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pas THE
NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC
MAGAZINE
AN ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY
Editor
GILBERT H. GROSVENOR
Associate Editor
JOHN OLIVER LA GORCE
Assistant Editor
WILLIAM JOSEPH SHOWALTER
Contributing Editors
A. W. GREELY ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL
Arctic Explorer, Major Gen’! U. S. Army
©. HART. MERRIAM DAVID FAIRCHILD
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O. H. TITTMANN :
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_and Geodetic Survey Commissioner, U.S. Bureau of Fisheries
ROBERT HOLLISTER CHAPMAN
U. S. Geological Survey
WALTER T. SWINGLE FRANK M. CHAPMAN
N. H. DARTON
Vol. XXX—July-December, 1916
STAC
COPYRIGHT 1916 BY ( NOV 5) 1981 \
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY
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tion is made.
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Copyright, 1917, by National Geographic Society, Washington, D.C. All rights reserved
CONTENTS
American Gibraltar; An: Notes on the DanishWest Indies. ......0.0...-¢+.:0s0--+-%
Awakening of Argentina and Chile, The: Progress in the Lands that Lie Below
Capniconns WS y-DATEEY WAITS oi c.cye-coelives ie cecse Srccors tetera aan OR Ret nT aa
Hoary Monasteries of Mt. Athos, The. By H. G. Dwicur
Inexhaustible Italy: The Gifted Mother of Civilization. By Artuur STANLEY Riccs..
Larger North American Mammals, The. By E. W. Netson
Pittienyourney-im-Hondtras, A. Byki Js. YOUNGBLOOD.s.. J: s/s,.\0ssereacc conan eee eee
Ce ee er PY
Ce
Wittle-known, Sardinia: By —IEEEN DiUNSTAN) WRIGHT ss sip) wag este ckelae see arr eee
Lonely Australia: The Unique Continent. By Herpert E. Grecory..................
MustemoteAncirent: Mexico, the: . By. WiILLTAM: Hi. PRESCOTT !..3205 5-952 vanes see eee
Roumaniarand tts Rubicon. By JOHN (OLIVER! ILAWGOREE s- 20... sue ae ee oy earaioae
Sailorivitoh, “1a ited s De Cae BATA (eh 2g ama eR RPA nan oa pent MIURA MMA ymin OA. Pk ona nal eran Say
Treasure Chest of Mercurial Mexico, The. By FRANK H. PRoBert..................
Wemiceroreexico, Wher By WAL TERVETOUCHE aiccile, san is soot ea walneal ee canny Se
Wards of the United States: Notes on What Our Country is Doing for Santo Do-
MIN SOH NECA TA SUA aT ERAN ee eisccatss sieeve to as Go la vay cqe rene ste erste beilevadeneian ater elaretoneraysteectey pel meet
i
143
WOlLs DOOG INOS 1
WASHINGTON
JULY, 1916
THE
NATITONAIL
GEOGIRAPIAIC
MAGAZINIE
THE LUSTER OF ANCIENT MEXICO
The following article is abstracted from the celebrated classic, “History of the
Conquest of Mexico,’ by Wiliam H. Prescott
F ALL that ‘extensive empire
() which once acknowledged the au-
thority of Spain in the New
World, no portion, for interest and im-
portance, can be compared with Mexico,
and this equally, whether we consider the
variety of its soil and climate; the inex-
haustible stores of its mineral wealth; its
scenery, grand and picturesque beyond
example; the character of its ancient 1n-
habitants, not only far surpassing in in-
telligence that of the other North Ameri-
can races, but reminding us, by their
monuments, of the primitive civilization
of Egypt and Hindostan; or, lastly, the
peculiar circumstances of its conquest,
adventurous and romantic as any legend
devised by Norman or Italian bard of
chivalry.
The country of the ancient Mexicans,
or Aztecs, as they were called, formed
but a very small part of the extensive
territories comprehended in the modern
Republic of Mexico. Its boundaries can-
not be defined with certainty. They were
much enlarged in the latter days of the
empire, when they may be considered as
reaching from about the eighteenth de-
gree north to the twenty-first, on the At-
lantic, and from the fourteenth to the
nineteenth, including a very narrow strip,
on the Pacific. In its greatest breadth it
could not exceed five degrees and a half,
dwindling, as it approached its southeast-
ern limits, to less than two.
It covered probably less than 16,000
square leagues. Yet such is the remark-
able formation of this country that,
though not more than twice as large as
New England, it presented every variety
of climate, and was capable of yielding
nearly every fruit found between the
Equator and the Arctic Circle.
All along the Atlantic the country is
bordered by a broad tract, called the
tierra caliente, or hot region, which has
the usual high temperature of equinoctial
lands. Parched and sandy plains are
intermingled with others of exuberant
fertility, almost impervious from thickets
of aromatic shrubs and wild flowers, in
the midst of which tower up trees of that
magnificent growth which is found only
within the tropics.
SCENERY GRAND AND TERRIBLE
After passing some twenty leagues
across this burning region, the traveler
finds himself rising into a purer atmos-
phere. His limbs recover their elasticity.
He breathes more freely, for his senses
are not now oppressed by the sultry heat
and intoxicating perfumes of the valley.
The aspect of nature, too, has changed,
and his eye no longer revels among the
gay variety of colors with which the land-
scape was painted there. ‘The vanilla,
the indigo, and the flowering cacao groves
disappear as he advances. ‘The sugar-
cane and the glossy-leaved banana still
accompany him; and, when he has as-
cended about 4,000 feet, he sees in the
unchanging verdure and the rich foliage
of the liquid-amber tree that he has
COLIMA, ONE
OF MEXICO’S
ACTIVE VOLCANOES
On the sides of this great safety valve of the big earth furnace are numerous ice camps.
Hail forms
and falls so continuously here that the peons gather up the ice-stones, wrap them
in straw, and carry them down to the towns on the plain for domestic purposes.
louds and
from the
reached the height where
mists settle in their passag
Mexican Gulf.
He has entered the tierra templada, or
temperate region, whose character resem-
bles that of the temperate zone of the
globe. The features of the scenery be-
come grand and even terrible. His road
sweeps along the base of mighty moun-
tains, once gleaming with volcanic fires,
and still resplendent in their mantles of
snow, which serve as beacons to the mari-
ner, for many a league at sea. All around
he beholds traces of their ancient com-
bustion, as his road passes along vast
tracts of lava, bristling in the innumer-
able fantastic forms into which the fiery
Cc
e
to
torrent has been thrown by the obstacles
in its career. Perhaps at the same mo-
ment as he casts his eye down some steep
slope or almost unfathomable ravine on
the margin of the road he sees their depths
glowing with the rich blooms and enam-
eled vegetation of the tropics. Such are
the singular contrasts presented, at the
same time, to the senses in this pictur-
esque region!
Still pressing. upward, the traveler
mounts into other climates, favorable to
other kinds of cultivation. The yellow
maize, or Indian corn, as we usually call
it, has continued to follow him up from
the lowest level; but he now first sees
fields of wheat and the other European
CL Ey le WI Sav Res @EMAUN CIEIN alee Nii XeKe @ D
grains brought into the country by the
Conquerors. Mingled with them he
views the plantations of the aloe or
maguey (agave Americana), applied to
such various and important uses by the
Aztecs. The oaks now acquire a sturdier
growth, and the dark forests of pine an-
nounce that he has entered the tierra fria,
or cold region, the third and last of the
great natural terraces into which the
country is divided.
THE BROAD MEXICAN TABLE-LAND
When he has climbed to the height of
between 7,000 and 8,000 feet, the weary
traveler sets his foot on the summit of
the Cordillera of the Andes—the colossal
range that, after traversing South Amer-
ica and the Isthmus of Darien, spreads
out as it enters Mexico into that vast
sheet of table-land, which maintains an
elevation of more than 6,000 feet, for the
distance of nearly 200 leagues, until it
gradually declines in the higher latitudes
of the north.
The air is exceedingly dry; the soil,
though naturally good, is rarely clothed
with the luxuriant vegetation of the
lower regions. It frequently, indeed, has
a parched and barren aspect, owing partly
to the greater evaporation which takes
place on these lofty plains, through the
diminished pressure of the atmosphere;
and partly, no doubt, to the want of trees
to shelter the soil from the fierce influ-
ence of the summer sun.
In the time of the Aztecs the table-
land was thickly covered with larch, oak,
cypress, and other forest trees, the extra-
ordinary dimensions of some of which,
remaining to the present day, show that
the curse of barrenness in later times is
chargeable more on man than on nature.
Indeed, the early Spaniards made as in-
discriminate war on the forest as did our
Puritan ancestors, though with much less
reason. After once conquering the coun-
try they had no lurking ambush to fear
from the submissive, semi-civilized In-
dian, and were not, like our forefathers,
obliged to keep watch and ward for a
century. ‘This spoliation of the ground,
however, is said to have been pleasing to
their imaginations, as it reminded them
of the plains of their own Castile, where
the nakedness of the landscape forms the
burden of every traveler’s lament who
visits that country.
THE WONDERFUL VALLEY OF MEXICO
Midway across the continent, some-
what nearer the Pacific than the Atlantic
Ocean, at an elevation of nearly 7,500
feet, is the celebrated Valley of Mexico.
It is of an oval form, about 67 leagues in
circumference, and is encompassed by a
towering rampart of porphyritic rock,
which nature seems to have provided,
though ineffectually, to protect it from
invasion.
The soil, once carpeted with a beauti-
ful verdure, and thickly sprinkled with
stately trees, is often bare, and in many
places, white with the incrustation of
salts, caused by the draining of the
waters. Five lakes are spread over the
valley, occupying one-tenth of its surface.
On the opposite borders of the largest of
these basins, much shrunk in its dimen-
sions since the days of the Aztecs, stood
the cities of Mexico and Tezcuco, the
capitals of the two most potent and flour-
ishing States of Anahuac, whose history,
with that of the mysterious races that
preceded them in the country, exhibits
some of the nearest approaches to civili-
zation to be met with anciently on the
North American continent.
Of these races the most conspicuous
were the Toltecs. Advancing from a
northerly direction, but from what region
is uncertain, they entered the territory of
Anahuac, probably before the close of
the seventh century.
The Toltecs were well instructed in
agriculture, and many of the most useful
mechanic arts; were nice workers of
metals; invented the complex arrange-
ment of time adopted by the Aztecs; and,
in short, were the true fountains of the
civilization which distinguished this part
of the continent in later times. They es-
tablished their capital at Tula, north of
the Mexican Valley, and the remains of
extensive buildings were to be discerned
there at the time of the Conquest. The
noble ruins of religious and other edifices,
still to be seen in various parts of New
Spain, are referred to this people, whose
name, Joltec, has passed into a synonym
© Underwood & Underwooé
NEAR THE PYRAMID OF THE SUN: SAN JUAN
TEOTIHUACAN, MEXICO
GATHERING PRICKLY PEAR FRUIT
The nopal cactus bears the tuna of the Mexicans and the prickly pear of Americans.
The tree is composed of series of oval pads. As one of these pads hardens, it becomes a
part of the tree instead of remaining its foliage and fruit. The great pad produces a fruit
about the size of a duck egg, covered with fine prickles, as full of seeds as the ordinary fig.
It is always cool when plucked. The natives subsist almost entirely on it when they can
get it. It means as much to the Mexican nifios as Georgia watermelon to the American
pickaninnies.
TARAHUMARE INDIANS IN CHIHUAHUA CITY, MEXICO
Not even Greece and Rome in the palmiest days of their athletic history produced a race
of greater physical endurance than is to be found in the Tarahumare Indians of Mexico.
Their favorite pastime is chasing a big ball, which they sometimes do from morning to night.
Lumholtz, in his “Unknown Mexico,”
for architect.
minds us of those primitive races who
preceded the ancient Egyptians in the
march of civilization, fragments of whose
monuments, as they are seen at this day,
incorporated with the buildings of the
Egyptians themselves, give to these latter
the appearance of almost modern con-
structions.
DID THE TOLTECS BUILD MITLA AND
PALENQUE
After a period of four centuries, the
Toltecs, who had extended their sway
over the remotest borders of Anahuac,
having been greatly reduced, it is said,
by famine, pestilence, and unsuccessful
wars, disappeared from the land as si-
lently and mysteriously as they had en-
tered it. A few of them still lingered
behind, but much the greater number,
probably, spread over the region of Cen-
Their shadowy history re-
says they can run down and catch wild horses, and
that the women are as good runners as. the men.
tral America and the neighboring isles;
and the traveler now speculates on the
majestic ruins of Mitla and Palenque, as
possibly the work of this extraordinary
people.
The Mexicans, with whom our history
is principally concerned, came, also, from
the remote regions of the north—the
populous hive of nations in the New
World, as it has been in the Old. They
arrived on the borders of Anahuac, to-
ward the beginning of the thirteenth cen-
tury, some time after the occupation of
the land by the kindred races. Fora long
time they did not establish themselves in
any permanent residence, but continued
shifting their quarters to different parts
of the “Mexican V alley, enduring all the
casualties and hardships of a migratory
life. On one occasion they were enslaved
by a more powerful tribe, but their feroc-
FORTIFICATIONS AT
Acapulco is one of the principal west coast
for 100 ocean steamships and 200 lighter crait.
ACAPULCO, MEXICO
cities of Mexico, with harbor accommodations
Bret Harte, in his “Last Galleon,” sings of
the day in 1641 when the regular yearly galleon was due to arrive in Acapulco, while the
limes were ripening in the sun for the sick on board.
ity soon made them formidable to their
masters.
THE
After a series of wanderings and ad-
ventures, which need not shrink from
comparison with the most extravagant
legends of the heroic ages of antiquity,
they at length halted on the southwestern
borders of the principal lake in the year
1325. They there beheld, perched on the
stem of a prickly pear, which shot out
from the crevice of a rock that was
washed by the waves, a royal eagle of ex-
traordinary size and beauty, with a ser-
pent in his talons, and his broad wings
opened to the rising sun.
They hailed the. auspicious omen, an-
nounced by the oracle as indicating the
FOUNDING OF TENOCHTITLAN
site of their future city, and laid its foun-
dations by sinking piles into the shallows,
for the low marshes were half buried
under water. On these they erected their
light fabrics of reeds and rushes, and
sought a precarious subsistence from
fishing and from the wild fowl which
frequented the waters, as well as from
the cultivation of such simple vegetables
as they could raise on their floating gar-
dens. The place was called Tenochtitlan,
in token of its miraculous origin, though
only known to Europeans by its other
name of Mexico, derived from their war-
god, Mexitli. The legend of its founda-
tion is still further commemorated by the
device of the eagle and the cactus, which
form the arms of the modern Mexican
Republic.
HOUSE IN COUNTRY NEAR CORDOBA
Perhaps three-fourths of Mexico’s population has no more of this world’s goods than
the family in the picture, whose all is contained in this thatched hut and the patch of ground
that answers for a garden.
comforts.
Nor does the vast majority know any more than they of creature
Some one has observed that it is no compliment to the well-fed, sleek ox on the
Mexican hacienda to say that the half-starved peon drudge is a brother to him.
They gradually increased, however, in
numbers, and strengthened themselves
yet more by various improvements in
their polity and military discipline, while
they established a reputation for courage
as well as cruelty in war, which made
their name terrible throughout the Val-
ley. In the early part of the fifteenth
century, nearly a hundred years from the
foundation of the city, an event took place
which created an entire revolution in the
circumstances and, to some extent, in the
character of the Aztecs.
A REMARKABLE MILITARY ALLIANCKH
Then was formed that remarkable
league, which, indeed, has no parallel in
history. It was agreed between the States
of Mexico, Tezcuco, and the neighboring
little kingdom of Tlacopan that they
should mutually support each other in
their wars, offensive and defensive, and
N
that in the distribution of the spoil one-
fifth should be assigned to Tlacopan and
the remainder be divided, in what pro-
portions is uncertain, between the other
powers.
What is more extraordinary than the
treaty itself, however, is the fidelity with
which it was maintained. During a cen-
tury of uninterrupted warfare that en-
sued, no instance occurred where the par-
ties quarreled over the division of the
spoil, which so often makes shipwreck of
similar confederacies among civilized
States.
The allies for some time found suffi-
cient occupation for their arms in their
own valley ; but they soon overleaped its
rocky ramparts, and by the middle of the
fifteenth century, under the first Monte-
zuma, had spread down the sides of the
table-land to the borders of the Gulf of
Mexico. ‘Tenochtitlan, the Aztec capital,
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Mela IOSINSIR Os,
gave evidence of the public prosperity.
Its frail tenements were supplanted by
solid structures of stone and lime. Its
population rapidly increased.
At the beginning of the sixteenth cen-
tury, just before the arrival of the Span-
iards, the Aztec dominion reached across
the continent, from the Atlantic to the
Pacific; and, under the bold and bloody
Ahuitzotl, its arms had been carried far
over the limits already noticed as defin-
ing its permanent territory into the far-
thest corners of Guatemala and Nica-
ragua. This extent of empire, however
limited in comparison with that of many
other States, is truly wonderful, consid-
ering it as the acquisition of a people
whose whole population and resources
had so recently been comprised within
the walls of their own petty city; and
considering, moreover, that the conquered
territory was thickly settled by various
races, bred to arms like the Mexicans,
and little inferior to them in social organ-
ization.
THE LAWS
OF THE AZTECS
The laws of the Aztecs were registered
and exhibited to the people in their hiero-
glyphical paintings. Much the larger part
of them, as in every nation imperfectly
civilized, relates rather to the security of
persons than of property. Iiiewerear
crimes against society were all made capt-
tal. Even the murder of a slave was
punished with death. Adulterers, as
among the Jews, were stoned to death.
Thieving, according to the degree of
the offense, was punished by slavery or
death. Yet the Mexicans could have
been under no great apprehension of this
crime, since the entrances to their dwell-
ings were not secured by bolts or fasten-
ings of any kind. It was a capital offense
to remove the boundaries of another’s
lands; to alter the established measures,
and for a guardian not to be able to give
a good account of his ward’s property.
These regulations evince a regard for
equity in dealings and for private rights,
which argues a considerable progress in
civilization. Prodigals who squandered
their patrimony were punished in like
manner—a severe sentence, since the
crime brought its adequate punishment
along with it.
ANCIENT MEXICO 9
Intemperance, which was the burden,
moreover, of their religious homilies, was
visited with the severest penalties, as if
they had foreseen in it the consuming
canker of their own, as well as of the
other Indian races in later times. It was
punished in the young with death, and in
older persons with loss of rank and con-
fiscation of property. Yet a decent con-
viviality was not meant to be proscribed
at their festivals, and they possessed the
means of indulging it, in a mild fer-
mented liquor called pulque, which is still
popular not only with the Indian, but the
European population of the country.
STRICT DIVORCE LAWS
The rites of marriage were celebrated
with as much formality as in any Chris-
tian country, and the institution was held
in such reverence that a tribunal was in-
stituted for the sole purpose of determin-
ing questions relating to it. Divorces
could not be obtained until authorized by
a sentence of this court, after a patient
hearing of the parties.
But the most remarkable part of the
Aztec code was that relating to slavery.
There were several descriptions of slaves:
prisoners taken in war, who were almost
always reserved for the dreadful doom of
sacrifice; criminals, public debtors, per-
sons who, from extreme poverty, volun-
tarily resigned their freedom, and chil-
dren who were sold by their own parents.
In the last instance, usually occasioned
also by poverty, it was common for the
parents, with the master’s consent, to
substitute others of their children suc-
cessively as they grew up, thus distribut-
ing the burden as equally as possible
among the different members of the
family. The willingness of freedom to
incur, the penalties of this condition is
explained by the mild form in which it
existed. The contract of sale was exe-
cuted in the presence of at least four wit-
nesses. The services to be exacted were
limited with great precision.
The slave was allowed to have his own
family, to hold property, and even other
slaves. His children were free. No one
could be born to slavery in Mexico; an
honorable distinction not known, | be-
lieve, in any civilized community where
pure ‘sjeurur
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GIANT CYPRESS AT TULE, NEAR CITY OF OAXACA, MEXICO
This great tree, 154 feet high and its trunk so large that 28 men with outstretched arms
can barely encircle it, is one of the largest in the world. Humboldt inscribed his name upon
it, and, history says, Cortez rested his men under its branches while en route to Honduras.
slavery has been sanctioned. Slaves were
not sold by their masters, unless when
these were driven to it by poverty. They
were often liberated by: them at their
death, and sometimes, as there was no
natural repugnance founded on differ-
ence of blood and race, were married to
them. Yet a refractory or vicious slave
II
might be led into the market, with a col-
lar round his neck, which intimated his
bad character, and there be publicly sold,
and, on a second sale, reserved for sacri-
fice.
Communication was maintained with
the remotest parts of the country by
means of couriers. Post-houses were es-
STREET OF THE DEAD: SAN JUAN TEOTIHUACAN, MEXICO
The sacred pyramids of San Juan Teotihuacan, situated 27 miles northeast of Mexico
City, are reputed to be the largest artificial mounds in the New World.
It is believed that
they were built at least 900 years before Columbus discovered America.
tablished on the great roads, about two
leagues distant from each other. ‘The
courier, bearing his dispatches in the
form of a hieroglyphical painting, ran
with them to the first station, where they
were taken by another messenger and
carried forward to the next, and so on
till they reached the capital. These cou-
riers, trained from childhood, traveled
with incredible swiftness; not four or
five leagues an hour, as an old chronicler
would make us believe, but with such
speed that despatches were carried from
100 to 200 miles a day.
Fresh fish was frequently served at
Montezuma’s table in 24 hours from the
time it had been taken in the Gulf of
Mexico, 200 miles from the capital. In
this way intelligence of the movements
of the royal armies was rapidly brought
to court; and the dress of the courier,
denoting by its color that of his tidings,
spreading joy or consternation in the
towns through which he passed.
But the great aim of the Aztec insti-
tutions, to which private discipline and
public honors were alike directed, was
the profession of arms. In Mexico, as in
Egypt, the soldier shared with the priest
the highest consideration. The king, as
we have seen, must be an experienced
warrior. The tutelary deity of the Aztecs
was the:god of war. A great object of
their military expeditions was to gather
hecatombs of captives for his altars. The
soldier who fell in battle was transported
at once to the region of ineffable bliss in
the bright mansions of the Sun.
COUNTERPART OF CHRISTIAN
CRUSADERS
THE AZTEC
Every war, therefore, became a cru-
sade; and the warrior, animated by a re-
ligious enthusiasm, like that of the early
Saracen, or the Christian crusader, was
not only raised to contempt of danger,
but courted it, for the imperishable crown
of martyrdom. Thus we find the same
PULQUE GATHERERS NEAR TOLUCA, MEXICO
Toluca is nearly a thousand feet higher than Mexico City,
and a half higher than Washington or New York.
which, in its turn, is a mile
It is too high for dogs, cats, and insects,
which are scarcer here than in almost any other city in the country.
impulse acting in the most opposite quar-
ters of the globe, and the Asiatic, the
European, and the American, each ear-
nestly invoking the holy name of religion
in the perpetration of human butchery.
The dress of the higher warriors was
picturesque and often magnificent. Their
bodies were covered with a close vest of
quilted cotton, so thick as to be impene-
trable to the light missiles of Indian war-
fare. This garment was so light and
serviceable that it was adopted by the
Spaniards. The wealthier chiefs some-
times wore, instead of this cotton mail, a
cuirass made of thin plates of gold or
silver. Over it was thrown a surcoat of
the gorgeous feather-work in which they
excelled. Their helmets were sometimes
of wood, fashioned like the heads of wild
animals, and sometimes of silver, on the
top of which waved a panache of varie-
gated plumes, sprinkled with precious
stones and ornaments of gold. They also
w
wore collars, bracelets, and ear-rings of
the same rich material.
The national standard, which has been
compared to the ancient Roman, dis-
played, in its embroidery of gold and
feather-work, the armorial ensigns of the
state. These were significant of its name,
which, as the names of both persons and
places were borrowed from some mate-
rial object, was easily expressed by hiero-
glyphical symbols. ‘The companies and
the great chiefs had also their appropriate
banners and devices, and the gaudy hues
of their many-colored plumes gave a daz-
zling splendor to the spectacle.
MARCHED SINGING INTO BATTLE
Their tactics were such as belong to a
nation with whom war, though a trade,
is not elevated to the rank of a science.
They advanced singing and shouting their
war-cries, briskly charging the enemy, as
rapidly retreating, and making use of am-
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buscades, sudden surprises, and the light
skirmish of guerilla warfare. Yet their
discipline was such as to draw forth the
encomiums of the Spanish Conquerors.
“A beautiful sight it was,” says one of
them, “to see them set out on their march,
all moving forward so gayly and in so
admirable order!’ In battle they did not
seek to kill their enemies so much as to
take them prisoners, and they never
scalped, like other North American tribes.
The valor of a warrior was estimated by
the number of his prisoners, and no ran-
som was large enough to save the devoted
captive.
Their military code bore the same
stern features as their other laws. Dis-
obedience of orders was punished with
death It was death also for a soldier to
leave his colors, to attack the enemy be-
fore the signal was given, or to plunder
another’s booty or prisoners. One of the
last ‘ezcucan princes, in the spirit of an
ancient Roman, put two sons to death,
after having cured their wounds, for
violating the last-mentioned law.
THEIR ““HOUSES OF GOD”
The Mexican temples— teocallis,
“houses of God,” as they were called—
were very numerous. ‘They were solid
masses of earth, cased with brick or
stone, and in their form somewhat re-
semble the pyramidal structures of an-
cient Egypt. The bases of many of them
were more than a hundred feet square,
and they towered to a still greater height.
They were distributed into four or five
stories, each of smaller dimensions than
that below. The ascent was by a flight
of steps, at an angle of the pyramid, on
the outside. This led to a sort of terrace,
or gallery, at the base of the second story,
which passed quite round the building to
another flight of stairs, commencing also
at the same angle as ‘the preceding and
directly over it, and leading to a similar
terrace; so that one had to make the cir-
cuit of the temple several times before
reaching the summit. In some instances
the stairway led directly up the center of
the western face of the building.
The top was a broad area, on which
were erected one or two towers, 40 or
50 feet high, the sanctuaries in which
stood the sacred images of the presiding
deities. Before these towers stood the
dreadful stone of sacrifice and two lofty
altars, on which fires were kept, as inex-
tinguishable as those in the Temple of
Vesta. There were said to be 600 of
these altars on smaller buildings within
the inclosure of the great temple of Mex-
ico, which, with those in the sacred edi-
fices in other parts of the city, shed a
brilliant illumination over its streets
through the darkest night.
CEREMONIALS OF PEACE
From the construction of their temples
all religious services were public. ‘The
long processions of priests winding round
their massive sides, as they rose higher
and higher toward the summit, and the
dismal rites of sacrifice performed there,
were all visible from the remotest corners
of the capital, impressing on the spec-
tator’s mind a superstitious veneration
for the mysteries of his religion and for
the dread ministers by whom they were
interpreted.
This impression was kept in full force
by their numerous festivals. Every
month was consecrated to some protect-
ing deity; and every week—nay, almost
every day—was set down in their calen-
dar for some appropriate celebration ; so
that it is difficult to understand how the
ordinary business of life could have been
compatible with the exactions of religion.
Many of their ceremonies were of a light
and cheerful complexion, consisting of
the national songs and dances, in which
both sexes joined. Processions were made
of women and children crowned with
garlands and bearing offerings of fruits,
the ripened maize, or the sweet incense of
copal and other odoriferous gums, while
the altars of the deity were stained with
no blood save that of animals.
These were the peaceful rites derived
from their Toltec predecessors, on which
the fierce Aztecs engrafted a superstition
too loathsome to be exhibited in all its
nakedness, and one over which I would
gladly draw a veil altogether, but that it
would leave the reader in ignorance of
their most striking institution, and one
that had the greatest influence in form-
ing the national character.
&
6 Sad
et ee
A MAGUEY PLANT IN BLOOM: MEXICO
A maguey plant in bloom is a sight one seldom sees in Mexico, for the reason that the
stem is cut at its base and hollowed out, and the sap that would have gone into the flowers
is collected and converted into that evil-smelling, criminal-making concoction called pulque.
When the sap gathers—at the rate of ten to fifteen pints a day—peons pass from plant to
plant, and with their mouths to one end of a tube suck it up, and then discharge it into con-
tainers made of pigskins, flung, saddle-bags fashion, across the back of an uncurried donkey.
eke piauid is then carried to the central station, where it is “ripened” in vats of untanned
cowhide.
160
ANSUs, ILS INR Ole AINCMa INI WMS G(CO) al
Human sacrifices were adopted by the
Aztecs early in the fourteenth century,
about 200 years before the Conquest.
Rare at first, they became more frequent
with the wider extent of their empire,
till at length almost every. festival was
closed with this cruel abomination. These
religious ceremonials were generally ar-
ranged in such a manner as to afford a
type of the most prominent circumstances
in the character or history of the deity
who was the object of them. A single
example will suffice.
PRISONERS IN THE ROLES OF GODS
One of their most important festivals
was that in honor of the god ‘Tezcatli-
poca, whose rank was inferior only to
that of the Supreme Being. He was
called “the soul of the world,” and sup-
posed to have been its creator. He was
depicted as a handsome man, endowed
with perpetual youth. A year before the
intended sacrifice a captive, distinguished
for his personal beauty, and without a
blemish on his body, was selected to rep-
resent this deity. Certain tutors took
charge of him and instructed him how to
perform his new part with becoming
grace and dignity. He was arrayed ina
splendid dress, regaled with incense and
with a profusion of sweet-scented flow-
ers, of which the ancient Mexicans were
as fond as their descendants at the pres-
ent day.
When he went abroad he was attended
by a train of the royal pages, and as he
halted in the streets to play some favorite
melody the crowd prostrated themselves
before him and did him homage as the
representative of their good deity. In
this way he led an easy, luxurious life,
till within a month of his sacrifice. Four
beautiful girls, bearing the names of the
principal goddesses, were then selected to
be his companions, and with them he con-
tinued to live in idle dalliance, feasted at
the banquets of the principal nobles, who
paid him all the honors of a divinity.
THE FATAL DAY OF SACRIFICE
At length the fatal day of sacrifice ar-
rived. The term of his short-lived glo-
ries was at an end. He was stripped of
his gaudy apparel and bade adieu to the
fair partners of his revelries. One of
the royal barges transported him across
the lake to a temple which rose on its
margin, about a league from the city.
Hither the inhabitants of the capital
flocked to witness the consummation of
the ceremony. As the sad procession
wound up the sides of the pyramid, the
unhappy victim threw away his gay chap-
lets of flowers and broke in pieces the
musical instruments with which he had
solaced the hours of captivity.
On the summit he was received by six
priests, whose long and matted locks
flowed disorderly over their sable robes,
covered with hieroglyphic scrolls of mys-
tic import. ‘They led him to the sacri-
ficial stone, a huge block of jasper, with
its upper surface somewhat convex. On
this the prisoner was stretched.
Five priests secured his head and his
limbs, while the sixth, clad in a scarlet
mantle, emblematic of his bloody office,
dexterously opened the breast of the
wretched victim with a sharp razor of
itzili —a_ volcanic substance, hard as
flint—and, inserting his hand in the
wound, tore out the palpitating heart.
The minister of death, first holding this
up toward the sun—an object of worship
throughout Anahuac—cast it at the feet
of the deity to whom the temple was de-
voted, while the multitudes below pros-
trated themselves in humble adoration.
The tragic story of this prisoner was ex-
pounded by the priests as the type of hu-
man destiny which, brilliant in its com-
mencement, too often closes in sorrow
and disaster.
WOMEN AND CHILDREN OFFERED UP
Such was the form of human sacrifice
usually practised by the Aztecs. It was
the same that often met the indignant
eyes of the Europeans in their prozress
through the country, and from the dread-
ful doom of which they themselves were
not exempted. There were, indeed, some
occasions when preliminary tortures, of
the most exquisite kind—with which it is
unnecessary to shock the reader—were
inflicted, but they always terminated with
the bloody ceremony above described. It
should be remarked, however, that such
tortures were not the spontaneous sug-
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18
THE VOLCANO POPOCATEPETL, FROM THE VALLEY OF MEXICO
In the geography classes in school we are taught to pronounce the name of this beautiful
mountain Popo-cat-epetl, putting the emphasis on “‘cat.”’
The correct way is Popo-ca-tepetl.
The Aztec Indians joined the modifying adjective to its noun with a preposition just as we
join two nouns or two parts of a compound sentence with a conjunction.
The “ca” in the
word Popocatepetl is the conjunction which joins “popo,’ meaning smoking, to “tepetl,’
meaning hill.
gestions of cruelty, as with the North
American Indians, but were all rigorously
prescribed in the Aztec ritual, and doubt-
less were often inflicted with the same
compunctious visitings which a devout
familiar of the Holy Office might at times
experience in executing its stern decrees.
Women as well as the other sex were
sometimes reserved for sacrifice. On
some occasions, particularly in seasons of
drought, at the festival of the insatiable
19
Tlaloc, the god of rain, children, for the
most part infants, were offered up. As
they were borne along in open litters,
dressed in their festal robes and decked
with the fresh blossoms of spring, they
moved the hardest heart to pity, though
their cries were drowned in the wild
chant of the priests, who read in their
tears a favorable augury for their peti-
tion. ‘These innocent victims were gen-
erally bought by the priests of parents
WRECKS ON THE BEACH NEAR VERA CRUZ, MEXICO
And eloquent they are of a form of civilization that spends its energies on internecine war
rather than upon the improvement of the lanes of the near-by sea
who were poor, but who stifled the voice
of nature, probably less at the suggestions
of poverty than of a wretched supersti-
tion.
CANNIBALS WITH REFINED TASTES
~The most loathsome part of the story—
the manner in which the body of the sac-
rificed captive was disposed of—remains
yet to be told. It was delivered to the
warrior who had taken him in battle, and
by him, after being dressed, was served
up in an entertainment to his friends.
This was not the coarse repast of fam-
ished cannibals, but a banquet teeming
with delicious beverages and delicate
viands, prepared with art and attended
by both sexes, who conducted themselves
with all the decorum of civilized life.
Surely never were refinement and the ex-
treme of barbarism brought so closely in
contact with each other!
Human sacrifices have been practised
by many nations, not excepting the most
polished nations of antiquity, but never
by any on a scale to be compared with
those in Anahuac.
Agriculture in Mexico was in the same
advanced state as the other arts of social
life. In few countries, indeed, has it
been more respected. It was closely in-
terwoven with the civil and religious in-
stitutions of the nation. There were pe-
culiar deities to preside over it ; the names
of the months and of the religious festi-
vals had more or less reference to it.
Among the most important articles of
husbandry we may notice the banana.
Another celebrated plant was the cacao,
the fruit of which furnished the choco-
late—from the Mexican chocolatl—now
so common a beverage throughout Eu-
rope. The vanilla, confined to a small
district of the seacoast, was used for the
same purposes, of flavoring their food
and drink, as with us.
MEAL AND SUGAR FROM MAIZE
The great staple of the country, as, in-
deed, of the American continent, was
maize, or Indian corn, which grew freely
along the valleys and up the steep sides
of the Cordilleras to the high level of the
table-land. The Aztecs were as curious
in its preparation and as well instructed
in its manifold uses as the most expert
New England housewife. Its gigantic
stalks, in these equinoctial regions, af-
WEAVING A BLANKET IN INDIAN MEXICO
The hand-woven blankets made by the Indian girls, to whom a dime a day is a good
wage, although they begin work at sunrise and labor until sunset, are the admiration and
despair of all who appreciate fine handiwork or value perfect color combinations.
A small
blanket bought in Mexico City five years ago, although it has been used as a wall tapestry
ever since, seems as bright in every one of its rainbow colors as on the day it was bought.
The weaving is so perfect that it has no right or wrong side.
ford a saccharine matter not found to the
same extent in northern latitudes, and
supplied the natives with sugar little in-
ferior to that of the cane itself, which
was not introduced among them till after
the Conquest.
THE MAGUBY’S VERSATILITY
But the miracle of nature was the great
Mexican aloe, or maguey, whose cluster-
ing pyramids of flowers, towering above
their dark coronals of leaves, were seen
sprinkled over many a broad acre of the
table-land. As we have already noticed,
its bruised leaves afforded a paste from
which paper was manufactured; its juice
21
was fermented into an intoxicating bev-
erage, pulque, of which the natives to:
this day are excessively fond; its leaves
further supplied an impenetrable thatch
for the more humble dwellings; thread,
of which coarse stuffs were made, and
strong cords, were drawn from its tough
and twisted fibers; pins and needles were
made of the thorns at the extremity of its
leaves, and the root, when properly
cooked, was converted into a palatable
and nutritious food. The agave, in short,
was meat, drink, clothing, and writing
materials for the Aztec!
The Mexicans were as well acquainted
with the mineral as with the vegetable
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treasures of their kingdom. Silver, lead,
and tin they drew from the mines of
Tasco; copper from the mountains of
Zacotollan. ‘These were taken not only
from the crude masses on the surface, but
from veins wrought in the solid rock, into
which they opened extensive galleries.
In fact, the traces of their labors fur-
nished the best indications for the early
Spanish miners. Gold, found on the sur-
face or gleaned from the beds of rivers,
was cast into bars or, in the form of dust,
made part of the regular tribute of the
southern provinces of the empire. The
use of iron, with which the soil was im-
pregnated, was unknown to them. Not-
withstanding its abundance, it demands
so many processes to prepare it for use
that it has commonly been one of the last
metals pressed into the service of man.
They found a substitute in an alloy of
tin and copper, and with tools made of
this bronze could cut not only metals, but,
with the aid of a silicious dust, the hard-
est substances, as basalt, porphyry, ame-
thysts, and emeralds. They fashioned
these last, which were found very large,
into many curious and fantastic forms.
They cast, also, vessels of gold and silver,
carving them with their metallic chisels
in a very delicate manner. Some of the
silver vases were so large that a man
could not encircle them with his arms.
They imitated very nicely the figures of
animals, and, what was extraordinary,
could mix the metals in such a manner
that the feathers of a bird or the scales
of a fish should be alternately of gold and
silver. The Spanish goldsmiths admitted
their superiority over themselves in these
ingenious works.
SHAVING WITH STONE RAZORS
They employed another tool, made of
itztli, or obsidian, a dark transparent min-
eral, exceedingly hard, found in abun-
dance in their hills. They made it into
knives, razors, and their serrated swords.
It took a keen edge, though soon blunted.
With this they wrought the various stones.
and alabasters employed in the construc-
tion of their public works and principal
dwellings.
The most remarkable piece of sculpture
yet disinterred is the great calendar-stone.
OO
It consists of dark porphyry, and in its
original dimensions as taken from the
quarry is computed to have weighed
nearly fifty tons. It was transported
from the mountains beyond Lake Chalco,
a distance of many leagues, over a broken
country intersected by water-courses and
canals. In crossing a bridge which tra-
versed. one of these latter in the capital
the supports gave way, and the huge mass
was precipitated into the water, whence it
was with difficulty recovered. The fact
that so enormous a fragment of porphyry
could be thus safely carried for leagues,
in the face of such obstacles and without
the aid of cattle—for the Aztecs, as al-
ready mentioned, had no animals of
draught—suggests to us no mean ideas
of their mechanical skill and of their ma-
chinery, and implies a degree of cultiva-
tion little inferior to that demanded for
the geometrical and astronomical science
displayed in the inscriptions on this very
stone.
WONDERFUL DYES
The ancient Mexicans made utensils of
earthenware for the ordinary purposes
of domestic life, numerous specimens of
which still exist. They made cups and
vases of a lackered or painted wood, im-
pervious to wet and gaudily colored.
Their dyes were obtained from both min-
eral and vegetable substances. Among
them was the rich crimson of the cochi-
neal, the modern rival of the famed Ty-
rian purple. It was introduced into Eu-
rope from Mexico, where the curious
little insect was nourished with great care
on plantations of cactus, since fallen into
neglect. The natives were thus enabled
to give a brilliant coloring to the webs,
which were manufactured of every de-
gree of fineness from the cotton raised
in abundance throughout the warmer re-
gions of the country. They had the art,
also, of interweaving with these the deli-
cate hair of rabbits and other animals,
which made a cloth of great warmth as
well as beauty of a kind altogether origi-
nal, and on this they often laid a rich
embroidery of birds, flowers, or some
other fanciful device.
But the art in which they most de-
lighted was their plumaje, or feather-
7
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FIGHTING COCKS: QUERETARO, MEXICO
The peon with Spanish blood in his veins is nearly always fond of the sight of gore.
At a Mexican cockpit the betting is faster and more furious than the fun at a three-ring
circus, and the enthusiasm is about as great when the steel-spurred cocks cut one another to
pieces as when a mad bull gores a horse to death in the bull-ring.
would seem, is largely a question of geography.
work. With this they could produce all
the effect jof a: beautiful: mosaic. The
gorgeous plumage of the tropical birds,
especially of the parrot tribe, afforded
every variety of color; and the fine down
of the humming-bird, which reveled in
swarms among the honeysuckle bowers
of Mexico, supplied them with soft aérial
tints that gave an exquisite finish to the
picture. The feathers, pasted on a fine
cotton web, were wrought into dresses
for the wealthy, hangings for apartments,
and ornaments for the temples. No one
iN)
On
Moral sense, after all, it
of the American fabrics excited such ad-
miration in Europe, whither numerous
specimens were sent by the Conquerors.
The ancient city of Mexico covered the
same spot occupied by the modern capt-
tal. The great causeways touched it in
the same points; the streets ran in much
the same direction, nearly from north to
south and from east to west; the cathe-
dral in the plaza mayor stands on the
same ground that was covered by the
temple of the Aztec war-god, and the
four principal quarters of the town are
Photograph by John H. Hall
A PUBLIC SCRIBE: MEXICO
For four centuries the Spaniards and their descendants have ruled Mexico, but the ratio
of illiteracy to literacy is little changed since Cortez brought the Indians under the yoke of
Castile and Aragon.
still known among the Indians by their
ancient names.
Yet an Aztec of the days of Monte-
zuma, could he behold the modern me-
tropolis, which has risen with such phee-
nix-like splendor from the ashes of the
old, would not recognize its site as that
of his own Tenochtitlan; for the latter
was encompassed by the salt floods of
Tezcuco, which flowed in ample canals
through every part of the city, while the
Mexico of our day stands high and dry
on the main land, nearly a league distant
at its center from the water. The cause
of this apparent change in its position is
the diminution of the lake, which, from
the rapidity of evaporation in these ele-
vated regions, had become perceptible be-
fore the Conquest, but which has since
been greatly accelerated by artificial
causes.
THE CITY IMMACULATE
A careful police provided for the health
and cleanliness of the city. A numerous
retinue are said to have been daily em-
ployed in watering and sweeping the
streets, so that a man—to borrow the lan-
guage of an old Spaniard—“could walk
through them with as little danger of soil-
ing his feet as his hands.” ‘The water, in
a city washed on all sides by the salt
floods, was extremely brackish. A lib-
eral supply of the pure element, however,
was brought from Chapultepec, “the
grasshopper’s hill,” less than a league dis-
tant. It was brought through an earthen
pipe, along a dike constructed for the
purpose. That there might be no failure
in so essential an article when repairs
were going on, a double course of pipes
was laid. In this way a column of water
of the size of a man’s body was con-
ducted into the heart of the capital, where
it fed the fountains and reservoirs of the
principal mansions. Openings were made
in the aqueduct as it crossed the bridges,
and thus a supply was furnished to the
canoes below, by means of which it was
transported to all parts of the city.
While Montezuma encouraged a taste
ANBUS, IE SINSIS Ole AUNCIOZINAE MUS GKCO) 27
for architectural magnificence in his no-
bles, he contributed his own share to-
ward the embellishment of the city. It
was in his reign that the famous calendar-
stone, weighing, probably, in its primi-
tive state, nearly fifty tons, was trans-
ported from its native quarry, many
leagues distant, to the capital, where it
still forms one of the most curious monu-
ments of Aztec science. Indeed, when
we reflect on the difficulty of hewing such
a stupendous mass from its hard basaltic
bed without the aid of iron tools, and that
of transporting it such a distance across
land and water without the help of ani-
mals, we may well feel admiration at the
mechanical ingenuity and enterprise of
the people who accomplished it.
MONTEZUMA’S MAGNIFICENT MANSION
Not content with the spacious residence
of his father, Montezuma erected another
on a yet more magnificent scale. This
building, or, as it might more correctly
be styled, pile of buildings, spread over
an extent of ground so vast that, as one
of the Conquerors assures us, its terraced
roof might have afforded ample room for
thirty knights to run their courses in a
regular tourney. Remarkable were its
interior decorations, its fanciful draper-
ies, its roofs inlaid with cedar and other
odoriferous woods, held together with-
out a nail and, probably, without a knowl-
edge of the arch, its numerous and spa-
cious apartments, which Cortés, with en-
thusiastic hyperbole, does not hesitate to
declare superior to anything of the kind
in Spain.
Adjoining the principal edifice were
others devoted to various objects. One
was an armory, filled with the weapons
and military dresses worn by the Aztecs,
all kept in the most perfect order, ready
for instant use. The emperor was him-
self very expert in the management of
the maquahuitl, or Indian sword, and
took great delight in witnessing athletic
exercises and the mimic representation
of war by his young nobility. Another
building was used as a granary, and
others as warehouses for the different ar-
ticles of food and apparel contributed by
the districts charged with the mainte-
nance of the royal household.
There were also edifices appropriated
to objects of quite another kind. One of
these was an immense aviary, in which
birds of splendid plumage were assem-
bled from all parts of the empire. Here
was the scarlet cardinal, the golden
pheasant, the endless parrot tribe, with
their rainbow hues (the royal green pre-
dominant), and that miniature miracle of
nature, the humming-bird, which delights
to revel among the honeysuckle bowers
of Mexico. Three hundred attendants
had charge of this aviary, who made
themselves acquainted with the appro-
priate food of its inmates, oftentimes pro-
cured at great cost, and in the moulting
season were careful to collect the beauti-
ful plumage, which, with its many-colored
tints, furnished the materials for the Az-
tec painter.
A separate building was reserved. for
the fierce birds of prey; the voracious
vulture tribes and eagles of enormous
size, whose home was in the snowy soli-
tudes of the Andes. No less than five
hundred turkeys, the cheapest meat in
Mexico, were allowed for the daily con-
sumption of these tyrants of the feath-
ered race
THE AZTEC ZOO DESCRIBED
Adjoining this aviary was a menagerie
of wild animals, gathered from the moun-
tain forests, and even from the remote
swamps of the tierra caliente.
The collection was still further swelled
by a great number of reptiles and ser-
pents remarkable for their size and ven-
omous qualities, among which the Span-
iards beheld the fiery little animal ‘with
the castanets in his tail,” the terror of the
American wilderness. The serpents were
confined in long cages lined with down
or feathers or in troughs of mud and
water.
The beasts and birds of prey were pro-
vided with apartments large enough to
allow of their moving about, and secured
by a strong lattice-work, through which
light and air were freely admitted. The
whole was placed under the charge of
numerous keepers, who acquainted them-
selves with the habits of their prisoners
and provided for their comfort and clean-
liness.
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ASS WO. Ole AINCISINAY WE YaKCO) 29
With what deep interest would the en-
lightened naturalist of that day—an
Oviedo, or a Martyr, for example—have
surveyed this magnificent collection, in
which the various tribes which roamed
over the Western wilderness, the un-
known races of an unknown world, were
brought into one view! How would they
have delighted to study the peculiarities
of these new species, compared with those
of their own hemisphere, and thus have
risen to some comprehension of the gen-
eral laws by which Nature acts in all’ her
works! The rude followers of Cortés
did not trouble themselves with such re-
fined speculations. ‘They gazed on the
spectacle with a vague curiosity not un-
mixed with awe, and as they listened to
the wild cries of the ferocious animals
and the hissings of the serpents they al-
most fancied themselves in the infernal
regions.
A ROYAL MUSEUM OF HUMAN FREAKS
I must not omit to notice a strange col-
lection of human monsters, dwarfs, and
other unfortunate persons, in whose or-
ganization Nature had capriciously devi-
ated from her regular laws. Such hide-
ous anomalies were regarded by the Az-
tecs as a suitable appendage of state. It
is even said they were in some cases the
result of artificial means, employed by
unnatural parents desirous to secure a
provision for their offspring by thus
qualifying them for a place in the royal
museum !
Extensive gardens were spread out
around these buildings, filled with fra-
grant shrubs and flowers, and especially
with medicinal plants. No country has
afforded more numerous species of these
last than New Spain, and their virtues
were perfectly understood by the Aztecs,
with whom medical botany may be said
to have been studied as a science. Amidst
this labyrinth of sweet-scented groves
and shrubberies fountains of pure water
might be seen throwing up their spark-
ling jets and scattering refreshing dews
over the blossoms. ‘Ten large tanks, well
stocked with fish, afforded a retreat on
their margins to various tribes of water-
fowl, whose habits were so carefully con-
sulted that some of these ponds were of
salt water, as that which they most loved
to frequent. SULT V O- Wa V MA
A THREE-HANDED GAME OF MONTE
The Mexican peon loves excitement, and while bull-fighting is his first enthusiasm and
cock-fighting a substitute for times and places which offer none of that amusement, monte
and keno are the ever-ready means of relieving the tedium of quiet.
guided by wire ropes, are used for hoist-
ing men, rock, and supplies, and even an
experienced engineer is excused a feeling
of fear and trepidation when straddling
the bale over this yawning hole. ‘The al-
most nude natives, oblivious of danger,
jumped aboard, holding their torch of
candles in the free hand, and as they were
lowered began to sing. A flood of melody
filled the shaft, a full crescendo reverber-
ated from wall to wall, followed by softer
cadences, and as I peered down into the
hole the bucket continued its slow de-
scent, the lights of the torches became
more and more indistinct, the darkness
deepened, the prayerful song came up
with decreasing volume until it seemed
like a distant echo from the unknown.
Then there was no light visible; no an-
them audible, and I[ involuntarily said
Amen
Guanajuato is a city rich in historic
record, in its mines, in its natural beauty,
and in its architecture. To describe even
briefly the many things of interest would
occupy more space than can be given to
this article; but mention must be made of
the theater, the prison, the Pantheon, the
Esperanza dam, and some of the many
churches along the Veta Madre.
El Teatro Juarez faces the plaza in the
center of the city. It is an imposing pile,
perhaps out of keeping with its surround-
ings; but Guanajuato is a city wherein
the picturesque and strictly practical are
irreconcilably mixed together. The de-
STREET IN GUANAJUATO, MEXICO
The Guanajuato River formerly ran through the center of the city, a swirling, churning,
much-bridged mountain stream. But every heavy rainfall in the mountains brought a flood
to the city, sometimes with the most disastrous consequences. Finally, a cloud-burst in 1905
caused so much damage that a tunnel was constructed to divert the overflow. The project
cost $350,000.
bo
on
RITE NSTERAY T TAPCERLA
|
|
A CARAVAN OF PACK ANIMALS COMING IN FROM THE COUNTRY
Americans are wont to employ the mule as a symbol of stubbornness and to speak of
the donkey as the epitome of stupidity, but patience and meekness are the outstanding char-
acteristics of these animals in Mexico. With rations on which an American sheep or a
European goat would go hungry, the burdens which these poor beasts are forced to bear are
out of all proportion to their strength and size, and they are driven many a weary mile over
bridle-paths where a horse would find hard traveling; yet they are always docile and uncom-
plaining, as if adversity were a stranger to them. Imagine a dozen donkeys transformed
into as many lumber wagons, with long g, heavy boards strapped on each side, and driven a
dozen miles without food, except now and then a chance bit of prickly foliage which they
manage to nip as they walk along!
53
54 THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
sign is modern and highly decorative,
built of the local green tuff and sand-
stone. The superb portico, with its eight
bronze figures,
pillars; the imposing steps, with stately
flambeau, the wrought-iron grille work,
the spacious foyer, and the richly deco-
rated interior by Herrara are truly mag-
nificent.
The Alhondiga de Granaditas (prison)
is as constantly full as the theater is
empty. It is one of the most historic
buildings of the Republic, and will always
be remembered not as a storehouse of
grain, not as a prison, which it now is,
but as the place where the first blow was
struck for the liberation of Mexico from
Spanish rule. Ouadrangular in shape,
with a central patio, a row of small Moor-
ish windows near the top, the lower floor
Tuscan, the upper Doric, the building has
no architectural beauty.
At each corner is a large hook, from
which, in the days of the struggle for in-
dependence, were hung four iron cages
containing the heads of the great liber-
ators—the patriot priest, Hidalgo, his
military chief, Allende, and his comrades,
Aldama and Jimenez. Here they hung
for years until removed by a w orshiping
nation to the Altar of Kings in the cathe-
dral of the City of Mexico. After the
Grito de Dolores and the first ringing of
the bell of Independence, Hidalgo and
his followers moved on to Guanajuato,
stormed the improvised fortress of Al-
hondiga, and killed all the Spanish troops
that had taken refuge there. This was
the beginning of the eleven years’ war of
Independence.
GRINNING MUMMIES IN GHASTLY ARRAY
On the summit of the Cerro del Tro-
zada, to the west of the city, is the Pan-
theon. The four high walls surrounding
the cemetery consist of vaults, tier upon
tier, in which the remains of the dead are
placed pro tem. or in perpetuity, accord-
ing to the ability of the surviving rela-
tives to pay the rent. It is not an uncom-
mon but a gruesome sight to see a burro
plodding w earily up the hill with a cas-
ket, hired for the occasion, strapped on
its back.
is borne on twelve [onic -
At the gates disposal of the remains is
summarily made if the deceased was pov-
erty stricken, or maybe a niche in the
walls is rented for a period of five years,
after which time the bones will be placed
in a common ossuary. For a small fee
the attendant will admit the visitor to the
“chamber of horrors.” A winding stair
leads to the crypt, where ghastly, mum-
mified remains are placed in a ghostly
row, grinning resentment at the curious.
E1 Palacio Legislativo is another civic
monument, designed by Louis Long and
decorated by Nicolas Gonzales and Clau-
dio Molina. It is an edifice of three sto-
ries, the first floor being the Hall of Con-
gress, containing many oil paintings of
national heroes.
The water supply of Guanajuato has
been carefully planned. It is both ample
in quantity and of good quality. The
run-off from the mountainous watershed
is impounded by a series of dams of ex-
cellent structural and artistic workman-
ship. The Esperanza dam, built of na-
tive stone, is 95 feet high and wholly in
keeping with the extravagance of a mu-
nificent municipality.
GUANAJ UATO’S MANY CHURCHES
If the religious fervor of the people is
measured by the number of churches,
then surely we are in a pious community.
In the city proper are many historic piles,
with painfully modern interiors. Perhaps
the finest is the Compania, a Jesuit foun-
dation, built in 1747-1765. Its single
tower contains some bells of exception-
ally fine tones, the largest of which was
blessed, in 1852, by Bishop Timon, of
Buffalo, then resident in Mexico. The
Jesuits founded their first church in
Guanajuato in 1557, which later became
the Collegio de la Purisima Concepci6n.
The venerated image of Nuestra Sefora
de Guanajuato, the gift of Philip II of
Spain, was enshrined here until moved to
the parish church of San Francisco, dedi-
cated to San Juan de Dios and completed
in 1696. After the suppression of the
Juaninos by the Franciscans, in 1828, the
original beauty of this sacred edifice was
lost in its renovation, so that today it is a
distressing patchwork.
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A GYPSY FORTUNE-TELLER: SAN LUIS POTOSI, MEXICO
San Luis Potosi is another of those Mexican cities with a population of more than 60,000
which causes the traveler to wonder how it manages to exist. The country around is so dry
and parched that it would seem that it could not even partially provision a city of such size.
But silver is the key to the secret. Mexican history shows that cities always grow close to
silver mines, and that inhospitality of soil cannot counteract the magnetism of silver.
60
A RURAL HIGHWAY: SAN PABLO, MEXICO
The cactus fences of Mexico are an interesting sight to the foreigner. They have the
valuable quality of permanency, although their tendency to spread out and appropriate more
space than an orthodox fence should occupy is a disadvantage.
61
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Still more pretentious and decidedly
more picturesque are the churches on the
Veta Madre, thank offerings for the ma-
terial blessings vouchsafed to the chosen
few in the early days of mining. Each
mine supported its own thriving com-
munity, its priest, and its church. Cata,
Rayas, and San Cayetano still raise their
cathedral spires in peaceful benediction,
their whitened domes reflecting the glo-
ries of the setting sun as their hushed
aisles recall the ritual of the noonday of
mining activity.
A WONDERFUL EDIFICE
The church of Valenciana (San Caye-
tano) has not been despoiled; neither
time nor marauding man has changed its
imposing grandeur; the grayness of its
walls and the tarnish of its altars give to
it an additional touch of peace (see pic-
Lines agen 36). Antonio Obregon, to
commemorate the finding of the great
Valenciana bonanza, began building this
church 1n 1765 and completed it 20 years
later. The exterior ornamentation sug-
gests Arabesque influences, but the archi-
tecture is unknown. Above the dome its
an arrow, supposed to point the direction
of the Mother Lode. Its interior decora-
tion, altars, and furnishings testify to the
lavish hand of the builder. The high
altar is heavy with silver; piers, arches,
and roofs are elaborately carved and
show the individuality of the artisans, and
the inlaid pulpit is one of the finest in
Mexico. Let us hope that this monument,
at least, will long escape the desecrating
hand of vandalism and the ravages of
warfare.
Six years after the conquest of Mexico
the old Spanish fortress of Santa Ana
was built to repress the depredations of
the Chichimecas, an Indian tribe, who
were constantly menacing the travelers
from Zacatecas to the coast. Twenty-
two years later silver ores were discov-
- ered in this district, and an old document,
found in the archives of the Court of
Mines, Guanajuato, records the de-
nouncement of the Rayas mine. Nine
years later the Rayas and Mellado mines
pointed conclusively to the existence of a
mineralized lode—the Veta Madre de
Guanajuato, extending from Tapeyac to
Sierra. This was during the reign of
Queen Elizabeth.
NO MUSHROOM GROWTH
The mining history of Guanajuato vies
with that of the Nevadan gold camps of
our days, only that instead of the unsub-
stantial mushroom growth, typifying the
American mining booms, permanent and
lasting monuments were raised, and re-
main as mute though eloquent testimony
of former industry and wealth.
In the year 1600 there were 4,000 men
at work along the Mother Lode. A few
years later the Sierra vein system was
found and, according to established cus-
tom, material blessings were reflected in
pious charities. In the “Efemerides
Guanajuatenses” there is mention of the
blessing of a baptismal font in the chapel
of El Cubo. In 1619 a royal patent was
granted to this industrial center, whereby
it received the dignity of the name of
Villa Real de Guanajuato.
That slavery flourished in these early
days is evidenced by two proclamations
of 1590 and 1667, prohibiting the sale of
Indians as slaves and the branding of a
slave in the face. In 1700 the Villa Real
de Guanajuato claimed a population of
16,000, mostly recruited from old Spain.
Mining methods were most crude, ex-
plosives were unknown, and the only way
of breaking rock was by building fires
against an exposed rock-face and, while
hot, dashing cold water on it, causing it
to crack and split off.
The eighteenth century marked an era
of progress and unprecedented pros-
perity. A record of precious-metal pro-
duction was established, which our Com-
stocks, our ‘Tonopahs, Goldfields, and
other Western bonanzas have not ap-
proached. Gunpowder was used in bore-
holes, pumping machinery was installed,
and development advanced to greater
depths; the output increased, and many
of the peon mine-owners became so
wealthy and attained such power and
celebrity that they were granted patents
of nobility by the King of Spain and were
counted among the élite of the Spanish
aristocracy. Francisco Mathias de Busto,
owner of the Cata mine, became Viscount
de Duarte; José de Sardaneta, on finding
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TO TOWN:
HIGHLAND MEXICO
The rural peon visiting the city for a day usually has what seems to him a good time.
The most essential requisite is enough money to buy pulque in sufficient quantity to produce
that hilarity which makes one forget his work for the nonce.
the Santa Rosa and San Miguel bonanzas
in the Rayas mine, was created Marquis
de Rayas, and Antonio Obregon y Alco-
car, the discoverer of the great ore shoot
of the Valenciana, was made Count de
Valenciana.
PROSPERITY —BEGOTTEN PIETY
The munificence of these grandees
found expression in works of piety. Ob-
regon built the church of Valenciana, al-
ready described. Rayas commemorated
the San Miguel bonanza by an enduring
monument at the mine, the sculptured
portal being surmounted by a statue of
the archangel Michael.
In 1741 Guanajuato was made a city,
and had at that time nearly 100,000 in-
habitants.
The deepest shaft on the Mother Lode,
until very recent years, was the Tiro Gen-
Ss)
66
eral, at the Valenciana mine. It was sunk
by Obregon at a cost of one million pesos,
but the bonanza it uncovered yielded over
three hundred times its cost. It is 1,807
feet deep, 32 feet in diameter, octagonal
in section, and lined with solid masonry
for the first 100 feet. In striking con-
trast to our modern shafts, not a stick of
timber was used to support the walls.
Hoisting was accomplished by mule
power. Eight malacates, or horse whims,
one hoisting from each face of the octa-
gon, raised the broken rock to the sur-
face in rawhide buckets. Water now
stands in the shaft 600 feet below the
collar, and during the summer solstice,
when the sun is directly overhead, rain-
bows play in the mist above the water.
