3D5 it Ji w.$~&msM oninr F Hiss Frances M. Molera ^anrrgC^ EX L1BSUS - m y - i ^Cr I/Sk*f^r~> I V ^* ^. f \ s^rrbtxlfcS -~ i LX-* ^*v -^w I --- Xj.* 1 ^** - 41*^?- sv-< in the town which is near the shore. These keep the peace, watch the scala (or quay) and shipping, and light the lamps. They seldom penetrate into the interior of the island, which is a dozen miles in girth. Once in a while, when sauntering over the heights of the island, or among the pines, there comes on you, unexpectedly, a strange-looking man, as if he were lost out of one of Ulysses's pinnaces THE ALBANIAN FORESTER. j 3 in an erratic way, or just from Albania, or had been tossed out of the Cyclades by an earthquake, or swam ashore by some help of the Homeric gods or goddesses. He is in the old Greek cos- tume, with embroidered vest, large red sash, and baggy pants. As a sign of his Turkish subjection, he wears the red fez. In his sash he has some Damascus pistols, silver-mounted. They are as handsome and as harmless as those of our Ca- vass. There protrudes from the sash the jewelled handle of the Damascene dirk, or yataghan. There is a sword, or scimitar, by his side, and altogether he appears quite voluminous at his middle. He wears low shoes, adorned with silver buckles. He has them turned up at the toes, and high black silk stockings. His brow is corrugated with care. His hair and mustache are blonde. His frame is stalwart. Two dogs follow him about. What is his business? To protect the forest from goat, fire and spoilers. The trees must not be disturbed. Fig and olive, pine and pome- granate, on the road or by-paths, or over the stone fences, each and all are precious. The world does move ! This elaborate forester is from the Albanian mountains. He is too proud to make his avoca- tion known. He is yet to arrest any one. He trudges along as independently as if he were in his native Croatia. He is one of the hardy race I4 THE PRINCES ISLES. of mountaineers which has seen much fighting. He is on good terms with my Dalmatian serviteiir, Pedro Sckoppegalia. I hope the forester's name is not so unpronounceable as Pedro's. Besides guarding the forest, vines and fruits of the isles, these men act as private guards to houses and grounds. They are good, orthodox Greek Christians ; and whether as Slavs or Greeks, I sup- pose they love Russia more than Turkey. There are not many of them, but they give picturesque- ness to the scene. No robbers are on the isle. As some one said to me : " If a robber should make a raid here, how could he get off the island without being caught?" The beggars are few and are easily satisfied. They are a law and a police to themselves. There does not seem much necessity for these guardians of the vine and pine, fig and pomegranate, for few people here lock their doors at night, much less their garden gates. Altogether the population seems to be happy and contented. Whether it be the fisherman sit- ting on the sand, mending his nets after the apos- tolic method, or the little girls plucking the grapes in the vineyard and figs in the orchards, or the women attending their children and their washing, the song ever goes up from cheerful throats and well-fed stomachs. The prevalent song is Greek. It has a weird, quaint melody of which I have ALBANIAN POLICE. NO NEED OF POLICE. l g heard snatches in some comediettas at the Casino in New York. There can be little use in having much police on the islands, as at nearly every point you meet groups of honest people. The carriers with their kegs of fresh water on their donkeys, the fruit venders and foot peddlers, and the donkey-drivers or parties are everywhere. Bevies of girls and children are in the woods, sitting on or playing among the rocks, or ensconced amidst the aromatic shrubbery. There are no Naiads here. All are Dryads ; for there are no fountains, only wells ; and trees in plenty, where the wood nymphs cluster and chatter and laugh their golden moments away. Sometimes, wlfen the bands play at the restaurants, or a Bohemian comes along with his hand-organ, the young folks have a dance. There is much provision on the isle for picnics and parties. The steamer from the city, especially on Sunday, brings its thousands to the isle for pastime, and they make the hours fly on winged feet. Although there are many and various people so- journing on the isle some of whom are occasion- ally addicted to bier de Vienne, and the horrid mastic or whiskey of the country I have not seen one case of drunkenness, fighting, or quarrelling. The policeman, therefore, when not a gay and happy forester is almost supererogatory. The roads are in admirable repair, and fit for !6 THE PRINCES ISLES. the finest vehicles. Occasionally an invalid lady ascends the mountain in the old sedan chair. The paths up and down are for donkeys and promenad- ers, who flock over the island from morning till evening, in search of cool spots and al fresco din- ing. Now and then these social amenities indicate a church/^ or love making; for the women of the isle have rare Hellenic beauty and coquettish ways. Besides these promenaders, you meet fre- quently the peddlers of all kinds of wares, cakes, confections, fruit and water. Everything you want here, from a needle to a pair of shoes, from a peach to a glass of ice-cream, is brought to your very hand. The water that you drink is drawn from wells in the valleys on the north and south sides of the isle. The proprietors own a donkey drove. They fill four casks of pure cool water from the deep wells, rope the casks with equipoise dexterously on the donkey's back, and dispense it around to the private houses and restaurants. Water costs about half a piaster a keg, or two cents. Some of these venders of water and things are hamals. They bear great loads from the scala and ferries to any part of the island. They are duplicates of the stalwarts of Stamboul, who can carry 600 or 700 pounds of furniture, trunks, or what not up the hills and never turn a hair. In my summer life here, I have yet to meet from the people, old or young, one act or look of NO BAD BOYS. discourtesy, or observe one Bad Boy made after the similitude of Peck's. The Greek origin of the people has given them graces beyond the reach of art, and my summer at Prinkipo has been a revel in the very heart of nature. CHAPTER II. ISLES OF THE PRINCES THEIR GEOGRAPHY AND HIS- TORICAL ASSOCIATIONS. THE map will show the relative position of the isles to Prinkipo and to each other and to the main land and city of Constantinople. Oxia and Plati seem from the other isles like barren rocks in the sea. This is one of the illusions. Proti, Antigone and Halki are about of equal size. They are nearest the city. Androvichi lies east of Prinkipo. It has but one resident on it. You may guess his occupation by the great gash he has made on its western side, from whence comes the marble and out of which he makes the lime for transportation to the city. This isle has no culti- vation, unless the smoke that ascends from his lime kilns indicates an ancient cult and a pious sacrifice which Homer so frequently records. Nyandros, another island, is off the southern end of Prinkipo. From the top of this latter island Nyandros seems to be a part of Prinkipo, but it is really two miles away. Pita is a very small islet, between Halki and Antigone. It is not peopled. The other islands are visited by strangers as sum- tl8 THE MONASTERY OF CHRISTOS. l ^ mer resorts, besides having a goodly number of inhabitants who live there the year round. Prin- kipo, however, is the chief. It is facile firinceps. The island is some ten miles around, with a rare variety of mountain and intervale. The Turkish name for Prinkipo is Buyuk-Ada, or " Large Isle." This is the appellation given to it by the ancient Byzantines. The history and reminiscences connected with the ancient nunnery established in this place, and to which the Empress Irene was provisionally confined, are more or less accurately given in Schlumberger's " lies des Princes." Where the monastery of St. Michael's now stands, on the northern side of the isle, there existed in former times a large village. It was called by the Byzantines " Karya." The church attached to that monastery used to serve as the parish church of the village. The monastery now belongs to the patriarchate of the Greek Church and is rented by an abbot. The monastery of Christos is also of very an- cient date. Beginning from just beyond our villa, on the mountain side, its premises run down to the Diaskalon or picnic grounds. The sur- rounding lands belong to this monastery. Up to 1870 the building was a perfect mass of wooden ruins, including the church. In that year the pres- ent Patriarch of Alexandria, then Patriarch of Constantinople, having been deposed from his bea- 20 THE PRINCES ISLES. tific title and place, retired to Prinkipo. He set to work to restore the tumbledown wooden hut which served as a chapel. With the help of contribu- tions from wealthy friends, the church, under the personal superintendence of the ex-Patriarch, was rebuilt of stone as it now stands. The monastery itself was only restored last year, 1885, by the present abbot, mostly at his own expense. This abbot is an active and hard-working man. He devotes his whole time to the cultivation of the lands belonging to the monastery. He is also a large wine and spirit brewer, and the products of his brewery are renowned all over Constantinople for their purity and excellence. I am sure from observation and taste that the wine of the isle is more plentiful and delicious than the water. The latter is nearly as costly as the wine. I have been told by those who have dug on the island for water that Prinkipo is somewhat different from the other islands geologically and mineralog- ically, and that parts of it differ from other por- tions. This is accounted for, of course, by some remote cataclysm. Like the other isles it has its depressions and elevations. These give a curva- ture to the horizon which adds many a grace. Upon the tops of the mountainous portions are situated Greek colleges and monasteries. These give the name of " Scholastic " to Halki, and would THE DA Y BE GINS A T SUNSE T. 2 1 give that of " Pious "to Prinkipo were not Prin- kipo so superb in her worldly adornments. Halki has three seminaries of learning : two Greek and one Turkish. The last is a naval school. Prinkipo has three monasteries. These isles, especially Halki and Prinkipo, are accessible from the city of Constantinople by the Shirket ferry. It leaves the bridge over the Golden Horn several times a day, and makes the trip in an hour and a-half. The Turk sets his clock and watch by the sun. He begins his day at sunset. The time, therefore, varies. This produces, until you are accustomed to it, many misadventures. The pop- ulation who come to these islands consult the daily journals for the exact minute when the boats leave the bridge at Constantinople and the quai at the isles. There are two good hotels in the town of Prinkipo, and these are well patronized in sum- mer. Of the other isles, besides Prinkipo, I will hereafter dilate at pleasure, for from Prinkipo with our steam launch, which Congress was good enough to vote the minister, we can take our time to visit and revisit these gems of the sea. What historic events have these isles witnessed during the thousand years of Greek empire in the East ? What palaces and prisons were here erected for living and fallen greatness when in power or banished? What did the Empress Irene in the ninth century for Prinkipo, when it was at the sum- 22 THE PRINCES ISLES. mit of its splendor ? What has become of the very dust of these Grecian worthies and rulers, since the conquest of Constantinople in A. D. 1453, by the Moslem ? How happens it that only a few old monastic relics remain upon this consecrated ground ? These are questions under a veil of tra- dition, if not history, which even the regeneration of these lands has failed to bring fully to the light. The tourist who travels with Murray's red-book in hand will be disappointed at its meagre men- tion of the Princes Isles. It gives hardly a stick- ful to Halki ; and as for Prinkipo there is scarcely a finger's length of matter, and that has reference to the Empress Irene. That reference is all too brief, for the empress was a grand figure in history at a grand epoch. It hints at some spectacle of fallen greatness and vanished splendor witnessed in the first year of the ninth century, when Irene, the contemporary of Charlemagne and Haroun-Al- Raschid was banished from the throne of Byzan- tium to the convent which she had built at Prin- kipo. The convent remains on the north-eastern side of the island, and from its lofty site sweeps a splendid horizon of continent, isle and sea. This description was provocative. I sent to London and Paris, and scanned the libraries here, to find a full account of the antiquities and per- sonnel of this once regal isle. I heard of but one volume in French, by a German, Gustave GIBBON'S PICTURE OF THE EAST. 23 Schlumberger, which would serve to elucidate the spectacle. But even this volume is faulty. I doubt if the writer ever visited the isles. Gibbon is always near, and so I turn to his grandiose pict- ure of the Eastern Empire ; but even he fails to give much of interest about the empress and other great personages, in their relation to our isle. In his forty-eighth Chapter, he makes a rdsumd of five centuries of the decline and fall, and he has eight more centuries before Constantinople succumbs to the Turk. He pursues its " tedious and uniform state of weakness and misery." He has " cor- nered " the great Roman name in the lonely sub- urbs of Constantinople. " As in his daily pray- ers, the Mussulman of Fez or Delhi turns his face toward Mecca," so the historic eye, as he phrases it, " is always fixed on Constantinople." Making this prelude the historian proceeds with stately step to open the prologue of swelling drama in which, then as now, Latins, Greeks, Bul- garians, Russians and Turks play their parts. Upon this stage moves Leo IV., son of the fifth Constantine. This Emperor Leo took an Athe- nian orphan girl to wife. She had great personal accomplishments. He was feeble ; she was not. It is the old story ; she was the ruler of the Em- peror, and at his death, by his will became Em- press-Guardian of all the Eastern Empire. The Prince, their son, Constantine VI., became her 24 THE PRINCES ISLES. anxiety and care, next after the restoration of the worship of images, of which she was the champion. This image-worship was the burning question of her time. Upon this question thrones were upturned and synods thundered. The iconoclasts had been in arms and had been successful. After many trials the Prince succeeded in obtaining the throne o and humiliating his mother, but he was soon de- throned by a counterplot of the wily Irene. She had his eyes put out. She had him assassinated. Ambition stifled all the good in her nature. Her crimes were horrible, but not more so than the crime of many other rulers at Byzantium during the Greek dynasties. Putting out the eyes and banishment to monasteries seem to have been the favorite penalty and pastime of princes in those days of unparalleled cruelty. Irene held her ill- gotten power only five years. She was wont to pass through Constantinople in her golden char- iot, drawn by four milk-white steeds. Their reins were held by patricians who had been made eunuchs by her edict. These eunuchs, with the cunning of that class, conspired against her. The great treasurer, Nicephorus, led the conspiracy. He was secretly invested with the purple and crowned in St. Sophia. Irene sought a retreat from her perfidious treasurer. This, her prayer, was granted ; but when she requested her treasures, they were refused her; for was he not a good EMPRESS IRENE AND HER TREASURER. 35 treasurer ? But he graciously allowed her to re- tire honorably to the monastery of Prinkipo. It seems that this was too near Byzantium for his comfort, for he banished her to the Island of Les- bos. There, like good Penelope, she endeavored to atone for her unnatural crimes by a life of labor at the distaff. With this simple implement the empress, who had revelled in all the splendors of the Blachernal palace, was enabled to earn a scanty subsistence. What remains of the old Byzantine civilization ? Nothing but the walls, and even their eternity of strength has been broken. When the spring comes with its foliage, the moat around the towers that once protected the great city is a vegetable garden, and the blossoms of the peach, plum and the pomegranate give to its grassy mound their beauty and fragrance. What changes have taken place ! Who can tell whether man or nature, the sword or the earthquake, hath produced them ? When I was in Constantinople in 1851 I saw a large porphyry sarcophagus. It was once the tomb of the Empress Irene, when she was buried in Prinkipo. It had been converted into a water tank. It was in the old hippodrome. It is no longer even there. It matters not to us in Amer- ica or elsewhere now, what became of her tomb or of her treasurer. There may have been a Lord Elgin for the removal of the one and a convenient 26 THE PRINCES ISLES. Canada in the archipelago for the other. One reign was similar with that of others. Another ruler soon follows. Eye after eye is put out with red hot irons ; and so on, until the Turk comes, though with a scimitar yet with some clemency about the year that Columbus went to seek Ca- thay. The purple robe of the Orient which enveloped Constantinople, and whose resplendent fringes hung over these isles, was associated with the orthodox Greek religion. There was a closer relation of Church and State here than the union of civil and religious power at Rome. At no age, or country 7 , was there ever so permanent a system with so much of intrigue, cruelty, bloodshed and war, as at this historic point. It is the verdict of history that the incoming of the Turk was a bless- ing to mankind. In all these phases of power the monastery has played a great part. Nearly all that remains in these Islands of the Princes of the evidences and emblems of ancient empire are these old religious houses. They are not numerous, but they are monuments of Greek rule, long in con- tinuance, and at times resplendent in scholarship and jurisprudence. The Turks were iconoclasts. They spared little. Few of the images of the orthojdox church escaped their spoliation. They were religionists. They carne with fire and fury. A BYZANTINE SARDANAPALU$. 27 Manuscripts, pictures, statues, altars and struct- ures fell before the Sultanic baton. Blindings and mutilations, however, crimes so horrible as to make Gibbon's page blush, no longer incarna- dined the azure Bosphorus or Propontis. In looking here for relics of those regal and monastic eras we find few. Even the pictures which the muse of history paints are but meagre, grimed and almost colorless. Open a page of Gibbon. Read the story of these emperors. Select one whom you may call a sample. Take Manuel. He was a Comnenus. In war he could not fight for peace ; and in peace he was incapable of war. He was an anchorite in the camp ; a Sardanapa- lus in the palace. No sooner did he return from the field to Constantinople than he resigned him- self to the arts and pleasures of a life of luxury. The expense of his dress, table and palace sur- passed the measure of his predecessors. Whole summer days were idly wasted on these delightful isles of the Propontis, in the incestuous love of his niece, Theodora gift of God, in the euphony of this rich tongue. Here and there we have such horrible hints as to these lovely isles, in the front of history ; but in vain have I looked for the grand palaces, or even their ruins, in this isle. Outside of the monasteries I have found but one old tower of doubtful tradition, and the founda- tions of what is known as Irene's palace. The last 2 g THE PRINCES ISLES. are on the north side and in the vale that divides the two high points of the island, a half-mile from our humble villa. You will know the spot by a dark-looking cave out of which much iron has been extracted. It is on the left hand of the road as you drive -eastward from the village. As you cross the stone bridge you see the tower and the wide foundations nearly hidden beneath the red soil and abundant foliage. If you desire some mosaics or something else archaeological take a pick, and do as my neighbor, Mr. Edwin Pears, author of the " Latin Conquest," has done : dig away the dirt and you will be rewarded for the delving. When this palace was in the meridian of its existence, and before the Turks razed all these evi- dences of Greek luxury, this isle was as pictur- esque as art and opulence could make it. Being in sight of Constantinople, and with a climate where even winter smiles, it was the resort of princes and, of course, of the troop of hypocrites, parasites and favorites which Walter Scott has well pictured in his " Robert of Paris." What a race the Greeks were and are ! For a thousand years, and within my sight upon yonder Seraglio Point, and here upon these isles of their princes, they struggled and survived, after many an exhaustive contest with the Barbarians of the North and the Moslems of the East. Their THE IONIAN GREEKS. 2 Q colonies were their glory. Here the Ionian chil- dren of old Greece still held supreme honor. Pre- cocious often, but always intellectual, they ad- vanced in nearly all that modern philosophy can teach ; while Athens, the eye and soul of their pol- ity and art, "arose to an empire that can never perish until heroism shall cease to warm, poetry to delight and wisdom to instruct the future." CHAPTER III. HEALTH AND OTHER ATTRACTIONS OF PRINKIPO. THERE are 250,000 Greeks in Constantinople, of whom there are 120,000 r ayahs, or Turkish subjects. When Mohammed II. captured Con- stantinople, as I have said, he reserved the Isles of the Princes for the use of the Greeks who chose to remove there. Some thousands sought these isles as a residence ; their descendants yet seek them as such. These residents are the cream of the Greek population of the city. Their features, especially the rich complexion, the straight nose in a line with the symmetric brow, seem copied from one model, or rather that model is copied from nature. I find that model upon the wall of the Greek villa of which the writer is at present the occupant. It is a Minerva. It is grace, dignity and wisdom in one. Thirty years ago, just at the conclusion of the Crimean war, a lady Mrs. Hornby, wife of an English loan commissioner who was afterwards a judge in Constantinople wrote a brief chapter in her book about the delights of a farm on this isle of Prinkipo. She said : " We could buy half 30 WEALTH AND ELEGANCE OF PRINKIPO. 31 the island, with a garden and vineyard, for ^500, and build a good comfortable house with a fire- place and every comfort." Now, five million pounds sterling would not buy the property of the town proper, much less the splendid mansions which rise and front street on street. The streets are terraced from the sea up the mountain side to the pine forests which crown the summits. Upon the north-western side of Prinkipo there is a little city whose villas are rare in elegance and architecture, whose gardens have a hesperidean fruitage and bloom, and whose red-tiled roofs over the white or yellow buildings add a refinement to the town and isle which the bath houses at the water's edge, upon the jutting crags, themselves ornamental, in vain try to dispel. The rich Greek merchants and bankers, together with the English, German, French, American, Armenian and Swiss families, who summer here, have not only spent their money freely to decorate their own homes and grounds, but they have made winding roads, up hill and down, which cross and encircle the island. These roads are embowered most of the way by fig, olive and stone-pine trees. The culti- vated country is green at the opening of the season with the fig bearing its fresh fruit. The vines are putting forth their tender grapes. The pomegranates blaze with scarlet flowers. Hun- dreds, nay thousands, of people come to the isle 32 THE PRINCES ISLES. from the city for health and recreation, attracted by these parterres, mansions and pineries. They often bring their provender along. There are several extensive restaurants on the island, where, upon the smoothed terraces, in the open air under coniferous canopies, with convenient tables and seats, there is plentiful and breezy room for picnic parties. Many invalids from all parts of the East are ordered here, to drink in the resinous ozone, while they lie on rugs under the groves which cover most of the isl- and elevations. While the carriage roads are as good as those of Central Park, the principal feat- ure of the isle is the donkey ride. This style of locomotion is quite as common here as in Egypt or the Riviera. The donkeys require much prodding and are not comparable with those of Egypt. The company for a donkey promenade may be made up of a dozen or more. It is guarded by the Greek donkey man, who, whether the animals go fast or slow, keeps up with the pace, and steers the beast cunningly by the tail, up hill and down, from the quay on the north-west to the rocky top of St. George on the south-east. Upon this height is a monastery of old associations, and an out-door restaurant with its conveniences for rest. What a prospect is here upon this point, overlook- ing land and sea, reaching from San Stefano in Europe to Mount Olympus in Asia ; and from the THE THIRST FOR TRAVEL. 33 north, where the Alem Dagh lifts its mountainous observatory of 1460 feet for the tourist from Con- stantinople to the mysterious islets of Oxia and Plati, which leap out of the western sea, rock- ribbed but lovely ! The French have a proverb that a man who drinks once will drink again. It applies to travel- ling adventures. I began my travels to the Orient in 1851. Since then, from Hammerfest, the north- ernmost town in Europe, to the Atlas Mountains in Africa and the Nubian Cataract of the Nile, and from San Francisco west to Damascus east, I have viewed many rare scenes. The^e travels have been inspired by an unrest that belongs to my nature, by a curiosity begotten of reading, and by a romantic sentiment that defies the practical. Bayard Taylor's " Views Afoot" started me to this land of the Orient thirty-five years ago. But the most interesting journey of my life carried me to the Riviera on and along the Corniche road, and from thence to Corsica, Spain and Algiers. That trip was a search for " Winter Sunbeams." It was a sanitary tour, under Dr. Henry Bennet's direc- tion. The same prompting from an eminent physician of Constantinople impelled me to this isle of Prinkipo, here to summer. I had not seen these isles in 1851, nor when I again visited Tur- key in 1 88 1. Last summer, 1885, we made a hurried visit here in the launch of an Armenian 3 34 THE PRINCES ISLES. banker. He is an American citizen and flies our flag, when the Kai'macam of the isle permits, over a grand tower at his villa overlooking the sea. I had then a glimpse, in the gloaming of the evening, and in a ride behind his high-stepping bays, of the rare mountains and valleys over which these roads run. But I did not dream then of the affluence of loveliness and sanitation which the isle possesses. The question may, perhaps, be asked : " How could you, as an officer of your country, accredited near His Majesty at Yildiz, live so far from your post as the island of Prinkipo, which is fifteen miles away,? " To this inquiry of the anxious tax-payer I re- spond : First: It is not so very far. I could reach the Legation Office within two hours from my home in Prinkipo. Second : In the summer season, and by the in- structions, I was not required to be at the Lega- tion more than twice a week ; only to be in call. I could go every day, as I generally did in the summer, if not for business certainly for re- creation. The bulk of my business is done at the island, which I tried to make an agreeable re- sort for all Americans who came that way. Third : It was a health resort ; and health is in- dispensable beyond all things. In the summer Constantinople itself, or Pera, where the ambassa- PINE FORESTS. HEALTH. 35 dors winter, is uninhabitable by reason of its stenches, dogs and heat. Had I arranged to spend another summer at Therapia, on the upper Bosphorus, with its endless round of visits, I might have made many more acquaintances and been more useful, perhaps, in gathering information about the endless Eastern imbroglio. But as health was predominant in my mind, I concluded to forego all this, in order to en- joy the refreshing and isolated delights of Prinkipo. This the steam launch, voted by Congress, happily seconded. Among the requisites for health, and especially in pulmonary and rheumatic disorders, is the res- inous quality of the pine. Bishop Berkley saw the poetic Star of Empire on its western way ; but he made also some practical observations about the use of tar-water in consumption. It is an old remedy. It is one of the virtues of Prin- kipo. Every breeze is laden with its essence ; every pine needle distils it. Some years ago an attempt was made in Germany to utilize the pine- needle for making paper. It becomes apparent that the workmen in the factory, who had been sufferers, are by handling the fibres made well. A learned doctor makes investigation. He discov- ers that the tissue of the leaves of the pine is composed largely of resinous and oily particles with curative properties. He separates the fibres. 