The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Turk and his lost provinces, by
William Eleroy Curtis
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Title: The Turk and his lost provinces
Greece, Bulgaria, Servia, Bosnia
Author: William Eleroy Curtis
Release Date: June 21, 2023 [eBook #71013]
Language: English
Credits: Peter Becker, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The Internet
Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TURK AND HIS LOST
PROVINCES ***
Transcriber’s Notes:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.
* * * * *
THE TURK AND HIS LOST PROVINCES
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE BALKAN STATES TO ACCOMPANY “THE TURK AND HIS LOST
PROVINCES,” By Wm. Eleroy Curtis]
_The_ TURK _and_ HIS LOST PROVINCES
GREECE
BULGARIA
SERVIA
BOSNIA
BY
WILLIAM ELEROY CURTIS
_Author of “The True Thomas Jefferson,” “The Yankees of the
East,” “Between the Andes and the Ocean,” etc._
[Illustration]
_SECOND EDITION_
CHICAGO NEW YORK TORONTO
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY
LONDON & EDINBURGH
MCMIII
* * * * *
Copyright, 1903, by
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY
(_April_)
Chicago: 63 Washington Street
New York: 158 Fifth Avenue
Toronto: 27 Richmond Street, W
London: 21 Paternoster Square
Edinburgh: 30 St. Mary Street
PREFACE
Von Moltke, the great German soldier, predicted that a universal war
would be fought under the walls of Constantinople. He had faith that
the Christian Powers of Europe, sooner or later, would compel the Turks
to respect their moral, political, and financial obligations. This
would have been done years ago but for the jealousy of those Powers,
and the thousands of innocent Macedonians who have been massacred and
the hundreds of thousands who have suffered from Turkish cruelty are
the victims of that jealousy. The Czar would intervene, but England,
France, Austria, and Germany will not permit him to do so for fear
Russia will obtain a port upon the Mediterranean. At intervals the
uprisings in Macedonia have indicated the approach of hostilities. They
have grown more frequent and serious until, as this little book goes
to press, Russia and Austria have demanded a better government for
Macedonia, and the Sultan has responded by ordering 250,000 Turkish
troops into that province. Diplomatic negotiations and empty assurances
may again avert war, but every sign indicates that Von Moltke’s
prophecy is soon to be fulfilled. The purpose of this publication is
to give English readers a few facts about the several “buffer states”
of the Balkan Peninsula which cannot be elsewhere obtained. It is the
result of a journey through that peninsula as correspondent of The
Chicago Record-Herald, and although the author realizes that it is
defective and incomplete, he is confident that the American public
will appreciate his efforts to give them the timely information it
contains.
CONTENTS
THE GREAT TURK AND HIS CAPITAL
I. The Lost Provinces 13
II. The Turkish Government 35
III. The Sultan and His Family 54
IV. The Selamlik 82
V. The City of the Grand Turk 91
VI. Scenes in Constantinople 107
VII. Mosques and Palaces 126
VIII. Robert College and the Missionaries 142
BULGARIA
IX. Recent History and Politics 165
X. The People of Bulgaria 191
XI. The Kidnaping of Miss Stone 217
SERVIA
XII. The Political Situation in Servia 243
XIII. The Capital of Servia 257
BOSNIA
XIV. A Remarkable Example of Administration 273
GREECE
XV. From Corfu to Corinth 311
XVI. Modern Athens 332
XVII. Shrines and Temples 369
ILLUSTRATIONS
Map _Frontispiece_
_Facing Page_
A Ghazi--a Mohammedan Fanatic 49
Gate to Dalma Baghtcheh Palace, Constantinople 69
A Street of Constantinople 91
The Seraglio, Constantinople 92
Fire Brigade, Constantinople 116
Beyler-Bey Palace, Constantinople 132
Suleiman Mosque, Constantinople 136
Robert College, Constantinople 142
Sofia, the Capital of Bulgaria 166
House of the Sobranje, Sofia 176
Monastery of St. John of Ryle, Bulgaria 186
Royal Palace at Sofia 197
Business Street in Sofia 198
Military Club at Sofia 200
A Macedonian Ready for Revolution 239
King Alexander of Servia 248
Prince Ferdinand of Bulgaria 248
A Glimpse of Modern Belgrade 259
Royal Palace at Belgrade 260
A Glimpse of Old Belgrade 262
Government Hotels, Bosnia 296
Jewish Cemetery in Bosnia 299
A Young and an Old Corinthian 322
Ruins of Ancient Corinth 328
Modern Athens 332
Modern Athenians 335
The Museum at Athens 357
Mars Hill, Athens 378
Temple of Theseus, Athens 380
* * * * *
PART I The Great Turk and His Capital
* * * * *
The Turk and His Lost Provinces
PART I THE GREAT TURK AND HIS CAPITAL
I THE LOST PROVINCES
The next battle-ground of Europe, like the last, will be the so-called
Balkan Peninsula, comprising a group of petty states lying south of
Austria-Hungary, bounded on one side by the Adriatic, on the other by
the Black Sea, and on the south by the Ægean Sea. It is one of the
most primitive, yet one of the first settled sections of Europe, where
kings and queens and courts shone resplendent in ermine and jewels when
Germany, Great Britain and France were still overrun by barbarians.
The earliest inhabitants were the Dacians or Getæ, who had reached a
considerable degree of culture when we first hear of them, from Pliny
and Herodotus, resisting the invasion of Darius, the Persian, five
centuries before Christ. A hundred years later, when Philip of Macedon
besieged one of their cities, and was about to give a signal for the
assault, the gates opened and a long line of priests, clad in robes of
snow-white linen, came forth with musical instruments in their hands,
singing songs of peace. Philip was so impressed by this demonstration
that he laid down his sword, married the daughter of their king, and
entered into a treaty of alliance with them.
They fought Alexander the Great; they resisted the Roman legions; and
Julius Cæsar was planning a campaign against them when he fell in the
forum with the dagger of Brutus in his breast. Trajan subdued them, and
the story of his marvelous campaign is carved in marble upon his column
in Rome. Theirs was the last province to be added to the Roman Empire
and the first to go at its dissolution. The territory was fought over
at frequent intervals by contending forces to the end of the fourteenth
century, when, one after another, the several Christian states which
composed the Bulgarian Empire were subdued by the Ottoman invaders who,
in 1529 and 1683, actually reached the gates of Vienna. For nearly five
centuries they submitted to the yoke of the Sultan and, like all his
subjects, were gradually submerged in political, moral, intellectual
and commercial oblivion. The existence of the once powerful people was
almost forgotten. They lay helpless and hopeless under the heel of a
vindictive and merciless despot until what were termed “the Bulgarian
atrocities” excited universal horror in 1875-77. Then Russia intervened
on the pretext of racial and religious relationship, and attempted to
take them from Turkey.
The original Treaty of San Stefano, which fixed the terms of peace
exacted by the Czar from the Sultan, would almost have restored
the boundaries of the ancient Bulgarian Empire, given its people
theoretical independence under his protection, and reduced European
Turkey to a narrow strip of territory; but the jealousy of the other
Powers would not permit it. Russia must not be allowed to extend her
sphere of influence towards the Mediterranean. England and Germany
interfered, called a conference of nations at Berlin, tore up the
Treaty of San Stefano, restored a large area to the Turkish Empire, and
left a group of small, weak states to stand as a buffer between the
Sultan and his aggressive neighbors.
This was done upon certain conditions. Positive pledges were exacted
from the Sultan concerning the administration and taxation of the
restored provinces, particularly that the inhabitants should be given
religious liberty, and be governed by officials of their own faith.
Not one of these conditions has been fulfilled, and the most appalling
injustice and cruelties have been practiced year after year, similar to
those which occurred in Bulgaria and provoked the Turko-Russian war.
Human life and property have been held as worthless by the Turkish
officials and military garrisons. No woman has been safe from their
lust. No man has been allowed to accumulate property or to improve his
condition without exciting the avarice of the tax-gatherer and the
military commandant. It has been useless for the inhabitants to save
money or produce more than enough to supply their own wants, for the
slightest surplus would attract attention and be stolen from the owner.
The Christian population have had no standing in the courts and are
often prohibited from practicing their religion. The number of lives
wantonly taken, the number of homes wantonly destroyed, the number of
women ravished and the number of children butchered in the Turkish
provinces of Europe, particularly in Rumelia, where the population is
almost entirely Christian, would shock the world if the truth were
known, notwithstanding, year after year, the Powers of Europe have
permitted these barbarities to continue. The other provinces, Kosovo,
Monastir, Salonika and Scutari, have suffered severely, but the
barbarities have not been so extended nor general; and they are not
in such a state of anarchy, but are ripe for rebellion. Macedonia, as
Eastern Rumelia is familiarly called, is the center of disturbance.
An occasional insurrection or lawless incident of which a foreigner has
been the victim, such as the kidnaping of Miss Stone, has attracted
public attention, and frequent written protests have been filed at the
Sublime Porte by the ambassadors at Constantinople, in which the Sultan
has been warned that the atrocities would not longer be tolerated,
and has been admonished to repentance and reform. But, instead of
improving, the conditions have grown worse. Each of these diplomatic
episodes has been followed by more serious exactions and persecutions.
Every remonstrance has been the signal for an increase of the military
garrison in Macedonia, greater restrictions upon the liberties of the
people, and the arrest and imprisonment of patriots who were suspected
of having inspired the protests. This fact is well known at every
embassy in Constantinople and at every foreign office in Europe, both
from official and unofficial information. Every one who cares to know
the truth may learn it without the slightest trouble.
How long the Powers of Europe will permit the Sultan to defy them and
the present conditions to continue are questions often asked both in
private and in public, but never answered. The Powers are too much
engrossed in their own troubles to hear the cry from Macedonia, “Come
and help us!” for neither their pride nor their pockets nor their
politics are affected by the sufferings of a distant people whose
commerce is insignificant and who have no influence in international
affairs. Russia and Greece are the only sympathetic nations. They
belong to the same race and profess the same religion. Greece, being
feeble, is powerless, although her recent disastrous war with Turkey
secured the partial emancipation of Crete. The Czar would instantly
go to the relief of the Macedonians were he not restrained by the
jealousy of Germany, Austria and England. The British people will stand
unmoved and permit the entire Macedonian population to be exterminated
rather than allow Russia to gain a political advantage or extend
her boundaries towards the Bosphorus. Nor will Austria allow any
interference lest her manufacturers lose an insignificant market.
Austria is the natural protector of the people of the Balkan Peninsula,
and her administration of affairs in Bosnia has been remarkable for
tact, intelligence and success. If she were allowed to extend a
protectorate over Servia, Bulgaria, Macedonia and the other countries
and provinces, and introduce among them the same reforms that have
been admirably carried out in the countries on the Adriatic, which the
Berlin Conference intrusted to her care, it would be an unmeasured
blessing; but neither Germany, England nor Russia would permit such an
arrangement.
Germany is more culpable than any of the other nations, because its
government sustains and protects the Sultan in his atrocious policy of
administration, not only in Macedonia, but in all parts of the “Near
East.” No diplomatist of ancient or modern times has been more shrewd
and skillful in profiting by the rivalries of his enemies. He knows
that Germany will not allow Russia, England or Austria to punish him;
therefore he can afford to defy them, and treat the remonstrances
of their ambassadors with contempt. It must amuse His Majesty the
Sultan to read the signature of the German ambassador at the bottom
of the frequent diplomatic notes that are handed to him concerning
the misgovernment of his empire, and we can imagine his large, sad
eyes grow merry at the farces so frequently enacted at the Yildiz
Kiosk, when the representatives of the Powers appear in their radiant
uniforms, as they often do, to remonstrate against his inhumanity
to his Christian subjects, and the massacres that are committed at
his very doors. He realizes, and he knows that they realize, that
the slightest interference by force on the part of any one sovereign
will provoke another and even more emphatic remonstrance elsewhere,
lest some political or commercial advantage may be gained. When
the situation grows serious, however, he grants another profitable
concession to some German syndicate as an additional policy of
insurance against intervention.
The continual extension of German enterprise in the Ottoman Empire
makes the reform of abuses more difficult and the position of the
Sultan more secure. If Germany will cultivate his good will to obtain
concessions, their possession will make it necessary for Germany to
protect them. The invasion of Turkey by a foreign army, the disturbance
of commerce and industrial conditions, would be a serious danger to
German investments already there, and the longer such interference
is postponed the more serious that danger will be, because those
investments are rapidly multiplying and gaining in importance. The
peace of Turkey and the maintenance of present conditions are essential
to their profit. Thus the Kaiser stands as the nurse of the Sick Man of
the East.
There are few German investments in European Turkey, because the
anarchy which has prevailed there for many years has kept capital
and immigrants away; but throughout the other Balkan States German
enterprise is taking the lead in every line of trade and industry,
and pushing the sales of German goods. In Asia Minor, Armenia, Syria,
Palestine and other parts of Turkey, the Germans are already numerous
and are increasing. They have greater privileges and better advantages
than any other class. The significance and value of the Kaiser’s
friendship for the Sultan is appreciated, not only by the officials,
but by the public at large, and for that reason Germans are exempt from
many, if not all, of the annoyances suffered by other foreigners.
It is useless to speculate as to what might happen if the friendship of
the German Emperor for Abdul Hamid were withdrawn. History teaches that
political problems in Turkey cannot be solved by the same rules that
apply to other countries. The Sultan and his ministers are not to be
considered as logical or rational beings. The extraordinary skill which
they have displayed in eluding the frequent crises that have occurred
in recent years, offers no ground upon which to base a prediction, but
the Germans are not to be involved in any ordinary complication. The
latest episode was the seizure of the island of Mitylene by a French
fleet to enforce the payment of money due French contractors who built
the docks at Salonika. The Sultan appealed to the Kaiser to extend
his good offices in arranging an amicable settlement, and the German
Minister of Foreign Relations advised the Turkish ambassador at Berlin
to pay the bill. The bill was not paid, but a mortgage upon the future
receipts of a Turkish custom house was given instead, and the French
fleet withdrew; but when the mortgage falls due, two years hence, it
will be necessary to send another fleet to collect it, for the Sultan
never keeps his promises nor pays his bills until he is compelled to.
The Kaiser is too shrewd to become involved in such a scandal; but if
the French go so far as to interfere with German interests in Turkey or
the Balkan States, they will undoubtedly meet with resistance.
The desperate state of affairs in Macedonia, or Eastern Rumelia, as
that province is named on the map, is attracting no marked attention
in Europe. This apathy, however, cannot long continue, for sooner or
later some nation, whether from humanity or selfishness, will interfere
and provoke hostilities in which all the Powers of Europe must become
engaged. The seeds and causes of conflict are there, and cannot be
exterminated without a struggle. The Austrians could do more than any
other nation were they permitted to make the attempt. They have already
demonstrated in Bosnia their ability to regenerate and govern a mongrel
population, but the ambition and purpose of Russia, ever since the
Romanoff dynasty came into power, has been to make Constantinople its
southern capital, and add the Ottoman Empire to its own.
In Bulgaria, Servia and Roumania, disorganization and decay are
advancing more rapidly than the elements of progress. These nations are
becoming poorer and weaker because of misgovernment for which there
is no hope of reform. Before many years their condition will have
reached a crisis that will call for intervention. Russian influence is
now supreme in Roumania and Bulgaria, and the Servians are willing to
submit to Russian domination under certain contingencies; but Austria
lies just across the Danube, and, as the nearest neighbor, takes a deep
interest in Servian affairs.
It is probable that trouble will ultimately arise through collisions
between the Bulgarian patriots and the Turkish troops in Macedonia.
They occur frequently. Scarcely a month passes without a skirmish upon
the border between brigands, as they are usually called, and Turkish
military guards. Bulgarian citizens are being arrested continually
and imprisoned in Turkish jails, and the Bulgarian government is
always making useless protests to the authorities at Constantinople.
The fact that Bulgaria is nominally under a Turkish protectorate
complicates matters and gives an additional excuse for hostilities on
the Turkish side, for the tribute which was agreed upon at the Berlin
Conference has never been paid, and never will be. Even if there
were a disposition on the part of the Bulgarians to comply with this
stipulation, it would be difficult for them to raise the funds; thus
the debt continues to pile up year after year, until Turkey, when the
Sultan considers it wise to act, will make a demand and call upon the
Powers to enforce it.
The _casus belli_ is always on the side of the Turk. Bulgarians are
continually invading Turkish territory, and it is the policy of the
Sultan to shoot them when his soldiers can catch them, and say nothing
about it. If Bulgaria makes a complaint, it is claimed that the dead
men were brigands, caught with arms in their hands, and that the
government is trying to suppress brigandage. Some day, however, the
Bulgarian people will not be satisfied with this answer. They will
insist that their government demand reparation from Turkey, and make
a hostile demonstration that shall attract the attention of Europe.
If Turkey “calls the bluff,” and sends her troops over the border,
Bulgaria will appeal to the Powers for protection, and thus force the
Macedonian cause upon their notice. This would have occurred long ago
but for the inability of Bulgaria to raise funds to equip and pay her
army, the indifference of Prince Ferdinand and the lack of leadership.
The influence of Russia is against radical measures also, because
she does not think the time is ripe. If Stambouloff had lived, the
situation in Bulgaria might have been very different from what it is
to-day. His death removed the chief obstacle to Russian domination and
left Bulgaria a mere pawn in the great game of diplomacy which the Czar
is now playing with the other sovereigns of Europe.
An American gentleman who has spent his life in Turkey, and is familiar
with the situation throughout the country, describes it as follows:
“The state of the Turkish Empire--morally, socially, financially and
politically--betokens the coming of a night of anguish. In every
department of government the amount of shameless iniquity is appalling.
Simony and bribery, treachery and extortion, always present, but once
wont to hide themselves, have lost all shame and fear of rebuke, and
are hideous in their ramifications. Socially the situation everywhere
is dismal. You read of riots and bloodshed in Albania, in Montenegro,
along the frontiers of Bulgaria, and more recent outrages and
bloodshed in Armenia. Things are not quite so bad in Syria, though
they are on the way to it. During the past four years emissaries from
Constantinople of a certain type have sown seeds of bitterness among
the Moslems and Christians until their relations to each other are
marked with unusual hostility, suspicion and open bloodshed. Even in
Beirut, one of the most peaceful and progressive communities in the
empire, an active vendetta is in progress and almost nightly men are
murdered. No one is punished, no one’s life is safe. It would seem as
though the very foundations of the social fabric had fallen.
“I can give you in brief the reasons why this awful state of affairs
will continue: The corruption of the courts, in which all crimes are
condoned for money. The sole ambition of the unpaid officials, after
the collection of the exorbitant taxes, is to get a hold upon citizens
of every degree and by means of charges, false or true, extort money
from them. I have lived in Turkey more than eighteen years, and have
yet to hear the innocence or guilt of a prisoner or criminal dwelt
upon. The officials apparently exult in the increase of crime, caring
only for the bribes and gifts resulting therefrom, while the wretched
people caught seek only for a way by which they can get free from the
clutches of these minions of the law. No one ever places any moral
weight on the judgments delivered, for in ninety-nine cases out of a
hundred they are worse than worthless. I am measuring my words and know
whereof I speak.
“The second fruitful cause is the centralization of absolute power
in Constantinople and the treacherous subversion of every vestige of
civil rights ever enjoyed by the people. The present Sultan, years
ago, instituted a policy by which he was to become the absolute master
of everything in the empire. The military establishment, in its six
great divisions, takes its orders direct from Abdul Hamid. Civil
affairs are supposed to be administered through the vilayets (some
thirty-five in all). In former times the chief officials, civil and
military, were almost absolute in their departments and are still so
in theory. But in recent years the Sultan, by an invidious system of
imperial _irades_ or edicts, has filched away every privilege and
prerogative of these provincial officials. Constantinople has become
a huge auction-market where every position in the empire is bought or
sold for a price. Worse than this is the ominous fact that the high
provincial officials, who once had the power to punish or remove a
disobedient or unworthy subordinate, are now powerless to effect any
reform. When an official falls under their displeasure or judgment,
the matter must be referred to Constantinople. The delinquent hurries
off to the capital and returns with an imperial rescript in his hand,
confirming him in his position and enabling him to defy courts and
judgments, officials and public opinion. By this process the Sultan has
insidiously undermined and completely overthrown the legitimate form of
government and replaced it by a set of spies, iniquitous and despicable
beyond description. The despotic master and the irresponsible clique
which has displaced the real government, have now extended their
abominable practices and travesty of justice to the ends of the empire.
As a result good men are disheartened and are leaving the empire by
thousands. Everyone who ever expressed dissatisfaction with the present
régime or sighs for reform or change for the better is instantly
branded as one of the Young Turkish party and treated as a felon. So
the empire has fallen into the hands of the worst elements--parasites
and sycophants who are mocking and baffling one another in every
department, while the common people are trampled under foot.
“The third cause of corruption and lawlessness is, if possible, worse
than all. Immediately after the massacres in Armenia and Constantinople
there were thousands of soldiers, military officers and civil officials
whose hands were dyed with innocent human blood, and whose pockets and
houses were filled with the accursed plunder which they were allowed
to take as their reward. Fearing at that time that the Powers might
seek the punishment of these red-handed murderers, the Sultan began
a wholesale shifting of them to all parts of the empire, so that in
every district we have thousands of these brutes who participated
in the killing of 100,000 Armenians. No one was ever punished, no
one was ever rebuked. Europe, in her pitiful jealousies, failed to
exact punishment for anyone. In a little time the Sultan and all his
miserable crew came to glory in this colossal crime. But retribution is
coming. The Albanians and the Kurds, after such orgies of lawlessness
and bloodshed, rapine and plunder, could never be expected to relapse
into law-abiding citizens of any empire, and so they are completely
out of hand and at this moment shaking off the last shadow of control
from Constantinople. Those parts of the empire which were once safe
and law-abiding are now preyed upon by treacherous spies and men whose
sense of decency and justice was forever blotted out by their acts in
Armenia. So neither Europe nor the world need express any surprise as
the hand of God rolls up the stormclouds of retribution and smites the
empire with the awful agonies of the coming night.”
Unspeakable horrors have been constantly occurring in this corner of
the earth, and will continue to occur so long as Turks are permitted
to govern Christian communities. The present management of the
Macedonian Committee is patriotic, unselfish and honest. The previous
administration was corrupt and vicious, but no one will suggest that
the sufferings of the Christian citizens of Turkish provinces should be
prolonged, even though bandits and blackmailers may be interested in
their redemption. The world owes a duty to the people of Macedonia. So
far as Armenia is concerned, anything more than diplomatic intervention
is impracticable, and civilized nations can only continue to exert
moral pressure on the Sultan in its behalf. But Macedonia is in an
entirely different position. There will be no difficulty in reaching
the sufferers with a fleet or an army of rescue if necessary, because
its ports are on this side of the Dardanelles, and the continued
violation of treaty stipulations will justify forcible interference.
Every day the situation becomes more and more serious, the necessity
for action more urgent.
The number of Bulgarians and other Christians massacred in Rumelia
and other Turkish provinces will never be known. There is no hope
that time will effect any change for the better. The motives for
murder, torture and oppression are too deep-seated for moral suasion
or diplomatic negotiation to reach. So long as the Christians submit
patiently to every wrong that may be inflicted upon them, so long will
they be permitted to live; but, in the eyes of the Mohammedans, they
have forfeited their lives by accepting the faith of the Greek or the
Roman Catholic Church, and so often as an excuse is offered it becomes
a religious duty to exterminate them. Just as Saul was bidden to smite
the Amalekites, and to slay both man and woman, infant and suckling, ox
and sheep, camel and ass, so does the Koran admonish the faithful to
remove unbelievers from the earth. Hence it is absurd for the Powers
of Europe to wrangle with the Turks concerning the principles of good
government or the introduction of reforms.
Not one of the many stipulations in the Treaty of Berlin has ever been
faithfully fulfilled; not one of the reforms demanded has ever been
actually carried out by the Turkish authorities. It is true that a
Christian was appointed governor-general and served in that capacity
for five years; but he was a cowardly creature and permitted himself
to be used as a screen to shield Mohammedan subordinates who murdered,
robbed and tortured the members of his own faith. “_The Bulgarian
atrocities_” perpetrated between 1865 and 1875 have been repeated
in Macedonia, and the population of that province has been largely
reduced by massacre and persecution until several sections are now
entirely deserted by their former Christian inhabitants. Every form of
tyranny and brutality has prevailed. One record shows 15,000 victims
during the last ten years. If a faithful Moslem covets the property
of his Christian neighbor it is only necessary to denounce him for
“discontent” before the nearest magistrate, and the soldiers will do
the rest.
The inhabitants of Macedonia, as previously stated, are of the same
stock, profess the same religion, speak the same language, and have
the same customs as the Bulgarians. They are generally intermarried,
so that the persecutions are a matter of family as well as national
concern. Ever since the refusal of the Berlin Conference to include
Eastern Rumelia in the Bulgarian Kingdom, the people of both countries
have been determined to bring about annexation by force, and, soon
after the recognition of the Bulgarian government, an organization was
formed to promote that cause. It is known as the Macedonian Committee.
Its headquarters are at Sofia, Bulgaria, occupying the second floor
of one of the most conspicuous buildings in the center of the city.
No secrecy is attempted. The meetings are open to the public, their
proceedings are published in the newspapers, the names of the officers
and committees appear upon every document issued, and a weekly
periodical, maintained in the interest of the cause, usually contains
lists of contributors to its support and signed articles by prominent
agitators. Branch organizations exist in every community. There is
not a village in Bulgaria without one, and the membership includes at
least ninety-five per cent of the Bulgarian people. The organization
is non-partisan, and has the tacit support of the government, being
composed of members of all political parties--both the opponents and
the supporters of the present administration.
Until 1901 some of the managers were disreputable persons, and were
guilty of practices which brought the committee and the cause into
contempt. The late president, Boris Sarafoff, was a notorious gambler
and dissolute politician. His reputation was such that people would no
longer contribute money. He squandered every dollar he could control,
and, in order to obtain funds for the support of himself and his
associates, adopted a bold system of blackmail. He even went so far
as to threaten a high officer of the government with personal injury
if he declined to contribute, and gave notice that he would kidnap
the child of a Sofia banker unless a large sum was paid into the
Macedonian Committee’s treasury. When these practices became known in
the community there was a thorough overhauling of the organization and
Stoyan Mikhailovsky was elected president. He is a literary man of high
character, and enjoys universal respect and confidence, being the most
eminent writer and poet in Bulgaria, as well as an orator and scholar.
His associates in the management of affairs are men of similar ability
and reputation, but, upon taking charge, they found the treasury empty
and the accounts in such confusion that they were unable to make a
financial statement to their supporters. Under the administration of
Sarafoff, the worst elements in Bulgaria obtained control and the local
organization at Samakof, or Samacov, as it appears on some of the maps,
was undoubtedly responsible for the kidnaping of Miss Stone.
We do not know definitely what is being done in Macedonia to prepare
for a revolution, but it is no secret that the entire province is
practically in a state of anarchy, and whenever an opportunity is
offered it will occur. In the spring of 1901 the treasury of the
Macedonian Committee at Sofia was stripped of every dollar by the
rascals who had charge of its affairs, and the difficulties of raising
funds have seriously increased since the scandalous disclosures made
at that time. Nevertheless the committee has renewed its activity
and is making energetic preparations in anticipation of an outbreak.
No secrecy is attempted with regard to revolutionary operations in
Bulgaria. The propaganda is carried on with the greatest publicity. But
all movements on the Macedonian side of the mountains are covered with
mystery. Conscious of danger, the Turkish authorities in Macedonia are
vigilant and constantly engaged in efforts to suppress the proposed
revolt. For several years the Macedonians have been organized and arms
and ammunition have been distributed among them. They drill in the
forests by night and bury their guns and cartridges among the roots of
the trees. This is an ancient custom, and strangers riding through the
country often have their attention directed to ancient oaks which bear
signs to mark the spot where arms have been concealed.
When the struggle does come the Macedonians will fight to the finish.
After five centuries of Turkish bondage they have become convinced
that it is better to die than to live under present conditions.
Deserted farms and heaps of ashes indicate where the Turks have been
administering discipline. The Turkish officials spare neither women
nor children, and make no distinction between Bulgarians and Greeks.
Every person who does not profess their faith is an infidel fit only to
die the death, and must submit to their lust, cruelty and extortion.
No Christian woman in Macedonia can be protected from the passion of
the Turkish soldiers and officials, and the thresholds of thousands of
homes are slippery with the blood of husbands and fathers who have died
defending the honor of their wives and daughters. But the Turks have a
way of accomplishing their purpose without the apparent use of force.
If a Turk finds a Christian woman who pleases his fancy it is only
necessary for him to have her summoned before the nearest magistrate
and asked if she desires to become his wife. If she consents the
marriage ceremony is performed at once. If she refuses persecution
begins--not only herself, but her father, mother, brothers and sisters
are arrested for fictitious offenses and thrown into prison. They may
be accused of treason and shot; they may be fined the entire value of
their property, and made to suffer other penalties which the Turks show
great ingenuity in devising. Some women yield to save their families,
and are self-condemned to spend their lives in the perpetual slavery of
the harem, but usually the entire family abandons everything, and flees
across the boundary into Bulgaria with only such property as can be
carried in their hands, to begin life over again under the protection
of the Bulgarian authorities and among sympathetic surroundings. The
Turkish officials invariably confiscate any property that may be left.
Southern Bulgaria is full of such refugees. A friend told me that more
than a dozen families within his own personal acquaintance had been
compelled to abandon their homes in Macedonia for this reason alone,
and within the limits of Bulgaria are several thousand similar cases.
Young women actually disfigure themselves that their attractions may
not excite the admiration of the Turk.
A gentleman who recently passed through Macedonia told me of a
spectacle he saw with his own eyes and an experience which can
never be forgotten. He says that, stopping for a drink of water at
a roadside cabin, he saw evidences of a recent disturbance, and, as
no one responded to his knock at the door, he entered. Seated upon a
rude bench was a wild-eyed woman holding to her breast the body of a
young babe, whose head had been crushed by a cruel blow, and whose
face was stained with fresh blood. Upon the floor in the corner of
the room was the mutilated body of a young peasant, the face hacked
by scimiters until it was beyond recognition, while the abdomen had
been ripped up until the bowels protruded. The woman was evidently
insane from fear and grief, and the fact that she was unharmed was
construed by the guide to mean that she was absent when a troop of
Turkish soldiers, passing by, had stopped at her home long enough to
murder her husband and child. The cause could only be inferred. The
man was said to be an industrious, honest, well-to-do peasant, who had
married the comely daughter of a prosperous neighbor about three years
before. The neighbors dared not discuss the occurrence, but from the
little information he could obtain it was not unusual. The people are
accustomed to such tragedies. The man was a member of the Greek Church,
and the Turkish soldiers killed him and his child because he either
refused to renounce his faith or because they supposed he had hidden
his handsome wife at their approach.
Much of the trouble is due to the desire of Turkish officials and
soldiers to secure the daughters of Christian families for their
harems. Is it any wonder, then, that the women of Bulgaria and
Macedonia have taken the sword in their own hands and defended their
homes and their persons with the courage and the strength of men?
We read of a band of Bulgarian Amazons who performed such prodigies
of valor in one of the revolutions years ago that, when they were
finally overcome, the Turks impaled them alive before the gates of the
governor’s palace and placed their heads upon the town walls.
