“IN MEDITERRANEAN LANDS “ Grwtee of fjk 5 r ^ 0 f ani ’ 1895 By S. R. STODDARD GLENS FALLS, N. Y. (f)u6ft0$eb 8g ffle $uf0or MDCCCXCVI PHo tog. HH . 31 CfrT I23C, Copyright 1896, by S. R. Stoddard. PRESS OP A V. HAIGHT. POUGHKEEPSIE, N. Y. THE J. PAUL GETTY CENTER LIBRARY CONTENTS. (■ Subject Headings of Chapters and Illustrations.) THE START — page i. “ Where Shepherds Watch their Flocks" , Frontispiece; Icy New York , Pier 14, 1 ; The Start , 2; Liberty , j ; The Pilot Leaves us, 4. THE STORM — page 5. The Engineer Talks, 3 ; Old Ocean's Tribute, 6 ; The Midshipmite, 7 / In the Heart of the Storm, 8; The Yeasty Sea, //. THE DEVIL’S ISLANDS— page 12. Willing Hands, 12 ; St. George s, ij ; Native Bermudians, 14; Easter Lilies, 15; Sawing Stone, 16; The Devil' s Hole, 17 ; The Fries l arid at Sea, 18. THE LONG RUN— page 19. Ocean Waves, ig ; The Foretop Watch, 20; “ Tangled," 20 ; The Stew- ard's Family , 20; “ Chinns," 21 ; Getting on his Sea Legs, 21 ; “ The Blue and the Grey, 21 ; The Friesland Band, 22 ; The Affable Purser, 22; Chet , 2j ; “ And Clark Smiled 23 ; Ring Toss, 24 ; ShuffleBoard, 24. GIBRALTAR— page 25. Gibraltar at Night, 23 ; The Rock of Gibraltar from the Neutral Grounds, 26; Under the Friesland's Bow , 2g ; Street in Gibraltar, 30; The Moorish Las tie, 31; A Glimpse from the Fortress, 32; Spanish Sentinel, 32 ; In Spanishtown, 33. CONTENTS. MALAGA— page 35. Malaga from the Sea, 33 ; “ A Neat Paper Box," 33 ; Transfer to the landing barge, 36 ; In a Spanish Balcony, 37 ; Spanish Gentleman, 38 ; Spanish Beggprs, 39 ; Street in Malaga , 40; Spanish goats, 40; A Charcoal fire, 40; Malaga from the Citadel, 41 ; Spanish Ladies, 41 ; A Roadside House, 42. GRANADA AND THE ALHAMBRA — page 43. Spanish Women, 44 ; Railroading — driving a bargain, 43 ; The Spanish Gipsy, 46 ; A Window, 47 ; The A lhambra, from the city, 49 ; The Lions Fountain, 30 ; Court of the Lions, 32. ALGIERS— page 55. The Incline Facing the Quay, 34; Native Boatman, 33 ; Woman of Algiers, 36; Street, 36; zEsculapius a-Donkey-back, 37 ; A well-to-do Native, 57 ; A Street in Old Algiers, 38 ; Fruit dealer, 39 ; “ The Painted Woman," 60 ; A Medusa Face, 61; A Mohammedan at Prayers, 61 ; Wearers of the Coffee Sack, 62. HISTORY OF FOUR DAYS— page 63. New fersey day on shipboard, 64 THE NILE DELTA— page 65. Pompey' s Pillar , 63 ; Villages of The Nile Delta, 67; An Irrigating Canal, 66 ; A Sakieh, 68 ; A Shadoof, 68. CAIRO — page 69. Obelisk of Heliopolis, 69 ; Egyptian Woman and Child, 70 ; Water Carrier, 7 / / A Soldier of the Army of Occupation , 7 /; A Porter, 72 ; A Sheik, 73 ; A Street in Cairo , 74; A Street Sprinkler , 73 ; “ Meditation," 73 ; Native Ko-ro-za and veil, 76; A Low-class Woman, 76 ; An Egyp- tian Boot-black , 76; A Donkey boy, 77 ; Dining Pavilion, 77 ; Teaching Egypt's Young Ideas to Shoot, 78; Latticed Balconies, 79 ; The Alabaster Mosque, So ; Tombs of the Caliphs, 81 ; A Moslem Cemetery, 81 ; The Market Place, 82; The Citadel and “ Charley S3; “ Three of a Kind," SetiL, Tot limes II., Raineses II., 84; The Snake charmer, S3; Na- tive, and Camel loaded with Alfalfa, 86. A Nile Boat. CONTENTS. THE PYRAMIDS— page 87. Egyptian Buffalo and wagon , 87 ; The Pyramids from the distance , 87; Cheops The Great , 88; Climbing the Pyramids, qi ; Second Pyramid from top of Cheops, qo : A camel train, g2 ; Entrance to King's Chamber , q4. THE SPHINX— page 97. The Fair Fr ies lander , 97; “ Old Glory" at the Pyramids, q8 ; Temple *- of the Sphinx , 99 ; The Sphinx, 100. Natives of Palestine. THE RIVER NILE— page 104. Nile Boats, 104 ; A Dahabeah , 105 ; A Sakieh, 106 ; A IV ater-gate , 106 ; A Mud Village, 107. OLD MEMPHIS AND SAKKARA— page 108. The landing at Bedrashcn, 107 ; Donkey Persuaders, 108; Aids to Mounting, 108 ; Water-carriers, ioq ; Bedrashcn, loq ; Ruins of Ancient Memphis, no ; Statue of Raineses II., in ; Egyptian Plowman, 112 ; A Bedouin Encampment, 112 ; Sakkdra, iij ; “ Her Lord and Master uj; An Autocrat, uj ; Camel and young, 114 ; Step Pyramid, 114; Ruins at Sakkdra, 115; Mast aba of Ti, nj; A crippled Beggar creeping on the sands, uj ; Port Said — Latent Energy, 116 ; Lightening the Fries- land, 116. JOPPA — page 1 1 7. An Exciting transfer, nq; The "Fiirst Bismarck," 1/8; Among the Breakers , 120; Market Scene, 122 ; House of Simon the Tanner, 127; Terraced Hillsides, 125 ; “ The Transfiguration 126. JERUSALEM — page 127. Women with water-jars, ijo ; A Modern Philistine , iji ; A Goatskin churn , tj4 ; Moslem women in street costume, ijj ; Young Arabs, ijy ; A Syrian woman and child, ij 6 ; The Greek Patriarch of ferusalem, 1777; Blind Beggars, ijy ; Lepers, ij 8 ; Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives — Panoramic view, 140-141 ; Jaffa Gate, 142 ; A Street in Jerusa- lem, 14J ; The Money changer, 144 ; House of Dives, 145 ; Church of the xi CONTENTS. A Street in Jerusalem. Holy Sepulchre, 146; The Angel's Chapel , 148; Stairway at the Holy Sepulchre , 130 ; The Mosque of Omar, 132; “Dome of the Rock,” 134; Wailing place of the Jews, 136. ROUND ABOUT JERUSALEM— page 157. King Solomon' s Quarries, Entrance , 757 ; St. Stephen's Gate, 138 ; Da - mascus Gate, 138 ; The New Golgot ha, 734 ; “ 7 he Stone that was Rolled Away," 160 ; Tombs of the Kings , Vestibule, 161 ; Valley of Hinnom, 162; Silwan (Siloam), 162; Tomb of Absalom , 163 ; The Mount of Ol- ives, 164 ; Ancient Olive tree in the Garden of Gethsemane , 166 ; Fran- ciscan Monk , 166 ; Pilgrims at station in the Garden of Gethsemane, 163; Where the Disciples slept, 167 ; Tombs of the Prophets, Entrance, 167 ; Church of the Lord's Prayer, 16S ; Place of the Ascension, 16S ; Bethany, i6q ; Bethlehem of Judea, 17 1 ; Grotto of the Nativity, 170. FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO— page 173. David Jammel , Dragoman, 172; A Native Sheik, 173 ; A Horse-wo- man, 178 ; Good Samaritan Inn, 180 ; “Trilby,” 180 ; Russian Pilgrims, 181 ; Brook Cherith , 182; Valley of the Jordan, 1S4; Making Mud Bricks, 187 ; Native hut at Jericho , 1S7 ; Jordan Hotel , 188 ; Jericho Camp, iSq ; A pproaching the Dead Sea, igo ; Shores of the Dead Sea, igi ; The River Jordan, igj. THE