2 6 THE PRINCES ISLES. He finds that they resemble cotton or wool. He gives them a new utility. He weaves the wool into underclothing. He establishes a health-cure at Lairitz. He is hailed as a benefactor and is the recipient of many medals. Out of this seeming quackery cometh the pulse-warming underwear which is now working its marvellous results. But, as I found out for my own comfort, it is much bet- ter to inhale this subtle property than to wear it in flannels. And hence my sojourn at Prinkipo. Yet for all that, it cannot be disguised that the beauty of the isle and its social allurements had much to do with separating our home from those of the other Legations which summer on the upper Bosphorus at Therapia and Buyukdere. In glanc- ing over the diary of my wife, I find some para- graphs which describe these attractions. At that time we made the journey under the crescent flag, in the hospitable launch or mouche of our host. The voyage thus depictured allured us hither for our second year in the Orient. Along with some housewifely suggestions it will not be uninterest- ing to the female reader to scan a page or two of this diary : At ten A.M. we are afloat. There is some ques- tion as to the proper flag to sail under. We natu- rally prefer the stars and stripes, but our Capi- tano has already hoisted the crescent and the star, and as our host is of the Sultan's realm, though an FIRST VISIT TO PRINKIPO. 3? American citizen, we acquiesce. Beside, it might be difficult to explain our wishes to the captain or sailors, since all on board are Greeks or Arme- nians except ourselves. We leave the dock at Buyukdere and secure the middle of the stream for the strongest current. It is a little misty toward the opening at the Black Sea, but the waters are indigo. The hills on the Asian shore are seamed and scarred by quarrymen. Out of their rocky sides many ribs have been taken to give life to the city below and the villas and palaces around. Upon the European side the hills are green, in varied shades, from the orange trees in the gardens at the water's edge to the dark umbrella pines above upon the hills and mountains. Here and there are some tints of a pale green. It is a double sign, first of the Ma- hometan color, and next of a Turkish barracks and fort. This is Sunday and all the flags of the Le- gations are flying. Jason's Mountain, tipped with a minaret, has a magic look and a far-away expres- sion. Are these birds, which we see flecking the blue water as if a part of it ? Yes, flocks of the " condemned souls," so called, which never seem to alight. They fly close to the wavelets. A few crows cross the stream without any noise. Some gulls of various species ride like Halcyon on the wave or dart down swiftly after schools of fish which fret the water in dark spots. Porpoises 38 THE PRINCES ISLES. come up and tumble back, enjoying their Sunday out. These are but transient objects, and the eye returns to the curving lines of beauty which the hills make on either shore. We meet many strange, fantastic sails the vessels full of lumber from the Black Sea or fruit for the city market. The palaces of white marble seem to rise out of the blue water. We come to the narrowest place Roumeli Hissar, with its grand old towers and walls. It is a most picturesque spot. It combines with sky, water and land, a well-kept cemetery of the Moslems ever so unique, and antique houses ever so strange, dominated by these towers of Mo- hammed II., above, which are fit associates with the running, clear, potential stream below. Then, above all, we see the Robert College. It is American, as we know. I ask a friend : " What is that long row of twenty white houses, all alike, over in Asia?" " Warehouses for American petroleum." Ah ! if they should take fire at night Edwin Arnold would have to rewrite his " Light of Asia." Now and then the landscape is smirched by the black smoke of passing ferry steamers, which ply up and down and across the Bosphorus. We pass the big boats which under French, British, Russian and Austrian ensigns are going out to breast the waves of the Euxine on their voyages to Trebizonde, the Crimea, Odessa or Varna, for MISHAP ON THE WA Y. ^ cargoes of grain and cattle to supply the millions of mouths in and about the capital. Far off, un- der their guise of misty beauty, lie the mountains of Asia Olympus towering with a double crown ! The day is a choice one as to wind and water. Our chat goes merrily round. The soldiers are drilling at the barracks on the Straits by the sound of the trumpet, the fishermen and venders of veg- etables ply their trade, and the city grows dim and dimmer in the distance. Now a quietude set- tles over our company. Some draw out their books, and others recline on the divans and lazily watch the plashing waves in the wake of this little dapper darling midshipmite of- the sea. But we are nearing our island. Lovely terraces and vine-clad hills greet the eye in every direction. We are closing up packages and gathering shawls and coats, when a sudden cessation in the ma- chinery creates as sudden a surprise. " We are stranded," says our Capitano. Our friend on board immediately lowers the flag to half-mast, and in ten minutes we see a little sail-boat bearing speedily towards us. Our host had seen the mishap. We are soon transferred and landed at the scala, or quay, where in carriages we are rapidly driven to our destination. The gravelled drive to the steps, the warm greetings on the balcony and the chaffing as to cold luncheons, are soon over. We settle down to a most thorough enjoyment of this lovely 40 THE PRINCES ISLES. island home. We are a party of ten, and yet abundant room is found for night entertainment as well as day. The grounds without are terraced to the water's edge. Arbors, fountains, rustic bridges and cool grottoes tempt the straying feet. A lawn- tennis court is ready for its devotees. The caiques lie rocking idly on the water within reach of those romantically inclined. Even a small barca is unloading its generous supply of oats for the stables hard by at this private wharf. The house is large and airy filled with bric-a- brac of every description. I notice one peculiar- ity, similar to our Southern homes ! The " cui- sine " is apart from the house ; but connected there- to by a bridge. I ask the hostess, " What is it ? " She replies : " Oh ! we call that the Bridge of Sighs." I think it is well named, if the mistress has often to entertain as generously as she is doing to-day. To my relief I found out afterward that there was a capable housekeeper on the premises to aid our lady hostess. One thing here strikes an American as peculiar, and yet it is a custom that might well be introduced with us. I refer to the breakfast hour. Each guest descends to the dining-room when he or she may choose, or may ring for coffee in their rooms. As coffee or tea, with eggs and bread, or AN AMERICAN HOME. some kind of confiture, jelly or jam only are given, it is not so difficult to serve one's guests. The custom gives ease and comfort to the lazy ones, and does not interfere with early risers. A drive around the island develops more beauty and shows us the most luxuriant vegetation. As we are lavish in our admiration, our host seems to enjoy our pleasure with us. " And to think," says he, ''it is only four years since, that I took these bare rocks in their savage estate and have thus transformed them. All the growth of tree and shrub is in that four years." It is indeed marvellous. But it belongs to the islands. It is entirely characteristic this lux- urious growth of plants and trees of every clime. " But," I ask our host, " where did you get this beautiful finish of room and hall ? It is not of the Turk Turkish ? It looks more like a home in America." tl Ah ! you are right there," he answers, " for every door, window and floor was imported from the United States." Our host and hostess are citizens of the United States. The orders given in the Turkish lan- guage seem quite musical to the ear, for as yet I have not heard much beyond street cries, which do not seem melodious. All visits must end. The pretty little three- year-old son of the host prattles away ; the young 42 THE PRINCES ISLES. maiden daughter receives our parting adieus, the host and hostess are hospitable with renewed in- vitations, while we can only express our thanks and pleasure for all we have enjoyed. It has been a day of enjoyments unique indeed. The launch brings us safely to the city. Another day has gone by, idling in the Orient, but one rich in delight of sun and wave, sky and atmosphere, and charming entertainment. As I turn my eye to the East, to leave these bluest of waters and skies, " I drag at each remove a lengthening chain." #####*## Would you know how a cosmopolitan thus in- troduced to the Orient settles down into snug quarters at this end of the world ? It is not diffi- cult, after such an experience as the foregoing. At the risk of being tedious I will tell in the next chapter, in my own words, something more of our domesticities. CHAPTER IV. HOME LIFE IN PRINKIPO OUR NEIGHBORS LITTLE GREEKS FISHERMEN AND SONGS. IF our jaded American citizens can race across the continent to the Rockies and Sierras to find the domes of the Yosemite and the geysers of the Yellowstone, or wander amidst the Alps of Switzer- land and the Highlands of Scotland, or sail over the Bay of Naples and through the fiords of Nor- way in search of health and change of scene why may they not venture here, to these " Isles of the Princes ? " They are only a fortnight from New York, or four days from Paris by the Oriental express railroad via Varna to Constanti- nople. A day at Havre or Liverpool, a day at Paris or London, another at Vienna, another at glorious Buda-Pesth, a dash at Varna on the Black Sea, and the next morning, at daylight, you are at Cavak in the Bosphorus. A rest at Stam- boul, arid in another day here you are ! in a villa of your own choosing, or at a hotel where there is every comfort, and where the scenery is unpar- alleled and the air balmy. Appreciating this suggestion, the American citi- 43 44 THE PRINCES ISLES. zen, who pays for his minister abroad, will allow me to make a picture of our new home at Prinkipo. Already many of his compatriots of both sexes have been within its sanctuary. "Ah!" exclaims the travel-tired tourist from Oregon or North Carolina " ah ! what a solace and a joy to see the blessed old banner. No such beautiful ensign have I seen since I left Sandy Hook. God bless the stars and stripes ! It is all the dearer because no longer streaming upon sea or land outside of America." Thus is the loneliness of absence from home relieved by a little color, and a symbol which ever recalls to us our nation's pride and honor. Our house does not rival, nor, indeed, equal by many degrees, the superb chateaux of these fair demesnes, or other mansions wherewithal the isle is decorated ; but for seclusion, scenic prospect and proximity to the pine forests, as well as nearness to Legation work, it is all that the student, the doctor, or the aesthetic could desire. Half way up the mountain, it faces to the sea and the north. From its windows, if one could pierce the mountain range of Asia Minor, there would be seen the olden towers of Roumeli and Anatolia the ancient warders of the Bosphorus. But who would dispense with these beautiful ranges of mountains even for such romantic and historical additions to the view. The highest peak is about fifteen hundred feet. A TERRESTRIAL PARADISE. ,r The range is crescent-shaped, as if emphasizing the national emblem. The foot hills and open vales reach to our Marmoran shore. They are covered with cultivated fields from the Pendik village and Phanar banks near Kadi Keui to the side opposite, far across the Prinkipo channel, which is here over two miles in width. What a view from Stamboul and its minarets to the white houses of San Stefano on the European shore! The Prinkipo channel, along with the isles of our small archipelago, is a lake in seeming. That illusion is kept up as the sea runs south-east- erly into the Gulf of Ismid, making the waters appear enclosed on every side. Along these shores are the remains of empire and commercial greatness. The mountains on this coast close our view. But is not the sea blue here, and the bays and harbors charming enough, without seeking to unroll the endless panorama of land and sea, city and coun- try, towers and mosques, mountains and clouds, which this terrestrial paradise furnishes to the en- chanted eye? Within a mile from our eyrie of observation we can view the waves shimmering in the morning sun and snowy sea birds riding on the deep blue waves. Then the Asian mountains are meshed at dawn in an airy web of many hues ; at noon, behold them radiant in celestial light ; and at eve, see the glow upon them from 46 THE PRINCES ISLES. the west is one unclouded blaze of roseate and im- purpled living light ! I forget our household ! One cannot live upon the whip-syllabub of descriptive scenery, however entrancing the view may be. We found a villa ready to be rented to one who could "house-keep" it neatly. We wei approved as apparently the proper tenants by the owner, an elderly Greek lady of refinement and courtesy. She lets her villa to us as she is about to depart for the summer, to visit relatives in Athens. She leaves it as tidy as any New England dame could wish. In fact, as we alight at her gates about five o'clock in the afternoon they seem to fly open magically, and as we cross the threshold what a charming picture is presented by the little dining-table already prepared for its hungry guests, with its hot, steaming soups, and ttageres and vases all redolent of flowers, spice and fragrance. But how can the masculine pen describe the inner sanctuary of a home ? I call to aid the new house-keeper and from her house-book quote under protest : I said to a friend: " Is this a Greek house?" " Oh, I do not know that you would call it that exactly ; it is a house of the country." Let me then describe this " house of the coun- try " : The tall stone walls and iron grating com- pose the barrier and gateway. They are deco- A HOUSE OF THE COUNTRY. 47 rated with huge pots of hydrangea, in full bloom. The bell-knob hangs at this outer gate. You enter a tessellated plaza before the house. This admits you to the lower rooms, which are the servants' quarters. As the house stands on the side- hill, to find the front entrance you turn to the right and ascend the white marble steps. These steps are kept immaculate by Michealis, our bright factotum. Here the high portico offers the main entrance. A summer arbor covered with that house-decorating plant, the wistaria, reminds us of home, and graces the terrace. Above it waves our own red, white and blue bunting, for which Admiral Woods Pasha, a neighbor, has already kindly provided a lofty staff. Some sym- metrical fir-trees, a fountain with gold-fishes play- ing in the basin, and the garden in miniature, com- plete the terrace of the entrance. The black and white pebble-stones set on edge after the Pompeian manner, form fanciful designs of flower and foliage in the pavement which extends around the house. The tessellated walks remind us of the harem gardens of Cairo and the deserted earthquaken streets of Chios. A huge catalpa and a drooping willow adorn the kitchen court. The steps to the upper terraces are lined with fuchsia, geranium, snow-white jasmine, verbena and other gay flower- ing plants, while the terraces are fringed with lemon and orange trees, whose golden fruit would 4 8 THE PRINCES ISLES. have tempted Adam as well as Eve. It is quite beautiful to see the fruit and flowers at the same time upon these trees. They give present odor and promise for the future, even though we may not be the happy recipients of their favors. Enter the house and you are at once in a large square hall. This serves in summer-time as the general social room of the family. On the left and right are four large rooms. In some of the more palatial houses of the isle the entrance- hall includes two such end rooms, thus making one large airy apartment. Upon the ground floor we find a library and dining-room, both green and beautiful with foliage and flower. Folding glass doors at the end of the hall may be closed for winter or left open for summer. In either case, they reveal the stairway which leads to an equally open and airy hall above, supplied with wide divans in addition to other furnishings. The bow-window here extends over the portico. It makes an exceedingly attractive lounging or smoking room. In the cities of the East it is the practice to build this bow-window projecting over the street below, and at four or five o'clock in the afternoon, it is always occupied by a merry group taking tea, sweets, fruit, or Turkish coffee. Here they receive visitors or survey the outside world of gay promenaders, and make laughing comments on all that meets the eye. VEGETABLE VENDERS. ^ We are happy in finding our island home far up in the pure, dry air of the mountain amidst the forests of pine. Every room has the indispensa- ble divan ; and from the windows we have the ever lovely views of the Sea of Marmora and the Asian land, with their never tiring and ever changing phases. Even now, at the outset of our experi- ence, we have oranges, figs, and many vegetables from the gardens above, which are included in our leasehold. It is amusing to hear the juvenile street venders call out in their long drawling falsetto some of these vegetables. The simple word bamia, be- comes ba-ha-mi-a-a-ah ! This vegetable is a nov- elty to us. It is not among our American prod- ucts ; but it proves to be relishable. All vegeta- bles and goods are " cried " before sold. They come to your door on the numerous donkeys that throng the island, or on the backs of the peddlers who carry great show-cases of their wares. The cries of the venders are monotonous, but they are often varied by the recitation of some blind strolling beggar. The latter goes his customary rounds and enlivens the intense quietude of our surround- ings by his plaintive appeal, in some verse of the Koran inculcating charity. I must say that he merits some reward, if it is only for his forbear- ance to ring the area-bell, with which our street mendicants of New York are all too familiar. 50 THE PRINCES ISLES. Our gardener comes to us daily with his floral offering for the table. There is always efflores- cence enough for change and variety. This morn- ing, for instance, Xenophon's bouquet consists of the snow-white, sweet-scented jasmine. He looks quite pleased when I compliment its beauty and his taste. I ask to see his manner of arranging the flowers. He has cut a pine branch with its needles, and each tiny blossom is strung on each needle point, thus saving the ravages of the scis- sors on the plant, and making a neat cluster bouquet in quicker time than our laborious gar- deners with their broom-stick stems could rival. Thus far you have been favored with a glance into the diary of the newly inaugurated mistress of the house. It may be interesting to know upon what we Greco-Americans subsist for food. Our milk and butter come cheaply enough. They come across the channel from Asia, from the fine farms upon the slopes of the distant mountains. These farms are in sight. They are rich in fruit as well as in kine. We were told that we should find one treas- ure in our Greek home a goat. For awhile we tried our domestic sheep's and goats' milk. Bah ! There is nothing like the original cow. There lies before me, in the shape of a foot-long pine stick, our milk account ! It is marked with many ORIENTAL BOOK-KEEPING. $ l notches. On it my wife has written " 56 oks." An ok is about two and a-half pounds, or in liquid about a quart. The month's account is on the stick. This is not an original plan of keeping ac- counts. It is aboriginal in many lands. It struck us as convenient and honest ; and when rendered, there was no need of calling in arbitration. The amount due at the end of the month was summed up in notches and piasters. The caiques, which whiten with their sails our lake-like sea, bring to our docks the finest melons of every variety. Among them is our nutmeg ; but the best is the cassova. Its color within is golden and its meat honey, with a dash of musk and spice. Grapes soon begin to adorn Our table. They are of various kinds ; but there is one peer- less kind. No fruit has ever been grown upon other parts of the earth equal to the fruit which September welcomes here, chief of which is the grape known as tchaouch uzum. While Europe and America may excel in pears, apples and plums, Asia has the most delicious fruit of royal clusters. The tchaouch is of pure gold and of plum-like size and rotundity. Its very pronunciation makes the mouth moisten. The hills around Tcham Lidja, where these grapes grow, are the Mecca of crowds of the lovers of this Bacchanalian fruit. Here the harem makes its visit, breakfasting on these grapes and bread. Sometimes this exquisite 52 THE PRINCES ISLES. fruit is dried for winter use, but generally it is too rich to be spoiled in that way. Amber is not more beautiful in color. The cluster is very large and weighty. It seems bursting with a. fruity bloom and gives such aroma and flavor that the bees fol- low it into the very penetralia of our salle a man- ger. This luscious vintage inspires poetic fancies, even before it is trodden in the wine-press " Less fragrant scents the unfolding rose exhales." Peaches, plums, apricots and nectarines make up a picture for the table as well as a feast for the epicure. For meats, we have lamb and mutton, beef and chickens ; for vegetables, there are varie- ties not known to the cuisine of the West, among which is the damia, only not our bean, but more unctuous and toothsome than the marrow-fat pea. What could we wish for beside ? Fish ? Yes, the Propontis is the resting-place of the " fishy Bos- phorus," as it was called in ancient days. It is the home of the fish called the mullet, as well also of the turbot and the mackerel, and a dainty, shining, nameless little beauty, quite delicate even without sauce. These disportively abound. The fishing with hook and line is spoiled by the nets which one sees actively employed at all hours, and wherever the shelving, pebbly shores and eddies invite. Indeed, the isles are surrounded with fishers' nets. You may see their high poles standing in the bays, and PEDDLER OF MEATS. THE 'TALLIEN FISH TOWERS. ^ a platform or lookout attached, where a fisherman watches for the schools late into the night. These nets are placed so as to catch the current, and as the water is clear it is easy for the experienced eye of the watchman to see when the fish enter the net. He then pulls the string and the finny fel- lows are entrapped. These platforms, or watch- towers, are seen on the upper Bosphorus as well as here. They are called "Talliens." This is a corruption of the word " Italians," as that race were the first fishermen here to use this peculiar tower of observation. We often fish in another mode, in company with these Zebedees. When the caique is sufficiently far out from shore, they throw out one end of the net, this end being buoyed up by a cork or gourd; and then, after the boat has described a circle, they throw quantities of stones into the water within it, stones which they always carry in the boat for this purpose. These startle the fish from their quiet depths, and drive them swimming hither and thither, and thus they are more than likely to be ensnared. Fish, like our milk, meats and vege- tables, are brought to our door, and are less costly than in America. From the fishermen of Judea the world has learned much. The Greek fishers who convey us about these isles are not picturesque, nor statu- esque, but they are Hellenic in many ways, and 54 THE PRINCES ISLES. chiefly in their worship of the waters. As they sit on the sandy beaches carolling their weird songs and mending their nets, they bring to memory the apostolic employment. They are both classic and biblical. What boatmen, what fishermen, what male nereides these Greeks are ! How deftly they ply the oar ! how neatly they untie a string or fix a hook ! with what taste they arrange the fish when caught ! For example : " I go afishing " with old Nicholi on the east side of the island ; we catch about fifty of all kinds, including some rouget. These rougets are dainties fit for Lucullus. They are worth, in the parlance here, twenty-five piasters per ok. A piaster is nearly five cents and an ok between two and three pounds. In arranging them in the basket, Nicholi turns up their heads and lays out their tails, so as to make gold and silver radii. The big shiny fish are the centre, they form the hub. Then with a stick he strips the scales from the rouget. The rouget immediately blushes a rich crimson, at the indignity of this disrobing. Then he arranges the colors so as to make every other spoke in the radiant " mess " fiery with the red hue. Is this the result of that inborn love for the beautiful which is Grecian ? When the army of Xenophon on its famous re- treat reached these very waters, their inborn love of Neptune's element burst forth in shouts of joy THE TWO XENOPHONS. ^ -" Thalassa ! Thalassa ! "The sea ! The sea ! I get this not from Xenophon my gardener, but from old Anabasis himself, who reposes on the shelf of the library. The Greeks still love the sea. Not to speak of pirates who used to infest the archipelago, one need only look at the inimitable big sailing ships which plough toward the Euxine, after their own peculiar golden fleece, which is horned cattle and grain from Russia, to appreciate their spirit of marine adventure. With their isles and coast lines how could they do otherwise than love the water ? They had fountains which were sacred to their genii. Was not Arethusa the nymph who, when chased by her lover, turned into a fountain ? Diana changed her, chaste goddess that she was ! Water was ever sacred to her. It is the emblem of purity in the East. The rivers of the earth are the children of Oceanus and his sister, besides having three thousand oceanides little ones of the sea. Mauray must have descended from the Greeks of Maronia, to have discerned the thou- sand streams and currents in the bosom of the deep. When Peleus would dedicate a lock of Achilles' hair, he bore it to the river Sporcheios. Peleus was a relative of Neptune and the father of the irascible hero of Homer. The Pulians sacrificed a bull to Alpheios, which was a river of Peloponnesus. It had a knack of running under ground, very tj 6 TflE PRINCES ISLES. near the scenes of classic Olympus. It excited mystery and devotion. Spenser, in his " Faerie Queen," makes some rare stanzas about a congre- gation of the rivers of Britain. He copies the pict- ure from Themis, the goddess of law and justice the first personification of a virtue who summoned the streams of Greece to a great Olympian Legis- lature I suppose, for improvement and appropri- ations. Oceanus and the fountains were regarded as divinities. How much the people of a dry land like Greece must have appreciated streams ! Mr. Gladstone in his "Juventus Mundi," regarded this water worship of the Greek as coming from a different race; but Sir John Lubbock, who is bet- ter authority on this point than Gladstone, says that this water worship was only an earlier stage of the development of Grecian mythology. The question is likely to occur to the reader : " How do you get along with your household and neighbors as to language ? Do you speak ancient Greek, and will that answer for modern uses ?" Let me rise to a personal explanation. Mr. Speaker ! Ah ! Oh ! I beg pardon, Ladies and gentlemen : There are two kinds of language spoken by the modern Greek. One is called the Nooheknia. It is the regeneration of the ancient language, and is said to be the more classical and elegant of the MODERN AND ANCIENT GREEK. ^ two. It is called " regenerated" because it differs from the other Romaic. The regeneration of this language is supposed, in part, to be the elim- ination of all Turkish words and phrases. As a vehicle of thought it is growing rapidly ; but it is very unlike the ancient Greek, except in its printed form. It is more or less tinctured with the French in .its modes of expression. Hearing it spoken in the theatre at Constantinople, I have been struck with its vivacious turns of expression. That it is capable of great eloquence, tenderness and music I do not doubt. In the provinces where Greek is spoken it is said to be very difficult for the peasants to understand a Greek newspaper; while in Athens among the dlite, the most ordinary word familiar to the provinces is unintel- ligible. It is said by one who is conversant with these dialects that the younger Athenians of to- day would have greater difficulty in communi- cating with the Greek peasants or fishermen in Turkey, or even in Greece, than with foreigners possessing a superficial knowledge acquired in the mountain districts. Judging by certain plays which I have seen per- formed in the modern Greek language, I think the sense of pathos is more predominant in that language than humor, although there is a close alliance between the two. As one not unobserv- ant of humor, I may be allowed to say that the ^g THE PRINCES ISLES. Greek has it, but not in the refinement, which is one of the last or highest reaches of civilization. The Greeks are not wanting in broad fun. There is much amusement in their ballads. They have a quickness or vivacity somewhat like the French or Irish, which is the spirit of witty retort ; but of that kind of humor or wit which sees the incon- gruity of things there is not much trace in their nature. This may be accounted for by the condi- tion of the people, living as they do in a state of insecurity, and their experiences tending toward the lugubrious. And yet, like the Irish, the Greeks, with all their disappointments and oppressions, are not wanting in a sense of that liveliness which is the source as well of poetry as of humor. Their every-day language bears the same relation to the written modern Greek language as the Saxon did to the Norman, or the Turkish to the Arabic. As for understanding the special Greek/tftoV of these isles, we do not dare to begin its study. A few words of daily use at the table or about the house are all that we need, as our own servants, Pedro, the Dalmatian Slav, and Marie, the Arme- nian maid, both speak the modern Greek in its simplicity, as well as the Turkish language. Who and what are our neighbors ? They live along the road and up the mountain side. They too are Greeks. All make courtesy to us. From the day we enter our green-grilled gate to the pres- LOCAL COUR TES Y IN GREE TINGS. c g ent writing, there is the uniform bow and salutation, " Kale mare ! " Good day ! or " Kale spero ! " Good evening ! It is pleasant to receive salutation from the children. It puts one's politeness to its best vigilance, as the children are plentiful. Our three nearest households have between them eighteen ! Had I come to Prinkipo when younger, say three decades ago, nothing but my sex could have stopped my maternal instincts. The isle is cele- brated in that respect. These little Greeks bear grand classic names. Let them be perpetuated. Some few have ecclesiastical names, but the classics are in the majority. If I had to canvass Prinkipo for Congress, I would first cultivate the classics, then orthodoxy. For every Michael there are two Herodotuses ; for every Antonio, two Lycurguses ; for every Nicholas, two Pisistratuses. The Marys are plentiful, but the Helens are more so. The equivocal reputation of Aspasia has not pre- vented many namesakes. Our femme de chambre is called Theano ! One of the fishermen is called Phaon, from that jolly mariner or ferryman of Lesbos, with whom Sappho fell in love before she fell into the sea. How sad ! Her love was unre- quited. Our gardener rejoices in the name Xeno- phon. He is neither historian nor philosopher, and he never heard of Socrates. In fact, he had never heard of his own great namesake. My wife said to him one day : " Did you ever hear of your an- 60 THE PRINCES ISLES. cestor Xenophon, who was not only a handsome soldier but a great writer many hundred years before Christ ? " He smiles, ponders a little and .with a slight play of fancy, as if he thought the madame were humorous, says : " I know no such man ; but I know Xennie, who carries water to our garden." And this was the nickname for the pupil of Soc- rates, the historian, and soul of the Anabasis ! This is the pet name of the hero who twenty-three hundred years before, had visited Byzantium, after his famous retreat over rough lands for fifteen months, making 1155 parasangs. In one thing our gardener resembles his namesake. He has that simplicity of style which was the relief of my cal- low college days, and an integrity of character worthy of Socratic teaching. One does not enjoy his beef less because his butcher is called Pausanius, or his beans more because his gardener is called Xenophon. Nor do we enjoy our ice-cream, fruits, music, or the little courtesies of the isle the less, because they come to us upon the hills of Prinkipo tendered by An- astasia and Euphrosyne ; or depreciate our pur- chases because Demetrius and Theodosius stand sponsor for the wares which they peddle along the highways of the isle. Our cook is named Kat- arina. Is it a German name? No: it is Greek. She has been cook in the family from whom we ICE-CREAM PEDDLER. GREEK RELICS. rent for thirty years. They call her Amty, which is modern Greek, I suppose, for " Aunty." Thus our South is reproduced with its nomenclature. Of the children who play around our house in the alley above and in the valley below, you may read their names in the Odyssey or in Mitford ; or, call the roll of the Amphictyonic Congress, and they will not be absent, like so many of our American Solons, when their names are called. While musing upon the various names which are rich in classic and historic lore, I pick up a volume which is a part of my diversion occasion- ally. It is that of a literary tourist, travelling in the neighborhood of Athens. He is repeating, of course, some of Childe Harold's exclamations about " Fair Greece ! " sad relic of departed worth, immortal, though no more ! when he is tapped familiarly on the back by a so-called son of modern Athens, very likely a composite of Dal- matian, Saracen, German, French and Italian. This Athenian speaks to him in the vilest French. He points out, at the entrance of the harbor of the Piraeus, the tomb of Themistocles, saying: " Voila! the tomb of our greatest man!" The tourist thanks him, and asks him for his card. " I am," said he, Miltiades." The tourist starts back. " What ! " The stranger smiles a savage grin and says : 62 THE PRINCES ISLES. " At your service." "Who are you?" I inquire. 