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JAMES K. MOFFITT

PAULINE F ORE MOFFITT
LIBRARY

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
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GLIMPSES OF SUNNY LANDS

 

 

 

 

 

 

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GLIMPSES

0F

SUNNY LANDS

BY

ROBERT W. W. CRYAN, M.A.

WITH ILLUSTRA TIOZVS

LONDON
KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., LTD.
1896

ENVIRON mss. msmwa

GIFT

 

RARE
G953
ngl

(to
HER

WHOM I FIRST MET IN ONE OF THOSE “SUNNY
LANDS,” AND WHOSE GENTLE PRESENCE

HAS MADE LIFE SUNSHINE SINCE
I D E D I C A T E

TH ES E PAGES

 

INTRODUCTION

EVEN in these travelled days there are un-
fortunately many for Whom Horace’s dictum
—N07z (mi/2's lzomz’m’ eorztz'ngz't adire C orz'ntéum
——must hold good. To such I venture to offer
these few leaves of travel, with a hope that
they may afford a hint even of the pleasure
the writer experienced in viewing favoured
climes.

The countries treated follow no special
order—now we are in Africa or Europe,
now in America—the only woofs connecting
these descriptive threads being the golden
sunbeams.

My thanks are tendered to Messrs Chambers
and to the Editors of the Westminster Review
for kind permission to reprint here some of the
sketches which previously appeared in their
Magazines.

 

CONTENTS

PAGE

BISKRA, THE DESERT QUEEN . . . I
THREE EXCURSIONS ROUND ALGIERS . . 18
CAPRI . . . . . . 34
IN OLD SEVILLA . . . . . 46
ATHENS, “THE VIOLET-CROWNED” . . 57
IN INNER GREECE . . . . . 72
TAHOE, THE GEM OF CALIFORNIAN LAKES . 96

THE YOSEMITE—CALIFORNIA’S WONDER . . 107

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

THE PRETORIUM, LAMBESSA . . . From‘z'spzkce
AN OULED-NA'I'L . . . . . Tofacepage 12
A KABYLE FAMILY . . ,, 3o
CAPRI . . . . . . _. ,, '40
THE CATHEDRAL, SEVILLE ,, 50
A GREEK TYPE . . . . ,, 70
THE TEMPLE 0F APOLLO AT DELPHI . ,, 90
AN ARACHOVA MAIDEN . . ,, 92
LAKE TAHOE . . . . ,, 100
THE YOSEMITE FALL . . . . ,, IIO
OLD “MAHALA” . . . ,, 112

CATHEDRAL SPIRES . . . . ,, 1 18

 

BISKRA, THE DESERT QUEEN

FAR from the blue Mediterranean, where Algeria
merges into the Great Sahara, lies that beautiful
oasis known as Biskra, “The Desert Queen.”
It is a region of charm and novelty, a region
of camels and Arabs, of waving palms and
magical mirages, and sunsets which seem to
give a glimpse of heaven’s inner splendours.
One fine March morning we started from
Algiers, and soon left the “White City ” with
its lovely bay and the great ridge of the Atlas
Mountains behind. We passed by vineyards,
and diversified, if not very sublime, scenery,
till we reached the well—known Gorge of
Palestro, with its wild rocks and foaming
torrent—a fit entrance to the still wilder and
more savage Kabylia whose inhabitants proved
such fierce enemies to France. The country

A I

2 Glz'mfses of Sunny Lama’s

now becomes entirely mountainous, is evidently
of volcanic origin, and has been compared with
the finest scenery of Switzerland. The rail-
way is a marvel of engineering; deep cuttings,
tunnels, and iron bridges succeed each other
rapidly. At intervals a cluster of Kabyle
huts dots the landscape; constructed of rough
stones, without mortar or cement, these have
neither windows nor chimneys, and the smoke
escapes as it can through the doors. The
easy-going Kabyles push democracy to ex-
treme limits, living on familiar and equal terms
with their cattle and their swine—all occupy—
ing the common dwelling. A fine hardy race,
of great bravery and many noble traits, they
yet resemble the Arabs in their want of
honesty. A story is told of a chief of theirs,
Mokrani, which makes us think the days of
chivalry not yet gone. When, worsted in the
Franco-German War in 1871, the French had
to withdraw their troops from Algeria, and
thus a grand opening was left for insurrection,
Mokrani would not rebel as he had pledged

 

31
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Bz'sém, Me Desert Queen 3

his word to the Algerian governor that there
would be no rising against the French authority
till the war was over. Even when a peace
had been made, and he was thus released
from his promise, he gave forty—eight hours’
notice to the French of his intention to com—
mence hostilities against them. Verily, he was
a hero, and he died a hero’s death in the thick
of battle. At Se’tif we broke the journey, and
found at the H6tel de France sufficiently com-
fortable quarters. The little town need not
long detain us. It is surrounded by a wall,
has a pretty mosque, and at the market-place
can be seen some very interesting Kabyle
and Arab types. It is the chief wool-mart of
the district. The second day’s trip to Biskra
prepares us for the Sahara. A long plain
extends for hours with just enough vegetation
to prevent its being the desert, and yet with
sufficiently little to make it a picture of aridity
and desolation, which is heightened by the
barren Aurés Mountains. Batna is an im-

portant military station, and many travellers

4 Glimpses of 5mm)! Lama’s

spend the night there in order to visit next
day the Roman ruins of Timgad and Lam-
bessa. At the latter place is the fine Prae-
torium and a triumphal arch, besides fallen
columns, parts of aqueducts, and old gates.
The celebrated Third Legion was established
there in order to curb the Numidians and to
prevent their desolating Northern Africa. Tim-
gad has also a triumphal arch, as well as a
fine theatre and a forum. The visit to the
ruins is made in carriage, occupies a Whole
day, and barely repays the trouble. After
leaving Batna the weather, which had been
gloomy, brightened up, and we had a true
African sun. A good road ran beside the
railway line, and a stream also accompanied
us most of this day’s journey. The country ,
was much more interesting at Ain Touta;
there were numerous trees, the mountains
were more diversified, and we saw a great
number of camels. There was one piece of
superb scenery when we passed through the
“mountain-gate” of the desert and the oasis

Biskra, z‘lze Deserz Queen 5

of El Kantara burst upon us with its myriad
palms and the beautiful crimson of its pome—
granate blossoms stood out against the milk-
white almonds. The tiny stream, our con-
stant friend, widened out to quite a river,
spanned by a noble old Roman bridge which
gives the district its name—El Kantara signi—
fying bridge.

More barren country succeeded, and the
tints of evening had added their magic to
the desert landscape when we got our first
View of Biskra—a vast sea of palms, with
the lamps, which were already lighted, gleam-
ing here and there like fire-flies amid the
sombre foliage. The Biskra oasis, with its
hundred and fifty thousand trees, is only about
two miles long, and extends in half a dozen
little villages by the Oued stream. The
Arabs style it variously the “Desert Queen,”
the “Queen of the Cases,” and the “Pearl
of the Desert.” Seen, after two days’ journey
through barren, treeless wastes, with its wav-

ing palms and brilliant verdure, it is a sight

6 G/z'mpses of Sunny Lands

difficult to rival. Biskra has several fine
buildings, of which the Town Hall, built in
the Oriental style, with gleaming cupola
and a forest of dainty pillars, is the gem.
It cost six thousand pounds, and was con-
sidered cheap, though labour is had for a
song.

The Oued Biskra flows through the oasis,
and causes much of its prosperity. The chief
industry is date-raising, and nearly all the
inhabitants own a little plot of ground de-
voted to this purpose, and generally their
only source of revenue. Biskra owes much
to the Compagnie de l’Oued e1 Rirh, who had
artesian wells bored and laid out vast date
plantations. They also erected a fine Casino,
and constructed a tramway to the celebrated
Hamman Salahine, about six miles distant—
springs well known to the Romans, whence
Biskra was called Ad Piscinam. In con-
sideration of all these benefits, the company
is granted various privileges. It is to enjoy
for ninety-nine years the profits arising from

 

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Bz'sém, f/ze Desert Queen 7

the springs and from three hundred acres of
land, besides a large town plot.

Biskra is practically the “key to the Sahara,”
and, ever since the French entered in 1844,
has been an important military station. The
lover of Orientalism will find it there in a
much purer form than in semi—Europeanized
Algiers, and can also enjoy an almost perfect
climate. The district, however, is not rainless,
as is often supposed; on the contrary, in winter
there is a fair share of rain, though not so
much as in Algiers, where this is the weak
point in the climate. Like Algiers it is
beautifully mild, there is no snow, and for
the majority of the winter there is brilliant
sunshine and a very even temperature. In
the summer, however, it is almost uninhabit-
able. N 0 one dreams of staying there, unless
military or other duty compels them. The
heat is intense, the water noxious, and snakes
and scorpions abound, whose bite often proves
deadly in an hour. The country at this period
is subject to plagues of grasshoppers—the

8 Glimpses of Sunny Lama’s

ruination of all verdure and produce. A very
annoying malady, called “clou de Biskra”—
Biskra pimple—prevails, which is said to resist
most treatment except change of air.

The population of the oasis amounts to
about ten thousand people, of whom not more
than one-fifth are Europeans. The rest are
Arabs, the Berber descendants of the Kabyles,
the Coulouglis, descendants of the Turks,
Soudanese'negroes, besides Rouares and Moza-
bites, so called from the desert districts whence
they come. The Mozabites are a kind of
Oriental Jews; their whole aim is to acquire
wealth and commercial importance; they are
chiefly tobacco merchants and grocers, and,
like the Jews, are cordially disliked. They
are easily recognised by the rug of various
colours they wear over the shoulders. The
Touaregs, who inhabit chiefly the Central
Sahara, wear their haiks up to their eyes,
hence their name, which means “veiled.”

The morning after our arrival we sauntered
out to see the sights, and were soon accosted

 

Bz’sém, the Desert Queen 9

by a bright—looking negro boy, who spoke
French very well, and proffered his services
as guide. A few moments found us at the
one—storied collection of mud huts known as
the “negro village,” occupied by a Soudanese
tribe who were slaves until liberated by the
French. They wore burnouses and turbans like
the Arabs, and seemed to follow the Arabic
cuisine, as we noticed several preparing the
kouskous in their huts. This dish consists of
semolina as basis, and the well—to-do add meat
and vegetables. The negresses squatted before
their doors, many of them wearing gold neck-
laces, sequins, and rich silver ornaments. Their
chief occupation seemed to be nursing their
bright-eyed babes; several wore leather charms
around their necks, but as they were ready to
sell them for a few sous, it is to be supposed
they had small faith in their efficacy.
Conversing with our little negro guide,
we found that his education had not been
neglected; besides being able to write Arabic
and speak French, he was well versed in

IO Glimpses of Sunny Lands

arithmetic and geography. We next went to
the beautiful gardens of the Chateau Landon.
Thousands of date palms and caroub trees
grow by the rippling streams let through the
property for irrigating purposes. Scattered
through the grounds are magnificently furnished
pavilions and kiosks. Conte Landon is a
French gentleman who has devoted his life
to agriculture, and certainly with success, as
anyone fortunate enough to see these gardens
will acknowledge. In the afternoon we made
the excursion to the baths of Hammam Sala-
hine. A tiny tram runs there several times
a day, and passes through the most deserted
region imaginable; not a tree nor a shrub
relieves the landscape, but a barren waste
stretches to the Aures Mountains, which rival
the plain in monotony. A small establishment
has been constructed at Hammam Salahine.
The spring is sulphuric, yields about 500
gallons per minute, and is considered very
beneficial for consumption, bronchitis, and skin
affections. The French call it “Fontaine

Biskra, Me Deserz‘ Queen I I

Chaude.” The tram stops here for about three-
quarters of an hour, sufficiently long for the
visitor to have his plunge; as for ourselves,
who made this excursion for sight-seeing
purposes, we thought the time would never
pass, so void is the place of interest. A few
most miserable Kabyles, under a tattered piece
of canvas, called by courtesy a tent, were
cooking some dreadful compound, the stench
of which offended the breeze. Numerous tiny
children in scanty rags feebly asked for alms.
On the whole, to get a complete picture of
desolation and wretchedness one cannot do
better than go to Hammam Salahine.

