FROM THE BOSPORUS TO PALESTINE.
The program posted for Saturday, February twenty-eighth, announced that
the Moltke would leave Constantinople at nine o'clock in the morning for
a trip to the Black Sea, a distance of thirty-five miles. As we sailed
up the Bosporus, which narrows and widens, twists and turns, a
succession of picturesque scenes opened up before us. Scattered along
the shores, which for fifteen or twenty miles beyond Constantinople may
be considered suburbs of that city, white marble palaces of the rulers,
summer residences of the foreign ambassadors, and villas of the wealthy
Turks were seen interspersed with modern villages and ruined walls and
castles of past ages. Pretty frame summer houses, groves of dark green
cypress, gardens, boat-houses, and mosques added interest to the views.
"The sail up the Bosporus reminds me of one taken on the Hudson River,
but the scenery on the banks is Oriental instead of modern," remarked
one of the tourists.
"The old castles and ruined walls, and the legends connected with them,
suggest the Rhine," commented another.
At the water's edge on the Asiatic side, a few miles from the city, we
saw the beautiful white marble Beylerbey Palace, built in the year 1866
by Abdul-Aziz, the predecessor of the present Sultan, as a residence
for his harem. For their pleasure he surrounded the palace with groves
and gardens and established a menagerie in the grounds. About eight
miles from the city all eyes were turned toward a hill on the European
shore, where, above a cluster of buildings, the Stars and Stripes
floated in the breeze.
"That is the American College, which is doing good work in Turkey. It
was founded by Mr. A. Robert of New York, and is known as the 'Robert
College,'" said the guide.
[Illustration: THE TURKISH STUDENTS WAVED HATS AND FLAGS.]
As our steamer passed the college, the Turkish students from roof,
windows, and campus waved hats, handkerchiefs, and flags, and cheered
energetically, and the tourists waved to them in return. Just beyond the
college we passed an old town surrounded by ancient towers and time-worn
walls.
"This ancient stronghold," said the guide, "was known as the Citadel
of Europe. The fortress commanded the Strait and enabled the Sultans of
four centuries ago to levy toll on all passing vessels. At this place,
where the Bosporus is only about half a mile wide, the Persian ruler,
Darius, with his army crossed on a bridge of boats to invade Greece.
Here also the Crusaders crossed on their way to free the Holy Land from
the clutch of the Saracens."
[Illustration: LEVIED TOLL ON ALL PASSING VESSELS.]
The Moltke sailed into the Black Sea merely far enough to sweep around
in a wide circle and then, returning through the Bosporus, passed by
Constantinople and entered the Sea of Marmora.
"It seems like parting with a dear old friend," said a tourist as we
looked back on the fading domes and waved farewell to mosque and
minaret. "We have seen so much of the city in so short a time. Every
hour has been used to the best advantage in the Turkish capital."
Sunday, March first, was not to be a day of rest for the tourists; for
the Moltke had arrived at Smyrna at daylight and was to remain in the
harbor of that city only until dark.
The principal reason for a day's stay at Smyrna was to give an
opportunity for an excursion by train to the site of ancient Ephesus.
Many of the tourists took this trip to see the few scattered ruins that
mark the place where once stood the magnificent Temple of Diana. The
clergymen of the party desired to view the place where the Apostle Paul
had fought in the arena with wild beasts, and where Demetrius and his
fellow silversmiths had led the rioters against this Apostle whose
preaching interfered with the sales of silver shrines for Diana.
Other tourists, who did not take the excursion to Ephesus, explored the
narrow, badly-paved streets of Smyrna, and visited the bazaars. This
city would have seemed more interesting to us but for our previous visit
to the more picturesque Constantinople. In a crowded street we
encountered a flock of turkeys driven by a native. The turkeys appeared
to understand the driver's commands and were more easily guided by a
touch of his long switch than would be a flock of sheep passing through
a street in an American city.
Setting sail again, we passed late in the evening the island of Patmos,
where Saint John wrote the book of Revelations, and on Monday morning we
saw at a distance the island of Rhodes, noted for its historic defense
by the Knights of Malta. About nine o'clock Tuesday morning the Moltke
anchored in the Bay of St. George some distance from the shore. On the
surrounding hill slopes rose the city of Beyrout. Fresh-looking white
and yellow tinted buildings, red-tiled roofs, and a background of green
groves and orchards interspersed with white villas, gave the city an
appearance of newness. The whole scene, with the snow-capped Mountains
of Lebanon beyond, presented a beautiful picture to the eye.
