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[Illustration: WE ENTERED THROUGH THE GATE OF JUSTICE.]
A TRIP TO THE ORIENT
The Story of a
Mediterranean
Cruise
BY
ROBERT URIE JACOB
[Illustration]
ILLUSTRATED
THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.
PHILADELPHIA
Copyright 1907, by
ROBERT URIE JACOB.
Half-tones made by
The Photo-Chromotype Engraving Co.
Philadelphia, Pa.
PREFACE.
"A Trip to the Orient, the Story of a Mediterranean Cruise," by Robert
Urie Jacob, has been written at the request of fellow-travelers who did
not have time to take notes by the way.
One said, "Do not write a guide book nor a love story, but a simple
narrative that will recall the incidents and delightful experiences of
the tour." Following these suggestions, but with many misgivings, the
author has undertaken and completed the work, assisted in the editing
and proof-reading by Miss Ruth Collins, of the Drexel Institute, and by
Miss Anna C. Kauffman.
An interesting feature of the book is the large number of illustrations
made from artistic photographs, all of which have been kindly
contributed by amateur photographers. It contains nearly two hundred
illustrations of views or incidents in Funchal, Granada, Algiers, Malta,
Athens, Constantinople, Jerusalem, Cairo, Luxor, Naples, and Nice,
reproduced from photographs taken by Mr. L. O. Smith, Rev. G. B.
Burnwood, Mr. Charles Louis Sicarde, Mr. Franklin D. Edmunds, Mr.
Roberts LeBoutellier, Mrs. Charles S. Crosman, Miss M. Florence
Pannebaker, Mr. Walter F. Price, Mr. S. L. Schumo, Mr. George C.
Darling, Mr. Howard E. Pepper, Mr. John W. Converse, Mr. C. Edwin Webb,
and Mr. Edwin Alban Bailey.
The story was intended specially for voyagers who have visited the same
places, but it may be almost equally interesting to those who are
planning a similar trip. And those who must stay at home may in these
pages be able to look through another's eyes at the places described.
If the book should in any slight way deepen the pleasant memories of
those who have made the trip, or if it should give pleasure to those who
must picture those scenes only in their imagination, the author will
feel that his effort has not been in vain.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. ON THE OCEAN 1
II. FUNCHAL 10
III. GIBRALTAR 24
IV. GRANADA AND THE ALHAMBRA 38
V. THE CITY OF ALGIERS 60
VI. THE ISLAND OF MALTA 82
VII. ATHENS AND THE ACROPOLIS 97
VIII. CONSTANTINOPLE AND SANTA SOPHIA 128
IX. THE SELAMLIK AND THE TREASURY 154
X. FROM THE BOSPORUS TO PALESTINE 179
XI. JERUSALEM 199
XII. THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE 227
XIII. CAIRO AND THE PYRAMIDS 257
XIV. LUXOR AND KARNAK 296
XV. ON THE NILE 327
XVI. NAPLES AND POMPEII 353
XVII. NICE AND MENTONE 378
CHAPTER I.
ON THE OCEAN.
"Have you decided to go?" inquired my friend. Before us on the table lay
an illustrated booklet containing the prospectus of a cruise to the
Mediterranean. Its contents had been under consideration for some days.
"Yes," I answered, "I will write to-day to secure state room
accommodations for our party. Nevertheless I am not quite sure that it
is wise to take the trip."
"Why?"
"For two reasons. First, are seventy days long enough to make a cruise
of nearly fourteen thousand miles and visit so many places? Second, with
five hundred passengers will there not be a crowd?"
"Well, those doubts never troubled me. Seventy days is all that can be
spared from my business, and much may be seen in that time. As to the
number of passengers, every steamer carries its full complement. At any
rate, you are going, so think no more of your doubts. You will probably
forget that you had any."
So it was that at seven o'clock on the morning of the fifth of February,
when the steamship Moltke left her dock at New York, we stood among the
passengers lined along her rail. The hawsers had been cast off, whistles
were blowing, and tugs were puffing in their efforts to push and pull
the huge vessel into the stream.
