LET LORD BYRON (1788-1824)
PART 1
TO HIS
MOTHER
Prevesa,
November 12, 1809
My dear Mother,
I have now been some time in Turkey: this
place is on the cost, but I have traversed the interior of the province of
Albania on a visit to the Pacha. I left Malta in the Spider, a brig of war, on
the 21st of September, and arrived in eight days at Prevesa. I thence have been
about 150 miles, as far as Tepaleen, his Highness's country palace, where I
stayed three days. The name of the Pacha is Ali,
and he is considered a man of the first abilities: he governs the whole of
Albania (the ancient Illyricum), Epirus, and part of Macedonia. His son, Vely
Pacha, to whom he has given me letters, governs the Morea, and has great
influence in Egypt; in short, he is one of the most powerful men in the Ottoman
empire. When I reached Yanina, the capital, after a journey of three days over
the mountains, through a country of the most picturesque beauty, I found that
Ali Pacha was with his army in Illyricum, besieging Ibrahim Pacha in the castle
of Berat. He had heard that an Englishman of rank was in his dominions, and
left orders in Yanina with the commandant to provide a house, amd supply me
with every kind of necessary gratis;
and, though I have been allowed to make presents to the slaves, etc., I have
not been permitted to pay for a single article of household consumption.
I rode out on the vizier's horse, and saw
the palaces of himself and grandson: they are splendid, but too much ornamented
with silk ad gold. I then went over the mountains through Zitza, a village with
a Greek monastery (where I slept on my return), in the most beautiful situation
(always excepting Cintra, in Portugal) I ever beheld. In nine days I reached
Tepaleen. Our journey was much prolonged by the torrents that had fallen from
the mountains, and intersected the roads. I shall never forget the singular
scene on entering Tepaleen at five in the afternoon, as the sun was going down.
It brought to my mind (with some change of dress,
however) Scott's description of Branksome Castle in his Lay, and the feudal system. The Albanians, in their dresses (the
most magnificent in the world, consisting of a long white kilt, gold-worked cloak, crimson velvet gold-laced jacket and
waistcoat, silver-mounted pistols and draggers), the Tartars with their high
caps, the Turks in their vast pelisses and turbans, the soldiers and black
slaves with the horses, the former in groups in an immense large open gallery
in front of the palace, the latter placed in a kind of cloister below it, two
hundred steeds ready caparisoned to move in a moment, couriers entering or
passing out with the despatches, the kettle-drums beating, boys calling the
hour from the minaret of the mosque, altogether, with the singular appearance
of the building itself, formed a new and delightful spectacle to a stranger. I
was conducted to a very handsome apartment, and my health inquired after by the
vizier's secretary, à la modeTurque!
The next day I was introduced to Ali
Pacha. I was dressed in a full suit od staff uniform, with a very magnificent
sabre, etc. The vizier received me in a large room paved with marble; a
fountain was playing in the centre; the apartment was surrounded by scarlet
ottomans He received me standing, a wonderful compliment from a Mussulman, and
made me sit down on his right hand. I have a Greek interpreter for general use,
but a physician of Ali's named Femlario, who understands Latin, acted for me on
this occasion. His first question was, why, at so early ana age, I left my
country?– (the Turks have no idea of travelling for amusment). He then said,
the English minister, Captain Leake, had told him I was of a great family, and
desired his respects to my mother; which I now, in the name of Ali Pacha,
present to you. He said he was certain I was a man of birth, because I had
small ears, curling hair, and little white hands, and expressed himself pleased
with my appearance and garb. He told me to consider him as a father whilst I
was in Turkey, and said he looked on me as his son. Indeed, he treated me like
a child, sending me almonds and sugared sherbet, fruit and sweetmeats, twenty
times a day. He begged me to vist him often, and at night, when he was at leisure.
