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[^Frontispiece.
The Sorrows of Epir us
By Rene Puaux
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
» 1
> J >
1 J 1
LONDON: HURST & BLACKETT LTD.
PATERNOSTER HOUSE, E.C, : : 1918
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' .> ' » * ' 5 > : ■>- J "
THE SORROWS OF EPIRUS
THE RETURN OF THE
EPIROTES
Corfu, 1st May, 1913.
YESTERDAY, April 30th, the last
of the Epirotes left Corfu for their
coast villages, from which they were driven
during the Albanian " fury " last
November.
Ten thousand of them had then flocked
to this blissful island, whose roses and
orange trees make it an earthly paradise
at this season of the year. The cir-
cumstances of the Epirote exodus had
been utterly deplorable. The Turks and
Albanians had burnt their homes over
their heads, and it was only the devotion
of their Greek brethren of Corfu, and,
indeed, of all Greece, which saved them
t i t
The Sorrows of Epirus
from utter despair. The municipality,
the central Government and private in-
dividuals had alike come to their assis-
tance. A subsistence allowance of fifty
centimes a day was made to them, and
they lived as best they could.
Then came the capture of Yanina,
followed by that of Argyrocastro and
Delvino. From that moment a great
hope raised their sunken spirits. Greece
was born again.
Under the aegis of the blue and white
flag they were enabled to return to their
villages, Parga, Senitza, Nivitza. (There
are about twenty-five of them scattered
along the coast opposite Corfu, and all
had been abandoned by the Epirote
peasants owing to the Albanian menace.)
The victory of the Crown Prince gave
them back their homes, once and for
all, they thought, delivered from the
terrors of the past.
I watched the last of these exiles coming
on shore at Santi Quaranta. The little
6
The Return of the Epirotes
port, which usually sleeps soundly enough
in the damp heat at the foot of its olive-
crowned hills, presented a scene of the
greatest animation. Donkeys and mules
in hundreds wound up the white road to
Delvino and Argyrocastro with loads of
food for the troops and the civil popula-
tion. Houses, disembowelled by the bom-
bardment, were now being stuffed with
sacks of wheat, and the walls of the
ancient Byzantine city of Onchesmos
swarmed with workmen and porters.
This world had for the time being shaken
off its habitual torpor. It really seemed
that a great vision, the Hellenic vision,
possessed them. The long nightmare was
over. The Epirotes were about to realize
the dream of generations, union with
Greece, their fatherland by history and
sympathy.
They could not bring themselves to
believe that they would be joined to an
artificial Albania, alien to them in tongue,
civilization and religion. All these people,
7
The Sorrows of Epirus
from Cape St. Vasilio to Cape St. Joannis,
were Greeks, and every man to whom
I spoke, related to Greek families in
Corfu, Patras and Athens, refused to have
any doubts as to the decision of Europe.
They returned to Epirus confident of
the triumph of a cause for which they
had endured so much.
8
HELLENIC NATIONAL SENTIMENT
IN EPIRUS
I
Corfu, 2nd May.
F the real meaning of the question of
Epirus is to be grasped, a pre-
Hminary axiom must be accepted : it is
not the Greek Government which wants
to annex Epirus, but the Epirotes them-
selves who claim reunion with Greece.
The opponents of this reunion, in their
academic desire to draw a satisfactory-
map of Albania, never seem to have
given a single thought to this side of the
question, which is none the less a vital
one. Some have seen in the Greek Empire
a danger for Italian naval power. They
have suggested that, by extending that
Empire to the north of Corfu, it would
enable Greece to transform the Corfu
9
The Sorrows of Epirus
Channel into a closed sound in which the
Russian, French and English fleets could
shelter in case of an international conflict
and threaten Italy in the Adriatic.
This is to forget that the Adriatic
only begins at the Straits of Otranto,
and that the coast of Epirus, whether in
Greek or Albanian hands, is only about
two kilometres distant from the northern
end of Corfu, so that a few mines could
make it an impregnable lair for the
fleets whose highly problematical schemes
Rome appears to dread so much. Be-
sides, so long as Greece remained friendly
to the Entente she could place so many
excellent harbours in the Ionian Islands
at the disposal of the Allied fleets that
it is really rather absurd to see opposition
based on such slight grounds.
The other opponents of the reunion of
Epirus with Greece — and these, too, are
to be found in Italy — seem to have
retained, of the treaty of 1897 which
settled the boundaries of the Austrian
10
Hellenic National Sentiment in Epirus
and Italian zones of influence in Albania
and Epirus, only the hopes of an eventual
conquest of the whole eastern shore of
the Adriatic. By thus refusing to
recognize existing facts and persisting
in the creation of an artificial kingdom
of Albania, whose endless unrest would
furnish the excuse for future intervention
and possible annexation, they show that
the Marquis di San Giuliano's imperialism
has still some fervent devotees.
If Epirus were a res nullius, sl piece of
territory without a national soul which
any conqueror could automatically make
his own, the Italian policy might be
regarded as not incomprehensible. But
the truth is quite otherwise. The districts
of Epirus which Rome wishes to see
drawn into the future Albania are the
hotbed of uncompromising Hellenism.
" They are more Greek than Greece her-
self," one of the most eminent professors
of Athens University once said to me,
and it is certainly the fact that the attach-
II
The Sorrows of Epirus
ment of the Epirotes to the national
cause has been displayed in the most
striking fashion for years.
There are in Epirus six great centres
of Hellenism : Yanina, Zagoria, Argy-
rocastro, Metzovo, Khimara and Koritza.
From each of these centres have gone
forth men whose first thought, when once
they had made their fortune in a foreign
land, has been to contribute towards the
realization of the national dream, the
union of Epirus with Greece.
M. Arsakis, the founder of the great
girls' college at Athens, which has two
thousand pupils and is the only centre
of feminine education in the East, comes
from Chotachova, a village near Argy-
rocastro. M. Zapas, another founder of
schools and the Athens picture-gallery,
is a native of Lambovo, likewise near
Argyrocastro. M. Zographo, yet another
founder of schools, hails from Kestorati,
near Tepeleni.
MM. Averov and Stournaras, the
12
Hellenic National Sentiment in Epirus
first a Greek benefactor of universal
repute, the second the founder of the
Athens polytechnic school, are both
natives of Metzovo. MM. Zozimas,
Kaplani and Tositza hail from Yanina,
M. Banca from Koritza. There are hun-
dreds of other less notable Epirotes
who have bequeathed by will to the
Greek Government sums, the total
amounting to a considerable figure, for
the advancement of the sacred cause.
The reunion of Epirus with Greece is
the single thought. Deposited with the
Athens banks are funds the interest of
which has been accumulating for years
by virtue of a testamentary disposition
which is always the same : '' This money,
in case of a war of independence, is to be
used for the liberation of Epirus."
What proofs of the necessity of an
Epiro-Albanian bloc can avail against
such overwhelming manifestations of
uncompromising national feeling? Is it
suggested that because Ali Pasha exter-
13
The Sorrows of Epirus
minated a large number of orthodox
families, he destroyed the idea ? There
are Mussulman families of these districts
to-day with a living Christian grandmother.
The villages still have their Greek names,
such as Progonatis and Oxatis, which
recall the heroes and exploits of the past.
At Argyrocastro there are girls of Mussul-
man families who go to Greek schools
and Mussulman Albanians who, moved
by an all-powerijul atavism, make the
sign of the cross when they pass a Greek
church.
The past and the present are here united
in support of a cause which has sound
history and practical politics behind it.
14
CORFU
Corfu, May Srd.
npHE midday swelter. An English
-■- cruiser, the Media, was sleeping
at anchor in the harbour. Two little
Greek steamers, which had come that
morning from Patras, were busy coaling.
The quays, with no more shade than a
few thin shrubs could give them, were
deserted. In the town green blinds were
drawn over the white and yellow fa9ades,
and ragamuffins, naked as the sun, snoozed
in shady alleys. The Maltese cabbies,
leaving their skinny little nags under
the plane trees of the Citadel, were play-
ing cards in one of the cafes next to three
Turkish officer prisoners, who silently
sipped their Turkish coffee like so many
15
The Sorrows of Epirus
pensioners whose drinks are their sole daily
distraction.
At first sight, Corfu is no more pic-
turesque than any other of these Medi-
terranean towns where the sun at midday
is so overpowering that the far niente
is imperative. Tall houses in the Nea-
politan style, narrow arcaded streets
stacked with fruit stalls (the smell of the
fruit somewhat spoilt by the stench of
a stream hard by !), shops for cheap
cigarettes and picture postcards, barbers,
popular confectioners haunted by millions
of flies — these and the dust which buries
men and things alike and turns every bit
of green to grey, are the replica of our
own Provence in summer.
Enchantment begins as soon as you
leave the town behind you. You enter
a land of huge copses of wild roses invading
the roads — marvels of colour and scent —
orange trees a blaze of blossom, irises,
broom, clematis peering out through the
high grass and among tall olive trees,
i6
Corfu
gnarled, knotted and hollow. Then, as
soon as you get to the top of one of the
hills near by, you realize the striking
charms of this Queen of the Ionian
Islands, you see why d'Annunzio came
here to write '' Fire," the Empress
Elizabeth to seek elusive oblivion, and
King George of Greece to find a haven
where he was no longer preoccupied with
the burden of power. Corfu is one great
garden, and, to my mind, Ceylon is its
only rival. The little villages, clinging
to the slopes of the mountains, are
enveloped in a green mantle, that wonder-
ful mantle which sweeps to the sea and
conceals the outline of the golden sands.
The olive trees form a sparkling vault
over the winding pink roads, and as far
as the eye can reach stretches a great
expanse of green capped by the dark
cones of the Mediterranean cypresses.
King George knew the spirit of Corfu,
and was careful to avoid violating it in
his villa, " My Rest," which he be-
17 2
The Sorrows of Epirus
queathed to his son, Andrew. The
German Emperor, who succeeded to the
Achilleion by purchase from the Empress
EHzabeth, was not so squeamish.
If the site is good, overlooking as it
does the whole Corfu Channel, the style
of this imperial residence does not reflect
much credit on the Neapolitan architect
who built it. It is not difficult to under-
stand why the German attendant forbids
the carrying of cameras. No doubt he
is afraid that photographs might be taken,
which might lead to an entrenchment
on his monopoly of picture postcards.
Above his lodge door hangs a board with
specimens, and the legend : Ansichts
Karten hier zu haben. Admittance
formerly cost only one drachma (franc),
but to-day the figure 2 in ink replaces
the original printed figure on the entrance
ticket. I am reluctant to think this is
due to a smart idea of William II. What
is undoubtedly a personal touch of him
is the enormous bronze statue of Achilles,
i8
Corfu
in the Munich style, at the end of the
terrace. In the Empress EHzabeth's time
the '' Wounded Achilles," in white marble,
now relegated to the middle of a too
small grove, was there. The perspective
of the terrace is now ruined by this
colossal statue, which from the waist
upwards rises above the trees and seems
to call for a searchlight inside the helmet,
like Bartholdi's " Liberty." By way of
contrast, a charming statuette, with the
words (in English) '' A Coming Sailor "
on the pedestal, had been taken down
and put away in a cellar. It showed a
small boy in a fisherman's cap, seated
in the bows of a boat.
A certain mystery surrounds this de-
cision. It is said that the figure resembled
the ill-fated Archduke Rudolph, and that
Elizabeth loved the little statue because
it reminded her of the childhood, so rich
in promise, of the son of which the tragedy
of Meyerling robbed her. Did William II.
dislike these memories ? Probably he did,
19 2*
The Sorrows of Epirus
for the pedestal stands lonely to-day, as
does that of Heinrieh Heine.
Taken as a whole, the Achilleion, with
its garden overloaded with statues of
very varying merit and its horrible in-
terior decoration, is not up to its repu-
tation. The Kaiser has spent a million
francs on it, but it did not cost the
Austrian Empress more than a quarter
of that sum. It has been all wasted, if
beauty is to be taken as the test of success.
Nature is so lavish that the faults of
the Achilleion are soon forgotten, and
when, at the soothing hour of twilight,
one looks from Pontikonissi across to the
Island of Ulysses, from which Boecklin
is said to have taken his " Toteninsel "
(though it was from a photograph, as he
never visited Corfu), but which more
suggests the ideal refuge of tranquil joys,
one experiences an involuntary clutching
of the heart. Before this serene and
unruffled beauty the gravity of the
present political crisis vanishes. The
20
Corfu
nuns of the Convent of Saint Theodora,
in their endeavour to shut out the world
from their lovely monastic garden, kept
closed the door in their wall on which
Napoleon's Piedmontese soldiery in 1810
scribbled sketches of fashionable ladies
with sweeping plumes, and inscribed one
of them Nominata la Bella Amora, adding
a few rude remarks. In the same way it
is impossible to have more than a chance
ear here for the lugubrious rumours which
come from the West and the Adriatic.
The coast of Epirus hard by is forgotten
in the sweet solitude of this enormous
and superb garden, a jewel set in the
blue waters of the Ionian Sea.
Yet, in the end, the sense of reality
resumed its sway. Here in the ancient
Venetian fortress there were 2,500 Turkish
prisoners, rolling cigarettes, fishing or
dreaming of the Bosphorus, in the shade
of the fig trees which sweep from the
hills to the sea, and here again a heart-
rending vision was an unhappy refugee
21
The Sorrows of Epirus
from Epirus who had lost her wits,
having seen her son murdered by
Albanians before her eyes. In her soli-
tude, she seemed to have recovered her
balance a little, for the Corfiotes had
received her as a poor sister in mourning.
Then terror seized her soul again, and it
was necessary for policemen to tie her
arms and remove her forcibly. She
passed before me thus. Her staring eyes
seemed to be seeing the horrible drama
again, and uttering low moans like a
stricken animal, she crouched to the earth
and offered resistance as if she expected
momentarily a similar fate.
It was then that all the tales I had
heard of sorrow-laden Epirus came back
to my mind, and a flood of pity filled
my heart.
Night had now fallen. The chimes
from a neighbouring church tower had
just announced eleven o'clock. In the
22
Corfu
St. George Square the restaurant keepers
were taking in the chairs. From a distant
piano came the strains of the duet from
Tosca, Corfu, island of delight, settled
herself for sleep, while across there, on
the far side of the channel, the peasants
of Nivitza, Lukovo and Pikerni were
encamped, trembling and apprehensive,
in the ruins of their dwellings which the
Albanians had burnt.
23
SANTI QUARANTA
Santi Quaranta, May Mh,
nr^HE Zatuna, which can do her seven
^ knots, took two hours and a
quarter to go from Corfu to Santi Quaranta,
which I visited a week ago. The harbour
showed the same scene of animation as
before : the convoys of mules and muscu-
lar little Epirus horses were climbing the
hill laden with packages and sacks destined
for the interior. Santi Quaranta is really
the principal port, in a sense the only
port — for the more southern roadstead
of Preveza does not admit large vessels
— of all southern Epirus, with its impor-
tant centres, such as Argyrocastro, Delvina
and even Yanina.
In one month the Customs at Santi
Quaranta did business to the tune of
24
Santi Quaranta
70,000 francs, and this did not include
all the supplies of the Greek army.
Abdul Hamid was himself the owner
of this port and the neighbouring dis-
tricts. The Greeks— only Greeks inhabited
Santi Quaranta, to the exclusion of all
Mussulmans, with the exception of a
few Treasury officials — were the Sultan's
tenants. The Young Turk Revolution
turned Santi Quaranta into State property.
