rientbtiri 2S&--4* UNIFORM WITH "ORIENT" SUNBEAMS ARCTIC SUNBEAMS OR FROM BROADWAY TO THE BOSPHORUS BY WAY OF THE NORTH CAPE SAMUEL S. COX ILLUSTRATED ORIENT SUNBEAMS OR FROM THE PORTE TO THE PYRAMIDS, BY WAY OF PALESTINE. BY SAMUEL S. COX, Author of "BUCKEYE ABROAD," ' EIGHT YEARS IN CONGRESS," " WINTER SUNBEAMS,' " WHY WE LAUGH," " FREE LAND AND FREE TRADE," "ARCTIC SUNBEAMS," Etc. " The changing seasons and the march of time, The trees, the flowers, the fields, the rivers, Thine ! Heaven, earth and sea, in one harmonious chime, Hymn forth the HOLY GOD the Beautiful, Sublime !" MulUr. NEW YORK G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 27 AND 29 WEST 230 STREET 1882 COPYRIGHT, 1882, Bv G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS. Press of G. P, Putnam's Sons New York CONTENTS OF VOLUME II. CHAPTER I. PAGE The Upper Bosphorus A Home of Healing and a Circle of Delight. . . I CHAPTER II. The Upper Bosphorus Scenes and Associations 8 CHAPTER III. The Towers of Europe and the American College 22 CHAPTER IV. The Upper Bosphorus Prophecies of Turkish Decay Giant's Mount- ain Jason Classic Scenes 37 CHAPTER V. Excursion to the Ancient Ottoman Capital Broussa and its Attractions 46 CHAPTER VI. Constantinople and its People Walls, Gates and Towers 56 CHAPTER VII. Among the Churches and Cemeteries and Around the Walls of Con- stantinople 66 v vi CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. PACK Around Constantinople Among the Dead Fortune-Telling Sacred Waters .................................................... 76 CHAPTER IX. The Old Seraglio St. Sophia The Old Greek Hippodrome The Museum of Ancient Costumes Among the Howling Dervishes. . . 85 CHAPTER X. The Changes in the Turkish Capital Within Thirty Years Dynasty and Dynamite The Tombs of the Sultans ..................... 104 CHAPTER XI. The Ottoman Empire as seen teneath the Surface Its Degeneracy Its Corruption and Venality The Dead Turkish Parliament The United States and Turkey .................................... 117 CHAPTER XII. Reception by the Sultan . . ....................................... 135 CHAPTER XIII. Constantinople Other Changes in Thirty Years .................... 154 CHAPTER XIV. Through the Dardanelles with an Irish Captain Sea Coasts of Asia and its Dead Empires and Cities Domesticities of the People Arabs as Cattle Drovers Jews Persecuted Beirut reached ....... 169 CHAPTER XV. City of Smyrna Waters of Poesy and Mythology Ill-Fated Chios .... 193 CONTENTS. vii CHAPTER XVI. PAGS An Ephesian Day 206 CHAPTER XVII. Ephesus Her Divinities and her Divinity 2l8 CHAPTER XVIII. On the Way to Damascus 230 CHAPTER XIX. Damascus Its Wonders and Glories, Massacres and Mosques Its Tombs and Walls Its Apostolic Memories and Grave of Buckle. . 241 CHAPTER XX. A Hebrew House in Damascus Damascus Mirth and Music 262 CHAPTER XXI. On to the Holy City Jaffa Latrone Ramleh Jerusalem .......... 271 CHAPTER XXII. West Walls of Jerusalem Jaffa Gate Hebrew History Jews and Their Wailing Place and Hope 286 CHAPTER XXIII. The Star in the East What Bethlehem is to-day Scenes of the Saviour's Birthplace , 301 CHAPTER XXIV. The Holy Places of Christianity Olivet and Bethany The Scene of the Ascension 316 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXV. PACE The Holy Places of Christianity A Sunday in Jerusalem Tomb of David The Crucifixion and Sepulchre 327 CHAPTER XXVI. Site of the Temple of Solomon Mosques and Moslems 339 CHAPTER XXVII. A Walk on Holy Ground The Soldiers, Pilgrims, Tourists and Money Changers -Round About Jerusalem The Pool of Bethesda A Visit to the Tombs of the Kings 352 CHAPTER XXVIII. Egypt's Faded Glories Alexandria and Cairo The View from the Citadel A drive to Heliopolis A Glance at the Pyramids 361 CHAPTER XXIX. The Ancient and Modern Land of the Pharaohs Visit to the Sphinx and the Great Pyramid of Cheops 373 CHAPTER XXX. The Pyramids and Tombs 387 CONCLUDING CHAPTER. Boulak Museum Farewell to the Nile 403 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PACE TOWERS OF EUROPE (ROMOLO-HISSAR) Frontispiece THE SULTAN'S PALACE 56 MOSLEM AT PRAYER 188 AQUEDUCT AT EPHESUS 216 THE CITY OF EPHESUS (FROM MOUNT CORESSUS) 218 RUINS OF EPHESUS 220 DIANA EPHESIA 222 GATE OF CITADEL. EPHESUS 224 WALL OF DAMASCUS. , 254 TOMB OF ABSALOM 324 THE HOLY SEPULCHRE 334 ASCENT OF THE PYRAMIDS 396 ix INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. THIS is a companion volume to "Arctic Sun- beams ; or, From Broadway to the Bosphorus, by way of the North Cape." It continues the story of a summer travel in 1881. After a restful sojourn in the capital of the Turk- ish empire, it takes the reader through the holy places of Mohammedan, Hebrew, and Christian, to that land of old renown, Egypt. It indulges in observations upon the present condition of the em- pire of Othman, and its principal and most inter- esting dependencies. Within this shining crescent of travel, Ephesus, Damascus, and Jerusalem are of course included. This volume, like its predecessor, photographs for the eye, rather than elucidates for the mind. The photograph does not disdain to picture the humblest hyssop on the wall ; and it presumes to reproduce the wall itself, with its moats and turrets, sieges and histories. From pine to palm, from pole to pyramid, from the midnight sun of the North to its beams in the Orient, the least as well as the greatest of objects have provoked reverent suggestions and enthu- siasms, which, in the absence of sedate study, may afford recreation to the Dreader, as they did to the author. FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. CHAPTER I. THE UPPER BOSPHORUS A HOME OF HEALING AND A CIRCLE OF DELIGHT. "'Twas a place to revel, to smother, to drown In a bliss inferred by the poet ; For if ignorance be indeed a bliss What blessed ignorance equals this. To sleep, and not to know it ? " HOOD'S MISS KILMANSEGG. IT is Sabbath morning on the European shore of the Bosphorus. Domiciled with our consul and minister, we are at home. " Interterritoriality" is the international doctrine and technical term, and we feel its solace in all its length ; for who could be more comfortable, after our long journey, than ourselves under the roof of our courteous consul, Mr. Heap, and his affable wife ? Besides, is not General Wallace, the new minister, a friend of a score of years, and enjoying with us and his accom- plished wife this novel and delightful life ? As I sit at the balcony, somewhat barred, as in all these houses, I see protruding from his window the Gen- eral's huge meerschaum. Its smoke, mingling with that of my chibouque, flies out upon the blue waves, to mingle with that of the steamers, which are ply- ing up and down and reminding the Turk that there is a peculiar civilization not altogether born of his eastern clime. We are twelve miles from Constantinople. The 2 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. heats and noises of the city affect us not. A fresh wind blows briskly through the opening, a mile above, where the Euxine begins its swift current through the Bosphorus to the Sea of Marmora (Propontis), the Dardanelles, and the Mediter- ranean. This current dashes across the bay, and its reflux, after it strikes our stony quay, makes perpetual seething and murmurous motion, to which the sough of the wind amid the trees and terraced walls adds its high notes. It is difficult to describe the peculiar effect of the sound of these waters as they rush in and play back. They re- mind one of the " Rip-Raps " on a moderate scale, in their irregular unrest, except that there is a sound not unlike that of a cataract or fountain in deep woods, begetting a drowsy hum, like that of multitudes of bees. We have no word to describe it exactly. The French have clapotage a sort of melodious choppiness. Here, after wandering in harsh northern climes, and amid rougher scenes, we find repose, health, and transport. Our home is situated at Therapia. Its very name has a medicinal origin, starting, however, like all the delights of the materia medica, with poison. Medea, daughter of the King of Colchis, where the sheep were folded which bore the Golden Fleece, fell in love with Jason, who took more interest in the fleece than his right of hospitality required. She was quite familiar with things a lady ought not to know, such as charms other than her own. Her magie was not that which is generally con- ceded to the sex. She used it to obfuscate the dragon that guarded the Golden Fleece. She thus became particeps criminis with Jason in the larceny, and fled with him across the Euxine, coming into THE UPPER BOSPHORUS. 3 this beautiful bay, and making, in part, the same journey which we ourselves enjoyed, the other day, in another kind of craft. Here Medea opened her magic box, looked over her drugs, and threw the perilous stuff ashore. The Greeks, for euphony (as we used to say in college), changed Pharmakia into Therapia, which the cooling airs and lofty hills attest to be a " proper name " for health and com- fort. The village signifies a " cure." The primates of the Greek nation came here in early days to dwell, and all the ambassadors have hereabout their summer homes. Here my wife, following the Me- dean example, threw away her drugs, and received healing from the hills, winds, and waters. The myth, therefore, hath much meaning and comfort for us. We never felt so much the kindness of old and new friends of our own people as now. There was no reason why we should have been so kindly re- ceived by our minister and consul. We were not of their party, but when one is abroad how minute party lines look. We were strangers to the consul, although his fame as a patriot in the war, and his 'long service as consul at Tunis, had made for him a notable record ; but the sad experience which Americans are undergoing at home and abroad, as the consequence of the crime of a miscreant, drew us together for mutual sympathy. And is not this the very beatitude of neighborliness, without rea- son, or custom, or price ? It springs forth like the very healing breath of home to give consolation. No amount of reluctance on our part could over- come the gentle urgency of our diplomatic friends and whole-hearted hosts. Nolens volens, we are at home and in measureless content. Not Lonsf 4 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. Branch, Old Point Comfort, Newport, or Mount Desert can compare with this, our summer resort. The dog days do not affect it, and the dust and moil of active life are only a memory. The mon- grel civilization which makes the city below seem coarse, even in the variety and colors of its phases, ' does not intrude here. No dervish whirls or howls, and no narrow streets contract our vision. The Turks have a name for this delightful, dreamy existence. They call it " Kef" The word is produced, as an egg is, by warmth ; for it could not be understood in Trondhjem or Stockholm. It conveys the idea of quiet, ease, coolness, and com- plete repose, physical and spiritual. The senses are just alive enough to enjoy the warm breath, mitigated by the cool zephyr and grateful shade, lulled in sensuous activity, only not apathy, by the sound of remote music or the lapse of refreshing waters. The Turk will have his " Kef" after his bath and with his pipe. He will have it a half day at a time. He will have it with the aid of fount- ains ; or, if not that, with the bubble, bubble of the water in his narghile, as the cooled smoke rises through the long tube to his longing lips, which dreamily cleave to the polished amber. Given a chibouque, a blue sky, the musical waters of the Bosphorus, far from the noise of the going and coming of people, and a host like our consul, and a companion like our minister, and your entire family within ear-shot, and you have the " Kef" we keep in this Ramadan time upon the upper shores of the Bosphorus. The murmur of the waters not only makes music, but prismatic music the spec- trum and the gamut. The waters are as crystal- line as brooks in July, " when we see each grain of THE UPPER BOSPHORUS. 5 gravel." They are deep enough for any craft, and so are called fathomless. It is only their beauty which is unfathomable. A hundred feet from the gateway of our house are these plashing waters, whose silver waves make prism and music in the morning light. On our right, to the north, sweep the green hills along the margin of the bay, at whose base are the summer palaces and beauteous gardens of the European legations and the opulent pashas. Here, too, is a village, which is itself a picturesque locality. These hills become less or- nate as they approach the Euxine ; and on the op- posite shore, in Asia, where there is less moisture from the sea, the hills are denuded of trees and somewhat of grass. Peeping above them on either continent, you may perceive the white lighthouses and the towers of the castles where the Turk com- mands the entrance and exit. This enchantment may not last long ; for the steamers, with their black Cardiff coal-smoke, fling their dusky pennons against the blue sky. All about the bay and river ply, like fairy boats, the long, yellow caiques, rowed by oarsmen in red caps and white clothes. These boats seem, in the clear light and water, to be rather in the air than on the denser element. Their plash, as they clip the waves, is more musical than the songs the boatmen sing as they row. These songs remind us of the south of Spain and north of Africa. They linger in our memory, and have more sadness in their tones than melody. When once heard, they are never forgotten. They grate upon the ear and disturb the harmony of the " Kef." These ori- ental singers, whether Ottoman or Greek, Arme- nian or Arab, should cultivate the Goddess of Si- 6 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. lence, who presides over Painting and Sculpture. They should not vocalize. The chant is fearfully vague and monotonous. The tune is a drawl, as unmusical as the muezzin. The key is sure to be wrong, and the tones nasal. It climbs by ragged, cragged spasms to the top of the chromatic scale, and, yelling discordantly there till exhausted, it drops into a melancholy and abysmal whine, out of which there is no resurrection. Happily the upper Bosphorus is rarely treated to these outdoor per- formances. These caiques are sometimes as regal and gor- geous as our fancy desires. They are furnished with rich rugs, and upon their damask cushions sometimes sit the mystic goddesses of the harem, enveloped in many folds of colored silk or white muslin. It may not be out of place to say that we have been presented to two of these goddesses. Prudence forbids us to mention their names. As the consul and myself were walking on the quay, he was saluted by them from their boat. Hasten- ing to his door, he found them making a call. They were the widow and a sister of a pasha, high in honor. They were appareled like Una, in celes- tial white, but through their yashmak of immacu- late mull their features were easily seen. My wife was presented by Mrs. Heap, and found that they talked French with the best accent and elegant grace. Mr. Heap dared to enter the presence. This was too much for me. I asked audience also, and, by the beard of the prophet ! was admitted. We all took tea together. They could not drink very well without dropping their veils. With curious look I gazed upon these Circassian faces, with their dreamy, beautiful eyes and pure ala- THE UPPER BOSPHORUS. 7 baster skin ; in fact, I shook their lily-white hands at parting, and furbished up a French phrase or so as sweet as " syrups tinct with cinnamon," and then the vision vanished in the barge of beauty, and our "Kef" was renewed with double Orient- alism. We observed in the evening paper a notice from the police (not of this transaction, although it had to be sub rosa) that an order had been issued " to employ thick veils," and not the transparent sub- terfuges which these goddesses now use. As these divinities depart, we seek the balcony to gaze at the shoreless Euxine through the gate- way by which we entered into this enchanted place. There is no horizon but that of sea and sky. As we look, the offing displays ships in full wing, glit- tering in the golden light of the evening. It is impossible to look toward this illimitable margin, without a sense of awe, which takes us out of our human experience into the mysteries of the Un- seen. Are these ships phantoms of a land of myths dreams of poets of the golden age ? There are many golden associations here. Time has not tarnished them. Not that golden eggs are laid by the geese we see driven by Turks along the quay ; nor are the golden pippins of Hesperus sold along with the golden Choussa grapes; nor are the ca'iques of the Golden Horn as sumptuous as the golden barge of Cleopatra ; but there are memories of the Colchian sheep with the golden fleece, which reminded Hood of the golden age of farming, under a golden sun in the golden East ! CHAPTER II. THE UPPER BOSPHORUS SCENES AND ASSOCIATIONS. 'Tts time, alas the mysteries and the lore I came to study on this wondrous shore Are all forgotten in the new delights. The strange wjldjoy, that fill my days and nights . MOORE'S EPICUREAN. :ji r I ^HERE is a road and a path below our win- dow. The sights upon them, are peculiar to the Bosphorus, and serve not a little to break the beauty of the scene and to disenchant us of our odalisque vision. Three hags, of dirty attire, are sitting shoeless in the dust and muttering their plaints to each passer-by. Failing to get alms, they take a bite all round of bread and cucum- ber, varied with raw tomato, and then a sleep. They are aroused in a flutter of spite by a flock of a hundred geese, driven by three traders, who thus traffic along the bank. They are hardly settled in their former attitude, before a Turk, astride of a donkey, with enormous panniers, like wings, sweeps them out of the path ; while the next moment the boatmen who are pulling around the curve, and against the current, a lighter, full of goods and fruits, disturb them again. Full tilt down the dusty road we perceive a small boy of a Mussulman, with a huge club, driving homeward two untractable animals of the same meek family 8 THE UPPER BOSPHORUS. g of misery. Cries of fruit and vegetables arise upon the air, as their venders drag the provision boats along the wharf. In front of the different lega- tions (ours excepted), a mile off, on the shore, are steamers, called stationnaires, which are used by the embassies. In them these ministers sweep down to the great city in pomp and circumstance ; while near each are little tugs, which fly around as ten- ders to the bigger craft. Immediately across the bay there is a mountain, from which Jason looked upon the Euxine, before he ventured forth after that fabled fleece of gold. His name, in the Greek of his time, and thoroughly approved by the schol- ars here as authentic, is carved upon a pillar upon its heights. This is not the only historic or traditional as- sociation with this central spot of our earth. Along these banks, and over these hills, and upon this stream what struggles have taken place between races and religions, fighting for this ground of vantage and seat of empire ! Persian, Scythian, Goth, Greek, Latin, Genoese, Venetian, Turk, Russian, English, French, and Italian, with fleets and armies, striving by force to subdue and hold these places of power, and to settle not merely the position and condition of our races, almost from their genesis, and certainly in their exodus, but de- termining the relations of distant empires and col- onies here at this one pivot of human movement. To-day the same uncertainty remains as to what people shall hold this key to empire. The old problem returns : " Shall the Ottoman still hold his own, or is it his own ? Whose is it ? Or whose shall it be?" The day after we arrived at this our temporary 10 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. home, I made, with the minister, the circuit of this end of the Bosphorus. General Wallace ordered out the legation cai'que. It is some thirty feet long. Three Turks, in their clean, white attire, from the stockings (for they were shoeless) up to their bare necks, pulled their six oars ; while the stout and grave old " cavass " of the legation, Mehmet, with sword by his side and pistol in belt, took the helm, cross-legged and serene. The General and myself sat on soft cushions and smoked, like true be- lievers, the " most virtuous of weeds." Therapia is called, as I have said, " the place of healing," and, while, it is deserving that name, it might also be called the place for fighting. We did not take our cavass along for fear of a fight. The Turks are very peaceful now. The cavass is, however, always prepared. He is the successor of the chaousc/i, or janizary. When Constantinople was made almost untenable for strangers and fj Christians, by reason of this famous band, the custom arose of employing them at the legations for safety ; and, when the janizaries were eradi- cated by Mahmoud II., the custom remained, the name only being changed. Mehmet has been the servitor of the United States for twenty years in this fighting relation. He goes with the minister and his family on every occasion. When Mr. Maynard was minister here, not long since, he made a trip into Thessaly, H and, in some abstract condition of mind, wandered off up a mountain, twelve miles from the ship, in a very brigandish vicinage. He was missing for hours, and great solicitude was felt. Mehmet was nearly crazed. He wrung his hands and cried : " Oh ! has it come to this, that I (Meh- met) should lose my minister? Allah! O Allah! UPPER BOSPHORUS SCENES AND ASSOCIATIONS. XI send him to me, and never more shall he go from my sight." Mr. Maynard appeared, and Mehmet was relieved. What I meant to say was that these were bel- ligerent waters. They form a splendid harbor, deep and broad enough for any vessel or conflict. Here was the theatre of sea-fights long before those between Venetian and Genoese. We skirt the shores of this bay, and cross in the teeth of the strong current and breeze which comes from the direction of the Crimea. We row over the waters which flash against the outer walls of a sultan's palace, and remark that every place has its soldiers on guard. What exquisite palace of white marble is that on the Asiatic side, embosomed in trees and guarded as if it were a prison ? That is also one of the Sultan's elegant homes. It is just now holding in gentlest durance the Sheik of the Kurds, who was found in rebellion against his sultanic majesty. Strange, is it not, that these Kurds are the very tribe from which Xenophon, in his retreat, received the hardest fighting ? After several thousand years, its chief looks out, a prisoner in his " re- treat," upon the thirty odd steamers which make the round of the Bosphorus every day. Along these shores were once temples to Jupi- ter, Neptune, and Diana, and nine other divinities, who were appeased by the Greeks before they ven- tured over the .^Egean and Euxine. The evidence of these shrines of piety has been found in Greek inscriptions of the period. In later days of the Greek Christian domination, these hills and the mountains behind them were covered with churches and monasteries ; but the main attraction is the I2 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. classic Greek remnants, which find verification in a thousand ways. The mosques, which superseded the churches, are of less interest, as, generally, the classic and Christian decorations are whitewashed or despoiled. From the promontory at the mouth of the sea to the Tower of Medea, which is now a lighthouse, and from Giant's Mountain to the fiovs nopos (the passage of the ox), from which comes the name of the straits, there is no more beautiful spot, according to natural attraction, than the old castle which the Turks made, to subdue the last of the Greek Empire. At every turn General Wallace repeats his ob- servation, as if it had not already made an indeli- ble impression : " I tell you, sir, that this is only a Turkish encampment, head-quarters down at Con- stantinople. Soldiers everywhere. Why, our in- terpreter was in America the other day. He came back, and said he hadn't seen a soldier while there four months. Didn't see a uniform ; but here one sees hardly anything else." Varying our talk with incidents of " Billy the Kid," just shot by the sheriff in New Mexico, and making our connection between the Orient which we observe and the Orient (through the Spanish- Moorish-Mexican race, which the General has gov- erned so recently) which we have in America, making the sheriff and the sheik, the alcalde of California and the caliph of Bagdad fraternal in philology, we take a sharp turn around a point, into and within the " Sweet Waters of Asia," un- der the promontory of Lembos. There the eupho- nious Geuk-Soo makes its little stream reflect the Castle of Asia, built in 1393, by Sultan Bajazit, surnamed Thunder. It was built for the subju- UPPER BOSPHORUS SCENES AND ASSOCIATIONS. ^ gation of Constantinople, and played its part in the action. Glancing up at its old walls and towers, here and there decked with vegetation, we espy two storks, looking proudly down upon us. The General's fingers itched for his gun. There was blood in his eye. The picture was quite enchanting, as the even- 1 ing was settling down upon the scene. When we passed up the " Sweet Waters " we observe lazy Turks fishing and eating ; notice upon the shores a few eunuchs watching the odalisques, who are out upon the banks for a stroll, enveloped in their yashmak, which faintly conceals their features and their form. Having surveyed these waters, we turn our boat out upon the Bosphorus and steer for the Euro- pean side, keeping in view the large round towers of the Castle of Europe. They rise in superb grandeur above their battlements, and out of the surrounding wood and houses. We pass over the very spot spanned many hun- dred years before the Saviour by the bridge of boats on which Darius, king of kings, with his 700,000 men, crossed for the conquest of the Scy- thians. But Darius is not the main attraction here ; nor is it the fact that here the Bosphorus is swift and narrow ; but above us is the most ex- quisite mediaeval fortress extant. It is large, with winding walls and three grand round towers, and is celebrated as well for its strength and permanency as for its history. It was built in four months, under such orders as only a Mahommedan sultan could give, and under promises of honors beyond all the dreams of wealth. It was the head of that anaconda which Mahommed II. made to swing A4 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. around and crush what was left of the Greek Em- pire. Still further below the towers of Roumelia (or Europe) is a beautiful kiosk, built for some sultan, upon the site of a temple of the chaste Diana. Many houses are under the shadow of the towers, and below them is a cemetery, full of turbaned tomb- stones, of which but few seem to be cared for. At this interesting point the narrowness of the river makes the " Devil's Current," and we summon some genii of terrible turbans and brown aspect to assist our boat around the rapids. The excitement of the pull is not great, as the wind is not aiding the current. Soon we pass beneath the throne of Darius, in the college-grounds on high, and from which his army was watched as it passed over to Europe. The present here combines with the past, for we are told by our helmsman : " This is the palace of Young Turkey, or Reshid Pasha, purchased of him by the Sultan Abdul Assiz, for his daughter, who married Reshid's son." Cypress groves are passed, and then we turn about the point which leads us into the Bay of Stenia. It is full of Grecian associations of the earlier day, which Constantine transmuted into Christian romance ; for here the " winged genius " which encouraged the Argonauts was transformed into the Archangel Michael. Palaces were here built and destroyed ; villages have come and gone ; maritime contests were here waged Nature hav- ing fitted this bay as one of the grand theatres in this grandest of historic centres. A few more dashes of the oar, and our tired men wipe the sweat from their brows, receive their stipend from Mehmet, and we are upon our own UPPER BOSPHORUS SCENES AND ASSOCIATIONS. I5 steps at our landing. There is no star or stripe flying over it. It is sad in our household, for the President is dying. The English embassy, near by, has its ensign saucily snapping at every breeze. Our own home is not as gay in oriental arabesque as the Persian palace which we have passed ; nor does it look so mysterious as the silent houses and pal- aces, guarded by soldiers, along the route where the Turkish millionaires and rulers live ; but we find it most attractive in its hospitality and its position. Before the sun goes down, we stroll into its garden, and survey the round trip we have taken. Under a mountain ash upon our terrace, we look far out through the open door of the Euxine. The water seems more restless and fretful, almost worried, as it rushes down to find its barrier against the piers at our feet. Our garden is not without its ham- mock, out of which you may see, between the urns upon our balustrade, the active scenes and splendors of the bay and stream. Below us, on the street, carriages and equestrians fly by ; and ladies, in bundles of many clothes, awkwardly shuf- fle, followed by black and white servants. One of the company's boats which flies the red flag with star and crescent, and makes its voyage from Galata Bridge to this point, flashes by, laden with its motley groups of passengers. A dozen fishermen are trying their luck along the shore. Every moment a ca'ique comes in sight, making for the village of embassies across the bay, which is sur- rounded, like another Como, with its manifold villas. For a moment the oriental loveliness is stained by the smoke of the steamer, only to brighten into golden lustre under the sinking sun. There is a gala at the Austrian legation. Its t 6 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. stationnaire boat is decked and gay with flags. It is the emperor's birthday, and we are promised an illumination to-night. The little yacht, bearing its Austrian colors, plies about in eager activity. These evidences of modern interests and people do not detract from the dreamy memories of the elder world, which pursue our eye and entrance our fancy, as we glance between the mystic pillars of that gateway to the north. In the midst of these reveries I am unroman- tically called to tea. But does one need the " cup that cheers " in such a scene ? I am oblivious in the intoxicating draught of pure air which is ever laden with freshness, the more enjoyable because in such contrast with our ruder Scandinavian and Russian experiences. Preferring a higher and sweeter taste of life than tea and its inspiring talk, I wander into the garden on the southern side of our home. The magnolias are yet in bloom, and the evening air is freighted with the fragrance of the flowers in parterres and along the uprising terraces. Winding up amidst their paths, with walls of ivy and plats of flowers, we reach the uppermost and outermost wall of this enchanting garden. These grounds were laid out by a Frenchman. They are called after his name, with the affix of " Folly." If they be as foolish as they were ex- pensive, it illustrates the biblical phrase as to those who plant vineyards while others eat the fruit thereof. Clambering to the topmost wall, above the vegetable garden, I look out to the bare hills behind the terraced beauties, and then far off to the Asiatic mountains and to the battlements we have closely surveyed in our boat. The ranges of UPPER BOSPHOR US SCENES AND A SSOCIA T10NS. x 7 yellow and white palaces under the European hills across the bay are beginning to make magical their marble magnificence in the mirroring water, which is calming with the mildness of evening. Fancy is assuming or usurping the throne of reality. The Bosphorus becomes a telescope. From the emi- nence its valley is an iridescent tube, ground out by fire and clarified by water. With the license of a little more phantasy and a large map, there is larger view. Looking through the haze of dis- tance, as it were a magnifying-glass or channel of vision, to the north-west, there is seen on one line, 350 miles across the Black Sea, Sebastopol, with its hills of battle and vales of culture. Looking south, we should see at the same distance as the Crimea, the snow and cloud of the Asian Olym- pus ; while at double the distance we might peep, pigmy-like, between the huge legs of the Colossus at Rhodes, if the earthquake and the usurer had only left its brassy proportions astride the harbor ; and discern still further on, into the desert of Africa, on the borders of Egypt, the oasis of Ammon, gladdening the heart of the chrono- logical Bedouin with dates and his camels with water. The illumination begins at the embassies, and the stars glisten doubly in sky and river. The scent of the flowers below rises, while the acacia, orange, and lemon furnish their foliage, fruit, and fragrance for the delightful picture. Around our feet are rare plants, whose names are unfamiliar ; but the laurel, althea, verbena, and lavender are old friends. Upon the hills about, as thick as sol- diers, rise the Lombardy poplars and funereal cy- press, making as lovely a scene as ever wave jg FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. washed, leaf beautified, or sun glorified. It is a scene where " The winds with wonder whist, Smoothly the waters kist, Whispering new joys.'' No wonder the current of one's thoughts flows with the ceaseless tide below, unrestrained by no power save that " arbitrary Queen of Sense," by which, as those tranced, we are held in thralldom. And to think that, amidst all these lovely scenes and floral delights, this splendid seat of temporal and religious power should be the favorite haunt of luxury and putrescence. Brothers may not now kill brothers who are too near the Ottoman throne ; the mysterious Bosphorus may not now drown the too-froward odalisque ; its waters may not now bring to the haughty Moslem the treasures of the Orient and the beauties of Circassia, or bear na- vies equal to those of powers further west, by which he is "guaranteed" ; or, as " Eothen " has it about this restless river of divers and sinister memories, " it may not watch the walls of the Sul- tan's serail, or quiet the scandals of his court, or stifle the intrigue of his ministers, or extinguish his rivals, or hush his naughty wives one by one," or do these and other vast wonders of the Deep, with- out the world knowing it somewhat. But still this River of Revenge and its depths of despair have, within the few years since I saw it last, had stormy seasons, guilty eddies, desperate currents, noisy and noisome scandals, many a wreck of minister and sultan, and many a crime most foul, to turn its green " one red." Yet, with all these changeful chases, its current is still as clear as ever. UPPER BOSPHORUS SCENES AND ASSOCIATIONS. I9 and it still trends toward the Propontis and the world without and beyond. On our way to our legation to-day, were we not shown the palace where -the last Sultan, Abdul Assiz, was said to be strangled, and the hole in the wall through which his body was borne for the ex- amination ? If this sultanic power be on the wane and no longer "crescent"; if its splendors are fading like evening out of the European sky ; if many of the thousand crimes which link the Bos- phorus with the execrations of mankind are as hideous as ever, they are certainly not as common or as impunitive now as when the " Magnificent " Suleimans ruled by a rod or a scimitar, a sack or a bow-string, and gave " fiat " from the furthest India to the gates of Hercules. Yet I am painfully reminded by excesses in our beloved land, where a President lies hovering be- twixt two eternities, that it is not for us to reproach others of scandals and assassinations. As the cur- tain of night is drawn over these scenes of outward loveliness if, indeed, that be a curtain which is only a folded wimple, like that over the features of the Nourmahal the stars come forth, not singly, but in multitudes, appareled in celestial light. The Orient hath, indeed, its compensations for excesses. My mind darts back to the Arctic Circle and its nightlessness. The stellar glories of these skies, like pearls at random flung, come to me in meditations that trail in mysterious awe after the constellations through this deep oriental heaven. A sweeter sonnet was never sung than that of Blanco White, wherein he describes Hesperus leading the hosts of heaven in the rays of the great setting flame, whose glorious canony of li^ht and blue make us blip- 1 ^ 2 o FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. such countless orbs. His questioning is the phi- losophy of mystery as he inquires why we should shun Death with anxious strife ; for if Light can thus deceive, wherefore not Life ? Is it not true that the stellar boss of Night contributes best to spiritual insight and foresight ? I picture the con- sternation of those bold Vikings, for whom the sea had no terrors, when first they saw this heaven of night enveloped with stars ; for those bold Norse- men, from whose ancient homes we are newly come, did not omit far-off Stamboul in their adventures. Nor did I wonder that men even from the land of Boreas, with its setless sun, here worshiped the in- finite and uncreate God, the author of this heaven and its myriad hosts, and with pious earnestness bore its knowledge to the rocks and snows of Northland ; for out of the heart of this Orient, as out of the eastern sky, and before the dawn of our physical advancement and science, the star of Bethlehem flamed in these nocturnal heavens, lighting the seers of other lands, besides those of the North, to the spot where lay the Babe of Beth- lehem. Thus musing I recalled the " tale of the Christ," which our gifted and gallant host has told in his "Ben Hur." It is a story of divine love. As I recalled it, the weird scenes of the desert of Judea came upon me with an all hail ! hereafter. We bid them, though at distance, hail, as Hope lightens our heart and waves her golden hair. Thither we as pilgrims are tending. There, under the infinite stillness of the eastern sky, the wise men of the East met to compare their inward experiences and enjoy their mutual ecsta- sies. Through their inner light of faith, and by the UPPER BOSPHOR US SCENES AND ASSOCIATIONS. 2 i lambent flame which became a stellar focus of celestial promise they followed, star-led, till they found " the Christ." CHAPTER III. THE TOWERS OF EUROPE AND THE AMERICAN COLLEGE. Revolution may change the face of nature and sweep nations from the earth ; custom and habit and exterior circumstances may change and pass away, but the inner life of man, with all its joy and hope and love and sorrow and care, remains the same in every nation and in every age intensively active and grand and inter- esting. BULWER. WE have been three weeks and more in Con- stantinople. The time goes by as in a dream. Although the weather is hot, we have found comfort, both at Therapia and at the hotel in the city, which overlooks and is cooled by the Bospho- rus and Golden Horn. The city is also a summer resort, with all the attraction of water and mountain aspect. Besides, it has the movement of cjouds, smoke, steamers, boats and sails, and the unresisting flow of the stream, which here begins to contemplate a rush toward the Dardanelles through Marmora. To these is added in plain view, under the moon, now full, or under the brightest of sunlight, the domes and minarets which give to Constantinople its individuality among cities. The sounds which rise about us are those of the bells, for an active Catholic church is near, and there is much devotion within its walls ; then the cries of venders, which after daybreak are incessant, or the clamor of the dogs baying at the moon or at a strange dog, or a canine chorus in full agony ; or the metallic ring 22 TOWERS OF EUROPE AND THE AMERICAN COLLEGE 23 by night of the watchman's staff upon the stone pavements, or his startling alarm of fire, as he wends his way amidst the narrow lanes down the declivity to the shopping centres. Nor ought it to be for- gotten, as one of the sounds now familiar, that we have each hour a salvo of bugle-music or of artillery from the forts on both sides of the Bosphorus, which indicates more than anything else that these seven hills of Byzantium are an encampment, realizing the Byronic lines that " The city won for Allah from the Giaour, The Giaour from Othman's race again may wrest.'* Indeed, it is asserted and known that the Turks have always kept their archives packed in knapsacks, ready for a movement into Asia, believing that what the Koran records will take place, and that the Moslem "must go" to Asia, whence he came. The most attractive spot on the Bosphorus, as well as the narrowest, is the three-towered "fortress of Europe." It is called Romolo-Hissar. It eter- nizes the fate and fall of the city. It is a perpetual object of admiration to the stranger, as he goes up and down the river. It is situated midway between the city and the legation at Therapia. One of the attractions near the spot is the American College, founded by Mr. Robert, of New York. Around this fortress and college live the professors. Among them is Professor Grosvenor, who for thirteen years has been teaching Greek, and has a responsible po- sition in the direction of the College. I will not say that we are friends, because he happened to be of "my party." He is a clergyman, of the Congre- gational Church ; but, be he what he may, it was my good fortune to meet him here for the first time 24 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID, in this Eastern World, though he declares that he has represented me in the world of dreams. This is the story he tells : He was in Faneuil Hall, in 1872, when Horace Greeley was running for Presi- dent, and on the stand and about to speak, when the presiding officer demanded his name. He ut- terly forgot his own and gave mine, and was in- troduced with thundering applause. He proceeded to make a speech on the line of amnesty and brotherhood ; and, when through, was received with congratulations so pronounced that he awoke. This was a strange psychological fact, related far off here by a gentleman of probity, who became thoroughly identified with another person, losing his own identity. Inasmuch as he had personated me so much better than I could myself, and had come to have a sort of property in me, we yielded to his invitation, and resolved to visit his home at the towers near the College. Our boat-ride was as lovely as usual, and in an hour we were at our haven. Professor G. and his little son were there to receive us. My wife was soon seated in a palanquin, which two hamals took in charge one before and one behind. "Thus mounted, escorted by the gentlemen," says her journal, " we climbed the hill and reached the house. The ropes over the shoulders of the porters held the two ends of the poles in loops to either hand, and made the chair quite an easy method of riding, besides reminding me of my ascent up Mount Vesuvius. Poor fellows ! They patiently plodded upward, and when they de- posited their burden (only 125 pounds) on the hos- pitable doorstep, the perspiration was pouring from them. I was not allowed to pay an extra TOWERS OF EUROPE AND THE AMERICAN COLLEGE. 