The Earth and its inhabitants

Turkey in Europe*

I — General Aspects

The Balkan peninsula is, perhaps, that amongst the three great peninsulas of Southern Europe which enjoys the greatest natural advantages, and occupies the most favourable geographical position. In its outline it is far less unwieldy than Spain, and even surpasses Italy in variety of contour. Its coasts are washed by four seas; they abound in gulfs, harbours, and peninsulas, and are fringed by numerous islands. Several of its valleys and plains vie in fertility with the banks of the Guadalquivir and the plains of Lombardy. The floras of two climes intermingle on its soil, and add their charms to the landscape. The mountains of Turkey do not yield to those of the two other peninsulas in graceful outline or grandeur, and most of them are still covered with virgin forests. If they are less accessible than the Apennines of Italy or the sierras of Spain, that is owing simply to the want of roads; for they are, as a rule, of moderate elevation, and the plateaux from which they rise are narrower and more extensively intersected by valleys than is the table-land of Castile. Both Spain and Italy are closed in the north by mountain barriers difficult to cross, whilst the Balkan peninsula joins the continental trunk by almost imperceptible transitions, and nowhere is it separated from it by well-defined natural boundaries. The Austrian Alps extend without a break into Bosnia, and the Carpathians cross the Danube in order to effect a junction with the system of the Balkan. To the east of the “Iron Gate” there are no mountains at all, and Turkey is bounded there by the broad valley of the Danube.

The proximity and parallelism of the coasts of two continents confer upon the Balkan peninsula an advantage unrivalled, perhaps, throughout the world. It is separated from Asia only by the narrow channel which joins the Black Sea to the Ægean Sea: this channel is an ocean highway, and yet forms no serious obstacle to the migration of nations from continent to continent. If the Black Sea were larger than it is at present; if it still formed one sea with the Caspian, and extended far into Asia, as it did in a past age, then Constantinople would necessarily become the great centre of the ancient world. That proud position was actually held by it a thousand years ago, and even if it should never recover it, its geographical position alone insures to it an importance for all time to come. If the city were to be razed to day, it would arise again to-morrow at some other spot in the neighbourhood. In the dawn of history powerful Ilion kept watch at the entrance of the Dardanelles: it survives in the city on the Bosphorus; and had there been no Byzantium, its mantle would have descended upon some other town in the same locality.

We know the part played by ancient Greece in the history of human culture. Macedonia and Thracia, the two other countries bordering upon the Ægean, have played their part too. It was those provinces which, after the invasion of the Persians, gave birth to the movement of reaction which led the armies of Alexander to the Euphrates and Indus. The power of the Romans survived there for a thousand years after Rome itself had fallen, and the precious germs of civilisation, which at a later period regenerated Western Europe, were nurtured there. It is true, alas! that the Turk has put a stop to every enterprise of a civilising nature. These conquerors of Turanian race were carried into the Balkan peninsula in the course of a general migration of nations towards the west, which went on for three thousand years, and was attended by perpetual broils. It is now five hundred years since the Turks obtained a footing in the peninsula, and for more than four hundred years they have been its masters, and during that long period the old Roman empire of the East has been severed, as it were, from the rest of Europe. The normal progress of these highly favoured countries has been interrupted by incessant wars between Christians and Mo­ham­me­dans, by the decay of the nations conquered or enslaved by the Turks, and by the heedless fatalism of the masters of the country. But the time is approaching when that important portion of Europe will resume the position due to it amongst the countries of the earth.

Vast tracts of the Balkan peninsula are hardly better known to us than the wilds of Africa. Kanitz found rivers, hills, and mountains figuring upon our maps which have no existence. Another traveller, Lejean, found that a pretended low pass through the Balkans existed only in the imagination. Russian geodesists engaged upon the measurement of an arc of a meridian found that Sofia, one of the largest and best-known cities of Turkey, had been inserted upon the best maps at a distance of nearly a day’s journey from its true position. The entire chain of the Balkans had to be shifted considerably to the south, in consequence of explorations carried on within the last few years. Men of science have hardly ventured yet to explore the plateaux of Albania or Mount Pindus, and much remains yet to be done before our knowledge of the topography of the Balkan peninsula can be called even moderately complete. The voyages and explorations of a host of travellers24 have, however, made known to us its general features and its geological formations. Their task was by no means an easy one, for the mountain masses and mountain chains of the peninsula do not constitute a regular, well-defined system. There is no central range, with spurs running out on both sides, and gradually decreasing in height as they approach the plains. Nor is the centre of the peninsula its most elevated portion, for the culminating summits are dispersed over the country apparently without order. The mountain ranges run in all the directions of the compass, and we can only say, in a general way, that those of Western Turkey run parallel with the Adriatic and Ionian coasts, whilst those in the east meet the coasts of the Black Sea and the Ægean at right angles. The relief of the soil and the water-sheds make it appear almost as if Turkey turned her back upon continental Europe. Its highest mountains, its most extensive table-lands, and its most inaccessible forests lie towards the west and north-west, as if they were intended to cut it off from the shores of the Adriatic and the plains of Hungary, whilst all its rivers, whether they run to the north, east, or south, finally find their way into the Black Sea or the Ægean, whose shores face those of Asia.

This irregularity in the distribution of the mountains has its analogue in the distribution of the various races which inhabit the peninsula. The invaders or peaceful colonists, whether they came across the straits from Asia Minor, or along the valley of the Danube from Scythia, soon found themselves scattered in numerous valleys, or stopped by amphitheatres having no outlet. They failed to find their way in this labyrinth of mountains, and members of the most diverse races settled down in proximity to each other, and frequently came into conflict. The most numerous, the most warlike, or the most industrious races gradually extended their power at the expense of their neighbours; and the latter, defeated in the struggle for existence, have been scattered into innumerable fragments, between which there is no longer any cohesion. Hungary has a homogeneous population, if we compare it with that of Turkey; for in the latter country there are districts where eight or ten different nationalities live side by side within a radius of a few miles.

Time, however, has brought some order into this chaos, and commercial intercourse has done much to assimilate these various races. Speaking broadly, Turkey in Europe may now be said to be divided into four great ethnological zones. The Greeks occupy Crete, the islands of the Archipelago, the shores of the Ægean Sea, and the eastern slopes of Mounts Pindus and Olympus; the Albanians hold the country between the Adriatic and Mount Pindus; the Slavs, including Servians, Croats, Bosnians, Herzegovinians, and Tsernagorans (Montenegrins), occupy the Illyrian Alps, towards the north-west; whilst the slopes of the Balkan, the Despoto Dagh, and the plains of Eastern Turkey belong to the Bulgarians, who, as far as language goes, are Slavs likewise. As to the Turks, the lords of the land, they are to be met with in most places, and particularly in the large towns and fortresses; but the only portion of the country which they occupy to the exclusion of other races is the north-eastern corner of the peninsula, bounded by the Balkans, the Danube, and the Black Sea.

II — Crete and the Islands of the Archipelago

Crete, next to Cyprus, is the largest island inhabited by Greeks. It is a natural dependency of Greece, but treaties made without consulting the wishes of the people have handed it over to the Turks. It is Greek in spite of this, not only because the majority of its inhabitants consider it to be so, but also because of its soil, its climate, and its geographical position. On all sides it is surrounded by deep seas, except towards the north-west, where a submarine plateau joins it to Cythera and the Peloponnesus.

There are few countries in the world more favoured by nature. Its climate is mild, though sometimes too dry in summer; its soil fertile in spite of the waters being swallowed up by the limestone rocks; its harbours spacious and well sheltered; and its scenery exhibits both grandeur and quiet beauty. The position of Crete, at the mouth of the Archipelago, between Europe, Asia, and Africa, seems to have destined that island to become the great commercial emporium of that part of the world. Aristotle already observed this, and, if tradition can be trusted, Crete actually held that position for more than three thousand years. During that time it “ruled the waves;” the Cyclades acknowledged the sway of Minos, its king; Cretan colonists established themselves in Sicily; and Cretan vessels found their way to every part of the Me­di­ter­ra­nean. But the island unfortunately became divided into innumerable small republics jealous of each other, and was therefore unable to maintain this commercial supremacy in the face of Dorian and other Greeks. At a subsequent period the Romans subjected the island, and it never recovered its independence. Byzantines, Arabs, Venetians, and Turks have held it in turn, and by each of them it has been laid waste and impoverished.

The elongated shape of the island, and the range of mountains which runs through it from one extremity to the other, enable us to understand how it was that at a time when most Greeks looked upon the walls of their cities as synonymous with the limits of their fatherland, Crete became divided into a multitude of small republics, and how every attempt at federation (“syncretism”) miserably failed. The inhabitants, in fact, were more effectually separated from each other than if they had inhabited a number of small islands forming an archipelago. Most of the coast valleys are enclosed by high mountains, the only easy access to them being from the sea, and communications between the towns occupying their centres are possible only by crossing difficult mountain paths easily defended. In all Crete there exists but one plain deserving the name, viz. that of Messara, to the south of the central mass of mountains. It is the granary of the island, and the Ieropotamo, or “holy river,” which traverses it, has a little water even in the middle of summer.

The contour of Crete corresponds in a remarkable manner with the height of its mountains. Where these are high, the island is broad; where they sink down, it is narrow. In the centre of the island rises Mount Ida (Psiloriti), where Jupiter was educated by the Corybantes, and where his tomb was shown. Its lofty summit, covered with snow almost throughout the year, its gigantic buttresses, and the verdant valleys at its base render it one of the most imposing mountains in the world; but it was still more magnificent in the time of the ancient Greeks, when forests covered its slopes, and justified its being called Mount Ida, or “the wooded.” On the summit of this mountain the whole island lies spread out beneath our feet; the horizon towards the north, from Mount Taygetus to the shores of Asia, is dotted with islands and peninsulas; and in the south a wide expanse of water extends beyond the barren and inhospitable island of Gaudo.

The Leuca-Ori, or “White Mountains,” in the western extremity of the island, are thus called on account of the snow which covers their summits, or because of their white limestone cliffs. They are exceedingly steep, and perfectly bare, hardly any verdure being met with even in the valleys at their foot. They are known, also, as the Mountains of the Sphakiotes, the descendants of the ancient Dorians, who have retired into their fastnesses, where they are protected by nature against every attack. Some of their villages are accessible only by following the stony bed of mountain torrents leaping down from the heights in small cascades. During the rains the water rushes down these ravines in mighty torrents. The “gates are closed” then, as it is said. One of these gates, or pharynghi, is that of Hagio Rumeli, on the southern slope of the Leuca-Ori. When rain threatens it is dangerous to enter these gorges, for the waters rush down and carry everything before them. During the war of independence the Turks vainly endeavoured to force this “gate” of the strong mountain citadel. The level pieces of ground on these heights are sufficiently extensive to support a considerable population, if it were not for the cold. The villages of Askyfo occupy one of these plains, which is surrounded on all sides by an amphitheatre of mountains. In former times this cavity was occupied by a lake. This is proved by ancient beaches and by other evidence. But the waters of the lake found an outlet through some katavothras (khonos, “sinks”) and discharged themselves into the sea.

The remaining mountains of the island are less elevated and far less sterile than the White Mountains. The most remarkable amongst them are the Lasithi, and, still farther west, those of Dicte, or Sitia, a sort of pendant to the Mountains of the Sphakiotes. Raised sea-beaches have been traced along their northern slopes, covered with shells of living species, and they prove that that portion of the island has been upheaved more than sixty feet during a recent geological epoch. The northern coast, between the White Mountains and Mount Dicte, offers a greater variety of contour than does the south coast. Its capes, or acroteria, project far into the sea, and thence are gulfs, bays, and secure anchorages. For these reasons most commercial cities have been built upon that side of the island, which faces the Archipelago and presents a picture of life, whilst the south coast, facing Africa, is comparatively deserted. All the modern cities on the northern coasts have been built upon the sites of ancient ones. Megalokastron, better known by its Italian name of Candia, is the Heracleum of the ancients, the famous haven of Cnossus. Retimo, on the western front of Mount Ida, is easily identified with the ancient Rithymna; whilst Khanea (Canea), whose white houses are almost confounded with the arid slopes of the White Mountains, represents the Cydonia of the Greeks, famous for its forests of quince-trees. Canea is the actual capital, and although not the most populous, it is nevertheless the most important and the busiest city of the island. It has a second haven to the east, Azizirge, on Suda Bay, one of the best sheltered on the island, and promises to become one of the principal maritime stations on the Me­di­ter­ra­nean.25

Crete has certainly lost much in population and wealth, and the epithet of the “isle of a hundred cities,” which it received from the ancient Greeks, no longer applies to it. Miserable villages occupy the sites of the ancient cities, their houses built from the materials of a single ruined wall, whilst immense quarries had to be opened in order to supply the building materials required in former times. The famous “labyrinth” is one of the most considerable of these ancient quarries. Crete, in spite of its great fertility, exports merely a few agricultural products, and nothing now reminds us of the fruitful island upon which Ceres gave birth to Plutus. The peasants are the reputed owners of the land, but they take little heed of its cultivation. Their olives yield only an inferior oil, and though the wine they make is good in spite of them, it is no longer the Malvoisie so highly prized by the Venetians. The cultivation of cotton, tobacco, and of fruit of all sorts is neglected. The only progress in agriculture which can be recorded during the present century consists in the introduction of orange-trees, whose delicious fruit is highly appreciated throughout the East. M. Georges Perrot has drawn attention to the singular fact that, with the exception of the olive-trees and the vine, the cultivated trees of the island are confined to particular localities. Thus chestnuts are met with only at the western extremity of the island; vigorous oaks and cypresses are confined to the elevated valleys of the Sphakiotes; the valonia oaks are met with only in the province of Retimo; Mount Dicte alone supports stone-pines and carob-trees; and a promontory in South-eastern Crete, jutting out towards Africa, is surmounted by a grove of date-trees—the finest throughout the Archipelago.

The inhabitants of Crete and the neighbouring islets are still Greek, in spite of successive invasions, and they still speak a Greek dialect, recognised as a corrupted Dorian. The Slavs, who invaded the island during the Middle Ages, have left no trace except the names of a few villages. The Arabs and Venetians, too, have been assimilated by the aboriginal Cretans; but there still exist a considerable number of Albanians, the descendants of soldiers, who have retained their language and their customs. As to the Mo­ham­me­dans or pretended Turks, who constitute about one-fifth of the total population, they are, for the most part, the descendants of Cretans who embraced Islamism in order to escape persecution. They are the only Hellenes throughout the East who have embraced, in a body, the religion of their conquerors; but since religious persecution has subsided several of those Mo­ham­me­dan Greeks have returned to the religion of their ancestors. The Greeks of Crete are thus not only vastly in the majority, but they hold the first place also in industry, commerce, and wealth; it is they who buy up the land, and the Mo­ham­me­dan gradually retires before them. All Cretans, with the exception of the Albanians, speak Greek, and only in the capital and in a portion of Messara, where the Mo­ham­me­dans live in compact masses, has the Turkish language made any progress.

We need not be surprised, therefore, if the Greeks lay claim to a country in which their preponderance is so marked. But, in spite of their valour, they were no match against the Turkish and Egyptian armies which were brought against them.

The Cretans are said to resemble their ancestors in the eagerness with which they do business, and in their disregard of truth. They may possibly be “Greeks amongst Greeks—liars amongst liars;” but they certainly cannot be reproached with being bad patriots. On the contrary, they have suffered much for the sake of their fatherland, and during the war of independence their blood was shed in torrents on many a battle-field. The vast cavern of Melidhoni, on the western slope of Mount Ida, was the scene of one of the terrible events of this war. In 1822 more than three hundred Hellenes, most of them women, children, and old men, had sought refuge in this cavern. The Turks lit a fire at its mouth, and the smoke, penetrating to its farthest extremity, suffocated the unfortunate beings who had hoped to find shelter there.

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The profound “Sea of Minos,” to the north of Crete, separates that island from the Archipelago. All the islands of the latter have been assigned to the kingdom of Greece—Astypalæa, vulgarly called Astropalæa or Stampalia, alone excepted, which still belongs to the Turks. The ancients called this island the “Table of the Gods,” although it is only a barren rock. It clearly belongs to the eastern chain of the Cyclades, as far as geological formation and the configuration of the sea-bottom go; but the diplomats allowed its fifteen hundred inhabitants to remain under the dominion of Turkey.

Amongst the other islands inhabited by Greeks, but belonging to Turkey, Thasos is that which lies nearest to the coast of Europe. The strait which separates it from Macedonia is hardly four miles across, and in its centre there is an island (Thasopulo), as well as several sand-banks, which interfere much with navigation. Though a natural dependency of Macedonia, this island is governed by a mudir of the Viceroy of Egypt, to whom the Porte made a present of it. When Mohammed II. put an end to the Byzantine empire, Thasos and the neighbouring islands formed a principality, the property of the Italian family of the Gateluzzi.

Μ

Thasos is one of those countries of the ancient world the present condition of which contrasts most unfavourably with former times. Thasos, an ancient Phœnician colony, was once the rival, and subsequently the wealthy and powerful ally, of Athens: its hundred thousand inhabitants worked the gold and iron mines of the island; they quarried its beautiful white marble; cultivated vineyards yielding a famous wine; and extended their commercial expeditions to every part of the Ægean Sea. But now there are neither mines nor quarries, the vines yield only an inferior product, the agricultural produce hardly suffices for the six thousand inhabitants of the island, and the ancient haven of Thasos is frequented only by the tiniest of vessels. The island has recovered very slowly from the blow inflicted upon it by Mohammed II., who carried nearly the whole of its inhabitants to Constantinople. Thasos after this became a haunt of pirates, and its inhabitants sought shelter within the mountains of the interior. They are Hellenes, but their dialect is very much mixed with Turkish words. Unlike other Hellenes, they are not anxious to improve their minds. They are degenerate Greeks, and they know it. “We are sheep and beasts of burden,” they’ repeatedly told the French traveller, Perrot.

Thasos, however, is the only island of the Archipelago where wooded mountains and verdant landscapes survive. Rains are abundant, and its vegetation luxuriant. Running streams of water murmur in every valley; large trees throw their shade over the hill-sides; the villages near the foot of the mountain are hidden by cypresses, walnut, and olive-trees; the valleys which radiate in all directions from the centre of the island abound in planes, laurels, yoke-elms, and vigorous oaks; and dark pine forests cover the higher slopes of the hills, the glittering barren summits of Mount St. Elias and of other high mountains alone rising above them.