There is something strangely weird about
this great hole.
The Rayas shaft, 1,400 feet deep, also
THE CATHEDRAL:
MEXICO CITY, MEXICO
This splendid structure is one of the most imposing ecclesiastical edifices in the western
world.
Situated on the north side of the Plaza of the Constitution, on the east side of
which stands the “White House” of Mexico, it occupies a position commensurate with its
architectural and religious dignity.
to its interior decoration.
octagonal, is wider still, being 38 feet
across, while the Cata, 20 feet wide,
reached down to the silver shoots 1,000
feet below.
In those days, when the tithes paid the
King of Spain ran into millions of pesos,
the Veta Madre was honeycombed with
mine workings, bonanzas were exhausted,
while others were being sought; each
mine was surrounded by high solid ma-
sonry walls, and entrance to the patio was
through guarded gates. Mining opera-
tions were conducted on a large scale,
6
It is said that devout Mexicans contributed $1,850,000
but, while labor was cheap, costs were
heavy, appliances crude, water was an
unsurmountable obstacle, methods of
treating ore most primitive, and geolog-
ical knowledge almost a negligible quan-
tity. The output began to fall off in 1810,
and during revolutionary times work was
practically suspended. Nearly a hundred
years elapsed before interest was revived
in the Guanajuato mines. Recent chem-
ical, mechanical, and geological re-
searches may give the Guanajuato dis-
trict another long lease of life.
silts: meer met z «
© Underwood & Underwood
VIEW DOWN THE VIGA CANAL: MEXICO CITY
This tree-lined waterway is as picturesque as a Venetian canal, if one forgets the crumb-
ling palaces; but one cannot help lamenting that it enters the city by the back door. On
week-day mornings the busy boats carry food and flowers to the city, making it appear as if
Mexico were fed and decorated via this canal.
\
io)
THE VENICE OF MEXICO
By WaLtTrer HoucH
eler in Mexico is a visit to the
home of the Aztec lake dwellers. Much
of the charm of the great Valley of Mex-
ico, where they live, is due to the stretches
of water among the trees and verdant
fields in a landscape framed in beautiful
mountains and bathed with clearest air of
heaven.
Their lakes — /Texcoco, Xochimilco,
Zumpango, and Chalco—do not reveal
themselves except from the high moun-
tains encircling the valley. They are
shallow bodies of water in the midst of
extensive marshes, unapproachable, and
lacking the effect of our lakes with their
definite shore-lines. For this reason, they
have never been highways of civilized
commerce, nor has navigation flourished
in their shallow waters; but they were
from these very hindrances destined to be
jealous mothers of ancient and remark-
able States, whose people, protected in the
fens, dug out canals and developed an
indigenous commerce and transportation
to the fullest extent.
NE of the pleasurable experiences
among those that delight the trav-
DRAINING THE LAKES OF THE VALLEY OF
MEXICO
They were for modern man a constant
menace during seasons of flood and have
required enormous engineering works to
keep them in bounds. The first of these,
never of great value, was begun some
300 years ago, and exists at the present
time as a gigantic ditch over 13 miles
long, 197 feet deep, and 361 feet wide,
dug by the patient labor of impressed
Indians, and called the Tajo de Nochis-
tongo. The latest undertaking is a cana!
connecting the three lakes and leading
their waters out of the valley by a tunnel
through the eastern mountains. ‘This
splendid piece of engineering, completed
some years ago, effectually controls the
height of the water in the lakes and pre-
vents inundations.
But long before Cortez came the In-
dians of the valley worked in the boggy
lake lands and dug canals hither and
thither—main canals between the lakes
and to the great city of ‘Tenochtitlan
and smaller canals between their fields.
Through this maze of waterways, then
as now, they sent their boats and in the
fens built their thatched houses. His-
torically, Cortez was the first European
boat-builder in the New World, when of
an imperious necessity he launched his
brigantines, of quaint sixteenth century
pattern, if one may believe the artists, in
the reeking waters of Tezcoco at the spot
near Huejutla, where there is now
M\
JOC
aT
to)
IN
OLD CHURCH AT TLALPUJAHUA, MEXICO
Tlalpujahua is in the region inhabited by the Tarascan Indians, which lies due west of
Mexico City. According to Prescott, the Tarascans had a Noah, called Trezpi, who escaped
from a great flood in a boat laden with animals. Instead of a dove, Trezpi sent out a vulture
first, and then a humming-bird, according to the legend. The methods of courtship in vogue
among the Tarascans are peculiar. The lover goes to the spring where the object of his
affection is accustomed to fill her water-jar. He holds her shawl until she accepts him, and
then, with a stick, he breaks the jar which she holds on her head and gives her a betrothal
baptism of water. These Indians once possessed the secret of tempering copper, an art now
lost to the world.
ON THE CHINAMPAS CANAL, NEAR MEXICO CITY
In normal times life is easy in peon Mexico.
Four centuries of penury have bred the
love of luxury out of the natives’ make-up, and they are now inured to hardships that would
grind the very soul out of an American.
princely income to the Mexican peon.
highway from under umbrageous trees.
Flotsam and jetsam in the canal are va-
grant bulbs and flowers of water hya-
cinth, a wicked, beautiful plant, whose
reproductivity makes men work to keep
it down, but here it has met its match and
is made to be useful. Bridges there are,
and most quaint, like that perfect arch of
Ixticaleo, under which white geese seem
to float in the air.
One feels that this panorama should
last forever, especially if he does not have
to supply the labor of locomotion. Here
at this landing at Xochimilco it must be
realized that the mere first leaves of our
NI
Sy
What the average American wastes would seem a
experience, the loveliness of the country
of the lake dwellers, are just unfolding.
HIDDEN BEAUTIES OF XOCHIMILCO
The town is really built on terra firma,
as the seven churches, each well supplied
with raucous bells, the streets of quaint
houses, and the broad lava-paved prehis-
toric market-place, well attest; but the
town disguises and hides away the life of
the canals and gardens, and its attrac-
tions for the tourist are soon compassed.
We turn into a narrow lane leading
away from the formal streets and emerge
into an Indian dooryard, and within a
‘910Y} Uddaq SABA TL SPY 9Y—oaIN}eNY OF} xed OS 0} poou jOU SoOp d}T
UOTJONIJSUOD S}I UI UOIT JO 9daId & JNOYYM osnoy e pur ‘MOINS B IO [IVU B JNOY}IM UOSeM B “OJOYIVUT B ULY} [OO] Joy}O OU Y}IAL aspliqg Ve pymaq uvo of{
‘SHIuosS & JO SUIYJOWIOS ST UPOTXOTY 9} ‘Qoueysip-e-1e-ATjsnpuy Aq Uvy} Joye puey-ye-o1njeyy Aq poptaoid ssury} FO osn SUTYeUL JO FAV OY} UY
WIAIWM NVOIXUIT V ONINNVdS HOCINdG WNIA V
THE COLLEGIATE CHURCH, WITH THE CHAPEL ON THE HILL IN THE BACKGROUND
This is the holiest shrine in Mexico. It stands on the site where the Virgin is reputed
to have appeared to an Indian, Juan Diego, instructing him to take a message to the arch-
bishop asking that a shrine be built there in her honor. After appearing to him several times,
she finally commanded him to climb to the top of the hill, where the chapel now stands, but
which had always been barren, and there to gather a bunch of roses to take to the archbishop.
This he did; but when he unfolded his serape it was found to contain, so the account runs,
a miraculously painted picture of the Virgin.
and occupies the center of the altar.
princess.
few feet of us is the main canal with its
boats and floating water plants. ‘The in-
habitants of this little house group into
which we have come as from another
sphere are interested and friendly and
ready to visit.
José, the active leader of the family, is
going to take us to see the sights of the
lake, and soon we are darting along other
water streets bordered with spire-like
willows, turning the corners and passing
impressionistic gardens of cabbages, let-
tuce, pinks, and roses, until all sense of
direction is lost. Soon the waterscapes
become more extensive, and the bare-
legged Aztec boatmen bring up over Los
Ojos, the springs, which they call the
source of the lake, and hold in a venera-
tion inculcated by ancient lore and cus-
toms. Really, the spot is most impressive.
When the Xochimilcans, in the days of
their idolatry, worshiped their lacustrian
This picture is now venerated by all Mexicans
79
The features and complexion are those of an Indian
spring, they placed therein a black stone
image on the sparkling sand bottom of
the crater-like fountain, where it was
surrounded with plumy water plants, and
to this deity offerings of copal, pottery,
and other effects were made.
IDOLS AND SKULLS IN SPRING
Sahagun relates the sincere pleasure
which he felt when he accomplished the
raising of the god of the fountain from
his mossy bed and substituted in the place
a stone cross. This holy object can no
longer be seen; but the litter of broken
pottery now there is not ancient, and one
suspects that the costumbre of oblations
may have come down to modern times.
Several bleached skulls of horses were
also seen in the spring—why no one can
tell; but probably there is a folk belief or
a horse worship begun with those war
steeds of Cortez, to account for it. ‘The
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}E JVYM ‘suorso1 [eINI Ul sJoyMAToAo soutsds puv [JOM PUL solpUNUUIOD UPqIN UL [esIOATUN St JojyeM-de} o1ayM AIQUNOD B UT ‘oZI[va1 OF pAeY SI I]
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Ris, 3
URROe “eto
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Bo FO puof AOA JIL AOYT, “[MOF PTI Suyuny pure surysy Aq Suray 1194} oYPUL Pue SJnosnp soy dAtjrutid asn Ady, *Asessosou ATaNJOsqe usyM
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ODIXHW :OUVNOZLVd AMV’
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DALY] USUOM Sap}}eVq ULIIXW OY} JO AULUT UT ‘AAT UdAP[IYD PUL SOATM 9Y} 91OYM UO!JOS B JUSUIdUIvIUA UBIIXITT B IVOU PUNOF oq OF
LOOGVY WHHL SNIMOTIO’ SYAIGTIOS NVOIXYN AHL JO NHYYGTIHO GNV SHAIM AIL
poOMIDpuL) Y pooasapuy, ©
SABM]EC ST 919
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8
Photograph by Frank H. Probert
OFFERING DRAWN-WORK FOR SALE TO TOURISTS ON A MEXICAN RAILROAD
The Mexican Indian woman seems to have been born with a needle in her hand. Her
drawn-work, for delicacy, beauty, and grace of design, is surpassed by none in the world.
She can take the sheerest of handkerchief linen and draw out threads in a way that is the
admiration and despair of many a cultured needlewoman.
springs have come out of their mystery
in recent years and have been prosaically
made to supply purer water to the City
of Mexico.
These springs, as one sees them now,
are bowls 100 feet in diameter and 30 to
40 feet deep, with water clear as crystal
and cold, bursting up in the lake at the
foot of the Sierra de Ajusco and fed by
the snows. It is a remarkable experience
to lunch there and drink the good water
to the health of the spirit of the springs
who has a choice assortment of broken
crockery in his keeping. Views of snowy
83
Popocatepetl are glimpsed up the vistas
of the lanes between the floating gardens
on the return and heighten the lovely re-
flections of the evening.
The houses of the amiable Xochimilcos
are flimsy structures, but well-built and
neat, and a visitor receives quite a favor-
able impression of the people. The pretty
children make friends easily and load
down the Americano with presents of
flowers loved by the lake dwellers as
they were by their Aztec ancestors. Any
one who shows a liking for flowers has
won the way to their affection.
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OU} UF USM SI IOAA [NOS dy} WOIF JYSIOM & FFI] OF IO JrvaYy OY} UOd}YSI] 0} III] SI a19yy ‘AUOJOUOU JaqtOS S}I UI Suissaidop odevospury oyy ‘100d
a]dood oy} ‘ajitajs pur] oy} ‘uorseq ‘oye,Osaq ‘OOTXOP UsoYIOU UeY} Usieduied 0} YIYM UL UOISaI ajqeyrdsoyur o10ul v puy jou pynoo uoneu vy
ODIXHUW NI YHIH AVd-XIS V JO GNX AHL LV AMINVANI ‘S ‘a
pooMiopuy) N PpooMiopuy) oO
as ©
Photograph by Capt. D. H. Scott, U. S. A.
A PAIR OF MEXICAN SUSPECTS
These sheep may be camp pets, but their days of preferment depend largely upon the ‘
ability of the commissary department to supply other stewing ingredients.
The training of
burros and sheep as pets serves to break the monotony of camp life during periods of inaction
in Mexico.
lambs old tricks.
In the slip of the canal are the boats
owned by the Indians living in the little
group of three or four houses belonging
to our friends, who combine the voca-
tions of boatmen, gardeners, and fisher-
men, the latter plying huge nets that seem
oversized for the tiny quarry inhabiting
the desolate lakes. ‘The gardener works
with the primitive tools of his ancestors,
and the boatman takes extravagant pride.
in his dugout chaloupe, which is his an-
cient water vehicle, and also prizes his
passenger canoe and freight barge, if his
family is rich enough to own them.
GARDENS BUILT ‘ON HYACINTH
FOUNDATIONS
Without moving from José’s dooryard,
we may by good fortune see a neighbor
constructing a “floating” garden, and we
are carried back without effort several
centuries into the past. From the canals
ve)
UL
Hours are spent and patience tested while off duty in trying to teach young
the busy Aztecs throw great masses of
water hyacinth upon the strip of bog to
the thickness of a foot or more. The
water hyacinth, which unfortunately does
not fit into the ancient picture, is pro-
vided with large cellular floats—a natural
provision for its dissemination, which
has made it an obstruction to navigation
in some of our southern rivers.
Upon this bed of floats they spread a
layer of muck, dredged from the bottom
of the canals. Perhaps before the plant
floats have decayed, these gardens may
drift away should the water rise. Even
now on portions of the lake square miles
of vegetation cover the surface like the
“sudd” of the Nile, and the canal roads
have to be staked at the sides to keep
them from disappearing. Great drifts of
microscopic vegetation cover the stag-
nant water of the open lakes with a man-
tle lovely in color, while the bottom is
SUTEJUNOW UBSIXoW Ysno1y} pue spuvs uvosxoy{ Jaao Aousnofl apmi-Zh Suinsyey e s93ze dures ye Suratsie Arpearo UBITIOULY IY} JO s1odoo1 7,
ODIXUN NI AWIVAVO UNO FO MYOM GIGNATds
pooMiopuy) VY poomiopug O
+ a - , arcatsenan
svinnieiler
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AaVS, WidINIKCIT Ole. MESCKe@) 87
coral red from a weed that thrives in the
water.
The term “floating gardens” was prop-
erly applied by the early historians of
Mexico to masses of water weeds covered
with a layer of rushes bearing a thin
layer of soil, employed by the Mexicans
at a period when the fluctuating waters
of the lakes prevented the formation of
permanent chinampas, and so in the New
World the Indians repeated the famed
gardens of the lakes of Cashmere.
FLOATING GARDENS REQUIRE IRRIGATION
From the abundance at José’s and on
every side it is evident that the Xochim-
ileans are expert gardeners and assidu-
ous at their work. Most of their plants
are started in seed beds, from which they
are transplanted to the chinampas, and
it is strange to see boat loads of corn
sprouts brought to be planted in this
manner. Curiously enough, these morass
gardens sometimes require irrigation,
which is accomplished by throwing on
water from the canal with a wooden
scoop.
While we sit in these peaceful sur-
roundings, we cannot but reflect that in
some ways it is hard to convince the ordi-
nary observer that the modern is the
ancient, and make him realize how much
the life of this lake village is a vivid ren-
dering of that of the prehistoric lake
dwelling, whose cycle extended from the
rude Stone Age through the Bronze Age
to the Iron Age, and whose lost and cast-
off objects sunk in the mud, form now a
wondrous museum filled with the history
of their progress—the romance of art,
wars, and love otherwise unchronicled in
an era when letters were not known. So
the story was repeated in Florida, in
Venezuela, in Ireland, in the Vale of
Cashmere, in the East Indies, and in
various parts of the world where tribes
lived over the water for protection.
The Xochimilcos settled in prehistoric
times at a place now called the South of
the Valley, and later they extended their
villages to the southern slope of Popo-
catepetl and along the mountains that
connect the great volcano with the Sierra
de Ajusco, which overhangs the lovely
valley of Mexico.
MAKING UNFRIENDLY NATURE A SERVANT
It is said that when the Aztecs came to
Anahuac they were not strong in num-
ber and were compelled to inhabit the
morasses, because they had not power to
dispossess the settled populations which
had occupied the favored locations. In
this seemingly inhospitable but, as we
have seen, protecting and stimulating en-
vironment, the Aztecs gradually increased
in population and culture and became
powerful enough to sweep away the an-
cient civilizations that occupied the val-
ley and make themselves masters of their
heritage.
These movements had been accom-
plished when Cortez came on the scene.
The vast floods, which were very de-
structive to the towns situated on land
lying little distance above the water level.
did not much incommode the hardy lake
dwellers, whose gardens would float, if
necessary, riding moored to stakes, until
the waters fell.
The visitor to the homes of the Xochi-
milcos may thus reconstruct history that
is replete with interest. He will see, as
Cortez saw, a people lighter in color than
any North American Indians, below me-
dium stature, with muscular and well-
knit bodies commendably clean through
daily ablutions.
SORROW AT BIRTH; JOY AT DEATH
It cannot be said that the Xochimilcan
man has an open and ingenuous counte-
nance, but it shows force of character
and lights up quickly in response to kind-
ness and recognition. The young women
have round, often ruddy, but rather ex-
pressionless faces ; the children are pretty,
and the older women are better preserved
than the women of the Pueblos of the
southwestern United States. Both sexes
work hard, and where there is such uni-
formity of poverty the struggle for exist-
ence makes life a serious matter and en-
graves deep lines in the faces of the
breadwinners.
Thus a birth is heralded with mourning
and a death with rejoicing. Their music
is monotonous and disagreeable to the
educated ear, and their amusements seem
to be few; but, given advantages, these
people show skill in the arts, and as
88 THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
musicians they have made the Mexican
bands known all over the world. They
are gifted, besides, with a singular tenac-
ity of purpose and mentally are capable
of receiving a high education, which we
may hope will be accepted with modera-
tion.
What will be their future when their
swamps are drained and their old lake-
dweller life merged into the humdrum of
farmers? If by good fortune they are
kept from the deadly effects of alcohol,
that chief moloch of the Mexican Indian,
no doubt they will live happily on the dry
lake bottom as before in the days of
Montezuma.
Tae TATES® MAP OF MEXICO
EspECIALLY COMPILED FOR THE MEMBERS OF THE NATIONAL
GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY
HE attention of the members of the
Society is called to the map of Mex-
ico presented in this number, 20” x 20”
in size, and printed in four colors. Noth-
ing has been left undone to make this the
most accurate, the most detailed, and yet
the most easily read map of that country
ever compiled, embracing the very latest
information obtainable from authorita-
tive sources. It not only shows all of the
transportation lines, but every station of
even passing interest, as well as the vil-
lages and towns off of the beaten paths.
The map is drawn on a scale of 67.6
miles to the inch and has an insert, drawn
to a scale of 33.8 miles to the inch, show-
ing the great region embraced between
Tampico and Vera Cruz on the east and
Morelia, Guanajuato, and San Luis Po-
tosi on the west. There is also a very
helpful drawing which shows the size of
Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Is-
land, and eastern New York in compari-
son with Mexico.
In addition to this, there is a small
physical map showing elevations in Mex-
ico. It gives at a glance a graphic por-
trayal of the physical appearance of the
country, there being one color represent-
ing all territory below 1,000 feet, another
elevations from 1,000 to 5,000 feet,a third
showing that part of the country lving
between the 5,000 feet and the 8,000 feet
contour, and a fourth showing all terri-
tory lying above 8,000 feet.
Particular attention is called to the
legibility of the map. The ordinary map
as full of detail as this one is difficult to
read, but our cartographer in this in-
stance has succeeded in gaining in detail
without losing in legibility—a rare com-
bination in map-making. A study of
Mexico from the map-maker’s viewpoint
reveals many interesting facts. Although
that country is only one-fourth as large
as the United States, one can-travel ina
straight line as far as from National City,
California, to Sitka, Alaska, or from Chi-
cago to Nicaraugua, or from Richmond,
Virginia, to Colon, Panama, without ever
setting foot on other than Mexican soil.
Likewise the distance between National
City, California, and the mouth of the
Rio Grande is greater than that from
Baltimore, Maryland,. to Galveston,
Texas; also, it is farther from extreme
northwestern Mexico to the extreme
southeastern shore of that country than
it. is..from. St. ,Louis, Missouni, tomsan
Juan, Porto Rico.
Extra copies of this map may be had
for 50 cents each. Copies mounted on
linen at $1 each, and on rollers $1.50
postpaid in the United States.
AN AMERICAN GIBRALTAR
Notes on the Danish West Indies
HE negotiation of a treaty be-
: tween Denmark and the United
States, under which Denmark is
to sell to this country her holdings in the
West Indies, at once brings into the re-
lief of public interest a little group of
islands on the northeastern rim of the
Caribbean Sea. Not only because of
their eventful history are these islands
worthy of consideration, but because they
have figured in many diplomatic negotia-
tions, and their ultimate ownership may
have an important bearing on the inter-
national relations of the future.
That this group of about fifty islands,
only three of which are big enough to
have a name on any but hydrographic
charts and local maps, and the biggest of
which one could walk around in nine
hours, seem important to our government
may be judged by the price it proposes
to pay for them. We gave less than 2
cents an acre for Alaska, less than 3 cents
an acre for California, Nevada, Colorado,
and Utah, less than 14 cents an acre for
Florida, and under 27 cents an acre for
the Philippines. Even for the Canal Zone
we paid but $35.83 per acre. Yet at $25,-
000,000 for the group we are offering
Denmark more than $295 per acre for
her holdings.
THE ISLANDS MEASURED
Authorities have disagreed as to the
area of the islands. Even as to the three
main islands—St. Thomas, St. John, and
St. Croix—there is no agreement upon
the question of area. In order to get a
definite statement as to their size, plani-
meter measurements of them were made
on hydrographic charts in the offices of
the National Geographic Society, and
they show that. St. Thomas is 28.25
Square amiles ineareas pot. WCroix 64525
square miles, and St. John 19.97 square
miles, making a total of 132.47 square
miles for the three islands. Some au-
thorities give the area as 138 square miles
and others as 142 square miles.
From the standpoint of the United
States, St. Thomas is the most important
of the group of islands. This importance
arises from the fact that the harbor on
the south side of the island, on whose
borders the town of Charlotte Amalie is
located, is one of the finest in all tropical
America. From the days of the bucca-
neers its strategic advantage has been
realized, for when the Spanish Main was
the happy hunting ground of the gentle-
men of the Black Flag this harbor was
their headquarters. Behind its outer hills
the pirate craft found shelter from the
open sea, and were well screened from
the sight of passing ships until the mo-
ment came to pounce down upon them.
In more recent times it has played the
role of safe harbor for the thousands of
vessels bound from Europe to Panama
and surrounding territory, or vice versa.
With a free port, where repairs, ships’
stores, and coal might be had, upon which
there had been no levy of tariff duties,
the shipping world found the harbor of
Charlotte Amalie an attractive way sta-
tion on most of its Caribbean routes.
A RUINED AGRICULTURE
The result was that agriculture in St.
Thomas fell into decay, and nearly all of
the activities of the island’s population
were devoted to the interests of its har-
bor, and one of the finest coaling stations
in the tropical world was established
there. It has a length of 635 feet, with a
breadth of 160 feet, and is inclosed on
three sides by a solid stone and mason-
work breakwater, built from 2 feet be-
low ground to 7 feet above sea-level.
More than 16,000 tons of coal can be
stacked in it, and leading from the break-
water is a jetty where four vessels can
coal at a time, thus affording striking
facilities to steamers and ships of war
which require their bunkers replenished
with dispatch. Steamers drawing 17 feet
of water can be coaled day or night at the
rate of 100 tons per hour.
In addition to the coaling station there
is a floating dry-dock and a marine slip,
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where splendid repair facilities are pro-
vided.
As long as these facilities were in de-
mand St. Thomas was a fairly prosperous
island. Men and women alike found it
easy to get employment, at least for a
part of the time, at what was to them a
living wage, which was one cent per bas-
ket of coal, weighing from 85 to 100
pounds. Some carried as many as two
or three hundred baskets during the four
or five hours required to coal a ship.
When not doing this work, they found
considerable employment discharging coal
from freighters which brought it to St.
Thomas.
HARD HIT BY THE WAR
But then came the war in Europe and
all was changed. The steamships of Ger-
many, which made continual use of the
harbor of St. Thomas, were driven from
the seas, and today, where formerly all
was business and enterprise, there is only
now and then a ship that finds its way
into port, and the people of St. Thomas,
lo
Photograph by William H. Rau
NATIVE WOMEN COALING A STEAMER: ST. THOMAS, DANISH WEST INDIES
their agriculture neglected for years, find
themselves unable to gain a living, either
from the land or from the sea.
The harbor is completely sheltered (see
page 90). Outside is a roadstead partly
protected by an outlying island, which
provides anchorage for a great number
of ships. At its mouth the harbor is 900
feet wide, and one passes through this
narrow neck into a beautiful basin, three-
quarters of a mile in diameter, whose
waters are seldom disturbed, however
much the sea beyond may rage. A trade
wind blows during the whole year, with
the exception of the hurricane months—
August, September, and October—when
it becomes irregular and sometimes ceases
to blow altogether. The greatest heat is
experienced in August, September, and
October; but even then it rarely rises
above g1 degrees Fahrenheit, while at
times it falls as low as 64 degrees.
On three sides of the harbor the moun-
tains and their outlying foothills rise
sharply from the water, leaving but a
very narrow beach; so that the major por-
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94 ASUS,
tion of the town had to find room for
expansion by climbing up the side of the
mountain.
Just outside of and above the town are
the two old towers, commonly known as
Bluebeard’s Castle and Blackbeard’s Cas-
tle. Legend has it that here these daring
old buccaneers had _ their headquarters
and played their romantic roles as “the
hornets of the Spanish Main”; but his-
tory disputes legend, for it says that they
were built by the Danish Government as
a measure of defense in 1689.
By climbing the mountain to Amapolie,
within easy walking distance of Charlotte
Amalie, one can, on a-clear_day, get a
view of Porto Rico, St. Croix, and Be-
GulesuuoeN | littlevatarther » ome. seaches
heights where views, unsurpassed in all
the Caribbean region, may be had of
Porto Rico to the west and the Lesser
Antilles to the south.
The West Indian-Panama Telegraph
Company has a cable office at Charlotte
Amalie, and it was from this place that
the world got so much of its news during
the Spanish-American War, as well as
during the Martinique disaster.
WE WILL BUY A LOTTERY
The governor of the colonies lives in
Charlotte Amalie from October 1 to April
I, and in Christiansted, on the island of
St. Croix, from April I to October 1. He
is assisted by a Colonial Council, consist-
ing of four members nominated by the
Crown and eleven elected by the people.
How well the population is represented
may be judged by the statement that out
of nearly 11,000 inhabitants, 1n 1891, only
200 were voters. There is no color line
in St. Thomas, or in either of the other
islands, for that matter, and the larger
part of the population is of mixed blood.
The State Church is Lutheran, although
all others are tolerated. The Catholic and
Episcopal congregations are the largest.
The former has established a fine school
for girls. The Jews have a well-built
synagogue, while the Moravians have
long been doing an important work
among the negroes of the island. The
Dutch Reformed and Wesleyan churches
have also been engaged in like work.
If the purchase of the islands is con-
summated, the United States will acquire
NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
an undesirable institution, known as the
Danish West Indian lottery. How much
the people of the islands appreciate this
institution may be judged from the fol-
lowing statement by one of the leading
residents : “Much has been said about the
establishment of a lottery in the Danish
West Indies. ‘Those who consider it a
form of gambling, detrimental to millions
-of the people, may cavil at it, but those
who remember how these islands were
once flooded with lottery tickets from
other countries, many of them of shady
reputation, can ‘only be pleased at the es-
tablishment of our own, whose profits are
to be used for the benefit of these islands,
and which, at least, possesses the merit of
keeping our money amongst ourselves.”
AN AMERICAN GIBRALTAR
Naval officers declare that St. Thomas
possesses advantages enabling it to be
converted into a second Gibraltar. The
structure of the island, with its long cen-
tral ridge, having a general elevation of
about 1,000 feet, with some points 1,500
feet, 1s especially fitted for the emplace-
ment of fortifications commanding both
shores at the same time, making it ex-
tremely difficult for an enemy to-approach
or obtain a foothold on the island. ‘The
elevated ground in the immediate neigh-
borhood of the excellent roadsteads
makes the question of harbor defense a
comparatively easy one. While being
near other islands, St. Thomas is practi-
cally in the open ocean, and permits en-
trance and egress of a fleet without being
observed.
St. John, smallest of the three islands,
with a good harbor in Coral Bay, is only
8 miles long and 4 miles wide in its
broadest part. It has a population of less
than 1,000; but it is an island that has
done great service to America, for it 1s
from here that come the leaves of the bay
tree (Pimenta acris), from which that
well-nigh indispensable toilet article for
men, bay rum, is prepared. While most
of the bay rum is made in St. Thomas,
St. John produces most of the raw ma-
terials from which it is distilled.
This island once had many logwood
trees on it, but they have almost entirely
disappeared. Charcoal has long been in
demand and the natives use logwood in
NATIVE WASHERWOMEN OF ST.
its manufacture. All of the islands have
a striking variety of vegetation, 1,200
species having been counted on St.
Thomas, and a proportionate number on
ot. John and St. Croix. The plantain,
banana, sapodilla, bell apple, orange,
mango, and lemon thrive. Sugar-cane
flourishes when cultivated according to
modern standards.
Communication between St. Thomas
and St. John is maintained by several
sloops. One of these has a history of
more than a century in active service. It
is the Vigilant, which has been, in turn,
pirate, slave trader, and man-o’-war.
Now she is a prosaic dispatch boat, carry-
ing mail and cargo between the several
islands.
ST. CROIX THE LARGEST
st. Croix is the largest, richest, and
most populous of the three islands. It
lies 40 miles south-southeast of St.
Thomas, has an area of 84.25 square
miles, and a population of approximately
20,000. It has much rich sugar land,
Photograph by William H. Rau
CROIX
more than 16,000 acres being devoted to
that crop. It is purely agricultural, with
a fine tropical climate, excellent scenery,
good roads, and hospitable people. Here,
as in the other islands, one hears perhaps
more English spoken than any other
tongue. The Danes have never attempted
to interfere with the native preference
for English and have never made Danish
compulsory in the schools.
The island is perhaps more like “United
States” than any other territory in the
West Indian group. Before the days of
Bermuda’s ascendency as a winter resort,
and of Palm Beach, the Riviera, and
other places, many fashionable Ameri-
cans journeyed to St. Croix to escape the
cold. Also the children of the prominent
families of St. Croix came to the United
States to study, for the St. Croix planter
admired America and her straight-from-
the-shoulder way of doing things.
There are two towns in St. Croix—
Christiansted and Fredericksted. The
former is the seat of government, pos-
sessing the largest government house in
96 THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
the Lesser Antilles. Fredericksted is the
seat of business in the island, most of the
sugar being exported from there. For
scores of years the sugar planters, seeing
that the United States is the greatest
sugar-consuming community in the world,
have hoped that the island might become
American, thus providing them with a
free market. In latter years the experi-
ence of the sugar planters of Porto Rico,
who have grown very rich under the pro-
tection received by them as a result of
American tariff laws, has stimulated this
desire upon the part of those of the Dan-
ish West Indies.
The island has suffered, much as our
own South has suffered in the past, from
a lack of crop diversification; as every-
thing in the South was for so many years
cotton, so everything in St. Croix has
been sugar, and the putting of all of its
eggs in one basket has resulted seriously
on many occasions. The Danish Planta-
tion Company has sought to overcome
this evil by introducing the planting of
cotton, cocoa, coffee, and other crops.
The history of the Danish West Indies
is full of interest. Columbus found St.
Thomas inhabited by Caribs and Ara-
waks in 1493. In 1657 a colony of Dutch
settlers occupied the island; but when
they heard of New Amsterdam, now New
York, they left it to become a part of the
new colony with such a remarkable fu-
ture ahead of it. The English came to
St. Thomas next, but in 1666 it was for-
mally taken over by the Danish crown.
In 1764 the King of Denmark took the
government into his own hands and threw
the port of Charlotte Amalie open, duty
free, to all nations. In 1801 the British
took the island from the Danes, but re-
stored it after ten months. Again, in
1807, Britain took possession of St.
Thomas, but returned it in the readjust-
ments growing out of the Napoleonic
wars in 1815.
AN ISLAND OF MANY FLAGS
St. Croix was settled by Dutch and
English, but they quarreled and the Dutch
had to get out in 1650. The English in
their turn were driven out by the Span-
iards. Then the French from St. Kitts
took a hand and expelled the Spaniards.
France gave the island to the Knights of
Malta; but after a prolonged, but losing,
effort to put it on a profitable basis, the
Knights, in 1720, demolished their forts,
abandoned the island, and removed to
Santo Domingo. In 1727 the French cap-
tured eight British vessels lying there and
took possession of the island again, finally
selling it to King Christian of Denmark.
The first proposal to buy the Danish
West Indies was made by Secretary of
State Seward at Washington, in January,
1865. July 17, 1866, the United States
offered $5,000,000 for the islands. In
1867 Denmark declined to sell them for
that amount, but offered St. Thomas and
St. John for $10,000,000, or $15,000,000
for the three. Mr. Seward replied by of-
fering $7,500,000 for the group. Den-
mark made a counter offer of St. Thomas
and St. John for that price. Finally Sec-
retary Seward accepted the proposal; but
then Denmark insisted that the consent
of the peoples of the islands should be
formally given before the sale was con-
summated. This was at first objected to
by Mr. Seward; but he finally cabled our
minister to concede the question of vote,
and on the 24th of October, 1867, the
treaty was signed. On January 9, 1868,
the election was held, and out of 1,139
votes cast there were but 22 against the
cession. St. John was unanimous, cast-
ing 205 votes in favor-and none against.
Denmark ratified the treaty, but Senator
Sumner, then chairman of the Committee
on Foreign Relations, held the bill unre-
ported for more than two years. When
he did report it, it was adversely.
Again, in 1902, the United States sug-
gested to Denmark that we would like to
buy the islands, and although that coun-
try had seen one treaty fail of ratification
after it had been proposed by the United
States and ratified by Denmark, it took
up the matter again and signed the treaty
providing for the sale of the islands. The
treaty agreed to transfer them upon the
payment of the sum of $5,000,000. It
failed of ratification by Denmark by only
one vote. If the present treaty passes,
that one vote will have cost the United
States the sum of $20,000,000.
WOE KOOKS INCE 7
WASHINGTON
AUGUST, 1916
THE
NATIONAL
GEOGRAPHIC
| MAGAZINE
LITT LE-KNOWN SARDINIA
By HeLten DunsTan WRIGHT
HOSE who have taken the Medi-
terranean route have at least had
a glimpse of Sardinia from their
steamer a day out from Naples. The
island is in sight for some hours, and, if
the steamer passes sufficiently close, a
bold rocky coast can be seen on which
Roman outlook towers remain similar to
those scattered along the south shores of
Spain. The tourist seldom includes a trip
to Sardinia in his travels, as neither of
his advisers, Thomas Cook nor Baedeker,
recommends it to him. It, however, is
one of the few foreign fields that has not
been overrun and overfed by the tourist,
and in many of the villages a traveler is
still regarded as a guest and not as prey
to be pounced upon.
Some day, when tourists are tired of
taking the tours laid out for them by the
guide-books, perhaps they will break away
from the continent and set sail for Sar-
dinia, especially if they are not traveling
just to enjoy hotel comforts. One can
rent a good automobile at Cagliari, and a
week spent touring around the island
would probably leave the pleasantest of
recollections and an experience long to be
remembered.
Sardinia can be reached by an eight
hours’ night voyage from Civitavecchia,
the port of Rome, to the north end of the
island. The crossing on the mail steamer
is quite comfortable, but the knowledge
that one must get up at five the next
morning is rather appalling. The beauty
of the sunrise over the sheer cliffs and
craggy isolated rocks of Golfo degli
Aranci compensates, however, for this in-
convenience and for the cup of bitter
black coffee which comprises the break-
fast.
As soon as one lands, a refreshing
fragrance in the air is noticed—a per-
fume characteristic of Sardinia—not due,
certainly, to orange trees, as is suggested
by the name of the port, there being none
in this district, but to the many wild herbs
and shrubs all over the island.
The first couple of hours’ journey down
the island is over a rough, rolling country
made up of granite and resembling parts
of Arizona or Montana. This apparent
waste land is used for pasturing goats,
which feed on the shrubs. Here, as over
most of the island, one finds the white
flowering cystus, bright yellow ginestra,
rosemary, a mass of blue when in blos-
som, and pink heather; also arbutus with
bright yellow and red_ berries, thyme,
juniper, and other shrubs.
THE SWITZERLAND OF SARDINIA
Excepting the eucalyptus and pine
planted near the stations, there is a no-
ticeable lack of trees along the railway
routes. Among the mountains, however,
which occupy the eastern half of the
island and occur to some extent along the
western coast, there are important forests
of oak, ilex, cork, and wild olive; also
areas reforested with pine and chestnut
trees. In the mountainous areas of the
island are many fertile valleys.
GIRLS AT
Note the queer bonnets worn,
The scenery here compares favorably
in ee with that of many countries
of the world. The finest scenery is among
the Gennargentu Mountains in the Bar-
bargia Range , the highest peak being
6,233 feet above sea-level; on it there is
usually snow from November to April.
This region is called the Switzerland of
Sardinia. In the other ranges are many
picturesque peaks, as, for instance, Monte
Albo, a group of limestone mountains
with practically no vegetation on their
slopes; so that the w hite mountains and
the blue Mediterranean at their feet offer
striking contrasts.
But, to return to the railway route, at
Chilivani, one-third of the way down the
island, is the junction of the road that
goes west to Sassari, the capital of the
northern province of Sardinia. This city
is situated in the midst of a well-culti-
vated area, with groves of olive, almond,
orange, and lemon trees and orchards of
apples, peaches, cherries, and other fruits.
The railway continues to the coast of Al-
98
Photograph by C. W. Wright
DORGALTI
made of many-colored sill
ghero, an interesting old Spanish port, at
one time surrounded by a high fortified
wall. It is here that Admiral von Tirpitz
owns a large agricultural farm and has a
villa, and where, at the beginning of the
war, the Germans were suspected of hav-
ing a base for supplying submarines.
To the south, about half w ay down the
island, at Macomer, is another branch
road to Nuoro, a distance of 35 miles
and the center of a mountainous district,
the Barbargia, which was at one time said
to be the home of the famous Sardinian
brigands. These are practically “ex-
tinct” now, although occasionally one
hears of a man who has murdered a
neighbor or a member of his family for
some personal wrong and, in order to
escape the carabinieri, or national police,
flees to the mountains and lives as best
he can, sometimes stealing a lamb or a
goat from a shepherd or stopping a lonely
traveler to ask for food or a few soldi.
Unfortunately, the general impression
outside of Sardinia, even in Italy, is that
Photograph by C. W. Wright
ed
GATHERING THE WHEAT
Harvesting machinery is seldom seen in Sardinia.
The head-dresses of these two reapers
are peculiar to the island. This type of cap not only furnishes a covering for the wearer’s
head, but is an improvised lunch bag, from which he will abstract a loaf of bread at the noon _
hour. At night it serves as his pillow.
the island is more or less overrun by
bandits; this is not true, and a traveler
on the island today is even safer than he
would be in southern Italy or Sicily.
MEDIEVAL TOWERS CROWN CAGLIARI’S
HILLS
Macomer is the center of the region
where many fine horses are bred for the
army, as are also the small ponies used
in Naples. After passing this town, the
railroad descends to Oristano, on the
west coast, noted for its pottery and par-
ticularly its delicious pastry and almond
sweets. The road then runs diagonally
across a valley, from 10 to 15 miles wide,
which extends down to Cagliari, at the
southeastern end of the island.
Cagliari is the principal port of Sar-
dinia, and is often visited for a few hours
by tourists taking the weekly steamer
from Genoa and Livorno to Tunis. The
bay of Cagliari is most impressive. On
99
the right and left as you enter are hills,
with mountains in the distance, while ris-
ing up from the lowlands directly oppo-
site the entrance is the city, on a rocky
hill 400 feet high. The top of this hill
is encircled by a massive wall, built by
the Pisans in the thirteenth century. At
two of its angles rise the towers of the
Lion and the Elephant, but of the tower
of the Eagle, which completed the tri-
angle, only the base remains. In the cen-
ter of these fortifications 1s the old town
and the cathedral. On the slopes of the
hill outside the walls is built the modern
city.
Surrounding Cagliari are shallow bays,
which extend inland for many miles, and
are of interest because of the government
salt recoveries, where huge mounds of
salt, 20 to 40 feet high, can be seen on
the flats. In the spring flocks of flamin-
goes and other birds congregate on these
lowlands and add to the beauty of the
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SARDINIAN MINERS ON THEIR WAY TO WORK
Fifteen thousand natives find employment in the mines of the island. The center of
this industry is in the southwestern corner, in the vicinity of Iglesias. Lead and zinc are
the principal minerals, but silver, iron, antimony, coal, and copper are also produced. During
the Spanish occupation of the island the mines of Sardinia were abandoned, for the soldiers
of Aragon and Castile had discovered the fabulous wealth of the Montezumas and the Incas
in the New World.
103
Photograph by C. W. Wright
THE COSTUMES OF ARITZO, CENTRAL SARDINIA
Just as the girls of the various towns and provinces of Holland are to be distinguished
by the peculiar form of their quaint head-dresses, so the girls of Sardinian villages are
known by the combination of colors in their costumes. The women and children dress alike—
full skirts, usually dark red; white waists with full sleeves, and short bright red or bright
blue jackets, open in front or laced around the waist. In some districts the pattern of the
apron is the distinctive feature.
104
GREETING THE TOURIST WITH A SMILE
Politeness is one of the striking characteristics of the Sardinians.
As the traveler rides
through a village the women, children, and the old men sitting at the doorways rise and
cheerily cry out “Buon viaggro.”
scenery. The land around the lagoons is
especially fertile and well cultivated with
truck gardens and vineyards, from which
a very large quantity of wine is made.
Cagliari, the largest city on the island
and the capital of the southern province,
has about 53,000 inhabitants. ‘The entire
population of the island is estimated at
796,000, a density of population of 85
per square mile; this is a much lower
figure than in any other part of Italy.
Among the objects historically interest-
ing in Cagliari are rock-cut tombs on the
hillside below the Castello. These are
probably of the same period as the “nu-
raghi,” the famous prehistoric remains in
Sardinia, and some may have been en-
larged by the Romans into the tombs
which still exist, well preserved and with
Latin inscriptions on their walls.
STRANGE RELICS OF THE BRONZE AGE
Of the Roman period an ampitheater
remains. ‘This is on the side hill to the
west of the city and is fairly well pre-
served, with the passages under the tiers
of seats. The work of the Pisans in the
cathedral was begun in 1312 A. D. and
finished by the Aragons in 1331, but later
partly rebuilt by the Spaniards in 1660.
Among the modern buildings is a beauti-
ful city hall, recently completed; a uni-
versity with its library, which has a valu-
able collection of manuscripts, among
them a code of laws made by Eleanora of
Arborea, who was a ruler of a part of
Sardinia when it was divided into four
provinces under the Spaniards. The
southeastern corner of the old fortifica-
tions has been remodeled to form a
“piazza” above the city. Here concerts
are held at midday on Sundays during the
winter months and on summer evenings.
It is the fashionable promenade, as is also
the Via Roma, a boulevard along the edge
of the bay.
Throughout Sardinia prehistoric mon-
uments are prominent in the shape of
105
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107
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108
A YOUNG MARRIED COUPLE OF IGI,ESIAS
The Sardinians have a high regard for womankind.
grave, and decorous mountain race, suspicious of all innovations.
They are a vigorous, hospitable,
The silver buttons and
voluminous trousers of the bridegroom are typical.
truncated cones about 30 feet in diameter
at the base and built of large rough blocks
of stone about 2 feet high and of varying
lengths. These towers are the “nuraghi”
belonging to the Bronze Age and show
that the island must have been well popu-
lated in the centuries antedating the
Christian era. The entrance to the “nu-
raghi” usually faced the south and served
to light the circular room within, as did
109
also a door opening to a spiral staircase
built in the walls and leading to a cham-
ber above the ground floor. Few of the
“nuraghi” have the roofing preserved en-
tirely, so that we no longer see them in
their full height or original cone shape.
Some have two or three chambers on the
ground floor with niches in the walls,
probably for household gods.
These towers were undoubtedly forti-
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Photograph by C. W. Wright
THE COMMUNITY LAUNDRY TUB
Every day is wash day in Sardinia, and the public fountain takes the place of the village well
of the Orient and the sewing circle of the Occident as a social center
fied habitations. They are usually situ-
ated in commanding positions at the en-
trance to tablelands, near the fords of
rivers, or on almost inaccessible moun-
tain peaks, and within signaling distance
of one another. ‘Traces of at least 5,000
“nuraghi” have been found.
The ancient tombs of the inhabitants of
the ‘“nuraghi” are usually found near
them. These are called the “tombs of the
giants,” and are chambers 3% feet wide
and from 30 to 40 feet long, with a roof
of flat slabs of rock and with the sides
made of the slabs or of rough walling.
The bodies were probably arranged in a
sitting position. In front of the tombs
are circles about 40 feet in diameter, sur-
rounded by stones; these were, no doubt,
used for sacrifices and burial rites.
Another type of tombs found in Sar-
dinia is that of the small grottoes cut in
the rock like those in prehistoric ceme-
teries in Sicily. In these tombs and in
the “nuraghi” sarcophagi were discov-
ered, generally of marble; also idols con-
sisting of small bronze figures varying
from 4 to 17 inches in height, images of
dogs, bats, apes, and other animals—all
most crude in workmanship and gro-
tesque in form; medals, coins, vases, or-
naments, arms, and articles of terra-cotta
and glass. Most of these latter must an-
tedate the Roman occupation. Some of
these relics and similar objects, including
articles of jewelry dating from the Ro-
man occupation, can be seen in the Mu-
seum at Cagliari.
LANGUAGE REFLECTS MANY RACES
The Pheenician settlement is the ear-
liest of which there is any accurate knowl-
edge. Sardinia was said to be the grain-
producing center of the Carthaginians
about 500 B. C. The Romans captured
it in 238 B. C., and it was then noted for
its supply of corn. The Romans built
many towns and roads, and remains of
their monuments, temples, and sepulchers
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113
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Photograph by C. W. Wright
SHEPHERDS OF POVERTY-STRICKEN SARDINIA
One glimpse at this trio would be enough to send a shudder down the spine of a stranger
who has feasted upon the out-of-date tales of bandit-ridden Sardinia, but these three cronies
are harmless natives, who, in spite of their bitter fight against heavy taxes and the relatively
high cost of living, never annoy the tourists by begging, as do so many of the people of
southern Italy.
are still preserved. The Byzantines cap-
tured Sardinia from the Romans and held
it until the tenth century, when the Sara-
cens took possession, and were in turn
drivenwout iby the Pisans. There: are
traces of the influence of Pisa in the fine
Romanesque churches which are still well
Geese In some churches the late
Gothic architectural style shows Spanish
influence, which came after the surrender
of the Pisans to Genoa, and then to James
Il of Aragon. In 1708 Cagliari surren-
dered to the English, but in the War of
Spanish Guecession the island came under
the rule of Austria. Finally, after more
exchange, 1t was given to the Duke of
Savoy, who acquired with it the title of
King of Sardinia.
It is not strange that the language of
the people should contain elements of the
languages of all the races which have oc-
cupied the island. The dialects, of which
there are five or six, are a mixture of
Latin, Spanish, and Italian, with a little
Pheenician and traces of other ancient
tongues. In Alghero, on the west coast,
pure Catalan is spoken; in some villages
almost pure Latin; and in Carloforte, on
the southwestern coast, the Genoese dia-
lect prevails. Italian, however, is now
taught in the schools to the children, while
the men acquire it during their compul-
sory military service.
To get an insight into the life of the
inhabitants of this isolated island, one
should visit its villages. It is in the entire
eastern half, with its mountainous valleys
and villages, where the real Sards now
live. Here one will find them good look-
ing and in good health, generous, hos-
pitable, honorable, and quite poor. Po-
liteness is carried almost to an extreme.
Often as one rides through a small vil-
lage the women, children, and old men
ears at the doorsteps rise and wish you
“buon viaggio’; or if it happens to be
115
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SULING]
116
LITTLE-KNOWN SARDINIA
noon, some may wish you a “buon appe-
tito.” Even the young boys are taught to
take their hats off when strangers pass
by; and if one is in an automobile and
happens to stop to get out his kodak, a
crowd of youngsters seem to spring up
around the car, all anxious to be in the
picture. To refuse a cup of coffee or a
liqueur when visiting the house of an in-
habitant of a village is an act of great dis-
courtesy, and even the poorest have some
beverage to offer.
NATIVES EXCESSIVELY POLITE
Generally speaking, the peasants seem
to be somewhat downtrodden and do not
realize their just rights. We thought the
attitude of the man in the following inci-
dent most unusual: When motoring along
one of the straight roads down through
the valley to Cagliari, we saw a man
ahead on horseback. He jumped off ina
great hurry and, holding the horse by the
end of the reins, got down into the deep
ditch at the side of the road. As the car
came up he was so interested in probably
the first automobile he had ever seen that
he forgot his horse, which, unexpectedly,
‘gave a jump down into the ditch almost
on top of the man, upsetting him and his
saddle-bags into the mud. When we
stopped to examine the harm done and to
help him up he was very gratified and
most profuse in his apologies for having
pe us, Saying: “Excuse me, excuse
; it was all my fault.”
he music of the Sards is character-
istic ; not all quick and vivacious like that
of the Sicilians or other southern Ital-
ians, but monotonous and slow, resem-
bling very much the music of northern
Africa. Often a long song will be sung
to one phrase of a melody, like a sorrow-
ful chant. The accordion is a favorite
instrument, and in the villages on Sun-
days or other festas most of the inhabit-
ants congregate in the principal piazza
and dance to its music. ‘The men and
women form in a circle and dance slowly
forward and backward, some of the
younger men adding more complicated
steps, occasionally breaking away from
the circle and dancing with their part-
ners ; but the whole effect is dignified and
staid.
117
Fach “‘paese” or village has its annual
festival to celebrate the birthday of its
own particular saint or some other church
feast. ‘The most renowned of these is the
“festa” of “Saint’ Efisio,” the national
feast of the island. The ceremony is in
the form of a procession from Cagliari to
Pula, a village 9 miles away, with. the re-
turn to Cagliari. The saint was an offi-
cial in the army of Diocletian, and for his
conversion to Christianity was beheaded
at Pula. On midday of May 1 the pro-
cession leaves and returns on the evening
of May 4. : It is composed of a cavalcade
of horsemen all in the costume of the
ancient Sardinian militia, escorting the
image of the saint, which is preceded by
musicians playing the “launeddas,” an in-
strument made of three or four reeds of
different lengths and like the pipe of
ancient times.
In the region about Iglesias where the
mines are, the workmen celebrate an-
nually the festa of Santa Barbara, -“‘the
god of fire,’ which usually results in
much wine drinking, followed by a few
days’ absence from work, so as to re-
cuperate.
PICTURESQUE COSTUMES OF SARDS
The Sards’ costumes are one of their
greatest attractions. They are of rich,
harmonious, though brilliant, colors, each
village having its own distinctive type,
which does not change from year to year;
so the men and women are thus known
by the clothes they wear. Unfortunately
the general European type of dress is
being adopted by the younger generation,
and it is now difficult to find many towns
in which the native dress is used by all
the inhabitants.
There are a few such villages up in the
mountains near Nuoro, where the rail-
road has not penetrated, and here it is
most interesting to see the women and
little girls all dressed alike. The skirts
are usually very full, accordion plaited in
some villages,with a distinctive trimming ;
white waists with full sleeves, and over
these short jackets, open in front or laced
around the waist. All in a town have the
same combination of color, perhaps a
dark red skirt and the jacket in bright red
and bright blue, a diagonal stripe of each
NURAGHE, TO THE NORTH OF MACOMER, SARDINIA
Numerous prehistoric monuments like this relic of the Bronze Age dot Sardinia. The
arrangements of the interior of these structures are such as to indicate that they were used
as fortified habitations and not as tombs or temples. The diameters of these truncated cones
range from 30 to 100 feet at the base, and they are from 30 to 60 feet high. The entrances,
about 6 feet high and 2 feet wide, almost invariably face south.
Se
Photograph by C. W. Wright
“GIOCARE ALLA MORRA!”
The game of “morra” holds for the man of Italian blood the same allurements that poker
>
holds for some Americans, and that “craps” has for the southern darky.
So excited do the
morra players become over the hazards of this, their national betting pastime, that tragedies
not infrequently result; hence the police frown upon the practice, but always with a certain
fond indulgence.
it sounds.
color meeting in the back, and with tiny
bonnets of the two bright colors. In
some the most distinctive characteristic
is the covering of the head—a_bright-
colored handkerchief or a white veil
folded back or held in place by a silver
119
It is played entirely with the fingers and consists of trying to guess how
many fingers your opponent will hold out at the instant he acts.
It is more difficult than
chain under the chin; in other towns the
apron is characteristic in its color and
shape.
The most elaborate dresses are, of
course, kept for festas, and these have
hand embroidery and are often of very
120
heavy silks and brocades, sometimes with
exquisite lace scarfs or veils folded back
on the head. The jewelry is most elab-
orate, too—large gold buttons worn at
the throat ; large ear-rings and pendants.
The costumes and jewelry are almost al-
ways heirlooms in the families.
The men’s costumes usually consist of
woolen leggings, white, full trousers,
long or short, a full ruffle of black cloth
worn around the waist; and this, too,
differs in length. Some of the jackets
are short and some long, but all have sil-
ver buttons down the front. The shep-
herd wears a sheepskin, on which the
wool has been left, over his shoulders
throughout the year, even in midsummer,
and claims that it keeps away the ma-
laria. In some districts the men wear a
pointed cap resembling a Phrygian bon-
net, long and narrow lke a stocking,
reaching almost to the waist; the point is
either worn down over the shoulders or
folded on the top of the head and may be
used as a pillow at night. It is apt to
contain anything from bread to snuff,
which is indispensable to the older Sard.
A queer custom of some of the younger
men is to let the hair on the top of their
heads grow often to 15 inches in length,
and then roll it up into a puff, which
looks like a pompadour, across the fore-
head.
Among the distinctive products of Sar-
dinia is cheese made of goat’s milk and
used very generally by Italians. The
wines are noted for their strength. An
interesting export is cork, which is taken
from the trees every five years, leaving
the bare, red trunks noticeable all over the
island. Many sheep, goats, pigs, cattle,
and horses are raised and sold on the
continent.
IMPORTANT MINING OPERATIONS
The mining industry is probably the
most important, the principal metals pro-
duced being lead and zinc. Iglesias, in
the southwestern corner, is the center
of mining activity. The mines employ
about 15,000 workmen, and the output is
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
approximately 60,000 tons of lead con-
centrates and 120,000 tons of zinc con-
centrates annually. Some silver, iron,
antimony, copper, and coal are also pro-
duced.
The tunny fisheries off the island of
San Pietro are noteworthy. In the spring
schools of these fish pass through the
Mediterranean, and enormous numbers
are caught in nets and brought to the
large canneries at Carloforte.
There is very good hunting on the
island. The moufflon, a cross between a
wild sheep and a deer, is found in the
mountains and is native only to Sardinia;
there are also some fallow deer and red
deer. By far the most numerous of the
big game is the wild boar. Hare, par-
tridges, woodcock, snipe, quail, and wild
duck are all found in large quantities.
AN ISLAND OF WILD FLOWERS
The wild flowers are most beautiful,
and there is practically no month in which
a great variety is not found. Among
these are orchids, narcissus, lilies, gladi-
olas, irises, cyclamen, fox-gloves, pop-
pies, and sweet peas. In the summer
months, usually from May until Septem-
ber, there is no rainfall. During the win-
ter the rains are heavy and often accom-
panied by strong winds. In the northern
part of the island a good deal of snow
falls, and often the ground remains coy-
ered for a month at a time; but in the
southern part of the island there is_al-
most never any snow and seldom any
frost. In the gardens there roses, helio-
trope, calla lilies, nasturtiums, ivy, gera-
niums, marguerites, and many other flow-
ers bloom all winter. It is during the
summer that these cease blossoming.
May, June, and October are the months
most pleasant for travel in Sardinia. The
country is at its best then; the cultivated
fields green, the wild flowers most pro-
fuse, the climate least variable, and the
roads, which are covered with “ghiata,”
or broken rock, from December to Feb-
ruary, are then in perfect condition. -
THE AWAKENING OF ARGENTINA AND CHILE
Progress in the Lands That Lie Below Capricorn
By Baritey WiItLIs
KE NORTH AMERICANS,
who live in a vast continent
that les nearly all in the tem-
perate and cooler zones, scarcely realize
that South America is four-fifths tropical.
Fields of wheat and oats are familiar to
us, but in South America are scarcely
seen outside of Argentina and Chile, ex-
cept in high, cool valleys. South America
might be called a banana country.
Bananas grow from Paraguay to Mex-
ico; wheat and oats flourish only in the
tapering tip of the southern continent ;
and this gives to Argentina and Chile a
peculiar interest among South American
countries as the homes of vigorous, ener-
getic peoples competent to rule them-
selves. To Argentina and Chile we may
add Uruguay and the highlands of south-
eastern Brazil, and also the limited areas
of the tropical Andes, whose altitude
gives them cool climates. The rest of the
continent, the vast interior, is the land of
the siesta—the land to be developed and
administered by peoples of the temperate
zones.
The great task and obligation of Ar-
gentina, southern Brazil, and Chile, the
A, B, C powers, is to guide the develop-
ment of the tropical Americas, through
the exercise of wise statesmanship, to-
ward stability, peace, and prosperity.
Rio de Janeiro, on the Atlantic coast,
and Antofagasta, on the Pacific, mark
the southern limit of the tropics, and
thence southward the southern continent
narrows rapidly to the point of Cape
Horn. The equivalent distance in North
America is from Florida to Labrador, or
from oranges to reindeer moss. Florida
and Rio are both renowned for their
oranges, and Cape Horn shares with Lab-
rador a most inhospitable reputation ; but
it is more like Scotland than Labrador.
THE SCOTLAND OF SOUTH AMERICA
The southernmost land, tapering south-
ward between the oceans, is nowhere so
cold as the broad expanse of North
America is in similar latitude, and ‘Tierra
del Fuego, a region of bogs, fogs, and
snow squalls, is a congenial home for
Scotchmen and long-wooled sheep.
Buenos Aires, the focal point of life
and intercourse south of Rio, lies half
way between Rio and Cape Horn, in the
latitude corresponding to Charleston.
Palms grow there in the public gardens,
and yet, the houses being unheated, a
northerner may greatly enjoy on a damp,
chill winter day the soft coal fire which he
will find where Englishmen congregate.
Neither very cold nor very hot, the
seasons are similar to those of our coast
from Norfolk to Charleston ; but they are
reversed. As the sun circles northward
past the Equator their summer ends, while
our winter half year begins. ‘There is
always summer, north or south; always
winter, too. When we are preparing to
leave the cities Argentine society is gath-
ered from the country estates for pleasure
and politics in the greater metropolis,
which alternates with Paris and vies with
the French capital in seasons of gaiety.
THE METROPOLIS OF THE SOUTHERN
HEMISPHERE
Buenos Aires is to Argentina what
Paris is to France—the center of the na-
tional industries, thought, and culture.
Commerce, journalism, politics, the
drama and music, literature, art, and so-
cial life are intensely focused there. The
brilliant activity of the greatest city of
the Southern Hemisphere (the fourth city
of the Americas, after New York, Chi-
cago, and Philadelphia) draws the Ar-
gentines to it as a flame attracts moths,
and one-fifth of the population of the
country struggles there in feverish com-
petition for pleasure and gain.
No traveler to the southern countries
but stops as long as he may in Buenos
Aires to enjoy or to study the most cos-
mopolitan, yet most latinized, of the
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AN ITALIAN SETTLER 'AND HIS‘ FAMILY: MENDOZA, ARGENTINA
Mendoza is the southern California. of Argentina.
Irrigation has long been successfully
applied to its vineyards, which produce more wine than the combined vineyards of the entire
United States of North America.
than 2,000 feet.
Italians are, for the most part, employed in the cultivation
The whole of the province lies at an altitude of more
of the grapes,
the whole family accompanying husband and father to the field and assisting in tending the
vines.
Spanish-American cities. We shall have
occasion to return to the metropolis that
is at once the heart and the brain of the
country, but first let us look at the land
itself, of which the port is the gateway.
The location of Buenos Aires combines
the advantages of those of New York
and of New Orleans in all that relates to
oversea and to inland commerce. ‘Trans-
oceanic routes converge to the Rio de la
Plata as they do to the Hudson; the navi-
gable waterways of the Parana-Paraguay
reach as far into the interior as the Mis-
sissippi-Missouri and offer deeper chan-
nels to navigation. As far as Argentine
jurisdiction extends, the Uruguay, Pa-
rana, and Paraguay rivers have been
Or
The babies are put to sleep in improvised tents while their elders work.
dredged and buoyed and already are pre-
pared to serve as arteries of commerce,
such as the Mississippi is yet to become.
