A few pages later Spencer described the country on a visit in 1850, after the uprising had, with Russia’s help, been ruthlessly put down. ‘The scene of ruin and desolation which everywhere met our view was perfectly appalling … we beheld traces of the barbarian hordes of half wild Croats, Wallachs, and Serbs, and we may add Austrians and Russians, who had so lately rode roughshod over the entire land, and by imperial authority massacred every human being of Magyar origin who fell into their hands; and even at this time, when it might be supposed that the worst passions of man’s nature would have been satiated by indulgence, there was scarcely any abatement in the cruelties exercised by the government towards this unfortunate people. The brutality of the soldiers was unrestrained, the vexatious insolence of the police unendurable – the sufferings of the unhappy prisoners who filled the dungeons of the fortresses and all the strong places were such as revengeful tyranny alone delights to inflict.’
Murray, in his guide of a few years later, tells us: ‘Police regulations are, in respect of passports, at least as stringent as in any other part of the Austrian dominions.’ He goes on to say: ‘The greater part of English travellers in Hungary are contented with a visit to Pest, which is most easily effected by descending the Danube from Vienna by steamer in 10 to 12 hours.’
Should you disregard this advice and go out of the main cities, Murray has other observations to pass on to you: ‘The Hungarian inns are on the whole the worst I have found in Europe. They are generally of one storey, planted in the midst of a court-yard ankle-deep in mud, with an arcade running round them; broken steps and uneven pavement lead up to them. Landlord and waiter are seldom at hand to receive a traveller when he presents himself; the attendance is slow and bad: but these are trifles. I am not over nice, but I must confess the public dining-room, with its tobacco fumes, dogs, the practice of spitting to excess, and not unfrequently the horrid smell of garlic, and, what is worse, the total absence of all attempt to purify the apartment, filled me with disgust. But you are no better off in the bed-rooms: they are equally bespitten, and as seldom cleaned. The spider nestles for ever in the corners, and his tapestry is the only drapery which adorns the bare walls. As for the beds, I shudder to think of them. With all the discomforts of those of Germany they have this in addition, that they are usually filthy. The sheets are sewn on to the coverlid, and how often they serve it is impossible to say. You must especially order clean sheets, and your desire will then be complied with. A bell is almost unknown, even in the chief towns. If you want anything, you must open your window or door and call out to the waiter. You need not expect an answer; but go down stairs, and you will find him in the passage curling his moustachios.’
A stout travelling carriage is absolutely necessary for getting around: ‘Except on one or two roads, Hungary affords nothing but common carts. Leather sheets are desirable, and sleeping in a carriage is often preferable to a bed. No Hungarian gentleman thinks of travelling without his sheets, pillow, pillow-case, and leather sheets. Mattresses are required by those about to penetrate from Hungary into the far east. Mosquito-curtains will be found of the greatest service to those who descend the Danube, and who value skin, sleep, or comfort, since myriads of those venomous insects are engendered on the marshy shores of the river.’
As for food, a chicken may be put on the traveller’s table within half an hour of arrival, ‘but in other respects the larders of the country inns are very badly provided; therefore let the traveller furnish a basket with cold meat, etc., and take several bottles of good wine from whatever starting point he may set out from.’
One of the main highways into the Balkans was the Danube, on which river steam navigation had been started by two English shipbuilders in 1828. Even so, they had ‘commenced the undertaking unaided by others, and, sharing the usual discouragements which attend strangers in a foreign land, they would have been compelled to abandon their plan, had it not received the encouragement of two enlightened noblemen’. The earliest boats were ‘vessels of a peculiar construction, used for the conveyance of pigs from Serbia to Vienna. Many of the engines are by well-known British engine-makers.’
