Map and title page of Bent’s bestseller on the Cyclades (1885) (archive.org).
“The Islands of the Aegean Sea offer plenty of scope for the study of Hellenic archaeology, but they are more particularly rich in the preservation of manners and customs which have survived the lapse of years, and the result of a special study of both these points, made during two winters passed by my wife and myself amongst the islanders, in their distant hamlets, and in their towns by the sea-coast, I here place before the public.” (From Bent’s Preface, page v) note 1
“… Mr. Theodore Bent’s excellent book on the ‘Cyclades’, the only recent book which is really serviceable to teach ordinary readers the details of the subject.” (Prof. Sir John Pentland Mahaffy, Irish classicist, in Good Words, 1888: Vol. 29, 305 ff.)
Detail from a raised-relief map of Greece (Glyn Griffiths 2024).
Theodore Bent’s evergreen (ever-blue perhaps?) account of two winters happily spent island-hopping in the Greek Cyclades was published on 28 February 1885 in London by Longman, Green and Co. The Cyclades, or Life Among the Insular Greeks was the first such travelogue to appear in English and to this day features regularly in the bibliographies of those writing about these iconic islands.
Reviews spanning the century:
“Mr. Bent’s book deserves all success, for it is the result of researches pursued in the most laudable manner. When an educated man selects for his field of observation an interesting and little-explored area of country, and, after learning the language, spends a considerable part of two winters there, living among all classes of people so as to familiarise himself with the details of their life, and to become intimately acquainted with their ideas and modes of thought, he deserves the title of an enthusiastic investigator.” Academy 27, Jan/June 1885, p. 322.
“It is the classic of Aegean travel in English and will never be superseded, for one good reason that Bent was lucky enough to visit the islands when they were still, as it were, intact and only just waking out of the sleep of centuries.” Ernle Bradford, The Companion Guide to the Greek Islands (1983, Collins, London, p. 156).
“James Theodore Bent (1852-1897), author of The Cyclades (London, 1885), much the most valuable book on the Aegean.” (Robert Liddell, Aegean Greece, London, 1954, p.107, n.1)
“Seriphos and Siphnos sound like Heavenly Twins, and are very similar in size and scope. Kimolos and Sikinos are hard to visit, and harder to escape from… frankly it is not worth the trouble to do so, unless you are as determined and thorough about your Aegean as old Theodore Bent – who wrote the real classic on the area.” (Lawrence Durrell, The Greek Islands, London, 1980, p.254)
Reading The Cyclades
As an audiobook of The Cyclades has yet to appear, to mark its 140th anniversary (2025) we have asked ‘Cycladists’, those with affinities to the islands, to read memorable extracts from Bent’s guide for us.
The order of appearance is in accordance with how Bent sequenced them, not as the couple actually visited them – for this you need to see the diary of his wife, Mabel, for the winter of 1883/4. The dates given, where possible, of when they made their visits are from this diary – and not always reliable. The Bents’ first winter in the area, 1882/3, is unchronicled by Mabel, seeming to have been limited to a few Easter weeks, taking in Tinos and Amorgos. The diarist notes on their return to London in the Spring of 1884 that “though we like good food and beds and ease and comfort as well as others, we think the pleasure we have had quite pays for all the pains”. (The Travel Chronicles of Mrs J. Theodore Bent, Vol. 1, Oxford, 2006, p. 61)
The tsabouna played by Yannis Pantazis of Santorini.
Most readings begin with a short melody on the island bagpipes (tsabouna) played by Yannis Pantazis of Santorini. The Bents would have been very familiar with this sound, even acquiring their own instrument (now in the Pitt Rivers Museum, Oxford).
So, πάμε, click on an audio file below to transport yourself to the Bents’ Cyclades as they found them in 1883/4 (zoom out on the map below to slowly reveal the islands). Further reader contributions will be added, of course, as they sail in, σιγά-σιγά! note 2
(All rights remain with the individual readers, 2025-)
The Readings
Introduction and Bent’s Preface (pp. v-viii), dated November 1884
An introduction to ‘Reading “The Cyclades”‘, followed by Bent’s Preface to the first edition, providing a little background and his main objectives in visiting the islands over the course of two winters…
Serifos [Bent’s Ch. 1: Saturday 1st December – Tuesday 4th December 1883]
“The Church of St. Athanasius was worth seeing, being round with two little apses. It has a lovely iconostasis… carved in wood, with vine tendrils, and festoons, and niches for twenty eikons…” Metropolitan Church of Agios Athanasios, Ano Chora, Serifos (C. Messier, Wikipedia, CC BY-SA 4.0).
After a short stay on Syros, Siphnos was the first island the couple visited on their second winter tour, with Bent also choosing to begin his travelogue here. This ‘very pretty island’, as Mabel calls it, still makes the perfect overture to Bent’s Cycladic idyll, introducing us to all the themes that reappear throughout his work – ‘Zorba’-like characters, myths and legends, food and drink, custom and costume, antiquities, the ups and downs of travel, everyday life ‘among insular Greeks’ indeed… Our first reader is Elizabeth Boleman-Herring, author, inter alia, of The Aegean Islands Insight Pocket Guide: Mykonos and Santorini, publishing-editor of Weekly Hubris, and Cycladophile.
Melos [Bent’s Ch. 4: Saturday, 15th December – Friday, 21 December 1883]
View of the ancient theatre of Melos (330 x 558 mm, graphite, pen and ink, and watercolour) by James Skene, c. 1841 (CC Trustees of the British Museum (asset number 1280633001)).
Anafi [Bent’s Ch. 5: Wednesday, 9 January 1884 – Friday, January 11 1884 or Saturday, 12 January 1884]
A photo from the early 1940s giving some idea of what Anafi’s harbour jetty might have looked like 100 years after the Bents sailed from the island (Margaret Kenna).
Bent’s entire chapter read by social anthropologist and Anafi specialist Margaret Kenna (Professor Emerita, Swansea University), who has spent 50 years researching in Greece, most of it focussed on the islanders and migrants of Anafi, spending a year on the island doing fieldwork for her doctorate in 1966 (Greek Island Life: Fieldwork on Anafi, Sean Kingston Publishing, 2017).
Santorini [Bent’s Ch. 6: Monday, 7th January – Wednesday, 23 January 1884]
Travel writer Jennifer Barclay reads the Bents on Santorini (photo = Ian smith).
Travel writer and Tilos resident Jennifer Barclay first got to know the Bents a few years back when they went with her some of the way on her breezy Dodecanese travelogue Wild Abandon (Bradt Guides 2020); she wrote an article for us about the adventure too (In the Footsteps of Theodore and Mabel). Needless to say, we’re now very happy she has agreed to sail a little west from Tilos into the Cyclades to read a few of her favourite extracts from Bent’s visit to Santorini (no introduction required there, of course), where she spent a summer in the early 1990s. And if you think you can hear cicadas in the background now and then, you can; Jennifer has her window open as she reads…
Ios [Bent’s Ch. 7: Wednesday, 23 January – Sunday, 27 January 1884]
P.M. Iannetta; Ios harbour in the 1930s (after Liddell 1954); Ekaterina Lorenziadis’ costume (National Historical Museum, Athens); Ios, the Chora today (Joshua Doubek: Wikipedia).
English language teacher and island-hopper P.M. Iannetta narrates the Bents’ landing on Ios – ‘Little Malta’ – and their first impressions of the main town. We meet mayor Lorenziadis and his family and are treated to a fashion show by his daughter Ekaterina – the dress she is modelling is now on display at the National Historical Museum, Athens.
Sikinos [Bent’s Ch. 8: Sunday, 27 January 1884 – Friday, 1 February 1884]
Prof. Rebecca Sweetman, Director, British School at Athens (BSA).
“Few remains in Greece are more perfect than this temple of Apollo …” Episkopi, Sikinos, before the recent restoration works (Rebecca Sweetman).
The Bents had a happy relationship with the British School (founded in 1886) and were frequent guests at 52 Souedias Street (in April 1896 Theodore was asked to take charge of a small dig near the Athens Olympieion). Rebecca’s reading ends with the Bents’ ride to Sikinos’ atmospheric Episkopi monument, very recently restored to great acclaim. (By the way, Mabel has her 38th birthday on this remote Cycladic island.)
Delos [from Bent’s Ch. 10, Mykonos (as ‘Note II – The Excavations at Delos’): Saturday, 1 March 1884]
Delos – bases and monuments north of Theophrastos’ Agora, the ‘Hypostyle Hall’, photographed in 1908, i.e. 25 years or so only after the Bents’ visit. The photographer is unknown (CC Archimage).
Rather like today’s tourists, the Bents spent a day on Delos, legendary birthplace of Apollo and Artemis, at the end of their visit to Mykonos. Then as now, excavations on this island, the heart of the Cyclades, are under the aegis of L’École Française D’Athènes in coordination with the Greek State. Bent, of course, finds the remains tantalising. His archaeological thoughts are read by Catherine Bouras, Secrétaire de rédaction pour La Chronique des fouilles en ligne, l’EFA.
Naxos 1 & 2 [Bent’s Ch. 14: Sunday, 23 December 1883 – Monday, 7 January 1884]
Portara, the large portal of the Sanctuary of Delian Apollo, Naxos (C. Messier, Wikipedia).
An early extract from Bent’s chapter on Naxos (‘The Town of Naxia’), where the couple spend Christmas, 1883. The passage – referencing the famous islet off the main town and its trademark temple remains that still salute every arrival by sea – is read by our friend the cartographer Glyn Griffiths, who has kindly provided many maps for our website and publications over the last twenty years, and for whose work we are most happy to thank here.
Revis Cruttenden, “Island Chapel” (detail, 2010, oil on board, 35.5 x 20.5).
A second extract from Bent’s Naxos chapter (‘In the Mountains of Naxos’) takes us inland and up into the mountains by paths still traceable among the picture-book villages of the interior region of Potamia. It is read by garden-designer/artist Revis Cruttenden, Cycladic traveller and erstwhile Mani resident. (Mabel’s diary gives the date of the rainy mule ride as 29 December 1883.)
Naxos 3 [Bent’s Ch. 14: Sunday, 23 December 1883 – Monday, 7 January 1884]
Vanessa Gordon
For our third reading from Bent’s extended Naxos chapter in his classic 1885 Cyclades travelogue, who better to ask than Vanessa Gordon, author of The Naxos Mysteries – her choice being Theodore and Mabel’s ride up into the north-east quarter of the island to see if the reputation of the villagers of Apiranthos can be as bad as it was made out, and then to scramble down to the coast to admire the famous unfinished statue at Apollonas.
The Naxos Mysteries: 1 – 4 (Vanessa Gordon, 2025).
Vanessa’s six books in her series The Naxos Mysteries are all to do with ‘archaeology, mystery and murder on the beautiful Greek island of Naxos’, involving her lead character, the archaeologist Martin Day; all themes, not totally disconnected from Theodore Bent’s narrative.
Kouros of Apollonas, Naxos. Mabel Bent writes in her diary: “We had a great deal of difficulty in the morning about starting to go and see an unfinished colossal statue said to be of Apollo, 1½ hour off near the sea… We had to leave the mules and climb with hands as well as feet to the quarry and on to the statue, which is enormous and very rough and weather worn.”(Wikipedia)
We should not be surprised, therefore, to find Theodore and Mabel making cameo appearances in two of Vanessa’s books – The Search for Artemis (2021, pp. 39-49, 129-30) and The House in Apíranthos (2024, p. 142) – this latter village featuring prominently in her reading here.
In this extract, Bent makes one of the earliest descriptions in English of the gigantic statue of ‘Apollo’ at Apollonas, and listen out, too, for references to the village of Komiaki (Koronida), where the Bents first encountered their mercurial dragoman Manthaios Simos, from neighbouring Anafi. As faithful as mercurial, Simos was instrumental in the rescue of the desperately ill Bents, east of Aden, in early 1897.
Area of Apíranthos, Naxos, Cyclades (Google Maps).
The Secrets of Stelida, Vanessa’s seventh title in her series will be released on 25 February 2026. She writes: ‘I love the mystery genre, which enables me to explore the magic of Greek antiquity, the wonderful landscape and the cuisine of Greece, and the rich complexities of human nature. In The Naxos Mysteries I try to appeal to both the mind and the heart of my reader, engaging them in the passions and tragedies of the characters in a context of discovery and exploration.’
Bonus Material
Travel-writer Marc Dubin’s dealings with the Bents (Marc Dubin/Bent Archive).
By way of ‘bonus material’, here is a modified reading of the Preface written by well-known travel-writer Marc Dubin for the Archaeopress edition of the Bents’ collected writings on the Dodecanese, in which he makes several references to Bent’s The Cyclades. We owe a huge debt of gratitude to Marc, for it was his listing of Bent in a bibliography decades ago that indirectly gave rise to the Bent Archive some 40 years later. The reading is by Marc’s friend and Rhodes resident, Constance Rivemale.
Notes
Note 1: In terms of contemporary English visitors (tourists) to the region, Bent would have found little in the way of popular literature. There exists a superficial, anonymous, article that he most probably would have read, written by a young male(?) traveller who decided to make a short sail from Athens in February 1880, ‘to woo the sea breezes among the Cyclades’. His tour takes in Syros, Tinos, Delos, Naxos, Paros, and Antiparos. On Tinos he makes reference to the famous annual pilgrimage – an event that draws Bent there in the spring of 1883. The article, barely recommendable, is A Cruise in Greek Waters (The St. James’s Magazine and United Empire Review, v.39 (12) JY-D (1880), pp.39-46). Curiously, its title is identical to the earlier (1870) travelogue by the affable maverick Frederick Trench Townshend. This is well worth the trouble of finding, although the Cyclades are not included. Return from Note 1
Note 2: More readings will be added as and when they appear. For details of how to participate, contact info[at]thebentarchive[dot]com Return from Note 2
‘Adana in the 1870s’ (Davis 1879: 60) (detail, archive.org).
“We were at Adana 2 nights and Theodore was very busy with the arrangements for our journey into the Interior, for, like Africa, Asia Minor has an Interior.” (Mabel Bent’s Chronicle, early March 1890)
For the background to the discovery of this ‘lost’ Bent manuscript from the archive of the Royal Geographical Society, London, see below. Annotated and illustrated here, it is transcribed in full, presumably for the first time, and will be of particular interest to specialists in all fields of Anatolian studies as well as modern travellers to this still scarcely referenced region north of Adana. Some sections have appeared in other pieces by Bent, but never this complete text. We are extremely grateful to the Royal Geographical Society (RGS-IBG) for kindly allowing the first transcription and publication of this article. The transcription is by the Bent Archive. The wider region of eastern Cilicia, the focus of the Bents’ interest (east and west of the D817 highway from Adana to Kozan) in the spring of 1890 (Google Maps).
From Mabel Bent’s diary, these are the approximate travel dates for the sites in today’s south-eastern Türkiye referenced in Bent’s article, e.g., after 26 February 1890 the Bents leave Mersin, halting at Tarsus and Adana, for Sis(Kozan), reaching there on 6 March; 10 March the party rides south to Anazarba(Anavarza); 13 March to ‘Kars Bazaar’ (Kadirli); 15 March, via Hemita Kaleh(Hemite Kalesi) to Hieropolis-Castabala(‘Bodroum/Boudroum’). The couple spend four days at the latter site, leaving on 19 March and reaching Mersin again on 22 March 1890. They then revisit the Lamas Valley region (having surveyed it briefly before making for Sis) and achieve the identification of the remains of Olba… called by one scholar ‘Bent’s Pompeii’.
Bent’s unpublished RGS PAPER/article 1890
[Cite as: J. Theodore Bent, ‘Exploration in the North East of the Cilician Plain’. From a MS in the archive of the Royal Geographical Society, London (1890); transcription: Bent Archive 2026.]
J. Theodore Bent, ‘Exploration in the North East of the Cilician Plain’
Probably in no quarter of the globe are history, geography and anthropology more closely interwoven than they are in the Cilician plain. Specimens of at least ten nationalities may now be found existing upon it, some sedentary, some nomadic, but all in the most primitive state and void of civilization. History may be said to terminate with the fall of the Armenian Kingdom in the 14th century, but then, during the days of Greece and Rome, the Byzantine Empire and the Crusades, the Cilician plain played a most important rôle in the affairs of the world, and to explain this rôle which the Cilicias played, an intimate knowledge of geography and the configuration of the country is necessary.
In this paper I propose to confine my remarks to the North East corner, describing our visit to the rock fortresses of Sis and Anazarba and our discovery of an ancient site on the Pyramus called Hieropolis-Castabala, which played an important part in the itinerary of Alexander the Great, with a description of the present condition of the country and the nomadic tribes amongst whom we lived during our stay there.
The Bents’ explorations in south-eastern Türkiye (spring 1890) showing the sites, inter alia, of Sis, Anazarba, and Hieropolis-Castabala (Bent 1890: Pl. VII; archive.org).