An evening is spent very pleasantly in seeing
the celebrated Ouled N ails in their brilliantly-
illuminated street or dancing at the cafes.
These Almees are the great institution of the
Sahara, and from earliest childhood are taught
the dame de ventre, till their muscles acquire
a flexibility little short of miraculous. There
are very few Ouled Nails in Biskra, but their
ranks are supplemented by Spanish girls and

12 Glimpses of Sunny Lama’s

negresses; however, when a genuine one does
appear, she is eagerly soUght out by the artist
as a model. Clothed in gaudy colours, covered
with one mass of silver ornaments, bracelets,
anklets, and sequins, with the warm com-
plexion of the South, and great raven tresses,
their aspect is striking in the extreme. Their
complexion they improve according to their
notions by liberal use of tar and saffron, and
they amplify their capillary attractions with
horse-hair. We noticed many points of re-
semblance between the Ouled Nails and the
Japanese women; both wear their hair in a
formidable pyramid, and only arrange it at
intervals of weeks or even months; both give
themselves up to a life of licence for years,
losing none of their status by so doing; both
settle down and marry afterwards on the dot
secured by their frailties. To do justice to the
Japanese, they are cleanly in their habits, while
the Ouled Nails only damp the eyelids for toilet,
and never dream of washing more than once in a
few months. We first went to see the dancing

 

 

 

 

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széra, z‘lze Deserf Queen I 3

in the Arab cafes, and were guided there by
the deafening noise of the tam-tam and the
nouba. Entering one, we found the clz'em‘é/e
entirely Oriental, and every seat occupied.
With native courtesy several offered us their
places, and finally we found ourselves next a
tall, good—looking Arab, who possessed a slight
stock of English, of which he seemed very
proud. He informed us that he had been to
America, and had spent several months in
Boston, and he seemed to have accepted the
statement of its citizens, that it was the “ Hub”
of the universe. Ordering coffee, we looked
around the place to which chance had brought
us, and saw that the room was originally white,
but that smoke had blackened ceiling and
rafter. The flickering light cast on dark faces,
snowy bournous, and on the gaudy Ouled Nails,
with their glittering ornaments, formed a most
fantastic scene. These girls danced in a very
languid fashion, and we had come to the con-
clusion that the whole performance was over-
praised, and had said as much to our Arab-

I4 Glimpses of Smmy Lama’s

American acquaintance, when he recommended
us to reserve judgment till the next evening,
when we could see the dance properly at the
Casino. We may say that the next night ten
Ouled Nails, the pick of the tribe for beauty
and agility, and dressed in queenly splendour,
by their clever and graceful dancing quite
did away with our first false impressions. The
market-place at Biskra is an epitome of the
Orient; go there when you will and there is
always something new and interesting. There
cross each other at every instance the various
tribes of the Sahara, the veiled Touareg, the
negro of the Soudan, the fiery Kabyle, and the
cunning Mozabite. Camels stand around, bur-
dened with heavy packs of merchandise, and
ready to join the Desert caravans. Arab
artisans engage in their various trades: here
is a shoemaker patching a yellow Turkish
slipper; here is another stitching away for
dear life and hemming perfectly straight,
without even casting a glance at his work.
As is ever the case in the East, the snake-

Bz'séra, Me Desert Queen I 5

charmer, and the story-teller, are well en
evidence. In several stalls long Oriental
guns, rich with ivory and chased silver, woollen
carpets from the Ziban, and burnouses from
Zouf, are displayed in tempting profusion.
In other stalls are seen stuffed lizards, ante-
lopes’ and gazelles’ horns, and gaudily de-
corated pocket—mirrors used by the negresses
and Ouled N ails. Another curio is the nouba,
or Arabian flute, another a guitar made with
the whole shell of the tortoise. We were
shown tiny vases for holding the antimony
with which the Oriental women darken their
eye- brows. In the butcher’s department,
camels’ flesh was selling at twopence a pound.
Contrary to what our guide told us, we found
that bargaining produced a reduction of fully
a hundred per cent. on the articles we had
chosen, and even at that figure we had prob-
ably paid too much.

The excursion to Sidi-Okba is the most
interesting in the environs of Biskra ; besides
giving us the opportunity of seeing a second

I6 Glimpses of Sunny Lama’s

oasis, there is a curious Arab village there, and
the celebrated mosque of Okba, said to be the
oldest in Africa and the goal of annual pilgrim—
ages. Okba was not only a great warrior,
but a distinguished marabout, and “the first
apostle of Mahomet,” for it was he who, sword
in hand, carried the faith of the Prophet from
Egypt to Morocco, and when he had no other
worlds to conquer, according to the well-known
story, he rode his horse into the Atlantic, saying
that only such an obstacle could prevent him
from forcing the whole world either to embrace
Islamism or die. We cannot help thinking
that there was just a little “bluffing” in this
action of the worthy apostle, for, when on dry
land at Kef-Ed-Dor, he gave up his march
westward because the country looked so for~
lorn. Okba’s tomb is in the mosque, and on
one of the pillars, in Cufic characters, is the
inscription, “Here lies Okba, son of Nafe,
may God receive him in His mercy.”

The afternoon was superb, and as we drove
away from the oasis it is impossible to describe

Biskra, Me Desert Queen I 7

how absolutely beautiful it looked under the
tints of evening; as the long line of palms
slowly faded away in the twilight we felt that
Sidi Okba was now only a memory. The
best place of rendezvous at Biskra is the
Casino, where there is music every evening,
besides an Arab or other fe‘te once weekly.
There is one salon devoted to baccarat, and
another to a kind of roulette, at which only very
small stakes are allowed. The finest general
View of Biskra and the Desert is obtained from
the minaret of the mosque of Sidi-Youdi.
When we went there it was sunset, and then we
could understand why so many artists come to
Biskra. The mountains merged into a tender
blue beneath the evening light, afar a caravan
trailed its slow way to the oasis, and the whole
Desert was one kaleidoscope of shifting colours,
“the last still loveliest.” It is in an hour like
this one feels the full charm of the “gorgeous
East.”

THREE EXCURSIONS ROUND
ALGIERS

WHEN, at length, the charm of the “White
City ” has commenced to wane, when its
Mosques and types begin to pall on the eye,
when tired of the buzz and glare of its dazzling
streets, one turns to Nature for a draught from
her uncloying fountains, then away to the cool
and quiet Cloisters of La Trappe, to the solemn
grandeurs of the Chiffa, and to the wild
“mountain-majesty” of savage Kabylia!

The Trappist Monastery of Staouéli is, '
admittedly, the best excursion around Algiers.
Not to incur the censure of our fair readers,
we must state at once that, beyond the charm-
ing drive and the excellent luncheon served
there, La Trappe is forbidden ground to them.
No female can, under any circumstances, visit
it—except on three days during Holy Week—

18

T/zree Excursions roman! Algiers 19

but can wait in the reception-room for their
male companions to return. Leaving the
flourishing suburb of Mustapha Supe’rieur, the
English settlement, with its handsome Moorish
villas, and luxuriant vegetation, we take the
road to El Biar, a pretty village, and pass, en
roule, several English and American residences.
Some distance further is Chéragas, another
interesting village, of which there are so many
in the plain around Algiers. Soon we enter
the enormous tract of over two thousand acres
belonging to the Trappists, and almost ex—
clusively laid out in vineyards. Through the
trees we see the pretty dome, which marks the
resting-place of the founder, and in a moment
the Monastery is before us. The site is his-
torical, for here the French fought their first
battle in Algeria against the Moslems, whom
they completely routed. It is only a short
distance to Sidi F erruch, where the army landed
in 1830, “arborer ses drapeaux, rendre liberté
aux mers, donner l’Algérie a la France.” The
building is large, and rectangular, has a pretty

20 Glimpses of Sunny Lands

garden in the middle, and a chapel. We were
received in the visitors’ refectory, by a very
intelligent and courteous old monk, who told
us that we would be shown around in a few
moments, when the last party would have
finished their inspection. In the interval we
looked through the various presses,‘ around
the room, which contained the products of the
Trappe. We noticed Specimens of Eucalyp-
tine, a liqueur made from eucalyptus leaves,
and believed to be a remedy against fever, also
bottles of Essence of Geranium. The monas-
tery has an extensive wine—trade, as one might
easily imagine on seeing its enormous vine-
yards. Its red wine enjoys a considerable
reputation, not alone in Algeria but on the
Continent of Europe; and in Algiers the
Trappists have an agent, where casks can be
bought at the rate of threepence a litre. The
old monk very kindly gave us a full account of
the daily life of a Trappist. They are obliged
to retire at seven in the evening and to
rise at two in the morning! They cannot

Téree Excurszb7zs round Algiers 21

touch animal food, and, of course, are obliged
to maintain silence. They cannot look on
woman’s face, and are supposed to attend nine
religious services daily. After entering the
Order, which can be done at the age of six-
teen, they have three years’ probation before
taking the final vows. The Brother now ap-
peared to lead us over the buildings, and told
us he had been here ever since its foundation
in 1843, and had also been at the Tre Fon-
tane, outside Rome. We were conducted, at
first, through the stables and cattle—sheds. The
cellars are much more interesting, some of the
casks being of enormous size. We saw one
which contained ten thousand litres, remind-
ing us of the great “tonne” at Heidelberg.
Here also were the stills for manufacturing the
liqueur and the Geranium essence. We next
entered the Monastery proper, and were taken
to the Dormitory, which was divided into a
large number of tiny rooms comparable to
boxes with the lids off, the partitions not reach-
ing the ceiling. Each one had only place

22 Glz’mfses of Smmy Lama’s

for a narrow bed and a chair. The Refectory
gives a more complete idea of asceticism. Its
white-washed walls are covered with inscrip-
tions advocating frugality in living, and the
bare tables are of funereal black. The name
of each Trappist is written opposite his place,
and there are wooden spoons and napkin rings.
It is sad to reflect on the mournful life so
many fellow—creatures have voluntarily chosen
“in hopes to merit heaven, by making earth
a hell.” It was a relief to get out into
the lightsome Cloisters and the pretty garden,
where all was gay. The library contains a
collection of historical and philosophical as well
as of religious books. We saw numerous
Roman coins and fossils that were picked up
at various times from the Trappist grounds.
There was a large chart giving a chrono-
logical tree of their different Monasteries, all
over the world, since the earliest times, and
another smaller one containing the names of
those now existing. A few names, however,

are omitted in this latter tree, for example,

 

Tkree Excursions round Algiers 2 3

those of the female Trappists at Grenoble and
Lyons, for, odd as it may appear, notwithstand—
ing the strict vows of silence, there are many
ladies who have joined this order. The old
monk, who was an admirable Cicerone, now
told us that it was luncheon-hour, and on join-
ing our friends in the public refectory, we found
them already at table. We began with a
well-cooked omelette, followed by two dishes
of vegetables, potatoes, and beans, concluding
with cheese and fruit. We had red and White
wine, besides a glass of Alicante at dessert.
Meat, of course, is always conspicuous by its
absence. It is etiquette, when leaving, to put
at least a franc in the poor-box, but many, we
are told, sneak away without doing so—a most
shameful abuse of the good monks’ hospitality.
Bidding adieu to La Trappe, we drove home—
wards by the blue waters of the Bay of Algiers,
passing La Pointe de Pescade, with its pictur—
esque old ruin, and the village of Sainte
Eugene, with its host of Jewish inhabitants.
The Gorge de Chiffa is one of the finest

24 Glimfses of Sunny Lands

pieces of scenery, not alone in Algeria but in
Northern Africa. Leaving Algiers at 6.40
A.M., we accomplish the journey of thirty-two
miles to Blida, the starting-point, in about two
hours. This very slow pace of the trains is

universal in Algeria; in the present instance,

however, few will regret it, as the country en
route is a veritable garden. Most travellers
stop at Boufarick, to see the Oriental market,
and continue their journey by the next train.
We cannot say, judging by our own experi-
ence, that the market was especially interest-
ing, nearly all the goods being of European
manufacture. Those who have seen Biskra
can well afford to leave Boufarick alone. The
town is clean, and well-shaded by numerous
plane-trees, some of great size, so that in
summer it is agreeably cool. The statue of
Sergeant Blandon recalls a most affecting
incident of heroic warfare, for he it was who
held his own for five hours against three
hundred Arabs, with a force one-twelfth of
the number, and when relief arrived, only five

l
3’
.1

 

Three Excursions rozma’ Algiers 25

of his men were alive, he himself being amongst
the slain. It makes one think of the days of
Leonidas. Proceeding from Boufarick, we
soon reach Blida, the great charm of which is
in its situation under the Atlas Mountains, and
in its luxurious orange-groves, which yearly
supply over five million fruit. The town is a
military centre, and as such is gay with “the
pomp and circumstance of glorious war.” The
barracks take up quite a district, and the visitor
is shown a very fine collection of Arabian
and other horses. The town park, with its
fountain and flowers, is very pretty, and the
Rue des Coulouglis, or descendants of the
Turks, most quaint and characteristic. Pro-
ceeding in carriage from Blida, through neat
and smiling suburbs, we reach the “Bois
Sacré,” where gigantic old olive trees are
to be seen, round some of which creeping
roses extend to their very summits, and when
loaded with their crimson and yellow blooms
offer, it is needless to say, a very lovely
picture. In a corner of the wood is the

26 Glimpses of Sunny Lama’s
dome-shaped Kouba of Sidi Yacoub. Con-

tinuing our journey, we passed a spacious plain
used as a race-course, and also the Chiffa river,
which at this season—April—had more rocks
than water. We crossed the latter subse«
quently several times, and went by vineyards
and plains of waving grain, and through fields
vast mosaics of white and yellow marguerites,
camomiles and poppies. After about an hour’s
drive the mountains closed in and we entered
the Gorge. Fancy a magnificent defile, about
thirty yards wide, between two chains of
mountains over two thousand feet high and
absolutely perpendicular, at whose summits
wheel and circle numbers of eagles, whilst in
the rocky bed of the stream below gambol
swarms of wild monkeys. The floor of the
valley is occupied by the fine carriage road
and the Chiffa river, whilst here and there,
emerging from a tunnel, the railroad clings to
the side of the precipice. In the perpendicular
nature of its sides, and in the savageness of

the scenery, it bears some resemblance to the

T/zree Excursions rozma’ Aérz'ers 27

stupendous Yosemite, in far California. There
are numerous small streams hurrying down the
mountains and filling the air with music. On
the rocks are mosses and quantities of maiden-
hair fern, and some are “with wild thyme and
the gadding vine o’ergrown.” Turning off on
the right is a deep and narrow valley with a
fine stream clattering down it. Here is the
H6tel du Ruisseau des Singes. In the woods
behind are numbers of wild monkeys, and a
pretty path takes us beside the stream, far
up the valley under the shade of wild fig-trees.
We are now in the heart of the Gorge de
Chiffa, and here the lover of the picturesque
may linger. The Gorge extends about a mile
further, and then Nature, as if tired with her
stupendous effort, gradually sinks back into
the common-place.

We come to our third and last excursion,
Fort National, interesting from two points
of view—firstly, because it affords a good
centre for examining the wild country of
Kabylia and its most original inhabitants,

28 Glimpses of Sunny Lands

and again, because the mountain scenery of
the Djurdjura around it has a sublimity equal
to Switzerland, and is completely unhack-
neyed. Following the usual disagreeable cus-
tom, the train leaves Algiers at 7.10 in the
morning, and crawls along its sixteen miles
an hour. The country is very tame, and one
approaches Tizi Ousu before it at all improves,
and here the railway stops. Some tourists
stay over at Tizi Ousu, and unless very
philosophical are sure to repent doing so.
Though capital of Kabylia, it is but a fifteenth—
rate French town. There is absolutely nothing
to see beyond two Kabyle villages, any num—
ber of which can be visited around Fort
National. The creature comforts are remark-
able by their absence on this whole excursion,
the hotels being poor and dirty and the ser-
vice abominable, so that the traveller must
come prepared to rough it or his temper and
digestion will suffer.

