hundred and twenty feet long and 600 horse-power engines. It was the
finest running boat we have yet had the privilege of travelling on.
She runs through the blue waters of the Mediterranean like a duck,
counting off about fifteen knots per hour. She is the personification
of neatness, and the cuisine is excellent; and, after having so much
Syrian and gum Arabic _table d’hôte_, we certainly enjoyed the French
cooking. Many of our Beyrout friends came on board to bid us farewell;
and, as we steamed out of the harbor, we could look back upon College
Hill, and see the waving of handkerchiefs, which we returned as the
last good-by.
We took a south-west course, and before sundown we were running along
near the island of Cyprus. This island, one hundred or more miles long,
is Turkish territory; but the English government has leased it, paying
ninety thousand pounds per year. This was done as a military strategy.
The English hold the north end of the Mediterranean with Gibraltar. The
south end is held by this island. They keep a part of their navy and
soldiers here, and can throw them very quickly into Egypt or anywhere
in the Turkish provinces.
Monday morning the sun rose clear, a fresh breeze from the west, and
the sea looked like watered silk, while our engines in their quiet way
are pushing us through the blue waters. Everybody seems happy. You can
have a cup of coffee from 7 to 9, and breakfast at 10, lunch at 1,
dinner at 6, and tea and crackers at 8.30. Retire when you please.
About three o’clock in the afternoon we were coasting along the
shore of Asia Minor. At our right the hills and mountains had thrust
themselves, as it were, down into the sea, forming a promontory. Back
in the distance could be seen the snow-capped mountains. The country
looked rugged; but no doubt there were many fertile valleys and plains
nestled among those rugged cliffs that stood ready to be the first to
greet all mariners and passengers going up and down the Mediterranean.
Tuesday we are to pass the island of Rhodes. Finding the morning clear
and bright with a smooth sea, about 9 A.M. we bear to the right,
and run up into a beautiful bay, with hills and elevations on both
sides of us, studded with trees and foliage of green. In some places
the channel is quite narrow, reminding us of different places on the
Hudson. About one hour’s sail, and we anchor at a modern-looking town
of Vathy, on the island of Samos. Our steamer put off and takes on
merchandise here, and will remain the rest of the day, giving us a
chance to go ashore. No backsheesh will be called for here; for, as
they say, every one is rich.
Samos is Turkish, but, like Lebanon, has a right to a Christian
governor, the European powers dictating in the matter; and we see no
mud houses and squalor that is seen in most of the Turkish provinces.
It is said that they make the finest wine in the world, that being the
main product. Our steamer is loading it by the quantity. They import
as it were nothing, but export much. Hence we can understand how they
grow wealthy. We take on three hundred and fifty casks that weigh
almost a ton to a cask. We have wandered upon the side of the mountain,
looked the people over, and talked with those that could talk English.
We see no veiled women, the dress of all being quite American; and we
are delighted with Vathy. The island of Samos, which is seventy miles
in circumference, the people pay the Turkish government two thousand
pounds a year for, and then run things as they please. A cannon was
fired at sundown, and the sweet notes of the bugle sounded, notifying
the people that twilight was soon to settle down upon them. There are
forty thousand people on the island.
At 7.30 the “Senegal” weighed anchor, and headed her prow down the
bay; and the crescent-shaped town that had climbed from the shore up
the mountain a mile or more threw out its lights, and our farewell look
at Vathy was a beautiful one, and will be long remembered.
Wednesday morning before we had left our cabin our steamer had cast
anchor; and the jabbering of the native boatmen was all about as we
hurried on deck, and found that we were in front of a town of some
twenty thousand inhabitants, being the city of Smyrna. We have been
sailing over some of the route that Paul went over when going up to
Jerusalem. (See Acts xx.) John, in Revelation, speaks of Smyrna as
having endured. (See Rev. ii. 8, 9.)
Smyrna stands next to Constantinople in commercial importance,
being second in the Turkish empire. It has a fine harbor, buildings
stretching along the bay for miles, then gradually rising back on the
hills that line the coast. On the top of the hill are the ruins of
an old stone castle or fort. South of this you will find the tomb of
Polycarp, the first martyred bishop. Smyrna was once a walled city. The
old ruined wall and stone aqueduct that formerly supplied the city with
water are among the things of interest that you will want to look over.
