The northern part of Greece is traversed in its whole length by a range of mountains, the Greek Apennines. This ridge first takes the name of Pindus, where it intersects the northern boundary of Greece, at a point where an ancient route still affords the least difficult passage from Epirus into Thessaly. From Pindus two huge arms stretch towards the eastern sea, and enclose the vale of Thessaly, the largest and richest plain in Greece: on the north the Cambunian hills, after making a bend towards the south, terminate in the loftier heights of Olympus, which are scarcely ever entirely free from snow; the opposite and lower chain of Othrys parting, with its eastern extremity, the Malian from the Pagasæan Gulf, sinks gently towards the coast. A fourth rampart, which runs parallel to Pindus, is formed by the range which includes the celebrated heights of Pelion and Ossa; the first a broad and nearly even ridge, the other towering into a steep conical peak, the neighbour and rival of Olympus, with which, in the songs of the country, it is said to dispute the pre-eminence in the depth and duration of its snows. The mountain barrier with which Thessaly is thus encompassed is broken only at the northeast corner, by a deep and narrow cleft, which parts Ossa from Olympus: the defile so renowned in poetry as the vale, in history as the pass, of Tempe. The imagination of the ancient poets and declaimers delighted to dwell on the natural beauties of this romantic glen, and on the sanctity of the site, from which Apollo had transplanted his laurel to Delphi.
From other points of view, the same spot no less forcibly claims the attention of the historian. It is the only pass through which an army can invade Thessaly from the north, without scaling the high and rugged ridges of its northern frontier. The whole glen is something less than five miles long, and opens gradually to the east into a spacious plain, stretching to the shore of the Thermaic Gulf. On each side the rocks rise precipitously from the bed of the Peneus, and in some places only leave room between them for the stream; and the road, which at the narrowest point is cut in the rock, might in the opinion of the ancients be defended by ten men against a host.
On the eastern side of the ridge which stretches from Tempe to the Gulf of Pagasæ, a narrow strip of land, called Magnesia, is intercepted between the mountains and the sea, broken by lofty headlands and the beds of torrents, and exposed without a harbour to the fury of the northeast gales.
South of this gulf the coast is again deeply indented by that of Malis, into which the Sperchius, rising from Mount Tymphrestus, a continuation of Pindus, winds through a long narrow vale, which, though considered as a part of Thessaly, forms a separate region, widely distinguished from the rest by its physical features. It is intercepted between Othrys and Œta, a huge rugged pile, which, stretching from Pindus to the sea at Thermopylæ, forms the inner barrier of Greece, as the Cambunian range is the outer, to which it corresponds in direction, and is nearly equal in height. To the south of Thessaly and between it and Bœotia lie the countries of Doris and Phocis. Doris is small and obscure, but interesting as the foster-mother of a race of conquerors who became the masters of Greece. Phocis is somewhat larger than Doris, and separates it from Bœotia.
The peculiar conformation of the principal Bœotian valleys, the barriers opposed to the escape of the streams, and the consequent accumulation of the rich deposits brought down from the surrounding mountains, may be considered as a main cause of the extraordinary fertility of the land. The vale of the Cephissus especially, with its periodical inundations, exhibits a resemblance, on a small scale, to the banks of the Nile—a resemblance which some of the ancients observed in the peculiar character of its vegetation. The profusion in which the ordinary gifts of nature were spread over the face of Bœotia, the abundant returns of its grain, the richness of its pastures, the materials of luxury furnished by its woods and waters, are chiefly remarkable, in a historical point of view, from the unfavourable effect they produced on the character of the race, which finally established itself in this envied territory. It was this cause, more than the dampness and thickness of their atmosphere, that depressed the intellectual and moral energies of the Bœotians, and justified the ridicule which their temperate and witty neighbours so freely poured on their proverbial failing.
Eubœa, that large and important island, which at a very early period attracted the Phœnicians by its copper mines, and in later times became almost indispensable to the subsistence of Athens, though it covers the whole eastern coast of Locris and Bœotia, is more closely connected with the latter of these countries. The channel of the Euripus which parts it from the mainland, between Aulis and Chalcis, is but a few paces in width, and is broken by a rocky islet, which now forms the middle pier of a bridge.
A wild and rugged, though not a lofty, range of mountains, bearing the name of Cithæron on the west, of Parnes towards the east, divides Bœotia from Attica. Lower ridges, branching off to the south, and sending out arms towards the east, mark the limits of the principal districts which compose this little country, the least proportioned in extent of any on the face of the earth to its fame and its importance in the history of mankind. The most extensive of the Attic plains, though it is by no means a uniform level, but is broken by a number of low hills, is that in which Athens itself lies at the foot of a precipitous rock, and in which, according to the Attic legend, the olive, still its most valuable production, first sprang up.
Attica is, on the whole, a meagre land, wanting the fatness of the Bœotian plains, and the freshness of the Bœotian streams. The waters of its principal river, the Cephisus, are expended in irrigating a part of the plain of Athens, and the Ilissus, though no less renowned, is a mere brook, which is sometimes swollen into a torrent. It could scarcely boast of more than two or three fertile tracts, and its principal riches lay in the heart of its mountains, in the silver of Laurium, and the marble of Pentelicus. It might also reckon among its peculiar advantages the purity of its air, the fragrance of its shrubs, and the fineness of its fruits. But in its most flourishing period its produce was never sufficient to supply the wants of its inhabitants, and their industry was constantly urged to improve their ground to the utmost. Traces are still visible of the laborious cultivation which was carried by means of artificial terraces, up the sides of their barest mountains. After all, they were compelled to look to the sea even for subsistence. Attica would have been little but for the position which it occupied, as the southeast foreland of Greece, with valleys opening on the coast, and ports inviting the commerce of Asia. From the top of its hills the eye surveys the whole circle of the islands, which form its maritime suburbs, and seem to point out its historical destination.
The isthmus connecting Attica with the Peloponnesus is not level. The roots of the Onean Mountains are continued along the eastern coast in a line of low cliffs, till they meet another range, which seems to have borne the same name, at the opposite extremity of the isthmus. This is an important feature in the face of the country: the isthmus at its narrowest part, between the inlets of Schœnus and Lechæum, is only between three and four miles broad; and along this line, hence called the Diolcus, or Draughtway, vessels were often transported from sea to sea, to avoid the delay and danger which attended the circumnavigation of the Peloponnesus. Yet it seems not to have been before the Macedonian period, that the narrowness of the intervening space suggested the project of uniting the two seas by means of a canal. It was entertained for a time by Demetrius Poliorcetes; but he is said to have been deterred by the reports of his engineers, who were persuaded that the surface of the Corinthian Gulf was so much higher than the Saronic, that a channel cut between them would be useless from the rapidity of the current, and might even endanger the safety of Ægina and the neighbouring isles. Three centuries later, the dictator Cæsar formed the same plan, and was perhaps only prevented from accomplishing it by his untimely death. The above-mentioned inequality of the ground would always render this undertaking very laborious and expensive. But the work was of a nature rather to shock than to interest genuine Greek feelings: it seems to have been viewed as an audacious Titanian effort of barbarian power; and when Nero actually began it, having opened the trench with his own hands, the belief of the country people may probably have concurred with the aversion of the Prætorian workmen, to raise the rumour of howling spectres, and springs of blood, by which they are said to have been interrupted.