North of the Rio de la Plata and be-
tween the Atlantic and the Parana-Para-
guay basin stretches the most beautiful
and healthful region of semi-tropical
South America. Here are the coffee
plantations of Sao Paulo, Brazil, the most
productive of the world; here the Ger-
man settlements of Santa Caterina and
Rio Grande do Sul constitute the isolated
Teutonic colonies; here Uruguay and
Paraguay form buffer States between the
great rivals, their neighbors, and here are
included the rich Argentine Common-
wealths of Entre Rios and Corrientes.
SOMHNOVA SIH JO AWOS GNV WAIWUVA OG-OL-TTIM V
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AWAKENING OF ARGENTINA AND CHILE
A LAND OF VAST POSSIBILITIES
Equivalent in area to the region which
stretches northwest from the Alleghanies
to the Mississippi and the Great Lakes,
equal to the States of Alabama, Missis-
sippi, Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, Indi-
ana, and Illinois in extent, beautiful in
upland landscape of verdant hills and
valleys, this territory invites a dense
population whose prosperity would be
assured under a good government.
But divided as it is by arbitrary politi-
cal boundaries, misgoverned with vari-
ous degrees of misgovernment, it lies
inert. The failure of individual and gov-
ernmental initiative, the isolation of the
frontier, where weak settlements face the
forest, the lack of roads and railroads
leave the interior still a part of the wil-
derness.
Santos in the north and Montevideo in
the south are the outlets of this rich coun-
try. Both are important shipping ports,
from which railways radiate westward
and northwestward. Eventually they will
be connected with one another and with
Asuncion, on the Paraguay, by lines that
will develop and will exploit its resources.
Montevideo holds a position naturally
superior to that of Buenos Aires, and
were it the capital of an equally great re-
public might rival the latter in wealth and
population ; but, limited as Uruguay is by
the Argentine and Brazilian possessions
to the proportions of a petty State, it con-
stitutes the hinterland of a secondary
city, which Montevideo will long and per-
haps always continue to be.
The Rio de la Plata separates two
widely different districts—the wooded
uplands of Uruguay and the treeless
pampas of Argentina. The former is the
southern extension of the great region of
Brazil, and although now largely brought
1ato cultivation, it is a region where trees
flourish as a part of the indigenous flora.
The pampas, on the other hand, have al-
ways been treeless until plantations of
eucalyptus or orchards of fruit trees were
laid out upon the estates of wealthy Ar-
gentines.
PAMPAS COMPARED WITH PRAIRIES
The pampas are a vast grassy plain.
Is there anything more to be said? As
“is-a bally billiard table?”
127
an Englishman put it, “What can you say
about a bally billiard table except that it
Yet the plain
of the pampas is not like the great west-
ern plains of the United States. The
latter are broken by gullies, furrowed by
streams, traversed by river valleys. The
pampas are not.
Among all landscapes of the world
there is none more meadow-like than the
flat pampa, with the cattle grazing in the
rich grass; but the meadow grass hides
no meandering brook. Hour after hour
and day after day you may ride without
crossing a stream. You will, however,
encounter many shallow pools and lake-
lets.
The pampa looks so flat, so featureless!
But is it? Watch a horseman galloping
away toward the horizon, toward which
he rises silhouetted against the sky. Soon
he sinks and drops out of sight, having
apparently ridden over the edge of the
world; but an hour later he may rise
again, topping a more distant swell of the
vast grassy ocean surface. North, east,
south, or west it is the same—a billowy
plain, hollowed and molded by the wind,
the free-flowing air, which in place of
running water has sculptured the im-
mense expanse of fine brown earth.
THE AMERICAN WINDMILL’S GREAT
SERVICE
It is a paradise for cattle in the average
year, when the rain fills the lakelets and
the pasture, whether freshly green or
cured to natural hay, affords abundant
feed. Occasionally a dry season inter-
venes ; the water pools dry up; the plain
becomes a waterless desert. Formerly in
such years disaster overcame the herd-
man and his herds. Lingering by the
shrinking pools, hundreds of thousands
of cattle and sheep suffered from thirst
and famine till they fell and mummified
in the dust. It is somewhat different
now.
The seasons still vary inexorably, and
from time to time comes one of drought
and loss; but it has lost its gravest men-
ace. Scattered over the pampa, wherever
they may be wanted, are windmills, and
beside each mill is a tank and drinking
trough. The wind, which so sculptured
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Photograph by Nevin O. Winter
AN ENGLISH
SEPARATOR
The people of Argentina annually raise for export forty dollars’ worth of foodstuffs
per capita.
The highest prices ever paid for breeding stock has been paid by the Argentines,
with the result that they have the finest draft horses, the best of beef cattle, and the highest
type of sheep.
the hollows of the plain that a very large
proportion of the rainfall sinks into it,
now pumps the supply back to the herds,
which otherwise might perish stamping
the dust just above the subterranean
waters.
Man meets Nature and conquers her,
the more effectually the more intelli-
gently he goes about it. Common sense
impels the ranchero to erect windmills, or
in seasons of drought to drive his cattle
to districts of more abundant rainfall.
The Argentine is also raising fodder
crops, and as the cattle industry becomes
organized on the sound economic basis of
the greatest good for the greatest num-
ber, instead of the system of “\Sauve qui
peut,’ the herds of the pampa will no
longer know the famines that in earlier
times depopulated the plain.
The soil and the climate of the pampas
give the Argentine Republic its high rank
among the wheat and corn growing coun-
tries of the world. The soil is an ancient
alluvium, the fine sediment carried by old
rivers far out from the mountains, like
the deposit now being made by the Para-
Argentina is becoming one of the world’s great granaries.
guay and its tributaries, an island delta
far in the interior of the continent. The
sediment was very fine, and mingled with
it is a large proportion of fine volcanic
dust, blown from the volcanoes of the
Andes.
It covers about 200,000 square miles in
the provinces of Buenos Aires, Santa Fe,
Cordova, and San Luis. Like the re-
nowned loess soils of China, it is exceed-
ingly fertile and, being very porous, ab-
sorbs the rain waters, which rise again
by evaporation and supply the surface
soil constantly with plant food.
WHEAT REGULATED PROSPERITY
In former days it mattered nothing to
the world at large and comparatively little
to the Argentine himself whether the sea-
son was a favorable one for wheat or not:
but now, when millions beyond her con-
fines look to Argentina for bread and
when Argentine prosperity is regulated
by the wheat she sells, it matters much.
The time will come, probably, when
plentiful rains or drought will matter less
than now; for at present agriculture in
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THE BAY AND CITY: VALPARAISO, CHILE
The city of Valparaiso, as well as almost the whole of Chile, have been severely tried by
earthquake, and the fact that the nation has risen from each such disaster with no apparent
interruption to its growth is nothing short of remarkable.
The city was almost wholly
destroyed on August 16, 1906, by an earthquake and the terrible fires which attended it,
sustaining a $100,000,000 property loss.
Yet within a single decade few, if any, traces of the
disaster may be seen, and the city is larger and more prosperous than ever.
Argentina is in that elementary state
when it is most exposed to injury by the
vicissitudes of climate. Great fields are
cultivated by few hands. ‘The poorly
prepared soil, the shallow plowing, the
neglect of cultivation, all invite losses in
any but a favorable year.
In the east the rainfall is usually abun-
dant or excessive. There are areas of
Buenos Aires province which are inun-
dated by heavy rains, and great drainage
works have been undertaken by the gov-
ernment at the instance of the land-
owners. From east to west the rainfall
diminishes till it becomes insufficient for
agriculture in the average year, and farm-
ing can prosper only where irrigation is
practicable.
SOILS SUITED TO EVERY CROP
TTA .
Thus the pampas, of which we may
think as a monotonous region, exhibit
131
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AWAKENING OF ARGENTINA AND CHILE ay
great diversity of aspect. Proportions of
them may be flooded while other distant
regions of the same plain are drying up.
Portions are suited to the growing of
wheat, others to cattle raising, and still
others in the warmer, rainy zone about
Rosario are adapted best to the raising of
Indian corn.
The Great Southern Railway of Buenos
Aires compiles for its own information
charts which show the quantities of
wheat, oats, linseed, cattle, sheep, and
alfalfa received at each of its stations
year by year. Thus the management may
know not only what income any station
yields, but also what is the crop that pro-
duces the particular return. It is most
interesting to observe the grouping of
products—wheat in this district, oats in
another, cattle elsewhere—each in its pre-
ferred localities predominating over
minor quantities of the other products
and demonstrating the existence of con-
trolling factors which give great eco-
nomic diversity to the apparent natural
monotony of the pampas.
In part due to natural conditions, in
part dependent upon artificial ones, such
as the lack of roads, these factors are
changing from year to year; and they are
destined to change constantly in the di-
rection of greater security and product-
iveness in agricultural pursuits as the
country passes from the actual primitive
conditions of development to those of a
more advanced community.
THE HUB OF THE ARGENTINE WHEEL OF
FORTUNE
To gain an idea of the extent of the
fertile pampa region, one needs but look
at a railway map of Argentina. Buenos
Aires and Rosario are the two ports of
shipment of its products, the centers
from which traffic radiates to all sections
of the country. English and other capi-
tal has been expended to the amount of
200,000,000 pounds sterling in building
railways to develop the rich lands, but in
the more arid and less profitable country
the lines have been extended only as
trunk lines, aimed to reach some distant
point. The pampas are the hub of the
Argentine wheel of fortune, of which
Buenos Aires, the Argentine El Dorado,
is the center.
ishes.
Oo
The area of the pampas, about 200,000
square miles, is one-sixth of the country.
In the larger part which lies beyond the
pampas, the other five-sixths, there is a
great extent of lands destined by the gen-
eral scarcity of water to pastoral pur-
suits; there are some real desert areas;
and there are also districts of great nat-
ural resources, which are either actual
or potential contributors to the natural
wealth.
THE ROME OF THE ANTIPODES
In the Argentine all travel, all enter-
prise, all development, stars from Buenos
Aires. Let us place ourselves in that
Rome of the Southern Hemisphere, from
which all roads lead, and make rapid ex-
cursions to the more interesting of the
outlying provinces of her commercial
dominion.
An excursion to the northward may
pass by rail through the provinces or
States of Entre Rios and Corrientes to
the Territory of Missiones, which was
secured by Argentina through the arbi-
tration of her boundary with Brazil by
President Cleveland. Entre Rios and
Corrientes are lands traversed by ancient
watercourses of the Parana, which form
wide expanses of swamp among the mod-
erately high ridges and plateaus.
Missiones, an extension of the western
table-land of Brazil, is a paradise, like
upland Florida, scarcely ever touched by
frost. This is the route to Paraguay and
the old city of Asuncion, from which the
traveler will prefer to return by one of
the steamers plying down the river of
Buenos Aires or Montevideo; or, if it be
one of the Brazilian Lloyd line, even
making the voyage to Rio.
The line of the Central Cérdova Rail-
way, after leaving the Parana and Ro-
sario, runs through Cordova, the con-
servative seat of Spanish aristocracy and
learning, and on through the desert of
Santiago de Estero to Tucuman, the
oasis where the sugar monopoly flour-
Tucuman lies in a local area of
greater rainfall at the foot of the superb
Aconquija Range, a spur of the Andes
which towers more than 10,000 feet above
the city.
Where the streams from the moun-
tains spread upon the tropical plain, there
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AWAKENING OF ARGENTINA AND CHILE
are extensive plantations and refineries ;
and on the mountain slopes are the villas
of the wealthy planters, who may be
whirled in a few moments in their autos
over well-built roads to temperate or even
to alpine climes. Extending still farther
northwest, the railway reaches Quiaca,
on the Argentine boundary, where it is
eventually to be connected with the Bo-
livian system that centers in La Paz.
Those who do not mind two or three
days’ staging may even now go on via
La Pas to Antofagasta or Mollendo, on
the Pacific coast.
Cordova, the old university town, was
linked in the old colonial days by such
lines of commercial intercourse as ex-
isted and by ties of interest rather with
Tucuman, San Juan, and Mendoza, the
centers of population in the Andes, than
with the isolated settlement of Buenos
Aires on the coast; and in sympathy at
least the relation still holds. Provincial
conservatism is characteristic of the in-
terior cities. In Mendoza, however,
wealth has done more to modify the old
customs than in Cordova.
THE SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA OF SOUTH
AMERICA
Mendoza is the southern California of
Argentina. Irrigation has long been suc-
cessfully appled to her vineyards and
she has grown rich on their products.
She lies also on the historic route across
the Andes by which San Martin entered
Chile with the army that liberated that
country from the Spanish dominion. ‘The
railway now ascends by the valley of the
Mendoza River over the barren wastes
of the high Andes, which are here cursed
by both drought and cold; and, passing
through the summit at 10,600 feet, de-
scends rapidly to the valley of the Acon-
cagua River and the fertile plains of cen-
tral Chile.
In our excursions thus far we have
traveled among the centers of the old
Spanish settlements founded 300 years
ago. Now let us turn to the south and
southwest, to the country where the In-
dians were dominant till within 30 years,
where explorers now living have been
held captive by them, or have been able
to traverse the plateaus and mountains
135
only as companions of the roving Indian
bands.
Bahia Blanca is today a city of 70,000
inhabitants, with extensive wharves, huge
wheat elevators, and various lines of rail-
Ways converging to it. Yet as late as
1879 it was an outpost which was repeat-
edly isolated from Buenos Aires by pow-
erful Indian raids. Now the intervening
pampa is all converted to private property
and divided by wire fences.
A POOR FROSPECT BECOMES A RICH INVEST-
MENT
When, in 1902, war over the question
of the boundary in the Andes seemed im-
minent between Argentina and Chile, it
was felt that easy communication must
be established between Buenos Aires and
western Patagonia, where the disputed
boundary lay, and the government gave
the Great Southern Railway of Buenos
Aires a very liberal concession to build a
branch from Bahia Blanca westward up
the valley of the Rio Negro as a strategic
element of defense.
The company undertook it unwillingly,
for the country was considered a desert ;
but the road has paid interest on its cost
almost from the first year after its con-
struction, and, being now extended be-
yond the valley of the Rio Negro to a
low pass in the Andes, it will ultimately
form a transcontinental route which will
connect Bahia Blanca with Concepcion.
In the valley of the Rio Negro is a re-
gion which, through the utilization of the
waters of that great river for irrigation,
is being converted into one of the garden
spots of the Republic. The climate, which
in temperature resembles that of our
south Atlantic coast, the fertile soil, and
the abundance of water, which will even-
tually be brought under control, so as to
minimize the effects of floods and the
scarcity of the dry seasons, all combine
to give this district a rich promise. At
present it is still in the initial stages of de-
velopment, lacking adequate organization
of its industries and society and needing
competitive development of means of
communication with its markets.
In this excursion to the valley of the
Rio Negro we reach the southern limit
of the connected Argentine railway sys-
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tem. We are on the northern borders of
Patagonia, the synonym for remoteness
and isolation. Yet within its confines are
to be found immense sheep ranches, man-
aged not only by Argentines, but the
largest and best of them by Scotchmen
and Australians, who direct the invest-
ment of English capital. National rail-
ways have been extended at government
cost from several ports of the Atlantic
coast into the interior, and when the wave
of prosperity once more returns to Ar-
gentina, as following the present depres-
sion it soon will, Patagonia will invite
still larger investments of capital and take
rank among the growing territories of
the Republic.
A HIDDEN SWITZERLAND
One is constantly surprised at the mag-
nitude of the far southern country. Hid-
den in the Andes of Patagonia and occu-
pying but a small part of their great
length is a country as large as Switzer-
land—a region of beautiful lakes, forests,
and snow-covered peaks,
We have now spoken of southern Bra-
zil and of Argentina. There remains of
the temperate lands of South America
only Chile, that longest and narrowest of
all the countries of the world. Having a
greater extent from north to south even
than Argentina, it stretches 2,700 miles,
from Cape Horn to the deserts of Ata-
cama, within the tropics. Its width is
rarely more than 125 miles from the
ocean to the Andean crest. If we were
to place it upon a similar stretch of coast
in North America, it would cover Lower
California, California, Oregon, Washing-
ton, and British Columbia to the St. Elias
district of Alaska.
Chile is divided into three sections by
the natural features of the Pacific slope
of the Andes. The northern is that of
the semi-arid and desert region, which
reaches from Peru southward to Valpa-
raiso. It is an utter desert in the north
and becomes less inhospitable toward the
south. It is traversed from the Andes to
the coast by short, deep valleys, sepa-
rated by high spurs of the mountains, and
communication from north to south has
always been exceedingly difficult. Nev-
137
ertheless, the Chilean engineers have
found a route by which to extend the
State railway which shall link Santiago
with the territories conquered from Peru.
THE HEART OF CHILE
The central section extends through 9
degrees of latitude for a distance of about
600 miles from Valparaiso to the island
of Chiloé, south of Puerto Montt. This
is the heart of Chile, the only portion of
the country which can support a suff-
cient population to constitute a nation.
The area is not large, about 100,000
square miles, and much of it is occupied
by mountain ranges of great height and
ruggedness.
But between the Andes and the coast
range there extends in this section a val-
ley similar to that of California, which is
the seat of the Chilean people. Many
rivers rising in the Andes descend to it
and meander more or less directly west-
ward through the coast range of the Pa-
cific; but the intervening divides are no-
where of such altitude as to interrupt the
continuity of the great valley that extends
from north to south. Santiago is situ-
ated at its northern end, and flourishing
cities are located at each favorable point
on the railway that connects the capital
with Puerto Montt.
The climate as we go from north to
south becomes ever more humid, and we
pass from the irrigated lands about San-
tiago to the dense forest swamps of the
southern portion of the district. While
much of the land has been cleared or is
ine Ee process MOL -cleariionsim ya estate
which reminds one of our own Pacific
coast 30 years ago, other areas remain
impenetrable forests, still unexplored
after nearly 400 years of occupation of
the country.
The third section of Chile, extending
southward from Puerto Montt through
14 degrees of latitude to Cape Horn, is
like our southern Alaskan coast—a
stretch of islands and peninsulas broken
by intricate channels and profound fiords
that penetrate far into the land. Tumul-
tuous rivers descend from the Andes and
debouch into the fiords in swampy deltas
which are covered with dense forests.
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AWAKENING OF ARGENTINA AND CHILE
The large island of Chiloé, which was
conquered by Valdivia before the middle
of the sixteenth century, is well popu-
lated and occupies a position with refer-
ence to the more frequented northern
coast similar to that which Vancouver
Island holds to San Francisco. Farther
south the population becomes very scanty,
glaciers descended from the Andean
heights, and the savage but majestic
scenery of Smythe Channel and the
Straits of Magellan suggest that of the
inland passage and Lynn Canal of the
Alaskan coast.
SANTIAGO AND BUENOS AIRES
Santiago is the chief city of Chile, but
not in the same degree as Buenos Aires
is of the Argentine Republic. Buenos
Aires has become almost the Republic it-
self, in the sense that Paris is France;
but Santiago is but the capital of the
country, which has other cities that may
compare with it in local importance.
Santiago contrasts with Buenos Aires as
the conservative capital of a small coun-
try with the metropolis of the continent.
You feel in the Chilean capital the con-
servative character of the people; in
Buenos Aires the liberal spirit of the
world city.
The people who are developing the
lands of South America, and in that de-
velopment are themselves evolving spe-
cial characters and new racial types, are
those whom we loosely call Latin-Amer-
icans. Their language is of the family
of the Latin tongues, and that fact fixes
in the public mind the relationship of the
people among European nations ; but that
is a very superficial estimate. If we call
them Spanish-Americans and we consider
what the Spaniards’ origin is, we shall
come nearer knowing our neighbors.
THE SPANIARD AN IRISHMAN FIRST
The ancient Spaniard was a Celt be-
fore he was conquered by Rome, and as
a Celt he is represented today by the still
distinct group of the Basques. The
greater part of the Celtic tribes were less
resistant. Five hundred years of Roman
government and two hundred of domina-
tion by the Visigoths, followed by eight
centuries of Moorish influence, con-
159
sciously and unconsciously wrought
changes in the people, evolving the spe-
cial Spanish type.
All of the races which entered into that
type were more or less numerous and in-
fluential in the development of the other
people of Europe, except one. ‘The
Moors constitute an element of the Span-
ish blood which produced traits that are
peculiar to the Spaniard among FEuro-
pean peoples. In studying America we
should not forget that the Moors main-
tained their civilization in Spain up to
the date of the discovery of America and
influenced the character of the Spanish
conquerors. ‘They represented that Ara-
bic civilization which maintained learning
and science during the dark ages of Eu-
rope, and their daring courage, their im-
petuosity, and their individualistic spirit
have been transmitted to their remotest
descendants.
A MANY SIDED DESCENT
A further fact relating to the origin of
the Spanish- Americans, and one fre-
quently cited by their own writers, is the
mixing of the invaders and the aborigines
in the colonial populations. Their writers
tell us that the Indians who died under |
the tyranny of the Spanish masters be-
queathed to those masters half-breed sons
and daughters to perpetuate the race.
The mestizo, or half-breed, became a uni-
versal and numerous element ; the criollo,
or American-born child of European par-
ents, the local and less common factor in
the colonial population.
Thus there sprang into existence the
Spanish-American race, child of the Celt,
the Roman, the Goth, the Moor, and the
American Indian. His Spanish fathers
were themselves variously characterized:
the austere Basque, the arrogant Castil-
ian, the impetuous Estremaduran, the
facile and graceful Andalusian. And the
Indian mothers were as unlike: the gentle
Aztecs of Peru, the fierce Guarani of
Paraguay, the sanguinary Puelche of the
Pampas, the indomitable and independent
Araucanian of Chile.
Inheritance tells. The Spanish-Indian
mestizo exhibits the diversity of his an-
cestry. ‘To inheritance has been added
the effect of local environment and isola-
poyonoyun
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AWAKENING OF ARGENTINA AND CHILE
tion. A profoundly interesting field of
research in human variation awaits the
student of the race in evolution.
In touching on this vast example of
human evolution involving today 60,000,-
000 of people, we can glance only at some
of the incidents related to the Argentine
and Chilean nations. Both populations
were well established before the close of
the sixteenth century, but by very unlike
elements. Valdivia and his successors,
the invaders of Chile, were soldiers bent
solely on conquest, such as they had taken
part in in Peru, for immediate gain; the
colonists who in successive expeditions
founded Buenos Aires came with wives
and children, with horses, mares, and im-
plements of husbandry, to settle in the
land.
THE SPIRITED PRODUCT OF A RACIAL
AMALGAMATION
The warring invaders of Chile met and
mingled with a warlike Indian race, the
Araucanians, and their issue is without
question the most independent, the bold-
est, the most aggressive of South Ameri-
can peoples.
The merchant colonists who sought the
Rio de la Plata maintained to a greater
degree the purity of the European blood
and have constantly been reinforced by
fresh immigrations from all the nations
of western Europe. They are today the
most enterprising, as they are the most
cosmopolitan and progressive, of the
Spanish-Americans.
During the first century of its exist-
ence the colony of Buenos Aires was the
victim of that monopolistic policy so char-
acteristic of the individualistic Spanish
tendencies. Although destined by geo-
graphic situation and accessibility from
both land and sea to be the commercial
focus of the continent, the settlement was
denied commercial intercourse.
During half a century the shipment of
cargoes to or from Buenos Aires was ab-
solutely prohibited under penalty of
death, and during the following 50 years
traffic through the port was so restricted
and burdened as to amount to prohibi-
tion. Lima was the center of govern-
ment and monopoly. All the produce of
the continent destined to Spain was gath-
141
ered there and shipped via the Isthmus
of Panama. Only articles of small bulk
and high value could pay the freight
charges and the imposts. ‘The heavy
freight of hides, wheat, or wool could
not move by that channel; and the pam-
pas of Buenos Aires, producing nothing
more valuable, shipped nothing.
No more colossal example of misgoy-
ernment, no more striking illustration of
the incapacity of medieval Spain to gov-
ern the colonies her soldiers had won, is
to be found even in her annals.
STATE'S RIGHTS IN THE ANTIPODES
The northern cities—Cordova, ‘Tucu-
man, Mendoza, and San Juan—were es-
tablished by leaders from Lima and re-
mained attached to that transmontane
capital, through which their commerce
flowed. They did not sympathize with
Buenos Aires in her isolation; and, later,
when independence from Spain had been
won, when the Argentine Republic was
struggling into existence, the civil wars
were fought between the conservatives of
the interior and the progressives of the
coast. Something of the same division
exists today. Cordova and Mendoza are
intensely provincial; they are for States’
rights. Buenos Aires, grown immensely
powerful and the seat of national govern-
ment, emphasizes national control.
The isolation of Buenos Aires and the
pampas influenced the evolution of the
Argentine people of the country outside
of the cities in a striking degree. It
helped to develop the Gaucho, the Argen-
tine plainsman, whose natural evolution
in adaptation to the environment of the
pampas was intensified and accentuated
by separation from the ameliorating ef-
fects of intercourse and culture.
The Gaucho sprang from the Spaniard
and Indian. He was a nomad. His life
of frugality, activity, and hazard favored
the fittest and fiercest. He knew no law
save that of might. He was independent,
daring, familiar with violence, and care-
less of life. Had he through a Spanish
parent some Moorish strain, he repre-
sented in the pampas his ancestors, who
had galloped over the plains of Arabia.
Sarmiento describes in graphic language
the wild barbaric character and life of
142
the Gaucho and finds a likeness to Arabs
he himself had known.
THE CARRANZAS AND VILLAS OF A BYGONE
GENERATION
In the wars of independence, 1810-
1816, the Gaucho played an important
part under-General San Martin and Gen-
eral Belgrano; in the civil wars that fol-
lowed he fought. under captains of more
or less authority, such as Carranza, Villa,
and Orozco are today; and in the tyrant
Rosas, 1830-1852, he became the dictator
over the lives and fortunes of the higher
classes of society.
It would be of interest in a study of
Rosas to compare and contrast him with
Diaz of Mexico, Guzman Blanco of
Venezuela, Francia and Lopez of Para-
guay, and many others of his kind, who
represent the natural product of anarchy,
the tyrannical “caudillo,” or chief; but in
Argentine and Chilean history the tyrant
belongs to a vanished past.
Under the presidents who have suc-
ceeded, from Mitre, in 1862, to Saenz
Pena, in 1910, the government of the Re-
public has been held by those who felt
themselves entitled to rule by virtue of
their education, intelligence, and ability.
WHEN REPUBLICAN GOVERNMENT WILL
DAWN
Saenz Pena took the patriotic stand
that he was president of the nation, not
of a party only; he carried sound elec-
tion laws and enforced them, with the re-
sult that the administration was antago-
nized, the congressional majority was dis-
organized, and the law -making body was
paralyzed by party strife, which is not yet
ended. Meanwhile the radical and social-
ist vote grows with each election, and
may become a serious menace in a coun-
try where there is no considerable middle
class of conservative property owners—
citizens between the wealthy land-owners
and the peons.
Immigration and the occupation of
figment of
THe NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
lands by the small farmer proprietor are
means working toward the establishment
of the middle class, without which so-
called republican government in Argen-
tina or elsewhere must always remain a
reality. The government
wisely seeks to promote immigration, and
there are laws designed to favor the in-
crease of small holdings, the principal one
being the inheritance law, which tends
toward the division of large estates.
But immigration is not large. It is off-
set by emigration, amounting, in I9QIT,
1912, and 1913, to about 50 per cent of
the immigrants. And the net annual re-
sult is an increase of only about 2 per
cent in the population. Considering the
great extent of territory, the small popu-
lation, and the wealth of the nation, this
is not a favorable showing. Spanish and
Italian immigrants form about 80 per
cent of the total, and entering, as many
of them do; merely as laborers for the
harvest season, they form an even larger.
proportion of the emigrants.
The attachment of these peasants to
their homes in Spain and Italy is one rea-
son for their return migration; but there
is a deeper cause for emigration and for
the crit net increase in population by
immigration. There is no room in Ar-
gentina, except in remote territories, for
the man with small capital unless he is
willing to remain a laborer. Liberal im-
migration laws do not help him. His way
to independence as a farmer is barred by
the great landed proprietors.
In Argentina, as in all other Spanish-
American countries, the prevalence of
great estates, the condition of the “lati-
fundia,’ the old Roman curse, is the
greatest obstacle to citizenship and good
government. To pursue this topic would
lead us too far afield; but it is pertinent
to the contrasting of North and South
America to remind ourselves that the Re-
public is founded in that body of intelli-
gent and independent citizens who own
their homes. They alone govern steadily.
VE Seng
DiNsy
WARDS OF THE UNITED STATES
Notes on What Our Country is Doing for Santo Domingo,
Nicaragua, and Haiti
HE, island of Haiti, upon which
are located the Black Republic of
Haiti and the Mulatto Republic of
Santo Domingo, is the scene today of two
of the most interesting experiments in
government that may be found anywhere
in the world.
After a century of effort to maintain
itself as a separate, independent, sover-
eign nation, Santo Domingo in 1905
found itself about to fall victim to its
own excesses. Revolution had followed
revolution almost with clocklike regu-
larity. There were assassinations, there
were betrayals, there were conspiracies,
there were wars within and wars with-
out—war with Haiti over boundary ques-
tions and civil war over the control of the
government. Debts were piled up with-
out thought of the day of payment, or
even provisions for meeting interest
charges. Those who were in control of
the government, whether for a day or
for a year, were. more concerned about
the money that could be abstracted from
the national treasury than they were
about the preservation of the national
credit.
So long and so steady was the orgy of
revolution, speculation, debt-making, and
interest-dodging that the nation’s credit
grew worse than that of its individual
citizens. Finally the day of reckoning
came. Foreign warships approached the
ports whose harbors had given refuge to
the great discoverer Columbus, and whose
capital city still contains what undoubt-
edly are his ashes, and demanded that the
claims of their ‘subjects be satisfied—
claims for-money advanced, claims for
interest accumulated, claims for property
wantonly destroy ed—and they demanded
it at the point of big naval guns.
Ordinarily the Dominicans, like most
of the other peoples of tropical America,
dislike the Monroe Doctrine and view it
as a reflection upon their strength. They
think they are big enough to take care of
themselves and look upon that interna-
tional policy as one tending to interfere
with their sovereignty.
ANY PORT IN A STORM
When Santo Domingo’s treasury was
empty, however, its borrowing capacity
at zero, and Europe at its door threaten-
ing to take over its administration, and
thus to collect its debts, no harbor ever
looked more like a haven of refuge to a
storm-tossed mariner than the Monroe
Doctrine did to the Dominicans. In a
hole from which they were powerless to
extricate themselves, they were ready
enough to negotiate a treaty turning over
the control of the country’s customs to
the United States if, in return therefor,
the United States would protect them
from angry European creditors and re-
juvenate their treasury.
And so it was that in 1905 the United
States undertook to serve as treasurer of
Santo Domingo and to vouch for her
debts. Under the modus vivendi first,
and then under the treaty, it was agreed
by Santo Domingo that the United States
should take over her customs-houses, put
them under an American Receiver of
Customs, and distribute the collections in
certain proportions among the several
necessities of the country. ‘First, the cost
of the receivership should be met, not to
exceed 5 per cent of the collections ; then
$100,000 was to be paid monthly into the
interest and sinking funds for the amorti-
zation of the loan which had been made
under the guarantee of the United States ;
the remainder was to go to the Dominican
Government, with the exception that
when the revenues exceeded $3,000,000
a year one-half of the excess should go
to the sinking fund.
There was a provision in the agree-
ment giving the United States some con-
trol over the power of revenue legisla-
tion. It was to be consulted when
changes of the tariff laws were consid-
. Photograph by Harriet Chalmers Adams
THE TOMB OF COLUMBUS IN THE CATHEDRAL, OF SANTO DOMINGO CITY: SANTO
DOMINGO
When the Spaniards undertook to remove the ashes of the great discoverer from Santo
Domingo to Havana, they apparently made a mistake and took the casket containing the
bones of his son, Diego, instead; for later, when the cathedral was being remodeled, a leaden
casket was found, the inscriptions on and in which tend conclusively to show that it contains
Christopher Columbus’ ashes. The most painstaking care was taken to establish the identity
of the casket found, and practically every unbiased investigator agrees with the historian of
Columbus, John Boyd Thatcher, that his ashes repose in the Cathedral of Santo Domingo
instead of at Sculla, Spain, as the Spaniards believe.
144
Photograph by Harriet Chalmers Adams
RUINS OF THE DAYS OF COLUMBUS: CAPE ISABELLA, SANTO DOMINGO
These are the ruins of the oldest surviving structure of the white man’s permanent occupa-
tion of the New World
ered, and the debt could not be increased
without our consent.
When the question of a revision of the
tariff came up it. was urged by the Amer-
ican authorities that the duties should be
laid on luxuries rather than upon necesst-
ties, upon the things of the rich rather
than upon those of the poor. It was the
other way around under the old régime.
There was a high duty on cotton and a
low one on silks, a heavy impost on beer
and a light one on champagne. Rice bore
a heavy duty and sardines in oil next to
none.
A NEW TARIFF POLICY
Under the revision supervised by the
United States all this was changed. ‘The
tariff, as a whole, was cut down, and
necessities were admitted at low rates and
luxuries at high ones. ‘The general re-
duction was 50 per cent on export taxes
and 14 per cent on import duties.
And yet, in spite of this great reduc-
tion, in spite of payments of $1,200,000
a year on the debt, there was still left a
greater net income for the use of the
government than it had ever had before.
AN ASTOUNDING PERFORMANCE!
Not only that, but, under the law
which entitled him to 5 per cent for the
expense of collections, the receiver wa
able to reduce the costs to such a point
that in seven years he turned into the
Dominican treasury $200,000. It was
astounding to the Dominicans that any
one should turn into the treasury the sav-
ings of an economical administration.
For a long time it was thought that,
deprived of the opportunity of securing
customs-house revenues through the seiz-
ure of ports, revolutions could not sup-
port themselves. But after six or seven
years of peace, during which unprece-
dented strides of progress were made,
trouble broke out again, and during 1914
and 1915 it became so serious that the
United States was forced to intervene in
behalf of peace and to demand, with ma-
rines on shore and naval guns trained and
pointed on the ports, that the country re-
,
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146
Photograph by Harriet Chalmers Adams
GATEWAY TO THE CITY OF SANTO DOMINGO
Near the river gate is a sturdy ruin, made up of two square towers joined by a central
block.
time when it was “the magnifical and princelyke house”
turn to a state of quiet. And so today
the Dominicans, realizing that the Mon-
roe Doctrine is determined to afford them
protection from their own excesses, their
- own bitter passions and blind purposes,
have accepted the inevitable and have se-
cured the blessings of peace from with-
out when they could not attain that end
themselves. It is a reluctant acquiescence
they yield, but a wholesome one, none the
less.
It has not been without effort or with-
out expense, nor yet without the actual
sacrifice of blood and life that our coun-
try has stepped in to play the role of Good
Samaritan to the peoples of Santo Do-
mingo, Haiti, and Nicaragua, who had
lost the blessings of peace and were un-
able to regain them. In Haiti alone we
lost one officer and six marines and hada
number wounded. How much in money
it has cost has not been ascertained offi-
cially, but the usual estimate is that it
costs $1,000 a year to support an Ameri-
can soldier in the tropics, and thousands
of them have been sent down there. Of
147
Black and roofless, in spite of the squalor of its surroundings, it still proclaims the
of Ch ristopher Columbus.
course, the bulk of this would have been
spent whether such help was rendered or
not, for the Marine Corps is maintained
even though it sees no active service.
OUR COUNTRY’S COLONIAL ACHIEVEMENTS
But out of it is growing results of
which a nation which covets no territory,
which seeks only its own security and the
welfare of its unfortunate neighbors, may
well be proud.
In Porto Rico we have reduced the
death rate from 45 per 1,000 to 19 per
1,000, and a beginning along the same
lines is being made in these new fields of
American altruistic endeavor. In Porto
Rico wages have increased from 16 cents
to 75 cents, and stable conditions show
encouraging results in the same direction
in our new ward lands. In Porto Rico
the school attendance jumped from 20
per cent to more than 85, and these new
wards are trying to follow in Porto
Rico’s path.
Wherever America has gone, whether
to Cuba, whether to Panama, whether to
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The inhabitants of Santo Domingo City well may be a proud people.
of Ober:
Photograph by Harriet Chalmers Adams
ON THEIR WAY FROM SCHOOL: SANTO DOMINGO CITY, SANTO DOMINGO
For, in the words
“What other city of America can boast as its one-time citizens a ereat discoverer
like Columbus, a fifteenth century humanitarian like Las Casas, a monster of depravity like
Ovando, and a quartette of conquerors like Velasquez, who subjugated Cuba;
Cortez, who
conquered Mexico; Balboa, the explorer of Darien, discoverer of the Pacific, and Pizarro,
who stole the treasures of Peru?”
Santo Domingo, Porto Rico, Nicaragua,
the Philippines, or Haiti, the welfare of
the people has been her first concern; and
while all colonial history shows that the
tares of evil are never absent from the
wheat of good, our nation’s record of
help given where most needed is one that
well may challenge our admiration and
quicken our patriotism.
The success in Santo Domingan cus-
toms administration and debt amortiza-
tion led to another experiment along the
same line a few years later. Nicaragua
became revolution-torn, resulting in the
overthrow of Zelaya and the conversion
of the country from an unspeakable des-
potism into one of ruinous anarchy.
Rival factions issued fiat money as freely
as tap water flows from a spigot. The
treasury was bankrupt, interest was in
I5I
default, foreign creditors were threaten-
ing through their governments to collect
their debts with gunboats and cruisers,
and there was not enough money to be
had by the party in power even to pay
salaries, much less soldiers’ wages.
HELPING NICARAGUA ESCAPE THE THROES
OF CHRONIC REVOLUTION
In its insecure tenure under these con-
ditions, the party in power was only too
willing to save itself, and incidentally the
country, by appealing to the United
States and by offering to make itself an
instrumentality in American hands for
the rejuvenation of the nation. The
United States accepted the opportunity,
and a treaty was entered into giving this
country control of Nicaraguan finances
and the right to intervene in the interest
OFFICERS OF THE HAITIAN ARMY ON THE STREETS OF PORT AU PRINCE, HAITI
The army officers of Haiti were as fond-of gold lace as a mountain girl.of bright colors.
Small wonder, then, that the regalia of a field marshal was everywhere in evidence. ‘Times
have changed, however, and now the American marine in quiet khaki takes the place of the
Haitian fire-eater and his resplendent costumes.
Photographs by Mrs. C. R. Miller
HAITIAN SOLDIERS CARRYING COFFEE TO THE WHARF IN ORDER TO GET SOMETHING
TO BAT
The pay of a Haitian soldier was small at best, nothing at worst, and at all times insuf-
ficient to keep the warrior fed decently. The days for loading coffee on departing ships
were great days in Haiti. They were days when the army got a square meal.
i)
on
to
sn DI IVD
$ Oca ne
THE ENTRANCE TO A SO-CALLED VAUDOUX TEMPLE: HAITI
Every authority on Haiti agrees that vaudoux, or voodoo, worship exists there, and that
it is probably a survival of African fetichism. It is agreed by all authorities that now and
then in the frenzy of the snake dances the worshipers refuse to be content with anything
less than a sacrifice of the “goat without horns”’—a living child. When one of the recent.
presidents of the Republic was assassinated, he carried the emblems of vaudouxism next to
his heart, showing that the cult has existed even in the highest places.
THE FISH MARKET: PORT AU PRINCE, ATT
Situated in a region famous for its fine fish, among them the delectable and plentiful
“red snapper,” the Haitians eat quantities of salt-cod from Massachusetts waters; and the
quality of this imported staple is such as would not find favor in American markets.
154
STREET SCENE: SANTO DOMINGO CITY,
pe oullain spite of it-all)
ing cities in these waters.
Photograph by Harriet Chalmers Adams
THE CAPITAL,
Santo Domingo remains one of the most fascinating and inspir-
To walk through its highways and its alleys is to turn
over the pages of an old missal illumined with faded gilt and precious colors, the incense-
perfumed leaves of which are patched with shreds of gutter jours and interbound with
gaudy prints, ballad sheets, and play bills
of peace during the life of the compact.
Controlling the finances after the Santo
Domingan plan, the United States ar-
ranged a new loan, most of it to be spent _
in refunding the debts of Nicaragua and
the remainder in making certain internal
improvements necessary to the progress
of the country.
Here, again, the plan worked beauti-
fully as long as hydra-headed revolution
remained under--cover. ‘Trouble broke
out again, however, and only the presence
of American marines has served to keep
the peace. The “outs” are bitterly against
the role being played by the United
States; but Nicaragua is being rejuve-
nated, in spite of every handicap that
their state of mind entails.
This rejuvenation consists in the plac-
ing of the country on a stable financial
basis, both with respect to foreign credit
and internal investments, the lowering of
the death rate through sanitary work, the
extension of education through the open-
ing of new schools, and the development
of the country through financial arrange-
ments for the construction of a railroad
See ES.
from the west to the east coast, the dredg-
ing of the rivers, etc.
That this all amounts to armed inter-
vention no one can deny. But both in
Santo Domingo and Nicaragua the step
was taken because necessity impelled it.
Unless the United States was to be forced
to abandon the Monroe Doctrine, it had
either to deprive other countries of their
remedies or else intervene itself.
But it was and is an intervention only
to discharge our international duty to the
countries of Europe under the Monroe
Doctrine and to rescue the countries in
which we intervened from this hopeless
morass of perpetual bloodshed and their
people from the quicksands of unending
riot.
If conditions were bad in Santo Do-
mingo when the United States undertook
to help the country back to peace and
prosperity, they were worse in Nicaragua
when we assumed the role of ouardian.
But even in Nicaragua they were mild
indeed as compared with those obtaining
in Haiti when our country finally stepped
in there.
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AMONG THE MOUNTAINS OF THE BLACK REPUBLIC
While most of the territory of Haiti is covered with a jungle growth of bewildering
density, there are many mountain sides which are brown and bare, the result of centuries of
erosion.
; Photograph by Harriet Chalmers Adams
THE STRONGHOLD OF CHRISTOPHE
“To hours further back in the hills stands the stupendous castle erected by the King as
a retreat when the French should come to avenge his murdered masters.
They never came,
having had enough of Haiti; but there Christophe immured himself behind walls twenty feet
in thickness and a hundred feet in height, in the long galleries and on the parapets mounting
more than three hundred cannon, most of which may be seen today. Here at last died the
great black king, self-slaughtered by a silver. bullet driven into his brain.’”—ObeEr.
CONDITIONS UNBELIEVABLY BAD
Conditions always have been unbeliev-
ably bad in that Republic. To begin with,
it is a place where black rules white,
where the Caucasian is referred to as the
“blanc,” just as we refer to the “negro.”
Froude, whose verdict agrees with those
of Sir Frederick Treves, who lived in
the island ; Sir Spencer St. John, who was
for 15 years British Minister there, and
F. A. Ober, who spent the best part of
two decades studying the islands of the
Caribbean, says of the Haitians: “They
speak French still; they are nominally
Catholics still; and the tags and rags of
the gold lace of French civilization con-
tinue to cling about their institutions.
But in the heart of them has revived the
old idolatry of the Gold Coast, and in the
villages of the interior, where they are
out of sight and can follow their instincts,
they sacrifice children in the -serpent’s
honor after the manner of their fore-
fathers.”
Sir Spencer St. John adds to this the
statement: “I have traveled in almost
every quarter of the globe, and I may say
that, taken as a whole, there is no finer
island than that of Santo Domingo—
Haiti. No country possesses greater ca-
pabilities, or a better geographical posi-
tion, more variety of soil, of climate, and
of production, with magnificent scenery
of every description, and hillsides where
the pleasantest of health resorts might be
established, and yet it is now the country
to be most avoided, ruined as it is by a
succession of self-seeking politicians,
without honesty or patriotism, content to
let the people sink to the condition of an
African tribe, that their own selfish pas-
sions may be gratified.”
F. A. Ober, commenting upon the story
of the country written by Sir Spencer,
159
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THE PRESIDENT
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would it have been more difficult for him
to corrupt his keepers or to escape, and
he spent three and a half years as a pris-
oner in the suburb of Kalamaria.
REMOVING THE EX-SULTAN
The outbreak of the Balkan War, in
the autumn of 1912, made it advisable for
the ex-sultan to be removed to Constan-
tinople. He was most unwilling to re-
turn, however, and was only persuaded
to do so by an emissary of the German
ambassador, who took him through the
Greek blockade in the dispatch boat of
the embassy.
A few weeks later the Greek army en-
tered the city, followed closely by a
smaller detachment of Bulgarians. The
final treaty of peace, signed at Bucharest
in 1913, adjudicated Saloniki, with the
remainder. of the Chalcidice and their
strategic hinterland, to Greece. But it is
apparently written that Saloniki shall
never long enjoy the blessings of peace.
At all events, an army of the Allies, as we
know, is now eritrenched there. And he
Photograph from Brown Brothers
SEA WASHING OVER INTO THE MAIN STREET OF SALONIKI
Barrels from lighters washed ashore.
Traffic suspended.
is a bolder prophet than I who will fore-
tell what may yet lie in store for the
people of Saloniki.
There is another aspect of Saloniki
which is scarcely less involved in dark-
ness and controversy, but which leads us
away from too dangerous ground and
offers a perhaps welcome escape from the
harassing questions of the present. It is
not surprising that so venerable a city
should contain most interesting relics of
its past. What is more surprising is that
these should be so little known to the
world at large.
AMERICAN STREET-CARS
ROMAN
RASS
ARCHES
UNDER
The oldest and most accessible of the
antiquities of Saloniki is the long Street
of the Vardar, slitting the town in two at
the foot of the hill. This street is a seg-
ment of the old Roman highway from
the Adriatic to the Bosphorus, which
earlier still was the Royal Way of the
Macedonian kings (see page 213).
The street is not particularly imposing,
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210
and as you watch the khaki soldiers kick
up its dust today, there is little to remind
you of the Janissaries of yesterday, the
cohorts of Belisarius, the Roman legions,
the phalanxes of Alexander, or Xerxes
and his Immortals. Still, you may play
fancifully enough with the centuries, as
American electric cars, driven by a mod-
ern Greek, a Spanish Jew, or haply some
stranded Turk, clang back and forth
under the Roman arch that spans the
Street of the Vardar near its eastern end.
The bas-reliefs about the bases of this
arch are so blurred that archzologists
long disagreed as to its precise date. But
a train of camels distinguishable among
them and the name of the river Tigris
have sufficed to identify the monument
as a triumphal arch of Galerius. In A. D.
296 Diocletian ordered him from the
Danube to the Tigris to meet the invad-
ing Persians (see page 214).
Galerius was beaten and only saved his
own life by swimming the Euphrates.
But the next year he returned to Meso-
potamia and wiped out his disgrace by
Photograph by Paul Thompson
GREEK CATHOLIC PRIESTS, FRENCH AND SERVIAN OFFICERS, AND MACEDONIAN
CITIZENS IN COSMOPOLITAN SALONIKI
destroying the army of the Persian king.
The walls of Saloniki were long a more
visible memento of her past. During the
last generation, however, they have grad-
ually been disappearing. The sea wall
was naturally the first to go, followed by
the lower part of the land wall on both
sides. Sultan Abd-ul-Hamid II causeda
modern boulevard to be laid out on the
site of the old fortifications to the east,
where the city has overflowed into the
suburb of Kalamaria, little suspecting
that he would ever live to see his handi-
work or hear it renamed after that
strange beast, the Constitution.
THE WHITE TOWER
He was wise enough to spare the great
round tower at the angle of the two walls,
which is the chief ornament of the water
front. The White Tower, surrounded
by a smaller crenellated wall of its own
and four bartizan turrets, is compara-
tively modern, being the work of Sulei-
man the Magnificent (see page 219).
But the greater part of these old de-
Photograph by Paul Thompson
A SALONIKI CROWD GATHER TO SEE THE FRENCH MINISTER AT ATHENS LEAVE A
CONFERENCE
The English hotel, the American street-car, and the French automobile proclaim the influence
of the Modern West in the New East
fenses date from the fourth century of
our era, when Theodosius the Great took
pains that Saloniki should not suffer the
fate of Adrianople at the hands of the
Goths. The walls of Saloniki are thus
older than the more famous walls of
Constantinople, which were built by the
grandson of Theodosius.
A year or two before their final de-
parture from Saloniki the Turks set
about destroying the remaining fortifica-
tions on the heights behind the town.
The acropolis of the Macedonian city was
here, and several fragments of the origi-
nal Greek masonry remain. In Byzan-
tine times the citadel was called the pen-
tepyrgion, the five towers, from an inner
circle of walls and towers that defend it.
They contain many interesting mono-
grams and inscriptions.
Saloniki possesses numerous other
relics of archzeological interest. The vis-
itor is continually discovering fragments
ho
tS)
of antiquity —a pre-Christian tomb
turned into a fountain, the stylobate of a
statue carrying a street lamp, an intricate
Byzantine carving set into a wall, a bro-
ken sarcophagus.
SALONIKI’S CHURCHES
But the finest remains of the ancient
city are its churches. How they ever sur-
vived the tempests of the Middle Ages is
a miracle. Nevertheless they did, twenty-
two of them. And there they stand to-
day, turned back into churches after their
five hundred years of use as mosques,
illustrating the story of Byzantine eccle-
siastical architecture even more beauti-
fully, in certain ways, than those of Con-
stantinople. Moreover, they make up be-
tween them a museum of the lost Byzan-
tine art of mosaic, unrivaled save in Con-
stantinople and Ravenna.
The oldest of these churches, and after
the arch of Galerius the most ancient
Mawel pe
2 OS :
Photograph by Frederick Moore
THE STREET OF THE VARDAR: SALONIKI (SEE PAGE 209)
Fi. = Os ee ee,
Photograph by Frederick Moore
THE ARCH OF GALERIUS ON THE STREET OF THE VARDAR, IN SALONIKI, GREECE
The arch is Roman, the driver, mayhap, is a Spanish Jew, and its passengers are Greek
and Turk, Jew and Gentile, bond and free; for it is a congress of nations that gathers in
Saloniki and the gamut of human conditions that its people run.
214
Photograph by F. J. Koch
THE TURKISH CANDY SELLER: SALONIKI
There is no law requiring the screening of food in Saloniki, and the traveler here, as
well as elsewhere in southeastern Europe, wonders how many hundred million germs are
sold with every sale of street-side sweetmeats.
monument in the city, is St. George.
During the long Turkish period it was
the mosque of Hortaji Stileiman Effendi.
St. George is unlike any other church in
Saloniki or Constantinople, in that it is
of circular form (see page 220).
Its design, more characteristic of Italy
than of the Levant, reminds us that Sa-
loniki was more directly under Italian
influence than under that of Constanti-
nople, and that until the eighth century
the city was, in religious matters, subject
to Rome. The exterior of the church
has no great effect and the dome 1s
masked by a false roof. The interior is
more imposing. The immensely thick
walls contain eight vaulted recesses. Two
of these are entrances, while a third, cut-
ting through the full height of the wall,
leads into the apse. The barrel vaulting
of the recesses is encrusted with mosaics
of great antiquity.
DID ROSI KNOW HOW TO SPELL?
Having begun to drop into ruin, these
mosaics were handed’ over, some years
iS)
4
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since, to a restorer, who painted in what
he lacked the means to replace. He also
had the courage to sign his name, Rosi,
to the result, causing the present witness
of his infamies to question whether he
even knew how to spell. His imitations,
however, and the fragments of original
mosaic give an idea of the invention and
decorative sense that covered those ceil-
ings with birds, flowers, and linear de-
signs in blue and green and gold.
The dome of the church contains the
finest mosaic in Saloniki and one of the
finest in the world. The Roman, the pre-
Christian air of St. George, is emphasized
again in that series of classic-looking per-
sonages and buildings, divided architect-
urally into eight parts, corresponding to
the eight openings below, but united by a
mosaic balustrade that seems to guard
the spring of the dome. At one point of
the balustrade a peacock perches, his tail
drooping magnificently toward the spec-
tator.
Not the least interesting of the churches
of Salonikiis St. Sophia. Like its greater
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16
Photograph by Frederick Moore
A GATEWAY IN THE CITY WALLS: SALONIKI
217
" eS
Photograph by P. Zepdji
THE CHURCH OF ST. SOPHIA BEFORE ITS RESTORATION IN IQIO: SALONIKI
Until its last destruction by fire, in 1891, St. Sophia was one of the few Byzantine churches
Jiectrea att a Be
preserving its original atrium (see page 219)
lo
va)
“he noe pre .
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
THE WHITE TOWER, BUILT BY SULEIMAN THE MAGNIFICENT (SEE PAGE 211)
homonym in Constantinople, it is a domed
basilica, and it was long considered to be
a provincial copy of that great original.
As a matter of fact, the Saloniki church
is the original, having been built a hun-
dred years or more the earlier, at the end
of the fourth or the beginning of the fifth
century (see picture, page 218).
For the student of Byzantine archi-
tecture, therefore, it has a place of its
own, as being a tentative solution of
problems which Justinian’s cathedral was
so triumphantly to surmount. The
church has suffered disastrously by fire,
earthquake, and restoration.
But the original lines of the structure
remain, the pillars and beautiful capitals
of wind-blown acanthus, and two fine
fragments of mosaic. In the vault of the
bema is a gold cross inscribed in a circle,
on a rich blue-green ground, while the
golden semi-dome of the apse contains a
seated Virgin and child—of the eighth
century. The principal mosaic, an As-
cension, with decorative green trees be-
tween the standing figures, lines the great
dome. It is supposed to date from 645,
though the figure of Christ in the center
is older still.
SOME TURKS TOLERANT
I first saw these interesting mosaics
while Saloniki was still a Turkish town.
And it struck me as confirming in the
Saloniki Turk, leader in the movement of
his country toward western civilization,
a tolerance less characteristic of his Asi-
atic brother—that decorations contraven-
ing every canon of orthodox Moham-
medanism should remain to offend the
eyes of the faithful. There are more
Mosaics tO be Sseent in the laroernsot.
Sophia of Constantinople, but none of
them represent human forms or orna-
ment the central parts of the structure.
This impression, repeated in St.
George, was strengthened by the Cathe-
dral of St. Demetrius. That five-aisled
basilica, dating from the beginning of the
fifth century, although restored and en-
larged in the seventh, is the largest and
best preserved of the Saloniki churches,
as well as one of the finest structures of
its type in existence.
219
EES CEU RCE IOE: Sil:
Ee
H. G. Dwight
Photograph by
GEORGE, KNOWN IN THE TURKISH PERIOD AS THE MOSQUE OF
HORTAJI SULEIMAN EFFENDI
“Tts design, more characteristic of Italy than of the Levant, reminds us that Saloniki
was more directly under Italian influence than under that of Constantinople, and that until
the eighth century the city was, in religious matters, subject to Rome” (see text, page 215).
Although pillaged at the time of the
Turkish conquest, it fortunately fell into
the hands of the Mevlevi, more popularly
known as the Whirling Dervishes, who
are among the most tolerant of Moham-
medans.
ALL MEN BROTHERS
The dervish who showed me about, on
the occasion of my first visit, pointed out
that the figures objectionable from a
Turkish point of view had merely been
covered with a curtain, adding that all
men were brothers, and that mosques and
churches alike were the houses of God.
st. Demetrius, at any rate, still con-
tains much interesting and beautiful deco-
rative detail. There are superb verd-
antique columns on either side of the
nave, their early Byzantine capitals are
of great variety, and the spandrels of the
arches are ornamented with charming de-
signs of inlaid marble. There is also a
good deal of mosaic in the aisles and the
bema, the oldest being that of the north
wall. It dates from the seventh century,
though some of it has been retouched.
In spite of its early period the basilica
has an oddly baroque air. This is chiefly
due to an imitation of a cornice on a flat
surface of variegated marble. And in
one place the veined marble of the walls,
sawn in thin sections from the same
block, is so arranged as to simulate
drapery.
In a dark chamber opening out of the
narthex is shown what purports to be the
tomb of St. Demetrius himself. But the
real shrine was despoiled at the time of
the Turkish conquest, and existed in an-
other part of the cathedral.
SALONIKI ra
PATRON OF THE HUSBANDMEN
A place like Saloniki might have sug-
gested to Heine his fancy of gods in ex-
ile. St. Demetrius is not merely the suc-
cessor of Aphrodite and the Cabiri in the
prayers of the Thessalonians. He is, by
some strange turn of fortune, the true
heir of Pelasgian Demeter. As such, he
is the patron of husbandmen throughout
the Greek world, and his name day, No-
vember 8 (or October 26, old style),
marks. for Greeks and Turks alike the
beginning of winter—as the day of his
associate St. George, upon whom has
fallen the mantle of Apollo, marks the
beginning of summer.
Whether the Greek St. Demetrius and
the Turkish Kassim be one and the same,
this is not the place to inquire. But their
fete day is the same, and the Cathedral
- of St. Demetrius was called by the Turks
the Kassimieh. In any case, the good
people of Saloniki, whether Christian or
Mohammedan, must have found it highly
significant that the Greek army of 1912
entered their city on the name day of
their patron saint.
UNREALIZED OPPORTUNITIES
Many cities that can boast so much in
the way of interesting antiquities have
survived themselves. They live only in
the memory of what they have been.
But not so Saloniki. She is too much in-
terested in what she 1s and in what she
is going to be to think very much about
her past. So little indeed has she yet
taken in, as the remainder of Europe has
so profitably done, the possibilities of a
past, that I was unable to find there a
map of the city.
And as I went from shop to shop in
search of photographs of the churches I
was followed by an officer looking vainly
for a Baedeker. Imagine—in a town
where one may live quite as comfortably
as in Siena or Verona, and where there
is quite as much to see!
Somebody had told me that Saloniki
was rather like Genoa. My first impres-
sion, therefore, was of a disappointing
flatness, not in the least comparable to the
lofty air—the piled, bastioned, heaven-
scaling air—of the Italian city. Yet Sa-
loniki scales heaven; too, in her more
discreet manner.
And there is even something faintly
Italian about her. This is most palpable
on the broad quay of the water front,
especially when a veritable row of fish-
ermen from the Adriatic are drying nets
or sails under the sea wall, just as they
do in Venice. Thé crescent of white
buildings facing the blue bay would not
look foreign in any Rimini or Spezzia.
The White Tower, which is the most
conspicuous of them, might perfectly
have been the work of an Italian prince.
Indeed, a Doge of Venice is said to have
built the first edition of it, and Stileiman
the Magnificent employed Venetian ma-
sons for his own.
A GREEK “MOVIE” THEATER
A “splendid palace” opens florid gates
of hospitality there. A skating rink and
a cinematograph offer their own more
exotic attractions to the passer-by. Cafés
abound, overflowing onto the awninged
sidewalk. Electric trams clang back and
forth in proud consciousness of the fact
that they existed when imperial Constan-
tinople was yet innocent of such mod-
ernities.
They take you around the eastern horn
of the bay to the trim white suburb of
Kalamaria, where consuls and other nota-
bles of Saloniki live, and where Sultan
Abd-ul-Hamid IT spent nearly four bitter
years in the Italian Villa Allattini, look-
ing out at the provincial capital which he
and Nero both embellished in their day.
On the opposite horn of the crescent is
the Latin-enough park of Besh Chinar—
Five Plane Trees—where it is good to
sip coffee and listen to music in the cool
of the day.
And if you did not know that greater
prize and ornament of Saloniki for
Olympus, the true Thessalian Olympus
of Greek legend, you might easily imag-
ine it to be some white Alp or Apennine
looming magnificently across the bay.
Look a little closer, however, and this
Italian appearing town has unfamiliar
details. The white campanili that every-
where prick up above the roofs of weath-
ered red are too slender and too pointed
TURKISH ILOUSES
This picturesque bridge, color-washed in red, and frescoed in quaint landscapes,
%
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
IN SALONIKI
leads from
the mansion of its owner to his garden across the street
for true bell towers.
at the quay you perc
cars
Then, as you land
eive that the electric
are labeled in strange alphabets.
The cafés do not look quite as they
should, either.
A COSMOPOLITAN ASPECT
As for the people in them, a good many
would pass without question. Just such
slight and trim young men in Italy would
sit at little tables on the sidewalk. Just
such young women, rather pale and pow-
dered as to complexion, rather dusky as
to eyes and hair, would sit beside them.
And you hear a good deal of Italian.
But you hear more of other and less
to
bo
familiar languages. And those red fezzes
are a new note. So are those more
numerous hay-colored uniforms that sat
at no caffe in my Italian days
A more striking note is afforded by
numerous dignified old gentlemen taking
their ease in bath-robes, as it were, slit a
little up the side and tied about the waist
with a gay silk girdle. Over the bath-
robe they usually wear a long, open coat
lined with yellow fur, which cuards them
from the cold in winter and in summer
from the heat. And none of them is
without a string of beads, preferably of
amber, dangling from his hand and giv-
ing him something to play with.
Such an old gentle-
man should be accompa-
nied by an old lady, who
contributes what is most
characteristic to the local
color of Saloniki. The
foundation of her cos-
tume is a petticoat of
some dark silk, and a
white bodice crossed be-
low her throat—a very
thin bodice, cut very low
at «the neck, and very
palpably unstiffened by
any such mail as western
women arm themselves
with.