Samothrace, though smaller than Thasos, is much more elevated. Its mountains are composed of granite, schists, limestones, and trachyte, and form a sort of pendant to Mount Athos, on the other side of the Ægean Sea. If we approach Samothrace from the north or the south, it presents the appearance of a huge coffin floating upon the waters; from the east or west its profile resembles a pyramid rising from the waves. From its summit Neptune watched the fight of the Greeks before Troy. In the dark oak forests of the Black Mountains were carried on the mysteries of Cybele and her Corybantes, as well as the Cabiric worship, which was intimately connected with them, and Samothrace was to the ancient Greeks what Mount Athos is to the moderns—a sacred land. Numerous ruins and inscriptions remain to bear witness to the zeal of devout travellers from all parts of the world. But with the downfall of the heathen temples the pilgrims disappeared. There is only one village on the island now. Its inhabitants lead a secluded life, and the only strange faces they see are those of the sponge-fishers who frequent the island during summer. The entire absence of harbours, and the dangerous current which separates Samothrace from Imbro, keep off the mariner, and though the valleys are extremely fertile, they have not hitherto attracted a single immigrant from the neighbouring continent.

Imbro and Lemnos are separated from Samothrace by a deep sea, and appear to continue the range of the Thracian Chersonesus. Imbro, which is nearest to the continent, is the more elevated of the two islands, but its St. Elias does not attain half the height of the mountains of Samothrace. There are no forests upon the slopes of this mountain, the valleys are covered with stones, and hardly an eighth of the surface of the island is capable of cultivation. Still, the position of Imbro, close to the mouth of the Dardanelles and upon an international ocean highway, will always secure to it a certain degree of importance. The majority of the inhabitants live in a small valley in the north-eastern portion of the island, and though the rivulet which flows through this valley regularly dries up in summer, it is nevertheless called emphatically the Megalos Potamos, or “big river.”

Lemnos, or Limni, is the largest island of Thracia, and at the same time the least elevated and the most barren. You may walk for hours there without seeing a tree. Even olive-trees are not met with in the fields, and the village gardens can boast but of few fruit trees. Timber has to be procured from Thasos or the continent. Lemnos, in spite of all this, is exceedingly fertile; it produces barley and other cereals in plenty, and the pastures amongst its hills sustain 40,000 sheep. The island consists of several distinct mountain groups of volcanic origin, 1,200 to 1,500 feet in height, and separated by low plains covered with scoriæ, or by gulfs penetrating far inland. In the time of the ancient Greeks the volcanoes of Lemnos had not yet quenched their fires, for it was in one of them that Vulcan, when hurled from heaven, established his smithy, and, with the assistance of the Cyclops, forged his thunderbolts for Jupiter. About the beginning of our era Mount Mosychlos and the promontory of Chryse were swallowed up by the sea, and the vast shoals which extend from the eastern part of the island in the direction of Imbro probably mark their site. Since the disappearance of Mount Mosychlos, Lemnos has not again suffered from volcanic eruptions or earthquakes. The majority of the inhabitants are Greeks, and the Turks who have settled amongst them are being evicted by the conquered race, which is superior to them in intelligence and industry. Commerce is entirely in the hands of the Greeks. Its principal seat is at Kastro—the ancient Myrhina—which occupies a headland between two roadsteads. Sealed earth is one of the articles exported, and is found in the mountains. In ancient times it was much prized as an astringent, and is so still throughout the East. It is not considered to possess its healing qualities unless it has been collected before sunrise on Corpus Christi day.

The small island of Stratio (Hagios Eustrathios) depends politically and commercially upon Lemnos. It, too, is inhabited by Greeks. As to the islands along the coast of Asia Minor, they form a portion of Turkey in Europe as far as their political administration is concerned, but geographically they belong to Asia.26

III — Turkey of the Greeks (Thracia, Macedonia, and Thessaly)

The whole of the Ægean seaboard of European Turkey is occupied by Greeks, and this proves the great influence which the sea has exercised upon the migrations of the Me­di­ter­ra­nean nations. Thessaly, Macedonia, Chalcis, and Thrace are more or less Greek countries, and even Constantinople lies within Greece, as defined by ethnological boundaries. The geographical distribution of race there does not, in fact, coincide with the physical features of the country—its mountains, rivers, and climate. The Turkey of the Greeks is, in reality, no geographical unit, and the only tie which unites it are the waters of the Archipelago, which wash all its shores.

Nowhere else does the Balkan peninsula exhibit such varied features as on the shores of the Ægean Sea, and of the adjoining basin of the Sea of Marmara. Bluffs, hills, and mountain masses rise abruptly from the plain; arms of the sea extend far inland; and ramified peninsulas project into the deep waters of the ocean. It appears almost as if nature were making an effort to create an archipelago similar to that in the south.

The tongue of land upon which Constantinople has been built offers a remarkable example of the features which characterize the coast lands of this portion of Europe. Geologically the whole of this peninsula belongs to Asia. Its hollow hills are separated from the granitic mountains of Europe by a wide plain covered with recent formations, and the wall of Athanasius, now in ruins, which was built as a defence to the city, approximately marks the true boundary between Europe and Asia. The rocks on both sides of the Bosphorus belong to the Devonian formation. They contain the same fossils, exhibit the same outward aspects, and date from the same epoch. A patch of volcanic rocks at the northern entrance to the Bosphorus likewise exhibits the same characteristics on both sides of the strait, and there cannot be the least doubt that this European peninsula at a former epoch constituted a portion of Asia Minor, but was severed from it by an irruption of the waters.

Μ

Apollo himself, it is said, pointed out the site where to build the city which is now known as Constantinople, and no better could have been found. In fact, the city occupies the most favoured spot on the Bosphorus. It stands on a peninsula of gently undulating hills, bounded by the Sea of Marmara and by the curved inlet called, from its shape, its beauty, and the valuable cargoes floating upon its waters, the “Golden Horn.” The swift current of the Bosphorus penetrates into this inlet, and sweeps it clean of all the refuse of the city. It then passes into the open sea at the extreme angle of the peninsula, and sailing vessels are thus able to reach their anchorage without having to struggle against a contrary current. This haven not only affords a secure anchorage to a multitude of vessels, but it likewise abounds in fish; for, in spite of the constant agitation of its waters by the oars of caiques and the paddles or screws of steamers, it is visited annually by shoals of tunnies and other fish. The haven of Constantinople, though easy of access to peaceable merchantmen, can readily be closed in case of war. The surrounding heights command every approach to it, and a chain has more than once been drawn across the narrow entrance to its roadstead when the city was besieged. The latter, too, can be defended easily, for it is built upon hills, bounded on the land side by an extensive plain. An assailant, to insure success, must dispose not only of an army, but also of a powerful navy. In addition to all these natural advantages of its site, Constantinople is in the enjoyment of a climate far superior to that of the cities of the Black Sea, for it is screened by hills from cold northerly winds.

Μ

In the dawn of history, when migration and commerce marched only at a slow pace, a site as favoured as that of Byzantium was capable only of attracting the dwellers in its immediate neighbourhood. But after commerce had become developed, the blind alone—so said the oracle of Apollo—could fail to appreciate the great advantages held out by the Golden Horn. Indeed, Constantinople lies not only on the ocean highway which connects the world of the Me­di­ter­ra­nean with the Black Sea, but also on the high-road which leads from Asia into Europe. Geographically it may be described as occupying a position at the mouths of the Danube, Dniester, Dnieper, Don, Rion, and Kizil Irmak, whose common outlet is the Bosphorus. When Constantine the Great constituted it the metropolis of the Roman empire, it grew rapidly in population and wealth; it soon became the city of cities; and its Turkish appellation, Stamboul, is nothing but a corruption of the expression es tam polin, used by the inhabitants to denote their going into the city. Amongst the distant tribes of Asia it represents Rome. They know it by no other name than that of “Rum,” and the country of which it is the capital they call “Rumelia.”

Constantinople is one of the most beautiful cities in the world: it is the “paradisiacal city” of Eastern nations. It may compare with Naples or Rio de Janeiro, and many travellers accord it the palm. As we approach the entrance of the Golden Horn, seated in a caique more graceful than the gondolas of Venice, the vast and varied panorama around us changes with every stroke of the oars. Beyond the white walls of the Seraglio and its masses of verdure rise here, am­phi­thea­tri­cal­ly on the seven hills of the peninsula, the houses of Stamboul—its towers, the vast domes of its mosques, with their circlets of smaller domes, and its elegant minarets, with their balconies. On the other side of the haven, which is crossed by bridges of boats, there are more mosques and towers, seen through a forest of masts and rigging, and covering the slope of a hill whose summit is crowned by regularly built houses and the palatial residences of Pera. On the north vast villa-cities extend along both shores of the Bosphorus. Towards the east, on a promontory of Asia, there is still another city, cradled amidst gardens and trees. This is Scutari, the Asiatic suburb of Constantinople, with its pink houses and vast cemetery shaded by beautiful cypress groves. Farther in the distance we perceive Kadi-koei, the ancient Chalcedon, and the small town of Prinkipo, on one of the Princes’ Islands, whose yellow rocks and verdant groves are reflected in the blue waters of the Sea of Marmara. The sheet of water connecting these various portions of the huge city is alive with vessels and boats, whose movements impart animation to the magnificent picture. The prospect from the heights above the town is still more magnificent. The coasts of Europe and Asia are beneath our feet, the eye can trace the sinuosities of the Bosphorus, and far away in the distance looms the snow-capped pyramidal summit of Mount Olympus, in Bithynia.

But this enchantment vanishes as soon as we penetrate into the streets of Constantinople. There are many parts of the town with narrow and filthy streets, which a stranger hesitates to enter. It is, perhaps, a blessing, from a sanitary point of view, that conflagrations so frequently lay waste and scour large portions of the city. Scarcely a night passes without the watchman on the tower of the Seraskieriate giving the alarm of fire, and thousands of houses are devoured by that element every year. The city thus renews itself by degrees. It rises from its ashes purified by the flames. But formerly, before the Turks had built their city of stone on the heights of Pera, the quarters destroyed by fire were rebuilt as wretchedly as they were before. It is different now. The use of stone has become more general; wooden structures are being replaced by houses built of a fossiliferous white limestone, which is quarried at the very gates of the city; and free use is made of the blue and grey marbles of Marmara, and of the flesh-coloured ones of the Gulf of Cyzica, in Asia Minor, in decorating the palaces of the great.

Nearly every vestige of the monuments of ancient Byzantium has been swept away by fires or sieges. There only exists now the precious tripod of bronze, with its three serpents, which the Platæans had placed in the temple of Delphi in commemoration of their victory over the Persians. The relics of the epoch of the Byzantine emperors are limited to columns, obelisks, arches of aqueducts, the breached walls of the city, the remains of the palace of Justinian, only discovered recently, and the two churches of Santa Sophia, which have been converted into mosques. The grand church of Santa Sophia, close to the Seraglio, is no longer the most magnificent edifice in the universe, as it was in the time of Justinian, for even the neighbouring mosque of Sultan Ahmed far exceeds it in beauty and elegance. It is a clumsy building, supported by buttresses added at various times to keep it from falling. The character of the interior has been changed by the Turks, who have introduced additional pillars, and the once bright mosaics have been covered over; but the dome never fails to strike the beholder: it is a marvel of strength and lightness.

The Seraglio, or Serai, near Garden Point, may boast of fine pavilions and shady walks, but the dark memories of crime will always cling to it. The spot from which sacks containing the bodies of living sultanas or odalisks were hurled into the dark waters of the Bosphorus is still pointed out to the traveller. Far more attractive than this ancient residence of the sultans are the marvellous structures in the Arab or Persian style which line the shores of the Bosphorus, and which impart to the suburbs of Constantinople an aspect of oriental splendour.

The bazaars are amongst the most curious places in the city, not so much because of the rich merchandise which is displayed in them, but because they are frequented by a variety of nations such as cannot be met with in any other city of the world. The capital of the Ottoman empire is a centre of attraction not only to the inhabitants of the Balkan peninsula, but also to those of Anatolia, Syria, Arabia, Egypt, Tunis, and even of the oases. There are “Franks” from every country of Europe, drawn thither by a desire to share in the profits of the ever-increasing commerce of the Bosphorus. This mixture of races is rendered still greater by the surreptitious importation of slaves; for, whatever diplomatists may assert, there can be no doubt that the “honourable guild of slave-dealers” still does an excellent business in negresses, Circassians, and white and black eunuchs. Nor is anything else to be expected amongst a people who look upon a well-stocked harem as a sign of respectability. Dr. Millingen estimates the number of slaves at Constantinople at 30,000 souls, most of whom have been imported from Africa. From an anthropological point of view it is certainly very remarkable that the negro should not have taken root in Constantinople. In the course of the last four centuries a million of negroes at least have been imported, and yet, owing to difficulties of acclimation, ill-usage, and want, they would die out but for fresh importations.

Our statistics do not enable us to classify the 600,000 inhabitants of Constantinople and its suburbs according to race.27 One of the principal sources of error in estimates of this kind consists in our confounding Mussulmans with Turks. In the provinces it is generally possible to avoid this error, for Bosnians, Bulgarians, and Albanians recognise each other as members of the same race, whatever religious differences may exist between them. But in the turmoil of a great city this distinction is no longer made, and, in the end, all those who frequent the mosques are lumped together as if they were members of the same race. Of the supposed Osmanli of Constantinople a third, perhaps, consists of Turks, whilst the remaining two-thirds are made up of Arnauts, Bulgarians, Asiatics, and Africans of various races. Amongst the boatmen there are many Lesghians from the Caucasus. The Mo­ham­me­dans, if not in the minority already, will be so very soon, for they lose ground almost visibly. In old Stamboul, in which a Frank hardly dared to enter some twenty years ago, they still enjoy a numerical preponderance, but in the “agglomeration of cities” known as Constantinople, and extending from Prinkipo to Therapia, they are outnumbered by Greeks, Armenians, and Franks, and certain quarters of the town have been given up to the Christians altogether.

The Greeks are the most influential, and perhaps most numerous, element amongst the rayas. Their head-quarters, like those of the Turks, are at Stamboul, where they occupy a quarter of the town called Phanar, from an old lighthouse. The Greek patriarch and the wealthiest Greek families reside there. These Phanariotes, in former times, almost monopolized the government of the Christian provinces of Turkey, but they fell into disfavour after the Greek war of liberation. The religious influence, too, which they exercised until quite recently, has been destroyed in consequence of the separation of the Servian, Rumanian, and Bulgarian Churches from the orthodox Greek Church—a separation brought about almost entirely through the rapacity of the Greek patriarch and his satellites. If the Greeks would continue to preserve their pre-eminence amongst the races of Constantinople, they must trust, in the future, to their superior intelligence, their commercial habits, education, patriotism, and unanimity. To the Turks the members of the orthodox Church are known as the “Roman nation,” and they enjoy a certain amount of self-government, exercised through their bishops, which extends to marriages, schools, hospitals, and a few other matters.

The “nation” of the Armenians is likewise very strong at Constantinople, and, like that of the “Romans,” it governs itself through an elective Executive Council. Much of the commerce of Constantinople passes through the hands of Armenians, who, though they came to that city almost simultaneously with the Turks, have down to the present day preserved their peculiar manners. They are cold and reserved, and full of self-respect, differing widely from their rivals in trade, the Jews, who slink furtively to their poor suburb of Balata, at the upper extremity of the Golden Horn. The Armenians are clannish in the extreme, they readily assist each other, and, like the Parsees of Bombay, delight in acts of munificence. But, unlike the Greeks, they are not sustained in their undertakings by an ardent belief in the destinies of their race. Most of them are not even able to speak their native language freely, and prefer to converse in Turkish or Greek.

The Franks are much inferior in number to either of the races named, but their influence is nevertheless far more decisive. It is through them that Constantinople is attached to the civilisation of Western Europe, and their institutions are by degrees getting the better of the fatalism of the East. It is they who built the manufacturing suburbs to the west of Constantinople and near Scutari, and who introduced railways. Every civilised nation of the world is represented amongst them—Italians and French most numerously; and to the Americans is due the credit of having established the first geological museum in Turkey, in connection with Robert Colleg.

Constantinople, owing to the influx of strangers, is steadily increasing in population, and one by one the villages in its vicinity are being swallowed up by the city. The whole of the Golden Horn is surrounded by houses now, and they extend far up the valleys of the Cydaris and Barbyzes, which fall into it. Industrial establishments extend along the shores of the Sea of Marmara, from the ancient fort of the Seven Towers far to the west, and from Chalcedon to the south-east, in the direction of the Gulf of Nicomedia. Both banks of the Bosphorus are lined with villas, palaces, kiosks, cafés, and hotels. This remarkable channel extends for nineteen miles between the shores of Europe and of Asia.28 Like a huge mountain valley it winds between steep promontories, now contracting and then expanding, until it finally opens out into the vast expanse of the Black Sea. When northern winds hurl the agitated waters of the latter against the sombre cliffs which guard the entrance to the Bosphorus, the contrast between this savage sea and the placid waters of the strait and its charming scenery is striking indeed. At every turn we are arrested by unexpected charms. Rocks, palaces, woods, vessels of every description, and the curious scaffoldings of Bulgarian fishermen succeed each other in infinite variety.

Amongst the innumerable country residences which nestle on the shores of the Bosphorus, those of Balta-Liman, Therapia, and Buyukdere are the best known, for they have been the scenes of historical events; but there is no spot throughout this marine valley which does not excite admiration. These marvels of nature will, before long, have added to them a marvel of human ingenuity. The width of the channel between the castles of Rumili and Anadoli is only 600 yards. It was here Mandroclus of Samos constructed the bridge of boats across which Darius marched his army of 700,000 men when he made war upon the Scythians, and on this identical spot it is proposed now to construct a railway bridge which will join the railways of Europe to those of Asia. A current runs through the Bosphorus, from the Black Sea to the Sea of Marmara, at a rate of from two to six miles an hour; and although several geographers conclude from this that the level of the former is higher than that of the latter, this must by no means be looked upon as an established fact. We have already noticed the exchange between the waters of the Me­di­ter­ra­nean and of the open Atlantic, which takes place through the Strait of Gibraltar. A similar exchange is going on here, and the outflowing surface current is compensated for by an inflowing under-current.

The outlying houses and villas of Constantinople extend northwards along the Bosphorus as far as the two Genoese castles of Rumili-kavak and Anadoli-kavak. This extension coincides with the geological features of the ground, for no sooner have we turned our backs upon the houses than we find ourselves shut in between cliffs of dolerite and porphyry, which extend as far as the Black Sea, where they terminate in the precipices of the Cyaneæ, or Symplegades, the famous rocks which opened and shut, crushing the vessels that ventured to pass through the strait, until Minerva fixed them for ever. These volcanic rocks are barren, but the Devonian strata to the south of them are beautifully wooded. The Turks, unlike the Spaniards and other Southern nations, love and respect nature; plane-trees, cypresses, and pines still shade the shores of the Bosphorus; and the vast forest of Belgrade covers the hills to the east of Constantinople, from which the city draws its supply of water. Birds, too, are better protected than in many a Christian land. The plaintive cooing of doves is heard wherever we turn, flights of swallows and aquatic birds skim over the surface of the Bosphorus, and now and then we encounter a grave stork perched upon the top of a tree or of a minaret.