We proceed to Fort National in diligence
over an excellent road, constructed, in 1847, by

 

Tflree Excursions round A {gz'ers 29

the French soldiers in twenty—five days—a
marvellous piece of work. For the first hour
we traverse level country, chiefly devoted
to grain and fig—culture, then we mount so
gradually as hardly to perceive it till we find
ourselves about three thousand feet above sea-
level. The district is entirely hilly and beauti-
fully green, whilst here and there red-tiled
Kabyle villages crown the topmost summits.
The day we travelled a dense mist swallowed
up most of the landscape, but luckily, towards
sunset, it partly rolled away, disclosing the
glorious chain of the Djurdjura, still clothed
with its winter snows. After an interesting
drive of four hours and a half we reached our
destination. Fort National is merely a village
perched up about two thousand feet upon a
green hill, and surrounded by a fortification.
The air feels so pure and bracing after the hot-
house atmosphere of Algiers that it seems a
wonder suitable accommodation and amusements
are not provided to make of it a summer resort
for Algerians, whom the fierce heats drive in

3o Glimpses of Sammy Lama’s

large numbers yearly to France, Switzerland,
and other countries. There are several Kabyle
villages in the vicinity, and we walked over to
one of them through a charming valley full of
wild broom, lavender, and cistus, whilst perched
on the rocks were numbers of cranes. The
whole country was a succession of hills and
mountains, and always the dominant feature
shone afar, the stupendous Djurdjura. After
a walk of about two miles we arrived at the '
village, and were speedily surrounded by a
band of Kabyle children, who never left us
whilst we were in the place. It is, perhaps,
hardly necessary, at this time of day, to men-
tion that the Kabyles, or Berbers, are the
descendants of the original inhabitants of
North Africa, who receded from the shores
of the Mediterranean to the mountains, or the
Desert, before the tide of Arab invasion. We
found their houses, or rather huts, all one-
storied and constructed of mud or coarse stones,
with red-tiled roofs. Several stood in pairs,
having a garden in common. The streets, if

 

 

 

I)

|\'A\l§\'I‘IC FAMILY

 

T/zree Excursions round Algiers 31

such they can be called, were very narrow and
abominably dirty. The inhabitants all sleep
huddled together, and frequently occupy the
same quarters as the cattle and beasts of
burden. The women look ugly and prema-
turely aged, and it is not astonishing when
we consider that they frequently nurse two
children of different ages at the same time.
The Kabyles disregard the most elementary
rules of cleanliness and hygiene, with the
result that disease in its most loathsome
forms is but too prevalent. The jewellery
worn by the women is very characteristic. It
is chiefly of white metal or silver, and is piled
on in great profusion in bracelets, anklets,
necklaces, and large hoop earrings. These
are good souvenirs of a visit to Kabylia, and
can be purchased at an Arab-curio shop in
Fort National. We should, however, mention
that this Arab has been to the World’s Fair at
Chicago, and has added to his already astute
disposition the cunning acquired there, with
striking results, and purchasers will do well

32 GZZMpses qf Sunny Lands

to disregard his protestations and beat down
his prices, at least some thirty per cent., or they
will be victims. In language the Kabyles are
quite distinct from the Arabs, but both practise
Mohamedanism, which is easily seen in the
Mosque in every village. They allow more
liberty to the women than the Arabs do, and it
is too often abused. The women go unveiled,
and contribute not a little to the family revenue
by spinning wool for burnouses and haicks,
besides making the celebrated Kabyle pottery
which is seen everywhere through Algeria.
As a rule they marry very young—generally
at the age of twelve. On our return from the
village we saw a characteristic bridal ceremony.
The groom was mounted on horseback. and
was carrying the partner of his joys and sor-
rows bodily in his arms, she being closely
veiled. Behind were three or four more
steeds with the trousseau, and a band of pic-
turesque young girls, carrying each a quaintly-
shaped jar, brought up the procession. The
young Kabyles are notedly pretty, but age

 

Téree Excursions rozma’ A{gz°ers 33

rapidly withers them. See one Kabyle
village, and you see all; you see the same
Mosque, the same stone huts, the same types,
the same narrow streets and the same dirt, and
such villages are on every hill-top around the
country. Besides those glimpses into native
life and manners, from Fort National we can
enjoy mountain rambles, and revel in wild and
picturesque scenery, the remembrance of which
“will be a joy for ever.”

CAPRI

LEAVING the dust and din of Naples, its im-
portunate vetturini and clamorous hawkers,
and crossing the lovely bay, a short trip of
twenty miles brings us to another era and
another clime. As we leave white Parthenope
behind, the island reveals itself more dis-
tinctly every moment, and we see that it is
formed of two mountains; the higher of these
is Monte Solara, with an altitude of two
thousand feet, and the lower has about half
that elevation, the town of Capri being situated
in the hollow between, and that of Anacapri
considerably higher. We touch at Sorrento,
with its orange-groves, and soon our voyage
is over. Craggy Capri outstretches his rocky
arms to welcome us, and, as the little steamer

nears the pier, several boats shoot out and
34

 

1
!
F
,l
l
\u

 

C aprz' 3 5

convey the luggage to the beach. A crowd
of beautiful peasant women dispute for the
privilege of carrying our portmanteau, so like
another Paris we consigned it to the fairest,
and followed in the wake of our goddess.
We were surprised with what ease our fair
conductress bore the burden on her head, but
a short acquaintance with the customs and
wonder ceases, for it is the women who do
all the hard work on the island. Even in
romantic Capri we have to face the prosaic
hotel omnibuses, and, entering one, a half-
hour of continual mounting brings us to
our dainty-looking hostelry beside the town.
Nearly all the island rises precipitously from
the sea, and there are only two or three
places where vessels can enter. This in-
accessibility is generally supposed to be the
real reason why the Emperor Tiberius made
Capri his home for so long a period. True,
according to Suetonius, he came here to
gratify morbid, sensual appetites, but anyone
that considers the state of Rome during the

36 Glimpses of Sunny Lamz’s

Empire, will easily see that it was not neces-
sary to leave that city to seek new forms of
viciousness; besides, the great age that the
Emperor attained strongly negatives the as-
sumption that he lived so madly. Byron
intended to write a drama on Tiberius, and
if he could have so far mastered his penchant
for the Venetian beauty Marianna as to have
allowed himself time for even a glance at the
lovely isle, we can fancy the grand, misan-
thropical, and voluptuous production with which
our literature would have been enriched.
When discussing Capri, it is as impossible to
keep Tiberius out of the question as for Mr
Dick to omit mention of Charles the First’s
head in his ever-memorable memorial. He is
undoubtedly Me great personage of the island.
He erected, or at any rate completed, twelve
splendid temples and several baths, besides
making roads and other improvements. With
the exception of one Villa, no well-preserved
work of his remains, though fragments of
pillars and baths and mosaics are scattered

C aprz' 37

about everywhere. The ordinary tourist’s Visit
to Capri means simply disembarking from the
Naples steamer into a small boat, seeing the
Blue Grotto, lunching on the island, and
returning the same evening to Naples. This
is seeing the Blue Grotto, if you will, it is not
seeing Capri. A day or two can be delight-
fully spent on the island, enjoying the grand
views and walks that it affords, and observing
its interesting inhabitants, as well as its relics
of the past. A pleasant saunter, and one
very characteristic, may be taken, over the
cliffs, by the three giant rocks that are
known as the Faraglioni. The path Winds
along some two hundred feet above the sea,
and on the rocks beautiful little lizards are
darting about in the sun, and even in the
month of January butterflies of a bright golden
hue are seen disporting in the breeze, whilst
an odd violet gleams through the dewy grass.
A little further and we reach the Villa of
Tiberius, overhanging the sea. One cannot
help feeling how such a structure shames

38 Glimpses of Sunny Lands

the builders of our modern days. After two
thousand years much of the roof still remains,
the mosaic on the floors is in part intact, and
the walls are mostly perfect. It is plainly
enough constructed; no marbles or ornate
decorations appear, and even the mosaic is of
a very plain, rough quality, but in the number
and extent of the apartments one perceives the
eye to luxury so eminently characteristic of that
period of Rome’s career. The villa is built
principally of bricks, four layers thick, connected
with stucco. We were shown, by a bustling
old woman, who took on herself the duty of
guide, an underground chamber, which, accord-
ing to her learned decision, was the one where
Tiberius confined his victims. An enterprising
inn-keeper of the neighbourhood, resolving to
turn the sentimentality. of travellers to account,
has actually pitched on the very place whence
Tiberius is supposed to have flung those
victims into the sea. Here we were enter-
tained with the Tarantella, the famous national

dance of Naples, but it is seen much better at

C aprz' 39

Sorrento, where handsome men and women
perform in attractive costumes.

The ascent of Monte Solara affords a
glorious View. In one sweep we take in the
whole entrancing Bay from Cape Misenum,
of Virgilian memories, to Sorrento, sacred to
the orange and to Tasso, and between these
two points, what wonders! Baiae, ’alas, now
forsaken! where once Horace and a Caesar
dwelt; Avernus, the hell of the ancients, over
whose gloomy wave no bird could fly and
live; further on the Tomb where Virgil sleeps;
the white Parthenope; the buried Pompeii,
and dominating all, the smoke-crowned summit

of Vesuvius. Looking past Naples,

“ O’er the headlands far away
Sweeps the blue Salernian bay,
\Vith its sickle of white sand ;
Further still, and furthermost
On the dim-discovered coast,
Paestum and its ruins lie,

And, amid the mulberry trees
Sits Amalfi in the heat,

Ever bathing her white feet,
In the tideless summer seas.”

4o Glimpses of Sunny Lama’s

Of course, of the island of Capri itself, a
microscopic View is obtained, of its two towns,
Capri and Anacapri, with their white domes
peeping to the sky, and suggesting that some
few hundred miles more have been traversed
by the traveller, and that he is landed amidst
the mosques and seraglios of the East. De-
scending, we may profitably visit Anacapri for
its quaintness, and for the beauty of its inhabi—
tants, with their distinctly Grecian type of
features, indicating, immediately, their origin.
Though so near to Capri town, jealousy and
rivalry kept them for centuries apart, till they
remain as distinct in character as in blood.
T lze excursion of Capri is to the Grotta
Azzurra, or Blue Grotto, and it should be
undertaken directly a fine day offers, as other-
wise, if a bad spell of weather sets in, and the
traveller’s stay is limited, he may be compelled
to leave without seeing it. When one learns
that entrance to the Grotto can only be ob-
tained by sea, that its mouth is so small that
the visitor must lie down in the boat to pass

 

('.\l'|\'l

 

C afii'z' 4 I

through, and that to obtain the presence of
colour which makes it renowned a strong sun
is requisite, it will be seen that an almost
perfect day is demanded for the excursion. On
one occasion, a party, neglecting the first
requisite of a calm sea, managed to get into
the grotto, but during their visit, the wind
and tide slightly rising, they were obliged to
spend a day and a half inside, and to get their
meals pushed into the cavern on poles. Per-
haps it was to prevent the occurrence of such
accidents that an enterprising American formed
a scheme to have an opening made into the
grotto from above, with a patent hydraulic lift
to convey the sight-seer, and an inn to re-
gale him after his fatiguing(!) explorations.
Thank Heaven such nineteenth centuryvan-
dalism was prevented; and if the present
traveller gets a little too much of the sea-spray,
there is, at least, that poetic feeling hanging
round this excursion which is its greatest charm.
The day we selected had every requisite, and
a cheery Capriote boatman, after a row of

42 Glimpses of Sunny Lama's

twenty minutes from the Marina, or landing-
place, shot us safely through the rocky aper-
ture into the azure breast of the Grotto.
Alluring as the subject is for description, it
would be vain to attempt it. “When seen it
becomes a part of sight,” and no piling up
of epithets can adequately portray it. Nor
is five or ten minutes’ observation sufficient;
half an hour should be spent inside, in order
that the eye, growing perfectly accustomed to
the gloom of the cavern, can appreciate the
marvellous colour of the water. When we
plunged our hands into the sea, they seemed
an intense blue. The boatman usually makes
little peasant-boys or girls swim about for the
delectation of the visitor, and they really seem
like gigantic blue-flies or other huge insects.
It is curious how the Ancients are silent as
to the “Grotta Azzurra”; it very probably
remained unknown until a comparatively recent
period. Addison, in his “Notes on Italy,”
gives a description of a cavern somewhat
similar, still, from all absence of mention as

Capri 43 i

to any colour-characteristic, we must infer that
it was not the same, unless the gloom of
the particular day when the Poet saw it
accounted for the fact. Leaving the Grotto,
it is convenient to take this opportunity of
making the giro, or circuit, of the island—a
most attractive little voyage. What with the
magnificent cliffs and lovely views, the blue
“of summer seas,” and the frequently en-
countered half—sunken remains of old Roman
baths and other relics, the interest never flags.
The centre rock of the Faraglione is pierced
by a tunnel, and through it the boat is rowed.
There are three or four other grottoes around
Capri, each one claiming a particular colour
as its specialty, as the Verde and Bianca, but
their fame is merged in the superior attrac-
tions of the Grotta Azzurra. We must say,
that when we visited them, none of them acted
up to their names, but remained a uniform tint
—that of the surrounding Mediterranean.
When the old castle of Barbarossa, the Cor-

sair, has been visited, all the “lions” will have

44 Glimpses of Smmy Lama’s

been exhausted, but it must not be imagined
that the novelty of the island would have then
departed. The peculiarity of Capri is, that
one cannot stroll in any direction without hav-
ing a subject for a picture, whether we regard
the little walks, beautiful in themselves, or the
lovely views which they afford of the Bays of
Parthenope or Salerno. What charms, too,
in the soft and mellow nights! when, through
the intense azure of the heavens, the stars
gleam large and bright, and seem so much
closer to the earth than in the cold North
that we might imagine they wished to take
a nearer View of those more favoured climes,
with their bright, eternal eyes. Strange con-
trast to this serene beauty, across the moonlit
bay, above voluptuous Parthenope, gleams
forth “like a denunciation of doom ” the fierce
and stern light of Vesuvius. Nature has dealt
as kindly with the islanders as it has with the
isle. They are eagerly sought out by the
artist as a very fine type of Southern loveli-
ness. Richness of complexion and eyes of

C apri 45

marvellous beauty constitute their chief charm,
and they owe nothing of this to art, for they
not alone disregard those little accessories
which, if general opinion traduces not, our
own ladies bring to reinforce their allure-
ments, but they go without those apparent
essentials, soap and water. Even with such
disadvantages, they far excel the pale and
tired—looking maids of Naples, yet one does
not find amongst them the stateliness, diver-
sity, and picturesqueness of type so noticeable
in the bye-streets of Venice. The only risk
in coming to Capri is that one may, afterwards,
find it very difficult to tear themselves away,
and this is no imaginary danger when we
consider that many who only meant to stay
a few days have ended by building a home
for themselves and dwelling permanently on
the island. We must not forget that the
ancient poets located the Siren Isles in the
immediate vicinity, and Capri has absorbed
enough of their influence to still allure the
passing travellers, though, we can assure them,
in this case to a very enviable doom.

