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THE

BURTON HOLMES

LECTURES

With Illustrations from Photographs
By the Author

COMPLETE IN TEN AOMMES
VOL. I\

'pi n" III

KIIK, MI«.HUi.\N

.TON COMPANY, lIMITf.D
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\ KABYLH GIRL

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THE

BURTON HOLMES

LECTURES

With Illustratio7is f?^oni P/iotog?'aphs
By the Author

COMPLETE IN TEN VOLUMES
VOL. IV

BATTLE CREEK, MICHIGAN

THE LITTLE-PRESTON COMPANY, LIMITED
M C M I

The "Edition Original " of The Burton Holmes Lectures
is Limited to One Thousand Sets.

The Registered Number of This Set is

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

IN THE picture-book of Africa there are few pa^es more
attractive than those devoted to Algeria — formerly the
greatest of the pirate states of Barbary, to-day the chief
colonial possession of the French republic.

A hundred years ago a \'isit to the I^arbary Coast was an
experience not to be desired by voyagers from Christian
lands, who then came not as tourists with cameras and guide-
books but as prisoners or slaves in manacles and cliains.

Cities white in outward scciiiiiig but black in rascality
and crime, then graced and at the same tiuu' disgraced the
smiliuij' southern shore of the Mediterranean Sea.

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

The various states of Barbary, Morocco, Tunis, Tripoli,
and Algeria, ruled by lawless potentates, then exacted tribute
from other governments both great and small.

The Corsair fleets of infamous memory then threatened
the maritime commerce of the world, respecting only the
ships that sailed under the flags of tribute-paying nations.

Algeria was the most arrogant of all these iniquitous prin-
cipalities. For two hundred years she was virtually mis-
tress of the Mediterranean, meriting well the epithet, the
"Scourge of Christendom." Europe shamefully acknowl-
edged her supremacy and took no effective steps to crush
the common enemy until the then young American republic,
emerging vic-
torious from
the War of
1 8 1 2 , had ex-
pended a little of her
surplus western energy
in chastising the high-
sea robbers and disprov-
ing their invincibility.

NEARING THE STRAITS

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

European governments had
for a long time feared them
and submitted to their de-
mands without question
The United States
questioned, and pro-
ceeded to prove to
the world that the
power of Algiers,
founded upon cow-
ardly tradition and
upheld by the timidi-
ties and rivalries of its

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

victims, could be shattered by a few well-directed cannon-
balls. England then administered a few sturdy strokes, and
France in 1830 struck the final blow, annihilating pirate rule
and transforming Algeria into a peaceful, law-abiding province.
The city of Algiers is now numbered among the most
popular resorts of those happy folk who have both the time
and the inclination to trot about the globe, seeking the beau-
tiful, the curious, and the picturesque. The most direct
route to the Barbary Coast is that followed by the steamers
of the German Mediterranean service, sailing from a New
Jersey ^^^^^^*^^^^^^^^ town, the name of which

is dear to globe-trot-
ters, for Hoboken
lies at the great
gate- way to
the world of

TASSINf; TARIKA

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

1 1

THE HARBOR OF ALGIERS

travel. The voyage is delightful. A glimpse of the Azores,
a smile from old Tangier, and a frown from Gibraltar as we
pass the straits — then the blue calmness of the Mediterra-
nean, and at last on the eleventh day a gracious sunny wel-
come from Algiers, the most beautiful city of North Africa.
As our great ship slowly approaches the entrance to the
harbor, there is unrolled before us a panorama of the city
and the pretty suburbs perched on the slopes of neighboring
hills. Far up to the right we see the church of "Our Lady
of Africa. ' ' By slow degrees the city proper comes in view.
Beyond the great stone breakwater we see a broad boulevard
and the fa9ades of elegant European structures, but behind
this nineteenth-century mask rises the real Algiers, tlie Arab
city, dazzling white, apparently cut from a block of spotless
marble, while in realitv its sncnv)- brilliancy is due to

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

oft-repeated applications of prosaic whitewash. Above that
resplendent mass of houses formerly stood the citadel or
kasbah of the much-dreaded Algerine deys, whose successful
lawlessness was the cause that led the French to undertake
the conquest of Algeria. No more do fleets of Corsairs set
forth from Algiers ' splendid harbor ; no more do pirate chiefs
return hither laden with booty of inestimable value and
bringing scores of Christian captives doomed to lives of toil
or to the slavery of Moorish harems. In three-score years
and ten great changes have been wrought. The magnificent
effect produced by the modern face of this much-altered city
is owing to Anglo-Saxon enterprise. For it was an English
syndicate that ^^^^(•^■^■■^^^^n^^^^ constructed the
splendid ^^i^^^ ^^^^^ qua is of

cut ^^^ ^^W stone

A TERRACED 7 0\WN

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

m K— B. ■ B 1 MjMI

.HKS AND Ml-.kCHANDlNK

and the superb terrace along which runs the Boulevard
de la Republique. The terrace is supported by a series of
graceful arches ; inclined roadways lead up from the quai
level to the streets above. It is the syndicate also that
owns that long row of handsome uniform structures, which,
occupied as hotels, apartments, offices, and shops, give to
the face of Algiers features so regular and modern. Be-
yond all this upon the eastern hills far to the left are the

MUDKKN llAKHAK'i

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

luxurious villas and hotels of Mustapha Superieur, the most
attractive suhurb.

Arrival in the harbor recalls our gaze to more immedi-
ate surroundings. The New Mosque is the only feature in
the foreground that tells us we are in the Orient, or more
correctly, in an Oriental Occident, for Algiers we must
remember is no farther east than Paris. The piles of
merchandise on the wharves prove that commerce now
flourishes as successfully as piracy thrived in former days.

\\'ith no misgivings we approach the pirate shore, con-
fident in the assurance that the days of piracy are ended.
\\'e have, in accordance with the advice of the guide-book,
made a firm bargain with the Arab boatmen for the transfer
of our baggage from steamer to hotel ; but before permitting
us to land, one of the modern pirates, clad in what my friend
"^ ^ termed ' ' Midway

trousers, " inti-
mates that if we
wish ever to get
our baggage from
his boat, it would
be well for us to
give an extra
franc or two to
swell the Coffee
Fund of the crew.
No Moslem with
any self-respect
would demand a
' ' J^o iirhoirc,
for this word sug-
gests indulgence
in alcoholic liq-
uors, forbidden

' M 1 1) WAV
TKOL'SEKS "

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

PAY, PAY, PAY !

by the Prophet's law. The coffee money
being handed over, the boat-
men quite leisurely pile our
belongings on a little push-
cart, and we hopefully
prepare to ascend from thf
port to the city overheac
But again, the pirate
spirit intervenes ; our
moving-contractors, encouraged by
our weakness in yielding to their
first demand for tribute, inform us that the contract with
them is now and forever null and void ; that the sum agreed
to on board the ship is not the sum that they intend to
accept. In vain we plead with them, exhorting them to
mercy. They are as relentless with the Christian stranded
on their shore as were their cut-throat ancestors, save that
they find it more profitable to cut purse-strings than to
sever jugular veins. This second attempt at extortion is as
successful as the iirst, in spite of the presence of a French
policeman whose sole idea of duty is to call the thieves
"' ca>nii//r'\' and offer us his sympathy.

However, our troubles are now over. The
men who have collected all the money
disappear, leaving one poor perspir-
ing Arab, who has received only a
few pennies from them, to haul the
heavily laden cart up the long-
inclined roadway from the landing-
place to the level of the business
V*^ (luarter of .Mgiers. As we follow
our belongings up the long zigzag road-
^ \\a\-s, we pass the arched habita-
tions of the ".\lgerian ("Hff DwcIKts" ;

IMPI-.m.Ml.N I A

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

for this cliff of masonry is not merely a monumental im-
provement intended to give dignity to the chief city of
French Africa, it is a rent-producing construction. Within
it are cavernous cellars, warerooms, storage vaults, and the
offices of commission-merchants and shipping-agencies ; and
at the angle near the mosque a fish-market is held in huge
halls of stone, damp and cool. Below on the broad quai

I.IKK THE RUE DE RIVOLI

we see acres of merchandise, crowded warehouses, railway
tracks, and loaded cars, all suggestive of a nineteenth century
activity. The boulevard above is almost a reproduction of
the Rue de Rivoli of Paris. The buildings are nearly uniform
in height and in design. There are the usual rows of bal-
conies, the sidewalks run beneath continuous arcades, the
windows of the shops are dressed with French daintiness,
the restaurants, inside and out, recall those of the gay

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

metropolis ; the language spoken is the same, and the people
with the exception of the long robed Arabs have for their
prototypes the continental Frenchman. So perfectly does
this colonial city ape in its architecture and in the details of
its daily life the most attractive of the world "s great capitals
that we involuntarily look for the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower,
and the Seine. The Hotel de 1' Europe is Parisian in its
appointments. The concierg-c, the g^arqoii, and the fcniuic
dc cJiambrc are of the usual Gallic type. At table d' bote
we realize that one of the greatest blessings of the French
conquest is the fact that the French cook has followed the
French soldier into Africa. The military chiefs did but pre-
pare the way for the advent of one greater than themselves —
the culinary chef. \^ivc la rm'shic I'^rcn/atisc.

Our windows overlook on one side the Mediterranean,
on the other the --

Pic

iiori-.i u\: l' la Kiiri',

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

AN AFRICAN PARIS

buildings of the European quarter ; of these the Theater is
most conspicuous. But this is not the real Algiers. The
Arab city is behind and above all this. That cascade of
white roofs that seems to come tumbling from the sky, —
that is the real Algiers or at least what is left of it. The
old city was called by the Arabs, ' ' El Jazair, " " the penin-
sulas, ' ' a name from which the French have derived the
modern name of Alger, a name which we in turn have cor-
rupted into Algiers, a word quite unfamiliar to the natives.
Formerly that white l^ood of roofs and terraces descended
to the shore, but it has been forced back, and every year
the French build their modern dikes higher and higher on
the slopes. The white city contracts ; the dull-hued struct-
ures of civilization creep steadily up-hill, and will in time
entirely blot out the native quarter or reduce it to the.
commonplace.

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

Impatient to explore the streets of both the new and the
older city, we find ourselves an hour later on the Boulevard ;
but an attack on the part of a band of Barbary boot-blacks
drives us into the neutral harbor of a popular cafe. Two
of the corsairs, nothing- daunted, pursue us even here, cap-
ture each a single foot, and proceed to apply tan polish to
our shoes with as much vigor as their ancestors displayed
less than a century ago in applying tan to the hides of our
Christian forefathers when by ill chance they were thrown
on these shores. The cafe, like all the others, is of the tj'pe
familiar on the boulevards of Paris, and the aroma of absinthe
that permeates the atmosphere proves unmistakably that the
Algerian colonist has not lost the love for that unwholesome
liquor of which the continental Frenchman is so passionately
fond. In fact, so thoroughly Gallic appears this portion of
the city that we can scarcely believe the histories that tell
us that a little less than fourscore years ago piratical El
Jazai'r was as thorough!}' Arabic as are to-day Tripoli and Fez.
Seventy years has sufnced to these energetic Frenchmen

PIVISION OK I AiJOK

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

not only for the capture of the coast cities, the subjugation
of the barbarous tribes of the mountains and the desert, but
in that short space of time they have built cities of European
aspect, extended everywhere magnificent roads marvelously
engineered, and created a railway system which, although
still incomplete, traverses the province from Tunis to the
frontier of Morocco, and extends three long branches far
southward toward the Sudan, Timbuktu, and Senegal.

THE THEATER

The people have gained much through the change in gov-
ernment. Under the French the native enjoys rights and
privileges of which he never even dreamed when deys and
beys and pashas, appointed by the Turkish sultan or raised
to supreme authority by the power of the local troops or Jan-
izaries, ruled and mercilessly robbed him. The poor Arab
owes a debt of gratitude to the last of those tyrant deys, the
potentate who, after misruling the land for many years,
became unintentionally instrumental in bringing on the war
which assured his own destruction and the welfare of his

Photograph by Ncurdeln Krercs

THE MUSEUM OF ALGIERS

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

liy P

people. He struck the French consul across the face with a
fan during an angry interview, thus precipitating the war of
conquest for which France had long been waiting an ade-
quate excuse. And while we wander through the streets and
across the squares of modern Algiers and up into the narrow
byways of the native quarter, let us review the story of the
Barbary corsairs from the time when they first became for-

Al.i;iKRS FROM nil'; kasbah

midable in the sixteenth century down to tliat da\- in i S30
when their ruler administered that fatal slap to the represen-
tative of France, a nation at that time jirepared and eager to
attack the scourge of C^hristeiidom. The Arahs, as ^ve know,
invaded Afri(-a and j)enetrated into Spain in the eighth cen-
tur\-. In llu' fifteenth centurx' tlie Saracens were thrust

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

back from Spain by Ferdinand and Isabella. Burning with
hatred of their conquerors they established all along the
northern shore of Africa a chain of pirate cities. Their one
object in life became revenge. Europe had cast them forth,
the fleets of Europe should therefore be their spoil ; the fruits
of piracy support them in their exile. The first leader to
bring Algiers prominently forward as a pirate power was the
renegade Greek, Barbarossa, who called himself the " Friend
of the Sea and the Enemy of all who sail upon it." The
sailors and passengers upon the captured ships were sold as
slaves in the Algerian market-places. No less a personage
than Cervantes, author of " Don Quixote " was here sold at
the block in 1575. He served five years in the house of a
cruel Moslem master, and had he not escaped, we should
never have known the lanky Knight of La Mancha nor
laughed at Sancho Panza's jests. But fortunately he did
escape and lived to write his famous work in which he says,
referring to the Turkish viceroy who ruled Algiers at the time
of his captivity, "Every day he hanged a slave, impaled one,

1 H !•: 1' A 1

\ l-.kNcik-l,KNER.\l.

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

cut off the ears of another, and this upon so httle animus or
so entirely without cause that the Turks would own that he
did it for the sake of doing it and because it was his nature. "
The carvings of wood and stone in the old palaces are
the work of Christian slaves, of whom there were at one time
no fewer than twenty-five thousand held in the city of x\lgiers
alone. Many Christian priests voluntarily gave themselves
up to the pirates and became slaves that

they might min- ^.^^''^^ ~~~~---,.^^ ister the com-

forts of re- / ^\ ligion to the

PI.ACK DU GOUVERNEMENT

miserable captives.
The price of slaves was
quoted daily in the market-place ; "Christian dogs are very
cheap to-da}', ' would be the word passed from mouth to
mouth on the arrival of a corsair ileet \\ith its convo}' of
captured merchant-men. Then iVrab chiefs, witli faces
of dark bronze, or negroes, raised to wealth and intiu-
ence by their courage or their \illainy, would assemble to
make bids for the human mcrcliaiiilisc wliich was not alwa\'s
common stuff. Records tell of hunih'eds of gentlemen, —
:i

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

doctors, lawyers, or scholars, of France or Spain or England
who were knocked down to the highest bidder ; their wives,
refined and delicate women, were torn from them and sold to
brutal masters ; children were separated from their parents
and educated in the religion of these robber lords. One
captive out of every eight was allotted to the dey, a ruler
who invariably owed his position to the soldiery, and who
almost invariably was doomed to perish by poison or the
ibowstring when some other leader should arise to win the
support and favor of the fickle Janizaries, the veritable
rulers of the land. One of these deys confessed to a foreign
consul who upbraided him, " The Algerines are a company
of rogues ' ' ; and he added proudly, ' ' And I am their captain.

The pirates at one time grew so bold that they threatened
to go to Great Britain and drag men out of their beds. Nor

m:tt

i;.j±.

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

THE NEW MDSnlK

must

Sea. But we
of the Euro
p e a n gov'

ernments in p

1-1 .■ "^

diplomatic t1

dealings |

was this an idle threat. In 163 1
they sacked the town of Bal-
timore in County Cork and
carried off more than two
hundred Irishmen. Ten
years later, sixty men
were taken from the
shores of England near
Penzance. The fisher-
men of Plymouth, Exe-
ter, and Dartmouth for a
long time after dared not
to put to sea. It is even
stated that the Algerine fleet
one occasion ravaged the
shores of Iceland in the Arctic
not forget that in spite of the cowardice

NT AND ORIENT

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

of robbers, many brave, generous efforts were made by private
persons and corporations to effect the rescue of these Chris-
tian slaves or to redeem them by the payment of a ransom — -
but narrow-mindedness frequently controlled the action of
the redemptionists as is proved by the following incident : —
A group of missionaries purchased the liberty of three
slaves for a good round price — the dey being in a magnani-
mous mood threw ; J0^''WM

in a fourth, a poor _ fj^' Jp

sick useless pris-
oner ; but the pur-
chasers refused to
take him because,
forsooth, he was
not of their be-
lief. But the res-

CHRISTIAN MINARETS

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

cued ones were few in number as compared to those who,
abandoned by their cowardly governments, remained as
slaves to the haughty Algerines. But cruel and inhuman as
they were, the Barbary corsairs were never mere barbarians
Nor were the cruelties and inhumanities practiced by them
upon their prisoners greater than those inflicted in contem-
porary times by Christian governments or even by the church
itself in the days of the Inquisition. The Saracens held no
monopoly of the rack, the fetid dungeon, the torture-cham-
ber, and the stake. But they were Mohammedans, therefore
their deeds excited greater indignation. Yet the oft-threat-
ened punishment was not administered. The powers of
Europe could in those days no more agree to act in concert
than they can at the present time.

For more than two hundred years the Algerines exacted
tribute money from the greatest nations of the world, and
this in spite of the fact that their whole naval force was not

equal to that of any
one of the fourth-
rate powers.

Algiers declared
that she was sov-
ereign of all the
Mediterranean ,
and that no na-
tion could navigate
that sea in safety
until i 111 111 unit \'
from attack hail
I b I' I'll purchased.
The tri'aty signed
\' ith 1"' r a n c e in
I ;SS called ior
liir j)ayiiu'nt of a

WIII-.Kl Ill.I ll'.\ MRS Sl.KI-.

-.8

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

million francs a year, rich presents every ten years, and a
large amount of cash paid down. Spain's temporary peace
with the pirate power cost her live million dollars. England
paid almost three hundred thousand dollars every year. She
was, it is true, strong enough to have put down the pirates,
but apparently she preferred to support them as destroyers of

WHITEWASH AND SUNSHINE

the commerce of her rival nations, and paid a large, shameful
tribute in order to keep the price of immunity above the reach
of the lesser states of Europe.

The following clause reads strangely in the treaty with the
mighty British nation : ' ' Liberty is granted to the Alger-
ines to search British vessels and to take out all persons and

l^^HXJMkUlu

IN OLD ALGIERS

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

goods not belong-
ing to the British
nation." Year
after year the Al-
gerines still main-
tained their right
to search all ships
encountered on
the seas ; those
furnished with
passes from trib-
ute-paying na-
tions were per-
mitted to go upon
their way ; the
others were re-
garded as the le-
gal prey of the
Algerian govern-
ment. To our shame it must be confessed that up to the
year i <Soo, the United States also had poured more than two
million dollars of tribute money into the coffers of the de}'.
In that year Captain Bainbridge, in a United States warship,
came to Algiers bringing the customary "presents." The
dey commanded him to become his messenger and carry his
despatches to Constantinople. "The English, French, and
Spanish captains have always done this service for me ; you
also pay me tribute, and you also are m\' skn'es. " And the
captain, not daring to take action without orders, was forced
to swallow the insult and obey the insolent command. But
when the War of 18 12 had been brought to a successful
termination, there came a change in the attitude of our gov-
ernment, and it is to our credit that the then youngest of the
great nations of the world, the United States of America, was

LA BELLE FATnL\

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

the first of all the nations of the world to defy the dey and
refuse to crin,iie before him. "Millions for defense but not
one cent for tribute " became the cry of an indignant people.
It was in 1 8 1 5 that Commodore Decatur served notice on the

would not under

imstance

nish any

TO THE MEMORY OK
THOSE WHO HAVE PERISHED AT SEA

"but the balls g:o with it.

suggested
that he would take
instead some pow-
der for his fleet. "The
powder you shall have if
you insist, ' ' replied Decatur,
And for the first time in his
life the dey refused a proffered present. A few months
later the Algerines having committed more depredations on
our shipping, the Commodore insisted upon presenting them
with a good round of tribute in the form of cannon-balls. He
captured the largest frigate of the pirate fleet and threatened
the city itself. The dey, terrified, sued for peace, and on the
deck of Decatur's gallant ship he signed a treaty vastly dif-
ferent from the treaties that his predecessors had been wont
to make with Christian powers. By the terms of this treaty
he was bound to release all Americans held as slaves, pay an
indemnity, and renounce all claim to future tribute. One year
later, 18 16, the English fleet sailed into the harbor of Algiers.
The abolition of Christian slavery was demanded. The
dey insultingly declined to obey, whereupon the English made

-XJft?',,,

rr-i

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

fast their ships to the breakwater, and proceeded in a
cool, dogged, British fashion to demohsh Algiers. At the
lirst broadside five hundred people were struck down in
the streets ; and when Lord Exmouth sailed away, one half
the houses in the city were in ruins, and the entire pirate
navy was destroyed. From that day Christian slavery
ceased to exist. The Christian nations regained their self-
respect. But the scourge of Christendom was only scotched
not killed. The death-blow was withheld for fourteen years.
The hand of France had long been raised to strike it, when at
last, in 1830, on the 13th of June, the ruling dey of Algiers,
losing his temper, tapped the French consul insolently
in the face and brought down upon himself and all his
rascally crew a counter-blow, struck by a sea and land force
of over forty thousand Frenchmen, — a blow that crushed
forever this nest of piracy and gave to the conquering nation
a beautiful city and a province half as large as France.
This blow w a s
struck, appropri-
ately, on the 4th '"
day of July.

Since then the
French have been
performing mira-
cles of progress,
and to-day Al-
giers stands as
the chief city of
the French colo-
nial world. It is
also one of the
most ])opular of
the many winter
resorts borderintr

TIIK IIOTKI. SPLENDIDl-:

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

upon the Mediterranean. The suburbs are especially at-
tractive. They are the haunt of tourists and health-seekers.
From the slopes of Mustapha Superieur a number of
excellent hotels dominate a lovely prospect. Algiers itself
lies gleaming in the distance. A band of green marks the
line of landward fortifications. Then begins the amphi-
theater formed by the heights of Mustapha. The lower part,
the pit, as it were, is occupied by factories and barracks ;
above in the dress circle are seated in luxuriant gardens
villas and pensions ; and, higher still, perched in the most
commanding situations, there are magnificent caravansaries
equal to the best that can be found on the Riviera. A
charming climate renders out-of-door life delightful, and the
hotels provide attractive terraces and gardens where the

Mil. II \( Ni 111- nil-; iiKAi rii-sKi' Ki-.K

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

A HOTEL TERRACE

idler or the convalescent may find the truth of that Italian
saying, — Che dolcc far nioite. It is indeed sweet to do
nothing at Mustapha Superieur. To establish oneself amid
the fair surroundings of that suburb is death to energy ; am-
bition to see sights and visit mosques and palaces is crushed
definitely, and there ensues a spell of lotus-eating, which
will be recalled as among*the most delightful features of our
journey. To lovers of social gaieties who bring the proper
introductions, the \'illas of English and American winter
residents open their hospitable doors. The delights of five
o clocks, high teas, and dancing parties are enhanced a
thousandfold by an ideal invironment.

The villas are usually Moorish in design, though occupied
by foreigners. The Moors themselves do not now build
dainty palaces as in the olden days. It has remained for
European taste and wealth to create here on the shore of

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

A \!L1,A A I MISIAPHA SUPERIEUR

Africa these tiny Alhambras containing all that is best in
Moorish art combined with all the comforts of our century.
And the gardens, in the midst of which these architectural
gems are set, are beautiful beyond description. They are
miniature Edens, conjured into existence by the magic of
a southern sun. But we must leave all this.

The city of Algiers, delightful as it is, will not satisfy the
traveler who has come to see the province of Algeria. Rail-
ways have brought even the remote corners of the land
within the reach of those who do not fear the discomforts
of slow trains. We may go westward toward the thriving

rilut.inrapll by N,iir.li-iM 1-

A STREKT IX TLKMCKN

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

port of Oran, halting' at Hammam Rirha, where a huge hotel
has been built to accommodate the prospective visitors to
the hot springs of the region. Our destination, however, is
not Oran, which is a modern and uninteresting town, but
Tlem^en, once the proud capital of a Moorish kingdom, a
rival to the kingdoms of Fez and of Granada.