WHERE THE CAMERA
FAILED
Over this substructure
the old lady wears a dark
satin bolero lined with
fur and two striped silk
aprons—one before and
one behind. The latter
is caught up on one side,
some corner of it being
apparently tucked into a
mysterious pocket. But
the crown and glory of
the old lady is a head-
dress which I despair of
describing. I wouldn't
have to 1f the old ladies
of Saloniki had not
formed a_ conspiracy
against me or thrown
over me some incantation that put my
wiles to nought.
For though I shadowed them by the
hour, camera as inconspicuously as pos-
sible in hand; though I lay in wait for
them behind corners and snapped at them
as they passed, I never succeeded in prop-
erly potting one of them. Therefore I
can only affirm that they wore on their
heads, pointing down toward their noses,
an invention that looked to me like the
pork-pie hat of Victorian portraits—if
such a name be not too abhorrent to
those particular old ladies.
The Saloniki specimen is no true hat,
however. It seems to be a sort of flat
frame, tightly wound about with a
stamped or embroidered handkerchief
and crowned with an oval gilt plaque set
223
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
A BIT OF OLD SALONIKI
off by seed pearls. Whatever its color,
this creation invariably ends in a fringed
tail of dark green silk, also ornamented
by a gilt or gold plaque of seed pearls,
hanging half way down the old lady’s
back. In this wonderful tail the old lady
keeps her hair, of which you see not a
scrap, unless at the temples. And about
her bare throat she wears strings and
strings of more seed pearls.
A MOTHER OF MANY
She is, this decorative, this often ex-
tremely handsome old lady, a mother in
Israel. The old gentleman in the gaber-
dine is her legitimate consort, while many
of the modernized young people at the
café tables are their descendants—very
many. A dozen different estimates of
Photograph by Zepdji
A GROUP OF BULGARIANS IN SALONIKI
One sees everywhere in this Greek metropolis reminders of the centuries during which
Turkey ruled in Saloniki.
Only the latest maps show Saloniki as a part of Greece, for it
was only during the first Balkan War that the region of which it is the center became
Greek territory.
the population were given me, varying
according to the race of my informant;
but they all agreed on the point that Sa-
loniki contains not far from 150,000 peo-
ple, and that more than half of them are
Jews.
There is also a considerable Moslem
population of Hebrew origin, mainly de-
scended from the followers of Sabatai
Levi, of Smyrna, a would-be Messiah of
the seventeenth century, who created a
great stir in this part of the world, and
who, being at last offered his choice be-
tween death and Islam, elected the latter.
Several of the Young Turk leaders be-
long to these Dénmeh, as they are called,
or Those Who Turned. They are still
looked upon a little askance by the ortho-
dox of both confessions.
Altogether the Jews of Saloniki are
more than a mere piece of local color.
They hold their heads up as do their co-
religionists in no other city in Europe—
down to the very boatmen in the harbor.
Photograph by Frederick Moore
GREEK WOMEN OF DRAMA, NEAR THE BULGARIAN BORDER
“Tt is not surprising that a city so admirably placed, whether for defense or for communica-
tion
Pleasant, hearty-looking fellows the last
are, too; fair-haired, many of them, and
blue-eyed. The language of these chil-
dren of Abraham is a corrupt Spanish.
The fathers of most of them were driven
out of Spain in the fifteenth century by
Ferdinand and Isabella. Long before
that, however, St. Paul mentioned a syn-
agogue in the city of the Thessalonians.
PICTURESQUE COSTUMES PASS AND
SCHOOLS ARE FILLED
I could not help regretting that the
younger generation should renounce its
picturesque heritage of costume. Yet I
was told that the change had entailed the
happiest results for Saloniki; had made
a dirty medieval town cleaner and more
comfortable than any other in its neigh-
borhood; had filled shops and banks and
schools. And it played in the greater
iS)
UL
should long have been known to men” (see text, page 205)
5S pag J
domain of the Turkish revolution a part
that has yet to be recorded.
Between the quay and the Street of
the Vardar lies the New Jerusalem of
this energetic population. The seaward
part of it is a Latin-looking and Greek-
speaking quarter for which Saloniki
cherishes considerable tenderness. I pre-
ferred, myself, such portions of it as
have not yet been Haussmannized, or
Midhatized. For Midhat Pasha, father
of the Turkish Constitution, was many
years ago Governor General of Saloniki,
and he left his mark in streets of uncom-
mon straightness for the Levant.
Between them alleys of sharp light and
shade meander under broad eaves, and
glimpses of pleasant courts and loggias
are to be caught through open doors.
There also congregate many at the re-
ceipt of custom, the more favored of
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Photograph by Frederick Moore
. REFRESHMENTS IN SALONIKI
“As I listened to Mr. Black Eyebrow, looking about me at the red fezzes, the white skull-
caps, the fur robes, and all the other variants of the Saloniki scene
why the equilibrium of races in Macedonia is so difficult to bring about”
understand
(see text, page 232).
them in roofed or awninged thorough-
fares, into which the A*gean sunlight
picturesquely drips.
A CONGRESS OF NATIONS
Little is Latin there. To loiter among
the booths of the bazaar, to explore the
busy squares and markets beyond it, to
stroll in the crowded Street of the Var-
dar, or to idle among the coffee-houses of
its western end, is to take in something
of the Macedonian question. Fur robes
and green pigtails are only incidents
among many. Sedate red fezzes come and
go. Tall Albanians, variously braided ac-
cording to their tribes and wearing a
white skull-cap on one ear, stalk through
the crowd with that lordly swing of
theirs.
Bulgarians, less lordly, but no less in-
different to the opinion of the world at
large, mind their own business in brown
home-spun. Kilted Greek peasants in
tight white trousers tasseled under the
I began to
knee, booted Montenegrins with hanging
sleeves, lend the scene an operatic air.
Women in hats, women in kerchiefs,
women in embroideries that you want to
buy off their backs—and sometimes do !—
women in the Turkish domino, offer a
complete exhibition of Balkan fashions.
Beyond the Street of the Vardar the
Turkish quarter begins. Saloniki is nat-
urally less of a Turkish town than it was,
when the Turks stood second and the
Greeks third in the roll of the local babel.
3ut while they have now changed places
the fez still adds a very appreciable note
to the color of Saloniki.
While Jews and Christians, too, live in
this part of the city, the higher you climb
the better you might imagine yourself to
be in Stamboul. There are more stone
houses, and some of them are unfamil-
jarly frescoed on the outside. The win-
dows, though, are latticed, as they should
be. There is a good deal of decorative
iron work about them.
Si
Photograph by Frederick Moore
THE BUTCHER: SALONIKI
“Saloniki is naturally less of a Turkish town than it was when the Turks stood second
and the Greeks third in the roll of local babel.
But while they have now changed places,
the fez still adds a very appreciable note to the color of Saloniki” (see text, page 228).
LISTENING TO A NATURALIZED
GRAMOPHONE
Upper stories lean out toward each
other on curved wooden brackets. Sten-
ciled under broad eaves, or hung there
like a picture in a frame, is an Arabic in-
vocation: “O Protector!’ “O Proprietor
of all Property!” Occasionally you pass
a building like a mosque without a min-
aret, whose domes are studded with glass
bulls’ eyes and within whose doorways
lounge half-nude figures in striped to-
gas—a Turkish bath. And you keep dis-
covering little squares where a plane tree
or two make shadow, where water is sure
to trickle, and where grave persons sit on
rush-bottomed stools, sipping coffee,
tno
smoking water-pipes, and listening it may
be to a naturalized gramophone.
At the tiptop of “the! hilliyou.are
stopped by the old walls, whose crenella-
tions print themselves so decoratively
across the sky as you look up. the long
streets from below. Or at least it was so
the last time I mounted to that Castel-
laccio of this Levantine Genoa.
Even then, however, unsentimental
crowbars were at work in that ancient
masonry. Through the resultant breaches
you look northward into a bare country
that dips and mounts again to a farther
background of heights. One reason why
the country is so bare is perhaps that it
was so long cut off from the city by the
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Photograph by Frederick Moore
STREET BARBERS IN THE TURKISH QUARTER
“And you keep discovering little squares where a plane tree or two make shadow, where
water is sure to trickle, and where grave persons sit on rush-bottomed stools, sipping coffee,
smoking water-pipes, and listening, it may be, to a naturalized gramophone” (see text,
page 220).
et tt A ROIS
ery
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
A SCENE IN THE VEGETABLE MARKET: SALONIKI
231
232
walls. It is, of course, well for the town
that it should have room to grow, as for
the country that it should be reclaimed
from the abomination of desolation.
But, being an irresponsible and senti-
mental tourist, I was sorry to see those
old stones dislodged. I was sorry, too,
for the storks. They congregate so pic-
turesquely among the battlements of Yent
Kapou that one wishes Saloniki might
take a tardy lesson from Florence and
save at least her gates.
THE VIEW REMAINS
However, no one can ever take away
the view, and that is the best reason for
climbing to this storied hilltop. They say
that. Xerxes of Persia, to whom. blue
water was a rare enough sight, sat here
long and admired the spectacle of the
underlying gulf, set jewel-lke between
its hills, with Olympus towering white at
the end of the vista.
If he did, I think better of him than
he otherwise deserves. I also highly ap-
prove the taste of the Turks in preferring
this part of Saloniki. Its hanging coffee-
houses are not so popular, to be sure, as
those of Besh Chinar, the quay, or the
Street of the Vardar. Yet one of them
I remember better than any other in the
town. Under its plane trees I had the
pleasure of hearing a certain famous
Turkish singer. The famous singer was
called Kara “Kash Effendi, otherwise Mr.
Black Eyebrow.
Mr. Black Eyebrow sat in a small
krosk, surrounded by a chosen company
of players on lutes and tambourines, who
attended respectfully the descent upon
their master of the divine afflatus. When
the divine afflatus descended, Mr. Black
Eyebrow put his hand to his cheek, as
Turkish singers do—I know not whether
crescendo—and
to aid their strange
TH NATIONAL €hOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
poured forth the melancholy of his heart
in a manner which most westerners pro-
fess to find laughable.
Whereby they prove again that what
we like is what we are used to, and that
few be they capable of taking in a new
impression. For myself, having long
been used to such singing, I could have
listened all day to the melancholy of the
heart of Mr. Black Eyebrow. It seemed
to form a singular medium of twilight,
in which the imagination played easily as
a bat.
SO THE PERSIANS MUST. HAVE SUNG
So I thought the Persians must have
sung down there in ancient Therma, as
they gathered for their march to Ther-
mopyle. So sang, perhaps, the Moors |
in Spain. And so the Janissaries sang
when they had driven the lion of St.
Mark out of that blue bay.
As I listened to Mr. Black Eyebrow,
looking about me at the red fezzes, the
white skullcaps, the fur robes, and all the
other variants of the Saloniki scene, I
suddenly realized for the first time in my
life why it is that a macédoine ina
French bill of fare is a dish with a little
of everything in? its And) I becanmito
understand, what no outsider can in his
own country, why the equilibrium of
races in Macedonia 1s so difficult to bring
about, and why any final equilibrium
must necessarily be in part an artificial
one. I could not help hoping that that
particular macédome has been served for
the last time.
At any rate, no one can deny that the
Greeks have an older claim to Saloniki
than any one else. Yet I could not help
feeling a little sorry for Mr. Black Eye-
brow and appreciating that not without
reason did he pour forth melancholy
from his heart.
Autochrome by Franklin Price Knott
AN ARAB BLACKSMITH
Except for his multi-colored turban, this strong-visaged native of Sfax, Southern Tunisia,
looks as if he might have posed for one of Rembrandt’s immortal masterpieces. From father
to son the blacksmith’s occupation is handed down, each leaving to his successor the heritage
of a reputation for skilful workmanship, even though his implements be primitive and his
wage meager.
Autochrome by Franklin Price Knott
A SHY KABYLE BEAUTY
There would seem to be no feminine reason why this picturesque young woman in her
brilliant costume should object to standing as a model before the color camera, but she, like the
other girls in the neighborhood of Michelet, Tunisia, eluded the artist for many days. As
fleet of foot as a gazelle, she would have made her escape had not the Mother Superior of the
Government hospital persuaded her to pose for the stranger, which she did with uncon-
scious grace.
Autochrome by Ifranklin Price Knott
A LAMB’S WOOL BOA
So closely attached to his flock is the shepherd of the ast that when necessity compels
him to select one of the number for the market, he “‘tempers the wind to the shorn lamb’’ by
carrying the victim about his neck instead of driving it before him to slaughter. This tawny
native of Tunisia has the thoughtful countenance of a Moorish philosopher of the days when
ranada was the center of culture in Western Europe.
Autochrome by Franklin Price Knott
A DANCER OF ALGIERS
With richly spangled jacket, jeweled headdress, voluminous scarlet trousers, and gold-
encircled ankles, the dancer is a more fascinating figure for the color artist than for the motion
picture photographer, and as a still study requires no censorship.
Autochrome by Franklin Price Knott
A SUDANESE AND HIS RACING CAMEL
While not so rare as the white elephant or the white rhinoceros, white camels are a novelty
to American eyes for they seldom find their way into circus caravans. This clipper-rigged
‘“‘ship of the desert’’ and his swarthy skipper were photographed near El Djem, in southern
Tunisia. A hundred miles a day is not an extraordinary distance feat for the mehari, as the
racing camel is called.
Autochrome by Franklin Price Knott
WHEN AGE COMES ON IN ALGERIA
The women of the Kabyle tribe, living in the Djurdjura Mountains, Northern Algeria,
chow the footprints of time early in life, as do the native women in all tropical climes and
especially among semi-civilized peoples. This burden-bearer is a picture of poverty.
Autochrome by Franklin Price Knott
A CARROT PEDDLER AND HIS PACK BEARER
Master and beast in a Tunis street appear the personification of lassitude. The peddler is
as oblivious of the colorful beauty of the Moorish column in the background as is the donkey
of the juicy provender on its back.
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Autochrome by Franklin Price Knott
THE TOWER OF JEWELS
A blaze of coruscant splendor at night anda graceful pinnacle of rainbow tints by day, this
structure was the color climax of the Panama-Pacific Exposition. In the foreground is a carpet
of riotous hues from Nature’s flower loom, which weaves more brilliantly and luxuriantly in
California’s sunshine than under any other skies. The musical play of many fountains de-
lighted the ear while the eye feasted upon the beauties so abundantly realized by architect
and landscape gardener.
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Halal YWHH AO LSILUV LSHLVAUD AHL
WOU dUI_ uUrpyuesryy Aq suo1yooiny
PRA a oe TE I Stoeger PTR
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PUSHING.
Autochrome by Franklin Price Knott
HER HOME 1S VOLENDAM, HOLLAND
And the face of this Dutch girl reflects efficiency, sturdiness and thrift, qualities which
make the women of her country among the best housewives 1n the world. So quaint are the
costumes of the fisher-folk of this village that a colony of English and Dutch painters has been
established here, and artist models are as numerous as the inhabitants. On Sundays the na-
tives are seen in their most striking attire.
Autochrome by Franklin Price Knott
A MASTER’S MODEL
Franz Hals would have made this Dutchman immortal by transferring to enduring canvas
his striking features, quizzical and highly individual. His bearskin cap, vivid neckerchiet
and flaming blouse would tax the skill of any master of pigments who tried to reproduce them
with the fidelity and freshness which have been accomplished here by the allied arts of natural
color photography and color-printing,
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THE HOARY MONASTERIES OF MT. ATHOS
By H. G. Dwicut
Sea from the mainiand of Chal-
cidice, in northeastern Greece,
like the prongs of a trident, are three
peninsulas. They leave the mainland
some forty miles southeast of Saloniki
and look as though they might be the
fork with which Neptune planned to
throw the island of Chios, on the Smyrna
coast, out of the sea. ‘The easternmost
of these peninsulas is that of Athos,
named from the great terminal peak
which rises like a pyramid out of the sea
at its A’gean end. The peninsula is about
forty miles long, varying in width from
four to seven miles, and it is entirely
owned and controlled by a group of mo-
nastic communities, which govern it under
a republican system (see map, page 271).
Mt. Athos chose to make its first ap-
pearance to us in the melodramatic light
of a midnight moon—a pale pyramid
looming vaguely above a high black
ridge, where a few lamps glimmered far
apart. Such a light was needed to lend
interest to Daphne, the port of the penin-
sula. In the less romantic clarity of a
March morning it appeared a dingy little
hamlet enough, consisting of a custom-
house, a postoffice, an inn, and the quar-
ters of the few residents so unfortunate
as to be stationed there.
| tn out into the A*gean
WHERE NO WOMAN MAY TREAD
in normal times of peace a weekly
Russian steamer and occasional Greek
ones constitute the sole incidents of their
lives, deprived, as they are—shall I say
of what is for other men the great inter-
est of life? For I must reveal to you, O
feminists, suffragists, suffragettes, and
ladies militant of the western world, that
here is a stronghold secure against your
attacks.
To put it more plainly, an ancient law
forbids any female creature to set foot on
the soil of the Sacred Mount. As one
might expect, of course, in a world in-
habited by descendants of Five, that law
has been broken. ‘There are legends of
inquisitive empresses who were miracu-
lously prevented, at the door, from defil-
ing certain monasteries by their intrusion.
There are other legends of monasteries
subjected to fasting, humility, and purifi-
cation by reason of some such uninvited
guest.
Moreover, a monk confessed to me in
whispers that during the terror of the
Greek War of Independence his mother
spent several months in asylum at the
monastery of St. Paul. And I have seen
water-colors of several of the monasteries
painted by Miss Canning, daughter of the
famous British Ambassador, Lord Strat-
ford de Redcliffe, who boldly accompa-
nied her father to Mt. Athos in the uni-
form of a midshipman of the Royal
Navy. But no such blinking of the law
is possible to an inn-keeper or unhappy
officer of customs.
Even the furred and feathered colo-
nists of Mt. Athos are supposed to leave
their harems at home. Neither cow nor
hen wakens the echoes of the monastic
community, and the monks’ kitchens are
supplied with milk, butter, and eggs from
their distant farms on the mainland. ‘The
dispiriting effects of celibacy are nowhere
so visible as among the army of tomcats
that haunt the cloisters. I must confess,
however, that I more than once had rea-
son to suspect a shameless bayadére of a
tabby of having secretly stolen across the
border.
And our mules had not borne us far
from barren Daphne before we perceived
other indications that the monks had not
altogether succeeded in eradicating the
eternal feminine from their midst. We
presently turned from the rocky seashore
into a gorge with a stone bridge at the
bottom of it and a waterfall hanging half
way from the top, where birds called so
cozeningly to each other that I can never
believe only bachelor birds were there.
“SPRING WILL BE SPRING”
Then as we zigzagged up a roughly
paved trail that looked from a distance
THE MONASTERY OF IVIRON:
Athos.
Iviron was founded in the tenth century,
later restored and enlarged by a Georgian prince;
; Photograph by H. G. Dwight
MT. ATHOS, GREECE
Iviron disputes with Vatopéthi the honor of being the second oldest monastery on Mt.
under the Empress Theophano. It was
hence the name, for the Georgians of the
Caucasus were known to the Greeks as the Iberians.
like a coil of rope dropped at random on
the mountain side, up and up past ter-
raced olive trees, past a white monastery
looking pleasantly at the sea from a high
green ° shelf, past ‘reaches of budding
wood, to a dip on top of the ridge, we
came upon great shrubs and _ fair-sized
trees of holly, so plenteously burdened
with big red berries that the monks should
have destroyed them, root and branch,
had they properly studied their botanies.
We also saw blossoming heather, broom,
violets, anemones, spikes of classic aspho-
del, and I know not how many other
proofs that spring will be spring in spite
of all the monks in the world.
And amid them all two great crosses
stood black on either lip of the hollow
against a far-away sea. So we dropped
at last, through what must once have
been a magnificent wood, to the village
of Karyés.
Karyés, otherwise The Walnuts, is the
capital of the community. It les just
under the crest of the peninsula, about
midway of its long eastern slope. An
ignorant newcomer runs fresh risk of in-
curring displeasure, even when he has
left his wife behind; for in the streets of
this other-worldly capital may no man
ride, smoke, sing, or otherwise comport
himself in too self-satisfied a manner.
Dismounting, accordingly, at a stone
block provided for that purpose, we had
the more leisure to admire Karyés—its
crooked alleys, its broad eaves, its om-
nipresent crosses, its running water, its
hanging gardens, its sudden visions of
white-capped Athos or the underlying
blue of the A‘gean, and its grave, bearded
black-gowned inhabitants, with uncut hair
tucked under black stove- -pipes; true
stove-pipes they were, too, having neither
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
THE MONASTERY OF PANTOKRATOR: MT. ATHOS, GREECE
This small but picturesque monastery, standing near the edge of the sea on the east side
of the peninsula, enjoys a wide view of the A’gean and of the peak of Athos.
Founded in
the fourteenth century, it is the seventh of the monasteries in point of age.
the brim of the West nor the upper flare
of the Greek clergy (see page 270).
Not all the inhabitants were gowned,
however. Some wore white Albanian
ballet skirts, tasseled garters below a tight
white knee, and a pompon at the turned-
up tip of each red slipper. These, we
learned, were members of a local pre-
torian guard. Others were less amply
kilted or trousered in different degrees
of bagginess; and not a few looked as
prosaic as ourselves.
WHERE VISITOR IS GUEST
Our muleteer was a little surprised that
we preferred to put up at an inn instead
of at one of the monastic establishments
in the suburbs of Karyés. ‘The reason of
his surprise lay in the fact that for many
travelers the true beauty of a pilgrimage
to Mt. Athos is that not only do you lay
up credit for yourself on high, but that
you do it for next to nothing. Any one
belonging to the worse half of humanity
may visit the monasteries and be gratui-
bo
Loar
tously entertained so long as he cares to
Stay.
So many avail themselves of this hos-
pitable privilege, however, that there are
degrees in the welcome extended by the
monks. It, tor instance... the: jpilorim
bring a letter from known ecclesiastical
authorities, he will receive more consid-
eration, and may even receive money for
his own purposes or for others commend-
ed to the generosity of the fathers. We
were not happy enough to possess a letter
of that particular kind; but we did bring
a letter from the highest of all ecclesiastt-
cal authorities in the Greek world, namely,
the Patriarch of Constantinople. In
theory, therefore, we were entitled to the
best the monasteries had to offer and
transportation from one to another by
mule or boat. For ourselves, we found
this scheme of things more embarrassing
than otherwise, and in most cases it either
increased the expense of our sojourn or
caused us unwillingly to hasten our de-
parture.
soyiu ov
SIM G
‘souly JO So9A09 pue sjo[ut dy} JO 9SOL
y.
ry) “Aq ydessoj0yg
I
ITUOTeS WOIy
} uvy} Surmaeys pur pnyJso1 o10ur sodeoseas Moy puv onbsosnjord os0ul
HOTA “SOHLV “LIN : NOHdJONUX AO AWALSVNOW WCHL
sadvospur], Moz aie ato J
‘soywiid UsdVIVg Aq JUANG pues poyoVs SLA BT ZOQ UT ‘AroyseuoUl OY} PIPMO} SUOTPLJOUSG AULUT YM UONIpeAy yeooy Aq
Popol St ‘oUOIY} IY} SuUNUNOW J9}ZV ‘FposuIYy Ssnipvory ‘shipeoty uos Sunod sty JO ‘Avg iyjodojeA ul ‘ouluMOsp Worf; advosa snoNoesIW oY} 104
OPHIHLAS UT Jot dy} sntsoposyy, Aq posirpua pur jInqor se YOM ‘OU! JUL}SUO,) yo A19\SeUOUL 24} Pesodjsop savy O} pres st ojeysody oy} urviyn{
yeas) oy} ouyurysuoy so1Iduyy oy} Aq popunof} sem Tyjodo}eA ‘Spuasoy [eoO] 0} Surpsosxy ‘aUOU 0} PUOoddS pinsuiued 94} UO ddUoN_UT ue 4
WOUHID “SOHLV ‘LIN /INVAdOLVA JO AVALSVNOW (HL
WSIM 5) PH Aq ydessojoyg
THE MAIN STREET OF KARYES: MT.
“Karyés, otherwise the Walnuts, is the capital of the community.
crest of the peninsula.
— a
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
ATHOS, GREECE
It lies just under the
An ignorant newcomer runs fresh risk of incurring displeasure even
when he has left his wife behind; for in this other-worldly capital may no man ride, smoke,
sing, or otherwise comport himself in too self-satisfied a manner” (see text, page 250).
But we made it our first duty in Karyés
to deliver our credentials, very sound-
ingly worded and wound about with a
long strip of paper stuck to the flap of
the envelope, to the Most Blessed As-
sembly of the Sacred Mount, whose ad-
dress it bore.
OLDER
The Most Blessed Assembly of the
Sacred Mount—or, more briefly, the
Kinotis—is a very interesting body. Mt.
Athos has always enjoyed special privi-
leges, whether under Byzantine emperors,
Turkish sultans, or its present suzerain
the King of Greece ; and the monasteries
have always ruled their own peninsula.
Of these there are now twenty, and they
administer their common affairs through
a parliament even more venerable, I be-
lieve, than Westminster. Each monastery
annually elects a representative to this
THAN WESTMINSTER
On
parliament, who occupies at Karyés a
house belonging to his abbey.
These houses preserve the memory of
the long Turkish régime, in that they are
known by the Turkish name of konadk—
mansion. Always roomy and _ substan-
tial, and sometimes handsome, they and
the gardens in which they stand add not
a little to the appearance of the diminu-
tive capital. In addition to the Kinotis,
which is a deliberative, legislative, and
judiciary assembly, there is a smaller
executive council of five, called the Epis-
tasia. ‘The members of this smaller coun-
cil may or may not be members of the
Kinoétis, being elected by groups of four
monasteries for a term of five years.
The parliament house of Karyés is not
a very imposing structure, but it makes a
picturesque group in the center of the
town, with the cathedral of the commu-
ON THE RIGHT IS THE GUEST HOUSE OF VATOPETHI:
According to Riley, whose book, “Athos the Mount of the Monks,” is an authority,
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
ATHOS, GREECE
MT.
more
than 250 tons of grapes are made into wine at the Vatopéthi Monastery annually, and each
monk and servant gets a daily allowance of wine.
nity and the square old tower beside it.
Far more imposing was the pretorian
guardsman, who stood at the gate. Four
of these, we later learned, are attached
to the service of parliament, while a
larger standing army of: 20 men, called
serdars, scour the lonely trails of the
peninsula.
THE ETIQUETTE OF THE TRAY
Having sent in our letter by the hand
of the white-kilted warrior, we presently
had the honor to “be received: by the
Council of Five, in a long, bare room al-
most entirely surrounded by a low divan.
Two of the councilors spoke French, it
appeared, which comforted us not a little
in discharging the formidable compli-
ments of the occasion. Then, while the
secretary prepared the circular, which we
were to have in exchange for our patri-
archal missive, one of the guardsmen ap-
OL
peared before us with a tray. Its be-
wildering multiplicity of spoons, saucers,
glasses, and refreshments presented well-
nigh insoluble problems. I am not sure
that we solved them with perfect cor-
rectness then; but since we never paid a
visit on Mt. Athos without meeting the
counterpart of that tray, | am now pre-
pared to expound its etiquette to any
prospective traveler in the Levant.
You choose a spoon; you dip it into a
jar of preserves; you put it into your
mouth and turn it gracefully over, in
order to lose nothing of its sweetness;
you drop it into a glass of water provided
for that purpose; you drink a little water
from another glass; you raise a third
glass, containing a heady liqueur, with as
handsome a speech to the company as
your knowledge of strange tongues will
devise; you drink—if you choose—more
water, and you end with a cup of Turk-
THE KITCHEN OF THE GUEST HOUSE AT
Covel,
who also seems to have made his pilgrimage during Lent, says
‘
“They gave us Limpets there thrice as big as oures in England, and yellow,
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
MT. ATHOS, GREECE
VATOPETHI:
of this kitchen:
all cover’d with
a fat yellow mosse, ae they eat either alone or with oyl.”
ish coffee, which you sip as noisily as
possible in order to express your appre-
ciation of it.
A WELL-SEALED INTRODUCTION
Upon this ceremony followed that of
sealing our circular. Each of four coun-
cilors produced a quarter of the seal,
while the fifth, the secretary, locked them
into a handle in his own possession. Our
letter was then formally stamped, the re-
sultant image of the Virgin was sanded
in the good “old w ay, and we were ready
to begin the more serious part of our
pilgrimage.
First, however, one of the French-
speaking councilors very courteously of-
fered to show us the sights of Karyés.
Chief among these was ‘the neighboring
cathedral, know non the peninsula as the
Protaton. It is a cruciform church of
the tenth or eleventh century, containing
a famous icon of the Virgin and deco-
rated with some of the most interesting
Byzantine frescoes that remain. Whether
they were or were not painted, as the
monks affirm, by the half-mythic Athon-
ite master, Pansélinos, who flourished at
the end of the fifteenth or the beginning
of the sixteenth century, it is not for me
to say. But they certainly preserve the
tradition of another time. A St. John
in particular, painted so high on the wall
that I could not photograph it properly,
recalls the noble Byzantine mosaics of
Cefalt.
Our venerable guide also took us to
visit the small monastery of Koutlou-
mousi, on the outskirts of Karyés, where
the problem of spoons and glasses was
again presented to us. And we encoun-
tered it a third time in the councilor’s
own konak, a big, bare, clean house com-
manding magnificent views of mountain
and sea. He furthermore insisted that
we should move our traps there from the
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
A VIEW OF VATOPETHI: MT. ATHOS, GREECE
Some idea of the extent of this monastery may be gathered from the statement that it
covers four acres, contains sixteen churches, large and small, and has so many buildings that
it resembles a fortified town.
rather grubby little establishment—half
shop, half inn—where we had deposited
them.
A LESS FORMAL SOCIETY
We were happy to accept the hospi-
tality of this kind and intelligent father,
who showed us many other courtesies
during the course of our pilgrimage, and
who interested me the more because he
happened to be an Albanian. But truth
compels me to add that I also returned
with pleasure, more than once, to that
same inn. Perhaps it was because our
pilgrimage fell in Lent, when monks fast
more strictly than laymen. Perhaps it
was because I have a leaning toward low
company.
At all events, quite as characteristic as
the more formal society to which our
letter introduced us, I found the society
at the inn, where shopkeepers, muleteers,
laborers from monastery farms, pilgrims
of the poorer sort, hermits, itinerant
monks, and other wanderers gathered
daily and nightly in the public room or
in the court of flower-pots and budding
vines behind it.
We had had interesting glimpses of
two or three monasteries and had become
acquainted with a number of their in-
mates; but it remained for us to have
our first real taste of monastic life at
Vatopéthi. I write the name _hesitat-
ingly, knowing that my choice of letters
will not please the more learned of my
readers. No monk, however, would have
any idea what ycu meant if you spoke of
Batopedion. I therefore persist in at-
tempting to convey the local pronuncia-
tion, which accents the penult and hard-
ens the th.
A MEMORABLE JOURNEY
Not the least memorable part of the
experience was the journey from Karyés,
which we performed by mule in some
three hours. The trail—for so narrow
ANIBHY (CHAO
“When the representatives finally dismounted from their gaily
caparisoned mules there was a universal embracin
kilted escort burned more powder.
text, page 267).
and stony a road was never meant for
wheels —led us almost all the way
through lonely woods that were just be-
ginning to be aware of spring, first slani-
ing up the steep backbone of the penin-
sula and giving us romantic views of the
ANgean and certain gray monastery tow-
ers at its edge; then winding down a long
amphitheatrical slope to the bay, where
Vatopéthi stood like a medieval castle.
Its distant air of grimness changed as
we came down through the olive yards
compassing it about. Windows pierced
the upper part of the massive stone walls
and high balconies leaned out on curved
bo
on
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
TOWER OF VATOPETHI: MT. ATHOS, GREECE
hen, as the
the court, the bells of the clock tower pealed their welcome” (see
wooden corbels. Sub-
stantial outbuildings
were scattered pictur-
esquely among trees,
their old slate roofs
tinged with yellow
lichen and tipped with
GEOSSES, Wine. gary
mountain water
flashed past us in or-
derly little stone ca-
nals. ‘The very mules
we met had an air of
muldness, well - being,
and dignified superi-
ority to their bony
brethren from Karyés,
which was not unnat-
ural of mules belong-
ing to one of the old-
est, largest, richest,
and most interesting
monasteries on Mt.
Athos.
Before the great
gate, on an irregular
stone bridge above a
noisy mill-race, stood
a cupola which shel-
ters an icon of the
Virgin. Here all who
pass in or out stop
and cross themselves ;
and here the gate-
keeper shook hands
with us, took our cir-
cular letter, and rever-
ently kissed its seal.
Then we were induct-
ed through a vaulted
passage guarded by
two more massive
gates into the interior court of the mon-
astery.
I could have spent the rest of the af-
ternoon in this wide irregular sloping
place, overlooked by open galleries, where
a domed church, a white bell-tower, and
sundry smaller buildings were set down
at random among orange and poplar
trees. But we were shown up an outside
stair, roofed with slate, to the guest-
house. The old gentleman in charge
thereof, in a rusty black gown and a
brown felt fool’s-cap, made us welcome
in his own room, served us the refresh-
ments of rigor, and finally took us to a
~
o
=>
while the white-
fathers entered
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
A CLOISTER AT VATOPETHI: MT. ATHOS, GREECE
“The cells of the monks are big, clean, bare apartments, furnished chiefly with endless
sofas.
spiritual sons” (see text, page 263).
wide marble corridor—with a delightful
balcony at the end—out of which opened
the guest-rooms of state.
EATING THE OCTOPUS
We owed it to the size and prosperity
of Vatopéthi that ours was furnished alla
franca. It contained, that is, two iron
beds arranged like sofas, a monumental
stove of brick and plaster, and an electric
bell. Toilet arrangements it had none,
these being situated in the hall outside
and consisting of a tap set over a small
marble basin without a stopper. The
room had, however, a very superior view
across a sluice of quick water, an orange
garden, and a collection of lichened
roofs, to the blue bay. And in it, shortly
after sundown, we were served to such
a meal as an orthodox monastery may
provide during Lent. We lived to learn,
sooner or later, how to thrive on snails.
This time, however, the piece of resist-
There they lead a sort of family life, each elder keeping house with one or more
ance was a stew of octopus. ‘That tooth-
some creature, being bloodless, escapes
the ban which bars out fish and flesh, not
to mention eggs, milk, butter, and oil.
We also had a vegetable soup, a mixture
of leeks and rice, salad, good black bread,
a heavenly compound of caviar, lemon,
parsley, and—can I believe that mere
elbow grease completed that Lenten sub-
stitute for butter ?—and more of the fa-
mous red wine of the peninsula than
we could drink. The old gentleman, the
two novices under him, and the cook
waited on us, always entering the room
without knocking. We found that to be
the general etiquette of Mt. Athos. The
monks built us a comfortable fire, they
smoked cigarettes with us after coffee,
they asked us wonderful questions about
our country, and they finally brought us
thick quilts with a sheet sewn to one side
of them, wherein to wrap ourselves for
the night.
259
“100P 9} JO Ifo] oY Ye—soyIYV FJ UO oresou
Jeinur jo ojdwexoe A[UO dy} JsOW[e Uses 9q O} SI ‘00} ‘Otaj~ “xXoYjIOU
oY} JO no suruado jodeyo e& UI polind o1e AtojseuUO ay} FO SJOpUNoO;
ueyjodourlipy oyy, “6&Z1 Ur parzojsat Aja}eunyJoyuN ynq ‘CIEI UT
poqured jst sooosaty YIM poyesrosep Ayotaydusroo st JOl41a}Ur s}y *AIN}UIS
YJUIAITI IO Y}Ud} 9Y} UL PoJoNIJSUOD JSIY SEM SUIPTING JUoIOUe SIT,
MWD “SOHLV “LIN
-THLAdOLVA WO HOWNHOD WAHL AO XHHIMON MANNII AHL
WSING “D “H Aq sydessojoyd
Yt Arlo
A ep
‘
‘oton40d Joyies ue
JE 910Joq pure ‘sseiq
TOWN “SOHLV
rn
=
, shomoipuy Aq usdArs sodyuy pojtopAoiquia
Suey LIayj41O\y IY} OJUL 9dUeIJUS dy} dIOJoq,, :s{es JOAOD
Us0q JALY JSNUI JVYM JO ureJIND AAvoYy Vv Ssuey
JO sajejd poAviIsud YIM PatOAOD St OOP oJ,
Y
“LA -IBLAdOLVA LV YOO HOVNHSD why
260
I spare the reader a
chronicle of our suc-
cessive risings up and
lyings down at Vato-
pethi. He may, how-
ever, be interested to
hear of the. way in
which they were regu-
lated. The first time
I became conscious, in
the watches of the
night, of that all-per-
vasive hammering, I
thought pirates must
be upon us, as in days
of old.
WHERE BELLS ARE
TABOO
Then I remembered
that Greek monks are
called to prayer in a
fashion of their own.
Bells are not regarded
with too much favor
in the Levant. The
fact that they are an
innovation borrowed,
albeit in the tenth cen-
tury, from schismatic
Venice makes the
orthodox doubt their
Ine rece
; 4
appeal, whilethe f§
Turks object to them /
even more strongly, §
lest they disturb wan-
dering spirits. For all
ordinary purposes the
monks use in their
stead a hanging
wooden plank, or
sometimes a smaller
metal bar, of which
the necessary concomitant is a stout mal-
let. The rhythmic echo of these instru-
ments is the most characteristic sound of
Mt. Athos, the voice, as it were, of its
loyalty to other times. ‘Twice a day, or
every eight hours during seasons of fast-
ing, it calls the monks to church.
And the stranger within their gates di-
vides his hours accordingly. His break-
fast is ready, if he is not, at the close of
the night service. Shall I add that we
were a little dismayed to be presented, in
lieu of this meal, with the inevitable tray ?
I must confess that I am not fond of a
201
IN THE CHURCH OF VATOPETHI:
ENN
os
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
MT. ATHOS, GREECE
In the rear is seen part of the richly carved and gilded screen
which in a Greek church divides the altar from the chancel.
large icon at the right 1s one of the more highly prized treasures
of the monastery, having been saved from the Church of St. Sophia
in Saloniki just before that city was first captured by the Turks.
The
beefsteak breakfast, and that I have no
scruple against a liqueur ; but I don’t care
for it the first thing in the morning, with
nothing to go with it but a spoonful of
jam and a thimbleful of black coffee.
We had to beg the astonished cook for
a bite of bread, and to lay in a secret
stock of chocolate from Karyés, in or-
der to keep us going till lunch. This
came early, either just before or just
after the morning service, while dinner
is always served at dark, to give the
fathers time for a nap before the night
office.
THE REFECTORY
OF VATOPETHI:
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
ATHOS, GREECE
MT.
The story of the founding of Vatopéthi is to the effect that on a voyage from Rome to
Constantinople the imperial trireme, having Arcadius, son of Theodosius, aboard, was caught
in a storm, in which
Vatopéthi, and there the |
Theodosius as a thank offering for his son’s
MUCH LIBERTY PERMITTED
For the rest, the ascetic life did not
strike us as being too severe at Vato-
péthi. The Eastern church contains no
such ey of religious orders as the
Western, all Greek monks saa the
canon of St. Basil. They have a choice
of two forms of government, however,
the cenobite and the idiorrhythmic (each
member permitted to regulate his own
manner of life). Mt. Athos is almost
equally divided between the two, and
Vatopéthi is one of the second. There is
no abbot, the government being in the
hands of two or three epitropi, annually
elected by the council of elders. The
goods of the monastery are owned in
common by the brothers, who live sepa-
rately, according to their tastes or means,
and are allowed considerable latitude in
Arcadius fell into the sea.
boy was found asleep under the trees.
rescue.
The next day the trireme made the bay “of
Vatopéthi was built by
their religious observances. The ceno-
bite monasteries, on the other hand, are
governed by a hegumen elected” fonplaties
who controls the policy and property of
the brothers. They occupy uniform cells,
take their meals in refectory, are disci-
plined for not attending offices, and other-
wise follow a more rigorous régime.
We took early occasion to pay our re-
spects to the epitropi, being received by
hose grave and reverend signors with
some state and asked questions not a
few. They were kind enough to express
the honor they felt in entertaining learned
strangers, telling us that they had lately
received with pleasure the visit of two
hundred French lords, who had stopped
at Vatopéthi in a white ship of their own.
When we said that six hundred Amer-
ican lords had recently visited Constan-
(or
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
ONE OF THE SACRED RELICS OF VATOPETHI: MT. ATHOS, GREECE
Vatopéthi is extremely rich in relics and church treasures of all kinds. One of the
most interesting of these is “a beautiful communion cup, of a reddish translucent stone.
supported by two gold dragons, which was the gift of the Emperor Manuel II Polzologus”’
(see text, page 264).
tinople in a black ship, the fathers were
filled with sorrow at having been passed
bya hat black tship.valas~ swall/never
cruise in the Levant again, for it was the
Arabic, of recent unhappy renown. We
also had opportunity, through the friend-
liness of the monks, to see how some
of them lived—in big, clean, bare apart-
ments, furnished chiefly with endless
sofas. There they lead a sort of family
life, each elder keeping house with one
or more spiritual sons—younger monks,
novices, and boys devoted by their fami-
lies to the monastic life—maintaining
them and sometimes even sending them
away to school.
HAD HE MOMENTS-OF REGRET?
We had the good fortune to become
especially well acquainted with two such
members of ‘families.’ One of them
was the assistant librarian, and the other
the keeper of the bema and of the prec-
ious furniture of the church. The latter
took the more trouble for us because he
had a brother in New York. Both peas-
ants by birth, for whom Mt. Athos prob-
ably represented a rise in the social and
intellectual scale, they had come as young
boys to Vatopéthi. The latter, in partic-
ular, made me wonder if he ever had
moments of regret. He was a powerful
young islander of the Marmora whom
one could more easily imagine in a uni-
form than in monastic skirts. But the
only trace of bitterness I found in him
was when he spoke of his lack of learn-
ing. Promised an education by his
father he had been’ kept. year vatter
year in the service of the church—I sus-
pected on account of his good looks and
good voice—until it was too late for him
to go to school.
Thanks to our acquaintance with this
very kind and intelligent monk, we were
free to prowl about the church at our
leisure. I might speculate with an air
of erudition—cribbed from French and
German Byzantinists—about the date of
this cruciform structure, the character of
its domes, the period of its frescoes, and
I know not how many other exact and
intricate points of archeology. For my-
self, however, I was rather pleased that
the fathers, always a little romantic about
their own chronicles, assured us that it
was reared by the emperor Theodosius
the Great, whose son Arcadius they al-
THE ARRIVAL,
FEAST OF THY
leged to have been shipwrecked as a boy
in their bay—some six hundred years be-
fore Vatapéthi was founded.
AND SPLENDOR OF
CHURCHES
DIGNITY
BYZANTINE
AEDES
And I took no less pleasure in the fres-
coes because the monks have a trick of
touching them up whenever they begin
to look rusty. The whole interior of the
church might have been painted by an
early Tuscan with a decorative sense and
a certain dark nobility that you do not
always see in Florence or Siena. These
frescoes, with the great carved and gilded
altar screen, the tessellated marble floor
unencumbered by se ats, the carved stalls,
the rich shrines. the innumerable icons,
the shining lamps and candelabra, repro-
duce more completely than can now be
seen elsewhere the dignity and splender
of a Byzantine church.
The illusion of the past is the more
perfect at Vatopéthi, because it contains
OF THE PARLIAMENT OF KARYES
ANNUNCIATION OF THE VIRGIN:
: Bieoeen by H. G. Dwight
AT VATOPETHI TO CELEBRATE THE
MT. ATHOS, GREECE
so many treasures identified with the
pious princes of the East. In the body
of the church are a throne inlaid with
ivory and a beautifully chased silver icon
of Andronicus II Palzeologus. Among
the smaller and more precious objects
preserved in the bema are a fragment of
the True Cross, set in gold and studded
with big pale stones, in an ancient gold
case, with engraved compartments for
the blood of saints, presented by that
King Lazar of the Serbs who was be-
headed in 1389 on the field of Kossova
by Sultan Mourad I, himself dying of a
dagger-thrust inflicted by a Serbian pris-
oner.
We were also shown a beautiful com-
munion cup, of a reddish translucent
stone, supported by two gold dragons,
which was the gift of the Emperor Man-
uel IT Paleeologus ; and two icons of ex-
ceedingly fine mosaic, in repoussé silver-
gilt frames, attributed to an imperial lady
of the name of Theodora. Since Vato-
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
THE FEAST OF THE ANNUNCIATION AT VATOPETHI. MONASTERY: MT. ATHOS, GREECE
A crowd of pilgrims, monks, and hermits from all parts of the peninsula attends this
feast.
Huge caldrons of rice and other food are prepared for them, and they are served in
the courtyard, seated in long rows on the flagstones.
péthi did not exist at the time the con-
sort of Justinian was passing through
her checkered career, those saintly ob-
jects perhaps came from the last of the
Macedonian dynasty, sister to that fa-
mous Empress Zoe, who, having spent
the greater part of 48 irreproachable
years as a nun, suddenly blossomed forth
on the throne into excesses that aston-
ished even Constantinople.
THE GIRDLE OF THI; VIRGIN
The relic which Vatopéthi cherishes
most tenderly is the girdle of the Virgin
Mary. Our friend, the assistant libra-
rian, gave us the entire history of it, from
its presentation by the Queen of Heaven
to doubting Thomas until its recovery
during the Greek revolution from a Eu-
ropean consul, to whom the Turks had
sold it. If the earlier stages of the story
are involved in some obscurity, the last
six or seven hundred years of it are un-
questionable. The girdle has now been
divided into three parts, one of which its
never allowed to leave Vatopéthi. It oc-
cupies a little domed chapel in the court-
yard. The other two parts often go out
on tour, especially when invited by the
faithful; and many are the miracles re-
ported to have been performed by them.
The assistant librarian himself had re-
cently returned from such a tour, when
he and an older monk traveled for nine
months in Thrace and Macedonia with
the sacred relic, bringing back some
14,000 frances for the monastery.
I fear I was profane enough to take a
deeper interest in certain other treasures
the assistant hbrarian showed us. These
were opened, on top of a tower at an
angle of the sea-facade, by an old libra-
rian with a beard so long and so white
that he might have walked out of a By-
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
THE SEA TOWER OF SIMOPETRA: MT. ATHOS, GREECE
The monastery to which this tower belongs is romantically situated on a crag a thousand
feet above the A*gean
zantine fresco. From the ceremony with
which this visit was invested and the
slowness with which the huge library key
turned in its wards, I seemed to gather
an impression only strengthened by sub-
sequent experiences. The librarian of
another monastery was also its repre-
sentative at Karyés, and he had to be
brought down from the capital by ex-
press mule before we could see his books.
ILLUMINATED MANUSCRIPTS BADLY
HANDLED
A third library was unlocked by three
several keys, whose holders had been
collected from as many points of the
compass. At a fourth monastery I asked
one of the presiding elders if they had
any illuminated manuscripts. He said
he did not know; he had never been into
the library. And we felt an air of mis-
trust about us whenever we asked to see
books. Sometimes we were not allowed
to touch them ourselves. It was the
more exasperating, because a dreadful
habit 1s almost universal on Mt. Athos
of turning rare vellum pages by pinching
them up between a licked, but not too
clean, thumb and forefinger.
Yet we saw holes enough cut in pages
where illuminations had been to realize
that the monks are not suspicious with-
out reason. Nor have all collectors, I
fear, been so scrupulous to make return
for the spoil they have carried away as
that spirited and human traveler, the
Hon. Robert Curzon, Jr., who visited the
Sacred Mount in 1837, bought a ship-
load of precious manuscripts, and in his
“Visits to Monasteries in the Levant”
wrote an account of his adventures that
I, for one, infinitely prefer to “Eothen.”
A MYSTIFYING MAP OF MACEDONIA
At Vatopéthi they luckily refused to
sell him anything. The consequence is
that they have today a very rich collec-
tion of medieval books. One of the most
ADSHs,
curious is a geography of the eleventh
century, after Strabo and Ptolemy, con-
taining the most extraordinary maps. I
photographed one of Macedonia, out of
which no human being could make head
or tail; and on top of it I carefully pro-
ceeded to photograph a beautifully illu-
minated liturgy of St. Basil.
We prolonged our stay at Vatopéthi,
at the kind instance of the monks, in
order to see a characteristic piece of
local color. ‘This was the féte day of the
monastery, which is dedicated to the An-
nunciation of the Virgin. The festival
was celebrated with the more enthusi-
asm, I fancy, because it happened to fall
in Lent. From all parts of the penin-
sula, and even from farther away, guests
gathered in honor of one of the chief
distractions of the Mt. Athos year.
The Parliament of Karyés, especially
invited, arrived in a body the day before
the féte. Their approach was heralded
by gunshots among the hills, at which
signal the elders of ‘the monastery assem-
bled at the gate. When the representa-
PORT OF LAVRA:
26
s
/
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
ECH
MT. ATHOS, GRE
tives finally dismounted from their gaily
caparisoned mules, there was a universal
embracing, while the white-kilted escort
burned more powder. ‘Then, as the fa-
thers entered the court, the bells of the
clock-tower pealed them welcome, and
they all went into the church for a brief
office.
The religious event of the occasion was
the vigil in the church, which began be-
fore sundown on the eve of the great
day. We found the two narthexes and
the nave packed with monks and peas-
ants, all standing, as the Greek custom is.
Six tall white guardsmen picturesquely
kept the transepts clear. We had the
honor to be shown to transept stalls,
among the higher clergy and invited
guests; but, although this honor con-
ferred the privilege of hanging by one’s
elbows from the high arms of one’s stall,
even of perching on a little shelf ad-
justed to the edge of a turned-up seat
which it is not etiquette to use, I must
confess that I weakly withdrew before
midnight.
“eIAR’T JO AJO|SVUOU JY} YIM poyeryze ‘sto
‘Ajoyseuowu e uodn JUopuod
AI¥D-POOM
pue siojured Jo pasodwood st ays
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‘SSOHLV “LIN
IH, JO HOWNHD WHY
TELL ONIN USAT OOS T
VIAA'TVSLOSAV YE
“KNOEHLNV ‘LS NOLLV
“OUT} Joplo yey}
JO Olor a[qe}IIoA Be oq [JoM AvUT YT pure ‘elIoyo[Ng ssoidmy oy} JO uoy
-di4sut ue siveq ‘apef JO yno yo AT[NyyNvoq ‘uorTeIYsH]IE siy} JO dno oy}
ynq ‘Aanjusd Y}UIe}INOF oY} O} YL oyNqIayWe speuue sJOURJOI ‘AINjUID
YIFY oy} ur opdourjueysuod) ul pousior OYM ‘eiOY [Ng ssoiduyy ULsa1 A,
94} 0} AtOJSeUOL STY} JO UOIWepUNOF oy} SOQIIOSe UOT}IPRAY [RIO’T
MOWUAID “SOHLV “LIN
>ONVLOdOUIX FO AMALSVNOW MILL OL, ONIONO'TLAE
dNO NOINOWIWOOS Wdvl V GNV @I0O9 NALVad NI GNNO ‘THtdSOD V
STILL, CHANTING AT
4 A.M.
My friend, the as-
sistant librarian, kind-
ly saw to it that I did
not miss the climax of
the ceremony. It was
strange, at 4. o'clock
in the morning, to
come out of the cool
starhght of the court
into the heat and press
and splendor of the
churchs- to, find the
good fathers chanting
on as I had left them,
as monks had chanted
Delonge sthemmy tors a
thousand years. The
responses passed from
transept to transept in
the antique Byzantine
monotone.
First at one lectern
and then at the other
a young deacon in-
toned from an illumi-
nated missal. His
pale, serious face and
the red clint in) the
hair waving about his
shoulders made me —*
think of a Giorgione.
Others, in magnificent me
brocades, swinging =~ 8. =.
censers, came and &
went. The officiating
bishop, an old man
bowed down by his
Photograph by H. G. Dwight
THE PHIATE OR FONT OF LAVRA: MT. ATHOS, GREECE
This beautiful and interesting church fountain stands in front
jeweled miter and his
cloth-of-gold vest-
ments, sat on a carved
and gilded _ throne,
holding an emerald
cross in one hand and
of the monastery Church of Lavra. The phiate was originally built
in 1060, although the brickwork of the present structure dates from
the sixteenth or seventeenth century. But the fountain itself and
the marble panels surrounding it are, no doubt, original. The foun-
tain built in Constantinople by Emperor William II, in commemora-
tion of his two visits to Sultan Abd-til-Hamid, was inspired by this
Byzantine design.
in the other a tall gold
crozier. And lights were everywhere—
in brass and silver candalabra, in a fan-
tastic silver tree bearing oranges of gold,
in votive lamps and chandeliers before
dim images, and in the great brass cor-
onal, with its double-headed eagles of
Byzantium, swinging from the central
dome.
The focus of the ceremony was an an-
cient icon of the Virgin. It stood on a
sort of easel draped with rich stuffs,
under a parasol of flowered white bro-
cade. As the office proceeded, the breast
of the figure was hung with old Byzantine
jewelry and strings of gold coins. Among
them I afterward saw a Roman stater,
two beautiful Alexanders, and any num-
ber of Venetian ducats and besants of
Constantinople.
BLESSING THE BARLEY CAKE
At sunrise the Virgin was divested of
her more precious finery and carried out
of the church under her parasol. “Pre=
2609
WSIMG 5) ‘PY Aq ydessojoyq
AOMAUD “SOMLV “LIN JO NUWAVT GNV SNNOW
ea SRE ee ee
ve
CHA UCIDECE ‘
Hea
Wa, teen
KS On |BIQXMt Athos
la A
Gulf of
Saloniki
Lay
gco™
pe
Samothrace
30 40 50
Statute Miles
255
OUTLINE MAP OF SALONIKI
ceded by banners and gilded lanterns on
staves, escorted by a motley retinue of
monks and peasants, she made the circuit
of the monastery, without the walls, while
the bells jingled and the bearded guards-
men shot off their pistols like boys into
the early sunlight. At the return of the
procession the liturgy was celebrated.
Picturesque details of it, peculiar to the
day, were the progress through the
church of twelve sacred relics, each borne
by a priest in gorgeous vestments, and the
bringing in by guardsmen and blessing of
two huge barley cakes frosted with sugar
and colored candies. Then those present,
in hierarchic order, crossed and _ pros-
trated themselves before the parasoled
icon, after which the communion was ad-
ministered, the barley cakes were cut, and
the vigil of the Annunciation, 15 hours
long, came to an end.
I did not wonder at the speed with
which the church emptied itself into the
refectory. This interesting cruciform
structure, frescoed like the church and
271
AND ADJACENT COUNTRIES
furnished with tables of one rough slab
of marble, is now used only on such occa-
sions. Guests of the humbler sort over-
flowed into the court, where they were
served in long rows on the flagstones.
The higher dignitaries soon withdrew to
the apartments of the epitropi. ‘They sat
down to a more elaborate banquet there
at nightfall. Fish of many kinds, pre-
pared in many ways, made up the chief
feature of the menu—an exception allow-
able on this one day of Lent. While the
black-gowned guests enjoved this respite
from the rigors of their long fast, they
were entertained by the more famous
choristers of the peninsula. After each
had displayed his proficiency in the By-
zantine chant, the Elders poured him out
a glass of wine and dropped a napoleon
into it.
I must not forget, however, the fair
that established itself at the monastery
gate, where the general effect of color
and costume was more notable than the
THE BEST PRESERVED GREEK TEMPLE IN THE WORLD
objects offered for sale. And there was
one more office in the church, to which I
fear I would not have gone if a kind
father had not hunted me up. The Vir-
gin under her parasol, the silver orange
tree, and other precious furniture had
disappeared. The afternoon sun streamed
through the high transept windows,
bringing out the pattern of the marble
floor, the rich carving of the altar screen,
details of the pictured walls.
THE NIGHT-LONG VIGIL/S END
It brought out, too, the faces of the
fathers under their black veils, worn and
haggard after the night-long vigil. Ata
moment of the office one Bee another
lighted a wax candle from that of his
to
lo
, THE THESEUM : ATHENS, GREECE
neighbor. ‘The two semicircles twinkled
pallidly enough at each other across the
sun-touched splendor of the church. The
incense, that had been so heady the night
before, somehow missed its effect, like the
candles. A swallow flashed across the
opposite window.
I thought of the green hill I had
climbed that afternoon, blossoming with
asphodel, and how the sea looked through
the leaning olive trees. I wondered what
the fathers thought, chanting so gravely
in the spring afternoon—if they, too, saw
hills, or seas, or faces other than haggard
ones under black monastic veils. With
the sound of their chant an unsanctified
crooning of pigeons suddenly began to
mingle from the court without.
VOL. XXX, No. 4
WASHINGTON
OCTOBER, 1916
THE
NATIONAL
GEOGRAPHIC
|_ MAGAZINE
INEXHAUSTIBLE ITALY
By ARTHUR STANLEY Riccs
AvutHor oF “THE BEAUTIES OF FRANCE,” IN THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
nowned for their beauty. We visit
them to satisfy our inherent love
for the picturesque. Some, again, are
famous as the scenes of great and stir-
ring events which have made history;
them we visit to stand enthralled in the
presence of the great spirits of old. Still
other parts attract us strongly because of
_the vivid kaleidoscope of their modern
_ life and customs.
But what shall we say of Italy, at once
exquisitely beautiful, glowing with life
and contemporaneous interest ; and, above
all, quick with the memory of: her glori-
ous past? One writes of her in despair
of giving more than a bald sketch of the
character and attributes that endear her
to all mankind. Richly—lavishly !—she
returns love for love, and they who most
tax her find her the most inexhaustible,
ever giving, ever repaying, with bound-
less interest, the affection of her children
of the entire world.
S OME parts of the world are re-
WE ARE ALL HER CHILDREN
The compulsion of Italy is based upon
the deep, pervasive humanity of soul she
shares with no other in degree and with
but few in kind. That humanity, with
its essential heights and depths of spirit-
uality and grossness, glows in the grand-
est art the world has ever seen and been
inspired by; it pulsates lustily in litera-
ture that to this day is the envy and de-
spair of mankind; it dominates us who
still live in the closing era of the Renais-
sance that only the splendid individualism
and genius of the lustrous Florentines
could make possible.
Italy is not of the Italians; she is of
the world. We are all her children, and
some of the most sublime lessons life has
to teach us have been learned of her wis-
dom and accumulated experience.
THE GEOGRAPHICAL POSITION OF ITALY
Indeed, in considering the great epochs
of civilization, we often overlook the fact
that more than half of them developed
in Italy. Classifying history, we find five
periods: the Culture of the Ancient East ;
Hellenic Civilization; the vast Roman
Organism ; the Domination of the Roman *
Catholic “Church and, last of alle the
“emancipation of Europe from medieval
influences” in what we usually speak of
as the Renaissance. In a word, there-
fore, we owe to Italy three of the five
periods—the three which have exercised
the world most potently in both practical
things and the things of the spirit.
Geographical position is not sufficiently
recognized, except by the special student,
in its influence upon the character and
achievements of a nation. ‘This is pecu-
liarly true in the case of Italy. A single
glance at the map (see page 360) discloses
its position as one of the chief sources of
the country’s individuality.
From the beginning Nature set Italy
apart. Every boundary is perfectly clear.
Photograph by A. W. Cutler
PEASANTS OF SOUTHERN ITALY
The donkey seizes
The historic seas enfold it to south, east,
and west. On the north the terrific Alps
sweep around in a great semicircle from
Mediterranean to Adriatic, closing the
circuit.
To be sure, from the time of Augustus
the boundary of each side of northern
Italy has been juggled, now to the east,
now to the west, by politics; but the
physical boundary is still definitely there
So thoroughly did the ancient chr oniclers
recognize these natural limits that long
before the name Italy had any political
significance or entity the writers applied
it to the country thus inclosed. The pen-
insula, with its tremendous Apennine
backbone, makes a huge boot which
thrusts out practically into the center of
the great Midland Sea.
Necessarily, t then, Italy was exposed to
attack and invasion from three sides. In-
deed, it was the invading, or rather colon-
izing, Greek who combined with the ab-
origine to form the population that
stocked the peninsula. Taken in a smaller
the opportunity to snatch a few moments’ slumber
way, geographical site or position exer-
cised no less distinct an effect upon some
of the foremost Italian cities; and in
shaping their affairs and men it also in-
fluenced the entire world.
NATURAL DIVISIONS OF THE COUNTRY
Italy is generally regarded as lying in
three parts—northern, central, and south-
ern. Nature has set no boundary between
central and southern Italy ; but from the
southernmost point of the Alps, at the
French frontier, the Apennines swing
across to the eastward, leaving in the arc
they cut a huge U-shaped basin, drained
by the river Po and its tributaries, open
to the Adriatic.
After forming this basin — northern
Italy—the Apennines sweep southward in
a rugged backbone which determines the
whole internal geography of the country
as definitely as the Alps do its outline
northward. The Apennines are not, how-
ever, merely a backbone, but a broad
mass with several minor ranges and
Photograph by Donald McLeish
“ON THE NORTH THE TERRIFIC ALPS SWEEP AROUND IN A GREAT SEMICIRCLE FROM
MEDITERRANEAN TO ADRIATIC, CLOSING THE CIRCUIT”
A pasture above Breuil, Italy. In the background, four miles distant, is the Dend d’Herens,
13,715 feet, an elevated outpost of the Swiss-Italian frontier.