The rebellious provinces have a population of about 4,000,000,
three-fourths of whom are Christians and one-fourth Turks. Almost
two-thirds are of Bulgarian ancestry, and, naturally, the people of
Bulgaria have a deeper sympathy for them than have those of other
nations. A portion of Macedonia formerly belonged to Servia and the
remainder to Bulgaria. If it were understood that, in the event
of emancipation from Turkish rule, the province would be divided
upon ancient lines, the Serbs would doubtless lend their assistance
and reënforce the Bulgarians; but unless some such understanding
can be reached in advance the Serbs might resist Bulgaria, because
of neighborly jealousy, and aid Turkey to suppress the revolt by
making war upon Bulgaria. The present committee advocates Macedonian
independence on the same basis as that of Servia, Bulgaria and
Roumania, and its local newspaper organ asserts that it would be the
crime of crimes to involve these three nations in a war.
Entirely disinterested judgment would suggest that the province of
Rumelia should be placed under the protection of Austria, Germany or
England; or, if that could not be permitted, that it should be governed
by the Swiss, the Danes or the Dutch, who have no political interests
at stake. The people are not fit for self-government, while the old
policy of trying to reform the Turkish administration is criminal
folly. Improvement will appear, however, the moment the curse of
centuries is withdrawn, and the ground left free for wise, honest and
just administration. Peaceful Moslems should, of course, be permitted
to pursue their vocations and practice their religious rites, as in
Bosnia. Religious freedom should be the fundamental condition, but the
Turkish pashas and bashi-bazouks, and every official of Islam faith
should be compelled to disappear, never to return.
If Russia could be induced to extend her influence in Armenia, which
no other power can approach without crossing foreign territory, and
permit Austria to control the Balkan Peninsula, there might be peace;
but Russia is indifferent to the Armenians, because they do not belong
to her race, nor profess her religion, while the populations of the
Balkan States are almost exclusively Slavs and members of the orthodox
Greek Church. Whatever may be said of the political aggressiveness
of the Russians, it cannot be denied that the rulers, statesmen and
people of that empire have always shown active sympathy for oppressed
Christians, and there is not the slightest doubt that Alexander II.
entered upon the war with Turkey in 1877 as if it were a holy crusade.
The religious relation gives Russia an advantage over Austria, because
the latter is a Roman Catholic country, and very few members of that
faith are found in Bulgaria or the Turkish provinces. Neither Russia
nor Austria would consent to British domination in the Balkans, but
they might yield their own claims in favor of a protectorate by one of
the smaller nations, such as Switzerland, Denmark or the Netherlands.
II THE TURKISH GOVERNMENT
The Sultan of Turkey is a good deal like President Cleveland, in
that he tries to look after the details of his government himself.
President Cleveland used to sit up all night sometimes examining the
recommendations of postoffice candidates because he felt a personal
responsibility in the selection of good men, which he could not
delegate to the officials of the postoffice department. He used to
read all the evidence and other documents connected with pardon cases,
because he could not trust the judgment of the attorney-general and
the officials in the department of justice. He frequently sent for the
papers relating to Indian contracts, public lands and other matters of
business which no President before him ever investigated personally,
but he knew more about what was going on, and had more influence
with his own administration, as President Lincoln used to say, than
any other man. The Sultan of Turkey has a similar disposition, but a
different motive. He trusts nobody, although everybody succeeds finally
in deceiving him. He endeavors to do everything himself and to attend
to all the details, but never goes anywhere and is compelled to depend
upon his ministers and other subordinates to see that his orders are
carried out. Therefore most of his labor is wasted and the people
suffer the consequences.
For example, recently a bridge over a river in Asia Minor was carried
away by a flood and the people came down to Constantinople with a
petition for a new one, because all such things are within the Sultan’s
personal jurisdiction and can only be done by his orders. He read the
petition and heard the committee, and, casting his eyes over the map
they had submitted, suggested that the new bridge be built at another
place. It was somewhat distant from the old one and in a situation more
liable to danger from floods. At the same time it was very inconvenient
for the public; but nobody dare tell the Sultan so, or even question
the accuracy of his judgment. So a new bridge was erected at the new
location and a few weeks later it was carried away like the first.
The people came back to the Sultan. He refused to receive them and
sent word that he had given them a new bridge and that they ought to
be thankful and ask no more of him. Since then the population of that
district has been compelled to cross the river in small boats because
the government will not build another bridge for them and will not
allow them to build one for themselves. That is about the way the
government of Turkey is managed; a fair sample of maladministration
that applies to every department.
Up the Golden Horn is a navy yard, with a fine marble building for the
headquarters of the admiralty, a school for the education of officers,
barracks for the accommodation of sailors, a hospital for the sick,
and a long line of sheds and shops for the construction and repair of
ships, and an enormous amount of money is expended annually for the
maintenance of ships which are supposed to be in commission, but cannot
be used because their engines, boilers and other machinery are useless.
Some of them have no smoke-stacks. They lie at anchor where the Sultan
can see them through a glass from a certain point in the park that
surrounds his palace, and he supposes them to be in full commission
and ready for active service. He gives the minister of marine every
year money to pay for coal that is never bought, for provisions and
other supplies for crews that do not exist, and for repairs that are
never made. The shops are idle and empty, although he believes them to
be filled with busy workmen. According to the official register, the
Turkish navy consists of eighteen cruisers of from 2,000 to 8,000 tons,
twelve coast-defense ships, six gunboats and twenty-six torpedo boats,
but all are useless except a few small torpedo and gunboats stationed
at different ports along the coast. The annual allotment of money for
the supplies of the navy is about $3,200,000, but, according to the
popular impression, a very small part of it is ever applied to the
purpose for which it is intended. The navy yard on the Golden Horn is
the most extraordinary marine morgue in existence. Long rows of vessels
of the most antiquated pattern lie side by side, stripped of their
machinery and equipments and fit only to be knocked to pieces for junk.
Students of marine architecture will find there types of vessels that
have not been used for a century, and the Sultan still appropriates
money to maintain them. But even the most modern vessels, built during
the late war with Greece, have been stripped of everything portable by
officers and sailors whose wages have not been paid. The Sultan does
not know anything about it. He depends upon his minister of marine, who
gives him such information as he thinks advisable, and is supposed to
rob him right and left.
Hassan Pasha has the reputation of being the richest and the most
corrupt official in the Turkish government. He is supposed to be worth
$4,000,000 or $5,000,000, all of which he has acquired while in the
service of the government. He has great influence with the Sultan. The
latter considers him one of his most loyal and efficient officers and
trusts him implicitly. It is said that Hassan would like to resign and
enjoy his money in London or Paris, but dare not do so. The moment he
suggested any such idea the Sultan’s suspicions would be excited, and
it would be dangerous for Hassan to retire, because his successor would
discover what has been going on in the navy department, and Hassan’s
head and his money would both be in danger. Many other pashas are very
rich, but they send their money out of the country as a precaution,
for they never know when they may forfeit their sovereign’s favor,
and that usually means the confiscation of their estates and perhaps
decapitation or imprisonment for life. When a prominent man disappears
in Turkey no questions are asked. It is impolitic to be inquisitive.
Said Pasha, the grand vizier, is believed to be an honest man. He
is one of the few prominent officials of the government who has not
amassed a fortune while in office. For his honesty and other reasons
he has many bitter and revengeful enemies. Six years ago, when he was
grand vizier, he endeavored to punish certain influential pashas for
robbing the government. They engaged in a conspiracy against him and
got the ear of the Sultan, who believed their statements, and sent the
_Kapu-aghasi_, chief of the white eunuchs and first officer of the
imperial bedchamber--the Sultan’s most confidential man--to summon
Said Pasha to his presence. The _Kapu-aghasi_ is always an unwelcome
messenger, because the Sultan trusts him when he will trust nobody
else. When he carries a message it has unusual significance.
Said Pasha understood the situation, and, instead of going to the
palace, sought an asylum at the British embassy, where Lord Dufferin,
then ambassador, gave him protection. Nobody knew what had become of
the grand vizier until after seven days, when he sent a carefully
prepared report of his proceedings and the motives for the conspiracy
against him to the Sultan by the hand of the British ambassador. The
latter explained to the Sultan his opinion of the case, and vouched
for Said Pasha as an honest, truthful and loyal man. The Sultan was
not convinced, but agreed to accept Said Pasha’s resignation without
further proceedings, and gave a formal assurance that if his former
prime minister left the embassy and returned to his own home he would
not be injured. Lord Dufferin notified the Sultan that the British
government would hold him responsible for any injury that Said Pasha
might suffer, and that in case of his death not even a plea of sickness
would be accepted. From that hour Said Pasha was the safest man in
Turkey. The Sultan sent his own physician and two of his most trusted
aides-de-camp to live in his house to protect him, and, adopting Lord
Dufferin’s suggestion, made an investigation of the charges against
him. Nobody knows how he got at the facts, but he executed some of his
new favorites, sent others into exile and finally restored Said Pasha
to power and gave him his confidence as fully as he ever gives it to
any one.
It is said that Shanghai, China, is the dirtiest city in the world,
that Peking is ten times as dirty as Shanghai, and that Canton is ten
times as dirty as Peking: but Constantinople is as dirty as all the
rest of them put together, and the pavements are simply horrible. Yet
the Sultan, who has never ridden about his capital, is laboring under
the delusion that it is well paved and sweet and clean. Several years
ago he took a notion to go by carriage instead of by boat to Seraglio
Point upon his annual pilgrimage to worship before the holy mantle of
the Prophet Mohammed, and the officers of the municipal government
covered the pavement of the streets through which he was to pass
with fine sand two or three inches deep. This not only concealed the
filth, but made a smooth and comfortable track for his carriage. The
Sultan was delighted, and gave instructions to fix all the streets in
Constantinople in the same manner, allotting a large sum of money to
pay the expenses. The officials took the money and put it in their
pockets, and nothing was done to the streets. The Sultan honestly
believes that Constantinople is one of the best-kept cities in Europe,
and often boasts of that fact to foreign visitors. As he dare not go
through the streets to see for himself, and is surrounded by men whose
interests and safety require them to maintain the deception, he will
probably never discover how he has been deceived. The two great bridges
across the Golden Horn, which connect Stamboul, the Turkish town, with
Galata, the foreign settlement, produce not less than $2,000 a day in
tolls. Every foot passenger is charged a penny, about the same fee as
that collected by the ferry companies of New York, and carriages pay
ten cents. But of the receipts not more than $100 a day goes into the
public treasury. The rest is stolen by people who have charge of the
collections. Everybody gets his “squeeze,” from the general manager
down to the Turks with white aprons who stand at the entrances and
take the money. Curious people have taken the trouble to stand at the
approaches to the bridge and count the number of passengers within a
certain time as a basis for an estimate of the revenues, and assert
that $2,000 a day is a low calculation. It is also asserted that
not more than ten per cent of the customs collections goes into the
treasury. The balance is stolen by the officials, who receive no
salaries and are expected to take care of themselves. Sometimes they
get their money out of the importers and exporters by blackmail,
because each collector of customs is required to turn a certain
amount into the treasury every month, but some of them simply take a
proportion of the ordinary receipts and are satisfied with that.
Several propositions have been made to the Sultan to farm out the
collection of duties to a bank, which is willing to guarantee him a
stated sum in cash annually and take its chances of collecting an equal
amount or a good deal more upon the present tariff rates, but the
Sultan dare not make such an arrangement because the customs service
takes care of so many poor relations and hangers on of his favorites.
If he should put this patronage out of his hands they would have to
be supported in some other manner. Therefore he declines to have his
revenues honestly collected.
Some people think that the Sultan was not responsible for the Armenian
massacre in 1896. Others are confident that he ordered it, just as
Charles of France ordered the massacre of St. Bartholomew. They
believe that he was induced to do so by the representations of the
Sheik-ul-Islam and his ministers that the Armenians were on the point
of revolution, and there was circumstantial evidence to sustain their
claims. There had been repeated massacres by the Kurds and other
Turkish barbarians in Armenia, and thousands of Christians there lost
their lives and property. When a committee of Armenian citizens went
to the Sublime Porte to present a petition demanding the protection
guaranteed their countrymen by the Treaty of Berlin in 1878, they were
prevented from entering, and attempted to fight their way in, which
caused a riot and gave their enemies an argument to secure official
sanction for their persecution. But what is known as the “Ottoman
Bank Affair” was really the immediate cause of the massacre. It is
practically the only bank in Constantinople, and is managed by an
Englishman. One morning in 1896, while business was going on as usual,
a party of forty or fifty armed men entered the building and closed the
doors. The manager, Mr. Vincent, succeeded in escaping. The bank was
promptly surrounded by troops, which made it impossible for the bandits
to get away with any booty or with their lives, but they threatened
to blow up the vaults and to set fire to the building unless they
were granted immunity. Mr. Vincent had sufficient influence with the
authorities to secure such terms, and during the night after the raid
the bandits were taken from the bank to the nearest dock, placed on
board Mr. Vincent’s private yacht and carried to Marseilles, where they
were put ashore and disappeared. They claimed to be Armenians, but were
all strangers. Some people think it was a “fake” raid arranged by the
Turkish police to arouse public prejudice against the Armenians. Others
think that a foolhardy group of Armenian revolutionists attempted to
secure funds to carry on a revolution. But whatever the intent or
expectation, on the following day the Sultan was persuaded that unless
the Armenian community was effectually terrorized it would overthrow
his government. He gave the word, the Mohammedan priests and _softas_
(theological students) led the mobs, and the Turkish fanatics continued
to kill Christians until they were exhausted.
There is a multitude of priests, divided into classes and ranks.
The lowest is the muezzin, who is a sort of sacristan or sexton at
the mosque. He calls the faithful to prayer, but takes no part in
the devotional exercises. _Softas_ are theological students--young
preachers who make up a fanatical and turbulent class and are the
cause of most of the disturbances in Constantinople, as the students
of universities often are in other European countries. Next to them
in rank are the _cadis_, who exercise a temporal as well as spiritual
jurisdiction, acting as notaries, justices of the peace, judges of the
courts and look after the financial affairs of the different parishes
and religious orders. There are several religious brotherhoods and
orders like the dervishes. The _moulahs_ or regular priests, who
conduct the services at the mosques, may be compared with the ordinary
clergy in our country. One grade above the _moulah_ is the _khodja_, or
professor of theology, who is found daily at the mosques with a copy
of the Koran and other orthodox authorities before him, expounding the
faith of the Mohammedans to groups of students and others who gather
around him, sitting cross-legged upon the floor.
You can find these groups in every mosque at all hours of the day,
and they remind you of the story of Jesus teaching in the temple.
The theologians receive fees from their pupils. Another class of
_khodja_ expound the Koran to ordinary people very much in the manner
of our Sunday-school classes. After the regular prayers are over in
the mosques they take convenient places, and those who desire to
learn from them squat around in semicircles within the sound of their
voices. The lesson or lecture lasts about half an hour. Many of the
pupils are business men who are interested to hear and know. Others
are poor devotees who scarcely understand the language of the teacher,
but listen attentively to everything he says. There is no regularity
about the lectures and no stated fees are charged. Those who attend can
pay whatever they like. Some of the ablest theologians attract large
classes and make a good living. Their incomes are much better than the
salaries paid to the ordinary _moulahs_, or parish priests. Superior to
them are the _mufti_, or bishops, and the Sheik-ul-Islam, or patriarch,
the spiritual head of the Mohammedan Church, who often is known as the
Great Mufti.
Nearly all of the Moslems in Constantinople are employed either by
the church or the state, or are ordinary common working men. They are
ignorant and fanatical, dangerous when excited by the priests or the
_softas_, who make the mischief, and are as devout as any people in the
world. It is the universal testimony that Mussulmans are more loyal to
their religion and more faithful to its teachings than the members of
any other church. The pashas and the higher officials of the government
wear the European dress with the red fez. The poorer Turks retain the
native dress.
[Illustration: A GHAZI--A MOHAMMEDAN FANATIC]
While there are doubtless many good traits about the Mohammedans, and,
as an old lady said about Christianity, their religion would be a good
thing if it were lived up to, it is difficult to reconcile the facts.
For example, the Koran and the teachings of the prophet enjoin personal
cleanliness as necessary to salvation. The Moslems always bathe before
they pray. They would not dare enter the house of prayer with unclean
hands or feet or faces. Hence when the muezzin’s call is heard from a
minaret five times a day, faithful Moslems go first to the fountains
that are found outside of every mosque and bathe themselves. There
are innumerable bath-houses also in which genuine Turkish baths and
massage are given. At the same time their houses are positively filthy;
too filthy, as a rule, for human beings to occupy; and the streets
of Constantinople and every other Turkish town are indescribable in
their nastiness. The clothing they wear is as dirty as their bodies
are clean, and their food is often unfit for sanitary reasons. A
true believer will not cut down a tree without planting another in
its place. Hence the Turkish forests are in splendid condition. The
kindness of the Mohammedan to animals is proverbial. He will not kill a
rat and will share his crust with a dog; he will not beat a horse, and,
as you have often read, among the Bedouins man and horse always share
the same tent. But it is no offense to kill a Christian. Human life is
nowhere else held at so low a value.
The Koran forbids the followers of the prophet to charge interest
upon loans of money, hence Mohammedans cannot engage in the banking
business, and you often hear that true believers never swindle each
other; that no Mohammedan ever lies, except where the interests of
Christians are involved; that he will tell the truth to his own people.
It is evident that the Turks consider it no crime to cheat a Christian
or to tell him a falsehood, and it is a beautiful delusion that
Mohammedans never deceive or swindle one another. I have tried to
reconcile this generally accepted fable with the notorious robbery
of the government. Almost every official of the Ottoman Empire is a
Mohammedan. Very few Christians are employed in any capacity, and in no
other land on earth is official corruption, bribery and embezzlement so
general and common. It is not only known, but tolerated. Few officials
receive salaries, and they are expected to make a living by robbing
their government and by blackmailing people who have business with
it. While there is nothing in precise terms in the Koran to prohibit
malfeasance in office, one would suppose that the general laws of
morality and honesty, if not patriotism, would be recognized and
applied. When I asked an intelligent and liberal Mohammedan to explain
this phenomenon he did so without the slightest hesitation. He declared
in the first place that the government knew that its officials were
robbing the revenues and expected them to do so. Therefore, it was
no crime against the laws and no violation of the teachings of the
prophet. In the second place, he said, there were bad men among the
followers of the prophet as well as among the followers of Christ,
and that, “while no man who obeyed the teachings of the Koran and the
injunctions of Mohammed would cheat or steal, many sometimes did so
under great temptation.”
We are also told that Mohammedans are strict prohibitionists; that they
drink no wine or liquor of any kind, and this is more generally true
than any of the other statements to which I have referred.
There are plenty of saloons in Constantinople, but they are all found
in the foreign quarter. In Stamboul, which is almost exclusively
Mohammedan, there are none, and the natives dissipate at coffee-houses,
which are as numerous in the Mohammedan districts as saloons in
Chicago. The highest joy that a Turk can realize is to sit outside
a café, sip a cup of coffee, smoke a _nargileh_--one of those
long-stemmed water pipes--and contemplate the infinite. At least,
I suppose that is what the solemn-looking old chaps who sit around
on the sidewalk are contemplating. Their faces wear an expression
of unutterable wisdom, solemnity and benevolence that cannot be
surpassed, and their composure is perfect. A Turk is always composed
at a coffee-house, and you would think that his soul was submerged in
benevolence. But when he comes to action he is an entirely different
sort of a person.
As a rule Turks of the upper classes are very good-looking. Their
features are fine, their heads are intellectual and their expressions
are amiable. In addition to the coffee-houses water fountains for the
benefit of the poor are found on almost every block. When a rich man
wants to erect a monument by which he may be remembered, he builds a
fountain in a public place and leaves money for its maintenance. When
Kaiser William of Germany was in Constantinople a few years ago he
ordered the erection of a fountain, which is beautiful in design and
of expensive construction. It must have cost him a very large sum of
money, and was an appropriate, useful and noble gift. Thousands of
men make a business of peddling water, lemonade and sherbet through
the streets of the Turkish part of the city, and another praiseworthy
custom among benevolent men is to leave legacies to pay for the free
distribution of drinking water among the working people. You see many
such peddlers on the docks, in the factories and at other places where
laborers are employed. They go about with pigskins full of fresh water
upon their backs and a dozen cups hanging from hooks in their belts.
Anybody can stop them on the street and ask for a drink, which they
always furnish with great courtesy, as they are required to do by their
employers. If you give them a tip they will accept it, but it is not
necessary and it is not expected. The Turks are a very temperate people.
A Turkish gentleman declared that the young men of Constantinople were
being led into dissipation because they thought it was “progress”; that
fast foreigners had introduced bad habits into the country, including
whisky and brandy drinking, and many young Turks had followed their
example. The saloons and beer gardens, he said, were intended for,
and were generally patronized by, the foreign population--the French,
Germans, Italians, Austrians, Hungarians and others--and several liquor
stores had been established to supply them.
“Many young Moslems have become intemperate,” he exclaimed, “and it can
only be attributed to the bad example of Christians.” The pashas and
other public men think it is necessary to serve wine at their houses
because it is served to them when they visit the homes of foreigners,
and thus the habit is being introduced. The Sultan drinks nothing but
water and coffee, although at formal dinners he offers wine to his
guests.
“I met a friend the other day,” continued my informant, “who offered me
a glass of wine. I declined, saying that my religion forbade the use of
wine. ‘So does mine,’ replied the pasha, ‘but God is merciful and I
shall be forgiven.’”
One great trouble in Turkey is the disloyalty of the upper classes. The
lower classes are fanatical in their devotion to the Sultan and the
Mohammedan Church. But it is the office and not the man they adore.
They care very little who occupies the throne and will give their lives
cheerfully to support and defend him. The Turkish soldiers are great
fighters, if well led, and are absolutely destitute of fear because
they are taught from infancy that he who dies in defense of the church
or the Sultan goes straight to paradise, which is sufficient incentive
for them. At the same time the words “loyalty” and “patriotism” do not
appear in the Turkish language, and those emotions are almost entirely
unknown to the pashas and other persons of high rank who are always
striving to excel each other and secure the favor of the sovereign, and
the power, influence and wealth that attend it. The foundation of all
the trouble is the absolute authority intrusted to the Sultan, who is
able to appoint to the highest offices and elevate to the highest rank
the most unworthy and incompetent favorite at his court. The Sultan can
make and unmake pashas at pleasure, and this precarious tenure of rank
and dignity induces them to be so corrupt, so treacherous and envious.
Another great source of weakness is the entire absence of anything like
justice. If a man is accused before the Sultan by one of his spies or
by any informer, high or low, he has no trial and often there is no
investigation. In very rare cases the accused has an opportunity to
make a personal defense; but in the Sultan’s eyes every man is guilty
until he is proved innocent, and the opportunity to submit the proof
seldom comes.
A Constantinople photographer to whom I applied for portraits of the
Sultan and other public men explained that he was not able to furnish
them because the Moslem religion forbade its adherents to make the
likeness of anything in the heaven above or in the earth beneath,
and that the injunction was strictly observed by old-fashioned and
conservative Mohammedans. Being the head of the church, the Sultan
thinks he ought to observe it as an example to others. Nevertheless
the portraits of his sons have been painted, and you can buy their
photographs wherever such things are sold about town. And there are
oil portraits of previous Sultans in all the public buildings. On
the table in the audience chamber at the Seraglio, is a large quarto
volume containing a collection of the portraits of thirty-seven Sultans
of the Osman dynasty. In the treasury are a lot of miniatures and
several busts in bronze and marble. Statues of several Turkish heroes,
including Sultans, have been erected, and hence we must find some other
reason why Abdul Hamid will not be photographed. Perhaps it is merely
an idiosyncrasy, for he has many.
At the same time public men in Turkey do not have their portraits
painted, nor do they have their photographs taken as frequently
as those of Christian countries, and it is difficult to buy their
pictures. Certain photographs of public buildings, the interiors
of mosques, and women in the Turkish costume, are sold only to
foreigners. No photographer would dare sell the picture of a woman
to a Moslem, because her husband or father would take it as a mortal
insult, although he would have no objection to its sale to foreigners,
particularly those who take it out of the country. He would consider
that a compliment. These notions are relaxing generally throughout the
country, like many other of the Moslem habits and customs.
When I was at Constantinople the city was filled with pilgrims on their
way to Mecca. They came from all parts of the Ottoman Empire and from
the Mohammedan settlements in Russia. One party of 4,000 arrived from
Central Asia via Odessa upon special steamers, which carried them to
Jiddah on the Red Sea, the nearest port to Mecca. Hundreds of Persians,
Kurds, Mongols, men from Turkestan, Afghanistan, Bokhara, Cashmere
and other far-off countries had ridden thousands of miles over the
desert on this religious mission, and had come to Constantinople for
the purpose of paying homage to the Sultan, who is the head of their
church. The bazaars and mosques and the streets and public places were
crowded with them.
Very few were able to see the Sultan. Their only opportunity was on
Friday, when he rides through his park from the palace to the mosque
to say his prayers. They knelt when he passed, and afterward kissed
the ground over which his carriage had driven. Many of them were men
of wealth and property, but did not look it. They were dressed in the
fantastic costumes of their races and added to the variety of apparel
for which Constantinople is noted.
Every Moslem who can afford to do so makes a pilgrimage to Mecca at
least once in his life, for that not only insures the salvation of his
soul but advances him in social and religious rank also, and he then
becomes a _Hadji_, a title for which we have no equivalent. It gives
him a higher place in the mosque and secures for him certain privileges
and advantages which people who have not been to Mecca do not enjoy.
Hence it is the ambition of every Mussulman to make the pilgrimage,
and millions go every year. The pilgrimages are regulated much better
now than formerly. Sanitary rules are enforced, which tend to prevent
the plagues that have invariably followed the annual hegira. Formerly
thousands upon thousands died from fatigue, starvation and disease,
and contagion was carried to different parts of the world by returning
caravans. But this no longer occurs. The pilgrimages are so regulated
that nowadays they can be accomplished without much danger or fatigue
and at comparatively small expense.
The most conspicuous man among the pilgrims was Hadji Sheik Islam, the
head of the church in Persia, who was accompanied by his son and three
other prominent Persian ecclesiastics. Upon their arrival they were met
with great ceremony by the Persian ambassador and the Sheik-ul-Islam of
Constantinople. They were guests at the Persian embassy, and enjoyed
the hospitality of the Sultan, who decorated them with badges and other
honors and conferred upon them his blessing as the head of the church.
Their dress is quite picturesque. They wear long tunics, or gowns, of
white silk with plaited bosoms and flowing sleeves, and the finest of
cashmere shawls as sashes around their waists. Over their gowns were
large brown camel’s-hair robes and upon their heads enormous white
turbans. The Sheik’s party were men of noble appearance and dignified
demeanor and received the homage of the people as if they were
accustomed to it.
When a Turkish steamer, carrying 1,400 pilgrims, was about to start
for Mecca the Sultan sent orders that no passenger should be charged
more than $8 fare, and that those who could not afford to pay should be
carried free. When the officers of the steamship company remonstrated
he blandly told them to send the bill for the difference to him--an act
of generosity which amused everybody who has a sense of humor, for the
Sultan of Turkey was never known to pay for anything. The steamship
company dared not defy his orders, but after reflection was ingenious
enough to partially recoup itself. When the steamer got as far as
Beirut, it dropped anchor, and the officers informed the managers
of the pilgrimage that they could not go any farther because they
had run out of coal, and they could not buy coal because they had no
money, the small amount paid by the pilgrims for fare having already
been exhausted. The pilgrims appealed by telegraph to the Sultan,
who ordered the governor of Beirut to furnish them coal, and he was
compelled to levy blackmail upon his constituents to reimburse himself.
The Moslem day is reckoned from sunset to sunset, and is divided into
two divisions of twelve hours each. Sunset is always twelve o’clock,
and as the length of the day varies throughout the year, Turkish
watches have to be altered at least every five days by the official
clock, which is set in the tower of a mosque in Stamboul.
The crescent, which is the symbol of the Turkish Empire, was adopted by
the Sultan Osman, the founder of the present Ottoman Empire, in 1299.
It is said that in the year 340 B.C., when Constantinople was besieged
by Philip of Macedon, and was only saved by the timely arrival of
reënforcements which Demosthenes sent to its assistance, a bright light
in the form of a crescent was seen in the sky and was regarded by the
inhabitants as a sign that rescue was approaching. Hence, like the star
in the east that was seen by the wise men, it was accepted as a divine
revelation, and since then the crescent has been a sacred emblem to the
Turks.
III THE SULTAN AND HIS FAMILY
The present Sultan of Turkey is the most interesting personality
among the sovereigns of the world, both for what he is and for what
he represents, exercising as he does the functions of an emperor over
a semi-barbarous and turbulent people, and spiritual jurisdiction
over the most fanatical and numerous of religious sects. He is the
ecclesiastical successor of Mohammed, head of the Moslem Church with
200,000,000 believers, and of the house of Ishmael, the son of Abraham,
and in his person is supposed to receive and enjoy the blessings which
God promised to Hagar. That is one of the most dramatic incidents in
Biblical history when, in obedience to the jealousy of Sarah, his wife,
“Abraham rose up early in the morning and took bread and a bottle of
water and gave it to Hagar, putting it on her shoulders, and the child,
and sent her away, and she departed and wandered in the wilderness of
Beersheba.” And after the water was spent in the bottle and she had
cast the child under one of the shrubs, and lifted up her voice and
wept, “The angel of God called to Hagar out of heaven, and said unto
her: ‘Arise, lift up the lad and hold him in thine hands, for I will
make him a great nation.’”
The Moslem world believes that Abraham was the founder of Mecca; that
Ishmael was their ancestor and that they have inherited the religion
of Abraham with its promises and blessings, and the characteristic
traits ascribed to Ishmael. Their hand has been against every man,
and every man’s hand has been against them, and still they defy all
other nations, whether pagan or Christian. Padishah (father of all
the sovereigns of the earth) is the official title of the Sultan,
and is used exclusively by the Turks in official communications. He
is also styled Imam-ul-Muselmin (pontiff of Mussulmans), Alem Penah
(refuge of the world), Zil-ullah (shadow of God), Hunkiar (the slayer
of infidels), and has several other honorary titles. He controls the
Mohammedan subjects of all nations, and if he should go to a little
mosque at the Seraglio, unfurl the green banner which was carried by
Mohammed, and declare a holy war, the sons of Ishmael in every part of
the earth--in India, Africa, China, the East Indies, and the islands
of the sea--would be required by their religion to sustain him and
obey his orders, regardless of their allegiance to their own civil
authorities.
Abdul Hamid II., the present Sultan, who was sixty years old in
September, 1902, is said to be a great coward who dare not leave his
country palace or show himself in his own capital. It is true that the
most extraordinary precautions are taken for his protection. He dare
not leave the safe solitude of Yildiz Park, which is situated about two
miles outside the gates of Constantinople and surrounded by a double
wall. The road from the palace to the Bosphorus passes between those
walls and is protected every inch of the way from the gates of the park
to the wharf on the Bosphorus, where, once a year only, he takes a
state barge and is rowed over to the Seraglio to perform the obligation
imposed upon him by his religion: viz., to worship the holy mantle of
the prophet on the anniversary of the death of Mohammed. That act is
required of him. If he did not perform it the whole church would rise
against him. Therefore, for that day, he is compelled to suppress his
fears and appear before the public; but it would be impossible for an
outsider to get anywhere near him unless he were highly recommended and
identified. Some people say that his cowardice is cultivated by his
ministers and other men who surround him, because they find it to their
personal advantage to prevent him from going abroad. So they keep him
locked in the Yildiz Kiosk, where they can control his surroundings
and prevent him from receiving any information that will be to their
discredit. At the same time there is no doubt that the Sultan keeps
constantly in mind the fact that many of the twenty-seven Padishahs who
have reigned at Constantinople are believed to have died by violence.
Several endeavored to save their lives by abdication, but the public
never saw them again.
