disregard of which is usually followed by hostilities. When one
sovereign nation calls on another sovereign nation to apologize, the
first nation is expected to resort to arms if the apology is not
forthcoming. Though not representing a sovereign nation, the mission
of the _New York_ in the harbor of Tangier was clearly perceptible as
an expounder of a precedent.
The grand vizier of the Sultan of Morocco had made himself obnoxious
to America by refusing an interview with Mr. Gummere, United States
consul at the port of Tangier. For this discourtesy and other claims
of the United States long pending against the government of Morocco,
it was found necessary to despatch a war-ship to put pressure on the
Moors.
The history of the conflicts between the Moors and the United States
had covered a period of more than one hundred years, dating back to
the naval wars of the infant nation with the Mediterranean pirates.
Discriminations against Americans and interference by officials of the
Sultan with Americans doing business in Morocco were largely due to
the ignorance of the Moors as to the power of the United States.
Claim after claim was ignored by the Sultan. In 1897, in order to
bring this sublime potentate to a realizing sense of the importance of
recognizing the demands of the United States, the United States
cruisers _Raleigh_ and _San Francisco_, in command of Rear Admiral
Selfridge, were ordered from Smyrna to Tangier for the purpose of
lending support to Consul-General Burke. This act had its effect, as
promises were given that in the future discriminations would be
eradicated.
In June, 1900, however, the strife was renewed when Marcus Ezegui, who
was a naturalized American citizen and manager of the Fez branch of
the French firm of Braunschweig and Co., while riding horseback
through a narrow street in Fez, jolted against the mule of a Moroccan
religious fanatic; a dispute ensued, the crowd siding with the Moor.
In self-defence Ezegui drew his revolver and fired, wounding a native.
This was the signal for a general attack on the American; he received
a dozen knife wounds, and was burned at a stake before life had become
extinct.
For this atrocious crime the United States asked an indemnity of $5000
and the punishment of the offenders; the request received little
adherence by the Moorish government; then the State Department
demanded $5000 for the failure of Morocco to punish the offenders.
After much diplomatic correspondence between Washington and Fez, the
Moroccan capital, the United States battleship _Kentucky_ was ordered
across the Atlantic to procure the necessary demands. In this she was
partially successful, though failing to negotiate the demands in their
entirety. Time dragged on and promises remained unfulfilled. The
capital was moved time and again between the cities of Tangier and Fez
purposely to evade negotiations with the United States. It remained
for the _New York_ to consummate a successful issue, in the
undertaking of which she was ably commanded by Rear Admiral Frederick
Rodgers, whose iron-willed ancestors had bequeathed him a priceless
heritage,――the courage of his convictions combined with executive
diplomacy.
On the reception of Consul-General Gummere by the admiral, it became
known adventitiously that the grand vizier of his Sultanic Majesty, in
company with the Sultan, had departed for the city of Fez. This they
called moving the capital. With the afore, aft, and waist eight-inch
“long toms” trained idly on the city and forts, Admiral Rodgers, with
flag-officers and escort and accompanied by Consul Gummere, departed
on a small British yacht for the city of Fez, with the determination
to promulgate his mission to his excellency’s government,――namely, its
choice of a satisfactory adjustment of the indemnity or the
unconditional alternate: a bombardment. It is needless to say that
this was the final negotiation, terminating with a successful and
honorable issue.
A member of the ship’s crew having crossed the “great divide,”
permission for the obsequies and burial in Tangier was granted. In a
casket draped with the American colors, the body was conveyed by
launch to the beach, where pall-bearers, members of the departed
sailor’s division, took charge of the conveyance to the cemetery. With
muffled drums the band led off, playing a solemn funeral dirge,
followed by the procession, which included an escort of honor and
firing squad of marines.
A circuitous route of three miles through narrow streets, with
buildings crumbling to decay and indicative of architecture of an
early period, led us to the cemetery on a shady plateau near the
outskirts of the city. Here the cortege halted, and the last rites
were solemnized by Chaplain Chidwick of the _New York_, well known as
the late chaplain of the ill-fated battleship _Maine_. Three volleys
were fired over the sailor’s grave, and the services closed
impressively with the sound of “taps,” “lights out.”
