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By SAMUEL S. COX.

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G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, NEW YORK AND LONDON.

THE

ISLES OF THE PRINCES;

OR,

THE PLEASURES OF PRINKIPO

SAMUEL S. £OX

LATE UNITED STATES MINISTER TO TURKEY, AND AUTHOR OF " BUCKEYE ABROAD ; "

"WINTER SUNBEAMS;" "WHY WE LAUGH;" "FREE LAND AND FREE TRADE;"

"ARCTIC SUNBEAMS;" "ORIENT SUNBEAMS;" "THREE DECADEV OF

FEDERAL LEGISLATION ; " " DIVERSIONS OF A DIPLOMAT IN

TURKEY ; " ETC.

" Summer isles of Eden, lying in deep, purple spheres of sea."

Tennyson.

With Map and Illustrations.

NEW YORK & LONDON
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

1887

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

1887

Press of

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
New York

TO MRS. JULIA A. COX.

THIS volume faintly describes the delights of
our Grecian home at Prinkipo, among the Isles of
the Princes. It is intended as a souvenir and
record for each of us. It recalls our pleasant
sojourn in those classic isles, and the many cour-
tesies bestowed upon us, — " strangers in a strange
land." We both desire to give our appreciation
and thanks a form more substantial than that of a
memory merely. Here we can attempt this, and
make our response in grateful recognition of the
kindness with which we were received and the
happiness of our sojourn.

It is fit, therefore, that to you, my dear wife, I
should dedicate this volume ; for if we have
achieved any measure of success, socially or other-
wise, in our island home, may I not say that it is
due to those qualities of kindness and complai-
sance which you possess, and which have made
our lives one in an ever increasing circle of
felicity ?

S. S. Cox.

PREFACE.

THIS little volume is the episode of a summer's
enjoyment and observation among the Princes
Isles, in the old Propontis. It is intended to be
a recital of the many diversive excursions in and
around these islands and the adjacent places in
Asia and Europe. It is supplementary to a more
complete account of the author's experience while
minister of the United States to Turkey. That
account, in its fulness, is to be found in a volume
entitled " Diversions of a Diplomat in Turkey,"
published by C. L. Webster & Co., of New York
City.

These Isles of the Princes lie in sight of Stam-
boul and its splendors, and of the mountains of
Asia, dominated by the Mysean Olympus. They
are glorious in physical loveliness. They are still
the "Isles of Greece," although under Ottoman
rule. Out of their blue waters, at morn and
eve, the beauty of the Grecian myth arises, to
grace the isles with her smiles. Upon them burn
" the larger constellations." They are fitly named
" Isles of Princes. " Upon them the palaces of the

M505442

vi PREFACE.

princes of old Byzantium were erected. Here,
too, were their monasteries and prisons. The
relics of these lines of civil and ecclesiastical
empire are nearly all faded ; but the monas-
teries of the Orthodox Greek Church still hold
here their eminences, as well by virtue of their
antique titles as by their superb situations.

Under the light of these associations, and with
the fantastic glimmer of human caprice and pas-
sion which the pages of Gibbon best picture, and
under the constantly recurring phases of the
"Eastern Question," the summer of 1886 was
passed by the writer.

The impressions herein recorded cannot, per-
haps, be of more than fleeting interest to the
reader. Their very diversity indicates the sepa-
rate and distinct hues of a prism, and these give
their colors to the author's pages.

S. S. Cox.

NEW YORK, May i, 1887.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER. PAGE

I. THE ISLES OF THE PRINCES IN THE PROPONTIS —

THEIR GOVERNMENT A*ND PEOPLE i

II. ISLES OF THE PRINCES — THEIR GEOGRAPHY AND

HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS 18

III. HEALTH AND OTHER ATTRACTIONS OF PRINKIPO . 30

IV. HOME LIFE IN PRINKIPO — OUR NEIGHBORS —

LITTLE FOLKS — FISHERMEN AND SONGS . 43
V. PRINKIPO — ITS GARDENS AND VILLAS . . 69

VI. PRINKIPO — No RUNNING WATER — STRANGE
NOISES — THE VOCIFEROUS DONKEY — THE

BIRDS 78

VII. COMPOSITE PEOPLE OF PRINKIPO — OLD CUSTOMS

AND REVELS — ITALIAN INFLUENCE ~T .96

VIII. PRINKIPO— ITS MONASTERY OF ST. GEORGE . 117
IX. THE GREEK AND OTHER MONASTERIES OF THE

ORIENT ^

X. OUR NEIGHBORS OF THE CHRISTOS MONASTERY 140
XI. TRIP TO HALKI, ISLE OF COPPER — GREEK COL-
LEGES— SPLENDID SCENERY . . . .154
XII. ANTIGONE AND PROTI — HISTORIC AND OTHER

INCIDENTS 180

XIII. PLATI AND OXIA — SIR HENRY BULWER'S FATAL

LITTLE ISLE — His DIPLOMACY AND HIS ECCEN-
TRICITIES . ...... 189

XIV. PRINKIPO AS A HERMITAGE — CLOISTERED AMEN-

ITIES— A RICH LIBRARY 219

XV. THE LIBRARY UNDER NEW ASPECTS . . . 233

vii

Vlll

CONTENTS.

XVI. INFERNAL FIRE AND LALLA ROOKH — DIPLO-
MACY— THE ROMANCE AND POETRY OF PETRO-
LEUM 249

XVII. JAUNT TO THE PALACE OF BEYLERBEY — ITS ASSOCIA-
TIONS, MENAGERIE AND TIGER — RULES FOR A
TIGER HUNT .......

XVIII. ACROSS THE CHANNEL OF PRINKIPO — HANNIBAL

AND HIS GRAVE

XIX. ASIAN SHORES — NIOEA AND NICOMEDIA .
XX. BROUSSA — ITS ENTERPRISE AND HISTORY — MOUNT
OLYMPUS .......

XXI. EUROPEAN SHORE — SAN STEFANO AND THE

TREATY 329

XXII. PRINKIPO — ITS GREEK AND OTHER WOMEN . 338

XXIII. TH.E TURKISH WOMEN — A PRINCESS OF EGYPT

INDEED — AN ESCAPADE . . . -354

XXIV. FAREWELL TO PRINKIPO AND ITS PLEASURES . 369

264

287
302

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

VIEW OF PRINKIPO Frontispiece

ALBANIAN POLICE ........ 14

MAP OF THE BOSPHORUS AND PRINCES ISLES . . l8

PEDDLER OF MEATS ........ 52

ICE-CREAM PEDDLER 6p

WATER-CARRIERS 70

DONKEY RESTING HIS HEAD IN AN EGYPTIAN TEMPLE . 88

JACK AND GRIZZLY FIGHT 90

THE ARABY-TURKISH CARRIAGE ..... 104

GREEK GIRLS ......... 106

MONASTERY OF METEORA I2O

BEATING THE " SIMANDRO " 128

GREEK FATHER ARSENIUS AND HIS SABRE . . . 130

FINDING RARE MANUSCRIPTS 136

VENDER OF SIMITS 142

BEGGAR . . 144

OECUMENICAL PATRIARCH DEMETRIUS V. . . • I52

LEGATION STEAM LAUNCH " SUNSET " OFF PRINKIPO . 156

HALKI .......... l6o

" SOYER TRES HEUREUX " 232

INTERIOR OF CIRCASSIAN HOME 236

MAP OF THE REGION OF FIRE AND PETROLEUM . . 250

TIGER-HUNT FOR THE MINISTER 270

HANNIBAL'S GRAVE . 301

GREEK WOMAN FROM THE INTERIOR .... 338

TURKISH WOMAN 354

TURKISH WOMEN ON A DONKEY-RIDE .... 356

" FAR AWAY MOSES " 37**

THE PRINCES ISLES;

OR,

THE PLEASURES OF PRINKIPO.

CHAPTER I.

THE ISLES OF THE PRINCES IN THE PROPONTIS

THEIR GOVERNMENT AND PEOPLE.

THERE are nine of these isles, of which five—
Prinkipo, Halki, Antigone, Proti and Terevinthos
(Androvichi) — are inhabited; the other four—
Oxia, Plati, Nyandros and Pita — are uninhabited.
The five first-mentioned have been inhabited for
ages past. The great Doge, Henry Dandolo, who
was the soul of the Fourth Crusade, advised the
Crusaders, who were then encamped at San Ste-
fano, just beyond the walls of Constantinople,
" not to forage in the Thracian plains, but rather
to try these islands qui sont habitues de genzy et
labor ^es de blez et de viandes et d'autres biens"

They were called in ancient times " Demonisi,"
and under this appellation they are mentioned by
Aristotle, who says of one of them : " Demonisos,
an island of the Chalcedonians, deriving its name

2 THE PRINCES ISLES.

from its founder, Demonisos, famous for the gold
dust it produces, which is most valuable as a cure
for those suffering from the eyes."

The Turks call them collectively " Khizil Ada-
lar " —Red Islands — from the peculiar color of
their soil.

The early Roman had a taste for beauty.
When he became master of the East the mythical
and mystical beauty of the Greek islands allured
him. He liked the climate, which the sea softened
alike during summer and winter. The islands of
the Bay of Naples became favorite abodes for the
opulent of Imperial Rome, and Lesbos, described
as a noble and pleasant island by Tacitus, was a
royal retreat for a Roman governor in exile.

Some liken these isles and waters to those of
the Malayan archipelago. There the scenes are
tropical and the waters luminous with phospho-
rescent beauty. Those who have seen the inland
sea of Japan, compare its charm of water and sky
to the deep blue sea and overarching glory of
the Grecian isles. I have often been reminded,
wrhile sailing amidst these isles, of the sunny
sheen and the verdant hills and mountains of our
Antilles. In praising the Princes group I give
the palm to no other scenery, for to the beauty
of nature in the islands of Greece, like those of
Prinkipo and the other Isles of the Princes, there
is an added charm : it is that of historical and

UNITY WITH VARIETY. *

poetical associations. Their historical associations
are the annals of ancient empire, Asian and Euro-
pean ; and their poetical associations have as their
aureole a golden radiance, under which

" Mildly dimpling, ocean's cheek
Reflects the tints of many a peak,
Caught by the laughing tides that lave
These Edens of the Eastern wave."

There were nine muses. The Princes Isles are
the same in number as those sisters. The muses
had various functions in the hierarchy of song.
These isles have a similar condition in the econ-
omy of nature, not to speak of their artistic utili-
ties. Their beauty and allurements are as varied
as the hues of the waters around them. Yet they
are similar; and, notwithstanding differences in
history, size and cultivation, they cannot be ac-
counted aliens to each other. The same geology,
the same sun, the same production, the same in-
sects even, give them a unity in variety which
would be as pleasing as one of Sophocles's plays
to a scholar — or as the E pluribus unum to a patri-
otic lover of our starry ensign. Like the Iris—
which is seen with every dash of the clear water of
the Propontis (or Marmora) — varios insula col-
ores, this group, unless we except the bay of Na-
ples, is without a peer in the archipelagoes or
waters of our globe.

4 THE PRINCES ISLES.

The isles are on the latitude of New York
but they have not its winter sleet, snow, chill, and
inclemency. They are a little south-east of Con-
stantinople. They are sheltered from the harsh
winds of the Black Sea, as the Bosphorus is not, by
the northern range of Asiatic mountains. They
take on the climate and characteristics and have
the same people that inhabited the Isles of Greece
of which Homer and Byron delighted to sing.

It is difficult to affirm after the lapse of many
hundred years that the people who reside upon
the shores of the Greek islands are other than
a mixed race. They are of the Greek, Roman,
and Turkish races. Their only sign of patriotism
is a fervid attachment to their own islands and
the emotion by which they are bound to their or-
thodox religion. One must go inland upon these
isles of Greece to find the Greek of our classic en-
thusiasm and patriotic frenzy. In this respect the
Isles of the Princes are exceptional. The body of
their population is of unmixed Greek origin. It
needs no ethnographical chart to show this ; the
features of the people demonstrate it. The pop-
ulation is nearly all Greek. It numbers over ten
thousand. Their government by the Porte is
hardly felt.

Mohammed II., the conqueror of Constanti-
nople, was wiser than his contemporaries. The
Greeks were allowed by him, through their own
officers, to supervise their own ceremonious relig-

MOSLEM LIBERALITY. 5

ion in the very city of Constantinople. That
Sultan pensioned many of the Greek clergy to
keep up the establishment of their faith. He did
not antagonize the millions in the provinces of
Greece who were under the crescent. He was
content to exact from them only the recognition
of his secular power. These isles were given in
fee to the Greek population. Thereupon they
flocked hither, with such wealth as was spared to
them from the sacking of the city. Here they
found already built their religious houses and
churches, sacred for a thousand years to their
faith. Here they built their villas, and thence
daily sailed in their pinnaces to the city, when on
business or pleasure intent.

What kind of a government have these isles ?
Upon some of them, the smaller ones, like Pita,
Androvichi, Nyandros and Oxia, there are no resi-
dents. Upon Plati — Sir Henry Bulwer's Isle, so
called — there are a few folk cultivating the soil
under an Armenian peasant. This peasant is the
gentle castellan. He watches the tumble-down
castles which the English minister erected in one
of his eccentric moods. Consequently upon only
four of the isles is there need of a government or
police. What do the police here ?

One of their functions is the protection of the
few trees from the goats. The islands are trav-
ersed daily by herds of these voracious animals.

6 THE PRINCES ISLES.

They are generally associated with the gentlest of
big-tailed sheep. Both are under one shepherd.'
But as the goat will eat anything, even an Ameri-
can petroleum can, and especially as he will climb
the rocks and almost trees for anything verdant,
he is the pest, not only of these isles, where some
verdure is left, but of the Orient. When the
young boys and girls who are shepherds are aloof
from the forester, owner, or police, in remote
places, they help the goats to make havoc of the
woods and foliage. In these countries, almost de-
nuded of trees by fire and war and reckless peas-
ants who know and care nothing for the sanitary,
climatic and agricultural value of trees, this devas-
tation was simply inevitable. Cyprus was, until the
English control, almost ruined by the greedy goat.
Last summer, when venturing up the pretty creek
out of the Bosphorus, whereon are situated the
" Sweet Waters of Asia," a mile or more with the
meandering stream, I saw a couple of gentle shep-
herd youths, with a flock of goats, on the beauti-
ful hillside. The boys were in the trees. They
had " little hatchets " and saws. They were cut-
ting off the limbs for the sustenance of their flock.
Thus passeth away the glory of these little Leban-
ons of Asia !

These isles, however, are now pretty well
guarded. They bid fair to preserve what bosky
beauty and sylvan shade they have.

DESTRUCTION OF FORESTS. j

The Sultan is wise beyond most of his subjects.
He preserves the grand Belgrade forests, in whose
cool haunts, from the borders of the Bosphorus to
the Black Sea shore, there are miles of splendid
roads through deep, verdurous alleys and paths,
for equestrians and carriages. Deer still frequent
these woods. These Belgrade woods are made
famous by the vivid descriptions of Lady Mary
Montagu, who sojourned there when her husband
was minister. Besides this forest, the Sultan has
made his grounds about Yildiz palace umbra-
geous in trees and shrubs, and tasteful in pretty
lakes and fountains. Photographs of these he
has had taken. He requested me to send, to the
President these pictures. This I have done. He
desires some of our American indigenous trees,
being partial to conifera, as he contemplates en-
larging his forest domain, to remove the reproach
of barrenness from the hills which overlook the
Bosphorus above the palaces of Beckitash and
Dolma Batche. To make this plan a success, the
omnivorous goat must go ! But as long as the
peasant relies on the goat for milk, he is loath to
let him go.

Although the Bosphorus is fifteen miles away to
the north from our Prinkipo home and isle, still it
is within my bailiwick, though not within that of
the police system which obtains here. Formerly
these nine Princes Isles were attached to the

8 THE PRINCES ISLES.

" Sixth Circle," or Prefecture of Pera — the city on
the hill opposite Constantinople proper, or Stam-
boul. It was owing to the skill of Blacque Bey—
the Prefect, or Mayor, of the "Circle" — that these
isles improved. But recently the isles have been
added to the Prefecture of Ismid, whose capital,
at the end of the gulf of that name, is famous
in the annals of Bithynia, in her earlier Roman
and more recent Byzantine ecclesiastical history.
However, the rule is nearly the same as when
Blacque Bey was the Prefect. The government
is still based on the ideas of municipal rule, with
considerable freedom about taxation ; for the peo-
ple are allowed voluntarily to pay for their own
improvements.

The government of the isles is so much mixed
that it is more difficult to understand its philos-
ophy than autocratically to administer it. To
understand its combined central and local charac-
ter you must study its Turkish features. In the
old Arabic legislation municipal rule was not the
exception. The Ottoman did not greatly change
the general polity and administration of affairs
when Turkey was conquered from the Greeks.
Both systems were decentralizing. In the old
Greek system there was much reserved to the
provinces and the people of the localities " respec-
tively." This was the mainspring of Grecian sur-
vival and of Turkish continuance. One of the

THEIR GOVERNMENT. g

changeless things in this country is the fixed fact
that, while the Greek emperors ruled there were
the same capitulations or privileges extended by
the Greeks to the Turks as the Turks now extend
to the Greeks and Franks. The concessions went
almost as far in religious matters as those of Lord
Baltimore and Roger Williams ; so that the Mos-
lem had the privilege of erecting mosques within
the very heart and walls of the Stamboul triangle ;
just as now the American Bible House and Fe-
male Home School, not to speak of the American
(Robert) College, are tolerated within its jurisdic-
tion.

The Sultan is, when he chooses, practically
absolute. He controls purse and sword. Al-
though the " Gotha Almanach " puts the govern-
ment down as a constitutional monarchy, it is so
in form only. There was a constitution adopted
on the 23d of December, 1876, under some up-
heaval, but it remains a dead letter. The Sheik-
Ul-Islam represents, the spiritual power of the
Caliphate. He is neither priest nor magistrate,
but an interpreter of the sacred Koran, which is a
law for the realm, except when the Sultan dis-
penses with the interpretation. There are titles,
but no nobility, no hereditary lords. " Effendi,"
the name by which the princes and even the ''hon-
orable women " are called, is no more than
" Esquire." Other titles, such as Aga and Pasha,

10 THE PRINCES ISLES.

are only convenient handles to names like Tewfik,
Ali, Mustafa and Mehmet. There is a title repre-
senting the controlling power, by which the ad-
ministration is known — viz., the Sublime Porte.
It is a locality, on or near the Seraglio Point,
where the Bosphorus flows into the Sea of Mar-
mora on one side, and the Golden Horn flows
into the same sea on the other But as all names
of places in Turkey have an inner meaning, so
Sublime Porte means the exalted seat of justice.
As the Bible tells us, justice was administered " at
the gate," or "porte." It was the Oriental cus-
tom. So that this gate is known as the gate of
justice par excellence !

The empire in its grand divisions is made up of
vilayets. These are governed each by a Viceroy.
There are subordinates, like governors of counties,
called Mudirs, or of divisions of counties called
Kai'makam. The Governor of this isle of Prin-
kipo is a Kai'makam. Sometimes these officers,
especially in Christian neighborhoods, are Chris-
tians. Many of the Turks are descendants of
Christians, and one-half of the population of Tur-
key, which is estimated at thirty-six millions, are
not Turkish. The idea of the government is
patriarchal, whether it is practiced or not. What
would seem anomalous in other countries is here
a rule, viz., that there are governments within
the government. These are patriarchal, and both

GREEK POLITY. j r

civil and ecclesiastical in their functions. The
Greek subjects in their internal affairs are ruled
by their own laws and magistrates. There are
heads to the Armenian, Hebrew, Greek and Latin
communities. There is a Greek nation, Ooroom
Milletti. It is ruled by a Council. In this the
laity have much control. The Patriarch is called
"His Holiness." With his bishops he forms a
Synod in religious matters. Throughout the
country, in every district, city and village, civil
relations are regulated by these councils and
synods, along with the ecclesiastical. The civil
representative may be a Turk. The Kaimakam,
or chief of this isle of Prinkipo, is now a Turk.
He used to be a Greek. You scarcely see him or
hear of him. He called on Admiral Franklin,
when he anchored here with the " Kearsarge," but
informed him that he had no residence, only an
office, on the isle. He did not expect, therefore,
the Admiral to return his call. I have not re-
ceived a call from His Excellency; but I have
heard from him, in an unpleasant way, when he
interfered with my comfort and courtesy, without
suspecting from my modest demeanor that I repre-
sented some sixty millions of free-born Americans.
I was cautioned against as the man with a high
silk hat, who was guilty of some misadventure,
not entirely in accord with his sense of decorum.
When he learned his mistake, the correction was

12 THE PRINCES ISLES.

prompt and adequate. More of that hereafter.
It is one of the mysteries of Asia ; and as these
isles are in Asia, let us not pluck out its heart too
suddenly.

Prinkipo, like the other eight " Isles of the
Princes/' has a good deal of Home Rule. It is in
the form of a Council, which is elected by the
householders. It has power, in some way, to levy
some of the taxes, but it takes care not to do it
to any great extent ; for the revenue is taken to
the city and becomes a common fund. This fund
does not always inure to the good of the island,
for there the taxes — wherewithal to light, police
and improve the isles, or at least this isle of Prin-
kipo— -are voluntary contributions by the rich folks.
There are taxes— the old octroi — levied here upon
donkeys and carriages. They pay for the removal
of the garbage and to improve the streets and
roads. Altogether the system is not the perfec-
tion of municipal home rule. There are some
thirty police, called zap ticks > in the town which
is near the shore. These keep the peace, watch
the scala (or quay) and shipping, and light the
lamps. They seldom penetrate into the interior
of the island, which is a dozen miles in girth.

Once in a while, when sauntering over the
heights of the island, or among the pines, there
comes on you, unexpectedly, a strange-looking man,
as if he were lost out of one of Ulysses's pinnaces

THE ALBANIAN FORESTER. j 3

in an erratic way, or just from Albania, or had
been tossed out of the Cyclades by an earthquake,
or swam ashore by some help of the Homeric
gods or goddesses. He is in the old Greek cos-
tume, with embroidered vest, large red sash, and
baggy pants. As a sign of his Turkish subjection,
he wears the red fez. In his sash he has some
Damascus pistols, silver-mounted. They are as
handsome and as harmless as those of our Ca-
vass. There protrudes from the sash the jewelled
handle of the Damascene dirk, or yataghan.
There is a sword, or scimitar, by his side, and
altogether he appears quite voluminous at his
middle. He wears low shoes, adorned with silver
buckles. He has them turned up at the toes, and
high black silk stockings. His brow is corrugated
with care. His hair and mustache are blonde.
His frame is stalwart. Two dogs follow him
about. What is his business? To protect the
forest from goat, fire and spoilers. The trees must
not be disturbed. Fig and olive, pine and pome-
granate, on the road or by-paths, or over the stone
fences, each and all are precious. The world does
move !

This elaborate forester is from the Albanian
mountains. He is too proud to make his avoca-
tion known. He is yet to arrest any one. He
trudges along as independently as if he were in
his native Croatia. He is one of the hardy race

I4 THE PRINCES ISLES.

of mountaineers which has seen much fighting.
He is on good terms with my Dalmatian serviteiir,
Pedro Sckoppegalia. I hope the forester's name
is not so unpronounceable as Pedro's.

Besides guarding the forest, vines and fruits of
the isles, these men act as private guards to houses
and grounds. They are good, orthodox Greek
Christians ; and whether as Slavs or Greeks, I sup-
pose they love Russia more than Turkey. There
are not many of them, but they give picturesque-
ness to the scene.

No robbers are on the isle. As some one said
to me : " If a robber should make a raid here, how
could he get off the island without being caught?"
The beggars are few and are easily satisfied.
They are a law and a police to themselves. There
does not seem much necessity for these guardians
of the vine and pine, fig and pomegranate, for few
people here lock their doors at night, much less
their garden gates.

Altogether the population seems to be happy
and contented. Whether it be the fisherman sit-
ting on the sand, mending his nets after the apos-
tolic method, or the little girls plucking the grapes
in the vineyard and figs in the orchards, or the
women attending their children and their washing,
the song ever goes up from cheerful throats and
well-fed stomachs. The prevalent song is Greek.
It has a weird, quaint melody of which I have

ALBANIAN POLICE.

NO NEED OF POLICE. l g

heard snatches in some comediettas at the Casino
in New York.

There can be little use in having much police
on the islands, as at nearly every point you meet
groups of honest people. The carriers with their
kegs of fresh water on their donkeys, the fruit
venders and foot peddlers, and the donkey-drivers
or parties are everywhere. Bevies of girls and
children are in the woods, sitting on or playing
among the rocks, or ensconced amidst the aromatic
shrubbery. There are no Naiads here. All are
Dryads ; for there are no fountains, only wells ;
and trees in plenty, where the wood nymphs cluster
and chatter and laugh their golden moments away.
Sometimes, wlfen the bands play at the restaurants,
or a Bohemian comes along with his hand-organ,
the young folks have a dance. There is much
provision on the isle for picnics and parties. The
steamer from the city, especially on Sunday, brings
its thousands to the isle for pastime, and they
make the hours fly on winged feet.

Although there are many and various people so-
journing on the isle — some of whom are occasion-
ally addicted to bier de Vienne, and the horrid
mastic or whiskey of the country — I have not seen
one case of drunkenness, fighting, or quarrelling.
The policeman, therefore, when not a gay and
happy forester is almost supererogatory.

The roads are in admirable repair, and fit for

!6 THE PRINCES ISLES.

the finest vehicles. Occasionally an invalid lady
ascends the mountain in the old sedan chair. The
paths up and down are for donkeys and promenad-
ers, who flock over the island from morning till
evening, in search of cool spots and al fresco din-
ing. Now and then these social amenities indicate
a church/^ or love making; for the women of
the isle have rare Hellenic beauty and coquettish
ways. Besides these promenaders, you meet fre-
quently the peddlers of all kinds of wares, cakes,
confections, fruit — and water. Everything you
want here, from a needle to a pair of shoes, from
a peach to a glass of ice-cream, is brought to your
very hand. The water that you drink is drawn
from wells in the valleys on the north and south
sides of the isle. The proprietors own a donkey
drove. They fill four casks of pure cool water
from the deep wells, rope the casks with equipoise
dexterously on the donkey's back, and dispense it
around to the private houses and restaurants.
Water costs about half a piaster a keg, or two
cents. Some of these venders of water and things
are hamals. They bear great loads from the scala
and ferries to any part of the island. They are
duplicates of the stalwarts of Stamboul, who can
carry 600 or 700 pounds of furniture, trunks, or
what not up the hills and never turn a hair.

In my summer life here, I have yet to meet
from the people, old or young, one act or look of

NO BAD BOYS.

discourtesy, or observe one Bad Boy made after
the similitude of Peck's. The Greek origin of the
people has given them graces beyond the reach of
art, and my summer at Prinkipo has been a revel
in the very heart of nature.

CHAPTER II.

ISLES OF THE PRINCES THEIR GEOGRAPHY AND HIS-
TORICAL ASSOCIATIONS.

THE map will show the relative position of the
isles to Prinkipo and to each other and to the
main land and city of Constantinople. Oxia and
Plati seem from the other isles like barren rocks
in the sea. This is one of the illusions. Proti,
Antigone and Halki are about of equal size.
They are nearest the city. Androvichi lies east
of Prinkipo. It has but one resident on it. You
may guess his occupation by the great gash he
has made on its western side, from whence comes
the marble and out of which he makes the lime for
transportation to the city. This isle has no culti-
vation, unless the smoke that ascends from his
lime kilns indicates an ancient cult and a pious
sacrifice which Homer so frequently records.

Nyandros, another island, is off the southern end
of Prinkipo. From the top of this latter island
Nyandros seems to be a part of Prinkipo, but it is
really two miles away. Pita is a very small islet,
between Halki and Antigone. It is not peopled.
The other islands are visited by strangers as sum-

tl8

THE MONASTERY OF CHRISTOS. l^

mer resorts, besides having a goodly number of
inhabitants who live there the year round. Prin-
kipo, however, is the chief. It is facile firinceps.
The island is some ten miles around, with a rare
variety of mountain and intervale.

The Turkish name for Prinkipo is Buyuk-Ada,
or " Large Isle." This is the appellation given to
it by the ancient Byzantines. The history and
reminiscences connected with the ancient nunnery
established in this place, and to which the Empress
Irene was provisionally confined, are more or
less accurately given in Schlumberger's " lies des
Princes." Where the monastery of St. Michael's
now stands, on the northern side of the isle,
there existed in former times a large village. It
was called by the Byzantines " Karya." The
church attached to that monastery used to serve as
the parish church of the village. The monastery
now belongs to the patriarchate • of the Greek
Church and is rented by an abbot.

The monastery of Christos is also of very an-
cient date. Beginning from just beyond our villa,
on the mountain side, its premises run down to
the Diaskalon or picnic grounds. The sur-
rounding lands belong to this monastery. Up to
1870 the building was a perfect mass of wooden
ruins, including the church. In that year the pres-
ent Patriarch of Alexandria, then Patriarch of
Constantinople, having been deposed from his bea-

20 THE PRINCES ISLES.

tific title and place, retired to Prinkipo. He set to
work to restore the tumbledown wooden hut which
served as a chapel. With the help of contribu-
tions from wealthy friends, the church, under the
personal superintendence of the ex-Patriarch, was
rebuilt of stone as it now stands. The monastery
itself was only restored last year, 1885, by the
present abbot, mostly at his own expense. This
abbot is an active and hard-working man. He
devotes his whole time to the cultivation of the
lands belonging to the monastery. He is also a
large wine and spirit brewer, and the products of
his brewery are renowned all over Constantinople
for their purity and excellence.

I am sure from observation and taste that the
wine of the isle is more plentiful and delicious
than the water. The latter is nearly as costly as
the wine.

I have been told by those who have dug on the
island for water that Prinkipo is somewhat different
from the other islands geologically and mineralog-
ically, and that parts of it differ from other por-
tions. This is accounted for, of course, by some
remote cataclysm. Like the other isles it has its
depressions and elevations. These give a curva-
ture to the horizon which adds many a grace.
Upon the tops of the mountainous portions are
situated Greek colleges and monasteries. These
give the name of " Scholastic " to Halki, and would

THE DA Y BE GINS A T SUNSE T. 2 1

give that of " Pious "to Prinkipo were not Prin-
kipo so superb in her worldly adornments.

Halki has three seminaries of learning : two
Greek and one Turkish. The last is a naval
school. Prinkipo has three monasteries. These
isles, especially Halki and Prinkipo, are accessible
from the city of Constantinople by the Shirket
ferry. It leaves the bridge over the Golden Horn
several times a day, and makes the trip in an hour
and a-half. The Turk sets his clock and watch by
the sun. He begins his day at sunset. The time,
therefore, varies. This produces, until you are
accustomed to it, many misadventures. The pop-
ulation who come to these islands consult the daily
journals for the exact minute when the boats leave
the bridge at Constantinople and the quai at the
isles. There are two good hotels in the town of
Prinkipo, and these are well patronized in sum-
mer. Of the other isles, besides Prinkipo, I will
hereafter dilate at pleasure, for from Prinkipo
with our steam launch, which Congress was good
enough to vote the minister, we can take our time
to visit and revisit these gems of the sea.

What historic events have these isles witnessed
during the thousand years of Greek empire in the
East ? What palaces and prisons were here erected
for living and fallen greatness when in power or
banished? What did the Empress Irene in the
ninth century for Prinkipo, when it was at the sum-

22 THE PRINCES ISLES.

mit of its splendor ? What has become of the very
dust of these Grecian worthies and rulers, since
the conquest of Constantinople in A. D. 1453, by
the Moslem ? How happens it that only a few
old monastic relics remain upon this consecrated
ground ? These are questions under a veil of tra-
dition, if not history, which even the regeneration
of these lands has failed to bring fully to the light.

The tourist who travels with Murray's red-book
in hand will be disappointed at its meagre men-
tion of the Princes Isles. It gives hardly a stick-
ful to Halki ; and as for Prinkipo there is scarcely
a finger's length of matter, and that has reference to
the Empress Irene. That reference is all too brief,
for the empress was a grand figure in history at a
grand epoch. It hints at some spectacle of fallen
greatness and vanished splendor witnessed in the
first year of the ninth century, when Irene, the
contemporary of Charlemagne and Haroun-Al-
Raschid was banished from the throne of Byzan-
tium to the convent which she had built at Prin-
kipo. The convent remains on the north-eastern
side of the island, and from its lofty site sweeps a
splendid horizon of continent, isle and sea.

This description was provocative. I sent to
London and Paris, and scanned the libraries here,
to find a full account of the antiquities and per-
sonnel of this once regal isle. I heard of but
one volume in French, by a German, Gustave

GIBBON'S PICTURE OF THE EAST. 23

Schlumberger, which would serve to elucidate the
spectacle. But even this volume is faulty. I doubt
if the writer ever visited the isles. Gibbon is
always near, and so I turn to his grandiose pict-
ure of the Eastern Empire ; but even he fails to
give much of interest about the empress and other
great personages, in their relation to our isle. In
his forty-eighth Chapter, he makes a rdsumd of five
centuries of the decline and fall, and he has eight
more centuries before Constantinople succumbs to
the Turk. He pursues its " tedious and uniform
state of weakness and misery." He has " cor-
nered " the great Roman name in the lonely sub-
urbs of Constantinople. " As in his daily pray-
ers, the Mussulman of Fez or Delhi turns his
face toward Mecca," so the historic eye, as he
phrases it, " is always fixed on Constantinople."
Making this prelude the historian proceeds with
stately step to open the prologue of swelling
drama in which, then as now, Latins, Greeks, Bul-
garians, Russians and Turks play their parts.
Upon this stage moves Leo IV., son of the fifth
Constantine. This Emperor Leo took an Athe-
nian orphan girl to wife. She had great personal
accomplishments. He was feeble ; she was not.
It is the old story ; she was the ruler of the Em-
peror, and at his death, by his will became Em-
press-Guardian of all the Eastern Empire. The
Prince, their son, Constantine VI., became her

24 THE PRINCES ISLES.

anxiety and care, next after the restoration of the
worship of images, of which she was the champion.
This image-worship was the burning question of her
time. Upon this question thrones were upturned
and synods thundered. The iconoclasts had been
in arms and had been successful. After many
trials the Prince succeeded in obtaining the throne

and humiliating his mother, but he was soon de-
throned by a counterplot of the wily Irene. She
had his eyes put out. She had him assassinated.
Ambition stifled all the good in her nature.
Her crimes were horrible, but not more so than the
crime of many other rulers at Byzantium during
the Greek dynasties. Putting out the eyes and
banishment to monasteries seem to have been the
favorite penalty and pastime of princes in those
days of unparalleled cruelty. Irene held her ill-
gotten power only five years. She was wont to
pass through Constantinople in her golden char-
iot, drawn by four milk-white steeds. Their reins
were held by patricians who had been made
eunuchs by her edict. These eunuchs, with the
cunning of that class, conspired against her. The
great treasurer, Nicephorus, led the conspiracy.
He was secretly invested with the purple and
crowned in St. Sophia. Irene sought a retreat
from her perfidious treasurer. This, her prayer,
was granted ; but when she requested her treasures,
they were refused her; for was he not a good

EMPRESS IRENE AND HER TREASURER. 35

treasurer ? But he graciously allowed her to re-
tire honorably to the monastery of Prinkipo.
It seems that this was too near Byzantium for his
comfort, for he banished her to the Island of Les-
bos. There, like good Penelope, she endeavored
to atone for her unnatural crimes by a life of labor
at the distaff. With this simple implement the
empress, who had revelled in all the splendors of
the Blachernal palace, was enabled to earn a
scanty subsistence.

What remains of the old Byzantine civilization ?
Nothing but the walls, and even their eternity of
strength has been broken. When the spring
comes with its foliage, the moat around the towers
that once protected the great city is a vegetable
garden, and the blossoms of the peach, plum and
the pomegranate give to its grassy mound their
beauty and fragrance. What changes have taken
place ! Who can tell whether man or nature, the
sword or the earthquake, hath produced them ?
When I was in Constantinople in 1851 I saw a
large porphyry sarcophagus. It was once the
tomb of the Empress Irene, when she was buried
in Prinkipo. It had been converted into a water
tank. It was in the old hippodrome. It is no
longer even there. It matters not to us in Amer-
ica or elsewhere now, what became of her tomb or
of her treasurer. There may have been a Lord
Elgin for the removal of the one and a convenient

26 THE PRINCES ISLES.

Canada in the archipelago for the other. One
reign was similar with that of others. Another
ruler soon follows. Eye after eye is put out with
red hot irons ; and so on, until the Turk comes,
though with a scimitar — yet with some clemency—
about the year that Columbus went to seek Ca-
thay.

The purple robe of the Orient which enveloped
Constantinople, and whose resplendent fringes
hung over these isles, was associated with the
orthodox Greek religion. There was a closer
relation of Church and State here than the union
of civil and religious power at Rome. At no age,
or country7, was there ever so permanent a system
with so much of intrigue, cruelty, bloodshed and
war, as at this historic point. It is the verdict of
history that the incoming of the Turk was a bless-
ing to mankind.

In all these phases of power the monastery
has played a great part. Nearly all that remains
in these Islands of the Princes of the evidences
and emblems of ancient empire are these old
religious houses. They are not numerous, but
they are monuments of Greek rule, long in con-
tinuance, and at times resplendent in scholarship
and jurisprudence. The Turks were iconoclasts.
They spared little. Few of the images of the
orthojdox church escaped their spoliation. They
were religionists. They carne with fire and fury.

A BYZANTINE SARDANAPALU$. 27

Manuscripts, pictures, statues, altars and struct-
ures fell before the Sultanic baton. Blindings
and mutilations, however, — crimes so horrible as
to make Gibbon's page blush, — no longer incarna-
dined the azure Bosphorus or Propontis. In
looking here for relics of those regal and monastic
eras we find few. Even the pictures which the
muse of history paints are but meagre, grimed
and almost colorless. Open a page of Gibbon.
Read the story of these emperors. Select one
whom you may call a sample. Take Manuel.
He was a Comnenus. In war he could not fight
for peace ; and in peace he was incapable of war.
He was an anchorite in the camp ; a Sardanapa-
lus in the palace. No sooner did he return from
the field to Constantinople than he resigned him-
self to the arts and pleasures of a life of luxury.
The expense of his dress, table and palace sur-
passed the measure of his predecessors. Whole
summer days were idly wasted on these delightful
isles of the Propontis, in the incestuous love of his
niece, Theodora — gift of God, in the euphony of
this rich tongue. Here and there we have such
horrible hints as to these lovely isles, in the front
of history ; but in vain have I looked for the
grand palaces, or even their ruins, in this isle.
Outside of the monasteries I have found but one
old tower of doubtful tradition, and the founda-
tions of what is known as Irene's palace. The last

2g THE PRINCES ISLES.

are on the north side and in the vale that divides
the two high points of the island, a half-mile from
our humble villa. You will know the spot by a
dark-looking cave out of which much iron has
been extracted. It is on the left hand of the road
as you drive -eastward from the village. As you
cross the stone bridge you see the tower and the
wide foundations nearly hidden beneath the red
soil and abundant foliage. If you desire some
mosaics — or something else archaeological — take a
pick, and do as my neighbor, Mr. Edwin Pears,
author of the " Latin Conquest," has done : dig
away the dirt and you will be rewarded for the
delving.

When this palace was in the meridian of its
existence, and before the Turks razed all these evi-
dences of Greek luxury, this isle was as pictur-
esque as art and opulence could make it. Being in
sight of Constantinople, and with a climate where
even winter smiles, it was the resort of princes
and, of course, of the troop of hypocrites, parasites
and favorites which Walter Scott has well pictured
in his " Robert of Paris."

What a race the Greeks were and are ! For a
thousand years, and within my sight upon yonder
Seraglio Point, and here upon these isles of their
princes, they struggled and survived, after many
an exhaustive contest with the Barbarians of
the North and the Moslems of the East. Their

THE IONIAN GREEKS. 2Q

colonies were their glory. Here the Ionian chil-
dren of old Greece still held supreme honor. Pre-
cocious often, but always intellectual, they ad-
vanced in nearly all that modern philosophy can
teach ; while Athens, the eye and soul of their pol-
ity and art, "arose to an empire that can never
perish until heroism shall cease to warm, poetry to
delight and wisdom to instruct the future."

CHAPTER III.

HEALTH AND OTHER ATTRACTIONS OF PRINKIPO.

THERE are 250,000 Greeks in Constantinople,
of whom there are 120,000 r ayahs, or Turkish
subjects. When Mohammed II. captured Con-
stantinople, as I have said, he reserved the Isles
of the Princes for the use of the Greeks who
chose to remove there. Some thousands sought
these isles as a residence ; their descendants yet
seek them as such. These residents are the
cream of the Greek population of the city. Their
features, especially the rich complexion, the
straight nose in a line with the symmetric brow,
seem copied from one model, or rather that model
is copied from nature. I find that model upon the
wall of the Greek villa of which the writer is at
present the occupant. It is a Minerva. It is
grace, dignity and wisdom in one.

Thirty years ago, just at the conclusion of the
Crimean war, a lady — Mrs. Hornby, wife of an
English loan commissioner who was afterwards a
judge in Constantinople — wrote a brief chapter in
her book about the delights of a farm on this
isle of Prinkipo. She said : " We could buy half

WEALTH AND ELEGANCE OF PRINKIPO. 31

the island, with a garden and vineyard, for ^500,
and build a good comfortable house with a fire-
place and every comfort." Now, five million
pounds sterling would not buy the property of the
town proper, much less the splendid mansions
which rise and front street on street. The streets
are terraced from the sea up the mountain side
to the pine forests which crown the summits.

Upon the north-western side of Prinkipo there
is a little city whose villas are rare in elegance and
architecture, whose gardens have a hesperidean
fruitage and bloom, and whose red-tiled roofs over
the white or yellow buildings add a refinement to
the town and isle which the bath houses at the
water's edge, upon the jutting crags, themselves
ornamental, in vain try to dispel. The rich Greek
merchants and bankers, together with the English,
German, French, American, Armenian and Swiss
families, who summer here, have not only spent
their money freely to decorate their own homes
and grounds, but they have made winding roads,
up hill and down, which cross and encircle the
island. These roads are embowered most of the
way by fig, olive and stone-pine trees. The culti-
vated country is green at the opening of the
season with the fig bearing its fresh fruit. The
vines are putting forth their tender grapes. The
pomegranates blaze with scarlet flowers. Hun-
dreds, nay thousands, of people come to the isle

32 THE PRINCES ISLES.

from the city for health and recreation, attracted
by these parterres, mansions and pineries. They
often bring their provender along.

There are several extensive restaurants on
the island, where, upon the smoothed terraces,
in the open air under coniferous canopies, with
convenient tables and seats, there is plentiful and
breezy room for picnic parties. Many invalids
from all parts of the East are ordered here, to
drink in the resinous ozone, while they lie on rugs
under the groves which cover most of the isl-
and elevations. While the carriage roads are as
good as those of Central Park, the principal feat-
ure of the isle is the donkey ride. This style of
locomotion is quite as common here as in Egypt or
the Riviera. The donkeys require much prodding
and are not comparable with those of Egypt.
The company for a donkey promenade may be
made up of a dozen or more. It is guarded by
the Greek donkey man, who, whether the animals
go fast or slow, keeps up with the pace, and steers
the beast cunningly by the tail, up hill and down,
from the quay on the north-west to the rocky top
of St. George on the south-east. Upon this
height is a monastery of old associations, and an
out-door restaurant with its conveniences for rest.
What a prospect is here upon this point, overlook-
ing land and sea, reaching from San Stefano in
Europe to Mount Olympus in Asia ; and from the

THE THIRST FOR TRAVEL. 33

north, where the Alem Dagh lifts its mountainous
observatory of 1460 feet for the tourist from Con-
stantinople to the mysterious islets of Oxia and
Plati, which leap out of the western sea, rock-
ribbed but lovely !

The French have a proverb that a man who
drinks once will drink again. It applies to travel-
ling adventures. I began my travels to the Orient
in 1851. Since then, from Hammerfest, the north-
ernmost town in Europe, to the Atlas Mountains
in Africa and the Nubian Cataract of the Nile, and
from San Francisco west to Damascus east, I
have viewed many rare scenes. The^e travels
have been inspired by an unrest that belongs to
my nature, by a curiosity begotten of reading, and
by a romantic sentiment that defies the practical.
Bayard Taylor's " Views Afoot" started me to this
land of the Orient thirty-five years ago. But the
most interesting journey of my life carried me to
the Riviera on and along the Corniche road, and
from thence to Corsica, Spain and Algiers. That
trip was a search for " Winter Sunbeams." It was a
sanitary tour, under Dr. Henry Bennet's direc-
tion. The same prompting from an eminent
physician of Constantinople impelled me to this
isle of Prinkipo, here to summer. I had not seen
these isles in 1851, nor when I again visited Tur-
key in 1 88 1. Last summer, 1885, we made a
hurried visit here in the launch of an Armenian
3

THE PRINCES ISLES.

banker. He is an American citizen and flies our
flag, when the Kai'macam of the isle permits, over
a grand tower at his villa overlooking the sea. I
had then a glimpse, in the gloaming of the evening,
and in a ride behind his high-stepping bays, of the
rare mountains and valleys over which these roads
run. But I did not dream then of the affluence of
loveliness and sanitation which the isle possesses.

The question may, perhaps, be asked : " How
could you, as an officer of your country, accredited
near His Majesty at Yildiz, live so far from your
post as the island of Prinkipo, which is fifteen
miles away,? "

To this inquiry of the anxious tax-payer I re-
spond :

First: It is not so very far. I could reach the
Legation Office within two hours from my home
in Prinkipo.

Second : In the summer season, and by the in-
structions, I was not required to be at the Lega-
tion more than twice a week ; only to be in call.
I could go every day, as I generally did in
the summer, if not for business certainly for re-
creation. The bulk of my business is done at
the island, which I tried to make an agreeable re-
sort for all Americans who came that way.

Third : It was a health resort ; and health is in-
dispensable beyond all things. In the summer
Constantinople itself, or Pera, where the ambassa-

PINE FORESTS. HEALTH.

dors winter, is uninhabitable by reason of its
stenches, dogs and heat.

Had I arranged to spend another summer at
Therapia, on the upper Bosphorus, with its endless
round of visits, I might have made many more
acquaintances and been more useful, perhaps, in
gathering information about the endless Eastern
imbroglio. But as health was predominant in my
mind, I concluded to forego all this, in order to en-
joy the refreshing and isolated delights of Prinkipo.
This the steam launch, voted by Congress, happily
seconded.

Among the requisites for health, and especially
in pulmonary and rheumatic disorders, is the res-
inous quality of the pine. Bishop Berkley saw
the poetic Star of Empire on its western way ;
but he made also some practical observations
about the use of tar-water in consumption. It is
an old remedy. It is one of the virtues of Prin-
kipo. Every breeze is laden with its essence ;
every pine needle distils it. Some years ago an
attempt was made in Germany to utilize the pine-
needle for making paper. It becomes apparent
that the workmen in the factory, who had been
sufferers, are by handling the fibres made well.
A learned doctor makes investigation. He discov-
ers that the tissue of the leaves of the pine is
composed largely of resinous and oily particles
with curative properties. He separates the fibres.

2 6 THE PRINCES ISLES.

He finds that they resemble cotton or wool. He
gives them a new utility. He weaves the wool
into underclothing. He establishes a health-cure
at Lairitz. He is hailed as a benefactor and is the
recipient of many medals. Out of this seeming
quackery cometh the pulse-warming underwear
which is now working its marvellous results. But,
as I found out for my own comfort, it is much bet-
ter to inhale this subtle property than to wear it
in flannels. And hence my sojourn at Prinkipo.

Yet for all that, it cannot be disguised that the
beauty of the isle and its social allurements had
much to do with separating our home from those
of the other Legations which summer on the upper
Bosphorus at Therapia and Buyukdere. In glanc-
ing over the diary of my wife, I find some para-
graphs which describe these attractions. At that
time we made the journey under the crescent flag,
in the hospitable launch or mouche of our host.
The voyage thus depictured allured us hither for
our second year in the Orient. Along with some
housewifely suggestions it will not be uninterest-
ing to the female reader to scan a page or two of
this diary :

At ten A.M. we are afloat. There is some ques-
tion as to the proper flag to sail under. We natu-
rally prefer the stars and stripes, but our Capi-
tano has already hoisted the crescent and the star,
and as our host is of the Sultan's realm, though an

FIRST VISIT TO PRINKIPO. 3?

American citizen, we acquiesce. Beside, it might
be difficult to explain our wishes to the captain or
sailors, since all on board are Greeks or Arme-
nians except ourselves.

We leave the dock at Buyukdere and secure
the middle of the stream for the strongest current.
It is a little misty toward the opening at the Black
Sea, but the waters are indigo. The hills on the
Asian shore are seamed and scarred by quarrymen.
Out of their rocky sides many ribs have been
taken to give life to the city below and the villas
and palaces around. Upon the European side the
hills are green, in varied shades, from the orange
trees in the gardens at the water's edge to the
dark umbrella pines above upon the hills and
mountains. Here and there are some tints of a
pale green. It is a double sign, first of the Ma-
hometan color, and next of a Turkish barracks and
fort. This is Sunday and all the flags of the Le-
gations are flying. Jason's Mountain, tipped with
a minaret, has a magic look and a far-away expres-
sion. Are these birds, which we see flecking the
blue water as if a part of it ? Yes, flocks of the
" condemned souls," so called, which never seem
to alight. They fly close to the wavelets. A few
crows cross the stream without any noise. Some
gulls of various species ride like Halcyon on the
wave or dart down swiftly after schools of fish
which fret the water in dark spots. Porpoises

38 THE PRINCES ISLES.

come up and tumble back, enjoying their Sunday
out. These are but transient objects, and the eye
returns to the curving lines of beauty which the
hills make on either shore. We meet many
strange, fantastic sails — the vessels full of lumber
from the Black Sea or fruit for the city market.
The palaces of white marble seem to rise out of
the blue water. We come to the narrowest place
— Roumeli Hissar, with its grand old towers and
walls. It is a most picturesque spot. It combines
with sky, water and land, a well-kept cemetery of
the Moslems ever so unique, and antique houses
ever so strange, dominated by these towers of Mo-
hammed II., above, which are fit associates with
the running, clear, potential stream below. Then,
above all, we see the Robert College. It is
American, as we know. I ask a friend :

" What is that long row of twenty white houses,
all alike, over in Asia?"

" Warehouses for American petroleum."
Ah ! if they should take fire at night Edwin
Arnold would have to rewrite his " Light of Asia."
Now and then the landscape is smirched by
the black smoke of passing ferry steamers, which
ply up and down and across the Bosphorus. We
pass the big boats which under French, British,
Russian and Austrian ensigns are going out to
breast the waves of the Euxine on their voyages
to Trebizonde, the Crimea, Odessa or Varna, for

MISHAP ON THE WA Y. ^

cargoes of grain and cattle to supply the millions
of mouths in and about the capital. Far off, un-
der their guise of misty beauty, lie the mountains
of Asia — Olympus towering with a double crown !

The day is a choice one as to wind and water.
Our chat goes merrily round. The soldiers are
drilling at the barracks on the Straits by the sound
of the trumpet, the fishermen and venders of veg-
etables ply their trade, and the city grows dim
and dimmer in the distance. Now a quietude set-
tles over our company. Some draw out their
books, and others recline on the divans and lazily
watch the plashing waves in the wake of this little
dapper darling midshipmite of- the sea.

But we are nearing our island. Lovely terraces
and vine-clad hills greet the eye in every direction.
We are closing up packages and gathering shawls
and coats, when a sudden cessation in the ma-
chinery creates as sudden a surprise. " We are
stranded," says our Capitano. Our friend on board
immediately lowers the flag to half-mast, and in ten
minutes we see a little sail-boat bearing speedily
towards us. Our host had seen the mishap. We
are soon transferred and landed at the scala, or
quay, where in carriages we are rapidly driven to
our destination. The gravelled drive to the steps,
the warm greetings on the balcony and the chaffing
as to cold luncheons, are soon over. We settle
down to a most thorough enjoyment of this lovely

40 THE PRINCES ISLES.

island home. We are a party of ten, and yet
abundant room is found for night entertainment as
well as day. The grounds without are terraced to
the water's edge. Arbors, fountains, rustic bridges
and cool grottoes tempt the straying feet. A lawn-
tennis court is ready for its devotees. The caiques
lie rocking idly on the water within reach of
those romantically inclined. Even a small barca
is unloading its generous supply of oats for the
stables hard by at this private wharf.

The house is large and airy — filled with bric-a-
brac of every description. I notice one peculiar-
ity, similar to our Southern homes ! The " cui-
sine " is apart from the house ; but connected there-
to by a bridge.

I ask the hostess, " What is it ? "

She replies : " Oh ! we call that the Bridge of
Sighs."

I think it is well named, if the mistress has often
to entertain as generously as she is doing to-day.
To my relief I found out afterward that there was
a capable housekeeper on the premises to aid our
lady hostess.

One thing here strikes an American as peculiar,
and yet it is a custom that might well be introduced
with us. I refer to the breakfast hour. Each
guest descends to the dining-room when he or
she may choose, or may ring for coffee in their
rooms. As coffee or tea, with eggs and bread, or

AN AMERICAN HOME.

some kind of confiture, jelly or jam only are given,
it is not so difficult to serve one's guests. The
custom gives ease and comfort to the lazy ones,
and does not interfere with early risers.

A drive around the island develops more beauty
and shows us the most luxuriant vegetation. As
we are lavish in our admiration, our host seems
to enjoy our pleasure with us.

" And to think," says he, ''it is only four years
since, that I took these bare rocks in their savage
estate and have thus transformed them. All the
growth of tree and shrub is in that four years."

It is indeed marvellous. But it belongs to the
islands. It is entirely characteristic — this lux-
urious growth of plants and trees of every clime.

" But," I ask our host, " where did you get this
beautiful finish of room and hall ? It is not of the
Turk — Turkish ? It looks more like a home in
America."

tl Ah ! you are right there," he answers, " for
every door, window and floor was imported from
the United States."

Our host and hostess are citizens of the United
States. The orders given in the Turkish lan-
guage seem quite musical to the ear, for as yet I
have not heard much beyond street cries, which
do not seem melodious.

All visits must end. The pretty little three-
year-old son of the host prattles away ; the young

42 THE PRINCES ISLES.

maiden daughter receives our parting adieus, the
host and hostess are hospitable with renewed in-
vitations, while we can only express our thanks
and pleasure for all we have enjoyed. It has been
a day of enjoyments unique indeed. The launch
brings us safely to the city. Another day has
gone by, idling in the Orient, but one rich in
delight of sun and wave, sky and atmosphere, and
charming entertainment. As I turn my eye to
the East, to leave these bluest of waters and skies,
" I drag at each remove a lengthening chain."

#####*##

Would you know how a cosmopolitan thus in-
troduced to the Orient settles down into snug
quarters at this end of the world ? It is not diffi-
cult, after such an experience as the foregoing.
At the risk of being tedious I will tell in the next
chapter, in my own words, something more of our
domesticities.

CHAPTER IV.

HOME LIFE IN PRINKIPO OUR NEIGHBORS LITTLE

GREEKS FISHERMEN AND SONGS.

IF our jaded American citizens can race across
the continent to the Rockies and Sierras to find
the domes of the Yosemite and the geysers of the
Yellowstone, or wander amidst the Alps of Switzer-
land and the Highlands of Scotland, or sail over
the Bay of Naples and through the fiords of Nor-
way in search of health and change of scene —
why may they not venture here, to these " Isles
of the Princes ? " They are only a fortnight
from New York, or four days from Paris by the
Oriental express railroad via Varna to Constanti-
nople. A day at Havre or Liverpool, a day at
Paris or London, another at Vienna, another at
glorious Buda-Pesth, a dash at Varna on the
Black Sea, and the next morning, at daylight, you
are at Cavak in the Bosphorus. A rest at Stam-
boul, arid in another day here you are ! in a villa
of your own choosing, or at a hotel where there is
every comfort, and where the scenery is unpar-
alleled and the air balmy.

Appreciating this suggestion, the American citi-

44 THE PRINCES ISLES.

zen, who pays for his minister abroad, will allow me
to make a picture of our new home at Prinkipo.
Already many of his compatriots of both sexes
have been within its sanctuary.

"Ah!" exclaims the travel-tired tourist from
Oregon or North Carolina — " ah ! what a solace
and a joy to see the blessed old banner. No such
beautiful ensign have I seen since I left Sandy
Hook. God bless the stars and stripes ! It is
all the dearer because no longer streaming upon
sea or land outside of America."