IN OLD SEVILLA

THE first feature that must strike anyone
approaching Seville is the Oriental aspect of
the country; palms, orange-trees, acacias, and
sugar-cane thriving everywhere. And this
similitude appears not only in the landscape,
but is as strikingly manifested in the manners
and customs of the inhabitants. The habit of
clapping the hands to demand attendance is
much in vogue, the handkerchief so many
wear round the head is but a relic of the
turban, and the donkeys that are continually
ridden through the streets without saddle or
stirrups are very suggestive of the Orient.
Entering the city, the narrow ways, the white
houses, and numerous cupolas fully maintain
the illusion. For all that, Old Sevilla has
charms quite her own, and well—marked char-

acteristics, so that she can never degenerate
46

In Old Sew/la 47

into a mere type of Islamism. Truly the
Romans showed their usual wisdom when,
in the days of Julius Caesar, they flocked in
their thousands to seek health and beauty
under those lustrous skies. On our way to
the best general point of observation—the
Giralda-tower of the great Cathedral—let us
observe the Sevillian houses. Each one is
entered by a richly ornamented barred gate,
and glancing through we perceive a pretty
marble—paved courtyard, on which the lower
rooms open. This is full of orange trees and
fragrant flowers, whilst in the centre a fountain
sends forth a crystal stream which falls in
diamond showers into a marble basin where
golden carp are swarming. The families al-
most live in these courts, and the lady of the
house gives her term/ids, or receptions, there,
where thick Spanish chocolate with the frothy
azmm/z'llo takes the place of our afternoon tea.
Ascend now with me the lofty Giralda, and
let us gaze together over the fairy city. Be-
neath are the white buildings with domes and .

48 Glimpses of Sammy Lama’s

minarets relieving the prospect, and we notice
that every roof is a miniature garden stocked
with cactus, and ablaze with full red roses.
Afar the Guadalquivir flows onward to the
sea—turbid it is, but mellowed by distance,
and, with an azure sky above, we think only
of our ideal river famed in song and story.
Most prominent object by the bank is the
Torre del Oro, with its golden dome. Directly
beneath is the Cathedral, whilst near at hand
is the Alcazar, with its Moorish work, rivalled
only by the Alhambra at Grenada. Further
on is the Fabbrica de Tabaccos, where the
charming and wayward Carmen lived and
loved. Last, but not least, is the great Plaza
de Toros, where the Sevillians, in their
thousands, loll gloating over the death drama
of the fated animal from the moment when
he makes his wild rush into the arena till he
drops lifeless before the powers of theEspada.

Descending, let us visit the Cathedral, sadly
disillusioned though we will be, for, owing to
repairs, the whole interior is one mass of

In Old Sew/[a 49

scaffolding, and it is difficult to form any but
the most hazy conception of the structure.
Nothing, however, can conceal its great size
and massiveness, and its shape indicates the
original site to have been that of a Mosque
in the old Moorish days. The Church, we
were told, had been damaged by an un—
discovered spring pouring for years against
the foundations and sapping them, till down
came pillars and ceiling, involving the famous
organ in their work of destruction. People
used to come from all quarters to hear the
music, and as our guide spoke with bated
breath of its grandeur, giving us a tiny piece
of wood that once formed part of the instru-
ment, we were reminded of Caleb Balderstone
and how reverentially he handled the feather,
the last relic of his master’s fallen greatness.
Murillo and Velasquez lavished the wealth of
their genius on the side chapels. The former’s
“Visit of San Antonio” is probably the best
painting the cathedral possesses, and, more—
over, there is a history connected with it. The
D

5O Glz'mflses of Sunny Lama’s

kneeling figure of the saint was cut out by
thieves, about twenty years ago, and search
was vainly made for it until it was offered
for sale to a New York gentleman for fifty
pounds, but he, having heard of the robbery,
gave information, with the result that San
Antonio has been restored to the picture,
apparently none the worse for his trans-
atlantic experiences. The son of the great
Columbus sleeps the last long sleep within
these walls, and each Easter a temple in the
form of a cross is raised over his tomb.

For the hurried traveller Seville is the most
convenient of cities, the principal sights being
very close together. It was but a step from
the Cathedral to the great Tobacco Manufac~
tory, of which so much has been said and
written. Of course, to see the making of
cigars or cigarettes is not what attracts visitors.
It is the fact that over a thousand women are
engaged in the business, and that the majority
being Sevillians, one expects a fine show of
beauties. On receiving our tickets at the door

 

 

 

 

 

(‘.\'I‘HICI)I\’AI‘, SEVILLE

 

[12 Old Sew/la 51

we had to wait till the conductor had finished
pioneering the preceding party. We were
amused meanwhile at the elaborate search each
employé had to undergo before being allowed
out of the building. Every pocket was ex-
amined by the inspector for lurking cigars or
cigarettes, and every inch of their body sounded
as if for a medical examination. When our
conductor appeared we were led through long
halls, some devoted to the making of cigars,
and here generally the women were middle—
aged, whilst in others young girls manipulated
the cigarettes. The employees almost make
the factory their home, taking their meals there,
and having their babies with them. The noise
of chattering women, their continual demands
for tips, the heat, dust, and smell make the
place far from agreeable except for a very short
visit. Though, of course, there are some pretty
women, these are very much in the minority,
and the traveller can better appreciate the
Sevillians’ beauty in a half hour’s promenade
in Las Delicias gardens, and with much

52 Glimpses (2/ Sunny Lama’s

pleasanter surroundings. The young girls
receive about half the pay of the cigareras,
and generally have a lover whom they almost
always support, leaving him free to puff cigar-
ettes and lounge around the plazas all day long.

A moment brings us to the Alcazar palace,
one of the finest specimens of Moorish work
imaginable. We are told that it is built on
the place once held by the Roman Praetor, and
that it was restored in the fourteenth century
by the notorious Pedro the Cruel. That
monarch, dazzled by the Oriental magnificence
of the Alhambra at Granada, employed Moors
as artificers, and certainly they have made a
wondrous creation of the palace. It has been
occupied by several of the Spanish Kings, and
the histories of Charles V., the Philips, and
especially of Pedro the Cruel and his mistress,
Maria de Padilla, are intimately associated with
it. The delicate lace-work arabesques are
marvellously beautiful, and in the “Hall of
the Ambassadors” the ceiling called “Media
N aranja ” represents the interior of an orange.

In Old Sevz'lla 53

Here we saw the bloody stains where Pedro
had his guest and brother, the Master of San-
tiago, cruelly murdered. The Alcazar gardens
are like a fairy-land, and have well been com-
pared to the Hesperides, with their golden
oranges. The arms of Charles V.—after
whom the garden is named—are cut in box-
wood. We were also shown the tank where
Philip V. fished, and the bath of the charming
Maria de Padilla.

The three principal sights of Seville we have
just enumerated, but amongst the lesser, the
Casa da Pilatos holds a place. It is an imita-
tion of Pilate’s house in Jerusalem, and has
some fine old pillars from the ruins of Roman
Italica. Lovers of literature will surely go to
see the house of “The Barber of Seville,” and
everyone the house of Murillo. Most of the
excursions around the city are very uninterest-
ing, so the afternoon should find us in the
gardens of Las Delicias, on the banks of the
Guadalquivir, where all the beauty and fashion
congregate, and where the finest types of

54 G/zm/éses of Sunny Lands

Sevillian loveliness can be seen. We will
spend, doubtless, most of the afternoon in our
inspection, so when we follow the last carriages
back to the city it will be time for us to have
a Spanish dinner. We will observe how the
fish is served in the middle of the meal, how
everyone smokes cigarettes between the courses,
how the wine has a very pronounced flavour of
the pig-skin in which it is kept, and probably we
will rest satisfied with our primary experience
of Spanish cuisine. The evening is best passed
in one of the theatres, of which there are several
in the city. In some, as many as half a dozen
short pieces are represented the same night,
each one lasting about half an hour. A
- favourite play is “Don Juan E1 Tenorio.”
The hero, from a life of utter depravity, was
rescued by a supernatural apparition of a
funeral, in which he saw that the corpse was
his own. It was probably this legend that
accounts for Shelley’s well-known vision shortly
before his death in the Gulf of Spezia. The
entertainment offered the public is often very

[72 Old 562127102 55

poor, but then the Sevillians seem easily
pleased. We remember one evening entering
a well-known theatre, where the first scene re-
presented a stormy ocean, badly painted and
manifestly put in motion by sticks very spas-
modically plied beneath. A boat appeared on
the waters, a man who had been lying therein
got up, and, uttering not a word, made a few
tragic gestures, plenty of lightning flashed,
down went the boat and also the curtain.
This was received with rapturous applause, .
and the poor actor had to be drowned three
times over. How pleasant to exchange the
warm, heavy atmosphere of the theatre for the
cool, fresh beauty of the night. Ah! those
soft and lustrous nights of Seville, who can
understand them that has not felt their
witchery? How pure is yonder vault of blue
where gleam the full bright stars, anon the
moon sails proudly into the heavens, flooding
the fairy city with her mellow light, and fling-
ing her “path of rays ” o’er the Guadalquivir,
once dyed with the heart’s blood of Castillian

56 Glimpses of Smmy Lands

and of Moor, but whose waters now “sleep in
smiles,” lulled beneath the charmed spell of
night. ’Twas in this Seville that the Tyrians
introduced, in days gone by, the worship of
Venus under Salambo’s name, and potent still
her influence. The ladies, with their luxuriant
locks of jet, their glorious eyes and stately
figures, seem to have won the favour of the
goddess. The gallantry that prevails, the soft
whisperings of the moon-lit rendezvous, and
the voluptuous touchings of the guitar, pro-
claim thee still, oh beauteous Seville—the City
of Love! ’

ATHENS, “THE VIOLET—
CROWNED "

AFTER a stormy trip from Smyrna, we were
unfeignedly glad when a lovely April dawn
saw us cast anchor in the harbour of the
Peiraeus. The golden dreams into which the
sight of the long-looked—for Hellas had thrown
us were of short duration. The nineteenth
century rapidly asserted its claims to our con-
sideration in the shape of hotel-touts and
custom-house officials. Our ship became the
centre of a swarm of small boats, and we
were accosted, in a perfect babel of tongues,
with demands for patronage. Selecting the
least piratical-looking boatman, we soon found
ourselves at the custom-house, and, after a
very lenient examination, took a carriage for
Athens. Of the Peiraeus itself we need say
little, the town being quite modern and of

57

58 Glimpses of Sunny Lama’s

small interest, except commercially speaking.
We observed, however, remains of the “ Long
Walls” of Themistocles, which, in the days
of Greece’s prosperity, had made Athens and
the Peiraeus practically one. In the blue
distance rose the foam—flecked promontory of
Akte, where sleeps their mighty founder,
Themistocles.
“That tomb which, gleaming o’er the cliff,

First greets the homeward-veering skiff,
High o’er that land he saved in vain.”

Though early in April, we found the heat
excessive and the vegetation parched. After
driving for a short time, We suddenly stopped
opposite a poor—looking café. It seems custom
has enacted this break on the hour’s trip to
Athens. The delay is rather trying on the
temper, but, making a virtue of necessity, we
entered the droll café, where Turkish delight,
mastix,‘ and raki seemed the favourite orders.
Proceeding on our journey, we soon beheld
the Acropolis, with the Temple of Theseus
at its feet.

At/zms, “ 7715 V z’o/et—C ragweed ” 59

Remembering that April and May bring so
many Visitors to Athens, we had engaged
accommodation in advance, with the result
that we soon found ourselves in comfortable
quarters at the Hotel Grande ‘Bretagne, in
the principal square, facing the King’s Palace.
We may remark that our hotel, like all the
first-class ones at Athens, was eminently satis-
factory. A feature of the breakfast is honey
from the classic Hymettus. Modern Athens
has only been capital since 1835; previously
government was at N auplia, which, from a
business point of View, might seem preferable,
but all Philhellenes must rejoice that the “owl—
faced” goddess is no longer slighted, and that
her favourite Athens once more wields the
sceptre. It is a bright, well-constructed city,
built mainly by King Otho’s Bavarian archi-
tects. The shops, however, are very poorly
stocked, and altogether there seems little busi-
ness doing. The cafes are the centre of excite-
ment, and the air resounds with the names

of Tricoupis or Delyannis, or other political

6o Ginnpses of Sunny Lands

heroes. House-rents are rather high, and ser-
vice not over satisfactory. Native women-
servants are difficult to obtain, and the better-
class families import English or French. The
principal streets are called Hermes and Aeolus,
and cut each other at right angles. Byron’s
services to Greece are not forgotten, for there
is a street named after him. They tell a story,
that four travellers were seized some years ago
by the banditti, but when the captain of the
band heard that his prisoners were Byron’s
countrymen, he gave them their liberty with-
out a ransom. If true, “nothing was heard
like it since the days of Orpheus.” Athens
boasts a handsome University, several elegant
Museums, besides marble villas. One of the
finest belonged to Dr Schliemann. Some
years before, being fortunate enough to have
letters of introduction to the great explorer,
we visited the house, and though the learned
Doctor was absent at Troy, we were shown
through the principal apartments, and saw his
museum of Trojan relics. The latter was

Alflem, “ Tfie V z'olezf-C rowne ” 6 I

disappointing. There were numbers of jars,
and other vessels, but with little variety of
designs. The gold ornaments are not in this
collection, but in the museum at Berlin. The
mansion itself is beautifully decorated—the
walls and ceilings with elegant frescoes, and
the floor. with mosaics. We noticed also
pictures of Dr Schliemann’s children, who
are called Andromache and Agamemnon.
There is a very perceptible trace left in
Athens of Roman civilization which must
necessarily be referred to in any description of
the Hellenic capital. We remember that if
Greece fell under the military sway of the
Romans, she rather dominated her conqueror
Where art and literature were concerned, and
that it was quite the mode to cultivate and
patronize all Hellenic. It was natural, then,
that great buildings of Roman origin should
spring up in the capital. The Odeion of
Herodes Atticus is one of these. It is a
theatre in a poor state of preservation built
by Atticus for the benefit of the Athenian

62 Glimpses of Sunny Lands

citizens. The Arch of Hadrian is also note-
worthy as separating old Athens from the more
modern Roman city of Hadrian, and on its
sides are inscriptions defining the respective
cities. The Roman ruins are apt to be slighted
in Greece, “where we regard them as in-
truders.”