Photograph by Donald McLeish
THE MATTERHORN, THE MOST WONDERFUL MOUNTAIN IN°THE ALPS, 14,785 FEET,
FROM THE FOREST OF BREUIL: ITALIAN SIDE
This formidable peak long remained unconquered. No less than eight attempts were
made by Mr. Whymper alone. The ninth was successful, but was marred by a terrible
catastrophe. While descending, soon after leaving the summit, Mr. Hadow, one of the party,
slipped, dragging four others with him. The remaining three were well placed and able to
save themselves by holding firmly to the rocks. The rope between them, however, broke,
and they saw their unfortunate comrades disappear over the edge, to fall a depth of one
mile to the glacier below. This was two generations ago. Now scarcely a summer day
passes in times of peace when a dozen mountaineers, men and women, do not reach its
summit.
ee
270
Photograph by Donald McLeish
THE GRIVOLA, ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL OF THE ITALIAN ALPS, 13,022 FEET,
FROM THE NORTH: TAKEN FROM THE PUNTA ROM, 10,250 FEET
SdO1D FO JULJIOTWI JSOU OY} 91e SUOUII] PUL Sa9SURIO JIM ‘SATO pue snyovd pu sted JuRTInxny sj1ods vAOUd®) Ip
RIDIATY OY} Poyf[ed ysvoo FO di1js ay} apy je] owes oy} AT[ENzALA UL JOA ‘sjsorZ divys puvISYJIM JOUULD Jey} MOIS [[IM SuTyJOU soulUUsdy 94} JO YON
SLVO@ ONIHSIA VUAIATY
soured “yz Aq ydeisojoyg
ee ee ee
INE IBU-MURS MOBO, IAL NS 279
groups of peaks, generally separated by
high upland valleys, one of whose pla-
teaux, the Piano di Cinque Miglia, at a
height of 4,298 feet above the sea, is the
wintriest and bleakest spot in all Italy.
This upland region is bordered every-
where by lowlands of luxuriantly fertile
character, prolific in fruit and verdure
and of a genially warm and sunny cli-
mate. In central Italy, west of the moun-
tains, the valleys of the Arno and Tiber—
the only streams of importance—give the
keynote to any geographical study of the
region. Over on the eastern coast no
rivers of importance can exist, because
the mountains there approach too close to
the sea, though the tortuous, mostly dry
beds of the torrenti scar every height.
In this connection it is interesting to
note that nowhere is the peninsula more
than 150 miles wide, and generally not
more than 100, while down in Calabria
the width dwindles in two places to 35 and
20 miles respectively. One of the most
inspiring views in the whole length of the
country also displays this narrowness
strikingly when, on a clear day, from the
Gran Sasso, the highest point in the bleak
Abruzzi Range, central Italy, at nearly
10,000 feet, one may look not only east-
ward over the Adriatic to far Dalmatia’s
rocky shores, but also westward over
mountain and moor, city and sandy coast,
to the dim and misty blue of the Tyrrhe-
nian Sea. In volcanic southern Italy,
likewise barren of any great waterways,
the Apennines break up into groups of
hills and peaks, not usually so lofty as
farther northward.
THE RIVERS AND LAKES
Italy is fairly provided with deep-water
seaports—Naples, Genoa, Spezia, the
naval base, and Leghorn, on the western
coast, and Venice, Ancona, and Brindisi,
on the east. The rivers—except the Po—
as may have been inferred already, are of
little or no importance for navigation—a
fact the Romans cleverly disposed of by
building those beautiful and enduring
military roads which to this day vein the
whole length and breadth of the coun-
try—though the rapidity of their currents
and the flashing, dashing cascades and
torrenti that come swirling into them
make them highly picturesque and de-
lightful as features of the landscape.
What human being with a single spark
of soul could fail to expand under the
magic of that wonderful chain of lakes
along her northern border—Garda, Idro,
Iseo, Como, Lugano, Maggiore, Orta?
These remarkable and exquisite sheets of
water, formed by the tributaries of one
single stream—the Po—sprawl about in
tremendously deep valleys among tower-
ing hills of solid rock, while scattered
among them are shallow little lakes, en-
tirely different in both character and
aspect.
Adjectives and imagination alike fail
before them, and inarticulate emotion
robs the beholder of any power of ex-
pression. And what of Trasimeno and
Chiusi? What of those littler lakes which
smile up at us from ashen, volcanic cups
throughout central and southern Italy?
What of Matese, Fusino, Lucrino,
Averno—all those many that dimple the
pages of history and brighten or glower
through the yet more ancient myth and
song of bard?
THE ISLES OF THE. WEST
Beside defining the limits of the coun-
try so clearly, Nature also bulwarked the
long and tortuous Italian peninsula on
the west with a host of rocky defenses in
the sapphire waters of the storied Tyrrhe-
hian Sea—Gorgona, of the suggestive
name; rocky Capraia; Elba, of Napole-
onic fame; the stony fleet of the little
Ponzas ; bold and rugged Ischia, with its
castle on a big boulder ; Procida likewise ;
humpbacked Capri, where “that hairy old
goat,” as Suetonius called the Emperor
Tiberius, held his revels; the A*olian or
Lipari Isles, black monsters that spout
fire and sing weird music to terrify the
superstitious argonaut ; magnificent Sar-
dinia, with its little sister Corsica clinging
to its coat-tails a step behind. Both be-
long to Italy by every right of Nature—
as a bright lad in a Sicilian school told
me: “Sardegna, si/ But Corsica—no!
She belongs to Italy geographically, but
politically to France,” And the greatest
of all these outworks is Sicily.
A MACARONI FACTORY
Italy without ma
special variety of hard wheat.
brings it out in long strings.
in the open air to dry,
collected sufficient of both to make it nicely
and sold.
SICILY, THI GARDEN OF EDEN
Geographical location was the deciding
factor of the life of this loveliest of all
Mediterranean islands. Here we have
neither time nor place for Sicily beyond
the merest hint of a long series of vivid
pictures, which begin with the misty tra-
ditions of the Garden of Eden and carry
us through the evolution of civilization
right to the present. Every State of an-
cient Europe falls into a place in the en-
during pageant. Greek and Roman, Car-
thaginian and swart Moor, Spaniard and
French and Italian fight and retreat, build
and demolish, create and undermine.
Nature itself, now in the guise of the
misunderstood gods of old, now in con-
vulsions or in quiet fertility that science
has made plain to us, weaves its mysteri-
ous shuttle through and through the
caroni would be Hamlet without the ghost.
The paste is forced through a press full of holes,
These are cut into about six-foot lengths and hung on poles
with a nonchalant disregard for germs and dust.
stiff it is cut into commercial lengths, boxed,
Macaroni is made of a
which
By the time it has
highly colored fabric. And men—such
men !—tower above their fellows in the
story like Titans: Pindar, A‘schylus,
Theocritus, Thucydides, Archimedes, the
two great Hierons, Cicero, Verres, Dio-
dorus, Hamilcar and Hannibal, Roger the
Count and Roger the King, Belisarius,
the great Crusaders—Richard of the Lion
Heart and Louis the Saint of France—
Charles of Anjou, Frederick II, the
“Wonder of the World,” and Garibaldi.
Even this partial list reads like a com-
pendium of ancient and medieval romance
and chivalry.
Sicily’s history is as vivid and pictur-
esque, as ferocious and creative and de-
ee as mythical and intensely prac-
cal, as the stories of all the rest of the
W ae put together. And in beauty of
nature, of climate, of man, and of beast,
the island is a paradise today, whether or
THE LAND OF THE MACARONI-EATERS: NAPLES
“Maccheroni”
cries of the beggar is,
nickel for macaroni!”
fame! Oh, I’m dying of hunger.”
not it was ever the workless, painless,
passionless elysium where our first an-
cestors enjoyed all the good things of life
without having to toil. All this, alas, must
wait a more opportune moment for de-
scription.
CLIMATE AND VEGETATION
As in the case of Japan, the surround-
ing sea makes a vast difference in the
Italian climate. Judged by its position
alone, the peninsula should be about the
hottest part of Europe—it is only 90 miles
from the southern shore of Sicily to
Africa. But the twin seas and the ever
snow-capped mountains temper the heat,
and the regional peculiarities are such
that we find Turin, for instance, colder in
eating is a trade with the street begg
to men and boys gifted with copper interiors immune to heat.
“Signore, dame cinque soldi, mangia maccheroni!
And usually the plea ends with a lugubrious whine, “Oh, muori di
281
ar, and apparently a satisfying one
One of the most familiar
Mister, gimme a
winter than Copenhagen, and Milan as
warm in summer as Naples. These same
striking differences characterize the vege-
tation also. North of the Apennines
nothing will grow that cannot withstand
sharp frosts, yet in virtually the same lati-
tude the strip of coast called the Riviera
di Genova sports luxuriant palms and
cactus and olives, while oranges and
lemons are the most important of crops.
A large part of the beauty of the ver-
dure and forest that attracts the visitor’s
attention was unknown in the olden times
and is not properly Italian at all, but im-
ported. The favored groves of orange
and lemon, with their golden fruit elint-
ing among the rich and sappy foliage,
breathe of the Levant and the dark-
QOVTIIA NIVINOQOW NVITIVII NV JO SAO !ONIMANA AHTHOSIWN
oer eget
sail i
A SMALL PAINTED VEGETABLE CART DRAWN BY A SARDINIAN DONKEY:
AOWAaweg Qe
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Photograph by A. W. Cutler
PALERMO
When the size of the donkey is compared with the height of the man and the boy, some idea
may be formed of its diminutiveness
skinned Saracenic invaders from the
East. The cactus, with its prickly pear
fruit, called the “Indian fig,” and the aloe
came straight from Mexico on the heels
of the Spanish adventurings into the un-
known in the sixteenth century. So did
the American corn or maize. Even the
eucalyptus is an importation—a modern
one—and the great groves of chestnuts
that clothe the shaggy mountain sides so
verdantly, and give occupation to so many
vendors of the hot and pasty boiled nut,
are believed not to be native.
Fvergreens still form a large propor-
tion of the foliage and make a great dif-
ference in the appearance of the winter
landscape, which conspicuously lacks the
nakedness of regions clothed only with
deciduous growths. The brown slopes of
the mountains, the milky roads that wind
and wind through rolling upland and
flat campagna, or around the startlingly
abrupt shoulders of mountains, and the
sparkle of stream or lake or inlet, give
the Italian country side a vivacity and
charm lacking in both its Latin neigh-
bors—a special quality of brightness and
life.
THE PEOPLE AND THEIR CONDITION
Province by province the country mani-
fests a varying charm, and the people
differ as widely as their surroundings.
The hot-blooded southerner observes a
different standard of morals and hygiene,
fires to anger or interest more quickly,
and is generally less dependable and in-
dustrious than his northern brother.
Both are gifted with the black eyes and
hair and the swarthy complexion, as a
race, that is a general characteristic of
the Latin peoples. But the Italian is,
broadly speaking, like his country, en-
dowed with a physical beauty and charm
beyond that of most of his fellows.
In the north, however, there are excep-
tions—fair-haired and reddish men and
women, who seem strangely out of place
283
284
among their dark neighbors. Cool, tem-
perate exotics they are among the higher
colored growths that somehow seem so
tropical, with their sultry smiles and fath-
omless, mysterious eyes, in which forever
broods the shadow of the purple moun-
tains that always and everywhere domi-
nate all Italy, even to the delightful Cara-
binieri, or Rural Guards, those Napole-
onic-looking officials who parade always
solemnly in pairs, hangers at their sides,
cockades on their black beavers, the maj-
esty of the law in every line and footstep.
A TALE OF REMARKABLE PROGRESS
Suggestive of comic opera though the
Carabinieri seem, they are nevertheless
most devoted fellows and absolutely es-
sential to the maintenance of order. The
condition of the mass of the Italian peo-
ple is still far from happy and disorders
are frequent, though rarely fatal when
the paired guards are within range. Italy,
it must not be forgotten, is largely an ag-
ricultural country, with the farm hands
making up a third of the total population.
Their lot is hard because of the agricul-
tural conditions and the ignorance of the
masses.
Nevertheless, since the Italians became
a nation, half a century ago, there has
been amazing progress in every direction.
Agricultural methods have vastly im-
proved, agricultural production doubled,
and manufacturing to a most gratifying
extent taken the place of importation. In
fact, Italy is now among the exporting
nations, and the rapid growth of her in-
dustrial enterprises bids fair to make her,
as an English writer points out, as highly
organized and efficient, in a manufactur-
ing sense, as was Belgium prior to Igr4.
Italian emigration is due largely to
overpopulation, and the consequent over-
supply of labor at very low rates, rather
than to the agricultural conditions, while
the progress made in public education has
been so wonderful as to give sound basis
for the hope that within a reasonable
time illiteracy will be as negligible in Italy
as it is in the United States. Public
schools maintained by the communes,
with State help where necessary, have
already diminished illiteracy from 73 per
cent in 1871 to about 44 per cent in I9QII
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
(the last official census). Despite the
brilliant progress achieved in only forty
years, this figure is appalling.
Notwithstanding, the poorest Italian
has the sun in his eyes and the geniality
of the gods in his smile, while his fatal-
istic stoicism and keen sense of humor
are something never to be forgotten. [
remember, after the Vesuvian eruption
of 1906, seeing a man whose home had
been destroyed and the work of a life-
time obliterated calmly cooking a meal of
potatoes and chestnuts over a hot spot in
the lava stream that had overwhelmed his
place. “Gia! I have a fine stove now!”
was his dry comment.
THE BEGINNINGS OF ITALY
So far as general world interest is con-
cerned, the story of Italy begins its im-
portance with the period made historic
by the advent of the Greeks in the vici-
nage of what is now Naples. This was
a neighborhood doomed at the very be-
ginning to be fatal to every race that
spread about the shores of its exquisite
bay. The beauty of the scenery, with the
vast black and green Vesuvius gemming
it ominously ; the mild and sunny climate
of dolce far mente; the soft and per-
fumed airs, all strongly predisposed the
sternest men to languor and voluptuous-
ness. Not a single one of the nations
who have left us memories of their so-
journs about the dimpling bay could with-
stand these lethal influences, or became
sufficiently acclimated in all the long cen-
turies to leave us one great and enduring
monument.
To find “the glory that was Greece,”
one must go southward for 60 miles along
the scalloped green and silver strand that
borders the azure sea to Pzstum, the
Poseidonia of Greek days. The same
dazzling sunshine the worshipers of Po-
seidon, or Neptune, Knew pours down its
glorious flood upon temple ruins so ma-
jestic and sublime, so quick with the
austere loftiness of soul that marked their
builders, we wonder that anything ever
could have happened to obliterate the city
which Herodotus tells us flourished five
centuries and a half before our era be-
gan; a garden city, a city still, in the time
of the great Latin poets, wreathed and
Photograph by A. W. Cutler
NAPLES
A RISING FRUIT MERCHANT OF
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garlanded with the “twice-blooming roses
of Peestum.”
But brooding silence has fallen over
these magnificent Doric remains and their
flattened city. We may study undisturbed
the subtle refirements the architects
adopted to give grace and elegance to
structures of so heavy a type: the swell
and slant of the massive fluted columns,
the curving line of foundation and entab-
lature, the perfect coherence and sim-
plicity that has made the Greek form the
only one perfect in appearance without
regard to size.
Even the hardy Roman who met and
imbibed the softer culture of the polished
Greek in southern Italy here went to
pieces mentally and gave history only
Lucullian feasts and sybaritic indulgence
of every sort. The most lavish and pro-
fligate of all the watering places of im-
perial days grew up at Baiz, named for
Ulysses’ helmsman, to the west of Naples,
along the Gulf of Pozzuoli. No beauty,
convenience, or luxury the Roman world
could produce to give the region added
charm was lacking. The foundations of
many of the magnificent villas and baths
were thrown far out into the warm, in-
viting bay.
THE CRUMBLED GLORIES OF BALA
But with the decline of Rome, Baize
and its district crumbled ; and all we have
today as means for the interpretation of
that gay and splendid era are shattered
remains of masonry, colonnades, passage-
ways, mosaic pavements, and statuary
dotting the hillsides; and in the water
huge blocks of concrete vaguely tracing
the lines of those baths where the gilded
youth and corrupt old age of Rome idled
away the sunny hours and occupied their
minds with the devising of new sorts of
indulgence.
One of the ancient Roman towns near
by is still very much alive—Pozzuoli.
Founded by the Greeks, it was captured
by the Romans, and at one time was the
most important commercial city in the
Empire. Its harbor was a focus of traffic
with Egypt and the East. Spices and
perfumes from the Nile, copper and gold
from Tarshish (Spain), slaves and weap-
ons and other commodities in popular
287
demand landed here. And St. Paul, in
those comfortable, letter-like chapters of
the Acts, that describe his adventures on
the way up to Rome and martyrdom,
says: “And we came the next day to
Puteoli, where we found brethren and
were desired to tarry with them seven
days.’ The modern town is an attractive
manufacturing community, much of its
prosperity based on the cement made of
the puzzolana, or volcanic earth, named
atter it.
“NAPOLI LA BELLA!”
Naples, aside from its amazing local
beauty, is a dirty south Italian seaport,
full of fleas and beggars, noisy as pande-
monium day and night, without a really
distinguished edifice, and peopled by a
conglomerate mass as strikingly beautiful
physically as they are notoriously untrust-
worthy. From the storied heights that
sweep in a magnificent amphitheater
around the brilliant bay the old city strag-
gles downward in a picturesque huddle of
densely packed houses and other build-
ings, tortuous streets full of color and
bubbling with the nervous activity of the
south, black canyons of stone stairs, slip-
pery with damp and dirt, across which
the teeming houses gossip and quarrel in
neighborly wise.
Nowhere are fisherfolk more pictur-
esque in habit and costume; nowhere is
there so salty a dialect, spiced with such
myriad quaint and startling phrases and
exclamations. Bare and brown of leg,
dressed in ragged, parti-colored motley, a
stout canvas band about each sinewy body
for hauling in the net without cutting the
hands to pieces, they bring ashore their
shimmering silver quarry right along the
widest, finest promenade in the city—the
handsome Via Caracciolo. Across that
broad street the charming Villa Nazion-
ale, not a house, but a public park, wholly
conventional in design, contains an aqua-
rium which may fairly be considered the
most remarkable in the world for both the
variety and interest of its finny and mon-
strous exhibits and the thoroughness of
its scientific work. To it many of the
great universities of the world contribute
annually for the privilege of sending spe-
cial investigators in zoology.
During the afternoon drive, which is
an. institution throughout all Italy, an
endless procession flashes past the park,
to the pistoling of whips, the running ob-
ligato of chatter and exclamation, shout
of encouragement, and execration for
careless driving. Everybody drives. The
lofty drag of their Royal Highnesses the
Duke and Duchess of Aosta rolls sol-
emnly along behind magnificent bays in
stately silence ; tourists “rubber” by in
hired hacks ; a motley array of shabby-
genteel carriages contains a nobility too
proud to omit the drive if they have to
go to bed supperiess, and snappy little
gigs and carts, brilliant with paint and
varnish, dance along behind fiery minia-
ture barbs decked out in all the toggery of
feathers and bells and fancy leather that
Italian ingenuity can suggest. Nowhere
are there such experts at extracting
frightful explosions from a whiplash as
in this happy-go-lucky Naples ; nowhere
such a tumult of sound and color; no-
where such light-hearted irresponsibility.
Peery ie IN. Ww. Cutler
BUT ONE THOUGHT FILLS THE MIND OF HALF THE MOTHERS AND CHILDREN IN THE
WORLD—TO MAKE SOMETHING THAT WILL KEEP FATHER AND
BROTHER WARM IN THE TRENCHES
The commercial activity of this largest
city and second seaport of Italy clings
close about the skirts of the enormous
royal palace—8oo feet long on the bay
side and 95 feet high—and the naval
basin and dockyard. Every smell and
sound of a thriving seaport may be smelt
and heard, multiplied generously ; every
flag seen on the ships that ride at anchor
near the stone wharves.
BABEL LESS CONFUSED
On the streets men of every race min-
gle tongues and costumes and manners;
Babel itself was only mildly confused
compared with this jumble of Naples;
and throughout all the throng play the
beggar, the’ street musician, thee macaroni-
eater—that is a trade, and a satisfying
one, apparently—the piratic cabman, the
guide, and the baggage- smasher—all seek-
ing whom they may plunder with a gra-
cious twinkle of humid black eyes and a
smile that makes the being robbed a
pleasure.
Photograph by Von Gloeden
CLASSIC MODELS IN MODERN SICILY
The present-day descendants of the early Greek colonists of Syracuse retain the grace
of pose and the symmetry of form which distinguished their ancestors of two thousand years
ago. Here is a youth who might have been the original for one of the matchless marbles of
Praxiteles or for a figure in a Phidian frieze.
289
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INEXHAUSTIBLE ITALY
Street singing is an especially Neapoli-
tan institution, and when for the first
time one hears beneath his windows the
more often than not off-key versions of
the snappy, lilting, inexpressibly infec-
tious Neapolitan songs, he is enchanted,
and throws pennies freely. After a week
or so of it as a steady diet, day and night,
he inclines much more toward heavy
crockery !
VOLCANOES BIG AND LITTLE
The entire Neapolitan littoral is vol-
canic, from Vesuvius on the east to the
storied tufa heights of Cumz on the
west. Between Cume’s ruins and
Naples lie those famed and mystic Phleg-
rean fields of our school days, which
nobody remembers anything about. They
have always been a theater of tremendous
voleanic activity, but the disturbances
here have no connection, curiously
enough, with Vesuvius; also, the two
areas are wholly different in geological
character and formation.
The spongy nature of the rock of the
Phlegrzan fields allowed the internal
steam and gases to escape with relatively
little resistance at numerous points; so,
instead of one tremendous peak being
formed, as in the case of Vesuvius, many
little craters wart the ground. ‘Thirteen
still exist, among them Solfatara, bellow-
ing out a vaporous combination of sul-
phur, hydrogen, and steam, and produc-
ing startling little special eruptions when
teased with a lighted stick ; dried-up Lake
Agnano, with its famous, or infamous!
“Dog Grotto,’ where about 18 inches of
warm, bluish, foetid carbonic acid gas
snuffs out torches even more quickly than
it used to the poor dogs kept there for
show purposes; and somber Lake Aver-
nus, in ancient times surrounded by dense
forests and dark traditions, one of which
declared no bird could fly across it be-
cause of its poisonous exhalations.
VESUVIUS: DESTROYER AND RENOVATOR
The Cumzan Sybil was supposed to in-
habit a gloomy cavern in the south bank.
Her room and others in the rock are
probably part of the remarkable harbor
works built by the Emperor Augustus.
In this same region is the Monte Nuovo,
291
455 feet high, thrown up in three days in
1538.
On the east Vesuvius dominates the
whole splendid region. He is the Cyclops
standing, blind and massive and treacher-
ous, in the midst of his rich vineyards,
olive groves, and vegetable gardens; for,
though he spreads destruction in his blind
rages, the fact is that this entire piana is
the marvelously fertile soil that disinte-
grated lava and volcanic ashes make. It
bears huge crops, far greater and finer
than ordinary good soil can produce.
Among other things, it yields the grapes
whose spicy juices are so precious their
wine is termed Lacrima Cristi—Tears of
Christ. Is it any wonder that the native
returns again and again to repair the
damage and risk his life to produce such
wine and olives and fruit ?
BURIED HERCULANEUM AND POMPEII
After the great eruption of A. D. 79
there were occasional eruptions which
varied in intensity, until 1500, when the
volcano became quiescent. The crater
walls grew up thick with trees and scrub,
while cattle and wild boars roamed the
grassy plain inside—all but an ominous
lower level of ashes and pools of hot,
gaseous water. Then, in December of
1631, the whole interior was blown vio-
lently out, and 18,000 people are said to
have perished. Since then Vesuvius has
never been entirely quiet. During the
eruption of 1906 the column of smoke
and ashes rose to a height of about two
miles, and some of the ashes were car-
ried as far as observatories in France and
Switzerland.*
It was horrible hot mud that over-
whelmed fashionable Herculaneum in 79,
belched from the crater as torrents of
steam, boiling water, and scorie. It
raised the level of the entire countryside
65 feet, filled up the harbor, and wiped
out practically all the townsfolk. The
elder Pliny, who commanded the Roman
squadron in the roadstead, went to his
death near Stabiz, like the gallant sailor
he was, trying to assist some hapless ref-
ugees.
Herculaneum is more a misty memory
than anything else, for the mud turned
*See article by Thomas A. Jaggar, Jr., in the
NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE, June, 1906.
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into solid stone and made excavations
almost impossible. The town is a rich
and tempting bait to the archeologists,
however, for from a single one of the
ruins came most of those exquisite
bronzes in the Naples Museum, and 3,000
rolls of papyrus, part of the owner’s pri-
vate library.
What a contrast is Pompeii, destroyed
at the same time, but by ashes! ‘Though
these gradually hardened into something
like cement, they are much more easily
removed than the stone at Herculaneum,
and most of what we know of the details
of ancient Latin life we have learned
from the stark, scarred, roofless lower
stories spread out before us in deathly
panorama within the old city walls. Six-
teen years before the eruption Pompeii
was badly damaged by an earthquake and
practically rebuilt in the new Roman
style, the town laid out four-square, with
streets crossing at right angles.
Architecturally, therefore, Pompeii
represents one definite epoch of antiquity.
It had the usual Roman forum, with its
temples, baths, colonnades, etc.; but far
greater interest attaches to the private
houses and shops because of the intimate
knowledge they give us of the domestic
life of an ancient people.
UNCHANGING COMMERCE
We see their bakeries, in whose ovens
quantities of bread were discovered;
their wine shops, with casks labeled as
holding different qualities—all connected
by one pipe; a bank, with its waxen rec-
ords of loans, receipts, and the like;
shops of dyers, jewelers, sporting-goods
dealers, potters, and so on indefinitely.
Spirited frescoes decorate stuccoed walls,
intricate mosaics make handsome pave-
ments, and houses and courts yield up
statuettes, images, jewelry, and all the
impedimenta of a rich and varied culture.
And in the little museum, inside the old
Sea Gate, we see even casts of the bodies
of the luckless inhabitants as they were
found, after eighteen centuries of ashen
interment.
Where the pretty little modern water-
ing place of Castellammare di Stabia,
with its cooling sea baths and strong min-
eral waters, lies snugly in a little bight
293
on the neck of the Sorrentine peninsula,
Stabize once stood. It is one of the very
loveliest parts of Italy, a region of tum-
bled hills clothed with luxuriant groves
of orange and lemon, whose golden fruit
adds luster to the gleaming foliage. En-
ticing roads of milky white wind and
wind, now between high-walled grove and
vineyard ; now along open, skyey heights,
with the blue sea as a background hun-
dreds of feet below, and the beetling cliff
rising straight behind; now beside villa
gardens, where every brilliant color on
Nature’s palette seems to have been
poured out with prodigal fullness.
_ The air is perfumed, the skies are soft
and balmy, the roads superb.
BEAUTIFUL CAPRI
Capri, a great, twin-humped camel of
an island, kneels in the blue just off the
tip of the peninsula. From the sway-
backed huddle of white, pink, blue, cream,
and drab houses along the large harbor,
up the breakneck road to the fascinating
town nestling among the hills, white-
roofed and Moorish, and on, still higher,
by the winding road or up the nearly per-
pendicular flights of rock stairs, which
furrow the frowning crag with their
sharp, zigzag outlines, to Anacapri, 500
feet or so above, every step of the way
breathes the pride and splendor and deg-
radation of the island’s greater days.
Here a cyclopean mass of shattered
masonry in the warm emerald water
tells of a Roman emperor’s bath; yonder
on a chimney-like cliff the sinister ruins
of a stout castle keep whispers of ancient
garrisons and pirates, not armed with
automatic rifles or high-powered artill-
ery; and here, overlooking the sea, the
vast ruins of a villa recall “that hairy
old goat” Tiberius and his wastrel vol-
uptuousness that turned fair Capri into
satyrdom.
Capri today is richly dowered for
-sightseer, artist, historian, antiquary, and
geologist. On every hand are shaded
walks and sequestered bowers in the
thick groves of orange and lemon, laurel
and myrtle; wild backgrounds of tumbled
rock; titanic rifts in the coast, into which
the sea has thrust long, insidious blue
fingers.
AMALFI, FROM THE CONVENT OF THE CAPUCHINS
Few cities of Italy have more frequently taxed the descriptive vocabularies of artists
and travelers than Amalfi. Yet this gem among seaside resorts remains undescribed, for its
beauty 1s indescribable (see page 206).
204
Photograph by Von Gloeden
SICILIAN FISHERFOLK
The deep-sea fisheries of Sicily afford a livelihood for more than 20,000 natives of that
historic island. These hardy seamen in their sturdy smacks oftentimes cross the Mediter-
ranean to let down their nets in the waters off the North African shore.
The tunny fish
alone yields an annual revenue of more than half a million dollars.
From high in air to below the water-
line the island is scarred and pitted with
myriad vast pock-marks, some pillared
with stalactites and stalagmites, some
through which the never-quiet sea moans
and sobs with the agonized wail of an
hurt monster ; one white, with little pools
of pure, sweet water on its floor, only a
few inches above the sea; one greener
than emerald; one blue as heaven, with
row upon row of delicate pink corals and
tiny scarlet jelly-fish studding the water-
line like jewels, while the refraction of the
sunlight tints everything with the most
marvelously diaphanous color, through
which the silvery ripples of the bottom
sand, about 40 feet below, seem within
arm’s length.
Driving up over the crest of the Sor-
rentine peninsula, the Siren Islands loom
in the distance, too far away for even the
echo of the charmers’ song to be heard.
At Positano the road divides into two
white ribbons, binding the town to the
green hillside. Farther along great holly-
hocks burn in somber flame beside the
road, and the tallest olives imaginable
crane their necks upward from the sea-
side of the drive to watch what is passing
on the King’s Highway.
On by the caves of troglodytes, who
have all the comforts of home—little
patches of garden, amiable goats, olive
groves, and grape-arbors—the road
winds in and out, up and down the stern
face of the cliffs, rising and sinking in
great billowy sweeps, plunging hastily
through short, black tunnels, racing
around big and little bends. Now it
skirts the shoulder of a cliff, with only an
18-inch wall between the wheels and the
boulders hundreds of feet below.
Furore flashes up at one like a rainbow
as he dashes, blinking, out of an inky
little tunnel upon a soaring viaduct in the
blinding sunshine. A little group of fish-
ermen’s houses, clinging to the bare
rock—huge gray cliffs beetling up be-
295
296
hind—a tiny strip of gleaming beach, and
gaily painted fishing boats beside the
dazzling emerald sea—that is Furore!
Almost before the details can be grasped
one is swallowed up by another inky
little tunnel.
Picturesque watch-towers stud the
shore, ancient defenses against the Bar-
bary corsairs. And then presently Amalfi,
once the brave little maritime republic
that maintained its independence so long
in defiance of princes and emperors. In
a low cleft of the hills the houses fairly
pile upon one another, as though there
were not room for them all on the hill-
side. Back on the mist-veiled crags loom
other towns, and all day long, down the
road that winds dizzily among the peaks,
come old women and young girls, stag-
gering under heavy loads of fagots gath-
ered in the woods above the clouds. And
when they are not carrying fagots they
are always knitting—even when there is
no war!+—on the streets, in shops, gar-
dens, fishing boats on the beach, gossip-
ing by the fountain before the long stair
that leads to the stately black and white
and mosaic Cathedral of St. Andrew.
DESERTED HARBOR OF MIGHTIER DAYS
On the road goes, through Atrani of
the gloomy arches over the sea beach,
past Minore (the Little), where bare-
legged fishwives in bright, tucked-up
skirts help their men to haul home the
nets; around the brilliant lemon gardens
of Maiore (the Big) ; to and through the
towns of Raito and Vietri, before reach-
ing Salerno, where, clinging stubbornly
to the hillsides like limpets, the houses
rise from the rock between sea and sky,
some of them standing half upon the hill
and half upon tall buttresses that reach
down to the harbor sands.
It was Salerno, the deserted harbor
of mightier days, that forty Norman
gentles, returning from the Holy Sepul-
cher in Jerusalem, “‘simply for the love
of God” delivered from its Saracen be-
siegers. Later these gentlemen adventur-
ers came back, simply for the love of the
beautiful country, and with naught but
their keen two-handed swords and their
manhood hewed out a brilliant kingdom
for themselves. One of them, Robert the
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
Shrewd, built the gaunt eleventh century
cathedral, whose two magnificent am-
bones, or reading desks, of snowy marble,
richly embellished with Cosmato mosaics,
stand forth like jewels in the barrenness
of the badly restored, whitewashed, rail-
road-station-like interior.
OTHER GEMS OF SOUTHERN ITALY
Reggio the lovely, overlooking the
Straits of Messina, thrown into a heap of
ruins by the earthquake of 1908; Palmi
of the superb old olive groves and or-
angeries, with its feet on the slopes of
Monte Elia and its sunny face looking
away over the sparkling Tyrrhenian Sea
toward peevish Stromboli; Catanzaro,
fat and rich and important, given to
displaying its beautiful Calabrian cos-
tumes of a pleasant Sunday for all the
world to admire; Taranto, a carnelian
gem set between the two blue seas—the
gulf on the west and its own magnificent
naval harbor, the Little Sea, on the east—
a quaint, out-of-time town, whose nar-
row, Swarming streets of insignificant
little houses clamber up the splendid
rocky islet, once the citadel of ancient
Tarentum; Brindisi, Tarentum’s colony,
famous from antiquity to the days when
the Crusaders’ fleets lay in its harbor, and
today a quiet, orderly, busy railway and
steamship terminal, and Bari, with a
picturesque castle and park and _ its
rugged little peninsula, all neatly car-
pentered into prosaic regularity down
one side—these and scores of others are
but some of the facets of the exquisite
jewel of southern Italy, which glows and
flashes with a different luster for every
one.
CENTRAL ITALY AND ROME
Yet with all its charm and beauty and
romance, southern Italy has never forced
ahead the progress of the world. Central
Italy has. That whole vast historic re-
gion has taken a part in world history
that achievements of the future can nei-
ther dim nor lessen. In some definite and
lasting way practically every phase of the
life of central Italy has influenced the
world for progress—religious, political,
scientific, intellectual, humanitarian. The
most vital forces that actuate our twen-
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THE STAIRS TO ANACAPRI
Originally Anacapri had only this precipitous flight of stairs to connect it with the world,
yet the sturdy peasants made nothing of clambering up and down its wearying heights with
heavy loads of their native wines, great bundles of provisions, and other supplies that now
come more easily by the winding road (see page 203).
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Photograph by Von Gloeden
The olive skin, the ebon eyes, and hair of the native-born son of Italy are as characteristic as
his temperament
tieth century thoughts and activities are
developments of the purpose, ideals, and
philosophy of the central Italians, from
the days when Roman school - boys
scratched caricatures of Christians on the
walls of public buildings upon the Pala-
tine to the beginning of the decadence
that followed hard upon the Renaissance
in Florence and her compeer cities.
First of all the Italian cities to shake
the world was Rome, imperial center of
civilization, culture, politics, and religion.
Two of civilization’s five periods devel-
oped in her and bear forever her stamp
and sign. Her first period gave to the
world lessons in discipline, centralized
government, colonial policy and control,
civil law, military science, hygiene, and
water supply. The very persecutions of
that age stimulated the primitive Chris-
tians throughout the Empire into banding
together until the early Church took defi.
nite shape. The succeeding Roman Cath-
299
olic Church was the tireless conservator
of all learning and culture during the
perilous Dark Ages—the inspirer, the
civilizer, the sustainer. And after that
black night had passed, and men began
out of ae wreck of the old to build the
new, it was still the Church which was
able to remodel civilization.
GEOGRAPHY S PART IN ROMAN HISTORY
Though the situation of Naples, with
its enervating charm, worked nothing but
evil to that city, the location and phy sical
character of Rome—hills for defense, a
river for navigation, broad surrounding
fields for grazing—proved the greatest
asset of her people. It had so many nat-
ural advantages that every warring tribe
which captured it was itself captured and
quickly became Roman, thus making the
city always the strongest in the peninsula,
because it was the home and fortress of
the strongest people.
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Photograph by Donald McLeish
A METAL-WARE SHOP IN AOSTA, NORTHERN ITALY
The windows are filled with the glitter of cow-bells and metal-studded collars, while milk
churns and the huge copper cauldrons used in cheese-making gleam in the dark interior and
encroach on the pavement, where the mistress sits at the receipt of custom.
300
Ge Sen?
Photograph by Donald McLeish
A VALLEY IN THE GRAIAN ALPS ON THE ROAD TO COGNE: ITALY
Cogne is the center of a favorite hunting ground of Italy’s royalty. The beauty of the
deep-wooded valleys and climbing bridle-paths, presided over by the rugged grandeur of the
Gran Paradiso, La Grivola, and the Tour du Grand St. Pierre, makes this a royal region in
more than one sense. Some aspects of La Grivola are hardly inferior to the boldness of
the Matterhorn.
301
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ION EPISU NOSE IUE EIS, IDL 303
And from being the strongest city of
her district, and then of her whole coun-
try, Rome naturally expanded until she
dominated all the world of her time.
One of her mightiest weapons was her
malleability, her willingness to learn of
others, even though her inferiors. So
she progressed swiftly, irresistibly, origi-
nating here, improving there, experiment-
ing yonder, with the result that the ichor
flowed from her sturdy veins through-
out the whole world in inspiration and
example.
The charming legend of the beginnings
of Rome is quaintly illustrated by the fa-
mous bronze figure known as the Capito-
line Wolf. For the benefit of visitors to
the museum, let me say that the wolf is a
very ancient beast, but the twins so naive-
ly attached to her are modern additions.
The archeologists, alas, no longer permit
us to believe the legend, or that the town
took its name from one of the twins.
Tiber has always been an unruly and
turbulent stream; but the sophisticated
descendants of the early Romans—who
sought to appease his anger by sacri-
fices and rich gifts—have restrained him
within massive walls. From a height the
river looks a huge walled fosse, as if one-
half the city were protecting itself against
the other. The bridges that leap the
tawny flood in noble arches of gleaming
limestone and ruddy brick and dark
metal—throbbing by day with pedestrians
and vehicles and sparkling of an evening
with their golden lights—give a curiously
different effect: that of stitches binding
together the edges of the great gash.
At first Roman genius concerned itself
only with useful works, such as sewers,
bridges, viaducts. The Cloaca Maxima,
the great sewer that still drains the
Forum into the Tiber, is probably the
oldest true arch in Europe, and testifies
both to the Romans’ study of Etruscan
models and to their skill as architectural
engineers. And what aqueducts they
built—simple, grand, splendid! Witness
the towering Acqua Claudia, 45 miles
long, that comes striding over the low,
flat Campagna like a giant on stilts—a
hundred feet high in places. Water was
something every Roman community en-
joyed by right of citizenship.
Ancient Rome is said to have consumed
no less than 340,000,000 gallons of water
a day; and one of the most noticeable
features of the modern town is the prod-
igal effervescence of its water, gushing
from fountains of every conceivable size
and design. The Trevi is the most mag-
nificent in the city, its water — called
Acqua Vergine, Virgin Water, because of
its purity—the finest. The old Roman
baths took a lot of water. The splendid
Thernz built by the degenerate Emperor
Caracalla had accommodations for six-
teen hundred bathers. Beside the baths
proper, the establishment included within
its area, of about a quarter of a mile
square, a gymnasium, athletic field, li-
brary, and even a race track. Its ruins
tower above the plain today like some
mountain blasted by Nature.
“ALL ROADS LEAD TO ROME”
The time, the skill, the money the Ro-
mans put into their highways—among the
most remarkable of all their engineering
works—are almost incredible. No less
than eleven of these great arteries radi-
ated from the city—“all roads lead to
Rome,” runs the ancient proverb. The
most famous, the Via Appia, was built in
312 B.C. It was kept in constant repair
until the Middle Ages, and still connects
Rome and Brindisi, a distance of 366
miles (see page 306).
Though no burials were permitted in
Roman cities, it comes as a surprise to find
the finest roads lined with the ruins of all
sorts of tombs; stranger yet to find that
in medieval times the most magnificent of
the tombs were turned into strongholds
and crowned with battlements. The old-
est and handsomest of the tombs on the
Appian Way is the enormous circular
mausoleum of the Lady Cecilia Metella—
more than go feet in diameter—with a
frieze of flowers and skulls of oxen.
Equally impressive, though not a
stronghold, is the slender, graceful, pyra-
midal tomb of Sir Caius Cestius, 116 feet
high, which stands just outside the Ostian
Gate, whence St. Paul emerged on his
way to martyrdom. We probably never
should have heard of Sir Caius but for
this pyramid; the egotism of men some-
times lives after them.
304
Rome’s greatest historic and traditional
interest centers in the Forum Romanum,
once a deep and marshy little valley be-
tween the Capitoline and Palatine Hills.
In the beginning it probably looked some-
thing like one of the present-day open-air
markets. But it did not look lke a mar-
ket long, for temples and imposing public
buildings were added more and more to
the shops and stalls until the whole
Forum was a blaze of gilded bronze and
marble, a magnificent show place worthy
of the center of civilization (page 307).
And today? Ghosts and ruin! Here
in a somber file are the stumps of the
columns of the Colonnade of the Twelve
Gods. That heavy basement of brick and
mortar, with bits of cracked marble still
bravely shining on it, was the Orators’
Platform, where Antony came “to bury
Czsar, not to praise him.’”’ Across the
Holy Way all there is left of murdered
Cezesar’s Basilica Julia is its brick founda-
tion ; beyond, the crumbling fragments of
the palace of the Vestal Virgins, where a
few melancholy, shattered statues of the
high priestesses of this pure and lovely
cult stand tranquilly amid the desolation.
STIRRING THE POETS’ IRE
Every foot of ground in the Forum has
interest, much of it tragic—like the bar-
ren spot where, tradition says, Virginius
snatched a knife from a butcher’s block
and slew his beautiful daughter Virginia,
while Appius Claudius raged in impotent
fury; or the Vicus Tuscus (Tuscan
street), where the shopkeepers stirred
the poets to ire by using their precious
manuscripts as wrapping-paper !
And hither and yon, from Palatine to
Capitoline, from Tabularium to Colos-
seum, only ruin—brick, mortar, marble,
columns, arches, statuary —all desolate
and forlorn and broken. And the lament-
able part of it all is that it was not the
northern barbarian who accomplished the
greatest ruin, though he did his share.
For a thousand years any Roman who
wished to build church or palace simply
came here, tore down and carried away
whatsoever he would. Worse yet, con-
tractors actually demolished whole struc-
tures—to burn their marble for lime—
and eventually peasants turned the buried
waste into a vegetable garden and a cow-
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
pasture. It was not until 1870 that the
Italian Government began systematic ex-
cavation and unearthed the present pan-
orama of destruction.
ARCHITECTURE THE KEYNOTE OF ROMAN
CHARACTER
The Romans were late in developing
artistic genius, for first of all they were
men of action: fighters, strategists, poli-
ticlans—imperialists. Their work reflects
them—their vast strength, their love of
lavish adornment, their lack of true re-
finement, and their carelessness of subor-
dinate detail. Simpson points out in his
History of Architectural Development
that had they possessed the artistic sense
of their Greek neighbors their architect-
ure would have been the grandest the
world has ever seen. The greatest sig-
nificance of the Roman gift to art lies in
its universal distribution, for while the
Romans laid their heavy yoke upon all
nations, at the same time they dissemi-
nated their laws and art—perhaps I had
better say the art of Greece, adapted and
generalized, made fit for cosmopolitan
acceptance.
For all the destruction and moderniz-
ing that has transformed the Eternal
City, its ancient magnificence crops out in
unexpected places: in the blank wall of
the Stock Exchange, eleven columns of
Neptune’s temple; in a narrow street,
twelve arches of the Theater of Marcel-
lus, filled with workshops; again, a few
forlorn survivors of the once splendid
Porticus of Octavia, and so on. At the
end of one of the massive stitches that
span the Tiber the gleaming solid marble
of the exquisite little round temple of
Mater Matuta—or whatever it may have
been called—gems the bank like a great
pearl.
A few paces farther along, thrusting
indomitably up from the level of older
days, all the beauty of pure lonic ideals
is crystallized in the so-called Temple of
the Fortune of Men, soft-hued tufa and
weathered travertine. The two stand al-
most intact, because of the early Chris-
tians whose eye for beauty—or was it
their practical sense?—seized upon and
preserved them as churches when the old
gods ceased to call.
Copyright by Keystone View Co.
A CROWD IN THE CONCOURSE OF ST. PETER’S WATCHING THE SMOKE FROM THE
CHIMNEY OF THE SISTINE CHAPEL
In choosing the Pope, the cardinals, who are the electors, are locked in the Sistine Chapel,
which stands between St. Peter’s and the Vatican. None of them may leave and no person
may enter. If a cardinal is obliged by illness or accident to leave the conclave, he cannot
return. After the ballots are cast and counted, they are burned, if no choice has been reached.
The smoke issuing from the chimney above (to the left of the obelisk) is evidence that the
ballot just taken has failed to elect. It is said that two years of balloting were required to
elect Gregory X, who was absent in the Holy Land as a crusader at the time of his eleva-
tion, 1270.
305
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NEP OSU NUS INOS ILI, CALC 309
The largest and most wonderful of all
Roman temples was Hadrian’s Pantheon,
with its carelessly attached but splendid
portico from a century-older temple of
Agrippa. What walls—2zo feet thick, and
highest on the outside, to weight down
the haunches of the concrete dome that
covers the building like a huge shell! One
hundred and forty-two feet six inches the
rotunda stands, and 142 feet 6 inches the
structure measures in diameter, so subtly
designed that although the walls are half-
domed and half-vertical inside it looks as
if the dome began right at the floor. The
beautiful and subtle effect of the lght-
ing, from the single eye in the top of the
dome, has never been excelled (see page
308 ).
THE PANTHEON’S DESPOILIATION
Though the Pantheon has been a Chris-
tian church since the seventh century, it
has suffered most at the hands of Chris-
tians: the dome stripped of its gilded
bronze titles to decorate Constantino-
ple—incidentally, the Saracen pirates
rifled the bronze en route, and it never
saw the Byzantine city—and the portico
robbed of its ceiling and bronze girders
to make cannon for the Castello Sant’
Angelo, Hadrian’s transformed tomb.
Not much remains of the exterior gran-
deur of this once most magnificent mau-
soleum in the world.
But nowhere else can the history of
ancient and medieval Rome be read more
vividly than in its battered remains.
Within and about it Roman and _ barba-
rian, Pope and Emperor, struggled and
fought Tome 5OO, years. On top or the
castle still lie piles of cannon-balls made,
in time of stress, from the beautiful mar-
bles with which Hadrian adorned his
lavish memorial.
THE MILITARY MONUMENTS
Magnificent columns and arches to com-
memorate their military exploits appealed
strongly to the pomp-loving Emperors.
Trajan obliterated a hill 142 feet high to
build a private forum, the most splendid
architectural achievement of the Golden
Age of Rome. The sole majestic sur-
vivor of all that lavish display is his su-
perb column, on which every phase of
war—triumph and defeat, whirlwind
charge and stubborn combat—is depicted
with brilliant realism in the broad band
of dashing, vigorous reliefs that wind
from top to bottom.
The most perfect example of the colos-
sal type of triumphal arch is that of
Titus, destroyer of Jerusalem. Erected
in 81 A. D., it stands near the end of the
Sacra Via, beautifully simple, tremen-
dously impressive—one lofty arch be-
tween two terrific masses of masonry
decorated with pilasters. Superb high-
relief panels—a specific creation of im-
perial Rome—depict the sack of the Jew-
ish capital, the Emperor’s triumph, and
such historic loot as the great seven-
branched Hebrew candlestick.
The Arch of Septimius Severus, though
much larger, is not so good, while as for
the very finest arch in the Empire, built
by Constantine the Great in 312, it is
neither the construction nor decoration
that most impresses us. It is the fact that
close to the Colosseum, that bloodiest and
most depraved institution in the Eternal
City, Constantine, the first Christian Em-
peror, defying old gods and degenerate
Romans alike, dared record his belief that
he owed his victory over the tyrant Max-
entius to the Divine power.
THE HOUSE OF DEATH
The most imposing theater ever erected
by mortal hands, a grim house of death,
consecrated by blood and tears, the Col-
osseum stands today a stupendous monu-
ment to Roman pride and degradation.
Almost a third of a mile in circumference,
it towers 157 feet up into the air, the
original and monumental “play to the gal-
lery” of popular approval. In 80 A. D.
Emperor Titus opened its history with a
tremendous inaugural of an hundred days
of “games,” in which men fought with
other men and with wild animals, and no
one knows the exact tale of the lives
snuffed out on its bloodied sands ‘“‘to
make a Roman holiday” (see page 311).
In the construction of the Colosseum
its builders adhered to their new note of
superimposing the three Orders—Doric,
Tonic, and Corinthian—an idea that has
exerted a greater influence upon the de-
sign of monumental works than any other
O10
Roman innovation. But who thinks of
that, standing before it today with the
golden Italian sunshine glorifying every
scar, and conjuring back from the dead
past vivid spectacles of Roman holidays
full of noise and color, laughter and
bloody agonies ; or when liquid moonlight
transfigures the classic ruin into a magic
fabric where stalk the thin ghosts of saint
and vestal, slave and Emperor?
THE UNDERGROUND CITIES OF THE DEAD
Nature has been kind to the Palatine,
that hill where dwelt the shepherd kings
and where later rose the tremendous pal-
aces of Emperor after Emperor, by cloth-
ing its scanty ruins with lavish verdure.
The silence of oblivion broods over the
fragments of the halls where Domitian
played with his fleas and Caligula bathed
in shimmering seas of minted coins. The
most compelling thing upon the whole
bosky hill is the little stone altar chiseled:
Set Deo, Sei Deive—to the Unknown
God.
This was really the shrine of the pro-
tecting deity of the city, the patron god
of Rome, and only the priests knew ‘the
dread spirit’s name. It was never writ-
ten, but handed down verbally from gen-
eration to generation, because, if the com-
mon people knew whom they worshiped,
any traitor could reveal the sacred name
to an enemy, who might bribe the deity
to forget Rome.
What a contrast!—the home of the
Unknown God on the pleasant hillside, in
the sun-sweetened air, and far under-
ground, pent in the damp chill of the
Catacombs, the altars—often the sar-
cophagi of martyrs—of the stout-hearted
who worshiped the Known God.
Originally cemeteries, perfectly well
known to the pagan authorities, these re-
markable vaults and galleries and chapels,
20 to 50 feet below the surface, became
hiding places for the faithful in time of
persecution. More than forty of these
cities of the dead, which extend around
Rome in a great subterranean circle, have
been explored, and it has been estimated
by an Italian investigator that between
six and eight million bodies were interred
in them.
Not only are the tombs hewn in tiers
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
along the walls of the galleries, but the
galleries themselves are in stories, one
above another, in one place seven tiers
high. Their decorations range from
mere daubs of red paint, telling the name
of the deceased in a given tomb, to elab-
orate frescoes. Above. ground there seems
a great gap between the temples of the
pagan city and the existing churches of
Christian Rome, since all the oldest
churches have been destroyed. This gap,
however, is at least partly bridged over
by the Catacombs.
ST. PETER’S CATHEDRAL,
It would be as impossible to give an
adequate idea of Rome’s multitudinous
churches as it would of the enormous
quantity of art treasures in the museums,
or an adequate and intelligible idea of the
city’s unique and marv elous history. The
overpowering monument of the Church
of Rome is St. Peter’s Cathedral—the
tangible evidence of the evolution of the
early Church into the present-day world-
encircling spiritual power.
Many an architect had a share in its
building, but all that is admirable may be
accredited to two: first, Bramanti, then
Michelangelo, who planned that vast
dome, Joating lightly as a soap-bubble
above the roof. What a pity that the last
architect should have spoiled its effect by
cutting off the view of the whole lower
part by a lengthened nave and statues 19
feet high above the facade! (see pages
302-305).
About 80,000 persons—nearly a sixth
of the entire population of Rome—can
gather in this huge cathedral. The vast
nave stretches away tremendously im-
pressive under its magnificent barrel
vault, 75 feet in span; yet so perfectly is
the building proportioned that only when
standing beside a given detail can one
grasp its real size. Nothing but a cata-
logue could describe the great interior,
with its lavish mortuary monuments to
dead Popes, its magnificent bronze balda-
chin, its celebrated effigy of the kissing
ceremony, its amazingly perfect mosaic
copies of the paintings of the old masters,
which have been removed.
Nor could any pen picture a tithe of
the glory of Michelangelo’s frescoes in
THE COLOSSEUM FROM PALATINE HILL: ROME
Could the walls of this great structure speak, what tales of anguish and of debauchery
they could give us. The Colosseum was dedicated in 80 A. D. with gladiatorial combats
lasting a hundred days, in which 5,c00 wild animals were killed; history mercifully is silent
as to how many human beings gave their lives for this Roman holiday. For three and a
quarter centuries man and beast here were forced to die that a conscience-deadened people
might laugh.
311
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312
Photograph by Von Gloeden
THE SERENADE
Music is as necessary to the Italian people as are their mild wine and spaghetti
the Sistine Chapel, of the frescoes and
paintings and other treasures in the
Stanze and Galleries of Raphael in the
adjoining Vatican; indeed, of any of the
wonders of either Papal Palace or Ca-
thedral, save only the enthralling pros-
pect from Michelangelo’s dome, 400 feet
above the pavement.
Below, Bernini’s huge colonnade, the
grandest Doric peristyle since the Par-
thenon, extends its giant arms to gather
the worshiping nations to its heart. The
river, guarded by the mighty cylinder of
the Castello Sant’ Angelo, glistens like a
strip of curving asphalt after a summer
shower, as it winds between its fortress
walls. All about on every hand glows
the turbid monotony of orange-brown
tiles, broken hither and yon by round
dome or square campanile, by the green
of gardens and the gray of open squares,
with the ancient streets cutting it all into
erratic patchwork; and beyond the city,
the flat monochrome of the Campagna
that tones away into the hazy mountains,
those looming Alban hills whose wander-
ing sons begat all this—Rome!
ST. PAUL’S-BEYOND-THE-WALLS
St. Paul, too, has his memorial, on the
spot outside the walls where he is said to
have been buried, a church that outranks
all other basilicas in vastness of size,
grandeur of plan, and magnificence of
adornment, with eighty granite columns,
rich old mosaics, and a frieze of mosaic
medallion portraits of every Pope, from
St. Peter down to Pius X. Adjoining
the church are beautiful cloisters, cool
and refreshing after the ornate interior.
Graceful columns surround them in
couples, here plain, here twisted into
fanciful contours, here richly encrusted
with Cosmato mosaics. They give both
charm and distinction to the now silent
close where the monks of old used to take
their sober pleasurings.
Modern Rome is as the visitor, and he
would be a hardy soul indeed to say how
and where the city most interestingly dis-
313
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O16
closes itself; whether in the surging life
of the Via Nazionale or the Corso, each
with its restless tide of cosmopolitan hue ;
the Piazza del Popolo, with its diurnal
passeggiata winding up the steep slopes
of the wooded Pincio and through the
formal gardens; the Piazza di Spagna,
where the ardent kodaker finds ample
quarry among the picturesquely costumed
artists’ models who loiter about the
flower market on the steps leading up to
the quaint old church of the Mountain
Trinity ; the Seven Hills themselves, or
the lower quarters where the crowded
masses herd in noisy camaraderie. To
each who sees it all comes a different 1m-
pression of the sense and purpose of the
ever youthful city of the hills.
THE SPIRIT OF MODERN ROME
But equally to all who stand of a sunny
day in the garden of the Knights of
Malta, on Aventine’s crest, and look away
through the leafy lane among the trees,
comes the sense that here, regardless of
the vivid life of the city below, is visible
the spirit of the true Rome, of the Eternal
City ; for off in the near distance, framed
by the branches of the little park, floats
the dome of St. Peter’s triumphant above
man and all his works; as proud, as vast,
as massive as ever Italian art could make
it; sign and symbol even yet of the char-
acter and force of the city which for cen-
turies has molded not only her own sons,
but stamped an ineradicable impression
upon all civilization.
THE DESOLATE BEAUTY OF THE CAMPAGNA
The picturesque desolation of the Cam-
pagna, dotted with the summer straw and
wicker huts of the peasants instead of
the villas of the rich and noble ancients,
is swept about by mountain, forest, and
sea, gemmed with sparkling lakes and
pocked with dead craters and splendid
ruins. The planting of eucalyptus trees
and systematic drainage is working
bravely for a reclamation of the marshy
plain to its flourishing condition when, as
ancient Latium, it gave the Romans to
the world.
To the southeast the extinct volcanic
Alban Mountains form a striking back-
ground for equally striking towns—Castel
Gandolfo of papal fame, with its huge
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
palace dominating the somberly lovely
Lake Albano, darkly cupped by the lips
of an extinct but forbidding crater; and
the serene, pellucid sapphire of the Lake
of Nemi, “Diana’s Mirror,” hardly ever
kissed by the faintest breeze. Its lofty
lava walls are so precipitous one marvels
at the daring, skill, and patience of the
peasants who have so wonderfully culti-
vated them.
On the east the Apennines come down
to the Campagna in the abrupt Sabine
Range, beautiful, heavily wooded, copi-
ously watered limestone peaks. Tivoli is
cradled like an eagle’s nest high among
these sheltering hills, moated about on
three sides by the foaming impatience of
the Anio, that bursts violently out hither
and yon in long, snowy pennons of flying
spume. The precipice is jeweled with the
mutilated little temple of the Sybil, the
town ragged and twisty and instinct with
charming irregularities and _ contradic-
tions; and the great, gloomy, neglected
Villa d’Este is magnificent yet with the
saturnine beauty of its dusky cypresses
and ilex, gray olives and heavy hedges.
Small wonder that Tivoli and these
lovely Sabine hills drew the ancient sum-
mer colonists, or that a mile away Ha-
drian himself should have erected an im-
perial villa that was a marvel in its day,
and now in ours is only a confusing, con-
glomerate ruin among weedy gardens.
THE GRIFFIN CITY OF PERUGIA
Away to the north and west stretches
that most delightful and suggestive re-
gion, Umbria, well called the “Galilee of
Italy” because of its holy men and
women. It is a green and brown land of
isolated hills, each crowned by its special
type of city, and of rolling meads_ be-
tween; a rich and fertile land, full of the
quiet, pastoral beauty that infuses the
work of the Umbrian School of painters ;
a land of cities romantically unchanged.
Of all the Umbrian communities, the
Griffin City of Perugia is the most inter-
esting, the bloodiest, the most compelling.
Here again we have striking proof of the
value of geographical location. Much of
the power and eminence of the city was
due to its situation at the juncture of
several long spines of hill, 1,200 feet
high, commanding the Tiber, that winds
Photograph by Von Gloeden
YOUNG ITALY
There are nearly one-tenth as many Italians in America today as in Italy itself. The
vast sums of gold that hard work and hard living enable the Italian to save up and send
home, where a quarter looks as big as a dollar here, is the best immigration stimulant there
is. That accounts for the fact that we were increasing our Italian population at an average
of 16 per cent a year during the twenty-five years before the European war began.
317
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319
320
at its feet, and two great Roman roads.
Today it sprawls about its hilltops, for all
the world lke some uncouth sea monster
with thick, wavy legs and arms flung out
in groping search for prey, bolstered up
here, braced there, underlaid yonder by
tremendous masses of masonry.
The old towers and donjon keeps, once
the most distinctive features of its nar-
row, tortuous streets, have most of them
vanished ; others have been beheaded ; but
the whole aspect of the town is even to-
day military and despotic; and many a
house still shows traces of the heavy
chains that barred the dangerous streets
after nightfall, when, if a man forgot his
steel undershirt, he came home in a
shroud! Even the quaint and beautiful
friezes above some of the doors, with
Latin inscriptions and mottoes, cannot
abate its severity. Here one reads Pul-
chra janua ubi honesta domus (Beautiful
the door of an honest house), there So-
licitudo mater divitarum: (Carefulness is
the mother of riches), and over a church
lintel the pious Janua Coeli (Door of
Heaven).
The old, joyous life of the city centered
in the Piazza del Duomo. Here the gentle
Perugians played at their game of hurling
stones at one another until often a dozen
were killed and scores wounded. But
that was Perugia! And what of the in-
nocent looking iron fence about the cen-
tral fountain? Many a time its spikes
have borne the bloodied heads of nobles,
stuck there by other nobles whose turn
was yet to come. No wonder Perugia
needed porte del mortuccio — special
“doors of the dead’’—tall, arched, nar-
row; walled up now and easily passed
unseen.
At one side of the Piazza is the big,
unfinished Gothic Cathedral of San Lo-
renzo, with its beautifully carven choir
stalls and that graceful little open-air
pulpit, leaning slightly toward the sun,
where St. Bernard preached to an unre-
generate people and watched the books
on necromancy and the ladies’ false hair
burned.
THE HOLY CITY OF ASSISI
Across the fertile vale softly colored
Assisi, the Holy City, the town of the
Saints, the mystic heart of Umbria,
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
stands upon its hills, and high above all,
like a Titan smitten by the thunder, rises
the grim, austere old ruin of the Rocca,
that castle the Assisans regretted as bit-
terly as they had longed fervently for its
protection. In the plain below, the little
river Tescio winds and twists in bur-
nished zigzags that flash the golden sun-
light up against the oak and vine, corn
and olive clad slopes of the hills.