As the band struck up “In the good old summer-time,” ranks were
broken, and the men roamed at will through the narrow, spicy-scented
streets, thronged with semi-barbarians, rough-riding vassals of the
Sultan costumed in turbans, sandals, and flowing robes, whose contempt
for all foreigners cannot brook restraint. It was a pleasant relief to
escape the fumes of this incensed city, to inhale the fresh ozone
aboard the man-of-war.
On departing from Morocco, our cruise led to ports along the coast of
the great Mediterranean Sea.
III.
Thrilling Adventure with Moors in the “Kasbah” of Algiers
Moonlight on the Mediterranean――Meeting with O’Mally, a Pedestrian
of the Globe――“Birds of a Feather” in the Moulin Rouge――A Midnight
Hold-up by Moors; O’Mally with Gendarmes and French Soldiers to
the Rescue――A Pitched Battle in which Blood Flows Freely――French
Soldiers Drink the Health of the United States――Malta and Singers
of the “Yama Yama.”
A calm moonlight night on the waters of the Mediterranean Sea is the
most awe-inspiring feeling that can be manifested in the heart of a
man-of-war’s-man. The dark blue billows, resembling a carpet of
velvet, surging in mountainous swells, seem to reflect the glitter of
every star in the celestial firmament, while moonbeams dance in
shadowy vistas o’er the surface of the deep. It was on such a night
that our cruiser plowed her course from Palermo, Sicily, and entered
the land-locked harbor of the quaint old capital of Algeria.
I can vividly remember the embodiment of contentment with which I was
possessed as I leaned on the taffrail of the ship and beheld the
illuminated city of Algiers, rising from the water’s edge diagonally
to an immense altitude.
Life-buoys dotted the harbor, and a small light-house played a
search-light to our anchorage. After the anchors had been cast, booms
spread, the gig, barge, and steam-launches lowered, the deep
stentorian voice of the boatswain’s mate could be heard through the
ship, piping silence about the deck; taps had been sounded, and all
except those on duty were supposed to be swinging in their hammocks.
With the loud report of the morning gun could be heard “Jimmy-legs,”
the master at arms, as he made his way through the berth-decks,
singing his daily ditty, “Rise, shine, and lash up.” This, repeated
rapidly for a period of five minutes, was likened unto a band of
colored brethren at a Georgia camp-meeting hilariously singing, “Rise,
shine, and give God the glory, glory,” et cetera. In fifteen minutes
every hammock had to be lashed according to navy regulations and
stored away in the hammock nettings.
After breakfast in port, every man must appear military. Uniforms must
be pressed, buttons and shoes polished, and accoutrements ready for
inspection, for at eight bells the colors are hoisted, the National
air is played by the band, and visits of courtesy commence between the
various fleets and shore officers.
The ship’s band renders music three times daily in port, and visiting
parties are conducted through the ship. A large number of bum-boats,
with their venders of fruit and curios, always surround the ship;
these people are an interesting class and present a picturesque scene,
with their quaint costumes, noisy chatter, and cargo of varieties.
As in all other ports, the men entitled to “liberty” (a word used to
designate shore leave) make their preparation early, then await the
noon hour, when the boatswain’s mate pipes his whistle, and cries out:
“Lay aft all the liberty party.” All going ashore fall in, in double
rank on the quarter-deck, where they answer their names and pass down
the gangway and into boats, in which they are conveyed ashore, where
the boys cut loose from discipline and nothing is too good for “Jack.”
On our first day in the harbor of Algiers I was on duty, and among
other announcements I had to make to the admiral was the announcement
of one Mr. O’Mally, a pedestrian from San Francisco, California, who
desired an interview with the admiral of the flag-ship _New York_.
Mr. O’Mally was walking around the world for a wager; he had covered
the distance from San Francisco to New York, had walked through
Europe, and was at this time making his way through Africa. He had
come on board the American ship to have Admiral Rodgers sign his
credentials showing he had been at this point in Africa on this
particular date. At the close of the interview the admiral ordered me
to show our distinguished perambulator through the ship. I found him
to be a very congenial fellow, and was very much interested with his
stories of his travels by foot.
Accompanied by his French interpreter, we started through the vessel,
I explaining everything of interest to their apparent satisfaction,
after which we returned to the quarter-deck, and, after exchanging
cards, Mr. O’Mally and his guide departed for the city, stating that
he would probably meet me in Algiers the following day, where I would
be on shore leave.