25 piastre, as 'they might be spoiled for other occa- sions.' ' We find a pretty garden, a sweet hostess, and a cordial welcome. The new matting on the floors gives forth a fragrant odor, and we comfort our- selves with the hope that it harbors no fleas, to which the Turkish rugs give overmuch welcome. Thus speaks the observant housewife of domestic objects, to which I never had an eye, single or other- wise ; but I did observe in the household an abun- dance of books. Here I found every book which one might need to understand the decline and fall, the increase and rise of the nations which have come and gone along these shores. What a field for luxurious study is right here. The illustration of each epoch and incident graved by the finger of the Almighty on the hills and mountains, rocks and waters, is within our vision. The two million of composite races who people the places on each side of this river of the centuries are mostly the remnant of races whose old roads and ruts show the move- ments of men, as the rocks show the movements of glaciers. The fallen or disfigured columns which stand about these hippodromes of the past, the broken arches, crumbling aqueducts, dirt-filled cis- terns, dilapidated palaces, and the half-hid courts of mosaic these, as the existing inscriptions show, were once erected and made by great emperors, adventurers, or conquerors. They represent a pop- ulation once dense, who lived upon these now fruit- less, though once fertile hills and plains, which they then made gardens, and whose coasts furnished marts of commerce, the most magnificent in the world. This home of our American professor is a charm- 2 (S FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. ing place to visit. The house is built on an American pattern, for convenience. The garden is large, where, literally under his own vine and fig- tree, the professor may rest after his labors in the College, across the valley. Before we were fairly settled, or had our first meal, we were with him in the great tower of the fortress, overlooking this classic and historic ground. To reach it, we did not require a palanquin, for it was nearly all down-hill, through narrow paved streets, past old mosques, deserted minarets, and tumble-down houses, now habited by a kindly people. Mrs. G. called them "peaceful neighbors." They were all Turks, for within the fortress live only the descendants of those who held it when Mohammed II. took the city. They hold these old houses by some feudal tenure. They cannot be dispossessed. There is a law, however, that when once the houses are destroyed by fire or otherwise then the grounds are to be cleared. At one point about the Professor's grounds a confla- gration would be a blessing, for it would open a new and beautiful view to the Upper Bosphorus. There are three of these immense towers in this extensive fortress. The largest and highest is that in our frontispiece. It is in good preservation, and is in constant demand for the pencil of amateurs, es- pecially from the Bosphorus point of view. The stairway, with its thick walls, remains intact. Many rooms, once used for storage of provisions, are yet preserved, though of wood. The floors of the tower are going to decay. The tower has a diameter of 50 feet. It has in its gloomy side vaults and rooms. It is the very genius of safety as a prison or a refuge. It would seem as if its walls were invincible, TOWERS OF EUROPE AND THE AMERICAN COLLEGE. 27 at least, against the olden modes of assault. We get glimpses from its port-holes of the scenery about, as we ascend to its battlemented top, which is 250 feet above the stream. The College stands about on a level with the tower ; and to the south and west the hills and mountains of Europe appear veiled in lustrous beauty. Below us, within the walls which climb the acclivity, turreted and wind- ing, is the old Turkish village, with thick clusters of wooden houses ; while far off, above Therapia and along the river to the gate of the Euxine, the superb villas of ambassadors and pashas glisten in the evening light. " Here is a vulture's nest ! " exclaims the Professor. And, sure enough, this bird of prey has made this tower his eyrie, and, like the Turk of earlier years, from hence has pounced upon weaklings below. We descend, after our exalted view, and have a pleasant dinner, which reminds our " housewife" of " the welcome by a minister-missionary at his home in the Piraeus, some thirty years ago." "At eleven," says the journal, "we have family prayers, in which our host made kindly and touching mention of the guests under his roof-tree." We must confess, albeit in a public way, that the calamity which impends over the White House at home has made us Ameri- cans abroad more tenderly regardful of and toward each other in all the relations of life. After descending from the tower, we ramble about the fortress and its paths. We are pointed out the home of a most learned pasha. He some- times lives within this latticed and humble house. His odalisques are the old Sanscrit and other records of the past, to which he gives a devotion quite like that of his relatives in the days when Cordova had 2 g FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. its Moorish university, and Spain was ennobled by Saracenic learning. On leaving the fortress, my wife, with the habits of her sex, turned to look over her shoulder, and descried a mystic letter over its gateway. It was hidden beneath the dust of two centuries. The observant Professor had never seen it till now. He deciphers it as a Turkish monogram of the Sultan Mohammed II., who built the fortress. This dis- covery was received with satisfaction, and the lady was at once established as an applicant for a medal of the archaeological associations. She had already discovered a thousand-year old pattern key in the old Greek church (now a mosque) at Eyoob. It was a labyrinth used in modern embroidery. If all other signs failed, it would fix the origin and quality of the building. Hence, we felt a double pride in our archaeological angel. This is an archaeological age. Only the other day there were thirty-nine mummified Pharaohs found in nice linen and in lacquered coffins kings, queens, and their children, including the veritable scriptural hard-hearted Pharaoh. Cases within cases, with papyri, preserved the body and fame of these dynas- ties of Egypt. One of the cases was broken into three parts ; but the Egyptologists were enabled to make out that it was no less than Thothmes III., the great king of the eighteenth dynasty. Granite sarcophagi held these dead royalties, all sceptred. Sometimes sheets of gold were found enveloping the dead, very dead remains. Facial portraits and serpents, blue cobalt head-gear, and inscriptions in very fast colors were discovered, to illuminate the Egyptian darkness. The Boulak Museum contains these relics of remote antiquity. We hope to see TOWERS OF EUROPE AND THE AMERICAN COLLEGE. 29 them ; and we have a right to see them, for has not one of our family found fame as an archaeologist on the Bosphorus, which Pickwick, in his crude en- deavor to decipher " Bill Sykes x his mark," could not attain ? Coming out of the Flag-tower of the Great Fortress of Europe, a tower upon which hung the destiny of two great races and religions, the tower by which Constantinople was besieged had she not discovered the magic letter over that gateway, and in Turkish script ? Our learned friend, the Professor, at once said : " It is an M. You, Madam, are made immortal with an M. Your im- mortality shall go down with one ' M.' ' Mohammed II. ! He that rode into the grandest church on horseback ! Let Schliemann turn up all Troy for the decoration of his wife with the parure of Helen's head-dress ; let him dig around to find the bones of the suitors for Penelope's hand, while Ulysses was a-wandering, and find, if he please, the very distaff with which she used to kill time ; let Cesnola emulate Layard, and Newton and Wood emulate the archaeologists of all ages ; let Nineveh and Babylon, Baalbec and Troy, Thebes and Cy- prus, Kertch and Jerusalem give to the living their dead secrets to bridge over the epochs of history- it remained for one of us, without delving or dig- ging, with the inspiration of only a woman's curios- ity, to discover the hidden magical M which makes complete the confirmation that Mohammed made this monumental magnificence to memorize his majesty. Besides, are we not from Ohio, within whose borders are now being found terra-cotta tab- lets, an alphabet, and zodiacal symbols, which bind the prehistoric period with our own, and the ex- treme East with the West ? 30 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. What next may not a watching and wondering world expect from us ? We visit Ephesus next week, Baalbec the week after, and Damascus and Jerusalem, and the sphinxes and pyramids before we leave the portals which lead to the earlier and eastern civilizations. No need for us to obtain firman or employ natives. We can sing to other genii of these old haunts of history : *' Dig, dig, dig amid earth and mortar and stone, And dig, dig, dig among ruins overthrown ; Spade and basket and pick and toiling Arabs ply, From breath of early dawn till evening shades draw nigh." For without this labor the spirits of the vasty deep of the past answer our summons. Seriously, what an exultant enthusiasm is there in discovering by patient research, reasoning, and digging, the characters of ruined races ; and in their monuments their relict religions, dead constitutions, obsolete systems of order, and mysterious mazes of language. Minds like Gladstone perceive in such ruins the life of the Juventus Mundi. A good trav- eler, like Lord DufTerin, finds, as he related to me, in an old path of empire, on the shores of the east- ern Mediterranean, the records of seven expeditions engraved upon the rocks, from Sennacherib to Louis Napoleon. Men test the soil for fruit, grain, gold, and iron, and by eye and chemistry find pleasure in these discoveries. Dust-delvers were never so busy as now. Soil cultivators of another kind seek for links in the chain of history. They find " pictured rocks," left by men, and chronic moral strata, before Carthage was, or Rome existed, or the revelations of Deity were vouchsafed to man. We are up betimes, and I devour the books TOWERS OF EUROPE AND THE AMERICAN COLLEGE. 3! which are the key to these positions in history. My first inquiry is as to this fortress. Its history is briefly this: In 1451, two years before Constanti- nople fell, when the Greek empire was honey- combed with corruption, Mohammed II., who was, drawing his lines about its capital, and with much guile and cunning hiding his object, had con- 1 structed in forty days this triangular fortress, with its three towers. One of them is on the shore be- low, and the two others upon the hills. Khalil Pasha, a friend of the Greeks, known as the " asso- ciate of infidels," built the lower tower. The first Mohammed had already built the Castle of Ana- dolou, on the opposite side of the Bosphorus, and this Castle of Europe was to be its coadjutor in taking the city below. The Greek emperor, whose family had held this point of greatness, commerce, and empire so long, could hardly believe that he would be so seriously menaced. He sent envoys to the Sultan, who sent them back with arrogant denunciations. Mean- while the Sultan had collected his masons. He brought his wood from Nicomedia, now Ismed (to which there is now a railroad seven hours off), at the eastern end of the Sea of Marmora. He planned the fortress at the place where the waves are loudest, called Phonea, or the Echo, and en- deavored to imitate by its shape the Arabic letters of the word Mohammed. In fact, the four towers together form the four letters in the name M, H, M, D. The fortress being up and down, and scraggy generally, a good archaeologist, like one of my fam- ily, could easily discover these Arabic characters in this higgledy-piggledy arrangement of walls and towers. This intelligent plan being settled upon, 32 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. three generals ( Khalil, Chakan, and Saricha) were assigned the duty of making the three great towers. Each of the 1,000 masons had to build two yards, while the workmen who answered to the call of " Mort ! " were to hurry and cement the work. Greek churches were torn to pieces to furnish the material. The name of the lower castle was " Strait Cutter." It was built in three months, and was thirty feet thick. It commanded the river and levied tribute on all ships. Upon the big tower, which we ascended, guns were lifted, and stone balls of enormous size were, thrown from them. All these monuments remain in such perfectness as to astonish the beholder. Other memories are associated with the spot, " Here," said the Professor " here is the most notable place in ancient or modern history. When Darius arrived upon the Bosphorus, the bridge was joined by which his army passed into Europe, or into Scythia, about 500 years before Christ. It is yonder, a little higher up, where the current is not so strong. The bridge of boats swung around from the Asiatic shore, under the eye of the Persian monarch. This spot here is yet called the ' Throne of Darius.' The rock, in the form of a throne, re- mained. It is now covered by the fortress. If the fort is ever torn down, the two columns of white stone will, doubtless, appear. The inscriptions upon them are in Assyrian and Greek, and contain the names of the nations over which Darius ruled." " See here!" said I to the Professor, " is it not a heavy load of credulity for me to carry home this army of 700,000 coming over here on a bridge ? " " The proof is in the history." he replied. "It says 70 myriads, and 10,000 to a myriad. Also 600 ships." TOWERS OF EUROPE AND THE AMERICAN COLLEGE. 33 " How do you know the bridge was built ?" " Here it is," taking down his Herodotus. "We know that Mandrokles, of the Isle of Samos, was the bridge contractor. We have that in writing. See here ! Book IV., 88th paragraph, original Greek. I will translate and write it down. "'Mandrokles having built a bridge across the Fishy Bosphorus, dedicated a picture of it to Juno. By the execution of this design of Darius, Mandro- kles gained glory for the Samoans and obtained a crown or reward.' ' ; "What did he send a picture of it to Juno for? Why not to Mars, or Minerva, or some other divin- ity?" I ask. The Professor looked puzzled. At length he said : " I have it ! Mandrokles lived on Samos. You may know that Virgil says that Samos held Juno in especial regard, and this was a neat way of pleas- ing his fellow-citizens." " Why," I ask, " does the inscription call this the Fishy Bosphorus ? Is it because there are so many fishy stories ?" " See here ! Don't try any of Mark Twain's snapperadoes on a young man like me, away from home. There is another Bosphorus, on the coast of Azof, and this is the fishy one. Why, I saw your wife fishing on it yesterday at Therapia, and you may see porpoises at play every day." " Yes, and she caught four fish, two inches each in length. If Darius resorted to a miracle to feed his army on these fish, I can comprehend it. But a truce to scepticism. I swallow it, fish and all ; for nothing is more marvelous than yonder Amer- ican College on this historic hill. Let us make our visit to it." 34 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. The College is five stories, and substantial. It has an inner, well-lighted court and a mansard roof, giving air, as well as light, to each room. The students number about 200, and room in the building. One-third of them are Armenians, one- third Bulgarians, and the rest Franks, Poles, Eng- lish, etc. We wandered into the laboratory and then into the library. The first book I opened was entitled " Religion of the East," with impres- sions of foreign travel, by Dr. J. Hawes, D.D., pastor of the First Church in Hartford, Conn. It was printed in 1845. ^ was ric ^ m independent thought about this land of religions, and in devoted love to our own land. The first sermon has as its text : " The lines have fallen unto me in pleasant places." In it he repeats what has been upon our tongue ever since we- began our journey, "Souls are ripened in our northern skies," exclaims this divine. After making his pictures of the meretri- cious splendors of the East, he breaks forth with rapture over "our own goodly land, with its mighty resources, its free institutions, its countless bless- ings social, civil, literary, and religious which pour around us the light of Heaven, to warm every grateful heart. America ! God's last dispensation towards our world ! This act passed, the scene closes, the curtain of time drops, and the glories of eternity are revealed. The College has a museum in embryo, to which we were escorted by a daughter of Dr. Long, in the absence of her father, who presides over phys- ical science ; then into Dr. Washburn's rooms, who is the head of the College, and where the ladies dipped into the mysteries of Turkish embroider- ies, flowers, plants, and portieres ; and, after a TOWERS OF EUROPE AND THE AMERICAN COLLEGE. 35 beautiful view over the scenes below and the Col- lege grounds, which are assuming a park-like ap- pearance, we return to our host's house and pre- pare for the descent to the landing. While waiting for the steamer, the Professor smokes his narghile, while I watch the groups of Armenians, Greeks, and Turks, priests and lay- men, fruit-sellers, boys and men, in every variety of costume and detail of raggedness. Looking around at this rout of ragged rascals, gathered on the dock, we inquire if it be safe for Madam and the American women hereabouts. "We never come down," she says, "except through the village. The cemetery yonder is a nest of danger." " Did you ever think of putting these towers to any use I mean strategetically ? " " Oh ! yes/' said Madam, the hostess having in view the protection of her boys, to say nothing of the husband, " we thought of making this tower a refuge in the time of the Russian War, in case of disaster or rapine. The College could have manned it." Would it not have been a climax, to have had an American college holding the " Fortress of Europe" and the throne of Darius against the Russian Czar and his hosts ? Apropos of this was the conversation which the Professor held with a Persian ambassador. He was the kindest of men, and took care to make the cor- dialities between his once grand kingdom and the rest of the world. When he made a visit to the College, not long since, the Professor said to him : "This spot must be most interesting to you, as 3 6 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. a Persian. Here was the marble throne from which Darius saw his army cross the Bosphorus." " When was it ? " he asked. " Oh! some five hundred years before Christ." "Ah! What did he come here for?" the min- ister asked. " To make war on the Scythians." "Just so," said the Persian. " It was well done. The Scythians had displeased us, hey ? " " Oh ! greatly," said the Professor. " They pre- sumed to exist, and were not tributary to Darius, king of kings !" We leave these scenes of historic splendor and present squalor, pondering upon the great even- tualities here once determined and to be deter- mined. Is it not one of the most interesting spots of Europe ? Not alone because here Europe al- most touches Asia physically ; not because the swarms of invaders and crusaders, Goths and Turks, have here crossed and recrossed ; but be- cause the spot is doubly distinguished by momen- tous events. Turn in your mind the strangest pivots of history the destruction of Rome by the Gauls > the siege of Leyden, the discovery of Amer- ica, the beheading of Charles I., the landing of the Pilgrims, the burning of Moscow, the battles of Cressy, Pultowa, Marston Moor, and Waterloo, Trafalgar, the Declaration of American Indepen- dence, the taking of the Bastile, and other signal events upon which world-wide policies have turned yet you will not discover in them, each and all, such universality of significance as is here found to bridge over the ancient and modern worlds and the oriental and occidental civilizations. CHAPTER IV. THE UPPER BOSPHORUS PROPHECIES OF TURKISH DE- CAYGIANT'S MOUNTAIN JASON CLASSIC SCENES. If one seeks More comprehensive scale, tti arithmic mounts By the Asankya, which is the taie Of all the drops that in ten thousand years Would fall on all the worlds by daily rains Thence unto Maha Kalpas, by the which The Gods compute their future and their past. ARNOLD'S " LIGHT OF ASIA." ONE of the pleasant excursions planned by our friends at Therapia was to the Giant's Mountain, opposite our home, with the Consul. The mountain is higher than it seems, and also steeper, so that much preparation is made for the ascent. Besides, as we go through an encampment of Turks on the Asiatic side, we propose, for safety, a large party. Major-Gen. Wallace, our Minister, with his revolver, was commander enough, and the wife of our Consul acted as commissary. Clever English naval officers brought in a little steam launch, and with the wives and others young men and maidens of the vicinage, we start across the Bosphbrus, a gleeful party. Prof. Grosvenor is along to give us the classic associations. On arriving upon the other side we perceive our conveyance. It is drawn by white oxen. It is called an araby. It is a springless, heavy, lazy con- 37 3 g FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. cern, whose wheels are at every angle to the axle, and whose parts are tied together by ropes and wires. It will hold ten, but has no seats. We im- provise cushions for the ladies out of shawls and coats, and the Turkish driver starts the team with his goad. It is an antique, and fills us full of effu- sive fun. The araby has once been gilded and carved. I apostrophize it : "I know not, I care not, if gilt's on that wagon, I'll follow its fortunes if it leads to the Dragon. It was a hot afternoon ; and with only one equi- page it looked as if many of us would have to walk the four miles to the summit. However, we found another rickety conveyance, and a horse with a yoke, with some red cushions inhabited by fleas. These insects kept us lively, and enabled us to enjoy the ruts of the mountain road. The road was over a plain where old plane-trees, some of them thirty feet round, and hollow, kept guard, with soldiers and junketers around them. This plain is a favorite resort for Turkish families. Here, near one of the palaces, is the spot where the Sultan received the Empress Eugenie, and had the grand review of soldiers in her honor. Through an avenue of trees we slowly wended our way, following the brisk walk of the oxen. We met another araby of very regal style. It was "Araby the blest," compared with ours. It had an Effendi, with three Turkish beau- ties done up in white muslin. It was a bridal party on a wedding tour for the third wife. One woman looked like a mother-in-law, so cross she seemed when we gazed at her behind her fleecy yashmak. There were three wives, so the question of mother- THE UPPER BOSPHORUS CLASSIC SCENES. 39 in-law became complicated. However, it was a pretty sight, and one peculiarly Asiatic. At length we are at the top of the Giant's Mountain. We find his grave and a cemetery under the shadow of trees, and a mosque and minaret. Some dervishes are there. They per- mit us entrance within the holy places in our stocking feet, and for a consideration. It seems that this is the burial-place of many soldiers who fell here in defense of Islam. It is also ,the spot where a holy pilgrim or priest is buried. His tomb is covered with small pieces of rags, signs of a good future and good health to those who leave them. We ascend the narrow, dark stairway, up the stony steps of the minaret. Every object in view from this point is of interest. Under our eye, to the west and across the blue water, the Latin crusaders under Count Raoul encamped, until they crossed into Asia. There, too, Godfrey de Bouillon had his ten thousand cavalry and sixty thousand infantry, ranging along the environs of the Propontis, from the bridge of Cosmedion, the point of the triangle of Constantinople which meets the Golden Horn, to this upper point of the Bosphorus. Here are old earthworks, made by the French en- gineers for the Turks against the Russians in the last century; and there are the pharos (lighthouse) and the promontories on the sea. Turning our back on the Bosphorus and looking to the east, or south of east, far off over the Sea of Marmora, to the cerulean mountain curves, we may see, without fancy or glass, the veiled beauty of the ragged defiles which streams and torrents have made. Through these passed Xerxes and his host. Through them also came Alexander. Out of them came 40 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. Orchan, the son of that Othman who founded the dynasty of the Turk, laying siege to Nicomedia, now Ismid, to which English enterprise and capital have made a railroad. Here began the march cf that army whose janizaries were invincible. They rested not, until the beginning of the fourteenth century found them crossing into Europe, under the Thunderbolt Bajazit, scattering the combined armies of Hun, Goth, and Frank. Here was nursed that prowess in arms which cemented the founda- tion of those civil and bloody codes of the Moslem empire, whose crescent flag was seen by trembling Austria, not two centuries ago, at the gates of its capital, and to celebrate whose repulse in 1863 Austria is now raising monuments. Hence came the Othmans, Amuraths, Mohammeds, Suleimans, and Selims, who startled nations and made his- tory from Venice to Vienna, and from Bagdad to Granada. There is no standpoint more interesting than this for a review of the great struggles between the eastern and western civilizations. Yet now, as we gaze, how peacefully reposes the scene, where so many embattled millions marched. One can imagine the struggle of standards, the rush of jave- lins, the crash of charges, the iron tread of the mailed horse and rider, the dash of chariots and the neighing of steeds, the notes of bugle, the shouts of the knights leading their squadrons, the flash of lances, the waving of pennants, the elan of victory and the devastation of defeat ! But there are classic scenes beneath our eye from this minaret, as well as verities of history. Do you see those white, low houses beyond that village ? There is the authentic spot where the THE UPPER BOSPHORUS CLASSIC SCENES. 4I harpies tortured Phineus. But above all in eleva- tion and interest is the hill on which we stand, where the Argonautic heroes brought each their handful of soil, until the heap arose as a mon- ument in honor of the expedition which makes the name of Jason immortal. The authenticity of these places, made familiar in the muse and tradition of Hellas, is vouched for by no less a scholar than our Prof. Grosvenor, who has made them seem at least absolute verities by confir- mations. " Do you not know," said Gen. Wallace, warm- ing with these associations, " that there is a sensible view of Jason and his search after the golden fleece ? There were golden sands in the mountain streams of that El Dorado. Not being adept in gathering the golden dust, like our New Mexican miners, these Argonauts soaked their fleeces in the water, which was stirred into auriferousness, and when the fleeces dried they flailed out the precious particles." From this minaret can be seen the point of Heraclea, which was sighted by Peter the Great 182 years ago, day before yesterday, as he sailed down the Black Sea, under much Turkish distrust and against much opposition, to visit the city of Constantinople, which his descendants have not failed to covet ever since. Upon this visit, and the longing of Russian am- bition, have hung many great wars, only exceeded by those symbolized in the Turkish or Christian legend whose " four angels were loosed from the great river Euphrates." This has been inter- preted to mean the rush of the Turkish hordes upon Europe. It was made out in some of the 42 FKOM POLE TO PYRAMID. wise solutions of the " Revelation " of John the Divine, that the description of the cavalry, col- ors, and the "power of their tails," applied to the Mohammedan army ; and that the text in Revela- tion ix. 15, they "were prepared for an hour, and a day, and a month, and a year," was assumed, in some cabalistic way to mean a period of 391 years and two weeks. This was supposed to concur with the prediction of Constantine. As the Turks took Constantinople on the 2gth of May, 1453, you must add to this the 391 years and t\vo weeks, and you will have 1844 of our era, which is the year 1260 of the Turks, and 1260 is the number of years fixed for the duration of the Turkish rule in Europe. So that in 1844 the power of the Sultans should have ceased, but it did not. It will be many years yet before these splen- did views, now made interesting by mosque and minaret, shall glow with the gilded cathedrals of the Graeco-Russian Church, as Peter the Great fondly wished and untruly foretold. When the colossus of the north becomes a little more assured of his personal health and life at St. Petersburg and Moscow, he may possibly help to cipher out the " revelations " which his ministers thus far have failed to make prophetic. We take care before descending to note the haven which has been one of safety to navigators from the wintry and tempestuous Euxine. There, across the way, are the Cyanian isles, about which Greek narratives are horrific and garrulous. Upon one of them, which you may reach in calm weather on foot, is a white marble column. Its carving is not a little marred by time and flood. It was once an altar. What it may mean, the poets have sung THE UPPER BOSPHOR 'USCLASSIC SCENES. 43 who have located Jason, his myths, and company of fifty Argonauts along these points. Here, too, geology once agreed with tradition that the press- ure of the waters of the Euxine broke a passage through to the Dardanelles ; but science has proved that the fissure was made by fire, which created a passage that the waters followed. This passage has changed the political and social destinies of mankind. Upon one of these isles are still seen emblematic altars to agriculture and fertility. These are doubtless Roman, for they are dedicated to Caesar Augustus. Look down upon the promontory at the mouth of the sea on the Asiatic side ! The tower of Medea shines in white, as a lighthouse, while the ruins of the temples to the gods and goddesses, protectors of the sailors, are everywhere to be seen. Our double summit of a mountain some- times called Mount Joshua, and sometimes the Back of Hercules has its present name from a giant's tomb, which we visit. The tomb is forty feet in length. It is said to contain only the foot (ex pcde Herculem) or toe of the giant, who was accustomed to sit on the top of this mountain while he bathed his feet in the Bosphorus. The tomb is covered with square blocks ol stone, and is much reverenced. It has various legendary his- tories. From the minaret our military Minister discovers a neat fort and battery at our feet, near the shore. Its guns are covered with white canvas, and all its appointments are in nice order. At every angle of the horizon, far and near, historic, classic, and mythic memories start into view, and make our afternoon quite a religio-classico-Anglo- American festivity. 44 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. We are called to the lunch. It is nicely spread on the grass, near an old well some three hundred feet deep, which has a marvelous echo. The lunch is prepared by our hostess and her graceful daugh- ter. Twenty of us quaff the wine of Ismid, and drink to the health of our departed friends, Jason, Hercules, and the rest, not forgetting the sover- eigns of our respective countries. Tearing off some fragments from our handkerchiefs, we place them, as the customary votive offerings, upon the tombs of the saints. Then mounting our araby and moving at dusk down the mountain, through the shadows of the trees of the Turkish camp, where many dusky figures are seen praying toward Mecca, and after some gentle and profane dalliance as to backsheesh with the natives who surround our boat, we rejoin the launch, and end our pleas- ure at the wharf, where our flag is supposed to fly for our protection. Yesterday we were summoned by our friends for a last enjoyment of the hospitalities of the Lega- tion. To these were added something unusual in this locality. It was a serenade by moonlight on the waters. It was a success as a scene, for there were no harsh Greek or Turkish voices in the serenade. The Austrian Minister, Baron Hirsch- feld, was the projector of this Venetian entertain- ment, this carnival of the Bosphorus. The quay was lined with spectators by nine o'clock, and the stream and bay with caiques and illuminated barges. n. e i t Ine names ot the musicians sound so that one can- not mistake them for other than Italian, German, and Polish. The rockets and colored lights, and the thousand boats full of the beauty and chivalry of the upper Bosphorus, followed the steam tugs THE UPPER BOSPHORUS CLASSIC SCENES. 45 and larger caTques as they moved about from Buyukdereh to Therapia, giving to the waves the melodies the waves returned. Instrumental music thrilled on the clear air and moonlit stream, and aided the effect. Altogether it was unique. Was not this indulgence of occidental and Orphic lux- ury under oriental skies a fit ending of our rugged 1 journey from the boreal North ? These gay songs of the elegant embassies and their retainers how much they contrast with the rough days of cru- sader and paynim, of sword and scimitar, of cross and crescent. How they contrast with the elder days of sea-fights of Genoese, Venetian, and Turk in these bays, now illuminated by American petro- leum, and choral with soft voices on the stilly air. CHAPTER V. EXCURSION TO THE ANCIENT OTTOMAN CAPITAL BROUSSA AND ITS ATTRACTIONS. As the thought of man Flies rapidly, when, having traveled far, He thinks, " Here would foe, I would be there" And flits from place to place, so swiftly flew Imperial Juno to the Olympian mount, And there she found the ever-living gods Assembled in the halls of Jupiter. BRYANT'S ILIAD, Book XV. OUR excursion to the Giant's Mountain stimu- lated to another. We resolved upon a visit to the ancient Ottoman capital Broussa. It is south of Constantinople, and across the Sea of Marmora. Our experience" there, with its silks and caravans, its fruits and fountains, its baths for health, and its sepulchres of the founders of the Ottoman empire, form a chapter of romance. This trip inducted us into the mysteries of Asian land- travel. In Constantinople we had met many pecu- liar types of men and many muffled forms of women. They are hard to understand. In vexation we ex- claim : " These are spirits, clad in veils, Woman by man is never seen! All our deep conniving fails To remove this shadowy screen." But when we conquered the reserve of the inte- 4 6 BROUSSA A AW ITS ATTRACTIONS. 47 rior, and its mixed travel, by steamer on the way, the yashmak fell and the muffler dropped. In this trip we were associated with an Irish solicitor and his amiable daughter. You may well believe that in such society there was a richer indigo to the azure of the sea, a new sparkle to the lively waters of Broussa, and fresh glories to Mount Olympus, at morning and evening, as we talked and smoked beneath its roseate hues and cool shadows ; rare fun when we stopped in our druidical groves of oak, half way, amidst camels and donkeys, turkeys and chickens ; other wonders in the capacities and oddity of the animals which carried the cocoons and other burdens to the city from the sea ; more at- traction in the strange brown faces of the turbaned beggars, and more alluring beauties in the broad vales made fruitful by streams from Olympus which spread beneath us from our hotel balcony like the vega of Granada, as seen from the walls of the Alhambra. This is our first really hot day. Its discomforts need the mitigation of society. Another addition to our hotel group were some Germans and French, including two young Austrian princes, "just as nice as two young girls," as the Celtic daughter re- marked. Loving brothers indeed they were. We met them at every place of interest in our excursion. They left us at Broussa, having concluded to ride over Olympus and its lonely range to Ismid on the sea, where they take the boat. As it is a risk, I remonstrate. The brigand would like such a prize, for the elder of the young men is very rich, and there are always in these hostelries some con- federate rogues to give notice. However, they send for their Austrian consul, and engage the po- 4 g FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. lice two stalwarts with rifles ; and after examining their revolvers, set off. " Brave boys ! and polite as brave ; good luck to ye!" the Irish solicitor exclaims, as they bid us adieu. They were the Prince and Count Deidrich- stein. There was along our Greek guide, Dionysius. He was our companion to the rocky castle on the mountain, and to the tombs of Othman and his con- quering son, Orchan the earliest heroes of the race. From the I4th century these Mussulmans Sultans and soldiers have lain, in honored retiracy, under their cashmere shawls which cover the motlier-of- pearl tombs of the oriental marabouts hers, undis- turbed even by the earthquakes which have waked up many dead cities, and which stirred Broussa in a lively way in 1801-2. The jewels, stars, and crescents remain guarded by careful keepers, and in honor of the precious bones of the leaders of a race not yet extinct in European diplomacy and fighting. Minarets and mosques, neat buildings and active industries, give to this old capital a fresh, cheerful look. It is no idle or dirty city. Its streets are clean, and in this it is unlike other Turkish cities. From early morning till late at night the men are moving on their beasts of burden or work- o ing in their factories. The women seem to be the only folks of leisure. Morning and evening we see them pass our hotel, along the mountain side. Most of them ride astride on donkeys. Their children are in the creels, and peep out funnily. It takes two to balance the pannier. You want twins or quartettes, triplets are unhandy. Whether these women are happy or not, we could not always BROUSSA AND ITS ATTRACTIONS. 49 see, as their veils were down ; but they had the right of locomotion, and used it. They go a mile or more to the hot baths. These are ancient and celebrated. They gush from the mountain side in the south of the city. There is no newspaper in Broussa, though it has 80,000 population. Are they happy ? There is no sewing society though much embroidery ; so that if there be any news stirring, it is to be got as of old in Rome when the gossips met at the baths of Caracalla and " swapped " their information. Dionysius jokes the dragomans of the prices. Dionysius is a tender-hearted Greek, and amenable to fun. When the other dragoman was looking at a fountain in the great mosque he espied a cup, and tried in vain to reach the fountain for a drink. " Aha ! " says Dionysius, " your heart is tainted ! Only those who are pure, according to the old cus- tom, can drink of these waters," and he makes a successful leap for it himself, quite perilous to his person. His amour propre is satisfied. " The donkeys of Broussa," says our Sancho Panza, " are its clocks. They tell the hours. One of them got wrong and brayed out twelve yester- day when it was only one. He needs correc- tion ! " We visit the most sacred mosques and kiosks, where the bones of the many-wived Sultans repose. We found ourselves surrounded by little Abdal- lahs and Mohammeds. They ask for alms. These mosques have outbuildings and grounds. The trees and their shades attract many women and children, as if it were a health resort. About are old tombs. Fig-trees and fountains abound, and 5 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. red pomegranates peep over the walls. There are no Roman ruins in Broussa. It is more French than Arab. It is also Turkish and Greek. Old Greek churches are here, as usual, turned into elegant mosques. In the best mosque, Donad Monaster, on the west side of the town, lies the tomb of the Sultan Orchan. It had once a dome of silver. An earthquake or something changed the silver into marble. There is a green mosque here. It is the sacred color of Mohammed. En- amels and carvings of most delicate beauty by native art, vie with the many-colored marbles, to make this a peculiar temple of this religion. In some of the mosques are stained glass. Diamonds and other precious stones decorate the tombs. However dirty and dusty the Moslem appears upon his travels or in his home, he has the virtue of cleanliness in his worship. This city of mosques and fountains is adapted to this devotion. The Moslems about us are indulging in ablutions and prayers. They wash the arms to the elbows, and feet to the knees before they pray. Their prayers are chiefly recitations of the attributes of God ; when they speak of his power they kneel and touch the forehead twice to the ground. They seem they are devout. Better have this faith than none. When they can repeat the Koran by heart, they are considered perfect. After my wife had made her promenade of the silk bazaars, with much cost and instruction, we called on a merchant, at his house, to see some "portieres." He, with his wife and mother, re- ceived us. The latter sat at her embroidery frame ; and when my wife expressed a desire to see how the work was accomplished, she smilinelv BROUSSA AND ITS ATTRACTIONS. $ t resumed her labor. A fine steel crochet needle is held in the right hand, close to the face of the velvet, while the bobbin of silk or gold thread is held in the left hand under the frame on which the velvet is stretched. The needle is pushed through the material and catches up the thread underneath with great regularity and rapidity. This is the way the rare Damascus fabrics are adorned. She laughed heartily to see our look of pleasure and wonder ; and tapping madam heartily on the shoulder, said, "You see it is easy." Before we left, refreshing syrups were served us. Half the population are engaged either in rais- ing mulberries or weaving silk. They&?r are not regarded by such patriots as our Dionysius as of the blue blood. They are called rayahs, and speak Turkish. They have their own laws within the Turkish empire, and the patriarch here and his bishops are ex-oiricio magistrates. They also have a part in local civil affairs ; so that when our guide threatened, he meant what might be done. Within this Greek church of the Sacred Waters is represented "the cosmogony." It is a series of pictures, beginning with Adam and Eve and the serpent, and running through Biblical lore to the three wise men, on white camels, who, star-led, 72 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. came to worship the Babe of Bethlehem. It in- cluded the altar of sacrifice, with Abraham and Isaac. St. George and the Dragon, as in Russia, so here, is a favorite saint, and is susceptible of graphic representation. He is here in gilded breast- plate and red plume, and upon his steed of white, charging upon the hideous dragon. The altar is very expressive in its simplicity. Generally these Greek churches have not regarded the precept of the poet, but have had " Too much of ornament ; in outward show Elaborate ; of inward less exact." At least this was our impression of them in Russia, and this church is hardly exceptional in some re- spects. One of its simplest features is the picture before the altar of the One All-Seeing Eye ! It illustrates the intense love of symbolism, peculiarly Oriental. It is found even in the whirling of the dervishes, who, in closing their eyes, see the Invisi- ble, and in whirling see him at every quarter to which they turn. There is a tinseled appearance in and around some of the shrines, which reminds us of Moscow, and the pictures seem of the middle ages. There is a picture of "Abraam " entertaining the angels, with a Greek inscription, Philoxenia, which Dionysius interprets, " Friendly travelers ; " and a shrine from the isle of Tenos, to which, in- stead of going home, the natives of that isle resort for worship. I am thus particular in these points, because there are seventy millions of people who worship after these methods, and I am not of the little handful of Samaritans, who, looking down from Mount Gerizim, insist that where they are, is IN AND AROUND CONSTANTINOPLE. 