I cannot record all our excursions to Eleusis, Ægina, and elsewhere, but I will add a few lines describing the general appearance of the people at that time, also written to my mother, as probably they have greatly changed in over thirty years:
“The Peloponnesian shepherds look remarkably picturesque, as they wear large white coats with peaked hoods over their heads. Further north the coats are more often blue—near Athens black and a different shape—near Eleusis the people are Albanians and wear Albanian costumes, which are very bright with many colours. Almost all the natives outside the towns wear costumes which make the villages look like places in plays, and every little inn is a regular picture—but the country is very thinly populated and you go for miles without seeing a soul. It is most beautiful.”
HADJI PETROS
One rather interesting character was the Lord Chamberlain, an old gentleman called Hadji Petros, son of the original brigand who was one of the husbands of Lady Ellenborough, and is the thinly disguised “Hadji Stavros” of About’s novel Le Roi des Montagnes. Hadji Petros was supposed to be quite illiterate, but he could sign his name, as he did so on a case of chocolate which he gave me. Anyway, “by royal permission” he took us over the Palace and down into the kitchens, where he showed us the correct method of making Turkish coffee. His son, we were told, was a very smart young officer who led cotillons at the Athenian balls—two generations from the original brigand.
We left Athens on February 22nd, and were taken by ship from a port near Patras at the end of the Gulf of Corinth to Pyrgos. We went in a Government boat (the Salaminia, I believe), and it was arranged that we should stay with the Demarch (Mayor) and drive thence to see Olympia.
Fortunately for us M. Bakhméteff accompanied us, and the whole thing was very entertaining. The officers on the ship thought it too absurd that we should want to take off even hand luggage for the night, as they said we should find everything we wanted at the Demarch’s. Sure enough we found three elaborate sitting-rooms adorned with photographs and chairs tied up with ribbons, a bedroom with two comfortable beds and plenty of pin-cushions, and a dressing-room provided with tooth-brushes, sponges, and dentifrice water, but as means of washing one small green glass jug and basin between us. However, we managed to borrow two large, red earthenware pans from the kitchen and got on nicely. The Demarch was more than kind and hospitable, but as he knew no language save his native Greek it was lucky that Bakhméteff was there to interpret. We landed too late for Olympia that evening, so we were taken down to a most romantic and desolate spot, where Alpheus runs into the sea in full view of the Acroceraunian mountains where “Arethusa arose from her couch of snows.” In addition to one or two officials we were guarded by a delightful gendarme and were introduced to a bare-legged giant in an oil-skin coat whose duty was to look after the fish in a kind of stew or watercourse running out of a lake. Whether the poachers had been busy lately I know not, but the efforts of the custodian, the gendarme, and the rest of the party to give us a fishing entertainment were singularly abortive. Their object appeared to be to capture a mullet, and at length a dead one was landed by the joint throwing of a small net and poking with Lady Galloway’s parasol. With dauntless courage they returned to the charge, and when another small fish was seen the gendarme drew his sword and vainly tried to stab it. Ultimately the professional fishermen did catch it and gave it to the gendarme, who skipped about with glee. He had seen me put some shells in my pocket, and apparently thought we should like to do the same with the fish, so proceeded to wash it—and naturally let it escape. Next day the Demarch told M. Bakhméteff that he had ordered an open carriage for the ladies (knowing our lunatic tendencies) and that he would take him (Bakhméteff) in a shut one. Bakhméteff came to us in a frantic state of mind and begged our authority to say that English ladies could not possibly go in a carriage alone—so ultimately we three proceeded in the open carriage with our gendarme on the box, and the Demarch followed with his servant. All went well till it began to rain, when our gallant defender jumped off the box and into the shut carriage with the Demarch and the other man. They put up both windows and I believe smoked, only leaving a little breathing-hole in front. Doubtless they enjoyed themselves immensely—so did we.
OLYMPIA—ZANTE
As with other well-known places, I omit all description of Olympia, reached by a road concerning which we decided that it would be a compliment to compare it to a ploughed field. The drive took four hours each way. I dare say there are hotels and chars-à-bancs if not trams now, but I am very glad to recall Olympia, as we saw it in the wilds with ruins of temples and the newly excavated Gymnasium undisturbed by eager tourists. The Museum, containing the beautiful statue of Hermes with the Infant Bacchus, had not long been erected on the lines of a Greek temple. By way of an additional treat our hosts had roasted a lamb whole and brought it into the outer hall of the Museum on a stick regardless of the mess which it made. We made futile efforts to protect the floor with newspapers, but were obliged to eat some of the meat.
From Pyrgos we went to the Island of Zante, where we spent Sunday. I wrote to my mother that it was a most lovely place—and told her:
“We took some luncheon up into an olive grove on the hills and lay on cushions there in the most perfect air and warmth you can imagine, with birds singing and the greenest grass thick with flowers just like the Pre-Raphaelite pictures. A little higher up you could see the sea on both sides. Cephalonia in one distance and the Acroceraunian mountains in the other. This island is, as you know, famous for flowers, and the nosegays the Consul sent us were so enormous that after filling all the vases, etc., we could we had to fill two large foot pans and put them on the balcony.”