SAMARITAN BROTHERHOOD— page 195. The Samaritan Brotherhood, ig6 ; Mount Tabor, ig8 ; A Modern Jacob, 200; “ Saladin," 201. THE GALILEE SECTION— page 203. Sea of Galilee, 202 ; A Threshing-floor, 203. NORTHERN PALESTINE— page 207. Caifa from Mount Carmel, 208 ; Unwinding the Cocoons, 21 1 ; Silk Weaving, 21 1 ; Cedars of Lebanon, 272. ASIA MINOR — page 214. In Smyrna, 213 ; Ruins at Ephesis, 277 ; The Citadel 0)i the Hill, 217 ; “ Where Storks build their nests," 218 ; Nature's Forces, 220. A t Bey rout. CONTENTS. ATHENS — page 221. One of the King's guards , 221 ; Piraeus, 222; Funeral a la mode, 225; A Native Albanian, 225 ; Prison of Socrates, 22b ; Columns of the Temple of fupiter, 226; Theatre of Bacchus, 227 ; Theatre of Herod, 227 ; The Acropolis, 228 ; Mars Hill , 229. CONSTANTINOPLE AND THE TURK— page 231. In the Dardanelles, 233 ; Stamboul and the Golden Horn , 236 ; Gal at a from Stamboul, 237 ; Street dogs, 238 ; Off his beat, 239 ; Street car, 239; “ A Bearer of Burdens," 240 ; A Drink offering , 141; Mosque of St. Sophia , 242 ; “ The Queen of the Haremf 246 ; Preparing for his Devo- tions, 247 ; At Prayer, 249. NAPLES — page 251. Naples, 230 ; The Singing girls, 232; Spaghetti, 233 ; An Italian Team, 233 ; lt The Milk train 236 ; The Padre, 237 ; Italian Soldier, 237. MOUNT VESUVIUS— page 258. A Peasant Woman, 238; Inverted for Centisimos, 239 ; The Lava Beds, 239; The Inclined Railway, 260; Nearing the Summit, 26c ; The Crater, 262 ; Down in the Crater, 263 ; The Guide, 263 ; Road down the mountain, 264. HERCULANEUM AND POMPEII— page 265. A Street in Pompeii, 266 ; House ( uncovered in 1893), 268 ; Street Step- ping Stones, 269; A Theatre, 269; Stone Watering-trough, 270; The Outer Walls, 27 1 ; A Roman hat -rack, 272 ; Plaster cast of Man, 273 ; Plaster cast of Wo/nan, 273 : The Skeleton of the Stone Dormitory, 274. ROME — -page 277. St. Peter's, 27b ; Arch of Constantine, 278 ; The Lecturer, 280 ; The Tiber, The Castle of St. Angelo, 28 1 ; The Coliseum, 282 ; Interior of St. Peter's, 284; 11 The Laocoon," 290; "‘The River Nile," 292 ; The Monk who wouldn't be Photographed, 294 ; A Niche of Honor, 294 ; Cappuccini Cemetery , 293 ; St. Paul' s-outside-the-walls, 29b ; The Cloisters of St. Paul’s, 297 ; Interior of the Coliseum, 298 ; The Roman Forum, 299; A Columbarium, with Ashes Two thousand Romans. CONTENTS. “ The Dying Gaul," joo ; St. Bambino , 301; The Appian Aqueduct, 303 ; The Keeper of the Keys, 304 ; A bit of the Palace of the Ccesars, 303. FLORENCE — page 306. Basilica of Leaning Town of Pisa, 306; A Roman Stronghold, 306; Florence , 307 ; Constantine. The covered bridge, 308; Palazzo Vecchio, 308; The Cathedral , 30Q; The Campenile , 3og. VENICE— page 31 1. Night on the Grand Canal, 310; The Rialto Bridge, 314; The Bridge of Sighs, 318; The Lace-maker , 31Q; The Doges' Palace, 317; St. Mark' s, 316 ; L he Doves of St. Mark , 3/3. SWITZERLAND, PARIS AND BEYOND— page 320. Among the Alps, 322; Lake Lugano, 321; Lucerne, 324; Art, 323; Basle and the German Rhine, 323. Grand Opera House, 326; The Latin Quarter, 326; The Morgue , 323 ; Under the Bridges, 327 ; At Versailles, 327 ; London Towers, 327. OUR FRIENDS ON SHIPBOARD— page 329. The Manager and his Lieutenants , 329 ; The Representative from Florida, 330; The Solid South, 331 ; The G. A. R., 331 ; The Doctors, 332; The Clergymen, 332; Fellow passengers — portraits and list of names, 333. GENERAL INDEX— page 344. THE CRUISE OF THE FRIESLAND, THE START. Wednesday , February 6, 1895. N EW YORK is icy and drear. Like sharp needles the piercing wind cuts and stings. “The coldest day of many a year” says everyone as the Red Star liner “Friesland,” with long continued straining finally breaks the fetters of ice in which she has been bound and, butted by a pair of sturdy, puffing tugs, backs slowly out into the frozen stream. Like brilliant Autumn leaves, starry flags are waving on ship and shore and white handkerchiefs flutter as snowflakes in the winter’s air. “Good bye, good bye,” goes out from the straining throats of a thousand friends who have THE START. braved the Arctic cold of the bleak, wind-swept pier that they might see the pilgrims off, and “goodbye” is shouted back from the crowded decks. “Good bye friends. Good bye, dear shivering old New York. Good bye all. Sorry are we to leave you in the dreary North but the time has come to part and we are off for Summer seas.” The great ship swings slowly around ; the swiftly turning screw kicks the water into foam at her stern ; she parts the ice floe with her sharp bow, and gathering headway stands for the open sea. Clark’s Mediterranean cruise has begun. From the water goes up volumes of steam as from a sea of smoking lava. The piers along the city front are half hidden by drifting fog. Spires and sky-climbing blocks float in billowy clouds, now appearing in bursts of frosty sun-shine, now blotted out and lost. Liberty— unlovely under the garish light of day and a thing of beauty only when night makes her gracious mission plain — shivers as we pass, lifting her naked arm and quenched torch high up into the pitiless air, as in dumb protest against her useless martyrdom. The frowning forts are passed, the white gates of the harbor open and close behind, and at last we are on the broad Atlantic. Then the pilot goes down 3 THE CRUISE OF THE FRIESLAND. the uncertain, swinging ladder to the icy boat that has waited out there to take him off, and with his going the last link that binds us to the shore is broken. Around us, the writhing water steams in the frosty air as a seething caldron, sending up white mists like the smoke of a burning prairie. Incoming craft are sheeted with crystal, their bows hang heavy with glittering diamond fringe, their spars are as icicles, their cordage like spun glass in the sun-shine. Sluggishly they sink to the hollows of the seas and slowly gather to the oncoming wave. The hand of the Ice King is heavy upon them, but we are light of heart, for we are bound for lands where birds are singing and fragrant flowers ever bloom; where Poetry and Art go hand in hand; where Chivalry and Faith had birth, and