"Beyrout has a population of 120,000, and is a prosperous, growing
city," said one of the managers of the tour. "It is a centre of
missionary work, and has American and German colleges. The old streets
are narrow, as are all old streets in Eastern towns; but they are clean.
The newer streets are of modern width. Educational advantages, foreign
enterprise, and European mercantile firms have infused new life into
the native population."
[Illustration: LADEN WITH HUGE TIMBERS.]
Madame Barakat, a native of Syria, and a well-known lecturer and Bible
reader, had very kindly given us letters of introduction to her Syrian
relatives in Beyrout. Among these were Mr. Sarkis, a highly respected
gentleman who had been honored by the Sultan with decorations for
services to his country, and who was also an author and editor of a
daily newspaper; and Mr. Sabra, his assistant, a tall, fine-looking man.
Another was the Rev. Mr. Zurub, pastor of the Congregational Church. The
three gentlemen were able to converse in English as fluently as in their
own tongue.
[Illustration: I. SCATTERED RUINS OF EPHESUS.]
[Illustration: II. WHERE ONCE STOOD THE TEMPLE OF DIANA.]
We were very cordially received by Mr. Sarkis, and, after meeting and
conversing with the other gentlemen, were shown through their printing
house, where Syrian type-setters were setting type to print Arabic
letters that looked like shorthand characters, and Jewish girls were
employed binding pamphlets. Our names were given to the printer, and in
a few minutes he presented us with visiting cards containing the names
in Arabic letters, thus:
[Illustration: Arabic script]
"Let us visit a candy factory while waiting for the carriages I have
ordered," said Mr. Sabra. "I know that the ladies are fond of sweetmeats
and I can guarantee these to be perfectly pure. We think that our
candies are delicious," he added as we entered the factory, and the
ladies agreed with him after eating some of the sweets.
The Syrians take pride in their city, in its factories, its hospitals,
its seminaries and colleges, its progressive business spirit, and the
beauty of its suburbs. We visited one of the silk factories where
hundreds of Syrian girls were engaged in unwinding the cocoons of
delicate gossamer that had been tediously spun and wound by the silk
worms among the leaves of the mulberry trees in the great orchards on
the hillsides.
"On the slope of yonder mountain we have a villa in which we spend the
hot summer months," said Mr. Sabra, pointing to the distant mountains as
we reached an elevation from which a broad view was obtained. "If there
had been time I would have taken you there to see one of the most
beautiful views in Syria."
[Illustration: CACTI IN BEYROUT MADE AN IMPENETRABLE FENCE.]
"The landscape is magnificent as seen from here," we replied. The
fruitful valley lay before us, beyond rose the verdant hills, and above
all towered the stately mountains of Lebanon. Villages, hamlets, villas,
exuberant gardens, orchards of spreading mulberry trees, graceful palms,
fig, lemon, and orange trees enhanced the beauty of the scene.
"Our colleges and schools," said Mr. Sarkis, "are equal to those of a
European city. Our people are becoming an educated people; almost all of
the younger generation can read and write. My daughters have been
educated in the American Seminary and can converse fluently in French,
German, and English, as well as in Arabic."
In a narrow thoroughfare we passed horses laden with long boards
strapped lengthwise on their backs, and camels laden with huge timbers
strapped to their backs and sides in the same manner.
"This is my home," said Mr. Sarkis, as the carriage stopped before a
large house surrounded by a small garden and a high wall. "I wish you to
meet my wife and sister and daughters."
Our hostesses were dressed in the English fashion, and our hosts, too,
wore modern English clothes, but the red fez on their heads designated
them as Turkish subjects. When we expressed an interest in their way of
living, the ladies took us from the reception room, which was furnished
in modern style, into their garden where orange and lemon trees and
semi-tropical plants were growing. They conducted us then through the
spacious marble-floored central hall, permitting us to look into nursery
and bedrooms fitted up partly in modern and partly in Oriental style,
and led us up a stone stairway to the level roof, which, with its
surrounding parapet, recalled the one described in "Ben Hur." Here fruit
was served by a Syrian maid clad in the native costume. On our return to
the lower floor, our hostesses conducted us to the divan salon or
Oriental smoking room. There, while we rested on low couches, the
Syrian maid passed around Turkish coffee in dainty cups, and then
brought a lighted narghileh from which, in turn, each one present took a
few whiffs of the mild Turkish tobacco.
