The Turk and his lost provinces

by William Eleroy Curtis

A pretty park adjoins the palace grounds in the center of the city, and several of the residence streets are lined with pepper-trees, but there is no other shade in Athens—except the awnings stretched across the sidewalks in the business section to shelter show-windows and politicians who sit at little tables in front of the cafés. The gleam of the white marble is painful to the eyes. The architecture of most of the houses in the new quarter of the town is pure Greek; simple, dignified and stately; a striking contrast to the picturesque squalor and dilapidation of Constantinople and the ornate embellishment of the Italian cities. Some critics complain that the architecture of Athens is monotonous, but it is the monotony of pure and simple taste, and none can deny the beauty of the residences. Most of them are constructed upon modern plans, especially the interiors, to meet the demand for conveniences, and I am sure that the private buildings of Athens to-day are more comfortable and beautiful than in the days of Pericles and Phidias. The mountain Pentelikos can furnish all the marble that is necessary to meet the demands of the builders for twenty-five more centuries.

In the old part of the city the streets are narrow, dirty, and the odors rise to heaven. The modern Greek peasant is not a tidy person, nor is his wife, and the street that passes his dwelling, the house in which he lives and all his surroundings are repulsive to the eye, the nostrils and the sense of propriety.

MODERN ATHENIANS

There are three theaters in Athens, one of them a stately marble building of classic design, at which original plays in Greek are produced to encourage native literary genius. An opera company comes over from Italy for two or three weeks every winter, but otherwise there is very little music in Athens. Nor is there any modern art. The museum is not attractive to ordinary visitors, but it is a fountain of joy and never-ending bliss to archeologists, being filled with broken statuary and pottery, old bronzes and tablets bearing inscriptions that are half-effaced, leaving just enough to excite curiosity and controversy among students.

The classic spirit still prevails in Greece. It even pervades the common council of Athens, or whoever has the duty of naming the streets, for they are nearly all called in honor of the ancient gods, philosophers and poets of the golden age. The Boulevard of the University and the Boulevard of the Academy are the broadest and the finest avenues in the residence portion of the city, while the principal business street is named in honor of Mercury. Other streets are called after Solon, Æsculapius, Hippocrates, Aristotle, Thucydides, Pericles, Sophocles, Menander, Venus, Pan, Hebe, Apollo, Jupiter, Theseus, Philip, Constantine and most of the holy apostles. One of the principal hotels is the Minerva, and it is the fashion to christen shops in honor of the great men of the past. Classic names are also usual in baptizing children. You frequently hear of Hermes, Alcibiades and Homer, and the Athens city directory reads like the muster-roll of the army of Agamemnon, which you will find in the early part of Homer. Achilles, Ajax, Menelaus, Miltiades, Leonidas, Themistocles, and other names equally familiar to students of Greek, are in daily use among the people.

Greece is a true democracy. No other country in Europe, not even Norway, is so subject to the will of the people, and the democratic spirit is often shown in ways that are disagreeable. The feeling of equality is general, and there is an undisguised jealousy against one man rising above another. That is one of the great obstacles to progress—a sort of dead-line which no man can cross without being made the target of every selfish and dissatisfied citizen who construes the superiority of his neighbor as a personal grievance and an offense against the individual and the state. The king is a foreigner. Were he not a foreigner he might not be king. Those who know the Greek character best declare that it would be difficult, if not impossible, for the Greeks to permit one of their own citizens to rule over them. The king is democratic enough to suit their tastes. He mingles freely with the people, and while he maintains beyond criticism the dignity that becomes his position, he is nevertheless simple in his habits, unostentatious in his exercise of power and loves nothing so well as to be considered one of the Greeks. There have been no scandals or intrigues at his court. The scepter has not been wielded to the injury of any one. He treats everybody alike and perhaps goes a little too far that way, because the exercise of more severe discipline might do something to suppress crime. The king’s example is followed by his sons, his ministers and the attachés of the court, and therefore is imitated by the people. The children have inherited the spirit. The common schools of Athens are attended by boys and girls of all grades of society, the children of laborers sitting beside those of the ministers of state, reading from the same books and engaging in the same games.

Travelers in the country sometimes complain that the democratic spirit is offensive; that the “common people” sometimes are too aggressive and independent. I heard an English gentleman relate his experience with the villagers of the interior, which was evidence that they considered themselves quite as good as he, and he declared that such things could never have occurred in England, or in the United States, for that matter. A gentleman who has lived many years in Greece explained that the peasants did not intend to be impertinent, but were simply exercising what they believed to be their privileges, and demonstrating that a practical democracy was in working order. There is no lack of discipline among the servant class, but they assert their rights like the servant-girls of New England.

Athenian society is divided into sets, as it is everywhere; first, the court set, made up of the higher officials, members of the diplomatic corps, officers of the army and navy, rich residents both foreign and native who entertain extensively, and others who are honored with a personal acquaintance with the royal family. This set is more or less exclusive, and includes only a small fraction of those who are entitled to invitations to court functions. The king’s balls and receptions are very much like those at the White House in Washington, and people with shabby clothes and muddy boots are often present, because their political influence, if not their social position entitles them to invitations. There are no orders of nobility in Greece. There is only one order of knighthood—the Order of the Savior, which is conferred by the king for distinguished services of any character. About one-half of the honors go to the army and navy; the next in number are to those who have distinguished themselves in the service of the state, either as executives, legislators or members of the diplomatic corps, and after them come the scientists, who esteem the ribbon very highly. Some of the descendants of the ancient nobility try to retain their titles, but are laughed at. Men whose ancestors played a conspicuous part in patriotic movements are much more admired and envied, but even they have to give way to learning, for scholars stand higher in Greece to-day than any other class of the community, and learning is considered of more value than great riches.

The education of women is gradually reaching a level with that of men. There are still certain social restraints, due to tradition and the influence of the neighboring countries of Europe, and the old-fashioned method of contracting marriages between families still prevails; but, speaking generally, the women of Greece are to-day quite as independent, quite as influential and quite as well educated as any on the continent, south of Sweden, and it is gratifying to know that the queen herself has been one of the most active and influential agents in bringing about the emancipation of her sex.