7? * *J the only place where God is to be worshiped, and the rest of the v/orld is in delusion. Outside of this interesting church, and covered with Greek inscriptions and crosses, are the marble tombs of the patriarchs. We visit them as a fare- well to this peculiar church, and take to the road again, along the historic walls. We pass many people cf all nationalities ; some on their horses and donkeys between big panniers ; others, includ- ing the hooded Turkish females, walking toward their cemeteries in their best clothes and with their families, and all having a gravity and decency, in their Bairam feast, quite in contrast with the drunken jollity we saw in Russia on saints' days. We pass a Turkish cemetery, and gaze within. The grave- stones are so thick that they have become common. They are used for fences, for we see the names and inscriptions of the dead, with scraps of the Koran upon them, in the walls along the road. A well had two turbaned headstones as uprights to sup- port its wheel. Upon the great city walls we per- ceive hundreds of trees, mostly fig-trees. They are as large as our apple-trees. They grow on and out of the top of the wall, their roots wrapping around the huge stones with a vigorous vitality. Even from the gaps made by the earthquake the vegetation springs, repairing the catastrophes of nature with gentlest garniture. After a rest at a cafe, outside the Greek ceme- tery, and a cup of coffee and some rehatilicum (or fig-paste), we go within. Some of the tombs show the old love of the Greek for the beautiful. Upon them are cut emblems to represent the avoca- tions of the deceased a compass and axe for a carpenter, scissors and an embroidery frame for a 74 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. seamstress, and so on. These grounds of refresh- ment outside have old plane-trees, and crowds of i'ien, women, and children are sitting under them. They have been within the church to partake of and bear away the sacred waters. Men are playing checkers, as they sip from neat little Viennese cups the black, milkless, and highly-sugared coffee ; and all about is a gravity which knows no laughter, and indulges in no frivolity. We take up our march for the Armenian burying-grounds, near by. There are two Armenian sects. One is Catholic, but it is not theirs we visit. No crowd seems to be within their inclosure, nor any ostentation, like that of the others. The head of the Catholic Armenians is one of the ripest scholars in the world. As religion seems to be the salient object in the Orient ; as its ceremonies are everywhere presented to the attention ; as the Orient is the select home of de- votion to the Great Unseen and Supreme Being, from whence all forms and faiths have had their source, it would be impossible to give a sketch of the outdoor life of these mixed peoples here without some distinctions as to their creed. Mount Ararat stands nearly 1 8, ceo feet above the sea. It stands on an elevated plateau. We know its history and tradition. This plateau is Armenia, and from it came a remarkable race, a race which has had more periods of vassalage and freedom, of war and peace, under Assyrian, Persian, and Roman empires, and under Latin, Turkish, Mogul, and Russian rule, than any other race. They have been scattered abroad, like the children of Israel. They are now surely advancing ; for they trade and study, as well as travel and wor- IN AND AROUND CONSTANTINOPLE. 75 ship. They have a rich literature. Their church is not unlike the Greek Church. The costume of their priests is a black robe and a high black hat. It is said that they are less superstitious and bigoted than the Greeks. They, too, like the Greeks, have a chief patriarch here, and civil rela- tions similar to those of the Greek hierarchy. They constitute a sort of nation inside of this Government; having a limited self-rule. One branch, I have said, is Catholic. We recognize their priests by the long black veil flowing from their black hats. They are men of singularly handsome and benign faces. They have had the protection of Western Catholic nations, and have schools in Europe. The members of this com- munion are superior scholars. There is also a small " nation " of Protestant Armenians, mostly the result of American missionary labors. They number about 25,000, and form an important colony in the Orient. But it is curious that the only proselytes worth mentioning as Protestant, have been among the Armenians. This is ascribed to their zeal for education and their serious character. CHAPTER VIII. AROUND CONSTANTINOPLE AMONG THE DEAD FOR- TUNE-TELLING SACRED WATERS. The spider has woven its web in the palace of the C&sars, The owl shrieks its nightly song on the towers of Aphresiab. FROM THE PERSIAN. WHAT troubles the mere superficial observer here is, to determine who is who, among these various races. The Greek is very like the Armenian, and both not unlike the Hebrew and Turk. Hence Government used to order the different races to wear different costumes, and separate " quarters " were assigned to them to live in. With large, dark, expressive, oriental eyes and black hair, it is impossible, when dressed alike, for a stranger to discriminate between these oriental classes of the Semitic family. The fez cap does not indicate the Turk always, but only a Turkish subject, for the Armenians and others sometimes wear it. The Armenian women wear the Turkish yashmak, to conceal all but their lustrous eyes ; but even their gauze veils are becoming more trans- parent with the advancing time. Our American College here has many Armenian students. They are said to be exceedingly gifted and eloquent. When we ventured within the Armenian ceme- tery, and found it was a fete day, and the grounds full of people, we carried our memories back to 76 LIFE IN CONSTANTINOPLE. 77 Mount Ararat, and spread them over quite a large area, so as to enjoy the new relations between the dead and living the ancient and modern epochs. A curious gathering is that which we find in the Armenian inclosure. The stones are lying flat, and in as much disorder as in the Turkish grounds. There are trees, but no grass ; dirt, but no decora- 4 tion. All sorts of people are here, among them many priests in their long black robes and high black hats with a rim at the top. The priests are chanting prayers over the graves, in the presence of the bereaved, while dozens of men and boys, bearing jars from a well in the cemetery, pour water upon the grave. A few coins to the water- carriers, a few piastres to the priest, and kiss upon his hand, and the bereaved goes his or her way. We perceive a crowd about a singularly-dressed man who flies two white pigeons from a stand, as a sign of his employment. He is a literary sooth- sayer. The pigeons are mere couriers, to an- nounce, as they flutter about his box, his presence and business. We join the group. He has a box with several compartments. Within it is a reddish- golden bird resembling somewhat a canary. After paying your money, this ominous bird nips out a card, with your fortune on it ! It is written in modern Greek in prose or rhyme. It is not in- spired by any mystic moonstone, but drops from the bill of the little bird. Did we try our fortune ? Of course. In an Armenian cemetery, near the walls of Constantine, and in the face of several thousand years of human activity and divine demonstration as to these children from Mount Ararat, what more suitable or magical place for divination ! Here, if ever place was fit, is the oracle, truer far than oak 7 g FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. or tripod. My ticket was translated by Dionysius, thus : " The little bird says that you have plenty of friends, but some of them are betraying you. They will not succeed." " Good," I say ; " go on ! " " You are a man who has enjoyed many honors ; and more are in store for you. You have not reached the top !" Considering that my ambition has been well satisfied, this was interesting. " Do not rely on ancestral help, but on yourself ! You have had much money, and have lost a good deal." This was true ; for was I not in politics, without " star " bids or " credit " of any kind, but such as came of honest service ? " But your luck will turn, and you will become rich again, and live till ninety-two ! " " Good ! " exclaims my guardian angel near, re- membering that our salary and income are going in travel, and that the winning of the $20,000 at the Grand Prix in Paris, which was reported in the pa- pers, was by another Mr. C. Then came my wife's future. It said : " Never fail to recall the beautiful teachings of your beloved parents. Your fortune is being envied by your female friends. They cannot harm you ; and you will survive all jealousies, and be buried at the age of eighty-four, rich, honored, and respected ! " These were as satisfactory as foolish ; only we did not like the idea of surviving each other ! The patriarch Constantine, whose volume I had studied for to-day's excursion, gives twenty-two pages to the Sacred Springs around this city. There is a gush and rush of sacred waters from LIFE IN CONSTANTINOPLE. 79 every hill and beneath every church and mosque, and even under the Bosphorus ! These waters have had the reputation and the virtue of protecting the city, amidst plague and war, decadence and diabolism ! The Bosphorus itself is most sacred in the eyes of this enthusiastic Greek writer, who ex- claims : " In this corner of the earth, unique in its kind, in which all the charms of earth combine to astonish the human mind, soft and gentle breezes blow, and one may often hearken to the sweet songs of the nightingale and other melodious birds." What would the eloquent Father have said had he seen the springs of Colorado and Cali- fornia in our mountains, or the Yellow-stone, with its laboratory of wonders ! Nevertheless, under his inspiration we went to one more spring, the " Little Balourki." The church over it has long since been destroyed. We found its spring under ground forty feet, and in a cemetery ! We descended the arched way, and found it dry, but outside, beneath a spreading tree, sat a family of Turkish women. They did not conceal their faces as they made their meal. The leading lady reclined on a rich rug, and had a blue- and-gold-colored yashmak drawn but lightly around her shoulders. A slave near, wore, as is the cus- tom, colored gauze over eyes and all. The lady, when she saw me gazing at her, coyly drew over her pretty face the yashmak. She was eating grapes, which suggested our refreshment. In a twinkling we had ten cents' worth, or two and a half pounds, upon cool leaves freshly plucked. The little Turk- ish " Mary" of the family plays with a pet lamb, led by a ribbon, and wearing a bell and some beads. The lamb was sure to follow wherever she went 80 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. We leave reluctantly our shady place, but the late afternoon admonishes us ; and we resume our way along the triple walls, between piles on piles of tombs, until the very air seems freighted with the dead and their memorials. A splendid ruin appears, which draws our atten- tion. It is massive and interesting. It is the palace of Belisarius, so renowned in history. It shows signs of Byzantine arches and great skill. It is remarkable to us, because of its name. Singularly enough, there passed us, coming down the steep banks and led by a child, a blind old man ; whereupon Dionysius relates the story of the old " White ctzar," and the " old man " gave it prac- tical exemplification. It was to this palace, through one of these grand gates, that Mohammed II. resort- ed, amidst the hurrahs of his troops, after the tak- ing of the city. He then repeated the Persian verse at the head of this chapter. We heard no owl hoot here, though we did from the " towers of Europe," built by Mohammed him- self to assist in the taking of the city. We have seen no spider at its work, amidst the dusty ruins of the Belisarius Palace ; but we have seen the silk-weavers in the subterranean cisterns of the Greek Emperor Constantine, near the grounds of the Hippodrome. Persian poetry is pretty, but facts are stubborn prose. History tells us, that before Belisarius and his conquering army fell Hun, Persian, African, Vandal, and Goth. He was the glory of the Greeks. In the Hippodrome he received apotheosis for his exploits. Yet he was the same who, poor and blind, dragged himself along the highways asking alms at the base of the monuments his valor had preserved. It is a reproach to Jus- LIFE IN CONSTANTINOPLE. j tinian that such ignominy should have been allowed under his enlightened reign. Belisarius achieved a final victory over the Huns at these very gates, and for it was once more immortalized. It may not interest American readers to dwell upon these remnants of old empire ; but still, those who have read the history and romances of the elder day will take some interest in them. I met a young graduate of Yale traveling all alone here yesterday. He was from Pittsburg. I asked him the object of his coming away off here, amidst the dusty spoils of Time, leaving Paris and London, in their living luxuries, to study the decay and fall of empire. He said : " I read Gibbon, and I could not rest till I looked upon this capital of the East- ern Empire." I admired his perseverance, and saw through his eyes my own enthusiasm of thirty years ago, when I came here under similar im- pulses. One more mosque, and we will move toward the Golden Horn. It is called Ghora. It is a wonder, not merely because it is older by one hundred and fifty years than Sophia, but because the Moslem priests, who control it, have allowed the " infidel " pictures of the early Greek Church to drop their smear of paint and whitewash and come to the light. The mosaics of a thousand years ago, with the Greek crosses, are here in resplendent gold and hues, as plainly as they were when Comenus ruled, and his daughter directed their execution. It is not a large church, but it is interesting. A few Koran passages are inscribed in gold on green ground. I ask the priest to interpret them. He said : "All who follow where I go reach Paradise ! " A few sacred pigeons fly about the dome ; while 3 2 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. all about was written, as if because the air was shining with Christian illustrations, the word : "Al- lah! Allah!" A singular picture of Noah's ark hangs upon the walls ; the meaning of which, just there, I could not decipher. My wife found, in an old bronze door, the " key pattern " a labyrinthine institution with which she seemed familiar, and which has come down with the Greek civilization to make embroidery beautiful. This church, like those of the middle ages, had separate latticed apartments up-stairs, like those in the House of Commons, for the gentle sex. From its windows we look upon the Golden Horn and the tower of Galata in Pera, and toward the hill of Scutari be- yond. Coming from this singularly mixed church- mosque, and following the walls, we are still pursued by the turbaned gravestones. Upon an eminence overlooking the Golden Horn, and to the end of it, where are green islands and the " sweet waters of Europe," we perceive rural kiosks and palaces, while around us we find ourselves again surrounded by the tombs of dead Ottomans ! They are of a higher grade, however. This one is that of a Sul- tan's officer of rank, for there is a crown over it ; another, with a large turban of peculiar size, is one of the Sultan's guard ; two daughters of a rich man are without turban, and have gilt letters ; a green and red turban indicates one of the large family of Mohammed ; another, with bunches of grapes, shows the number of children the dead mother bore ; and so on, in every variety. Just as we are pondering over the infinity of tombs, a shrill, ringing voice comes forth from the minaret below, echoed by some one from a neigh- boring minaret. It is the cry to prayers. A stoVk, LIFE IN CONSTANTINOPLE. 8 3 frightened by the cry, starts out of the cypress grove below. Proceeding down hill to the walls, we are still amidst the tombs, but they are of better quality. They are now shut in with sacred care. One is that of a hermit in a vault, into which we look. The coffin is of green, for he is of Mohammed's family. A tin cup hangs out, and a fountain near, so that the devotee may throw the water in upon his grave. Still going down the hill, we pass the temples for the tombs of the Sultans, into which we do not enter. We gaze in upon them. They seem arrayed in mother-of-pearl and Cashmere shawls. An extinguisher is over each of the large candles which stand around, an emblem of the light having gone out. Our last adventure is to the patriarchal home and conclave of the Greek Church. To this we are ad- mitted. We approach it, not without due respect ; for in the convents of these religionists were pre- served not merely the truths of our gospel, but the classics of the great Greeks ! A whole chapter might be written about the libraries of these schol- ars, which time, ignorance, bigotry, and war have destroyed. It was with a pain at the heart that I read this translation of the words of the Greek pa- triarch, whose book has been my Mentor in this day's tour. How curiously it treats of the inductive and other philosophers : " With the precipitate fall of the empire the lights of Greek instruction were also extinguished. Some remains only (thanks to the clergy) found an asylum in the Patriarchal School of Constantinople, and were preserved down to our time. But in this school the works of Plato were committed to the flames by the Scholarius Gennodius, who became patriarch after the con- 3 4 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. quest of Constantinople. Then the works of Aris- totle were destroyed by these eclectics, who would not tolerate the liberty of thought. Descartes was the first to show that one must judge freely philo- sophical systems, without regard to the authors, be they whom they may. The immortal Newton intro- duced in society the right to examine and freely to treat upon different subjects a right abolished now some two thousand years ! " We look upon the portraits in this seat of power and scholarship ; we see about, their emblems of authority. Their power over their church is as- sured by their loyalty to " the powers that be," which was tested in the troubles between Greece and the Porte. The portrait of the new patriarch was there. We saw him the other day, in a ca'ique, on his way to his summer home, above Therapia, and his clear, high forehead shone with the mental power he is said to possess. To be the head of any of these eastern churches, in a locality like this, where the literature is in many tongues, and where the ordinary trader must be master of several languages, requires that scholarship should go hand-in-hand with high qualities and lineage, and suavity and firmness be ever alert to assist and defend the ecclesiastical polity which has come down through the ages. CHAPTER IX. THE OLD SERAGLIO ST. SOPHIA THE OLD GREEK HIPPO- DROME THE MUSEUM OF ANCIENT COSTUMES AMONG THE HOWLING DERVISHES. Be ye certain all seems love, Viewed from Allah's throne above j Be ye stout of heart, and come Bravely onward to your home. La Allah ilia Allah ! Yea, Thou love divine. Thou love alway. FROM THE PERSIAN, BY EDWIN ARNOLD. WE desired to see the old Seraglio Point within itself. It juts into the stream and forms the entrance of the Bosphorus, dividing the Sea of Marmora from the Golden Horn. When we were here before, the harem was there. We visited it then, went inside the palace where the Sultanas lived, and rambled in the luxuriant grounds which yet rise about it. The interior was then disappointing. The divan and drapery of the gor- geous East were not there. Tables, chairs, and poor French prints were the only decorations ; but the baths and fountains we remember well. They were characteristic and Eastern. The marble halls were bright, and the honeycomb fountains within murmured a lullaby to the Sea of Marmora with- out. But the place then had the odor of blood, even upon its white pavements. There were more sighs lingering about the mysterious opening upon the Bosphorus than the sweet air could hold. The 85 86 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. Adrianople railroad now runs through the old palace ground, round the point, to the depot on the Golden Horn. The abode of the Sultan, which was regarded as a sacred spot in 1851, and into which we passed unsandaled, has given place to the goblin of steam, whose shrieks are more mellif- luous to the ear than those of the wives who were sacked into the stream at this once convenient point of perpetual divorcement. The day of our visit happened to be the anni- versary of the Sultan's coronation ; and we were allowed, without hindrance from the chief of the public grounds on the point, to go about without the customary firman. A fairy kiosk stands high on the point. There the Sultan sometimes stops, and, from the further side, reviews the troops, when war begins, and drops upon them his blessing ! This kiosk rises above the gardens of the Theodo- sian column. It is shut in by a whitewashed wall. This beautiful antique column has been almost in- closed since we were here by trees. Thirty years in the life of a tree or a man makes much change. The beauty of the column is hardly seen for the foliage. On its iron fence, the dirty linen of offi- cials hangs out to dry. This column is sometimes conjectured to be the column of Simeon the Stylite, but it is only conjecture. It is Corinthian and beautiful. It held the statue of Theodosius once, and was built in his honor, because the Goths came here then to offer submission to the Roman power. These Northmen asked to be permitted to colonize Thrace and Asia Minor. If they had been accepted as the colonists in these now barren lands, what would have been the state of mankind ! Where, if their genius had been given to Asia, and not to ANCIENT CHURCHES AND COSTUMES. 87 Europe, would have been the great Teutonic nation and the relation of the races ? From this point across to Scutari you perceive a yellow building. It is the Nightingale Hospital, of gentlest renown. It is now used in part for a barracks. Beyond it is the British cemetery, full of Crimean heroes, and with a fitting column. All this, out of the Crimean war, since we were last here. Those very rocks in the mist, which are near the Prince's Isles little rocky isles have them- selves changed hands. They belong to Sir Henry Bulwer's heir ; and he keeps them anchored safely, rocks as they are, by a Turkish guard. From this point you may see the windings of the Bosphorus. These turns which make its bays and currents are so awry that navigation is not always happy or safe. Let us go up into the open court above the old Seraglio. It is most interesting ground, and has not been so much changed even by fifteen centuries of royal residence. It used to be three miles around, and had a wall on all sides. The most of the old palace was destroyed by fire, a dozen years after we went through it. The harem portion was rifled at the fire ; but the old ceremonial inclosure, called the Seraglio, with its public buildings remains. To that we venture, not without trepidation. Our first look is at the enormous sycamore tree, which would make a fit counterpart in size, if not in height, to any tall sycamore of the Wabash ; but, unlike it, alas ! it is hollow. If it were solid as our Mari- posa trees are not it would give them quite a race for size and celebrity. It is at least forty feet in girth. It used to be occupied by the chief janizary I In this court is the Sublime Porte, the old one, for gg FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. there is now a new one, not so redolent of ancient associations. It is a grand arch, with Arabic texts over it, and towers about it. This old Porte, by which the Turkish government is known, does not look like a palatial entrance. It has rather a police look, and there are soldiers about it. It used to be kept by fifty porters, hence it was Sublime ! As we could not go into the Mint, where the jewels are ; as we had a clear recollection of our former visit to the armory, where the keys of loyal cities, flags, and arms are kept ; as the kitchens were of no moment now, since the Sultan does not dine at this place, nor visit much at the new kiosk above, we gave our mind to the recital of the horrors of the place which Dionysius did not exaggerate, but illustrated with faithful detail and gesture. Point- ing through the Porte to a window within, he said : "That is the throne of the Sultan. He sat there. He could see, but none outside see him. Here ambassadors were presented, who could only feel the presence. Here, too, he sat to observe the beheading of his unfaithful subjects. Here, on this path, and right on this stone, was placed the plat- ter with the bloody head ! " Sweet thought ! reminding one of a Herodian picture which, I think, we have seen somewhere in some of the galleries of Europe. Then, as Diony- sius saw our open-mouthed wonder, ready to take in whole hecatombs of slaughter, he dilated on san- guinary Sultans till the air grew red hot. "Here where you sit"- how I leaped to my feet! "on that very stone, the heads, when chopped off, were mashed into atoms, after being dried three days upon yonder crosses above the gate!" ANCIENT CHURCHES AND COSTUMES. 89 Just then a eunuch (for they still hover about, though the dear ladies are gone up the river on o < * * the hill opposite) comes along, swinging his beads, and looking as black as ten devils, and as ugly as sin. We get out of his way. "Who is he?" I ask. " He is the head jailer of the female prison that we saw yonder outside the gate." Although the sack may not be used now, the prison is handy and useful. I lean against a fount- ain to rest. I am satiated with headless cadavers. I try to read an inscription over the fountain, when I am startled to hear Dionysius exclaim in hoarse whispering to my wife : " Lady, you are sitting on the very stone on which were these bloody executions ! " She turned her head calmly, though I saw she was pale. It was a stone nicely arranged for a seat. "That fountain," he says, " used to run with " "Blood?" say I. " No water ! There the executioner washed his gory hands after he used the axe." I ' turned pale also. I shall never forget these three sanguinary stones and that polluted fountain, not as long as a deadhead haunts a theatre or rides upon a railroad. Going out of this court we pass the porphyry tombs of the old church of St. Erin, where, in Greek and with Greek crosses, the early Greek rulers were celebrated. Some pumpkin vines inno- cently run about these tombs now. They bloom and bear, unconscious of the terrible scenes which this locality once witnessed. Now to St. Sophia, Church of Divine Wisdom ! Illustrious monument to Constantine ! Built, re- ~ FROM POLE TO PYRAMID* built, rebuilt again by the great Emperors, begin- ning in the fourth and completed in the sixth cen- tury ! Marbles, granite, porphyry of every color and from every quarry and temple from Ephesus to Athens, from Baalbec to Egypt ! Fire and earthquake, and last, Moslem conquerors, have not destroyed but only added to its wondrous name. The story of its building, the number of its arch- itects and workmen, the Emperor or angel who conceived it, the immense cost, the traditions of the seraphs who around it kept ward, the opulent altar, the immense cupola and dome, the doors of ivory, amber, and cedar, the veneered planks from Noah's ark, its courts, passages, vestibules, belfries, and galleries, its minarets outside and altars within ; above all, its pillars above pillars, its majesty of artistic proportion, boldness of design, and splendor of execution, not to speak of the imperial seats and grand offices and dignities to which it was dedicated, make it the most wonderful edifice in the world, St. Peter's only excepted. The spirit of the temple ah ! what is that ? Seven different orders of priesthood, from the Imam to the Kasim, represent its genii now, whete priests and deacons by the hundred served at its altar through the early centuries. Here once the most eloquent of divines, St. John Chrysostom, ministered and preached, and with silver tongue and golden lip made the Saviour and his Beat- itudes most beautiful to the entranced Greek and enraptured Oriental ; and here now minister muftis by the hundred, whose services we have seen on three occasions, and commentators interpret the Koranic law with a strictness worthy of a demo- cratic canon applied to our constitutional charter. 9 1 The other night at ten, my wife and myself started for this temple of fame. She had not seen it upon our former visit, though we made a des- perate effort. Our firman from the government of 1851 was complete. A Turkish soldier then accompanied us with a dragoman. There were four in our own party a cousin of my wife, then a golden-haired Ohio girl, now a Chicago matron, and my wife's brother, of genial memory, now no more. We were fortified by two British officers, then stationed at Corfu, which was ruled by an English Lord High Commissioner. Well do I recall them. One, as I have read, was killed in the Crimean war, Colonel Fordyce ; and the other, Captain O'Reilly, an Irishman, who made the life of our voyage most merry back to the isles where the Hesperides were fabled to be situated, and who furnished us golden fruit from its gardens. What has become of him? Has he given his life as well as sword to England in her wars in India and Af- rica ? Quantiim miitatus ! all how changed ; and we here ! I shall never forget the solid and glee- ful company, made up of German and French, as well as Irish, English, and American visitors, as we marched and exulted that bright morning in July at the prospect of seeing this cathedral of the Divine Wisdom, so hallowed by time, history, and vicissitudes ! It was also, as now, in the Ramazan season. We stood at the door, presented our passes, and each nationality had its cavass and dragoman. Word came out for us to leave. Our guides persisted. We held our places. A second word came, " We must go off ! " It was accom- panied by a remark that we were condemned infi- del giaours, dogs of Christians, and some other 92 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. tender epithets. Our guides persisted. Had they not the Turkish as well as other governments be- hind them ? They counted foolishly. They should not have urged. We were not then fully advised of the power of the mosque above all other powers. Still we held our ground until some four or five hundred Moslems collected about us. With angry threats and suspicious movements, much like a mob, they rushed about the door, at which ap- peared hideous object ! a black slave, a Nubian of most unpleasant aspect and grating voice. He held a rattan, and laid it cleverly over the shoulders of our dragoman. The soldier retreated. Our English officers, including the German and French, worked out of the crowd. My wife, brother, and cousin receded. I hardly knew how, but I was left solitary and alone, and covered my retreat with a Vesuvius stick which I had used on the volcano against insurgent lazzaroni, and still carried for protection against the dogs of this city, then more numerous than now. The meaning of the performance, as we learned, was our ill-starred attempt, in Ramazan time, when the Turks were fasting and ill-disposed, and while prayers were going on, to enter this sanctuary of Islam. However, next morning at daybreak, while the devout Turks were asleep after the excesses of the nocturnal feasting, some of us ascended to the gal- lery by a back door and through a long, dark pas- sage, with the aid of a paid Moslem servitor, and there looked down and around upon the splendid temple. But it was a surreptitious and anxious gaze or peep from behind the porphyry and granite columns. How we sped in those few minutes from ANCIENT CHURCHES AND COSTUMES. 93 post to pillar, looking at the big letters of gold upon green canvas, twenty feet long to the letter, announcing that " God is the light of the heavens and the earth ! " How we wondered at the nonde- script six-winged seraphims Gabriel, Michael, Ra- phael, and Israfael companions of Mohammed, once orthodox angels of the Greek Church, whose 1 faces are now purposely obscured ! How quickly flew through our vision the 107 columns, each one a grand larceny from other temples, with the fancy capitals, and how swam in the mystical light the great void below the dome, which was lifted on four grand arches ! Such were the hasty, but en- trancing glances, or our recollection of them now, as the scene recurs to our memory. In this my wife did not partake, so that when, the other night, we approached the dark rear gate to the same gallery we had not a little apprehension. It was soon relieved by a slippered and slippery Moslem, bearing a lighted taper, and under Dio- nysian guidance we reached the upper gallery, where the old time came back with its rush of associations. It is Ramazan again, and on the 24th day. It is the night of Predestination, the night for special illumination by 6,000 lamps. Oh, for Edison, Brush, and Jablochkoff with their electric glories! But the Moslem lamps did very well without their aid. Perhaps the semi-gloom added to the weird scene. When we entered, the service from the upper and nether platforms, where the priests sit or kneel, was going on. The responses were made by the im- mense congregation, formed in lines upon the mat- ting, all shoeless, or rather with shoes upon troughs of wood in front of the lines. These lines front toward the holy house of the Kaaba at Mecca, and 94 FROM POLE TO P YRAMID. therefore the faces of the faithful are not turned toward the old Greek altar, but to the south-east. This looks odd and breaks the harmony, but it does not change the lyrical cadences of the service, as with one accord, at a given signal, these devout people, in various costumes and of various tribes, but in unison, bow with foreheads to the floor thrice, and to Mecca always. Then a Quaker quiet comes the hush as if for the Great Day. Then again, resting a minute thus, another chant or wail ascends from the priestly seats, and the crowd arises and stands in silence till a further chant rin^s o through the vast arches and dome. It was the very quintescence of awfulness, and could not fail to impress the oriental soul. It was not for us to make light of this ceremony, though we saw some English visitors laughing at it as if it were a farce. A second visit, along with the families of our Minister and Consul, whom we felt qualified to in- duct into this gallery and ceremony, did not weaken this impression. Nor was it strengthened on our visit yesterday to the floor and body of the temple. Without aid of firman or soldier, and without fear, we found ourselves within the gates. We put on slippers, according to the custom, and glided awk- wardly over the matting, to see the altar, the lace- like carved marble capitals, the many-colored marble columns, and the gilded dome. We desired a nearer view. Whether because my slippers were modeled for Cinderella and would not stay on my tiny feet, or whether because my sense of noting was not keen, I have turned to my wife's journal. Here is her description : As we enter the vestibule the guide calls attention to a side column with a hole in it, shaped much like an eye. Here those diseased in ANCIENT CHURCHES AND COSTUMES. 95 that organ dip their fingers, and, rubbing their eyes, with a murmured prayer, are supposed to find a cure. Our two visits have been made at night. Now, by day the mosque looks quite differently. Neat matting covers the floor, and we were given the usual slippers for en- trance. We found them rather large and difficult to use, but by dint of slipping along, without lifting the foot from the floor, we managed it. S. S. happened to sneeze, and, as one does often by habit, expec- torated after it, and immediately our Turk was enraged. He sharp- ly reproved "the infidel," and, taking his handkerchief, commenced vigorously wiping out the supposed stain. We looked at our guide, but he only smiled disdainfully and sadly. It was a Greek smile which a Spartan might have envied. The matting was not laid straight across, but on the slant, that the devout might, in kneeling, turn toward Mecca. It was arranged in rows, and low wooden troughs were placed between each to hold the shoes, I suppose possibly outer garments thus preserving intact the neatness of the floor. After all, were it not for this sacred reverence in taking off shoes and using slippers, I do not see how these mosques would be fit for en- trance, much less worship and prayer, for as these Turks bring in on their persons such a filthy lot of rags it would be unendurable. Then, as there are no chairs or benches, the floors are used for sitting, kneeling, and bowing, and to them many touch their foreheads. The mosque is vast and airy ; the marble columns of Ephesus are seen to better advantage, and those of porphyry are immense in diameter and height. At one-fourth the height of one of the columns is a break, like the cut of a sabre, were it of a material that a sword could cleave. " This is its history," says our guide : " Mohammed II., the con- queror, rode into this church on horseback over the dead bodies of the slain Greeks, packed like sardines in this their last refuge from the victorious Turk, and it was he who struck this column with his scimiter, and afterward reaching across to the wall, he left the im- press of his blood-stained hands." This huge and bloody hand, with fingers wide spread, is there in outline; but it looks more like the thoughtless impress of the bar- barous Turkish artist, on his undried paint, when, in his unartistic vengeance, he tried to obliterate all signs of the former possessors, the Greeks, by painting out every Greek cross and defacing every fig- ure of the Greek archangels ! But the mosaic outlines and forms of cross and angel remain beneath the Moslem's superficial paint ; and these were pointed out with zealous pride by our Greek guide ! " Do you see those cannon over the door entry ? " the guide asks. " Yes ; but they are stone, are they not ? " " There is a story about them, quite childish, but like others of this strange people. It is this : That there was a saying among the Greeks that this church and city would never be conquered by the Turks till these cannon of brass turned to stone ; and see, stone they are ! " The faithful are assembling for prayers. It is a fete day, the fifth anniversary of the present Sultan's accession. A burly Turk asks : g6 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. " Why do you linger ? We are going to prayers." Our guide answers : " We have paid for the entrance, and do not intend to be hurried." Three seven-year-old children, having long skirts on we know not if they are hoys or girls are playing horse in a lively manner, and in imitation of Mohammed II., the Conqueror, who rode into this church. They ran at large over the mosque, to our astonish- ment; but they are soon called to order, and fall upon their knees and begin their devotions a la Turk. Last week we observed the same performance of five small children playing " ring-around," but be- tween times keeping up a faint semblance of prayer by tumbling over each other, helter-skelter, upon their knees in proper though temporary devotional attitude. It would seem that chiHren are a law unto themselves in a Mohanimedan mosque ! At times, with the recitative of the priest and the responses, the service was very im- pressive ; and by night, in the dim light, it is a weird and striking scene. Thus endeth the journal and our united impres- sions of this wonderful building and the spirit which it enshrines. It is an immense minster and mosque, for it is both, even yet. We leave it and go into the warmer air, haunted, as we were years ago, by those six-winged monsters, who seem like Sphinxes in the desert of human doubt and experience, and horrified at the stories of carnage forever connected with this temple of peace, into which the proud Moslem rode to defy and degrade its old Christian masters. Dionysius, who is not very gossipy, makes a curious comment on this double relation and qual- ity, by a story of some Russian ladies whom he gallanted a few weeks before the late Russian war. One of the ladies caught sight of her own cross half hidden by the Moslem gilding. Her eye pierced beneath the lacquer to find the forms of angel, saint, and Saviour, familiar to the church of her childhood. Bursting into tears, she was about to drop upon her knees and pray to the God not of Mohammed, but of Jesus when arrested by a ANCIENT CHURCHES AND COSTUMES. 97 gesture from the frightened guide, who turned pale at the consequences, in the then state of the Turkish mind. "Is this not," she cried, "our church, ours? Oh ! my God, ours ? " In a frenzy she was led from the church of the fathers of her religion. Do you wonder that the Czars, who are the head of her religion, have yearned to take this city, where the traditions, history, and glories of their faith still repose, though suppressed by force and veiled by another faith ? Another mosque, that of Sulieman the Magnifi- cent, which we visited, had no Greek glamour or tradition. It was built by the Turks. It has a beauty, cleanliness, and freshness that reminds us of St. Isaac's in St. Petersburg. But having seen one mosque, you have an idea of all. In this mosque are carpets and flags, representing Mecca and Medina. There is a third mosque, called that of the Pig- eons, into whose court we went. A few piastres for a handful of millet, and the pigeons fly down into the court in rustling multitudes from minaret and dome and every nook in the vast place. These birds are sacred to Mohammed, and receive hospi- tality, as do the dogs, according to some divine lesson in the Koran. On our way to the Hippodrome we pass another large plane or sycamore tree, hollow and tenanted. A hermit, with sore eyes, lives in it, but he is not very astute. I asked him to write me his name on a card. He put his head out of his hole, and, to my discomfort, bawled for one of the cross-legged scribes, who, as in old Jerusalem, sit at the corners 98 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. of the streets, and act as notary publics or scrive- ners for the people. We are upon classic ground again at the famous Hippodrome. It was an old Greek circus, with seats and ring. It is .now a square, filled with objects of ancient renown, which could not well be ruined by janizary and war, or eaten by fire and time. Here the actors, riders, and charioteers of the imperial days assembled. The gates are gone, the porticoes demolished, the columns dust. The Veneti, who were Greek praetorians, like the janiza- ries of the Turkish empire, here met and menaced the existence of society and order. From these factions and crimes came the final ruin of this Greek empire. Its obelisk remains, as fresh as when it came from Heliopolis. The machines by which it was reared are cut in stone upon its pedi- ment. Commander Gorringe has improved upon the plan, with which, doubtless, he became familiar. It was erected as the goal of the races of the Hip- podrome. The brass column of the three serpents, heads off, is greened by exposure. It has a mys- tical and sacred meaning and inscription, which Rawlinson in his Herodotus has explained. The burnt column is a singular wreck of upright mat- ter, and yet it stands one hundred feet high, surviv- ing fire and sword, priest and conqueror. The em- peror or god, whose effigy once adorned its top, is not known. Other columns are around, and marked by inscriptions in old Greek and Latin, which mar- velously survive much that had more seeming durability. One antiquity has been so buried that time could not touch it with a single tooth. It is the cistern of Constantine. It is under-ground. It had three under-ground compartments, held up ANCIENT CHURCHES AND COSTUMES. 