We find Smyrna remarkably neat for this country. Good water and plenty
of it, and good sewerage.
The bazaars are far above the average of those we have seen since
entering the Turkish territory. Many fine stores with many French
goods in them are to be found here. There are two things here that
are household words with us in America; that is, Smyrna rugs and figs.
We have seen stacks of the former, and have had fine figs at our
command. The American Board of Missions have a hold on the people here
in Smyrna. Rev. Mr. Bartlett, who at one time preached at Morrisville,
Vt., is at the head, with several helpers. The work is among the young.
We have visited the mission, and the missionaries have called on us on
board the “Senegal.”
The sultan of Turkey is strong in his Mohammedan belief; and he is
watching the influence that true Christianity is having on his people
with a jealous eye, and is bound to hold them with rods of iron.
Thursday morning we take small boats for the shore, and then take the
street-cars down the bay for a mile, where we find a special train for
Ephesus, some forty-eight miles. We take an easterly course, finding
our way through the hills that line the shores of the Mediterranean,
and soon begin to open out upon a broad plain. We first go through a
place called Paradise; but we enter it through a large burying-ground,
which seemed rather suggestive. But on we go; and the valley becomes
miles in width, covered with fig trees, some olive vineyards, etc. Off
at your right you will see trains of camels coming and returning to
and from Smyrna, loaded with grain and merchandise from and for the
interior. Farther on you will see large herds of sheep. From these come
the wool for the Smyrna rugs.
After one and one-half hours of enjoyable riding, the hills and
mountains that have guarded us on each side seemed to come together
close to us, and form a gateway through which we pass, coming into a
valley nearly surrounded by hills, where once was the great city of
Ephesus, referred to in Acts xviii. 19. To-day there are only two or
three hundred people. See what John says, Rev. ii. 4-10. But you can
ride miles and over hundreds of acres, and see old ruins. One thing
very peculiar is, as you go into the town, every old column and minaret
seems to be topped out with a stork, standing there in its loneliness.
The tip of the wings and tail is black, while the rest of the body is
white.
The modern name of this place is Ayassacook. I think it ought to be
Storkville. The nests of the storks are on these columns. A short
distance west of this little village is quite an elevation, on which
are the ruins of an old Roman castle. You ascend to that point, and
you get a view of the whole valley. Down at the base on the south side
are quite respectable ruins of an old mosque. A little farther on you
will see men at work excavating, and it proves to be the site of that
wonderful temple of Diana of the Ephesians.
They have decided to learn more of that building that Demetrius stirred
up such a commotion about among the people, regarding the shrines of
Diana, and are spending money in digging over the ruins. I have always
admired the town clerk they had at that time, and looked about for some
of his documents, but was not able to find them. His counsel, you will
remember, was not to be rash. If Paul had done anything wrong, they
had the law. He seemed to be level-headed. (See Acts xix. from 35th
verse.)
From this elevation, looking west about two miles distant, you see the
waters of the Mediterranean. Ephesus used to be a great seaport and
commercial city; but Smyrna has stolen its thunder, and all this kind
of traffic is at Smyrna to-day. Righteousness exalteth a nation, but
sin is a reproach to any people. The best thing we saw at Ephesus was a
comfortable little hotel where we went for lunch. The proprietor showed
us his register for 1878, where General U. S. Grant had booked his
name. He felt quite proud of having had so noted a guest.
3 P.M. found us back at Smyrna. At four we were steaming out of the
bay. Friday about noon we reached Thessalonica, a town of a hundred and
twenty thousand people, one-half Jews. It is beautiful for situation,
forming a crescent around the bay. A portion of the place rises up to
quite a height; yet there is much level or rolling land in and beyond
the city; and it has an extra fine farming country back of it. The
business is largely trade with the surrounding country. It has one
cotton mill, and they would like a woollen mill to make flannel. Wool,
cotton, and cereals are their main products. Our steamer remained at
Thessalonica until Saturday morning. The Congregational party went
ashore, and took carriages through the city, found many good buildings,
thought it a comparatively neat town. We saw some native Albanians.