The next day, accompanied by five other marines, with that almost
uncontrollable desire for pleasure and excitement known only by the
men who undergo the rigid discipline of the navy, I boarded a sampan
and was sculled ashore, where numerous guides, always in evidence in
foreign ports, offered to conduct us through the labyrinths of gayety.
Waving aside these pests, we ascended the stone steps leading to the
plaza overlooking the bay and a grand boulevard. This plaza was
thronged with pedestrians and equipages of the civic and military,
French and Moorish officers, gendarmes, tourists, fakirs,
fortune-tellers, Bedouins, and beggars, commingled, forming a most
cosmopolitan scene. Seeking an exchange, we converted some money into
centimes, sous, francs, and napoleons, and, after purchasing some
relics from the bazaars, engaged landaus and proceeded to see the
sights of this quaint African city.
Arabs, Moors, Spaniards, Jews, French, Germans, Maltese, and
Italians――in fact, every nationality extant――seem to be represented
here.
The City of Algiers was built about 935 A.D., was poorly governed by a
long succession of Turkish deys, and fell under the yoke of French
rule in 1830, obliterating the despotism which had long existed.
The Boulevards, beautifully adorned with arcades and lined on either
side with orange and lime trees, are the scenes of magnificent
equipages drawn by blooded Arabian horses.
The heat, though at times intense, is mitigated by a delightful cool
sea-breeze.
The principal places of interest are the French bazaars, the Catholic
cathedral, the hot baths of Hammam Phira, the marketplace, casino,
public bath, coffee-houses, theatres, bank, quarters of the soldiers
of the foreign legion, the Moulin Rouge, identical with the famous
“Red Mill” of Paris, where “birds of a feather flock together,” and
where _L’amour et la fumee ne peuvent se cacher_.
Discharging our landaus, we journeyed through the Rue Bab Azoun,
passing here and there groups of French and Moorish soldiers, and
occasionally brushing against women of the true faith, whose veils
hide many a beautiful face.
In the cabarets or cafés which line the plazas, French soldiers can
frequently be heard singing the national air of France, the
“Marseillaise.” The cosmopolites who comprise the foreign legion are
an interesting body of soldiers, representing all nations, but serving
under the dominion of the French government. Entering a cabaret where
a game of roulette was in progress, we marines took a chance on the
roll of the ivory ball, in which some of the party increased their
wealth considerably. About every fourth turn of the ball, wine was
dispensed. I had been very lucky in my play, having several times
picked the number, column, and color at the same time, to the great
disgust of the croupier, whose radiant smile beams only when the wheel
wins.
As conversation had become boisterous and my luck had taken a sudden
turn, I cashed in, and, after thanking the croupier for his kind
donations, whose smile portrayed a feeling of derision, I made my
exit.
After depositing for safe keeping, in one of the leading hotels,
numerous curios and several hundred dollars in French currency, I
roved at random through the city without any special point of
direction.
Having heard a great deal about the interesting sights to be seen in
the “Kasbah,” the Moorish quarter, which is the ancient fortress of
the deys and commands a view of the city from a height of five hundred
feet above sea level, I ventured to this weird section of the city.
Climbing the long winding stairway, or steps of stone, I soon found
myself encompassed by a collection of wild-looking Moors in flowing
robes, turbans, and sandals, the women similarly dressed, whose veiled
faces showed only their eyes, and the artistic tattooing in the centre
of their eyebrows, pranced through dimly lighted lanes, like Rip Van
Winkle’s hobgoblins of the Catskills.
Being unable to hold conversation with these barbarians, I contented
myself with being a silent spectator of their grotesque actions.
After making the rounds of various places of interest, where it was
distinctly obvious that I was an unwelcome visitor, I decided to
return to the better-lighted and more civilized plazas of the city. As
I tried to figure out my bearings on an imaginary compass, I became
bewildered, and in consequence followed any street which had an
incline.
