| Transcript |
54 CONSTANTINOPLE AND ITS ENVIRONS ;
THE BALKAN MOUNTAINS.
The extent of country from the Danube to the Propontis, is generally a flat plain,
with occasional irregularities of surface, divided by an immense ridge of lofty mountains, rising perpendicularly, like a stupendous wall, and dividing the level space into
two nearly equal parts. That on the south side, extending from the mountains to the
sea, was called Thrace, and, in modern times, by the Turks, Roum-Eli, or the country
of the Romans. That on the north, extending from the mountains to the river Danube,
was formerly named Mcesia, but now Bulgaria. This chain of mountains excited the
admiration of the ancients, who attributed to it an elevation greater than any mountain
in the then known world. They supposed it was the ridge from whence the revolted
giants attempted to scale the heavens, and they called it Hcemus from a Greek word
signifying " blood," because one of the impious invaders was slain by a thunderbolt, and
the torrent of his gore stained the mountains. They further affirm, that both the
Euxine and -ZEgean seas could be seen at once from its summit. The length of this
chain is as remarkable as its height; it extends for more than five hundred miles, one
end resting on the Black sea, and the other on the iEgean. It is now called the Balkan,
a Turkish or Sclavonian word, which implies difficult defiles, because it opposes a
natural rampart to an invading army, and is the most advanced bulwark of Constantinople. For a long time it was considered impassable by any ordinary force, and the
Greek and Turkish empire rested in confidence behind it; but a few years only have
passed, since the Russians proved its insecurity, and, to the astonishment of Europe, as
well as of the Turks, they scaled this mighty barrier, and established themselves at the
other side.
Except in a few places, the whole extent of the ridge is impassable—steep precipices, rugged and abrupt ascents, lofty rocks and impending crags, render the
general face of the mountains so difficult, as to repel all attempts to climb them. The
chain may be said to consist of three branches; two lower ridges rising at each side
parallel to the great one. The intervening valleys are exceedingly beautiful: they form
extensive sequestered tracts, shut out, as it were, from the rest of the world, and
abounding in every production that the fecundity of nature could supply, or the most
elaborate industry produce. Some of these spots exhibit, in the wildness of the descent,
all the beauties of a cultivated taste: pure streams of clear water rippling over pebbled
beds, skirted by copse-wood, and margined by swards of the richest grass, through
which the road winds like a gravel-walk in the young plantations of an English demesne;
in other places, expanding into broad meadows filled with sheep and horned cattle, or
corn-fields covered with growing grain in various stages. In the midst of these pastoral
scenes are many villages of singular appearance; and cottages scattered about without |