After crossing a series of low hills behind Adana of conglomerate covered with clay which divide the southern part of the plain from that portion which stretches into the heart of the Taurus Mountains, a long expanse of wild, desolate country is entered without any signs of cultivation and entirely given up to the nomad tribes who here pasture their flocks during the winter months. Certain rocks appear in the vast extent of plain crowned with old fortress cities of the Armenian Kingdom, rising like islands out of the flat expanse. Ylan Kaleh, or the serpent castle, Tumlo Kaleh, and the fortresses of Anazarba and Sis, with which we have now more especially to deal.
Sis is situated at the edge of the plain and is divided from the mountain ranges only by a narrow valley. It is a mean town now, consisting of about 200 houses inhabited by Armenians and the convent on the hillside where the patriarch or Catholicos resides, who carries on the faint tradition of upholding the Armenian Kingdom and who is in open rivalry with the Catholicos of Etchmiazen in northern Armenia, who is looked upon as the head of the Armenian race by all members of the nationality north of the Taurus range. note 1 On the height above are the strong castle and walls of the fortress town which was the capital of Lesser Armenia during the Roupenian dynasty.
This dynasty owed its existence to the Crusades and the conveniences of the Cilician plain as a rendezvous for the troops on the way to Palestine. Roupan or Reuben the 1st received the title of king for the assistance he gave to the Crusaders in reaching Antioch, and for a period of chequered fortune for three centuries this house ruled over Lesser Armenia. Obviously, Tarsus was unfitted for a capital owing to its exposed position on the plain. Anazarba, too, could easily be surrounded by a hostile army, but Sis, from its proximity to the mountains, was just the place for the fortress capital which the Roupenian dynasty built upon it. A river, the Karabouna Tschai, flows at its feet and falls into the Pyramus about two hours south of Anazarba. The country around is a network of streams all feeding the Pyramus and offering great difficulties to the traveller, especially in spring after the melting of the snows, as there are but few bridges and the fords become dangerous. In the mountains behind Sis are numerous fortresses which the Armenians could retire to when pressed by an enemy; one of these, Kirk Capon, or 40 Gates, which we visited, has the ruins of an old basilica and several heroa and tombs dating from the Roman period but Sis itself shows no earlier ruins than those of the Armenian period. note 2 ‘Town and Fortress of Sis’ (from Davis 1879: 152, detail, archive.org).
The castle of Sis is very difficult of access and the walls are preserved intact; the circle enclosed by them is oval in form. There are three gates and the space within is divided into three distinct parts by the shape of the mountains and is a mass of ruins. From an Armenian inscription we learn that Leo II in 1186 greatly increased and strengthened it. For fully a mile these ruins crown this elevated ridge looking down on the vast plain; these are ruins of forts, churches, subterranean vaults, and domestic buildings. The highest point is 1200 ft above the sea level and this area within the walls is a favourite pasturage for the nomads, for there is a pond at the top fed by a never-failing spring which is delightfully cool in summer. The views over the snow-capped peaks of the Taurus on the one hand, and the expanse of the plain on the other, with its network of streams, is exceedingly striking. Just below the fortress is what is left of the palace of the takovars or princes of the Roupenian dynasty when they held their court after removing from Tarsus, but this palace has been pulled to pieces to build the convent on the slope close by. Wilbrand, a canon of Oldenburg in Germany, who wrote an account of his travels in 1211, describes the gardens of King Leo II on this slope as passing description for beauty. note 3 ‘City From N Showing Line Of Aqueduct’. Part of Anazabar’s extensive aqueduct system photographed (detail) by Gertrude Bell c. 18 April 1905 (GB/3/1/3/1/154, Gertrude Bell Archive, Newcastle University, CC).
The importance of the Cilician plain is illustrated by the intercourse between the Roupenians and western Europe. Three orders of chivalry, the Hospitallers, the Templars, and the Knights of the Teutonic order, were allotted forts and cities in the districts by the Armenian kings in recognition for their services in keeping the Seljukians of Iconium on the other side of the Taurus, and then the three Italian Republics had each of them golden hills from the kings which gave them a strong foothold in the district. Leo II gave Genoa her charter in 1215, by which she was accorded a street in Tarsus, land for a church, baths, and an oven and a garden. With the fall of the Crusades and the extinction of the religious mania they inspired the Roupenian dynasty to fall and Leo VI abandoned all his fortresses to the Turks and died in Paris in 1393.
There is a long stretch of plain to be crossed between Sis and Anazarba and the river Sombaz, another tributary of the Pyramus. The ground is exceedingly marshy and covered with tall reeds, perfectly uninhabitable in summer from its malarious exhalations. The unhealthiness of the Cilician plain is historical. Alexander the Great nearly fell a victim to it in Tarsus, and a Knight Templar writing to the Pope (Arch. Imp. de France) says: “This land is itself to sickly and bad that if 4000 horseman passed through it, however strong and well, it would be wonderful if at the end of the year 500 would be found”. note 4
The features of this portion of the plain are the remains of the two gigantic aqueducts which supplied Anazarba with water when it was the great city of the district during the Empire, Cæsarea penes Anazarbum as Ptolemy calls it. note 5 It was very flourishing under the imperial favour and it was granted the rights of a metropolis. There is another underground aqueduct also, so the town was amply supplied with water. One of the aqueducts brings water from the source of the Sombaz where there are fine springs at the edge of the mountains.
‘Fortress – View Of Second Enciente From First’. From Gertrude Bell’s seminal series of photographs of Anazarba, late April 1905 (GB/3/1/3/1/157, Gertrude Bell Archive, Newcastle University, CC).
The appearance of Anazarba is most striking. The fortress crowns a high ridge about four miles long, reaching an elevation of 1000 feet, rocky, barren, and for the greater part of its extent inaccessible, arising in solitary grandeur out of the vast plain; being as it is ten miles from the mountains, its appearance of isolation is more marked than Sis and as a stronghold its importance must have been great. A few miles to the South East flows the Pyramus, the Sombaz and Savroun rivers unite just below, flowing on either side of it, therefore it is protected not only by its natural strength but by the two streams on either side of it. Wilbrand in his travels thus describes it: “A strong castle eight miles from Sis on a high mountain in the middle of the plain”. note 6 Leo II gave some fêtes here at which this canon of Oldenburg was present. The walls of the ancient town commence at the foot of the mountain and enclose a space of about one square mile; those which are now standing are of Saracen workmanship, but blocks of Roman masonry and inscriptions of the time of the Emperors are inserted into it. The sheer walls of the mountains are covered with rock cut tombs, sarcophagi and bas reliefs, none of them of a Pre-Roman period but all pointing to the importance of the place during the Empire.
The fortress which crowns the hill is entirely of Armenian structure and is still in excellent preservation, far superior to the ruins of Sis. In the centre of a large open space is a small chapel with a long Armenian inscription round it stating that it was built by Theodore or Thoros, the third king of the Roupenian dynasty. One side of this mountain is admirably protected by nature, offering a continuous line of precipitous cliffs 800 feet in height. Anazarba suffered severely from an earthquake in the reign of Justinian. He rebuilt it and the arch of triumph, which is still fairly preserved, was erected on the occasion. There is a curious rift in the mountain forming a gully or pass over to the other side, which was evidently, from inscriptions cut on the rock, used as a place of refuge in times of distress.
During our stay at Anazarba we put up in the wicker huts of a nomad tribe of Afshars who live within the ancient walls during the winter months; this gave us ample opportunity of studying their customs. When in the north of Persia, we passed a considerable time amongst this numerous tribe who inhabit the mountains anciently comprising the old kingdom of Media. note 7 Their origin and history would appear to be lost in obscurity. All that is known of them is that in 1508 this tribe, in conjunction with six others, succeeded in assisting Shah Ismael in his wars and obtained from him considerable privileges until their power became too great and Shah Abbas incorporated the Shah Sevan tribe (or friends of the Shah) to counteract their influence. The Afshars in Persia are practically independent under khans who dwell in their mountain fortresses and defy government interference. The nomads who penetrate into the Cilician plain are under the control of their aghas, who are responsible for their good conduct to the government.
Until recent years an Afshar chief called Khozan Agha ruled supreme in the district of Sis, holding the mountain passes and keeping the inhabitants in a perpetual state of terror; he was conquered after a long struggle extending over many years by the governors of Adana and the county is now comparatively safe to traverse, though certain Circassian tribes are ever on the look out to perpetuate small acts of brigandage if they can do so with impunity. In Persia the Afshars would appear to be of Kourdish origin from their names and propensities, while the Afshars to the south are much mixed up with Armenians, having old Armenian words in their dialect of Turkish and names of a distinct Armenian provenance. In Persia they talk Tatar Turkish but to the south their dialect is little different from that of the other nomads amongst whom they live. The Afshars with whom we dwelt during our stay at Anazarba were encamped just inside the ruined walls and had built themselves huts out of the reeds which crown the neighbouring marshes. Most of these miserable tenements were in a most dilapidated condition from the fact that the spring was near. When they go up to the mountains they set fire to their huts and then rebuild them the following winter, consequently they do not care to keep them in order. Most of them consist of two rooms with a partition in the middle; the floors are of mud and very moist in wet weather, which it unfortunately was during most of our stay at Anazarba, so that we had to sleep under waterproofs and umbrellas.
Large dogs, as large if not larger than St Bernards, are their only protection and are very savage. At night time they are trained to prowl around and give warning of the approach of any enemy. They cut the ears so that they may hear better. “Better shoot one of the children than one of their dogs” I was warned when threatening to shoot one if attacked.
The nights we spent in these huts were miserable and it would seem that the Afshars never sleep and all night long they are watching their cattle, driving them from their reed huts, which they were constantly trying to eat and no peace of any sort could be got. At early dawn the noise of the churning began and quiet only appeared to reign during the absence of the flocks at their pasturage.
The Afshar is quite a different individual to the Yourouk, or nomad, of the neighbouring mountains to the West. He is not so well built; he is swarthy, has a round and often hairless face and small, narrow eyes; a face which often reminds us of the Chinese type, and it would seem that he hails from very far away in the heart of Asia. At the neighbouring encampment of Hemita Kaleh the resemblance to the Chinese was even more strongly marked than at Anazarba. An Afshar without his fez, with the front part of his hair shaved close and left to grow long behind, with his yellow skin, high cheek bones and almond-shaped eyes, would pass very well for an inhabitant of the Celestial Empire. Many of the Afshars aspire to a great age. We were shown one who said he was 121 and could walk well, going up every summer to the yaelas, or mountain pasture, the only point, however, that seems certain is that this nomadic life is conducive to great old age and that longevity is common amongst them.
The women are fat and stumpy; some of them decidedly handsome. Down their backs they wear long plaits of hair to which they attach still longer additions made of cotton or silk and dyed to suit the colour of their hair, so at first sight it could appear that their plaits of hair hang down almost to their heels. note 8 On these false plaits they fasten odds and ends of silver ornaments and they call them ourmeh. Their faces are always unveiled, except a bride, who conceals her face for the space of a year and she is condemned to silence, like the custom is amongst the Armenians, until her first child is born. Most of the women have their noses bored and into the hole they put a clove, which puzzled us for a long time for it resembled a nail, the idea being, I imagine, to sweeten the breath.
They wear embroidered jackets and red drawers which come below their knees and they go about with bare legs and feet. Modesty seems to be a thing unknown amongst them, several times we saw women stark naked by a stream washing themselves and their clothes, and the presence of men in their vicinity did not appear to disconcert them in the least.
For fuel they use nothing but the reeds from the neighbouring marsh, which they put damp on to their fires and they go off like musketry, rather alarming at first in the darkness, for we never felt sure that we might not be disturbed by a band of Circassian robbers. In an adjoining encampment where reeds were not so plentiful they make tezek or dung cakes for fuel; the refuse of the stable is spread out in the sun, mixed with straw and water, and with naked feet the women, who are chiefly employed in the industry, may be seen trotting almost all day in this delightful composition until it has assumed the required consistency. It is then left to dry a little, when round cakes are made, or square blocks, and then it is stacked. New tezek is very objectionable to, from being decidedly odoriferous, but old tezek is not unlike peat.
In her diary, Mabel Bent makes a doodle of a large wooden pot she spies in Sis. “[I] was much interested in some large wooden objects I saw in our yard, just the shape of an oenochoe and asked for what purpose they were used. ‘To bring water but now they bring him in the gasoil’s dish’.” The Bents acquired one, now in the Pitt Rivers Museum, Oxford (1891.4.2.1). (Mabel Bent 2006: 293; Hellenic Society Archive, London).For water they use curious, large wooden amphorae hollowed out of the trunks of trees and elegantly carved. note 9 Out of the trunks of trees they make their beehives too, blocking up the ends with cakes of dung. Their bees they always take with them to the mountains and they boil the wax and honey together, making cakes resembling soap which they eat.
The men of some of these tribes wear very pretty, loose blue jackets embroidered with gold and carry narrow-handled guns, beautifully chased and with the barrel decorated with six or seven bands of silver.
There are also some Bosdans or followers of Bosadan Oglou in the neighbourhood of Anazarba. This tribe would seem to be closely allied to the Afshars and come, I imagine, from the same stock. They are very like them in personal appearance. Their women wear the same costume, only that they have large gold circular ornaments at each ear and are altogether more lavish in the number of silver and other ornaments, which they contrive to fasten on to the ourmeh or false plait which hangs down their back.
The women of these tribes are great workers and besides their milking and churning they contrive to turn out a great number of their gelims or course carpets, inferior indeed to the Karamanian carpets made by the Yourouks, but very effective when the patterns are elaborate and the colours well blended. In every wicker house is the loom and the hole in the ground where the legs of the women disappear to work the pedals of her instrument. By the Zeihan, the ancient Pyramus, which flows a few miles to the South-East of Anazarba, the tribe have great quantities of buffalos and rude carts with large round wheels made out of one piece of wood with the axle passed through. At Bodroum, where we again lived amongst Afshars for some days on the banks of the Pyramus. We found the houses a little more comfortable, being built out of wattle and bamboo and covered on the inside with pats of manure, which they whitewash and decorate with rude patterns in henna. Here the women wear a different costume, red leather shoes to keep off the snakes, red baggy trousers, blue skirt and red satin jacket, a fez bound round with lace, and splendid gold ornaments at each ear, and a frontlet of coins. Altogether, the Afshars of Bodroum appear vastly superior to those who live at Anazarba and are more stationary, only going to the neighbouring mountains for their summer pasture and not burning their houses when they go away, whilst those of Anazarba have their summer haunts far away in the interior, not far from Kaisariyeh.
The Afshars and tribes kindred to them are comparatively a peaceful race now, but the Circassians are the great robbers and dread of the neighbourhood, stealing cattle, women, and anything they can lay their hands on. They are great dealers in horse and breeders too, and ride fiery young steeds which soon distance them from any pursuit. All the marshy ground by the banks of the Pyramus is a perfect nursery for young horses and is covered with them for miles. The head bey of a neighbouring village, a settlement of Circassians, who came to pay us a visit whilst we were at Anazarba, had, I was told, 2000 horses for sale; this amount was, I have no doubt, greatly exaggerated but we saw for ourselves as we rode along the Pyramus a vast number of mares and colts.
The Circassian wedding is an interesting spectacle to witness. They are strictly exogamists and never marry amongst their own people, purchasing wives from another tribe of Circassians. The betrothal, consequently, and the arrangement of the sum to be paid by the husband is an affair of almost more importance than the wedding; it is, in fact, a sale conducted not in money but in mares or baitals as the standard of value. One camel = 5 mares and one mare = 20 sheep, and so on. As a sign that the contract is concluded a sheep is roasted whole and various other dishes prepared and the young Circassian girls play all sorts of practical jokes on the visitors before their departure. The wedding is comparatively a mild affair, the betrothal being the great matrimonial festivity amongst them.
Davis (1879: 137) writes “Near the door of our hut was one of the native threshing machines. This primitive instrument is a thick piece of pine wood, thickly set on the under side with flint stones, fixed along the grain of the wood (Isaiah xli. 15); on this a man sits and is dragged by a pair of bullocks round and round upon the heap of grain which is to be threshed out.” Bent records seeing a similar object.
As to cultivation, there is very little of it to be seen in the North-East corner of the Cilician plain. Near Bodroum was saw some fields of wheat and the tools were primitive. The Roman bipalium with the crossbar, which is useful in helping them to drive it further into the ground, is still used by them as a spade, and the threshing board with flint stuck all over it below cannot be very different from the “new sharp threshing instrument having teeth” of Isaiah XLI. 15, note 10 and their sheep are all of the broad-tailed tribe common to the East, tails which the sheep have immense difficulty in carrying and though I never actually saw one, I quite believe the story that the shepherds sometimes make little wooden carts to assist the sheep in carrying its heavy appendage. I always looked on this as a traveller’s story till I saw the tails on the Cilician plain and heard that they often provide this convenience for their flocks. In Lev. 111. 9 the directions laid down by Moses must have referred to sheep of this description, and Herodotus Bk III, Ch. 13, where he speaks of sheep with tails “one cubit in width” was not far wrong in his calculation. Moreover, we see them depicted for us on the bas reliefs of Persepolis and doubtless the sheep of the nomads are descendants of these. The fat is very useful in cooking and is an excellent substitute in these wild parts for lard, far preferable to the rancid butter with which we were generally provided for cooking purposes.