At that early hour of a wintry day there was no crowd filling the pier,
no sea of faces looking upward, no waving of handkerchiefs and flags,
the usual sight when a great liner departs. The wharf, cheerless and
dismal, appeared to be almost deserted. Its only occupants were a few
scattered onlookers shivering in the cold, and the officials and
employees whose duties required their presence. But on the Moltke, in
spite of the chill air and the gray morning, all were animated and
eager. The band played the "Belle of New York" while the ship was being
warped into the stream, and the "American Patrol" while it was steaming
down the river. The tourists, alert and expectant, viewed the panorama
of the city as the tall buildings were brought into strong relief
against the brightening sky, saw Liberty's cap reflect the rays of the
rising sun, then watched the incoming steamers, and the forts and
lighthouses that seemed to approach and pass. Just outside of Sandy Hook
our pilot with a satchel of letters descended the rope ladder to the
waiting tug, and soon afterwards the low-lying shores became dimmer and
dimmer until they disappeared from view.
The farewells had been exchanged on the previous day, when the promenade
decks and saloons of the steamer were thronged with passengers, friends,
and curious visitors, and the after-deck was encumbered with piles of
baggage. Then, the tables in the main saloon were filled with boxes of
flowers, baskets of fruit, packages of confectionery, and bundles of
steamer letters marked to be opened on certain days after sailing.
Before the departure we had met the deck steward and with his
assistance had located our steamer chairs; for in the places then
selected the chairs were to remain throughout the long cruise. We had
also interviewed the chief steward, had obtained from him a passenger
list, and had arranged that our party should be seated together at one
of the side tables in the dining saloon.
[Illustration: AT THE HOUR OF AFTERNOON TEA.]
The passenger list contained four hundred and fifty-three names. Among
these were thirteen preceded by the title Reverend, thirteen by Doctor,
and a number by military or other titles of honor. Every state in the
Union and several provinces of Canada had representatives on the list.
During the first three days' sailing a storm, which had been predicted
as approaching from the west when we left New York, followed but did not
overtake us. We could not, however, remain on deck as long as desired,
for the wind was chilly and the ocean rough. But each morning, laden
with heavy wraps and rugs, we sought our steamer chairs. Then, settled
comfortably under the wraps and rugs carefully tucked around us by the
attentive steward, we defied the cold for an hour or two and inhaled the
invigorating air.
As the vessel made her way southward, the temperature moderated and the
sea became smooth. By the time the stormy weather had passed, the
tourists, accustomed to ship motion and ship life, spent most of their
time upon the decks. Then, to increase sociability and make the time
pass pleasantly, self-appointed committees met and laid plans for card
parties, lectures, concerts, and dances.
On the fifth night out the southern side of the promenade deck was
curtained with awnings, cleared of chairs, decorated with flags and
Chinese lanterns, and brilliantly illuminated with clusters of electric
lights, for an impromptu dance. Music was furnished by the band, and
Father Neptune kindly kept his waves in subjection, although an
occasional roll caused some unsteadiness in the movements of the
waltzers.
By that time we knew many of our fellow-voyagers. For, as we had similar
plans, a common destination, and the same pleasures in anticipation, we
readily made friendships. We chatted around the table during the
luncheon and dinner hours, took a hand in euchre with men in the smoking
room, or a place at whist with the ladies in the music room, and
exchanged pleasantries and experiences with our neighbors while
occupying the steamer chairs. Friendships grew rapidly under these
favorable conditions. Sometimes chats with new acquaintances which began
in a mirthful way changed to talks of a serious kind as some spoken word
recalled home and friends left behind, and conversations when prolonged
became almost confidential in their character.
One afternoon while we were sipping the tea which had been served, a
lady who occupied a chair next ours, said:--"I enjoy so much my hours in
the gymnasium. Each morning I take a gallop on the electric horse and
get my blood into circulation. The first day I felt rather timid in the
saddle when the custodian asked, 'Fast or slow?' so I said, 'Start
slow,' but I quickly had him increase the speed, for I'm used to
horseback riding."
