 
 ing, though no doubt they will soon do so. 
 The development of a work, said to be 
 equal to the Parthenon itself, is anxiously 
 expected. 
 
 The present passage into the Acropolis 
 is to the right of the Propyleea, as you 
 ascend, between the Gothic tower I have 
 just mentioned and a little temple of Victory 
 Jlpteros, or without wings. The history 
 of this little temple is exceedingly inter- 
 
 * A passage, we were told, was opened for King Otho 
 when he visited the Acropolis, but is closed up again. 
 
 G 3 
 
130 
 
 TEMPLE OF VICTORY. 
 
 esting in many points. Pausanias men¬ 
 tions, as at the right of the entrance of the 
 Acropolis, a temple of Victory Apteros, 
 which Wheeler and Spohn also saw, so late 
 as 1681; but it had subsequently totally 
 vanished from the eyes of modern travel¬ 
 lers. Dr. Clarke does not even allude to 
 it, and its disappearance had puzzled the 
 critics. Some suspected the text of Pau¬ 
 sanias, and the testimony of Wheeler— 
 others imagined the site to have been on 
 the left instead of the right; in short, it 
 was gone—and the learned began to won¬ 
 der, that of all the temples of Athens, it 
 should be that of Victory without wings 
 that had most unaccountably flown away ; 
 so complete was its disappearance. 
 
 At length, in some works carried on by 
 the present government, to clear the ap¬ 
 proaches of the Acropolis, and bring them 
 to their proper level, a Turkish battery, 
 which stood in front of the Propyleea and 
 
TEMPLE OF VICTORY. 
 
 131 
 
 guarded the approach, was removed, and 
 in doing so fragments of pillars and other 
 ornamental architecture were discovered in 
 great quantities; and, by-and-by, the floor 
 of an ancient temple, which of course 
 was immediately recognised as that men¬ 
 tioned by Pausanias. The new govern¬ 
 ment has had the spirit and good taste to 
 cause the fragments to be collected and re¬ 
 erected, without deviation from the original 
 foundations ; and little appears to be want¬ 
 ing to its perfect restoration; indeed, it 
 would almost seem, that when the battery 
 was made, the building had been taken 
 down with some kind of care. The temple 
 itself consists, or rather will when rebuilt, 
 consist of two porticoes, each of four fluted 
 Ionic columns, connected by a cella of 
 solid masonry. The dimensions are very 
 small, being not above twenty feet long, 
 and not as much in height; but the pro¬ 
 portions are so pleasing, and its situation 
 on the little prominent knoll, which it al- 
 
132 
 
 M GEUS. 
 
 most covers, so striking, that it is, upon the 
 whole, a very beautiful object, and an 
 admirable introduction to the majesty of 
 the Parthenon. 
 
 As this is an object at once so ancient 
 and so new, I annex Mr. Newton’s draw¬ 
 ing of it, as we saw it in progress of re¬ 
 construction, with the angle of the Pro- 
 pylsea, and the pedestal of Agrippa on the 
 right; the temple of Theseus in the plain 
 below; and in the distance, the hill of 
 Colonos, the last scene of the long (Edipean 
 tragedy; the groves of Academus, sacred 
 to philosophy; and the Pass of Phyle, 
 memorable for the victory of Thrasybulus 
 over the Thirty Tyrants. 
 
 We were much surprised to find this 
 spot assigned by some modern writers 
 (who quote the authority of Pausanias for 
 the fact) as that from which iEgeus pre¬ 
 cipitated himself on seeing the black sail 
 of Theseus. 
 
 “ Le temple (of Victory Apteros, says Pittakys,) fut 
 
iEGEUS. 
 
 133 
 
 crige a la memoire d’Egee. C’est de la, selon Pausa- 
 nias, qu’il se precipita, lorsqu’il appei^ut le vaisseau de 
 Thesee revenant avec des voiles noires — L'Ancienne 
 Athines, p. 240. 
 
 But it does not seem to me that Pau- 
 sanias’ expression warrants this interpre- 
 
 * Colonel Leake, I find, has taken the same view as 
 Pittakys, (who probably copied from him,) and renders 
 the passage thus :—• 
 
 “ From thence there is a prospect of the sea, and 
 there JEgeus threw himself down , and perished.”— To¬ 
 pography of Athens, p. 197. 
 
 It seems to me, however, that ravry means rather 
 * into which,' (the sea,) —than ‘ there (at the Acropolis) 
 andl find that Taylor’s version concurs with my opinion. 
 
 “On the right hand of the Propylsea there is a tem¬ 
 ple of Victory without wings ; from hence there is a 
 prospect of the sea; and they report that Aegeus hurling 
 himself into this sea, perished.”—Taylor’s Paus. v. i. 
 
 p. 61. 
 
 We unfortunately were not provided with Colonel 
 Leake’s Topography of Athens, which is a copious 
 commentary on Pausanias, and by much the ablest and 
 most satisfactory work on ancient topography which I 
 have ever met. On a few points we ventured to differ 
 from him; but some of his conjectures have been 
 singularly illustrated and confirmed by recent dis¬ 
 coveries ; and the whole work is, if I may presume to 
 give an opinion, a model of judicious criticism and to¬ 
 pographical accuracy. We were, however, though we 
 had not his book, much indebted to Colonel Leake, for 
 
134 
 
 iEGEUS. 
 
 tation; what he really says is this :— 
 
 “ Twv Se 7rpo7rv\aiu)p ev £e£ta Nt/c^g eoriy airripov 
 vaog' evrevdev >/ daXacraa kan ovvomroQ, /cat ravrrj 
 pi\pag A’iyeve kavrbv , wg \iyovaiv , ETeXerevcrev” 
 
 Att. 22. 
 
 Which, as I understand it, means, 
 
 “ On the right of the Propylsea is the temple of 
 Victory without wings; thence the sea is visible— 
 into which iEgeus (as they say,) threw himself and 
 perished.” 
 
 This appears more in accordance with the 
 generally received story of iEgeus having 
 thrown himself into the sea which bears 
 his name, as well as with the localities. 
 The spot indeed is little fitted for such 
 a suicide, being the least precipitous of 
 the entire rock; and why should the sea 
 be called the iEgean, only because it was 
 visible (avvonros) from an inland cliff, where 
 iEgeus, if he had thrown himself down, 
 would only have broken his bones ? In 
 short, we resolved to adhere to the old 
 
 I trace in Pittakys’ work several corrections of old errors, 
 and many new lights, which I am satisfied he derived 
 from our learned countryman. 
 
VICTORY APTEROS. 
 
 135 
 
 opinion that JEgeus was drowned in the 
 JEgean. 
 
 It is nowhere, that we could recollect, 
 clearly stated, why this Victory was with¬ 
 out wings. Those who have been (as I 
 venture to think) misled into believing 
 that this was the scene of the suicide of 
 iEgeus, say that the temple was erected in 
 honour of Theseus’ victory over the Mino¬ 
 taur, the fame of which had not flown be¬ 
 fore him. Another and rather more pro¬ 
 bable conjecture is, that it was erected to 
 celebrate the battle of Marathon ; but why 
 that should be described as a victory with¬ 
 out wings is not very clear. It seems a more 
 natural surmise, that it was erected by 
 Pericles to flatter the vanity or encourage 
 the patriotism of the Athenians, by an al¬ 
 legory, which promised that Victory—no 
 longer fickle—would permanently guard 
 the entrance of the Acropolis. 
 
 Pursuing the road which winds round, 
 as I have already said, between the Pro- 
 
136 
 
 TOWER OF ULYSSES. 
 
 pyleea and the temple of Victory—the 
 modern, and at present the only entrance 
 to the Acropolis—we passed, on our left, 
 the lofty tower before mentioned, raised 
 on the south wing of the Propyleea by 
 some of the Latin princes, who—for a 
 long interval subsequent to the Crusades 
 and before the capture by the Turks in 
 1456—ruled this region, under the title 
 of Dukes of Athens. 
 
 This Gothic, and comparatively modern 
 tower, has lately received an ancient and 
 illustrious denomination. It was pointed 
 out to us, as the Tower of (’O^vcraevg) 
 Ulysses —not indeed him of Ithaca, but a 
 modern Greek leader of the late revolution, 
 who assumed this name from having been 
 born in Ithaca, though of Thessalian 
 parents; and who, after a strange variety 
 of exploits, being suspected of practising 
 the wily arts of his namesake and of some 
 treachery to the patriot cause, was confined 
 in this tower, whence he attempted to 
 
MODERN ACROPOLIS. 
 
 13 ? 
 
 escape; but tbe rope by which he was de¬ 
 scending broke, and the unhappy man was 
 dashed to pieces. Such was the public 
 version of the story; but there are not 
 wanting some to believe, or at least to whis¬ 
 per, that he was thrown from tbe summit, 
 as the readiest means of getting rid of a 
 turbulent and troublesome, if not treacher¬ 
 ous, rival *. 
 
 This tower is in the rude style of the 
 fortifications of Western Europe in the 
 middle ages; and judging from all the 
 
 * I find by Mr. Swan's account ( Voyage up the Med. 
 v. ii. p. 84.) that it was the first and general impres¬ 
 sion, that the rope was thrown within his reach, and, 
 when he had committed himself to it, cut by the orders 
 of Gourrah, who commanded in the Acropolis, and who 
 had previously been Ulysses’ lieutenant. Ulysses had 
 married his sister to Mr. Trelawny; and the scenes which 
 occurred at a cavern, in a precipitous cliff 1 of Mount Par¬ 
 nassus, where Ulysses and his friends and followers 
 dwelt, like eagles in an eyrie, are more romantic than 
 any roman.ee I ever read. They are sketched in 
 Howe’s History of the Greek Revolution, p. 251 ; and 
 in Mr. Swan’s Voyage up the Mediterranean, v. ii. 
 p. 172. 
 
138 
 
 MODERN ACROPOLIS. 
 
 views prior to the last year or two, the 
 Franks had surrounded the whole summit 
 of the Acropolis with walls and towers of 
 the same character ; so that, but for the 
 pediments of the Parthenon peering above 
 these works, the Acropolis must have 
 looked like an old European fortress. In 
 the progress of the labours, in which the 
 present government is assiduously em¬ 
 ployed for clearing the Acropolis, all these 
 Frank constructions, as well as those 
 which the Turks superadded, have al¬ 
 ready, with the exception of this tower, 
 disappeared. 
 
 The first persons we met on the Acro¬ 
 polis were parties of Greek labourers ex¬ 
 cavating and removing the rubbish, in order 
 to bring the summit to its original levels. 
 I say levels , for it is clear, both from what 
 we could infer from the present aspect of 
 the ground, as well as from ancient testi¬ 
 mony, that the original surface was very 
 unequal; even contiguous edifices not being 
 
ACROPOLIS. 
 
 139 
 
 on the same level. All the Frank and 
 Turkish ramparts, which formed as it were 
 a parapet to the fortress, having been al¬ 
 ready removed, the ancient temples now 
 stand conspicuous down to their bases 
 from all quarters, (except on the westward, 
 where the Propylsea intercepts the view) 
 and the workmen, employed in the level¬ 
 ling, wheel their barrows to the very edges 
 of the precipice, and empty their contents 
 into the valley below. 
 
 I presume that the manner in which this 
 is done has been duly considered, but it 
 seemed to us that the Theatre of Bacchus, 
 which lies at the south-east foot of the rock, 
 had been already in part overwhelmed 
 by the showers of rubbish, which not only 
 obstruct its remains, but may also bury 
 still deeper fragments which may have 
 fallen from the Acropolis during the alter¬ 
 ations it has suffered from the different con¬ 
 querors. Great care is taken in carefully 
 examining and sifting this rubbish before it 
 
140 
 
 ACROPOLIS. 
 
 is thrown down; and all relics, even tlie 
 most apparently trifling, are removed to, and 
 deposited in, a mosque which the Turks 
 had erected in the interior of the Parthenon, 
 forming a treasure, very different from that 
 which the Opisthodomos of the ancient 
 temple used to contain*. 
 
 * “ In the back of part of the Temple of Minerva 
 was the public treasury, called,- from its situation, 
 'OuMjOobofioe, wherein, besides other public money, 
 1000 talents were laid in store for any urgent occasion; 
 and if any man expended them on a trivial account, he 
 was to be put to death.”— Pott. Grec. Ant. i. p. 31. 
 
 I must here observe, that I think the very name of 
 this opisthodomos —the back house, which is admitted 
 to have been at the western end of the building—is 
 decisive against Colonel Leake’s hypothesis, that Pau- 
 sanias, by the term entrance , meant the west end; and 
 by the term oTncrde, the east end. This is a point of 
 great importance towards the proper understanding of 
 the Elgin marbles : for Pausanias says, that the subject 
 of the sculptures on the pediment over the entrance was 
 the birth of Minerva ; while that of the other pediment, 
 otcujQe , w r as the contest of Minerva and Neptune for 
 Attica. Colonel Leake admits the front was to the 
 east, but he thinks that Pausanias loosely called that 
 tlie entrance which he first met on entering the Acro¬ 
 polis. This mistake modern travellers have fallen into; 
 but how could Pausanias, a scrupulous religionist, mis- 
 
ACROPOLIS. 
 
 141 
 
 So very properly strict and jealous are 
 the guardians of the works, that if a stran¬ 
 ger stoops to pick up a piece of marble, 
 even for cursory examination, he finds all 
 eyes upon him ; and I doubt whether he 
 would be allowed to remove even a pebble 
 from the sacred soil. We certainly had 
 no intention to attempt any such spolia¬ 
 tion^ and on the contrary, felt the greatest 
 pleasure at observing the care with which 
 every fragment is preserved. 
 
 There had been, from the earliest ages, 
 a wall or parapet round the edge of the 
 Acropolis, which continued to be called 
 on the north side, the Pelasgic, and on the 
 south, the Cimonian walls, though repaired, 
 if not rebuilt, by Themistocles, after the 
 Persian invasion; and probably, further 
 improved by Pericles. It is stated by 
 
 take the sacrecl entrance ; and liow can we doubt, as I 
 have said, that he meant by oniorde , the end where the 
 oTTiffdodo/j-og was placed ? 
 
142 
 
 ACROPOLIS. 
 
 Pittakys (p. 254), that the remains of the 
 walls of Themistocles still exist, exhibiting 
 the sculptured fragments, triglyphs, and 
 shafts of columns, which Thucydides re¬ 
 lates, that in his haste to rebuild the wall, 
 Themistocles employed in the work, and 
 which are thought to be fragments of the 
 old Hecatompedon, destroyed by the Per¬ 
 sians. If such fragments still exist, they 
 must be in the exterior face where the 
 wall rises from the rock, and which we 
 could not see, except from below, at too 
 great a distance to distinguish sculpture 
 defaced by ages. It seems unlikely that 
 the Persians should have so totally razed 
 the Hecatompedon, or that Themistocles 
 should have so employed its remains; nor 
 do I think the quotation from Thucydides 
 quite in point; for the passage referred to 
 (lib. i. c. 93) seems to relate to the walls 
 of the lower town ; and although, no doubt, 
 the same kind of proceeding may be m- 
 
ACROPOLIS. 
 
 143 
 
 ferred as to tlie walls of the Acropolis, 
 yet Thucydides does not, I think, in the 
 particular passage relied on by Pittakys, 
 refer to them*. 
 
 This, and many other obscure points, 
 will probably be solved when the work¬ 
 men reach the original levels, which as yet 
 they do not seem to have done. 
 
 These excavations may, it is to be hoped, 
 lay bare the foundations or bases of some 
 of those numerous temples and monuments, 
 and perhaps discover even some of the in- 
 
 * A similar error seems to have been made when the 
 walls of the Acropolis are described (Pitt. p. 252) as 
 ’JLvveairvXog, with nine gates. This surely must apply 
 to the lower walls. I have since found, that Pittakys, 
 in his account of the old wall, has followed Colonel 
 Leake, who mounted the wall with great difficulty, and 
 found the fragments to belong to a work nearly of the 
 dimensions of the Parthenon. I differ from Colonel 
 Leake with great diffidence, but I still think the passage 
 in Thucydides relates to the lower walls. Colonel 
 Leake, in his introduction, argues very powerfully 
 against the idea that the Persians had destroyed any 
 considerable buildings. 
 
144 
 
 ACROPOLIS. 
 
 numerable statues, which we are told ex¬ 
 isted in former times on a spot—peopled, 
 if I may use the expression, with the 
 gods and heroes of Athenian mythology 
 and history.—We read, that after an ex¬ 
 tensive spoliation by Nero, three thou¬ 
 sand statues still remained in the Acro¬ 
 polis. Perhaps the most valuable of all, 
 that of Pericles himself, which we know 
 stood here, may have escaped Nero, and 
 be even yet recovered ; or what, if the 
 Graces, by the hand of Socrates himself, 
 (who was in early life a sculptor,) which 
 stood in the Acropolis, should be found ? 
 This is not much more improbable than 
 some corroborations of ancient narratives 
 and traditions which have already been 
 discovered. For instance :— 
 
 Alexander the Great was said to have 
 erected in the Propyleea a statue to Aris¬ 
 totle. This, considering Aristotle’s un¬ 
 popularity at Athens, seemed not probable ; 
 
STATUE OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 145 
 
 but Mr. Pittakys (p. 247) lias found in 
 the rubbish of the Propylsea a marble frag 
 ment of a pedestal, with this inscription • 
 
 . . . 20$IH2 HFHTHPA.KAE02 
 
 API2T0TEAH.PO2 . . . 
 
 That is 
 
 . . OF WISDOM LEADER . . . GLORY . - 
 TO ARISTOTLE. 
 
 The three last letters of the original in¬ 
 scription,—P02, are probably the termi¬ 
 nation of the name of Alexander. At all 
 events, mutilated as the inscription is, it 
 affords incontrovertible evidence of the 
 accuracy of Pausanias. 
 
 Another similar discovery, not quite so 
 interesting, but important as corroborative 
 of Pausanias, is this : he states (Att. xxii. 8) 
 that ‘ at the entrance of the Acropolis is a 
 statue of Mercury, which they call EPMHS 
 nPOXlYAAiOU — Hermes Propylceus, or 
 Mercury before the gate.' Mr. Pittakys 
 
 H 
 
146 STATUE OF THUCYDIDES. 
 
 (p, 258) found on the very spot designated 
 by Pausanias a fragment inscribed 
 EPMHinponYAAmmnoAis ; * 
 clearly denoting, that it was a dedication by 
 THE CITY, TO HERMES PROPYL^EUS. 
 
 Another is still more interesting. Pau¬ 
 sanias says, that near the Temple of Diana 
 in the Acropolis was a statue of CEnobius, 
 who had moved the decree recalling from 
 exile the historian Thucydides , the son of 
 Olorus. The text of Pausanias is here 
 very obscure; M. Pittakys (272) collects 
 from it, that there was also a statue of 
 Thucydides himself near that of his friend. 
 I see no warrant for this interpretation ; 
 but the main fact is clear—that here stood 
 a statue in some way commemorative of 
 the decree for the recall of Thucydides . 
 
 * To those not in the habit of seeing this kind of in¬ 
 scription, it may be as well to observe, that what we call 
 the iota subscription is always expressed] by an I after 
 the vowel: so that this would be read ' &ppp HponvXaio) 
 f] IloXtc. 
 
THE PARTHENON. 
 
 147 
 
 Now on this same spot has been lately 
 found the fragment of a pedestal inscribed 
 
 0OYKYAIAHS OAOPOY 
 THUCYDIDES, THE SON OF OLORUS. 
 
 This was probably a fragment of the 
 inscription of the statue either of (Eno- 
 bius who obtained the recall of Thucy¬ 
 dides, or of the historian himself. 
 
 These instances, which I hope my 
 readers will agree with me in thinking 
 equally interesting and surprising, must 
 create a very keen anxiety for the con¬ 
 tinuance of the researches of the Greek 
 government. Nothing before discovered 
 can equal these specimens as to individual 
 identity. 
 
 On turning into the Acropolis, the Par¬ 
 thenon rises in all its majesty before us. 
 The finest edifice on the finest site in the 
 world—hallowed by the noblest recollec¬ 
 tions that can stimulate the human heart, 
 left no sense or feeling ungratified. We 
 
 H 2 
 
148 
 
 THE PARTHENON. 
 
 looked at it with mingled delight, wonder, 
 and reverence. But I must not venture 
 to indulge in enthusiasm ; and it would 
 he superfluous to attempt any description 
 of the building itself, which has been so 
 often drawn, painted, and engraved, that 
 nothing remains to be said upon it by so 
 transient and unlearned a visitor as I was # . 
 
 The removal of the modern obstructions 
 has left (as I have already intimated) the 
 prospect from the platform of the Acropo¬ 
 lis, over the beautiful panorama of the sur¬ 
 rounding country, quite uninterrupted ; 
 while on the platform itself, of the crowd 
 of works of various kinds which Pausanias 
 enumerates, nothing now remains within 
 
 * Its length and breadth, the height, size, and re¬ 
 maining number of the columns, and all the details of 
 its architecture from professional admeasurements, have 
 been long before the public in the magnificent works of 
 Stuart and Cockerell, and are now to he found in the 
 common books of reference. Some Russian travellers, 
 however, during our visit, were verifying former ad¬ 
 measurements by their own rules and lines, and com¬ 
 mitting everything to book. 
 
THE PARTHENON. 
 
 149 
 
 the Propylsea but the Parthenon, and the 
 double or triple (as the learned may ulti¬ 
 mately decide) temple, generally called 
 the Erechtheion. 
 
 King Otlio on his visit to the Acropolis 
 pledged himself to do all in his power to 
 restore it to its pristine state; but without 
 funds it will be impossible—and whence 
 are these to come in the present condition 
 of this impoverished country ? Some enthu¬ 
 siasts propose a sort of crusade or general 
 subscription throughout Europe for this 
 purpose, and assuredly no one who ever 
 visited Athens could refuse to subscribe ; 
 but I have no great hopes of the success of 
 this speculation, even if there should be 
 found Philhellenists sanguine enough to 
 attempt it. A great sum might, I think, 
 have been collected in Europe, to free 
 Athens from Turkish barbarism, but now 
 I fear that people will be inclined to think 
 that King Otho’s dominions ought to pro¬ 
 vide for their own objects. 
 
150 
 
 THE PARTHENON. 
 
 It cannot, however, be doubted, that 
 when improved roads, inns, and police 
 shall have facilitated travelling in Greece, 
 the influx of visitors will be found to repay 
 whatever expenses the government may in¬ 
 cur in the restoration of the capital. Col¬ 
 bert is said to have thought that the influx 
 of strangers to Paris would more than com¬ 
 pensate the prodigalities of Louis XIV.’s 
 Carousels. How much more certain would 
 be the advantage derived from such per¬ 
 manent attractions as those of Athens ! 
 
 The restoration of the columns, and 
 what I may call the masonry of the Par¬ 
 thenon, would perhaps not be difficult, as 
 many of the fallen fragments lie as they fell, 
 and others are daily discovered; and men 
 and machinery are all that is required to 
 replace the blocks. But now that the 
 expedient of the Consul Mummius * would 
 
 * Mummius having taken Corinth, (U. C. 608) 
 freighted a ship with pictures and statues by the greatest 
 artists, the fruits of his conquest, of which he was so 
 
ELGIN MARBLES. 
 
 151 
 
 not be tolerated, how are the works of the 
 hand of Phidias to be replaced ? For such 
 a 'purpose, I can have do doubt that the 
 British nation would restore the Elgin 
 Marbles; but imperfect and mutilated as 
 they are, and so small a portion * as, after 
 all, they constitute of the original edifice, 
 they would be far from completing the 
 work ; particularly when we recollect that 
 the temple has been battered in two or 
 three sieges ; and once at the least, exten¬ 
 sively damaged by the explosion of a powder 
 magazine—a use to which the Turks, with 
 
 exquisite a judge, that he warned the masters of the 
 transport ships, “ that if any of the objects should be 
 lost or injured, they should be obliged to replace them 
 with new ones" —si eas perdidissent novas redituros. 
 
 Yell. Pat. I.—13. 
 
 * Of about 650 feet, the length of the original frieze 
 the British Museum has but 250, and the French only 
 one or two pieces of 3 feet long each. Of the 92 Me¬ 
 topes, the Museum has but 14; 32 were gone before 
 Stuart’s visit; but as they were probably displaced by the 
 explosion which overthrew the centre part of the building, 
 some of the fragments may be found in the excavations. 
 
152 
 
 ELGIN MARBLES. 
 
 true Mussulman indifference to the arts— 
 were in the habit of putting the Grecian 
 temples. 
 
 At the same time, the success which has 
 attended the attempt to re-erect the Tem¬ 
 ple of Victory encourages a hope that the 
 Parthenon may be in essentials equally 
 restored; and if that be seriously under¬ 
 taken, all the museums of Europe, which 
 have any scrap of that great work, should 
 now take more pride in giving it back, than 
 could have been felt in the original acqui¬ 
 sition. 
 
 I have not heard whether application 
 has been made to our Government for the 
 frieze of the east portico of the Temple 
 of Victory, the whole of which exists in the 
 British Museum—it having been removed 
 by Lord Elgin from the Turkish wall, into 
 which it had been built, at a time when 
 there existed no expectation that the body 
 of the temple would be recovered from 
 under the battery, and still less that it was 
 
THE PARTHENON. 
 
 153 
 
 likely ever to rise again in anything like 
 its pristine form: that, however, being 
 now accomplished, surely these four pieces, 
 which would perfect one front of the 
 temple, ought to be restored. 
 
 Even in its present state, the Parthenon 
 is, undoubtedly, the most majestic building 
 which I ever saw ; and I hardly know, 
 whether, if it were completely restored, it 
 might produce so profound an impression 
 as it now does. It would become more 
 beautiful certainly, but perhaps less in¬ 
 teresting ; for the successive dilapidations 
 of ages, which its present aspect exhibits, 
 excite a feeling of reverential enthusiasm, 
 which the restored work might fail to 
 produce. 
 
 The only other edifice now existing 
 within the Acropolis, is, as I have just said, 
 the building commonly called the Erech- 
 theion. This has hitherto been generally 
 supposed to include three temples ; that of 
 Erechtheus on the north, of Minerva Polias 
 
 H 3 
 
154 
 
 ERECHTHEION. 
 
 on the east, and of the nymph Pandrosos 
 on the south. But some modern critics 
 seem to believe, that there was no tem¬ 
 ple of Erechtheus, and that those of Mi¬ 
 nerva Polias, and of Pandrosos, were desig¬ 
 nated by the common appellation of Erech- 
 theion; and some later authorities have 
 even considered the Temple of Pandrosos 
 to have been nothing but an interior di¬ 
 vision of the temple Polias, and not, as has 
 been generally supposed, the beautiful 
 Caryatid porch which forms the south 
 portico of the edifice. 
 
 I can hardly venture to form a judg¬ 
 ment on such questions, but a few obser¬ 
 vations suggested themselves to me on 
 hearing this hypothesis. In the first place, 
 an edifice dedicated to Erechtheus must 
 have existed here from the earliest times— 
 many hundred years antecedent to the 
 present building,—for Homer (Odyss. vii. 
 78) represents Minerva as visiting Athens, 
 where she entered ^vxivov Soacov— 
 
PANDROSOS. 
 
 155 
 
 which Pope renders the “ sacred dome' ’— 
 Cowper the “fair abode ”—and Clarke the 
 “ bene munitam domum” of Erechtheus. 
 This certainly proves that in the earlier 
 days the edifice bore the name of Erech¬ 
 theus, and that only. Cowper s expression, 
 “ fair abode,” sounds as if he supposed 
 Erechtheus to have been still an inhabitant 
 householder at Athens, but as that hero 
 flourished some hundreds of years before 
 the Trojan war, he could only be said to 
 have abided there in his temple, as the 
 patron demigod of the city. 
 
 The story of the nymph Pandrosos is 
 one of the earliest apologues against female 
 curiosity; and has, moreover, some analogy 
 to many modern stories, which my respect 
 for the virgin goddess forbids me to do 
 more than to hint at *. Minerva had 
 hidden , it seems, the young Erichthonius 
 
 * “ The legend of the birth of Erichthonius,” says a 
 French writer, ‘ was evidently invented to save the 
 character of Athena.”— Blog . Mythol. 
 
156 
 
 ERECHTHEUS. 
 
 (the same person as Erechtlieus) in a chest 
 or basket, which she gave to the custody of 
 the three daughters of Cecrops, Aglauros, 
 Herse, and Pandrosos, with strict injunc¬ 
 tions not to examine its contents; the two 
 elder sisters disobeyed, and were punished 
 by being stricken with madness, under the 
 influence of which they precipitated them¬ 
 selves from the part of the rock where the 
 Erechtheion stands; and the place of 
 this fall became a consecrated precinct, 
 called, from the name of the elder sister, 
 Aglaureion. The discreet Pandrosos was 
 rewarded by having a temple dedicated 
 to her honour, under the immediate pro¬ 
 tection of the goddess; there was, there¬ 
 fore, an obvious connexion between Mi¬ 
 nerva, Erechtheus, and Pandrosos, which 
 naturally combined their names and their 
 worship in this building, or rather in a 
 building on this site, confessedly the oldest 
 in the city—the very cradle of Athens. 
 Pausanias, whose accuracy seems con- 
 
PANDROSEION. 
 
 157 
 
 firmed by every recent discovery, treats of 
 the three temples as quite distinct in their 
 appropriation, though in situation adjoin¬ 
 ing, and says that sacrifices were made 
 to Erechtheus. I cannot therefore see how 
 we can fairly deprive Erechtheus of his 
 temple on the site of that “ ancient and 
 elegant house ” older by some hundred 
 years than the Trojan war. It seems to 
 me also that we cannot suppose that Pau- 
 sanias would speak of the temple of Pan- 
 drosos as a distinct object, though con¬ 
 tiguous (<wvex^*) to the temple of Minerva 
 Polias, if it had only been an interior con¬ 
 tinuation of the latter, hidden from sight. 
 
 Stuart and Visconti imagined the south 
 porch to be the temple of Pandrosos, and 
 it must be admitted that the Corse or 
 virgin Caryatids would be an appropriate 
 ornament to the temple of the virgin 
 nymph ; and the Caryatids have some re¬ 
 semblance to the Canephorse, or basket- 
 bearers—the representatives or proxies— 
 
158 
 
 SACRED OLIVE. 
 
 of Pandrosos in the mysterious rites of 
 Minerva and Erechtheus ; but as this porch 
 has no external entrance *, and still ex¬ 
 hibits two internal doors, with steps leading 
 to the different parts of the interior build¬ 
 ings, there is something to be said in favour 
 of the more recent opinion, that it was a 
 mere adjunct of communication. But I can 
 hardly believe, according to another hypo¬ 
 thesis, that under it, or indeed any other 
 covered roof, the sacred olive could have 
 grown. I know that the tree was called 
 Pancyphus, because it was crooked, and 
 that this curvature is said to have been 
 produced by its growing to the roof of the 
 building that inclosed it,—the probability 
 of this I must leave to horticulturists to 
 decide,—but that it did not grow in the 
 
 * Athenian enthusiasts will, no doubt, be shocked at 
 my presuming to state that we have a tolerable imita¬ 
 tion of the Pandroseion attached to the church of St. 
 Pancras, in the New Road in London, the situation of 
 which relative to that church is similar to that of the 
 original and the body of the temple of Minerva Polias. 
 
ERECHTHEION. 
 
 159 
 
 part of the temple dedicated to Pandrosos f 
 seems very clear from the way in which 
 Pausanias, first, mentions it as growing 
 in the temple of Minerva Polias, and 
 afterwards, proceeds to describe that of 
 Pandrosos. 
 
 If I might venture to offer a suggestion 
 amidst all these different opinions, it would 
 be that that all the three porticoes with 
 their connecting walls were built round the 
 ancient house of Erechtheus, as has hap¬ 
 pened in other places, such as Bethlehem, 
 Jerusalem, Mecca, where a spot or build¬ 
 ing of peculiar sanctity has been sur¬ 
 rounded with richer edifices ; (which would 
 account also for the irregular form of the 
 Erechtheion;) and that this interior and 
 hidden part, peculiarly dedicated to this 
 mysterious demi-god, may have been hypce- 
 thralov open at the top (as the central part 
 of the Parthenon was), and in that open 
 space the sacred olive might flourish. In 
 this hypothesis the north porch would be 
 
160 
 
 ERECHTHEION. 
 
 the temple of Pandrosos, most appropri¬ 
 ately overlooking the spot where her of¬ 
 fending sisters perished, and the Caryatid 
 porch would then he a communication be¬ 
 tween the part of the ancient house of 
 Erechtheus , where the salt-well existed, 
 and the interior terrace, on which grew 
 the sacred olive. 
 