‘Ala Camisi – From S, General View, Men In Front Of Church’. Another of Gertrude Bell’s images, we are among the ruins of Bent’s ‘Flaviopolis’ at ‘Kars Bazaar’ (GB/3/1/3/1/144, spring, 1905, Gertrude Bell Archive, Newcastle University, CC).
On leaving Anazarba we rode for several hours Eastward across the plain, crossing the Sombaz by a bridge and the Savroun by a ford and reached Kars Bazaar, a place full of ruins on a gentle eminence above the river at the foot of the mountains. note 11 In a cottage we found a lovely tessellated pavement with an inscription stating that it had been put down by the fullers’ guild. In early Christian times this must have been a spot of note, a monastic building, now a mosque, being of 500 A.D., but we found no inscriptions to guide us to its name, but two points lead me to believe it was Flaviopolis, firstly, from coins we learn that it was on a river, and secondly it was the first station on the road eastwards after Anazarba.
‘Ferry Docked On Ceyhan River (Jeyhan Chai), With Men And Livestock’. Gertrude Bell captures one of the regular river crossings (here the famed ‘Pyramus’), always nervy moments for the Bents (GB/3/1/3/1/129, 19 April 1905, Gertrude Bell Archive, Newcastle University, CC).
Hearing of extensive remains at a spot called Bodroum about 5 hours distant from Kars Bazaar, the name of which had not been identified, we determined on visiting them and devoting some time to the thorough exploration of the district. About four hours to the South-East of Kars we reached the banks of the Zeihan, the Pyramus of antiquity, a rapid, muddy stream which is continually altering its course and washing away the sandy banks on either side so that a ferry which connects the main road has to be moved from place to place as the necessity requires. The mountains come right down to the stream at a spot called Hemita Kaleh. note 12 On a rock is situated a medieval castle, which must have entirely commanded the right bank. Bodroum is almost three miles from this spot further up the stream and shortly after the Zeihan has emerged from the defile through which it makes its way to the Cilician plain from its sources in the Taurus range. The ruins are situated almost three-quarters of a mile from the river and cover an enormous extent of ground. The ancient acropolis crowned a rock at the extreme edge of a narrow spur of mountains projecting into the centre of the town. A cutting 40 feet deep behind the acropolis separated it from the spur, offering road communication between the East and West portions of the ancient city.
F.S. Weller’s site plan of the monuments at Bodroum, Bent’s Hieropolis-Castabala (Bent 1890: facing p. 235; archive.org).
The most conspicuous feature of the place is the row of columns of red and blue conglomerate starting from the principal gateway, with Corinthian capitals and Ionic bases, similar, though less ornate, to those of the colonnade at Pompeiopolis at the coast near Mersina. There is an architectural feature about these colonnades – Pompeiopolis, Hierapolis and at Olba – which connects them with the colonnade at Palmyra leading to the Temple of the Sun, namely the bracket inserted in the drum of the column for carrying a statue and inscription which I do not know of elsewhere. note 13
The road space between these columns was 35 feet and the columns were erected at regular intervals of eight feet. This striking colonnade extended for a distance of 320 yards and apparently terminated at the back of the ancient theatre. Each row had about 78 columns as far as I could calculate, but it was difficult to arrive at the exact number as there are only 30 now left standing. The theatre is very large, the scena being 62 feet in length but it is much dilapidated. Besides these remains there are ruins of many public buildings. One apparently formed a stadium, another the agora, another the thermæ in the valley below, and not far from the colonnade are the ruins of a large temple: an aqueduct cut in the spur of rocks behind the town supplied the place with water from a source about six miles distant. Many fine tombs and heroa note 14 are dotted over the flat space sloping towards the Pyramus and there are the ruins of three Christian churches built out of the more ancient remains still left standing.
For a considerable time we were unable to come across anything to assist us in identifying the ancient name of this fine city but after devoting several days to a systematic turning over of likely stones we at last succeeded in collecting twelve inscriptions, note 15 from which we were able to restore not only the ancient name but also to establish many points of interest in connection with the place.
Four of these inscriptions were from dedicatory stelai and each began with the formula О ΔНМОΣ О ІEPOПОΛІТΩN, satisfactorily proving to us that this place was called Hieropolis in ancient times. On referring to numismatics we learn that this place was called by the double name of Hieropolis-Castabala, or “Hieropolis near the Pyramus”, with the river represented on them as a swimming figure with an aquatic bird swimming beside him and carrying a torch (πύρ). Other coins have the head of Artemis and the letters IEP (Imhoof-Blumer). note 16
This is what the geographer Strabo says about this place: “Two provinces only have cities. In Tyanitis is Tyana …. at a little distance from this city are Castabala and Cybistra, towns which approach still nearer to the mountain. At Castabala is a temple of Artemis Perasia where it is said the priestesses walk with naked feet unhurt upon burning coals. To this place some persons apply the story respecting Orestes and Artemis Tauropolos and say that the goddess was called Perasia because she was conveyed beyond the sea.” note 17
Two of our inscriptions conclusively prove that the Castabala which Strabo describes was here. One had on it the words ӨЕА ПЕРAΣIA, another found near the temple and the colonnade told us that an honorary statue had been put up “out of the revenue of the divine Perasia”. Furthermore, Ptolemy gives us further assistance in our identification by adding as a note to Hieropolis-Castabala “Perasia prius dicta”. note 18 ‘View Of Colonnaded Street And N Church From Above’. ‘Bodroum’, Bent’s Hieropolis-Castabala, a view from the acropolis by Gertrude Bell (GB/3/1/3/1/131, 18 April 1905, Gertrude Bell Archive, Newcastle University, CC).
Pliny’s statement that Castabala was a city of Cappadocia has led some geographers to think there were two Castabalas where Artemis Perasia was worshipped at some distance from this spot, but our evidence from epigraphy, substantiated by Strabo and Pliny, must conclusively place Hieropolis-Castabala here on the Pyramus and relegate the Cappadocia Castabala to the realms of uncertainty, and furthermore place Tyana and Cybistra in the locality also. Pliny’s geography is not nearly so reliable as that of Strabo and Ptolemy, and Cappadocia was under the Emperors a somewhat elastic term when the areas of the different eparchies were constantly being changed. Groskurd in his translation of Strabo has based an argument on an old Latin edition of Strabo that for Perasia should be read Persica, quite indeed at variance with the context; the argument in question was to maintain the Persian influence of the religion of Asia Minor but now our two inscriptions with the word Perasia upon them show that the current text is correct and rob the German scholar of one of the principal props to his argument. note 19 Several other points of interest are brought to light by our inscriptions, which I have not space to allude to here but I will name two. Out of the revenues of the temple of Artemis Perasia a complimentary stele note 20 was put up to a Roman legate Roscius Pompeius Falco governor of Cilicia, well known previously as a governor of Britain, of Lycia, Pamphylia Judæa and Asia Minor under Trajan and Hadrian, thus forming an interesting historical link between England and Cilicia in these early days. note 21 The second point of interest with regard to Hieropolis-Castabala refers to the itinerary of Alexander the Great. From Soli (Pompeiopolis) by the coast he marched to Pyramus, which he crossed at Mallus and reached Castabala on the second day and sent Parmenio forward to reconnoitre the pass (Curtius iii.7). note 22
Unfortunately, both the Antonine and Jerusalem itineraries are confused on this point, only speaking of a place Catabolo, and most travellers have sought to place Castabala on the coast between Ægæ and Issos. But without any epigraphical evidence this site was, of course, mere conjecture and I think the site of Hieropolis-Castabala may be conclusively taken to be the one Alexander visited for the following reasons. Firstly, it is not in the least likely that there would be two towns of the name Castabala within a space of 20 miles, and, secondly, Hieropolis-Castabala was a place of great strategical importance, being on the ancient main road from Anazarba to the defile behind Osmanieh, which is just across the Pyramus. It must, therefore, have been extremely important for Alexander to ascertain that no enemy from that direction was behind him and from here Parmenio could easily be sent to reconnoitre the pass through which the main road passed. From Castabala, Alexander, having made sure of the country behind him, could safely drop down to the plains at Issos from this point.
I think we may clearly say that the two problems – aliaeCastabalæ [sic], the one in Cappadocia and the one by the coast, may be scratched out of the map and Hieropolis-Castabala on the Pyramus, the modern Bodroum, and certainly one of the most important towns of Eastern Cilicia in antiquity, inserted in their stead. Much of interest would doubtless be brought to light by careful exploration behind Osmanieh, a place which did not exist till 15 years ago, when the robbers who haunted the pass behind it were put down after making the borderland between Syria and Cilicia unapproachable. Years of war resulted in their being quelled and obliged to settle in Osmanieh. note 23
J. Theodore Bent, 13 Great Cumberland Place, W.
Footnotes
Note 1: Mabel Bent records this rather damp visit: “Last night was our second of violent rain and we expect a 3rd. It cleared up in the morning [Saturday, 8 March 1890] and we were off to visit a place called Kerk Kapou, or 40 doors, every window or hole counting as one. It is 2½ hours off. We had not been gone 20 minutes before it began to pour and though we put on our waterproofs we got a good deal of wet in consequence of the wind. My saddle had been put on Theodore’s horse and I had complained after we started of the looseness of the girth, but as there were no more holes it could not be tightened. In cantering it turned. I did not come off, as I hoped someone would come and turn me straight and it was so muddy, but eventually I stepped cleanly down and the saddle was easily straightened, so I reached home in safety.” (Mabel Bent 2006: 294-5) Return from Note 1
Note 2: Modesty prevents Bent from mentioning the reception he received in the convent, as recorded by his wife: “We visited the school of 24 orphans brought up at the expense of the Katholikos… They first sang a long song in Armenian and one of them made a speech in eulogy of Theodore in French, pretty good, and said they were all the better for his unforgettable arrival and should continue permanently to be so. T was spared a response by their instantly striking up a lament over their banished kingdom.” (Mabel Bent 206: 294) Return from Note 2
Note 7: The Bents were in the region at the end of their ride, south-north, through Persia in May 1889. See, e.g., Bent’s ‘In the Mountains of Media’. The Gentleman’s Magazine, Vol. 270 (Feb), 124-39. [Reprinted in Littell’s Living Age, Vol. 189 (1891), 49ff]. The Bents explored Persepolis on the same trip, referenced by Bent earlier. Return from Note 7
Note 8: Mabel Bent’s celebrated lengthy red hair was mostly kept coiled, although she was frequently asked (by women) as she travelled to let them see it. It was a source of wonder. Hogarth (1893) also encounters these Afshars on his expedition a few months later in the Taurus mountains where they spend their summers. For an idea of some of the traditional Afshar costume styles in the wider region, see, e.g., the Textile Research Centre, Leiden, Beyond the chador: Regional dress from Iran: 3. The Turkic lands of Northwestern Iran. Return from Note 8
Note 9: Mabel had already spotted these at Sis and makes a quick sketch of one in her diary. She writes (8 March 1890): “[I] was much interested in some large wooden objects I saw in our yard, just the shape of an oenochoe and asked for what purpose they were used. ‘To bring water but now they bring him in the gasoil’s dish’.” (Mabel Bent 2006: 293). The couple brought an example back with them, from an unknown location, and it is now in the Pitt Rivers Museum, Oxford (1891.4.2.1). For a list of other items the Bents returned with from Cilicia in 1890, see below. Return from Note 9
Note 10: Coincidentally, Davis (1879: 136-7) reported a similar object (at Hemita Kaleh), common enough in the Levant and still to be seen in local folk museums: “Near the door of our hut was one of the native threshing machines. This primitive instrument is a thick piece of pine wood, thickly set on the under side with flint stones, fixed along the grain of the wood (Isaiah xli. 15); on this a man sits and is dragged by a pair of bullocks round and round upon the heap of grain which is to be threshed out.” Bent was conscientious enough to cite the biblical reference; it would be an interesting exercise to see all the overlaps between Bent and Davis. Return from Note 10
Note 11: Modern Kadirli. Here, around the evocative remains of Ala Camii, Bent uncovers one of the mosaics that are now such a feature of the area (see, i.e., Yar and Küçük 2025), and is the first to make the suggestion that the site is ancient Flaviopolis, an identification now generally accepted. Return from Note 11
Note 13: This sentence was added by Bent as a note pinned to p. 11 of his MS. He expands on this in his 1890 article for JHS: “One peculiar architectural feature was noticeable about some of the columns on the higher elevation, a feature which we also noticed in the colonnades of Pompeiopolis and Olba, A narrow drum was let in to the centre of the shafts with a stone bracket made in the same block, presumably to carry a statue with an inscription beneath. This same feature is noticeable also in the long colonnade at Palmyra leading to the temple of the Sun, and would appear to have been a fashionable feature in the Roman architecture of Eastern Asia Minor.’ (Bent 1890: 234. Return from Note 13
Note 14:Heroa (plural of heroon) are ancient Greek or Roman shrines set up to honour and worship a hero, commonly placed directly over their suspected tomb or empty memorial site. Return from Note 14
Note 15: Specifically: “Nos. 14, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 27 and 28. In the ruins of a Christian church we found inscriptions Nos. 28 and 26, and by the side of some columns, which may possibly have been the agora, we found inscription No. 25.” (for these inscriptions, see E.L. Hicks in Bent 1890: 231-54).
Note 16: “The fullest discussion of the question, up to the time of Mr. Bent’s discoveries, is that by [Friedrich] Imhoof-Blumer, ‘Die Münzen von Hieropolis-Kastabala und über die geographische Lage der verschiedenen Kastabala'” [in Zeitschrift für Numismatik, 1883, p. 267], E.L. Hicks in Bent 1890: 243. Return from Note 16
Note 18: The two inscriptions referred to are Nos. 16 and 17; see E.L. Hicks in Bent 1890: 246-7. ‘Perasia prius dicta’ – Bent makes reference to this again in his JHS article (Bent 1890: 235); he is apparently citing a rare, 1605 Greek-Latin edition of Ptolemy’s Geographia (featuring Mercator’s original plates (1578) and edited by Petrus Montanus), only Bent gives the place of publication as Frankfort [sic], not Amsterdam (the publishers being Jodocus Hondius and Cornelis Claesz). Return from Note 18
.
Note 19: Pliny the Elder, Natural History, VI.3.8. Christoph Gottlieb Groskurd (1770-1834) published his edition of Strabo’s Geography in Berlin between 1831-1834. Return from Note 19
Note 20: This is inscription No. 28; see E.L. Hicks in Bent 1890: 253-4. Return from Note 20
This sentence was one of Bent’s afterthoughts; he pinned it to page 1 of his MS on a small square of paper. Return from Note 20
Note 22: ‘Igitur edito spectaculo ludicro castrisque motis et Pyramo amne ponte iuncto ad urbem Mallum pervenit, inde alteris castris ad oppidum Catabolum.’ Curtius 3.7, Histories of Alexander the Great (covering his events 333 BCE in Asia Minor. Return from Note 22
Note 23: Bent added a note below his last line: “Speak of Report on Olba and nomads”, presumably reminding himself to refer to the couple’s other exploration focus that 1890 season – Western Cilicia – which he presented and published separately (‘Explorations in Cilicia Tracheia’, Proceedings of the Royal Geographical Society and Monthly Record of Geography, Vol. 12 (8) (Aug. 1890), 445-63. Bent’s MS for this is also in the RGS Archive, London. Bent’s handwriting is neat, suggesting it was a fair copy intended for the printers, rather than for him to read from at the lectern, but one cannot tell.
Some background to the Bents in Cilicia, Türkiye, in 1890
The RGS Manuscripts
Bent submitted manuscripts to the Royal Geographical Society, London, covering the two parts of the couple’s Cilician adventures in 1890. One ‘Explorations in Cilicia Tracheia’ was read out and published by the RGS in 1890, but the other, the topic of this present article, was not. The paper was instead read by Bent, on 8 September 1890, at the Leeds meeting of the Geographical Section of the British Association. This is referenced in the RGS Proceedings (Vol.12, 1890, p. 671), which notes that “This paper will be published in a subsequent number of the ‘Proceedings’”. This never happened – although Bent did use sections of it in some other articles that year (see the list of Bent’s writings on the region below) – one reason perhaps being that the explorer was imminently to become even busier than usual. A summons from Cecil Rhodes that Autumn made him drop everything and he and Mabel spent the last months of 1890 preparing for their campaign to Great Zimbabwe; the focus of their lives was to change radically… far from Asia Minor.
Cilicia, 1890
‘My Seventh Chronicle Rugged Cilicia 1890.’ The opening page of Mabel Bent’s notebook covering her journey with her husband to east and west Cilicia, spring 1890 (Hellenic Society, London, CC).
Having spent their 1887 season excavating on the then Turkish island of Thasos, the Bents hoped to soon return, but were thwarted by Istanbul museum director Hamdi Bey. Instead, for their 1888 explorations, they hired a fine schooner and drifted at ease from the Cyclades to Kastellorizo and back. One must add that by this time the celebrity explorers were regularly running into difficulties with the Turkish authorities (more on this later) and so for 1889 they took themselves off to Bahrain, which was under ‘British Protection’, i.e. they could dig at will, riding home part of the way, south-north, through Persia… as you do.