But even Tlem^en already shows the impress of her
French masters, and her structures form a motley ensemble
of crude and semi-European buildings, with here and there
the remains of a Moorish arch, or a fragment of x\rabic
tracery. Splendid, indeed, must have been the Tlemgen of
the Middle Ages, when within her walls there lived a popula-
tion of a hundred thousand. One of the daintiest bits of old
Tlemgen may be found in all its picturesque decay near the

CITIES OF THE Bx\RBARY COAST

Mosque of Sidi Bou Mediiie, not far from the Tlemgen of
to-day. We make our way across vacant fields, once the
site of a capital renowned for luxury and learning, to the
tinv hamlet where, through many wars and conquests, has
been preserved much of the grace and beauty of the old
Arabic art and architecture. Arabic in more than architec-
ture is that little detached quarter. It boasts the virtue
of numbering not a single unbeliever among its inhabitants,
while buried in its mosque are many saints of Islam, and in
its ruined college the Koran is taught by an aged taleeb.
Few know the history of Tlemgen, yet it is a subject worthy
the song of an epic poet. Arabic historians tell us that
proud Tlem^en had already undergone many sieges and
assaults when Mulai Yakub, sultan of Fez, came to avenge
a fancied wrong and to assert his power. He came prepared
to achieve her conquest, cost what it might. His plan was
most ambitious, including as it did the founding of a new
city close at hand, where he and his court, his army and
his people, might dwell in luxury while carrying on the

HOTEL AT HAMMAM RIRHA

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

siege which he foresaw would be a lengthy one. That the
city, \\hich he created and named Mansoura, was no mere
warrior camp, is visibly proved by the massive walls which
still remain. Within their confines, mosques, palaces, and
dwellings sprang up as if by magic until Mansoura, the be-
sieging" camp, rivaled in splendor and in size the closely
invested but valiantly defended Tlem^en. As the walls of
the towering minaret of Mansoura have outlived the glory
of the city over which it watched in other days, so did the
struggle for the possession of Tlem^en outlive the man who
gave it birth, — outlive his son, — both being poisoned by their
servitors ; and as the minaret is now^ falling a prey to time,
so did time end that mighty struggle by wearying the com-
batants on both sides. Strange destiny. TIenKjen vowed to
destruction exists to-day, infused with new life, while Man-
soura the haughty, sacked and pillaged after the departure
of the Moorish ^■^!^^!S?5??5';?*;
hosts, has seen ■ • r^
her two hundred
and fifty deserted
acres planted
\\' i t h vines by '
later generations
of her enemies, k
her walls and tow-
ers broken by the
weight of years.
The minaret
of Mansoura, a
huge square tow-
er nearly a hun-
dred and fifty feet
in height, appears
intact from one

ORIKNTAL ART AND OCCIDKNTAL fOMFORT

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

AN AFRICAN ACCOMMODATION

point of view, while from another it is apparently in ruins.
We are assured that this condition of partial decay proves the
enduring worth of the labor of the Prophet 's followers and its
superiority over that of unbelievers ; for the walls that have
crumbled and fallen were built by Christian slaves and Jews,-
while the walls reared by Moslem masons have successfully
resisted the attacks of time.

Turning from Tlem9en and its souvenirs of the dead

THE ALGERIAN EXPRESS

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

past, we journey eastward by
rail, crossing a fertile region
where the prosperous farms
of the French colonists tell
of an active present and a
hopeful future.

Through the kindness of
a friend we were invited to
visit the estate of a French
gentleman, son of a pioneer
in this new land. Arriving
at the gateway of a fortress-
like residence far from the
railway line, we hnd the
entire family arrayed to give
us a welcome. Although
our host is French, our host-
ess is an English woman,
who is thoroughly in sym-
pathy vvith her husband in
his brave attempt to found
a Christian home in this still
savage region. This home they call the " Ferme St. Jean."
The various buildings open only on the inner court-}'ard,
presenting to the outer world formidable walls pierced here
and there by a loophole or a narrow window. Every farmer
is or has been a soldier, and every farm-house may on short
notice be converted into a military stronghold. The days
of Arab -outbreaks are of too recent date to warrant the
erection of dainty isolated houses. We visit the wine- and
alive-presses, the stables, granaries, and gardens of "St.
John's Farm. " Tlie colonist's life is not by any means a
lazy one. Every morning our host is early in the saddle,
galloping away, lirst to direct the work of Arab laborers in

WHAT IS I 111-: ARABIC \Vf)RD FOR "RUBBKR

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

the distant fields, then to tlie neighboring town to transact
important business, — the sale of wine, the purchase of
machinery or supplies. "I shall rest," he said, "when I
am old. You see," he added, pointing to his little army of
tow-headed and lusty Angio-Saxo-Franco Algerians, " there'll
be no lack of young Duloupys to manage my affairs when I
shall have earned my right to leisure. " We could but admit
that there was every prospect that the farm would not pass
out of the family. With their mother's British pluck, their
father's French cleverness, and the knowledge that to them
and to their generation the world looks for the building of
New France and for the perpetuation of an enlightened
government upon the shores of the Dark Continent, what
may these youngsters not accomplish in the cause of liberty
and progress ? They may indeed accomplish much, but not
unless they are content to re-
main colonists, to forget that
they are Frenchmen, to con-
quer that almost irresistible
impulse of the Frenchman to
rush to the boulevards of Paris

A FORTRESS-LIKE RESIDENCE

l'h..t,.;;r.l[l. I.y Ncur.lcin l-i

THE MANSOUKA TOWKK, Tl.KNUlCX

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

WELCOME

as soon as he has gained a
small competency. If
the French colonist
would invent a
word for ]iome,
and apply it with
all his heart to
this land he has
conquered and has
.4^ adopted ; if he would
resolve to live and die
as an Algerian and in Algeria,
and to do his work and conduct his affairs in this intent, the
government would not find every year that awful deficit in
Algerian finances.

France has given freely of her blood and of her gold to
win this province for her children. She has established her
dominion from the borders of Tripoli to the borders of
Morocco and from the Mediterranean to the Sahara. She has
created means of communication in the desert, and through
the wild mountainous regions ; she has prepared the fields for
the laborers, but the laborers come only in small numbers or
come with the hope of a speedy return
to France as their chief preocci
tion. The future prosperity
Algeria is problematical. As
an investment French Al-
geria is a gigantic failure.
As a proof of the wonder- ■
ful administrative genius "-
of the French, Algeria is
a success. As a training
ground for the armies of
the future, Algeria is invalu-

AT ST. JOHN'S FARM

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

able to France. This little
glimpse of the New African
France has increased our
desire to know what
this land was like be-
fore the coming of
the Gaul, and we
ask, ' ' What of the
original inhabitants
of Barbary ? What
of the people who
dwelt in the land even
before the Romans, the
Vandals, or the Arabs had
swept over it ? What of the
people found already on the scene at the dawn of history ?
Have they been exterminated by successive conquests?"
Let me in reply conduct you into a mountain region called
Kabylia, where we shall find our answer. The Kabyle Moun-
tains lie about seventy miles east of the city of Algiers.

ANGLO-SAXO-FRANCO ALGERIANS

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

A VILLAGE ON EVKRV HILL-TOP

The railway brings us to the foothihs — to Tizi-Ouzou,
whence we proceed by diligence. Our destination is Fort
National, a military outpost of the French, perched on a
ridge seemingly inaccessible ; and while our coach, clumsy,
shaky, and dilapidated slowly creaks on its complaining way
over the mountain road, the driver tells us the strange names
of the Kabyle villages that crown every mountain-top in

•su-f-'rrvvv

■^-igf^rs

Si^TBI

5^.

'^''^^^r^s^"!^

m.-

•A • '

■•WM.

j-^™--

■f '

•if^Eti

-«rr

1^ ■•>

>i>^

'>.

M-

I .

'Wf^^

[i^i

•,^ ^

I UK 1 .NA I 11 'NAL

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

sight. The fertile slopes are given to the culture of the
olive and the fig. Peaceful indeed is the scene, and de-
lightful our slow ascent. We almost forget the blood that
has been shed by France in penetrating this region to estab-
lish yonder post, and the hopelessly heroic defense of the
brave Berber Kabvles, who from their mountain villages bore

Ily Y

TOWN AND BARRACKS — FORT NATIONAL

down upon the invaders and fought with a courage and
determination born of the proud consciousness that never
in the history of Barbary had their land been violated by
a foreign foe. Roman, Vandal, and Arab had alike recoiled
before the assault of these hardy mountaineers. But what
all former invaders had failed to do, the French in 1857

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

:#7-^"vf

DEPARTURfc; FROM FORT NATIONAL

finally accomplished, and by means of the construction of Fort
National they hope to maintain their influence, although they
can never subdue in spirit the vanquished Kabyle race.
Peace — for the present — reigns.

Within the walled confines of the post a little city has
arisen with its churches, cafes, umim hotels, and

promenades. This little

EASTKK .MOK.NIN1; IN |;ABYL1A

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

inhabited by about three hundred French civiHans and a
large garrison. It was the evening before Easter that I
arrived at this Hotel dcs Touristcs, having ascended from
the valleys in a stage-coach so crowded that the only place
available for me was in an Arab's lap.

Easter Sunday dawned gloriously fair, and at an early
hour we mounted our mules for an expedition or rather a
plunge into Kabylia. Where could we have found a more
inspiring temple in which to worship that Easter morning }
What erander al- -- . tar than the snow-

capped chain

of the Djurdjura Atlas, that likr a reredos of gleaming
marble lifts its imposing mass against the azure dome of
heaven ! Morning vapors rise like clouds of incense to
envelop it. Like a great choir-screen, a range of lesser
mountains — dark and green — is extended between us and
that inviolable altar. Upon their crests we may discern in
delicate relief the five superbly situated villages of the famous
Kabyle tribe, the Beni Yenni. The object of our day's ex-
cursion is to reach those distant crests, and to attain them
we must plunge into the depths of the intervening valleys,
and, crossing a turbulent river, climb the precipitous flank

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

of the opposing ridge. As we descend a rocky pathway,
verdure hned, we see above us other villages that mysteri-
ously appear, and a moment later vanish, as our downward
zigzag progress reveals new vistas. We have turned aside
from the highroad constructed by the French and find
ourselves upon the narrow mule-trails worn by centuries of
use. In addition to these trails there is a network of by-
paths, short cuts from trail to trail. Along these dizzy paths

WOMliN OF THE liliM VKNNl

we see the Kabyle children dashing recklessly; yet, educated
as they are upon the mountain-tops, they know no fear and
would feel out of place on level ground. Not less sure-
footed are the women of the tribe, those picturesque Rebec-
cas whom we find at every well, — the task of carrying water
being woman s privilege while the men reserve the right of
doing all the sewing. Unlike her Moorish sisters of the
cities, the Kabvle wife does not conceal her face, but, though

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

enjoying greater apparent freedom, she is none the less her
husband's slave. The marriage customs of the Kabyles are
brutally mercenary. The father bargains with the prospec-
tive son-in-law as to the price at which the daughter shall be
sold, the sum varying from fifty to a thousand francs, accord-
ing to the beauty of the girl; then after certain feastings and
festivities, in which the poor maiden does not participate,
she is delivered at the house of her future lord, who, drawing
his knife, presses its point upon her head, that she may know
that he is to be the master, she the slave. Remembering
these things, pity is mingled with our admiration for the
girlish beauty of these mountain maidens, a beauty undoubt-

MERRV LITTLE MOUNTAIN MAIDS

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

edly inherited from European ancestors, for scholars tell us
that into Kabylia has drifted the debris of many a Greek and
Roman colony. Happy in the ignorance of what the future
has in store for them, these pretty little savages greet us with
such merry demands for pennies that our store of coppers
quickly melts away in the sunshine of their smiles. Perhaps
the little one who gazes so frankly at us with her fine big
eyes is already sold. She may be destined to abuse and
neglect ; years of hard labor are her certain lot, and possibly,
when she shall have lost her youthful charm, her husband,
with the sanction of the Kabyle law, will divorce her by utter-
ing a simple formula that instantly unties the marriage knot.
The law, however, permits her to remarry after a certain
lapse of time, the most curious part of the situation being
that if she does remarry and her father receives a second sum

SLOW FREIGHT

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

of purchase money, husband No. i may intervene and
demand a refunding of his original investment. Strangely
enough, a man may not remarry his own divorced widow,
even if he be so disposed, until she has been married to a
second husband and for a second time divorced. Upon such
remarriage with husband No. i, the father of the bride may
again make demand for the payment of the price, doubtless
a lower one than that first paid, the son-in-law being looked
upon as a wholesale customer, and the wife, in all proba-
bility, having gained nothing in beauty with the march of
time. But happy is the wife who, as the mother of a lusty

cows ARE TREATED I.IKE MEMBERS OK TIIIC FAMILY

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

IN 1 1 n-; V I L I A 1 , 1-.

Kabyle boy, is assured the favor
of her lord and master and
the right to wear upon her
brow in token of the
fact, that curious bit of
jewelry, a silver disk
adorned with bits of
coral and enamel.
We saw comparatively
few of them.

The complexions of
the women have suffered
from the ravages of time
and of the tattooer, and tluii

A MOIHKk

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

liiK BRACKI.Kl:

ideas of dressmaking are certainly rudimentary. A single
piece of goods, several yards in length, is draped about the
form, and tucked and folded and pinned until it takes on the
semblance of a gown, which,
simple, is not inartistic. Po^
tempts one of the matrons
sell me the jewel upon her
forehead. This transaction
creates a stir in the village,
and in less time than it
takes to t^ll it, we are
surrounded by a crowd of
importuning husbands, all
madly endeavoring to dis-
pose, at a handsome profit,
of the finery of their timidly
complaining wives.

LOOKING ON

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

Silver bracelets, anklets, brooches, coral-studded
ornaments for head and neck, old coins that have
been lying hidden for decades — all these and a hun-
dred other strange and curious belongings
are offered to us at prices that show a
flattering opinion of our pecuniary
standing. Like all semi-barbarous
people the Kabyles are possessed of -
an innate love for gaudy personal
adornment, and no family is so poor but
that on festal days its members may appear in
public loaded with jewels that in
kaleidoscopic effect are certainly the
most remarkable that we have ever seen.

They care not that mere coral takes the
place of rubies ; that base metal replaces
silver, and that much of the enamel is little better than mere
paint. \\"hat they are after is the effect, and more effective
jewelry is seldom seen. \\"e bought a generous quantity.

Imagine my surprise upon being accosted in one of these
villages by a smiling Kabyle, who exclaimed with a distinctly

I SAW YOU, SIR. ON
THE midway"'

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

American accent, "Ah, there, mister! I saw you, sir, on
the Midway." The speaker had spent six months in Chi-
cago seUing Kabyle jewelry at the World's Fair. Members

KABYI.E SCHOOLBOYS

of the rising generation politely speak to us in excellent
French. One little boy who served us as a guide displayed
such a knowledge of geography and the simple sciences as
to excite our wonder. "Where," we asked him, "have
you learned so much ? Your taleebs who teach you to read
the Koran in the mosque know nothing of these things.
" No, " he replied, "the taleebs do not know as much as I,
for I go to the French school. I'll take you there, it is not
far ; " and a moment later we were in the midst of a group

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

of Kabyle schoolboys, who, capped with red fezes, look
more like a bed of poppies than ought else.

A number of these schools have been established in the
mountains, and an attempt is being made to supplement the
meager, almost useless, instruction received by the children
from their native teachers. We are told that the intelligence
and aptness of many of the pupils promise much for the
future of the Kabyle race, a brave, industrious people lacking
only education to make them worthy citizens of the nation
to which they now owe allegiance.

Still guided by our little friend, we reached an hour later
the retreat of a famous " Marabout, " or saint, perched on an
isolated peak. The power of the Marabouts, self-appointed

THK MARABOTT ON THK MOfNTAIN

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

KAHYLK HOLSh

representatives of God, is still considerable, and as long as
it endures, the French \\ill find in them the bitterest and
most effective enemies of progress. The reverence with
which our boy companion greeted the aged saint proved how
deeply he was impressed by the supposed holiness of the old
fraud. I do not hesitate to call him such, for to my re-
spectful compliments he replied, "Yes, you are right. I
am a very holy man ; you ought to give me money." Of
course we made a contribution, and when we saw the
miserable pilgrims lying roundabout rolled in straw mats,
and learned that they all receive at the hands of our saintly
host both food and shelter, we did not in the least begrudge
the gift. Still we could not but distrust the charitable

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

motives of the hermit, for we remembered that the Kabyles
would never have joined the insurgents during the great
revolt of 1 87 1 had not the Marabouts proclaimed a holy
war and used their iniiuence with the ignorant to urge the
people on to battle. To them was due the rising of the
entire region, and on their heads rests the blood shed by
friend and foe. And as we approach the village of Icher-
ridhen, around which raged the fiercest conflicts both of the
war of occupation and of the revolt, I need not remind you
that the Kabyles are splendid fighters. For centuries they
were unconquerable and their mountain home inviolable.
Is not the word "Zouave " a word that signifies all that
is brave, brilliant, and daring in a soldier, merely a corrup-
tion of the name of a famous Kab3de tribe, the "Zwawa" ?
The original Zouave regiments were formed here in Algeria.
They were composed of French and Kabyle fighters, selected
from among the bravest of the brave. Later the native

By Permission

K.MtNLKS

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

soldiers were formed into separate
battalions, under the name of
"Turcos " ; but the Conti-
nental Zouaves retained
v*. the native dress and
name, — a name that
has since become in
almost every country
in the world a syn-
o n y m for military
accuracy, skill, and
One cus-
tom may explain the
splendid stand made
bv these untutored

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

mountaineers against the trained armies of the French, who
under Macmahon in 1857 and under Lallemand in 1871 found
them such worthy adversaries. Upon the eve of war the
young men of all tribes were enrolled in a special corps called
the " Immessebelen. " These men were looked upon by
their families as already dead, and funeral prayers were re-

'''*'''*^^5^':?rif*-s^w-.««*-K .,:..^-- .

VILLAGES CROWN EVERY HEIGHT

peated over them when they marched out to battle. Their
right to live could be redeemed only by a victorious return.
Upon them were impressed the assurances of the Marabouts
that heaven would be the reward of the slain, and that per-
petual disgrace would overwhchn those who should outlive
defeat. These very hills ha\(j witnessed such deeds of

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

ROMAN AQUEDUCT NEAR CONSTANTINE

hopeless heroism as could have been inspired only by the hrm
conviction that death meant paradise, defeat life-long dis-
honor. Such were and are the people who inhabit these
cloudland villages. Could we sweep the entire panorama, no
fewer than two hun- ^^^liBBi^^^^ dred villages would
be revealed to us. ^^^ *>^5»'^TtP^ -'^^ some near, some

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

far, but each on an aspiring height. Never shall I forget
the spectacle that greeted us the morn of our departure, —
great banks of cloud filled the abysmal valleys and the hill-
top settlements stood forth like tiny island cities in the midst

" KL KANTARA "

of a storm-tossed foamy sea, a unique archipelago suspended
like the coffin of Mohammed between the earth and sky.
Leaving Kabylia we travel eastward across the region of
the High Plateaux to Constantine, a long day's ride by rail
from iVigiers. " WhiMX- shall we lind words with which to

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

describe this most astonishing of cities ?

This is our

thought as we cross an amazing bridge, spanning a ravine
seemingly bottomless. The bridge is called by the Arabs

V*5;

...:Jt_„

Phoiojfraph by Neurdein I-reres

CONST ANTINE

"El Kantara, " " T/ie Bridge, " for it is a unique link, bind-
ing the city to the neighboring plateau, on the edge of which
our railway train has halted, panting as if in terror. We do
not fully realize the marvelous situation of the place until the
middle of the bridge is reached ; but as our coach whirls us
over that arch of steel, we see a sight that almost makes us
shudder. Our gaze plunges down and down between great
walls of rock into a moat such as no city in the world can
boast, a moat five hundred feet m depth, overhung by Titanic

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

walls of rock,, the battlements of which are human dwellings.
But entering this city of contrasts and surprises, we find that
its streets and squares do not suggest its perilous situation.
We might be in a city of the plains for aught the interior of
Constantine reveals to us. Among the buildings of the city
the only one that offers much of interest is the palace of
the last ruler or bey of Constantine, the heartless autocrat

THE "M<3Ar" OK CONSTANTINE

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

El Hadj Ahmed,
whose career of
crime was cut
short by the con-
quest. The ex-
terior of his abode
gives httle prom-
ise of the gor-
geousness within,
where we are
greeted by a scene
resembHngin fan-
tastic design and
gaudy coloring a
stage setting for
a spectacular ex-

PAINTINGS OF A PRISONER

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

travaganza. Indeed the life of the master of this palace was
a long, cruel extravaganza, until turned into somber tragedy by
the arrival of the conquering French. The story of the build-
ing of this pile gives us a key to the character of Ahmed bey.
Returning from a pilgrimage to Mecca, he resolved to
make himself a palace more luxurious than those of the
Oriental princes he had visited. To obtain the necessary
space he dispossessed his neighbors ; to obtain material he
robbed his subjects right and left. If a column or a carving
in the house of some rich man pleased him, down came the
house of the unhappy owner. From Italy came cargoes of
hue marbles, tiles and carven
wood, paid for by taxes
wrung from a suffering
people. More space
was needed. Down
came the neighbor-
ing houses with-
out apology or
payment, for the
bey was master
absolute of Con-
stantine. Thosf
who m u r m u r e d
were sentenced to
be bastinadoed ; those
who protested were sent
to offer their protests to
the jagged rocks in the
ravine five hundred feet
below. As for the mural
decorations, we are
told that a Chris-
tian slave who had

WIIKRK VULTURES CIRCLE

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

Till'; i;kidge oi" constantine

been languishing in the dungeons of the bey was brought
hither, presented with paint-pots and brushes, planted before
the naked walls, and told to cover them with pictures.
" But I am not an artist, I am a cobbler, " cries the prisoner.
"That makes no difference. You are a Christian. You
must know how to paint. Until you begin, you shall receive
twenty-five lashes every day ; but if you make us pretty pic-
tures, you shall have your freedom." Needless to say the
prisoner found keen inspiration in the blows, and rapidly pro-
duced a series of mural masterpieces, of which it is not too
great praise to say that they were painted with mnch. feel hig-.

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

Photograph by Neurdein Freres

The mysteri-
ous under-world
of Constantine in-
terests us more
than the city it-
self. Let us find
ourselves where
the unhappy slave
would certainly
have found him-
self had he re- T
fused to decorate
the palace walls
— in the bottom
of the terrible ra-
vine. We are
more than five
hundred feet be-
low the level of JS
the city streets
We are, if jou )i^'

I-A PLACli \ALI.KK

IN ST A NT INK

III]-. I; \Nk < M- ] HI-. K

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

will, in the great natural sewer of Constantine, in a subway
unlike that of any other city in the world. At our feet flows
the river Roummel, gliding like a silver snake through a
gigantic crack in the foundations of the city. Calmly it
enters the ravine, but ere it escapes it must writhe and fume
and leap as if in madness into still more frightful depths.
AVe may follow the stream in perfect safety, and watch its
struggles at our ease. A narrow })ath called le chojih? cfcs

THE RIVER ENTERS PEACEFULLY

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

).N THli CHEMIN UES TOIRISTES

ioun's/cs, recently created, enables man to follow the anj^ry
torrent throuj^hout nearly its entire course. The "road of
the tourists, is a narrow path that creeps along the face of
the rocky wall, now along ledges made by blasting out the
solid rock, now ascending or descending ladder-like stair-
ways, now crossing an ab^■ss by means of a frail metal
bridge, suspended from the overhanging cliff. I'p and down

lOO

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

it leads us, sometimes near enough to the waters for us to
feel the river's spray, sometimes high above the roaring"
stream, ^^'e almost forget the presence of a city above our
heads, the wild forbidding nature of the place belying the
proximity of the haunts of man. And in this underworld
we see no sight of life save the soaring vultures that circle
in this narrow crevasse in expectation of a feast, — a feast
that in the olden days was only too frequently one of human

THE " ROAD OK THE TOIRISTS'

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

lOI

HKNKAIH THE BRID(,E

Hesh. We read with a shudder of all the lives that have
been swallowed up by this deep gulf, — the criminals cast
from above, the unfaithful wives, the suicides, and the slaves
sewed in sacks by angry masters and relentlessly hurled into
the ravine. The maddened Roummel, red with human
blood, has borne from the sight of man those human wrecks
tlung from the brink. And as if to escape the horrors it has
witnessed here, it creeps beneath two natural bridges, the
broader of which is directly underlying the steel arch of El

I02

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

Kantara, and seems to engulf the rushing stream. That
natural arch formed the foundation for a Roman bridge,
arches of which are still in existence.