The conspiracies are all among his own people and his immediate
attendants--the “outs” are always scheming to get in and the “ins” are
always conspiring to maintain their position. There are no political
parties in Turkey; there are no political issues. It is all a question
of obtaining the Sultan’s favor, and the entire Mohammedan population
is divided into two classes,--the ruling favorites and those who have
been discarded. The officials and army officers who have been disgraced
and removed from their positions naturally desire to recover them, and
hate the Sultan because he likes other people better than themselves.
The same jealousies prevail among the men of the court as among the
women of the harem. The outside population take no interest. They are
glad to be let alone. The business community consists of Armenians,
Greeks and Jews, with a few Turks. It would not be accurate to say that
all Turks are in office, but it is actually true that all the offices
are filled by Turks, and as there are not enough offices to go round,
those who are left out and compelled to get their living without the
aid of the government, are forever conspiring against the Sultan or the
grand vizier.
Some curious conspiracies are discovered. One of the most recent,
which for a time created a profound sensation at the Yildiz Kiosk
and caused the Sultan the loss of considerable sleep, was inspired
by a young Turk of high family named Rechad Bey. His father occupies
a post of distinction and many of his relatives are employed about
the court in offices of responsibility. As a rare favor to the family
the Sultan permitted them to send the young man to England, where he
attended school for several years and imbibed a great many ideas which
do not conform to the present state of affairs in Turkey. In 1901,
upon his return, he organized a football club among the young men of
his acquaintance and practiced in a vacant lot behind a high wall
in the neighborhood of his father’s palace. The detectives, who are
always around, discovered that something unusual was going on, and upon
making a thorough investigation decided that Rechad Bey had organized a
desperate conspiracy against the life and government of the Sultan. He
was arrested in the middle of the night. The keys to the garden and the
clubhouse were seized, and the most astounding discoveries followed.
In the clubhouse were found several footballs, a lot of jerseys and
the colors of the club, with shin guards, nose protectors, elbow pads
and other paraphernalia familiar to football players. To complete the
damning evidence one of the detectives cunningly ascertained that the
name of the large elastic bomb which these young men were in the habit
of kicking around at each other was the same term as that used by the
Turks for a cannon ball. Hence it must be a new kind of bomb or shell,
and the police authorities were convinced that they had unearthed an
important conspiracy to assassinate the Sultan and blow up the palace.
The footballs were submerged in water to prevent their explosion, and
the sweaters and the rest of the outfit were carried cautiously to the
palace in order that the Sultan might see for himself.
Football has been played for years in Constantinople by the young
men of the English embassy and the European colony, and also by the
students of Robert College, but the police authorities and the Sultan
never happened to hear of it. Hence they knew nothing of the game.
When the friends of Rechad Bey learned how serious a predicament he
was in they appealed to the British embassy for assistance. One of the
secretaries was sent to the minister of police to explain the nature of
the game and the uses of the terrible articles that had been discovered
at the clubhouse. He unlaced a football without the slightest
trepidation and showed the officials how it was made. He put on the
nose guards, the shin protectors and the other armor and attempted
to convince them of its innocent purpose. But they were still very
suspicious. Perhaps their pride had something to do with it, for they
insisted upon having Rechad Bey severely punished, and he was bundled
off in great haste to Teheran, Persia, where he cannot do anything to
aid in the disintegration of the Ottoman Empire.
The Sultan’s advisers tell him that his life is in danger, and are
continually discovering conspiracies which never exist. A recent
fictitious conspiracy against him was attributed to one of his best
and most loyal friends, Fuad Pasha, “The Hero of Elena,” one of the
foremost generals in the war against Russia in 1877 and the war against
Greece in 1897. Fuad Pasha is an enlightened and honest man and has had
the confidence of the foreigners to a degree greater than almost any
other of the Sultan’s favorites. Until recently he was so much of a
favorite that the Sultan allowed him to hold his handkerchief for the
people to kiss, which was a mark of the greatest honor and confidence.
He kept Fuad Pasha about his person constantly, giving him the
command of his bodyguard; but Fuad in some way offended the detective
department, which reported to the Sultan that his favorite was involved
with the reformers known as the “Young Turkey” party, and spies were
set to watch his house. Fuad noticed strange men about the premises.
He probably suspected who they were and what they were there for, but
pretended to believe that they were burglars, and purchased a supply
of rifles and revolvers, which he placed in the hands of his servants
with instructions to fire upon the intruders if they became offensive.
This fact was reported to the Sultan promptly, and the vigilance of the
spies was increased. A few days later a collision occurred between them
and Fuad’s servants, in which several were killed and wounded. Fuad
was immediately arrested, taken to the palace, and after an interview
with the Sultan was sent aboard the latter’s private yacht, which
sailed at once for Beirut without allowing the prisoner to communicate
with his family or friends. He is supposed to have been sentenced to
exile at Damascus instead of being executed, which is a mark of great
forbearance upon the Sultan’s part.
Fuad found plenty of company at Damascus. Several other of the Sultan’s
former favorites are there in exile, hopefully awaiting a day when
their sovereign will be less susceptible to the influence of his
hired spies and detectives and more trustful of his loyal friends and
supporters. The great difficulty, however, is in His Majesty’s natural
distrust. When his suspicions are once aroused his ideas are always
distorted and his confidence can scarcely ever be restored. He is thus
driving away some of his most valuable supporters.
In 1901, when the Sultan went to Seraglio Point to worship at the
mosque that holds the sacred mantle of the prophet, another funny
thing occurred. He was landed at the regular dock, where a carriage
was waiting to convey him to the old palace, but he had not proceeded
far when he noticed that telegraph wires had been stretched across the
driveway along the line of the railroad, and positively declined to
pass under them. Nobody knows what was in his mind, or what he thought
would happen, but the entire procession was stopped right there, and
remained motionless until aides-de-camp had galloped away to summon
somebody from the railway headquarters who could climb the poles and
cut down the wires. Nor have they been replaced. The Sultan positively
forbade it, but the railway officials are supposed to have dug a trench
and hidden them underground. If the Sultan learns that fact he may
refuse to drive over them.
He is very superstitious about electricity, but is as inconsistent
concerning it as he is with everything else. He will not permit
electric lights or telephones or electric street cars anywhere in
Turkey, although the government has a telegraph line to every important
point in the empire, and the Sultan has an instrument and an operator
in his private office to receive messages in his own private cipher
from detectives and other officials in different parts of the country
in whom he has special confidence, or to whom he may have intrusted
important business. He maintains a regular system of communication
with officials of the empire entirely distinct from and without the
knowledge of their immediate superiors. The general of the army and the
minister of war do not know what communications are passing between
commanders of posts and districts and their sovereign, and the minister
of the interior can never be sure what private reports are being made
by his subordinates. Thus the mutual distrust that exists between
the Sultan and his ministers is not only recognized, but promoted.
There are three electric-light plants in Constantinople--at one of
the hotels, at the palace of the mother of the Khedive of Egypt on
the Bosphorus, and at the palace of Hassan Pasha, minister of marine.
There are two private telephone systems, one between the headquarters
of the Imperial Ottoman Bank and its branches throughout the city,
and the other between the signal-station where the Bosphorus connects
with the Black Sea and the headquarters of the Maritime Association in
Constantinople. The Sultan will not allow gas or petroleum or other
explosives to be used about the palace, although the park surrounding
the palace is brilliantly illuminated by gas. His rooms and the
other apartments are lit with candles and equipped with beautiful
crystal chandeliers. There are several street-car lines operated by
horses, and the companies have repeatedly applied for permission to
use electricity, but have always been refused. In the street-cars,
ferry-boats and other public conveyances there is always a little
apartment curtained off for the use of ladies.
Gorges Dorys, author of “The Private Life of the Sultan,” recently
published in England, France and the United States, has been sentenced
to death. His real name is Adossides. The proceedings are only formal,
however, because Mr. Dorys left the country before the manuscript of
the book was finished and is now living in Paris. The French government
has been asked to surrender him, but has refused to do so. Mr. Dorys,
however, will never be able to return to his home. All of the European
nations were requested by the Turkish ambassadors to suppress the
volume, and the Sultan has been led to believe that his wishes have
been complied with all over the world; but nothing has been actually
done, except in Sweden, where an attempt to prevent the sale of the
book by legal proceedings not only failed but gave it a tremendous
advertisement.
Mr. Dorys is the son of Adossides Pasha, one of the former ministers
of the Sultan. His father was a distinguished and influential man, at
one time governor of Crete and afterwards prince of Samos, a post he
occupied until his death. The son spent his childhood and youth about
the Yildiz Kiosk, where he had exceptional opportunities for seeing
and knowing the extraordinary events of the Ottoman court, and much of
the material used in his book is said to have been obtained from the
private papers of his late father, which fell into his possession after
the latter’s death. Mr. Dorys was correspondent of the London Times
at Constantinople for two or three years, and as such made himself
familiar with political conditions. He was therefore admirably equipped
for the task he undertook, but was unable to suppress his prejudice,
and does not give the Sultan credit for his few virtues. The work is
both approved and condemned by people in Turkey. Some say that it is
accurate and just; others accuse him of being actuated by personal
spite. He has at least stirred up the Sultan and his court to a degree
of indignation that has not been shown there for many years.
The missionaries say that Abdul Hamid is a bad Sultan, but a good
Moslem; that his fanaticism is equal to that of any fakir in his realm;
that he is responsible for the persecution of the Christians and for
the massacre of the Armenians; that the orders were given by him
personally. On the other hand, Americans and Englishmen who are in the
habit of visiting the palace and have personal acquaintance with His
Majesty, insist that he has many good traits and that he would not be a
bad man at all if he lived under different conditions.
When General Horace Porter, our ambassador to France, visited Turkey,
the Sultan received him with unusual cordiality and attention, because
of General Porter’s former relations to General Grant. When he heard
that Mr. Porter had been Grant’s private secretary, it was enough. A
carriage from the imperial stable, an aide-de-camp from the Yildiz
Kiosk and a military escort were placed at his disposal and all doors
in Constantinople were ordered thrown open to him. Few travelers have
ever been received with so much distinction, and before he left the
city the Sultan gave a dinner in his honor at the palace and decorated
Mrs. Porter with one of his most important orders.
It is remarkable what an impression General Grant left during his
famous tour around the world. He is remembered with reverence
everywhere--in China and Japan as well as in Turkey. The Sultan and
the King of Siam, as well as Li Hung Chang, have always quoted him to
Americans as their highest authority. His fame and his influence will
be everlasting.
Mrs. Porter was entertained in the Sultan’s harem, but that was no
unusual courtesy. The wives of the diplomatic corps are often received
by the sultanas, who are glad to see them, and any other strangers
for that matter, because their lives are very monotonous and their
diversions are few. No person may ask permission to visit the imperial
or any private harem. It would be considered an insult. If the Sultan
or any Turkish gentleman desires foreign ladies to meet his wives he
will offer them an invitation, and will either conduct them in person
to the harem or send them in charge of the _kizlar-aghasi_, or chief
eunuch, a very important personage, who ranks next to the grand vizier
and the Sheik-ul-Islam.
The Sultans have long ceased to contract regular marriages, and the
harem is a state institution. Nobody knows the exact number of Abdul
Hamid’s wives, but he is supposed to have 300 or 400, who are graded
and live according to their rank under the direction of the _khasna-dar
kadin_, or superintendent of the harem. They are from the prominent
families of the empire, as frequently the sultanas are able to exercise
a powerful influence in behalf of their relatives and friends. When a
rich pasha wants to secure the favor of the Sultan he offers him one
of his daughters with a suitable dowry as a wife. If she is accepted
it is a sign of friendliness as well as a mark of distinction. When
the governor of the Circassian province, which is said to have the
most beautiful women in Turkey, wishes to please his imperial master,
he will send him a handsome young girl as a gift, or when any of his
subordinates discover a young woman of remarkable attractions they
secure her for the harem just as they would secure a valuable horse for
the imperial stables. The Sultan does not always accept such gifts. He
is supposed to be very fastidious, particularly now that he has passed
the age of sixty years, and is becoming quite as suspicious regarding
the inmates of the harem as he is concerning the members of his court.
His eldest sister, who is a woman of very strong character and has more
influence with him than any other person, looks after the harem very
closely, and has sent away a large number of girls whom she considered
supernumeraries, if such a term can be used in that connection. It is
also understood throughout the empire that His Majesty does not care
for any more wives. He has transferred to his favorite pashas several
remarkable beauties who have been added to the harem within the last
few years. In the summer of 1902 he sent one of the most beautiful to
the governor of Damascus to comfort the latter in affliction, as he had
recently become a widower.
The ladies of the harem are called sultanas. They enter as slaves, and
the younger become the servants of the older and attend upon them until
they are promoted. If the Sultan takes a fancy to any one of his wives
her fortune is made, for she is rapidly promoted, her allowance for
dresses and jewels is increased and, if she bears a child, she can live
apart from the rest, as becomes a princess. All children born in the
harem, whether of free women or slaves, are legitimate and of equal
lineage, and may inherit the throne if they ever become the head of the
family.
The daughters of the Sultan are married to favorite pashas and officers
of the army. He confers them upon his favorite subjects at pleasure,
but they are not always regarded as a blessing. It is assuming a great
responsibility to marry the daughter or the sister of the Sultan. They
are very exacting and naturally realize their rank and superiority to
ordinary people. They are expensive luxuries also, because an imperial
princess must live in a certain degree of state.
Ladies of the imperial harem almost without exception wear European
dress. Only the most recent arrivals, girls who come from the interior
of the country, retain the native costume. The sultanas have French
maids and order their gowns and hats in Paris. Every now and then a
French modiste or milliner arrives in Constantinople with samples for
the inspection of the sultanas, from whom she receives very large and
liberal orders. Although they are seldom seen by men, the inmates of
the harem have all the feminine instincts and there is a great deal
of rivalry among them. We saw one of the Sultan’s favorite wives and
her daughter driving in a victoria, accompanied by a negro eunuch and
a military escort. They were dressed in European fashion, but were
closely veiled so that their features could not be distinguished.
The apartments of the harem are equipped with European furniture. The
meals are served in European style and the cooks are French. The French
language is spoken generally among the sultanas and they read French
novels. Turkish customs are almost obsolete. The traditional harem in
which houris sit around upon silk rugs with their legs crossed and
play guitars and eat sweetmeats exists only in the imagination. The
women live just like any other royal family, except that they are not
allowed to receive company or enter society, and when they leave the
palace they must wear heavy veils. When the Sultan’s wives are ill
they are attended by the male physician of the British embassy. This
is also an innovation. Formerly no Christian physician was allowed in
the harem. The patients are always veiled when the doctor visits them.
Even if they are confined to their beds, strips of mull are thrown over
their faces.
Abdul Hamid is the son of Abdul Medjid, who abdicated in 1861 in favor
of his eldest son, Abdul Aziz. The latter reigned until 1876, when he
was overthrown and his next brother, Murad V., was placed in power.
The latter was an impetuous reformer and one of the founders of the
“Young Turkey” party, which demands a constitution and a change in the
form of government from an absolute to a limited monarchy. When he
attempted to carry his ideas into effect his ministers pronounced him
insane--and perhaps it was an evidence of insanity to introduce liberal
reforms into Turkey--so they shut him up in the Tcheragan Palace, upon
the banks of the Bosphorus, where it is supposed that he still resides
in seclusion, although no one is bold enough to show curiosity as to
his fate in the presence of those who would be apt to know. It was in
that palace also that Abdul Aziz died after his abdication. So reliable
a witness as the surgeon of the British embassy testified that it was
a case of suicide; that the deposed Sultan, in a fit of passion and
disappointment, opened the arteries in his arms with a pair of scissors
that were given him to trim his nails. But the popular theory is that
somebody opened them for him and let him bleed to death. Perhaps Prince
Murad may have met with a similar fate years ago. He has not been
seen by any competent witness since the spring of 1877, and was then
pronounced to be in an advanced state of paresis--a mere idiot--but the
circumstance that the Tcheragan Palace has never been opened since,
and is as closely guarded as ever, leads people to suppose Murad still
survives. But, as I have said, nobody but the confidential eunuchs of
the Sultan knows anything about him.
The heir to the Turkish throne is not the son of the Sultan, but his
eldest living male relative--brother, son or cousin, whoever it happens
to be. This is the law of Islam, and has been a fruitful source of
conspiracy and tragedy ever since the Turks have been in possession of
the Ottoman Empire. It was formerly customary for a new Sultan to order
the immediate execution of all his brothers as soon as he was seated
upon the throne; but public sentiment in Europe has forbidden the
application of that heroic precaution during the last fifty or sixty
years. It is generally assumed that the present Sultan would like to
murder his brothers, but dare not do so; hence he keeps them prisoners
or constantly under surveillance in the many palaces of Constantinople.
They are the most unhappy and wretched of all his subjects. He has five
brothers:
Murad Effendi, born September 21, 1840.
Mohammed Reshad Effendi, born November 3, 1844.
Kemel Eddin Effendi, born December 3, 1847.
Suleiman Effendi, born March 12, 1860.
Wahid Uddin Effendi, born January 12, 1861.
[Illustration: GATE TO DOLMA BAGHTCHEH PALACE, CONSTANTINOPLE]
Reshad Effendi, the second brother, is therefore the heir to the
throne, and, although he has been kept a practical prisoner for
twenty years, so that very few people know him, he is said to be a
man of refinement, education and integrity, much superior to his
imperial brother in intellect and appearance. He occupies a portion
of the Dolma-Baghtcheh Palace in Constantinople during the winter
months, and during the summer goes to Machla, a suburban town, where
he has a farm and a pretty villa. He has never been allowed to leave
the immediate vicinity of Constantinople, and his communications with
the outside world have been closely restricted by the orders of his
brother. He is said to read French readily and to receive the principal
newspapers and reviews of Europe that are printed in that language. He
is also believed to have been in sympathy and in communication with
his brother-in-law, the late Damad-Mahmoud Pasha, who fled to escape a
sentence of death for his liberal opinions. This is, however, purely
conjecture, because if the Sultan, with all his spies, cannot discover
such a circumstance, it would seem impossible for the gossips to learn
anything about it.
Prince Kemel Eddin, the third brother, is an invalid, and quite as
feeble in mind as in body, with a low degree of cunning and strong
animal instincts. He inherits the family tendency to pulmonary
complaints. Prince Suleiman and Prince Wahid Uddin are allowed to go
about Constantinople more freely than the other brothers, and are quite
familiar to the public, better known perhaps than any other members of
the family. Both live in handsome palaces and have liberal allowances
from the public revenues, which they spend with great extravagance in
luxury and vice. Neither Turks nor foreigners seem to care much for
them. They have no social position and very few friends.
The Sultan has several sisters. One of them, Djemile Sultana, six years
older than he, is a woman of strong character and has a great deal of
influence with her brother. She is with him frequently and takes an
active interest in public affairs. She has been a widow since 1858, and
really has been a mother to him. They were born of the same mother,
a Circassian slave, who lost her life in giving him birth, and hence
they have naturally been very much attached to each other. The other
brothers and sisters are the children of different wives of his father.
As previously stated, all children born in the harem, whether of free
women or of slaves, are legitimate and of equal rank; but, by the law
of succession, the crown is inherited by the senior male descendant of
Othman, the founder of the present dynasty in 1299. Therefore, so long
as he has any brothers living, the children of Abdul Hamid will not
come to the throne.
The Princess Senieh Sultana, another sister of Abdul Hamid, is about
fifty years old, and the widow of Mahmoud Pasha, who was the leader
of the “Young Turkey” party and for years an active advocate of
its principles, regardless of his near relationship to the Sultan.
His conspiracies, if they may be called such, were always carried
on directly under the eyes of the Sultan, and of course were very
offensive to him. Mahmoud was a good man, judged by our standard, but
a great traitor and an unpardonable villain from the Turkish point of
view. He was educated in France and England, where he imbibed liberal
ideas, and, returning to Turkey, married the Sultan’s sister and
introduced into his own family many of the customs and ideas which he
had acquired in western Europe.
Being anxious that his sons should have a liberal education, he sent
them to Robert College, the American Presbyterian Institution on the
Bosphorus, just beyond the Sultan’s palace, which was founded there
half a century ago by the munificence of Mr. Robert, an American
merchant. Mahmoud Pasha himself went to arrange for the education of
his boys, and as there were reasons why he did not wish them to form
intimacies with the ordinary students, he persuaded Dr. Washburn, the
president of the institution, to take them into his own family.
The boys remained there just two days. On the evening of the second
day an aide-de-camp of the Sultan summoned them to his presence. They
were conducted to Yildiz Kiosk, where they had an interview with him,
and were offered commissions in the army. The Sultan told their father
that they must be educated according to Turkish ideas and in the
Moslem religion. “We have been educated by Turkish scholars, selected
by our father, who was a wise and learned man,” he said, “and such an
education is good enough for your sons, instead of sending them to be
taught by Christian _giaours_ (infidels).” The boys took commissions in
the army, but a few months later surrendered them and went to Paris,
where they have since resided. By an official edict of the Sultan they
have been degraded from their princely rank, cashiered from the army,
banished from Constantinople permanently and their allowances cut off.
In 1901 their father was also formally banished after he had fled
from the city to escape arrest and execution. For several months his
whereabouts were unknown. He was then discovered to be living quietly
at Corfu, one of the Greek islands. Being compelled to leave there he
went to Rome, Geneva, and afterward to Brussels where he died January
17, 1903. His wife, the Princess Senieh Sultana, is supposed to be
imprisoned somewhere among the many palaces of the Sultan, to prevent
her from joining her sons, as she is known to sympathize with their
liberal views.
An elder sister, the Princess Fatma Sultana, died insane in 1892, and
the aberration of her mind was a serious shock to the Sultan, who
dreads insanity as much as he dreads death--perhaps more. She was the
wife of a military adventurer, Nouri Damad Pasha, who was sent into
exile and afterward assassinated on suspicion.
The youngest member of the family, the Princess Medie Sultana, is
a woman of quiet disposition, about forty years of age, who lives
in absolute retirement, and is unknown to the foreign colony of
Constantinople. Her husband is Ferid Pasha, an inoffensive but
respectable army officer.
Two or three members of the immediate family of the Sultan have given
him much trouble, and it is from his own household that he fears
most. He trusts nobody. He reigns alone. His ministers are merely his
instruments and very few of them have any influence with him, although,
of course, he is compelled to depend upon them to carry out his orders
and to furnish him information.
Abdul Hamid has ten children--Mehemmed Selim, born 1870; Abdul
Kidir, born 1878; Ahmed, born 1878; Mehemmed Burhan, born 1885;
Abdur Rahim, born 1892. Zekie, his eldest daughter, born 1871, was
married in 1889 to Nur-ed-din Pasha, who occupies a high position in
the military department; Naime, a second daughter, born 1876, is the
wife of Mehemmed Kemal, another army officer. There are three other
daughters--Naile, born 1884; Shadieh, born 1886, and Ayisheh, born 1887.
So far as I was able to find out, the Sultan’s sons are decent fellows,
although their horizon is very narrow. None of them have been permitted
to travel, as he does not wish them to see anything of the world for
fear of weakening their faith in their religion and their confidence in
the form of government he maintains. Their education has been intrusted
to military officers and Moslem priests, and they will probably turn
out as narrow, bigoted and superstitious as their father.
Prince Selim, the eldest son, is more respected than any other member
of the family. The fact that there are several lives between him and
the throne gives him greater freedom than he would otherwise enjoy.
He was born in January, 1870, and is, therefore, thirty-three years
old. He has only one wife and keeps no harem, which is a surprising
exception in the imperial family. He holds the rank of colonel in the
army, and commands one of the regiments of the palace guards. His
duties are light, however, and leave him plenty of leisure, which he
spends in study with French and German tutors, although I understand
that his French tutors were recently dismissed by command of the
Sultan, because they were suspected of giving the young man dangerous
information. Prince Selim is not intellectual, however; his mind is
said to be rather dull, but he is patient and studious and has a
retentive memory, which is perhaps better for a man of his position
than more brilliant attainments.
Some years ago Prince Selim incurred the enmity of his father because
of the use of disrespectful language, and was banished to Bagdad for
several months, but was allowed to return to Constantinople under
the surveillance of Kiazim Pasha, his maternal uncle, who has the
confidence of the Sultan. The relations between the prince and his
father have never been fully restored, and there is no confidence
between them; but the prince receives a liberal allowance and is
allowed to do practically as he pleases, although he is surrounded by
spies and is not permitted to leave the city. He seems to be very fond
of his wife, who is the daughter of one of the pashas about the court,
and of his only child, a little girl now twelve years old.
Ahmed, the third son, who is twenty-four years old, is his father’s
favorite, and is studying military tactics under one of the most
successful of Turkish generals. He is destined to be commander of the
army. Burhan Eddin, who is seventeen years old, is also a favorite
and has considerable musical talent. The Sultan frequently introduces
him to foreign visitors, and has him perform for them upon the piano.
When Emperor William of Germany was visiting Constantinople, the young
prince was detailed as one of his attendants, and the members of the
Kaiser’s suite took a great fancy to him. He was then only about
fourteen years old, but was quite mature, and conducted himself with
great dignity. All the princes are educated by French and German tutors.
The Sultan is very liberal toward his family. He is absolute master of
the finances of the empire. He is not required to prepare a budget or
report his expenditures. The public money belongs to him and he directs
its disbursement. He gives each one of his brothers and sisters a
palace fully furnished and equipped, and all their household expenses
are paid from the imperial treasury. In addition to this each one of
them has an allowance of $5,000 a month for pin money. But Abdul
Hamid is much more economical than Abdul Aziz, his predecessor, who
squandered more than $100,000,000 during his reign without a thing to
show for it, and piled up a debt so big that it can never be paid.
The public bonds now outstanding amount to over $750,000,000, and the
revenues of the government can scarcely pay the interest. The finances
of Turkey, like those of other bankrupts, are controlled by a committee
representing the foreign bondholders, who receive from the treasury
a certain amount of money every month and distribute it among the
creditors of the nation.
A Constantinople physician who has had abundant opportunities
for studying his case, told me that Abdul Hamid is a victim of
neurasthenia, a nervous disease which is a form of insanity, and that
his psychological condition presents a most interesting problem,
for his symptoms are complex and vary materially from time to time.
He is naturally very intelligent, but, living in continual terror
of assassination, being afflicted with chronic insomnia, and having
a naturally suspicious nature abnormally developed, he has become
a monomaniac on the subject of self-preservation. His disposition
is gentle, and if he had lived like an ordinary man he might have
escaped the disease from which he suffers almost continual agony; but
his mistrust of everyone around him has become chronic, and he has
developed a cunning that is never at a loss for expedients.
He sleeps only two or three hours out of the twenty-four, and then
only when somebody is reading to him, or some orchestra or musician is
performing in the adjoining room. Darkness frightens him. Therefore
a light is always kept burning in his chamber, and Ismet Bey, grand
master of the imperial wardrobe, always sleeps in the same room. Ismet
Bey is his foster brother, and probably possesses his confidence more
fully than any other man. Because he resembles the Sultan so closely
in appearance, it is believed among the gossips of Constantinople that
he often impersonates His Majesty at ceremonies and on other occasions
where the latter is likely to be exposed to the danger of assassination.
Ismet Bey carries the keys to his desk, his wardrobe and his treasury
caskets, and is perhaps trusted farther and knows more secrets than any
other man about the palace; but he has no influence whatever with the
Sultan and would not attempt to exercise it if he did, for it would be
fatal to him. By a lifetime of devotion, as unselfish as any Turk can
render, he has demonstrated his loyalty and disinterestedness.
The Sultan is always restless and is awakened at the slightest sound.
When he awakes he always wants somebody to talk to, and Elias Bey,
second officer of the wardrobe, or Faik Bey, one of his confidential
secretaries, is usually at hand for that purpose. The Sultan sleeps
in a detached chamber, surrounded by corridors on all four sides, and
it is a popular impression that the walls are of steel. Four or five
sentinels slowly pace the corridors during the entire night, and if
the regular measure of their footsteps is interrupted the Sultan will
waken and inquire the cause. In addition to this guard an officer sits
at each corner of the corridor, where he can see both ways. In order to
prevent a conspiracy, a detail for this purpose is made from among the
subalterns of the different regiments about the palace every night. The
names are drawn by lot a few moments before the hour and no one knows
of his selection until he receives orders to report. These officers
have watches of four hours each, coming on duty at sunset and remaining
until sunrise. The Sultan is such a light sleeper that he awakens every
time the guard is changed.
He is extremely fond of music, and when restless, his orchestra, which
is under the direction of Dussap Pasha, is required to play all night,
or until orders are sent to relieve them. His Majesty is also fond of
theatrical and vaudeville performances and similar diversions, finding
them a relief from his perpetual fears. A theater connected with the
palace has two troupes of well-paid actors for dramatic and musical
performances. One of them is composed of Turkish and the other of
French and Italian artists. Foreign actresses and opera singers who
visit Constantinople are always anxious to appear before His Majesty,
because they not only receive liberal compensation from the master
of ceremonies, but, if they happen to please, His Majesty is sure to
present them with valuable jewels. Few people except members of the
imperial family are permitted to attend these performances. When the
Sultan invites one of the ambassadors, as he sometimes does, it is
considered a mark of unusual distinction.
The Sultan’s dress is extremely simple and free from extravagance. He
wears a military uniform and a campaign cloak such as is worn by the
ordinary officers of the army. His jewels, however, are unsurpassed by
any of the sovereigns of Europe. When His Majesty requires a new suit
of clothes Ismet Bey, his foster brother, is used as a model by the
tailor, as he and the Sultan are almost of the same size.
His diet is also very simple. He eats very little, of the plainest
food, and never touches wine nor liquors of any kind, but consumes
enormous quantities of coffee, which aggravates his nervousness. Up to
a few years ago a servant with a coffee pot always followed him when he
went out for exercise, and while driving in the park coffee stations
were placed at frequent intervals, where he could stop and refresh
himself. By the advice of his physicians he now limits himself to five
or six cups of his favorite beverage a day, and it is said that he has
himself noticed an improvement in his health. He is not so nervous
and sleeps better. General Porter, the American ambassador to Paris,
told me of a dinner at the Yildiz Kiosk, when the Sultan ate little
but American corn bread and soup. His meals are cooked separately from
those served to his family and guests, and the same man always prepares
them in a little room, like a laboratory, not bigger than an ordinary
bathroom. During their preparation an inspector always watches the cook
for fear of poison. The food purchased for the Sultan’s use is kept in
a huge safe to which his private chef alone has the key. Eggs and milk
are the principal articles of his diet. He seldom touches meat, but at
dinner usually has one or two vegetables.
Not being able to sleep, the Sultan does not retire before midnight,
and is always up by 4:30 or 5 o’clock in the morning, when he puts on
a long silken robe, takes a cup of coffee, smokes a few cigarettes and
reads his correspondence. About seven o’clock he takes a bath, and
then a breakfast of eggs and rolls and more coffee. At one o’clock his
luncheon is served, which is seldom more than a crust of bread and a
glass of milk--perhaps a small omelet. Although he takes his breakfast
and luncheon alone, his dinners are always served with great ceremony.
His younger sons, several of his secretaries and usually two or three
of his ministers dine with him. The list of his guests is usually
made out by the grand chamberlain of the palace and submitted to His
Majesty’s approval. The dinner is served at eight o’clock in French
style, with liveried attendants and an orchestra in the balcony of the
state dining-room, which is a gorgeous apartment. As a formality each
course is placed before the Sultan by the chief butler before it is
served to his guests, although he never touches it himself, his own
food being brought from his private kitchen by his personal attendant.
Sometimes he dines in his harem, where his sisters and wives and
daughters receive him with great ceremony.
Yildiz, the park in which the palace is situated, is a veritable
city, with a population of nearly 5,000, including the members of
the official staff and their families, the women of the harem, their
slaves and eunuchs, the princes and sultanas, with their households and
servants, the chambermaids, aides-de-camp, the imperial guard, which
consists of several regiments, musicians, clerks, gardeners, grooms,
valets, domestics and other employés, including a number of masons,
carpenters and other mechanics. The Sultan has a machine-shop for the
repair of machinery used upon the place, an arsenal, which contains
several thousand stands of arms for both sport and war, and samples of
all patents and styles. He has also a very rich collection of antique
oriental arms.