 It seems to me, that this conjecture 
 is plausible, and it certainly appears to 
 be the most consistent with the locali¬ 
 ties, as we saw them ; but I offer it with 
 great deference, and indeed, should hardly 
 venture to do so at all, but that writers of 
 good authority have each supported a 
 portion of the hypothesis, which I have 
 only combined*. Whatever may have 
 been the precise appropriation of its parts. 
 
 * I find that Colonel Leake takes nearly this view of 
 the question; and he, with great probability, argues 
 that the Caryatid porch was only a stair to facilitate 
 the communication between the temples of Minerva and 
 Pandrosos, which were not on the same level. 
 
NORTH PORTICO. 
 
 161 
 
 the Erechtheion as a whole, is, even in 
 the presence of the Parthenon, beautiful, 
 though it has suffered severely ; and what 
 is most vexatious, the greatest mischief 
 seems to have been done of late. 
 
 Of the six columns of the northern por¬ 
 tico, only three are standing, two having 
 been destroyed with the greater part of the 
 roof, so lately as the siege of 1827. Gour- 
 rah, the Greek commander of the garrison, 
 —who had been a lieutenant of Ulysses, 
 and who was suspected of having had 
 a hand in his murder — had placed 
 his wife and family in this part of the 
 building, and had taken the precaution of 
 heaping earth over the roof to prevent 
 the bombs falling through ; but his care 
 was worse than vain, for one column of 
 the north-east angle having been battered 
 down and the others shaken by the enemy’s 
 fire, all that side of the edifice fell, (the 
 weight of the earth contributing to the 
 
162 
 
 EAST PORTICO. 
 
 disaster) and buried in its ruins the whole 
 unhappy family. Gourrah himself was 
 killed by a rifle ball, and with him expired 
 the resistance of the garrison. 
 
 Of the temple of Minerva Polias, the 
 south wall is gone; but of the portico, 
 only one column is lost, which Lord Elgin 
 conveyed away, as he also did one of the 
 Caryatids of the southern portico, and both 
 are now in the British Museum. His 
 Lordship’s intentions were no doubt praise¬ 
 worthy, and it must be presumed that he 
 only removed what he thought was threat¬ 
 ened with early annihilation by the bar¬ 
 barity of the Turks, who confessed to him 
 that they had pounded innumerable frag¬ 
 ments of the marble of the Parthenon to 
 make lime ; but it is to be regretted that 
 he should have moved the column of the 
 Poliad portico, and above all, the Caryatis ; 
 for this beautiful porch was previously 
 (as I understand) intact, and the removal 
 
CARYATID PORCH. 
 
 163 
 
 of that one has led to the loss of two others, 
 and the general dilapidation of the edifice*. 
 
 There was a fanciful story current 
 amongst the common people on the ab¬ 
 straction of this Caryatis, that when she 
 was carried off by the Barbarians, her 
 five sisters were heard in the night weep¬ 
 ing and bewailing her loss. Some of 
 Lord Elgin’s most strenuous, and most 
 successful apologists f admitted, twenty 
 years ago, that they wished that the Cary¬ 
 atis were even then restored to her discon¬ 
 solate family; and I think I have heard 
 that a copy of the statue was sent out to 
 supply its place. But however this may 
 be, no such substitution has yet taken 
 place ; and whether the first abstraction 
 
 * Colonel Leake says, “ That the siege by the Vene¬ 
 tians, in 1687, was the cause of the dilapidation which 
 the edifices of the Acropolis have since suffered, and in¬ 
 deed has rendered the transportation of the fallen frag¬ 
 ments out of Turkey their best preservative from total 
 demolition:’—Top. of Ath. Intro, xcii. 
 t See Quarterly Review, vol. xiv. p. 527. 
 
164 
 
 RESTITUTION. 
 
 was justifiable or not, I am sure no doubt 
 can exist, that if the Greek government 
 should proceed in its present undertaking 
 of restoring tlie Acropolis, the Elgin 
 Caryatis should not only be returned, but 
 that the loss of the two others (if otherwise 
 irretrievable) should be compensated by 
 two copies made at the expense of us Eng¬ 
 lish, whose original abduction was pro¬ 
 bably the cause of the destruction of the 
 others. 
 
 Ancient history affords at least two 
 honourable examples of such a restitution. 
 Antiochus sent back to Athens, as Pausa- 
 nias tells us, the statues of PXarmodius and 
 Aristogeiton, which Xerxes had carried 
 off from the spoils of the city: and the 
 Romans, by a decree of the Senate, re¬ 
 stored to the Ambracians objects of art 
 plundered by the Consul Fulvius from 
 their temples— 
 
 “ The Ambracians complained of many grievances, 
 but above all, that the temples of the whole city had been 
 
MUSEION. 
 
 165 
 
 despoiled of their ornaments—the images of the gods— 
 nay, the gods themselves overturned from their seats, &c. 
 A decree of the Senate was passed, that all their property 
 should be restored to the Ambracians.”— Livy , b. xxxviii. 
 c. 43, 44. 
 
 We spent many hours, and could with 
 pleasure have spent as many days, amidst 
 these delightful objects ; but alas, we found 
 that the flattering oracle which had been 
 pronounced to us at Delphi was not 4 a 
 true one,’ and that old Kronos , instead of 
 being dead and buried, was in full flight. 
 
 We w r ere therefore obliged to drag our¬ 
 selves away from this enchantment. When 
 the works, now so judiciously undertaken, 
 shall be completed, a single week at 
 Athens will amply repay the whole trouble 
 of the voyage, which is, however, really 
 now very little. We might, if we had pro¬ 
 ceeded from Patras in the first instance, 
 have visited Delphi and Corinth, and been 
 in Athens within three weeks after our 
 departure from Falmouth. 
 
 From the Acropolis, we again visited 
 
166 
 
 THEATRE OF BACCHUS. 
 
 the Museion, which affords a prospect of 
 the surrounding objects of which we 
 never could be weary. It was from this 
 height that the Turks bombarded the 
 fortress in the last siege. Indeed, it must 
 have been from this range of hills, which 
 extends from the Museion on the south, 
 to the Areiopagus on the west, that the 
 main attacks on the Acropolis have been, 
 in all ages, directed; for it fronts the 
 only side on which the rock can be as¬ 
 cended. 
 
 We walked across the valley called of 
 old Limnce , or the Marshes, to the The¬ 
 atre of Bacchus , which lies—almost ob¬ 
 literated—under the south-eastern angle 
 of the Acropolis. We could not help 
 regretting that there should be so little 
 distinguishable of the scene on which 
 the tragedies of iEschylus, Sophocles, 
 and Euripides, were originally performed ; 
 and where the Athenians were in the 
 habit of conferring their highest public 
 
ORATORS. 
 
 167 
 
 honours on their generals and patriots. 
 Demosthenes was, at least thrice, honoured 
 by the vote of his countrymen with a 
 golden crown, presented to him in this 
 theatre, when the performance of new 
 tragedies had collected the fullest assem¬ 
 blies. Even the actors here seem to have 
 been considerable political persons. Three 
 of them, Aristodemus, Neoptolemus, and 
 Aeschines, are recorded as being succes¬ 
 sively the most powerful advocates of 
 Philip, and the most formidable opponents 
 of Demosthenes. Probably their habits of 
 declamation before great audiences gave 
 them facilities in addressing the assemblies 
 of the people. Whatever was the cause, 
 certain it is, that in the highest times of 
 Grecian eloquence, these actors were lead¬ 
 ing orators and statesmen. Demosthenes, 
 indeed, makes it a topic of personal re¬ 
 proach against iEschines, that he had been 
 a player; and in the oration on the Peace , 
 we find an indignant and sarcastic allusion 
 
168 
 
 CAVE OF BACCHUS. 
 
 to the Theatre of Bacchus , and the poli¬ 
 tical tragedian Neoptolemus: 
 
 Et yap Iv A lovvaov rpayiofiovg edeacrde — k. t. X. 
 
 “ If you had been spectators of a tragedy in the 
 Theatre of Bacchus, instead of being assembled to dis¬ 
 cuss the interests and safety of the State, you could not 
 have heard him with more favour, nor me with less.” 
 
 Above the theatre, on the slope of the 
 rock, stand two choragic pillars of un¬ 
 equal heights, over a cave in the side of 
 the fortress, which also bears the name 
 of Bacchus, but is supposed to be the 
 sepulchral crypt of one of the first settlers 
 in Athens. 
 
 Thence we proceeded eastward to the 
 Gate of Adrian , the inscriptions on which, 
 though perfectly legible, have given much 
 trouble to the learned world, and afford 
 a remarkable instance how the misunder¬ 
 standing of a single letter may occasion 
 the most contradictory interpretations of 
 a whole sentence. The inscription on 
 the side next the Acropolis, is 
 
GATE OF ADRIAN. 
 
 169 
 
 AIAEISA0HNAI0HSEO2HnPINnOAI2 
 
 THIS IS ATHENS, THE ANCIENT CITY OF THESEUS. 
 
 On the opposite side, towards the Olym- 
 peion. Stadium, &c., 
 
 AIAEI2AAPIAN0YKAI0YXI0H2E&2II0AI2. 
 
 THIS IS THE CITY OF ADRIAN, NOT OF THESEUS. 
 
 This seems clear enough, but the inscrip¬ 
 tions having no division of their letters, 
 the first six in each— aiaeis, — may be 
 either read ai A’ EIS\ this is ; or A’ IAEIS, 
 or what you see is. The latter certainly 
 seems the more natural reading; but, un¬ 
 fortunately, one who reads the inscription 
 must turn bis back on the place to which 
 it was clearly meant to refer; so that when 
 he reads, “ what you see is Athens , the 
 ancient city of Theseus ,” he would have 
 before his eyes the works of Adrian ; and 
 when he reads, “ what you see is the city 
 of Adrian—not of Theseus he would look 
 towards the Acropolis. This ambiguity 
 
 I 
 
170 
 
 OLYM PE ION. 
 
 induced some learned writers, who looked 
 rather to the words than to facts, to trans¬ 
 pose the two cities, and to waste a deal of 
 learning in endeavouring to reconcile these 
 new positions with the ancient authorities. 
 Whatever may he the precise construction 
 of AIAEI2, it is as clear as the sun, that 
 the names of Theseus and Adrian were 
 respectively on that side of the gate which 
 fronted their respective cities. 
 
 This arch is close to the Olympeion, or 
 Temple of Jupiter Olympius, which having 
 been begun by Pisistratus, was not finished 
 for 600 years, when Adrian is said to 
 have completed it, while building to the 
 east of the old town, and near the Ilys- 
 sus, his new Athens, of which there 
 are few remains, save these stupendous 
 ruins. The columns are the most lofty in 
 Athens, or I suppose in the world, as 
 parts of an edifice,—being 60 feet in 
 height;—but of these, on the immense 
 platform of the temple, a few only remain— 
 
OLYMPEION. 
 
 171 
 
 sufficient, indeed, to give an ample idea of 
 its immense original size and beauty, and 
 exciting the deeper regret at its demolition, 
 or I should almost say, its disappearance; 
 for here there is no superincumbent soil, 
 above the platform of the temple, to admit 
 hopes of the future discovery of the vast 
 proportion of this enormous edifice, which 
 has vanished. 
 
 It appears that there were originally no 
 less than 120 of these gigantic columns, 
 of which 16 now only remain : what can 
 have become of the rest ? though not 
 monoliths , still the stones which composed 
 them are of such magnitude, that it is 
 wonderful how they could have disap¬ 
 peared. I sometimes have almost ven¬ 
 tured to doubt whether it could be true that 
 Adrian had actually completed this pro¬ 
 digious work, and whether flatterers may 
 not have represented as executed , that 
 which was only ordered . Such things 
 
 i 2 
 
172 
 
 CALLIRRHOE. 
 
 have happened in our own times with re¬ 
 gard to a modern emperor. 
 
 Between the Olympeion and the Ilyssus 
 is the fountain Callirrhoe , the water of 
 which was formerly distributed through 
 nine channels, or pipes (’E wsotxpovvos) : there 
 is now hardly an appearance of water, and 
 the Ilyssus itself has a gravelly bed, almost 
 as dry as ours in the boat. I could not help 
 thinking of Addison’s lines, which apply 
 much more strongly here, than even to the 
 places which prompted them: 
 
 “ Sometimes, misguided by the tuneful throng, 
 
 I look for streams immortalised in song. 
 
 That lost in silence and oblivion lie ; 
 
 Dumb are their fountains, and their channels dry; 
 Yet run for ever by the Muse’s skill, 
 
 And in the smooth description murmur still.” 
 
 We walked along the “ fields ” which 
 “ cool Ilyssus ” does not “ lave,” till the 
 piers of a ruined bridge, which had once 
 crossed it, attracted our attention. It had 
 been a single arch, in span about 70 feet, 
 
STADIUM. 
 
 173 
 
 showing that the stream, though now 
 easily stepped over, must have been at one 
 time much more considerable, unless the 
 size of the bridge was calculated with re- 
 gard, not so much to the volume of water it 
 was to cross, as to the dignity of its situa¬ 
 tion ; for it is exactly in front of, and must 
 have been the chief avenue from the city 
 to the Stadium , one of the most magni¬ 
 ficent in the ancient world. 
 
 The arena was in length about 800 feet, 
 and in width 140 at the lower end, and 
 180 at the upper; just enough to allow 
 the chariots a sweep to turn. It was re¬ 
 built and adorned by Herodes Atticus with 
 such splendour that the seats were covered 
 with Pentelic marble ; hut now all that 
 remains is a large grassy hollow preserv¬ 
 ing the original shape, with the subter¬ 
 ranean passages, for the introduction, I 
 suppose, of the wild beasts, with which the 
 Romans disgraced their popular entertain¬ 
 ments. 
 
174 
 
 CHORAGIC MONUMENT. 
 
 Returning towards the town, we passed 
 over the intended site of the new palace, 
 which is to he on a gentle eminence to 
 the north-east of the present town, of 
 which the first stone is to be laid to¬ 
 morrow. The ceremony is to be a grand 
 one, and we have, through the kindness 
 of captain Sir Edmund Lyons, our minister 
 at the court, received tickets for it, as well 
 as invitations for the royal ball which is to 
 be given in the evening. 
 
 On our way home, (I am sorry to pros¬ 
 titute the word home to the Munich 
 hotel,) we visited what is commonly called 
 the Lantern of Demosthenes, but pro¬ 
 perly the Choragic monument of Lysi- 
 crates, a small but elegant little structure, 
 till lately more than half hidden within 
 the walls of a convent, but now again re¬ 
 vealed—though not to full admiration— 
 by the destruction of the modern build¬ 
 ings. The level of the ground is, in this 
 part, a few feet above its original surface. 
 
ATHENS. 
 
 175 
 
 thereby still detracting something from the 
 beauty of tbe building *. 
 
 I regret to state that tbe beautiful bas- 
 reliefs which ran round the frieze of this 
 building, and of which casts, fortunately 
 taken by Lord Elgin, are preserved in the 
 British Museum, have been within a very 
 few years wantonly destroyed ; and I am 
 still more sorry to say, that this inconceiv¬ 
 able mischief is attributed to the attempts 
 of certain English visitors to detach some 
 of the more prominent figures. The object 
 seems so impracticable, as w T ell as so dis¬ 
 graceful, that I would willingly believe 
 that the accusation is unfounded; but the 
 fact is but too certain — this beautiful 
 monument has been barbarously defaced. 
 
 The removal of the aggregation of rub¬ 
 bish from over the original soil of the lower 
 town will, no doubt, reveal immense trea¬ 
 sures of antiquity, in addition to those 
 
 * The cupola of St. Philip’s church in Regent Street 
 is an imitation of this monument. 
 
176 
 
 ATHENS. 
 
 which have been already collected in the 
 temple of Theseus and in the Acropolis. 
 
 From the tranquil excitement of these 
 noble objects we returned reluctantly to 
 the noise and confusion of our Bavarian 
 table-d’hote. 
 
ITT 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ATHENS.—NEW PALACE.—AREIOPAGUS.—BALL. 
 
 [6tH FEBRUARY.] 
 
 Long before daybreak we were roused 
 from our slumbers, which, from the exercise 
 of the day, were generally tolerably sound, 
 by bands of music parading the streets, 
 and peals of artillery. At nine o’clock 
 the king passed along the street in front 
 of our hotel, which was lined with troops, 
 on his way to the church, where service 
 was to be performed preparatorily to the 
 great ceremony of laying the foundation 
 of the new palace. 
 
 This the tickets had announced would 
 commence at ten o clock, A.M., and accord¬ 
 ingly by that hour we presented ourselves 
 
 13 
 
178 
 
 NEW PALACE. 
 
 on the platform raised for the more fa¬ 
 voured spectators, and were immediately 
 admitted within a place railed off from the 
 rest of the scaffolding. The kingly per¬ 
 sonages of Greece and Bavaria were punc¬ 
 tual, and their coming was announced by 
 fresh thunders of artillery, while a squad¬ 
 ron of lancers galloped down to clear the 
 ground. First in the procession came the 
 venerable bishop of Attica, in full canoni¬ 
 cals, of which, however, the mitre formed 
 no part, attended by a numerous body of 
 clergy, and they were followed by the 
 king’s personal attendants and aides-de- 
 camp, among whom were many of the 
 heroes of modern Greece. The two kings 
 next advanced, and were received with 
 cheering, of which the hurras of the Eng¬ 
 lish spectators formed by far the loudest 
 and most energetic part. They returned 
 the greeting with bows, and the cere¬ 
 mony commenced with the chanting of a 
 hymn by the priests in a low monotonous 
 
NEW PALACE. 
 
 179 
 
 tone : a chapter of the New Testament was 
 then read, and followed by other devotional 
 exercises ; during the whole of which the 
 assembly stood uncovered; and as it was 
 under a burning sun, we were not sorry 
 when the service was over, and the king 
 of Greece made a signal for us to resume 
 our hats. Now there was a—no doubt 
 simulated—discussion between the Royal 
 and other principal personages, as to who 
 should lay the stone : at last the Greek mo¬ 
 narch led his father forward with a little 
 gentle violence, and putting the trowel in 
 his hand, proclaimed him to be the founder 
 of the palace ; an honour justly due to him, 
 not merely on the score of seniority,—if it 
 be true, as we were informed, that he had 
 given his son 100,000 florins towards its 
 construction. Various speeches having 
 been made by the Greek officials—to us, I 
 am sorry to confess, unintelligible—the 
 kings retired amidst fresh volleys, and the 
 ceremony was over. 
 
180 
 
 TEMPLE OF THE WINDS. 
 
 On their retiring, the Greek mob rushed 
 in an enthusiastic manner to view the spot 
 where the stone was placed, but were rudely 
 repulsed by the swords of the military, and 
 we heard them muttering, as they retreated, 
 Bxpfiapoi, taking care to mark the r, which 
 in their pronunciation is only wanted to 
 make the Bavarians , barbarians. This 
 struck us as a relic of the haughty spirit 
 of their ancestors, and as no good omen 
 for the Barbarian dynasty. 
 
 After the show, we resumed, and com¬ 
 pleted our inspection of antiquities. First 
 was the Temple of the Winds, or Tower 
 of Andronicus, the only remarkable edifice 
 we had not yet seen: on the frieze are 
 figures representing eight winds, per¬ 
 fect except the faces, which the Turks 
 invariably mutilated from religious feel¬ 
 ings. The building itself also is in ex¬ 
 cellent preservation, with the dial marks 
 distinctly visible on its four southern sides. 
 In the interior was a water-clock to show 
 
CLEPSYDRA. 
 
 181 
 
 the hour when the sun did not shine 
 upon the dials. It was fed by a stream 
 of water brought by subterranean chan¬ 
 nels, from a spring on the north side of 
 the works, somewhere near the Temple 
 of Pan. This was called Clepsydra, or the 
 hidden water; and thence all water-clocks 
 have their names, even when not supplied 
 by a secret stream *. From this we again 
 went to the Temple of Theseus, accom¬ 
 panied by Mr. Pittakys, the Greek author, 
 to whoe j work on the antiquities of Athens 
 I have so frequently referred. He was 
 very obliging and communicative, which 
 made us regret that we had not met him 
 earlier. Among other matters, he gave us 
 an account of the opening of a sarcopha¬ 
 gus, which he had lately superintended, 
 when the two kings were present: the only 
 thing, however, which presented itself on 
 
 * I find this has been doubted, and that Clepsydra is 
 supposed to be a more ancient term than the water- 
 clock of Andronicus ; but may there not have been an 
 earlier one in this place ? 
 
182 
 
 AREIOPAGUS. 
 
 removing the lid (some expecting treasure* 
 or at least valuable ornaments), was a 
 mouldering female figure, which crumbled 
 into dust on exposure to the air. In this 
 gentleman’s instructive company we also 
 visited the celebrated Areiopagus or Hill of 
 Mars: the steep steps still exist by which 
 the judges and accused ascended, and 
 which must have been very difficult for old 
 men even in the day-time, and much more 
 so at night, when they were in the habit of 
 trying important causes. It seems no great 
 proof of Athenian justice and honour, that 
 they should be reduced to such a clumsy 
 expedient as obscurity to prevent parti¬ 
 ality *. 
 
 * Here also is a slope down which the Greek dames 
 in the family-way slide on their backs, for the purpose of 
 insuring, as the doctors call it, a good time. I could 
 not learn whether this was an ancient as well as a 
 modern superstition. In an English criminal court, 
 the ladies would hear the auspicious words, “ God send 
 you a good deliverance ,” but I know not that any similar 
 omen could have been extracted from the forms of the 
 Areiopagus. 
 
ST. PAUL. 
 
 183 
 
 And here, with a higher interest than 
 any of our classical visits had excited, we 
 recollected that this was the Hill of Mars, 
 whence the great Christian orator and 
 apostle of the Gentiles had addressed an 
 Athenian auditory, and seizing with ad¬ 
 mirable readiness the neighbourhood of 
 these magnificent temples of idolatry and 
 of the altar 
 
 “ TO THE UNKNOWN GOD,” 
 he “ declared unto them him whom they ig¬ 
 norantly worshipped,-the Lord of Heaven 
 and Harth, who dwelleth not in temples 
 made by hands , and whose Godhead was 
 not like gold , or silver, or stone graven by 
 art or mans device (Acts xvii. 22, See.) 
 To feel the full force and beauty of these 
 allusions we must recollect that, below, 
 around, and above the spot whence the 
 apostle spoke, there stood innumerable 
 idols, and above all, the celebrated Minerva 
 of Phidias—on which the highest tf arts and 
 devices of man,” and the most costly mate- 
 
184 
 
 BALL. 
 
 rials had been lavishly expended. As a 
 mere specimen of appropriate oratory it is 
 not surpassed by the celebrated appeal of 
 Demosthenes to “ n QowvXaZ* rocvra .—o TLxp- 
 S'evo^v— aroaii —N swooikoi '—“ those Propylcea — 
 Parthenon — Porticoes—and Harbours” 
 pronounced from the neighbouring but 
 lower eminence of the Pnyx. 
 
 We now by the last rays of the sun 
 took a general parting view and farewell 
 of these interesting scenes, for on the mor¬ 
 row we were to leave Athens : the day 
 was to be devoted to the harbours, and in 
 the evening we were to sail for Epidaurus, 
 whence we intended to commence our cir¬ 
 cuit of the Morea. 
 
 At nine in the evening the gaieties of the 
 palace commenced. The principal room 
 was an octagon of 60 feet in diameter, with 
 draperies of crimson and w 7 hite drawn to a 
 centre at the top, something like a tent. 
 The room w r as crowded; uniforms of all 
 nations in abundance, but none so splendid 
 
EALL. 
 
 185 
 
 as those of the Colonels of the Grecian 
 Phalanx. I do not know whether this 
 body exists in fact, or only in name. We 
 certainly had not the good fortune to see 
 more of it than the ball-room dress. 
 The troops that we did see were in the 
 light blue Bavarian uniform, and appeared 
 to consist of Greeks and Bavarians inter¬ 
 mixed, and were by no means distin¬ 
 guished either for appearance, discipline, 
 or stature. Ladies—Greeks as well as of 
 Western complexions—were not rare, but 
 beauty, alas ! in vain did we look for the 
 boasted charms of Greece, and we began 
 to think that they existed but in the ima¬ 
 ginations of poets and painters. The belles 
 of the room were Germans, daughters of 
 Count Armansperg, the prime minister; a 
 daughter of Prince Soutzo was also pretty; 
 as was a Smyrniote Greek lady, wife of 
 the chief Bassos : but to them was limited, 
 according to our tastes, the beauty of a 
 room, in which there must have been 
 nearly a hundred of the fair sex. Mr. 
 
186 
 
 COLOCOTRONI. 
 
 Hill —an American missionary long settled 
 in Athens—and who. in addition to the 
 public good which he does by the instruc¬ 
 tion of the natives, is exceedingly kind and 
 hospitable to strangers—was our guide 
 through this brilliant maze. He introduced 
 us to several distinguished personages, and 
 amongst others, to the celebrated Coloco- 
 troni, who, from being a mountain robber, 
 became a patriot, and was now a courtier. 
 
 It must not be supposed that the term 
 Klefts — robbers —which we find applied, 
 in various publications relative to the 
 Greek Revolution, to some of the principal 
 leaders, are exactly what in Western 
 Europe we denominate robbers. They 
 were, under the Turkish Government, 
 rather of the style of Fergus M‘Ivor in 
 TVaverley; and from levying a kind of 
 Black-mail on their neighbourhood, pro¬ 
 ceeded to actual rebellion, against what 
 they considered an intrusive government. 
 Such practices were, indeed, in Greece, 
 of the highest antiquity. The new king- 
 
KLEFTS. 
 
 187 
 
 dom has been mainly established by the 
 same class of persons, who, as Thucydides 
 tells us, “ were not ashamed, but on the 
 contrary, derived glory from such exploits, 
 which are even to this day thought honour¬ 
 able to those oh KOGfAOs y.aCKws tovto dpgiv —” 
 which Smith, in the style of Captain Mac- 
 heath, translates, “provided it be genteelly 
 'performed 
 
 The old fox, though he is said to be in 
 the pay of Russia, affects to be favourable 
 to the English interests; he made us se¬ 
 veral complimentary speeches, which my 
 introducer translated, saying that Eng¬ 
 land had given life and energy to the 
 Greeks, and that she was the pillar on 
 which all their hopes of liberty were based. 
 I, of course, returned his civility, by as 
 pretty a speech as I could make, on Greek 
 valour and his own generalship, and draw¬ 
 ing away my hand, (which he had held 
 and squeezed during the dialogue,) I re¬ 
 treated with his blessing, and a wish 
 
183 
 
 COLOCOTRONT. 
 
 expressed for my health and happiness. 
 His countenance exhibits talent ; and 
 you cannot pass without noticing his aqui- 
 
 line physiognomy, eagle eye, beaked nose, 
 and inquiring who he is. 
 
 To the King of Bavaria we were also 
 introduced. He seems an affable, good- 
 
KING OF BAVARIA. 
 
 189 
 
 tempered old gentleman, and speaks Eng¬ 
 lish very fluently. He asked various ques¬ 
 tions in the usual abrupt style of royal 
 condescension, and then moved on to the 
 next in the circle. Mavromichalis—the 
 ex-Hospodar of Wallachia—and a host ot 
 worthies whose fame has hardly reached 
 our shores, were also present, and pointed 
 out to us, by our obliging conductor, as 
 objects of curiosity. Not having been 
 presented at a levee, we were precluded by 
 etiquette from a personal communication 
 with King Otho. He is what the ladies 
 call 'plain —about twenty-two years of age, 
 but his appearance does not indicate more 
 than eighteen or nineteen. He- seemed 
 very fond of dancing, and during the whole 
 evening, whether waltz, quadrille, or co¬ 
 tillon was the figure of the moment, he 
 was prominent and active in it. Shortly 
 after one he retired—the ball broke up, 
 and all returned to their dwellings. 
 
 We have been hitherto singularly fortu- 
 
190 
 
 MAID OF ATHENS. 
 
 nate in our weather, and in arriving at our 
 various halting-places at moments of festi¬ 
 vity, by which we have been enabled to see 
 more of the inhabitants than we otherwise 
 could have done in so short a visit. 
 
 We had a curiosity to see the Maid of 
 Athens , celebrated by Lord Byron ; but 
 some portion of the romance which his 
 poetry had thrown around her was dis¬ 
 solved, by hearing that she had become the 
 wife of one of the municipal officers, and 
 now bears the unpoetical name of Mrs. 
 Black. She was not, I presume, of rank to 
 be at the royal ball, and we had during our 
 stay no opportunity of seeing her—fortu¬ 
 nately perhaps—for we were informed, as 
 we might indeed have guessed, that the 
 sight of her who had been a beauty twenty 
 years before, would have totally destroyed 
 a charm, which the change of name had 
 already impaired. 
 
191 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ATHENS—POPULATION.—SCHOOLS.—MODERN LANGUAGE 
 AND COSTUME. 
 
 [6TH OF FEBRUARY.] 
 
 Yesterday was completed a census of 
 the population. The number of inhabitants, 
 including soldiery, Greek and Bavarian, 
 is fifteen thousand —a great increase we 
 are told, within the last twelve months, but 
 a terrible falling off from the days when 
 Athens was in her splendor. 
 
 It would be too much to venture on an 
 anticipation of what it may again rise to, but 
 there are several indications which appear 
 to promise, not indeed her ancient glories, 
 but at least a revival of civilization, which 
 cannot fail to draw to a region so rich in 
 
192 
 
 SCHOOL. 
 
 objects of art and in mental associations 
 a high degree of internal improvement 
 and prosperity. Athens is not now, for 
 practical purposes, so distant from Lon¬ 
 don—“ toto divisos orbe Britan nos,” — as 
 Rome was thirty years ago; and who can 
 tell to what a state of prosperity habitual 
 intercourse with the civilized world may 
 again exalt the narrow but illustrious ter¬ 
 ritory of Attica ? 
 
 Already has the school, established by 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hill, operated most benefi¬ 
 cially on the people : though the school- 
 house has only been lately built, the school 
 itself has existed upwards of five years, and 
 it is attended by several hundreds of both 
 sexes and various ages. In addition to this, 
 they have in their own house girls from 
 each of the provinces of the kingdom, whom 
 they are bringing up, with the sanction of 
 the government, to be teachers in their 
 native districts. This is, perhaps, the germ 
 of a literary, moral, and religious reform. 
 
POLICE. 
 
 193 
 
 which may restore the Greeks to some¬ 
 what of their ancient fame, and to more 
 than their ancient civilization. 
 
 The king, to shew his sense of the good 
 which Mrs. Hill has done in improving the 
 moral condition of the Greeks, and his ap¬ 
 probation of her conduct, has presented 
 her with a gold medal, accompanied with a 
 letter of thanks. 
 
 A little incident occurred, however, to¬ 
 day, which shews that the government 
 itself is not quite as active as it ought to 
 be in the work of civilization. Mr. Hill, 
 whose kindness is unwearied, was so oblis*- 
 
 n 
 
 ing as to conduct us to the office of the 
 JVomarch of the city, to procure our pass¬ 
 ports and the other proper papers for pro¬ 
 ceeding on our journey. That officer hap¬ 
 pened not to be at home; and while we 
 were waiting his return, Mr. Hill asked 
 some labourers, who were loitering about 
 the place, what they wanted : they said that 
 they had been there since the previous 
 
194 
 
 POLICE. 
 
 evening , waiting also for an order to re¬ 
 move the corpse of one of their companions, 
 who had died the day before, while work¬ 
 ing on the roads, and whose body had been 
 ever since lying by the road-side between 
 the Peireeus and the city. We thought, 
 on hearing this account, that if the police 
 laws are so strict that the body might not 
 be moved without an order, it would be but 
 right for the officer, who was to give such 
 an order, to be more particular in his at¬ 
 tendance on his duties; for a little atten¬ 
 tion to such points as these is even more 
 urgent than the restoration of the Par¬ 
 thenon. 
 
 As we were walking through the streets 
 with Mr. Hill, we were glad to see that 
 the common people all recognized him 
 with respect and regard, as if they were 
 sensible of the good he was doing them. 
 Most of them addressed him with “ ^s- 
 zvyjxpiar g,” may you be fortunate , or some 
 similar term, to wdiich he always replied 
 
SALUTATION. 
 
 195 
 
 by a different form of words; and be ex¬ 
 plained to us, that in answer to the salu¬ 
 tation by which the people might greet us 
 on our journey, as (*aV yixspoc, good day> 
 and so forth), it would not be polite to 
 return the same words, but to use some 
 other expression than that used to us: 
 we therefore provided ourselves, under his 
 tuition, with an intelligible pronunciation 
 of a few phrases, with which we were 
 enabled to respond to the civilities of those 
 who accosted us. And here I may make 
 a few remarks on the pronunciation of 
 modern Greek, to explain the difficulties 
 we experienced in our attempts to speak, 
 or even to understand the language. 
 