The whole aspect of the place is southerly, yet the climate of Constantinople has its rigour. The cold winds of the steppes of Russia freely penetrate through the strait, and the thermometer has been known to fall four degrees below zero in the winter. The neighbouring sea renders the climate more equable than it would otherwise be; but as the winds, from whatever direction they blow, meet with no obstacle, sudden changes of temperature are frequent. The average temperature varies very considerably in different years. Sometimes it sinks to the level of that of Pekin or Baltimore, at others it is as high as that of Toulon or of Nice. In exceptional cases the Bosphorus has become covered with ice, but thaws always set in rapidly, and then may be witnessed the magnificent spectacle of masses of ice striking against the walls of the Seraglio, and floating away across the Sea of Marmara. In A.D. 762 these masses of ice were so stupendous that they became wedged in the Dardanelles, and the tepid waters of the Ægean Sea then assumed the aspect of a bay of the Arctic Ocean.

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The geological features of the coast region of the Sea of Marmara differ essentially from those of the rest of Turkey. Low ranges of hills rise close to the coast, increasing in height towards the west, until they attain an elevation of 2,930 feet in the Tekir Dagh, or “holy mountains,” the grey slopes of which, covered here and there with patches of shrubs or pasturage, are visible from afar.

A narrow neck of land joins the peninsula of Gallipoli—the Thracian Chersonesus of the ancients—to this coast range. This peninsula is composed of quaternary rocks, which differ in no respect from those met with on the shore of Asia opposite. Anciently a huge fresh-water lake covered a portion of Thracia and more than half the area now occupied by the Ægean Sea. When the land first emerged above the waters, the Chersonesus formed an integral portion of Asia. Subsequently the waters of the Black Sea, which had forced themselves a passage through the Bosphorus, likewise found their way through the Hellespont into the Ægean Sea. The geological formation of the country and the configuration of the sea-bottom prove this to have been the case, and this irruption of the waters was attended, probably, by volcanic eruptions, traces of which still exist on the islands of the Sea of Marmara and near the mouth of the Maritza, the former to the east, the latter to the west of the peninsula.

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If the statements of Pliny and Strabo may be relied upon, the Hellespont must have been much narrower in former times than it is now. At Abydos—the modern Naghara—the width is said to have amounted to seven stadia, or less than a mile, anciently, whilst at the present time it is 6,500 feet. It was here Xerxes constructed his double bridge of boats. The strait is deep at that spot, and its current strong, but no wooden ship could hope to force a passage if covered by the guns in the batteries on both coasts. The Hellespont, like the Bosphorus, has two currents flowing through it. In winter, when the rivers which flow into the Black Sea are frozen up, and the Sea of Marmara is no longer fed by the waters of the Bosphorus, a highly saline under-current penetrates from the Ægean Sea into the Dardanelles, whilst a feebler current of comparatively fresh water flows in a contrary direction on the surface.29

Gallipoli, the Constantinople of the Hellespont, stands near the western extremity of the Sea of Marmara. It is the first city which the Turks captured upon the soil of Europe; but though they settled down there nearly a hundred years earlier than they did at Constantinople, they are no more in the majority here than they are in the capital. Gallipoli, like Rodosto and other towns on the Sea of Marmara, is inhabited by Mo­ham­me­dans of various races, by Greeks, Armenians, and Jews, forming separate communities dwelling within the walls of the same town. The country population consists almost exclusively of Greeks, who are the proprietors and cultivators of the land; and in sight of the coasts of Asia, and within that portion of the Balkan peninsula which has been longest under the rule of the Turk, the Greek is stronger numerically than anywhere else to the north of Mount Pindus. He does not there confine himself to the coast, and, if we except a few Bulgarian villages and the larger towns, the whole of Eastern Thracia belongs to him.

The lowlands of this region form a vast triangular plain, bounded by the Tekir Dagh and the coast range on the south, by offshoots from the Rhodope on the west, and by the granitic mountains of Stranja on the east. This is one of the dreariest districts of all Turkey. Swampy depressions and untilled land recall the steppes of Russia; and in summer, when the wind raises clouds of dust, we can imagine ourselves in the midst of a desert. The dreary monotony of this plain is relieved only by the pale contours of distant mountains, and by innumerable artificial mounds of unknown origin. So numerous are these tumuli that they form an essential feature of the landscape, and no artist could convey a just idea of it without introducing into his picture one or more of them.

Near the northern extremity of this unattractive plain, at the confluence of Maritza and Tunja, lies the city of Adrianople, enveloped in trees, whose sight delights the eye of the weary traveller. Adrianople, in reality, consists of a number of villages, separated from each other by orchards, poplars, and cypresses, above which peep out the minarets of some hundred and fifty mosques. The sparkling waters of the Maritza and Tunja, of rivulets and of aqueducts, lend animation to the picture, and render Adrianople one of the most delightful places. But it is more than this. It is the great centre of population in the interior of Turkey, and its favourable geographical position has always secured to the city a certain amount of importance. The ancient city of Orestis, the capital of the Kings of Thracia, stood on this site, and was succeeded by the Hadrianopolis of the Romans, which the Turks changed into Edirneh, and made their capital until Constantinople fell into their power. The old palace of the Sultan, built in the Persian style towards the close of the fourteenth century, still remains, though in a dilapidated condition. But here, likewise, the Osmanli are in the minority. The Greeks are their equals in numbers, and far surpass them in intelligence, whilst the Bulgarians, too, muster strongly, and, as in other towns of the East, we meet with a strange mixture of races, from Persian merchants down to gipsy musicians. The Jews are proportionately more numerous in Adrianople than in any other town of Turkey, and, strange to relate, they differ from their co-religionists in every other part of the world by a lack of smartness in business transactions. A local proverb says that “it requires ten Jews to hold their own against one Greek;” and not Greeks alone, for Wallachians, and even Bulgarians, are able to impose upon the poor Israelite at Adrianople.

The communications between Adrianople and Midea, the ancient Greek colony, famous for its subterranean temples, and with other cities on the Black Sea, are difficult. Its natural outlets are towards the south—on the one hand to Rodosto, on the Sea of Marmara; on the other, down the Maritza valley to the Gulf of Saros. The railway follows the latter, and the Rumelian Railway Company has constructed an artificial harbour at Dede Aghach, enabling merchantmen to lie alongside a pier. The allurements of commerce, however, have not hitherto induced the inhabitants of Enos to exchange their walled and turreted acropolis for the marshy tract on the Lower Maritza, with its deadly atmosphere.

The zone occupied by the Greeks grows narrower as we go west of the Maritza, where the Rhodope Mountains form a kind of international barrier. Only the coast is occupied there by Greek mariners and fishermen, whilst the hills in sight of it are held almost exclusively by Turkish and Bulgarian peasants and herdsmen. The marshy littoral districts, the small valleys on the southern slopes of the mountains, and a few isolated hills of volcanic or crystalline formation constitute a narrow band which connects the Greeks of Thracia with their compatriots of Chalcidice and Thessaly. The Yuruks, or “Wanderers,” a Turkish tribe which has retained its nomadic habits down to the present day, sometimes even extend their excursions to the sea-coast. Their principal seat is in the Pilav Tepe, a mountain mass to the north-west of Thasos, famous in the time of the Macedonian kings for its mines of gold and silver. A wide plain extends immediately to the west of these mountains, watered by the Strymon, or Karasu, and is of marvellous fertility. Seres, a considerable city, occupies its centre, and hundreds of villages, surrounded by orchards, rice, and cotton fields are scattered over it. Looked at from the heights of the Rhodope, this plain assumes the appearance of a huge garden-city. Unfortunately many parts of it are very insalubrious.

The triple peninsula of Chalcidice has no connection whatever with the Rhodope, and is attached to the mainland by an isthmus covered with lakes, swamps, and alluvial plains. It extends far into the sea like a huge hand spread out upon the waters. Chalcidice is a Greece in miniature, with coasts of fantastic contours, deep bays, bold promontories, and mountains rising in the midst of plains, like islands in an archipelago. One of these mountain masses rises in the trunk of the peninsula, and culminates in Mount Kortach, whilst each of its three ramifications possesses its own system of scarped hills. Greek in aspect, this curious appendage to the continent is Greek, too, in its population; and, a rare thing in Turkey, all its inhabitants are of the same race, if we except the Turks in the town of Nisvoro and the Slav monks of Mount Athos.

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The easternmost of the three tongues of land of Chalcidice, which jut out far into the waters of the Ægean, is almost entirely detached. Only a low and narrow neck of land connects it with the mainland, and it was across this isthmus that Xerxes dug a canal, 3,950 feet in length, either to enable his fleet to avoid the dangerous promontory of Mount Athos, or to give the awe-struck inhabitants a proof of his power. This is the peninsula of Hagion Oros, the Monte Santo of the Italians. At its extremity rises a limestone mountain, one of the most beautiful in the Eastern Me­di­ter­ra­nean. This is the famous Mount Athos, which an ancient sculptor proposed to convert into a statue of Alexander, holding a city in one hand and a spring in the other, and which Eastern legends point out as the “exceeding high mountain” to which the devil took Jesus, to show him “all the kingdoms of the world.” But whatever old legends may say, the panorama is not as vast as this, though the shores of Chalcidice, Macedonia, and Thracia lie spread out beneath our feet, and the eye can range across the blue waters of the Ægean Sea from Mount Olympus, in Thessaly, to Mount Ida, in Asia Minor. The bold outlines of the fortified monasteries which appear here and there, in the midst of chestnuts, oaks, or pines, on the slope of the mountain, contrast most happily with the faint outline of the coasts on the distant horizon.30

This peninsula, which a traveller has compared to a sphinx crouching upon the bosom of the sea, is the property of a republic of monks, who govern themselves according to their own fancy. In return for a tribute, which they pay to the Porte, they alone have the right to live there, and strangers require their permission before they are allowed to enter. A company of Christian soldiers is stationed at the neck of the peninsula to prevent the sacred soil being desecrated by the footsteps of a woman. Even the Turkish governor cannot gain admittance without leaving his harem behind him. For fourteen hundred years, we are told in the chronicles of Mount Athos, no female has set foot upon this sacred soil, and this prohibition extends to animals as well as to human beings. Even the presence of poultry would profane the monasteries, and the eggs eaten by the monks are imported from Lemnos. With the exception of a few purveyors, who reside at the village of Karyes, the 6,000 inhabitants of the peninsula are monks, or their servants, and they live in the monasteries, or in the hermitages attached to the 935 churches and chapels. Nearly all the monks are Greeks, but amongst the twenty large monasteries there are two which were built by the ancient sovereigns of Servia, and one which was founded by Russia. Most of these edifices occupy promontories, and, with their high walls and strong towers, they are exceedingly picturesque. One amongst them, that of Simopetra, appears to be almost inaccessible. It is in these retreats the good fathers of the order of St. Basil spend their lives in contemplative inaction. They are bound to pray eight hours in the day and two in the night, and during the whole of that time they are not allowed to sit. They have, therefore, neither time nor strength for study or manual labour. The books in their libraries are incomprehensible mysteries to them, and, in spite of their sobriety, they might die of starvation if there were not lay-brothers to work for them, and numerous farms on the mainland which are their property. A few shiploads of hazel nuts is all this fertile peninsula produces.

The ancient cities of Olynthus and Potidæa, on the neck of the western peninsula of Chalcidice, have dwindled down into insignificant villages; but the city of Therma, called afterwards Thessalonica, and now known as Saloniki, still exists, for its geographical position is most favourable, and after every siege and every conflagration it again rose from its ashes. Vestiges of every epoch of history may still be seen there: Cyclopean and Hellenic walls, triumphal arches, and remains of Roman temples, Byzantine structures, and Venetian castles. Its harbour is excellent, its roadstead well sheltered; and the high-roads into Upper Macedonia and Epirus lead from it along the valleys of the Vardar and Inje Karasu. These favourable circumstances have not been without their influence, and Saloniki, next to Constantinople and Adrianople, is the most important city of European Turkey. Its population is mixed, like that of other cities in the East, and Jews are exceptionally numerous. Most of them are the descendants of Spanish Jews, expelled by the Inquisition, and they still talk Spanish. Many have outwardly embraced Mo­ham­me­danism to escape persecution, but the true Mussulman spurns these converts with disdain. They are generally known as “Mamins.”

The commerce of Saloniki is important even now, but greater things are expected of the future. Like Marseilles, Trieste, and Brindisi, Saloniki aspires to become a connecting link in the trade between England and the East. It actually lies on the most direct road between the Channel and the Suez Canal, and once connected by railways with the rest of Europe, it is sure to take a large share in the world’s commerce. This emporium of Macedonia is interesting, too, from an ethnological point of view, for, with the exception of Burgaz, on the Black Sea, it is the only place where the Bulgarians, the most numerous race of European Turkey, have reached the sea-coast. Everywhere else they are cut off from it by alien races, but Saloniki brings them into direct contact with the remainder of Europe. Saloniki, however, not only suffers from bad government, but also from the marshes which surround it, and in summer many of its inhabitants flock to the healthier town of Kalameria, to the west. Miasmatic swamps unfortunately occupy a large portion of the northern coast of the Ægean, and they separate the interior of Macedonia more effectively from the coast than do its mountains. There is hardly any commerce except at Saloniki.

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On the western shores of the Gulf of Saloniki, beyond the ever-changing mouths of the Vardar and the briny waters of the Inje Karasu, or Haliacmon, the land gradually rises. Hills are succeeded by mountains, until bold precipices approach close to the coast, and summit rises beyond summit, up to the triple peak of Mount Olympus. Amongst the many mountains which have borne this name, this is the highest and the most beautiful, and the Greeks placed upon it the court of Jupiter and the residence of the gods. It was in the plains of Thessaly, in the shadow of this famous mountain, that the Greeks lived in the springtide of their history, and their most cherished traditions attach themselves to this beautiful country. The mountains which had sheltered the cradle of their race remained to them for ever afterwards the seat of their protecting deities. But Jupiter, Bacchus, and the other great gods of antiquity have disappeared now, and monasteries have been built in the woods which witnessed the revels of the Bacchantes.

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Until recently the upper valleys of Mount Olympus were inhabited only by monks, and by klephtes, or bandits, who sought shelter there from the Arnaut soldiers sent in their pursuit. The mountain, in fact, constitutes a world apart, surrounded on all sides by formidable declivities. Forty-two peaks form the battlements of this mountain citadel, fifty-two springs rise within it, and the bold klepht is secure within its fastnesses from the abhorred Turk. Magnificent forests of laurel-trees, planes, and oaks cover its lower maritime slopes, and in times of trouble they have served as a refuge to entire populations. But Italian speculators have purchased these forests, and the time is not, perhaps, very distant when Mount Olympus, deprived of its verdure, will be reduced to a barren mass of rock, like most of the mountains of the Archipelago. Wild cats abound on the lower slopes of Olympus, chamois still climb its rugged pinnacles, but bears are no longer met with: St. Denys, who dwelt upon the mountain, required beasts to ride upon, and changed them into horses!

Xenagoras, an ancient geometrician, was the first to measure the height of Mount Olympus, but his result, 6,200 feet, is far from the truth, for the highest summit attains an elevation of 9,750 feet.31 It may possibly be the culminating point of the Balkan peninsula. Snow remains in some of its crevices throughout the year, and no human being hitherto appears to have succeeded in ascending its highest pinnacle. According to the Greek legend, even Pelion heaped upon Ossa did not enable the Titans to reach the abode of the gods, and, in reality, the combined height of these two mountains hardly exceeds that of Olympus. But, in spite of this inferior height, “pointed” Ossa and “long-stretched” Pelion, known to us moderns as Kisovo and Zagora, impress the beholder, because of their savage valleys, their precipitous walls of rock, and cliffy promontories.

These mountains continue southward through the hook-shaped peninsula of Magnesia, and terminate opposite the island of Eubœa. They formed a strong bulwark of defence in the time of ancient Greece. The hordes of the barbarians stopped in front of this insurmountable barrier. They were compelled to seek a practicable road to the west of it, through the valley of the Peneus, which is rightly looked upon as the natural frontier of Hellas. Hence the great strategical importance of Pharsalus, in Southern Thessaly, which protects the gorges of the Othrys and the only access to the plains of the Sperchius. The pass of Petra, at the northern extremity of Olympus, was carefully guarded for similar reasons.

A large portion of the area bounded by the crystalline rocks of Olympus and Ossa, and by the cretaceous range of the Pindus, running parallel with the former, consists of plains originally covered by vast lakes. The Gulf of Volo approaches close to the shrunken remains of one of these lakes—that of Karla, or Bœbeis—into which the waters of the swampy plain of Larissa discharge themselves. The dwellers on the shores of this lake say that a dull rumbling noise may now and then be heard at its bottom, which they ascribe to the bellowing of some invisible animal, but which is more probably the gurgling sound of the water penetrating into a sink-hole. Other lake basins are met with at the foot of Olympus towards the west and north-west, and some of the valleys of the upper tributaries of the Peneus are covered with alluvium left behind by the receding waters. Hercules, according to some—Neptune, according to others—drained all these lakes of Thessaly into the Ægean, by opening the narrow gorge between Olympus and Ossa, known to the ancients as the Valley of Tempe. This narrow valley is due, no doubt, to the slow erosive action of water. To the Hellenes it realised their ideals of refreshing coolness and beauty, and once every nine years an embassy arrived from Delphi to pluck the laurel-leaves destined for the victors in the Pythian games. The Valley of Tempe is indeed most beautiful; the transparent and rapid waters of the Peneus, the foliage of the planes, the shrubberies of laurel-roses, and the red-hued cliffs—these combine frequently, and form pictures which delight the senses and impress the mind. But, taken as a whole, this narrow and sombre valley fairly deserves its modern name of Lykostomo, or “wolf’s gorge.” Even in Thessaly, and, above all, in the Pindus, there are localities more smiling and more beautiful than this famous Valley of Tempe.

The upper valleys of the Peneus, or Salembria, abound in natural curiosities, such as defiles, sinks, and caverns. To the north-west of Mount Olympus, the turbid Titaresius flows through the narrow gorge of Saranta Poros, or of the Four Fords, which was looked upon in former times as one of the gates of hell.