They wore a white pleated skirt, very full, coming down about to the
knees, reminding me of ballet girls.
The dress of the people of the country we have been travelling through
the last six weeks has for its watchword “variety.” You see everything
that fashion is heir to, colors vying with the rainbow; and you can
be entertained at any time by standing on the corner of the street or
sitting on your hotel piazza, and watch the surging crowds as they pass
by.
Reaching Athens nearly finishes our travels on the Mediterranean,
having been on her waters in all some fifteen days. She has behaved
beautifully, though we understand she is capable of getting her back up
and making things lively; but she has lately been on her good behavior,
and passed us over her smooth waters, giving us a charming ride. At
times we were out of sight of land, but usually we could see the foot
of hills and mountains, sometimes towering so high as to hold the frost
of winters firmly in their grasp. We have enjoyed many an hour on deck,
watching the light shade to crimson, blue, gray, and green, changing
like the kaleidoscope,--the brilliant rays of morning, the soft and
beautiful shades of twilight. This and the pleasant chatting with those
who but three months ago were strangers to us, but now are cherished
friends,--all this environment rushes in upon us to fill the book of
memory with a richness that will be a joy to us as time rolls on.
We have been sailing through the archipelago, and have passed the
plains of Marathon, where the Athenians fought and won that terrible
battle with great odds against them with Darius the Persian. Saturday
night we were informed that we should reach the Piræus, which is the
port of Athens, at five o’clock Sunday morning. Wishing to get a view
of the harbor and city that was at one time the wonder of the world,
I decided to be on deck at four o’clock. The boat proved to be an
hour late. Therefore, I had a chance to enjoy the whole scene. When I
reached deck, the hills on each side were gathering down upon us; but
erelong we spied in the distance the Acropolis with its ragged top,
standing back from the shore, but showing us the location of Socrates’s
home. Soon on the shore we could see tall chimneys and a cluster of
buildings which proved to be the Piræus. The “Senegal” steamed up the
harbor, and anchored not very far from shore. Boatmen were on hand, and
men, women, and baggage were soon landed on _terra firma_; and we soon
found ourselves in some fine landaus, and were driven five miles over
as fine a road as is usually found in any country. The cars run up to
the city; but carriages seemed to be the order of the day, landing us
at the Grand Hotel, where we found breakfast ready and everything more
than satisfactory. Will give you a picture of Athens in my next letter.
LETTER FROM GREECE.
ATHENS, May 29, 1895.
The last port we left before reaching this place was on Turkish
territory. The streets were full of Turkish trousers, turbans, and the
fez, with all the brilliant colors that Persian dyes would make. But,
when we reached the Piræus, a place of three thousand nine hundred
people, which is the front door and vestibule of Athens, we found that
the baggy Turkish trousers had wonderfully diminished in size. The
brilliant colors had become sombre, the turbans and the fez had been
laid away in the archives of the past, and the American hat is touched
as you meet the people. For a little spice you would occasionally meet
an Albanian with his white pleated skirt coming down to within some
four inches of the knee, with tight leggings coming up as high as the
law will allow. The full Grecian sleeves and waist trimmed with gold
lace, the sleeves hanging down below the elbow, made a very jaunty
suit,--something that will cause you to leave all the rest of mankind,
and gaze till your curiosity is satisfied.
When we landed and met the people of this country, we noticed that
the gesticulating, exciting motions we had been accustomed to were
missing; but everything they said was Greek to us, and all we could
say was nonentenday. However, we prefer the Athenians to the Turks and
Syrians.
The Piræus is modern and full of thrift, has a fine harbor full of
merchant vessels, and is doing a large inland business. In ancient
times one of the old kings walled in the Piræus with Athens, running
the walls from the coast up around Athens, making the two places one,
although they are some four or five miles apart. As you take the
drive up the valley from the Piræus, you will see the relics of the
old walls. When you reach the city, you will find there is an old and
new Athens. The historical and beautiful Athens was once the hub of
the world. Art, science, literature, poetry, and sculpture were once
centred here; and, as you walk about the city, you are constantly being
reminded that the glory of these things has not entirely departed. From
the ruins of the old temples they are digging up the Corinthian, Doric,
and Ionic columns and architecture.