Thus is the loneliness of absence from home
relieved by a little color, and a symbol which ever
recalls to us our nation's pride and honor.

Our house does not rival, nor, indeed, equal by
many degrees, the superb chateaux of these fair
demesnes, or other mansions wherewithal the isle is
decorated ; but for seclusion, scenic prospect and
proximity to the pine forests, — as well as nearness
to Legation work, — it is all that the student, the
doctor, or the aesthetic could desire. Half way up
the mountain, — it faces to the sea and the north.
From its windows, if one could pierce the mountain
range of Asia Minor, there would be seen the olden
towers of Roumeli and Anatolia — the ancient
warders of the Bosphorus. But who would dispense
with these beautiful ranges of mountains even for
such romantic and historical additions to the view.
The highest peak is about fifteen hundred feet.

A TERRESTRIAL PARADISE. ,r

The range is crescent-shaped, as if emphasizing
the national emblem. The foot hills and open
vales reach to our Marmoran shore. They are
covered with cultivated fields from the Pendik
village and Phanar banks near Kadi Keui to the
side opposite, far across the Prinkipo channel,
which is here over two miles in width. What a
view from Stamboul and its minarets to the
white houses of San Stefano on the European
shore! The Prinkipo channel, along with the isles
of our small archipelago, is a lake in seeming.
That illusion is kept up as the sea runs south-east-
erly into the Gulf of Ismid, making the waters
appear enclosed on every side. Along these
shores are the remains of empire and commercial
greatness.

The mountains on this coast close our view.
But is not the sea blue here, and the bays and
harbors charming enough, without seeking to unroll
the endless panorama of land and sea, city and coun-
try, towers and mosques, mountains and clouds,
which this terrestrial paradise furnishes to the en-
chanted eye? Within a mile from our eyrie of
observation we can view the waves shimmering in
the morning sun and snowy sea birds riding on
the deep blue waves. Then the Asian mountains
are meshed at dawn in an airy web of many
hues ; at noon, behold them radiant in celestial
light ; and at eve, — see the glow upon them from

46 THE PRINCES ISLES.

the west is one unclouded blaze of roseate and im-
purpled living light !

I forget our household ! One cannot live upon
the whip-syllabub of descriptive scenery, however
entrancing the view may be.

We found a villa ready to be rented to one who
could "house-keep" it neatly. We wei£ approved
as apparently the proper tenants by the owner, an
elderly Greek lady of refinement and courtesy. She
lets her villa to us as she is about to depart for the
summer, to visit relatives in Athens. She leaves
it as tidy as any New England dame could wish.
In fact, as we alight at her gates about five o'clock
in the afternoon they seem to fly open magically,
and as we cross the threshold what a charming
picture is presented by the little dining-table
already prepared for its hungry guests, with its
hot, steaming soups, and ttageres and vases all
redolent of flowers, spice and fragrance.

But how can the masculine pen describe the
inner sanctuary of a home ? I call to aid the new
house-keeper and from her house-book quote
under protest :

I said to a friend: " Is this a Greek house?"

" Oh, I do not know that you would call it that
exactly ; it is a house of the country."

Let me then describe this " house of the coun-
try " : The tall stone walls and iron grating com-
pose the barrier and gateway. They are deco-

A HOUSE OF THE COUNTRY. 47

rated with huge pots of hydrangea, in full bloom.
The bell-knob hangs at this outer gate. You
enter a tessellated plaza before the house. This
admits you to the lower rooms, which are the
servants' quarters. As the house stands on the side-
hill, to find the front entrance you turn to the
right and ascend the white marble steps. These
steps are kept immaculate by Michealis, our
bright factotum. Here the high portico offers the
main entrance. A summer arbor covered with
that house-decorating plant, the wistaria, reminds
us of home, and graces the terrace. Above it
waves our own red, white and blue bunting, for
which Admiral Woods Pasha, a neighbor, has
already kindly provided a lofty staff. Some sym-
metrical fir-trees, a fountain with gold-fishes play-
ing in the basin, and the garden in miniature, com-
plete the terrace of the entrance. The black and
white pebble-stones set on edge after the Pompeian
manner, form fanciful designs of flower and foliage
in the pavement which extends around the house.
The tessellated walks remind us of the harem
gardens of Cairo and the deserted earthquaken
streets of Chios. A huge catalpa and a drooping
willow adorn the kitchen court. The steps to the
upper terraces are lined with fuchsia, geranium,
snow-white jasmine, verbena and other gay flower-
ing plants, while the terraces are fringed with
lemon and orange trees, whose golden fruit would

THE PRINCES ISLES.

have tempted Adam as well as Eve. It is quite
beautiful to see the fruit and flowers at the same
time upon these trees. They give present odor
and promise for the future, even though we may
not be the happy recipients of their favors.

Enter the house and you are at once in a large
square hall. This serves in summer-time as the
general social room of the family. On the left
and right are four large rooms. In some of the
more palatial houses of the isle the entrance-
hall includes two such end rooms, thus making
one large airy apartment. Upon the ground
floor we find a library and dining-room, both
green and beautiful with foliage and flower.
Folding glass doors at the end of the hall may be
closed for winter or left open for summer. In
either case, they reveal the stairway which leads
to an equally open and airy hall above, supplied
with wide divans in addition to other furnishings.
The bow-window here extends over the portico.
It makes an exceedingly attractive lounging
or smoking room. In the cities of the East it
is the practice to build this bow-window projecting
over the street below, and at four or five o'clock
in the afternoon, it is always occupied by a merry
group taking tea, sweets, fruit, or Turkish coffee.
Here they receive visitors or survey the outside
world of gay promenaders, and make laughing
comments on all that meets the eye.

VEGETABLE VENDERS. ^

We are happy in finding our island home far
up in the pure, dry air of the mountain amidst the
forests of pine. Every room has the indispensa-
ble divan ; and from the windows we have the ever
lovely views of the Sea of Marmora and the Asian
land, with their never tiring and ever changing
phases. Even now, at the outset of our experi-
ence, we have oranges, figs, and many vegetables
from the gardens above, which are included in our
leasehold.

It is amusing to hear the juvenile street venders
call out in their long drawling falsetto some of
these vegetables. The simple word bamia, be-
comes ba-ha-mi-a-a-ah ! This vegetable is a nov-
elty to us. It is not among our American prod-
ucts ; but it proves to be relishable. All vegeta-
bles and goods are " cried " before sold. They
come to your door on the numerous donkeys that
throng the island, or on the backs of the peddlers
who carry great show-cases of their wares. The
cries of the venders are monotonous, but they are
often varied by the recitation of some blind strolling
beggar. The latter goes his customary rounds
and enlivens the intense quietude of our surround-
ings by his plaintive appeal, in some verse of the
Koran inculcating charity. I must say that he
merits some reward, if it is only for his forbear-
ance to ring the area-bell, with which our street
mendicants of New York are all too familiar.

50 THE PRINCES ISLES.

Our gardener comes to us daily with his floral
offering for the table. There is always efflores-
cence enough for change and variety. This morn-
ing, for instance, Xenophon's bouquet consists of
the snow-white, sweet-scented jasmine. He looks
quite pleased when I compliment its beauty and
his taste. I ask to see his manner of arranging
the flowers. He has cut a pine branch with its
needles, and each tiny blossom is strung on each
needle point, thus saving the ravages of the scis-
sors on the plant, and making a neat cluster
bouquet in quicker time than our laborious gar-
deners with their broom-stick stems could rival.

Thus far you have been favored with a glance
into the diary of the newly inaugurated mistress
of the house.

It may be interesting to know upon what we
Greco-Americans subsist for food. Our milk and
butter come cheaply enough. They come across
the channel from Asia, from the fine farms upon
the slopes of the distant mountains. These farms
are in sight. They are rich in fruit as well as in
kine. We were told that we should find one treas-
ure in our Greek home — a goat. For awhile we
tried our domestic sheep's and goats' milk. Bah !
There is nothing like the original cow. There
lies before me, in the shape of a foot-long pine
stick, our milk account ! It is marked with many

ORIENTAL BOOK-KEEPING. $l

notches. On it my wife has written " 56 oks."
An ok is about two and a-half pounds, or in liquid
about a quart. The month's account is on the
stick. This is not an original plan of keeping ac-
counts. It is aboriginal in many lands. It struck
us as convenient and honest ; and when rendered,
there was no need of calling in arbitration. The
amount due at the end of the month was summed
up in notches and piasters.

The caiques, which whiten with their sails our
lake-like sea, bring to our docks the finest melons
of every variety. Among them is our nutmeg ;
but the best is the cassova. Its color within is
golden and its meat honey, with a dash of musk
and spice. Grapes soon begin to adorn Our table.
They are of various kinds ; but there is one peer-
less kind. No fruit has ever been grown upon
other parts of the earth equal to the fruit which
September welcomes here, chief of which is the
grape known as tchaouch uzum. While Europe
and America may excel in pears, apples and plums,
Asia has the most delicious fruit of royal clusters.
The tchaouch is of pure gold and of plum-like size
and rotundity. Its very pronunciation makes the
mouth moisten. The hills around Tcham Lidja,
where these grapes grow, are the Mecca of
crowds of the lovers of this Bacchanalian fruit.
Here the harem makes its visit, breakfasting on
these grapes and bread. Sometimes this exquisite

52 THE PRINCES ISLES.

fruit is dried for winter use, but generally it is too
rich to be spoiled in that way. Amber is not more
beautiful in color. The cluster is very large and
weighty. It seems bursting with a. fruity bloom
and gives such aroma and flavor that the bees fol-
low it into the very penetralia of our salle a man-
ger. This luscious vintage inspires poetic fancies,
even before it is trodden in the wine-press—

" Less fragrant scents the unfolding rose exhales."

Peaches, plums, apricots and nectarines make up
a picture for the table as well as a feast for the
epicure. For meats, we have lamb and mutton,
beef and chickens ; for vegetables, there are varie-
ties not known to the cuisine of the West, among
which is the damia, only not our bean, but more
unctuous and toothsome than the marrow-fat pea.
What could we wish for beside ? Fish ? Yes, the
Propontis is the resting-place of the " fishy Bos-
phorus," as it was called in ancient days. It is the
home of the fish called the mullet, as well also of
the turbot and the mackerel, and a dainty, shining,
nameless little beauty, quite delicate even without
sauce. These disportively abound. The fishing
with hook and line is spoiled by the nets which one
sees actively employed at all hours, and wherever the
shelving, pebbly shores and eddies invite. Indeed,
the isles are surrounded with fishers' nets. You
may see their high poles standing in the bays, and

PEDDLER OF MEATS.

THE 'TALLIEN FISH TOWERS. ^

a platform or lookout attached, where a fisherman
watches for the schools late into the night. These
nets are placed so as to catch the current, and as
the water is clear it is easy for the experienced
eye of the watchman to see when the fish enter the
net. He then pulls the string and the finny fel-
lows are entrapped. These platforms, or watch-
towers, are seen on the upper Bosphorus as well
as here. They are called "Talliens." This is a
corruption of the word " Italians," as that race
were the first fishermen here to use this peculiar
tower of observation.

We often fish in another mode, in company with
these Zebedees. When the caique is sufficiently
far out from shore, they throw out one end of the
net, this end being buoyed up by a cork or gourd;
and then, after the boat has described a circle, they
throw quantities of stones into the water within
it, — stones which they always carry in the boat for
this purpose. These startle the fish from their
quiet depths, and drive them swimming hither and
thither, and thus they are more than likely to be
ensnared. Fish, like our milk, meats and vege-
tables, are brought to our door, and are less costly
than in America.

From the fishermen of Judea the world has
learned much. The Greek fishers who convey
us about these isles are not picturesque, nor statu-
esque, but they are Hellenic in many ways, and

THE PRINCES ISLES.

chiefly in their worship of the waters. As they sit
on the sandy beaches carolling their weird songs
and mending their nets, they bring to memory the
apostolic employment. They are both classic
and biblical.

What boatmen, what fishermen, what male
nereides these Greeks are ! How deftly they ply
the oar ! how neatly they untie a string or fix a
hook ! with what taste they arrange the fish when
caught ! For example : " I go afishing " with old
Nicholi on the east side of the island ; we catch
about fifty of all kinds, including some rouget.
These rougets are dainties fit for Lucullus. They
are worth, in the parlance here, twenty-five piasters
per ok. A piaster is nearly five cents and an ok
between two and three pounds. In arranging them
in the basket, Nicholi turns up their heads and lays
out their tails, so as to make gold and silver radii.
The big shiny fish are the centre, they form the
hub. Then with a stick he strips the scales from
the rouget. The rouget immediately blushes a
rich crimson, at the indignity of this disrobing.
Then he arranges the colors so as to make every
other spoke in the radiant " mess " fiery with the
red hue. Is this the result of that inborn love for
the beautiful which is Grecian ?

When the army of Xenophon on its famous re-
treat reached these very waters, their inborn love
of Neptune's element burst forth in shouts of joy

THE TWO XENOPHONS. ^

-" Thalassa ! Thalassa ! "—The sea ! The sea ! I
get this not from Xenophon my gardener, but from
old Anabasis himself, who reposes on the shelf of
the library.

The Greeks still love the sea. Not to speak of
pirates who used to infest the archipelago, one
need only look at the inimitable big sailing ships
which plough toward the Euxine, after their own
peculiar golden fleece, — which is horned cattle and
grain from Russia, — to appreciate their spirit of
marine adventure. With their isles and coast lines
how could they do otherwise than love the water ?

They had fountains which were sacred to their
genii. Was not Arethusa the nymph who, when
chased by her lover, turned into a fountain ?
Diana changed her, chaste goddess that she was !
Water was ever sacred to her. It is the emblem
of purity in the East. The rivers of the earth are
the children of Oceanus and his sister, besides
having three thousand oceanides — little ones of
the sea. Mauray must have descended from the
Greeks of Maronia, to have discerned the thou-
sand streams and currents in the bosom of the deep.
When Peleus would dedicate a lock of Achilles'
hair, he bore it to the river Sporcheios. Peleus
was a relative of Neptune and the father of the
irascible hero of Homer. The Pulians sacrificed a
bull to Alpheios, which was a river of Peloponnesus.
It had a knack of running under ground, very

tj 6 TflE PRINCES ISLES.

near the scenes of classic Olympus. It excited
mystery and devotion. Spenser, in his " Faerie
Queen," makes some rare stanzas about a congre-
gation of the rivers of Britain. He copies the pict-
ure from Themis, the goddess of law and justice—
the first personification of a virtue — who summoned
the streams of Greece to a great Olympian Legis-
lature— I suppose, for improvement and appropri-
ations. Oceanus and the fountains were regarded
as divinities. How much the people of a dry
land like Greece must have appreciated streams !
Mr. Gladstone in his "Juventus Mundi," regarded
this water worship of the Greek as coming from a
different race; but Sir John Lubbock, who is bet-
ter authority on this point than Gladstone, says
that this water worship was only an earlier stage
of the development of Grecian mythology.

The question is likely to occur to the reader :
" How do you get along with your household
and neighbors as to language ? Do you speak
ancient Greek, and will that answer for modern
uses ?"

Let me rise to a personal explanation. Mr.
Speaker ! — Ah ! Oh ! I beg pardon, — Ladies and
gentlemen : —

There are two kinds of language spoken by the
modern Greek. One is called the Nooheknia.
It is the regeneration of the ancient language, and
is said to be the more classical and elegant of the

MODERN AND ANCIENT GREEK. ^

two. It is called " regenerated" because it differs
from the other — Romaic. The regeneration of
this language is supposed, in part, to be the elim-
ination of all Turkish words and phrases. As a
vehicle of thought it is growing rapidly ; but it is
very unlike the ancient Greek, except in its printed
form. It is more or less tinctured with the French
in .its modes of expression. Hearing it spoken in
the theatre at Constantinople, I have been struck
with its vivacious turns of expression. That it
is capable of great eloquence, tenderness and
music I do not doubt. In the provinces where
Greek is spoken it is said to be very difficult for
the peasants to understand a Greek newspaper;
while in Athens among the dlite, the most
ordinary word familiar to the provinces is unintel-
ligible. It is said by one who is conversant with
these dialects that the younger Athenians of to-
day would have greater difficulty in communi-
cating with the Greek peasants or fishermen in
Turkey, or even in Greece, than with foreigners
possessing a superficial knowledge acquired in the
mountain districts.

Judging by certain plays which I have seen per-
formed in the modern Greek language, I think
the sense of pathos is more predominant in that
language than humor, although there is a close
alliance between the two. As one not unobserv-
ant of humor, I may be allowed to say that the

^g THE PRINCES ISLES.

Greek has it, but not in the refinement, which is
one of the last or highest reaches of civilization.
The Greeks are not wanting in broad fun. There
is much amusement in their ballads. They have
a quickness or vivacity somewhat like the French
or Irish, which is the spirit of witty retort ; but of
that kind of humor or wit which sees the incon-
gruity of things there is not much trace in their
nature. This may be accounted for by the condi-
tion of the people, living as they do in a state of
insecurity, and their experiences tending toward
the lugubrious. And yet, like the Irish, the Greeks,
with all their disappointments and oppressions, are
not wanting in a sense of that liveliness which is
the source as well of poetry as of humor. Their
every-day language bears the same relation to the
written modern Greek language as the Saxon did
to the Norman, or the Turkish to the Arabic. As
for understanding the special Greek/tftoV of these
isles, we do not dare to begin its study. A few
words of daily use at the table or about the house
are all that we need, as our own servants,
Pedro, the Dalmatian Slav, and Marie, the Arme-
nian maid, both speak the modern Greek in its
simplicity, as well as the Turkish language.

Who and what are our neighbors ? They live
along the road and up the mountain side. They
too are Greeks. All make courtesy to us. From
the day we enter our green-grilled gate to the pres-

LOCAL COUR TES Y IN GREE TINGS. c g

ent writing, there is the uniform bow and salutation,
" Kale mare ! " Good day ! or " Kale spero ! " Good
evening ! It is pleasant to receive salutation from
the children. It puts one's politeness to its best
vigilance, as the children are plentiful. Our three
nearest households have between them — eighteen !
Had I come to Prinkipo when younger, say
three decades ago, nothing but my sex could have
stopped my maternal instincts. The isle is cele-
brated in that respect. These little Greeks bear
grand classic names. Let them be perpetuated.
Some few have ecclesiastical names, but the classics
are in the majority. If I had to canvass Prinkipo
for Congress, I would first cultivate the classics,
then orthodoxy. For every Michael there are two
Herodotuses ; for every Antonio, two Lycurguses ;
for every Nicholas, two Pisistratuses. The Marys
are plentiful, but the Helens are more so.
The equivocal reputation of Aspasia has not pre-
vented many namesakes. Our femme de chambre
is called Theano ! One of the fishermen is called
Phaon, from that jolly mariner or ferryman of
Lesbos, with whom Sappho fell in love before she
fell into the sea. How sad ! Her love was unre-
quited. Our gardener rejoices in the name Xeno-
phon. He is neither historian nor philosopher, and
he never heard of Socrates. In fact, he had never
heard of his own great namesake. My wife said to
him one day : " Did you ever hear of your an-

60 THE PRINCES ISLES.

cestor Xenophon, who was not only a handsome
soldier but a great writer many hundred years
before Christ ? "

He smiles, ponders a little and .with a slight
play of fancy, as if he thought the madame were
humorous, says : " I know no such man ; but I
know Xennie, who carries water to our garden."
And this was the nickname for the pupil of Soc-
rates, the historian, and soul of the Anabasis !
This is the pet name of the hero who twenty-three
hundred years before, had visited Byzantium, after
his famous retreat over rough lands for fifteen
months, making 1155 parasangs. In one thing our
gardener resembles his namesake. He has that
simplicity of style which was the relief of my cal-
low college days, and an integrity of character
worthy of Socratic teaching.

One does not enjoy his beef less because his
butcher is called Pausanius, or his beans more
because his gardener is called Xenophon. Nor do
we enjoy our ice-cream, fruits, music, or the little
courtesies of the isle the less, because they come
to us upon the hills of Prinkipo tendered by An-
astasia and Euphrosyne ; or depreciate our pur-
chases because Demetrius and Theodosius stand
sponsor for the wares which they peddle along
the highways of the isle. Our cook is named Kat-
arina. Is it a German name? No: it is Greek.
She has been cook in the family from whom we

ICE-CREAM PEDDLER.

GREEK RELICS.

rent for thirty years. They call her Amty, — which
is modern Greek, I suppose, for " Aunty." Thus
our South is reproduced with its nomenclature.
Of the children who play around our house in the
alley above and in the valley below, you may read
their names in the Odyssey or in Mitford ; or, call
the roll of the Amphictyonic Congress, and they
will not be absent, like so many of our American
Solons, when their names are called.

While musing upon the various names which
are rich in classic and historic lore, I pick up a
volume which is a part of my diversion occasion-
ally. It is that of a literary tourist, travelling in
the neighborhood of Athens. He is repeating, of
course, some of Childe Harold's exclamations
about " Fair Greece ! " — sad relic of departed
worth, immortal, though no more ! when he is
tapped familiarly on the back by a so-called son
of modern Athens, very likely a composite of Dal-
matian, Saracen, German, French and Italian.
This Athenian speaks to him in the vilest French.
He points out, at the entrance of the harbor of
the Piraeus, the tomb of Themistocles, saying:
" Voila! the tomb of our greatest man!" The
tourist thanks him, and asks him for his card.

" I am," said he, « Miltiades."

The tourist starts back.

" What ! "

The stranger smiles a savage grin and says :

62 THE PRINCES ISLES.

" At your service."

"Who are you?" I inquire.

11 A laquais de place" he replies.

" Is it possible ! the hero of Marathon so re-
duced ! "

» Oh !" says he, " I knew them all."

" Who— all?" I ask.

" Those poor gentlemen of Marathon."

He confesses — this tourist — that his dream of
Grecian beauty and greatness is over ; but that
is the hard English way of looking at the world.

The sports of children are typical of their lives.
Even bankers' sons fly many-colored kites, and
fly them skilfully, as their fathers do on the
bourses of Europe. The little urchins in our
vicinity are histrionically inclined — inchoate Sopho-
cleses and ^Eschyluses. They play house-keeping
and horse, and occasionally have a Greek funeral,
with priest, corpse and pall-bearers. They show
their classic heredity, for they are running over
with dramatic mimicry.

The other day the children were much excited.
They gathered on the hill side in front of our
house, and began to clear away the pine needles
and cones to make a smooth floor for a restaurant,
or Diaskalon. Ropes were extended, upon which
hung from the trees in colored papers the flags of
the different nations.

BLESSING THE GRAPE. 5^

uWhat are they doing?" — we inquire of our
domestics.

" Oh, Excellency, it is a fete day among the
Orthodox."

The children had caught the contagion. They
are copying the caffantes on the mountains,
whither to-day streams of pious Greeks are
wending.

"Why this fete?" we ask.

" Excellency, it is the beginning of the grape
season."

The people of the isle gather at the monastery
and church of Christos, above, where the good
Papa has baskets of the succulent vintage, in rich
golden and purple clusters. These are blessed,
and each person comes up to the altar and re-
ceives one of the blessed bunches.

Is this one of the Pagan rites which the ortho-
dox Greek covers with a thin veneering of Chris-
tianity ? If so, is it so very bad to be a little
Paganistic ? Indeed, it savors of the " first good
and first fair," and deserves to be celebrated ; as
much so as our Thanksgiving, with its turkey roast
and pumpkin rites.

Between our point of view at the villa and the sea,
there is nothing to interrupt the vision. We over-
look the eastern end of the elder village by the
shore. Immediately on the east is a Swiss valley.
It is Swiss in its depth and picturesqueness. In

64 THE PRINCES ISLES.

its' hollow are a few cottages, and on its sides some
villas. This vale is a mile long, and runs up
to the middle depression of the island. It is
covered by a vineyard, interspersed with fig-trees
now bearing fruit; and rich in their large fresh
green leaves. Olive trees here and there silver
the scene, and mingle with the few stately
cypresses, once marking tombs which are now lost
in the cultivation and changes of the soil.

Out of this valley there comes tripping a little
fairy of the vineyard and fig-tree. She is singing
a song whose evanescent music, with its quavers
and turns, none but a Greek girl can master.
Her mother is a donkey proprietress, and she
allows her pet to salute our flag and its interterri-
toriality with her favorite roundelay.

This little one is my nearest neighbor.
When I walk up through the groves and take my
place, with a book, upon the circular stone seat
under the umbrage of the pine trees, " midway up
the mount," I hear her voice from the valley
gradually nearing, until that voice becomes em-
bodied, as she stands half panting with her race up
the acclivity, yet trilling her " Pipini " roundelay !
I insert a translation and notation of this popular
song and its melody ; * but the donkey queen will
not allow me to transport to a New Atlantis her
little Prinkipo princess.

* See pages 66 and 67.

GREEK FOLK LORE.

It is very touching to see how, from lip to lip,
simple verses like these will awaken a whole pop-
ulation to the influences of music in its quick anfl
vivacious expression. With the simplicity of a
primeval ballad, the " Mother Goose " melody con-
quers all tongues and hearts.

Another of these peculiar melodies or poems re-
minds me of the ballads which are sung in the
nursery. I cannot translate it, for I do not under-
stand the original.

The burden of the song is about an old man
who keeps a cock, which wakes the lonely old man.
A fox comes by and wakes the cock which waked
the lonely old man. Then a dog comes along; it
killed the fox that ate the cock that crowed and
waked the lonely old man. And so on, until the
log falls down and kills the dog, and the furnace
burns the log, and a river quenches the furnace,
and an ox drinks up the river, and a wolf eats the
ox, and a shepherd kills the wolf, and at last the
plague carries off the shepherd who killed the wolf,
that ate the ox, that drank up the river, that
quenched the furnace, that burned the log, that
killed the dog, that ate the fox, that ate the cock,
that crowed and waked the lonely old man !
Something after this manner is not unfamiliar
to the little ones of all lands.

There is a folk lore among the Greek peasantry,

which has its moralities, and this is assimilated in

66 THE PRINCES ISLES.

THE BIRD SONG.
ct T6 native."

The little bird that I loved, that I still adore-
Little birdie, my darling ;
For thee, birdie, I'm sighing.

The little dear bird has fled and will return no more
Come back, birdie, my darling,
Oh ! where are you flying ?

Oh ! cruel birdie ! Oh ! come back, before it is too late.

Little birdie, my dear ;

My prayer won't you hear?
Return, my pretty bird, to me, seek not a better fate ;

Come back, birdie, my dear,

For thy fate I fear !

You have, birdie, my heart ; it has for long been thine,
Birdie, my heart you carry:
To come back, oh ! do not tarry.

Return me, birdie, thine heart and come to nestle in

mine.

Come back, birdie, come back, darling,
For thee, birdie, I'm sighing.

THE BIRD SONG.
tc To 77flriw."

:tfc=J=t*

=Ef

.pr .. r ff — F^*- ~— (* -. ~f ~<*>~~n~'i* y — \~f i* ^ — P — g

68 THE PRINCES ISLES.

many ways with that of the Orient. Of course it
is more or less influenced by magic, and hence it is
Persian, or Arabic. It has in it a whole circus of
interjected horses, and bevies of maidens in wilder-
nesses or in shipwrecks. It is full of wicked sub-
ject matters, but everywhere it is replete with
the marvellous. The myths of ancient Greece
or the Sagas of Norseland are not more pene-
trated with the supernatural than are the bal-
lads and fables in the modern Greek language.
Many of these fables and stories are the same
which we hear repeated in our own tongue. They
are, in other forms, the substance of Uncle Remus'
stories of the fauna of our own woods ; and these
stories have an Oriental flavor, which came to the
original Guinea or Congo slave when the religion
of Mahomet spread through the Dark Continent
to these unhappy exiles of our ante-revolutionary
years.

CHAPTER V.

PRINKIPO ITS GARDENS AND VILLAS.

How is the island watered ? For so fruitful a
spot, it must have water. There is some dew,
and that refreshes the vines, which are in great
abundance. The vine does not seem to need
showers, for in summer there are none worth not-
ing. Wells of water are dug, and the Egyptian
mode of pumping by ox, horse or man power is
resorted to in the best places. On the east and
west sides, where the isle is lowest and the
gardens of melons and vegetables are many, the
water is drawn by hand. We start with full cis-
terns, but these do not hold out long, and we are
soon obliged to join the numberless households
around us who live by this locomotive irrigation.
Twice a day the picturesque scene presents itself
at our garden gate — Antonius and his four pet
donkey companions, with their surroundings and
not unmusical voices. The gold-fishes must live
.in the fountain and the flowers must flourish on
the terraces. Ergo, the cistern and fountain must
be supplied. And Xenophon, like his great name-
sake, must work on a great scale, and so, with

JQ THE PRINCES ISLES.

lavish hand he distributes to his cherished wards
that which costs him nothing and which gives them
beauty and fragrance.

But where are the beautiful lawns of other
lands ? Where the fresh green grass to cool the
hot air and relieve the eye ? These are not. The
grass will not grow at all on this island. Under
the pine trees the needles are so thickly strewn
that they pave the ground and make the walks
quite slippery. The shrubbery is of a larger vari-
ety than elsewhere. It reminds me of the fragrant
machieoi Corsica, of which Napoleon said, that he
<( could shut his eyes and smell it," when he was a
prisoner in far off St. Helena. Nearly all of the
islands are covered by this shrubbery, where the
trees and rocks permit. It is a sort of heather.
I see the women and men folk gathering it for
"yarbes," as its roots are medicinal.

There is a quasi grass grown here, perhaps quite
as pretty as our grass. It is called Lepia.
Whether this is the right spelling or not, I do not
know. Whether it be derived from lepits, a hare,
which feeds on it ; or lepas, a shell-fish ; or lepidics,
pleasant — it makes no difference, so long as
it makes a pleasant lawn, whether for rabbit or
barnacle. It is very petite and delicate, and of a
pinkish white in color. Upon its tiny petals
the bees and other honey-suckers buzz all day
long. Butterflies of gorgeous hues and large size

WATER-CARRIERS.

A FAMOUS EPICAL GARDEN. ^

vie with the tiny humming-birds of purple tint
which invade our garden. This quasi grass can
be shaven, and then it makes a pleasant lawn, but
in so doing the little fragrant flower must fall with
the gardener's knife for awhile, until the new blos-
soms come again. It forms a very attractive
addition to the parterres of these island homes.

Our villa is a miniature compared with the su-
perb villas which line the lofty terraces by the sea-
shore, and within whose enclosures the tamarind,
magnolia and oleander flourish. The best houses
are roofed with red tiles. They are gay with ve-
randas and covered with creepers. They are either
pink, white or yellow with fresh paint. Every-
where embowered, they make pictures worthy of
the Greek gardens of Antinous.

It is neither pedantry nor exaggeration to com-
pare these island villas to the classic garden of
Homer's Alcinous in the Phseacian Isle (Corfu),
where that "much experienced," wise old man,
Ulysses, was harbored for a season. To be prosy,
let me make an inventory of that famous epical
garden : It has four acres , edged with green, and
tall trees, cypresses, we suppose. There are red-
dening apples, ripening to gold ; blue, luscious
figs ; red pomegranates ; heavy pears, and perenni-
ally verdant olives. Whenever one fruit drops,
another takes its place. The seasons are so mild
that blooms, buds and fruit appear together. The

72 THE PRINCES ISLES.

vines are ranked in order, some fit to pluck, some
to make raisins, and some for wine. While some
are in flower, others are in grape. Some are just
coloring and some are purple with autumn. Beds
of herbs are ever green. Fountains shake their
silver in the sun. Streams abound as visitors to
the roots of the plants, and pipes with water con-
nect with palace and city.

All this, and more, is here, with proper hydro-
statics and irrigation, in the palatial gardens of
Prinkipo. There are windmills, colored like Iris,
perpetually pumping, with a grateful sea breeze as
the motor. The breeze is a good worker and sel-
dom " strikes," except for a few summer days.
Attached to house, stable and office are mystic
lines for telegraph and telephone, which deep.
browed Homer never vouchsafed to his heroes or
gods, with all their lording over lightning and
thundering oratory from Olympus.

There is one house here upon the island which
has on the outside, what most mansions have
within, viz. : exquisite colored tiles. This is very
unique. Its doors, porticoes and windows are
richly gilded and gracefully carved. It is but a
cottage, but it ever excites comment and admira-
tion, followed by the exclamation : "Why does an
old bachelor keep so much of beauty to himself,
instead of sharing it with a wife ? "

Many years ago this isle was thickly peopled.

AN ENTERPRISING MALTESE. ^

The people disappeared and the isle became a
waste, remaining thus until only a few short years
ago. It was a mountain of pine trees in a land
denuded of other vegetation. Like all such places,
it had to have a pioneer. Out of his enterprise,
within a half century, Prinkipo has become a
second garden of Eden. His name will be per-
petuated, for the first hotel of the island is named
after him, though it is located back and above that
of Signora Calypso, of the Homeric epic. Signer
Giacomo started early here. He kept goats and
loved America. He was a Maltese. That means
that he was more or less of a mixed race. Doubt-
less he was mostly Italian. He was a devout Cath-
olic. He came to these waters of the East a little
ragged, sailor imp. He was employed at a store
in Galata. There is a Maltese street there yet,
and through its fragrant purlieu I often ride, but
seldom walk. I hurriedly go through this rueful
rue, where Limburger cheese exchanges its odor
with herring, and onions help assafcetida to dilate
the nostril, ad unco naso.

After Giacomo's successes at Galata, he came
here and constructed houses around his own
larger house, and upon terraced plateaux that rose
in loveliness to the mountain top. He decorated
his terraces with a profusion of his favorite white
roses, whose fragrance was wafted far out at sea ;
thus in some manner, as it were, compensating in

-4 THE PRINCES ISLES.

his opulent days for the infragrance of his work in
the time of youthful poverty. What forty years
ago was " Giacomo's Delight " is now no more.
It is gone ; but the Giacomo Hotel with its pretty
terraces survives. It overlooks its rival, " The Ca-
lypso : " so, when Greek meets Maltese there is
a tug. Giacomo had a wife. She loved him and
music passing well ; but the island or her talent
did not furnish as much music as her husband did
diamonds for her adornment. So she bought a
barrel organ, and turned the handle. Handel
would have turned in his tomb if he had heard it.
The husband cultivated plants and statues. She
looked after the barrel organ and ironing. When
he came home and hung up his broad-brimmed
hat over a plaster cast of Diana, she quit her laun-
dry and took to Handel. He, Giacomo, had a
gun. Quails filled his larder, and the gun seldom
hung at rest near the statue of the divine hunt-
ress. With due regard for the religious cultiva-
tion of his own household and his neighbors' he
caused a church to be built. He made a very
happy speech in its honor on the opening of its
doors to the Catholic community. It was the first
Catholic church on this isle.

As I pass the hotel bearing his name, I take off
my hat. Why not ? Giacomo loved America. I
wander over the terraces, among the umbrageous,
gravelled walks so cleanly kept. I receive the

THE HOME OF CALYPSO. ^

greetings of mine host of " The Giacomo," who
proves to be a brother of mine host of the " Hotel
Royal," our winter home at Constantinople. He
bears the Greek patronym of Logothetti — or
" word bearer."

Everywhere upon these isles we are reminded
of our classics, and of Homer especially. "Ca-
lypso " carries us back not merely to our college
days, but four thousand years.

There has been much discussion between geog-
raphers and other learned men, as to which one
of the Grecian islands was inhabited by Calypso.
Some have supposed the Island of Fano was the
fateful isle. This has been denied strenuously,
for it is admitted that there is nothing very attrac-
tive about that rocky island. An American in
passing by it, called it a " darned spot, only good
for sharpening a slate pencil." Still the classic
books generally regard Fano as the old Ogygia.
The argument to prove that this unpronounceable
and unmusical Greek island was that of the allur-
ing Calypso, is its position. It lies between the
south of Italy and Corfu, in the middle of the
channel which leads into the Adriatic. Another
argument, quite weak, however, is the fact that
Ulysses took twenty-one days to get from Ogygia
to Corfu. To know whether this was or was not
good sailing, one should make inquiry as to the
kind of vessel he sailed in, and the kind of weather

76 THE PRINCES ISLES.

he had. According to Homer, Ggygia, where
resided the beautiful-haired goddess, was supposed
to be \henombril of the sea, dp.pa.Xbs QojAoor^ just as
Delphi was called by the Greeks the navel of the
earth. Calypso, as we know, was the daughter of
Oceanus ; and Oceanus was a river-god, and ac-
cording to a correct knowledge of our rotund star,
whose roundness Herodotus laughed at, the river
was supposed to flow swiftly around the earth.
One thing, however, is proven by a learned pun-
dit, and that is that this island of Calypso occu-
pied a prominent position between Cadiz and
Troy. This is as much as to say that the town
of Kalamazoo is situated somewhere between San
Francisco and Boston. Pliny has something to
say about this remarkable island. He asserts that
it was not far from Cape Colonna, at the entrance
of the Gulf of Tarento. There is nothing against
this learned supposition, except that no such island
can now be found on the charts. However, it is
not unusual in the Mediterranean for an island
to pop up in the day, and pop under over night.
In fact, the island may be nothing but a myth ;
but the myths of Homer, to one who lives upon a
Grecian island, become so real that we forget they
are mythological. Here, we regard his heroes,
divinities and localities as real personages and
solid facts. Especially are they so regarded when

SUMMER KIOSKS. ^

such a substantial and festive modern Greek tav-
ern is called " The Calypso."

The gardens around many of the more splendid
edifices of Prinkipo extend down to the grotesque
rocks on the shore, upon which hang, in quaint style,
summer kiosks, or bath houses. Nearly all the ele-
gant houses have in the corners of their grounds
summer houses, where in the evening or after
dinner the family gathers and visitors are wel-
comed, and where tea and coffee are served.

At the scala, or on the verandas, or in these
kiosks, you may observe the consummate charms
of this isle. Murray, in his hand-book, says of
Prinkipo : " The air is mild and healthy, and the
heat in summer by no means so oppressive as at
Constantinople ; and the women are said to be the
most beautiful in the world."

This last sentence shall be the text of a chapter
by itself, dedicated to the beauties of the isle.

CHAPTER VI.

PRINKIPO NO RUNNING WATER STRANGE NOISES—

THE VOCIFEROUS DONKEY THE BIRDS.

THE traveller to the Arctics notes the glory of
the aurora borealis, the stupendous glaciers, the
superb fiords, and sublime mountains ; but he
notes also the absence of running water. With-
out this element of beauty, no landscape, however
grand, is perfect. Even in the upper Alps, where
the tintinnabulation of the sheep-bells is faint, and
the torrents give only a murmur from below, the
eye tires of the frozen rigidity of all within its
range. Here, on these isles, there is this draw-
back ; yet running water is not missed so much,
as nature supplies so many other beauties. No
brooklet here sings between osiers and alders ; no
mountain stream bounds between crags and over
boulders, making motion and music.

Along the mountain sides we perceive long
lines and piles of broken stones. What are they ?
The debris, or moraines, left by torrents of a past
age ? Are these the relics of a once watery way,
or are they the ground-rubble of a glacial age ?

It was some time before my unscientific mindre-

WATERS OF CELESTIAL BLUE. ^

sponded to these queries. Pedro, whose very name
signifies a rock, inclined me to the opinion that
they were the once gathered yet now scattered re-
mains of boundary walls, when Prinkipo was in
the height of her refinement and culture. What
have we to do with such puzzles here ? Have we
not the magic climate, the narrow girth which
confines the essential beauty, the atmospheric tints
which color the mountain features, beautiful flow-
ers in cultivated gardens, refreshing nooks under
the umbrage of pine, olive, oak and fig, groves
of endless variety, gray stones and moss-covered
rocks, shrubbery whose fragrance sweetens the
sense, and a shore whose indentations remind one
of Prospero's isle, where the lover may load the
air with sighs in the " odd' angle of the isle ? " All
these we have ; but alas ! no running streams, no
tinkling fountains with thin sheafs of prismatic
silver, and no lakes and cascades to give the isle
more melody. But we have sea water of the love-
liest tint — the celestial hue of blue. Should not
that of itself suffice ?

The ancient Greeks made much out of their
restricted water privileges.

What classic, historic and poetic splendors sur-
round the rivulets of Cephissus and Ilissus !
They were monstered into wonders. They had
nymphs and naiads innumerable. The Missouris
and Danubes, Amazons and Rio Grandes are as

8o THE PRINCES ISLES.

nothing comparable to the Scamander of Troy.
What will not genius expand and fancy glorify !
If the aqueous sterility of Greece conduced to its
greatness, what will be said of the aggrandizement
of America, with its Ohio, Hudson and Mississippi,
its lakes and its gulfs, its Atlantic and Pacific ?

The voices of the isle are numerous. In such a
secluded spot, even the hum of a bee is noticed.
When the north-west wind comes to make its
streaks of shadow and its dimples of beauty on the
sea, the sighing thereof is soft-noted ; and when
evening comes, and the sun with a ruddy, violet
haze makes charming silhouettes out of the nine
isles of the archipelago, the wind begins to play
on its piney keys, with an autumnal solemn sound,
like that of a rich-toned organ. In its pauses you
sometimes hear the sonorous tremolo of the train
across the channel in Asia, as it rumbles along the
railroad between Hadji-Ali and Ismid, and sweeps
the chords of another age and civilization. In the
evening, as we pass the venerable church of Chris-
tos, we hear the chants of the parish Emphemerios.
They sound as if half hushed within a sepulchre,
like the service for the dead, with its piteous Kyrie
Eleison ; Christ^ Bodtheson. Breaking in on the
solemnity comes the pertinacious, shrill, rasping
monotone of the cicada. This insect is as old as
Homer. He likens it to a piping old man whose
voice is thinned by age. He describes it as be-

THE ASIATIC CHANTICLEER. 3r

longing to a bloodless race, which in summer days
" rejoice with feeble voice."

This insect, from the midst of the isle, and by
the sounding shore, sends up its scrannel piping
through the pines of the Diaskalon to arouse the
monks of Christos for their matins. The very
roosters of old Asia, across the channel, respond
in greetings to the god of day and the isles of the
sea. These cocks act as if they were the chartered
libertines of the East, because nearest the auroral
gate. Thus nature salutes the sacred sun, as
through Heaven's portals he blazes to give the
cheering ray and golden day. This sentiment is
Homeric ; but the chanticleer has become a sign
and clarion of patriotism ; for his voice arouses
our Dalmatian serviteur, who prepares to raise our
flag upon its staff to continue the salute. Along
with the domestic flap of our neighbors' fowls, I
can hear from my open window the patriotic flap
of our bunting, as I sink off again in dreams of
home.

This grasshopper, alias locust, alias katydid,
or alias cicada, is a sign of dry weather. In these
Greek isles, as in Cyprus, Necessity has taxed her
maternal solicitude to find some mode for its de-
struction. It spoils the crops. I do not know
that it is so destructive on these as on other isl-
ands, but it is very numerous, and it must live
on something green. Hence, there is much con-
6

g2 THE PRINCES ISLES.

cern about the cicada. Judging by the sound, it
is as dry as a militia regiment on a muster day.
Some one — is it Tennyson ? — generalizes by say-
ing :—

" At eve, a dry cicala sung."

Cicala is Italian for katydid, grasshopper or
cicada. The latter is the scientific term. Cicala
philologically indicates that the bird wants a drink.
You can never see the insect ; it is as green as the
tree on which it chirps. Chirp ? Yes ; for it does
not sing. Its hemipterous membranous transpar-
ency is in a scrape on the under side of itself, and
grates out by friction a shrill monotone, which on
this island is only equalled in its annoyance by the
unmelodious bray of the festive jackass. Its fals-
etto is relieved by snatches of sprightly Greek
songs, trilled in girlish glee by shoeless little Cal-
liopes, which rise in treblous hilarity from the cot-
tages of the valley below.

At dawn we are awakened by three peculiar
sounds. One is the " strain of strutting chanti-
cleer." This is Shakespeare's expression in the
" Tempest " ; so that the herald of the dawn be-
longed to other enchanted isles. It is literally a
strain — which means an effort ; for the firstlings of
the chicken tribe try their tiny throats with a
feeble agony which soon arouses the ire and ambi-
tion of the elder cocks. These make the isle ring

MORNING CALLS AND ECHOES. 33

from, side to side with their clarion voices ; and St.
George's Mount takes up the shrill crow, which
St. Nicholas echoes. Dreams here ? Dreams in
the early morning ? Mayhap ; — but not rosy.

Another noise begins. At first it is an equiv-
ocal sort of bruit. Is it the distant thunder from
Olympus ? Is it the rolling of the Ismid train
again ? It starts afar. It approaches ! It is — no !
—yes ! it is the jackass Diapason ! " It frights the
isle from its propriety."

Be it known that nearly all the locomotion of
these isles is done by these meek children of
misery. I am prepared to defend them for their
patience, industry and docility. I am ready to die
believing in their good sense, despite the libels
upon their long ears, as significant of obtuseness.
I have been familiar with them at home and abroad
—in and out of Congress. They are not insensi-
ble to kindnesses. They are not donkeys in the
sense of dulness. I am in sympathy with Cole-
ridge's elegy to the ass's colt. In monumental
Egypt ; around thy walls, O Jerusalem ; and over
the mountains of these princely isles, I have be-
come their confidant and familiar. When Athana-
sius, our donkey driver, — long may he be immor-
tal ! — brings from below his white jackass arrayed
in gold cloth, with blue beads on its noble fore-
head and around its milky neck — to keep off the
evil eye — I know that I have a safe companion

THE PRINCES ISLES,

for the pleasant paths of the pine woods. But
there is something too much of this animal on the
isle, if one would seek quiet rest in the morning.
When donkey parties meet on the roads, there is
much recognition and confusion. I demand of
Athan'asius the reason of this sonorous braying.
He responds :

" You ought, Excellency, to hear them in the
month of May, when Jack salutes his Jenny, a
mile or more distant, and when the general jubilee
of affection begins its vociferate attentions ; " or
words to that effect.

After all, it is their affectionate nature that must
speak out in these inharmonious numbers. It is
said that in the isle of Crete, whence Homer im-
ported Stentor for his epic, the shepherds, owing
to the pure air, can be heard calling to their flocks
three miles and more distant. The undulations
of the air here furnish the same facility for sound.
The isle, by conformation, is a vast microphone.
Nothing is lost in the limbo of silence.

When Monsieur Chanticleer has quit his strut-
ting and crowing ; when Madame Poulet has
finished clucking her morning "lay;" when the
wind is quiescent and the star-spangled flag hangs
limp by its staff, and the cries of the bread and
vegetable mongers are stilled — then, as if by some
infernal pre-concert this ear-benumbing noise of
the amorous and jocund jackass begins again. It

MOR E BRA YING. g 5

starts with an exaggerated case of. asthma.
This rasps the soul. It is as if the beast would
lose and then catch his bated breath, with a harsh,
squeaky sibilation — until a roar, as of forty hun-
gry lions of the desert, comes to its infinite relief.
It would seem as if all the powers of wheezy,
whistling, gasping suction were exhausted. And
so it is ; but then follow the terrific expirations of
the bellowing monster ! This process of suction
and emission is repeated with ''damnable itera-
tion," until it dies out in an agony unutterable —
long drawn out. I can recall in adolescent asso-
ciation with the paternal saw-mill, agonizing creak-
ings of ungreased timber-wheels, and the filing of
saws on a frosty morning. I have had recent expe-
rience of the screaming shadoof, turned by blind
buffaloes, pumping the Nile upon the fruitful land.
In time I became accustomed to these chromatic
eccentricities ; but no one, not even the inhab-
itants of these isles, can ever become tolerant
of this braying. When the Equus Prinkipo
begins, as he does by lifting the upper lip
and showing his white teeth, the driver takes pre-
cautions against too prolonged an agony. He
makes a wild and desperate rush for Asinus. He
beats and kicks him. He jerks his head up, down
and awry. But still undaunted, the animal roars
again and again ; and his congeners from the town
below on the shore, yea, even afar off to the Dias-

86 THE PRINCES ISLES.

kalon on the summit, take up the horrid refrain, until
one would think Enceladus had walked out of the
sunless chambers of the earth to bellow upon the
affrighted air. Oh ! that these donkeys were
like the lion indeed, — not of natural history, but of
the species Bottom would have played in such an
" aggravating voice " that he would roar you as
gently as any sucking dove, or any nightingale.
Certainly, Shakespeare, who was fond of locating
his midsummer fancies upon enchanted isles, must
have heard of these donkeys of Prinkipo, when
he said : " The isle is full of noises."

I am not prepared to join in the general objur-
gation against this animal. He has excellent
qualities. It is the duty of just criticism to dis-
criminate and not judge too harshly. It is said of
the mule that he is the meanest of brutes. I
would not be unjust to him even. I admit that he
has plenty of total depravity in his hind legs. I
further admit that he is more obstinate than his
step-brother ; but has he not the same evangelical
expression of countenance ? As the mule is only
half an ass, dispraise of him must be discounted at
the beginning fifty per cent. I assert boldly that
there are good mules as well as good donkeys. It
is a great mistake to suppose that the obstinacy
which belongs to both animals is a vice. On the
contrary, it is a virtue. Does not this quality of
nature give strength of character and courage ?

FAMIL Y PRIDE.

Much has been said and written of the pride of
birth. Much wit has been expended in relation
to that pride. But it has never been applied ex-
cept in derision of the donkey. This is unjust.
Humble though his present station may be, he is
of an ancient family. Royalty is shown in the
thistle of his escutcheon. He has much more
reason to be proud than the mule. He has no
bar sinister on his shield. It may not be generally
known that the mule has an arrogant and offens-
ive pride, which amounts to vanity. The pride of
the mule is in some respects justifiable. It is in-
herited. It comes from his maternal connections.
Perhaps it is because of this that the mule joins in
the general objurgation against his father, the don-
key. If an ass is thrown with a pack of mules, he
is sure to be badly treated, kicked and curled like
a poor relatiori ; while the horse is treated with
the most distinguished consideration. The mule
is always anxious to be near his equine relative.
Those who are accustomed to these animals will
verify this remarkable statement. Yet with all his
faults the mule is a true patriot ; he served gal-
lantly in the late war, and has not applied for a
pension ! He took rank in the quartermaster's de-
partment and became a " brevet horse."

The ass is by no means a stupid beast ; he is
contemplative. He belongs to the tropical cli-
mate. The horse belongs to the colder latitude

gg THE PRINCES ISLES.

and supplies almost its every emergency. The
ass is Oriental. His progenitor is from Central
Asia. He has long served as a domestic in its
regions. From there he went down into Egypt.
He is the offspring of a splendid civilization. The
Bible, which is a Semitic book, has niany references
to him, both in the satire in relation to Baalam, and
in the beautiful entry into Jerusalem. The ass has
been exalted by the Arab. He came in with the
Caliphs. He shared their honors. My recollection
is precise that when I was asked to ride to the Pyr-
amids, or to make a tour around ancient Thebes,
the admiring and eloquent donkey contractor never
failed to dignify the animal with such names as
" Washington," " Grant," and "Yankee Doodle."

The donkey of Egypt is quite an improvement
on all other donkeys that I have observed in the
Eastern world. His breeding is of high antiquity.
Great attention is paid to his pedigree : as much
as to that of the horse. In that warm climate
there are donkey barbers, who clip his hair in
order to prevent him from suffering from the
heat. When kept for private use this quadru-
ped is sometimes dressed in splendid housings,
rich and gaudy, — having on a high pad or sad-
dle upon which one may even lie down in com-
fort. This aristocrat is by no means a sample,
however, of the ordinary animal, even in Egypt,
much less of those we find in Prinkipo.

f I

AN EGYPTIAN INVENTION.

I am inclined to tell a story at the risk of in-
credulity. When in Egypt, in the winter of 1886,
the donkey I rode, — which was named Sardanap-
alus, because he fared so sumptuously, — became
overweary in our long ride to the temple of Abydos,
on the border of the desert. He was taken into
the cool chambers and hitched amidst its cyclopian
pillars. Under the very eye of a painted Rameses,
he hung up his head by his upper teeth to a ledge
of the structure, and thus rested. I thought at
first he was fascinated by the double-crowned
king of Egypt, who peered down at him with
almond eyes ; but no ! it was a little contrivance
of his own to hold up his heavy head.

I once served on a Committee on Foreign
Affairs in the House of Representatives with a
member from Nevada. He has since been Minis-
ter to the Sandwich Islands. In the absence of
better business before the Committee, he on one
occasion entertained that body with a description
of a contest between a grizzly bear and a jackass.
The idea that the grizzly had failed in the contest
gave great satisfaction to the Foreign Affairs
Committee. It has been my constant delight
since that time to review the terrific contest as
depicted by the then member from the Sierras.
If he did not exaggerate, as doubtless he did not,
there never was in the history of animated nature
a beast with such belligerent propensities. They

THE PRINCES ISLES.

reached even to his extremities. How he de-
feated the grizzly bear ; how he won the hearts
of the Nevada people ; how he pursued his enemy
until the last element and microbe of its being
was annihilated, can only be told by the ex-editor
of the Nevada Enterprise, whose "lecture" on
that subject deserves to be filed with his diplo-
matic correspondence with King Kalakaua !

My memory of his description of this fighting
animal, recalled in the land of the Homeric Greek,
makes me tolerant of its vociferation in the early
morning. I have been told that after this victory,
Nevada seriously contemplated giving a place to
the donkey in her armorial bearings ; and that it
was only prevented by a chivalrous spirit of inter-
State comity which would avoid offence to Califor-
nia's grizzly shield.

Every defence of this patient animal, by per-
sons in or out of authority, has been welcome.
When questions are asked by his representative
in Congress, when the heads of departments send
in their reports, when a constituent writes for
the agricultural report — which frequently contains
his portrait, — when a newspaper makes inordinate
or irrational humor, well, — I feel like defending
the donkey against the attacks which the incon-
siderate may make. ^Esop, in his fables, and the
world, with its satire, have made light of his ra-
tional attributes. He is yet to be thoroughly vin-

4 I

THE ASS IN HISTORY. QI

dicated. A French poet once said : " A force de
malheurs Vane est inter essant" Some of our
comic papers in New York have shown that the
ass is conspicuously an ass when he does not know
it. Oftentimes an irrational person may call a
man an ass. He does not intend to, but gener-
ally he wrongs the animal.

I like the theology of India. It reverences all
animals. The souls of men even inspired and
often ventured within the precincts and anatomy
of the animal after death.

I am proud to confirm the statement of the
member of Congress from Nevada, that the ass is
a warrior. On the authority of Voltaire, I may
allege that Mirvan, the twenty-first Caliph, was
called " The Ass" for his valor. Homer compared
the coward Paris to a horse ;,but when he sought
for a heroic synonym to glorify Ajax, he likened
him to an ass.

Greece and Rome were careful to produce the
best breed of these animals. They were more
precious than slaves in the market. Our own
Bible has many allusions to this animal. It
makes him sacred. The wild ass of Job may not
have the equine thunder in his neck ; he may not
snuff the battle from afar ; but he is, nevertheless,
good at a fight when it is near. He is a magnifi-
cent figure in Biblical history. We know his
relation with the life of the Holy Family.

<p2 THE PRINCES ISLES.

Any one who has seen the Arab, or the donkey,
whether in Egypt, in Syria, or in these isles,
will understand that the family is not less holy
by the presence of this animal.

Why is it that the ass's head never figured
among the gargoyles and other strange carviogs
in the architecture of the Middle Ages? There
must have been a prejudice at that time against all
sedate and reverent objects. Coming down to a
later time, it is not unusual to see the ass led in
grand procession in the solemn ceremonies of the
Church. Chants were sung in his honor. Even
imitations of his braying, certainly more musical
than those of Prinkipo, were heard in the re-
sponses of the assistants who took up the melodi-
ous noises and gave harmony to the mediaeval
mind.

What though this animal have the power by its
voice to arouse us in the early morning ; why
should we be sluggard, when the virtues of pa-
tience and humility, which are typified in his life
and manners, are given for our instruction ? Let
us not be iconoclasts. Let us believe in the dig-
nity of the ass. Let him be rewarded, not as a
degenerate horse and the subject of universal rid-
icule, but as an illustrious object of all the ages,
having the qualities of antiquity and goodness,
faithful among the faithless, and by no means to
be disregarded because of his capacity of hearing.

THE SONG OF THE BULBUL. ^

It cannot be denied that the ass does sometimes
allow us inhabitants of Prinkipo a respite from his
music. It is at eventide. When the day begins,
the donkeys are at their useful work, as carriers of
water, provender, materials, furniture and persons.
When the evening comes with its soothing light
on the hill sides and amidst the pine shades , when
families begin to pack up their rugs and dishes,
preparing for a descent from the picnic grounds ;
when lovers begin softly to steal away and coo
amidst the rocks ; when the flecked and shaggy
trunks and limbs of the old pines begin to cast their
long shadows over the sinuosities of the paths —
oh ! then comes the quietude beyond all other
spots of earth. Then each person may wander
at will over the cliffs and under the silent groves,
utterly isolate with the summer sea that makes
no murmur against the placid shore.