At first sight the Greek ruins cannot fail
to disappoint. If we except those of the
Acropolis, there remain in Athens only two or
three of any great importance, and we feel this
sense of loss even more keenly when we pene-
trate into the interior of the country; Sparta
and Thebes have practically nothing to show,
and Olympia little commensurate with our
expectations, if we except the grand Hermes
of Praxiteles. Even the few relics, however,
are such gems that they in a measure make
up for what the ages have swept away. Any-
one desirous of studying Greek architecture
fully, should not rest content with a journey
through Greece, but should visit the old
temples left by the Hellenic Colonists at

A Mam, “ 7726 V z'olet— C roamed ” 63

Paestum, near Naples, and at Girgenti, in
Sicily. The temple of Concordia in the latter
place is wonderfully preserved, and, in fact,
besides the Parthenon and Theseion, Greece
cannot match those ruins on alien soil. The
Theseion we have just referred to is emphati-
cally the most perfect ruin in Athens. Like
the Parthenon it was used as a church, and like
the Parthenon it wears the golden hues of time.

A small plateau about two hundred feet high
—so small that one can walk all over it in a
few minutes—~such is the Acropolis, and yet
what great memories crowd its summit. ’Twas
here that the mighty Pericles communed with
Phidias, his no less mighty friend, to raise those
wondrous structures that two thousand years
could not destroy, and that only the weapons of
modern barbarism could even deface. ’Twas
here that the great Panathenaic procession
came to consecrate the cricfitog or robe of Athene
in the Parthenon, here walked and scoffed the
haughty Alcibiades, here spoke the silver-
tongued Demosthenes. “When we reflect,”

64 Glimpses of Sunny Lands

to quote Professor Mahaffy’s words, “how all
the old-world culture culminated in Greece
—all Greece in Athens—all Athens in the
Acropolis,” we feel ourselves lost in this
grand maze of reminiscence. In Pausanias we
read of magnificent-cryselephantine figures, of
tombs and shrines at every turn in Athens, of
myriads of statues that covered the entire
Acropolis. We read also of the great pro-
ductions of Polygnotus and other painters that
decorated the temple. Alas! Troja fin? and
seventeen centuries have annihilated too many
of the wonders once beheld by the Roman
traveller. Passing through the Propylaea, with
its colonnade of Doric pillars, we find ourselves
in the arcana of the buried past of old Hellas.
On our right is the Parthenon,—the temple of
the tutelary goddess of Athens—Athene—and
on our left stands the Erechtheum. As the
former is the finest specimen of Doric architec-
ture that remains to the modern world, so the
latter, with its graceful and airy columns, is
the best representative of the Ionic. In the

A Mem, “ T/ze V {old-Crowned ” 65

Erechtheum are the well-known Caryatides,
or statues of maidens, taking the place of
pillars ; besides their innate artistic beauty they
lend an air of grace and lightness to the build-
ing, and this architectural device has been much
used in modern days. We first turn to the
Parthenon, that grand old ruin that has echoed
the prayers of three religions. To religion it
owed all; its creation, when it rose majestic at
the word of Pericles Athene’s shrine ; its safety
when, as a Greek Church and a Mosque, it was
sacred even to the destroyer. Its deadliest
foes must be sought in the Venetian Morosini
and the British Elgin, the one being answer—
able for the shattering of its pillars by a
bomb, in the attack of 1687, and the other
for the removal of the famous frieze wrought
by the chisel of immortal Phidias. As is well
known, the frieze represents a procession of
knights, maidens, and Athenian citizens, bear—
ing offerings and making the annual presenta-
tion of the créefixa; to Athene. The unity of the
work is now absolutely destroyed; what with
E

66 Glz’mfises of Smmy Land:

the great portion of it taken away to England,
and with that which now lies in the paltry
museum on the Acropolis, only a quarter of
the great production remains intact. Though
the “ Curse of Minerva ” deals too hardly with
Lord Elgin when it says: “He basely stole
what less barbarians won,” still, we must regret
that it was a Briton who damaged the greatest
art-creation of the past. In other respects,
however, the Parthenon is singularly perfect:
true, all the internal adornments are lost to
us for ever, true, the great cryselephantine
statue of Athene is destroyed, still we have
the temple standing- there, as it stood for ages,
indicative of dignity and strength, as its sister
temple of softness and beauty, like two perfect
types of male and feminine creation. The
marbles of the Parthenon have assumed, by
time, a colouring so rich that they look “as if
quarried, not from the bed of a rocky mountain,
but from the golden hues of an Athenian sun-

H

set. Tearing ourselves away at length from

the Acropolis, we visited the adjacent Pnyx,

Al/zem, “ 7726 V z'oZeZ-Crowma’ ” '67

where the Greek orators delivered their famous
speeches, and we also viewed the Areopagus,
or ancient Greek court of justice, made even
more interesting from the probability that St
Paul preached there. Going onward to the
great temple of Jupiter Olympus, we literally
stepped over the classic Elissus, a rivulet two
feet wide! A dozen lofty Corinthian columns
alone remain to remind us of what the
Olympeion once was, of that glorious building
where so many toiled from the days of Pisis-
tratus to the Roman Hadrian, where stood
the cryselephantine statue of Zeus, and the
praises of which have been uttered by Aristotle.
We devoted some wet days to a careful in-
vestigation of the National Museum and the
Polytechnic Institute, and anyone with even a
tincture of classical taste will find them prob-
ably the most interesting antiquarian collec-
tions in the world, as within these walls are a
very large amount of the finds that are being
daily made throughout Greece. The National
Museum chiefly contains statues and funeral

68 Glimpses of Smmy Lands

monuments; the finest among the latter being
probably the coloured tomb of Aristion——a
warrior in armour bearing a lance. The Poly-
technic, built of choice marble, is of much
architectural beauty. It comprises three col-
lections—the Egyptian, the Mycenian, and
the Archaeological Society’s. The Egyptian
collection, though fine, is by no means com-
parable to that of the Louvre, Gizeh, or
Turin. In the Archaeological Museum, we
were attracted by the charmingly-depicted
designs on so many of the ancient vases;
notably, some of Theseus, and the Minotaur,
and the Sirens. There are a great number
of cases of these vases, and they well repay
careful study. We saw numerous terra cotta
figures, and many of the well-known ones
from Tanagra, the exact use of which has
given rise to so many conjectures. Professor
Mahaffy rather inclines to the belief that they
were children’s toys. A o'fkéyyl; or scraper to
remove the oil used by athletes in wrestling

also caught our attention.

At/zem, “ Tke V z'olef-Crowné ” 69

We now turn to the Mycenian collection—
the grandest of all. Following the statement
of Pausanias, that Agamemnon and his com-
panions were buried within Mycenae, after
their murder by Aegisthus, Dr Schliemann
undertook excavations, which were continued
later by the Archaeological Society, and the
results are seen in this Museum. The articles
found are, of themselves, of real beauty, even
apart from their antiquarian interest, but how
much more precious they seem when we reflect
that they have lain hidden away under the for-
saken city for over two thousand years, beside
the mouldering remains of the great heroes of
whom Homer sung! We certainly would not
disbelieve, if we could, the beautiful idea, that
these were the very remains of the “ King of
Men,” and so disregard the statement of his
burial at Argos, by Aeschylus, and believe in
the Greek “Bible,” though “believing where
we cannot prove.” Homer applies the epithet,
“gold—abounding,” to Mycenae, the truth of
which at once struck us on looking at those

7o Glimpses of Smmy Lama’s

ornaments, the majority being of the precious
metal. The tombs are shown here in glass
cases exactly as they were discovered,’ and
beside the skeletons lie the objects buried with
them—goblets, buttons, and shovels, all gold,
metal swords and knives, alabaster vessels,
ostrich eggs, and Egyptian vases.

Many were the delightful strolls that we
enjoyed in and around Athens, now wander-
ing through the leafy alleys of the Palace
Gardens, now in the groves of Academe where
Plato taught, again Viewing the old sculptured
tombs of Hellenic heroes; straying where
“meek Cephisus sheds his scanty tide,” anon
gazing on the marble-famed Pentelikon and on
the slopes of the honeyed Hymettus. We sit
another time in the marble chairs of the
Theatre of Dionysus—in those chairs where
the Grecian priests listened entranced to the
woes -“ of Thebes and Pelops line,” or shock
with laughter at the hits of Aristophanes.

’Tis moonlight, and our last night in Athens ;
following our impulse we ascend the Acropolis

 

 

 

 

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At/zem, “ 772a V zb/ef— C roamed ” 7 I

and look seaward, where in the busy Peiraeus
lies the vessel that in the grey dawn is to bear
us to Byzantium. We stand where Aegeus
watched for his son’s return from the expedi-
tion against the Minotaur—watched for the
glancing white sail, the herald of victory—
watched in vain. We looked, as he looked
in the days when earth was young, towards
“the laughing tides that lave, These Edens of
the Western wave,” and our brain reels with
the magic of the sight. Here shine the Bay
of Phaleron, here “the gulf, the rock of Sala-
mis,” further lies the Bay of Eleusis, whose
waters washed the very stones where the
Eleusiniana were held——mysteries that time
may ne’er unroll. Afar what mighty crag
is that? ’Tis Acro-Corinthus, “a Fortress
formed for Freedom’s hands ”—there flashes
the Saronic gulf, and “old Aegina’s rock and
Hydra’s Isle ” gleam ghostlike in the moonlight.
Much of Greece may disappoint, but, gazing on
this gorgeous scene we feel with Byron :

“ Art, glory, freedom fails, but Nature still is fair.”

IN INNER GREECE

WE had spent ten days in Athens, had seen
the Acropolis in the grey light of morning, and
under the warm flush of a Grecian sunset, had
“stood on the Persian’s grave” at Marathon,
and scaled the brow of Hymettus. So, “sigh-
ing for new worlds to conquer,” we determined
to push forward into the interior of Greece,
and the Peloponnesus. As there were some
ladies in our party, we engaged a courier who
undertook to pay all fares and other expenses
on receipt of forty—five francs a day from each
person. He supplied beds, which could be put
up in the peasants’ houses, in the smaller
villages, and where hotel accommodation was
available we were entitled to the best.
“ Melas” was our courier’s name; he was
Greek and could talk French fairly, and though

we can acquit him of any but the most super-
72

[iz Imzer Greece 73

ficial insight into Greek History or Archae-
ology, he was an honest and civil guide. We
had rather a rainy morning for our start, and
so drove down to the Peiraeus in a closed
carriage, and were soon on board the steamer
for Nauplia. We were the only foreigners,
and the Greek passengers, though picturesque-
looking at a distance, were not agreeable at
close quarters. The Captain very politely
invited us to share his deck, and had us
supplied with chairs, and thus we were enabled
to give ourselves up undisturbedly to the
contemplation of the historic scenes through
which we passed. On our right we saw the
“Gulf, the rock of Salamis,” and Aegina with
its famous temple of Athene, whilst on our left,
in the distance, gleamed “Sunion’s marbled
steep.” After about four hours we reached
the pretty isle of Poros, formerly the chief
naval station of Greece. In the interior is the
site of an old temple where Demosthenes
poisoned himself in RC. 322. Further on

we came on “H dra’s Isle” whence come the
Y ,

74 Glzbnpses of Snnny Lands

best Greek sailors. The inhabitants fought
most bravely in the War of Independence.
Soon we entered the Bay of Argolis, and
steamed by inlet and islet till at length in the
evening light we saw the pretty town of
N auplia, rising from a promontory, and domi-
nated by the rocky fortress of Palamidi. Our
favourable first impressions were more than
realised on landing. We found the place well
built, and clean—the latter quality as rare as
it is desirable in Greece. We put up at a
hotel beside the harbour, and had very fair
accommodation and an agreeable landlord.
The present population comes mostly from the
various Greek islands, and seems very go-
ahead. The possession of Nauplia alternated
between the Venetians and the Turks for
many years, till, in 1822, the Greeks surprised
and captured the almost impregnable Palamidi.
The ascent of this fortress is the only sight
in the immediate vicinity; accordingly, after
climbing some eight hundred steps, we found
ourselves on the summit, saw that Palamidi is

In [mzer Greece 75

now used as a prison, and had fine glimpses
of Mycenae and Cyclopean Tiryns, and
Argos, with its ample plains. We had an
early start next morning, having a long day’s
sight-seeing before us. Luckily the weather
was everything that could be desired, and
April in Greece, when fine, is perfection.
After bidding adieu to our agreeable landlord,
our carriage drove off at a good pace for‘the
ruins of Tiryns, which we reached in half an
hour. The real feature of interest there is
in the Cyclopean walls alluded to by Homer.
They are made of enormous blocks of stone
eight to ten feet long, connected by smaller
stones. The walls are, generally speaking,
twenty feet thick, and in parts nearly double,
as they contain vaults and chambers. The
inside of these apartments is worn smooth
by sheep that have sheltered there for ages.
We also saw the foundations of a palace,
discovered by Drs Dorpfeld and Schliemann
in 1884, and supposed to be of the Homeric
period. They were somewhat unsatisfactory,

76 Glimpses qf Sunny Lands

from the difficulty of making out the different
parts with much certainty; however, we saw
a marble slab, on which was evidently a
bath, for we noticed the grooves to allow the
water to run "off. We could also discern
the plan of two large apartments—one for
women. Tiryns is the supposed birth-place
of Hercules. We proceeded on our journey
to Argos, across that famous plain, called i/ze
plain by the Greeks (agyég), but now~a—days
desolated by malaria. In the modern town
of Argos there is absolutely nothing to see
beyond the remains of an old theatre and
the view from the Acropolis of Larissa. Still
there is much scope for retrospection, for this
was the sacred city of Hera, here lived the
famous Pheidon, conqueror of the Spartans,
here grew up a school of Art that had Poly—
kleitos as its head, and which was named in
the same breath as that of the Athenian
Phidias. The crowning feature of the day’s
excursion was at hand, for now we started

for Mycenae, and certainly we will admit a

I n Inner Greece 77

much greater interest in this town than in
either Tiryns or Argos. We soon obtained
a good View of Mount Hagios Elias, beneath
which Mycenae lies. A good deal of atten-
tion has been given to the city lately, even
by the non-classical, on account of the mag-
nificent collection of gold and other orna-
ments found in 1876 by Dr Schliemann. Our
guide told us that he himself was present on
the day when some of the gold masks and
goblets were unearthed. Two of the most
noticeable objects at Mycenae are, the
“Treasury of Atreus,” and “Mrs Schliemann’s
Treasury,” so called because that lady had
it excavated in 1876. The former is built in
the shape of a bee-hive, and, on entering, we
found that it consisted of one large room,
about fifty feet high—which was once lined
with metal plates—and a smaller room behind
it. Mrs Schliemann’s Treasury was very
similar, only in not so good a state of pre-
servation, much of it having fallen. Both of
these structures are probably tombs, for the

78 Glimpses of Sunny Lands

inhabitants of Mycenae were celebrated for
the gorgeous way in which they interred their
dead. We next turned our steps to the world-
renowned “Gate of the Lions,” which is about
ten feet high and the same wide. Above the
doorway is one great block of stone sixteen feet
by eight. The relief is of two lions standing up-
right with their fore-paws resting on a column.
The heads are unfortunately lost. They were
separate pieces, and are variously conjectured
to have been made of metal, ivory, etc. This
piece of sculpture, the oldest probably in
Europe that has come down to us, is cele-
brated in the history of Art—the lions being
considered so life—like and so artistic for that
period. We next came to the half-dozen rocky
tombs, discovered, with one exception, by Dr
Schliemann, who found the bones of eighteen
persons in them, and also the magnificent
treasure of gold, already alluded to, which is
now in the Polytechnic Institute at Athens.
There is probably no place in Greece, except
Thebes and Athens, that has a more storied

[72 Inner Greece 79

past. It is the city of the legends of Atreus,
and the city whence Agamemnon led his
troops to conquer the world-renowned Troy,
only to die on his return at the hands of his
wife’s paramour, Aegisthus. Here was. the
avenging Orestes. Enviable, indeed, was the
fortune of Mycenae as it was sung of by
Homer and by Aeschylus. We found numer-
ous flowers around the ruins, and our guide
told us that the daisy was called ayu’my, or the
“flower of love.” Some little Greek boys
asked for “backsheesh,” a word derived from
the time of the Turkish occupation. We
now continued on our journey from Mycenae,
and soon after the approach of darkness saw
the distant lights of Corinth with very pleasur—
able feelings. We stopped at a private house,
and after the formalities of an introduction to
our host, who possessed a slight stock of
French, we discussed the dinner provided us
——which had lamb as a pz'e‘ee de eresz'sz‘cmee.
Following the unpleasant custom in Greece
the wine was impregnated with resin, the

8o Glimpses of Sunny Lama’s

natives liking the taste of it and considering
it a fine stomachic; for the Western palate,
however, it is too medicinal to be agreeable.
We observed at dinner that our host’s wife
and one of his daughters waited on us, and
were ordered around by him with scant cere—
mony. This Oriental treatment of women
prevails generally in Greece, and was probably
accentuated in Turkish times. Shortly after
dinner our host proposed a stroll through the
town, a proposition gladly accepted. Modern
Corinth is quite distinct from the ancient one,
which lies about three miles away, at the foot
of Acro-Corinthus. It is an ordinary little
Greek town, with a population of about three
thousand. We were introduced to some
friends of our 'host, and treated to coffee and
loukoumi. The coffee was (2 [a 72577256, as
it is generally termed in Greece, the loukoumi
is a sweet like our “Turkish Delight.” One
of our acquaintances wore the fustanella, the
so—called national dress of Greece, and later
on we asked our host what he thought of it.

[12 Inner Greece 81

In as polite a way as possible we gave him
our own opinion, that the white, stiff kilt
seemed too much like a ballet-dancer’s to
be very heroic—looking. While agreeing with
us that this costume was really Albanian, he
said it was much esteemed in Greece, out-
side of Athens, where European styles were
more the mode. We sat long, enjoying the
delightful cool of the evening, with some
excellent Samian Wine before us, whilst laugh-
ing children kept running down the street
urging the goats home from pasturage. The
whole scene recalled the lovely verse of
Sappho——

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A very short stroll sufficed us after the fatigues
of our day, and we were soon oblivious to
all classical, save Morpheus. The morning ‘
being rather rainy, we drove over to the
site of Ancient Corinth, which has nothing of
interest save a few columns of an old temple.

F

82 Glz'mflses of Sunny Lands

We were now at the foot of Acro-Corinthus—
the view from which is one of the essential
sights of a tour in Greece. After a tiresome
climb we reached the summit, and were fully
rewarded for our trouble. Stretched out at
our feet was the Gulf of Corinth, the Isthmus
with the Canal, clearly discernible, the Moun-
tains of Argolis, snowy Parnassus, and afar in
the dim distance Aegina, and the Athenian
Acropolis. On approaching new Corinth we ‘
bought from some boys a pretty ancient glass
vase and a small lamp. The antiquities sold
in -Greece are usually genuine, which is more
than can be said of those of other countries
——notably Egypt. Next morning we took train
for Patras. Our route lay beside the blue»
waters of the Gulf of Corinth, affording lovely
views of the opposite shore, with the moun-
tains of Megara, of Helicon, and Parnassus,
dear to the Muses, whilst on our left soared
misty Kellene. We passed vineyards and
currant plantations continually—Corinth being

the home of the currant—the very word, in

In [mzer Greece _ 83

fact, being derived from it. We crossed
several rocky river-beds, now almost dried
up, but which in winter are foaming torrents.
There are numerous cypress—trees along the
way, very typical of the Turkish occupation,
and soon we reached Vostitza, noted for its
fine harbour and its devotion to the currant-
trade.« The patch of land between the moun-
tains and the Gulf narrowed, and the railway
traversed deep cuttings and bridges of giddy
height. Some more torrent—beds, some more
currant—fields, and we are at Patras. In
the evening we wandered down by the sea
and looked over the blue wave, Where afar,
hid by many a league and by the mists, lay
Missolonghi, amidst Whose pestilential swamps
England’s mighty poet breathed forth his soul
for Greece :—

ATHENE TO BYRON.

Thou fell’st not in the battle’s might,
Where clashing sabres ring,

Thou fell’st not by Lepanto’s height,
Hellene’s crownéd king.

84 Glz'mpses of Sunny Lama’s

Yet brain and arm, oh, noble-souled!
Thou gavest all to me,

And fused thy very heart of gold

To set my Hellas free.

Thy Muse, in youth’s Titanic power,
Shed glory on this shore,

Here, thou yield’st life’s meridian hour:
What could’st thou more?

We examined the harbour, saw several
vessels depart laden with currants, and visited
the principal streets. There are some fine
buildings, notably the church of St Andrew,
patron of the town, the Law Courts, and the
Theatre. We were amused at seeing the
people moving homewards, each with a live
lamb on his shoulder, and did not know
what to make of it till we were told that
this day was the Greek Good Friday, and
that these were the Paschal lambs brought
home for slaughter. At luncheon we were
very fortunate, for the Demarch, hearing that
we did not like resinated wine, very kindly
sent us some bottles uncontaminated by this
Grecian adjunct. Having determined on see-

[n [meer Greece 85

ing Olympia, we took train to Pyrgos, which
is distant about fifty miles, and is merely a
halting-place. Shortly before getting there
we had a fine View of the island of Zante,
lying so near us that we could see the heights
of Mount Skopas, and the houses glisten-
ing in the sun. We were the only strangers
that day at Pyrgos, and had the little hotel
entirely to ourselves. They gave us a com-
fortable dinner, but decidedly lamb is as uni-
versal in Greece as reindeer in Norway, or
as omelette and beefsteak in Italy, and the
traveller is often tempted to cry, “hold!
enough!” The walls of our dining-room
were cracked by one of the earthquakes
which are so frequent here. Next morning
we drove over the dozen miles that separated
us from Olympia, now traversed by a railway.
We had very pretty scenery en mule. It is
impossible to estimate too highly the great
influence of Olympia on Ancient Greece. As
its games were open to all who could prove
their Hellenic descent, it formed one of the

86 Glimpses of Smmy Lama’s

bonds of union between the States by bring-
ing so many representatives of them together.
The very calendar of the Greeks was reckoned
by Olympiads, or numbers of times the games
had taken place since their commencement
in BC. 776. They happened every four years.
Again, the length of the Stadion, or race-
course, 630 feet, became a standard Greek
measure. We owe some of the sublimest
strains of Pindar to those games—those grand
Epinikian odes in which he made the victorious
athletes immortal. Finally, the cause of art
was much benefitted by them, each winner
having the right of erecting a statue within
the “Altis,” or sacred enclosure, thus a great
stimulus was given to sculpture, which found
its culmination in the Hermes of Praxiteles.
The ruins of Olympia are numerous, but ex-
ceedingly fragmentary; in fact, there is not a
single one left in even an approximate state
of perfection. They afford us hints of what
grand edifices once stood here, and that is all.
We have a full description of many of them in

In Inner Greece 87

the Itinerary of Pausanias, which is for Greece
what the Bible is for Palestine—a splendid
guide. Alas! earthquakes overthrew many of
those buildings—the renowned Temple of Zeus
amongst others—then a landslip from Mount
Kronion aided in the work of destruction,
inundations from the Kladeos completed it, and
buried the whole of Olympia under twenty feet
of sand. Beneath this shroud it lay twelve
centuries, till fragments of its skeleton were
brought to light by the cultured and classic-
loving Germans, to whom Philhellenists owe
a profound debt of gratitude. The best
general idea of the ruins is obtained from
Kronion, a hill about four hundred feet high.
Thence also can be seen the Alpheios and
the Kladeos, the celebrated rivers of Olympia,
so often alluded to in the Classics. Descend-
ing, we first examined the Temple of Zeus, of
which a few columns and broken capitals now
alone remain. It was famous as containing
the cryselephantine statue of Zeus by Phidias,
and we were shown some of the fragments

88 G/zbnpses of Sunny Lands

of the pedestal. We next turned to the
Heraeon, the oldest temple in Olympia, and
noticed how the stone columns were of dif-
ferent sizes, they were put in from time to
time to replace the wooden, as these latter
decayed. We also saw the base of the
Hermes of Praxiteles, now in the Museum.
Wandering on further, we came to the Stadion,
where the Olympic races took place, and the
walls that marked the starting point, and the
goal. The ruins of the Treasuries are frag—
mentary. They were used as receptacles for
the weapons employed in the games. There
were numerous bases of statues—those of the
Zanes amongst others. The Zanes were
bronze statues of Zeus which those persons
violating the Olympic rules were obliged to
put up as penalty. The handsome Museum
contains a fine collection of bronzes, terra
cottas, and many statues, in a poor state
of preservation, with the striking exception
of the marvellous Hermes of Praxiteles, which
is one of the finest pieces of classic art.