99 "by 1,000 pillars. The upper story remains. Into it we went. It has been filled with the rubbish of ages. It is a gloomy place, dimly lighted, and used by artisans. We found their wheels whizzing in the damp and murky air, and boys running about the pillars as if at play, reeling up the silken and golden thread so much used in the fabrics of the Orient. "Why not," we asked of the foreman, "use machines ?" He caught at it at once. " Your English and American machines are too expensive. They get out of repair. We cannot make by them, as we cannot repair them. We prefer the old method. It costs little for our labor." It is the old story of labor-saving machines, which have changed the employment of four-fifths of the world, and always under protest. Then we visited a strange exhibition. It is the Museum of Ancient Costumes. As we went into the alley where it is, one thousand young Turks were rushing out of the Polytechnic School, where they are taught all the manual trades, such as car- penter, blacksmith, and others. Threading our way through their noisy unstinted glee for boys are boys, whether under fez or hat we enter a wax- work exhibition which Mme. Tussaud might envy. It represents the old Turks of different trades and professions, white and black eunuchs, as well as the other officers of the old regime, when the janizary was paramount, and the Sultan had his cook and dwarf, headsman and vizier, surgeon and eunuch, and each had a habit as well as habitude peculiarily his own. Such turbans and garments ; such an arsenal of yataghans and pistols, and such bundles 100 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. of sash and other tawdry toggery never was gotten together in a French opera bouffe to burlesque human power and weakness, or make extravagant its excesses and vanities. Near our hotel are the dancing dervishes. I sup- pose there are ample descriptions of these der- vishes and their mummeries, but I have not read them. I give what I saw. The dancing sect whirl around gently on their toes. Their arms are ex- tended and eyes sleepy or dreamy. They keep their places, like stars in their orbits, as they move around, while a solemn brother, with arms folded and in prayer, moves between the revolving orbs ! Their robes fly out as though they would make a cheese, as the children used to say. They have a sweet chant. Their closed eyes and whirl indi- cate that they see the invisible Allah wherever they turn ! These do not howl. For that we went to Scu- tari. There is a convent of them there. We passed behind the curtain and went up into the gallery, looking down into a court. There was an altar and a group of variously dressed der- vishes. Some were soldiers, some boys, some little girls in tinseled dresses. Some were black as ebony, some tall, some small, some thin, some handsome, some hideous, and all joined in the prayers and chants. A few kneeled on sheepskin, while others formed a hollow square and began swaying and singing, while the turn-turn of the tam- bourine and clash of cymbals gave out the pleasing concord of a threshing-machine. When the agony was sufficient, and the steam was on with a full head, the swaying and howling and barking and snapping and jerking of head and body, and the ANCIENT CHURCHES AND COSTUMES. 101 frothing- and hard breathing- and general diabolism o o B ^ <-> began. The song was repetitious, and not unmu- sical at intervals, where a flutelike melody, instru- mental, came in as a prelude to additional howling. We stood this for an hour. One man, of excellent appearance, with long, glossy auburn hair and a rich voice, as it sounded out "Allah ! " and " Mahmoud ! " seemed to be the chief, and ruled them with a look. He gave a glance, and off would go a coat, or a turban, or their high, white, sugar-loaf hat, and on would go a white nightcap. One African, of the worst aspect ever seen on a human face, if, indeed, it was not a visor hiding the human face, seemed to be as lithe and loathsome as a snake. He was six feet and more, and in his bare feet. His tongue would loll out, and his body would contort till you could hardly see what form it had. The negro minstrels, when they mimic the excesses of the negroes South at their revivals, are but faint copies of the wildness of this Nubian beast, as he twisted, snapped, clucked, barked, and howled. We went out for fresh air, to return to see this strangest of ceremonies. The chief and some of his subordinates were sitting cross-legged and making sacred knots in white napkins when we re- entered. Then prone on their faces were arranged a dozen of children, from two months old up to twelve ; and this dervish walked over and on their bodies. Yes, on them, each and all. I would not have believed it, had I not seen it. Not once, but four times, these prostrate lines of children were formed, and he trod on them each and all. Where- upon they arose sanctified and cleared of disease ; for that is the theory. In came a soldier and lay I02 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. flat. He had the rheumatism. Along with him a line was formed; some of the same little ones going flat again. Over the lot the chief traveled. The soldier got up and kissed the dervish's hand. The dervish placed his foot on the upper part of the thigh, behind. Any surgeon may tell you whether this is a vulnerable spot. Not a child whimpered, not a soul smiled. I could neither enjoy nor cease to wonder. What is the solution of this seeming physical paradox ? That question I asked of a gentleman learned in the customs here. He said : " Did you observe two priests in loose robes on each side of the line, holding the chief's arms ? " " Yes, but I did not see that they could have car- ried him safely over, allowing only a slight touch to the children with the priestly foot." " That," said he, " is my solution, and the only one I have. Two strong men might do it after much practice." From this puzzling and unique ceremony we rough it over some hard roads to the top of the cemetery in Scutari, saw the famed grave which the Sultan built over the horse which fell dead when the captain rode him to that spot with the news of the fall of Constantinople ; and then, turning down many lanes and streets over Asiatic ground, we entered the English cemetery. It is a beautiful spot, and well cared for. It is in great contrast with the Turkish and other graveyards hereabouts. A magnificent granite column, supported by colos- sal figures, rises here to the memory of the Crimean soldiers. It overlooks the city and the sea, the Bosphorus and the Seraglio Point. In vain my wife sought in this sacred spot for the grave of her ANCIENT CHURCHES AND COSTUMES. IC >3 old friend, Mrs. Edward Joy Morris, who died here while her accomplished husband was minister. We left with many sad memories, which were soon obliterated by the cheerful breeze upon the waters, and after a day of days found our rest at Pera. CHAPTER X. THE CHANGES IN THE TURKISH CAPITAL WITHIN THIRTY YEARS DYNASTY AND DYNAMITE THE TOMBS OF THE SULTANS. With my own power, my majesty they wound, Jn the Kings name, the King himself 's uncrowned, So doth the dust destroy the diamond. ' MAJESTY IN MISERY, CHARLES I. WE find but few changes here, such as we find in other cities of Europe. The Asiatic still encamps upon both sides of the Bosphorus. Even the tombs of the Sultans are, notwithstanding the Koran, which intimates that Europe is no last- ing home for the faithful, here upon this side of the river. Hotels, kiosks, terraces, palaces, villas, embassies, and conveyances have changed. Iron ferries fly the red flag with its crescent and star up and down the stream ; large ironclads anchor near the home of departed houris ; but the same gilded kiosk and gaudy ca'ique, the same veiled women, miserable cemeteries, and melancholy mosques ; the same fountains, bazaars, and barracks remain, with the same dirt, dogs, and dervishes. Photo- graphs appear in Pera at the shops, and French is more universally spoken. The ladies have more diaphanous veils, and the men less ostentatious turbans ; but the old element remains, notwith- standing the Crimean war. The slave behind her dark veil, hiding every feature, still trudges behind 104 CHANGES IN THE TURKISH CAPITAL. IO 5 her mistress. The mistress has exchanged her yellow, gawky slippers for high-heeled and gorgeous gaiters. The minaret tops all, and the mosques, with their mortgages upon property and soul, have not be encanceled. The age of archery and Greek fire, which foiled the Bulgarian, Goth, and Persian in their attempts upon the now dismantled walls, gave way to an age of personal chivalry in the crusaders' day and in the age of Mohammedan empire ; and that empire is giving way, inch by inch, it may be, to the spirit which commerce " calls from its vasty deep." What a wonderful city ! What changes in two thousand years, if not in a third of a century ! As I reckon them by history, and not by my own experiences, there have been six changes of masters, and twenty from unsuc- cessful sieges. Rome had the city. After cen- turies she made it the capital of the East. Then its emperors besieged it, and then the Persians and the Arabs again and again ; then the Russians four times ; then the Latin crusaders, who temporarily succeeded, and the Counts of Flanders furnished the emperors under Venetian patronage and enter- prise ; and finally, when the western nations were preparing for adventure in a new world, and the Moors were fighting to hold Spain, Mohammed II. swooped down upon the city, and by the aid of the towers of Asia and Europe gave to it a new faith. Since his day, from 1481 to 1882, twenty-eight Sul- tans have held their revels and their rule ; exactly four hundred years, at the rate of seven Sultans per century, or an average of a little over fourteen and two-sevenths of a year per Sultan. If the present Sultan, Abdul Hamid II., holds on a few years more, the average since the conquest will be made lo6 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. good since the accession of the Sultan of 1851, Abdul Mejid. Studying the mortality of these rulers, and in the light of recent dynastic dangers from dynamite and daggers on the Neva and Bosphorus, led me to think of the present Sultan and the situation. As I write, the guns of the forts are thundering out the fifth anniversary of his reign. It is well known how he obtained power. There is a party of pro- gressists who do not look kindly on him. He is supposed to belong to the party which disfavors advancement. My judgment is that he is more opposed to the aggressions upon his rights and dignities by western powers than to reform. He may yet lead a Jehad to save his empire. He lives in great seclusion in his yellow palace, somewhat aloof and apart, on the hills of the Eu- ropean side of the Bosphorus. He comes forth but rarely and cautiously, as Czars do nowadays. He is bound to go to certain mosques on certain days, and on Fridays always. We saw him the other day at the mosque below the palace ; but we waited for him in a miscella- neous and unenthusiastic crowd for two hours. The soldiery were there on guard. They sur- rounded the entrance and lined the streets between the high walls. The people were not near. Bands came and played music ; officers of state arrived and were ushered through the ranks. At length there was a blast of trumpets a good deal like a circus summons for the grand cavalcade. The gates of the palace opened ! We peeped into the secret and beauteous grounds. Lo ! led by serv- ants in gala attire, some riderless horses appeared. It is a custom which follows the Sultan. Then CHANGES IN THE TURKISH CAPITAL. 107 came a man in a plain fez and on a white horse. It was the Sultan ! He seemed sallow ; but he is not ill-looking. He is like all Turks, for they all look alike. The hush of expectancy was over. A rush and a crush was made after him as he dis- mounted and entered the mosque. A shrill cry went up from the priests, which reminded the Sul- tan that he also is mortal and God is great. The crowd dispersed, and the Sultan stayed and prayed. He is in perpetual prayer, or is expected to be, in these fasting days of Ramazan and festive days of Bairam. At the close of the former he was mar- riedagain. It was his annual marriage at a mosque. It was public in one sense, but " no cards " to us. Every year the Turkish empire is winnowed for the handsomest young lady to adorn the palace as a new wife. The mother of the Sultan selects from the bevy of beauties gathered from "silken Samarcand to cedared Lebanon." One of the singular laws of royal marriage here is, that the wife becomes the slave, when married, to his Majesty. Why ? Because the Crown Prince, or future Sultan, must be a born slave himself, and thus less in rank than the free people of the realm he governs ! This is odd, but it is oriental. Again, this week the Sultan appeared in Scutari, where he met all the military pashas, beys, and Ulemas, riding on white horses and wearing rib- boned turbans. The latter are the priestly inter- preters of the Law and the Prophet. They display great pomp in the procession when the Sultan en- ters the Church of the Six Minarets. The present Sultan is not a large man. He is regarded as able, and manages his own matters with adroitness. When Abdul Aziz was deposed I0 g FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. in 1876, Murad V. succeeded to the throne. He also was deposed after only two months' rule, because of an alleged weak intellect, thus making two weaklings who have given way under minis- terial or priestly dictation. There is much un- rest among the Turks because of these untoward and suspicious changes, which has been promoted by the recent extraordinary trial and exile of Midhat Pasha for the alleged assassination of Aziz. Therefore, we were not a little curious to see the present Sultan, who seems to master the situation, which is surrounded by so much doubt and danger. We had once seen the Sultan Abdul Mejid, amid 40,000 troops, on a grand day for the reception of the chief of the Mohammedan religion from Mecca. No special guard was needed then. But dynamite and assassination have made necessary these pre- cautions. When the anniversary of his coronation came the other day, it was said that the Sultan be- came nervous and uncertain. First, he was to give a grand dinner at his palatial seat, at which he him- self was to preside a rare concession and ceremony. He was to show himself very happy generally. The dinner was to be given to the ambassadors and chief men. It was discarded, however, on the plea of poverty. After spending several thousand pounds, it was ascertained that it would be in- delicate to have a roystering jamboree when the pay of all the soldiers and officers was so far in arrear a year or more. Making a virtue of this fact, the Sultan postponed his feast. A week or so ago, some Italian subjects of sinister motions and conduct were arrested for conspiracy to kill the Sultan. Their explanation was that their dynamite explosives were only intended for killing fish in the CHANGES IN THE TURKISH CAPITAL. 109 Sea of Marmora. But something still less serious made a greater outcry. The custom-house offi- cials stopped some balls having in them explosive materials. They consisted of four globes and three ivory pipes. The globes were sent to experts. The Master of Artillery, Ali Saib, was at the head of a commission to report. Chemists were called in. i Three little suspicious perforations in the upper hemisphere of the ball were found, and found cov- ered, but the cover was removed by a key ! Sodium was found in them. It burns vividly when thrown in water. The commission decided that the balls were pyrotechnics, and so they were, but useful ones. They were intended to be thrown into the water in case of a person overboard at night, when the illumination would help to save. An instru- ment for life-saving was thus the means of affright. The consignees are out in a card in French, which I have just seen, saying: " It is not our fault if the employes intelligents de la douane cannot distinguish between salvation and destruction ! " I am half inclined to wonder whether some ghost of the dead past has not reappeared upon or within these walls, with the ancient Greek fire, at which the timid besiegers of Constantinople were wont to be baffled and astounded. In an old record of one of the sieges of this city, which lasted seven years, it is said that the Engineer Cal- linicus of Baalbec, a city of Syria, discovered the famous Greek fire, which being composed of sev- eral combustible substances, such as naphtha, sul- phur, nitre, and turpentine, had the property of burning under water. Its flame, instead of ris- ing upward, presented the opposite phenomenon, and its heat was so intense as to destroy stones no FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. and iron. It could not be extinguished except with vinegar, sand, and urine. When they threw it on a vessel or a building, these were consumed with a terrifying noise. Some pretend that the secret of this fire was discovered in i 756, but that it was suppressed through the wisdom of a philan- thropic monarch ! Whatever the new discovery was, it doubtless led to the postponement of the Sultan's fes- tivity. Still, the Bosphorus shores burned with innocent lamps, lit in crescents and stars by loyal subjects, and the embassies and pashas had their palaces similarly beautified. The shop opposite our hotel was illuminated just as in London on the Queen's birthday the humble proteges of roy- alty make the largest displays. It was that of the Tailor to the Sultan. It is not for me, after slight observation here, to make prognostics as to this government. It has survived so many left-handed omens that prophecy ought to be dumb. There is, notwithstanding the bad feeling as to Midhat Pasha, a feeling also of insecurity. Since the exile of Midhat there is said to be much suppressed indignation ready to flame. However, so far as it seems to me, the old order of thirty years ago, such as then I saw it, remains. There is no great or open violence, and certainly no drunkenness, visible in the city. Outside there is not so much certainty of protection and life. One of our friends, a Swede Mr. Roos, a con- tractor whom we meet at the Legation, has, within a fortnight, been attacked with knives by robbers outside of Therapia, on the hills beyond the Bosphorus, and again shot at, the ball going through his hat. A man was killed night before CHANGES IN THE TURKISH CAPITAL. 1IX last, near our Legation, and there is not much or any sure punishment for the crime of murder. Considering the mixed quality of the population, these incidents are not more remarkable, perhaps, than similar ones in or near New York ; and when we think of the masses of contrary-minded men of different races and religions, and of the Ramazan, when every Turk is cross, because hungry, the wonder is that nothing worse has happened. The wonder is that strangers, like ourselves, could pass, as we did, at night with a carriage, through the narrow and packed streets without a murmur of hindrance or trouble. No soldiers or police were visible when we made two of these ventures through the motley groups in Stamboul, on our way from the Mosque of St. Sophia. In all these changes of city and dynasty, there is not, to our knowledge, one person whom we knew here thirty years ago now living here. This was my own private reflection, ft had one exception, as I soon learned, and the incident which led to the knowledge of it is interesting enough to relate. I know that it is of more general importance to re- count matters of public concern ; but, after all, there is much truth in what " Eothen " says in his book, as to the interest which makes egotism the nucleus of travel and observation. Observing this law of perspective, and recog- nizing myself as the centre of this interesting and restless capital, and reserving all statistics and his- tory as the mere circumstances about my own per- sonality, I will give my revisit to the tomb of Mahmoud II. He was the father of Mejid and Aziz, and is celebrated for his extermination of the janizaries. II2 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. These turbchs, as the imperial tombs are called, are generally in or around the mosques. Some of the Sultans have a mausoleum of their own, where the body is coffined in the ground ; and in the sacred kiosk of rarest architecture above, is the tomb. It is generally covered with inscribed mar- ble slabs, or invested with rich vestments. I believe that after thirty years I could have gone alone to the tomb of Mahmoud II. Fifteen years after our visit to it, I had occasion to recall this splendid architectural tribute to the dead Sultan. When Mount Vernon was rescued from decay in 1857, by the women of America, many of the Con- gressmen were invited to visit the sacred spot and celebrate the event. On our return, upon the Potomac, after night, a splendid moon, in cres- cent, came forth to gladden and gild our passage to Washington. The Hon. John Cochrane, my predecessor from New York City, improvised some speaking on the boat ; and out of my treasury of traveled experience came the memory of the cir- cular and domed splendor, by the side of the burnt column at old Stamboul ! Its white marble, its Corinthian pilasters, its gilded gratings, its mother-of-pearl biers laden with gold-embroidered velvet and cashmere shawls ; the massive silver candlesticks and the tall candles holding the em- blematic extinguishers of the light of life all came to me then and there, to furnish a little rhet- oric, and to point the moral as to our shameful neg- lect of the tombs of our great men ! The moral has not yet lost its point. When, therefore, we returned after thirty years to this tomb of the great Ottoman, not as a pilgrim gray like Honor in Collins' ode, nor as a weeping CHANGES IN THE TURKISH CAPITAL. n 3 hermit like another abstraction, but as a real en- tity, did we find that time had effaced its beauty or relaxed the vigilance of its keepers ? Had the velvets and shawls become the prey of the moth ? Had rapine seized the diamond aigrette and plume upon the sultanic fez at the head of the tomb ? Were the mother-of-pearl railings gone, the mass- ive silver stolen, or the manuscript Koran burned ? Let us take off our shoes, and with unsandaled feet enter. Ah ! here still remain all these suits and trappings of external reverence. To them is added the tomb of Abdul Aziz, the son, and with it the massive silver candlestick and box holding another Koran, the gift of the mother, who melted down her own plate for the offering. The same beautiful illuminated Arabic Koran on the same stand was there by the great Sultan's tomb ; and a boy is reading a Turkish edition near by, swaying as he reads, and smiling kindly on us as he sways. There seems to be no harsh or un- friendly feeling here. The warder of the tomb is a man whom I seem to have known. I ask him : " Will you read me a passage of the Koran ? Open it at a venture." He opens it. He says : " I can read, but do not know what it means. It is Arabic. The letters are familiar, but I cannot translate." " Well, then, I request you to read from the wall the motto in gold." He reads, and Dionysius, our guide, interprets : "Allah is the light of the world ! " I say to him : "This is not the thought of Mo- hammed alone. It is ours, as well as yours. In that all-seeing orb there gleams the light of the world for all His creatures. It shines on us, in a II4 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. distant land, a far-beaming blaze of majesty! It brings me here from a land where there is a setless sun ! Under that light men come and go, and come again ! I went from this mosque thirty years ago, and have come again ! Were you not here then?" " Yes," he responded, " I was here thirty-eight years ago, and have been here ever since, as custo- dian. It is strange, most strange ! " " Do you recall the American party who were driven from the Mosque of St. Sophia, and who came here soon after, four in number, one a golden- haired girl " He pondered awhile, and at length he seemed to remember, or to believe that he recalled, us. " Your name is ?" " Hafis Mehmet," said Dionysius. How good of him to remined us ! " The same," I said. " It is in my book and memory. It will be there again ! May I live thirty years more, to come to you again, and may you be here to welcome me ! " " Isallah ! If the Father God preserve us we will see each other again after thirty years." " Then farewell, Hafis, my old friend." " Adieu," he said in good French, as I proffered to him an unexpected hand, which he grasped. " You are the only human being of this city whom I met here then, and recall now ! Allah preserve and comfort you." " Allah ! razi olah ! Allah bereket versin / " " Praise to God ! May God receive you ! " I would not have disturbed that man's creed for all the largesses of oriental empire. He may be a devotee of a " creed outworn," but he was the CHANGES IN THE TURKISH CAPITAL. 115 honest keeper of dead regalities, and faithful to his trust. " They do not wisely that with hurried hand Would pluck these salutary fancies forth As worthless weeds. Oh ! little do we know When they have soothed when saved ! " And so, resuming my shoes and the heat and dust of the pilgrimage of life, I leave Hafts to the " sessions of sweet silent thought to summon up remembrance " of the past two generations, which we have survived ! As I pass out I see a chamber full of all sorts of tombs, big and little, very well accoutred and cared for, but not regally as those of Aziz and his father Mahmoud. "What and whose are they?" I asked of Dionysius. Our guide is dazed at my tenderness toward the Ottoman with whom I just parted, or else his English and French are confused. He endeavors to explain, in a patois made up of Greek, Turkish, Armenian, French, and English, the latter predom- inating and utterly unintelligible. " You know the Sultans have nusses Vet you call them," he said. "'Vet I call them? Why nurses, women with babies," I responded. " Oh ! yes, Vet nusses. These Vet nusses, vich give milk to the little Sultans, vich vill be big Sul- tans ; they have little babies also, vich ven they nuss little Sultans, have no life more, and so they are buried here with their mothers." This was not clear ; I asked him to try it again. "You understand," he resumed, "that when Vet nusses suckle little Sultans, and have husbands and jjg FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. make new babies, the little babies have life no more, but in seven years they get killed because their mother nussed little baby Sultan, and must not nuss no more baby." Ah, it dawns ! These are the tombs provided by the lords of the land out of reverence to them- selves, who alone should drink of the breasts of the nurse, to be followed by no vulgar little child at the saine maternal source ; for after seven years all such babies are killed, as there must not be two living offspring fed from the same lacteal fountain! I am to blame for not at once understanding better this now perspicuous statement ; but I had filled my fancy full of the fate of little dead Sultans and Sul- tanas, with tiny turbans and veils over their tombs, who, under certain policies of state, were strangled after birth in order to limit the line of succession to the throne. CHAPTER XI. THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE AS SEEN BENEATH THE SURFACE ITS DEGENERACY- ITS CORRUPTION AND VENALITY THE DEAD TURKISH PARLIAMENT THE UNITED STATES AND TURKEY. A feeble government, eluded laws, A factious populace, luxurious nobles, And all the maladies of sinking states When public villainy, too strong for justice. Shows his bold front, the harbinger of ruin. IRENE, Act i. ON the fifth anniversary of the present Sultan's reign, some of the journals here eulogized his rule for the progress made since his accession. The facts do not fully bear out the praise. What the external signs of Turkish wealth and progress are, I have shown in dealing only with historic events and social incidents, and as compared with my former visit here in 1851. It is of more moment to those who would study the empire for its lessons in economic and social science to know the real re- sults of this peculiar civilization, and the present condition of Turkish industries, trade, and finance. This study I found partly done to my hand in a re- port made last month by our able Consul-General, Mr. Heap, which I am kindly permitted to peruse in advance of its publication. I select from it not the details, but some of the leading facts, leaving deductions to be drawn by others of a philosoph- ical turn of mind. 7 , T 8 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. That Turkey has partaken a little of the general advancement of mankind since 1851 is easily ob- served. Three new Sultans and divers Ministers have come and gone since then, but that is of less moment than the coming and going of the steam- ships and rail trains, which make of this harbor and city a picture as unlike that of 1851, as that of the New York of 1850 is unlike that of to-day. We perceive in our hotel and from the papers that financial men are here holding seances with the financial minister, Said Pasha, as to the non- interest-paying bonds. We know, too, how strangely mixed are the revenues under the peculiar system of their farming and collection. All these are signs not unlike that of a coroner's presence, that a dead body is about or about to be about. But for the miraculous resurrection of Turkey so often, we might regard her as moribund, if not deceased. Add the distrust occasioned by the singular death of the late Sultan, and the banishment, under a form of trial, of one of the progressive statesmen of this country, Midhat Pasha, and you may under- stand why Turkey is not exempt from domestic apprehensions as well as from external troubles. These external troubles grow out of the unrest of the autonomous provinces of Europe, and the urgency of the treaty powers for promised re- forms, as well as of the incipient impatience of Greece and Albania, where the chronic foe of the Turk lurks and lives. It is impossible to make a proper photograph of these serious aspects of Turkey without some simple statements as to its polity. Turkey is a monarchy, with a Constitution, said to be limited. What the limits are, has been with TURKEY AS SEEN BENEATH THE SURFACE. 119 the Turks and others quite as grave a discussion as the limitations of our American Constitution. The Ulemas have a chief, who is, like our own Chief Justice, the head of the judicature ; but, unlike him, he is chief judge of spiritual matters. When he interprets the law, or the Koran, or the Constitution, he does it under the favor of the Sultan. If the Sultan be truly grand, like the second Mahmoud, who obtained a decision that enabled him legally to slaughter the janizaries, he will have his own interpretation of the organic stat- utes. Graciously permitting the chief and court of the Ulemas to interpret, he will pound them to death in a mortar if they do not interpret as he desires. This is no joke, and in the aforetime was a serious matter to the Ulemas. But when a Sultan like the present one is on the throne, there is no great fear that he will override the decision of the: Ulemas, even if it be outside the record or oppo site to his own view or will. The present chief off Islam and head of the Ulemas is, therefore, more potent than the Prime Minister of a Sultan. There is a responsible Ministry here, which has charge, as in other countries, of departments" but the Legislature is an absent body. Did this station ever have a Parliament or Congress ? Yes, ;: and have yet on paper. In their stress, during the Russian war, a Congress was called. Its members were selected by the Governors of the provinces, and in some form of election. Still, it began to crystallize and talk, and rriake rules and inquiries of the Ministers. Questions quite inconvenient were put as to taxes and trials, revenues and rogues, and some bold young men from the re- mote districts began to grow eloquent, and bard- I20 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. headed old sheiks began to show how sensible they were. All at once a proclamation dissolved, as a proclamation had made, them. A young and elo- quent member from Antioch, who was quite anxious about certain corruptions, was sent home under Government convoy, and the honorable gentleman from Jerusalem found his city of refuge in London. The city of Solomon was utterly inconsequential in the affairs of war, peace, and taxation. This Congress was interesting as an experiment. It showed how out of mere gaseous elements there were gathering stars for an oriental heaven of or- atory ; Websters, Clays, and Calhouns of solid logic and eloquence, and Damascus blades and jeweled yataghans of wit and rhetoric. Sultans, as Presidents sometimes, do not like Legislatures to be near them ; and the simplest souls of repub- lics are those who bemoan the sessions of Legisla- tures as if they were more harmful than unrestricted and corrupt power. Turkey has connected with her certain provinces in Europe which have some autonomy and some local legislative faculties. There is a pressure to increase this home rule. England has urged the Sultan to this end, and her urgency would have immense emphasis, if the Turk did not point to Ireland and smile ! Her provinces are ruled by Governors. They are divided into departments ; and these again, ci la mode Fran$aise, into arrondissements, with corre- sponding grades of officers. There are no titles of nobility, but there are affixes, like Pasha, Effendi, Bey, Aga, and others, which betoken official or fam- ily station. There is but one restraint upon these officials, that of the Sultan's will, if he chooses to TURKEY AS SEEN BENEATH THE SURFACE. I2 i use it, and that of the chief of Islam and his College of Ulemas. There is, therefore, not much respon- sibility among the officials. Like all satrapies, the provinces in Asia are governed by the will of one man, distant from the source of power. There is an affluence of wealth in this realm, if it could only have the magic wand to strike the rock and bid it flow. But there is a fear of Christian or western control that stops enterprise. The population is composite. Even at the start of the empire by Othman, a Greek woman became the wife of the founder, and the descendants of this woman still rule, to exemplify the mixed condition of affairs and people. There is no sentiment of nationality, such as Cicero describes, and as we and other nations have it. The Moslem aith is the common sentiment. Bagdad and Bosnia have a common Koran, and Broussa and Morocco a com- mon Mohammed. Morocco may have her own local government, and so may Roumelia, but the faith, which is one, makes a mutual citizenship in all this vast theocracy of Islam. The theory is that the Koran being dictated by the Angel Gabriel, Mo- hammed received it passively, and all his descend- ants, including the Sultan, are under the law, not above it. When, therefore, ,11 great thing like the killing off of the janizaries is to be done, the Ule- ma's decision is called for. One of the Sultans desires to drink champagne. The chief Ulema decides that it is not a drink to be prohibited, as it did not exist when Gabriel blew his horn and gave the law. In a word, citizenship is creed. Dar-ul-Islam, from Afghanistan to Bulgaria, is the world, and that is the country of Islam. All out- side goes for nothing in theory. When, therefore, T22 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. people speak of reforming Turkey they must reform Mohammedanism. This is no easy task, if we are to believe in the recent reports of its devotees. What a world it is Africans, Malays, Tartars, Arabs, Chinese, not to speak of the people of Turkey. It is not bounded by Turkey in Europe or Turkey in Asia. The Turk is a chief .sign and figure-head, but he does not rule the forty millions of Mussulman East Indians, or the thirty millions of Mussulman Malays, or the fifteen millions of Mussulman Chinese, or the ten millions of Mussul- man Africans, or the five millions of Egyptian Mus- sulmans, and the other Barbary eighteen millions, or the eleven and a half millions of Mohammedan Arabs, or the six millions of Circassian Tartars, and five million, others. A careful writer in the Fortnightly Review gives a tabular statement of Islamism and its national- ities. They are computed from the arrivals at Mecca, and are astonishing, if true. It is an odd way of census-taking ; but it is the best mode to be had, as no registrar or census bureau exists in Turkey or in the Mohammedan countries. He makes 175,000,000 as the total of Islam. There are among them many sects, but with these ideas as their bond, viz., one God, a future life of reward or punishment, and revelation to the forerun- ners of, as well as to Mohammed himself. There are some wine-drinking, polytheistic, and other het- erodox opinions and creeds ; but at least 175,000,- ooo are genuine orthodox Mohammedans, and the question often comes up when aggressions are made, as in India or Tunis : What if there were a Jehad, or religious war? There was a sect called Wahhabites, number- TURKEY AS SEEN BENEATH THE SURFACE. 123 ing 8,000,000. They did not accept the faith as finished, but believed that inquiry and revision might ever be made. They were guilty of excesses. They destroyed tombstones and minarets, and the sect fell. Then reform halted. Heresy failed, and the Moslem of Arabia, where the reform started, relapsed into acquiescence about the shrines of Medina and Mecca as holy alone holy ! It is, therefore, urged by some recent observers that reform in Turkey is impossible so long as it is impossible in the religion of the land, and that all attempts to make life and property safe, and the rights of conscience sacred, will be delayed, if not fail altogether. All analogies as to the refinement and progress made by this race, as in Spain by the Moors, is otherwise accounted for. All hopes growing out of the employment of skilled officers from other nations are disregarded, so long as the Koran is the fundamental law, the Ulemas its in- terpreters, and a compliant Sultan defers to these laggard hindrances. Hence it is prophesied that either these reforms must be made, even if gradu- ally, with time for political discipline, or, a catas- trophe will end all hopes, and a grand rush be made for the loot and spoils, where in some re- treat across the Bosphorus they may be enjoyed without the harassing intervention of European powers. When that catastrophe comes, and the Turk re- crosses into Asia, whose will Constantinople be ? Who will have the provinces in Europe ? Will it be Emperor, Kaiser, Czar, or Queen ? When you answer these questions you may see one of the difficulties of rescuing these ancient empires, where so many millions once lived in prosperity. Before J24 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. another year these questions will be answered by the strength and skill of armaments and armies. The area of Turkey is 339,21 1 square kilometres, or twenty-six people to the square kilometre. A kilometre is about three-fifths of a mile. The population is 9,897,400, of which half are in the immediate possessions in Asia, and the rest in Bulgaria, Austria- Hungary, Bosnia, Herzegovina, and Roumania. These figures seem to be well digested from some six authentic sources. The largest province is Constantinople. It has about 2,000,000 souls, including 121,267 Christians and 22,943 Israelites. This is not the city (which has but 600,000), but the vilayet or province. It extends from the head of the Bosphorus to the Dardanelles. When you add to the population of Turkey in Europe and Asia that of the protecto- rates of Tripoli, Egypt, and Tunis, there is said to be 45,578,000, averaging seven to the square kilo- metre. Jerusalem has but 30,000, but it is increas- ing. The foreign commerce from 1873 to 1877 shows a constant loss in exports and imports. In 1877 the exports are given as " ?," and imports as about $65,000,000. The exports of 1876 were about $50,000,000. The merchant marine is 34,500 tons, and steamers 3,350 tons. As to Bulgaria, we know how it is governed by the Prince Alexander. It has two millions of people, and is prosperous, though discontented. Samos, whose wine Byron sung, is a principality, and has a population of 37,701. It is decorated with a Greek Senate. Egypt, with its 18,000,000 people, is the most interesting of all the provinces of Turkey, if indeed it be one in any substantial sense. Complications are rack- TURKEY AS SEEN BENEATH THE SURFACE. 