I have the same fondness for birds in which
George Sand delighted. They are almost as
indispensable in a landscape as trees or running
waters. When we first came to Prinkipo, in the
late spring, there was at daybreak, in the olive
trees of our neighbor, a bird which I persisted in
recognizing as a nightingale. Such " liquid sweet-
ness long drawn out," must have belonged to the
bulbul. He made love to our roses like a true
Oriental. He made love to a whole garden or
harem of roses — the profligate ! However, he

94 THE PRINCES ISLES.

departed as mysteriously as he came. The little
brown rossingnol, which our " Amty," the cook,
kept caged under the catalpa tree in the back
court, refused to sing any more responses. Her
heart was off in the further East, where the seven
rivers of Damascus are accordant and these birds
sing the summer-time away.

Then we have swallows, who make their dudish
toilets early in the summer. They cleave the clear
air of the mountain sides, dart out of the vine-
yards, and flit amidst the pine trees, never
seeming to alight. They are quite tame and
fearless. One morning while sauntering up the
mountain I notice that two of these birds are
following me. When I stop they hover about my
head ; sometimes within arm's length. I marvel.
What does it mean ? Am I near a nest ? Are
these the mother and father of a brood, as to
whose safety the parents are apprehensive ? I
move on. Still they follow, darting far down into
the valley, then sweeping on their electric wing
to the very crown of the mountain and about
the crown of my hat. I reason that they have
been domesticated at the hearthstone or in the
chimney, and so I solve the problem. A month
or so ago, one morning, a cloud of blackbirds,
our own cornfield larcener, took possession of the
woods of the isle. They are known here as petty

ISLAND ORNITHOLOGY. gc

crows, and do much damage. They soon left for
better foraging.

This isle is distinguished for quail. They
come about the first of September in great flocks.
Already some of the pioneers have heralded
their approach. From the hills opposite our
villa shots are heard in the morning. When
the season is full it is dangerous to be about the
woods, the shots are so numerous. These
birds are migrating from the grain plateaus
of Russia to the balmier fields of Egypt. Their
resort here reminds me of the wild pigeons in
the West — in Ohio, in my old district in Licking
County, where for years they were wont to come
and roost as regularly as the seasons came. They
made the air black. They covered trees and fences
with their multitudes. The quail here are not so
numerous ; but they fill the shrubbery. Some of
the rich folk of the isle are buying up preserves
to limit their destruction. After a few weeks' rest,
during which they are massacred by the thousands,
— even by boys with sticks, — the survivors take
flight over the sea to San Stefano, or the shores of
the Hellespont, en route for " winter sunbeams."
Their flight and multitude raise a question about the
quails of the wilderness, when Israel was hungry.

CHAPTER VII.

COMPOSITE PEOPLE OF PRINKIPO OLD CUSTOMS AND

REVELS ITALIAN INFLUENCE.

ALTHOUGH, as I have said, the mass of the popu-
lation and visitors upon these isles are Greeks,
yet there are many sojourners belonging to other
nationalities. These are French, Italian, English,
German, Russian, Greek and Armenian. It is
not infrequently that we hear a veritable Pente-
cost. In these polyglotical accomplishments the
Levantines are pre-eminent. They are the de-
scendants— somewhat mixed — of all the commer-
cial and adventurous people who have sought the
Orient and its capital for occupation and emolu-
ment. Many wear the fez ; these are the subjects
of the Porte. As we take our excursions by car-
riage and donkey, horse and foot, over these
mountains and through these valleys, we often
meet, ascending the hill in a palanquin, some aris-
tocratic lady. She is loath to quit the old custom,
—one by no means inconvenient or abandoned in
Constantinople. We meet families and groups of
these Levantine people. Most of them — of both
sexes — dress like Europeans. Until they speak,

A POLYGLOT BARBER. -

it is difficult to tell one race from the other.
Even then, as most of them speak Italian, French
and Greek, it is difficult. The Greek predomi-
nates even above the Levantine. The Italian is
next. The French tongue is used mostly among
the wealthy and official classes. The Levantine
inherits from his ancestor facile organs of speech.
So easy are these organs that it is no trouble to
form, in a mechanical way, by the chorda vocales,
with tongue, mouth and lips, the various sounds
and the words of the various dialects of the " seven-
ty-two nations," of which Constantinople boasts.
Whether this be one of the evidences of heredity,
certainly it is remarkable how open-mouthed and
comfortable these people are, who for generations
have talked a dozen languages, and can roll the
words, spread the syllables and intone the sentences
of these different tongues. I know of children
who, while accomplished in French, English, Greek
and Turkish, revel in Russian and grapple with
German, as with their playthings.

My first tonsorial experience is in a barber
shop of the old town of Prinkipo. Most of the
barbers are polyglotically inclined. My particular
barber is either a Greek, a Maltese, a Sclav, a
Bulgarian, or a Montenegrin. It is impossible at
first to tell his native tongue. He has French
glibly. He speaks a " leetle Inglis" and under-
stands less. He is well up in Italian, as many of

THE PRINCES ISLES.

the families in this vicinage are. He has some
knowledge of Spanish as kindred to the Italian.
This extraordinary learning always gives me a
shudder, and especially when under his razor or
shears. Being a stranger on the island, and hav-
ing no very pronounced national features, it was
equally difficult for him to ascertain my national-
ity, except by inquisition long and pitiless. All
I could do was to arm myself with the affirmatives
and negatives of various languages. With these,
I made myself complaisant, to save my face from
bloodshed. My first conversation with this artist
confirmed the general reputation as to the gossipy
quality of the Barber of Seville. He had all the
gossip of the isles, including its languages. The
conversation ran somewhat after this style :

BARBER : " You have been here long ? "

I reply in Bohemian, " Ne / "

He easily understood that.

" You are here for your health ?"

I reply in Danish, affirmatively and negatively,
"Ja ! " "Nei, minherre ! " " Yes, sir," and " No,
sir." This puzzled him.

" An army gentleman, perhaps ? "

I reply in German, " Nein, mein herr"

" O, then you are a navy officer?"

Having in view my position as Admiral of the
launch, I reply in Hungarian ; because, lucus a non

A BARBARIC CONTEST.

lucendo, Hungary is an inland country and like our
own, without a navy,

"Igen! "—^Yes."

" Your vessel is at Constantinople?"

Remembering that there was an Italian emi-
grant named Christopher Columbus of naval re-
nown, I reply: "Si, signore"

" You will bring your vessel to Prinkipo ?"

Ah ! here was my opportunity. It is the mod-
ern Greek in which I reply : " Nae vevayos"

He is thunderstruck. It is evidently his mother
tongue. Likely he has a Polish father; who
knows ? When he asks me in French :

" Will your vessel touch at Athens ?"

I respond in Polish, " Takf" No.

And then, with some hesitation, I add the
French word " Petttre" — Perhaps.

-You will visit Egypt?"

" Sim, senhor" This is Portuguese for " Yes, sir."

The gesture or the manner with which these re-
sponses are made encourages him ; for he immedi-
ately asks whether I have ever been in Albania.
I have no negative or affirmative in any of the
languages of the Adriatic. My Dalmatian servi-
tor, Pedro, is absent and my next best affirmative
is in Russian.

"Do prawda" Perhaps, being affiliated with
the Sclav, he understands this language.

" You have never been in Egypt ? "

I00 THE PRINCES ISLES.

As the pine and the palm are associated in my
mind, and having connected the Polar Midnight
Sun with the Pyramids of the Pharaohs, I respond
in Swedish, making it intense, —

"Ja ! " Adding a little affirmative in Roumanian
to give intensity to the remark, " Gze."

After a pause in the conversation he resumes.
He believes that he has my nationality fixed. He
surmises that I am from some Balkan province,
and he asks :

" Have you been in Roumelia, Bulgaria,
Servia, Montenegro and Herzegovina?"

Knowing that I could not answer this truthfully,
and not being able to answer it partially, I give
him back in Roumanian an emphatic negative :

" Na canna, bucca"

11 You have been quite a traveller ! "

This suggests the Chinese as the fitting Ian*
guage for the affirmative, and I say :

" She ! "

Having no reference to Haggard's novel ; for it
was not then out. To make the "she" expres-
sive, I add another affirmative which I had care-
fully studied while boarding with the Chirrese
Legation in Washington.

" Tajin!"

" You like the Chinese, monsieur?"

Having succeeded so well with the Chinese, I
answer promptly in the negative :

AN INTERESTING TALK. IQI

This monosyllable disgusts him. His subordi-
nates gather around the chair where I was being
shaved, interested in this composite conversation.
The artist then asks if I had visited Jerusalem.
Here was my great break-down. Notwithstanding
I had represented a Hebrew community in New
York, with more synagogues than Jerusalem had
in the time of Solomon, I was at a loss for a
Hebrew affirmative. Happy thought ! I re-
spond promptly in the Arabic tongue, with its
guttural peculiarity :
9 "Na'am"

It sounded to me after I uttered it like profan-
ity, and I fell back as gracefully as I could, waiting
for the next attack, and equipped with a Japanese
expletive.

''You like Constantinople ?"

I respond in a sweet Japanese accent :

" Sama, san / "

" How long have you been in Constantinople ?"

I give it to him in English.

" I arrived there in the year 1851 — thirty-six
years ago."

" Mon Dieu !—mon Dieu ! — mon Dieu / " he ex-
claims.

"Have you lived there ever since that time?"

" Beaucoup, monsieur ! "

He has not yet learned my nationality. I am

102 THE PRINCES ISLES.

afraid every moment that he will strike America.
It comes :

" Perhaps you have been in America ? "

" Wa'al, yaas, I guess ! "

He could not understand this, for he had not
been educated at Robert College, nor had he
abided in Vermont.

I ask him in French which America he means.
He says :

" South America. I have a cousin of my wife's
there, and I would like to know how the country
looks."

" Le nom du cousin de votre femme f " I ask.

" Pierre Moulka Pari Michipopouli. He is
like you, monsieur, quite a traveller."

Then began a fusillade of questions and rattling
replies.

" You have lived in Paris, monsieur ? "

"Jamais ! " — Never. " Been to Genoa ? " " Si,
signore" " Ah, you are English, are you not?"
With the intense Turkish negative I respond :
"Yok!" "French?" "Won." "German?"
"Nem." "Sclav?" "Nee/" "Italian?" "No,
signore" " Ah ! Espagnol ? You look like one."
"Pardon, monsieur, I am not." " Well," said he,
taking breath, " will you tell me, monsieur,
where you do come from ? "

" Don't you remember the only nation in the

COSMOPOLITAN APPEA RANGES. 1 03

world where the barber is as good as a king ? " I
said proudly.

" Oh, Switzerland. Sapristi! Corpo de Bacco !"

Understanding that last remark perfectly, I offer
him a cigarette and say : " No, I am not Swiss."

"Brazeel?" "Jamats"

The way that barber rubs the unguent into my
hairless scalp and hirsute beard shows that he is a
disappointed man.

The next time I visit the shop I receive
marked attention. The hands all rise up. They
pick up the earth, in a Turkish salaam. They
distribute it in courtesy to the American Minis-
ter, whom they had meanwhile discovered. As I
had been frequently turned away from the doors
of our American Congress after twenty-five years'
service, because I did not act or look like a mem-
ber, so I was unrecognized here, by the " Oi
Barber oi? as having no national characterization.
America was the last race or people to which
this Greek barber assigned me.

Let me illustrate further. My wife and my-
self start out in a carriage for a turn about the
isle. We drive over the Christos road toward
what is called " The Saddle." There the vale
spreads into gardens, and leads, on either side,
by gentle depressions, to the sea. Here
are two caffane'es or diaskalons. Upon ter-
races, and under the shade of the pines, are sev-

IO4

THE PRINCES ISLES.

eral hundred tables, with seats all temptingly ar-
ranged. At various angles the blue sea is visible.
Here you may call for coffee, lemonade, wine or
milk. From the peddler, dressed in his spotless
robes, you may buy an ice , for he has a small
confectionery shop on his back, with dainty spoons
and dishes. Or you may do more : buy the toy
dishes, as Madame does, to carry home as souvenirs.
Our carriage has stopped on a terrace where there
is a picturesque family group of a dozen or more.
They are sitting or reclining on their mats or car
pets. The outer wrappings of the females are
hanging from the trees near by. They are having
a day's outing. A faithful white hound, at the foot
of the tree, keeps watch over the clothing. The
grown daughters are off climbing the neighboring
peak of St. George. We hear their laughter and
fun far up the mountain. The men are smoking
about in utter ease, while grandmother, mother,
servant and children roam about the woods. That
which attracts us most is the odd costume of the
children. It is made up of very gay-colored stuffs,
red, white and blue stripes alternating. It recalls
our own national emblem. Madame is en-
chanted, and calls one of the children to her for
examination. As the child cannot talk French
or English, only Turkish, Russian and Greek, her
petite teacher, dressed in the same ruddy trainless
garb, comes up courteously. She adds French to

MINERVA AS A MAIDED IOe

her accomplishments. Her name is Minerva
Kypriades. She is a Greek, twenty years of age,
and looks sixteen ! Her eyes are as black as her
raven hair. She is now on a vacation. She
ter~hes school in Odessa. She will not, however,
be called Russian, much less Turkish, although
born in Constantinople. She is Minerva
—helmet, spear and all, without the Gorgon
shield. She explains her costume as Russian,
— a dress not for the city, but for the
camfiagna - - and of the country of Mordovski.
It consists of a dark blue cotton skirt, with a
wide red border, heavily embroidered in gay
colors, red predominating, inserted above a very
deep hem. The waist is of blue cotton, with
the same style of gay collar as the trimming
or border of the skirt. Her flowing sleeves are of
alternate bands of red, white and blue, edged with
the lace of the country. A very large square
tablier, or apron, falls to the edge of the skirt.
This completes the attractive picture. I must not
forget the red silk scarf. It partly confines her
heavy black tresses. The same fabric is worn by
all the children. The young teacher has a heavy
cincture, a la Grec. The buckles are big and of
silver. Around her neck are several heavy gold
chains of peculiar workmanship. This tem-
porary governess of the children, whose grand-
mother sends them all to us in turn to make their

I06 THE PRINCES ISLES.

pretty obeisance, seems nothing loath to chat
fluently.

"Will not the children," I ask her, "give us a
specimen of their acquisitions ?"

" Yes, with pleasure."

She makes them form a circle, and they com-
mence their recitation. They make the pine
woods echo to their tender Demosthenic philippics
against the Turk. She has taught her little
charges patriotic and other verses, in which the
hated Ottoman comes in for vehement denunciation.
A small ten-year-old pupil recites an appeal to Gre-
cian patriotism. She casts furtive glances around
lest some furious Ottoman with big turban and
terrific scimitar should leap from the bushes.
Luckily, all are Greeks upon the grounds. The
youthful declaimer is allowed free range. Only
upon sympathetic ears falls the stirring and furi-
ous waves of Grecian anathema. Then a dialogue
is recited. Then the small child, in costume, recites
a Greek song, — in the modern Greek, of course —
which is in strange contrast with her infantile
voice and mien. " How does it sound, compared
with the ancient Greek ? " you perhaps ask. That I
can hardly answer. It is not unmusical. Its ca-
dences, at times, are quite like the Italian, and in
places it had some tough and harsh Teutonic
tones; but on the whole it is quite musical.

The conversation of those we meet, especially

PUNCH AND JUD Y SHO W.

107

that of the Greek women of this isle, is soft and
sweet in tone. Perhaps these young Graeco-Rus-
sians have given to the modern Greek pronuncia-
tion some jagged and ragged consonants which
are foreign to the broad vowelled, ore-rotundo
speech of the sweet South.

The performance of the children being over, we
call for ices and lemonade. A hurdy-gurdy ap-
proaches. We improvise a Russian dance of the
little ones en costume. Then, after much courtesy
from the group, we bid them "good-bye."

The young teacher promises to call at our
villa, where she has seen the flag. This she ac-
complishes at a propitious time with her pupils.
We receive them in the arbor overlooking the
road, and while listening to other recitations, we
are fortunate enough to see the Turkish " Punch
and Judy " approaching. The show is stopped and
a i^N piasters serve to reciprocate their entertain-
ment of us in the forest. And a funny one it
was.

The Turkish " Punch " is very grotesque. He car-
ries on his show through all the details from the
cradle to the wedding, and from the wedding to
the grave, with all the alternations of funny
episode.

We saw our little Greek teacher no more ; but
she kindly remembered our admiration of the
pretty Mordovski peasant costume, and sent

I03 THE PRINCES ISLES.

Madame an apron of many colors, embroidered
by her own cunning skill.

It is said that this isle is much changed since
the Crimean war. Then it was Turkish embarrass-
ment and Greek opportunity. The soldiers of
that war helped to give piquancy and adventure
to the pleasurable gatherings upon the isle.
Then the Greeks of both sexes met at these
places of recreation and diversion, with all their
bravery of talk and toilet. This was espe-
cially the case in the old town of Prinkipo, which
of late years has lost much of its prestige and at-
traction. Still its immense plane tree in the old
plaza spreads its shadow, and the restaurants
around it do a good business, amid many amusing
escapades.

The old town reminds one of a town in Italy.
It has narrow streets ; the markets are crowded
with fruit, fish and meat stalls, and the street is full
of donkeys and carriages, awaiting the arrival of
the boats from the city. There are many saloons
and coffee-houses, for the body of the folks are
Greeks, and Greeks dearly love a tavern. There
is in the homes of these traders and denizens
much to remind one of the Dutch housen.
They have a balcony or bay-window overhanging
the street, with lights and beauties looking out at
each end. The balcony is generally full of black-
eyed, black-haired girls, who gaze curiously at the

LO VE AND RAKI.

passers-by. The old town once had its own pier
of debarkation and embarkation. That pier is
now in ruins, having given way to the more preten-
tious stone scala, in the new town.

What merry times those were when the Maygar
coffee-house supplied with its music, viands and
intrigues the company which met around the big
plane tree for coquetry and deviltry.

Then husbands and brothers here met wives
and sisters, to say nothing of lovers, to smoke
cigarettes, drink lemonade and sherbet, and eat
the walnuts already peeled and cracked. Then it
was crowded of an evening, not as the scald res-
taurant is now, to hear the music of the brass
band, discoursing operatic airs, but to listen to an
Arab band of tomtoms and flageolets. This bar-
baric music seems to encourage the drinking of
raki by the men. This white whiskey of the
Orient is worse than Jersey lightning. Whether
it was the music or the liquor that made them " rak-
ish," is not told by gossipy tradition. But at the
time of which I speak, it was the mode for the
fashionable beauties — Greek and Armenian — to sit
amidst the smoke and the raki fumes, on the little
stools yet in vogue along the Bosphorus, for the ad-
miration of the ruder sex. The Maygar hotel yet re-
mains, not far from the present scala ; but it lacks
the great overshadowing plane tree, whose roots and
boughs were protected as all old trees are here, by

j I0 THE PRINCES ISLES.

a stone wall, and whose wooden seats and stools
about the trunk were dimly lighted by lamps from
its spreading branches. Caffantes surrounded the
tree ; and while the Arab band played, torches burned
and threw their shimmering light on the Greek
and Armenian beauties seated around. Then there
was a scene unknown to the witcheries of the
present wooing world. These torches were called
madahs. We still see them on the hills upon all
festal nights. Then the Greeks burned them in
honor of their "flames." The color is light blue,
and much favored by those who represent Hamlet's
father, in a proper ghostly style. When, there-
fore, in the good old time, a lover wished espe-
cially to honor his inamorata, he confidentially in-
formed the master of the caff ante that he must
burn so many madahs at his expense, and throw the
light so as to designate and honor the " She "•
whose " fair divided excellence lies in him." Then
the elected beauty shone out as a star. Envy glit-
tered in other eyes. The swain arose and made
his Oriental salaam toward the dark-eyed beauty,
while the tom-tom of the tambourine and the scrap-
ing of the viols celebrated this novel mode of elec-
tion. On some occasions, when too much madah
or raki was on board, little fortunes were spent
by rich young Greeks, in honor of their favorite
Helens. This was the mode of courting by the
light of the moon ; for madah means " moonlight."

CONJOINT PA TRIO TISM. j j r

When enacted by droning music and crazy mastic
its spectral light must have been effective. All
that is changed now.

When the United States man-of-war " Kear-
sarge " was here about the Fourth of July, at the
request of the citizens I asked Admiral Franklin
if he could send his brass band to the scala, to
play for the assembled islanders. He acquiesced.
Its music made ®ur flag known and popular.
When I went down on the Sunday evening prome-
nade, after the performance, I found our flag grace-
fully entwined with the Turkish ensign over the
archway of one of the cafes. The stars add their
glow to the crescent. This conjoint patriotism is
as inspiring as the heaven above is glorious with
the crescent moon and the brilliant constellations
of the deep Oriental sky. There is an Arab band
of six robustious Maltese performing. Our patriot-
ism succumbs to curiosity. The crowd seems en-
tranced by the weird music of the strange instru-
ments. There are two fiddles, a tambourine of fish
skin, and a sort of zither. These make tinkling
noises to the rapid movements of the vocalization
which are appetizers to the thirsty Greeks. The
Arab music brings Egypt to my memory. All
that is wanting to make the illusion perfect is a
bevy of brown-browed dancing girls. The dim
lamp in a sepulchral hall displays strange cross-
legged folk, smoking on divers divans. This

1 ! 2 THE PRINCES ISLES.

Arabic style of droning scarcely changes a note for
an hour. The words sung are loose love-words.
It is fortunate that the Arab tongue is not well
known. Mendelssohn's "Songs Without Words"
would have been more decorous.

At every turn and angle in these isles and waters
there is something to remind one of Italy ; and
especially of Naples, Genoa, Pisa and Venice.
There is, vice versa, much in* superb Genoa, and
palatial Venice in her primal bridal beauty, to
remind us of these Grecian isles and Orient lands.
Ischia and Procida are the hand-maidens of
Naples, veiled with a violet haze, which gives them
their witchery of loveliness. The Genoese tower
at Galata dominates the Golden Horn with a
proud and ancient glory. Upon the Moslem Sun-
day this tower flies the ruddy crescent, — a symbol
of dynastic change. You cannot tread the narrow
declivities of Galata without coming upon evi-
dences of Italian supremacy there in the elder
time, for Galata was once an Italian city, and the
seat of an immense commerce. The Venetian pal-
ace is almost concealed by its plebeian surround-
ings. It has remained as the property of Austria,
whose Legation is therein established ; for on the
secession of Venetia from Austria, Italy did not
reclaim this Oriental possession. The most sig-
nificant reminder of pristine Italian glory in these

DANDOLO'S TOMB. j j .

lands it was my fortune to find in the upper gal-
lery of St. Sophia.

The other day, in walking over the worn stone
pavement of the women's gallery of the old Greek
edifice of St. Sophia — lo ! Dandolo, the blind non-
ogenarian of the Latin conquest of Constantino-
ple at the beginning of the thirteenth century.
Not in the body do we discover him. The place
of his burial is unknown ; although it is known
that the heroic old doge and ambassador to Con-
stantinople had St. Chrysostom's church for his
sepulchre. There at my very feet, almost dust-
hidden, I spell out his name ! His name is quite
legible. It gave a spell to the " Stones of Venice,"
which Ruskin has not catalogued. Like the stones
of Memnon, even in the dim light from the dusty
windows of that immense corridor, — it gives its
music from another sphere. Captor of Zara, soul
of the Fourth Crusade, and Nemesis of the Com-
nenus, it was his fire and vigor, when blind and
aged, which compassed the fall of Stamboul,
despite its 478 towers, its eighteen miles of triple
walls, its fosses and fortifications, and its thousand
years of immunity. Here he lies — somewhere
under the spacious dome ; but his fame has not
died. The dragoman of our Legation, Gargiulo,
who was with me when we discovered his monu-
mental stone, is himself of Italian descent. He

THE PRINCES ISLES.

has promised me to rescue his bones and indite his
history.

This incident is mentioned that the reader may
not marvel at the quantity and quality of the
musical dialects spoken in and around Constanti-
nople. The variety of speech is the consequence
of the enterprise and eminence of Italy in the Middle
Ages. Why, St. Mark's at Venice is but a copy of
St. Sophia, almost its original ! The latter was
spoiled to decorate the former. What spoils !
what opulence and imagery ! what pillars and al-
tars ! " Ouida," who lives and writes at Venice, and
receives much of her weird and luxurious fancies
out of its very stones, has stormed against the
abolition of the fairy gondolas and the introduc-
tion of steam tugs with their Cardiff smirch upon
the poetic and, I may add, the unfragrant canals.
She protests in vain. It is like my lady of the
twelfth century in her boudoir, embroidering a
shepherd and his love, hurling furious obloquy
against the loom of Jacquard. Let her Venetians
restore St. Sophia ! But no ! It is Venice that
is being "restored." Since 1840 St. Mark's, which
had been sinking into the mud, has been under-
going repair to establish its stability. Many a
strange inscription appears in the transformation.
Art not architecture, it is said, gave St. Mark's to
the world. It was rather artifice than art. Its
foundations and dome stand amid the changeful

SPOILS FROM ST. SOPHIA. j j r

dynasties and religions. No shoving or bracing
is needed at St. Sophia ; what is needed is that
which once glorified it. When the Moslem white-
wash is scraped off and the stolen property re-
turned, what a wealth of art will reappear in the
church of the Divine Wisdom ! When that is
done we will all join in the Te Deiim Laudamus,
even though it be chanted in the sweet tongue
of the Italian spoiler. " 111 got, ill gone," says the
proverb. In spite of all efforts to save the splen-
did pile of St. Mark's it is cracked irremediably
The lagoons, like time, are slowly hiding its
beauties. No Mosaic wand can drive back the
Adriatic. No Dandolo, like the Danish king,
lives to say to the Adriatic : " Thus far ! and no
farther!" Under the great dome of St. Mark's
the tide ebbs and flows, or such tide as the Med-
iterranean has to ebb and flow. No sealed
crypt keeps out impermeably its ooze. The floors
are breaking up. The invaluable decorations will
soon follow. The mosaics are being effaced by
the tourists' feet. Soon St. Mark's must be a new
structure, on new foundations, or she will perish.

It is not the Genoese tower, that stands on a
treeless promontory of Halki, looking toward
Stamboul, that alone marks the footsteps of Italy
over these isles and lands. The hotels and the
tinge of the Levantine patois show the recent

1 1 6 THE PRINCES ISLES.

prevalence of Italian trade and growth on these
shores. Wordsworth sung of Venice :

" Once she did hold the gorgeous East in fee."

But now Italy is impotent to stay the great white
Czar, or to do more than make the protest which
she helped others to enforce in the Crimean war.
Still Italy, next to France, is the relict radiance of
European domination in these waters of the com-
mercial Orient !

CHAPTER VIII.

PRINKIPO ITS MONASTERY OF ST. GEORGE.

THE mist rolls away from my enchanted isle by
five in the morning, if there be a mist ; or if not,
the morning star sings "its spirit ditty of no
tone," and departs. Then there is a reproduction
of the evening before. It glows and glories over
the Asian mountains. Their outlines are revealed
in roseate tints ; and when the sun-god is fully
adrive in his car, there appears a series of pictures
on water and on land from minaretted Stamboul
to the scattered villas at the base of the Bithynian
mountains. Windows glance with their diamond
splendors, morn and evening, like Prince Arthur's
shield, whose brilliancy was so dazzling that it was
covered with a veil, and "which to wight he never
wont disclosed." The sails of the caiques show
whiter as they sail. The sea-mews glisten,
blanched in the light, as they sport on wave and
in air. The early shepherd carols, as he goes his
rounds for the pasturage of his mixed flock of
goats and sheep. There is a fresher scent to the
wild shrubbery and to the pine odor. The arbu-

117

I !g THE PRINCES ISLES.

tus and cistus take away the stony glare of the
ground. They garland the very vertebrae of the
isle. The vineyards come forth in the morning
lustre, with new dew, all prismatic ; and the olive-
trees give to their peculiar dull verdancy a fresher
than their normal legal-tender tint of silver. The
lidless eye of God looks upon the prospect and it
rejoices. It is new born of a night of starry splen-
dor !

As the sun rises in the heavens, it is canopied
with fleecy clouds. The ferry comes laden with
Greeks and Armenians intent on picnics. Don-
keys are in demand. Gardeners sprinkle and
dress their favorite beds en toilette for the day.
Around goes on the " chirp! chirp!" of the ci-
cada. We have dedicated this superb day to an
excursion to the remote end of the isle on the
east. There St. George's monastery holds high
court.

The early Byzantine monks, and the emperors
who sometimes became monks, always sought the
highest mountains for their monasteries. There
was one built on the summit of Mount Olympus,
I mean the Mysian Olympus — just as there had
been one built on the peak of Athos.

The monasteries in all parts of ancient Greece,
as well as modern Greece, including those of the
Princes Islands, were always built on elevations.
In this the modern Greeks copy their pagan

MONA S TIC RLE VA TIONS. j j g

ancestors, who consecrated with temples the high-
est peaks. The Acropolis was always especially
honored. In fact, there are upon Mount Olympus
to-day, as well as upon Mount Ida, monasteries
whose cells are beautiful in their ruins. When
the snow melts upon Olympus there are traces of
the convents yet to be seen.

The inaccessibility of some of these monas-
teries is beyond description. There is one known
as the Convent of the Pulley. It is on the banks
of the Nile. You approach it through the rocks,
or rather you are received by the worthy brethren
who jump, one after another, into the Nile to
assist you to secure the boat with ropes and
anchors, so that you may scramble up the heights
with the aid of the blue-robed monks.

Sometimes these monasteries are reached not
without risk from, the brigands of the neighbor-
hood. Sometimes they are reached by. ascent
through hundreds of airy feet with the aid of
ropes. The idea of being hoisted into or near
heaven with the aid of fragile hemp is not alto-
gether unknown in our country to sentimental
sympathizers with martyrs who have been con-
victed of murder in the first degree. There is a
monastery on the Gulf of Corinth, under the
shadow of an overhanging precipice. There are
the monasteries of Meteora, and Mount Athos,
both remarkable for their wild inaccessibility.

12Q THE PRINCES ISLES.

Many of the convents in Syria and the islands
of the archipelago are associated with those of
the Princes Islands, as unrivalled for the beauty
of their position and the splendor of their sur-
roundings. Besides, there are many others in
Bulgaria, Asia Minor, Sinope and other places
on the Euxine, which remain as curious monu-
ments of a wonderful era, when men sought exile
in strange places from the eventful social life.
Curzon, whose " Monasteries of the Levant " is
still read, found one in Persia, ensconced in the
fissures of a rock, with odd gardens adjoining the
buildings, displaying the horticultural intelligence
of the monks, the whole having the appearance of
a das relief against a wall. He calls it a large
swallow's nest. There are other hermitages of the
same description among the precipices of the Jor-
dan. These houses he studies, because they are
the most ancient specimens of domestic architec-
ture, next after the houses at Pompeii. Their an-
tiquity is illustrated by the monasteries on Mount
Sinai, at Cairo, at the head of the Euphrates,
and wherever the Greek faith prevailed. They
date back to the fifth and sixth centuries, with
contemporaneous relics, and crosses of rare work-
manship, illustrative of the peculiar art of those
early periods.

It is to be noted in this connection, that the
monasteries, especially those which are our neigh-

ST. GEORGE AND FATHER ARSXNIUS. I2i

bors on the Princes Islands, have undergone much
trial and trouble from the subjugation of the
Greek to the Mahometan. This has kept down
the splendor of the Church and oftentimes de-
stroyed the establishment itself. Many of these
monasteries were regarded as castles. Curzon
himself says, that once while dining inside one of
them he heard, even at his meals, and while the
brotherhood were reading homilies from St.
Chrysostom, shouts and shots fired against the
stout bulwarks of the walls by enemies from with-
out. Was not this in strange contrast with the
cadences of the good fathers within ?

But we have started to investigate St. George's
monastery, — the most celebrated of those located
on the Princes Isles.

We are hospitably received by Father Arsen-
ius, who alone is in charge. He invites us to his
cool chambers in the second story of his monas-
tic domicile. The views through the large window
are far-reaching and splendid. He shows us the
images of his shrines in the old church. They
are black with the holy-candle smoke of centuries.
An old parchment Testament, illuminated, of the
year 600, is produced. It is his chief joy. It
is a volume quite worn. It was brought by Father
Arsenius from his old home in the Peloponnesus.
Its text is in the Greek. The illuminations in red
and blue indicate its antiquity and consequent

122 THE PRINCES ISLES.

sanctity. In the little chapel there are a half-
dozen pictures ; but the gold is tarnished, and the
flesh colors also dimmed with the sacred grime of
smoking candles.

The good father, with much courtesy of man-
ner and many inquiries about America, recognizes
the American minister as an " Excellency." He
invites us to see the holy spring. It is in a deep
chamber amidst the rocks. He gives us a drink
of its clear, cool water. Then we follow him to
a sombre room still below. This chamber has a
stony forbidding aspect. It is almost on the
rugged edge of a precipitous rock. It is, or was,
a retreat for the insane. There is only one
patient now. He is not there to receive us ; but
the iron rings, oxidized with time, are there, fixed
in the stone floor. This humble ferruginous
memento of the days when the crazed were
treated, worse than the criminal, excites much
interest. In vain we question the father about it.
He only knows his prayers and his illuminated
missals. Science, with its ameliorations, has not
to him any of the modern medicines for a mind
diseased. However, we do glean with the aid of
my Dalmatian, Pedro, who talks modern Greek
with the orthodox father, some hints of this asy-
lum. From these hints we evolve this story of the
convent :

The legend goes, that many years ago, a shep-

LEGEND OF THE MONASTERY. I2.

herd tending his flock on the summit, where the
monastery stands now, went to1 sleep one hot
afternoon. In his sleep he has a dream. In the
dream he is advised to dig in a certain spot
close to where he is lying and "he would hear of
something to his advantage." He digs and finds
a horseman mounted on a beautiful white charger,
with bells hung round the animal's neck. The
horseman makes a behest to the sleeping shepherd.

He is enjoined to dig again, according to direc-
tions. He digs and finds an old picture. It rep-
resents exactly the horseman whom he had seen
in his dream, even to the bells round the horse's
neck.

A superstitious importance is attached to the
discovery. This is strengthened by the fact that
the shepherd, — who previously was quite an im-
becile,— the moment he touches the picture be-
comes possessed of the most extraordinary knowl-
edge in all matters. The picture is recognized.
It represents St. George. From the fact of the
bells round the horse's neck not being painted but
real bells, the picture, when it was discovered by the
shepherd, was and is still called "St. George of
the Bells." In consequence of the sudden change
which took place in the mental faculties of the
shepherd when he touched the picture, a popular
belief was engendered, and still prevails, that the
picture possesses healing qualities in respect to

124 THE PRINCES ISLES.

persons diseased in mind. That persons slightly
deranged, and more particularly hypochondriacs,
derive much benefit from a sojourn in this monas-
tery is a fact in support of which many examples
are cited. Its splendid position, bracing air and
regular diet, free from all excitement may have
more to do with the cure than the healing qual-
ities attributed to the picture. Where the picture
was discovered this church and subsequently the
monastery were built.

It is the view under the clear sky and tonical air
rather than the picture that we have climbed the
mountain to see. The distant view more than re-
pays for the exertion. Beneath is " a sea of glass
like unto crystal, which was before the throne."
The near view is as wild a spot as the imagination
could desire. Around and below are rocks piled on
rocks, gray granite rocks, somewhat red with iron-
rust, and amidst them various trees and shrubbery.
At one coup d'ceil we see the shores and isles. As
we gaze, the full moon rises out of Asia on the
south-east, and the full red and purple blaze of
the sinking sun makes its long shadows and mys-
tical lore in the west. Diana with her bow of
silver, and Apollo with his arrows tipped with
roseate light, — brother and sister, — unite to glorify
the isles, out of whose myths in ancient days rose
those Hellenic creations which the world has
accepted as aptly interpretative of nature !

CARNAL WEAPONS. I2-

The good father bids us ascend to his reception-
room in the second story. As we ascend we pass
an open door and enter the ante-room. It looks
like a little arsenal. With the aid of my Dal-
matian interpreter, Pedro, I question the father,
pointing- to the three guns and a big cavalry
sword hanging against the wall :

" So you, like my servant's apostolic namesake
Peter, use carnal weapons upon these serene
heights of devotion ? "

The good father's eyes sparkle and snap. He
lifts off from the spike on the wall an American
Martini rifle. He opens its breach tubes. He
clicks it, with another snap of his Greek eye.
Then he responds with a smile :

"Yes, Excellence. We must be ready/ We
cannot tell in this lonely spot when we may be
attacked."

" But the sword, good Father Arsenius, what of
the sword ? Is it a relic of the ' Peloponnesiacum
Bellum ; ' or is it one of the evidences of your
ancient Spartan spirit and valor ? Is it an Ar-
chaian souvenir, or an Arcadian cheese-knife ?
Or is it an heirloom of your family out of the
more recent Greco-Turkish revolution ? "

He catches the raillery of my ironic talk. He
seizes the old sword. He handles it like an old
soldier of Macedon. With Spartan brevity he
rejoins :

126 THE PRINCES ISLES.

" Excellence ! It is good for bad heads." Point-
ing to the Bithynian coast, he adds : " Brigands
have been here from yonder shore ! "

It is indeed a lonely spot. The promontory,
extending out to the sea, further east on the isle,
was once a convenient resort for brigands from
the main land. There now lives, alone on its
extreme point, an old monk, who was formerly a
prodigious brigand chief from the mountains of
Asia.

In the monasteries of the Princes Islands the
old monkish establishments are obsolete. I be-
lieve that they in some sort are under the control of
the monks of Mount Athos. But from what I ob-
served in the monasteries at the Princes Islands,
the rigid rule against the admission of females is
not applied. Most of these monastic communities
debar all female creatures ; yet they have the poor
taste to allow within their precincts huge tom-cats.
These are procured from the outside, of course.
The communities are kept up by the admission of
members from without, and as some of the monks
have entered the monastery in early life, the image
of womankind has faded completely from their
memory. In fact, the question is often asked
outside as well as inside : " What sort of creatures
are women, anyhow?"

At Mount Athos not a female of any kind, not
a cow, nor a she-cat, nor a mare, nor a ewe, is

HOSPITALITY OF THE MONK. 127

allowed within the sacred precincts. No female
is allowed to exist upon their sacred ground ; — and
yet travellers have said and avouched that female
fleas live long enough here to breed, until the
nuisance becomes a positive martyrdom. These
pests are bred from the filth in the cells ; and the
dirty appearance of the monks indicates that they
assist this breeding. But nothing is so thor-
oughly sweet, elegant and clean as the monasteries
in and around Prinkipo, of which St. George of
the Bells is a chief ornament.

The good father invites us to his principal
chamber. It speaks of feminine neatness and per-
petual purity ; quite unlike the exclusive masculine
style of Mount Athos. Its dress is of white lace
on sofa and chair and at the windows. He orders
his hand-maiden to bring us refreshments. Along
with fresh water from the well below, she tenders
us on a silver salver a dish of conserve of roses.
You take a spoonful of this dainty dish, and dis-
solve its honeyed atomies with toothsome delight ;
then a draught of the cold water, followed by the
inevitable mocha in a tiny cup set in a silvery
fingan of filigree. Thus refreshed you look
around. The white walls are not altogether bare.
Here are pictures of St. George and the Dragon,
King George of Greece and his queen, the patri-
archs of the Orthodox Church and Abdul Mejid,
the liberal Sultan of twenty odd years ago. Here,

I28 THE PRINCES ISLES.

too, is Abdul Asiz, his son, on a gray charger,
passing in front of his soldiers. He dresses in
Turkish breeches of voluminous size now obsolete.
The Czars of Russia also depend from the white-
washed walls. Many cards of celebrities lie upon
a dish on the table. The dish is two feet in diam-
eter. It is decorated with a fine painting of the
Saviour and his apostles, and a verse in English
from Matthew xii., ist verse. It is a gift from an
English visitor. An ornate lantern of Turkish
make, — the kind used by families on the dark
streets of Stamboul before gas or American pe-
troleum gave their light to the Orient, — is upon
the table under the gay-colored chandelier. A
beautiful and large Easter egg, with a resplendent
picture of the Conception and Ascension on its
shell, hangs by blue virginal ribbons to the wall.
Is not blue the favorite color of the Immaculate
Mary ? This is a present from Rus'sia. A gilt
horseshoe hangs over a thermometer, and this com-
pletes the furniture of the reception room, where
our reverend "papa" in his long black gown and
rubicund visage, holds court.

We enjoyed many pleasant visits to the
monastery of St. George of the Bells. In none of
them, however, did we see the mounted horseman.
He doubtless was an illusion of some insane de-
votee or inmate of St. George. That saint always
appears as a cavalier. The bells are here, as they

BEATING THE "SIMANDRO."

ST. GEORGE OF THE BELLS. , 2g

are on the other monasteries of the isles. The
clangor which is beginning to arouse protestations
against the use of bells in cities, has no reason
when applied to such a locality as this isle. The
vibrations and music of the monastery bells touch
tender chords of memory, and seem appropriate
to those ceremonies which awaken the best emo-
tions of our nature. While I was not impressed
with the magnitude of the arsenal of St. George, I
could not fail to moralize upon the incident in its
association with the bells. The morale took the
form of Longfellow's poem after looking at the
arsenal of Springfield. It was prompted by the
sound of the bell upon the distant monastery of
Christos, floating to us upon the still evening air
with solemn, sweet vibrations, which gave to the
poet's soul the voice of Him who was the Prince
of Peace.

When Mohammed II. captured Constantinople,
although he granted many privileges to the Greek
Church, he prohibited the use of bells. The bells
annoyed other populations ; but he allowed them
to be used in the churches and monasteries of the
Isles of the Princes. There they still remain.
These islands were then exclusively inhabited by
Greeks. No other people were disturbed by the
resonance of the bells.

There seems to have been much prejudice
among certain sects in the East against the use of

130

THE PRINCES ISLES.

bells. I have seen in Jerusalem a heavy resound-
ing oak board, which, being struck by a metallic
bar, calls the religionists to prayers. In the inte-
rior of the court of the old Greek monasteries,
there is often seen a monk who calls the congre-
gation to prayer, not as the Moslem does, from
the minaret with his shrill appeal to Allah, nor by
the bells which were permitted to remain upon
this island, but by a bit of board called the Siman-
dro, which is generally used instead of bells during
worship.

After a small contribution to the good father,
and many farewells, we mount our donkeys and
go home by the moonlight that now floods the
isle. It is too late to make a visit to the other
monastery. That is reserved for a promenade on
foot, as it is near our villa.

GREEK FATHER ARSENICS AND HIS SABRE.

CHAPTER IX.

THE GREEK AND OTHER MONASTERIES OF THE
ORIENT.

IN a beautiful volume by Rose Elizabeth Cleve-
land, the 'sister of the President-, there is a
clever essay on the monastery. Aside from much
transcendental remark upon the cloistered life, the
essay has the merit of a succinct statement of
the rise and object of monachism. Miss Cleve-
land makes a contrast between the chivalric
and haughty soldier of the Middle Ages, and the
humble monk in sombre cowl and scanty^ gown
stiffened " by reason of his abstinence from the
sinful luxury of ablution." She calls these men
the aristocrats of society, the bulwark and orna-
ment of the church. Royalty bowed to them.

Her estimate is evidently taken from Gibbon's
chapters, and Gibbon's chapters have been toned
by his study of the Greek convents which played
so significant a part in the history of the " Decline
and Fall." The rise of this body of self-sacrific-
ing recluses — shadows of the living amidst other
shadows — she traces back to Antony of Egypt.
She fixes their locus in quo amidst the region of

132

THE PRINCES ISLES.

tombs and stone-covered caves filled with the
bones and dust of human skeletons. Therein was
their place of penitence. In strange contrast with
this picture were the elastic monastics of later
times, such as Walter Scott describes and such as
these isles knew in the time of their prosperity.
They were men of scholarly worth, and yet they
appreciated physical comfort. The Benedictines in
the Latin Church are praised for their general bene-
faction. They were the agents for the spread
of Christianity, civilization and learning in the
West, while penitential cloisters gave refuge to
the inherent monastic spirit which Miss Cleveland
classes among the natural diseases of mankind,
when carried to excess. She regards the rise
of these soul-hospitals as the result of an indeter-
minate feeling among men, hovering between the
old world of Paganism and the new one which
ushered in dimly the Christian faith. This is the
life Jerome followed and Chrysostom eulogized :
" Afar from the shadow of roofs and the smoky
dungeons of cities, came the mystic light from the
unseen world."

Miss Cleveland closes her paper with the en-
trance of Charles V. into the monastery and with
the divine pillar of Simeon. She comprehends in
her sketch a truthful, though I think an exagger-
ated view of the strangest institution to which
man ever consecrated his religious energy. These

RELIGIOUS QUIETISM. j-,,

isles are full of the evidences of this cloistered
energy. When we visit Halki, Antigone and
Proti, we perceive better illustrations of it than
the Turks allowed to remain in Prinkipo.

The temperament of the Oriental tends to relig-
ious emotion and elevation of soul. It leads to
the different forms of mysticism which have pre-
vailed in the monastic life. There are various
names given to these monastic people. There is
one especially translatable. It is that of Quietist.
How far at the present time religious contempla-
tion forms a part of the life of the monk, has not
yet been revealed, and certainly not to the
tourists who visit the celebrated monasteries in
the East. Many enter the monastery because
when they become old and after a life somewhat
irregular, they desire to repent in solitude. Some
have been engaged in trade and have had disap-
pointments. A gentleman who visited Mount
Athos made inquiry and found that the love of
tranquillity, pure and simple, without any religious
enthusiasm, had overcome a grocer from Corfu, a
tailor from Byzantium, a merchant from Syria, a
sailor from Cephalonia and a leech-gatherer from
Larissa, in Thessaly ! One would surmise that
the last-named person would naturally feel disin-
clined to solitary contemplation ; for-there could
be nothing so haunting and horrible as the mem-
ory of blood-sucking !

134

THE PRINCES ISLES.

The motive which impels so many to take the
monastic vow, and which they keep with great
fidelity in these Oriental monasteries, is the love
of tranquillity. This grows upon the devotee, like
any other habit. It is a great temptation for a
class of men to forsake the world, and find their
happiness in some hermitage, especially in a land
where there is so much balm and beauty of scen-
ery, and where the human kind brings so much
care and trouble. This class become weary of a
world where there is perpetual revolution in human
thought, and restless progress in human endeavor.
There is a great fascination for them to abide in
such a " laboratory of all the virtues," as Mount
Athos has been called.

There have been some, however, who have de-
generated after selecting these monasteries for
life. They return to the earth with its activities
and pleasures. I have in my mind the experience
of a German, who recanted before he entirely gave
his mind and vow to the work ; for, after reaching
Salonica from Mount Athos, he made a candid con-
fession. Although he had little care for the en-
joyments of this world, he had not elevated him-
self in the scale of righteousness by his secluded
life. When he returned to the flesh pots again,
how he devoured the political newspapers, maga-
zines and reviews! How hungrily he foraged in
the libraries of his consul ! Thus he demonstrated

ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS. j . 5

the emptiness of that life which was inside the
cloister, and which shrank from the heat and dust
of political and social activity.

It is nearly forty years ago since Curzon wrote
his "Visits to the Monasteries of the Levant."
It is a comprehensive book, and gives in detail all
that is worth knowing as to the architecture of the
monastic structures and the spirit of their recluses.

That which inspired his book was his collection
of ancient manuscripts. These he had picked up in
various out-of-the-way places in his travels. They
were of white vellum leaves. While admiring the
antiquity of one and the golden azure of another
manuscript, there arose memories and reflections
of the strange places from which they came and
the strange people from whom he obtained them.
He gives an account of the most curious of these
manuscripts and the adventures connected with
what he calls the pursuit of his venerable game.
Most of the monasteries which I have visited in
the Princes Isles have old manuscripts or antique
Scriptures. These are the first thing the monk
shows to the stranger. Besides the Holy Script-
ures, there are many writings which have been
composed within the precincts of the monastery.
They have reference to the rules of Christian life.
Some of them promulgate the doctrines of the he-
resiarchs, which in the early ages of the Church
created so much confusion and rancor. The

136

THE PRINCES ISLES.

author, Curzon, however, does not dwell so much
upon his trophied manuscripts. He grows elo-
quent by the contemplation of the picturesque and
superb natural situation of the monasteries.

He tells many curious stories about his mode
of procuring the rare manuscripts which he col-
lected in the Orient, many of which have been
placed in the British Museum. He travelled
many miles at great risk to find them. On one
occasion he was after a Syrian manuscript of great
value. It was alleged to be in an old monastery
in Egypt, near the Matron lakes. He took good
care to carry along with him some persuasive ele-
ments not recognized generally among the literary
amenities, but he was so anxious for the manu-
script and a Coptic dictionary of which he was in
pursuit, that he filled his carpet bag with some
bottles of rosoglio. This is a liqueur to which the
Orthodox Greek monks are partial. Many of the
monks even on Mount Sinai comfort themselves
with this spirit. It seemed to be potential,—
more so than a golden fee. Curson gathers the
monks around him. He fills their cups with the
sweet, pink rosoglio, and the monks with much talk
about good-wrill and humanity. Now Curzon
knows that there is a famous old crypt, in which
the manuscripts are kept. The monks have no
idea of the precious souvenirs below their cells ;
but at last, by social persuasion, they discover a

CURZON 'S DISCO VERIES. l . ~

narrov/, low door which enters a small closet.
This is the crypt. It is filled with manuscripts
to the depth of two feet. Lying there perdu are
the loose leaves of the Syrian manuscripts, which
now form one of the chief treasures of the
British Museum.

"Ah I at last!" he exclaims, " here is the
magic box! It is a heavy one."

The boozy monks shout out :

" A box ! A box ! Bring it out ! "

" Heaven be praised ! " they scream ; " we have
a treasure ! "

They pull out the box, and thus is resurrected
some most interesting manuscripts. They have
been buried in this ignoble literary grave for cent-
uries. Let the guild of letters drink bumpers to
Curzon, the literary detective of the ages, — and
drink deep in the pink rosoglio !

I have read a story of a famous monk, — I think
he was of Alexandria. He belonged to the early
day, — perhaps in the fourth century. He went
through all the austerities of the desert, and
wound up in one of the cells on the borders of the
Matron lakes. He was followed by many of his
faith. They lived separately, but they assembled
together on Sunday and had a sort of prayer meet-
ing. They were totally abstinent. A tourist gave
the saint a bunch of grapes. He sent it to another
brother; that other brother sent it to a third

138

THE PRINCES ISLES.

brother ; at last the grapes passed through the
hands of some hundreds, and came back to the
saint. He was happy in the abstinence of his
brethren, but he refused to eat himself. This was
the same saint who killed a gnat which was biting
him. It made him so unhappy that he retired to
a marsh where the flies had immense power,—
equal to a Jersey mosquito, — but he stood the in-
sectivorous infliction like a high-toned, chivalric,
middle-aged and manly monk. His body was so
much disfigured when he went back to the mon-
astery, that his brethren only knew him by his
voice ; and even his voice had a strange sound,
like that of a buzz-saw in motion.

One of the romantic legends which haunts the
neighborhood of the monastery on Mount Sinai
is that connected with the disappearance of a con-
vent. There is yet heard, between the Sinaite
mountains and the Gulf of Suez, the music of its
bells. It floats down on the breeze at the can-
onical hours. The Arabs declare that they have
been within the convent, but that the moment
they cross the threshold they lose sight of it.
The Bedouins have similar legends about other
convents. Some of these supposititious convents
are buried beneath the sand. Others have a bodi-
less hand, ringing the vesper bell.

On the top of Mount Sinai, which is scarcely
thirty paces in compass, there is not much room

HERMIT HUNTING. J.Q

for any structural or musical performance. The
dignity of that mountain comes from another
source !

Considering the beauty of this world, the love-
liness of its Tempes, the splendor of its Olympian
prospects, is it not strange that so many of our
kind creep into caves in their monastic fanaticism ?
The Orient especially has had whole flocks of
hermits roosting in pigeon holes upon the sides of
mountains. Some of these caves are so high and
some so far below the surface that we can only
liken the monks who live in one or the anchorites
who burrow in the other, to animals. In the time
of the Crusades, when the Saracen was roving
about the Eastern world, his favorite diversion
was hermit-hunting. In the early Greek frescoes
frightful representations of these chases are pict-
ured. The Saracen on horseback with long spear
punctures the monk and hermit. There is some-
thing heroic in this monastic constancy to a faith,
that never seems to be outworn, — a constancy
which leaves home, riches, even thrones and all
mundane pleasures to seek for tribulation. These
men retire to the very dens of the earth, subject
themselves to cold and hunger and all the agonies,
trusting that their pain in this world may be their
felicity hereafter, and that those who bear the
cross to-day will wear the crown to-morrow.

CHAPTER X.

OUR NEIGHBORS OF THE CHRISTOS MONASTERY.

THE monasteries of our neighbors in Prinkipo
have but few monks. These seem almost entirely
engrossed with secular affairs. They look after
the lands and the funds. They make grain and
wine, and at the same time keep up their religious
exercises on proper occasions. If you would have
the monastic life of the East in all its fulness and
variety you will have to go to Mount Athos.
There you find about three thousand monks, not
to speak of a population of seculars who reside in
the vicinity and who may amount to three thou-
sand more. There are many monasteries, the
monks of which vary from twenty-five to three
hundred. It is very difficult for a stranger to
obtain accurate information as to these figures.
The Greek is not a statistician. He answers no
question with facility and satisfaction. If you ask
him a question, as I have asked the monks on this
island, his answer invariably is, " Nobody knows,"
or to put it in the Greek, Hoeot; rb l^eu^e. The truth
is, nobody here cares an obolus about the antiquities
or history of the monasteries, or their imperial

140

PROMENADE TO CHRISTOS MONASTERY

141

founders. The modern Greek priest cares as
little for that of which we inquire as he does for
Homer and his divinities. Let us, however, try
the experiment of inquisition with our nearest
neighboring monastery.

Within half a mile of our villa, up the moun-
tain, is the monastery of Christos. It is being
rebuilt. It is not so old as the others upon the
isles, but the structure is more extensive and
stately. It has a revenue as well from the Greek
orthodox establishment as from its tillable land.
There are a half dozen monks who attend to the
gardens and raise the grapes and make the wine,
which is the favorite vin du pays of the isles. They
purchase grapes in large quantities from the Asian
vineyards, which lie in a southerly and easterly
exposure over the long range of land across the
channel.

To this monastery is my morning walk. There
is a half-way place under the broad sheltering
arms of the pines, where a score or more of people
can rest on a circle of stone seats. From here you
can look down into the Alpine vale below, covered
with vineyards, figs, olives and cypresses. To
complete the sylvan scene the pine forests skirt
this valley. On reaching its top, on the right and
among the pines, are a dozen splendid tombs.
They are walled up on the side of the hill near the
monastic group of buildings. Here the rich and

1 42

THE PRINCES ISLES,

the notable are buried. The crown on their monu-
ments indicates rank and station. Here are the
tombs of the patriarchs of the church.

As I wend my way up to the monastery upon
this quiet Sabbath day, I find a freshly laid circlet
of rare flowers upon one of these monuments. It
is a new monument, made since we have lived
here. In the shadow of the trees fronting the
monastery are a dozen or more of elegant carriages
and dog-carts, with liveried drivers. Something
unusual is going on. I enter the alley that leads to
the church, pass between the line of beggars hold-
ing out their boxes for piasters. There is a crowd
of peddlers selling bread, in rings a foot in
diameter. This bread has the look of pretzels.
They are piled artistically, ring on ring, upon huge
platters carried upon the heads of the venders,
or are placed upon tripods. The bread is called
simits. The picture will show the vender. I
enter the church. It is commodious and full of
people of all classes. Where could they come
from, and so early? From the village a mile or
more below ? I suppose so. There is a sweet
canticle being sung by trained boys. Is there a
funeral ? I see no coffin and no corpse ; for at
Greek funerals the body is exposed in the coffin.
Many large candles are aflame ; and many of the
people, especially those in elegant toilet, hold
smaller lighted tapers. A bishop in full canonicals,

VENDER OF SIMITS.