In Imzer Greece 89

The pediment-sculptures of the Temple of
Zeus are also here, and are veritable gems.
The Fight of the Lapithae and Centaurs is
probably finest. We must not omit to men-
tion the Metopes, representing the labours of
Hercules. Well satisfied with our visit to
Olympia, we now returned by the same route
as we had come to Patras, and on the evening
of our arrival took steamer for Itea, the port
for Delphi, on the Gulf of Corinth. The
vessel was not to leave till the small hours,
so we retired to our cabins, and when we
awoke, about six in the morning, we were at
Itea. Being only a tiny village, and of no
interest whatsoever, we made no delay there,
but mounted the mules that were provided us,
and after traversing some fine scenery, arrived
in about two hours at Delphi. Our riding
gear was certainly primitive, the stirrups being
of ropes and the saddles wooden, in shape
quite like an arm-chair, but with plenty of
rugs they were endurable. The site, even of

the famous Oracle, is now only a matter of

90 Glimpses of Sunny Lama’s

strong probability. It is under the shadow of
the cliffs of the Phedriadae. A wall, evidently
part of a temple, covered with a number of
Greek inscriptions, is considered to be all that
remains of “Delphi’s long deserted shrine.”
Fragments of pillars are strewn around, and
there are some remains of an old theatre. We
were also shown the “Gate to Hades,” and
“ Castalie’s clear fount,” where all had to purify
themselves before invoking the Oracle—just as
Musselmen have to do before entering the
Mosque. In a hollow was visible the Stadion,
where the races of the Pythian festival were
held every fourth year. Having now seen
the principal points at Delphi, we advanced
towards our night quarters at Aracova, skirting
the foaming Pleistos and Parnassus, the home
of the Muses. There was a fe‘z‘e going on at
Aracova on our arrival. All the population of
this pretty little town was out dancing on the
green. The women, who are the handsomest
in Greece, formed quite a picture in their
striking costumes, which consisted of white

 

 

 

'J‘III". 'I‘l-ZMI’LIC ()l“ AI'UI‘I‘U A\'I‘ IHCIJ’HI

 

[72 Inner Greece 9 I

frocks, with crimson aprons embroidered in
yellow. The married women had black veils,
the maidens white ones. The men wore
blue jackets with the fustanella, and also
the fez and Turkish slippers. The daughters
of the peasants in whose house we lodged
showed us all their finery before locking it
away for another festival. Next morning we
took mules for Livadia. The day was lovely,
and as we skirted the base of Parnassus,
soaring proudly eight thousand feet into the
air, the contrast between his snowy crown and
the intense blue of the sky was remarkably
striking. Soon we passed Triodos, where the
hand of fate first descended on the hapless
Oedipus, for here it was that unknowingly
he slew his father, Laios. Further on we-
observed several enormous lizards about two
feet long, besides numerous cranes. No true
lover of Greece can behold Chaeronea without
a pang—Chaeronea, “Fatal to Liberty,” where
the Hellenic power fell beneath Macedonian
Philip, and where once stood Alexander and

92 Glimpses of Sunny Lama/s

Demosthenes. We saw the fragments of the
famous lion, that mark the resting-place of
the Thebans, whose “ Sacred Band” was here
annihilated. The lion was intact till 1820,
when it was blown to pieces to search for an
imaginary treasure. A short distance further
on lay an immense jar, recently discovered,
which was probably used for oil or wine.
Early in the evening we entered Livadia, one
of the most picturesque towns in Greece.
Immediately above it is Mount Granitsa,
with Helicon and Parnassus adjacent, whilst
through it raves and foams the mountain-
torrent Herkyna. There are several mills
and spinning factories here, and a general
air of cleanliness and well-being. Near to
Livadia was the Oracle of Trophonius, of which
the exact site is now unknown. Before con—
sulting this Oracle, one had to drink the springs
of Lethe and Mnemosyne to forget the past
and remember the exact words of the response.
Two springs are pointed out as corresponding
to them, but as there are several springs in the

 

AX ~\RA\( IIH\A\ MAIDEN

 

[72 Inner Greece 93

vicinity, it is impossible to know which are the
real ones. Next morning we were up betimes,
having to start at 6. 30 in order to arrive at
Athens the same day. We performed this
very tiresome trip in carriage after seventeen
hours. It would have been better to have
broken the journey at Thebes. We skirted
the extensive and shallow Lake Kopai‘s, which
both the ancients and the moderns have tried
to drain, both for sanitary reasons and because
the soil is so fertile, that if reclaimed, it would
bring in a large amount to the State. We
arrived late at the site of Ancient Thebes.

The Eve, one full red rose, was blushing
On the fringe of the violet skies,

When the drear Theban plain, like some moon-land,
First appeared to my awe-stricken eyes,
Reality’s ice—clinging mantle

Round my burning illusions was cast,

For the strong hand of Zeus had not rescued
E’en a pillar or shrine from the past.

But the Dircean stream, still defiant,

Foams onward, and babbles, and flings

Its wild plaintive song on the silence

That now reigns o’er the palace of Kings.

94 Glimpses of Snnny Lands

Oh for the lyre of Amphion,

To rear up the long-crumbled wall,

And back to its youth-brimming splendour
The “beloved of Pindar” to call.

Ah I Sphinx, canst thou read me the riddle,
Why the days of thy 'glory are fled,

And low in the dust of the ages

Thou hid’st thy undiademed head.

On account of the many earthquakes, the
remains now visible consist only of a few
miserable fragments of walls and aqueducts,
and in this respect it is the most disappointing
city in Greece. The modern little village of
Thebes is built on Kadmeia, the ancient
Acropolis. The Dircean stream is fed by
numerous springs which gush forth in the
vicinity, and is of quite respectable dimen-
sions. Thebes is rich in legend and in
history. It was the city of the “Seven
Gates,” of the Sphinx, and of Oedipus, whose
gruesome story Sophocles brings so home to
us in his tremendous trilogy. Its walls rose
to the music of Amphion, and here was the
house of Pindar, which alone was spared

[72 Inner Greece 95

“when temple and tower went to the ground.”
We supped very poorly at a restaurant in the
village. Decidedly, for the gourmet, the in-
terior of Greece is not the most inviting,
and he will encounter the “black broth of
the Spartan " much .oftener than the savoury
meme of the Sybarite. After leaving 'Thebes,
we saw countless snakes—many of them
poisonous. A part of our way we passed
near Kithaeron, the base of which is well
wooded, and is full of game, besides being
infested with wolves. The night drew on,
our journey was far from finished, and, weary
with the long day’s drive, we sunk into a
broken sleep, from which we were continually
roused by the jolting, till at length, after mid—
night, we saw numerous lights flicker through
the darkness—our journey was over—we were
at Athens.

TAHOE, THE GEM OF CALI—
FORNIAN LAKES

CALIFORNIA has more than its share of the great
wonders of Nature for which the continent of
America is celebrated. On its golden shores
are the mammoth trees, big enough for a large
stage—coach to pass through; the Yosemite
Valley, with its three thousand feet of perpen-
dicular rock, and its waterfalls, the highest in
the world ; lastly, beautiful Lake Tahoe, whose
waters are of such transparency that a trout
can be seen fifty feet beneath the surface. It
is of this lake that we now propose to treat.
Tahoe, though well known to the Californian,
is not so familiar to the foreigner as it deserves
to be. The most important point to consider
for the excursion is the season of the year.
The tourist who intends staying a few days,

and seeing all the sights, should not gothere
96

Ta/zoe, #26 Gem of Californian Lakes 97

till the middle of July or, better still, August.
Before that time the snows are so thick on
Mount Tallac, that the ascent is in the highest
degree difficult, if not impossible; and the View
from this mountain is so fine—~embracing as it
does sixteen lakes—that one would regret losing
it. If, however, a prolonged stay is meditated,
any time from the end of May is pleasant ; for,
excepting Mount Tallac, nearly all the sights
are as available then as later on, and the water-
falls are seen to better advantage.

Leaving San Francisco at five o’clock in the
afternoon, the Central Pacific brings us at five
next morning to Truckee, and hence a stage-
coach takes us fourteen miles to Tahoe City
on the lake. It is preferable to come by this
afternoon train, thus avoiding the great heat of
the Sacramento Valley, and rather monotonous
scenery. On our arrival at Truckee, finding
that we had an hour and a half before the
departure of the stage, we took breakfast, and
had a stroll through the town; but as it only
consists of houses of one storey, all little shops

G

98 Glimpses of Sunny Lands

or taverns, we were not much interested.
Shortly after a coach with six horses started
off at a good round pace for Tahoe. Our
route lay by the Truckee River, which foams
and dashes through a charming valley, rocky
hills several hundred feet high rising on either
side.

Soon we saw the blue waters of the lake
nestling amid the Sierras, and drew up beside
some dozen houses dignified by the name of
Tahoe City. A pretty little steamer now
started for Tallac, and we were at once struck
with the marvellous transparency of the water,
which makes the lake renowned, and we
thought of the eulogies that Mark Twain
bestows upon this peculiarity. One could read
a name fifty feet beneath the water. Tahoe is
twenty-two miles long by twelve wide, and
has an average depth of six hundred feet,
Whilst off the cliffs, near Tallac, a much greater
depth is found. After a considerable run we
turned aside into Emerald Bay, an offshoot of
Tahoe. It is difficult to praise the scenery

Ta/zoe, t/ze Gem of Californian Lakes 99

here too highly—so beautiful are the mountains
around it, so luxuriant the wooding, and so
perfectly lovely the green shading of the water,
making a striking contrast with the blue of
Tahoe. In this bay there is a rocky islet,
which has quite a pathetic little history. An
old pioneer, who had spent many years in the
neighbourhood and become very attached to
the lake, over which he sailed in all weathers,
determined to make his grave on the islet, that
in death he might repose amidst the scenes he
had so loved. Full of this idea, he hewed a
grave, but one stormy evening he perished in
the lake and his body was never found. The
traveller is shown the cenotaph. It is a
peculiarity of Tahoe that the bodies of the
drowned are scarcely ever recovered, the most
probable explanation being that there exists
a subterranean passage into which they are
drifted. This is especially likely, as in such
a large body of water there is no known out-
let.

After leaving Emerald Bay we obtained a

IOO Glz'mfises of Sim”)! Lands

fine View of Mount Tallac (9600 feet), at the
base of which was our destination. Though
this mountain is exceeded in altitude by Mount
Freal, still in configuration, beauty, and by
his snowy diadem, Tallac is monarch. The
Tallac hotel is the only one in the district,
and it, as well as a large tract of pine-woods, is
owned by “Lucky” Baldwin, who is likewise
proprietor of the hostelry named after him in
San Francisco. The hotel is excellent, and
there are nine cottages for people making a
long stay and desiring home comforts. We
arrived about one o’clock in the afternoon, and
after luncheon, took a walk on the excellent
carriage~road to Fallen-leaf Lake, which is two
miles distant. Our route lay through some
magnificent pine-trees, large enough to astonish
one, if not already blase’ by seeing the Cali-
fornian mammoths. This lake, encircled by
pine-woods, and situated at the base of Mount
Tallac, is shaped like a leaf—hence its name——
is three miles long, and abounds in trout. Its

remarkably pure water supplies our hotel.

 

 

11A Kl“. 'l‘.\Il()I-I

 

Taéoe, #16 Gem of Californian Lakes 101

The evening we devoted to the Indian camp,
only a short distance from the Tallac house.
The moon was rising above the pines, and the
dusky Indian figures grouped around the blaz-
ing camp fires formed a picture long destined
“to hang on memory’s wall.” We had hoped
to purchase some baskets, moccasins, or other
curios, but found the Indians distrustful and
sullen. We learned that the “Whites” had
forbidden them to spear trout in future, and
hence their unfriendliness. A chief had been
beating his wife, and the forest had wrung with
her screams till our arrival broke up the little
scene of domestic felicity! We saw thirty
Indians in all; half of them were women and
children. The men were much better-looking
than their squaws. .

Next morning at eight o’clock we started on
horseback to see the mountain-lakes, accom-
panied by a guide, who is essential on this
excursion, it being very easy to lose one’s way
amid the forests. At first we rode through pine-
woods, but soon had to traverse marshes caused

102 Glz'mfses of Sunny Lands

by the overflow from Tahoe. We noticed that
the bark was stripped off many of the trees
owing to the porcupines which abound here.
Soon we arrived at the shores of Cascade Lake,
so called because Snow-cloud Fall precipitates
itself into it. The lake is extensive, and in
colour and other characteristics resembles its
neighbour Tahoe.

We continued our route, passing by the
small but pretty Mirror and Deer lakes, finally
arriving at Floating-island lake. The name
arises from the presence of a small patch of
land, about four yards long, which floats on the
surface. On this islet was once a single tree
which some vandal has cut down. The lake
contains numerous water-snakes, one of which
our guide killed with repeated blows of his
whip. As the snake’s body continued to
wriggle, the guide said it would not die until
the sun went down; and though we tried to
show him the absurdity of this vulgar super—
stition, we fear he remained unconverted.

We were now on the side of Mount Tallac,

Taéoe, t/ze Gem of Californian Lakes 103

six thousand five hundred feet above sea-
level, enjoying splendid views of Tahoe and
Fallen~leaf Lake, and seeing quantities of
the red snow-plant. Our horses now began
to sink so deep that we had to make
numerous detours to get along, and at last
our guide refused to go any higher, declaring
it unsafe. The snow here was in patches
quite thirty feet in depth. We returned
to our hotel after a ride of about twenty-
five miles, regretting that we had not seen
the sixteen lakes from Tallac summit, but
in a measure consoled by this beautiful
excursion. In the evening we took a boat,
and went trolling for trout, for which Tahoe
is famed. Each boat has a fish-tank, and
the rower takes one to the best spots for
making a catch. The average-sized Tahoe
trout weighs from one and a half to three
pounds, but they are frequently much larger.
The heaviest ever taken was stated to have
been over twenty-nine pounds, and was sent to
the then President of the United States.

104 Glz'mpses of Sunny Lands

Next day we made another excursion on
horseback, this time to Glen Alpine, a very
picturesque district in the heart ‘of the moun—
tains. At first we rode by our old acquaint-
ance, Fallen-leaf Lake, and then through a
long rocky valley traversed by a mountain-
stream which descended in several fine
waterfalls en route, and skimming through
the spray we saw numerous kingfishers.
From its wildness and the grandeur of its
scenery Glen Alpine is a favourite place for
spending a few days, especially for sportsmen,
who can shoot any quantity of badgers, besides
deer, and an occasional bear. There is a
small and rather primitive-looking hotel,
which is reported, however, to be sufficiently
comfortable. When we saw it in the month
of July, the surrounding district was one
veritable swamp, but it was being drained
to be ready for the August season, when a
stage runs between here and Tallac. Close
to the hotel is a fine soda spring, strongly
impregnated with iron, and very beneficial

,7 .,~_.___.. __,...,.1-,.- A4. “0.1 w, a. I ,- - «mt: —-' - ‘

Takoe, Me Gem of Ca/zform'cm Lakes 105

for invalids. Leaving Glen Alpine we went
about two miles up the mountains, when we
lost the path in the snow, and our guide
could not strike it again. The creek, beside
which we rode, was spanned by several
natural bridges of snow, caused by the melting
of the portion near the water, and here and
there were other curious snow formations, one
being the exact shape of a gigantic tortoise.
After reaching Pyramid Point, a very striking
and picturesque mountain summit, so deep
grew the snow that our horses got frightened,
and soon further advance became impossible.
On the homeward journey one of the party
shot four badgers; the Indian cherishes them
for their meat, and the white man for their
skins.

We had now seen the principal sights, and
after our delightful stay at Tallac, took the
steamer for Tahoe City, returning by the
Nevada side of the lake. Though fine in
parts, on the whole the scenery is rather

monotonous, arising from the sameness of this

106 G/z'nzpses of Sunny Lands

portion of the Sierra Nevada. Glenbrooke
is a very pretty station, and it is preferable
to leave the steamer here and return to San
Francisco vz'ai Carson City, thus seeing the
Comstock and other great Nevada mines,
which made so many millionaires. The tourist
to California cannot fail to bring away many

delightful memories, and not the least pleasing
will be Tahoe.