History began. THE STORM. Thursday , February j, 1895. M ORNING, and the air is no longer wintry. For twenty hours we have been moving steadily southward, yet while we have left the frost behind the weather is not altogether satisfying. The wind is full of moisture and at times fitful. At noon comes a dash of rain followed by stronger blasts. Now the waves come up out of the south and doff their white caps to us and the Friesland — staid old Friesland that she seemed, and on her good behavior when in town where she lay beside her dock as steady as a rock — becomes kittenish out here and bridles like a young girl, welcoming the playful advances of the gay white waves with many a bow and courtesy, swinging jauntily from side to side and bobbing up and down in anything but a dignified way, so that many who are novices in the art of sailing begin to wear a troubled look. As the day wanes wild Boreas changes his pleasant pipings to notes of fiendish glee and rushes with wild shrieks and shrill whistlings through the straining cordage. Then Old Neptune, tyrant that he is, clasps the big ship in his arms and flings her like 5 fj THE CRUISE OF THE FRIESLAND. a leaf on the rushing stream. He tosses her up on high and throws her down into the depths ; he stands her on edge ; he plunges her sharp nose into the big waves ; he holds her down and pours tons of water over her shuddering stern ; he rolls her over on her side until her taper yards drag through the foam, for he is King and she but a plaything in his hands. And they that are on board hasten to pay tribute. Many who have taken possession of their steamer chairs, and their places out on the upper deck, keep them all through the day, fearing to move. Locomotion has perils aside from the danger of bruised heads and broken bones. With coming dark- ness the gale increases. The ship labors heavily against the pounding seas that send clouds of spray, and sometimes consid- erable masses of water, over the decks, until at last the most determinedly uncer- tain are constrained to go below however much they may fear the result. The at- tempt usually precip- itates matters. Many are in condition to welcome death, for they are certain that the hand of the fell destroyer is already heavy upon them. Between decks also the pilgrims are not happy. At midnight 6 Tribute. Ah! Then came the rolls That uplifted our soles, And all that we valued took wings ; While the midshipmite. Like an angel of light. Brought comfort, and crackers, and things. THE STORM. a monster sea comes over the bows and rushes along the upper deck, carrying with it settees supposed to have been bolted fast; wrenching from their fastenings boats lashed in their places on a level with the bridge and, uncovering a hatch which has been insecurely battened down, pours a flood into the cabin, followed by other waves which sweep at intervals along overhead to find unguarded openings through which the water goes so that many state-rooms are flooded and their occupants driven out to seek drier quarters elsewhere. Great seas which do not go over strike with mighty force against the sounding sides and the ship careens at times so that she seems literally on beams end. Small articles play tag about the state- rooms, trunks race wildly across from side to side, life-preservers, boxes, bags and bundles unattached hop about like kernels of corn in a hot popper, while occupants of bunks are tumbled unceremoniously out, to make unexpected calls on their neigh- bors across the way. Fear adds a distressing element to the situation; many do not undress all through the night. The public saloons are steaming with an aggregation of uneasy numbers who are in doubt whether it were better to go down, if go down they must, on deck, or under cover like rats in a trap. Below in the public spaces are congregated clumps of timid ones who, like masses of swarming bees, cling together in frantic fear, thinking that every plunge the vessel makes may be her last, but holding firmly to the “ united-we-stand divided- we-fall ” idea, although in fact visibly and often, demonstrating the exception. It is too moist even for jokes to crack, although dismal attempts are occasionally made in that direction and while there are more than two score of clergymen on board, temporarily out of a job, even they bring little consolation, and 9 THE CRUISE OF THE FRIESLAND. amateurs who feel the need take a hand at prayer on their own account. Uncertainty as to actual danger adds another element of fear. It is impossible to learn exactly what has happened or what is being done to avert disaster. The screw has stopped its revolutions — an uncommon thing at sea— two or three times. “Disabled,” some one says. “To ease the pounding of the great waves against her bow ” is explained semi-officially. “ Mutiny in the fire-room ” is a current report, and it is whis- pered that an officer has been stationed at the entrance to the shaft by which the fire-room is reached, with instructions to brain the first man who attempts to leave his post. “ The worst storm the ship ever passed through ” said the captain later. Accidents were common. A deck steward received injuries which shelved him for several days. As a result of a sudden lurch of the vessel early in the evening of the storm, a group of twenty or more in their steamer chairs got away in a bunch a la toboggan down the slippery deck to the rail, where the leaders found themselves at the bottom of a promiscuous heap of struggling humanity. When the pile was sorted it was dis- covered that several had been damaged to a greater or less extent. Mr. Edwin Palmer, of Albany, had serious injury done to his face, but stuck pluckily by his party to the end of the cruise, shedding by degrees and in different parts of the world the bandages in which he appeared the day after the storm. Mr. H. M. Taber, of New York, had a broken leg when resurrected from the crush, and as a result was carried ashore on arrival at the Bermudas, where he remained until near the close of March, returning thence to his home. At latest reports he was in a fair way to almost complete recovery. Subse- 