MASSES FOR THE DEAD. I43

crozier in hand, and a hat gorgeous with gold, and
a stole of most beautiful satin with gold em-
broidery, enters the pulpit. Around him stand
other priests, some in purple robes, some in their
plain black dresses, all with the strange black hat
whose crown is rimless, save at its top ! The
chant is taken up by the priests. The candles
are decorated with white and black ribbons.
Many of the visitors are in mourning. Some are
weeping ; but it is not a funeral. It is the cus-
tomary mass for the souls of the dead. It is usual,
as I learn, forty days after death to have such
ceremonies when the family can afford it. The
chant ends. The flowers are carried out to the
tomb, and with them three large mysterious bas-
kets. These baskets are draped in crape; and rib-
boned with white and black. I follow the crowd
of villagers and peasants who throng about the
tomb. Here the baskets are emptied. Each per-
son rushes pell-mell to obtain some of the contents
of the baskets. These contain flour, boiled simply
with water and salt. Some eat portions on the
spot. The women fill their handkerchiefs with it
and the boys their hats. All struggle and almost
fight over the sacred emblem, which has been
blessed. It is a curious ceremony. When done,
the parties immediately interested re-enter their
vehicles. The gentlemen light their cigarettes.
Much bustle ensues. The soul of the departed is

THE PRINCES ISLES.

supposed to be quiescent and pacified ! Not-
withstanding the solemnity of the sweet music and
that the candles are beautifully symbolic of the
reillumination of the soul, and despite the old
pictures of the Saviour, the Virgin and the saints
with their golden aureoles and radiant glories,
which make the scene impressive, yet the finale
with the bread and the mob of folk 'who rush to
eat and bear it off, is not consonant with the
solemn beauty of the ceremony and scene.

The Greek congregation is not particularly
reverent, although the rites are ceremonious.
I cannot but feel that in their devotion they
have not intensely the religious feeling or emo-
tion. I have before me a statement which con-
firms my remark : A lady visits one of these
churches with a friend who is a Greek devotee.
The latter is a fashionable woman. She conducts
her friend in a courtly way around the church
during service, to look at the pictures of the port-
ly and sad-eyed martyrs. She lights a dozen
or more of tapers to show her pious zeal ; and
as she lights them, as the story is told, she hums
in an undertone the barcarolle in Masahiello,
muttering between the staves :

" The Virgin ! I shall give her four candles. Is
not my own name Mary? Look ! What a pretty
effect ! Note her gold hand and her silver crown
with the light flashing on them ! Now comes St.

BEGGAR.

IRREVERENCE IN CHURCH. j,-

George, — I like St. George. He shall have two
candles. Who is this? Oh ! St. Nicholas; I can-
not bear St. Nicholas. I shall pass him by ! "

Her companion ventures to intercede in favor
of St. Nicholas.

tl Very well, then ! As you wish it ! There is
one candle for him ! but he never was a favorite
of mine ! There are two saints in the calendar to
whom I never burn a taper, St. Nicholas and St.
Demetrius."

It is not to be ignored that in the church cere-
monies there is need of some gentle warder.
What with the bowing and the whispering and
the laughing and the fidgeting of those who are
gathered in a Greek church; what with the lat-
tices of the gallery where even yet in some places
the females are shut as it were in a prison, and the
chanting of the priests in some sort of reckless
music, there is not enough to attract the ear with
sweetness and gentleness, or to impress the be-
holder with veneration. Ah ! I forget the gor-
geous stoles of the priests. The clergy seem to
hold the Eastern Greek in thrall by their superb
attire. So it is with the head-dress of the priests.
The very hair upon the head of the Greek priest
has a patriarchal air. It may, like a crucifix, or a
torch, or a sacred candle, give an added solemnity
to the scene. Perhaps it is known to the reader
that the Greek priests are not permitted to use

146

THE PRINCES ISLES.

either razor or scissors. They can only reduce
their beard by plucking it out. This is an old
Jewish law. They do this plucking with such skill
as to make their locks look elegant without being
too abundant. In part they resemble our Amer-
ican Indians, who pluck their beard from their
faces, though they never worship God by tearing
their hair. I have seen some of the Greek priests
who must have omitted this species of martyrdom,
as their back hair was done up in coifs after the
feminine fashion. The Greek priests have a
splendid physique, from which even their feminine
head attire does not detract.

A stranger in a strange land, — almost unnoticed
except by the beggar who asks alms of me, — I
pursue my way after the ceremonies of Christos
church, to the Diaskalon, — the Greek name for
the grand plateau and restaurant. The flags
of all the nations deck its central pavilion.
Scattered at various elevations are these same
funereal people at the tables and chairs under
the pines. They are inhaling the aromatic
pleasures which mingle with the fumes of the
coffee and tobacco ; and therewithal the recent
mourners of the church are solacing themselves.

From beneath the wooded coverts we catch
glimpses of the bluest of seas and the clearest of
skies, broken by the mountains on the mainland
and isles, whose grandeur never ceases to attract

IMA GER Y IN GREEK CHURCHES.

the vision. Resting here, I reflect on the strange-
ness and remoteness of the scenes of the morn-
ing. They are a curious blending of classic Pa-
ganism with Christian rites. The very crosier of
the Patriarch, with its eagle and serpent is copied
from the bdton of Jove, and a hundred incidents
remind me rather of the Hellenic mythology than
of the monastic and Christian life which is here
professed.

The Greek church and ceremony which I had the
pleasure to observe at Christos did not please
me as much as the mosque and its ceremony.
The mosque has a simplicity of beauty. The
Greek church has its altar, which is separated from
the church by a screen, but it has neither aisles nor
side chapels. The screen is ornamented, as is the
church, by pictures of saints. Shade of Raphael !
What pictures! How hard, dry and horrible they
look. The Greek Church will not have images, it
is said. Surely these pictures are the likenesses
of nothing in heaven, or on earth, or in the waters
under the earth. No Catholic in Spain would
have dreamed of decorating his favorite saint
with such votive offerings. Besides, the decora-
tions in gold and silver on hands, eyes, ears and
nose give such a comical effect, that the beholder
only enjoys it as the caricature of art, and not as
an aid to religion.

Many of the pictures that I have seen in the

148

THE PRINCES ISLES.

Greek and Coptic churches, and many of the man-
uscripts, are adorned with grim painted illumina-
tions. They are from colors composed of various
ochres. The outlines are first drawn with a pen
or brush made by chewing the end of a reed
until it is reduced into filaments. This pen is
then nibbled into proper form, after the ancient
Egyptian method. With this ceed, or pen, the de-
votee fills up the spaces between the etchings with
his colors. The Virgin is generally dressed in
blue ; the other figures are of a brownish red, and
they all have a curious cast in the eye. The ar-
tistic work is hardly equal to that of the ancient
Greek or of the modern Italian, but yet many of
the oldest churches and some of the rarest books;
of the Old and New Testaments, as well as the
manuscripts of many classic works have thus been
glorified by much rude art.

The ceremony of blessing the grapes, to which
I have referred, is another example of classic
reminiscence ; nor is it confined to the Ortho-
dox Greek church. There is a Catholic Armenian
church in the village of Prinkipo. Upon one
Sunday morning we were invited to be present
to witness the same ceremony in that beautiful
church. The church was arrayed with all the
flowers of the season. An immense basket of
grapes stood upon the gorgeous altar. The Patri-
arch, who is a brother of the Armenian banker,

CLASSIC CEREMONIES. T ,Q

Azarian, conducted the services. It was a touch-
ing and reverent recognition of the kindly gifts of
God. But, after all, is it not taken from the simi-
lar ancient Greek ceremonies which were intended
to honor Bacchus, who " first from out the purple
grape crushed the sweet poison of wine " ? The
great world, as Tennyson has it, may spin forever
down the ringing grooves of change, but how
much of the changeless remains ! The very
images of Greek beauty in feature are here, wor-
shipping the god of the vine, in the church of
Jesus Christ.

" Vulgar parents cannot stamp their race
With signatures of such majestic grace."

The priest of Apollo stands confessed at the
altars of Prinkipo !

The Greeks have a good deal to answer for.
Their faults are numerous, but they are superficial.
As in other nations, so among the Greeks, the
scum rises and is prominent. The timeo Danaos
and the wooden horse have demoralized them in
history.

The Greek is not to be confounded with the Le-
vantine. The latter is a mixed race, from Italy,
Malta, France and other western lands. The
Levantines are Franks and so called. They are
born of the early adventurers from the time of the
Crusades to that of the Crimean war.

J^Q THE PRINCES ISLES.

There is much to be said about the religious
devotion of the Greeks in association with these
monastic isles and structures. I know that they are
reproached for their weakness and their indiffer-
ence, when their empire was crumbling, before the
Latin conquest, led by the Fourth Crusade under
Dandolo and Baldwin. It is said by Mr. Pears, in
his history, that while the Moslem was thundering
at the walls of Stamboul and when the city was
again about to succumb, that the Greeks of the
hierarchy were disputing about non-essential arti-
cles of their faith and doctrine. The empire of
the Greek fell, but his faith lives. It will not
be disputed but that he has an ineradicable love
of liberty worthy of his lineage. Nor will he rest
until the Hellenic race is enfranchised. But how
can we reconcile the condition of his church and the
Ottoman state in Turkey to-day ? The Greek
rayaky as yet, is a strviteur of the Sultan. He
wears the red fez. It is the badge of subjection.
He seems to wear it willingly. He is ready to
take office whether as Vali of a province or Cai-
makam of a district, as minister of state or grand
vizier, and when his sons are dubbed as Beys and
Effendis they eagerly seek position and promotion
in the offices of the government. His blue Fanar-
iote blood runs through a line of linguists, states-
men, diplomats and soldiers, celebrated as the
favorite servants of the Ottoman Sultans.

GREEK AND LA TIN CHURCHES. { 5 f

Nor is this more marvellous to those who read
the stories of the Greek revolution than the or-
thodoxy of the Greek Church, which in Turkey
is content to be the subordinate imperium, with its
Patriarch, under the Imperial Majesty enthroned
at Yilcliz and supreme at the Sublime Porte !

Perhaps we do the race of Leonidas and De-
mosthenes injustice. But after observing recent
events in Turkey, it may be said that if the Greek
people of Turkey — five millions strong — are wait-
ing for the palingenesis, or new birth, they did not
show it when Bulgaria raised the sword to cut the
Gordian knot of the Berlin treaty, in September,
1885. The Greek ray ah was then a helpful sub-
ject of the Ottoman.

The distinguishing feature between the Latin
and the Greek churches should be understood.
The very word " orthodox " presumes on the part of
the Greek a fundamental, dogmatical difference.
That difference lies in the rejection by the Greek
of what is known as the double procession of the
Holy Ghost. The Greek, and following it the
Russian Church, repudiates as an interpolation
the word filioque, in the creed of the Council of
Constantinople of A.D. 381. The Greek went
further and charged five heresies against the Lat-
in. They are enumerated in the sentence of
excommunication pronounced by the Patriarch
against Pope Nicholas I. These heresies include :

^ THE PRINCES ISLES.

First. The doctrine that the Holy Ghost pro-
ceeds from the Son as well as from the Father.

Second. The practice of the Latin Church of
fasting on the Sabbath.

Third. Its sanction of the use of milk and food
prepared from milk in the first week of Lent.

Fourth. Its prohibition of priests from marrying.

Fifth. Its withholding from presbyters and
bishops the right to baptize persons with the Holy
Chrism"

Sixth. The use of unleavened bread in the
Eucharist.

And as the sweeping conclusion, a repudiation
of the papal claim of supremacy.

Another thing may be said for the Greek
Church. It never claimed, like the Latin, any
measure of temporal authority ; only spiritual juris-
diction. But this was more in theory than practice.

If I were to seek for the glory of Greece, I
would not go to the Acropolis ; nor to Thermopy-
lae ; nor to the art of Phidias and Appelles ; nor to
the ancient theatre or the modern chamber where
Deleyani and Tricoupis debate ; but to their he-
roic adherence to their orthodox faith. Whether
that faith be pure or impure, whether its Protes-
tantism is better than that of Wickliffe, Huss,
Luther, or Calvin ; whether it was wise or not
in its times of trouble, when Polycarp died, or
Byzantium' fell — it has been consistent and heroic

IECUMEN1CAL PATRIARCH DEMETRIUS V.

GREEK ECCLESIASTICAL HEROISM. l^

even unto death, under tremendous stress of cir-
cumstances, and amidst the fiercest fires of perse-
cution. Five hundred years before Wickliffe—
seven hundred before Luther — the Greeks main-
tained against all comers their orthodoxy and
primitive doctrines and early practices. The New
Testament came to all Christians in their opulent
tongue. The Nicene creed, that settled as early
as A.D. 325, the Arian controversy as to the Trinity
for all Christendom, came out of the first (Ecumen-
ical synod of over 300 Greek bishops under the
presidency of a Greek bishop of Spain. The
Greek Church " safe-guarded the Niceno-Constan-
tinopolitan, Ephesian-Chalcedonian symbol of the
Trinity " in the form left by the fourth (Ecumenical
synod. What contests it has had in its own
bosom ! what struggles with Caliph and Pope !
what persecutions from Saracen ! what contempt
from Protestantism ! But it has never yielded to
the edicts of power, the force of arms or the flames
of persecution. Enduring all the tribulations of
martyrdom and the contumely of arrogance, it is
still a living evidence of Christian faith ; and
these isles have witnessed as they look out toward
Chalcedon and Nicaea, the scholarship and devo-
tion of an intrepid race of ecclesiastical heroes.
If the orthodoxy of the Greek is a petrified re-
ligion, it is a petrifaction which is monumental.

CHAPTER XL

TRIP TO HALKI, ISLE OF COPPER GREEK COLLEGES

—SPLENDID SCENERY.

ONE of the pleasures of our summer resort at
Prinkipo, after donkey-riding, fishing, promenad-
ing and inhaling the health-giving air, is to make
trips to the adjacent mainland and isles, even to
the ecclesiastical vicinage of Nicsea, and the his-
toric places of Nicomedia. These latter places are
eastward, upon the two extreme points of the Sea
of Marmora. They are only separated from each
other by a mountainous tongue of land, a tongue
which speaks eloquently of a mighty past ! The
voyage can be made in a sailing caique, in a
launch, or by the post boat. It can be made in a
day. It is hardly fifty miles to Ismid, or Nico-
media. It is a longer trip to Nicaea, now known
as Isnid, which can be better made via Broussa,
when the brigands are asleep. Isnid is the
famous locality where the Nicene creed and its
controversies made war a chronic habit in the
early days of Christianity. We are projecting
several of these trips.

This morning is dedicated to Halki. It is the

154

ROSY AURORA.

Sabbath. No more beautiful day ever dawned
in the East than that which ushers in this bright
morning. The sea is of the deepest ultramarine
blue with stretches of light in swaths that break
its uniformity of color. A little breeze ruffles
its surface. A few white-winged caiques move
quietly, seeming to be more at rest than in mo»-
tion. The clouds make shadows over the moun-
tains. The slopes of Asia, east and south, are
magical in beauty. The roseate aurora of which
Homer sings, hardly fades from the lustrous
glory of the sky before we are off to Halki, the
isle of copper. It lies just west of us, only a
mile distant. It is within our view from Prinkipo.
It has two prominent main-tops of mountains, each
crowned with large yellow buildings. One is a
Greek commercial college, and the other a Greek
theological seminary. Our launch, the " Sunset,"
is ready. The Maltese captain and his crew
are unusually affable. They are cultivating their
best graces ; for on coming up from Stamboul
yesterday we had a breezy time around the Moda
Point, and our new flag blew away, and they
looked as if they were under the patriotic ban.
Alas! that this, the only emblem of the great
Western republic now on these waters, should
have had such an inglorious burial in the Pro-
pontis. Who will find it? Who return it?
Who will know it ? The other day, while stand-

156

THE PRTNCES ISLES.

ing on the quay, as the " Kearsarge " first entered
Prinkipo harbor, I heard a talk among the fisher-
men about its " drapeau" They spoke in Greek ;
but Pedro, my Dalmatian servant, translates.
Said one :

" The Greeks have colored their blue stripes,
and changed them to red since their late fiasco
with Turkey. It is a Greek ship."

" Oh, no," said his companion ; " it is the tri-
color of the French — red, white and blue, mod-
ified with the stars."

" Nay, not so," said a third : " there is a new
nation in Africa and it is sending out vessels.
This is the flag of the Congo Confederation ! "

No one dreams that a nation of sixty millions
swear by this starry ensign, and that the " Kear-
sarge" had vindicated it under the eye of antago-
nizing British and curious French people, off
Cherbourg.

This flag is beginning to be known here by its
" Sunset " coloring, which Drake sang so vividly
and which our launch illustrates eo nomine. So
that when we reach the scala, or landing, we
have a greeting from all the fishermen and other
,ftt*/a-wags who adorn the quay. The steam is
already up ! Away we dash for the Copper Isle !

Our little launch is filled with pots of flowers,
and with our blue flag at the fore, signifying that
the ministerial " Admiral," is on board, our

mem

THE GREA T DRA COM AN. l * ~

old star-spangled banner at the stern, rather the
worse for wear, and our gay scarlet cushions on
deck, we make a sensation as we move over the
sea not at all inglorious for our remote country.

This island of Halki derives its name from the
copper mines which in ancient times existed in
it — halkos (yatobs), ifl Greek meaning copper. The
Turks call it Heibely, that is, bag-like ; because of
the resemblance of the two hills on either side of
its principal plain to saddle-bags thrown across
the back of a horse.

There is little to add to the description of the
monasteries on this island given in " lies des
Princes," excepting one or two slight errors to
correct. The author of that book speaks of the
personage who restored in 1680 the monastery of
the Virgin Mary as " Nicosios Panagiotaki." It
makes him a native of Scio, old Homer's isle ;
whereas his proper name is Panagiotaki of Nico-
sia, in Cyprus. The American reader will be
happy to know that he was the great dragoman of
the Sultan, when dragomans were more distin-
guished and less common than at present. They
will also be pleased to know that he was not from
Scio, but from Cyprus. In the library of this
monastery are to be found some fifty or sixty old
manuscripts, mostly relating to ecclesiastical mat-
ters, written on parchment and dating as far back
as the sixth century.

158

THE PRINCES ISLES.

In a remote part of Halki lived, up to four years
ago, an old monk. A certain mystery was at-
tached to him. He was formerly a wealthy mer-
chant and a highly respected member of society.
One day, about thirty years ago, he left his house
in Pera, in the morning as usual, to go to his busi-
ness. He did not, however, make his appearance
at his counting-house that day and did not return
home in the evening, in fact, he did not return at
all. Inquiries were made. About a month after-
wards he was discovered in a retired spot of Halki.
There he had built for himself with his own hands
a wooden hut and was living in it, having assumed
the garb of a monk. Neither the solicitations of
his wife, children or friends could induce him to
return to his home or explain his strange conduct.
He sent them all away. He lived for nearly
twenty-five years in that hut, subsisting on herbs
and presents from charitable people. Money he
would not accept, but bread and other perquisites
he did not refuse. He spent his time in study
and prayer. Of late years he was held in great
veneration by the -inhabitants of the isle. When
he retired to Halki, he left behind him an excel-
lent business and a fortune of nearly $100,000.

Why anticipate these incidents ? They make
Halki interesting. My portfolio is crowded with
memoranda of this historic and monastic isle.
They concern its three monasteries, its commercial

SECKE TS OF HALKI. l - g

school, its natural position in the sea and its
paradisiacal beauty and situation. What convents !
what tombs ! what buried patriarchs ! What
biographies associated with the Paleologii — John
VIII. especially ! What ravages by fire and war!
What grandeur of Greek dragomans, like the
famous Nicosias Panagiotaki ! What funereal
corteges by sea ! what Phanarotic ability ! These
added to the natural beauties of the isle, transmute
the copper of Halki into the golden ingots of his-
tory and chivalry.

The time is propitious to search for the secrets
of Halki. Every page of Gibbon calls aloud.
The round tower of the Genoese beckons ! A
thousand years, eloquent of historic glory, almost
forgotten by our new hemisphere — years in which
eunuchs, emperors, empresses, patriarchs, clerical
and domestic, local and foreign wars, come and
go like rainbows. These all invite us to study
Halki !

We had arranged to have with us Admiral
Woods Pasha. He is an English gentleman,
formerly of the English navy. For the past
twenty years he has been in the Turkish naval
service, and has reached, for a young man, quite
an exalted place in the service. For several
years he was a professor in the naval school at
Halki. Since the Turks have been threatened re-
cently with disintegration, he is expected there

THE PRINCES ISLES.

again to lecture on explosives, torpedoes, and naval
warfare generally. In these matters he is peer-
less as a student and accomplished as a practical
officer. To him Halki is an open book. For him
all its pretty bays, nooks, and paths, its monu-
ments and monasteries, its social, historic and per-
sonal memories serve to illuminate the open vol-
ume. His sister accompanies us. She speaks
modern Greek, and interprets for us. The Admi-
ral Pasha speaks Turkish like a native.

We reach the isle. We land on the scala, at
the door almost of the naval college. The marines
perceive the Admiral, for he wears the undress
uniform of his rank. They make salutation as
we enter the gateway of the huge building. Like
most of the monster buildings in the East it is
painted yellow. It was used once as a cazerne or
barracks. As a consequence there is a mosque
near by. This is signified by the white minaret.
It is vacation in the college now. We find, as is
the case in all edifices — public and private, in this
country — that the inside of the college and grounds
is more inviting than the outside indicates. We
find ourselves, under the convoy of a Turkish
naval officer, within grounds laid out with great
beauty, but in a neglected condition. Flowers,
creepers, rare shrubbery, and trees, make a picture
none the less interesting, because en ddshabille.
The Admiral Pasha relates many tales of these

RE VELS A T HALKI.

grounds. These tales relate to the days of Mah-
moud II., who massacred the Janissaries. That
Sultan used to come here from the capital to have
a revel, sending for the attractive beauties of the
isle and making merry like an old feudal lord of
the manor. His son, Abdul Mejid, was also accus-
tomed to visit here for days together, but not in
such a hilarious fashion. Abdul Mejid's son, Ab-
dul Hamid, the present Sultan, has never been here.

The grounds are in sad decay. The naval cus-
todian tells us that this year a sum is set apart for
the renovation of the grounds and buildings.

We enter the building. There is nothing to
note except large rooms with furniture once rich,
now faded, and chandeliers that would do honor
to Dolma Batche or Peterhoff.

" Here is the chamber," says the Admiral,
"where, on the visit of the allied fleets after the
Crimean war, we gave the allied officers a grand
fete and heavenly dance. Did you note these
rude pillars unpainted on the first floor ? Well,
I had them put under the floor to support the
dancers. It was done in a few hours on a hasty
summons."

"By you?" I ask.

" By my orders ! The timber was prepared in
Stamboul, brought down here in the afternoon, set
up in style before night, and we danced over it till
morning ! How's that ? "

THE PRINCES ISLES.

" I did not think, Admiral, that the Turks were
so energetic."

" Oh ! they are great on spirts, when the ' occa-
sion sudden ' demands exertion."

As it is vacation no students assemble to gratify
their curiosity at our unexpected advent. When
my Dalmatian, Pedro, signifies that he desires a
half-dozen donkeys to be ready on our return from
seeing the naval school, we are surrounded by a
bevy of young Greeklings, — Arabs I was about to
say, — of the town. They do not use suspenders ;
sometimes they have a sash or belt like their
elders. Their pantaloons may be said to be like a
doubtful bill after a field day in Congress, — full
of amendments — amendments in front and rear.
Some are so much covered with patches as to
be a " substitute," leaving only the title ! These
gamins are not badly behaved. I am yet to see
any bad boy among the Greeks. When Pedro
indicates a wish for donkeys, a race begins for the
remote donkey stand. It is Epaminondas against
Lycurgus — Eschines over again for the crown
against Demosthenes. Around the corner come
the gamins with four donkeys and a horse ! I
mount the horse. The steed is fiery. Our sailor
George and servant Pedro assist us to mount.
Away we go ! We had become used to gaping,
curious crowds while in Egypt ; so that when the

REBELLION A GAINST CA RRIA GES. j 5 n

housewives of the town rush to their windows to
gaze at our procession, we are not embarrassed.

" Which way shall we go?" I ask the Admiral.
" Up the magnificent avenue of cypresses, which
takes us to the oldest monastery ?"

He responds :

" Let us reserve that to the last."

No carriages are allowed in Halki. The only
locomotion is by foot or donkey. Some years ago
the attempt was made to introduce carriages, as the
roads are suitable for them ; but the very donkeys,
together with their drivers, raised a thundering
note of rebellion. The harness of the new regime
of drivers was cut, the vehicles disordered, and the
scheme abandoned. In Prinkipo the same sort
of revolution failed. The private carriages tri-
umphed, and there was no power in the don-
key battalions against the gold of the Hellenic
bankers.

Halki plumes herself on her freedom from
the aristocratic carriage. Her paths are paths
of peace, and her ways are ways of pleasant-
ness. In fact, there is a quietude and beauty
about her solitary meandering walks that make
her more attractive to the monastic or studious
mind than her more fashionable sister isle.

We take up our line of march to the lofty top of
the mountain, where the theological seminary with
its piles of yellow-painted stone and beautiful,

!64 THE PRINCES ISLES

ample grounds give the finest view of the islands
and the two continents.

I have said that it was difficult to find any litera-
ture concerning these isles outside of the modern
Greek. This I cannot read. But one capital
object is always apparent without seeking other
than tablets of stone set in mortar ; and that is
the prevalence of religious enthusiasm as associ-
ated with these isles. The monastery is ever up-
permost. It was quite as convenient for the state,
as a prison and refuge, as for the church to per-
petuate Greek teaching and tenets. These tenets
are especially saturated with the reclusive life. No
place in the Eastern World, unless it be Mount
Athos, is so fitted for the solitary musings and reflec-
tions of the cenobite as these isles. There is no
place so fitted, I may add, for the anchorite also.
Both words are as Greek as the habits of the
Greek fathers of the Christian Church. The word
cenobite is from Kocub^ common ; and /&oc, life. It
signifies a community, in opposition to the anchor-
ite, who was a solitary hermit, from avd, back,
and to Xoffee^ retire.

This isle of Halki is the home of both of these
recluses. This the sequel will show. It is an il-
lustration of the excesses of that pious zeal, which
led the early fathers to retire into caves and con-
vents, as if in the very face of the teachings of

ST. TRINITY CONVENT.

165

Him whom all confess, who sought to be affable
and social in his intercourse with mortals.

The convent of St. Trinity, most conspicuous
from land and sea, is the one within whose courts
we now are. It used to graduate yearly two
hundred students, for the Orthodox priesthood.
The past year there were but sixty-seven grad-
uates. Is this a sign of our utilitarian age, which
is even invading this great theological centre of
Oriental orthodoxy ? In comparison with the
number of students of the commercial school,
167, this showing is like Jean Paul Richter's
father, poor but pious. It was not so formerly,
in the days of Ottoman persecution, or before that,
in the time of the Greek domination, with St.
Sophia as the crowning edifice of the Christian
world !

The convent we now visit is called in Greek
Hagia Trias, or Trtacia. Its founder was one
Photius. He is called illustrious ; but whether
he be so or not, depends upon those who are in-
terested in the vicissitudes of the Eastern Church.
He was one of the learned patriarchs, a leading
mind and conspicuous figure in the ninth century.

The convent fell into ruins when the Turks
took Constantinople. It was rebuilt in the six-
teenth century by one Metrophanos. He, too,
was a celebrity in Orthodox annals. He was the
son of a tile-maker of a little town on the Bos-

T66 THE PRINCES ISLES.

phorus, Haskeui. He became an archbishop of
Cappadocia, and afterwards patriarch of Constan-
tinople. He abdicated on a charge of simony
against him. The story told of him is, that on
retiring from the patriarchate, he received the
two dioceses of Lamia and Chios. He sold the
first and retired to the second ! He liked the
thirty pieces. Still he was and is renowned and
revered by his fellow-churchmen and by scholars.
He was a crank on one subject. He was wild in
his endeavors to recover the manuscripts which
had escaped the Turkish conquest of 1453. He
recovered many of them. A catalogue of his find-
ings was found in 1572. After his death his col-
lection was scattered. It is recorded that a
learned diplomat, Ghislan de Busbecq, who first
brought the lilac into Europe and who lived three
months on Halki, in the sixteenth century, sent
a cargo of wonderful manuscripts into Europe.
I have been in the receipt of many letters from
American scholars, anxious to know about many
missing manuscripts. They are supposed to be
yet concealed in the crypts of St. Sophia or in the
dusty mosque alcoves in and around Stamboul.
I have been besieged to bring them out of their
stony tombs and mummy cerements. It may be
proper here to say that all such attempts are
vain. The lost books of the Greek classics, frag-
ments of Livy or Pausanius may be exhumed ; but

GRAND VIEW.

I67

my efforts, like those of my predecessor, the au-
thor of " Ben Hur, " have been in vain. Only a few
treasures remain in the library of the Holy Trin-
ity of Halki. If the precious classics were ever
there, the changes and chances of time, war and
fire have left of the " fund of Metrophanos," pre-
cious few of the relics which he gathered with so
much scholastic zealotry.

The marks of fire are seen on the smirched
foundation stones of the present edifice of Trinity.
During the Greek revolution, in 1821, the con-
vent was burned. It was again built by the pa-
triarch Germain IV., in 1844; so that it is com-
paratively new. The old building of Phocius was
then changed into a theological seminary ; and so
it remains.

To reach the spacious paved courts of this
Trinity convent we pass around and up the
mountain, through shady woods, whose grounds
are not cumbered, like those of Prinkipo, with
rocks. When you attain the summit you have the
finest prospect of sea, sky, isle and continent I
have ever witnessed. From the promontory you
may not only gaze down into the Swiss vales of
the isle, but off into the shores of Asia and Eu-
rope. The great city of Constantinople seems to
be nearer and more resplendent in dome and min-
aret than from our villa at Prinkipo. From these
terraces of Trinity the mountains of the horizon,

! 68 THE PRINCES ISLES.

seen under their hazy attire, are lit up at sunset
with a glow of russet, pink, purple and gold which
would be anything but conducive to the study of
Greek or metaphysics. At Naples, when evening
paints her colors upon the sea and the isles of the
bay and in the very lustre of the air, one must
close the shutters, in order to think, read and
write. Is it not a marvel how the students of
these isles can gaze into recondite lore when
nature spreads for the eye such an illuminated vol-
ume of the good and beautiful?

After some inquiry we find a priest to show us
the inside of Trinity. He appears. He is of bare
head, of good face, but as dumb as an oyster.
Even our fair dragoman, Admiral Wood's sister,
could not coax much information from him. The
fact is, that he did not know as much as we did about
the convent and its history.^ However, as he was
unlocking the church door, I observe over its
portals the sign of the Trinity, three in one — a tri-
angle, with an eye in the centre, symbolic of the
eternal All-seeing One. At each angle is the
initial of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Around
this triangle is a radiant golden glory. Some
Greek sentences below tell when the church was
rebuilt and by whom. The words are of new
Greek and unknown to us. On either side
are other emblems. One is that of an open book
or tablet of stone. It is the law. On the other

TRINITY SYMBOLS AND OLD PHOCIUS.

169

side is a golden cup with a cross above it. It is
the sacred chalice or sacrament. In the vestibule
of the church is a strange picture. It is as old as
these emblems. It is black with the smoke of a
million candles burned from the ninth century to
the time of the destruction of the church. It
represents three angels entertained at a feast. It
is the Annunciation, I suppose. Within the
church are the same pictures which are seen in all
Greek churches, and which I have seen so often in
Russia and in Constantinople. They consist of
biblical scenes, from old chaos and the creation
down to the birth of the Saviour. In these pict-
ures you will see reproduced in horrid art the
Grecian features. The nose is prominent. In the
vestibule are the tombs of many patriarchs. We
are led to believe that one worn smooth by con-
stant walking over it is that of Phocius. But in
the American mind it is of little moment who
is Phocius to it or it to Phocius. Only the
carved skeleton of old Phocius is seen. * The
only living things about the convent are to be
found in the library. Here are books ; and John
Milton says that a book is a most reasonable
creature. " It is a life beyond life, — an immortality
rather than a life."

Let us to the library. There we are joined
by a director of the college. He is arrayed in a

THE PRINCES ISLES.

priestly stole, and his head is clad with the cylindri-
cal hat, the rim at its crown. He has abjured
the pendant veil from the hat for this occasion.
But like the typidal Greek priest, he has a black
beard. His hair, too, is long and curls. It is
parted in the middle, and neatly brushed behind
the ear. He is courteous, and is anxious to give
us all the satisfaction he can. He presents us to
the librarian. Ah! I must not forget him! His
name is Constantine. He has been here seven-
teen years. He is seventy years old, and gray
where he is not bald. He is not a ready, oral lin-
guist, but here our fair dragoman comes to the
front. We rejoice for an hour among these im-
mortals of the alcove. The librarian shows us
his catalogue. He shows us books in fourteen
languages. Many of them are quite old and Ori-
ental. He displays many old manuscripts in
Greek. One Testament is 1200 years of age. It
is on illuminated parchment. It looks old and
tired. % The library smacks a little of the French
Revolution, or of the encyclopedists of France.
It must have come out of freedom of the Greek
mind, aroused by the excitements at the end of
the last century. There is a goodly company of
mathematicians in one alcove ; but most of the
books are upon logic. Others pertain to "the
Fathers."

I asked Constantine : " Have you no novels

IN THE L1BRAR Y. j - 1

here? Do your students never read fiction?"

He colors a little as he replies :

" I read all the time, — mostly novels. It would
be tiresome here else. One of the patriarchs died,
and his niece brought us quite a lot of novels from
his library. The students don't read them."

" How many students graduated this year?" I
ask.

" Only eight, and only six of these are to be
priests ! It is not as it was." He sighs an ortho-
dox sigh, and resumes.

" Ah ! we have the same old banquet when the
young men go out into the world. If any of them
do not become clergymen, they have to pay ^15
extra for each year that they have studied here."

Woods Pasha is rummaging among the old
books. He finds a history of the Sultans in Eng-
lish. It is of the year 1610. It is full of rare
wood-cut portraits. He calls me to him. He
reads the first sentence.

"See ! Excellence ! what a race is here ! What
an author ! He derives the Turkish race from the
Tenori (Turkish) or Phoenicians — the ancestors of
Carthage — the soldiers of Hamilcar, Hanno, Han-
nibal and Hasdrubal, and the merchant princes
of Carthage ! Is not such a derivation almost
comical ? "

I recognize the big volume. It is the counter-
part of one presented me by Senator Wagstaff, of

1/2

THE PRINCES ISLES.

New York, just before I left that city on my
mission. It came over with his family from Eng-
land some 200 years ago !

I am all interested in the volume. The ad-
miral resumes —

" This volume goes on to say that it is a marvel
that from so small a beginning such a power as
that of the Ottoman developed, at which the
world grows pallid — "

" Ah, my dear Admiral, that was written in
A.D. 1610."

But the admiral grows intensely interested.
He asks the librarian :

" If I should want to read or borrow this book,
can I have the privilege ? "

" Yes," said Constantine, " come a-, any time-
even at midnight, and you are welcome to all we
have!"

I said to the gentle bookworm :

" I wonder you Greek folk never care in your
grand ambition to rival the wandering Ulysses, and
in your persecutions and trials here seek an Odys-
sey from the Orient, to America ! "

" Ah ! Excellence ! " said he, " I should have
gone there fifty years ago. It is now too late. I
must lay my bones here."

Then I pondered on a glimpse I had caught of
a vagrant sentence in an open volume of the
library. It was from Dr. Arnold. He says, in his

IF IT HAD BEEN GREECE ; NO T ROME. l »«

comprehensive way, that on the destruction of the
Athenian fleet in the harbor of Syracuse, B.C. 413,
depended the fate of the world. But for the vic-
tory of Rome, the energies of Greece during the
next eventful century would have found their
field in the West no less than in the East ; and
then Greece, and not Rome, might have conquered
Carthage. Greek, instead of Latin, might have
been at this day the principal element of the lan-
guage of Spain, of France and of Italy ; and the
laws of Athens rather than of Rome might be the
foundation of the law of the civilized world.
Syracuse was a breakwater which God's provi-
dence raised up to protect the yet immatured
strength of Rome ! The learned teacher of
Rugby might have carried his supposition far-
ther, and hung on his hypothesis the possible con-
dition of the Christian religion with a patriarch
instead of a pope, giving the canons of faith to
the Latin races of the world ! These early Greek
fathers of the church, who recognized the great
white Slavonic czar as the chief father of their
religion, might now be giving ecclesiastical and
civil law to the majority of civilized nations !

There is a fountain in the stony court under
the broad shade tree. The antique church, the
monks* apartments, and the patriarch's chamber,
the scene of many a wedding festival, — these
with a prospective marriage ceremony, are in

THE PRINCES ISLES.

reserve for another visit, for we shall go again to
the theologic college to drink in at sunset its won-
derful prospect toward the north where Stamboul
shines afar.

We now take a path to the south-western por-
tion of the isle, where the commercial college sits
serene at the top of another mountain. There
are no carriages on the isle, and yet the roads up
through the pine groves are as substantial, wide
and clean as if they were in the Bois de Boulogne.
Each of the pine trees is a picture, and the
ground beneath them, carpeted with the needles
and cones, makes the forests here much more eli-
gible for picnics and invalids than the forests of
Prinkipo. In fact, the lay of the land, the winding
roads and by-paths, the seats for the pedestrian
and lounger, and the general beauty, surpass our
more pretentious isle.

We arrive at the top of the mountain of, the
commercial school. Here are pretty gardens.
Here, too> is a tomb of much elegance. It is a
tomb of a patriarch of the Orthodox Greek
Church. There is a tomb of an English minister
of Queen Bess's time. He fought for one of the
Sultans in the Danubian country. The college
is semi-religious, although commercial. Soon we
are joined by one of its directors, and by the jani-
tor and several of his servants. It is vacation.
The students are absent. We enter the court-

A LITTLE " COMMERCIAL " CHURCH. l^

yard and dismount. A priest with a pleasant
beaming smile — not the kind of beam referred to in
the Scripture — brings out a big key, and the an-
cient church is opened. There is no troublesome
unshoeing or slipping, as when we enter a
mosque. It is a little church and quite young.
It is only 800 years old. It is black with age and
the soot of burning candles. All the available
space in the two apartments and even in the little
altar room is filled with images of saints. One
saint twice produced, Saint Macarius, has a long
white beard that touches his sandals. Like all
images in the Greek churches, these pictures,
hands and all, are covered with either gold or sil-
ver or some metallic imitation. The faces are not
covered. They look out of the shiny aureoles.
Some rare relics are here, and exceptionally old
books, but the antique effect is tawdry. The
church is as neat as it can be in its dress of lace
and gold. There are carved seats, which look old
in the dim religious colored light from windows of
antique style. There is a vitriol lamp burning
before the Virgin. Faded flowers, silver chains,
crucifixes, volumes of the Scriptures, and chants,
—these give a mysterious awe to this antique
edifice hid away in the mountains, which once
knew and felt the power of the great Greek
hierarchy and empire of the East. Tapers
by the score are piled up on a table. There is

T -6 THE PRINCES ISLES.

nothing, however, musty in the little pent-up edi-
fice, for the smell of myrtle or pine gives a deli-
cious sweetness.

As Pedro talks modern Greek like a native, be-
ing born on the borders of Epirus, we communi-
cate easily with the priest. We find him not only
a healthy and hirsute person, of fine physique and
pleasant manners, but of unusual intelligence as to
his own religion.

The director gallants us to the long salle a
manger and dormitory. These accommodate 167
students, and are as neat as can be. We visit the
library. It did not interest. It was made up of
Greek and French books. The latter are of the
age of the French Revolution or before. Rousseau
lies quietly beside Buffon : the one a beast and the
other a writer about beasts. Obsolete literature is
plentiful. We glance at a globe which represents the
world, including our United Colonies in the time
of John Smith of Virginia. Then we enter a long
corridor, decorated with sketches of ancient Greeks,
Homeric heroes and fathers of the church. We
seek the open air, feeling as if we had been buried.

Again we mount our donkeys. Sending off one
of the gamins to order our launch, we go round
the isle to the little bay in front of the college,
down to the water side. There we find a restau-
rant and garden. The proprietor gives us lemon-
ade and coffee, and a bouquet for " Madame."

CHURCH UNDER GROUND. l^

We remount to take a path through the forests to
a little old church under ground, cut in the rocks.
It is the same kind of old church as the rest, only
with a different name. This is called " The
Holy Spirit." The Greeks always have a
restaurant or tavern near their religious home, just
as the Moslem has a mosque near his barracks,
or a fountain near his mosque.

We do not find any person taking care of this
" little church round the corner" of the white cliff,
where we venture. We are free to go upon the
premises. Here is a bed out in the air, and
another in a little cave near the church. Fuel is
gathered from the pine trees — we beg pardon, not
"from," but " under" them ; for it is forbidden to
take the cones from the trees, only those that fall
are taken. Charcoal is already binned for the
winter. Could a more secluded spot be found on
this uninhabited part of the isle ? On the other
side more than a thousand people live. There the
streets are roomy and nice. The town reminds
one of a town in Italy or Spain, except that the
houses are better and more comfortable. They are
of wood. Halki is a sort of rival of Prinkipo as a
health and summer resort ; but the best class live
in Prinkipo. The rich people and grand villas are
in Prinkipo. I cannot help but conclude that
Halki has more natural beauty of site, forest and
shrubbery. Owing to the scholastic and other

!^g THE PRINCES ISLES.

associations of Halki, there is more interest for the
Greek on this isle. When one sees the remnant
of this grand race, lifting up still, though under
adverse institutions and circumstances, the banner
of the cross, one cannot help pondering upon a his-
tory that began with the heroes of Troy, and even
yet listens delightedly to the oratory of Delyani
and Tricoupis under the shadow of the Acropolis.
Our next visit is to the church of St. George.
It is reached through the cypress avenues, as
the picture represents. St. George seems to be a
favorite with the Greeks, especially in these isles.
The king of Greece is popular, not only because
he is an amiable and equitable ruler, but because his
name is George. In a great many churches this
saint, who is of Cappadocia and has a marvellous his-
tory, is always pictured as slaying the dragon. In
the painting at St. George's monastery and church
in Halki, .he is painted as rescuing a damsel in dis-
tress from the fangs of the monster. The artist
has discreetly and graphically made the dragon
climb half way up the haunches of the saint's gray
charger, and has so arranged the dragon that
George runs his spear into his opened jaws' and
clear through the animal, making the weapon truly
lethal. It is not the pictures of this church that
allure the visitor, although there are in the new
church dozens of pictures of saints of the best
Russian art. They are presents from Russia.

A RICH CHURCH.

But the situation is the attraction. The long dou-
ble alley of cypresses, three deep, leads the pleased
traveller up to the monastery. The main building
is on a precipitous bluff of rocks. From its ter-
races and under its cypresses Prinkipo is in full
and near view. It looks off to the east and south.
St. George monastery, too, has a history, but
there is not so much of antiquity or tradition about
it to give smirch to its saints or a dim religious
light to its richly dight windows. It is rich, how-
ever, in this world's goods. It is the proprietor of
some twenty houses in a long row upon the terrace,
above the cypresses. These it rents. In the Mid-
dle Ages it was connected with the church of
Chalcedon. Now, where is, or was, Chalcedon ?
It is on the way to Constantinople, which we shall
soon travel in another chapter. All these scenes
make us moralize upon events which carry us
back to the first centuries of the Christian religion.

CHAPTER XII.

ANTIGONE AND PROTI HISTORIC AND OTHER

INCIDENTS.

THERE is not much to be seen by the eye upon
the island of Antigone. But its classic name
gives it a flavor of the Greek, while its three
monasteries have a rare, eventful history. The isl-
and was formerly called " Panormos," which
means in Greek " a harbor safe on all sides."
The Turks call it " Bourgas-Ada," the Island of the
Fortress, owing to an ancient fortress which ex-
isted there, but of which there is no trace now.

The monastery of the Transfiguration is on the
summit of the highest hill of this island. It was
pulled down by order of the Sultan Murat IV. in
1 720, in consequence of a procession with torches
which, according to ancient custom, went round
the monastery on the night of Good Friday in
that year. The Turks, seeing the lights and the
commotion from across at Kadikeui, became
alarmed. They demanded and obtained an edict
from the Sultan that the monastery should be razed
to the ground. Contrary to what the author of " lies
des Princes " says, there are plenty of ruins and

1 80

MELANCHOLY ANTIGONE.

181

monuments connected with the monastery remain-
ing, and even tombs of exiled princes with the
bones carefully preserved. The author of " lies
des Princes " falls also into an unpardonable error
regarding the little island of Pita, which he places
between Halki and Prinkipo. He cannot surely
have visited the islands at all or else he would
have known that Pita is just in front of Antigone.
It helps immensely to make the little harbor of
that island a safe retreat. Pita is uninhab-
ited and has no interest whatever attaching to
it, except an ancient cistern with a quaintly carved
pillar in the middle. This shows that in former
times the isle was inhabited.

Antigone is a melancholy isle compared with
Halki and Prinkipo. Is it because so lugubri-
ously named ? Poor Antigone, the forerunner
of Juliet even as Haemon, her betrothed, was the
antitype of Romeo ; for did she not sacrifice her-
self when entombed alive, and her lover kill
himself by her corpse ?

Every isle of Greece thus perpetuates some in-
vention or myth in which the tragic element
plays its part. The birds of Antigone circle all
about us, then fly off, organize into companies and
battalions and return to us with a wail which
Greek fancy might translate into some woful song.

Upon the sides of the mountains, beyond the
cliffs, are lanes through the shubbery — lanes for

j 32 THE PRINCES ISLES.

the goat and sheep. As we pass beyond the
point a wreck is seen with one mast standing.
The proofs are written in the chaotic rocks of
the shore, of how earthquake and tempest have
wounded and shaken the isle. The colors of the
rocks are various, some black as the porphyry of
upper Egypt, some brownish-red as the iron can
paint them, and some as white as snow.

As we regard it a duty to take possession,
pedis possessio, of each one of these princely '
isles, we array our boat in greenery and flowers,
and start upon this September morning for An-
tigone. The wind is fresh. The curl of the
lilies upon the blue sea gives us warning ; but as
the wind, whose nautical moods I study, is not
from the south, we venture over the two miles
of azure. Before we turn the point of Halki,
the ferry from the city steams around that rocky
isle. A wave of a handkerchief from some one
on board indicates that our capoudji (messenger)
from the Legation is on board. As business is
always before diversion, we whisk our launch
around and pursue the steamer into the harbor
of Halki. Our Capitano must have had some-
thing aboard besides his esprit de corps, for he
jams our launch "Sunset" against the side of
the big boat, until my better half begins to forget
her duty as passenger and speaks words of com-
mand in several dialects at once ; and my Dalma-

VISIT TO ANTIGONE.

'S3

tian serviteur, Pedro, regains his profane tongue,
which is Italian. We soon capture our mail-
bag and messenger. We read our letters from
home, fresh out of the pouch, and then, ho ! for
Antigone !

The weather is a little hazy, partaking some-
thing of the captain's condition. We cannot see
the distant mountains of Asia except in dim
outline, but the sun shines on the minaretted
and domed glories of Stamboul ; and that is
enough. Antigone has quite a population. They
are nearly all, if not all, out on the pier to
greet our strange flag ; but as they charge a
mejidie (or dollar) if we stop at the pier more than
five minutes, the Captain makes money by hailing
a caique at half that sum. We land in that
little frail craft and in a tossing sea. The crowd
is attracted by our flag and the infrequency of
such a vessel at the port of Antigone. Once this
was quite a busy commercial place. The
heavy stone walls of the harbor, and the solid
walls of the villas, red and black with iron-rust, in-
dicate that formerly here was a substantial people.
The drives are all for donkeys ; no carnages are
allowed. But we dispense with donkeys, and are
content to saunter upon the terraces, where we
are observed by such members of the families of
the town as had not appeared on the quay to re-
ceive us. Many of the houses have elegant ter-

1 84

THE PRINCES ISLES,

raced gardens. Some of the houses are as quaint
as those of old Amsterdam, with points, angles, ga-
bles and balconies overhanging the street. After
some observation of the town and a glance at the
crowning monastery we re-embark, not without
a transient souvenir of the isle. This consists of
a huge watermelon, upon whose sides the Greek
artistic vender has made two drawings by scrap-
ing the green rind. The first sketch is plain
enough to decipher ; but can the reader guess
what the other one is. It is a fire-engine, such
as the pompiers of the towns and cities of the
East regard as the refinement of inventive art. It
is to be regretted that I cannot reproduce the
picture here.

Fires are very frequent in Constantinople and
its adjacent villages. The structures are wooden,
dry and frail. The streets are narrow, and
therefore the fires are very destructive. There is
much smoking of tobacco by the Turk. There is
such a general use of charcoal and braziers, such a
general carelessness in using the cigarette and
ch^bouq^^,e, together with the matted floors that
fires are frequent. The last thing that I saw
before I left Constantinople was the practice of
the fire brigade under the tuition of their chief.
He is a Hungarian nobleman. He is providing
modern means to put out fires, especially in Pera.
The little engines, a caricature of which suggests

FIRE ENGINE.

I85

these incidents and which the pompiers carry
along with such hideous cries, are not bigger than
the ordinary engines which we have to water our
garden at home. They have but a single chamber.
This is about eight inches long by three or four in
diameter. They seem rather to nourish a fire.
The firemen themselves are said to be selected for
personal strength and activity, — I should say for
lung force. On their heads they wear a broad
cap. They are naked to their waists.

Do you ask how is the alarm of fire given ?

I answer : Upon the elevated Seraskierate
tower of the War Office in Stamboul there is a
guard who watches. When a fire occurs, he
beats a big drum, and shouts wildly, " Wang gin
var" which, literally interpreted, means, " A fire
there is ! " This assembles the firemen. It
alarms the people. The tower of Galata is also
used for the same purpose on the other side of
the Golden Horn. If it be in daylight flags are
flaunted from the tops of these towers, indicating
by their color and arrangement where the fire is,
and by night other signals are used for this pur-
pose.

Before sailing homeward to Prinkipo we may at
least glance at, if not land upon, Proti. Proti is
the first, as the word signifies and as the map
shows, of the nine isles on the way from Con-
stantinople. It is by no means the last of the nine

THE PRINCES ISLES,

in historic and monastic interest. Its houses are
few and scattered. But one tree decorates its
summit. A few others surround a house. The
sides of the isle looking toward the city are scarred
by wave and storm. It is not so attractive nor so
much frequented as the sister isles of Halki, Anti-
gone and Prinkipo. Whether it be fire, or goats,
or man, or tariffs, its forests are gone. Much of
its beauty and all of its productiveness have de-
parted. How often have we to remark this fact in
the Orient ! Dr. Stanley has said the same on the
aspect of Palestine. He refutes the presumption
of its limited resources in ancient days, by its
present depressed and desolate state. But doubt-
less the aspect and advantages of the land have
greatly changed. So it is with all these lands, in-
cluding the Greek isles and the Asian mainland.
Asia Minor and Syria could once have brought forth
ten times their present product and have supported
ten times as many as their present population.
This sterility involves the question always asked in
the Orient : " Can these calcined and stony places
ever have been a land flowing with milk and
honey?"

Proti is associated with Halki in several pretty
narratives. It once had another name. Greek
and Turkish nomenclature for places always
represent some sensible object. Some of the
names are quite poetical, others quite common-

THE WHETSTONE ISLE,

I87

place. This isle of Proti appears to have been
formerly styled also " Acconce " or " Acconitis,"
from the quantity of whetstone which was once
to be found on it, the Greek word accona
(Akovrj) meaning whetstone. By the Turks it
is called " Khinali Ada," Reddish Island. Proti
had formerly a fine harbor and populous village
on its eastern side, but they have disappeared.
Only a few remnants of ruins are left, among
which are two large-sized cisterns of the Byzan-
tine period. These indicate the spot where the
old village was situated. The harbor has been
washed away by the sea. The present village
occupies quite a different site.

There were three monasteries on this island.
The smallest of these monasteries was that built
by the Anatolian, General Vardane. It was de-
stroyed on the 2Oth of February, 1807, by the
British fleet under Admiral Sir John Duckworth
and Rear-Admiral Lewis. That fleet comprised
ten men-of-war. Among them may be mentioned
the two-decker, "-Endymion," and the " Ajax" of
74 guns. The latter caught fire accidentally and
was entirely destroyed. After forcing the Straits
of the Dardenelles and destroying part of the
Turkish fleet, which was lying at Gallipolis, this
fleet came and anchored in the harbor of Proti.
There it remained eleven days. The Turks, in
order to prevent the English from getting water

THE PRINCES ISLES.

and fuel from the island, sent a small detach-
ment of sixty determined men from Kadikeui,
who, after some difficulty, succeeded in landing
and entrenching themselves in the monastery.
The English landed a party and attacked the
monastery to which they finally set fire. The
Turks, driven from their stronghold, offered a fierce
resistance. After killing a considerable number,
they at last drove the English out of the isle, and
before the latter could return in stronger force, the
Turkish detachment was saved from its perilous
situation by the inhabitants of Halki, who came in
their caiques at night and took off the Turks. In
recompense for this service and their bravery, the
Halkiotes were granted by the then Sultan, Selim,
exemption from taxes, a privilege which they con-
tinue to enjoy up to the present time.

CHAPTER XIII.

PLATI AND OXIA SIR HENRY BULWER'S FATAL LIT-
TLE ISLE HIS DIPLOMACY AND HIS ECCEN-
TRICITIES.

FROM any eminence in Constantinople, upon a
clear day, two isolated rocks apparently leap out
of the Sea of Marmora — the classic Propontis.
But they are not merely rocks. Oxia, in Greek,
means "late in the day," or "Sunset." It is thus
named because the sun lingers last on its prom-
inence. From one point it looks like the pyra-
mid of Ghizi. We have not, yet been upon it, but
we have been around it. It is not inhabited ex-
cept by snakes. Our visit is, therefore, reserved.
But we have accomplished the other little isle,
Plati. It is the Oriental custom to name locali-
ties from some concrete quality, association, or ob-
ject. What Plati means in Greek I can easily sur-
mise. Although it is some 300 feet above the sea
level, still it is a plateau. It can be cultivated
nearly over its whole area, which is at least 150
acres. The name is derived from the Greek word
TrAdTy, which means a flat or broad surface. It is
the same root for our word plain, or plaza, or

189

THE PRINCES ISLES.

plat. Plati is due west from Prinkipo and due
south from Constantinople. It is some fifteen
miles from the city.

These twin warders of the archipelago — Oxia
and Plati — are conspicuous figures in the sea.
They have each an individuality, not merely phys-
ically, but strategetically. The power, whether
Greek or Turkish, that held Constantinople, used
them as sentinels to warn of the approach of the
Genoese or knightly enemy. Their isolation made
them capital prisons. Within their horrid caves,
now used for cisterns, the convict was immured
without hope. Sometimes the loose and aban-
doned visited them for the worst purposes of lust
and escapades of deviltry. Pirates sometimes con-
cealed themselves there. But during the Greek
rule, the Greek Church erected monasteries up-
on them. The remains of these are still seen
upon both islands. There was a church, or oratory,
on Plati. Its debris is found near the castle by
the sea. Several times, when the dogs of the big
city became obstreperous, or the horses sick, the
former were deported to the rocky and barren
islet of Oxia, and the horses there found their
paradise. In the place where the hermits were
once established, civilization gave eternal rest to
the animal creation. Sometimes these isles were
used as a target for the practice of the Ottoman
naval guns.

OLD DUNGEONS. jgj

The oubliettes, or dungeons, were once the
scene of a singular freak of justice. Two eminent
patricians had a quarrel. One was a Greek, Basil
Bardas ; the other a Roman, Scliros. They
fought the first duel recorded in the Greek annals.
The story runs that the Emperor Constantine VII.
exiled them — one to Oxia, and the other to Plati.
They were consoled, however ; for, as by a cruel
irony, they were placed near each other, and one
suffered like the other ! Constantine ordered that
their eyes should be put out. It was the pleasant
pastime of these Greek rulers to burn out the
eyes. But on this occasion the Plati prisoner es-
caped, and there was no adequate compensation.

These isles have associations more interesting
to Americans than those which are philologic, his-
toric, geologic, or aesthetic. Plati is best known
as the isle of Sir Henry Lytton Bulwer. The dis-
tinguished diplomat came to Turkey after his ser-
vice at Washington as English minister. He
followed here Sir Stratford Canning, the greatest
of the English ambassadors. How Sir Henry
obtained this isle and what he did with it, and what
associations cluster about it in connection with his
name, would furnish a strange, eventful history.
These concern the biography and eccentricities of
the man and the minister, as well as the qualities
and condition of the isle itself.