I then, after coffee and pipes, retired for the first time. I saw him thrice
afterwards. It is singular that the Turks, who have no hereditary dignities,
and few great families, except the Sultans, pay so much respect to birth; for I
found my pedigree more regarded than my title.
To-day I saw the remains of the town of
Actium, near which Antony lost the world, in a small bay, where two frigates
could hardly maneuvre: a broken wall is the sole remnant. On another part of
the gulf stand the ruins of Nicopolis, built by Augustus in honour of his
victory. Last night I was at a Greek marriage; but this and a thousand things
more I have neither the time nor space to describe.
His highness is sixty years old, very
fat, and not tall, but with a fine face, light blue eyes, and a
white beard; his manner is very kind, and at the same time he possesses that
dignity which I find universal amongst the Turks. He has the appearance of
anything but his real character, for he is a remorseless tyrant, guilty of the
most horrible cruelties, very brave, and so good a general that they call him
the Mahomettan Buonaparte. Napoleon has twice offered to make him King of
Epirus, but he prefers the English interest, and abhors the French, as he
himself told me. He is of so much consequence, that he is much courted by both,
the Albanians being the most warlike subjects of the Sultan, although Ali is
only nominally dependent on the Porte; he has been a mighty warrior, but is as
barbarous as he is successful, roasting rebels, etc. Buonaparte sent him a
snuff-box with his picture. He said the snuff-box was very well, but the
picture he could excuse, as he neither liked it nor the original. His ideas of
judging of a man's birth from ears, hands etc., were curious enough. To me he
was, indeed, a father, giving me letters, guards and every possible
accomodations. Our next conversations were of war and travelling, politics and
England. He called my Albanian soldier, who attends me, and told him to protect
me at all hazard; his name is Viscillie, and, like all the Albanians, he is
brave, rigidly honest, and faithful; but they are cruel, though not
treacherous, and have several vices but no meanness. They are perhaps the most
beautiful race, in point of countenance, in the world; their women are
sometimes handsome also, but they are treated like slaves, beaten, and, in short, complete beasts of burden; they plough, dig,
and sow. I found them carrying wood, and actually repairing the highways. The
men are all soldiers, and war and the chase their sole occupations. The women
are the labourers, which after all is no great hardship in so delightful a
climate. Yesterday, the 11th of November, I bathed in the sea; to-day is so hot
that I am writing in a shady room of the English consul's, with three doors
wide open, no fire, or even fireplace,
in the house, except for culinary purposes.
I am going to-morrow, with a guard of
fifty men, to Patras in the Morea, and thence to Athens, where I shall winter.
Two days ago I was nearly lost in a Turkish ship of war, owing to the ignorance
of the captain and crew, though the storm was not violent. Fletcher yelled
after his wife, the Greeks called on all their saints, the Mussulmans on Alla;
the captain burst into tears and ran below deck, telling us to call on God; the
sails were split, the main-yard shivered, the wind blowing fresh, the night
setting in, and all our chance was to make Corfu, which is in possession of the
French, or (as Fletcher pathetically termed it) "a watery grave". I
did what I could to console Fletcher, but finding him incorrigible, wrapped
myself up in my Albanian capote (an immense cloak), and lay down on deck to
wait the worst. I have learnt to philosophise in my travels; and if I had not,
complaint was useless. Luckily the wind abated, and only drove us on the coast
of Suli, on the main land, where we landed, and proceeded, by the help of the
natives, to Prevesa again; but I shall not trust Turkish sailors in future,
though the Pacha had ordered one of his own galliots to take me to Patras. I am
therefore going as far as Missolonghi by land, and there have only to cross a
small gulf to get to Patras.
Fletcher's next epistle will be full of
marvels. We were one night lost for nine hours in the mountains in a
thunder-storm, and since nearly wrecked. In both cases Fletcher was sorely
bewildered, from apprehensions of famine and banditti in the first, and
drowning in the second instance. His eyes were a little hurt by the lightning,
or crying (I don't know which), but are now recovered. When you write, address
to me at Mr. Strané's, English consul, Patras, Morea.