The cruise along the Turkish coast was so enjoyable, and promising archaeologically, that they returned for 1890. Essentially, what drove the Bents to southern Türkiye again was the challenge of certain ‘lost’ classical sites. On their way out in early 1890, in Athens, Mabel sees a “circular from the Hellenic Society requesting us to subscribe to an Expedition of exploration in Cilicia, to be headed by Mr. Ramsay [one of the regional specialists, Sir William Mitchell Ramsay] to start in June. ‘It is most desirable that the site of Olba should be discovered and identified.’ So I declared that we would look for Olba too.” (Mabel Bent 2006: 274). Typical Mabel this.
In early 1890 Ramsay was in the final stages (having it seems lost the initial draft – his ‘sketch’) of getting his great work The Historical Geography of Asia Minor (1890) to press, it being based on a series of arduous treks in the region in the mid 1880s. The work’s opening ‘General Principles’ section is still a commanding read. It seems Ramsay was holding off in part to see what the Bents might discover. He added a final note (p. 22) in his prologue after Bent had published (and some academic rivalry can perhaps be adduced): “… Mr. Bent discards Kastabala of Cappadocia entirely, and infers from Strabo that Tyana and Kybistra were in Cilicia near Kastabala. I adhere to all that I have written: my opinions were in print months before Mr. Bent travelled, and I consider them confirmed entirely by his brilliant discoveries.” Prof. Ramsay gives no source for his ‘opinions’ and neither, oddly, does Bent refer to them in his article. The site is indicated on Ramsay’s map (1890: 330) and speculated upon in his text (1890: 343-3). In May 1886, Ramsay read the first sketch of it before the RGS, and he tells us (1890: 3) “[it] was practically complete… when I read considerable extracts from it before the Aberdeen branch of the Royal Scottish Geographical Society [27 February 1888].” Neither of these presentations seem to have been published.
On 20 December 1890, Bent writes from his townhouse in Great Cumberland Place to Henry Walter Bates at the Royal Geographical Society: “Dear Mr Bates, [is] Ramsay’s book on Asia Minor out yet? I am most anxious to see an early copy for the completion of my Olba work… Our time is getting short now for other than Mashonaland work. Yours very truly, J. Theodore Bent.” (Royal Geographical Society Archive).
Henry Walter Bates FRS FLS FGS (1825-1892) (Wikipedia).
(H.W. Bates (1825-1892) was at that time in the last years of an extraordinary life and the abruptness of Bent’s letter jars somewhat – after all, this is the naturalist who spent 11 years in the Amazon region, seven as companion of Alfred Russell Wallace. Bates’ account, The Naturalist on the River Amazons (1863), is treasured. He spent his latter years as executive secretary at the Royal Geographical Society, responding to such letters as Bent’s. Wallace’s obituary of him (Nature 45(1165): 398-9), according to his Wikipedia entry, laments that “confinement and constant strain” of “mere drudgery of office work” for the Royal Geographical Society had with “little doubt… weakened his constitution and shortened a valuable life”.)
Olba was identified (discovery and identification being different achievements) in western – ‘Rough’ – Cilicia. The region inland from the south-western coast of Türkiye was divided in ancient times: to the west, Cilicia Trachea (‘rough’ or ‘rugged’), a mountainous region bounded by Mount Taurus; and to the east Cilicia Pedias (‘flat’), with its rivers and vast plains, not all fertile. Historically, the importance of Cilicia lay in its position either side of a great highway, accessing the East, which ran down from the Anatolian plateau to Tarsus and on through Syria into Asia and northwest along the coast to the Bosphorus and Europe. This highway passed through the dreadful gorge of the ‘Cilician Gate’ (and hence the region’s strategic importance when invaded by Darius, Alexander, et al.
The Bents and their considerable amount of gear, including Mabel’s cameras and image processing materials (see below), arrive at the port of Mersina/Mersin, their gateway to the region, on Monday, 3 February 1890 -“Very soon the porters bearing the 23 packages arrived. They were a wild looking lot of things, stove, table, chairs, beds, etc., and we had these to unpack and rearrange everything. I did not go out all day.” (Mabel Bent 2006: 276). Mabel Bent’s Chronicle, from which all her quotations here are taken (see references), helps us put approximate dates to the couple’s 1890 trek; it can be divided into three phases: (1) From Mersin, a first exploration of the Lamas region; (2) the journey via Sis to the site of Hieropolis-Castabala; and (3) a second attempt at the Lamas and the successful identification of Olba.
On the voyage out, the couple, arriving at Patras in the last week of January 1890, transferred to Athens, where they were joined by their regular dragoman, the Anafiot Manthaios Simos. Once ready, they then embarked from Pirea on Friday, 31 January for Smyrna, catching another boat soon afterwards which took them to Mersin, far south down the Turkish coast, arriving late Monday, 3 February. Having rested, they then rode northwards along the coast to access the Lamas Valley, and the Olba region. Following a furious and potentially dangerous contretemps with the governor of Silifka (21 February), the Bents, wisely, decide to postpone their work in the area and return to Mersin (26 February 1890).
The cemetery at ‘Sarageshed’ (Saygeçit, 37.245579, 35.625826), 25 km southwest of Kozan, near where the Bents spent a troubled night on 5 March 1890 (Google Maps).
The celebrity explorers next head north-east, via Tarsus and Adana, to Sis (modern Kozan), reaching there on 6 March. They were obliged to spend a night on the road some 25 km south-west of Sis, as Mabel records (2006: 291-2): “We had to leave the road about a mile to reach a little village (Sarageshed)… We passed through a horrid cemetery… I was quite worn out and aching with fatigue. [The next day we] had to ride 6 hours to Sis… I flung myself on the ground with my head on my little camera and was very nearly asleep when Theodore’s voice, sounding very far off, invited me to eat a bit of cake with some wine, all we had, that we might not stop again.” The khan at modern Saygeçit (west of İmamoğlu) in which they camped no longer exists, but the ‘horrid cemetery’ clearly shows on Google Maps. (The occasions over almost 20 years of travel when we hear Mabel refer to exhaustion are not worth the bother of counting.) We can make allowances, therefore, when she adds: “Sis is one of those odious places which hide themselves behind mountains and round corners till the last minute…” (2006: 292).
A few days later (10 March), the party rides south some hours to the Afshar settlement at Anazarba (Anazarbus). (Nearly 20 years later Gertrude Bell is to visit the same site, but, disliking Mabel, she makes no mention in her diaries of the Bents; her photographs, however, are spectacular and several grace these pages. Mabel was never so successful with her photography, her ‘little’ camera has just been referred to. For this topic, see later.) The Bents were there three days investigating, living in a traditional reed hut, before (13 March) making their way east the short distance to ‘Kars Bazaar’ (modern Kadirli) for a two-day stay. Here, around the evocative remains of Ala Camii, Bent uncovers one of the mosaics that are now such a feature of the area, and is the first to make the suggestion that the site is ancient Flaviopolis, an identification now generally accepted. On 15 March they ride, via Hemita Kaleh (Hemite Kalesi) to their primary target, the extensive remains at ‘Bodroum/Boudroum’ (c. 2.5 km north of modern Kesmeburun), which Bent identifies as Hierapolis-Castabala. The couple spend four days here, leaving on Wednesday 19 March, reaching Mersin again, via Tarsus, on 22 March 1890. At Tarsus they make the acquaintance of eminent orientalist Dr Paul G.A. Schröder (1844-1915), en route from Beirut, and the only scholar they encounter on this trip (Mabel Bent 2006: 304).
A scene the Bents would have been familiar with. A Yoruk encampment in an unknown location. Unidentified photographer. ‘Popular Science Monthly’ Vol. 43, Public Domain, Wikipedia).
Refreshed, the group begin a second attempt at identifying the extensive remains of Olba (Uzuncaburç), with monuments spaced over several kilometres, up the Lamas Valley, arriving in the heart of the complex on 28 March; their success there obliges even the gruff David Hogarth (1893: 654) to admit that the Bent’s Olba discoveries amounted to ‘a veritable Pompeii, many miles in extent’. (Bent’s highly unscientific approach to excavating in the region has provided another occasion for critics to deplore his methods.) In all, the Bents were nearly three weeks on this important part of their 1890 expedition, rough-camping among Yoruk tribes in this remote region, not returning to Mersin until 17 April. Fully recovered, in the company of local ex-pats, Mabel writes: “on Sunday afternoon [27 April] we said farewell to our kind entertainers” (Mabel Bent 2006: 319). Various steamers then returned the Bents to England by the second week of May 1890.
Unbeknownst to the explorers, the abovementioned issue with the governor of Selefka had developed so seriously that the HBM Consular staff at Adana wrote on 9 April asking them to curtail their activities (local officers had again been monitoring their activities and reported back) (Mabel Bent 2006: 308 ff). Mabel confides to her diary at the end of April: “But on our return to Mersina we found a letter, which it had not been possible to forward to us, which would have done away with all the good of our leaving England” (Mabel Bent 2006: 320). Had this letter reached the Bents in the wilds of Uzuncaburç they would have had to abandon their mission forthwith; they were extremely lucky not to have been seized by the Turkish authorities on the spot.
Private – Adana, April 9, 1890.
Dear Mr. Bent,
The Governor General, having received information that you are revisiting the same places you had already visited some time ago on the road to Selefka, and that you are taking photos or plans of the various places, requests me to make you acquainted with the fact that the taking of photos or plans of the places is not allowed without the special permission of the government.
His Excellency therefore requests me to invite you in a very polite manner to discontinue from taking photos, etc., as above mentioned. Complying with His Excellency’s request, I ask leave to add that it would be better if you came back to Mersina in order to avoid any possible troubles with subaltern officials.
The best way to continue your scientific investigations unmolested is, in my opinion, to request His Excellency, Sir William White, to obtain for you from the ministry at Constantinople the required permission. [signed] N.J. Christmann.
One of only two paper prints known to date from the work of Mabel Bent. This from the Lamas Valley region, Cilicia, around the 12 February 1890 (The Hellenic Society, London).
By way of a ‘PS’, one might add that Bent’s problems with the Sublime Porte date from 1883, when, after visiting Chios, Bent criticised the authorities for their treatment of the islanders following a series of disastrous earthquakes – they neither forgot nor forgave. Christmann might have been more relieved had he known that of all Mabel’s photographs of the Cilicia expedition, only two prints have surfaced, only a few processed images appeared in Bent’s articles (see references below).
Essential for the wider region is E.J. Davis, Life in Asiatic Turkey: A Journal of Travel in Cilicia, etc…. (London, 1879), an account of his travels in 1875, and surely kept in one of the Bents’ saddlebags as they traversed the same area. A travel writer of real skill, Davis’ account is still an evocative read. See also, e.g., Michael Gough, ‘Anazarbus’, Anatolian Studies, Vol. 2 (1952), pp. 85-150 and two publications by Richard Bayliss, ‘The Alacami in Kadirli: Transformations of a Sacred Monument’, Anatolian Studies, Vol. 47 (1997), pp. 57-87 and Provincial Cilicia and the Archaeology of Temple Conversion (British Archaeological Reports International Series 1281), Oxford, 2004. Also The Bents at Olba, Spring 1890.
Theodore Bent 1890. ‘Recent Discoveries in Eastern Cilicia’. The Journal of Hellenic Studies, Vol. 11, 231-54 (includes E.L. Hicks, ‘Inscriptions from Eastern Cilicia’).
David George Hogarth 1893. Modern and Ancient Roads in Eastern Asia Minor, co-authored with J.A.R. Munro (Vol. 3.5, Royal Geographical Society Supplementary Papers). London: John Murray. (Hogarth was another lion of the region with a distinguished career. His relationship with the Bents was mixed. He followed them over certain routes a little later in 1890, making several references and classifying (p. 654) their Olba discoveries ‘a veritable Pompeii, many miles in extent’.)
N.M. Yar and C. Küçük 2025. Kadirli Ala Mosque Mosaics and Museum, in R.A. Castanho, T. Pivac and A. Mandić (eds) Legacy and Innovation (CST 2023. Advances in Science, Technology & Innovation). Cham: Springer. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-59325-3_4
The Bents’ acquisitions from Cicilica (1890) in the Pitt Rivers Museum, Oxford
Bent read History at Wadham College Oxford in the early 1870s and was happy to donate (or sell) to the Pitt Rivers Museum (now only a few hundred metres up the road from Wadham) certain items the couple collected on their travels. Broadly speaking, traditional artefacts they collected in the 1880s were offered to the PRM, whereas the majority of all acquisitions from the 1890s went to the British Museum (e.g. the Great Zimbabwe material, 1891), apart from a couple of objects from the couple’s last trip (Socotra 1897) that found their way to the PRM after Bent’s death in May 1897.
From the Bents’ explorations within Cilicia (Türkiye) in 1890, the PRM has the following objects (not often on display), some can be given a possible provenance. (The items are not illustrated here, but may be seen via their site):
PRM1891.4.2.1: Wooden mortar/vessel decorated with concentric and incised swirls. A vertical carved flange runs down one side and is perforated. Shown on the same page is its large, leather stopper (PRM1891.4.2.2). (Such objects are mentioned by both the Bents in their writings; Mabel makes a doodle of one in her diary (illustrated above), perhaps the very pot now in the PRM, and thus from Sis.)
PRM1891.4.1.1. End flute and carved wood case (PRM1891.4.12), ornamented with woolen tassels and sling. (The Bents were fascinated by flutes of all kinds and returned from most of their trips with examples in all shapes and sizes.)
PRM1891.4.5: Coffee ladle or spoon. Coffee-roaster of iron with incised ornament and double folding handle. Copper alloy bands decorate the handle. (On the Silifka road Mabel Bent writes in her diary (10 April 1890): “While our tent was being prepared I was sitting in another where the mistress made the greatest haste to get coffee for me. She took a basket to the fire in which she had all the implements. There were a bag of coffee-beans, a folding pan in which she roasted them, a pretty wooden tray, with a spout in which she put them to cool, and a carved wooden mortar, very thick and with little space inside. It was closed with a leather lid with a great blob of leather inside to keep dust out…” (Mabel Bent 2006: 314-4). These may well be the items in the PRM today, i.e. with the ‘mortar’ and ‘lid’ (PRM1891.4.2.1 and 2 above) and ‘cooler’ (PRM1891.4.7 below).
PRM1891.4.7: Wooden coffee cooler, consisting of circular vessel, with handle on one side and protruding rectangular hole on the other. Decorated with incised patterning on inside and outside of vessel.
PRM1891.4.6: Youruk spindle of wood with curved cross pieces for a whorl.
PRM1891.4.4: Set of three finger caps or reaping gloves of wood. Davis (1879: 173) also notes these at Adana: “When engaged in cutting the grain the reaper wears a wooden defence, like a finger-stall, on several fingers of the left hand. When not in use, it is usually hung by a thong to his belt.”
PRM1891.4.3: Sickle with very long metal blade set into a cylindrical wooden handle. The blade has incised decoration on one face.
Mabel Bent’s photography in Cilicia 1890
‘Mrs Bent and her Camera’. A portrait by Russell & Sons, London, presumably with one of her stand cameras (pre 1895) (The British Library).
Some 15 years after the Bents visited Cilicia (spring 1890), Gertrude Bell followed in some of their footsteps (spring 1905); she had with her her camera, and the results are a unique resource. Mabel Bent had been delegated expedition photographer in 1885 (for the Dodecanese programme) but it has to be admitted that the task was a struggle for her – although, as with everything she did, she applied herself tirelessly (see elsewhere on this site).
For Cilicia 1890, despite all her efforts (with two cameras – a ‘small’ Luzo and a large stand apparatus), today we have only two (paper) prints and a few images in Theodore Bent’s articles that were adapted from his wife’s original material. (There was a set of 20 lantern slides held by the Royal Geographical Society but, very unfortunately, “[this] collection was destroyed on 9th February 1951 as it had faded.” Today, they could perhaps have been salvaged in some way.)