125 ing this land of renown. This cradle of civiliza- tion is being rocked by the military, who, copying the janizary tactics, are endeavoring to control the new Khedive. As other powers have interests there, commercial and financial, the Government has become more anomalous than that of Turkey itself. It has an army, navy, and a debt. Another 1 canal is projected, so well does Suez pay. In 1879 there passed through it 3,236,942 of tonnage. As to Tunis, the hold of Turkey has slipped com- pletely into the grasp of France. In time Tripoli may go to Italy, and perhaps Egypt to England who knows ? The finances of Turkey are given in piastres (5 cents), and in that currency make a grand show of totalities. In 1879 tne expenses are returned at 1,424,582,000, exceeding the revenues by 120,245,- 559. But there is such a confusion of the currency that I am not able to make out just what the de- ficit, debt, or anything else absolutely is, without risking some errors. The debt is 1,590,887,433 piastres. Of this sum the foreign portion is about one-half, and a little of this is guaranteed by Eng- land and France, and more by the Egyptian reve- nues. On the other portion of the foreign debt the interest is suspended, and on the railroad obli- gations and Ottoman Bank debts no interest is being paid. This is the case with the paper money, which is put down at 75,000,000. Make this budget as pretty on paper as you may, it is still an exhibit of bankruptcy, and the commission of foreign bondholders now here have treated it accordingly. The army consists of 75,200 men. It has been reorganized since the Russian war, when it fell to 12,000. It is not paid any more I2 6 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. than the debtholders. There is a small navy, but I am told that there are some first-class guns. The currency of this country is mixed, both in quality and quantity. Its values are first based on gold, then silver, like the piastres which are lo/K to the 100. Another kind, the " metallic," is mixed, alloyed. It is 205^ to the 100 ; then the veshlik, a kind of copper alloy, is worth 209^ I then a silver issue, altelik, is 127 to the 100 ; then a cop- per, adulterated, is 650 to the 100. It is taken in the interior; then caime paper (greenback), 1,450 to the 100. There are six kinds of currency. The greatest liberties have been taken in paying it out, such liberties as only such a government may take It has been impossible to obtain any trustworthy statistics of the trade of this empire. Where and when sought, the facts are given reluctantly, or not at all. I have given the latest which the Almanack Gotha gives. I now resort for more details to our consul. Very incomplete returns after the war with Russia show, that for two years 1878-9 the exports were $36,493,499.34, and the imports $86,- 996,629.82. This is not flattering to Turkey ; but it is to be remembered that prior to these years there was a great war, which absorbed the labor of agriculture, and that the laborers were in arms. England received the greatest amount of the ex- ports, and France next. Russia, Greece, and Egypt came next, and the United States about $400,600 worth. As to imports, England furnished half, France, Austria, Hungary, Russia, Italy, Per- sia, and Greece the most of the residue, while the United States imported here only $1,809,970. Before the Crimean and Russian wars Turkey furnished raw silk to France and Switzerland, and TURKEY AS SEEN BENEATH THE SURFACE. I2 7 rice, olive-oil, and cereals to Europe. In the absence of authentic returns our consul cannot give other than disjecta membra; but it is seen that in the European provinces, since the Russian war ended, over ten millions of dollars' worth of grains were sent to England, mostly via this port ; while Asia Minor gave maize and wheat amounting to two millions. Out of this abandoned land, how- ever, the " sesame" has a significance hardly up to the returns of Aladdin ; but a quarter of a million of this seed came to the world from the Asiatic provinces. Wool, when not used by Government, has had an export ; but the fine silky mohair has been taxed out of existence. I saw some few of these goats going out to the Cape of Good Hope ; for where they have not been sold and sent abroad, they have been killed by their owners for food. Such is the blind cupidity of this miserably man- aged Government. Carpets, rugs, sponges, rhubarb, dye-stuffs, oil of roses from the one hundred-leafed roses of Roumania, hemp, tobacco, opium, emery, copper, and chrome, as well as dry fruits like the fig, and fresh ones like the orange, might under a decent system here thrive, with a trade, more abundantly. Coal, too, has been found on the Black Sea shore, one hundred and fifty miles from the mouth of the Bosphorus ; but since the finding in 1854, and some practical mining during the Cri- mean war by the British, there has been no enter- prise. These four hundred and fifty square miles of coal, holding sixty millions of tons, may yet figure in some Turkish census, if ever the Govern- ment can get rid of its bribery, and give honest concessions to work the mines, and for railroad companies to transport the coal when mined. It I2 g FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. is so with iron, copper, and silver. No one can get a firman to work these mines of wealth without giving backsheesh to the lazy Turks who hold the interior power. True, Turkey has in Europe nine hundred and eighty-eight miles of railway running west to Adrianople, and from Adrianople south- ward to Makito, on the ^Egean ; but the shares which sold at one hundred and eighty francs are now quoted at fifty-nine. In Asia, there are eight hundred and fifty miles, running out from Smyrna, under English control and capital. There is also a road from Scutari to Ismid, following the north shore of Marmora. There are some street rail- roads here, one of five miles and another of eight and one half. These once trebled in value ; now they are trebly less. There is a little underground affair I have traveled on from the port to the top of the hill here in Pera five hundred and thirty- six yards in three minutes, drawn by a stationary engine, first-class ticket, a piastre or five cents. I should say it is doing well. It is in the European quarter. The ferry of the thirty-five steamers up and down the Bosphorus is hejd by Turks, and makes money. The great need here, however, is communication. In Asia Minor this is indispensable. It is moun- tainous. It has no river transportation except the Euphrates. The exactions upon that river and elsewhere by tribes and local sheiks require an armed escort. He who trades or travels risks goods and life. No one has any desire to produce more than enough for a bare living. In these lands, where millions once lived where cities of wonder- ful size and opulence on seashore and inland ex- isted where now the archaeologists are delving, TURKEY AS SEEN BENEATH THE SURFACE, 129 under safe conduct, for the relics of ancient power, glory, and prosperity there is nothing of transport to or from, except the enthusiasm of genius. The local wants and the taxes take all. If you should stay here for years, and pay out your fortune in bribing the underlings and eunuchs of these offices you would go away moneyless, and with no con- cession to employ either your capital, skill, or labor to develop these rich possibilities in these ancient empires. Therefore the best advice to be given to those whom I see here, adventuring into these ancient haunts of history, is from the Psalm of David : "Gather not thy soul with sinners, nor thy life with bloody men, in whose hands is mischief, and their right hand is full of bribes." Armenia is the worst sample of the condition of this country. There the Mohammedan raids the Christian Armenian, and adds to the destitution of absolute famine all that the locusts will leave in their march of destruction. An earthquake at Scio, a fire at Treboli, a pestilence on the Eu- phrates, added to agitation among the Syrian tribes and general imminency of war, are but feeble plagues compared with the affliction with which this Government is menaced. The body of this people are "wasting their strength in strenuous idleness." Agents are here from other Govern- ments, urging reform. They are asking for op- portunities to employ capital and skill. I have talked with some of these agents. They despond. They are not paid themselves. The revenues of two Asiatic provinces were promised to pay the Government employes engaged in bringing order out of chaos, and honesty out of corruption, when I3 o FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. it was found that these very revenues were already pledged. If frugality is ever practiced here, it is that thrift may feed success. Not long since, the Prime Minister, who spoke for the Sultan, de- plored this condition. In speaking to the bankers here, who were urging concessions for improve- ments, he said : " When ignorant eunuchs obtain a voice in the State councils, Ministers cannot govern. I find hindrances to every attempt at reform." Col. Baker (not the Pasha, but an officer here, and a thorough cosmopolitan, if not an American in heart) told me that he had just read Walter Scott's fiction, " Robert of Paris." It is descriptive of the old Greek policy. He says it is an exact picture of the present Turkish rule in its employ- ment of foreigners, its disingenuous expedients, its bad faith, its corruption of officials, and, I suppose, in its supple rascalities and pious frauds generally. He is supervising the constabulary force in process of organization for all Turkey. He lives in North- west Iowa, or his family does. He has his prop- erty there. He has fought Russians and has trophies of East Indian conflict. He is exceed- ingly American, and has a romantic experience. He gave me much insight into this Turkish lag- gardness, which arouses the spleen of all Europe, England not excepted. For eleven months he has not had his pay, and for thirty-one months no Turkish soldier or officer has had pay. All the exhortations of the European powers here fail. This Government is not tractable to their pecu- liar reason, or to anything but force. Day by day its resources fail and the exactions increase ; the pro- duction diminishes, and the mortgages are renewed FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. and redoubled. Yet with all this inefficiency, im- poverishment, and corruption, the Turkish soldiers continue their patriotic devotion without pay, hoping that the future may be better. Mr. Consul Heap gives the disease and the remedy in a few words. " Turkey," he says, " cannot remain stationary. Her entire policy must be changed. Her present danger is the entire want of confidence in her, which prevents the influx of capital. The bonds of society are loosened, and the laws are becoming powerless. Brigandage, anarchy, and poverty are spreading. The outlook is gloomy. Many believe that this is a season of trial and probation, and that if they are true to their creed and traditions, a sun of glory and power will arise and shed its beneficent rays over Islam. Others, and these the most numerous, look with utter despondency on the future, and bow submissively to that which is written in the book of fate." In one word, Kismet sentences Islam, and writes her doom in the book of time. All this I record. It has been recorded of other nations. But which is the nation to cast the first stone at the frailties of Turkey ? What will Utah say ? What the conqueror of India and Algiers ? The difficulties of resurrecting European Turkey are not altogether from the Moslem religion. In these provinces, where various religions are found, the Christians are now getting along very well. Greece has acquired territory and comparative quiet, and it is likely that there will be an exodus of European Mohammedans to Asia. I am pointed out beggars and pilgrims men, women, and chil- dren at the mosque doors, who are Mohammedan refugees from Europe. Eastward the star of Mo- hammed takes its way, never to go west again, ex- 132 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. cept through Africa, whose tribes are suited to that faith, and, as it is held, improved by it. Of course in all this the American nation has but a remote concern. The greatest interest we have here is in our missionary enterprises, our Bible . House, and Robert College. There may be in re- 1 serve for our petroleum and cotton fabrics a future market of some consequence. But as yet it is in embryo. Turkey knows that we are of little mo- ment to her, as she is to us. The United States Minister has been here, as his predecessor was, for forty days without reception or recognition. He has presented his credentials and had his speech examined, but Ramazan and Bairam fast and feast are the pretexts made to defer his reception. I am anxious to be here when the reception comes off. I am promised to be one of General Wallace's suite, and having a taste for the theatri- cal, I am practicing the proper salaams. I am told that it is quite a good school for histrionic essay. When General Longstreet was about to be received, he invited the officers of one of our vessels to be of his suite. A fat officer, who had been posted on the subject from the traditions and gossip, was drill- ing his brother officers. He was holding up his abdominal muscles with exemplary courtesy, his elbows akimbo, and his upper half at right angles to the other half, and was backing out of the pres- ence of a supposititious Sultan, to whom his bows were fancied to be as grateful myrrh and frankin- cense, when, alas ! he sat down on a brazier of red- hot coals ! He arose. The drill was quickly sus- pended with peals of laughter. I recalled a similar incident of my boyish days, when, in bowing out of my aunt's presence, I suddenly sat down in a tub TURKEY AS SEEN BENEATH THE SURFACE. I33 of melted tallow which was prepared for dipping candles ! It is needless to say that I also arose with alacrity. This incident has made me cautious all my life of overdoing politeness. Besides, I have heard of a large-footed Sultan who booted a Grand Vizier out of the audience chamber for being too obsequious. I believe that I can strike the golden mean. If the Sultan only knew that I was to be of the party he would hurry up the entertain- ment. General Wallace has suggested only one embarrassment to my presentation. It is that I am a Democrat, a leveler, a hater of royalty, and that the suspicion of dynamite may attach to me as a member of an explosive body. "What may you not carry into the august pres- ence ? Will you promise to empty your pockets and boots ? Is there anything dangerous about you ? " I replied that I had one thing which I had seen ruin many a man. I had used it with success. It was terrific. "What is it?" he exclaimed in agitated tones. "In the name of those amicable relations which bind together two nations with a twin relic in Turkey and Utah, I demand to know." " The previous question ! The cloture ! " , " Great Allah ! will you dare to " Here I am stopped by a perspiring courier from General Wallace, at Therapia, to inform me that Tuesday, at 3 P. M., Frank time, is fixed for our reception. I am requested to get up a crushed hat and a swallow-tail. I am all tremulous with excitement. I feel exalted in advance. The honors I have had in the past all fade. I grow visibly in altitude. I feel like the giant of the Scottish song : I 3 4 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. " He wad upon his taes upstand, And tak the stars down with his hand, And set them in a gold garland To deck his wifie's hair ! " My wife also shares this intense excitement. Our trunks are being eagerly ransacked for the palest of ties and the reddest of stockings. It is too much. CHAPTER XII. RECEPTION BY THE SULTAN. This hidden Paradise, this mine of fanes, Gardens, and palaces, where Pleasure reigns In a rich, sunless empire of her own, With all earths luxuries, lighting up her throne. TOM 'MOORE'S EPICUREAN. WHEN word came to be ready for presenta- tion to the Sultan, there was an unusual flutter around our trunks and in our wardrobe. It was no ordinary occasion. As one of the "best men," in the bridal of the Bosphorus and the Wabash, I determined to be en regie. I had heard of one of our Secretaries of Legation being received by Louis Napoleon with marked distinction be- cause he had donned his Odd-Fellow regalia. I knew, from reading Sartor Resartus, the value of toilet. I knew that the successor of Suleiman the Magnificent was a man of choice tastes, and I re- solved to adorn for the ceremony, so that Indiana might not blush for its suite. Nor did I fail to re- member that the Sublime Ruler who was about to open his Porte to us represented something more than the present Turkish power and Mohammedan Caliphate. Was he not the successor of leaders of armies against whom the hosts of Europe had strug- gled often and in vain ? Had not his predecessors lifted the crescent above the cross? Did not the 135 136 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. blood of the "Thunderbolt" run, though sluggishly, in his veins ? Was he not now the pacificator be- tween Christians contending for the holy places ? His fiat, once so potential, might it not again arouce a conflict a Jehad at which the world might trem- ble ? Was he not the titular, if not the actual, head of nearly 200,000,000 of one faith ? Having hastily written a wish that Prof. Gros- venor might be added to the party, so as to give the flavor of the ancient classics to the presentation in this old Greek imperial capital, I was proceeding to lay out the proper clothing, when it occurred to me that my shoes were disreputably immense, and that my Texas slouched hat was only fitted for the boreal North, and unfit for the precincts of princes. I needed a crushed hat and distingue pumps. The swallows had furnished me a dapper model for the cut of my coat, and the thrice bolted snows of Sweden could not vie in whiteness with my cravat. I knew that I could borrow diplomatic shoes at the Legation, but the lack of a crushed hat gave me trouble. Summoning the guide, Dionysius, I ap- pointed him ambassador to a shopman who sold and let out fashionable attire, as tailor to the Porte. He responded. After much negotiation, I hired a crusher for ten francs. It came. It was tried. It had a spring like a catamount, and a report like a Krupp gun. Its size was almost that of the Mos- cow bell, and it was fully as metallic. It would serve two purposes, for it could be both fashionable and salutatory. Thus prepared, we steamed up the Bosphorus, and arrived at the Legation a day in advance. The excitement there was enhanced by my crushed hat. General Wallace stood its fire, and RECEPTION BY THE SULTAN. 137 the consul was ecstatic over its magnitude. The ladies were at first timid when I fired it off, but they got used to it by the iteration. The waves of the Bosphorus seemed to be more agitated than usual that evening. We retired to rest in feverish anxiety. At six in the morning, when the golden light from the Orient flushed our win- dows, we heard loud talking outside on the quay. The voice of Mehmet, the cavass, was dominant. What was the matter ? Hastily leaping from my couch, I saw a ten-oared barge and its ten rowers, rising and pulling in their rhythmical movement and sweeping toward us under the gesture and command of our excited cavass. Mehmet was dressed in his gala costume, with a loose jacket* of blue, embroidered in black. He had on his fez cap, and wore an immense red sash. The sash was loaded with yataghans and pistols, and the corpu- lent official looked a very Falstaff in rotundity and bravery. Looking out toward the Euxine, the first object that caught my eye was a fleet of steamers and ships awaiting entrance at the mouth of the Eux- ine. I had forgotten the custom of the empire, which allows no entrance within the Bosphorus until after daylight and under pratique. Could ' they be waiting to convoy us ? Or was it only a calm which had collected them ? Was that calm the ominous prelude of a tempest ? The Giant Mountain opposite, which we had ascended .the other day, where Jason looked upon his promised voyage toward Colchis, seems covered not with clouds of golden fleece, but with lowering canopies, betokening flurry and storm. There is an insensi- bility to our situation at Buyukdereh unworthy the 138 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. " great powers " whose Ambassadors there repose for the villas and vessels of the embassies and the palaces of the Princes, Pashas, and Sultanas rest in soporific indifference to the forthcoming event. A heavy ironclad is moored at the base of the cliff on the opposite shore. Its stack has a dark pennon of smoke, but at the fore it flies the crescent, and we are reassured. Perhaps it will be our convoy. If ever there was a thing of beauty, it is that long, trim, golden pinnace coming to convey us to the enchanted chambers of oriental power. This barge is the more interesting, for it bears the flag of my country. My heart leaps up, as though it be- held a rainbow in the sky for is not our ensign born of the select and triple-hued splendor of the prism ? After breakfast a rehearsal was suggested. It was deemed impracticable, as my hat invaded its solemnity by going off at the wrong time. The shoes were obtained. They were too long at the toes, and left a great vacancy in the heels. I do not wish to depreciate the other personages, much less the Minister, but truth compels me to say that Mehmet looked the Turkish janizary of the most truculent kind, and was the most picturesque of the group. Besides, he shared my anxiety more than the others, for had he not been out upon the quay since daylight seven hours in advance of our time watching for this golden caique? The ten stalwart Turks in white dress, red jackets and caps, and bare breasts and legs, were his obsequious servitors. It was a long morning from breakfast to lunch. It was a sad lunch. There was too much anxiety at the board. It was increased by an explosion in the hall. RECEPTION BY THE SULTAN. ! 39 v " Allah il Allah ! " cried out our soldier Minister. "Your previous question has gone off sponta- neously. I forbid that hat. It is only next to dynamite ! " Having quieted the Minister with a glass of Medoc, and set my hat anew, the lunch proceeded. At one we are seated in the boat. We are a pic- ture for an il-lustrated magazine. The Minister is in a Major-General's uniform, with twin stars upon his shoulders. He holds a rich sword upon his knees. His lips are set, his will firm, his eye collected, his form erect, his spectacles trim, and his nerves pla- cid. He sits in the post of honor at the stern. Beneath him are crimson cushions and robes. He glances proudly at the gilded eagle at our prow, supporting a flagstaff with our American banner. The consul, Mr. Heap, and his son and myself, drop in by his side, under the awning, which flaps its scar- let scallops in the breezes of the Euxine. Mehmet is in the front, and all is arranged. The order to move is given. The ladies in the balcony, smiling but anxious, wave their adieux with handkerchief and hand. In the midst of the flurry my hat goes off with a report. This disconcerts the rhythmic stroke of the rowers. They look surprised simply, for the Turk never smiles. The ladies did. Then the Minister calls for cigarettes, and we compose ourselves for their enjoyment. I had taken the precaution to provide a sufficient quantity, know- ing their importance in Turkey and in diplomacy. We are out in the stream. The waves of this classic stream carry ripples of pleasure to kiss the shore, where the handkerchiefs still flutter, and the shore or the ladies rippled and kissed their hands in return ! I40 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. St. George flies his flag from the English Lega- tion, but there is no dragon about its portals only a sleepy dragoman. The princely villas of the Greeks who make Therapia their home are in summer repose, and seem to care little for our western hemisphere, embodied in ourselves. The waters are as lucent as though they had never been incarnadined by naval combat. Passing the quiet Kalender and the vine-clad Yeni Keni, we find our prospect enlarged by the best harbor of the Bos- phorus, Stenia. Cypress groves follow us to the Bay of the Battle Axe, where a villa built by Reschid Pasha, and presented by him to his daugh- ter Fatmeh, makes this prominent promontory regal in beauty. Then we run under the grand, gloomy, and fantastic towers of Hissar, where, beneath the shadow of the American College, we take on board the Professor. He gives to our dis- cussion of the etiquette, that classic fullness without which these receptions are tame. We pass Italian vessels, tugged up the stream, bearing American petroleum. That leads us to discuss our own meagre commerce. Our national pride is at low ebb as we remember that we bear the only American flag in this grand harbor. Here earth has lent her waters and the air has lent her breezes in vain for us, and sail and steam glide in ceaseless interchange for all nations but our own. Our enterprise at home is enslaved with a burden under which we bend we, the progressive, inventive nation among nations ! We row by the ferry steamers of the Shirket-i- Havrie Company. Their mixed crowds open their amazed eyes at our richly caparisoned boat, with its strange flag, its gayly-attired canvas, and its Major- RECEPTION BY THE SULTAN. ! 4I General and suite. "Crack!" goes my hat, and the amazement becomes consternation. Only for a moment, and we renew our cigarettes. We pass vessels full of melons, hay, and fruits, floating down with the " devil's current." Their sailors stop their swaying motion to gaze at us. The. hat settles them, and in dazed confusion they wonder what it* all means. Not a smile irradiates their faces ; they seem, after the oriental style, awed at our imposing state. We reach Arriaut Keni, the Albanian village where the stream narrows. Crowds of Greeks of both sexes are on the banks. They seem, like the fool in the fable, to be watching for the river to run out. Then appears the village of the " Dried-up Fountain " I forget its Turkish designation. It is full of the poetry of history, in which Medea and Justinian, Michael the Archangel, and Simeon Sty- lite of the column, figure. What are these dead memories to our living present ? Around the bend above Ortakeni, past the palace of a sultanic sis- ter, and about whom we gossip as we glance at the cemeteries and their cypresses, the umbrella pines on the hills, the curious costumes on the quay, the pomegranates and oleanders peeping over the walls, the latticed windows, and the ragged beggars be- neath, and then at the palace of Cheragan, where Abdul Aziz died. We listen to the Professor rehearse the story of his death. The time does not pass slowly, for as we move downward amid the river craft we have leisure for much discourse on our surroundings, and about home and the sad events there transpiring. Soon St. Sophia looms up in majesty at the Seraglio Point Stamboul looks gorgeous in dome and minaret, appareled in I4 2 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. celestial light. The Professor gives us of his lore and store appropriate associations for each object, to which the Minister adds his experience in New Mexico. I am curious about the early Greek em- pire, and its marvels of architecture and august rites of religion. We talk of Chrysostom, the golden-mouthed preacher of St. Sophia. " Tell us of him who outdid Plato in his larceny from the Hybla bees, and left them honeyless. What was the secret of his power? Whence the spell of his oratory ? " " From my reading of his works," responds the Professor, " his charm is in the grand sweep of his thoughts as to the shortness, insignificance, and meagreness of our mortal life compared with the endless beatific glory of our immortal destiny. This was his favorite theme, and although his language is not as opulent as the classic Greek, it has a rich- ness and splendor of diction of its own worthy of the muse of Sophocles and the eloquence of Demosthenes." We pass palace after palace below the Towers of Europe. Then we perceive a crowd on the marble steps of the Dolma-Batchke palace. It is a splendid picture. The palace is Corinthian. The eye is caught by the towering mosque. This is our land- ing-place. Near it is the old Kiosk of the Melons. It was once a favorite resort of Selim III. In ear- lier times it was the port of the Rhodians. It was formerly called Jasonian, as it was here that Jason went on shore with the Argonauts. Our first step, therefore, is on historic and classic ground. Here was once heard the jubilant song of the vic- tors after many a naval strife ; and here, when the Sultan Aziz was dethroned, fifty odd boat-loads of 21* RECEPTION BY THE SULTAN. '43 his women were emptied out of the harem, but hap- pily housed at the Seraglio. We are received in a style worthy of the spot. We are expected. Amid a bizarre crowd of turbaned and fezzed citizens, all agape with grave curiosity, and surrounded by some handsome young men, who are United States Con- sular and commercial agents, we discern the tall form of our Greek friend, Mr. Gadjoula. His black eyes are radiant with welcome, though his brow is corrugated with anxiety. He is the United States interpreter. On him we depend. He, too, has his "crushed hat." It is safely moored under his arm. I lift my hat from over my ears, and shut it up with noiseless solicitude, for there are soldiers and officials around. They are all smoking cigarettes. We are presented to an affable young Turk, Ibrahim Bey. He is U Introducteur des Ambassadeurs. By his side is Galib Bey. He is also r Introducteur des Ambassadeitrs. They were too courteous to ob- serve the shuffling gait of my immense shoes, but the latter looked curiously at my hat. They were elegant in carriage, men of mild manners, and w r ore new fez caps. They greet us with suavity as we land. Being only a secondary personage, I linger with the canaille, firing a subdued feu de joie at a small Arab vending fraudulent matches. Not a smile, only a curious, dazed expression radiates from the juvenile delinquent. We pass through this grand gateway of the quay, and out upon the street. There our cavass, not without difficulty, mounts a spirited horse. His burly form looks well upon a charger. We enter gilded coaches, driven by gold-laced coachmen, who light cigarettes. We settle down to our own cigar- ettes. Driving through the long lanes and streets 144 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. we pass under salutation of the brown-faced Turkish soldiers at the barracks. This the General returns with easy, accustomed grace. We pass eating-houses, where Turks are sipping Mocha and smoking nar- ghiles. They lazily drop the amber from their lips, and languidly regard the unwonted pageant. Ven- ders stop their cries of grapes and melons, silks and cigarettes, to gaze. The rags under which beggars sleep are stirred to liveliness, as though the fleas were on a fresh raid. Odalisques drop their muf- flers coyly to peep, and mounted soldiers and offi- cers in French uniforms, plus the fez, salute us at various points, where floats the crescent. We drive between hot yellow walls, within which are foliage, mosques, minarets, and dome, until we are within the palace grounds on the hill. These precincts are not romantic, nor is the palace Oriental. It is marble and modern. No gazelles are ambushed under roses ; no fountains send their spray to the sun. Some parterres, between graveled winding walks and drives, some shrubs and trees, not com- parable with Windsor or Peterhof, and we are in front of the gateway of the Sultan's palace of recep- tion. Here we are received by the officers of the day. We are introduced separately. My hat is held quietly under my arm, and, after some cigar- ettes and bad French, we are conducted over Turk- ish carpeted marble pavements to a hall leading to an oblong chamber of audience, lighted by windows of ground glass, where a company of dignitaries await us in decorous reserve. The Minister is presented by our interpreter to Le Grand Maltre de Ceremonic. His name is Munir Bey. He is handsome, large, and well-pro- portioned, and his manner is pleasing. He in- RECEPTION BY THE SULTAN, 145 quires after Aristarchi Bey, the Turkish Minister at Washington. When I say that I know him well, he is pleased to pay me special attention. I take the opportunity to say that no Minister is such a favorite socially, and none so sagacious and re- served diplomatically. The Bey is pleased to hear this of his friend at our capital. He graciously presents me to Le Premier Chambellan, Hamdi Pasha, who presents me to Le General du Palais Imperial, Ned jit Pasha, who presents me, not merely as rhomme d'etat, but, by the clever sug- gestion of our consul, I am presented, with the sounding title of President of the Foreign Affairs Committee of the American Chamber of Deputies, to Le Ministre des Affaires Etr anger es, Assim Pasha ! Thus ascending, I approximate the apex of this pyra- mid of greatness. Then I take breath and a cig- arette. Rousing all my pet French phrases, I study a few compliments, for everything seemed French. Assim Pasha is an elderly man. He stoops a little. He has silver hair, and not much of that. Mr. Heap, the consul, ever watchful over my inade- quacies and inexperience at court, points out, sit- ting on a red divan, the hero of Plevna, Osman Pasha. He is Minister of War. He is built like General McClellan. His face is unmistakably Ori- ental. His eye is large, black, and lustrous. He is an equable, handsome man. I caught his eye upon me, and held my hat with a tighter grip and fumbled for a cigarette. " Would you like to be introduced ? " said the consul. " Surely, it would be a supreme delight," I re- plied, for I was becoming superlative and Oriental. I was presented to the hero. 146 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. "You have been long here ? " he asks. " A month ago, waiting for this honor and the end of the Ramazan." " You came by way of England and France from America?" " No, General ; from the North Cape, in the Arctic Ocean, via St. Petersburg and Moscow." "Ah! est ce que cest possible? You like Rus- sia?" " I was relieved and happy when I reached the Sultan's dominion. The Czar's assassination casts a gloom over that country. Strangers are feared." This reply inspired some animation. " Were you interested in Russia ? " he asks significantly, for he is no lover of the Sclav whom he fought. " After seeing the midnight sun, other objects were not so interesting until I came here." Thereupon Mr. Heap came to my help, and to the wondering Pashas and Beys he made me the hero of the unsetting phenomena of the Nord Cap. "Have you been in Constantinople before?" asked Munir Bey. " Oh, yes, before you were born, I think ; for you look youthful. Thirty years ago, when Abdul Mejid was Sultan, I was here, and I longed to re- new my memories." There was a little chorus of surprise, sedately expressed as only Turks can express it, and another fusillade of questions. " Have you found any changes?" "Are we progressing?" "What do you see different ? " " Do we move with the age ? " " How do Americans regard us ? " To which I gave reply that I found now convenient steamers, an underground railway, tramways and railroads, newspapers in a half dozen tongues, steam and RECEPTION BY THE SULTAN. 147 light, better streets, and sumptuous villas. " True, the Seraglio palace is no longer here, but your pal- ace crowns the hill. You have had a great war, and we find more courtesy and tolerance of stran- gers. We visit St. Sophia and other mosques with comparative freedom. No, you are not behind many other nations in the race of improvement." All which seems to give pleasure to the listeners. I begin to feel that I am an old and familiar friend of the family. I describe the former Sultan, as I saw him in a grand parade on the fourth of July, 1851, and Munir Bey promises to show me his portrait on horseback in the palace. Then we take cigarettes. Before they are ashes, liveried Nubian servants in red coats, gold-laced, blue plush trousers and gold stripes down the sides appear. They bear the daintiest porcelain cups ever fairy conceived or Dresden fabricated. They are truly aesthetic, and crusted with dia- monds. We long to carry one home, not for the gems oh, no ! but for the artistic beauty. No sooner does the surreptitious thought enter the mind than the servants gather them up. We then form in line, behind the Minister, and under escort proceed up the staircase to the audience chamber. We pass up between soldiers, fine large Circassians, in their native array, who look at us impassively. African eunuchs, in strange contrast with the Circassians, in rich attire, stand like statues upon the steps. Officers with side-arms and soldiers with rifles are in waiting. We halt a moment at the head of the stairs, and, looking within through a large chamber, perceive in the grand salon before us, a well-made man of medium size, and of serene, almost melancholy, aspect. He stands 148 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. alone. He wears a blue uniform, or frock-coat, with the inevitable fez. He holds a sword hardly a sci miter, though it curves of golden sheath and jeweled hilt. It rests upon his patent leather shoes. A rich sash is over his shoulder. It is green, for green is the Mohammedan color. It is the symbol, I suppose, of the growing, fadeless 'Cal- iphate. We approach in due order, gallanted by the Ministers, and make a formal bow. Our suite form a crescent around the Sultan, with Major-General Wallace with his two stars in the concave. Next to him on the left is Assim Pasha, and on the right the interpreter, his hat still secure. After several rather elaborate bows from the Sultan's officers, we await events. The Sultan raises his dreamy, lan- guid, thoughtful eyes, and his sallow face lights up a little. Then the confabulation begins. There is an austerity of dread, a painful hush, as the Foreign Affairs Minister, in low, husky tones, announces the function and purpose of the visit. General Wallace catches the solemn spirit of the scene, and, subdued to the oriental quality, makes, in low tones, proper reference to his predecessor, and in the name of the people of the United States, with an emphasis prepense on "the people" which made me grasp my hat, expressed their desire for the good relations that had always existed between the two nations, and which he would endeavor to strengthen. The Sultan drops his impassive eye, with now and then a sidelong glance at us in turn. I take this opportunity, without discourteous curi- osity, to look about the large chamber. A dim light enters it from the east. The Sultan has his back towards Asia. The group is interesting. The atmosphere is one of funereal quietude. The gods RECEPTION BY THE SULTAN. 14 g * are shod with wool ; so are sultanic servitors. Neither the dresses nor the movements and speeches are loud ; quite and painfully otherwise. It is pomp, but pomp in unassuming display. The scene is not ornate nor Oriental. There are no trellis nor lattice casements, no tapestry nor ottomans, and no exuberant nor vulgar signs of luxury. No crystal jets shake their "lessening sil- ver in the sun," and there are no arabesques nor fantastic imagery. The surroundings are as simple as the audience is decorous. No groveling obei- sance is demonstrated. A few pictures decorate the walls. They represent Bedouin chiefs in the desert, pictures of local color, all but one, which rivets my eye. Unless I am in error, this picture on my left is that of the midnight sun, with its languishing light, hanging over the hazy horizon at Nord Cap ! Then I thought of the verse of the American moralist : " The bark of tempest, vainly tossed, May founder in the calm, And he who braves the polar frost Faints by the isles of palm. 1 ' Although a polar navigator, I felt the calm in- fluence ; and, comparing the situation with the bleak and desolate scenery which we had so re- cently viewed as thus pictured on the wall, I felt the contrasts of our summer voyaging. I am recalled from my reverie by reflecting upon the power of the Sultan. He is a man of calm dig- nity and superior intelligence. Mohammed II., the grand progenitor of this line, who took the city from the effete Greeks, may have had more elan, as he had a larger army, but he had no more JK O FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. reserve in his eye than his descendant before us. Was he not administering, amid troubles for which he is not responsible, a great empire of va- rious nationalities and religion, and under manifold embarrassments? By his illustrious descent and inborn dignity, by his position as the heir of the Othmans, Amoraths, and Suleimans, he receives, as the oriental chief should, that Occident which has never encroached upon his prerogative or do- main, and has no inclination nor object in doing so. I confess to an enthusiasm for this monarch. He is a king, every inch, and without any dramatic ostentation ; for I learn from our consul that he deserves great regard for his rare ability. He is his own adviser. Amid the troubles and care growing out of the equivocal death of his prede- cessor, and with the populations of divers religions and races which he must reconcile to rule, he is not unworthy of the fame of Abdul Mejid, whose memory is to me apart of my earliest association in this city, whose praises then were on every tongue. After the translation into the vernacular of the Minister's speech, and when it was expected the ceremony was done, General Wallace broke through the formal etiquette, and, stating that it was a cus- tom of his country, and a sign of cordiality, ten- dered his hand. The Sultan timidly, but blandly, breaks his reserve, and cordially replies. This reply is translated, when, in the same subdued whisper, and with much emotion, he asks the Min- ister the latest news of President Garfield's condi- tion. The Minister remarks that the news is bet- ter, but not encouraging. This episode engenders a human sympathy, and then we are in turn pre- sented. I am denominated, in French phrase, a RECEPTION BY THE SULTAN. IS ! "statesman," and my face assumes the color of the Sultan's fez. We have no elaborate, theatrical bowing. The only one who seems to be spe- cially Oriental in his salaam is Murid Bey. He bows quite low, and with singular grace, his hand to his head, breast, and lip, signifying that his mind, heart, and speech were complaisant ; but even he is not obsequious. Securing my hat and guarding my shoes, and without special trouble, I back out of the presence with the rest, and return to the salon below. There sherbet is served, with cigarettes. Then we are conducted back to one of the rooms above, where the pictures on the walls are shown and described. Three portraits are eminent in their attraction. One is that of Abdul Mejid. He was the son of Mahmoud II. He died in 1 86 1, and much virtue was entombed with him. Another is that of his brother, the unfortunate Abdul Aziz, who was deposed in 1876, and lived in utter retiracy. The other is that of the present Sultan, Abdul Hamid II., whose presence we have just left, the successor of a thousand years of domination, illustrated by more moderation and tolerance than the outside world is apt to believe. The picture of Abdul Mejid represents him on an Arab steed, whereat we are entranced. We indulge in equestrian talk. Murid Bey asks after American horses. "You are fond of horses in America?" he asks. " Our finest horses are proud of their pedigree from the famous steeds of the desert, and we are endeavoring, by the aid of their high lineage and blood, to make our horses win the prizes of the world." , 52 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. "You have won in France and England," he replied. I never felt any special pride in the American racers. The human race, not the horse race, is my study ; but a glow comes over my face as the Occident and Orient here again meet in mutual gratulation. Then Murid Bey asks after the Arab horses presented by the Sultan to General Grant, as to which I was nonplussed, not having had the run of the General's paddock. Then we turn to the likeness of the unfortunate Aziz, the late Sultan. The white horse which bears him is a superb animal, worthy of Wouver- man's pencil. Murid Bey says : " He is alive still." "Who?" said I, in surprise; "the Sultan?" That was my first lapse from the courtesies, for not a word had been uttered about the Sultan Aziz or his woful fate. "The horse," replied Murid Bey; "he is still alive. He is the pride of the stables." I look again at the steed. It was from life. It was portrayed with thin nostril, eyes like embers, and mane flowing like the ethereal hair of a Murillo Madonna. The Sultan sits upon him like a cen- taur, proud of his mastery of the noble animal. The steed curvets under a shaking bit with sidelong pace. I think of Job's war-horse, and then we are called to cigarettes again. Now we saunter around, and, after lingering a few minutes longer, descend to the open air. Here, bidding farewell to our polite hosts, we return to our carriages and to the quay. The windows of the villas on the Asiatic shore are blazing like burnished gold under the sunset. The Bosphorus is alive on bank and stream with RECEPTION BY THE SULTAN. 153 the throngs, who seem to revel in the serenest of evenings. Our ladies have promenaded down the shore to meet us on our return. The hat does its final duty in salutation, and we receive them in our caique. Returning to the Legation, we dine in sumptuous glee, and live over again our gala day. Was there a surcease of these delightful and novel experiences in sleep ? No. Such spells, we are told, haunt eye and ear, mix with our dreams, and form our atmosphere. Such pleasures are not like poppies spread, for when you see the flower the fragrance is not shed. Under the influence of an anodyne it is said that Coleridge fell asleep, after reading " Purchas's Pil- grimage " about the palace of Kublai-Khan, and dreamed out as a phantom architect his pleasure dome. I, too, had my dream. It was more har- monious and congruous than that of the drugged poet. In my serni-slumbers, half dozing till morn-- ing, half listening to the lapse and relapse of the waters below our balcony, and with the strange scenes, where eunuchs and Circassians, Ministers and Sultans, in chambers of arched beauty, sipped Mocha from tiny cups of jeweled beauty, I had the psychological experience of the dreamful poet, constructing out of my own consciousness a pleasure dome where sacred rivers ran through caverns measureless to man down by a sunless sea. Each gale wafted Idumean fragrance of incense- bearing trees in sunny spots of greenery, and dam- sels with dulcimers sung of Mount Abora and other heavenly heights, until I awoke to break my fast on something more substantial than honey dew, and to drink something more stimulating than the milk of paradise. VOL. II. 7* CHAPTER XIII. CONSTANTINOPLE OTHER CHANGES IN THIRTY YEARS. Magic casements opening on the foam Of perilous seas in fairy lands forlorn. KEATS. BEFORE we sail hence, let me record some of the salient points, changes, and customs which, after a lapse of thirty years, have struck me as worthy of written observation. One may tire of these costumes and streets, dogs and dirt, cries and mosques ; but one can never tire of the cool midsummer breezes of these waters, nor of the sa- lubrious delights of these hilly and historic shores. A month's sojourn here during the hot season, and awaiting the fall months for our Judean travel, has not made stale the supreme delight which we have enjoyed in these scenes. The excursion up and down the Bosphorus, from the bridge of the Golden Horn to the opening of the Black Sea, is some fifteen miles. It never fails to give solace and de- light. Certainly, it is a benison in answer to the prayerful and heated mind and body. Besides, with its landings some seventeen up and as many down it affords the stranger a chance to observe the influx and outgo of the many-raced people who use it for recreation and business. Priest and soldier, dervish and officer, Frank and Greek Greek in native costume and in the French 154 OTHER CHANGES IN THIRTY YEARS. 