Read Ebook: Turkish Harems & Circassian Homes by Hope Andr E

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 292 lines and 24909 words, and 6 pages

The yacht was moving gently on, there was barely a ripple on the water, and, seemingly, we were within a stone's throw of the shore. A little sandy beach ran along the edge of the sea, then rose banks all mossy and ferny, with undulating grass-fields and conical hills, with great clumps of oak and beech trees scattered about. Then came a region of dark fir-woods, mingled with the tender green of the weeping birches. Farther away still were steep hills and rugged mountains, their sides all covered with vast forests, stretching away far as the eye could reach, whilst above their dark shaggy masses rose the majestic peaks of a distant range, glistening white in their dazzling covering of eternal snow. Cattle and sheep were wandering over the rich pastures, but peaceful as the country appeared, peace is, in reality, the blessing most unknown to it. War is constantly raging, and the smiling plain and pretty thickets before us have been the scene of many a fierce struggle.

We longed to land. The boat was being lowered for the purpose, when luckily for us, as we afterwards discovered, a breeze sprang up, and we continued our course towards Soukoum-Kal?. Had we gone on shore, in all probability we should have been taken prisoners by the hostile Circassians , carried up into the mountains, and compelled to pay a considerable sum before our involuntary sojourn amongst them had ended.

A species of guerilla warfare is incessantly going on between the inhabitants in these remote parts and the Russians. The former consider all Europeans as enemies, and though the Russians are nominally masters of the country, the Circassians still possess amongst the mountains some strongholds that are almost impregnable.

Whenever they have a chance, they make captures, on account of the ransoms they usually obtain. Should the prisoner be of any importance, he generally prefers paying a moderate sum, rather than endure months of miserable imprisonment. As to the common soldiers, they are usually shot, their value being but small.

Had we been made prisoners, it would, of course, have been possible to appeal both to the English and Russian Governments; but the journeys to and from Constantinople and St. Petersburg are very long, and as it would require some weeks to procure the necessary money, we should have had to lead a wretched existence amongst the mountains, making more experiences about wild Circassian life than would probably have pleased us.

Near the sea-shore is a very curious old church, called Pitsunda, standing quite alone miles away from any fort, or even traces of village. Tradition says it was built during the reign of Constantine, but nothing certain is known as to its origin. It was, however, repaired towards the latter end of the thirteenth century, and just before the last war with Turkey commenced, the Russians had made preparations for restoring it completely. Fine stone and marble had been brought from a considerable distance for the purpose, and we could see some partially-worked blocks still lying around. A magnificent cross in white marble, that had retained many traces of the rich sculpture of the fifteenth century, fell a victim to the fanaticism of the Turks. They shattered it into a thousand pieces, besides defacing the interior of the building as much as possible.

Even the Circassians had always respected this church, and it is really grievous that so fine a relic of antiquity should be falling into ruins.

As the day drew to its close the little breeze dropped, and the sea rested so calmly in its deep tranquillity, that not a ripple disturbed its mirror-like surface. The very forests appeared to be slumbering in the sun. A pile of light fleecy clouds that had been slowly flitting about all day changed to a soft crimson, and floated on a sky that shaded from intense blue to the most brilliant rose-colour. Then a shower of gold seemed to fall, and the clouds changed into a long veil of pink vapour, that hung lightly, like a scarf, over the snowy peaks of the distant mountains.

As we watched this lovely shade, the sun sank below the horizon, a blaze of golden light shot up, the sea became deep purple, the snow-mountains gradually lost their rosy glow, and an unearthly pallor--beautiful, yet awfully like death--stole gently over the long line of peaks, growing paler and paler, until at length darkness hid the shore from our sight.

SOUKOUM.

The next morning it was discovered, to the vexation of all on board, that we had overshot our mark. A headland had been mistaken, and the yacht was some miles beyond Soukoum-Kal?. We had to work our way back again therefore, and it was mid-day before the anchor was dropped in the roadstead opposite the little town.