 The first observation I have to make 
 is, as I am informed by better lin¬ 
 guists than myself, that the modern lan¬ 
 guage is not essentially different from the 
 ancient:—of course, many modern words, 
 as must happen to every living language, 
 have been added, but the majority of the 
 
 k 2 
 
196 
 
 LANGUAGE. 
 
 radical words, and the inflections and 
 grammatical construction are nearly the 
 same. Xenophon would, no doubt, be 
 puzzled by an Athenian Gazette ; but the 
 readers of the Athenian Gazette find no 
 difficulty, I suppose, in reading Xenophon. 
 There is certainly as little difference be¬ 
 tween old and modern Greek as between 
 old and modern English,—and much less, 
 I believe, than between the Latin and 
 Italian. In short, the ancient character 
 and language may be said to be in com¬ 
 mon use, as will be evident on a small 
 scale, from the accompanying copy of the 
 pass which I received to visit the Parthenon. 
 It was a square bit of yellow paper, with 
 a copper-plate engraving of a view of 
 Athens from the banks of the Ilyssus, be¬ 
 yond the Temple of Jupiter Olympius, and 
 a printed form, in Greek and French, in 
 which the names and dates are filled up 
 by a pen. 
 
ATHENS, 
 
 l ( J7 
 
 f 
 
 
 
 EI20A0S EIS THN AKPOIIOAIN. 
 
 AP. 311. 
 
 AIA 3 HMEPA2. 
 
 AIA TON KTPION Tvi<p*p*. 
 
 TH 24 lav, 1836. 
 
 O E$0P02 TON APXAIOTHTON. 
 
 
 
 
 f 
 
 ENTREE A L’ACROPOLE. 
 
 
 f 
 
 A 
 
 No. 311. 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 * 
 
 POUR 3 JOURS. 
 
 
 I 
 
 f 
 
 POUR M. GIFFARD 
 
 
 f 
 
 
 Le 24 Janv. 
 
 1836. 
 
 
 4 
 
 Le Conservateur dcs Antiquites. 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 —«£S* 
 
 I add the two first paragraphs of the 
 proclamation of the Greek government, 
 announcing the death of Lord Byron, with 
 a literal translation ; 
 
198 ANCIENT AND MODERN GREEK. 
 
 Ai orMpoverMi %up[Aoffvvot * b- 
 [as put syivMV 'biu bXovs bfAMs 
 'AfAS^Mt WSV0OVS. 
 
 'O Ao£b NasX Bvguv MTsguers 
 ffnfAS^ov uer Tnv mXXyiv Z,unv } Ts^i 
 tms svbixu cogas Tnv iffTi^Mv 
 (astm [aimv MtrhvUMV <pXoyiffTixov 
 pSVfAMTIXOV OTVgSTOV 10 bfASQUV, 
 so. r. X. 
 
 The present rejoicing days 
 have become to all of us days 
 of grief. 
 
 The Lord Noel Byron de¬ 
 parted to-day into another 
 life, about the eleventh hour 
 of the evening, from a disease 
 of inflammatory rheumatic 
 fever of 10 days, &c. 
 
 I also subjoin the Lord’s Prayer in 
 ancient and modern Greek, in which the 
 similarity of the languages will be very 
 apparent: 
 
 GREEK. 
 
 Ildrig b[Auv o iv ro7$ ovgMvo7s- 
 *A yicttibrcj to ovofAtx erov’ ’E?*.- 
 6'stu b (bMffiXstu erov. Tsvndnru 
 TO 6iXn[AM ffov , US SV OVgUVU, 
 
 xu) 1st) Tbs ybs- Tov mqtov 
 bfAuv tov imovffiov lbs b[A7vff b[AS- 
 gov. Ka! cityis bfAiv tu o(ps/Xn~ 
 
 [AMTM b[AUV, US Xm) b[Al7s M^iS[ASV 
 
 to7s otpaXiTccis b/xuv. Ka ) /An 
 siffsviyxvps b/Aas us tfsiQUfffAbv, 
 mXXm pvffMt b(xus usrb tov srovn- 
 gov. ’A/tnv. 
 
 MODERN GREEK, 
 n mtI^m [ams, borov Ciffou us 
 
 TOV OVQMVOV. *'As nVMl MyiMfffASVOV 
 
 to ovofAu. erov. "As sXdn b (bouri- 
 Xuea ffov • ”A? ysvy to 6sXn[AU 
 
 ffov , xmOus us tov ovgavbv, ovtu 
 Xm) us T'/IV ybv. A 'os [AMS ffbfAi- 
 gov to oovayKcubv [ams ^u/ai. 
 Ka) ffuy%cdO'/,erz [aias too rffTMiff- 
 [AMTM (Acts , XOC0US ffVy^U^OVfAiV 
 
 xm) bfAUs ixuvovs oorov /ams 
 TTM lOVffl. K ex) [An (AMS ty'spys 
 sis SffSlgMfffAOV, OiXX’ IXiV&iQUffi 
 [AMS OOTO TO XMXOV. ’A[A)JV. 
 
 * Sic in all the copies I have seen. 
 
PRONUNCIATION. 
 
 199 
 
 These examples will show the essential 
 similarity between the ancient and modern 
 dialects. 
 
 But as to the pronunciation, the case 
 is much more questionable. There is 
 certainly a prim a facie probability that 
 the traditional pronunciation would follow 
 the traditional language, and it may he 
 so; but the present pronunciation over¬ 
 throws all our ideas of the sound of the 
 ancient tongue : I do not say ours, as Eng¬ 
 lish alone, but (though in a less degree 
 perhaps) of other European nations. 
 
 For instance, the very word Alphabet , 
 which all the nations of the world have 
 derived from the Greek, is in modern 
 Greek a misnomer, for there is no letter 
 of the sound which w T e call B in their 
 language. The Beta is called Veta, and 
 so pronounced. Thus, Bion and Brasidas 
 are called Vion and Vrasethas ; while our 
 sound B is strangely misrepresented by 
 a combination of the letters ixtt, so that 
 when they have to write the name of that 
 
200 
 
 ANCIENT AND MODERN 
 
 modern luxury tobacco (so much used 
 amongst them), it can only be done by 
 Ta.^<nccY.Y.w, Tampacco; and Byron, if they 
 wished to represent the sound , they would 
 be obliged to render Mt wpm, Mpyron*. 
 They generally, indeed, as in the procla¬ 
 mation, adhere to our mode of writing, 
 B vpuv, and they then pronounce it Veerone; 
 nor have they a letter to express our sound 
 of D, the A (delta') being Thelta , and 
 invariably pronounced like th in them; 
 while 0 (theta) has the force of th in 
 theme. Our D is represented by T, but 
 only when it follows an N, and this hap¬ 
 pens even when the N and T are in different 
 words, as tov t/jowov is pronounced ton dropon. 
 
 * The use of Mn for the European B, and NT for 
 D, is at least as early as the Byzantine Empire. When 
 Mr. Gibbon finds the Princess Anna Comnena writing 
 the name of the celebrated Robert Guiscard— Popreprog, 
 he at first calls it a “ Greek corruption of the name’’ 
 (Decl. and Fall, x. 270, ed. 1802); but when he subse¬ 
 quently found Cantacuzene calling a Duke di Bruns¬ 
 wick Avkoq vtl M.7rpovv£oviK, he observes that “ the 
 modern Greeks employ the vt for D, and the prr for the 
 B.”—(Ib. xi. 371.) 
 
PRONUNCIATION. 
 
 201 
 
 The loss of our letters B and D, and 
 the confusion between B and V, as 
 B aoikzvs, Bcisileus, is pronounced Vasilefs ; 
 and between A and 0, would alone be 
 enough to embarrass any European : and 
 it is almost as bad, if not worse, with 
 some of the vowels. A, indeed, has its 
 general European pronunciation, as a in 
 father, and O and 12 are both pronounced 
 as our long o in bone ; but I, H, and T, 
 are all confounded into the single sound of 
 the English ee, as in meet , or of i in 
 the French or Italian; and oz, si, and V i, 
 the most frequent diphthongs in the lan¬ 
 guage, are confounded in the same sound 
 of ee. The absorption of no less than six 
 characters or combinations of characters, 
 into one sound, can hardly be consistent 
 with the distinctive euphony of the ancient 
 language *. Some other diphthongs are 
 
 * I do not forget that English confounds occasionally 
 the e, the i, the y, and the ea, ee, ei, ey, and ie, in the 
 sound ee, as in figure, female, gypsey, eat, free, either, 
 
 K 3 
 
202 
 
 PRONUNCIATION. 
 
 equally unintelligible to our ears; as xv 
 is pronounced as av, or af; ev, ev, or ef; 
 wv, eve, or eef. 
 
 The prosody also has suffered great varia¬ 
 tions, not only in proper names, as Egina for 
 Egina, but in ordinary words, as ocv^poTTof, 
 anthropos, for anthropos; ^eyx\n, megale, 
 for megale ; and xe<px\w, kephale, for kephale. 
 I need hardly say, that until a foreigner 
 has, by much practice and care, got rid of 
 all his own habits of pronunciation, a lan¬ 
 guage so changed in its vowels, conso¬ 
 nants, and quantity, must be quite unintel¬ 
 ligible to him, if in the habit of reading 
 only, either modern or ancient Greek. 
 
 I am not about to venture on a discussion, 
 which was left in a very dubious state by the 
 learned on the revival of Greek literature 
 in Western Europe, but I cannot but ob¬ 
 serve, that it is hard to believe that the 
 
 frieze, &c.; but they have sometimes their proper sounds, 
 and are not always so confounded, which they invari¬ 
 ably are in Greek. 
 
IDIOMATIC FORMS. 
 
 203 
 
 present pronunciation can be the same as 
 the ancient; for besides the penury of 
 sounds with which it narrows the language, 
 we have at least one instance in which 
 ancient authority seems to contradict the 
 modern practice ; for an Aristophanic frag¬ 
 ment talks of the c B n, irpo^xrcov ’ 
 
 ba , ba , the bleating of sheep ; and we can 
 witness that the modern sheep of Greece 
 pronounce the B with as much distinctness 
 as those on Salisbury Plain. Nor can I give 
 much credence to a system which reduces 
 the 9 To\vtp\oia£oio of Homer—a sound which 
 w r e heard the sea itself articulating on the 
 shores of Pyles, into p oily flee sveeo. 
 
 The most remarkable grammatical va¬ 
 riation which struck us was one which I 
 had thought essentially English — the 
 formation of the future tense by the auxili¬ 
 aries have and will: instead—for instance, 
 instead of the pluperfect Eysypa^siv, the 
 modern Greek says and writes, in the 
 common English idiom , si%oc ypz^Ei —I had 
 
204 
 
 MODERN GREEK. 
 
 written; and instead of the old future 
 ypoc-^/w, lie says ypoi-^ei ; literally, I 
 
 will write ; so that between the §s\co Xsysiv, 
 the poetic inspiration of Anacreon, and a 
 simple expression of futurity, the modern 
 Greek makes no distinction. 
 
 The aristocratic forms of France and 
 England have long since banished the 
 thee and thou from ordinary conversation. 
 The Italians carry courtesy farther, and 
 their respectful mode is to address one in 
 the third person ; but the Greeks go still 
 farther, for they evade the personal pro¬ 
 noun, and will say, as more polite and re¬ 
 spectful, rov \oyov f/.ov, rov Xoyov gov, rov Xoyov 
 Hoes —literally, the word of me —the word 
 of thee —the word of us, for I — you — we. 
 
 These few observations, which will strike 
 every one, who attempts to apply his old 
 Greek to modern use, are not merely the 
 result of my own imperfect experience, 
 but are corroborated and developed (with 
 other necessary information) in a modern 
 
NATIONAL COSTUME. 
 
 205 
 
 Greek Grammar, written in French, by 
 Julius David, formerly a professor of Greek 
 at Scio, and translated and adapted to Eng¬ 
 lish use, by the Rev. George Winnock, of 
 Magdalen Hall, Oxford, chaplain of the 
 forces in the Ionian Islands *. 
 
 In illustration of the spirit of the rising 
 generation, Mr. Hill told us an anecdote 
 of one of the younger boys at his school— 
 the son of the chief Bassos, and I suppose 
 of the lady whom we admired at the ball. 
 The boy, on returning home one afternoon, 
 saw his father in the Frank costume, 
 and would not speak to him until he had 
 put it off; saying, it was not his father, if 
 he wore that dress:—this from an urchin 
 not more than six years old, who struts 
 about in a Palikari dress, armed to the teeth, 
 with pistols and ataghan suited to his size 
 
 * This volume, which an Englishman, intending to 
 visit Greece, will find of great use, I procured at Corfu, 
 where it was printed; but the title-page tell us that it is 
 to be had at Parker's, Oxford ; Deighton's, Cambridge; 
 and Rivington’s, &c. in London. 
 
206 
 
 NATIONAL COSTUME. 
 
 —does not afford much probability of the 
 old dress being discontinued if the boys 
 all have this feeling. Indeed the daily 
 papers state that the Bavarian King of 
 Greece is about to adopt the national cos¬ 
 tume, in his visit to Europe in search of a 
 wife; and if the dress be equally comfort¬ 
 able, he will be quite right; for—with its 
 embroidered vest, tight jacket and greaves, 
 and loose snowy camese, similar to the 
 Highland kilt—it is much handsomer than 
 our Western habiliments cut and carved 
 with such assiduous care to impede our 
 activity and disguise our shape. 
 
 His Majesty, however, will not be able 
 to show quite so small a waist as some of 
 his subjects ; who, from early habit, have 
 reduced this part of the figure so much as, 
 in some dandies, to render it almost capable 
 of being spanned. In their scarlet jackets, 
 they look like wasps. 
 
207 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PEIRiEUS.—TOMB OF THEMISTOCLES.—EGINA.— 
 EPIDAURUS. 
 
 [7TH FEBRUARY.] 
 
 Having reckoned with our host of the 
 Munich Hotel, Avhose bill, notwithstanding 
 the inferiority of our accommodation, was 
 so exorbitant as to justify the proverbial 
 prejudice against modern Greeks — we 
 now, more prudent than on our arrival, 
 sent for horses to convey us to the Peireeus. 
 But what animals to dignify with the name 
 of horses! the driver of a costermonger’s 
 cart in England would have been ashamed 
 (the only shame, perhaps, of which such 
 folks are capable,) of sitting behind one of 
 them; and they looked as if they could no 
 
208 
 
 PEIRiEUS. 
 
 more reach the Peirseus than the top of 
 Parnassus. Not having thought it ne¬ 
 cessary to provide ourselves with whips 
 or spurs for so short a ride, we kicked and 
 thumped their sides; hut a slow walk was 
 the utmost speed we could produce; and 
 as far as regards bodily fatigue , we had 
 infinitely better have walked on foot, and 
 carried our luggage into the bargain. We 
 were, however, overtaken by a party of 
 English midshipmen returning from last 
 night’s ball, similarly mounted but differ¬ 
 ently armed, for they were provided with 
 heavy English hunting-whips, with which 
 — Ajaces flagelliferi — they astonished 
 the unfortunate hacks for the first time in 
 their lives into a gallop. Ours, instigated 
 by so novel an example, or fearing the same 
 discipline, followed them at the same rate, 
 and finished their five miles in less time 
 than, I suppose, it has been performed since 
 the Olympic iEra—twenty minutes at the 
 outside. We felt that we were on the spot 
 
PEIR.EUS. 
 
 209 
 
 where the trident of Neptune had given 
 life to the horse. 
 
 We arrived in time to attend divine 
 service on hoard H.M.S. Portland; after 
 which, having visited the Medea, a magni¬ 
 ficent steam frigate, we started with Cap¬ 
 tain Austin of the latter ship, who was so 
 good as to be our guide—and an excellent 
 guide he was—to the Munychia and Pha- 
 leron, which, with the Peirseus, formed the 
 ancient triple seaport of Athens. 
 
 The heights above Peireeus bear traces 
 of strong fortifications, the rock in some 
 places having been hewn into walls; in 
 others, the foundations of masonry still ex¬ 
 isted ; but the days are gone by when the 
 safety of Athens depended on her wooden 
 walls, I fancy she had better, for the 
 present at least, rely on ours. By-and- 
 by it may be different; and the Western 
 nations, who are now so anxious to create 
 kingdoms in the Levant, may find their 
 policy more generous than prudent. 
 
210 
 
 GREEK PILOT, 
 
 We met the Greek pilot of the Portland, 
 with a young and pretty wife, whom he 
 had just married : he made inquiries of the 
 Captain, whether the two men-of-war were 
 really to sail on the morrow. On being 
 assured that they were, the old man, for 
 such he comparatively was, turned to his 
 young bride, and gave her such a languish¬ 
 ing disconsolate look, that we could scarce 
 refrain from a smile, especially as the lady 
 seemed by no means to participate in 
 his sorrow. It did not seem to us that 
 she was likely to call her absent spouse 
 TroSsivorarov. 
 
 Having been joined by Captain Price of 
 the Portland, we embarked in his boat, 
 and rowed across to the entrance of the 
 harbour, where we saw a pier had been 
 carried out under water to narrow the en¬ 
 trance ; the same had been done on the 
 other side. 
 
 On one of these piers, raised at the 
 extremity above the water,, formerly stood 
 
LIONS OF ST. MARK. 
 
 211 
 
 the celebrated lion, which gave the harbour 
 its name of Porto Leone (though some¬ 
 times Porto Drako). This and another 
 from the neighbourhood, now adorn the 
 gate of the Arsenal at Venice. The lions 
 were removed, after the capture of Athens 
 by the Venetians under Morosini, and 
 were by no means the most severe loss 
 which the antiquities of Athens sustained 
 from that attack; for a shell, during the 
 bombardment, fell upon the Parthenon, in 
 which the Turks had formed a powder 
 magazine, and by its explosion gave the 
 first destructive blow to that edifice, and 
 became the chief cause of its ultimate di¬ 
 lapidation ; for the Turks, unable to make 
 the building of further use, could think of 
 nothing better than converting the marble 
 into mortar; in which process they found 
 that the statues and ornaments, by the 
 superior purity of the material, were the 
 most available, and in consequence gave 
 them an unlucky preference. 
 
212 
 
 TOMB OF MIAULIS. 
 
 Walking along the eastern shore of 
 the Peireeus, we observed the founda¬ 
 tions of walls, with square equidistant 
 towers, extending to the extreme point 
 of land. Near this is the tomb of the 
 Greek admiral Miaulis, buried here at his 
 own request last summer, the obsequies 
 having been performed with great pomp. 
 The grave is even at this early date 
 scarcely discernible, but we were informed 
 that a monument was to be erected to his 
 memory. Near the same spot, in a tomb 
 similar to those we see in an English 
 churchyard, lies the body of the chaplain of 
 one of our ships, who died on this station. 
 His remains are now, we understand, to 
 be moved to a Protestant cemetery, which 
 has been consecrated in the city. I men¬ 
 tion this, that the grave of our poor chap¬ 
 lain may not be hereafter confounded with 
 that of Miaulis, or some even more cele¬ 
 brated Greek—for tombs, like pedestals, 
 are sometimes very loosely appropriated in 
 
TOMB OF THEMISTOCLES. 
 
 213 
 
 these parts: of this, we had a vexatious 
 instance at hand. 
 
 We were now in the immediate neigh¬ 
 bourhood of the Tomb of Themistocles, 
 the victor of Salamis — the restorer of 
 Athens ; and we acknowledged that the 
 situation was most appropriate for the tomb 
 of the hero. From it were visible, on one 
 hand, the lofty monuments of his civic and 
 military glory; on the other, the scene 
 of his great naval triumph ; and every sailor 
 passing in or out of the main harbour of 
 his country might show with exultation to 
 the stranger or the traveller the tomb of 
 the saviour of Greece. 
 
 That, which was pointed out to us as 
 this tomb, is a sarcophagus, or rather so7'os , 
 hollowed out of the rock, so low and close 
 to the water, that the waves occasionally 
 roll into it; and close by, and apparently 
 belonging to it, lay the broken fragments 
 of a large, and what must have been a 
 lofty column. 
 
214 TOMB OF THEMISTOCLES : 
 
 This site is not inconsistent with the 
 most ancient record which we possess on 
 the subject—the verses of the poet Plato— 
 preserved by Plutarch ; and “ which have,” 
 says Cumberland, “a turn of elegant and 
 pathetic simplicity that deserve a better 
 translation than I can give.” 
 
 “ By the sea’s margin on the watery strand 
 Thy monument, Themistocles, shall stand ; 
 
 By this directed, to thy native shore 
 
 The merchant shall convey his freighted store ; 
 
 And when our fleets are summon’d to the fight, 
 Athens shall conquer with thy tomb in sight.” 
 
 But a doubt unfortunately arises, whether 
 this soros on the water’s edge can be the 
 tomb of Themistocles. In the first place, 
 it seems unlikely that his kindred should 
 have placed his bones, where they ran the 
 risk of being washed out by a gale of 
 wind. To this objection the massive weight 
 of the superstructure may be an answer; 
 but in the next place, it seems uncer¬ 
 tain that his remains were ever brought to 
 Athens at all. Thucydides, writing about 
 
DOUBTS OF ITS AUTHENTICITY. 215 
 
 fifty years after the death of Themistocles, 
 states that 
 
 “ His monument existed in the forum of the city of 
 Magnesia, where he died ; and that if, as was reported, 
 his bones had been removed and buried somewhere in 
 Attica, it must have been done clandestinely, and with¬ 
 out the knowledge of the Athenians.”— Thuc. i. 137. 
 
 Any monument, therefore, subsequently 
 erected to him, would probably have been 
 rather a cenotaph , than a sarcophagus. 
 The verses too of Plato, it must be ob¬ 
 served, are not an epitaph actually en¬ 
 graved on a tomb, but a prophetic sugges¬ 
 tion of what and where the future tomb 
 should be. 
 
 There is also a passage in Demosthenes, 
 which seems to imply that there was no 
 monument to Themistocles; the words, 
 indeed, only relate to a brazen statue, but 
 the argument seems equally to apply to 
 any kind of monument. 
 
 ’E kelvol [7Tj0oyovot] Qepi^oKXea t'ov rr\v iv 'SaXa/uvi 
 pavpa^jap ^parrjyapTa. — k. t. (jcepi 
 
216 
 
 TOMB OF THEMISTOCLES : 
 
 “ Your ancestors, and it is to their example that 
 you should look, neither erected brazen statues nor 
 paid extraordinary honours to Themistocles, who com¬ 
 manded in the sea fight at Salamis, nor to Miltiades , 
 icho led them at Marathon. No one in speaking of 
 them, calls Salamis the battle of Themistocles, but of 
 the Athenians; nor Marathon the victory of Miltiades, 
 but of the Athenians." 
 
 It may be said that this applies only to 
 public honours — whereas Themistocles’ 
 tomb Avas the work of his family; yet still, 
 if the people had sanctioned its erection, it 
 would seem inconsistent with the argu¬ 
 ment of Demosthenes; and again, in the 
 same oration, in the admired passage be¬ 
 fore referred to (p. 184), he says, that 
 though their ancestors left them “ the Pro - 
 pylcea , the Parthenon , the Arsenals, &c., 
 yet, so little personal honour was paid to 
 individuals, however illustrious, that if 
 any one so much as knew which was the 
 residence of Themistocles, or Cimon. or 
 Aristides, or Miltiades, he would see that 
 it was not distinguishable from its neigh¬ 
 bours.” 
 
TESTIMONY OF PLUTARCH. 217 
 
 It seems difficult to imagine how all this 
 could have been said, if, in the sight of the 
 auditory, and in front of the very arsenals 
 to which the orator alluded, there had 
 stood a lofty pillar to the glory of Tlie- 
 mistocles, inscribed with such encomiastic 
 verses as those of Plato. 
 
 But, on the other hand, Plutarch, who 
 preserves Plato’s verses, relates further, 
 on the authority of Diodorus the Geogra¬ 
 pher, (though with some apparent doubt 
 on his own part) that 
 
 “ Within one of the points of the harbour of the Pei- 
 rseus, where the water is almost smooth, there is a founda¬ 
 tion or base, of large dimensions (sfyte yifas), on which 
 stands an altar-like monument, the tomb of Themisto- 
 cles.”— Them, sub fine. 
 
 Pausanias also says— 
 
 Near the greatest of the three creeks of the Peirseus 
 is situated the sepulchre of Tliemistocles ; for it is said 
 that the Athenians repented of their conduct towards 
 him ; and that his kindred brought his bones from Mag¬ 
 nesia to this place, and his children were allowed to place 
 in the Parthenon a picture in which he was represented.” 
 
 (Att. 1. 2.) 
 
 L 
 
218 
 
 byron’s opinion. 
 
 The evidence of the accurate Pausanias, 
 corroborated by Diodorus, seems to over¬ 
 power the inference from Demosthenes, 
 and leaves little doubt that the Athenians 
 did repent of their injustice; and that 
 hereabouts there was a monument to The- 
 mistocles; but was it this sarcophagus on 
 the water’s edge ? Diodorus’ statement 
 relative to the great size of the base, and 
 his allusion to the smoothness of the water, 
 are rather in favour of this supposition ; 
 but Lord Byron, whose acquaintance w 7 ith 
 the Athenian localities was very accurate, 
 seems—in the rather tame imitation of 
 Plato’s lines, with which the Giaour opens 
 —to say that the tomb was higher upon 
 the promontory, and not on the water’s 
 edge:— 
 
 “ No breath of air to break the wave, 
 
 That rolls below the Athenian’s grave ; 
 That tomb, which gleaming o'er the cliff. 
 First greets the homeward-veering skiff, 
 
PITTAKY S* OPINION. 
 
 219 
 
 High o'er the land he saved in vain ; 
 
 When shall such hero live again ?” 
 
 Pittakys jumbles together all the state¬ 
 ments, and consequently all the difficul¬ 
 ties. 
 
 “ On the promontory of the Peiraic Peninsula is seen 
 a monument in form of an altar; this was the tomb of 
 Themistocles. In the same place, we find two tombs 
 hollowed in the rock, on the level of the waters which 
 bathe them ; one of these contains a sarcophagus ; there 
 is a large sub-basement to prevent the waters entering 
 these tombs, when the south wind blows:—near these 
 tombs are large fragments of a column of Peiraic stone. 
 I believe, that after the battle of Salamis the Athenians 
 erected on this spot a trophy in commemoration of the 
 victory, because it is opposite the scene of the fight, and 
 that the children of Themistocles chose it as the deposi¬ 
 tory of their fathers bones.”— Pitt. p. 6. 
 
 From the first part of this passage, it 
 seems that Pittakys does not think the 
 sarcophagus was the actual tomb of The¬ 
 mistocles, though the latter part seems to 
 imply that it was. 
 
 These doubts did not strike us on the 
 spot, and indeed were first suggested by 
 
 l 2 
 
220 
 
 THE PORTLAND. 
 
 comparing Lord Byron’s lines with the ori¬ 
 ginal of Plato in Plutarch. Some future 
 traveller, or perhaps Mr. Pittakys himself, 
 will make a more diligent examination of 
 the spot, and ascertain whether there he, 
 higher on the promontory, (no part of 
 which, however, is high) any remains of 
 the altar-like tomb of Themistocles. 
 
 Returning from our walk, we went on 
 board the Portland, where her captain had 
 invited us to dine, which we accepted with 
 additional pleasure, as we were to leave 
 the harbour that evening for Egina, in a 
 boat which we had directed our servants 
 to hire and bring alongside the frigate. 
 
 Had it not been for the quarantine, to 
 which we should have been subject on our 
 return, Constantinople would have been 
 easily reached, even in our limited period 
 for travelling, so as to allow of our re¬ 
 turning by the same packet in which we 
 eventually came home. A steamer was 
 lying in the harbour to proceed two days 
 
CONSTANTINOPLE. 
 
 221 
 
 after to Smyrna and Constantinople, stay¬ 
 ing a day at the former, and one or two at 
 the latter place, and returning again to 
 Athens. The whole trip would not have 
 occupied more than the ten days which we 
 wasted afterwards in quarantine at Zante; 
 and that quarantine is now removed, we 
 having been the last sufferers. This was 
 the greatest mortification we received in 
 our whole tour; for, to have taken Smyrna 
 and Constantinople in the range of our short 
 excursion would have been really valu¬ 
 able : but there was no help for it; Minos 
 and Rhadamantlius were less inexorable 
 than the quarantine laws of the Levant. 
 
 About seven in the evening we left our 
 hospitable entertainer, and the ship, on 
 board which we felt that we had passed 
 a few hours in England , and again in¬ 
 trusted ourselves to the same boat which 
 had brought us from Kallimachi. Our 
 engagement with the 'padrone was, that 
 he should land us near the Temple of 
 
222 
 
 EGINA. 
 
 Jupiter Panhellenius, in Egina, and then 
 proceed to Epidaurus, for the sum of ten 
 dollars, we having paid eight from Kalli - 
 machi to Athens. 
 
 Our padrone was to have landed us at 
 the foot of the hill on which stands the 
 temple ; hut fearing, as the sky was threat¬ 
 ening, that it might come on to blow, he 
 ran at daylight into a small bay, about 
 four miles from the ruins. We were 
 ignorant of their exact locality with refer¬ 
 ence to our place of debarkation, and not 
 a little disappointed on mounting the first 
 intervening hill, at finding that they were 
 still at a considerable distance, especially 
 as we foresaw an approaching storm. 
 However, we pushed forward, but had 
 hardly time to take a hasty view of the 
 temple when it began to rain in torrents. 
 We endeavoured to shelter ourselves be¬ 
 hind the columns, while we admired 
 through the showers this magnificent 
 edifice. 
 
TEMPLE OF JUPITER. 
 
 223 
 
 Having remained some time in this posi¬ 
 tion, in hopes of a change of weather— 
 but to no purpose—we at last took refuge 
 in a small chapel dedicated to St. Demetri, 
 (the patron saint of our servant—a circum¬ 
 stance to which he alluded with a kind of 
 exultation) which stood at the foot of the 
 hill, and from that, the rain still continuing, 
 we were driven back to our vessel. 
 
 The remains of the temple are tolerably 
 perfect. The columns exposed to the 
 south-east are much corroded by the wea¬ 
 ther; but on the opposite side are but 
 little damaged. The temple is what I 
 believe is technically called liexastyle and 
 peripteral, that is, it has six columns at 
 each end, with a colonnade along the sides; 
 of which, with the cella or interior, enough 
 remains to give a good idea of what it once 
 was. The sculptured marbles which were 
 on the pediment have been long since re¬ 
 moved to Munich, the King of Bavaria 
 having purchased them soon after their 
 
224 
 
 EGINA MARBLES. 
 
 discovery, for nearly 6000/. The trustees 
 of the British museum had offered a much 
 larger sum, but by the mismanagement of 
 their agent were too late. 
 
 In our walk of several miles to and 
 from the temple, we passed, at the most, 
 but half a dozen houses, and about the 
 same number of human beings; the arable 
 soil, however, appeared well cultivated, 
 and the mountain sides were covered with 
 immense flocks of goats. We tried to get 
 some milk for our breakfast from one 
 herdsman, but after milking above forty of 
 his flock, and scarcely getting forty drops 
 of liquid, he gave it up in despair; but 
 even of this small quantity we were de¬ 
 prived by our servant falling and breaking 
 the bottle. The peasant attributed the 
 scarcity of milk to the pasture having been 
 completely burnt up by the heat of the 
 preceding summer, and the herbage not 
 having yet sufficiently recovered itself. 
 By this, it appears that they suffered as 
 
EPIDAURUS. 
 
 225 
 
 much in Egina from excessive drought 
 as we did in England during the last 
 summer. 
 
 On re-embarking, our first difficulty was 
 how to change our wet clothes in the cabin 
 of the boat, in which we could not even 
 sit upright: this feat, however, we accom¬ 
 plished, and felt again comfortable in our 
 dry garments. During breakfast the rain 
 ceased, and on looking out from our gravel 
 couch, we had a passing view of the town of 
 Egina, with one solitary pillar standing 
 near the shore. Passing many isles and 
 islets, and experiencing several delays 
 from the lulling of the wind, we arrived 
 at sunset at Epidaurus, now Pidayra. 
 
 The bay is pretty, but the town, which 
 sent 800 men to Platsea, and I know not 
 how many ships to Salamis, can now barely 
 muster 80 inhabitants, and eight small 
 boats : the houses, such as they are, stand 
 on the right shore of the bay, as you enter 
 it, and not on the site of the old town, 
 
 l 3 
 
226 
 
 EPIDAURUS. 
 
 which, judging from traces of building, 
 and the superiority of situation, must have 
 been on a rocky eminence running out 
 into the bay, and connected with the land 
 by a narrow swampy isthmus. 
 
 At the foot of this height five mutilated 
 statues of white marble have been lately dug 
 up, three female figures of colossal size, one 
 of which is recumbent, and exhibits toler¬ 
 able execution; the others had, in our 
 judgment, no peculiar excellence. 
 
