CHAPTER XXXVII.
ROAD TO BAIDAR—THE SOUTHERN COAST; GRAND SCENERY—MISKHOR AND ALOUPKA—PREDILECTION OF THE GREAT RUSSIAN NOBLES FOR THE CRIMEA.
The country we passed over, next day, on our way to the southern coast, had a wild sylvan appearance strikingly in contrast with what we had hitherto seen. Between the valley of Karolez and that of Baidar near the coast, lies a chain of mountains with deep gorges filled with forests. Sometimes the road passed along the bottom of one of these gorges, where we were constantly obstructed by watercourses and thickets; sometimes we pursued a track barely discernible along the flank of the mountain, and then the summits of the hills that had seemed so high when we looked up to them from below, were hidden beneath us in dense vapours. At last, by dint of ascending and descending, we reached the wide plain of Baidar, with the village in its centre. Early next morning we were again on horseback, and breathing with delight the wild odours exhaled by the still dewy forest.
Our road ascended gently to the culminating point of the mountain, and then we stood rooted for a while to the spot in admiration of the magnificent sea view that burst upon us. But our thoughts were suddenly called off in another direction by the music of a military band, and looking down we were surprised to see several groups of soldiers posted some hundred feet below the point where we stood. It was a whole regiment employed in making a new road between Sevastopol and Ialta. Some were blowing up rocks, and filling the air with something like the din and smoke of battle; others were busy round a great fire preparing the morning meal; the musicians were waking the mountain echoes with their martial strains, and the officers were lounging in front of a tent smoking their pipes.
When we had sufficiently indulged our admiration of the scene, we turned with some dismay to contemplate the descent before us. The mountain which we had found so gently sloping on the western side, here fell so precipitously that I could not imagine how our horses were to make their way down. For my part I thought it safest to alight and lead my horse. The band of the regiment, as if they had guessed we were French, saluted us with the overture of the Fiancée. After we had already reached the seaside, we still heard that charming music, weakened by distance, but kindling our recollections of home in the most unexpected manner.
We spent some days at Moukhalatka, the residence of Colonel Olive, a Frenchman, formerly page to Louis XVIII., who entered the service of the Grand-duke Constantine shortly after the return of the Bourbons to France. Beyond Moukhalatka our way lay over mountains, the scenery of which partly compensated for the incessant toil of climbing up broken rocks, and passing through glens where we could only advance in single file. But with the exception of these difficulties, the whole journey to Aloupka was a continual enchantment. Talk of the isles of the Archipelago with their naked rocks! Here a luxuriant vegetation descends to the water's edge, and the coast everywhere presents an amphitheatre of forests, gardens, villages, and country houses, over which the eye wanders with delight. The almond, the cythesus, the wild chestnut, the Judas-tree, the olive, and the cypress, and all the vegetation of a southern clime, thrives there with a vigour that attests the potency of the sun. On our left we had gigantic masses towering vertically, sombre tints, and an inconceivable chaos of rocky fragments; on our right a brilliant mosaic bordered by the sea. But the beauty of the scenery about Aloupka is even still more striking. The eye takes in at once the majestic Tchatir Dagh, Cape Aïtodor, with its lighthouse, the Aiou Dagh, the brow of which, by a curious freak of nature, seems crowned with bastions and half-ruined towers, the Ai Petri, and the Megabi, with its gilded dome surmounted by a cross which was erected by the celebrated Princess Gallitzin, whose memory is still fresh in the Crimea. All these objects are clothed in a rich and varied garb of light such as belongs only to the warm atmosphere of southern lands.
Aristocracy has set its seal on this favoured portion of the coast. The change in the appearance of the roads indicates the neighbourhood of wealthy landowners. They have been made expressly for the dashing four-horse equipages that are continually traversing it. We observed that the limits of each estate were marked by a post bearing the blazonry of the proprietor.
We were most agreeably surprised in the neighbourhood of Aloupka, where we fell in on the road with our friend M. Marigny. In consequence of this welcome encounter we put off our visit to Aloupka to the next day, and proceeded with the consul to Mishkor, the estate of General Narishkin, adjoining that of Count Voronzof.
We were greatly pleased with this fine property, on the maintenance of which the general annually expends 100,000 francs. It comprises forests, a park, a château, a church, and a great number of ornamental buildings, that bespeak the exquisite taste of the proprietor. Mishkor has this great advantage, that its costly artificial arrangements are so well disguised under an appearance of rural simplicity, that one is almost tempted to attribute its perfections to the hand of nature.