Navigation off this coast is very difficult. There are but few charts, and even these few are not correct. Indeed it is hinted that there is no desire that the difficulties should be diminished.

The country around Soukoum is quite as beautiful as any we have yet seen; but the town itself, though its low, white houses scattered along the shore and up the sides of the wooded hills are picturesque enough, seems a small, insignificant place, little more than a Russian fort.

A Russian transport and three small ships of war were anchored near us, the decks and yards thronged with people anxious to see such an unusual, such a wonderful sight as an English yacht. The Claymore has the honour of being the first vessel to fly the Royal Yacht Squadron flag at Soukoum-Kal?.

The beach where we landed was crowded with Russians and Circassians, many of the latter the wildest-looking creatures imaginable. They were mostly however fine, tall men, with remarkably erect and graceful figures, intelligent faces, and large, dark, fiery eyes. Their dignified bearing was in marked contrast to the depressed appearance and careworn countenances of the majority of the Russians.

In poverty and in rags a Circassian retains his independent, self-relying manner, and looks a bold mountaineer, who, notwithstanding his nominal submission to a foreign power, preserves his liberty, and, with gun and sword, can defend his own against the world. This same gun and sword, it is asserted, are not unfrequently turned to other and less legitimate uses, for their owner does not scruple to avail himself of any favourable opportunity of enriching his purse by their aid.

The Circassian dress is very picturesque. Large, loose trousers are tucked into high boots, with a dark coat made full in the skirts, whilst across the chest is a row of long, narrow pouches, in which the ammunition is carried. The high cap is made of coarse cloth, the lower part covered with sheepskin. The horsemen from the mountains wear, instead of this cap, a long pointed hood, called a "papack," made of canvas and shaped like a monk's cowl, with two long ends that hang over the shoulders. Each man carries a carbine, rolled in sheepskin, slung at his back, and has pistols stuck into his girdle.

Circassians, as a rule, have singularly small hands and feet, and the beauty of the latter is much enhanced by the boots they wear. These boots are made without soles, and are of scarlet or crimson leather so well prepared, and so fine in texture, that they at once take the shape of the foot, and fit like gloves.

The houses in Soukoum are low, being seldom more than one storey high; but they are very pretty, being generally surrounded by broad verandahs that are covered with creepers, and having gardens full of flowering trees and shrubs.

About the middle of the town, or village, is a large rough square, the exercising-ground of the troops; and beyond this again, bordered by a double row of trees, is a sort of road called by the dignified name of the Boulevard. All the best houses are here, including those of the governor and admiral. There may have been eight or ten more of nearly equal size. The others were very small, containing but two, or perhaps three rooms.

The road was exceedingly pretty, with its fine trees; and a raised pathway under their shade made a very pleasant walk. It led to a rough common, where several large flocks of geese were disporting themselves in the little clear pools of water.

For some reason or other,--why we never clearly understood,--Russians have an idea that the goose is the pet bird of all English homesteads, and that a flock of geese has a romantic charm to the English eye far beyond that which any other bird can possess. These geese were, therefore, pointed out to us by our companions as likely to awake many tender reminiscences of home. But it is a sad and, perhaps also, a humiliating confession to make, that instead of contemplating these excellent birds with feelings of tenderness, as suggestive of home nooks and corners in dear Old England, we gazed upon them with sentiments of the lowest and most earthly domestic interest. A tolerably long course of skinny chickens and preserved meats had so deteriorated our higher tastes and sensibilities, and had so sharpened our appetites, that the first thought was that now we would have roast goose for dinner, and that the excellent Domenico could replenish the empty poultry-coops.

But in truth the scene was very pretty, and wonderfully like England. The heathy common, with its patches of gorse and tufts of "bracken," the white cottages peeping out amidst the trees, the groups of birch and alder bushes that skirted the little pools, the clumps of rugged old Scotch firs, made us feel for a moment that we must have been seated on Prince Hussein's magic carpet, and in the twinkling of an eye had been transported to a sunny glade in the Hampshire New Forest. But ere the thought found words, a herd of buffaloes crossing the path, and then a group of wild figures armed to the teeth, their dark eyes glittering fiercely from beneath their white hoods as they dashed rapidly by, speedily dispelled the illusion, and showed how far we were from the peaceful highways and byways of home.