 At the little port we observed the in¬ 
 habitants embarking for the supply of the 
 Athenian market vegetables that are raised 
 on the land adjoining the village, which 
 has almost the appearance of an English 
 market garden. 
 
 Returning from our walk round the bay, 
 we found a tolerable hovel, in one apart¬ 
 ment of which we spent the night. It 
 was cold, and our room being on an upper 
 story, reached by a stair-case from with¬ 
 out, with a boarded floor, a fire on it was 
 
EPIDAURUS. 
 
 227 
 
 out of tlie question, and we several times 
 regretted our earthen floor at Seal a, and 
 the blazing fire we there managed to keep 
 up. Bad as it appeared to our inexperi¬ 
 ence, we found that as we went farther 
 we fared worse. 
 
228 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 IERO.—NAPOLI.—TRAVELLING ARRANGEMENTS.— 
 TALAMEDE. 
 
 [9th AND 10th FEBRUARY.] 
 
 At six the following morning (the 9th 
 February) the horses were at the door, 
 hired for the sum of five drachmae each, 
 to convey us to Napoli; ourselves quitting 
 the main path, and going round by Iero 
 to visit the grove sacred to Aesculapius, 
 where we were led to expect some remark¬ 
 able antiquities, while our servants and 
 baggage took the direct road. After three 
 hours’ riding, we arrived at Iero; the first 
 part over a fertile plain, on which tobacco 
 and cotton -were growing; then through 
 a romantic defile along the side of a rocky 
 
IERO. 
 
 229 
 
 hill, with a mountain torrent tumbling 
 beneath ; the path in some places a mere 
 shelf, only broad enough for one to pass, 
 with a sheer precipice above and below; 
 while in others it wound through a beauti¬ 
 ful shrubbery, where the myrtle and arbu¬ 
 tus were joined over our heads by festoons 
 of the clematis in full bloom and odour. 
 By such a path we arrived at the place on 
 which stands, or rather stood, Iero. The 
 name Iero, and the relative situation to 
 Epidaurus, as well as the ruins on the 
 spot, leave no doubt as to the identity of - 
 the place with the sacred city of iEscu- 
 lapius. Pausanias, in most editions and 
 versions, is made to say, that the “ Sacred 
 Grove was on all sides surrounded by moun¬ 
 tains , and that within that circuit it was 
 not lawful to be born or to die an ex¬ 
 pression which, besides its seeming to 
 attribute a personal responsibility , in the 
 only two matters in which one can have 
 no choice, would lead us at first sight to 
 
230 
 
 IERO. 
 
 suppose tliat tlie sacred inclosure and in¬ 
 terdict extended on every side to the foot 
 of the mountains, and overspread the whole 
 valley, city and all; but this apparent 
 absurdity must have arisen from reading 
 op* 9 mountains , instead of opot, bounds or 
 Jences. The passage appears to me to mean 
 that the Sacred Grove was an inclosed 
 precinct, from which dying and parturient 
 patients were removed. This accords too 
 with what Pausanias adds, that in his own 
 time Antoninus Pius erected outside this 
 boundary hospitals for lying-in women, and 
 for the sick in the last stage of danger. 
 
 The only remains now traceable of this 
 ‘ Bath ’ of antiquity are those of the 
 theatre. Innumerable fragments of other 
 buildings lie around, but nothing like an 
 edifice, or anything to guide visitors in ap¬ 
 propriating to any particular object these 
 confused ruins. Even the name of a Grove 
 no part of the neighbourhood now deserves, 
 for there are scarcely a dozen trees in the 
 
IERO. 
 
 231 
 
 vicinity. The theatre, however, is very 
 large and perfect, though overgrown with 
 a shrub of the lentiscus tribe. It consists 
 of fifty-eight rows of seats, rising one 
 above the other, with steps at regular in¬ 
 tervals leading up through them ; each seat 
 about fifteen inches high. The depth from 
 the centre of what would be the stage to 
 the lowest seat, as near as we could judge by 
 stepping it, is sixty-five feet, and the breadth, 
 from wing to wing, seventy-five feet 
 
 The mention of this theatre by Pau- 
 sanias has been the source of another 
 strange mistake. He is made to say “ that the 
 theatre is within a temple.”—“In ipso fano 
 theatrum est,”— ( Aniasceus , ap. Facium 
 iv. 103,) or, as Taylor renders it, “ there 
 is a theatre in a temple .” What must 
 the temple have been which could contain 
 one of the greatest theatres of Greece ? 
 The whole difficulty seems to me to arise 
 
 * The total diameter is stated by Colonel Leake to 
 be 366 feet,— Top. Ath. p. 59. 
 
232 
 
 IERO. 
 
 from a mistranslation. What Pausanias 
 says IS * jLiritiavpiois £(j n Siocrpov Iv rui 7e put , 
 which last word should, I think, be printed 
 *'I iqco, meaning, “ the Epidaurians have a 
 theatre in Iero the adjective "Ie§&;, 
 sacred , having become in the course of 
 time the proper name of the place ; and 
 the passage would then clearly mean, that 
 the people of the “ Epidaurian district 
 have a theatre in the city of Iero.” 
 
 Abundance of temples , however, there 
 were in the valley. Pausanias enumerates 
 those of Aesculapius, Health, Diana, Apol¬ 
 lo, Venus and Themis, and a stadium of 
 mounded earth. There were, he also says, 
 numerous votive pillars, on which were in¬ 
 scribed the names and diseases of those 
 who had been cured by their pilgrimage to 
 the shrine. We saw the grassy surface of 
 the stadium, but had not time to look for 
 these marble records of the hospital. When 
 the new government "of Greece becomes 
 settled, and shall either direct public re- 
 
IERO. 
 
 233 
 
 searches or sanction private ones, there are 
 few places in Greece which promise a more 
 copious harvest of antiquities—though not 
 perhaps of a high class of art—than the 
 valley of Iero. 
 
 We had not the good fortune to see any 
 of the serpents or snakes sacred to iEs- 
 culapius and innocuous to men, with which 
 this place is said to abound. The weather 
 was probably unfavourable to their appear¬ 
 ance, for our examination was impeded by 
 a drenching rain. Trusting however to 
 the character of the Sacred Grove, we set 
 the weather at defiance, and persevered in 
 our inspection—confident that Aesculapius 
 would not allow his votaries to suffer from 
 their duty to him. And in this our hopes 
 were confirmed, though I cannot say that 
 in other respects we were not somewhat 
 disappointed. No doubt, with our recent 
 impressions of Athens, any place we could 
 have visited would have lost in the com¬ 
 parison. The truth is, the reports we had 
 
234 MEASURES OF DISTANCE. 
 
 received had carried our expectations rather 
 too high, and our semi-disappointment was 
 useful, as it warned us not to be so san¬ 
 guine in future. 
 
 Quitting the plain of Iero, we again 
 joined the main path near Ligurio; but 
 the rain now descended in torrents, and 
 lasted during the remainder of our journey 
 —four hours and a half. Here we ex¬ 
 perienced the uncertainty of measuring 
 distance by time; three miles are generally 
 estimated as an hour, and this computation 
 may be safely relied on when you have it 
 from good authority ; but when you inquire 
 of the peasants or native travellers, they 
 give you very different and inaccurate esti¬ 
 mates ; for instance, by the maps, Ligurio 
 is distant from Napoli about fifteen miles, 
 yet a party that we met soon after we had 
 left Ligurio, told us, on inquiring, that it 
 was only two hours to Napoli; the next, 
 about half an hour after, called it two hours 
 and a half; while within a few minutes, 
 
NAPOLI. 
 
 235 
 
 a succeeding traveller reckoned it only 
 three half hours . We, wet and weary, 
 were willing enough to believe this flatter¬ 
 ing report, and as we surmounted each 
 successive eminence, strained our eyes in 
 looking for the sea, as eagerly as the Ten 
 Thousand; but we were as often disap¬ 
 pointed; for it was not until we had ridden, 
 exclusive of our halt at Iero, above eight 
 hours from Epidaurus that we arrived at 
 Napoli, being about twenty-five English 
 miles, which agrees pretty well with the 
 general computation. 
 
 When we had descended into the Ar- 
 give Plain, we endeavoured to increase our 
 speed, but soon found that the road was 
 worse than in the mountains; our poor jaded 
 beasts sunk at each step more than a foot 
 deep in the mire, and we with difficulty 
 reached the town. 
 
 Napoli, the ancient Nauplia, is now 
 called Napoli di Romania , to distin¬ 
 guish it from the Napoli di Malvasia, a 
 
236 
 
 PALAMEDES. 
 
 fortress on the coast of Maina. The clas¬ 
 sical reader will recollect that Palamedes, 
 the son of Nauplius, the founder of this 
 city, was the unfortunate hero who detected 
 the feigned insanity of Ulysses when em¬ 
 ployed in the notable farce of sowing the 
 sea-shore with salt, and was by the ven¬ 
 geance of the crafty Ithacan put to death 
 by the Greeks, early in the Trojan war: 
 after him is called to this day the Palamede , 
 a fortress on a precipitous hill, looking 
 impregnable, and overhanging the town 
 which is in itself strongly fortified. 
 
 The streets are straight and narrow, with 
 high houses on either side, but exhibiting 
 none of that appearance of ruin which all 
 the towns we saw before or after displayed; 
 indeed, it is the only place which does not 
 bear marks of the ravages of time, or war— 
 still more destructive in this climate than 
 time. It is singular that this, the only 
 thriving town we found, is represented by 
 
 * Philostrat. Heroic, cap. 10. 
 
INN AT NAPOLI. 
 
 237 
 
 Pausanias as desolate, and fallen into utter 
 decay; and Dr. Clarke, in 1801, found it 
 unhealthy and declining. It is now, in 
 appearance at least, the very reverse. The 
 inn is very good ; but I recollect that our 
 apartment, being situated up two pair of 
 lofty stairs, we did not, stiff as we were, 
 with sitting so long in our awkward sad¬ 
 dles in a drenching rain, relish the ascent, 
 though eventually leading to comfort. We 
 engaged a sitting-room and three bed¬ 
 rooms, at five drachmae each room per day; 
 Avhile breakfast, dinner, &c., amounted 
 to five more, for each person; in fact— 
 as we were informed—very extravagant 
 charges; but as the house had an air of 
 comfort and cleanliness, to both of which 
 we had been for some weeks strangers, 
 we felt no inclination to dispute about 
 terms, especially as the amount, though 
 considerable at Napoli, was trifling, ac¬ 
 cording to an English estimate. 
 
 Our sitting-room looked over the place 
 
238 
 
 INN AT NAPOLI. 
 
 or square in which were the barracks, 
 whence, as every officer passed, the guard 
 turned out, and a terrible rolling of drums 
 ensued—these dulcet sounds greeting us 
 almost every five minutes. Our host was 
 a well-informed person, good-looking, and 
 willing to do all in his power to oblige us ; 
 his cookery and wines were good, and the 
 beds excellent; in short, our accommoda¬ 
 tion was scarcely to be surpassed even in 
 England, where everything is, I am John 
 Bull enough to think, better than else¬ 
 where ; and I could not but flatter myself 
 that the great resort of the English squa¬ 
 dron to Napoli, before the government had 
 been transferred to Athens, was the pri¬ 
 mary cause of the comfort of the inn, and 
 not without its effect on the prosperity of 
 the town. Our good word, moreover, is not 
 after one night’s halt, when hunger and 
 weariness might have prejudiced us in fa¬ 
 vour of any refuge, but after the experience 
 of three days ; and though our bills were 
 
TRAVELLING ARRANGEMENTS. 239 
 
 heavy, we could have no reason to complain, 
 for our accommodation was equivalent. 
 
 The first day of our stay we devoted to 
 seeing what we could in Napoli itself, and 
 making arrangements for our journey round 
 the Morea, having been recommended to 
 take our horses all the way from this place, 
 to save trouble and delay in the little vil¬ 
 lages at which we might have to rest. Our 
 landlord brought us a man who agreed to 
 furnish us with seven horses, at the rate of 
 five drachmae each per day, while travel¬ 
 ling, and three for every day we might 
 halt, and three drachmae each for five 
 days’ back journey from Pyrgo, a town on 
 the west coast, nearly opposite Zante, 
 whence we purposed to re-embark. We 
 at the same time gave him a sketch of 
 our intended route, fixing, in most cases, 
 the places where we were to rest at night 
 —in others, leaving it to the discretion of 
 the guides, four of whom were to accom¬ 
 pany us on foot; the whole journey was 
 
240 TRAVELLING ARRANGEMENTS. 
 
 also to be completed in ten days, unless we 
 should be ourselves the cause of any delay. 
 To this document,—for the agreement was 
 committed to writing,—we affixed our sig¬ 
 natures, as did the contractor, and it was 
 countersigned by the landlord, that, in case 
 of any mutiny, or ill behaviour of our 
 guides, we might appeal to the chief man 
 of the town, who would compel them to 
 perform their engagement. 
 
 The horses were allotted in the fol¬ 
 lowing manner :—Mr. Johnstone, Mr. 
 Newton, and myself, had one each, with 
 the luxury of English saddles; our two 
 servants had two others,—they, for the 
 purpose of carrying any small article 
 of luggage, using the pack-saddle of 
 the country, — while the two remaining 
 horses were laden in the following man¬ 
 ner:—one with two large baskets slung 
 across, one containing pots and pans, 
 and the other requisites for cookery, ba¬ 
 sons for washing, &c.; on the opposite 
 
TRAVELLING ARRANGEMENTS. 241 
 
 side were plates and knives and forks, port¬ 
 able soup, hams, and whatever we might 
 pick up on our journey in the way of pro¬ 
 visions, and on the top of these baskets lay 
 our beds,—by beds, I mean large quilts of 
 woven cotton, stuffed with cotton-wool, 
 in whicli we rolled ourselves at night, and, 
 stretched upon the floor, slept as soundly 
 as if on beds of down. These quilts are 
 easily procured at any of the larger towns, 
 as Athens, Napoli, and Corinth. The 
 other beast carried a portmanteau, slung 
 on each side in the same fashion as the 
 baskets, while above were placed hat- 
 boxes, carpet-bags, &c., heaped so high, 
 that the horse — c pars minima ipse sui ’— 
 seemed himself the least part of the pile. 
 such was our cavalcade. Our guides 
 consisted of the leader, Angeli, a good- 
 tempered, middle-aged man, who, be¬ 
 sides other good qualities, distinguished 
 himself by his dexterity in throwing a 
 stone, no vain accomplishment in the 
 
 M 
 
242 TRAVELLING ARRANGEMENTS. 
 
 Morea, where every hut we passed poured 
 forth troops of ferocious dogs. The next 
 in importance was a young man not more 
 than eighteen; very handsome, good-hu¬ 
 moured, and, what is more, extraordinarily 
 cleanly in his person—for a Greek ;—we 
 actually saw him wash himself once or 
 twice during the ten days ; the other two 
 were more subordinate personages, and 
 chiefly attached to the baggage, so that 
 they did not come within our immediate 
 observation. 
 
 Our original intention had been to leave 
 Nauplia on the morning of the 11th of 
 February, visit Tiryns and Mycenee, sleep 
 at Argos, and proceed next day to Tripo- 
 litza; but our host, studying our comfort 
 and his own profit, informed us that w r e 
 might visit the three former places in a 
 carriage (for Napoli did boast a carriage), 
 and return the same evening to sleep at 
 Napoli, bv which arrangement we should 
 pass another comfortable night, and, at the 
 
THE PALAMEDE. 
 
 243 
 
 same time, be as near our next halting 
 place, Tripolitza, as if we had started from 
 Argos. This last assertion was not quite 
 true, as we had afterwards, on our way to 
 Tripolitza, to retrace several miles of the 
 road by which we had returned from Argos, 
 and we eventually found that we had thus 
 lost twelve hours ; but the former con¬ 
 siderations were irresistible. Nor were we 
 sorry to save ourselves one long day in the 
 saddle, and thereby a portion of fatigue, 
 which, to those who ride only English 
 horses, on English saddles, over English 
 roads, may seem an inconsiderable circum¬ 
 stance for young men to think about; but 
 our experience, small as it was, had taught 
 us, that riding in Greece was a very labo¬ 
 rious exercise. 
 
 Having passed a great portion of the day 
 in the discussion and arrangement of these 
 plans, we proceeded to visit the Palamede,. 
 or fortress of Napoli. The ascent is wea¬ 
 risome, by upwards of five hundred steps, 
 
 m 2 
 
244 
 
 THE PALAMEDE. 
 
 and these by no means so easy as the idea 
 of the steps of a London hall-door may 
 suggest; most of them formed of thin flat 
 stones, with sharp edges uppermost, which 
 really mangled our feet. The fort is per¬ 
 fectly inaccessible on all sides, save at one 
 point, where it is connected with the range 
 of hills, of which it forms the seaward van, 
 and by which approach the Greeks cap¬ 
 tured it, by a coup de main , during the late 
 war. There are three lines of defence, 
 on which long brass Venetian guns are 
 mounted, of very large calibre; some of 
 them bear the date of 1687, and yet appear, 
 externally, perfectly fit for service. We 
 could not learn the amount of its present 
 garrison, but observed that a careful watch 
 was preserved, even over us, sentinels 
 pacing in all directions, as if they feared 
 that we three should surprise the fortress. 
 
 This rock commands an extensive and 
 beautiful view,—mountains beyond moun¬ 
 tains to the north and south, while Tiryns, 
 
CLASSICAL PROSPECT. 
 
 245 
 
 Argos, and Mycenae, (Krabata, as it is now 
 barbarously named,) form an almost imme¬ 
 diate foreground, with the Lernaean Marsh 
 a little to the south of Juno’s* favoured 
 city. 
 
 We could not help congratulating our¬ 
 selves on our good fortune, in being thus 
 able to admire, within so short an interval, 
 the rival scenes—according to Horace—of 
 classical poetry. 
 
 Sunt quibus unum opus est, intactce Palladis urbem] 
 Carmine perpetuo celebrare, et 
 
 Undique decerptam fronti praeponere olivam : 
 Plurimus, in Junonis honorem, 
 
 Aptum dicet equis Argos , ditesque Mycenas. 
 
 Od. i. 7. 
 
 Some praise, alone, Minerva’s virgin reign, 
 
 Her sacred olive and her sculptur’d fane : 
 
 These, others deem that Juno’s realm exceeds— 
 Mycenae rich, and Argos nurse of steeds. 
 
 * It seems that Juno has not neglected Argos even 
 in later years, for I think we may safely attribute to 
 her anger at this city’s being slighted in the choice of 
 the capital, the plague of a poisonous Jiy , which, during 
 the last summer, persecuted the Athenian citizens—a 
 mode of vengeance which the story of Io, of gadfly me¬ 
 mory, proves to have been familiar with the goddess. 
 
246 DEATH OF CAPO D’iSTRIAS. 
 
 We had, within a few days, seen both, 
 and hardly knew to which to give the pre¬ 
 ference. Both prospects are delightful. 
 At Athens, art and intellect predominated 
 over the natural features; here the superb 
 natural landscape surpassed the historical 
 interest. 
 
 Descending from the citadel, we visited 
 the church of San Spiridion, at the porch 
 of which the President of the Greek Re¬ 
 public, Count Capo d’Istrias, was shot. 
 They show, on the side of the door-way, a 
 mark in the wall made by a bullet, and 
 say it was the same that passed through 
 the Regent’s head, and then struck the 
 wall in that place. This was, I believe, 
 almost the last atrocity of the Greek Revo¬ 
 lution ; but we have little idea in England 
 of the wholesale horrors which had been 
 previously committed on both sides during 
 the struggle ; and we were sorry to find 
 that the balance of atrocity seemed to be 
 with the Greeks. 
 
NAPOLI. 
 
 247 
 
 We could find no other than this melan¬ 
 choly object of curiosity in the town, which, 
 considering its neighbourhood, is strangely 
 barren of antiquities. We therefore strolled 
 through the narrow streets, seeking an out¬ 
 let, and arrived at the harbour, in which 
 there was a good show of country shipping, 
 and the shore was crowded with busy traf¬ 
 fickers. There seemed, indeed, an active 
 commercial spirit. 
 
 A small island, crowned with an old 
 castle, just at the entrance of the harbour, 
 affords shelter and defence, and is also a 
 striking feature in the landscape. Look¬ 
 ing at it as w T e did, the sea as calm and as 
 bright as a lake on a summer’s day, with 
 the mountain scenery on the opposite side 
 of the bay, we might have imagined it a 
 Swiss lake and castle, backed by the snow¬ 
 capped Alps. 
 
 The good people at Napoli were sadly 
 discomposed at the rumour that the king 
 
248 CHOICE OF THE CAPITAL. 
 
 meant to make Athens the royal residence, 
 as they had hoped that their own town 
 might have been the capital of modern 
 Greece, which hopes, our intelligence of 
 the actual laying the first stone of the new 
 palace completely destroyed. 
 
 As it has been determined that Athens 
 is to be the capital, I, of course, conclude 
 that it is the best situation for one ; but it 
 struck us, with our partial knowledge of 
 the localities, that had we been called 
 upon to name the seat of government, it 
 would have been neither Athens nor Napoli, 
 but Corinth. The latter town is more 
 central—more adapted for trade with the 
 western world, particularly Italy, with 
 which they chiefly deal, as to both exports 
 and imports ; while the narrowness of the 
 isthmus would enable them to carry on the 
 trade of the Levant with almost equal faci¬ 
 lity. As a defensible point in case of inva¬ 
 sion, it is also, I am told, superior. The 
 
CHOICE OF THE CAPITAL. 249 
 
 Acro-corinthus is as impregnable as any ci¬ 
 tadel in the world, and Corinth is in a coun¬ 
 try capable of strong outworks and defences; 
 while it is, I believe, an historical fact that 
 Athens has been taken by every invader 
 who has attempted it, and I hear that it is 
 the opinion of the most experienced Eng¬ 
 lish officer in the Greek service, that there 
 is nothing to hinder the march of any force 
 up to the very town, and when there, no¬ 
 thing to prevent their entering, save what¬ 
 ever military force might be present. 
 There are no walls, and the defences of 
 the Acropolis have been removed, and 
 cannot, if the Acropolis is to be restored 
 to its architectural honours, be replaced; 
 and with regard to trade, nothing is actu¬ 
 ally imported or exported at the Peireeus, 
 but what the city itself consumes, and the 
 very few superfluous products of the bar¬ 
 ren soil of Athica. A classical enthusi¬ 
 ast, or an antiquary, would give his suff- 
 
 m 3 
 
250 CHOICE OF THE CAPITAL. 
 
 rage for Athens, but a politician might, I 
 think, have rather voted for Corinth ; and 
 the former feelings may probably have 
 influenced in some degree the decision of 
 those persons who fixed upon the most il¬ 
 lustrious city of ancient Greece to be the 
 capital of the modern kingdom. 
 
251 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 TIR'YNS.—MYCENJ2.—ARGOS.—BALL AT NAPOLI.— 
 LERNiEAN MARSH.—TEGEA. 
 
 [llTH AND 12TH FEBRUARY.] 
 
 We set forth early this morning on our 
 Argive excursion in the carriage already 
 mentioned, something of the nature of a 
 barouche, but old and clumsy, and much 
 meaner in appearance than the worst 
 London hackney-coach. The mules were 
 wretched, half-starved animals, with a 
 driver to match; yet for this affair we paid 
 more than we should have done in western 
 Europe for the hire of a handsome equi¬ 
 page. 
 
 Tiryns was our first object; situated close 
 
252 
 
 TIRYNS. 
 
 upon the main road to Argos, and about a 
 mile and half from Napoli. The very re¬ 
 mote antiquity of the walls, and their massy 
 construction, struck us very forcibly. Ti- 
 ryns, however, if we were to judge by what 
 we could trace of its remains, must have been 
 little morb than a fort, for a few minutes’ 
 walk took us round it, and it seems to be 
 almost in the state in which Pausanias 
 left it. 
 
 “ On turning to the right (on the way from Argos to 
 Epidaurus) you will see the ruins of Tiryns. The 
 Argives subverted the kingdom of the Tirynthians, 
 wishing to bring the inhabitants into their city, and 
 thereby to aggrandize Argos. The wall is all that is 
 left of the ruins, and is, according to report, the work of 
 the Cyclops. It is built of rough stones, each of which is 
 so large that the least cannot be moved out of its place but 
 by a yoke of mules; but formerly small stones were in¬ 
 serted, that each of these might fit in as much as pos¬ 
 sible with the great ones.”—Paus. Corinth, 25. 
 
 This description—which is perfect at 
 this day—gives, I believe, the earliest de¬ 
 finition of what is called Cyclopean archi¬ 
 tecture. 
 
TIRYNS. 
 
 253 
 
 Above this wall, in a ploughed field, is 
 an ancient well; and round some part of the 
 walls, and between their exterior and in¬ 
 terior faces—for they are twenty feet thick, 
 as well as 3000 years old—runs a covered 
 way, probably for the communications of 
 the garrison, formed by the stones gradu¬ 
 ally approaching towards the top, and 
 making a rude gallery. The whole stands 
 about forty feet above the level of the 
 plain, and is completely isolated; about two 
 hundred and twenty-six yards long, by 
 sixty feet at the greatest breadth, with two 
 gateways, one defended by a square tower, 
 built of immense stones. I must add, to 
 prevent misconception, that these are only 
 foundations , but sufficiently distinguish¬ 
 able to satisfy us of the exact force and pro¬ 
 priety of Homer’s epithet Tigw0« nuxioeaeav, 
 which Cowper, with all his boasted ac¬ 
 curacy, omits wholly, and whichJPope par¬ 
 donably amplifies :— 
 
 “ Strong Tirynthus' lofty walls.” 
 
254 
 
 MYCEN JE. 
 
 Our tour in Greece has satisfied me of 
 the importance of every word of him, who 
 was the great father of history and topo¬ 
 graphy, as well as of poetry. 
 
 After a short visit, which afforded, I 
 own, nothing more interesting than the cor¬ 
 roboration of the Homeric epithet—we pro¬ 
 ceeded onward, passing one or two villages, 
 near which we noticed fragments of white 
 marble; a well or two, and here and there 
 a chapel, until we arrived at Krabata, from 
 which a walk of a few minutes brought us 
 near the walls of Mycenae, where again 
 Pausanias will be a safer guide than the 
 current traditions, which are often (and I 
 think in this instance particularly) founded 
 on a misconception of his meaning. After 
 stating the destruction of Mycenae through 
 the envy of the Argives, because the My- 
 cenaeans had sent eighty men to Ther¬ 
 mopylae, and had gained a glory which the 
 Argives had forfeited, he proceeds :— 
 
 “ Some parts of the old enclosure remain, and a gate, 
 
TOMB OF AGAMEMNON. 
 
 255 
 
 with lions standing on it, and it is said that these were 
 the works of the Cyclops, who made the walls of Ti- 
 rynthus: amongst these ruins there is a fountain called 
 Persea, and a subterranean habitation of Atreus and 
 his sons, in which they deposited their treasures. There 
 is also a sepulchre of Atreus, and of those who, re¬ 
 turning from Troy with Agamemnon, were slain at a 
 banquet by ^Egisthus.”— Pans. Corinth, c. 16. 
 
 All this our guides would persuade us 
 that we saw, and some of the objects we 
 certainly did see. 
 
 Of the Gate of Lions there can be no 
 doubt; but we had many about the cavern, 
 which is now called both the Treasury of 
 Atreus and Tomb of Agamemnon. It is 
 entered from the side of the hill, and over 
 it runs a small watercourse, supposed to 
 be supplied from the fountain Persea; the 
 building is like a hollow cone, in diameter 
 forty-eight feet, in height fifty. Over the 
 door is a single stone_, twenty-seven feet by 
 sixteen: the only way in which we could 
 imagine that so large a mass could have been 
 placed in its present position, was by shap¬ 
 ing it on the upper side of the hill, in which 
 
256 
 
 TOMB OF AGAMEMNON. 
 
 the excavation is made, and then rolling it 
 down to its intended bed, covering the 
 whole with earth again, and restoring the 
 surface of the slope to its original appear¬ 
 ance outside; but as we saw other blocks 
 in the Cyclopean walls both of My cerise 
 and Tiryns, which we should have judged 
 to be almost as difficult to raise to their 
 present places, it is possible that this also 
 was raised by some machinery of a similar 
 nature, though more powerful than that em¬ 
 ployed on them. The cavern, on entering, 
 was pitch dark, but our guide had brought 
 with him some dry brushwood, which he 
 ignited, and thus lighted it up for our in¬ 
 spection. We then perceived a small door¬ 
 way, leading into another cavern, of a 
 similar character, but smaller : it seems 
 more natural to call this a tomb than a 
 treasury; for, being outside the wails of 
 the city, it would have been easy for an 
 attacking force to ransack it; and, as the 
 use of a treasury to the father must have 
 
TOMB OF AGAMEMNON. 
 
 257 
 
 preceded its conversion to a tomb for the 
 son, we cannot reconcile the double pur¬ 
 pose. But there seems to be in the whole 
 story a radical misconception of the pas¬ 
 sage in Pausanias, who clearly means that 
 the treasury, and the tomb, (distinct ob¬ 
 jects,) and the fountain, were all within 
 the walls ; and he adds expressly, that the 
 tombs of Clytemnestra and iEgisthus were 
 e a little outside the walls ; they not being 
 deemed worthy of burial within the walls 
 with Agamemnon and their other victims' 
 Passing on from this, and traversing the 
 watercourse, we saw another similar tomb, 
 which had fallen im These two excava¬ 
 tions may, therefore, be the tombs which 
 Pausanias attributes to Clytemnestra and 
 iEgisthus. They certainly cannot be either 
 the treasury of Atreus or the tomb of 
 Agamemnon, which, according to the or¬ 
 dinary translation of Pausanias’ words, 
 must be looked for within the city walls. 
 From the second cavern a few minutes 
 
258 
 
 GATE OF LIONS. 
 
 brought us to the Gate of Lions. Stand¬ 
 ing opposite to it, I could hardly believe it 
 possible that it had existed for so many 
 ages, notwithstanding all the combined 
 assaults of war and time. In its immediate 
 neighbourhood the Avails are still entire, as 
 Avell as in many other parts of the city: 
 the lions, which are rampant, resting their 
 fore legs against a low pillar, are, with the 
 exception of their heads, perfect, though in 
 the rudest style of sculpture. 
 
 From the spot AvhereAve stood the scene 
 AA^as full of interest—we Avere exceedingly 
 struck by the presence of these Cyclopean 
 monuments—the oldest authenticated work 
 which we had ever seen in any intelligi¬ 
 ble shape—and their exact accordance Avith 
 the description of Pausanias — Avhile the 
 ancient and jealous city of Argos, backed 
 Avith its commanding citadel, seemed still 
 to frown, at the distance of seven or eight 
 miles, on the ruins of its annihilated ri¬ 
 vals ! There Avas not a sound to disturb 
 
GATE OF LIONS. 
 
 259 
 
 the extreme solitude of a place, once the 
 wealthy capital of a powerful state;—the 
 conqueror of Troy was dust—his city rub¬ 
 bish ; but his name and memory were as 
 fresh as ever. This was the very scene to 
 illustrate the full force of Horace’s beauti¬ 
 ful allusion,— 
 
 Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona 
 Multi; sed omnes illacrymabiles 
 Urgentur ignotique longa 
 Nocte, carent quia vate sacro. 
 
 Hor. Od. iv. 9. 
 
 Before great Agamemnon reign'd, 
 
 Reign’d Kings as great as he, and brave, 
 
 Whose huge ambition’s now contain'd 
 In a small compass of a grave ; 
 
 In endless night they sleep, unwept, unknown, 
 
 No bard had they to make all time their own. 
 
 Francis . 
 
 But for the magic of the Grecian muse, 
 the victors and the vanquished would 
 have been lost in oblivion, and their monu¬ 
 ments unintelligible ruins. Nor must we 
 forget our obligations to the humbler labours 
 of Pausanias: without such a guide, had 
 
260 
 
 GATE OF LIONS. 
 
 any person stumbled on these mighty re¬ 
 mains, the question of what they had been 
 ■would simply afford matter of vague dis¬ 
 cussion to the antiquary, without exciting 
 those feelings of historical reality, and that 
 corresponding pleasure, which they now 
 kindle even in the least enthusiastic. The 
 Gate of Lions is choked with rubbish; but 
 I managed, on my hands and knees, to 
 crawl through a narrow opening, along 
 the very spot by which the King of men 
 had marched to accomplish the fate of 
 Ilium, and had returned triumphant, only 
 to be the victim of a domestic tragedy, 
 which has for ages interested the feelings 
 of mankind. 
 
 Besides this great gateway there is still 
 visible a smaller gate, or postern, more to 
 the north-east. The town was completely 
 commanded by two hills towards the east, 
 and would be untenable in these days 
 of artillery, though the distance of the 
 heights prevented any annoyance from the 
 
RUINS OF MYCENjE. 
 