I could tell you I know not how many
incidents that I think would amuse you, but they crowd on my mind as much as
they would swell my paper, and I can neither arrange them in the one, nor put
them down on the other, except in the greatest confusion. I like the Albanians
much; they are not all Turks; some tribes are Christians. But their religion
makes little difference in their manner or conduct. They are esteemed the best
troops in the Turkish service. I lived on my route, two days at once, and three
days again, in a barrack at Salora, and never found soldiers so tolerable,
though I have been in the garrisons of Gibraltar ad Malta, and seen Spanish,
French, Sicilian and British troops in abundance. I have had nothing stolen,
and was always welcome to their provision and milk. Not a week ago an Albanian
chief, (every village has its chief, who is called Primate), after helping us
out of the Turkish galley in her distress, feeding us, and lodging my suite,
consisting of Fletcher, a Greek, two Athenians, a Greek priest, and my
companion. Mr. Hobhouse, refused any compensation but a written paper stating
that I was well received; and when I pressed him to accept a few sequins,
"No," he replied; "I wish you to love me, not to pay me".
These are his words.
It is astonishing how far money goes in
this country. While I was in the capital I had nothing to pay by the vizier's
order; but since, though I have generally had sixteen horses, and generally six
or seven men, the expense has not been half
as much as staying only three weeks in Malta, though Sir A. Ball, the governor,
gave me a house for nothing, and I had only one
servant. By the by, I expect Hanson to remit regularly; for I am not about
to stay in this province for ever. Let him write to me at Mr. Strané's, English
consul, Patras. The fact is, the fertility of the plains is wonderful, and
specie in scarce, which makes this remarkable cheapness. I am going to Athens,
to study modern Greek, which differs much from the ancient, though radically
similar. I have no desire to return to England, nor shall I, unless compelled
by absolute want, and Hanson's neglect; but I shall not enter into Asia for a
year or two, as I have much to see in Greece, and I may perhaps cross into
Africa, at least the Egyptian part. Fletcher, like all Englishmen, is very much
dissatisfied, though a little reconciled to the Turks by a present of eighty
piastres from the vizier, which, if you consider every thing, and the value of
specie here, is nearly worth ten guineas English. He has suffered nothing but
from cold, heat, and vermin, which those who lie in cottages and cross
mountains in a cold country must undergo, and of which I have equally partaken
with himself; but he is not valiant, and is afraid of robbers and tempests. I
have no one to be remembered to in England, and wish to hear nothing from it,
but that you are well, and a letter or two on business from Hanson, whom you
may tell to write. I will write when I can, and beg you to believe me.
Your affectionate son, BYRON
P.S.– I have some very
"magnifiques" Albanian dresses, the only expensive articles in this
country. They cost fifty guineas each, and have so much gold, they would cost
in England two hundred.
I have been introduced to Hussein Bey, and
Mahmout Pacha, both little boys, grandchildren of Ali, at Yanina; they are
totally unlike our lads, have painted complexions like rouged dowagers, large
black eyes, and features perfectly regular. They are the prettiest little
animals I ever saw, and are broken into the court ceremonies already. The
Turkish salute is a slight inclination of the head, with the hand on the heart;
intimates always kiss. Mahmout is ten years old, and hopes to see me again; we
are friends without understanding each other, like many other folks, though
from a different cause. He has given me a letter to his father in the Morea, to
whom I have also letters from Ali Pacha.
TO HENRY
DRURY
Salsette frigate, May 3, 1810
My dear Drury,
When I left England, nearly a year ago,
you requested me to write to you – I will do so. I have crossed Portugal,
traversed the south of Spain, visited Sardinia, Sicily, Malta, and thence
passed into Turkey, where I am still wandering. I first landed in Albania, the
ancient Epirus, where we penetrated as far as Mount Tomarit – excellently
treated by the chief Ali Pacha, – and, after journeying through Illyria,
Chaonia, etc., crossed the Gulf of Actium, with a guard of fifty Albanians, and
passed the Achelous in our route through Acarnania and Aetolia. We stopped a
short time in the Morea, crossed the Gulf of Lepanto, and landed at the foot of
the Parnassus: – saw all that Delphi retains, and so on to Thebes and Athens,
at which last we remained ten weeks.