To the west, on the Upper Peneus, are the limestone hills of Khassia, rising to a height of 5,000 feet, and the elevated spurs of Mount Pindus, which have become celebrated through the “works of the gods,” or theoktista, which surmount them. These “works” consist of isolated towers, crags, and pillars, the most famous amongst them being those on the banks of the Peneus, not far from Trikala. Zealous followers of Simeon the Stylite conceived the idea of building their monasteries on the tops of some of the larger of these natural columns or pedestals. Perched on these heights, and condemned never to leave them, they receive their provisions and visitors in a basket attached to the end of a long rope, and hoisted aloft by means of a windlass. An aërial voyage of no less than 220 feet has to be performed in order to reach in this manner the monastery of Barlaam, and visitors are at liberty to effect this ascent by means of ladders fastened against the rocky precipices. The religious zeal, however, which led monks to select these eyries for their habitations is gradually dying out. Out of twenty monasteries which existed formerly, there remain now but seven, and only one of these, that of Meteora, is inhabited by as many as twenty monks.

Of all the Greek countries which still remain under the dominion of the Turks, there is none which has so frequently sought to regain its independence, none which is claimed by the Hellenes with equal ardour as a portion of their common fatherland and the cradle of their race. Thessaly is, in truth, a portion of Greece, as far as the traditions of the past, a common language, and the general aspects of the country can make it so. But it is a more fertile country, its vegetation is more luxuriant, its landscapes are more smiling and delightful. We may not frequently meet with the deep blue sky which calls forth our admiration in Southern Greece, for the vapours rising from the Ægean Sea are attracted by Olympus and other mountains; but this moisture imparts a charm to distant views, and, by protecting the earth against the scorching rays of the sun in summer, it contributes largely towards the fertility of the soil.

The Greek population of Thessaly is strongly mixed with foreign elements, which it has gradually assimilated. Neither Serbs nor Bulgarians remain now in the country, although the Upper Titaresius is known as Vurgari, or “river of the Bulgarians.” The Zinzares, or Macedo-Walakhs, who were so numerous in the Middle Ages, now only occupy a few villages. Though proud of their Roman descent, they gradually become Hellenized. Most of the words by which they designate objects of civilised life are Greek, their priests and schoolmasters preach or teach in Greek, and they themselves speak Greek in addition to their native language. They lose ground, moreover, through an excessive emigration. Even the cultivators of the soil amongst them have not quite given up their nomadic habits, and the roving life of a herdsman or of a pedlar exercises an irresistible attraction upon them. The Turks inhabit in compact masses the lowlands around Larissa, and that town itself is Mussulman to a large extent. The hilly tracts to the north, between the Inje Karasu and the Lakes of Kastoria and Ostrovo, are likewise inhabited by Turks, who differ from the Osmanli of the rest of the empire, and are known as Koniarides. Turks also occupy a portion of Mount Ossa. It is easy to tell from a distance whether a village is inhabited by Turks or by Greeks. M. Mézières has observed that “the Turks plant trees for the sake of shade, the Greeks for the sake of profit.” Near the villages of the former we find cypresses and plane-trees, near those of the latter orchards and vineyards. The Koniarides are believed by some authors to have come to Thessaly and Macedonia as colonists in the eleventh century, by invitation of the Eastern emperor. They govern themselves through democratic representative bodies, and are respected by all, because of their probity, their hospitality, and their rustic virtues.

The Greeks are morally inferior to the Turkish peasantry, but they surpass them in intelligence and industry. In the seventeenth century there took place amongst them even a sort of revival similar to the Renaissance of Western Europe, and the love of art was developed sufficiently far to give rise to a school of painters in the villages of Olympus. Faithful to their national traditions and the instincts of their race, the Greeks of Thessaly have sought to organize themselves into self-governing commonwealths. In their free towns, or kephalokhori, they are permitted to elect their town councils, establish schools, and appoint what teachers they like. They know how to get the Turkish pasha not to meddle in their local affairs. They pay the taxes demanded by the Turks, as their ancestors paid them to Athens or some other Greek city, but in every other respect they are free citizens governing themselves. The contrast between these independent commonwealths and the chifliks of Mussulman proprietors cultivated by Greek farmers is most striking. The land of the free proprietors is, as a rule, far less fertile than that included within these chifliks; yet it produces more, and its cultivators live in comparative ease.

The Greeks of Thessaly bestow much care upon the education of growing generations. Even the most miserable Greek village in the Pindus can boast of a school, which is visited by the young people up to the age of fifteen. As an instance of the commercial spirit of the Thessalians we may mention the Weavers’ Co-operative Association, formed in the last century in the town of Ambelakia, delightfully situated amongst orchards and vineyards on the southern slopes of the Valley of Tempe. This powerful association wisely limited its dividends to six per cent., and expended the surplus profits upon an extension of its business. For many years it enjoyed the greatest prosperity, but the wars of the empire, which closed the markets of Germany against it, brought about its ruin. Co-operation likewise partly accounts for the flourishing cloth manufacture of the twenty-four wealthy Greek villages on the peninsula of Magnesia, to the north of the Gulf of Volo. This district, together with that of Verria, to the north of the Inje Karasu, is probably the most prosperous in all the Greek provinces of Turkey, and it is at least partly indebted for this prosperity to its happy geographical position, being far away from great strategical high-roads.32

IV — Albania and Epirus

The name of SHKIPERI, which the Albanians give to the country they inhabit, is supposed to mean “land of rocks,” and no designation could be more appropriate. Stony mountains occupy the whole of the country, from the frontiers of Montenegro to those of Greece. The only plain of any extent is that of Scutari (Shkodra), to the south of the Montenegrin plateau, which forms the natural frontier of Albania towards the north. The bottom of this depression is occupied by the Lake of Scutari; and the Drin, the only river of the Balkan peninsula which is navigable for a considerable distance from the sea, debouches upon it. The Drin is formed by the junction of the White and the Black Drin, and in former times it only discharged a portion of its waters temporarily into the Boyana River, which drains the Lake of Scutari. But in 1858 it opened itself a new channel opposite to the village of Miet, about twenty miles above its mouth, and since that time the greater volume of its waters flows in the direction of Scutari, frequently inundating the lower quarters of that town. The marshy tracts on the Lower Drin are dangerous to cross during the heat of summer, and the fevers of the Boyana are the most dreaded along the whole of that coast.

Most of the southern ramifications of the Bosnian Alps are inhabited by Albanians, but they are separated from their kinsmen in Albania proper by the deep valley of the Drin, a kind of cañon similar to those of the Rocky Mountains, enclosed between precipitous walls several thousand feet in height, and hardly ever trodden by the foot of a wanderer. The mountain systems of Bosnia and Albania are only indirectly connected by a series of ranges and plateaux stretching from the mountain of Glieb in a south-easterly direction as far as the Skhar, or Scardus of the ancients. The crest of this latter runs at right angles to most of the ranges of Western Turkey, and although its culminating point is inferior in height to those of Slav Turkey, it is the point of junction between the Balkan and the mountain systems of Bosnia and Albania. The Skhar is of great importance, too, in the hydrography of Turkey; for two great rivers, the Bulgarian Morava and the Vardar, descend from its flanks, one flowing to the Danube, the other to the Gulf of Saloniki. Chamois and wild goats are still met with in the Skhar, as in the Pindus and Rhodope, and M. Wiet mentions an animal known to the Mirdits as a lucerbal, which appears to be a species of leopard.

A mountain region, hardly 3,000 feet in elevation, but exceedingly difficult of access, rises to the west of the Skhar, on the other side of the Black Drin: this is the citadel of Upper Albania, the country of the Mirdits and Dukajins. Enormous masses of serpentine have erupted there through the chalk, the valleys are hemmed in by bold precipices, and the torrents rapidly run down the hollowed-out beds on the exterior slopes. As a rule, the direction of the tortuous ranges of this mountain country is the same as that of the southern spurs of the Skhar. They gradually decrease in height, enclosing fine upland valleys, where the waters are able to accumulate. The Lake of Okhrida, the largest sheet of water in Upper Albania, has not inaptly been likened to the Lake of Geneva. Its waters are bluer even than those of its Swiss rival, and more transparent, and fish may be seen chasing each other at a depth of sixty feet beneath its surface: hence its ancient Greek name of Lychnidos. The delightful little town of Okhrida and Mount Pieria, with its old Roman castle, guard its shores, and the white houses of numerous villages peep out amongst the chestnut forests which cover the slopes of the surrounding hills. This lake is drained towards the north through the narrow valley of the Black Drin. If the statements of the inhabitants may be credited, the waters of the double basin of Lake Presba reach Lake Okhrida through subterranean channels.

The isolated peak of Tomor commands this lake region on the west. To the south of it commences the chain of the Pindus, locally known as Grammos. At first of moderate height, and crossed by numerous mountain roads affording easy communication between Albania and Macedonia, these mountains gradually increase in height as we proceed south, and exactly to the east of Yanina they form the mountain mass of Metzovo, with which the Pindus, properly so called, takes its rise. This mountain mass is inferior in altitude to the peaks of Bosnia or Northern Albania, but it is far more picturesque than either, its slopes being covered with forests of conifers and beech-trees, and the plains extending along its foot having a more southern aspect. Mount Zygos, or Lachmon, which rises in the centre of this mountain mass, does not afford a very extended panorama, but if we climb the craggy peaks of the Peristera-Vuna, or Smolika, near it, we are able to look at the same time upon the waters of the Ægean and Ionian Seas, and even the shore of Greece may be descried beyond the Gulf of Arta.

A famous lake occupies the bottom of the limestone basin at the western foot of the mountain mass of Metzovo. This is the Lake of Yanina, and nowhere else throughout Epirus do we meet with an equal number of natural curiosities as on the shores of this lake. Its depth is inconsiderable, nowhere exceeding forty feet, and it is fed only by numerous springs rising at the foot of the rocks. There is no visible outlet; but Colonel Leake assures us that each of the two basins into which it is divided is drained by a subterranean channel. The northern lake pours its waters into a sink, or voinikova, and reappears towards the south-west as a considerable river, which flows into the Ionian Sea. This is the Thyamis of the ancients, our modern Kalamas. Farther to the south the ancient Acheron bursts from the rocks, and having received the nauseous waters of the equally famous Cocytus, throws itself into the “bay of sweet waters,” thus called on account of the large volume of water discharged into it by rivers.

Μ

When the waters of the southern and larger basin of Lake Yanina are low, there is but a single effluent, which plunges down into an abyss, and in doing so turns the wheels of a mill. The Cyclopean ruins of the Pelasgic city of Hellas command this huge chasm with its roaring waters. The subterranean river reappears far to the south, and flows into the Gulf of Arta. But when the level of the lake is high, four other sinks swallow up its superabundant waters, and convey them into the main channel, the direction of which is indicated by a few small lakes. The important part played in the mythology of ancient Greece by these subterranean effluents, and particularly by the infernal Acheron and the Cocytus, amply proves the influence exercised by the Pelasgians upon the civilisation of the Hellenes. The myths of the Hellopians became the common property of all Greece, and there was no temple in all Hellas more venerated than their sanctuary at Dodona, where the future might be foretold by listening to the rustling of the leaves of sacred oaks. This sacred grove existed, probably, near one of the Cyclopean towns so numerous in the country, if not on the shore of the lake itself. Some, erroneously no doubt, have looked for it near the castle inhabited in the beginning of this century by Ali Tepeleni, the terrible Pasha of Epirus, who boasted of being a “lighted torch, devouring man.”

The mountains of Suli, to the west of the basin of Yanina, attain an altitude of 3,500 feet, but the neighbouring hills are of moderate height, though abrupt and difficult of access, and near the coast they sink down into small rocky promontories, scantily clothed with shrubs and overrun by jackals. Swamps abound near the shore, and during summer their miasmatic air spreads over the neighbouring villages. To the north of the swamps of Butrinto and of the channel of Corfu, and to the west of the isolated peak of Kundusi, however, the coast rises again, and the austere chain of the Chimæra Mala, or Acroceraunii, extends along it. It was dreaded by the ancients on account of its tempests, and the torrents which poured down its sides. Squalls and changes of wind are frequent near the “Tongue (Linguetta) of Rocks,” the most advanced promontory of this coast, at the entrance to the Adriatic Sea. These are the “infamous rocks” referred to by the Roman poet, upon which many a vessel suffered shipwreck. The channel which separates Turkey at that place from Italy has a width of only 45 miles; it is less than 100 fathoms in depth, and at some former period an isthmus may have united the two countries.33

The Shkipetars, or Albanians, are subdivided into two leading tribes or nations, the Tosks and the Gheges, both of whom are no doubt descended from the ancient Pelasgians, but have in many places become mixed with Slavs, Bulgarians, and Rumanians, and perhaps even with other nations; for whilst in some tribes we meet with the purest Hellenic types, there are others the members of which are repulsively ugly. The Gheges are the purest of their race, and they occupy, under various tribal names, the whole of Northern Albania as far as the river Shkumbi. The territory of the Tosks extends from that river southward. The dialects of these two nations differ much, and it is not easy for an Acroceraunian to understand a Mirdit or other Albanian from the north. Gheges and Tosks detest each other. In the Turkish army they are kept separated for fear of their coming to blows, and, when an insurrection has to be suppressed amongst them, the Turkish Government always avails itself of these tribal jealousies, and is certain of being served with the zeal and fury which hatred inspires.

Up to the period of the migration of the barbarians, the whole of Western Turkey, as far as the Danube, was held by Albanians. But they were then pushed back, and Albania was entirely occupied by Servians and Bulgarians. The names of numerous localities throughout the country recall that period of obscuration, during which the name of an indigenous race was not even mentioned by the historian. But when the Osmanli had broken the power of the Serb, the Albanians again raised their heads, and ever since they have kept encroaching upon their Slav neighbours. In the north they have gradually descended into the valley of the Bulgarian Morava, and one of their colonies has even penetrated into independent Servia. Like the waters of a rising ocean, they overwhelm the detached tracts of territory still occupied by Servians. This progress of the Albanians is explained, to a great extent, by the voluntary expatriation of the Servians. Thousands of them, headed by their patriarchs, fled to Hungary, in order to escape the dominion of the Turks, and the Albanians occupied the wastes they left behind. The Servians still hold their ground near Acroceraunia, on the shores of Lake Okhrida, and in the hills looking down upon the fatal plain of Kosovo, where their ancestors were massacred; but they gradually become Albanians in language, religion, and customs. They speak of themselves as Turks, as do the Arnauts, and apply the name of Servian only to the Christians dwelling beyond the frontier. On the other hand, many of the customs of the Gheges agree in a remarkable manner with those of their Slav neighbours, and this proves that there has taken place a thorough blending of the two races.

But whilst the Albanians are gaining ground in the north, they are losing it in the south. A large portion of the inhabitants of Southern Albania, though undoubtedly of Pelasgic origin, are Greek by language. Arta, Yanina, and Prevesa are Hellenized towns, and only a few Mo­ham­me­dan families there still speak Albanian. Nearly the whole of the tract between the Pindus and the Adriatic coast ranges has become Greek as far as language goes, and throughout the mountain region extending westward to the sea the inhabitants are “bilingual;” that is to say, they speak two languages. The famous Suliotes, for instance, who talk Tosk within the bosom of their family, make use of Greek in their intercourse with strangers. Wherever the two races come into contact, it is always the Albanian who takes the trouble to learn Greek.

This influence of the Hellenes is all the more powerful as it meets with support amongst the Zinzares, known also as Macedo-Walakhs, “Limping” Walakhs, or Southern Rumanians, who are met with throughout the country. These Zinzares are the kinsmen of the Rumanians of Wallachia and Moldavia, and live in a compact body only on the two slopes of the Pindus, to the south and east of the Lake of Yanina. Like the Rumanians of the Danube, they are most probably Latinised Dacians. They resemble the Walakhs in features, character, and disposition, and speak a neo-Latin tongue much mixed with Greek. The Zinzares in the valleys of the Pindus are, for the most part, herdsmen, and wander away from their villages sometimes for months. Others carry on trades, exhibiting much manual skill and intelligence. Nearly all the bricklayers of Turkey, those of the large towns excepted, are Zinzares; and the same individual sometimes erects an entire house, doing in turn the work of architect, carpenter, joiner, and locksmith. The Rumanians of the Pindus are likewise esteemed as clever goldsmiths.

Their capacity for business is great, and the commerce of the interior of Turkey is almost entirely in their hands, as is that of the maritime districts in those of the Greeks. The Walakhs of Metzovo are said to have stood formerly under the direct protection of the Porte, and every traveller, whether Mussulman or Christian, was bound to unshoe his horses before he left their territory, for fear “of his carrying away a clod of earth which did not belong to him.” Commercial houses conducted by Walakhs of the Pindus are met with in every town of the Orient, and even at Vienna one of the most influential banks has been founded by one of them. Abroad they are generally taken for Greeks, and the wealthier amongst them send their children to Athens to be educated. Surrounded by Mussulmans, the Zinzares of the Pindus feel the necessity of attaching themselves to some country through which they might obtain their freedom, and they hope for a union with Greece. It is only quite recently that they have learnt to look upon the Rumanians of the North and the Italians as their kinsmen. They do not, however, set much store upon their nationality, and have no aspirations as a distinct race. There can be no doubt that in the course of ages many of these Macedo-Walakhs have become Hellenized. Nearly all Thessaly was inhabited by Zinzares in the Middle Ages, and Byzantine authors speak of that country as “Great Wallachia.” Whether these Zinzares have emigrated to Rumania, as some think, or have become assimilated with the Greeks, the fact remains that at the present day they are not very numerous on the eastern slopes of the Pindus. Thousands of Rumanian families have settled in the coast towns, at Avlona, Berat, and Tirana, embracing Mo­ham­me­danism, but still retaining their native idiom.

If we exclude these Zinzares, the Greeks of Epirus, the Servians, and the few Osmanli dwelling in the large towns, there remain only the semi-barbarous Gheges and Tosks, whose social condition has hardly undergone any change in the course of three thousand years. In their manners and modes of thought these modern Albanians are the true successors of the ancient Pelasgians, and many a scene that a traveller may witness amongst them carries him back to the days of the Odyssey. G. von Hahn, who has most thoroughly studied the Shkipetars, looks upon them as veritable Dorians, whose ancestors, led by the Heraclidæ, burst forth from the forests of Epirus to conquer the Peloponnesus. They are as courageous, as warlike, as fond of dominion, and as clannish as were their ancestors. Their dress, likewise, is nearly the same, and the white tunic (fustanelle) neatly fastened round the waist fairly represents the ancient chlamys. The Gheges, like the Dorians of old, are addicted to that mysterious passion which the historians of antiquity have confounded, unfortunately, with a nameless vice, and which links men to children by a pure and ideal love, in which the senses have no part.

There is no modern people respecting whom more astounding acts of bravery are recorded than of the Albanians. In the fifteenth century they had their Scanderbeg, who, though the theatre of his glory was more circumscribed than that of his namesake of Macedonia, was hardly inferior to him in genius, and certainly surpassed him in justness and goodness of heart. Or what nation has ever exceeded in courage the Suliote mountaineers, amongst whom not an aged man, a woman, or a child was found to beg for mercy from Ali Pasha’s executioners? The heroism of these Suliote women, who set fire to the ammunition waggons, and then hand in hand precipitated themselves from the rocks, or sought death in the mountain torrents, chanting their own funeral song, will at all times stand forth in history as an astounding fact.