155 style Armenians in plenty, and Circassians, some in black and white sheepskins, and some in both, and every other nation here, meet and move on this river, and with them the women, and then the large-eyed children, innocent of veil and happy to breathe the fresh air of the running water. After you pass the old warehouse, where a sign can just be deciphered "Jason Coal Wharf"- the ladies of the palaces and villas, accompanied by their eunuchs and children,' begin to deck the dock with their " Turkey red " silk ; and the fashionable Broussa women, in motley as their only wear, ap- pear now and then accompanied with slaves, whose faces are hid by dark-figured gauze veils, and others whose dark faces need no veil. This ferry company has its thirty-five boats, which make sev- enteen trips a day. They charge twenty-two cents a trip up, and as much down the river. If they make six hundred double trips, at that rate, there is a gross receipt of $2,400 per day. There is a fine margin for dividends, and these dividends, as it is said, go to the palace, where the stock is owned, if not by the Sultan, by his pet pashas and their eunuchs. It is wonderful how the prejudices of race here are worn off and out. The eunuchs are all black as night, and as cunning as Satan. The other blacks which we see on the street and river mix in perfect equality with the white and brown of every kind and station. They compose the merchants and servants, soldiers and citizens ; and seem to be perfectly content thus to mix with their brown-faced brothers and fair-faced sisters. Where do so many Africans come from ? The slave market, they say, is no more, either for black or white slaves. They , 5 6 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. say so, but I do not believe it, as I know of a Turk- ish editor who recently lost his wife, and who said that he knew how and where he could go to market for another. This secrecy of the slave-trade is one sign of progress. Speaking of the Turkish ladies, a lady friend gave a curious experience of her own. She was on the boat going up the Bosphorus, and was seated near the curtain which always divides a certain portion of the boat in the rear from the other and more public part. This division is for the Turkish ladies more particularly. An English lady came in, and carefully placed her basket by her side. Soon an old Turkish woman entered, and, as the boat was crowded, she took a seat on the basket. As my friend knew some Turkish, she tried to aid the stranger in protecting her property from being crushed. This enraged the Turkish woman. She turned upon the lady with great venom, and, seizing the arm with her teeth, bit it most painfully, scold- ing loudly between times. As all this was going on behind the curtain, no one could see what was the matter. It created a scene. And then, greatly to their amusement, the old virago reached out under the curtain for a renewed attack, but the lady had drawn her feet up on the seat out of reach of the prowling fingers. A Turkish lady mildly pro- tested against the proceeding ; but, as she said after- ward to my friend, " I saw it was of no use ; the truth is, our days of fasting in Ramazan makes Turkish people cross and inflammable ; but I sym- pathize with you, and you were quite right in all you did." Indeed, we were told that Ramazan was not a good time to visit the bazaars Turkish merchants were not so affable then. OTHER CHANGES IN THIRTY YEARS, I57 In Spain they put wine in pigskins. Here the water is carried about in them, and the ugly porker sweats outside as he lies on the pack-saddle of the porter. He looks, as some one well describes him like a hog that had been drowned and bloated. Here water is a general beverage, and liquors the exception. As there are no carts or drays, all ' articles about town, including bricks and stone, are carried over the slim backs of donkeys and horses. Donkeys and men do most of the hard work, and do it well, considering the uphill work, narrow thoroughfares, and impeding dogs. The dogs are not so much of a nuisance by day as by night. A strange dog out of his bailiwick gives rise, at night or day, to a mob of other dogs, and a concerted howl, which is most hideous by night. Yet these dogs are not very troublesome to those who leave them alone. True, they have no owners, except the public, and lie in your path, asleep, but gentle. It is a pity to arouse them. I always walk around them with reverential awe. They have a wolfish look when aroused, but they are not any worse than the human race when undisturbed. This congre- gation of sacred dogs has not been much lessened with time. One of the consequences of their num- ber and scavenger trade is that they generate what Mark Twain, when writing of Switzerland, calls chamois ! Some one has said that the chamois is a good illustration of ratiocination, while the eagle is of " imagination all compact." The chamois climbs step by step to the height of some great Alpine argument ; while the eagle, with a grand swoop, pounces downward from his eyrie. The Eastern flea combines ratiocination with imagina- tion. j^8 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. The dogs of Turkey generate both. When they are in active exercise they give abnormal activity to those in pursuit. Oriental experience is dead and dull without fleas. No locality is free from them. They sit on the pillar of Theodosius in the Seraglio gardens, and, like Simeon the Stylite, have a penitential pillar of their own elsewhere ; they prowl about the Ambapadus at the Seven Towers ; they penetrate the palaces of the Sultan and the hollow tree of the hermit at the Hippo- drome. You perceive a beautiful odalisque at her lattice, looking down at the Bosphorus through her yashmak. She suddenly disappears. Ah ! why ? You see a devout dervish whirling, and with eyes shut and clothes making a periphery. All at once his whirl is accelerated. Ah ! why ? You dine at table d ' hote, with a select company, like that at our hotel, where we have princes, marquises, counts, admirals, bankers, and ministers ; but there is a restlessness among them. Diners leave the table prematurely and suddenly. Ah ! why ? " What good are fleas, anyhow ? " I asked of a learned man. ' To make this Eastern folk, who are disposed to be lazy, industrious," he replied. "You know," said a friend yesterday, "that na- ture has its compensations. How happy is that revelation of the microscope which shows us that the activity of the flea is partly caused by the para- sites which live upon its body." Science is con- sol in of. f o The watchmen who go about the city are heard from in the night. They are dressed in light clothes, wear a turban, and have a heavy stick, with OTHER CHANGES IN THIRTY YEARS. 159 iron at the end. With this they strike the stone of the pave till it rings. Thus they go the rounds and make their presence known. Sometimes a series of metallic raps indicate trouble or fire. The watchmen of Dogberry are not yet obsolete. We saw them, with lantern and staff, crying the hours and the weather, in Southern Spain. In Norway they exist not to apprehend " vagrom men," but to watch for fires, and because of old custom. The voegter of Norway carries a morning star, hot literally, but that is the name of his long, knobbed, and spiked staff. They are pious. They chant rhymes in the night. If the night be many months, it is quite a drain upon inspiration. This is the way some of their verses sound : " Ho ! Clock struck nine ! Praise the Lord ! The night is fine ! Wife and maid ! go to bed ! Master and lad ! Don't be bad ! Wind is west ; do your best! Say your prayer! Hallelujah! Lovet vo- ere Gud vor Herre / " The Turkish guardian is not so poetic, but he is just as noisy. We heard a watchman last night not only cry out something alarming in loud Turkish, that rang in and through the narrow streets below our window, but he rapped until the night became hideous, for the dogs took it up, and made this ancient capital howl. It was a fire. The Sultan's stables burned up, and some of his splendid stud. The light shone into our window, and made, with the moon on the river, a pretty antagonism of firelight and moon- light, with shadows to match. Fires here are of frequent occurrence, and very destructive/ Watchmen are stationed day and night on Galata and Seraskier towers, in Pera and Stam- boul ; while a high hill below Kaudili, on the Asiatic !5o FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. side of the Bosphorus, serves the same purpose for that division. At this latter place cannon are fired to indicate the location of the fire, and a red balloon lighted within is raised to the flagstaff. At the towers of Galata and Stamboul colored flags are hoisted, while waiting firemen, fast runners, are despatched in all directions, informing the regular watch and crying the quarter in which it occurs. How easily a few clicks of the telegraph would ob- viate these devices. The engines are small boxes. Each one is carried on the shoulders of four men, who run, crying " Fire ! " When they arrive at the place, they wait to be employed by people whose houses are in danger. Another set of firemen are soldiers. These are armed with axes and long poles with iron hooks. They tear down the wooden houses, and so isolate the fire. The fire engineers, who are paid, enjoy special privileges. The narrow- ness of the streets and the combustible material of the houses are the causes of these frequent fires ; but it has become customary now to widen the street after every fire, and to rebuild with stone. After every fire there is a change of street. Thus we have found in Pera and Stamboul quite an im- provement made by the aid of conflagration ; but there is abundant room for more fires. What an immense mausoleum of the past are these hills and mountains ! What a museum could here be collected to illustrate these generations of moving millions along these shores. The Turks have an archaeological museum at Constantinople, which we visited. It might well be thought that Turkey, having dominion over so many ancient lands, would have a splendid collection of antiqui- ties ; but richer and more curious nations have the OTHER CHANGES IN THIRTY YEARS. j6i best of the Assyrian and Greek disinterments. Just now Hormuzd Rassam who has been thirty years digging about Assyria for the British Mu- seum, and who has not limited himself to Babylon has scoured the whole Tigro-Euphratean under- country, with wonderful results. These are just being made known. Other wonders are coming to light. It is an era of archaeology here and here- abouts, and although this museum is a poor speci- men, it is a beginning in a good location. There is a big Assyrian god of hideous aspect upon its porch, and plenty of Grecian torsos and Roman emperors and broken things inside and about. Dionysius, our guide, takes us by the hand, with a solemn mien, and points to a tomb, within whose marble case are the bas-reliefs of two persons, and the inscription in Greek says that these are Dio- nysius and his wife. He has lines of anger upon his face, while I may say for her, after two thousand years, that, without fear of her deceased lord and master " Ne'er did Grecian chisel trace A nymph, a naiad, or a grace Of fairer form or lovelier face." We had some pleasantry at the passionate as- pect of Dionysius, in which the attendant, who knew our guide's name, joined. We had our fun in time, as the Irishman said about getting in his playfulness at the bull in the pasture before he landed over the hedge; for I had no sooner pro- ceeded to sketch a little mummy in a glass case, with its swelled head and cracked skull, old rags and funny eyes, plastered with white, before in rushed the outside warder, and without either dig- nity or sense ordered me to quit making images !6 2 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. and to destroy what I had made ! Well, as this was only an aesthetic exercise, and not in a holy place, and as I had violated no rule of Mohammed or the Koran, I held on to my sketch. The horses here are small, but lively. They have not degenerated, but they are spirited, for a reason not necessary to write. There are fifty car- nages here now, where there used to be one ; but there is not a very great improvement in the streets. The ride over these pavements is worse than over our pioneer corduroy roads. Every street has its shops. Those in the bazaars are open, so that all a man has in his shop can be seen at a glance. In the bazaars the merchants sit cross- legged, and, when not too busy, smoke their nar- ghile, chibouque, or cigarette. The last is smoked by everybody, old and young, from the Sultan down. Every one is privileged to ask another to light his cigarette. I have illumined a dozen times those of boat-hands and pashas. The hamals, or porters, who bear burdens six hundred pounds or more, on their backs or on poles or those who drive donkeys, loaded with wood, panniers, stone, brick, or vegetables are always smoking. They will stop to wipe their sweat and light a cig- arette. They will stop any one in the street for this comfort, which allays so much of their discom- fort. The women also smoke, in and out of the harem. In the apartments on the steamers set apart for them, there arises a cloud of fragrant incense. The street-criers are harsh and loud. These men bear candies, grapes, coffee, cakes, meats, goods, wares, etc., upon their heads, and with them they tread the narrow, uneven streets with light OTHER CHANGES IN THIRTY YEARS. ^3 step. This custom makes the men straight and their walk handsome. No better walkers " as- you-please " goers have I ever seen, both in city and country, than the drivers of donkeys and camels, who pursue, or lead, with quick step and lofty mien their animals. The street cries, are a torment. Was it not John Leech who said that his life was shortened by organ-grinders ? Well, it will be one of the gains in leaving here, when we leave these horrid, barbaric yawps behind. There is an air of seclusion as to some of the higher digni- taries, just as with their tombs. The people and government seem to be very careful of the tombs of Pashas and Sultans, and guard them with more vestal vigilance than those of the dervishes and hermits. But the tombs of the general cemeteries are neglected. The cypress trees are as dirty, rusty, and ragged as the beggars of the streets. One charge against Aziz, the assassinated Sultan, to prove his insanity, was that he went about in a friendly way shaking hands with his humble sub- jects ! But in death his tomb of mother-of-pearl is loaded with rich vestures, cashmere shawls, and sil- ver ornaments. These Turks may kill off their Sultans ; but certainly they honor them when dead. The cemeteries, even those in the heart of Pera, and where there are thousands of headstones, are being despoiled. Over the leading cemetery there is now a Greek garden, where people of all nations commingle to drink coffee and wines, have meals and ices, and listen to music. Wells are sunk into these grounds. The wife of our Minister con- fidentially told me that she had drank down the remains of a generation of Turks, carefully held in solution and drawn from these wells. One won- 164 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. ders if the spirits of the dead Turks below these pleasure-grounds do not grow restive under these diversions of the infidel dogs ! " Far-away-Moses," celebrated by Mark Twain, just called with some stuffs to show my wife. She found him in the Turkish bazaar here. He is now going over the purchases she made in Broussa this week. He commends her success. He sends his compliments to Mark Twain and Mrs. Clemens, whom he greatly regards. He said some kind words over the rumor which he had heard that Mark Twain had become insane. He seemed to credit it. He said that Mark imagined himself to be a pyramid, or some other Egyptian monument. This was painful, but it was a noble sort of insanity. Forty centuries hallow and look down on it! As such, Moses commended it. He intimated that when Mark Twain was "beside himself" he had good company. The costumes worn are peculiar. The dress of the Turks is baggy, and made so as to enable them to sit cross-legged, and pray with facility. It is quite flowing, so that sometimes you cannot tell the sexes. Especially is that the case as to children. I lost a wager the other day with an Irish solicitor, as to the sex of a young child. It had long hair, and wore pantaloons and coat. It was difficult to ascertain, but our dragoman made it out. It was really a boy. Beggars are plentiful in the street. They have learned the art of personating misery by rare theatrical and facial expression. The other morning, while a lady friend was dilating behind her fan on the eccentricities of the female toilet, in her earnestness she dropped the fan, but her hand and fingers went on, outside the carriage, and with OTHER CHANGES IN THIRTY YEARS. ^5 such gesture, that a dozen beggars began the race, over the bridge, after the backsheesh. Lame, halt, aged, deaf, and dumb, all except the blind, joined in the pursuit. It was suggestive and amusing. As we go up and down the Bosphorus, we see the strangest contrasts. Palaces there are, walled in, where figs and pomegranates are in fruit, and oleanders and geraniums in flower and growing in profusion on wall and in garden ; while beneath the gorgeous walls lies a bundle of rags with a body inside of it, asleep, but ready to wake and pounce upon any intruding stranger, for alms. One cannot but feel that the Turkish costume is very inconven- ient, except when they sit cross-legged, or when they only pretend to sit and do not, resting hands upon knees. This I have seen both sexes for long periods do without apparent fatigue. Yet with all this peculiarity of trousers, turban, sash, and coat, there is seldom one man or boy dressed exactly like another. That is the case especially in the country ; for there the different villages or prov- inces have peculiar and distinctive colors and clothes for head and body. They are all, however, generally gay in color, red being most preferred. Some of the localities may be determined by the breadth and length of the rear of the breeches. Some of them carry a good deal beside their persons inside of their large, bulgy breeches. They are very useful to conceal contraband goods. The sash is sometimes two feet in width, and carries every- thing, from the tobacco-pouch, pipe, pistols, and knives, to the dry-goods and pro vender of a family. The nursery maids here, especially for the better families, are men ! Fathers seem very fond of their little ones. The husbands of the lower orders r 66 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. of Turks are frequently seen caring for their babies, and seem to be quite maternal. The women are neither immodest nor forward. They have, without exception, beautiful eyes, though awkward in gait. Their skins are sallow. The children are all pets and beauties, and their eyes are radiant with kindness and simplicity. As an evidence of un- progressiveness, the bridges over the Golden Horn take toll from horse and foot, which is a great an- noyance to the million and more of people in and about these cities. An old fashion, especially among the Greeks, obtains here yet, as we saw it a score and a half years ago. It is the use of beads, or comboloio, in conversation. Every time they drop a bead, they have or drop an idea. It assists in talk, just as the handling of a watch-chain or eye- glass aids the orator. We had made trial trips above and around the city with a guide ; but all at once, last week, we were for the first time left alone without our guide to meet us at the landing in the city. Can we find our way without him ? We get off at the bridge and endeavor to pursue our way through the de- vious streets to the hole in the hill of Galata, that takes us, by tunnel, up to Pera. I resolved to in- quire my way in good English, for I get weary sometimes of my bad French, arid so I accost a natty man, Frank by nation and nature. " Can you tell me the way to the tunnel, mon- sieur?" I ask with suavity. He says, " Pardonnez moi, m'sieu. Vich vay you come from the estee- miare, so you go." Not understanding that, I ask for the tunnel. " Ah ! you have leetle time to get ze billy. I vill run and get zare first, m'sieu." OTHER CHANGES IN THIRTY YEARS. j6; " Don't," I replied, fearing a bill, and not a billet. " I dont want you to go ; tell me how which street ? " " Ah ! you will go down ze rue, voila ! and zen make turn of ze leetle street dere, voila ! Soon aftare you will have see a leetle dog two, tree, four leetle dog do not kickee ze dog go ze detour round ze dog, and round more dog, and more dog, and more dog, and you will zee ze dark hole of ze tunnel." As the dogs are the principal object of observa- tion in the streets, we had no difficulty in seeing them, but more in going round them, and after much worry we got into the hole and the car, and ran up fourteen degrees elevation in three minutes without a glimpse of light. This is the latest evi- dence of progress in the East. Thirty years ago we were here ! It made me feel that I was a quasi-posterity to myself. The echoes of the past the shadows on the dial, which have numbered nearly two generations have a peculiar influence at every aspect over my ob- servations. On the day we landed, there was an exultation in the hope of making comparisons ; and the four weeks since have exalted them into something out of the ordinary experiences of hu- man life. Ah ! if these shadows and echoes could only talk not merely of things which have hap- pened here, but at home, as to which I have been both actor and looker-on the big war and its ex- cesses, and the wondrous advancement of our be- loved land, since, in all that makes one proud and patriotic. These years have broken many of the mystic seals of Moslemism, and restamped these Eastern elements of weakness and power with a x68 EROM POLE TO PYRAMID. new signet. New shibboleths of party and new- phases of institutions have also come and gone in our own country ; and with them what great events ! Here, in spite of the lazy movement of affairs, and- the habitude of the Oriental to say, " Inshallak Bukera / " " Please God ! to-morrow " still there are marks, deep and clear even in my own expe- rience of these climes, showing that this Eastern world is not altogether moveless and stagnant. CHAPTER XIV. THROUGH THE DARDANELLES WITH AN IRISH CAP- TAINSEA-COASTS OF ASIA AND ITS DEAD EMPIRES AND CITIES DOMESTICITIES OF THE PEOPLE ARABS AS CATTLE DROVERS JEWS PERSECUTED BEIRUT REACHED. Sheep climb and nibble as they stroll, Watched by some turbaned boy, Upon the margin of the plain of Troy. PIERPOINT. THE peninsula between the thirty-sixth and forty-first degrees of north latitude is one of the most remarkable countries upon this planet. It has but one rival, and that is a similar block of land five degrees wide upon its south-east. The former is known as Asia Minor. It is fringed and tasseled by rocks and waves, and somewhat re- motely by the Isles of Greece and the ./Egean. On its north, from Constantinople to Trebizond, it has the Black Sea as its blue border ; while on its east it includes and is limited by the Armenian plateau, with Mount Ararat, and the supposed Garden of Eden. This sounds not a little like the bombastic boundary of our native sunset border by " a fel- low-citizen." Out of this eastern boundary are the confluents which make the rivers Euphrates and Tigris. Their upper waters bend toward Aleppo, and give hints to English and other engineers of the Euphrates railway en route to India. Then turning to the south-west the Euphrates seeks the " -":f ' 169 170 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. Persian Gulf, through rich alluvial plains which once supported their millions, and were as blooming as the gardens of Babylon. Therein lies Bagdad. It once gloried in her caliphate, and had a sceptre reaching as far as Granada and Gibraltar. Lying between the crooked windings of the Eu- phrates and the ranges of Lebanon is the unin- habited waste known dimly as the "desert." It is as well marked on the horizon by its peculiar phases seen from the hills of Jerusalem, upon the east, as it is from Damascus. One of its little off- shoots is in the south. It is the desert of the Exodus and the Bible. But from the western line of this Syrian desert to the Mediterranean, there is a narrow, mountainous, sunburnt, calcined slip, hardly three hundred miles long, by one hundred in breadth, which is as bleak in look as it is bare of population, and as meagre in production as it is renowned in sacred history. This is known as Syria and Judea. Its mountains and plains, its caves and temples, its seas and rivers, from Hermon to Tabor, or rather from the Rhas El Ehanzir to Sinai, are the sources of rivers as well as of moral- ities, of streams for a thirsty soil as well as of relig- ions for a thirsty soul. When we concluded to sail along these apostolic coasts, we were lucky in having our former vessel, the Nakhimoff. We had crossed the Black Sea in her without fear of dynamite, explosion, or wreck. Besides, was not her captain a Corkonian ? So that when Captain Thomas received us on his steamer, in the Golden Horn, we felt that not only was the starry flag about us, but the green ensign of Erin was " still there," behind the double-headed eagle on the Russian flag-staff. Under these pro- ASIA AND ITS INHABITANTS. I - Jl tective surroundings, and with a load of Turkish humanity utterly indescribable, we passed the Dar- danelles, the old scenes of Troy, the new city of Smyrna, the shaken isle of Chios, and found our- selves at last afloat for a week on this sometimes fractious sea. Two generations have gone since last I passed this way ; and an active life, filled with the strain of every sinew of such energy as I had, had not lessened one iota my early love for the FIRST FAIR and FIRST GOOD, which made my early study of Greek literature, mythology, and history an en- chantment. I well remember how eagerly I looked out of our French steamer, in July, 1851, for the plains of Troy. Since then they have been made the object of much excavation, and almost of as much disputation as the kings of Greece indulged in around its walls, or scholars of polyglotical tongues since, as to their location. Then, as now, little was to be seen ; not even if you land and go into the recent " diggings." The reader will know that the plains of Troy, and Troy itself, have given rise to something more than mere logomachy. A rival city, or rather a city on a rival site, was built by Alexander the Great upon a spot upon the coast, which we viewed in a haze below the point where Dr. Schliemann and others locate old Troy. I have not time nor ability, in the absence of my books (for who can work magic without his books, not even in a " Tempest ?"), to fight over again the battle of the Greeks and Trojans. My hero in that ten-years' fight was Thersites. He was never honored as he should have been. He was called democrat, critic, buffoon ; but he ever used his logical ad J72 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. absurdum, and his gifts of wit and principles of honesty, to expose " star bids " for Troy, and to push the dilatory toward conflict, and to punish the venal and debauched. With a passing look at the plains of Troy as we went out of the Dardanelles ; with a curious won- der at the contents of the tumuli, which, like those in my native Ohio, loom above the levels of the plain and shore, we retire to our cabin to discuss with a learned Greek, once a teacher in America, Mr. Constantine, and now an eloquent minister of the gospel in Smyrna, the meaning, situation, mythology, and scope of the Iliad. We had some disputation, as who does not when Homer and his home and epic are the topic ? Whereat a lady at our table smiles with a " knowing satisfaction," which is not unnoticed. We call her out. She talks English handsomely. She is of Dutch descent. Her maiden name is known in New York, and her Polish name (for she is married) is known to the roster of Polish nobility. The one is Van Lennep, and the other well, I must not risk its "spell." This lady is a descendant of one of the old Levan- tine company from Holland, who came to Smyrna for commerce a century or more ago. As in New York, so in Smyrna, the Dutch have not given way exactly. They have been submerged somewhat by a new influx of commerce and enter- prise. This lady settled our Trojan war over the site and authenticity of the ruins on the plains ; for did not her aunt own a farm on the very site of Troy ? Was she not herself a resident animus revertendi of Priam's old home ? Had she not borne five children there ? She surely ought to know. She was going to her relatives in Smyrna ASIA AND ITS INHABITANTS. 173 for a respite from the fever which was in her sys- tem ; for Nature, rising above epics, will have her revenges, and the very route which Achilles took, as he dragged the dead Hector around, is cursed worse than the Potomac flats with malaria, and re- quires more quinine and whisky than the Maumee ever did in early Ohio. One advantage of this travel is, that even the inconveniences of a motley crowd gave us an in- sight into habits only to be seen in the homes of men. These people travel much. When they leave home, they take up their bed literally and scripturally, and steam to other lands, They bear their board along. Their families are on the deck. They cook, eat, and sleep, as if in their native huts on the bleak mountains of Syria. Separated from them, by being " first class," yet we observe, if not mingle with them. Their domestic distresses even death, their police regulations even in guarding assassins, and their loving-kindnesses and religious devotions are under our eye. Besides, the vessel not only stops in the ports along the way, but stops all day, so that we can survey the cities and towns. Most of these isles of Greece and cities by the sea are seen, with their castles and mosques. They are seen from the ship, with a glass, without landing. Even when you cannot see the historic, sacred, or traditionary spot, it is pleas- ant, as the captain said, " to feel you are nigh unto it." When we pass the famed Greek isle, which is sheer five hundred feet of rock, from off which the Greek brothers, husbands, and fathers drove their women into the sea rather than that they should fall into the hands of the Turks, it was too misty but it was pleasant to be " nigh." 174 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. Again we are in the open sea, but not out of sight of the Isle of Patmos, so weird in its " Rev- elations." Upon yonder rocky isle once stood the exiled seer. There he dreamed of the land he had left. The murmur of the wave upon the shore gave voice to his ideal. It kindled his rapturous eye, as he saw beyond the surges beyond the horizon where the white sails gleamed in the sun another sea, more smooth and crystalline, and a harbor of safety for our storm-tossed race of sin the harbor of eternal joy ! There shone the light, when the angel came to him, and pointed toward the pearly gates to which his soul mounted, and whence came the ecstatic song of the ransomed. Wondrous strange the inspiration of these isles of Greece ! We are still in the open sea to the right of Lero, Kalymno, and Kos, with their splendid mountain ranges, and between Nisyro and Telos and ever in the sight of a constellation of terrene memories, each an enchanting gem set in the bluest of waters. At length we leave the classics and the myths and their localities behind, for a vision of the isle of Rhodes, to the north of which we sail, and around whose extreme point, where the old city of the Knights of St. John is situated, we pass for a view of windmills on the lowlands. Its red pal- ace is in the middle of the city, and its world- renowned Colossus nowhere and no more ! We saw the place at the entrance of its harbor the two points, rather, where the feet of the giant stood ! It was no great thing, only a hundred feet high, though a "wonder of the world." It was not equal to the Brooklyn bridge in its span or expense ! ASIA AND ITS INHABITANTS. J 75 It was thrown down by an earthquake, and its bronze sold on speculation by an Ottoman officer. Rhodes has distinguishing features in history and politics. When I drew the first joint resolution for the exchange of prisoners at the beginning of our war, it was based on the prescript of Vattel, who found its element and precedent in the siege of Rhodes by Poliorcetes. This made Rhodes of special interest. Besides, its climate and scenery, its olden commerce and just codes, its elder day of fierce contests, and its new conflicts with the Turk make it only next to Cyprus in its interest to the tourist, statesman; and scholar. Since we passed out of its sight we have had two days and two nights of serene sailing over these azure seas, and without a ripple to send us below. No Grecian god has thrust his trident into boiling seas. Only once or twice the southern and rocky coasts of Asia Minor have been sighted. Last night we crossed the Gulf of Adalia, and we were awakened this soft and sweet morning to see the little seaport of Mersina. When we landed at Mersina we were only three hours from Tarsus, where St. Paul was born. We could have gone there, though under a hot sky, and with some protection, and still reached our boat before it sailed ; but Tarsus now is not the magnificent city it once was. It boasts of Roman inscriptions ; and it is quite a place for trade and Turks. Once it rejoiced in a splendid university. The Roman emperors selected tutors for their chil- dren from Tarsus. St. Paul was one of the stu- dents. He was also a tent-maker, as he called himself, and to this day there is a kind of cloth from the goats of Cilicia of which Tarsus was the 176 PROM POLE TO PYRAMID. capital which is used for tents. It is yet used there by the Turcomans. Here Antony fell in love, at first sight, with Cleopatra. Tarsus was a Roman city, and Paul a Roman citizen. He made good use of his rights as such, when his enemies harassed him. We did not visit this noted place, for we received at the port a telegram announcing the President's death, and felt in no mood for the excursion. In my wife's journal is this record. It is the ending of the long suspense, which was as much, if not more poignant to us abroad, than to others at home : " Friday, Sept. 23d. We are at Mersina for breakfast. A dispatch comes from Smyrna. Alas ! pur President is dead. I wait before giving it to S. S. I say to him : ' General Garfield is worse.' But the truth must have been felt, as he immediately inquires, 'Is he dead?' And the captain, not seeing my intent, says, 'Yes.' It was a shock. They had served together so long, and had been so cordial in their relations and sym- pathies. Our Muscovite Mohammedans, on the way to Mecca, who are in the cabin inquire, ' What is the matter ? ' They see our trouble. The steward explains, whereupon they express great sympathy." We heard of the great calamity, in Norway, on the 6th of July. Since that time, two months have gone, during which we have not been without anxiety. Those at home can hardly understand it. For fourteen years I served with the dead President, representing, part of the time, the same State, and sometimes on the same committees. The loss is more than that of our Chief Magistrate. It is a per- sonal affliction. God help and sustain the bereaved, and give wisdom to execute the established order. ASIA AND ITS INHABITANTS. 177 These mercantile Russians are very kind. They are devoted to their religion. They speak Rus- sian only, and read Arabic and study their tenets and Koran nearly all the time. They pray seven times a day, under the lead of a priest. I have learned to respect them greatly, although I can only talk to them by signs and through the stew- ard. They dress in long, drab surtouts, and have a profusion of gold chains. One of them wrote me his name and address in Russian. His name is Ksamabden Castroff. He is wealthy, and lives on one of the remote streams which empty into the Volga. When on deck these pilgrims were not sure, owing to the turning of the vessel, which way Mecca lay. No wonder. We were amid the Archipelago ; and after the mufti had called them to prayer, and their rich rugs were spread, I had the temerity to correct their direction. My en- gineering skill was in consequence of a compass a charm on my watch chain. It has done duty twice in managing a Moslem prayer-meeting. The captain likes these Cossacks, although they be Mussulmans. He does not like the Turks. " All the turf," he says, " in the bogs of Ireland, wouldn't warm me to them." A description of our companions in voyaging would be of interest, as these Orientals take their domesticities along. We have a family on our steamer who are quite attractive, and with whom we regret to part. It is that of a Turk, Essad Bey. His photograph lies before me. He is Auditor of the " Six Contributions," as they are called in Constantinople that is, certain reserve or farmed revenues. He is going to Aleppo, with his one wife. She is a daughter of Djemul Pasha, I7 8 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. the Governor of the Aleppo District and a general of cavalry. Her name is Safvet Hanime, and her sign manual (not her picture, I regret to say) i:; upon the back of his photograph in dainty Turkish characters. She is the granddaughter of Ncmik Pasha, the oldest living general in the Turkish service. She has several attendants, not the least attentive of whom is the husband. We thought at first that they were groom and bride ; but she tells us she has a child at home. She is only seventeen, and has a winsome face and gentle manner. We have occasion to know, for she dropped her yash- mak, after the first day or so, although still wearing it on her head. A voluminous silken ulster con- ceals her form. Her husband talks French, and we talk to her through him. The captain rallies her for hiding her beauty so often under the veil, as God intended all loveliness to be seen. "There's so many ugly. ones we see," he says ; " ugh ! the earth's heavy and the sea's groanin' wid 'em. So let your face shine ! " The captain is an aesthete, and believes that women are trustees of beauty. They take our badinage good-naturedly, and with pleasant parting salutations we separate at the port of Aleppo, which is Alexandretta. She arose early in the morning and came to our cabin ; but my wife did not know her, for she had put on the colored Arab veil, and was enveloped utterly. We waived them our adieus as we saw him mount his steed, and saw her mount a palanquin, fixed between two horses, for a three days' journey over the moun- tains to Aleppo, by way of Antioch. They gave us an earnest invitation to go along. " How glad our mother would be, and father, ASIA AND ITS INHABITANTS. 179 too." This was both hearty and courteous, and would have been a delight. It seems that her father has been to Paris, on the staff of the late Sultan, Abdul Aziz. He has advanced notions of government. When we rallied Essad Bey for his devotion to his wife, so unusual among the Turks, he said : " Oh, my father and grandfather were the same." The captain told me that Essad was the only Turk he had ever seen who had made a friend of his wife. " Most of them," he says, " put their wives in a pen on the lower deck, and take a first-class for themselves ! " Alexandretta, where we leave them, is a hot place. It is in the extreme north-east corner of the Mediterranean, and unhealthy. The steward closes the windows of our cabin in his care for us. If ever the Euphrates railway is built, this port will be its entrepot. Indeed, it is surmised that one reason for England acquiring Cyprus, west of this bay, is to consummate the route to India, by way of the rich valley of the Euphrates, and the Persian Gulf. All day long we wait here, taking in cattle. We perceive caravans of camels loading and unload- ing on the shore. Much amusement is afforded in watching the chase of the frightened mountain bullocks that escape from the clutches of the Arabs as they endeavor to place them in the lighter. " These cattle," says the captain, " go to Egypt, where, unless they arrive in season, there is a fam- ine ; but you see they are calves compared with those we fetched across from Russia." We take on some sheep and hogs, which gives jgo FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. the captain a chance to quote his favorite, Samuel Lover, one of whose characters says that " prices are so high in Ireland, by reason of the staymers, that makes gintlemen of the pigs, sending them on their thravels to furrin parts." The native name for Alexandretta is Scanderoon. It is surrounded by a pestilential marsh. The vil- lage is a sample of a poor post town, built on land made by the debris of the winter streams from the mountain wash. Our vessel is two hundred yards from the shore. The water is very blue and smooth. There is a level plain to the right, and a line of low hills to the left. There are a few trees on the plain. The mountains above are wrinkled by streams. Evidently this head-quarter of caravans is subject to quakes or fires. There are few roofs on the buildings. There are twenty houses of stone- warehouses in front of which are piles on piles of goods, mostly bales of cotton. The beach is neat. The noise on the shore is from a score of Arabs, in dirty clothes and dirtier turbans, howling at the cattle and jabbering with each other. Our baby engine is working the crane, lifting on boxes and bales. Consular flags are flying in the port none American. Camels, laden, are moving out over the hills to Tarsus and Adana. Back of these moun- tains is the Antioch of the Christians and the Aleppo of the Moslems ; and between them are churches of 'the early Christians yet standing, and, except the roofs, as perfect as when they were built. Up these defiles are the roads of the early conquer- ors of Asia Minor and Syria. Here, or hereabouts, is where Alexander marched and apostles and martyrs walked and talked. The Russian consul and the steamer's agent ASIA AND ITS INHABITANTS. jgi come aboard. Our steward again arranges the dinner on the deck, dividing us off by a sail from the noise and crowd. As Simeon, the steward, brings upon the table the fish, he points out to us the precise point where the whale threw up Jonah. We get our glass and examine the spot. Sure enough, two pillars and a temple to " Yonah " (as Simeon calls him) appear. The " grand poisson" is discussed with much sauce. The captain says : " The story is like that of the goose that diverted King O'Toole. It was a good goose for a while ; but after a little it could divert him no longer with- out the aid of a saint. There's no whales in this sea, and never was." The Russian consul disputes this.* He had heard of one. " Oh, it's a grampus," says the captain. "They can't swallow a herring." " No ! a real whale," says the consul. " Baitheshin ! it may be," says the captain; "but how could there be more than one Jonah? They have, two other places down the coast, by Tyre and Sidon, where Jonah landed from the mouth of the whale." This was a settler ; but the Russian consul, whose mother was a Scotch Presbyterian, was not going to give up Jonah as easily as the whale did, and he returned to the fight. " Sperm whales," he argued, " can swallow a man." " But the whales you refer to as being here, were they sperm ? " asked the captain. * I have seen a whale since, in the Beirut Medical College, or its skele- ton rather, found near where Jonah is supposed to have been disgorged. It was not sperm, however. X 8 2 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. The consul is bothered. I closed the discussion by intimating that if any part of the story be true, it is all, very likely ; and that if it be only a moral or an oriental parable, it may be just as wise, if a fiction ; and if it be miraculous, the work of God, who shall dispute anything in the story, however seemingly miraculous ? " In the darkness as in the daylight, On the water as on land, God's eye is looking on us And beneath us is his hand." The captain then enlarges on the game in the mountains. He points to places, steeped in heat and glare, where he knew there were wild boars. "I went there once," he said, "with a fowling- piece for birds. The bird I found gave a grunt, ugh ! and ran across the road, as much afraid of me as I of him. We were both scared. I didn't waste any small shot on his tough hide ; but shot myself down hill !" We laughed ironically. " The divil hang me wid ropes made out of the sands of the sae, if what I tell is not the thruth." A delegation of Hebrews waited on the captain to ask a place by themselves, to welcome in their new year by their peculiar worship. There are one hundred and seven on board, flying from Russia and Germany to Judea. "The Turks make game of us," they said, "and we want to be in the hold by ourselves." That is arranged ; and the cattle, sheep, and pigs all stored, the water-casks loaded in, and we prepare to go on shore, after the sun sinks, to see the famous landing-place of Jonah. From this we are dis- suaded by this story of the consul : ASIA AND ITS INHABITANTS. 