There is hardly a more medieval city
in Italy in aspect than Assisi, and this
quaint idea is intensified by the burrows
that run in a perfect labyrinth beneath
the level of the twisty, narrow, shut-in
streets—hiding places into which, before
the city was fortified, the frightened citi-
zens could pop at the first sign of an ap-
proaching enemy.
It is a city of churches and confra-
ternity buildings, held even yet in the
spell of St. Francis. -And not of St
Francis alone. His ideals and work so
moved the rich and lovely Clara Scifi
that she forsook everything in life to be
his co-worker and inspirer. Like him, she
founded an Order—the Poor Clares—
and lies today in the simple church that
bears her saintly name, embayed among
the soft gray olives on the hillside.
THE PREACHER OF POVERTY’S
CENT CHURCH
MAGNIFI-
It was the glorification rather than the
spell of St. Francis that inspired the
genius who, at the very tip of the wedge-
shaped town, gave his mighty vision play
in the amazingly strong and beautiful
Church of San Francesco, the first Gothic
church in Italy—a vast double pile, one
church above another—with a magnifi-
cent monastery sweeping down its side.
It stands solidly upon massive substruc-
tures among the gnarled old olive trees
of the slope, so perfect in design and lo-
cation that from every vantage point and
in every light it is new and different.
But what a church, what a monastery
for the preacher of poverty! Within,
from floor to arches, Italian painting was
reborn in wondrous frescoes that “spoke
to men who could not read but
whose hearts received teaching
through the eye.” Cimabue, Gaddo
Gaddi, Giunta, and the greatest of all,
Giotto, covered these
walls with pictures
that had far more than
mere decorative signi-
ficance. For the first
time in the story of
Chnistiane age. the
whole Christian be-
lief was summarized
in such a lifelike, nat-
ural way upon these
acres of walls that it
sufficed for both the
spiritual and material
ei
education of the age, =—
and indeed even for S
ourselves. =—
Far nearer to the
Franciscan ideal is the
desolate hermitage of
WemiCarcerh tay . out
beyond the town in a
bleak, wild gorge,
where the eye can
hardly distinguish
man-made walls from
Masta Tock!) St.
Francis loved to retire
to this barren solitude
for meditation when
the battle he fought
against worldliness
and sin impaired his
physical and spiritual
vigor. About the
Carcer1 grow somber
ilex trees, beneath
which he preached his
sermon to the birds,
and above all rises the jagged peak of
Subasio, gray as the monkish habit. It
is the abode of silence and of peace and
memory. Indeed, that is Assisi—mem-
ory, silence, peace!
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THE QUEEN CITY OF TUSCANY
Northwest of Umbria, Tuscany unrolls
a panorama of surpassing beauty and
contrast, from the grim Apennine crags
on the east, downward in a gentle slope
dotted with hills, watered by innumerable
streams on every side, to the blue Tyr-
rhenian Sea. It isa region sharply
marked and richly diversified, the dry
beds of prehistoric lakes near certain of
its cities and toward the coast forming
little plains that serve to intensify the
=]
THE PIAZZA DI SAN MARTINO AND THE HOUSE (IN CENTER)
WHERE DANTE WAS BORN:
FLORENCE
more rugged charm of its hilliness. Tus-
cany’s three great cities—Fiorence, Siena,
and Pisa—stand opposed in every re-
spect: in character, appearance, history,
and interest today.
The story of Florence is the story of
humanity: the broad, deep, moving epic
of the awakening of man to his own di-
vine power; the story of wonderful self-
made men who had but one idea in com-
mon—the thirst for free activity of soul.
So the tale of the New Birth, the Renais-
sance, 1s the record of individual spirit so
free, so subtle and elastic, so profoundly
penetrating to the springs of human pur-
pose, that it has furnished the motive
power of the world ever since; and Flor-
ence, as its source and focus, because of
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A WINE MERCHANT OF FLORENCE
The wine of the country is put up in these two-quart flasks and sent all over Italy,
vith very
little breakage
the conditions then obtaining in the city
and throughout Italy, was the one spot in
the world capable of producing such an
epoch-making upheaval of human con-
sciousness.
WHY THE RENAISSANCE BEGAN IN
BLORENCE
And all this astonishing genius grew
directly out ofi—business! The city was
peopled by men who manufactured the
necessities of life, by merchants, specu-
lators, bankers, tradesmen, artisans,
handicraftsmen of every type. Business,
work, was a condition of active participa-
tion in the life cf the State, and because
they did not work, the nobles were de-
barred from this. It was the burghers,
the people, who ruled; and even when
evil chance laid the State under the heavy
hand of a despot, he was forced to de-
velop his own character to the uttermost,
because his rule depended entirely upon
his capacity as a man. The aristocracy,
accordingly, was that of intelligence, of
to
(oS)
men who became eminent because, first of
all, they were the best in their own indi-
vidual work.
Under the practical inspiration of these
mental giants, Florence was _ recreated
and learned to view life from within i1n-
stead of superficially; she learned that
the individual is the soul of the State, and
that the State can succeed only when it ts
true to the best interests of its individuals.
And the Renaissance, the new creation—
was it merely a wonderful: revival of
learning? It was infinitely more: it was
the freeing of the human spirit from
shackling bonds of medieval tradition.
superstition, and misconception; it was
the dawning of the mental liberty we en-
joy today; it was the beginning of the
third distinct period Italian genius gave
to civilization, the greatest period and the
greatest gift of all; it was the launching
of man’s greatest and most heroic adven-
tuUGe:
The severe grandeur of medieval Flor--
ence still gives a specific character to the:
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town of the Guilds. Its palaces; its
bridges, the sweep of its Lung’ Arno, its
embattled visage with the souls of the
houses peering from behind their iron
bars at the blue hills, are still the same.
The proudest jewels in its crown are
the three great buildings in the Piazza
Duomo. Oldest of these is the beautiful
octagonal Baptistery, with Ghiberti’s per-
fect bronze doors. “They are fit to be
the gates of heaven!”’ young Michelan-
gelo cried when he saw them.
The cathedral, Sta. Maria dei Fiori—
as much a feature of the Florentine land-
scape as a man’s nose is a part of his
face —looms large from any vantage
point, its buoyant dome floating airily
above the marble paneling of the soft-
colored walls. It fills one with admiring
astonishment for its symmetrical dimen-
sion, its perfect poise, its grandeur, its
everlasting strength.
is Giotto’s Campanile, slender and strong
and graceful as a young maid beside her
portly mother. Richly “ornamented with
bas-reliefs and statues, the superb bell-
tower is a marble history, left standing
open for the delight of appreciative
readers (see page 320).
THE CHURCH OF THE BROKEN HEARTS
As a general thing the intellectuals of
Florence went calmly on with their cre-
ative work, unmindful of the tumult
about them. Not so Dante. With all the
fervor of his artistic temperament, he
plunged into the thick of politics, in the
endeavor to save his beloved city from
being torn to pieces, and was exiled be-
fore he reached the zenith of his powers.
Broken-hearted and bitter, he died at
Ravenna in 1321, and his ashes are still
there; but in the old Franciscan church
of the Holy Cross rises one of the two
monuments disdainful Florence conde-
scended to give her greatest poet, whose
greatest honor lies in his gift to the
world at one splendid sweep of a pure
and recreated iene language—until his
time halting and feeble—in that immortal
masterpiece of literature, the Divina
Commedia.
This church might well be known
as the Broken Hearts, instead of Santa
Croce, for near Dante’s cenotaph lies
the body of that other terrific genius,
Fit companion to it,
Michelangelo, who, broken in spirit, died
gladly when the city so dear to his heart
fell once more upon dark and tyrannous
days. And Galileo is here, too, and Al-
fieri, and Macchiavelli, and many another,
a brilliant train.
Michelangelo’s last work is in the
Church of San Lorenzo, in the mortuary
chapel of the Medici—the great house
which deigned to favor him with its pa-
tronage or its enmity throughout his life.
He did not make portraits of the statues
over the tombs of Giuliano and Lorenzo,
son and grandson of the Magnifico.
When some one remonstrated, he teplied
with haughty carelessness that he did not
suppose people a century later would care
much how the Dukes looked. Most prob-
ably they didn't!
While he was working in the mauso-
leum the Medici, who had been expelled
for the third time, came thundering at
the city’s gates. Always a strong re-
publican, Michelangelo engineered the
fortifications by day and worked stealth-
ily on his statues by night. Florence
fell; her sun had set; and the tombs
became less a monument to the tyrants
for whom they were reared than to
his cherished city. And so he wrought,
not the still beauty of the Greeks, but the
symbols of his own desperation in the
marvelous Twilight and Dawn, and Day
and Night upon the tombs.
THE UFFIZZI AND PITTI PALACES
In the two great palaces of the Uffizzi
and Pitti are gathered the most inspiring
collections in the world of the works of
the geniuses who made Florence the peer-
less city of art transcendent, and left be-
hind them models for all time, not merely
of» material beauty and perfection in
painting and sculpture, but of thought as
well—Fra Angelico of the sexless, radi-
ant angels ; Lippo Lippi of the daringly
human Madonnas ; visionary Botticelli;
del Sarto of the soulless, exquisite tech-
nique as smooth as Nature; emotional,
precocious Correggio; and Raphael,
greater than all, summing up in his swift,
apparently effortless mastery more than
the genius of all the rest—color, propor-
tion, beauty, intellect, spirituality, and
rare human kindness.
Florence wears a splendid living girdle
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in the silvery Arno, barred with many a
stately bridge, bordered on either hand
by the broad, plain edging of the Lung’
Arno promenade. With the measured
tramp of the soldiers and the squeal of
their angry-sounding bugles—and the sol-
dier is always in evidence in Florence,
even in times of peace—we may well
imagine ourselves back in medieval times.
The illusion of the medieval is even
greater by night, when the bridges set
twinkling coronets over the sparkling
stream, and the mysterious military fig-
ures marching past might be the halber-
diers and pikemen of Lorenzo Il Mag-
nifico, instead of the Bersagiieri of Vit-
torio Emmanuele III.
THE GREAT GUILDS
The Ponte Vecchio, with its queer, cov-
ered, second-story passageway between
the two palaces, 1s a pure delight, its
little houses looking so insecurely slapped
against its sides that they seem always
threatening to come off and drop into the
stream (see page 330).
The inside of the bridge is equally cu-
rious, with its beguiling shops of jewelry
and precious stones. Since the fourteenth
century it has been occupied by the Guild
of the Goldsmiths, one of the original
societies of Florentine labor and science.
These guilds were the prototypes of our
labor organizations and played a promi-
nent part, not only in politics, but in the
artistic development of the city as well.
This interest of the working people was
one of the great reasons for the suprem-
acy of Florence in the field of art.
THE PALAZZO VECCHIO AND SAVONAROLA
In the old, battlemented Palazzo Vec-
chio, which still rears its created head in
the pride of militant beauty, we may say
that Florentine history was made from
the beginning of the fourteenth century
down to the unification of Italy under
Victor Immanuel II of Sardinia. It
stands on the Piazza of the Signoria, the
great forum of the people. To one side
is the Loggia dei Lanzi, a splendid, open,
vaulted rostrum or platform, now an
open-air museum of sculpture. Among
the figures is the beautiful, if somewhat
affected, Perseus of Benvenuto Cellini, a
master work that has been copied all over
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
the world. It was in this piazza that the
austere monk, Girolamo Savonarola, who
towers above the most splendid figures
who have peopled Florence, gallantly died
by fire. : :
The most charming and_ attractive
mural decorations in Florence are the fig-
ures and groups of glazed white terra-
cotta, usually on a blue ground, largely
the work of the della Robbia family.
They star the walls of churches, palaces,
chapels, with their sympathetic, floating
figures, and from the spandrels of the
battered, grimy old Hospital of the Inno-
centi—the first real Renaissance struc-
ture—a lovely band of Andrea della Rob-
bia’s swaddled infants gaze out, extend-
ing tiny hands in mute supplication to the
hard-hearted. Luca della Robbia worked
well in both bronze and marble before he
began his work in clay, as his exquisite
singing and dancing boys, panels once on
the choir screen, and now in the cathedral
museum, attest (see page 329).
SUNSET IN FLORENCE
Though the sun of the Florentine re-
public set nearly four centuries ago, the
sun of Nature still continues to set over
the city as it did in the days of her glory.
Cross the river, and wind slowly up the
lovely, rose-hedged, tree - embowered
Viale dei Colli to the Piazza Michelan-
gelo, high above the city, to see the Mas-
ter Painter spread his wonder-palette at
the close of day. The sun steals down
toward his cool bed in the silent Arno
above the bridges and the dusty town.
The bluish green of the river fires with
molten gold—bridges and towers and
roofs are etched sharply black under the
flaming canopy of the heavens. For a
moment Florence glows and darkens with
the spell of a more than earthly transfor-
mation.
Then the shadows lengthen, deepen.
The dim and distant hills fade into ob-
scurity. The Genius of the Dark throws
his azure mantle over city and plain, and
Florence lies wrapped in the subtle in-
tegument of night. Out in the gardens
the sparrows twitter sleepily, a chill little
wind ruffles the smooth cheek of the
Arno, the edges of the clouds are tipped
suddenly with silver, and a flood of
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THE DANCING, SINGING CHILDREN, BY LUCIA DELLA ROBBIA, IN THE MUSEUM OF
THE CATHEDRAL: FLORENCE
Authorities agree that “the naive charm of childhood” never has been portrayed better
than in the ten groups of reliefs of which this one is represented. They are regarded as
unequaled alike for the naturalness and truth of the figures and for the grace of movement
and form they possess (see page 328).
329
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THE BACADE OF THE CATHEDRAL: SIRNA
The design of this cathedral, had it been completed, would have produced one of the
largest churches in the world. But the plague of 1248, wars at home and abroad, and, most
of all, the native variability of the Sienese temperament, interrupted its construction so often
that it finally remained “unfinished and bizarre.” But “it is incongruous with genius, not
with stupidity” (see text, page 339).
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THE INTERIOR OF THE CATHEDRAL OF SIENA
striped effect of this interior was obtained through the employment of alternate white
and black blocks of marble in the upbuilding of the supporting columns
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argent glory bathes the scene. Again
the river awakens. Lights twinkle gaily
throughout the city and gem the bridges
with diamond sparklets of fire. Florence
that lived and died is alive again, the city
of unforgettable glories, the city of art
transcendent, the city that gave so much
to make life worth while today.
ON THE SLOPES BEYOND
Everywhere about Florence milk-white
roads wind out through gardens along
undulating slopes dotted with cypresses,
up through olive groves that glisten a
gray green in the sun, past white villas,
where bright-eyed lizards bask on the
shimmering walls.
One of the most attractive is the great
Palmieri Villa, where Boccaccio and his
companions are said to have fled when
the Black Plague of 1348 swept Europe,
and, to pass the weary hours, told those
stories which took permanent shape in
the Decameron. Farther out, on the
slopes of Fiesole, Lorenzo the Magnifi-
cent built his favorite villa of Careggi,
in whose spacious halls and gardens he
gathered a court of artists and poets, ma-
gicians and sculptors.
On these same lovely green and white
slopes, where Nature has so lavished her
floral gifts, the peasant lads are still the
same simple, unaffected children of the
sun and the soil that Giotto was when
Cimabue found him sketching his sheep;
and the great milk-white Tuscan oxen,
mild and patient, toil steadily through the
powdery white dust with their primitive,
lumbering carts, probably the same as the
ones used in his day.
DREAMING IN THE SUNSHINE
High among the rich vines and olives
of the farthest slope Etruscan Fesule, or
Fiesole, that gave Fra Angelico to the
world, dreams in the mild sunshine. It is
not much of a town today, this little set-
tlement of straw-weavers, with its houses
so tightly shuttered against both heat and
cold they look like robber strongholds.
But Fiesole was old and important before
the shining city beside the Arno was born.
Bits of its cyclopean Etruscan walls still
stand, and one may sit on the grass-grown
steps of the Roman amphitheater on the
we
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slope below the medieval cathedral with
its stalwart campanile.
Velathri, or Volterra, of magnificent
views, on a commanding, olive- dix emi-
nence in the province of Pisa, was an-
other great Etruscan city—one of the
most powerful of the Twelve Confeder-
ated Cities of Etruria. It is medieval to-
day, with picturesque towers and houses,
and a beautiful thirteenth century cathe-
dral and babtistery of black and white
marble.
But the everlasting megalithic Etrus-
can walls, 40 feet high and 12 feet thick,
ae still largely standing along their
41% miles of teapot- shaped circumfer-
ence, their most important feature the
Porta dell’ Arco, an archway of dark-
gray stone 20 feet high, with corbels on
which are still dimly visible chiseled
heads, possibly the stern gods this van-
ished people worshiped.
We have learned much of the life and
customs of the Etruscans from their
tomb-paintings and the articles that now
fill the museums—we know the ladies
used mirrors and curling-irons; we have
seen the children’s toys—but though we
have found long inscriptions, no one has
as yet been able to decipher more than
their letters ; the words still veil the story
in them. ;
THE “FRIVOLOUS GENTRY” OF SIENA
As in the cases of Rome and Perugia,
Nature provided for Siena a position that
was the commanding center of all her re-
gion: a lofty tripart ridge, dividing the
network of streams that flow to both
north and west; but she withheld the one
further thing needed—water. Not only
were the near-by streams mere brooks,
affording no means of communication
with the surrounding country, but there
was not even enough water for the city’s
supply.
Patiently engineers searched the hills
for: amy) trace of “the precious fluid,
and with remarkable skill brought the
flow of every available spring into sub-
terranean conduits that still move us to
admiration by their cleverness. Once,
when they found an extra drop—enough
to furnish a thin stream for a new and
lovely fountain—the whole city carni-
THE PARISH CHURCH OF SAN GIOVANNI: SIENA
Built after 1317, and formerly a baptistery forming a sort of crypt to the cathedral, San
Giovanni is distinctly medieval. The unfinished Gothic facade is another monument to the
instability of the Sienese. The most interesting art treasures of the interior are works of
Ghiberti and Donatello.
THE WELL HEAD IN THE MONASTERY OF MONTE OLIVETO MAGGIORE: NEAR SIENA
This Benedictine monastery is one of the most famous in Italy. It was founded in 1320,
and although the lands surrounding it had a sterile chalk soil, the monks converted them into
a veritable oasis of fertility.
337
THE PALAZZO PUBBLICO: SIENA
This striking structure, built of brick and travertine, was completed in 1305, being now
more than six centuries old. The tower is regarded as one of the finest in Europe. William
Dean Howells says of it: “When once you have seen the Mangia, all other towers, obelisks,
and columns are tame and vulgar and earth-rooted; that seems to quit the ground, to be, not
a monument, but a flight.”
PINE DGIAUS PIB MPA TE ys
valed for two solid weeks in joyous aban-
don, and named their new treasure the
Fonte Caia!
It was a typical celebration of this
kindly, simple, provincial folk whom
Dante patronizes a little sorrowfully as
“frivolous gentry.” With the natural
gaiety and mercurial temperament of
impulsive youngsters, gaily they began,
and as gaily forsook an object.
Their very cathedral, unfinished and bi-
zarre, is one of their most characteristic
records, incomplete as the men who
stopped building at it when adverse cir-
cumstances damped their juvenescent en-
thusiasm. It is a building of contradic-
tions and excesses, neither Romanesque
nor Gothic, but of both schools, tinctured
with Lombard and Pisan peculiarities; a
tremendous pile of black and white mar-
bles, mostly wrong in its fundamentals,
and yet, in some intangible way despite
all its shortcomings, it makes as distinct
an impression as a Roman triumphal
arch, for it 1s incongruous with genius,
not with stupidity (see page 332).
Not all Siena’s children merited the
great Florentine’s epithet ; certainly neith-
er Pope Pius II nor St. Bernardino could
be accused of frivolity, and the mystic
Ste. Catharine, greatest, perhaps, of them
all, despite her humble origin in a dyer’s
family, lived a short, beautiful, tremend-
ously effective life, and left her impress
upon both her Church and her city for
ages to come.
SIENA AN ART CENTER
With its many beautiful palaces and
churches, loggias and fountains, Siena
ranks immediately after Rome, Florence,
and Venice in the importance of its art
during the thirteenth to the sixteenth cen-
turies. The whole city is instinct with
character—a maze of fascinating streets
winding and twisting about behind stout
stone walls that rise and plunge down
over the rough and broken hillsides. It
is the Middle Ages personified, its palaces
of a later date merely adding a touch of
Renaissance méringue to the solid medie-
valism that finds its most vivid expres-
sion in the Piazza del Campo, that unique,
almost semi-circular, square in a pocket
at the juncture of Siena’s three hill-spurs.
290
339
Here the hot-headed Sienese used to
revel in bloody, joyous, free - for -all
fights, first with staves and stones, later—
because of too numerous casualties—with
their bare fists. Today the citizens con-
tent themselves with a pageant and horse-
races, in which for the moment the campo
is gay with reminiscent glories.
Siena makes rather a pathetic figure in
history. While the Florentines possessed
enough imagination, initiative, and deter-
mination to accomplish whatever they set
their hands to do, the Sienese, lacking
their mental discipline, developed to a
certain medieval standard and stopped
growing. Even during the Renaissance,
when all the rest of Italy was striking
boldly out under the inspiration of Flor-
ence, Siena contented herself with out-
worn traditions and a fierce, passionate
jealousy of her mighty neighbor that
ended with her own eclipse ; and once the
Florentine supremacy was established,
Siena became what she is today, merely
a fine old provincial town full of glorious
art and memories.
It is of interest to note that the under-
lying cause of all the jealousy and the
bloody wars between Siena and Florence
was pure commercial rivalry.
THE FIRST OF THE MARITIME REPUBLICS
The first of the north Italian States to
be mistress of the seas was Pisa, a river
town, then only two miles from the sea
upon which she so gloriously proved her
strength in the troublous days of the
eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth cen-
turies. Her monumental buildings,
though they are within the circuit of her
ancient walis, stand clear of the city
proper, happy in their isolation; and no
one who is drawn to Pisa today by the
fame of their dazzling splendors can fail
to read in each and every one—cathedral.,
campanile, baptistery,and Campo Santo—
the record of her maritime successes.
The cathedral was founded in a burst
of popular enthusiasm after the great
naval victory over the Saracens at Pa-
lermo, Sicily, in the eleventh century, and
the Pisans brought home no less than six
whole shiploads of loot—bronzes, col-
umns, gold, and marbles and precious
stones—for its decoration. Inside and
out it rises in layers of black and white
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rich Corinthian col-
umns and arcades,
colored mosaics and
ornaments of antique
pattern, diversify its
wonderful facade—
the crowning glory of
the edifice—and from
the crossing springs a
huge dome that adds
both dignity and
height to its basilican
form.
Within, swinging
pendulously among
the red granite col-
umns that support the
roof, is a beautiful
and = farina otis) old
bronze lamp, whose
fame is based upon
the gentle oscillations
that set Galileo to
thinking out the pen-
dulum. Incidentally,
this is not the lamp;
it was an older one.
Not wonly. did. the
cathedral mark the
naval and maritime
achievements of Pisa,
but it also stood for a
magnificent beginning
of medieval Italian
architecture —a__ be-
ginning and a promise
which, unfortunately,
were never fulfilled.
THE INDIVIDUALITY OF ITALIAN
GENIUS
How strange it seems to us today that
the great city-republics of Italy never
seem to have thought of permanent con-
federation, but only of conquest! When
a temporary alliance was formed, as was
often the case, it was invariably for the
destruction or subjugation of some sister
city, and dissolved as soon as its purpose
was accomplished. This lack of Italian
unity in politics explains perfectly the
failure to develop a national style in
architecture. Such a development re-
quires the codperation of a whole peo-
ple, working together sympathetically
toward a common end, as was the case
Photograph by Von Gloeden
VIRILE YOUTH AND WRINKLED AGE
The folklore stories of the peasant patriarch stir the lively sense of
humor of the younger generation
in France during the development of the
Gothic.
This never occurred in Italy, and so
whatever great architecture we find there
is the work of individual genius. But
however much architecture suffered from
the general disunity, exactly the opposite
occurred in painting and sculpture. These
are always the result of special personal
ability. Accordingly, the Italians, be-
cause of their strong individuality and
their political systems, which made them,
as individuals, able and eager to think for
themselves, rank as the foremost painters
the world has ever seen.
About a century after the cathedral
was begun the baptistery was founded, a
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magnificent circular structure surrounded
completely with arcades and crowned
with a soaring dome of majestic propor-
tions and height. Splendid adjunct to the
cathedral as it is externally, it is the
dazzling interior we can never forget,
with its wonderful mosaics of colored
stones and its glorious hexagonal pulpit
in which Niccola Pisano foreshadowed
the Renaissance.
Most remarkable of all the superb
group, however, is the exquisite, colon-
naded, white marble campanile or bell-
tower. It was intended to be perfectly
erect, but by the time the third story had
been built the foundations of the south
side had subsided and the structure leaned
heavily. To prevent it from falling when
completed, the Pisans inclined every story
above the third slightly toward the north,
and the flag-pole and the heaviest bells
were placed on the safe side. Yet, despite
the correction in its inclination, it leaned
14 feet out of plumb a few years ago,
and because of further subsidence of the
foundation grave fears are felt for its
safety (see page 340).
PISA OF TODAY
Alongside the cathedral, to the north,
is the Campo Santo, or cemetery, every
inch of whose sepulchral soil is holy
ground, brought from the Holy Land.
Its cloisters are now a museum decorated
with the trophies of antiquity and re-
search, the walls covered with remarkable
frescoes.
The city offers little of its once pictur-
esque fame as a town without houses, but
full of mighty defensive towers. Most of
them have lost their heads, but some re-
main to hint of the desperate internecine
struggles that raged betimes in the dark
and airless streets. The old battlemented
walls that hemmed them in still stand,
lofty and scarred and patched.
Outside the rich plain waves with
whispering grain and vines, and is odor-
ous with the aromatic, balsamy breath
of the pine forests that reach down
toward the sea, whose ungentle winds
have tortured the ancient trees into un-
couth gnomes. Near by, about the royal
domain of San Rossore, the fields and
roads are picturesquely dotted with
camels—the only herds in Italy—and the
royal race horses.
©
It is impossible to express in a few
words the charm of northern Tuscany,
with its wealth of walled towns, its me-
dieval architecture, its luxurious and
stately villas and gardens, and the fresh,
clean, joyous greenery of the country-
side. In such a setting as this the thorny
outcrop of factory chimneys would move
a Ruskin to cry “Detestable!” The chim-
neys are detestable, as landscape, but the
industries of which they are the symbol
are the life of the region.
AMERICA IN ITALY
No less surprising is the fluent Ameri-
canese that everywhere greets the ear,
tripping gaily from the tongues of count-
less americani, as those Italians who have
been to either of our continents are jocu-
larly called by those who have not. Inci-
dentally, many of the chimneys are the
property of those repatriated americani.
In every town that amounts to anything
at all the neat factory girls and men give
the morning and the evening a distinctly
American sense of rush and scurry—in
sharp contrast to their leisurely neigh-
bors—as they obey the big whistles that
cut through the melodious appeal of the
bells with their imperious summons:
“Come! Plunge into my noise of loom
and machine, my roar of furnace and
grinding of gears, my smoky plumes that
are the aura of gold. Forget your dolce
jar mente of, the *past. “Look to the
future. Work — hurry — make progress
or die. Be independent—and happy!”
THE BIRTHPLACE OF RAPHAEL
To the east of Tuscany is the province
of The Marches, high and rugged ground
with a narrow strip of coast along the
Adriatic furrowed by little river valleys.
Its one large seaport, Ancona, is magnifi-
cently situated on the slopes of Monte
Conero, with its citadel on a peak to the
south, the cathedral on a similar height
to the north. Between spreads the busy
town, fringed by its harbor full of ship-
ping. Hundreds of vessels of all the
flags afloat discharge great merchandise
of coal and timber, jute and metals, and
take in exchange the black and smelly
asphalt and the white and odorless cal-
cium carbide.
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JONMERCISLA US USE PAUL Se
The town is full of dark, narrow,
crooked, very medieval-looking streets—
just the ideal place to stimulate the
imagination and fire the talents of its
greatest son, Raphael, the greatest
painter who ever set brush to canvas,
Not far away, on the Adriatic, is the
birthplace of the composer Rossini, the
town of Pesaro; and then, farther along-
shore, between two brawling streams,
Rimini the beautiful and historic, termi-
nus of the Roman Via Flaminia. Here,
too, the Via A‘milia starts to the north-
west. The pedestal commemorating
Czesar’s passage of the near-by Rubicon,
the great and elegant triumphal arch of
Augustus, and his superb, five-arched
bridge over the Marecchia—one of the
noblest works of its class in the Roman
world—still remain to give us the flavor
of the brilliant and constructive Roman
era.
RIMINI'S ARCHITECTURAL GEM
But Rimini’s grip upon the imagina-
tion is due to a love story that came
much later, as the beautiful Church of
San Francesco so eloquently testifies. It
is an astonishing little gem of an unfin-
ished Renaissance temple, built in the
middle of the fifteenth century around a
Gothic church two centuries older, by the
tyrant Sigismondo Malatesta, a great
prince, a great patron of the arts and
letters—himself no mean poet—a great
warrior, and a man of wild passions who
loved fiercely and often.
His church was built ostensibly as a
thank offering for his safety during a
dangerous campaign, but it actually cele-
brates his mad love for the beautiful
Isotta degli Atti. The architect gave ex-
pression to his patron’s passion by vari-
ous ingenious and effective devices: the
ceaseless repetition of the initial mono-
gram J §S, the arms of the pair—an
elephant and a rose—and the figure
of the archangel upon the altar—a por-
Hai OLmEnemMoyelyalsottas oI years
after the strangling of his second wife,
Sigismondo leisurely made Isotta his new
consort.
The story of Francesa da Rimini, one
of the tragedies of the ill-starred house,
so many of whose members perished by
345
violence, was immortalized by Dante in
his Inferno.
RAVENNA OF THE BYZANTINE
ARCHITECTURE
Originally “a city in the sea,” like
Venice, and well-nigh impregnable, Ra-
venna stands today in a marshy plain six
miles away from the coastline. Once a
mighty capital, the city also maintained
a commanding position in art and letters
during the Middle Ages. According to
Professor Ricci, Italian Director General
of Fine Arts, “the most beautiful, the
most complete, and the least impaired
monuments of so-called Byzantine art are
preserved” here.
Mosaics might be called Ravenna’s dis-
tinguishing feature. In one of the city’s
earliest and most interesting buildings,
the fifth century tomb of the Empress
Galla Placidia, they stand sharply out
from a wonderfully blue background.
They are still more beautiful in the
cathedral’s baptistery of the Orthodox,
and full of a clearly Roman spirit of
stateliness and unaffected simplicity,
while in the handsome octagonal Church
of San Vitale they glow with a superbly
rich and gorgeous coloring, especially of
the costumes.
Church after church is adorned with
them, and with exquisitely translucent ala-
baster—behind which lamps were set—
rare cipollino columns, and panels, statues,
and screens of other precious marbles.
Ravenna itself has been stripped of
much of its beauty and importance by the
withdrawal of the sea, but none of its
significance, for its grand and _ stately
buildings link the Roman and Byzantine
styles of architecture perfectly and give
the art-lover of the present both inspira-
tion and delight.
A ROAD 2,100 YEARS IN USE
Exactly 2,103 years ago Marcus A‘mil-
ius Lepidus assured his fame forever by
building the long, broad, straight road
from Rimini through the cities that are
now called Bologna, Modena, Reggio,
Parma, and Piacenza. The road was
named for him, and it still traverses the
district of A‘milia, a favored region of
natural fertility of land and intelligence
WHERE THE CONCORD OF SWEET SOUND IS A RELIGION
When Music was young, her abode, according to the poet, was Greece;
but long since
she was lured by golden-throated sopranos and soulful tenors to the more congenial clime of
Sunny Italy, where
every street urchin is an embryo opera star.
Perhaps some inglorious—
but not mute—Verdi or Puccini, Tetrazzini and Trentini, may here be pictured, lifting their
voices in joyous song to the accompaniment of the idolized accordion.
of inhabitants. Perhaps its prosperity
may be assigned as much to the tide of
life and commerce that flowed along the
Roman road—its work is largely done
today by the railroad that parallels it—
as to its natural resources ; but whatever
the basis, the fact remains that. 4“milia
is full of cities of artistic, social, and
manufacturing importance, rich in paint-
ing, architecture ake sculpture, and
gifted in innumerable other ways; for,
unlike some other provinces, milia has
never concentrated all its abilities in the
greatest towns, but diffuses its energies
so that all centers, of whatever degree,
have an interest and importance that is
almost unique.
Bologna, as important a railway center
today as it once was a halt on the Roman
roads, is a remarkable and interesting
town. The old Roman section, of which
nothing remains above ground, is the
heart of the city, easily recognized be-
cause its streets run at right angles and
all form a big rectangle.
346
rain nor snow, nor
even wind, bothers one much in Bologna,
for many of the streets—most, in fact—
are beautifully arcaded, and one may go,
untouched by varying weather, under the
shady overhangs of shop and palace,
mansion and public edifice, as they make
aisles beside the nave of the sky-roofed
highways. The big, solid piers shadow
the pave like a modern awning-stripe
gown, and the pleasant afternoon and
evening life of the Bolognesi, gossiping
and taking their refreshments at little
tables in these endless galleries, is very
delightful.
The arcades originated as snow-sheds
to shelter the houses from the blizzards
that sweep down from the northern
slopes. Many of them are very beauti-
ful Renaissance structures, with elabor-
ately carved capitals.
The queerest things in town are the
two square brick leaning towers, Gari-
senda and Asinelli—intoxicated obelisks,
one complete, the other unfinished. They -
Neither sun nor
THE LEANING TOWERS OF GARISENDA AND ASINELLA: BOLOGNA
These columns are distinguished as the most extraordinary structures in one of the most
venerable and important cities in Italy. The taller is Torre Asinelli, 320 feet high and 4 feet
out of the perpendicular; Torre Garisenda was never completed and is only 156 feet high,
but 8 feet out of the perpendicular. There is something unnatural and sinister in their appear-
ance, quite different from the effect of the leaning tower of Pisa. Dante in the “Inferno”
compared a giant bending toward him to Torre Garisenda in a cloud (see page 346).
347
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OUTLINE MAP OF ITALY
From the Beginning Nature Set Italy Apart. See pages 273, 274, and 270.
360
JON ED IBLAVUS SIMBAD, IIANE NZ
setting of one of the world’s largest and
most remarkable cathedrals, a_ battle-
ground of the past, with many a stirring
and bloody field to remember, the most
beautiful lake district in the world. It
has also been a mighty force throughout
Italian history.
Geographically speaking, the Lombard
plain, bounded partly on the south by the
Po, in part on the west by its large af-
fluent, the Ticino, is'a rich and fertile
agricultural country, very hot in summer,
but exposed in winter to bitter cold and
fierce mountain storms. Below the
mountains there is very little rain in
summer, but, thanks to the medieval sys-
tem of irrigation, which has no superior
anywhere in Europe, it is almost impos-
sible for the crops to fail.
They grow in three tiers in Lombardy—
pastures in the mountain regions, vines
and fruit trees and chestnuts on the
lower slopes, and shining acres of cereals
and grapes and innumerable spreading
mulberries in the plain itself.
But it is not quite the same Lom-
bardy now that it used to be, for the
medieval sheep for which it was so cele-
brated have all turned with the centuries
into—silkworms ; eugenic worms at that!
The greatest care is taken in crossing and
breeding the native worms eugenically
with perfect Chinese and Japanese stock,
with the result that the Italian worms
are steadily improving and producing
more and better silk.
Beside its agriculture and silk indus-
tries—Milan is the principal silk market
of the world—Lombardy is perhaps the
most important manufacturing region in
the whole country, with great factories
turning out hats, rope, paper, iron and
steel, cannon, linens, woolens, and what-
not; mines from whose depths come cop-
per and zinc and iron ores; quarries that
yield ample marbles and delicate alabaster
and the sturdier granite.
MILAN AND ITS CATHEDRAL
The first thing to strike one in Milan is
its air of cosmopolitan—I might almost
say Yankee—shrewdness and bustle in
business. ‘The commonplace streets are
lined with good shops, and the energetic
people give them the appearance of the
361
streets of a big American manufacturing
city with a large foreign element.
Milan was built in a fairly regular
polygon, surrounded by walls, and the
walls by a moat. The former have
moved out into the country a bit, but the
moat is still there, inclosing thorough-
fares that turn and twist like cowpaths,
though from the Piazza Duomo radiate
some that are newer and broader.
But one does not consider streets
when he reaches the piazza, for there,
white as salt and delicate as a gigantic
filigree jewel fresh from the hands of
the silversmith, the Cathedral of the
Nascent Virgin, a miraculous stalagmite,
yearns upward toward heaven with every
slender, arrowy spire and shaft and pin-
nacle (see pages 362-363).
In many ways it is not good archi-
tecture, and inside it is monotonous
and barren; yet notwithstanding every
criticism, despite obvious faults, the Ca-
thedral of Milan is a marvel. More than
4,000 statutes poise and hover about it; its
lines tend upward as resistlessly as the
spears of a field of wheat; the very num-
ber of them adds to the illusion—a great
work of Nature about whose feet the hu-
man ants in the piazza have dug them-
selves in, reared their tiny hillocks, and
gone bustling and struggling about their
tiny affairs in its protecting shadow.
THE BATTLEFIELDS OF LOMBARDY
The plain of Lombardy is as dotted
with battlefields as most other plains are
with ordinary cities, and whichever way
one looks from Milan some famous day
is almost in sight—Solferino, Magenta,
Rivoli, Lodi, Pavia, Novara—fights that
were not the mere bickerings of bloody-
minded local despots, but combats that
shaped or shook international affairs.
Beside or upon almost every field rises a
city either lovely to look upon or fasci-
nating to read about.
Many other towns there are, too, of
beauty and interest — Bergamo, gifted
with an acropolis and old walls turned
into promenades loved of lovers; Bres-
cia, beautifully situated at the foot of
the frosty Alps; quiet Cremona of the
silk-mills and palaces; little Tavazzano,
where the whole plain is grooved by
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countless and endless little irrigation
ditches ; Monza, where King Humbert I|’s
crown was snatched from him by the as-
sassin’s bullet.
Garda, Idro, Iseo, Como, Lugano, Mag-
giore, and Orta! How can any pen give
a true picture of these exquisite sheets of
water, now sapphire, now emerald, now
iridescent as opals in the sun; here bound
by wild, irregular shores, here by lux-
uriant gardens; splashed with the color
of countless sunny villas, red-roofed and
tinted of wall; guarded by old castles
that molder in grim beauty upon their
grimmer heights !*
SUPERB VISTAS
The islands afford superb vistas of
shore and mountain, but the climax is
the panorama from the top of bald,
windy old Monte Mottarone. From its
bleak crown the eye includes in one
splendid sweep the lovely lakes and
the whole vast plain of Lombardy and
Piedmont, with the white, glistening, pin-
nacled jewel of Milan Cathedral resting
lightly as a white dove in the center—the
genius of Man complementing the glori-
ous works of Nature.
It would be difficult indeed to find two
other contiguous regions so entirely dif-
ferent geographically as the two north-
western provinces of Italy, Piedmont and
Liguria: one a vast bowl, into which are
gathered the slender little blue threads
that unite in the greater cable of the
mighty Po, thus once again emphasizing
the geographical dominance of that re-
markable stream; the other almost all
straight up and down—mountain piled
upon mountain, with a narrow strip of
littoral which takes tribute from all the
world—the Riviera (see map, page 360).
Around three sides of the Piedmon-
tese bowl the Alps fling a towering
barrier, leaving the fertile, rolling plain
open only toward the valley of the
Por on the east, One feature that, at-
tracts attention inevitably is the way it is
settled. The people live in villages or
communes almost entirely—a condition
due to the unfortunate insecurity which
*For a description of the Italian lakes and
Verona and other towns of northern Italy, see
“Frontier Cities of Italy,” by Florence Craig
Albrecht, with 44 illustrations, in the June,
1915, NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE.
365
for ages made the peasantry huddle to-
gether for mutual protection.
GENOA “LA SUPERBA”’
Piedmont never touches the coast, and
what it has left, mostly mountains and
beach, makes up the narrow province of
Liguria, whose boundary leaps along the
mountain tops like a frightened chamois.
It is a region at once remarkably favored
and hindered by Nature.
Near the middle of the strip is Genoa,
the only great community on this rugged
coast, a wonderful crescent city climbing
the hills which protect that magnificent
harbor the Greek adventurers of 2,500
years ago discovered and settled. Be-
hind the town, now close to the houses,
now in wide open spaces, a mighty de-
fensive wall runs along over hill and dale
for nearly 12 miles, defended by the
great fort called the Spur and by many
a stout little battery and fortress.
The ancient part of the town huddles,
cramped and crowded, in many-storied
houses on the steepest, crookedest, most
Dark - Ages - looking streets imaginable,
some of them mere flights of stairs up
stiff acclivities, others mere bridges over
menacing miniature chasms. In brilliant
contrast to all this, the newer city devel-
ops broad,. handsome thoroughfares and
solid, well-constructed modern buildings.
Genoa is the chief seaport and com-
mercial city of Italy, with a harbor and
port facilities which have been extended
and expanded again and again in the
effort to keep pace with the steady
growth of the city’s enormous maritime
commerce. One of her most public-spir-
ited sons, the wealthy Duke of Galliera,
gave no less than $4,000,000 out of his
own pocket to help provide the facilities
needed 40 years ago—and that was only
the beginning. Trade and port have been
growing rapidly and steadily ever since.
Genoa has always been busy, and even -
when she lost the maritime supremacy to
Venice she did not fall asleep, as did
Pisa, but kept on sending out her ships
and men into every sea. One of these
sturdy sailor sons we have cause to
know—Columbus. In the Piazza Acqua-
verde—Greenwater Square—Columbus’s
laggard fellow-townsmen have _ reared
him a colossal statue, with America
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368
kneeling at his feet—but they allowed 370
years to go by before they could bring
themselves to honor the intrepid mariner
whose real monument is no bit of lifeless
stone, but a living, breathing, creative
New World.
THE “GARDEN WALL OF EUROPE”
Along the coast in either direction from
Genoa runs the sunniest, loveliest, most
popular strand in the world, the “garden
wall of Europe,” the Riviera, place of a
thousand delights. It is a sinuously se-
ductive shore, whose iron ribs, pierced
through and through with innumerable
smoky little tunnels, curve down to the
sea; a coast of inexpressibly beautiful
indentations, bays and inlets whose shores
rise in sheer rock or gleam with the rich
verdance of heavy foliage, relieved by
the color of myriad blossoms.
Quaint towns gem it like beads of
parti-colored glass upon a silver thread.
Sheltered behind by their granite hills
from the tempestuous and icy ‘Mistral
that goes roaring out to sea far over-
head, and warmed by the generous
southern sun, these towns—most of
them, like Genoa, half old, half new—are
favorite resorts of pleasure and health
seekers from every clime.
And to the west, looking away toward
the blue shore of beautiful France, for
miles one superb vista after another un-
folds of the intervening coast-line, with
its ragged contours. Olive groves and
old castle ruins, picturesquely situated
towns and tenth century pirate watch-
towers, make preparation for San Remo,
upon terraced slopes whose gray-green
olives shade into the differing hues of the
agaves, oranges, and pomegranates at the
edge of the bay (see page 359).
THE GIFTED MOTHER OF MEN
Beyond lies Bordighera of the exqui-
site flowers and the date palms, and at
the French frontier, hilltop Ventimiglia,
walled about loftily, as if to keep it from
being blown into the sea by the first mis-
chievous zephyr. They are all so lovely,
all so rich with one or another gift, so
mild, so perfumed—with the thousands
of acres of flowers of every description
raised for sale and to supply the perfume
distillers—so productive, that here, in-
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
5)
deed, is “Paradise enow.” And all along
the coastal hills are dotted with the bold
and striking ruins of mighty castles and
strongholds, tombstones of the great and
noble families who once upon a time
dweit here in lordly state. |
As we stand at this western end of the
Riviera and look back and down through
Nature and the years at all the loveliness
and wisdom and fascination of Italy,
what does it all mean; what does it con-
vey? ‘To what extent is the modern the
product of those great periods developed
in “Itaha who hast the fatal
gift of beauty”? History and education
answer alike: Italy has pioneered and
passed on her discoveries for the benefit
of all mankind. Within her borders de-
veloped the two greatest forces of civil-
ization: that Christianity to which, more
or less directly, we owe all our material
and spiritual progress, and the liberation
of human thought and spirit in the tre-
mendous uplift of the Renaissance. Had
Italy never produced aught but these, the
world would still owe her an incalculable
and unpayable debt of gratitude.
If Italy failed to go on with the great
work so nobly begun, our debt is none
the less great. She gave the impulse that
others were able to carry on. And after
a period of quiescence, what is she doing
today? Ask of the bitter, bloodied snows
of the southern Alp; peer into those mist
and cloud-shrouded heights where, as one
man, united Italy is fighting with des-
perate valor for what she and her allies
conceive to be their duty, not merely to
themselves, but to all civilization for all
posterity.
And in peace, as in war, she is. alert,
full of high purpose and the conviction
of service. In her civil life and domestic
affairs we must recognize in her again
those beauties and qualities and charms,
those stern, enduring virtues, as well as
those bewitching coquetries, that so pre-
eminently characterize her as a noble
mother of men, winning as her own bril-
liant skies, patient with the maternal
patience that neither swerves nor falters,
and progressive once more in the en-
deavor to reach the ideals she herself
promulgated so many centuries ago, or
even to go beyond the limits her appar-
ently inexhaustible genius set.
NA
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NATIONAIL
GIEEOGRAIPIHIG
MAGAZINIE
WASHINGTON NOVEMBER, 1916
THE LARGER NORTH AMERICAN MAMMALS
By E. W. NeELson
ASSISTANT CHIEF, U. S. BroLocical SURVEY
With illustrations from paintings by Louis Agassiz Fuertes
Readers of ‘THE GrocraPHic will be glad to learn that this number is the
forerunner of another by Messrs. Nelson and Fuertes to be devoted to the por-
trayal and study of the smaller mammals of our continent. So great is the
potential as well as the practical value along educational lines of this remarkable
series of animal studies that Tur GrocraPutc has not hesitated to expend $40,000
in its publication.
We congratulate our readers who have made such an achieve-
ment possible by their enthusiastic interest and support.
T THE time of its discovery and
A occupation by Europeans, North
America and the bordering seas
teemed with an almost incredible pro-
fusion of large mammalian life. The
hordes of game animals which roamed
the primeval forests and plains of this
continent were the marvel of early ex-
plorers and have been equaled in historic
times only in Africa.
Even beyond the limit of trees, on the
desolate Arctic barrens, vast herds con-
taining hundreds of thousands of caribou
drifted from one feeding ground to an-
other, sharing their range with number-
less smaller companies of musk-oxen.
Despite the dwarfed and scanty vegeta-
tion of this bleak region, the fierce winter
storms and long arctic nights, and the
harrying by packs of white wolves, these
hardy animals continued to hold their
own until the fatal influence of civilized
man was thrown against them.
Southward from the Arctic barrens, in
the neighboring forests of spruce, tama-
rack, birches, and aspens, were multitudes
of woodland caribou and moose. Still
farther south, in the superb forests of
eastern North America, and ranging
thence over the limitless open plains of
the West, were untold millions of buffalo,
elk, and white-tailed deer, with the prong-
horned antelope replacing the white-tails
on the western plains.
With this profusion of large game,
which afforded a superabundance of food,
there was a corresponding abundance of
large carnivores, as wolves, coyotes, black
and grizzly bears, mountain lions, and
lynxes. Black bears were everywhere ex-
cept on the open plains, and numerous
species of grizzlies occupied all the moun-
tainous western part of the continent.
Fur-bearers, including beavers, musk-
rats, land-otters, sea-otters, fishers, mar-
tens, minks, foxes, and others, were so
plentiful in the New World that immedi-
ately after the colonization of the United
States and Canada a large part of the
world’s supply of furs was obtained here.
Trade with the Indians laid the foun-
dations of many fortunes, and later devel-
Photograph by Capt. F. E. Kleinschmidt
TOWING HER BABY TO SAFETY
When a mother polar bear scents danger she jumps into the water and her cub holds
fast to her tail while she tows it to safety.
But when no danger seems to threaten she wants
it to “paddle its own canoe,” and boxes its ears or ducks its head under water if it insists
on being too lazy to swim for itself.
oped almost imperial organizations, like
the Hudson’s Bay Company and its rivals.
Many adventurous white men became
trappers and traders, and through their
energy, and the rivalry of the trading
companies, we owe much of the first ex-
ploration of the northwestern and north-
ern wilderness. The stockaded fur-trad-
ing stations were the outposts of civiliza-
tion across the continent to the shores of
Oregon and north to the Arctic coast. At
the same time the presence of the sea-
otter brought the Russians to occupy the
Aleutian Islands, Sitka, and even north-
ern California.
The wealth of mammal life in the seas
along the shores of North America al-
most equaled that on the land. On the
east coast there were many millions of
harp and hooded seals and walruses,
while the Greenland right and other
whales were extremely abundant. On the
west coast were millions of fur seals, sea-
lions, sea-elephants, and walruses, with
an equal abundance of whales and hun-
dreds of thousands of sea otters.
Many of the chroniclers dealing with
explorations and life on the frontier dur-
ing the early period of the occupation of
America gave interesting details concern-
ing the game animals. Allouez says that
in 1680, between Lake Erie and Lake
386
Photograph by Capt. F..E. Nleinschmidt
A SWIMMING POLAR BEAR
bear when swimming does not use his hind legs, a new fact brought out by the
motion-picture camera
387
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MONARCHS OF THE PLAIN”
© Keystone View Co.
> BRITISH COLUMBIA
A remnant of the veritable sea of wild life that surged over American soil before the dikes
of civilization compassed it about and all but wiped it out
Michigan the prairies were filled with an
incredible number of bears, wapiti, white-
tailed deer, and turkeys, on which the
wolves made fierce war. He adds that on
a number of occasions this game was so
little wild that it was necessary to fire
shots to protect the party from it. Perrot
states that during the winter of 1670-
1671, 2,400 moose were snared on the
Great Manitoulin Island, at the head of
Lake Huron. Other travelers, even down
to the last century, give similar accounts
of the abundance of game.
TRAINS HELD UP BY BUFFALO
The original buffalo herds have been
estimated to have contained from 30,000,-
000 to 60,000,000 animals, and in 1870 it
was estimated that about 5,500,000 still
survived. A number of men now living
were privileged to see some of the great
herds of the West before they were finally
destroyed. Dr. George Bird Grinnell
writes:
“In 1870, I happened to be on a train
that was stopped for three hours to let
a herd of buffalo pass. We supposed
they would soon pass by, but they kept
coming. On a number of occasions in
earlier days the engineers thought that
they could run through the herds, and
that, seeing the locomotive, the buffalo
would stop or turn aside; but after a few
locomotives had been ditched by the ani-
mals the engineers got in the way of re-
specting the buffaloes’ idiosyncrasies. .. .
“Up to within a few years, in northern
Montana and southern Alberta, old buf-
falo trails have been very readily trace-
able by the eye, even as one passed on a
railroad train. These trails, fertilized by
the buffalo and deeply cut so as to long
hold moisture, may still be seen in sum-
mer as green lines winding up and down
the hills to and from the water-courses.”
Concerning the former abundance of
antelope, Dr. Grinnell says: “For many
years I have held the opinion that in early
days on the plains, as I saw them, ante-
lope were much more abundant than _buf-
falo. Buffalo, of course, being big and
black, were impressive if seen in masses
and were visible a long way off. Ante-
lope, smaller and less conspicuous in
color, were often passed unnoticed, ex-
cept by..a person of experience, who
389
ek
390
. Kleinschmidt
Y ASK ONLY TO BE LET ALONE
4
Photograph by E.
a
o
4
HE
OOKING, WITH THEIR LONG TUSKS, ‘an
4
4
4
THOUGH FORMIDABLI
FRONT:
4
nN
4
A WALRUS BATTLI
might recognize that distant
white dots might be antelope
and not buffalo bones or puff
balls. I used to talk on this
subject with men who were
on the plains in the ’60’s and
70's, and all agreed that, so
far as their judgment went,
there were more antelope than
buffalo. Often the buffalo
were bunched up into thick
herds and gave the impression
of vast numbers. ‘The ante-
lope were scattered, and, ex-
cept in winter, when I have
seen herds of thousands, they
were pretty evenly distributed
over the prairie.
i
ANTELOPES EVERYWHERE
“T have certain memories of
travel on the plains, when for
the whole long day one would
pass a continual succession of
small bands of antelope, num-
bering from ten to fifty or
sixty, those at a little distance
paying no attention to the
traveler, while those nearer at
hand loped lazily and uncon-
cernedly out of the way. In
the year 1879, in certain val-
leys in North Park, Colorado,
I saw wonderful congregations
of antelope. As. fan jasiawe
could see in any direction, all
over the basins, there were
antelope in small or consider-
able groups. In one of these
places I examined with care
the trails made by them, for
this was the only place where
I ever saw deeply worn ante-
lope trails, which suggested
the buffalo trails of the
plains.”
The wealth of animal life
found by our forebears was
one of the great natural re-
sources of the New World.
Although freely drawn upon
from the first, the stock was
but little depleted up to within
a century. During the last one
hundred years, however, the
rapidly increasing occupation
of the continent and other
Photograph by Albert Schlechten
A CINNAMON TREED: YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK
Bruin for the most part is an inoffensive beast, with an impelling curiosity and such a taste
for sweet things that he can eat pounds of honey and lick his chops for more
39!
Photograph by E. C. Oberholtzer
MOOSE FEEDING UNDER DIFFICULTIES
The moose likes the succulent water plants it finds at the bottom of lakes and sluggish
streams, and often when reaching for them becomes completely submerged
392
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is ee
Phoroetaph lye tie C. Se
COW MOOSE WITH HER YOUNG
Notice the fold of skin at her neck resembling a bell
causes, together with a steadily increas-
ing commercial demand for animal prod-
ucts, have had an appalling effect. The
buffalo, elk, and antelope are reduced to
a pitiful fraction of their former count-
less numbers.
WANTON WASTE OF WILD LIFE
Practically all other large game has
alarmingly decreased, and its extermina-
tion has been partly stayed only by the
recent enforcement of protective laws.
It is quite true that the presence of wild
buffalo, for instance, in any region occu-
pied for farming and stock-raising pur-
poses is incompatible with such use. Thus
the extermination of the bison as a deni-
zen of our western plains was inevitable.
The destruction, however, of these noble
game animals by millions for their hides
only furnishes a notable example of the
wanton wastefulness which has hereto-
fore largely characterized the handling
of our wild life.
A like disregard for the future has
been shown in the pursuit of the sea
mammals. The whaling and sealing 1n-
dustries are very ancient, extending back
for a thousand years or more; but the
greatest and most ruthless destruction of
the whales and seals has come within the
last century, especially through the use
of steamships and bomb-guns. \Vithout
adequate international protection, there is
grave danger that the most valuable of
these sea mammals will be exterminated.
The fur seal and the sea-elephant, once
so abundant on the coast of southern
California, are nearly or quite gone, and
the sea otter of the North Pacific is dan-
gerously near extinction.
The recent great abundance of large
land mammals in North America, both in
individuals and species, is in striking con-
trast with their scarcity in South Amer-
ica, the difference evidently being due to
the long isolation of the southern conti-
nent from other land-masses, whence it
393
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394
395
Photograph by W. J. Stroud
AN UNUSUAL ELK PICTURE
Photograph by Charles Ek. Johnson
THE MOOSE IS A POWERFUL SWIMMER
Photograph by F. O. Seabury
PART OF A HERD OF SIXTY MOUNTAIN SHEEP
They are fed hay and salt daily at the Denver and Rio Grande Railway station at Ouray,
Colorado. This picture was taken at a distance of about 10 to 15 feet from the wild animals,
which grow quite tame under such friendly ministrations.
390
From a drawing by Charles R.
Knight
A MOOSE THAT LIVED IN NEW JERSEY IN PLEISTOCENE TIMES: CROVALCES
A primitive moose-like form, a nearly perfect skeleton of which was found in southern
Jersey some years ago.
In size and general proportions the animal was like a modern
moose, but the nose was less developed, and the horns were decidedly different in character.
might have been restocked after the loss
of a formerly existing fauna.
SPECIES COME AND SPECIES GO
The differences in the geographic dis-
tribution of mammal life between North
and South America and the relationships
between our fauna and that of the Old
World are parts of the latest chapter of
a wonderful story running back through
geologic ages. The former chapters are
recorded in the fossil beds of all the con-
tinents. While only a good beginning has
been made in deciphering these records,
enough has been done by the fascinating
researches of Marsh, Cope, Osborn,
Scott, and others to prove that in all parts
39
>
of the earth one fauna has succeeded an-
other in marvelous procession.
It has been shown also that these
changes in animal life, accompanied by
equal changes in plant life, have been
largely brought about by variations in
climate and by the uplifting and depress-
ing of continental land-masses above or
below the sea. The potency of climatic
influence on animal life is so great that
even a fauna of large mammals will be
practically destroyed over a great area
by a long-continued change of a com-
paratively few degrees (probably less
than ten degrees Fahrenheit) in the mean
daily temperatures.
The distribution of both recent and
THEIR LIVING LIES
All nature loves kindness and trusts the gentle hand.
BENEATH THE
Photograph by Gus A. Swanson
SNOW
Contrast these sheep, ready to fly
at the slightest noise, with those in the picture on page 306, peacefully feeding in close
proximity to a standing express train.
animal more than the trophy of a dead one!
fossil mammals shows conclusively that
numberless species have spread from
their original homes across land bridges
to remote unoccupied regions, where they
have become isolated as the bridges dis-
appeared beneath the waves of the sea.
VAST NATURAL MUSEUMS OF
ANIMAL LIFE
EXTINCT
For ages Asia appears to have served
as a vast and fecund nursery for new
Every one appreciates a good picture of a living
mammals from which North Temperate
and Arctic America have been supplied.
The last and comparatively recent land
bridge, across which came the ancestors
of our moose, elk, caribou, prong-horned
antelope, mountain goats, mountain sheep,
musk-oxen, bears, and many other mam-
mals, was in the far Northwest, where
Bering Straits now form a shallow chan-
nel only 28 miles wide separating Siberia
from Alaska.
308
The fossil beds of the Great
Plains and other parts of the
West contain eloquent proofs of
the richness and variety of mam-
mal life on this continent at dif-
ferent periods in the past. Per-
haps the most wonderful of all
these ancient faunas was that re-
vealed by the bones of birds and
mammals which had been trapped
in the asphalt pits recently dis-
covered in the outskirts of Los
Angeles, California. These bones
show that prior to the arrival of
the present fauna the plains of
southern California swarmed
with an astonishing wealth of
strange birds and beasts (see
page 401).
The most notable of these are
saber-toothed tigers, lions much
larger than those of Africa;
giant wolves; several kinds of
bears, including the huge cave |
bears, even larger than the gi-
gantic brown bears of Alaska;
large wild horses; camels; bison
(unlike our buffalo) ; tiny ante-
dope, the size of a fox; masto-
dons, mammoths with tusks 15
feet long; and giant ground sloths; in
addition to many other species, large and
small.
With these amazing mammals were
equally strange birds, including, among
numerous birds of prey, a giant vulture-
like species (far larger than any condor),
peacocks, and many others.
DID MAN LIVE THEN?
The geologically recent existence of
this now vanished fauna is evidenced by
the presence in the asphalt pits of bones
of the gray fox, the mountain lion, and
close relatives of the bobcat and coyote,
as well as the condor, which still frequent
that region, and thus link the past with
the present. The only traces of the an-
cient vegetation discovered in these as-
phalt pits are a pine and two species of
juniper, which are members of the exist-
ing flora.
There is reason for believing that prim-
itive man occupied California and other
parts of the West during at least the lat-
ter part of the period when the fauna of
the asphalt pits still flourished. Dr. C.
Hart Merriam informs me that the folk-
“Howdy-do!
“What do I care!
Photograph by L,. Peterson
INTRODUCING A LITTLE BLACK BEAR TO A LITTLE
BROWN BEAR AT SEWARD, ALASKA
I ain’t got a bit of use for you!”
You'd better back away, black bear!”
lore of the locally restricted California
Indians contains detailed descriptions of
a beast which is unmistakably a bison,
probably the bison of the asphalt pits.
The discovery in these pits of the bones
of a gigantic vulturelike bird of prey of
far greater size than the condor is even
more startling, since the folk-lore of the
Eskimos and Indians of most of the tribes
from Bering Straits to California and the
Rocky Mountain region abound in tales
of the “thunder-bird’’—a gigantic bird of
prey like a mighty eagle, capable of carry-
ing away people in its talons. ‘Two such
coincidences suggest the possibility that
the accounts of the bison and the ‘“‘thun-
der-bird” are really based on the originals
of the asphalt beds and have been passed
down in legendary history through many
thousands of years.
CAMELS AND HORSES ORIGINATED IN
NORTH AMERICA
Among other marvels our fossil beds
reveal the fact that both camels and
horses originated in North America.