The very beauty we admire, namely, the wondrous luxuriance of the vegetation, is one of the great evils of the country, or rather becomes so, from the carelessness and indolence of man. Were the land properly cultivated, Abasia would be a paradise. The soil is so fertile, and the climate so temperate, that nearly every description of grain, fruit, and vegetable might be grown with very little trouble.

It seems almost incredible that in a country so rich and productive that a few hours' industry would insure an abundant harvest, every fruit and vegetable, including even potatoes, should be imported from Trebisonde.

Unhappily the Circassians are too proud and too indolent to work, and until better guarantees can be given for the preservation of life and property, colonists cannot of course be expected to settle.

At present the Russian soldiers are the only agricultural labourers, and as their military duties are severe, the result is that only sufficient ground is cultivated to supply the horses with hay and forage.

Military service in the Caucasus has been for many years unpopular amongst the Russian regiments. The duty is arduous, and the great distance from the capital causes it to be looked upon, especially by the officers, as a banishment little inferior to that of being sent to serve in Siberia. Indeed, some of those we knew were of opinion the northern was the less objectionable station of the two, for the constant attacks of fever, from which it seems almost impossible to escape, cause, not only exhaustion of body, but a mental depression that is very trying to the sufferers.

This accounted for the haggard and cadaverous appearance of so large a proportion of the soldiery. We hear also that the ratio of mortality is very large. Fever prevails all the summer, and is more or less dangerous according to the quantity of rain that falls, but during the months of July and August it usually rages with frightful severity. During a rainy season the mortality is quite terrible.

Last year out of five thousand soldiers three thousand were suffering from fever, while there was not one case amongst the seamen on board the Russian men-of-war lying at anchor opposite the town.

Vessels, during the summer months, remain as far away in the roadstead as possible, the air from the town being so fraught with disease.

During the course of our walk we ascended a little detached hill called the Upper Fort, and felt immediately the relief of being able to breathe the fresh invigorating mountain breeze, after the relaxing warmth and dampness of the air in the town below. Happily the hospitals are here, for it is the only really healthy spot in Soukoum. Were the sick obliged to remain in the valley, the deaths would probably be doubled.

Close to the fort is a small house where Omar Pasha lived with some of his wives when the Turkish army occupied Abasia. It is quite a tiny place, only containing four rooms, but notwithstanding the confined space, the poor women, it is said, were never allowed to go out. Tradition, however, does not say whether their beauty was so dazzling that it was not safe to risk their being seen by the profane eyes of unbelieving Giaours.

The views on all sides were most lovely, but the very beauty had an air of desolate grandeur that produced a feeling of depression. A perfect network of steep narrow valleys extended beyond the region of wooded hills immediately before us. Great banks of forest clothed their steep sides, stretching far away, dark and silent, until their gloomy outlines were lost in the shadowy recesses of the mountains. Here and there the silver line of a distant water-fall caught the rays of the setting sun, and glittered for a few minutes amidst the sombre masses of the woods; but, though so near the town, no sound broke the stillness--no song of birds, no voice of man, no cheerful token of the neighbourhood of cattle or home life disturbed the silence of evening.

We had followed a sort of track that skirted the nearest valley. Wild flowers grew around in such beauty and profusion that it was impossible not to gather handfuls as we passed. Honeysuckle and eglantine hung in garlands from every bush; wild hops and vines festooned the trees. In every rocky hollow were tufts of the pretty caper-plant, with its lovely blossoms of mauve and white, while the ground seemed covered with bright geraniums, many-tinted asters, late cyclamen, and the dwarf myrtle. And then the wondrous beauty of the mossy wood we entered next, where the sunbeams quivered over a perfect carpet of lovely grasses, lichens, and graceful ferns. Charming though it was, we dared not prolong our stroll, for the sun was sinking low, and not only is the evening air supposed to be laden with fever, but our companions assured us that it would be scarcely prudent to be beyond the fort when night had come. We quickened our steps, but notwithstanding all our haste, it was nearly dusk before we arrived at the town.