The best we can do, therefore, is compile a ‘virtual’ album from the many references to Anatolian photography Mabel Bent has left us in her 1890 Chronicle. You are asked to imagine late 19th-century Asia Minor in black and white (the dates are approximate; for the page numbers, see Mabel Bent 2006):
Patras, 24 January 1890. Mabel’s photographic anxieties begin directly the Bents arrive at the Patras customshouse at the start of their onward journeys to distant Mersin, southern Türkiye: “At last I said, ‘I will not allow these things to be opened except in a place with red light, such as you no doubt have to open photographic things in, like in all large European stations’. ‘Red light!’ was exclaimed by all, and they all departed still saying, ‘Kokino phos!’ and presently returned and the officer begged our pardon humbly…” (p. 270)
Mersin, 5 February 1890. The Bents are residing with the Dillon family, head of the regional railway: “I photographed the drawing room” (p. 276)
Lamas Valley, 10 February 1890. The Bents are looking for the unidentified site of Olba: “High up we saw traces of an aqueduct cut. How they got up there we could not imagine and on a rock we saw a bas-relief which I tried to photograph with my little camera in the rain. Very luckily as it turned out it was too dull to take out the big one…” (p. 278)
Lamas Valley, 10 February 1890. The Bents continue looking for the unidentified site of Olba: “When the acrobatic work of the epigraphist was over, that of the photographer began. Only a goat could photograph comfortably. Theodore leant hard against a tree, once he moved and it knocked me down… The legs of the camera were held on little cairns and I positively ached when it was over. Another photo I did kneeling with my legs over the edge of a rock about 4 feet high…” (p. 282)
Lamas Valley, 18 February 1890. The Bents continue looking for the unidentified site of Olba: “We went more eastward this time, also down one valley and up another. I rode the little donkey nearly all the way. The place we went to was very pretty and filled with tombs, towers, temples of polygonal masonry. We found from a very tremendously large and puzzling inscription that the name of the place must have been Sabbatia. We were very busy with measurements, squeezes and photography and had a most pleasant day…” (p. 284)
Lamas Valley, 19 February 1890. The Bents continue looking for the unidentified site of Olba. Mabel displays due diligence: “’How can I eat till I have taken my photographs?’ I responded. ‘The sun will be off by the time we have done.’ Of course, I cannot photograph unattended as I have to be held…” (p. 285)
Lamas Valley, a Yoruk encampment, 19 February 1890. The Bents continue looking for the unidentified site of Olba. Never work with small children or animals: “When we passed in the morning I took the portrait of a tiny camel, 24 hours old. It looked so funny tied up in a coat; a handkerchief was put over his nose, crossed under his chin and tied round his neck. The first question, ‘Why?’ only received the answer, ‘It is the custom’. The second, to prevent the cold getting down its throat into its inside…” (p. 285)
A café on the Silifke road, 21 February 1890. The Bents (in the wrong) have a close encounter with the local chief official (mutesarrif): “‘Very well,’ I said. ‘You will inform yourself better before you take English prisoners next time.’ So I whisked round my horse and turned my back on him and without goodbye we rode off, visibly laughing at him. I took his photograph…” (p. 288)
Tarsus, 26 February 1890. The Bents are socializing along the coast from Mersin, to Tarsus, to Adana. In Tarsus, Mabel’s parea reveal an old stand camera and ask her to help resurrect it: “I superintended the unpacking of a beautiful camera which for 2 years has been suffering from the ravages of mice and damp; great ruin was the result. I put it together, explained the various parts, and today there is to be a little practice…” (p. 290)
Mersin, 1 March 1890. Every photographer’s nightmare – unwanted daylight. Mabel’s assistant spoils all their plates from their first venture into the Lamas Valley: “Alas! I believe that all my photographs taken hitherto are spoilt. I gave them to be held in safety in the dark room by my pupil, but when I asked for them he had changed them to a safer place outside!” (p. 290)
Sis, 9 March 1890. It appears the unidentified ‘pupil’ above was dismissed and Elias, another member of the team fresh from Adana, would assist: “I believe Elias has been brought and as he understands attending on the photography… I am glad.” (p. 295)
Sis, 9 March 1890. Mabel repays her hosts’ hospitality by taking a group portrait: “The Family was very desirous of being photographed, so next morning I did a group of 11. Great were the preparations. Loose gowns were put off by the men and European trousers put on. Best gaudy clothes were put on by the ladies instead of their stockings, and more was thought of necklaces than of washing the legs.” (p. 295)
Hieropolis-Castabala, 18 March 1890. The Bents have been on the move from Sis, exploring Anazarba and Kars Bazaar (Kadirli). Presumably Mabel took photographs but none are recorded in her diary. Later, camped at their goal, Bodroum (Hieropolis-Castabala), the photographer is again busy: “We only worked half today, finishing up with photography and measurements…” (p. 303)
The Olba region, 30 March 1890. The Bents are again high up and westwards of the Lamas Valley. They succeed where others failed in identifying the site of Olba (Bent’s ‘Pompeii’ according to David Hogarth). Mabel is back working: “I took some photos and some measurements were done…” (p. 306)
Silifke region, 16 April 1890. ‘Rough Cilicia’ lived up to its name in many places, frequently asking difficult questions of the photographer. Here Mabel is at the great sinkholes of Cennet and Cehennem near Silifke: “It is a truly awful place, quite terrifying in fact. It is quite inaccessible… It is surrounded by stalactites. I did not see the bottom. I was six feet from the edge… I feel as if I should like to have my camera tied before I try to photograph it.” (p. 318)
Tarsus, 17 April 1890. The Bents are preparing to return to England and call in on their friends in Tarsus to say goodbye. It is an opportunity for a last (and lost) portrait: “I tried to start Mrs. Jennanyan with photography and we had very bad luck with the weather so cloudy and even rainy. Once I had got the whole of the Jennanyan family placed, 8 grownups and a baby, it rained. I was nearly wild! But it was hard to get them all together, so I ventured and did 2 and both were good, but that in one the babe and mother were blurs, but all our efforts were successful.” (p. 319)
43 Great Cumberland Place, the Bents’ first London home in the early 1880s (Wikipedia).
By 1878, after their extended honeymoon in Italy (they wed in August 1877), Theodore and Mabel Bent acquired the lease of a modest but fine townhouse at No. 43 Great Cumberland Place, owned by the Portman Estate.
To further his career as explorer and would-be anthropologist, Bent needed a London base and where better than the area around Marble Arch (just a brisk walk to and from the Reform Club, where Phileas Fogg – a role Theodore Bent might easily have played – hurriedly embarked on his journey around the world on 2 October 1872. By the end of 1884 the couple had moved up the road, nearer the iconic Arch, to a larger property at No. 13, on the corner of Great Cumberland Place and Bryanston Street. Bent died there in 1897 and Mabel in 1929.
At the time of her marriage, London’s finer districts were very familiar to Mabel Bent (née Hall-Dare), her wealthy parents (Essex gentry on her father’s side) having occupied various properties in Victoria’s capital in the mid 19th century. The nation’s capital was rather less familiar to her husband, Theodore Bent, born in Liverpool (1852) and raised near Bradford. (The Bents kept a country property 320 km or so north-west of London, just outside of Macclesfield, at Sutton Hall, now an enjoyable hostelry.)
The Bents and the Portman Estate’s properties in Great Cumberland Place
Thanks to the kind researches of Georgina Rowley, Archivist and Records Manager at the Portman Estate, we can share more information on the Bents’ two homes in Great Cumberland Place – Nos 43 and 13. (It takes little imagination to see our celebrity explorers leaving from and returning to their front door together over a period of some 20 years. After May 1897, Mabel would come and go alone. She retained the lease on No. 13 until her death in July 1929.)
43 Great Cumberland Place
43 Great Cumberland Place used to be called 24 Great Cumberland Street, until it was renamed and renumbered in 1868. The mews street to the rear of 43 Great Cumberland Place is called Wythburn Place (previously known as Wythburn Mews, and before that, Cumberland Mews North). 2-4 Wythburn Place was included in the lease for 43 Great Cumberland Place on several occasions. In the 1830s, on the other side of this set of streets was a paper manufactory, bounded by Adams Street and Upper George Street (see P/E 1/11/6 p. 25); by 1888 this factory space was being used as a coach and harness manufactory. This property is quite unusual, because part of it was an overhanging floor that makes up the entrance to Wythburn Place, which is still there today.
Ground floor plan (1868) of 43 Great Cumberland Place (P/E 1/11/7/2 p. 171 Reproduced by kind permission of the Portman Estate Trustees).Block plan for 43 Great Cumberland Place (P/E1/11/6, p. 25) (Reproduced by kind permission of the Portman Estate Trustees).Detail of an 1888 street map, the arrow showing 43 Great Cumberland Place (Reproduced by kind permission of the Portman Estate Trustees).Detail from a bomb damage plan of the area of 43 Great Cumberland Place after WW2. The yellow shading indicating minor blast damage. Fortunately, the property survives today very much as the Bents would recognize it (Reproduced by kind permission of the Portman Estate Trustees).
13 Great Cumberland Place
13 Great Cumberland Place used to be called 13 Great Cumberland Street, until it was renamed and renumbered in 1868. The same London bomb map referred to above shows that by 1941 it had suffered minor blast damage, but most likely later on in the war the property was badly damaged further.
Page 54 of The Portman Estate’s ‘Red Book South’ showing (underlined in yellow) Mabel Bent’s 23-year lease of 13 Great Cumberland Place at an annual rate of £150 (c. £25,000 in 2026), expiring, traditionally, ‘Lady Day’ 1921 (reproduced by kind permission of the Portman Estate Trustees).The huge building erected on the extensive plot that previously included the Bents’ former townhouse (on the corner of Bryanston St) at 13 Great Cumberland Place which was destroyed in WW2. The photo is dated c. 1957 (Reproduced by kind permission of the Portman Estate Trustees).Plan of 13 Great Cumberland Place to accompany the lease dated 29 December 1897 on behalf of Mabel Bent/executors of Theodore Bent who died in May of that year (P/E 1/11/7/6, p.30; Reproduced by kind permission of the Portman Estate Trustees).Detail from a pre-1880 map when Great Cumberland Place was still a ‘street’. No. 13 is arrowed (Reproduced by kind permission of the Portman Estate Trustees).Initial plan showing minor bomb damage to 13 Great Cumberland Place. Further raids destroyed it completely (Reproduced by kind permission of the Portman Estate Trustees).
Damage to Great Cumberland Place during the WW2 air raids on London
London’s Marble Arch, a symbol of Empire and permanence in the minds of the Bents as they travelled, a feature they would have seen every day when in the capital, made a prime target for the bombing raids over London in WW2. Ironically, it survived, although the Bents’ museum-home at 13 Great Cumberland Place, just 200m or so from the monument, was destroyed. Arguably the most severe damage to the area occurred during the so-called ‘Longest Night‘ of 10-11 May 1941, when hundreds of German planes dropped their explosives on the capital. Mabel Bent, at least, was spared that trauma, having died at 13 Great Cumberland Place on 3 July 1929.
WW2 Bomb damage in the area of Great Cumberland Place (Reproduced by kind permission of the Portman Estate Trustees).WW2 Bomb damage in the area of Great Cumberland Place (Reproduced by kind permission of the Portman Estate Trustees).
The Bents’ dining room, 13 Great Cumberland Place, London, a unique, if grainy, image illustrated in ‘The Gentlewoman’, No. 175, Vol. VII, 11 November 1893.
Interested in some original 19th-century books and articles (not modern digital reprints) published by the Bents? The following are currently available from the Bent Archive.
Contact us for prices and details/photos: info@thebentarchive.com
Original articles (not modern copies)
J. Theodore Bent, ‘The City of the Creed’. The Fortnightly Review, Vol. 53 (47) (Feb, 1890), 220-300. Bound original article, no illustrations, no map. (Link is to an alternative edition.)
J. Theodore Bent, ‘Explorations in Cilicia Tracheia’. Proceedings of the Royal Geographical Society and Monthly Record of Geography, Vol. 12 (8) (Aug,1890), 445-463. Original article in paper sleeve, illustrations, and fold-out map. Map has a slight tear to the margin. (Link is to an alternative edition.)
J. Theodore Bent, ‘The Ruins of Mashonaland, and Explorations in the Country’. Proceedings of the Royal Geographical Society and Monthly Record of Geography, Vol. 14 (5) (May, 1892), 273-298. Bound original article, illustrations, and 2 fold-out maps. (Link is to an alternative edition.)
J. Theodore Bent, ‘The Ancient Trade Route across Ethiopia’. The Geographical Journal, Vol. 2 (2) (Aug, 1893), 140-146. Bound original article, with map on page 141.
J. Theodore Bent, ‘The Hadramut: A Journey in Southern Arabia’. The Nineteenth Century, Vol. 36 (211) (Sept, 1894), 419-437. Bound original article, no illustrations, no map. (Link is to an alternative edition.)
J. Theodore Bent, ‘Expedition to the Hadramut’. The Geographical Journal, Vol. 4 (4) (Oct, 1894), 315-331. Bound original article, with illustration and loose, fold-out map.
J. Theodore Bent, ‘The Island of Socotra’. The Nineteenth Century, Vol. 41 (244) (June, 1897), 975-992. Bound original article, no illustrations, no map (published posthumously). (Link is to an alternative edition.)
Mrs J. Theodore Bent, ‘Exploration in the Yafei and Fadhli Countries’. The Geographical Journal, Vol. 12 (1) (July, 1898), 41-63. Bound original article, with illustrations and loose, fold-out map. The map has a slight tear.
Books (nb the links may take you to other versions of these titles and are for information only)
Aegean Islands. The Cyclades or Life Among the Insular Greeks, Theodore Bent, introduction by A.N. Oikonimides, his well-regarded 1996 version of Bent’s classic 1885 account. Published by Argonaut, Chicago. This was the first modern reprint.
The Ruined Cities of Mashonaland, Theodore Bent, 1902 reprint for Boots Library, Longman’s Green & Co., London (condition fair). First edition 1892.
Southern Arabia, Theodore and Mabel Bent, 1994 reprint published by Garnet Publishing, edited by Robin Bidwell. Reprint of the Bents’ original 1900 publication by Smith, Elder & Co.
Jerusalem. The Garden Tomb Golgatha and The Garden of the Resurrection, revised by Mabel Bent and Caroline Hussey, no date (1920s) (First published in 1892 by Arthur William Crawley-Boevey and the Committee of the Garden Tomb Maintenance fund).
Slaughter as high art. The Pylos Combat Agate, c. 1450-1500 BCE, length: 3.6 cm, Pylos Archaeological Museum (Wikipedia).
Celebrity-explorers Theodore and Mabel Bent didn’t excavate in the Greek Peloponnese in the 1880s – they would never have been given permits.
The recent state-of-the-art excavations and discoveries at the ‘Griffin Warrior’ tomb, Pylos, Peloponnese, and the present (June 2026) exhibition of its spectacular finds in Athens, give a chance to reflect on the methods employed elsewhere in the Aegean by the Bents in the 1880s: the island of Karpathos (Dodecanese), for instance (and professional archaeologists might like to look away at this point).
The Aegean: Vroukountas, Karpathos, indicated (ToposText).
The Bents were on Karpathos after 5 March until before 21 April 1885, some seven weeks, arriving from Tilos (where they found little, camping, ironically, in the old monastery that now acts as bulwark to the new museum, on whose information panels they, inexplicably, go unmentioned).
The couple ride far and wide over Karpathos, before reaching the distant north-western tip and the once notable city of Vrykous (modern Vroukountas (various spellings) [35.80167678950954, 27.16483337973251]). A site busy with people from neolithic times to the 19th century CE, it was one of the island’s important centres in antiquity (see, e.g., Nigel McGilchrist’s imaginative treatment, in McGilchrist’s Greek Islands #16: Southern Dodecanese: Astypalaia, Tilos, Karpathos, Kasos, Kastellorizo (London, 2011).
Βρυκο͂ς – Brykous, polis near Ag. Marina, north of Avlona, Karpathos, Dodecanese (ToposText).
Arriving from Olympos, via today’s Avlona, the Bent party camped at Vroukountas between 30 March and 2 April 1885, pitching a tent, typically topped with a ‘Union Jack’ it seems, in the level area directly in front of what is now referred to as the cave-church of St John – a strange sight for modern August festival-goers to contemplate no doubt: the Bents washed themselves in the cave’s stone basins and struggled with an unruly tent; their long-suffering dragoman, Mathew Simos from Anafi (in the Cyclades, not very far away to the west) slept outside…
Unaware of these campers, McGilchrist (see above) describes the setting: “At the northern extremity of the promontory, steps lead down into a spacious natural cave deep within the headland… To the left was the spring which served the settlement in antiquity; it is possible that the sanctuary of the Nymphs was here, from which a relief showing Hermes and the Nymphs, formerly immured in the forecourt of the Church of the Koimisis in Olympos, once came. The cave is now organised as the shrine of Aghios Ioannis Theologos, whose screen, font and altar are all composed of various ancient spolia.”
“Proceeding along the cliff we found tombs of every possible description, single chambers, double chambers, tombs one over the other, tombs with steps above them cut in the rock, as if for ornamentation, but the most frequent and those which we found the least disturbed were those constructed like this plan…” (Bent, J.T. 1885: 237. Bent would have sketched the plan in his site log, now lost).
Forty-two years after Ludwig Ross (Ross 1845) had visited the island, without reaching Vroukountas due to bad weather, Bent wrote a lengthy article on his researches for The Journal of Hellenic Studies (1885, Vol. VI: 233-242) and sets the scene: “Brykountios was apparently the most considerable town during both the earlier and later occupations, and as it was situated at the extreme north of Karpathos, about two hours distant from the Elympos, and several days’ journey from the Konak, we were able to pitch our tent there and excavate unmolested… The chief interest connected with the pottery I brought back is that it is the first to come from Karpathos and from these rock-cut tombs. But the tombs themselves were extremely interesting, and the great variety of periods of pottery found in close juxtaposition would suggest that the graves had been used again and again, just as the graves of the Karpathiotes [are] now…” (Bent, J.T. 1885: 236, 237) (Bent kept notebooks of his researches but unfortunately they all seem to have been lost apart from those of his final journey to Socotra and Aden in 1897.)