The remains of many widely different
species of both animals have been found
399
in numerous localities extending from
coast to coast in the United States.
Camels and horses, with many species of
antelope closely related to still existing
forms in Africa, abounded over a large
part of this country up to the end of the
geological age immediately preceding the
present era.
Then eanomg La imperfectly understood
changes of environment a tremendous
mortality among the wild life took place
and destroyed practically all of the splen-
did large mammals, which, however, have
_left their records in the asphalt pits of
California and other fossil beds through-
out the country. This original fauna was
followed by an influx of other ‘species
which made up the fauna when America
was discovered.
At the time of its discovery by Colum-
bus this continent had only one domesti-
In most in-
stances the ancestors of the Indian dogs
appear to have been the native coyotes
or gray wolves, but the descriptions of
some dogs found by early explorers indi-
car very different and unknown ancestry.
Unfortunately these strange dogs became
eimee at an early period, and thus left
unsolvable the riddle of their origin.
Before the discovery of America the
people of the Old World had domesti-
cated cattle, horses, pigs, sheep, goats,
dogs, and cats; but none of these do-
mestic animals, except the dog, existed in
America until brought from Europe by
the invaders of the New World.
The wonderful fauna of the asphalt
pits had vanished long before America
was first colonized by white men, and had
been replaced by another mainly from
the Old World, less varied in character,
but enormously abundant in individuals.
Although 80 many North American mam-+
mals were derived from Asia, some came
from South America, while others, as the
raccoons, originated here.
Photograph by Carl J. Lomen
RD, AS ‘TILIS PICTURE WAS TAKIN
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FEWER LARGE MAMMALS IN THE TROPICS.
It is notable that the fossil beds which
prove the existence of an extraordinary
abundance of large mammals in North
America at various periods in the past,
as well as the enormous aggregation of
mammalian life which occupied ‘this con-
tinent, both on land and at sea, at the time
of its discovery, were confined to the
Temperate and Arctic Zones. It is popu-
TIERD A’T CAPE:
A REINDEER
400
I'rom Scott’s ‘
TATS “REPRESENTS A SCENE AT THE
‘Tlistory of the Land Marminale: of the Ww estern Hemisphere”’:
CALIFORNIA
Macmillan Cine
ASPHALT PITS, WITH A MIRED
ELEPHANT, TWO GIANT WOLVES, AND A SABER-TOOTHED TIGER (SEE PAGE 399)
larly believed that the tropics possess an
exuberance of life beyond that of other
climes, yet in no tropic lands or seas, ex-
cept in parts of Africa and southern
Asia, has there been developed such an
abundance of large mammal life as these
northern latitudes have repeatedly known.
In temperate and arctic lands such
numbers of large mammals could exist
only where the vegetation not only suf-
ficed for summer needs, but retained its
nourishing qualities through the winter.
In the sea the vast numbers of seals, sea-
lions, walruses, and whales of many kinds
could be maintained only by a limitless
profusion of fishes and other marine life.
From the earliest appearance of mam-
mals on the globe to comparatively recent
times one mammalian fauna has suc-
ceeded another in the regular sequence of
evolution, man appearing late on the
scene and being subject to the same nat-
ural influences as his mammalian kindred.
During the last few centuries, however.
through the development of agriculture,
the invention of new methods of trans-
portation, and of modern firearms, so-
4ol
called civilized man has spread over and
now dominates most parts of the earth.
As a result, aboriginal man and the
large mammals of continental areas have
been, or are being, swept away and re-
placed by civilized man and his domestic
animals. Orderly evolution of the mar-
velously varied mammal life in a state of
nature is thus being brought to an abrupt
end. Henceforth fossil beds containing
deposits of mammals caught in sink-
holes, and formed by river and other
floods in subarctic, temperate, and trop-
ical parts of the earth, will contain more
and more exclusively the bones of man
and his domesticated horses, cattle, and
sheep.
DESTROYING THE IRRESTORABLE
‘The splendid mammals which possessed
the earth until man interfered were the
ultimate product of Nature working
through the ages that have elapsed since
the dawn of life. All of them show
myriads of exquisite adaptations to their
environment in color, form, organs, and
habits. ‘The wanton destruction of any
of these species thus deprives the world
of a marvelous organism which no hu-
man power can ever restore.
Fortunately, although it is too late to
save many notable animals, the leading
nations of the world are rapidly awaken-
ing toa proper appreciation of the value
and significance of wild life. As a con-
sequence, while the superb herds of game
on the limitless plains will vanish, sports-
men and nature lovers, aided by those
who appreciate the practical value of wild
life as an asset, may work successfully to
provide that the wild places shall not be
left wholly untenanted.
Although Americans have been notably
wasteful of wild life, even to the extermi-
nation of numerous species of birds and
mammals, yet they are now leading the
world in efforts to conserve what is left
of the original fauna. No civilized peo-
ple, with the exception of the South Af-
rican Boers, have been such a nation of
hunters as those of the United States.
Most hunters have a keen appreciation of
nature, and American sportsmen as a
402
From a drawing by Charles R. Knight
A PRIMITIVE FOUR-TUSKED ELEPHANT, STANDING ABOUT SIX FEET AT THE SHOULDER,
THAT LIVED AGES AGO IN THE UNITED STATES (TRICOPHODON MIOCENE)
class have become ardent supporters of
a nation-wide movement for the conser-
vation of wild life.
SAVING OUR WILD LIFE
Several strong national organizations
are doing great service in forwarding the
conservation of wild life, as the National
Geographic Society, the National Asso-
ciation of Audubon Societies, American
Bison Society, Boone and Crockett Club,
New York Zoological Society, American
Game Protective and Propagation Asso-
ciation, Permanent Wild Life Protective
Fund, and others. In addition, a large
number of unofficial State organizations
have been formed to assist in this work.
Through the authorization by Congress,
the Federal Government is actively en-
gaged in efforts for the protection and in-
crease of our native birds and mammals.
This work is done mainly through the
Bureau of Biological Survey of the U. 5S.
Department of Agriculture, which is in
charge of the several Federal large-game
A GROTESQUE CREATURE THAT ONCE LIVED IN THE UNITED STATES (UERTATHERIUM
EOCENE, MIDDLE WYOMING)
It had six horns on the head and, in some species, two long canine teeth projecting down-
ward from the upper jaw.
and teeth resemble nothing on earth today.
preserves and nearly seventy bird reser-
vations.
On the large-game preserves are herds
of buffalo, elk, deer, and antelope. The
Yellowstone National Park, under the
Department of the Interior, is one of the
most wonderfully stocked game preserves
in the world. In this beautiful tract of
forest, lakes, rivers, and mountains live
many moose, elk, deer, antelope, moun-
tain sheep, black and grizzly bears,
wolves, coyotes, mountain lions, and
lynxes.
Practically all of the States have game
and fish commissions in one form or an-
other, with a warden service for the pro-
tection of game, and large numbers of
State game preserves have been estab-
lished. The increasing occupation of the
country, the opening up of wild places,
403
The feet were somewhat like those of an elephant, but the skull
and the destruction of forests are rapidly
restricting available haunts for game.
This renders particularly opportune the
present and increasing wide-spread inter-
est in the welfare of the habitants of the
wilderness.
The national forests offer an unrivaled
opportunity for the protection and in-
crease of game along broad and effective
lines. At present the title to game mam-
mals is vested in the States, among which
great differences in protective laws and
their administration in many cases jeop-
ardize the future game supply.
If a cooperative working arrangement
could be effected between the States and
the Department of Agriculture, whereby
the Department would have supervision
and control over the game on the national
forests, so far as concerns its protection
THE PRIMITIVE FOUR-TOED HORSE
The so-called four-toed horse,
having four well-detined
(EOHIPPUS,
From a drawing by Charles R. Knight
LOWER EOCENE, WYOMING )
’
a little creature some 12 inches in height at the shoulder,
hoofs on the front foot and three on the hind foot.
The animal
is not a true horse, but was undoubtedly an ancestor (more or less direct) of the modern
been a very speedy type, which contributed greatly to the preservation
of the species in an age when (so iar as we know) the carnivores were rather slow and
form. It must have
clumsy.
and the designation of hunting areas,
varying the quantity of game to be taken
from definite areas in accordance with its
abundance from season to season, while
the States would control open seasons for
shooting, the issuance of hunting licenses,
and similar local matters, the future wel-
fare of large game in the Western States
would be assured.
Under such an arrangement the game
supply would be handled on business
principles. When game becomes scarce
Sc
404
in any restricted area, hunting could be
suspended until the supply becomes re-
newed, while increased hunting could be
allowed in areas where there is sufficient
game to warrant it. In brief, big game
could be handled by the common-sense
methods now used so effectively in the
stock industry on the open range. At
present the lack of a definite “general
policy to safeguard our game supply and
the resulting danger to our splendid na-
tive animals are deplorably in evidence.
A TRUE HORSE WHICH WAS FOUND IN THE FOSSIL BEDS OF TEXAS: PLEISTOCENE
It is interesting to note that this country was possessed of several species of wild horses,
but these died out long before the advent of the Indian on this continent. The present wild
horses of our western plains are merely stragglers from the herds brought over by the
Spaniards and other settlers. When Columbus discovered America there were no horses
on the continent, though in North America horses and camels originated (see text, page 300).
From drawings by Charles R. Knight
THE, FOREST HORSE OF NORTH AMERICA (HYPOHIPPOS MIOCENE)
This animal is supposed to have inhabited heavy undergrowth. It was somewhat off the true
horse ancestry and had three rather stout toes on both the fore and hind feet.
405
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408
OPOSSUM, VIRGINIA OPOSSUM (Di-
delphis virginiana and its subspecies)
The opossums are the American representa-
tives of the ancient order of Marsupials—a
wonderfully varied group of mammals now
limited to America and Australasia. ‘Through-
out the order the young are born in an embry-
onic condition and are transferred to teats
located in an external pocket or pouch in the
skin of the abdomen, where they complete their
development. The kangaroos are among the
most striking members of this group.
Numerous species of opossums are known,
all peculiar to America and distributed from
the eastern United States to Patagonia. The
Virginia opossum, the largest of all the spe-
cies, is characterized by its coarse hair, pig-
like snout, naked ears, and long, hairless, pre-
hensile tail. Its toes are long, slender, and so
widely spread that its footprints on the muddy
border of a stream or in a dusty trail show
every toe distinctly, as in a bird track, and are
unmistakably different from those of any other
mammal.
This is the only species of opossum occur-
ring in the United States, where it occupies all
the wooded eastern parts from eastern New
York, southern Wisconsin, and eastern Ne-
braska south to the Gulf coast and into the
tropics. It has recently been introduced in
central. California. Although scarce in the
northern parts of its range, it is abundant and
well known in the warmer Southern States.
These animals love the vicinity of water, and
are most numerous in and about swamps or
other wet lowlands and along bottom-lands
bordering streams. ‘They have their dens in
hollow trees, in holes under the roots of trees,
or in similar openings where they may hide
away by day. ‘Their food consists of almost
everything, animal or vegetable, that is edible,
including chickens, which they capture in noc-
turnal raids.
The Virginia opossums have from 5 to I4
young, which at first are formless, naked little
objects, so firmly attached to the teats in the
mother’s pouch that they can not be shaken
loose. Later, when they attain a coating of
hair, they are miniature replicas of the adults,
but continue to occupy the pouch until the
swarming family becomes too large for it.
The free toes of opossums are used like hands
for grasping, and the young cling firmly to the
fur of their mother while being carried about
in her wanderings.
They are rather slow-moving, stupid animals,
which seek safety by their retiring nocturnal
habits and by non-resistance when overtaken
by an enemy. ‘This last trait gave origin to
the familiar term “playing possum,’ and is
illustrated by their habit of dropping limp and
apparently lifeless when attacked. Despite this
apparent lack of stamina, their vitality is extra-
ordinary, rendering them difficult to kill.
While hunting at daybreak, I once encoun-
tered an unusually large old male opossum on
his way home from a night in the forest.
When we met, he immediately stopped and
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
stood with hanging head and tail and half-
closed eyes. I walked up and, after watching
him for several minutes without seeing the
slightest movement, put my foot against his
side and gave a slight push. He promptly fell
flat and lay limp and apparently dead. I then
raised him and tried to put him on his feet
again, but his legs would no. longer support
him, and I failed in other tests to obtain the
slightest sign of life.
The opossum has always been a favorite
game animal in the Southern States, and fig-
ures largely in the songs and folk-lore of the
southern negroes. In addition, its remarkable
peculiarities have excited so much popular in-
terest that it has become one of the most
widely known of American animals.
RACCOON (Procyon lotor and its sub-
species)
Few American wild animals are more widely
known or excite more popular interest than
the raccoon. It is a short, heavily built animal
with a club-shaped tail, and with hind feet that
rest flat on the ground, like those of a bear,
and make tracks that have a curious resem-
blance to those of a very small child. Its front
toes are long and well separated, thus permit-
ting the use of the front feet with almost the
facility of a monkey’s hands.
Raccoons occupy most of the wooded parts
of North America from the southern border
of Canada. to Panama, with the exception of
the higher mountain ranges. In the United
States they are most plentiful in the South-
eastern and Gulf States and on the Pacific
coast. Under the varying climatic conditions
of their great range a number of geographic
races have developed, all of which have a close
general resemblance in habits and appearante.
They everywhere seek the wooded shores of
streams and lakes and the bordering lowland
forests and are expert tree-climbers, com-
monly having their dens in hollow trees, often
in cavities high above the ground. In such re-
treats they have annually from four to six
young, which continue to frequent this retreat
until well grown, thus accounting for the num-
bers often found in the same cavity. Although
tree-frequenting animals, the greater part of
their activities is confined to the ground, espe-
cially along the margins of water-courses.
While almost wholly nocturnal in habits, they
are occasionally encountered abroad during the
day.
Their diet is extraordinarily varied, and in-
cludes fresh-water clams, crawfish, frogs, tur-
tles, birds and their eggs, poultry, nuts, fruits,
and green corn. When near water they have
a curious and unique habit of washing their
food before eating it. Their fondness for
green corn leads them into frequent danger,
for when bottom-land cornfields tempt them
away from their usual haunts raccoon hunting
with dogs at night becomes an especially fa-
vored sport.
Raccoons are extraordinarily intelligent ani-
mals and make interesting and amusing pets.
won itt iGici NHL EEN
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OPOSSUM
RACCOON
409
410
During captivity their restless intelligence is
shown by the curiosity with which they care-
fully examine every strange object. They are
particularly attracted by anything bright or
shining, and a piece of tin fastened to the pan
of a trap serves as a successful lure in trap-
ping them.
They patrol the border of streams and lakes
so persistently that where they are common
they sometimes make well-trodden little trails,
and many opened mussel shells or other signs
of their feasts may be found on the tops of
fallen logs or about stones projecting above
the water. In the northern part of their range
they hibernate during the coldest parts of the
winter, but in the South are active throughout
the year.
Raccoons began to figure in our frontier lit-
erature at an early date. ‘“Coon-skin” caps,
with the ringed tails hanging like plumes, made
the favorite headgear of many pioneer hunters,
and “coon skins” were a recognized article of
barter at country stores. Now that the in-
creasing occupation of the country is crowding
out more and more of our wild life, it is a
pleasure to note the persistence with which
these characteristic and interesting animals
continue to hold their own in so much of their
original range.
CANADA LYNX (Lynx canadensis)
The lynxes are long-legged, short-bodied
cats, with tufted ears and a short “bobbed”
tail. They are distributed from the northern
limit of trees south into the Temperate Zone
throughout most of the northern part of both
Old and New Worlds. In North America
there are two types—the smaller animal, south-
ern in distribution, and the larger, or Canada
lynx, limited to the north, where its range ex-
tends from the northern limit of trees south to
the northern border of the United States. It
once occupied all the mountains of New Eng-
land and south in the Alleghenies to Pennsyl-
vania. In the West it is still a habitant of the
Rocky Mountains as far south as Colorado,
and of the Sierra Nevada nearly to Mount
Whitney.
The Canada lynx is notable for the beauty
of its head, one of the most striking among all
our carnivores. This species is not only much
larger than its southern neighbor, the bay
lynx, but may also be distinguished from it by
its long ear tips, thick legs, broad spreading
feet, and the complete jet-black end of the tail.
It is about 3 feet long and weighs from 15 to
over 30 pounds. As befits an animal of the
great northern forests, it has a long thick coat
of fur, which gives it a remarkably fluffy ap-
pearance. Its feet in winter are heavily furred
above and below and are so broad that they
serve admirably for support in deep snow,
through which it would otherwise have to
wade laboriously.
This animal does not attack people, though
popular belief often credits it with such action.
It feeds mainly on such small prey as varying
hares, mice, squirrels, foxes, and the grouse
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
and other birds living in its domain; but on
occasion it even kills animals as large as moun-
tain sheep. One such feat was actually wit-
nessed above timberline in winter on a spur
of Mount McKinley. The lynx sprang from a
ledge as the sheep passed below, and, holding
on the sheep’s neck and shoulders, it reached
forward and by repeatedly biting put out its
victim’s eyes, thus reducing it to helplessness.
The chief food of the Canada lynx is the
varying hare, which throughout the North
periodically increases to the greatest abun-
dance and holds its numbers for several years.
During these periods the fur sales in the Lon-
don market show that the number of lynx
skins received increases proportionately with
those of the hare. When an epizootic disease
appears, as it does regularly, and almost ex-
terminates the hares, there is an immediate
and corresponding drop in the number of lynx
skins sent to market. This evidences one of
Nature’s great tragedies, not only among the
overabundant hares, but among the lynxes, for
with the failure of their food supply over a
vast area tens of thousands of them perish of
starvation.
The Canada lynx has from two to five kit-
tens, which are marked with dusky spots and
short bands, indicating an ancestral relation-
ship to animals similar to the ocelot, or tiger-
cat, of the American tropics. The young usu-
ally keep with the mother for nearly a year.
Such families no doubt form the hunting par-
ties whose rabbit drives on the Yukon Islands
were described to me by the fur traders and
Indians of the Yukon Valley.
During sledge trips along the lower Yukon
I often saw the distinctive broad, rounded
tracks of lynxes, showing where they had wan-
dered through the forests or crossed the wide,
snow-covered river channel. Here and there,
as the snow became very deep and soft, the
tracks showed where a series of leaps had
been made. Lynx trails commonly led from
thicket to thicket where hares, grouse, or other
game might occur. Canada lynxes appear to be
rather stupid animals, for they are readily
caught in traps, or even in snares, and, like
most cats, make little effort to escape.
BOBCAT, OR BAY LYNX (Lynx ruffus
and its subspecies)
The bay lynx, bobcat, or wildcat, as Lynx
ruffus and its close relatives are variously
called in different parts of the country, is one
of the most widely distributed and best known
of our wild animals. It is about two-thirds
the size of the Canada lynx and characterized
by much slenderer proportions, especially in its
legs and feet. The ears are less conspicuously
tufted and the tip of the tail is black only on
its upper half. Bobcats range from Nova
Scotia and southern British Columbia over
practically all of the weeded and brushy parts
of the United States except along the northern
border, and extend south to the southern end
of the high table-land of Mexico.
From the earliest settlement of America the
CANADA LYNX
BOBCAT (Bay Lynx)
411
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bobcat has figured largely in hunting literature,
and the popular estimate of its character is well
attested by the frontier idea of the superlative
physical prowess of a man who can “whip his
weight in wildcats.’ Although our wildcat
usually weighs less than 20 pounds, if its re-
puted fierceness could be sustained it would be
an awkward foe. But, so far as man is con-
cerned, unless it is cornered and forced to de-
fend itself, it is extremely timid and inof-
fensive.
Like all cats, it is very muscular and active,
and to the rabbits, squirrels, mice, grouse, and
other small game upon which it feeds is a per-
sistent and remorseless enemy. Although an
expert tree-climber, it spends most of its time
on the ground, where it ordinarily seeks its
prey. It is most numerous in districts where
birds and small mammals abound, and parts of
California seem especially favorable for it. Ata
mountain ranch in the redwood forest south of
San Francisco one winter some boys with dogs
killed more than eighty bobcats.
Ordinarily the bobcat seems to be rather un-
common, but its nocturnal habits usually pre-
vent its real numbers being actually known.
In districts where not much hunted it is not
uncommonly seen abroad by day, especially in
winter, when driven by hunger.
The bay lynx makes its den in hollows in
trees, in small caves, and in openings among
rock piles wherever quiet and safety appear
assured. Although a shy animal, it persists in
settled regions if sufficient woodland or broken
country remains to give it shelter. From such
retreats it sallies forth at night, and not only
do the chicken roosts of careless householders
suffer, but toll is even taken among the lambs
of sheep herds.
As in the case of most small cats, the stealthy
hunting habits of the bay lynx renders it ex-
cessively destructive to ground-frequenting
birds, especially to quail, grouse, and other
game birds. For this reason, like many of its
kind, it is outlawed in all settled parts of the
country.
MOUNTAIN LION (Felis couguar and its
subspecies)
The mountain lion, next to the jaguar, is the
largest of the cat tribe native to America. In
various parts of its range it is also known as
the panther, cougar, and puma. It is a slender-
bodied animal with a small head and a long
round tail, with a total length varying from
seven to nine feet and a weight from about
150 to 200 pounds.
It has from two to five young, which are
paler brown than the adult and plainly marked
Brith large dusky spots on the body and with
dark bars on the tail. These special markings
of the young, as in other animals, are ances-
tral, and here appear to indicate that in the
remote past our plain brown panther was a
spotted cat somewhat like the leopard.
No other American mammal has a range
equal to that of the mountain lion. It origi-
nally inhabited both North and South America
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
from southern Quebec and Vancouver Island
to Patagonia and from the Atlantic to the Pa-
cific coasts. Within this enormous territory
it appears to be equally at home in an extra-
ordinary variety of conditions. Formerly it
was rather common in the Adirondacks of
northern New York and still lives in the high
Rocky Mountains of the West, where it en-
dures the rigors of the severest winter tem-
peratures. It is generally distributed, where
large game occurs, in the treeless ranges of the
most arid parts of the southwestern deserts,
and is also well known in the most humid trop-
ical forests of Central and South America,
whose gloomy depths are drenched by almost
continual rain.
A number of geographic races of the species
have been developed by the varied character
of its haunts. These are usually characterized
by differences in size and by paler and grayer
shades in the arid regions and by darker and
browner ones in the humid areas.
The mountain lion, while powerful enough
to be dangerous to man, is in reality extremely
timid. Owing to its being a potentially dan-
gerous animal, the popular conception of it is
that of a fearsome beast, whose savage exploits
are celebrated in the folk-lore of our frontier.
As a matter of fact, few wild animals are less
dangerous, although there are authentic ac-
counts of wanton attacks upon people, just as
there are authentic instances of buck deer and
moose becoming aggressive. It has a wild,
screaming cry which is thrillingly impressive
when the shades of evening are throwing a
mysterious gloom over the forests. In the
mountains of Arizona one summer a mountain
lion repeatedly passed along a series of ledges
high above my cabin at dusk, uttering this loud
weird cry, popularly supposed to resemble the
scream of a terrified woman.
The mountain lion is usually nocturnal, but
in regions where it is not hunted it not infre-
quently goes abroad by day. It is a tireless
wanderer, often traveling many miles in a sin-
gle night, sometimes in search of game and
again in search of new hunting grounds. I
have repeatedly followed its tracks for long
distances along trails, and in northern Chihua-
hua I once tracked one for a couple of miles
from a bare rocky hill straight across the open,
grassy plain toward a treeless desert mountain,
for which it was heading, some eight or ten
miles away.
Although inoffensive as to people, this cat
is such a fierce and relentless enemy of large
game and live stock that it is everywhere an
outlaw. Large bounties on its head have re-
sulted in its extermination in most parts of
the eastern United States and have diminished
its numbers elsewhere. It is not only hunted
with gun and dog but also with trap and poison.
A mountain lion usually secures its prey by
a silent, cautious stalk, taking advantage of
every cover until within striking distance, and
then, with one or more powerful leaps, dashing
the victim to the ground with all the stunning
impact of its weight. In a beautiful live-oak
forest on the mountains of San Luis Potosi I
MOUNTAIN LION
JAGUAR
413
414
once trailed one of these great cats to the spot
where it had killed a deer a short time before,
and could plainly read in the trail the story of
the admirable skill with which it had moved
from cover to cover until it reached a knoll at
one side of the little glade where the deer was
feeding. Then a great leap carried it to the
deer’s back and struck the victim to the ground
with such violence that it slid 10 or 12 feet
across the sloping ground, apparently having
been killed on the instant.
Another trail followed in the.snow on the
high mountains of New Mexico led to the top
of a projecting ledge from which the lion had
leaped out and down over 20 feet, landing on
the back of a deer and sliding with it 50 feet
or more down the snowy slope.
The mountain lion often kills calves, but is
especially fond of young horses. In many
range districts of the Western States and on
the table-land of Mexico, owing to the depre-
dations of this animal, it is impossible to raise
horses. Unfortunately the predatory habits of
this splendid cat are such that it can not con-
tinue to occupy the same territory as civilized
man and so is destined to disappear before
him.
JAGUAR (Felis hernandesi and its sub-
species)
The jaguar, or “el tigre,” as it is generally
known throughout Spanish America, is the
largest and handsomest of American cats. Its
size and deep yellow color, profusely marked
with black spots and rosettes, give it a close
resemblance to the African leopard. It is,
however, a heavier and more powerful animal.
In parts of the dense tropical forests of South
America coal-black jaguars occur, and while
representing merely a color phase, they are pop-
ularly supposed to be much fiercer than the
ordinary animal.
Jaguars are characteristic animals of the
tropics in both Americas, frequenting alike the
low jungle of arid parts as well as the great
forests of the humid regions. In addition, they
range south into Argentina and north into the
southwestern United States. Although less nu-
merous within our borders than formerly, they
still occur as rare visitants as far north as
middle Texas, middle New Mexico, and north-
ern Arizona. They are so strictly nocturnal
that their presence in our territory is usually
not suspected until, after depredations on stock
usually attributed to mountain lions, a trap or
poison is put out and reveals a jaguar as the
offender. Several have been killed in this way
within our border during the last ten years,
including one not far from the tourist hotel at
the Grand Canyon of Arizona.
Although so large and powerful, the jaguar
has none of the truculent ferocity of the Afri-
can leopard. During the years I spent in its
country, mainly in the open, I made careful
inquiry without hearing of a single case where
one had attacked human beings. So far as I
could learn, it has practically the same shy and
cowardly nature as the mountain lion. Despite
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
this, the natives throughout its tropical home
have a great fear of “el tigre,’ as I saw evi-
denced repeatedly in Mexico. Apparently this
fear is based wholly on its strength and poten-
tial ability to harm man if it so “desired.
Jaguars are very destructive to the larger
game birds and mammals of their domain and
to horses and cattle on ranches. On many
large tropical ranches a “tigrero,’ or tiger
hunter, with a small pack of mongrel dogs, is
maintained, whose duty it is immediately to
take up the trail when a “tigre” makes its pres-
ence known, usually by killing cattle. The
hunter steadily continues the pursuit, some-
times for many days, until the animal is either
killed or driven out of the district. It is ordi-
narily hunted with dogs, which noisily follow
the trail, but its speed through the jungle often
enables it to escape. When hard pressed it
takes to a tree and is easily killed.
Few predatory animals are such wanderers
as the jaguar, which roams hundreds of miles
from its original home, as shown by its occa-
sional appearance far within our borders. In
the heavy tropical forest it so commonly fol-
lows the large wandering herds of white-lipped
peccaries that some of the Mexicans contend
that every large herd is trailed by a tiger to
pick up stragglers. Along the Mexican coast
in spring, when sea turtles crawl up the beaches
to bury their eggs in the sand, the rising sun
often reveals the fresh tracks of the jaguar
where it has traveled for miles along the shore
in search of these savory deposits.
In one locality on the Pacific coast of Guer-
rero I found that the hardier natives had an
interesting method of hunting the “tigre” dur-
ing the mating period. At such times the male
has the habit of leaving its lair near the head
of a small canyon in the foothills early in the
evening and following down the canyon for
some distance, at intervals uttering a subdued
roar. On moonlight nights at this time the
hunter places an expert native with a short
wooden trumpet near the mouth of the canyon
to imitate the “tigre’s” call as soon as it is
heard and to repeat the cry at proper intervals.
After placing the caller, the hunter ascends the
canyon several hundred yards and, gun in
hand, awaits the approach of the animal. The
natives have many amusing tales of the sudden
exit of untried hunters when the approaching
animal unexpectedly uttered its roar at close
quarters.
JAGUARUNDI CAT, OR EYRA (Felis
cacomitli and its subspecies)
The eyra differs greatly in general appear-
ance from any of our other cats, although it is
one of the most characteristic of the American
members of this widely spread family. It is
larger than an otter, with a small flattened
head, long body, long tail, and short legs, thus
having a distinctly otterlike form. It is char-
acterized by two color phases—one a dull gray
or dusky, and the other some shade of rusty
rufous. Animals of these different colors were
long supposed to represent distinct species, but
os
RED AND GRAY PHASES OF THE JAGUARUNDI CAT, OR EYRA
2 GS
TIGER-CAT, OR OCELOT
415
416
it has been learned not only that color is the
only difference between the two, but also that
the two colors are everywhere found together,
affording satisfactory evidence that they are
merely color phases of the same species.
The eyra is a habitant of brush-grown or
forested country, mainly in the lowlands, from
the lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas south
to Paraguay. In this vast territory it has de-
veloped a number of geographic races.
In southern Texas, where it is often asso-
ciated with the ocelot, the eyra lives in dense
thorny thickets of mesquites, acacias, iron-
wood, and other semitropical chaparral in a
region of brilliant sunlight; but farther south
it also roams the magnificent forests of the
humid tropics, in which the sun rarely pene-
trates. It appears to be even more nocturnal
and retiring than most of our cats, and but
little is known of its life history. The results
of thorough trapping in the dense thorny thick-
ets near Brownsville, Texas, indicate that it is
probably more common than is generally sup-
posed.
The natives in the lowlands of Guerrero, on
the Pacific coast of Mexico, informed me that
the eyra in that region is fond of the vicinity
of streams, and that it takes to the water and
swims freely, crossing rivers whenever it de-
sires. Its otterlike form goes well with such
habits, and further information may prove that
it is commonly a water-frequenting animal.
Its unusual form and dual coloration and our
lack of knowledge regarding the life of the
eyra unite to make it one of the most inter-
esting of our carnivores.
TIGER-CATS, OR OCELOTS (Felis
pardalis and its relatives)
The brushy and forested areas of America
from southern Texas and Sonora to Paraguay
are inhabited by spotted cats of different spe-
cies, varying from the size of a large house
cat to.that of a Canada lynx. Only one of
these occurs in the United States. All are
characterized by long tails and a yellowish
ground color, conspicuously marked by black
spots, and on neck and back by short, longi-
tudinal stripes—a color pattern that strongly
suggests the leopard.
In the lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas
the tiger-cat is«rather common, with the eyra-
cat, in areas densely overgrown with thorny
chaparral. Like most of the cat tribe, it is
strictly nocturnal and by day lies well hidden
in its brushy shelter. By night it wanders
along trails over a considerable territory, seek-
ing its prey. Birds of all kinds, including do-
mestic poultry, are captured on their roosts,
and rabbits, wood rats, and mice of many
kinds, as well as snakes and other reptiles, are
on its list of game.
Its reptile-eating habit was revealed to me
unexpectedly one day in the dense tropical for-
est of Chiapas. I was riding along a steep
trail beside a shallow brush-grown ravine when
a tiger-cat suddenly rushed up the trunk of a
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
tree close by. A lucky shot from my revolver
brought it to the ground, and I found it lying
in the ravine by the body of a recently killed
boa about 6 or 7 feet long. It had eaten the
boa’s head and neck when my approach inter-
rupted the feast.
The first of these cats I trapped in Mexico
was captured the night after my arrival, in a
trail bordering the port of Manzanillo, on the
Pacific coast. The rejoicing of the natives
living close by evidenced the toll this marauder
had been taking from their chickens.
The tiger-cat is much more quiet and less
fierce in disposition than most felines. It ex-
cited my surprise and interest whenever I
trapped one to note how nonchalantly it took
the situation. The captive never dashed wildly
about to escape, but when I drew near sat and
looked quietly at me without the slightest sign
of alarm and with little apparent interest. A
small trap-hold, even on the end of a single
toe, was enough to retain the victim. On one
occasion, while a cat thus held sat looking at
me, it quietly reached to one side and sank its
teeth into the bark of a small tree to which
the trap was attached, and then resumed its
air of unconcern.
The tiger-cat brings within our fauna an in-
teresting touch of the tropics and its exuber-
ance of animal life. It is found in so small a
corner of our territory, however, that, despite
its mainly inoffensive habits, it is certain to be
crowded out in the near future by the increased
occupation of its haunts.
RED FOX (Vulpes fulva and its relatives)
Red foxes are characterized by their rusty
red fur, black-fronted fore legs, and white-
tipped tail. They inhabit the forested regions
in the temperate and subarctic parts of both
Old and New Worlds, and, like other types of
animal life having a wide range, they break up
into numerous distinct species and geographic
races.
In America they originally ranged over near-
ly all the forested region from the northern
limit of trees in Alaska and Canada south,
east of the Great Plains, to Texas; also down
the Rocky Mountains to middle New Mexico,
and down the Sierra Nevada to the Mount
Whitney region of California. They are un-
known on the treeless plains of the West, in-
cluding the Great Basin. Originally they were
apparently absent from the Atlantic and Gulf
States from Maryland to Louisiana, but have
since been introduced and become common
south to middle Georgia and Alabama.
Wherever red foxes occur they show great
mental alertness and capacity to meet the re-
quirements of their surroundings. In New
England they steadily persist, though their
raids on poultry yards have for centuries set
the hand of mankind against them. For a
time conditions favored them in parts of the
Middle Atlantic States, for the sport of hunt-
ing to hounds was imported from England, and
the foxes had partial protection. This exotic
CROSS FOX RED FOX SILVER FOX
The precious black and silver gray foxes are merely color phases occurring in litters of the ordinary red animal (see text, page 416)
ALASKA RED FOX
417
418
amusement has now passed and the fox must
everywhere depend on his nimble wits for
safety.
Since the days of A*sop’s fables tales of
foxes and their doings have had their place in
literature as well as in the folk-lore of the
countryside. Many of their amazing wiles to
outwit pursuers or to capture their prey give
evidence of extraordinary mental powers.
Their bill of fare includes many items, as
mice, birds, reptiles, insects, many kinds of
fruits, and on rare occasions a chicken. The
bad name borne by them among farmers, due
to occasional raids on the poultry yard, is
largely unwarranted. They kill enormous
numbers of mice and other small rodents each
year, and thus well repay the loss of a chicken
now and then.
Red foxes apparently pair for life and oc-
cupy dens dug by themselves in a secluded
knoll or among rocks. “These dens, which are
sometimes occtipied for years in succession,
always have two or more entrances opening in
opposite directions, so that an enemy entering
on one side may be readily eluded. The young,
numbering up to eight or nine, are tenderly
cared for. by both parents.
Although they have been persistently hunted
and trapped in North America since the ear-
liest times, they still yield a royal annual trib-
ute of furs. It is well known that the highly
prized cross, as well as the precious black, and
silver gray foxes are merely color phases oc-
curring in litters of the ordinary red animal.
Black skins are so highly prized that specially
fine ones have sold for more than $2,500 each
in the London market. The reward thus of-
fered has resulted in the development of black
fox fur-farms, which have been very success-
ful in parts of Canada and the United States,
thus originating a valuable new industry.
By the modern regulation of trapping, foxes
and other fur-bearers are destined to survive
wherever conditions are favorable. In addi-
tion to the economic value of foxes, the loca-
tion of an occasional fox den here and there
on the borders of a woodland tract, the mean-
dering tracks in the snow, and the occasional
glimpse of animals cautiously making their
rounds add a keen touch of primitive nature
well worth preserving in any locality.
ALASKA RED FOX (Vulpes kenaiensis)
The red fox of the Kenai Peninsula, Alaska,
and the adjacent mainland is probably the
largest of its kind in the world, although those
of Kodiak Island and of the Mackenzie River
valley are nearly as large. Compared with its
relatives of the United States, the Kenai fox
is a giant, with heavier, duller-colored coat
and a huge tail, more like that of a wolf than
of a fox. The spruce and birch forests of
Alaska and the Mackenzie Valley are appar-
ently peculiarly adapted to red foxes, as shown
by the development there of these animals—
good illustrations of the relative increase in
size and vigor of animals in a specially favor-
able environment.
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
As noted in the general account of the red
foxes, the occurrence of the black phase is
sporadic, and the relative number of dark in-
dividuals varies greatly in different parts of
their range. The region about the upper Yu-
kon and its tributaries and the Mackenzie
River basin are noted for the number of black
foxes produced, apparently a decidedly greater
proportion than in any other similarly large
area. The prices for which these black skins
sell in the London market prove them to be of
equal quality with those from any other area.
Like other red foxes, the Alaskan species
digs its burrows, with several entrances, in some
dry secluded spot, where both male and female
share in the care of the young. In northern
wilds the food problem differs from that in a
settled country. There the surrounding wild
life is the only dependence, and varying hares,
lemmings, and other mice are usually to be had
by the possessor of a keen scent and an active
body. In summer many nesting wild-fowl and
their young are easy prey, while heathberries
and other northern fruits are also available.
Winter brings a season of scarcity, when life
requires the exercise of ev ery trained faculty.
The snow-white ptarmigan is then a prize to be
gained only by the most skillful stalking, and
the white hare is almost equally difficult to
secure. At this season foxes wander many
miles each day, their erratic tracks in the snow
telling the tale of their industrious search for
prey in every likely spot. It is in this season
of insistent hunger that many of them fall vic-
tims to the wiles of trappers or to the unscru-
pulous hunter who scatters poisoned baits.
Fortunately the season for trapping these
and other fur-bearers in Alaska is now limited
by law and the use of poisons is forbidden.
These measures will aid in preserving one of
the valuable natural assets of these northern
wilds.
GRAY FOX (Urocyon cinereoargenteus
and its relatives)
Gray foxes average about the size of common
red foxes, but are longer and more slender in
body, with longer legs and a longer, thinner tail.
They are peculiar to America, where they have
a wide range—from New Hampshire, Wiscon-
sin, and Oregon south through Mexico and
Central America to Colombia. Within this area
there are numerous geographic forms closely
alike in color and general appearance, but vary-
ing much in size; the largest of all, larger than
the red fox, occupying the New England States.
Gray foxes inhabit wooded and brush-grown
country and are much more numerous in the
arid or semiarid regions of the southwestern
United States and western Mexico than else-
where. In parts of California they are far
more numerous than red foxes ever become.
They do not regularly dig a den, but occupy a
hollow tree or cavity in the rocks, where they
bring forth from three to five young each
spring. As with other foxes, the cubs are born
blind and helpless, and are also almost blackish
in color, entirely unlike the adults. The par-
DESERT FOX GRAY FOX
eee
4us Coorn2 Guster
BADGER
419
420
ents, as usual with all members of the dog
family, are devoted to their young and care for
them with the utmost solicitude.
Like other members of the tribe, they are
omnivorous and feed upon mice, squirrels, rab-
bits, birds, and large insects, in addition to
acorns or other nuts and fruits of all kinds.
In Lower California they are very common
about the date-palm orchards, which they visit
nightly for fallen fruit. They also make noc-
turnal visits to poultry yards.
In some parts of the West they are called
“tree foxes,” because when pursued by dogs
they often climb into the tops of small branch-
ing trees.
On one occasion in Arizona I saw a gray fox
standing in the top of a large, leaning mesquite
tree, about thirty feet from the ground, quietly
gazing in various directions, as though he had
chosen this as a lookout point. As soon as he
saw me he came down at a run and swiftly
disappeared.
In the same region I found a den in the hol-
low base of an old live-oak containing three
young only a few days old. The mother was
shot as she sprang from the hole on my ap-
proach and the young taken to camp. There
the skin of the old fox, well wrapped in paper,
was placed on the ground at one side of the
tent, and an open hunting bag containing the
young placed on the opposite side, about ten
feet away. On returning an hour later, I was
amazed to find that all three of the young, so
small they could crawl only with the utmost
difficulty, and totally blind, had crossed the tent
and managed to work their way through the
paper to the skin of their mother, thus show-
ing that the acute sense of smell in these foxes
becomes of service to them at a surprisingly
early age.
DESERT FOX (Vulpes macrotis and its
subspecies)
A small fox, akin to the kit fox or swift of
the western plains, frequents the arid cactus-
grown desert region of the Southwest. It is
found from the southern parts of New Mex-
ico, Arizona, and California south into the ad-
jacent parts of Mexico. The desert fox is a
beautiful species, slender in form, and extra-
ordinarily quick and graceful in its movements,
but so generally nocturnal in habits as to be
rarely seen by the desert traveler. On the rare
occasions when one is encountered abroad by
day, if it thinks itself unobserved by the trav-
eler it usually flattens itself on the ground be-
side any small object which breaks the surface,
and thus obscured will permit a horseman to
ride within a few rods without moving. If the
traveler indicates by any action that he has
seen it, the fox darts away at extraordinary
speed, running with a smooth, floating motion
which seems as effortless as that of a drifting
thistledown before a breeze.
The desert fox digs a burrow, with several
entrances, in a small mound, or at times on an
open flat, and there rears four or five young
each year. Its main food consists of kangaroo
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
rats, pocket mice, small ground-squirrels, and
a variety of other small desert mammals. In
early morning fox tracks, about the size of
those of a house-cat, may be seen along sandy
arroyos and similar places where these small
carnivores have wandered in search of prey.
Like the kit, the desert fox has little of the
sophisticated mental ability of the red fox and
falls an easy prey to the trapper. It is no-
where numerous and occupies such a thinly in-
habited region that there is little danger of its
numbers greatly decreasing in the near future.
BADGER (Taxidea taxus and its sub-
species)
The favorite home of the badger is on
grassy, brush-grown plains, where there is an
abundance of mice, pocket gophers, ground-
squirrels, prairie-dogs, or other small mam-
mais. There it wanders far and wide at night
searching for the burrows of the small ro-
dents, which are its chief prey. When its
acute sense of smell announces that a burrow
is occupied, it sets to work with sharp claws
and powerful fore legs and digs down to the
terrified inmate in an amazingly short time.
The trail of a badger for a single night is
often marked by hole after hole, each with a
mound of fresh earth containing the tracks of
the marauder. As a consequence, if several of
these animals are in the neighborhood, their
burrows, 6 or 8 inches in diameter, soon be-
come so numerous that it is dangerous to ride
rapidly through their haunts on horseback.
Although a member of the weasel family,
the badger is so slow-footed that when it is
occasionally found abroad by day a man on
foot can easily overtake it. When brought to
bay, it charges man or dog and fights with
such vicious power and desperation that noth-
ing of its own size can overcome it. It appears
to have a morose and savage nature, lacking
the spice of vivacity or playfulness which ap-
pears in many of its relatives.
Although commonly found living by itself
in a den, it is often found moving about by
day in pairs, indicating the probability that it
may mate permanently. In the northern part
of its range it hibernates during winter, but
in the south remains active throughout the
year. Its shy and retiring character is evi-
denced by the little information we have con-
cerning its family life.» The badger is so de-
structive to rodents that its services are of
great value to the farmer. Regardless of this,
where encountered it is almost invariably
killed. As a consequence, the increasing occu-
pation of its territory must result in its steady
decrease in numbers and final extermination.
The American badger is a close relative of
the well-known badger occupying the British
Isles and other northern parts of the Old
World. It is a low, broad, short-legged, pow-
erfully built animal of such wide distribution
that it has developed several geographic races.
Its range originally extended from about 58
degrees of latitude, on the Peace River, in
THE PEARY CARIBOU ARCTIC WOLF
One of the geographic forms of the Barren Ground Caribou
(see text, page 460)
421
422
Canada, south to the plains of Puebla, on the
southern end of the Mexican table-land, and
from Michigan, Kansas, and Texas west to the
Pacific coast. It has now become extinct over
much of this area and is everywhere greatly
reduced in numbers. j
It appears to thrive equally well on the plains
of Alberta, in the open pine forests of the
Sierra Nevada in California, and on the dry
tropical lowlands at the southern end of the
Peninsula of Lower California.
ARCTIC WOLF (Canis tundrarum)
In order to fit properly into a high northern
environment, Arctic wolves have developed
white coats, which they wear throughout the
year. They are among the largest of their kind
and have all the surpassing vigor needful for
successful beasts of prey in the rigors of such
a home. Nature is more than ordinarily hard
on weaklings in the far North and only the
fittest survive.
The range of the white wolves covers the
treeless barren grounds bordering the Arctic
coast of Alaska and Canada and extending
thence across the Arctic islands to the north
coast of Greenland beyond 83 degrees of lati-
tude.
The short summer in the far North is the
season of plenty, during which swarms of wild-
fowl furnish a bountiful addition to the regu-
lar food supply. Young wolves are reared and
the pack feeds fat, laying up a needed reserve
strength for the coming season of darkness.
When winter arrives lemmings and Arctic
hares and an occasional white fox furnish an
uncertain food supply for such insistent hun-
eer as that of wolves, and larger game is a
necessity.
In the northern part of their range they
share with the other denizens of that land the
months of continuous night. There, amid re-
lentless storms and iron frosts, the trail, once
found, must be held to the end. The chase is
made in the gloom of continuous night and the
white caribou or musk-ox herd is brought to
bay, and by the law of the pack food is pro-
vided.
White wolves are the one dreaded foe Na-
ture has given the musk-ox and the caribou in
the northern wilds. The number of the wolves,
as with other carnivores, varies with the abun-
dance of their chief prey, and they will disap-
pear automatically with the caribou and musk-
oxen.
GRAY, OR TIMBER, WOLF (Canis
nubilus and its relatives)
Large wolves, closely related to those of Eu-
rope and Siberia, once infested practically all
of Arctic and temperate North America, ex-
cepting only the arid desert plains. This range
extended from the remotest northern lands be-
yond 83 degrees of latitude south to the moun-
tains about the Valley of Mexico.
When America was first colonized by white
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
men, wolves were numerous everywhere in pro-
portion to the great abundance of game ani-
mals. With the increased occupation of the
continent and the destruction of most of its
large game, wolves have entirely disappeared
from large parts of their former domain. They
still occur in varying numbers in the forest
along our northern border from Michigan
westward, and south along the Rocky Moun-
tains and the Sierra Madre to Durango, Mex-
ico, and also in all the Gulf States.
The variations in climate and other physical
conditions within their range has resulted in
the development of numerous geographic races,
and perhaps of species, of wolves, which show
marked differences in size and color. ‘The
white Arctic wolf, described on pages 422 and
424, is one of the most notable of these, but the
gray wolf of the Rocky Mountain region and
the eastern United States is the best known.
Since the dawn of history Old World wolves,
when hunger pressed, have not hesitated to at-
tack men, and in wild districts have become a
fearful scourge. American wolves have rarely
shown this fearlessness toward man, probably
owing to the abundance of game before the
advent of white men and to the general use of
firearms among the pioneers. That wolves are
extremely difficult to exterminate is shown by
their persistence to the present day in parts of
France and elsewhere in Europe. This is due
both to their fecundity (they have from eight
to twelve young), and to their keen intelli-
gence, which they so often pit successfully
against the wiles of their chief enemy—man.
Gray wolves appear to mate permanently,
and in spring their young are born in natural
dens among great rocks, or in a burrow dug
for the purpose in a hillside. There both par-
ents exercise the greatest vigilance for the pro-
tection of the young. The male kills and
brings in game and stands guard in the neigh-
borhood, while the mother devotes most of her
time to the pups while they are very small. At
other times of year packs made up of one or
more pairs and their young hunt together with
a mutual helpfulness in pursuing and bringing
down their prey that shows a high order of in-
telligence. Wolves are in fact first cousins of
the dog, whose mental ability is recognized by
all.
During the existence of the great buffalo
herds, packs of big gray “buffalo wolves”
roamed the western plains, taking toll wher-
ever it pleased them. Since these vast game
herds have disappeared only a small fraction
of the wolves have survived. There are
enough, however, not only to commit great
ravages among the deer and other game in
northern Michigan and on the coastal islands
of Alaska, but also to destroy much live stock
in the Rocky Mountain region.
So serious have the losses in cattle and sheep
on the ranges become that Congress has re-
cently made large appropriations for the de-
struction of wolves and other predatory ani-
mals, and these disturbers of the peace will
soon become much reduced in numbers. The
Beet Ggssia GuerIee
GRAY, OR TIMBER, WOLF BLACK WOLF
Swe a
PLAINS COYOTE, OR PRAIRIE WOLF ARIZONA, OR MEARNS, COYOTE
423
424
necessity for action of this kind is shown by
the recent capture in Colorado of a huge old
dog wolf with a definite record of having
killed about $3,000 worth of stock. Interesting
as wolves are, filling their place in the wilder-
ness, their habits bar them from being tol-
erated in civilized regions.
PLAINS COYOTE, OR PRAIRIE WOLF
(Canis latrans)
Western North America is inhabited by a
peculiar group of small wolves, known as
coyotes, this being a Spanish corruption of the
Aztec name coyotl. They range from north-
ern Michigan, northern Alberta, and British
Columbia south to Costa Rica, and from west-
ern Iowa and Texas to the Pacific coast. As
a group they are animals of the open plains
and sparsely wooded districts, ranging from
sea-level to above timber-line on the highest
mountains. ‘They are most at home on the
wide brushy or grassy plains of the western
United States and the table-lands of Mexico.
Within their great area coyotes have devel-
oped several distinct species and a number of
geographic races, distinguished by differences
in size, color, and other characteristics. Some
attain a size almost equaling that of the gray
wolf, while others are much smaller.
They are less courageous and have less of
the social instinct than gray wolves, and on
the rare occasions when they hunt in packs
they form, no doubt, a family party, including
the young of the year. They appear to pair
more or less permanently and commonly hunt
in couples. The young, sometimes numbering
as many as fourteen, are born in a burrow
dug in a bank, or in a den among broken rocks
and ledges. Young animals are readily tamed,
and it is entirely probable that some of the
dogs found by early explorers among western
Indians may have descended from coyotes.
Coyotes are a familiar sight to travelers in
the wildest parts of the West. Here and there
one is seen trotting through the sagebrush or
other scrubby growth, or stopping to gaze
curiously at the intruder. If suddenly alarmed,
they race away across the plains with amazing
speed. At night their high-pitched, wailing
howls voice the lonely spirit of waste places.
With the growth of settlement in the West
and the steady decrease of large and small
game, coyotes have become more and more de-
structive to poultry and all kinds of live stock.
As a result, every man’s hand is against them,
reinforced by gun, trap, and poison. Despite
years of this persistent warfare, their acute
intelligence, aided by their extraordinary fe-
cundity, has enabled them to hold their own
over a great part of their original range. Their
depredations upon live stock have been so great
that many millions of dollars have been paid
in bounties for their destruction.
This method of control has proved so in-
effective, however, that the Federal Govern-
ment has engaged in the task of suppressing
them, tegether with the other less numerous
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
predatory animals of the West, and has placed
about 300 hunters in the field for this purpose.
The complete destruction of coyotes would, no
doubt, upset the balance of nature in favor of
rabbits, prairie-dogs, and other harmful ro-
dents, and thus result in a very serious in-
crease in the destruction of crops.
The coyote supplies much interest and local -
color to many dreary landscapes and has be-
come a prominent figure in the literature of
the West. There it is usually symbolic of
shifty cunning and fleetness of foot. What-
ever his faults, the coyote is an amusing and
interesting beast, and it is hoped that the day
of his complete disappearance from our wild
life may be far in the future.
ARIZONA, OR MEARNS, COYOTE
(Canis mearnsi)
The Arizona coyote is one of the smallest
and at the same time the most handsomely col-
ored of all its kind. Its home is limited to
the arid deserts on both sides of the lower
Colorado River, but mainly in southwestern
Arizona and adjacent parts of Sonora. ‘This
is one of the hottest and most arid regions
of the continent, and for coyotes successfully
to hold their own there requires the exercise
of all the acute intelligence for which they
are noted. Instead of the winter blizzards
and biting cold encountered in the home of
the plains coyote, this southern species has
to endure the furnacelike heat of summer,
with occasional long periods of drought, when
water-holes become dry, plant life becomes dor-
mant, and a large part of the smaller mammal
life perishes.
The Arizona coyote, like others of its kind,
is omnivorous. In seasons of plenty, rabbits,
kangaroo rats, pocket gophers, and many other
desert rodents cost only the pleasant excite-
ment of a short stalk. With the changing sea-
sons the flesh diet is varied by the sugary
mesquite beans, juicy cactus fruit, and other
products of thorny desert plants. Wherever
sufficient water is available for irrigation, small
communities of Indians or Mexicans are to
be found About such centers many coyotes
usually establish themselves and fatten on
poultry, green corn, melons, and other fruits
provided by the labor of man: Many of them
also patrol the shores of the Gulf of California
and feast upon the eggs of turtles and other
spoils of the sea.
The arrival of men at a desert water-hole is
quickly known among these alert foragers, and
when the travelers arise at daybreak they are
likely to see tell-tale tracks on the sand where
one or two coyotes have walked in and out be-
tween their sleeping places and all about camp.
Shortly afterward the campers, if inexperi-
enced, may learn that bacon and other food
are contraband and always confiscated by these
dogs of the desert. These camp marauders
often stand among the bushes only 75 or 100
yards away in the morning and watch the in-
truders with much curiosity until some hostile
movement starts them off in rapid flight.
THE LARGER NORTH AMERICAN MAMMALS
WHITE, OR ARCTIC, FOX (Alopex
lagopus)
The Arctic fox, clothed in long, fluffy white
fur, is an extremely handsome animal, about
two-thirds the size of the common red fox. It
is a circumpolar species, which in America
ranges over all the barren grounds beyond the
limit of trees, including the coastal belt of
tundra from the Peninsula of Alaska to Ber-
ing Straits, the Arctic islands, and the frozen
sea to beyond 83 degrees of latitude.
The blue fox of commerce is a color phase
of this species, usually of sporadic occurrence,
like the black phase of the red fox. The white
fox makes its burrow either in a dry mound,
under a large rock, or in the snow, where its
young are brought forth and cared for with
the devotion which appears to characterize all
foxes.
How this small and delicately formed animal
manages to sustain life under the rigorous
winter conditions of the far north has always
been a mystery to me. I have seen its tracks
on the sea ice miles from shore. It regularly
wanders far and wide over these desolate icy
wastes, which can offer only the most remote
chance for food. However, it appears to thrive,
with other animal life, even where months of
continuous night follow the long summer day.
The food of the Arctic fox includes nearly
all species of the wild-fowl which each summer
swarm into the far North to breed. There on
the tundras congregate myriads of ducks,
geese, and waders, while on the cliffs and
rocky islands are countless gulls and other
water birds. In winter they find lemmings and
other northern mice, occasional Arctic “hares,
and ptarmigan, as well as fragments of prey
left by Arctic wolves or polar bears. Now
and then the carcass of a whale is stranded or
frozen in the ice, furnishing an abundance of
food, sometimes for a year or more, to the
foxes which gather about it from a great dis-
tance.
Perhaps owing to its limited experience with
man, the northern animal is much less sus-
picious than the southern red fox. During
winter sledge trips in Alaska I frequently had
two or three of them gather about my open
camp on the ccast, apparently fascinated by
the little camp-fire of driftwood. ‘They would
sit about, near by i in the snow, for an hour or
two in the evening, every now and then utter-
ing weak, husky barks like small dogs.
The summer of 1881, when we landed from
the Corwin on Herald Island, northwest of
Bering Straits, we found many white foxes
living in burrows under large scattered rocks
on the plateau summit. They had never seen
men before and our presence excited their
most intense interest and curiosity. One and
sometimes two of them followed closely at my
heels wherever I went, and when I stopped to
make notes or look about, sat down and
watched me with absurd gravity. Now and
then one at a distance would mount a rock to
get a better view of the stranger.
On returning to the ship, I remembered that
425
my notebook had been left on a large rock
over a fox den, on the island, and at once went
back for it. I had been gone only a short
time, but no trace of the book could be found
on or about the rock, and it was evident that
the owner of the den had confiscated it. Sev-
eral other foxes sat about viewing my search
with interest and when I left followed me to
the edge of the island. A nearly grown young
one kept on the Corwin was extraordinarily
intelligent, inquisitive, and mischievous, and
afforded all of us much amusement and occa-
sional exasperation.
PRIBILOF BLUE FOX (Alopex lagopus
pribilofensis)
The blue fox is a color phase of the Arctic
white fox and may occur anywhere in the
range of the typical animal. In fact, the blue
phase bears the same relationship to the white
that the black phase does to the red fox. In
the Pribilof, or Fur Seal, Islands of Alaska,
however, through the influence of favorable
climatic conditions, assisted by artificial selec-
tion in weeding out white animals, the blue
phase has become the resident form. Isola-
tion on these islands has developed other char-
acters also which, with the prevailing color,
render the Pribilof animal a distinct geo-
graphic race of the white species. A blue fox
is also the prevailing resident animal in Ice-
land.
In years when fur-seals were killed in con-
siderable numbers on the Pribilofs their car-
casses remained on the killing grounds as a
never-failing store of food through the winter.
During summer there is an abundance of nest-
ing water-fowl, and throughout the year there
are mice on land and the products of the sea
along shore. Asaresult the foxes have thrived
amazingly and several hundred skins have been
produced a year. With the lessening number
of seals now being killed on the islands and
the resulting scarcity of winter food, the fate
of the foxes is somewhat in doubt. The Prib-
ilof skins are of high market value, bringing
from $40 to $150 each in the London market.
Stock from the Pribilofs has been intro-
duced on a number of the Aleutians and other
Alaskan islands for fur-farming purposes. ‘The
value of these fur-bearers is so great that spe-
cial effort should be made not only to keep up
the stock on the islands, but still further to
improve it.
The Pribilof foxes have from five to eleven
young, which are usually born above ground
and are later carried to the shelter of dens
dug in the open or under the shelter of a rock.
Foxes have become so accustomed to people
on these islands that they have little fear and
come about boldly to satisfy their curiosity or
to seek for food. They often show an amus-
ing interest in the doings of any one who in-
vades the more remote parts of their domain.
White animals born on the islands or coming
in by chance when the pack ice touches there
in winter are killed, whenever possible, in order
to hold the blue strain true.
LD
XO4 aN1d AOTAId
xOd
‘OILOUVY AO
ALIHM
426
THE LARGER NORTH AMERICAN MAMMALS 427
WOLVERINE (Gulo luscus)
The wolverine, or carcajou of the Canadian
voyageurs, is a circumpolar species belonging
to the northern forested areas of both conti-
nents. In North America it formerly ranged
from the northern limit of trees south to New
England and New York, and down the Rocky
Mountains to Colorado, and down the Sierra
Nevada to near Mount Whitney, California.
It is a low, squat, heavy-bodied animal, with
strong legs and feet armed with sharp claws,
and is the largest and most formidable of the
weasel family.
The wolverine is extraordinarily powerful
and possesses what at times appears to be a
diabolical cunning and persistence. It fre-
quently trails trappers along their trap lines,
eating or destroying their catches and at times
hiding their traps. It is a tireless wanderer,
and the hunter or traveler in the northern
wilds always has this marauder in mind and
is put to the limit of his wits to provide caches
for his provisions or other supplies which it
can not despoil.
What it can not eat it is likely to carry away
and hide. A wolverine has often been known
to expend a surprising amount of labor in
apparently deliberate mischief, even carrying
numerous articles away from camps and hiding
them in different places. It sometimes trails a
traveler for many miles through winter snow,
always out of sight, but alert to take advantage
of any carelessness in leaving game or other
food unguarded.
Mingled with these mischievous traits the
wolverine possesses a savage ferocity com-
bined with a muscular power which renders it
a dreaded foe of all but the largest animals of
its domain. When guarding her young, the
female is no mean foe, even for a man.
As a consequence of its mental and physical
character, the wolverine, more than any other
animal of the north, has impressed itself on
the imagination of both native and white hunt-
ers and travelers. A vast amount of folk-lore
has grown up about it and both Indians and
Eskimos make offerings to propitiate its ma-
lignant spirit. The Alaskan Eskimos trim the
hoods of their fur garments with a strip of
wolverine fur, and Eskimo hunters wear belts
and hunting bags made of the skin of the legs
and head, that they may acquire some of the
power of the animal from which these came.
The value of the handsome brown fur of the
wolverine, as well as the enmity the animal
earns among hunters and trappers, has resulted
in its being so persistently hunted that it has
become extinct over much of its former terri-
tory, and wherever still found it is much re-
duced in numbers.
PACIFIC WALRUS (Odobenus obesus)
The walruses, or “sea horses” of the old
navigators, are the strangest and most gro-
tesque of all sea mammals. Their large, rugged
heads, armed with two long ivory tusks, and
their huge swollen bodies, covered with hair-
less, wrinkled, and warty skin, gives them a
formidable appearance unlike that of any other
mammal. They are much larger than most
seals, the old males weighing from 2,000 to
3,000 pounds and the females about two-thirds
as much.
These strange beasts are confined to the
Arctic Ocean and the adjacent coasts and
islands and are most numerous about the bor-
ders of the pack ice. Two species are known,
one belonging to the Greenland seas, while the
other, the Pacific walrus, is limited to Bering
Sea and the Arctic basin beyond Bering Straits.