[Illustration: VISITED THE OLDEST CITY IN THE WORLD.]
Mr. Sarkis told us that he had visited the United States at the time of
the Chicago Exposition. He took one hundred and forty Arabian horses to
the Exposition and had some interesting experiences while there. The
Rev. Mr. Zurub had spent sixteen months in America and spoke in the
highest terms of the kindness with which he had been received by the
American people.
In the evening a ball was given on the deck of the steamer, which had
been tastefully decorated for the occasion. Our friends, Mr. Sarkis,
Mrs. Sarkis and sister, the daughters, Fahima, aged about eighteen,
Neda, aged about fourteen, and a son, aged about sixteen, together with
Mr. Sabra, came on board to visit the ship. Mr. Sabra sang some Arabic
songs and Fahima joined him in a duet.
About fifty tourists left the Moltke at Beyrout in order to take the
side trip of three days to Damascus, the oldest city in history, and to
the ruins of the great Temple of Baal at Baalbek. A narrow-gauge railway
extends across the Lebanon Mountains from Beyrout to Damascus. The
distance is but ninety miles, but as the train has to rise to an
elevation of nearly five thousand feet and then descend to the valley
beyond, the average speed does not exceed ten or twelve miles an hour.
On Wednesday morning the steamer stopped at the little seaport of Haifa
just long enough to send ashore sixty passengers. Some of these wished
to take the side trip to Nazareth and the Sea of Galilee by carriage;
the others, to make the excursion through the interior of Palestine on
horseback, camping on the way, and rejoining the main party in
Jerusalem.
At noon on Wednesday the Moltke anchored in the unprotected harbor of
Jaffa over a mile from the shore, as it is not safe for a large steamer
to approach nearer. This was the landing place in the Mediterranean most
dreaded by the tourists; for we had heard of jagged rocks that projected
their black heads from the water, and of rough seas that on windy days
broke over the rocks making the passage from the vessel to the dock very
dangerous. The weather, however, was fair and the sea unusually smooth
that noon as the tourists one by one dropped from the platform at the
foot of the stairway into the row-boats as they rose on the swell of the
waves. The boats were large and built expressly for this dangerous
harbor. Each boat was managed by eight men, six rowers, a helmsman, and
a bowman, and each boat carried about twenty passengers. As the Syrians
labored hard at the oars they chanted continually a prayer to Allah for
a fair passage.
After safely landing at the stone steps of the dock, we proceeded
through the streets to the special train which was waiting to carry us
up to Jerusalem, not stopping to visit the traditional house of Simon,
the tanner, where the Apostle Peter had a vision on the roof.
"The oranges of Jaffa are noted as being the finest in the world. Don't
fail to buy some," said a gentleman from California. "We raise good
oranges in my state, but ours are not quite equal to those of Jaffa."
Arab men and boys surrounded the tourists at the station offering
carefully packed baskets, each containing two or three dozen fresh,
juicy oranges at what seemed an extremely low price. When the train
started every compartment contained one or more baskets of the delicious
fruit.
[Illustration: IT WAS A TYPICAL SYRIAN GROUP.]
The journey from Jaffa to Jerusalem was literally "up;" for the Sacred
City is nearly three thousand feet above the sea, and four hours was
required for the trip of fifty-four miles. After leaving Jaffa the train
passed through a succession of interesting panoramic views: gardens
where richness of soil was manifested by the rankness of the growth of
the plants and flowers; groups of palm trees with long, rough trunks,
and tufted heads high in the air; long rows of tall, narrow-leaved,
evergreen eucalyptus trees; orchards of orange trees where yellow fruit
clustered amid the glossy dark green leaves; orchards of almond trees
covered with a delicate pink bloom; and orchards of gray olive trees
with a carpet of grass underneath, as beautiful as a park; bare fig
trees whose time for leaf and bloom had not yet come; and fences of huge
leaved prickly cactus plants protecting garden plots.
"What queer looking plows they have," said a companion, as we noticed
near the train a plowman who had stopped his camel, and thrown his plow,
which looked like a crooked root with a point, out of the furrow, while
he gazed at the passing train. "The first gardener must have obtained a
plow of the same kind from the original forest."