 261 
 
 arrowy ammunition of ancient times. The 
 walls are of great magnitude and strength, 
 and do credit to their Cyclopean founders. 
 We traversed them, and mounted to the 
 more elevated part of the city,—a kind of 
 citadel,—round which are exterior defences. 
 On one side they stand on a cliff, which 
 runs sheer down some seventy feet, to 
 a stream falling into the Inachus. Here 
 our guides amused themselves by rolling 
 stones down, and listening to the echoes 
 they caused, bounding from crag to crag 
 till the water engulfed them. The com¬ 
 manding hills I have mentioned are on 
 the opposite side of this ravine. The ground 
 in the interior of the walls is strewed, in 
 many places, with fragments of pottery, 
 and we found one piece sufficiently perfect 
 to show that it had been part of a lamp, 
 such as we see in engravings of antiques. 
 Our approach roused some coveys of red 
 partridges, and hares, now the only deni¬ 
 zens of Mycenee, and seldom disturbed by 
 
262 
 
 ARGOS. 
 
 the foot of a stranger. We passed a pleas¬ 
 ing and instructive morning in this extra¬ 
 ordinary place, and walking hack to our 
 carriage proceeded to Argos, at which we 
 arrived in two hours, having crossed and 
 recrossed the dry bed of the Inachus, and 
 passed the ruins of a bridge. 
 
 Our guide might now have addressed us 
 in the very words of Sophocles— 
 
 - - VVV IxEtv’ £<'£fl v n <7 01 
 
 Flagovri XsiWnv, euv ttqoQvijlos del' 
 
 T6£g yag TTaXatbv v Agyov, x. r. K. haektpa. 
 
 -Now may thine eyes 
 
 Behold what long has been thy ardent wish. 
 
 This is the ancient Argos; this the grove 
 Of Io; stung with frenzy, o’er the earth 
 To wander : the Lycean forum , this, 
 
 Of the Lycean Phoebus ; on the left. 
 
 Glorious through Greece, that stately temple stands 
 Sacred to Juno. Now we are advanced 
 Whence thou mayest see Mycenae, rich in gold, 
 And this the house of the Pelopidse 
 With frequent slaughter stain’d. 
 
 Potter . 
 
 We were on the very spot described by 
 
ARGOS. 
 
 263 
 
 the poet *, but ruins covered in undistin- 
 guishable masses the groves, the agoras, 
 and the temples of the ancient Argos , and 
 the golden My cents. 
 
 Argos may be shortly described as a 
 straggling modern ruin, covering a great 
 deal of ground with a deserted citadel be¬ 
 hind it. There is a theatre larger, but not 
 so perfect as that at lero ; it has seventy 
 rows of seats, and with the additional dif¬ 
 ference, of a part of it appropriated to the 
 lower classes, like our galleries, for the 
 twenty upper seats are narrower, and by no 
 means so commodious as the rest, at the 
 
 * It is generally stated that the scene of the Electra 
 is at Mycence , but surely the lines above quoted desig¬ 
 nate the immediate neighbourhood of Argos, within 
 sight only of Mycense. In the course of the drama it 
 appears that the scene was in the Lycean agora, in 
 front of the royal palace, and not far from the tomb of 
 Agamemnon. I know not how to reconcile the opening 
 lines with the idea that the palace and the tomb were at 
 Mycense, seven miles from Argos. Franklin, who places 
 the scene at Mycense, cuts short the difficulty by coolly 
 saying, “ that Argos and Mycense were often mistaken 
 by the tragic poets for the same city.” 
 
264 
 
 ARGOS. 
 
 same time separated from them by the 
 backs of the highest tier of box seats, 
 five feet high; thus preventing, in some 
 degree, the intrusion of the spectators 
 above. 
 
 With this exception, Argos is an un- 
 distinguishable mass of confusion : before 
 the revolutionary war there was little to 
 be remarked ; there is now nothing! It 
 was twice or thrice besieged, and in the 
 last contest, in 1825, entirely depopulated 
 and destroyed, so that even the scanty ves¬ 
 tiges of antiquity which before existed, 
 are now obliterated by the recent desola¬ 
 tion. 
 
 Pausanias (Corinth, ch. xx.) says that 
 above the theatre is a temple of Venus ; 
 and this w T as pointed out to us by our guide, 
 though we could not define it very clearly. 
 I cannot, however, but think that Argos— 
 so old and so great a city—would be a 
 rich mine for antiquarian explorers, and 
 we particularly regretted that our arrange- 
 
ARGOS. 
 
 265 
 
 ments of returning that night to Napoli 
 prevented our examining the Argive Acro¬ 
 polis ; but the truth is, that the prospect 
 of mere masses of ruin, unless where pre¬ 
 vious study has developed their story, and 
 appropriated their remains, is wearisome 
 and profitless, save now and then to an 
 artist. Argos, though celebrated^ in my¬ 
 thology, is little so in history, and the 
 recollections connected with it produce 
 but a faint enthusiasm, — at least, after 
 the higher excitement of the realities of 
 Athens; and, on the whole, we took our 
 departure, thinking Argos—notwithstand¬ 
 ing Virgil’s beautiful panegyric— 
 
 Dulces moriens reminiscitur Argos— 
 the least interesting of any of the places 
 we had yet visited ; there being nothing 
 to distinguish it—to superficial travellers 
 like us—but its name . 
 
 On our return to our hotel at Napoli, we 
 found invitations for an evening party at 
 the English Consul’s, which we determined 
 
 N 
 
266 
 
 BALL AT NAPOLI. 
 
 to accept, that we might obtain even so 
 hasty a glance of the society of Napoli. The 
 hostess, and Mrs. Baker, wife of Colonel 
 Baker, British Commissioner for fixing 
 the boundaries of Greece, were the only 
 English women; the rest were all Greeks, 
 and had among them more pretty faces 
 than we had seen in all Athens. The Helen 
 of the evening was a young Hydriote lady, 
 wife of the nomarch, or mayor, of the city: 
 she was in her country costume, but it be¬ 
 ing her first appearance in society, she did 
 not dance, as she thought it very improper 
 —indeed, indecent—though she apparently 
 enjoyed looking on at what she was pleased 
 to distinguish by those two epithets. 
 
 We were introduced to a Mr. Masson, 
 a Scotch gentleman, who filled, with great 
 credit, the office of Attorney-General of 
 Greece, and had astonished the natives 
 by speaking for two hours in their own 
 language, against Colocotroni, when that 
 hero was indicted for conspiracy against the 
 
FOREIGN EDUCATION. 
 
 267 
 
 government, and condemned, though after¬ 
 wards pardoned. Mr. Masson informed 
 us that all the ladies we had seen, except 
 the beautiful Hydriote, had been educated 
 in Russia. This would, no doubt, be good 
 policy on the part of the Russians; but I 
 do not see how it could have been accom¬ 
 plished. I suppose we misunderstood the 
 phrase, which may have meant, under Rus¬ 
 sian influence , or some such thing. Dr. 
 Clarke says that the young people of Na¬ 
 poli were habitually sent to Athens for 
 education, which is very probable, I sup¬ 
 pose it is to some species of Foreign edu¬ 
 cation that we were indebted for their ap¬ 
 pearance at this assembly, for in general 
 the Greek ladies seem to show something 
 of the shyness and reserve of the Turkish 
 harem. 
 
 Mr. Masson was so obliging as to give 
 us letters to present to the different heads 
 of provinces, in case we should be placed 
 in any situation of difficulty; but, as it 
 
 n 2 
 
268 
 
 DELAYS. 
 
 happened, we had no occasion for using 
 them, our whole excursion being nearly 
 as devoid of adventure—I mean dangerous 
 adventure—as if we had been rolling along 
 behind four horses on a good English 
 high road. 
 
 We left the ball early, as we had to start 
 by daybreak, and had not yet made all the 
 arrangements for our departure. 
 
 We had ordered our horses at five 
 o’clock, but, from various delays, could not 
 leave the gates of Napoli before eight. 
 We afterwards learned by experience, that 
 if we wished to start at a particular hour, 
 it was necessary to tell the guides to be at 
 the door at least one hour and a half before 
 the time intended; for the loading of the 
 baggage horses, which with Englishmen 
 would occupy ten minutes at the most, with 
 these good people, who spend more than 
 half their time in debating the different 
 points, occupied at least an hour. We 
 therefore insisted that they should be- 
 
LERNiEAN MARSH. 
 
 269 
 
 gin their packing before we began break¬ 
 fast, and by tbe time we had finished our 
 meal, and the utensils had been washed 
 and packed, the guides had finished load¬ 
 ing the first horse: by these means, we 
 generally managed to be off about the in¬ 
 tended time; though even these precau¬ 
 tions sometimes failed, and our patience 
 was often tried by their absurd dilatoriness. 
 But we left, as I have already said, the 
 gates of Napoli at eight o’clock, and wind¬ 
 ing round the shores of its lovely bay, pass¬ 
 ing about five miles from Argos, and by 
 the Lerneean Marsh, where we saw neither 
 Hydra nor Danaides, nor indeed any liv¬ 
 ing thing but a few millers exercising a 
 small trade by the help of two clear and 
 rapid streams, that gush from a neigh¬ 
 bouring hill, and run through the Ler- 
 nsean Marsh to the sea. These mills, 
 which lie exactly on the opposite side of 
 the bay from Napoli, give the name of 
 Mylos a mill) to the village; and 
 
270 
 
 PALEOC ASTRI. 
 
 liere it was that in June, 1825, the Greeks, 
 under Demetrius Ipsilanti, defeated Ib¬ 
 rahim Pacha in a very severe and import¬ 
 ant engagement. From this village we 
 turned up into the interior, by the road 
 which Ibrahim had marched down. 
 
 Near this—perched like an eyrie on a 
 cliff—stood a castle, now deserted, the 
 work, it is supposed, of the middle ages, 
 when the Franks, and subsequently the 
 Venetians (who seem to have built more 
 than the other invaders), erected small 
 fortresses after their own fashion. There 
 are many of these castles scattered through 
 the Morea, generally designated by the 
 name of Paleocastri and Paleocastrezzi — 
 old camp , or old castle; which was all we 
 were able to learn about them, either from 
 the inhabitants or the guides. At three 
 hours from Napoli we joined the main road, 
 between Argos and Tripolitza, (where, if 
 we had adhered to our first intention, we 
 should have arrived a day earlier,) near a 
 
NEW ROADS. 
 
 271 
 
 small barrack, occupied by some soldiers 
 employed in widening and Macadamizing 
 the road: in this they have made some 
 progress, and a few months will place it in 
 the traveller’s power to proceed from Argos 
 to Tripolitza in a carriage, though, as we 
 shall see, if this were to be the final object, 
 there would be little inducement to travel 
 it: however, it may be expected that the 
 road will be eventually carried from Tripo¬ 
 litza, not only to Sparta on the south, but 
 towards the western coast also, which will 
 open a communication through regions full 
 of antique interest, and as yet very imper¬ 
 fectly known. 
 
 Tired with the heat of the day and the 
 long and difficult ascent, neither men nor 
 horses were sorry to halt at a little hovel by 
 the road side, where we refreshed ourselves 
 with the contents of our provision basket; 
 the guides at the same time making for 
 themselves a very nice looking omelet—a 
 luxury, which every now and then during 
 
272 
 
 GREEK WINE. 
 
 the journey they indulged in, and which 
 was the only addition to the black bread, 
 garlic and figs, which formed their usual 
 meals, washed down with the wine of the 
 country—a liquor tasting most abominably 
 of resin, and so very unpalatable, that when 
 our own store was exhausted, we could 
 hardly drink it, even when mulled and 
 mixed up with spices and sugar. The 
 resinous taste of all the wine in Greece is 
 attributable to the use of resin, not merely 
 in calking (if I may use the expression) 
 the seams of the skins and casks in which 
 the wine is kept, but also in the original 
 manufacture, for the purpose of preserving 
 it, the mode of making it being so bad that 
 it would otherwise soon spoil. On such 
 fare our guides subsisted through a long 
 and toilsome march, the whole of which— 
 with the occasional exceptions of mounting 
 behind us to ford a river—they performed 
 on foot. 
 
 During this halt we arranged, that while 
 
TEGEA. 
 
 273 
 
 our baggage, horses and servants, with 
 three of the guides, should proceed straight 
 to Tripolitza, where we were to rest that 
 night, we ourselves, with one guide, 
 should accelerate our march and visit the 
 site of the ancient city of Tegea, which lies 
 a little to the left of the direct road to Tri¬ 
 politza. 
 
 We, in consequence, hurried on ; and 
 soon after, passing a narrow defile in the 
 mountains, at an elevation of near 3000 
 feet above Napoli, the plain of Tripolitza 
 opened on our view, bounded by Msenalus 
 and other lofty mountains. Winding along 
 the banks of a small river, which we 
 forded near a village to the right, and 
 making our way over some ploughed land, 
 we arrived at Tegea. 
 
 Three villages, Piali, Agio-Sosti, and 
 Episcopi, occupy the site of the ancient 
 city, which must have been of great extent. 
 The latter name is derived, I suppose, from 
 Tegea having been in the middle ages 
 
 n 3 
 
274 
 
 TEGEA. 
 
 an episcopal see, suffragan to Corinth. 
 Here is an ancient church, now in ruins ; 
 in the walls of which, several broken 
 eolumns of various orders, friezes and 
 other masses of white marble have been 
 employed ; while the wells in the neigh¬ 
 bourhood exhibit fragments of sculpture, 
 with which also the ground is strewed. 
 As Christian churches have commonly 
 succeeded to heathen temples, I think 
 there is little doubt that this was the site 
 of one of the latter : the fragments of dif¬ 
 ferent orders would lead to a supposition 
 that here may have stood the magnificent 
 temple of Minerva, which Pausanias (viii. 
 45.) calls the greatest in Peloponnesus, 
 and which, he says, consisted of columns 
 of the three orders—Doric and Corinthian 
 within, and Ionic without. But these 
 fragments are all that we could observe of 
 this once important city, so celebrated in 
 the Peloponnesian annals, and which Pau¬ 
 sanias reports to have been crowded with 
 
MANTINEIA. 
 
 275 
 
 temples and statues. Tegea was also re¬ 
 nowned for the valour of its women, who— 
 when one of the many battles in which the 
 Tegeans conquered the Lacedemonians ap¬ 
 peared of doubtful issue—rushed from an 
 ambuscade to the field, and routed the 
 enemy. Hence there was a statue erected 
 to the ‘ woman-like Mars, 9 and the shield 
 of a widow, one Marpessa—who led the 
 heroines on that day—was suspended in 
 the great temple of Minerva, even down 
 to the time of Pausanias. Who can tell 
 what secrets of antiquity these fields may 
 conceal? 
 
 Distant about two or three hours to the 
 northward, and visible from Tegea, is the 
 site of Mantineia. We can hardly compre¬ 
 hend how on such a narrow space could have 
 been acted that long hostility between these 
 two cities, which brought all Greece into 
 combat on this narrow arena; the Lace¬ 
 demonians and Athenians taking part with 
 the Mantineians ; and the Thebans, Tiles- 
 
276 
 
 MANTINEIA. 
 
 salians, and Arcadians with the Tegeans. 
 It was in command of the latter forces that 
 Epaminondas was killed in the celebrated 
 battle under the w^alls of Mantineia. 
 
 Had we slept at Argos, instead of re¬ 
 turning effeminately in our barouche to 
 Napoli, we might have visited Mantineia 
 without any great deviation, and the scene 
 of the fate of Epaminondas would have had 
 more interest for us than the Lernsean 
 Marsh. It was still indeed near us, but 
 we found it impossible to visit either it 
 or Megalopolis, about fifteen miles on the 
 opposite side of Tripolitza, both of which, 
 had we been better advised, and the wea¬ 
 ther been more favourable, we could easily 
 have reached. 
 
 Evening was now falling fast, and be¬ 
 fore we arrived at the Turkish capital of 
 the Morea night had come on pitch dark 
 —our guide not too well acquainted with 
 his path—the road a broken causeway over 
 a kind of bog. On one side ran a dark 
 
TRIPOLITZA. 
 
 277 
 
 stream, whose depth the eye could not 
 penetrate, while our tired beasts, by put¬ 
 ting their feet into the deep holes made 
 by the removal of the stones of the ruined 
 causeway, stumbled at almost every step ; 
 added to this, we knew not how far we 
 were from the town, nor, indeed, I be¬ 
 lieve, did our guide. In this situation, 
 after a twelve hours’ ride, it will be easily 
 believed that we saw the first twinkling 
 lights of the town with great satisfaction. 
 We were unable to define anything but 
 ruins, and were satisfied that the Turkish 
 vizier had done his work effectually, when 
 he determined not to leave a house stand¬ 
 ing in this once large and populous capital. 
 When the Greeks took Tripolitza in 1822, 
 they had put all the inhabitants to the sword 
 in a most barbarous manner; 8000 male 
 Turks are said to have perished in that 
 slaughter, besides women and children. 
 When Ibrahim Pacha repossessed himself 
 of the evacuated city in 1829, he signalised 
 
278 
 
 TRIPOLITZA. 
 
 his vengeance for such barbarity by de¬ 
 stroying literally every house it contained, 
 and left it, as we found it, a heap of ruins. 
 After threading through the remains of 
 several dark narrow lanes, we suddenly 
 came upon our baggage, horses, and ser¬ 
 vants—the latter holding a council of war 
 in what had been the main street. The 
 group was picturesque; some of the few 
 inhabitants giving advice as to our night’s 
 habitation; while another party were 
 seated, smoking by a large wood fire on 
 the side of the street ; the blaze from the 
 burning wood lighting up the whole scene, 
 and giving the figures a wild and unearthly 
 appearance, more like denizens of Tartarus 
 than of a place upon earth. There was little 
 choice of lodgings, and we were soon settled 
 for the night in a miserable den, in which 
 our sole means of warmth was a small 
 brazier, of charcoal. There was, however, 
 no great danger that the exclusion of air 
 from our apartment would be so complete 
 
TRIPOLITZA. 
 
 279 
 
 as to endanger our lives from the fumes. 
 Having satisfied our hunger, we passed the 
 night well wrapped in our quilts, and bid 
 defiance to a violent storm which we heard 
 howling without. 
 
280 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 TRIPOLITZA.—CLIMATE.—SNOW-STORM.—VOURLIA.— 
 EUROTAS.—MISTRA AND SPARTA. 
 
 [13tii, 14th, and 15th of February.] 
 
 When we rose next morning (Saturday, 
 13th of February), the scene that pre¬ 
 sented itself was dreary in the extreme, 
 and we unanimously pronounced Tripo- 
 litza to be the most wretched prospect that 
 any of us—even Mr. Johnstone, who had 
 had an extensive experience of ruins and 
 deserts—had ever yet seen. When we en¬ 
 tered the town the preceding night, we had 
 barely light enough to discover that it had 
 been greatly damaged; but w^e had fan¬ 
 cied nothing so miserable as the scene 
 which the morning revealed. There had 
 
CLIMATE. 
 
 281 
 
 been a sharp frost; the ground was covered 
 by a heavy fall of snow, and, in horrible con¬ 
 trast, stood the mouldering walls of houses 
 and churches blackened with fire, and exhi¬ 
 biting the traces of blood and devastation. 
 Over the whole expanse of the surround¬ 
 ing plain there was scarce a tree or shrub 
 to break the monotony of the snowy waste, 
 and a few miserable peasants were seen 
 toiling among the ruins, half frozen with 
 the cold, which they seldom experience in 
 such extremes as they did this winter, none 
 of equal severity having occurred, as we 
 were informed, for upwards of thirty 
 years. 
 
 If our friends, whose anxiety for our 
 health had sent us in search of a milder 
 climate, could have seen the miserable place 
 where we had passed the night, and the 
 dreary prospect of the morning, they would, 
 no doubt, have been surprised and alarmed ; 
 and even to ourselves, though we had no 
 valetudinarian apprehensions, the prospect 
 
282 TRAVELLING ANNOYANCES. 
 
 was dismal enough:—to take the road 
 seemed hopeless—but to remain at Tripo- 
 litza impossible ;—to go back and visit 
 Mantineia was out of the question—the 
 very tombs of the heroes, if ever discernible, 
 were now buried under the snow:—we 
 had, therefore, nothing to do but to en¬ 
 deavour to push on by the direct road to 
 some more tolerable asylum than the mo¬ 
 dern ruin of Tripolitza. 
 
 We were now, for the first time, suffer¬ 
 ing any serious inconvenience from the 
 season in which we were obliged to travel, 
 and even this was only in the loftier re¬ 
 gions ; while we were consoled by hearing 
 that summer travellers had even greater 
 annoyances to complain of, from the ex^- 
 treme heat^ and, above all, from flies, mus- 
 quitoes, and certain familiar insects, which 
 are intolerably troublesome, particularly 
 the latter, which it is impossible to escape, 
 but by carrying tents and sleeping on the 
 green sward. From these attacks the cold 
 
SEASON FOR TRAVELLING. 283 
 
 weather protected us—except in a slight 
 degree this night at Tripolitza, where we 
 had a taste of what the plague must be in 
 summer. The best and most enjoyable 
 season for travelling in Greece—as we were 
 unanimously assured by those to whom we 
 happened to speak on the subject—is late 
 in the spring, about the beginning of May. 
 The traveller has then dry and temperate 
 days, with long mornings and evenings, to 
 pursue his journeys or antiquarian re¬ 
 searches. The general aspect of the coun¬ 
 try is at its best—the trees are clothed in 
 their new liveries—the woods are become 
 vocal—the earth is in its freshest green, 
 and the gushing streams, not yet dried up 
 by the heats of summer, gratify all the 
 senses, and afford the still greater pleasure 
 of an occasional bath—a luxury very dif¬ 
 ficult of attainment at other seasons—in 
 summer from the drought, and in winter 
 from the extreme cold. This is a more 
 important consideration than the inexpe- 
 
284 TRAVELLING ANNOYANCES. 
 
 rienced may think. I need hardly say, that 
 there is no such thing as an artificial bath 
 in modern Greece; indeed, there is not even 
 so much—except in the great towns—as a 
 wash-hand basin. The difficulty we had 
 in keeping ourselves tolerably clean was 
 very great; for when, as was generally the 
 case, in addition to our own party a large 
 family, many of them females, occupied one 
 small apartment, there was not a possibility 
 of total ablution, though we went as far as 
 decency would permit in Greece, and a 
 great deal farther than it would have per¬ 
 mitted in an English cottage. 
 
 But we were this day destined to un¬ 
 dergo more than these petty inconveni¬ 
 ences ; and we do not think that any tra¬ 
 vellers in Greece could make a drearier 
 journey on a worse day than it was now 
 our fortune to perform. 
 
 The road at first lay over the plain, by 
 a path in which we followed each other, in 
 what are called Indian files —which, by all 
 
GREEK ROADS. 
 
 285 
 
 the evidence of the localities, must have 
 also been the Grecian mode of marching ; 
 for we hardly met, throughout the Morea, 
 the vestiges of a road or street in which two 
 armed persons could have walked abreast*. 
 
 Leaving the village of Piali and the 
 ruins of Tegea (which we had visited the 
 preceding evening) a little to the left, and 
 a lake on our right, we began a fresh ascent. 
 While we were in the plain the sun had 
 shone, with a wintry face indeed, but still 
 sufficiently to shed a little cheerfulness 
 around; but as we topped the first hill he 
 bade us farewell for the day, which had 
 every appearance of terminating unfavour¬ 
 ably. 
 
 At the distance of about four hours from 
 Tripolitza, we arrived at a resting place , 
 
 * The main incident of the CEdipean story was occa¬ 
 sioned by the narrowness of the high road, between 
 Thebes and Delphi. Even at a spot where three roads 
 met, (Edipus, a single foot-passenger, was forced out of 
 the way —\\ ohoZ —by the car of Laius.— Soph. CEd. Tyr. 
 804. 
 
286 
 
 PASS OF POTAMO. 
 
 having crossed and recrossed a stream 
 (whose direction we followed) upwards of 
 forty times, during which I underwent the 
 discomfort of having one of the guides 
 mounted behind me, redolent with garlic 
 and multitudinous bad smells, it being im¬ 
 possible for him to walk, the river alone 
 dividing two hills precipitous to the water’s 
 edge. This, I believe, is very appropri¬ 
 ately called the Pass of Potamo —the river 
 Pass. The name of the resting place we 
 either did not inquire, or have forgotten in 
 the vexation which it occasioned us. It 
 was a hovel worse than the poorest of 
 those Irish huts which so much surprise 
 English travellers. Our guides had in¬ 
 formed us that it was a buona locanda — & 
 good inn—and pressed us to halt there 
 for the night, pointing out the thick and 
 stormy appearance of the sky, which boded 
 a heavy fall of snow. 
 
 We did not like the first glimpse of the 
 place, but, that we might not be thought 
 
A BUONA LOCANDA. 
 
 287 
 
 obstinate, dismounted to make a nearer 
 survey; but tlie abominable odor which 
 met us at the door prevented our even en¬ 
 tering for that purpose. As much of the 
 dark interior as the eye could penetrate, 
 presented a confused mass of children, pigs, 
 poultry, oil-jars, skins, strings of onions, 
 and figs, with all the filth and smells con¬ 
 comitant with such a congregation of matter. 
 We positively refused to remain here for 
 the night, while our guides as positively re¬ 
 fused to proceed, and there was every pro¬ 
 bability of a serious disagreement at this 
 early stage of our journey. Determined, 
 however, not to yield, both because the 
 place was really intolerable, and because 
 we feared that if we now submitted to our 
 guides, we should not easily become our 
 own masters again, we three mounted and 
 proceeded on the path, ordering the guides 
 to follow with our servants, under the 
 vague penalty that “ they would, if they 
 did not, be the sufferers though the 
 
288 
 
 SNOW STORM. 
 
 truth was, that we should have been the 
 real sufferers, in case of their disobedi¬ 
 ence. We had pursued our unattended 
 course hardly an hour before the prophecies 
 of our guides were accomplished, and we 
 were overtaken by a most violent storm of 
 wind and snow—the latter driven in our 
 faces with such force that we were not able 
 to advance against it, and we really had no 
 alternative but to turn our backs and sit it 
 out. In addition to this discomfort, we 
 were uncertain whether we were in the 
 right road, the guideshaving not yet made 
 their appearance, which we indulged a 
 hope that they would do, although they had, 
 when we left them, expressed their deter¬ 
 mination of remaining at the buona locanda, 
 which, no doubt, appeared so to them, and 
 which even we began to think might have 
 been better than our present position. Not 
 a house or hovel of any description was to 
 be seen, and the ground was so completely 
 saturated with previous rain, and the pre- 
 
MOUNTAIN ROAD. 
 
 289 
 
 sent sleet and snow, that our horses sunk 
 far above their fetlocks in the mud at each 
 step. Our feelings were at this moment 
 by no means the most pleasurable : we did 
 not speak, but sat in the pelting storm, 
 ruminating on the chances of where we 
 might that night rest, and thinking, with 
 something like bitterness, of Dr. Clarke’s 
 celebrated assertion, that “ it was as easy 
 to travel through the More a as in Derby¬ 
 shire.” He had never tried it! At last 
 the storm ceased, and sooner than we ex¬ 
 pected, and we again urged on our jaded 
 beasts, till, reaching the top of one of the 
 hills, we anxiously through our glasses 
 looked back to see if we could catch any 
 glimpse of our retinue in the winding of 
 the road. After a long survey, when al¬ 
 most giving way to despair, we descried 
 some figures which we sanguinely resolved 
 could be no other than they, some miles 
 off, but following our path: this revived 
 our spirits, and we again pushed on. Dur- 
 
 o 
 
290 
 
 CHANGE OF CLIMATE. 
 
 ing all this time our road was, without 
 exception, the worst that it is possible to 
 conceive—over quagmires—through rivers 
 —by the edge of precipices, and up moun¬ 
 tain torrents. Along the bed of one of 
 these we toiled for upwards of an hour, 
 over large loose stones, constantly giving 
 way under the horses’ feet, and rolling down 
 upon the following traveller. 
 
 But if we had been unprepared for this 
 severity of weather and local desolation, w’e 
 were equally surprised by the quick vicissi¬ 
 tudes of climate and scene which we expe¬ 
 rienced. We had been scrambling through 
 this wintry wild, up the north side of the 
 mountain, but when we had surmounted 
 the pass, and had descended a little on the 
 other side, we found ourselves in a com¬ 
 parative paradise, and in the temperature 
 of an English spring. The country was 
 beautiful, though uninhabited, and the 
 road gradually improved. Here, as night 
 and darkness were approaching, we dis- 
 
VOURLIA. 
 
 291 
 
 mounted to wait the arrival of our fol¬ 
 lowers, and to give our horses liberty to re¬ 
 fresh themselves, by cropping the grass 
 and shrubs : when after an hour the guides 
 overtook us, we discovered that one of 
 them, still sturdy and contumacious, had 
 allowed the others to proceed without him, 
 keeping his own baggage-horse, which car¬ 
 ried our beds, and portmanteaus, in which 
 were stowed all our worldly riches : about 
 their safety we were rather uncomfortable; 
 but the arrival of the rest had raised our 
 spirits, and, promising the men a buona 
 mano on arrival, we went on merrily, and 
 at nine—thirteen hours from leaving our 
 last hotel —arrived at the Khan of Vourlia, 
 a distance, by the map, of about thirty miles, 
 but to our feelings three times the distance. 
 Vourlia is about three hours’ distant from 
 Mistra, which is discoverable from it. 
 
 Our cares were almost forgotten in the 
 enjoyment of a blazing fire, and the pros¬ 
 pect of a good dinner, though the unpleas- 
 
 o 2 
 
292 
 
 THE GREEK. 
 
 ing remembrance of lost beds and treasure 
 would at times flit across our thoughts, 
 w T hen— 
 
 From without 
 
 A mighty shout 
 
 startled us, and one of the guides rushed 
 in to announce that ‘ the horse had come, 
 but not the Greek? —‘ Hang the Greek ! * 
 we thought; ‘ it is his own fault, and he 
 will no doubt soon make his appearance in 
 good season/ The horse had brought us 
 all we cared about. We were, however, un¬ 
 consciously under obligations to the Greek 
 for not leaving the shelter they had pro¬ 
 posed for us, before the snow-storm was 
 over: our beds were quite dry, which they 
 would not otherwise have been, and as the 
 delinquent himself soon made his appear¬ 
 ance and apology, all ended well. 
 
 When announcing the arrival of the 
 lingerers, we observed that the speaker, 
 talking of his countryman, said the ‘ Gn'eek 
 bad not come/ instead of using the more 
 
YOURLIA. 
 
 293 
 
 common colloquial term, the man , or the 
 guide; and this peculiarity I had noticed 
 several times before, when one Greek was 
 speaking of another—as we should when 
 talking in contradistinction of brutes and 
 men;—it is perhaps a remnant of their 
 old habit of considering all the rest of 
 mankind as barbarians. 
 
 The Khan of Vourlia was a palace com¬ 
 pared to the buona locanda, and some esti¬ 
 mate of both, as well as of the kind of 
 accommodation the traveller meets in 
 these parts, may be formed from the 
 vignette in the title-page—a sketch which 
 Mr. Newton made of our apartment and 
 avocations this evening. I, with the as¬ 
 sistance of Demetri, one of the servants, 
 am employed in cooking—Mr. Newton is 
 beating up eggs, which, mixed with a little 
 hot water, forms our substitute for milk— 
 and Mr. Johnstone is preparing our port¬ 
 able soup for the pot; while another ser¬ 
 vant is spreading an oil-skin table-cloth— 
 
294 
 
 SEATS. 
 
 a most useful article of luxury with which 
 Mr. Johnstone had provided himself. The 
 open door admits one of the guides, bring¬ 
 ing in some fire-wood and a hen, which 
 has just been slaughtered for our use, 
 and it shows in the distance Mount Tay- 
 getus, covered with snow. 
 
 It will be seen that we contrived, on this 
 occasion, to find something like stools to 
 sit on; but, in general, we suffered more 
 inconvenience than I could well have be¬ 
 lieved, from the want of raised seats ; and 
 I should advise a traveller to provide him¬ 
 self with a camp, or folding-stool, which can 
 be easily carried: indeed, unless he has 
 attained, by longer practice than ordinary 
 travellers are likely to have, the supple in¬ 
 flexions of eastern nations, and can squat 
 on his hams like a Mussulman or a 
 tailor, a raised seat is almost indispensable. 
 Mr. Johnstone had some oriental experi¬ 
 ence, but Mr. Newton and I, being alto¬ 
 gether unused to the sartorial position, 
 
THE EUROTAS. 
 
 295 
 
 could not bend our limbs into the proper 
 position, and, after one or two ineffectual 
 attempts, gave it up in despair, and stretch¬ 
 ing ourselves at length on our quilts, and 
 resting on one arm, fed ourselves with 
 the other—a most inconvenient operation : 
 how the ancients managed to enjoy their 
 luxurious banquets in this position, I can 
 as little conceive as poor Mr. Pallett in 
 Peregrine Pickle. 
 