183 " It is all safe over on the right, where we live in the mountains. You are in no danger going there ; but over to the left there are plenty of brigands. They are Circassians. They left the Russian Gov- ernment after the conquest of their country, and were assigned these sterile mountains. They couldn't make anything, and so turned brigands." So we did not venture to the place where Jonah landed. We have a hundred refugee Jews from Russia. They are going to Jerusalem. Most of them are of Poland, and poor. Some are from Germany, and have undergone great loss and trouble. Two corre- spondents of journals are aboard in the second class. They have been unfortunate. They had been walk- ing the via dolor osa. They are going to Jerusalem, to write up for their journals the efforts at restora- tion and colonization in Judea. Efforts have been made, and are making, to this end. A Hebrew gentleman in Constantinople is striving to obtain the proper privileges; and money is assured for immigration, if the refugee be ready and assured of government protection. The effort by the Union of the American He- brew congregations is appreciated in its aid to the helpless victims of bigotry and persecution. The Alliance at Paris and its efforts are less known. It is to be hoped that the opprobrium of our nine- teenth century, with its vaunted civilization, will be removed by the benevolence of mankind, led by the free spirit and abundant opulence of the Western Hebrew. No cause ever so appealed to human sympathy. When even the Spanish King reverses the record of ages in Spain, and begs pardon of the great race, which his predecessors despoiled and per- !8 4 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. secuted ; when America opens a haven and refuge in the West, to beacon these hapless sons of Israel to its shores ; when former disabilities disappear from England and France, and the civic and parlia- mentary offices, and tribunals of influence open to this gifted race in the lands where they were hounded unto death it would not do for a country profess- ing our liberalities of thought and constitutional guarantees to be backward in the race of sympathy and advancement. But how much there is to be done to rescue the " despised and rejected of men ?" Even in Turkey, where the Jew is much better treated than in Ger- many or Russia, I have seen, on the steamers of the Bosphorus, a Hebrew caned by an Ottoman soldier, for no other provocation than his being a Jew, and because the soldier had the sympathy of the crowd, and no one to interfere. Upon our vessel, a Jew, who had made some mistake as to his fare, was not allowed explanation, but thrust out upon the gangway, tumbled down into a boat, headlong, in peril of life by breaking his neck or drowning. There he lay, stunned, in the bottom of the boat, to be sent ashore among strangers. At length he revived and sat up to be buffeted by a Nubian rascal, as black in his face as in his heart. No one could interfere. This negro boatman pulled him about and struck him in diabolic glee. It made all the blood of my body boil. But this was done without the knowledge of the captain, who would not have allowed it. Quietly and unostentatiously the money for the fare demanded was raised among his co-religionists, almost as poor as himself, and he was permitted to ascend the gangway and resume his way to ASIA AND ITS INHABITANTS. ^5 Jerusalem. How kind these Jews are to each other ; and so far as I know, charitable and hos- pitable to all. " They give and hide the giving hand," and in the end they too will " find that their smallest gift outweighs the burden of the sea or land." Certainly there will be compensation for this "Child of the wandering foot and weary breast, Seeking to flee away and be at rest," within the renowned city of his fathers. Still it is a sign of this bigotry, unmistakably despicable, and which requires heroic correction. If we cannot do otherwise in its correction, in America, we can create a moral sentiment with some emphasis. Let us follow the splendid example of the head of a Polish diocese. How touching and beautiful is the pastoral letter of the Arch- bishop of the Catholic Church at Warsaw, in his protest against the wrongs committed upon the Jews, and his appeal for peace and harmony among all, however differing in creed ! What can exceed in bigoted baseness the Jewish persecutions of these latter days? It is not alone that at Kief, where we stopped. There some two and a half millions of dollars of damages was done to the innocent and unoffending Hebrews. The losses cannot be computed in rubles or dollars. The disquietude of families, the riots and the raids, are just as terrible in Prussia as in Russia. And this is the race that gave us such patriots and scholars, soldiers and composers, philosophers, philanthropists, scientists, and statesmen as Soule, Rotsher, Wecherly, the Herschels, Arago, Spinosa, ,86 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. Mendelssohn, Rossini, Jacobson, Montefiore, Mey- erbeer, Disraeli, Cremieux, and all the bright con- stellation which now irradiates our century. As we rose next morning, the wail of the He- brews and their sad ceremony began. Indeed it had begun the evening before. On Sunday morn- ing we attended church, figuratively, at Laodicea, now known as Latakia. It was the seat of one of the ancient churches. It is a low, sandy beach, in a crescent shape, with a rise of greenery, which consists of olives and palm-trees. There are mosques and an old fort. From the amount of the freight, there must be an industrious people behind the huge, bare masses of mountains. Chickens are brought on board, and sell for three piastres, or twelve cents. At two in the afternoon we are at Tripolis. We have another dinner on deck with the local agents. There is a variety of spicy talk at the table, and plenty to be seen on the shore. The awnings are spread against the sun and the smirch of the smoke-stacks. The Moslem men are devoted to their prayers, while we are at our meal. As night comes on, the old crusader castle looks grim and grand amid its setting of orange, lemon, apricot, and apple trees. There is water here, as the groves testify. There is a penitentiary also, and the officers and soldiers prepare to' land, amid great curiosity, the seven assassins we have brought with us from Constantinople. One of the murder- ers is an old man. He killed his son and daughter. There is a fierce, insane gleam in his eye, and he looks about for an escape by a swim ; but, as they are chained together, that will not do. The soldiers stand over the group, with fingers on the triggers of their guns. ASIA AND ITS INHABITANTS. 187 Our engine whistles for our departure. All the boats are off from our sides, when up rushes, pell- mell, a wild Arab. He has been left ; he makes a howl on the gang-plank ; no one does aught but laugh; I go to him and beckon him to "jump jump big!" He saw a boat of ladies and gen- tlemen leaving the shore for a pleasure ride round us ; and, feeling his way to be safe and clear, he doffed his pants, and, in his rather limited shirt, gave a "header" into the sea. He swam around with his bundle of clothes in his teeth, and amid the consternation of the females of the little boat, he crawled up and in. I sent a mejidia (dollar coin) after him, and received a hurrah ! The mountains here are the upheaval of terrific fires. The gulches and valleys, dressed in orange and palm, are the result of specific gravity and much winter rain. This city, and others of older fame, are but deltas of streams from these mount- ains. These deltas become fruitful under this sun of the East, where in abundance are the flow- ers, fruits, and plants which grow under glass with us. Upon the plateau, as we see them here at this ancient Tripolis, or triple city, is a half mile of olives. These furnish the indispensable oil for the human system. Commerce had here once her splendid ports, among which are Tyre and Sidon, and this city of Tripolis. From these dry mountains and meagre ports, where the rocks, rifts, and runnels, marshes, mead- ows and mounds alternate, went out the swarms of men, for commerce, to Carthage, Cadiz, and London. The performance, as we are about to depart from Tripolis, is a nocturnal tragedy and comedy !88 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. of unusual excitement. It had a variety in its persona, and the scene was the grand mountains of the Lebanon, Captain Thomas being manager, and ever so many costumed groups and races as supernumeraries. A Greek woman had lost an infant. The time had come to bury it in the sea, but with no persuasion would she give it up. She had suckled it upon a dry breast, and it had starved to death. Our Pasha's daughter had been in con- sultation for various remedies, in vain. The little Greek Pericles it had been named must find its final cradle in the blue depths. Looking down, along with Madame Essad, into the gloom of the after-deck, we saw the little white bundle wrested from the arms and breast of the mother. The lan- tern of the first officer lit up the sad picture like that of a Rembrandt. The sweet gray eyes of the young Turkish mother were dim with tears, and even so obdurate a person as myself could not re- frain from weeping. With the murderers sent to their prison on shore, and the wail of the Hebrews children of misery and double exile there came upon the air the strange Arabic prayers of the Cossack Moslems. Slowly they move their heads around as they pray, their eyes looking upward for the Unseen, and placing their hands to their ears as if the all-audient One was listening to their praise of his name and that of his prophet. The Russian Consul-General at Beirut decorated for a hundred benefactions comes upon the scene. He has been up among the cedars of Lebanon, and has ridden' all day down the mountains to meet this vessel. He says to us : " Directly the lights will burst from the Leb- anon ! It is the anniversary of the finding of the MOSLEM AT PRAYER. ASIA AND ITS INHABITANTS. jgg Saviour's body ! The Greek Christians of the Lebanon will thus hail each other by this ' fiery cross,' which will burn in every village for twenty miles around." Soon, as if lit by an electric impulse, the Leb- anon flung out its beacons, and the mountains put on their festal fiery garments for the splendid dis- 1 play ! Before the curtain was dropped upon this scene, with the tumultuous hubbub on board and on the bay, there was much commotion among the many-costumed people on the lower decks. After a thousand boxes of oranges and lemons had been o taken on board and the widow's cruse had been re-illustrated by more and more jars of olive-oil ; after our ship had been packed above and below deck, with cattle, swung on from the lighters by their horns and a derrick ; after five hundred sheep ten at a time, tied by their forelegs had been snugged away, a Babel of sounds Turkish, Persian, Italian, French, Russian, and Arab be- gan ! Roosters crowed and cattle lowed ; sheep bahbahed and pigs squealed. The rattle of the crane and winch add to the hubbub. "// Capitano ! II Capitano / " cries a shrill voice. We are standing with the captain on the upper deck ; the mate is in a fight. The captain, in a Russian brogue, responds to put the man off. He is thrust down the gangway in a twinkling. It was sad to see him. The sun had crazed him. He had no real grievance. He is reconciled and retires, combing his long hair. He is a crazed Greek priest. Arab airs are sung. A rush is made for our deck, to sleep there, as the night is hot. "Guarda! Guarda !" halloos a porter, his back bent under I9 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. loads of chests and carpets. Soda-bottles pop ! "Presto!" (which means "hurry!") cries the cap- tain. Italian begins here, with an Arabic tinge to it. The mate hurries the tardy work. Germans come on board, and grasp each other for "faderland." Our mate is hoarse with announcing orders, and at length, by the skill and command of our Irish captain, we are under weigh. The lights along the Lebanon go out. The solitary palm-tree on a sol- itary rock of the harbor an old landmark is lost to view. Roars of fun and the hurling of melon rinds occupy the jocose Arab boys. The mount- ains of Lebanon fade into the night, Jupiter dom- inates the sky, the Dipper bends its graces over the arch, and we retire to wake up in the harbor of Beirut I We leave the steamer in the morning, and are ensconced in the hotel on the cliffs, surrounded by an amphitheatre of beauty. The captain calls upon us in the afternoon. " Ah ! will you look at us as we go out this even- ing ! I shall send up some rockets ! You have been with us from Russia down, and our folks dislike to see you leave." I reply : " We have not loved Russia, nor liked its government ; but you have made its flag a com- fort. It is because you are "An Irishman !" he exclaimed. " Yes ! we have more Irishmen in New York than you have in Dublin ; and whether it be the old capital, Moscow, or the other great capital, Constantinople, I feel like singing an Irish song, written by a reverend Irishman." " I guess it," he exclaimed ; " Father Prout ?" Yes ; and this is the verse. It was in my mind ASIA AND ITS INHABITANTS. 191 as I saw the Muscovite and Turkish capitals, with all their external signs, symbols, and beauties : " There's a bell in Moscow, While on tower and kiosk, oh ! In St. Sophia The Turkman gets, And loud in air Calls men to prayer, From the tapering summit Of tall minarets I freely grant them ; But there's an anthem, More clear to me ; 'Tis the bells ot Shandon , That sound so grand on The pleasant waters Of the River Lee ! " "Good-by!" he exclaimed; "look out for the rockets," and he dashed down from the balcony. His boat was soon moving over the blue waves out of the harbor of Beirut. Lifting our glasses for we had been drinking from his own Crimean wines sent us in the morn- ing we gave him a stirrup cup. Night came, but no rockets. Celtic-like, in the absence of the rocket, he put a sailor in the mast to shake a lantern, as a signal of farewell, until the night closed over his vessel, bound to Egypt ! CHAPTER XV. CITY OF SMYRNA WATERS OF POESY AND MYTHOLOGY- ILL-FATED CHIOS. avrv, . PLATO ON THE BEAUTIFUL. FROM the Hotel des Deux Auguste, situated upon the quay at Smyrna, we start on two expeditions, one to Ephesus and the other to Chios and the isles of Greece. There is much to see here which has association in ancient Greek liter- ature, Roman history, and modern Greek heroism. Each, of these isles, including the peninsular points upon the Asiatic coast, has gems of mem- ory whole strings of pearls of thoughts. In fact, they are an epos ; they make the epic of all time. It is difficult to believe, as I look out upon these waters of poesy and mythology, as dim and beau- teous in their remote veil of fable as in their blue scarf of beauty, that so much of human belief was here concentrated into forms that never die. Po- etry, sculpture, painting, architecture, every art and every artist from Homer to Apelles, whose birth- places we see at every angle and under every sky, here had their impersonification and apotheosis. What a civilization that of the Greeks must have been! It lacked only one thing. It was unsancti- fied in the highest sense. It may be that Egypt was but the dowager-widow of the antediluvian knowl- 192 WATERS OF POESY AND MYTHOLOGY. 193 edge ; but it must be confessed she was choice in her pupils, and Greece was her favorite. If Egypt reflects the Eastern and Hebraic thought, she was quick to cast that reflection upon Greece, and thence to the Scandinavian realm, where the poets of Iceland reproduced Eastern poetry, and to the Irish isle, whose bards bear a family resemblance to Persian poets. Moving along the Mediterra- nean, the children of Greece " entwined the myrtle of Gnidus with the mistletoe of Gaul. Provence echoed the Lesbian lute and Teian lyre, and the Druids hailed with the hand of fellowship the priests of Jove and Apollo." I have spoken of our trip on the Russian ves- sel. We have had a perpetual feast on board ; not grapes, melons, and Crimean wines, but the Cork captain. There are four hundred passengers, of all nations. We two and the captain speak English, barring its Irish ; but the Turkish men and women have dropped their exclusiveness, and those of us in the cabin are at one, and at home, with each other, in spite of different languages, prayers, man- ners,' and yashmaks ! How Smyrna has changed ! Instead of the rough, open roadstead which we had for landing when here before, was a smooth bay and a nice mole. Along the front of the city, two miles or more, runs a stone quay. This is washed by wild waves. In the harbor, where even after the Cri- mean war an Englishman became bankrupt by trying the experiment of a steamboat, there are now eight ferry steamers all making money, and not enough accommodation for the people. Smyrna has one hundred and eighty thousand. She is rich inside and outside rich in a clever cosmopolitan I94 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. and composite people. It is a varied people, and of great independence and energy. Although under Turkish rule, it is still a Greek city. Although full of the freedom of trade, the life of which is security, Smyrna has had feeble protection from brig- ands outside and robbers within. Not until the now banished Midhat Pasha became governor ; not until he had arrested some one hundred and fifty rogues and took their photographs, and made them give leg bail or otherwise, did the Smyrniotes have any adequate security for purse or person. Now that Midhat has been exiled into Arabia, and a good-natured Pasha rules, it is said that the old insecurity returns. However, we only give rumors, for our experience was not disastrous.* Thirty years ago, when we went on shore here, all damp with the waves, we were told not to ven- ture far in the streets, and especially not upon the castellated mountain above; for then the brigands had accomplices even in the city, who whisked peo- ple away to their caves. Our former experience of Smyrna was therefore limited to the cafes on the shore. Now Smyrna has a railroad and tramway. We had a note of introduction to its president, Mr. Purser, from a London friend. We tried his railroad, the Smyrna and Aidin Railroad, on our way to Ephesus. What we saw there, and how un- like the experience of Paul and Timothy, Eunice and Priscilla, to say nothing of Diana and Alex- ander the coppersmith, may be hereafter written. It is a day not to be written currcnte calamo. On * This remark must be qualified. Since it was written. Emir Pasha, the Vali of Smyrna, has effectually put down brigandage. The census of decap- itated heads which he has sent to Stamboul has given him the name of the Iron Vali. Nor does he spare the official confederates of the brigands. WATERS OF POESY AND MYTHOLOGY. 195 our return we found Mr. Purser at his beautiful home near the station, and after a tea in his gar- den, which overlooks the gulf, we took a tramway for the hotel. Our Irish captain came on shore to join us at dinner. After looking from the balconies at the people many-hued and many-tongued thronging up and down the quay, we retired to bed for the last land-rest this side of Beirut ; that is, if the earthquake has not destroyed Chios, for on Chios we hope at least to place an uncertain foot ! The next morning we steamed out of Smyrna harbor. The city is almost inland. Its gulf is sur- rounded by rocky mountains, meagre of cultivation. They seem made of nebulous matter. On the south shore at the foot of the mountains are rich olive grounds, cemeteries, baths, villas, and ruins.- Ruins all through here earthquake ruins. On the north we perceive pyramids in piles like snow. They are salt. It is made by the sun from the low and lately- flooded lowlands. Fisheries are on either side, in the shallow waters, while golden plains of reaped wheat-fields are seen upon the rich delta of the ancient Hermes river. Our vessel pursues the channel out of the gulf which is limited. You cannot see the melon grounds, vineyards, olive or- chards, and orange-trees from the vessel. The bleak mountains which bind the sea give no prom- ise of the fruitful inland. We pass near Chustan Island, where the other day there was a shake-up that was both fearful and destructive. In fact, all these shores and isles, including Smyrna itself, and doubtless Ephesus, by its sorry look, have had their little turn at an earthquake or so. Then we boldly push for the Karabournon peninsula. We round its magnificent, dreamy mountain-heights, making 196 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. for suffering Chios, the scene of the great earth- quake of last spring, the argumentum ad miscricor- diam of all time. "Do you see these two splendid peaks?" asks the captain, as he opens the chart and points to the " Two Sisters." " Their guardians near are the 'Three Brothers ! ' Notice how the pilot steers by them ! That point yonder will be in line with the depression between the two ! " So it is. We pass fishermen in their boats, with painted sails. How queerly they seem, far off here these Levantine fishers with their churches and saints painted in red upon their sails, as if bent on a sainted gala day ! "We will soon see Chios," says the captain. "When I went there, just after the earthquake, it was rumored in Constantinople that our vessel was lost, as the fire had shoved up some of the dirty bottom, and my steamer had gone upon the newly- made volcanic rocks. Ah ! didn't I feel my way neatly with the lead, when we sailed into the uncer- tain harbor. When I landed, ah ! what a stench of dead bodies ! Cologne and ammonia were of no use. One-third of the bodies remained under the ruins. But we will see ! I will go on shore with you and your wife ; for we will stay in the harbor for some hours. We have plenty of charitable lum- ber to land for the poor folks, who are rebuilding the waste places ! God help them ! " At last, at two in the afternoon, Chios, the ill- starred, is in sight. As if she had not glory enough in giving birth to "the blind old. man of Scio's rocky isle," she must add to the great epic a fiery ordeal and tragedy. The isle is only about the size of a New York county, thirty-two by eighteen miles, WATERS OF POESY AND MYTHOLOGY. 197 but It is big with renown ! Cut off by a narrow strait from Asia, it looms upon the vision in three- fold mountainous magnificence. As we near it a breeze blows down the strait from the north-west. How do I ascertain this point of the compass? Not alone by the red, blue, and white Russian en- sign, whose double eagle dallies with the wind and scorns the sun ; not from the white plumes which shine upon the cloven helmet of the wave, but from the dozen Moslems on the deck, who, with unfail- ing piety, turn, by starlight or sunlight, toward Mecca, and " compass " our thought. One of these Moslems is a soldier, three are Caucasians, one an I man, or priest, and all are pilgrims bound to Mecca. As Chios is more clearly sighted, one of this number calls to prayers ! It is the Moolah. How strange and audacious his call, on this steamer of civilization ! Soon the carpets are upon the deck, and the genuflections and mono- tones of the pilgrims begin. Ending their prayers with a splendid climax, and then pulling on their slippers, they, too, fake a curious look at the cele- brated and ill-fated island. This isle is known to the Mohammedans, not for its wine, for they are abstinent ; not for its figs, for other places are more prolific ; not for its silk, for silken Broussa outvies all these isles ; but for its mastic, the product of the lentisk tree, which, when incised, drops its gum about the middle of August. When refined, it is used by the Levantine females, who are too languid to knit like Penelope, but not too lazy to chew. It is to the female what tobacco is to our sex. It also makes liquor. This gum was the chief source of revenue to the mother of the Sultan, and the isle is said to have had some 198 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. political and other advantages by reason of this peculiar product. As we draw nearer to this isle, I look about to see the terrible work of the earthquake. What a catastrophe for ever so little a tremble ! Looking away to the east for a moment, the mainland appears a rocky reach of high, clear-lined mountains. They are streaked with dark lines and vales. Beyond and above Scio the shade and sunlight alternate, and at the base of the mountains there are flat, green spots, deltas of mountain streams. A few villages are scattered along. The city of Castro itself, which once contained thirty thousand people, was the cap- ital of the island when it had one hundred and ten thousand. This was before the Greek revolution of 1822. It now looks like a shriveled, twisted skeleton. Its very sea-walls give token of its shat- tered condition. As we approach still nearer, we perceive a hundred vessels in the harbor, if it may be called one by courtesy. The mountains above now seem topped by palisades, and still above them, and remote, are other dreamy Grecian mountains, full of myths and with little specks of green, where dryads and olives, and Pan and Nature once lurked. The sea never looked so blue in its bonnets of white. The ragged sea-walls give a still more des- olate look to the harbor, to which the demolished castle adds its sad aspect. The city looks like a disordered body holding a crazy mind. There are trees amidst the ruins. They give even to the deso- lation a sort of sylvan Grecian beauty ; for trees are now rare on these denuded Grecian isles. Now, as we come still nearer, the waves are seen to make cascades over and channels through the broken mole. Some windmills fly their sails on the lowest WATERS OF POESY AND MYTHOLOGY. 199 lands. A few other sails on the steadier element the sea ply their winged work in front of the harbor. We are now in the ruined city of Chios. Before we left our ship the captain promised to go on shore with us. But he says that it is too risky, as this is an open roadstead and there is a fresh wind. " There maybe a sudden blast," he says, " from the cave of /Eolus, and I could not, in such a case, for love or money, get a boat from the shore to the ship." If we would risk it, he would see madam safely down the gangway. The truth was, that the boats which were dancing their highest flings about us, and whose oarsmen were vending their mastic about us and on board, were too small ; and their men were not able to speak either English, French,* or Irish! The captain was equal to the occasion, and when the agent of the Russian line came on board, he arranged it so that we went with the agent. As we left, our steward, Sim- eon, cried out, "Belle promenade /" and we dancedi shoreward. We called back, "Au fevoir;" but we left the ship with some misgivings. The agent at length found us a Greek who spoke English. He is one of the committee who have the funds in charge for the poor and houseless people. We found him exceedingly courteous and useful. Un- der his guidance we threaded the ruins and escaped the dangerous places, where the walls yet hang by a brick or a stone, awaiting a fresh shudder of Mother Earth. As we reached the landing we perceived wooden sheds for market-places and eat- ing-houses, and some five hundred people eating, moving about, and chattering as none but Greeks jabber. They seemed to act as if the isle were fast 200 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. anchored, and that there would be no more om- inous "strange noises;" although only two weeks ago another terrible shock tumbled down many of the remaining buildings, and only last night there was another slight shock, which awakened my wife in Smyrna, so that she arose and reeled about to the window in her bewilderment to see what was up whether Ephesus, or Paul, or Eunice, or Diana, or Timothy, or "a call of the House" in Washington ! We move amidst the eager crowds. They are in the Greek costume. We are not reminded of Homer or his heroes, but we are reminded of the old contest of 1822, '23, and '24 against Turkey, and of the destruction of this Hellenic people in that era of diabolism, when twenty-five thousand Sciotes were massacred, and forty thousand were sent into horrible slavery worse than death ; for the trumpets sound from the dismantled castle and barracks, and the Turkish soldier appears on guard amidst the ruins ! That splendid building yonder, as yet but partially in ruins, is another reminder. Near is a minaret, and we know its owner to be Turkish ; and to be a Turk here, is to be a monster worse than the earthquake or the plagues. These patriotic trials, fifty years or more ago, were more devastating than the catastrophe of God ! Of the one hundred and ten thousand who peopled this island in 1822 after the war was ended by the del- uge of blood there were but two thousand Greeks left on the isle, and only fifteen thousand escaped into exile ! Dearly, however, did the Turks pay for their cruelty ; for one dash of courage of the olden tiite when Leonidas lived, came to the res- cue, when Canaris and his little crew of thirty-three WATERS OF POESY AND MYTHOLOGY. 2 oi destroyed by a fire-ship the large Turkish vessel at Chios, with its two thousand Turks, who perished by flame and water! So that this Homeric isle has had its wild history, compared with which the calam- ity of the 22d of March last is insignificant. Yet even then there were seven thousand lives lost, and as many more injured. This is ascertained, although there is much exaggeration, and considerable doubt as to how many yet lie under the debris. We wan- dered over broken bricks, stones, and timbers for an hour or more. Some of the houses yet stand, with their gaps and cracks, unfit for residence. Others have their foundations turned up by the vol- canic forces, and their walls lean perilously against other walls, in grim disorder. The " Court-house" was tumbled to pieces. It was a large building of two stories. Upon the ruins, and regardless of old boundary lines, shanties are being built of wood, and some better houses of sun-dried brick and frames, all low and one-storied. Donkeys and mules are carrying in their panniers fresh materials. Masons and carpenters are sweating in the sun, for the people must have shelter before winter. The old wooden structures were saved. A few Greek priests, in their black robes, and tall, rimless, black hats, are moving about ; while strange orien- tal faces, with huge, black, sad eyes, and brown faces, peep from window and door at us under our um- brellas, as we survey the ruins. There are manytents on the grounds. They remind me of the day after the fire I once saw at Truckee, on the top of the Sierras. Everything seems improvised. There are signs of life, however, quite usual. Pigeons flutter in the ruins, birds carol, ducks squawk, hens cluck, and roosters crow, cats move about noise- 2O2 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. lessly and mew a little, as if fearful of something, and donkeys are heard from ! I ask the guide, Chooralos, "Did the animals make any outcry when the earthquake gave its pre- monition, or afterward ? " "You should," he said, "have heard them sound their songs of despair. It was at one o'clock in the daytime when the shocks began. The shocks made a noise a whirring noise, and the upheaval was followed by a horizontal motion ; but come with me to the monastery. There the worst is seen ! " So we followed Chooralos up the winding way amidst the rubbish and clutter, the lime, logs, and stone, to St. Felici's. This was a Capuchin Cath- olic monastery. It suffered terribly. On the threshold, if threshold it may be called where noth- ing of form and only chaos was distinguishable, we are met by a priest of the Capuchin order. He looked odd and good. Over his cap he had an old straw hat with a splendid brim, and under that a brunette face that beamed with goodness. He was Italian. When we were introduced as Americans he seemed to think we were friends. He is and Avas the head of the order here. His monastery is in ruins. He is loth to leave it. No wonder. It \vas but a few months ago a delight, in a physical as well as in a spiritual sense. Now, although the monastery is in ruins, there are the almond-trees, tho grape-vines, the oranges, the olives, and other lovely shades and greeneries remaining. Father Antonio could not cannot leave them. The don- key is still pumping water with a creaking wheel from the wells to feed the trees with moisture. The old clock, which stopped with the shock, now WATERS OF POESY AND MYTHOLOGY. 203 goes on as before. The cisterns remain, but " they hold no water." Dust and lime, stones and brick through them, piles on piles, we wind our sad way till the good father takes us down into the dis- mantled church. Here his vivacity gives way. What a picture is this once exquisite chapel ! The pulpit is now broken and the walls rent. The blue ceiling, with its golden stars, a pretty mockery of the yEgean nocturnal heaven, is twisted and cracked ; the hands above the altar, once folded below the sacred cross, are all awry ; but the spirit is still there, for there was the good Antonio still min- istering ! The pieces of the altar were rescued and removed to his own little room, which he showed us. " See my bed ! " he said, as he pointed to an old cupboard, which he had used to sleep in out of doors during the continuance of the shocks. "Are you not still apprehensive?" I inquired. " No, for the engineer says that I can remain here now in safety." "What engineer is thus authorized ?" I asked. The question gave him pause ; and I pointed to the motto above his broken altar, whose broken stone, lath, and plaster were all too apparent. " Coronati Triumpha ! " He smiled sadly as he repeated it in soft Italian. He went out of his lit- tle room, amidst the ruins, and bid us wait a mo- ment, for he would like us to take a drop of mastic or lemonade with him. This we did, and, leaving a little gold to help him with the poor and destitute, we bid him a sad good-by. Then we wended our way amidst the ruins to the top of the tower so as to overlook the disaster. It was sad, sad, sad enough. Over one hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling, they say, have been 204 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. raised to rebuild and resuscitate. It is but feeble help. However, it shows sympathy. The steamer whistles us aboard. We go to the hospitals, and thence through a part of the city which seems at first look to be inhabited. I lift the knocker of one of the beautiful houses upon a street whose mosaic of white and black pebbles is as elegant as a Pompeii pavement, and as clean as that of a Dutch town. An empty echo is all that we hear. Not a soul on this long, pretty street of fashion and wealth all deserted ! Then we go down to the barracks. The oleander trees are blushing with flowers. We would pluck a flower or so. A Turkish bayonet says " no," and we retreat to the quay. But our boat does not come from the ship. We hire one. I take the helm. The madam is not certain of my maritime prowess and skill. I may not sleep, like Palinurus, but I may rush on the broken walls, or there may be sunken reefs or lifted rocks in this uncertain land and sea. The sea runs wild and high. We are not alarmed. Have we not been to the North Cape ? We are perceived by the captain at last, as we are dancing away from the earthquake-rocked shores, on a very uncertain blue water. We are on board. " Thank God ! " I said, as I had said before when we came safely out of other perils. We may still live to see Jerusalem ! The mastic we bought is packed in the little classic jars as souvenirs of this Homeric and quaking isle ; the breeze blows more briskly from the north, and our steamer speeds on, till a beautiful red and golden canopy covers us at even- ing between Nicavia and Samos, and sleep comes to us, as a great relief from a sad observation and a vivid experience. WATERS OF POESY AND MYTHOLOGY. 205 Since leaving Chios the market for real estate has not steadied. The isle is sinking. Hot springs are appearing. One result upon which the Grecian world is to be congratulated will be that the seduc- tive liquor of the isle, raki, will be no more. The Eastern epicure will regret, but the temperance societies of the Orient will rejoice. The isle of Homer may not last. Homer will. CHAPTER XVI. AN EPHESIAN DAY. Where is thy sacred fane, proud Ephesus ! Raised to the honor of Latona's child? Like as the ship by stormy billows riv'n, Sinks in the vortex of the whirling wave y So the bright emblem of Ionia's state Shall sink, confounded, in the mighty deep ! SIBYL, Orac.,Lib. v. v., 293-305. EOTH EN, whose volume about the East was quite the fashion a quarter of a century ago, dismisses the "Ruins of Baalbec"in a half dozen lines. He preferred that his readers should hold fast to their own dim meaning of the glorious sounds and airy phantasies which gather about those ruins. He disdained to give tall columns and their measurements in phrases built of ink. It is with some such vague and solemn thoughts that I have been occupied about the ruins of Ephesus. It has been impossible to settle down even to the inci- dents of the eventful day, so as to describe them for the gratification and information of friends. Other adventures have intervened an earthquake or so ; a dozen isles of Greece upshouldering their rocky crests into a sky of light and heat, and full of vague poesies and dim thoughts of yore and lore ; and the beautiful, untainted azure of this y^gean Sea of marvels, not to speak of groves ten- anted by old religions, and strange, calm men of 206 AN EPHESIAN DA Y. 207 the East, and strange muffled women, who follow them so tranquilly; but these interventions are only those of time, and the thought will wreak itself even in imperfect expression. A day in Ephesus ! Ah ! could we but revert to the elder day of this prime city of Grecian art, Roman power, and apostolic eloquence what a day it woTild be ! Instead of a population of twelve camels and three persons, and four visitors, two from the Great Republic, " further west " than the " isles of the blest " of Grecian sires what a day could have been passed two thousand years ago at Ephesus! In gymnasium, odeon, theatre, shop, palace, courts, and temples, what a throng of living wonders ! How many people among them then ? and now but a few camels and their drivers, and one " solitary horseman " besides ourselves, tramping under a fiery sun, through tangled grasses and prickly weeds, over broken columns and pul- verized remains, down to a now waterless bay, with an extinct custom-house and an exchange where no voice is heard save that of a solitary sweet-throated bird! Looking down the departed centuries, and into the excavated pits where the skeleton of the great temple lies in its mutilated shroud of dust, what a crowd of bewildering thoughts arise ! This, in short, is the impression of that city whose praises are the theme of classic history, and where the great Apostle of the Gentiles made his tribune for two years, and made even the smiths, ever a numerous tribe of skilled handicraft, led by Demetrius, forget their cunning and cry out for their imperiled business. It is hard to believe that the fresh blue waves of this sea ever washed the suburb of the grand old 2 o8 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. city. It is hard to believe that its now shoreless plain was once an inlet of liquid beauty, picturing- at evening the twin mountains which made double the Ephesian acropolis; for now the plain is but a gloomy shore, and the disjecta membra of these stadia, theatres, and temples have not even the honor of the ivy, nor have its arched aqueducts any longer the glory of the sparkling stream, nor its lone pillars the elder haughtiness of imperial greatness ! These thoughts are too dim for translation into English. The American reader will demand the measurements of the Temple of Diana, and the number of seats of the theatre into which the silver- smiths rushed to raise a riot against the great ora- tor from Tarsus, and the very number matriculated in the " school of one Tyrannus," where the Apos- tle disputed daily of immortality and salvation through his Great Master of Nazareth. Must I, then, begin with our journey in its de- tails ? And must the Turk in his turban the present degenerate keeper of these relics of old sit, as usual, for his photograph ? Yes. There is no other way to bring Ephesus and the Ephesians home to our people. It has been one of our special hopes, in our long journey, to follow " the Acts of the Apostles " in their movements along these highways and shores ; and, coming into Smyrna (one of the seven churches\ and hearing of Philadelphia, Sardis, Lao- dicea, and other lamps of the early faith, as if quite near to our very feet, it would have been a remedi- less hiatus had we not sought out, at some risk, at least, the ruins of one of the scenes of the holiest of religions. AN EPHESIAN DA Y. 209 It is St. Paul's second missionary route that we follow, with some observations, physical and other- wise. After leaving Corinth he sailed into Syria. He visited Ephesus ; then he went to Caesarea ; and thence to Jerusalem. After that he proceeded to Antioch. But much of his missionary work was here at Ephesus. It was then full of Jews, and quite Oriental. The people listened to him there for two years. He warned them without ceasing, and with tears. The seven churches received from him here comfort and ministration. He worked miracles at Ephesus, and rebuked sorcery and idol- atry. The mystic Ephesian letters lost their magic, and the Word grew mightily. Johannine disciples were numerous. They were enlightened and bap- tized with the Holy Ghost. But these successes did not prevent the uproar in the theatre. The bears got the advantage, and silver shrines fell in the market. A mob was the result. It is the old story : Greed versus Goodness. As I look back on this day of delight, I wonder that I undertook it. True, our friend the presi- dent of the railroad had advised that the trip was safe and healthy ; but we were early in the season, the heat was still intense, the Syrian fever still dan- gerous, and, as there was no police yet organized for the vicinity, it was perilous in another way, which was not to be forgotten by one having re- gard to another's safety. Brigands are not the creatures of romantic fancy in and around Smyrna, or in the waste places of the coast and mountain. Within a few weeks captives have been made and ransom money demanded. Our lady friend from Troy, on the steamer, had a brother seized upon his farm (to his cost $7,500) ; and what would be the 210 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. ransom for a live congressman, to say nothing of his precious wife and that, too, at a time when parties are so nearly divided, and one vote, how- ever humble, is worth so much ! However, we made our provision, through the aid of an honest dragoman, a Hebrew, Ibrahim by name. He met us on the steamer at six in the morning, and at once we were under his care ashore, a breakfast served, a lunch arranged, and by nine o'clock we were at the depot, via a tramway, and ready for Ephesus. This railway is built by English capital and skill. It runs near the old city, and beyond it into and through a country of surprising richness and devel- opment for Asia. Quite a load of passengers, two- thirds in loose clothes and turbans, started with us. We wound up out of the town, under the shadow of Mount Tagus, upon which there is a splendid Genoese castle, in partial ruins. We pass, upon our upward way, through the valley of a mountain river, the Maries. Its waters are used for irriga- tion on its downward way, and for the city thirst. The cypress stands in tall array about elegant cem- eteries, and over walls we perceive mulberries, olives, and figs. We stop at the camel caravan ctation for a time, where we observe these patient ships of the desert loading and unloading. " What is it that those black horse-hair sacks contain?" we inquire of Ibrahim. " Figs. Figs to be cured and packed and sent over the world." These sacks are in such numbers as to excite attention above all other products at least, now, when the crop is arriving. It is an unusual crop 180,000 of these sacks, worth $15 each; nearly AN EP HE SI AN DAY. 21 1 double the crop of the previous year, as we are told. This railroad runs into and near, but not through or beyond, the great fig-land of Asia. Be- yond Aidin the orchards just begin, and the work of the camel is there still indispensable. Dryness and sandy soil help the fig ; and this garden of Asia Minor lies along the meandering Meander, which has a history and a philology of more interest than its thousands of sacks of figs. The railroad is yet to be run into this dale of beauty and plenty. There is one impediment. Its president tells me that the Arabs have an irrepressible impulse to throw stones into the cars and to place them on the track ; not so much out of malice or opposition to the advancement of our locomotive age by steam, as curiosity to see some astounding results. It is their mode of acquiring intelligence. Still, with a growing commerce of imports and exports, now amounting to near a hundred millions of dollars in Smyrna, it is not to be expected that a few Arabs can get rid of advancing instrumentalities by throw- ing stones. As we rise upon the heights above Smyrna, camels are seen in motion and at rest. It is curious to see their motions when they sit down. They make as .many motions as a new member of Congress before he is sat upon. Some of them look cross in being loaded, and make ugly motions with head and neck, and show their pretty teeth. Along the roaa we see small huts, covered with straw ; and in the melon-patches and vineyards improvised booths, under branches, where the watchful owners repose. The grapes are nearly all white and very sweet. They lack the size and flavor of the Chousa of Constantinople, which the honey-bees feed upon 2I2 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. and follow from their hillsides along Marmora to the city stalls. Still, these grapes are grapes of the sun, and Smyrna is surrounded by their yellowish green fields, which are in beautiful contrast with the dark, silvery, bluish-green of the olives. As we pass along the trains of cars coming into Smyrna, we perceive the turbaned Turks, whose labor makes this part of Asia so fruitful, serenely sitting on the Slack sacks, smoking their cigarettes and guarding their property. Could the youngster at home, whose nether lip and saccharine tooth liquefy at the thought of these figs of the Orient, but see the tur- baned, wild, and picturesque Moslem to whom he owes this luxury, he might add to his delectation a study in art and ethnology. Looking around from our car, we perceive the ranges of mountains, hid- ing, like the women of the land, their beauties under a misty veil. Nearer by in the fields are herds of black goats and big-tailed sheep. The houses are made of mud bricks, and are low, for has not Smyrna once trembled under the tread of En- celadus ? It is easy to see why Smyrna now re- joices. It is not sun or soil ; but these waters, which now, even in this heated term, have their small stream to make glad the earth. " What," you ask, " are these black objects by the dozen, in groups and scattered over the plains almost villages of them ? " These are the dirty tents of the Turcoman. He is the nomad of this vast empire of unrest, over which, from the Chinese" Wall to the Mediterranean, these herders wander, with their families and flocks. We see them upon the railroad side, gazing at the cars as if dazed at their movement. They look independent and happy. They have local government and rules of their own AN EPHESIAN DAY. 213 'and are contented. The suzerainty of the Sultan troubles them little. Their Abrahamic ways are exceedingly paternal in the best sense of home rule. It would astonish the souls of some of my old Ohio constituents to see how much sorghum these old plains raise ; nor am I altogether sure that even the Scioto Valley could compare with this ancient historic dirt in making maize. Perhaps there is less of these staples here, because cotton, madder, grapes, pomegranates, figs, and melons pay better; for these products are only limited by the labor of the people. This labor is performed by both sexes, in field and hut. Stopping at a water-station we perceive, lying on the bare-swept ground, spread quite thin, plenty of grapes, being laid out to dry in the sun, for the black raisin, which is seedless, and for which Smyrna is celebrated. The grain-fields have been harvested, and the fires are already burning up the rubbish, weeds, and shrubbery, rolling along with their clouds of flame and smoke over distant and near plains. Dusty clouds also appear in the fields, where are collected groups of horses and men, threshing. This is lively work, for twenty horses are rushing about in a circus of genuine utility, while the breeze blows away the chaff and dust of the grain. On our way we have occasion to applaud the in- dustry of these Turks, who raise grain and figs, grapes and madder, olives and oranges. We no- tice them and their women in the ploughed fields, breaking the hard-baked clods with their double- pronged hoes. Some of the fields (even those where the black tents of the Turcomans are) have dried branches for hedges, as if the real property were divided and segregated. 