11 A laquais de place" he replies. " Is it possible ! the hero of Marathon so re- duced ! " Oh !" says he, " I knew them all." " Who all?" I ask. " Those poor gentlemen of Marathon." He confesses this tourist that his dream of Grecian beauty and greatness is over ; but that is the hard English way of looking at the world. The sports of children are typical of their lives. Even bankers' sons fly many-colored kites, and fly them skilfully, as their fathers do on the bourses of Europe. The little urchins in our vicinity are histrionically inclined inchoate Sopho- cleses and ^Eschyluses. They play house-keeping and horse, and occasionally have a Greek funeral, with priest, corpse and pall-bearers. They show their classic heredity, for they are running over with dramatic mimicry. The other day the children were much excited. They gathered on the hill side in front of our house, and began to clear away the pine needles and cones to make a smooth floor for a restaurant, or Diaskalon. Ropes were extended, upon which hung from the trees in colored papers the flags of the different nations. BLESSING THE GRAPE. 5^ u What are they doing?" we inquire of our domestics. " Oh, Excellency, it is a fete day among the Orthodox." The children had caught the contagion. They are copying the caffantes on the mountains, whither to-day streams of pious Greeks are wending. "Why this fete?" we ask. " Excellency, it is the beginning of the grape season." The people of the isle gather at the monastery and church of Christos, above, where the good Papa has baskets of the succulent vintage, in rich golden and purple clusters. These are blessed, and each person comes up to the altar and re- ceives one of the blessed bunches. Is this one of the Pagan rites which the ortho- dox Greek covers with a thin veneering of Chris- tianity ? If so, is it so very bad to be a little Paganistic ? Indeed, it savors of the " first good and first fair," and deserves to be celebrated ; as much so as our Thanksgiving, with its turkey roast and pumpkin rites. Between our point of view at the villa and the sea, there is nothing to interrupt the vision. We over- look the eastern end of the elder village by the shore. Immediately on the east is a Swiss valley. It is Swiss in its depth and picturesqueness. In 64 THE PRINCES ISLES. its' hollow are a few cottages, and on its sides some villas. This vale is a mile long, and runs up to the middle depression of the island. It is covered by a vineyard, interspersed with fig-trees now bearing fruit; and rich in their large fresh green leaves. Olive trees here and there silver the scene, and mingle with the few stately cypresses, once marking tombs which are now lost in the cultivation and changes of the soil. Out of this valley there comes tripping a little fairy of the vineyard and fig-tree. She is singing a song whose evanescent music, with its quavers and turns, none but a Greek girl can master. Her mother is a donkey proprietress, and she allows her pet to salute our flag and its interterri- toriality with her favorite roundelay. This little one is my nearest neighbor. When I walk up through the groves and take my place, with a book, upon the circular stone seat under the umbrage of the pine trees, " midway up the mount," I hear her voice from the valley gradually nearing, until that voice becomes em- bodied, as she stands half panting with her race up the acclivity, yet trilling her " Pipini " roundelay ! I insert a translation and notation of this popular song and its melody ; * but the donkey queen will not allow me to transport to a New Atlantis her little Prinkipo princess. * See pages 66 and 67. GREEK FOLK LORE. It is very touching to see how, from lip to lip, simple verses like these will awaken a whole pop- ulation to the influences of music in its quick anfl vivacious expression. With the simplicity of a primeval ballad, the " Mother Goose " melody con- quers all tongues and hearts. Another of these peculiar melodies or poems re- minds me of the ballads which are sung in the nursery. I cannot translate it, for I do not under- stand the original. The burden of the song is about an old man who keeps a cock, which wakes the lonely old man. A fox comes by and wakes the cock which waked the lonely old man. Then a dog comes along; it killed the fox that ate the cock that crowed and waked the lonely old man. And so on, until the log falls down and kills the dog, and the furnace burns the log, and a river quenches the furnace, and an ox drinks up the river, and a wolf eats the ox, and a shepherd kills the wolf, and at last the plague carries off the shepherd who killed the wolf, that ate the ox, that drank up the river, that quenched the furnace, that burned the log, that killed the dog, that ate the fox, that ate the cock, that crowed and waked the lonely old man ! Something after this manner is not unfamiliar to the little ones of all lands. There is a folk lore among the Greek peasantry, which has its moralities, and this is assimilated in s 66 THE PRINCES ISLES. THE BIRD SONG. ct T6 native." The little bird that I loved, that I still adore- Little birdie, my darling ; For thee, birdie, I'm sighing. The little dear bird has fled and will return no more Come back, birdie, my darling, Oh ! where are you flying ? Oh ! cruel birdie ! Oh ! come back, before it is too late. Little birdie, my dear ; My prayer won't you hear? Return, my pretty bird, to me, seek not a better fate ; Come back, birdie, my dear, For thy fate I fear ! You have, birdie, my heart ; it has for long been thine, Birdie, my heart you carry: To come back, oh ! do not tarry. Return me, birdie, thine heart and come to nestle in mine. Come back, birdie, come back, darling, For thee, birdie, I'm sighing. THE BIRD SONG. tc To 77flriw." m :tfc=J=t* =Ef .pr .. r ff F^*- ~ (* -. ~f ~<* > ~~n~'i* y \~f i* ^ P g 67 68 THE PRINCES ISLES. \ many ways with that of the Orient. Of course it is more or less influenced by magic, and hence it is Persian, or Arabic. It has in it a whole circus of interjected horses, and bevies of maidens in wilder- nesses or in shipwrecks. It is full of wicked sub- ject matters, but everywhere it is replete with the marvellous. The myths of ancient Greece or the Sagas of Norseland are not more pene- trated with the supernatural than are the bal- lads and fables in the modern Greek language. Many of these fables and stories are the same which we hear repeated in our own tongue. They are, in other forms, the substance of Uncle Remus' stories of the fauna of our own woods ; and these stories have an Oriental flavor, which came to the original Guinea or Congo slave when the religion of Mahomet spread through the Dark Continent to these unhappy exiles of our ante-revolutionary years. CHAPTER V. PRINKIPO ITS GARDENS AND VILLAS. How is the island watered ? For so fruitful a spot, it must have water. There is some dew, and that refreshes the vines, which are in great abundance. The vine does not seem to need showers, for in summer there are none worth not- ing. Wells of water are dug, and the Egyptian mode of pumping by ox, horse or man power is resorted to in the best places. On the east and west sides, where the isle is lowest and the gardens of melons and vegetables are many, the water is drawn by hand. We start with full cis- terns, but these do not hold out long, and we are soon obliged to join the numberless households around us who live by this locomotive irrigation. Twice a day the picturesque scene presents itself at our garden gate Antonius and his four pet donkey companions, with their surroundings and not unmusical voices. The gold-fishes must live .in the fountain and the flowers must flourish on the terraces. Ergo, the cistern and fountain must be supplied. And Xenophon, like his great name- sake, must work on a great scale, and so, with 69 JQ THE PRINCES ISLES. lavish hand he distributes to his cherished wards that which costs him nothing and which gives them beauty and fragrance. But where are the beautiful lawns of other lands ? Where the fresh green grass to cool the hot air and relieve the eye ? These are not. The grass will not grow at all on this island. Under the pine trees the needles are so thickly strewn that they pave the ground and make the walks quite slippery. The shrubbery is of a larger vari- ety than elsewhere. It reminds me of the fragrant machieoi Corsica, of which Napoleon said, that he <( could shut his eyes and smell it," when he was a prisoner in far off St. Helena. Nearly all of the islands are covered by this shrubbery, where the trees and rocks permit. It is a sort of heather. I see the women and men folk gathering it for "yarbes," as its roots are medicinal. There is a quasi grass grown here, perhaps quite as pretty as our grass. It is called Lepia. Whether this is the right spelling or not, I do not know. Whether it be derived from lepits, a hare, which feeds on it ; or lepas, a shell-fish ; or lepidics, pleasant it makes no difference, so long as it makes a pleasant lawn, whether for rabbit or barnacle. It is very petite and delicate, and of a pinkish white in color. Upon its tiny petals the bees and other honey-suckers buzz all day long. Butterflies of gorgeous hues and large size WATER-CARRIERS. A FAMOUS EPICAL GARDEN. ^ vie with the tiny humming-birds of purple tint which invade our garden. This quasi grass can be shaven, and then it makes a pleasant lawn, but in so doing the little fragrant flower must fall with the gardener's knife for awhile, until the new blos- soms come again. It forms a very attractive addition to the parterres of these island homes. Our villa is a miniature compared with the su- perb villas which line the lofty terraces by the sea- shore, and within whose enclosures the tamarind, magnolia and oleander flourish. The best houses are roofed with red tiles. They are gay with ve- randas and covered with creepers. They are either pink, white or yellow with fresh paint. Every- where embowered, they make pictures worthy of the Greek gardens of Antinous. It is neither pedantry nor exaggeration to com- pare these island villas to the classic garden of Homer's Alcinous in the Phseacian Isle (Corfu), where that "much experienced," wise old man, Ulysses, was harbored for a season. To be prosy, let me make an inventory of that famous epical garden : It has four acres , edged with green, and tall trees, cypresses, we suppose. There are red- dening apples, ripening to gold ; blue, luscious figs ; red pomegranates ; heavy pears, and perenni- ally verdant olives. Whenever one fruit drops, another takes its place. The seasons are so mild that blooms, buds and fruit appear together. The 72 THE PRINCES ISLES. vines are ranked in order, some fit to pluck, some to make raisins, and some for wine. While some are in flower, others are in grape. Some are just coloring and some are purple with autumn. Beds of herbs are ever green. Fountains shake their silver in the sun. Streams abound as visitors to the roots of the plants, and pipes with water con- nect with palace and city. All this, and more, is here, with proper hydro- statics and irrigation, in the palatial gardens of Prinkipo. There are windmills, colored like Iris, perpetually pumping, with a grateful sea breeze as the motor. The breeze is a good worker and sel- dom " strikes," except for a few summer days. Attached to house, stable and office are mystic lines for telegraph and telephone, which deep. browed Homer never vouchsafed to his heroes or gods, with all their lording over lightning and thundering oratory from Olympus. There is one house here upon the island which has on the outside, what most mansions have within, viz. : exquisite colored tiles. This is very unique. Its doors, porticoes and windows are richly gilded and gracefully carved. It is but a cottage, but it ever excites comment and admira- tion, followed by the exclamation : "Why does an old bachelor keep so much of beauty to himself, instead of sharing it with a wife ? " Many years ago this isle was thickly peopled. AN ENTERPRISING MALTESE. ^ The people disappeared and the isle became a waste, remaining thus until only a few short years ago. It was a mountain of pine trees in a land denuded of other vegetation. Like all such places, it had to have a pioneer. Out of his enterprise, within a half century, Prinkipo has become a second garden of Eden. His name will be per- petuated, for the first hotel of the island is named after him, though it is located back and above that of Signora Calypso, of the Homeric epic. Signer Giacomo started early here. He kept goats and loved America. He was a Maltese. That means that he was more or less of a mixed race. Doubt- less he was mostly Italian. He was a devout Cath- olic. He came to these waters of the East a little ragged, sailor imp. He was employed at a store in Galata. There is a Maltese street there yet, and through its fragrant purlieu I often ride, but seldom walk. I hurriedly go through this rueful rue, where Limburger cheese exchanges its odor with herring, and onions help assafcetida to dilate the nostril, ad unco naso. After Giacomo's successes at Galata, he came here and constructed houses around his own larger house, and upon terraced plateaux that rose in loveliness to the mountain top. He decorated his terraces with a profusion of his favorite white roses, whose fragrance was wafted far out at sea ; thus in some manner, as it were, compensating in -4 THE PRINCES ISLES. his opulent days for the infragrance of his work in the time of youthful poverty. What forty years ago was " Giacomo's Delight " is now no more. It is gone ; but the Giacomo Hotel with its pretty terraces survives. It overlooks its rival, " The Ca- lypso : " so, when Greek meets Maltese there is a tug. Giacomo had a wife. She loved him and music passing well ; but the island or her talent did not furnish as much music as her husband did diamonds for her adornment. So she bought a barrel organ, and turned the handle. Handel would have turned in his tomb if he had heard it. The husband cultivated plants and statues. She looked after the barrel organ and ironing. When he came home and hung up his broad-brimmed hat over a plaster cast of Diana, she quit her laun- dry and took to Handel. He, Giacomo, had a gun. Quails filled his larder, and the gun seldom hung at rest near the statue of the divine hunt- ress. With due regard for the religious cultiva- tion of his own household and his neighbors' he caused a church to be built. He made a very happy speech in its honor on the opening of its doors to the Catholic community. It was the first Catholic church on this isle. As I pass the hotel bearing his name, I take off my hat. Why not ? Giacomo loved America. I wander over the terraces, among the umbrageous, gravelled walks so cleanly kept. I receive the THE HOME OF CALYPSO. ^ greetings of mine host of " The Giacomo," who proves to be a brother of mine host of the " Hotel Royal," our winter home at Constantinople. He bears the Greek patronym of Logothetti or " word bearer." Everywhere upon these isles we are reminded of our classics, and of Homer especially. "Ca- lypso " carries us back not merely to our college days, but four thousand years. There has been much discussion between geog- raphers and other learned men, as to which one of the Grecian islands was inhabited by Calypso. Some have supposed the Island of Fano was the fateful isle. This has been denied strenuously, for it is admitted that there is nothing very attrac- tive about that rocky island. An American in passing by it, called it a " darned spot, only good for sharpening a slate pencil." Still the classic books generally regard Fano as the old Ogygia. The argument to prove that this unpronounceable and unmusical Greek island was that of the allur- ing Calypso, is its position. It lies between the south of Italy and Corfu, in the middle of the channel which leads into the Adriatic. Another argument, quite weak, however, is the fact that Ulysses took twenty-one days to get from Ogygia to Corfu. To know whether this was or was not good sailing, one should make inquiry as to the kind of vessel he sailed in, and the kind of weather 76 THE PRINCES ISLES. he had. According to Homer, Ggygia, where resided the beautiful-haired goddess, was supposed to be \henombril of the sea, dp.pa.Xbs QojAoor^ just as Delphi was called by the Greeks the navel of the earth. Calypso, as we know, was the daughter of Oceanus ; and Oceanus was a river-god, and ac- cording to a correct knowledge of our rotund star, whose roundness Herodotus laughed at, the river was supposed to flow swiftly around the earth. One thing, however, is proven by a learned pun- dit, and that is that this island of Calypso occu- pied a prominent position between Cadiz and Troy. This is as much as to say that the town of Kalamazoo is situated somewhere between San Francisco and Boston. Pliny has something to say about this remarkable island. He asserts that it was not far from Cape Colonna, at the entrance of the Gulf of Tarento. There is nothing against this learned supposition, except that no such island can now be found on the charts. However, it is not unusual in the Mediterranean for an island to pop up in the day, and pop under over night. In fact, the island may be nothing but a myth ; but the myths of Homer, to one who lives upon a Grecian island, become so real that we forget they are mythological. Here, we regard his heroes, divinities and localities as real personages and solid facts. Especially are they so regarded when SUMMER KIOSKS. ^ such a substantial and festive modern Greek tav- ern is called " The Calypso." The gardens around many of the more splendid edifices of Prinkipo extend down to the grotesque rocks on the shore, upon which hang, in quaint style, summer kiosks, or bath houses. Nearly all the ele- gant houses have in the corners of their grounds summer houses, where in the evening or after dinner the family gathers and visitors are wel- comed, and where tea and coffee are served. At the scala, or on the verandas, or in these kiosks, you may observe the consummate charms of this isle. Murray, in his hand-book, says of Prinkipo : " The air is mild and healthy, and the heat in summer by no means so oppressive as at Constantinople ; and the women are said to be the most beautiful in the world." This last sentence shall be the text of a chapter by itself, dedicated to the beauties of the isle. CHAPTER VI. PRINKIPO NO RUNNING WATER STRANGE NOISES THE VOCIFEROUS DONKEY THE BIRDS. THE traveller to the Arctics notes the glory of the aurora borealis, the stupendous glaciers, the superb fiords, and sublime mountains ; but he notes also the absence of running water. With- out this element of beauty, no landscape, however grand, is perfect. Even in the upper Alps, where the tintinnabulation of the sheep-bells is faint, and the torrents give only a murmur from below, the eye tires of the frozen rigidity of all within its range. Here, on these isles, there is this draw- back ; yet running water is not missed so much, as nature supplies so many other beauties. No brooklet here sings between osiers and alders ; no mountain stream bounds between crags and over boulders, making motion and music. Along the mountain sides we perceive long lines and piles of broken stones. What are they ? The debris, or moraines, left by torrents of a past age ? Are these the relics of a once watery way, or are they the ground-rubble of a glacial age ? It was some time before my unscientific mindre- 78 WATERS OF CELESTIAL BLUE. ^ sponded to these queries. Pedro, whose very name signifies a rock, inclined me to the opinion that they were the once gathered yet now scattered re- mains of boundary walls, when Prinkipo was in the height of her refinement and culture. What have we to do with such puzzles here ? Have we not the magic climate, the narrow girth which confines the essential beauty, the atmospheric tints which color the mountain features, beautiful flow- ers in cultivated gardens, refreshing nooks under the umbrage of pine, olive, oak and fig, groves of endless variety, gray stones and moss-covered rocks, shrubbery whose fragrance sweetens the sense, and a shore whose indentations remind one of Prospero's isle, where the lover may load the air with sighs in the " odd' angle of the isle ? " All these we have ; but alas ! no running streams, no tinkling fountains with thin sheafs of prismatic silver, and no lakes and cascades to give the isle more melody. But we have sea water of the love- liest tint the celestial hue of blue. Should not that of itself suffice ? The ancient Greeks made much out of their restricted water privileges. What classic, historic and poetic splendors sur- round the rivulets of Cephissus and Ilissus ! They were monstered into wonders. They had nymphs and naiads innumerable. The Missouris and Danubes, Amazons and Rio Grandes are as 8o THE PRINCES ISLES. nothing comparable to the Scamander of Troy. What will not genius expand and fancy glorify ! If the aqueous sterility of Greece conduced to its greatness, what will be said of the aggrandizement of America, with its Ohio, Hudson and Mississippi, its lakes and its gulfs, its Atlantic and Pacific ? The voices of the isle are numerous. In such a secluded spot, even the hum of a bee is noticed. When the north-west wind comes to make its streaks of shadow and its dimples of beauty on the sea, the sighing thereof is soft-noted ; and when evening comes, and the sun with a ruddy, violet haze makes charming silhouettes out of the nine isles of the archipelago, the wind begins to play on its piney keys, with an autumnal solemn sound, like that of a rich-toned organ. In its pauses you sometimes hear the sonorous tremolo of the train across the channel in Asia, as it rumbles along the railroad between Hadji-Ali and Ismid, and sweeps the chords of another age and civilization. In the evening, as we pass the venerable church of Chris- tos, we hear the chants of the parish Emphemerios. They sound as if half hushed within a sepulchre, like the service for the dead, with its piteous Kyrie Eleison ; Christ^ Bodtheson. Breaking in on the solemnity comes the pertinacious, shrill, rasping monotone of the cicada. This insect is as old as Homer. He likens it to a piping old man whose voice is thinned by age. He describes it as be- THE ASIATIC CHANTICLEER. 3 r longing to a bloodless race, which in summer days " rejoice with feeble voice." This insect, from the midst of the isle, and by the sounding shore, sends up its scrannel piping through the pines of the Diaskalon to arouse the monks of Christos for their matins. The very roosters of old Asia, across the channel, respond in greetings to the god of day and the isles of the sea. These cocks act as if they were the chartered libertines of the East, because nearest the auroral gate. Thus nature salutes the sacred sun, as through Heaven's portals he blazes to give the cheering ray and golden day. This sentiment is Homeric ; but the chanticleer has become a sign and clarion of patriotism ; for his voice arouses our Dalmatian serviteur, who prepares to raise our flag upon its staff to continue the salute. Along with the domestic flap of our neighbors' fowls, I can hear from my open window the patriotic flap of our bunting, as I sink off again in dreams of home. This grasshopper, alias locust, alias katydid, or alias cicada, is a sign of dry weather. In these Greek isles, as in Cyprus, Necessity has taxed her maternal solicitude to find some mode for its de- struction. It spoils the crops. I do not know that it is so destructive on these as on other isl- ands, but it is very numerous, and it must live on something green. Hence, there is much con- 6 g 2 THE PRINCES ISLES. cern about the cicada. Judging by the sound, it is as dry as a militia regiment on a muster day. Some one is it Tennyson ? generalizes by say- ing : " At eve, a dry cicala sung." Cicala is Italian for katydid, grasshopper or cicada. The latter is the scientific term. Cicala philologically indicates that the bird wants a drink. You can never see the insect ; it is as green as the tree on which it chirps. Chirp ? Yes ; for it does not sing. Its hemipterous membranous transpar- ency is in a scrape on the under side of itself, and grates out by friction a shrill monotone, which on this island is only equalled in its annoyance by the unmelodious bray of the festive jackass. Its fals- etto is relieved by snatches of sprightly Greek songs, trilled in girlish glee by shoeless little Cal- liopes, which rise in treblous hilarity from the cot- tages of the valley below. At dawn we are awakened by three peculiar sounds. One is the " strain of strutting chanti- cleer." This is Shakespeare's expression in the " Tempest " ; so that the herald of the dawn be- longed to other enchanted isles. It is literally a strain which means an effort ; for the firstlings of the chicken tribe try their tiny throats with a feeble agony which soon arouses the ire and ambi- tion of the elder cocks. These make the isle ring MORNING CALLS AND ECHOES. 