This valour, unfortunately, is associated amongst many tribes with a fearful amount of savageness. Human life is held cheap amongst these warlike populations; blood calls for blood, and victim for victim. They believe in vampires and phantoms, and occasionally an old man has been burnt alive, on suspicion of his being able to kill by the breath of his mouth. Slavery does not exist, but woman is held in a state of servitude; she is looked upon as an inferior being, having no rights or mind of her own. Custom raises a more formidable barrier between the sexes than do walls and locked doors elsewhere. A young girl is not permitted to speak to a young man; such an act is looked upon as a crime, which her father or brother may feel called upon to punish by a deed of blood. The parents sometimes consult the wishes of their son when about to marry him, but never those of their daughter. The latter is frequently affianced in her cradle, and, when twelve years of age, she is handed over to a young man on his presenting a wedding outfit and a sum of money fixed by custom, and averaging twenty shillings. From that moment he becomes the absolute master of his bride, though not without first going through the farce of an abduction, as is customary amongst nearly all ancient nations. The poor woman, thus sold like a slave, is bound to work for her husband. She is his housekeeper as well as his labourer, and the national poets compare her to the “ever-active shuttle,” whilst the father of the family is likened to the “majestic ram marching at the head of the flock.” Yet woman, scorned though she be, and brutalised by heavy work, may traverse the whole country without fear of being insulted, and the life of an unfortunate who places himself under her protection is held sacred.

Family ties are very powerful amongst the Albanians. The father retains the rights of sovereign lord up to an advanced age, and as long as he lives the earnings of his children and grandchildren are his own. Frequently this communism continues after his death, the eldest son taking his place. The loss of a member of the family, and particularly of a young man, gives rise to fearful lamentations amongst the women, who frequently swoon away, and even lose their senses. But the death of persons who have reached the natural limits of human life is hardly mourned at all. The descendants of the same ancestor never lose sight of their parentage. They form clans, called phis or pharas, which are bound firmly together for purposes of defence or attack, or in the pursuit of their common interests. Brotherhood by election is known amongst the Albanians, as well as amongst the Servians and other ancient nations, and its ties are as strong as those of blood. Young men desirous of becoming brothers bind themselves by solemn vows in the presence of their families, and, having opened a vein, they drink each other’s blood. The need of these family bonds is felt so strongly in Albania, that young people brought up together frequently remain united during the remainder of their lives, forming a regular community, having its days of meetings, its festivals, and a common purse.

But in spite of these family associations and clans, in spite of the enthusiastic love which the Albanian bears his native land, there exists no political cohesion amongst the various tribes. The physical conditions of the country, no less than an unhappy passion for war, have scattered their forces, and rendered them unable, consequently, to maintain their independence. The religious animosities between Mussulman and Christian, Greek and Roman Catholic, have contributed to the like result.

It is generally supposed that the majority of the Albanians are Mo­ham­me­dans. When the Turks became masters of the country the most valiant amongst them fled to Italy, and the greater part of the tribes that remained behind were compelled to embrace Islamism. Many of the chiefs, moreover, turned Mussulmans, in order that they might continue their life of brigandage, on pretence of carrying on a holy war. This accounts for the fact of the aristocracy of the country being for the most part Mo­ham­me­dan, and in possession of the land. The Christian peasant who tills it is nominally a free man, but in reality he is at the mercy of his lord, who keeps him at the point of starvation. These Albanian Mussulmans, however, are fanatic warriors rather than religious zealots, and many of their ceremonies, particularly those connected with their native land, differ in nothing from those of their Christian compatriots. They have been converted, but not convinced, and cynically they say of themselves that their “sword is wherever their faith is.”

In many districts the conversion has been nominal only, and zealous Christians have continued to conduct their worship in secret. Many Mo­ham­me­dans of this class returned to the faith of their fathers as soon as the tolerance of Government permitted them to do so. As to the warlike mountain clans, the Mirdits, Suliotes, and Acroceraunians, they had no need to bend to the will of the Turks, and remained Greek or Roman Christians. The boundary between Gheges and Tosks coincides approximately with the boundary between these two denominations, the Roman Catholics living to the north of the Shkumbi, the orthodox Greeks to the south of the river. The Hellenes and Zinzares in Southern Albania are orthodox Greeks. The hatred between these two denominations of Christians is intense, and this is the principal reason why the Albanians have not succeeded in regaining their independence, as have the Servians.

Southern Albania and Epirus had feudal institutions up to the close of last century. The chiefs of the clans and the semi-independent Turkish pashas lived in strong castles perched upon the rocks, from which they descended from time to time, followed by bands of servitors. War existed in permanence, and property changed hands continuously, according to the fortunes of the sword. Ali the Terrible, of Yanina, put a stop to this state of affairs. He reduced high and low to the same level of servitude, and the central Government now wields the power formerly exercised by lords and heads of families.

If we would become acquainted with a social condition recalling the Middle Ages, we must go amongst the independent tribes of Northern Albania. On crossing the Matis we at once perceive a change. Every one goes armed; shepherds and labourers carry a carbine on the shoulder; and even women and children place a pistol in their belts. Families, clans, and tribes have a military organization, and at a moment’s notice are ready to take the field. A sheep missing in a flock, an insult offered in the heat of passion, may lead to war. Not long since the Montenegrin was the most frequent disturber of the peace, for, shut up in his sterile mountains, he was often obliged to turn brigand in order to sustain life, and laid under contribution the fields of his neighbours. The Turks have at all times nourished this hatred between Albanians and Montenegrins. They recompense the warlike services of the tribes of the border clans by exempting them from taxation, and allowing them to govern themselves according to their own laws. Let these immunities be touched, and they will make common cause with their hereditary foes of the Black Mountains.

The Mirdits are typical of the independent tribes of Northern Albania. They inhabit the high valleys to the south of the gorge of the Drin, and, though hardly numbering 12,000 souls, they exercise, in consequence of their warlike valour, a most important influence in all Western Turkey. Their country is accessible only through three difficult defiles, and they hold command of the roads which the Turkish troops must follow when operating against the Montenegrins. The Sublime Porte, well aware how difficult it would be to subdue these redoubtable mountaineers, has endeavoured to attach them, showering honours upon them, and granting them the most complete self-government. The Mirdits, on their side, though Christians, have at all times fought most valiantly in the ranks of the Turkish army, in Greece and the Morea, as well as against their fellow-Christians of Montenegro. They are formed into three “banners” of the mountains and two of the plains, and in time of war are joined by the five banners of Lesh, or Alessio. The banner of the renowned clan of Orosh takes precedence of all others.

The country of the Mirdits is governed by an oligarchy, of which the Prince or Pasha of Orosh is the hereditary head. His power, however, is merely nominal, for in reality the country is governed by a council consisting of the elders (vecchiardi) of the villages, the delegates of the banners, and the heads of clans. The proceedings of this council are regulated by ancient traditions. Wives are taken by force from the enemy, for the members of the five banners look upon each other as relatives, and the Mo­ham­me­dan girls in the lowland villages look forward with little fear to their being carried off by Mirdit warriors. The vendetta is exercised in an inexorable manner, and blood cries for blood. A violation of hospitality is punished with death. The adulteress is buried beneath a heap of stones, and her nearest relative is bound to deliver the head of her accomplice to the injured husband. It need hardly be said that education is at a very low ebb amongst these savages. There are no schools, and in 1860 hardly fifty Christians of the Mirdit country and of the district of Lesh were able to read. Agriculture, nevertheless, is in a relatively advanced state. The valleys of the sterile mountains are cultivated with a certain amount of care, and they produce finer crops than do the fertile plains, inhabited by an indolent population.

By a strange contrast, these direct descendants of the ancient Pelasgians, to whom we are indebted for the beginning of civilisation in Europe, still number amongst the most savage populations of our continent. But they, too, must yield in time to the influence of their surroundings. Until recently the Epirotes and southern Shkipetars left their country only in order to lead the easy but degrading life of mercenaries. In the last century the young men of Acroceraunia sold themselves to the King of Naples, to be embodied in his regiment of “Royal Macedonians;” and even in our own days not only Mo­ham­me­dans, but also Christian Tosks, enter the service of pashas and beys. These men, known as Arnauts, may be met with in the most remote parts of the empire—in Armenia, at Bagdad, and in Arabia. On the expiration of their term of service, the majority of these veterans retire to estates granted them by Government, and this accounts for the large number of Arnaut villages met with in all parts of the empire.

But wars are less frequent now, the life of a mercenary offers fewer advantages, and increasing numbers of Albanians leave their country annually in order to gain a living abroad by honest labour. Like the Swiss of the canton of Grisons, many Shkipetars descend from their mountains at the commencement of winter in order to work for wages in the plains. Most of these return to their mountain homes in spring, enriched by their earnings; but there are others who remain abroad for years, or who never return. The advantages of a division of labour appear to be well understood by these mountaineers of Epirus and Southern Albania, and each mountain valley is noted for the exercise of some special craft. One valley sends forth butchers, another bakers, a third gardeners. A village near Argyrokastro supplies Constantinople with most of its well-sinkers. The district of Zagori, perhaps the home of the ancient Asclepiads, sends its doctors, or rather “bone-setters,” into every town of Turkey. Many of these emigrants, when they become wealthy, return to their native land, where they build themselves fine houses in the midst of sterile mountains, and these take the places of the old seigneurial towers, which were erected only for purposes of defence.

The Albanians are thus being carried along by a general movement of progress, and if once they enter into the common life of Europe, we may expect them to play a prominent part, for they possess a penetrating mind and much strength of character. The Albanians enjoy the advantage of having ready access to the sea, but hitherto they have derived only small benefit from it, not only owing to the disturbed state of the country and the absence of roads, but also because of the alluvial deposits formed by the rivers and the malaria of the marshes. Still, making every allowance for these disadvantages, they hardly account for the almost entire absence of maritime enterprise. One would scarcely fancy these Epirotes and Gheges to be of the same race as those Hydriote corsairs who launched whole fleets upon the waters of the Archipelago at the time of the war for Hellenic independence, and who still maintain the foremost place amongst the mariners of Greece. The ports of Albania—Antivari, Porto Medua (one of the safest on the Adriatic), Durazzo, Avlona, Parga (lost in a forest of citron-trees), and even strong Prevesa, surrounded by more than a hundred thousand olive-trees—can boast but of a trifling commerce, and two-thirds of that are carried on in Austrian vessels from Trieste. With the exception of the Acroceraunians and the inhabitants of Dulcigno, which is the port of Scutari, no Mo­ham­me­dan Albanian ventures upon the sea, not even as a fisherman. In spite of the fertility of the soil, there are hardly any articles to export. The mines of the country are unexplored, agriculture is in a most backward state, and in Epirus hardly any industry is known except the rearing of sheep and goats.

At the time of the Romans these countries were equally forsaken. There was one magnificent city, Nicopolis, built by Augustus on a promontory to the north of the modern Prevesa to commemorate his victory at Actium. The only other town of importance was Dyrrhachium, called Durazzo by the Italians. It formed the terminus of the Via Egnatia, which traversed the whole of the Balkan peninsula from west to east, and constituted the great highway between Italy and the Orient. Avlona may aspire one day to take the place of ancient Dyrrhachium. Its geographical position is superior to that of Durazzo, for it is nearer to Italy, and its deep and secure harbour enjoys the shelter of the island of Suseno and of the Linguetta of Acroceraunia.

In the meantime all the commerce of the country is concentrated in Scutari and Yanina, and in some other towns of the interior. The most considerable amongst the latter are Prisrend, at the foot of the Skhar, whose nobles boast of their magnificent dresses and fine weapons; Ipek (Pech), Prishtina, Jakovitza (Yakova), in the north-eastern portion of the country, and on roads which lead from Macedonia into Bosnia. Nearer the coast are Tirana, Berat, and Elbasan, the ancient Albanon, whose name recalls that of the entire country. Gyorcha (Koritza), to the south of the Lake of Okhrida, is likewise a place of much trade, thanks to its position on a road joining the Adriatic to the Ægean Sea. Scutari and Yanina occupy sites at the foot of the mountains, whose natural advantages could not fail to attract a numerous population. Yanina, the capital of Epirus, is the more picturesque of these two cities. It is situated on the shore of a fine lake, opposite the somewhat heavy masses of the Pindus, but in sight of the mountains of Greece, which are of a “luminous grey, glittering like a tissue of silk.” At the time of Ali Pasha, Yanina became the capital of an empire, and its population then exceeded that of Scutari. But the latter has now regained its pre-eminence. It is admirably situated, and the roads from the Danube and the Ægean, from the Lower Drin and the Adriatic, converge upon it. Scutari, or Shkodra, is the first oriental city which a traveller coming from Italy meets with, and the first impression made by its numerous gardens enclosed by high walls, its deserted streets and irregular buildings, is sufficiently curious. Long after he has entered the town, the traveller will remain uncertain as to its whereabouts. But let him climb to the summit of the limestone rock surmounted by the old Venetian castle of Rosapha, and the most magnificent panorama will unfold itself before his eyes. The domes of Scutari, its twenty minarets, the emerald verdure of the plain, the surrounding amphitheatre of fantastically shaped mountains, the winding waters of the Boyana and Drin, and the placid surface of the lake glittering in the sun—these all combine to produce a spectacle of rare magnificence. The sea alone is wanting to render this picture perfect, but, though near, it is not within sight.34

V — The Illyrian Alps, Bosnia, and Herzegovina

Bosnia, in the north-western corner of Turkey, is the Switzerland of the European Orient, but it is a Switzerland whose mountains do not reach the zone of perennial snow and ice. In many respects the mountain ranges of Bosnia, and of its southern province, the Herzegovina, resemble those of the Jura. They, too, are composed principally of limestone, and rise in parallel ridges, surmounted here and there by sharp crests. Like the successive ridges of the Jura, they are of unequal height, and, taken as a whole, assume the appearance of a plateau traversed by parallel furrows, and gently sloping in one direction. The most elevated chain of Northern Bosnia is that which separates it from the coast of Dalmatia, and the less elevated ridges running parallel with it gradually decrease in height towards the north-east, in the direction of the plains of the Save.

Rocks not belonging to the Jurassic system, such as crystalline slates, dolomites, tertiary deposits, and serpentine, are met with in various localities, and impart some variety to the orographical features of Bosnia. Several crater-shaped depressions in the east and south-east separate the mountains of Bosnia from the mountain masses of Servia. The most remarkable amongst these plains is that of Novibazar, into which numerous torrents discharge themselves, and which commands roads diverging in various directions. This is the strategical key of the country, and is destined on this account to become an important railway junction.

Nearly all the mountain ranges which pass from Carniola and Austrian Croatia into Bosnia increase in height as we advance towards the centre of the peninsula. The bleached pyramid of the Durmitor, close to the northern frontier of Montenegro, attains an elevation of nearly 8,000 feet, and the plateau surrounding it is cut up by deep cavities, some of which, like the troughs of the Herzegovina, open out in one direction, whilst others are completely shut in by declivities. The Prokletya, or “cursed” mountain, still farther to the south-east, rises to a height even more considerable, and constitutes one of the most formidable mountain masses of all Turkey. A huge depression occupies its centre, the bottom of which is covered by the Lake of Plava. Even in summer patches of snow may be seen on some of the mountains which surround this abyss. But Mount Kom, the highest of all, never retains its cap of snow during the whole of the year, for it melts away before the hot African winds to which it is exposed. Mount Kom may possibly turn out to be the culminating point of the Balkan peninsula. It is certainly one of the highest summits, and its double peak, rising above the plateau of Montenegro, is descried from afar by the mariner navigating the Adriatic. It has been ascended by several travellers, for its slopes are gentle.35

The rivers of Bosnia, like those of the Jura, flow between parallel mountain ranges towards the north-east, along the furrows traced out for them by nature. But these calcareous mountain ramparts of Bosnia, like those of the Jura, are broken up by narrow gorges, or cluses, through which the pent up waters find a way from furrow to furrow. Instead of taking a serpentine course, as do most rivers flowing through a plain, these rivers of Bosnia change from valley to valley by abrupt bends. Gentle and furious in turns, they gradually reach the lower regions, and are finally swallowed up by the Save. Only one river, the Narenta, finds its way into the Adriatic; all others, in accordance with the general slope of the country, flow in the direction of the Danube. These river valleys, with their sudden turnings, would be available as natural roads for reaching the plateau, if most of the gorges were not exceedingly difficult of access; and until regular roads have been constructed, as in the cluses of the Jura, travellers are obliged to scale steep heights in order to pass from valley to valley. It is this want of practicable roads which renders military operations in Bosnia so difficult and perilous.

Great armies have at all times remained to the east of the mountain masses referred to, passing from the valley of the Vardar into that of the Morava, whose springs almost intermingle their waters. In that locality we meet with the bed of an ancient lake, through which flows the Sitnitza, one of the upper tributaries of the Servian Morava: this is the plain of Kosovo, the “field of black birds,” which reminds all southern Slavs of painful events. It was there the power of the Servians succumbed in 1389, and, if we may credit ancient heroic songs, more than 100,000 men perished in a single day. Five hundred years have passed away since this great disaster, but the Slavs have never ceased to hope for a day of vengeance, and they look forward to the time when on this very field they may reconquer the independence they have lost.

The similarity between the mountains of Bosnia and of the Jura is rendered complete by the existence of grottoes, sink-holes, and subterranean rivers. Sink-holes from 60 to 100 feet in diameter, and shaped like funnels, are met with in many localities. Several rivers appear suddenly at the foot of a hill, and, after flowing on for a few miles, disappear again beneath some portal in the rocks. The table-land of the Herzegovina especially abounds in phenomena of this kind. The ground there is pierced by “sinks,” or ponors, which swallow up the water derived from precipitation. “Blind valleys” and “troughs” present everywhere the traces of currents of water and of temporary lakes, and after heavy rains the subterranean basins sometimes rise to the surface, and a river then flows for a time along the valley. As a rule, however, the inhabitants are compelled to collect the water they require in cisterns, or to fetch it from long distances. Elsewhere the hydrography of the country is subject to annual changes. Lakes which still figure upon our maps are drained through subterranean passages only recently opened; other lakes are formed in consequence of some passage, which formerly carried off the surface water, having become choked with alluvium. No more curious river probably exists in the world than the Trebinishtitza, in the Western Herzegovina. It appears and disappears many times. One of its branches, flowing at one time on the surface, at others underground, crosses the plains of Kotesi, in turns a parched champaign country or a lake abounding in fish, and enters the Narenta. Other branches pass beneath the mountains, and gush out near the shores of the Adriatic. One of the most famous of these springs is that of Ombra, which pours its waters into the Bay of Gravosa, to the north of Ragusa.