At another point we see a ruined pier belonging to
a second Roman bridge, long since a prey to time. The
little pathway of the tourists finally climbs a series of steep
zigzags, and brings us once more into the sunny world at
one extremity of the great bridge. Standing there, we may
by turning our eyes slowly from left to right take in a complete
panorama of the city, and thus obtain a clear idea of Con-
stantines indescribable situation. The depths from which we
have just escaped lie on our left. Structures, Arab and French,

ROMAN MASONRY

IHK NAllKAl. I'.KlDtiK

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

lO:

THE TARPEIAN' ROCK OF CONSTANTTN'F,

hang on the verge of the
cib\ss. Before us is the
bi idge, on this side the unique
access to this natural castle.
The section of the bridge
immediately communicating-
with the city gate is only a
temporary platform of tim-
ber that at a moment "s no-
tice may be swept away,
thus cutting off the approach
of an enemy. Above, the
barracks of the citadel crown
the citv, and at the same time mar its imposing effect, for
they are at best a group of ugly, factory-like constructions.
At our feet there slopes away the roof of a second broad
natural arch, beneath which flows on in darkness the mys-
terious river, soon to lose itself in the open valley revealed to
us between two gigantic cliffs that look like opposing bastions.
On the summit of the left-hand height we see a cluster
of small buildings pertaining to the citadel or kasbah. The

io6

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

ff of the kasbah formerly
erved as the Tarpeian
Rock of Constantine. We
told that frequently in
the old days two
nienvvould appear
there on the brink
in the dim light of
dawn. They al-
ways bore a heavy
burden. Putting
this down they
would balance up-
on the parapet a
long trough-like
chute. Upon this
they would place
their burden — a
heavy sack, a sack
that writhed and

THF KASKAH ciuF wrlthiug, gave

forth screams. The trough was then tipped slightly. The
squirming sack slipped swiftly — those who have witnessed
burials at sea know how rapidly that nameless thing de-
scended to the tenebrous depths. But this was no burial, it
was an execution. There was no merciful ocean there
below. There were only jagged rocks and cruel shallow
waves, which presently grew red as if in shame for the foul
deed committed by the men who meantime leaned far out
from the overhanging parapet, that they might see the end —
that they might tell the bey that the wife of whom he had
grown weary would trouble him no more. Remembering
these tales, it is with genuine aversion that we approach the
border of this stream, intent on crossing to the other bank

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

107

and climbing to the city by another path ; and to our aver-
sion dismay is added when we discover that the Httle planks
that spanned the stream have yielded to the tiood and left the
waters bridgeless. How to regain the city without retracing
our steps is a problem difficult to solve. I should be only
too happy to record here some heroic Leander-like pro-
ceeding, but we dared not swim the rapid stream. If we
imitated any classic character, it must have been poor old
Anchises who was carried out of Troy by young ^Eneas, but
that in our case an Arab Anchises carried the American
^neas upon his shoulders. Though far from deep the
stream was very turbulent, and its rapidity and force and
the proximity of sheer cascades not many yards below made
the moments spent on that old believer's back moments of
intense anxiety. And as if he knew my fears, this dilapi-
dated old human ferry-boat seemed purposely to prolr^ii;^

ABOVE THE FALLS

tlu- agony, slowly stumbling along, slipping at everv step,
and emitting with every breath a hoarse, deep gasp sug-
gesting that he was about to die of heart-disease. If my
decrepit bearer had grown weary and dropped me in the
tltjod, I sliould have been swept by the swift Roumiiiel down

io8

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

CASCADES IN THE RAVINE

the monumental stairway by which the river makes its
majestic exit from the gorge of Constantine. As we stand at
the foot of these cascades, the walls of Constantine appear
in all their impressiveness. They are the highest walls that
ever guarded city, for here they rise a thousand feet above
the plain ; but the}' were not built by human hands. Impreg-
nable is a word that seems to have been made to describe
this Wonder-City. And yet this word cannot be truthfully

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

log

applied to Constantine, for it has been besieged and taken
many times. Romans and Numidians, Turks, Arabs, and
Christians have in turn fought for the possession of this
natural fortress and obtained it. It is strange tliat a city
so strongly fortified by nature should have known so many
conquerors. But we rejoice that the last successful besiegers
fought for the cause of civilization under a Christian flag.

It was in 1836 that the French army first moved against
the rock-perched city. Defeat, however, awaited that first

'■»)?>'•

I lO

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

expedition. In i^^j ten thousand men were sent to retrieve
the honor of the arms of France. Five days were passed in
preparations -for assault. The inhabitants, having offered
prayers at Allah, made ready to defend their homes, their
wicked rulers, and their faith. The assault was dramatic.
The play of heavy ordnance first shattered the Arab fortiiica-

A BRIDGE IN I

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST iii

tions. A huge I
mass of masonn'
crumbled, and in
its fall buried a
company of gallant
Frenchmen, w h o
had advanced to
scale the walls. A
powder-magazine ex-
ploded, hurling int*
the air the terribl
mangled bodies of th

I 12

CITIES OF THE BARBARY COAST

besiegers and the besieged. The general in command of the
attacking force, Damremont, fell near the widening- breach
through \\ hich his men soon rushed into the captured city. A
hand-to-hand, house-to-house conflict then raged in the nar-
row streets. Barricades are thrown up, defended, taken,
and re-taken, until at last the Moslem forces are driven to the
citadel upon the summit of the rock. Then came the scenes
most pitiful of all. Scores of old men, and women with
their children, in a wild endeavor to escape, swung slender
ropes from the parapets of the kasbah, hoping" by this means
to reach the valley. But the ropes were both too slender
and too short. One parted, and its parting was answered
by a chorus of those screams that are never uttered by the
human voice but once. The others for a time sustained
their clusters of cling- ^., '• .^^mjie^ ^^^b- swinging victims,

but one by one the ^^|^^^^^Pl^^|^|^ hands relaxed their
grasp, and pres- , ^^^^^^^ ^^'^?^^^ ently the ropes
swung lightly, ^ ^ ^^^^^^Bl^^^v^^^ ^ idly, in the breeze.
Such ^^^H^^^^^^^^Hb. ^^^^ ^^ Moslem

authoritv in the ^I^^^^^^HI^^^^ citv of Constantine.

A Hl'MAN FKRRY

\SES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

iHAqa

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

ases o/ ti^e
Algerian
Sahara

THE CHARM of the desert and its mystery are as great
and as profound as the charm and the mystery of the
sea. Only the desert and the sea are changeless. They
alone refuse to accept the impress of human endeavor ; they
are to-day the same as when man first beheld them.

When once the desert has called us, it is impossible to
disobey her summons. In Algeria we heard the desert call-
ing, accordingly our next journey is to be desertward. We
are to cross the narrow fertile strip that lies along the Alge-
rian shore of the Mediterranean ; we are to penetrate the
Africa of the roving Uedouin and of the nomad Arab ; we

ii6

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

are to seek, far out upon the sandy wastes of the Sahara,
those pahii-embowered isles that bear the magic name
"Oases," — -a name that has haunted every one of us ever
since, as children, we spelled it out for the first time in our
geographies. Let us respond to the call of the desert.

Approaching the town of Bougie on the coast of Barbary
at a point about midway between the cities of Algiers and
Constantine, the traveler sees a savage mass of rock boldly
outlined against the sky like the silhouette of some gigantic
monster of the sea, some guardian dragon of the pirate

CAPE CARBON

shore. It is the promontory of Cape Carbon, a final spur of
the Atlas Mountains, extended seaward as if aspiring to the
proud position of a French Gibraltar. It cannot, however,
become a rival to Britain's famous rock, for although Cape
Carbon is no less a natural stronghold, the opposite shores
are hundreds of miles away, and the fleets of foes could sail
serenely past, far beyond the range of the greatest guns yet
made. This rugged coast was admirably adapted to the
needs of the old Corsairs of Barbary ; the scourges of
Christendom could not have built their robber nests on a

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

117

more advantageous shore. From rocky heights, jutting far
seaward, those birds of prey swept the waters with their
hungry gaze until some richly laden ship appeared on the
horizon ; then down they swooped. Out from the harbors,
sheltered by these natural fortifications, sped the galleys
manned usually by Christian slaves. Soon the prize would be
brought into the port, the cargo confiscated, the crew enslaved,
and the peaceful merchantman, refitted for the corsair serv-
ice, sent forth in turn to terrorize upon the seas. But a
civilization, such as it was, existed here. The French who
have recently crowned the rock with a signal station were not
the first to use the heliograph upon this coast. The Arabs,
who eight hundred years ago were masters of the little town
of Bougie, lying almost within the shadow of these cliffs,
knew how to flash commands and warnings by the aid of
polished surfaces and sunshine ; and they could telegraph at
night by means of lights and fires. All things conspired to
insure those Saracenic robbers long centuries of success and
of immunity from punishment. The dissensions of the Euro-
pean nations, the victims of the pirates, prevented concerted
action against them ; their rugged coast itself was a defense,
while an attack from the rear had ever
possible, for there nature had created an
impassable barrier, an untraversable
waste of leagues and leagues ---.^j^rf Vl
of desert sand.

been im-

rlll-; BOUGIK-SKTIK DILIGENCE

ii8

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

It is from Bougie that we set out next morning upon our
journey overland. I might ahiiost say from coast to coast,
for we are to travel southward from the Mediterranean shore
to the shore of the sandy sea beyond. We make the first
stages of our journey by dilig'ence, a picturesque, and in fine
weather not uncomfortable, mode of travel. We take our
places on the top of the lumbering vehicle, where we may

AFRICAN SNOW

enjoy the bracing morning air and look upon the glorious
scenes that in quick succession are to be unrolled to our
bewildered eyes. The first few miles of our progress are
mildly picturesque and thoroughly delightful, but later on the
scenery becomes magnificent. But that word "magnificent "
has been abused so sadly that it now inadequately expresses
the grandeur of the rock-bound pass into which we plunge
an hour later. Even at the entrance of the Gorges of

I.\ Tin; (.AJR(..I.S Ub' . IIABET

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

121

Chabet there is revealed to us a
promise of the greater things to
come. We are now about to pass
through a defile which pierces the
chain of the Atlas Mountains and
forms the connecting corridor, sev-
enteen miles in length, between
the fertile coast region called the
' ' Tell ' ' and the high plateaux
which lie between the coast range
and the Aures Mountains, which
form the northern boundary wall
of the Sahara. As we smoothly
roll along over a perfect road be-
hind our galloping four-in-
hand, we cannot realize
the difficulties which have
been met and overcome by
the French engineers to whose
courage and perseverance we owe the privilege of looking
upon these glorious pages of Nature's wonderbook, — pages
which thirty years ago were sealed to human gaze. Even
the sure-footed Arabs never attempted to
travel through this
forbidden corridor
until their supersti-
tious fears had been
shaken by the build-
ing of the road. No
longer do they fear
the pass ; in fact, an
Arab has performed
the incredible feat of
scaling the face of

A COLONIST
WHO IS NOT A GENTLEMAN

122 OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

one of the cone-
like cliffs and suc-
cessfully descend-
ing on the further
side, thus winning
a valuable prize
offered by the au-
thorities. As we
pass beneath the
vertical walls of
the cliff that was
scaled, we grow
dizzy in recalling
the temerity of
the man, for there
is apparently no
resting-place, no
foothold, — and
1 he rock is surely
more than seven
hundred feet in
height. Round-
ing another bend
we behold a mas-
sive bridge spanning the rushing river and transferring the
roadway from one bank to another. The stream, like a
living thing, struggles with the hindering boulders, filling
the cavernous depths with a harsh murmur that is echoed
from wall to wall until lost in the freedom of the upper air.
At every turn we look for an end of this seemingly intermin-
able rent, but every step in advance reveals a deepening of
the river-bed, a narrowing of the Chabet Carion, while the
mountain masses on either side rise higher and higher until
we feel that we have gone down to the very bottom of the

THE CLIFF THAT WAS SCAI.1;D

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

123

mountains. The road in some places runs four hundred feet
above the river ; but this is nothing, the heights on either
side rise thousands of feet above us. Although the summits
of the mountains are invisible, we are conscious of their tower-
ing presence. Swift clouds above are tossed from peak to
peak as in some pillow-battle of the giants. A sense of the
littleness of man is forced upon us. Then comes a consoling
conviction of the genius of man, for has he not opened a
pathway here, conquered Nature, imposed his will upon the
scowling rocks, and forced them to sustain in their rough
grasp this dainty ribbon of a road along which troops have
marched to conquer tribes as savage as the land itself ?

AN Al.l'INI-; ROAll IN AKKICA

124

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

Surely it is a privilege to look on scenes like this. But
inspiring" as it was in reality, I dare not further attempt
to make you share in my enthusiasm, for I am but too con-
scious that both words and pictures must of necessity fail to
reveal the full majesty of the Gorges of Chabet. Suffice it to
say that at last we reach the middle region of Algeria, — the
high plateaux, — where we are welcomed by the whistle of the
locomotive, and hear the rumble of the train that is to bear
us east and southward toward the gates of the great desert.
The high plateaux are singularly unattractive ; they are with-
out the verdure
and variety of the
coast region, and
they have not the
barren impres-
siveness, the mys-
terious monotony
of the Sahara.
Yet the region is
not devoid of in-
terest, as we were
forced to admit
after our visit to
Ham man Mes-
koutine, where we
seeone of the most
beautiful natural
marvels of Al-
geria. Waters,
seething hot, con-
stantly welling up
from the depths of
the earth, have in
the long course of

'APPARKNTI.Y NO KND AND NO ESCAPE

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

125

years builded a
structure and
then covered it
over with a deli-
cate enamel
which reflects in
ever-varying tints
the rays of bril-
hant sunlight.
We seem to look
on a frozen water-
fall, yet from it
rise great clouds
of steam; and
while we feast our
eyes upon this
seeming miracle
of frostwork, the
high temperature
of the atmosphere
enveloping us
renders it d i ffi-
cult to reconcile the contradictory evidences of our senses.
The Arabs have named these ' ' The Accursed Springs.
They tell us that once upon a time a certain rich and power-
ful chieftain, finding no man worthy of his sister "s heavenly
beauty, decided to espouse her himself. To the objections
of his elders he replied by chopping off their heads, and was
about to begin the wedding ceremon}^ when suddenly there
came a terrible trembling of the earth, which opened as lire
and water poured forth. Then instantly, the participants in
the sinful ceremony were petrified upon the spot. Three
crusty cones represent all that is left of the unhappy couple
and the priest ; and guests, also transformed into volcanic

LIKE A STEAMING GLACIER

126 OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

TINTED TERRACES OF HAMMA.M MESKOUTINE

heaps, stand here and there awaiting, forever, the conclusion
of the ceremony. Near by we find Roman baths cut in the
natural rock. This reminds us that Rome once held this
region as firmly does France to-day. Nay, more firmly ; for
whereas France possesses great cities on
the coast, Rome built her cities in
the far interior. Three of those
cities we visited, and found
none in better state of preser-
vation and more carefully
excavated than Thamugas,
known to-day as Timgad.
It merits well the title,
"The Pompeii of Africa,"
although the sands of time,
not the ashes of \'esuvius

TIIK PKTRIFIKD PRIEST

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

129

have been its shroud. Its position at the intersection of six
Roman highroads rendered it a post of great importance ; and
garrisoned as it was by the famous Thirtieth Legion, it held
in awe the whole province, and travelers going down into
the desert were assured of safety. The desert is not far dis-
tant, and the surrounding lands suggest, by their bare, cheer-
less aspect, the proximity of burning sands. A great loneli-
ness pervades the city and the valleys through which we have
made our way to reach it, and as we sit at luncheon, on what
was once the most animated square of Timgad, our conversa-
tion turns upon the desolation of the region. Once thickly

Tllli DILIGENCK IN THU DICPTHS

i^o

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

populated and profitably cultivated, it now presents no signs
of human life or of fertility. The neighboring desert, though
shut off from it by the Aures Mountains, seems by some mys-
terious influence to be gradually possessing itself of this poor
heritage of Rome. An Arab guardian is the sole inhabitant.
For him alone the imposing triumphal arch spans Timgad's
most important thorough- ^h fare; to him disfigured Ro-
man gods and goddesses ^B speak of a glorious past in
which his race ^^^i^v^^K *^*^^ita^ has taken no

AN AFRICAN POMPEII

part ; for him alone exists the ruined theater, once the
pride and center of Timgad's social life. What builders they
were, those sturdy Romans ! The ruins of their structures
will outlive the stucco cities of to-day to which France so
proudly points. And when we remember that in Roman days
there were no railroads to annihilate space, we gain a true
conception of the force and perseverance displayed by the
founders of this series of military cities, so far from the sea»

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA 131

in the midst of a barbarous people, in a waterless and treeless
land. Algeria is indeed treeless, for between the gardens
near the coast and the palm-trees of the Saharan oases, trees
are so rare that a group of twenty is called a ' ' forest. ' ' We
are, however, nearing the southern boundary of the high
plateaux, so featureless, so uninviting, and from the window
of a railway carriage out of which we have been peering

A THKATKR NEAR THE EDGE OF THE SAHARA

eagerly, we are at last rewarded by a glimpse of another
world. An opening in the mountain wall has come in view,
the gates of the desert have opened before us. A paradox-
ical vista greets us ; for though we are looking southward
into the Saharan region, we behold a distant mass of freshest
green, while behind us stretch away the desolate plains and
valleys through which we have journeyed southward. This
gorge is well named " The Gate of the Desert," for it gives
access to a wonderland of sand and sun. Through it rush the

132

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

Ki:.*

'v-*^,, J-^l

1^=^.

river, the highway, and the railroad, tiirninj^, twistinf^, and
crossing one another in their haste to reach that patch of
green, the first oasis of the Algerian Sahara. We dash
between the two great cliffs, and as the train circles around
the verdure-hidden village of El Kantara, we feast our
eyes on the welcome freshness of the palms, above whose
wavy tops tower the mighty pillars of the
desert 's portal. There stand ^tfft^ at the
very entrance to the burning"
region fifteen thousand date-
palms, as if to reassure
the traveler, to
tell him of the
other tiny
dots of fer-
tility far out
across the
sands, to as

ONCK A BUSY ROMAN CROSS-ROAUS

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

13.

sure him of food and sheltering shade during his pilgrimage
toward the equator. That such assurance is most welcome
you will admit when, after winding through barren valleys,
between naked mountain ranges, the train emerges at last
from the southern foot-hills, and we gain our first view
of that sandy sea that rolls in all its vastness between Algeria
and the Sudan. It is not like the desert we have always
pictured to ourselves ; we feel a sense of

GODDliSSIiS AND GLOBE-TROTTERS

disappointment. We are, however, only on the borderland ;
tliere below us are the deep traces cut by the watercourses
from the mountains ; we must go farther south to find true
desert wastes. But you will ask, "How shall we travel out
upon this endless plain ? ' ' We almost forget that no camel
and no caravan are necessary yet, that we may still roll on
in railway cars for forty miles. We simply abandon ourselves
to our book of tourist-coupons, the fmal page of which bears

136

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

ALMOST A DUSEKI

the attractive name of Biskra, and into Biskra we are
whirled two hours later.

Biskra, the Mecca of both the Moslem and the Christian
nomad — the Monte Carlo of the desert — in a word the
Oasis of Pleasure and of Fashion ! Biskra, above whose
white-washed houses wave the feathery branches of a hun-
dred thousand palm-trees. Biskra the beautiful !

Biskra was in_i894 the terminus of the Saharan railway,
which, ^^ ""^^^ however, now penetrates far deeper

into the dark continent. Bis-
kra already boasted a Euro-
pean quarter, of which the
shops, hotels, and public
buildings seemed as
strangely out of place
in the desert as did
the hideous railway sta-
tion itself.

Upon our arrival we

make all haste to the

hotel, for crowds of

tourists have come with

us, and at the time of

our visit Biskra was not

prepared to house as many

visitors as she is to-day.

Reaching- the caravansary we

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

139

lat it is as we suspected, —
lere are no rooms reserved for
despite our pleading tele-
grams. We try the other
houses, but in vain ; we
look disconsolately upon
the two new hotels, mag-
nificent but unfinished,
whose walls are rising
slowly as the lazy laborers
pile one sun-dried brick
jpon another, and then we
turn to accept the landlord's
ultimatum, the terms of which are
after all not harsh. We get one
end of a hallway, a mattress upon the floor, two chairs, a
bowl and a pitcher, and a curtain to screen us from the
public gaze. Later arrivals are put to bed on tables after

LODGINGS FOR LATE-COMERS

NKW HISKKA IN I

I40

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

table d'hote. But
the next day good
rooms are given
us, and the small
discomforts of ar-
rival are forgot-
ten. One pretty
feature of the ho-
tel is its garden,
where we dis-
cover a num-
ber of very
graceful little
animals called

GAZELLES

Photograpli by Emile Freclion

IHh. RACK FOR COPPERS

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

143

•x-;-^

gazelles — slender of limb and mild of
eye. Tame and obedient as pets, we
think they are such, until at dinner,
we make a horrible discovery.
Declaring most delicious a cer-
tain course of the table d ' hote,
we ask the waiter what it is,
and when he answers, ''g'ci-
2 die sail tee a la Biskra, " a
sadness fills our souls. When
we count the little animals
again, we find that one is miss-
ing. The gentleness of these ga-
zelles is in delightful contrast to the

REAL STREET ARABS

boisterous behav-
ior of Biskra's
unwashed street
urchins. Groups
of ragged young-
sters dog our foot-
steps, crying for

m; I ii N ' 'I' III

144

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

OFF AGAIN !

pennies ; and when the demanded coppers are tossed them,
there ensues a scramble which promises a brilHant future for
the ^ame of football should the natives ever take it up.
Girls and boys alike exhibit wonderful endurance, and on
one occasion two little chaps followed our carriage at a run
for over fifteen minutes, gasping with every breath " U)i
son, M' sieu\ M'damc f" unfortunately in vain, for we
have not a single copper, and the rascals would not believe
us when we told them so. To escape this barbarian horde,
we take refuge in the lovely gardens of the Chateau Landon,
the estate of a wealthy French count, who in his absence
kindly permits foreigners to roam at will through his little
paradise. Here trees and shrubs and flowers from all climes
are cultivated, and the walks are so immaculately raked and
swept that it seems sacrilege to tread upon them.

Biskra's luxuriant vegetation is due to an abundant
water-supply from artesian wells and from the Biskra River,

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

147

a broad and shallow stream which farther south is swallowed
by the thirsty sands. When weary of dreaming in the
garden, we may take a spin in the horse-car of Biskra, for
this unique oasis is not without its progressive institutions.
But the rails are very badly laid, and every few hundred rods
there comes a lurch, followed by a suggestion of an earth-
quake, whereupon the French conductor politely requests
the passengers to assist in replacing the car upon the rails.
Thus a street-car ride, which with us is a passive enjoyment,
becomes to the Biskran an excellent form of training for
both nerve and muscle. Although not always thrown out
by these frequent accidents, in fright we nearly jump out of
the moving car, as, having passed the limits of the oasis,
we behold close to the track upon a hillock a sight which
makes our blood run cold — a gigantic lion, crouching as if
about to spring. My friend feels for his revolver ; I look
despairingly at the distant palm-trees ; the other passengers
sit motionless, their faces expressive only of calm interest.

l>lw.t„^r.,|>l. by J

AN ALGERIAN STREET

148

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

We begin to doubt the excitability of the French. The car
is brought to a standstill. With a painfully deliberate slow-
ness a man in hunting costume takes a gun from beneath the
seat. This reassures us ; but why does he not make haste
to shoot .'' W^iy does he wait for that fool of a photog-
rapher who is setting up his tripod in the face of such a

FRUITS AND VEGETAIiLKS

danger.' In wonder we await the denouement. The man
draws near with superhuman coolness ; the huge beast,
daunted, bows his head. The hunter stands over him in a
pose of victory. The photographic artist — a veritable hero
— then secures proofs of the courage of the lion tamer. And
then at last the truth breaks in upon us as two poor Arabs

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

151

appear, calmly tie a rope around the lion's neck, and serenely
lead away the desert king. The poor old beast is blind and
tame and harmless. His keepers make a living by renting
him to amateur photographers or to ambitious sportsmen
desirous of sending home convincing ' * proofs ' ' of their
prowess in hunting the fierce Numidian lion. We could
have been made heroes ourselves for the sum of ten francs
each, cash down. The natives willingly pay a few pennies
for the privilege of jumping over the harmless beast, be-
lieving that such exercise will make them brave and lion-
hearted. Returning from this amusing excursion, we reach
the market-place of Biskra at the moment most propitious.
We find it thronged with stately Arabs, whose lofty dignity
accords but ill with their prosaic callings and pursuits.
Biskra is ^^^^^mm^^^^^^ the metropolis of the region,
and ^^^^^ ^^^^^ her daily market is fre-

quented by the in-
habitants of many
oases, who come
to sell camels
and dates, to

152

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

BARTERING FOR BLADES

buy sheep and donkeys, grain and vegetables, or to supply
themselves with foreign luxuries for their women, left in
some distant village. Strange to say, the calicoes and cot-
tons, of which vast quantities are purchased here, are not
from the factories of France, for every bale is marked in
large plain letters ''MANCHESTER." France sheds her
blood, conquers barbarous countries, and England then steps
in and reaps the profit. But as we now enter the inner
market-place, we observe that although the dealings are
collectively important, they are individually tiny to a rare
degree. The infinite smallness of some transactions defies
description. For five centimes the frugal Arab buys dates
enough to constitute his midday meal ; oats are sold by the
handful, wheat is dealt out in pinches; — men gain a living by
a daily commerce unworthy elsewhere the time and labor of
a fly. In comparison with these retailers of atoms, the bread
merchant with a score of loaves on sale becomes a magnate

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

of the first importance. In the
meat-market we learn what
becomes of the camels that
have grown too old to
work. The situation is
reversed in favor of the
camel, for the camel no
longer carries the Arab ;
instead the Arab carries
off the camel, which has
been carefully divided to
suit the not too fastidious
purchaser.

