side of the valley of Achladocampo. The road was for the most part a narrow ledge or shelf, now cut out of the solid rock, and now, again, paved with stone. Very little pains are usually taken to improve the state of the roads in these regions; but here, for the first time, we met an old man engaged in keeping the mountain path in repair. This he did, I presume, of his own accord, depending for his support on the contributions of passers-by. A collection of a few leptas secured to us his gratitude, and, if we might believe him, the protection of numberless saints of the calendar, whose names he glibly repeated. At length we reached the top of the hills, and suddenly obtained an extensive view of the plain of Tripolitza. The town itself was in full sight to the west. And now we commenced the descent. A village on our left furnished, in its vicinity, another example of the passage of a stream through one of those remarkable katavothra.

Leaving our baggage to proceed directly to Tripolitza under the charge of the Arab cook, we turned off toward Mantinea, some seven or eight miles northward. The prospect, as we approached, was quite alpine. On all sides we were shut in by mountains, of which Mount Khelmos stood out prominently in front, its snow-capped head with double its usual covering at present. The hills on either side approach at one spot, forming a separation between the parts of the plain. Our road led us along the right side of the valley, passing through a hamlet, where a troop of barking dogs came out to greet us. This is the invariable indication of approach to a village in the Morea, and it is an occurrence quite too uniform to be pleasant. Fortunately the courage of the curs was not equal to their zeal, and a few well-directed stones rarely failed to disperse the entire pack. We were not a little amused at the stratagem of one of our agoyates, who was accustomed to aim, first, a projectile, at which the dogs flew in a rage, affording him a good mark for his second missile. Not far from this village a peasant came running up, wishing to show and sell us a small coin he had found in ploughing. But his coin was too much defaced, and his price was too exorbitant, so that he failed to obtain a purchaser.

We reached the site of Mantinea, standing in the centre of

this part of the valley, in the midst of a marsh produced by a small creek, which shortly after buries itself, like its neighbors, in a katavothron near by. The ancient wall is the principal, or, indeed, the only object of interest beyond the mere position and natural features of this city, one of the most illustrious of Peloponnesus. This wall, it is true, rises at no place above three tiers of symmetrical courses of masonry; but the entire circuit of the fortifications is preserved. At regular intervals of sixty or eighty feet there are square towers projecting from the line of the wall, and numbering, it is said, near one hundred and twenty. The old moat is still filled with water, and we were compelled to ride around a great part of the wall before finding a spot which the horses could ford. Within the inclosure were some remains of a theatre, only its general outline and some scattered stones at its base being distinguishable. The most peculiar circumstance respecting Mantinea was its situation; for, unlike most Grecian towns, it possessed no acropolis or fortress. The lowness of its position suggested to the Spartan, Agesipolis, who in B.C. 385 laid siege to this city, a clever device for reducing it to terms. The walls at that time, it appears, were built of sun-dried bricks. By stopping the course of the stream, Agesipolis succeeded in inundating the vicinity of the walls, which soon began to crumble and fall. The inhabitants at once gave up the attempt to maintain themselves, and capitulated.

Perhaps no locality in the world can boast of an equal number of battles fought upon its soil. Besides several minor engagements, three great conflicts have been here described by three of the greatest Greek historians-Thucydides, Xenophon, and Polybius. In the first, fought B.C. 418, the Mantineans and their allies were routed, in a most decisive action, by the Spartans under Agis. Notwithstanding this success, however, the place was of ill omen for the Lacedæmonian arms. In the second of these great contests the Thebans, under Epaminondas, in the year B.C. 362, met and put to flight the Spartan army at the expense of their gallant, commander's life. Carried almost lifeless to one of the adjoining eminences (the spur of the mountain which sep

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arates the valleys of Mantinea and Tripolitza), he beheld from thence the complete discomfiture of his enemies. Contented, he withdrew the hand with which he had closed the bleeding wound, and died in the full height of his glory. The third battle was fought between the Spartans and the Achæans under the generalship of Philopomen, the "last of the Greeks," B.C. 207. It resulted in the defeat of the former, and the death of their king. This was one of the last and most deadly blows struck at the supremacy of Sparta.