The reverse is the case at Aloupka where art reigns supreme. This almost royal residence, which has excited the envy even of the Emperor Nicholas, has already cost Count Voronzof between 4,000,000 and 5,000,000 of francs, although it is not yet finished. All epochs and all styles are represented in its architecture and embellishments. Its lofty walls, its massive square tower and belfry, its vaulted passages and the mysterious aspect of its long galleries, give it a considerable resemblance to a feudal manor; but the Oriental style is exhibited in its small columns, its chimneys, and its profusion of pinnacles and domes. To justify the construction of such a porphyry château, the count should have been able to retrograde some centuries: in our own times such a dwelling is an anachronism. What is the use of such walls when there is no fear of being attacked by a neighbour? What is the use of those vaulted passages without men-at-arms to fill them? An old castle speaks to the imagination, recalling the chronicles, the fortunes and events connected with it, but a modern construction like this is a thing of no meaning. Its towers, battlements, and threatening walls seem a parody on the past. What have they seen? of what combats, feuds, loves, and revenges have they been witnesses?
In addition to this total want of fitness of character, the château has besides the grievous defect of being very disadvantageously situated. The coast is so narrow at this spot that there are but a few paces' breadth between the façade of the building and the sea, so that, in order to have a fair view of the whole, one must take a boat and put out from the shore until the proper point of view is found. Now it is not every one who will be disposed to take this trouble solely for the purpose of appreciating the effect of a façade.
The park displays a charming labyrinth of broken rocks, and a variety of natural picturesque and extraordinary features. Art has had nothing to do but to make paths and alleys between the accumulated volcanic masses, and to adorn the sides of the cascades with flowers. In the hollow of a rock there is a deep grotto with a little babbling spring, inviting to repose and meditation. At the eastern end of the château there is a lofty cypress wood, which the countess calls her Scutari.
The general aspect of this magnificent abode is too grave to delight the eye; we admire but do not covet it. The gigantic shadow of the Ai Petri, which hangs like a veil over the whole domain, adds still more to its sternness.
The reputation of the southern coast dates only from the arrival of Count Voronzof in the Crimea, previously to which no one thought of residing on it, except some speculators who were beginning to try the cultivation of the vine there. The count, who is a man of much taste, was at once struck with the beauty of the country, and soon became the purchaser of several estates in it. His example was followed by numbers of wealthy nobles whose eyes were immediately opened to the charms of the landscapes when once the count had proclaimed their attractions. Numerous villas were erected in the course of a few years along all the coast from Balaclava to Theodosia. A fleet of steamers was established, with the port of Ialta for their head quarters. The imperial family itself gave into the fashion and purchased Oreanda, one of the most beautiful sites on the coast; and many foreigners, infected by the prevailing fever, turned all they had into money and settled in the Crimea to cultivate the vine, a pursuit which Count Voronzof was then encouraging to the utmost of his power. But this was the reverse of the medal; most of them were ruined, and are now expiating in extreme poverty the cupidity with which they plunged into foolish enterprises.
Throughout its whole extent the coast presents only a narrow strip, seldom half a league wide, traversed by deep ravines, and backed by a range of calcareous cliffs that shelter it from the north wind. It is only on this detritus that the handsomest domains are situated. Among these are Koutchouk Lampat, belonging to General Borosdine; Parthenit, where is still to be seen the great hazel under which the Prince de Ligne wrote to Catherine II.; Kisil Tasch, the proprietor of which bears a name famous in France, that of Poniatowski; Oudsouf, lying close under the forest shades of Aiou Dagh; Arteck the estate of Prince Andrew Gallitzin; Ai Daniel, the property of the late Duc de Richelieu; Marsanda; Oreanda, an imperial domain; Mishkor and Nikita; Gaspra where Madame de Krudener died in the arms of her daughter, Baroness Berckheim; and Koreis where Princess Gallitzin, exiled from court, ended her days.
All these properties, adjoining each other, are, in the fine season, the rendezvous of a numerous society eagerly intent on pleasure. Aloupka is the great centre of amusement. Foreigners of distinction who are for the moment at Odessa, are ex officio the guests of Count Voronzof; but many of them have on their return complained of paying somewhat too dearly for the governor-general's hospitality. As the château, notwithstanding its imposing appearance, can contain only a small number of the select, the majority are compelled to find a lodging at the inn of the Two Cypresses near Aloupka, the landlord of which, by way of doing honour to his noble patron, practises unsparing extortion on all who have need of his apartments.
On our way to Ialta, about a dozen versts from Mishkor we visited the country houses best worth seeing, particularly Gaspra, which interested us for Madame de Krudener's sake. Perhaps the reader will not be unwilling to peruse the details I collected respecting the motives that induced that celebrated woman to settle in the peninsula, and which connected her name with that of two other women equally remarkable for their strange fortunes.