Μ

“Where the rocks finish and the trees appear, there begins Bosnia.” So said the Dalmatians formerly. But many parts of Bosnia have now lost their clothing of verdure. The table-lands of the Herzegovina and Montenegro, no less than Dalmatia, have been despoiled of their forests, but Bosnia proper still remains a country of woods. Nearly one-half its area is covered with forests. In the valleys trees have almost disappeared, for the peasant is allowed to wield his axe without hindrance, but in the virgin forests of the mountains trees still abound. The principal trees of Europe are met with in these magnificent woods: walnut-trees, chestnut-trees, limes, maples, oaks, beeches, ash-trees, birches, pines, firs, and larches. Austrian speculators, unfortunately, avail themselves of the roads which begin to open up the interior of the country to devastate these forests, which ought to be preserved with the greatest care. The song of birds is but rarely heard in these sombre woods, but wild animals abound in them. They shelter bears, wild boars, and deer, and the number of wolves is so large that their skins form one of the most important articles of Bosnian commerce. Taken as a whole, Bosnia ranks among the most fertile countries of Europe, and few regions surpass it in the beauty of its rural scenery. In some parts of the country, and particularly near the Save, large herds of hogs, almost wild, roam through the oak forests. Hence the epithet of “country of hogs” which the Turks have derisively given to Bosnia.

With the exception of the Jews, the gipsies, and the few Osmanli officials, soldiers, and merchants in the principal towns, the entire population of the country is of Slav race. The inhabitants of Kraina, near the Austrian frontier, call themselves Croats, but they scarcely differ from the Bosnian Servians and Raitzes of ancient Rascia, now known as the sandjak of Novibazar. On the classical soil of Rascia originated most of those cherished piesmas, or popular songs, in which the Southern Slavs have deposited their national traditions. The Herzegovinians, in some respects, differ from their Bosnian kinsmen. They are the descendants of immigrants who came from the banks of the Vistula in the seventh century. Like their neighbours the Montenegrins, they are more voluble in their speech than the Servians proper, and make use of numerous peculiar turns of expression and a few words of Italian which have glided into their language.

Although most of the Bosnians are of the same race, they are divided by religious animosities, and these account for their state of political servitude. At the first glance it may cause surprise that the Slavs of Bosnia should not have succeeded in throwing off the Turkish yoke, like their kinsmen of Servia. Their country is more remote from the capital, and far less accessible than Servia. A conquering army coming from the south has not only to force numerous defiles, but has to contend, too, with the climate, which is far more severe than that of the remainder of the Balkan peninsula. But, in spite of these great natural advantages from a defensive point of view, every revolt has hitherto failed lamentably. We need not seek far for the cause of this: Christian and Mo­ham­me­dan Bosnians are at enmity, and the Christians themselves are split up into Greeks, who are led by their popes, and Romans, who follow blindly their Franciscan priests. In their divided state they fall an easy prey to their oppressors, and servitude has degraded their character.

The Mussulmans of Bosnia call themselves Turks, but they are Slavs nevertheless, like their Christian compatriots, and, like them, speak Servian with a large admixture of Turkish words. They are the descendants of the nobles who, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, embraced Islamism in order to save their feudal privileges. They also number amongst their ranks the descendants of brigands, who changed their religion in order to be able to continue their trade without fear of punishment. This apostacy gave to the lords even greater power over their wretched dependants than they had formerly possessed. The hatred of caste was augmented by religious animosity, and they soon surpassed in fanaticism the Mo­ham­me­dan Turks, and reduced the Christian peasantry to a condition of veritable slavery. A wild pear-tree is still pointed out near one of the gates of Sarayevo, upon which the notables occasionally suspended some unfortunate raya for their amusement. Whether beys or spahis, these Mo­ham­me­dan Bosnians are the most retrograde element of old Turkey, and on several occasions, as in 1851, they even rose up in rebellion in order to maintain intact their ancient feudal privileges. Sarayevo, as a Mussulman city, stood under the special protection of the Sultan’s mother, and possessed most extravagant privileges, which converted it into a state in the state more hostile to Christianity than the Sublime Porte itself.

Even in our own days the Bosnian Mussulmans possess far more than their proper share of the land. The country is divided into spahiliks, or Mussulman fiefs, which are transmitted, in accordance with the custom of the Slavs, indivisibly to all the members of the family. The latter choose the most aged or most valorous of their members as their head. The Christian peasants are compelled to work for these Mussulman communities; and, although no longer serfs, they are called upon to bear the chief burden of taxation and of other expenses. It is natural, under these circumstances, that the Christians of Bosnia should shun agriculture in order to devote themselves to trade, and nearly the whole of the commerce is in the hands of the Christians of the Herzegovina and of their co-religionists from Slavonian Austria. The Spanish Jews form communities in the principal towns, where they carry on their usual commercial pursuits and money-lending on tangible securities. They still talk Spanish amongst themselves, and never mention without emotion the name of the country which sent them into exile.

The number of Mussulmans hardly exceeds one-third of the total population of Bosnia, and they are said to remain stationary, or even to diminish, whilst the more fecund Christians increase in numbers.36

For the rest, the Bosnians, in spite of the differences in their religious belief, possess the same natural gifts as their Servian kinsmen, and, whatever destinies may be in store for them, they will in the end rise to the same level of intelligence. They are frank and hospitable, brave in battle, industrious, thrifty, of a poetical turn, fast as friends, and true as lovers. The marital ties are respected, and even the Mussulmans reject the polygamy permitted by the Koran. In the Herzegovina the women enjoy much liberty, and in many villages there are even back doors to the houses, in order that they may be able to gossip with their neighbours without going into the street. In Northern Bosnia, however, the Mussulman women are wrapped up closely in white linen sheets, and are hardly able to see a few steps before them. But, in spite of these good qualities, there exists an amount of barbarity, ignorance, superstition, and fanaticism, amongst Christians and Mo­ham­me­dans alike, which is truly astounding. Incessant wars, tyranny on the one side, and servitude on the other, have brutalised their manners. The want of roads, the extensive forests, and the precipitous mountains have placed them beyond the reach of civilising influences. There are hardly any schools, and the few monasteries which supply their places are of little use, for the monks themselves are steeped in ignorance, and their pupils at most learn to chant a few hymns. Besides this, the immense consumption of slibovitza undermines the health of the people and demoralises them, and it has been estimated that every Bosnian—man, woman, or child—drinks annually no less than thirty-four pints of this detestable plum-brandy.

It may be matter for surprise that bustling towns should exist in so rude a country, but the natural resources of Bosnia are so great that a certain amount of local trade was sure to spring up. Isolated as they are, the Bosnians are thrown upon their own resources. They grind their own flour, manufacture their arms, stuffs, and iron implements, and the exchange of these commodities has given rise to commerce in the cities most favourably situated as entrepôts, the principal amongst which are Sarayevo, or Bosna Serai, and Travnik, the ancient capital of the country, picturesquely situated at the foot of an ancient castle. Banyaluka, which is connected with Austria by a railway, has some trade with Croatia; Tuzla extracts salt from its abundant brine springs; Zvornik, which guards the frontier of Servia, also carries on some trade with that country; Novibazar has commercial relations with Albania; Mostar and Trebinye import a few articles from Dalmatia. The populations of these towns have not, however, been solely attracted by trade and industry, for the insecurity of the country has also contributed to that result. There is no part of Europe, the neighbouring Albania and the polar regions of Scandinavia and Russia excepted, which is so rarely visited by strangers, and this isolation will only cease when the proposed international railway shall have joined it to Saloniki and Constantinople.37

VI — Bulgaria

The centre plateau of Turkey is still amongst the least-known countries of the Balkan peninsula, although it is intersected by the great highways which connect Thracia with Bosnia, and Macedonia with the Danube. This plateau, known to the ancients as Upper Mœsia, consists of a vast granitic table-land, rising to an average height of 2,000 feet. Its surface is diversified by several planinas, or mountain chains, of small relative height, and by domes of trachyte, the remains of ancient volcanoes. Its numerous depressions were formerly filled with water, and the contours of the ancient lakes can still be traced. They have been gradually filled up by alluvium, or drained by rivers. The most remarkable amongst these ancient lacustrine basins are now represented by the fertile plains of Nish, Sofia, and Ikhtiman.

Μ

The superb syenitic and porphyritic mountain group of Vitosh forms the eastern bastion of the Mœsian plateau. Immediately to the east of it the deep valley of the Isker pierces the whole of the Balkan Mountains, and, crossing the plain of Sofia, takes its course in the direction of the Danube. The upper valley of this river and the plain mentioned form the true geographical centre of European Turkey. From Sofia diverge some of the most important roads of the peninsula, one leading through the valley of the Isker to the Lower Danube, another along the Morava valley into Servia, a third by way of the Maritza into Thracia, and a fourth down the Struma into Macedonia. It is said that Constantine the Great, struck by these important natural advantages of Sofia, then called Sardica, thought of making it the capital of his empire.

The Turks apply the name of Balkans to all the mountain ranges of the peninsula, but geographers restrict that term to the Hæmus of the ancients. This mountain rampart begins to the east of the basin of Sofia. It does not form a regular chain, but rather an elevated terrace sloping down gently in the direction of the Danube, whilst towards the south it presents an abrupt slope, it appearing almost as if the plateau on that side had suddenly sunk to a lower level. The Balkan consequently presents the appearance of a chain only when looked at from the south. But its contours even there are only slightly undulating; there are neither abrupt projections nor rocky pyramids, and the prevailing character is that of long-stretched mountain ridges. The porphyritic mountain group of Chatal, which rises to the south of the principal chain, constitutes the only exception to this gentleness of contour. Though inferior in height to the summits of the Balkan, its steep precipices, slashed crests, and chaotic rock masses strike the beholder, and the contrast between this mass of erupted rock and the gentle slopes of the calcareous hills which surround it is very great.

The uniformity of the northern slopes of the Balkan is such that, in many places, a traveller is able to reach the crest without having come in sight of mountains. When the woods have disappeared from the Balkan, these undulating slopes will be deprived of their greatest charm; but, as long as the forests ornament them as now, the country will remain one of the most delightful in Turkey. Running streams flow through each valley, bordered by pastures as brilliantly green as are those of the Alps; the villages are built in the shade of beech-trees and oaks; and nature everywhere wears a smiling aspect. But the plains which extend to the Danube are barren, and sometimes not a single tree is visible. The inhabitants, deprived of wood, are dependent upon cow-dung dried in the sun for their fuel, and they dig for themselves holes in the ground, where they seek protection from the cold of winter.

The core of the Balkan, between the basin of Sofia and that of Slivno, consists of granite, but the terraces which descend towards the Danube present every geological formation, from the metamorphic to the most recent rocks. The cretaceous formation occupies the largest area in Bulgaria, and the rivers rising in the mountains, in traversing it, form picturesque valleys and defiles. Ancient fortresses defend each of these valleys, and the towns have been built where they debouch upon the plain. Tirnova, the ancient capital of the tsars of Bulgaria, is the most remarkable of these old bulwarks of defence. The Yantra, on debouching there from the mountains, winds about curiously; steep cliffs form an amphitheatre, in the centre of which rise two precipitous isolated rocks, crowned formerly by walls and towers. The houses of the town are built on the slopes, and its suburbs extend along the foot of the cliffs.

A singular parallelism has been noticed on the northern slopes of Balkan. The elevated mountain saddles, crests of secondary chains, geological formations, the faults which give rise to the meandering of the rivers, and even the Danube itself, all follow the same direction, from west to east. As a consequence, each of the parallel valleys descending from the Balkans offers similar features; the population is distributed in the same manner; and the towns occupy analogous positions. The valley of the Lom offers the only exception to the rule, for its direction is towards the north-west. It debouches upon the Danube at Rustchuk, and its green orchards and gardens are hemmed in by dazzling white cliffs of chalk rising to a height of about 100 feet.

The symmetry would be almost complete in Northern Turkey if it were not for the detached arid hills of the Dobruja, which force the Danube to make a wide détour to the north. Rising in the low and swampy delta of the Danube, these hills appear to be much higher than they are. In reality they do not exceed 1,650 feet in height. It is possible that during some very remote geological epoch the Danube took its course to the south of these hills, through the depression which has been utilised for the construction of the first Turkish railway. Trajan, who feared that the Goths might obtain a footing in this remote corner of the Roman empire, constructed one of those lines of fortifications here which are known throughout the countries of the Lower Danube as Trajan’s Walls. Remains of walls, ditches, and forts may still be traced along the banks of the marshes, and on the heights commanding them. This country of the Dobruja is the “savage hyperborean region” where Ovid, exiled from Rome, wept for the splendours of the capital. The port of Tomi, the place of his banishment, is the modern Kustenje.

To the north of the Gulf of Burgas, which is the westernmost extremity of the Black Sea, rise the fine porphyry mountains which terminate in the superb Cape of Emineh. They are sometimes described as an eastern prolongation of the Balkan, but erroneously, for the ancient lacustrine basin of Karnabat, now traversed by a railway, separates them from the system of the Hæmus. The granitic plateaux and mountains of Tunja and Stranja, which command the wide plain of Thracia on the north, are likewise separate mountain ranges. The Southern Balkan is, in reality, without ramifications or spurs, except in the west, where the mountains of Ikhtiman and of Samakov, so rich in iron ore and thermal springs, and other transverse chains, connect it with the mountain mass of the Rhodope. The upper basin of the Maritza River, enclosed between the Balkan and the Rhodope, has the shape of an elongated triangle, whose apex, directed towards the plain of Sofia, indicates the point of junction between the two systems. The whole of this triangular depression, with its lateral ramifications, was formerly occupied by lakes, now converted into bottom-lands of marvellous fertility. The passes near the apex of this triangle are naturally points of the highest strategical and commercial importance. Through one of them, still marked by ancient fortifications, and known as Trajan’s Gate, passed the old Roman highway, and there, too, the railway now in course of construction will cross the summit between the two slopes of the peninsula. This is the true “gateway of Constantinople,” and from the most remote times nations have fought for its possession. The numerous tumuli scattered over the neighbouring plains bear witness to many a bloody struggle.

The spurs of the Rhodope intermingle with those of the Balkan, and the lowest pass which separates the two still exceeds 3,000 feet in elevation. The Rilo Dagh, the most elevated mountain mass of the Rhodope, boldly rises at its northern extremity, and, to use the expression of Barth, forms the shoulder-blade of junction. Its height is 9,580 feet. It rises far beyond the region of forests, and its jagged summits, pyramids, and platforms contrast strikingly with the rounded outlines of the Balkan. But the lower heights, surrounded by this imposing amphitheatre of grand summits, are covered with vegetation. Forests of pines, larches, and beech-trees, the haunts of bears and chamois, alternate with clumps of trees and cultivated fields, and the villages in the valleys are surrounded by meadows, vineyards, and oaks. Picturesque cupolas of numerous monasteries peep out amongst the verdure: to their existence the mountain owes its Turkish name of Despoto Dagh, i.e. “mountain of the parsons.” The Rilo Dagh, likewise famous on account of its monasteries, has altogether the aspect of the Swiss Alps. The moist winds of the Me­di­ter­ra­nean convey to it much snow in winter and spring, but in summer the clouds discharge only torrents of rain, and the snow rapidly disappears from the flanks of the mountains. These sudden rain-storms are amongst the most remarkable spectacles to be witnessed. In the forenoon the mist which hides the tops of the mountains grows dense by degrees, and heavy copper-coloured clouds collect on the slopes. About three in the afternoon the rain begins to pour down, the clouds grow visibly smaller, first one, then another summit is seen through a rent in the watery vapours, until at last the air has become purified, and the mountains are lit up in the sunset.

To the south of the Rilo Dagh rises the mountain mass of Perim, hardly inferior to it in height. This is the Orbelos of the ancient Greeks, and the rings to which Noah made fast his ark when the waters subsided after the deluge are still shown there, and even Mussulman pilgrims pay their devotions at this venerated spot. It is the last high summit of the Rhodope. The mountains to the south rapidly decrease in elevation, though the granitic formation to which they belong is spread over a vast extent of country from the plains of Thracia to Albania. The extent of the hilly region connected with the Rhodope is still further increased by numerous groups of extinct volcanoes, which have poured forth vast sheets of trachytic lava. The rivers which flow from the central plateau of Turkey into the Ægean Sea have cut for themselves deep passages through these granites and lavas, the most famous amongst which is the “Iron Gate” of the Vardar, or Demir Kapu, which formerly figured on our maps of Turkey as a large town.

The aspect of the crystalline mountain masses to the west of the Vardar is altogether of an Alpine character, for the peaks not only attain a high elevation, but snow remains upon them during the greater portion of the year. The Gornichova, or Nije, to the north of Thessaly, rises to a height of 6,560 feet; and the Peristeri, whose triple summit and snow-clad shoulders have been likened to the spread-out wings of a bird, and which rises close to the city of Bitolia, or Monastir, is more elevated still. The mountains of ancient Dardania enclose extensive circular or elliptical plains, and the most remarkable amongst these, namely, that of Monastir, has been compared by Grisebach, the geologist, to one of those huge crater lakes which the telescope has revealed to us on the surface of the moon. In most of these plains we meet with swamps or small lakes, the only remains of the sheets of water which at one time covered them. The most extensive of these lakes is that of Ostrovo. The Lake of Kastoria resembles the filled-up crater of a volcano. In its centre rises a limestone hill joined to the shore by an isthmus, upon which is built a picturesque Greek town.

According to Viquesnel and Hochstetter, traces of glaciers do not exist in any of these ancient lacustrine basins, or on the flanks of the mountains. It is certainly remarkable that whilst other European mountains—as, for instance, the Vosges and the mountains of Auvergne—have passed through a glacial epoch, the far more elevated Peristeri, Rilo Dagh, and Balkan, under about the same latitude as the Pyrenees, should never have had their valleys filled by moving rivers of ice.38

All the large rivers of European Turkey belong to the Bulgarian regions of the Balkan or Hæmus. In Bosnia there are merely small parallel rivers flowing to the Save; Albania has only turbulent torrents forcing their way through wild gorges, like the Drin; but the Maritza, the Strymon or Karasu, the Vardar, and the Inje Karasu, which descend from the southern flanks of the Balkans, or originate in the crystalline mountain masses of the Rhodope, are large rivers, which bear comparison with the tranquil streams of Western Europe. As yet we know but little about their mode of action. The volume of water discharged by them has never been measured, and they are hardly made use of for purposes of navigation or irrigation. They all traverse ancient lake basins, which they have filled up gradually with alluvium, and converted into fertile plains. This work of filling up still goes on in the lower portions of these fluvial valleys, where extensive marshes, and even gradually shrinking lakes, abound. One of these lakes, the Takhino, through which the Strymon flows before it enters the Ægean Sea, is said to be the Prasias of Herodotus, and its aquatic villages were no doubt similar to the pile dwellings discovered in nearly all the lakes of Central Europe.

