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| "Die Felsen von Suli",
Zeichnung von Edward Lear, 1849 |
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May 5 1849
At sunrise the vale of Lelovo is full of mist, and rescounding
with the lowing of invisible cows, on hearing which domestic
sound, I thought, of course, there would be no milk, but for
a wonder, there was. How enjoyable was the walk through the
meadows as we left the village on our route to Suli. The song
of birds, the fresh breeze, and all those charms of early
morning which to the experienced sojourners in southern lands,
mark the best hours of the day! We halted but once at a shepherd´s
capanna, for a bowl of fresh milk, ere we began a severe ascent,
which in two hours brought us to Kragna, a little village
among noble old oaks, whence the views extended over the gulf
of Arta with the Tzumerka and Ioannina hills. But the people
of Kragna were cross-grained and disobliging, and no offers
would induce them to furnish us with another horse (that which
carried the baggage not being a very strong one), nor would
they shew us the road to Zermi, on the way to Suli, except
for a minute´s walk beyond their village. About eight
we left it, and passed from dell to dell, by very difficult
paths, steep, narrow and rocky, with no little fear of losing
the way in places where the track was quite obliterated by
torrents. We steered well however, and finally leaving the
thick oak woods, arrived at the hill of Zermi, high up on
which is the scattered village of the same name, guarded by
troops of angry dogs, as is the custom in these parts.
We went to the house of the Primate (1),
and found him as well as his family at dinner: it was the
fete of St. George, to-day being with them the 23rd of April.
With the heartiest hospitality they insisted on our sharing
their feast, which was by no means a bad one, as it consisted
of roast lamb, two puddings made of Indian corn, one with
milk and herbs, the other with eggs and meat, besides rakhee.
The room was extremely neat and clean, and the best in all
respects I had seen in Southern Albania; but sitting in a
draught of air when heated by exercise, that premonitory feeling
which indicates coming fever, obliged me to quit the society
almost immediately. We waited for some time in expectation
of another horse, but at half-past twelve tidings came that
it had escaped, and so we divided our baggage into two parts,
in order to lessen the feebler steed´s burden, and thus
arranged set out again.
Descending the hill of Zermi we came in less than an hour
to the vale of Tervitziana, through which the river of Suli
flows ere, "previously making many turns and meanders
as if unwilling to enter such a gloomy passage," it plunges
into the gorge of Suli. We crossed the stream, and began the
ascent on the right of the cliffs, by narrow and precipitous
paths leading to a point of great height, from which the difficult
pass of the Suliote glen commences. And while toiling up the
hill, my thoughts were occupide less with the actual interst
of the scenery, than with the extaordinary recollections connected
with the struggles of the heroic people who so lately as forty
years back were exterminated or banished by their tyrant enemy.
Every turn in the pass I am about to enter has been distinguished
by some stratagem or slaughter: every line in the annals of
the last Suliote war is written in characters of blood. (2)
But my reflections were interrupted by a disagreeable incident:
in a rocky and crabbed part of the narrow path, the baggage
horse missed footing and fell backward; fortunately, he escaped
the edge of the precipice; but the labour and loss of time
in re-arranging the luggage was considerable; and when we
had scaled the height, and I sat looking with amazement into
the dark and hollow abyss of the Acheron, a second cry and
crash startled me - again the unlucky horse had stumbled,
and this time, though safe himself, the baggage suffered;
- the basket containing the canteen was smitted by a sharp
rock, and all my plates and dishes, knives, forks, and pewter
pans - which F. L. had bequeathed to me at Patras - went spinning
down from crag to crag till they lodged in the infernal (3)
stream below. These delays were serious, as the day was wearing
on, and the 'Pass of Suli' was yet to be threaded. The fearful
gorge cannot be better described than in the words of Colonel
Leake: "A deep ravine, formed by the meeting of the two
great mountains of Suli and Tzikurates - one of the darkest
and deepest of the glens of Greece; on either side rise perpendicular
rocks, in the midst of which are little intervals of scanty
soil, bearing holly oaks, ilices, and other shrubs, and whitch
admit occasionally a view of higher summits of the two mountains
covered with oaks, and at the summit of all with pines. Here
the road is passable only on foot, by a perilous ledge along
the side of the mountain of Suli; the river in the pass is
deep and rapid, and is seen at the bottom falling in many
places over the rocks, though at too great a distance to be
heard, and in most places inaccessible but the foot of a goat
or a Suliote."
