Towards noon we arrived at Kertsch; the town can be seen very well from the sea, as it stretches out in a semi-circle on the shore, and rises a little up the hill Mithridates [{321}], which lies behind. Higher up the hill is the museum, in the style of a Grecian temple—circular, and surrounded with columns. The summit of the mountain ends in a fine group of rocks, between which stand some obelisks and monuments, which belong to the old burial-place. The country round is a steppe, covered with artificial earth-mounds, which make the graves of a very remote period. Besides the Mithridates, there is no hill or mountain to be seen.
Kertsch lies partly on the spot where Pantikapäum formerly stood. It is now included in the government of Tauria; it is fortified, has a safe harbour, and rather considerable commerce. The population amounts to 12,000. The town contains many fine houses, which are chiefly of modern date; the streets are broad, and furnished with raised pavements for foot passengers. There is much gaiety in the two squares on Sundays and festivals. A market of every possible thing, but especially provisions, is held there. The extraordinary vulgarity and rudeness of the common people struck me greatly; on all sides I heard only abuse, shouting, and cursing. To my astonishment I saw dromedaries yoked to many loaded carts.
The Mithridates is 500 feet high, and beautiful flights of stone steps and winding paths lead up its sides, forming the only walks of the towns’ people. This hill must formerly have been used by the ancients as a burial-place, for everywhere, if the earth is only scraped away, small narrow sarcophagi, consisting of four stone slabs, are found. The view from the top is extensive, but tame; on three sides a treeless steppe, whose monotony is broken only by innumerable tumuli; and on the fourth side, the sea. The sight of that is everywhere fine, and here the more so, as one sea joins another, namely, the Black Sea and the Sea of Asoph.
There was a tolerable number of ships in the roads, but very far short of four or six hundred, as the statements in the newspapers gave out, and as I had hoped to see.
On my return, I visited the Museum, which consists of a single apartment. It contains a few curiosities from the tumuli, but everything handsome and costly that was found was taken to the Museum at St. Petersburgh. The remains of sculptures, bas-reliefs, sarcophagi, and epitaphs are very much decayed. What remains of the statues indicates a high state of art. The most important thing in the Museum is a sarcophagus of white marble, which, although much dilapidated, is still very beautiful. The exterior is full with fine reliefs, especially on one side, where a figure, in the form of an angel, is represented holding two garlands of fruit together over its head. On the lid of the sarcophagus are two figures in a reclining posture. The heads are wanting; but all the other parts, the bodies, their position, and the draping of the garments, are executed in a masterly manner.
Another sarcophagus of wood, shows great perfection in the carving and turning of the wood.
A collection of earthen jars, water jugs and lamps, called to my mind those in the museum at Naples. The jars, burnt and painted brown, have a form similar to those discovered at Herculaneum and Pompeii. The water jugs are furnished with two ears, and are so pointed at the bottom, that they will not stand unless rested against something. This form of vessel is still used in Persia. Among other glass-ware, there were some flasks which consisted almost entirely of long necks, bracelets, rings and necklaces of gold; some small four-cornered embossed sheets, which were worn either on the head or chest, and some crowns, made of laurel wreaths, were very elegant. There were chains and cauldrons in copper, and ugly grotesque faces and ornaments of various kinds, which were probably fixed on the exterior of the houses. I saw some coins which were remarkably well stamped.
I had now to visit the tumuli. I sought long and in vain for a guide: very few strangers come to this place, and there are consequently no regular guides. At last there was nothing left for me but to apply to the Austrian Vice-consul, Herr Nicolits. This gentleman was not only willing to comply with my wish, but was even so obliging as to accompany me himself.
The tumuli are monuments of an entirely peculiar character; they consist of a passage about sixty feet long, fourteen broad, and twenty-five high, and a very small chamber at the end of the passage. The walls of the passage are sloping, like the roof of a house, and contract so much at the top, that at the utmost one foot is left between. They are built of long and very thick stone slabs, which are placed over each other in such a way that the upper row projects about six or seven inches beyond the under one. Upon the opening at the top are placed massive slabs of stone. Looking down from the entrance, the walls appear as if fluted. The room, which is a lengthened quadrangle, is spanned by a small arched roof, and is built in the same manner as the passage. After the sarcophagus was deposited in the room, the whole monument was covered with earth.
The fine marble sarcophagus which is in the Museum, was taken from a tumulus which was situated near the quarantine house, and is considered to be that of King Bentik.