In the new and beautiful buildings this same style is being reproduced.
This city reminds us of Rome in many things. Rome has one advantage;
and that is an abundance of water, which Athens is not favored with.
Statuary abounds in both cities. You will see Plato, Socrates,
Demosthenes, and that class of men, sitting or standing in the public
places or connected with the public buildings of Athens.
If you are going to look over the city, the first thing to do is to
go with me to the Acropolis, the word meaning height of the city.
Nature held out a helping hand to the kings, and threw up a conical
hill some two hundred feet high, not round, but oblong. The top is of
lime-rock or granite and flat, with a surface of some two acres, being
precipitous except on the west side. The kings threw a wall around the
edge of the top of this elevation, and on the top built the temples.
The entrance on the west side was guarded by what is called Enneapzion
Pilasgikon, or nine gates. This place became the home of the Athenian
kings. Here they sat in judgment, and assembled their councils.
[Illustration: ACROPOLIS AT ATHENS.]
Later these were removed to the town, and the Acropolis devoted to the
gods. These temples were at one time destroyed by the Persians, and
were rebuilt in greater splendor than ever by Pericles. The Pantheon
was its pride, and when at its best, with its white marble and gold,
with the Erechtheion, was the glory of the city, and has gone into
history as one of the wonders of the world. Its present destruction,
with part of its temples standing and the ground strewn with broken
columns, is due to an officer of a besieging army firing a bomb into a
magazine of powder that was stored on the Acropolis.
As you stand there, looking down the bay, you see the Piræus. Beyond,
some thirty miles, you see Acrocorinthus, showing the location of
Corinth. As you turn and look south, at the foot of the hill is the
theatre of Bacchus. This was without a covering; and the stage was at
the bottom of the hill, while the seats were in amphitheatre style,
coming up to the upright walls of the Acropolis. The seats were of
stone. In the first rows were marble chairs for the great men of the
nation. In the centre was a marble platform in which sat the king.
The theatre would seat thirty thousand. At the right was a colonnade
built, where they could go between the acts and promenade at pleasure.
A little farther to the right was the Odeion, a small theatre built of
stone in the same way, only it was covered.
We are now looking over old Athens. Much of it has been demolished and
covered up, and has become a pasture for the goats. Looking west again
a few hundred rods, you will see the hill of the Muses. As you commence
to rise, the hill is a perpendicular rock. Into this rock there have
been made prison rooms, with three doors to enter. Here was where
Socrates was imprisoned, and ended his life by taking hemlock. On the
top of this elevation is the tomb of Philopappos. Looking north-west
only a short distance from the Acropolis is what was in ancient times
and is now called the Areopagus, or Hill of Mars. Paul went on to Mars’
Hill. (See Acts xvii.) A few of us went there. The day we arrived being
the Sabbath, the Rev. C. P. Mills, of Newburyport, read the last part
of that chapter. It seemed like hearing direct from the author.
A little west of Mars’ Hill is another elevation, with stone steps
leading up to it. Up those steps went Demosthenes, when he spoke to the
people of Athens. As you stand on the Acropolis and view the landscape
over, you can see in your mind’s eye those giants moving among the
people, with ideas in advance of their time, which have rung down
through the ages.
Turning around more to the north-west, looking down at the base of
the Acropolis is where the markets were located, and where it is
supposed Paul often went and proclaimed the Christian doctrine to the
Athenians. A little beyond is the temple or tomb of Theseus, which
is said to be the best preserved relic of old Athens, with its Ionic
columns all intact.
We have been gazing mostly at our feet. Let us now take a sweep around
the country. At the south some eight miles lies Mount Hymettus. From
this section came the famous honey of Hymettus. We have had it on
our table every day since we arrived. Around to the east is Mount
Pentelikon. From these two mountains come the beautiful marble that
formed the temples and buildings of old Athens, and the new city is
indebted to those mountains for the beauty that attracts the stranger’s
eye to-day. These mountains seem to encircle Athens, forming a
beautiful background, standing as it were like guardians of her welfare.