(Two further interesting characters besides Ross can be introduced here: the swashbuckling Charles Thomas Newton (see later below), who never visited but acquired important Roman antiquities from Karpathos now in the British Museum; and the aristocratic William Roger Paton, Bent’s friend, who did explore the island’s southern region a year or so after the Bents and acquired fine Mycenaean wares there, also now in the BM (Paton 1887; 1889)
Mabel Bent’s account of their stay at Vroukountas, before Easter 1885
Mabel Bent devotes several pages in her ‘Chronicles’ to what was clearly a happy stay at this campsite, which included Theodore’s 33rd birthday, some notable finds, a few memorable meals, and the arrival of family letters (with belated news of the death of General Charles Gordon at Khartoum on 26 January 1885).
Mabel begins her account:
“You must excuse these smudges as I am sitting cross-legged on Theodore’s bed in our tent and was just interrupted by a man who came for two candles Theodore had sent for that he may explore a cave.
We are encamped for four days at Vourgounda. We came here yesterday [30 March 1885] with two mules and two workmen to make excavations on the site of an ancient city. We only took our medicines, without which we never move, necessaries of clothing, and books for four days, food and bedding; but I had so much to sit on that I had to hold with both hands all the way. As I did not fall off I was pronounced an excellent rider by the men.
There is a long rocky point jutting into the sea on the west of Karpathos, far north, near Tristomo and covered with ruins. Here everyone lunched at noon and then Theodore set the men to work and I went to the end of the point and had the tent pitched by a high rock, which shelters us from south winds. As Sunday night was the only rainless one we have had this long time, the ground was dry and by great good luck we have a level, gravelly floor.
“’We always travel with green fly tents with double flaps, the whole made of Willesden canvas, which does not get mouldy when folded up wet.’ – Theodore Bent, Esq., in the ‘Album’. Beware of imitations. Samples and prices from Willesden Paper and Canvas Works, Willesden Junction, N.W.” (‘Field’, Saturday, 10 April 1897). Twenty years after Karpathos, Mathew Simos (standing right) at camp on Socotra, by then fully familiar with tents (Bent, M.V.A. 1900: 365; archive.org).
Neither Mathew nor the other two men had ever seen a tent before, so beginning with turning right side out I had to lead by example and prompt and instruct them in everything; all in Greek too. Do not think I had only to cause the pegs to be driven into the ground and put the eyes or guys, or whatever you call the ropes, over, no, only one peg is done like that. No two ropes are the same, either as to length or the angle from the tent: some are under rocks, some are round rocks, some are over rocks, and one had to be strung through a hole in a rock… I was tired enough in my tongue and limbs when, after hoisting the Union Jack, I sat down to survey the tent, and, really, the ropes all dancing have a very funny effect. The sun was hot outside but it was hotter still setting up the beds inside, ‘tromero sesti’ as they said.
After that I went to the workmen, who had discovered the pavement of a Byzantine church. We turn up our noses at anything ‘tis Vizantines epoches’, so Theodore took them elsewhere.
Soon after our arrival, a messenger came and brought us two letters, the first we have had for more than five weeks and our first news of poor General Gordon’s death. As soon as we had joyfully read them we began to lament the many more that had been lost, but two or three hours later another man came with 23, and two newspapers, February 7 being the latest, and March 9 the latest letter.
“A very steep path leads to the small round entrance and several flights of steps lead down into a large cave. The holy place is shut in by a low wall and some pillars which do not touch the roof. Holy water drips into two little stone troughs and thither we hie with our sponges and towels to wash…” The cave-church of St John, Vroukountas, scene of a three-day festival over 29 August (St John the Baptist/Agios Ioannis Prodromos) (karpathostravel.com).
When the sun set we scrambled home. Next to our tent is a little hut built against the wall as a kitchen for pilgrims who come to a little chapel in the cave beneath. A very steep path leads to the small round entrance and several flights of steps lead down into a large cave. The holy place is shut in by a low wall and some pillars which do not touch the roof. Holy water drips into two little stone troughs and thither we hie with our sponges and towels to wash. The workmen sleep among the rocks; there are plenty of caves about. When it got dark we went to the kitchen to dine. It was Theodore’s birthday.
The sacks of my bed and the tent were laid as a tablecloth on the soft wet earthen floor. We sat on two stones. Theodore leaning against the middle post supporting a lambskin full of water, and I, as I found afterwards, very few inches from the lamb of the period. Mathew built a table and seats next day. All the rocks and stones around were full of food and pots and a candle stuck by its own wax to one of them shed a dim light, except once when it tumbled down and went out.
We had a soup of lamb’s head and a lot of herbs picked by the wayside, onions, and a handful of peas someone had given to Theodore to eat raw. Then the brains and tongue boiled. Then the liver fried; a bowl of sheep’s cream and sugar. Some wine from Samos and coffee. We then strolled on the rocks by moonlight and complained to each other that we did not feel at all excited at the idea of our first night in a tent – indeed, I think all we felt was satisfaction at the idea of a clean, dry shelter.
Mathew spread his bed on brushwood in the kitchen. I undressed outside that I might bring in no fleas. As I had spread all our bedding in the sun, for once it was dry and our clothes in the morning were quite dry too. It rained in the night and Theodore had to go out about two to loosen the guys, and the north wind came on in the morning, so they had to be tightened again.
It is a cold dark day and the sea wild and black. We breakfasted outside. Theodore has gone to dig graves today and I am remaining at home enjoying great peace, nooked in where no one can stare. I am just going to have another read of the letters.
In the afternoon, or rather about 10, I went and with difficulty found the diggers, as they were in catacombs whose openings were quite invisible from above. They had already begun to find things, though many of the graves had evidently been opened in the Byzantine times. Most things were broken but still there were many whole and during the whole time we became possessed of many earthen plates (20 in one grave), the remains of copper mirrors and boxes, some glass things broken, and some broken but very pretty vases, etc. But the best thing is quite perfect – a bowl shaped like a pineapple about 4 or 5 inches across. Besides this, three round boxes and two lids made of lead, we think, a sort of button with a hanging ring, but we know not what metal, and some little twisted bits that seem to be gold. The prettiest lamp, quite perfect, has a word on the bottom and Theodore copied some inscriptions painted on the stucco of the vaults. We are altogether very much pleased with our success, and if we do not find things on Saría may return…
On Thursday morning (March 31st, I mean April 2nd), I did not go at all to the digging. To get there one must climb up, down, or over 17 walls, and as I did this three times the day before, besides wandering in search of tombs, I am sure I had a good deal of climbing. I was not much use as the men preferred grouping themselves round me when Theodore’s back was turned, talking to me, looking at my eyeglass, scissors, gloves, never before seen in Karpathos I am sure, and asking innumerable questions. In vain I suggest they should work but when the ‘aphentiko’, as they address Theodore, comes it is different.
“Besides this, three round boxes and two lids made of lead, we think, a sort of button with a hanging ring, but we know not what metal, and some little twisted bits that seem to be gold…” (From Mabel Bent’s notebook “her chronicle in the Sporades &c., 1885”, p. 78, archive of The Hellenic Society, London, CC).
Besides there was much to do in cleaning out the earth from the pots with very little water. I had to mind the camp while Mathew went to seek a meal in the sea. I had a visit from five women and girls who, without any ceremony, called me nothing but Verghinía. This is the first time I have not been called Kyria Verghinía, but I suppose these people really never have seen anyone superior to themselves and their only idea of a ‘Kyria’ must be the Blessed Virgin. They said ‘come with us Verghinía and we’ll give you cream’, but they terrified me by playing with the pots and I gave them no encouragement to remain and was glad when they left.
I packed our personal possessions and the more delicate ‘finds’ and after luncheon Theodore went off again and I broke up the camp with Mathew, though Theodore had sent me a man, which I told him was quite unnecessary. The man was busy all the time turning a lamb into food, which I fortunately did not find out till he was dead. By the by, Mathew had not slept a 2nd night in the kitchen, which was really as airtight as a nutmeg grater, but taken refuge in a cave about 30 feet above our heads.
We had three mules as we had two huge baskets of pots and seaweeds. About 4 pm, Theodore and his men came and everything was carried about three-quarters of a mile and they and I were loaded on the mules and we reached Elymbo by dark. Sunny day.
Good Friday was a fine sunny day and we unpacked the panniers, for we were quite too tired to look at anything on our arrival. It is very exciting work digging – first finding something, then is it whole? Then have we all the pieces? The men grind the edges trying to fit them, and any metal they cut with their knife. Fortunately they never saw the little boxes. Theodore found and pocketed them.
We cleaned as much as our limited means would allow (a milk jug and a Russian wooden bowl such as grocers have with 2 lbs of tea). We packed the pots into three boxes, all except a very large earthenware jug, two of which were found whole and one of which Theodore gave away. It is to be carried loose all the way home and now we empty our bowl into it. These two days before Easter are employed making bread and cakes with red eggs stuck into them and every oven is smoking…” (Bent, M.V.A. 2006: 99-125)
(We leave the Bents here; they now return to Olympos for the Easter celebrations…)
Restrictions on the unauthorised removal of antiquities from Greece were already in force when the Bents were active in the Aegean (1880s). The position for Turkish areas was arguably more fluid, but from Mabel Bent’s notes in her diaries it is clear that had their ‘finds’ from Vourgounda been inspected on the waterfront, contemporary warehouses can still be seen at Pigadia, they would have been confiscated immediately. Just a few years later, the couple had considerable difficulties along the Turkish littoral, exiling them to distant regions (Africa, Arabia) under ‘British Protection’ where they could excavate freely.
The many crates, cartons and sacks containing the Bents’ acquisitions from Karpathos (including some very important village embroideries) left with the couple on the steamer Roúmeli on 21 April 1885. Mabel records in her diary: “The next excitement was getting the things at Pegadhia. I decided to remain on board and became a perfect queen-bee. I gave up moving at last for I was always followed. I eagerly watched the proceedings on shore. Mathew set off to run to the house where was a very hideous statue, more than the size of a baby, half a mile off. Theodore and the Turks sat down at the café… We mean to deposit it in bond at the customhouse of Syra with all the cases and things we do not want.”
Fierce storms forced the Roúmeli to seek shelter (as St Paul is said to have done) at Kali Limenes, southern Crete, before continuing via Kythera to Syra: “At Kythera a ‘manifesto’ was made and signed by the captain, saying he had picked us, and our cases, up in Turkey, and by the Kythera customs people to say we had not started from there… And now Thursday [23 April 1885] we are at Syra, all the things are in the customhouse, the great jars tied up to the wall.”
With, according to Mabel, all their acquisitions and paraphernalia (via Messina and Malta): “We reached home via Millwall Dock in safety with our 24 pieces of the most varied luggage, and I am more convinced than ever that there is no place like it.” Unfortunately she does not add a date, but it will have been around the middle of May 1885 – too late for them to attend the Hellenic Society meeting of 7 May, but Theodore did speak about the Karpathos finds at the Annual Meeting on 25 June (Bent, J.T. 1885: xlv). (For all Mabel Bent’s diary entries, see Bent, M.V.A. 2006: 99-125)
From Syra, Bent wrote a candid letter dated 24 April 1885 to Sir Charles Newton (see an earlier reference to him above), at that time Keeper of the Department of Greek and Roman Antiquities at the British Museum. The use of the word ‘plunder’ is jarring : ‘We returned from Karpathos yesterday and had hoped to catch a steamer which would have brought us and our things straight to England. Unfortunately we shall have to wait a week at least, and as we have so much plunder we cannot take the Marseilles route… We were fairly successful in Karpathos, finding a large number of rock cut graves unopened which have produced pottery, etc., which, if not of the highest order, offer a good deal which I believe to be of a new character. I have likewise got a good-sized statue of one of those quaint figures which I got at Antiparos last year; it is of stone and nearly a yard long. It is decidedly uglier than any which have yet come to hand. Of quaint manners and customs I have got a fine collection, also of old Karpathiote dresses and jewelry… We had rather a rough time of it, Karpathos being very far behind the world in comforts, and decidedly we enjoyed ourselves best when living in our own tent. Mrs. Bent survives and is well and begs her kind regards. Yours very truly, J. Theodore Bent” (Archive of the Department of Greek and Roman Antiquities, British Museum)
Items from Vroukountas purchased by the British Museum from Theodore Bent in 1886 (* = on display at the BM as of June 2026)
(The Bents returned to London from Karpathos in May 1885, i.e. suggesting a period of deliberation and negotiation by both parties. Many finds referred to by Mabel in her diaries, and Theodore in his article for the Hellenic Society, i.e. the mysterious ’20 plates’, the large pithoi, etc., did not go to the BM and are presumably in various other collections today, unprovenanced. Over the centuries, how many other adventurers have come and gone among such islands, removing similar artefacts?)
Items from Vroukountas donated by Mabel Bent to the British Museum in 1926
Mabel Bent’s sister, Ethel Bagenal (1848-1930), to whom she left her estate on her death in July 1929, in turn, Ethel’s daughters were responsible for their aunt’s collections (The Bent Archive).
The Bents leased a fine townhouse near Marble Arch, London, at 13 Great Cumberland Place; Mabel continued to live there until her death in 1929. It was a veritable museum, if not a treasure chest, of decades of collecting and inherited items and clearly she wanted to hold on to certain souvenirs of her travels with Theodore, or items that were particularly decorative – including some discoveries from Vroukountas made during that obviously happy spring of 1885. Towards the end of her life she was inevitably thinking of what was to happen to her collections (alas, creating some sort of permanent home for them does not seem to have been considered). In her will, everything was left to her surviving sister, Ethel Bagenal (or effectively her two daughters, i.e. Mabel’s nieces). However in 1926 Mabel presented to the British Museum a large number of artefacts from all the regions they had travelled to, including the following Vroukountas pieces (they lack specific grave numbers):
1926,0410.42: kantharos, black-glazed ware. Attic, ca. 4th BCE. No grave specified, donated 1926 by MVAB.
1926,0410.41: kantharos, black-glazed ware. Attic, ca. 4th BCE. No grave specified, donated 1926 by MVAB.
1926,0410.40: salt-cellar, black-glazed ware. Hellenistic, ca. 3rd c. BCE. No grave specified, donated 1926 by MVAB.
(For an overview of the Bents’ collections see this summary)
“[At] Pegadia or ‘wells’ … there are evidences of pre-historic inhabitants, the graves of whom I was unfortunately unable to open owing to the presence of the Turkish authorities, but I was able to obtain a large stone figure of a female idol, similar to the smaller ones I found at Antiparos…” (Bent, J.T. 1885: 235)
This is the most bizarre of all the Bents’ acquisitions from any of their travels – an enigmatic stone figurine, still without a known parallel. The British Museum’s data record its findspot as Vroukountas, but the Bents purchased it from the Pigadia area; it left Karpathos whole, clandestinely in a blanket, but now is shown mended (in two parts).
Not currently exhibited (June 2026), it is a much travelled object, having featured in loan exhibitions to the Far East. (How Bent can think it resembled one of the marble figurines he recovered from Antiparos in 1884 is hard to explain.)
“Embroidered tunic and skirt of linen crepe with square sleeves, embroidered in tent and long cross stitches with various repeating patterns of debased floral and other forms arranged geometrically.” Now in the Victoria and Albert Museum, London (no: 346-1886; from Karpathos in the Dodecanese, acquired from the Bents (in 1886) after their visit to the island in early 1885). Similar ‘frocks’ purchased by the Bents on Karpathos are now in the Benaki Museum, Athens (Victoria and Albert Museum, London).
In the early twentieth century, a group of BSA students put together significant collections of Greek domestic embroidery. Many of which are now in museum collections across the UK, in particular the V&A and National Museums Liverpool. The primary collectors were R.M. Dawkins and A.J.B. Wace. As the granddaughter of Wace and as a textile conservator, Ann French has been researching how these collections were compiled, studied, exhibited and promoted by them and their colleagues and friends. During her talk (at mins 33-35) we are introduced to some ‘frocks’ bought by the Bents while on Karpathos in 1885, and their slow, circular journey back to Greece (Athens) in the early 1930s. (The tale is also brilliantly told in the scholarly journal of the Benaki Museum, 2015-2016-2017, pp. 75-90. French includes very rare photographs, essential bibliography and notes.)
2) “Greek Dress at the Hellenic Centre, London – 4 February until 2 March 2014” – The Bents’ acquisitions and their stories!
Although Theodore and Mabel Bent lived not so far away, Marylebone, in Central London, might seem an unlikely place for an exhibition of Greek costume, but it is the home of the Hellenic Centre, a focus for philhellenes and London’s Greek community. From 4 February until 2 March 2014, there was a rare opportunity to see an impressive range of Greek dress outside its native land. As part of the event (on Friday 28 February, 7.15 pm), Ann French, Textile Conservator at the Whitworth Art Gallery, the University of Manchester, used selected embroideries from the 1914 pioneering embroidery exhibition (click for the online catalogue) at the Burlington Fine Arts Club in London, to trace their individual collecting histories and reveal the different contexts, interpretations and values placed on them within UK based collections and museums. This exhibition, which drew on the leading collections of the day, primarily from the collection of Theodore and Mabel Bent and the archaeologists R M Dawkins & A J B Wace, of Greek Embroideries displayed, for the first time in the UK, historic Greek Embroideries as an art form. There is a short, but wonderful, promotional video on YouTube (April 2021).