From the main street of the “Kasbah” are numerous short streets or
lanes, which seem to have no connection with other streets,
terminating at the entrance to a building. I had tried various ways to
reach the steps I had climbed, without success, and here realized the
importance of having a guide or an interpreter. Finally I sighted the
rays of a search-light, and later a light on the mainmast of a
merchant marine entering the bay. Following in the direction of this
light, I reached a badly lighted portion of this section of the city
overlooking a precipice, when, without a semblance of warning, my arms
and feet were pinioned, I was gagged with a roll of hemp, which was
placed under my chin and drawn taut around my neck. I made a desperate
struggle, but was helpless without the use of my arms, and was
compelled to yield when a blood-thirsty brigand placed the point of a
dirk against the spring of my affections,――namely, the region of my
solar plexus; and it is needless to say that “to slow music” I was
relieved of my personal possessions, including my watch, chain,
finger-ring, keys, money, letters, and trinkets, by six Moorish
brigands, who kindly refrained from casting me over the precipice. As
they broke away, I was left to ponder in amazement.
It was absolutely futile for me to think of an attempt at anything
except that of securing myself and reaching the heart of the city. At
this juncture, and to my great surprise, I was delighted to see,
coming out of one of the narrow streets, my friend Mr. O’Mally the
pedestrian and his interpreter. Recognizing him instantly, I informed
him as to what had happened, which brought a cry from his interpreter
for the gendarmes and soldiers. In a few moments the soldiers and
police had arrived, and I led them in the direction the bandits had
taken, but at night it is impossible to distinguish one Moor from
another, for like Chinese they all look alike at night; therefore, the
soldiers contented themselves in beating them indiscriminately, as the
Moor is the French soldier’s bitterest enemy.
These soldiers, unlike the American soldier, carry their side arms
when off duty, and it was with great difficulty that the gendarmes
prevented some of the Moors from being killed. At one stage of the
game we had a battle royal, and there are a number of Moors in the
“Kasbah” who carry scars as evidence of this night’s fracas.
On our return to the plaza, I discovered that besides leaving the
buttons on my blouse the robbers had overlooked two gold napoleons
which I carried in the watch-pocket of my trousers, and, as the French
soldiers were not averse to accepting a potion of wine for their
services, it was not long before we were drinking to the health of the
United States and the French Republic.
Mr. O’Mally and his guide left the party in the “wee sma” hours of the
morning, and, as three years intervened before my return to America, I
lost all trace of this interesting gentleman.
Next day while returning to my ship, I received the intelligence that
the other marines who had accompanied me ashore had fallen into the
hands of the gendarmes for destroying the roulette-wheel and creating
a general “rough house,” due, they claimed, to crooked work on the
part of the croupier. Later in the day on paying a small fine they
were released.
Our stay in Algiers covered a period of ten days, which included
Easter Sunday. This was a gala day on the plazas and along the
Boulevard; the services in the French cathedral were performed with
great pomp and ceremony; flowers were banked in profusion, while the
singing of the choir was decidedly of a rare quality.
Before leaving this memorable city I had the pleasure of attending a
French masquerade ball in the Rue de Rome, where Parisian dancing
novelties were introduced and where fantastic costumes had no limit.
The last day in Algiers was given to a reception, aboard the ship, to
the foreign legations. As usual on these occasions, the ship was gayly
decorated with flags of all nations. Easter lilies, which had been
presented to the admiral by Algerians, fairly covered the
quarter-deck. Dancing continued throughout the evening, the guests
departing at midnight to the strains of the “Marseillaise.” A few
hours later anchors were weighed, and, under a beautiful pale
moonlight, our cruiser steamed out of the harbor, carrying with it
everlasting memories of the picturesque City of Algiers.
After a cruise of four days the Island of Gozo was sighted, and ere
long we had entered and anchored in Valetta, the capital of Malta. A
large British fleet lay anchored here, also a yacht having on board
his royal personage “The King of Siam,” who was making a cruise of the
Mediterranean Sea. “The Duke and Duchess of York,” on board the
_Ophir_ bound for Australia, for the opening of Parliament, was also
sighted in the Mediterranean Sea.
The Island of Malta is of Arabic origin, but at present an English
possession. It is frequently mentioned in Biblical history, having
been conquered by the Romans two hundred and fifty years before the
birth of Christ.
Near the City of Valetta a spot is pointed out as having been the
place where Paul the Apostle’s ship was wrecked.