10 THE STORM. quently Mr. William A. Wilson, of Kansas City, had his arm broken and suffered most excruciating anguish from being un- able to use it during the rest of the voyage (as he personally explained) with so many charming widows on board. Aside from the above no accident worthy of note was known to have happened to any member of the party on the trip. The storm was a notable experience. No one complained that the voyage so far was monotonous. It was full of sensa- tions of various kinds, and new sensations were a blessing to many. It was also satisfying in a certain sense, for we all felt that the Friesland had proven herself good for almost any kind of weather that might be expected on the trip. THE BERMUDAS. Saturday , February g. T HE DEVIL’S ISLANDS, is what the old Spaniards called the little group which is known to us as the Ber- mudas, for — were they not known to be inhabited in those days by demons and vampires and dragons of horrid mould, as vouched for by certain venturesome sailor-men who had risked their lives there among the sharp-toothed coral reefs which guard them round about ? Later, pirates made their homes there when they were not engaged in cutting throats or looting rich merchantmen, and during the late rebellion block- ade runners found welcome and assistance in their ports, over which then, as now, the British flag waved. The distance from New York is about 675 miles in a south- easterly direction; the time required to get there, according to schedule, about forty-eight hours, but the storm had delayed us so that it was Friday evening when the lights of the islands were sighted, and we lay at anchor outside the entrance to St. George’s Harbor all night. Saturday morning all went ashore in tugs. The sea was still running high and although we were in 12 Willing Hands. THE BERMUDAS. the lee of the main island, the commotion was considerable and the transfer from the big to the little ship attended with some little risk. But experienced hands were there to render necessary assistance, particularly if the need was emphasized by a pretty face, and there being so many pretty faces in evidence, notwithstanding the rough experience up to this time, the willing hands above mentioned were kept very busy while the transfer was going on. The run to land and up through St. George’s inlet to the old town of that name was delightful. Green as the green on the peacock’s neck are the surrounding waters; dark green and olive the shores and semi-tropic trees; white as snow the lines of box-like houses along the water’s edge and against the t e r - raced hillside. At the landing we were met by a del- egation of native citizens with axes to grind, and made welcome about the town. Hardly had we exhausted interest in the quaint, curious things of the place when — the news of our arrival having been wired to Hamilton, twelve miles away — there came in twos, in threes, in squads, in caravans, the flower of the Hamilton liveries, and with wild dash and shout; with beaming face and whip in hand these black Jehus of the sea corraled our people and carried them, willing captives, away out over the gleaming white roads that stretched through garden lands and lines of flowering trees. 13 THE CRUISE OF THE FRIESLAND. There are, it is said, three hundred and sixty-five islands in the group, including the tiny ones scattered ■ about in the lagoons and bays of the larger islands. They are of coraline, or shell, formation so far as visible, built by the coral insect, upon the apex of a submarine mountain which rises abruptly from a depth of nearly three miles. Around the islands are coral reefs still in process of construction by their curious artificers. Well defined circles, visible at low water — miniature “atolls” — are to be found at different points. Windy are they — these islands lying out in the Atlantic ocean five hundred miles from the mainland — the red cedar, which is the native tree, growing in exposed positions, telling the story of the prevailing west wind in long branches stretching east- ward and the shorter ones, curling in upon themselves on the west. The fragrant oleander grows freely. It is the favorite hedge and wind-break along the roads. The principal fruits are the banana, which flourishes thriftily in protected positions, and the paw-paw, which hangs in clusters at the base of the outspreading branches of its tall tree-stem. The native population is about 15,000. Sixty per cent, are black. In addition may be reckoned a force of 2,000 British soldiers stationed at the garrisons on the main island. The blacks are of a superior order, polite, fairly well edu- cated and in voice and accent quite English you know. It would be doing the black an injustice to say that he is dissatisfied with his position and con- dition here. He has equal rights on the islands with his white brother. He has all the school advantages the islands afford, takes great interest in 14 ‘V ONIONS AND LILIES. their management and monopolizes the public schools to such an extent that the white boy and girl are generally sent abroad for education when the means of the family permit. The black here, as elsewhere, is not wildly ambitious. He will not, knowingly, shorten his life by hard labor. He cultivates the land in little patches; he drives the carriages and does the necessary laborer’s work ; he comes into town on a long, spring- less cart with little wheels and a little donkey between the heavy shafts — he and his wife and his pickaninnies and his poultry and his vegetables. The little satisfies him. But if there are no very wealthy people here, there are also none in extreme poverty. There are beggars in plenty, but not of an offensive kind. The young darkies are!]beggars from the cradle, but they ask from principle and their gain is spent for luxuries. The ground produces abundantly and will yield from three to four crops in rotation in a year. Irish potatoes are due the first of February; sweet potatoes follow on the same land — the latter nearly white and tasting more like the ordinary potato than the sweet potato of the Carolinas. Then come beets, turnips, carrots