There are those in Washington who remember

{g2 THE PRINCES ISLES.

Sir Henry. The Clayton-Bulwer treaty was a fact
of his accomplishment. Scarcely any public man,
from Judge Douglas's time to the present, but has
taken a hand in the discussion of this treaty and
its obnoxious clause so inimical to certain Isth-
mian interests and ambitions of the United States.
Among the rest, in an humble way, the writer
hereof made a report on April 16, 1880, in favor
of its abrogation. The report developed some
matters not generally known. It concerned the
Monroe doctrine and an interoceanic ship canal.
The President had urged in his message the policy
of the canal being under American control. He
urged the necessity of such control as a part of
the guardianship of our coast line. Although
New Granada in the railroad franchise of 1846,
and Nicaragua in the Hise treaty of 1849, recog-
nized the American protectorate, the latter treaty
was not ratified because of Mr. Clayton's alarm
lest a collision with Great Britain would follow.
The Mosquito king played its little, buzzing,
stinging part. Mr. Clayton disavowed the Hise
treaty to the English minister, Crampton ; but
begged the English not to allow us to appear
cowardly by the abandonment of " great and splen-
did advantages." Mr. Clayton begged England
to give up her Mosquito protectorate and share
with us the authority over the transit. In this
awkward way the negotiations proceeded until

CLAYTON-BULWER TREATY. JQ^

April 19, 1850, when the partnership with Great
Britain was consummated. This was done under
the adroit management of Sir Henry Bulwer.
Both parties agreed never "to erect or maintain
any fortifications commanding or in the vicinity of
any ship canal, or to occupy, or fortify, or assume
or exercise any dominion over Nicaragua, Costa
Rica, the Mosquito coast, or any part of Central
America."

England often violated this treaty. But why
particularize ? It is a long story, in which such
statesmen as Cass and Buchanan, Clarendon and
Napier, Ousley and Dallas, Clayton and Bulwer,
and recently Clarendon, Blaine, and Frelinghuy-
sen have figured, and always with an inconsequen-
tial result for us. The subtle crystallization which
Sir Henry Bulwer produced remains like a wall of
adamant across the line of our policy and the
Isthmus. Our puny statesmen have tilted in vain
against this wall with their javelins of straw.

The English employ such trained diplomatists
as Bulwer the world around. But his chicanery
and selfishness overtook him at last. His Nemesis
was the genius of Plati. The rock .upon which
his career foundered was this islet to which the
prow of our little launch is turned.

Sir Henry has left various impressions here
upon those who knew him. I.was not in Congress
when the treaty was made. I do not remember

i94

THE PRINCES ISLES.

ever to have seen him at Washington. He is
described as a most engaging and charming gen-
tleman. In social etiquette and style he had no
peer. He was tall and thin in person. His nose
was hooked and peaked ; his face was long and
grave ; his eye was like a flash of lightning ; his
upper teeth protruded, and his mouth was set a
little awry. Despite these gauckeries he was not
unhandsome. I fancy that he was not unlike his
elder brother, the great novelist. In conversation
he was unrivalled. He was a capital raconteur.
He liked to emit startling paradoxes. He was an
admirable speaker. Whether he was sincere or
not, he made all seek his society and like him.
His voice was measured, low, musical, and per-
suasive. He was most at home in intrigue. In
this he displayed the timbre of his character. He
went into a diplomatic contest con amore, vizor up
and lance pointed. He generally pierced the
armor of his antagonist. He usually won, for he
did not disdain to use all the arts known to the
old style diplomacy, which he held was fast fading
away. Altogether he is described to me by the
physician who attended him and by the captain of
his yacht as a most extraordinary and fascinating
man, but replete with whims, of which the owner-
ship of this isle is by some accounted one of the
most peculiar.

He was ambassador in the time of Abdul Mejid,

THE FATAL GIFT. ^

whom I remember seeing on my trip here in 1851.
No more worthy Sultan, unless I except his son,
the present Sultan, Abdul Hamid II., ever did
more for the reform of his Government or made
more sacrifices for the advancement of civilization.
He is known in the East as the Haroun al Raschid
of modern times. Sir Henry Bulwer had, there-
fore, many opportunities of aiding effectually in
the regeneration of the East.

Sir Henry conquered the good-will of this Sul-
tan of happy memory, by some special efforts
about the succession in Egypt. As a consequence,
or reward, the Khedive of Egypt made him a gift of
this isle. He began its improvement. He erected
the two castles — one on the shore and the other on
the summit. It is said that they were intended as
miniatures of his own ancestral home at Knebs-
worth, England. He had another whim. He
thought to raise cattle on the island. In fact, he
stocked it with some cattle of the rarest breed.
A storm of a fortnight, before the days of steam
ferries here, prevented adequate provender from
reaching the isle. The cattle perished and so did
the enterprise. He seldom lived on the island.
His wife visited it frequently, but only to remain
a short time. Sometimes with friends he stayed
over night and had a good time, but his health
was infirm. He could not follow very far a cer-
tain jocund disposition without hurt to his physical

196

THE PRINCES ISLES.

system. He was odd about his health. His doctor
tells me that he saw him every day for four years,
and that he used to take a different pill at the end
of each dish at his meals. It was one of his ca-
prices to have frequent imaginary ills and pills. It
was the remark of Guizot about him, that "if Bul-
wer were ill, look out ! Mischief was sure to fol-
low his pills." Guizot had reference to Bulwer's
tact at Madrid in the matter of the Spanish mar-
riage of the Duke de Montpensier, son of Louis Phil-
ippe. Sir Henry must have had a bad spell about
the time he inveigled Mr. Clayton to sign away an
American protectorate over the Isthmian ways.

How he used to chuckle over his diplomatic
triumphs ! Some of them were won in Roumania
along with Halil Pacha, a festive companion and
a good fellow, a colleague of Bulwer in Roumania.
How he used to laugh over his circumvention of
Mr. Clayton ! These are a part of the traditions
and gossip yet at Pera, which is called the ant-hill
of politics.

He had curious characteristics. Sometimes it
was thought that he was mean in money matters ;
but the owner of our launch, Mr. Jones, who
brought out a steam yacht for him from England,
and used to ship him about these isles and the
Bosphorus, tells me that at times he was extrava-
gantly and unexpectedly generous. He was often
timorous of society. . He would hide from his em-

B UL WER'S ECCENTRICITIES. j g-r

bassy and friends for weeks at a time. It was
his whim or his respite. His doctor says that
once, while attending him at Cairo, he insisted
on spending three weeks with an old English
farmer out of that city, where, amid the chickens,
donkeys, dogs, and hogs, he was content to live
on the homely fare and under the simple cottage
thatch of the peasant, whom he never afterward
failed substantially to remember.

It is a part of the reminiscences about Sir Henry,
that while he was resplendent in social life and ex-
quisite in personal taste, he was not to be relied
upon. His word was not absolute verity. It was
not exactly unveracity. It was imagination, all
compact. It was a desire to please. He was
princely in his entertainments. After he was no
longer ambassador here, he returned on some
speculative mission. He held the same old high
carnival daily and nightly with his epicurean
friends. What he did to embarrass the American
missionaries here I do not exactly know. It had
some reference to the^ American (Robert) College.
Its then President, Dr. Hamlin, in his book, han-
dles him without gloves. He held him to be as
destitute of public probity as he was of private
morality.

As Dr. Hamlin was outspoken as to this person-
age, I may quote what he says, in his published
volume : —

198

THE PRINCES ISLES.

" The case of the college was at length laid be-
fore Sir Henry Bulwer. He was a man, of no prin-
ciple ; but he knew that to carry the measure
would get him credit in England. He took hold
of it with the intention of carrying it through.
After a long time, and wearisome delays, he wrote
me a note, saying that the question was decided,
and that, within three days, I should have leave to
go on.

" I next received a note from him, telling me that
I had made an unwise and inconsiderate bargain,
in purchasing that place, and the consequences
should justly fall on my own head. He saw no
reason why the English Embassy should have any
further trouble with regard to it !

" It was a treachery so base that I made no reply
to it, and had nothing more to do with Sir Henry
Bujwer. I felt curious, however, to know the rea-
son for such a sudden facing about. Nor was it
at all difficult to find.

" He had received a magnificent 'gift' from the
Pasha of Egypt, with a request that he would ar-
range some important and pressing affairs with
the Porte.

" Another was sent to the Countess G , one

of Sir Henry's mistresses, and, of course, he un-
dertook the Pasha's business. Among the condi-
tions made by A'ali Pasha, in return, was, that he
should throw that college question overboard

HIS OLD-TIME DIPLOMACY.

which he accordingly did, as not worth a moment's
consideration. It is a good specimen of Sir
Henry's character. In similar circumstances he
would have thrown overboard any English inter-
est with equal coolness."

As an illustration of the morale of the diplomacy
of Sir Henry Bulwer, let me record a fact. In
May, 1860, Prince Gortschakoff addressed a circu-
lar to the great powers of Europe as to the condi-
tion of the Christians in the Balkan peninsula.
It suggested inquiry to verify the facts, so as to
bring about some amelioration. Sir Henry drew
up a list of the questions which he sent to the Brit-
ish consuls throughout the Empire. He accompa-
nies it with a circular of his own. In this he inti-
mates the way in which he expects the consuls to
answer. As a sample of his shrewdness, not to
say old-time diplomacy, in his circular of the 8th
of August, 1860, the following passage occurs:

" Your conduct in this crisis will be duly
watched by me, and my opinion whether favorable
or the reverse, communicated to Her Majesty's
government."

This threat had its commentary in the action of
one unfortunate consul. He failed to receive the
circular, and wrote too plain spoken a report. He
afterwards apologized for it when he saw the cir-
cular, and wrote a second destroying the effect of
the first.

200 THE PRINCES ISLES.

This lack of private morality is not treasured
against him so much as the lack of public honor.
Of his acquisition and disposition of this rocky
islet there is much said. After the isle was
given him, Sir Henry, in 1854, spent $75,000 in
its so-called improvement. He did not keep it
long, but somehow, in some peculiar circuitous
way, he resojd it for a round sum to the then
Khedive of Egypt, Ismael Pasha, who yet lives as
the best or worst type of a millionaire who has
wrought a great fortune out of the misfortunes of
his country.

One of the stories which remains as to this isle
is, that when Lord Lyons was appointed in Sir
Henry's stead as ambassador here, he called on
Lord Palmerston at the Foreign Office in Lon-
don to receive his instructions. After they were
given, Lord Lyons took his leave, saying :

" My lord, is there anything else you can say
as to Turkish affairs and my duties ? "

Lord Palmerston replied " No."

Lord Lyons said " Good-by. "

As he reached the door and was about to make
his exit, Lord Palmerston called out :

" My lord ! Yes ! One thing I forgot. Never
own an island ! "

It was this island of Plati to which Palmerston
referred. It lost Bulwer his place, for he sold it
for a large sum to a party interested in his ser-

THE LA UNCH IN NE W TOILE T. 2Q j

vice. He lost his office by the indelicacy of the
transaction.

Now that we know the later history of the isle,
let the launch steam up. Ho! for Plati ! Let us
see what are the graces of the isle which attracted
and outwitted the clever diplomatist.

Before we dash away from the scala let us take
an observation or two. With a good glass the
two castles upon this rocky islet are visible from
Prinkipo. We make preparations to launch out
for it and lunch on it. Our Dalmatian serviteur,
Pedro Skoppeglia, prepares the latter, while our
Maltese Capitano Vincenzo takes the rudder in
hand and gives his order.

The launch is newly upholstered. It looks as
gay as a jaybird. The cushions have been newly
covered, and the flag looks its prettiest. The
sea is quiet. No white horses are capering over
its smooth azure surface. A few fishermen are
dropping their nets. They look picturesque in
their red sashes, baggy breeches and fez caps.
They are half Greek, half Ottoman. A few ships
lie at anchor in the harbor. The Asian coast, with
its mountain curves on the north and east, is faintly
lined against a sky which has but a few fleeces of
clouds in the east, hiding the snowy tops of the
Mysean Olympus. The sea is intense in its
azure, except where there are rich bands of green,
and the gulls sit like white flowers on its bosom.

202 THE PRINCES ISLES.

The water is as clear as a fountain in July when
one " sees each grain of gravel." Lake Tahoe, in
Nevada, is not more lucent than this water of the
Propontis. A gentle breeze ripples it with sun-
shine, and makes a myriad of glittering dia-
mond points which decorate its blue robe. A
few caiques ^^ feluccas with white wings are in
the distance, whose horizon is stained here and
there with the Cardiff coal smoke emitted from
the steamers bound from Constantinople to the
Dardanelles.

What a picture is that to the northward !
Stamboul, like an odalisque in her yashmak of
finest tulle, seems to emerge from the blue deep.
Like a picture of Turner, a semi-ideal glimpse of
Venice or some weird mirage of Orientalism, it
seems a fairy city of the sea. It is set on seven
hills, and, although a dozen and more miles off, it
looks as unreal as if woven by unseen fingers in
aerial looms — an unsubstantial dream of a country
that never was on sea or land, which " great-
browed Homer ruled as his demesne."

My wife suggests a possibility of fishing at
Plati, or on the way. At once we are environed
by a picturesque group. We choose a four-oared
caique with a canopy, and two sturdy Greeks.
The caique itself is a picture. On its inside is a
clean floor covered with Turkish rugs of rich col-
ors. The wood-work is stained with golden hues.

VIEWS FROM THE SEA. ^

The outside is of green, red and white, daintily
dashed or strewn with flowers not inartistically
painted. You cannot tell stern from bow, so
airily tip-tilted are the graceful ends of the boat.
Our lines and bait are ready. We take a turn in
the harbor with the launch, which was named by
its owner, Mr. Jones, from whom it was leased, in
honor of a pet name I have heard frequently :
"Sunset." Then we take the caique in tow and
leave the quay with much £clat.

Before we leave, let us take a glance at the old
town, with its bath-houses and stone quays. What
is that moving object far off to the Asian shore ?
Is it a duck or a seamew ? The glass reveals it!
It is an amateur in a flatboat, with paddles, which
the man deftly plies. Our little screw gives a few
saucy, splashy turns, for the admiration of the
fishermen and Greek gamins of the quay, and we
are off for the west, — America-ward ! Halki is
neared. Her big yellow barracks by the shore,
with the Turkish naval school, her Greek the-
ological college on the northern summit, and
her wooded and lovely curved mountains, resem-
bling a Mexican saddle or an inverted caique
—these detain the eye, but not the launch.

A breeze springs up as we pass the hotels
Calypso and Giacomo on the craggy shore of
Prinkipo. The superb villas which crown the
bluffs are on our left. The breeze starts the pris-

2O4

THE PRINCES ISLES.

matic windmills in motion. The flag over the
Azarian water tower is our own star-spangled
banner. It kisses the breeze, and we salute the
starry emblem. Boys are swimming in the bay.
The mountains, nearly to the top, seem to sway
in the wind with their pines. The pretty nooks
and twisted rocks of the shore, the gardens pro-
fuse in scent, flower and rare trees pass by as if
we are indeed in dream-land, with pleasure domes
magically evoked out of sleep. Soon we pass on
the south side of Halki. Its rocks are broken,
cavernous, and precipitous, as if lashed by a thou-
sand storms. Along this south side of Halki is
a beautiful harbor. We pass round point after
point of Halki, until between Halki and Antig-
one there opens a vista scarcely credible for
its loveliness. Chatak-Dagh, the highest moun-
tain of the mainland of Asia, is in our rear, 1500
feet high. It fills the gap which we look through.
The shore line and mountains make a landscape
over which and through which there hangs an
interpenetrating lustre and distant unveiling which
would make Bierstadt wild with artistic enthusi-
asm. These isles take on a different dress when
observed from the sea.

We forget to look at yonder avenue of cypresses
on Halki. They lead up to another famous mon-
astery, where many a Greek exile has been housed
and many a marriage ceremony has been per-

CLASSIC SURROUNDINGS. 2Q-

formed. The rocky ledges of Antigone, near
which we now sail, are rugged and lofty. They
are not devoid of trees, which give garniture to
their sides and ledges. Here sea birds live in
great numbers. As we turn to look back again
the dark coves of Western Prinkipo are revealed,
and beyond the southern end of Prinkipo, little
Niandro lies, almost in ambush, at the feet of
St. George's mountain, which looms up as if it
would rival Olympus, whose head is shrouded
in the white clouds anchored over the Mysean
mountains.

Now, if we could keep right on, on, on, where
would we land ? Get the map and see. It strikes
me that we would strike Lemnos isle, to which
the Empress Irene was banished when it pleased
her lord-treasurer to show, his harsh authority
over the murderous mother whose bones lie some-
where on the Isle of Prinkipo. Or if we missed
Lemnos, going due west, we would come up
against the coast of Thessaly, and almost under
the shadow of that other and more classic Olym-
pus as to which there is much to be said when the
roll of Homer's heroes is called.

Our boat turns now to the isle of Bulwer — Plati.
It looks near, say five miles. I strive to sketch
its outlines, for its exterior seems as yet only a
blank rock. Its castles are dimly lined and neb-
ulously white. We look back. Great shadows

206 THE PRINCES ISLES.

from white fleeces of clouds are moving over the
Asian shore, and old Olympus has not yet come
out of his tabernacle. The wavering line of the
Asian shore to the south is pencilled on the edge
of the horizon. It soon vanishes around Mo-
dena's gulf and is lost in the sea.

Passing the checkered and streaked cliffs of
Halki and Antigone, noting the walls here and
there to prevent land slides and excavations from
which iron and copper have been taken, observing
the clean-tilled brown and red earth which the
olive and cypress ornament, smelling the scented
shrub or machie which gives its fragrance to the
air, we turn again to look back ; and lo ! St.
George's monastery, on southern Prinkipo, is a
white dot on the green eminence. We pass the
southern shore of Antigone and note upon the
narrow shingly beach the men who hunt birds,
steal their eggs, and gather oysters or some other
crustacce, which abound on these shores. They
have boats. We run close to the beetled crags,
colored and speckled like the increase of Jacob's
flocks, while here and there are big boulders held
aloft in the arms of stout rocks which frost and
earthquake have tumbled from the scarred moun-
tain sides. Antigone rises sheer 500 feet. Her
side is full of caves. What are those white flowery
specks mingled with the rock and greenery ? We
soon ascertain, for have we not discovered and

BIRD LIFE.

aroused the gulls and cormorants that here nestle ?
They come out of their nooks by the thousand,
and keep up such a clamor that it seems like the
angry protest of a bird mob against the invasion
of their haunts by our launch.

These are the birds which make Marmora and
the Bosphorus so full of life, even when the hot
air silences all other noise and motion. They are
never disturbed or killed by the inhabitants.
They have a monopoly of the isle. They are
gentle, as all inhabitants of the isle, — which is
named after the heroine of Sophocles, — should be.

This tameness of the birds is not limited to the
Island of Prinkipo. All through the mosques and
groves and walls and gardens of the old city of
Stamboul you hear a universal twitter and the
fluttering of wings which indicate the life of the
birds. The sparrows fly in and out of the houses.
The swallows, which seemed partial to my presence,
fix their nests in every convenient arch in and out
of the bazaars. The pigeons are maintained by
many, and have a mosque of their own named
after them. The gulls rival in number the turtle-
doves, the one having dominion of the air and
the other of the woods and cemeteries. The
halcyons fly in long ranks up and down the Bos-
phorus, as if restlessly intent on some very
earnest business ; while the grave and dignified
stork sits upon the towers of Anatolia and Rou-

2o8 THE PRINCES ISLES.

melia, and upon the cupolas of the grand mauso-
leums. The Turk never harms these birds.
Every bird has a little office of trust which it exe-
cutes for this wild, reckless and sanguinary Turk.

Now we steer direct for Plati. Its profile is a
semicircle. It has dark gaps in its sides. There is
a white building on its shore and another on its sum-
mit. A few more whirls of the "Sunset's" screw
and there is revealed the two Anglo-Saxon castles.
No houses yet appear. The smaller sister, Oxia,
is more like a pyramid. In fact, it is about twenty
times as large as the pyramid of Ghiza, but not so
symmetrical. As we draw near it takes on a rough
aspect. These twin isolated rocks, as we approach,
become quite tall and roomy. I should say that
Plati — Bulwer's Isle — is at least a mile in circuit.
Looking to the north-west there appears in dim
outline the European coast. The white specks
are the houses of San Stefano. There the famous
Turco-Russian treaty was made, and there the
Russian army lay in wait ready for a spring at, and
into, Constantinople.

As we approach the little isle the haze lifts.
The desert of blue water is oased by a splen-
did ship in full sail, bearing the Greek ensign.
It moves like a vision of beauty and leaves
no cloud upon the sky. It hides between the
isles we have passed, then reappears. It is mov-
ing toward Modena, which is the port of the

WELCOME TO PL. ATI. 2OQ

ancient capital of the Ottoman at the foot of
Olympus.

Now we are within a hundred yards of Plati,
but as we cannot land in the launch, we embark
on the caique with the fishermen, and are rowed
into a little cave, where we are saluted by the sen-
eschal of the castle. He is an old man, an Arme-
nian, George by name. His last name is the last
thing we inquire for. Every one here goes by
the Christian name, even the Turks ! The castle
is then, indeed, inhabited. Its towers and walls
have a relict radiance of past glory. As we enter
the chief room an enormous chandelier attracts at-
tention. Then the fresco of the walls, the mosaic
of the floors, and the tessellated pavements of the
courts all speak of occupation and sudden decay.
Everything is quiet. No birds sing : not even a
cicada chirps. Not a ship or boat is in view.
The sea is still. It seems like that primeval time
before the winds were loosed from their caves.
The water glistens and glows under the July sun.
The haze clears away almost entirely. The city
of Stamboul rises out of the blue elements. The
minarets and cupolas of the mosque of Sulieman-
yeh — the best specimen of the Osmanli structural
genius — and the minarets and dome of stately
Sofia, seem to gesture upward and swell with new
grandeur. Turning to the east, every one of the
nine isles are marked in clear outline, except little
14

2 j 0 THE PRINCES ISLES.

Pita, which plays hide and seek behind Antigone,
and Andirovitha, which lies prone like the dragon
under the shadow of St. George of Prinkipo. The
clouds still enshroud Olympus on the south, but
the outline of the Asiatic coast is becoming more
definite.

The lower castle is much the larger. It has
many chambers — reception rooms with fireplaces,
as if it might have been comfortable in winter.
One of the rooms is a large frescoed hall. It has
various bookcases, but no books, only painted titles.
They give added mockery to this shell of a
castle. Here is "The History of Mehemet Ali ; "
there the " Histoire des Arabes;" yonder, Rob-
inson's " Palestine," and again here D'Ohsson's
" Tableau d'Empire Ottoman." Over a Turkish in-
scription I find one most characteristic volume,
contents omitted — " Notes of Machiavelli and
Montesquieu."

After looking about the castle on the shore, we
mount the hill by a path. We are conducted by
the Armenian. He tells us that he farms the
property and that that is his consideration for
being its chdtelain. I ask : " Do you make any-
thing out of it?"

" Some years a little. Not much this year."
" How many hands do you employ ?"
"We have," he replies, "eight persons on the
island, including my boy here, Antoine, and my

THE CASTLES. 2II

wife, who keeps house in the upper castle. The
other men are flailing the oats now and caring for
the six cows and one bull."

The path to the upper castle had once been laid
out with skill and fringed with flowers, '^^fleur-
de-lis has left its remnants here on the borders.
We pass old fig-trees that never fail to live where
there is a mouthful of dust, a few olive, ash, and
locust trees, remains of old buildings, oratories,
convents, and kiosks, and pedestals of carved mar-
ble and broken heads of columns, doubtless
ravished from old temples and never worked into
the projected architecture. Then we stand in
front of the main castle. It is surrounded by foli-
age. It has even in its ruin a fairylike look.
" Perhaps in this neglected spot " Sir Henry
hatched many a diplomatic .egg, or revelled in
many a bout with his attache's and friends.

There is a little touch of the Arabic in the
Gothic of the building which destroys its unity.
Large rocks and boulders lie about its esplanade.
Sheafs of grain are stacked, and some maize and
melon patches are on the terraces.

The building above is not. so stately as the
castle by the sea, but it is in better preservation
and is prettier. The rocks are clad in a red lichen ;
and vines in good condition are ;n eligible places.
Here and there are garden spots, in which are
gourds, pistachio nuts, melons, artichokes, and

212

THE PRINCES ISLES.

tomatoes in good growth. But the business looks
as if it had gone to seed ; so do the peasants, in
their Turkish fez, red Greek sash, and baggy
breeches. The only healthy and handsome gentle-
man on the isle is the bull. We come upon him
unexpectedly. He makes a quiet remark in his
own tongue, upon which I retreat suddenly. I
am happy to see that he is tethered to a stake, which
he could not pull up, by a chain he cannot break.
His five cows serenely chew their cuds, and give
no sign of surprise at our presence near the harem.
We stand in front of the castle. The chdt-
elaine appears. She is not romantic nor pretty,
but polite. The two men stop their flail and
come down the circular steps that lead to the por-
tal above. On this circled terrace are trees of
luxuriant growth and tangled vines in flower.
The front of the palace has its windows and doors
arched with brown and white stone from Chios.
The floors within the rooms are of marble mosaic,
and are not yet disarranged by neglect. The ceil-
ings of most of the rooms are low, and where the
rain has not entered, are as clean as when just
frescoed. There are mirrors all about, in the din-
ing, library, and other rooms. The colored glass
gives a dim religious light to the chambers. But
the feature of these apartments is the imitation
book-cases. These are cupboards, but their doors
are neatly painted with the binding and titles of

SHELL OF A LIBRARY. 2l$

works of all kinds. This seems to have been the
ruling passion of Bulwer — this outside display of
literature. I ask George to open one of the
book-cases. Ostensibly it was a library of vol-
umes on the English, French, German, and Turk-
ish ciiisine. He opens it, and a lot of bottles
filled with the vin du pays appear. This evokes
a smile all round ; but George does not tender us
a perusal of the contents of these brittle books.
Here are books entitled " Wine Drinkers,"
" Geography," and " Metaphysics." Over one
door of this library is written in French: "//
faut vivre avec ses amis." Over another is the
same motto in Turkish. It seems strange that
Bulwer should seek such a secluded spot, where
friends could rarely come, and where, if the tradi-
tions are correct, he was rather limited in his se-
lection by number and sex. What a commentary
these chambers furnish of the elegant man of the
world — this type of the accomplished strategist
in the wiles of diplomatic war !

Upon these marble floors lie piles of oats
and broken straw for the kine, while the sound of
the flail keeps time where the golden bowl used
to flow and the viands of the epicure were wont
to steam. Now the common vegetable used for
the peasant's soup — called sobitha — a kind of seed
or nut, is spread in one room, while in another the
worm-eaten wooden floor has lost its power even

THE PRINCES ISLES.

of storage. Upon these desolations the soft hues
of the stained archways give a melancholy lustre,
which the mirrors yet unbroken on ceiling and on
wall reflect in multiform shapes. Some pictures
are in the salle a manger, but they are not as fresh
as those I saw on the tombs of Egypt, four thou-
sand years old.

We pass up a stairway of white marble,
which is perfect, and the only perfect piece of
work remaining. Streaks of white light here shoot
through the round windows. Here, too, is another
illusory library. One cupboard has a lot of suppos-
ititious volumes entitled, " Is Wine Beneficial ? "
another in German — " Drunken." Secret recesses
repeat these illusions. Here, over the bedstead,
in an alcove, is a case of " Rfoes " — Dreams !
The bedstead is elegant, but the family of the
Armenian peasant sleep upon the coarse quilt
which covers its gilding. Over the fireplaces are
volumes of " Day Dreams," another of " Visions."
The outlook over the castellated terrace up-stairs
shows the superb sea in its ultramarine robe, and
Stamboul the Beauteous ! The upper rooms
are hot and close. Some of the doors are screens
of flowers in applique, upon cloth, picturing vine,
leaf, and grape upon both sides.

These rooms are painful to behold, like the
wreck of a proud man in the glory of his youth.
Upon the floor below, in one of the rooms,

TANGLES OF TIME. 215

there lie the disjecta membra of an alabaster vase of
proportionate elegance, and chased with the vine,
leaf and fruit. I asked George if he thought the
ex-Khedive's agent in Constantinople would sell
this.

"Yes, he would. In fact, it had been once sold
to an American, but he had never taken it nor
paid for it. Ali Effendi, at Kioskontak, on the
Bosphorus, is the agent. See him ! "

We passed out into the court. It is not large,
say 100 feet square. It has a fountain, but no
water. It has flowering shrubs, but their scent is
wild, as if the tangle of time had deprived them of
sweetness. Weeds, weeds, weeds — all, an epitome
of the life of their former owner. Some of the
walls are tumbling down, and have props, but the
arches spring perennially beautiful in their various
stones from the island home of Homer. The
general color of the building is white, so that the
stains of time and weather are plainly apparent.
Still the towers remain, and the castellation is
clean cut against the sky.

The best-preserved portions of the castle are
the stables. They are quite roomy. What did
Sir Henry want of horses on so small an isle ? I
stumbled over an old grist stone made to grind
the grain — as old as that which Mungo Park's ne-
gresses used when he was investigating Africa —
the counterpart of that which is seen in Egypt to-

2I6 THE PRINCES ISLES.

day. I can understand its utility here in this
lonely place. There are fishers' nets lying about
in which my feet are entrapped. Their raison
d'etre is also apparent, for Marmora is the sea for
fish par excellence. I can appreciate the pleasure
terrace beyond the palace, looking west, for here
the sentimental diplomat of the Bulwer type could
profitably muse as he looks off toward sunset
and Washington, where his Clayton-Bulwer treaty
is still discussed. I can appreciate also the garden
of figs and melons between this terrace and the
western end of the isle — a wild, incongruous ro-
mance on durable rock ; for have we not regaled
ourselves upon the fresh fig and the delicious mel-
ons ? I can imagine a utility in the little lizard
which flashes into the sunlight out of the rocks, to
give my wife an ejaculatory surprise. Even the
snails which cling to the shrubbery have their use, if
only as a bait for fish. I can well imagine why the
kitchen, with its ovens and wood-house, is separated
from the castle, and which still has its use as a
chicken-house. The old petroleum cans that lie
around have their use as buckets. I can under-
stand the compensation which a place of this iso-
lated kind, — so full of remoteness from the " cries
of the people who do come and go, " -—furnishes to
the jaded intellect and the palled taste of the hot
and stifling city. I need not read Ruskin to give
emphasis to the utility of beauty, such as this pano-

UTILITIES AND INUTILITIES. 2 1 7

rama establishes, with breezy fretwork upon the
blue sea, and its inspiration drawn so closely from
the fountains of nature. But I cannot fancy what
on earth Sir Henry could want, on such an isle, of
such stable room for a great stud of horses, who
could not caper very nimbly here without falling
off into the Marmora sea.

Perhaps the solution is found in the Quixotic
spirit which erected these castles in such an out-
of-the-way spot, or perhaps in the spirit of some
of the mock volumes whose titles I read in the
lower castle halls, as, ''Themes on the Impossible,"
or " L' Advantages de la Lune et du Soleil Com-
pares," or " Charmes du Manage par un Gar£on
de 80 ans ; " for in their different-colored bindings,
blue, red, and green, these odd and outre" titles to
textless books render them pretty toilets to the
eye which thirsts for the realities which are not
within.

I said nearly every object here indicates de-
cay. There is an exception in front of the castle.
It is a good has relief of St. George and the
Dragon and an elegant monogram of " H. L. B."
This cipher is all that remains to attest the per-
sonality of the accomplished diplomatist, who, in
making these structures, built more than a Spanish
castle. The figments of his brother, Sir Edward
Lytton-Bulwer, and the poetry of the son (" Owen
Meredith "), who glorified Florence Nightingale by

2i8 THE PRINCES ISLES.

a song as sweet as that melodious bird itself can
sing, have left their permanent impressions upon
our time. But these ruins of mortar and stone,
glass and wood, have no meaning except to mark
the swift decadence of the statesman who erected
them, and of the fall from power of the ex-Khe-
dive, Ismail Pasha, who owns them.

Thus moralizing, we take our way, after making
remuneration to the Armenian keeper for his po-
liteness in showing us the realities of these castles,
which seem from the Bosphorus and from the other
isles like unreal chateaux en Espagne, or castles in
the air. We find at the landing the good launch
"Sunset" sitting like a bird upon the sea, impa-
tient to show off her brand new flag to these ward-
ers of this once strange diplomatic chateau. Our
ambitions take a more apostolic turn, and, forget-
ting diplomacy and its eccentricities, we steam over
the clear blue water to Antigone with our fishing
caique in the wake. There we enter the caique,
and fish for grand pois 'sons, while the launch darts
around the isle for the sustenance of our bodies,
i.e., lunch. What we caught is nothing to nobody.
But we brought home a splendid many-hued string
of memories with all the flavor and zest of castle
building, without the glamour of antiquity.

CHAPTER XIV.

PRINKIPO AS A HERMITAGE CLOISTERED AMENITIES

A RICH LIBRARY.

"THERE is the making of a monk in every man,"
says Miss Cleveland, in her essay on monasticism.
As its complement, it might be said that there is
the making of a nun in every woman. Man is
more than half a recluse. More than half the
time he prefers to be cloistered. Certainly, if he
have studious or contemplative tendencies, and
had the opportunities and books, he would not
mind much isolation from his fellows. John Bun-
yan and Cervantes could fill up their time delight-
fully, even in jail. Men in these Eastern climes
have sought and yet seek the cave and the monas-
tery. When the world palls, or ambition is slaked,
or the passions are paralyzed, men, and women
too, seek diversion in the hermitage. This oc-
curred to me when I first looked at my Prinkipo
" Castle of Indolence," and isolation. I was ready
to say, as I looked at the enchantment of shore,
sea and sky : " Here is Nature's grace ! Here are
the open windows of heaven ! Here dawn and
eve color the vault and deck the blue waves.

219

22O

THE PRINCES ISLES.

Here are cosy nooks and seats of vantage, far from
public work and resort. Here

" Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace,
And their toys to the great children leave ;
Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave."

After a visit to the hermit of Halki, I was more
than ever disposed to bless my stars that, for a
time at least, I had the privilege of a home remote
from all worldly associations, and even from the
usual noises and excitements of the isle. After a
little, however, my sociality began to assert itself.
The little children, the very dogs, chickens and
donkeys evoked it. Within our villa and garden
there were few or no intrusions. I was content to
dream and read, to read and write, until ordered
up the mountain for a sanitary stroll.

When I came to this villa my first adventure
was to the library. The son of the proprietress
had been crowned at Cambridge, England, as first
in classics. His library, though not large, was
pleasing and select. I remembered what Caliban
had said of Prospero in the Isle of "The Tem-
pest:"

" Remember to possess his books ! "

I had practised on this Shakesperian edict. One
of my victims was our city landlord. I levied on
him before I began to prey on the villa library.

MISSIRIE 'S LIBRAR Y. 22 j

That is why and how I had become master of a
library of my own.

The hotel most famous in Constantinople is the
Hotel d'Angleterre. It used to be kept by Mis-
sirie. The soldiers in the Crimean war called his
hotel " Misery." My experience in 1881 was that,
since it has been kept by the Greek, Logothetti,—
"word-bearer," — it was well kept. I had then the
best room, overlooking the Bosphorus and the Sea
of Marmora, and I ought to have been content.
It was not misery. I was content

In rummaging around in the old and odd places
of the hotel I found that travellers to the East for
fifty years had left books and what not, and that
they were gathered in the dusty holes and recon-
dite shelves of the hotel. I used to spoil my clean
linen by exploiting these places for literary spoil.
One book which I found was the volume of an Aus-
trian secretary at Moscow, quite confidentially giv-
ing a narrative of naked facts about Peter the Great
and his diabolism. Only one other copy of the
work was ever found. That one was discovered
by Eugene Schuyler at Naples. The rest, in the
interest and honor of the Czars and their regime,
had been destroyed.

On my return to Constantinople, in 1885, I
went rummaging again. I found that volume
gone. Making a bargain with M. Logothetti, I
" launched " off to Prinkipo quite a lot of these

222 THE PRINCES ISLES.

waifs. They are before me. Here is one ! It
has on its fly-leaf the name of Lady Mary Wort-
ley Montagu. But can it be her signature? If it
were, it would be doubly enhanced. It is only a
Gazetteer of the "known world" in 1815, with "im-
provements" by Dr. Brookes, of London. It is
printed for J. Burnpus. It opens with a map of the
world of 1815, from the "best authorities." The
imaginary and abstract lines — like the poles and
circles — are in the map, in geometric symmetry ;
but between Capricorn and Cancer — the goat and
the crab — in Africa, is " Negro-land," — avast space.
There is hardly a name between that of " Hot-
tentot" and " Barbary." What a filling of space,
since by the De Brazzas and the Stanleys, by the
Spekes, Livingstones, and Bakers !

Among the definitions of this Gazetteer is this :
" That a hill is a small kind of mountain !" This
remarkable book begins with four " Aa's." They
are rivers in Samogitia, Picardy, etc. It ends
with Zytomicrz — a town in Poland, — but pasted at
the end of the zeds, is a poem whose last verse is :

" And woman — woman ever bright !
I loved thee most, when least sincere."

The Gazetteer spells Michigan, Michagan ; Chi-
cago as a river or village is not even named.
Turning mechanically to the word " Limburg," the
Gazetteer says : " It is the place for excellent

OLD GAZETTEER.

cheese." " Limestone, or Maysville, Ky.," is in
the catalogue. Pennsylvania is celebrated for
neither coal, iron, nor oil ; but for potash, furs,
skins, and wax. Philadelphia — the Turks call it
Allahhijah — had then only two thousand Chris-
tians. I beg pardon ; that is the old Philadelphia
near Smyrna, where there was one of the seven
churches. The capital of Penn's State is said by
Mr. J. Bumpus, to have grown so fast that in the
lifetime of the first person born in it, it contained
forty thousand people. As my mother was born
there, it was not exactly a city of brotherly, but of
motherly love ; and I am proud to have it said in
the Gazetteer that it is near New York and has a
magnificent State-house and a Philosophical hall.
Illinois is set down as a river in Indiana. New
Haven is celebrated for its card-teeth, college, and
buttons. Ohio is a State with five districts, of
which New Connecticut is one. There are " no
slaves " there. Marietta is its largest town ; but
Chillicothe is the capital. Massachusetts is well
watered and produces plenty of maize, hemp, and
copper ! It has a machine for cutting nails, — in-
vented by Jacob Perkins, — which makes 200,000
nails a day ! That State makes 1,900,000 gallons
of distilled spirits a year ! New York State has
wheat for its staple and abounds in fine lakes.
The city of New York is fifteen miles in length,
but hardly one in breadth. It has " no basin or

224 THE PRINCES ISLES.

bay for the reception of ships, but the road where
they lie in East river is defended from the terrific
violence of the sea by some islands, which inter-
lock each other ! " What a commentary on Long,
Staten, and other islets, and Hell-gate and its
dynamitic thunders and forces ! Is New York
equipped for education and goodness ? Yes. It
has "a noble seminary called Columbia College
and a magnificent edifice called Federal Hall,
where the illustrious Washington took the oath !
It has a botanical garden. In time of peace it has
commerce ! In time of war it is insecure. It has
no marine force.

Philippi is recorded in the Gazetteer only as a
town in Macedonia. It is not said that Cassius
and Brutus met there at a cross-roads grocery to
drink the health of Augustus and Antony, before
Christ some forty-two years. Of China it is said
that it excels in kitchen-gardens and cultivates the
bottom of its rivers. It has trees on which is
raised tallow ! The Chinese complexion is a sort
of tawny ; and those who are thought to be most
handsome are the most bulky. The Chinamen
affect pomposity, but their houses are low. The
empire existed before Noah's flood. They drink
a liquor called ft rack." It is not added what kind
of a racket it makes when exported into such
unknown realms as Wyoming and California !
Is California gazetteered ? Yes. It is put down

CURIOUS CHANGES. 22*

as a peninsula. It is separated from the coast by
the Vermilion sea. Of this my friend the pub-
lisher and learned author, Bancroft, of San Fran-
cisco, will take heed. Galvez found a pearl fish-
ery in its gulf — I reckon — of Colorado. He
found mines of gold of a very promising appear-
ance. Most Californians use a girdle and a piece
of linen for clothing; but further north the Cali-
fornians use shells for ornament and live in caves.
Its chief town is St. Juan, which makes a wine like
Madeira.

Saratoga is a town and a fort. It is on the east
side of the Hudson. Not to be prolix, the
United States itself is summed up in this Gazet-
teer— as seventeen States. They are well sup-
plied with rivers, great and small, springs, and
lakes. In the large towns the houses are of
brick ; in the others and their environs, of planks ;
but eighty miles from the sea, in the Central and
Southern States, seven-tenths of the inhabitants
live in log houses. These houses are made of the
trunks of trees. They are from twenty to thirty
feet long and four or five inches in diameter.
They are laid upon one another and support their
ends into each other. The spaces between the
trunks are filled with clay. They have two doors,
which are hung with wooden hinges. These
doors frequently supply the place of windows.
Neither nails nor iron of anv sort are used.
15

226 THE PRINCES ISLES.

All this was long before the rivalry between Chi-
cago, Cincinnati, and St. Louis.

To one interested in our census since 1810 this
Gazetteer makes a picture of contrasts interesting
and economic.

" The chinkin' and daubin' " of even the log
cabins of the 1840 campaign seem, to one who has
passed through our civil war, as quite a rearward
object of domestic architecture.

Comparing this description with that of Con-
stantinople in the Gazetteer, how great the
changes ! These changes indicate civilizing ener-
gies even in the capital of Turkey. The descrip-
tion of Constantinople almost suits its present con-
dition ; but not quite. Its towers and walls — its
castles and multitudinous houses — are the same !
St. Sophia, with its room for 100,000 worshippers,
remains. The seraglio burned down some twenty
years ago. A railroad now runs around those old
walls, out of which the odalisqites of Abdul Mejid
peeped thirty years ago, when I first saw it. The
bazaars are the same. The Jewish and Armenian
traders are the same; but the "great number of
girls from Hungary, Greece, Circassia, and
Georgia, for the service of the Turks," have
greatly diminished. The ambassadors, now as
then, live on the Pera side of the Golden Horn ;
but the fifty thousand graceful caiques no longer
ply upon the Bosphorus for general transporta-

CHANGES IN STAMBOUL. ~~~

227

tion. The Shirket company runs steam ferries
up and down the straits, and the azure sky is
stained with their coal soot and smoke. A car,
run by an endless chain and by the vapor of water,
lifts the passenger from the shore at Galata to
the top of Pera heights. A street railway plies
its work and sounds its horn not only upon the
newly-widened streets of Pera, but even in the
narrow streets of Stamboul, upon whose travel or
travail there look out of the jalousies of the Mos-
lem the beauties of the haremlik !

Outside of the great city are the same treeless
hills and furrowed vales. Here and there they
are green and laughing with cultivation, and not
unspeckled with the splendid black and white
sheep and goats of the suburbs. As far as the
eye can see, the glorious panorama of mountain
and water, with the grand prospect of domes,
minarets, palaces, armories, arsenals, and barracks,
is spread out for the wondering and admiring
gaze. The old commanding situation for com-
merce and empire remains, and will ever remain.

The same Eastern imbroglio continues, from the
same old motives, from the same great and greedy
powers. Gradually the European elements are
encroaching upon Asiatic features and policy. It
may be that, before the new century dawns, the
dreams of Peter the Great will be realized ; or
else that the Greek — under some noble impulse,

228 THE PRINCES ISLES.

and from consenting and non-conflicting elements,
—may resume his worship in St. Sophia and his
control from the palace of Blachernae. It may
be that the capital of old Byzantium will become a
free port. All this is problematical, for the Turk
may remain under better conditions. Eastward
the star of empire may take its way, even though
it glimmer within the horns of the crescent.

But I was rummaging in my villa library among
the lost tribe of books of the old Missirie hostelry.
It is the same as ever — as in all libraries ; for all
libraries when analyzed have their chance compan-
ions. Here is a learned treatise by Lord Lindsay
on " Christian Art," with its symbolism and
mythology, written originally for " Sir Coutts Lind-
say, Baronet." It is said to have wings for the
artist to the gate of heaven ! Its uncut volumes
are as clean as the subject; never having been
other than idealized by the sacred quality of the
author's mind. Next to these volumes is Eugene
Sue's " Martin the Foundling." It has his por-
trait in the French toilet of 1847. The book is
illustrated by Shepherd. It shows the prevalent
taste in unchristian art and literature four decades
ago. Hallam next kisses George Eliot's "Gipsy."
Plans of fortifications for Crimean struggles lie
dormant, next to books on the peace of Christ—
which passeth all understanding — of their proxim-
ity. Hepworth Dixon bounds into the arena,

PL ORE NCR NIGHTINGALE AND SO YER. 2 2Q

along with a dozen books of highly-colored litho-
graphs showing the " Dawnings of Light in the
East ! " A score of volumes descriptive of all the
lands and peoples from Bagdad to Carthage, with
here and there love-tokens sent as bookmarks, and
flowers from Bethlehem, whose faint odors are all
too emblematic ! Mitford's full volumes on Greece
sit down with " Gentle Elia," Bulwer's " Rienzi,"
Tom Moore's " Lalla Rookh," Cicero, and " Eo-
then. " But who spreads the feast for these ana-
chronistic people? Who? Why, the very prince
of the cuisine himself. Soyer makes a " culinary
campaign," which he calls historical reminiscences
of the late war (Crimean), with the plain art of
cookery !

This culinary champion was a confederate of
Florence Nightingale in the campaign which she
made against the evils of war, in the hospitals of
Scutari. In this volume he dishes up many his-
torical delicacies. He makes up in succulence of
detail what he lacks in literary proficiency ! Per-
haps no one in that singular war achieved more
reputation than this great chief of the kitchen.
He was a practical man. When not organizing
his suite in the hospital kitchen for the disabled
and wounded soldier, he was purveying in a kind-
lier office. That his life was not entirely fruitless
of good, his volume fully demonstrates ; for after
his laborious campaign, in bidding adieu to his
readers, he says :

230

THE PRINCES ISLES.

" I do not intend to remain Soyer Tranquille,
but I hope to be the means of causing a lasting
amelioration in the cooking for all public institu-
tions. Such a result of my labors, after my long
culinary experience, ought to make an author
happy indeed, and I hope for the future to be
found as traced below." Here follows, as the curi-
ous finale of a useful and benevolent life, his own
picture, as he sits felicitously over a glass of Cha-
teau Yquem, in some celestial cuisine above the
stars !

All through this odd volume of Alexis Soyer
Miss Nightingale sings her quiet music of
humanity — so sweet amid the sensual palate pleas-
ures, that "we know not we are listening to it."

From all the ends of the earth and from all the
aeons of time come forth from Missirie's dusty
volumes these controversial, didactic, military,
theologic, descriptive, cuisinistic and classic folk
— dressed in garbs as various as those which make
the Stamboul bridge a perpetual kaleidoscope !
Here, in Misery's hotel — as some one has sung,
but whose music I cannot recall in verse — here the
rage of controversy ends ; zealots become friends,
Socinians abide with Calvinists, and those other
Calvinists or Kismetians of Mohammed meet
Catholic and Quaker and

" Bellemarine has rest at Luther's feet. "

ORIENT PEARLS. 2 1 1

I am forbidden by my wife and other powers to
write for publication on political and social themes
pertinent to this capital of diplomacy. Having,
however, the cacoethes equal to any Scotchman, I
must be writing something at odd moments. If I
cannot make literature of a higher grade, may I
not take glances at those who have been creators
of that order of work ?

It is difficult to find any " Orient pearls" not
already discovered and strung. And yet these
wonderful seas and waters ought to be gemmed at
bottom : but where one wo~uld find pearls he
only gets — sponges ! It takes away my breath
when I think of trying to write of some new thing
here. Or, to keep to the metaphor, as in the
pearl fisheries of the Red Sea, I am not unlike the
diver who does not often obtain the pearls, but,
reckless of sharks and death otherwise, he is con-
tent with filling his lungs for three minutes and
loading his feet with a stone, and, dropping his
ballast, to arise with one oyster, whose pearl is
not always equal to the effort and occasion.

Yet what a sea for pearls of thought — pearls of
great price — is this Mediterranean, which through
divers ways leads up to this capital of capitals !
The Mediterranean is called by the Turks the
White Sea. It is blue, but cheerful as the white
light of unclouded day. It is tideless, but what
tides has it not witnessed in the affairs of men

232

THE PRINCES ISLES.

—taken at the flood by some and at the ebb
by others ? It is the sea of historic movements
as well as of musical cadences. Troy, Carthage,
Byzantium, Athens, Rome, Alexandria - - ever
romantic and commercial, classic and barbaric !
Over its waters Crusaders came ; amid its isles
Venetian and Genoese sailed. Now upon its
bosom steamers of Russia, Austria, France and
England ply with ceaseless interchange. But an
American vessel with the star-spangled banner-
never.

" SOYKR TRES HEUREUX ! "

CHAPTER XV.

THE LIBRARY UNDER NEW ASPECTS.

Again the precept of Shakespeare is heard :
" Remember to possess his books."

Without them, Prospero had not one spirit to
command ! When I made the lease of this villa
there came into our possession all the lore of the
Cambridge scholar, much of which was all Greek
to me, especially the modern Greek. It was my
custom in the morning, when .the air was cool and
fresh, to promenade, book in hand, up to the half-
way seat on the mountain side. > Here I could
read undisturbed. Here, I re-read Homer, not
merely in English, but in the original, with much
marking and remarking between the lids of my
scholarly landlord's copy.

The confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau were
found in this library, lying close to some religious
Armenian literature. I perused them for the first
time under these skies, — where Rousseau's father
used to live and work too, as watchmaker to His
Majesty, the Sultan! How strangely this senti-

233

THE PRINCES ISLES.

mental yet gross Franco-Swiss philosopher, with
his love of nature and nastiness, — his amours and
his amiableness — impresses one ! His style is so
lucent and his artlessness so absolute, that one
need not wonder that his social theories, arrayed
in alluring garb, caught the fancy and enthralled
the emotions of his time.

By adding some of my own favorite volumes to
these bookish anchorites of our villa, I have read-
ing enough. I can accomplish more than Home
Tooke did when he was in prison ; for not only
have I the " Diversions of Purley" in studying
radically many tongues, but I can delve literally
into the old earth herself, with Rousseau, in search
of medicinal roots, to gratify my botanic fancies.

Besides having the launch and the free sea,
the flag and " interterritoriality," I am as un-
hampered as the botanizing bee or butterfly in our
garden, that flies from flower to flower at its own
sweet will. But this freedom of motion is not the
idea of a hermitage.

One of the precious little diamonds in literature,
which was presented to me by a D.D., — whom we
call the " Dreadful Dragoman," is that of P. Gyllii,
on the " Topographia of Constantinople." Its
frontispiece has the imprimatur and flavor of
Munich. It was printed in 1632. It is two hun-
dred and fifty years old. Two angels in the
frontispiece draw up two curtains between classic

DIVERSIONS IN THE LIBRAR Y.

columns, in order to display the old city with its
mosques and khans. Beneath is* a picture of the
Seraglio Point. The houses were far apart then,
and the foliage abundant. The same kind of
boats float on the current as those of the present
day. It is a picture of the city under the Sultans
in its primal splendor.

I must not omit a glance into an unpretending
volume by Edward Bulwer-Lytton, which illus-
trates the institutions of ancient Athens. If it be
not accurately historic, it is provocative of the
study of Mitford, whose nine volumes have each a
significant picture, a rich text and learned notes.
Bulwer not only illustrates the matchless genius
and glory of Greece, but the interesting struggles
which her states carried on in these colonial
waters, upon whose bosom to-day ride steamers
which the classic Greek with all his fleet Mercuries
and potential Neptunes never imagined. Some of
his chapters and scenes take me to the very boun-
daries of Bulgaria, where a Battenberg prince
now keeps the Balkans in perpetual turmoil. I
confess to a prejudice against Hessians, which
these summer studies from this library have
strengthened : but I must not confound Prince
Alexander of Hesse Darmstadt with that venal
scoundrel of Hesse Cassel, who sold his subjects
to King George III. of England, to destroy the
colonies of America.

236 THE PRINCES ISLES.

From the perusal of these histories of human
degeneracy, how happy to find the works of the
" Gentle Elia." They bring back the remem-
brances of summer days, like those we pass here ;
and of delightful years, before diplomacy required
reserve. His words " Spoken at the Mermaid!"
and his sonnets of sweetness and quaint conceits
give a vivacity which no carking care about
Harpoot schools or Bulgarian atrocities can ever
dispel from our diplomatic mind.

Here, too, is found hidden between Greek and
Armenian tomes, Longworth's " Year Among the
Circassians." It was published in 1840. It has
some old lithographs of the interiors of Circassian
homes. These are rude huts. Few articles of
necessity and none of luxury are shown in the pict-
ure. Here is a man with a turban. He wears a
black beard and a blouse. On his breast are
a score of cartridges arrayed tastefully. He
sports light stockings and the usual pointed
shoes. A saddle and gun, a curved sword
and a blanket, with an ottoman sofa or so, for re-
clining at meals, or for rest, make up the furni-
ture. A fire of faggots is at one end of the hut.
There a tea kettle is boiling. A graceful girl, in
a pretty bodice of dark material, a skirt of light
color, and a tasteful unique head-dress is the cen-
tral female figure. A sheep at the door, and a
brace of dogs near by, are the accompaniments.

CIRCASSIAN HOMES.

The household is serving a Persian, Turkish or
Jewish visitor with meats and cups of refresh-
ment. The hospitality is unbounded. This is
the scene, nearly a half century ago, before
Schamyl was conquered and the Russian had tri-
umphed over native valor and mountain fastness.

But the Turk had long before then conquered,
by his gold and other agents, the beauties of these
mountain homes, for his harems. Buying and
selling slaves for wives was then a legal matter.
The mountain beauties liked to be sold out of
their rude modes of living into the luxurious
ease of the grand capital. Any stranger who
interfered with the affair of the hadji, or
merchant, was left to the cold sympathies of
those most nearly interested. The father, or
husband, not only often acquiesced in the trans-
action, but it was not considered disreputable for
an ouzden, or a freeman in good circumstances, to
sell his own children. The advantages of a
settlement in a good harem in Turkey, was the
animus of this business which has given most of
the women and mothers to the Turkish harems.
Besides, these females received a pretty good edu-
cation in Turkey, including religious teaching.
Their condition was bettered. Marriage in Tur-
key, as I show in another chapter, is comparative
freedom. It was not freedom they wanted, but
ease and slippered luxury. Fancy gilded their

THE PRINCES ISLES.

future. They used to bring a higher price if they
were something beyond a tobacco-smoking hanoum.
Housewifery enhanced their price. Sometimes
the best and prettiest were placed in establish-
ments, where, under matronly care, they learned
to read and write, acquired some Arabic and Per-
sian literature, and were taught how to deport
themselves gracefully and graciously. It mat-
tered not if they were property, when, after they
could display their graces of mind and body, they
could rise to independence. They could be thus
weaned from the dependence which made them
submissive to the haughtier sex even in their own
Circassian household. When ushered into a more
entrancing sphere, let us not. be surprised at
seeing in these women of the Circassian moun-
tains those gentle qualities, controlling the hardier
sex, which form the most attractive features
of the Turkish woman, with her languishing
eye and splendid figure. The very Spartan
vigor and fierceness of the Circassian man, which
forbade him to see his wife except stealthily, while
it destroyed much of his affectionate nature,
gave to the female under such discipline and
reserve a constrained and modest demeanor,
which is a most seductive part of her loveliness.
After many generations, and with the delights and
comforts of her new home and the bath, she obtains
a complete mastery over herself, and her Turkish

GE OR GIAN BE A UTIES. 230

husband and lord. That mastery extends to her
children. This makes her a provoking conun-
drum to the Frank, and a fascinating dream to all
who behold her.

The Georgian has a beauty quite different from
that of the Circassian. The Circassian is daz-
zling, queenlike and stately. She has a fair skin.
She is elegant in form. She is kindly and gentle in
voice, but lazy in movement and without esprit.
One of her own sex has said: " there is no soul in a
Circassian beauty; and as she pillows her pure, pale
cheek upon her small dimpled hand, you feel no
inclination to arouse her into exertion ; you are
contented to look upon her and to contemplate
her loveliness." The Georgian is a creature with
eyes like meteors, and teeth almost as dazzling as
her eyes. Her mouth does not wear the sweet
and unceasing smile of her less vivacious rival ;
but the proud expression that sits upon her finely
arched lips accords so well with her stately form
and lofty brow that you do not seek to change its
character.

