At length, through the obscurity of the night, we saw innumerable lights; and Mustafa told me, with much exultation, that they marked the site of Guzel Issar. These lights were the lamps which the Turks suspend at the top of their mosques during the Ramazàn; and, as this was the last day, which is called with them the feast of the Beyràm, they were more than usually brilliant. We hurried on until we found ourselves on the edge of a sedgy marsh, where we proceeded with great caution upon narrow causeways, made to prevent animals from sinking into the mire. To the right and left of us was a flooded marsh, and in some places the causeway was so much covered that our guide could scarcely find his road. In half an hour we came to the bank of a broad and rapid river, the Meander: and our guide and Mustafa tired their lungs in bawling for the ferryman. At length, a boat, of triangular shape, was hauled across the stream, by means of a rope from bank to bank, upon which traversed a pulley. The barge would hardly contain us and our horses, and the apprehension of danger blinded me to the beauties of the river, so celebrated by poets.
Proceeding again along other causeways similar to those we had passed, we at last reached dry ground. Every thing now marked our approach to a city— gardens, extensive cemeteries, and a wide and beaten road; until at last we entered it, amidst the light of thousands of lamps, which illuminated the coffee-houses, the mosques, and the streets. Our guide conducted us to a miserable room, from whence I hastened to the bath, which, during Ramazàn, and particularly on the last day of it, is open by night as well as by day. This served better than any thing else could have done to refresh me after the fatigues of the journey; and, returning from it to my bed on the floor at the posthouse, I slept as comfortably and profoundly as I had ever done in my life.
I rose early in the morning, wishing to get a sight of whatever antiquities the place might contain, and for this purpose I accosted an apothecary’s boy; whom I saw standing in a small shop just out of the caravansera door, dressed in Frank clothes; considering that he most likely had a Frank master, who would be more or less informed on these points. I was not mistaken, and he immediately sent a man to show me the house of his master. On going up stairs, and telling him in Italian what I wanted, he professed to be able to satisfy my curiosity. He introduced me to his wife, a pretty woman, and made me go through the usual civilities of a spoonful of preserve and coffee. He then took me to an eminence, a little way in the suburbs, where I saw the remains of several buildings. These were the ruins of Magnesia: but I had no time to examine them in detail. The face of the country was extremely beautiful: but the beauties of the Meander and its banks must not be insisted on by one who passed it in a shower of rain in the winter.
On resuming our journey, we again entered among the mountains; and, continuing to ascend, stopped about noon at a hovel by the road-side, where a dirty-looking Greek sold coffee, bread and cheese, and other provisions for the accommodation of travellers. Whilst we were refreshing ourselves, three horsemen, exceedingly well mounted, arrived, and, by their commanding air, showed themselves to be people in authority. Mustafa told me they were officers of Chapan Oglu, carrying treasure from some governor to their master, and made me observe a pair of saddle-bags on a led horse, which he said were full of specie; and indeed, though nothing in bulk, the horse seemed much oppressed with the weight.
For many succeeding hours, the route lay over mountains, and always on the ascent; until at last, from the summit of one that had caused us more fatigue than the rest, the view of the city of Teery broke upon us, situate in a fine plain, but seemingly so immediately under our feet that it was difficult to conjecture how we should descend to it. A winding and zigzag path brought us rapidly down, and we entered the streets, proceeding, as usual, to the posthouse.
Teery struck me as a city with well built houses, and of much neatness. We quitted it early, and proceeded on our way to Baynder, where we slept. Baynder is a place of about the same class as Teery.
In the morning, when the horses were brought to the door, Mustafa objected to them as sorry beasts that would not take us to Smyrna by nightfall, and he insisted, as there was no intermediate stage, that they should be changed. He might have insisted in vain, however, unless backed by some authority; he therefore advised me to go to the governor of the place, where, he said, he would show our order, make known who I was, and see what that would do: we accordingly went. His palace was a large wooden building, painted on the outside, and the room we were ushered into was a long saloon, with sofas on the three sides, rich and handsome. The governor, a fine-looking man, sat in the right-hand corner, and invited me to come and seat myself beside him. He very civilly desired to know who I was, and ordered some refreshment to be set before me, treating me with so much politeness, that, instead of coming to the point about better horses, to which Mustafa urged me by winks and signs, I felt ashamed to trouble him; and, after satisfying his curiosity about Lady Hester, concerning whom he asked many questions, I rose and took my leave, putting Mustafa greatly out of sorts for losing so favourable an occasion of getting what we wanted, and, above all, for increasing the exultation of the postmaster over him.
At last we mounted and rode off. The rain had not ceased from the morning we left Marmora. The road lay for the most part of this day through a level country, and we proceeded slowly and with little prospect of reaching Smyrna by night, when, about three o’clock, as we were passing over a widely extended down, we saw coming towards us a solitary traveller. By his motions it was evident that he wished to avoid us, for he struck out of the road: but Mustafa had marked him for his prey; and, quitting the straight road likewise, he soon came up with the traveller, who proved to be a Christian with a pair of saddle-bags under him, mounted on a young horse. “Dismount, infidel,” were Mustafa’s first words to him; “I must have your horse.” The man remonstrated, saying he was going a long journey; that his horse was his property and would be lost in Smyrna, and alleged several other good reasons for refusing compliance: but Mustafa made no other reply than that he would have the horse, and, raising his whip, used such threatening gestures that the Christian dismounted, and prepared to ungirth the saddle. Whatever I could say to Mustafa of the injustice of what he was doing was in vain; my servant told me that such was the practice of Turkish Tartars, and I desisted. The traveller then named a particular caravansera in Smyrna, where he begged me to see his horse stabled, and mounting the posthorse rode off, somewhat relieved of his sorrow by a small present which I made him, and by my assurances that I would see his beast taken care of.
Mustafa was now contented, and we galloped on more rapidly than ever. Night soon overtook us, and about half an hour after sunset the barking of dogs gave us notice that we were near the suburbs of Smyrna. We reached the city gate, now shut, which was opened for a trifling consideration. We entered on the land side, and, as the Frank quarter is by the quays, we had nearly the whole town to traverse, under a deluge from all the waterspouts, which in Turkish towns are generally made to carry the rain from the roofs of the houses into the middle of the street. I inquired for a Frank inn, where I was accommodated with a very good chamber; and, having consigned the horses to the guide and desired Mustafa to lodge himself where he thought proper, after a good supper, I enjoyed a night’s refreshing sleep, which I had not been able to do since leaving Rhodes.
I may here observe that the country through which I had just passed, though at a season of the year when most naked in appearance, presents richer scenery than I had ever beheld, excepting perhaps in the environs of Brusa. There are magnificent mountains, vast forests, fertile plains, rivers with their banks overhung with myrtle, oleander, and willow, roaring cascades, rivulets—in fine, whatever Nature has to boast of may be seen in the space between Marmora and Smyrna.