and other roots common to the North. But the chief of all fruits, the thing above all others on which they base their hopes of prosperity, is the potent, all-absorbing, ever fra- grant onion. Time dates locally from the great onion year, to which the patriotic Bermudian refers with a pride which the Fourth of July can hardly evoke from the av- erage Yankee 15 Easter Lilies. THE CRUISE OF THE FRIESLAND. abroad. Property is reckoned not in bonds or acres but in onions, and prosperity by the crate. Other crops yield hand- somely, but nothing can win the native from his first love. An odor as of sanctity hangs about the esculent root which the visitor may mistake for something else but the native — never. With him it is the onion forever. The onion is cultivated in little patches by the roadside; among the trees on the slopes; never in large fields, for the reason, perhaps, that there are few large fields there. What soil there is is found in pockets in the rocks that have been filled, or in places where the rock has weathered and become soil. Flowers grow everywhere. The Easter lily of the Bermudas is noted in both hemispheres. The roads are the best I have ever seen — hard and smooth- just the kind for cyclists. The ridges are cut through, to make the way practically level, and a single horse easily draws a carriage with four people. The drivers drive like J ehus, and, contrary to the custom of the United States, turn to the left in meeting. The houses are all of stone, ordinarily one-story in height. The material is dug from within the foundation walls, the cellar furnishing the blocks from which the house is made. It is cut out by means of long single -handled saws — in blocks for the side walls, in slabs for the roof. When first exposed the rock is white as snow, and quite soft. With exposure to light and air it becomes darker and quite hard. The houses are all white- washed, the rock furnishing admirable lime also. It is said that whitewashing renders the houses much cooler in the warm weather, but the glare is somewhat trying under the bright sun. All the dwellings that I saw looked clean and neat, and many of them had flowers on their walls or in beds about the doors. THE DEVILS HOLE. There are no wells on the island. Water for drinking is caught when it rains, from roofs or from slopes inclosed and swept clean for that purpose, and kept in cisterns. The inhab- itants bury their dead, four deep, in graves cut in the soft rock. They are cemented tight to be opened again when the space is needed. There are caves here which were submarine grottoes before the coral works rose above the surface. “The Devil’s Hole ” is an opening of unknown depth full of water, and said to have an underground connection with the ocean. On inquiry we were told that the devil wasn’t in but a Sombre Shade in a ragged shawl, which we took to be his wife, showed us around in con- sideration for an English shilling each. The “hole” was ragged and rocky and swarming with big fish, averaging from two to three feet in length. Out of the green water they poked their noses stretching wide their red mouths to about the size of a pint cup saying plainly as in spoken word, “please feed us” — which we did with bread pro- cured at a little shed near by, and at which they snapped ravenously, their teeth coming together like animated steel traps, while they crowded and jostled and quar- reled with each other; in their eager haste, jumping at times a full half-length out of the water to get at the coveted morsel. 17 ' *U-*. - - :*** ... . _ •*#-*' 5 ‘ Like Mountains streaked with Snow. T X i THE LONG RUN. H E waves that follow us when we sail away from the Windy Islands Saturday evening are like mountains streaked with snow. Sunday, the wind still blows strong and the water is lumpy — waves outrunning the ship and running high — but the day is delightful with mixed sunshine and shower, and a large pro- portion of the party find their way out on deck. Religious services are held in the morning. In the evening a service of song is held out on deck, and a sacred concert given by the ship’s Belgian orchestra in the saloon, during which “After the Ball ” is rendered among other gems in good United States style. 19 ST A TISTICAL. ‘ Chums. already with the have beens in the lead.) There are a number of lively youngsters on deck who have stood the buffeting better than their elders, but it is noticed that the great majority of the passengers wear gray hair and wear it well, for the nature of the cruise has brought together intellectual men and women much above the average. Thirty-two states are represented. Pennsylvania sends 74, New Jersey has second place with sixty-two to her credit, New York follows with 53, Ohio with 38, Massachusetts 37, Illinois 29, Connecticut 27, Indiana 17, Michigan 10, Kentucky 9, Min- nesota 9, District of Columbia 7, Mississippi 6, Nebraska, New Hampshire and Missouri 5 each, Colorado, Maryland and Georgia 4 each, Virginia 3, Vermont, Rhode Island and Cali- fornia 2 each, while West Virginia, Florida, Tennessee, Mon- tana, Kansas and Washington send 1 each. Canada is repre- sented by three. Everybody is getting on famously, learning who every other body is, where they came from, etc. At first many were recognized as in primitive times by notable pecu- liarities. There were the ‘ ‘ Plaid Man,” the “Thermometer Man,” “The Big Consul,” the “Long Dominie,” the “Widow’s Mite,” etc. Congenial spirits soon grav- itate to allotted centres. The ‘ ‘ Blue and the Gray ” shake hands ; the “Solid South ’’and the “Grand Army” are as one family. Cler- gymen of the many protestant Getting on His Sea Legs. “ The Blue and The Gray.” THE FRIESLAND. denominations and fathers of the Romish Church lie down together and a little child might lead them. It called for 17 1 officers and crew to take care of the ship and its passengers. The captain had little intercourse with the pas- sengers, giving his attention, as was perhaps right, very much to the management of his ship. The affable purser made hosts The Friesland of friends and many a sea-sick mortal was glad to greet his Band. pleasant