2I4 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. There is much to be seen along this route, if one could spend a week or so in the survey. What with rock cuttings and the Cave of Homer (for Smyrna also claimed him), the convent of the prophet Elias, the old aqueduct, the beautiful resort at "Boujah, where mosques and gardens vie with Grseco-Roman remains " Paradise " is here and near, both great and small ; for such are the pre- tentious names of these villas of delight in the heats of summer. Was it not here, among the cretaceous formations, where Mark Twain found the energetic oyster (I mean his remains), indicat- ing to the scientific mind that at some era that de- licious bivalve had added its flavor to this " Para- dise" of grapes, melons, figs, and silks? He wondered how it had gotten up from its saline home below to this elevated spot. He forgot that even the oyster may seek for Paradise ; and, al- though his sense of enjoymenjt may be small, yet he has a source of joy in giving pleasure to others. We pass into plains, and amidst mountains, and through villages, where we are greeted by sights of camels, old and young ; and by the 'old and young who, the world over, come out to see the movements of the outside world. There is occasionally seen a shepherd with his reed flute and pastoral crook. Strange people are seen, especially at Tourbali, thirty miles out men of high turbans, colored and twisted like the pillars and domes of St. Basil's Church, in the Kremlin, at Moscow. Granite peaks appear, and evidences of winter floods over plains and in valleys ; and inundations which destroyed bridges and track, but left fructified fields. What a view one might have from that moun- tain on our left. Besides, it bears evidence of once AN EPHESIAN DAY. 2I5 being a stronghold. It is capped by a castle, which is so high that it seems very small. It is "Goats' Castle." It has its story. It was the defense of the tribes hereabout against the Ottoman Sultans. A shrewd native captain frightened its occupants away by putting lamps on goats and sending them up the high steep a mighty host, with which it was vain to contend ! We are getting close to Ephesus. The path narrows. This is one of the gateways of history, as are all narrow mountain gaps. Alexander the Great (where did he not go on his conquering raids in the East ?) here followed the paths of many for- mer heroes. Here, too, are the ruins of cities made out of the ruined marbles of Ephesus. Some fool- ish people also locate, at a niche hereabouts, a mi- raculous dash of St. Paul's sword into the mountain side. It is said that, when he resided at Ephesus, he came out here to try its temper, and made this cave at a stroke. If this cave were alone and pecu- liar, we might give to it some little story of some prophet, saint, or king ; but, the mountain being of limestone, the cave does not call for any super- natural exertion. " The next station is yours ! " says the conduc- tor, to our inquiry. Our heads are thrust -out of the car, to get a first view of the famous locality ; for our Ephesus is not the station -of that name, but it is near by, and, as we near Ayaslook river, there leaps into our eager eye a splendid mount- ain, decorated by an immense Saracenic castle. This, under other circumstances, and if it were safe from brigands, would make an attraction for excur- sion of itself; but this is only the Moslem vestibule to the old Grseco-Roman-Christian temple of the 2I g FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. first century. The cunning hands of nameless builders have sanctified this soil with relics. The very art which graced and lifted these once grand and now despoiled structures, mingles with the mon- uments they reared. A desert world surrounds us. Only one symbol of the new order is here ! It is the locomotive. Very strange it seems amidst smitten temples and cities. The goblin of steam seems but " a dream half told," working its way into a land which Herodotus eulogized for its sa- lubrity, toward a buried city, whose magnificence was the glory of the ancient world. At length we reach the depot. A few people, in Eastern clothes, are seen in this feverish place. There is also a tavern. There is said to be near by, a Christian village, made up of descendants of the Greek Christians ; but we saw but one person who looked like a Christian. He was a fine-looking, dark-eyed man (agent of the road), a Greek, who tendered us his services until he saw Ibrahim emerge from a "second-class" car, with his provis- ions. The day is hot. The camels are lying about at rest. It is high noon. We prepare for the trip. We look around and above for auspicious omens, as there is no certainty of our ever coming back from Ephesus, unless bought with a price. Nat- urally the flight of birds in the East is remem- bered ; and there, sure enough, swinging in splendid gyrations about the Saracenic battlements above, are two eagles. Evidently they are typical of our native land, not to mention ourselves. How splen- didly, as they circle, they seem to rest on the easy bosom of the air, a picture of lofty tranquillity above the ills, ruins, and breezes below. They give courage, especially as some of their flights AN EPHESIAN DA Y. 217 seem as cheerful as those of swallows before a shower. The worst may happen ; but what is the worst ? Heaven is just as near to us from the old prison of St. Paul, on yonder crag, as in the New World, about which neither his great teacher Ga- maliel nor himself ever dreamed. Boldly we mount our horses, Ibrahim and myself, and to my wife is assigned a lively mule. The saddles are of a lofty wooden kind. Heavy rope halters burden the necks of the animals, who find them less cumber- some than the heat. We pass under the arches of the ancient aque- duct. It is in good preservation and not far from the railroad depot. Its picture is presented. With- out wasting a glance at the ruined mosques and minarets, which have for us here, and now, no allure- ment, it would be well to give, -in a few sentences, something of that salience which makes Ephesus in its habiliments of decay leap out of history as one of the most interesting- ruins of the world. CHAPTER XVII. EPHESUS HER DIVINITIES AND HER DIVINITY. The Empress of Ionia, renowned Ephesus, famous for war and learning. GREEK ANTHOLOGY, iv., 20. WE reach the suburbs of old Ephesus, and only halt to take a few breaths of inspiration. The reader of chapters xviii., xix., and xx. of the Acts of the Apostles desires no introduction to this favorite city of St. Paul. As an apostolic and Christian home it is better known than as a great capital and the site of the great pagan shrine. Ephesus, in space, is or was situated on the Gulf of Scala Nova, and also south of the Caystrus River. It is now in, near, or over a very hot place. The caloric is mostly from below. A grand labora- tory has been at work from the earliest times among these coasts of Greece. The recent evidences of its labors we saw, the other day, at Chios, and the cumulative, or, rather, tumulative, evidences of which are found from Smyrna to Constantinople, and from Athens to Adalia. Ephesus would not be quite such a pulverization but for the volcanic fires. Perhaps but for them the sea would still be laving its old walls and cheering its gloom. From the top of Mount Coressus, which was once a part of the city, could be seen the island of Chios and the promontory of Karaboumon, on the northwest ; and on the south-west, set in the blue ^Egean, the 218 EPHESUSHER DIVINITIES AND PIER DIVINITY. 2I p isle of Samos, and perhaps a dozen others, includ- ing Patmos and Scio. I doubt not that from the top seats of the great theatre, into which, with one accord, the people rushed, with Paul's companions in custody, the galleys of the Roman and Greek emperors could be seen going from or entering the bay to Ephesus. Ephesus, in time, may have had more vicissi- tudes than she has had in space ; but she took up a good deal of space once. From the time of Alexander the Great to the age of Cicero and Caesar, its greatness rose and culminated. There is no way of ascertaining its population. It had no census bureau, whose records have been found ; but, judging even by its vaults, where the super- structures are no more ; by the size of the gymna- sium and theatre ; by the magnitude of its temples and their magnificence ; and by its agora, tombs, mint, aqueducts, and their separate and joint dimensions and magnificence, the old city must be numbered by millions. There is no feeble, nebulous falsehoods about this grand old place. It is as much of a verity as Paris, London, Moscow, or New York. Through its streets surged a restless, intellectual, questioning, wonderful people ; reach- ing out with their trident and worshiping no god- dess more ardently than the fruitful divinity. It was next to Athens as a capital ; for it was the me- tropolis of the Ionian Confederacy. It was next to Jerusalem as a school of theology, and to no other city was it second as a school of art. The city, as it was constructed by the highest refinement in its pristine beauty, is here presented to the reader, in the engraving ; and as a contrast, a photograph of its condition as we see it to-day. 220 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. About its rocks, groves, shores, and caves the genii of Grecian myth played, as if festive, racy, and congenial with the soil. In fact, Apollo and Diana were born here. The silver tongue and sil- ver bow eloquence and adventure ! Latona here had her seat of refuge, and, with Diana, from whose temples the fanciful icicles hung, guarded the sanctity of marriage. So that population, even by strictest economic tabulation and truth, must have .increased. Metamorphoses puerile but favorite kaleidoscopes, which brought out of the darkness of those early ages the richest hues of fancy, as aniline colors are transmuted out of coal-tar here had more than Protean changes. While Pan, the symbol of Nature, did not disdain to lurk in leafy coverts upon hills and mounts, Bacchus did not venture very boldly where Diana was mistress, nor did Venus have here as much honor as Ceres and Jupiter Pluvius. The Amazons here found a pleas- ant asylum after a fight for their female rights ; and in all that made up pagan rites, myths, cere- monies, and grandeur, we have the New Testament for testimony, that no small gain accrued by making silver images of the great goddess whose image fell from Jupiter, and whose worship here was " simply magnificent." The worship in the Temple of Diana was con- ducted with great mystery and awe. Her great statue was clothed with symbols. There were signs of the zodiac, a necklace of acorns, a mural crown, and other emblems of her presiding and protecting power. The "properties" of the temple were as rich as the rites were imposing. I present an etching of this Diana of the Ephe- sians. It is taken from Falconer's "Ephesus" of EPHESUSHER DIVINITIES AND HER DIVINITY. 22 r 1862, a volume of rare learning and research. It touches, with finest hand, all that classic history gives as to the origin and rites of this wonderful god- dess, " whom all Asia and the world worshipeth." The cold and chaste huntress, who "chains in vestal ice the current in young veins," is not the Diana of this worship. The Bubastis of the Egyptians rather is the Diana of Ephesus ; and her reputation is not up to the standard of the chaste huntress of the Grecian myth. When the Temple of Diana fell in the third cen- tury, the spirit of St. Paul arose. " His word is more than the miraculous harp ; " and it is still sounding down the centuries. Ephesus is noted not only for her great temple, but for her pa^a- mount religious connections. These were Christian. But like her arches and columns, they are now hid beneath the lush overgrowth of bramble and weed. The old haunts are places of resort for the owl and the lizard. The travels and companions of St. Paul, recorded in the "Acts," the conversion of Apollos by Aquila and Priscilla, the belief that John the Bap- tist here exercised his peculiar function, the schools of magic overthrown by apostolic influences, the work of Timothy and Tychicus, the prominence which St. John the Evangelist gives to Ephesus as the first of the Seven Churches, and the churches and councils of the early Christians gave to Ephe- sus this capital predominance. This is a summary of the interests that cling about Ephesus, the last and not least of which are these Christian associations and the writings of the Apos- tle to his Ephesian friends. The elegant and ear- nest epistle to these men show how his heart yearned after those for and with whom he had suffered. 222 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. What, then, remains of this grand scene of other days and sacred lore ? That we proceed to deter- mine, and, being led by Ibrahim and the horseman who attended my wife's mule, we followed the path. Ibrahim has reserved the climax the temple for the end ; and with proper taste. That cli- max we looked for at every turn ; but the temple was not above ground. We thread our pathway, Indian file, for a mile or more over the dried bed of the creek known as Selenus, having started from the ruined aqueduct ; then over rubbish, where old tombs, partially opened and heavy with marble tops, are apparent, down the sacred road to the gymnasium. This place is in area, 1,000 by 700 feet, and, as the surveys show, lies between the agorae, or market-places, and the port, since filled up. The great agora is nearer the port and next to the theatre. This agora was the assemblage- place for the people. Corinthian columns, of which fragments lie about in great disorder, here formed a superb colonnade, while statues of the great Greeks and benefactors of Ephesus once lined the way. It is said that Antony here held a court of justice, and rushed out of it to pay court to Cle- opatra, who was on a visit and happened to pass that way in her litter. We did not ascend Mount Coressus. We saw it plainly enough, and its great beauty, when clothed in verdure and covered with temples, was only equaled by its rival mount- ain, Mount Prion. Between them lietheodeon and theatre. A stream once played between these rocky acclivities, and the old walls ran over them. As we trudged on and stumbled over the rough debris and amidst the high grass and weeds, hold- ing our animals and our umbrellas, I could not, DIANA EPHESIA (iN THE MUSEUM AT NAPLES). EPHESUSHER DIVINITIES AND HER DIVINITY. 223 being behind, help noticing the imromantic and irreverent performance of my wife's mule. He was aware of the inutilities of his meagre tail in fly- time ; and, like his American cousin, he used his heels with good effect sometimes all four in the air at a time, and all directed at one fly. This caused us both much amusement, though it made the position on his back decidedly irksome, if not dangerous. My wife called a halt near the walls ; and, remembering her experience in the Yosemite, arranged herself as an equestrienne a la squaw. This being satisfactory, and our minds fixed on the theatre (Acts xix. 29), made memorable by the riotous outcry against Paul, we were proceeding down the rugged and tangled path, when a small caravan of nine camels and three baby camels filled the archway. They were driven by two Arabs and loaded with straw ; so that, if they had been posed for a picture in modern Ephesus, with the mule for local color and acrobatic vivacity, it could not have been better arranged. This theatre was once, and is yet, immense. It held sixty thousand people. It is a great mass, but in ruin; not complete ruin, but complete with the aid of a very little fanciful architecture. The old semi- circle is there. Its arena is filled with strata on strata of accumulated dust, pulverized by time and shaken down by earthquakes. The grass and shrubs wave on its walls and over its seats. Some one has cut a small crop of tobacco near, which is hung up to dry. The old arches, without the superstructure, are there. The arches are of brick, and from be- neath the weeds and broken stone peep forth deli- cate traceries in marble for architrave and pillar. We grow excited, having caught, after a couple of 224 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. thousand years, the infection from the silversmith and his craftsmen. The perspiration rolls off from our animals, as well as from ourselves ; but a cool breeze stirs the high weeds, and the shrubbery over the walls rustles. There is only one sound of sin- gular sweetness heard. It is from a winged em- erald, a "green canary," as Ibrahim called it; but really the honey-bird of Asia Minor. It flew forth from the theatre and sang its little opera, in strange contrast with the roar which once shook these walls for the "space of two hours," when Demetrius ap- pealed against Paul ; or with the growls of wild beasts which dashed forth from the dark vaults against the gladiators. Then we dismounted, if only to applaud the weird and winsome songstress of this historic theatre. No Patti, with her kissing lyrics ; no Kellogg, with her sad, sweet warble, ever gave fresher charm. If upon the oldest roots the greenest mosses grow, so will this bird-voice be ever remembered as the sweetest of memories which cling to old Ephesus. Being dismounted, and pushing aside the shrubbery and weeds, we find inscriptions in Greek, and marble efflorescence in perfect beauty. These inscriptions, written for durance, are now only to be deciphered by some syllogisms drawn from the logic of that astute race whose schools were here in full play when Paul dis- puted. We did not stop to copy or endeavor to translate. It was no time. We take a good view of the plain in front of this theatre, or what now seems a plain, where once rich argosies rode. Between us and the Caystrus river there seems a great prairie and some swamp land ; while to the right and north of the castle there are grounds where the cotton-pod seems as EPHESUSHER DIVINITIES AND HER DIVINITY. 22 $ happy among melon-patches as if it were " way down in Alabama." Leaving the theatre reluc- o tantly (for we ever had a liking for the theatre), and stumbling down and around to the supposed port and custom-house, which no politics now invade and no tariff vexes, we gain one branch of the Sacred Way. There were two Sacred Ways. One is within, and the other is out and from the walls to the Tem- ple of Diana. This first way is now our objective point. Passing by the Cave of the Seven Sleepers in the quarry (which is ultimate nonsense, unre- lieved by any wit like that of poor Rip Van Winkle), and under the rocky cliffs of Mount Prion, whose imagined loveliness, when arrayed in Ephesian ho- liday, we cannot fail to picture, we ride up and down amidst scattered fragments, which are a few hand- fuls of dust or sand, compared with the measure- less majesty of the proportionate temples of which they were once a part. Then we reach the sta- dium. This was splendid in its day. It was made prominentby being on the slope of Mount Prion. It gave convenient seats on its upper side, and these were cut in the rocks. It was larger than the the- atre,, and was arranged for seventy-six thousand persons. Underneath, it was equally immense. Everywhere we find tombs. Indeed, the whole city is a vast mausoleum. Along Mount Coressus they are strewn as thickly as along the walled heights of Constantinople. In the valley they were in plenty. On the sides of Prion still more, and along the Sacred Way from the Magnesian Gate to the great temple more and more. From the stadium to the temple, on the same Sacred Way, there are still more tombs. Into these the spades and hands of curious men have delved, with what results we 22 6 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. do not always hear, as the Turkish exchequer is never full and ever greedy, and a proclamation of rich findings, as Dr. Schliemann found, leads to the lightening of the purse and the heaviness of the heart. It is impossible by vague hints to portray the greatness of this buried city and its grounds. It is only when we remember the gorgeousness and numbers of these heathen temples to gods and emperors, and to founders of religion and empire, that we can recall in some fragmentary way the resplendence of this ancient metropolis, whose mounds are so magnificent. Thirty-three temples are plainly deciphered by ruins, coins, and in- scriptions ; but among them all in mien and ges- ture, beauty, purity, and elevation is that of " Diana of the Ephesians." It was on and below the plain between Mount Prion and the hill down which we started from the aqueduct. Its site was long lost beneath the soil of the ages. Falconer, in 1862, said that no fewer than seventeen travelers had mistaken the ruin at the head of the marsh (the great gymnasium), for the vestiges of the Temple of Diana. " One of the most glorious feats of ex- cavating at Ephesus," he continues, "would be the discovery of the temple. It is an unexplored mine of antiquity. What gems, what statues, what bas-reliefs might be discovered in a city where a Parrhasius and an Apelles and Zeuxis where a Praxiteles and a Scopas, besides a host of other artists flourished ; and to the adornment of which we know that even a Phidias contributed." It was reserved for a liberal archaeologist, Mr. Wood, to find it. He succeeded. He began with the odeon and cleaned out the theatre, and, find- EPHESUS HER DIVINITIES AND HER DIVINITY. 227 ing there a hint, he next found the Magnesian Gate. That way lay the temple. For three years he labored, till he discovered that the pro- cession from the temple entered the city by one gate and went out by another. Eureka / The temple is at the junction of the two ways, and then he began to dig and dig. Ibrahim says that sometimes two thousand men were at work, and paid out of Mr. Wood's private funds. In April, 1869, he hit the happy angle, and the great temple was revealed in its height, breadth, and depth, though with its columns shattered and its toiit en- semble materially destroyed ; but still a form to enshrine a spirit, that of Diana the Great, whose image fell from Jupiter! It was the splendid shrine of her whose moonlight beauty gives to earth its selectest enchantment. Looking over this ground, and recalling the scenes here enacted when the riot occurred which jeopardized Paul's liberty of person and speech, how much fresh and beauteous meaning bursts into flower from each one of the chapters of the Epistle to the Ephesians ! When he dignifies and ag- grandises the power wrought in Christ, he compares it in his first chapter with the dominion which was found in Ephesus. When he would grace the Christian with honors, he finds similes in the proud citizenship at Ephesus. When he would find a fit metaphor for the system of Christ, he looked toward the heathen temple, "fitly framed together, growing into an holy temple." He had but to look out of his prison upon the rock to frame his figure of a ship tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine. When he would travel through these hot vales and mountains, and longed 22 g FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. for a cool retreat, he thought of the sweetness of the evening and would not have its ethereal mild- ness come "upon your wrath." Feeling the beauty even of the ambiguous service for Diana, he in- veighs against that uncleanness that defileth. In fine, standing with the great concourse of the sta- dium, or looking upon the contests of the gladia- tors in the theatre, or seeing the exercises in the gymnasium, he might well cry out, with eloquent analogy : " Put on the whole armor of God ; " "Ye wrestle not against flesh and blood;" "Stand, therefore, having your loins girt about with the truth, and having on the breastplate of righteous- ness, and your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace." His allusion to the shield, the dart, the helmet, and the sword lifts the picture of Ephesus, even in its ruins, into a splendid illus- tration of this gentlest and bravest of all his epistles. Slowly we return from our day of wonders, full of that weird mysticism which haunts the mind when such associations clothe the senses with their dim radiance. Coming under the walls of the aque- duct, we see three of the blackest of black negresses, partly clad in red robes. In tipsy glee they hail us for backsheesh. We fling a. para or so in honor of the sex to which the huntress of the silver bow belongs. "From Abyssinia?" I cry. No response. " From Egypt ? " Dead as the Sphinx. "From Nubia?" " Yah ! yah ! Nubia, yah ! yah ! " and the three Nubian priestesses, who serve Diana afar off and yet at her very gates, never heard of the beauteous Queen of Night, and know little of her peculiar mo- EPHESUSIIER DIVINITIES AND HER DIVINITY. 229 ralities. Africa is watching by the grave of Asia, and America is endeavoring to penetrate its mysteries. One can only find expression for such eccentric changes of time in the quaint imagery of Sir Thomas Browne, who described Egypt as " the land of obliviousness, which doteth. Her ancient civility is gone, and her glory hath vanished as a phantas- ma. Her youthful days are over, and her face hath become wrinkled and tetric. She poreth not upon the heavens. Astronomy is dead unto her, and Knowledge maketh other cycles. Canopus is afar off, Memnon resoundeth not to the sun, and Nilus heareth strange voices. Her monuments are but hieroglyphically sempiternal. Osiris and Anubis, her averruncous deities, have departed, while Orus yet remains, dimly shadowing the principle of vicis- situde and the effluxion of things, but receiveth little oblation." Yet it is this doting old Egypt, this phantasm of the wrinkled face, this unresounding Memnon, whose monuments are speaking so feebly to the ear of this century, that keeps its dead watch, through Nubian harridans, over the ancient civility and vanished glory of Ephesus ! CHAPTER XVIII. ON THE WAY TO DAMASCUS. We heard the Tecbir, so these Arabs call Their shout of onset, when 'with loud acclaim They challenged Heaven, as if demanding conquest. The battle join d, and, through the burb'rous herd, Fight, fight, and Paradise, was all their cry. THE SIEGE OF DAMASCUS. A CITY which holds the ashes of Saladin and Buckle, and is the home of Abd-el-Kader which had the glory of St. Paul's conversion and the honor of Mohammed's most oriental compli- ment is not to be seen^ in a day, nor dismissed as a mirage of the desert. If it had not once been the capital of the Arab world, the Paris of the Orient, its claim as the elder beauty of the Abrahamic exo- dus from Mesopotamia into the Holy Land, would give added sparkle to each drop of its rivers, canals, and fountains, hallow every atom of its dust, and gild every object upon which its fierce sun shines. Every rock seems familiar with the forgotten past. Upon its sides is written the history of de- parted armies and although the record of the fire and stone are obscure, still they are penciled by the Mighty Hand. I have seen in these stony records, pictures of Egyptian and Assyrian, on the rock, with the names of Sennacherib and Pharaoh. Their deeds have lasted so as to confirm Holy Writ. 230 ON THE WAY TO DAMASCUS. 231 When we left behind the blue sea and the prom- ontory of Beirut yesterday, and wound our way over the bare hills on hills, and bleak mount- ains on mountains which led us hither ; and when we bade farewell to the heights and vales of that Lebanon by the sea, so much beloved, and the glory of its cedars, palms, mulberries, fig-trees, and vineyards, and began our long ride among the rocks, mountains, and plains of the Lebanon beyond the sea, we knew that there was a generous recom- pense in store for our travel. If our road was elevated and our path zigzag, were we not repaid by the shadows and splendors of the Lebanon ranges and the peerless magnificence of Mount Hermon ? If our companions were of an alien race, were we not repaid by views of mountain vales and cones, and the wide, verdant plain at their base, not to speak of the ever-recurring vista of that Biblical sea which met our gaze through mountain defiles, and which ever lifts itself up as if it were a psalm ? What a prospect we have from these mountains of Lebanon ! What memories ! Yonder, in the south-west is or was Tyre, and there, somewhat nearer, was Sidon ; and to the north, lined by a broad belt of sky and sea, which seem to mingle as one, are the ancient castles of Crusader and Pay- nim, and the mountains round about, which seem self-withdrawn, in perpetual grandeur ! How could we bring our vision down to the details of the jour- ney the immense herds of cattle, goats, and sheep, and the caravans of camels, donkeys, and men when at every movement we must turn to the mar- riage of sea and sky, under the white veil of the distant clouds ? How can we condescend to tell 232 FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. of the beautiful kiosks, the Maronite monasteries perched on mountain summits, the picturesque fig- gatherers and raisin-curers, or the annoyances, the cost, and delays, when from the glen of Hummana, with its bowering orchards and its vesture of vine- yards, to the sublime gorge of the Abana, across the tawny plain of Sahra (Sahara), there is a gallery of pictures whose natural features are illuminated as well by the light from sacred truth as by the Orient sunbeams, tempered on the mountains by the most genial of airs ? You may call it enthusiasm which takes the pilgrim hither and over three ranges of the two Lebanons. But is it not worth a striving to see the summits of these hallowed hills of the Bible ? Are these bare heights, bursting in grand- eur, although only here and there clothed with veg- etation are these dark gorges between lofty peaks and castellated walls are these Druse principali- ties, all red with Christian blood, these streams sil- very with the lymph which makes the fissures and plains fruitful in grape and fig are these Syrian temples of Roman and Herodian times, these wild retreats and verdurous belts, these precipices of tanned earth and rock and terraces of blushing apricots and pomegranates are these fountains of sweet waters bursting from cliffs of limestone all nothing, that we should regret the heats and dusts of our way to the city of our promise and hope ? " Promise and hope ? " Yes. When a boy, I read Lamartine's " Pilgrimage to the Holy Land." His stately poetic prose and lordly enthusiastic per- sonality made a vivid impression. His picture of Syria as " calcined with desolation " did not detract from the aureole of holy light which he threw about these very mountains of Lebanon ! ON THE WA Y TO DAMASCUS. 233 \ I wonder whether Lamartine saw these mount- ains in the spring, when they are said to be green and beautiful, or at the end of summer, as is our case, when all is umber, and rock. But it is said that even when the terraces are tricked out in their finery of vines, olives, and mulberry, still the mount- ains look brown from below as you are ascending ; but otherwise when descending, when the terraced walls are not observed. However that may be, we have now something of that contrast wherein lieth much delight. When the water supply here is full, then the spring and summer are generous of their graces and goodness. But it is not true though poetically pretty, as our English Minister, Lowell, in his heyday of inspiration, once sung that " 'Tis heaven alone that is given away, 'Tis only God may be had for the asking; There is no price set on the lavish summer, And June may be had by the poorest comer." No heavenly beauty, no lavish summer, no leafy June, is to be had here gratis. There is a price which is paid in hard labor for all that the Lebanon gives to its stewards and toilers, either in loveliness or reward. Something more than rhapsody is required to tell how we passed the day on the road to Damascus. There is a good road, well macadamized. It takes fourteen hours in the French diligence. We started at the early hour of four. Our seat was not a happy one at first, for we were in the " inte- rieur," and with us two Arab women, with child, food, and baggage, and two men. When daylight came I found my neighbor was a very black man, who insisted on sleeping upon my fraternal shoulder. FROM POLE TO PYRAMID. We soon rectified our position, for we had been cheated by the agent, who put us in the wrong place. Being elevated to the banquette, we had a better view of the gorgeous scenery, and more comfort. In going out of Beirut, the scenes are so thoroughly Asiatic, with the square stone houses and terraced mountains, the palm-trees and the cactus hedges, the figs and the vineyards, the cis- terns of water and the caravans of camels, that we felt, more than at Broussa, that we were within the realms of the Orient. We felt, too, that we were on the enchanted borders of the Holy Land. Watching and waiting, gazing through dust and heat, we long for a glance at the city of our hope and promise ; how can we help but anticipate ? This emerald setting in the rough cliffs, between the far-stretching desert and the limitless sea, when shall we see its seven rivers ? When look upon Abana and Pharpar, "better than all the waters of Israel?" We are athirst for the vision ! Passing walls on walls of rock at the head of the great valleys, like those in the midst of our back- bone range in Colorado, but decorated with vines in terraced culture ; passing patient camels, horses, and donkeys in endless procession, overladen, as it seems, and trudging slowly up the steeps and down the windings ; gazing at turbaned Abrahamic plough- men, with their antique wooden ploughs and laziest of ox teams, driven by the old goad ; peering into strange, bronzed Bedouin faces and veiled womanly eyes ; and watching long companies of sealed me- tallic wagons, guarded by horsemen, fresh and alert, as if in a circus ring, we at length reach the plain of the classic river Leontes, now known as the Lit- ON THE WAY TO DAMASCUS. 235 any. Here are proofs of moisture in green fields and fruitful orchards and vineyards. Our halting-place is Stora, where there is a hotel kept by a Greek, Andrea, which we find quite a comfort. Out of the coupe of the diligence leaps a splendid-looking man. He is an Arab, and all rush to greet him. A company of soldiers, Circas- sians and Turks in uniform, receive him. With quiet and elegant manner he embraces some and salutes others. " Who is he ? Can it be Rustam Pasha, the Italian, the Pasha of the Christians, the ruler of the Lebanon ? " We go within the hostelry of the Greek, and begin our late breakfast at noon. A crowd entered with the Governor, for he is a Governor or sub-Governor of these villages. His name is Halil Bey. He asks of his attendants the usual cigarette. I present my compliments and my cigarette case, and this leads to courtesy, and we begin to talk. Before it is done he inquires gently about our President just dead ! We invite him to America, and he tenders us his protection to Baalbec. This was well and pleasing ; but we do not require protection here. It was well, be- cause it gave us what is needed here, a little pres- tige. It helps us to other courtesy, and hurts none. In his retinue is the son of our former dragoman at Beirut. This young man gives us a card to his father at Damascus. His father is Ayoub Tabet. He is just from America. We are now in the midst of that level, some ten miles or more wide, which divides the two ranges of the Lebanon, whose waters are shed on left and right, for over a degree of latitude, to fructify the plain, and which, breaking their way under the west- ern shadow of Mount Hermon, debouch between 2^6 FROM POLE 7*O PYRAMID. the sites of Tyre and Sidon. Upon this level what populations once lived, when Heliopolis had its sun worship, or Baalbec had its millions and the coast its commerce ; and when the land was not denuded of its forests or cursed with bad govern- ment ! We break the monotony of the way by talking to the conductor. He speaks French. He is a large and good-natured Arab, and has been trained by the Jesuits in the school at Beirut ; still, he is an Arab. I inquire of him as to the effect of relig- ion here. He replies, as he looks out upon Mos- lems on their carpets praying : " Oh, too many religions not too much religion." It is a well- turned phrase. I ask him again : " What good these pilgrim- ages to Mecca do ? Every village has its man on the way now." He laughingly shows his white teeth, and with an old maxim responds : " If a man goes to Mecca once, trust him : twice, don't : and three times, move out of his neighborhood." We leave this place with some reluctance. It is a beautiful spot ; but it is not Damascus. Our jolly Arab neighbor in the banquette halloos to the sleepy passengers, " Damask ! " at every relay ; but we are but half our way when we take a lunch and a fresh start at Stora, in the midway plain. Goatherds are hailed by the rowdy Arab ; old sheiks are saucily chaffed by him ; a small boy standing astride, like a miniature colossus, of our road is joked by him ; the conductor of the dili- gence is even twitted by him, until the great shadow of our conveyance is thrown by the shades of evening down the mountain sides, and we are ON THE WAY TO DAMASCUS. 2<37 almost sure that Damascus is nigh. We have passed the pleasant vale, the fountains, and the ruined khans, called Meithelun. Gray hills of rock, with vines, which are the only relief to the eye under the suns of summer, usher in new views of villages on distant slopes, unromantic and flat, but with green about them as fringes ; and then we strike the desert. The road shines like a vein of silver across the arid plain. At its termination we dash with unex- pectedness and delight into a defile of bewildering beauty. Foliage and fountains, and streams under sunshine, walnuts and willows, poplars ever so tall and elegant, give signs that water is here, work- ing its magic and by its silver silences and mur- murous melodies is beginning to make out of bleak- ness a beatitude. Wherever there is water there is hope. Job tells us that even if a tree be cut down, there is hope that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease. We have every sign here upon this road that the root has waxed old in the earth. "Yet through the scent of water it will