The Pacific walruses migrate southward
through Bering Straits with the pack ice in
fall and spend the winter in Bering Sea and
along the adjacent coast of eastern Asia. In
spring they return northward through the
straits and pass the breeding season about the
ice pack, where they congregate in great herds.
One night in July, 1881, the U. S. steamer Cor-
win cruised for hours along the edge of the ice
pack off the Arctic coast of Alaska and we saw
an almost unbroken line of walruses hauled
out on the ice, forming an extended herd which
must have contained tens of thousands.
Walruses were formerly very abundant in
Bering Sea, especially about the Fur Seal
Islands and along the coast north of the Pen-
insula of Alaska, but few now survive there.
Owing to the value of their thick skins, blub-
ber, and ivory tusks, they have been subjected
to remorseless pursuit since the early Russian
occupation of their territory and have, as a re-
sult, become extinct in parts of their former
range and the species is now in serious danger
of extermination.
Like many of the seals, walruses have a
strong social instinct, and although usually seen
in herds they are not polygamous. ‘They feed
mainly on clams or other shellfish, which they
gather on the bottom of the shallow sea. On
shore or on the ice they move slowly and with
much difficulty, but in the water they are thor-
oughly at home and good swimmers. When
hauled out on land or ice, they usually lie in
groups one against the other. ‘They are stupid
beasts and hunters have no difficulty in killing
them with rifles at close range.
Walruses have a strongly developed mater-
nal instinct and show great devotion and dis-
regard of their own safety in defending the
young. The Eskimos at Cape Vancouver, Ber-
ing Sea, hunt them in frail skin-covered kyaks,
using ivory- or bone- pointed spears and seal-
skin floats. Several hunters told me of excit-
ing and dangerous encounters they had experi-
enced with mother walruses. If the young are
attacked, or even approached, the mother does
not hesitate to charge furiously. The hunters
confess that on such occasions there is no op-
tion but to paddle for their lives. Occasionally
an old walrus is unusually vindictive and, after
forcing a hunter to take refuge on the ice, will
remain patrolling the vicinity for a long time,
roaring and menacing the object of her anger.
When boats approach the edge of the ice
where walruses are hauled up, the animals
plunge into the sea in a panic and rise all about
ANIVAYA TOM
SOA IVIGS LASS ID i> SIAL
4
A cis UES
KILLER WHALE
Ce ee eee a
WHITE WHALE, OR BELUGA
470
GREENLAND RIGHT WHALE, OR BOWHEAD
SPERM WHALE, OR CACHALOT
471
479 THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
SPERM WHALE, OR CACHALOT
(Physeter macrocephalus)
The cachalot is from 40 to 60 feet long, about
equaling the Greenland bowhead whale in size.
It has a huge blunt head, which comprises
about one-third of the entire animal. The
mouth is large anu the under jaw is provided
with a row of heavy teeth, consisting of ivory
finer in grain than that from an elephant’s tusk.
The great whaling industry of the last two
centuries was based mainly on the sperm and
the bowhead whales. The largest of the bow-
heads is limited to the cold northern waters,
but the sperm whale frequents the tropic and
subtropic seas around the gloke. The main
hunting area for them lies in the South Pacific,
but they frequently visit more temperate coasts,
especially when seeking sheltered bays, where
their young may be born. ‘The young are
suckled and guarded carefully until old enough
to be left to their own devices. Sperm whales
sometimes occur off both coasts of the United
States, especially off southern California.
The feeding grounds of these whales are
mainly in the deepest parts of the ocean,
where they cruise about in irregular schools
containing a number of individuals. Their
food consists almost entirely of large octopuses
and giant squids, which are swallowed in large
sections.
As befits a gigantic mammal possessing huge
jaws armed with rows of fighting teeth, the
sperm whale is a much more pugnacious ani-
mal than the bowhead. There are many rec-
ords of whale-boats being smashed by them,
and several well-authenticated cases of enraged
bull cachalots having charged and crushed in
the sides of whaling ships, causing them speed-
ily to founder.
The sperm whale yields oil of a better quality
than the bowhead. Its huge head always con-
tains a considerable number of barrels of spe-
cially fine-grade oil, which produces the sper-
maceti of commerce. Ambergris, having an
excessively high value for use in the manufac-
ture of certain perfumes, is a product occa-
sionally formed in the digestive tract of the
sperm whale.
The name cachalot is one to conjure with.
It brings up visions of three-year voyages to
the famed South Seas, palm-bedecked coral
islands, and idyllic days with dusky islanders.
As in the case of the Greenland bowhead, how-
ever, this animal has been hunted until only a
small fraction of its former numbers survives
and the romantic days of its pursuit are gone,
never to return.
THE LARGER
NORTH AMERICAN MAMMALS
INDEX TO TEXT AND ILLUSTRATION PAGES
Tllus-
Text tration
page. page.
Amtelopey Ierono-NOune 5.05 «5 elevsdereusrele'e 452 451
IEG RS BAe is ha Gerd CoO Oo carne oko 420 419
Bear, Alaskan Brown—(I'rontispiece) 441
Sav SMS A Clea crciete ral sbet wicmeaey ey otenchere noes 437 440
Bevis Ginramon OL blachke ns 2 cects sine 437 440
1BYepHes MOVEKOOES Ses okecioiao a Clb arena pic 437 440
IBXep HDS, GURU AA Aina oS eGo Steir hoeio ener Gln Geonic 439 442
JEXSRHE, IEYMIEN CS cig.co sta tras cio DO Ios o 435 438
Beaviery PAIMELICATIE Ricinus siecle) ects) cil 441 443
Jeluga or White Whale........... . 468 470
Bison, American, or Buffalo... -.. 461 463
IBXOYCHE Go, [bby Waals Sih .s tin Sos Oyo or 410 411
Bowhead or Greenland Right Whale.. 469 471
Bultalovor! American Asisom... 2... 3. ..: 461 463
Cachalot, or Sperm Whale.......... 72 471
Caribou, Barren Ground.......... . 460 421
Gamipous WiOOGLUNG ean wperese tye tele ele ee 460 459
Caribou, Peary, or Barren Ground. 460 421
(CH, JEST COVEN B\ Uy aga Soo ol 414 415
Coyote, Arizona or NEMS 5 gts Slo Se >. 424 423
Coyote, Mearns or Arizona.......... 424 423
Coyote, Plains, or Prairie Wolf...... 424 423
Deer, Arizona White-tailed.......... 457 458
Weare Black=taileds. 2 sikece svc ckers sisters 456 455
IDYeeir, ANI. Signa Aeon ce Caines cami ie 453 455
Deer, Virginia or White-tailed....... 456 458
DeeryaANihitestailedemieae es eae 456, 457 458
DN aeeA Me CAM, Aetarejacc a adet oo -S eb erase 453 454
Hyra or Jacuarundi Cat... f..5..2... 414 415
BiSheRpobeeekamMicr i c.cees eivelee stots = 444 446
IMGs, WII SY IRGC he og 4 Rene s Gira ect ce oraro Gas 418 417
iM, JNROINTS Crp AL\WibhiGhs See we oeoe ome 425 426
RO Xt OL OSS ean riar Siinnc Sosa isiaka sate suecns 418 417
Fox, Desert BREN Viena ar av cine as 420 419
RO ae Gena Wis ete bres es oye cree ales ae 418 419
NOs DIOR ECs cee - cas < ctarce oe 425 426
IRiaThss)~ LENG(G 1S abet omcle scene Cen accep eet etre 416 417
HOxaE Ser steerer ea oe eter 418 417
HOxaywhite OF ArchiGeseo. os sk cones 425 426
Goat, Rocky Mountain.2: )..20.5.... 452 451
SERED EST DER eB) srg ter SUS RoR ET, DIME RE Oe ee 414 413
Tllus-
Text tration
page page.
Mion seNountainsvacwtebewe eno sickens 412 413
by Nk Baye Sc ous Cee ee ee 410 411
Lynx Canada state ieee eee 410 411
Manat) -Wloridase vant ee 465 467
NTOOSE state Se ae ae cee eee ates 461 462
Muskhogron) Peccarye ne .e-ieesieee 448 447
MAIS ORAS Aa eet Neate ane ee rote icone 464 466
OcelotssorVLicer-catssri sae nee eee 416 415
OPOSsuMAMVALoIn ake nae sro eae 408 409
ORTOP Non caccnile cet eRe Oe ehe 445 446
(OIE SES na so co Sp oo anoaD.c0c06.5 56 431 434
Peceary, Collared, or Muskhog...:... 448 447
RekanvorsWisher sans ore eee 444 446
Lig: Kolcole) Mee ES eo Oe ofctaimhene ae c 403 409
Sea-elephant, Northern, or Elephant
SEW Ticlooomo gogo tdsuD SSO DOC Goose 431 434
Sea-lionss Stelleneevr celeste 429 432
Seals Allaiskale Hie aassseeetekerer mesemeies Bae CAS) 432
Seal, Elephant, or Sea-elephant...... 431 434
Seal, Greenland, or Harp Seal...... 433 436
SIG TEEWHDOES 5 Gi na aoleddo 56 Py notsneisieks 433 436
Seal, Harp, Saddle-back, or Greenland 433 436
Seal, Leopard, or Harbor Seal....... 433 436
Seal? Ribponins.. Scmiae cc) cetera 435 438
Seal, Saddle-back, or Harp Seal..... 433 436
Sheep; Dall Mountaing =) 2233s 449 450
Sheep, Rocky Mountain.......... , 448 447
Sheep, Stone Mountain............. 449 450
Mizer-cats/ or Ocelotsan eee ee 416 415
Walrus, Pacificti sine pao 427 430
Wapiti or American Elk............ 453 454
Whale, Greenland Right or Bowhead. 469 471
Whale; aller po. co.jates cere eee oe 463 470
Whale, Sperm, or Cachalot.......... 472 471
Whale, White or Beluga............ 463 470
NOLES (Arctic AwWwhiteve. soe ree 22 421
Wioli Blacksat eae eee ears 423
Wolk. Gray, or/Dimberi2. = acter sere 422 423
Wolf, Prairie, or Plains Coyote...... 424 423
Wolt Dimberion Grayvee eke eee 422 423
Wolverine) p65 ese ere ees 427 428
M@lts ROOG WOE G
THE
NATIONAL
GEOGRAPHIC
MAGAZINE
DECEMBER, 1916
LONELY AUSTRALIA: THE UNIQUE
CONTINENT
By HersBert E. GREGORY
USTRALJIA is the most isolated of
A all inhabited continents and is re-
mote fromthe centeryot, allo
the world’s activities. Northward the
sailing distance to Japan is approximately
3,000 nautical miles ; to India, 2,500 miles.
South America is 7,000 miles to the east ;
and Africa an equal distance west.
From London to the capital of Aus-
tralia ships by the Suez route traverse
approximately 11,000 miles of water and
by the Panama Canal, 12,734 miles. From
California ports the routes via Samoa, or
Fiji, or Tahiti cover a quarter of the cir-
cumference of the earth. Australia’s
only large civilized neighbor within a
radius of 1,000 miles is Java.
The continent, lying thus far outside
the ordinary routes of travel, is rarely
visited by Americans. For most of us
knowledge of this fascinating land is ob-
tained by a study of a few pages in the
back of school geographies—pages de-
scriptive of “Australia and New Zealand”
and accompanied by a map of “Australia
and the Islands of the Pacific” on a scale
too small for the recognition of signifi-
cant features.
AUSTRALIA AND NEW ZEALAND ARE:
UNLIKE
One of the first surprises awaiting the
tourist from the Northern Hemisphere is
to find that Australia and New Zealand
may not be grouped as two islands of
like appearance, differing mainly in size;
near neighbors which may be treated as
a unit. New Zealand is nearly twice as
far from Australia as Bermuda is from
New York, and is not only east but also
south.
Four days’ travel across a chilly sea is
required for the traverse from Welling-
ton to Sydney, and after exchanging the
chill midsummer climate of the New Zea-
land Lake region for the heat of Ade-
laide, one readily accepts the evidence of
the map that the southern coast of the
Australian mainland has the latitude of
central New Jersey, while the southern-
most of the three islands which comprise
the Dominion of New Zealand occupies
the position of southern Newfoundland
(see map, page 477).
In climate and vegetation the two do-
minions are as unlike as Norway and
South Carolina. New Zealand is a land
of mountains, gorges, rivers, and fiords.
The higher peaks of the South Island are
eternally snow-capped and the glaciers of
its southern Alps rival those of Switzer-
land. The surrounding seas are too cold
for corals. Among the mountains of the
North Island volcanic fires are still active
and the geysers and hot springs are little
less impressive than those of the Yellow-
stone Park. ‘The aboriginal inhabitants
of New Zealand, at the time of their dis-
covery by Captain Cook, were the most
advanced of all the South Pacific races,
mip mace ere)
jsop[O oy} YPM syuUeI ATOWSIY TesISojoas sj ‘pazruotos sem Avg Auvjoq usyM ‘QQZ1 UL JUdIUI]T}JOS JSIY OY} WoIF Suep ‘plo siv9k paipuny & I9AO
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VIIVULSAV “ANVISNTIAG HLNOS : (Load OZO'V) NIVINOOW Iva NO SYYHLONd OMT AHL
474
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TASMANIA H
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MAP SHOWING THE ISOLATION O
while the aborigines of Australia are the
lowest in intelligence of all human beings.
Australia is in no sense inferior to New
Zealand in geographic interest, but lofty
peaks, profound canyons, and active vol-
canoes are lacking; its rivers are unim-
pressive and its permanent lakes small
and few in number; it is a continent com-
posed of plains interrupted by ridges and
mountain knobs.
Unique vegetation of remarkable va-
riety and beauty (see page 486), animal
life of by-gone geological periods (see
page 502), and an aboriginal population,
the lowest in the scale of beings having
human form, stand out as features dis-
tinctly Australian—a never-ending source
of interest to the geographer.
Australia is a large country. It is about
fourteen times the size of France or Ger-
many, twenty-five times the size of Italy,
Hungary, or Ecuador, and two and one-
half times the size of Argentina! its
chief competitor in the Southern Hemi-
sphere. Its area is equal to three-fourths
of Europe, one-third of all North Amer-
475
surface lacks variety.
~X
PuntaArenaet \_
F AUSTRALIA (SEE PAGE 473)
ica, and one-fourth of the British Em-
pire.
SOME COMPARISONS WITH THE UNITED
STATES
The continent is almost exactly the
size and is nearly the shape of the United
States (see map, page 476).
Of outlying provinces, Australia has
the tropical land of Papua to offset arctic
Alaska. The Commonwealth is respon-
sible also for the rich little Lord Howe
Island and for 800 inhabitants of Nor-
folk Island, descendants of ‘Tahitian
women and British sailors—mutineers of
the famous ship Bounty.
Australia is the most level in surface
and regular in outline of all the conti-
nents, and even of most large islands. It
is also the lowest continent, with an aver-
age elevation about that of Ohio. Its
The change from
one type of topography is so gradual and
significant natural features are so few
and so widely spaced that, with the ex-
ception of the Murray River, they are
OUTLINE MAP OF AUSTRALIA ON OUTLINE OF THE UNITED STATES, TO SHOW
RELATIVE SIZES
If we except the lakes, the land area of the continental United States is 2,973,800 square
miles, and of Australia 2,074,581 square miles,
square miles.
not utilized in marking the boundaries of
States.
Except for the low coastal mountains,
the obstructions to transcontinental rail-
roads from Queensland to Perth or from
Port Augusta to Port Darwin are less
than those between Pittsburgh and Den-
ver (see also page 489).
The traveler in search of duplicates of
the Canadian Rockies, the Yosemite, the
Grand Canyon, of Norwegian fiords and
Alpine scenery, need not visit Australia.
Its mountain scenery is that of the south-
ern Appalachians, the White Mountains,
and the low ranges of Arizona. Its plains
and plateaus are comparable with those
of the Rocky Mountain foothills and the
arid expanses of Utah, Idaho, and Ore-
gon. The blunt granite cap of Mt. Kos-
ciusko, 7,328 feet above sea, is the culmi-
nating Aon of land. A half dozen peaks
reach the height of Mt. Washington, and
a difference in favor of Australia of 691
something like one per cent of the entire
land area rises as high as the Catskills.
Although the mountains are low com-
pared with those of other continents,
their influence is great, for nowhere is
their control of rainfall and consequent
distribution of vegetation and people bet-
ter exemplified. A bird’s-eye view of
Australia shows a belt of vegetation ex-
tending along its north, east, and south-
east edges, with a patch on the extreme
southwest corner and another covering
most of the island of Tasmania. In these
regions the people live. The remainder
of the big island presents an enormous
expanse of brown and gray soils and
rock, dotted with patches of vegetation
on dunes and on isolated highlands and
strips of green along watercourses.
The cause is not difficult to find. The
trade winds abundantly supply the north-
east coast, but carry little water beyond;
476
115° wést 10° Loneituoes
100° FoR 95° THE 90° UNITED 85° STATES 80°
1
in
eg
10°
AHBUMSTEAD 115° ST - 125° LoNnGituDES 130°
° AUSTRALIA
OUTLINE MAP OF AUSTRALIA SUPERPOSED ON OUTLINE OF PART OF NORTH AMERICA
OF SAME SCALE, IN CORRECT LATITUDE
Only one-twentieth of the total area of Australia lies in a latitude farther removed from
the Equator than Chattanooga, Tennessee, Clarendon, Texas, and Albuquerque, New Mexico.
Considerably less than one-third of its area lies in a cooler latitude than the sugar-cane lands
of Louisiana.
the westerlies, the ‘roaring forties” of
the sailor, deposit their moisture on the
lands along Bass Strait and on the south-
west tip of the continent, but have little
or none to carry inland. The north coast
is alternately drenched and dried with the
coming and going of monsoons. ‘The
center of the continent is therefore arid,
large parts are desert, and the numerous
large lakes shown on the map are ex-
panses of salt mud covered with water by
infrequent rains (see page 488).
Australia’s streams are fewer and carry
less water than those of any other con-
tinent.
477
AUSTRALIA HAS NO RIVERS LIKE OURS
There are in Australia no Colorados
or Columbias or Tennessees, trenching
plateaus and crossing mountain chains,
and no counterparts of the thousands of
spring-fed brooks and streams issuing
from lakes widely scattered over the
country. The St. Lawrence system of
lakes and rivers of large volume and
steady flow is the very antithesis of any-
thing found in Australia. The large area
in Utah and Nevada from which dwin-
dling streams never escape to the sea is
represented in Australia by an enormous
VINOLOIA :MIATN AVUMAW WddA AHL ANV ‘(Load got*Z) OMSNIDSOM INNOW ‘VIIVYISAV NI MVAd 1
.)
WHOIN CHL
/
PONE RYN siRNA Es WNIOUE CON DINE NAL
expanse of territory, comprising fully
half of the continent.
The heart of the United States is a
well-watered land of fields and woods
and cities; the corresponding part of
Australia is dry and barren and thinly
populated.
The Murray-Darling is the one great
river system of Australia. From the
source of its uppermost branch, the Con-
damine, in the highlands of Queensland,
80 miles from the edge of the continent,
to its mouth, through the sand reef of the
Coorong, the stream travels 2,310 miles,
receiving supplies from 414,000 square
miles of land. It drains five-sixths of
New South Wales, more than one-half of
Victoria, and nearly one-seventh of the
entire Australian Continent (see map on
pages 480-481 ).
In relative length and area drained, it
is the Missouri- Mississippi of Australia ;
but in other respects the two systems are
quite unlike. The Mississippi, whose
basin occupies nearly three-sevenths of
the United States, flows through the heart
of the country and receives abundant
water from mountains on either side.
The Murray is on the edge of the con-
tinent, far removed from the interior ; its
course lies between well-watered high-
lands on the east and arid plains on the
west. The Mississippi receives supplies
from nearly every part of the 1,250,000
square miles of its basin; the Murray re-
ceives effective contributions from only
160,000 square miles ; from the remaining
254,000 square miles the water is lost be-
fore it enters the main stream, and the
dry air abstracts further toll from the
river itself.
Instead of a delta pushed out to sea,
the Murray terminates in a lagoon in-
closed by a barrier of sand pierced by an
inlet with scarcely seven feet of water.
Because of its unfavorable outlet, its
small volume, its snags and sand-bars and
great sinuosities, navigation of the Mur-
ray is limited to small, light-draft steam-
ers towing one or two barges. Regular
traffic in grain and wool is maintained
during seven months of the year from
the mouth of the river to Wentworth, 500
miles, and small boats reach Albury.
During times of exceptional floods
A479
boats have reached Walgett on the Dar-
ling, 1,900 miles from the sea. In the
flood year of 1870 a steamer went beyond
the Queensland border along a river 60
miles wide, and in 1890 steamers on the
Darling between Wentworth and Burke
“traveled for hours without seeing any
land, and in one instance discharged cargo
25 miles from the ordinary channel of the
tiver. But a few years later (1902-
1903) the Darling ceased to flow for
eleven months. During exceptional years
the bed of the Murray is partly dry and
the waters near its mouth become too salt
for stock.
THIS GREAT CONTINENT WAS NOT DISCOV-
ERED UNTIL JUST BEFORE OUR
REVOLUTION
That the size and form of a land-mass
nearly as large as Europe should have
remained unknown until 1770 is most
remarkable.
Louis de Torres, sailing from Peru
(1606), thought the northern Queensland
coast another of those island groups
(Marquesas, Solomon, New Hebrides)
through which he had passed. The Dutch
proceeding from Java several times met
the. west and north of Australia, but
learned little regarding the land. They
reported a “barren,” “wild” country, in-
habited by “barbarous,” “cruel,” “black”
people. Abel Tasman, in 1642, found
Van Diemens Land, Tasmania, which he
left in disgust. Following the westerly
winds he sailed east, found New Zealand,
but missed the Australian coast.
In 1688 William Dampier, an English
buccaneer, landed in West Australia, and
the following year mapped the coast,
which he described as “sandy and water-
less,’ with stunted trees, inhabited by
“the miserablest people in the world.”
These early explorers were singularly
unfortunate in the route which they
traversed. They visited the tropical belt
of northern Australia, the inhospitable
shores of western Australia, and sailed
along the southern coast, where cliffs pre-
vented landing and where for a distance
of nearly 1,000 miles no water was pro-
curable other than that from their ships.
The attractive parts of the country were
not seen at all. Small wonder that little
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BONEN AUiSdeR AEA:
was heard of the Great South Land for
nearly one hundred years after Dampier
made his official report to King William.
One is minded to compare the experi-
ences of these Pacific navigators with
those of the discoverers of North Amer-
ica. The English and Dutch, like their
predecessors, the Spanish, found the
North Atlantic seaboard “pleasant land,”
well watered, clothed with vegetation,
with obviously fertile soil, inhabited by a
virile race. If Columbus had first landed
on the barren shores of Lower California,
explored the Gulf of California, and sent
scouts into the Sonoran and Gila deserts,
the story to be told of a new world would
have had a far different wording.
The uncertainty surrounding the dis-
tribution of land in the South Pacific was
dissolved by the English scientific expedi-
tion of 1768-1770, “under Captain Cook.
After Cie Gna yieatine the islands of
New Zealand, Cook set his course west-
ward toward Tasmania, but, luckily, was
carried by storm winds to the east coast
of Australia. Proceeding northward, he
discovered the Great Barrier reef, and
passed through Torres Strait, proving
Australia to be a land-mass of great di-
mensions. Cook’s expedition revealed for
the first time the presence of wide belts
of fertile land in Australia, and his land-
ing at Botany Bay, Sydney, April 28,
1770, was destined to result in acquiring
a continent for the British Crown.
THE SETTLEMENT OF AUSTRALIA RESULTED
FROM- THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION
Curiously enough, the establishment of
the first colony on the new-found conti-
nent 1s an episode in the history of the
United States. It was proposed by the
British Government to utilize the land as
a home for the “Loyalists” (Tories) who
found life in the American Colonies un-
comfortable at the close of the Revolu-
tionary War. ‘They were to be supplied
with land and money, and Malay slaves
or English convicts were to be provided
as laborers.
Fear of the French fleet and the re-
moval of many Tories to Canada led to
the abandonment of this scheme, but an-
other use for Botany Bay was soon dis-
covered. Place must be found for unde-
sirable citizens, who, before the Revolu-
THE UNIQUE
CONTINENT 4895
tion, had been sent to America at the rate
of one thousand a year, and New South
Wales met the requirements: The his-
tory of Australia begins with the year
1788, when ten hundred and thirty-five
convicts under. military escort landed at
sydney Cove.
In looking back over the history of the
original settlement at Sydney, at first it
seems strange that the base of the Blue
Mountains, a plateau 3,000 feet in height
and a day’s ride from the coast, should
mark the edge of known land for twenty-
five years after colonization.
There are, however, good reasons for
this seeming lack of enterprise. The
Blue Mountains, though not lofty, are
broad, and constitute a formidable bar-
rier. ‘There are no long valleys heading
in practicable passes and furnishing ac-
cess from the east and the west; the
stream heads are boxes inclosed by walls,
and it was only when the narrow divides
were chosen for causeways that the pas-
sage of the mountain was successfully
accomplished (see page 487).
The famous “zigzags” of the first rail-
road, now replaced by a dozen expensive
tunnels required for the precipitous de-
scent of 2,000 feet, give even the casual
tourist an impression of the ruggedness
of the plateau; and when one is led out
onto one of a hundred flat-topped pro-
montories and gazes down into canyons
whose walls may be scaled only by an ex-
perienced mountaineer and looks out over
a tangle of canyons and cliffs and tables
at lower levels, he realizes that “magnifi-
cent scenery” for the present generation
must have been “disheartening obstacles”
to the scout in search of tillable land.
It is as if the only feasible crossing of
the Appalachians which confined the
American colonists to the coastal belt
were through the most rugged portion of
West Virginia rather than along the Mo-
hawk or through the Cumberland Gap.
The drought of 1813 appears to have
been the force which compelled the lead-
ers of the now prosperous colony to
undertake a systematic search for new
lands among and beyond the barriers
which held them close to the sea.
The history of the effort to discover
what lay back of these coastal regions in
the “land of the never-never”’ ; to find the
486
nature and extent of the heritage now
firmly in English hands is a dishearten-
ing but fascinating story. Whatever
route was chosen the results were the
same: tales of hardship and disaster and
reports of no good land.
TALES OF UNSURPASSED COURAGE
One of the most dramatic incidents
was the discovery of the Darling River
by a group of worn-out, disheartened
men traversing a scorched, waterless
plain. A great river was found, but its
waters were salt! The experience of
Sturt’s men carried involuntarily through
the gorge of the Murrumbidgee into the
broad channel of the Murray ; their jour-
ney to the sea down an unknown river
which followed an undreamed course,
and their arduous return up 800 miles of
current, with the scantiest of fare and
amid hostile blackfellows, constitutes a
record of endurance and resource com-
parable with Powell’s descent of the Colo-
rado canyons.
Parties from Sydney found little of
value beyond the Darling; Bourke and
Wills from Melbourne perished of star-
vation on Cooper Creek. Leichhardt dis-
appeared utterly. From Port Lincoln
and Adelaide, Eyre traversed the coast of
South Australia, finding only three water-
holes in 300 miles, and penetrated to the
center of that State only to discover its
watercourses dry and its lake beds coated
with brine. Stuart, in 1862, succeeded in
making a complete traverse of the conti-
nent from south to north, but found little
on which to base the nation’s future.
From the tropical portions of the Com-
monwealth came the same tale. The set-
tlement established on Melville Island in
1824 was abandoned in 1829, in spite of
the rich soil, good surplus of fresh water,
and abundance of tropical fruit. Fort
Wellington, on Raffles Bay, retained its
colonists for only three years. Kennedy,
on York peninsula, was killed by the na-
tives; his companions starved to death.
As a record of human endeavor the ex-
plorations of Australia during these years
constitute a chapter in history for which
the United States has no parallel. The
pioneers who crossed the Alleghanies
found fertile country beyond; the trap-
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
pers and traders on our northern bound-
aries were in country abundantly sup-
plied with food and water; the men who
pushed their way across the great plains
had forage and water for their animals
and wild game for themselves. The
forty-niners who crossed the deserts of
Utah and Nevada were encouraged by
knowledge of California beyond. Only
the Spanish explorers from Mexico and
pioneer travelers through the deserts of
Arizona and southern California can ap-
preciate the suffering and understand the
failures of the heroic Australian scouts.
To the colonists grouped about the five
cities on the mainland the results of these
explorations between 1840 and 1860 must
have been disheartening. The center of
the great continent, which their hopes had
pictured as grass-covered plains, fertile
valleys, lakes, and timbered highlands, in-
terspersed perhaps with arid stretches,
had turned out to be one of the most ex-
tensive deserts in the world, into which
streams rising near the coast were lost in
a sea of rock and sand.
It is as if the people of the Winited
States should wake up some morning and
find that all the land between the Alle-
ghanies and the Sierra Nevadas had been
converted into plains like the arid
stretches of Utah.
However, persistent explorations grad-
ually disclosed to the Australians that
their continent, in spite of its arid ex-
panse, had well- watered agricultural
lands for many millions of peoples, and
that the resources in timber and ores and
grazing lands were unusually large.
FORESTS OF ANCIENT LINEAGE
To me the most lasting impressions of
Australia are of its wonderful woods.
One readily understands why the Aus-
tralian loves his trees. The groves of
giant eucalyptus form pictures never for-
gotten, and the scent of the wattle brings
a homesick feeling like the smell of the
sage to a Westerner.
The flora is not only beautiful, it is
unique, and has no counterpart in other
lands. Of the 10,000 species of plants
most of them are purely Australian, and
are unknown even in New Zealand. The
general impression one gets of Australian
A ROAD SCENE NEAR GRAND ARCH, JENOLAN CAVES, NEW SOUTH WALES
For many years the beautiful Blue Mountains of New South Wales were a barrier to
the interior for the early colonists. With many mouths to be fed, an extension of territory
became imperative, and an expedition under the leadership of a Kentish farmer, George
Blaxland, for whom Mt. Blaxland was named, found a way through the mountains to the
fertile country beyond. Now motor-cars glide through these mountains over smooth roads
and tourists stop off en route to see the wonderful Jenolan Caves with their remarkable
stalactitic formations.
487
A MAP SHOWING THE RAINFALL IN AUSTRALIA
More than two-thirds of the territory of Australia has less than twenty inches of rainfall
a year. Washington, D. C., has 43 inches;
49; New Orleans, 57; Denver, 14;
Boston, 43; Chicago, 33; Kansas City, 37; Atlanta,
San Francisco} 22, and Seattle, 36.
Being without high
mountains, the continent has no summer snows to melt, which renders irrigation, except by
artesian wells, almost impossible.
Fortunately the configuration of bedrock makes artesian
irrigation possible in many places, though the water so obtained is usually brackish.
forests is their total unlikeness to any-
thing seen elsewhere. The great forests
of timber trees are not damp and shaded
and all of one species, but are well lighted
and filled with other forests of shorter
trees ; in places the woods consist of large
widely-spaced trees surrounded only by
bunch grass, and even in areas where
water is not to be found on the surface
for hundreds of square miles true forests
of low trees are present.
Forms which may be recognized as
tulip, lily, honeysuckle, and fern take on
a surprising aspect. They are not garden
flowers, but trees, and the landscape of
which they form a part reminds one of
the hypothetical representations in books
of science of a landscape of Mesozoic
time, a period antedating our own by
millions of years.
The trees are indeed those of a bygone
age. In America and Europe shadowy
torms of fossil leaves of strange plant
species are gathered from the rock and
studied with interest; in Australia many
of these ancient trees are living. The
impression that one is looking at a land-
scape which has forever disappeared
from other parts of the world is so vivid.
that the elms and maples and oaks in
some of the city streets strike a jarring
note. The transition from Jurassic to
modern times is painfully abrupt.
With a flora of such great interest, it
occasions no surprise to find that Austra-
lia is the home of many eminent botanists,
488
ELEVATIONS IN FEET
| OVER 2000
1000 TO 2000
“ 0 TO 1000
PHYSICAL MAP OF AUSTRALIA
The very small area in Australia having an elevation of more than two thousand feet
is clearly shown.
Perhaps more striking even than this is the fact that, except for a very
tiny area lying back of the coast in the southeast corner, there are no elevations exceeding
four thousand feet. >
and that geologic history is a common
subject of study in schools; but I some-
times wonder why the kangaroo and emu
occupy the commonwealth coat of arms to
the exclusion of the gums and the wattle,
about which the finer sentiments of Aus-
tralia center.
AUSTRALIA’S. NATIONAL, TREE
Australia is the home of the wonderful
eucalyptus, a tree about which a fair-sized
library of books and pamphlets has been
written, without exhausting the subject.
For geological ages the eucalypts have
remained undisturbed in this ‘biological
backwater,” and, spreading over the con-
tinent, have adapted themselves to many
varieties of soil and climate and elevation.
About 300 species have already been dis-
covered in the small part of the continent
explored by botanists.
It is a hopeless task for the tourist to
gain an acquaintance with this national
tree. As we passed through woods and
open spaces, seeing trees of widely differ-
ent aspect—different in form and method
of branching, different in color and kind
of bark, different in shape and size and
color of leaf, some oozing gum, others
clean and dry—it was disconcerting to be
quietly told by our botanist-guide that this
surprising array of trees “includes only
varieties of the genus eucalyptus.” It is
as if the traveler in New England were
489
BALANCING ROCK: NEW SOUTH WALES
x Australia is a land of the strange and curious, unlike any other on earth. While both
its fauna and flora are unusual to a startling degree, its geology is unique. Science claims
for it the distinction of being one of the oldest land surfaces.
)
a
490
CORALS FROM THE AUSTRALIAN BARRIER REEF, NORTH QUEENSLAND
Ages of time and the lives of myriads of coral polyps have gone to make up countless
forms like these in the Great Barrier Reef off the coast of Queensland,
the largest coral
formation in the world, 1,200 miles in length. The explorer Captain James Cook almost lost
his ship on the reef in 1870; but today, when the openings through it are known and charted;
as well as the channel which it protects, the barrier is regarded as a boon to coasting vessels.
told that all the maples, oaks, chestnuts,
elms, birches, and cedars, and even apples
and cherries, were but species of the
genus hickory.
The Australian is likewise embarassed
by these prolific variations of eucalyptus.
The trees in general are “gums’’—white
gums, red gums, blue gums, spotted gums,
cabbage gums—or onbaee stringy Savas
woolly bark, smooth bark, and when dis-
tinctions are necessary we get such com-
binations as narrow-leaved-red-ironbark,
or broad-leaved-yellow-stringy-bark.
LEAVES THAT GROW VERTICALLY INSTEAD
OF. HORIZONTALLY
Where conditions are favorable, the
eucalypts form forests of straight, slen-
der trees; where soil is. poor, they are
wide-spaced and branch like the Cali-
fornia oaks; on sand plains they develop
an enormous root, from which spring a
number of thin round stems leading to a
canopy of scattering leaves; and even
where soil and rain are practically absent
the genus is represented.
Eucalypts are evergreens, which shed
their bark, but not their leaves; but they
are not shade trees. The leaves. are
placed in inclined rather than in hori-
zontal positions, and the passage of light
is but little obstructed. For this reason,
smaller trees and bushes and grass grow
underneath, and the woods in places as-
sume the appearance of a jungle from
which arise the towering shafts of trees.
It is interesting to note that primitive
types of eucalyptus, as well as the young
of more modern types, have horizontal
leaves, pointing to a time in the geologic
past when the climate was more congenial
and no precautions to conserve moisture
need be taken.
The eucalypts include some of the
tallest trees in the world. The Victorian
Forests Department records trees which
491
Photograph from Janet M. Cummings
FERN-TREE GULLY IN VICTORIA, AUSTRALIA
Just as its long isolation kept out
A.
No other continent is so rich in ferns as Australia.
the animals of other continents and allowed species of old geologic ages to persist, so also
that isolation has resulted in the continuance of plant forms there that have lost the race
for existence in other continents. Among these are some of the great tree ferns that are
met with elsewhere only in fossil form.
GIANT TREE BRIDGE OVER RIVER TARWAN: GIPPSLAND, VICTORIA
Australia’s trees are largely forms that lived and became extinct in our own land more than
one million years ago
493
A FOREST SCENE (GROUP OF TURPENTINE TREES ) >: NEW SOUTH WALES
Eucalyptus trees grow about seven times more rapidly than oak or hickory, and they
also reproduce themselyes even more readily than these popular American trees. Their
strength is twice that of the English oak. Note the man.
404
ILOINIRIE SZ NUS IIAILIUA 2S INSIe, UINTOIWNS, COMMUN DEIN HE
measure 329, 333, and 342 feet, and states
that there are ‘scores of trees about 300
feet in height.” The surveyor of the
Dandenong ranges made notes of the tall-
est trees felled during an eight-year pe-
riod and reports that “all those measured
were over 300 feet in length.”
Eucalyptus trees reproduce themselves
readily and grow about seven times more
rapidly than oak or hickory. From a ton
of bark of the gimlet tree was obtained
by analysis 416 pounds of tannin extract
and 308 pounds of oxalic acid. From
the gum and leaves of these trees come
also the highly valuable eucalyptus oils,
from which no less than twenty-seven
constituents have been distilled for phar-
maceutical purposes and for the separa-
tion of metals by the flotation process.
The eucalyptus is the great timber tree
of the continent. Of sixty varieties in
Victoria, twenty have high commercial
value and are finding an ever-increasing
market. The Tasmanian blue gum is one
of the strongest, densest, and most dura-
ble woods in the world. Timbers 2 feet
Square, exceeding 100 feet in length, are
readily obtained, and, when used for pil-
ing, need not be weighted, for the density
of tne wood is such that it sinks in water.
THEIR STRENGTH REMARKABLE
Their strength is twice that of English
oak, and they are practically immune
from attack by the Teredo, which plays
such havoc with ordinary timbers. In
Tasmania railroad ties or paving blocks
of blue gum and stringy bark have a life
of fifteen to twenty years—three times
that of ordinary woods. In the dryer cli-
mate of Victoria blue-gum sleepers have
been in service for nearly forty years.
Shingles from peppermint gum have a
life of thirty to forty years.
The jarrah, a eucalyptus of West Aus-
tralia, is another famous tree. It is one
of the few woods of the world which
successfully resist the ravages of white
ants; it is practically immune from the
attacks of marine borers, and, like the
iron bark of Victoria and New South
Wales, has been known to withstand fire
better than iron girders. Piles of sawn
jarrah driven at Port Adelaide in 1868
“showed no signs of decay in I91o.”
The forests of West Australia also sup-
495
ply the karri, one of the world’s big trees.
It is straight and tall, reaching heights of
300 feet and 120 to 180 feet to the first
branch. Like the jarrah, its timber is
widely used where strength and durability
are requisites. The karri planking of a
dismantled ship, which had plowed the
seas for thirty years, was sawed into
blocks and used for paving. A log of
karri which had lain forty-six years in
mud below high-water mark was found
by a Royal Commission to be “perfectly
sound.” Their life as railroad ties is
twenty-five to thirty-five years.
AUSTRALIA DESTROYING HER TREES
In view of the present and prospective
value of Australia’s national tree, it is a
‘little surprising to find that cutting and
burning is proceeding with scant scientific
supervision. California and South Amer-
ica are planting eucalypts; Australia is
cutting them down.
Australian hardwoods rival mahogany
in beauty and susceptibility of polish, and
are unsurpassed among the world’s tim-
bers in strength, durability, and resist-
ance to fungous and insect attacks.
But soft woods for ordinary construc-
tion purposes are not abundant, and the
imports of lumber are correspondingly
large. During 1913 timber to the value
of $10,000,coo0 reached the common-
wealth from foreign parts, 70 per cent of
it from) the “United (States: im return,
Australia exported undressed hardwoods
of about half that value chiefly to New
Zealand, South Africa, India, and Eng-
land.
One effect of the scarcity of suitable
lumber is shown in the extensive use of
galvanized iron in building. Iron re-
places shingles for roofing, and in parts
of the country practically no other build-
ing material is used.
THE ANIMALS OF OTHER CONTINENTS—
HORSES, CATTLE, PIGS, TIGERS, LIONS——
UNKNOWN IN AUSTRALIA
The animals of Australia are so distinct
from the rest of the world that some have
proposed two great zodlogical realms:
Australian and non-Australian. The pe-
culiarity lies not only in the fact that
Australian types are not found elsewhere,
but also that families like the cats and
FOREST TWINS: AN IRONBARK AND A SPOTTED GUM
The ironbark is a species of the eucalyptus, very highly prized in work requiring great
strength and durability. Often it is preferred to steel and iron for girders and supporting
columns, since it is almost impervious to fire and does not bend or buckle when exposed to
unusual heat.
406
ILOINIEIENG INOS URAUUIPA 3 INSU, WINIIOIOIS, COMMON ID INA
the pigs, which are found native on all
other continents and on many islands, are
absent from Australia.
The continent has so long been isolated
that the passage for animals from other
land-masses has been closed for millions
of years. Species and genera have
evolved, and some even disappeared, in
other continents, while Australia remained
apart, and so it comes about that most of
the forms known in other lands are repre-
sented neither by living nor by fossil
species. The barrier of water which pro-
tects Australia from animal immigrants
from other countries was formed at the
beginning of the “Age of Mammals,”
before the prominent elements in the
world’s fauna—cats, swine, horses, cattle, |
sheep, elephants, camels, rats, rabbits,
bears, monkeys, etc.—had originated.
These, therefore, are not native to Aus-
tralia, which possessed mammals of only
the most primitive types.
THE WORLD'S STRANGEST ANIMALS
The great animal groups—the lizards,
tortoises, snakes, birds, fishes, crabs, etc.—
which developed in geological periods be-
fore the land bridges to other countries
had been destroyed, are represented in
Australia, but they have evolved along
distinct lines, and most of the genera and
species are peculiar to the continent.
The most primitive order of mammals,
the monotremes, are confined to Aus-
tralia. There is the platypus, a strange
beast which lays eggs like a turtle, but
suckles its young; has horny pads for
teeth and a bill like the duck; its front
feet are webbed, and both back and front
feet have claws. - Little wonder that he
has received many names, or that his
scientific designation is Ornithorhynchus
paradoxus (see page 502).
The spiny ant-eater is another strange
mammal. He looks and acts like a hedge-
hog, but he has a long beak and a longer
tongue, covered with a sticky substance,
with which he captures quantities of ants.
He not only burrows vertically into the
ground with great rapidity, but also
climbs with surprising agility. Like the
platypus, the spiny ant-eater lays eggs
which are hatched in a pouch and the
young reared on the mother’s milk.
497
The kangaroo is Australia’s national
animal, and the group to which it belongs,
the marsupials, is typically Australian.
Marsupials—mammals whose young are
born very immature and then transferred
to a pouch and suckled—have been long
extinct in Europe and are represented in
America by unimportant survivors, like
the opossum. They belong to a past geo-
logical age, and have survived and flour-
ish in Australia only because the entrance
of carnivorous beasts has been barred by
the protecting zone of water. Primitive
forms have been allowed to persist, and
degenerate forms have not been elimi-
nated.
COUSINS OF OUR ’POSSUM
Like the eucalyptus of the plant world,
marsupials have dominated the animal
kingdom of Australia, and in their adjust-
ment to a varied environment have
evolved species very unlike in form and
manner of life. In size they range from
the giant kangaroo, the height of a man,
to creatures no larger than mice, and
extinct forms include diprotodon as large
as a rhinoceros, kangaroos more than 10
feet high, and a huge carnivorous beast as
big as a polar bear.
Some marsupials live in trees; others
roam the woods or desert; still others
burrow in the ground. Some species eat
grass; others live on leaves. One large
group is carnivorous, eating flesh or in-
sects; another eats food of all kinds.
Some are nocturnal; others seek their
food by day.
AN ANIMAL WITH FIFTY-FOUR TEETH
The Tasmanian devil is a ferocious
beast; other forms are harmless, and
some are affectionate pets. One species
is blind; another has toes like the deer.
Some have few teeth, but the striped ant-
eater has fifty-four, the greatest number
in any living land mammal.
The great diversity of species is re-
flected by the popular names—tiger,
native cat, weasel, mole, rat, mouse, wolf,
bear, flying squirrel, opossum, ant-eater,
in addition to the terms kangaroo, wal-
laby, wombat, bandicoot, obtained from
the aborigines ; but all are marsupials.
The kangaroos and the closely related
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499
Photograph by Beattie
A EUCALYPTUS LOG FROM, TASMANIA
A great many of these logs are sawed up into paving blocks and exported to the énds of
. the earth (see page 495)
wallabies are the commonest of the larger
Australian mammals. ‘They play the role
of the American buffalo, formerly feed-
ing by thousands on the grass-covered
plains, but are now disappearing under
the attack of the sportsman and fur
merchant. In earlier days they formed
the chief item of food for the native
“blackfellows” and. for the pioneers.
They are generally harmless and shy, and
when approached the females hastily
gather their young into their pouches and
retreat to shelter by a series of enormous
hops at a rate exceeding 15 miles an hour.
When attacked at close quarters they de-
fend themselves vigorously.
An “old man” kangaroo standing on his
hind legs and tail, with his head as high
as that of a man, is no mean antagonist.
He boxes skillfully, and with his power-
ful hind leg and claw can rip up a dog at
a single stroke. When streams or lakes
are handy he seizes a dog, or even a man,
and holds him beneath the water until life
is extinct.
The “native bear,” or koala, belies his
name except in form. He is a lethargic,
unintelligent, fluffy little creature, an at-
tractive though unresponsive pet. In the
500
night-time he feeds on the leaves of the
gum trees; during the day he usually
sleeps curled up in the fork of a branch.
The young spend their time in their
mother’s pouch or hanging to the fur on
her back. The wombat plays the part of
the woodchuck; the bandicoot is the rat,
and the Tasmanian wolf the wild cat, of
the marsupial family. The most numer-
ous group of marsupials, like their name-
sakes, the ‘possum of the South, hide
away in daytime in hollow logs or trees,
or hold themselves on branches with their
long, prehensile tails, coming out after
dark to feed on leaves or fruit. Their
fur is in great demand.
A HUNDRED KINDS OF SNAKES!
Australia is supplied with 100 species of
snakes, three-fourths of them venomous.
The big pythons and rock-snakes are
harmless, but as one travels from the
tropics southward the dangerous varieties
increase in number, and in Tasmania all
are venomous, though only five are really
deadly, and fortunately these are rarely
seen.
The continent is also abundantly sup-
plied with lizards. Three hundred and
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PT PAE
FOREST OF EUCALYPTUS (MANNA GUM ) : NOTE THY THREE MEN
“To me the most lasting impressions of Australia are of its wonderful woods. One
readily understands why the Australian loves his trees. The groves of giant eucalyptus
form pictures never forgotten, and the scent of the wattle brings a homesick feeling iike the
smell of the sage to a Westerner” (see text, page 486).
bases
ee
AN ANIMAL THAT LAYS
BT AUR Yar:
Photograph of specimen in U. S. National Museum
ECGS Lik A TURTLE AND SUCKERS WEES) MOMING SER:
US OF AUSTRALIA
This is a web-footed, beaver-tailed, duck-billed creature which inhabits the river banks
of Australia and Tasmania.
naturalist who reported it a nature faker.
land there were those who believed it a
ninety species are recorded, and they may
be seen not only in woods and prairies
and deserts, in the water, among rocks,
and in trees, but also in the less frequent-
ed city streets. The monitors, or “igu-
anas,” attain lengths exceeding 6 feet.
Their favorite food is young birds and
eggs, which they secure by climbing trees
corkscrew fashion or robbing poultry
yards. Skinks are the most abundant
lizards and form an interesting series in
which limbs become gradually shorter and
toes gradually disappear until “the fore
limbs have vanished and the hinder are
reduced to rudiments with a solitary toe.”
The strangest of all lizards are the leg-
less one, one family of which is found
only in ‘Australia. ‘They look and move
like snakes, for which they are often mis-
taken. One of the forms (Pygopus lepi-
dopus), locally called the slow-worm, is
When it was first described the scientific world thought the
Even when a stuffed specimen was sent to Eng-
“fabrication out of the whole skin.’
with which to chew its food, but it lacks an external ear,
It has teeth
although its hearing is most acute.
about 2 feet in length, and so exceedingly
brittle that it snaps ‘into several pieces
when grasped back of the head. Some of
the lizards in the deserts exhibit bizarre
forms and are as beautifully colored and
as harmless as their namesakes of the
Colorado plateaus.
WAS AUSTRALIA EVER CONNECTED WITH
SOUTH AMERICA?
The lizards, also most of the flying
birds, crayfish, and insects, have their
nearest allies in the Malay Islands to the
north, and indicate a former land connec-
tion through the Pacific islands to Asia.
The animals of more ancient lineage, like
the marsupials, the air-breathing fish, and
the giant earthworms, have their nearest
living relatives in South America, and
suggest that at some time far back in the
history of the world the thousands of
A KANGAROO OF NEW SOUTH WALES
“An ‘old man’ kangaroo standing on his hind legs and tail, with his head as high as that
of a man, is no mean antagonist. He boxes skillfully, and with his powerful hind leg and
claw can rip up a dog at a single stroke. When streams or lakes are handy, he seizes a dog,
or even a man, and holds him beneath the water until life is extinct” (see text, page 500).
Australia may be said to be a museum in which animals that became extinct in other
parts of the world ages ago still persist in a modified form. The kangaroo is a representa-
tive of the general type—the marsupial. And of the kangaroos there are many species, from
the big grays and reds, the size of a man, to creatures no larger than mice (see page 407).
Many circuses have boxing kangaroos.
Photograph by B. W. Kilburn
THE PET KANGAROO AND HIS TRAINER: AUSTRALIA (SEE PAGE 497)
In nature, the kangaroo, when attacked and a
line of retreat is not open, usually backs up against a tree and defends itself with its fore
feet.
Trainers turn this method of defense to their advantage by putting boxing-gloves on
the kangaroo’s fore feet, and then training him in the manly art of self-defense; and the
boxer who can break through a kangaroo’s guard is a good one.
miles of sea now separating that continent
from Australia were crossed by a bridge
of land.
The lover of insects finds Australia an
interesting and but partially explored
field. Spiders, butterflies, beetles, moths,
wasps, bees, cicadz, are abundant, widely-
distributed, and include many forms of
great beauty and unusual habit. Some of
them are unique. The number of bush
flies which occur in summer is incredible.
In the arid regions it is impossible to eat
with even a semblance of comfort be-
tween sunrise and sunset, and traveling
without the protection of a head-net is
possible only for the skin-hardened bush-
man.
Of the neuroptera, the best-known and
best-hated species is the white ant—a
termite of unusual destructive ability. He
flourishes in deserts, in woods, and makes
his way into city buildings. Supports of
houses must be protected by caps of iron,
for few timbers are immune from his
attack. If printed accounts are to be be-
lieved, lead boxes and pipes are not
beyond the range of his voracious appe-
tite. The mounds built by the white ants
are odd-looking structures, firm as soft
wood and of various shapes. Mounds like
miniature haystacks scattered through
the woodlands or as thickly set as trees in
a forest are familiar sights in parts of the
continent. Shaft-like nests resembling de-
cayed stumps attain heights of 6 to 10
feet (see page 505).
A LAND OF BEAUTIFUL BIRDS
Australia is stocked with beautiful
birds, many of them of unusual aspect.
The man who originated the popular say-
ing that “Australian birds have plumage,
but no song,” must have lived in a sound-
proof box. Among the 775 species are
included some of the most brilliantly col-
ored, sweetest voiced, and most unusual
birds in the world.
Along the northeast coast is the bower
THESE QUEER ROCKS ARE NESTS BUILT BY.THE WHITE ANTS (Ss
bird, which adorns its nest and decorates
its playing ground with shells, seeds, and
other bright cbjects, not despising brass
buttons and cartridge cases (page 507).
The lyre bird, famous for its plumage,
is the rival of the mocking-bird of the
South in sweetness of tone and skill as a
mimic. The crow-shrikes (“magpies’’),
the brown flycatcher (“Jacky Winter’),
the bush warbler, the rock warbler, the
reed warbler, the bush lark, the cuckoos,
the honey eaters, and the “Willy-Wag-
tail” constitute parts of a bird chorus
difficult to surpass. Cockatoos are as
common in Australia as’ crows in the
Central West; even in the desert flocks
were frequently seen. Some of them are
excellent talkers, most of them gorgeously
dressed.
A most surprising bird is the kookoo-
burra, or laughing jackass. All at once
in the quiet bush come loud peals of up-
roarious, mocking laughter. One is not
inclined to join in the merriment—it all
seems as foolish and weird as if an idiot
boy were disturbing a congregation in
church. When the source of the laughter
is located, it turns out to be a silly-looking
bird with clumsy, square body and open
mouth sitting unconcernedly on a stump.
Some animals look so foolish, say and do
EE PAGE 504)
such silly things, and yet are so patient
and friendly that affection involuntarily
goes out to them. The kookooburra is
one of these and the bird which mocked
505
me at Mt. Gambier, and the solemn little
fellow which toddled about the yard of
my hostess at Melbourne will long remain
in memory (see page 506).
A BIRD-BUIL/T INCUBATOR
The ibis occur by thousands, and the
gigantic black-necked stork, or jabiru,
standing 5 feet high, inhabits the swamps
of the northern coast, while the graceful
black swan frequents the estuaries and
lakes. The mallee hen and the brush
turkey build mounds of sticks, leaves,
and earth 3 to 10 feet high. The eggs
are laid in burrows excavated in the
mound and are left to be hatched by the
heat resulting from decomposing vege-
table matter—a home-made community
incubator.
The cassowary of the forests of
Queensland and Papua and the emu,
which is found throughout the continent,
are unknown outside the Australian re-
gion. ‘The emu is the national bird and
shares with the kangaroo the task of up-
holding the shield on the commonwealth
coat of arms. It is a powerful bird, can
re
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a
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run at the rate of 15 to 20 miles an hour,
and break an ordinary fence by impact.
The ostrich has been introduced into
south Austraha and the export of its
plumes bids fair to assume considerable
proportions. Stray ostriches are occa-
sionally met with. On a smooth stretch
of desert road north of Port Augusta we
had an opportunity to gauge their speed.
It was a neck and neck race for 2 miles,
with the motor cyclometer registering 30
miles an hour.
THE ORIGINAL AUSTRALIANS
The isolation of the Australian Conti-
nent, so clearly reflected in its fauna and
flora, has left its stamp on the native race.
Like the kangaroo and the tree fern, the
aboriginal is a remnant of bygone days.
Paleolithic man, whose primitive tools
are eagerly sought in the caves and grav-
LAUGHING JACKASS
Photograph from Boston Photo News Co.
(SEE PAGE 505)
els of Europe, was alive in Tasmania
within the memory of people now living,
and Neolithic man is roaming the deserts
of Australia by hundreds.
Though comparatively little is known
of the aborigines and many tribes have
never been studied, there is general agree-
ment that the “blackfellow” is on the
lowest rung and perhaps at the very bot-
tom of the ladder of civilization. In the
opinion of Andrew Lang, “they are in-
finitely beneath the status in culture of
Paleolithic man of the mammoth and
reindeer period,” and their “manners and
rites were far the most archaic of all with
which we are acquainted.”
The Australian native* is unlike the
*The term “native” is used in the American
sense. In Australia the term is applied to
native-born whites. The original inhabitants
are “blackfellows” or aborigines.
From ‘Birds of Australia,” by John Gould
A BIRD THAT BUILDS A PLAYHOUSE AND GARDEN—THE AUSTRALIAN BOWER BIRD
There are several species of bower birds, chief among them the Satin and the Newton.
The Satin bower bird is the best known. When the bowers were first discovered it was.
supposed that they were playhouses built by the native children; but, as a matter of fact, they
are the dance halls of bird land. The nests are built in the trees and have no connectioim
with the playhouses. The male birds build these latter and gather every bright and shining
object they can find to adorn the entrance to the bower. When it is completed, according
to one who has watched them, little “at homes” are given daily, at which the males meet and
pay their court to their lady loves, now bowing and scraping, now playing hide and seek
through the bower, and now doing an absurdly dignified dance for their edification. Newton's
bower bird decorates its bower with fresh flowers every day, and if a visiting male bird
wants a fight all he has to do is to disturb one of these flowers. ‘The master of the bower
proceeds with the painful duty of teaching him how to behave in company, while the re-
mainder of the party raise a great racket, but never interfere. A naturalist studying them
disarranged one of their flowers, but each time he did it the bower master rearranged it
with great care.
negro, the Malay, the Mongolian, and the
American Indian in physique and facial
expression. His range in height is about
that of Europeans. Some individuals are
strongly built, but in general only the
upper part of the body is well developed.
The legs are usually thin and long, with
inconspicuous calves, the great toe is
“loose,” and the foot is about as useful
as the small, delicately formed hands in
picking up objects. A long skull, with a
low, flat forehead and brows overhanging
deep-set, intelligent eyes, a heavy lower
jaw, strong teeth, and a nose broad and
very flat, with wide nostrils, are conspicu-
ous features. His cranial capacity is 75,
as compared with 83 for the African
negro. Wavy or curly hair, not woolly
or frizzy, of auburn or black tones, is
abundant not only on the head and face,
but in some cases covers the body, and
many new-born children are coated with
long downy hair.
LITTLE USE FOR CLOTHING
With the arts the native is little ac-
quainted. He has no permanent build-
ings. His shelter is a cave or overhang-
ing rock, sometimes a piece of bark to
ward off rain or branches to shield him-
507
THE
Photograph from Boston Photo News Co.
NATIONAL BIRD—THE EMU
The emu is a bird that has relied on its legs for so long and used its wings so little that
it now cannot fly if it wants to, its wings having degenerated into mere rudimentary mem-
bers.
with force enough to break a man’s leg.
the cares of the household off the shoulders of his mate. T
feathers almost resemble hair, and it has three toes (see page 505).
two toes, while the emu’s
self from the sun. He does not bother
with clothes except when the weather is
particularly bad, and then bark or the
skin of the kangaroo is used without sew-
ing or fashioning. Some tribes use rushes
and seaweed for temporary clothing or
make a blanket from the dried scum of
lakes. For boats pieces of bark tied at
the end and daubed with clay suffice.
He makes no pottery, and cooking
utensils are represented by stones for
crushing roots and seeds, stone knives,
and a rudely fashioned scoop which
serves as a dish, a spade, and as a re-
ceptacle for carrying water. He knows
nothing of agriculture, and his one do-
mesticated animal is the dingo, a half-
wild dog.
The geography of Australia is such
that localities where food and water are
sufficient for a large number of people
are very scarce. There are no wild ce-
reals, and the native fruits are few in
508
It fights only in self-defense, but it can kick sidewise as well as backward, sometimes
Papa Emu is an amiable person, taking most of
The ostrich has plumes and only
number, restricted in distribution and of
meager nutriment, while water must be
searched for over half the continent.
The different tribes therefore have no
fixed abode beyond vaguely defined limits
inside of which they roam in search of
food like packs of hunting animals. The
groups are necessarily small and their re-
lations are governed by fear and sus-
picion. Infrequent contact has resulted
in the development of many languages
within the same race. In “one district
less than 300 miles square seven lan-
guages are spoken, one of them in two
dialects, one in five.”
MOST EXPERT OF HUNTERS
In endurance and speed he is not the
equal of the American Indian, and his
weapons of wood and poorly fashioned
stones are effective only at short range;
but as a hunter the native Australian is
marvelously adjusted to his environment.
His success lies in an intimate knowledge
of the habits of animals on land, in the
ground, in trees, and under water, and
his wonderfully developed powers of ob-
servation.
He decoys pelicans by imitating their
cries, catches ducks by diving below them,
locates an opossum in a tree by marks on
the bark or by the flight of mosquitoes,
finds snakes by observing the action of
birds, and follows a bee to its store of
honey.. Any animal which leaves a track,
however dim, in sand, on rock, or in the
grass, falls an easy prey to the black-
fellow. Children are taught to track liz-
ards and snakes over bare rocks and to
find their absent mother by following
tracks too indistinct to serve as a guide
for an European. When a white man is
lost in the desert or a child strays from
home, the final resort is to secure a “black
tracker.”
When in search of game or enemies,
the native is armed with a stone hatchet,
a boomerang, and a stout club, all stuck
Photograph by B. W. Wilburn
THE HAPPY NATIVE KANGAROO HUNTERS: QUEENSLAND
in a belt made of cords spun from hair
or fur, and with a sheaf of selected spears
and a throwing stick carried in the hand.
The spear is the principal weapon—long
ones armed with stone or barbed wood
for war and shorter ones of reeds tipped
with hard wood, or still shorter-pointed
sticks for hunting. ‘The effective range
of the spear is greatly increased by the
use of a wommera or spear-thrower.
THE.INVENTOR OF THE BOOMERANG
Clubs of all sorts are hurled at prey or
human enemies. ‘The best-known form
is the boomerang, made of a curved piece
of heavy wood about 2 feet long and 2
inches wide. The well-known return
boomerang, round on one side, flat on the
other, and slightly twisted on its axis, 1s
used as a plaything or to hurl at flocks
of birds in the sky. The war and hunting
boomerangs are heavier; they do not re-
turn to the thrower, but are deadly weap-
ons at ranges inside of about 400 feet.
Faced with starvation, the native knows
509
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