33 from, side to side with their clarion voices ; and St. George's Mount takes up the shrill crow, which St. Nicholas echoes. Dreams here ? Dreams in the early morning ? Mayhap ; but not rosy. Another noise begins. At first it is an equiv- ocal sort of bruit. Is it the distant thunder from Olympus ? Is it the rolling of the Ismid train again ? It starts afar. It approaches ! It is no ! yes ! it is the jackass Diapason ! " It frights the isle from its propriety." Be it known that nearly all the locomotion of these isles is done by these meek children of misery. I am prepared to defend them for their patience, industry and docility. I am ready to die believing in their good sense, despite the libels upon their long ears, as significant of obtuseness. I have been familiar with them at home and abroad in and out of Congress. They are not insensi- ble to kindnesses. They are not donkeys in the sense of dulness. I am in sympathy with Cole- ridge's elegy to the ass's colt. In monumental Egypt ; around thy walls, O Jerusalem ; and over the mountains of these princely isles, I have be- come their confidant and familiar. When Athana- sius, our donkey driver, long may he be immor- tal ! brings from below his white jackass arrayed in gold cloth, with blue beads on its noble fore- head and around its milky neck to keep off the evil eye I know that I have a safe companion 8 4 THE PRINCES ISLES, for the pleasant paths of the pine woods. But there is something too much of this animal on the isle, if one would seek quiet rest in the morning. When donkey parties meet on the roads, there is much recognition and confusion. I demand of Athan'asius the reason of this sonorous braying. He responds : " You ought, Excellency, to hear them in the month of May, when Jack salutes his Jenny, a mile or more distant, and when the general jubilee of affection begins its vociferate attentions ; " or words to that effect. After all, it is their affectionate nature that must speak out in these inharmonious numbers. It is said that in the isle of Crete, whence Homer im- ported Stentor for his epic, the shepherds, owing to the pure air, can be heard calling to their flocks three miles and more distant. The undulations of the air here furnish the same facility for sound. The isle, by conformation, is a vast microphone. Nothing is lost in the limbo of silence. When Monsieur Chanticleer has quit his strut- ting and crowing ; when Madame Poulet has finished clucking her morning "lay;" when the wind is quiescent and the star-spangled flag hangs limp by its staff, and the cries of the bread and vegetable mongers are stilled then, as if by some infernal pre-concert this ear-benumbing noise of the amorous and jocund jackass begins again. It MOR E BRA YING. g 5 starts with an exaggerated case of. asthma. This rasps the soul. It is as if the beast would lose and then catch his bated breath, with a harsh, squeaky sibilation until a roar, as of forty hun- gry lions of the desert, comes to its infinite relief. It would seem as if all the powers of wheezy, whistling, gasping suction were exhausted. And so it is ; but then follow the terrific expirations of the bellowing monster ! This process of suction and emission is repeated with ''damnable itera- tion," until it dies out in an agony unutterable long drawn out. I can recall in adolescent asso- ciation with the paternal saw-mill, agonizing creak- ings of ungreased timber-wheels, and the filing of saws on a frosty morning. I have had recent expe- rience of the screaming shadoof, turned by blind buffaloes, pumping the Nile upon the fruitful land. In time I became accustomed to these chromatic eccentricities ; but no one, not even the inhab- itants of these isles, can ever become tolerant of this braying. When the Equus Prinkipo begins, as he does by lifting the upper lip and showing his white teeth, the driver takes pre- cautions against too prolonged an agony. He makes a wild and desperate rush for Asinus. He beats and kicks him. He jerks his head up, down and awry. But still undaunted, the animal roars again and again ; and his congeners from the town below on the shore, yea, even afar off to the Dias- 86 THE PRINCES ISLES. kalon on the summit, take up the horrid refrain, until one would think Enceladus had walked out of the sunless chambers of the earth to bellow upon the affrighted air. Oh ! that these donkeys were like the lion indeed, not of natural history, but of the species Bottom would have played in such an " aggravating voice " that he would roar you as gently as any sucking dove, or any nightingale. Certainly, Shakespeare, who was fond of locating his midsummer fancies upon enchanted isles, must have heard of these donkeys of Prinkipo, when he said : " The isle is full of noises." I am not prepared to join in the general objur- gation against this animal. He has excellent qualities. It is the duty of just criticism to dis- criminate and not judge too harshly. It is said of the mule that he is the meanest of brutes. I would not be unjust to him even. I admit that he has plenty of total depravity in his hind legs. I further admit that he is more obstinate than his step-brother ; but has he not the same evangelical expression of countenance ? As the mule is only half an ass, dispraise of him must be discounted at the beginning fifty per cent. I assert boldly that there are good mules as well as good donkeys. It is a great mistake to suppose that the obstinacy which belongs to both animals is a vice. On the contrary, it is a virtue. Does not this quality of nature give strength of character and courage ? FAMIL Y PRIDE. Much has been said and written of the pride of birth. Much wit has been expended in relation to that pride. But it has never been applied ex- cept in derision of the donkey. This is unjust. Humble though his present station may be, he is of an ancient family. Royalty is shown in the thistle of his escutcheon. He has much more reason to be proud than the mule. He has no bar sinister on his shield. It may not be generally known that the mule has an arrogant and offens- ive pride, which amounts to vanity. The pride of the mule is in some respects justifiable. It is in- herited. It comes from his maternal connections. Perhaps it is because of this that the mule joins in the general objurgation against his father, the don- key. If an ass is thrown with a pack of mules, he is sure to be badly treated, kicked and curled like a poor relatiori ; while the horse is treated with the most distinguished consideration. The mule is always anxious to be near his equine relative. Those who are accustomed to these animals will verify this remarkable statement. Yet with all his faults the mule is a true patriot ; he served gal- lantly in the late war, and has not applied for a pension ! He took rank in the quartermaster's de- partment and became a " brevet horse." The ass is by no means a stupid beast ; he is contemplative. He belongs to the tropical cli- mate. The horse belongs to the colder latitude gg THE PRINCES ISLES. and supplies almost its every emergency. The ass is Oriental. His progenitor is from Central Asia. He has long served as a domestic in its regions. From there he went down into Egypt. He is the offspring of a splendid civilization. The Bible, which is a Semitic book, has niany references to him, both in the satire in relation to Baalam, and in the beautiful entry into Jerusalem. The ass has been exalted by the Arab. He came in with the Caliphs. He shared their honors. My recollection is precise that when I was asked to ride to the Pyr- amids, or to make a tour around ancient Thebes, the admiring and eloquent donkey contractor never failed to dignify the animal with such names as " Washington," " Grant," and "Yankee Doodle." The donkey of Egypt is quite an improvement on all other donkeys that I have observed in the Eastern world. His breeding is of high antiquity. Great attention is paid to his pedigree : as much as to that of the horse. In that warm climate there are donkey barbers, who clip his hair in order to prevent him from suffering from the heat. When kept for private use this quadru- ped is sometimes dressed in splendid housings, rich and gaudy, having on a high pad or sad- dle upon which one may even lie down in com- fort. This aristocrat is by no means a sample, however, of the ordinary animal, even in Egypt, much less of those we find in Prinkipo. f I w AN EGYPTIAN INVENTION. 8 9 I am inclined to tell a story at the risk of in- credulity. When in Egypt, in the winter of 1886, the donkey I rode, which was named Sardanap- alus, because he fared so sumptuously, became overweary in our long ride to the temple of Abydos, on the border of the desert. He was taken into the cool chambers and hitched amidst its cyclopian pillars. Under the very eye of a painted Rameses, he hung up his head by his upper teeth to a ledge of the structure, and thus rested. I thought at first he was fascinated by the double-crowned king of Egypt, who peered down at him with almond eyes ; but no ! it was a little contrivance of his own to hold up his heavy head. I once served on a Committee on Foreign Affairs in the House of Representatives with a member from Nevada. He has since been Minis- ter to the Sandwich Islands. In the absence of better business before the Committee, he on one occasion entertained that body with a description of a contest between a grizzly bear and a jackass. The idea that the grizzly had failed in the contest gave great satisfaction to the Foreign Affairs Committee. It has been my constant delight since that time to review the terrific contest as depicted by the then member from the Sierras. If he did not exaggerate, as doubtless he did not, there never was in the history of animated nature a beast with such belligerent propensities. They 9 o THE PRINCES ISLES. reached even to his extremities. How he de- feated the grizzly bear ; how he won the hearts of the Nevada people ; how he pursued his enemy until the last element and microbe of its being was annihilated, can only be told by the ex-editor of the Nevada Enterprise, whose "lecture" on that subject deserves to be filed with his diplo- matic correspondence with King Kalakaua ! My memory of his description of this fighting animal, recalled in the land of the Homeric Greek, makes me tolerant of its vociferation in the early morning. I have been told that after this victory, Nevada seriously contemplated giving a place to the donkey in her armorial bearings ; and that it was only prevented by a chivalrous spirit of inter- State comity which would avoid offence to Califor- nia's grizzly shield. Every defence of this patient animal, by per- sons in or out of authority, has been welcome. When questions are asked by his representative in Congress, when the heads of departments send in their reports, when a constituent writes for the agricultural report which frequently contains his portrait, when a newspaper makes inordinate or irrational humor, well, I feel like defending the donkey against the attacks which the incon- siderate may make. ^Esop, in his fables, and the world, with its satire, have made light of his ra- tional attributes. He is yet to be thoroughly vin- v 4 I 9 THE ASS IN HISTORY. QI dicated. A French poet once said : " A force de malheurs Vane est inter essant" Some of our comic papers in New York have shown that the ass is conspicuously an ass when he does not know it. Oftentimes an irrational person may call a man an ass. He does not intend to, but gener- ally he wrongs the animal. I like the theology of India. It reverences all animals. The souls of men even inspired and often ventured within the precincts and anatomy of the animal after death. I am proud to confirm the statement of the member of Congress from Nevada, that the ass is a warrior. On the authority of Voltaire, I may allege that Mirvan, the twenty-first Caliph, was called " The Ass" for his valor. Homer compared the coward Paris to a horse ;,but when he sought for a heroic synonym to glorify Ajax, he likened him to an ass. Greece and Rome were careful to produce the best breed of these animals. They were more precious than slaves in the market. Our own Bible has many allusions to this animal. It makes him sacred. The wild ass of Job may not have the equine thunder in his neck ; he may not snuff the battle from afar ; but he is, nevertheless, good at a fight when it is near. He is a magnifi- cent figure in Biblical history. We know his relation with the life of the Holy Family.

is a tomb of much elegance. It is a tomb of a patriarch of the Orthodox Greek Church. There is a tomb of an English minister of Queen Bess's time. He fought for one of the Sultans in the Danubian country. The college is semi-religious, although commercial. Soon we are joined by one of its directors, and by the jani- tor and several of his servants. It is vacation. The students are absent. We enter the court- A LITTLE " COMMERCIAL " CHURCH. l ^ yard and dismount. A priest with a pleasant beaming smile not the kind of beam referred to in the Scripture brings out a big key, and the an- cient church is opened. There is no troublesome unshoeing or slipping, as when we enter a mosque. It is a little church and quite young. It is only 800 years old. It is black with age and the soot of burning candles. All the available space in the two apartments and even in the little altar room is filled with images of saints. One saint twice produced, Saint Macarius, has a long white beard that touches his sandals. Like all images in the Greek churches, these pictures, hands and all, are covered with either gold or sil- ver or some metallic imitation. The faces are not covered. They look out of the shiny aureoles. Some rare relics are here, and exceptionally old books, but the antique effect is tawdry. The church is as neat as it can be in its dress of lace and gold. There are carved seats, which look old in the dim religious colored light from windows of antique style. There is a vitriol lamp burning before the Virgin. Faded flowers, silver chains, crucifixes, volumes of the Scriptures, and chants, these give a mysterious awe to this antique edifice hid away in the mountains, which once knew and felt the power of the great Greek hierarchy and empire of the East. Tapers by the score are piled up on a table. There is T -6 THE PRINCES ISLES. nothing, however, musty in the little pent-up edi- fice, for the smell of myrtle or pine gives a deli- cious sweetness. As Pedro talks modern Greek like a native, be- ing born on the borders of Epirus, we communi- cate easily with the priest. We find him not only a healthy and hirsute person, of fine physique and pleasant manners, but of unusual intelligence as to his own religion. The director gallants us to the long salle a manger and dormitory. These accommodate 167 students, and are as neat as can be. We visit the library. It did not interest. It was made up of Greek and French books. The latter are of the age of the French Revolution or before. Rousseau lies quietly beside Buffon : the one a beast and the other a writer about beasts. Obsolete literature is plentiful. We glance at a globe which represents the world, including our United Colonies in the time of John Smith of Virginia. Then we enter a long corridor, decorated with sketches of ancient Greeks, Homeric heroes and fathers of the church. We seek the open air, feeling as if we had been buried. Again we mount our donkeys. Sending off one of the gamins to order our launch, we go round the isle to the little bay in front of the college, down to the water side. There we find a restau- rant and garden. The proprietor gives us lemon- ade and coffee, and a bouquet for " Madame." CHURCH UNDER GROUND. l ^ We remount to take a path through the forests to a little old church under ground, cut in the rocks. It is the same kind of old church as the rest, only with a different name. This is called " The Holy Spirit." The Greeks always have a restaurant or tavern near their religious home, just as the Moslem has a mosque near his barracks, or a fountain near his mosque. We do not find any person taking care of this " little church round the corner" of the white cliff, where we venture. We are free to go upon the premises. Here is a bed out in the air, and another in a little cave near the church. Fuel is gathered from the pine trees we beg pardon, not "from," but " under" them ; for it is forbidden to take the cones from the trees, only those that fall are taken. Charcoal is already binned for the winter. Could a more secluded spot be found on this uninhabited part of the isle ? On the other side more than a thousand people live. There the streets are roomy and nice. The town reminds one of a town in Italy or Spain, except that the houses are better and more comfortable. They are of wood. Halki is a sort of rival of Prinkipo as a health and summer resort ; but the best class live in Prinkipo. The rich people and grand villas are in Prinkipo. I cannot help but conclude that Halki has more natural beauty of site, forest and shrubbery. Owing to the scholastic and other 12 !^g THE PRINCES ISLES. associations of Halki, there is more interest for the Greek on this isle. When one sees the remnant of this grand race, lifting up still, though under adverse institutions and circumstances, the banner of the cross, one cannot help pondering upon a his- tory that began with the heroes of Troy, and even yet listens delightedly to the oratory of Delyani and Tricoupis under the shadow of the Acropolis. Our next visit is to the church of St. George. It is reached through the cypress avenues, as the picture represents. St. George seems to be a favorite with the Greeks, especially in these isles. The king of Greece is popular, not only because he is an amiable and equitable ruler, but because his name is George. In a great many churches this saint, who is of Cappadocia and has a marvellous his- tory, is always pictured as slaying the dragon. In the painting at St. George's monastery and church in Halki, .he is painted as rescuing a damsel in dis- tress from the fangs of the monster. The artist has discreetly and graphically made the dragon climb half way up the haunches of the saint's gray charger, and has so arranged the dragon that George runs his spear into his opened jaws' and clear through the animal, making the weapon truly lethal. It is not the pictures of this church that allure the visitor, although there are in the new church dozens of pictures of saints of the best Russian art. They are presents from Russia. A RICH CHURCH. But the situation is the attraction. The long dou- ble alley of cypresses, three deep, leads the pleased traveller up to the monastery. The main building is on a precipitous bluff of rocks. From its ter- races and under its cypresses Prinkipo is in full and near view. It looks off to the east and south. St. George monastery, too, has a history, but there is not so much of antiquity or tradition about it to give smirch to its saints or a dim religious light to its richly dight windows. It is rich, how- ever, in this world's goods. It is the proprietor of some twenty houses in a long row upon the terrace, above the cypresses. These it rents. In the Mid- dle Ages it was connected with the church of Chalcedon. Now, where is, or was, Chalcedon ? It is on the way to Constantinople, which we shall soon travel in another chapter. All these scenes make us moralize upon events which carry us back to the first centuries of the Christian religion. CHAPTER XII. ANTIGONE AND PROTI HISTORIC AND OTHER INCIDENTS. THERE is not much to be seen by the eye upon the island of Antigone. But its classic name gives it a flavor of the Greek, while its three monasteries have a rare, eventful history. The isl- and was formerly called " Panormos," which means in Greek " a harbor safe on all sides." The Turks call it " Bourgas-Ada," the Island of the Fortress, owing to an ancient fortress which ex- isted there, but of which there is no trace now. The monastery of the Transfiguration is on the summit of the highest hill of this island. It was pulled down by order of the Sultan Murat IV. in 1 720, in consequence of a procession with torches which, according to ancient custom, went round the monastery on the night of Good Friday in that year. The Turks, seeing the lights and the commotion from across at Kadikeui, became alarmed. They demanded and obtained an edict from the Sultan that the monastery should be razed to the ground. Contrary to what the author of " lies des Princes " says, there are plenty of ruins and 1 80 MELANCHOLY ANTIGONE. 181 monuments connected with the monastery remain- ing, and even tombs of exiled princes with the bones carefully preserved. The author of " lies des Princes " falls also into an unpardonable error regarding the little island of Pita, which he places between Halki and Prinkipo. He cannot surely have visited the islands at all or else he would have known that Pita is just in front of Antigone. It helps immensely to make the little harbor of that island a safe retreat. Pita is uninhab- ited and has no interest whatever attaching to it, except an ancient cistern with a quaintly carved pillar in the middle. This shows that in former times the isle was inhabited. Antigone is a melancholy isle compared with Halki and Prinkipo. Is it because so lugubri- ously named ? Poor Antigone, the forerunner of Juliet even as Haemon, her betrothed, was the antitype of Romeo ; for did she not sacrifice her- self when entombed alive, and her lover kill himself by her corpse ? Every isle of Greece thus perpetuates some in- vention or myth in which the tragic element plays its part. The birds of Antigone circle all about us, then fly off, organize into companies and battalions and return to us with a wail which Greek fancy might translate into some woful song. Upon the sides of the mountains, beyond the cliffs, are lanes through the shubbery lanes for j 32 THE PRINCES ISLES. the goat and sheep. As we pass beyond the point a wreck is seen with one mast standing. The proofs are written in the chaotic rocks of the shore, of how earthquake and tempest have wounded and shaken the isle. The colors of the rocks are various, some black as the porphyry of upper Egypt, some brownish-red as the iron can paint them, and some as white as snow. As we regard it a duty to take possession, pedis possessio, of each one of these princely ' isles, we array our boat in greenery and flowers, and start upon this September morning for An- tigone. The wind is fresh. The curl of the lilies upon the blue sea gives us warning ; but as the wind, whose nautical moods I study, is not from the south, we venture over the two miles of azure. Before we turn the point of Halki, the ferry from the city steams around that rocky isle. A wave of a handkerchief from some one on board indicates that our capoudji (messenger) from the Legation is on board. As business is always before diversion, we whisk our launch around and pursue the steamer into the harbor of Halki. Our Capitano must have had some- thing aboard besides his esprit de corps, for he jams our launch "Sunset" against the side of the big boat, until my better half begins to forget her duty as passenger and speaks words of com- mand in several dialects at once ; and my Dalma- VISIT TO ANTIGONE. 'S3 tian serviteur, Pedro, regains his profane tongue, which is Italian. We soon capture our mail- bag and messenger. We read our letters from home, fresh out of the pouch, and then, ho ! for Antigone ! The weather is a little hazy, partaking some- thing of the captain's condition. We cannot see the distant mountains of Asia except in dim outline, but the sun shines on the minaretted and domed glories of Stamboul ; and that is enough. Antigone has quite a population. They are nearly all, if not all, out on the pier to greet our strange flag ; but as they charge a mejidie (or dollar) if we stop at the pier more than five minutes, the Captain makes money by hailing a caique at half that sum. We land in that little frail craft and in a tossing sea. The crowd is attracted by our flag and the infrequency of such a vessel at the port of Antigone. Once this was quite a busy commercial place. The heavy stone walls of the harbor, and the solid walls of the villas, red and black with iron-rust, in- dicate that formerly here was a substantial people. The drives are all for donkeys ; no carnages are allowed. But we dispense with donkeys, and are content to saunter upon the terraces, where we are observed by such members of the families of the town as had not appeared on the quay to re- ceive us. Many of the houses have elegant ter- 1 84 THE PRINCES ISLES, raced gardens. Some of the houses are as quaint as those of old Amsterdam, with points, angles, ga- bles and balconies overhanging the street. After some observation of the town and a glance at the crowning monastery we re-embark, not without a transient souvenir of the isle. This consists of a huge watermelon, upon whose sides the Greek artistic vender has made two drawings by scrap- ing the green rind. The first sketch is plain enough to decipher ; but can the reader guess what the other one is. It is a fire-engine, such as the pompiers of the towns and cities of the East regard as the refinement of inventive art. It is to be regretted that I cannot reproduce the picture here. Fires are very frequent in Constantinople and its adjacent villages. The structures are wooden, dry and frail. The streets are narrow, and therefore the fires are very destructive. There is much smoking of tobacco by the Turk. There is such a general use of charcoal and braziers, such a general carelessness in using the cigarette and ch^bouq^^,e, together with the matted floors that fires are frequent. The last thing that I saw before I left Constantinople was the practice of the fire brigade under the tuition of their chief. He is a Hungarian nobleman. He is providing modern means to put out fires, especially in Pera. The little engines, a caricature of which suggests FIRE ENGINE. I8 5 these incidents and which the pompiers carry along with such hideous cries, are not bigger than the ordinary engines which we have to water our garden at home. They have but a single chamber. This is about eight inches long by three or four in diameter. They seem rather to nourish a fire. The firemen themselves are said to be selected for personal strength and activity, I should say for lung force. On their heads they wear a broad cap. They are naked to their waists. Do you ask how is the alarm of fire given ? I answer : Upon the elevated Seraskierate tower of the War Office in Stamboul there is a guard who watches. When a fire occurs, he beats a big drum, and shouts wildly, " Wang gin var" which, literally interpreted, means, " A fire there is ! " This assembles the firemen. It alarms the people. The tower of Galata is also used for the same purpose on the other side of the Golden Horn. If it be in daylight flags are flaunted from the tops of these towers, indicating by their color and arrangement where the fire is, and by night other signals are used for this pur- pose. Before sailing homeward to Prinkipo we may at least glance at, if not land upon, Proti. Proti is the first, as the word signifies and as the map shows, of the nine isles on the way from Con- stantinople. It is by no means the last of the nine THE PRINCES ISLES, in historic and monastic interest. Its houses are few and scattered. But one tree decorates its summit. A few others surround a house. The sides of the isle looking toward the city are scarred by wave and storm. It is not so attractive nor so much frequented as the sister isles of Halki, Anti- gone and Prinkipo. Whether it be fire, or goats, or man, or tariffs, its forests are gone. Much of its beauty and all of its productiveness have de- parted. How often have we to remark this fact in the Orient ! Dr. Stanley has said the same on the aspect of Palestine. He refutes the presumption of its limited resources in ancient days, by its present depressed and desolate state. But doubt- less the aspect and advantages of the land have greatly changed. So it is with all these lands, in- cluding the Greek isles and the Asian mainland. Asia Minor and Syria could once have brought forth ten times their present product and have supported ten times as many as their present population. This sterility involves the question always asked in the Orient : " Can these calcined and stony places ever have been a land flowing with milk and honey?" Proti is associated with Halki in several pretty narratives. It once had another name. Greek and Turkish nomenclature for places always represent some sensible object. Some of the names are quite poetical, others quite common- THE WHETSTONE ISLE, I8 7 place. This isle of Proti appears to have been formerly styled also " Acconce " or " Acconitis," from the quantity of whetstone which was once to be found on it, the Greek word accona (Akovrj) meaning whetstone. By the Turks it is called " Khinali Ada," Reddish Island. Proti had formerly a fine harbor and populous village on its eastern side, but they have disappeared. Only a few remnants of ruins are left, among which are two large-sized cisterns of the Byzan- tine period. These indicate the spot where the old village was situated. The harbor has been washed away by the sea. The present village occupies quite a different site. There were three monasteries on this island. The smallest of these monasteries was that built by the Anatolian, General Vardane. It was de- stroyed on the 2Oth of February, 1807, by the British fleet under Admiral Sir John Duckworth and Rear-Admiral Lewis. That fleet comprised ten men-of-war. Among them may be mentioned the two-decker, "-Endymion," and the " Ajax" of 74 guns. The latter caught fire accidentally and was entirely destroyed. After forcing the Straits of the Dardenelles and destroying part of the Turkish fleet, which was lying at Gallipolis, this fleet came and anchored in the harbor of Proti. There it remained eleven days. The Turks, in order to prevent the English from getting water THE PRINCES ISLES. and fuel from the island, sent a small detach- ment of sixty determined men from Kadikeui, who, after some difficulty, succeeded in landing and entrenching themselves in the monastery. The English landed a party and attacked the monastery to which they finally set fire. The Turks, driven from their stronghold, offered a fierce resistance. After killing a considerable number, they at last drove the English out of the isle, and before the latter could return in stronger force, the Turkish detachment was saved from its perilous situation by the inhabitants of Halki, who came in their caiques at night and took off the Turks. In recompense for this service and their bravery, the Halkiotes were granted by the then Sultan, Selim, exemption from taxes, a privilege which they con- tinue to enjoy up to the present time. CHAPTER XIII. PLATI AND OXIA SIR HENRY BULWER'S FATAL LIT- TLE ISLE HIS DIPLOMACY AND HIS ECCEN- TRICITIES. FROM any eminence in Constantinople, upon a clear day, two isolated rocks apparently leap out of the Sea of Marmora the classic Propontis. But they are not merely rocks. Oxia, in Greek, means "late in the day," or "Sunset." It is thus named because the sun lingers last on its prom- inence. From one point it looks like the pyra- mid of Ghizi. We have not, yet been upon it, but we have been around it. It is not inhabited ex- cept by snakes. Our visit is, therefore, reserved. But we have accomplished the other little isle, Plati. It is the Oriental custom