I have an impression that the Georgian is
quite a dominant element in Turkey through the
mother. We lose sight of this in our confused
estimates of the Orient and its domestic influences.

Ever since the i8th of September, 1885, the
"ant-hill" of Pera, where the diplomatic people
winter, and the palaces of Bayukdere and Thera-

240 THE PRINCES ISLES.

pia, where they summer, have been in incessant
moil and toil over the perpetual question of the
East. Many of the books which I found at Mis-
serie's old Hotel d'Angleterre, and which I was
allowed to import to Prinkipo, were on this subject.
They were not diverting ; and yet they were full
of eventualities which never happened, and of
prophesies of new phases in which fresh delimita-
tions of frontier and changes of dynasties came
and went in mosaic confusion. They show the
futility of a priori reasoning. They were big
with the fate of empires and of men, but other-
wise little. One prospect appears all through
this class of literature. It is a " Dawning in the
East " which has never yet dawned. And yet
where else should there be dawn ? I open a vol-
ume with this phrase as a title. It was written
at Bagdad in 1853. Was that locality too far
East to enjoy a dawn ? This writer indulged in
roseate hopes for the Jews in Persia, Kurdistan
and Chaldea ; but the past thirty years have not
verified his optimistic predictions, either as to Jew
or Gentile. The Euphrates still runs down, the
tents of the Bedouin are still on its banks and the
projected railroad of the .valley is still a dream of
the engineer.

But the missionaries continue their work ; and,
although surrounded by Bedouins, we have the
same good report every day of advancement in

PROGNOSTICATIONS. 24!

teaching the native as to his life and letters, and
the prevalence of brigandage by Circassian vil-
lains.

My view of Turkey is more hopeful. From the
Robert College, if permitted to continue its work,
may come the redemption of the time and of Asia
Minor, Syria and the Balkans. Princes may come
and princes may go into these struggling lands,
but at last the potent secret will be revealed, and
the light of America will illume the forlorn peasant
homes of these historic and much-vexed lands.

What next ? A weather-stained volume called
" Turkey and its Resources," by Urquart, pub-
lished in 1853. The author is more economic
than prophetic. He had inklings that the adhe-
sion of the various parts of Turkey were soon to be
a thing of the past ; and yet he was surprised that
Turkey still was languishing and lingering. He
finds the secret of this cohesion of empire in muni-
cipal organization. This was not an accident, in
his opinion, but an organic principle of Arabic
legislation. The free states of Greece were the
models, in fact the origin, of this Home Rule, which
binds the tribes of the East in some sort of unity.
One of the strange things which this author dis-
cerned and which the Turks could not understand
was : How can a free land tax commerce and sur-
vive. This problem is commended to my own
countrymen for solution.

THE PRINCES ISLES.

One volume, in gilt attire like a pasha at Bairam,
fairly leaps out of its shelf to greet my eye with
its large and elegant typography and its interest-
ing contents. It is the fifteenth edition of Sir
Edward Creasy's " Fifteen Decisive Battles of the
World, from Marathon to Waterloo." Upon the
fly-leaf I find the name of my landlord, with the
script : " First in classics, Xmas '66. L. F. B." and
on the cover, in grand style, two phoenixes, not
one only as it is fabled, and over them " RUGBY
SCHOOL." If the date were only contemporaneous
with " Tom Brown," or Dr. Arnold, there would
be added another employment for analogy.

On the occasion of urging upon Congress the
erection of the Saratoga monument, I had said
that Saratoga was one of the pivotal battles of
the world. I find Saratoga in this volume. It is
headed by Bishop Berkeley's poetic " Star of
Empire," and Lord Mahon's pregnant words :
<4that the surrender of the thirty-five hundred
fighting men at Saratoga, had been so fruitful of
results, that it not only changed the relations of
mankind and the feelings of England toward the
American colonies, but it modified for all time to
come the connection between every colony and
every parent state." Mentally, I made the com-
ment which the recent excitement about Ireland
suggested. What eventful connections have since
grown out of the insurgence of the thirteen col-

ENGLISH POWER.

onies toward the vast colonial dependency of
Great Britain !

Hanging on the wall in this suggestive library
is a chart of the power of Great Britain. Every
continent is represented. Her immense dominion
is typified by various races pictured on the chart.
Along with it, as the commentary, come to my
mind the stirring words of Gladstone, as I heard
them uttered at the Robert American College
commencement in July, by a Celtic boy with a
Bulgarian brogue, who recited the conclusion of
the great oration on behalf of a statutory Parlia-
ment and Home Rule for Ireland ! A pardonable
patriotic pride in the college, and in the doctrine
and in the contest at Saratoga, and even in the
testy Englishman, General Gates, — whom I never
could admire, — begat much toleration even toward
the traitor, Benedict Arnold. For had he not, in
disregard of orders, given his splendid personal
courage to that pivotal battle, whose results the
reluctant step-parent was all too slow to recognize,
but which the world has not failed to honor ?

It is one of the " Pleasures of Prinkipo" that in
this library, and from Lord Byron's poetry and
Michel de Montaigne's essays, I have taken fresh
quaffs of nectared delight. Byron's fine appre-
ciation of the East and Montaigne's scholar-
ship, frankness and genius have filled up many
golden hours and sped them with flying feet.

244

THE PRINCES ISLES.

Byron, more than any other poet, not excepting
Lamartine, has disentangled the sensuous pleas-
ure and historic appreciation of the Orient, and
woven the many-tinted threads into robes of im-
purpled texture. If his " Bride of Abydos " is
silly, as a tale, its scenes of domestic seclusion,
and its gorgeous pictures of water, sky and earth,
diamonds, stars and flowers, never fail to be
quoted by the young who repair hither to fill their
golden urns of imagery, and by the old, who
renew here their early dreams of luxuriant life.

As a foil and contrast to this literature of the
Orient, I happen upon a half-covered volume of
Frankenstein. It was penned fifty years and more
ago, when this sombre literature enthralled the
literary world. But where now is the weird mon-
ster of Mary Shelley's prolific imagination ? And
yet, in this day of marvels in physical science, the
creation of a human frame by human skill, and
endowing it with the principle of life, may not
seem as bold as it did in 1831. But as a figment
of the brain, it is, as the author urges, of the same
type as the " Iliad," the " Tempest," and " Paradise
Lost." Its first scene is laid in the region of the
frozen North ; but its bewildering magic emanates
from the Orient. What Paracelsus and Albertus
Magnus taught, are they not prefigured in the
monstrous beings of the " Thousand and One
Nights ? " The idea of constructing a being of gi-

THE MAGICIANS OF THE EAST. 245

gantic mould and infusing into it the vital spark,
together with the terrible Nemesis of the story, is
of the Orient, all complete. Beside, is not the
Orient the home of the Magi ? Have not the
fire worshippers made its sacred fires perennial
and poetical ? Even at this day, the naphtha of
Baku has its religious associations, to which the
muse of Moore gave melody. How small the
world of fact and fancy is ! How near akin are
the delusions of the past to the science of the
present ! Aye, even in these library shelves of
Prinkipo, I gaze with awe, not unmixed with
wonder, upon two books bound in bloody red,
which connect my daily diplomatic duty with the
poetry of the past and the rites of the Parsee.
The next chapter will elucidate the relation.

It would fill a volume were I to recount
the rich variety of the thesaurus of the library
which came to us with our villa. Here on one
shelf is Sir John Lubbock's " Origin of Civiliza-
tion " and " Primeval Man." In strange juxtapo-
sition I find the complete works of Moliere. On
opening the latter I find this commendation by his
editor: "Deux species sont passes, dit avec raison
M. Bagou, et nous at tendons encore" Moliere's
genius of comedy has had more than his
two centuries, but wherever the keen French
wit predominates, as it does in the Orient, his
works are perused with much riant enthusiasm.

246 THE PRINCES ISLES.

Alongside of Herschel's " Physical Geography,"
with its revelations of our earth and seas, lands
and minerals, snows and rain falls, caloric and
magnetism, I find a strange volume whose title is
"Inquire Within Upon Everything." On inquir-
ing, I find an interesting discussion which vindi-
cates the letter H in the English vocabulary, or
rather its omission, as being a correct mode of
speech. In fact, this book answers all queries—
from the killing of vermin to the style of a frock;
from the selection of a dining-table to the carving
of a turkey or the decoration of a room.

Here in one corner of the library I find,
"Boner Hunting Chamois in the Alps;" in
another place, " A Golden Treasury of Lyrics."
"Zadkiel's Astrology" astonishes, by its prox-
imity to " The Chemistry of Common Life."
Macaulay and the " Waverley Novels" are
snugly hid along with Thucydides and Plutarch.
Paley shakes hands with our own Maury, and
" Henry Esmond" with Homer, ^Eschines and the
whole cohort of Greeks. Here is Carey's Gradus !
It takes us up the heights of Olympus. But is
there anything in the library pertinent to my own
life in the East ? Yes : " Chesterfield's Letters to
his Son." I open it at page 301. It gives me ad-
vice for a most pressing emergency at the Porte.
"Why is it," it asks, "that negotiators have
always been the politest and best bred men in the

CHESTERFIELD 'S AD VICE FOLLO WED.

world in company?" Ahem! Then he proceeds
to say :

" For God's sake, never lose view of these two,
your capital objects : bend everything to them, try
everything by their rules, and calculate everything
for their purposes. What is peculiar to these two
objects is, that they require nothing but what
one's own vanity, interest and pleasure would
make one do independently of them. If a man
were never to be in business, and always to lead a
private life, would he not desire to please and to
persuade ? S.o that in your two destinations your
fortune and figure luckily conspire with your van-
ity and your pleasures. Nay more ; a foreign
minister, I will maintain it, can never be a good
man of business if he is not an .agreeable man of
pleasure too. Half his business is done by the
help of his pleasures ; his views are carried on,
and perhaps best, and most unsuspectedly, at
balls, suppers, assemblies, and parties of pleasure ;
by intrigues with women, and connections insensi-
bly formed with men, at those unguarded hours of
amusement.

" These objects now draw very near you, and you
have no time to lose in preparing yourself to meet
them. You will be in Parliament almost as soon
as your age will allow, and I believe you will have
a foreign department still sooner, and that will be
earlier than ever anybody had one."

248 THE PRINCES ISLES.

With one or two exceptions, which I will not
notice, I have endeavored to practice, and not
without some success, these Chesterfieldian pre-
cepts. In fact, it was in pursuance of their sug-
gestions that I was enabled to accomplish what
the President was pleased to commend in his last
Message, in behalf of American interests at the
Porte. It was because of this accomplishment-
thanks to Lord Chesterfield — that I concluded to
return home, after diplomacy did not, and as my
new service does not, require so many and such
peculiar sacrifices to the graces.

CHAPTER XVI.

INFERNAL FIRE AND LALLA ROOKH DIPLOMACY

THE ROMANCE AND POETRY OF PETROLEUM.

I CAME to take an interest in the matters indi-
cated by the head of this chapter because my
official duty required me to examine into certain
petroleum frauds on our trade in the classic isle of
Mitylene. This interest was spurred by some
happy coincidences, partly literary and partly
.social. Thus it happened to " concatenate ac-
cordingly."

Twenty-six years ago I wandered into a store
near my law office in Cincinnati, Ohio. It was
kept by the Messrs. James. I opened an exquisite
edition of Thomas Moore's " Lalla Rookh." That
book, the dandyism of all literary Orientalism, was
en toilette in gold and ruby — ruby predominant.
I read the dedication to Samuel Rogers. When
I opened the same volume, the other day, in
my library in Prinkipo, the " Pleasures of Mem-
ory " returned. I recalled, by a system of mne-
monics, my Cincinnati experience as a young
lawyer — or, rather, as an inchoate lawyer, then
studying how Law limped after Justice in vain ;

249

THE PRINCES ISLES.

for I am not aware that in the three decades
or more since, Law has overtaken her healthier
sister. Many a time since I have seen Law stum-
ble, just as she was about to join hands with Jus-
tice and assist the latter to bear the scales aloft.

Eheu ! Posthume ! How the years have glided
away since that morning of my life, when " Lalla
Rookh " was one of the sources of my inspiration,
and before petroleum had lighted my student's
lamp in this Eastern capital.

During one of the damp, foggy, gloomy days of
the past winter, a stranger from New York was
announced. I hastened to the reception room,
and while awaiting him I picked up, by way of
passing the time, that very volume of " Lalla
Rookh." It has followed the author around this
planet and gives much comfort by its sensuous
imagery and impearled ideas. But on this oc-
casion this beauteous work was all aglow with its
ruby and gold. It lay next to a terrific volume
called the " Region of Eternal Fire," dressed like
Mephisto himself, and sporting gold-leaf all over
its diabolic cover. It was Marvin's account of a
journey to the petroleum regions of the Caspian
in 1883. The book, its cover, and contents de-
served the sinister title.

But what has the Nourmahal to do with these
subterranean deviltries ? This much : That the
place in " Lalla Rookh " upon which I happened

ARMENIA

, PERSIA

/** TEHERAN

THE REGION OF FIRE AND PETROLEUM.

MOORE'S FIRE WORSHIPPERS. 2$l

in my momentary vagary gives a description of

Ivan's outlawed men — the worshippers of fire ! It

locates them near Yezd's eternal mansion of
caloric—

" Where aged saints in dreams of heaven expire ;
From Baku, and those fountains of blue flame
That burn into the Caspian."

To this verse there is an annotation which in-
dicates the historic facts to which Marvin alludes
in his practical observations — viz., that about
Baku, from early times, the sun and fire worship-
pers abided and that they kept illuminated the fires
with vestal vigilance for 3000 years on a sacred
mountain near Yezd, called Ater Quedah. He
was reckoned unfortunate who died away from
that mountain. Another note to Moore's verse
says : " When the weather is hazy on the Caspian
shore the springs of naphtha on an island near
Baku boil up higher, and the naphtha often takes
fire on the surface of the earth and runs in a
flame into the sea, to a distance almost incred-
ible."

This edition of " Lalla Rookh" was of 1849, and
the notes were by the author as early as 1817 ; so
that Baku, now so famous, and to Americans so
troublesome and interesting as a competitor, is
not a new place as a fiery resort or as a theme for
literary exercise.

252

THE PRINCES ISLES.

The odd coincidence of the proximity of these
volumes on my table, and the other fact that I
opened the poetic volume by chance upon the
verse and notes quoted, gave rise to a new marvel.
It was this : My visitor was an agent of the Amer-
ican Standard Oil Company ! He was en route to
Baku ! He was about to sound the depths, vol-
ume, and values of these remarkable wells ! This
visitor was the shrewdest man I met in the East.
He was looking after his business and the new
light of Asia with a watchful eye on Baku. He
intended to go there. He did go. He returned
and reported. He did not say much. He was
writing it all up for his employers. I propose to
do a little of this for my readers, since it combines
the utilities of light and life with the elegance of
poetry.

To do this I must draw upon Marvin's " Eter-
nal Fire." Marvin is not a slow, infrequent, or
unknown wrriter. He is voluminous. He was the
correspondent of the London Morning Post on
many a well fought journalistic field. He it was
who wrote the " Russians at Merv and Herat,"
" The Russian Advance Toward India," " Merv,
the Queen of the World," " Reconnoitring Cen-
tral Asia," etc. He captured the Caspian, if ever
man did, by way of penetrating its physical and
political secrets.

Mr. Marvin's new Inferno is the result of

BAKU ENTERPRISE IN OIL.

much research, for he has exhausted the literature
of petroleum as well as its physical phenomena.
That literature is by no means limited to " Lalla
Rookh." Names that give one the lockjaw to
pronounce, such as Gulishambamp, Markooriskopf,
Ogloblin, Mendeleiff, Gospodin, Polelika, and
others have given to the petroleum industry of
Baku and of Russia much chronicle and many
statistics. Yet Mr. Marvin's book seems to have
rather a tendency toward a high appraisement of
the Messrs. Nobel and their great genius for engi-
neering, and properties in oil. I could not rise
from its perusal without that impression.

The engravings in the book of the Nobel works
are interesting, but I should say that Nobel drew
something in favor of Marvin for them. But are
not these enterprising Swedi'sh men worthy of all
that is said and pictured ? The brothers Nobel
have dabbled in dynamite and triumphed in tor-
pedoes ; but their enterprise at Baku in laying
down the first pipe-line and by replacing barrels
with cistern steamers — in fact, by organizing an
oil fleet and making communication over the shal-
lows of the Volga by tank-cars, with depots over
Russia, and soon to be extended elsewhere — is a
romance worthy of celebration by pen and pencil,
a romance greater than that of which Tom Moore
sings. How the Nobel business is carried on, all
for cash, — how the brothers have passed crises in

2^4 THE PRINCES ISLES.

the financial world, — how they have harnessed the
Russian government to their petroleum-car, — how
their business has become nearly a monopoly by
reason of their peculiar mechanical skill and ap-
pliances,— is it not written by Marvin in a most fas-
cinating manner ? Whether you consider the ma-
terial wonder described by Major-General Gold-
sword in 1870, when he saw natural petroleum gas
fires which had been flaring more than 2 500 years ;
or whether igniting in the furnaces of a hundred
steamers on the Caspian and Volga ; or the enor-
mous subterranean reservoirs which science here
locates ; or the great ridge beneath the Caspian,
from shore to shore and beneath the Caucasus,
from sea to sea ; whether this useful element be
found beneath the barren steppes or under the
mountain chains, or whether it rises in columns
like the geysers of Iceland or the Yellowstone ;
whether, as at Findlay, Ohio, or at Allegheny
City, Pennsylvania, it is made to move machinery
and illuminate great workshops ; whether its
streams come forth in iridescent beauty — the iris
out of whose black unfragrance comes the pig-
ments for the painting of my lady's robe or her
maid's frock ; whether it exudes from the sodden
soil or is used for watering the dusty streets of
Baku ; or whether it weaves by locomotion and
the swift-flying shuttle of interchange a new civil-
ization,— it is at once a theme for the muse of

THE PARSEES.

Moore and the speculations of the bourse. If it
be true, as is alleged, that a single man pricked
the earth near Baku and wasted 50,000,000 or
100,000,000 gallons of good oil — enough to supply
and light London for years — then poetry has lost
its license, and should turn over its office to a
tenth muse, which I christen the " Muse of
Mechanism," to sing in oily numbers these natural
glories and humanities of the earth.

Outside of the mercenary view of this burning
question, it may be stated that the Parsee still
lives ; but fuel to feed his sacred fire is now an
expensive item. Yet it must be supplied when-
ever a new temple is dedicated. Sixteen different
kinds of wood, in one thousand and one pieces of
fuel, are required to obtain the sacred flame. This
is afterwards fed with sandal-wood, and the cost
of the process averages $7500. There are still
three large and thirty-three small fire-temples at
Bombay ! They are by no means inexpensive.

The fire worshipper is no longer paramount in
Persia. Zoroaster no longer teaches his peculiar
doctrine. Nine-tenths of the Persians are Ma-
hometans. There has been a perpetual perse-
cution of those who remain faithful to the fiery
tenets of their forefathers. For twelve hundred
and fifty years the Guebres (the name from
which the Gaiour, or infidel, is taken) have sur-
vived. They pay their devotion to the life-giving

THE PRINCES ISLES.

principle of the sun. They do not worship the sun.
They worship God, its creator ; the Being who
is supreme over fire and light. The Guebres are
an honest race. They are of the pure Persian
stock, when Persia was of some account in the
conduct and history of the world. Most of the
Parsees reside in India. Their homes are in
Bombay and in Calcutta. Out of the hundred
thousand who survive, only about seven thousand
are left in Persia. Their worship is singularly
beautiful, symbolical, and not at all unworthy of
the great demonstration which nature makes in
and around Baku. It is by no means unworthy
of the auroral splendors of the dawn when its most
prominent observances hail the coming day !
That people which does not enjoy light and fails
to illumine, wherever and whenever nature makes
provision, are the laggards in the human race.
The fire worshippers love the light and their ways
are not evil !

Sometimes these fountains of naphtha create a
volcano whose sudden outbursts quite swamp the
little buildings around. It is not a volcano of fire
so much as of hot mud. Some time ago there
was an explosion about ten miles from Baku, and
a column of fire shot up three hundred and fifty
feet high. The country was illuminated. The heat
was perceptible miles away. Little damage was
done, for there was no wind, The volume of

KEROSENE AS A C2VILIZER. 257

muddy liquid thrown up was estimated in Russian,
which I cannot interpret, except by the vague
data that it spread itself over more than a square
mile, and to a depth of from seven to fourteen
feet!

David A. Wells, in his new book called " A
Study of Mexico," regards the kerosene lamp as
one of the motors of civilization in Mexico, only
next after the railroad. In urging the reciprocity
treaty with America he indicates how a bright,
new, little kerosene lamp became to him the most
remarkable and interesting object of importation
from the United States to that country. It was
to him " remarkable and interesting, because
neither the man nor his father, possibly since the
world to them began, had ever before known any-
thing better than a blazing brand as a method for
illumination at night, and had never had either
the knowledge, the desire, or the means of obtain-
ing anything superior. But at last," says Mr.
Wells, " through contact with and employment
on the American railroad, the desire, the op-
portunity, the means to purchase, and the knowl-
edge of the simple mechanism of the lamp, had
come to this humble, isolated Mexican peasant ;
and out of the germ of progress thus spontane-
ously, as it were, developed by the wayside, may
come influences more potent for civilization and
the elevation of humanity in Mexico than all that
17

258 THE PRINCES ISLES.

church and state have been able to effect within
the last three centuries."

The same may be said, with even more empha-
sis, about our petroleum interests in Turkey. The
petroleum can and lamp play a double purpose ;
the one as a tin bucket and the other as a vessel
for the fluid which gives so much comfort to
the dark places of the East. It supplies, in fact,
the lamp of Aladdin, from whose friction sprang
rare and wonderful opulence.

It is generally supposed that Job was a rich
man. Perhaps many of his boils and broils came
out of the fact that he was an opulent liver. Con-
sidering the land of Uz as we now find it, one
would suppose there wras very little wealth in it.
We have not a very clear idea of it. Job must
have worked several gangs of slaves on fruitful
ground in the desert. He had some connection
with the petroleum industry of the Euphrates,
although it has never been thoroughly acknowl-
edged. Job acquired his large fortune from the
uncertain element of the petroleum wells. Some-
times they gave him abundance ; at other times,
like the wells around Pittsburgh, they gave him
nothing. There can be little doubt that when his
wells caught fire, it spread fire on the prairie, and
not only destroyed houses, and flocks, and children,
but reduced Job to a considerable amount of pro-
fanity and scalding sores. Whatever may be said,

ASP HAL TUM MARE. 2$Q

however, about this remarkable man, it is very
certain that before his time — many years before
his time — the Dead Sea, the Asphaltum Mare,
was the result of a vast eruption of which oil
was the principal ingredient. Its surface is below
other sea levels. The earth's crust must have
been rather thin there, so easily was it ruptured.
Otherwise the five cities of the plain might to-day
be rivals of Chicago or Birmingham. The Dead
Sea is very salty. In boring for petroleum saline
springs are often tapped. But for the tap in the
crust, when Lot fled from Sodom, Jordan might
not have been deflected from its course, and
Canaan might still have been a land for the
sacred lyric muse beyond all the music of the
Methodist or the rhapsodyof the Russian devotee.
There is no doubt that petroleum bubbles up to
the surface of the Dead Sea and that the sun's
rays solidify it. This is asphaltum — the purest
bitumen. It is known in Egypt as the element by
which the mummies were made up for immor-
talization. Herodotus (I seldom quote him with-
out thinking of his title as " the father of liars ")
has made several remarks about petroleum. I
will not quote, for fear I may be challenged to
the proof. I turn to Plutarch, who had a sense
of veracity. He confirms Herodotus and we will
take Herodotus into our confidence for this
occasion only. Plutarch describes certain re-

26o THE PRIKCES ISLES.

markable phenomena in which fire is an element.
In fact, the oil to which he calls attention was
burned in the ancient lamp. It was known
to the Romans as Sicilian oil. From Persia
to Italy, from Hafis to Horace, the lamp
which gave its sweetness to love and its glory to
the Augustine age was fed from the burning
spring of the Orient — the same wonderful phe-
nomena of which Zoroaster was the prophet, and
the Parsees the devotees.

It is not my purpose to make a disquisition
upon petroleum. The genius of man is penetrat-
ing the crust of the earth in its every part ; and
from the shores of the Caspian to China and
Japan, from Formosa to the Punjab, aye even out
of the lost Atlantis, in the Bermudas, the Canadas
and Pennsylvania, this element of fire leaps to
the surface at the touch of the diviner's wand.

It is, however, to the United States that this
industry owes its highest refinement and per-
fection of distribution. The carrying of oil from
the springs to the refineries in pipes, over thou-
sands of miles and from hundreds of reservoirs ;
the genius by which through chemistry this oil
is purified ; the immense Standard Oil Company,
with its capital of twenty odd millions ; our ex-
ports, which from New York alone are over forty
millons of barrels, nearly all refined, — call up an
image of prosperity in an olden trade.

IS PE TROLE UM A SAFE MO TOR ? 26 1

One drawback to the use of petroleum has been
recently developed. It is very doubtful, judging
by the terrible explosion recently on the " Petri-
ana," one of the tank steamers, whether or not it is
possible to work the petroleum vessel. The crew
having taken naked lights into a tank-room which
had been somewhat strained in a gale, the gas was
fired. Great loss of life ensued, and the inference
is that if petroleum is ever used for fuel in loco-
motives and ships, there will be plenty of accidents
after this pattern. This trouble is likely to be ob-
viated.

Whether you consider this petroleum develop-
ment in the nebulous glimmer of ancient and
religious history, or in the blaze of modern science
applied to labor-saving machinery, is it not marvel-
lous ? Whether it make out of the Caspian a
grand commerce and revolutionize and perhaps
rescue people who have, like the Armenians, lost
their nationality and home, this marvel may
again be, as it was to ancient Greek and Roman
navigators, a Pharos arresting attention and giv-*
ing safety to the almost despairing barks of human
hope and happiness. Is it therefore wonderful
that the ancient world, seeking a religion with
mysterious rites, should find in this awful and
unknown element of eternal fire its sacred
symbol and worship ? The Greek had his Vul-
can, or Hephaestus ; but the Persian, with like

262 THE PRINCES ISLES.

aspiration, made fire not merely the emblem
of the divine intelligence, but of God himself !
The Jews connected fire with Jehovah. The
burning bush revealed their God. A sacred flame
burned unceasingly in the temple. When, there-
fore, from the soil or from the fissures of the lime-
stone of Baku the gas issued, it became a light
through the labyrinths of devotion into the un-
seen world.

When Moses was a child, a thousand years be-
fore Christ, the disciples of Zoroaster made pil-
grimages to Baku. Its sacred soil was known to
the Saracens as early as A.D. 600. The Parsees
here worshipped until the conquering iconoclastic
Moslem, with his one ineffable, invisible Allah,
destroyed the temples of fire and the illusions of
the Magi. As late as the twelfth century pilgrim-
ages of the fire worshippers were permitted under
Persian conduct. Since that time we have ac-
counts of this strange fire, and its utilities in giv-
ing light, in slacking lime and in cooking victuals.

Petroleum is the " Seneca oil " of our own In-
dians. They used it for medical purposes. " The
Russians drink it," says a writer, ''as a cordial!"
What will not a Russian drink, regardless of odor
or vigor? It was good for "sore heads;" for
scorbutic pains, gout, and cramps. It was early
an article of commerce. It had its factories. But
never until lately, except perhaps in some of the

PETROLEUM— A FACTOR OF PROGRESS.

263

lost arts, has it been used as a motor of machinery
and a factor of progress. While it has flamed
about Baku, empires have risen, ripened, and rot-
ted.

CHAPTER XVII.

JAUNT TO THE PALACE OF BEYLERBEY ITS ASSOCI-
ATIONS, MENAGERIE AND TIGER RULES

FOR A TIGER-HUNT.

THERE is one portion of the Bosphorus on the
Asiatic side, known as Kandilli. The whole har-
bor of Constantinople is in full view from this
point. From time immemorial it has been called
the place "gifted with lanterns." Just below it,
is the modern Turkish village of Beylerbey.
From one village of Turkey and its quiet life you
may learn of all. Here are the houses and cot-
tages, the little mosque, the bay- trees, and the
cemetery. Yonder is the good Imaum, the Han-
oum to be respected, and the Pasha in all his dig-
nity. There is the country bumpkin at his
marriage, too bashful to venture through the
midst of the young girls of the village to fetch
away his bride according to the usual custom.
Sometimes, but rarely, you see a sottish son or
wild daughter who furnishes the topic of multitu-
dinous gossip for the many mothers-in-law. That
street Arab is eating simits — the ring-shaped
bread with sesame seed upon its shining surface.

264

A ROYAL PERSONAGE. 2fa

Here, in short, are all the ups and downs of hum-
ble fortune ; but among them all is preserved the
beautiful Oriental custom of taking home to the
family the evening presents.

I have a special memory of Beylerbey, not so
much, indeed, of its charming environments, as of
a brief interview I once had there with a royal
personage. He was the last of an ancient line — a
prisoner of state ; alas ! confined by the decree of
the Sultan within the appanage of the palace
demesne. What his offence or treason was I never
sought to know. It makes me sad to think of
him. It is not safe to become too familiar with
such victims of Oriental despotism. I saw him
but a few brief moments. I looked upon him ;—
and for this indiscreet curiosity alone I — yes I,
the Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipoten-
tiary of the United States of America, came near
forfeiting my existence. I had to run for my life
—to fly to my little launch, which was the only
vessel in the harbor bearing our ensign — at that
time. Surely this ought to be a lesson to Con-
gress, in respect of our decrepit navy ! Diplo-
macy compelled me to pocket the indignity I suf-
fered. Disagreeable as this incident was, it had
its ludicrous aspect as the reader will see further
on.

Beylerbey was not always a place of confine-
ment for prisoners of state. In ancient days it

266 THE PRINCES ISLES.

was a favorite pleasure retreat of the Byzantine
emperors. It had then its famous Greek church,
Chrysoxeramos — of the golden tiles. When the
Turks came they gave the place the name of
"Joy Unceasing." It long remained the chosen
residence of the Sultans, who preferred the Asiat-
ic to the other side of the Bosphorus for the sum-
mer season. It still retains much of its imperial
enchantments — and entanglements, as I found out
on my first visit, but not with " unceasing joy."

Among the several palaces on the eastern side
of the Bosphorus are the palaces of Istavros,
Chengel, Keui, Kouleh, and Kandilli, but the pal-
ace of Beylerbey is the most beautiful and re-
nowned of them all. It was built by Mahmoud
II. for a summer residence. It rose like an ex-
halation to sweetest music. It was planned in a
dream, beneath the shadow of an Oriental moun-
tain, in an hour of golden luxuriousness and in-
dolence, and carried into execution during a fit
of elegant caprice.

When the beautiful Empress Eugenie visited
the Orient at the opening of the Suez canal, the
reigning Sultan, Abdul Aziz, went to many ex-
cesses of magnificent courtesy, including the dedi-
cation to her use of the Beylerbey palace. It was
then completely refurnished. The upholstery was
of velvet and satin. The decorations of the cham-
ber of the Empress were copied from those in the

THE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS.

Tuilleries. A magnificent caique, marvellous be-
yond the dreams of Cleopatra, was built ex-
pressly for Her Majesty. It had all the Oriental
appointments and rich carvings in gold, while
everything was ready to be served in European
or Asiatic fashion to gratify her womanly and
regal caprices. There were also special services,
thoroughly Turkish, with all their environments.
Upon the princely dining table there were rare
silver services, Broussa silk napkins, embroidered
with gold and silver, and golden dishes studded
with turquoises, and everything to give Oriental
taste and tone to the repast. The Sultanas act-
ually drank champagne to the Empress' health.
For the first time, these Mussulman ladies sipped
the liquor forbidden by Mahomet. It made the
young hilarious and the old happy. Singers and
dancers gave variety to the regal welcome. The
Empress learned to smoke cigarettes, perfumed
with Orient odors. She had near her two charm-
ing young women of the East, as interpreters and
companions. One of them was Nazli Hanoum,
a princess of Egypt, and grand-daughter of Me-
hemet Ali. Her life since these joyous scenes
has had its mournful experiences. One of these is
associated with the writer. It came innocently
enough from our courtesy to this fair Mahometan
Albanian at Prinkipo, which led to certain illegal
proceedings recorded in this volume.

268 THE PRINCES ISLES.

There is a kiosk, almost wholly of glass, at each
end of the sea-wall, which protects the palace
grounds of Beylerbey. The interior of each is
furnished with a broad divan in blue and straw-
colored satin. Behind the wall there are terraced
gardens rising in tiers, one above another, where
flowers and fountains abound. Upon the highest
point of the grounds are the ostrich gardens ; and
formerly there was a rare menagerie there. All
the animals are gone except the ostriches and a
lone tiger. I emphasize the tiger. Hereby hangs
my tale.

The palace is upon the lower terrace of the
garden, not far from the Bosphorus. It is a
building of three stories. It is of pure white
marble. It is ornate in style. It is not palatial
in extent, but it is a gem of Oriental architecture.
The broad vestibule leads into a grand central
chamber which is lighted from the roof. Here
is a staircase of unequalled beauty and superb
decoration. Marble columns support the galleries
of the floors above. Walls, floor and ceiling are of
marble. It the centre of the main hall is a grand
fountain, with innumerable jets shooting their
sheafs of silver with a murmurous music into the
quiet air.

From this central hall various rooms open.
Here the Grand Duke Nicholas, after the treaty
of San Stefano had relieved the city from Russian

THE TIGER,— IN ROYAL STATE.

269

occupation, held high court and carnival, following
the example of the Empress Eugenie. Here rat-
tled and clanked over the marble pavements the
spurs and sabres of the Russian officers. Here the
then young Sultan, Abdul Hamid, came to make his
courtesies to the Czar's representative.

But of more vital interest to me than all these
scenes of departed pomp and pageantry was the
last remaining animal of the Sultan Abdul Aziz's
menagerie. He was a royal Bengal tiger. I made
my homage to his royalty as he couched and pant-
ed in his confinement. " He was the sole relic of
old Priam's pride ! "

It is not unusual in the palaces around Con-
stantinople to illustrate the parks and gardens
with some very vivid pictures of natural history.
The Sultan has within his grounds at Yildiz
several aviaries of rare birds. He has a remarka-
ble collection of pigeons, and, along with a small,
but very select, menagerie, some 200 fine horses.
These horses are exercised in a riding school where
the Circassian guards sometimes exhibit their feats.
His Majesty is accustomed to shoot wild fowl,
which are decoyed to his little lakes within the
palace enclosure. And, like other and more ultra-
Oriental princes and emperors of the Tartar race,
he occasionally summons for his recreation a
sweet singer, or a conjuror, or a dwarf, or all -of
these together ; but in their midst a young tiger,

270 THE PRINCES ISLES.

whose antics are more terrifying than harmful, is
not unfrequently introduced for the gratification of
the company, or the delight of the harem.

In an excursion to the Bosphorus from our Isle
of Prinkipo I had the honor of gallanting, under
a special firman from the Sultan, a company of
some twenty-five ladies and gentlemen. They
were mostly of American nationality. After
observing the wonderful riches of the treasury at
Seraglio Point, with all its crowns, batons, arms,
scimitars, robes of state and royal jewellery, and
the usual touristic visit to Dolma Batche, the most
beautiful palace in the world, our launch bore us
across the Bosphorus to the palace of Beylerbey.
Sauntering through its sylvan shades we come to
the ostrich farm upon the lofty heights. They
may be tame birds, but they show considerable
fierceness when we observe them. No one ven-
tures in their midst. But what most attracts our
attention here is a cage, some forty by thirty feet,
in which is confined the royal tiger. He is the
prisoner to whom I have referred so touchingly.
No doubt he has many strange graces and accom-
plishments and, doubtless, some crimes to atone,
but I am not sufficiently ''close to His Highness"
to note his graces or vices. I keep a respectful
distance, for his cage looks old and shaky. Its
iron bars are suggestively slim. The tiger lies
in a crouching attitude with eyes ablaze, as if

AN UNDIGNIFIED RE TREA T. 2 7 1

intent on gratifying some carnivorous propensity.
Some of the company playfully pitch pebbles at
him to arouse him. I do not. I stand in the
middle of the road.

He does not notice the rest of the company.
Evidently he desires to receive no one of less
rank than a Plenipotentiary. Horresco refer ens !
In the twinkling of an eye, he springs, not at any
of the company, but at the Envoy! In fact, this
Oriental monarch would have the American Min-
ister one with himself. No doubt he intended
to do me a special honor, to take me into his
embraces — to fall upon my neck and hug me.
But what would my democratic constituents think
of such a submission to an autocrat? This selfish
thought comes on me like a flash of light — an in-
spiration. I turn my back hurriedly on royalty.
I throw diplomacy to the winds. I flee " the pre-
sence " with a celerity and certainty that were never
surpassed on the swiftest "star route" of the
plains. When the company assembles at the
palace below, to re-embark on the launch, I am
told, amidst much hilarious chaffing, that I had out-
stripped the swiftest flight of Mercury. But I
maintain that in spite of the succulent two hun-
dred and fifty pounds of our cavass, and other
weighty persons present, including some unctuous
females, the tiger showed a royal discrimination in
picking out a Minister Plenipotentiary for his prey.

2/2

THE PRINCES ISLES.

" Afraid ? " What ! an American afraid of a royal
personage? Never ! Besides I had no time for
fear. "Undignified retreat?" Let me amend.
It was not a " retreat." It was more like one of
General Joe Lane's field evolutions, of Kansas
fame. It was a swift countermarch in the face of
the enemy, executed in the most dashing style to
the rear !

I once came upon two grizzlies in California;
they were in a — cage. I never loved a fero-
cious animal outside of a cage or menagerie. I
have never seen any such in a state of nature,
except a supposititious hyena in upper Egypt
among the tombs, and a jackal between Jaffa
and Jerusalem. I met the latter by moonlight
alone, but I loved him not. It is not necessary
to see the tiger in his lair to appreciate his
moral qualities. I have talked with wild Kabyles
in Algiers, and with officers of the British
army from South Africa, and have heard them
detail their lion-hunting adventures.

One of the officers of the British Indian
army told me a story worth repeating. It was
about the famous Jaagt in the Island of Singa-
pore. He was a man-eater ; I mean the Jaagt. I
will let this son of Mars — the officer — relate his
adventure in his own grandiose style, and with all
its Brobdignagian proportions. He describes the

THE FAMOUS MAN-EA TER.

tiger as running through the jungle — away from
him.

" As soon as I saw " said the British officer,
" his eyes burning like coals of fire, I knew he
was the famous man-eater. He had a little child
in his fangs, and, upon my honor, was about to
leap over one of the pits, which are sometimes
dug in the jungles, and^bear it off to his fastness
among the rocks of the hills ! My first impulse
was to open fire on the brute with my sixteen-shot
revolving breech-loader rifle, but when I saw the
child, I hesitated."

Here I raise my hands in holy horror, and my
eyes express the utmost concern as the officer
resumes : —

"I hesitate," said he, "but a short time. I
pick out a spot where the intermaxillary joins
the temporal bone. I fire. The child drops un-
harmed from the tiger's broken jaws ! It is one
of the best shots of my life !

"This shot brings the ferocious animal to bay.
I see the great gouts of blood, dropping from
his jaws as he lashes his sides furiously with
his royal tail ! He crouches for a spring. Is he
not a royal specimen? His side shines in the
sun like satin striped with burnished gold. I am
almost dazzled with its brilliancy. I do not want
to spoil such a trophy. I aim for his eye. I send
a bullet into his brain, just as he makes his spring.

274

THE PRINCES ISLES.

He falls stone dead at my feet ! I restore the
child, a beautiful boy, to its distracted mother who
lives in a bungalow, near by. Upon my honor,
the sight of the lady's joy and gratitude over her
rescued child almost unmans me. She is the
wife of a huzzar officer. I order one of my
retinue to remove the hide from the slain animal.
I present it to her a few days afterwards for a rug.
I would not have taken a thousand pounds for it."

But this was not the end of the gallant officer's
tiger story. After a moment of suspicious silence
on our part, he said :

" Do you know, gentlemen, I have some-
times been slightly embarrassed at the suspicion
with which those unfamiliar with life in the
jungle receive our accounts of its adventures?
Now, mark the sequel. Twenty years after this
incident, I was in the smoking saloon of one of
the Peninsula and Oriental steamers, with a lot of
officers and civilians on their way out to India.
We were whiling away the evening, comparing
our hunting reminiscences. Among other exploits,
I recounted this adventure in Singapore. Just as
I finished it, a little ensign whom I had noticed
listening to the story with strange excitement of
manner, springs from his seat with uncontrollable
emotion. He runs to me. He throws himself into
my arms. He exclaims :

" ' General ! general ! I am that rescued child,

EA RL Y PARTIALITY FOR FELINES.

275

and the lady is my mother ! She cherishes that
tiger robe as the chief of her choicest treasures !
Oh ! my brave, brave, preserver ! Have I found
you at last ?' If you can credit it, there was not
a dry eye in the party."

I relate the brave officer's story, not alone for
its own interest, but in order that its moral shall
maintain the veracity of my own tiger tale. It is
with great reluctance that I tell it. I would not
be discredited. Still I have a suspicion that that
officer is a lineal descendant of Ananias and Sap-
phira; and that the young ensign displayed fine
histrionic talent.

Nearly every one in his callow youth has a par-
tiality for an animal. Some take to a horse, some
to a squirrel, some to a dog, some to a parrot and
some to a canary. My partiality was always for a
cat. There is something in the affectionate nature
of the cat, whose purring leads one unconsciously
and gradually on toward a tender regard for its
congener — the tiger! In visiting the menagerie, I
always look first for the tiger's cage. Look into
any book upon vertebrated animals at the figure
of the tiger ! You will see it pictured as a model
of strength and grandeur. The ancients said that
the peacock was the most beautiful among birds
and the tiger among animals. Where is the ani-
mal of its size that can leap so easily as the tiger,
four times its own length ? It is said while its

THE PRINCES ISLES.

physiognomy is far from fierce and, unlike the
lion, is of a placid and pleasing air, — that no cor-
rection can terrify, and no indulgence tame it.
But it is erroneous to suppose that the tiger is un-
tamable. Why should not any feline be tamable ?
The cat is the most domestic of animals. Shake-
speare calls it the "harmless necessary cat."
Augustus, the Roman emperor, kept a tame tiger,
and Claudius had four of them at a time, as a
royal pleasure. This fact is verified by a beauti-
ful mosaic, discovered near the arch of Gallicius
in Rome. Kean, the tragedian, possessed a puma.
It is a fierce feline. It followed him about as
docile as a dog. Sarah Bernhardt has a young
cougar as her playmate ! I should prefer them
when quite young.

It was the custom of the early emperors in
Byzantium to have a tame tiger near them. The
fakirs of Hindostan have the secret of making
tigers as tractable as kittens. But after such kit-
tens come to the age of discretion, I wrould not
play with them, if I were a fakir. As a general
rule, I would not advise either emperor or fakir
to be too familiar with the tiger. Like other
specimens of royalty, its favor is fickle. It has
the trick of its ancestry. Through caressing, it
may be tamed for a time, but very few people
either in or outside of India would go its security
to keep the peace.

RO YAL TY AND SIZE OF THE TIGER. 2 77

In Asia the type of royalty is the tiger. In
ancient Rome, the symbol of empire was the
eagle. In France, it is a rooster. Is it not Emer-
son who says that these symbols of strength are
selected from the predatory kingdom ? It may not
be generally known, but it is true, that the beaver
was proposed in America as the emblem of our
hardworking, industrious and sagacious people ;
but the beaver was laughed out of our national
crest. In its place was substituted a bald-headed
robber.

Not being able to account for the tigerish pro-
pensity exhibited toward me at Beylerbey by
anything that I had ever done to the animal, for
I always defer to him, even in a menagerie, by
taking off my hat before his cage, at a respectful
distance, it at last occurred to me that I had
never sufficiently atoned for a bit of school-boy
composition. Its theme was " The Tiger." I
cannot fully recall its tenor, but it did not do
justice to the magnificent savagery and superlative
strength of his nature. I simply said that it was
an animal three feet high and eight feet long.
This was unjust. Had not Buffon seen one in
the East Indies, fifteen feet long? This, how-
ever, included the tail. " Allowing" says the
naturalist, " four feet for that, it must have been
eleven feet from the tip of the nose to the inser-
tion of the tail." Goldsmith saw one in the

2;8 THE PRINCES ISLES.

Tower nine feet long. I am now satisfied, from a
hasty glance in the cage at Beylerbey, that the
tiger is at least twenty-five feet long and seven-
teen feet high ! It is announced in books, that
he has a yellow hide, and an average of some
twenty-five very black stripes. I am now satisfied
that the hide is of a sanguinary red and that its
ebony stripes may be counted by the hundred.
In my composition I related how it was the object
of sportive expeditions in Bengal ; that the hunt-
ers go forth, armed with rifles, in a houdah, on the
backs of trained elephants to kill the tiger ; and
I have never since disassociated the elephant from
a tiger. The general opinion is, that the tiger
springs upon the elephant to reach the hunter.
I did not question its correctness in my speedy
movement down the hill of Beylerbey. My tiger
seemed to have elephantine proportions. As the
Irishman said of the elephant — it had a tail at both
ends of the animal. My movement at that par-
ticular juncture outdid any latter-day toboggan
slide. It gave rise to an excess of specific levity,
from my companions ; but I gave to the retreat
all my specific gravity. It was accelerated by a
wild scream from the animal, more horrid than the
roar of the lion : tigrides indomitce, rugiuntque
leones. I had yielded to the indomitable. Is it
Byron, or some one else, who says : " There is a
pleasure in the pathless woods." I never enjoyed

A LITERARY TIGER. 27Q

myself in palatial grounds so much as I did on my
retreat from the caged animal at Beylerbey ; for I
went down through the terraced groves regard-
less of paths. I did not retreat before an ordi-
nary, unrenowned beast. No ! I learn that this
is the identical tiger referred to in a volume by
Lieutenant Greene of the United States Army.
He saw it in 1878, after the Russian war. He
speaks of it as "a far-famed tiger of great beauty
and wonderful size." So that this hero of the jungle
is not unknown to literature. How often has he
avoided the poise of the spear in his native home !
How often has he leaped upon the Jumbos of the
jungle ! Of this there is no record. It is said
that death and the gods are shod so softly that
their tread is silent. The paw of the tiger has
death beneath its velvet. But when I fled from
his paw I took courage from this comforting
verse about the Pale Horse and his rider:

" —. poisoned with a kitten's claw,

The man escaped the tiger's jaw ! "

Tiger-hunting was always a favorite diversion
with me — in books. I have read Captain Shake-
spear's "Wild Sports of India." I had followed
him upon the elephant. I became as brave as a
Shikarree up a tree, with a bullock below for a
bait, and a "man-eater" crouching in the thicket

2gO T<HE PRINCES ISLES.

— but this was in a book ! I have swallowed
many of the swelling1 tales of the Nimrods of the
British Indian army; and have blessed the intelli-
gent lungoor-baboon, which warns other animals
of the feline approach, by swinging with prehen-
sile grasp from tree to tree, uttering much Simian
profanity.

The roar of the tiger and the trumpeting of the
elephant give a resounding glory to the hunt of
the tiger. The more distant these notes of battle
to my ear, the better ! I was told in Northern
Africa, by a Gascon resident, that the lion killers
run little risk, as they take care to gorge the ani-
mal with a calf or so before attacking him. In
reading up the literature of the tiger, I am inclin-
ed, from my experience at Beylerbey, to make a
series of rules, nunc pro tune, for the governance
of the tiger hunt, seriatim thus :

RULE I. If the tiger be interrupted by the ap-
proach of any other animal, do not try to shoot at
the other beasts. How any hunter can coolly look
at a tiger, selecting the best place in his" body for
the bullet, is to me marvellous ; yet I have read of
hunters scanning his withers and girth, locating his
lung, liver and vertebrae, with as much sangfroid
as if the burning of his optic coals were not vital
with savagery.

RULE II. Scan, with heed, the anatomy of the
head, before going for the brain.

RULES FOR TIGER HUNTING. 28l

RULE III. In the selection of a spot to which to
tie a heifer as bait, find a place near a lofty and
easily climbed tree.

RULE IV. Do not forget to grease the trunk of
the tree behind you as you climb up.

RULE V. Approach the tiger, if at all, when it
is sleeping.

RULE VI. If this be not profitable, carry a vial
of chloroform. This conquers the nervousness of
the animal, but it requires more nerve for its ap-
plication than some Nimrods possess.

RULE VII. If your elephant meet a tiger and,
being frightened, runs into a tree and upsets the
houdah, do not stop to rearrange the elephant.
Leave yourself for the nearest tree. Such a ti-
ger is not worth a scent. Let him go !

RULE VIII. When you see a tiger in the gloam-
ing sharpening his claws against a forest tree, see
that your native aids go ahead to absorb his un-
divided attention. They are not expensive.

RULE IX. If you perceive the tiger to be dead,
do not be in a hurry about skinning him. He
has been known to punish, after death. I have
read well authenticated cases of tigers whose aorta
or cerebrum have been fatally shot ; but the tiger
easily overcomes the vis inertice.

RULE X. When you desire to sit on a damp
mound in an Indian jungle, to watch for tigers,
arm yourself with quinine balls.

282 THE PRINCES ISLES.

RULE XL When the tiger charges, as mine did
at Beylerbey, with his ears back and his body al-
most even with the ground, do not try to subdue
him with a piercing glance of your own masterful
eye.

RULE XII. If it be a tigress that charges, do
not rely too much on the gentleness of her sex.
She is not a cold blooded animal like the bear and
she warms to her bloody work.

RULE XIII. When you are advised by your
Shikarree that the tiger is lying in a wide open
space, where the grass is higher than your head,
do not go into the high grass. There is peril in
handling the gun under the circumstances.

RULE XIV. If your gun is a repeater, be sure
to carry more than one charge ; otherwise you
cannot be safely regarded as having a battery with
you for the assault which is necessary.

RULE XV. Be sure that your gun has proper
penetrating power ; for the tiger is a mass of
sinew, muscle and bone.

RULE XVI. Do not negotiate the tiger's skin
prematurely ; for you may discover before you
commence skinning that you have only tickled
his hide with a non-lethal weapon.

RULE XVII. In removing the tiger's skin, un-
der the belief that he is dead, better commence at
the tail, as many tigers have been known to re-
vive at the other end, under the operation.

MORE RULES.

283

RULE XVIII. Do not attack the tiger without
a breech-loader ; for if you should in your nervous-
ness pour the powder in on top of the wad, you
might obscure your vision of the tiger, and he
would likely have an advantage, owing to his pe-
culiar eyesight, enhanced after the manner of bur-
glars, by prowling at night. In case of such ob-
scuration, wait until a wind arises to blow off the
smoke before renewing the attack.

RULE XIX. Do not cultivate a mercenary
spirit as the inspiration of a tiger-hunt. Although
the Indian Government may offer a large reward
for the skull of this ferocious beast, it is well to
cultivate a disinterested spirit. Give all your
mind to the sportive exhilaration.

RULE XX. It is well to have at least twenty
elephants in line before you charge on the jungle ;
otherwise, the contest may be unequal.

RULE XXI. When the tiger screams, it is well to
consider it as an intimation that he has prepared
his dinner and wishes to dine alone.

RULE XXII. If you are surrounded by a tiger
and a tigress and several cubs, and escape through
what the East Indians call the " swearing " of a
common monkey, remember to treat the monkey
thereafter with respect. Do not, in addressing
him, use the word " monkey." When you speak
of or to him, call him the Semnopithecus Entellus.

RULE XXIII. Inasmuch as the peacock is in-

284

THE PRINCES ISLES.

digenous to the forests of India where tigers most
do congregate, and is a rival of the tiger for beauty
of form and color, and besides is an ally of the
monkey in warning other animals, including man,
of the dangerous proximity of the enemy, speak
of the .peacock with respect. Praise its melodious
voice and dilate on its tail. Its vociferous
" hauk ! " " hauk ! " should not be repeated in vain.
It deserves recognition. These birds of Vanity
and Juno are friends of mankind. They deserve
recognition in a tiger country.

RULE XXIV. If a superannuated jackal, who
has been expelled from his pack, makes its famil-
iar yell, look out for the tiger! It is his lackey.
It feeds upon his leavings.

RULE XXV. When chasing the tiger, and find-
ing him in full retreat,, if he stops, as he some-
times will, to tear up the tufts of grass hilariously
to clean his nails, raise the banner of non-interven-
tion as an American gentleman, and quote Horace
ad unguem.

RULE XXVI. If you have enough elephants in
your retinue to carry some coal-oil tar, it would be
a matter of safety to agglutinate the tiger's eyes
and ears, for that operation has the same effect on
a tiger as tarring and feathering on an unhappy
human wretch, where Judge Lynch holds court.

RULE XXVII. If your company is noisy
enough with their cries, drums, cymbals and

HA UNTED B Y TIGERS.

285

other clangorous music, retire from the hunt. You
may thereby soften, if not frighten, the ferocity
out of the tiger.

As a final suggestion. After you have him
thoroughly dead, singe his whiskers ! Otherwise
he will haunt you. I need not say that my ex-
perience at Beylerbey was of similar import. I
was, and am still, haunted by this animal. In my
dreams I picture him in every attitude — crouching,
standing, and fighting with fang and claw, as a
royal animal whose only type in the human family
is found in such scourges as Genghis Khan, or
Timour, the Lame Tartar.

I return to Prinkipo after this jaunt more or
less timid about animals, especially the " felinae."
This timidity is increased by an adventure with
a watch-dog in our villa. He has returned and
finds us as new occupants. As a good dog he
resents our tenancy. He bites the tenant.

Our front gate is not latched. It is pushed
gently open and a dog bounds in. I am in the
arbor with my wife. The gardener rushes in to
catch the dog. But the dog has only come to his old
home. He is likely cross by reason of his exile.
We had stipulated that he should be taken away
from the villa. The cook and the maid said he
would not bite. They gave him something to eat
while we collected around him. The cook said :

" Why don't you caress him, and he will soon
know you."

286 THE PRINCES ISLES.

I venture to do so. In a moment he snaps
savagely, but happily the stiff shirt wristbands
and doubled up sleeve of my woollen undershirt
take the grip of the teeth. Only a slight scratch
appears on the wrist, without breaking the skin.
The indentation of the teeth is exquisitely shown
on the stiff wristband. He is no apprentice in
the art of printing — this dog.

I resort to the library for consolation. I peruse
Buff on, Jardine and Goldsmith. At last I find
consolation in Aristophanes who, in speaking of
another wild beast, advises in his comic vein
to have nothing to do with such creatures ; and
especially, to "let the tigress suckle her own
whelps."

As a sportsman, in the literature of tiger-hunt-
ing, I close this chapter with a regrettable an-
nouncement. The famous Parsee tiger slayer,
Hormusjee Eduljee Kotewal, has just died in a
Bombay hospital from the effects of "a mauling
by a cheetah." Ah ! had he been a good Parsee ;
had he carried with him a bottle of naphtha from
Baku, or a jug of coal tar from Oil City, how
easily he could have subdued the cheetah ! The
Bhandsa State would not now be in tears over the
death of its brave forest inspector. He died game.
His record is high. He shot, during life, a hun-
dred tigers. Peace to all their ashes !

CHAPTER XVIII.

ACROSS THE CHANNEL OF PRINKIPO HANNIBAL AND

HIS GRAVE.

SOMETIMES I add a volume to my repertory,
fresh from the mint of London or Paris, which
is * perused under conditions of indolence and
seclusion. One of these volumes, which held me
by its fascination and glitter of style, its wealth of
research and strangeness of learning was Flaubert's
" Salambo." It opens the mystic chambers of
Phoenician life. It gives new glimpses of the
Commercial Republic in her pristine days. It
presents the strange religious rites of Asia and
Africa in their wildest orgies. It displays Car-
thage when she was the rival of Rome, in an
aspect to make others weep with Marius over her
ruins. The volume is very realistic, especially
when read in sight of those Bithynian shores
where the merchant princes of Carthage once
traded, and where their conquering triremes often
swept through the waters of the Propontis.

" Salambo " is the bewitched and beauteous
daughter of the great Hamilcar. Her counterpart
one may see at the Greek church or at the scala

287

288 THE PRINCES ISLES.

every day here at Prinkipo. I confess to a dis-
appointment in the volume, however, for the hero
of my youthful enthusiasm, Hannibal, the .famous
son of HamilcaF Barca, is barely mentioned.
True, he was but a youth when the stirring scenes
of the war with the mercenaries, of which the
book treats, was in progress. Still the intrepid
boy is sufficiently outlined for the reader to see
him as " father to the man."