One of His Majesty’s fads is the manufacture of porcelain. He has
recently set up a factory in the park and imported a number of French
artists, who are making placques and other ornaments. He is fond of
wild animals and has quite an interesting zoölogical garden, with one
of the best kennels of dogs in the world.
I was informed by a high authority in Constantinople that the Sultan
pays $500,000 annually as subsidies to newspapers in Vienna, Berlin,
Paris and other cities of Europe to defend him and his acts and create
public sentiment in his favor. After the Armenian massacres, a few
years ago, he distributed more than $1,000,000 among the newspapers
that treated him kindly. Notwithstanding his self-enforced seclusion,
he is as familiar with European affairs as any man on the continent,
and scarcely anything that appears in print of importance or interest
concerning him or his empire fails to meet his eye. His ambassadors
and ministers at the different capitals are instructed to secure all
press clippings that relate to Turkey and forward them to a central
information bureau in Constantinople, where they are classified,
translated and arranged for the Sultan’s inspection. He spends a great
deal of time reading them and frequently receives important suggestions
and information from them.
I was repeatedly warned that every newspaper letter I wrote from Turkey
would be read by the Sultan personally. Missionaries and others from
whom I obtained information frequently asked me not to publish certain
things, because the Sultan was certain to see them and trace them to
their source. One gentleman, in giving me an account of a certain
enterprise, remarked: “I wish you would say that the Sultan takes a
great interest in our affairs. It will do you no harm and will do us a
great deal of good, for he is certain to see your letter and will be
pleased.”
The largest sums of money expended in purchasing the good opinion of
the press are expended in Germany and France, for the Kaiser is the
Sultan’s best friend and most reliable supporter, and he is pleased
when the German newspapers approve his policy.
Although the censorship in Turkey is very strict, the Sultan is a
thorough believer in the usefulness and importance of the press, and
in 1886 conceived the idea of founding a great national journal, to
be published in the Turkish and French languages and to be for Turkey
what the London Times is to Great Britain. He appointed a committee of
five of his ministers and secretaries to formulate a plan and prepare
estimates of the cost, but when he received a report and found how
expensive a luxury his proposed newspaper would be, he abandoned the
idea.
IV THE SELAMLIK
On Friday of each week--the Mohammedan Sabbath--occurs the Selamlik,
the one occasion on which the public may see the Sultan, although at
a great distance for most of them. The Moslem law requires the head
of the church to make a formal prayer at some mosque at least once a
week, and Friday is the day naturally chosen. Therefore the Sultan
must go, sick or well, to worship publicly. If he could not perform
this duty his ministers would dress up a dummy and send it in a closed
carriage in his place, because the act of reverence must be performed
though the heavens fall. The Sultan has his own little mosque attached
to the palace, where he prays frequently and with great regularity,
often abruptly leaving his ministers and others with whom he is engaged
on business when the cry of the muezzin is heard from the neighboring
minaret. No man is more devout or scrupulous in the observances of the
ritual in which he believes, and in that way he sets a good example to
his subjects.
Abdul Hamid’s public worship is performed at Hamidieh Mosque, a pretty
structure within the imperial park and close to the high iron fence
which surrounds it, so that those who enter and leave the temple may
be seen from the street. There is a large vacant lot, with rising
ground, across the road, intended for a drilling ground for cavalry,
and on every Friday it is crowded with the carriages of those who are
curious to see the Sultan, and are not allowed to approach any nearer
to him. Formerly the Selamliks were more public. There was a wooden
pavilion, a sort of grand stand for spectators, which was generally
crowded by strangers visiting the city, members of the diplomatic
corps, and others who were fortunate enough to get tickets, but since
the assassination of King Humbert of Italy and President McKinley, it
has been torn down and no more invitations are issued, although upon
the personal application of the ambassadors the Sultan will sometimes
admit foreigners whom they vouch for. Guests are allowed to witness
the ceremony from the windows or the roof of the neighboring palace,
but no one else is permitted inside the grounds except officials of
the government, officers of the army and pilgrims who constantly visit
Constantinople in large numbers. The public must be contented with
looking through the bars of the iron fence or witnessing the pageant
through field-glasses from the tops of the neighboring hills.
We were at Constantinople during the pilgrim season, when faithful
Mohammedans on their way to Mecca were arriving daily from Russia
and the surrounding states as well as from all parts of the Ottoman
Empire to pay their respects to the Sultan, who is the visible head
of their church, and to the Sheik-ul-Islam, his vicar in charge of
ecclesiastical affairs. They are admitted to the Selamlik when properly
vouched for, but the police are very careful to see that no assassin
disguised as a pilgrim shall pass the gates. The pilgrims occupy a
plot bordering upon the roadway over which the Sultan drives. As he
approaches they utter a peculiar cry. It sounds more like a wail
than a cheer, and is supposed to express reverence and admiration
rather than enthusiasm. It is the salutation of the true believer
to the head of his church, but if anyone were to make such a noise
at the approach of President Roosevelt or any of the sovereigns of
Europe he would be immediately arrested as a dangerous person. When
the Sultan has gone by, the pilgrims bow their heads in reverence and
afterward push forward and kiss the ground over which the wheels of
his carriage have passed. Many of them are venerable men, priests as
well as laymen, and as each wears the costume of his country the group
usually presents a picturesque appearance and adds much to the interest
of the scene. Those with green turbans are descendants of the Prophet
Mohammed and constitute a clan of themselves. They have maintained
their individuality during all the centuries, like the house of David
among the Jews, but it gives them no material advantages. They honor
themselves more than they are honored by others. You see laborers
wearing green turbans; yea, even the children of the prophet begging
bread from infidels.
There is very little to be seen at a Selamlik except the military
display. And that is splendid. Nearly the entire garrison of
Constantinople, numbering 12,000 or 15,000 of the picked soldiers
of the Turkish army, appear every Friday in brilliant and peculiar
uniforms, line the roadway over which the Sultan passes, surround the
mosque in which he worships and are packed into the grounds until their
red fezzes and glistening bayonets light up the entire park. There are
regiments of Nubians, Soudanese, Albanians, Arabs, Syrians, Kurds,
Turkestanese, Bokharans, Georgians, Circassians and other races unknown
to us, which cannot be seen elsewhere. The red fez, white turbans,
gold lace, stripes and sashes, white gloves, red and green banners and
the glitter of the arms make a brilliant combination, and one must
acknowledge that the soldiers of the Sultan are fine-looking fellows,
although they may be as wicked and as cruel as represented. They are
all Moslems. No Christian is admitted to the army, but every Christian,
Jew and Gentile subject of military age is required to furnish a Moslem
substitute. There are numerous military bands playing modern music very
poorly, and it may gratify Mr. Sousa to know that his marches are as
popular in Turkey as elsewhere. The pashas and generals wear dazzling
uniforms, covered with gold braid and lace, and other officers,
bedecked with equal brilliancy, seem innumerable. The grounds of the
palace suddenly become an ocean of gold lace and red fezzes.
When a carriage arrived with a black man upon the box in the footman’s
place, we knew it brought ladies from the harem with a eunuch in
charge. While all black men are not eunuchs, all eunuchs are black.
They are brought from Africa and Arabia when children and are purchased
like other slaves. The Sultan’s wives and sisters usually attend the
Selamlik, but have their own place in the mosque partitioned off by
screens. They cannot even enter the same door with their sovereign
master. He must pray alone. Only the Sheik-ul-Islam, the high priest
of the Moslems, or some great _mufti_ designated to represent him, is
admitted, whose presence is necessary to carry out the ritual.
The guardian of the harem, the _kizlar-aghasi_, or chief eunuch,
who ranks next to the grand vizier and the Sheik-ul-Islam, was
present, having in charge four sultanas. Each had her own carriage
drawn by white horses and a military escort and was attended by
ladies-in-waiting. Three of the Sultan’s sons rode on horseback among
the pashas that formed his bodyguard, and another, a little chap about
ten years old, had a tiny brougham drawn by ponies similar to that used
by Tom Thumb. He was accompanied by his tutor, an officer of the army,
and by a little aide-de-camp of his own age, a miniature imitation of
those who attended his imperial father. The little prince was in the
uniform of a colonel of the army, wearing a sword and baby revolvers,
and his aide was dressed to correspond.
Another carriage, one of the latest arrivals, was occupied by a little
girl--one of the Sultan’s daughters, attended by a woman with unveiled
face, wearing a violet satin gown. Hence we knew her to be a foreigner
and were told that she was the little sultana’s French governess. We
noticed that she sent one of her attending eunuchs with a coin to a
crippled beggar who caught her eye outside the gates.
After the carriages came two covered vans like those used in the United
States to move furniture. They backed up to the entrance of the mosque
and discharged a lot of rugs, chairs, chests and other things that were
carried inside, but I could not find out what they were for or why
they should be delivered just at this time. Then a squad of servants
in long white robes came out of the mosque, washed the marble steps
and dried them carefully with cloths, after which they spread a long
rug that reached from the gravel roadway to the vestibule, so that His
Majesty’s feet might not touch the vulgar earth, and fastened it down
with brass rods. Then appeared a dozen carts loaded with sand, which
was sprinkled along the roadway to absorb the moisture and deaden the
noise of the wheels. When these preparations were complete the notes of
a trumpet were heard in the distance--the signal that the Sultan had
left the palace and was on his way. A white-robed muezzin with a big
turban appeared upon the balcony of the beautiful minaret and gave the
conventional call to prayer, only his cry was louder and the wail more
prolonged than usual. Two columns of pashas and generals in brilliant
uniform, on horseback, appeared around the curve, riding slowly, and
when the leaders reached the steps of the mosque they opened ranks,
facing each other, and formed an aisle for the Sultan to pass through.
They were an additional guard for his safety.
The general of the army, a stern-looking man with an intellectual
forehead, large gray eyes, a Roman nose and a grizzled beard, mounted
upon a magnificent charger, next appeared, surrounded by his staff.
Formerly Osman Pasha, the hero of the Russo-Turkish war, held this
position and attended his sovereign regularly each Friday until his
death. Closely following him, surrounded by a squad of officers running
on foot, came a low carriage drawn by a pair of beautiful white horses,
in which sat Abdul Hamid, the Sultan of Turkey and the successor
of the Prophet of Islam. On the opposite seat was the minister of
war--one more precaution--and it is said that the standing order to
the bodyguard is to shoot down that official instantly in case an
attack is made upon the Sultan. He is held responsible for the safety
of his imperial master, and if the protection provided by him proves
inadequate his punishment is death. Riza Pasha, the present minister
of war, is a large, fat man, so large that the diminutive figure of
the Sultan looked very small by contrast. Abdul Hamid is slight of
stature and weighs only 135 pounds. He looks like the late Jay Gould
and the late Matias Romero, for many years Mexican ambassador to the
United States. He wore a shabby military overcoat and a red fez. His
face is very melancholy. His eyes are large and have a wandering
look. He is said to be the saddest man on earth, and he looks it. An
escort of young officers on foot followed the carriage, the Sultan’s
aides-de-camp and secretaries, and as the pageant proceeded everybody
saluted and bowed. The crowd outside the gates cheered, but were not
very enthusiastic. The Sultan’s eyes took in everything. They surveyed
the scene with extraordinary rapidity. His officers say that he never
overlooks anything that is amiss. He can see where a button is off the
coat of a soldier as he rides by.
The imperial group was followed by an empty phaeton drawn by a pair of
white horses with gold-mounted harness and half-blankets of leopard
skin, and also by five saddle horses--the most beautiful animals you
ever saw--so that the Sultan could choose among them if he should take
the whim to ride back to the palace from the ceremony. As he passed the
pilgrims he bowed to them several times. When he reached the mosque he
stopped upon the steps, turned around, faced them and bowed and bowed
again, while they uttered the peculiar wail that I have described. He
then entered the vestibule, followed by the minister of war and several
of his aides.
While the Sultan was at prayer strips of matting were unrolled upon
the pavement, and the pilgrims, swarming out, kneeled upon it with
their faces toward Mecca and went through their devotions, a priest
leading them. This continued for half an hour or so, until the Sultan
reappeared, got into the phaeton, took the reins in his own hands
and drove back to the palace surrounded by his aides-de-camp and
secretaries on foot, who are compelled to run at full speed to keep up
with him. This pageant is witnessed every Friday, but it is conducted
with so many safeguards and precautions that the military display is
not seen at its full effect.
There is no particular place for the burial of Sultans. Each
Sultan usually builds his own tomb, according to his own taste and
extravagance, but throughout the city may be found several _turbets_,
or tombs, containing the bodies of one or more Sultans with their
favorite wives beside them. The graves are covered with plain cenotaphs
of stuccoed brick four or five feet high and seven or eight feet
long, draped with covers of black broadcloth or velvet, exquisitely
embroidered with silver or gold, and upon them are usually several
cashmere shawls of the very finest texture, fabrics of priceless value,
gifts and tributes from neighboring kings and governors. Distinguished
men, Sultans and others, are buried in the different mosques, the most
sacred being that of Eyub Ansari, the standard-bearer and most intimate
companion of the Prophet Mohammed, who was killed by the Arabs at
the siege of Constantinople, A.D. 668. His burial-place was revealed
in a dream to a celebrated priest during the attack of Mohammed II.
upon Constantinople, and its discovery inflamed the fanaticism of the
Turkish soldiers to such a degree that their next attack upon the city
was irresistible. After the capture Mohammed II. erected the mosque
of Eyub upon the site of the grave, and it is held so sacred that no
Christian has ever been allowed to enter the gates of the walls that
surround it, or even to live in the neighborhood. It is a beautiful
building of white marble, with a large dome, two small domes and many
semi-domes, and two graceful minarets. It stands on the banks of the
Golden Horn about five miles from the city, and upon the accession of
a new Sultan a ceremony corresponding to the coronation of a Christian
sovereign takes place there. After performing an elaborate service of
prayer the new Sultan is girded with the sword of Osman, the founder
of the dynasty, by the superior of the dervishes. The sword of Osman
always lies upon the tomb of Eyub, constantly watched by relays of
the priests and monks who have charge of the temple. The tomb is of
silver gilt and elaborate workmanship, covered with a cloth of gold,
surrounded by a high gilt railing and overhung with many costly lamps.
At the village is a factory in which are made the fezzes worn by the
soldiers of the Turkish army.
[Illustration: A STREET OF CONSTANTINOPLE]
V THE CITY OF THE GRAND TURK
Poets, painters and other people with vivid imaginations and emotional
natures have become ecstatic in describing the city of the Grand Turk,
and while it has unique and exquisite attractions, it is no more
beautiful than New York or San Francisco, Rio de Janeiro, Naples,
Hongkong or half a dozen other cities I might name. There is none of
the barbaric splendor, the gold and purple and blue and scarlet of
Moscow, as seen from the Sparrow Hills; nor the fantastic pagodas
and temples of Kioto or Peking. It has none of the quiet dignity of
Stockholm or the soft beauty of Naples, but the colors that are lacking
and the gorgeousness that is invisible is readily supplied by the
imaginations of tourists, who generally see what they expect to see,
no matter whether it is there or not. You find the same trouble in
Holland and Spain after reading the books of D’Amicis, and at Venice
after studying Ruskin. Perhaps it is the fault of the observer, who
lacks sufficient sentiment, but when you begin to dissect the scene and
separate the actual from the imaginary the criticism of practical minds
is sustained.
The continents of Europe and Asia are separated by the Sea of Marmora,
which is 110 miles long and 40 miles wide in its widest part. At the
west end it is entered through the Hellespont or Dardanelles, a deep
and swift stream or strait, about as wide as the Hudson River. The
place where Leander swam across to visit Hero, his sweetheart, and
where Lord Byron imitated his example, is only about three-quarters of
a mile wide, and although to swim it was a prodigious feat in those
days, it would not be more than an ordinary adventure to many members
of a modern athletic club.
At its east end the Sea of Marmora is connected with the Black Sea by
the Bosphorus, a channel similar to the Hellespont. These streams,
which form a remarkable boundary between the continents, have always
been regarded of great strategic importance, and from the time of
Alexander the Great to Alexander II. of Russia have been fought for by
rival nations.
Where the Bosphorus joins the Sea of Marmora there is a little bay,
about half a mile wide at its mouth, growing gradually narrower and
curving like a cornucopia for about three miles through the hills to a
point where it receives fresh water from a little stream. This bay is
called the Golden Horn. Between the Golden Horn and the Sea of Marmora
is a tongue of land similar in size and shape to Manhattan Island, upon
which New York is built, except that it is higher in the center. This
ridge, or “hog’s back,” rises about five hundred feet above the water,
and at intervals is broken by gullies, several of them very wide and
deep,--gashes that have been cut into the soil by water. This ridge
or tongue of land is occupied by the old city of Stamboul, and upon
the extreme point, corresponding to Battery Park, New York, is located
the Seraglio, a group of palaces occupied by the Sultans before the
nineteenth century. An imposing marble gate, by which the grounds are
entered, is the ancient Sublime Porte, and from it is derived the title
by which the Turkish government is often referred to in history and
diplomatic discussions. The modern Sublime Porte is a still more
imposing marble gate which leads into an inclosure where are situated
the palace of the grand vizier, the ministry of finance and other
official departments of the government.
[Illustration: The Sublime Porte, Mosque of St. Sophia THE SERAGLIO,
CONSTANTINOPLE]
Upon the opposite side of the Bosphorus, situated to Stamboul as
Jersey City is to New York, is Scutari, a city of residences, schools,
hospitals, military barracks, carpet factories and other manufacturing
establishments, with a population of about 50,000. It is surrounded by
a group of fertile hills, which in the spring and summer are covered
with brilliant foliage.
Upon the opposite side of the Golden Horn a steep hill, rising directly
from the water, is occupied by the city of Galata, corresponding
to Brooklyn. Its houses and shops are arranged in terraces along
precipitous slopes to a height of five hundred feet; and on the other
side of the crest, which slopes to the Golden Horn, is the city of
Pera, which means “beyond”--that is, the place beyond the hill.
This completes the group of four cities, which, combined, are called
Constantinople, and from the bridge which connects Stamboul and Galata,
or at any other point between, they are spread out before the spectator
like an audience in an amphitheater, rising in irregular terraces and
showing patches of whitewashed walls among unpainted, wood-colored
houses, shingled roofs and occasionally a roof of tile. Here and there
appear squatty domes like warts, queer-looking towers and slender
minarets, which are peculiar to Constantinople and are its greatest
attraction. The domes indicate mosques and occupy the summits of the
hills. Their ugliness heightens the beauty and grace of the minarets
by which they are surrounded. The minarets take the place of church
steeples and the campaniles or bell-towers that are usually attached
to cathedrals in southern Europe. They look very slender and very tall,
rising often to the height of three hundred feet--delicate, beautiful
shafts, perhaps twenty feet in diameter at the bottom and gradually
tapering to a needle point at the top, upon which a golden crescent is
always placed. About the center, overlooking the roofs of the houses
and the adjoining streets, are balconies, sometimes only one, sometimes
two, and, on the taller minarets three, protected by beautifully carved
balustrades and sustained by brackets, from which the muezzin calls
the Mohammedans to prayer. In Constantinople most of the minarets are
of marble and other stones, as they were built by rich Sultans as
monuments to their own memory, but elsewhere such structures are of
brick, coated with stucco, and kept neatly whitewashed. Whatever may
be said of the Moslem, his houses of worship always show evidences of
careful and constant attention. You seldom see a slovenly mosque and
seldom a mosque out of repair. They set an example to other religious
sects in this, as in several other matters.
The view from any place of observation will comprehend nearly all of
the city of Constantinople except, of course, those portions which
are on the opposite side of the ridges. I do not know of any city of
which so much can be viewed from a single point. Standing upon the
bridge that crosses the Golden Horn, one can easily see the abodes of
two-thirds of the population spread out before him. But the view is
monotonous. There is a lack of variety about the architecture which is
very tiresome. One house differs from another so little that the eye
becomes weary and rests gratefully upon the picturesque towers and
the beautiful minarets that rise here and there in striking relief.
Several conspicuous buildings stand out boldly. These are the embassies
of Russia, Germany and other European Powers on the Galata side and the
government offices in Stamboul. The largest buildings, and those which
are most conspicuous in every direction, are occupied as barracks by
the Sultan’s army. There are no parks, no promenades, no amusements,
no theaters except one which is insignificant, and no entertainments
or diversions for the people except a few low-class vaudeville
performances.
The streets are irregular, narrow and crooked and wind up in serpentine
or zigzag fashion to the top of the town. It is evident that they
originally followed the trails of goats, which, unlike the buffalo,
are poor engineers. The straight streets are so steep that no load can
be hauled up them, and many of them are actually stairways, with small
shops on either side. In building the city no grading was done and
no filling. The natural topography was allowed to remain unaltered,
which, while it adds to the picturesqueness, is a permanent embargo on
business. Horses cannot be used for transportation purposes because the
streets are too narrow and too steep and the pavements are too rough.
There are a few carts and a good many donkeys with panniers upon their
backs, but heavy freight, like lumber, bales of merchandise and such
things are carried from one place to another by men. It is a common
thing to see eight, twelve or sixteen men with long poles staggering
under a load of dry goods, hardware, iron rails or timbers for the
construction of houses. They can carry their cargo only a little way
without stopping to rest, and as long as they are engaged, block the
entire street. No carriage can pass them, and even a donkey finds it
difficult to creep by. You will appreciate the difficulty of doing
business with these embarrassments, and will not be surprised that the
commerce and internal trade of Constantinople is less than that of
the average German or French city of one-fourth its population. More
business is done in New York in one day than in Constantinople during
the entire 365.
There are no sidewalks except upon a few of the principal streets,
and they are very narrow. The houses are high--five, six and seven
stories--without elevators, and are divided into tenements, the
ground floor being occupied in most cases for business purposes. The
architecture is indifferent where it is not ugly. Most of the city is
built of wood, unpainted, and the cheapest kind of construction; much
of it being in an advanced state of dilapidation. Some of the houses
in the principal residence quarter remind me of those on the West Side
in Chicago, the wooden façades being covered with “ginger-bread work,”
balconies, loggias and other architectural frills. In the Turkish
quarter there is even less of architectural interest. Only occasionally
can a Moorish design be seen or any building of the oriental type.
You can follow some of the longest streets from one end to the other
without finding a window or a door or a roof or a balcony that looks
like what you expected to see in Turkey. When the lower sash of the
window is covered with fixed lattice work you may know that it is
some Turk’s harem. The houses occupied by Greeks, Armenians, Jews
and Europeans have ordinary windows and no blinds, and as only about
one-fourth of the population of Constantinople--the estimates are
generally less--are Turks, and three-fourths are foreigners, you
should not expect anything but what you see, and must swallow your
disappointment.
There are other reasons, in addition to the topography, why the
houses are so cheaply and indifferently built. All foreigners are in
Constantinople on sufferance and the investment of money is unsafe.
When a foreigner erects a house he takes great risks and naturally
does not wish to spend any more upon it than is absolutely necessary.
Furthermore, an evidence of prosperity would immediately attract the
attention of the officials, who are all Turks, and the assessment for
taxation would at once be raised. The Turkish officials receive little
if any compensation from the government, and are obliged to turn into
the treasury for the use of the Sultan and his court certain sums of
money annually. This money and whatever they need for themselves must
be raised by whatever measures they can manage, and, as they have
autocratic powers, it is easy for them to make good their quota. If
they see a man, particularly an Armenian or a Jew--they do not care
so much about Greeks--showing signs of prosperity and wealth, they
make preparations to bleed him, and the methods they adopt are usually
successful. The population of Stamboul around the Seraglio is mostly
Turkish, and beyond that Armenian and Jewish. The inhabitants of Galata
are mostly Greeks, and those of Pera are English, French, Germans and
subjects of other European Powers.
Landing at Constantinople is an exciting experience. The ships anchor
out in the stream, and passengers, with their luggage, are taken ashore
in rowboats. No traveler is allowed to land without a passport. If he
is a resident of Turkey he must have a permit granted by the police
officials of the town in which he lives. If he is a foreigner his
passport must be viséd by the Turkish consul or minister at the port of
his departure.
When the steamer comes to anchor the gangplank is at once surrounded by
a motley crowd of boatmen, howling like a lot of demons and grabbing
at the luggage of the passengers. If you have not a courier to look
after you and your belongings the best thing is to give yourself up to
Cook, the traveler’s friend and protector. If you have written ahead to
engage apartments at any of the hotels a dragoman, or interpreter, will
be sent down to meet you and help you through the custom-house, but
Cook’s men always come aboard, not only at Constantinople but at all
the eastern ports, and are a blessing to the inexperienced.
As each boatload passes towards the landing-place it is stopped in
midstream by a policeman seated in the stern of a Turkish _caique_, or
canoe, who counts the number of passengers and the number of pieces of
baggage. What this is done for I was unable to discover, but the most
reasonable theory is that it is intended as a checking system for the
police, in order that no stranger shall enter the country without their
knowledge.
The guidebooks, which are closely censored by the Turkish government,
so that they may not contain anything offensive or treasonable to
the Sultan, state very plainly that couriers and dragomans from the
hotels can “arrange” with the customs officers so that the inspection
of luggage will be only formal. The only thing that they are after
is books. Their orders are very strict in that respect. They are
positively forbidden to pass any books, newspapers, manuscripts or
sealed parcels, all of which must be submitted to examination by the
censor, who destroys all works pertaining to the Mussulman religion,
the personality of the Sultan, the foreign relations or the internal
affairs of Turkey. Guns, revolvers and that sort of thing, which are
prohibited in most countries, are admitted without objection in Turkey.
We were advised to conceal all our guidebooks, notebooks, manuscripts
and that sort of thing in the bottom of our trunks in case of an
emergency, although our dragoman, or guide, said he did not think any
of them would be opened. When they were landed and carried into the
dilapidated and dirty old wooden building of one story used for a
custom-house, all the trunks, bags and rug rolls were arranged in a row
upon a bench and the dragoman proceeded calmly to negotiate with the
inspectors. How much he paid to pass them I do not know, but it was not
a large sum, and we were soon sent on our way rejoicing.
The baggage of passengers leaving Constantinople is examined quite
as closely as that which comes in, and the same process occurs. The
customs officers often demand larger bribes from outgoing than incoming
travelers, and will threaten to detain their luggage if the money is
not paid.
The same corruption and the same practices exist in other branches of
the custom-house, only to a greater extent. Imported merchandise is
seldom inspected. Merchants doing business in Constantinople usually
have a regular arrangement with the customs officials to admit their
goods without examination upon the payment of certain sums, which cover
both the customs duties and the bribes. These practices must be known
to the higher officials, because nearly all of them have been promoted
to the positions they occupy, and they require a certain amount of
revenue from each inspector or appraiser every month. The latter must
raise it the best way he can. There is a regular tariff, of course,
and fixed rates of duty for different kinds of merchandise, but it is
seldom observed, even in the case of strangers.
All travelers in Turkey must have _tezkerehs_, or traveling permits,
which are granted upon the application of the minister or consul of the
country from which they come, and are an acknowledgment on the part of
the Ottoman authorities of their responsibility for the safety of the
bearer. Natives have ordinary passports, but no man can land at a port
or buy a steamship or railway ticket without showing a document of this
kind, which not only is a protection to the traveler, but also gives
the police authorities an opportunity to watch suspicious persons.
The United States diplomatic and consular officials in Turkey receive
almost daily applications for certificates from Armenians who claim to
be naturalized, but there has been so much fraudulent naturalization
that they no longer issue them unless they are satisfied that the
applicant is a bona fide citizen of the United States stopping
temporarily in Turkey. Certain Armenians in New York, San Francisco
and other cities for years did a fraudulent naturalization business,
and for large fees obtained papers for Armenians in Turkey who had
never been in the United States. It is an easy thing for a man to
make application in any of the courts under any name, and again make
a second or third or fourth or repeated applications under other
names later without being detected. When the papers are issued they
are forwarded to Turkey to the persons whose names they bear, and
the latter use them whenever necessary. Not long ago such fraudulent
papers were abundant in Turkey, but many of them have been taken from
the holders and retained by the United States officials. When a man
claiming to be a naturalized citizen of New York cannot tell the name
of the street upon which he lives and does not know the location of
Brooklyn or Jersey City; who never heard of Washington, Grant, McKinley
or Roosevelt, and cannot give the name of the long street which runs
from one end of New York to the other, it is pretty certain that he is
not entitled to the protection of our government, but has abused its
hospitality by obtaining naturalization papers under false pretenses.
Constantinople is the seat of the Sheik-ul-Islam, the ecclesiastical
head of the Moslem faith, and also the seat of the Patriarchs of the
Greek and the Armenian churches, and of the chief rabbi of the Jews.
Every other religion has its representatives among the population,
which is more cosmopolitan than that of any other city. It is claimed
that there are in Constantinople representatives of every nation and
every tribe upon the globe, and that every language is spoken. It is
common to see signs written in eight or nine languages on the fronts
of the retail shops. These races and religions are all more or less
antagonistic. There is nothing to unite them. Each suspects the other
of treachery. They have no relations, except in trade, and in their
commercial dealings they are all trying to cheat each other.
Everybody lives in a state of constant apprehension, in a vague dread
of danger, and there is good reason for it, because the hand of Ishmael
is still against every man.
No census has ever been taken of Constantinople, and the population is
unknown. Estimates range all the way from 875,000 to 1,250,000, and the
latter figure is probably somewhere near the truth, judging from the
dense manner in which the people are huddled together and the enormous
area covered by the city. The floating population is very large.
Thousands of men are constantly coming and going, spending a portion of
each season in the city and the remainder of the year in the provinces
of Turkey or in some neighboring state.
According to religious belief the population is supposed to be divided
somewhat as follows:
Moslems 400,000
Greeks 175,000
Armenians 250,000
Jews 75,000
Bulgarians 6,000
Greek Catholics 1,200
Roman Catholics 7,500
Protestants 2,000
Miscellaneous 150,000
The city is divided into ten municipal circles or wards, which,
combined, constitute a vilayet, whose affairs are directed by a
_prefet_, assisted by a _mejlis_, or council, and a large staff of
officials. Each municipal circle has a director and is subdivided into
precincts which are governed by _mudirs_. The _prefet_, or governor, is
a despot, responsible to no one but the Sultan and exercising absolute
and unquestioned authority over the lives and property of his subjects.
Men disappear and their property is confiscated at his orders, and no
questions can be asked. He regulates the taxes, receives the funds
and disposes of them without a question. The _mudirs_ and other
subordinates carry out his instructions and trust him to stand between
them and the Sultan. The priests and monks of the Moslem Church must be
taken into consideration always, as they are the most powerful body in
Constantinople, and their influence over the people is undisputed. The
Sheik-ul-Islam, the head of the church, stands next to the Sultan in
power and authority and the _prefet_ and _mudirs_ are careful never to
offend him.
The Armenians at one time were the most important part of the business
community, but since the massacres in 1896, when at least 5,000 of that
sect were butchered and their property looted and confiscated, they
have been exceedingly cautious, and at present very few of the 250,000
Armenians in Constantinople are doing business under their own names.
Some of them have gone into partnership with Turks, paying the latter
a certain percentage of the profits of their business for protection
and the use of their names. Many of the old shops of Armenian merchants
now have Turkish signs over the doors, for which privilege, however,
the owners have to pay a heavy blackmail. Since the massacres every
Armenian has been discharged from the employ of the government and
very generally from the employment of private Turks. Before 1896 and
as far back as anyone can remember, Armenians held the most important
subordinate positions under the government because of their executive
ability, particularly in the financial department, where they are very
strong; but now the vindictiveness of the Turk against them is so
violent that the name of Armenia has been stricken off the map and that
province is known as Upper Turkey. The custom-house officers will not
permit the importation of maps bearing the name Armenia. If any such
are found they are confiscated and burned, and every book containing
the name Armenia is blotted by the censor.