The revenues no longer went to the
Sovereign's private purse, but the Greek
inhabitants continued to pay their rents
to the Ottoman Government. When war
broke out the Greeks landed a few troops
— about a thousand — here, to support their
operations against Yanina, but this effort
was insufficient. The Turkish forces,
swollen by Albanian contingents, com-
pelled them to re-embark, and it was only
on March 3rd, 1913, at the moment when
the main Greek army entered Yanina, that
a short bombardment put to flight the
last Turkish troops.
25
The Sorrows of Epirus
On the previous night the heavens had
joined hands with the Greeks. There
were at Santi Quaranta, near the old
Byzantine walls, a store of 8,000 cans of
petrol. The commander of the Turkish
detachment had just given orders to load
them all up on mules. " They will be
useful," he said, " for setting fire to the
Christian villages up country." A storm
burst. The depot was struck by light-
ning and an enormous fire caused, which
was easily visible from Corfu.
I was told this story in the old town hall
as I was taking coffee with the Command-
ant. When I came out to look for the
horses which were to take me up country
I found a surprise in store for me. The
entire population of Santi Quaranta was
massed before the house, on which the
Greek flag floated. They had learned of
the presence of a Frenchman, and as all
the French are Philhellenes, a mighty
shout arose : " Zito Hellas ! Zito Gallia !
Zito Enosis ! " (" Long live Greece !
26
Santi Quaranta
Long live France ! Long live the
Union ! ")
When I realized that I and no other was
the subject of this demonstration I admit
I was somewhat taken aback. I could
only bow, being quite at a loss to know
what to reply to these good people, who
considered me, it appeared, a kind of
omnipotent being, who was going to
testify before Europe to their Greek
patriotism and whose testimony would
be enough to assure the realization of
their dream of the reunion of Epirus with
the Greek mother-country. I experienced
a feeling of poignant sorrow at my in-
ability to confirm the good news and my
enforced silence.
-/
NIVITZA
T THOUGHT that Santi Quaranta would
^ be my first and last experience of
popularity, but as a matter of fact it
was nothing to my reception at Nivitza,
which will always be one of those memories
which neither advancing age nor the
vicissitudes of life can efface. We had
been riding for three hours over green
meadows clad in a beautiful spring mantle,
for those who cruise along this coast of
Epirus, with its steep, barren hills falling
to the sea, do not suspect that behind this
barrier lie glorious hidden valleys, which
Turko-Albanian tyranny and barbarism
have alone prevented from becoming a
cultivated paradise. My small horse had
nearly thrown me head-first into the bed
of a stream with steep banks, but I was
28
Nivitza
in high good humour and at peace with
the world.
We had just struggled painfully by
problematical goat-tracks up the sides of
a high hill whence the serried rows of
houses in the large village of Nivitza could
be seen in the distance, when, in the middle
of a small olive wood, two hundred metres
from the first houses, an unwonted sight
made me draw rein, A deputation from
the inhabitants was there, and in the
middle of a group of twenty little girls,
armed with immense bouquets of wild
flowers, were three small boys, brandish-
ing two Greek flags and a French one.
I dismounted, while an old man, with
long white whiskers, came forward. In
his hand, which trembled visibly, he held
a piece of paper on which his speech was
written, a moving speech, which treated
of France, protectress of the weak and
defender of the Right, and proclaimed that
the unhappy inhabitants of Nivitza would
rather die than not be Greek. The orator
29
The Sorrows of Epirus
ended with a threefold cheer for Greece,
France, and the union of Epirus with the
mother-country.
Everyone joined in, and hats flew gaily
into the air, while the girls made a circle
round me. They offered me their bou-
quets with such an effect of spontaneity
that I wanted to take them all. Some
of them were very large, made in the form
of a cross — the Christian cross. Others
were quite small, and for all ornament
had a rose tied by a brown thread to a
bunch of piganos — an exquisitely scented
grass. The little girls kissed my hand
and pressed it against their foreheads
while giving me their flowers. These were
so numerous that I was able to decorate
the pommel of my saddle, my horse's mane,
my hat and my pockets, and it was thus
literally laden with flowers that I entered
Nivitza. A procession had been formed,
single file in view of the narrowness of the
street, and the Greek and French flags led
the way. Then the two bells of the church
30
Nivitza
began to ring. From their doorsteps the
women welcomed me with the orthodox
greeting, " Christ is risen." As we entered
the village a little urchin came up to me
and emptied full-blown roses into a red
and black handkerchief, while the bells
pealed with all their might.
Then I realized the horror of the situa-
tion. The village of Nivitza, which once
counted 160 houses, was no more than a
heap of ruins. On the evening of the
previous 13th December the Albanians
had set fire to most of the houses, which
their occupants had hastily deserted at
their approach. Five helpless old women
and two men remained behind to be
burned to death. One of the children
who stayed behind with them was mur-
dered in the very room in which I am
writing.
Everything was looted or destroyed,
while the inhabitants, crossing the moun-
tains, reached the coast, where Greek
ships were waiting for them. For three
31
The Sorrows of Epirus
months they sfayed at Corfu, in the care
of the Government, and when the country
was cleared of Turks, after the capture
of Yanina, home-sickness overwhelmed
them, and they returned to find only
ruins. Roofs were laid over such walls as
were still standing, and they took up their
abode in hopes of a better future, that
future being union with Greece. Here
they were, treating me as its herald and
harbinger !
This day, according to the Greek
calendar, was the Sunday of St. Thomas,
the Apostle who would not believe without
seeing. I have seen and I believe that it
is impossible to refuse final emancipation
to a people whom centuries of evil
tyranny have not succeeded in robbing
of their hope. I put the flowers given me
by the maidens of Nivitza in the recess
for the holy ikons in my bedroom.
Looking at them while I wrote on my bag
by the light of an evil lamp, their frank
children's smile obsessed my mind. This
32
Nivitza
new generation, on whom the mantle
of sorrow has not yet fallen, must be spared
a renewal of the ancient torture. This
depended on the action of six diplomatists
seated round a table in London.
Nivitza, May 5th.
Coming out of my room this morning
(the insects left by the Albanians had in
no wise spared me), I found the modest
porch decorated with flowers and hung
with Greek and French flags. The in-
habitants were waiting for me and I was
conducted on a tour of the ruins, a lament-
able sight which is full of poignant memo-
ries for these poor villagers. " It was just
here I found my mother's body," said one,
showing me a heap of grey ashes amidst
a litter of blackened stuffs. " Here's
where my uncle was killed," said another,
indicating a shrub before the porch which
the fire had destroyed. They all wanted
to show me their ruined houses, as if a
S3 3
The Sorrows of Epirus
French visitor were the emanation of
some divine justice which could restore all
they had lost. I had to abbreviate my
visit, for I had to see other villages which,
so I was assured, had suffered the same
fate. A last farewell and the party was
off for St. Basil, on the slopes of the
hills where the ferns flourish in the shade
of the olive trees. All this country casts
the spell of the most soothing of the
beatitudes. But it is none the less a land
of terror and mourning.
34
ST. BASIL
WE dropped into the shadow of a
valley, in the midst of whose
grassy carpet slept a village hidden away
like a medieval monastery. Here again
we had the ceremony of the Greek and
French flags, and the inhabitants with
their hands full of flowers. Whilst some
worthy was reading me a little speech of
welcome I looked at my national emblem :
it was the same I had seen at Nivitza.
These poor folk had only one, which they
had made as best they could and were now
handing on from village to village. As
soon as I left one place a lad ran with all
his might by short cuts to carry our
colours to those who were waiting for us
further on. It was otherwise with the
Greek flags, for each village had two or
35 3*
The Sorrows of Epirus
three. There was no necessity to impro-
vise these at the last moment. They
were to be found, even in the days of
Turkish rule, at the bottom of some
drawer. I was the first Frenchman, and
even the first Westerner, who had ever
been seen in these mountain villages, and
yet everyone knew the name of France,
to which all beneficent and liberal virtues
were credited.
St. Basil had been wrecked like
Nivitza. In the church, to which I was
taken, the Albanians had slashed out the
eyes of all the ikons with their knives,
smashed the crude crucifix of painted wood,
and stolen the few modest pieces of plate.
I made the round of the ruins, and while
the old women wept, the children offered
me bouquets of wild flowers. Even quite
tiny babies in their mothers' arms clasped
pieces of fern in their fascinating little
hands. There was such an atmosphere
of spontaneous giving among them— a
kind of fetichism of hope triumphant—
36
St. Basil
and I read such grief in the eyes of the
girls whom I left without accepting their
flowers that I dismounted and received
the whole lot in the basket of my two arms.
Poor folk ! The " elder " who delivered
the speech when I entered the village had
declared : " We have lost everything,
but once we have the Greek flag we shall
begin to live."
37
LUKOVO
NOW we return to the sea. Even
from a distance Lukovo stands
on a promontory in a position not less fine
than that of Sorrento. All the villagers
had come out to line the route, and there
was even a police force, consisting of a
sergeant and two Greek soldiers, to control
operations. The village teacher delivered
a speech. His voice quivered with legiti-
mate emotion, for he had only escaped
death by a miracle. His companion, the
priest, whom the Albanians had com-
pelled to serve — like himself^as guide,
was killed, and it was by great good for-
tune that he slipped away into the woods.
They showed me the adjacent graves of
the priest and the vicar of Argyrocastro.
They are by the roadside, and crosses
38
Lukovo
made of wild flowers, the only legacy of
Nature to the disinherited, mark the spot
where the victims of Albanian fanaticism
gave up their lives.
Lukovo, like Nivitza, St. Basil and
Hondetzovo, whose burnt-out houses I
have seen through my glasses, offered a
spectacle of utter ruin, and while I pressed
in my arms the bouquets of orange-
blossom, asphodel and roses, I had to
listen to further stories of atrocities.
39
PIKERNI
nr^HE mountain road from Lukovo to
^ Pikerni was impracticable at this
time, and so we had to descend by an
Alpine track to the shore, which we fol-
lowed as far as the fishermen's huts. The
French visitor had been expected above,
and this move upset plans. However,
our standard-bearers, who had come with
us from Lukovo, did a little desperate
signalling, and lo and behold! from the
mountain a procession began to descend
with more flags and flowers, while all the
church bells pealed in chorus. The sound
came clear to us through the limpid air
of a sunny May day. It was something
between the carillon of Easter Day and
the warning note of the tocsin, a blend
40
Pikerni
of piety and apprehension. The leaders
of the cortege came up, and while a local
worthy led off with the ^'Zito-GalHa," the
inhabitants of Pikerni swarmed down the
hillside like ants in the grass. " We have
nothing left now, but we will die rather
than not be Greek," the worthy said, with
fire in his voice, and while a man waved a
great cross of flowers the rapidly expanding
crowd broke out with cheers for Greece
and '' Union." But it was getting late,
and it was time to embark if we were to
reach Khimara before nightfall. There
was a lively dispute as to who were to
h^ve the honour of carrying the French
guest on their shoulders to the boat,
which was dancing on the waves. As we
pushed off all those present sang the
Greek national anthem with bared heads.
While the children, still bearing the Greek
and French flags, ran as far as the rocks
of the promontory we were to pass and
the men on the shore shouted " Zito
Gallia I " two hundred metres above, the
41
The Sorrows of Epirus
women of Pikerni, massed on the headland
in dark groups which were distinguish-
able without glasses, watched the Zatuna
disappear. The bells sounded ever fainter
as evening fell.
4«
A CENTRE OF HELLENISM:
KHIMARA
Khimara, May Sth,
A T Khimara the atmosphere of plead-
-^~^ ing apprehension which had im-
pressed me so profoundly in the other
villages was conspicuous by its absence.
The Khimariotes have never suffered from
the Turco-Albanian yoke because they
have always treated it lightly. For cen-
turies they have formed a State within a
State. They formed an autonomous
Greek colony to which the Turkish
Government had to dip its flag, and if the
district of Khimara, with its seven villages,
Khimara, Kiparo, Vuno, Drymades,
Palassa, Pilori and Kuvesi, and its popu-
lation of 20,000 souls, paid a tribute of
16,000 francs a year to the Sublime Porte,
43
The Sorrows of Epirus
the latter accepted it gratefully if only
because it knew perfectly well that if it
asked for more it would get nothing at
all. For three reasons the Khimariotes,
de facto Greeks for many a year already,
had no anxiety for the future. If Euro-
pean diplomacy proposed to incorporate
them with the kingdom of Essad Pasha,
Ismail Kemal or any other fancy Albanian
potentate, they would merely maintain
their long - established independence.
Where the Turkish Empire had failed to
get its decrees enforced it was extremely
unlikely that the King of Scutari would
succeed.
This is no place to relate the history of
Khimara since the fifteenth century, when
the Khimariotes formed a corjps d* elite ^
with a blue and white standard, the Greek
colours, in the forces of George Castriotis
in his struggle with the Sultans.
Khimara was then twice its present
size. Ali Pasha, by his policy of exter-
mination and intimidation, succeeded in
44
A Centre of Hellenism : Khimara
converting a number of villages on the
far side of the mountains to Islam, though
the district formed a separate Greek
episcopate until 1833. Even now the
warlike reputation of the Khimariotes
(their fame as shots is as great as that
of the Swiss) has preserved for them the
privilege of bearing arms, freedom from
direct taxation, tobacco and customs
duties.
They govern themselves on the primitive
system of demogeronties (the People's
Senate), the eight village " Elders "
administering justice and regulating the
affairs of the commune. The affairs of
the district are dealt with in a joint
session of the demogeronties at the village
of Khimara. This patriarchal machinery
is quite sufficient to ensure stability and
keep order.
Latterly the Turkish Government,
which had never had even a representative
in the district, had considered it appro-
priate to send someone, and there appeared
45
The Sorrows of Epirus
a Kaimakam, a hoja, a judge, a procurateur,
two secretaries, a few policemen and two
telegraphists. These officials, lodged in
two buildings specially erected for them
at the end of the village, made themselves
at home among the inhabitants, who had
little difficulty in accommodating them-
selves to their presence since it was not
irksome. Kept in check by the obviously
uncompromising attitude of the Khima-
riotes, these Turkish representatives kept
within doors and contented themselves
with scratching busily on paper and
denouncing to Constantinople the Phil-
hellene sentiments of their charges. From
time to time an order would come to
imprison someone, but in view of the
impossibility of carrying it out, the
unhappy Kaimakam referred the matter
to Yanina, and it usually rested there.
The Khimariotes exhibited complete
indifference towards Turkish authority.
Abroad they enrolled themselves at the
Greek consulates. Some of them were
46
A Centre of Hellenism : Khimara
Greek officers, and, none the less, returned
to Khimara to visit their homes. Their
situation was obviously difficult, for a
state of continuous insubordination has
its dangers. Thus, when it was decided
to call up Christians in the Turkish Army,
seven hundred young Khimariotes pre-
ferred exile (many of them came to France,
notably to our metallurgical works at
St. Etienne) to playing hide and seek
with the Turkish authorities. All of them
returned at once to join the Greek army
when war was declared.
When the Young Turk regime followed,
there was a change in tactics, but the
situation remained the same. The new
Kdimakam tried to divorce the Khima-
riotes from their Philhellenism by dangling
before their eyes the advantages of a
union with Ismail Kemal and the Al-
banians against the Sublime Porte. This
manoeuvre was unsuccessful. The Khim-
ariotes lent a ready ear to the words of
one of their countrymen, a retired Greek
47
The Sorrows of Epirus
officer named Spiro Spiromilio, the Veni-
zelos of these Cretans of Epirus. There
could be only one poUtical faith for
Khimara : union with Greece. Any
other combination was impossible. Was
it to further the interested intrigues of
the Albano-Turkish Kaimakam that so
many Khimariotes went to make their
fortunes in Russia or Egypt and left
hundreds of thousands of francs to the
Greek Church and schools of Khimara ?