to name locali- ties from some concrete quality, association, or ob- ject. What Plati means in Greek I can easily sur- mise. Although it is some 300 feet above the sea level, still it is a plateau. It can be cultivated nearly over its whole area, which is at least 150 acres. The name is derived from the Greek word TrAdTy, which means a flat or broad surface. It is the same root for our word plain, or plaza, or 189 THE PRINCES ISLES. plat. Plati is due west from Prinkipo and due south from Constantinople. It is some fifteen miles from the city. These twin warders of the archipelago Oxia and Plati are conspicuous figures in the sea. They have each an individuality, not merely phys- ically, but strategetically. The power, whether Greek or Turkish, that held Constantinople, used them as sentinels to warn of the approach of the Genoese or knightly enemy. Their isolation made them capital prisons. Within their horrid caves, now used for cisterns, the convict was immured without hope. Sometimes the loose and aban- doned visited them for the worst purposes of lust and escapades of deviltry. Pirates sometimes con- cealed themselves there. But during the Greek rule, the Greek Church erected monasteries up- on them. The remains of these are still seen upon both islands. There was a church, or oratory, on Plati. Its debris is found near the castle by the sea. Several times, when the dogs of the big city became obstreperous, or the horses sick, the former were deported to the rocky and barren islet of Oxia, and the horses there found their paradise. In the place where the hermits were once established, civilization gave eternal rest to the animal creation. Sometimes these isles were used as a target for the practice of the Ottoman naval guns. OLD DUNGEONS. jgj The oubliettes, or dungeons, were once the scene of a singular freak of justice. Two eminent patricians had a quarrel. One was a Greek, Basil Bardas ; the other a Roman, Scliros. They fought the first duel recorded in the Greek annals. The story runs that the Emperor Constantine VII. exiled them one to Oxia, and the other to Plati. They were consoled, however ; for, as by a cruel irony, they were placed near each other, and one suffered like the other ! Constantine ordered that their eyes should be put out. It was the pleasant pastime of these Greek rulers to burn out the eyes. But on this occasion the Plati prisoner es- caped, and there was no adequate compensation. These isles have associations more interesting to Americans than those which are philologic, his- toric, geologic, or aesthetic. Plati is best known as the isle of Sir Henry Lytton Bulwer. The dis- tinguished diplomat came to Turkey after his ser- vice at Washington as English minister. He followed here Sir Stratford Canning, the greatest of the English ambassadors. How Sir Henry obtained this isle and what he did with it, and what associations cluster about it in connection with his name, would furnish a strange, eventful history. These concern the biography and eccentricities of the man and the minister, as well as the qualities and condition of the isle itself. There are those in Washington who remember { g 2 THE PRINCES ISLES. Sir Henry. The Clayton-Bulwer treaty was a fact of his accomplishment. Scarcely any public man, from Judge Douglas's time to the present, but has taken a hand in the discussion of this treaty and its obnoxious clause so inimical to certain Isth- mian interests and ambitions of the United States. Among the rest, in an humble way, the writer hereof made a report on April 16, 1880, in favor of its abrogation. The report developed some matters not generally known. It concerned the Monroe doctrine and an interoceanic ship canal. The President had urged in his message the policy of the canal being under American control. He urged the necessity of such control as a part of the guardianship of our coast line. Although New Granada in the railroad franchise of 1846, and Nicaragua in the Hise treaty of 1849, recog- nized the American protectorate, the latter treaty was not ratified because of Mr. Clayton's alarm lest a collision with Great Britain would follow. The Mosquito king played its little, buzzing, stinging part. Mr. Clayton disavowed the Hise treaty to the English minister, Crampton ; but begged the English not to allow us to appear cowardly by the abandonment of " great and splen- did advantages." Mr. Clayton begged England to give up her Mosquito protectorate and share with us the authority over the transit. In this awkward way the negotiations proceeded until CLAYTON-BULWER TREATY. JQ^ April 19, 1850, when the partnership with Great Britain was consummated. This was done under the adroit management of Sir Henry Bulwer. Both parties agreed never "to erect or maintain any fortifications commanding or in the vicinity of any ship canal, or to occupy, or fortify, or assume or exercise any dominion over Nicaragua, Costa Rica, the Mosquito coast, or any part of Central America." England often violated this treaty. But why particularize ? It is a long story, in which such statesmen as Cass and Buchanan, Clarendon and Napier, Ousley and Dallas, Clayton and Bulwer, and recently Clarendon, Blaine, and Frelinghuy- sen have figured, and always with an inconsequen- tial result for us. The subtle crystallization which Sir Henry Bulwer produced remains like a wall of adamant across the line of our policy and the Isthmus. Our puny statesmen have tilted in vain against this wall with their javelins of straw. The English employ such trained diplomatists as Bulwer the world around. But his chicanery and selfishness overtook him at last. His Nemesis was the genius of Plati. The rock .upon which his career foundered was this islet to which the prow of our little launch is turned. Sir Henry has left various impressions here upon those who knew him. I.was not in Congress when the treaty was made. I do not remember '3 i 9 4 THE PRINCES ISLES. ever to have seen him at Washington. He is described as a most engaging and charming gen- tleman. In social etiquette and style he had no peer. He was tall and thin in person. His nose was hooked and peaked ; his face was long and grave ; his eye was like a flash of lightning ; his upper teeth protruded, and his mouth was set a little awry. Despite these gauckeries he was not unhandsome. I fancy that he was not unlike his elder brother, the great novelist. In conversation he was unrivalled. He was a capital raconteur. He liked to emit startling paradoxes. He was an admirable speaker. Whether he was sincere or not, he made all seek his society and like him. His voice was measured, low, musical, and per- suasive. He was most at home in intrigue. In this he displayed the timbre of his character. He went into a diplomatic contest con amore, vizor up and lance pointed. He generally pierced the armor of his antagonist. He usually won, for he did not disdain to use all the arts known to the old style diplomacy, which he held was fast fading away. Altogether he is described to me by the physician who attended him and by the captain of his yacht as a most extraordinary and fascinating man, but replete with whims, of which the owner- ship of this isle is by some accounted one of the most peculiar. He was ambassador in the time of Abdul Mejid, THE FATAL GIFT. ^ whom I remember seeing on my trip here in 1851. No more worthy Sultan, unless I except his son, the present Sultan, Abdul Hamid II., ever did more for the reform of his Government or made more sacrifices for the advancement of civilization. He is known in the East as the Haroun al Raschid of modern times. Sir Henry Bulwer had, there- fore, many opportunities of aiding effectually in the regeneration of the East. Sir Henry conquered the good-will of this Sul- tan of happy memory, by some special efforts about the succession in Egypt. As a consequence, or reward, the Khedive of Egypt made him a gift of this isle. He began its improvement. He erected the two castles one on the shore and the other on the summit. It is said that they were intended as miniatures of his own ancestral home at Knebs- worth, England. He had another whim. He thought to raise cattle on the island. In fact, he stocked it with some cattle of the rarest breed. A storm of a fortnight, before the days of steam ferries here, prevented adequate provender from reaching the isle. The cattle perished and so did the enterprise. He seldom lived on the island. His wife visited it frequently, but only to remain a short time. Sometimes with friends he stayed over night and had a good time, but his health was infirm. He could not follow very far a cer- tain jocund disposition without hurt to his physical 196 THE PRINCES ISLES. system. He was odd about his health. His doctor tells me that he saw him every day for four years, and that he used to take a different pill at the end of each dish at his meals. It was one of his ca- prices to have frequent imaginary ills and pills. It was the remark of Guizot about him, that "if Bul- wer were ill, look out ! Mischief was sure to fol- low his pills." Guizot had reference to Bulwer's tact at Madrid in the matter of the Spanish mar- riage of the Duke de Montpensier, son of Louis Phil- ippe. Sir Henry must have had a bad spell about the time he inveigled Mr. Clayton to sign away an American protectorate over the Isthmian ways. How he used to chuckle over his diplomatic triumphs ! Some of them were won in Roumania along with Halil Pacha, a festive companion and a good fellow, a colleague of Bulwer in Roumania. How he used to laugh over his circumvention of Mr. Clayton ! These are a part of the traditions and gossip yet at Pera, which is called the ant-hill of politics. He had curious characteristics. Sometimes it was thought that he was mean in money matters ; but the owner of our launch, Mr. Jones, who brought out a steam yacht for him from England, and used to ship him about these isles and the Bosphorus, tells me that at times he was extrava- gantly and unexpectedly generous. He was often timorous of society. . He would hide from his em- B UL WER'S ECCENTRICITIES. j g-r bassy and friends for weeks at a time. It was his whim or his respite. His doctor says that once, while attending him at Cairo, he insisted on spending three weeks with an old English farmer out of that city, where, amid the chickens, donkeys, dogs, and hogs, he was content to live on the homely fare and under the simple cottage thatch of the peasant, whom he never afterward failed substantially to remember. It is a part of the reminiscences about Sir Henry, that while he was resplendent in social life and ex- quisite in personal taste, he was not to be relied upon. His word was not absolute verity. It was not exactly unveracity. It was imagination, all compact. It was a desire to please. He was princely in his entertainments. After he was no longer ambassador here, he returned on some speculative mission. He held the same old high carnival daily and nightly with his epicurean friends. What he did to embarrass the American missionaries here I do not exactly know. It had some reference to the^ American (Robert) College. Its then President, Dr. Hamlin, in his book, han- dles him without gloves. He held him to be as destitute of public probity as he was of private morality. As Dr. Hamlin was outspoken as to this person- age, I may quote what he says, in his published volume : 198 THE PRINCES ISLES. " The case of the college was at length laid be- fore Sir Henry Bulwer. He was a man, of no prin- ciple ; but he knew that to carry the measure would get him credit in England. He took hold of it with the intention of carrying it through. After a long time, and wearisome delays, he wrote me a note, saying that the question was decided, and that, within three days, I should have leave to go on. " I next received a note from him, telling me that I had made an unwise and inconsiderate bargain, in purchasing that place, and the consequences should justly fall on my own head. He saw no reason why the English Embassy should have any further trouble with regard to it ! " It was a treachery so base that I made no reply to it, and had nothing more to do with Sir Henry Bujwer. I felt curious, however, to know the rea- son for such a sudden facing about. Nor was it at all difficult to find. " He had received a magnificent 'gift' from the Pasha of Egypt, with a request that he would ar- range some important and pressing affairs with the Porte. " Another was sent to the Countess G , one of Sir Henry's mistresses, and, of course, he un- dertook the Pasha's business. Among the condi- tions made by A'ali Pasha, in return, was, that he should throw that college question overboard HIS OLD-TIME DIPLOMACY. which he accordingly did, as not worth a moment's consideration. It is a good specimen of Sir Henry's character. In similar circumstances he would have thrown overboard any English inter- est with equal coolness." As an illustration of the morale of the diplomacy of Sir Henry Bulwer, let me record a fact. In May, 1860, Prince Gortschakoff addressed a circu- lar to the great powers of Europe as to the condi- tion of the Christians in the Balkan peninsula. It suggested inquiry to verify the facts, so as to bring about some amelioration. Sir Henry drew up a list of the questions which he sent to the Brit- ish consuls throughout the Empire. He accompa- nies it with a circular of his own. In this he inti- mates the way in which he expects the consuls to answer. As a sample of his shrewdness, not to say old-time diplomacy, in his circular of the 8th of August, 1860, the following passage occurs: " Your conduct in this crisis will be duly watched by me, and my opinion whether favorable or the reverse, communicated to Her Majesty's government." This threat had its commentary in the action of one unfortunate consul. He failed to receive the circular, and wrote too plain spoken a report. He afterwards apologized for it when he saw the cir- cular, and wrote a second destroying the effect of the first. 200 THE PRINCES ISLES. This lack of private morality is not treasured against him so much as the lack of public honor. Of his acquisition and disposition of this rocky islet there is much said. After the isle was given him, Sir Henry, in 1854, spent $75,000 in its so-called improvement. He did not keep it long, but somehow, in some peculiar circuitous way, he resojd it for a round sum to the then Khedive of Egypt, Ismael Pasha, who yet lives as the best or worst type of a millionaire who has wrought a great fortune out of the misfortunes of his country. One of the stories which remains as to this isle is, that when Lord Lyons was appointed in Sir Henry's stead as ambassador here, he called on Lord Palmerston at the Foreign Office in Lon- don to receive his instructions. After they were given, Lord Lyons took his leave, saying : " My lord, is there anything else you can say as to Turkish affairs and my duties ? " Lord Palmerston replied " No." Lord Lyons said " Good-by. " As he reached the door and was about to make his exit, Lord Palmerston called out : " My lord ! Yes ! One thing I forgot. Never own an island ! " It was this island of Plati to which Palmerston referred. It lost Bulwer his place, for he sold it for a large sum to a party interested in his ser- THE LA UNCH IN NE W TOILE T. 2Q j vice. He lost his office by the indelicacy of the transaction. Now that we know the later history of the isle, let the launch steam up. Ho! for Plati ! Let us see what are the graces of the isle which attracted and outwitted the clever diplomatist. Before we dash away from the scala let us take an observation or two. With a good glass the two castles upon this rocky islet are visible from Prinkipo. We make preparations to launch out for it and lunch on it. Our Dalmatian serviteur, Pedro Skoppeglia, prepares the latter, while our Maltese Capitano Vincenzo takes the rudder in hand and gives his order. The launch is newly upholstered. It looks as gay as a jaybird. The cushions have been newly covered, and the flag looks its prettiest. The sea is quiet. No white horses are capering over its smooth azure surface. A few fishermen are dropping their nets. They look picturesque in their red sashes, baggy breeches and fez caps. They are half Greek, half Ottoman. A few ships lie at anchor in the harbor. The Asian coast, with its mountain curves on the north and east, is faintly lined against a sky which has but a few fleeces of clouds in the east, hiding the snowy tops of the Mysean Olympus. The sea is intense in its azure, except where there are rich bands of green, and the gulls sit like white flowers on its bosom. 202 THE PRINCES ISLES. The water is as clear as a fountain in July when one " sees each grain of gravel." Lake Tahoe, in Nevada, is not more lucent than this water of the Propontis. A gentle breeze ripples it with sun- shine, and makes a myriad of glittering dia- mond points which decorate its blue robe. A few caiques ^^ feluccas with white wings are in the distance, whose horizon is stained here and there with the Cardiff coal smoke emitted from the steamers bound from Constantinople to the Dardanelles. What a picture is that to the northward ! Stamboul, like an odalisque in her yashmak of finest tulle, seems to emerge from the blue deep. Like a picture of Turner, a semi-ideal glimpse of Venice or some weird mirage of Orientalism, it seems a fairy city of the sea. It is set on seven hills, and, although a dozen and more miles off, it looks as unreal as if woven by unseen fingers in aerial looms an unsubstantial dream of a country that never was on sea or land, which " great- browed Homer ruled as his demesne." My wife suggests a possibility of fishing at Plati, or on the way. At once we are environed by a picturesque group. We choose a four-oared caique with a canopy, and two sturdy Greeks. The caique itself is a picture. On its inside is a clean floor covered with Turkish rugs of rich col- ors. The wood-work is stained with golden hues. VIEWS FROM THE SEA. ^ The outside is of green, red and white, daintily dashed or strewn with flowers not inartistically painted. You cannot tell stern from bow, so airily tip-tilted are the graceful ends of the boat. Our lines and bait are ready. We take a turn in the harbor with the launch, which was named by its owner, Mr. Jones, from whom it was leased, in honor of a pet name I have heard frequently : "Sunset." Then we take the caique in tow and leave the quay with much clat. Before we leave, let us take a glance at the old town, with its bath-houses and stone quays. What is that moving object far off to the Asian shore ? Is it a duck or a seamew ? The glass reveals it! It is an amateur in a flatboat, with paddles, which the man deftly plies. Our little screw gives a few saucy, splashy turns, for the admiration of the fishermen and Greek gamins of the quay, and we are off for the west, America-ward ! Halki is neared. Her big yellow barracks by the shore, with the Turkish naval school, her Greek the- ological college on the northern summit, and her wooded and lovely curved mountains, resem- bling a Mexican saddle or an inverted caique these detain the eye, but not the launch. A breeze springs up as we pass the hotels Calypso and Giacomo on the craggy shore of Prinkipo. The superb villas which crown the bluffs are on our left. The breeze starts the pris- 2O4 THE PRINCES ISLES. matic windmills in motion. The flag over the Azarian water tower is our own star-spangled banner. It kisses the breeze, and we salute the starry emblem. Boys are swimming in the bay. The mountains, nearly to the top, seem to sway in the wind with their pines. The pretty nooks and twisted rocks of the shore, the gardens pro- fuse in scent, flower and rare trees pass by as if we are indeed in dream-land, with pleasure domes magically evoked out of sleep. Soon we pass on the south side of Halki. Its rocks are broken, cavernous, and precipitous, as if lashed by a thou- sand storms. Along this south side of Halki is a beautiful harbor. We pass round point after point of Halki, until between Halki and Antig- one there opens a vista scarcely credible for its loveliness. Chatak-Dagh, the highest moun- tain of the mainland of Asia, is in our rear, 1500 feet high. It fills the gap which we look through. The shore line and mountains make a landscape over which and through which there hangs an interpenetrating lustre and distant unveiling which would make Bierstadt wild with artistic enthusi- asm. These isles take on a different dress when observed from the sea. We forget to look at yonder avenue of cypresses on Halki. They lead up to another famous mon- astery, where many a Greek exile has been housed and many a marriage ceremony has been per- CLASSIC SURROUNDINGS. 2Q - formed. The rocky ledges of Antigone, near which we now sail, are rugged and lofty. They are not devoid of trees, which give garniture to their sides and ledges. Here sea birds live in great numbers. As we turn to look back again the dark coves of Western Prinkipo are revealed, and beyond the southern end of Prinkipo, little Niandro lies, almost in ambush, at the feet of St. George's mountain, which looms up as if it would rival Olympus, whose head is shrouded in the white clouds anchored over the Mysean mountains. Now, if we could keep right on, on, on, where would we land ? Get the map and see. It strikes me that we would strike Lemnos isle, to which the Empress Irene was banished when it pleased her lord-treasurer to show, his harsh authority over the murderous mother whose bones lie some- where on the Isle of Prinkipo. Or if we missed Lemnos, going due west, we would come up against the coast of Thessaly, and almost under the shadow of that other and more classic Olym- pus as to which there is much to be said when the roll of Homer's heroes is called. Our boat turns now to the isle of Bulwer Plati. It looks near, say five miles. I strive to sketch its outlines, for its exterior seems as yet only a blank rock. Its castles are dimly lined and neb- ulously white. We look back. Great shadows 20 6 THE PRINCES ISLES. from white fleeces of clouds are moving over the Asian shore, and old Olympus has not yet come out of his tabernacle. The wavering line of the Asian shore to the south is pencilled on the edge of the horizon. It soon vanishes around Mo- dena's gulf and is lost in the sea. Passing the checkered and streaked cliffs of Halki and Antigone, noting the walls here and there to prevent land slides and excavations from which iron and copper have been taken, observing the clean-tilled brown and red earth which the olive and cypress ornament, smelling the scented shrub or machie which gives its fragrance to the air, we turn again to look back ; and lo ! St. George's monastery, on southern Prinkipo, is a white dot on the green eminence. We pass the southern shore of Antigone and note upon the narrow shingly beach the men who hunt birds, steal their eggs, and gather oysters or some other crustacce, which abound on these shores. They have boats. We run close to the beetled crags, colored and speckled like the increase of Jacob's flocks, while here and there are big boulders held aloft in the arms of stout rocks which frost and earthquake have tumbled from the scarred moun- tain sides. Antigone rises sheer 500 feet. Her side is full of caves. What are those white flowery specks mingled with the rock and greenery ? We soon ascertain, for have we not discovered and BIRD LIFE. aroused the gulls and cormorants that here nestle ? They come out of their nooks by the thousand, and keep up such a clamor that it seems like the angry protest of a bird mob against the invasion of their haunts by our launch. These are the birds which make Marmora and the Bosphorus so full of life, even when the hot air silences all other noise and motion. They are never disturbed or killed by the inhabitants. They have a monopoly of the isle. They are gentle, as all inhabitants of the isle, which is named after the heroine of Sophocles, should be. This tameness of the birds is not limited to the Island of Prinkipo. All through the mosques and groves and walls and gardens of the old city of Stamboul you hear a universal twitter and the fluttering of wings which indicate the life of the birds. The sparrows fly in and out of the houses. The swallows, which seemed partial to my presence, fix their nests in every convenient arch in and out of the bazaars. The pigeons are maintained by many, and have a mosque of their own named after them. The gulls rival in number the turtle- doves, the one having dominion of the air and the other of the woods and cemeteries. The halcyons fly in long ranks up and down the Bos- phorus, as if restlessly intent on some very earnest business ; while the grave and dignified stork sits upon the towers of Anatolia and Rou- 2o8 THE PRINCES ISLES. melia, and upon the cupolas of the grand mauso- leums. The Turk never harms these birds. Every bird has a little office of trust which it exe- cutes for this wild, reckless and sanguinary Turk. Now we steer direct for Plati. Its profile is a semicircle. It has dark gaps in its sides. There is a white building on its shore and another on its sum- mit. A few more whirls of the "Sunset's" screw and there is revealed the two Anglo-Saxon castles. No houses yet appear. The smaller sister, Oxia, is more like a pyramid. In fact, it is about twenty times as large as the pyramid of Ghiza, but not so symmetrical. As we draw near it takes on a rough aspect. These twin isolated rocks, as we approach, become quite tall and roomy. I should say that Plati Bulwer's Isle is at least a mile in circuit. Looking to the north-west there appears in dim outline the European coast. The white specks are the houses of San Stefano. There the famous Turco-Russian treaty was made, and there the Russian army lay in wait ready for a spring at, and into, Constantinople. As we approach the little isle the haze lifts. The desert of blue water is oased by a splen- did ship in full sail, bearing the Greek ensign. It moves like a vision of beauty and leaves no cloud upon the sky. It hides between the isles we have passed, then reappears. It is mov- ing toward Modena, which is the port of the WELCOME TO PL. ATI. 2OQ ancient capital of the Ottoman at the foot of Olympus. Now we are within a hundred yards of Plati, but as we cannot land in the launch, we embark on the caique with the fishermen, and are rowed into a little cave, where we are saluted by the sen- eschal of the castle. He is an old man, an Arme- nian, George by name. His last name is the last thing we inquire for. Every one here goes by the Christian name, even the Turks ! The castle is then, indeed, inhabited. Its towers and walls have a relict radiance of past glory. As we enter the chief room an enormous chandelier attracts at- tention. Then the fresco of the walls, the mosaic of the floors, and the tessellated pavements of the courts all speak of occupation and sudden decay. Everything is quiet. No birds sing : not even a cicada chirps. Not a ship or boat is in view. The sea is still. It seems like that primeval time before the winds were loosed from their caves. The water glistens and glows under the July sun. The haze clears away almost entirely. The city of Stamboul rises out of the blue elements. The minarets and cupolas of the mosque of Sulieman- yeh the best specimen of the Osmanli structural genius and the minarets and dome of stately Sofia, seem to gesture upward and swell with new grandeur. Turning to the east, every one of the nine isles are marked in clear outline, except little 14 2 j THE PRINCES ISLES. Pita, which plays hide and seek behind Antigone, and Andirovitha, which lies prone like the dragon under the shadow of St. George of Prinkipo. The clouds still enshroud Olympus on the south, but the outline of the Asiatic coast is becoming more definite. The lower castle is much the larger. It has many chambers reception rooms with fireplaces, as if it might have been comfortable in winter. One of the rooms is a large frescoed hall. It has various bookcases, but no books, only painted titles. They give added mockery to this shell of a castle. Here is "The History of Mehemet Ali ; " there the " Histoire des Arabes;" yonder, Rob- inson's " Palestine," and again here D'Ohsson's " Tableau d'Empire Ottoman." Over a Turkish in- scription I find one most characteristic volume, contents omitted " Notes of Machiavelli and Montesquieu." After looking about the castle on the shore, we mount the hill by a path. We are conducted by the Armenian. He tells us that he farms the property and that that is his consideration for being its chdtelain. I ask : " Do you make any- thing out of it?" " Some years a little. Not much this year." " How many hands do you employ ?" "We have," he replies, "eight persons on the island, including my boy here, Antoine, and my THE CASTLES. 2II wife, who keeps house in the upper castle. The other men are flailing the oats now and caring for the six cows and one bull." The path to the upper castle had once been laid out with skill and fringed with flowers, '^^fleur- de-lis has left its remnants here on the borders. We pass old fig-trees that never fail to live where there is a mouthful of dust, a few olive, ash, and locust trees, remains of old buildings, oratories, convents, and kiosks, and pedestals of carved mar- ble and broken heads of columns, doubtless ravished from old temples and never worked into the projected architecture. Then we stand in front of the main castle. It is surrounded by foli- age. It has even in its ruin a fairylike look. " Perhaps in this neglected spot " Sir Henry hatched many a diplomatic .egg, or revelled in many a bout with his attache's and friends. There is a little touch of the Arabic in the Gothic of the building which destroys its unity. Large rocks and boulders lie about its esplanade. Sheafs of grain are stacked, and some maize and melon patches are on the terraces. The building above is not. so stately as the castle by the sea, but it is in better preservation and is prettier. The rocks are clad in a red lichen ; and vines in good condition are ;n eligible places. Here and there are garden spots, in which are gourds, pistachio nuts, melons, artichokes, and 212 THE PRINCES ISLES. tomatoes in good growth. But the business looks as if it had gone to seed ; so do the peasants, in their Turkish fez, red Greek sash, and baggy breeches. The only healthy and handsome gentle- man on the isle is the bull. We come upon him unexpectedly. He makes a quiet remark in his own tongue, upon which I retreat suddenly. I am happy to see that he is tethered to a stake, which he could not pull up, by a chain he cannot break. His five cows serenely chew their cuds, and give no sign of surprise at our presence near the harem. We stand in front of the castle. The chdt- elaine appears. She is not romantic nor pretty, but polite. The two men stop their flail and come down the circular steps that lead to the por- tal above. On this circled terrace are trees of luxuriant growth and tangled vines in flower. The front of the palace has its windows and doors arched with brown and white stone from Chios. The floors within the rooms are of marble mosaic, and are not yet disarranged by neglect. The ceil- ings of most of the rooms are low, and where the rain has not entered, are as clean as when just frescoed. There are mirrors all about, in the din- ing, library, and other rooms. The colored glass gives a dim religious light to the chambers. But the feature of these apartments is the imitation book-cases. These are cupboards, but their doors are neatly painted with the binding and titles of SHELL OF A LIBRARY. 