face in his daily rounds. The steward — man of sub- stance — on him we relied and not in vain, for, to feed us on the trip he laid in at New York upward of 480,000 pounds of eata- bles and drinkables. There are 31,000 pounds of fresh, and 4.000 pounds of corned beef. 232 beeves yield up their tongues and eighty-four ox-tails get into the soup. There are 4,100 pounds of veal, 11,000 pounds of mutton, 4,100 pounds of fresh pork. Other items are, 190 turkeys, 2,800 fowl, 1,000 ducks, 2.000 pigeons, 2,000 squab, 2,000 quarts of fresh milk, 13,000 dozen eggs, 2,070 pounds of butter, and 2,500 pounds of cheese of various brands — a strong array, and some of it mitey good. There are 500 pounds of tea, 5,000 pounds of coffee, 20 barrels of pilot bread, 12 barrels of Blue Point oysters, 1,200 pounds of grapes, 30 tons of potatoes, and 2,000 pounds of Span- ish onions. These last go into almost everything but the ice cream. Breakfast and lunch are as it happens — first come, first served — but dinner is a fixed festival of august proportions and inflexible flow. It takes from one to one and one-half hours to go 22 The Purser. m 1 DIPLOMACY. through with the programme of ten courses. As the number of passengers is about double the seating capacity of the tables in both saloons, the party is divided into sections, one following the other at meals, each sitting having its compensating advantages, for if the first table becomes over proud its attention is called to the fact that it is obliged to eat at a horribly unfashionable hour, while those who follow can linger at table in the enjoy- ment of after-dinner amenities as long as ever they like. Of course there was dissatisfaction on board. In the success of the undertaking was developed its most objectional feature, for every available room and bunk was occupied ; would-be passengers gladly taking accommodations which, if not all that heart could desire, were the best that could be had and as such acceptable. This over-crowded condition of the ship made it impossible for the willing but over- worked stewards to render such service as the passen- gers had good reason to expect. Add the distressing experience of the storm and it is not to be wondered at that, under the torture of sea-sickness and incon- venience generally, some kicked — and kicked hard. It was but natural. It did no harm. In these after days when “ A?id the raw edge of temporary discomfort has become softened by Clark the glow of delightful retrospection one wonders Smiled.'' what there was at the time to cause such an ebul- lition. And through it all the manager, wise beyond his years, saw past the jagged present to the mellow future, and in the face of threatened annihilation just smiled and smiled, and soothed 23 “Chet." CRUISE OF THE FRIESLAND. with promises to adjust all grievances, and to smooth out every wrinkle in the crumpled rose leaves of the time — in a day or two. Meantime the ship’s company did not waste coal in a vain attempt to make up lost time in the run from con- tinent to continent. Two or three ships were sighted in the passage across but not the promised land of the Azores — those mountain peaks of submerged Atlantis which we so longed to see — for we were due on the other side and still losing. We were moving steadily, however, burning about 1 1 2 tons of coal and going on an average 360 miles every day. Every day at noon the ship’s clock was set ahead to accord with meridian time, and those who would be correct must turn the hands of their watches around from twenty to twenty-five minutes, according to the distance made. Thus the days passed more rapidly than we had thought possible, bringing many a pleasant thing to be remembered. Pennsylvania day was celebrated with becoming ceremonies. Lectures, concerts, balls, kept young and old, grave and gay, fully engaged. Euchre and whist, back -gammon and chess, in smoking-room and cabin ; shuffle-board and ring- toss on the after-deck, letter writing everywhere — the week passes almost before we know it, and with feelings of intense, if subdued, excitement at the thought of stepping on solid land once more, and of the news that may be waiting us, we are watch- ing at the going down of the Sunday’s sun for the distant shore. Later we greet with joy the bright lights that mark on either hand the ancient Pillars of Hercules. At midnight we pass through the gates of the wide East that open before us and the misty Land of Childhood’s Dreams is ours to go in and possess. 24 Shuffle-board. GIBRALTAR. February 18, 1895. L IKE a crouching lion in black silhouette against a sky lu- minous with bright stars, rises the great rock of Gib- raltar as we look upon it first in the morning while it is yet night. In straight lines along the water front, and tier on tier at intervals against its black bulk higher up, sparkling lights marks the town that lies in terraced lines along its base. With the gray of the slow coming dawn the black shadow separates into masses, the masses into form and outline, and with the coming of the sun, sea-wall and battlement, ancient tower and structure of the later day stand revealed. And this is Gibraltar! The world’s mightiest citadel! The key to the gateway of the Mediterranean ! A great mountain peak, or rather a series of peaks, it rises sheer from the sea. East, south and west the water comes up against the cliffs, which are unscalable almost as the sides of an iceberg. At its north- ern end, which is the head of the crouching lion, vertical cliffs a thousand feet in height overlook a narrow strip of marshy land, connecting it with Spanish soil. Honeycombed with galleries and pierced with port-holes, out of which the mouths of cannons point; with massive sea- 25 GIBRALTAR. walls, behind which the heaviest of guns lie; its summit a resting place for other guns of mighty mould, that may be sighted by range-finders at the lower level and fired by elec- tricity ; garrisoned with a force of such stuff as forms the British soldier and with provisions to last indefinitely — Gibraltar is beyond question the one impregnable fortress of the world. Above the terraced town you get