His Majesty's ship, Pylades, brought us to Smyrna; but not before we had topographised
Attica, including, of course, Marathon and the Sunian promontory. From Smyrna
to the Troad (which we visited when at anchor, for a fortnight, off the tomb of
Antilochus) was our next stage; and now we are in the Dardanelles, waiting for
a wind to proceed to Constantinople
This morning I swam from Sestos to Abydos. The immediate distance is not
above a mile, but the current renders it hazardous; – so much so that I doubt
whether Leander's conjugal affection must not have been a little chilled in his
passage to Paradise. I attempted it a week ago, and failed, – owing to the
north wind, and the wonderful rapidity of the tide, – though I have been from
my childhood a strong swimmer. But, this morning being calmer, I succeeded, and
crossed the "broad Hellespont" in an hour and ten minutes.
Well, my dear sir, I have left my home,
and seen part of Africa and Asia, and a tolerable portion of Europe. I have
been with generals and admirals, princes and pashas, governors and
ungovernables, – but I have not time or paper to expatiate. I wish to let you
know that I live with a friendly remembrance of you, and a hope to meet you
again; ad if I do this as shortly as possible, attribute it to any thing but
forgetfullness.
Greece, ancient and modern, you know too
well to require description. Albania, indeed, I have seen more of than any
Englishman (except Mr. Leake), for it is a country rarely visited, from the
savage charater of the natives, though abounding in more natural beauties than
the classical regions of Greece, – which, however, are still eminently beautiful, particularly Delphi and Cape
Colonna in Attica. Yet these are nothing to parts of Illyria and Epirus, where
places without a name, and rivers not laid down in maps, may, one day, when
more known, be justly esteemed superior subjects, for the pencil and the pen,
to the dry ditch of the Ilissus and the bogs of Boeotia.
The Troad is a fine field for conjectures
and snipe-shooting, and a good sportsman and an ingenious scholar may exercise
their feet and faculties to great advantage upon the spot; – or, if they prefer
riding, lose their way (as I did) in a cursed quagmire of the Scamander, who
wriggles about as if the Dardan virgins still offered their wonted tribute. The
only vestige of Troy, or her destroyers, are the barrows supposed to contain
the carcasses of Achilles, Antilochus, Ajax, etc.; – but Mount Ida is still in
high feather, though the shepherds are now-a-days not much like Ganymede. But
why should I say more of these things? are they not written in the Boke of Gell? [We owe to sir William Gell important works such as Topography of Troy, Geography and Antiquities of Ithaca etc.] and has not Hobhouse got
a journal? I keep none, as I have renounced scribbling.
I see not much difference between
ourselves and the Turks, save that we have ***
and they have none – that they have long dresses, and we short, and that
we talk much, and they little. They are sensible people. Ali Pacha told me he
was sure I was a man of rank, because I had small
ears and hands, and curling hair. By the by, I speak the
Romaic, or modern Greek, tolerably. It does not differ from the ancient
dialects so much as you would conceive; but the pronunciation is diametrically
opposite. Of verse, except in rhyme, they have no idea.
I like the Greeks, who are plausible
raskals, – with all the Turkish vices, without their courage. However, some are
brave, and all are beautiful, very much resembling the busts of Alcibiades; the
women not quite so handsome. I can swear in Turkish; but, except one horrible
oath, and "pimp", and "bread", and "water", I
have got no great vocabulary in that language. They are extremely polite to
strangers of any rank, properly protected; and as I have two servants and two
soldiers, we get on with great éclat.