2 l$ works of all kinds. This seems to have been the ruling passion of Bulwer this outside display of literature. I ask George to open one of the book-cases. Ostensibly it was a library of vol- umes on the English, French, German, and Turk- ish ciiisine. He opens it, and a lot of bottles filled with the vin du pays appear. This evokes a smile all round ; but George does not tender us a perusal of the contents of these brittle books. Here are books entitled " Wine Drinkers," " Geography," and " Metaphysics." Over one door of this library is written in French: "// faut vivre avec ses amis." Over another is the same motto in Turkish. It seems strange that Bulwer should seek such a secluded spot, where friends could rarely come, and where, if the tradi- tions are correct, he was rather limited in his se- lection by number and sex. What a commentary these chambers furnish of the elegant man of the world this type of the accomplished strategist in the wiles of diplomatic war ! Upon these marble floors lie piles of oats and broken straw for the kine, while the sound of the flail keeps time where the golden bowl used to flow and the viands of the epicure were wont to steam. Now the common vegetable used for the peasant's soup called sobitha a kind of seed or nut, is spread in one room, while in another the worm-eaten wooden floor has lost its power even THE PRINCES ISLES. of storage. Upon these desolations the soft hues of the stained archways give a melancholy lustre, which the mirrors yet unbroken on ceiling and on wall reflect in multiform shapes. Some pictures are in the salle a manger, but they are not as fresh as those I saw on the tombs of Egypt, four thou- sand years old. We pass up a stairway of white marble, which is perfect, and the only perfect piece of work remaining. Streaks of white light here shoot through the round windows. Here, too, is another illusory library. One cupboard has a lot of suppos- ititious volumes entitled, " Is Wine Beneficial ? " another in German " Drunken." Secret recesses repeat these illusions. Here, over the bedstead, in an alcove, is a case of " Rfoes " Dreams ! The bedstead is elegant, but the family of the Armenian peasant sleep upon the coarse quilt which covers its gilding. Over the fireplaces are volumes of " Day Dreams," another of " Visions." The outlook over the castellated terrace up-stairs shows the superb sea in its ultramarine robe, and Stamboul the Beauteous ! The upper rooms are hot and close. Some of the doors are screens of flowers in applique, upon cloth, picturing vine, leaf, and grape upon both sides. These rooms are painful to behold, like the wreck of a proud man in the glory of his youth. Upon the floor below, in one of the rooms, TANGLES OF TIME. 215 there lie the disjecta membra of an alabaster vase of proportionate elegance, and chased with the vine, leaf and fruit. I asked George if he thought the ex-Khedive's agent in Constantinople would sell this. "Yes, he would. In fact, it had been once sold to an American, but he had never taken it nor paid for it. Ali Effendi, at Kioskontak, on the Bosphorus, is the agent. See him ! " We passed out into the court. It is not large, say 100 feet square. It has a fountain, but no water. It has flowering shrubs, but their scent is wild, as if the tangle of time had deprived them of sweetness. Weeds, weeds, weeds all, an epitome of the life of their former owner. Some of the walls are tumbling down, and have props, but the arches spring perennially beautiful in their various stones from the island home of Homer. The general color of the building is white, so that the stains of time and weather are plainly apparent. Still the towers remain, and the castellation is clean cut against the sky. The best-preserved portions of the castle are the stables. They are quite roomy. What did Sir Henry want of horses on so small an isle ? I stumbled over an old grist stone made to grind the grain as old as that which Mungo Park's ne- gresses used when he was investigating Africa the counterpart of that which is seen in Egypt to- 2I 6 THE PRINCES ISLES. day. I can understand its utility here in this lonely place. There are fishers' nets lying about in which my feet are entrapped. Their raison d'etre is also apparent, for Marmora is the sea for fish par excellence. I can appreciate the pleasure terrace beyond the palace, looking west, for here the sentimental diplomat of the Bulwer type could profitably muse as he looks off toward sunset and Washington, where his Clayton-Bulwer treaty is still discussed. I can appreciate also the garden of figs and melons between this terrace and the western end of the isle a wild, incongruous ro- mance on durable rock ; for have we not regaled ourselves upon the fresh fig and the delicious mel- ons ? I can imagine a utility in the little lizard which flashes into the sunlight out of the rocks, to give my wife an ejaculatory surprise. Even the snails which cling to the shrubbery have their use, if only as a bait for fish. I can well imagine why the kitchen, with its ovens and wood-house, is separated from the castle, and which still has its use as a chicken-house. The old petroleum cans that lie around have their use as buckets. I can under- stand the compensation which a place of this iso- lated kind, so full of remoteness from the " cries of the people who do come and go, " -furnishes to the jaded intellect and the palled taste of the hot and stifling city. I need not read Ruskin to give emphasis to the utility of beauty, such as this pano- UTILITIES AND INUTILITIES. 2 1 7 rama establishes, with breezy fretwork upon the blue sea, and its inspiration drawn so closely from the fountains of nature. But I cannot fancy what on earth Sir Henry could want, on such an isle, of such stable room for a great stud of horses, who could not caper very nimbly here without falling off into the Marmora sea. Perhaps the solution is found in the Quixotic spirit which erected these castles in such an out- of-the-way spot, or perhaps in the spirit of some of the mock volumes whose titles I read in the lower castle halls, as, ''Themes on the Impossible," or " L' Advantages de la Lune et du Soleil Com- pares," or " Charmes du Manage par un Garon de 80 ans ; " for in their different-colored bindings, blue, red, and green, these odd and outre" titles to textless books render them pretty toilets to the eye which thirsts for the realities which are not within. I said nearly every object here indicates de- cay. There is an exception in front of the castle. It is a good has relief of St. George and the Dragon and an elegant monogram of " H. L. B." This cipher is all that remains to attest the per- sonality of the accomplished diplomatist, who, in making these structures, built more than a Spanish castle. The figments of his brother, Sir Edward Lytton-Bulwer, and the poetry of the son (" Owen Meredith "), who glorified Florence Nightingale by 2i8 THE PRINCES ISLES. a song as sweet as that melodious bird itself can sing, have left their permanent impressions upon our time. But these ruins of mortar and stone, glass and wood, have no meaning except to mark the swift decadence of the statesman who erected them, and of the fall from power of the ex-Khe- dive, Ismail Pasha, who owns them. Thus moralizing, we take our way, after making remuneration to the Armenian keeper for his po- liteness in showing us the realities of these castles, which seem from the Bosphorus and from the other isles like unreal chateaux en Espagne, or castles in the air. We find at the landing the good launch "Sunset" sitting like a bird upon the sea, impa- tient to show off her brand new flag to these ward- ers of this once strange diplomatic chateau. Our ambitions take a more apostolic turn, and, forget- ting diplomacy and its eccentricities, we steam over the clear blue water to Antigone with our fishing caique in the wake. There we enter the caique, and fish for grand pois 'sons, while the launch darts around the isle for the sustenance of our bodies, i.e., lunch. What we caught is nothing to nobody. But we brought home a splendid many-hued string of memories with all the flavor and zest of castle building, without the glamour of antiquity. CHAPTER XIV. PRINKIPO AS A HERMITAGE CLOISTERED AMENITIES A RICH LIBRARY. "THERE is the making of a monk in every man," says Miss Cleveland, in her essay on monasticism. As its complement, it might be said that there is the making of a nun in every woman. Man is more than half a recluse. More than half the time he prefers to be cloistered. Certainly, if he have studious or contemplative tendencies, and had the opportunities and books, he would not mind much isolation from his fellows. John Bun- yan and Cervantes could fill up their time delight- fully, even in jail. Men in these Eastern climes have sought and yet seek the cave and the monas- tery. When the world palls, or ambition is slaked, or the passions are paralyzed, men, and women too, seek diversion in the hermitage. This oc- curred to me when I first looked at my Prinkipo " Castle of Indolence," and isolation. I was ready to say, as I looked at the enchantment of shore, sea and sky : " Here is Nature's grace ! Here are the open windows of heaven ! Here dawn and eve color the vault and deck the blue waves. 219 22O THE PRINCES ISLES. Here are cosy nooks and seats of vantage, far from public work and resort. Here " Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And their toys to the great children leave ; Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave." After a visit to the hermit of Halki, I was more than ever disposed to bless my stars that, for a time at least, I had the privilege of a home remote from all worldly associations, and even from the usual noises and excitements of the isle. After a little, however, my sociality began to assert itself. The little children, the very dogs, chickens and donkeys evoked it. Within our villa and garden there were few or no intrusions. I was content to dream and read, to read and write, until ordered up the mountain for a sanitary stroll. When I came to this villa my first adventure was to the library. The son of the proprietress had been crowned at Cambridge, England, as first in classics. His library, though not large, was pleasing and select. I remembered what Caliban had said of Prospero in the Isle of "The Tem- pest:" " Remember to possess his books ! " I had practised on this Shakesperian edict. One of my victims was our city landlord. I levied on him before I began to prey on the villa library. MISSIRIE 'S LIBRAR Y. 22 j That is why and how I had become master of a library of my own. The hotel most famous in Constantinople is the Hotel d'Angleterre. It used to be kept by Mis- sirie. The soldiers in the Crimean war called his hotel " Misery." My experience in 1881 was that, since it has been kept by the Greek, Logothetti, "word-bearer," it was well kept. I had then the best room, overlooking the Bosphorus and the Sea of Marmora, and I ought to have been content. It was not misery. I was content In rummaging around in the old and odd places of the hotel I found that travellers to the East for fifty years had left books and what not, and that they were gathered in the dusty holes and recon- dite shelves of the hotel. I used to spoil my clean linen by exploiting these places for literary spoil. One book which I found was the volume of an Aus- trian secretary at Moscow, quite confidentially giv- ing a narrative of naked facts about Peter the Great and his diabolism. Only one other copy of the work was ever found. That one was discovered by Eugene Schuyler at Naples. The rest, in the interest and honor of the Czars and their regime, had been destroyed. On my return to Constantinople, in 1885, I went rummaging again. I found that volume gone. Making a bargain with M. Logothetti, I " launched " off to Prinkipo quite a lot of these 222 THE PRINCES ISLES. waifs. They are before me. Here is one ! It has on its fly-leaf the name of Lady Mary Wort- ley Montagu. But can it be her signature? If it were, it would be doubly enhanced. It is only a Gazetteer of the "known world" in 1815, with "im- provements" by Dr. Brookes, of London. It is printed for J. Burnpus. It opens with a map of the world of 1815, from the "best authorities." The imaginary and abstract lines like the poles and circles are in the map, in geometric symmetry ; but between Capricorn and Cancer the goat and the crab in Africa, is " Negro-land," avast space. There is hardly a name between that of " Hot- tentot" and " Barbary." What a filling of space, since by the De Brazzas and the Stanleys, by the Spekes, Livingstones, and Bakers ! Among the definitions of this Gazetteer is this : " That a hill is a small kind of mountain !" This remarkable book begins with four " Aa's." They are rivers in Samogitia, Picardy, etc. It ends with Zytomicrz a town in Poland, but pasted at the end of the zeds, is a poem whose last verse is : " And woman woman ever bright ! I loved thee most, when least sincere." The Gazetteer spells Michigan, Michagan ; Chi- cago as a river or village is not even named. Turning mechanically to the word " Limburg," the Gazetteer says : " It is the place for excellent OLD GAZETTEER. cheese." " Limestone, or Maysville, Ky.," is in the catalogue. Pennsylvania is celebrated for neither coal, iron, nor oil ; but for potash, furs, skins, and wax. Philadelphia the Turks call it Allahhijah had then only two thousand Chris- tians. I beg pardon ; that is the old Philadelphia near Smyrna, where there was one of the seven churches. The capital of Penn's State is said by Mr. J. Bumpus, to have grown so fast that in the lifetime of the first person born in it, it contained forty thousand people. As my mother was born there, it was not exactly a city of brotherly, but of motherly love ; and I am proud to have it said in the Gazetteer that it is near New York and has a magnificent State-house and a Philosophical hall. Illinois is set down as a river in Indiana. New Haven is celebrated for its card-teeth, college, and buttons. Ohio is a State with five districts, of which New Connecticut is one. There are " no slaves " there. Marietta is its largest town ; but Chillicothe is the capital. Massachusetts is well watered and produces plenty of maize, hemp, and copper ! It has a machine for cutting nails, in- vented by Jacob Perkins, which makes 200,000 nails a day ! That State makes 1,900,000 gallons of distilled spirits a year ! New York State has wheat for its staple and abounds in fine lakes. The city of New York is fifteen miles in length, but hardly one in breadth. It has " no basin or 224 THE PRINCES ISLES. bay for the reception of ships, but the road where they lie in East river is defended from the terrific violence of the sea by some islands, which inter- lock each other ! " What a commentary on Long, Staten, and other islets, and Hell-gate and its dynamitic thunders and forces ! Is New York equipped for education and goodness ? Yes. It has "a noble seminary called Columbia College and a magnificent edifice called Federal Hall, where the illustrious Washington took the oath ! It has a botanical garden. In time of peace it has commerce ! In time of war it is insecure. It has no marine force. Philippi is recorded in the Gazetteer only as a town in Macedonia. It is not said that Cassius and Brutus met there at a cross-roads grocery to drink the health of Augustus and Antony, before Christ some forty-two years. Of China it is said that it excels in kitchen-gardens and cultivates the bottom of its rivers. It has trees on which is raised tallow ! The Chinese complexion is a sort of tawny ; and those who are thought to be most handsome are the most bulky. The Chinamen affect pomposity, but their houses are low. The empire existed before Noah's flood. They drink a liquor called ft rack." It is not added what kind of a racket it makes when exported into such unknown realms as Wyoming and California ! Is California gazetteered ? Yes. It is put down CURIOUS CHANGES. 22 * as a peninsula. It is separated from the coast by the Vermilion sea. Of this my friend the pub- lisher and learned author, Bancroft, of San Fran- cisco, will take heed. Galvez found a pearl fish- ery in its gulf I reckon of Colorado. He found mines of gold of a very promising appear- ance. Most Californians use a girdle and a piece of linen for clothing; but further north the Cali- fornians use shells for ornament and live in caves. Its chief town is St. Juan, which makes a wine like Madeira. Saratoga is a town and a fort. It is on the east side of the Hudson. Not to be prolix, the United States itself is summed up in this Gazet- teer as seventeen States. They are well sup- plied with rivers, great and small, springs, and lakes. In the large towns the houses are of brick ; in the others and their environs, of planks ; but eighty miles from the sea, in the Central and Southern States, seven-tenths of the inhabitants live in log houses. These houses are made of the trunks of trees. They are from twenty to thirty feet long and four or five inches in diameter. They are laid upon one another and support their ends into each other. The spaces between the trunks are filled with clay. They have two doors, which are hung with wooden hinges. These doors frequently supply the place of windows. Neither nails nor iron of anv sort are used. 15 226 THE PRINCES ISLES. All this was long before the rivalry between Chi- cago, Cincinnati, and St. Louis. To one interested in our census since 1810 this Gazetteer makes a picture of contrasts interesting and economic. " The chinkin' and daubin' " of even the log cabins of the 1840 campaign seem, to one who has passed through our civil war, as quite a rearward object of domestic architecture. Comparing this description with that of Con- stantinople in the Gazetteer, how great the changes ! These changes indicate civilizing ener- gies even in the capital of Turkey. The descrip- tion of Constantinople almost suits its present con- dition ; but not quite. Its towers and walls its castles and multitudinous houses are the same ! St. Sophia, with its room for 100,000 worshippers, remains. The seraglio burned down some twenty years ago. A railroad now runs around those old walls, out of which the odalisqites of Abdul Mejid peeped thirty years ago, when I first saw it. The bazaars are the same. The Jewish and Armenian traders are the same; but the "great number of girls from Hungary, Greece, Circassia, and Georgia, for the service of the Turks," have greatly diminished. The ambassadors, now as then, live on the Pera side of the Golden Horn ; but the fifty thousand graceful caiques no longer ply upon the Bosphorus for general transporta- CHANGES IN STAMBOUL. ~~~ 227 tion. The Shirket company runs steam ferries up and down the straits, and the azure sky is stained with their coal soot and smoke. A car, run by an endless chain and by the vapor of water, lifts the passenger from the shore at Galata to the top of Pera heights. A street railway plies its work and sounds its horn not only upon the newly-widened streets of Pera, but even in the narrow streets of Stamboul, upon whose travel or travail there look out of the jalousies of the Mos- lem the beauties of the haremlik ! Outside of the great city are the same treeless hills and furrowed vales. Here and there they are green and laughing with cultivation, and not unspeckled with the splendid black and white sheep and goats of the suburbs. As far as the eye can see, the glorious panorama of mountain and water, with the grand prospect of domes, minarets, palaces, armories, arsenals, and barracks, is spread out for the wondering and admiring gaze. The old commanding situation for com- merce and empire remains, and will ever remain. The same Eastern imbroglio continues, from the same old motives, from the same great and greedy powers. Gradually the European elements are encroaching upon Asiatic features and policy. It may be that, before the new century dawns, the dreams of Peter the Great will be realized ; or else that the Greek under some noble impulse, 228 THE PRINCES ISLES. and from consenting and non-conflicting elements, may resume his worship in St. Sophia and his control from the palace of Blachernae. It may be that the capital of old Byzantium will become a free port. All this is problematical, for the Turk may remain under better conditions. Eastward the star of empire may take its way, even though it glimmer within the horns of the crescent. But I was rummaging in my villa library among the lost tribe of books of the old Missirie hostelry. It is the same as ever as in all libraries ; for all libraries when analyzed have their chance compan- ions. Here is a learned treatise by Lord Lindsay on " Christian Art," with its symbolism and mythology, written originally for " Sir Coutts Lind- say, Baronet." It is said to have wings for the artist to the gate of heaven ! Its uncut volumes are as clean as the subject; never having been other than idealized by the sacred quality of the author's mind. Next to these volumes is Eugene Sue's " Martin the Foundling." It has his por- trait in the French toilet of 1847. The book is illustrated by Shepherd. It shows the prevalent taste in unchristian art and literature four decades ago. Hallam next kisses George Eliot's "Gipsy." Plans of fortifications for Crimean struggles lie dormant, next to books on the peace of Christ which passeth all understanding of their proxim- ity. Hepworth Dixon bounds into the arena, PL ORE NCR NIGHTINGALE AND SO YER. 2 2Q along with a dozen books of highly-colored litho- graphs showing the " Dawnings of Light in the East ! " A score of volumes descriptive of all the lands and peoples from Bagdad to Carthage, with here and there love-tokens sent as bookmarks, and flowers from Bethlehem, whose faint odors are all too emblematic ! Mitford's full volumes on Greece sit down with " Gentle Elia," Bulwer's " Rienzi," Tom Moore's " Lalla Rookh," Cicero, and " Eo- then. " But who spreads the feast for these ana- chronistic people? Who? Why, the very prince of the cuisine himself. Soyer makes a " culinary campaign," which he calls historical reminiscences of the late war (Crimean), with the plain art of cookery ! This culinary champion was a confederate of Florence Nightingale in the campaign which she made against the evils of war, in the hospitals of Scutari. In this volume he dishes up many his- torical delicacies. He makes up in succulence of detail what he lacks in literary proficiency ! Per- haps no one in that singular war achieved more reputation than this great chief of the kitchen. He was a practical man. When not organizing his suite in the hospital kitchen for the disabled and wounded soldier, he was purveying in a kind- lier office. That his life was not entirely fruitless of good, his volume fully demonstrates ; for after his laborious campaign, in bidding adieu to his readers, he says : 230 THE PRINCES ISLES. " I do not intend to remain Soyer Tranquille, but I hope to be the means of causing a lasting amelioration in the cooking for all public institu- tions. Such a result of my labors, after my long culinary experience, ought to make an author happy indeed, and I hope for the future to be found as traced below." Here follows, as the curi- ous finale of a useful and benevolent life, his own picture, as he sits felicitously over a glass of Cha- teau Yquem, in some celestial cuisine above the stars ! All through this odd volume of Alexis Soyer Miss Nightingale sings her quiet music of humanity so sweet amid the sensual palate pleas- ures, that "we know not we are listening to it." From all the ends of the earth and from all the aeons of time come forth from Missirie's dusty volumes these controversial, didactic, military, theologic, descriptive, cuisinistic and classic folk dressed in garbs as various as those which make the Stamboul bridge a perpetual kaleidoscope ! Here, in Misery's hotel as some one has sung, but whose music I cannot recall in verse here the rage of controversy ends ; zealots become friends, Socinians abide with Calvinists, and those other Calvinists or Kismetians of Mohammed meet Catholic and Quaker and " Bellemarine has rest at Luther's feet. " ORIENT PEARLS. 2 1 1 I am forbidden by my wife and other powers to write for publication on political and social themes pertinent to this capital of diplomacy. Having, however, the cacoethes equal to any Scotchman, I must be writing something at odd moments. If I cannot make literature of a higher grade, may I not take glances at those who have been creators of that order of work ? It is difficult to find any " Orient pearls" not already discovered and strung. And yet these wonderful seas and waters ought to be gemmed at bottom : but where one wo~uld find pearls he only gets sponges ! It takes away my breath when I think of trying to write of some new thing here. Or, to keep to the metaphor, as in the pearl fisheries of the Red Sea, I am not unlike the diver who does not often obtain the pearls, but, reckless of sharks and death otherwise, he is con- tent with filling his lungs for three minutes and loading his feet with a stone, and, dropping his ballast, to arise with one oyster, whose pearl is not always equal to the effort and occasion. Yet what a sea for pearls of thought pearls of great price is this Mediterranean, which through divers ways leads up to this capital of capitals ! The Mediterranean is called by the Turks the White Sea. It is blue, but cheerful as the white light of unclouded day. It is tideless, but what tides has it not witnessed in the affairs of men 232 THE PRINCES ISLES. taken at the flood by some and at the ebb by others ? It is the sea of historic movements as well as of musical cadences. Troy, Carthage, Byzantium, Athens, Rome, Alexandria - - ever romantic and commercial, classic and barbaric ! Over its waters Crusaders came ; amid its isles Venetian and Genoese sailed. Now upon its bosom steamers of Russia, Austria, France and England ply with ceaseless interchange. But an American vessel with the star-spangled banner- never. " SOYKR TRES HEUREUX ! " CHAPTER XV. THE LIBRARY UNDER NEW ASPECTS. Again the precept of Shakespeare is heard : " Remember to possess his books." Without them, Prospero had not one spirit to command ! When I made the lease of this villa there came into our possession all the lore of the Cambridge scholar, much of which was all Greek to me, especially the modern Greek. It was my custom in the morning, when .the air was cool and fresh, to promenade, book in hand, up to the half- way seat on the mountain side. > Here I could read undisturbed. Here, I re-read Homer, not merely in English, but in the original, with much marking and remarking between the lids of my scholarly landlord's copy. The confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau were found in this library, lying close to some religious Armenian literature. I perused them for the first time under these skies, where Rousseau's father used to live and work too, as watchmaker to His Majesty, the Sultan! How strangely this senti- 233 THE PRINCES ISLES. mental yet gross Franco-Swiss philosopher, with his love of nature and nastiness, his amours and his amiableness impresses one ! His style is so lucent and his artlessness so absolute, that one need not wonder that his social theories, arrayed in alluring garb, caught the fancy and enthralled the emotions of his time. By adding some of my own favorite volumes to these bookish anchorites of our villa, I have read- ing enough. I can accomplish more than Home Tooke did when he was in prison ; for not only have I the " Diversions of Purley" in studying radically many tongues, but I can delve literally into the old earth herself, with Rousseau, in search of medicinal roots, to gratify my botanic fancies. Besides having the launch and the free sea, the flag and " interterritoriality," I am as un- hampered as the botanizing bee or butterfly in our garden, that flies from flower to flower at its own sweet will. But this freedom of motion is not the idea of a hermitage. One of the precious little diamonds in literature, which was presented to me by a D.D., whom we call the " Dreadful Dragoman," is that of P. Gyllii, on the " Topographia of Constantinople." Its frontispiece has the imprimatur and flavor of Munich. It was printed in 1632. It is two hun- dred and fifty years old. Two angels in the frontispiece draw up two curtains between classic DIVERSIONS IN THE LIBRAR Y. columns, in order to display the old city with its mosques and khans. Beneath is* a picture of the Seraglio Point. The houses were far apart then, and the foliage abundant. The same kind of boats float on the current as those of the present day. It is a picture of the city under the Sultans in its primal splendor. I must not omit a glance into an unpretending volume by Edward Bulwer-Lytton, which illus- trates the institutions of ancient Athens. If it be not accurately historic, it is provocative of the study of Mitford, whose nine volumes have each a significant picture, a rich text and learned notes. Bulwer not only illustrates the matchless genius and glory of Greece, but the interesting struggles which her states carried on in these colonial waters, upon whose bosom to-day ride steamers which the classic Greek with all his fleet Mercuries and potential Neptunes never imagined. Some of his chapters and scenes take me to the very boun- daries of Bulgaria, where a Battenberg prince now keeps the Balkans in perpetual turmoil. I confess to a prejudice against Hessians, which these summer studies from this library have strengthened : but I must not confound Prince Alexander of Hesse Darmstadt with that venal scoundrel of Hesse Cassel, who sold his subjects to King George III. of England, to destroy the colonies of America. 