The exhibition features several of the Bent’s finest costumes and pieces, and Ann refers to them in the last five minutes or so of her talk in a fascinating account of how, on Mabel’s death, one of her Karpathos frocks found its way back to Greece! (One other is in store at the V & A, and two more from Nisyros are untraced – if you have them, let us know!)
Another of the dresses acquired by the Bents on Karpathos in 1885. After a long journey, this exquisite cotton costume of the 18th century returned to Greece and is now in the Benaki Museum, Athens (EE 923).
Click here also for the small collection of ‘Turkish’ embroideries once owned by the Bents and now in the Harris Museum and Gallery, Preston, UK, and here for dresses from Anafi in the Cyclades.
(For the Bents in Greece and Turkey, see Mabel Bent’s Chronicles, published by Archaeopress, Oxford, in 3 volumes)
‘Chemise’ from Karpathos(?) acquired by the Bents in 1885. MFA/Boston No. 43.398 from the Elizabeth Day McCormick Collection (public domain).
Roderick Taylor in his Embroidery of the Greek Islands (New York, 1998) has several references and photographs of Greek costumes from the collections of the Bents now dispersed far and wide. It is not clear from the several references Mabel Bent made in her Karpathos diary to buying dresses on this island (and others in the Dodecanese) from which village this comes. Taylor includes island dresses/chemises from the displays of such collectors as Helen Stathatos (1887-1982) and Elizabeth Day McCormick (1873-1957) (pp. 46, 80-2, 175; see also Susan L. MacMillan Greek Islands Embroideries, MFA Boston, 1974).
The costume worn by Ekaterina Lorenziades of Ios in the Cyclades to impress the Bents during their stay, now in the National Historical Museum, Athens (photo = Alan King).
See also the blog ‘Folk Costume and Embroidery‘ and Alan King’s post elsewhere on the costume worn by Ekaterina Lorenziades to impress the Bents during their stay on Ios, now in the National Historical Museum, Athens.
After Vanessa Gordon, author of The Naxos Mysteries, kindly contributed to our Reading “The Cyclades” series, we asked if she would like to write us a short piece about her erstwhile Cycladic encounters with Theodore and Mabel Bent, and were delighted when she agreed.
Beginning her article on the island of Antiparos, where the Bents spent some happy weeks in early 1884, making their own mysterious discoveries, Vanessa writes…
Antiparos collage (Wikipedia).
We eventually reached Antiparos, having made several visits to its larger neighbour, Paros, on other trips without managing to include Antiparos in our itinerary.
By the time I stood on the southern shore of Antiparos, looking out over the islet of Despotiko, I already knew something about Theodore and Mabel Bent. Their activities here had made an impression on me when I first read Theodore’s book The Cyclades, or Life among the Insular Greeks (1885), which I had discovered on the bookcase of a good friend in Athens who, being a classicist and archaeologist, had many interesting books that I scanned and subsequently acquired.
Imagine my disappointment, then, when we were told that there would be no more ferry crossings to Despotiko that day. My husband and I consoled ourselves with a superb fish lunch, and resolved to return the following summer.
Bent’s map of the Cyclades from the first edition of his 1885 book. The arrow points to Despotiko (archive.org).
And so we did, and were much better prepared that time. Schedules had been consulted and hours put aside for exploring on Despotiko. In fact, we arrived too early, and ordered a coffee at a taverna close to the jetty. There we met another English couple, Steve and Diana, and a conversation began. They, too, were waiting for the ferry to Despotiko, and we ended up spending the whole day together. We first visited the ruined Sanctuary of Apollo, where the Bents had been long before us, and then re-boarded the ferry which took us round the coast to a swimming bay at the far side of the islet. It was there, as we walked into the warm water to have our swim, that our companions informed us they were once members of the British Olympic swimming team. We have remained friends ever since.
It was a serendipitous first encounter with the indomitable Bents, although with our new friends, and the inevitable feast afterwards at the local taverna, I’m not sure just how much I thought about them after we left the sanctuary. By the end of the day, though, I regarded them in a different way from how I had thought of them on reading Life Among the Insular Greeks. I had picked up even then that Theodore’s approach to antiquity was, in a sense, rather cavalier. I had formed an impression that some things might have been damaged in his search for other antiquities. That was understandable: these were early days, and the principles of archaeology, especially concerning the protection, conservation and sensitive excavation of finds, had barely been established at the time – and not established at all in the mind of Theodore. What else was to be expected from an enthusiastic explorer in a science that was barely past its adolescence? The bond I had formed with Theodore, therefore, was a fellow-feeling between two come-lately but passionate amateurs. I also admired him, of course, for having done so much in the pursuit of his passion, undeterred by hardships, adversity and ill-health.
Mabel V.A. Hall-Dare, later Mrs J Theodore Bent, as a young woman. She, famously, had long, red hair (courtesy Turtle Bunbury).
Then there was Mabel, his wife. Photographer and diarist, older than her husband, vivacious Irish woman, desperate to escape the confines of Victorian Ireland, she had accepted Theodore as her husband and his proposal to travel to foreign lands. They had set off soon after their wedding (1877) and were to explore together for many years; even after Theodore’s early death, Mabel continued this journeying. I was reminded of Joan Leigh-Fermor, partner and wife of Paddy, who crossed Greece with him in an era when it was almost as difficult to do so as for the Bents. Also of Agatha Christie, whose late marriage to Max Mallowan had taken her to remote archaeological sites in Egypt, where, with her trusty typewriter in her luggage, she had written some of her mysteries in makeshift accommodation in the desert. These were women whose husbands – archaeologists and explorers, writers and travellers – had opened up for them the possibility of a life which most women of the time had no chance to experience.
So it was that, inevitably perhaps, I introduced small references to the Bents in my own writing. The Naxos Mysteries pivot on archaeology and history, and my hero Martin Day gives long and enthusiastic explanations on his beloved subject to anyone who will listen. This gives me the perfect platform for introducing all sorts of interesting historical anecdotes into my books, and this includes the Bents.
It is not Martin Day, however, who first introduces the Bents to my readers: it is an elderly retired academic called Edward Childe, a character who quickly became one of my favourites. Edward persuades Day to create a documentary series on the subject of Greek marble, a series which is to be structured using Edward’s eclectic collection of historical memorabilia which, he explains, includes some unusual letters:
Kouros of Apollonas, Naxos. Mabel Bent writes in her diary: “We had a great deal of difficulty in the morning about starting to go and see an unfinished colossal statue said to be of Apollo, 1½ hour off near the sea… We had to leave the mules and climb with hands as well as feet to the quarry and on to the statue, which is enormous and very rough and weather worn” (Wikipedia).
“There will be a major focus on Naxos, not only as a historic centre for Greek marble but also because I have some letters written by Mrs Mabel Bent to a friend in London, in which she describes how she and her more renowned husband Theodore were exploring Naxos in the late nineteenth century. I also have a couple of her photographs. One of them shows the Kouros of Apollo.”
“How on earth did you get hold of the Bent material, Edward?” interrupted Day.
“The letters were left to me when I was a student by an Oxford classicist I very much admired. His name was Augustus Bent Middleton. I don’t know if there’s a family connection with the famous Bents – perhaps you’d like to look into it, Martin?” (The Search for Artemis, 2021)
How did Edward acquire such material, you may ask? Mabel’s diaries, which formed the basis of her husband’s famous books, are in safe keeping now, not to mention being digitally accessible; but this is fiction, and there is always the chance of personal letters showing up decades later, don’t you agree?
The Bents are mentioned again later in the same book, when Day talks about them to his friend (later wife) Helen, in his usual, informative way:
Theodore Bent, an image used in his obituary in ‘St. James’s Budget’, 14 May 1897 (Bent died on 5 May 1897) (from the British Library Collection, shelfmark MFM.MLD32, 14/05/1897, page 15, reproduced with permission).
“Edward said he had original letters from the wife of Theodore Bent. Do you know about him?”
“No, who was he?”
“He was a young Englishman from Yorkshire who lived at the same time as the giants of archaeology, like Arthur Evans and Heinrich Schliemann. note 1 He was completely self-taught, very young and inexperienced. Undeterred, he committed his short life to travel and archaeology, and his equally young wife Mabel went with him. They travelled through the Cyclades, writing about what they saw, not only about the ancient remains they found but also the lives of the local people. I’ll lend you the book, it makes good reading. It’s called something like Life among the Insular Greeks, I have a copy here in the house. Theodore was an Oxford graduate with no experience of excavation, yet when he had an opportunity to excavate on Antiparos, off Paros, it made his reputation. He died tragically young, in his mid-forties. His wife wrote travel notebooks, which are in library collections in London. Edward told me that he had some letters she wrote to a friend describing her time on Naxos with Theodore. I’ve seen her notebooks; I’d love to see those letters. note 2 ”
“I’d like to read the book.” (The Search for Artemis, 2021)
Another Naxos Mystery in which the Bents are specifically mentioned is The House in Apíranthos. The book is structured around a series of filming sessions, already referred to in The Search for Artemis, that take place at locations in the Cyclades. Day is presenting episodes based on current excavation sites, one of which is the exciting sanctuary on Despotiko, which I had visited years earlier with our new Olympian friends (see above). Here he is speaking into the camera:
The Sanctuary of Apollo on Despotiko, off Antiparos. The Bents were the first modern travellers to record its ruins in 1884 (Wikipedia).
“Welcome to the Sanctuary of Apollo on the island of Despotiko. This is one of the most important excavations currently being undertaken in Greece, yet it is also one of the least well-known. Despotiko has been uninhabited for some time, protected by law both for its unspoilt natural habitat and its archaeological significance. Its long history, since first being mentioned by Pliny the Elder, has involved Venetians, Ottomans, and even pirates, and the English traveller Theodore Bent was here in the second half of the nineteenth century. Christos Tsountas, the brilliant Greek archaeologist, began excavating here at the end of that century, and more discoveries were made in the 1950s when an early Cycladic settlement was found.”
Day paused slightly to allow Ben to change to a different angle for the next line.
“Then, in 1997, the current excavation here began.”
He put on his sunglasses and turned away from the camera. note 3 (The House in Apíranthos, 2024)
And with that brief reference I abandon Theodore and Mabel to their bravely-earned place in the history of early archaeological exploration and travel, but with a great deal of respect and fondness. There is just one more memory to share with you.
I was giving a talk on Naxos in 2025 to an audience of readers, archaeologists and locals about The House in Apíranthos. During the Q&A session I was surprised and delighted when one of the archaeologists expressed her pleasure that I knew about the Bents. I wondered fleetingly whether my introducing them had seemed rather presumptuous to readers not familiar with them, but the thought faded quickly. The Bents deserve their place and they are welcome in my books, not least because of the special bond I made with them, long gone though they are, on the island of Despotiko.
The Secrets of Stelida, Vanessa’s 7th book in ‘The Naxos Mysteries’ series has just been published (Spring 2026).
Footnotes
Note 1: Indeed, the Bents were acquaintances of Arthur Evans and the Schliemanns, lunching with the latter in Athens in January 1890 (Travel Chronicles, Vol. 1, 2006, p.271). Return from Note 1
Note 2: Mabel’s travel diaries (her Chronicles as she calls them) are kept in the archives of the Hellenic Society, Senate House, London. They have recently been digitised. Her letters do occasionally surface. There are several (to her family in Ireland) in the archive of the Royal Geographical Society, London. Return from Note 2
Note 3: The Bents’ documentary series (The Eastern Mediterranean; Africa; Arabia) still awaits its producer. Return from Note 3
Celebrity explorer Theodore Bent’s expedition to Great Zimbabwe in 1891 removed eight soapstone birds (six large and two small) from its enigmatic ruins (Bent 1892: 180). They came to London it seems with the rest of his acquisitions and were exhibited in the Bents’ townhouse, near Marble Arch, before Cecil Rhodes (the couple’s great sponsor) had them returned to Cape Town – he had previously bought a specimen from the ranger Willi Posselt and put it on display at his Groote Schuur estate. This item from Rhodes’s mansion (and the others, over the last decades) has recently (April 2026) been rightfully handed back to Zimbabwe with much celebration (including Bent on the BBC!).
What is often overlooked, however, is that these large birds were originally carved on long, soapstone beams (pillars/pedestals/plinths) that decorated a construction Bent referred to as an acropolis/sacred enclosure. Happily, his wife, Mabel Bent, kept one of these for her own collection long after Theodore’s death in 1897, only donating it to the British Museum (Af1926,0410.1), before she, too, died in 1929. This beam has survived, although it is not on display – a perch without a bird.
Examples of the iconic soapstone birds the Bents removed from Great Zimbabwe in 1891. From Cape Town they have now been transferred to Zimbabwe (Mabel Bent’s photos reproduced in ‘The Ruined Cities of Mashonaland’ by Theodore Bent, 1892, p.181).
Theodore Bent (1892: 158-161) records that this ‘…tall decorated soapstone pillar 11 feet 6 inches in height, which stood on the platform already alluded to… acted as a centre to a group of monoliths; the base of this pillar we found, the rest had been broken off… It was worked with bands of geometric patterns around it, each different from the other and divided into compartments by circular patterns, one of which is the chevron pattern found on the circular ruin below; it only runs round a portion of the pillar; and may possibly have been used to orient it towards the setting sun.’ (It appears that the remaining portion of the ‘pillar’ found its way to the Cape Town museum.)
Top right, Mabel Bent’s beam from Great Zimbabwe illustrated in May Crommelin’s (1901), ‘Lesser Lares’ (From the Collection of Mrs. Theodore Bent). ‘The Connoisseur: an illustrated magazine for collectors’. pp. 161-4.
In 1930, Mabel’s beam – which had broken in two parts and was taped up (see the illustration from The Connoisseur) – was exhibited at the British Museum as part of the ‘Loan Exhibition of Antiquities from Zimbabwe and other Ancient Sites in Rhodesia’, organised for the British Association for the Advancement of Science and relevant African institutions (The South African Museum, Cape Town; The Rhodesian Museum, Bulawayo; and the Queen Victoria Memorial, Salisbury). A cast was subsequently made and sent to South Africa, Mabel Bent’s original remaining in London. After the event, it seems that the beam was separated into two parts – the base part going to Cape Town, and the top part remaining in the British Museum (No. Af1926,0410.1, see illustration). The base part, we believe, is now (April 2026) also in the process of being repatriated to Zimbabwe from the South Africa Museum (Iziko) Museums. Should not the two parts be rejoined?
The British Museum also commissioned a replica cast of a beam (c. 175 cm high) with bird attached, giving an idea of what a complete object would have looked like; it is described as: ‘Cast; sculpture, made of plaster. In form of a bird sitting on top of a pedestal. Set into square base. Painted grey throughout to match original soapstone object. Distinguished by short panel of chevrons at front of chest. Plumage indicated by parallel oblique lines.’
Bent’s African watercolours
The collection of Bent’s contemporary watercolours in the Zimbabwe National Archives (Harare) is still under lock and key and virtually impossible it seems to access, despite several enquiries and approaches by eminent local academics. Although we do not know what condition they are in after so long, hopefully one day this unique and highly important resource can be made available to international researchers.
Bent’s watercolours reproduced in his 1892 book on Great Zimbabwe, now in the the National Archives, Harare (the Bent Archive).
Into the Persian Gulf with the Bents, via the Strait of Hormuz, 1889 (Glyn Griffiths/Bent Archive).
On 27 January 1889, celebrity explorers Theodore and Mabel Bent safely navigated the Strait of Hormuz to enter the Persian Gulf. Some weeks later, incredibly, they began their way home to London with a ride, south-north, through Persia – Bushehr to Jolfar. Mabel Bent’s personal diaries (Chronicles she called them) of this great ride are in the archives of the Hellenic Society, London. Scanned and freely accessible, their significance – among the largish corpus of late 19th-century ‘European’ and colonialist-tinted travelogues – of course, is thrown into stark relief at the time of this present disastrous crisis (April 2026).
Theodore Bent’s interests were primarily archaeological and we can follow the couple as they ride via Shiraz, Persepolis, Esfahan, Qom, Tehran, Takht-e Soleiman, Lake Orumiyeh, and Tabriz – sites all at potential risk from aerial attacks (what would Alexander have made of all this as he embarked on his sack of Xerxes’ capital in 330 BCE?).
Bent had written in advance to the Shah’s representative for permission to excavate in the area of Persepolis; his request is granted, but he changes his mind (see below) and the couple instead head north in search of fabled Ecbatana (Hamadan), an objective they don’t achieve. “Our great desire now”, writes Mabel, “is to inform ourselves where Ecbatana was; no one knows and some think Isfahan, some Hamadan, and we hope it may be Takht i Sulieman.”)
Mabel Bent’s account of their extraordinary journey is told in her three Persian notebooks, readable online via the Hellenic Society/London University (the pdf files are quite large, allow time for downloading; for annotated transcriptions, see The Travel Chronicles of Mrs. J. Theodore Bent, Vol. 3, 2010, Oxford, pp. 26-127).
Mabel Bent’s ‘6th Chronicle’ 1889 (vol.1) (The Hellenic Society, London).