The Greeks, who are next in numbers, are also business men and now have
the largest share of the mercantile trade in their own quarter of the
city. Although Turkey was recently at war with Greece and the rivalry
between the two countries is bitter, there is no hatred or prejudice
against them. The same is true of the Jews. Both races live at peace
with their Turkish neighbors, and are allowed to worship God in their
own way without interference, and are never compelled to endure such
persecutions as have been suffered by the Armenians for centuries. The
explanation of this is that Greeks and Jews never meddle in politics,
while the Armenians are continually doing so. Furthermore, the province
of Armenia has been in a state of discontent for many years, and
its inhabitants are constantly exciting revolutions against their
oppressors--usually with very bad judgment and no possible prospect
of success. Palestine is just as much a Turkish province as Armenia,
but its inhabitants submit to the despotism under which they are born,
while the Armenians will not.
Half the Greeks and Armenians in Turkey have lost their own languages
because they have been forbidden to speak them. Without practice they
have forgotten their native tongues. The Jews have been more kindly
treated. The Armenians are compelled to worship in secret. Greek
churches can be found in every part of the Ottoman Empire as public as
the Mohammedan mosques, and no Jewish synagogue is ever interfered with
by Moslem mobs. It is the Armenians that they attack exclusively.
The ferry-boats which run to all parts of the Bosphorus are very much
like those on the Thames in London and on the Seine in Paris. They
have time-tables, which are posted in convenient places and published
in the newspapers, but are seldom observed; no one knows why, except
that it is the nature of the Turk. A boat which is advertised to start
at nine o’clock may go ten minutes before or twenty minutes after. The
guidebooks warn people not to rely upon the published announcements.
The boats to Brussa, a neighboring town much frequented by tourists,
the guidebook says, leave daily, “some time between 7 a.m. and 8:30
p.m., according to circumstances.” In other words, their movements
depend upon the cargo, the number of passengers and the whim of the
captain.
The railway management is very much the same. While I was in
Constantinople, in the spring of 1902, a small section of the track
between that city and Budapest was washed away. The trains going west
returned to Constantinople, but the trains coming east from Budapest
and Vienna were not notified of the obstruction and were allowed to
start as usual and accumulated at the washout, where there were no
accommodations for the passengers, no place for them to eat or sleep.
When the cars were finally sent back to Adrianople, the nearest town,
the passengers were compelled to pay full fare to that point. The mails
for several days were allowed to accumulate at the washout and were
held there for nearly three weeks, when they might have been taken
back a few miles to Adrianople and sent around by another route, via
Bucharest, but no one seemed to have thought of it, although such
accidents and interruptions of traffic occur every year. Passengers by
the Orient express, which is the most expensive train in the world,
were allowed to leave Constantinople and were carried to the washout.
Tickets were sold to London, Paris, Berlin, Vienna and other distant
points and full sleeping-car fare was collected and all tickets are
limited to one day--the date stamped upon them. The railway company
would not extend them or refund the money or give rebates, and even
compelled the passengers who were carried to the blockade to pay, not
only the regular fare, but what is termed a “speed supplement” charged
upon express trains, and also the full sleeping-car rates. Those who
attempted to secure a rebate or the return of their money were calmly
informed that it was not the practice of the railway company to redeem
its tickets, and persons who started for London and other places by
the first train after the break was repaired were compelled to buy new
tickets and pay again the regular sleeping-car charge and the “speed
supplement.”
A gentleman who purchased a ticket from Vienna to Constantinople was
compelled to turn back at Sofia, about half way on his journey, and
asked the railway officials to redeem the unused portion. They refused
to do so on the ground that he had given no reason why it should be
done. He replied at once that he had been met by a telegram stating
illness in his family which required him to postpone his journey and
return to Vienna, and asked that the money he had paid for the ticket
be refunded or the time limit be extended, so that he could use it at
some future date. The railway officials calmly replied that they did
not consider the reason given sufficient.
VI SCENES IN CONSTANTINOPLE
Experienced travelers have often asserted that the representatives of
a larger number of races and more picturesque costumes can be seen
upon the bridges of Constantinople than anywhere else in the world,
and those who have watched the throngs that are continually passing to
and fro on foot, on horseback, on donkeys, in carriages and in sedan
chairs are inclined to believe the assertion. There are two bridges
across the Golden Horn, about one mile apart. Both are pontoons, strips
of planks laid upon iron floats or caissons, and were intended to be
temporary. The erection of a permanent bridge across the Golden Horn
between Stamboul, the principal and most populous Mohammedan quarter,
and Galata, where the foreigners live, has been frequently proposed
and plans have been repeatedly submitted, but no engineer or bridge
company will undertake the job without a large payment in advance, and
there is never any money in the Sultan’s treasury. Several companies
have been organized to construct bridges, but have never been able to
obtain permission, and a multitude of promoters have sought concessions
for that purpose from time to time, but there is no sign of a permanent
bridge. The old floats still remain and answer every purpose, not
only being a means of communication for a million people, but landing
places for ferry boats, pleasure steamers, private yachts and other
small craft upon the Bosphorus. The caissons are immense rectangular
casks of iron sixty by thirty by twenty feet in size. They are chained
together, with passages between so as to give free flow to the water.
About the middle of the channel there is an arrangement by which two of
the floats can be detached and brought around out of the way so as to
allow the passage of vessels, but this always was a very slow process
and interrupted traffic for half an hour or more. Hence a regular
time is appointed for the passage of vessels, and from four to six
o’clock every morning the gateway is opened, and those who do not avail
themselves of that opportunity have to wait twenty-four hours. Upon the
caissons a frame of timbers sixty feet wide has been laid and planked
over. Sidewalks for foot passengers are reserved, but pedestrians
take the roadway quite as often, and from six o’clock in the morning
until nearly midnight the bridge is thronged by two endless streams
of humanity passing both ways. At either entrance are groups of toll
collectors wearing long white tunics to distinguish them from the rest
of the public, and they hold out their hands to receive the coppers
from people who walk and people who ride. Everybody has to pay except
the high officials of the government--usually great, fat pashas, who
are identified by the livery of their coachmen. The toll is about one
cent for foot passengers, two cents for mounted persons and ten cents
for carriages.
It would take many pages to describe the different classes of people
that may be seen upon this wonderful bridge, and the catalogue would
contain representatives of every race and religion under the sun. Their
costumes afford a very interesting study. Those who are familiar with
the oriental races can identify them readily and tell you where every
man comes from. Many of the women are veiled, with long mantles and
black shawls over their heads. Some of them wear a sort of mackintosh
belted in, altogether unlovely and ungraceful, which is the intention.
The idea of wearing a veil is to make a woman as hideous as possible,
and the Turk succeeds in that purpose, if in no other. The ladies
who are not veiled are either Greeks, Armenians, Jewesses or other
foreigners. All the women of Constantinople, except Turkish women, wear
European garments and ordinary hats. Turkish women of position always
ride attended by a eunuch or a mounted escort, because it is not proper
for them to appear alone in a public place, even if they are veiled,
and the etiquette of the country forbids men to accost veiled women.
If such a thing should be noticed there would be a mob in an instant,
for every Moslem in sight would consider it an insult to his mother,
his wife and his sister--in fact to all their sex. Few men dare assist
a veiled woman even if she should stumble, or even pick up a package
if she should drop one, for fear his courtesy should be misconstrued.
The first caution offered to strangers in Constantinople concerns this
matter of national etiquette, and it is often wisely bestowed. To take
no notice whatever of veiled women is the safest thing a stranger in
Constantinople can do. Women who do not wear veils are not included
in the category, for they are not Mohammedans and may be treated with
ordinary courtesy. Some of the Armenian women are beautiful and are
richly dressed. The Greek women have dark eyes, thin lips, and dress
with Parisian taste. In certain parts of Constantinople very few
veiled women are to be seen. On the Grand Rue de Pera, the principal
shopping-place of the European quarter, where most of the tradesmen
are French and German, they seldom appear.
Each side of the bridge is lined with peddlers, selling all sorts of
things and crying their wares in stentorian tones, and beggars who
crouch under the railing, holding out their hands in a piteous manner
and appealing for baksheesh. The priests of the Mohammedan Church wear
white wrappings around their fezzes as a badge of their profession.
Persians wear black fezzes, often made of lamb’s wool or astrakhan,
while the other races have different head-dresses. The Greeks wear
stiffly starched white petticoats of cotton about the length of the
skirts of a ballet-dancer, with white leggings, embroidered vests and
jackets with long, flowing sleeves. The dervishes wear long black
caftans or cloaks, which reach to their heels like the frock of a
Catholic priest. You see all sorts of priests. They seem to number next
to the soldiers, who constitute almost one-half of the passengers to be
seen upon the bridge.
Many of the carriages and the horses are fine, although not equal to
those to be seen in St. Petersburg. The mounted officers dash through
the crowd in the most reckless manner, without regard to the lame or
the lazy, and the donkey drivers do not seem to care whether they run
over people or not, although they are extremely careful not to injure
the mangy mongrels that lie around on the bridge, as they do everywhere
else. Upon the bridge can be bought from peddlers almost anything a
human being can want, because they are constantly passing back and
forth, offering their wares. The number of peddlers in Constantinople
is estimated at 75,000.
The water-front of Constantinople, instead of being devoted to docks,
warehouses and other facilities for shipping and commerce, is occupied
by the palaces of the Sultan and the pashas. There is one short quay
reserved for the landing and embarkation of goods, not larger than
a single pier in New York harbor, or the space between two of the
bridges over the Chicago River, and every article of merchandise that
is brought into Constantinople or is shipped out of the city, including
the luggage of passengers, must be handled in that narrow space. A
little narrow-gauge manpower railway track runs along the edge of the
water and terminates at the custom-house, through which all goods must
pass. There are no bonded warehouses, and imported merchandise must be
taken out at once upon arrival and the duty paid.
Upon the graves of the dead in the Turkish cemeteries little vessels of
water are placed for the benefit of the birds, and some of the marble
tombs have basins chiseled out for the same purpose, the superstition
being that birds carry messages about the living to the dead, and,
like everybody else in Turkey, are suspected of being spiteful unless
something is done to win their favor.
Upon entering a Mohammedan mosque the hat is kept on, but the shoes
must be taken off, for “the spot on which thou standest is holy
ground.” Hence the Turks have their boots made with double bottoms. A
sort of slip like the new-fashioned rubber sandals fits over the toe
as far as the instep and the sole of the shoe and is held on by a band
passing around the heel. A little brass point projects at the heel,
which is convenient in kicking them off.
The Turks use beads for conversational purposes as well as to count
their prayers. The ordinary ritual of the Mohammedan faith requires
thirty-six prayers and sixteen quotations from the Koran, and the
full ritual embraces ninety-nine prayers. If a mistake is made it is
necessary for the worshiper to begin at the beginning and go over the
whole list again. Hence he is very careful to check off each prayer
that he utters and each quotation that he repeats. Most of the prayers
are very short, however, and consist of the same meaning expressed in
different phrases: “Allah is great. I testify that there is no God but
Allah, and Mohammed is his prophet.”
At several points in Constantinople saddle-horses as well as carriages
are kept for hire, and they are much more convenient for certain parts
of the city, where the streets are narrow and the grades are steep. The
owner or the man in charge sends a boy along to bring the horse back.
The number of people who speak English is quite remarkable, but all
orientals are great linguists. They seem to have a faculty for picking
up languages that is not enjoyed by Anglo-Saxons.
Turkish rugs are sold by the bale as they enter the custom-house, and
the purchaser has no opportunity to examine them. He must take them as
they come--good, bad and indifferent, old and new, coarse and fine,
perfect and ragged. The week’s arrivals are usually put up at auction
on Monday morning. The greatest number of rugs comes from the interior
of Asia and is brought down to the ports of the Mediterranean and Black
Sea by caravans of camels and shipped to Smyrna and Constantinople,
which are the great markets. They are packed so many to the bale by
sizes, and if the purchaser knows the name of the seller and the place
from which they have been shipped, it gives him a slight basis upon
which he can estimate their value; but it is always more or less of a
lottery and hence the rugs bring much less than their actual worth. The
sellers might make a great deal more money if they were not bound by
this ancient custom.
The dogs and the firemen of Constantinople are famous, and always
excite a great deal of interest among tourists. There are two popular
errors regarding the dogs--that they are ferocious and dangerous, and
that they are the city scavengers and have a contract for cleaning the
streets, which last is equally false. The dogs are wretched, harmless,
cowardly curs, which never bite unless abused or driven into a corner,
and then only in self-defense. They bark continually, however,
particularly in the night, and newcomers will be disturbed in their
rest for two or three nights until they become accustomed to them. In
this respect, as in several others, they are great nuisances.
So far as street cleaning is concerned they undoubtedly contribute more
filth and unhealthiness because their work as scavengers is limited
to rooting and scratching around for morsels of food in the offal and
other débris, and thus they keep it stirred up when it would be less
offensive if it were let alone. In that offal the dogs find their
subsistence, and they number tens of thousands. Thus their existence
is precarious. Each street has its own band, which is very jealous of
intruders, and when you hear a tumultuous barking you may be sure that
some stranger has strayed into a section where he does not belong and
is being evicted. The dogs are ownerless. There may be a few high-bred
animals kept in the houses by private owners, but the great mass of
them have no home but the street and no owners but the public. They
are allowed to live for superstitious reasons. The Moslem inhabitants
look upon them as a religious institution, as the protégés of the
prophet, and while they do not give them any care they would not injure
them under any circumstances for fear of bringing misfortune upon
themselves. A Mohammedan hackman or cartman would sooner drive around
the block than run over a dog. He will get down from his box and wake
up a cur that lies sleeping in the middle of the street rather than
drive over it, but usually flicks his whip gently to remind it that it
is in the way. The animal, being awakened, yawns and stretches itself
in an indifferent manner and then slowly moves towards the sidewalk.
The children are taught to be merciful to them and to believe that they
are under the special protection of the prophet.
The butchers throw their scraps into the street every morning at a
certain hour, and the dogs that belong in that locality are always
on hand to snatch their share of the morsels. Bakers cut up stale
loaves and toss them out in a similar way. Hotel and boarding-house
keepers are equally thoughtful in putting out their garbage cans,
but nobody ever offers the dogs shelter or attempts to cure them
of the mange, with which the majority are afflicted. Many of them
are repulsive sights. They live entirely upon the streets, each dog
having some shelter of its own during the storms of winter, where it
leaves its litters of puppies until they are old enough to look out
for themselves. When they die their bodies are left lying in the road
or are kicked out of the way by pedestrians. They are mostly yellow,
coarse-haired, wolfish-looking beasts, with long tails and pointed
ears. The guides say that the number is diminishing because the waste
places in which they formerly basked and bred are being rapidly built
over; but other authorities claim that this is a mistake and that the
number is increasing. A stranger would assume that the latter is the
case, because they seem so numerous and occupy so large a part of the
narrow sidewalks and streets. It is not safe to kick them out of the
way because you would be sure to disturb a colony of fleas which might
take refuge upon your own person, even if the cur did not turn and
snap at you. Old residents will tell you that it is not good policy
to kick a dog, because some Moslem might see the act and resent it.
The natives are so accustomed to their presence in the streets and to
their nocturnal barking and howling that they take them as a matter of
course, like the other nuisances of the city.
The animals have a high degree of intelligence. They know their rights
and insist upon them, and the manner in which each cur holds and
defends his own territory is remarkable. The occupants of the same
street never quarrel with each other, no matter how numerous or how
hungry they may be, but lie curled up in bunches on the street corners
in a most affectionate manner. But let a strange animal appear in sight
and every one is on the alert instantly. There is a scurrying of feet,
a series of low growls, a rush towards the intruder and then a tumult
of barking and yelping and shrieks of agony from the injured. It may
end in a dogicide. It usually does. The intruder is not often allowed
to escape alive and his mangled body will be found afterwards in the
roadway.
Abdul Azziz, predecessor of the present Sultan, was a great reformer
and, among other reforms, proposed to exterminate the dogs. Policemen
were sent around with poisoned meat, which was scattered freely
throughout the city, and the next day the streets were blocked by
dead dogs, which were not removed, but their bodies were allowed to
lie and fester in the sun. Instead of attributing the epidemic to the
unquestionable cause, the superstitious Turks construed it as the
penalty pronounced upon them by the prophet for the massacre of the
innocent. Since then no further attempts have been made to exterminate
the curs, which have been held more sacred than ever. There is a story
to account for the presence of the dogs in Constantinople. It is said
that in the Middle Ages their barking awoke the garrison of the city
and warned it of the approach of an enemy, so that it was able to make
a successful defense. At that time, the legend goes, the reigning
Sultan issued an order requiring all dogs to be held sacred, as the
prophet had made them the vehicle of the Divine will.
[Illustration: FIRE BRIGADE, CONSTANTINOPLE]
Sometimes I think the firemen are more interesting than the dogs. Fires
are of frequent occurrence, and often very destructive, because the
greater part of the old city is composed of wooden dwellings, which
are very dry and burn like tinder when a flame is once started. Great
precautions, from the Turkish point of view, are taken to protect them,
but they are only ludicrous to those who are familiar with modern fire
departments in our cities. Watchmen keep a lookout day and night from
three commanding spots which overlook the roofs of the entire city--the
Galata tower in the foreign section, the Serasker tower in Stamboul,
the Mohammedan city, and another tower upon a high hill on the Asiatic
side of the Bosphorus. Cannon are fired from the last-mentioned place
as a warning to the public and a notice to the firemen, but at the
other towers large balls made of bamboo and painted a brilliant red
are hung out in the daytime, and a red balloon at night with a number
of flags of different designs, like signals from a ship, which indicate
to the firemen the section of the city in which their services are
needed.
Upon these towers watchmen with telescopes are always on guard,
walking around the balcony and carefully inspecting every roof within
the limits of their vision. When a suspicious sign is discovered
there is a consultation, and, if it appears to be a fire, half-naked
runners are started to give an alarm through the streets and the
signals are hung out. The runners yell at the top of their voices the
locality where the fire has been discovered. The firemen, who are in
waiting at their various headquarters, strip themselves to a shirt
and a pair of drawers, seize hand engines, which are carried upon
their shoulders, and start at full tilt for the point of danger. They
are spurred to a high rate of speed because of rivalry between the
different organizations. The first to arrive is apt to get the job of
extinguishing the conflagration, but as they receive no pay from the
government, the owner of the house must bargain with them and make the
best terms possible before they will do anything to save his house.
Usually the neighbors, whose property is also in danger, are required
to contribute baksheesh before the pumping begins.
The engine is a small affair, which can easily be carried upon the
shoulders of four men running at a high rate of speed. Others carry the
hose, while the nozzle is handled like the baton of a drum-major by
the captain of the company, who leads the group of runners through the
streets crying “_Yangin var!_” in brazen tones. A company on its way
to a fire is a novel sight, and everybody rushes out to join in the
excitement. When the scene is reached the confusion is even greater.
Men, women and children plunge into the burning building to seize and
save or steal whatever can be reached. The police usually stand by
and watch the spectacle with admirable composure. They never think of
interfering, because their religion teaches them that misfortunes of
all kinds are penalties imposed by the prophet to punish sins, and
hence the houses of none but wicked people ever catch fire.
Pigeons are sacred in Constantinople. No true Moslem will kill a
pigeon, and in certain parts of the city they are found by the
millions. One of the most sacred temples is called the Pigeon Mosque,
because of the number of birds that live there. They are so numerous
that the air is often dark with them. Rich people leave legacies to
pay for their food. At all of the mosques peddlers are found who sell
corn for the faithful to offer to the birds, and it is regarded as a
religious sacrifice. The superstition against killing pigeons is based
upon the belief that the Holy Ghost inhabits the body of a pigeon, and
none can be put to death without a fear of sacrificing the right one.
The pigeons at the Bayezidiyeh, or Pigeon Mosque, which was built in
1497 by Sultan Bayezid, are said to be the offspring of a pair bought
by him from a poor woman in the market near by and presented to the
priests of the mosque. These pigeons are under the special protection
of several priests, who feed them regularly, and every Friday at
eight o’clock in the morning distribute food to the dogs that live in
that quarter. The scene is very noisy and exciting. The dogs know the
dates and appear promptly upon the appointed morning every week, but
woe to the stranger cur that attempts to sneak in for a share. He is
disposed of without mercy, for the legitimate tenants of the district
know each other as accurately as if each had been furnished with a
copy of a census. This food is distributed in obedience to a legacy
left by a Turkish tailor, who died sixty or seventy years ago with a
provision in his will for feeding the dogs on Friday, which is the
Mohammedan Sabbath. Beggars, hungry, ragged and diseased, often appear
when the dogs are fed and try to snatch morsels of meat from them if
possible, but it takes a great deal of courage to do so. The uproar
is tremendous. For half a mile around the barking and yelping can be
heard, but the inhabitants of the neighborhood are accustomed to it.
At the mosque of St. Andrew, Constantinople, which is in charge of
the dervishes, hangs an iron chain which is said to have the power
of detecting deceit and dishonesty, and believers who are accused of
theft or falsehood often demand the right to be tried by that test,
which is usually accorded them. If they are guilty it is indicated by
the vibration of the iron. If they are innocent the chain remains at
rest. A curious story is told of a Jewish debtor who falsely claimed
to have paid his obligations and demanded to be tried by the chain.
Before taking his station he asked his creditor to hold his cane, and
handed him a hollow staff, in which was concealed the exact amount of
money that he owed him. The chain, recognizing that the money had been
passed, declared him innocent--which showed that it is influenced by
technicalities like many other courts.
There are in Constantinople one hundred and eighty khans--immense
stone barracks of two stories covering entire blocks and inclosing
square courts which are usually ornamented with trees and fountains.
These khans are all very ancient, the oldest having been erected in
the time of Constantine and still being used. They are intended for
the entertainment and accommodation of traveling merchants, who are
provided by the government with lodging and sample-rooms in which to
display their wares. Each khan is in charge of a steward, who is the
master of everything under its roof, the representative of the Sultan
and the government, and the superintendent of a gang of workmen who are
employed about the place. A merchant from Persia, Russia, Turkestan or
any other part of the earth, having goods for sale, may apply to the
steward, and, if an apartment is vacant, is furnished with one or more
rooms in which he can sleep and live and receive his customers for a
certain length of time without paying rent. If there is no demand for
quarters he may retain the rooms indefinitely. Attached to each khan
are restaurants and eating-houses at which the occupants may live, but
many of them prefer to cook their own meals. Some bring servants with
them. The khans are the scenes of constant bustle, dealers in all kinds
of merchandise continually passing in and out, and although most of
them are dark, damp and uncomfortable, they have contributed a great
deal to the commercial importance and activity of the city. Men from
the country who are in the habit of trading in Constantinople always
go to the same khan, where they are known and expected, just as we
have our favorite hotels in the cities we are accustomed to visit. But
the khans are open to all merchants, of whatever quality, condition,
country or religion.
The tradesmen and artisans of Constantinople still maintain guilds,
which prevailed elsewhere throughout Europe for centuries until modern
methods of commerce and industry caused them to dissolve by making them
unnecessary. The primitive condition of affairs in Constantinople,
however, makes them of supreme importance, and they are maintained
with the greatest energy and exactness. There were formerly about six
hundred different guilds, but by consolidation the number has been
reduced to two hundred and seventy-five, which are registered at the
office of the minister of the interior and represent a membership of
two hundred thousand. They are managed very much like the trades unions
of the United States, and no artisan, mechanic or skilled workman
can obtain employment in Constantinople without carrying a card of
membership in some guild. The workmen are graded according to their
ability and accomplishments, an idea which it seems to me could be
adopted with advantage by the labor unions of the United States, which
recognize no difference between skill and incompetence, and demand the
same wages for every man regardless of his power of production.
The Turkish guilds are governed by a president and council, and their
funds are derived from the revenues of property owned and fixed
contributions, which are chiefly expended in charity, in assistance to
sick brethren and to the widows and orphans of deceased members. The
discipline is good, the organizations are thorough and extensive, and
the public have long since adapted themselves to their conditions. The
butchers’ guild is said to be the richest, and owns several million
dollars’ worth of property; the bakers and carpenters are the most
numerous. The subdivision of trades is amusing. There is a guild of the
makers of straw-seated stools, who at some time or another seceded
from the guild of the makers of straw-seated chairs and organized
independently. There is one guild for barbers who have shops, and a
separate guild for barbers who go out to serve customers at their homes
or places of business and work upon the public streets. These are the
most numerous of the barber guilds, because it is the fashion for men
to be shaved at their coffee-houses or their homes or offices, and
itinerant barbers go about like bootblacks in our cities. Each guild
has a patron, usually some notable scriptural patriarch, but I have
not been able to ascertain how this happens. Adam is the patron of
the bakers; Eve of the women who work in the Turkish baths; Abel is
the patron of the shepherds; Cain of the grave-diggers; Enoch of the
inkstand-makers; Noah of the shipwrights, which is perfectly natural
and proper, and Elijah of the tailors who make fur coats.
The most interesting places in Constantinople are the bazaars of
Stamboul, and they are peculiarly Turkish. They cover entire blocks,
divided up into sections by narrow streets or corridors, vaulted over
so as to protect from the weather the little booths or shops which
line them on both sides. These shops consist of a single room, perhaps
fifteen by twenty feet in size, seldom larger, without windows or
doors. At night the front is closed with heavy wooden shutters held by
iron bars. Around the walls of the interior are shelves upon which the
stock of the merchant is stored, and it is very limited, scarcely more
than samples of many articles in the same line of trade. One dealer
will have nothing but silk shawls, another nothing but calico prints,
a third nothing but fezzes. The business is all divided and dealers in
the same line of goods occupy the same quarter and sit cross-legged in
their shops waiting for customers. Several hundred merchants are found
in each of the bazaars, who pay a small rental to the government and
are under the control of a superintendent appointed by the minister of
the interior, who is supposed to keep the alleys clean and preserve
order. Ladies of wealth seldom go into the bazaars to trade. Articles
which they wish to purchase are sent to their homes.
There are miles and miles of these little shops, through which one may
walk for hours without crossing his own path, glittering with diamonds
and other precious stones, ivory and mother-of-pearl, costly perfumes,
marvelous carvings in ebony and other cabinet woods, embroidered
slippers and jackets, jeweled pipes, necklaces, rare brocades, furs
and leather, Persian and Indian shawls, Damascus silks, Bokhara table
covers, hammered brass and copper, metal pots and vases covered with
inscriptions, porcelain of all kinds, and an infinite variety of
articles new and old. There is no fixed price for any article, and
a dealer would be disappointed if you purchased at the first figure
demanded, because it would prevent him from showing his ability at
negotiation. Residents tell you that you must not pay more than half
the price asked, and must dicker until the merchant comes down to your
figure. If he does not do so you must walk away, when he will certainly
follow you and tell you that you may have it at your own price.
There are second-hand dealers in some of the bazaars, and during the
month of Ramazan, the Mohammedan Lent, the Turks, who live from hand to
mouth, are so much in need of money that they sell their most precious
possessions, and careful buyers can pick up wonderful bargains among
the second-hand dealers. The ladies of the harems are especially
anxious to obtain money at this season to celebrate the approaching
feast of Bairam, which corresponds to our Easter, when everybody is
supposed to appear in a new dress. When they cannot obtain the money
from their husbands they send their servants to the bazaars with
jewelry, embroideries, rugs, silver plate and other articles of value,
which are sold for almost anything they will bring. On Friday the
Turkish stalls in the bazaars are closed, on Saturday all the Jewish
stalls, and on Sunday those of the Christians, the Armenians and Greeks.
A certain portion of the bazaars is given up to auction sales, which
are very noisy and confusing. It is often impossible for a newcomer to
understand what is going on, because the buyers are not contented with
shouting their bids once, but keep up an exchange of repartee with the
auctioneer as loud as they can yell, which reminds you of the Board of
Trade in Chicago. Sometimes in the middle of an auction the hour of
prayer will arrive, and the faithful Moslem, who imitates the Pharisees
of the Saviour’s time, never neglects his devotions. He will kneel
down in the auction-room, in the street or in any other place when he
hears the muezzin’s voice, and go through his prayers without regard to
publicity.
A friend tells an interesting story about an auction he attended not
long ago, in which an English lady was bidding for some rugs. There
was a little hush in the confusion, of which she took advantage to ask
the auctioneer whether her bid was standing or not. “Yes,” he replied,
“yours was the last bid, and I shall knock the carpet down to you
in a few moments unless that Moslem who is now saying his prayers
offers more.” As Moslem prayers take a long time, the other bidders
became impatient and urged the auctioneer to go on. The praying buyer,
however, heard the conversation and clutched hold of the rug, but went
on bowing his head to the ground and muttering his prayers faster
than ever. When he finished he put in another bid, and the carpet was
knocked down to him.
VII MOSQUES AND PALACES
St. Sophia is one of the great churches of the world, ranking next to
St. Peter’s at Rome in magnitude, majesty and beauty. Three churches of
the same name have stood upon the site of this celebrated sanctuary.
The first was built by Constantine the Great, completed by his son and
successor, Constantius, and dedicated with great pomp on the 15th of
February, 316 A. D. The second, which rose upon the ashes of the first,
was built by the Emperor Theodosius and dedicated in 415. It was burned
during the sedition in 532, and the present edifice was erected by
Justinian the Great, after five years and ten months of labor, and was
dedicated on Christmas day of the year 537. Constantinople was then the
center of the world and the headquarters of the Christian Church, and
it was the ambition of that great emperor to embody in this building
an expression of his adoration for and devotion to the omniscient and
the omnipotent God, to place before the world a symbol combining all
things beautiful, all art--then rescued from paganism--all riches,
all human thought and skill as a tribute to the Creator. Justinian
sought architects, artists, decorators and workmen in every land, and
his biographers say that his authority enabled him to choose the most
competent and skillful of all mankind to execute the noblest of human
enterprises.
The entire world contributed material. As was the custom in those
days, the pagan temples were stripped of their treasures to adorn
the sanctuary of the true God. The shrines of Isis and Osiris were
despoiled to do it honor; the temple of the Sun at Baalbek, of Diana
at Ephesus, of Minerva at Athens, of Phoebus at Delos and of Cybele
at Cyzicus were robbed of their pillars and columns and adornments
of marble and gold. Solomon’s temple at Jerusalem was searched for
architectural glories, and every quarry in the civilized world was
seized and made to contribute. The wonderful columns of dark green
marble which support the galleries came from the temple of Diana at
Ephesus, eight columns of dark red porphyry came from the temple of the
Sun at Baalbek, other columns under the galleries were formerly in the
temples and the palaces of the Cæsars at Rome. The walls of St. Sophia
showed the finest specimens of material and handicraft in existence,
and the magnificence and variety surpassed all other structures.
Every species of marble, granite and porphyry that was considered of
any value in the known world is said to have been represented in the
construction, and the decorations were of corresponding magnificence.
The altar was more costly than gold, for it was composed of a variety
of precious materials imbedded together in gold and silver and
incrusted with pearls and jewels, and its cavity, which was called
the sea, was set with diamonds, rubies and other costly stones. Above
the altar was a tabernacle upon which rested a golden cupola and a
golden cross weighing seventy-five pounds, which, it is said, was so
thickly veneered with diamonds and other jewels that the gold could not
be seen. The seats of the priests and the throne of the patriarchs,
arranged in a semicircle behind the altar, were of solid silver. The
doors of the temple were of ivory, electrum and silver.