Early in October, 1912, the Kaimakam
announced through the medium of M.
Andreas Dimas, who acted as inter-
mediary between the people and the
Turkish authorities, that the Government
was calling all the subjects of the Ottoman
Empire to the colours. This communica-
tion, the only reply to which was universal
indifference, confirmed the Khimariotes
in their belief that war was near, for on
this side of Epirus news is rare and hard
to come by, and, further, the Turkish
48
A Centre of Hellenism : Khimara
telegraphist issued none of the information
he received from Yanina. Khimara was
in a state of high excitement. Bandoliers
were rubbed up, and everyone waited.
At six o'clock on the evening of the 18th,
the telegraph clerk issued the announce-
ment of the declaration of war which had
just come to hand. On the 19th the
news was official. Then from the moun-
tains there descended the few scattered
Turkish policemen and officials to fore-
gather in what the Khimara Greeks called
the Casiello, to wit the two buildings at
the end of the village. The whole
assembly mustered some forty persons.
For a whole month Khimara waited
expectant while the war raged in Thrace,
Macedonia, Southern Epirus. Every day
three Turks came to buy vegetables in
the market, and then returned to the
CastellOy where the rest of the party lived
like hermits.
All this time the Khimariotes kept
their eyes fixed on Corfu across the water,
49 4
The Sorrows of Epirus
for when John Spiromiho returned to
Khimara on November 6th he had an-
nounced that his brother was engaged on
a project, though he himself knew neither
the significance nor the date thereof.
At eight o'clock in the morning of
November 18 th, John Spiromilio, still
asleep (in the same room in which I
made these notes), was awakened by
shouting. His wife jumped from bed,
and, throwing up the window, learned
from a neighbour that boats had appeared,
and a gun had been fired. John Spiro-
milio rushed to the balcony of his room,
from which a magnificent view of the
whole roadstead could be obtained, and
saw three gunboats — what the Greeks call
Potamos — in the southern channel. The
whole village was astir, and people were
cheering uproariously as they made in
droves for the beach. Meanwhile, there
was consternation in the Turkish camp
M. Andreas Dimas had presented himself,
with two old men. One of the Turks
50
A Centre of Hellenism : Khimara
who happened to be on the neighbouring
St. Theodore hill, had come to give the
alarm. The Sultan's forty servants then
issued from the Castello and debated as
to the most convenient direction for
flight. M. Dimas reassured them, es-
pecially the magistrate's secretary, who
was in tears. " The Greeks won't hurt
you," he said. After half an hour, a
smart fusillade was heard. In accordance
with the custom of this country, public
rejoicing was being celebrated by salvos.
(I had had personal experience of this
practice the day before. While I was
attempting an afternoon nap, some twenty
patriots, who, on hearing of my arrival,
had come down from their mountains,
whither they had fled at the news of an
Albanian attack, assembled under my
window and let off their rifles.) The
cause of the enthusiasm was the arrival
of two hundred Cretan and Epirote
volunteers under M. Spiromilio.
The Turks hastily retired to one of
51 4*
The Sorrows of Epirus
the buildings of the Castello (which was
being used as a Greek barracks when I
wrote). The two telegraph clerks alone
offered any resistance and fired on the
new-comers. The Turkish gendarmes and
officials only surrendered to a detachment
of Greek regulars represented by a naval
officer and a few sailors who were hastily
summoned from the beach for this express
purpose. The Sultan's phantom au-
thority, after several years of fruitless
struggle, had ceased to exist at Khimara.
The gendarmes, the three judges, the
magistrate, the ecclesiastic and his secre-
tary, the treasurer and his secretary, one
of the telegraphists (the other had been
killed), the customs official (?) and the
doctor were duly shipped for Corfu. As
for the Ka'imakam, he had vanished a
fortnight before.
The task was not yet concluded. The
Albanian villages, seeing the failure of
the first Greek attacks on Yanina, took
53
A Centre of Hellenism : Khimara
heart. They felt pretty sure they would
never be reached. On December 1st
there was fighting at Pyliori, on the 3rd,
at Logara, on February 9th, at Pyliori
again. In the first engagement the
Greeks had 7 killed and 5 wounded, in
the second, 5 killed and 2 wounded, in
the third, 2 killed and 12 wounded. The
Turkish losses were not known. The
accounts of battles, especially on the
shores of the Mediterranean, are con-
spicuous for cheerful exaggeration as to
numbers. " We were 350 against 3,500 ! "
they told me, sipping Turkish coffee.
Not being the Xenophon of this epic, I
want to remember only two of the many
incidents of which I heard. For the last
of the actions in question, that of
February 9th, the Turkish regulars had
dispatched 500 men with two guns. Of
these, the mule bearing one fell down
a precipice, while the other was stolen
by Albanians in a village where the
Turkish detachment had halted. The
53
The Sorrows of Epirus
burgling instinct had been stronger than
martial ardour !
When this same action was in progress,
only three persons remained at Khimara.
All the others, women and children too,
were with the troops in the mountains,
the women being used to carry
ammunition.
To-day there were 2,000 regulars in the
district, and behind them the whole mass
of volunteers, for all the men, without
distinction of age, bear arms.
When I questioned an old palikari —
wearing his fustanella, the short, white,
pleated skirt which is the national cos-
tume — he replied : "I am sixty-five, and
I want to live to see us united with Greece.
Meanwhile, I keep my rifle ! " and he
handed me a Mannlicher with the
caution : " It's loaded ! "
All these souvenirs and anecdotes were
told me in John Spiromilio's drawing-
room. Sofas and chairs aligned the wall,
54
A Centre of Hellenism : Khimara
on which old engravings, representing the
King and Queen of Greece, not to mention
Sadi Carnot, hung next to innumerable
family photographs. On a sealed-up door,
white-washed over, someone had painted
in blue the Greek genealogy of the
Spiromilios, and opposite this, by way of
frieze, an archaic fresco of Corfu in the
time of the Venetians enlivened the wall.
The company consisted of the local
notables and military worthies. They
spoke to me freely in French, while I
toyed with a small rose which a young
shepherd, Mylio Bolanos, had gathered
on St. Michael's hill and offered me with
a smile of pleasure as I came out from the
Castello.
THE COAST OF EPIRUS
Khimara, May 9th.
A HIGH wind which prevented the
^^^^ Zatuna from coming from Corfu
to fetch me, held me prisoner at Khimara,
for I could not think of undertak-
ing, with my distinguished companion
and interpreter, a sexagenarian, the
journey over the mountains to Santi
Quaranta, where we could get on to the
Delvino road. Of course, the whole of
this region, from Yanina to Argyrocastro,
depends on Santi Quaranta, and ever
will do so. It is the only breach through
which one can pass. The coast region,
and especially Khimara, depends for its
supplies on Corfu, blocking the western
horizon. You have only to see, behind
56
The Coast of Epirus
the village, the steep, volcanic bluffs
which bar approach on the eastern side,
to realize the situation. The Greeks,
brothers of the Corfiotes, their near neigh-
bours, are established on all this fertile
shore of the Ionian Sea. The fraternizing
is so complete that the Turks had even
given up trying to ignore it. For form's
sake, they maintained a semblance of
authority in these villages, which have
been purely Greek, by culture as well as
by inclination, for centuries. If I was
not a little surprised to find so many
people speaking French here, I was even
more astonished to discover that this
Western culture was not a thing of yester-
day. Not the least of my finds at
Khimara was an ancient edition of the
Voyage du jeune Anacharsis. It would
be deplorable if European diplomacy
handed over this vigorous little centre of
Greek and Western civilization to the
comico-tragic Kingdom of Albania.
Khimara' s claim to union with Greece
57
The Sorrows of Epirus
is based as much on its traditions and
local feeling as on its geographical and
economic situation. It is the top nail
holding the blue and white flag to the
staff of the coast of Epirus, and so truly
has it been driven home that no storm
could remove it. The whole flag would
come away first !
Thus it was not merely for the purpose
of extending her frontiers that Greece
fixed the limits of Hellenic Epirus on
the coast to the north of Khimara.
Khimara cannot be other than Greek
because it is Greek already. The Khim-
ariotes are famous throughout the Greek
Empire. They are a by- word for patriot-
ism. They have to-day earned the reward
for their attachment to the mother-
country.
Greece demanded, therefore, that her
new frontier should start from Gramata
Bay, following the course of the little
stream which discharges its w^aters there,
until it reached the crests of the Keravnia
58
The Coast of Epinis
Mountains, where the summit of Mount
Kjorl, more than two thousand metres
high, was to be the point at which it
turned eastwards. This Hne had the
advantage of sweeping into Greek terri-
tory the hinterland of Khimara, for if
the final pacification of this region is
intended, it is impossible to leave Khimara
to the tender mercies of the Albanian
mountaineers. Hitherto, the Khimariotes,
ever on guard on the heights, had pro-
tected their villages against marauders,
a feat beyond the powers of the less
numerous populations of Nivitza, Lukovo
and other villages which I had visited in
the last few days. But this state of war
had not been without injuring the agri-
cultural and commercial activity of this
region. If ever the Greek Government
is able, through occupation of this terri-
tory, effectively to police it as well as
hold all the vital strategic points, men
will sleep in peace in these villages of the
Epirus coast.
59
The Sorrows of Epirus
Any other course would be recklessly
to perpetuate a state of affairs against
which the Ottoman Government was
helpless, and purely and simply to deliver
up the peaceful and industrial Greeks of
this district to the traditional brigandage
of the Albanians, who would be all the
more brazen because their authority had
been recognized by Europe.
During my enforced sojourn here, I
collected as much information as possible
about the life and customs of the Khim-
ariotes. I will admit that I was intrigued
by the institution of the demogerontice,
the council of eight " Elders " managing
public affairs. I was told some enter-
taining stories as to their proceedings.
The Khimariotes, who go about swathed
in cartridge belts and never move without
their rifles, are somewhat similar to our
Corsican cousins in temperament, and
it sometimes happens that fatal shots
are exchanged between young warriors,
prompted by jealousy or stung by some
60
The Coast of Epirus
insult. There follows a regular vendetta.
The demogerontice then play the role of
peacemaker. They summon the rival
families, and extol the virtue of forgive-
ness, just like the President of the Divorce
Court. If reason triumphs over the
passion for revenge, the affair ends with a
dinner and general reconciliation. Other-
wise, the vendetta continues.
Dinners are much in favour and evidence
here. Every rich citizen bids every day
eight, ten, and even up to twenty guests
to his table. And the favourite dish is
agneau a la palikari.
How the mountains will echo to the
sound of joyous salvos, how agneau d
la palikari will be consumed wholesale
on the day when a boat from Corfu brings
to Khimara the news that union with
Greece is a fact !
Meanwhile, we were without news of
the outside world for three days. A
brave fellow volunteered to get through.
He left a short time ago for Santi
6i
The Sorrows of Epirus
Quaranta. He had to walk all after-
noon and through the night to catch the
Austrian mail-boat, which, coming from
Brindisi, called at Santi Quaranta about
half-past nine in the morning on its way
to Corfu. It was thus that my last
telegram and letter reached France via
Corfu. The papers were sewn into a
little bag, which he hid in his shirt, and
he set out by difficult mountain tracks,
known only to the Khimariotes and the
goats.
THE HINTERLAND OF EPIRUS
Yanina, May 7th,
WHEN I got back to Santi Quaranta
after my departure from Khim-
ara, which was celebrated by tremendous
salvos, it was only the next morning
that I was able to resume my journey to
Delvino and Argyrocastro. This delay
had cheated thousands of the good moun-
tain folk who had followed a whole
night's walk by a whole day's waiting by
the roadside, merely to shout " Long live
France ! " and prove to me their Hellenic
faith and hopes. Some of them had held
out all the same, spent yet another night
in the open air, and this morning offered
me their humble votes hastily scribbled
in pencil on a scrap of paper. They had
no French flag, and a piece of white cloth
63
The Sorrows of Epirus
ornamented with a rough blue cross, the
whole attached to a stick, was the only
standard around which they had gathered.
There were men and women there, literally
in rags, disinherited souls, and yet of a
moving beauty with their bright smile
when I saluted their poor emblem.
" Three days ago," said Dr. Kytariole,
the commandant of an excellent little
field hospital near Santi Quaranta, " when
the news ran round that a Frenchman
was coming, you have no idea of the
excitement and pleasure. Everything was
expected of you : liberation and union
with Greece. You are bringing these poor
folk an infinite hope."
The former impression of moving,
appealing pathos, was renewed. After
centuries of oppression, the Epirotes had
at length heard the hour of deliverance
strike. It never occurred to them that
their history was to be given a violent
twist and that they were going to be put
under the Albanian yoke, a hundred
64
The Hinterland of Epirus
times worse than the Turkish. It is not
a question of an arbitrary frontier, adding
a few square kilometres more or less to
the Kingdom of Greece. It is a question
of the conscience of Europe.
65
DELVING
MY arrival at Delvino, picturesquely
situated in a wide gorge on the
far side of the plain of Kaliassa, was an
event the scale of which I had not antici-
pated. Two thousand people were assem-
bled, with a number of Greek and French
flags. The slopes on the roadside were
lined with little girls from an important
Greek school, all arrayed in pale blue and
white. They sang in chorus a good
attempt at the Marseillaise, while the
crowd yelled " Zito Gallia ! " and the
schoolmaster, surrounded by nine priests,
including the Superior of the Convent of
St. John of the Apocalypse, delivered a
stirring speech to the Frenchman who
66
Delvino
had come to see them. His concluding
words were : '' Long hve France ! Long
hve Greece ! Long Uve the Union ! Long
Hve King Constantine ! " These words
were taken up by the crowd in an outburst
of enthusiasm.
Delvino is a town of 4,000 persons,
half of them Greeks, the other half Al-
banians. The latter are not very clear
as to what they mean by the country of
Albania. The President of the Albanian
Committee of Delvino, Namik bey, in
the previous year represented his fellow-
citizens at the Albanian Conference at
Berat, while the Musulman mayor of
Delvino signed the plebiscite in favour
of union with Greece a few days ago. A
large number of Albanians whom I met
— they are easily distinguished by their
red fez — greeted me as cordially as the
Greeks. From inquiries which I made
during my few hours' stay in Delvino, it
appears that the Albanian population of
these mixed districts have only one desire
67 5*
The Sorrows of Epirus
in life : to keep the belongings they have
acquired.
The idea of an Albanian kingdom
is non-existent. The population of
Delvino itself is halved between the two
nationalities, but if the whole district is
taken there are only 5,500 Albanians
among 22,000 inhabitants. The Alban-
ians of Delvino, who have only been
Musulman since Ali Pasha's time, have
preserved the forms of their earlier Greek
faith. They go to funerals with Greek
rites and send their sons and daughters to
Greek schools.
I paid a call on the teacher who had
conducted with such enthusiasm and
success the chorus of pupils. In the
schoolroom I saw the Marseillaise still
written in Greek characters, with the
pronunciation indicated, on the black-
board. The teacher herself spoke French.
She came from the Higher Grade School
at Corfu. She apologized for not having
done better. " We only knew two days
68
c c c
e e r c e r
Delvino
ago that you were coming." As I thanked
her for all her trouble, she replied : " I
have only done my duty ; France is our
protectress and friend."