I shall not soon forget the labour it cost to convey our
horses through this frightful gorge. In many places the rains
had carried away even what little footing there had origanally
been, and nothing remained but a bed of powdered rock sloping
off to the frightful gulf below; and all our efforts could
hardly induce or enable eache horse to cross singly. The muleteer
cried, and called on all the saints in the Greek calendar;
and all four of us united our strength to prevent the trembling
beast from rolling downwards. There were three of these passi
cattivi, and the sun was setting. I prepared to make up my
mind, if I escaped to Acheron, at least to repose all night
in the ravine.
At sunset we reached the only approach on this side of "the
blood-stained Suli" - an ascent of stairs winding up
the sides of the great rocks below Avariko - and very glad
was I to have accomplished this last and most dangerous part
of the journey. Before me is the hollow vale of Avariko, Kiafa,
and Suli - places now existing little more than in name; and
darkly looming against the clear western sky stands the dread
Trypa - the hill of Thunderbolts - the last retreat of the
despairing Suliotes.
Here, at the summit of the rock, Ali Pasha built a castle,
and within its walls I hope to pass the night. I reach it
at nearly two hours after sunset, the bright moon showing
me the Albanian governor and his twenty or thirty Palikari
sitting on the threshold of the gate. But as unluckily I had
not procured any letter from the Turkish authorities at Prevyza,
the rough old gentleman was obdurate, and would not hear of
my entering the fortress. "Yok," said he, frowning
fiercely, "yok, yok." And had it not been for the
good-nature of a Turkish officer of engineers who had arrived
from Ioannina on a visit of inspection, I must have passed
the night supperless and shelterless. Thanks to him, men and
horses were at length admitted to the interior of the forth.
I was ushered through several dilapidated courtyards to the
inner serai or governors house - a small building with wide
galleries round two sides of it. In a narrow and low room,
surrounded with sofas,the military dignitary sate down with
his suite of "wild Albanians;" and to be polite,
I followed their example; but the excessive smoke of the wood
fire, added to that of the tchibouques, was so painfull a
contrat to the fresh air, that it was almost intolerable.
No Greek was spoken; so Andrea was called in, and they expressed
their conviction that I "looked miserable - neither eating,
nor talking, nor smoking" - an accusation I willingly
acceded to, for the sake of rest and fresh air, and transfered
my position with all haste to the outer gallery. There I had
my mattress and capotes spread, and old Andrea brought me
a capital basin of rice soup. It had been a severe day´s
labour for a man of his years and great size, and during the
passage of the gorge, he had more than once been unable to
advance for some minutes; yet, with his wonted alacrity, he
had not only prepared my bed as usual, but had exercised his
talent for cooking withal.
I gazed on the strange, noiseless figures about me, bright
in the moonlight, which tipped with silver the solemn lofty
mountains around. For years those hills had rarely ceased
to echo the cries of animosity, despair, and agony; now all
is silent as the actors in that dreadful drama.
Few scenes can compete in my memory with the wildness of
this at the castle of Kiafa, or Suli-Kastro; and excepting
in the deserts of Sinai, I have gazed on none more picturesque
and strange.
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| "Suli May 5 1849
- Indefinite black gorge", Zeichnung von Edward Lear |
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May 6 1849
Before sunrise every one was on foot; but the military duties
of the garrison were interrupted by the circumstance of my
being obliged to wash my face in public. Unlike the Turkish
Mohammedan, the Albanian prefers satisfying curiosity to the
maintaining of dignity. Officers and men came hastily, on
the report of the Frank´s extravagance, to gaze at the
extraordinary proceeding. I believe they thought it a species
of water-worship.
I passed some hours on the rock of Trypa, and a more mighty
scene of grandeur can hardly be conceived. On each of the
jutting ends of horns of the hill, which is semicircular in
shape, there was formerly a fortress. These are now destroyed;
but from their ruins the view is most Characteristic, and
seems as it were a part of the sad Suliote history, so darkly
and terribly magnificent. One little peep towards the east
shows the gulf of Arta with its hills beyond the stern precipices
of the Acheron; that to the west looks on to the plain of
Fanari and the Ionian Sea, while in each picture the deep,
deep river rolls far below in its close and wooded gulf. (4)
At eight, the baggage having gone before, I took leave of
the cross old Governor. I had distributed some coffee to his
men; but he nevertheless asked for some articles for himself,
begging I would send to Suli from the next large place I came
to, a mirror, a good telescope, four wine glasses, and a cut
glass bottle for rakhee; pistols, scissors, and English cloth;
all of which things Andrea said, in Albania, that would forward
on the first opportunity; which lavish promises, as I did
not hear them made, as I did not feel bound to observe.