glimpses of cavernous openings into the mountain, masked perhaps but only partially, by young trees and growing bushes. Farther away along in the side of the black rock which faces Spain, lines of openings, indicating the course of tiers of galleries within, ascend gradually as they follow the fluted contour of the mighty cliff. What the rock really contains the public is not allowed to know. Few in authority even know it all. The governor may know, but minor officers have little knowledge of parts except those over which they have command, the other sections being closed to them as to the outside world. Possibly the outside world is encouraged to believe in the existence of grim secrets, of ter- rible engines of destruction hidden in the bowels of the mountain, and of deadly mines beneath the innocent looking surface— and perhaps these exist mainly in the imagination. But there is evidence to convince anyone that no projectile has yet been invented capable of demolishing it, or earthly power to force an entrance when garrisoned by determined men. The ending of the four years’ siege, where the English successfully resisted all the force the Spanish government could bring against them, could have but one natural and to-be-expected ending. Back of British occupancy at intervals through a thousand changing years, Phoenician and Moor, Moor and Spaniard and later Spaniard against Spaniard, struggled 27 THE CRUISE OF THE FRIESLAND. for its possession. It was during this later strife, in 1704, that Britain, with true British determination to see fair play, took a hand and, pending the contest, became stake-holder and referee. The question of ownership never was settled to the entire sat- isfaction of the Man in Possession, and he felt obliged finally to declare the mill off and the purse and gate-money confiscated as proper compensation for his services — which seemed an emi- nently satisfactory solution of the problem. The question of rightful ownership is a question no more. It is held by virtue of British nerve, which knows a good thing when it sees it, and of British bull-dog tenacity, which never loosens its grip while a tooth remains to hold on with. With nine points of law in its favor who shall question the remaining one point ? No nation exists to-day which could so well be trusted to combine necessary force with common justice in holding a check over the quarrelsome little nationalities of the East as this same big, sturdy, assertive chap who believes in fair play always and only takes possession of your property when he is fully satisfied that he can administer its affairs better than you can yourself. It would unquestionably be an improvement if he should add still others to his dependencies in the East, where civilization has gone to seed ; where it is established policy to spoil the stranger that is within the gates, and where religion makes a virtue of crimes at which true civilization stands aghast. We had been called in the morning before daylight that we might get the earliest view possible of the famous rock, and also that we might make an early landing for the day on shore. With daylight came a fleet of native boats, scrubby looking craft, with venders of fruit and notions, swarthy of face, pic- turesque of dress, wildly gesticulating, and clamorous and dis- 28 GIBRALTAR. cordant of cry as were the noisy gulls which wheeled and circled around to pounce ravenously on whatever might be cast overboard. Finally we go ashore and are duly inspected by officers in charge at the water gate. To western eyes the sights are interesting. There are twenty thousand inhabitants here it is said. You would hardly think that the town could give place for half that number, but you find that parts are solidly built, that the streets are narrow and the dwellings, where glimpses can be had, are like bee- hives, swarming with many occu- pants. The streets are alive with color of a mixed population bent on traffic. Here is the Jew with black robe and skull-cap, Turks with baggy trowsers and brilliant fez, Moors with flowing robe and snow white scarf of many folds wound picturesquely about their heads, black-browed Spanish and blacker Ethiopian, and English soldiers everywhere swinging through the streets in twos and threes, in tight-fitting red coats and shiny boots. The English soldier gives color and brilliancy to every scene — troops of cavalry with jingling sabers, companies of artillery, guards going and coming, or perhaps, off duty and in holiday attire bound for the cricket-field or in parties to engage in some other of the many athletic games in which the true Britain takes 29 THE CRUISE OF THE FRIESLAND. delight. It costs England $5,000,000 annually it is said to run the town and fortress. Through the market place we go beset by venders of fruit and curios, by would-be guides and noisy cabmen, by traders — Moor and Turk, Jew and Gentile — then we melt away and are distrib- uted about the town, deeply interested in scenes which are all new and strange. The bazaars and shops along the way are not imposing in size but are rich in color ; their owners solicit- ous, but not apt to make mistakes to their own detriment when making change for the visitor who may not be quite clear as to the relative value of English, French, Spanish and American moneys. Trades and professions seem oddly mixed. “Barber and tooth-puller” is a common sign indicating a union of pro- fessions not common in the west, and suggesting the necessity of making your wants clearly understood whenever you may have occasion to drop into one of their uncomfortable chairs. A sharp young Turk works up a thriving business by offering “ Amereken o-r-r-in-giz-z-z, fresh from Ne-jork,” at 2 for 5 cents, and many patriotic Americans buy heavily when common cut-throat natives are offering others just as good at two for a cent. The last I saw of this Turkish Yankee was at the dock where he was sell- ing “Amereken figs, fresh from Ne-jork.” The streets are narrow and crooked but exceptionally clean. They straggle about in an aimless sort of way, which I after- ward found to be common to old Moorish towns; here