In stretches of sod the rich brown earth was being turned up by farmers
with teams of camels, one great camel to each little wooden plow, or
with teams composed of an ox and an ass hitched together. In one field
twelve camel teams were plowing the sod. We use the word field, but
there were no fences except the cactus hedges around small plots. The
farm boundaries from ancient times have been marked by corner stones to
which Moses referred when he gave the law: "Cursed be he that removeth
his neighbor's landmark." We were in the midst of historic places
mentioned in the Bible. To the north lay the fertile level fields of the
Plain of Sharon. Fields of young wheat were beautified by the roses of
Sharon,--red poppies with black centres and short stems,--which dotted
the carpet of green with flecks of red. At Lydda, where Peter healed the
man who had the palsy, Arab urchins begged the passengers to buy little
bunches of the red poppies and other wild flowers that they offered for
sale. To the south stretched the Plain of Philistia, the scene of
Samson's adventures, and the fields through which he sent the three
hundred foxes with firebrands tied to their tails. In that direction
also lay battle fields where Philistines and Israelites struggled for
supremacy.
[Illustration: A CARAVAN WITH BALES OF RUGS HAD JUST ARRIVED.]
The towns and villages on the route were small and mean. The better
buildings were constructed of stone with flat stone roofs, but many were
made of mud with mud roofs on which a crop of grass was growing. After
the first hour's ride, fertile rolling plains succeeded the level sandy
loam. When about thirty miles from Jaffa, after a two hours' ride, the
hill country of Judea was entered. From that point the train traveled
slowly and laboriously up the hills and mountains by steep gradients.
Overhead in the limestone cliffs were many caves, one of which was
pointed out as Samson's Grotto. Whenever there was any soil among the
rocks and stones, the grass grew luxuriantly, making good pasture for
the herds of nimble-footed black goats that picked their way along the
steep and rocky mountain side. The red rose of Sharon grew in profusion
and took possession of the uncultivated ground around the trees and
between the rocks. At many places the abundance of these poppies and the
beauty of their groupings gave to the land the appearance of a park
planned and laid out by a landscape gardener. Nearer the summit the
hills were bleak and barren. Here was the village of Bittir, a group of
little stone houses clinging to the mountain side, where terraces
supported by stone walls held up small gardens on which cauliflower and
other vegetables were growing.
[Illustration: THEY CHANTED A PRAYER TO ALLAH.]
"For the past hour," said a lady who had been intently gazing out of the
window of the car, "yes, for a longer time, I have been looking forward
expecting to see a city burst forth impressively into sight, a city upon
a mountain top, 'beautiful for situation.' Now the conductor tells us
that we are nearing our destination, and yet cliffs and hills are all
that we can see. Where is Jerusalem? 'A city set upon a hill cannot be
hid.'"
"You have not read your Bible closely," replied a minister in our
compartment. "David said, 'The mountains are round about Jerusalem,' As
it was then so we shall find it now, on hills surrounded by other hills.
Do not expect to see the city of Solomon's time which the Queen of Sheba
came to visit. Its glory departed eighteen centuries ago. I fear that
your imagination has led you to expect more than the modern Turkish town
which we shall find, and you may feel like lamenting with Jeremiah, 'Is
this the city that men call the perfection of beauty, the joy of the
whole earth?'"
It was not until we were approaching the railway station, which is
situated in the suburbs about a mile from the city, that we obtained a
view of the yellow walls and buildings of the Holy City, and the sight
then was not impressive, as we had expected. Then at the station, amid
the noisy cries of many Arab drivers, we obtained seats in carriages,
and were driven at breakneck speed over a good road down into the valley
of Hinnom and up a long hill to the Jaffa gate.
The party had been divided by the managers into sections for the various
hotels, and each tourist had been given a card with the name of his
hotel. Those who were to go to hotels outside the walls of the city
proceeded directly to their destination in carriages. Those who were to
stay within the walls descended from the conveyances in front of the
Grand Hotel just within the Jaffa gate, and went the rest of the way on
foot through narrow streets that carriages could not enter. The writer
was assigned to the Casa Nova, or Hospitium Franciscanum, a monastery or
hospital built expressly for the accommodation of pilgrims to the Holy
City, and controlled and managed by Franciscan monks.