THE YOSEMITE—CALI FORNIA’S
WONDER

THE Yosemite is the wonder not alone of
California, but of the world. Ralph Waldo
Emerson does not speak too strongly when he
says: “It is the only place I ever found
that came up to the brag.” As well then
pass through Italy without seeing Rome as
through California without spending at least
a few days in this marvellous valley. Situated
in the heart of the Sierra Nevada mountains,
it is seven miles in length by a mile in
average width, and—noticeable feature—its
walls, which are from three to five thousand
feet high, are almost perpendicular, and from
the summits magnificent waterfalls precipitate
themselves. Picture to yourself, moreover,
this valley traversed by a beautiful river—the
Merced—now hurrying in rapids over a rocky

1:07

108 Glimpses of Sunny Lands

bed, now stealing softly along under the
shadow of manzanita and cedar, and you
have some faint conception of the Yosemite.
It is a remarkable circumstance that it has
been discovered only about half a century,
on the occasion of an expedition against the
Indians, a friendly tribe of Whom pointed it
out to the “Whites.”

Leaving San Francisco at five o’clock P.M.,
the morning finds us at Raymond, and after
breakfast a stage-coach takes us to Wawona,
our night quarters. The day’s route is stupid
in the extreme, the scenery being absolutely
ml, and, as in California the summer is
almost rainless, the dust is often tremendous.
Wawona, with its glancing river and verdant’
foliage, reposes the eye, wearied of an arid
landscape. We leave next morning at 6.30,
and the coach arrives at Yosemite at one
o’clock, in time for luncheon. The views
quite compensate for yesterday’s barrenness.
We speed along by the side of a magnificent
valley, amidst forests of pine and spruce that

,,'..i’ —I 3“,...1 angry 4.1.43 “1.1..2—5 1'" new (.3, A“ __

T/ze Yosemite—California’s Wonder 109

seem never-ending, save where bare mountain
peaks rise thousands of feet above the green
sea of foliage. Every few moments murmur-
ing rivulets or roaring torrents fling themselves
across the road only to be engulfed in the
grand abyss below.

Soon we reach Inspiration Point, and the
Yosemite lies at our feet—a View unique on
earth. We drive through a portion of the
valley before reaching our hotel, but it is
more convenient to deal with its sights on
the “Grand Drive.” The Stoneman House
and the Yosemite Falls are the two hotels.
We stopped at the former, which we found
comfortable, and heard on good authority that
the other is also excellent. Hurried travellers
start immediately to “do ” the Valley Drive,
but after the long stage journey from Wawona,
a stroll affords a- desirable change of loco-
motion; accordingly, we walked over to get
a nearer view of Yosemite Fall, it being the
most noticeable object from our hotel balcony.
The path was by the side of the Merced

IIO Glimpses of Sunny Lands

river, and we admired the beautiful wild
azaleas, which filled the air with their delicious
fragrance. The Yosemite Fall is generally
considered the finest in the world. It comes
down in three bounds of one thousand six
hundred, four hundred, and six hundred feet,
making a total of two thousand six hundred.
When we consider that the highest falls in
Europe are dwarfed by the first wild leap of
the Yosemite, we can form a tolerable idea
of its immensity. For a considerable distance
before reaching it we were deluged with
spray, but the sight was too entrancing to
regard small discomforts, so we made our
way over the rocks to a great crag, whence
a splendid View is obtainable. The volume
of water is tremendous, and in every respect
it is a “matchless cataract.” Ribbon Fall,
also in the Yosemite, is even higher, being
three thousand three hundred feet, but the
stream of water is so small that it can
easily pass unnoticed. June or early July
is the best season to see the falls, as later

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their volume notably diminishes, and earlier
the valley is almost impracticable from snow
—in fact, the coach does not run before the
middle of April. For those Who do not mind
roughing it, and who are fortunate enough to
gain access to the valley in winter, Nature
discloses her choicest marvels. All the
weirdly beautiful effects that ice and snow
can produce when tortured into a thousand
different shapes and forms will then be seen
in the Yosemite.

Observing some Indians straggling around
fishing, we went over to their camp, but saw
only one squaw there; she was quite a char-
acter; her name was Mahala, and she was
[over one hundred and twenty years old. She
possessed even still a good pair of eyes, and
had evidently full possession of her faculties.
We noticed several of those curious straw con-
structions known as acorn-caches, where the
acorns collected during the season are stored
away till they are utilised to make bread,
which forms such a staple article of Indian

112 Glimpses of Sunny Lama’s

diet. Pushing our investigations further, we
were looking into a little wooden hut, when
we saw several prostrate Indians in an
advanced state of intoxication. Old Mahala
now came up and made several expressive
gestures warning us away. She pointed to
the men, and made a motion of her hand to
her heart indicating a dagger—thrust. The
poor creature was evidently apprehensive lest
any harm should be done us whilst in the
camp, so having bidden her good-bye, we
departed.

There is a very stringent law in the United
States forbidding the sale of intoxicating liquors
to the Indians, which certainly in the Yosemite
is honoured more in the breach than in the
observance, for not only then, but on subsequent
occasions, we saw many completely inebriated.
This tribe, though once considerable, is now
reduced to a mere handful through war with
the “Whites,” and through internal struggles.
They spend their lives in idleness, save when
they fish or join a little in the chase, and they

 

 

 

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T/ze Yosemz'te—Ca/zform’a’s Wonder I I 3

agree with the poet that “the best of life is
but intoxication.”

The next morning, before starting for Glacier
Point, we went to Mirror Lake. This piece of
water has been happily denominated “but a
frog—pond.” It is worth visiting only for the
beautiful reflection it gives of the surrounding
mountains, and to get this it must be seen at
sunrise. Fortunately, too much is not required
of the unenergetic traveller, as the sun’s rays
can only get over the mountain about half—past
seven or eight o’clock during July and August;
but if even an early start were requisite the
sight would make ample compensation. We
saw the outlines of Mount Watkins in absolute
distinctness—every tree and every rock faith-
fully shadowed in the mirror. There was a
buzz of excitement amongst the spectators as the
time for the sun’s advent approached. A small
speck of gold is seen on the water: it quivers
and then dilates, soon it fofins a segment of a
circle, which gradually enlarges till the orb of
day shines perfect on the lake, though not yet

H

114 Glimpses of Sunny Lands

visible in the heavens to the spectator. The
sight has now reached its climax. Soon the
rays of the sun dart down from over the
mountain-top, and as the day star slowly
swings into View the beautiful images float
away “like the baseless fabric of a vision,”
and “blasted with excess of light ” Mirror
Lake lapsed into her normal prosaic “frog-
pond” condition.

The excursion to Glacier Point is made on
horseback. Let not the timid equestrian be
alarmed at this fact, nor even when we tell him
that almost all the trips in the Yosemite are
made in the same manner. On the contrary,
let him return to his normal serenity when we
assure him that, thanks to the quietness and
sure—footedness of the steeds, never in the annals
of the valley has a traveller perished on the
mountain steep. Truly the fact seems remark-
able, when we consider how many people ride
this day for the first time in their lives.
Glacier Point has undoubtedly the finest
general View in the district, and as such if only

Tée Yosemz'k—Calz'form‘a’s Wonder I I 5

one day can be devoted to the valley, it is the
excursion par excellence. The trail is good and
fairly wide and presents no difficulty whatso-
ever. At one or two places, however, if the
traveller is of nervous temperament, it might
be advisable for him to dismount, as turnings
of the trail show him pretty plainly the vast
height to which he has mounted and the sheer
nature of the precipice. The grand point of
observation is from a huge rock that projects
out like a beam from the summit, but this View
is only for the courageous, perhaps we should
say the foolhardy, some of whom are photo-
graphed here. The spectacle is in no wise
better than that which can be obtained from a
perfectly safe place. Beneath lies the valley
with its verdant floor watered by the meander-
ing Merced river, every rock and every water-
fall being plainly visible, with Half Dome, a
prominent object. We can see also Vernal and
Nevada Falls, Clouds’ Rest‘, and grand stretches
of the mountain-monarchs of the Yosemite with

their snowy diadems. On the summit of

116 Glimpses of Sammy Lama’s

Glacier Point is a cottage occupied by a Mr
McAuley, who is well known in the district.
It is he who made several of the best trails and
who supplied tables of heights and distances for
local guide—books. He told us that in con—
sideration of a dollar he would light a fire and
give us a pyrotechnic display that we could
see in the evening from our hotel, three
thousand feet below; we agreed to the pro-
posal, and the display of fireworks was cer-
tainly very lavish, and was terminated by a
perfect cascade of fire down the mountain—side,
which lit up the bare crags and made a very
weird picture.

The next day we devoted to the Vernal
and Nevada Falls and the Little Yosemite.
Many travellers omit the last named, but it
is a mistake, as it only increases the day’s
journey about three hours, and opens up a
quite unexplored and charming district. It
is preferable to go on horseback unless one
is a very good pedestrian, as twenty miles of
rough ground must be traversed before “the

Tfie Yosemz‘z‘e—Calzform’a’s Wonder 117

long day’s task is done.” Shortly after
leaving the hotel we turn off the main road
on to a picturesque trail leading through a
magnificent cafion with rocky walls several
thousand feet high, and with a wild mountain
torrent boiling and seething through it. The
wooding is like that of some primeval forest:
firs and pines of astonishing height and
dimensions abound, whilst hurled around lie
great boulders of granite as if flung from the
cliffs in the days when giants walked the earth.
After proceeding some distance we pass a
rough, wooden bridge, and get a glimpse
of Vernal Fall. A grand mountain stream
flinging itself in howling fury over a bare
crag six hundred feet high—~such is this fall.
Columns of spray mount nearly half its height,
and a beautiful rainbow “amid the infernal
surge did sit.” Three mighty peaks rise near
the fall, Liberty Cap, Mount Broderick, and
Half Dome, sublime in their loftiness. Push-
ing on our way, the still more stupendous
Nevada Fall appears, and crossing another

118 Glimpses of Sunny Lands

bridge over a mass of glittering and tortured
water called Diamond Fall, we are beside the
former. The Nevada exceeds her sister fall by
two hundred feet, and in the volume of water,
as well as in the majesty of the surrounding
scenery, easily bears off the palm. Our path
now rapidly mounts, and, leaving on our left
the dozen mighty natural rock-steps called the
Giant’s Stairs, we pass some "barren, stony
ground, the resort of numerous rattlesnakes.
The cafion Widens and develops into the
Little Yosemite. It is four miles long by nine
wide, and the scenery, though on a smaller
scale than in the Great Yosemite, is sublime.
On the left is a perpendicular mountain chain,
averaging two thousand feet, and on the right
shoots up the bare but picturesque Sugar Loaf,
while at the end of a valley is a charming
waterfall—the Silver Chain—which falls in a
gleaming mass over eighty feet of rock. The
floor of this valley is a large meadow, watered
still by the Merced and carpeted with beautiful

wild flowers, among these the azalea and

 

 

 

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lee Yosemz‘z‘e—Calzform'a’s Wonder I I 9

Mariposa lily small and white with a red and
gold interior. In the river is a splendid
reflection of Clouds’ Rest—the highest of the
Yosemite mountains, towering ten thousand
feet above the sea-level. Beside the stream we
noticed in the mud tracks of the California
lion, and were informed that bears also are
frequently seen amongst these mountains.
In the rocks are numerous round holes made
in former times by the Indians to grind acorns
for bread. Nowadays the valley seems
neglected alike by them and by the tourist.
It is a pity.

A half day can be agreeably employed in
going on the Valley Drive, and affords a
welcome rest after mountaineering. Taken
on the whole, it would be impossible to find
anywhere a drive which embraces so many
wonders of nature in so short a time. Afar
can be seen the grand Half Dome, and on
our left are two great pinnacles of granite,
expressively styled Cathedral Spires, whilst
further on rises a crag probably the largest

120 Glimpses qf Sunny Lama’s

in the world, as it is certainly chef in the
Yosemite—hence its name—El Capitan.
Along the valley’s sides are curious profiles
in the rocks, and travellers exercise their
ingenuity in trying to discover some human
or other shape. The various conjectures on
one and the same subject are instructive: one
suggests an Indian, another Napoleon, whilst
a third indignantly says: “ Nonsense, it is
the breathing image of President Lincoln.”
So much for profile reading. Bridal Veil Fall
is the most picturesque in the Yosemite,
though neither the largest nor the highest.
The name describes approximately its appear-
ance—a veil of white lace—for all that, it is
as the sea, or as a beautiful woman, never the
same for two minutes consecutively, and yet
always enchanting. Now it descends in one
fleecy cloud, anon it seems to hesitate in
mid—air, then it flings its veil to the breeze,
again as we might expect, like a coy bride,
it draws its finery close around itself, still,
taking care never to completely conceal its

The Yosemite—California’s Wonder I 2 I

charms. The drive is so managed that we
are here about five o’clock, in time to see the
absolutely gorgeous rainbow which adds the
final touch to the picture. There is an Indian
name for this fall as for most objects in the _
Yosemite, it is Pohono, or the Spirit of the
Evil Wind. Years ago an old squaw was
found lying crushed to death beside the water,
and in their superstition the Indians believe
it was the Pohono that blew her to her doom,
and since that time nothing will induce them
to approach the place after nightfall. Directly
opposite us is the little waterfall known as
the “Virgin’s Tears,” undoubtedly weeping
for the “Bridal Veil” as our driver wittily
put it. Another fall is called the “Widow’s
Tears,” which, strange to say, dry up in three
weeks after the death of winter. He who
has been on all the Yosemite excursions that
we have attempted to sketch, can rest assured
that he has omitted no “lion,” and yet he
could spend many weeks here delightfully
wandering through the wild gorges and cafions
I

122 Glimpses of Sunny Lands

of the Sierra Nevada, climbing the various
mountain peaks, and plunging into almost
primeval forests. In the Yosemite one is
absolutely in the penetralia of Nature, “ com-

muning with her inmost heart.”

TURNBULL AND SPEARS, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH

 

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