 Sunday, 14 th February. Vourlia it¬ 
 self is prettily situated, and commands a 
 beautiful prospect over the cultivated plain, 
 through which the Eurotas —Iri is the 
 present name of the classic stream of Di¬ 
 ana—meanders, encircling (a dozen miles 
 lower down) the site of the ancient Sparta 
 —while beyond appear, in snowy sub¬ 
 limity, the mountain-range and pinnacles 
 of Taygetus, under which, rising in ter¬ 
 races, on an insulated rock, stands, or 
 rather stood, the town of Mistra. 
 
 Before we reached Mistra we crossed 
 
296 
 
 MISTRA. 
 
 the Eurotas by a singularly lofty bridge of 
 one arch, and passed the remains of a 
 Roman aqueduct, built about the time of 
 Antoninus, and probably by that great 
 benefactor to the Morea, and to Sparta in 
 particular. On the outskirts of the town 
 we were overtaken by violent rain, which 
 drove us hastily to our quarters, and con¬ 
 fined us during the remainder of the day: 
 this was no great loss, for the upper town is 
 quite deserted, the Acropolis is in ruins, 
 and neither contains any object of antiqua¬ 
 rian interest. The Greek Papas is the 
 chief receiver of visitors, though his accom¬ 
 modation is not extensive : we had his 
 only spare room—just large enough for 
 three to lie down, and this ‘ served us for 
 parlour and bed-room and all.* He had 
 better rooms, but they were now hired by 
 the government for the public business. 
 The old gentleman was very civil, and 
 content with the gratuity we gave him 
 when we took our leave. 
 
GREEK CHURCH. 
 
 297 
 
 I liad all along been entrusted with the 
 culinary department, and had generally the 
 good fortune to meet the approbation of 
 my companions, but this day I was sup¬ 
 posed to have excelled myself, in manu¬ 
 facturing some hare-soup, which, though 
 somewhat of the same hue, was, I flatter 
 myself, far more palatable than any Spartan 
 broth ever made on the same spot, and my 
 friends—too partial to my humble merits— 
 assured me that it was as good as Ude him¬ 
 self, or any other professor of the noble 
 science of gastronomy, could have produced. 
 While I was busy in these household con¬ 
 cerns my companions entered into conver¬ 
 sation with the Papas, chiefly on the sub¬ 
 ject of the Greek Church. A fine strap¬ 
 ping young fellow came in, bearing a strong 
 family likeness to the priest, and on rally¬ 
 ing the Papas about it, he said that no one 
 could take priest’s orders till he was thirty 
 years of age, and if he married before that 
 time, he might retain his wife. They 
 
 o 3 
 
298 
 
 GREEK CHURCH. 
 
 baptize on the eighth clay, by immersion 
 —confess—adopt the seven sacraments— 
 believe in transubstantiation, but differ 
 from the Roman Church, in administering 
 the sacrament in both kinds, in not elevat¬ 
 ing the Host as an object of worship, and in 
 rejecting the Filioque *, and the notion of 
 purgatory. The old gentleman’s ideas about 
 transubstantiation and purgatory seemed 
 gloriously confused. They have, like the 
 Romanists, I think, a saint for every day 
 in the year. In the course of the evening, 
 we had several other visitors besides our 
 host, who came to have a peep at the 
 strangers, but they all formed, by their 
 politeness and good manners, a striking 
 contrast to what a stranger would have ex¬ 
 perienced in the remote villages of Corn¬ 
 wall a few years ago; and as soon as they 
 perceived that we wished it, they retired, 
 and left us to our repose. 
 
 * That is, that the Holy Ghost proceeds from the 
 Father only, and not from the Father and the Son. 
 
SPARTA. 
 
 299 
 
 Next morning ( Monday , loth Febru¬ 
 ary ,) broke, like the day before, with a 
 storm of rain and sleet, which was, no 
 doubt, heavy snow on the mountains, and 
 w*e congratulated ourselves that we had 
 not stopped at the buona locanda ) where, 
 from the weather we had subsequently expe¬ 
 rienced, we concluded that we should have 
 been snowed up for several days. About 
 mid-day, however, the sky cleared and the 
 sun shone, and we sallied forth to visit the 
 ruins of Sparta, distant about three miles 
 south-east from Mistra, the path leading 
 through groves of mulberry, olive, and 
 orange trees, the latter still laden with 
 their golden fruit. 
 
 Thucydides says that in future days, if 
 Sparta and Athens should be destroyed, 
 the latter would, from the superior magni¬ 
 ficence of its ruins, be supposed to have 
 been the greater state of the two, implying 
 
 * Thucydides, I. chap. x. 
 
300 
 
 SPARTA. 
 
 that Sparta was the greater when the his¬ 
 torian wrote. No prophecy can be more 
 true; a careless traveller, ignorant of the 
 localities, would pass over the ancient site 
 of Lacedemon without knowing or suspect¬ 
 ing that a city had ever stood there: the lands 
 are cultivated —seges ubi Sparta —and on 
 one side of a ploughed hill is excavated the 
 theatre, which, with the foundations of a 
 small temple, called the Tomb of Leonidas, 
 form the whole visible vestiges of Sparta. 
 
 But even these remains did not belong 
 to the Sparta of Menelaus, of Leonidas, of 
 Greece, but to the modern Roman town, 
 which has also disappeared in the lapse of 
 ages, without leaving any vestiges except 
 of the two edifices I have mentioned, which 
 were, in all probability, works of the time 
 of Antoninus Pius, in honour of whom, as 
 * Preserver of the City,’ several frag¬ 
 ments and inscriptions have been occasion¬ 
 ally ploughed up. 
 
 The Eurotas alone remains, the natural 
 
2, orrdirn,, JJ&/rra,yAlfr&wdrle r^TSd 7. 
 

 
 
MAINIOTES. 
 
 301 
 
 defence which enabled that haughty La¬ 
 cedemonian city to boast that ‘they had no 
 necessity for other walls than the breasts of 
 her citizens:’—this still meanders through 
 the fertile plains, tilled no longer by the 
 Helots, but by the fierce and turbulent 
 Mainiotes, who come down during spring 
 and summer from their mountain abodes 
 for that purpose, and who pay, as we Avere 
 told, a very reluctant obedience to the laws 
 of regenerate Greece, waiting only for a 
 favourable occasion to resume their ancient 
 predatory system of life. Strong mea-' 
 sures have been taken against them, and 
 travelling is now tolerably safe ; but as 
 long as the present generation exists they 
 will hardly be restrained, if any commo¬ 
 tion take place, from returning to then- 
 old habits, which were corroborated and 
 increased during the anarchy of the Avar of 
 independence. We saAV but feAV of the 
 race, as they retire to the mountains dur¬ 
 ing the winter season, the plain being con- 
 
302 
 
 MISTRA. 
 
 sidered unwholesome, and only reappear 
 when the approach of spring recalls them 
 to their agricultural pursuits. 
 
 It is the intention of the present govern¬ 
 ment to rebuild this ancient capital of La¬ 
 conia, (indeed some of the public buildings 
 are already in progress,) and to make it 
 the chief city of the province ; but the 
 plans which have been sent from the capi¬ 
 tal for the intended town do not meet with 
 approbation, as the houses must be all 
 built flush with the street, as in European 
 towns, while the inhabitants declare that 
 it will be impossible for them to live with¬ 
 out their court-yards and large balconies 
 in front, and in consequence, no founda¬ 
 tions of private houses have yet been laid. 
 
 All the people of Mistra had a pallid 
 look, and many that we saw complained of 
 colds and affection of the lungs. One 
 of our servants was attacked by a kind of 
 ague, for which the place is notorious, and 
 we were forced to leave him behind for a 
 
MISTRA. 
 
 303 
 
 few days’ rest, but he overtook us by tak¬ 
 ing the direct road to Andritzena, while 
 we made several detours in the indulgence 
 of our antiquarian curiosity. 
 
 This being the week before Lent*, in 
 which, as well as the succeeding six, no 
 meat is allowed by the Greek Church to 
 be eaten, we found ourselves in great dan¬ 
 ger of being compelled to keep fast, with¬ 
 out the consolatory reflection that we were 
 fulfilling a duty. We therefore began to 
 take precautions against such an involun¬ 
 tary observance of the Greek ritual. Re¬ 
 turning from our excursion to Sparta, we 
 met a shepherd driving a flock of lambs, 
 and stopping him, desired our guide to enter 
 into a treaty for the purchase of two: he 
 succeeded in getting them for the sum of 
 two drachma, that is about ninepence each: 
 it must not, however, be supposed that 
 
 * It must be observed all through, that the Greeks 
 follow the old style, and that their dates differed from 
 ours by eleven days. 
 
304 
 
 MISTRA. 
 
 lambs are always as cheap as this ; indeed 
 we found all species of eatables rather 
 dear ; but it is probable that the shepherd 
 had a dismal foreboding, that unless he 
 could sell his lambs before the close of 
 the day, the next night’s frost might leave 
 him few to dispose of, as many had been 
 already killed by the continued cold. We 
 afterwards heard that this bad weather, 
 and consequent mortality among the sheep, 
 had extended all over Greece. In Negro- 
 pont, one or two landlords, whose chief 
 wealth lay in their flocks, lost every one 
 of their lambs, and were nearly ruined. 
 
305 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MOUNTAIN JOURNEY.—LONDARI.—SAKONA.—MOUNT 
 ITHOME. 
 
 [16th and 17th of February.] 
 
 Our intention had been to proceed from 
 Mistra to Calamata on the Gulf of Coron, 
 by a pass which exists across the ridge of 
 Taygetus, and thence on to Messene; but 
 we were informed from all quarters that 
 this track, difficult and even dangerous in 
 the best season, was now utterly impracti¬ 
 cable. We were therefore obliged to 
 proceed to Londari, whence, by the passes 
 near the sources of the Alpheus and 
 Eurotas, we should turn , to use a mili¬ 
 tary phrase, the range of Taygetus, and 
 descend into the Messenian Plain. This, 
 
306 
 
 NATURAL DIVISIONS. 
 
 though a very great circuit, was the only 
 road way by which the mountains could 
 now be passed. 
 
 I may here observe, that until I had 
 visited Greece, I never had any very dis¬ 
 tinct idea of the small extent of the most 
 celebrated states, and of the natural causes 
 which kept them divided into so many 
 independent communities. It seems, in 
 fact, that each state was composed of a 
 kind of valley, separated from its neigh¬ 
 bours by natural barriers of sea or moun¬ 
 tains, which rendered the communications, 
 either of war or amity, very difficult and 
 circuitous, and maintained the spirit of 
 separation and nationality between the 
 several states. It took the powerful state 
 of Sparta three hundred years finally to 
 subdue the Messenians, which can only 
 be accounted for by the difficulties of the 
 intermediate country. In proceeding from 
 Mistra to Messene, we were obliged to 
 perform nearly double the direct distance 
 
CROWN LANDS. 
 
 307 
 
 between the two places, and through a 
 country almost impracticable. 
 
 The morning was fine, and we were in 
 our saddles before eight o’clock, and re¬ 
 traced our steps back to the lofty bridge I 
 have already mentioned over the Eurotas ; 
 but instead of recrossing it, we continued 
 for some time along the right bank of the 
 river, noticing in places that the bank was 
 preserved from falling in by a strong facing 
 of stone, apparently ancient, though we 
 could form no idea of the date of its erec¬ 
 tion. Shortly after leaving the banks of 
 the river, we passed through a farm in a 
 higher state of cultivation than any we had 
 yet seen : great apparent care had been 
 bestowed on the mulberry-trees, and every¬ 
 thing bore the mark of industry—we met 
 also one or two peasants in whose caps ap¬ 
 peared a silver regal crown, the badge 
 showing that they served the state. On 
 inquiry we found that the lands which had 
 
308 
 
 FORD. 
 
 attracted our notice were the property of 
 the government. 
 
 It was a cold day, and I had dismounted 
 to warm myself by a walk, when, as I was 
 picking my steps very daintily over a small 
 stream, in the bed of which some large 
 stones had been placed to assist the transit 
 of the foot traveller, one of the baggage- 
 horses, which was close behind, by a sud¬ 
 den rush, deprived me of my narrow foot¬ 
 way, and forced me into the water;—this 
 was not comfortable, but as the culprit was 
 luckily the luggage-horse, I soon provided 
 myself with dry things. I mention this 
 trifling incident as a warning to travellers 
 in such country not to precede their horses, 
 or at least to have their eyes about them: 
 there were a hundred spots in the course 
 of our tour where the being overset in this 
 manner would have been certain destruc¬ 
 tion. 
 
 This day was the coldest we had expe- 
 
SNOW SCENE. 
 
 309 
 
 rienced, and on reaching the summit of a 
 hill, where a wide plain covered with snow 
 opened upon us, the guides showed some 
 hesitation as to the possibility of proceed¬ 
 ing ; but as we were resolute, they con¬ 
 sented to advance, and here we saw some¬ 
 thing like the instinct that guides the 
 American savage through his woods and 
 morasses,—for though there was not a sin¬ 
 gle mark to guide him on his path, at least 
 none visible to us, Angeli, the chief of our 
 attendants, advanced a few steps, and after 
 a moment’s, and only a moment’s hesita¬ 
 tion, marched boldly forward, bidding us 
 follow, which we did implicitly, without at 
 all seeing where we were to go. On he 
 went, nearly up to his knees in snow at 
 every step; and after a tiresome march of 
 an hour, we again arrived at a place where 
 the snow had thawed, and the path was 
 once more discernible. We asked him if 
 he had ever been on this route before, and 
 were surprised to hear that he had not; 
 
310 
 
 MOUNTAIN ROAD. 
 
 but he must have had much practice 
 amongst snow, to deal with it so resolutely 
 and skilfully as he did on this occasion. 
 
 After this a fresh difficulty arose,—the 
 path on the side of a precipice, similar to 
 many we had already traversed, was dis¬ 
 similar in one serious circumstance—the 
 rain had in several places caused the ground 
 which formed the trifling thread, scarcely 
 broader than Mirza’s bridge, on which we 
 rode, to give way in several places. These 
 we crossed with trepidation, and looked 
 back to see how the baggage-horses would 
 manage it; and here again the guides suc¬ 
 ceeded in getting them over, by themselves 
 supporting the weight on the beast’s back, 
 while he was, as it might be said, in mid¬ 
 air. If a false step had been made, the 
 descent into the torrent below would have 
 been probably fatal to either man or beast; 
 or, if life should be preserved, the bruises 
 inevitable from such a fall, and the chance 
 of drowning at the bottom, must have 
 
MOREOTE DOGS. 
 
 311 
 
 been very serious. The country is, in¬ 
 deed, exceedingly wild, being, in fact, no¬ 
 thing but a ridge of mountains, a continu¬ 
 ation of Taygetus, which, from their great 
 height, are frequently covered with snow, 
 and supply the sources of the Eurotas, 
 which flows from their eastern side, and of 
 the Pamisus and Alpheus to the west. 
 
 This range is connected with that which 
 we before passed above Vourlia, and ano¬ 
 ther which we shall have still to cross on 
 our return from Messene. 
 
 We saw in this day’s journey some fine 
 specimens of the Moreote shepherd-dogs, 
 about the size and shape of a Newfound¬ 
 land dog, but with very much the dispo¬ 
 sition of a wolf: three or four are attached 
 to each flock, and no sooner does a way¬ 
 farer appear than a general attack is com¬ 
 menced by them, their masters looking on 
 with complete apathy, or rather approba¬ 
 tion : luckily they are not very adventur- 
 
312 
 
 MOREOTE DOGS. 
 
 ous, and even the pretence of throwing a 
 stone, a retaliation to which they are well 
 accustomed, is sufficient, in general, to keep 
 them at hay, till you have passed their beat; 
 but at times this mode of mock defence 
 is unsuccessful, as we found to-day, for 
 in passing the before-mentioned farm, the 
 dogs, as many in number as seven or eight, 
 advanced, like a pack of hungry wolves, 
 near enough to bite the horses’ heels, until 
 the guides coming up, gave them the stern 
 reality of a shower of stones, and compelled 
 them to a hasty and howling retreat,—one 
 wretched animal received a blow which 
 must have maimed him for life, and pre¬ 
 vented a renewal of his tricks upon tra¬ 
 vellers; he lay down and howled in a most 
 distressing manner, and although he was 
 the unprovoked aggressor, we could not 
 but feel something like sorrow for the poor 
 beast. 
 
 We had been assured at Mistra that nine 
 
LON DARI. 
 
 313 
 
 hours would take us to Londari; but we 
 had already ridden ten, and were not in 
 sight of our destination. We were high 
 in the mountains, up which we had toiled 
 ever since we had left the banks of the 
 Eurotas; and arriving almost at nightfall 
 on one side of a high ridge that over¬ 
 looked a great extent of plain, we were 
 grievously disappointed at not being able 
 so much as to see the town in search of 
 which all eyes were anxiously directed. 
 But suddenly, on turning sharp round a 
 prominent point of the hill, we were agree¬ 
 ably surprised to see the village close at 
 hand, perched on the other side of the 
 ridge on which we had been travelling, and 
 which we had not expected to find in so 
 lofty a situation. 
 
 Tired, wet, and cold, we gave a shout of 
 exultation at the agreeable surprise, and 
 trotted on with lighter hearts. On reach¬ 
 ing the village, we were glad to see that 
 
 p 
 
314 
 
 LON D ARI. 
 
 two or three houses bore the exterior marks 
 of comfort; they were each two stories 
 high, and with glazed windows : but on 
 entering, great was our disappointment; 
 the walls were damp from the newness of 
 the mortar, while the tiles of the roof did 
 not join close enough to keep out the rain; 
 and, worst of all, there was no fire-place in 
 any of them: we tried all, and all were 
 alike: at last we took refuge, as we had 
 done the night before, with the Papas of the 
 village, not that his dwelling was better than 
 the others, but a good fire in the centre of 
 his den was an irresistible attraction. His 
 family disappeared, and we reigned alone. 
 The cold was extreme: notwithstanding 
 a fire kept up the whole night,—round 
 and almost in which we lay wrapped 
 in our quilts—the water in a jug not two 
 yards from us was frozen hard. The 
 cold, at one time, luckily awoke me, for 
 getting up to revive the fire, I perceived 
 
GREEK PAPAS. 
 
 315 
 
 that a spark had fallen on my cotton 
 coverlid, which was already smouldering 
 to a great extent; yet this hint was not 
 sufficient to make me give the fire a wider 
 berth, and, if possible, I hugged the dan¬ 
 ger still closer. Wretched as our accom¬ 
 modation had been, the Papas was not 
 satisfied the next morning with the same 
 amount of douceur we had given elsewhere, 
 and pressed for more, which we at first re¬ 
 fused, but afterwards contributed another 
 drachma;—whether in gratitude for this 
 or (if he knew our feelings) to punish us 
 for our illiberality, he bestowed on us, at 
 parting, a very close and unpleasant em¬ 
 brace. His breath savoured most abomina¬ 
 bly of garlic, while his thick, grizzled, and 
 matted beard, and dirty face, were by no 
 means agreeable, when brought into close 
 contact with our cheeks. I was the first vic¬ 
 tim ; but being taken by surprise, I had not 
 the pain of anticipation, while my compa- 
 
 p 2 
 
316 
 
 LONDARI. 
 
 nions afforded me much amusement by 
 their ineffectual manoeuvres and attempts 
 at escape : the old man stood at the door, 
 so that they could not make their exit with¬ 
 out passing him. The guides told us after¬ 
 wards that he had asked them to represent 
 his poverty to us, and to recommend us to 
 give him four or five dollars; so that he 
 must have been disappointed at receiving 
 only one. 
 
 It may seem somewhat hard-hearted, as 
 it certainly is irksome, to practise such 
 petty economy; but it must be recollected 
 that in this, as in more civilized countries, 
 any deviation from the usual rates is cer¬ 
 tain to produce a great deal of accumu¬ 
 lated imposition, and finally to involve the 
 too easy traveller in a variety of annoyances 
 —dissatisfaction to others, and vexation to 
 himself. 
 
 Londari, which is said to be the ancient 
 Leuctra, differed from most of the other 
 
COLOCOTRONI. 
 
 317 
 
 towns we visited, in being situated at tlie 
 top of a liill, commanding a narrow pass. 
 It bore marks of having been occupied as 
 a post of defence during the late war : the 
 walls of the different buildings, immedi¬ 
 ately on the entrance of the gorge, were all 
 perforated with loop-holes for musketry; and 
 it was this position that Colocotroni—so 
 shamefully, as his enemies say—abandoned 
 on the approach of the Turkish army, when 
 he had an opportunity of making it a second 
 Thermopylae, and himself a Leonidas, in¬ 
 stead of leaving, as his retreat did, Tripo- 
 litza entirely at the mercy of the enemy. 
 
 We were again at no great distance 
 from Megalopolis; but even had its attrac¬ 
 tions been greater than by all accounts they 
 were, it would have been nearly impossible 
 to have reached it at this season across 
 these Alpine wastes. 
 
 From Mistra to Londari we had pro¬ 
 ceeded in an almost northerly direction ; 
 
318 
 
 KHAN OF SAKONA. 
 
 but now, doubling tbe mountains, we were 
 to follow a southerly course, to gain Mes- 
 sene. 
 
 The severity of the night’s frost had ren¬ 
 dered the roads very dangerous, especially 
 as the path was steep ; yet the horses pre¬ 
 served their footing in a most miraculous 
 manner, though their shoes were merely 
 single thin plates of iron covering the 
 whole hoof; yet thus shod they carried 
 us over places where we could with diffi¬ 
 culty have maintained our own footing. The 
 road was a continued descent for four hours, 
 through a vast forest, chiefly of oak. 
 About half-way down stands a house, or 
 station for a few military, who demanded 
 and inspected our passports, before we 
 were allowed to proceed. As we continued 
 our descent, the change in temperature was 
 very marked and agreeable, till at length, 
 on arriving at the Khan of Sakona, at 
 the bottom of the mountain, the heat be- 
 
CONDITION OF WOMEN. 
 
 319 
 
 came quite oppressive. Messene, or ra¬ 
 ther Mount Itliome, was in sight at first 
 starting, distant, as was computed, about 
 thirty miles; but on the maps it is barely 
 twenty. It rises like a cone from the 
 plain, with the sea, the gulfs of Modon 
 and Navarino*, behind it. The Khan of 
 Sakona is at the nearest extremity of the 
 plain, which is about ten miles across: 
 here we baited and the guides dined. 
 While we were admiring the magnificent 
 prospect before us, some women passed us 
 laden with heavy burdens, which bent them 
 almost to the ground, while the men who 
 accompanied them were not taking any 
 share in the labour. This we had observed 
 in several places, not without indignation at 
 the want of gallantry in the latter. A few 
 
 * Navarino is the ancient kingdom of Nestor. Its 
 etymology has given the moderns some trouble; but I 
 think the modern name is to be traced in Homer. He 
 calls the territory of Nestor, Pylos and Arene. II. ii. 591 . 
 The latter, with the addition of v*vs, a ship , makes 
 naturally the name of the harbour of Navarino. 
 
320 
 
 TRIANGULAR BRIDGE. 
 
 pieces of money given to the poor women, 
 with some of our bread and figs, quite sur¬ 
 prised them, and they seemed hardly to 
 believe their senses, at such unusual notice 
 and attention bestowed upon them; the 
 men really appeared to think and care less 
 about them than their horses and mules. 
 
 The march over the plain was tiresome, 
 till, at the end of three hours, after cross¬ 
 ing a curious triangular bridge, over two 
 confluents of the Pamisus, somewhat in the 
 style of that at Crowland, in Lincolnshire, 
 we got into a prettier country. On the 
 banks of another of the tributary streams 
 of the Pamisus we suddenly came upon 
 a wild-looking roving party, armed to the 
 teeth, of whose profession we were igno¬ 
 rant, and we could not but entertain strong 
 doubts as to the safety both of our purses 
 and persons. We were glad to discover 
 that they were in pursuit of the very 
 class of marauders, to which we, at first 
 sight, had supposed them to belong, and we 
 
MOUNT ITHOME. 
 
 321 
 
 continued our route with an additional feel¬ 
 ing of security. 
 
 We soon after commenced the ascent of 
 Mount Ithome, which is very steep and 
 difficult, though highly beautiful, the trees 
 and shrubs arching over the path, much 
 to the damage of our clothes and faces. 
 The plane-trees were remarkably fine— 
 their giant arms stretching out horizon¬ 
 tally about six feet above the ground, and 
 frequently as large as the trunks of the trees 
 themselves. They are said in some parts of 
 Greece to spread so enormously, that pro¬ 
 prietors have entertained their tenants to 
 the number of two hundred under the shade 
 of one: this, we were told, took place a 
 few years ago on Mr. Noel’s estate in 
 Negropont. I can easily believe it, after 
 seeing the prodigious specimens that fell 
 under our own observation, many of which 
 would have afforded similar accommodation 
 to nearly that number. 
 
 On the right of our path, but with 
 
 p 3 
 
322 
 
 PALEOCASTRO. 
 
 several intervening valleys and hills, crown¬ 
 ing a lofty eminence, frowned the ruins of 
 one of the castles —Paleocastris — which 
 still remain in various parts of the country, 
 relics, as I have already said, of the Middle 
 Ages. 
 
323 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MESSENE.—ITS EARLY HISTORY.—ARCADIA.—MOUNT 
 LY CjEUS.—TR AGOGE. 
 
 [17TH AND 18TH FEBRUARY.] 
 
 We now came in sight of Messene, a city 
 which, though inferior in classical asso¬ 
 ciations to Athens, Argos, and Sparta, has 
 yet a very peculiar historical interest. Its 
 war with Sparta is the chief event in the 
 annals of Greece, between the return of the 
 Heraclidse and the invasion of the Persians; 
 and though its story had not the advantage 
 of being celebrated by the Epic or Tragic 
 Muse, I cannot quite say, “ they had no 
 poet and they died” because Pausanias has 
 preserved from oblivion the tragedy of the 
 
324 
 
 MESSENE. 
 
 family of the ADpytidse *, more interesting, 
 because more natural and more real than 
 that of the Pelopidse. But what is the fame 
 conferred by the sober relations of Pau- 
 sanias on the nameless daughters of Lysis- 
 cus and Aristodemus to the splendour 
 with which Sophocles and Euripides have 
 invested the names of Iphigeneia and An¬ 
 tigone ? 
 
 It seems doubtful whether the city be¬ 
 fore us was ever properly called Messene ,— 
 a name which rather belonged to the region 
 only—the city being called Ithome, from 
 the citadel under which it was built. It 
 seems that originally all the towns in this 
 part of Greece were merely walled enclo¬ 
 sures, formed under the protection of some 
 fort, or acropolis, where the inhabitants 
 of the country, with their flocks and herds, 
 were in the habit of seeking temporary 
 
 * See the very curious account of the first Messenian 
 war, copied from Pausanias into ail the histories of 
 Greece. 
 
MESSENE. 
 
 325 
 
 shelter from hostile incursions. Such, 
 Pausanias says, was the origin of Ithome, 
 built during the first Messenian war; and 
 although the present remains are—to a 
 great extent, if not altogether—of a much 
 later age, yet there seems reason to suppose 
 that they were erected on the ancient pla^i, if 
 not on the old foundations. Pausanias says, 
 that after the first Messenian war, the Lace¬ 
 demonians levelled Ithome to the ground; 
 r yiv ’1 xaS’etXov If sScdpor. JMeSS. 13. And 
 we know that it w^as rebuilt some centuries 
 after, under the advice and direction of 
 Epaminondas, on the same principle which 
 guided him in the construction of Megalo¬ 
 polis, which we were informed exhibits 
 the same style of fortification as Messene. 
 These walls form a large enclosure, destined 
 to receive not merely the citizens of Ithome, 
 but the whole Messenian neighbourhood; 
 and it is clear, from the remains scattered 
 over the space which these walls enclose, that 
 what could be called the town , must have 
 
326 
 
 MESSENE. 
 
 occupied but a small portion of the interior, 
 the rest affording an occasional asylum to 
 the rural population. 
 
 We dismounted at a gateway, formed of 
 immense blocks of stone most beautifully 
 fitted, and opening into a circular court, 
 with towers on either side. We had not 
 yet seen any similar form of gate, nor any 
 military masonry so exact. The impost or 
 architrave of the inner gate has been thrown 
 down ; it is nineteen feet long, and resting 
 with one end on the ground, it gives a grand 
 idea of the magnificence of the original 
 works. These consisted of a wall or ram¬ 
 part, with square towers at certain inter¬ 
 vals, very like the fortifications of the Mid¬ 
 dle Ages in western Europe. The towers 
 were at least tw r o stories high; the story 
 above the rampart was entered from the 
 side, and had loop-holes for the archers. 
 There were originally at least thirty of 
 these towers; nine were standing a few 
 years since, and seven may be still counted 
 
MESSENE. 
 
 327 
 
 rising above the level of the walls, and in 
 some both stories remain ; but on the south¬ 
 ern, or seaward side, the foundations only 
 of the walls now exist. 
 
 While we forced our way through tan¬ 
 gled brushwood, and over broken pillars, a 
 tinge of melancholy was mingled with our 
 pleasure. Our fancies had full scope to 
 repeople the ruined town, for not a sound 
 broke the solemn stillness of the air, nor 
 was another human being visible. We 
 stood by a Greek church on an eminence 
 in the valley—perhaps the remains of the 
 temple of Apollo, which was so sacred, that 
 it was said, on one occasion, to have de¬ 
 terred the Spartans from storming the lower 
 town, lest they should be guilty of the pro¬ 
 fanation of so holy a place. 
 
 In the walls of this chapel had been 
 built up several pillars, and stones bearing 
 inscriptions; a fine Doric capital formed 
 the altar, and all our respect for the use 
 to which this fragment was applied could 
 
328 
 
 MESSENE. 
 
 not mitigate our sorrow for the destruction 
 of the edifice to which it belonged. Per¬ 
 haps some future antiquaries may discover 
 amongst the inscriptions the names of the 
 victim daughters of Lysiscus and Aristo- 
 demus, and of the youth who was driven to 
 the hard alternative of sullying the fame , 
 to save the life of his betrothed. In this 
 remote place, where there was little temp¬ 
 tation to pound the marble for lime,— 
 which has never been exposed to explosion 
 of gunpowder,—where no dilettanti have 
 plundered,—and where, in short, none of 
 the ordinary means of destruction have been 
 at work,—it may be hoped that the surface 
 of the earth may still cover and preserve a 
 large store of such antiquities as we may 
 suppose a provincial capital to have con¬ 
 tained. 
 
 The evening was lovely—and the pros¬ 
 pect of the surrounding mountains and the 
 distant sea magnificent;—but from this 
 spot, that stern enemy to romance and 
 
MAVROMATI. 
 
 329 
 
 poetry, downright vulgar hunger, called us 
 away, and a few steps brought us within 
 sight of the village perched half-way up 
 the mountain, by name Mavromati, which 
 some books give as the modern name of 
 the city of Messene. Here some patriarchs 
 of the hamlet, seated on the ground, were 
 discussing our arrival, and civilly pointed 
 out the place at which the servants had 
 fixed our abode for the night. 
 
 Mavromati afforded us much the same 
 accommodation that we met with else¬ 
 where ; fowls, black bread, and eggs, in 
 the way of food, and the earthen floor for 
 our hearth and couch. 
 
 We had now reached the farthest point 
 of our journey, and may henceforth be con¬ 
 sidered as working our way homeward. 
 At this season of the year the mountainous 
 districts of Maina were inaccessible, and 
 although the shores of the bay of Coron 
 may be very picturesque, there were no 
 objects to the southward of Ithome suf- 
 
330 
 
 MOUNT LYCiEUS. 
 
 iiciently interesting to induce us to risk, by 
 any further detour , the loss of our passage 
 in the next steam-packet, though, as it 
 turned out, we might safely have done so. 
 
 On the morning, therefore, of Satur¬ 
 day, the 20th of February, we started at 
 our usual hour from Mavromati: passing 
 over a mill-stream which supplied the an¬ 
 cient enclosure with water, and through 
 the ancient gate, we descended Mount 
 Ithome, and, recrossing the three-armed 
 bridge, bent our steps northwards. 
 
 We now began to ascend the range of 
 Mount Lycseus, the tC Saltus Lyceei,” the 
 woody patrimony of Pan : and near a little 
 village, named Constantino— not at the 
 moment thinking that we were on the 
 territory of the inventor of the Shepherd’s 
 pipe, we were suddenly arrested by the 
 notes of that instrument, far up the side 
 of the mountain. The sounds fell plea¬ 
 santly upon the ear, but had a still more 
 agreeable effect, when it reminded us that 
 
shepherd’s pipe. 
 