Later in the day we
enter the street of Ouled
Nayels, or Almees, a tribe
of dancing girls without a men-
tion of which a description of Biskra would be incomplete.

KEEN BARGAINERS

STKEKT OK THE OULED NAVELS

156 OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

By permission

Ol'LED NAMil.S I.N lilSKRA

The Ouled Nayels coming from other oases in the far south
or from remote villages of the plateaux enjoy a freedom denied
to the women of more thoroughly Mohammedanized regions.
They refuse to veil their faces, although they invariably turn
them away when threatened by the camera, often to the
advantage of the latter, for the faces of the older specimens
would test the endurance of the strongest make of apparatus.
We examine with interest the curious jewelry with which
these desert damsels deck themselves.

Many wear suspended from the neck a little fortune in
coins, a breast-plate formed of lonis if or, English sover-
eigns and other golden coins. My friend examining the col-
lections discovers a gold eagle from the United States.
''Mais oui. Monsieur, ' replied the damsel, ''j'etais a V
JExposition de Chicag'o/' She danced in the Algerian
Theater on the Midway. Nor was this the only echo of the

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

157

fair to reach our ears, for as we strolled up and down the
Almees" street in the wake of three superb members of the
native cavalry corps — " Spahis " as they are called — we
were greeted from a doorway with, " How do you do, Ameri-
can gentlemen ? Come see this shop to-day ; we going back
America to-morrow with new stock of goods. We catch so
much money in Chicago. " We entered and enjoyed a chat
with two intelligent young Arabs who had picked up a little
fortune at a tiny kiosk under the shadow of the Ferris Wheel.
Toward evening, when cool shadows creep into the scorched
and thirsty streets of this quarter, the Ouled Navels are seen

IN I 1 1 K N A I I \' 1

158

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

CAFE ARABE

decked in their
most georgeous
finery, awaiting
the opening of the
Arab cafes. The
chief attraction is
their dancing for
both the weary
camel-driver just
arrived from Su-
dan and for the
proper EngHsh
family who have
run down from Algiers for a day or two to get a glimpse of
desert life. Some of these women are even queenly in
appearance, others hideous beyond description. When at
last night closes in, the narrow streets become most weirdly
animated. We glance in now and then at the doorways of
the smoking-dens where dozens of Arabs lie, lulled into
a state of semi-dreamfulness by the fumes of " keef " or
hashish, which for the moment drives away all weariness
and care, but ever more firmly binds its willing victims.
Darkness and silence pervade these ^— — ~««^,. dens,

while from the doors of the
cafes pour floods of ligh
snatches of unearthly
music, clouds of thick >
tobacco smoke and
the aroma of deli-
cious coffee. When
we enter one of these
overcrowded cafes, we
are at first dazed by the
sights and sounds th

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

159

greet us ; but as our eyes become accustomed to the atmos-
phere, so full of smoke and dust, we begin to gain a vague
idea of the interior. A deafening, ear-splitting, roof-rending
symphony is being executed by the most energetic Arabs we
have ever seen ; an athletic orchestra, whose frantic hang-
ings of tambourines and whose cheek-bursting blowings into
shrill flutes, lead one to doubt that its members are of the
same race as the listeners, — those calm shrouded figures
serenely reposing on the wooden shelves around the walls,
looking for all the world like a museum of mummies partially

*h^»i,„|il

THE CASINO IN CONSTRUCTION

unwrapped. Their eyes are fixed with a vague stare upon
the dancing Almee. For hours this continues ; the dancers
change, but the musicians thunder on, while with empty
eyes and bodies motionless the Arab auditors sit as if en-
tranced. To us, however, be the credit for having roused
them from their lethargy, — a flash-light cartridge did the
work. The superstitious customers fled from the deadly
brilliancy and rolling clouds of smoke until the place was
nearly empty. Then the proprietor demanded redress for
his losses, the guests having departed without settling their
accounts. Willingly do we hand over the price of thirty

i6o

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

cups of coffee at
two cents per cup.
Surely it is but a
trifle in return for
a picture that is
unique.

But these na-
tive cafes are now
doomed to give
place to a more
ambitious amuse-
ment enterprise,
the Casino of Bis-
kra, which at the
time of our visit
was nearing com-
pletion and is now
the center of Bis-
kran gaiety. In
this

OUR VALET DE PLACE

casino European visit-
ors assemble to listen
to European music,
to watch the native
dancers on a Euro-
pean stage, and to play \
at European games of
chance. Nor are the
Arabs excluded. It is curi-
ous if not an edifying thing
to see an Arab Raid in full

RETURNING FROM A SHOPPING TOUR

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

i6t

regalia enter the gaming rooms, take ;
the bank at the baccarat table for a
thousand francs and proceed to deal
the cards. Too much, alas, has been
done to continentalize this beau-
tiful oasis, but many years
must elapse before the charm
of Biskra shall have entirely
evaporated in this atmosphere
of superficial civili
zation.^^^^

tables and come out into a sunny square
where the gaunt, ugly camels are reposing after a
journey in the desert. Here every day arrive the caravans
from the far south ; here is the terminus of the desert routes
from the Sudan and Timbuctu. Some of those caravans
began their journeys six long months ago. Yes, as we turn
into the road which leads southward from the oasis, we realize
that we are indeed upon the very edge of civilization.

SHIPS OF THE DESERT IN PORT

With relief we turn from the green

THH SAHARA I.IMITKD

l62

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

Beyond us lie regions about which our conceptions are
most vague. If we ask whence come these caravans and
whence the hardy native soldiers, the answer is, "From
\\'argla " or, "From Touggourt. " Looking in an atlas we
may find such names printed far down on the map of Africa,
where the yellow ink tells of the presence of the Great

-^^^,:

VIEUX BISKRA

Sahara. Wargla and Touggourt are the most important oases
vet occupied by France in the extreme south, and the tales
we hear of those far-off desert-cities inflame us with an
irresistible desire to visit at least one of them. We make
inquiries as to the facilities for travel in the desert — the
distance to Touggourt, the roads, the means of transport, and

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

163

the time that such an expedition
would require.

We learn that between
Biskra and Touggourt lie
about one hundred and
fifty miles of sandy
nothingness; that
there is no road, only
an ever-shifting trail ;
that to reach Toug-
gourt on horseback
without relays would re-
quire a week, on camel-
back much longer ; for ordi
nary camels are slower than horses,
and racing camels or mehari cannot ^il^w

ALLS AND PALM-TREES

STREET OF Ol 1>

164

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

be obtained at this season. But there is, they tell us, a
quicker way. Every third morning the desert-mail leaves
Biskra in a two-seated, three-horse wagon, a sort of desert
diligence, which, thanks to eight relays of horses, accom-
plishes the journey in two long days of sixteen hours each.
To be sure, a wagon journey in the desert does not appeal
to us, — it seems so shockingly prosaic. But a glimpse of one
of the streets of native Biskra, so strangely beautiful, intensi-
fies our interest in that other oasis — so far away — which
must be even more strange, more African than anything in
Biskra. And we resolve to go down 'deeper in the desert — •
to cross the sands in a four-wheeled
ship. We make arrangements

STREETS AND
STRUCTURES OF
HE SAME MATERIAL

i^- ■ '^ 12:

■^

VV.\ I HI- R Ursl hKS IN A
DlSl Y LAND

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

107

with the authori-
ties of the postal-
service to carry
us to Touggourt,
allow us two days
there, and bring
us back to Biskra,
all within the
week. We hope
to ti n d strange
things out there
upon the desert,
but surely no-
where shall we
hnd more lovely
scenes, more pas-
sively beautiful
pictures, than
those presented
by these Biskran byways into which we turn as we retrace
our steps toward the French quarter. Why suffer the dis-
comforts and fatigue of a journey in the desert, you may ask,

HENCE STARTS THE SAHARAN LIMITED MAIL

fv-zc-r-- -.ii^z

r--gig7r>.nto;:ii-5gat'n»uK^.-i>T r'iwtww

1 Hli .NOKIII SIlONl. I)] JIIJ. SANDY SliA

i68 OASES OF THK ALGERIAN SAHARA

when in a ten-minute stroll wi
may lose ourselves in this
city of mud walls and
towering palm-trees,
this dream-city so
silently impressive ?
Its very coloring is
reposeful ; the glare
of whitewashed
walls is wanting, and
all is in tender greens
and restful browns and
yellows. True ; but the love
of the unknown, the desire for the road that goes down to the desert
the unexpected, and the fever for novelty that is the torment
of every traveler bid us leave Biskra and its comforts and
seek more vivid impressions of desert life in regions where
the telegraph and railway are not known. Accordingly we
make our final preparations and retire early, for the courier
wagon starts at three o'clock in the morning to profit by the
coolness of the early hours. How unearthly was that
departure of two half-awakened travelers, who in the silence
of ^..Ktfss'-J'J"**™*™*!**^^ the desert night were whirled

away from Biskra as from a
final outpost of civiliza-
tion into the unknown!
When really awake to
their surroundings,
they find themselves
far out upon the vast
desert, where hour
after hour three mis-
erable animals drag the
lumbering vehicle along

SOUTHWARD BOUND

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

169

the sandy trail, traced by former passings of the same clumsy
conveyance. The driver, a rude Frenchman, converses in a
guttural patois with the two Arab passengers who sit beside
him, or shouts at his team, encouraging them with cries like
those which savages might utter. Our fellow-passengers,
reserved and proud like all their race, content themselves by
rudely nodding at us. A vague apprehension soon takes
possession of us. Already Biskra seems more than a thousand
miles away. Even the arrival of the dawn does not raise our

WHAT WE SEE ALL DAY

spirits. To our surprise a cold biting wind springs up with
the appearance of the sun. "Oh, what a cheerful expedi-
tion ! ' ' sighs my friend ; ' ' why did we start .'' ' ' and I from
the bottom of my chilled and cheerless soul echo his ques-
tion. The harsh bells upon the horses' collars play an ear-
racking, jangling music ; now and then Arabs on foot, bound
for Biskra, Hit by like specters, while the vista on which we
look out, though ever changing, remains ever the same : a
waste of sand, here dotted with tiny chunps of sage brush,

I TO OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

■WMIiMM illiilliiilMiiimillliili IUJI

SHIPWRECKED IN THE SAHARA

there broken by little hillocks that look like nameless graves.
* ' And we are to endure four days of this, ' ' sighs my friend ;

PATCHING UP THE DIFFICULTY

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

171

"four days absolutely devoid of

f. incident! " but this mournful

jBP;^ ^ complaint is cut short by

'WMMJ^^^K9f^m-f ^'^ incident which literally

^i J^sM' ^. . '^■'^ dial relations with our com-

' \ / X panions. An unusually deep

rut is the cause of the catas-
trophe ; the rear wheels, with a
A SUNSHADE IN THE SAHARA dcspalriug crealc, announce their inten-
tion of resting in the rut, while the front wheels and horses.

with a praiseworthy
Touggourt, con
Something
and give it
ing us for-
the necks
startled
and un-
niousl y
the driver
into the
set to won
minutes of
by some passing
to repair the break
straps. Then our desert ship pro-
ceeds. At every jog we. ex-
pect a repetition of
the accident, but
fortunately the
wagon holds
together, and
we gradually for-

WAI.KING AND TALKING

ambition to get to
tinue to advance,
has to give,
does, pitch-
ward onto
of the
Arabs,
ceremo-
dumping
head- first
sand. We
fter a few
', and aided
travelers manage
with ropes and with

-aiiy?*;"

■ KIJADSIDK lAVEKN

172

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

NORTHWAKIl I!(Jl ND 1

IHE Sl'MMER

get that our arrival in Touggourt on time depends upon the
durabihty of a yard of rotten rope and a leather strap. We
have now commenced an acquaintance with our two grave
companions, and, with the driver as interpreter, carry on a
very labored conversation, for unlike the city Arabs these do
not speak the language of their conquerors.

At the request of the driver we frequently get out to
lighten the wagon when the trail traverses stretches of un-
usually heavy sand. The elder of our fellow-travelers seems
to take a liking to me. He does not speak a word of
French ; my knowledge of Arabic is limited to seven words,
but conversation never languishes. Mr. Lakdar ben Mamar
rattles on in Arabic ; I reply in English, both enjoying im-
mensely this interchange of thoughts. At any rate it is far
better than keeping silence in this oppressive desert that
seems like a dead ocean without a wave — without a mur-

mur. I learn that
table patriarch in
is a wealthy money-
lender, and that he
is on his wav to
Touggourt
to look after
his investments

this old gentleman, a veri-
bearing, ^ ^Jk,

tits. ^^Hk

i^iimamt"

A DATE-SHIP AWAITING CARGO

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

173

The younger man, his eldest son, treats him with the utmost
deference. "How rich is he?" I ask the driver. "Oh!
very wealthy for a native ; he must have at least 10,000
francs." Two thousand dollars! And we redouble our
attentions to this desert Rothschild, and even go so far as
to offer him a glass of our precious champagne, of which
only one pint remains ; certain that, being a Moslem, he will
not dare accept. But alas ! his courtesy overruled his prin-

ciples, although thereafter he prayed long and fervently
during every halt, bowing repeatedly toward Mecca.

Often throughout the day the painful sameness of our
progress is relieved by the passing of some desert express
composed of a train of Saharan sleeping-cars in which travel
the veiled beauties of some kaid or agha, some chief of a
nomad tribe. At the approach of sunnner the tribes inhabit-
ing the oases make their way northward to the pastures on
the high plateaux to escape the intense heat. Then Biskra

1/4

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

witnesses the passing of an entire people, — the women,
children, tents, and all their belongings borne on the backs
of thirty thousand camels. Every year, on the appointed
day in June, this huge confederation of the Algerian Sahara

rises up as one man, and with its horses, its loaded camels,
its donkeys, its women, and its dogs commences a migration
like those grand displacements of an entire population of
which we read in ancient history.

Caravan after caravan files past the kaid of Biskra and
wends its way through the gates of the desert and up to the
cooler lands north of the Aures Mountains. There they
find pasture for their animals, for although during the greater
part of the year the camel is assured of ample nourishment
from the dry tufts of dusty green that appear like a sparse
incipient beard on the bald face of the Sahara, there comes
a time when even the marvelous chemistry of the camel's
stomach cannot resolve dry brush into that flesh and blood

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

175

and strength on which the Arab owner makes such extrava-
gant demands. The fact that these poor sad-faced brutes
can travel thirty miles a day and carry loads weighing eight
hundred pounds, and do it on such food as they can find
en route, seems little short of marvelous. Moreover, the
camel carries his own supply of water and provisions with
him. He has been known to travel fifty miles a day for
five successive days without drinking. His hump, we know,
is not put on for picturesqueness' sake; it is the camel's
luncheon basket ! When on long journeys food cannot be
had, he simply lives on his own hump by a mysterious process
of absorption, reaching his destination with a liat, humpless
back and a contented stomach. And even a dead camel is

rich in possibilities. His

hide makes splendid

leather; his coarser

hair is woven into cloth

SciAKlK IN srNSHINE

176

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

for tents and garments ; the finer quality, exported, comes
to us in the form of dainty brushes ; his flesh, they say, is
just as good as beef, and his hump is famous as a gastro-
nomic luxury. His bones only are disdained and left to float
like wreckage on this yellow sea. Verily, the camel is a
useful quadruped, meriting a happier fate !

As the sun mounts higher in the cloudless sky, the heat
becomes intense. A flood of light submerges everything.

LAKE MELRHIR

Above us rolls an incandescent globe, scorching the atmos-
phere. Some one has said that "the sun is sovereign of
these solitudes : a wandering sultan who will tolerate no life
along his path, who devours the air and the clouds and the
earth, and then when this monarch has destroyed all reali-
ties, he creates illusions to torment the traveler. ' ' A mirage
is ever present on the horizon ; lakes and mountains, groves
of palms, form and dissolve as if nature were conducting
a stereopticon lecture with the surface of the desert for a

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

177

screen. We see, how-
ever, one expanse of
water that is no
mirage ; it is the
Shott, or Lake,
Melrhir, a shallow
salty sea, two hun-
dred miles in length,
and at certain seasons
less than three inches
™"''''' deep. Its bottom is of

brackish mud, and emits an odor resembling that of garlic,
due, we are told, to the presence of bromides in the stagnant
mass. It is one of a series of similar lakes that stretches
away eastward into the regency of Tunis. The French have
proposed to flood this region, which lies below the level of the
sea, by cutting a canal from the Gulf of Gabes and thus create
an inland sea in the Sahara ; but its extent would not be great,
and its utility would be most doubtful.

We skirt for some miles the muddy shores of Shott
Melrhir, then reach dry sand again, and finally halt for the
night at the half-way station, where the realities of desert
life again assert themselves. Unpromising indeed is this
wayside restaurant in the Sahara. The advertisement of the
establishment should read, "You bring the dinner, we do
the rest." But fortunately we have brought a chicken —
whose bones we leave to bleach upon the sand. The name
of this place looks very simple
when printed in black
and white, but on
being uttered by
the natives with the
correct Arabic pro-
nunciation, it struck us
12

TO MORROW

178

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

as something a little beyond our powers.
It is written " M raier, " and the unin-
itiated call it simply ' ' Mariar, ' ' but
in the deep throats of our traveling
companions it becomes a sort of
choking gasp, overtaken by a
death rattle and smothered in a
sand storm. To give you an idea
of how it sounds on Arab lips, I
can only say that if, as scientists
asse-rt, sounds can be photographed,
the portrait of the name of this sand-
surrounded hamlet would look not unlike
the accompanying picture of the sole
female inhabitant of the place.

" At last we find her!" proclaims my friend. "It is
she who, of all womankind, was born to ' blush unseen and
waste her sweetness on the desert air ! ' " And again after a

BORN 1 O BLUSH UNSEEN

l.L.MoMCw s 1\ 1111.. DESERT

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA i8i

second look, "No wonder that her

husband feels compelled to live

^^^ here, he must need lots of sand.

A A fyi^^l Next day we again begin

M ^ 'fl'wlit'^ ' '^^^ journey at that unearthly

■' "" hour, 3 A. M. I need not say

that slumber came easily to us

the night before ; that sixteen long

hours of travel under a burning sun

THE CHILL HOUR OF SUNRISE ^^^ produccd Si wcarlness which soon

sent us to the land of dreams, — a land far less fantastic than

the real world about us. Nor is it easy to shake off our

weariness hours before the dawn. Yet at the first call we

resolutely rise ; all drowsiness fled before the awful fear of

being left in such a place as " M'raier. "

In the cold, still night, preparations for the start are
quickly made. Two soldiers stationed at this place assist
the driver ; our Arab companions crouch silently against the
wall ; in the distance are two camels looking like belated
ships far out from shore. But who can put in words the
weirdness of those early morning hours, — the unearthliness
of the sleeping desert ? Who can describe the solemnity of
the Saharan sunrise ? First comes a palish, pinkish glimmer
in the east, that grows and grows until the morning-star is
touched by it, and at the touch expires ; quickly the vapors
gather, clouds come hurrying from some mysterious nowhere
to meet at the horizon the blood-red monarch of the sky.
For the space of an hour or more
they restrain his violence and
retard the coming of his
fury upon the earth, where

for a space coolness, nay, i^UHvES^K ^!iHK: 'V

even actual cold, prevails. ^.^^^^m^^^^^r^ 11

But presently we who a

A Mil I I AkV rONVOY

1 82 OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

few moments since were suffering from cold begin to feel the
heat waves rising from the sands to meet the flood of heat
descending from on high. A little later and we are being
grilled between two fires. In our day-dreams we imagine
ourselves plants, gasping in a stilling hothouse, — a hothouse
where the temperature is rising steadily and from which there
is no escape. But ere this daily nightmare overtakes us, we
pass, soon after sunrise, other travelers who like us are for-
eigners to this strange land. It is not a love of travel nor the
promptings of curiosity that lead these men into the depths
of Algeria. Stern duty drives, and many are the lonely,

CHANGING HORSES

homesick lads who spend the fairest years of youth convoying
military stores from fort to fort or garrisoning some God-for-
saken almost man-forsaken island of this sandy sea. Yet these
military trains represent the march of civilization and of
progress. Needless to say the troops are French.

An hour later there files solemnly past a caravan of camels
"bearing the materials for the construction of a European
building, doors, windows, roof, and flooring ready fashioned,
to be fitted together on arrival at Wargla or some remoter
post. This reminds us that France is httle by little intro-
ducing new things to the desert people and teaching them

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

183

A WAYSIDE INN "

valuable lessons of
all kinds. True,
these nomads of
the Sahara have
been very balky
scholars, and
many are the
severe and even

cruel chastisements to which their
mistress has subjected them, — her
conscience clear like that of a mother punishing rebellious
children for their own future good. The camels of another
caravan northward bound are freighted with huge sacks of
dates ; and dates, we know, are the wealth of Sahara. With-
out the date-palm, life in Sahara would be almost impossible ;
without the date-palm the commerce of the Algerian desert
would amount to nothing ; there would be no need for these
long caravans, the occupation of the Arab and the camel
would be gone. But the culture of the date-palm is, and will
long remain, the most important interest of both the native
and the colonist. This traffic in dates has assumed propor-
tions that are surprising to the traveler. We meet every day
dozens of similar caravans, and every one is bearing tons of
dates to Biskra. Our route lies through one of the most

F.I'ROPKAN HOL'StS VOK. rilK SAIIAKAN WII.DPrRNESS

1 84

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

DOZENS OF DATE-LADEN CAMELS

interesting date-producing regions of Algeria through a chain
of oases known as the Oases of Oued Rirh, — islands of
emerald in a sea of yellow sand, — dots of fertility in the
valley of that celebrated river, the Oued Rirh. But you
exclaim, "We see no river!" Nor is this strange. The
river Rirh is not like other rivers. It is a river possessed of
almost human cunning. Just as the Moors in Morocco hide
their treasures in the earth lest they excite the cupidity of
their sultan and invite a confiscation of their fortunes, so the
Oued Rirh, knowing that the sun, the sultan of the desert, is
thirstms: for ^^^^^^^^^^^^"^*^*^^^^ her treasure,

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA 187

dares not spread out her precious waters before his annihila-
ting glance ; instead, she hides them carefully beneath the
sands. Far below the parched surface of the desert she has
hollowed out an endless treasure cave, through which her
silver waters safely glide. But to the poor dwellers in this
thirsty land she has whispered her secret ; they have been
permitted to dig wells, to tap the precious liood and thus pre-
serve their oases, their palm-trees, and their lives. It has,
however, remained for the Frenchman to realize to the fullest
extent the blessing of that concealed river. The native wells
were naturallv crude and often became choked at the source.

A ri EBl-l) AND A PALM GRl)\'E

endangering the very existence of the oases. Often the
angry sun has scorched the trees, reduced the habitations to
dust, and driven the people out before the obstruction in the
well could be removed by the primitive methods of the
native divers. And these divers, called the R'tass, deserve
an honorable mention. They form a semi-religious con-
fraternit}- ; their duties demand the exercise of superhuman
courage, endurance, and unselfishness. They may be called
the firemen of the oases ; they fight the fires of heaven by
releasing the waters strangled in the sand.