No wonder, then, that a student of history should gaze with peculiar interest upon a field on which the destinies of states have been decided again and again, and whose soil has been stained with blood shed in civil wars. The plain is indeed one most suitable for such contests. Its fertility, so far superior to that of most of the neighboring valleys, gave to Mantinea its high rank among the independent cities in Arcadia. Yet nothing, it seemed to me, could better illustrate the diminutive size of these states, so famous in ancient story, than the mere circumstance that Tegea and Mantinea, those determined and implacable rivals, were separated from each other by an interval of only ten or twelve miles, which a horseman might easily traverse in little more than an hour. Had railroads been in use, the troops of one city might have been brought to the walls of the other in a quarter of that time. In view of the improvements of modern tactics, and especially the inventions of modern art, the misery arising from long-continued hostilities, or from their frequent recurrence, must necessarily come to an end. If the implements of warfare are more deadly, the aggregate of happiness is much greater than when the peaceful pursuits of industry and agriculture were continually disturbed by hostile inroads. Then the husbandman, who ventured out of sight of his native walls, fell into the hands of the predatory parties of the enemy. Battles, ordinarily resulting in the loss of but a few citizens on either side, were frequently the means, not so much of terminating the conflict as of engendering yet deeper hostility in the minds of the people who had been injured, but who had not lost the hope of retaliation. Such are the reflections that can not but force themselves a hundred times upon even the most enthusi

astic lover of antiquity, whether he may read the history of Greece, or whether, like myself, he may have the good fortune to tread its classic soil.

The night overtook us on our way toward Tripolitza. Upon arriving, we found the town crowded with people from various neighboring villages, who had assembled to attend a fair on the morrow. They were collected in companies at the khans and drinking-shops, making merry with wine and music. Long after retiring for the night we heard their protracted carousals. The panegyris, as these periodical assemblages of people are styled, are occasions of great enjoyment among the inhabitants of the whole neighborhood. To them the blind bards, who occupy the place of the ancient rhapsodists, flock in considerable numbers. In a hospitable khan, or in the open street, a crowd hangs on the minstrel's lips; while he chants the heroic lay of some famous kleft, or recounts the actions of the no less courageous citizens of Souli, who ofttimes, from their mountain fastness, repulsed the Pasha's troops. Then, again, a more lively theme excites to the dance, accompanied by the inharmonious notes of a rude guitar. These simple ballads, constituting at once the most correct history of a nation's feelings, and the most entertaining and popular portion of its literature, are but short-lived at best. Few of them reach the ears of the educated; fewer still are ever committed to paper; and a score of years is often sufficient to obliterate the memory of those which have been most in vogue. A second generation of composers brings forth an entirely new series of poems on original topics.

Tripolitza contains little or nothing suited to interest a stranger. It is an overgrown village rather than a town. Standing on the site of an ancient Arcadian city, Pallantium, it is entirely destitute of any classical remains. Yet Tripolitza has played a most important part in the recent history of Greece. Even before the Revolution, its central situation in Peloponnesus, and the extraordinary salubrity and fertility of its environs, had induced the Pashas to make it the political capital of the province. It was said (but this, in all probability, was an overstatement) to contain at that time a population of twenty thousand souls. In 1821, when the " ray

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ahs," after their lethargic submission of more than three centuries, had suddenly, by a single exertion of their unsuspected strength, broken asunder the slender cords with which the Sultan attempted to confine their vigorous limbs, the Turks fled in dismay to the open gates of Tripolitza. This city offered but a precarious defence. After a few months of negligent blockade, and one day of unremitted carnage, it fell a ready prey to an inferior Greek force. The streets swam with blood, and packs of half-famished dogs reveled upon the thirty thousand carcasses that choked the highways. The conquered were not spared by the sword; and few, besides the commandant, escaped by an appeal to the avarice of their captors.*

The scene was reversed in 1825, when Ibrahim Pasha invaded Greece with his Egyptian forces, and poured upon the wretched city the retribution to which he had long doomed it. The miserable inhabitants who escaped sought refuge in the mountains, where many perished of hunger. The rest for three long years from their haunts could espy the enemy in possession of their ancient homes. At length the treaty of pacification between Greece and Turkey put an end to their exile. The inhabitants once more gained possession of their deserted homes; but the wounds which a resolute enemy can inflict in a few days or weeks require assiduous treatment for years. The town of Tripolitza can scarcely yet be termed convalescent.

Our pack-horses were sent on by the direct road to Sparta, while we turned to the east, and crossed the Mantinean plain .toward the ruins of Tegea, or, to speak more properly, toward its site. This place, like several others in the country, bears the name of Paleo Episcopi, from the only edifice in the vicinity, an old diocesan church. It appears to have been built in the early ages of Christianity, when the architects found an abundance of materials in the now forsaken temples of their heathen ancestors. Every thing from this convenient quarry came in good stead. A Corinthian pillar or a Doric column

* This scene is described, with all its details of horror, in the account of an eye-witness contained in Aldenhoven's Itinéraire de l'Attique et du Peloponnèse (Athènes, 1841), p. 271–4.