We do not know the cost of this wonderful edifice, except that
it weighed heavily upon all classes of the community, for every
soul within the dominions of the emperor, which then comprised the
civilized world, was compelled to contribute. Finally, as it approached
completion, Justinian, who stood by, clad in a cotton tunic, to
encourage the hundred thousand workmen, stretched out his arms to
Heaven and exclaimed:
“Solomon, I have surpassed thee. God be thanked, who has esteemed me
worthy to complete this work.”
And he dedicated it to Divine Wisdom.
The Archangel Michael is said to have been the architect, and revealed
the designs to Justinian in a dream. Celestial visitors frequently
descended to inspect the progress of the work, and, according to the
legends of the time, it could not have been accomplished without them.
When the building was approaching completion Justinian ran short of
money, whereupon an angel appeared, and, leading the mules of the
treasury into a subterranean vault, loaded them with eight thousand
pounds of miraculous gold, which relieved the situation. When a dispute
arose between the emperor and the architects as to how the light should
fall upon the altar, the angel appeared again and instructed them to
arrange a corona, or circle of windows, and dedicate three of them to
the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.
It is claimed that the dome was the first of the kind ever erected, but
that is a misrepresentation, for the Pantheon at Rome was built many
years before. The dome rises over the center of the church to a height
of one hundred and seventy-nine feet and is one hundred and seven feet
in diameter. The dome of the Pantheon is one hundred and thirty feet,
those of St. Peter’s at Rome and Santa Maria at Florence are each
one hundred and twenty-six feet, and that of St. Paul’s at London one
hundred and eight feet. The interior of St. Sophia is oval in shape,
the greatest length being two hundred and fifty feet and the narrowest
one hundred feet, with aisles and recesses of eighty feet on either
side, making the entire width from wall to wall two hundred and sixty
feet. There are one hundred and fourteen columns, forty supporting
the galleries and seventy-four the dome. One hundred architects were
employed as superintendents, under each of whom were a thousand men,
including masons, carpenters, laborers, decorators and others.
Externally the building is very ugly--a mass of irregular blank walls
and domes painted a hideous yellow with black stripes, reminding one
of a convict’s garb. But the interior is majestic in its beauty, and,
according to a famous architectural authority, “is the most perfect
and the most beautiful church ever erected by any Christian people.”
The chief charm of the interior is its massive simplicity and perfect
proportions. It is almost entirely without ornamentation, except the
mosaic work upon the walls and ceiling. All the flat surfaces are
covered with mosaic laid upon gold. Compared with St. Peter’s at Rome
it is as empty as a barn. There are no tombs, no statues, no altars,
nothing to obstruct the view in any direction; nothing to conceal the
graceful outlines of the arches and the simple coloring of the walls,
which is a soft yellow, nearly as deep as an orange and traced with
different dark shades of green. I heard a young American critic remark
that there was “nothing to see in St. Sophia,” which is almost strictly
true, in comparison with the other great churches with which we are
familiar. There is a beautiful balcony for the Sultan to occupy in case
he should come to St. Sophia to worship, and he would be sheltered by
gilded screens. The _mihrab_, which corresponds to the altar in Roman
Catholic churches and indicates the direction of Mecca, towards which
Moslems turn in prayer, is a simple recess unadorned, and near by is
the _mimber_, or pulpit. In St. Sophia, as in all mosques which have
been secured to Islam by the power of arms, the preacher still mounts
the pulpit with sword in hand and hangs out a flag as a symbol of
victory and conquest.
The floor of the entire mosque is covered with Turkish rugs of the
richest texture, and at intervals of six or eight feet wooden troughs
made of undressed lumber stretch across the entire area. These are for
the convenience of worshipers and for the promotion of neatness, and
when one selects a place to kneel and pray he drops his shoes into a
trough. The rugs are divided into sections, plainly marked, so that
the faithful cannot have any excuse for crowding each other. At two
large fountains they can perform their ablutions before beginning their
prayers, and above them is the sensible admonition: “Wash thy sins and
not thy face only.”
Nine gates lead into the temple. Over the central one, by which the
emperor entered, is painted an open book on a reading desk, surmounted
by a dove with outstretched wings. Upon the pages of the book are the
words: “I am the door of the sheep. By me if any man enter in he shall
be saved, and go in and out and find pasture.” In the tympanum above is
a mosaic, also dating back to Christian times, representing Christ upon
the throne, with the words: “Peace be unto you. I am the light of the
world.”
The Mohammedans have retained most of the ornamentation of the
Christians, and even here and there a cross is permitted to remain,
although most of them were chiseled off centuries ago. There are also
several relics of Christ which they refuse to return to the Christians.
The most interesting is a cradle of red marble, said to have been used
by Jesus, and a basin in which He is said to have been washed.
St. Sophia for fifteen hundred years has been the theater of some
of the greatest and most solemn ceremonies in history, and was
particularly associated with the Crusades. On one of the piers in the
nave is the mark resembling the imprint of a bloody hand, said to have
been made by Mohammed II. as his war charger stood upon the bodies of
Christian corpses on the day of the capture of Constantinople by the
Turks.
All around the mosques are tombs, schools, baths, fountains, shops
for the sale of chaplets and other religious articles, hospices for
pilgrims, kitchens for the poor and a theological seminary with several
thousand students.
The Sultan has many palaces, all of them constructed by his
predecessors. He has built none himself, although he altered the Yildiz
Kiosk, in which he lives in seclusion, and modernized it a good deal.
Most of his palaces are occupied by his seven brothers and sisters, his
three married children, and other relatives. Only two of the palaces
are ever seen by strangers, and those can be entered only with a permit
from the Sultan himself, to whom application must be made with the
endorsement of your ambassador. Dolma-Baghtcheh Palace, an enormous
mass of glittering marble, with gorgeous gates and a pretty garden
around it, stands not far from the city on the European side, and
Beyler-Bey, on the Asiatic shore. If exquisitely carved marble, carved
wood and gilding, mosaics and mirrors, crystal chandeliers and gorgeous
frescoes, priceless rugs, tapestries, gilded furniture and divans
upholstered in costly damask, all in a prodigality from which taste is
excluded, constitute an ideal palace, Beyler-Bey excels.
[Illustration: BEYLER-BEY PALACE, CONSTANTINOPLE]
At a distance the exterior, shown against the woodlands and the grassy
plateaus of the Asiatic shore, makes an exceedingly pretty picture,
and Dolma-Baghtcheh as a mass is imposing. When you come to examine
the details you wonder without admiration at the lace-work doors, the
massive gilt columns, the barbaric domes and the Saracenic arches and
a crystal staircase, which must have cost an enormous sum of money.
Everything about the place is of the most costly material. The bath
and toilet-room connected with the Sultan’s apartments, which is shown
with great pride, is lined with slabs of alabaster--floor, walls and
ceiling--and the tub is of the same material. There are wash-basins
in nearly all the reception-rooms made of onyx and alabaster, which
we were told were necessary to take the place of finger-bowls after
the people of the court ate sweets. Both the Dolma-Baghtcheh and the
Beyler-Bey palaces are mixtures of Moorish, Arabic, Turkish and French
architecture and decoration, but the big ballroom, where the Sultans
formerly held receptions, is pure French.
We asked the handsome young aide-de-camp, who was detailed by His
Imperial Majesty to conduct us through the palaces, how a ball-room was
used in a country where gentlemen were not permitted to meet ladies. He
explained that in the harems the ladies often danced among themselves
for the entertainment of their husbands, although the latter never
danced with them, but a ball-room was considered a necessary feature of
a palace, and this one had been used on several occasions years ago.
The young colonel showed us through the picture gallery also, where
there is a collection of paintings made by the late Sultan Abdul Aziz,
who evidently knew very little about art. His taste seemed to run to
nude women, horses, and battle pictures in which Turkish legions were
trampling down their enemies. There were several portraits of Sultans
also, notwithstanding the popular impression that the Mohammedan
religion forbids the reproduction of the human face and figure.
People who have read fanciful descriptions of Constantinople, penned by
poets, artists and other sentimentalists like D’Amicis, for example,
who are apt to see more than appears to ordinary eyes, have an
impression that the Seraglio of the Sultan is a palace of mysterious
seclusion; that it has something to do with the harem and other
private affairs of His Imperial Majesty. I supposed so until I came to
Constantinople, but it is nothing of the sort. Literally, a seraglio
means a portico or vestibule surrounding any habitation, palace, kiosk
or mosque, but the term is commonly used as a collective noun, and
refers to a collection of buildings used for different purposes, such
as the residence of a pasha, his harem, his offices, his stables and
the mosque that is attached to all of the large establishments in
Turkey. The Seraglio of the Sultan is a large collection of buildings
inclosed by a mighty wall, covering the extreme point of the peninsula
upon which Stamboul stands, and dividing the Sea of Marmora from
the Golden Horn. In its geographical association it corresponds to
Battery Park, New York, and is the most conspicuous object one sees
upon approaching the city and the last upon which the eye rests when
departing. It is also the most interesting spot in all Turkey from a
historical standpoint. There is no place in the East except the Holy
Land which has so many associations. It is to Constantinople what
the Kremlin is to Moscow, the Escurial to Madrid, Potsdam to Berlin,
Versailles to Paris, and perhaps we may compare it to Hampton Court
near London.
The garden of the Seraglio was the Acropolis of the original city,
the site of the _Palatium sacrum_ of Constantine, the citadel of his
successors, the palace of Justinian and Placidia, queen of the Goths.
Few spots on earth have had a longer or more tragic history. From the
gardens of the Seraglio sailed the fleets of the Phoenicians, the war
barges of the Romans, the triremes from Asia, the galleys of Darius the
Persian, of Xerxes, of Alexander the Great, Philip of Macedon, and I
would not be surprised if Agamemnon, Ajax, Achilles and those bold old
warriors had landed there many a time. The gilded barges of Venice and
Genoa brought their soldiers there and from that landing-place carried
away millions of plunder. The feet of the Crusaders trod the gravel
walks--Richard the Lion-Hearted, Godfrey de Bouillon, and the Frank
emperors made it their headquarters in the time of the Crusades. Since
the occupation of Constantinople by the Turks, the resplendent caiques
of the Sultans have come and gone, some of them bearing candidates for
uneasy thrones, and others, desperate creatures, seeking refuge from a
miserable death.
From the time of Mohammed II., who took Constantinople by storm in
1453, to Abdul Medjid, in 1864, who deserted it for the more cheerful
palace of the Dolma-Baghtcheh on the banks of the Bosphorus, twenty-two
Sultans have been imprisoned or murdered, or died by violence within
the palaces of the Seraglio. For four hundred years the fate of the
sovereigns of Turkey was subject to the caprice of the all-powerful
Janizaries, who made it their headquarters. Up to the beginning of
the last century it was the fashion for the Janizaries to decapitate
unpopular Sultans and ministers and expose their heads upon the pillars
of the gate in order that the public might know what had happened. Two
niches on either side of the Sublime Porte, which is the main gateway
to the Seraglio, were made for that purpose. Sometimes, however, as a
special mark of vengeance or honor, the heads were placed, like that
of John the Baptist, upon a silver charger and left outside where the
public could examine them closely.
Over the Sublime Porte, a stately arch with ponderous gates, is an
Arabic inscription reading: “May Allah ever preserve the glory of the
possessor; may Allah ever strengthen his foundations.”
In the first large court, known as the Court of the Janizaries, is an
enormous tree called by their name, under which they were in the habit
of hatching their conspiracies. It is said to be the largest tree in
Europe, and two stunted columns under its far-spreading branches once
served as a guillotine. There are many buildings within the walls in
addition to the palaces, the harem, the barracks of the soldiers and
those used for official purposes. The mint is there, the arsenal,
magazines for the storage of explosives, a hospital, the imperial
stables, quarters for an army of slaves, several pleasure kiosks and
a mosque. The Greek church of St. Irene, erected by Constantine the
Great, which was converted into an armory instead of a mosque, is a
venerable monument of the Byzantine style of architecture. In the
museum of the armory is the scimiter used by Mohammed II. in the siege
of Constantinople, the sword of Scanderbeg, the armor of Tamerlane and
the porphyry tombs of Constantine, Theodosius, Julian the Apostate and
other early Greek emperors.
The _Chirkau Scherif_, or Hall of the Holy Garment, is the most sacred
place in Turkey, for it shelters the mantle of the Prophet Mohammed,
his staff, his saber, his standard, and, among other relics, two hairs
from his venerable beard, which are inclosed in a casket of gold. The
sacred mantle is a long brown robe of camel’s-hair, made in the same
shape and style and resembling in appearance those worn by Persian
priests. It is inclosed in a frame and covered with cloth-of-gold
for protection, with little slits cut in the covering in order that
the threads may be seen. The standard of Islam is a green flag or
banner, about two feet square, of the finest silk, embroidered with
an inscription similar to those seen in all the Mohammedan churches,
declaring that “there is no God but Allah and Mohammed is his prophet.”
This standard is said to have been carried by Mohammed himself and has
ever since been the most significant and sacred egis of the Moslem
world, the symbol of _el jihad_, or call to a religious war, when borne
publicly by the Sultan in the mosque of St. Sophia.
[Illustration: SULEIMAN MOSQUE, CONSTANTINOPLE]
There are many other interesting buildings in the Seraglio, some of
them famous for their decorations and the carved marble used in their
construction. Others are gloomy-looking storehouses for archives and
wardrobes for the robes of state--once carefully kept by black eunuchs,
now all more or less dilapidated and abandoned. The kitchens cover a
large area and are roofed with domes perforated to let out the smoke
instead of having the ordinary chimney, and in the olden days it is
said that 40,000 oxen was the yearly complement, with a corresponding
number of sheep, goats, calves, capons, geese, ducks, pigeons and other
supplies.
In August, 1863, several of the ancient buildings were destroyed and
damaged by fire, and nowadays the most of them are yellow and dingy,
sadly in need of paint and restoration. There is everywhere a look of
neglect. Most of the Seraglio is vacant except for the custodians and
guards, and everywhere there is a pathetic squalor.
The most beautiful of all the buildings, the famous oriental kiosk
known as Tschinili, or the mosque of porcelain, built by the conqueror
Mohammed in imitation of one he saw at Bagdad, remains in an excellent
state of preservation, for which we are duly grateful, and its
portico, with graceful pillars elaborately carved in the most delicate
lace-work, its dome starred with gilt coruscations, and lined from
ceiling to floor with beautiful blue Persian tiles, look as bright and
new as they did on the day they were made. The doors are of bronze, the
woodwork is set with mother-of-pearl and the rugs and hangings are of
the finest silk. It is altogether the prettiest thing in Constantinople.
Across the court, however, is what we came to see,--the treasury of
the Ottoman Empire, or, as it used to be known, the Green Vaults of
Constantine. Here is a display of barbaric splendor and a collection
of treasure and baubles which no Turk is ever allowed to look upon
except the _Aghas_ and eunuchs who are intrusted with its protection,
and even they are spies upon each other. No one can enter this
building without an order signed by Abrahim Pasha, private secretary
to His Majesty. Applications by strangers must be made to the Sultan
personally through the ambassador of their country, and he requires
several days to consider before granting a permit. Perhaps he makes
inquiries as to the character of the applicant, because he is
exceedingly jealous of his treasures and always apprehensive lest they
should be seen by some person who may make trouble about them.
No resident of Constantinople except the families of the diplomatic
corps, no Turk and no person who understands the Turkish language
can be admitted, for fear they might give information concerning the
millions of dollars’ worth of precious stones and other valuables which
would tempt robbers or cause discontent among the poverty-stricken
people. When the Sultan tells suppliants that he has no money they
might ask him to sell some of the diamonds and pearls and emeralds or
melt up some of the gold in his treasury. Very few Turks know what
is there. Few members of the Sultan’s household have ever seen the
collection. Most of them are gifts, heirlooms and trophies of war. Many
have been handed down by twenty-eight generations of Sultans, and it is
claimed that the collection has never been disturbed; but that is an
exaggeration. No matter how hard-pressed the Sultan may be for money
he would not sell any of his treasures, but sometimes he has taken out
some trifle for a gift--a jewel or an ornament; something that would
not be missed.
There is no such useless wealth in all the world except in the Kremlin
at Moscow. That looks larger because it occupies more space and is
better arranged for display. The Sultan’s treasures are crowded into
two little rooms, arranged without any taste or plan of installation,
and the loose and unset jewels, seals and other articles of adornment
are kept in big salad-bowls that will hold a couple of gallons. There
are five bowls full of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, turquoise and other
unset precious stones, perhaps a half bushel altogether, and a large
tray about twelve by fifteen inches in size covered with beautiful
unmounted pearls. One of the emeralds weighs two kilograms and another
is almost of the same size. They are said to be the largest emeralds in
the world.
The most gorgeous and overpowering spectacle in the collection is a
throne said to be of solid gold set, mosaic-like, with uncut rubies,
emeralds and pearls, which formerly belonged to the Shah of Persia,
and was captured and brought to Constantinople as the spoil of war by
Sultan Selim I. in 1502. There are scepters, armor, sabers, scimiters,
pistols, saddles and other equestrian equipments, walking-sticks,
sandals and other articles, some of them imbedded with jewels. A
toilet table of ordinary size is veneered with diamonds, while the
wash-bowl, pitcher and other toilet articles are set thickly with the
most beautiful turquoise. There are cups of onyx, crystal and jade;
stirrups, bridles and other horse-furniture of gold, and in the corner
of a little case is a two-quart bowl filled with diamond buttons, which
some time or another fastened the garments of some extravagant sultan.
Arranged around the wall are effigies of a dozen or more of the great
sultans in their richest robes of state and wearing their favorite
jewels. If those effigies could be stripped of their ornaments they
alone would make a display of the jeweler’s art that would be worth
exhibition. There is no catalogue, and I was prohibited from taking
notes. Newspaper men are never knowingly admitted, lest they should
publish descriptions of the riches of the treasury and give the Sultan
hysterics.
The ceremony of opening the doors was quite interesting. There are two
sets of keys for everything, and they are held by two custodians who
have nothing to do with each other and are supposed to be enemies. Each
has a guard of twenty-four men, who live apart and are forbidden to
associate with each other or have any more than the strictest official
communication. Representatives of each of these squads are on duty at
all times and are expected to act as spies on each other. They are
peculiar-looking people and wear a queer livery--a high-buttoned coat
of black broadcloth like an Episcopal clergyman, with a red fez.
Our card of invitation fixed our reception at 11:30 a.m. We arrived a
little before that hour, to find that the custodians had anticipated us
and had drawn up their guards in two lines facing each other. One of
the chiefs then went forward and unlocked his share of the fastenings.
Then the other came forward and used his keys. Each was accompanied
by at least twelve men, and under the regulations could not turn a
bolt until they all were present. If anyone had been absent we would
have been compelled to wait for him or come another day. And every
one of these guards expected a liberal fee. The cost of looking at
the Sultan’s treasures amounted to $35. After the inspection we were
invited to a pavilion where coffee, sweets and cigarettes were served
with great formality. While we were there an accident happened. Our
courier, in reply to an inquiry, unintentionally dropped a few words of
Turkish, and there was great excitement. One of the officials took him
aside and put him through a close examination, but finally accepted his
explanation that he was not a Turk nor a resident of Turkey, and was
not familiar with the language, but had learned a few words during the
recent war with Greece, when he had served as a dragoman for an English
newspaper correspondent.
VIII ROBERT COLLEGE AND THE MISSIONARIES
Upon the summit of a bold promontory, overlooking the Bosphorus, almost
midway between the Black Sea and the Sea of Marmora, one hour’s ride
by boat from Constantinople, stands a monument. No man could need or
wish a nobler one. It is called Robert College, and was erected about
forty years ago by a New York merchant, Christopher R. Robert, who was
interested in Turkish trade. It has an appropriate place. A lighthouse
should always stand were it can see and be seen, and Robert College
has done more to enlighten the East than any other agency. Little
passenger boats, like those upon the Thames in London and upon the
Seine in Paris, run regularly or rather irregularly, up and down the
Bosphorus, touching the many little suburban settlements along its
shores. At Bebek, a pretty town much frequented by European residents
of Constantinople, is a Protestant church, where formerly stood a
temple to Artemis Dictynna. After the Turks obtained possession palaces
were laid out there, and at one of them, called “The Kiosk of the
Conferences,” the Sultans used to receive ambassadors secretly, without
the knowledge of their ministers and other officials of the government,
and there several important treaties between the Ottoman Empire and the
European Powers were negotiated and signed. The Bosphorus is only about
eight hundred yards wide at this point. Near Bebek was the celebrated
bridge over which Darius led the Persian armies into Europe. A
throne was hewn in a rock at the top of the promontory on which he sat
and watched his army crossing from Asia. Two pillars of white marble
inscribed with the names of the nations that contributed to his army
formerly stood there, according to Herodotus, but have since been
removed.
[Illustration: ROBERT COLLEGE, CONSTANTINOPLE]
Passengers for the college land from the boats at Bebek and follow an
easy path up a hill beside an ancient cemetery and under the shadow of
the walls of Rumili Hisar, a mighty castle built by Mohammed II. in
1453 while he was besieging the city of Constantinople. Immediately
opposite, upon the Asiatic shore of the Bosphorus, a similar castle was
erected, and the two commanded the passage so that every ship passing
up and down was compelled to pay toll. Mohammed called this castle
Boghag Kessen (Throat Cutter), for he had a pleasant way with him. The
ruins are as picturesque and extensive as any in Europe, and the towers
are almost perfect after nearly six hundred years, although the floors
and ceilings have long since fallen through. The walls have crumbled
and much stone has been taken away for building material. They were
originally thirty feet thick and thirty feet high, and were built with
the greatest haste and energy. Mohammed employed 1,000 masons, 1,000
lime-burners and 10,000 laborers in the construction, and to each mason
was assigned the task of building two yards of wall in three months. By
this division of labor and responsibility the work was completed in the
time named by the ingenious designs of the engineers, and the outline
of the walls forms the Turkish word “Mahomet.”
There are other interesting places in the neighborhood, but Robert
College is the most interesting of all. The institution is built and
conducted upon the American plan. You might fancy that the dormitories
and lecture-rooms and library of some institution in Ohio or Illinois
had been lifted bodily and transported there. They are of solid
masonry and as nearly fireproof as it is possible to make them. Dr.
Washburn, the president, has a comfortable home within the grounds,
of corresponding architecture and material, and the residences of the
faculty are scattered around the neighborhood inside and outside the
walls. It is not necessary to describe the buildings, for they are so
much like our own. In the basement of the principal dormitory is the
common dining-room at which the boarding students take their meals and
the day students their lunches, and that, too, is conducted upon the
American rather than the Turkish plan. The same can be said of the
dormitories, the library and the gymnasium. The preparatory department
has a new building, the gift of Miss Stokes, of New York, which cost
$40,000. Other buildings are greatly needed, because the present
accommodations are not sufficient for the demands upon them. It is a
lamentable fact that students have to be turned away every year because
there is no room for them. The institution has done incalculable good,
but it might do more. Its usefulness could be materially increased with
a little more room and a little more money.
The gymnasium and playground are considered of unusual importance, as
the faculty encourage athletics not only for physical, but for moral
and social culture. Football, cricket, baseball and other athletic
sports are the most effective equalizers that can be adopted. The
students of the college come from all ranks, castes and from every
social stratum, but social distinctions are not recognized at Robert
College any more than at our institutions at home, and there is always
more or less difficulty in reconciling the representatives of the
favored classes to the doctrine of human equality. The football field,
however, is a pure democracy, where all meet on the same level and the
best man wins the greatest degree of respect and exercises the greatest
influence.
Robert College is not a missionary institution, nor is it sectarian
in any respect. Its object is to afford the young men of Turkey and
the surrounding countries facilities for acquiring such an education
as will best fit them for professional and business life. It aims
to combine the highest moral training with the most complete mental
discipline. The purpose of the faculty is to adapt it to the needs
of the people and develop Christian manliness among the students
without attempting to teach them theology. The plan of discipline
and instruction is the same as in the ordinary colleges in America.
The recitations and lectures are all in English. American text-books
only are used. Students are required to attend chapel daily and
religious services on Sunday. No exceptions are made either for Jews
or Gentiles, Roman Catholics or Mohammedans. They study the evidences
of Christianity just as they study moral philosophy, political economy
and geology. The course of study has been selected with a view to the
practical application of learning, as well as intellectual development.
The regular collegiate department occupies five full years. The tuition
fees, including board and lodging, are $200 a year. Tuition without
board is $40 a year, and tuition and luncheon daily $65 a year. There
are several scholarships which are utilized to the assistance of
worthy young men upon the recommendation of the faculty.
The board of trustees has its office in New York. The president is John
S. Kennedy, the secretary Edward B. Coe and the treasurer Frederick
A. Booth. John Sloane, Cleveland H. Dodge, William T. Booth, William
C. Sturgis, Robert W. de Forrest and William Church Osborn constitute
the board. The faculty is mixed, a majority of them being natives of
the East--Greeks, Armenians, Bulgarians, Roumanians and Turks--all
graduates of the institution and members of the Protestant faith. Dr.
George Washburn is the president; and his father-in-law, Dr. Cyrus
Hamlin, was the actual founder of the institution. In 1860 Christopher
R. Robert, having visited Constantinople, was deeply impressed with the
necessity for an institution of higher learning there, and invited Dr.
Hamlin to join him in founding an institution which should offer to
young men, without distinction of race or creed, a thorough American
education. Dr. Hamlin opened the college in a rented house in Bebek in
1863. Mr. Robert furnished all the funds to sustain the institution
until his death, in 1878, when he bequeathed to the college one-fifth
of his estate, amounting to about $400,000. Articles of incorporation
were secured in New York in 1864, and in 1869 the Sultan of Turkey
was persuaded by the American minister at Constantinople to issue an
_irade_ conferring upon the institution all the advantages bestowed
by the imperial government upon schools in Turkey. On July 4, 1869,
the corner-stone of the first building was laid by E. J. Morris, the
American minister, and it was completed in 1871. It still stands as the
principal building of the college, and is known as Hamlin Hall.
Other buildings have been erected since with funds contributed by
friends of the college in America, and since the death of Mr. Robert
the endowment fund has been increased by generous contributions from
other American citizens. The college is almost self-supporting. The
receipts from tuition fees cover the salaries of the professors,
leaving a balance to be paid from the income of the endowment fund
which is greater or less according to circumstances. The total annual
expenses are within $50,000 a year, which is a very small average for
three hundred and eleven students, of whom one hundred and eighty-two
sleep and board in the college.
The students come from all parts of Asia Minor, Turkey in Europe,
Greece and the Balkan States--the largest number from the immediate
neighborhood of Constantinople; the next largest from Greece,
Bulgaria and Roumania, but almost every nation is represented. The
Greeks outnumber the rest, having had one hundred and twenty-seven
representatives in 1902, the Armenians one hundred and eight and the
Bulgarians fifty-one. Then came the Turks, Israelites, Roumanians,
Austrians, French, Russians, English and Americans, Assyrians,
Georgians, Persians and Levantines in order. The parents of the
students belong to almost every religious faith represented in
Constantinople, and are willing to sacrifice their religious scruples
in order to obtain the educational advantages of the college.
The policy of the Turkish government makes it difficult and often
impossible for Turks to attend the institution, and hence there are no
professed Moslems among the students. It would be unsafe and it might
be fatal for any student to declare himself a Moslem. It is suspected,
however, that students belonging to that faith have enrolled themselves
as members of others. Young men who have come from different parts of
Turkey to enter the college are often arrested and imprisoned upon
their arrival. Dr. Washburn says, however, that the minister of police
is usually reasonable, and when satisfied that they have come in good
faith he delivers them to the treasurer of the institution and holds
him responsible for their behavior. In 1901 one of the students was
detained in prison for two months on the charge of bringing seditious
literature into the country. The police inspectors found in his
luggage two pieces of music which can be bought at any music store in
Constantinople, but for some reason or another the charge was pressed
against him and it cost his father a large sum of money to obtain his
release.
The graduates are found in high places throughout the East. Many of
them occupy conspicuous positions under the governments of Bulgaria,
Roumania and the neighboring countries. At one time four of the Robert
College alumni were in the ministry of Bulgaria, including the late Mr.
Stoiloff, who was recognized as the ablest statesman in that country
after Stambouloff’s death, and was prime minister from 1894 to 1901.
Eleven different services are held in Protestant churches in
Constantinople every Sunday in four different languages. Three by the
Church of England--one in the chapel of the embassy, for the British
ambassador has a chaplain and a physician furnished by his government,
as well as a secretary; at St. Paul’s Church, which was erected fifty
years ago as a memorial to the English soldiers who died in the
Crimean war, and in a chapel in the suburbs at ancient Calcedon. At
a chapel connected with the Dutch embassy, union services are held
by the Presbyterians, Methodists and Dutch Reformed. There is also
a chapel connected with the German embassy and a Lutheran chaplain.
Besides these there are churches under the direction of the American
Board of Foreign Missions, attended by Protestants at Robert College,
at the American College for Girls at Scutari and at the American and
English colony at Bebek on the Bosphorus. The Scotch Presbyterians
and the Established Church of Scotland each has a house of worship,
and the French Protestants residing in Galata and Pera have a very
pretty church. Protestant missions to the natives are scattered all
over the city and are conducted by British, German, Dutch and American
societies. The American Board of Foreign Missions has one hundred and
seventy-six missionaries in Turkey, including forty men and over one
hundred unmarried women. The British and Dutch Reformed missionaries
are almost as numerous. In all Turkey there are about 50,000 registered
Protestants and 13,000 communicants in the various churches, being
mostly Greeks and Armenians. As we were particularly interested in the
work of the American missionaries only, I did not obtain the statistics
of the others, but the American Board alone has one hundred and thirty
organized native churches, twenty-five of which are self-supporting.
In the city of Constantinople are two large congregations of Armenian
and Greek Protestants, who have already purchased lots to erect houses
of worship and have raised funds for that purpose, but are prohibited
from doing so by the officials. They have made applications for
building permits frequently from time to time during the last eight or
ten years, which have always been denied them, and even the American
minister cannot exert sufficient influence to secure that privilege. No
Protestant church can be erected in Constantinople. No man dare sell
a piece of land for the purpose. The churches already standing have
been erected under the patronage of the different foreign legations and
embassies.
A number of high standard colleges are maintained by the missionary
boards in Turkey, as well as schools of all grades. The colleges are
now educating a total of 3,000 students, and the pupils in the schools
number over 20,000, most of these institutions being self-supporting.
The students come chiefly from the mercantile class, and only about
one-fourth of them are Protestants. The remainder represent all
creeds and races, although the Mohammedan believers are few. More
than three-fourths of the students pay full tuition, ranging from $40
to $250 a year, according to location and circumstances. There are
scholarships for the benefit of poor students, but they are usually
reserved for such young men and women as are studying for the mission
work and for teaching in the mission schools.
From 1856 to 1876, from the Crimean war to the reign of Abdul Hamid
II., the present Sultan, religious liberty prevailed throughout all
Turkey, and, the government encouraging Mohammedans to enter the
schools, they came in large numbers. But under the present Sultan the
policy has been to restrict education and keep the people in ignorance,
and no Moslem can attend a Protestant school without rendering himself
and his family the objects of suspicion and persecution of all sorts.
The father may be arrested upon false charges, sent to prison and
his property confiscated, or the son may be accused of “discontent”
(a crime which is very prevalent) and be sent to prison for months or
years, or some member of the family may be charged with membership
in the “Young Turkey” party, which is an offense punishable by death
or banishment. Any of these things is likely to occur without the
slightest justification, and they are intended as discipline to prevent
proselyting by the Protestants among Mohammedans, and to make the
Protestant schools unpopular. A Christianized Mohammedan cannot live in
Turkey. He is compelled to leave the country, for as soon as the fact
is known he is either assassinated or thrown into prison. Mohammedans
who accept Christianity are very few. A somewhat notable case occurred
recently--perhaps two. I have heard two versions with different names,
but am confident they refer to the same person.