To get downriver from Vienna to the Black Sea took five days on the faster steamers, which were ‘built after the American fashion, with a spacious deck saloon, and sleeping cabins behind. Provisions are not included in the fare, but there is a very tolerable restaurant on board, and the dinner-hour is 12 o’clock. The sleeping accommodation is not good, fleas are very numerous; there is a small ladies’ cabin, generally very crowded; and round the gentlemen’s cabin is a sofa or divan, serving instead of beds; but in summertime it often happens that there is not room for half the passengers, and the remainder must therefore sleep on the floor or on deck. The decks of the steamers are often crowded with merchandise, and the convenience of passengers is sacrificed to the accommodation of goods, inasmuch as they have barely room to stir. Two or three other inconveniences must be mentioned. The mosquitoes, gnats, etc., abound, especially in the lower part of the river; and to escape this plague it may be prudent to take a mosquito net. The marshy land at the mouth of the Danube is most unhealthy at certain seasons, teeming with fever and ague, which those who merely pass up and down without stopping do not always escape. The Hungarians almost surpass the Americans in the filthy habit of spitting, which is not always confined to the deck.’
If our traveller deviates from the river, to look for adventure in other parts of the Austrian dominions, the railway to Lemberg will take him through the land of the Slovaks, who are ‘a quiet, inoffensive, industrious people, but are said to be obstinate, avaricious, fond of flattery, and no great lovers of cleanliness’.
It may be as well to avoid Stuhlweissenburg where the ‘palace of the bishop, and some of the buildings connected with it, are handsome, but the whole town is disagreeably placed in the centre of a huge bog’.
A romantic story is related concerting the seventeenth-century castle of Murany, the residence of ‘the young and beautiful’ widow Maria Szecsi. She was a Protestant and, in defence of that cause, garrisoned her mountain fastness with a detachment of troops commanded by her brother-in-law. ‘The castle was amply furnished with provisions and ammunition; the troops brave and faithful; their commander, a staunch Protestant. Murany was therefore deemed impregnable, and the defenders laughed and made merry when, in 1644, they saw it invested by an imperial army under the Palatine Vesselenyi. The Palatine, however, soon managed to acquire possession of it, – not indeed by force of arms, but simply by marrying its fair occupant, gaining thus, at the same time, both the lady and the castle.’
Venturing into the wilder parts of Wallachia, one travelled in the common cart of the country, ‘made entirely of wood, without a particle of iron, very light, on low wheels, easily upset, and as easily righted. They are … capable of holding only one person, and, on account of the rude jolting, are only to be endured, by those accustomed to them, when filled with hay to sit or lie upon. 4 horses are harnessed to them, and they always go at full gallop, driven by a rough peasant on the near wheeler. The situation of a traveller in rainy weather, seated close behind, and on a level with the heels of 4 wild horses, is not agreeable; in a few minutes he becomes plastered over with mud.’
One of the crossing points into the Turkish Empire was at Belgrade which, to quote Captain Spencer, ‘with its picturesque old castle, its domes and minarets, first announces to the traveller on the Lower Danube that he has entered the territory of the unchanged and unchanging Land of the Crescent’.
Murray’s Turkey, 1854, says: ‘The traveller will find here a very good khan and a large German hotel. The once celebrated fortress of Belgrade is now only a picturesque ruin. This citadel, and a few other fortresses in Serbia, are garrisoned by Turkish troops, but Serbia is virtually independent.’
Constantinople can be reached from Belgrade, we are told, in 143 hours, though it had been performed ‘in 6 days by couriers riding day and night, and in 12 days by ordinary t
ravellers, who require 6 horses for himself, baggage, and tatar’. The cost was said to be £25, including £2 bakshish. ‘A Turkish shawl, sash, woollen overalls, leather trowsers, and two or three large cloaks, will be found convenient clothing, except in winter, when the “shaggy capote” is almost indispensable in the snowy passes. A pair of pistols worn in a belt may be advisable, rather in conformity with custom than for use.’
The Danubian principalities of Wallachia, Moldavia, Serbia, Bosnia, part of Croatia, Herzegovina, Montenegro, Bulgaria and Thrace were all under the control of the Turks. On one of his journies Captain Spencer passed through the town of Jassy, in a region of constantly shifting frontiers inhabited by ‘Boyards and Turks, Greeks, Armenians, Slavonians, and Jews’. Said to be beautifully situated it is, like everywhere else in the area, unhealthy. ‘There are, however, some signs of improvement at Jassy, since we see here and there an elegant mansion recently erected, and others in the hands of the builder.’ Of the various races, all are said to be
adhering as strictly to their own language and peculiar costume, as if their very existence depended upon the cut and form of their garments. Each of these nationalities also occupies a separate district in the town. The Jews are so numerous as to form about a third of the whole population, rather good-looking than otherwise, more especially the women, whose appearance was much improved by their half oriental dress. The velvet tiara, set with pearls and precious stones, is said to be of the same form as that worn by the court beauties in the days of King Solomon; which proves that the fair daughters of Israel in those days were so far coquettish as to invent a mode of head-dress well adapted to their peculiar style of beauty, as it certainly makes a pretty face look still more captivating; and I was assured by my Jew banker, whose guest I was during my stay at Jassy, that one of these head-dresses is not unfrequently worth five hundred pounds sterling, and descends as an heir-loom in the family.
Spencer goes on to tell us the same old story:
These poor people, the Jews, to whose industry and enterprise as merchants, traders, and shopkeepers, the state is indebted for a great part of its revenue, occasionally suffer severely from the fanaticism of the inhabitants, who are credulous enough to believe the most absurd reports that can be conceived. Still, the Jews of these countries, however averse they are in general to fighting, do not submit to be led like sheep to the slaughter; they are always prepared, if necessary, to repel force by force. Unhappily, these contests with the Christians of the Greek Church, both here and in Russia, are too frequent and sanguinary; and, singular enough, their rallying cry, Gewalt! Gewalt!, is in the German language; and when this is heard, the whole Hebrew population, men, women, and children, arm themselves with some weapon of defence, and rush to the scene of action.
Pursuing our slow way towards Constantinople and the Golden Horn, we would perhaps tarry awhile at Nissa where ‘the traveller is struck with the sight of a tower composed of skulls, erected to commemorate a victory over the Serbs by the Turks’. At Sofia, the hot baths were famous for their medicinal qualities, and: ‘Good accommodation may be found in a private Greek house.’ But the khan at Adrianople was ‘large and very dirty; a clean room, however, may be procured by means of bakshish to the innkeeper. An hotel according to European customs has of late been opened, but it can scarcely be considered preferable to the old khan.’
Those who went down the Danube to the Black Sea could take ship to Constantinople, and if they had not delayed, would have made the journey from England in about twelve days. A more leisurely method was to go all the way by sea on a P & O steamer in some fifteen days, the ship calling at Malta where, Murray says, ‘The higher classes of native Maltese are not surpassed by those of any country in general intelligence, in highly cultivated tastes, or in the accomplishments and personal character of individuals. But for many years it had been so much the practice of English residents to treat the Maltese with indifference or contempt, that there is very little opportunity for a stranger to form any opinion except from such examples as may be found in most places where a large fleet and garrison are stationed.’
A journey to the Mediterranean on a steamship from Liverpool took on the nature of a cruise, one line issuing a ticket, out and home, for thirty pounds. ‘A gentleman and his wife can obtain a reduction. This affords a most agreeable trip, particularly for an invalid, and occupies about six weeks or two months. Some of these are splendid vessels, and in the autumn there is often pleasant society.’ Should you go overland by rail as far as Trieste, and then on by boat: ‘The steamers are good, and each carries a doctor and stewardess.’
Travelling conditions and speeds were improving all through the nineteenth century, and by the end one could take the overland train to the Rumanian port of Constanza on the Black Sea, where ‘comfortable and well managed’ steamers went to Constantinople, the trip taking about four days. When the railway was opened to Salonika you could travel through Thrace, which shortened the journey even more.
Just before the First World War the Orient Express went into service ‘between London and Constantinople’ via Paris, Vienna, Budapest, Belgrade, Sofia and Adrianople. A copy of the timetable is given in the 1907 edition of Murray’s handbook, and Hachette published a special guide De Paris à Constantinople in 1912. This covered much of the Balkans and western Turkey, and it is hard to imagine anyone setting out on the journey without a copy, the latest Murray being by then out of date. The Orient Express did the 3200 kilometres from Paris in sixty hours, ‘without changing either train or carriage’, though a high supplement was payable on the first-class fare of the ordinary train.
Bradshaw’s Through Routes to the Capitals of the World, 1903, gave the route as via Paris in seventy-two hours, for the price of twenty-two pounds and eleven shillings, pointing out in the preface: ‘Travel is becoming more luxurious and more expensive. For the better accommodation provided and the greater speed attained the passenger has to pay.’
Half a century earlier, Murray had recommended the carrying of two pistols in the belt for the overland journey to the East. On the matter of public safety in 1903 Bradshaw comments: ‘A revolver is usually a tiresome encumbrance, never likely to be of service to those who are not well-practised shots. Where one must be carried, let it be a good one. In the few cases when one does want a revolver one wants it very badly, so let it be handy – not in the hip pocket, but in the side-pocket of the overcoat or jacket; not under the pillow, but down in the middle of the berth or bed, near the right hand; and at need do not hesitate to fire through the clothes, and before the weapon can be seen.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
GREECE AND EGYPT
Should a tour of Greece be taken in on the way to Egypt, Palestine and Turkey, Murray’s handbook of 1854 would be essential reading, since Baedeker’s Greece did not appear in English until 1889. Murray’s commonsense is early to the fore: ‘In Greece and the East generally, even more than in other countries, let the traveller bear in mind this important hint before starting – he should never omit visiting any object of interest whenever it happens to be within his reach at the time, as he can never be certain what impediments may occur to prevent him from carrying his intentions into effect at a subsequent period.’
After giving advice on protection against vermin Murray makes suggestions on the equipment to be taken: ‘A large and stout cotton umbrella is required as a protection not only from the rain, but also from the sun. A green veil, and blue or neutral-tinted spectacles, are very useful as a safeguard against the glare of the sun. A pocket-telescope, a thermometer, drawing materials, measuring tape, and the like, are luxuries to be provided or not, according to the taste and pursuits of each individual tourist.’
The section on kitting out quotes Edward Lear as saying: ‘Arms and ammunition, fine raiment, presents for natives, are all nonsense, simplicity should be your aim’, though Murray goes on to inform us that those who stay some time in the East, or sail in their own yachts, ‘will often wish
to leave some token of remembrance with officials. For this purpose the best articles to provide are a few pairs of English pistols, knives, pocket-telescopes, toys for children, and ornaments for ladies. Prints of the Queen, the Ministers etc., are very acceptable to the British Consular Agents, who are generally natives.’
A few pages of hints concerning health tell us that: ‘The abundance of fruit is a great temptation to foreigners, but nothing is more pernicious, or more likely to lead to fatal consequences.’ As for malaria: ‘No Eastern traveller should be without a small bottle of quinine pills, and a few simple directions for their use.’
Locomotion is by horse. ‘One hour is, on average, equivalent to about 3 English miles; though in level parts of the country, and with good horses, the traveller may ride much faster’, but ‘the usual rate of progress does not exceed from 20 to 25 miles a-day’.
Though hotels existed in Athens and other large places, charging about ten francs a day for full board, it was different in the countryside, where: ‘The keepers of coffee-houses and billiard-rooms (which are now very general) will always lodge a traveller, but he must expect no privacy here. He must live all day in public, and be content at night to have his mattress spread, with some twenty others belonging to the family or other guests, either on the floor or on a wooden divan which surrounds the room. When particular honour is to be shown to a guest, his bed is laid upon the billiard table: he never should decline this distinction, as he will thereby have a better chance of escape from vermin.’
Leading the Blind Page 19