We have been occasionally in danger of thieves, and once of shipwreck, – but
always escaped.
Of Spain I sent some account to our
Hodgson, but have subsequently written to no one, save notes to relations and
lawyers, to keep them out of my premises. I mean to give up all connection, on
my return, with many of my best friends – as I supposed them – and to snarl all
my life. But I hope to have one good-humoured laugh with you, and to embrace
Dwyer, and pledge Hodgson, before I commence cynicism.
Tell Dr. Butler I am now writing with the
gold pen he gave me before I left England, which is the reason my scrawl is
more unintelligible than usual. I have been at Athens, and seen plenty of these
reeds for scribbling, some of which he refused to bestow upon me, because
topographic Gell had brought them from Attica. But I will not describe, – no –
you must be satisfied with simple detail till my return, and then we will
unfold the flood-gates of colloquy. I am in a thirty-six gun frigate, going up
to fetch Bob Adair from Constantinople, who will have the honour to carry this
letter...
Remember me to Claridge, if not translated
to college, ad present to Hodgson assurances of my high consideration. Now, you
will ask, what shall I do next? and I answer, I do not know. I may return in a
few months, but I have intents and projects after visiting Constantinople. –
Hobhouse, however, will probably be back in September.
On the 2nd of July we have left Albion one
year – oblitus meorum obliviscendus et
illis. I was sick of my own country, and not much prepossessed in favour of
any other; but I "drag on my chain" without "lengthening it at
each remove." I am like the Jolly Miller, caring for nobody, and not cared
for. All countries are much the same in my eyes. I smoke, and stare at
mountains, and twirl my moustachios very independently. I miss no comforts, and
the musquitoes that rack the morbid frame of H. have, luckily for me, little
effect on mine, because I live more temperatly.
I omitted Ephesus in my catalogue, which I
visited during my sojourn at Smyrna; but the Temple has almost perished, and
St. Paul need not trouble himself to epistolise the present brood of Ephesians,
who have converted a large church built entirely of marble into a mosque, and I
don't know that the edifice looks the worse for it.
My paper is full, and my ink ebbing – good
afternoon! If you address to me at Malta, the letter will be forwarded wherever
I may be. H. greets you; he pines for his poetry, – at least, some tidings of
it. I almost forgot to tell you that I am dying for love of three Greek girls
at Athens, sisters. I lived in the same house. Teresa [see NOTE at the end of
this letter], Mariana, and Katinka, are the names of these divinities, – all of
them under fifteen.
Your tapeinotato" doulo", Byron
NOTE
The girl Lord Byron alludes to here is, naturally,
the one who inspired his famous poem "Maid of Athens", whose text we
offer you in its entirety.
MAID OF
ATHENS, ERE WE PART
ÆùÞ ìïõ, óÜò áãáðþ
Maid of
Athens, ere we part,
Give, oh
give me back my heart!
Or,
since that has left my breast,
Keep it
now, and take the rest!
Hear my
vow before I go,
ÆùÞ ìïõ, óÜò áãáðþ.
By those
tresses unconfined,
Woo'd by
each Aegean wind;
By those
lids whose jetty fringe
Kiss thy
soft cheeks' blooming tinge;
By those
wild eyes like the roe,
ÆùÞ ìïõ, óÜò áãáðþ.
By that
lip I long to taste;
By that
zone-encircled-waist;
By all
the token-flowers that tell
What
words can never speak so well:
By
love's altenate joy and woe,
ÆùÞ ìïõ, óáò áãáðþ.
Maid of
Athens! I am gone:
Think of
me, sweet! when alone,
Though I
fly to Istambol,
Athens
holds my heart and soul:
Can I
cease to love thee? No!
ÆùÞ ìïõ,
óÜò áãáðþ.