The son of a prominent pasha who held a commission in the Turkish army
became acquainted with an American family and visited them frequently
for the purpose of improving his English conversation. He became quite
intimate with them, accompanied them to church and read books on
religious subjects which were loaned by them. He decided to formally
renounce the religion of his fathers and become a Protestant, but was
compelled to leave the country as soon as his intentions were known.
If his father had not condemned his own son with great promptness the
entire family would have been involved in danger. The young man fled
on an English ship, reached the United States about the time of the
opening of the Spanish war, enlisted in the army, served through the
Santiago campaign, was promoted for efficiency and has since been
appointed a second lieutenant. It is impossible for him to return to
Turkey. He would be assassinated by some fanatic if the government
police did not get him first and arrest him upon some pretext. He would
then disappear and nobody would dare ask questions as to his fate. It
would be dangerous to do so. This case is known to every Protestant
family and throughout the upper classes of Constantinople, and all
other examples of the conversion of Moslems are equally familiar
because they are so few. There is, nevertheless, a good deal of
missionary work done by the Protestants among the Mohammedans, and at
least 5,000 copies of the Bible in the Turkish language are sold in the
Ottoman Empire every year, which shows an interest among the people;
but the government officials and the Mohammedan priests are so vigilant
that the purchasers would not be willing to have their names known.
In fact, the Bible House was prohibited from publishing the Bible in
the Turkish language for many years and was originally compelled by
the censor to print upon the title page a warning that the book was
intended for Protestants only.
The educational system of the Turks is not entirely bad, but is mostly
for religious instruction. The _mekteb_, or primary schools, are
numerous, and afford every boy and girl in the city an opportunity
to learn to read and write and obtain a knowledge of the Koran. Such
schools are attached to every mosque in the empire. The _ibtidaiyeh_,
or secondary schools, afford opportunities for learning geography,
arithmetic, history and the modern languages, but there are only twenty
of these schools in all Constantinople for a million and more people.
The _medresseh_, or colleges, teach philosophy, logic, rhetoric,
theology and Turkish law, and generally take the place of the
universities found in other countries. They are the highest educational
institutions maintained by the Turkish government. There are schools
of law, medicine, mines and forestry, art, and a manual-training
establishment supported by the government, with nine large institutions
for military and naval education. The Greeks, Armenians and Jews each
have their own schools connected with their churches and maintained by
private contributions. Some of them offer a high standard of education
and have fine libraries.
There is a Protestant college for girls at Scutari, on the opposite
side of the Bosphorus, which offers education for young women and
has an average of one hundred and seventy-five pupils. It has been
established for a quarter of a century, and has sent out a large number
of useful teachers of nine different nationalities, who are now engaged
throughout different parts of the Turkish Empire and the neighboring
countries. Miss Mary M. Patrick, the president, is assisted by a
faculty of six American professors and fifteen other instructors. You
must not think, however, that the Americans are the only people who
are doing good in an educational way in the Sultan’s dominions. The
English, the Germans, the Swiss, the French and the Austrians all have
institutions for the education of the natives, more or less supported
by charities.
The editor of a Turkish newspaper is surrounded by numerous
embarrassments, yet, notwithstanding the strict censorship to which
it is subjected, the press exercises a much wider influence than it
is given credit for, considering that the first newspaper was not
published, and that no private printing-office was allowed in Turkey
until during the Crimean war. There are daily papers in all of the
large towns of the interior. Each vilayet, or province, has an official
journal. In Constantinople the newspapers are innumerable--political,
religious, literary, scientific and commercial--and are published in
more different languages than in any other city in the world. There
are papers in Arabic, Armenian, Bulgarian, English, French, German,
Greek, Hebrew, Italian, Syriac, Persian, Spanish and in three different
dialects of the Turkish language. During the Crimean war papers sprang
up in Constantinople like mushrooms, and were free so far as formal
regulations were concerned until a press law was promulgated in 1861,
under which the publication of articles reflecting upon the Sultan, the
government, the church, the police and other officials was prohibited
and certain political and religious topics were tabooed. In case of
violation of the law the responsible editor was punished by fine,
imprisonment or the suspension of his newspaper.
A few years later the minister of the interior assumed arbitrary
authority over the press, and when an article appeared that displeased
him he punished the editor, suppressed the paper and confiscated the
property at his pleasure. This continued until about 1886, when a
preventive censorship was adopted and a press bureau was added to the
private cabinet of His Majesty the Sultan. Representatives of this
bureau are detailed to assist the editors of newspapers and are paid
by them. Liberality is a matter of mutual agreement. The more they
are paid the less trouble they cause, and if they do not receive as
much as they want they generally find means to revenge themselves.
The censors have desks in the newspaper offices and proof slips of
every article must be submitted for their approval, which is indicated
by a rubber stamp and signature. The proof slips thus marked are
carefully filed away for the protection of the editor. The censors
are usually incapable of forming an opinion as to the merits or
effect of a political or economic article, but have a quick eye for
prohibited subjects and words. Editors very soon get to understand
them, and by the exercise of a little tact are able to handle them
without difficulty. But certain rules must be observed. Nobody, of
course, dare speak ill of the Sultan or of his government. Everything
done by them must be approved; foreign relations cannot be touched
upon, and religious discussions must be avoided so far as they affect
Mohammedans. Nothing can appear which relates to political revolutions,
insurrections or disturbances of any kind in other countries. If all
the cabinets in Europe should resign, if a political revolution should
break out in England and King Edward’s throne should be overturned, the
fact would never be mentioned in a Turkish newspaper. No particulars
of the assassinations of King Humbert and of President McKinley were
printed--only the announcement of their deaths, which the readers
would infer were due to natural causes. It is not safe to let the
discontented element in Turkey know that kings or presidents can be
killed. They might take a hint.
Nowhere at any of the courts of Europe do the diplomatic
representatives of the United States appear to so great a
disadvantage among the ambassadors and ministers of other Powers as
at Constantinople, and Congress should do something to improve their
position for the dignity and honor of our government. If there should
be trouble at the Turkish capital to-morrow or next week--and it is
likely to occur at any time--the American minister, the members of his
legation, the consul-general and his staff and their families would be
compelled to take refuge at the British embassy. They might, of course,
go to the German or Russian embassy, but our relations with the British
are more intimate there, as well as elsewhere, because of a similarity
of language and mutual interests. At all capitals the interests of
citizens of the United States are protected by the representatives of
Great Britain when our own ministers are absent, and vice versa, and
the records of our legations and consulates are always intrusted to the
British diplomatic and consular officials, and theirs to ours, whenever
necessary. Our minister and consul-general, with their secretaries and
attachés, would be welcome at the British embassy, which has often
extended its hospitality to their predecessors, but it is nevertheless
a humiliating fact that they are dependent upon other nations for
protection when Uncle Sam is great enough and rich enough to provide
for his own agents in foreign countries.
The doctrine of extra-territoriality prevails in Turkey--that is, the
citizens of each nation residing there are tried for offenses according
to their own laws, and before their own diplomatic and consular
representatives. It does not matter who the plaintiff is. He may be a
Turk or a Dutchman; the nationality of the defendant determines the
court and the law by which an offense shall be tried, for every offense
he may commit, from murder down to petty larceny. Hence court is held
regularly at the various embassies and legations, petty offenses being
tried before the consuls, and those of a more serious character before
the minister or ambassador. The Turkish officials have nothing to do
with them.
Turkish law is founded on the Koran, the teachings of famous Khalifs
and other disciples of Islam, and upon decisions rendered upon
questions proposed to the Sheik-ul-Islam, the head of the Moslem
Church, who is the court of final appeal and has authority to overrule
all magistrates. The teachings of the Koran and the prophet and such
precedents, maxims and decisions are codified and published in a
volume divided into chapters relating to commercial affairs, penal
offenses, etc., and the canon, or ecclesiastic, and common law. To
them are added the _firmans_, or proclamations, of the Sultan, which
permit or forbid certain things among his subjects, and the regulations
provided by the police authorities which generally stand from year to
year. The _kazasskers_, or justices, as we would call them, a body of
theologians, jurists and teachers of Moslem law, are supposed to assist
the Sheik-ul-Islam in the investigation and decision of questions of
law, and prepare briefs for him to sign. There is also a court known as
the Ulema, of minor jurisdiction.
All residents of Turkey are supposed to belong to some religious
society, or _millet_, and are reached through the head of their
particular community. Theoretically each _millet_ is allowed the free
exercise of religion, the management of its own monasteries, schools,
hospitals and charitable institutions and in certain cases judicial
authority. The chief _millets_ are Roman Catholic, Greek, Orthodox,
Armenian, Jewish, Protestant, Bulgarian, Maronite, Nestorian and Greek
Roman Catholic; and each citizen, no matter how humble, is required
to be registered as a member of one of these _millets_. In case he has
committed an offense he has the nominal right to appeal to the head
of his sect for protection, and on the other hand the patriarch or
chief of each _millet_ is nominally the medium through which the laws
and orders of the Turkish government are enforced; but this is purely
theoretical. Men who are accused of crime or misdemeanor are hauled up
by the Turkish police and cast into prison without mercy or justice and
remain there until their friends can raise money enough to buy them out
or the diplomatic agent of their government appears to protect them.
In the embassy courts no account is taken of Turkish law or mode of
procedure, and the proceedings are conducted exactly as they would
be at home. Our consul-general has a clerk of court, a United States
marshal and other judicial officers, whose powers and duties correspond
precisely to those of similar officials at home, and our government
has a prison also for the detention of offenders. The business of the
United States court, however, is very small compared with that of other
legation courts, because we have very few citizens in Constantinople.
There are only about two hundred Americans in Turkey all told, and
they are mostly missionaries, who do not often appear in the consular
courts. But some of the embassies--the Russian, the German, Austrian
and French--do considerable business.
Each of the European Powers, even Holland and Belgium, has a handsome
residence and legation building. The German embassy is one of the
finest edifices in Constantinople. None but the palaces of the Sultan
exceed it in dimensions or pretensions. It stands in a conspicuous
place and may be seen from all parts of the city. The Russian embassy
is an enormous building, surrounded by a high wall, and has a hospital
connected with it. The British embassy is also a fine building. Our
minister usually has to live in a hotel because it is always difficult
and often impossible to rent a suitable residence. At present only
one house in Constantinople fit for the purpose can be secured. It
belongs to an Italian nobleman who has returned to his former home in
Italy, and stands in one of the most convenient and desirable sections
of the city, but the cellar is full of water and cannot be kept dry.
The walls are saturated with moisture, and hence the prospect of
leasing it is not good. Usually the United States minister rents a
residence at Therepia, a suburban town a few miles up the Bosphorus,
where several of the European governments have legations for the use
of their representatives during the hot season, when the heat and the
filth make it impossible for them to live in the city. On the first of
July the entire diplomatic corps moves _en masse_ from Constantinople
to Therepia and remains there until the first of November, when it is
again safe to return. The ambassadors or their secretaries come to
town nearly every day for the transaction of necessary business and to
communicate with the officials of the government, and are provided with
yachts for the journey. Our government is the only one of importance
which does not have a yacht for the use of its minister lying at anchor
near the custom-house. During the summer months he is permitted to
lease a little steam launch, but at the close of the season it is sent
back to its owner.
These yachts have, however, a purpose which is much more important,
but it is not often mentioned. The condition of affairs in Turkey is
similar to that in China, and the members of the diplomatic corps are
exposed at all times to the same dangers that imperiled the legations
at Peking two years ago. When a mob of Moslems, whose religion teaches
them that it is their duty to kill Christians, takes possession of the
city of Constantinople, it does not distinguish between foreigners.
All persons who do not profess the Moslem faith are infidels and must
die, no matter whether they are Armenians or English or Austrians,
and the police and other officials have no means of controlling or
directing the ignorant and fanatical Turks. It is considered necessary,
therefore, that the members of the different embassies and legations
should have means of escape always at hand, and hence the long line
of steam yachts anchored at a convenient situation near the foreign
quarter of the city. Germany, Russia, England, France, Austria and
Italy always have gunboats anchored in the Bosphorus as an additional
protection. The Turkish government requires them to be small. As a rule
it will not permit a foreign man-of-war to pass the Dardanelles, but
these guard-boats, as they are called, are admitted to be necessary by
the police themselves, and by special treaty provision are allowed to
anchor off the city.
Public confidence in the government is so small that nearly all the
European nations have their own mail service. The British, German,
French, Austrians and Russians have distinct and separate postoffices,
because the subjects of those nations residing in Turkey cannot trust
the Turkish mails. This is done with the consent of the Sultan, and
is regulated by treaty stipulations. The postoffices are open to the
public and can be used by anyone. The mail is put into bags, sealed
and shipped by railroad to the nearest convenient point within the
territory of the nation interested. The British mail goes to London,
the French mail to Marseilles, the Austrian to Budapest and the Russian
to Odessa. The seals are broken at those places, and the contents
of the bags are turned over to the regular postal officials. At the
British postoffice British stamps are sold, surcharged with the value
in Turkish money. The same is true of all the other postoffices.
Tourists can no longer visit the great “Cistern of the 1,001
Pillars,” which was formerly one of the most interesting objects
in Constantinople. It was built in the time of Constantine for the
purpose of storing water, is one hundred and ninety-five feet long,
one hundred and sixty-seven feet wide and twenty-seven feet deep. The
roof is sustained by a vast forest of columns, and it is the popular
notion that they number one more than a thousand. It is estimated
that the cistern formerly held enough water to supply the population
of Stamboul for ten days, but it has not been used since 1850 for
that purpose. Constantinople has an excellent water system carried in
aqueducts running to various quarters of the city. For many years this
and several other great cisterns, having been pumped out, were used for
storage of government supplies, but of late they have been practically
abandoned, and certain Armenian manufacturers of rope, carpets and
other articles which required more room than light, have been using
them rent free, because of their large size and other advantages.
During the massacre of 1896, however, the Turkish mob surprised the
Armenians at work in this cistern and killed between sixty and seventy
in cold blood. Their bodies were allowed to remain in the cistern
unburied and are there still. Hence it is not an agreeable place to
visit.
Two thousand children, orphans of people who lost their lives in
that massacre, are employed in a carpet factory in the suburbs of
Constantinople.
* * * * *
PART II Bulgaria
* * * * *
PART II BULGARIA
IX RECENT HISTORY AND POLITICS
In the early days, at the time of that great soldier, Philip of
Macedon, the name of Thrace was applied to the whole district south
of the Danube. It was inhabited by a savage race, which Philip and
his successor, Alexander, brought under subjection and incorporated
into their empire. Early in the Christian era the Emperor Vespasian
conquered the country, and it became a Roman province, and remained
such until the horde of eastern barbarians swept up the valley of the
Danube about the beginning of the third century. Among them were the
Bulgari, an Asiatic clan, who remained in possession of the Balkan
Mountain region and gave it their name. During subsequent centuries
they founded the great Bulgarian Empire, which attained the zenith of
its power during the reign of the Czar Simeon (893-927 A.D.), but fell
under Byzantine rule in the eleventh century.
The first appearance of Russia in the affairs of Bulgaria was a most
important event, for it has affected the politics of the country
until this very day. One August morning in the year 967 A.D. 10,000
men landed from a Russian fleet at the mouth of the Danube. They were
led by a valiant and hardy warrior named Sviatoslav, whose food was
horseflesh and whose bed was a bearskin laid upon the ground. Since
then the Russians, by reason of racial and religious relationship,
have claimed the right to interfere in the affairs of the country, and
no nation has shown greater sympathy with the unhappy people who have
suffered so much from Turkish oppression.
The balance of power in Europe prevents the annexation of the Balkan
States to the Russian Empire. Austria and Germany will not permit the
Czar to extend his boundaries to the Mediterranean, but no power has
yet been able to counteract the Russian influence in Bulgarian politics
or prevent the Bulgarians from appealing to the Great White Bear
when they are in danger or distress. Russian influence is paramount
in Bulgaria to-day, not only because of affection, but for two other
reasons: In the first place, the people are not strong enough to resist
it, and in the second place, it is important for the Bulgarians to
cultivate the friendship of their powerful neighbor in anticipation of
events which may occur at any time. To no other source can they look
for assistance.
[Illustration: SOFIA, THE CAPITAL OF BULGARIA]
In the twelfth century occurred the second Russian invasion of
Bulgaria, which was so general as to cause a fusion of races and the
adoption of the Slav language and religion, which has been used by
Russia as a pretext for exercising a protectorate over southeastern
Europe. In the fourteenth century the Turks drove the Russians out, and
in 1389 the country was brought completely under Ottoman rule, which
continued until the close of the Russo-Turkish war in 1877-78. The
pretext for that war was the protection of the members of the Greek
Church against the cruelties and persecutions of the Turkish officials,
and Mr. Gladstone, although out of power at the time in England,
undoubtedly did more to bring it about than any other influence, by the
publication of a pamphlet entitled “The Bulgarian Atrocities.” With
fervid eloquence he described the sufferings of the Christians, and
Eugene Schuyler, then United States consul-general at Constantinople,
prepared a report which furnished the facts to sustain the appeal of
Mr. Gladstone in awakening sympathy and indignation throughout the
civilized world. The state of public feeling justified Alexander II.
of Russia in undertaking to protect and avenge the victims of Moslem
cruelty, who professed the same religion and spoke almost the same
language as himself. While the motives of the Russian government may
not have been entirely disinterested, the crusade was so just that
public opinion overlooked the fact that it had been striving several
hundred years to annex European Turkey to its own great empire and make
Constantinople its southern capital.
Alexander II. was a humane man. He emancipated 40,000,000 of serfs,
and, if his life had been spared a few years longer, he would have
given the Russian people a liberal allowance of self-government and
transformed an autocratic despotism into a constitutional monarchy.
The Bulgarians worship his memory. They have erected a monument in his
honor, and have called their principal park by his name. His portrait
may be seen in the cabins of the peasants as well as in the palace of
the reigning prince. At every stationer’s and news-stand, in every
shop where postage stamps are sold, postal cards bearing his picture
over the title “Liberator of Bulgaria” may be purchased. More of them
are sold than of any other variety and this devotion and gratitude
has continued for nearly a quarter of a century. One of the principal
streets of Sofia is named in honor of Mr. Gladstone, and his portrait
is also printed on postal cards, although I saw no recognition of Mr.
Schuyler’s services to that country.
The blood that was spilled in behalf of Bulgaria in the siege of
Plevna and in the defense of Shipka Pass was not shed in vain; and,
as the price of peace, Russia demanded and Turkey consented in the
Treaty of San Stefano that Bulgaria and Macedonia, known on the map
as Rumelia, should be independent of the Sultan’s authority. But the
other jealous Powers of Europe unfortunately interfered with this
arrangement, and, at a conference in Berlin, created a new nation
called Bulgaria, defining its limits as they appear upon current maps,
but leaving out Macedonia and providing that it should be under “the
direct political and military authority of the Sultan” with a Christian
governor-general. It was also stipulated that religious freedom and
tolerance should be guaranteed by the Turks, and that the people of
the various provinces should have the privilege of electing their
own magistrates and enacting their own laws, subject to the general
approval of the imperial authorities at Constantinople. Various other
important reforms were also promised by the Sultan affecting taxation,
the protection of personal and property rights, and the general welfare
of the people. If these pledges and stipulations had been carried
out according to the letter of the treaty, Rumelia would be a happy,
prosperous and peaceful country to-day, but the Powers at Berlin
must have known that the Sultan of Turkey never kept a promise, and
probably never will, and the childlike faith with which they accepted
his profuse assurances of reform is the most astonishing phenomenon in
political history.
When the great Powers met at Berlin after the close of the
Russo-Turkish war, they told the people of Bulgaria that they might
thereafter manage their own affairs and select their own king, subject
to the approval of the Sultan. They were required to pay him annual
tribute in lieu of the taxes which he used to collect in Bulgaria,
but the amount was not definitely fixed, and the financial relations
of the two countries are in a hopeless muddle, and will some time
require an international commission to adjust them. Bulgaria was also
held responsible for a share of the Turkish national debt, but it has
never been definitely apportioned. As soon as their neighbors had
decided what the Bulgarians must do, an election was ordered, and a
legislative assembly chosen under the supervision of Russian soldiers,
who interfered more or less at the polls, and endeavored to influence
the voting by bulldozing, moral suasion, gilded promises and other
inducements. A curious constitution was also prepared by a shrewd
Russian politician and adopted by the people, although very few of them
were able to comprehend it. In fact, nobody pretends to understand the
document, and it was evidently intended to be ambiguous.
After a good deal of conferring and correspondence the national
assembly selected as their sovereign Prince Alexander of Battenberg, a
man of twenty-four, then holding a commission as lieutenant upon the
staff of his great-uncle, Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany, and stationed at
Potsdam. Alexander was directly or indirectly connected with several
of the reigning families of Europe, and was therefore believed to be
impartial. He was a nephew of the Czar of Russia, and his brother
Henry was the husband of Queen Victoria’s daughter Beatrice. He was
a great favorite with everybody, because of his amiable disposition,
his frank and brave nature and his sterling integrity. The people of
Bulgaria gave him a cordial welcome, and he commenced a series of
reforms, said to have been recommended by Prince Bismarck, who took
great interest in his career. He proved to be a good king, unselfish,
warm-hearted, patriotic and ambitious to promote the welfare of the
people whose destiny he was selected to control. But he was too frank
and honest to cope with the conspirators by whom he was surrounded.
The Bulgarians had been under Turkish bondage for five centuries,
and were unfitted to govern themselves, like all people who have
been subject to tyranny. They were even worse than the Cubans or the
Filipinos. Bismarck said they “had been put into the saddle before they
learned to ride.” The situation was aggravated by the jealousy of the
surrounding nations--Germany, Austria, Russia, Turkey and Greece--which
were inclined to use Bulgaria as a football in their political games.
Russia was disappointed and vindictive because the other Powers had not
permitted her to enjoy the fruits of her victory over the Turks and was
determined to recover control of Bulgaria by intrigue, which has been
done.
The lack of educated natives in Bulgaria made it necessary to fill
nearly all of the important military and civil offices with foreigners,
and the Russians obtained the most influential places. Clever men
were sent from St. Petersburg to cultivate public sentiment and by
mercenary and other means to influence the elections. The parliament,
or _Sobranje_, as it is called, consists of a single chamber, elected
by the votes of all citizens who can read and write. The ministry are
absolutely independent of the chamber, and no parliamentary action can
upset them. They are responsible only to the ruling prince, who also
has entire authority to appoint and dismiss the officers of the army
and the civil service. The only way the _Sobranje_ can control him
is by withholding appropriations, and in case of a deadlock with the
sovereign there is no one to decide.
Bulgaria, without the slightest experience or preparation, was suddenly
transformed into an independent state, with the machinery of the
government entirely in the hands of foreigners, who were not only
jealous, but hostile towards each other.
People say that Alexander lacked judgment and discretion; that he
talked too much; that he was no diplomatist; that he quarreled with
his advisers; that he was lamentably deficient in the arts of the
politician, and was too liberal and lenient to govern a country which
had never known any ruler but a despot. This is probably true. If
Alexander could have had a sagacious and experienced statesman to
guide him, he might have had a different fate. But, under his brief
administration, Bulgaria made extraordinary progress, and if he had
been allowed to remain upon the throne, by this time it would have
advanced to a gratifying position among nations. When he came to Sofia
the entire country was in a state of anarchy, a hundred times worse
than Cuba after the Spanish war. The people had been suffering horrors
that shocked the civilized world, and had been oppressed by cruelty
that cannot be described. Being exasperated into resistance, their
oppressors punished them with sword and torch. The number of victims
is unknown. The British minister, who made an investigation, declared
that not less than 12,000 persons were massacred in a single month by
the Turks. Eugene Schuyler, the American consul then at Constantinople,
put the number at 15,000. The country had been in a state of chronic
revolution for several years and the theater of a war between two
powerful nations whose armies foraged upon the farms, burned the
cities and left desolate a large portion of the territory. Most of the
population had fled to the mountains from their burning homes, and many
of them were too poor and discouraged to repair damages when peace was
restored.
In attempting to regenerate this distracted nation, Alexander of
Battenberg undertook a task more difficult than was attempted by any
other man of his generation. He endeavored to build up a new nation
out of heterogeneous materials, and had little assistance but much
interference from the Powers that had intrusted him with the work. He
is one of the most romantic figures in modern European history. His
frank and cheerful nature, his social charms, his personal courage upon
the field of battle and his heroic attempts to overcome the impossible
won for him the enduring affection of the common people and all
patriotic spirits in Bulgaria, who recognized that he had no motive but
their good. The same qualities, however, made him bitter and relentless
enemies. He was surrounded by ambitious and avaricious adventurers and
corrupt officials whom he dismissed the moment he discovered their
misconduct. He was a poor judge of a rascal. He was so honest and
candid himself that he could not detect the insincerity of others. He
might have overcome these obstacles and defeated the conspiracies that
were constantly formed against him if Alexander II. of Russia, whose
assassination was a sad blow to Bulgaria as well as to his own people,
had lived. He had great confidence in his nephew, Prince Alexander,
loved him like his own son and supported him in every direction, even
against the intrigues of Russian politicians who had been sent to Sofia
to control the government. The people of Bulgaria loved him and still
call him their “Liberator.”
Alexander III., for some reason or other, never liked his cousin
of Battenberg, and soon after ascending the throne called him to
account for his anti-Russian policy in Bulgaria. The explanation
was unsatisfactory. Alexander said he was endeavoring to administer
affairs for the best interests of the people themselves without regard
to foreign complications. His liberality was too great to please the
Czar. He was a Protestant and encouraged education to an extent that
was not appreciated by the clergy of the Greek Church. He granted
freedom to the press, which encouraged the democratic spirit of the
people and strengthened the Liberal party in politics, which was
anti-Russian in its tendencies and even advocated a republican form of
government. Failing to meet the requirements of the Czar, Alexander
found he was no longer allowed to be master in his own house, and that
the Russian officials who surrounded him were taking their orders from
St. Petersburg rather than from their own sovereign. He attempted to
dismiss them and asserted his independence by filling their positions
with native Liberals upon whom he could rely. The Russians retaliated
by one of the most scandalous and shameful conspiracies that has ever
occurred in political history. It might have happened in the Middle
Ages, in the days of the robber barons and the Medicis, but there is
nothing to compare with it in modern times.
At two o’clock on the morning of August 21, 1886, Prince Alexander was
aroused from his slumbers by his valet, who thrust a revolver into his
hand and begged him to flee through an open window. But the prince was
a man to face danger, and, partially dressing himself, stepped into
an ante-room where he found a crowd of Russian officers, some of whom
he had recently dismissed from their positions, and others still in
the employment of the government. They coolly informed him that he had
the option to choose between death and abdication. A Russian officer
tore a blank page out of the visitors’ book that lay upon the table
and attempted to write an abdication, but he was too drunk to do so.
A young cadet from the military academy took the pen and wrote a few
incoherent words at his dictation. With five revolvers pointing at his
head, Alexander calmly read the document and remarked sarcastically:
“Gentlemen, you shall have your way,” and wrote in German the words,
“God protect Bulgaria. Alexander.”
A few moments later he was hustled into a carriage and, guarded by an
escort of Russian officers and cadets from the military academy, which
was in their charge, he was driven at a gallop seventeen miles to a
monastery, where, after a few hours’ rest, an exchange of horses was
made and he was hurried over the Balkan Mountains to the Danube River
and placed upon a yacht.
The conspirators at Sofia, with the aid of the Metropolitan, or
archbishop, of the Greek Church, proclaimed a provisional government;
but Stambouloff, the young president of the parliament, who was
equal to the emergency, declared them to be outlaws, appealed to the
Bulgarians to defend the throne against the Russian conspirators, and
persuaded the parliament to appoint him regent until Prince Alexander
could be restored. It was several days before the latter could be
found. In the meantime he was concealed upon the yacht on the Danube
River. When the facts became known throughout Europe the Russians
were compelled by public sentiment to surrender him, and the Czar
made desperate efforts to exculpate himself from the responsibility.
Nevertheless, not one of the Russian officials who were engaged in the
plot was ever punished or even censured.
Prince Alexander returned to Sofia in triumph, and was enthusiastically
welcomed by the people; but, with characteristic frankness, immediately
telegraphed the Czar:
“I received my crown from Russia. I am ready to return it to the hands
of her sovereign whenever it is demanded.”
The Czar at once replied, as might have been expected, expressing
disapproval of the return of Alexander to Bulgaria and censuring his
administration of affairs. In vain Stambouloff and other Bulgarians
implored their prince to remain and defy Russia, and even threatened
to prevent him by force from abdication, but Alexander declared that
his usefulness was ended, and that it was the only wise course for him
to retire and save the country from a war with Russia. Before doing
so, however, he exacted a pledge from the Czar that he would permit
the Bulgarians to manage their own affairs without interference--a
pledge that was violated within the next thirty days, and has never
been kept in any respect. Then, appointing a regency, Alexander
formally abdicated authority and left the country with the affection
and confidence of the people. He went to Austria, where he remained in
retirement, under the title of Count Hartenau, until his death in 1893.
When Alexander abdicated it was necessary for the Bulgarians to
choose another king, and they selected Prince Waldemar of Denmark, a
brother of the Queen of Great Britain, the dowager Czarina of Russia
and the King of Greece; but, rather than risk a quarrel with his big
brother-in-law at St. Petersburg, who had compelled Alexander to throw
down the crown, Waldemar declined the honor, and a committee was sent
from Sofia to the various capitals of Europe to find a proper man. In
the meantime Stambouloff, president of the _Sobranje_, or parliament,
ruled the country as regent, and his policy was openly and defiantly
anti-Russian. The Czar sent down two commissioners to take the state
in hand. Stambouloff treated them respectfully, but declined to obey
their orders. Two Russian men-of-war soon after appeared in the
harbor of Varna, the principal seaport of Bulgaria, but even that did
not intimidate Stambouloff, and the Russians, becoming disgusted,
recalled all of their countrymen who were holding official and military
positions, and even their minister and consuls, leaving Bulgaria to
its fate. What Alexander III. expected to happen it is difficult to
determine. He probably believed that anarchy would follow and furnish
him an excuse for occupying Bulgaria with an army, but the country
remained at peace. Stambouloff proved to be not only an able but
a satisfactory ruler, and he carried out the policy of the deposed
Alexander of Battenberg in an able and enlightened manner.
[Illustration: HOUSE OF THE SOBRANJE (BULGARIAN NATIONAL ASSEMBLY),
SOFIA]
Stepan Stambouloff was undoubtedly the ablest man that has appeared
upon the Balkan Peninsula for several centuries, and one of the most
extraordinary characters of his generation. Although his faults were
conspicuous, his patriotism was never questioned. His integrity of
purpose shines out like a planet among the vacillating and cowardly
politicians who surrounded him. He was born at the little town of
Tirnovo, the son of a humble innkeeper, and was educated at an
ordinary country school. He came into prominence during the revolution
against Turkish authority previous to the Russo-Turkish war, and,
although barely of age, emerged from that struggle one of the most
conspicuous and influential of the Bulgarian patriots. Although the
new constitution required a man to be thirty years old to be eligible
to the _Sobranje_, he was an active member of that body before he was
twenty-three, and its president before he was twenty-five, and he
occupied that position continuously until he became prime minister
in 1887 at the age of thirty-three years. He was remarkable for his
courage, firmness and determination; he was a natural ruler of men and
always exercised a remarkable influence over every person who came in
contact with him. It used to be said that his enemies were always his
friends so long as they remained in his presence. He was gifted with
the highest degree of skill as a politician, and would have been a
political dictator if he had lived in a republic. Among the ignorant
and inexperienced population of Bulgaria he was able to exercise an
influence that was absolute, and the _Sobranje_ was almost unanimous
in his support. No doubt Stambouloff’s methods were often questionable.