"We're from Texas, you know," spoke up a young woman sitting close by.
"You should practice riding on the electric camel in preparation for our
trip into Egypt," I suggested.
"We have; we've tried all the arm and foot movements and have been
thumped on the back, and on the chest, and even on our heads," responded
the young woman. "But I wished for a rowing machine. Rowing is my
favorite exercise."
"Before we left home we all had many misgivings about this trip,"
remarked the elder sister. "We knew how large these steamships really
are, but yet we had visions of many possible discomforts during so long
a journey. We disliked tours in sleeping cars and couldn't realize the
difference between traveling in cars and in ships. But our stateroom
here is very cozy with the wardrobes and the racks for our books and our
pictures."
"And it seems homelike, too," added the other.
The life on shipboard was to many a novel experience. In the mornings we
were roused from our slumbers by the notes of a bugle. The first day
when the reveille sounded I looked at my watch. It was a quarter to
eight. "Must I get up?" I thought. Then remembering that the breakfast
hour was from eight to ten, I closed my eyes. But soon there came a
gentle tapping at the door. "Who's there?" I asked. "Your bath is ready,
sir." The words were English but the accents were plainly German. That
call was more imperative than the bugler's, for I might miss my
invigorating salt water dip if I did not quickly respond. After a
breakfast of fruit, cereals, chops, and coffee we went to the deck for a
tramp. "Ten rounds of the promenade deck make a mile," said my
room-mate consulting his pedometer. Then we strolled to the library for
books, but the books lay unread in our laps when we were seated in our
steamer chairs; for how could our minds be fixed on the story when the
real life before us was more interesting? The Professor who was to
lecture during the trip stepped by with rapid tread, nodding as he
passed. The minister from Iowa who was to preach on the Sabbath stopped
to exchange greetings, a friend dropped into a vacant chair for a talk.
Then the music stands were set up and the band assembled around them and
for an hour we listened to selections from Wagner and Bach, varied with
the martial strains of Sousa or the melodies of Foster. The stewards
brought out a table, filled it with dishes, and served bouillon and
biscuit, while near by a kodak carrier was snapping a picture.
[Illustration: I. COMFORTABLY SEATED WITH A BOOK.]
[Illustration: II. THE BAND WAS PLAYING CARMEN.]
On the ship there were many places of interest. When in need of exercise
we visited the gymnasium on the upper deck, and when desirous of a
change in cooking we resorted to the grill room where the white clad
cook broiled chops in our sight over a bright fire. Impelled by
curiosity, we explored the vacant steerage, and with the chief engineer
descended the iron ladder to the depths below to investigate the
mysteries of the engine and fire rooms. Sometimes from the breezy
fore-deck we scanned the horizon for the ships that rarely appeared, and
sometimes sought a snug corner aft and watched the swift-winged gulls,
the quivering log line, the smoke clouds and their shadows, or the
widening streak of water disturbed by the revolving screw.
"How rapidly the week has passed," said a friend on the evening of the
twelfth of February. "Listen! One, two, three, four," as the ship's bell
rang out four strokes. "Four bells, that's six o'clock. We have half an
hour to dress for dinner."
When we entered the brilliantly illuminated dining saloon that evening a
bust of Lincoln was on the platform, and the room was decorated with the
American colors. Some one had remembered Lincoln's birthday, though many
of the passengers had forgotten the date. A picture of Lincoln with the
inscription, "In commemoration of President Abraham Lincoln's birthday,"
was engraved on the covers of the souvenir menus. The dinner was an
unusually good one, and the seven selections rendered by the orchestra
during the courses were appropriate for the day.
After dinner a man who had been personally acquainted with the martyred
President delivered an interesting memorial address. His final words had
just been said when an announcement was made which caused a thrill of
expectancy and sent us hurriedly to the deck: "Land is in sight!"