Athens
1810
TO
FRANCIS HODGSON
Salsette frigate, in the Dardanelles,
off
Abydos, may 5, 1810
I am on my way to Constatinople, after a
tour through Greece, Epirus, etc., and part of Asia Minor, some particulars of
which I have just communicated to our friend and host, H. Drury. With these,
then, I shall not trouble you; bur as
you will perhaps be pleased to hear that I am well, etc., I take the
opportunity of our ambassador's return to forward the few lines I have time to
despatch. We have undergone some inconveniences, and incurred partial perils,
but no events worthy of communication, unless you will deem it one that two day
ago I swam from Sestos to Abydos. This, with a few alarms from robbers, and
some danger of shipwreck in a Turkish galliot six months ago, a visit to a
Pacha, a passion for a married woman at Malta, a challenge to an officer, an
attachment to three Greek girls at Arthens, with a great deal of buffoonery and
fine prospects, form all that has distinguished my progress since my departure
from Spain.
Hobhouse rhymes and journalises; I stare and do nothing – unless smoking
can be deemed an active amusement. The Turks take too much care of their women
to permit them to be scrutinised; but I have lived a good deal with the Greeks,
whose modern dialect I can converse in enough for my purposes. With the Turks I
have also some male acquaintances – female
society is out of the question. I have been very well treated by the Pachas
and Governors, and have no complaint to make of any kind. Hobhouse will one day
inform you of all our adventures – were I to attempt the recital, neither my paper nor your patience woud hold out during the operation.
Nobody, save yourself, has written to me
since I left England; but indeed I did not request it. I except my relations,
who write quite as often as I wish. Of Hobhouse's volume I know nothing, except
that it is out; and of my second edition I do not even know that, and certainly do not, at this
distance, interest myself in the matter. I hope you and Bland roll down the
stream of sale with rapidity.
Of my return I cannot positively speak,
but think it probable Hobhouse will precede me in that respect. We have been
very nearly one year abroad. I should wish to gaze away another, at least, in
these evergreen climates; but I fear business, law business, the worst of
employments, will recall me previous to that period, if not very quickly. If
so, you shall have due notice.
I hope you will find me an altered
personage, – I do not mean in body, but in manner, for I begin to find out that
nothing but virtue will do in this damned world. I am tolerably sick of vice,
which I have tried in its agreeable varieties, and mean, on my return, to cut
all my dissolute acquaintance, leave off wine and carnal company, and betake
myself to politics and decorum. I am very serious and cynical, and a good deal
disposed to moralise; but fortunately for you the coming homily is cut off by
default of pen and defection of paper.
Good morrow! If you write, address to me
at Malta, whence your letters will be forwarded. You need not remember me to
any body, but believe me,
Yours with all faith, Byron
P.S. –
My dear H., the day of my postsript "will prate to you of my
whereabouts". We anchored between the Seen Towers and the Seraglio on the
13th, and yesterday settled ashore. The ambassador is laid up; but the
secretary does the honours of the palace and we have a general invitation to
his palace. In a short time he has his leave of audience, and we accompany him
in our uniforms to the Sultan, etc., and in a few days I am to visit the
Captain Pacha with the commander of our frigate. I have seen enough of their
Pashas already; but I wish to have a view of the Sultan, the last of the
Ottoman race.
Of Constantinople you have Gibbon's
description, very correct as far as I have seen. The mosques I shall have a
firman to visit. I shall most probably (Deo
volente), after a full inspection of Stamboulf, bend my course homewards;
but this is uncertain. I have seen the most interesting parts, particularly
Albania, where few Franks have ever been, and all the most celebrated ruins of
Greece and Ionia.
Of England I know nothing, hear nothing,
and can find no person better informed on the subject than myself. I this
moment drink your health in a bumper of hock; Hobhouse fills and empties to the
same; do you and Drury pledge us in a pint of any liquid you please – vinegar
will bear the nearest resemblance to that which I have just swallowed to your
name; but when we meet again the draught shall be mended and the wine also.
Yours ever, B.