running along the side of the hill on a line with the roofs of the - GIBRALTAR. r4*. buildings ranged along the street below, now making a dash up some acclivity with a grade like an old fashioned Dutch roof. Through the residence portion of the town, particularly in the old Moorish quarters, the dwellings present blank walls with narrow door- ways and high windows to the street, or are surrounded by high stone walls, the tops of which are ragged with broken glass set in cement. The Moorish Castle, built A. D. 7 1 1, is a prominent show feature of the town, but the great interest of the visitor centres in the works that are in the great rock itself. Preliminary in- spection and registering at the guard-room were necessary before we were permitted to enter, then a heavy gate was unlocked to admit us and made secure after we entered and, convoyed by a sturdy young soldier, we penetrated into the galleries as far as we were permitted to go. What years of convict toil these tunnels represent ! They are commonly about eight feet wide and from eight to twelve high, with an ascending grade up or down which horses can be driven and artillery transported when necessary. The way twists about to the right and left, fol- lowing the contour of the cliff’s face, broadening at intervals into considerable chambers in which are heavy cannon and am- munition, and from which port-holes look out on town and frontier and open sea. A closed gate finally barred our way, but from an opening in a projecting angle we marked the tun- nel’s course in ascending lines of port-holes far above. Down- 31 THE CRUISE OF THE FRIESLAND. ward — we could only guess at the distance — half a thousand feet perhaps, the rock dropped sheer. On the plain at its base a sham-battle was taking- place. We could see the little puffs of white smoke, then, after quite an inter- val, hear faintly the rattle of the discharge. The men were pigmies, the horses capering mites. In another field a game of cricket was in progress; in still another foot-ball, judging from the rush and scramble, and the quick massing and melting of the human atoms. Splendid fellows physically are these British soldier boys and clean and fresh and manly withal. Beyond the line of sports and battle ran a line of sentry boxes across the half-mile of land from shore to shore ; between which, like clock-work, paced red-coated men. A half-mile beyond, across the marshy flat which is the neutral ground, in parallel lines is another row of boxes and along back and forth between these paced men of more sombre hue. England and Spain watch each other here. Tommies and dons stamp up and down in sight of each other as tommies and dons have done, day and night, for more than a hundred years — the tommies coolly insolent, the dons fiercely threatening. 32 SPA NISH TO WN. In Spanishtown. Threatening Gibraltar! A June-bug hurling fierce defiance at the Sphinx ! Spanishtown is over beyond the line of Spanish sentries. At night when the north gate is closed it is not considered safe to venture out across the flat — you may be mistaken for a smuggler and a shot follow the quick chal- lenge before you have time to ex- plain — but a broad road stretches across from the town to Spanish territory, and in the day time your right to go is not questioned. A motley crowd goes back and forth along the way — carriages and foot- men, lines of donkeys bringing huge paniers of vegetables for the town supply or struggling under great bundles of hay for the garrison cattle. The difference between Gibraltar under the English and this border town under Spanish rule is notable and not to the credit of the latter. It is a picture of squalor and decay. Thrift and cleanliness seems unknown. Its buildings are generally of but one story and built of adobe. The streets are lowest in the middle, and the sanitary arrangements of the town seem to consist of throwing the town’s refuse into the streets and allowing it to float off — when it rains. It swarms with beggars, but has a bull-ring and Sunday sports for the amusement of its people, who seem hardly able to get their bread to say nothing of butter. In justice to Spain, however, I must say that there were other towns seen later which did not seem so utterly low, and some that would be a credit to any country. 33 THE CRUISE OE THE FRIESLAND. Catalina bay has been overlooked. It is on British territory, just around the shoulder of the North cliffs, where the level land ends in a pocket of the mountain. A little circling- beach is here, and upward from it, a thousand feet in height, in one un- broken slope, is a bank of white, unstable sand. Thrown upon the shore by the waves, it has been swept upward by the wind to where it now lies against the black rock. Around the bit of beach — in uncertain possession because of threatened avalanche — lies the little fishing village of Catalina. Clumsy boats are on the beach, with nets drying on reels or spread out on the sand. A single street leads along the water front. A little church stands at the head of the only lateral street which is about a hundred feet in length. A gaudily painted image of the Virgin and Child is in a niche over the door; within, lights are burning before shrines ; horribly realistic Christs are nailed to painted crosses, and weeping Marys and highly colored cherubs are here resting on highly improbable clouds. Along the streets are chickens and goats and children, and pretty black-eyed Spanish girls and horrible old women. Back to the ship again, to learn that when the captain on ar- rival “dropped anchor” — he dropped it literally, and with it a great number of fathoms of chain, valued at about $2,000, alto- gether, which it is rumored he must regain in some way if it takes a week to do it. We are in uncertainty as to the carrying out of the programme laid down for the morrow but finally turn in with the understanding that our watchful Paul will call us in time for any event that may need attention. Half dreaming, later we realize that the screw is throbbing and that we are moving through the water once more. Malaga from the Sea. MALAGA. Tuesday , February i