236 THE PRINCES ISLES. From the perusal of these histories of human degeneracy, how happy to find the works of the " Gentle Elia." They bring back the remem- brances of summer days, like those we pass here ; and of delightful years, before diplomacy required reserve. His words " Spoken at the Mermaid!" and his sonnets of sweetness and quaint conceits give a vivacity which no carking care about Harpoot schools or Bulgarian atrocities can ever dispel from our diplomatic mind. Here, too, is found hidden between Greek and Armenian tomes, Longworth's " Year Among the Circassians." It was published in 1840. It has some old lithographs of the interiors of Circassian homes. These are rude huts. Few articles of necessity and none of luxury are shown in the pict- ure. Here is a man with a turban. He wears a black beard and a blouse. On his breast are a score of cartridges arrayed tastefully. He sports light stockings and the usual pointed shoes. A saddle and gun, a curved sword and a blanket, with an ottoman sofa or so, for re- clining at meals, or for rest, make up the furni- ture. A fire of faggots is at one end of the hut. There a tea kettle is boiling. A graceful girl, in a pretty bodice of dark material, a skirt of light color, and a tasteful unique head-dress is the cen- tral female figure. A sheep at the door, and a brace of dogs near by, are the accompaniments. CIRCASSIAN HOMES. The household is serving a Persian, Turkish or Jewish visitor with meats and cups of refresh- ment. The hospitality is unbounded. This is the scene, nearly a half century ago, before Schamyl was conquered and the Russian had tri- umphed over native valor and mountain fastness. But the Turk had long before then conquered, by his gold and other agents, the beauties of these mountain homes, for his harems. Buying and selling slaves for wives was then a legal matter. The mountain beauties liked to be sold out of their rude modes of living into the luxurious ease of the grand capital. Any stranger who interfered with the affair of the hadji, or merchant, was left to the cold sympathies of those most nearly interested. The father, or husband, not only often acquiesced in the trans- action, but it was not considered disreputable for an ouzden, or a freeman in good circumstances, to sell his own children. The advantages of a settlement in a good harem in Turkey, was the animus of this business which has given most of the women and mothers to the Turkish harems. Besides, these females received a pretty good edu- cation in Turkey, including religious teaching. Their condition was bettered. Marriage in Tur- key, as I show in another chapter, is comparative freedom. It was not freedom they wanted, but ease and slippered luxury. Fancy gilded their THE PRINCES ISLES. future. They used to bring a higher price if they were something beyond a tobacco-smoking hanoum. Housewifery enhanced their price. Sometimes the best and prettiest were placed in establish- ments, where, under matronly care, they learned to read and write, acquired some Arabic and Per- sian literature, and were taught how to deport themselves gracefully and graciously. It mat- tered not if they were property, when, after they could display their graces of mind and body, they could rise to independence. They could be thus weaned from the dependence which made them submissive to the haughtier sex even in their own Circassian household. When ushered into a more entrancing sphere, let us not. be surprised at seeing in these women of the Circassian moun- tains those gentle qualities, controlling the hardier sex, which form the most attractive features of the Turkish woman, with her languishing eye and splendid figure. The very Spartan vigor and fierceness of the Circassian man, which forbade him to see his wife except stealthily, while it destroyed much of his affectionate nature, gave to the female under such discipline and reserve a constrained and modest demeanor, which is a most seductive part of her loveliness. After many generations, and with the delights and comforts of her new home and the bath, she obtains a complete mastery over herself, and her Turkish GE OR GIAN BE A UTIES. 230 husband and lord. That mastery extends to her children. This makes her a provoking conun- drum to the Frank, and a fascinating dream to all who behold her. The Georgian has a beauty quite different from that of the Circassian. The Circassian is daz- zling, queenlike and stately. She has a fair skin. She is elegant in form. She is kindly and gentle in voice, but lazy in movement and without esprit. One of her own sex has said: " there is no soul in a Circassian beauty; and as she pillows her pure, pale cheek upon her small dimpled hand, you feel no inclination to arouse her into exertion ; you are contented to look upon her and to contemplate her loveliness." The Georgian is a creature with eyes like meteors, and teeth almost as dazzling as her eyes. Her mouth does not wear the sweet and unceasing smile of her less vivacious rival ; but the proud expression that sits upon her finely arched lips accords so well with her stately form and lofty brow that you do not seek to change its character. I have an impression that the Georgian is quite a dominant element in Turkey through the mother. We lose sight of this in our confused estimates of the Orient and its domestic influences. Ever since the i8th of September, 1885, the "ant-hill" of Pera, where the diplomatic people winter, and the palaces of Bayukdere and Thera- 240 THE PRINCES ISLES. pia, where they summer, have been in incessant moil and toil over the perpetual question of the East. Many of the books which I found at Mis- serie's old Hotel d'Angleterre, and which I was allowed to import to Prinkipo, were on this subject. They were not diverting ; and yet they were full of eventualities which never happened, and of prophesies of new phases in which fresh delimita- tions of frontier and changes of dynasties came and went in mosaic confusion. They show the futility of a priori reasoning. They were big with the fate of empires and of men, but other- wise little. One prospect appears all through this class of literature. It is a " Dawning in the East " which has never yet dawned. And yet where else should there be dawn ? I open a vol- ume with this phrase as a title. It was written at Bagdad in 1853. Was that locality too far East to enjoy a dawn ? This writer indulged in roseate hopes for the Jews in Persia, Kurdistan and Chaldea ; but the past thirty years have not verified his optimistic predictions, either as to Jew or Gentile. The Euphrates still runs down, the tents of the Bedouin are still on its banks and the projected railroad of the .valley is still a dream of the engineer. But the missionaries continue their work ; and, although surrounded by Bedouins, we have the same good report every day of advancement in PROGNOSTICATIONS. 24! teaching the native as to his life and letters, and the prevalence of brigandage by Circassian vil- lains. My view of Turkey is more hopeful. From the Robert College, if permitted to continue its work, may come the redemption of the time and of Asia Minor, Syria and the Balkans. Princes may come and princes may go into these struggling lands, but at last the potent secret will be revealed, and the light of America will illume the forlorn peasant homes of these historic and much-vexed lands. What next ? A weather-stained volume called " Turkey and its Resources," by Urquart, pub- lished in 1853. The author is more economic than prophetic. He had inklings that the adhe- sion of the various parts of Turkey were soon to be a thing of the past ; and yet he was surprised that Turkey still was languishing and lingering. He finds the secret of this cohesion of empire in muni- cipal organization. This was not an accident, in his opinion, but an organic principle of Arabic legislation. The free states of Greece were the models, in fact the origin, of this Home Rule, which binds the tribes of the East in some sort of unity. One of the strange things which this author dis- cerned and which the Turks could not understand was : How can a free land tax commerce and sur- vive. This problem is commended to my own countrymen for solution. 16 THE PRINCES ISLES. One volume, in gilt attire like a pasha at Bairam, fairly leaps out of its shelf to greet my eye with its large and elegant typography and its interest- ing contents. It is the fifteenth edition of Sir Edward Creasy's " Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World, from Marathon to Waterloo." Upon the fly-leaf I find the name of my landlord, with the script : " First in classics, Xmas '66. L. F. B." and on the cover, in grand style, two phoenixes, not one only as it is fabled, and over them " RUGBY SCHOOL." If the date were only contemporaneous with " Tom Brown," or Dr. Arnold, there would be added another employment for analogy. On the occasion of urging upon Congress the erection of the Saratoga monument, I had said that Saratoga was one of the pivotal battles of the world. I find Saratoga in this volume. It is headed by Bishop Berkeley's poetic " Star of Empire," and Lord Mahon's pregnant words : <4 that the surrender of the thirty-five hundred fighting men at Saratoga, had been so fruitful of results, that it not only changed the relations of mankind and the feelings of England toward the American colonies, but it modified for all time to come the connection between every colony and every parent state." Mentally, I made the com- ment which the recent excitement about Ireland suggested. What eventful connections have since grown out of the insurgence of the thirteen col- ENGLISH POWER. onies toward the vast colonial dependency of Great Britain ! Hanging on the wall in this suggestive library is a chart of the power of Great Britain. Every continent is represented. Her immense dominion is typified by various races pictured on the chart. Along with it, as the commentary, come to my mind the stirring words of Gladstone, as I heard them uttered at the Robert American College commencement in July, by a Celtic boy with a Bulgarian brogue, who recited the conclusion of the great oration on behalf of a statutory Parlia- ment and Home Rule for Ireland ! A pardonable patriotic pride in the college, and in the doctrine and in the contest at Saratoga, and even in the testy Englishman, General Gates, whom I never could admire, begat much toleration even toward the traitor, Benedict Arnold. For had he not, in disregard of orders, given his splendid personal courage to that pivotal battle, whose results the reluctant step-parent was all too slow to recognize, but which the world has not failed to honor ? It is one of the " Pleasures of Prinkipo" that in this library, and from Lord Byron's poetry and Michel de Montaigne's essays, I have taken fresh quaffs of nectared delight. Byron's fine appre- ciation of the East and Montaigne's scholar- ship, frankness and genius have filled up many golden hours and sped them with flying feet. 244 THE PRINCES ISLES. Byron, more than any other poet, not excepting Lamartine, has disentangled the sensuous pleas- ure and historic appreciation of the Orient, and woven the many-tinted threads into robes of im- purpled texture. If his " Bride of Abydos " is silly, as a tale, its scenes of domestic seclusion, and its gorgeous pictures of water, sky and earth, diamonds, stars and flowers, never fail to be quoted by the young who repair hither to fill their golden urns of imagery, and by the old, who renew here their early dreams of luxuriant life. As a foil and contrast to this literature of the Orient, I happen upon a half-covered volume of Frankenstein. It was penned fifty years and more ago, when this sombre literature enthralled the literary world. But where now is the weird mon- ster of Mary Shelley's prolific imagination ? And yet, in this day of marvels in physical science, the creation of a human frame by human skill, and endowing it with the principle of life, may not seem as bold as it did in 1831. But as a figment of the brain, it is, as the author urges, of the same type as the " Iliad," the " Tempest," and " Paradise Lost." Its first scene is laid in the region of the frozen North ; but its bewildering magic emanates from the Orient. What Paracelsus and Albertus Magnus taught, are they not prefigured in the monstrous beings of the " Thousand and One Nights ? " The idea of constructing a being of gi- THE MAGICIANS OF THE EAST. 245 gantic mould and infusing into it the vital spark, together with the terrible Nemesis of the story, is of the Orient, all complete. Beside, is not the Orient the home of the Magi ? Have not the fire worshippers made its sacred fires perennial and poetical ? Even at this day, the naphtha of Baku has its religious associations, to which the muse of Moore gave melody. How small the world of fact and fancy is ! How near akin are the delusions of the past to the science of the present ! Aye, even in these library shelves of Prinkipo, I gaze with awe, not unmixed with wonder, upon two books bound in bloody red, which connect my daily diplomatic duty with the poetry of the past and the rites of the Parsee. The next chapter will elucidate the relation. It would fill a volume were I to recount the rich variety of the thesaurus of the library which came to us with our villa. Here on one shelf is Sir John Lubbock's " Origin of Civiliza- tion " and " Primeval Man." In strange juxtapo- sition I find the complete works of Moliere. On opening the latter I find this commendation by his editor: "Deux species sont passes, dit avec raison M. Bagou, et nous at tendons encore" Moliere's genius of comedy has had more than his two centuries, but wherever the keen French wit predominates, as it does in the Orient, his works are perused with much riant enthusiasm. 246 THE PRINCES ISLES. Alongside of Herschel's " Physical Geography," with its revelations of our earth and seas, lands and minerals, snows and rain falls, caloric and magnetism, I find a strange volume whose title is "Inquire Within Upon Everything." On inquir- ing, I find an interesting discussion which vindi- cates the letter H in the English vocabulary, or rather its omission, as being a correct mode of speech. In fact, this book answers all queries from the killing of vermin to the style of a frock; from the selection of a dining-table to the carving of a turkey or the decoration of a room. Here in one corner of the library I find, "Boner Hunting Chamois in the Alps;" in another place, " A Golden Treasury of Lyrics." "Zadkiel's Astrology" astonishes, by its prox- imity to " The Chemistry of Common Life." Macaulay and the " Waverley Novels" are snugly hid along with Thucydides and Plutarch. Paley shakes hands with our own Maury, and " Henry Esmond" with Homer, ^Eschines and the whole cohort of Greeks. Here is Carey's Gradus ! It takes us up the heights of Olympus. But is there anything in the library pertinent to my own life in the East ? Yes : " Chesterfield's Letters to his Son." I open it at page 301. It gives me ad- vice for a most pressing emergency at the Porte. "Why is it," it asks, "that negotiators have always been the politest and best bred men in the CHESTERFIELD 'S AD VICE FOLLO WED. world in company?" Ahem! Then he proceeds to say : " For God's sake, never lose view of these two, your capital objects : bend everything to them, try everything by their rules, and calculate everything for their purposes. What is peculiar to these two objects is, that they require nothing but what one's own vanity, interest and pleasure would make one do independently of them. If a man were never to be in business, and always to lead a private life, would he not desire to please and to persuade ? S.o that in your two destinations your fortune and figure luckily conspire with your van- ity and your pleasures. Nay more ; a foreign minister, I will maintain it, can never be a good man of business if he is not an .agreeable man of pleasure too. Half his business is done by the help of his pleasures ; his views are carried on, and perhaps best, and most unsuspectedly, at balls, suppers, assemblies, and parties of pleasure ; by intrigues with women, and connections insensi- bly formed with men, at those unguarded hours of amusement. " These objects now draw very near you, and you have no time to lose in preparing yourself to meet them. You will be in Parliament almost as soon as your age will allow, and I believe you will have a foreign department still sooner, and that will be earlier than ever anybody had one." 248 THE PRINCES ISLES. With one or two exceptions, which I will not notice, I have endeavored to practice, and not without some success, these Chesterfieldian pre- cepts. In fact, it was in pursuance of their sug- gestions that I was enabled to accomplish what the President was pleased to commend in his last Message, in behalf of American interests at the Porte. It was because of this accomplishment- thanks to Lord Chesterfield that I concluded to return home, after diplomacy did not, and as my new service does not, require so many and such peculiar sacrifices to the graces. CHAPTER XVI. INFERNAL FIRE AND LALLA ROOKH DIPLOMACY THE ROMANCE AND POETRY OF PETROLEUM. I CAME to take an interest in the matters indi- cated by the head of this chapter because my official duty required me to examine into certain petroleum frauds on our trade in the classic isle of Mitylene. This interest was spurred by some happy coincidences, partly literary and partly .social. Thus it happened to " concatenate ac- cordingly." Twenty-six years ago I wandered into a store near my law office in Cincinnati, Ohio. It was kept by the Messrs. James. I opened an exquisite edition of Thomas Moore's " Lalla Rookh." That book, the dandyism of all literary Orientalism, was en toilette in gold and ruby ruby predominant. I read the dedication to Samuel Rogers. When I opened the same volume, the other day, in my library in Prinkipo, the " Pleasures of Mem- ory " returned. I recalled, by a system of mne- monics, my Cincinnati experience as a young lawyer or, rather, as an inchoate lawyer, then studying how Law limped after Justice in vain ; 249 THE PRINCES ISLES. for I am not aware that in the three decades or more since, Law has overtaken her healthier sister. Many a time since I have seen Law stum- ble, just as she was about to join hands with Jus- tice and assist the latter to bear the scales aloft. Eheu ! Posthume ! How the years have glided away since that morning of my life, when " Lalla Rookh " was one of the sources of my inspiration, and before petroleum had lighted my student's lamp in this Eastern capital. During one of the damp, foggy, gloomy days of the past winter, a stranger from New York was announced. I hastened to the reception room, and while awaiting him I picked up, by way of passing the time, that very volume of " Lalla Rookh." It has followed the author around this planet and gives much comfort by its sensuous imagery and impearled ideas. But on this oc- casion this beauteous work was all aglow with its ruby and gold. It lay next to a terrific volume called the " Region of Eternal Fire," dressed like Mephisto himself, and sporting gold-leaf all over its diabolic cover. It was Marvin's account of a journey to the petroleum regions of the Caspian in 1883. The book, its cover, and contents de- served the sinister title. But what has the Nourmahal to do with these subterranean deviltries ? This much : That the place in " Lalla Rookh " upon which I happened V ARMENIA , PERSIA /** TEHERAN THE REGION OF FIRE AND PETROLEUM. MOORE'S FIRE WORSHIPPERS. 2 $l in my momentary vagary gives a description of Ivan's outlawed men the worshippers of fire ! It locates them near Yezd's eternal mansion of caloric " Where aged saints in dreams of heaven expire ; From Baku, and those fountains of blue flame That burn into the Caspian." To this verse there is an annotation which in- dicates the historic facts to which Marvin alludes in his practical observations viz., that about Baku, from early times, the sun and fire worship- pers abided and that they kept illuminated the fires with vestal vigilance for 3000 years on a sacred mountain near Yezd, called Ater Quedah. He was reckoned unfortunate who died away from that mountain. Another note to Moore's verse says : " When the weather is hazy on the Caspian shore the springs of naphtha on an island near Baku boil up higher, and the naphtha often takes fire on the surface of the earth and runs in a flame into the sea, to a distance almost incred- ible." This edition of " Lalla Rookh" was of 1849, and the notes were by the author as early as 1817 ; so that Baku, now so famous, and to Americans so troublesome and interesting as a competitor, is not a new place as a fiery resort or as a theme for literary exercise. 252 THE PRINCES ISLES. The odd coincidence of the proximity of these volumes on my table, and the other fact that I opened the poetic volume by chance upon the verse and notes quoted, gave rise to a new marvel. It was this : My visitor was an agent of the Amer- ican Standard Oil Company ! He was en route to Baku ! He was about to sound the depths, vol- ume, and values of these remarkable wells ! This visitor was the shrewdest man I met in the East. He was looking after his business and the new light of Asia with a watchful eye on Baku. He intended to go there. He did go. He returned and reported. He did not say much. He was writing it all up for his employers. I propose to do a little of this for my readers, since it combines the utilities of light and life with the elegance of poetry. To do this I must draw upon Marvin's " Eter- nal Fire." Marvin is not a slow, infrequent, or unknown w r riter. He is voluminous. He was the correspondent of the London Morning Post on many a well fought journalistic field. He it was who wrote the " Russians at Merv and Herat," " The Russian Advance Toward India," " Merv, the Queen of the World," " Reconnoitring Cen- tral Asia," etc. He captured the Caspian, if ever man did, by way of penetrating its physical and political secrets. Mr. Marvin's new Inferno is the result of BAKU ENTERPRISE IN OIL. much research, for he has exhausted the literature of petroleum as well as its physical phenomena. That literature is by no means limited to " Lalla Rookh." Names that give one the lockjaw to pronounce, such as Gulishambamp, Markooriskopf, Ogloblin, Mendeleiff, Gospodin, Polelika, and others have given to the petroleum industry of Baku and of Russia much chronicle and many statistics. Yet Mr. Marvin's book seems to have rather a tendency toward a high appraisement of the Messrs. Nobel and their great genius for engi- neering, and properties in oil. I could not rise from its perusal without that impression. The engravings in the book of the Nobel works are interesting, but I should say that Nobel drew something in favor of Marvin for them. But are not these enterprising Swedi'sh men worthy of all that is said and pictured ? The brothers Nobel have dabbled in dynamite and triumphed in tor- pedoes ; but their enterprise at Baku in laying down the first pipe-line and by replacing barrels with cistern steamers in fact, by organizing an oil fleet and making communication over the shal- lows of the Volga by tank-cars, with depots over Russia, and soon to be extended elsewhere is a romance worthy of celebration by pen and pencil, a romance greater than that of which Tom Moore sings. How the Nobel business is carried on, all for cash, how the brothers have passed crises in 2^4 THE PRINCES ISLES. the financial world, how they have harnessed the Russian government to their petroleum-car, how their business has become nearly a monopoly by reason of their peculiar mechanical skill and ap- pliances, is it not written by Marvin in a most fas- cinating manner ? Whether you consider the ma- terial wonder described by Major-General Gold- sword in 1870, when he saw natural petroleum gas fires which had been flaring more than 2 500 years ; or whether igniting in the furnaces of a hundred steamers on the Caspian and Volga ; or the enor- mous subterranean reservoirs which science here locates ; or the great ridge beneath the Caspian, from shore to shore and beneath the Caucasus, from sea to sea ; whether this useful element be found beneath the barren steppes or under the mountain chains, or whether it rises in columns like the geysers of Iceland or the Yellowstone ; whether, as at Findlay, Ohio, or at Allegheny City, Pennsylvania, it is made to move machinery and illuminate great workshops ; whether its streams come forth in iridescent beauty the iris out of whose black unfragrance comes the pig- ments for the painting of my lady's robe or her maid's frock ; whether it exudes from the sodden soil or is used for watering the dusty streets of Baku ; or whether it weaves by locomotion and the swift-flying shuttle of interchange a new civil- ization, it is at once a theme for the muse of THE PARSEES. Moore and the speculations of the bourse. If it be true, as is alleged, that a single man pricked the earth near Baku and wasted 50,000,000 or 100,000,000 gallons of good oil enough to supply and light London for years then poetry has lost its license, and should turn over its office to a tenth muse, which I christen the " Muse of Mechanism," to sing in oily numbers these natural glories and humanities of the earth. Outside of the mercenary view of this burning question, it may be stated that the Parsee still lives ; but fuel to feed his sacred fire is now an expensive item. Yet it must be supplied when- ever a new temple is dedicated. Sixteen different kinds of wood, in one thousand and one pieces of fuel, are required to obtain the sacred flame. This is afterwards fed with sandal-wood, and the cost of the process averages $7500. There are still three large and thirty-three small fire-temples at Bombay ! They are by no means inexpensive. The fire worshipper is no longer paramount in Persia. Zoroaster no longer teaches his peculiar doctrine. Nine-tenths of the Persians are Ma- hometans. There has been a perpetual perse- cution of those who remain faithful to the fiery tenets of their forefathers. For twelve hundred and fifty years the Guebres (the name from which the Gaiour, or infidel, is taken) have sur- vived. They pay their devotion to the life-giving THE PRINCES ISLES. principle of the sun. They do not worship the sun. They worship God, its creator ; the Being who is supreme over fire and light. The Guebres are an honest race. They are of the pure Persian stock, when Persia was of some account in the conduct and history of the world. Most of the Parsees reside in India. Their homes are in Bombay and in Calcutta. Out of the hundred thousand who survive, only about seven thousand are left in Persia. Their worship is singularly beautiful, symbolical, and not at all unworthy of the great demonstration which nature makes in and around Baku. It is by no means unworthy of the auroral splendors of the dawn when its most prominent observances hail the coming day ! That people which does not enjoy light and fails to illumine, wherever and whenever nature makes provision, are the laggards in the human race. The fire worshippers love the light and their ways are not evil ! Sometimes these fountains of naphtha create a volcano whose sudden outbursts quite swamp the little buildings around. It is not a volcano of fire so much as of hot mud. Some time ago there was an explosion about ten miles from Baku, and a column of fire shot up three hundred and fifty feet high. The country was illuminated. The heat was perceptible miles away. Little damage was done, for there was no wind, The volume of KEROSENE AS A C2VILIZER. 