The descent westward to the Acheron is a difficult narrow
path, in some places of extrem steepnes, but of course not
like the route of yesterday, which was never intended to horses.
At the bottom of the ravine, they ford the deep rapid torrent,
while I go on to a point beyond the junction of astream where
the Acheron is crossed by a bridge. But what a bridge! The
river, confined between two very narrow perpendicular crags,
boils and thunders below them, while the space between is
conected by two poles, over which branches of trees are laid
transversaly, and over all a covering of leaves and earth,
by way of pavement; an awkward structure, and one well calculated
to render the approach to Suli, even on this side, a matter
of difficulty. Slowly on hands and knees, and holding the
poles, I passed this bridge over the river of Pluto, its oscillations
being far from pleasant; but the huge Andrea manifested much
solicitude ere he ventured his heavy frame on the slight support,
throwing his shoes and most of his dress over to the other
side, before he attemted to cross. On the left bank, the road
thenceforward becomes a little less difficult; and after following
several windings of the stream, sometimes at a great height
above it, finally leaves the tremendous gorge of the Acheron
for the level plain of Fanari, on which I was once more glad
to welcome the familiar lentisk and clumps of squills.
Shortly we again forded the Acheron, here, in the vicinity
of the ruined church of Glyky, a broad and considerable river;
the Albanians who accompanied me breasting the rapid waters
on foot, hand in hand. At every turn of the gorge through
which the river escapes, there are views of Suli most varied
and magnificent, but from this point its general aspect is
most strikingly noble. (5)
Anxious to reach Parga ere night, I did not visit the ruins
of Glyky, but pursued the route in the plain, through rice-grounds,
to the village of Potamia, (6) where at mid-day
we halt.
I could well have liked to have made many studies of this
wild homes of Tzamouria; but the difficulty of drawing during
the whole of the day is great, especially at this period,
when the heat begins to be oppressive, and a little neglect
and idleness is excusable, though often afterwards regretted.
After an hour and a half of repose, below large vine-hung
willow-trees, lulled by the murmur of inumerable bees, and
always jealously watched by a score or two of the ferocious
dogs which guard this villages, it was time to proceed once
more, and we again rode on towards the sea.
A good deal of time was devoted to picking our way among
the ditches and irrigations of the rice-grounds, which are
very extensive in this part of the marshy plain of Fanari;
the paths among them form a perfect labyrinth, and much labour
is lost in making useless detours. At length, however, we
crossed the Vuvo (7) by a bridge, and leaving
the Acherousian plains, took a course eastward towards Parga.
Another hour was wasted by the muleteer persisting in the
descent of a ravine, which conducted to no place whatever.
There were new cuts of mule tract also, which evidently greatly
puzzled poor old Andrea, who had not been here since 1833;
and by the time we arrived at the hills on the coast looking
towards Paxos, the sun was very low, and there were no symptoms
of Parga. It was so late, that as his new broad track seemed
necessarily about to lead to some village, an experimental
retrograde move was objectionable, so we went onwards, though
by the winding of the path over cliffs to the south, it was
evident to me that Parga was not to be my home to-nignt.
A tength we entered a thick wood, and began to descend rapidly,
when lo! once more we were in sight of the Acherusian plains,
with the port of Fanari or Splanza at our feet. The route
we had followed by mistake was a new one, lately made from
that increasing village to Parga and Paramythia; but the discovery
of this error threw poor old Andrea into great distress.
"Old age is coming upon me, and my memory is going,"
said he; "I never missed my way before, and now for the
first time I perceive that I shall be unable to act as guide
any longer. I, my wife, and my daughter, shall all die of
starvation."
In vain I declared, in order to comfort him, that he had
done me a great service, for I particularly wished to have
a drawing of the ancient port Glycys Limen, which in reality
is a beautiful scene. The poor old fellow was inconsolable,
so I sent him onward with the baggage, and remained until
the sun had set, sketching the quiet little bay and its village,
at the edge of the marshy plain, with the beautiful island
of Leucadia forming the backgrond.
It became dark ere I reached the edge of the thick wood;
and in places where the track divided, the Albanian who led
my horse, felt (for it was too dark to see) for the freshest
traces left by the horse´s shoes, on the edgees of the
flints in the path. I left the thicket, and on rounding the
hill which overhangs the marsh, I saw Andrea and the horses
far on the shore, 'lit by a large low moon;' and following
the edge of the Acherusian swamp, that sparkled with myriads
of fireflies, I reached the sands of the calm bay, and the
hamlet of Splantza, where I found lodging provided in the
large room of a Greek family, agents to the people whom I
knew at Prevyza, and who were glad to make any arrangment
for my comfort.