Notebook 1begins with the Bents making for Bahrain (late January 1889) via Karachi, Theodore intending to investigate the curious burial mounds of ’Ali there. This done, the couple decide on a whim to return to London overland, on horseback, through Persia. Notebook 1 ends (c. 18 March 1889) at Abadeh in the Central District of Abadeh County, Fars province, Iran, famed for its carpets and carved fruitwood (Mabel acquires a set of wooden sherbet spoons there).
Mabel Bent’s ‘6th Chronicle’ 1889 (vol.2) (The Hellenic Society, London).
Notebook 2 continues the ride as far as Tabriz, northern Iran, which they reach c. 16 May 1889, having indefatigably toured, inter alia, Esfahan, Qom, Tehran, the Takht-e Soleiman area, and the shores of Lake Orumiyeh. The Bents’ dreams of finding and excavating Ecbatana somewhere near the bizarre mountain site of Takht-e Soleiman (c. 4 May 1889) come to nothing (they return to England with just a fragment of tile they removed). The stand-out moment of this leg was an audience with Shah Naser al-Din Shah Qajar, near Zanjan, c. 27 April 1889: “… then he beckoned to us… and when we reached H.M. we made another bow and curtsey and Theodore took care not to expose his naked head.” Notebook 2 ends at Tabriz, where Mabel is obliged to purchase a journal of inferior quality for the completion of her Chronicle (“…I am sorry to have to write in such a nasty book, but as it was never bought for me I must be thankful we have it…”).
Mabel Bent’s ‘6th Chronicle’ 1889 (vol.3) (The Hellenic Society, London).
Notebook 3concludes Mabel’s Persian memoires, the ‘nasty book’ recording the short distance from Tabriz to the Aras River (c. 25 May 1889) at the Jolfa crossing, and then the long return (rail) journey to England, via Kiev, Warsaw, and Berlin. The Bents reach their comfortable London townhouse near Marble Arch on 11 June 1889 – the grey-greens of the English Channel not featuring on any palette prepared for the Strait of Hormuz…
Gallery
Naser al-Din Shah Qajar, Shah of Persia (1831-1896). The Bents meet him near Zanjan, c. 27 April 1889 (Wikipedia).The set of fruitwood sherbet spoons acquired (March 1889) at Abadeh (“The Connoisseur”, 1901, pp. 161-4 (archive.org).The 13th-century tile fragment the Bents removed (c. 4 May 1889) from the site of Takht-e Soleiman (private collection).A small section of the remains of ancient Ecbatana (Hamadan), Iran (Wikipedia).
Ram’s-head rhyton (Reza Abbasi Museum); lion rhyton (National Museum of Iran) (Wikipedia)
There is scant coverage in the main media (April 2026) of possible damage to Iran’s archaeology in the current conflict; searches online, however, reveal indications that Theodore and Mabel Bent will read with dismay. In early 1889, our celebrity explorers had permission from the offices of the Shah to dig near Persepolis (they didn’t); then they thought they would contribute to the search for fabled Ecbatana. Mabel Bent writes in her diary (c. 21 April 1889): “Our first intention was to go and dig at Hamadan, S.W. of Teheran, and Theodore wrote to Sir H. Drummond Wolff [H.M. Ambassador] beforehand to obtain permission to dig… T got a good map from the chancery, brought it up, and we found we should prefer to go to a place much more north… Sir H.D.W. most kindly asked Amin es Sultan and got leave for ‘anywhere’, to the fear of the French minister, M. de Balloy, who dreaded that we should wish to poach on the Dieulafoy preserve at Susa. He was assured we should not think of anything so mean. Let as many people dig in as many places as they can that we may all be the wiser. Our great desire now is to inform ourselves where Ecbatana was; no one knows and some think Isfahan, some Hamadan, and we hope it may be Takht i Sulieman.” (‘Travel Chronicles of Mabel Bent’, Vol.3, 2010, Oxford, pp.78-9). And off the Bents arduously rode up into the mountains to the latter and found nothing. They really should have tried Hamadan, where archaeologists (e.g. Charles Fossey, as late as 1913) made astonishing discoveries associated with Ecbatana. Had the Bents made the right choice, the gleaming golden rhyta and other finds from this erstwhile capital of the Medes (overlooked it seems in 330 BCE when Alexander looted the treasury) might now be in the British Museum. There’s a thought as the missiles fly…
Celebrity explorers Theodore and Mabel Bent marked the Persian New Year (No-Rooz) of March 1889 at Yezd-i-Khast, south of Isfahan. The couple were on a famous ride, south-north almost the whole length of Persia, returning to London from Bahrain.
Mabel’s account of the ride from her diaries is transcribed in The Travel Chronicles of Mabel Bent, Vol. 3 (Oxford, 2012), whereas Theodore wrote to articles about the trip, the second being the account of New Year as Yezd-i-Khast, transcribed below.
New Year’s Day In A Persian Village, by J. Theodore Bent
Yezd-i-Khast. From a Persian photograph by Mabel Bent, in J.T. Bent’s article ‘New Year’s Day in a Persian Village’. ‘English Illustrated Magazine’, 1890, Vol. 76 (Jan), 326-31 (private collection).
Several motives induced us to stop at Yezd-i-khast for the Persian New Year’s festival or Aid-i-No-Rooz, as they call it there. Firstly, we were personally very tired of our caravan journey up through this country of mountain and desert; secondly, our muleteers, without positively refusing to go on, made it understood that they would consider it a great favour to do so; thirdly, Yezd-i-khast is one of the most extraordinary places in Persia, a paradise for the sketcher and photographer, and here in the midst of this primitive life, quite the oldest of New Year’s customs could be with advantage studied.
Curiously enough we had reached our destination almost exactly at the hour at which the Persian New Year was commencing, namely, at one o’clock on the 25th of March, the moment when the sun entered Aries, and it was amusing to see how excited every one became at this juncture; how on the firing of certain guns, which announced the propitious moment, every man saluted his neighbour with a kiss, saying as he did so, ‘May your New Year be happy’; how they strove to have money in their hands or something of value, that the New Year might produce for them much of it. This is the origin of that funny present of coins given by the Shah on New Year’s day to his Ministers and foreign Ambassadors, gold and silver coins, which are not taken in circulation, but are made by the recipients into ornaments for their wives.
Whilst we are unpacking our beds and making ourselves as comfortable as circumstances will permit in a room closely resembling an outhouse in a farmyard, let us for a moment ponder over the obscure origin of this Persian New Year festival. It is perhaps the oldest festival celebrated in the world. The Persians themselves, with their love of the fabulous, will tell you that their mythical hero, Jemsheed, instituted it, he who built Persepolis and entered it on New Year’s day, he who invented the plough, the fairy godmother in fact of Iran. He divided time into two kinds of years, civil and religious, and instituted the feast of the New Year to commemorate the event, a feast which in those long-past ages lasted only for six days, but which in these degenerate days has been extended to thirteen, during which time everything in Persia is more at a standstill than usual, so that you can hardly obtain the ordinary necessaries of life in the bazaars.
All that is certain about the festival is its extreme antiquity. Centuries ago the Persian poet, Firdousi, describes it in his verses as a time of protracted feasting and idleness much as it is now, and though the moon is made to govern the present official year of the Persian, the sun still governs the agricultural; the farmer of to-day speaks of the reaping month, the sowing month, the ploughing month, he does not understand names of so modern an invention as the early Mussulman conquest, he goes back to the days when the sun governed everything in the land, and the now almost extinct influence of the sun-worshipping Parsee was supreme.
Hence the festival of the No-Rooz is a distinct survival of the days of sun-worship, it marks the commencement of a new life in nature, it attributes the bursting forth of Spring, the return of warmth, to the rays of the deity, and the existence of such a festival in a Mohammedan country is a concession from the new order of things to the past, a concession which is further recognizable in the calls to prayer from the minaret at sunrise and sunset, the universal prostrations just before and after the rising and setting of the great heavenly luminary, and many other little acts of daily life, which have survived from sun-worshipping days in Persia.
The No-Rooz is distinctly the ‘Christmas’ of the Persians, the great family feast, at which everybody gives and receives a present; the heads of families keep open house, and the women in their harems consume an unconscionable amount of sweets. Wherever we had stopped for weeks before, each household was busying itself in preparing its No-Rooz sweets, and in such towns as Yezd and Ispahan enormous quantities are manufactured three months before and dispersed for sale over the country by caravans. Eggs are collected for weeks beforehand and hard boiled, coloured red and yellow, exactly like our Easter eggs, pointing to the same origin-the commemoration of springtide, and the resurrection of nature from its grave. In their season fruits of all kinds, melons, grapes, apples and pomegranates are cunningly preserved and stored away for consumption during the festival of No-Rooz.
At the Shah’s court the system of New Year’s gifts is carried on to an alarming extent. His Majesty, if he wishes to reward a faithful servant, sends him into the provinces to collect these New Year gifts; he is authorized to get for himself what perquisites he can, and, as usually happens, the middleman gets the lion’s share. At this festive season coats of honour are sent to governors of provinces, mayors of towns and leading dignitaries, the price to be paid for receiving the honour being usually stipulated beforehand. The very common Persian word of ‘pishkesh’ (present), a word by no means confined to this season of the year, is on everybody’s lips from the Shah on his throne down to the humblest individual in the village. The dervishes are perhaps the worst beggars of all. At No-Rooz they get from their chief, the dervish bashi, their orders, and are billeted, so to speak, on stated individuals. With their ragged clothes, knobbed stick, wallet, and horn they duly appear at their victim’s door, without cessation blowing their horn and screaming ‘Yahák, Yahák!’ until their New Year’s gift is brought. If this does not satisfy them, they pitch their tent at his door and blow their horn, until they have reduced the householder to order.
Two hundred feet above us towered the lofty rock on which the town is perched. Its tiny wooden balconies hang over space and look terribly insecure; here live the inhabitants, and from here they cast their offal to the terror of those below; beneath, in caves cut in the rock, live the flocks, and from amongst the fields around spring up uncanny looking boulders, which at various times have been detached from the rock above. The aspect of the place is quite awe-inspiring, and as we wandered on the mud roof of our home above the stables we thought we knew not a place in the world with which to compare it.
The village, or town I suppose we ought to call it, is built on the top of a long, lofty rock, rising up in the centre of a narrow ravine-a truly historical ravine – which in bygone ages was a portion of the boundary line between the two kingdoms of the Medes and Persians, and which now divides the two provinces of Persia of Fars and Irak Adjemi, the scene of many a bloody conflict, even within the memory of man.
Bridge and only entrance to Yezd-i-Khast. From a Persian photograph by Mabel Bent, in Bent’s article ‘New Year’s Day in a Persian Village’. ‘English Illustrated Magazine’, 1890, Vol. 76 (Jan), 3
There is a gradual ascent in a southerly direction from the post-house, which is situated at the northern end of the rock; we passed by enclosures for the cattle of the community and deep caves, where the newly-born of goats and sheep were skipping and bleating, until at the south end of the rock a spot is reached where the ground is so high that by a rickety bridge you can cross a chasm, and enter the town through a hole in the wall; in former years there was a drawbridge, now there is only a frail thing made of trees, which requires a good head and firm step to cross. This is the only approach to the town.
Just before you step on to the bridge there is a small square enclosure for public prayers, it is the great meeting place of the town, and towards sunset on the first day of the year it was so crowded by worshippers that there was not nearly room for them all, and they had to make their prostrations in their turn. Everybody appeared to be dressed in new clothes, for no Persian however poor would enter on a new year without some new garment, and they all looked particularly clean, for it is the custom on the day before the feast for everyone to go to the bath, to have his hair dyed black and his nails dyed yellow with henna.
I never saw a more dismal spot in my life than the interior of Yezd-i-khast. One long street like a tunnel, with occasional glimpses of the upper air, runs from one end of the rock to the other; as you enter the gateway the chilly atmosphere of a vault strikes upon you. The gatekeeper was in his hole to the right, behind the door which he shuts at night – a hole not large enough to lie down in. He was crouching over a charcoal brazier, on which simmered a coffee-pot; he is a blear-eyed, ragged old man, who looks as if he was in a perpetual shiver, and as if he was immured alive in a tomb, which any respectable corpse would reject with scorn. As we stumbled along in the dark, we nearly fell over an old woman selling dried grapes and other luxuries, using as weights round stones and shells in a pair of scales which any inspector would condemn at first sight. They took us to see the mosque, a tumble-down structure, with worm-eaten screens and pulpit, walls all over scribblings and pictures, we presumed, by local artists; to the left of the mosque is an open platform built over space and affording an alarming view into the abyss below. Into the walls of this sacred edifice are built several fragments from an ancient temple-probably a fire-temple of the old Zoroastrian days; on the hills all round are ruins of temples of this ancient cult. This neighbourhood was in the very heart of the fire-worshippers’ region, so without doubt so conspicuous an eminence as Yezd-i-khast must also have had its temple.
Our first visit next day was to the Mayor, who gave us a very cordial welcome at the top of his stairs. He was very grand indeed to-day, in his coat of honour (kalat), a beautiful quilted coat of white cashmere embroidered with red. On reception days the Mayor must always wear this mark of honour, about which we were not a little curious, and learnt that the Prince Governor of Shiraz had given it to him on New Year’s Day, two years ago, and he told us furthermore how he had had to go two stages on the road to meet it with the best retinue he could muster, and how he had had to give a sum equivalent to £50 for the honour, fully twice as much as it was worth. This sum had been fixed beforehand, and he had had to sign a written document to the effect that he had received the coat and had given so much for it; so mercenary have honours become in Persia. Now, the Mayor of Yezd-i-khast is entitled to the title of khan, having at the same time received a firman or letters patent, which he had to wear in his cap for three days so that all the world might know the honour which had befallen him, and any one refusing to acknowledge his position would henceforth be liable to be punished capitally.
The Mayor’s room was dingy, but of festive appearance, the mud-floor was spread with carpets, the brass ‘samovar’ or tea-urn was hissing pleasantly, trays of nuts, dates, and various kinds of dried fruits were spread around, and in solemn circle squatted on their haunches all the notables of the place were smoking their water-pipes. As each guest came in, he greeted the Mayor and wished him a good New Year; equals kissed him on both cheeks, inferiors only took his right hand in theirs, and after giving it an affectionate squeeze raised it to their lips to kiss.
After taking leave of the Mayor we were pounced upon and carried off to the residence of the mollah, or parish priest. His reverence was seated on his carpet, with a clean white turban and new flowing robes. His water-pipe was bubbling away and placed on a dish in which seeds had been sown some weeks ago, so that they might grow up green and fresh for the New Year’s festivities. This is a common custom in Persia. Every good housewife will have a dish of green corn ready for the feast of No-Rooz. It is a sort of symbol of the return of spring, an offering to Demeter, a survival of paganism; this dish is kept in the house for the thirteen days of feasting, and the corn is then thrown away. Also they will take a lump of young wheat from the field, roots and all, and this they will stick over their doors and not pull it down till it is withered.
Next we visited the cemetery of Yezd-i-khast, which is gathered around a little sacred tomb containing the remains of one Imam Riza, of holy memory. It is quite a plain building of red bricks, with a dome, around which on this festive occasion many people were gathered. The most devout kissed with avidity the walls of the tomb; the more callous walked past and chatted gaily; the more sentimental went and had a wail at the tombs of their departed relatives, and then joined the gay and festive concourse again. It is the fashion for all the world to go to the tombs on New Year’s Day, and it was a curious scene. We stood at a little distance and watched, until we became aware that our presence was not appreciated by the multitude; sundry stones were cast at us, angry voices were raised, the volleys increased in intensity, actually falling within a few feet of us, so we felt obliged to beat as dignified a retreat as we could ‘under fire’.
We thought it necessary to let the ket-khoda know that, though unhurt in body, we were hurt in mind at the indignity we had suffered, whereupon a deputation of the chief men of the place waited upon us, begged us to believe that the casters of the stones were some ruffians from another village whom they had no means of punishing as they deserved, and implored us to say nothing about the matter at Ispahan, or else they, our best and dearest friends, who would not for worlds that a hair of our heads should suffer, would have a heavy fine to pay, and get into discredit at head-quarters; for the Zil-es-Sultan, the Shah’s eldest son, and governor of Ispahan, is only too anxious to get hold of similar causes of complaint, to visit villages in his district with a punishment which would fill his own pockets. Magnanimously we consented to be appeased, and with the interchange of fulsome compliments the deputation departed.
All Yezd-i-khast was out that afternoon, strolling about its ravine and making merry. Here and there a luti, or travelling buffoon, performed odd antics to an admiring audience; dervishes sang quaint ditties in their harsh, sepulchral tones, which with certain ventriloquistic effects were odd enough to listen to. One horrible black-faced dervish perpetually dogged our footsteps, and sang a comic song at the expense of unbelievers, which made us a little nervous after the stone episode of the earlier afternoon; but he left us at last, and pursued more profitable victims. Women were out in great numbers too. Every one seemed gay and intent on holiday-making, and the little town on its rocky perch was almost emptied of its inhabitants.
Next morning early we were in the saddle again; the ket-khoda and chief men of the town were all assembled to bid us farewell and to intreat us once more to say nothing about the episode of the stones; and before the ice had melted on the puddles we were on our weary way once more, and three days saw us in Ispahan.