Hamilcar was often put to straits to save Hanni-
bal from the demands of the priests of Moloch.
They sought their human victims among the sons
of the eminent. The learned novelist makes the
teacher and guardian of the boy come from that
mysterious shore which is peopled with turtles,
which sleep under the palms on the dunes. The
faithful Iddibal enters the presence of the anxious
father to render an account of his stewardship over
the boy. " No one yet suspects ? " The old guar-
dian swears that the mystery has been kept. " I
teach him to' hurl the javelin and to drive a team."
" He is strong — is he not ? " asks the proud and
anxious father. "Yes, Master, and intrepid as
well ! He has no fear of serpents, thunder or
phantoms. He runs bare-footed like a herdsman
along the brink of lofty precipices. He invents
snares for wild beasts. In the last moon he sur-
prised an eagle. The animal, in its fury, en-
wrapped him in the beating of its wings ; he

YOUNG HANNIBAL.

strained it against his breast ; and as it died, his
laughter increased."

Hamilcar bent his head, well pleased at these
presages of his son's greatness! "But" resumed
the teacher, "the boy has been for some time
restless and disturbed. He gazes at the sails
passing far out at sea. He is often melancholy.
He rejects food. He inquires too much about
the gods ; and he wishes to become acquainted
with Carthage. How is he to be restrained ? I
have to make him promises. I now come to Car-
thage to buy him a dagger with a silver handle set
'in pearls."

This is one glimpse at the boyhood of the Car-
thaginian hero, who made " Rome howl " in the
might of his glorious manhood. What a career
was his ! And how tragic in its ending, — like that
of all the great conquerors — Alexander, Caesar,
Napoleon ! He became a prisoner on yonder
shore of Bithynia. It is just across the channel of
Prinkipo. There, it is said, in the so-called castle
of Hannibal, he took poison and died.

There is a romance about Hannibal which had
strange attraction for me when I was a child. I
felt a pity for the little boy when his father, just
before journeying with him to Spain and when he
was only nine years of age, dedicated him at the
altar to an eternal Nemesis against Rome ! I at-
tached myself to his fortunes and gloried in his tri-
19

THE PRINCES ISLES.

umphs. How he subdued the Spanish princes ;
how he aroused the Roman senators by his suc-
cesses ; how, after protecting Africa and Spain, he
moved on to Italy ; how he crossed the Pyrenees
with half a hundred thousand footmen and n,ooo
horses ; how he deceived Scipio, and how he crossed
the Alps into the valley of the Dora Balteau,—
each incident is a romantic chapter with a lofty
climax, which must always allure the fancy of the
young and amaze the mind of the old. At Cannae
he played havoc by destroying 70,000 men. Italy,
almost Rome herself, succumbed to him.

The immense sacrifices and movements of these
ancient rivals so disturb the even flow of history,
that we almost forget Philip of Macedon and his son.
The brother of Hannibal joined him in Italy, on the
banks of the Metaurus, where his army was worsted
and the brother was killed. Then Hannibal was
on the defensive. Never in the annals of mankind
was there such a long campaign as he made in a
hostile country, without assistance from home.
When Hannibal withdrew from Italy he was met
and beaten by Scipio, and thus ended the second
Punic war. Then Scipio began those services by
which he attained the civic crown. These events
happened more than 200 years before Christ. It
is 2069 years since that tomb across the Prinkipo
channel received the remains of this wonderful
soldier. Rome had demanded the punishment of

BITHYNIA AS AN ASYLUM. 2Ql

Hannibal as a disturber of the public peace. He
set sail for the land of his Phoenician ancestors.
He landed at Tyre. After some adventures at
or near Ephesus, he sought these shores, made
memorable by the siege of Troy, and since the
scene of many contests of priest and king, caliph
and emperor. He was received at the court of
the king of Bithynia, whose realm extended from
the Euxine and Propontis, on the north and west,
eastward, and including those places now famous
for their ecclesiastical history — Nicomedia and
Nicaea. Its people were Greek colonists. Their
descendants to-day are Greeks. The inland, as
we see it from Prinkipo, is mountainous. It was
then, and is yet, wooded. Near the sea there are
fertile plains, which 2000 years ago were in a high
state of cultivation, with villages sprinkled over
its plains and slopes. Along its shore, toward
Ismid, there is a railroad whose rumble invades the
ear as I write. It is an unaccustomed sound
in the Orient. It is tempered by the moaning
of the wind through the pine trees of Prinkipo.

It was in this land of Bithynia that Hannibal at
last found asylum. A Roman embassy went to
the king and demanded him. For fear of falling
into the hands of his enemy, to whose destruction
he had been dedicated fifty-six years before, he
destroys himself. This event happens at Nico-
media, then the capital of Bithynia, and now

2^2 TKE PRINCES ISLES.

known as Ismid. It is at the eastern end of the
gulf of that name, to which, every day, I see the
Turkish postal steamer voyaging, with its solitary
white plume of vapor floating over the sea be-
tween the snowy range of Olympus and the
wooded heights of our enchanted isle.

This son of Hamilcar Barca, the Thunder-
bolt, almost fulfilled his destiny. He only failed
to make Carthage — the mistress of the world — vice
Rome conquered. He reduced Rome to a dire
emergency. Hasdrubal, his brother, rolled down
the Alps with an army that gathered like an
avalanche as he moved into Lombardy. What
with his elephants and troops, with which he had
left Gaul, he drew tribe after tribe of the cis-Alpine
Celts to his standards. But the Roman senate
had not then degenerated. Rome had a consul,
Nero. He was the man for the crisis. He was
associated with old Livius, — as tough and obsti-
nate an old Roman as ever led on a legion or rode
in a triumphal chariot. Of stores, money and men
Rome had been drained. Cannae was still remem-
bered. But a senate which had voted a triumph
to its defeated soldiers, and never despaired of the
republic, was not to be disturbed by panic.
Although Hannibal was in the south and his
brother in the north, or, in the language of that
time, although two Hannibals were in the field
and striving by all the arts and devices of skill and

THE SONS OF THUNDER.

strategy to draw toward each other, and thus to
destroy Rome and carry out with strenuous feroc-
ity the vow made by their father, still Rome did
not despair. After much pressing the Roman
consuls outwitted the "sons of Thunder." It was
the consuls who united. It was the double Han-
nibal who was separated.

What an assemblage was that army of Hasdru
bal ! The known world had been ransacked for
its hordes. Here were Iberian Celts in white
houmous; their brother Gauls, half naked, rank
with savage Ligurians ; mountaineers of the mari-
time Alps from Genoa and its vicinity ; Nasamones
from the region of Morocco ; spearmen from the
Nile — and Lotophagi, who lived upon a fruit that
cured home-sickness. These flank the Cartha-
ginians " in cubic phalanx firm advancing " in the
centre. Numidian horsemen from the tribes of the
desert swarm on the wings, upon unsaddled
steeds. The van of the army is made up of
Balearic slingers from Minorca and Majorca,
whose art I have noticed among the Kabyles of
Algiers. The artillery is in the line of colossal ele-
phants, guided by Ethiopians. It makes a living
pachydermatous wall of defence. With javelin,
sword and spear, the soldiers march ; with mallet
and spike the elephant-drivers ride, ready to kill
the beast when it becomes unmanageable !

For the Roman array read Gibbon's first chapter.

294

THE PRINCES ISLES.

In divisions of 1 200, with breast-plated and helmeted
ranks they meet the enemy. Their red crests shine
like fire in the light of battle. Their javelins are
light and are easily borne, with the short-sword
for thrusting and cutting. In quiescent order the
stern legions form. Every soldier is a single com-
batant. Each horseman is a skirmisher. Nero
commands the right wing, Livius the left, and
Porcius, the praetor, the centre.

History records this great test of Roman valor
by recounting the defeat and death of Hasdrubal.
The head of the defeated general is carried as a
trophy upon the hurried march of the Roman
army. It is thrown into the camp of Hannibal,
who then looks upon his brother's face for the
first time in eleven years. Horace pictures the
scene in his verse, and Livy tells of the delir-
ium of Rome over the result. The senate is
in perpetual session. The temples are filled
with worshippers. Thanksgiving is proclaimed.
Pleasure and business revive. Hannibal remains
in the land, but his power is broken. The battle
gives Rome two centuries of triumphs. Hannibal
still holds Southern Italy, but Rome "has con-
quered. Carthago delenda est. Still it is this
Hannibal — our neighbor of Bithynia — who was the
first in a period of 619 years, according to Gib-
bon, who had violated the seat of Roman empire
by his presence as a foreign enemy.

ME TAURUS— A PIVOTAL BATTLE. 2

I have mentioned, in the preceding chapter, a
volume by Sir Edward Creasy. It is entitled the
" Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World — from Mar-
athon to Waterloo." He makes the battle of
Metaurus one of these pivotal battles, because
upon it hinged the supreme power, either of
Rome or Carthage. The historian likens the
issue to that of Waterloo. Napoleon was only a
later Hannibal. One fought seventeen years
against Rome, the other sixteen against England.
The historian carries the parallel even to Scipio
and Wellington. When Hasdrubal fell at the
Metaurus the fate of the world and that of Han-
nibal also was sealed. It was not a struggle
between two cities or empires, but between the
commercial spirit of Africa and the civilizing laws
of Rome. It was a contest between the Indo-
Germanic and the Semitic family of nations ; be-
tween art and culture on one hand, and indus-
try and adventure on the other. Everywhere on
the historic sea which surrounds us the struggle
was witnessed. Here the Phoenician contended
with the Greek two thousand years ago. To-day
the congener of the Phoenician, the Arab, contests
with the West. Rome annihilated Carthage;
will the Turk remain when pressed by the same
potential West ?

What remains of Carthage? The periplus of
Hanno, from which Flaubert constructs his won-

296

THE PRIXCES ISLES.

derful novel ; a few coins ; some verses in Plautus ;
some remnants in the Franco- Phoenician peninsula,
and the fourth ode of Horace !

" Quid debeas Roma, Neronibus
Testis Metaurum flumen et Hasdrubal
Devictus. "

So apocryphal is its history that Byron was
compelled to rescue from the oblivious pen of the
"Blind Muse" the name of that consul, Nero,
who made the unequalled march which deceived
Hannibal and defeated Hasdrubal. To this vic-
tory of Nero it might be owing that his imperial
namesake reigned at all. But the infamy of the
one has eclipsed the glory of the other. " When
the name of Nero is heard, who thinks of the con-
sul?"

So I may say, looking across the Prinkipo chan-
nel, within a few miles of the rolling plains of
Bithynia : —

Who, in looking into the eternal Oriental
imbroglio, would dream that 2000 years ago at
Metaurus, or perhaps at Zama, the conflict was
begun, and temporarily ended, between the Indo-
Arabic-Asiatic-Oriental races and that other ele-
mental force which we now call " the West " ; and
that the dust of the Carthaginian hero who once
held Rome in awe reposes in yonder little dead
kingdom ? Arnold says, " The victory over Han-

ENTERPRISES OF CARTHAGE. 2 -

nibal at Zama made it possible for the isolated
city of Carthage, thirty years later, to receive and
to consolidate the civilization of Greece, or by its
laws and institutions to bind together barbarians
of every race and language into an organized em-
pire, and prepare them for becoming, when that
empire was dissolved, the free members of the
commonwealth of Christian Europe."

Who now dreams that the leader of that Punic
host was the precursor in time — and counting
the aeons, how brief the time — of that adven-
ture which, without the mariners' compass or
steam, followed the African coast far beyond
Sierra Leone, " doubled the Cape," and ex-
plored the coast of Norway and the islands of
Albioni and Hiberni ! Phoenician navigators an-
ticipated the Congo and other enterprizes into Cen-
tral Africa. Their fleets made a great trade with
the tribes of the terra incognita. Carthage, when
beaten by Greece in commerce upon these shores
—the ^Egean, the Pontus, Hellespont and Propon-
tis — made her commercial career on the Western
Mediterranean. She had great men like Hamilcar
and his great sons ; but her fall was signal and
calamitous. She was too much commercial and
not so warlike as she seemed. Her factions rav-
aged her before she was ruined by Rome. She
depended too much on hirelings. The rich mer-
chant— the " ancients," as Flaubert describes them

298

THE PRINCES ISLES.

— fought by a substitute from Minorca, Greece,
Gaul or Numidia. There was a tariff on life. Her
mercenaries, like the Hessians hired by George III.
to fight against America in 1776-7-8 — were brave
enough, but they did not fight like the sons of the
soil, contending for national life or personal ambi-
tion. Zama was the end of Carthage. There she
yielded her sceptre.

The story of Hannibal after he was beaten at
Zama by the Romans loses none of its romance
by the lapse of two thousand years. He first
sought refuge at the court of King Antiochus, in
Syria. Afterwards he went to the court of King
Perseus, of Bithynia. Here he was betrayed by
one of the legates whom Perseus had sent to
Rome. Then he was tracked to the house which
Perseus had given him. There he had lived a
lonely life, with only one servant. When the ser-
vant informed the old soldier that all chance of
retreat was blocked by more than the usual num-
ber of soldiers around his house, he gave up all
hope of escape, took the poison which he carried
with him, and at the age of seventy, in the year
183 B.C., this, the most remarkable man of an-
tiquity, next to Alexander and Caesar, died.

When I learned that the grave of Hannibal was
very near our vicinity, I happened to mention it
in a letter to America. Thereupon the indepen-
dent and not too reverent press of my country

MOURNING AT HANNIBAL'S GRAVE. 2QO

made every sort of picture of the great Carthagin-
ian. Some delineated him as the great elephant
of that name in Barnum's show. One pen-artist
went so far as to picture him as the same elephant,
pushing his way over the Alps, with trunk, trap-
pings and all the impediments attached ! Such
mistakes are liable to occur in the hurry of the
American press. It was a natural mistake. It
gave me some sadness. From the numerous
wood-cuts which illustrated the newspaper ac-
counts of Hannibal's Bithynian grave, I am tempt-
ed to reproduce an etching as a good specimen
of American art in its compact imagination as
evolved for that occasion. As the reader will see,
the artist — lest his exaggeration should seem to
be conceived in too humble a way to suit an Ori-
ental theme — gives his pen boldly to the portrait-
ure, so as to carry conviction of the truth of his
story. He circumstantially depicts the American
minister as a visitor at the grave of this departed
hero! Doubtless his inspiration is drawn from
Mark Twain's inconsolable sympathy at the grave
of Adam in Jerusalem.

Not the least of my enjoyments — sub silcntio—
at Prinkipo is the perusal of letters from old con-
stituents. Some have taken me for a minister of
the gospel, commended me for my change of life,
and given me sedate advice. Some have asked
impossible things that I should request of the

7"HE PRINCES ISLES.

government of Turkey. I wrote to a friend about
my location of the grave of Hannibal. I
thought it would interest him as he had once been
consul to Tunis, which included old Carthage in
its jurisdiction. I received a most sympathetic
reply. He greatly appreciated my kindness. He
asked me to drop a tear for him over the grave of
the Carthaginian hero ; to invoke his manes, and
whisper gently at his tomb that he, the late con-
sul— not of Rome but America — had lived long on
the soil of Carthage, and, like Marius at Utica, had
sat down upon the ruins of Bursa to contemplate
the scene of Carthaginian greatness. He con-
cluded by hoping that I would make a libation on
the grave to the repose of the ghost of Hannibal.
But the most jocose account of my discovery
was written by a valued friend, a Chicago editor.
He of course heard that I had discovered the
grave of his favorite hero. He determined
not to be out-done in describing the scene.
Concluding a long account, he pictures the
minister standing over the grave of the hero,
his lachrymal duct dripping with sympathetic
tears, which plash on a marble tombstone in-
scribed: " HANNIBAL, B.C. Anno 186. Requiescat
in pace ! " Among many touching episodes he im-
provises the following: "The minister's wife was
not so much overcome by emotion as he was.
'Why,' said she, Most thou weep for Hannibal?

LACHRYMAL DUCT FLOWING.

3OI

Pray — dam — oh ! dam thy tears ! Has he not
been dead two thousand years ? After such a
long absence will you not soon meet him in a
brighter and a better world ?" The minister, let
it be here recorded, was in no hurry to meet his
departed friend in the brighter and better world.
The editor's account of the scene is so realistic
and pathetic that it almost makes me weep — for
the credulity of human nature.

HANNIBAL'S GRAVE.

CHAPTER XIX.

ASIAN SHORES NIOEA AND NICOMEDIA.

THE country along the Asian shore is not less
celebrated for its fertility than for the comfort it
gave to the early Greeks. It was from the remot-
est times thickly studded with cities and towns,
with their teeming multitude of people. It is
still populous and prosperous. What land can
vie with it in interest ? Its mountain peaks
were once the abodes of the gods. Its ranges
still form the natural boundaries of grand prov-
inces, and shelter fruitful Piedmontese valleys
in their warm embrace. To the classic fancy they
are crowned with rich foliage above terraced
slopes like Judea of old and blooming under rare
cultivation. The terraces remain ; but the bare
peaks point forestless to the passing clouds in silent
protest against the waste of past generations and
the indolence of the present. What land has
scenes of more romance, or names more familiar to
the reader of biblical and secular history ! Its
nomenclature, even after thousands of years, woos
the archaeologist and artist to their work, and

302

SCENERY OF ASIA MINOR. 303

revives in the mind of the tourist lofty themes of
the ancient days when the hosts of Troy and
Greece were embattled on these plains.

It is a pleasant jaunt in the launch across the
channel to Kartal, where there is an old aban-
doned silk factory, owned by one of our neighbors
on the island, who is a Swiss. The large hall
with its clean, white, stone flooring is there. Fifty
silk-stands are there, but they are silent. They
speak the sad tale of an elegant industry aban-
doned. The water gave out, and therefore the
industry failed. Around the establishment the fig-
trees are hardy, for they care little for water.
But the earth is parched, and the fruit thereof
is pinched and poor. It is not of present en-
terprises I would speak now and here. The past
dominates.

This part of Asia Minor, into which I am accus-
tomed to look almost every morning from the
Isle of Prinkipo, is known as Anatolia. It is a
peninsula,— a vast plateau, falling by stages down
to the three seas. It is a spur of the great plateau
of Central Asia. Its climate is balmy and trop-
ical. It was the seat of empire. Its very position
is so admirable that it influenced immensely the
early civilizations which here contended.

The great cities are gone. There are few mon-
uments of former grandeur, and scarcely any
roads leading into the mainland. Of commerce

304

THE PRINCES ISLES.

there is almost none left. Industry and patience
still bring something out of its soil ; enough for
its inhabitants, but dissolution seems to mark
large portions for its own. In the western por-
tion and in the vicinity of the seas the land is
arable and populous. The eastern portion is a
pasture ground for the Turkomans. It has a
splendid history in connection with the Christian
and other faiths. Its population, once twenty-five
millions, now hardly exceeds seven millions, of
which two millions only are Christian.

There are two classes of Moslems here : those
who wander about, and those who are settled.
The settled tribes are descendants of the con-
querors, the Seljukian Turks. The Seljukian
is always spoken of with respect, for he has pre-
served his ancestral virtues, — dignity, courage,
loyalty and religious fervor. The Moslem in
Asia Minor looks upon Turkey in Europe only
as an encampment. At Broussa, Koniah and
other celebrated places in Asia Minor, is to
be found the true centre of the Mahometan em-
pire. Whatever may be thought of its political
or economical situation, the travellers whom I am
accustomed to meet, and who return from their
excursions into this wonderful land, bring back
stories overrunning with enthusiasm. They praise
the beauty of its scenery, the grandeur of its
mountains, the richness of its lands, the magni-

TAMERLANE, THE TARTAR. 305

tude of its forests, its rain-falls so copious, and its
rivers so large ; and above all its ancient monu-
ments and its strange village life heightened by the
unstinted hospitality of its people. Here in this
region is found the Valonia oak, one of the princi-
pal trees in Asia Minor. It not only produces an
acorn whose husk is used in tanning and which is
exported in considerable quantities, and produces
quite a revenue, but it gives to the landscape
many graces and beauties, of which the tourist is
not unobservant.

The Turks had accumulated enormous wealth at
their old capital of Broussa, in Asia Minor, before
Constantinople fell beneath the prowess of their
scimitar. When Tamerlane, the Tartar, struck the
Turkish power on the plains of Angora and made
the great Sultan, Bajazet, his prisoner, he found
such a quantity of treasure that the coins and pre-
cious stones were weighed by the oka, which, as
stated in a former chapter, is a Turkish measure
of nearly three pounds. We must remember, how-
ever, that this is merely tradition, and that every-
thing told of this extraordinary Tartar must be
received with some grains of allowance. Doubt-
less he shed more blood and made more trouble
upon the face of the earth during his thirty-six
years of reign than any other personage of his-
tory. The Alexanders, Hannibals, Caesars, At-
tillas, Charlemagnes and Napoleons, were harm-

3o6

THE PRINCES ISLES.

less as babes compared with this stalwart con-
queror and sanguinary scourge of the human
family.

How much of interest there is associated with
the history of Asia Minor! It might be called the
cradle and the grave of our race. Its very form
makes it a theatre of contention. Here are two
continents near to each other. Asia defiantly
thrusts her foot between two seas, and Asia
Minor becomes a battle ground where the tribes,
even of far-off plateaus of the continent, march
and countermarch to the conquest of the West.
Across these now placid waters Assyria and Per-
sia empty their hordes. Here Darius leads, over
his bridge of boats across the Bosphorus, seven
hundred thousand soldiers into Europe. His son
moves out of Persia into Cappadocia, which is at
the eastern end of Asia Minor, with an army in
which forty-six nations are represented ! Behold
them as they cross the Hellespont ! They are a
million of men. They march for the conquest of
Greece, but at set of sun " where are they?"
Alexander, too, marches over and encamps on
these historic shores. He resumes the march and
never stops in his conquering career until he
crosses the passes of the Himalayas. There he
moves down upon the rich lands of India, subdues
its princes and weeps for more worlds to conquer.
The Roman legions grew luxurious on the plains

ST. PAUL AMONG THE GENTILES. ^j

of Asia Minor after they made the East the prey of
their eagles. Never was there such a theatre of
war, conquest, spoil and splendor as Asia Minor !
The Balkan peninsula, between the Black Sea and
the ^Egean, bids fair to be a repetition of its his-
tory. What is Asia Minor now? In almost every
issue of the newspapers of Constantinople we read
of the Greek, Kurdish, Circassian and Turkish out-
laws. Brigandage makes it almost impossible to
travel over these historic and sacred regions with-
out a strong escort. Much depends upon the
governor of the province, as to whether the
tourist has safe conduct, or the missionary protec-
tion.

Asia Minor is not only celebrated for its ancient
wars and modern troubles, but its every province
is rich with the memories of St. Paul and his com-
panions. From Tarsus, where he was born, in
Cilicia ; from Aleppo to Antioch, across the Bay
of Scanderoon to Pamphylia, Lycia, Caria, Lydia,
Mysia, and the other mystical and musical names
of which the New Testament is so full, and where
Christian churches were early established, — there
is everywhere some memory of the great apostle
of the Gentiles, and some sign of the sufferings
and victories which finally made Asia Minor
the most profitable and prosperous part of the
Christian vineyard and the Byzantine empire. The
seven candlesticks of Asia shed from hence their

3°8

THE PRINCES ISLES.

refulgence into Macedonia and beyond into Eu-
rope. At Ephesus is still shown for Christian
veneration the cave of the "Seven Sleepers,"
and the holy dog which guarded them in their
more than Rip Van Winklian nap of two hundred
years.

It is a matter of regret that, owing to an un-
fortunate illness, I was unable to make a contem-
plated trip to Nicaea, Nicomedia and other places
of ecclesiastical celebrity along the shores of the
Gulf of Ismid. At one of the villages where we
were expected to land the people of all national-
ities had made great preparations to receive the
American Minister. The Moslem governor called
on our missionary, the Rev. Mr. Pierce, and asked
permission to ride with him to the landing to meet
and greet us. Mr. Pierce begged him not to make
any demonstration, as the visit was to be mere-
ly a quiet tour. But the village authorities insist-
ed that they would be guilty of inhospitable con-
duct if they did not show the respect which they
felt. As there was no telegraph to countermand
the news of our visit, the Governor, with all the
village magnates, and the Armenian clergy, went
with the Rev. Mr. Pierce to the landing. There
was a large cavalcade to escort us to their village.
Some five hundred, as I was informed, were on the
road at the entrance of the village to do us honor.
Moreover, the village streets were cleaned for the

CHALCEDON.

occasion, an event which the Rev. Dr. Dwight
informed me was unparalleled in the history of
that country.

The guide-books tell us very little about the
most interesting environment of Constantinople.
The most suggestive of its historic pleasure resorts,
next to the Hippodrome, with its serpentine col-
umn— which often gave Delphic responses when
it stood on the Greek island in its pagan days, —
are the precincts of Chalcedon and the shore which
runs eastward along the Propontis and from there
to Nicaea and Nicomedia. This shore is in
sight from the heights of Prinkipo. Along it
runs the railroad to Ismid. One of the most in-
teresting short tours, especially if you take a sail-
boat or a steam-launch, is along this shore. It is
not only celebrated for the ecclesiastical councils,
out of which our Christian creed came with em-
phasis and durability, but it is no less famous for
its early classic associations. Chalcedon lies in a
vast plain. That plain was once the rendezvous of
the troops which were wont to depart from Con-
stantinople on their Asiatic campaigns. It is in-
dented with beautiful bays. Near one of these
bays is the garden of Haider Pasha. It has a
shady fountain and a plantain grove. The foun-
tain bears a Greek name — Hermageros. Noth-
ing can exceed the beauty of this spot. I do
not see that its charm has been lost by having

3io

THE PRINCES ISLES.

Kadikeiii near by. This village literally means
" the place of the judge." It stands on the site of
the ancient Chalcedon, whose ruins are the remains
of structures in which were once heard the Grecian
oracles and Christian councils. One of the legends
of this place is that it was first settled by the
Greeks before even ancient Byzantium. At that
time some colonists came out from Greece to
found a new state. They consulted the oracle
at Delphos to know at what point they should
settle. The oracle said, " Opposite to the blind."
This was interpreted to mean, on the peninsula op-
posite Chalcedon. Chalcedon is opposite Stam-
boul. For, as it was argued, the founders must
have been blind to prefer Chalcedon and neglect
such unparalleled advantages as the waters of the
Golden Horn and the Bosphorus, which glorify
the present harbor of Constantinople.

There are many warlike stones about the tak-
ing of Chalcedon by the Persians. It was be-
sieged and mined by them. It has often been
taken since and devastated, alike by Greek, By-
zantine, Goth, Arabian, Persian and Turk. Beli-
sarius figures much in Greek history. Gibbon has
given him an immortality. Here is the spot
where his palace was erected at the end of his ser-
vice. Out of the remains of his palace has arisen
the finest structure in Stamboul, — the mosque of
Suleimanyie. Even the transient traveller cannot

ON THE WA Y TO NIC&A. ^ l j

be at a loss to fix this point, for there is a tower
and lighthouse near by, whose lights, at the sea-
son of Bairam, form a double crescent which is
reflected in the water. The promontories along
the shores were decorated in ancient times with
temples. In fact the whole littoral sweep from
the lighthouse to Pendik, from which the pilgrim
caravans still start for Mecca, is full of historic
interest.

The fourth GEcumenical council is known as
the Council of Chalcedon. This is therefore a
spot of ecclesiastical renown. It is now, however,
merely a railroad station. Here was once a
famous church. It was built by Constantine on
the site of the Temple of Apollo and demolished
after the fall of Constantinople. Its materials
served to finish one of the grand mosques of
the city. Now on this not neglected spot there is
heard the shriek of the locomotive as it moves
eastward on its way to Nicsea and Nicomedia, her-
alding a new gospel for the worshipper of mam-
mon ! It is not altogether modern and prosaic, for
doth not its path lead both to the glory and the
grave of Hannibal ! Not far from its track Belisar-
ius once cultivated his vineyards. I doubt if any-
one but myself has ever found the grave of Han-
nibal. I saw it in a vision — not of Patmos but of
Prinkipo ! He died in the neighborhood of what
is now the railroad station of Guebsehe ! No one

3I2

THE PRINCES ISLES.

in the neighborhood knows anything about the
tomb, or the Carthaginian. You will inquire in
vain for it. It is always a little further off ; in
fact it is an unattainable object, — a will-o-the-
wisp. There is an old ruined castle in the neigh-
borhood. This is often visited. It is Hannibal's
castle. It is not apocryphal ! It is not apoca-
lyptical. Its architecture belongs to the Middle
Ages, and it is not very worthy of that. Its name
makes it a standing anachronism. Its ruins are
near some thermal waters, which the emperors
of Byzantium were accustomed to visit with their
families. We can lave in these waters, but Hannibal,
alas ! although he perished at the ancient Lybissa,
and although the spot is certainly located at the
famous camel-stables of the caravan times, before
the railroad came, Hannibal and his tomb, I fear,
are forever lost to local habitation.

There are evidences at that place of many
tombs. Near by is a splendid mosque which re-
minds the traveller of a mosque of Broussa. Here
not .unfrequently some traveller of wild archaeo-
logical genius rushes with frantic delight to a large
tomb with a domed roof, hoping that he has dis-
covered the long-lost grave of Hannibal; but it
only turns out to be the burial place of a Han-
oum — a woman of the good old time, who was the
mother of forty daughters ! The daughters are
buried on either side of her ; twenty in each grave.

THE ANCIENT CITY. ~ j ,

Must this search for Hannibal and his tomb go
on forever?

Nicaea, the once proud capital of Bithynia, is
a more interesting than healthy spot. It was
founded not by Alexander, but by another son of
Philip of Macedon. It was on a lovely plain. It
is described by an ancient historian from the stand-
point of a stone placed in the gymnasium whence
its four gates could be seen. In vain do the
English and other tourists, who go there to shoot
birds, seek this central stone. Antiquarian
travellers have visited it, not so much for its clas-
sical associations, as for the religious struggles
of the early church which occurred here. The
city was beautified upon a Grecian model, and the
Romans gave it some utilitarian improvements, as
was their wont. It was the capital of a proud
nation ; but like other Eastern capitals, it had its
distresses by earthquake, and its sieges by sol-
diers. For some time it stood a barrier against
the progress of Mahometan invaders, and many a
Saracen and Turk fell weltering in their blood
before its Christian defenders. It was not until
the latter part of the eleventh century that the
Turks obtained possession of it. Soon after a
crusade changed its condition; for within ten
years it fell before the Grecian host, which in-
vested it by water and land. Gibbon tells the
story that numbers of boats were transported

314

THE PRINCES ISLES.

from the Sea of Marmora to the lake Ascanius.
These were filled with soldiers, but before the
attack the banner of the Greek emperor floated
above the towers. It then became the Greco-
Roman capital of Western Asia. But when the
Seljukian Orchan — the ancestor of the present
Sultan — arose, the city and the rich treasures col-
lected within its walls fell a prey to the Turk.
Thereafter Nicaea became known by the less ven-
erable and less impressive name of Iznik.

There is but one Christian church remaining to
recall the ancient creed and glory of Nicaea. But
as long as the Nicene Creed — which was here first
promulgated — is repeated by the faithful it will be
a bond between all Christians and the Eastern
Church. That Nicene Creed is recited in its orig-
inal tongue by the peasants of Greece. In Russia
the great bell of the Kremlin tower sounds during
the time its words are being chanted. This creed
is repeated aloud in the presence of the assembled
people by the Czars at their coronation. It was
at the first council of Nicaea that the fathers — who
are so often quoted — met to form this summary of
Christian faith against Arianism, and to discuss
the supremacy of the Bible, the power of the
Pope and the Church, the Sacraments, Original
Sin, Predestination, Justification, and above all the
question upon which they differed most, the doc-
trine of the Incarnation. This latter question was

THE NICENE CREED. r -

set at rest by the Nicene Creed. The council met
in the month of June, A.D. 325. Its creed was
signed by three hundred and eighteen bishops.
It is substantially the same creed which Christian-
ity has accepted at its various councils and con-
ventions held during the progress of time, and
which it declares to-day. It was confirmed, slight-
ly changed, by the council of Constantinople, A.D.
381. It is said to be worked in brilliants on
the robes of the highest church dignitaries of
Moscow. Notwithstanding all the efforts for har-
mony which this creed inspired, the unity of the
Church of Rome with that of Greece, or rather
with that of Russia now, or with that of the Church
of England, or with either of them, though often
attempted, has never been consummated. The
creed remains ; but the exact -place or building in
which the famous council assembled has not yet
been ascertained. Whether it was in the church,
which gave a foundation to the ruined mosque of
Orchan, or in the Christian temple, of which there
are some remains, no one can tell.

This country of Asia Minor speaks in every
broken pillar and every fragment of stone, not
only of the sojournings and teachings of the great
apostle of the Gentiles, but it recalls those early
days of fiery zeal when the fathers of the Church
met to crush out error, and to perfect a creed
which survives through the lapse of centuries.

3 1 6 THE PRINCES ISLES.

The creed remains, vital and mystic, but the
swamps and thickets and lakes around the an-
cient city of Nicaea mark a place of desolation-
fit haunt at the advent of the hunting season
for — what ? For the hunters of Constantinople,
in search of duck and woodcock, and sometimes of
the wild boar.

Nicomedia, another city of Asia Minor, was
built in 264 B.C. by Nicomedas, king of Bithynia.
He called on the Gauls to help him in some of his
wars. There are some sweet Gallic accents yet
observable in the dialects spoken along the shore
of Marmora. Nicomedia was not only great as a
city, but greater as a Roman capital. Its great-
ness has been handed down to us by Roman his-
torians. Here Pliny was pro-consul. Here he
resided and wrote letters to the Emperor Trajan,
describing the monuments, advantages and impor-
tance of the city and its surroundings. It is
thought that Pliny first started the idea of con-
necting the waters of the lake of Sabaridja with
the Gulf of Nicomedia by means of a canal, and
thus cause the waters of this lake to join those of
the river Sakaria, which empty into the Black Sea.
Herodotus — or his annotator — discusses this pro-
ject, and I received many letters from American
students propounding many difficult engineering
problems about this important matter.

Dioclesian embellished Nicomedia with a taste

EARL Y NICOMEDIA. ^ j ~

and expense that were unparalleled. It became
only inferior to Rome, Alexandria and Antioch
in extent and population in classic days. It is
celebrated for one of the first general edicts of
that emperor commanding the persecution of the
Christians. This was in the fourth century.
Gibbon relates many interesting details of the
martyrdoms of that early day, and especially one
holocaust at the end of the fourth century, when
a Christian emperor, who was an Arian, caused a
ship containing eighty bishops, who belonged to
the orthodox faith, to be set on fire in the harbor
of Nicomedia. They perished for their creed.
Here was the home of Constantine. Along with
its rival Nicaea it underwent many sieges, but it
is principally renowned, along with Nicsea, for
being the seat of early Christian councils. Now
like Nicsea, it is principally attractive to the hunt-
ers, who go out with shot-guns from Constanti-
nople to kill snipe and other game in and around
its swamps. The flamingo and the stork are com-
mon upon its ways and house-tops, but all the
interest left in this capital seems to surround
the great soldier of Carthage — Hannibal, whose
stern parent was very far from being one of the
Christian fathers.

CHAPTER XX.

BROUSSA, ITS ENTERPRISE AND HISTORY MOUNT

OLYMPUS.

BROUSSA is a city of Asia Minor. It stands in
superb contrast with the relict cities of ecclesias-
tical glory. It is a thriving business city, with a
history worthy of the founders of the Ottoman
Empire, who are here buried. I have been at
Broussa, but I never surmounted the top of Mount
Olympus. It is becoming quite a summer pastime,
which our American friends of Robert College-
including those of the gentler sex — enjoy. They
camp out upon the heights and enjoy the prospect,
and inhale health. Mrs. Washburne, the wife of
the president of Robert College, gives us a descrip-
tion of her experience the past summer in tent life
upon Mount Olympus.

If from the heights of Prinkipo so much can be
seen, how much more from the top of Olympus,
which is seventy-five hundred feet high ? From
its lofty dome can be viewed the Sea of Marmora,
with its islands, gulfs and promontories, on one
side, and the Dardanelles and the countries around
it, on the other.

PROSPECT FROM MT. OL YMPUS. 3 l y

The eye takes in the lakes on the east, where
were situated Nicomedia and Nicsea, and the
mountains of Bosachan to the west. Such a wide
expanse of water ; such magnificent ranges of
mountains, and such a lofty standpoint give a
ground of vantage that elevates the observer far
above the turmoils of our little world. And what
a land ! What seas are overlooked from this
more than Alpine height ! Here one stands
wrapped in thought, not alone because the scenes
below have been illustrated in crimson letters by
Persian, Greek, Roman and Turkish armies ; not
merely that Broussa — the most interesting Mos-
lem city next to Constantinople — which lies at
the f6ot of the mountain, was the capital of the
first Turkish empire, and still retains the bodies of
its early heroes and Sultans, but also that from
this elevated point can be seen what is now the
ignoble point of Ismid, where was once the proud
capital of Bithynia, the famed city of Nicomedia.
It was once the residence of emperors ; but now
it is only a memory ! We have not to ascend
Olympus to see it. It is almost within the range
of our vision from the hills of Prinkipo.

It would be a pleasant thing to compare our
Mysean Olympus with the Olympus which Homer
has peopled and glorified with the divinities.
Both mountains are within the jurisdiction of
our legation. The Olympus which the won-

320

THE PRINCES ISLES.

drous mythology of Greece gave to the world
is just over the boundary of Greece. But it is
also within the precincts of Macedonia, which is
in Turkey. My servitor, Pierre, has been on the
heights of the Grecian Olympus with a company of
engineers. He was their purveyor. He knows
all about the monastery of Saint Dionysius, before
which and its ministers the light of Apollo has
shone and the eagle of Jove has flown. He is
acquainted with the guides, who are known as
" clefts," called so, perhaps, because they are famil-
iar wTith the rocks. Having ascended the classic
mountain, he gives me an account of its holy oaks,
catalpas, arbutuses, pines and firs, and the glory of
the adjacent mountains. From its summit one can
overlook the sea, as to which Pierre becomes elo-
quent in his description. He forgets his French
and other alien tongues in telling the glory of the

" Long line of foam, the jewelled chain,
The largesse of the ever-giving main."

He relapses into his own language of Croatia,
with whose coast he is as familiar as I am now
with the inlets and seas about Prinkipo. Within
view of Olympus are the shoreless cliffs of
Ossa.

How glorious and great is the peak of the clas-
sic Olympus ! To the north is the level plain
diversified with woodlands. On the opposite side

THE CLASSIC OLYMPUS. 32 1

of the water are the promontories, one after an-
other— Athos, Tomina — and beyond these some
of the islands of the ^Egean lift themselves
out of the blue waves into the beautiful blue
sky.

This wonderful home of the gods, this Grecian
Olympus, which fills such a grand page in our my-
thology and rhetoric, is now undignified by many
saw-mills turned by its obedient streams. Thus
are the naiads enslaved and the dryads dishev-
elled of their leafy glories, while the waters plash
and the wheel turns, and the saws eat their eager
way into the timber that is sent thence to Smyrna,
to Constantinople and even to Egypt. Non
constat but I am now sitting in a chair whose
ligneous fibre grew under the very shadow of the
throne of Zeus. I revert to my callow college
days. I ask: Where are Venus and Mars?
Where the glories of that wonderful company of
gods, with Jove above them all by his great
looks and power imperial ? Gone into the
dim yet deathless traditions of the past, which
made this mountain so weird in its witchery
and sacred in its power over the poetic Greek
imagination. What poet of the future will sing
"Olympus Lost" ?

The classic Olympus has now come down to this :
that the most conspicuous tradition of our Ho-
meric mount connects itself with a bear. The

322 THE PRINCES ISLES.

legend is told by the monks of St. Dionysius.
When that saintly father was ploughing on the
mountain side, he was forced to leave his ox
with the plough in the furrow. While away, a
bear came along and ate up his ox. The saint on
his return discovered what had happened. He—
No, he did not curse and swear, but he was very
mad with the bear, and he determined to punish
bruin in a way not to his taste. With a power that
belonged almost to the supreme Zeus himself, he
seized and harnessed the larcenous ox-lifting bruin.
Forever after that bear had to drag that plough.
He became quite tame and grizzly in the hon-
orable service of Ceres. When the family of
bears found what his saintship had done with their
fellow, they incontinently turned tail and fled the
Mount Olympus, just as the snakes scurried from
Ireland when they heard that St. Patrick had
landed.

While the Macedonian Olympus soars high in
the clouds of classic lore, it cannot compare,
except in the number of its peaks, with our own
Mysean Olympus. The classic Olympus has a
triple crown. Olympus of Asia Minor has but
two summits. Although the classic Olympus has
a name which signifies the " Shining One," and
is called the white, the dazzling, and gleaming
mount by the Greek poets, it may as well be
stated in prose that no part of this Homeric

THE SERENE HEIGHTS.

Olympus is within the limit of perpetual snow ;
while our Asian Olympus never fails to shine with
its white perennial crown ! No one can gainsay
that the surroundings of the classic Olympus are
something magnificent. Its effect is grand. Here
is Ossa.. It too has magnificent views. It com-
mands a wide expanse of sea beneath its aspect.
Olympus is nine thousand feet high ; but its
weak point is that the country on one side is
almost wholly excluded from view. This is
owing to a double line of summits. Scholars
who have ascended its classic eminence find it
no unworthy position for the gods It has a
serener ether than belongs to our lower nature,
and there is an odor of sanctity around its
monastery. The early Greek believed that its
atmosphere was never disturbed by wind, storm,
snow or clouds. It was always divine. The
clouds below its tranquil summit were the beau-
tiful gates of heaven to the sensitive Greek.
When Jove rolled them back, Apollo gave them
hue and beauty. What a palace was that of
Jupiter! What a council -chamber that of the
other gods ! What a course for their chariots and
races on the summit of the mountain !

But to enter these mystic scenes and precincts
is to go beyond the limits prescribed for this vol-
ume. Lest I awake the ire of Homer or his
students, I will not further make comparison be-

THE PRINCES ISLES.

tween the two Olympian heights. The best I can
do is to come down from these heights and flights
and describe things as they are to-day in this
ancient wonderland. If we were to describe the
various peaks upon the classic Olympus and the
legends connected with them, the classic mountain
might be reduced to a lower plane than that of the
Olympus which the learned regard with so much
pedantic devotion.

Shakespeare has made the scenes about our clas-
sic Olympus interesting. His genius seized Pelion
and piled it on Ossa in a wild way. Ossa is a
smaller rock than Olympus; but what huge rocks
they are ! When the vale of Tempe opens to the
sea between them, it is a picture of Claude, repre-
senting beauty at the feet of strength !

Along the coast of the ^Egean, Pelion lies
near Ossa, and along with Mount Olympus they

look across the sea to the scene of the great

i
Trojan epic.

It is a custom, even to the present day, among
the Grecian Christian women when they are
enceinte, to slide down one of the smooth places
on the side of the classic mountain. It is a sign
of a happy deliverance. And as they slide, they
sing a peculiar song in Greek. It has reference
to their future destiny, or that of the expected
child.

There is still another eminence nearer our home,

A TURKISH MOUNTAIN.

325

though lesc classic and historic than either of the
Olympii. It is a Turkish Dagh.

One of the best points of observation for a
view of the landscape in and around Constanti-
nople is the Mount Bougourlow. It rises only
a few miles behind Scutari on the Asiatic side.
When you climb to its summit the panorama of the
Bosphorus and the Sea of Marmora is spread be-
neath you. This mountain is not only frequented
by strangers who desire to survey the prospect,
but by the Mahometan women, who go there in
good weather to pass the day under its pleasant
trees. They go in little companies. Sometimes
the harem goes. The women watch their chil-
dren at play ; they chat ; they listen to itinerant
music ; and they have their picnic of grapes, bread
and sherbet, topped off with a smoke of the fra-
grant weed.

The ascent to this mountain is by no means
easy. The roads are hardly passable. The prin-
cipal vehicle is the arabi — a lumbering carriage
drawn by oxen. But it makes up in gaudy
finery what it lacks in speed. There are many
little plateaus to break the ascent of the moun-
tain. Here you can rest. On each plateau are
seen families of both Armenians and Turks —
resting on their lazy route upward. The situa-
tion is so high, the sea breeze so grateful, the
temperature so refreshing, and the dealers in cof-

326

THE PRINCES ISLES.

fee, water, sherbet, pastry and confectionery are
so numerous that the spectacle upon the top
of the mountain is as festive as the wide-spread
panorama below is sublime. The women sit
upon the grass under their sun-shades. They
are clad in their varicolored and shining silk
dresses. Some recline beneath the shade of the
sycamores and plane-trees. The gayety and nov-
elty are enhanced by a bevy of Greek girls. You
easily recognize them. They are known by their
diadems of braided hair. They amuse themselves
with the dance in movements which require little
exertion, but which are full of the poetry of mo-
tion. These performances you may see repeated
at the " Sweet Waters."

This scene is seductive with attractions, but
your ascent to the mountain is for another pur-
pose. Here the eye roams over the prospect
of the great city, with its domes and minarets
upon the west. On the east is a vast plateau
or prairie. Over it runs the old road of the
caravans. It leads out of Scutari into the very
heart of Asia. On the north is the Black Sea
and old Cimmeria, — the land of blackness and
blockheads! On the south is our own island
home of Prinkipo flanked by Bothnia and Troy.
Turn where you will every prospect pleases.
Not the least of the delights is the circle im-
mediately around you. Here are the Zigani play-

FOUNDERS OF TURKISH EMPIRE. ^2*J

ing upon the fiddle. They chant ballads in their
strange gypsy dialect. Here pleasure, innocence
and gayety abound. The groups are as joyous as
one could wish to see. One feels tempted to re-
main here long As the company descend the
mountain shouts of wild laughter from the arabis
answer to each new plunge of the awkward vehicles.
Horsemen dash down as recklessly as if they were
on a level. Everything bespeaks a scene entirely
Asiatic and far removed from the Europe which
is in view from the summit. In such glimpses we
catch rare views of the harmonious blendings of
Greek and Turkish life, suggestive of the blend-
ings of the two races which gave so much force
and romance to the Mahometan empire in Europe.

The founder of the Ottoman dynasty, Othman,
was an extraordinary person. He left not only a
great name, but a sovereignty over the greater
part of little Asia. Starting with an army of only
416 horsemen, he increased it to 6000. When he
died he left neither gold nor silver behind, only a
spoon and a salt-cellar, an embroidered caftan, a
new turban, some flags in red muslin, a stable full
of horses, some yokes of oxen for the laborers of
the farm, and a choice flock of sheep. These
sheep were the ancestors to the imperial flocks
which were fed at the foot of Mount Olympus,
and this man was the ancestor of the imperial
rulers of the great Ottoman empire.

Orkhan was his second son and his successor.

PRINCES ISLES.

He had great skill in ornamentation and evidently
was romantically inclined, for the buildings which
he caused to be erected are covered with poetical
inscriptions. Whenever he founded a college he
also established a soup kitchen. The villages
which are called after his name are numerous.
His reign was unsullied either by barbarity or
violence. He is known as the Numa of the Otto-
mans. What I wish to remark in relation to this
family is this : Their tombs at Broussa are noted
in history. The munificence of these princes to-
ward Broussa has its monuments in the chari-
table institutions which they erected. Niloufer
Khatoun was the first wife of the Sultan Orkhan.
She founded one hundred and eleven charitable
institutions. Some of them are in Nicaea. She
passed the end of her life at that place in quiet
retirement, and was always regarded as a most
excellent and pious princess.

It may be thought that the Sultans are not per-
mitted to marry outside of their own religion.
They are not so restricted in choice. It is a fact
that the strength and glory of the Ottoman dy-
nasty has been sustained by the marriage of its
Sultans with Christian women. The virtuous
princess Niloufer, whose body lies near the walls
of Broussa. was a Christian, and she is in such
contrast with Roxolana, another Christian wife
of a subsequent emperor, that it is well to regard
the one and discard the other.

CHAPTER XXI.

EUROPEAN SHORE SAN STEFANO AND THE TREATY.

SAN STEFANO is always in sight on a clear day
from the Princes Islands. It leaves one indelible
historic impression. It is connected with the war
which began in the autumn of 1877 between Rus^
sia and Turkey. Of that war and its various for-
tunes I shall speak in a more elaborate volume
than this — "The Diversions of a Diplomat"—
which I contemplate publishing. The diplomacy
in which Lord Salisbury — who was the agent of
Lord Beaconsfield — took so .conspicuous a part at
that time, is associated with the very room where
I now pen this chapter. Here, no doubt, Salis-
bury dreamt dreams and saw visions. The device
of Midhad Pacha — then grand vizier — to disarm
the hostility of the European congress or concert
by proclaiming a liberal constitution ; the adhesion
of England to Turkey; the isolation of the Czar;
the crossing of the Danube, upon which the Great
White Father of all the Russians invoked the
blessing of God as he gave the order to advance ;
the move on the Balkans ; the cries against the in-
fidels ; the sacred hymns of the old Greek Church

329

THE PRINCES ISLES.

heralding the Slavonic army — all these are a part
of that conflict which had its consummation and
mise en seine at San Stefano. In that movement
the Russians had two hundred and twenty thou-
sand men, and the Turks about the same number.
In soldierly bearing and qualities these armies
were nearly equal. They were equally enthusiastic
and brave. In arms the Turks were, perhaps,
better off than the Russians. Three hundred
thousand American rifles, the Peabody-Martini
gun which is still to be seen in the hands of the
Turkish soldier, had been stacked for the emer-
gency in the barracks of Constantinople. Iron-
clads filled the Golden Horn. Germany supplied
the Turk with cannon which were as much supe-
rior to the old bronze guns, as the Martini rifle was
in advance of the old Revolutionary musket of our
fathers. The Russians were, perhaps, superior in
cavalry. The Cossack was then thought to have
no equal. This was before the day when the
Arab of the desert with spear and horse broke the
squares of the flower of Albion's infantry in the
Soudan. But the fighting was not to be done on
horse-back. The Turks were in their own coun-
try. They had the mountain range of the Bal-
kans, so celebrated in military history from the
time when Darius crossed the Bosphorus to fight
the Scythians. Bulgaria then, as now, was the
objective point. Generals Gourko and Skoboleff

WAR WITH RUSSIA. 33!

led the Russian armies. As the people of many
of the towns through which the Russians passed
were adherents of the Greek Church, they wel-
comed the Russians as deliverers. Priests, monks
and girls met the Slav soldiers with flowers and
benedictions.

The Turks were aroused. Their armies were
concentrated upon the Balkans. All Europe be-
held their magnificent fighting at the Shipka Pass.
Plevna became almost another Thermopylae in
the way of the advancing Slav. The Czar himself
soon found his presence necessary to inspire the
stolid Russian soldier.

The advance was easy, until all at once the
Shipka Pass was found to be defended by the
Turks, and Plevna made its heroic resistance !
In spite of the gallant fighting on the part of
the Turks, the Russians found themselves south
of the Balkans. Was there a panic in Constan-
tinople ? Was there terror at the Porte and dis-
may in Dolma-Batche and the palaces ? Was
there a packing up of archives? Was there
to be another hegira of the Mohammedan and
another exodus of the Jews ? All this has been
said.

The intensity of religious emotion was invoked
in the rank and file of the Russian army. The
splendid ritual of the Greek Church was called
in to take the place of the drum and fife. With

352

THE PRINCES ISLES.

uncovered head, the sad chants peculiar to the
Greek Church gave solemnity to the scene. It
was no summer holiday, — that fight in the Bal-
kans. At length Osman Pacha, who so long
withstood the skill of Todleben, surrenders with
his army. Plevna falls. It is the turning-point of
the war. The Russians push down toward Con-
stantinople. With an audacity unequalled they
press on towards the Bulgarian capital, Sofia,
where for the first time since A.D. 1434, a Chris-
tian army is seen.

"On to Philippopolis ! " — "On to Adrianople !"
The victorious Russians press on, until on the
last day of January, 1878, the minarets of Con-
stantinople appear.

The passage of the Balkans was a wonderful
achievement. It was a terrible struggle amidst
the storms of the winter season. Even as I now
write, in this balmy clime, and so near the Balkan
range, the snow is blocking its passes.

How far did that war limit the power of Tur-
key ? By what miracle did the Caliph of all
Mahometanism survive the conflict of race and
religion ? This is not the place to seek the casus
belli, or to criticise the strategy by which the Rus-
sian army reached the plains of San Stefano. On
the memorable third of March, A.D. 1878, the little
village, whose white houses now appear upon my
vision, was the scene, after a month of negotia-

TREA TY OF SAN STEFANO. 3 ^ 3

tion, of the celebration of the peace by what is
known as the " Treaty of San Stefano."

This village is not without some American asso-
ciations. It is the place where Commodore Porter,
of " Essex " fame, first fixed the American Lega-
tion. It is situated on the Sea of Marmora, and
within six miles of the Golden Gate, from whose
towers I have gazed upon the grand campaign,
where the vast Russian army was encamped.

But it is most distinguished as the place where
the treaty between Russia and Turkey was made.
That treaty was made by General Ignatieff. It
was set aside afterwards by the treaty of Berlin,
owing to the energetic protest of the Powers.
The protest was backed by the British Navy,
which was anchored between the islands of Halki
and Prinkipo, in the same .blue waters through
which I am accustomed to glide in our American
navy of the Orient, the steam-launch "Sunset."

It was thought when the Russian army came
in sight of the minarets of Stamboul that the rule
of the Turk in Europe was forever ended, — that
his encampment was broken up and that he would
retreat into Asia. Judging from the enormous
number of refugees who fled before the advanc-
ing Russian army, this was then a reasonable ex-
pectation.

There were other Powers, however, to be dealt
with before Russia could be permitted to fly her

THE PRINCES ISLES.

flag from the dome of St. Sophia. The English
fleet passed up the Dardanelles. There, on the
plains of San Stefano, were rolled back the waves
of Russian invasion which almost swept over the
walls of Constantinople !

The war, not to speak of the treaty, which was
more or less abrogated afterwards at Berlin, had
the effect of greatly circumscribing Turkish do-
minion in Europe. It severed Bosnia, Servia,
Herzegovina, Montenegro, Roumania and Bulga-
ria, and portions of Thessaly from the empire.
But the Moslem domination over a large portion
of Turkey in Europe still remains. Judging by
recent events, the power of the Turk is stronger
to-day than it was ten years ago.

Although the village of San Stefano has a place
in diplomatic history, it consists of only about
twenty or thirty houses. These houses are large.
They are owned by wealthy Greek merchants who
inhabit them during the summer. When the
Russians were preparing to move on Constanti-
nople, these houses were occupied by the Grand
Duke Nicholas and his staff. There is a quay
upon the Sea of Marmora upon which the village
fronts. During the winter and spring of 1878
there could be heard at these Princes Islands,
floating across the waters, the music of the Rus-
sian bands. It is not unlikely that this alien mu-
sic was heard by the young Sultan, who had only

INCIDENTS OF THE RUSSIAN SIEGE. ^$$

a year or two before that time come into power.

The Russians remained at San Stefano during
the armistice. The officers, and after a while
some of the men, were allowed to visit Constanti-
nople. It is said that they behaved themselves
in a most exemplary manner. Certainly they
pleased the merchants of the bazaars. It is reck-
oned that six millions of rubles in gold, a sum
equivalent to $4,600,000, were then paid into the
shops by the Russians. During this time al-
though there was a mercantile entente cordiale,
the treaty hung fire. The Russians became impa-
tient at the dilatoriness of the Turks in signing the
treaty. The 3rd of March rolled around ; it was
the anniversary of the Czar's accession ; and the
negotiations were abruptly ended. At one o'clock
in the afternoon the troops were drawn up as for
parade. The horses of the Grand Duke and his
staff were saddled. Still the Turks delayed to
sign the treaty. Couriers dashed fleetly between
the house of the Grand Duke and that in which
were the negotiators — Ignatieffand Savfet Pasha.
At last the Russian menace /was heeded. The in-
tended attack upon the city was turned into a
" Review," and the army was informed that the
war had ended.