It was startling to see, from time to time, a wild horseman gallop by, looking all the more wild and eerie from the dim uncertain light. Mounted on little wiry horses, they rode at headlong speed towards the gloomy passes in the mountains, and long after they were out of sight we could hear their swords clattering against their large stirrups as they dashed rapidly over the rough ground.

It is difficult to find adequate words in which to express our sense of the great kindness of all our friends in Soukoum. Not only have horses and an escort of Cossacks been placed at our disposal during the whole of our stay, but every little wish has been anticipated. As to our poultry coops, they have been filled to overflowing with the best poultry the place can produce, and the milk of the only available cow in the town has been devoted to our use. The wish of seeing the various ferns and wild flowers of the country speedily brought baskets of the most lovely specimens on board the yacht. Music and sketches were also among the generous gifts. In short, so great has been the kindness, that words fail with which to describe it.

Should, however, these few pages be ever seen by any of the kind and accomplished friends who made Circassia even a more enchanting land to us than we had pictured it in our dreams, they will see that they are remembered with feelings of the truest gratitude and admiration by their English guests.

Few people are more accomplished than the Russians; and in this remote corner of the world we have had musical evenings that would have obtained approval from the most fastidious connoisseur.

Beethoven and Chopin probably little thought their delicious melodies would beguile many a weary hour in countries beyond the Black Sea.

The escort consisted of six Cossacks and a corporal. All were well armed with muskets, pistols, &c., but the horses they rode were so thin, and seemed so out of condition, that we wondered at first how the poor things could stand.

We had not long started, however, before we perceived that they went wonderfully well, and actually looked better at the end of the ride than they did at the beginning.

The guide, a young Circassian, grandly arrayed in a brilliant yellow coat and scarlet boots, and fully armed with matchlock, pistols, and sabre, rode at the head of the troop.

Circassian saddles look exceedingly clumsy and uncomfortable. They are very peaked and very high, but the Circassians are first-rate horsemen; they use short stirrups, have the regular English hunting-seat, holding on by the knees, and rise in their trot in a very unmilitary but thoroughly jockey-like fashion.

We had our own saddles, and they evidently excited much wonder amongst the little crowd that had collected. We were watched with absorbed interest, as the various preparations of tightening girths, &c., were made, but when at last Mr. Harvey mounted my sister and myself in the English fashion, the feelings of the spectators found vent in a little cry of astonishment.

We crossed the common, and entered a very pretty wood of beech and oak trees. Occasional openings showed the sea on one side, and on the other low, steep, wooded hills, with huge boulders of granite rearing their grey sides above the trees.

Some of the masses of rock were so smooth and round that they looked like gigantic marbles, as if the Titans had been disporting themselves amidst the lofty summits of El-Barouz, and had rolled some of their playthings into the valleys beneath.

From time to time we passed long narrow glens that gave vistas of apparently endless chains of hill and mountain; the nearest looking dark purple in the strong light, others beyond growing gradually paler and less distinct, until they became at last blended with the blue distance, a faint glimmer of snow alone indicating the most distant peaks.

This rapid pace, however, could not be kept up after leaving the grassy plain, for we then entered the hill country, where forest and thick underwood made the way more difficult, and where treacherous bogs had to be skirted and sometimes traversed.

These bogs during the winter and spring are almost impassable. During the summer months they can be crossed in certain directions. In consequence of the late drought, they are just now unusually firm, but nevertheless we had to jump over several little watercourses and dangerously green places.

Sometimes, too, the ground shook under the horses' feet as if it meant to swallow us up, but our sagacious animals made their way with the utmost precaution, and evidently thoroughly understood their business.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet