The very locality we were traversing is the part where the salt-smugglers used to carry on their trade, and many a sharp encounter has been fought here between them and the soldiers. This is now a thing of the past, since Roumania has also introduced a salt monopoly.

We were treated to this glorious view for little more than half an hour; the clouds then enveloped us again, and blotted out that fair world, with all its brightness, as if it were not. A strong wind blew up from the north, bringing with it a storm of rain and sleet which chilled us to the bones. The horses went slower and slower. Including the noonday halt, we had been ten hours in the saddle, and men and horses had had pretty well enough. I never recollect a colder ride.

We encamped that night in the forest. I looked out for another rock oven, and found one not otherwise unsuitable for shelter; but unfortunately this time the opening was to the windward side, so it was useless for our purpose. It was a good thing F---- did not have a return of his fever here, for we had to pa.s.s the night very indifferently.

The next morning the weather continued so persistently bad in the mountains that we voted the "hunt" at an end, and made the best of our way towards Mehadia, from which place we were in fact not so very distant. The descent was very rapid; at first through a thick forest, then into the open valley, where the heat became intense. The change of temperature was very striking.

CHAPTER XII.

Back at Mehadia--Troubles about a carriage--An unexpected night on the road--Return to Karansebes--On horseback through the Iron Gate Pa.s.s--Varhely, the ancient capital of Dacia--Roman remains--Beauty of the Hatszeg Valley.

After a week of such weather as we had had in the mountains, a water-tight roof over one's head was in itself a luxury; so we were not inclined to quarrel with our quarters at the hotel at Mehadia, had they been even less good than they were.

F---- and I wished the next day to get back to Karansebes; he had left his carriage, and I my Servian horse. A Hungarian gentleman, one of the late expedition, said he would arrange to have a _vorspann_, if we would join him, as he also wanted to go there. This well-understood plan insures to the traveller relays of horses, and we were only too glad to acquiesce in the prospect of making the journey pleasantly and quickly.

The driver who was to take us the first stage came in and asked for a florin to get some oats for his horses. Very foolishly I gave him the money, nothing doubting; and off he went to spend it on _slivovitz_, the result being that he was soon drunk and incapable. If we had realised the fact at once it might have been better, but we waited and waited, not knowing for a long time what had happened. This upset all our _vorspann_ arrangements, and to our great disgust the best part of the day was wasted in seeking another vehicle and horses to take us to Karansebes. At last we succeeded in obtaining a lumbering sort of covered conveyance, whose speed we doubted from the first; but the owner, who was to drive us, declared he would get us to our journey's end in an incredibly short s.p.a.ce of time.

We took care to give no _pourboire_ in advance; but what with the inevitable dilatoriness of the people down in these parts, it was after seven o'clock before we left the Hercules-Bad, and we had fifty miles to drive.

Not even the ten hours of undisturbed consecutive repose in the downy bed at the Mehadia hotel had made up the deficiency of sleep during the foregoing week, and drowsiness overcame us. I think we must have had a couple of hours of monotonous jog-trot on the fairly level road when I fell asleep, and I suppose my companions did the same.

I must have slept long and profoundly, for when I woke, pulling myself together with some difficulty, having slept in the form of a doubled-up zigzag, I found it was daylight. I was surprised that we were not moving; I rubbed my eyes, and looked out at the back of the cart, and there I saw a round tower on a slight eminence, encircled by a belt of fir-wood, the very counterpart of a pretty bit of scenery I had noticed in the twilight. I looked again, and sure enough it was just the tower itself and no other, and the very same belt of wood. The explanation was not far to seek. I was the first to wake up in our "fast coach." Every mortal soul--and there were five of us, besides the four horses--had, it seems, gone to sleep much about the same time that I did. The magic sleep of eld must have fallen upon us. The simple fact was, we had pa.s.sed the night in the middle of the highroad. Was there ever anything so ridiculous?