 331 
 
 we were in Arcady. Shepherds’ pipes and 
 garlanded crooks I had hitherto thought 
 of as the mere official appurtenances of a 
 pastoral poem, and the rustic’s answer to 
 the sentimental lady’s inquiry “ where his 
 pipe was ?”—“ that he had left it at home, 
 ’cause he had no baccy,” seemed very na¬ 
 tural and probable; but here in Arcadia, 
 on the very territory of Pan himself, we 
 heard and saw the pipes and crooks actually 
 in use, after a fashion that would not have 
 disfigured the Strephon and Chloe of a 
 fancy ball. 
 
 We should not have thought it neces¬ 
 sary to have prayed the deity to treat us 
 as well, on his own mountain, as he did 
 Horace’s kids on Lucretilis. 
 
 Faunus et igneam 
 Defendit sestatem Capelles 
 Usque meis, pluviosque ventos. 
 
 Pan the noxious force restrains 
 Of scorching heats and stormy rains. 
 
 But we found that he might be very rea- 
 
332 
 
 CLIMATE. 
 
 sonably invoked, even in these his native 
 seats, against opposite vicissitudes of wea¬ 
 ther; for we this day suffered another 
 complete change in the temperature. After 
 ascending for two hours on the south and 
 sunny side of a mountain, and finding it 
 inconveniently warm, we suddenly encoun¬ 
 tered at the top—not, indeed, “ stormy 
 rains” — but worse — a waste of snow. 
 Our guides, who were, I presume, pre¬ 
 pared for wind or rain, were now completely 
 at fault, the track being utterly lost. They, 
 however, made the welkin ring with their 
 shouts, to find if any one was within hear¬ 
 ing, and, after a few trials, were answered 
 by a voice from some distance, which set 
 them right, but without our having a 
 glimpse of the informer’s person; — his 
 direction guided us to a village in one of 
 the wildest spots imaginable. We were 
 obliged to halt when within sight of and 
 not fifty yards’ distance from the village, 
 which our invisible informant had in- 
 
VALLEY OF THE NEDA. 
 
 333 
 
 dicated, until we could get some one to 
 show us how to reach it,—the natural dif¬ 
 ficulties of the ground, with the superin¬ 
 cumbent mass of snow, rendered it, with¬ 
 out such aid, impossible to advance; and 
 when we had reached the houses, the scene, 
 so wild, so black, so horrible—a deep glen, 
 with lofty mountains nearly shutting out 
 the gloomy sky above—was magnificently 
 dreary. The valley below us was that of 
 the Neda, which we had been told was 
 beautiful: it might be so in summer, but 
 certainly, at this time. Nature had here put 
 on her sternest aspect. 
 
 The village seemed completely excluded 
 from the world ; and after a short halt, we 
 pushed on without regret for Tragoge, 
 having hired a local guide to conduct us to 
 some more intelligible region. 
 
 The road (a word which since Tripolitza 
 must be understood never to mean more 
 than a mountain-path, and sometimes even 
 less) was well suited to the scene : the 
 
334 
 
 TRAGOGE. 
 
 horses struggled with difficulty through 
 the heavy clay and moving stones, while 
 the tangled branches of the ilex and holly 
 tore our faces and clothes, and compelled 
 us to embrace our horses’ necks most lov¬ 
 ingly. We descended to the Neda, crossed 
 it at a ford, and dismissing the Arcadian 
 swain, again ascended till we reached Tra- 
 goge. The rain, which now began to fall 
 heavily, did not allow us to stop and admire 
 a pretty, but I suppose occasional, water¬ 
 fall, not far from the village, the stream of 
 which fell above thirty yards like a silver 
 thread. 
 
 We went from hovel to hovel, seeking 
 admission for the night, but in vain. I had 
 a bad head-ache, and from that cause, as 
 well as fatigue, could scarcely keep my 
 seat, so that I was little inclined to put a 
 favourable construction, if any could be 
 found, on the inhospitality of Tragoge. I 
 began to be a little less enthusiastic about 
 Arcadia, and I muttered— 
 
TRAGOGE. 
 
 335 
 
 -the rude Arcadian boor 
 
 Against the houseless stranger shuts the door. 
 
 But our guides at length persuaded one 
 person to take us in, and, by that easy 
 vicissitude of feeling to which travellers, 
 as well as soldiers, are accustomed, we soon 
 experienced something like comfort, en¬ 
 sconced on one side of a large fire-hearth, 
 the other being occupied by the family, con¬ 
 sisting of grandmother, husband and wife, 
 wife’s brothers and sisters, and the children 
 of the house, in all about fifteen. The 
 grandmother enacted the part of wet-nurse # 
 to all the younger branches, when they were 
 uproarious, from the age of five years down¬ 
 wards. I do not pretend to be able to 
 
 * There is a passage in Plutarch’s Life which seems 
 to show, that amongst the ancient Greeks children were 
 suckled to later periods than amongst us. Speaking of 
 a daughter of his, called Timoxena, who died young, the 
 author says,—“ When she was very young, she would/re- 
 quently beg of her nurse to give the breast not only to 
 the other children, but to her babies and dolls, which 
 she considered as her dependents and under her pro¬ 
 tection.’’ Plutarch's Life . 
 
336 
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 explain this phenomenon, but the fact is 
 certain. 
 
 The eldest sister wore her long black 
 hair down the back, interlaced with strings 
 of pieces of silver. In addition to this and a 
 long necklace, she had a silver band round 
 her throat, which she allowed Mr. Newton 
 to take off and examine, in gratitude for 
 some little coins presented to the little 
 squaller in her lap; it was curious and 
 not inelegant. A very handsome zone of 
 plates of embossed silver, overlapping each 
 other, confined her waist. This was the 
 only pretty Greek girl of the lower orders 
 that it was our fortune to meet; they were 
 generally, in our estimation, very plain, 
 and seem to have resigned their share of 
 beauty to the men, who are, I think I 
 may say, the handsomest race I have 
 ever seen :—their beauty is not of the 
 countenance alone, but likewise of the 
 figure, which exhibits proportions such as 
 we admire in the works of their ancient 
 
BEAU IDEAL. 
 
 337 
 
 statuaries, and is endowed with the greatest 
 suppleness and agility. It would really be 
 almost as difficult to find a plain man as 
 a pretty woman. There are many savage 
 countenances, but still, in the ferocious ex¬ 
 pression may be traced the beauty of the 
 fallen angel. Indeed, we saw reason to 
 believe that the alleged beau ideal of Gre¬ 
 cian sculpture was, after all, only a nearer 
 approach to beautiful nature: amongst the 
 moderns I suspect that ideality is often a 
 mere excuse on the part of those who can¬ 
 not attain the accuracy of reality. 
 
338 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PHIGALEIA.—COLUMNS OF BASSA3,—ANDRITZENA.— 
 OLYMPIA.—PYRGO.—EMBARK ATI ON. 
 
 [19th, 20th, 21st, and 22nd February.] 
 
 At Tragoge we were placed between two 
 objects of curiosity, which it was our in¬ 
 tention to visit the same day, and take up 
 our quarters at Andritzena at night. These 
 were the ruins of Phigaleia and the temple 
 of Apollo Epicurios, at Bassse. Sending, 
 therefore, the baggage and servants by 
 the direct route to Andritzena, we made 
 the best of our way to Phigaleia, which 
 is about an hour distant from Tragoge. 
 On approaching, the walls look like those 
 of Messene; but on nearer inspection 
 they are seen to be very rude, and built of 
 
PHIGALEIA. 
 
 339 
 
 smaller stones ; nor are there any square 
 towers as at the former place. Here, 
 also, we found traces of the early style of 
 Messenian warfare and defence, for it is 
 evident that the walls were much more 
 than sufficient to surround an Arcadian 
 town, being nearly as extensive as those of 
 Messene, and well able to shelter the 
 neighbouring peasants with their flocks 
 and herds. There is a small postern in 
 the wall, the arch of which is formed by 
 each successive layer of stones project¬ 
 ing beyond that beneath it, so that the 
 upper layers of the two sides meet at the 
 top. This style of building has been ad¬ 
 vanced by some as a proof of the antiquity 
 of the place, it being urged that it must 
 have been built before a spheric arch was 
 known in Greece: but the argument will 
 hardly hold good, as it is very likely that 
 the use of the key-stone may have beeti 
 practised in more civilised parts before it 
 
 q 2 
 
340 
 
 BASSyE. 
 
 was employed in tlie rude hamlets of Ar¬ 
 cadia. It was evident, from the whole ap¬ 
 pearance of the defences, that these walls 
 were merely intended to resist plundering 
 parties, and did not require the niceties 
 and elegancies of architecture. I doubt, 
 indeed, whether, even at the present day, 
 skill sufficient for turning an arch could he 
 found among the natives of Arcady. 
 
 From Phigaleia we again returned to 
 Tragoge, and ascended to the region of 
 snow, in search of the fane of Apollo the 
 Healer (’E wixovpios), commonly called, in 
 Europe, the temple of Phigaleia, but here 
 known by the name of the Columns of 
 Bassse. The snow-drifts were in some 
 places very deep, and in general up to the 
 horses” girths. The guide preceded with 
 a long pole, sounding, and every now and 
 then disappeared by a false step. We at 
 last reached the eminence on which it 
 stands, one of the highest points in the 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
TEMPLE OF APOLLO. 
 
 341 
 
 Morea. The remains are very perfect 
 three pillars alone of the outer range want¬ 
 ing : the foundations of the antce or pilas¬ 
 ters of the interior still exist, as does the 
 pavement. The temple is, perhaps, judg¬ 
 ing from other examples, rather too long 
 for its width, there being two pillars on 
 each side more than in the Theseion, which 
 is almost perfection in its proportions. The 
 material is a kind of limestone, hard, and 
 almost marble. The situation is striking: 
 on a lofty point, in a kind of forest glade 
 surrounded with fine oaks, and command¬ 
 ing views of the hays of Modon and Arca¬ 
 dia, and Mount Ithome. 
 
 The frieze of this temple (which was 
 discovered by some English and German 
 travellers in 1812) is now in the British 
 M useum, and, considering its age and the 
 extremes of temperature to which it must 
 have been exposed, Ave can only admire its 
 state of preservation. Mr. Newton’s draw¬ 
 ing of this snow-clad scene will explain it 
 
342 
 
 ANDRITZENA. 
 
 better than any description of mine, and, 
 presenting, as it does, the combination of 
 the magnificent object of art—the forest 
 scenery—the alpine elevation, and the dis¬ 
 tant panorama, it is one of the most strik¬ 
 ing any of us had ever seen. 
 
 In four hours from our second departure 
 from Tragoge we arrived at Andritzena: 
 it was just above this town that we caught 
 a glimpse of the sea, with the island of 
 Zante, and that our guides favoured us 
 with the distich already cited,—“ Zante , 
 Zante , Fior de Lev ante.” 
 
 This is the largest town we have seen 
 since leaving Napoli, and we were lodged 
 in comparatively a princely style, having 
 one room to ourselves, of which we took 
 advantage in cleansing our persons and 
 changing our dresses. Several of the 
 young Palikari visited us, and entered into 
 conversation, talking Italian. One did not 
 at all approve of the present mode of 
 government, and seemed to regret that 
 
PALIKARI, 
 
 343 
 
 they could no longer sally forth, and levy 
 contributions on the road. He said that 
 formerly one man had more silver in the 
 handle of his sword than could now be 
 found in the purses of twenty. Another of 
 these youths was very anxious and pressing 
 that we should take him with us to Eng¬ 
 land; but the prospect of such a responsi¬ 
 bility was not agreeable, more particularly 
 as he might have shared some of his compa¬ 
 nions’ peculiar doctrines about the rights 
 of property. I have no doubt but that they 
 were worthy followers of their chieftain 
 Colocotroni, whose chief stronghold is at 
 Karitena, about ten miles distant, for they 
 seemed well acquainted with that hero (I 
 suppose he must be so called), and on 
 seeing the sketch of him, taken by Mr. 
 Newton in the ball-room at Athens (see 
 p. 188), they repeated his name without 
 hesitation. 
 
 We learned from our visitors that it 
 would not be possible, from the flooded 
 
344 
 
 THE ALPHEUS. 
 
 state of the river, to cross the Alpheus at 
 Palaio Phanaro, as we had intended, with 
 a view of visiting the ruins of Olympia, 
 which lie on the right bank of the river, 
 and almost directly in the straight road to 
 Pyrgo; and we were told that we must go 
 down to Agolonitza, near the mouth of the 
 river, where a ferry-boat plied between the 
 two banks. This was much out of the 
 way, and, at first sight, very vexatious, as 
 we had an ardent desire to tread “ pul- 
 verem Olympicum ; ”—but there was no 
 remedy; nor did we finally think it any 
 great hardship, when we learned that, 
 after all, it would not be impossible, fol¬ 
 lowing our usual plan of sending forward 
 the baggage, to visit the vale of Olympia, 
 in the day between Agolonitza and Pyrgo, 
 it being but a few miles up the right bank 
 of the stream. 
 
 We had another dreadful morning for 
 travelling, but the fear of being too late at 
 Zante for the English packet forced us 
 
MOUNTAIN-PASS. 
 
 345 
 
 forward; and though we set out in tor¬ 
 rents of rain, the day soon changed, and 
 we were rewarded for our perseverance. 
 
 We met the postman (raxv$pomelos) this 
 day, carrying the letters for the interior. 
 He was on foot, and travelling at a sort 
 of trot, keeping up a good five or six miles 
 an hour. 
 
 Half-way from Andritzena we observed 
 walls similar to those of Phigaleia, and, 
 no doubt, similarly designed ; they were 
 near a mountain-pass, but too distant for 
 us to visit them. Not far from this pass, 
 which was not more than five yards wide, 
 and cut through the rock, we came upon 
 a desperate-looking fellow, whose appear¬ 
 ance made us dread the proximity of more 
 of his class: he was surveying the valley 
 below, and as we wound down in single 
 file, along the narrow path, he gave what 
 we supposed to be a signal to some accom¬ 
 plices beneath. We were in a situation 
 in which retreat would have been impos¬ 
 es 3 
 
346 
 
 THE SEA. 
 
 sible, while our friend above was guarding 
 the path with his long gun. The danger 
 was, perhaps, imaginary : however, half an 
 hour after we met a party of police in pur¬ 
 suit of an offender, who was in all pro¬ 
 bability the gentleman we had seen. 
 
 The country we passed through this day 
 reminded us of some districts of the hilly 
 counties of England; but it every now 
 and then became wilder. In several places 
 the sandstone hillocks took the appearances 
 of castles and buildings ; nor was the illu¬ 
 sion destroyed until we got close to them. 
 
 Leaving a village on our right, we turned 
 into a wood, an hour’s ride through which 
 brought us to the sea-shore. We had no 
 conception that w 7 e w 7 ere so near to it, and 
 had been puzzling our brains to find out 
 what the roar of the breakers could be, 
 which we had heard at the distance of three 
 or four miles. On the shore itself the noise 
 was deafening, the w T aves — (rtoXvQXolcfioio 
 QaXdaws )—rolling and breaking magnifi- 
 
AGOLONITZA. 
 
 347 
 
 cently upon a reef of rocks that run across 
 the hay, about half a mile from the land. 
 
 Two hours along the sands brought us to 
 the village of Agolonitza, which presented 
 many evidences of prosperity and trade; 
 and having secured a room over a shop or 
 store-house, a milder climate and a good 
 fire enabled us to pass a comfortable night. 
 This village is about a mile from the Al- 
 pheus, which we crossed the next morning by 
 a ferry-boat, and then turning to the right, 
 after about two hours reached Olympia; 
 but, alas ! of this scene of sacred triumphs, 
 our first glance could hardly discover a 
 vestige. The site of Olympia is on a flat 
 low plain, about half a mile from the river, 
 and the ruins are below the surface of the 
 ground. It is possible that occasional 
 floods may have contributed to the over¬ 
 throw of the edifices, and there seems little 
 reason to doubt, that the story of Hercules 
 turning the river through the stables of 
 Augseus was founded on its liability to 
 
348 
 
 OLYMPIA. 
 
 sudden inundation. The ruins have been 
 but partially excavated; indeed, only for 
 the profane purpose of obtaining stone, as 
 in England we open a quarry. 
 
 We were not able to trace the Stadium, 
 and could do little more than guess at the 
 temple of Jupiter, in which once stood the 
 celebrated statue, fifty cubits high, one of 
 the seven wonders of the Avorld, and a won¬ 
 der indeed it was, if it was anything like 
 that height, and formed, as Pausanias 
 says, of ivory and gold. As to the height 
 of the statue, he evades giving any opinion 
 —“ I know,” says the cautious topogra¬ 
 pher, “ that some have given the admea¬ 
 surements of the statue, but I cannot much 
 applaud their measures, because their 
 dimensions are easily refuted by the eyes of 
 any one who sees the statue/’ El. c. n. 
 He seems to mean that the measures were 
 too small, but he does not say what they 
 were. We observed, however, one slight 
 fact, which shows the accuracy of Pau- 
 
TEMPLE OF JUPITER. 
 
 349 
 
 sanias on subjects where superstition or 
 political prudence did not intervene. He 
 says the temple was built with a stone 
 of the country, but the roof was covered 
 with tiles of Pentelic marble. Now we 
 found the fragments of the columns to |be 
 composed, not of marble, but of a shelly, 
 crumbling sandstone, while fragments of 
 black and white marble of different shapes, 
 which originally formed the pavement, or, 
 perhaps, the marble tiles of the roof, were 
 also strewed about, as well as large quan¬ 
 tities of small pebbles of various colours, 
 which appear to have composed the Mosaic 
 work of the floor. Some Roman brick¬ 
 work is also standing near, to which we 
 were attracted by the scent of violets, with 
 which it was overgrown. 
 
 Such was our short and—as far as ma¬ 
 terial objects were concerned-—unsatisfac¬ 
 tory visit to Olympia ;—the state of the 
 weather, and the near expiration of our 
 
350 
 
 ERROR OF D’ANVILLE. 
 
 allotted time, forbad us a more prolonged 
 examination ; but it is to be hoped, as this 
 interesting spot, so rich (it may be pre¬ 
 sumed) in buried antiquities, is little more 
 than one day’s distance from the British 
 garrison of Zante, that some English travel¬ 
 lers, with more leisure, learning, and means, 
 may be induced to explore the whole re¬ 
 gion, which, besides Olympia, includes Pisa 
 and Elis, and numberless other places, of 
 which notices are scattered through the 
 ancients. Little as we saw, we were still 
 proud of our exploit in having seen it at 
 all; and having thus reached the goal and 
 termination of our Grecian expedition, we 
 crowned ourselves with the wild olive as 
 victors on the Olympic plain. 
 
 I must here observe that D’Anville, a 
 geographer of great authority, in his Gre- 
 ties Antiques Specimen GeograpJiicum, 
 places Olympia on the left or south bank 
 of the river, and Pisa on the opposite side ; 
 
HOSPITALITY. 
 
 351 
 
 now, in fact, Olympia is situated on the 
 right hank, and Pisa was, probably, at no 
 great distance from it—on the same side. 
 
 We now prepared to make our last 
 journey in Greece to the neighbouring 
 port of Pyrgo, at which we were to em¬ 
 bark ; but before we departed, a Greek 
 gentleman came up, who pressed us to go 
 to his house and take some refreshment; 
 we were reluctantly obliged to refuse, but 
 we ventured some questions to discover why 
 he went so much out of his way to show hos¬ 
 pitality to strangers, no instance of which 
 had hitherto offered itself to us;—it was 
 because we were English. He had been 
 one of the party, I know not in what capa¬ 
 city, sent to Munich to attend upon the 
 king, when he came to assume the crown of 
 Greece, and he was anxious to express to 
 us his thanks for the attention and kindness 
 he had experienced on board the English 
 frigate, on his voyage from Ancona, or 
 wherever they had re-embarked on their re- 
 
352 
 
 PYRGO. 
 
 turn. We should gladly have availed our¬ 
 selves of this gentleman’s hospitality, if we 
 had had time, not merely for the purpose 
 of extending our observations on Greece, 
 but because the proposition itself appeared 
 to be made in a spirit, to which we felt it a 
 kind of duty to respond. I do not suppose 
 he could have had any other motive than 
 that which he expressed for his civilities 
 to three nameless travellers. 
 
 Taking leave of him with all due ac¬ 
 knowledgments, we cantered back through 
 the valley of the Alplieus, and in two 
 hours—having stopped for a few minutes 
 to watch the sports of a party of peasants, 
 who were dancing to the music of what 
 nearly resembled a Scotch bagpipe—we 
 reached Pyrgo. 
 
 This little town exhibited more appear¬ 
 ance of activity and industry, though in 
 a small way, than any we had hitherto 
 visited in his Hellenic Majesty’s dominions. 
 The different sheds or stalls, ranged along 
 
CARNIVAL. 
 
 353 
 
 one side of the main street, of the ven¬ 
 dors of sardines, caviare, and olives, with 
 all other lawful eatables of Lent, were 
 thronged and busy, while the rival trades¬ 
 men w r ere shouting out lustily, each in 
 praise of his own goods; and as the win¬ 
 dows of our apartment overlooked the 
 scene, we were not a little amused at the 
 different manoeuvres of the tradesmen and 
 their customers. Nor was trade brisk in this 
 spot only, for the road which we afterwards 
 traversed, between the town and the port, 
 was crowded with long trains of drome¬ 
 daries, horses, and mules, laden with pig¬ 
 skins filled with wine, for exportation to 
 the other provinces, for as I have before 
 hinted, in Greece alone would Grecian wine 
 be drunk. 
 
 This was an evening of great festivity 
 and gaiety, being the last of the carnival— 
 in our phrase, Shrove Tuesday—the day 
 before the more severe observance of Lent. 
 From our window in the evening we had 
 
354 
 
 CARNIVAL. 
 
 a view of a procession of masques on horse¬ 
 back, by torchlight, representing the arri¬ 
 val of King Otho in Greece ; his majesty 
 being represented by a boy, ornamented 
 with a tinfoil crown. If these amuse¬ 
 ments had ended here, we should have been 
 very well satisfied ; but, alas ! the revellers 
 of Pyrgo kept up their noisy games till 
 daylight. This was particularly unplea¬ 
 sant to wearied travellers, more especially 
 as our room was immediately over the cafe , 
 from which every sound rose to our ears 
 as distinctly as if we were in the same 
 room. The destruction of the bottles and 
 drinking cups seemed part of the fun, for 
 the smashing of crockery and glass was 
 constant. Under other circumstances than 
 those of extreme fatigue, sleep would have 
 been impossible ; but as it was, we slept, 
 or rather dosed, through the infernal din 
 raging beneath, and consoled ourselves next 
 day by the scurvy pun, of having passed a 
 night in Purgatory. 
 
SEPARATION. 
 
 355 
 
 Next morning, according to our wishes, 
 the master of a Greek boat was introduced 
 to us; unfortunately, his was the only boat 
 in the harbour, and as he knew that we 
 must be at Zante by a certain day, he mo¬ 
 destly demanded twenty-five dollars for 
 our conveyance thither, which we refused 
 to give, knowing that eight would be an 
 ample payment for such a service. But we 
 were in his power, and the discussion ended 
 by our agreeing to give twenty dollars. 
 
 Here we parted with great regret from 
 Mr. Johnstone, whose experience, variety 
 of information, and amiable manners, were 
 of the greatest advantage and pleasure to 
 his less practised companions. He con¬ 
 tinued (as I shall have occasion to mention 
 more particularly in the next chapter) his 
 journey to Patras, and thence to Athens 
 again. Here also we dismissed the guides 
 and horses we had brought from Napoli, 
 hiring others to convey us to Katacolo, the 
 
356 
 
 GUIDES. 
 
 sea-port at lvliich we were to embark, about 
 five miles distant. 
 
 Our guides had conducted themselves 
 very well, and done every tiling in their 
 power for our accommodation during the 
 journey, excepting our difference on the 
 second day, about the buona locanda, and 
 the horses had carried us and our baggage 
 without difficulty or accident; so that I am 
 bound to recommend the plan of hiring 
 horses for the whole journey, which not 
 only prevents delay and difficulty, other¬ 
 wise unavoidable, in procuring them at the 
 smaller villages, but makes you better ac¬ 
 quainted with your guides, and renders 
 them more ready to serve you, by their be¬ 
 ing dependent upon their good behaviour 
 for the larger buona mano at the close of 
 the journey, as well as for the trifling 
 largess bestowed now and then after a 
 long or difficult day’s march. This plan 
 has, however, one disadvantage—no incon- 
 
KATAKOLO. 
 
 357 
 
 siderable one in a country so little known 
 as the interior of Greece. The guides thus 
 hired, are not so well acquainted with the 
 names and other details of the country, as 
 local guides would be. This inconvenience, 
 as my readers must have perceived, we had 
 frequently felt. 
 
 At Katacolo, the sea-port I have men¬ 
 tioned, which consists of a custom-house and 
 three or four habitations, we were annoyed 
 at having to unpack our portmanteaus, and 
 submit their contents to the inspection of 
 custom-house officers, though they could 
 not, on our inquiry, tell us what possible 
 article it was illegal for us to convey from 
 the country. Curiosity on the part of the 
 officials was, in all probability, the cause 
 of this proceeding, which, though a trifle, 
 was nevertheless vexatious, as it seemed to 
 be without meaning or object. 
 
 While waiting for our padrone, and 
 strolling about, a beautiful cream-coloured 
 greyhound, with the long ears and fea- 
 
358 
 
 PASSAGE TO ZANTE. 
 
 tliered legs of the spaniel, caught my eye 
 and fancy. I tried to buy it, but the owner 
 would not part with it for any money ; it 
 was completely clothed with a piece of 
 cloth, fitted and fastened to its body, which 
 is the practice pretty generally with dogs 
 of this delicate breed in the other parts of 
 Greece which we had visited : this seems 
 some proof, that even ordinary winters in 
 Greece are colder than is generally sup¬ 
 posed. 
 
 It was past mid-day before we were off; 
 and the wind foul, with a chopping sea ; but 
 stretching ourselves on the gravel in the 
 hold of our bark, as was our wont, we fell 
 asleep ; nor did we awake until six o’clock 
 the following morning—a pretty sound nap. 
 Perhaps nothing will afford my readers a 
 better estimate of the want of rest, under 
 which we had previously suffered, than 
 these sixteen hours of unbroken sleep, in the 
 hold of a fishing boat, in a very rough sea. 
 
359 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MR. JOHNSTONE’S TOUR.—ATHENS.—THEBES.— 
 MARATHON. 
 
 [22ND FEBRUARY TO 7TH OF MARCH.] 
 
 I have already mentioned, that with a 
 better arrangement of our proceedings we 
 might have visited Thebes and Marathon, 
 and completed the circuit of the Morea. 
 As this little work is chiefly intended as a 
 guide—however imperfect it may be—to 
 other travellers, I am happy to be able to 
 make up for the deficiency in my own tour 
 by the narrative of our friend Mr. John¬ 
 stone, who, after parting from us at Pyrgo, 
 continued his journey round the Morea to 
 Patras, and, returning to Athens, subse¬ 
 quently visited Thebes and Marathon. He 
 
360 
 
 THE PENEUS. 
 
 lias been so good as to furnish me with the 
 following memorandum of his tour, and I 
 am sure my readers will regret that he has 
 not had a greater share in these pages. 
 
 “ I left Pyrgo nearly an hour and a half 
 after your departure ; rather too late in the 
 day, as you will soon perceive. After 
 emerging from the town, I got one or two 
 glimpses of your party crossing the plain 
 towards the sea on my left; my own direc¬ 
 tion traversed the fine pastoral plain of 
 Eleia in a northerly direction, inclining 
 slightly to the east. Our first proposed 
 halting-place was Dervishe Tchelebi, a 
 small village near the banks of the Peneus, 
 which classic stream we had some diffi¬ 
 culty in crossing, and were indeed forced 
 to make a considerable detour to find a 
 practicable ford. It was scarce past three 
 o’clock when we reached that village ; and, 
 as I understood that another village oc¬ 
 curred at a distance of two hours further, 
 
ELEIA. 
 
 361 
 
 I refused to halt, and ordered the advance. 
 Throughout the afternoon the line of the 
 Eleian hills hounded us on the right at the 
 distance of about four miles, and on one 
 crest I examined the remains of a palaio 
 castro, occupying nearly the site of ancient 
 Elis. In advance, on our left, the for¬ 
 tress of Clarenza * picturesquely crowned a 
 height, and the ‘ beautiful ’ island of Zante 
 closed the view. On reaching our second 
 village, which consisted of a few detached 
 shepherds’ cottages, we found that neither 
 food nor shelter was to be obtained for our 
 horses; we were therefore obliged to pro¬ 
 ceed with the hope of finding Jess scanty 
 accommodations at Ali Tchelebi, a village 
 three hours in advance. We now left the 
 plain of Elis, and turning our backs upon 
 Zante, and the sun setting in the Adriatic, 
 we advanced nearly due east across the 
 
 * The titles of our Dukes of Clarence : that borne by 
 his present Majesty before he became king is said to be 
 derived from this castle. 
 
 R 
 
362 
 
 FORD. 
 
 slope of a line of hills: darkness soon came 
 on, and hid from us our road. We ex¬ 
 pended our three hours, and two more to 
 boot, and the welcome sound of a village 
 never greeted us: Ave at last found our¬ 
 selves on the banks of a brook much swol¬ 
 len, not known to our surogees *, and all 
 trace of a road vanished. The surogees 
 made the usual lively demonstrations of 
 vexation and dismay, so marked among 
 their countrymen. After some delay in 
 trying back, trying forward, and trying on 
 either side, the steadiest of the horses was 
 pushed into the brook to try the ford; he 
 soon plunged, lost his footing, began to 
 swim, and was recalled; after a pause of 
 perplexity, one of the surogees was next 
 turned into the water; he, after a good 
 deal of floundering, made out a ford, and 
 we crossed over, but far from dry-shod. 
 On the further bank we were saluted by 
 the welcome baying of a sheep-dog. I 
 
 * Mr. Johnstone uses the Levant term for a guide. 
 
CAFINET. 
 
 363 
 
 got my men, not without difficulty, to trace 
 up to him, when we obtained his master as 
 a guide, and having passed through a plain 
 of fine herbage, dotted like an English 
 park with large scattered oak, we were 
 safely conducted, at eleven, p. m., to the 
 door of the most miserable of all the miser¬ 
 able cafinets to which ill-luck had as yet 
 led me. The room was already crowded, 
 and with a most beggarly assemblage ; the 
 fire, which occupied the centre of the room, 
 was completely surrounded ; but the good¬ 
 nature of the company immediately made 
 room for myself and servant. A repast of 
 black bread, eggs, and the never-failing 
 tea, with a complimentary string of very 
 dirty dwarfish figs, from the cafetiere , had 
 an excellent relish after such a march ; and 
 then rolling myself round in my cloak, I 
 soon fell asleep, in fearless fellowship with 
 the motley company. The next day, an 
 easy march, through an enchanting country, 
 brought me to Patras. The earlier part 
 
364 
 
 PATRAS. 
 
 of this route was through a pastured forest 
 of oak, which reminded me of the New 
 Forest, in Hampshire, with the fine ad¬ 
 dition of the noble mountains in the distance 
 behind Patras, and the snowy summits of 
 Parnassus and Helicon far away to tlie 
 north and east: the latter part of the march 
 ran along the beach of Lepanto, and afforded 
 views of the mountain island of Cephalo- 
 nia, and the low coast of Missolonghi, now 
 become classic by the residence and death 
 of Byron. 
 
 “ The steam-boat had sailed from Patras, 
 and I learned by a note, which Mr. Anger- 
 stein had had the goodness to write to me 
 from Malta, that my travelling gear had 
 been sent on to Smyrna; I therefore re¬ 
 mained but one day at Patras, and then 
 took a mystico up the gulf: the winds were 
 light, so that I consumed about forty-three 
 hours in reaching Lutrarchi, which is, as 
 you know, the landing-port and police- 
 station of Corinth. Thence I proceeded, 
 
KALAMACHI. 
 
 365 
 
 as formerly, across the Corinthian isthmus, 
 my luggage on ponies, myself walking, 
 to the pretty little port of Kalamachi. 
 There I was immediately acknowledged 
 by all the inmates of the ccifinet —our 
 former abode—and particularly by the com¬ 
 mander of the caique, which had carried 
 us, on our former trip, across to the Piraeus. 
 He offered his services for the same remu¬ 
 neration, and I closed with his offer. Again 
 I supped in the same elevated tribune, 
 which we had filled with so much mirth 
 when here before, and again I embarked 
 on the Saronic gulf an hour before mid¬ 
 night. The sea was calm and the wind 
 asleep : we rowed all night, and made little 
 progress :—the next day we had unsteady 
 and varying winds : we took the outside of 
 Salamis, instead of threading, a second 
 time, between the island and the main, 
 over the scene of Themistocles’ victory, 
 and we entered the port of Pireeus after 
 gun-fire, too late to be permitted to land. 
 