The Danube, to the north of the Dobruja, performs an amount of geological work, in comparison with which that of the Maritza, the Strymon, and Vardar sinks into insignificance. That mighty river annually conveys to the Black Sea a volume of water far in excess of that which is carried down the rivers of all France, and the solids which it holds in suspension are sufficient to cover an area of ten square miles to a depth of nine feet. This enormous mass of sand and clay is annually deposited in the swamps and on the banks of the delta, and the slow but steady growth of the latter is thus sufficiently explained. Even the ancients anticipated a time when the Black Sea would be converted into a shallow pond abounding in sand-banks, and it must, therefore, afford some consolation to our mariners to be told that six million years must pass before the alluvium carried down the river will fill the whole of the Black Sea.

Μ

The large triangular plain which the Danube has conquered from the sea has not yet fully emerged from the waters. Lakes, and the remains of ancient bays, half-obliterated branches of the Danube, and the ever-changing beds of rivulets, have converted this delta into a domain, half land, half sea. More elevated tracts, consolidated by the attack of the waves, rise here and there above the melancholy mire and reeds, and bear a dense vegetation of oaks, olives, and beeches. Willows fringe most of the branches of the river which take their winding course through the delta. Twenty years ago the Danube had six mouths; it has now only three.

After the Crimean war the Western powers determined that the Kilia branch, which conveys to the Black Sea more than half the volume of the Danube, should thenceforth form the boundary between Rumania and Turkey. The Sultan thus possesses not only the whole of the delta, which has an area of about 4,000 square miles, but also the only mouth of the river which makes the possession of that territory of any value to him. The mouth of the Kilia is closed by a bar of sand, which does not even permit small vessels to enter it.

The southern mouth, that of Khidrillis, or St. George, is likewise inaccessible. The centre branch, that of the Sulina, which has served the purposes of commerce from time immemorial, can alone be entered by vessels. But even this channel would not be practicable, in the case of large vessels, if our engineers had not improved its facilities of access. Formerly the depth of water on the bar hardly exceeded a fathom during April, June, and July; and even at times of flood was at most two or three fathoms. But by building convergent jetties, which guide the waters of the river into the deep sea, the depth of water has been increased to the extent of ten feet, and vessels drawing twenty feet can enter. Sulina is now one of the most important commercial ports of Europe, and a highly prized harbour of refuge on the Black Sea, which is so much dreaded by mariners on account of its squalls. We are indebted for this great public work to an international commission, which enjoys almost sovereign rights over the Danube as high up as Isakcha.39

The Bulgarians inhabit the country to the south of the Danube as far as the slopes of Mount Pindus, excepting only certain detached territories in the occupation of Turks, Wallachians, Zinzares, or Greeks. In the Middle Ages their kingdom was even more extensive, for it included the whole of Albania, and had Okhrida for its capital.

The origin of the Bulgarians has been a theme of frequent discussion. The Bulgarians of the Byzantines, who laid waste the plains of Thracia about the close of the fifth century, and whose name became a term of opprobrium, probably were a Ugrian race, like the Huns, and spoke a language akin to that of the Samoyeds. The name of these savage conquerors is sometimes derived from the Volga, on the banks of which they formerly dwelt; but their manners and appearance have undergone a singular change, and nothing now indicates their origin. Originally Turanians, they have been converted into Slavs, like their neighbours the Servians and Russians.

Christian from Viddin. Christian Ladies from Skodra. Mo­ham­me­dans from Viddin. A native of Koyutepe.

This rapid conversion of the Bulgarians into Slavs is one of the most remarkable ethnological phenomena of the Middle Ages. Even in the ninth century the Bulgarians had adopted the Servian language, and soon afterwards they ceased to speak their own. Their idiom is less polished than that of the Servians, and, possessing no literature, has not become fixed. The purest Bulgarian, it is said, may be heard in the district of Kalofer, to the south of the Balkan. The gradual transformation of the Bulgarians into Slavs is ascribed by some authors to the prodigious facility for imitation possessed by that people; but it is simpler to assume that, in course of time, the conquering Bulgarians and the conquered Servians became amalgamated, and that, whilst the former gave a name to the new nation, the latter contributed their language, their manners, and physical features. Thus much is certain, that the inhabitants of Bulgaria must now be looked upon as members of the Slavonian family of nations. Together with the Servians, Croats, and Herzegovinians, they are the most numerous people of European Turkey; and, if the succession to the dominion of the Turks is to be decided by numbers alone, it belongs to the Servo-Bulgarians, and not to the Greeks.

The Bulgarians, as a rule, are not so tall as their neighbours the Servians; they are squat, strongly built, with a large head on broad shoulders. Lejean, himself a Breton, and others, consider that they bear a striking resemblance to the peasants of Brittany. In several districts, and notably in the environs of Philippopoli, they shave the head, a tuft of hair alone excepted, which they cultivate and dress into a tail as carefully as the Chinese. Greeks and Wallachians ridicule them, and many proverbial expressions refer to their want of intelligence and polish. This ridicule, however, they hardly deserve. Less vivacious than the Wallachian, or less supple than the Greek, the Bulgarian is certainly not deficient in intelligence. But bondage has borne heavily upon him; and in the south, where he is oppressed by the Turk and fleeced by the Greek, he looks unhappy and sad; but in the plains of the north and the secluded mountain villages, where he has been exposed to less suffering, he is jovial, fond of pleasure, fluent of speech, and quick at repartee. The inhabitants of the northern slopes of the Balkan, perhaps owing to a greater infusion of Servian blood, are better-looking, too, than other Bulgarians, and dress in better taste. A still finer race of men are the Pomakis, in the high valleys of the Rhodope, to the south of Philippopoli. Their speech is Bulgarian, but in no other respect do they resemble their compatriots. They are a fine race of men, with auburn hair, full of energy, and of a poetical temperament. We almost feel tempted to look upon them as the lineal descendants of the ancient Thracians, especially if it should turn out to be true that in their songs they celebrate Orpheus, the divine musician.

The Bulgarians, and especially those of the plains, are a peaceable people, recalling in no respect the fierce hordes who devastated the Byzantine empire. They are not warlike, like their neighbours the Servians, and do not keep alive in their national poetry the memory of former struggles. Their songs relate to the events of every-day life, or to the sufferings of the oppressed; and the “gentle zaptieh,” as the representative of authority, is one of the characters most frequently represented in them. The average Bulgarian is a quiet, hard-working peasant, a good husband and father; he is fond of home comforts, and practises every domestic virtue. Nearly all the agricultural produce exported from Turkey results from the labour of Bulgarian husbandmen. It is they who have converted certain portions of the plain to the south of the Danube into huge fields of maize and corn, rivalling those of Rumania. It is they, likewise, who, at Eski-Za’ara, at the south of the Balkan, produce the best silk and the best wheat in all Turkey, from which latter alone the bread and cakes placed upon the Sultan’s table are prepared. Other Bulgarians have converted the noble plain of Kezanlik, at the foot of the Balkan, into the finest agricultural district of Turkey, the town itself being surrounded by magnificent walnut-trees and by rosaries, which furnish the famous attar of roses, constituting so important an article of commerce throughout the East. Amongst the Bulgarians between Pirot and Turnov (Tirnova), on the northern slope of the Balkan, there exist flourishing manufactures. Each village there is noted for a particular branch of industry. Knives are made at one, metal ornaments at another, earthenware at a third, stuffs or carpets elsewhere; and even common workmen exhibit much manual dexterity and purity of taste. An equally remarkable spirit of enterprise is manifested amongst the Bulgarians and Zinzares of the district of Bitolia, or Monastir. The town itself, as well as Kurshova, Florina, and others in its vicinity, are manufacturing centres.

The Bulgarians, peaceable, patient, and industrious as they are, are beginning to grow tired of the subjection in which they are held. They certainly do not as yet dream of a national rising, for the isolated revolts which have taken place amongst them were confined to a few mountaineers, or brought about by young men whom a residence in Servia or Rumania had imbued with an enthusiasm for liberty. But though docile subjects still, the Bulgarians begin to raise their heads. They have learnt to look upon each other as members of the same nation, and are organizing themselves for the defence of their nationality. The first step in this direction was taken on a question of religion. When the Turks conquered the country a certain number amongst them turned Mo­ham­me­dan to escape oppression; but though they visit the mosques, they nevertheless still cling to the faith of their forefathers, venerate the same springs, and put their trust in the same talismans. A few joined the Roman Church, but a great majority remained Greek Catholics. Greek monks and priests, not long since, enjoyed the greatest influence, for during centuries of oppression they had upheld the ancient faith. Their presence vaguely recalled the times of independence, and their churches were the only sanctuaries open to the persecuted peasant. But the Bulgarians, in the end, grew discontented with a priesthood who did not even take the trouble to acquire the language of its congregations, and openly sought to subject them to an alien nation like the Greeks. Nothing was further from their thoughts than a religious schism. They merely desired to withdraw from the authority of the Patriarch of Constantinople, and to found a National Church of their own, as had been done by the Servians, and even by the Greeks of the new Hellenic kingdom. The Vatican of Constantinople protested, the Turkish Government proved anything but favourable to this movement of emancipation, but in the end the Greek priests were forced to retire—precipitately in some instances—and the new National Church was established.

This pacific revolution, though directed against the Greeks, cannot fail to influence the relations between Bulgarians and Turks. The former have combined, for the first time since many centuries, for the accomplishment of a common national object, and this reawakening of a feeling of nationality cannot but prove detrimental to the rule of the Osmanli. The latter are not very numerous in the country districts of Western Bulgaria, where they are met with chiefly in the towns, and particularly in those which are of strategical importance. Eastern Bulgaria, however, is for the most part peopled by Turks, or at all events by Bulgarians who have adopted the language, dress, manners, and modes of thought of their conquerors. No Christian monastery exists in this stronghold of Turkish power, though there are several Mo­ham­me­dan places of pilgrimage held in high repute for their sanctity.

The Greeks, next to the Turks, are the most important element of the population of Bulgaria. They are not very numerous to the north of the Balkan, where their influence hardly exceeds that of the Germans and Armenians established in the towns. To the south of the Balkan, though not numerous relatively, they are much more widely distributed. One or two Greeks are met with in every village, carrying on trade or exercising some handicraft. They make themselves indispensable to the locality, their advice is sought for by all, and they impart their own spirit to the whole of the population. Where two or three of these Greeks meet they at once constitute themselves into a sort of community, and throughout the country they form a kind of masonic brotherhood. Their influence is thus far greater than could be expected from their numbers. There are a few important Greek colonies amongst the Bulgarians, as at Philippopoli and Bazarjik, and in a valley of the Rhodope they occupy the populous town of Stanimako, to the exclusion of Turks and Bulgarians. The ruins of ancient buildings, as well as the dialect of the inhabitants, which contains over two hundred Greek words not known to modern Greek, prove that Stanimako has existed as a Greek town for upwards of twenty centuries, and M. Dumont thinks that it is one of the old colonies of Eubœa.

The initiatory part played by the Greeks in Southern Bulgaria is played in the north by the Rumanians. The right bank of the Danube, from Chernavoda to the Black Sea, is for the most part inhabited by Wallachians, who are gradually gaining upon the Turks. Other colonists are attracted by the fertility of the plains at the northern foot of the Balkan. The Bulgarians are careful cultivators of the soil themselves, but the Rumanians nevertheless gain a footing amongst them, as they do with the Servians, the Magyars, and the Germans. They are more active and intelligent than the Bulgarians, their families are more numerous, and in the course of a generation they generally succeed in “Rumanising” a village in which they have settled.

Bulgarians and Turks, Greeks and Wallachians, isolated colonies of Servians and Albanians, communities of Armenians and of Spanish Jews, colonies of Zinzares and wandering tribes of Mo­ham­me­dan Tsigani, have converted the countries of the Balkan into a veritable ethnological chaos; but the confusion is greater still in the small district of Dobruja, between the Lower Danube and the Black Sea. In addition to the races enumerated, we there meet with Nogai Tartars, who are of purer blood than their kinsmen the Osmanli, and exhibit the Asiatic type in greater purity. Although they cultivate the soil, they have not altogether abandoned their nomad habits, for they wander with their herds over hill and dale. They are governed by an hereditary khan, as at the time when they dwelt in tents.

After the Crimean war several thousand Nogai Tartars, compromised by the aid which they had rendered the Allies, joined their compatriots in the Dobruja. On the other hand, about 10,000 Bulgarians, terrified at the approach of these much-maligned immigrants, fled the Dobruja, and sought an asylum in Russia, where they were assigned the lands abandoned by the Crimean Tartars. This exchange proved disastrous to both nations, for sickness and grief carried off many victims. More deplorable still was the lot of the Circassians and other Caucasian tribes, who, to the number of 400,000, sought a refuge in Turkey in 1864. It was by no means easy to provide accommodation for so large a host. The pasha intrusted with the installation of these immigrants sent many of them to Western Bulgaria, in the vain hope that they would cut off all contact between Servians and Bulgarians. The rayas were compelled to surrender to them their best lands, to build houses for them, and to supply them with cattle and seed-corn. This hospitable reception, compulsory though it was, would have enabled these immigrants to start in their adopted country with a fair chance of success, had they but deigned to work. This, however, they declined. Hunger, sickness, and a climate very different from that of their mountains, caused them to perish in thousands, and in less than a year about one-third of these refugees had perished. Young girls and children were sold to procure bread, and this infamous traffic became a source of wealth to certain pashas. The harems became filled with young Circassians, who were a drug in the market at that time, and the human merchandise not saleable at Constantinople was exported to Syria and Egypt. These Circassians, after thus suffering from sickness and their own improvident laziness, have now accommodated themselves to the conditions of their new homes. Though of the same religion as the Osmanli, they readily assimilate with the Bulgarians amongst whom they dwell, and adopt their language.

Other refugees, more kindly treated by fate, have found an asylum in the Dobruja. They are Russian Cossacks, Ruthenians, and Muscovites of the “Old Faith,” who left their steppes towards the close of last century in order to escape persecution. The Padisha, more tolerant than the Christian Empress of Russia, generously received them, and granted them land in various parts of his dominions. The Russian colonies in the Dobruja and in the delta of the Danube have prospered, and one of their settlements on the St. George’s branch of the river is known as the “Cossacks’ Paradise.” Most of these Russians are engaged in the sturgeon fishery and the preparation of caviare. They have proved grateful for the hospitality extended to them, and have always fought valiantly in defence of their adopted country. They retain their national dress, their language, and their religion, and do not mix with the surrounding populations.

In addition to the above, we meet in the Dobruja with colonies of Germans, Arabs, and Poles, and, in the new port of the Sulina, with representatives of many nations of Europe and Asia.

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There are few countries where the great international high-roads are as plainly traced by nature as in Bulgaria. The first of these roads is formed by the Danube. The Turkish towns along its banks—Viddin, Shishtova, Rustchuk, and Silistria—are taking an increasing share in European commerce. This highway is continued along the shores of the Black Sea, where there are several commercial harbours, the most important being Burgas, a great grain port. This natural highway, however, has become too circuitous for purposes of commerce. A railway has therefore been built across the isthmus of the Dobruja, from Chernavoda to Kustenje, and a second line connects Rustchuk, on the Danube, with Varna, on the Black Sea, the latter line crossing the whole of Eastern Bulgaria, and touching the towns of Razgrad and Shumna. A third line, now in course of construction, will cross the Balkans by a depression to the south of Shumna, and traversing the plain in which the towns of Yamboly and Adrianople are built, will connect the Lower Danube with the Ægean Sea. A third route, still farther to the west, passes Turnov, or Tirnova—the ancient capital of the tsars of Bulgaria—Kezanlik, and Eski-Za’ara.

These railways, already opened for traffic or approaching completion, certainly shorten the journey between Western Europe and Constantinople; but it is proposed now to avoid the circuitous navigation of the Lower Danube altogether, by joining the railway system of Europe to that of Turkey. One of these proposed railways will pass through Bosnia, and down the valley of the Vardar to Saloniki; another will follow the ancient Roman road, which connected Pannonia with Byzantium, and which was paved in the sixteenth century as far as Belgrad. The principal cities along this great highway are Nish, on a tributary of the Morava, close to the frontier of Servia; Sofia, the ancient Sardica, on the Isker, a tributary of the Danube; Bazarjik, or “the market;” and the fine town of Philippopoli, with its triple mountain commanding the passage of the Maritza. These towns, on the completion of the railway, cannot fail to become of great commercial importance. A hideous monument near Nish will, perhaps, be pointed out to tourists attracted thither on the opening of the railway. It was erected to remind future generations of a deed of “glory.” This trophy of Kele-kalesi consists of a tower built of the skulls of Servians, who, rather than fall alive into the hands of their enemies, blew themselves up together with the redoubt which they defended. A governor of Nish, more humane than his predecessors, desired to remove this abominable piece of masonry, which no raya passes without a shudder, but Mussulman fanaticism forbade it.

The influence of commerce cannot fail to modify largely the manners and customs of a nation as supple and pliable as are the Bulgarians. War has brutalised the Albanians, and slavery degraded the Bulgarians. In the towns, more particularly, they have sunk very low. The insults heaped upon them by Mussulmans, and the contemptuous manner in which they were treated, rendered them abject and despicable in their own eyes. Demoralised by servitude and misery, given up to the mercy of their rich compatriots, the chorbajis, or “givers of soup,” they became shameless and low-minded helots. The Bulgarian women, in the towns more particularly, presented a spectacle of the most shameful corruption, and their want of modesty, their coarseness, and ignorance fully justified the contempt in which they were held by their Mo­ham­me­dan sisters. Even as regards education the Turks were in advance of them: not long ago their schools relatively were more numerous, and the instruction given in them was of a superior order. Christian villages, moreover, were never so clean or pleasant as those of the Turks.

But, whatever may have been the case in the past, things have already begun to mend. The Turks, as a body, may still be the superiors of the Bulgarians, as regards probity and a respect for truth, but they work less, and become impoverished by degrees. In the country the land gradually passes into the hands of the rayas, in the towns the latter monopolize nearly all the trade. The Bulgarians, moreover, have learnt to appreciate the importance of education; they have founded schools and colleges, have set up printing presses, and send their young men to be educated at the universities of Europe. The young Bulgarians in the mixed colleges of Constantinople invariably make the most satisfactory progress in their studies. This revival of learning is a most hopeful sign of vitality. If persevered in, the Bulgarian race, which has been dead, as it were, for so many centuries, may again play its part in the world’s history. The atrocities of which Bulgaria has recently been the scene may retard this regeneration, but they certainly cannot stop it.40

VII — Present Position and Prospects of Turkey

The prophecies respecting the “sick man” have not yet been fulfilled, and his heritage divided amongst the surrounding powers. To a great extent he is indebted for this continued existence to the jealousies of the European powers, and to the fact of Russia having her hands full in Central Asia. Still, Turkey has recently exhibited a wonderful amount of vitality. Fresh provinces have been incorporated with the empire in Arabia, at a distance of 1,800 miles from the capital; and a rebellion in the north-western portion of European Turkey, originating in the misgovernment of the country, but aided and abetted by Russia, has been suppressed with a strong hand. The Turkish empire remains not only intact, but will actually be found to have considerably increased in extent, if we include within it the territories of the Khedive of Egypt, whose arms have been carried to the Upper Nile and into Dar Fur.