TO ARGYROCASTRO
I SHOULD have required to make a
far greater mass of notes than could
possibly be telegraphed at once if I
attempted to give even an approximate
description of the journey from Delvino
to Argyrocastro. Everything I had seen,
felt, and experienced hitherto paled in
comparison with my reception. Every
five hundred metres I had to stop to pass
under a triumphal arch, hear a speech,
witness a peasant dance, acknowledge a
salvo of rifles, receive flowers or a gift of
hard-boiled eggs. On the pink shell of
one of them had been scratched in French :
" Union or Death." The enthusiasm was
so terrific that I despaired of being able
to abbreviate for telegraphic purposes a
whole series of cinematograph scenes, each
70
To Argyrocastro
of which deserved, historically speaking,
detailed description, if only to explain
fully the popular feeling of Epirus.
My arrival at Argyrocastro was the
climax. In the evening a procession of
thousands, holding candles, escorted me
under the old feudal ramparts to the
Cathedral and the archiepiscopal palace.
It was only the occasional intrusion of a
" Zito Khronos / " (" Long live the
Temps .' ") among the chorus of " Long
live France ! Long live Constantine ! "
that prevented me from forgetting that I
was only a joiu-nalist.
71
THE VALLEY OF ARGYROCASTRO
Argyrocastro, May 10th,
T HAVE given a brief but comprehen-
A sive survey of the astounding im-
pression produced on me by my journey
from Delvino to Argyrocastro. I think it
necessary to go over this same ground again
in some detail, because, as I have said,
my experiences were a revelation of the
sentiments of Epirus and the real situa-
tion.
From Delvino to the Musina Pass the
road winds round the slopes of high hills,
which might even be called mountains,
in magnificent country. The whole way
along the road I encountered never-ending
convoys of donkeys and mules, going to
Delvino to fetch the supplies that are
sent out from Santi Quaranta. There is
72
The Valley of Argyrocastro
no other road. The general geographical
system of Epirus is strikingly simple.
On the west side is the coast strip from
Prevesa to Khimara, separated from the
interior of the country by lofty chains of
mountains and therefore necessarily look-
ing to Corfu. In the centre of this coast-
line is a gap, Santi Quaranta, which allows
the little plain (with Del vino at its far end
and itself a kind of ante-chamber to
Central Epirus) to form part of the coast
zone and be, therefore, itself a vassal of
Corfu. After Delvino there is a barrier
of mountains, and at the Musina Pass the
traveller descends into the long and
spacious valley of Argyrocastro, which
gets supplies from Yanina in the south, and
Delvino and the Musina Pass on the
north. Economically this arrangement is
comprehensively simple ; too simple,
perhaps.
From the ethnographical point of view
we have in the coast region an overwhelm-
ing Greek majority, though this Greek
7Z
The Sorrows of Epirus
element is peace-loving and timorous,
except for that pugnacious and uncom-
promising citadel, Khimara. This popu-
lation has always lived in terror of the
minority of Albanian mountain marauders,
whose impudence was all the greater
because it was secretly encouraged by the
Ottoman Government, who found bri-
gandage a profitable and easy source of
revenue. When it is remembered that
in the district of Delvino alone there were
sixty-seven Greek villages and little farm-
ing communities (Chijiik) which had been
recently devastated, looted and burned,
some idea of the depredations of the
Albanian bands may be gathered. The
occupation of this region by the Greek
Army resulted in the capture of the
northern road from the most notorious
of the Albanian leaders, such as Mohamed
bey Kokas, who destroyed Nivitza, the
first village I visited. At the time I
was writing he was at Valona, where he
was earning distinction by his remarkable
74
The Valley of Argyrocastro
advocacy of a Greater Albania ! Of course
he would be furious at the idea of reducing
his hunting-ground !
If peace now reigned in Western Epirus,
if the villagers returned to their ruined
homes and took up their work again, it
must not be forgotten that the presence of
seven thousand men of the army of occu-
pation in this district (Khimara- Argyro-
castro) was the real factor in this resurrec-
tion. Greece, merely to discharge her
moral obligation to her children of Epirus,
would be obliged to retain the 9th Corps
to police the district so long as Albanian
bands practised their local industries out-
side their own boundaries. As for the
small farming Albanian element, formerly
Christian and even now closely mingled
with the Greeks, it would regard as pure
deliverance the end of the nightmare of
oppression which the Albanian bands and
their chiefs, thanks to Turkish helpless-
ness, spread over the land. There is no
nationalism strong enough to regard servi-
75
The Sorrows of Epirus
tude, insecurity of life and the absence of
justice as necessary evils.
At the Musina Pass, where I was to
meet a concourse of the inhabitants of all
the villages round Drovieni (the most
important of them), numbering about one
thousand persons, who had been waiting
since two o'clock in the morning, you
enter, as I have already said, a region of
a totally different character. Whereas
on the coast, and even at Delvino, I met
Greeks whose gaze was constantly fixed
on Corfu, men whom the propinquity of
the sea had enticed to Patras, the Piraeus,
or the Greek islands of the Ionian Sea — in
short, men who were, so to speak, mere
dwellers on the eastern bank of the Greek
lake of Corfu; here for the first time I
heard the cry : " Love live free Epirus ! "
The inhabitants of the coast district know
Greece only. Their cry is : " Long live
Greece ! Long live the Union ! " and their
minds are free from any national local
sentiment. They are Greeks who lack
76
C3>
The Valley of Argyrocastro
only the official trade-mark. Here, on
the other hand, the Epirote ideal holds
sway. You find pride in being a nation
which played an outstanding part in
Greek history from the days of Pyrrhus,
son of Achilles, onwards. Hitherto I had
found Greeks only, Greeks like all others,
established at Santi Quaranta, Nivitza
and Khimara, just as you find them in the
suburbs of Athens. But once Musina
Pass was behind me, everything — costume,
attitude, speech — indicated that I was
entering a district where the race had
maintained its primitive purity, without
the intermingling of foreign strains and
with no loss of vitality. The real Epirus
began here.
The plain of Argyrocastro, which is
watered by a tributary of the Voyusa, is
broad and systematically cultivated. On
the left bank villages succeed each other
almost uninterruptedly. The road from
Delvino, which drops down through the
Musina Pass in sharp spirals, giving the
n
The Sorrows of Epirus
panorama, bounded by snow-capped firs,
many and swiftly-changing aspects, meets
the road in the plains at the village of
Grapsi. At this cross-roads two oaks lean
fraternally towards each other, forming a
natural arch. This had been decorated
and hung with flags, and first the school-
master and then the priest, with his black
cap on his head and his spectacles on his
nose, read me speeches about the libera-
tion of Epirus, the support of France and
the love of Greece. (After hearing so
many of these speeches I was now getting
quite proficient in modern Greek !)
Before the speech had finished, some
twenty women in their Sunday best came
on the scene and formed a circle. They
wore velvet bodices with two-pointed
swallow-tail basques held in place by a
girdle, pleated white skirts like the
fustanella of the Palikari, stockings of
multi-coloured stripes, and white head-
gear framing their faces after the manner
of our nuns. When the speech was
78
The Valley of Argyrocastro
over and the last of the cheers which
followed the peroration, the dance began.
The men took the lead. As they moved
their feet, they proceeded to sing, as at
the opening of a minuet, two verses, which
all the women took up with the same
marked rhythm, at the same time advanc-
ing to the right. It was an old warrior
ditty of the exploits of Djavela de Suli, a
hero of the wars against Ali Pasha, that
tyrant of Epirus. The women were by
no means the least enthusiastic. Some of
them had bandoliers round their waists
and rifles on their shoulders. One in
particular, bronzed by the sun and noted
for her blazing eyes, was in a kind of frenzy.
She held her carbine all the time, and
every now and then fired into the blue
sky. She drew me aside for a moment,
flung herself at my hand and kissed it,
and then rejoined the frantic farandola.
The adventures of Djavela were having
an unexpected sequel, for there was a
distinct likelihood of the capture of Yanina
79
The Sorrows of Epirus
by the Greek army, an event which would
indubitably mark the end of Ali Pasha's
outrageous regime !
We had all the difficulty in the world to
get away and had literally to tear our-
selves free from all these good people,
who were prepared to dance until mid-
night. But it was already late, too late
even to take photographs. I bitterly
regretted this and continued to do so all
the way to Argyrocastro, for it only comes
to a man once in a lifetime to pass in such
a triumphal car. The inhabitants of all
the villages turned out on to the road and
triumphal arches succeeded one another.
I remember the good folk of Liugari,
Frastani, Foritza, Tariachatas, Haskovo,
Vanista, Gorantsi, Dervitsani, the only
places I noted. Everywhere were pla-
cards : " Union or Death 1 " (in French
or Greek), '' Long live free Epirus ! "
" Long live France ! " Some of the arches
were moving for their very crudity, such
as three logs with a decoration of laurel
80
o
CO
A.
>
(U
>
"a
(U
o
o
o
o
The Valley of Argyrocastro
leaves. A more elaborate one had em-
broidered spirals. At one place twenty
metres of road had been strewn with
flowers. At another the priest, with three
choir-boys, had brought the church plate
to lend a little splendour to the proceed-
ings.
At another it was a plate of jam {lukum)
and the traditional glass of water that was
solemnly brought to my carriage, else-
where a small glass of poor local spirits.
But everywhere the young women had
their best finery out and the jewels they
had worn at the recent orthodox Easter.
They were drawn up in a circle on each
side of the road, awaiting the signal to
dance. And of course there was the un-
ending series of speeches, addresses, songs,
salvos and bouquets.
There was one tiny village, the name of
which I have unfortunately forgotten,
which numbered in all some twenty souls.
Here neither speech nor dance had been
prepared, owing to the small number
8i 6
The Sorrows of Epirus
of possible participants. They simply
gathered round their priest, the smallest
children in front, and formed a melan-
choly little group at the foot of the double
gallows which did duty for a triumphal
arch. When the carriage stopped, the
priest delivered himself of a few words,
hardly that. I asked my travelling com-
panion to translate this short speech,
and he replied : " He is asking God to
grant you a happy life, as you have come
here to see the unfortunate people of
Epirus."
82
ARGYROCASTRO
ArgyrocastrOf May 11th.
1D0 not intend to describe Argyro-
castro, with its houses cHnging hke
wasps' nests to the side of five buttresses
of the mountains, and dominated by the
huge Byzantine fortress of Alexis Com-
nenus, which AU Pasha later converted
into one of the citadels of his tyranny.
The town was en fete, and the Greek
Metropolitan, Mgr. Basil, who for six-
teen years had guarded and guided the
Christians of this part of Epirus with the
greatest goodwill (he had already occupied
the bishoprics of Yanina and Berat),
had come to meet and welcome the
French journalist. It was by the side of
this prelate, who supported his green
old age on a long stick with a silver knob,
83 6*
The Sorrows of Epirus
that I dimbed the hill, passing through a
great crowd, which cheered and waved
flags. We arrived thus at the ancient
Law Courts, a vast edifice of archaic
architecture, with large interior wooden
galleries running round a central hall.
The accompanying crowd here took up its
station and shouted lustily : " Long live
France ! " While I paid my respects to
the authorities, M. Tzetzos, the Prefect,
Colonel Yoannon, commanding the 9th
Division, and Major Trupakis, night fell.
His Eminence asked me to the Arch-
bishop's Palace. As we appeared on the
steps, a veritable roar burst forth. The
scene was almost fairy-like. Thousands
of tiny lights stabbed the darkness. They
were candles, and the result was the nearest
they could get to a torchlight procession.
Before us, two standard-bearers at the head
of the cortege had bound together the
Greek and French flags. Children, lower-
ing their candles to the ground, lighted the
venerable prelate's footsteps. So we pro-
84
Argyrocastro
ceeded at a solemn processional pace.
Soon the crowd, who were now adding :
" Long live General Eydoux ! Long live
the French army ! " and even '' Long live
the Temps / " to their other acclamations,
began to sing hymns. First came the
Hymn of the Resurrection : " Christ is
risen. He has brought to life those in
the tomb," followed by a chant the singing
of which was marked by special enthusiasm
because it contained topical allusions :
"Lord, save Thy people,
And give Thy blessing
To this people, thy sheep.
Ever grant victory to our kings
Over the barbarians."
It was an old hymn, dating from Byzan-
tine times. The Turkish authorities had
no love for it, of course, and indeed en-
forced the substitution of the words " the
Faithful " instead of " our Kings." Now
all hearts could express themselves freely,
85
The Sorrows of Epirus
and an enormous amount of conviction
was put into the words :
Nikas tois basileuoi
Kata barbaron doroumenos.
It was barely two months since the
Turkish Army had evacuated Argyrocastro
and the Greeks entered it. The town was
already transformed. All the paint and
cloth shops were flourishing. Every pot
of blue paint, every blue rag found a
purchaser. Even the much-arahiehs were
painted in the Greek colours. The Musul-
mans, who were numerous here (Etienne
Labranche once said that they congre-
gated in the principal towns to assure
themselves a numerical superiority which
they did not possess in the whole country),
were perfectly calm and content with the
new turn of affairs. The exemplary
behaviour of the Greek troops filled them
with amazement. They expected the vic-
torious army to loot wholesale. As soon
86
Argyrocastro
as things settled down they were perfectly
satisfied.
I had a state visit from the cadi, the
mufti, and various other authorities whose
office I did not exactly know. They spoke
highly of the Greek officials and adminis-
tration, with whom they were on excellent
terms. It was only necessary to see the
familiarity with which these Albanians
and the Greek officers, for they all spoke
Greek, treated each other to realize that
this is no fiction. The certainty of order
and justice immediately won over the
best of the Albanians of Argyrocastro,
the only Albanians in this exclusively
Greek district. The smaller fry were in-
different. A few beys alone, a handful of
ex-magnates with uneasy conscience, were
still unhappy. They expected a day of
reckoning.
87
SOME TOUCHING DOCUMENTS
T SPENT my time yesterday afternoon
^ in running through and getting the
gist of a growing sheaf of papers which
has already reached some dimensions.
In it were all the requests received and
all the addresses delivered during my
journey.
It included regular petitions filling
whole manuscript books, such as that
handed to me on the Pass of Musina by
the thirteen neighbouring villages, Upper
Lechnitza, Lower Lechnitza, Divra,
Divros, Aghios Andreas, Maltsani, Tsar-
kovitza, Lusati, Krongi, Musina, Keraseti,
Grasdani and Smenitza. These villages
compose an entire district, which you
will find on the map east of Delvino.
88
Some Touching Documents
The chief persons of each village affixed
their signatures to the following declara-
tion : " We are Greeks and we demand
union with Greece."
I give here the declaration drawn up
by the schoolmaster and signed by the
two ephors of the commune of Dervitszani.
" We are Greeks of Epirus, not
Albanians. Nothing can shake our deter-
mination. Now that we enjoy the bless-
ing of liberty, no one shall ever tear us
from the arms of our mother-country,
Greece. As the sons of Greece, we prefer
death to the yoke of an uncivilized and
uncultured people."
A wafer on which is a representation of
the crucifix accompanies the signatures.
The representatives of Graspi, Lungari
and Frastani write :
" The schools and charitable institutions
of this country are the work of Greece
and of Epirus, the work of the country's
own sons. This fact attests the sentiments
of the people."
89
The Sorrows of Epirus
The village priest of Sofratika associates
himself with his commune in declaring
that " it will defend its liberty to the
last breath."
The commune of Haskovo declares that
*' union with Greece is a question where
discussion and compromise are impossible.
Liberty is not a subject for argument."
The commune of Vanista says :
" We read in the newspapers that the
powerful ones of this world, misconceiving
the national feeling and the sentiments
graven upon our hearts, wish to hand us
over to the mercies of a barbarous people.
We have always fought for liberty on the
side of Greece. No one has the right to
tear it from us." _
The folk of Calogorantsi assert the
national enthusiasm for the blessed
liberty that they have achieved.
" Liberty was the dream of our fathers.
To-day it is realized. Greek Epirus is
a noble country, not to be confused with
barbarous Albania. We shall remain free
90
Some Touching Documents
Epirotes." Here follow the names of all
the chief men of the commune.
The same foundation underlies all these
declarations and all the speeches that
were delivered. It is the impossibility
of exchanging the Turkish yoke for the
Albanian, which would be a hundred
times worse, the assertion of love of
Greece, the necessity for union with it,
the cry " Union or death ! "
One of the orators actually quoted the
verses of Rigas Ferreos, the poet and
protomartyr of Greek independence.
They have become a classic in Greece,
and, I am told, in Epirus.
"Better an hour of liberty than forty years of
fettered servitude."
In order to convey an accurate idea of
the gist and tenor of these addresses, I
will give the complete text of one.
((
Sir, the people of Epirus feel a joy
91
The Sorrows of Epirus
at your presence which is beyond all
power of expression. For you represent
a country which is the beloved friend of
Greece. You represent France, which
always, at all epochs, has defended the
vital interests of Greece. Epirus has long
suffered under a cruel yoke. Nevertheless,
our country, condemned to slavery so
many centuries ago, has at last seen its
hopes realized, thanks to the valiant
Greek Army.
'' When we lift our faces to the free
heavens, and breathe the pure air of
liberty, gazing with wide-open eyes upon
its radiant light, we suffer at the same
time the pain of knowing that cruel and
unchristian hearts inspired by selfish ideas
and interests are straining every nerve to
drive once more beneath the yoke this
people upon whom the light has shone,
endeavouring to subject a country purely
Greek to a race which is unversed in
civilization and of a despotic temper.
" History proves that Epirus has wit-
92
Some Touching Documents
nessed the birth of heroes who, ever since
the period of the first War of Independence,
have shed their blood for union with
Greece. As Epirotes, we would rather lie
rotting upon our barren mountains than
put ourselves in the grasp of the iron
claws of a wilful tyrrany. But we count
upon the liberal sentiments of our friends
among the Great Powers, France and
England, and upon the sincere affection
for us shown by their representatives, to
whom we offer our tears as evidence of
our gratitude.
And with one voice we cry :
Death before Separation.
Long live the beloved friend of Greece,
our mother-country.
Long live France.
Long may you live, the representative
of France.
Long live our King, Constantine.
Long live Venizelos.
Long live Greece.
Long live Epirus."
93
The Sorrows of Epirus
This address and the quotations made
above were subscribed by the whole
valley of Argyrocastro. The valley is
entirely Greek, and Greek villages extend
considerably further north than Argyro-
castro. However, I was unable to visit
them all. This caused keen disappoint-
ment, and I began to receive first tele-
grams, and soon deputations of villagers
from the country to the north of Argyro-
castro. One of the most typical of these
telegrams comes from Tepeleni, a local
centre of some importance. As a
matter of fact, it is signed by four Mos-
lems, the mufti, the mayor and two
sheykhs.
" We hear that you cannot visit our
town, and so from a distance greet the
representative of the French people and
bid him welcome in our country. At
the same time, we beg you to make
known our deep love for our Motherland,
Greece, from whom no armed intervention
94
Some Touching Documents
by the labourers in the cause of injustice
shall ever separate us.
(Signed) " Suahid, Mufti.
Abdullah, Mayor.
Sheykh Kalen.
Sheykh Mezud.
a
" Economos.
" Spilios.
" Andonios."
The deputations from the northern
villages expressed themselves in the same
manner. These good people came in an
endless procession to the big hall of the
law courts at Argyrocastro, where I stood
in a crowd of turbanned and befezzed
Mahommedans.
When all had duly delivered their
addresses, I saw a solitary figure approach-
ing, a shepherd of sorts, who was twisting
his cap between his fingers and seemed
to be the victim of a despairing emotion.
He had travelled from Berat, over
forty-five miles distant. Dropping his cap,
95
The Sorrows of Epirus
he told me in a choking voice what crowds
of Greeks over there in his country went
in fear of their Uves (here he drew a finger
across his throat), and he begged me to
demand the inclusion of Berat in Greek
Epirus. However was I to tell him that
he must give up all hope, that the Greek
Government had not included Berat
within the new frontiers ? I shook his
hand in silence and lowered my eyes to
avoid the dumb question in his.
96
RECOLLECTIONS OF ARGYRO-
CASTRO AND DELVINAKI
Yanina, May 13th.
IT is raining, and there is thunder
growhng in the distance. Moun-
tains and lake have vanished behind
the thick veil which is turning all the
street gutters into torrents. It is a perfect
deluge, one of those dismal days which
you meet on a summer holiday in Switzer-
land, when you fly to your own room in
the hotel, and stay there with no company
except the flowers you have picked on the
mountain pastures. I have flowers, too,
in my tooth-glass, the only vase I have
been able to find. There are roses, yellow
marguerites and irises, some sprigs of mint
and other fragrant greenery. It is a
97 7
The Sorrows of Epirus
selection made from the mass piled on to
my carriage and presented to me during
the journey from Argyrocastro here.
The sight of them calls up pictures in
my mind, and how could I better spend
a rainy day than in putting down these
recollections on paper for fear lest my
memory, under the spell of more vivid
emotions, should first neglect and then
forget them altogether ? To begin with,
there is before my eyes the little girl
who presented me with irises at Del-
vinaki. There was quite a crowd there
from every part of the district of Pogoni ;
in fact there were so many people that
they had built two triumphal arches,
and I had to listen to as many as ^ye
addresses. The manuscript of one, which
consisted of at least three large sheets,
was decorated with three enormous calico
rosettes, red, white and blue, and ended
with cheers for the French Republic, the
French people and for Monsieur Ptvl
Uiti). It was after the first address that
98
Argyrocastro and Delvinaki
the small child climbed, or rather, was
pushed, on to the step of the carriage.
She was afraid, horribly afraid, and I
had to put on my nicest expression, that
which one keeps for very tiny children
when one wants to see them smile. She
was trembling and could not remember
the little compliments which they had
taught her. She stumbled over her task,
and her childish eyes seemed to be staring
into the mists of the far distance. I
should have liked to help her and say :
" I know all about it. I know the misery
of those speech-day recitations with the
head master on the platform. Don't be
afraid. Just give me your irises. I quite
understand." But she did not under-
stand the language spoken by my eyes,
and with the anxious crowd breathing
heavily all round, she lost her head and
tried to go on. Then I kissed her, and
kissed the flowers too, I believe, at the
same time as her fair hair, and cried,
" Zito Hellas."
99 7*
The Sorrows of Epirus
The crowd fired off rifles and cheered,
making such a commotion that I hoped
in the general hubbub the child would
forget her woes and join in the gaiety all
round her. But she stayed where she
was, on the step of the carriage, with her
large round eyes now fixed on me, and
seemed very unhappy, as though I had
played my part very badly in cutting
short her welcome, as though, after being
chosen to speak for all her brothers and
sisters, the school-children of her village,
the virtue of her little action were now
lost beyond recall, as though the mystic
ritual of sympathy were made invalid
by the omission of a single word. Per-
haps she will remain under this impression,
that she spoilt everything, until the day
when the Greek flag floats finally over
the district of Pogoni. And, no doubt,
she will never know that she played
her childish part well, and promoted
the cause of Hellenism gallantly and
effectively.
100
Argyrocastro and Delvinaki
Now my mind runs back to Argyrocastro
on a Sunday. At church the Gospel was
read by a sergeant, who chanted in that
terrible nasal voice which is so common
at orthodox ceremonies. The Bishop,
Vasilios, was on his throne; the
enamelled crozier on which he leant was
decorated with sky-blue ribands, the
Greek colour, and, looking up, I saw
blue wreaths among the purple hangings,
and even blue shades cut out of paper
on the candelabra. After the service,
the faithful climbed the narrow, sharply-
rising street leading towards the citadel,
to go down again across the market to
the town hall. The crowd was thick, and
soon overflowed into the neighbouring
alleys. Some speakers stood in a group
on the terrace in front of the portico.
These were the delegates from the villages
threatened with annexation to the Al-
banian kingdom. They uttered their
determination to struggle to the last
against this iniquity, and their protesta-
lOI
The Sorrows of Epirus
tions were received with cheers. As I
leant out of one of the windows of the
town hall to take a photograph, I was
seen, and fresh and deafening cheers for
France were raised.
Some hours later, as I was engaged in
writing, a deputation was announced by
my host, M. Zotidis, an amiable old
bachelor, who, they told me, had left
all his money to the Greek schools at
Argyrocastro and even taken the pre-
caution of building his own house on such
a plan that it could be turned into a
college directly after his death. Hastily
getting into a collar, tie and waistcoat, I
joined the visitors in the reception-room.
They were the school-master, the school-
mistress and some of their pupils. They
must have chosen the little boys and girls
with the newest clothes ! Anyhow, when
I had questioned them about their parents'
professions I found that two out of the
four boys were sons of tailors. As the
usual jam- tray went round I talked with
102
Argyrocastro and Delvinaki
the teachers. They told me of their
efforts to keep ahve the Greek idea under
Turkish rule as simply as if they had done
the most natural thing in the world, None
the less, the story revealed the fineness
of their characters, and history could tell
a fine story of these Greek teachers in
Epirus, subjected to every kind of official
affront, to every restriction, and pursuing
their patriotic task in spite of all. No
Greek book printed at Athens was allowed
into the schools. Everything had to come
from Constantinople. Greek history was
forbidden. Accordingly they gave extra
lessons in secret, and at these, without
book or paper, the little Epirote learnt to
know his motherland, its national hymn,
its poetry and the stories of its heroes.
The pupils held in their hands the teachers'
lives. An indiscreet or a treacherous word
would have been enough. Surely this is
rather touching ! Here, at an age when
children are so fond of play, were 200
small boys and 250 little girls readily
103
The Sorrows of Epirus
attending additional lessons to talk of
Greece, and then going home with closed
lips and enthusiasm kept secret in their
breasts.
When I asked the boys what they meant
to be, each answered, " A soldier." So I
did not keep them long perched on M.
Zotidis' arm-chairs, and they were able
to join their friends, who were drilling
on the road below the fort.
A last recollection of Argyrocastro.
The commandant told me that in the last
few days numbers of peasants had come
to him to ask for arms to defend their
freedom in case, after all, an attempt were
made to annex their villages to the king-
dom of Albania. He mentioned in par-
ticular one woman, who came with a full
bandolier across her breast. " I have
the bullets, and only want the rifle. Give
me a rifle. I won't go away without a
rifle." The Commandant did not tell
me if she went away successful, but if
he did not give way he must have had
104
Argyrocastro and Delvinaki
some difficulty in getting rid of this
Amazon, for the Epirote women are as
desperately determined as the men, if
not more so. They know what will happen
to them under Albanian tyranny.
105
MEETING THE CROWN PRINCE
13 UT for the sixty horse-power car to
^—^ which I entrusted my fate I
should have reached Koritza in time to
see the triumphal entry of the Crown
Prince. As we were descending a hill
thirty-four miles from Yanina the brakes
went wrong, the car charged a tree,
smashed the radiator and capsized, leaving
me fortunately still alive. However, I
had to wait twenty-four hours for another
conveyance, and covered the remaining
seventy-five miles at a more cautious rate.
In any case, the state of the road did not
permit of record-breaking, and we were
quite satisfied to arrive with whole skins.
The road winds along the side of bare
mountains, as dismal as a lunar land-
scape, in a series of hair-pin bends, and
io6
Meeting the Crown Prince
the torrent beds are crossed by sensa-
tional culverts, Javid Pasha having blown
up all the bridges. The whole district is
characterized by a depressing sterility.
For long miles we never saw a soul. The
countryside is completely deforested, and
there are only a few herds of goats to be
seen browsing on the thin vegetation.
Still, there are a few collections of houses :
first Liaskoviki, then Brorusto, then
Colonia. Feverish preparations were being
made everywhere ; at Liaskoviki, where
Javid left some hundreds of wounded at
their last gasp, all the houses had been
whitewashed and the doors and windows
were decorated with wreaths of box. At
Brorusto triumphal arches had been
erected at each end of the village. The
square at Colonia was ornamented with
flag-poles, wrapped in blue and white
spirals, like a Spanish village on the day of
a bull-fight. Mahommedan and Christian
vied in enthusiasm. In one place was a
soldier, the handy-man, driving nails,
107
The Sorrows of Epirus
while five red-fezzed villagers held the
ladder for him. In other places we saw
Mahommedans going about with immense
bundles of green-stuff. There was nothing
to distinguish one from another. All
spoke in Greek when they answered our
questions or bade us welcome and a happy
journey.
It was seven o'clock when we arrived at
Koritza. The appearance of the town was
a complete surprise to us. The wide
boulevard and the two square towers of
the cathedral gave the place an air not
in the least Oriental, and still less Turkish.
After all, one feels quite outside Europe
in these typical little villages, with their
shamefaced churches, which look exactly
like the surrounding houses till the eye
falls on the timid curve of the chancel.
Koritza, however, is a Western town
transplanted to the middle of Epirus.
The first touch of Islam which caught our
eyes was equally strange. Looking from
one of the windows of the prefecture, I
io8
Meeting the Crown Prince
saw, silhouetted against the red glare of
the sun, softened as it sank behind the
distant mountains, the white minaret of
the mosque, with its sharp, conical roof.
At the moment the balcony from which
the muezzin calls to prayer was lit up with
little lamps, for the evening service was
beginning, and it was something very
touching to see this sign of the mosque's
participation in the rejoicings of which a
Christian prince was to be the object.
109
THE NIGHT FESTIVAL AT
KORITZA
T T was nine o'clock. Through every
^ street and alley the crowd was
pouring towards the little episcopal palace
in which the Crown Prince was lodged.
All the houses were illuminated with the
little blue flames of candles set in a row
behind the glass windows. The sight was
a little disconcerting ; it was so like Christ-
mas in the North of France, when they
celebrate the birth of Our Lord. Every-
one who went out of doors carried a
lighted taper under the starry sky of
May through the warmth of a glorious
spring evening, and one was surprised
at not seeing beneath their feet, bluish-
white in the moonlight, the snow of a
late December.
no
The Night Festival at Koritza
The one festival may be a symbol of
the other, and perhaps the allegory is not
too strained, for this people was celebrat-
ing the free expression of its religious and
patriotic faith, the first and greatest reve-
lation.
The Crown Prince was on a balcony of
the palace. He had stuck an eyeglass
in one eye to keep himself in countenance,
but it did not succeed in concealing his
emotion, and from time to time the glass
slipped from his eye and he had to wipe
away the moisture which clouded it. The
police could hardly keep the crowd within
bounds, and it began to invade the palace
garden. There, for about three-quarters
of an hour, an indescribable throng filed
past, thousands of men, women and chil-
dren, cheering the Prince, singing patriotic
hymns, waving Venetian lanterns, flags,
handkerchiefs and hats, lifting their hands
together in salutation and bowing. In
this procession were old women with fur-
trimmed cloaks, carrying the Easter-
III
The Sorrows of Epirus
candle and crossing themselves as they
passed beneath the balcony, old men
ceremoniously carrying tapers, others
whose tapers and candles were decorated
with blue favours. There were young
boys dressed as Evzoni, and others, poorer,
whose little robes of dark holland and
whose tousled hair made them look like
choir-boys at a Mass for all those whom
the world has despised and rejected.
There were babies perched on their fathers'
shoulders, dark-haired girls in white man-
tillas, townsfolk in bowler hats and
peasants burnt with the sun. Red fezzes,
too, were in evidence, and their owners
not the least forward in crying " Long
live the Crown Prince." Among these
Mahommedans was one who attracted a
good deal of attention, an old man bowed
almost double, who leant upon a knotted
staff and held a lantern in one hand. He
moved slowly forward, while the crowd
held respectfully aloof. On arriving before
the balcony, he raised his eyes, saluted the
112
The Night Festival at Koritza
4
Prince by putting his lantern to his heart,
and passed on his way towards the narrow
exit which opened on to the front of tbp
ancient cathedral.
113 8
IMPRESSIONS OF THE CROWN
PRINCE
THE Prince invited us to join him on
the first-floor of the palace. From
there we could take in at a glance the
whole of the gay throng. In it were
multitudes of moving lights and from it
came the sound of continuous cheering.
A little band was playing on the grass plot,
and one felt as though it were the 14th of
July. After all, it was the fall of a Bastille
that everyone was celebrating. ~_^
As the march-past ceased for a moment,
the Crown Prince gave me his impressions.
" It is a pity," he said, " that you could
not arrive yesterday. I received demon-
strations of enthusiasm which would have
given you even more solid proof, if possible,
than this evening of the sentiments of
114
Impressions of the Crown Prince
this people towards my country, which is
really their own. As I passed, doves were
loosed and people dashed forward to kiss
my feet. I have never been so strongly
moved. For hours I had to receive depu-
tations from every village of the neigh-
bourhood, and those not yet occupied
by the Greek forces entreated me to
send troops as a guarantee that they
would not be included in Albania."
The Prince spoke next of his journey
from Salonica by way of Monastir. Every-
where his reception had been equally
enthusiastic.
However, the march-past began again.
Now we had all the gipsies of the town,
who also had determined to welcome the
Crown Prince. While he saluted, leaning
on the rail of the balcony, I turned over
the leaves of some books lying on the
table. One was an old fifteenth-century
Gospel, the other a book printed in Greek
in 1744 at the neighbouring town of
Moschopolis. The road was too bad for
115 8*
The Sorrows of Epirus
the Prince to visit this historic centre of
Hellenism, so they had brought him these
witnesses to a civilization of which Albania
could certainly give no similar proofs.
In Moschopolis there are 24 Christian
churches, and Greek scholastic institu-
tions which give instruction to 2,200 pupils,
a number comparable to that at Koritza,
where, out of a total population of 18,000
souls, 14,000 are Greeks.
At last the march-past ceased. The
Prince left the balcony and the crowd
dispersed through the narrow streets to
the broad illuminated boulevard, where
till a late hour the people of this town,
who only the other day dare not leave their
houses after sunset, will celebrate their
liberation with songs of joy.
Liaskoviki, May 19th.
Yesterday I was present at the recep-
tion of the Crown Prince in the mosque
ii6
Impressions of the Crown Prince
of Koritza. An arm-chair covered with
red velvet had been set in the middle of
the building, and all the Mahommedan
clergy, surrounded by the chief men,
formed a semicircle about the Prince.
An address was read by the mufti, and
then one by the Mahommedan mayor,
whom the Turkish authorities had placed
at the head of this community, though it
is three-quarters Christian, and whom the
Greeks had continued in office. The address
breathed an uncompromising loyalty, and
was greeted with applause by the whole
assembly.
The programme for the afternoon in-
cluded a visit to a dervish monastery near
the town. The Crown Prince toM me
about the excursion to-day. " The in-
mates of the convent," he said, " are
schismatical Bektashi, who worship the
prophet Elias. Their chief carries on his
girdle a huge button of cut crystal, which
came, according to him, from the trap-
pings of Elias' horse. The monks, to
117
The Sorrows of Epirus
judge from their splendid cellar, are
Epicureans. They are beggars who carry,
on their excursions into the countryside,
a buffalo-horn, the blasts of which
announce their coming and act as a signal
for alms to be got ready. They have
urgently requested Greek protect on, like
their more orthodox Mahommedan bro-
thers. Now that there is no more
question of the return of Turkish rule,
and the only problem raised is that of
subjection to the Northern Albanians, it
appears that the entire Mahommedan
section of the community regards the
Albanian solution with intense horror.
They know they would be robbed and held
to ransom, so they come to us, moved by
the very natural desire for protection and
security."
Everyone at Koritza whom I was able
to question gave the same answer. Under
the Turkish regime they achieved a cer-
tain prosperity owing to their numbers
and their superior commercial aptitude ;
ii8
Impressions of the Crown Prince
attached to Albania, Koritza would be
deserted by its inhabitants, for the Greeks
would prefer emigration to life under
Albanian rule. Now Koritza is the com-
mercial centre to which come all the
villagers within a radius of twelve miles.
It has direct communication via Lias-
koviki with the great valley of the Voyusa.
Yesterday was market day at Koritza,
and in the afternoon when I left the town
ahead of the Crown Prince to go to
Liaskoviki we were constantly compelled
to slacken our pace owing to the strings of
donkeys, horses and mules returning to
the villages.
119
LIASKOVIKI
A MAGNIFICENT view greets the
-^^ traveller who emerges into the
valley of the Voyusa, north of Liaskoviki.
The snowy chain of Nemestzka towers
along the horizon. In the nearer dis-
tance the high hills are like pieces of
green embroidery, and the pearls, tiny
villages about which winding paths and
tracks make a setting of pink and red
arabesques, the whole bidding the
traveller halt and silently survey the
scene. Liaskoviki, which is built on a
rocky eminence in the middle of this
panorama, was completing its decorations
when I arrived, and this morning, at
least two hours before the arrival of the
Prince, the entire population without
exception was crowding round the tri-
120
Liaskoviki
umphal arches at the entry to the
stragghng hamlet. On the right of the
road were the orthodox clergy, on the
left the Mahommedan, the first in green,
red, or yellow chasubles, the effect of
which was enhanced by gold embroidery.
Their chief carried on his breast the
Gospels in a binding of purple velvet
with old silver ornaments.
The dignified forms of the Mahomme-
dans were draped in long robes of black,
green, or white. The schismatic Bektashis
were there too, and upon one majestic
waist I noticed the famous crystal button
that came from Elias' appointments, the
one which had caught the Prince's eye at
the neighbouring convent of Koritza.
If all the chief Bektashis of the East
possess this relic, Elias' charger must
have looked like a glass chandelier.
About midday the speedy arrival of the
Prince's carriage was signalled from the
top of the pass by a sentinel with a flag.
Enthusiastic cheers greeted him as soon
121
The Sorrows of Epirus
as he set foot on the ground. The young
Prince kissed the Gospels, Ustened to the
addresses dehvered in Greek and Turkish,
and then walked towards the first houses
of the village. The enthusiasm became
delirious. Armfuls of flowers were thrown
on to him and in front of him from the
slopes above. The front rows of the
crowd, both men and women, broke
through the line of troops and threw them-
selves upon the Crown Prince, kneeling
in the dust to kiss his feet, his knees, his
sword and his hands. The officers had
to interfere to free him, but a few paces
further on the same wild and impassioned
scene was repeated, a thing that no one
could imagine who had not seen it.
A little later, when I spoke to the
Prince, he confessed to me that though
much the same thing had happened at
Koritza, he had not become accustomed
to it, but was deeply vexed and upset
at these signs of adoration. " Nothing,"
he said, " quite comes up to the old
122
Liaskoviki
Mussulman whom we met on reaching
the open country after leaving Colonia.
He stood on the road, right in our way,
and as the car had to stop so as not to
run over him, he made a dash at me, and
touching my cap, my shoulders and my
breast, called down blessings upon me."
The welcome at Liaskoviki will be one
of the Prince's most delightful recollec-
tions, for the decoration of the little town
was in the most charming taste. In the
quarter visible from the road, the in-
habitants had covered the roofs with
carpets, for the most part red and yellow,
and the triumphal route to the prefecture
was for six hundred yards entirely covered
with branches of evergreen, a fresh and
cheerful tapestry, the gift of poverty
inspired by love.
123
KONITZA
1^1 riTHOUT constantly repeating the
^ ' same story, it is impossible to
describe the feehngs displayed throughout
all this country of Greek Epirus. What a
pity it is that a few Austrian journalists
did not think of accompanying the Crown
Prince on his journey ! They would
surely have been compelled to see the
truth and utter it. The Greek exchequer
is not rich enough to buy so much en-
thusiasm to order, and though intimida-
tion might produce external respect, it
could never succeed in arousing the
demonstrations which I witness every
day. What is more, the Mahommedan
minority, which is asserted to be Albanian,
must then have been guilty of con-
temptible hypocrisy. When I went
124
Konitza
through Delvino the Mahommedans held
aloof and did not come to see me : their
consciences were ill at ease on account of
certain misdeeds committed against the
Greek peasants of the neighbouring plain.
I was not displeased that they should
hold aloof, though under different cir-
cumstances their action might have made
me doubt the sentiments expressed else-
where.
At Liaskoviki the Albanian beys, that
is the rich men with fortunes of anything
from £4,000 to £80,000, showed as great
enthusiasm as any round the Prince.
In any case, twenty out of thirty of them
have estates in Thessaly, i.e., in Greece
proper.
We arrived at Konitza at five in the
afternoon. Here there are 3,000 Greeks
in a population of 4,000. Konitza lies
at the foot of a great and lofty mountain.
The town, in steeply rising tiers, extends
along the last foot-hill, which dies away
into the plain of the Voyusa. The scenery
125
The Sorrows of Epirus
is Alpine in character. High mountains
with many summits tower above the
short valley. The Voyusa rushes out of
a wild and narrow gorge, and a little
bridge of audacious construction, shaped
like the asses' bridge in Euclid, serves to
link the two banks of the torrent and
allows the mountain-folk access to Konitza
without the long detour made by the
road from Liaskoviki to Yanina. The
crowd had collected under the planes at
the bottom of the town. The bishop,
in a bulging mitre with gold pendants
standing out against his purple head-
dress, was at the head of his clergy. These
held tapers crossing each other like the
supports of a tripod and tied round with
blue favours in honour of the young
Prince. The road which we had to follow
from the lower end of the town to the
cathedral, was marked by carpets which
the inhabitants had specially brought out
from their houses. In front of every
door was a sort of altar. A table was
126
Konitza
spread with the best white hnen, and on
it, surrounded by flower vases and wreaths
as with a frame, was a portrait of the
King, of Venizelos, or some other of the
popular heroes who personify the victories
of Greece. It was a triumphal way such
as I have never seen. As the Prince went
by, flowers were thrown from the balconies
and young girls in the front rows of the
crowd sprinkled him with jasmine and
rose water.
As I came out of the cathedral after
the thanksgiving service, someone stopped
me and said : '' Are you not M. Rene
Puaux, of the Temps ? " On my an-
swering that I was, he bade me wait a
moment. He made a sign and at once
the crowd broke into the " Marseillaise,"
rendering it with fervour and clear enun-
ciation. Here, as elsewhere in this tor-
tured country, France is regarded as the
protectress, the one nation which can
give liberty to the oppressed. As I ex-
pressed my thanks, cheers broke out,
127
The Sorrows of Epirus
and I fled to my host's house, accompanied
by my kind interpreter, the schoolmaster
Papas, who had been educated in our
French schools at Beyrut. My host is
a doctor and he talked to me of the
prospects offered by his profession in
Epirus, a poverty-stricken country, where
the fee for a visit is two francs, and where,
in the one little town of Konitza, he has
to face the competition of four colleagues.
He invited me to dinner en famille, and
according to the Eastern custom, his
sister and his mother served the meal
without sharing it. They would have
liked to see me take a second helping of
every dish, and put down an enormous
plate of yaurt on which " Vive la France "
was written in powdered cinnamon.
Evening came ; a torch-light procession
promenaded the town and rifle shots
rang out. The gaiety was universal.
128
PREMETI
77 ROM the bridge of the Voyusa,
^ which is the key to all these
valleys, those of Konitza, Yanina and
Premeti, we have arrived at this last
town. The reception has been of the
same triumphal character. As elsewhere,
the Mahommedans, as well as the Greeks,
have assured the Crown Prince of their
unanimous wish to become Greek sub-
jects ; as elsewhere there have been cere-
monies in the church and in the mosque ;
as elsewhere, we have been deafened by
persistent cheers for Greece, the Union,
King Constantine and the Crown Prince.
Among other quaint incidents were an
excited address from a woman who must
have had the mind and character of a
suffragette, the wild enthusiasm of another
129 9
The Sorrows of Epirus
toothless old dame from whom the Prince
escaped with difficulty, and the Greek
Anthem accompanied by instrumentalists
wearing red fezzes and therefore obviously
Mahommedans .
130
YANINA
T LEFT the Prince at Premeti, preced-
-*• ing him to Yanina by twenty-four
hours. After four days' absence, I found
the town completely transformed. Mas-
sive arches have been put up, decorated
with Turkish rifles and flanked by
captured guns. The people have brought
out quantities of flags and masses of
green-stuff to add to the decorations.
The capital of Epirus is stirred to the
bottom by a feverish excitement, though
usually its quiet nights are disturbed
only by the croaking of the thousands of
frogs in the lake. Here the Greeks have
always been in a great majority, and the
rejoicings are on a scale proportionate to
the importance of the town. However,
I am rather tired of describing fetes.
131 9*
The Sorrows of Epirus
I went for a chat with our vice-consul,
M. Dussap, and his charming wife, who
writes under the name of Guy Chante-
pleure. I listened to the stories both
had to tell of the siege of Yanina, and
went to see the site of the gallows on
which the Turks used to hang Greeks,
the place which M. Bilinski chose to be
photographed in with his wife and his
vice-consul. I was taken to the open-air
cafe on the outskirts, the fashionable
resort of Yanina, under the shade of a
gigantic tree, and from the hotel balcony
I saw the Crown Prince arrive amid the
applause of the populace. Then I packed
up.
132
YANINA TO METZOVO
^^ TE left Yanina at six in the morn-
^ ^ ing, and as we crossed the lake
our oarsmen were assisted by a light
breeze which vouchsafed to fill the sail.
We reached the far shore at seven-thirty,
just as the guns in Yanina began to fire a
salute on the Prince's departure for
Argyrocastro. Our guide, the head mule-
teer, Costa, loaded our beasts, and the
little caravan moved off, the vicar-general
of Metzovo in the van with his vicarial
hat in a tin box flapping against his
steed's hind-quarters. The road is deadly
long and tedious, twelve hours on horse-
back and all at the walk. It is a real
smuggler's track. Twenty times you have
to cross torrents with water girth-high,
and of Ali Pasha's paved road nothing is
133
The Sorrows of Epirus
left except a rocky skeleton, of which the
rain has denuded the jags, much as dogs
expose the vertebrae of a corpse. With-
out the excellent Costa we should never
have kept to the track. It seemed a
disgrace that the chief route of communi-
cation between Thessaly and Epirus
should have been left by the Turks in
such a condition. It is true that their
opposition to its repair was dictated by
a deliberate policy, the more effective
separation of the Thessalian Greeks from
their brothers in Epirus. However, that
did not stop the Greek force from Kala-
baka from advancing along this line and
coming in sight of the lake of Yanina,
where its eager progress was stopped by
the bloody combat of Drysko.
We reached Metzovo at nightfall. Some
notables were waiting for us at the entry
to the town, and it appeared that all the
afternoon the school-children had stood on
the road with flowers and the French flag.
The house where I was entertained soon
134
Yanina to Metzovo
became the seat of an imposing gathering.
A Httle girl in blue, whose first name was
Angelica, offered me a bunch of daffodils,
a second in white, called Antigone, pre-
sented the jam and the water, while a
young Calypso, entirely clad in red,
handed me cigarettes. As I smoked, I
chatted with my hosts, many of whom
spoke good French, in particular a school-
mistress who had spent two years in Paris
with her brother, a medical student.
The population of Metzovo, at one time
as large as 7,500, has dwindled under
Turkish rule. Now its sons are coming
back gradually. One of them, now dead,
will never see his native soil again. I
mean, George Averof, the Greek multi-
millionaire who gave Athens her famous
stadium and gave Greece the warship
which bears his name. Though he exiled
himself, he did not forget Metzovo, and
endowed his birthplace with a splendid
school, where, the day after my arrival,
I was received to the strains of the " Mar-
135
The Sorrows of Epirus
seillaise " exceptionally well sung. After
it, a young master read an address ending
in the following tribute to France :
" To instruct the children in our school
in the love of their friend and protectress,
France, whose shield has always been
over us ; to teach them gratitude for the
benefits and services offered by you to
our mother, Greece : this is our bounden
duty."
This focus of the national spirit, the
gift of George Averof, was established
through an intermediary appointed to
evade the interfering strictness of the
Turkish administration.
Metzovo is a small town with a muni-
cipal fortune of £100,000, all given by its
sons who have grown rich in foreign
countries and invested at the National
Bank of Athens for the duration of Turkish
rule. Now that the yoke is shaken off,
Metzovo will soon have this money at
its disposal, and her citizens enjoy making
fine plans for the future. " Here," they
136
Yanina to Metzovo
say, " will be Liberty Square ; there, the
public garden with shady retreats for
the summer. We shall continue the high
road and carry it over the Zagoria chain.
When you come back, you won't recognize
Metzovo." There is something touching
in these gifts. For years past they have
been coming in from lovers of their
country, most of whom are now dead,
and who have never doubted that at last
their sons or their grandsons would hear
the hour of freedom strike. Such cases
are common in Epirus, but Metzovo
affords the most perfect example.
The town offered another interest to
entertain my curiosity. Should I dis-
cover at last those much talked-of Kutzo-
Vlachs, traces of whom I had sought in
vain everywhere that their existence was
reported ?
The first Kutzo-Vlach whom I had met
was my own Costa, excellent fellow. As
we passed by Vutonosi and the villagers
across the river fired salvos in our honour,
137
The Sorrows of Epirus
Costa borrowed the rifle from the gen-
darme who escorted us and emptied the
magazine into the air, shouting '' Zito
Hellada." Except for his Greco- Vlach
patois, I should never have guessed that
he was in any way different from his
Epirote companions. I questioned the
schoolmistress and the schoolmaster at
Metzovo on this subject. " I have 250
pupils," said the former. " We have 200
boys," said the latter. " The children
of Kutzo- Vlach origin and the pure
Greeks are absolutely indistinguishable.
There is no Kutzo- Vlach school; no one
has ever even dreamt of the possibility
of establishing one, for in all the town
we have never known more than three
persons who professed Kutzo- Vlach na-
tionality. What is more, they were three
brothers returned from Rumania, whither
they had been attracted by university
scholarships. So little confidence has in-
spired their propaganda that it has not
got beyond the most rudimentary stage.
138
Yanina to Metzovo
We only speak of these three isolated
persons because you put the question.
Otherwise, we should never have thought
it incumbent on us to mention them.
Besides, what is the meaning of this
Rumanian propaganda, only a couple of
paces from the Greek frontier, in the
country of George Averof ? "
And I could not but agree with them,
as I quitted Metzovo, saluted in Greek
by gay shouts of " Hora Kale " ('' Good
luck ") from the whole populace, among
whom I was absolutely unable to dis-
tinguish Greek from Kutzo-Vlach. And
as I set out towards the pass of Zigo,
among the pines of Mount Pindus, and
descended again to the valleys of Thessaly,
I felt that during the whole journey
from Santi Quaranta to Kalabaka I had
never been anywhere but in Greece.
139
TO THE PLAIN OF THESSALY
Kalabaka, May 2Mh,
CEVEN-THIRTY P.M. The Khan of
"^ Trypa. For the last five hours we
had followed the downward course of
the Malakassi river under pouring rain.
The Khan had a deserted air, and it
required the shouts of our muleteers to
make two heads pop out of a low door.
" Get some wood and light a fire. The
gentlemen are cold," ordered the leader
of the caravan. We climbed up a creaking
stair to a kind of attic which was to be
our lodging, and not a very inviting one.
The walls were badly whitewashed, and
in the ceiling and floor we suspected
legions of bugs. At last a fire gleamed on
the hearth, and we began to dry our things
systematically, next sprinkling with
140
To the Plain of Thessaly
Keating's the mat and sheep-skin on
which we were to sleep. Two pots of
jam, half a loaf of bread and the dregs of
a bottle of Macedonian muscatel were
our meal, and it was soon over. From
below came the murmur of voices. All
very much in the style of Paul Louis
Courier, this forced halt at a villainous
inn in a deserted valley.
4.30 a.m. It was not hard to wake up.
Dawn was beginning to break, and the
cold of early morning penetrated the
cracks of the wooden windows. Besides,
other insects — horrible little monsters,
against which Keating's was ineffective —
had begun to attack us. There was
nothing to do but get out of the poverty-
stricken place, where, no doubt, we shall
be the last European guests, since work
is already actively going on on the road
along the other side of the valley. It is
a fine carriageable road, which will join
the railway terminus at Kalabaka to
Metzovo across the Zagoria chain. The
141
The Sorrows of Epirus
sheep-skin on which I had slept so badly
was put back on the pack saddle of my
mule, and we resumed our way beneath
a fine rain fresh with all the freshness of
morning. At this time of day the valley
is delightful. From the bushes comes
the odour of damp verdure, and under
the tall plane groves sound at intervals
the voices of the cuckoo and the " shep-
herd bird." One of our muleteers told
us a folk-story of this last bird.
" Once upon a time there was a shepherd
who went to sleep and slept three days
and three nights. When he woke up,
his flock had vanished. He sought it
in vain over the mountains. Then the
wolves came and said, ' We know where
your flock is. Promise to let us take a
few lambs, and we will tell you where
to look.' The shepherd promised. But
when he came to his flock, his dog re-
proached him for making so horrible a
bargain, and, as a punishment, left him.
The wolves came to claim their due, and
142
To the Plain of Thessaly
the shepherd whistled to his dog to help
him in defending the lambs. But the
dog never came back, and, ever since, the
shepherd, turned into a bird, whistles
without ceasing for his dog. Listen ; that
is exactly how the shepherds about here
call their dogs."
Listening to this story and the song
of the bird, I recalled another delightful
piece of Epirote folk-lore which I had
come across in connection with the
nightingale. The nightingale one spring
found a thick bush in which to pass the
night. But when he awoke, the flowers
had opened and he was a prisoner in the
bush. Ever since then the nightingale
distrusts bushes, and sings all night so
that he may not yield to temptation.
As we approached a little grove of
planes, we heard a regular concert of
childish voices. It was not an open-air
school, as my companion supposed, but
a caravan of shepherds with their families
and household goods on their way to the
143
The Sorrows of Epirus
hills, the old Turkish territory where,
before the war of liberation a few months
ago, no one ventured to go. The scene
would have tempted an artist. In front
went some mares and their foals ; then the
pack animals piled up with pyramids of
objects of all shapes and sizes, from the
middle of which stuck out the head of
a fat infant, whose body was invisible,
corded up in a mass of rugs. The babies
on the mules held cats or cocks in their
arms, or a couple of fowls tied together
by the feet and flapping and struggling
till they looked like a Valkyrie helmet
come to life on the child's head. Women
with bare feet carried long wooden
cradles with tiny babies inside, and drew
the thread off their distaffs as they walked
along. The men shouted, " Shu, shu,
shu," to urge on their beasts, and two
large dogs, with powerful jaws and grey
and white coats, trotted beside the caravan
and stopped beside a torrent for fear of
wetting their paws.
144
To the Plain of Thessaly
As we descended the valley towards
the great plain of Thessaly, it offered
more and more signs of the nearness of
civilization. Cornfields became frequent,
and flocks and herds abounded. Beside
the path, in little niches in the rock, were
icons, honeycombed by the weather, which
await the passer-by, who crosses himself
and drops his alms in a little money-box
under the common protection of all
travellers.
At the Khan of the " Fair Fountain,"
the hostess began to bring out all her
crockery, big glasses for the fresh water
of her spring, little glasses for mastikha,
and tiny cups for coffee. The rain had
stopped. On the bastions of Pindus,
long fleecy wreaths of morning vapour
slowly rose, displaying in sudden glimpses
the sloping summits covered by snow
during the night.
145 10
THE METEORA
A BOUT two hours before reaching
-^^- Kalabaka, the Meteora rocks be-
came visible. These summits, with tops
hke the Dreizinnen as seen from Misurina,
are the guardians of the plain, standing
at the end of the mountainous valley.
There is some presumption in pretending
to discover the Meteora, one of the
curiosities, even one of the wonders of
the world. But surely it is the heritage
of successive generations to discover again
with indefatigable perseverance every-
thing that has been extolled by their
predecessors. Some dreadful cataclysm
of prehistoric days must have poured
an irresistible torrent on to this mountain
mass to wash away all the soil and leave
146
The Meteora
bare its rocky sub-structure. At the
present day, the Meteora are formidable
cliffs with vertical walls, honeycombed as
though to give a lodging to gulls and sea-
mews. On top of these natural towers,
apparently inaccessible though they are,
dwellings have been constructed by
the indomitability of mankind. If they
were feudal castles instead of humble
monasteries, they might be the realization
of Victor Hugo's vivid phantasies or
certain amazing pictures by Gustave Dore.
Two villages squat at their feet, Kastraki
and Kalabaka. Above the former, stands
sentinel a giant who, from a distance,
recalls one or other of the twin colossi of
Memnon. In it one recognizes, twenty
times enlarged, the knees of the god whom
ancient Egypt set in the Nile valley to
inspire an immense and awful reverence
in those whose way led them to the
tombs of the kings.
The little houses of Kalabaka lie among
gigantic boulders, like an incrustation of
147 10*
The Sorrows of Epirus
shells upon an ocean reef, and one wants
the sure foot of an expert Alpine climber
to ascend to the old cathedral of the
Emperor Andronicus Palaeologus, and
from it to the col, which gives access to
the Meteora. " Gives access " is, perhaps,
hardly the phrase, since to reach them
one must still undergo either the test of
the ladder or that of the net. The
ladders are for the most part practically
vertical. They require a head that knows
not dizziness, an unquestioning faith in
their solidity, and the fist of a sailor.
The net demands an ingenuous confidence
in the rope by which it is hauled up.
The shouts of the native who accom-
panied us finally brought an answer from
the monks of Agia Triadha, and soon,
from the wooden balcony which overhung
the gulf, I saw descend a large cord net,
like those which marketers fill with
vegetables. It was hung on a huge iron
hook at the end of a rope, and on reaching
the earth was opened to admit me seated
148
The Meteora
cross-legged. The loops were drawn to-
gether above my head, passed over the
hook, and — " Haul away " — my ascent
began. For the first minute it is better
to close one's eyes, because the net spins
like a top, a movement which is extremely
unpleasant. Afterwards it is better to
open one's eyes, because, as it swings,
the net comes from time to time
into somewhat rude contact with the
rocky wall. Chance brought me to the
top back foremost. I felt hands grip
the net and draw it inside. Someone
gave an order, the rope was slackened,
and I found myself sitting on the ground
with five monks standing round, who
welcomed me as I emerged from the net.
A powerful winch had been responsible
for my gradual elevation.
Arriving at the '' Holy Trinity," I felt
the illusion that I was calling on a little
congregation of Simeon Stylites, all under
vow after admission to the monastery
never again to descend among human
149
The Sorrows of Epirus
frailties. This illusion took wings at my
first question. The monks of " Holy
Trinity," like those of Barlaam and
St. Stephen, are often in Kalabaka.
Some of them have only thought it
incumbent to show loyalty to their re-
ligious refuge by being buried there. I
was shown a large crack in the rock where
a few mountain plants had managed to
take root, and where some bits of wood
marked the last resting-place of these
monks.
Among the living who received me, I
found no trace of any poetic sentiment
responding to the wonderful situation of
this monastery. In any case, the lower
Orthodox clergy is recruited from so
inferior a class that anything else must
have surprised me. They are old ser-
vants, old gendarmes, who feel some fine
day filled with a vocation for the con-
templative life. I should have wished to
find there a little community of thinkers,
of the disillusioned, who had lost every-
150
The Meteora
thing but the taste for their fraternal
soHtude and who would sit at twilight on
this summit which towers over the valley
to see one more day die away over the
earth.
Perhaps in the case of these monasteries,
as with so many of the things of this
world, it is better to be satisfied with
looking at them from below.
151
THE CORFU CHANNEL
Athens, May 2Sth.
/^N arriving at Athens I got at last
^^ some French newspapers, of which
I have been deprived for the last three
weeks. By reading them I have been
brought to revert to certain points which
I have only partially touched upon in my
letters and telegrams, considering them too
obvious to give rise to serious difference
of opinion.
In the Temps of May 18th our corre-
spondent at Rome summarized the views
of an Italian political personage, one of
those best able to inform him on the
attitude of Italian official circles towards
the question of the Corfu channel. This
gentleman is made to say : " The con-
figuration of the channel between Corfu
152
The Corfu Channel
and the mainland makes it the most
magnificent sheltered anchorage in the
Mediterranean . ' '
Now chance has put me in a position
to prove the contrary. On May 7th last,
a storm broke over the Ionian sea. Not
only was no vessel able to leave Corfu
to risk the passage through the northern
strait, but in the harbour of Corfu itself,
the safest place in all this magnificent
sheltered roadstead, the picket-boats of
the English cruiser Medea could not leave
the ship, nor could those which were at
the quay return. So much for the safety
of the anchorage.
As to the northern strait, through which
I have passed in each direction, every
sailor knows that about a mile from the
coast of Corfu it is barred by a series of
reefs, upon which stands a lighthouse.
The passage between these reefs and the
island is only practicable for vessels of
shallow draught. The larger vessels, in-
cluding the Austrian " Lloyd," must hug
^53
The Sorrows of Epirus
the coast of Epirus. The geographical
configuration of the strait thus makes the
passage so narrow and dangerous that to
be master of it there is no necessity to
hold the coast of Epirus and build forti-
fications upon it. Mines in the channel
would forbid both entrance and egress.
Unless Italy asks to be entrusted with
the construction, on behalf of Albania, of
forts upon the coast which she claims for
that kingdom, it is hard to imagine a
principality, offspring of the will of the
six great Powers and under their joint
protection, taking such a resolution, of
which the only object would be to confer
upon one group of these protecting Powers
a strategic advantage as against the other.
Reason, then, would leave the Epirote
coast in the latitude of the northern
strait as it is at present. If it becomes
Albanian, it is impossible to allow fortifi-
cations obviously directed against certain
great Powers ; whereas, if it becomes Greek,
Greece is committed in advance to an
154
The Corfu Channel
undertaking to neutraHze the whole
zone.
To follow this train of argument further,
the naval interests of Italy lie rather in
accepting Greece's two proposals :
(1) The neutralization of the coastal
zone and the Corfu channel ;
(2) The subjection of its neutral charac-
ter to international control.
This safeguards Italy better than any
insistence upon the mere territorial exten-
sion of Albania towards the south, where it
would be impossible to construct a chain
of defensive fortifications, the establish-
ment of which would profit not universal
peace, nor the balance of power, but one
group of Powers against the other.
Besides, since international treaties have
dismantled Corfu and forbidden all mili-
tary works there, it would be an impossible
breach of reciprocity to let the island be
threatened by Albanian guns. There-
fore, in a military sense, this coast can
only remain in statu quo. Whether poli-
155
The Sorrows of Epirus
tically it be Greek or Albanian makes no
difference to the laying of mines by
warships in the northern strait, and it
will take more than a few snipers hidden
among the brushwood of this precipitous
coast to prevent the passage of battle-
ships and torpedo craft of any nation.
Neutralization under international control,
as with the navigation of the Danube,
offers Italy a far more effective guarantee
than the mere word " Albania " printed
across a map.
Moreover, as I said at the beginning,
the Corfu channel is the most insecure
shelter that a fleet could choose. When
England ceded Corfu to Greece in 1863,
surely the Admiralty which has a certain
reputation would have advised against
the gift if it had possessed strategic value.
The Italian memorandum on the stra-
tegic importance of the Corfu channel
goes so far as to call as evidence Queen
Teuta of Illyria, who used Corfu as the
base of her operations in 230 B.C. There
156
The Corfu Channel
must indeed be a shortage of arguments if
it is necessary to go back to the days of
galleys, or even of Napoleon's three-
deckers ! After all, the speed of dread-
noughts and high-sea torpedo craft does
involve some modification of naval stra-
tegy, and looking at this same map of the
Ionian Sea which our Rome correspon-
dent's informant showed him, we see only
a few hours' steaming further from the
channel of Otranto such anchorages as
those of Argostoli (Cephalonia) and
Astakos (Acarnania), in which the British
Mediterranean squadron constantly ap-
pears, though it never manoeuvres in the
Corfu channel.
Greek statesmen cannot forget that
only after Italy had declared the bay and
town of Valona alone to concern her, did
she raise the question of the Corfu channel,
the importance of which could be no
sudden discovery if it has been obvious
since the days of Queen Teuta.
It is impossible for them to avoid the
157
The Sorrows of Epirus
suspicion that, in spite of all assertions
to the contrary and all protestations that
the question of the Corfu channel involves
no territorial interests, it has only been
invented as a last resource, disguised
behind a bewildering mask of high naval
problems, to secure the aggrandizement
of the principality of Albania, which thus
remaining " nobody's child " might one
day, so far as the southern part is con-
cerned, be adopted by Italy.
The Greeks ask how, if Italy really has
at heart the happiness of the races who
inhabit Epirus, she can refuse them the
free choice of the nationality to which
they will belong in order to impose on
them a Swiss cantonal system. Switzer-
land can maintain the confederation as a
living thing owing to the unity of thought
and idea which pervades it and to the
ripe wisdom shown by its governments
through centuries of experience. In Al-
bania, which is characterized by a tradi-
tion of rebellion against authority, and
158
The Corfu Channel
whose component races regard each other
with a deadly hatred, no Federal Council
could establish even the ghost of adminis-
trative authority. To attempt it would be
to attempt the impossible, seeing that the
Greek population of Epirus has received
the Greek Army with enthusiasm, that
many of its sons enlisted in it as their
liberator, and that all the demonstrations
which I witnessed had for their leitmotif
" Long live our King, Constantine ! Union
or Death." One need only cross Epirus
to realize that these people mean what
they say.
I have traversed the whole of this
country, which the imperialist dreams of
Italy wish to separate from Greece, to
which everything binds her — language,
tradition, religion, education, and even
centuries of martyrdom for their country's
sake. As I leave to return to France,
after listening to the story of so much
suffering, after seeing before my eyes the
strength of a patriotism which nothing
159
The Sorrows of Epirus
has ever discouraged, I understand the
boy who, on the morning of the surrender
of Bisani, as the first Evzoni appeared at
St. John's, ran to the cemetery and, as
he fired his revolver above his father's
grave — the father whose legacy had been
the hope of a freedom which he himself
had not lived to see — cried aloud : " Father,
Father, the Greeks have come ! "
The End
Printed at The Chapel River Press, Kingston, Surrey.
Paternoster House,
Paternoster Row,
London, E.C.
January, 1918.
Messrs. HURST U BLACKETT'S
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A NEW (the Seventh) EDITION of
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A detailed account of the fighting from Mons to Ypres,
By LORD ERNEST HAMILTON (late Captain 11th Hussars).
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Second Edition, cr. Svo cloth, 38. 6d. net.
The last message of a writer whose place will not easily be filled."
7
NE¥Sr e/- Nel NO¥ELS
By OOLF WYLLARDE
The Pathetic Snobs
By the author of *'Mafoota," "As ye Have Sown/' etc.
A very human story and with the reading qualities which
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country neighbourhood in Wessex. There is a fascinating young
soldier and a correctly-brought-up country girl who elope, regard-
less of parental opposition and with consequences which the book
will reveal. There are good and bad people, all treated with the
author's pronounced power of characterization and the close intearest
of the reader is sustained throughout.
By LORD FREDERIC HAMILTON
Lady Eleanor, Private
Simmonds and others
The scene of action is County Derry in War time, and a charm-
ing Irish girl is the heroine whose lover is at the front. There is a
traitor of Jew lineage who is trying to marry her and a spendthrift
father who wants to sell her. There is also Lady Eleanor, a
delightful character, and the prime mover in much that occurs ;
and, above all, there is Private Simmonds, a feather-weight boxer
and poacher of the first order, who is an absolute creation. Never,
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time, is there a dull moment. The book sparkles with wit, brilliant
dialogue and the most amusing incidents, An ideal book for tired
nerves.
By RACHEL SWETE MACNAMARA
Lark's Gate
By the Author of '< The Fringe of the Desert."
This story touches on problems which are giving rise
to much serious thought at the present time — of sex, mother-
hood and morality. It is a romance of j'-oung, impulsive
love, and an after tragedy which, in turn, is followed by a
happy prospect. An innocent, ardent, well-bred and refined
girl and a young farmer fall passionately in love and elope,
with the intention of getting married. The marriage is
frustrated, but a boy is born to them, and the mother is led
to believe that the child is dead. Later, she marries, and
when in Egypt meets her lover to discover that they had been
kept apart by their friends. This situation is devdoped b}'
the author in a most engrossing story.
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Scandal
By the Author of " The Blindness of Virtue," etc.
Mr. Cosmo Hamilton has never written a more absorbing and original
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millionaire and she has been brought up in the artificial atmosphere of
plutocracy. Though a beautiful young girl with many winning qualities she
has been thoroughly spoilt and with her the elemental passions of love, sympathy
and charity have been supplanted by selfishness and an utter disregard for the
feelings of others. Scandal is the result of her recklessness and unconventional
habits. It is given to a young man, also rich and hardened in selfishness to
bring her to her senses.
By THE COUNTESS BARCYNSKA
Love Maggy
By the Author of **The Honey Pot," "If Wishes were Horses," etc.
The many thousands of readers of ' ' The Honey Pot " will be glad to hear
more of Maggy of the tender heart, the dehghtful heroine of that book, who
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the same beautiful sympathy and understanding which were so remarkable a
feature in her description of Maggy's earlier days. But the book will make its
own strong appeal to readers who have not yet become acquainted with this
unique character in fiction.
By MARGARET PETERSON
Love's Burden
By the Author of " To Love," *' Butterfly Wings," etc.
Margot goes out to India and there meets a man whom she marries
partly because he persuades her that she is necessary for his salvation and
partly because she thinks that in doing so she provides for the happiness of
another man with whom she is really in love. Marriage laid on such founda-
tions is hardly likely to prove a success, but Margot wins through to happiness
in the end. One of the ideas behind the novel is that unselfishness even when
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one of our leading papers, speaking of her last Indian novel, " bids fair to be
the Rider Haggard of the Native State. "
9
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The Long Lane's Turning
By the Author of " Hearts Courageous," etc.
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nobility ; but not until he had made a stem fight and been
severely punished through the actions of enemies who were
able to turn his weakness to account. In these hectic days
of war this novel will prove a mental tonic which will stir the
most jaded spirit to enthusiasm. It involves such a curious
entanglement in human affairs, is so full of action, so charged
with excitement, so forceful and of such intense interest, that
hearts will beat fast in sympathy with the people who live
in its pages.
By BEATRICE BASKERVILLE
Love and Sacrifice
A NovaI of Poland during the War
By the Author of "Baldwin's Kingdom.*' etc.
An illuminating and absorbing story of the War in Poland when
Prussian and Russian were fighting there in the earlier days of the War.
A large country house with its big estates and many dependants is the
centre of action, and the scenes depicted are remarkable in their vividness.
There is an uncommon love interest running through the story, and English
readers will realise what the War has meant to some of the noble class in
a country of which at present they know so little.
By FERGUS HUME
Heart of Ice
By the Author of " The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," etc.
A very pleasing novel which is sure to be popular at the present
moment. The dialogue is particularly bright and effective, the love-
story exceptionally interesting, and the central character, a dancer wh©
influences her various lovers for their good, an admirable heroine.
Just Heady.
By ARABELLA KENEALY
Woman's Great Adventure
By the Author of '* The Way of a Lover," etc.
The beautiful Stella, compromised through no fault of her own, is obliged
o marry to save her reputation. The story of her maternal experiences is told
with great sympathy and delicacy, yet with all the force and passion associated
with the work of this clever writer.
10
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IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT.
To be published la tbe Early Autuma.
By AMELIE RIVES (Princess Troubetzkoy)
The Elusive Lady
By the Author of ''World's End" (84th thousand).
The story is a most extraordinary one, in which a
mysterious influence involves the hves of the two principal
characters, who are saved only by a woman's love proving
stronger than death. For imagination, power and beauty
of style, this new novel by the author of the very popular
novel " World's End " would be hard to beat. A deep
interest aroused at the very beginning grows into a tense
suspense before the end is reached.
A companion volume to " WHERE THE STRANQE ROADS GO DOWS. "
A CHEAP EDITION, at 2S. 6d. net, of
GERTRUDE PAGE'S
VERY POPULAR RHODESIAN NOVEL
Follow After
Crown Svo, with good selling picture wrapper in colours
In this novel the two leading characters of the author's
great novel, " Where the Strange Roads Go Down,"
reappear, and their story is brought to a conclusion. The
heroine " Joe " has proved to be the most attractive of
all the author's delightful characters. The 2s. 6d. edition
of " Where the Strange Roads Go Down " has been an
immense success, and every purchaser of it will want this
new companion volume.
The Edition now ready of the Author's
Where the Strange
Roads Go Down
Crown Svo, with picture wrapper, 2s, 6, 3S. 6d.
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JILL'S RHODESIAN PHILOSOPHY
In crown 8w, clotk gilfy with the Author's portrait, 2s« 6cl. net.
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the teUing which fa^nates the reader, and holds the attention from first to last."—
12
RECENT SUCCESSFUL e/- NOVELS
STILL IN GREAT DEMAND
NOBODY'S ISLAND By Beatrice Crimsh&w
"A most captivating tale, full of action and colour." — FuAi.
" In the South Seas the story glows and burns in the atmosphere whkk
Beatrice Grimsbaw has made her o-ati. One of the best romances Mix
Grimshaw has yet written. " — Country Lije.
THE GOLDEN TRIANGLE
Aa Arsene Lupin Story By MdtJfiCe \a MdaC
"Exciting and cleverly constructed," — A:h
illustrates the author's sure power and her artistic skill" — G/ojgvte Htratd.
»3
Hurst S Blackctt's 1/6 net Novd
SERIES.
Each with attractive pictorial wrapper in colours.
NEW VOLUMES AND RE-ISSUES.
The Publishers have been compelled,
owingr to continually increasing costs of
production, to raise the price of this
Series from 1/3 to 1/6 net.
SHADOWS OF FLAMES By Amelie Rives ('"^^'i^uko,)
PAN'S MOUNTAIN By Amelie Rives (''"?:rA..xko,>
ANNETTE OF THE ARGONNE By William Le Queux
THE DEVIL'S CARNIVAL By William Le Queux
SPIES OF THE KAISER By William Le Queux
WON BY WAITING By Edna Lyall
IN THE GOLDEN DAYS By Edna Lyall
BEHOLD AND SEE I By Lilith Hope
THE YOUNGEST MISS MOWBRAY By Mrs. B. M. Croker
THE SPLENDID FRIEND By Effie Adelaide Rowlands
THE TURNSTILE OF NIGHT By Mrs. C. N. Williamson
And tmiform with the above,
THE LIFE-STOSY OF THE
EX-CROWN PRINCESS OF SAXONY By Wm. Le Queux
In crown Svo, paper pictorial cover V6 net
POPPY : The Story of a South African Girl By Cynthia Stocklcy
200th Thousand.
14
Hurst S Blacktt's 1/6 net Novel
SERIES
Volumes already issued, fornteriy
113 net, now raised to fl6 net.
Each with pictorial wrapper in colours.
WE TWO By Edn& Lysll
DONOVAN By Edna Lyall
RED BOB OF THE ISLANDS By Beatrice Grimshaw
THE MAN FROM DOWNING STREET By Wm. Le Queux
THE HONEY POT By Countess Barcytiska
SECRETS OF THE FOREIGN OFFICE By Wm. Le Queux
THE HOUSE OF THE WICKED By Wm. Le Queux
WORLD'S END By Amelie Rives ('•"¥":b.,zko,*
TO LOVE By Margaret Peterson
BUTTERFLY WINGS By Margaret Peterson
THE TEETH OF THE TIGER By Maurice Le Blanc
Uniform with the above,
RASPUTIN. THE RASCAL MONK By Wm. Le Queux
Also in crown 8vo, pictorial Paper cover, Is. 6d. net,
THE CLAW By Cynthia Stockley
MAFOOTA By Doif Wyliarie
'5
Hurst & Blackett's 6d. Novels
War Price, 9cl,
In attractive picture covers in colours.
The follewingr is a list of the few titles still available. They
should be ordered at once, as it is impossible to reprint
6d. Novels under present conditions.
IN THE GOLDEN DAYS By Edna Lyall
WON BY WAITING By Edna Lyall
FREEDOM By Alice and Claude Askew
THE WHITE HOUSE By M. E. Braddon
EUGENE VIDOCQ By Dick Donovan
LOVERS OF MADEMOISELLE By Clive Holland
THE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW By E. W. Savi
HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER
By Judge McDonnell Bodkin
A MODERN WITCH By Effie Adelaide Rowlands
THE HOUSE OF INTRIGUE By Percy White
COLONEL DAVERON By P rcy White
SABA MACDONALD By ' Rita *
COUNTESS DAPHNE By " Rita *
THE MAN WITH THE BLACK FEATHER
By Gaston Leroux
BALAOO By Gaston Leroux
CALLING THE TUNE By Justin H. McCarthy
THE OTLYNN By Justin H. McCarthy
THE KING OVER THE WATER
By Justin H. McCarthy
THE GOD OF LOVE By Justin H. McCarthy
THE WORLD OF CRIME By M. F. Goron
THE RIVER OF DREAMS By William Westrup
A TIME OF TERROR
By the Author of " The Devil's Peepshow '*
Lod4oo: Hnrst & Blackett^ Ltd., Paternoster Hons^ E.C.
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE
STAMPED BELOW
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THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY
WILL INCREASE TO 50 CENTS ON THE FOURTH
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OVERDUE.
MAR lAigas
M
29 1935
Mar'65J D
REC'D LP
MAfi22'65-5pM
U. C. BERKELEY
IBRARIES
CDS13717bS
* ■ : : '-i
UNIVERSITY OF CAUFORNIA LIBRARY