366 
 
 GREEK SALUTE. 
 
 I found, however, a welcome, and excellent 
 quarters on hoard the Medea, as the guest 
 of our hospitable friend, Captain Austen. 
 A proof of the extreme nonchalance of the 
 Greek soldiery occurred to me on the Gulf 
 ofLepanto, which, without the excitement 
 of any romance, nearly had tragic conse¬ 
 quences. As I sailed up the gulf, large 
 bodies of troops were marching irregularly 
 down its shores, hurrying to quell dis¬ 
 turbances at Missolonghi, where sundry 
 Capitans had risen against the government 
 and assaulted the town. These troops were 
 proceeding with merry hearts towards their 
 work; some were straining their voices in 
 solos, others w r ere chanting in chorus, and 
 others again were testifying their good 
 spirits by discharging their firelocks; these 
 last despised the use of blank cartridge, 
 but fired towards the sea. I had rowed 
 near the shore to enjoy the warlike sight, 
 when a bullet whistled over my head, so 
 near, that the air ruffled my cap, whilst a 
 
TOUR IN BCEOTIA. 
 
 367 
 
 second crossed over my boatman’s oar. We 
 looked at one another; speaking was un¬ 
 necessary, and we speedily retrograded 
 from the beach. I remember to have heard 
 that some Greek troops received Lord Byron 
 with a salute of loaded muskets, but I be¬ 
 lieve these fellows really meant to try their 
 skill as marksmen upon me. I enjoyed 
 greatly two days of rest on board the 
 Medea, in itself, perhaps, a sight as curi¬ 
 ous as any to be seen in Greece; one of 
 the noblest steam-boats in the world, and, 
 at that time, fitted up with great taste as 
 the yacht of the King of Bavaria. 
 
 “The Smyrna steam-boat, * the Levant * 
 not having yet arrived in the Piraeus, I de¬ 
 termined upon a run into Boeotia. The kind 
 Signor Vitali made arrangements for me, 
 and about mid-day of the 1st of March I 
 left Athens with four horses—my own, 
 Gilbert’s # , one luggage-horse, and one for 
 our guide. We crossed the plain of Athens 
 
 * Mr. Johnstone’s Egyptian servant. 
 
368 
 
 ELEUSIS. 
 
 to the west, threaded a very narrow gorge 
 between the hills of Cory dal, which serves 
 as the gate of Attica, and must have been 
 formerly fortified * ; and we debouched into 
 the yet rich, though only partially culti¬ 
 vated plain of Eleusis. Eleusis is now a 
 miserable village, and any trace that may 
 yet exist of its ancient temple is mere 
 foundation, and that irregular and faint;— 
 at the south-western extremity of the plain 
 are considerable remains of a large aque¬ 
 duct, which led down to Megara. I can 
 well understand the extent pf the annoy¬ 
 ance felt by the Athenians when, during 
 the Peloponnesian war, the Spartan horse 
 possessed themselves of this plain, both on 
 account of the loss of the supplies it fur¬ 
 nished, and on account of its uncomfort¬ 
 able vicinity, Eleusis itself being scarce 
 a two hours’ ride from Athens. Leaving 
 
 * Midway in this gorge are the picturesque ruins of a 
 large Greek convent—one of the thousand monuments 
 of the late destructive strife between Greek and Turk. 
 
ELEUTHERiE. 
 
 369 
 
 the plain, We entered a pass amongst the 
 mountains, beautifully clothed with dark 
 pine, and with a variety of tall evergreen 
 shrubs, amongst which the ilex and acorn¬ 
 hearing holly predominated : the timber in 
 this glen is the finest that I have anyw r here 
 seen in Greece; but a large portion of the 
 pines are miserably hacked and injured, for 
 the distasteful purpose of drugging the 
 otherwise palateable wine of Greece with 
 rosin. We traced this glen nearly to its 
 head, and then crossed over to the right 
 into the quiet valley of Eleutheree. 
 
 “ In this valley are tw r o ruins, of consider¬ 
 able magnitude, and of the best date of 
 masonry ; but of their history, or their pur¬ 
 pose, I could learn nothing: one of them 
 had something of the air of a chateau. We 
 halted for the night at a miserable cafinet 
 —Kazea—below the remains of the citadel 
 of Eleutheree. This citadel is admirably 
 placed on the crown of an isolated hill; its 
 exterior defences, w T alls and towers, remain 
 
 R 3 
 
370 
 
 ELEUTHERiE. 
 
 almost entire; they are of the best Grecian 
 architecture, and, after Messene, are cer¬ 
 tainly by much the finest specimen of mili¬ 
 tary masonry that I have visited. It was 
 by mistake that I came to Eleutherae, for I 
 had purposed following the road by Phyle, 
 a fortress, I am told, well worth seeing, 
 and famous for the exploit of Thrasybulus ; 
 but my guide was an incorrect antiquarian, 
 and little knew the distinction or respective 
 merits of the two 9 raXaui kaarpi. So well, 
 however, did the citadel of Eleutlierae an¬ 
 swer to the descriptions and plans of Phyle, 
 that I did not discover the error till I re¬ 
 turned to Athens. The north-western 
 wall, with its square towers, distant about 
 sixty yards from each other, are more par¬ 
 ticularly entire. Within the area of the 
 walls are several foundations of buildings. 
 A party of irregular soldiers, under a non¬ 
 commissioned officer, divided the cafinet 
 with me: they were a merry-hearted group, 
 and were sufficiently lively during the even- 
 
PLATiEA. 
 
 371 
 
 in<£: some of them had collected ancient 
 coins of the Lower Empire, and other little 
 antiques, some of which I purchased: those 
 whose collections were refused suffered a 
 good deal of quizzing from their compa¬ 
 nions. The following morning I a second 
 time circumambulated the walls of Eleu- 
 therae, and then followed my little caravan 
 amongst the sliruh-clad hills, along the 
 path towards Boeotia. My companions of 
 the preceding evening, who were on their 
 march to Thermopylae to disperse some 
 predatory bands in that neighbourhood, 
 acted as beaters amongst the shrubs, and 
 obtained me some tolerable shooting. 
 
 “ We crossed a narrow shoulder of 
 Mount Cithaeron, and descended immedi¬ 
 ately upon the capital of the gallant little 
 republic Plataea—which, perhaps beyond 
 all the numerous states of Greece, was the 
 one most distinguished for constancy in its 
 friendships, for the fulfilment of its en¬ 
 gagements, and for its unflinching gal- 
 
372 
 
 PLAT^A. 
 
 lantry in war. At Marathon, at Leuctra, 
 and in the celebrated fight under its own 
 walls, its troops established their immortal 
 renown against the Persians ; while its con¬ 
 stancy to fickle Athens, and defiance of its 
 nearer neighbour Thebes was very noble. 
 The site of Platsea is now untenanted; 
 the walls may yet be traced in all their cir¬ 
 cuit, and a portion of the north-west wall 
 continues in tolerable preservation. The 
 masonry of this is excellent, and probably 
 is of the date of Alexander the Great, who 
 rebuilt the walls, and re-established the 
 city subsequent to its destruction by the 
 Thebans. Within its area are a few traces 
 of foundations, and several broken columns 
 of inferior dimensions and spurious archi¬ 
 tecture : there is no remnant of anything 
 grand. On a declivity looking to the west¬ 
 ward are several tombs and sarcophagi, 
 but none of much beauty. The position 
 of Plateea is on one of the lowest slopes 
 of Cithceron, as it sinks into the fine plain 
 
THEBES. 
 
 373 
 
 of Boeotia ; it faces to the west and north¬ 
 west, looking towards Parnassus, and re¬ 
 ceiving the reflection from its snows. It 
 commands a good view over the whole of 
 Boeotia, and every manoeuvre in the battle 
 of Leuctra must have been clearly seen by 
 its anxious inhabitants *. A drenching 
 storm came on whilst I sat amongst the 
 ruins of Plateea, and admonished me of the 
 necessity of proceeding quickly to my rest¬ 
 ing-place : we pushed, with ali the speed 
 we could command, across the plain to 
 Thebes, where we arrived, so thoroughly 
 wet, that the afternoon of the day was oc¬ 
 cupied in attempts to dry ourselves and our 
 night coverlids. 
 
 “The following morning I made my ex¬ 
 amination of the city of Epaminondas. 
 Strangely as have vanished from all the 
 cities of ancient Greece, Athens excepted, 
 the monuments and evidences of their 
 
 * The modern name for Platsea is Kuklos,or the Place 
 of Blood. 
 
374 
 
 BCEOTIA. 
 
 former magnificence and civilization, from 
 no one have they so completely disappeared 
 as from Thebes, Corinth has its heavy 
 Doric temple ; Argos its theatre ; Sparta 
 the presumed tomb of Leonidas; Messene 
 its splendid walls and towers ; Delphi its 
 excavated tombs and the foundations of its 
 temples ; but Thebes has nothing . A few 
 scattered and disjointed columns of rare 
 marbles testify that a city of wealth had 
 once existed here; but there is no form or 
 feature of an edifice of older date than a 
 large uninteresting Turkish tower of patch- 
 work masonry, reared, where probably 
 once stood the Cadmean citadel, or than a 
 ruined Christian church, which had evi¬ 
 dently robbed chaster buildings of their 
 ornaments. I was much disappointed that 
 I could attach so little of antiquity to the 
 modern site of Thebes ; for Epaminondas 
 had been with me a favourite hero, and I 
 had interested myself in the fame that he 
 had so rapidly raised for his state. 
 
BCEOTIA. 
 
 375 
 
 “ I recrossed the Boeotian Plain, rich in 
 soil, and offering golden returns to the 
 agriculturist, hut now depopulated and un¬ 
 cultivated. For miles around Thebes no 
 village greets the eye, and Thebes itself 
 would make but a poverty-stricken village 
 in our own wealthy land ; it may parallel 
 Corinth in its present state ;—it is less ex¬ 
 tensive than Argos. Unsparingly must 
 Athens, Macedon, with other rivals, have 
 exacted retribution for its short-lived glo¬ 
 ries. Whilst repeopling in memory this 
 beautiful plain, and remembering its glo¬ 
 ries, I could not but smile at the extrava¬ 
 gant and too easily credited bombast of the 
 Greek authors, who would make great 
 powers of such petty places. The terri¬ 
 tory of Thebes, once the terror of all 
 Greece, comprised but a very few square 
 miles. Plateea, its neighbour and rival, was 
 not nine miles distant from its gates—two 
 hours’ ride. Fancy Warwick and Coventry 
 different republics; completely different 
 
376 
 
 ROAD TO MARATHON. 
 
 states, with each its own legislators, sena¬ 
 tors, and warriors. Fancy the great Guy 
 —the Epaminandas of Warwick—going 
 forth with his host in unavailing conflict 
 with the legions of Coventry. Such, re¬ 
 duced to their true topographical dimen¬ 
 sions, were the powers and the wars of the 
 Greeks, though the numbers of men which 
 we read of in some of their battles is very 
 considerable; indeed, almost incredible, 
 when we look at the spaces which are said 
 to have produced them. 
 
 “ I slept again below Eleutlierse, at the 
 Cafe of Kazea, and returned, anxious about 
 the Smyrna steam-boat, to the capital of 
 Attica. The steam-boat had not arrived 
 at the Pirseus ; I therefore determined 
 upon another short expedition to Marathon. 
 I engaged my horses, and left Athens on 
 the forenoon of the 5th of March. One 
 route, that which I followed, passes 
 through Kephissia, and several other 
 pretty villages, redolent with orange and 
 
MARATHON. 
 
 377 
 
 myrtle bushes, and crosses the western in¬ 
 step of Mount Pentelicus, which furnished 
 marble for the Parthenon and other costly 
 edifices of Athens. At a distance of ten 
 or twelve miles from Athens, we bade 
 adieu to the villages, and got into the wilds, 
 which are thickly clad with myrtle, ar¬ 
 butus, and other shrubs. Every bare scar 
 of Pentelicus displayed its beautiful white 
 marble. Without much difficulty we 
 turned its western limb, and then descended 
 by a deep and difficult gorge into the vic¬ 
 tory-hallowed plain. I had been informed 
 that at the convent of Brana I should be 
 hospitably received, and that I should find 
 in one of the monks a well-informed and 
 interesting guide and companion. My re¬ 
 ception at the convent was, however, not 
 warm, though one of the best apartments 
 was assigned to me; and as for the intel¬ 
 ligent monk, I am sorry to say I found no 
 such person—from the brains of the two 
 there resident, not a drop of information 
 
378 
 
 BATTLE OF MARATHON. 
 
 was to be distilled. Under the moonlight 
 of the later evening I stole across the silent 
 plain, and worked my way to the Persians' 
 Mound . I cannot remember having been 
 ever so moved by the power of the spirit 
 of history as I was that night amidst that 
 scene; the identity of the place, and the 
 reality and importance of the event, told 
 with wonderful force upon me. The 
 plain, admirably selected by Miltiades, 
 narrowly encircled by mountains ; the 
 heaving sea, on which rose and sank the 
 proud galleys of the Persian, and the sim¬ 
 ple unlettered monument over the slain in¬ 
 vaders, had more visible verity of history 
 than any battle-field I had ever examined, 
 except Thrasymene. 
 
 “ The Plain of Marathon is a segment of 
 a circle, the sea being the chord, and a 
 bend of hills, including Pentelicus, the arc. 
 There are two suppositions as to the posi¬ 
 tions of the contending armies. One sup¬ 
 position draws up the Persians along the 
 
BATTLE OF MARATHON. 
 
 379 
 
 line of the coast, on the chord, giving them 
 a considerable length of front, and places 
 the Greeks in a bend of the arc, near the 
 convent of Bran a, to defend the pass or 
 gorge by which I descended into the plain, 
 one of the routes to Athens. The other, 
 which has been suggested, and very well 
 argued by Mr. Findlay, now resident at 
 Athens, draws up the Persians diagonally 
 across the plain from the sea to the hills, 
 and places the Miltiades in a flat pass be¬ 
 tween Pentelicus and the sea, through 
 which there is an open route, practicable 
 by cavalry, and easily travelled over in five 
 hours to Athens. This, I must say, al¬ 
 though Colonel Leake dissents from it, 
 appears to me by much the more judicious 
 and more likely arrangement; it closed the 
 more patent and shorter route ; it con¬ 
 tracted the front of the Persians, and it 
 enabled the Greeks to act in a pass that 
 could not be turned either on the one side 
 or the other. The position is admirable, 
 
380 
 
 BATTLE OF MARATHON. 
 
 whilst all its advantages are easily dis¬ 
 covered and appreciated. As for the 
 mound called generally the Persians’ Grave, 
 I am convinced that is a misnomer ; its 
 dimensions are much too small to have 
 covered the thousands that fell that day. 
 It is more likely the cairn erected over the 
 Hellenic slain, immortalized by their very 
 death ; or the tomb of an individual hero ; 
 for in its form and size it agrees well with 
 the tombs of warriors which occur in Asia 
 Minor—of Patroelus, Ajax, and the Trojan 
 heroes. It very likely may be the cairn of 
 Callimachus the Polemarch; or of Stesi- 
 laus, one of the ten generals, both of whom 
 fell on that day. 
 
 “ Of the various monuments mentioned 
 by Pausanias as still existing on the plain 
 when he visited it, none are now extant; 
 but the foundations and debris of two build¬ 
 ings, of ancient Greece masonry, form 
 piles not far distant from the convent of 
 Brana, at the foot of the gorge. 
 
RETURN TO ATHENS. 
 
 381 
 
 “ From the sea-side pass I rode at a can¬ 
 ter the whole way into Athens, in between 
 four and five hours, to convince myself of 
 its eligibility for the Persian cavalry. As 
 I approached Athens, I saw the Smyrna 
 boat entering the Pireeus, most oppor¬ 
 tunely for me. I made my way to my 
 hotel—the Royal, or Casali’s—a much pre¬ 
 ferable house to the Stad Munich —the 
 best indeed in Athens—completed my ar¬ 
 rangements, and on the evening of the 
 7th was under weigh for the coast of Asia 
 Minor. 
 
 “ Such was the continuation of my 
 Grecian tour after I had the misfortune to 
 part with you, and I shall be very glad if 
 my narrative conveys to you any adequate 
 ideas of the districts which you missed 
 seeing. 
 
 “ I remain always your’s, 
 
 “ very faithfully, 
 
 “James Johnstone.” 
 
382 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ZANTE.-QUARANTINE.—PITCH SPRINGS.—RETURN. 
 
 [22nd FEBRUARY TO 2nd MARCH.] 
 
 We had arrived at Zante at, or about, 
 twelve at night, and did our best to per¬ 
 suade the health-officers next morning that 
 it was before that hour, in order to avoid an 
 additional day of quarantine. We thought 
 ourselves justified in employing all our ora¬ 
 tory on the occasion; because, having been 
 asleep, we could not pledge ourselves to the 
 preciseand we succeeded; but whe¬ 
 ther owing to our eloquence, or the officers’ 
 leniency, I know not. After their official 
 visit—during which we went through a 
 great deal of dumb-show—such as slapping 
 
QUARANTINE. 
 
 383 
 
 our sides and chest, which seems to be the 
 main proof of the non-existence of plague, 
 but which is a most ludicrous exhibition of 
 antics, when, as in our case, there may 
 chance to be thirty or forty going through 
 the same motions, like children at an in¬ 
 fant-school—a mitigated sentence, as they 
 would say at Bow-street, of eight days’ im¬ 
 prisonment was passed upon us, and we 
 crossed the little bay to the lazaretto, which 
 standing on the opposite side from the town, 
 tantalizes its inmates with a view of the 
 pleasures of society, under a strict prohi¬ 
 bition from sharing them. 
 
 Here we had the pleasure of again meet¬ 
 ing Mr. and Mrs. Hill, the American mis¬ 
 sionary and his lady, whose kindness during 
 our stay at Athens has been already ac¬ 
 knowledged, and who had just arrived from 
 the capital, the lady being on her way 
 to visit her friends in America. There 
 was also a party of travellers—some over¬ 
 land from India—all waiting the arrival of 
 
384 
 
 QUARANTINE. 
 
 the steamer, expected from Corfu in ten 
 days. 
 
 We had therefore what anywhere else 
 would have been an agreeable society, but 
 in this quarantine prison nothing can be 
 agreeable, and the time crawled but hea¬ 
 vily along, our chief occupation being to 
 watch the boat which brought over our 
 breakfast and dinner from the town, then 
 devour the contents, and in due succession 
 watch the next arrival. A few news¬ 
 papers, kindly lent to us, gave an insight 
 into the occurrences of the preceding 
 month in the European world, from which 
 we had been as completely shut out as if 
 we had descended into the pit of Acheron. 
 These, with the help of a few books, and 
 the putting our notes and sketches into 
 order, afforded us some little occupation, 
 and rendered the day less wearisome than 
 I had anticipated. 
 
 While here we heard of an insurrection 
 of the Suliotes in Roumelia. It is the 
 
INSURRECTION. 
 
 385 
 
 fashion here—I know not how truly—to 
 suppose a Russian intrigue in all such oc¬ 
 currences, and to believe that they foment 
 disturbances in order that their interference 
 may he solicited. The report is that 2000 
 insurgents have taken one or two towns, 
 cashiered the authorities, and desired them 
 to tell the government at Athens that they 
 are coming thither to demand their rights. 
 They are now besieging Missolonghi, which 
 it was at first feared would not hold out; and 
 to its relief were directed those troops whose 
 perilous salute Mr. Johnstone had under¬ 
 gone in the Gulf of Lepanto. The leaders 
 of this movement are said to be nearly 
 connected with some of the king’s own 
 personal attendants, who are reported to 
 have not been ignorant of the treasonable 
 intentions of their relatives. 
 
 A few days more brought intelligence 
 that a small body of troops from Patras— 
 with, I suppose, the assistance of Mr. John¬ 
 stone’s friends—had speedily put down this 
 
 s 
 
386 
 
 GREEK FEUDS. 
 
 disturbance, with the loss but of a single 
 life, that of a Bavarian officer of engineers, 
 who being at Patras on his way home, was 
 requested to accompany the troops to Mis- 
 solonghi. Pie was shot through the head 
 while pointing a cannon from the ram¬ 
 parts. 
 
 I have already hinted my opinion that 
 there are still the remains of the same kind 
 of feud which has existed from the earliest 
 days, between the northern and southern 
 Greeks—between Thessaly and Macedon, 
 now generally called Roumelia — and 
 Hellas proper. If King Otho shall be 
 able to play off his Hellenic against his 
 Roumeliote subjects, he may be able to 
 keep the whole in order ; but I confess we 
 saw many symptoms which led us to doubt 
 the permanence of the present arrange¬ 
 ment, without a strong guarantee, and, pro¬ 
 bably, the direct interference of the great 
 powers. 
 
 The day before our quarantine would 
 
QUARANTINE. 
 
 387 
 
 have expired, the Ionian government- 
 steamer, brought instructions that the Mo- 
 rea was henceforward to be in pratique 
 with the islands, so that we were the very 
 last unfortunate persons subjected to this 
 delay, odious to every traveller, but pecu¬ 
 liarly annoying to those whose time, as in 
 our case, is limited. On receiving this 
 intelligence, we were with difficulty re¬ 
 strained from marching out of the lazaretto, 
 where the authorities, it appeared, thought 
 we might as well remain till the morrow, 
 when our original sentence would have ex¬ 
 pired. Our threats of setting this now 
 absurd, and we believed illegal detention 
 at defiance, and of departing without leave, 
 induced the prior or captain of the laza- 
 • retto to send several messages to procure 
 the order for our instant liberation, which 
 was at last with some difficulty obtained. 
 
 There may have been some good reason 
 for this demur on the part of the author¬ 
 ities—but we did not hear so much as a 
 
 s 2 
 
388 
 
 TOWN OF ZANTE. 
 
 whisper of any, and we concluded that it 
 arose from a mere indifference to our being 
 liberated a day sooner or a day later : our 
 ultimate release seems to show there was 
 no legal objection; and if this be so, the 
 attempt of our quarantine tyrants was very 
 blameable. 
 
 On leaving our quarantine quarters, we 
 walked along the shores of the bay into the 
 town, taking up our quarters at the Italian 
 HoteL 
 
 The town is a goodly one, much supe¬ 
 rior to Corfu; the streets better and 
 cleaner; the chief street is more than half 
 a mile in length, with a piazza on each 
 side, with long ranges of shops, chiefly of 
 jewellers. There are also many churches, 
 several very richly ornamented with carv¬ 
 ing and gilding. Rising directly behind 
 the town—indeed some of the houses 
 stand on it—is the hill, which, fortified on 
 the top, forms the citadel. On the land 
 side, the descent of the hill is not only pre- 
 
PIOR DI LEVANTI 
 
 389 
 
 cipitous but as smooth as the surface of a 
 wall, and is therefore not so strongly for¬ 
 tified as that towards the town—resembling 
 in this the Acropolis of Athens. 
 
 From this citadel you have a view of 
 the greater part of the island, which is a 
 highly-cultivated plain, interspersed with 
 villages, and bounded by lofty hills—the 
 black mountain of Cephalonia standing in 
 gloomy grandeur behind. But I am now 
 enabled to affirm what I before only sus¬ 
 pected, that the honour of being Fior cli 
 Levante does not really belong to it—un¬ 
 less it may be in the way of cultivation— 
 for it is immeasurably inferior to Corfu in 
 both beauty and grandeur. 
 
 Here are no dark woods—deep ravines, 
 or craggy mountains—those indispensable 
 ingredients in a picturesque landscape— 
 but a level expanse, exhibiting the tame 
 fertility of corn fields and vineyards, which, 
 to the eye of the cultivator and the currant 
 merchant seems, I have no doubt, the 
 
390 
 
 CURRANT CULTIVATION. 
 
 Flower of the Levant. This little fruit, 
 which is nothing but a dwarf vine, de¬ 
 rives its name from Corinth, whence it was 
 first exported to the west. It is still grown 
 pretty generally on the north coast of the 
 Morea, but nowhere in such quantities, or 
 I believe excellence, as at Zante, of whose 
 trade the currants constitute the staple com¬ 
 modity. I have however understood that, 
 since the revolution, the currant cultivation 
 is diminishing in the islands, and increas¬ 
 ing in its original seats—Corinth and that 
 vicinity—from which it had been in a great 
 measure driven by the bad policy of the 
 Turkish government. 
 
 On the seaward side the view is ample, 
 and well repays the ascent to the citadel. 
 The whole coast of Greece, from Misso- 
 longhi to Navarino, is distinctly visible, 
 with a blue line of mountain bounding the 
 coast—behind which appear the still more 
 lofty snow-capped tops of those to the north 
 of the Gulf of Lepanto, as well as those 
 
OPERA. 
 
 391 
 
 scattered through the heart of the Morea. 
 We could indeed almost trace our route 
 round, by the mountains in the neigh¬ 
 bourhood of the chief points and objects 
 of curiosity. 
 
 Here again we found an opera—a wooden 
 building indeed, but in all its internal 
 fittings far superior to the more stately 
 stone structure of Corfu. Here also the 
 dresses and scenery were tolerable, and the 
 acting and singing good, or at least pleas¬ 
 ing to us. The buffo would, I think, have 
 passed off with credit anywhere. 
 
 We left the lazaretto on Saturday even¬ 
 ing, but were disappointed at finding on 
 Sunday morning that there is no Protest¬ 
 ant church or place of worship in Zante, 
 nor even a chaplain for the military and 
 English residents ; which seems to them, 
 and I confessed it seemed so to us also— 
 a hardship. In Cephalonia there is a 
 military chaplain, and all in Zante who 
 wish to have baptisms or any other rites of 
 
392 
 
 DIVINE SERVICE. 
 
 the church performed, are obliged to cross 
 over to that island. 
 
 We, however, attended divine service at 
 the house of the Resident, Major Longley, 
 which Mr. Hill performed according to the 
 English Church ritual to a respectable con¬ 
 gregation. 
 
 During the remainder of Sunday we 
 strolled about the town, and reserved for 
 Monday and Tuesday (the packet being 
 expected in the course of Wednesday) 
 our visits to the different objects of curiosity 
 which the island affords : the two chief of 
 these are the Pitch Springs and the Tallow 
 Wells, for each of which we appropriated 
 a day. 
 
 On Monday morning (the 29th of Feb¬ 
 ruary), therefore, we mounted some excel¬ 
 lent hacks, and cantered over roads as good, 
 for the first five miles, as could anywhere 
 be seen; but, for the remaining five, as 
 bad as any we had found in the Morea 
 itself, being all but impassable, from the 
 
PITCH SPRINGS. 
 
 393 
 
 depth of mud, through which the horses 
 were scarcely able to wade. At last we 
 arrived at the springs, which are on the 
 southern shore of the island, and distant 
 three hours from the town. They are two 
 —the principal, surrounded by a low wall, 
 and between five and six feet in diameter; 
 —here the pitch is seen bubbling up under 
 the clear water, which is about a foot deep 
 over the pitch itself, with which it comes out 
 of the earth: the pitch-bubbles rise with 
 the appearance of an india-rubber bottle, 
 until the air within bursts, and the pitch 
 falls back and runs off. Some men in the 
 neighbourhood told me that it produced 
 about three barrels a day, and could be 
 used when mixed with pine-pitch, though 
 in a pure state it is comparatively useless. 
 The other spring is in an adjoining vine¬ 
 yard ; but the pitch does not bubble up, 
 and is, in fact, only discernible by the 
 ground having a burnt appearance, and the 
 
394 
 
 PITCH SPRINGS. 
 
 feet adhering to the surface as one walks 
 over it. 
 
 Our excursion to these springs amused 
 us so much that we were, the next day, 
 the more disappointed on finding we could 
 not see the rival curiosity—the tallow-well, 
 which the weather prevented our visiting 
 for the following reason. The place is only 
 accessible in a boat, and as there are no 
 boats on the spot, it is necessary to send 
 one round from the harbour. We had 
 given the necessary directions for this pur¬ 
 pose, and had ordered horses, to ride to the 
 point where the boat was to meet us; but 
 the boatmen came in early in the morning 
 to say, with rueful countenances, that they 
 had started for the purpose, but that the 
 wind had proved too much for them, and 
 they had been obliged to put back with a 
 broken oar . This accident did not seem 
 to us so very awful; but it defeated our 
 project. The well was described to us as 
 
TALLOW-WELL. 
 
 395 
 
 being in a cave on the sea-shore, from the 
 sides of which drips an unctuous oily 
 matter, which, running into the water, 
 floats on the surface, and gives it the name 
 of the tallow-well; hut we could not learn 
 that it had any of the essential qualities of 
 tallow, or could he collected or applied to 
 any useful purpose. 
 
 We had noticed on the Sunday morn¬ 
 ing that every person had a bouquet of 
 violets, some with other flowers intermixed; 
 hut the most delicious violets formed the 
 chief part of all, while numbers of people 
 were selling these bouquets, and carrying 
 on a thriving trade. Their cry was, “ A vo 
 \znroc. tx ioc ,”—“ Two farthings the violets.” 
 —Our servant brought in one of the gayer 
 bunches for each of us, and on our asking 
 him why they were so much in request, he 
 said that it was usual for Zante people to 
 buy them at this season, and give them to 
 their “ lovers ,” meaning those they love. 
 We were, then, in a very loving country, 
 
396 
 
 ZANTIOTE VALENTINES. 
 
 for we did not see a single person who did 
 not display a bunch of violets. Perhaps 
 others, like ourselves, had purchased the 
 honour. This, we suppose, was connected 
 with the Greek observance of St. Valen¬ 
 tine’s day, which occurred about this time. 
 
 Being foiled (as I have said) in our at¬ 
 tempt to see the tallow sight, we roamed 
 over the town, ate ices, and bought, for 
 presents at home—some Zantiote trinkets 
 and scarfs, which are worked of silk and 
 cotton, and chiefly in request for the turbans 
 of the dames of the Morocco coast. 
 
 We also visited the school, where some 
 forty or fifty girls were working Greek 
 samplers, and saying the Greek ABC, 
 which would be called by them A V C • 
 they appeared intelligent, and there were 
 some pretty faces, but with more of the 
 Italian feature than the Greek. 
 
 On Wednesday (2nd of March) the 
 packet was expected, and on Wednesday 
 evening she accordingly arrived. The cer- 
 
ROUTE HOMEWARD. 
 
 397 
 
 tainty with which the movements of the 
 steam-packets may be depended on is an im¬ 
 mense advantage to travellers, and should 
 form a main ingredient in any scheme for 
 a tour in these parts. 
 
 If I had been entirely my own master, I 
 should, undoubtedly, have returned by Italy, 
 and France or Germany, instead of repeat¬ 
 ing the voyage we had before made ; but 
 not only was the steam conveyance the 
 most certain in point of time (in which I 
 was limited), but my medical advisers had 
 laid so much stress on the importance of 
 the sea-voyage to my health, that, after the 
 unexpected cold and fatigue of our journey 
 through the Morea, I felt that I ought 
 not to omit a second dose of the maritime 
 specific, which had already produced such 
 good effects; and Mr. Newton (to whom 
 the consideration of health did not apply so 
 forcibly as to me, and that of time not at 
 all) was still so kind as not to abandon his 
 fellow-traveller. We therefore lost no time 
 
398 
 
 ROUTE HOMEWARD. 
 
 in re-embarking on board his Majesty’s 
 steam-vessel Confiance , for our homeward 
 passage. 
 
 The party previously assembled at Zante 
 was increased by two gentlemen, who had 
 crossed from the mainland since our escape 
 from quarantine; but they had endured a 
 much more disagreeable delay. They had 
 left Patras a few hours after Mr. and Mrs. 
 Hill, but the wind changing, they had been 
 driven by a gale into Missolonghi, after 
 having been nearly lost; but were not 
 allowed to land there, on account of the 
 rebellion which I have just mentioned, and 
 they had been all this time with nothing in 
 their boat, by way of provision, but a little 
 black bread, unboiled peas, and dirty water 
 — such had been their hard fate and fare 
 for six stormy days. 
 
 Being now on board, and retracing our 
 former course, I have little to add. Forty 
 hours conveyed us to Malta, where we 
 were again placed in quarantine for the 
 
ROUTE HOMEWARD. 
 
 399 
 
 four days of our stay, and would have been 
 for as many more before we should have 
 been permitted to land. 
 
 We started, however, from tlience on 
 Tuesday the 8th of March, in his Majesty’s 
 steam-vessel Tartarus —to which we, with 
 the mails, had been turned over—and ar¬ 
 rived at Gibraltar on the 15th, where we 
 again remained sixty hours. Leaving that 
 place on the evening of the 17th, and stop¬ 
 ping next day to exchange mails at Cadiz, 
 we reached Falmouth harbour on the 24th, 
 in perfect health and spirits, after an ex¬ 
 cursion, by sea and land, of eleven weeks 
 and a few days, which—however it may 
 appear to my reader in my poor narrative— 
 was to us in the highest degree delightful. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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