We were about seven miles from Mehadia; I knew the country perfectly well. Of course we made a confounded row with the idiot of a driver, who certainly had been hired--not to go to sleep. I have known these Wallacks drive for miles in a state of somnolency, the horses generally keeping in the "safe middle course" of their own accord. As there were some awkward turns not far ahead of us, it was perhaps just as well that the horses stopped on this occasion.

Well, we jogged on all that day, reaching Karansebes between one and two o'clock. We had been some eighteen hours on the road!

Here F---- and I parted, my friend returning to Uibanya, while I pursued my way to Transylvania.

I slept the night at Karansebes, rising very early; indeed I started soon after four o'clock. I was again on my little Servian horse, who was quite fresh after his long rest, and I saw no reason why I should not reach Hatszeg the same evening, as the distance is not more than forty-five miles. About two miles from Karansebes I pa.s.sed a hill crowned with a picturesque ruin, locally called Ovid's Tower. Tradition fondly believes that Ovid spent the last years of his banishment, not on the sh.o.r.es of the stormy Euxine, but in the tranquillity of these lovely valleys. Certain it is that the name and fame of many of the great Romans are still known to the Wallacks; and the story is told by Mr b.o.n.e.r, that they have a catechism which teaches the children to say that they have Ovid and Virgil for their ancestors, and that they are descended from demiG.o.ds!

On my way I pa.s.sed the villages of Ohaba, Marga, and Bukova. On arriving at Varhely, or Gradischtie, as it is called in Wallack language, I found that it was worth while to stay the night, for the sake of having the afternoon to examine the Roman remains scattered about the neighbourhood.

The Wallack villages I had pa.s.sed through were very miserable-looking places: they are generally in the south of Transylvania. The houses are mostly mere wattled wigwams, without chimneys; a patch of garden, rudely hurdled in, with the addition of a high stockaded enclosure for cattle.

Some of the women are extremely pretty, and, as I have said before, the costume can be very picturesque; but they are often seen extremely dirty, in which case the filthy fringe garment gives them the appearance of savages.

Varhely is conspicuous for its dirt even among Wallachian villages, yet once it was a royal town. It is built on the site of the famous Sarmisegethusa, the capital of ancient Dacia. In Trajan's second expedition against Decebalus, King of the Dacians, he came from Orsova on the Danube by the same route that forms the highroad of this day--the same I had traversed in my way hither. It is curious to reflect how nation succeeding nation tread in each other's footsteps, through the self-same valley, beneath the shadow of the old hills. Here they have trudged, old Dacian gold-seekers, returning from the daily labours of washing the auriferous sands of the mountain streams; here, too, have tramped victorious Roman soldiers--Avars, Tartars, Turks, and other intruders. A long and motley cavalcade has history marshalled along this route for two thousand years and more!

The old Dacians were strong enough we know to exact a yearly tribute from Domitian: it was for this insult that Trajan marched upon Dacia, defeating Decebalus at Klausenburg, in the heart of Transylvania, which was at the time their greatest strong-hold. It was after this that the Dacian king retreated upon Sarmisegethusa, and there Trajan came down upon them through the Iron Gate Pa.s.s. Unable to defend themselves, the Dacians set fire to their royal city and fled to the mountains. On these ruins the Romans, ever ready to appropriate a good site, erected the city of Ulpia Trajana, connecting it by good roads with the existing Roman colonies at Karlsburg and Klausenburg.

Unless the traveller had brought historic facts with him to Gradischtie, he would hardly be induced to search for tesselated pavements and relics of royalty amongst the piggeries of this dirty Wallack village. It is a literal fact that a very fine specimen of Roman pavement exists here in an unsavoury outhouse, not unknown to pigs and their congeners.

This Hatszeg Valley, in the county of Hunyad, has long been celebrated for the richness of its Dacian and Roman antiquities. These treasures have unfortunately been dispersed about amongst various general collections of antiquity, instead of being well kept together as ill.u.s.trative of local facts and history. The archaeologist must seek for these remains specially in the Ambras collection of the Archaeological Museum at Vienna, the National Museum at Buda Pest, in the Bruckenthal Museum at Herrmannstadt, also in the Klausenburg Museum. Dr H. Finaly, Professor of Archaeology at the University of Klausenburg, is the great living authority on this interesting subject. To him I am indebted for some information, conveyed in a letter to a private friend.[12] The professor alludes to the fact of the treasures being all carried away, adding that on the spot very little is to be found except the remains of Roman encampments (_castra stativa_), Roman military roads, together with the foundations of buildings, the materials of which however are usually carried away by the peasants. Nor are the records of former interesting discoveries to be found in one volume, but are dispersed about in the various publications of learned societies, such as the 'Archaelogiaei Kozlemenyek' of the Hungarian Academy, the 'Year-Book of the Transylvanian Museum,' and 'Verhandlungen und Mittheilungen' of the Verein fur Siebenburgische Landeskunde of Herrmannstadt.

That the materials of the old Roman buildings are now used for baser purposes, one has abundant proof; even in my hurried inspection I saw many a sculptured stone and fragment of fluted column doing duty as the support of a wretched Wallack shanty. Another evidence of the Roman occupation of the country occurs in the case of certain plants now found growing wild, which are exotic to the soil. This, I am told, occurs in a marked manner at Thorda, which was known to be a Roman colony. The plants, it may be presumed, were brought thither by the Roman legionaries. The most picturesque bit of Roman antiquity is the Temple at Demsus, within a short drive of Varhely. It is on a small eminence overlooking a cl.u.s.ter of Wallack dwellings, and has long been used as a church by these people.

The Hatszeg Valley, which comprehends the district I am now describing, is the pride of Transylvania, not less for its fertility than for its beauty. It has the appearance of having been filled in former geological ages by the waters of a widespread lake.

It was a lovely afternoon, but very hot, when I rode into the little town of Hatszeg. Everywhere is to be seen evidence of the careful cultivation of the maize and other crops. Numerous villages dot the plain and cl.u.s.ter amidst the thickly-wooded hillsides. And now we come upon the railway system again, which has stretched out its feelers into the wilds of the Southern Carpathians. The railroad enters Transylvania by two routes. The main line is from Buda-Pest to Grosswardein, and so on by Klausenburg--the Magyar capital--to the present terminus of Kronstadt, one of the chief towns of the Saxon immigrants. This includes a branch to Maros Vasarhely. It is proposed to carry this line over a pa.s.s in the Carpathians to Bucharest. The second line of railway entering Transylvania starts from Arad, and terminates at Herrmannstadt, the Saxon capital, having a branch to the mineral district of Petroseny.

It will be seen from the above that this "odd corner of Europe," as Transylvania has been called, is fairly well off for iron roads; and considering how short a time some portions of them have been opened, they have already borne good fruit in developing the resources of the country.

[Footnote 12: Martin Diosy, Esq.]

CHAPTER XIII.

Hungarian hospitality--Wallack laziness--Fishing--"Settled gipsies"--Anecdote--Old _regime_--Fire--Old Roman bath--The avifauna of Transylvania--Fly-fishing.

I had brought with me from London a letter of introduction to a Hungarian gentleman residing near Hatszeg, and finding his place was not far off, I rode over to see him the evening of my arrival.

I had merely intended to make a call, but Herr von B----, with true Hungarian hospitality, insisted that I should stay at his house as long as I remained in the neighbourhood.

"What! allow a stranger to remain at the inn?--impossible!" he said with resolute kindness.

It was in vain that I made any attempt to plead that I felt it was trespa.s.sing too much on his hospitality. His answer was very decided. He put the key of the stable which held my horse in his pocket, and turning to one of his people he gave orders that my things should be brought hither from the Hatszeg inn.

I was soon quite at home with my new friends, a young married couple, whose _menage_, though very simple, was thoroughly refined and agreeable. As it was my first visit to a Hungarian house, I found many things to interest me. Several of the dishes at table were novelties, the variety consisting more in the cooking than in the materials; for instance, we had maize dressed in a dozen different ways. It was generally eaten as a sort of pudding at breakfast, at which meal there was also an unfailing dish of water-melons. Of course we had _paprika handl_ (chicken with red pepper), and _gulyas_, a sort of improved Irish stew; and gipsy's meat, also very good, besides excellent soups and many nameless delicacies in the way of sweets.

All Hungarian men are great smokers, but as a rule the ladies do not smoke; there are some exceptions, but it is considered "fast" to do so.

The peasants in the Hatszeg Valley are all Wallacks, and as lazy a set as can well be imagined; in fact, judging by their homes, they are in a lower condition than those of the Banat. So much is laziness the normal state with these people that I think they must regard hard work as a sort of recreation. Their wants are so limited that there is no inducement to work for gain. What have they to work for beyond the necessary quant.i.ty of maize, _slivovitz_, and tobacco? Their women make nearly all the clothes. Wages of course are high--that is the trouble throughout the country. If the Wallack could be raised out of the moral swamp of his present existence he might do something, but he must first feel the need of what civilisation has to offer him.

The village of Rea, where I was staying, is about the wildest-looking place one can well imagine in Europe. The habitations of the peasants are made of reed and straw; the hay-ricks are mere slovenly heaps, partially thatched; the fences are made up of odds and ends. As for order, the whole place might have been strewn with the _debris_ of a whirlwind and not have looked worse. As a natural consequence of all this slatternly disorder, fire is no uncommon occurrence; and when a fire begins, it seldom stops till it has licked the whole place clean--a condition not attainable by any other process.

Fishing was a very favourite amus.e.m.e.nt with us, and Herr von B---- several times organised some pleasant excursions with that object. One day we went up the Lepusnik, a magnificent trout-stream.

We drove across the valley, and then followed a narrow gorge near the village of Klopotiva. The scenery was enchanting, but our fishing was only moderately successful; for the trout were very much larger than in the valley nearer home, and they bothered us sadly by carrying away our lines.

Some way up the valley we came upon a little colony of gipsies, who were settled there. Their dwellings were more primitive than the Wallacks even. The huts are formed of plaited sticks, with mud plastered into the interstices; this earth in time becomes overgrown with gra.s.s, and as the erection is only some seven feet high, it has very much the appearance of an exaggerated mound or anthill, and would never suggest a human habitation.

A fire was burning in the open, with a tripod to support the iron pot--just as we see in England in a gipsy's camp; and the people had a remarkable resemblance in complexion and feature, only that here they were far less civilised than with us.

I entered one of the huts, in which by the way I could scarcely stand upright, and found there a man employed in making a variety of simple wooden articles for household use. The gipsies are remarkably clever with their hands; many of these wooden utensils are fashioned very dexterously, and even display some taste. The gipsy, moreover, is always the best blacksmith in all the country round; and as for their music, I have before spoken of the strange power these people possess of stirring the hearts of their hearers with their pathetic strains. It has often seemed to me that this marvellous gift of music is, as it were, a language brought with them in their exile from another and a higher state of existence.

That these poor outcasts are capable of n.o.ble self-sacrifice, the story I am about to relate will testify. Not far from this very gipsy settlement, in a wild romantic glen, is a steep overhanging rock, which is known throughout the country as the "Gipsy's Rock," and came to be so called from the following tragical occurrence. It seems that many years ago--about the middle of the last century, I believe--there was a famine in the land, and the poor gipsies, poorer than all the rest, were reduced to great straits. Some of them came to the neighbouring village and begged hard for food. The selfish people turned them away, or at least tried to do so; but one poor fellow would not cease his importunities, and said that his children were literally starving.

"Then," said one of the villagers in a mocking tone, "I will give your family a side of bacon if you will jump that rock."

"You hear his promise?" cried the gipsy, appealing to the idle crowd. He said not another word, but rushing from their midst, clambered up the rock, and in another instant took the fatal leap!

I see no reason to discredit the story, generally believed as it is in the district; and, happily for the honour of human nature, it has many a parallel, in another way perhaps, but equal in self-sacrifice and devotion.