Just east of the town is Mount Lykabettos, a small, conical hill, about
six hundred feet high, on which is the chapel of St. George. This hill
is very symmetrical, with green foliage two-thirds the way up. The
other third is of lime-rock and granite, and with the white chapel on
top is one of the first things the stranger will notice as he comes
into the city. Before leaving the Acropolis, you will see beyond Mars’
Hill the hill of the Nymphs, on which is a beautiful observatory,
built by the Baron Sina, of Vienna. He also gave the city a beautiful
building called the Academy of Science, of which I will speak later.
From our standpoint we have a fine view of the new part of Athens. Away
to the east it is beginning to climb up to Mount Lykabettos, and north
it is stretching out across the plain with fine streets and avenues and
foliage of green, making a pretty picture. Here we find a great many
pepper-trees. Their beauty is known to every one that has ever seen
them. The streets are nearly all macadamized, and would be a paradise
for the cyclist. Let us now return to the Grand Hotel, standing on
the Place de la Constitution, where you find all the best hotels of
the city, as well as the king’s palace. Take a carriage, and go east
by the palace, then south ten minutes, and you come to the Stadium.
This is where in olden times they used to have their chariot and foot
races, the throwing of trays, etc. Nature did her part in forming this
institution and art the rest. It is a flat piece of ground of some two
acres, with an embankment around it some twenty feet high, in the form
of a horseshoe, being narrow at the heel, leaving a place to enter.
Most of this was natural, though the heel seemed to have been fashioned
by man.
This embankment formerly contained marble seats, and was capable of
seating fifty thousand people. In some of Athens’s misfortunes and
depressions these games were given up, and the marble carried away
and used for other purposes. But the city has decided to renew those
exhibitions, and are now putting in the marble seats. They believe it
will attract tourists and draw a large number of people to the city.
At the end opposite the entrance is an underground passage-way leading
to the outside of the embankment as well as outside the city. The
victors returned to the city the way they came in, crowned with laurels
while the vanquished went out through this tunnel, and never showed
their faces in the city again. The Stadium will not be completed until
next season. Therefore, we will retrace our steps, and take a drive
down the Boulevard de l’ Université, and return on the Rue du Stade,
two streets that run to and from the king’s palace, parallel with each
other, lined with pepper-trees.
Here you will find some of the finest buildings in Athens. One of the
first that will meet your eye is the Academy of Science, built by Baron
Sina, of Vienna. This is of Pentelic marble, with Ionic colonnades
and in classic Grecian style. As you enter to go up the broad marble
steps and walk, you can, if you choose, be introduced to Plato sitting
at your left and Socrates at your right. The marble and gold before
you will thrill you with admiration. The group in the pediment of the
central structure represents the birth of Athena. The gables are filled
with statuary. As you enter the main hall, high up on the walls are
beautiful paintings by Griepenkerl, of Vienna,--Prometheus lighting his
torch in the presence of Athena, Prometheus breathing life into man in
the presence of Athena, etc.
At the farther end of the hall stands Baron Sina. He must have been
a fine subject to have operated upon; but, aside from that, the
workmanship is exquisite, and will hold you spell-bound as you look
upon it. It was executed, as was much of the other statuary, by Drosos.
Beyond this building is the University of Athens, standing in its
beauty and wonderful capacity, with sixty professors and some two
thousand students.
It is organized on the German system, and is said to be doing fine
work. It has a library of one hundred thousand volumes. In this section
of the city is the museum, which it will be well for you to visit when
you have time. It abounds with statuary, and much of it was very fine.
Old Neptune attracted my attention as much as anything. He looked
as though he had just come up out of Plymouth Pond, with his locks
dripping, spear in his hand, and a big fish by his side.
We must hurry on, for it is time for lunch, but must call your
attention to the Palace Olion built by Dr. Schliemann and now occupied
by his widow, also on our return we might step into the House of
Parliament, which is a stately-looking building, though the inside
looks a little rusty.
Greece is poor, and has hard work to raise money enough to pay the
interest on her debt. Dr. Schliemann, whose residence I have just made
mention of, was the great explorer of the plains of Troy; and we expect
to see much that he found there in the museum at Constantinople. While
at Athens, we took a drive one afternoon to Eleusis, ten miles from
Athens, going over what is called the sacred way.