It has lately transpired that, when the Russian
army was near Constantinople, Count Schouvaloff
telegraphed to the Czar that England would not

336

THE PRINCES ISLES.

interfere with the occupation of the city by the
Russians, provided no attempts were made by the
Russians to seize Gallipoli and blockade the iron-
clads within the Golden Horn. The Czar trusted
to Schouvaloff. He was the ambassador at Lon-
don. He believed that the city would be occu-
pied without British intervention. It is alleged
that on the receipt of this dispatch the Czar
telegraphed to General Gourko at San Stefano
commanding the troops to march into and oc-
cupy the city. Of course, the dispatch was in ci-
pher ; but it could not reach San Stefano without
passing through Turkish hands. It is said that
the Turks so transposed the ciphers that when
the telegram was received by Gourko it was
utterly unintelligible. The general had all the
shrewdness of his army at work upon the dis-
patch,— but in vain. Thus, two most momentous
days passed by ; and the British cabinet meanwhile
were advised by the Turkish minister at London
of the peril. The British cabinet immediately
directed the minister at St. Petersburg to state to
the Czar that the occupation of the city would be
regarded as a casus belli. The result of the curt
dispatch was the treaty and not the occupation.

This remarkable statement is vouched for by Dr.
Blowitz, the Paris correspondent of the London
Times. " Upon what a slender thread hang ever-
lasting things !" How it ended, we know. The

HAPPY ACCORD.

337

Grand Duke telegraphed to the Czar the same
night that the great and holy mission which he
had assumed, of liberating the Christians from the
Mussulman yoke, had been accomplished. There-
upon preparations were made to re-establish the
old diplomatic relations at the Muscovite and Ot-
toman capitals. Thereupon the Grand Duke and
his suite danced the Cracovienne on the marble
pavements of Beylerbey ; not as a conqueror, but
as a guest of the Sultan !

CHAPTER XXII.

PRINKIPO ITS GREEK AND OTHER WOMAN.

IN a former chapter I have stated that Mur-
ray's guide-book gives it out that the women of
Prinkipo are the most beautiful in the world. I
am ready to believe that Murray, on this topic, is
nearly, if not absolutely, veracious. I will not say
that every one is a Miranda or a Una, or even a
Helen ; for there are many females on this isl-
and who are neither youthful nor attractive. But,
according to the best standards of taste, there are
more beautiful women here than I have ever seen
among the same number in any other part of the
world. Perhaps it is because they are modelled
upon the eclectic principle of the ancient Greek
artist who, to make one perfect form, selected from
many beauties the conspicuous loveliness of each.
The Greek blood- upon this island is of a purer
strain than can be found upon the mainland of
Greece. This is also the case in the Cyclades
and other Grecian islands nearer the ancient
capital of art and genius. The classic costumes
are not quite the mode of Prinkipo, but they still
remain the fashion in the inland of the Greek pen-

338

GREEK WOMAN FROM THE INTERIOR.

CLASSIC GREEK MODELS. 339

insula and many of the islands of the /Egean.
Now and then, here in Prinkipo, you may see young
Greek girls dressed in European style, but seldom
without retaining the jacket of embroidered silk
and the coiffure, which remind you of the an-
cient costume. The chiselled features of these
young graces show the classic model. Greece is
now best represented in her old colonial depend-
encies. In the islands the living models of Phid-
ias, Praxiteles and Lysippus are by no means rare.
Whatever changes the latest fashions of Paris
may make, they do not affect the graceful classic
dressing of the hair. It is still parted in waves,
just as we see it in the antiques with which every
archaeologist is familiar. These waving bands
flow over the temple on each side and are encir-
cled by a large braid forming a sort of crown. I
am not prepared to say that these braids are al-
ways genuine. Their different shades of color
suggest a suspicion of the ancient as well as mod-
ern art. Nor am I prepared to discriminate very
greatly between womankind, in grace of form and
movement. Still one would have to be blind not
to see in the evening balcony-groups of Prinkipo
many a beauty whose very pose suggests the clas-
sic type. Even the touch of the finger to the
forehead in repose — " like one who with a pleased
look leans upon a closed book " — gives a serenity,

THE PRINCES ISLES.

proportionateness and beauty altogether unique
and Hellenic, and rarely seen elsewhere.

Visitors who write about Turkey more fre-
quently go into raptures over the Turkish woman
than over her Greek sister. Is it because the
beauty of Turkish women is only partly revealed ?
The best writer upon the Orient whom I have
read, " Eothen," is an exception to this rule. He
seems to have been more enamored of the beauti-
ful descendants of the old Ionian race, whom he
found along the shores of Asia Minor and in its
splendid cities of Beyrout and Smyrna. But his
picture of the Smyrniote lady is somewhat dim, as
if he were under a spell. He sees Greek beau-
ties everywhere in these cities, even in the humblest
mud cottages. They are all attired with magnifi-
cence— " their classic heads are crowned with scar-
let, and loaded with jewels, or coins of gold — the
whole wealth of the wearers." Thus far he writes
with considerable fidelity, for the Greek woman
wears her dowry or fortune upon her person. It
is an investment made for safety, as well as adorn-
ment. It has its convenience also, for the suitor,
instead of going to a public office to ascertain, from
the will of her father or the record of public taxes,
the value of her estate, can, while he admires the
contour of his mistress's head, reckon it therefrom.
When " Eothen " gazes long and longingly at the
features of the Greek he finds some artificiality.

RHAPSODY OF TOURISTS.

341

" Their features," he says, " are touched with a
savage pencil, which hardens the outline of eyes
and eyebrows, and lends an unnatural fire to the
stern, grave looks with which they pierce your
brain." Evidently he is becoming more or less
inflamed, for he says further on : " Endure their
fiery eyes as best you may and ride on slowly and
reverently, for facing you from the side of the
transom that looks longwise through the street,
you see the one glorious shape transcendent in its
beauty ; you see the massive braid of hair as it
catches a touch of light on its jetty surface — and
the broad, calm, angry brow — the large black eyes,
deep-set, and self-relying like the eyes of a con-
queror, with their rich shadows of thought lying
darkly around them, — you see the thin fiery nos-
tril, and the bold line of the chin and throat, dis-
closing all the fierceness and all the pride, pas-
sion and power that can live along with the rare
womanly beauty of those sweetly turned lips."

This rhapsody comes from a man whose travels
through the Orient were of a most sedate and
philosophic quality, and who is quoted after fifty
years as no other writer upon these lands has
been quoted. Evidently this gifted writer went
clean daft upon his inspiring theme. What a
climax he makes in his description of the Greek
beauties ! He falls into an ecstasy when he says :
" But then there is a terrible stillness in this breath-

342

THE PRINCES ISLES.

ing image ; it seems like the stillness of a savage
that sits intent, and brooding day by day, upon
some one fearful scheme of vengeance, but yet
more like, it seems, to the stillness of an immortal,
whose will must be known, and obeyed without
sign or speech. Bow down ! Bow down, and
adore the young Persephone, transcendent Queen
of Shades ! "

What should "Eothen" have said when he en-
countered, as he often did, the genuine girl of the
desert ; not in the palace or harem, but in the tent,
surrounded by the associations which gave to the
East its sweetest lyrics. Sometimes such an Arab
girl is known to sing her songs from native in-
spiration. One of these songs echoes in my mem-
ory as it is sighed rather than sung beside the foun-
tains of Damascus. It is a melancholy strain, but it
has the essence of contrast and patriotism, which is
the spirit of poetry. She praises her russet suit of
camel's-hair as dearer to her than the trappings of
a queen ; the humble tent as better than the tow-
ers and halls of the splendor around ; the frolicsome
colt as more beauteous than the gorgeous mule
of the pasha ; the barking of the watch-dog as a
sweeter sound than the melody of the lute ; and,
as a climax, the rustic youth, unspoiled by art,
poor but free, with whom she will roam the desert,
though all the pampered sons of wealth should
seek to woo her from his love.

BOUQUET OF ORIENTAL BEAUTIES. 343

Closely assimilated with the Grecian woman in
beauty, and having each her own peculiar loveli-
ness, is the Armenian, Persian, Hebraic and Otto-
man woman. All are, in one word, of Oriental
type. Artists have portrayed the large black
eye, its languid lustre and liquid splendor ; the
heavenly arch of the brow, and the delicate soft-
ness and smoothness of the skin which tell of the
bath and its constant use. But no one can picture
the beauties of these Oriental women. The rose,
the pearl, the alabaster, are but feeble symbols of
their loveliness. Their courtly ease, low sweet
voice, innocent jocund laugh, and the honeyed talk,
make a poem of enchantment surpassing the sensu-
ous imagination of Keats. It may be that the Ar-
menian women are of the earth and earthy ; but
their graces betoken the nearness of their country
to the Garden of Eden, and the absence of the after-
math which sin brought from thence into the world.
The Turkish woman does not dress as gaudily
as the Persian, nor does she bloom so much in
the fictitious glories of painted womanhood. She
has her own mode of pencilling the eyebrow
and arranging the veil which defies competition.
But when called for an out-door promenade in a
long and graceless feridjie she does not show that
elegance which one might possibly see if he were
allowed within the harem. The contrast between
the indoor dress, both in Pefsia and here farther

344

THE PRINCES ISLES.

west, and the walking attire, must strike every
traveller who has had the privilege to draw it
from life.

The more characteristic charms of the Circas-
sian, while she may be passing fair, consist of a
tall and well formed figure, dark eye-lashes and
bright chestnut hair ; but sometimes that element
of the old Tartaric strain — a high cheek bone or
wide mouth, is too prominent a feature. Her
charms are more or less concealed by the veil.
Diamonds and other jewellery illumine her hair.
Her dress is brightened and colored to attract the
eye and rivet the gaze.

The Lady of Lima is one of the beautiful flow-
ers of the great Spanish plant on our own hemi-
sphere. She is said to be all eyes. The way she
wears her saya y manto gives her such a coquettish
and bewitching air, that, if all her other features
were ugly, she would be rescued by the glory of
her eye and garment. The Lady of Lima has
been known unconsciously to entrance her own
husband in passing along the street ! Although
only one eye is visible at such times, the orb of
the Spanish ladies is of such a large, deep, liquid
black, that her glance through her cr$pe mantle
from China becomes auxiliary to many a heart-
breaking infelicity. The Peruvian and Andalu-
sian beauty is but another type of the Oriental

ARTIFICIAL ADORNMENT. ^4$

woman under American and European acclimati-
zation.

It would seem that the blonde is just now
most affected by the Turkish women. Fair hair,
and blue eyes or gray, are not, however, admired
by their Persian sisters, although in Persia a fair
skin and florid complexion are much sought after.
But, strange to say, that even though nature may
have been unstinted in her gifts to these East-
ern women, art is not seldom called in with her
rouge and powder. I am told that the beauties of
the harem, in Persia at least, are like full blown
peonies. I have seldom seen a Turkish woman
who rouged her face. She may paint her eye-
brows and powder her neck, but rouge does not
seem to be one of her adornments. The Persian
generally gives her suffrage to the jet black, al-
most blue-black, long hair. After the Egyptian
and Oriental method, still seen upon temple and
tomb, it is worn plaited into a number of tiny braids
whose ends peep forth coquettishly from beneath
the veil. But neither in Persia nor in Egypt, nor
in Turkey, is the contour of the ankle revealed by
the walking attire. For four thousand years the
women of the East have been under formal and
constant restraint before their lords and masters.
They will not uncover their face before any man
except their father or husband. Therefore they
put on an outward dress that makes them all

THE PRINCES ISLES.

look alike. This costume was borne from the
East to Andalusia and thence to Spanish Amer-
ica. The veil of the East is, therefore, not only
an Asiatic but an American institution.

In Turkey, thirty odd years ago, when I first
visited it, the trousers, that are yet common in
Persia, were the rage. Then much female para-
phernalia were crowded into these voluminous
trousers — which were gathered at the ankle — when
a Turkish lady desired to make a promenade
abroad. I have noticed that during the interven-
ing time the Turkish women have learned to
correct the ungainly gait which came from wear-
ing slippers at the extremity of their stockingless
legs — a custom which even Byron remarked was
" one of the disenchantments of their beauty."

I have tried to describe the women of the East ;
but how can my pen, with its sameness and tame-
ness of words, picture the rare form and alluring
graces of these maids of the Isle of Prinkipo ?
If they are not good, — as Miranda remarked of
her lover in another enchanted isle, — then good
spirits will try to dwell in such forms of loveliness.
As some one sings : " Nature herself disjoins the
beauteous and profane ; and beauty is virtue
made visible in outward grace." Ah ! if one could
always incarnate within these outward forms the
Florence Nightingales of our earth, where could
be found more exquisite caskets of the soul with-

FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE— HER APPEARANCE. 347

in ! A friend who saw this rare woman here dur-
ing the Crimean war tells me that she was held in
the greatest honor among both men and women.

" How," I asked, "did she look? how was she
dressed ? "

The answer was :

" Her short brown hair was combed over her
forehead, while her childlike and wasted figure
seemed to give more grace to her goodness.
When I saw her in her black dress — which was
held by a large enamelled brooch, surrounded
by a wreath of laurel (an offering of the sol-
diers), and her little white cap with a white crape
handkerchief thrown over it, leaving but a border
of lace to be seen, she was the picture of a nun,
" breathless with adoration ! "

This was the woman of heaven's own type of
beauty, the angel of the hospitals, the pearl of
the camp. I asked for more particulars as to her
personality. My friend responded :

" She had a Roman nose, small dark eyes, keen
yet kind. She was orderly and ladylike in manner."

All of this is in sharp contrast with the luxuri-
ous gifts and physical graces of these women of
this isle of princes and princesses.

But because Florence Nightingale was too good
to be less than an angel, we must not forget that
there may be still some Circes, Calypsos, Helens,
Sapphos and Aspasias. But happily they are rare

348

THE PRINCES ISLES.

among the Christian women whose devotion is the
soul of the Orthodox Church. Such women are
the rule. If there be others they are the excep-
tion.

Would you have me be more particular as to
these island goddesses ? I meet them in the prom-
enade, dressed as queens and as gracious to all
as Minerva was toward Ulysses. I see them mov-
ing amidst the pine forests, their little high-
heeled white shoes hardly deigning to touch
the ground, the realization of Burke's picture of
Queen Antoinette ; for never lit upon this star
more resplendent visions of immortal beauty !

It is impossible to particularize, although I have
one in my mind's eye, as I write. Is she Helen of
Troy, or Venus reincarnated ? When likening
these beauties of the isle to Homer's heroines,
I do not refer, to other than their bodily graces.
Venus is a goddess. She can take care of
herself. Helen is not an odious person. With all
her faults I love her still. She was not hateful
even to old Homer. /As I recall her she is frail but
not abandoned. She struggles with virtues on one
side, and a softness which overcomes them on the
other. Sometimes she is repentant, but always
fair. Fate seems to rescue her fame ; and fate is
never wanting when the "machina" is necessary
for the whirl of the Greek epic. There are places
in Homer where, as in his speaking horses and

HELEN INCARNA TE.

his blood-distilling myrtles, even Pope confesses
that the machine would have been better than the
monstrosity. But Helen is sufficiently natural for
our daily contemplation, and far more alluring
than many of those who have passed as fashion-
able beauties.

If not Helen, then her typical sister is here
upon these isles of Greece.

I see her apparelled in pink satin, moving in
stateliness through the sylvan dells. Sometimes
she can be seen under a yellow or scarlet umbrella,
— " serious as those intent on love," — with her gay
cavalier, whose summer hat is adorned with a varie-
gated ribbon of a broad swath ! The scene is
Greek. Grecian graces pervade the isle despite
the mode. They fill the air with visual enchant-
ment and honeyed sounds. True, these graces
and Helens are dressed a la Parisienne or, re-
cently, on Viennese patterns, and even in Pera
fashion. But no toilet can conceal and no dress
enhance the glory of their beauty.

In several passages of the Iliad we have de-
scriptions of the Grecian ideal of the beautiful
woman. Powers, when he makes his Greek slave,
and Canova, his Venus, copy the statues of
Phidias or the effigy of that Helen who was
teterrima causa between Greek and Trojan.

In Book xiv. of the Iliad we have a poetic
picture of the dress of the Grecian woman 2500

350

THE PRINCES ISLES.

years ago. It was very simple. After the inevi-
table bath and the fragrant unguents — Oriental cus-
toms— she ties up the radiant tresses and casts a
white veil over her hair — the original yashmak.
Then she has a mantle for her whole body—
the feridjie. Then she hangs her pendants
and puts on her sandals. This was the dress
which the magic girdle of Venus enclosed when
Juno borrowed it to please the god of Olympus,
and in which many a Circassian beauty is arrayed
to please her pasha. It was the dress of goddess,
princess and lady, until its simplicity was corrupt-
ed by the later Asiatic fashions, which Isaiah de-
scribes in his third chapter.

But it is Helen's beauty that I take to be the
best standard of ancient Greece. Homer gives us
her portrait. He pictures her at the loom. All
his heroines are industrious and work golden webs.
But he does not give as full a catalogue of her
special beauties as we would like. Her mien is
majestic ; her graces are winning ; she moves — a
goddess , she looks — a queen ! She has the celes-
tial descent. Her charms make men fight nine
years on her account. But what is the color of
her eyes and hair ; how tall is she ? These questions
remain unanswered. Although the Greeks pre-
ferred the goddess of love to be golden-haired, and
worshipped Juno as blue-eyed, yet in general,
among the Greek females of our isle the blondes

PIETY AND BEAUTY.

351

are exceptional. There are some among the
Turkish women whose mothers are doubtless Cir-
cassian blondes ; but then, their eyes are dark as
night, and wonderful as meteors.. Our Prinkipo
Helen is pure Greek. She affords opportunity
for the display of her charms and her wavy, grace-
ful figure. She does not conceal her form under
the ungainly feridjie, although sometimes, like
our Greek lady from Bourdour, in the picture, she
dresses elaborately. Besides, she is devout and
that helps her, as it does the Turkess. There is
no doubt of the fact, that the many kinds of prayers
and their frequency in the. Greek and Moslem cere-
monies tend to make the person willowy in grace
and facile in movement. These prayers are to be
executed with minute and easy exactness of limb
and motion. The Turks pray at least five times a
day. The Greeks make genuflections whenever
they pass a church or the image of a saint. I can-
not reckon from theological data how much move-
ment there is required in the. Greek ceremony, but
the Moslem demands twenty-six postures for each
prayer. The very devout use many courses of
eight postures each. Nine times eight is an excel-
lent number, — which, with the concluding postures,
make seventy-four. Then there are special prayers
at certain seasons, which my informant enumerates
as follows : " for Ramazan, for the seven holy
nights ; for drought, famine, pestilence ; the funeral
26

352 THE PRINCES ISLES.

prayer, the battle prayer, the marriage prayer, and
many others, each of which must be executed in
its own way with the utmost particularity. The
slightest deviation or mistake destroys the merit of
the whole, and the performer — I mean devotee —
must begin anew." This constant genuflection
from early childhood makes the form lithe and the
vertebrae curve in lines of loveliness. No one ever
tires of meeting such courtesy as both Turkish
and Grecian people of both sexes bestow. Piety
and Beauty meet each other ; Goodness and Grace
kiss each other !

I would not depreciate the women of other
climes, nor extol personal charms above mental
culture and virtuous merit. The Greek woman
may have at her tongue's end a dozen languages.
Her time at school has been so absorbed by them
that she has, perhaps, neglected to acquire other
information and discipline. She, however, be-
comes a wonder for sweetness of voice. Her
articulation runs the gamut as her ancestress
touched the lute. Much less would I make un-
due encomium upon the Turkish women, who are
greatly secluded from the world of letters, learn-
ing and social intercourse. Still it is true that
for physical grace the Greek beauty has no par-
allel but her own. The blondes of Boston, with
glasses before their acute orbs ; the brunettes of
Baltimore, with their easy flow of talk ; the girls

THE GREEK PARAGON.

of Norseland, with their golden tresses and ceru-
lean eyes ; the senoritas of Seville whose beauty
made Byron beatific, — all pale before the maidens
of Prinkipo, who as much excel his Maid of
Athens as she excelled the dowdy and gaudy
girls who figure in the novels of " Ouida."

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE TURKISH WOMEN A PRINCESS OF EGYPT

INDEED AN ESCAPADE.

BUT are there no Turkish ladies on your isle ?
Yes, my fair or stern reader, there have been
about fifty here this summer. Six reside immedi-
ately in the rear of our villa. Their house has
the sign of Turkish seclusion at its windows — the
croisde. They walk out over the hills with the
children ; no man accompanies them. It is their
custom never to promenade with their husbands
or their male relatives. Their children are as
pretty as pictures. The women are yashmaked
in white tulle over head and face, and this group
has white feridjies. They look like a bevy of
Dante's ghosts, moving in the gloaming of the
evening, or sitting upon the hillside, as quiet
and mysterious as the dumb folk of Rip Van
Winkle's vision. This group is not so attractive ;
but there is another group who live by themselves
near the Calypso hotel. They are the wife,
daughter, and sister of a Bey, with their female
companions. They are veiled, but not much.
Sometimes I meet them unaccompanied by their

354

TURKISH WOMAN.

TURKISH BEAUTIES ON DONKEYS

355

Nubian eunuch, and when the veils are coquet-
tishly en abandon. They take donkey rides
around the isle, morning and evening. They
sit upon the animal with all the grace consist-
ent with their clumsy outer garment, the ferid-
jie. Their head-dresses shame the new-born
snow. Their feridjies are of all colors : one is
of golden yellow, one of royal purple, one of
white silk, and one is as blue as the Bosphorus.
The eldest has black silk. They wear the neatest
of French boots.

The other evening these ladies were mounted
and in a blithesome mood. The donkey-driver is a
Greek ; he, too, was frolicsome ; in fact, the keen
air of the isle gives to all jocund spirits. The
ladies were arbitrary ; and on their request the
driver pushed the animals up hill and down dale,
while the riders screamed and laughed like chil-
dren just out of school. One of the fair company
rode an obstinate donkey. She was left behind.
My Dalmatian serviteur, Pedro Skoppeglia, and
myself were on a rush behind them upon our don-
keys. May I not mention, sub rosa, that my wife
was not with us on this occasion ? The lady who
drops to the rear calls to the driver in vain. He is
occupied with the other three ladies. But we do the
work of punching up her donkey, and away she flies
like John Gilpin. We gallantly drop to the rear as
we approach the village. They draw rein until we

356

THE PRINCES ISLES.

turn down a street, when the belated one drops
her veil to bid me " Bon-soir" I, too, must drop
the veil. I said that my wife was not there.
Do you ask me, " Was she beautiful ?" She was of
Circassian mould and passing fair. She was the sis-
ter of the Bey. " Were the others beautiful ?" Yes,
of various types. The lady of the bon-soir was gold-
en-haired. She had dark melting eyes, eyebrows
of faultless arch — and arch ways corresponding.
Her color was that of a sunset rose, creamy, tinged
with pink. The old song I heard in Damascus
came back to me with its refrain : " Beautiful was
the pomegranate ; but the wild bird sang to the
rose." She needed no such toilet as the Oriental
women of Isaiah's description. She sat upon her
animal like Helen — if Helen may be supposed to
have ever sat upon a donkey, except metaphori-
cally. One must have recourse to Oriental meta-
phor and exaggeration to color her photograph.
Her shape, was it not as graceful as that of the
cypress? The shafts of her eyes beneath her
lashes were unsparing. Thus the poet of Persia
would sing of her :

"Oh! Queen Rose, thy slave is beggared; his
whole heart is only one wound. Smile but once
again and his head will touch the stars !"

I believe I mentioned that my wife was not
there. Besides, there is a certain reserve which
one in my relation to the American ensign had

A NE W EASTERN Q UESTIQN.

to sustain upon the island. The best I could
do was to request my wife to make advances to
the fair Turquoises ! This she did through a
mutual friend, a Swiss lady of their acquaintance.
Then followed an invitation to a sail in the launch
around the isles, and a picnic al fresco in the
beautiful bay of Halki. Surely no Congressman
who voted for that launch and reads this chapter,
will regret such tender advances in the direction
of the haremlik by a prudent minister and dis-
creet husband. Yet — yet, the wild bird will sing
to the rose.

Seriously, while these ladies understand French,
as do their relatives, the question arises :

What else do they know ? They do not attend
to the cooking in their homes. That is all done
for them, and generally out of their households.
Their slaves do all their home work, except em-
broidery, which Helen and Penelope and the rest
of the Homeric heroines performed as a ladylike
employment. There arises a new Eastern ques-
tion,— and after all it is a question much moot-
ed among medical men, — whether our fair sisters
should enter largely upon and join in the mental
toil and tournament of active life. Exceptional
culture on this isle has not, as has been contend-
ed, removed the " fittest " women, — those physic-
ally perfect and most likely to add to the produc-
tion of generations of high-class brain-power, —

358

THE PRINCES ISLES.

from out of the ranks of motherhood. The sweet
girl-graduates of Greek descent here — whether
of raven or golden hair — are in no danger of
losing their vital forces as, women by excessive
study of something beyond the languages and
graces ; for languages and graces seem to be drunk
in with their mothers ' milk. The Oriental woman,
says Flaubert, is hard to understand, as we are
not permitted to know her. But this is not the
case with the Greek, who never could assimilate
with the ultra-Oriental customs. After all, from my
observation here, I accept as true to life the de-
scription of a happy home life and wife as well de-
picted by an Oriental king, Solomon. He says :

" Who can find a virtuous woman ? — for her
price is far above rubies. The heart of her
husband doth safely trust in her ; she will do
him good and not evil all the days of her life.
She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth
meat to .her household, and a portion to her
maidens. She girdeth her loins with strength
and strengtheneth her arms. She perceiveth that
her merchandise is good ; her candle goeth not
out by night. She layeth her hands to the spin-
dle, and her hands hold the distaff. She
stretcheth forth her hands to the poor; yea, she
reacheth forth her hands to the needy. Her
husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth
among the elders of the land. Strength and

THE NATIONAL QUESTION.

359

honor are her clothing ; and she shall rejoice in
time to come. She openeth her mouth with
wisdom ; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.
She looketh well to the ways of her household,
and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her chil-
dren arise up and call her blessed ; her husband
also, and he praiseth her. Favor is deceitful, and
beauty is vain ; but a woman that feareth the
Lord, she shall be praised."

Has the curriculum in our female colleges been
productive of such ornaments of home as the Wise
King describes ? — is the question yet to be decided.

The British Medical Association, through its
spokesman, Dr. Moore, epitomized one side of the
question, when it said: ''This higher education
will hinder those who would have been the best
mothers from being mothers at all ; or, if it does
not hinder them, more or less, it will spoil them,
and no training will enable themselves to do what
their sons might have done. Bacon's mother, intel-
lectual as she was, could not have produced the
' Novum Organum ; ' but she, perhaps she alone,
could and did produce Bacon."

The other side of the question might well be
illustrated here, for in language dissenting /r0 hdc
from the Association, it may be truly urged
that where there is naturally good intellect
and a good physique, and where these are sus-
tained and improved by judicious feeding, exer-

THE PRINCES ISLES.

cise, and employment, we should have no fear
of subjecting girls to any strain which the ordin-
ary forms of so-called higher education would in-
volve. We do not believe that either they or their
offspring would be in any respect the worse for it.
The question is a personal one ; and it is only on
personal qualities that it can be rightly decided.

It cannot be rightly decided by flippant flings
at the Ottoman women, nor at the time-honored
custom of " shamefacedness " in women which Paul
commended. The Greeks to whom the Gentile
apostle addressed his admonitions were not then,
and certainly were not in the time of the empire,
so pure that they could throw stones at their later
Turkish competitors for empire. " The Greek
emperor," said Gibbon, "demoralized, with his
uncurtained harem, the very Turk."

It is very seldom that a stranger, even if he
knows the Turkish language, and presumes to in-
terrogate, ever has occasion to receive a response
from a Turkish woman. I have read of one or
two instances, but perhaps these are travellers'
stories. In a volume written some forty years
ago, its author, the ubiquitous Mr. Smith, says,
that while he was in some distant province, mak-
ing a sketch of a Saracenic mosque, he was kindly
invited within by the Ulema. While engaged in
his sketching, several Turkish ladies passed by.
Curiosity getting the better of them, they turned

TURKISH GOSSIP.

361

their wonderful eyes, first on the artist, and then
on his artistic performance, and inquired with al-
most American power of question, but with Orien-
tal poetical expression :

" Whence come you, O my soul ? Whither are
you going to travel ? Oh, Allah ! who taught you
to place upon paper what you see before you ? "

Was it possible that Turkish ladies should have
so transformed themselves in a moment by the
sight of an ensanguined Englishman as to have
rivalled our Yankee power of interrogation ? I
cannot believe it, nor that " the approach of some
great white turbans cut short the conversation, and
compelled the damsels to beat a retreat,"

It is a frequent question, What have the Turk-
ish women to do when they, meet ? As far as I
could judge, in passing a group of them at the
Sweet Waters, I never saw them lacking in the
quality of loquacity. They have great powers of
conversation. " Loquunter Maria, Sibilla, et ab hoc,
et ab hac, et ab ilia." Instead of " Maria" insert
Zeuleika ; instead of "Sibilla" read Fatitna ; and
then let the hoc, hac, et ab ilia run at their pleasure.

It is always a source of astonishment to the stran-
ger in the streets of Constantinople or Pera that so
many ladies of the harem are seen driving around in
their broughams, and shopping without any attend-
ant, not even the Nubian. Their yashmaks have
become so thin that the police have had their at-

362 THE PRINCES ISLES.

tention called to them, yet without making much
reform in that particular. In private life a won-
derful change has been made in the costumes of
the Turkish women. % My wife has a couple of
dolls which illustrate the latest phase of Turkish
progress in this respect. The Turkish dress of
thirty years ago is almost obsolete. The Turkish
ladies like, where they have an opportunity, to talk
of the innovations that have been made in their
costumes and customs.

It cannot be true now, as it was four decades
ago, that the women of the harem, after the first
little offices of the Koran, pass the remainder of
the day in ennui. Some of their time must be
spent in dressing and changing their ornamenta-
tions. The bath is always handy, and in winter
season they no doubt nestle much under the cov-
ering of the tandour. But not now, in summer,
do they bury themselves among their cushions,
and thus in perpetual kef pass their time away
in the land of sleep and dreams. Habits of
industry have invaded the harem. Thus utter
idleness has ceased to be an attribute of the Turk-
ish female.

The sentiment which fills the Prankish be-
holder when he views the Oriental female is a per-
petual theme of laudation, as well in prose as in
poetry. The swan-like woman, " rubbed with
lucid oils," or the Asiatic eve, like the first rise of

BEAUTIES UNVEILED.

363

moonlight, — " large, dark and swimming in a
stream which seems to melt in its own beam,"-
these and other fervid pictures show how poetic
sensibility has endeavored to wreak its observa-
tion and feelings upon expression !

When Theodore Gautier visited Constantinople
he did what many tourists undertake : he described
some of the unveiled beauties of the harem, and
made some delineation and coloring of its inmates.
After some conscientious misgivings, he indites
this paragraph :

" ' But how do you know this?' the reader is
about to say, no doubt, scenting some gallant ad-
venture that I have failed to recount. But my
knowledge," said he, " has been attained in a man-
ner the least Don Juanish in the world. In wan-
dering in the cemeteries, it has frequently hap-
pened to me to surprise involuntarily, some lady
adjusting her yashmak, or having left it open
on account of the heat, trusting for security to the
solitude of the place. That is the whole story."

Such an experience is not unusual to those who
sojourn in the East. It has often been my fortune,
or misfortune, to come unexpectedly upon some of
these beauties of the harem when aloof from their
eunuch or other guardian. Those on our isles
are fond of labyrinthine rock rambles. I often
came upon them in covies of a half-dozen in the
sweet nooks and shades of the woods. It always

364

THE PRINCES ISLES.

struck me as strange that they should have so
much care for their faces when they did not seem
to be otherwise fastidious.

My experience, however, in the harem has been
limited. The adventure which I will now narrate
is a little beyond the limitation. When visiting
Constantinople some six years ago, and while stop-
ping with our consul at Therapia, certain Turkish
ladies made a call at the consulate. One of them
was an Egyptian princess. She was a cousin of
the Khedive, and a grand-daughter of Mehemet
Ali, the great Albanian soldier of Egypt. I hap-
pened to take a cup of tea with her, and this, to be
mutual, required that she should drop her veil just
a little. She was widowed, and lived at that time
with her mother in one of the palaces on the Bos-
phorus. I need not say that she was beautiful and
accomplished — Ayesha, the favored wife of the
prophet was not more so. "Her eyes were bril-
liant, and yet human, like the reflection of stars in
a well."

When we were visiting Egypt, in February,
1886, I received a note from the princess to call at
her palace. She desired to prefer a request of the
Sultan, whom she knew to be my friend. The re-
quest had reference to some diamonds. They had
been mortgaged by her husband, and she desired
to recover them. This request had a touch of ro-
mance about it. I ventured, in company with the

VISIT TO A HAREM. ^fa

vice-consul, to make the call. Her palace is quite
after the manner of the haremlik, which I had
frequently seen when the birds were flown.
When I enter it I find the inevitable colored
eunuch. He dismisses the consul and solemnly
directs my steps up the winding staircase, at
the same time using the most singular sound,
—not pronounceable, or translatable into type,—
by which to warn all the females of the house-
hold of the approach of a man and a Giaour.
I surmount the stairs with much timidity. The
number of heads which pop out of the doors
of the various landings, and which are with-
drawn with sudden surprise, astonishes me.
At last I reach the apartment of the princess.
There I find her seated upon an ottoman. After
making the salutations and rnany inquiries, and a
statement of the business, we smoke our cigar-
ettes together, and drink our tea. We talk of
palms and palmistry, of Egypt and England, of
Arnold's " Light of Asia," and American petroleum,
of the beauties of the Bosphorus and the navi-
gation of the Nile. After this interview I am
escorted by the same colored gentleman, amid
the same indescribable noises, down the winding
stairway to the door. On the way down, one of
his sable highness's ejaculations scares one of
the resident young ladies. Not being aware
of my proximity, she is ascending the stairs.

366

THE PRINCES ISLES.

At the terrible sound she rushes for the banis-
ters. She attempts a speedy covering of her head.
She is embarrassed. So am I. I, too, rush for the
banisters, — for support, — and thus we meet. There
is no screen, and no scene ; but there is a hasty
parting, all too hasty ; while the eunuch gives out
another tremendous sound, as if all the Indians of
the " Wild West " were incarnate and vociferous in
his person. I reach the sweet and balmy atmos-
phere of Cairo, with considerable perspiration.
This is my wildest adventure in a harem.

It so happened, during the past summer, that
this fair princess desired to pay some Moslem
rites upon the grave of her mother, who died
the summer before upon the Bosphorus. She
came to Constantinople. Her physicians or-
dered her to Prinkipo. There she took a house
near ours. As in duty bound, I make my
devoirs. My wife invites her to ride, in our
launch, amid the isles of our beautiful little ar-
chipelago. Without much reflection, I procure
a carriage, drive to the villa of the princess,
and tap the knocker. Her man-servant comes
to the door, and soon she appears, radiant in
all the beauty of her white tulle yashmak,
and as stately as became one of the line of Me-
hemet Ali. I assist her into the carriage. She
sits by the side of my wife and they make the
vivacious French incandescent with their talk. We

THE PRINCESS AND THE MINISTER.

367

drive to the scala, where the flag and the l-aunch
await us. Unfortunately, at this time, one of the
ferries from Constantinople comes in and lands
about a thousand passengers. They see the Gia-
our, with a stove-pipe hat. He is gallanting a
Mahometan lady. The rumor reaches the Kaima-
kam, or governor of the island. We return to the
scala after our sail among the islands. We drive
her to her home in the carriage which is waiting.
What is the result ? Before I take the boat that
day for Constantinople, my driver, horses and car-
riage are arrested by order of the Kaimakam !

This is, indeed, an adventure not provided for
by any instructions from the State Department.
At once I send a remonstrance to the Kaimakam,
against the arrest of one in the employ of the
American minister. It is couched in unabridged
terms, such as are embraced in the word inter-
territoriality.

It is needless to say that this proceeding
reached the prefect in the city, — and I fear the
Sultan and the palace also. There had been an
apparent infraction of the Turkish law which
forbids a Mahometan woman, unless of princely
rank, to be seen upon the street with any man,
and more especially a Christian. The plug-hat
made a prima facie case. However, the matter
was decorously settled, as it should have been ; for
the Kaimakam had exceeded his authority. It
was a matter outside of his jurisdiction. His con-

368 THE PRINCES ISLES.

duct was arbitrary. He had no warrant or process
for the seizure of the horses, the driver, or carriage.
If there had not been an Oriental princess in the
case, — who exhibited some sensibility in relation
to her royal independency, which perhaps she
had overstepped, — the matter might have figured
in our diplomatic correspondence. As it was, the
affair was properly settled without a pursuit of
the governor. My impression is that he did not
know the quality of the lady, nor the capacity of
the minister. I had occasion to remedy at the
palace any seeming mischief which might have been
done. The princess left us the next day, which
was the beginning of Bairam, in order to sacrifice
a sheep upon the grave of her mother. She was
a devout Moslem, as well as a most charming and
intelligent woman.

I am sorry to undignify the Kalmakam of the
Princes Islands, who produced so much trouble in
this romance of the princess. Since I left the
island he has become an ex-Kai'makam. This
means an unknown quantity not only in algebra,
but in politics. He was removed from office. He
had been unmindful of the relation of meum et
tuum. He overdrew his salary, by more than a
thousand dollars, an act without legality on his
part, or satisfaction on the other part.

CHAPTER XXIV.

FAREWELL TO PRINKIPO AND ITS PLEASURES.

EARLY in the fall (1886), we commence prepar-
ations to leave our home at Prinkipo. These
preparations look beyond Constantinople. Be-
fore they began the President had kindly ex-
tended his permission that I should return to
America. In fact, I had intimated to him that
it would be agreeable to me to resign my office,
as nearly everything possible to be done to
place it in running order had been accomplished.
Through the favor of the Sultan, and the partial-
ity of Said Pasha, his accomplished minister of
foreign affairs, and with the intelligent assistance
and counsel of Mr. Garguilo, the dragoman of
the legation, I had so far pursued my instructions
from the Department of State as to complete two
treaties which had been suspended during nearly
a dozen years. The first involved extradition,
and the next the question of expatriation and
naturalization.

The American reader will be pleased to know
that the business of the legation at Constanti-
nople by no means gives the leisurely and slip-
24 369

3/o

THE PRINCES ISLES.

pered ease which might be inferred from a perusal
of these pages. There is no time in which some-
thing may not be done to forward the interests of
the American people, and especially of the teach-
ers, preachers and printers who are, through
American benevolence and means, permeating
and smoothing down the ancient ways of the
Orient. But, whether encouraging this work, or
keeping up with the current events of American
newspapers, or watching the operation of the
Turkish life-saving service ; or whether riding
around the suburbs of Constantinople and trying
experiments in ploughing, as an amateur farmer,
whereby I have sometimes relieved the tedium of
absence ; or whether making an excursion to
Egypt, and its temples, tombs and other historic
lineaments ; or whether upon the Acropolis observ-
ing the new developments of archaic statuary as
photographed by the modern artist ; or whether
bounding by day and night upon the y£gean, un-
der the terrific impulses of an equinoctial tempest,

—I have found enough leisure in my active life in
the Orient for some of that sedate and quiet re-
pose which so many believe is the only occupation
of an American minister at the Sublime Porte.

Having thus successfully accomplished my mis-
sion here, all this delightful wintering and sum-
mering amid these resorts of historic grandeur,

and at this theatre of diplomatic contention, are

ADIEU TO PKINKIPO. 371

easily relinquished for the gratification of home
tastes and predilections. After much considera-
tion, and many lingering farewells in my heart be-
fore they were spoken in the word, my mind is
made up. It is now the animo revertendi. Not
the least difficult to sever among the attachments
which I have formed in the Orient is that for this
paradise of Prinkipo. But the soughing of the
wind presages the autumn ; and the dropping of
the leaf upon the mosaic pavement of our garden,
and the brown tinge of the foliage, make our with-
drawal from the pleasures and precincts of this
Eden of the East less regretful than it would be
in the vernal season.

Not unfrequently there were some lively
breezes upon the Marmora. The south wind
always brought its waves, and though the little
launch was capable of mastering them, it was not
so comfortable, especially for the ladies, to be on
board during these emergencies. More than once,
when we started from the bridge in Constantino-
ple, the seeming calm of the sea was disturbed
and the waves dashed over the sides of the vessel.
On such occasions, we had to run behind the
island of Halki for shelter. As the launch was
often decorated with flowers, and especially the
hydrangea, it presented quite a gay appearance
with the red cushions for the seats and the rugs
for the floor. But when the waves were rough,

3^2 THE PRINCES ISLES.

these flowers looked as if they had been on a
spree, and returned to the garden considerably
demoralized.

We selected a calm time and a good photog-
rapher for our farewell view of the scenery of
the islands. Nature never gave to mortal man a
more beautiful day, a more serene sea, a more
azure sky, or more balmy air for a last visit to
loved and familiar scenes and associations. As I
look about me, preparatory to this journey on the
launch, I feel that nature gives to the weary eye
under such a sky and amidst such scenes, a balm
that does not come even from sleep in a less
favored climate. Here is the very home of the
Kef, — of dreamful repose in a sunny sheen bathed
with the mildest airs. The landscape changes its
mood with every vista of observation. The sea
copies the land in its coquettish phases. Soft are
the midday sighings amidst the bosquet of the
pines. On the placid shores the waves forget
even to make their drowsy melody. No fountains
play on the terraces ; no purling streams gurgle on
their way to the sea ; no torrents bound from the
mountain steeps ; no sound is heard except the
faint chants in the churches and the monasteries, as
they float by in waves of softest melody. Here is
blissful rest ! Looking through the avenues of
the trees, down upon the waters of the Propontis,
I see the distant sails becalmed, with here and

PHOTOGRAPHING THE ISLES.

373

there streaks of smoke from the funnels of the
great steamers bound for the Dardanelles, or the
little boats, looking ever so small, carrying the
mail to Modena or Ismid. Is there any motion
on the surface of the sea ? No. Look again !
Is it the shimmer of the sun on the blue surface ?
No ! it is a breeze so mild that the nautilus
of the Southern seas might safely spread its
tiny sail.

Fanned by this gentle breeze, we begin our
farewell photographic trip. Our first course is to
the front of the town of Prinkipo, with its craggy
heights and superb buildings and its inlets and
shadows. These our photograph speedily cap-
tures. Then turning around a rocky point, -upon
which sits as a miracle of beauty a little domes-
tic temple, we anchor our vessel and bid " all
hail !" to the fishermen hauling in their nets from
the rickety platform. They are acquiescent and
submissive, these fisherman, and give themselves
to the lens of the photographer without effort
to escape. After a feeble attempt to take them
all, while they are manning the ropes and bringing
their burden of fish to the pebbly shore, a wild,
strange being presents himself upon the long plat-
form of the pier! His advent is greeted with a
roar of laughter from the fishermen. He is saluted
by his name, which is none other than Demetrius.
He is not of the ecclesiastical kind. But he is of

374

THE PRINCES ISLES.

the orthodox race, and thoroughly Grecian. He
carries a basket in which he has been gathering
some provender among the islanders. He has a
rough cap upon his shaggy, curly black hair ; and a
coat and pair of shoes which no beggar on the
bridge at Stamboul would envy. Pedro, our Dal-
matian servant, and George, the sailor of the
launch, surround him. They press him along to
the conspicuous front of the picture. He is
taken, in much better company than he is ac-
customed to, As soon as his picture is finish-
ed and his recompense paid, some of the villagers
who have gathered upon the shore pick him up
bodily and pitch him into the sea.

Of' course this was a very rude proceeding.
On my remonstrance, the villagers expressed re-
gret. They said that they had often done the
same thing to him before; that he could swim
like a duck, and that, like a cork, he was light in
the head and therefore not properly the sub-
ject of homicide by drowning. He does not
drown. He soon swims out and clambers up the
pier. He makes no protest. He likes his duck-
ing ; for does it not bring him reward ? I am
free to sav that never have I seen in the Orient

a man who, before his involuntary douche, needed
washing more than did Demetrius.

The English engineer who leased our launch to
the government for the use of our legation, lives

FAREWELL OBSERVATIONS.

375

on the western shore of Prinkipo, upon a perpendic-
ular cliff overlooking a deep and delightful shady
cove. Upon the rocks which form the cove a
summer house is placed with exquisite grace. It
is the house of my friend Jones, the lessor of the
launch. He is not at home to give us our fare-
well, but his family come upon the cliff, and along
with the villagers they look wonderingly at our
photographic operations. It is a pretty point of
observation for a picture. The dim islands of
Oxia and Plati are in the hazy distance. Halki,
with her red rocks, is but a mile away. Above
its minarets and Turkish naval school and its
long yellow buildings we discern with a glass the
lazy inhabitants curiously observing our perform-
ance, while a winged catgue, and three Greek
priests in a boat, pass by. They shake their
heads solemnly at the damp, unpleasant body of
Demetrius, who stands a most pitiable and limp
object upon the pier. Along the road upon the
shore we perceive carriages and donkey parties.
They seem to be floating along in a mirage of
sunlight. We hear the tinkle of the bells on the
water donkeys.

We do not linger long at this our favorite spot.
We put off from the shore. We stop the launch
in the open sea near Prinkipo so as to make its
picture and that of the island of Halki whither
we soon shall sail. We are intent on seeing once

376

THE PRINCES ISLES.

more the beautiful bay upon the eastern side of
Halki.

The landlord of the restaurant, or Diaskalon,
sends his boat to us as soon as we anchor in the bay.
He greets us upon his shore, loads my wife fairly
down with flowers from his abundant garden ;
and after many compliments to America, and a
bottle* of wine, a cup of coffee and a smoke, we
are about to return when the insatiable pho-
tographer assails the landlord and his company.
He takes the whole group, amidst surrounding
foliage, in which every prospect pleases, and the
very sun, as well as our host, seems to smile.

Our intention had been once more to visit Oxia
and Plati, so as to take a view of the palaces of
Bulwer and some of the beautiful scenes upon those
rocky islets. But by this time the breeze fresh-
ens and we are content to fire at long range at
these singularly romantic spots. On returning
to our home we stop before the monastery and
church of St George upon the rocky promontory
of Halki. The long avenues of cypresses which
lead up to it are reduced pictorially in a twink-
ling, by the refinement of art. The prettiest
part of this church is on the outside; although
it has recently been renovated and glorified by
new pictures and adornments from Russian
co-religionists. Most of these churches, for rea-
sons already hinted, are not attractive. These

GREEK AND RUSSIAN CHURCHES.

377

old and stained churches within the Turkish
dominion, which are so rigidly orthodox, are in
great contrast with the temples and basilicas of
which Moscow and St. Petersburg furnish the
best examples. The new Temple of the Saviour
at the former, and St. Isaac's at the latter place,
have no equal for the splendor of their pictured
adornments, the gracefulness of their architecture,
their innumerable lighted tapers, their gorgeous
vestments, their rare and original music, and for
that wonderful mystery of the gilded iconostos.
or altar screens, heavy with masses of metal and
jewels and the pictures of saints. The choirs in
the cathedrals of Russia are conducted with ex-
traordinary precision and harmony. In this har-
mony there is no organ or other instrumental
music.

We return to Prinkipo. In the afternoon
we make a detour of the island. This is done
with the purpose of photographing one souvenir
from the spot where the Imperial palace of the
Empress Irene once glorified the earth. It is
now only a hole in the mountain. But we fill it
with solid objects of historic interest. What the
sunless treasures of this Imperial palace were
will never be known, especially as the treas-
urer had not been heard to audit the catalogues.
But we find memories outside of this vacancy.
They are Homeric and Hellenic. Stretched on

37«

HE PRINCES ISLES.

the shelly shore are some idlers, while others
"whirl the disk," if they do not dart the javelin.
We meet our Albanian guide and his dogs. He
is embroidered as if for a gala time. Indeed I no-
tice that carriages are on the road to a grove near
St. Michael's church, where there is a table spread.
It is covered with dainties, fruits, wines and meats
for a hundred people. The place is very select for
such an entertainment. It is a church/?/V. The
breakers on the east shore of the isle begin, with the
creamy, dry Sillery of their crests, to anticipate the
feast ; and on the west side there is what Byron
called the " Sunset glow of Burgundy." Children
play about in the fragrant bushes. But not a word
awakes those historic people who once revelled
here and whose dust is not even folded in tombs.

On our return to our villa in the evening, we
find " Far-Away Moses." He is purchasing much
bric-a-brac and material for us to export to our
home. Mark Twain has made him immortal, in
his " Innocents Abroad." But our photograph
gives to this remarkable Israelite a pictorial cos-
tume which is a sample of the best appearance
which a Hebrew may make in Turkey !

This almost closes our album. Last, though
not least, come our own household. They are
all present for the picture which we desire, in-
cluding even our old " Amty," the cook. Pedro
Stands prominently upon a pedestal like the

" FAR AWAY MOSES.

THE HOUSEHOLD PHOTOGRAPHED.

Dalmatian hero of many an incident of the classic
Olympus or of his Croatian home. Our gardener
is not on hand, except by deputy. Xenophon on
this occasion is represented by Epaminondas.
My wife's little Armenian maid stands upon the
steps beneath " old Amty," who has the emblem
of her vocation, a ladle, in her left hand. But a
better picture is taken of the family group out-
side the grilled gate of the villa. Pedro is there
mounted upon a horse, as if he were the Don
Quixote of our expedition, while the minister,
like Sancho Panza, upon a donkey, modestly
turns his back to the instrument. An English
helmet temporarily destroys something of the
nationality of the minister. But our photo-
graphic mania does not end until our two female
servants of the household are caught as it were
in masquerade ; the maid Marie being dressed as
a Turkish lady, and Theano in the present Greek
costume of her class in the island. — Here "night's
descending shadow " hides the view, and we close
the camera.

A few weeks more and the summer will be
ended. Its luxury of flowers and leaves and the
bright blue of the skies and the brighter blue
of the seas around our islands will have passed
away. The green of the woods will soon turn
to russet and gold, at the touch of the frosty
autumn. All the endearments of this wonderful

380

THE PRINCES ISLES.

and beauteous land will soon pass into the realm
of memory. Even the freshness of the " Sweet
Waters " will pass away ; the dark green ceme-
teries, the monuments and columns, the hippo-
drome, the mosques and minarets, the fountains,
and the chosen haunts with which we are fa-
miliar,— these will pass away with their enchant-
ments, associations and attachments, but never
shall the blissful days of these isles of "eternal
summer " pass from our fond recollection. They
will remain among the bright oases of our life.

A few more days we linger at our lovely home.
We make our adieux to neighbors and friends
upon the island and do the necessary packing for
our long journey. Better to leave it now in
the cool beauty of its refreshing haunts, than
later, when November brings its mist and chill, to
make the solitude, which is so pleasing, lonesome
to a sense of pain.

What will the groves be, when winter rules and
makes this clime less clement ? We do not desire
the solitude of dearth or death ; but rather that of
the hill and valley, where " the harvest of a quiet
eye " may brood and sleep in our own heart. We
do not desire to see the mansions here, — so lately
filled with music and jocund with domestic joys, and
the gardens so full of pleasance and fragrance,—
deserted of both flowers and houris. We do not
wish to wait until, the clouds, — which are now

MEMORIES OF AN ETERNAL SUMMER. ^1

white as wool and rolling in light masses, over
the hills of Asia, — become black with storm and
thunder.

The ways here are sufficiently untrodden now,
but what will they be when even the donkey-boys
cease to accelerate the tourist, and the peddlers
have gone South with the birds, to the isles of
the Grecian archipelago ? The privacy of the
pine forests, the brown of the vineyards, the si-
lence of the warblers, and, above all, the cessation
of the crowds of people who come here for recre-
ation, will make Prinkipo and "the Princes," en-
chanting though they are, too secluded for a
diplomat or a tourist.

The story of our summer is told. The wreaths
begin to wither on the tomb. A thousand
thoughts and studies hang over them. But these
are not dead garlands. The Angels of Memory
will resume their places at the gate of this para-
dise. The flaming sword drives us into the old
and busy world, under the glaring sun and the
uncloistered heat and dust of our earnest and
active American life; but amidst all the turmoil
and worry of that life, we shall turn to the " Pleas-
ures of Prinkipo " ;—

" In the shadow of thy pines, by the shores of thy sea,
On the hills of thy beauty, our heart is with thee."

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS' PUBLICATIONS.

THE TRAVELLERS' SERIES.

SKETCHES OF PEOPLE AND PLACES.
i6mo, paper, per volume, 50 cts.

1 THE GREAT FUR LAND; or, SKETCHES OF LIFE IN THE HUD-

SON BAY TERRITORY. By H. M. ROBINSON. With numerous illus-
trations from designs by CHARLES GASCHE.

" Mr. Robinson's narratives exhibit a freshness and glow of delineation founded on
a certain novelty of adventure which commands the attention of the reader and makes his
story as attractive as a romance." — N. I". Tribune.

2 ITALIAN RAMBLES. By JAMES JACKSON JARVES, author of " The

Art Ideal," " Italian Sights," etc.

" Picturesque and vivid descriptions of people and places in out-of-the-way nooks in
Italy. Mr. Jarves possesses not only literary skill, but a thorough knowledge, based on a
sojourn of a quarter of century, of the country of which he writes."— Chicago Times.

3 STUDIES OF PARIS. By EDMONDO DE AMICIS, author of " Con-

stantinople," " Holland and Its People," " Spain and the Span-
iards," etc.

" De Amicis has comprehended the manifold amazement, the potent charm of Paris
as no writer before him has done." — Press, Portland.

4 THE ABODE OF SNOW. Observations of a tour from Chinese

Thibet to the valleys of the Himalayas. By ANDREW WILSON.

8vo, with map.

" Worthy of the highest praise. There is not a page in the handsome volume of
nearly 500 pages which will not repay perusal. * * * He describes all he meets with
on his way with inimitable spirit." — London Athenecum.

5 A LADY'S LIFE IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. By ISA-

BELLA BIRD, author of " Six Months in the Sandwich Islands," " Un-
beaten Tracks in Japan," etc.
u Miss Bird is an ideal writer. * * * She has regard to the essentials of a scene

or episode, and describes these with a simplicity that is as effective as it is artless." —

London Spectator.

6 TENT LIFE IN SIBERIA, AND ADVENTURES AMONG

THE KORAKS AND OTHER TRIBES IN KAM-
TCHATKA AND NORTHERN ASIA. By GEORGE KEN-
NAN. Seventh edition.

The London Atkeneeuin says: "We strongly recommend this book as one of the
most entertaining volumes of travel that have appeared for some years."

The London Spectator says it is " racy, clear, full of humor, and full of interest."

G. P.- PUTNAM'S SONS" PUBLICATIONS.

7 BY-WAYS OF NATURE AND LIFE. By CLARENCE DEMING.

A series of essays covering a wide variety of topics.

" These letters are characterized by all the grace, elegance, and feeling which made
Matthew Arnold name Newman as the first of living writers of English prose."— Critic.
" Fresh, vigorous, and always interesting." — Westminster Re~>ieiu.

8 CUBAN SKETCHES. By JAMES W. STEELE.

"• The book gives a well-written tale of topics which are of interest both to tourists
and to those who enjoy travelling at their own firesides." — Christian Register.

" Well-written, vivacious, and realistic pictures."—

" One of the brightest and cleverest of the many books which have been written
about Cuba." — Boston Transcript.

9 UP THE RHINE. By THOS. HOOD. With two steel engravings,

and with the author's original illustrations on wood.

10 WHIMS AND ODDITIES. By THOS. HOOD. Illustrated.

11 CANOEING IN KANUCKIA. The Haps and Mishaps on Sea
and Shore of the Statesman, the Editor, the Artist, and the Scribbler.
By C. L. NORTON and JOHN HABBERTON. Very fully illustrated.
Second edition, with supplementary chapter, being details of canoes
constructed down to 1886.

" A more enjoyable book cannot well be imagined. It makes one think of summer,
of rest, of recreation, of unpremeditated and unrestricted fun." — Albany Argus.

12 PICTURES AND LEGENDS FROM NORMANDY AND
BRITTANY. By KATHERINE S. and THOMAS MACQUOID. With
thirty-four illustrations.

The well-known author of " Patty " has interwoven with some fascinating narratives
of travel a selection of Norman and Breton stories and legends which are very quaint and
characteristic, and her husband and fellow-traveller has contributed a series of charming
pencil sketches of the scenery and the people.

13 THE GREEKS OF TO-DAY. By Hon. CHARLES K. TUCK-
ERMAN, late Minister Resident of the United States at Athens. Third
edition.

" No one can read this book without having his interest greatly increased in this
brave, brilliant, and in every way remarkable people." — N. Y. Times.

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, Publishers,

NEW YORK: LONDON:

27 and 29 West 23d Street. 27 King William St., Strand.

FOURTEEN DAY USE

RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED

This book is due on the last date stamped below, or

on the date to which renewed.
Renewed books are subject to immediate recall.

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