W'hfii tlie (livers U'arn of a stoppage, or, as they say,
the "blinding of the eye" of a well, they hasten to the
point of danger. One of them strips and stops his ears

i88

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

AN ARTIFICIAL OASIS

with wax ; then, filHng his lungs with air almost to the
bursting point, he disappears below the surface. I have
myself seen the second-hand of my watch go round the dial
four times before the diver reappeared. For four minutes
he was out of sight beneath the waters ; then up he came,
bearing a basket filled with the mud that he had scooped
away from the ' ' blind eye ' ' of the well one hundred and
thirty feet below. This is repeated until the well begins to
flow again. It is no wonder that the men of this order are
looked upon as little short of saints. As I have said, their
efforts are not always successful, and when the French mili-
tary forces came, they called modern machinery to their aid
and bored artesian wells, which greatly increased the pro-
ductiveness of the oases. Then other Frenchmen came,
speculators, visionaries, if you will, and, tempted by the
possibilities of a scientific culture of the date, they formed a
company, obtained from the French government extensive

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

189

grants, stretches of the desert sand thought to be doomed
to eternal steriHty, and by means of artesian wells they have
created new oases which excel the old in the richness and
splendor of their vegetation. We make our noonday halt
in the fresh coolness of one of these newly-risen isles of
green. We see limpid waters well up from the thirsty soil
and flow joyously through the tiny canals, carefully arranged
for their proper distribution. The palm roots drink their fill
and repay the labor of man a hundredfold in clusters of
luscious fruit. Sometimes a single cluster will weigh as
much as forty pounds, one tree producing in a season two
hundred pounds of dates. The Arabs say that the date-palm
can attain perfection only when living thus, with its feet
bathed in cool waters, its head kissed by the fires of an
incandescent sky. We do not wonder that dwellers in the
desert love the date-palm. It is as great a blessing to them
as the camel. It lives a hundred years ; it gives them food
and shelter ; it gives them the gold of its fruit, which passes

BI.ACKKR MEN AND TALLER TREES

190

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

FACKS NOT DEVOID OF F;XPRESSION

current in all the markets of the world. And, when it ceases
to produce, its sap is made into a mild kind of wine, the

tree is eaten ; the
wood ana root and leaves are
for fences and roofs,
mats and ropes and
caskets. The in-
habitants of these
oases are a race of
mulattoes distinct
from other races
. of Algeria ; they
lack the surliness
and the reserve of
the coast races, and
possess in some de-
gree the affable dispo-
sition of the negro.

WHERE UATKS ARE " HATCHED BY SUNSHINE'

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

193

But despite the interest of the journey itself, every mile
of its infinitely varied monotony having for us the charm of
novelty, we hail with delight the first glimpse of Touggourt's
mosques and towers which distinctly outline themselves
against a rosy sky just as the day is dying. Behind us lie
more than one hundred and fifty miles of sandy trail, over
which we must soon retrace our steps ; but there before us is
the capital of the Oued Rirh, the mysterious Touggourt, so

OWKRS OF TOl'GGOURT

vaguely mentioned in books of history or travel, so far from
the trodden highways of the world. The last stage of the
journey has been a long one. — thirty-five miles of deep yield-
ing sand. Onr weary animals, the fourth relay of the day,
can barely crawl. Yet, once within the city-gates, they
respond to the lash, and we make a most spirited entry into
the market-place, — horses at full gallop, whip cracking,
driver shouting, and a mob of natives giving chase to witness
tlic arrival of the strangers at Touggourt's primitive hotel,
i.i

194

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

The hotel, of course, the only one in town, is called with
an appropriateness that no one can dispute, '' L^ Hotel de
I ' Oasis. ' ' We find it very comfortable ; its proprietor, a
French colonist, assigns to us the two best rooms. We
know they are the best, because there are but two guest-
rooms in the establishment. There are no other guests,
but we share the privileges of the table d'hote with a number
of French military officers, the postmaster, and the professor
of the newly-established public school. That Touggourt is
an important military post is attested by the splendid struc-
ture opposite the hotel. It is the barracks of the " Spahi "
or the native cavalry.

The garrison of Touggourt is composed entirely of native
soldiery, commanded by French officers. The infantry are
known as "Turcos, " and wear a Zouave uniform. The
cavalry are known as ' ' Spahis ; ' ' they wear the native dress,
and form one of the most picturesque cavalry bodies in the
world. Their horsemanship is world-famous, and their
bravery has frequently been tested, — most frequently in fight-
ing against the troops of France during the war of conquest
and the insurrections. Their faithfulness, now
that they are enlisted as volunteers under
the flag of the Republic, yet remains to be
tried, but the military authorities appear

THE ARRIVAL OF A STRANGER

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

195

THE SOUTHERN 1 KkM

OF THK MAIL-COACH LINE

convinced of it except in case of a religious war. Against
a common enemy these desert cavaliers would fight side by
side with their French brothers, to the death, if need be ;
of this no doubt has ever been expressed. Across the
market-place from the Spahi barracks is the walled enclosure
or Kasbah, the fortified headquarters of the French com-
manding officer. From its midst rises a square tower, which,
in case of an in- ^^^^ -,„^ surrection or re-

volt would ^x**^*^ ^^"Vw be the only

CAI'K AND HOTEL OK THE OASIS AT TOl'C.GOURT

196

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

means of com-
munication with
the outer world.
Curious to investi-
gate, we obtained
from the mihtary
authorities a per-
mit to send a tele-
gram from that
tower to Chicago.
' ' A telegram .'' ' '
you exclaim, "but
there is no tele-
graph . " And
you are right, for Touggourt had not yet been reached by
that ever-spreading network of electric wires which enmeshes
almost the entire world. In the desert they still relied upon
the optical telegraph at the time ., of our

visit in the year of 1894.

THE WHITK FOLK, UNMISTAKABLY FRENCH

^^.j»mm.^

IffflRKI^I^flBK^tlf)

PBWMBWa'

Oififlflfl

THE SPAHI BARRACKS

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

197

A chain of towers,
situated at intervals
of from twenty to
thirty miles, stretches
southward from Bis-
kra as far as Wargla,
the last garrisoned
oasis of the French.
In each tower are two
huge magic-lanterns,
one pointing north-
ward, the other south-
ward. The lenses of
these lanterns are
provided with shutters, which open and close in response to a
key on which the operator plays as on a telegraphic instru-
ment. Thus at night news is
flashed across the desert
from tower to tower by
intermitting rays of
light. We climb
the ladder-like

THE TOWER OF THE TELEGRAPH

,0 t.

TMI; " (ll'l KAI. I l-.i.KI.KAI'H ' SIATION

198

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

««e^;

stairs of the tower, and find
four soldiers in the upper
room busily transmitting
the messages that
come in letters of
light from Wargla,
one hundred and
fifty miles below.
We see our mes-
sage also flashed
into outer darkness,
letter by letter. The,
men in the next tower
twenty-five miles away

LES TELEGRAPHISTES

read the dots and dashes of light
through a telescope, record them,
and then repeat them for
the sake of accuracy.

To the north-
ward we can see
faint rapid flash-
es like glowings
of a tiny fire-fly ;
these re-spell our
message almost
without an error.
Thus from tower
to tower it swiftly
flies until, reach-
ing Biskra , the
electric current
begins its work.

° OPERATORS OF THE

POSTE OPTIQIE

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

199

A few hours later our telegram is delivered on the other
side of the world, and the news, that we are safe and well
at unheard-of Touggourt far out on the Sahara desert, is
known to family and friends at home.

On awakening next morning we find that many of the
caravans camped in the market-place over night have dis-
appeared. When returning from the tower to the hotel the
preceding evening, we had stumbled through acres of living

HI-- MAKkl. I -I'LACE UK TlUl.GOLKl

things, for the market-place was buried beneath a redolent
mass of camels, donkeys, mules, men, women, and children,
all jumbled together in confusion. The crews of the various
caravans had arranged shelters by piling up boxes and bales
of merchandise, and in the nooks between heaps of date-
sacks and bolts of Manchester cottons they busied themselves
during the early evening in cooking frugal suppers over tiny
tires. We were lulled to sleep by the heavy breathing of
that multitude and by the causeless groanings of a hundred

200

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

SHELTEKl

I'kiiM 1111.

camels. But long before dawn the Arabs stole away, not,
however, with folded tents, for they had none, nor silently,
for a veritable bedlam of human cries, cruel blows, and animal
complaints attended their departure. When some hours
later we make a round of the market-place, we find it ani-
mated with the local business of the day. There are venders
of all sorts of things from German glassware, gaily decorated,
to grilled grasshoppers. The latter are served hot to passing
epicures who may be seen meditatively nibbling at the deli-
cious morsels in a shady corner.

A merciless sun beats down upon the just and unjust ;
but the hotter becomes the day the more
snugly do the natives wrap around them
their hooded garments, which keep out
heat as well as cold. Above the rude
^ arcades that surround the square rise
the bright green tips of Touggourt's

" MILLIONS IN IT "

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

203

two hundred thousand palm-trees, upon the welfare of which
depends not only the wealth but the very existence of the
community. The detail of the business carried on is even
more minute than in Biskra, and the tiniest transactions are
treated with imposing seriousness by the stately merchants.
We observe two very young" business men putting their heads
together over a most engrossing affair, a red fez cap being
the focus of their attention. I have said that in the average
Arab's dress there is a dignity beyond compare ; may I be
permitted to add that there is something that is less passive
than dignity ? From the intentness with which these little
chaps are looking into the hat business they evidently believe
that there are " millions in it. ' ' One of the two seems to say,
" I 've got him "; an assurance that is belied by the doubting
expression of the other's chubby toes. Leaving the little
hunters to their task of extermination, we seek the coolness
and silence of the mosque, where there reigns a peace and
freshness as grateful as that of a thick grove of palms.
Weary worshipers lie sleeping ^^aaMHB^^fcfc^ soundly

on the mats, completely .^^^^ ^^^^^. en-

IllK MUSlJlli

204

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

shrouded in their
flowing garments.
Above our heads
are dehcate ara-
besques, their
tinting hidden by
thick coats of
whitewash. I n
the town there
are as many as
twenty mosques,
surely a Hberal
supply for a pop-
u 1 a t i o n of but
seven thousand
people. These
seven thousand
Touggourtines
may be said to
live in one great
house of many
chambers; for the
,N THE MOSQUE rcsideutial part of

Touggourt is a vast irregular pile of sun-dried bricks, honey-
combed with narrow streets burrowed out like rabbit holes
beneath the mass of dwellings. The thoroughfares are
simply tunnels pierced in the ground floor of a two-story
apartment house and lighted from above. At mid-day they
are as cool as cellars, at night black and still as catacombs.
Strange figures haunt the passages, reclining on ledges of
masonry provided for the comfort of dreamy idlers. As we
make our way through this maze of light and shadow, our
reception by the people is not a disagreeable one, for there
are a dozen smiles, a dozen " salamas " and greetings to

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

205

every frown or sneer. The ' ' Christian dog-
is not as cordially hated here as in the towns
nearer the coast. Our local guide, a fore-
runner of the "Man from Cook's," is a
well-known citizen, who speaks just a
little French. He invites us into his
abode, and leading us to his house-top,
presents us to his wives and children.
What misery, what discomfort, and
what dirt ! It is only the dryness of
the desert air that keeps the pesti-
lence at bay. In these hovels there
is no comfort ; the rooms are window-
less and dark, the terrace on the house-
top is by day almost intolerable, baked
as it is by the fiery rays of the desert sun.
The sin of enw is far from us as we sav

THE " MAN FROM COOK's'

farewell
that thev

family and the pk

TMK HOMI-: <1K THE "MAN 1-ROM COOK'S'

2o6

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

CONTENT WITH HIS CRUDE TOYS

home. Think what babyhood and
childhood must be when passed
amid surroundings such as these !
Not to be envied are the chil-
dren of this metropolis of the
Oued Rirh. No wonder that in
later years they find a comfort in
the fatalism of the Moslem creed.
There is a great work here for the
missionaries of medicine if not for those of religion. Ridic-
ulous superstition prevents fond parents from brushing away
from the inflamed eyelids of their children the swarms of
flies that cluster there. These flies thus become the mes-
sengers of disease and pain ; the germs of ophthalmia are
thus thoroughly disseminated, and total blindness results with
shocking fre-
quency. To
many of these
children the daz-
zling glory of the
desert day will
soon be nothing
more than the
blackest night.
Barbarous
indeed are many
of the medical
practices of these
people. The
barber is also the
doctor, and the
remedy for all
the ills that
flesh is heir to

THE DRAGOMAN OK THE HOTKL

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

207

iEl^"'^!-'S

is a bleeding, crude-
ly performed at the
back of the neck.
The stolid indiffer-
ence with which
the victim under-
\ goes his sufferings
bespeaks a
m a r t }• r ' s
spirit,
nor does
his suf-
f ering
friend

BARBAROUS BARBERS

^^• ho is
waiting for

the barber to say "next" evince any s}^mpathy for him.
Turning from this unpleasant spectacle we are confronted
by two gentlemen in gorgeous array, who beg us in broken
French to take a stroll with them in the suburbs. We accept
the invitation and presently find ourselves "in the suburbs. "
The object of our companions in enticing us to a decidedly
vacant lot is not robbery but a desire to be pho-
tographed. They confess that they have never
had their pictures taken. They had just arrayed
themselves in their best clothes in the [
hope of tempting us to photograph them, ^^^l
This remote spot has been selected to avoid
the undesirable notoriety that would result
should their more orthodox Moslem fellow-
citizens witness the sinful picture-making, and
report this breach of the command, ' ' Thou shalt
not make to thyself the likeness of any living
thing, ' ' a command obeyed to the letter by the

TRYING TO PLAY

208

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

vast majority of the
Prophet's followers.
It is a strange fact
that many of these
people are utterly un-
able to distinguish
anything in a photo-
graph or drawing.
Mohammed having
prohibited the repro-
duction of the hu-
'" man form, the Arab
eye, deprived of any
hereditary training,
makes out noth-
ing in a design or
picture that is not
colored. A Frenchman
tells us that on one occasion he showed a picture of two
little babies to an Arab. The latter holding it upside-down
and thinking it must be a portrait of the Frenchman's wife,
remarked, "She is indeed a beautiful woman!"

On our return to town, as we pass a
cafe, we are hailed by our fellow-trav-
eler of the mail- wagon, Mr. Lakdar
ben Mamar. He is calmly sipping
his coffee, surrounded by a coterie
of friends. Graciously he bids us
join the party, at the same time
commanding the servant to pro-
vide two more cups of the thick
delicious Arab beverage. Some
of his friends know a few words
of French, and we are plied with

TWO GENTLEMEN OF TOUGGOURT

TWO SWELLS IN THE SIBURBS

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

209

many curious questions. Then we show a series of large
photographs of the Chicago Exposition. At lirst they hold
them upside-down, then side-wise, and even when we turn
them right-side up, the puzzled furrows in the Arabs' brows
are not smoothed out. The photographs mean almost noth-
ing to them, — that is, with one exception. By dint of care-
ful explanations we manage to convey to the mind of one of
these, a vague conception of the meaning of the picture of the

"at first SKlil'TICAL CUNCliKNlM, liiklil.,N .\IA.,K

Ferris Wheel. The enlightened one then hastens to explain
to the rest that the Ferris Wheel is one of the American
railway trains, in which the Americans go whirling across their
mighty continent from coast to coast. Naturally his hearers
are left speechless with amazement. Taking advantage of
their perturbed state of mind, we perform a few old con-
juring-tricks to further mystify them. Queer facial expres-
sions are the result of my having swallowed a tive-franc
piece. Then I proceed to find five-franc pieces in every-

2IO

OASES OF THE AEGERL\N SAHARA

body 's clothes.
News of this goes
abroad ; it brings
a swarm of beg-
gars down upon
us, and hence-
forth prudence
counsels me to
find nothing more
\' a 1 u a b 1 e than
copper coins. Of
course these are
claimed by the
people in whose
dirty rags I pre-
tend to find them.
Loudly they sing
the praises of my mystic power and my generosity ; many
are the volunteers eager to submit to my profitable laying-on
of hands. And all this time the throng is growing. The
report is spread that two great ' ' Marabouts, ' ' or wonder-

FINDING COPPERS IN THEIR RA(.S

UK OCCULT POWER GROWS

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

21 I

workers, are in town ; that miracles are being done ; that
the poor find money in their hands ; that the rags of the bhnd
have begun to exude precious metals. The sleight-of-hand
performance threatens to win for us a very dangerous popu-
larity. A delegation of citizens, headed by a butcher's boy,
presents itself to beg the American wonder-workers to repeat
a few of their miracles for the benefit of late-comers. We
are kept busy swallowing coins, pulling them out of turbans

AMUSED ON-LOOKERS

and burnooses, making the jack of spades jump out of the
pack, and mending holes in flowing garments from which we
have apparently cut small bits of cloth. That we success-
fully deceived the simple audiences requires no further proof
than that afforded by their black faces on which amazement
and amusement are painted with convincing force. We are
saluted as supernatural beings ; we are followed everywhere
by a patient crowd demanding a sign, and we continue to
give "signs" until our repertory is exhausted. We almost

212

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

ruined the local amusement enterprises. The story-tellers
and snake-charmers saw their audiences melt away whenever
we appeared. Crowds forsook the old favorites, and flocked
to witness the feats performed by the mysterious strangers who
did not take up a collection. But, seriously, our simple magic
did make a profound impression. The Arab does not look
for trickery. That which he cannot understand he regards
as a miracle. The man who performs the miracle must be
a holy man. Hence we are "holy men" and worthy of
respect. It was a result of this reputation for sanctity that
we were almost forced by the people to set out next morning
for the neighboring oasis of Temagin, the abode of the most
famous holy man, or Marabout, of South Algeria.

I cannot say that the animals chartered for the journey
were of pure Arab blood. I know only that my charger
struck no happy medium between a slow painful walk and
a furious maddening gallop — far more painful, as I realized

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

213

next day and continued to realize all the way back to civiliza-
tion. We talk of the lasting impressions of travel. I thor-
oughly believe in them. We were urged to undertake this
excursion to Tema^in by friends of the Great Marabout who
holds his court there in the Zaouia of his fathers. Word had
been sent to him that two infidel wonder-workers were on
their way to prove their powers in his august presence.
Herrmann the Great about to appear at court before the
Akound of Swat or the Rajah of Paralakimidi, was never
more anxious about the result of a performance than were we
as we coursed over the smooth stretches of desert sand or
filed between the wind-created hillocks on our way to

■11 III m I III I "T"

I UK TINNKL-I.IKK SIKKKTS OK lOlIGGOURT

214

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

Temagin. And as after an exhilarating gallop we entered the
dilapidated gate of Temagin in the wake of a train of laden
camels, we wonder if we shall emerge triumphant or be
chased out as impostors by a deceived and angry holy man.
Perhaps the old, old tricks which have amused the ignorant
will be but child's play to this man who, to retain his won-
derful influence over the desert
tribes — to exact such will-
ing tribute from them
— certainly must be
intelligent, possibly
wise, at least a
cunning man fa-
miliar with de-
ceptions. Filled
with forebodings
that our mission
will surely prove ri-
diculous, we approach
the Zaouia or headquarters
of the religious fraternity, of which the man we are to visit
is the head and chief.

We find in the courtyard a group of visitors awaiting
an audience with the holy personage.

We know that the Marabout is the grandson of a saintly
hermit who led an austere life here in the desert and gained
a great renown for sanctity. When the old hermit died, he
bequeathed to his descendants a valuable inheritance ; to wit,
his reputation for holiness and his poor old bones. The
reputation was priceless ; the bones were worth their weight
in gold, as subsequent events have proved. His descendants
have exploited grandfather's bones in a highly civilized and
profitable manner. A few choice miracles, a little judicious
advertising, and behold ! the entire region for hundreds of

SUBURBAN LIFE

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

215

ENROUTE TO TEMACIN

miles around becomes tribu-
^ a I g) - ,; tary to the Zaouia in which

~M .-'^^© >' \"^ ^^^ bones have been en-

* t- MjR-. ' '»CAj shrined. Gifts and offer-

ings pour in upon the happy
possessors of the
saintly skele-
ton, until to-
day the fortune
of the family amounts to no
less than a million francs,
invested partly in gilt-edged real estate and mortgages. Nor
have the offerings of the pious yet decreased in volume, nor
is the prestige of the Marabout upon the wane ; for when the
sacred personage condescends to come into the courtyard to
receive us, many of the natives press forward to kiss the
hem of his garment, or rather the ragged edge where the
hem ought to be. I regret to say that his complexion
would instantly debar him from the privileges of a first-class
hotel in any of the southern states, but his name and address
would rt-rtniiilv look well on the pages of any hotel register.

Tllli TOWN ol'- lE.MACIN

2l6

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

He gives us a cordial grasp of the hand, an honor rarely
paid to Christians by a strict Mohammedan. We, not to be
outdone in courtesy, follow the Arab custom, and, after

3IDI

MOHAMMED

EL AID

BEN SIDI

ALI BEN SIDI EL

HAJ

ALI TEJANI

Marabout

LA ZAOUIA

DE TEMELLAT

Temacin

Cercle de Touggourt

Prov

INCE

DE CONSTANTINE

algerie

having touched his sacred palm, devoutly raise our own
fingers to our lips and kiss them. These little politenesses
accomplished, we follow his holiness into the mosque to look
upon the tomb containing those income-yielding bones of the

WAirlNG VISITORS AT TEMACIN

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

217

great ancestor.
Then we are con-
ducted to the pri-
vate apartments
of the Marabout.
Through an in-
terpreter we are
bidden to remain
for luncheon .
We accept the
invitation.

Words fail to
tell of our surprise
on entering the
boudoir of our
holy host. We
had pictured to
ourselves a sanc-
tum sanctorum,
containing possibly a prayer-mat and a copy of the Koran.
We find instead a cozy den filled with the creations of
Ihe instalment-plan furniture dealer. Let me recite a cata-
logue of these incongruities. There was one tall clock, two
cuckoo clocks, and five other clocks, each marking a different
hour ; there was a looking-glass, a settee, and a table, —
all from the I^on Marche of Paris; there were — Oh, shade
of Mohammed ! photographic likenesses of living forms,
selected from the collections in the windows of the Rue de
Rivoli ; there was a kerosene lamp like those which some-
times hang above the table d ' bote in five-franc-per-day pen-
sions ; and last and greatest wonder of them all, a lonely
gas-Hxture, complete with its wall-bracket, burner, and
globe. Our host ])roudly takes it down to show it to
us, for it is mereh' hung upon a hook. There are no

HOW ARE vol'

2l8

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

fJ^^^

IN THE DEN OF THE MARABOUT

the least, unpretentious. No
than fourteen courses were served
some of them native dishes an
some of them European, such
as sardines, tinned meats, and
Enghsh biscuits. To our sur-
prise wine was produced,
and the saintly lips were very
often moistened with the for-
bidden nectar. It is no sin,
however, for Marabouts to
drink, for every faithful fol
lower understands that wine on
passing the lips of a saint iiistan

pipes, no con-
duits, and no gas-
works within five
hundred miles.
And then, just as
the servant brings
in the first course
of an intermin-
able feast, our
host touches off a
Swiss-music box,
which rattles out
rollicking meas-
ures of the Bou-
1 a n g e r March.
The luncheon
was very palata-
ble, although pre-
pared in a kitchen
that was, to say

SIDI MOHAMMED EL AID BEN SIDI ALI, ETC., ETC., ETC.

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

219

becomes as pure and harmless as the milk of a goat. Never-
theless after the third bottle we deemed our host in a mood
to appreciate our miracles ; we commenced. It is not meet
for me to relate the success that attended our sleight-of-
hand performance under the very nose of the great Algerian
wonder-worker. Modesty forbids the telling of the saintly
awe or of the expressions of consternation, delight, confusion,
and perplexity that overspread the dusky countenance of our

WAITING TO SKE THK HOLY MAN

kind host, as one by one our miracles were worked before
him. When I caught dollars in the air, found them in his
turban, drew them forth from loaves of bread, or changed
them into hundred-franc gold pieces, he grew so enthusiastic
over my financiering that he was on the point of offering me
a position as treasurer to the confraternity. When I cut a
big hole in his own burnoose and at once by means of tire
patched it perfectly, he almost began to fear that he would

220

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

A BEAUTY-SPOT IN THE SAHARA

be deposed and we, the strangers, be declared more worthy
of the guardianship of his venerated grandpapa's bones. I
know he felt relieved when, our visit finished, we rode away
through the dilapidated thoroughfares of Temagin.

At parting he said with sincerity in his tone, " You must
indeed be great saints in your own country. ' ' When we
shook hands for
the last time, lie
kissed ]iis fin-
gers. It will be
many a long day
before that Afri-
can Marabout
forgets the visit
of the American
saints who hailed
from a city called
Chicago — not

I'.KKBKRS AND
BARRELS

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

221

locally renowned for its sanctity. In proof that he has not
forgotten, I receive every January a card on which is printed,
"Respectful compliments of Sidi Mohammed el Aid ben Sidi
Ali ben Sidi el Haj Ali Tejani Marabout de la Zaouia de
Temellat-Tema9in, " etc.

