The British Consulate being closed in consequence of the absence of the Vice-Consul, M. Zohrab, who was acting as temporary Consul at Bosna Serai, I took up my abode at a khan overlooking the river. The situation was pretty, and the house newly restored; but this did not deprive it of some relics of animal life, which somewhat disturb the equanimity of the new comer, but which he soon learns to regard with indifference. Descending the stairs, and passing through the stable, which is, as is usually the case, immediately beneath the lodging rooms, we must turn sharply to the right; and, after clambering up some rough and broken steps, we arrive at the main street, which runs for about a mile through the centre of the town, varied only by arched gateways placed at intervals along its course. Against the first of these a Turkish sentry indolently leans, if he be not seated on the kerbstone at the corner. Passing through this we come to a second gate, where the peaceful traveller, unconscious of offence, is angrily accosted. The meaning of all this is that he is requested to throw away and stamp upon his cigarette, the old tower on the left being used as a magazine. Round it a weak attempt at a place d'armes is apparent, Omer Pacha having ordered some of the neighbouring houses to be pulled down. Nor was this done before it was necessary, a fire having broken out a short time before in its vicinity. On that occasion the inhabitants destroyed a few houses, and imagined the fire to be extinguished. The wind rose, and it broke out again, taking the direction of the magazine. Upon this, the whole population took to the country, and the prisoners, who were located close by, escaped in the general confusion. Had it not been providentially extinguished, the place of Mostar would have known it no more. The prison is a plain white house, which does not look at all as if it had ever been the sort of place to have long defied the ingenuity of a Jack Sheppard, or even an accomplished London house-breaker of our own day.
The tower to which allusion has been made is built on the eastern side, and immediately above the beautiful bridge which spans the Narenta, and for which Mostar[K] has ever been famous. The Turks attribute its erection to Suleyman the Magnificent, but it was probably built by the Emperor Trajan or Adrian, since the very name of the town would imply the existence of a bridge in very early days. The Turkish inscriptions, which may be traced upon the abutments at the E. end of the bridge, probably refer to some subsequent repairs. At any rate too much reliance must not be placed in them, as the Turks have been frequently convicted of removing Roman inscriptions and substituting Turkish ones in their place. The beauty of the bridge itself is heightened by the glimpse to be obtained of the mosques and minarets of Mostar, washed by the turbid waters of the Narenta, and backed by the rugged hills which hem it in. 'It is of a single arch, 95 ft. 3 in. in span, and when the Narenta is low, about 70 feet from the water, or, to the top of the parapet, 76 feet.'[L]
There is a second tower at the extremity of the bridge on the left bank, which is said to be of more modern construction.
Mostar is not a fortified city, nor is it important in a strategical point of view. The only traces of defensive works which exist are portions of a crenellated wall of insignificant construction. This accounts for the ease with which the Venetians were enabled to take possession of and burn its suburbs by a sudden raid in 1717. 'The town was built,' says Luccari, 'in 1440, by Radigost, Major-Domo of Stefano Cosaccia;' but in asserting this, he overlooks the existence of the Roman road to Trebigné, which is very superior to anything built by either Slaves or Turks, and places its Roman origin beyond a doubt. Some suppose it to be the ancient Sarsenterum. That it was selected by the Turks as the capital of the province immediately after the conquest, and considerably enlarged, appears very probable, and the towers which flank the bridge were probably built at that period or a little earlier, though the eastern one is said to be raised upon a Roman basement.
Continuing our ramble we pass through another gate, and come to an uncomfortable looking hill. We have not to mount far, however, before we approach an archway, with two sentries, rather more alert than the others whom we have seen. Officers are passing backwards and forwards, looking fussy and important, as Turks always do when they get rid of their habitual apathy. In their small waisted coats à la Française, surmounted by the inevitable fez, they present a strange combination of the Eastern and Western soldier.
The house in the interior of the court-yard is the palace, usually occupied by the Mulisarif, but devoted, during his stay in these parts, to Omer Pacha, the Serdar Ekrem and Rumili Valessi, or Governor-General of European Turkey. In the vicinity of the palace may be seen the flagstaffs of the Prussian and Austrian Consulates, while that of Great Britain appears at no great distance, and in the rear of the clock-tower, which distinguishes Mostar from most other Turkish towns. Let us now return to the main street, which continues in unbroken monotony for something less than half a mile. If gifted with sufficient patience to continue our stroll out of the town, we come upon the principal burial-ground. On the E. high hills hem us in, while the tiny stream of the Narenta comes winding from the N.
During my stay at Mostar the town was enlivened by the occurrence of the Emperor Alexander's birthday, or the 'Emperor's day,' as it is called. In celebration of this auspicious event, the Russian Consul kept open house, everyone who could muster decent apparel being admitted. After the ceremony of blessing the Muscovite flag had been performed by the Greek Bishop, a select few sat down to a kind of breakfast, which did credit to the hospitality of his Imperial Majesty's representative. Thither I accompanied Omer Pacha, who was attended by a small suite. This was the only occasion on which I ever observed anything like display in the Turkish General. His gold-embroidered dress resembled that of a Marshal of France; his breast was literally covered with decorations, in the centre of which was the Grand Cross of the Bath, and he carried a magnificently-jewelled sword, the gift of the late Sultan, Abdul Medjid. He did not, however, remain long, and on emerging I could not help contrasting the festivities within with the signs of warlike preparation which jostled one at every turn, the first fruits, in great measure, of Russian imperial policy. Strings of ponies laden with forage, and provisions for the army on the frontier, passed continuously, and the streets presented a more than usually gay and variegated appearance. Omer Pacha was throughout indefatigable. Detachments of irregulars arrived daily, some of which were immediately pushed up to the scene of operations; others were retained at Mostar; but whether they went, or stayed behind, he inspected them alike, and was always received with marked enthusiasm. I must not omit to mention that amongst these reinforcements was a body of 1,000 Christians, who, however, were never sent to the frontier. Fine fellows they were, all armed with rifles of native construction. These arms of precision are mostly made in Bosnia, where there are two or three establishments for that purpose.
Thus the days wore on; and, having provided myself with horses, and such few things as are deemed indispensable for campaigning, I was delighted to receive a message from the Generalissimo, on the night of the 13th, intimating his intention of leaving Mostar at 8 (à la Franca) on the following morning.
But before I enter upon my personal experiences in the camp of the Osmanlis, I would fain give some account of the previous history of this agitated province; passing in brief review those causes which combined to foster a revolutionary spirit in the country, and dwelling more especially on the events of the last four years, during which that spirit has so culminated as to convince even the Porte of the necessity which exists for the immediate employment of coercive measures.