Late at night I strolled on to the bright sands, and enjoyed
the strange scene: air seems peopled with fireflies, earth
with frogs, which roar and croak from the wide Acherusian
marsh; lowwalled huts cluster around; Albanians are stretched
on mats along the shore; huge watchdogs lie in circle round
the village; the calm sea ripples; and the faint outline of
the hills of desolate Suli, is traced against the clear and
spangled sky.
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(1) Primate, the first or head proprictor
of a Greek village. (back)
(2) As some notice of the Suliote history
may be desirable, I and as much matter as is necessary to
illustrate the subject. The mountain of Suli may be conjectured
to have been occupied by Albanians about the thirteenth or
fourteenth century, and when the greater part of the surrounding
country lapsed to the Mohammedan faith, the race of hardy
mountaineers adhered firmly to Christianity.
During the eighteenth century, the Suliotes carried on a
predatory warfare with the surrounding territories of Margariti,
Paramithia, &c., but when Ali Pasha, under pretext of
reducing disaffected districts to the obedience due to the
Sultan, had subdued all the surrounding tribes, the inhabitants
of Suli found that he was an enemy, determined either by craft
or force to disposses them of their ancestral inheritance.
From 1788 to 1792, innumerable were the artifices of Ali to
obtain possesion of this singular stronghold; in the latter
year he made an attack on it, which nearly proved fatal to
himself, while his army was defeated with great slaughter.
In 1798, after six years of bribery and skirmishing, a portion
of the territory of Suli was gained by the Mohammedans, through
treachery of some inhabitants, and thenceforward the accounts
of the protracted siege of this devoted people is a series
of remarkable exploits and resolute defence, by Suliotes of
both sexes, seldom paralleled in history.
Every foot of the tremendous passes leading to Suli was contested
in blood ere the besieger gained firm footing; and after he
had done so, the rock held out an incredible period, untill
famine and treachery worked out the downfall of this unfortunate
people.
Then in 1803, many escaped by passing through the enemy´s
camp, many by paths unknown to their pursuers; numbers fled
to the adjancent rocks of Zalongo and Seltzo; others destroyed
themselves, together with the enemy, by gunpowder, or in a
last struggle; or threw themselves into the Acheron, or from
precipices. Those of this brave people who ultimately escaped
to Parga, crossed over to Korfu, and thence entered to the
service of Russia an France. Many since the days of Greek
independence, have returned to various part of Epiris, or
Greece, but they have no longer a country or a name, and the
warlike tribe who, at the height of their power, formed a
confederacy of sixty-six villages, may now be said to be extinct.
(back)
See Leake, Northern Greece, Vol.I. p.501; Holland, p.448;
Hobhouse, p.174; Hughes, II.Chapter, 6, 7, 8, &c.
(3) The river of Suli is the Acheron of antiquity.
(back)
(4) From the precipices impending over this
ravine; it is related that the Suliote women threw their children,
when the contest for their liberty had come to an end. To
such a spot the epithet given by Aristophanes, "the rock
of Acheron dropping blood," may indeed be well aplied.
Holland, p.452 (back)
(5) See the description of this spot by Col.
Leake, whose remarks on scenery combine the taste of a landscape
painter to the accuracy of a geographer. "Three tiers
of steep, and almost precipitous rocks present themeselves
in front, appearing through the gorge of the river, the hill
of Trypa, crowned with the Castle of Kiafa, between to smaller
buildings at either end of the ridge. Above all rises the
mountain of Suli, apparently double the height of Trypa, the
elevation of which, above Glyky, seems to be about 1200 feet."
Leake, North. Greece, IV.57. (back)
(6) The appearance of this and similar Albanian
villages, is well described by Mr. Hughes, at his visit in
1815, and will perfectly well serve for their illustration
in 1849 - the best huts consisting of hurdles, were constructed
formed "only of branches of trees, half cut through,
which being turned down and fastened to the ground, form a
kind of tent, to which the trunk of the tree serves as a pole.
Notwithstanding its apparent misery, the village has a curious
and picturesque appearance, being intersected with green alleys,
covered with vines, shaded by trees, and adorned with a vast
quantity of flowers for the nourishment of bees, which every
family seemed to cultivate." Hughes, II.437. (back)
(7) The ancient Cocytus. Leake. (back)
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