Filled with the proud consciousness of having made the
name of Chicago honored and respected in this far region of
the world, we make our wav through the outskirts of this oasis

^-^^^9^^- ^^«*'^

^.-

I 1 LEMENT

of Tema9in, one of the most beautiful that we have seen, for —
unique luxury — it boasts a tiny lake. Surrounded by groves
of date-producing palms, fanned by a delicious evening breeze,
with sparkling waters at our feet, we e.xclaim : "Can it be
possible that this lovely spot is a part of the Sahara desert ? ' *
Yet true it is, and there are many spots as fair u]:)on that
desolate expanse. The Sahara desert nourishes u})on its
sandy breast a population of two and a half millions of souls.
In other words, a population equaling in number that of Paris

222 OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

is scattered over this vast waste place of Africa which has an
area of 3,500,000 square miles — an area almost as great as
that of the entire continent of Europe. From the little we
have seen of this accursed region — this useless quarter of our
globe — we can gain no conception of its vastness. But we
cannot fail to be impressed with the unearthly silence of the
sandy valleys through which we pass as we return toward
Touggourt ; or oppressed by the thought that beyond the

IVRIADS OF GRAVE-LIKE MOUNDS

nearest hills are other hills ad hifi)iitiuu, hills so like that we
might lose ourselves by merely wandering a hundred yards
from the well-marked camel trail ; that beyond those other
hills are plains of sand and sage-brush, more piles of drifted
sand, vast stretches of pebbly, gravelly soil, mountains of
barren rock, — some of them rising eight thousand feet above
the level of the sea, — and plains more barren still, sunk
below the ocean's level — unmeasured miles of shifting sands
— baked bv the ravs of a merciless, brazen sun, or tormented

OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

223

bv fierce winds, hot as a furnace blast, that heap up waves of
sand and bury passing caravans. And the people who dwell
in the midst of all this silent horror, are they not to be
pitied ? Cut off from civilization, ignorant, filthy, sick ; their
very existence often one long malady, mental, moral, and
physical ; their only earthly aspirations, sufficient food to sus-
tain their miserable lives, a Bedouin tent beneath which to
burn by day, to freeze by night. Yet the meanest of them

■Hl^^'^.;^ ^ SL^^ItlsSiAh.

WHERE FRANCE BURIES HER DEAD IN THE DESERT

consider themselves immeasurably superior to us. They say,
' ' You people of the Great West, you have been favored with
many blessings, great ships, great wealth, a thousand won-
derful things most useful to people who live such hasty, rest-
less li\-es; but to us Allah — praised be his name ! — has given
that which is above all this, he has given us the precious
jewel of the 'True Belief.' This is our glorious heritage. "
The desert night is closing in as we approach the sandy
hills of Touggourt. Just as the sun sinks below the horizon,

224 OASES OF THE ALGERIAN SAHARA

we pass the cemetery of the French, its outer walls almost
completely buried in the drifted sand — a few of its graves
kept clear by loving hands. On one of the little wooden
crosses is rudely painted, "Here lies little Eugene, a soldier,
regretted by his comrades." "Little Eugene, a soldier,"
a noble epitaph ! ' ' Regretted by his comrades, ' ' a frank
and simple eulogy. And this soldier is only one of the many
who have died far from home in the cause of civilization.
Only the pure waters of such sacrifices can fertilize this
sterile ground, only the unselfish efforts of civilized man
reclaim from barbarism the Great Sahara. Reclaim the
Sahara ! a mighty work ! yet one already undertaken by the
French. When railways shall connect Algiers with Senegal,
Biskra with the Sudan, with Lake Chad, and Timbuctu,
when instead of by scores we may count by thousands the
oases created by the sinking of artesian wells ; when educa-
tion through its schools — one of which exists to-day in
Touggourt — shall have dispersed the clouds of supersti-
tion, then may we look for a new era. Then shall man have
tnumphed over the curse of desolation, which since the
beginning of the world has bound suffering Africa in its
awful embrace, robbed her of her chance in the great race
of the continents, made her a land abhorred, her people,
savages, and her hopeless state a reproach to the enlightened
nations of the earth.

(,')Wn HIAM A M()>I''I )

SOUTHERN SPAIN

outhern

Spain

TT IS a remarkable fact that Spain, the proud land imder
^ whose flag the first ships sailed across the broad Atlantic
to our shores, should now lie almost untouched by the great
tide of travel from America. Spain dared and did the most
to transform the mysterious western ocean from a place of
vague terrors into a mighty highwa}- for the commerce of
two worlds, and }'et her seaports now play no important
parts as termini for transatlantic steamship lines, nor is
it possible to reach tlu-m save by circuitous voyages or in
inferior shijis.

228

SOUTHERN SPAIN

ENGLAND S FAMOI

One of the main currents of trade and travel reaches
Europe through the ports of England, France, and Ger-
many ; the other flows through the Gibraltar Straits and
rolls on toward the Orient. The traveler who would visit
Spain must therefore enter by a French or British doorway ;
he must either cross the Pyrenean border from the south
of France, or, landing at Gibraltar, braving the stare of
British guns, enter the lovely province of Andalusia with the
music of "God save the Queen'
echoing in his ears.

My first impression
of the land of the
Hidalgo and of the
Don was the never-
to-be - forgotten
vision of Gibral-
tar arising from
the deep. 1 hough
dimly seen in the
first flush of dawn,
the rock at once im
presses us a thing to

C;iHKALTAR

SOUTHERN SPAIN

229

feared, respected, and admired. Of that mighty chain of
fortresses by means of which England binds her Oriental
conquests firmly to her island throne, Gibraltar is the
grandest link. Slowly, almost respectfully, our ship ap-
proaches the place of anchorage.

Gibraltar was in ancient times regarded as one of the
pillars of Hercules, and it then bore the name of Calpe. It

CLOUD-CAPPED

takes its present name from the Arab concjueror Tarik,
whose followers called it " Gebel-al-Tarik " or the "Hill of
Tarik." The year 711 marked its passing into the hands
of Moslem,, who, by caprice of fate, were led to dedicate it
to llu' " God of Peace," as is proved by an inscription found
ill lliL'ir old castU; moscpie. In 1 309 it was taken from the
Moors; in 1333 recovered In' them. A century and a half
later the Spaniards again took possession, onl\- to surrender

2 30

SOUTHERN SPAIN

ARRIVING TRAVELERS

Gibraltar to the English in 1704, during the War of the
Succession. George I, then King of England, willed to give
up what was considered by his nation "a barren rock, an
insignificant fort, a useless charge."

Britain, however, decided to retain this little slice of
Spain, and twice gallantly repulsed the advances of the
Spanish. Then came the memorable siege begun in 1779.

SOUTHERN SPAIN

233

WAITING FOR THE TANGIER BOAT

has been converted by
fortified places in the
leries" are cat in
the cHff that rears
itself from the flat
neck of ground con-
necting Gibraltar
with the mainland.
F"rom the windows
of the tunnels and
cells with wliich
that rock is honey-
combed, huge can-
non glare out upon
the land-approach,
a n (1 so challiMigc
grimly the whole
peninsula oi Spain.

The rock withstood for four
long years the combined
attacks of French and
Spanish fleets and
armies. The fa-
mous floating bat-
teries launched
against it, were ren-
dered useless or de-
stroyed by British
guns. The rock turned
back the onslaught of
two nations as calmly as
it to-day breaks the fury
of the waves harmlessly beat-
ing round its base. Gibraltar
the English into one of the strongest
world. The celebrated "rock gal-

URITONS, MOORS, AND SPANIARDS

-34

SOUTHERN SPAIN

FROWNING TOWARD SPAIN

reduced by disease
bers about fifty
members. As an
instance of the care-
ful record of the in-
habitants of Gibral-
tar kept by the
British authorities,
the men of the sig-
nal station have
orders instantly to
report by telephone
to the governor 's
palace whenever it
is observed that the

Landing, we see above us the Moorish
Castle, said to be the oldest Ara-
,^ bian structure in all Spain.
Below it clings the modern
town, both of them domi-
nated by the granite mass
of the rock itself. The
higher portion of the
rock is forbidden ground.
One of the pinnacles is
crowned by the sema-
phore tower, where the
passing of every ship is sig-
naled. These peaks are
haunted by a band of apes,
existing in a state of savagery,
but in whose welfare the crew
of this aerial station takes much
interest. In i860 the monkeys were
to a measrer dozen: now the band num-

SOUTHERN SPAIN

235

simian population has
been increased by
the arrival of a baby
monkey.

Near the summit,
so we are told, there
are concealed mighty
cannon which per-
fectly and at all times
command the strait ;
for even though the
peaks be wrapped in
clouds, the cannon
may be turned upon
a passing ship, the human eye that judges the distances and
the angles, and the hand that directs the aim being near the
water's edge. Electricity does the rest. Thus from the very

ALGECIRAS

236

SOUTHERN SPAIN

rlouds Gibraltar may — like Jove himself — hurl down unerr-
ing bolts. Enough, however, of this grim portal of sunny
Spain. Let us leave England's fortress, and after a delight-
ful sail across the bay, set foot on Spanish soil at Algeciras,
the terminus of the railway. Not many years ago the trav-
eler was forced to journey from Gibraltar northward in a dili-
gence, but this new line of steel has rendered easy of access

•N..

']$■'

.-^^^

;^/^

l-'^'-'V'N

A FORMIDABLli l-RAGRANT (>!• (.IBRALTAR

SOUTHERN SPAIN

239

the fairest and most interesting regions of the south of Spain.
We find awaiting us a Spanish railway train belonging to
the Campania de Ferro Carriles Andahices. The sun
is beating fiercely upon the asphalt platform, and we hastily
ensconce ourselves within a stuffy carriage wherein we find
already lodged two women and two men, who, like all travel-
ers, look with disfavor upon intruding fellow-passengers.
The train now starts, and as from the windows we look
out across the bay to where Gibraltar's mass slowly changes
shape as we progress, we are disturbed by the precipitate

Sl'AMSH < IS 1< ).M-ll<irsfc:

!40

SOUTHERN SPAIN

fellow - travelers,
as if they under-
stood what is re-
quired of them,
rise and lift up
the cushions of
their seats, while
our mysterious
visitor neatly lays
upon the uncov-
ered boards doz-
ens of packages
of cigarettes, ci-
gars, and pipe to-
bacco which he
rapidly produces

arrival in our compartment of an em-
ployee of the railway who has
\\'orked his way along
the foot-board on the
outside of the moving
train from car to car.
He silently salutes our
Spanish companions,
gives us a look of
searching scrutiny,
and then, as if assured
of our neutrality, with
the utmost self-posses-
sion he begins to take
from his pocket sun-
dry packages, which
give forth the fragrant
odor of tobacco. Our

'yjt

■» »^«.'*'^'H'Vi-% '%.x'

LOOKING FOR TOBACCO

SOUTHERN SPAIN

241

DURING A STOP

cushions, the smuggling guard
smile, but without a word, trust-
our silence. And as at the next
Spanish venders of provisions,
most every mouth a ^- ^
cigarette. Given the -
national love of nico-
tine, it is small won-
der that the vicinity
of the free port of Gibral
tar sliould ])rove a
])rofit-
able

not only from his
huge capacious
pockets but also
from his hat, the
inside of his waist-
coat, his shirt, his
sleeves, nay, even
from his boots
and trouser-legs.
The forward set-
tee being covered
with a layer of
tobacco, we rise,
obligingly, while
our seat is in a
like manner re-
upholstered with
a dozen pounds of
dutiable weed.
Then finally, after
replacing the
departs with an engaging
ing — not vainly — in
station we watch the
see in al-

ON THK HIX.K Ol' SPAIN

242

SOUTHERN SPAIN

ANDALUSIAN EXPRESS

ground for small-scale smuggling ; in fact, it is said that
everybody smuggles in this region, that every train carries
into Spain a store of contraband tobacco. Our car, side-
tracked at night in some interior city, will be ransacked by
accomplices of the clever guard. This is but one of the

ON THE SPANISH LINE

SOUTHERN SPAIN

245

innumerable means of carrying on free trade in a protected
land. Another and a clever one is practiced near Gibraltar,
where Spanish dogs with loads of contraband tobacco tied
to them, are loosed upon the neutral ground and naturally run
for home, usually getting safely past the sentinels and cus-
toms spies upon the Spanish line. Sometimes, however, they

HOUSETOPS IN filBRALTAR TOWN

are caught, — but little good does the government derive
from the capture, for the tobacco is confiscated by the sen-
tries for their own consumption. The railway smuggling is
carried on despite the watchfulness of the Civil Guard, two
members of which excellent corps are invariably upon the
platform of every station. This Giiardia Civil has done
more than any other body to establish order in the land.
Its personal is composed of men of highest character ; they

246

SOUTHERN SPAIN

THE VEGA AND THE PALISADES OF RONDA

are wholly uninfluenced by political interests. They are a
class of men apart. They possess a broad sense of their
own worth and responsibility — so broad that, familiar with
the uncertainties of Spanish law, they do not hesitate to
make assurance doubly sure by shooting on the spot, such
criminals as may be taken red-handed in crime; nor is it un-
usual for them to dispose by premeditated accident of those
of whose guilt there is no moral doubt.

But to resume our journey. Let me lead you now to a
city which, until this railroad was completed, was but little
known and seldom visited by foreigners. Ronda is the name
of this most picturesquely situated city, and Ronda is cer-
tainly destined to be included in the itinerary of every future
traveler in southern Spain. There is but one Ronda in
Spain, just as in Algeria there is but one Constantine; and
those who have visited with me the Wonder City of Algeria
cannot fail to be struck by the resemblance between it and

SOUTHERN SPAIN

247

the cliff-perched city now before us. Both cities tower a
thousand feet above the plain, both boast a gorge of awful
depth and a bridge of grand proportions and imposing height.
Both have been Arab strongholds, both captured after many
fruitless efforts by people of the Latin race, and both are to-
day Christian cities. One thousand feet above the Vega we
descry the snowy walls of red-tiled houses ; before us is the
entrance to the frightful gorge, or "Tajo, " cleft in the rocky
foundations of the town. The scene becomes more and
more impressive as we draw nearer to the cliffs.
The roar of tum-
bling waters is ech-
oed back and forth
between the walls
of rock; the whirr
and buzz of many
tiny flour-mills fills
the spray-laden
air. Our guide
points out a path
by which we are
to ascend city-
ward, but we can
barely trace its
tortuous upward
course. He tells
us that the bridge
was built more
than a hundred
years ago, and
that its arch is
three hundred and
fifty feet in height ;
that the river is

248

SOUTHERN SPAIN

called the Guadalevin, or the "Deep Stream" — an Arab
name, for Arab names have resisted the Christian flood
which swept away the hosts and cities of the Infidel. As
we may well imagine, Ronda was regarded by her Moslem
masters as a sure refuge for their hosts and a never-fail-
ing bulwark against the advance of the Christian armies.
Situated in the heart of the wild mountain-region known

CASCAIJtS <JK THE GUADALEVIN

SOUTHERN SPAIN

249

THE BRIDGE OVER THE TAJO

as the Serrania de Ronda, crested by a strong castle with
a triple line of walls and towers, Ronda was deemed secure
from the attack of unbelievers. But in spite of a brilliant
and heroic defense, Ronda at last was taken by the armies of
Ferdinand and Isabella, and her people were exiled to Africa
or Granada, where at that
moment the Moors were
still in power.
The Spanish
prisoners in
Ronda s dun-
geons were joy-
fully released
and carried in
triuinpli before
the kinij' and

PRKTTV CHII riREN

2;o

SOUTHERN SPAIN

queen. The chains stricken from the ankles and wrists of
those captives may be seen to-day in the city of Toledo, hang-
ing upon the outer wall of an old church. We, however,
shall have less difficulty than the rescuing Spanish knights in
gaining entrance to the city. For to-day Ronda, although
unused to curious visitors, has begun to look upon them
without malice ; and fortunately so, for it was once a not-
unusual amusement for the idle youth of Ronda to pelt
with inconveniently large bits of rock such daring travelers
as might have crossed the mountains from Gibraltar to
explore this interesting neighborhood. Ronda is refined
only in cruelty and lawlessness. Her bull ring has seats for
ten thousand spectators — just one half the population of the
city. The horses slaughtered in the Plaza de Toros are
disposed of conveniently by being thrown from an overhang-

-«J|^-3te

THE ROCK CF RONDA

THE 15RIDGE AT RON'DA

SOUTHERN SPAIN

253

f^^ v* K

^•^^'S^/^l

I! I ng^

ing rock into a hollow far below ; this accounts for the
frequent birds of prey seen hovering around the heights.
Ronda was, in fact, one of the cradles of Spain's two pet
professions, bull-hghting and smuggling. Her toreros and
her coyitrabaiidistas have long been famous. The neigh-
boring mountain-passes, ^ — wild and desert places, — were
favorite stages for those dramas in which the highway robber
played his stirring part; and, as we hnally arrive upon the
pavement of the bridge across which flows the tide of city

254

SOUTHERN SPAIN

BULL RING OF RONDA

life, it seems to our disturbed imaginations as if in every
face we read a love of lawlessness. Each donkey driver
becomes a bandolero ; we seem to recognize in this maid
or yonder matron a descendant of that notorious Margarita of
Ronda who, forty years ago, while yet in the bloom of youth,
was executed after confessing to no less than fourteen mur-
ders. Or possibly we think of those seven bandit brothers
whose record has, I think, not yet been broken, for to them
were justly attributed one hundred and two murders and un-
numbered robberies. We shudder at the practice in Mo-
rocco of hanging gory heads of criminals and rebels above
the city-gates. Not more than fifty years ago the heads of
bandits were exposed to public gaze in iron cages on the
Spanish highways. Customs have changed, however, and
Ronda 's present life is quietude and peace to all outward
seeming. Let us, then, cross the bridge and enter the
market-place, where the fruits and vegetables of the sur-
rounding valleys are exposed for sale.

In Ronda the Andalusian costume still prevails. True, it
is subject to a gradual modification which haplessly will

SOUTHERN SPAIN

255

become more rapid every year, now that the railway has
disturbed these regions with its shriek of progress. Never-
theless the peasant types are marvelously picturesque.
Referring to the sturdiness of these same peasants, there is a
Spanish proverb which says : —

"Ell Ro)ida los Jiornbrcs
A ochoita so)i polioses,
that is, "In Ronda men of eighty are as sprightly as
young chickens.

I naturally looked about for specimens of these octogen-
arian chickens, but unfortunately the only ancient Dons dis-
covered in the streets, did not give evidence of the proverbial
sprightliness. I wished most ardently to obtain the services
of such a one as guide ; but I ! alas, discovered that the Span-

ON THK BRIDGE

2 56

SOUTHERN SPAIN

THE MARKET

ish taught in Chicago was as Greek to those rare old birds.
Nor were my ears attuned to the accent of Andalusia where
the prevailing poverty forces the natives to bite off and eat
one half or three quarters of every rich, full-voweled Spanish
word they utter. Thus I was forced to be content with the
services of the hotel guide — a less picturesque but far more
comprehensible and comprehending person. He fulfilled the
promises of the proverb; for in spite of eighty years of baking
in the shadeless streets of Ronda, he nimbly bore my camera
from morn till night, climbing to belfries, descending the
ravines without apparent fatigue, passing from the torrid
street into the chill gloom of the churches without a shiver,
and from the cloistered dimness of old monasteries into the
awful glare of noonday without a blink. He could not, how-
ever, pass a cafe without partaking of a drop of some ' ' elixir
of youth, ' ' and in this his one weakness I indulged my
eightv-vear-old "chicken." His beatific smiles of thanks

SOUTHERN SPAIN

257

repaid me many fold. He was, in truth,

a model cicerone, and with him I

visited all the places which are

marked with double stars in the

red-covered guide-book.

Expressing" a desire to visit

the depths of the Tajo, he

leads me by a circuitous route

to the place where the river

Guadalevin enters the gorge

of Ronda. We have already

looked upon its exit below the

Spanish bridge ; we now find

ourselves at the upper end of

the Tajo, within the shadow of

an ancient bridge ascribed to Ro-

There being

A RONDA " CHICKEN

man builders
no path, we pick our way
over bouldc!rs, leap across the
little rivulets, into which the
stream is here divided, and
thus laboriously advance into
the depths. Thci dwellings
of Ronda hang on the verge,
looking like dice about to be
dropped into a mighty dice-
cup. Closer and closer to
one another draw the over-

ir; AND OCT OK CHl'KCHUS

258

SOUTHERN SPAIN

hanging ledges ; higher and
v/% higher rise the tiny cubes
of the white which
tremble on the brink ;
deeper and deeper
flows the Guadalevin,
until at last our prog-
ress is arrested by
rude natural barriers.
We have seen enough,
and gladly ascend to
gayer scenes and
brighter sunshine.
My antique compan-
ion, in response to
my wish to look upon
the gorge from one
of the houses on the

brink, knocks at a door, makes
known my desire. Thereupon
we are conducted by the mis-
tress of the house to a rear
balcony or terrace. As I an-
ticipated, it did indeed com-
mand a superb prospect.

Through the noble arch of
the Spanish Bridge we look
out at the verdant Vega, re-
freshed by the waters of the
Guadalevin which we see just
escaping from a dozen tiny
mills. The path by which we
first approached the city is
now plainly discernible.

A RONHKNO

T1.-

~^k..

•f ""SR r

/' *ii^- ,^ •*iitf="''i

,.J*

SOUTHERN SPAIN

261

A ROMAN BR I 111. 1;

while directly below us lies the rocky chaos in which we
found ourselves a moment since. My Spanish hosts soon
become interested in the photographic manipulations and
question me as to my name and country. They invite me
to take a glass of sherry in the drawing-room, insisting upon
mv retaining ni\- hat indoors, wliicli is a curious lorm of
Spanish c(jurtesv. .\s I rise to go, tlie kind old Don leads

262

SOUTHERN SPAIN

me again out on the terrace, where we surprise three young
lauies, his daughters, with mandoHns and castanets, practic-
ing a graceful Spanish dance. With as much warmth as
if I had been an old acquaintance, he presents me to
them, and begs me watch the dancing and listen to the
music for awhile. I learned later that the family held a
respected place in Ronda. It is pleasant to recall that he

THE VEGA OF KONDA

SOUTHERN SPAIN

263

PlCrLKIiSQUt; PASSERS-BY

who had knocked at the door a stranger was reluctantly
ushered out with such kind farewells as would have attended
the departure of a friend. A moment after the door has
closed behind us, we find ourselves once more upon the
bridge, and from its parapets look out again upon the valley,
overflowing with warm sunshine and carpeted with luxuriant
green. We linger there in comtemplation for an hour.

The view recalls a little excursion which I undertook one
afternoon with my old guide and two small lazy donkeys.
We crossed the valley, passing through fields of grain and
orchards rich in fruit to a deserted hermitage upon the flank
of yonder range of hills.