I heard Captain McKenzie of the _New York_ remark to the admiral that
Malta is the only place where a Jew cannot prosper, as a Maltese will
beat a Jew.
The principal sights of Malta are the Strada san Giovanni in Valetta,
a wide stone stairway lined on either side with buildings of ancient
architecture, the ruins of a Roman villa and the Beggar’s Stairs. The
Maltese are a musically inclined people, and at night it was very
inspiring to hear the young people, as they coursed around the ship in
“gondolas,” singing selections from the famous “La Traviata” to the
accompaniment of mandolins and guitars, invariably offering as an
encore, the ever beautiful, Venetian “Yama Yama,” famous for ages
along the shores of the Mediterranean Sea.
It was with regret that Alexandria, our next port, was to end our
cruise on this magnificent body of water.
IV.
From the Pyramids of Egypt to Singapore
The Pyramids of Gizeh――The Sphinx――A Famous Relic of the Honeymoon
of Cleopatra and Mark Antony――Cairo――Camel Caravansary en route
from Syria to Cairo――Suez Canal――Red Sea――Mt. Sinai――Aden――A
Monsoon in the Indian Ocean――Singalese of Ceylon――Singapore.
On the arrival of our ship at Port Said, Egypt, the haven of
beach-combers and the most immoral city on the face of the earth,
preparations were at once made for coaling ship. Lighters loaded with
coal were towed alongside, and natives of the Nubian Desert relieved
the crew of this detestable task. Men were granted liberty with the
privilege of visiting Jerusalem or Cairo. It being necessary to travel
by boat a long distance to Jaffa in order to get a train for the Holy
Land, I decided to spend the time in seeing the sights of Cairo, the
Pyramids, Sphinx, and the Nile.
Securing transportation, I boarded a train for the Egyptian capital;
not a very pleasant trip, however, as the heat was intense, and thick
gusts of dust were continually blown from the Sahara and Nubian
Deserts.
The first novel sight that met my gaze was a camel caravansary with a
band of Arabs on their way from Cairo to Syria. Upon entering the
city, the Arabic architecture was the first to attract my attention,
the mosques and minarets particularly appearing prominent. The streets
were thronged with tourists of all nations; camels wending their way
and donkeys for hire or sale at every corner gave the city the aspect
of the “Far East.”
I visited the Sacred Gardens of the “Howling Dervishes,” the tombs of
the Caliphs, an ostrich-breeding house, “Wells of Moses,” the mosque
of the Sultan Hassan, and several museums containing relics of
priceless value dating back to dynasties before the birth of Christ.
In Shephard’s Hotel, Napoleon’s headquarters during his campaign in
Egypt, I saw, guarded with jealous care, the magnificent catamaran or
gondola in which the Egyptian Queen Cleopatra cruised the Nile during
her ostentatious honeymoon with Mark Antony.
After visiting the citadel and places of less interest, I journeyed to
the streets where the music of the tomtoms was attracting attention.
The shades of night having fallen and my appetite being keen, I
sauntered into an Arabian café for dinner, where a string of Egyptian
dancers amused the guests with the muscle-dance, far surpassing
“Little Egypt” or “The Girl in Blue.” These dancers are serious in
their art, and to snicker at them is to manifest ridicule and is
considered an unpardonable breach of manners.
After my “Seely dinner,” every course of which was served quite warm,
I repaired to my hotel and retired for the night.
The following day I engaged a hack and journeyed across the grand
bridge of the Nile to the Pyramids and Sphinx. These landmarks of
prehistoric ages, seventy in number and considered one of the seven
wonders of the world, can be seen from a great distance looming up in
the desert.
The Pyramids of Gizeh, on the west bank of the Nile, are the largest
of the group. The first or Great Pyramid covers thirteen acres at the
base, and is nearly five hundred feet high; it is honeycombed, and
contains the remains of the ancient rulers of Egypt. One hundred
thousand men were employed thirty years in its construction.
Following our guide through the cavernous catacombs, we finally
reached the sarcophagus of Cheops, who ruled Egypt twenty-five
dynasties before the Christian era. After a random tramp of more than
an hour through this dreary dark abode, we returned to the light of
day, and, climbing the Pyramid, reached a point from where Napoleon
reviewed his troops after his campaign against the Mamelukes.