257 muddy liquid thrown up was estimated in Russian, which I cannot interpret, except by the vague data that it spread itself over more than a square mile, and to a depth of from seven to fourteen feet! David A. Wells, in his new book called " A Study of Mexico," regards the kerosene lamp as one of the motors of civilization in Mexico, only next after the railroad. In urging the reciprocity treaty with America he indicates how a bright, new, little kerosene lamp became to him the most remarkable and interesting object of importation from the United States to that country. It was to him " remarkable and interesting, because neither the man nor his father, possibly since the world to them began, had ever before known any- thing better than a blazing brand as a method for illumination at night, and had never had either the knowledge, the desire, or the means of obtain- ing anything superior. But at last," says Mr. Wells, " through contact with and employment on the American railroad, the desire, the op- portunity, the means to purchase, and the knowl- edge of the simple mechanism of the lamp, had come to this humble, isolated Mexican peasant ; and out of the germ of progress thus spontane- ously, as it were, developed by the wayside, may come influences more potent for civilization and the elevation of humanity in Mexico than all that 17 258 THE PRINCES ISLES. church and state have been able to effect within the last three centuries." The same may be said, with even more empha- sis, about our petroleum interests in Turkey. The petroleum can and lamp play a double purpose ; the one as a tin bucket and the other as a vessel for the fluid which gives so much comfort to the dark places of the East. It supplies, in fact, the lamp of Aladdin, from whose friction sprang rare and wonderful opulence. It is generally supposed that Job was a rich man. Perhaps many of his boils and broils came out of the fact that he was an opulent liver. Con- sidering the land of Uz as we now find it, one would suppose there w r as very little wealth in it. We have not a very clear idea of it. Job must have worked several gangs of slaves on fruitful ground in the desert. He had some connection with the petroleum industry of the Euphrates, although it has never been thoroughly acknowl- edged. Job acquired his large fortune from the uncertain element of the petroleum wells. Some- times they gave him abundance ; at other times, like the wells around Pittsburgh, they gave him nothing. There can be little doubt that when his wells caught fire, it spread fire on the prairie, and not only destroyed houses, and flocks, and children, but reduced Job to a considerable amount of pro- fanity and scalding sores. Whatever may be said, ASP HAL TUM MARE. 2 $Q however, about this remarkable man, it is very certain that before his time many years before his time the Dead Sea, the Asphaltum Mare, was the result of a vast eruption of which oil was the principal ingredient. Its surface is below other sea levels. The earth's crust must have been rather thin there, so easily was it ruptured. Otherwise the five cities of the plain might to-day be rivals of Chicago or Birmingham. The Dead Sea is very salty. In boring for petroleum saline springs are often tapped. But for the tap in the crust, when Lot fled from Sodom, Jordan might not have been deflected from its course, and Canaan might still have been a land for the sacred lyric muse beyond all the music of the Methodist or the rhapsodyof the Russian devotee. There is no doubt that petroleum bubbles up to the surface of the Dead Sea and that the sun's rays solidify it. This is asphaltum the purest bitumen. It is known in Egypt as the element by which the mummies were made up for immor- talization. Herodotus (I seldom quote him with- out thinking of his title as " the father of liars ") has made several remarks about petroleum. I will not quote, for fear I may be challenged to the proof. I turn to Plutarch, who had a sense of veracity. He confirms Herodotus and we will take Herodotus into our confidence for this occasion only. Plutarch describes certain re- 2 6o THE PRIKCES ISLES. markable phenomena in which fire is an element. In fact, the oil to which he calls attention was burned in the ancient lamp. It was known to the Romans as Sicilian oil. From Persia to Italy, from Hafis to Horace, the lamp which gave its sweetness to love and its glory to the Augustine age was fed from the burning spring of the Orient the same wonderful phe- nomena of which Zoroaster was the prophet, and the Parsees the devotees. It is not my purpose to make a disquisition upon petroleum. The genius of man is penetrat- ing the crust of the earth in its every part ; and from the shores of the Caspian to China and Japan, from Formosa to the Punjab, aye even out of the lost Atlantis, in the Bermudas, the Canadas and Pennsylvania, this element of fire leaps to the surface at the touch of the diviner's wand. It is, however, to the United States that this industry owes its highest refinement and per- fection of distribution. The carrying of oil from the springs to the refineries in pipes, over thou- sands of miles and from hundreds of reservoirs ; the genius by which through chemistry this oil is purified ; the immense Standard Oil Company, with its capital of twenty odd millions ; our ex- ports, which from New York alone are over forty millons of barrels, nearly all refined, call up an image of prosperity in an olden trade. IS PE TROLE UM A SAFE MO TOR ? 2 6 1 One drawback to the use of petroleum has been recently developed. It is very doubtful, judging by the terrible explosion recently on the " Petri- ana," one of the tank steamers, whether or not it is possible to work the petroleum vessel. The crew having taken naked lights into a tank-room which had been somewhat strained in a gale, the gas was fired. Great loss of life ensued, and the inference is that if petroleum is ever used for fuel in loco- motives and ships, there will be plenty of accidents after this pattern. This trouble is likely to be ob- viated. Whether you consider this petroleum develop- ment in the nebulous glimmer of ancient and religious history, or in the blaze of modern science applied to labor-saving machinery, is it not marvel- lous ? Whether it make out of the Caspian a grand commerce and revolutionize and perhaps rescue people who have, like the Armenians, lost their nationality and home, this marvel may again be, as it was to ancient Greek and Roman navigators, a Pharos arresting attention and giv-* ing safety to the almost despairing barks of human hope and happiness. Is it therefore wonderful that the ancient world, seeking a religion with mysterious rites, should find in this awful and unknown element of eternal fire its sacred symbol and worship ? The Greek had his Vul- can, or Hephaestus ; but the Persian, with like 2 62 THE PRINCES ISLES. aspiration, made fire not merely the emblem of the divine intelligence, but of God himself ! The Jews connected fire with Jehovah. The burning bush revealed their God. A sacred flame burned unceasingly in the temple. When, there- fore, from the soil or from the fissures of the lime- stone of Baku the gas issued, it became a light through the labyrinths of devotion into the un- seen world. When Moses was a child, a thousand years be- fore Christ, the disciples of Zoroaster made pil- grimages to Baku. Its sacred soil was known to the Saracens as early as A.D. 600. The Parsees here worshipped until the conquering iconoclastic Moslem, with his one ineffable, invisible Allah, destroyed the temples of fire and the illusions of the Magi. As late as the twelfth century pilgrim- ages of the fire worshippers were permitted under Persian conduct. Since that time we have ac- counts of this strange fire, and its utilities in giv- ing light, in slacking lime and in cooking victuals. Petroleum is the " Seneca oil " of our own In- dians. They used it for medical purposes. " The Russians drink it," says a writer, ''as a cordial!" What will not a Russian drink, regardless of odor or vigor? It was good for "sore heads;" for scorbutic pains, gout, and cramps. It was early an article of commerce. It had its factories. But never until lately, except perhaps in some of the PETROLEUM A FACTOR OF PROGRESS. 263 lost arts, has it been used as a motor of machinery and a factor of progress. While it has flamed about Baku, empires have risen, ripened, and rot- ted. CHAPTER XVII. JAUNT TO THE PALACE OF BEYLERBEY ITS ASSOCI- ATIONS, MENAGERIE AND TIGER RULES FOR A TIGER-HUNT. THERE is one portion of the Bosphorus on the Asiatic side, known as Kandilli. The whole har- bor of Constantinople is in full view from this point. From time immemorial it has been called the place "gifted with lanterns." Just below it, is the modern Turkish village of Beylerbey. From one village of Turkey and its quiet life you may learn of all. Here are the houses and cot- tages, the little mosque, the bay- trees, and the cemetery. Yonder is the good Imaum, the Han- oum to be respected, and the Pasha in all his dig- nity. There is the country bumpkin at his marriage, too bashful to venture through the midst of the young girls of the village to fetch away his bride according to the usual custom. Sometimes, but rarely, you see a sottish son or wild daughter who furnishes the topic of multitu- dinous gossip for the many mothers-in-law. That street Arab is eating simits the ring-shaped bread with sesame seed upon its shining surface. 264 A ROYAL PERSONAGE. 2 fa Here, in short, are all the ups and downs of hum- ble fortune ; but among them all is preserved the beautiful Oriental custom of taking home to the family the evening presents. I have a special memory of Beylerbey, not so much, indeed, of its charming environments, as of a brief interview I once had there with a royal personage. He was the last of an ancient line a prisoner of state ; alas ! confined by the decree of the Sultan within the appanage of the palace demesne. What his offence or treason was I never sought to know. It makes me sad to think of him. It is not safe to become too familiar with such victims of Oriental despotism. I saw him but a few brief moments. I looked upon him ; and for this indiscreet curiosity alone I yes I, the Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipoten- tiary of the United States of America, came near forfeiting my existence. I had to run for my life to fly to my little launch, which was the only vessel in the harbor bearing our ensign at that time. Surely this ought to be a lesson to Con- gress, in respect of our decrepit navy ! Diplo- macy compelled me to pocket the indignity I suf- fered. Disagreeable as this incident was, it had its ludicrous aspect as the reader will see further on. Beylerbey was not always a place of confine- ment for prisoners of state. In ancient days it 266 THE PRINCES ISLES. was a favorite pleasure retreat of the Byzantine emperors. It had then its famous Greek church, Chrysoxeramos of the golden tiles. When the Turks came they gave the place the name of "Joy Unceasing." It long remained the chosen residence of the Sultans, who preferred the Asiat- ic to the other side of the Bosphorus for the sum- mer season. It still retains much of its imperial enchantments and entanglements, as I found out on my first visit, but not with " unceasing joy." Among the several palaces on the eastern side of the Bosphorus are the palaces of Istavros, Chengel, Keui, Kouleh, and Kandilli, but the pal- ace of Beylerbey is the most beautiful and re- nowned of them all. It was built by Mahmoud II. for a summer residence. It rose like an ex- halation to sweetest music. It was planned in a dream, beneath the shadow of an Oriental moun- tain, in an hour of golden luxuriousness and in- dolence, and carried into execution during a fit of elegant caprice. When the beautiful Empress Eugenie visited the Orient at the opening of the Suez canal, the reigning Sultan, Abdul Aziz, went to many ex- cesses of magnificent courtesy, including the dedi- cation to her use of the Beylerbey palace. It was then completely refurnished. The upholstery was of velvet and satin. The decorations of the cham- ber of the Empress were copied from those in the THE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS. Tuilleries. A magnificent caique, marvellous be- yond the dreams of Cleopatra, was built ex- pressly for Her Majesty. It had all the Oriental appointments and rich carvings in gold, while everything was ready to be served in European or Asiatic fashion to gratify her womanly and regal caprices. There were also special services, thoroughly Turkish, with all their environments. Upon the princely dining table there were rare silver services, Broussa silk napkins, embroidered with gold and silver, and golden dishes studded with turquoises, and everything to give Oriental taste and tone to the repast. The Sultanas act- ually drank champagne to the Empress' health. For the first time, these Mussulman ladies sipped the liquor forbidden by Mahomet. It made the young hilarious and the old happy. Singers and dancers gave variety to the regal welcome. The Empress learned to smoke cigarettes, perfumed with Orient odors. She had near her two charm- ing young women of the East, as interpreters and companions. One of them was Nazli Hanoum, a princess of Egypt, and grand-daughter of Me- hemet Ali. Her life since these joyous scenes has had its mournful experiences. One of these is associated with the writer. It came innocently enough from our courtesy to this fair Mahometan Albanian at Prinkipo, which led to certain illegal proceedings recorded in this volume. 2 68 THE PRINCES ISLES. There is a kiosk, almost wholly of glass, at each end of the sea-wall, which protects the palace grounds of Beylerbey. The interior of each is furnished with a broad divan in blue and straw- colored satin. Behind the wall there are terraced gardens rising in tiers, one above another, where flowers and fountains abound. Upon the highest point of the grounds are the ostrich gardens ; and formerly there was a rare menagerie there. All the animals are gone except the ostriches and a lone tiger. I emphasize the tiger. Hereby hangs my tale. The palace is upon the lower terrace of the garden, not far from the Bosphorus. It is a building of three stories. It is of pure white marble. It is ornate in style. It is not palatial in extent, but it is a gem of Oriental architecture. The broad vestibule leads into a grand central chamber which is lighted from the roof. Here is a staircase of unequalled beauty and superb decoration. Marble columns support the galleries of the floors above. Walls, floor and ceiling are of marble. It the centre of the main hall is a grand fountain, with innumerable jets shooting their sheafs of silver with a murmurous music into the quiet air. From this central hall various rooms open. Here the Grand Duke Nicholas, after the treaty of San Stefano had relieved the city from Russian THE TIGER, IN ROYAL STATE. 269 occupation, held high court and carnival, following the example of the Empress Eugenie. Here rat- tled and clanked over the marble pavements the spurs and sabres of the Russian officers. Here the then young Sultan, Abdul Hamid, came to make his courtesies to the Czar's representative. But of more vital interest to me than all these scenes of departed pomp and pageantry was the last remaining animal of the Sultan Abdul Aziz's menagerie. He was a royal Bengal tiger. I made my homage to his royalty as he couched and pant- ed in his confinement. " He was the sole relic of old Priam's pride ! " It is not unusual in the palaces around Con- stantinople to illustrate the parks and gardens with some very vivid pictures of natural history. The Sultan has within his grounds at Yildiz several aviaries of rare birds. He has a remarka- ble collection of pigeons, and, along with a small, but very select, menagerie, some 200 fine horses. These horses are exercised in a riding school where the Circassian guards sometimes exhibit their feats. His Majesty is accustomed to shoot wild fowl, which are decoyed to his little lakes within the palace enclosure. And, like other and more ultra- Oriental princes and emperors of the Tartar race, he occasionally summons for his recreation a sweet singer, or a conjuror, or a dwarf, or all -of these together ; but in their midst a young tiger, 270 THE PRINCES ISLES. whose antics are more terrifying than harmful, is not unfrequently introduced for the gratification of the company, or the delight of the harem. In an excursion to the Bosphorus from our Isle of Prinkipo I had the honor of gallanting, under a special firman from the Sultan, a company of some twenty-five ladies and gentlemen. They were mostly of American nationality. After observing the wonderful riches of the treasury at Seraglio Point, with all its crowns, batons, arms, scimitars, robes of state and royal jewellery, and the usual touristic visit to Dolma Batche, the most beautiful palace in the world, our launch bore us across the Bosphorus to the palace of Beylerbey. Sauntering through its sylvan shades we come to the ostrich farm upon the lofty heights. They may be tame birds, but they show considerable fierceness when we observe them. No one ven- tures in their midst. But what most attracts our attention here is a cage, some forty by thirty feet, in which is confined the royal tiger. He is the prisoner to whom I have referred so touchingly. No doubt he has many strange graces and accom- plishments and, doubtless, some crimes to atone, but I am not sufficiently ''close to His Highness" to note his graces or vices. I keep a respectful distance, for his cage looks old and shaky. Its iron bars are suggestively slim. The tiger lies in a crouching attitude with eyes ablaze, as if AN UNDIGNIFIED RE TREA T. 2 7 1 intent on gratifying some carnivorous propensity. Some of the company playfully pitch pebbles at him to arouse him. I do not. I stand in the middle of the road. He does not notice the rest of the company. Evidently he desires to receive no one of less rank than a Plenipotentiary. Horresco refer ens ! In the twinkling of an eye, he springs, not at any of the company, but at the Envoy! In fact, this Oriental monarch would have the American Min- ister one with himself. No doubt he intended to do me a special honor, to take me into his embraces to fall upon my neck and hug me. But what would my democratic constituents think of such a submission to an autocrat? This selfish thought comes on me like a flash of light an in- spiration. I turn my back hurriedly on royalty. I throw diplomacy to the winds. I flee " the pre- sence " with a celerity and certainty that were never surpassed on the swiftest "star route" of the plains. When the company assembles at the palace below, to re-embark on the launch, I am told, amidst much hilarious chaffing, that I had out- stripped the swiftest flight of Mercury. But I maintain that in spite of the succulent two hun- dred and fifty pounds of our cavass, and other weighty persons present, including some unctuous females, the tiger showed a royal discrimination in picking out a Minister Plenipotentiary for his prey. 2/2 THE PRINCES ISLES. " Afraid ? " What ! an American afraid of a royal personage? Never ! Besides I had no time for fear. "Undignified retreat?" Let me amend. It was not a " retreat." It was more like one of General Joe Lane's field evolutions, of Kansas fame. It was a swift countermarch in the face of the enemy, executed in the most dashing style to the rear ! I once came upon two grizzlies in California; they were in a cage. I never loved a fero- cious animal outside of a cage or menagerie. I have never seen any such in a state of nature, except a supposititious hyena in upper Egypt among the tombs, and a jackal between Jaffa and Jerusalem. I met the latter by moonlight alone, but I loved him not. It is not necessary to see the tiger in his lair to appreciate his moral qualities. I have talked with wild Kabyles in Algiers, and with officers of the British army from South Africa, and have heard them detail their lion-hunting adventures. One of the officers of the British Indian army told me a story worth repeating. It was about the famous Jaagt in the Island of Singa- pore. He was a man-eater ; I mean the Jaagt. I will let this son of Mars the officer relate his adventure in his own grandiose style, and with all its Brobdignagian proportions. He describes the THE FAMOUS MAN-EA TER. tiger as running through the jungle away from him. " As soon as I saw " said the British officer, " his eyes burning like coals of fire, I knew he was the famous man-eater. He had a little child in his fangs, and, upon my honor, was about to leap over one of the pits, which are sometimes dug in the jungles, and^bear it off to his fastness among the rocks of the hills ! My first impulse was to open fire on the brute with my sixteen-shot revolving breech-loader rifle, but when I saw the child, I hesitated." Here I raise my hands in holy horror, and my eyes express the utmost concern as the officer resumes : "I hesitate," said he, "but a short time. I pick out a spot where the intermaxillary joins the temporal bone. I fire. The child drops un- harmed from the tiger's broken jaws ! It is one of the best shots of my life ! "This shot brings the ferocious animal to bay. I see the great gouts of blood, dropping from his jaws as he lashes his sides furiously with his royal tail ! He crouches for a spring. Is he not a royal specimen? His side shines in the sun like satin striped with burnished gold. I am almost dazzled with its brilliancy. I do not want to spoil such a trophy. I aim for his eye. I send a bullet into his brain, just as he makes his spring. 18 274 THE PRINCES ISLES. He falls stone dead at my feet ! I restore the child, a beautiful boy, to its distracted mother who lives in a bungalow, near by. Upon my honor, the sight of the lady's joy and gratitude over her rescued child almost unmans me. She is the wife of a huzzar officer. I order one of my retinue to remove the hide from the slain animal. I present it to her a few days afterwards for a rug. I would not have taken a thousand pounds for it." But this was not the end of the gallant officer's tiger story. After a moment of suspicious silence on our part, he said : " Do you know, gentlemen, I have some- times been slightly embarrassed at the suspicion with which those unfamiliar with life in the jungle receive our accounts of its adventures? Now, mark the sequel. Twenty years after this incident, I was in the smoking saloon of one of the Peninsula and Oriental steamers, with a lot of officers and civilians on their way out to India. We were whiling away the evening, comparing our hunting reminiscences. Among other exploits, I recounted this adventure in Singapore. Just as I finished it, a little ensign whom I had noticed listening to the story with strange excitement of manner, springs from his seat with uncontrollable emotion. He runs to me. He throws himself into my arms. He exclaims : " ' General ! general ! I am that rescued child, EA RL Y PARTIALITY FOR FELINES. 275 and the lady is my mother ! She cherishes that tiger robe as the chief of her choicest treasures ! Oh ! my brave, brave, preserver ! Have I found you at last ?' If you can credit it, there was not a dry eye in the party." I relate the brave officer's story, not alone for its own interest, but in order that its moral shall maintain the veracity of my own tiger tale. It is with great reluctance that I tell it. I would not be discredited. Still I have a suspicion that that officer is a lineal descendant of Ananias and Sap- phira; and that the young ensign displayed fine histrionic talent. Nearly every one in his callow youth has a par- tiality for an animal. Some take to a horse, some to a squirrel, some to a dog, some to a parrot and some to a canary. My partiality was always for a cat. There is something in the affectionate nature of the cat, whose purring leads one unconsciously and gradually on toward a tender regard for its congener the tiger! In visiting the menagerie, I always look first for the tiger's cage. Look into any book upon vertebrated animals at the figure of the tiger ! You will see it pictured as a model of strength and grandeur. The ancients said that the peacock was the most beautiful among birds and the tiger among animals. Where is the ani- mal of its size that can leap so easily as the tiger, four times its own length ? It is said while its THE PRINCES ISLES. physiognomy is far from fierce and, unlike the lion, is of a placid and pleasing air, that no cor- rection can terrify, and no indulgence tame it. But it is erroneous to suppose that the tiger is un- tamable. Why should not any feline be tamable ? The cat is the most domestic of animals. Shake- speare calls it the "harmless necessary cat." Augustus, the Roman emperor, kept a tame tiger, and Claudius had four of them at a time, as a royal pleasure. This fact is verified by a beauti- ful mosaic, discovered near the arch of Gallicius in Rome. Kean, the tragedian, possessed a puma. It is a fierce feline. It followed him about as docile as a dog. Sarah Bernhardt has a young cougar as her playmate ! I should prefer them when quite young. It was the custom of the early emperors in Byzantium to have a tame tiger near them. The fakirs of Hindostan have the secret of making tigers as tractable as kittens. But after such kit- tens come to the age of discretion, I w r ould not play with them, if I were a fakir. As a general rule, I would not advise either emperor or fakir to be too familiar with the tiger. Like other specimens of royalty, its favor is fickle. It has the trick of its ancestry. Through caressing, it may be tamed for a time, but very few people either in or outside of India would go its security to keep the peace. RO YAL TY AND SIZE OF THE TIGER. 2 77 In Asia the type of royalty is the tiger. In ancient Rome, the symbol of empire was the eagle. In France, it is a rooster. Is it not Emer- son who says that these symbols of strength are selected from the predatory kingdom ? It may not be generally known, but it is true, that the beaver was proposed in America as the emblem of our hardworking, industrious and sagacious people ; but the beaver was laughed out of our national crest. In its place was substituted a bald-headed robber. Not being able to account for the tigerish pro- pensity exhibited toward me at Beylerbey by anything that I had ever done to the animal, for I always defer to him, even in a menagerie, by taking off my hat before his cage, at a respectful distance, it at last occurred to me that I had never sufficiently atoned for a bit of school-boy composition. Its theme was " The Tiger." I cannot fully recall its tenor, but it did not do justice to the magnificent savagery and superlative strength of his nature. I simply said that it was an animal three feet high and eight feet long. This was unjust. Had not Buffon seen one in the East Indies, fifteen feet long? This, how- ever, included the tail. " Allowing" says the naturalist, " four feet for that, it must have been eleven feet from the tip of the nose to the inser- tion of the tail." Goldsmith saw one in the 2 ;8 THE PRINCES ISLES. Tower nine feet long. I am now satisfied, from a hasty glance in the cage at Beylerbey, that the tiger is at least twenty-five feet long and seven- teen feet high ! It is announced in books, that he has a yellow hide, and an average of some twenty-five very black stripes. I am now satisfied that the hide is of a sanguinary red and that its ebony stripes may be counted by the hundred. In my composition I related how it was the object of sportive expeditions in Bengal ; that the hunt- ers go forth, armed with rifles, in a houdah, on the backs of trained elephants to kill the tiger ; and I have never since disassociated the elephant from a tiger. The general opinion is, that the tiger springs upon the elephant to reach the hunter. I did not question its correctness in my speedy movement down the hill of Beylerbey. My tiger seemed to have elephantine proportions. As the Irishman said of the elephant it had a tail at both ends of the animal. My movement at that par- ticular juncture outdid any latter-day toboggan slide. It gave rise to an excess of specific levity, from my companions ; but I gave to the retreat all my specific gravity. It was accelerated by a wild scream from the animal, more horrid than the roar of the lion : tigrides indomitce, rugiuntque leones. I had yielded to the indomitable. Is it Byron, or some one else, who says : " There is a pleasure in the pathless woods." I never enjoyed A LITERARY TIGER. 27Q myself in palatial grounds so much as I did on my retreat from the caged animal at Beylerbey ; for I went down through the terraced groves regard- less of paths. I did not retreat before an ordi- nary, unrenowned beast. No ! I learn that this is the identical tiger referred to in a volume by Lieutenant Greene of the United States Army. He saw it in 1878, after the Russian war. He speaks of it as "a far-famed tiger of great beauty and wonderful size." So that this hero of the jungle is not unknown to literature. How often has he avoided the poise of the spear in his native home ! How often has he leaped upon the Jumbos of the jungle ! Of this there is no record. It is said that death and the gods are shod so softly that their tread is silent. The paw of the tiger has death beneath its velvet. But when I fled from his paw I took courage from this comforting verse about the Pale Horse and his rider: " . poisoned with a kitten's claw, The man escaped the tiger's jaw ! " Tiger-hunting was always a favorite diversion with me in books. I have read Captain Shake- spear's "Wild Sports of India." I had followed him upon the elephant. I became as brave as a Shikarree up a tree, with a bullock below for a bait, and a "man-eater" crouching in the thicket 2gO Tieiu. 8 CUBAN SKETCHES. By JAMES W. STEELE. " The book gives a well-written tale of topics which are of interest both to tourists and to those who enjoy travelling at their own firesides." Christian Register. " Well-written, vivacious, and realistic pictures." " One of the brightest and cleverest of the many books which have been written about Cuba." Boston Transcript. 9 UP THE RHINE. By THOS. HOOD. With two steel engravings, and with the author's original illustrations on wood. 10 WHIMS AND ODDITIES. By THOS. HOOD. Illustrated. 11 CANOEING IN KANUCKIA. The Haps and Mishaps on Sea and Shore of the Statesman, the Editor, the Artist, and the Scribbler. By C. L. NORTON and JOHN HABBERTON. Very fully illustrated. Second edition, with supplementary chapter, being details of canoes constructed down to 1886. " A more enjoyable book cannot well be imagined. It makes one think of summer, of rest, of recreation, of unpremeditated and unrestricted fun." Albany Argus. 12 PICTURES AND LEGENDS FROM NORMANDY AND BRITTANY. By KATHERINE S. and THOMAS MACQUOID. With thirty-four illustrations. The well-known author of " Patty " has interwoven with some fascinating narratives of travel a selection of Norman and Breton stories and legends which are very quaint and characteristic, and her husband and fellow-traveller has contributed a series of charming pencil sketches of the scenery and the people. 13 THE GREEKS OF TO-DAY. By Hon. CHARLES K. TUCK- ERMAN, late Minister Resident of the United States at Athens. Third edition. " No one can read this book without having his interest greatly increased in this brave, brilliant, and in every way remarkable people." N. Y. Times. G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, Publishers, NEW YORK: LONDON: 27 and 29 West 23d Street. 27 King William St., Strand. FOURTEEN DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. mssssi -4 pi vxir ^.%- LIBRARY USE Wi 5 1955 AUG15US5LU !3Nov'57lW REC'D LD NOVI71957 JUN * 3 1%JI 1 ^21 IN STACi cs M2071 i M'Q LI MAI r ^071 -3PM06 %r f 1 ^f i IW ^^ ^r LD 21-100m-2,'55 General Library University of California v -/> x* ^_I V xV^fSF/ If^Sw ^^Vfx W*'' 'Jif