The keys to the old hermitage were in charge of a little
girl who dwelt hard by in a sadly dilapidated house, whicdi

264

SOUTHERN SPAIN

FANDANGO

\ \lsl \ WIDE AND DEET

SOUTHERN SPAIN

26:

must have been at one time a pretty country seat. She
was sweetly pretty, poorly but neatly dressed. The
mother's gown of faded black and her pinched and worn
expression told of that war with povert}^ which the great
mass of the Spanish people must ever wage and, alas, so

fretjuently in vain. Yet Spanish poverty is always pictur-
esque— to-day, as in Murillo's time. I]ut with this poverty
there marches hand in hand the awful scepter " Ignorance."
Of Spain's population of about seventeen millions, more
than two thirds can neither read nor write. .\nd as return-
ing to the city we again let our eyes wander over the sur-
rounding valleys; let me repeat the words uttered by a
Spanish priest : —

266

SOUTHERN SPAIN

"Behold us, trul_\- if we be not like the people mentioned
in the Bible, — seated in the shadow of death, — we are at
least seated in the shadow of tradition. In Spain the tradi-
tion is that at the top there should be a few learned men,
a few enlightened priests and bishops, a few men of great
talent, and then comes a profound drop to the middle plane
where there are ^^^^•■■■■^^fc^ those who know but
a little and ^^^^ ^^^^ read less, and

below that ^r ^^ the fright-

BRED IN ANDALUSIA

ful abyss of ignorance in which the untaught millions — seven
tenths of the nation — are resigned to live without the light
of knowledge. " Another lover of the Spanish people says: —
" It is pitiful to see the vivacious look upon their faces and
to feel behind it the absence of that spirit of inquiry which
elsewhere animates the lower classes. Here in Spain the
cerebral instrument is a superior one, yet it has been deemed
no more worthy of cultivation than this marvelous soil, so
many acres of which lie unfilled in Andalusia and the
Castilles. " And as the sun sinks low and darkness creeps
across the Vega, we ask if there be no promise of better

SOUTHERN SPAIN

267

lOUAKI) 1H1< SUPURBS

things. An an-
swer comes to us
from the busy cit-
ies of the north;
from Barcelona,
Bilbao, and Ma-
drid, where a new
active life luis
lately had com-
mencement. A
nation's intellect-
ual advance keeps
pace with its ma-
terial progress ; let
us then iiope
that w i t h a

SOrTHF.RN SPAIN

268

SOUTHERN SPAIN

181"

THE ALEMEIJA TERRACE

growing commerce will come a rapid increase in means of
popular education. Let us hope that even slee^jy, poetic,
delightful Andalusia may vet thrill at the touch of the magic

IN SEVILLE

SOUTHERN SPAIN

269

wand of industry in the hand of the Spirit of Progress;
that she may be wakened from her dreamy lethargy, shake
off the faded laurels won in driving forth the Moors, and
seek fresh wreaths of glory in the arena of modern activity
and enterprise. The kingdom which sent Columbus to our
shores should be ^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ashamed to play
the laggard ^^T ^^^ now. From

make our
trains

'55

Ronda we

A MINIATURE CALVARY

that are as leisurely as they are unluxurious, to fair Seville.
At last, however, we reach our destination, and hnd ourselves
upon the Great Plaza near the entrance to Seville's most
famous street, the Calle de las Sierpes. We have arrived at
the epoch of the great annual Fair or Fcriiiy an event which
brings hitluTfrom all corners of Spain and from many foreign
lands, eager crowds of pleasure-seekers, showmen, travelers,
and pickpockets. I had been warnetl by a Spanish gentleman
to look well to my watch and valuables, while my friend had
been urged in most serious terms to n^frain from appearing in
knickerbockers, lest he should be a cause of public tumult ;

270

SOUTHERN SPAIN

for, said our mentor, "all the ' pi/los,' or rascals of Spain
are now in town, and they do love to mock an Englishman. "
Be it said that every foreigner is to the Spanish crowd an
Englishman until he otherwise proclaims himself. I must
admit we were made to feel decidedly conspicuous until we
had invested in two broad-brimmed sombreros of a form
especially affected by the Sevillian male.

We shall make our way toward the Feria on foot to visit,
as we go, a few of Seville's worthiest sights; and first of
course comes the Cathedral and the beautiful Giralda Tower
— the tower built by Moorish hands and left a lovely remin-
iscence of the Moslem's taste and power. It is worth while
to climb aloft if only to wit- I ness the ringing of the great
cathedral bells. The tower i vividly recalled to me an
unfinished Moorish structure |[ which I had seen a few
weeks previously at «MMMitf[|||HwBtoMMf Rabat on the west
coast of Africa. It WTyTVMnnnQn'j is said that the same
Arab Calif

Photograph by Harlow D. Higinbothaiii

A PORTAL OF THE ALCAZAR, SEVILLE

SOUTHERN SPAIN

271

both. This thought reminds us that Sevihe was once a
Moslem city hke unto Fez, the Moor's metropohs ; that Ar-
abic was spoken in its streets and Allah worshiped in its
mosques ; that Christians once came hither as students in
search of Oriental learning. Seville was then a shining
light of civilization. In time the Christian conquest came,
and Seville was taken by the Spanish armies of St. Ferdi-
nand. The conquerors razed to the ground the splendid
mosque which ^^^^'•"■^^^^fc^ stood upon this
site, then ^^^ ^^^^ vowed to erect

upon its ^T ^^^^Sb ruins a holy

TRICK-FOUNTAINS IN THIC PATHS

church so vast and so magnificent that posterity would look
upon it with awe and call its builders fools or insane men.
As a result, Seville possesses one of the grandest cathedrals
in all Spain. A land famed for its churches.

Continuing our walk we reach another famous building —
one devoted to quite different use — to the manufacture of
tobacco. We see a score of motlern Carmens going to their
daily tasks, but oli ! shades of Cahc, de Lussan and tlie rest !
how little like \\\v ("iiniicii of l)i/ct's opera are these, her

2/2

SOUTHERN SPAIN

living prototypes ! One thing alone remains of our ideal Car-
men, the red rose in her jetty hair. Within the building we
are shown from hall to hall, each vaster and more gloomy
than the last, each crowded with weary looking women,
voung and old, of whom many are rocking with their feet the
cradle of a sleeping child, while rolling cigars or cigarettes

THE CATHEDRAL OF SEVILLE

with the busy hands. Four thousand workers — four thousand
hapless Carmens — daily throng the halls and breathe the
tobacco-laden atmosphere. Reaching the outskirts of the
city we encounter a goodly load of country lads and lasses
fair- ward bound, making slow progress in a two- wheeled cart
drawn by a pair of sturdy oxen. A pleasure vehicle offering
less comfort we have never seen, nor the one the occupants
of which W'ere in a merrier mood. This annual feria occur-

SOUTHERN SPAIN

273

ring the i8th day of April and two following days, is not,
however, a simple rustic festival. True, it was primarily an
exhibition of produce and tine cattle, but it has now become
one of the fashionable events of Spain, and it is to Seville
what the Carnival is to Rome and Nice and the Grand Prix
to Paris and Derby Day to London.

Nevertheless our first impressions are 01 a rural fete, as
we come out upon a vast grass-covered space crowded with
splendid animals ; here sheep, there goats, beyond them,
pigs, then in another quarter, pensive cows, and last and best
hundreds of restive horses, all awaiting sale. In the distance
looms the great cathedral, and every little while the bells of
the Giralda send out across the city and this busy camp their
cheerful music. W'e stand now in the middle of the cattle
market and around us is enough wool, hides, beef, mutton,
veal, and pork to supply a cit3''s population for a year. /\s
we move on, we pass with anxious eyes gigantic bulls, fearing
to become involved in an impromptu bull-tight, for to the
uninitiated, the ordinary Spanish bull appears as formidable

Till-; CARMANS OK TO-l)AV

274

SOUTHERN SPAIN

NOT FOR THE BL'LL KING

as a toro bravo of the ring. Reaching in safety the limits of
the countryman's domain, we enter that belonging to the
world of rank and fashion. This broad and well-kept avenue
is during the three days of the fair the focus of the social life
of Seville. Here in the morning occurs a grand parade of

equestrians and carriages.

Not to appear here at

the proper hour is a

misfortune of the

utmost social

COINC, TO THE KERIA

SOUTHERN SPAIN

277

significance, for all Seville is here to look and be looked
upon in turn. The stately carriage of Seville's most hon-
ored lady passes and repasses us. In it we see the Duchess
of Montpensier, sister of the ex-Queen of Spain and widow
of the son of Louis Philippe, King of the French. With her,
as guests of honor we frequently behold the Countess of

Paris and her ^^^■^■■^■^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ young

Pretender ^^g^^^^ ^^^^^^^ to the

throne of ^^l^^^^«^»B»W»^^ France,

the Duke of woolly acres Orleans. He

does not seem to bear his exile heavily, but rather to enjoy
wearing good clothes, setting the styles for aping Spanish
swells, attending races, bull-fights, and the like.

Paralleling the dri\e\vay is on eitiier side a broad prom-
enade, up and down which at certain hours of the day and
far into the night the gaily dressed and animated throng is
passing. Here we shall see the fairest of fair Seville's
daughters in tlu'ir new spring frocks ; two sisters dressed

278

SOUTHERN SPAIN

RK AND MUTTON

alike in every detail is a frequent sight, while even a quartet
of pretty girls, each arrayed in a copy of the other's gown,

TOO MUCH KERIA

SOUTHERN SPAIN

279

is by no means unusual. What an amount of worry and
designing is thus saved to the mother of numerous unmarried
girls ; how many petty jealousies are thus avoided, for each
girl must possess just as many and just as tasteful dresses
as her sister. Bordering the promenade is a long row of
light and airy structures of wood and canvas, adorned with

RANK AND lASIlIdN

rugs and flowers. They are what the Spaniards call " cdsii-
/as," "little houses," and during the fair time serve as
temporary homes for the " four hundred" of the citv. The
family that is of any social pretensions will, at the approach
of fair time, rent from the authorities one of these little
booths, paying as much as sixty dollars for three short, happy
days. Tables and chairs, pianos, lamps, and — most im-
portant of all — a sideboard are installed and a kitchen ex-

28o

SOUTHERN SPAIN

temporized in the rear. Then a dehghtful hospitahty is
extended to friends, acquaintances, and neij^hbors. Lunch-
eons, teas, and dinners fohow in quick succession, visits are
interchanged, in fact the social life of Seville is for three
davs brought hither bodily and carried on with unwonted
vigor and enthusiasm. At night we may see the life of the
casillas at its best, for then they are illuminated, and then
it is that daughters of the family dance — in full view of the
public eye — the fascinating dances of Andalusia. The music
of guitars and castanets, the laughter, lights, and youthful
voices, attract and hold the passer-by. Curtains are not im-
politely drawn, but instead, by tacit invitation, you and I
or any other stranger may join the admiring group of de-
lighted spectators that forms before the little house in which
the Senoritas of the rich and titled families are dancing more

EQUESTRIANS

SOUTHERN SPAIN

281

282

SOUTHERN SPAIN

VIL GUARD

for the delectation of the crowd than for the smaller circle
of their frignds. It is, however, only during this short
season of exuberant mirth that Spanish etiquette is thus

THE BUNUELO BOOTHS

SOUTHERN SPAIN

283

FROM THE COUNTRY

graciously relaxed. Here, as else-
where in Spain, the polished
policemen of the Civil
Guard, unlike ordinary po-
L% licemen, seem to be al-
ways at hand. Two by
two they always go, and
when patrolling lonely
roads, a regulation com-
pels them to walk twelve
paces distant one from
the other, to prevent the
possibility of being both sur-
prised at the same instant by
hidden malefactor. There are
about twenty thousand foot and five thousand mounted mem-
bers of this corps, and every one of them as far as my ex-
perience goes is gentlemanly, honest, and courageous.
Should one die in the discharge of duty, he knows that his
orphaned children will 1
for by the government
educated in a college c
Madrid. To the Civil
Guard is due in a
large measure the
decrease in that
brigandage, which
at one time was the
terror of the trav-
eler in Spain.

Let us now be
take ourselves to another
avenue where the ca
are rented bv a d:

Bl'NOLERAS

284

SOUTHERN SPAIN

" BUNTELOS, SKNOR ! "

of the much-talked-of
have a desire to taste
cookery, we accept
the pressing invi-
tation of the rather
forward damsels in
charge of one of
the buiiuelo
booths. We are
served w^ith cups of
chocolate and with
plates of rich, light,
delicious, round,
and well-browned,
red-hot fritters, not
unlike but superior
to the great Amer-
ican doughnut. In
the picture you can
see piles of them
on the left, fresh I v

class of people,
by those to
whom the feria
is a great annual
opportunity for
gain and not a
mere occasion for
the display of a
new gown or the
entertainment of
a host of friends.
We have ar-
rived in the streets
bunuclos, and as we naturally
that famous production of Spanish

^■■■|terf**^-«<»rfKt;~g,^^^

-•Mil
■ • 1 ■ .

pr "1 ,|„„^^'^ ^ ^ ■■ ) , j\.

^g^

^^H^ ' ^^^^^^^1

[«

'^wmmikyMmK^

SOUTHERN SPAIN

285

v^acas^i^i^ffl

4V '

-^ M^r^nh'-

•

^^mv >

1 ^1

fx^^

l^t

^i^'i ;■._

A TRIANA BKI-LE

dipped from a kettle of seethin.s;' f^rease by a serious-visaged
matron. So well did bufmelos fill a long-felt want with us
that we consumed innumerable dozens and were at a loss
to understand the reluctance of the Spanish public to go
and do likewise. Truly the fair bunoleras used every in-
ducement to attract and even gentle force to retain their
customers, but for some mysterious reason their blandish-
ments were vain, and many tempting piles of Spanish dough-
nuts grew chill and cold uneaten. The fact that we had
loyally dispatched a yeoman's share of bunuelos did not
protect us from the active campaign tactics of the other
waitresses. Our progress down the street was a series of
captures and escapes, until we were prepared to look with
pitv on the country lads who. while feebly resisting the
temptation to incur dii^^estion yet had not the necessary
courage to break loose from tlirir fair captors. The embar-
rassment of some c)f these rustics was [)itial)lc in \hc extreme.

286

SOUTHERN SPAIN

Having safely run the gauntlet of ungentle suasion and
rude argument, we leave the street to seek our traveling
companion, — a dignified delightful doctor from the classic
town of Boston, with whom we share a room in our hotel,
which like all other hostelries is at this season more than
overcrowded. We meet him strolling down a lantern-draped
and shady promenade, musing perchance upon distant beau-
ties of the Boston Common, perchance regretting that nc

FESTOONS OF MULTICOLORED MOONS

bakery of Boston beans has been installed upon these
grounds devoted to good cheer and revelry. We are deter-
mined that the doctor shall be consoled for lack of beans
by an abundance of brown buHuelos. We diplomatically
direct his steps to the street from which we have just es-
caped, maliciously anticipating his dismay at the un-Boston-
esque behavior of the Bunoleras whose sole desire is to
induce the public — by fair means or foul — to risk a case of

Photograph by Harlow U. Hit;inboth.-iiii

Tin-. CATIU'DRAI. ol' SI'AII.I.l-: AM) rili: CIKAl.DA

SOUTHERN SPAIN

2891

indigestion. Nor are we disappointed at the result of this
unfriendly betrayal of our staid companion; he is at once
marked as a newcomer, an unfilled receptacle for the surplus
bunuelos ! If our previous passing had been a troubled one,
this time it is indeed tumultuous. A dozen times he is
seized and held a prisoner ; a score of women young, old,
and middle-aged pursue, arrest, expostulate with, and, finally,
noting his stony Boston stare, release him.

"If these be Seville people, " he exclaims, " I much prefer
uncivil ones"; and this bad pun but proved to what a state of
desperation he had been driven by liis treatment here. At
last he yields ; enters a booth ; his captors then become as
gentle and polite as every damsel should be, and serve him
graciously with chocolate and cakes ; but wlu'n lie strix'es to
go, they make vain endeavors to retain him with winning
smiles and a grip upon his coat-tails. Those who affirm that
the Spanish people lack enterprise are referred to Dr.

2go

SOUTHERN SPAIN

A CONSTELLATION OF LANTERNS

We meantime wander on amid the ever-increasing throng,
passing the theaters of showmen and the tents of mounte-
banks, hstening to bhnd musicians, watching the dancing

girls. The din about us
is as deafening as that
upon an Exposition Mid-
way ; but here the noise
is a distinctly Spanish
noise, a mingling of

ARCHES OK GAS 1.A^ PS

SOUTHERN SPAIN

291

Spanish music,
Spanish oaths and
exclamations, twang-
ing guitars and clack-
ing castanets.

But now the day
is waning, and city-
ward the crowd
departs — to dine, to
dress, and to return
anon by night through
the gay illuminated
streets, where be-
neath arches of glow-
ing gas-jets moves a
river of humanity.

Till late we wan-
der from street to street and from park to garden, discovering
everywhere a happy population, enjoying with a Latin zest
the greatest fete of the Andalusian year. We watch the

daughters of Seville s proud-
est families dance on the ter-
races of their casillas ; from

292

SOUTHERN SPAIN

the street we witness the grand balls given by the leading
clubs in their huge open-air pavilions. We find ourselves
now struggling with those everlasting builuelo sellers, now
idling in a retired corner of a leafy garden, or, again, pass-
ing as in a dream beneath a pyramid of brilliant lanterns
suspended like a multi-colored constellation in the night.
Even a pictured description of the Seville Fair will give you
but the faintest idea of that far-famed event. True, the

ON THE GRAND STAND

feria will not bear comparison with the great international
fairs of other lands ; it is, you must remember, but a local
festival — the most important of its kind in Spain. To the
stranger, however, it offers a unique attraction ; it gives him
in three days a clearer idea of the Spanish people than
he could gain by months of formal intercourse and study.
During the following days, society, as if to prove how cos-
mopolitan it is, forgets its Spanish pleasures and becomes
Anglomaniac After the bull-fights, after the dances and

SOUTHERN SPAIN

293

fiestas, come pigeon-shooting matches and a season of
horse-races. The ladies lay aside their lace Diaiitillas in
favor of the Parisian chapeaux ; the heavy swells exchange
their jackets and wide gray hats for high silk tiles and long
frock-coats. The Due d' Orleans, thanks to his long sojourn
on English soil, is the bright particular star of these occa-
sions. He plays the social king while w^aiting for a call
to play a more important kingly part.

AT THK RACHS

And now having told you of the bright side of the feria,
I turn with hesitation to another feature of the fete ; one
which to Spanish minds is all brightness and exhilaration, but
which to us presents only its dark and blood-stained aspect.

The IjuII Ring, the Plaza dc Toros must now claim our
attention. It is with hesitation that I lead you thither ; and
for two reasons, iirst, the doubts of my ability to present in
words tlui inii)ressi()ns there received ; and secondly, the fear
that those impressions, crudely formulated and perhaps too

294

SOUTHERN SPAIN

truthfully pictured, may offend or
shock a humane public. Yet
I assure you that the pic-
tures do but shadow the
^ horrors witnessed in the
ring. Those who have
attended many bull-
' fights will tell you
after I am done that
the half has not been
pictured nor been told.
As we arrive before the
entrance to the Plaza into
which an eager public is pour-
ing, let me confess that un-
like the average Anglo-Saxon
traveler, I do not sweepingly
condemn the spectacle. Is
our own race free from the reproach of inflicting suffering
in the name of sport ? We never dwell upon the pain re-

PICADORES

IM.A/ A 1)1. roi;<j

"•~^«i. J*i

HUH

rhotugraph by Buanchy

MANIKL GAKCIA, "ESrARTERO'

SOUTHERN SPAIN

297

suiting from the angler's skilful play, the sportsman's half-
successful shot. The Spaniard regards the tortures of the
dying bulls and of the disemboweled horses with the same
sportsmanlike complacency that characterizes the English
lord and lady or members of the Newport "smart set " when

THK PLAZA OF SEVILLE

witnessing the death struggles of the exhausted fox, torn
by the fangs of an excited pack. The wide world over
we shall find cruelty disguised as sport; hence let us look len-
iently upon the Spaniard who does but choose nobler
victims. Moreover he surrounds their sacrifice with a pomp
and a gorgeous pageantry that robs the scene of half its

298

SOUTHERN SPAIN

L^9;A\y^^\<J.^*\o<i^^^«\^^^^

horror ; and. to his credit be it said, the Spaniard is no
coward ; he stakes his Hfe against that of a redoubtable
antagonist. Many fatalities attest this fact.

Let us then enter the vast amphitheater wherein so many
tragedies have been enacted ; let us suppress the sickening
thought of ghastly sights to come ; let us prepare to study
calmly the Spanish public in its enjoyment of a brilliant
national sport; and — I do confess it — a fascinating game
of life or death. And it is here in force to-day, that Spanish
public ; before the opening of the Corrida twelve thousand
spectators will be massed in unbroken tiers around the
mighty arena, half of them being grilled on the stone seats
by the torrid sun. It has been said that " the transit of the
sun over the plaza, — the Zodiacal progress into Taurus —
is certainly not the worst calculated astronomical observa-
tion in Spain ; the line of shadow defined on the arena
being accurately marked by a gradation of prices." We
have wisely taken places on the shady side — dc sombra —
and from our box we see the graceful tip of the Giralda,
delicately outlined against the April sky.

SOUTHERN SPAIN

299

The Giralda is always a spectator. Better to study our
neighbors and the light itself, we descend to the lowest row
of seats bordering the circular alley of refuge for the lighters.
Around us are the amateurs of tauromachia, /os a/icio/iados,
men who follow the contests with an enthusiasm akin to
that which animates our fellow-countrymen at foot-ball
games. They know the brave toreros^ from the humble
chulos to the picadorcs and world-famed matadorcs ; they
are good judges of the bulls' fine points, and know the rules
and precedents of the cruel sport as well as a professional.
There in the boxes we behold the votaries of fashion, and
yonder in the royal box sit the families of Montpensier and
Orleans, the little princesses unmoved by the thought of
what they are about to witness. Below is the place re-
served for the president of the course, whose word is law
for the occasion. His word is, however, frequently influ-
enced by the will of an excited audience, whose clamorous
desires are not to be disregarded by even the most deter-
mined of presiding officers. The suppressed murmur, which
has been growing in volume as the crowd increases in

SlBfillliiilitiiiilllliiii,

^. li^rM

Till-. liNTKY

300

SOUTHERN SPAIN

density, now rises to a high pitch, — there is a sudden
ranging of spectators, a burst of martial music, and all faces
are turned in one direction, as out into the arena sweeps the
richly dressed Ciiadrilla, which includes the bravest and
most famous heroes of the ring. This processional entry is
the first event of the long anticipated season of three con-
secutive d^ys of bloody combats. Seville is happy.

A MOMENT S RESPITE

At no Other season, save perhaps at Easter time, and in no
other place are finer Corridas given than during the April
fair here in Seville. For these Corridas of the feria are
reserved the fiercest and most formidable bulls, — to shine at
these events is the ambition of every leader in the art ; we may
therefore rest assured that to-day's spectacle will be per-
fect of its kind. Heroism and horror will delight the crowd.

The members of the Cuadrilla salute the presidential
box, then form in line of battle after having exchanged their
richly embroidered capes for common ones of red and yellow.

SOUTHERN SPAIN

301

Then trumpets sound, the door of the toril is thrown
open, and amid the breathless silence the first bull makes his
entry. He pauses, dazed by the glare, then espying a chulo
waving a red cape, he charges at him. Seldom does the
capeador await the first onslaught of the animal ; instead,
running lightly, he vaults the barrier, and from the safety of
the circular alley between it and the wall of the arena

THE PLAY OF THK CAPA

watches the bull exhaust his first angry force upon the solid
wooden panels. Impotent is the fury of the bull.

Meanwhile a mounted picador is urging his frightened,
miserable horse into position to receive a charge. The bull
being accustomed to equine companions during his life in the
open country, at first looks upon the horse without hostility
and turns away. Perhaps the bull a second time ))ursues a
fleeing capeador, who this time may turn and face his
advancing foe, and throwing the rapa out to right or left,
stand there unarmed, while the bull harmlessly tosses the airy,

302

SOUTHERN SPAIN

alluring mantle with his fearful horns. A little of this play
exasperates the bull ; he looks about for some more tangible
object to attack. His eyes are fixed upon a horse. Still he
hesitates to harm a fellow-quadruped. At this moment the
sturdy picador spurs on his trembling Rosinante, and, his
lance in position, advances upon the bull. The latter with
lowered horns still stands there undecided. The horse's
right eye is tightly bandaged, so that he does not see the

AWAITING THE ATTACK

danger, yet his quivering members tell of his instinctive fear.
A few provoking movements of the lance, and, aroused at last,
the bull springs forward, and with awful force, lifts horse and
rider on his horns. The picador has, however, received the
bull upon his lance, fixing it just between the shoulders.
With all his strength he bears upon his weapon, but as the
blade is purposely protected so that it may not cut too
deeply, the wound inflicted is but a tritiing one ; the picador's
sole effort being to repulse the bull, to cause him to retire,

MAN AND HORSE IN AIR

SOUTHERN SPAIN

305

and thus save the
horse and rider
from being borne
down. To us it
seems as if the
rider's leg" must
be transfixed up-
on a horn, and
we are glad to
know that be-
neath his heavy
leathern trousers
the picador is ar-
mored like a
battle-ship, with
steel. But are
not the horns,
then, buried in
the horse 's Hank ?
Almost invariably
they are. The other fighters, who have been standing by,
now^ draw off the bull by means of waving capas, for the
weakness of the wounded horse may render critical the
picador's position. In this case the horse has been but
lightly lacerated ; he is still strong enough to stand,
and so is kept in the ring to serve again as target for
the horns. Meantime two other picadores engage the
bull. And he, having once smelled blood, requires little
inducement to return again and again to the attack.
An almost fatal charge occurs right at our feet, — the
horse is pierced by two sharp blood-stained horns and lifted
with his rider high into the air. The bull lowers his lu>ad.
but cannot disengage it ; nor can the horse escape, nor
can the j)icador avail aught with his si)ear; and those about

■JO

THE SHOCK

3o6

SOUTHERN SPAIN

us niarmur " cava/Io miicrto, " "a dead horse, " and we turn
aside our faces, and then we look again that we may know
the worst. The horse and rider are pushed by the bhnded
bull to the very limits of the ring ; the picador is crushed
against the barrier, and then lifted over it, unconscious, by
his comrades, w^hile the horse, at least free from his assailant,
begins a frantic death-race around the arena, his entrails drag-

RESCUING A PICADOR

ging, leaping high in his agony at every bound. Thrice does
the bull arrest that mad career, charging and tossing the muti-
lated horse each time it dashes blindly past him. And this in-
cident is considered comic by the vast audience. The people
rise to their feet and laugh until the tears come to their eyes.
The papers next day allude to it as an "original and amusing
incident. " Meantime the picador, recovering from a fainting
spell, is led past us. Some one reproaches him for leaving

SOUTHERN SPAIN

307

FINMSHKD

the arena; and he, looking up
with a sneer upon his
sensual but deter-
mined face, replies
in a tone that can
not leave a doubt
of his regret at
going, "Men
are not made of
steel. "

"But what
becomes of the
wounded horses?
you may ask. On
circumstances their
fate depends. If the
attendants find that the an-

I.KI) OIT TO Din

3o8

SOUTHERN SPAIN

imal has still sufficient life, the saddle is re-adjusted, and the
rider mounts again. If not, if the beast cannot be urged
to rise, a short sharp knife inserted in the brain ends the
brief minutes of torture, which are perhaps less cruel than
the long years of ill-treatment and overwork which would
have been allotted to the horse had it not been bought
by the contractor who supplies equine victims to make these
Spanish holidays. You may ask indignantly, "And do the
Spanish really love these sights ? ' ' Not so ; they seldom see
them; their eyes are following the enraged bull, the clever
agile fighters. The horse, once gored, is instantly forgotten.
The chulos lead away the mangled animal unnoticed. It
is only the unaccustomed Anglo-Saxon eye that dwells on
its suffering and death, and thus misses the marvelous feats
of dexterity and skill performed by the toreros in trans-
ferring the scene of the combat to another quarter. Often,
however, these very animals, after external traces of their

WITH SWORD AND
MULETA

SOUTHERN SPAIN

309

injuries have been partially disguised
by sewing up the wounds, make their
appearance in a succeeding fight, — on the same
day, of course, to perish on the horns of other bulls.