We must guard ourselves, at the same time, against the assumption that Turkey has entered upon a path of normal progress. On the contrary, Turkey is a mediæval country still, and will have to pass through many intestine revolutions before it can rank with the civilised states of Europe or America. The country is in the occupation of hostile races, who would fall upon each other were they not restrained by force. The Servian would take up arms against the Albanian, the Bulgarian against the Greek, and all the subject races would combine against the Turk. National jealousies are augmented by religious animosities. The Catholic Bosnians hate other Slavs, and the Tosks detest the Gheges, although they speak the same language. The Osmanli oppress these various populations without compunction, their art of government consisting in playing them off against each other.

Nor can better things be expected in an empire in which caprice reigns supreme. The Padishah is lord of the souls and bodies of his subjects; he is commander-in-chief of the army, supreme judge, and sovereign pontiff. In former times his power was practically limited by semi-independent feudatories, but since the fall of Ali Pasha and the massacre of the janissaries he is restrained only by customs, traditions, and the demands of the Governments of Europe. He is the most despotic sovereign of Europe, and his civil list the heaviest in proportion to the revenues of the country. The household of the late Sultan and of the members of his family was exceedingly numerous. There lived in the Seraglio an army of 6,000 servants and slaves of both sexes, of whom 600 were cooks. These servants, in turn, were surrounded by an army of hangers-on, who were fed from the imperial kitchens, to which no less than 1,200 sheep were supplied daily by the contractors.

Current expenses were sufficiently heavy, but more considerable still was the extraordinary expenditure incurred in the construction of palaces and kiosks, the purchase of articles de luxe and of curiosities, and for all kinds of prodigalities. The present Sultan, driven thereto by the precarious position of his empire, has limited his expenditure. But will this last?

Ministers, valis, and other high officials of the empire faithfully follow in the footsteps of their sovereign, and their expenditure always exceeds their salary, though the latter is fixed on a most liberal scale. As to the lower officials, their salaries are small and irregularly paid; but it is understood that they may recoup themselves at the expense of the ratepayers. Everything can be purchased in Turkey, and, above all, justice. The state of the finances is most lamentable; loans are raised at usurious interest; and so badly is the country governed that it has been seriously proposed to intrust the management of its finances to a syndicate of the European powers! 41

Agriculture and industry progress but slowly under such misgovernment. Vast tracts of the most fertile land are allowed to lie fallow; they appear to be no one’s property, and any one may settle upon and cultivate them. But woe to him if he conducts his operations with profit to himself; for no sooner is he observed to become wealthy than his land is laid claim to on behalf of the clergy or of some pasha, and he may consider himself lucky if he escapes a bastinado. The peasants, in many districts, are careful not to produce more than they absolutely require to live upon, for an abundant harvest would impoverish them—would merely lead to a permanent increase of taxation. The tradesmen in the smaller towns are equally careful to conceal their wealth, if they possess any.

Many Mussulman families have ceded to the mosques their proprietary rights. They thus enjoy merely the usufruct of their lands, but are freed, on the other hand, from the payment of taxes, and the land remains in the possession of their families until they become extinct. These lands are known as vakufs, and they form about one-third of the area of the whole empire. They contribute actually nothing towards the revenues of the State. In the end they aggrandise the vast estates of the Mo­ham­me­dan clergy. Taxation weighs almost exclusively upon the lands cultivated by the unfortunate Christians; and in proportion as the vakufs increase, so does the produce of taxation diminish. This must in the end necessarily lead to a secularisation of the estates of the clergy; and even now, to the great horror of the old Turks, the Ottoman Government is timidly extending its hands towards the estates belonging to the mosques of Constantinople.

The Servian, Albanian, and Bulgarian peasants actually cultivate their land in spite of their masters. A single fact will show this. Certain collectors of tithes, in order to prevent fraud, insist upon the peasants leaving the whole of the harvest upon the fields until they have withdrawn their tenth part. Maize, rice, and corn are exposed there to the inclemencies of the weather and other destructive agencies; and it frequently happens that the harvest has deteriorated to the extent of one-half in value before the Government impost is levied. Sometimes the peasants allow their grapes or fruit to rot rather than pay the tithes. But it is not the tax-gatherer alone of whose conduct the peasant may complain; for he is exposed likewise to exactions by the middlemen with whom he comes into contact when selling his produce. “The Bulgarian works, but the Greek holds the plough.” So says an ancient proverb; and this is still true at least of the countries to the south of the Balkan, where the Bulgarian peasant is not always the proprietor of the land he tills. But where he does not directly work for a Greek or Mussulman proprietor, his harvest, even before it is cut, is frequently the property of a usurer; but he works on from day to day, a wretched slave, in the vain hope of becoming one day a free man.

The fertility of the soil on both slopes of the Balkans, in Macedonia, and in Thessaly is, however, such that in spite of mosques and tax-collectors, in spite of usurers and thieves, agriculture supplies commerce with a large quantity of produce. Maize, or “Turkish corn,” and all cereals are grown in abundance. The valleys of the Karasu and Vardar produce cotton, tobacco, and dye stuffs; the coast districts and islands yield wine and oil, whose quality would leave nought to be desired, were a little more care bestowed upon their cultivation; and forests of mulberry-trees are met with in certain parts of Thracia and Rumelia, and the export of cocoons to Italy and France is increasing from year to year. Turkey, with its fertile soil, is sure to take a prominent part amongst the European states for the variety and superiority of its products. As to its manufactures, they will no doubt be gradually displaced on the opening of new roads of commerce. The manufacturers of arms, stuffs, carpets, and jewellery in the cities of the interior will suffer considerably from foreign competition, and many amongst them will succumb to it, unless they pass into the hands of foreigners. The great fairs, too, which are now held annually at Slivno and other places, and at which merchants from the whole of the empire meet to transact business—as many as a hundred thousand strangers being attracted occasionally to a single spot—will gradually give place to a regular commercial intercourse.

It is certain that the commerce of Turkey has increased of late years, thanks to the efforts of Greeks, Armenians, and Franks of all nations. The annual value of the exports and imports of the whole of the Ottoman empire in Europe and Asia is estimated at £40,000,000—a very small sum, if we bear in mind the resources of these countries, their many excellent harbours, and their favourable geographical position.

The Turks themselves perform but a very small share of the work that is done in their empire. Various causes combine to render them less active than the other races. They are the governing class, and their ambition naturally aspires to the honours and the luxury of kief; that is to say, of sweet idleness. Despising everything not Mo­ham­me­dan, and being, besides, heedless and of a sluggish mind, they but rarely learn foreign languages, and are thus in a certain measure at the mercy of the other races, most of whom speak two or more idioms. Moreover, the fatalism taught in the Koran has deprived the Turk of all enterprise, and once thrown out of his ordinary routine, he is helpless. Polygamy and slavery are likewise two causes of demoralisation. It is true that the rich alone can permit themselves the luxury of a harem, but the poor learn from their superiors to despise women, they become debased, and take a share in that traffic in human flesh which is a necessary sequence of polygamy. Yet, in spite of the innumerable slaves imported in the course of four centuries from all the regions bordering upon the Turkish empire; in spite of the millions of Circassian, Greek, and other girls transplanted into the harems, the Osmanli are numerically inferior to the other races of the peninsula. This dominant race—if the term race be applicable to the product of so many crossings—hardly numbers ten per cent. of the population of European Turkey. And this numerical inferiority is on the increase, for, owing to polygamy, the number of children surviving in Mo­ham­me­dan families is less than in Christian families. We are not in possession of precise figures, but there can be no doubt that the Turks are on the decrease. The conscription, to which they alone are subject, has contributed towards this result, and becomes more difficult from year to year.

It has often been repeated since Chateaubriand that the Turks have but camped in Europe, and expect to return to the steppes whence they came. It would thus be a feeling of presentiment which induces the Turks of Stambul to seek burial in the cemetery of Scutari, hoping thus to save their bones from the profanation of the Giaour’s tread on his return, as master, to Constantinople. In many places the living follow the examples of the dead, and a feeble current of emigration sets from the Archipelago and the coast districts of Thracia in the direction of Asia, carrying along many an old Turk discontented with the stir of European life. This migration, however, is but of very small importance, and does not affect the Osmanli of the interior. Nothing is further from the minds of the Turks of Bulgaria, the Yuruks of Macedonia, or the Koniarides, who have inhabited the mountains of Rumelia since the eleventh century, than to quit the land which has become their second home. The Turkish element in the Balkan peninsula can be got rid of only by exterminating it; that is, by treating the Turks more ferociously than they treated the native populations at the time of the conquest. We ought not to forget, at the same time, that the Turks, though far inferior in numbers to the other races, are nevertheless able to reckon upon the support of millions of Mo­ham­me­dan Albanians, Bosnians, Bulgarians, Circassians, and Nogai Tartars. The Mussulmans constitute more than a third of the population of European Turkey, and, in spite of differences of race, they hold firmly together. Nor must it be forgotten that they are backed up by a hundred and fifty millions of co-religionists in other parts of the world.42

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Let us hope that the future may not give birth to a struggle of extermination between the races of the peninsula, but rather to institutions enabling these diverse and partially hostile elements to develop themselves in peace and liberty. The Turks themselves begin to see the necessity of such institutions, and, in theory at least, have abandoned their policy of violence and oppression. All the nationalities of the empire, without reference to race or religion, are supposed to be equal before the law, and Christians are admitted to Government offices on the same terms as Mussulmans. No doubt these fine laws have for the most part hitherto remained a dead letter, but it would nevertheless be unjust if we denied that much progress towards an equalisation of the various races has been made.

Fortunately the despotism of the Turks is not the despotism of learning, based upon a knowledge of human nature, and directed to its debasement. The Osmanli ignore the art of “oppressing wisely,” which the Dutch governors of the Sunda Islands were required to practise in former times, and which is not quite unknown in other countries. The pashas allow things to take their course as long as they are able to enrich themselves and their favourites, to sell justice and their favours at a fair price, and to bastinade now and then some unlucky wight. They do not inquire into the private concerns of their subjects, and do not call for confidential reports on families and individuals. Their Government, no doubt, is frequently violent and oppressive; but all this only touches externals. Such a government may not be favourable to the development of public spirit, but it does not interfere with individuals, and powerful national institutions, such as the Greek commune, the Mirdit tribe, and the Slav community, have been able to survive under it. Self-government is, in fact, more widely practised in Turkey than in the most advanced countries of Western Europe. It would have been difficult to force these various national elements under a uniform discipline, and the lazy Turkish functionaries generally leave things alone. The Frankish officials in the pay of the Turkish Government, in fact, more frequently interfere with the prejudices and privileges of the governed than do the Mussulman pashas of the old school.

It cannot be doubted for a moment that, in a time not very far distant, the non-Mo­ham­me­dan races of Turkey will take the lead in politics, as they do already in commerce, industry, and education. The Osmanli of the olden school, who still wear the green turban of their ancestors, look forward towards this inevitable result with despair. They struggle against every measure calculated to accelerate the emancipation of the despised raya, and European inventions, in their eyes, are working a great social transformation to their injury; and, indeed, it is the raya who profits most from roads, railways, harbours, agricultural and other machines. Bosnians, Bulgarians, and Servians have learnt to look upon each other as brothers; Albanians and Rumanians are drawn towards the Greeks; all alike feel themselves as Europeans; and thus the way is being paved for the Danubian Confederation of the future.

The approaching completion of the railway from Vienna to Constantinople cannot fail to work a commercial revolution as far as the trade of a considerable portion of Eastern Europe is concerned. It will form a link in the direct line between England and India, and to travellers and merchandise will afford the shortest route from the centre of Europe to the Bosporus. On its opening, Constantinople will be enabled to avail itself to the fullest extent of the highways of commerce which converge upon it. Still greater must be the political consequences of opening this line, for it will bring the populations of the Balkan peninsula into more direct and active contact with those of Austro-Hungary and the rest of Europe.

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VIII — Government and Administration

The Turkish empire occupies a vast area, the greater portion of which is governed by vassals, almost independent of the Sultan at Stambul. The vast territories of Egypt and Tunis are in that position. The interior of Arabia is in possession of the Wahabites; the coast of Hadramaut is inhabited partly by tribes acknowledging the suzerainty of England; and even between Syria and the Euphrates there are numerous districts only nominally under the government of Turkish pashas, but in reality in the possession of predatory Bedwins. The Ottoman empire, properly so called, includes the European provinces, Asia Minor, Syria, Palestine, the basins of Tigris and Euphrates, Hejaz and Yemen in Arabia, and Tripoli, with Fezzan, in Africa. These territories, with their dependent islands, cover an area of no less than 210,156 square miles; but their population, being far less dense than that of Western Europe, hardly numbers 47,000,000 souls.

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The area of Turkey in Europe, exclusive of Rumania, Servia, and Montenegro, is about equal to that of the British Islands. Constantinople, with the surrounding country, forms a district under the immediate supervision of the Ministry of Police. The remainder of the country is divided into eight vilayets, or provinces; the vilayets are subdivided into mutesarifliks, or sanjaks; these latter into kazas, or cantons; and the kazas into rahiés, or parishes. Lemnos, Imbros, Samothrace, and Astypalæa, with Rhodes and the islands along the coast of Anatolia, form a separate vilayet. These political divisions, however, are subject to frequent changes.43

The Sultan, or Padishah, concentrates all powers within his person. He is Emir el mumenin, or head of the faithful, and his conduct is guided solely by the prescriptions of the Koran and the traditions of his ancestors. The two most influential persons in the empire, next to him, are the Sheik-el-Islam, or Great Mufti, who superintends public worship and the administration of justice, and the Sadrazam, or Grand Vizier, who is at the head of the general administration, and is assisted by a council of ten ministers, or mushirs. The Kislar Agasi, or chief of the black eunuchs, to whom is confided the management of the imperial harem, is likewise one of the great dignitaries of the empire, and frequently enjoys the very highest influence. The legal advisers of the various ministries are known as mufti. Efendi, bey, and aga are honorary titles bestowed upon certain Government officials and persons of consideration. The title of pasha, which signifies “grand chief,” is given to certain high civil or military functionaries. This title is symbolized by one, two, or three horse-tails attached to the top of a lance, a usage recalling the time when the nomad Turks roamed over the steppes of Central Asia.

The work of the various ministries is done by councils, and there thus exist a council of state, or shuraï devlet, councils of accounts, of war, of the navy, of public education, of police, &c. These various councils, in their totality, constitute the divan, or government chancery. There is also a supreme court of justice, with sections for civil and criminal cases. The members of these various official bodies are appointed by Government. Each of the subject “nations” is represented on the Council of State by two members, carefully selected by the Sadrazam.

The vilayet is governed by a vali, the sanjak by a mutesarif, the kaza by a kaimakan, the parish by a mudir. Each of these is supposed to act by advice of a council composed of the leading religious and civilian functionaries, Mo­ham­me­dan and non-Mo­ham­me­dan. In reality, however, the vali appoints all these councils, and they are popularly known as the “Councils of the Ayes.”

The rules laid down by the supreme Government for its own guidance are embodied in the hatti-sherif of Gulhane, promulgated in 1839, and in the hatti-humayum of 1856. These hatts promise equal rights to all the inhabitants of the empire, but have been carried out hitherto only very partially. A “constitution” was promulgated in December, 1876, on the assembling of the European Conference at Constantinople. It provides representative institutions, local self-government, and various improvements, but is likely to remain a dead letter.

The religious and judicial organization of the country is jealously watched over by the Sheik-el-Islam and the priests, and cannot possibly be changed. The imans are specially charged with the conduct of public worship. They include sheiks, or preachers; khatibs, who recite the official prayers; and the imans properly so called, who celebrate marriages and conduct interments. Judges and imans form a body known as ulemas, at whose head is placed a kazi-asker, or chief judge, and who are divided hierarchically into mollahs, kazis (kadis), and naibs.

The Greek Patriarch of Constantinople, as head of the Church in Turkey and civil director of the Greek communities, wields a considerable influence. He is elected by a synod of eighteen members, which administers the religious budget, and whose decisions in matters of faith are final. The heads of the Latin rite are a patriarch at Constantinople and the two Archbishops of Antivari and Durazzo. The two Armenian Churches have each a patriarch at Constantinople.

Treaties of San Stefano and Berlin

It will be noticed that the preceding description of Turkey in Europe, and the succeeding accounts of Rumania, Servia, and Montenegro, present the conditions existing immediately prior to the late war with Russia, in which the Turks were completely overpowered in a few months. The Congress of European powers sitting at Berlin in the summer of 1878, to consider the preliminary treaty of San Stefano (March 2) between Russia and Turkey, materially modified its provisions in the joint treaty signed July 13, disposing of European Turkey in the following manner: 1. The tributary principality of Bulgaria is created (with less than half the dimensions assigned to it by the treaty of San Stefano), to be governed by a prince (who shall not be a member of any ruling dynasty) chosen by the people within nine months, and confirmed by the Porte and the other powers, and in the mean time by Russian commissioners assisted by delegated European consuls. 2. South of the Balkans is formed the autonomous province of Eastern Roumelia, under a Christian governor-general, appointed for five years by the Porte with the assent of the powers, which are to determine within three months the administrative requirements of the province. 3. Bosnia and Herzegovina to be occupied and administered by Austria-Hungary, excepting Novi-Bazar and a small surrounding district. This provision, unlimited as to time, practically annexes those provinces to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and has already (October, 1878) been executed, after serious armed resistance by their Moslem inhabitants. 4. Rumania, Servia, and Montenegro are made independent, with the enlarged boundaries shown by the annexed map. Rumania receives the Dobruja from Russia, to which it was ceded by the treaty of San Stefano, with the understanding that it was to be exchanged for the strip of Bessarabia transferred from Russia to Rumania by the treaty of Paris of 1856, which has accordingly been restored. The additions to Montenegro include the port of Antivari, which is closed to war-ships of all nations; and Montenegro is to have no national flag nor ships of war, its merchant flag to be protected by Austrian consuls. 5. Austrian Dalmatia receives from Albania the small port of Spitza. 6. The services of the powers are offered for the rectification of the northern frontier of Greece. 7. Entire religious liberty and political equality are provided for in all the territories affected by the treaty.

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