But to our relief the clarion sounds again, announcing
that the work of picadores and horses is now ended and
calling the banderilleros into action. Their play is the most
agreeable because the least cruel feature of the fight. The
weapons called in Spanish banderillas are slender wooden
wands, decked with gaily colored paper-lace and furnished
with a metal point so formed that when once plunged into
the fiesh it cannot be detached. A banderillero on the ex-
treme right waits with a pair of these gay torture-darts, while
a capeador provokes the bull to fiercer anger with his cloak.

The animal, rushing on, tosses aside the cloak, and then
stands face to face with his new foe, who brandishes in

3IO

SOUTHERN SPAIN

each hand a dainty paper-covered banderilla. The man
and beast rush each upon the other, hearts stand still, and
then there burst forth acclamations loud and long ; for at
the moment of what might have proved a tragic meeting,
the man, gracefully rising on tiptoe between the lowered
horns, fixes his darts with superb accuracy into the shoulders
of the bull and deftly steps aside, leaving the animal to con-
tinue his unavailing rush, to bellow and madly to try to shake

THK FINAL STROKE

from his tiesh the pain inflicting weapons. Three pairs of
banderillas are usually placed; not always without mishap,
for I have seen many a jacket rent by a too rapid horn,
many a torero rolled in the dust only to rise unhurt and
recommence his play, to the delight of breathless spectators.
Now comes the third and final act, the duel between the
bull and the Matador, or Espada, the highest rank to which
a torero can aspire. Like poets, Espadas, or swordsmen, are
born not made, and Spain can boast of but few men of this

SOUTHERN SPAIN

311

PLAUDITS FOR GIERRITA

class. At the
head of them
stands Rafael
G u e r r a or
(riicrrita as
he is known
in the ring.
The rewards
of the Espada
are not to be

despised. Guerrita, we are told, makes in one year about
sixty thousand dollars, and dispatches about two hundred
bulls. Since becoming matador he has killed no fewer
than fourteen hundred bulls, and his savings represent six
hundred thousand dollars. Armed simply with a slender
sword and the muleta, — a square of red cloth attached to a
light stick, — he begins a duel with the now thoroughly
enraged antagonist. He must, however, show his skilful play
before attempting to end the tragic combat. It is here the
stranger is least
disgusted and
most deeply in-
terested, for the
play is fair, the
chances equal;
and we know that
it is to be a duel
to the death, for
the matador does
not enjoy the
privilege of seek-
ing safety behind
the barrier. The
brute directs his

HACK IHK 11 A I

312

SOUTHERN SPAIN

fierce attacks at the red cloth, and on the proper maneuv-
ering of that bit of rag depends the hfe of the Espada. With
it he causes the furious animal to charge, to retreat, to turn,
or to leap — a dozen times he will provoke attack, as many
times he will by a simple movement, almost without quitting
a given spot, escape a horrible death. At last, grasping the
sword, — so slender and flexible and keen, — he stands face to

THE EXIT OF THE BULL

SOUTHERN SPAIN

313

EEF FROM THE BILL RING

face with his tormented foe, ready for the final stroke. There is
a charge, a lowering of a gigantic pair of horns, a leashing of
a polished blade, a burst of thunderous applause, and the bull
drops to his knees, sways feebly to and fro, then with a last
convulsive fall, after having vomited a stream of blood, he
dies — protestingly. The sword hilt is seen protruding from a
bleeding shoulder, — the point is buried in the heart. The
dicstro then acknowledges the plaudits of the crowd, while a
short knife is plunged by an attendant into the bull's brain to
complete the work begun by the torero. Sometimes,
however, even the most skilled Espadas fail to dispatch their
enemv with a single blow ; two, three, e\en four unsuccessful

314

SOUTHERN SPAIN

thrusts are made ; the sword may strike a bone and break ;
the onslaught of the bull may not be of sufficient speed and
force to drive the blade in deep enough ; or, the sword may
enter to the very hilt without fatal effect, its point not having
reached a vital spot. In cases such as these the diestro must
recommence his play, draw out the sword, or with a second
one attempt to save his reputation. Of the three dozen bulls

Photograph hy Harlow D. Higinliotham

SARCOPHAGE OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA

which I saw slain in Spain, but six were properly dis-
patched. Many died only after receiving repeated thrusts;
others, falling from exhaustion, were turned over to the attend-
ants who, with their small and murderous knives, ended the
tragedy ingloriously. The rare successful stroke is, however,
the signal for an ovation ; hats, caps, cigars, and flowers are
showered upon the smiling victor as he makes his usual

Photograph by Harlow D. H'ufinbofhnm

TIIF. TOMI! OI" THF. " CATIIOIIC klXCS," CRAXAnA

SOUTHERN SPAIN

317

triumphant tour around the ring. The flowers and cigars
he keeps, the hats he gathers up and tosses back skilfully
to their enthusiastic owners. No American hats were thrown.
While cheers and music fill the air, the corpses
of the slaughtered horses are dragged out of the arena
by teams of mules. Then comes the turn of the chief
victim of the game. At a gallop he is dragged around the

BOABDII, AND THE "CAini>LH KIN

ring, finally making a pitiable exit. We can scarcely believe
that the stiffened carcass is that of the superb bull, who made
so proud and defiant an entry not twenty minutes since.

The surface of the arena is now raked over here and
there. A wheelbarrow of sand is sprinkled on the bloody
places, the trumpet sounds, the picadores again appear, the
toril door is once more opened, and the drama is begun
afresh. Six times between the hours of four and six is the
play repeated. Six bulls are killed; and if you wish to know

3i8

SOUTHERN SPAIN

what then becomes of them, come with me to this butcher-
shop of the Plaza dc Toros where already, before the audi-
ence has left the amphitheater, there are hanging, neatly
dressed, the carcasses of five of the bovine bravos of the
afternoon, while number six is being rapidly prepared for
market. We become vegetarians for the ensuing week.

Local meat-merchants, so we are told, purchase the
beef at auction and sell it to the poor; for although it is
black and tough, it is not considered unfit for human con-
sumption. As to the slain horses — pardon just one more
unpleasant picture — they are deposited in a courtyard to
which the ragmuffins of the street have free entrance, and
where they count with eagerness the victims of the day,
showing not the slightest aversion, but instead scrambling
over the bodies, examining and commenting on the wounds.

Photograph by Harlow D. lliginLutliaiu

TWO TOWERS OK THE AI.HAMBRA

SOUTHERN SPAIN

319

Photograph by Harlow D. Higinbotham

A TOWER

praising tlie bulls who could make such or such a rent, and
thus consoling themselves for having missed the fight itself.
To-day there are no fewer than seventeen dead horses
as a result of the Corrida. On another occasion I saw
twenty-three perish in the ring. "What do they do with
all these bodies.^" we ask. A boy, noting our expressions
of disgust, replies in Spanish, " Oh, they make sausages and
ship them to America!" And now one word about the
fate of Esfxirlrro, who shared that d;iy the honors with

;2o

SOUTHERN SPAIN

Photugraph by l£arlow U. Higmbut

IHK GKNERALIFE

Giicrrita, and who was considered by some his equal, by
others his superior. While witnessing his marvelous feats
of daring and dexterity, we little thought that ere the season
closed he should meet with a tragic death in a grand "bull
feast" at Madrid. Having been slightly wounded by a bull,
he yet insisted on continuing his play ; he poised the sword,
the brute rushed at him, and to the horror of the ten thou-
sand people the famous Matador was caught, lifted, tossed,
then helplessly rolled in the dust, and finally before the
paralyzed cuadrilla could rush to his assistance, the bull
had plunged a reeking horn into his body. The Catholic
priest who is at every plaza, ever in waiting with the sacra-
ment, was called upon ; the surgeon's hand was powerless
to save the life of Espartcro. A nation mourned his death
as it would not have mourned the death of a prime minister.

SOUTHERN SPAIN

321

Leaving Seville with its present-day spectacles and pag-
eants, we turn to quiet old Granada, with its memories of
a glorious past, — its memories of the Moors, of King
Boabdil, and of Ferdinand and Isabella. And where should
Ferdinand and Isabella more fittingly be entombed than in
the royal chapel of the grand Cathedral of Granada ? Here,
side by side, we see their effigies, surmounting a splendid
mausoleum of Carrara marble. Their daughter Juana and
her husband Philip sleep close at hand upon another marvel-
ously carved tomb. The superb iron screen, designed in
1522 by Bartolome', is in good keeping with the dignity of
this hallowed place, while as a work of art it vies in its
perfection with the sculptured sepulchers themselves.

We descend into
the crypt, and look
with reverence upon
the identical coffins in
which rests the mor-
tal substance of him
whom Shakespeare
called the " wisest
King that ever ruled
in Spain," and of
her deemed by the
bard, "The Queen of
Earthly Queens.
"A small space for
so much greatness,"
as Emperor Charles
V once said. Un-
like most royal burial-
places this one has
never in the course
of centuries been
21

JIAN I)K l.\KA

SOUTHERN SPx\IN

desecrated by the hand of
ueror or revolution-
The fair, pious,
gentle Isabella and
her wise consort for
almost four hun-
dred years have
slept peacefully
in the midst of the
city from which
their armies had
so gloriously driven
forth the Saracen.
Although now boasting
centuries of Chris-
tian rule, Granada is still
dominated by the citadel
of her moslem monarchs.
The mention of the name
"Granada" still evokes visions of Oriental splendor, visions
of fairy palaces and giant towers, visions of that far-off age
when Spain was yet a part of the Islamic Empire. Who can
say ' ' Granada ' ' without hearing the word echoed back with
another sound, — " Alhambra ' ? Our first vision of the Moorish
palace is not. however, one to wake enthusiasm. We see
only some crumbling towers, all devoid of beauty, perched on
the flank of a densely wooded height, and guarding a collec-
tion of unattractive little structures and a huge square mass of
heavy masonry, — the unfinished, roofless palace of that royal
vandal, Charles the Fifth, to whom posterity owes a debt
of deepest hatred for his many ruthless profanations of the
beautiful. Below us are the houses of Granada looking
humbly up at the Alhambra Hill; far in the background rise
the snowy crests of the Sierra, while if we change our post

APPROACH TO THE ALHAMBRA
Photograph by Harlow D. Higinbotham

SOUTHERN SPAIN

323

of observation, we may look out over the city to where the
lar-famed Vega stretches away in vapory indistinctness.
The Vega is as luxuriantly productive to-day as when under
the skilful irrigation of the Moor, its agricultural richness
tempted his Christian neighbors to enter in and possess the
land. Our gaze returns instinctively to the Alhambra
height, for we are burning with impatience to find ourselves
within its bewitching halls.

Let us first, however, return to our hotel to breakfast
in its garden on the slope of the Alhambra Hill. The Hotel
de Siete Suclos stands at the base of the old Moorish tower
of the seven stories, from which it takes its name. This
terrace lies almost in the shadow of the Alhambra walls, and
from it we may look down the long avenue, descending city-
vv^ards, and shaded by the fine old elm-trees brought hither
and planted by the Duke of Wellington. We are in a place
of quietude and freshness. Tall trees shut out the glare of a
June sun; murmuring waters help us to forgetfulness of the
parched and dusty city far below. We feel that we could
live here forever and be content.
the Hotel Washington Irving,
largely patronized from pa-
triotic motives by oui fel-
low-countrymen. The
houses are both goo
and ideally located
In the shaded av-
enue between the
two facades we
shall tind groups
of gypsies eager
to perform,
for a con-
sidera-

Across the way rises

Photo^Tiph hv Il.irlmv n. IIi(rinbotham

LIONS NOT KNOWN TO NATIRM IIISTORV

324

SOUTHERN SPAIN

Photograph by Harlow D. llii^'inbutliani

THE KING OF THE GRANADA GYPSIES

tion, dances more or less graceful. Conspicuous among
these dusky and insistent beggars is the self-styled King
of the Gypsies who, with a stagy dignity, accosts the
traveler, informs him of his rank and state, sells him his
portrait for two pesetas, and offers to pose before a kodak
for a dollar. Courageous is the stranger who refuses to
pay tribute to this picturesque old monarch. But the sight
of him is worth whatever it may cost ; his brigand face and
raiment, his lordly and commanding air, speak to us of the
rom.antic past, — he is in harmony with his surroundings.
And now the guides appear to press their services upon
us, having with unerring judgment recognized new-comers.
Guides, as a rule, I heartily abhor ; they rob you of delightful
first impressions ; they lead you blindfold along a beaten
path, force you to look upon the wonders of the world
through their spectacles of ennui ; they make the traveler a
slave. Not so with Juan de Lara, the handsome youth who

SOUTHERN SPAIN

325

now looks out upon you from the page. True, without so
much as asking my consent, he had appointed himself my
guide and faithful follower ; yet so charmingly did he com-
mend himself to me that I had not the heart to bid him
hence. He spoke French with a pretty southern accent,
while Spanish in his mouth was like the music of the ever-
murmuring streams that flow beneath the elms of the Al-
hambra. His ambition was to come to the United States,
where, like a thousand others, he believed that fortune waited
for him. During one of our rambles in the city proper Juan
paused before a humble doorway, and asked me if I cared
to enter and repose in my own house. " J/v house .^ " I
query. " Yes ; of course / live here, but the house is yo/ns.
Then I remembered that it is part of Spanish courtesy to
offer to one 's guest the ownership of all one's goods. Juan

riifitoeraph by ll.irlow I), lliijinliolhri

iiKr: 11I1-: walks of fez

326

SOUTHERN SPAIN

' — " the last sis^h of

then presented me to his mother, and to his four pretty sisters,
all doing needle-work. 1 enjoyed a most amusing visit, strug-
gling bravely with my imported Spanish to answer all the
curious questions which fell from pretty Andalusian lips. In
that family of working people I found a delicate refinement
of speech and manner that would have graced a far more
pretentious home.

When I was leaving Granada, Juan asked my destination.
" Paris, "' was my reply. " O Paris ! " exclaimed the boy,
" c/ ultimo suspiro del A)}icrica)io !
the American ! ' '

It was with Juan de Lara
as my cicerone that I first
approached Granada s fa-
mous fortress. For the rA-
hambra was primarily a
fortress, grim and forbid-
ding, while the lovely pal-
ace to which it owes its
fame is simply a royal resi-
dence within the fortifica-
tions, a retreat in which
the Moorish princes could
dream of love, secure
from the attacks of ene-
mies. A line of walls
and towers stretches
■completely around
the border of the hill,
forming thus a strong-
Jtiold, which in the
Moorish days con-
tained an army of
forty thousand men.

Pliotiijirapli by Harlow D. Hiijinbotham

A MOORISH GATH

SOUTHERN SPAIN

327

It awed into sub-
mission the tur-
bulent population
of Granada, which
then numbered
half a million, be-
ing' six times as
great as to-day.

The towers all
bear suggestive
names, and to
each is attached
some fabulous tale
in which Infantas,
captive Princess-
es, and Christian
knights play their
romantic parts.
Advancing, the
Torre de los Pi-
cos, or battle-
mented Tower ,
comes in view. The ruinous condition of the walls, the
frowning aspect of the towers, the air of neglect, and the sug-
gestion of vanished greatness, combine to render our impres-
sions identical with those attendant upon arrival beneath the
ramparts of Fez, the Sacred City of Morocco, where the
descendants of the builders of this Oriental i)ile are striving to
maintain the shadow of the former power of the Moor.

Let me confess that I do not dwell with pleasure on my
first walk through the famous interior courts and chambers of
the Alhambra. All that I remember is that, in company with
a small band of tourists, I was rushed by a guide in uniform
through a confusing fairxland ; that I listened to studied

Photograph by Harlow D. Higinbotham

A WINDOW

328

SOUTHERN SPAIN

explanations in in-
different French ;
looked out of win-
dows upon scenes
of beauty, and
was reconducted
to the door where
fees were given,
thanks returned,
and the whole
party ushered out.
Such was my first
unsatisfactory
and disappoint-
ing visit to the
Moorish wonder-
land, — a visit to
which I had look-
ed forward for
many years. But
I was resolved
not to leave Gra-
nada until I had visited the Alhambra in my own way ;
until I had wandered in freedom through its mazes ; until
I had found opportunity to sit me down in some secluded
corner and, undisturbed, read over once again those Tales
of the Alhambra, which all of us have known from child-
hood. True, one may secure a permit ^' Por cstiidiar,''
" to study " in the palace; but all day long, from nine o'clock
till dusk, the tread of pilgrim feet is heard, and bands of
"Cookies " and "Gazers " and other guide-book-laden tour-
ists, file in an almost unbroken procession through its pre-
cincts. Families are being photographed, seated upon the
lions of the famous court; curious ones are inspecting with a

Photogrnph by Harlow D. Higinhotliani

GLIMPSES OP" SUNSHINE AND VERDIRE

SOUTHERN SPAIN

329

magnifying-glass the alleged blood stains in the pavement or
measuring the columns with tapes ; would-be vandals are
striving to escape the watchful vigilance of the impassive
guards. So you see the Spirit of Romance must, during the
show hours of the day, retire to some mysterious and seldom
opened chamber to sally forth at night when pale moonbeams
are the only visitors, or in early morning when the first soft
glow of sunrise steals through the marble forests of slender
graceful pillars in the deserted courts.

PhotoKriph by H.irlow I). lli;:iiil).

ARAHKSyrES

330

SOUTHERN SPAIN

I find mvself next morning- mounting- the silent height of
the Alhambra, as the first rays of the sun are saluting- it. I
approach the massive Gate of Justice, and look upon the
famous symbols carved above its archways. There is the
mystic hand, — symbol of Power and Providence, — then
on the inner arch the key, — the key of knowledge where-
with God opens the hearts of true believers. " When the
hand shall reach down and grasp the
kev, then, and then only shall Granada
fall a prey to Christian hosts, ' ' had been
the oft-repeated boast of
Moorish kings. The
hand is still an empty
hand with fingers
outstretched, and
the key remains
un grasped — yet
the power of the
Moors is vanished.
Passing the gate-
way I discover

Photograph by Harl.nv D. Iliginlioth

THE GATE OF JISTICE

SOUTHERN SPAIN

331

Photograph by Harlow D. Higinboth

SPANISH SWORD AND SCEPTER

at his doorway the chief guardian of the inner palace. The
hour of six has not yet rung ; no one is astir besides the
guardian save an old woman who, with a score of goats, has
paused at his request to till a mug with goat 's milk freshly
drawn in full view of the purchaser. Seizing my opportunity
I enter into conversation with the pair; and when the old
dame has departed, the guardian does not re-enter his fairy
palace unaccompanied, for he — may Allah prosper him ! —
accepts a proffered fee, slyly admits a happy stranger to his
wonderland, and then, bidding me be silent, steals away
to his apartments. Thus it was I found myself for a few
brief hours master of the Alhambra. Likt; our lo\ed com-
patriot, Washington Irving, I had succeeded to the vacant
throne of the ill-fated king Boabdil. I^^or three delicious
hours I was (tloiw in the Alhambra.

The first court, that of the Myrtles, was silent and de-
serted ; I almost feared to move, to break the stilhiess with

332

SOUTHERN SPAIN

my tread upon the pavement. I could not realize my good
fortune ; I dared not enter into the enjoyment of my little
reign, trembling lest I should wake again to find it but a
continuation of my dream. Finally, however, I convince my-
self that I am really awake, that the Alhambra is my own
until the bells of the many Christian churches far below shall
sound the hour of nine, and waft away the spell of solitude
and silence which hovers in the magic atmosphere about me.
The Spirits of Romance and Beauty now willingly become

By permission

SUNSHINE AND SHADOWS

SOUTHERN SPAIN

333

my guides and lead me to another court, the name of which
I need not even speak ; we know it, and have known it for
many years. In the sweet morning Hght we do not see the
wounds which time and decay have here inflicted ; we see
the court in all the unimpaired beauty of its early days ; it
seems to us as perfect as when the builders inscribed in
ornamental characters round its arches, " May lasting power
and glory imperishable be the inheritance of the master of
this palace. "

I I

« ff

W f-;

.?e

^jiLi.j.jiMiiiir m

mmm

riioto^rapli l,y Ilarluu I). 1 1 i : iul.. Ili.in.

KNI RANCH lo I UK IIAI.I. OI' INK A.MnASSAnoRS

334

SOUTHERN SPAIN

Before us is
the famous foun-
tain. Its lower
basin is supported
by twelve carved
lions. As if in
obedience to the
Moslem injunc-
tion against the
creation of the
likeness of any
living" thing, the
iVrabic sculptor
has not slavishly
imitated nature's
forms, and these
are likenesses of
no beast known to
Natural History.
And still they are
highly decorative,
possessing benign
expressions, — expressions which render unnecessary the as-
surances contained in the closing line of the long inscription
carved upon the fountain : "Fear not in thy contemplation
while gazing upon these rampant lions, they are without
life and without ferocity. "

Word pictures of the various interiors of the Alhambra
would be superfluous even were it possible to paint in phrase
its beautiful apartments, corridors, and courts. Who does
not know the famous Hall of the Ambassadors, high-ceiled,
noble of proportion ? Who has not lingered in imagination
at the windows of the Mirador of Lindaraja, or feasted the
eyes upon the arabesques of the Hall of the Two Sisters ?

l'h.itot;raph by 11. 1 . McGillicudily

DARK CORRIDORS AND SUNNY COURTS

SOUTHERN SPAIN

335

The indescribable delicacy and daintiness of Arabian architec-
ture charms and delights us after the gloomy solidity of the
Gothic structures reared by the conquering Spaniards.

It is said, I know not how truly, that it is the custom of
the descendants of the Moors who once dwelt within this
fortress and palace, to petition Allah that they may one
day repossess it and dwell again in the earthly paradise.
Americans, who by virtue of Washington Irving 's poetic
pages, must ever feel a sense of ownership in the beautiful
Alhambra, look upon the acropolis of Granada as a shrine
to which they owe a pilgrimage ; and surely, not all ' ' good
Americans" will "go to Paris when they die. " Some of
the more romantic of our disembodied compatriots will — if
choice be allowed them — haunt the towers and halls and
battlements of the storied Alhambra. Certainly, the artists
and the lover of the beautiful must ever regret the Christian
conquest of this exotic kingdom of the Moors.

336

SOUTHERN SPAIN

Pathetic indeed were the fortunes of the Moors of Spain,
— the builders of this lovely pile. They brought to the
Peninsula a civilization higher than any it had ever known.
The land that they had subjugated, they ruled with dignity,
nitelligence, and wisdom for seven centuries, and then they
passed away, bequeathing to the country of their adoption
the most romantic pages of its history and its fairest monu-
ment, the Alhambra of Granada.

jS^JM^.

<i)Mi)iiiii>.

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