He believed that the end justified the means, and never hesitated to
employ any measures he thought necessary to accomplish a purpose. He
was arbitrary, cruel and vindictive. The savage nature of the Bulgarian
mountaineers, from whom he came, frequently appeared in his manners and
disposition. He lacked polish and was indifferent to suffering; but his
entire career is an example of unselfish integrity. He devoted his life
and his talents to promoting the welfare of his fellow countrymen, and
never asked an advantage for himself. He died poorer than he was born,
although for seven years he was in absolute control of the Bulgarian
finances and for ten years previous was able to command anything in the
way of remuneration that he desired.
Recognizing that public sentiment in Europe would not approve an empty
throne in Bulgaria, Stambouloff dispatched a deputation to find a king.
They made advances to several cadets of the royal houses, but found it
very difficult to select a man of proper qualifications who was not so
involved by ties of relationship as to excite jealousy among the great
Powers. The story goes that they were on their way back to Bulgaria
when they met an acquaintance in a beer garden at Vienna. Learning
their business, he remarked:
“That young officer sitting at the table yonder is just the man you
want. He is Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, grandson of Louis
Philippe of France, and a cousin of every crowned head in Europe. He is
a favorite of the Emperor of Austria and the Emperor of Russia and a
man of great wealth.”
At that time Ferdinand held a commission in the Austrian army and was
stationed in Vienna. The committee accepted the suggestion eagerly,
conferred with the prime minister of Austria the next morning,
communicated with Stambouloff at Sofia by telegraph, and within
forty-eight hours offered the throne of Bulgaria to the young prince,
who was not yet twenty-four years of age. The selection was approved
by all the European Powers except Russia. Czar Alexander III. had
no personal objection to the prince, but his policy was to boycott
Bulgaria as long as Stambouloff and the Liberal party, then in power,
continued to defy him.
The regents resigned, Prince Ferdinand ascended the throne, and
appointed Stambouloff to the post of prime minister, which he occupied
continuously until May, 1894. During that time he absolutely controlled
the policy of the government and the opinions of the prince. For
the first three or four years the two got on without friction, and
Ferdinand was a willing agent of his minister; but as he grew older,
particularly after his marriage in 1893, he became restless under the
yoke, showed signs of independence, and, probably through the influence
of his wife, began to yearn for the social and official recognition
of Russia, which up to that time had absolutely ignored him. If
Stambouloff had shown more tact in dealing with his sovereign and more
deference towards the bride the latter had brought to Bulgaria, he
might have continued at the head of the government indefinitely, but
he made no effort to conceal, either from the public or the court, the
fact that the prince was merely his puppet, and when the latter showed
signs of self-assertion drew the curb even more firmly upon him. The
Princess Marie Louise of Bourbon, daughter of the Duke of Parma, whom
Ferdinand married in 1893, first aroused his pride and stimulated
his independence, and finally acquired sufficient influence over her
husband to persuade him to resist Stambouloff.
Both she and Ferdinand were ambitious to advance their position and
power. Instead of being registered in the almanacs as “princes” they
wanted to be called king and queen, and actually had crowns made at
Munich in anticipation of a favorable vote in the _Sobranje_. But
Stambouloff, who despised pomp and pretensions like the true democrat
that he was, and looked forward to a time when Bulgaria should have
a republican form of government, opposed the aspirations of his
sovereigns, and a quarrel occurred which ended with his retirement from
the ministry and the selection of Mr. Stoiloff, his bitterest enemy,
as his successor. Stambouloff might have weathered the storm but for
his own arrogance and a domestic scandal in which his most trusted
subordinate was involved. In a moment of pique and anger he wrote a
hasty letter, resigning the office of prime minister, which the prince,
under the influence of his wife, was only too glad to receive and
promptly accept.
Immediately after, following the example of his great prototype,
the Bulgarian Bismarck unbosomed himself to a sympathetic friend
who happened to be correspondent of a German newspaper, and in most
sarcastic and disrespectful terms discussed the weaknesses of his
sovereign and the Princess Marie, and grossly violated confidence by
relating several amusing and rather humiliating incidents that had
occurred during his experience with them. This indiscretion was the
ruin of Stambouloff. The interview was republished with unfavorable
comments in every city of Europe and in all the Bulgarian papers; even
those that had formerly given him a cordial support. The public was
disgusted and the indignation of the royal household knew no bounds.
Prince Ferdinand actually went into court with a suit for defamation of
character against his former prime minister; he discharged from office
every man who was suspected of being a sympathizer of Stambouloff;
ordered the arrest of several of the ex-minister’s confidential
associates for malfeasance; revoked pensions that he had granted to
those who had served their country faithfully under Stambouloff’s
direction; confiscated the property of several of his supporters and by
other means terrified almost every man in Bulgaria who had been loyal
to Stambouloff. The Bulgarians are a fickle people, and within a few
weeks were ready to stone their former idol. His fall was complete.
Even the parliament, which he had absolutely controlled so long, passed
a law confiscating his property, although it was almost worthless.
Stambouloff attempted to escape from the storm, but, by order of the
prince, the police forbade him to leave the country.
Russia took advantage of the situation to encourage Ferdinand’s spirit
of independence, and immediately after the dismissal of Stambouloff
removed the boycott that had been declared against Bulgaria seven years
before. The Czar Nicholas recognized Ferdinand in a formal manner
and sent a diplomatic agent to Sofia, who has gradually acquired an
influence over the prince and a control over the government that are
now almost absolute. Ferdinand might as well be the governor of a
Russian province.
Although the recognition from Russia which he yearned for was finally
obtained, Prince Ferdinand has entirely forfeited the respect of Europe
and the confidence of the other Powers, because of certain events that
have occurred in Sofia since the change of ministry. One night in
July, 1895, a little more than a year after his retirement, and when
he was beginning to show signs of recovering his political influence,
Stambouloff was cruelly assassinated while walking home from his club.
One of the assassins was identified without the slightest difficulty by
Stambouloff himself, by a friend who accompanied him and by a servant
who was following them. Three men were engaged in the crime. Their
leader was a political adventurer named Michael Stavreff, or Michael
Malieu as he is usually called, who had been identified with the
Russian party in Sofia and had frequently been employed by the Russian
minister on confidential missions.
It was firmly believed by the friends of Stambouloff and the members
of the anti-Russian element from the beginning that Stavreff was hired
to commit the murder, and the fact that the assassin was permitted to
remain unpunished, and was not even arrested was assumed to be evidence
that the government sympathized with the crime. The indifference of
Prince Ferdinand excited unfavorable comment throughout Europe, and he
has never recovered the respect of the courts or the people. Stavreff
was a familiar object of interest about Sofia, a habitué of the cafés,
and an active participant in political affairs, being frequently
pointed out to strangers as the man who assassinated Stambouloff, the
prime minister; and while he never acknowledged his guilt, seemed
to enjoy his notoriety. His source of revenue was a matter of some
curiosity, and it was the popular opinion that he was drawing a pension
from the government or from some person in power.
As his intemperate habits grew upon him he lost control of his tongue,
and frequently uttered mysterious hints of secrets which he might
disclose if certain prominent officials did not treat him with greater
consideration. He became reckless in gambling as well as dissipation,
and his losses made him bolder and less discreet in his allusions,
until in October 24, 1902, he was arrested, secretly tried in prison
with great haste, and condemned to death for the assassination of
Stambouloff more than seven years previous. It was officially announced
that he had made a full confession of his guilt.
Shortly after this announcement there appeared upon the streets of
Sofia lithographed facsimiles of letters in the handwriting of Mr.
Ludskanoff, the minister of the interior, who had ordered the arrest
and execution of Stavreff, showing conclusively that he had employed
that desperado to murder not only Stambouloff, but also Mr. Vulkovitch,
who, until his death in 1892, in ability and influence was second only
to Stambouloff in the anti-Russian party. At that time Ludskanoff
was the leader of the pro-Russian faction, and fled from the country
to escape arrest for complicity in the assassination of Vulkovitch.
Stambouloff issued a decree of perpetual banishment against him, and he
did not return to Bulgaria until a proclamation of universal amnesty
was issued after Stambouloff’s death. Upon his return Ludskanoff,
who is a man of force and ability, resumed his former prominence in
politics, entered the parliament, and for several years has been a
member of the ministry, and an obedient tool of Russian influence.
The publication of the incriminating letters naturally created a
profound sensation, especially as they were followed, in a few days,
by several others of similar character, and caused a dissolution of
the cabinet. It was immediately reorganized, however, and Ludskanoff
was reappointed to the ministry of the interior; the prime minister,
Mr. Kavachoff, explaining that the proclamation of amnesty was a
full pardon for any offenses with which his colleagues might have
been connected, which seems to have been satisfactory to the Russian
sympathizers.
The police were not able to ascertain the source of the mysterious
publications, but it was the popular opinion that the letters were
intrusted by Stavreff to loyal friends to be used for his protection
in an emergency. They appear to have served their purpose, for at this
writing Stavreff has not been executed, although he still remains in
solitary confinement under sentence of death.
In 1900 Prince Ferdinand was guilty of another act of an entirely
different character, which brought down upon him the undisguised
condemnation of every Catholic country and civilization generally. Upon
his marriage with Marie Louise of Orleans, Ferdinand made a vow that
their children should be baptized and educated in the Roman Catholic
Church. This was one of the stipulations insisted upon by the father
and family of the bride. Ferdinand is himself a Roman Catholic by
birth and baptism. He has erected a chapel in the palace, has a Roman
Catholic chaplain, and attends mass each morning at seven o’clock.
While making his annual visits to an Austrian watering-place he never
fails to attend mass daily at a public church, and has otherwise shown
a devout and consistent spirit. But no sooner was his wife buried in
1899 than he placed his eldest son, the Crown Prince Boris, a child
five years old and the future king of Bulgaria, in charge of a Russian
priest of the Greek Church, who secretly baptized and is now educating
the boy in that faith. This is said to have been done at the suggestion
of Russia, but no one believes that the Czar thinks any better of him
for it, while the Emperor of Austria, the King of Italy, the German
Emperor and other sovereigns of Europe have publicly expressed their
disapproval of the proceeding. The other children are being brought up
in the faith of their parents.
Prince Ferdinand of Bulgaria spends very little time at his capital.
There is not much there to attract his interest. The affairs of
state are carefully looked after by Mr. Bakhmeteff, the Russian
representative, and the members of the ministry; social and
intellectual diversions are almost unknown, and the prince has a hobby
which he can pursue with greater satisfaction at Varna, where he has a
country palace on the shores of the Black Sea. He is an accomplished
naturalist, and spends much of his time hunting and classifying
insects, plants and other phenomena of animate and inanimate nature.
He has catalogued nearly all the flora and fauna of Bulgaria and has
established in Sofia a very respectable zoölogical garden at his own
expense.
Although a grandson of Louis Philippe, the prince has the nose of
Louis Napoleon, and is said to bear a singular resemblance to the
last emperor of France, both in disposition and character. His nose
is a gratification to the caricaturists. It is so conspicuous that
it answers for a trade-mark, and they are able to play upon it
with great ingenuity. He is altogether a clever and accomplished
gentleman, a skillful politician with an accommodating conscience,
and very different from his predecessor, Alexander of Battenberg. He
has inherited the manners of his French ancestors, as well as their
insincerity, and can wriggle out of a tight place, they say, more
gracefully than any other prince in Europe. Alexander was a Lutheran
and encouraged Protestant missionary work. Ferdinand does not object
to the missionary invasion, because the constitution guarantees free
worship and the police protect the Protestants in case of disturbance.
Prince Ferdinand had a brief but happy married life. Marie Louise lived
about six years after marriage and had four children--Boris, born
January 30, 1894; Cyril, born November 17, 1895; Eudoxie, born January
17, 1898, and Madeja, born January 30, 1899. The late Queen died on the
day following the birth of her youngest child. They are all interesting
children, and are being carefully trained after European methods.
The patron saint of Bulgaria is St. John of Ryle, although Christianity
was introduced into the country by St. Methodias. Originally a
shepherd, John of Ryle became a monk and ascetic, and lived for twenty
years in the hollow of an oak tree in the mountains that divide
Bulgaria and Macedonia, which are now called by his name. He then
removed to an inaccessible rock, under which was afterwards built in
his honor what is known as the Ryle Monastery. It is an extensive
building of medieval architecture and one of the most picturesque
objects in Bulgaria. It lies in the midst of beautiful mountain
scenery two days’ journey south of Sofia, and is frequently visited by
tourists, who are hospitably entertained by the monks.
[Illustration: MONASTERY OF ST. JOHN OF RYLE, BULGARIA]
The old monastery has come to considerable notoriety recently, because
of a report that Miss Stone was concealed within its walls, and the
building was thoroughly searched by the soldiers under orders from the
government at Sofia. This invasion and profanation of the holy place
caused great indignation among members of the Greek Church throughout
Bulgaria, who blamed the American missionaries and threatened
reprisals. The hostility of the monks against missionary proselyting
is much more bitter and vindictive than is shown by the regular parish
clergy, because the latter as a rule are better educated. They mingle
with the world, and therefore are more liberal in their views on all
subjects.
It is not altogether certain that the monks of St. Ryle were blameless
of complicity in Miss Stone’s abduction, but there is no proof that
they had any share in or knowledge of the outrage. The suspicion
is based upon knowledge of previous circumstances. Their relation
with the brigands has always been friendly, and in olden times the
secluded situation of the monastery made it a convenient rendezvous
for enterprising gentlemen who ordinarily pursued peaceful vocations
in the fields and pastures, but took to the road whenever tempted by
favorable opportunities or pressed by necessity. They are said to have
given liberally of their booty to the monks and to have brought to
their table much game and other food supplies from the mountains. In
return for this generosity the monks often afforded them an asylum when
they were pressed by the police, gave them shelter in stormy weather,
concealed their arms and ammunition, and permitted them to use the
monastery as a meeting place before and after their raids. It would
be perfectly natural for the bandits who captured Miss Stone to take
their captives to St. Ryle for the night or for a longer period if
they happened to be in that locality, and, acting upon this knowledge
of their habits, the government ordered the place to be searched.
The monastery has withstood many a siege, and has been the scene of
slaughter and suffering as well as devotion during every epoch of
Bulgarian history. The fanaticism of the Moslems is recorded upon the
frescoes that represent Christian saints and legends, by numerous
gashes made by scimiters and punctures by yataghans. The cells are damp
and narrow and without creature comforts, but the holy fathers seem
to be contented, and judging from their appearance have not entirely
denied themselves carnal pleasures.
John of Ryle lived in the tenth century and died in the year 976. St.
Methodias lived from 852 to 888. The monastery was originally built in
the eleventh century. In those days Bulgaria was a powerful nation,
and its opulence and the magnificence of its court were the wonder of
the world. The ruins of the palaces of the Bulgarian czars at Tirnova,
the ancient capital, are extensive and still show evidences of their
original splendor. The walls were decorated with gold and inlaid with
mosaics of gilded glass. The pillars were of polished marble, and much
bronze was used in ornamentation. In the early chronicles we catch a
glimpse of the czar who sat upon a throne of ivory ornamented with
gold, silver and precious stones, in an audience chamber of marble.
His robe was trimmed with pearls, his girdle glistened with diamonds,
his armor tinkled with the chains of gold coin that hung about his
neck and shoulders. The bracelets, anklets and collars which he wore
were embossed with jewels of great price, and his scepter was set with
rubies, diamonds, sapphires and other precious stones, like those
that can now be seen among the relics of early Russian history in the
Kremlin at Moscow.
Tirnova, the ancient capital, still stands, a picturesque study, upon
the rocky walls of a rapid river. Its streets run up and down the
slopes of the hills; its houses are perched upon rocks. Ingenious
warriors in olden times utilized the limestone cliffs which surround
it and rise to altitudes of seven or eight hundred feet, for
fortifications, partly natural and partly artificial. Among them appear
groups of gayly painted houses separated by the heavy foliage of the
venerable trees and luxurious gardens. The domes of the Greek churches,
the minarets of the mosques, the clock towers, steeples and the French
roofs of modern buildings form a curious architectural medley. The East
and West meet in this romantic little place, where nature seems to have
forbidden a city to be built.
In the center of the town, upon the longest street, is a natural
bridge of stone spanning a deep chasm, through which the river Jantra
flows. It is not so high nor so wide by half as the natural bridge of
Virginia, but is equally curious, and being in the center of a city is,
of course, of greater interest. Some historians assert that both the
causeway and the chasm were cut by human hands as a protection to the
citadel which stands upon the other side. If this is true it was an
ingenious device, and before the days of gunpowder and heavy artillery
the place must have been impregnable.
Ancient history occasionally appears in a most startling manner,
and it is often difficult to realize that you are actually gazing
upon buildings and scenes that are identified with the most romantic
episodes of human history. Here, in the tower of this picturesque
castle, Baldwin, the Frank crusader who accompanied Richard the
Lion-Hearted and became Emperor of Constantinople, was confined as a
prisoner. He was defeated at Adrianople by the Bulgarian army under
the Czar Kalojan, and brought to Tirnova, where he was imprisoned
for several years, and is said to have been buried alive. They call
it “Baldwin’s Tower,” and although partially ruined it is still
sufficiently preserved to give one an idea of its original appearance,
and its walls and windows look out upon one of the most beautiful views
in the world.
Attached to the palace of the Bulgarian czars were gardens filled with
fruit trees and flowering plants whose traces still remain until the
present day. Wherever the earth is turned or a cellar is dug for a new
building, vestiges of former grandeur and sometimes relics of the Roman
occupation are disclosed. Lying by the roadside are mutilated remains
of marble pillars and pedestals; capitals with bulls’ heads and wreaths
exquisitely carved; discs of glazed pottery and gilded glass; pieces of
molding with bronze still clinging to them; quartz enameled with colors
and gold, and sometimes fragments of plaster still retaining the colors
of a fresco.
X THE PEOPLE OF BULGARIA
Bulgaria is about as big as Pennsylvania, has a similar shape, and
reminds one very much of that State, because of the resemblance in
topography and other physical features. The forests and the rivers
watering rich valleys, the mountain ranges, the rocky ledges, and the
landscape generally are very much like the Quaker State. The population
is about thirty per cent less. The Danube River forms the northern
boundary of Bulgaria, and much of the produce of the state goes out,
and much of its imported merchandise comes in upon enormous barges
towed in strings from Budapest and from Vienna. Austria monopolizes
the trade in manufactured merchandise. During the summer season the
passenger steamers on the Danube offer a very pleasant voyage through
Hungary, Servia, Bulgaria and Roumania to the Black Sea, but in the dry
season in the fall the water is low, fogs are frequent and the air is
too cool to sit on the deck, hence a trip by train is more agreeable.
You can go to Sofia from Vienna by rail in twenty-four hours in
comfortable sleeping-cars and good dining-cars, in which _table d’hôte_
meals are served at city prices, but the fares are very high.
The Orient Express, which is the great railway train of Europe,
and runs from Calais and Ostend through Germany and France to
Constantinople three times a week, is a pretentious humbug when judged
by American standards. The distance between Vienna and Sofia is about
the same as between Philadelphia and Pittsburg, but it takes twice
as long to make the journey, and the fare is about four times as
much. The extra fare, or supplement, as they call it, demanded for
the privilege of riding upon this famous train, is forty-four francs
between those two cities, or $8.40, which is about full fare between
Philadelphia and Pittsburg, and instead of getting a wide berth in a
Pullman sleeper for $2 you have to pay $3.80 for a night’s lodging in
a stuffy little closet. The beds are comfortable, but the space is
so narrow that it is scarcely safe to roll over, and the only way to
ventilate the compartment is to open a window directly over your head.
The ordinary trains are only two hours slower than the Orient Express;
they are equally well equipped, run every day and the charge is only
about one-half as much.
Bulgaria has several railroads, running to the Black Sea, to Bucharest
and to Salonika on the Mediterranean, in addition to the trunk line
to Constantinople. They belong to the government, and seem to be
well managed, although they make very slow time. The Orient Express
sometimes works up a speed of twenty miles an hour, but averages about
eighteen, and that is considered remarkable. The entire railway system
aggregates nine hundred and nine miles, with one hundred and thirty
miles of new track under construction. Telephone and telegraph wires,
belonging to the government, are stretched all over the country, the
telephone service being a great improvement upon that of Germany,
which, however, is the worst I have ever found--so bad that foreigners
will not use a telephone if they can possibly avoid it. I have often
thought that perhaps some of the German parts of speech are too big
to send over an ordinary wire, that perhaps the wear and tear of the
telephone instruments is too great for them to endure; but an eminent
professor in the University of Berlin, to whom I suggested this one
evening, thought I was in earnest and punished my impudence by holding
me up in a corner for half an hour while he demonstrated the absurdity
of the proposition. Moral--Never try to joke with German professors.
The eastern boundary of Bulgaria is the Black Sea; on the west
is the Kingdom of Servia, and on the south the Rhodope chain of
mountains divides it from the Turkish province of Eastern Rumelia,
or Macedonia, as that portion situated south of Bulgaria is commonly
called. The Balkan Mountains, like the Alleghanies in Pennsylvania,
bisect the country and divide it into two provinces. In some parts we
find beautiful undulating landscapes and at intervals long expanses
of elevated plateaus varying from twelve hundred to two thousand
feet above the sea, which lie between the mountain ranges. These
plains are irrigated and drained by several important streams, the
most interesting being the Jantra, which winds among the mountains
through high limestone gorges, and furnishes a picturesque feature to
the topography. There are no large cities in Bulgaria, but several
important towns, each of which has its marked peculiarities:
POPULATION
Sofia 46,593
Rustchuk 37,174
Tirnova 25,295
Shumla 23,517
Plevna 23,178
Razgrad 21,551
Orehovo 20,054
Philippopolis 41,068
Varna 28,174
Orehovitsa 25,013
Slivno 23,210
Tatar Pazarjik 22,056
Vidin 29,044
There are several other towns of less than twenty thousand and more
than ten thousand population, but three-fourths of the inhabitants
are engaged in agricultural and pastoral pursuits, most of them being
small farmers, cultivating from one to six acres, and having large
flocks and herds which graze at large. Theoretically, the state owns
all the land, and the people are tenants with perpetual leases,
descending from generation to generation, who pay one-tenth of all
their products to the state, usually in kind, in lieu of rental and
taxes. The pasture land is free, and is held in common by unwritten and
unrecorded titles by those who occupy it with their flocks and herds.
The forests have also been free until recently, and anyone who chose
to do so was at liberty to cut whatever timber he needed for his own
use without payment, but the police exercised a supervisory authority
to prevent the wholesale destruction of the trees for commercial
purposes. Forty-seven per cent of the entire territory is in pasture,
and sheep, goats, cattle, horses and pigs are raised in large numbers.
The wool product of Bulgaria is the greatest source of wealth, and
is sent to Austria and Germany. The exports of hides and skins are
next in value, not less than five million sheep pelts being shipped
annually. The principal agricultural product is wheat, which goes to
Germany and Turkey, and a very important and profitable industry is the
distillation of attar of roses, which is carried on in the provinces
bordering on the Black Sea.
The Bulgarians have a language of their own, a sort of dialect of the
Russian, which bears the same relation to that language as the Scotch
bears to the English. There are Greek letters in their alphabet and
Greek words in their vocabulary, but the language is Slavonic. No
Bulgarian could understand a Greek, and vice versa, and a Russian
peasant could not converse with a Bulgarian peasant any more readily
than a Highlander could talk with a costermonger from Whitechapel,
because each has his local idioms; but educated Russians and Bulgarians
can understand each other even if each talks in his own language.
Russians can read Bulgarian newspapers very readily. Philologists are
of the opinion that the Bulgarian language is quite as close to the
old Slav tongue as the Russian, and it is a curious fact that many
words may be traced to the old Thracian and Illyrian tongues. The Slavs
drove the original population into the mountains and seized their lands
on the plains, but in the second half of the seventh century a horde
of uncouth warriors crossed the Danube and subjugated the Slavs, and
their descendants have since occupied the territory which bears their
name. The Bulgarians are of mysterious origin. The source from which
they came has never been satisfactorily determined. Some ethnologists
argue that they were Finns, others believe they were Tartars, but the
greatest weight of evidence seems to fix their former residence on
the banks of the Volga River. They were without a history, which is a
singular thing for so vigorous, progressive and intelligent a race. It
is a curious coincidence that the Bulgarians lost their language but
kept their name, while the Slavs, whom they subdued, lost their name
but kept their language.
Sofia, the capital and commercial center, is situated in the
southwestern corner of Bulgaria on an elevated plain, at the base of
Mount Vitosch, a beautiful peak seven thousand eight hundred feet high.
Its head is usually clothed in the clouds, and perpetual snow lies in
the wrinkles upon its face. The cloud movements and other atmospheric
effects add greatly to its picturesqueness, and in autumn the forests
which cover its breast are vivid with scarlet and yellow foliage,
which reaches to the snow line and affords a striking and lovely
contrast. The base of the mountain is only a few miles from the city,
and excursions to it are one of the few amusements in which foreigners
can indulge in warm weather. They have very little diversion. There
are no theaters--only one little vaudeville show--no concerts, except
occasionally by a military band attached to the palace, and only
a limited amount of social entertainment. The foreign colony must
therefore find its fun in driving, riding, picnicking and playing
tennis. Golf has not been introduced, for the natives take little
interest in such sports. The foreign colony is small, and limited
almost entirely to the diplomatic representatives of the European
countries. A few Austrians and Germans are engaged in business affairs,
several Belgian engineers run the electric-light and street-car lines,
and there are one Englishman and two or three Americans, mostly
missionary teachers.
[Illustration: ROYAL PALACE AT SOFIA]
The city covers a considerable area, and looks as if a building boom
had been suddenly checked, which is true. Prince Alexander was a
great promoter. Under his administration Bulgaria made extraordinary
progress, and Sofia started upon a promising career. Stambouloff took
up the work where Alexander left it at his abdication, and carried out
many of his schemes, but since the “Bulgarian Bismarck” was relieved as
prime minister, little has been done in the way of public or private
improvement. The stagnation is said to be due in a measure to a lack of
confidence in the stability of the present government, and to the
fact that Prince Ferdinand is interested in other things. One must
infer that he takes little pride in the appearance of his capital and
does not encourage the expenditure of money upon public works.
Shortly before he retired, Stambouloff purchased an entire block
of ground opposite the palace, upon which he intended to erect a
magnificent building for the offices of the government. The plans
were drawn by an Austrian architect, excavations were made for the
foundation and cellars, and a large quantity of cut stone was delivered
by the contractors. A few days after Stambouloff’s retirement work was
suspended and has never been resumed. Several train loads of granite
lie scattered over the ground; the cellar is half-filled with water
during the wet season and overgrown with weeds during the dry months.
Every stranger who comes to Sofia instinctively asks an explanation,
but Prince Ferdinand, who always has this reproachful panorama before
him, seems to be entirely indifferent to it. The palace is a fine
building in French style, surrounded by pleasant grounds, and facing a
public park that is well laid out with foliage plants and fountains,
and is a pleasure ground for the people.
The old city, or the Turkish quarter, as it is called, resembles a
patch of Constantinople, and has the low adobe walls, the heavy tiled
roofs, the deep windows and the narrow streets of all oriental cities,
with long blocks of bazaars kept by Turks and Jews, who have most of
their wares displayed upon the sidewalks. This is by far the most
interesting section of the town to strangers. The shops are open, so
that the visitor is enabled to watch the artisans at their work. The
trades seem to be grouped together--the shoemakers in one bunch, the
tailors in another, the butchers, bakers, brassworkers, tinsmiths and
other people in the same trade occupying adjoining houses.
Most of the natives wear unshorn sheepskin clothing, with the wool next
to the body, the leather side being tanned to a soft white, velvety
appearance like buckskin; and the most interesting occupation is that
of the tailors, who make all sorts of queer-looking garments from
sheepskins. Many of the men wear short jackets of the Eton pattern, but
as the weather grows colder they change them for warmer garments, and
some have long ulsters with wide skirts which reach to their heels.
The rest of their clothing is the natural color of the wool woven
into heavy fabrics; their headgear is made of lamb’s wool curled like
the skating caps sometimes worn in the United States. They are called
_kalpaks_.
In the new part of the city the streets are wide, and in the business
portion are lined with fine buildings of stuccoed brick, ornamented
with elaborate moldings similar to those of Germany and Austria. The
residence portion is only partially built up, there being wide gaps
between the houses, showing the town lots that have been held for
speculative purposes and where building schemes have been abandoned.
If Sofia were as closely built as the ordinary European city it could
accommodate three times its present population. Occasionally a stately
residence rises from behind a forbidding wall. The foliage around it
indicates a garden, but Bulgarian civilization has not passed the
period when it is prudent to omit any means of protection. The streets
and sidewalks are in a horrible condition. In the business portion of
the city the roadways are paved with cobblestones and the sidewalks
are well laid with flags, tiles and bricks. Each householder in
the residence portion is expected to lay the sidewalk in front of his
premises, but many of them neglect to do so.
[Illustration: BUSINESS STREET IN SOFIA]
Several imposing buildings were erected for government purposes during
the reign of Prince Alexander, usually of French architecture, and
among other things a Protestant church (he was a Lutheran), which
Ferdinand has converted into a riding-school. The military barracks,
schoolhouses, the public printing office, a technical school and other
public buildings are creditable, but lose much of their dignity by
being scattered over the city, with unsightly spaces of open ground and
half-finished buildings that have been abandoned between them. Several
former Turkish mosques have been converted to secular uses and are now
occupied as prisons, markets, warehouses and arsenals. The largest
mosque, in the center of the city, and only a stone’s throw from the
palace, was recently fitted up for a national museum.
Although Sofia is still primitive in many respects, modern ideas are
rapidly growing in favor and there is nothing in the new part of
the town to recall the recent Turkish occupation. The citizens very
generally wear modern European clothing. The only place one can see
the native costume is at the market in the early morning, where the
country people bring vegetables and dairy products for sale. There
are two hotels with comfortable rooms and excellent tables, a club
that would be an ornament to any city in Europe, and other features of
modern civilization quite as advanced as are to be found in Austria
or Germany. The streets, public buildings, hotels and many private
houses are lighted by electricity. Electric street-cars run in every
direction, owned and managed by a Belgian company. The fare is three
cents for first-class passengers and two cents for second-class. The
cars are divided in the middle by a partition, and the only difference
between the two classes is that one sits upon red-plush cushions and
the other upon wooden benches. The conductors change the cushions from
one part of the car to the other at each end of the trip.
The Bulgarian army is composed of thirty thousand men, well drilled,
equipped in the German style, and organized by Russian officers
upon the Russian system. Every man between the ages of twenty and
twenty-four years is obliged to do military duty for four years,
although Mohammedans may escape service by the payment of a special
tax. Persons exempted on account of infirmities are also required to
pay special taxes. On an average forty thousand young men become of
military age annually, but, as the government does not need and cannot
pay so many, about one-third of this number are drawn by lot for
service, so that the actual time spent in the army is two years instead
of five as required by law. The reserves, numbering about 200,000,
can be called into service upon a few days’ notice, provided there is
money in the treasury to meet the expense. There is a military academy
at Sofia at which officers are educated, and to enter that institution
and graduate with a commission in the army is the highest ambition
of every Bulgarian youth. The officers about town are a handsome lot
of fellows, with pleasant manners, fine physique, intelligent faces
and soldierly carriage. The natives are all natural horsemen, and a
squadron of Bulgarian cavalry is a worthy object of admiration. The
uniforms are similar to those of Germany. None but an expert could
distinguish the difference, and the garrison of Sofia must be very
large, because uniformed men are so numerous in the streets. The army
is kept up to a high degree of efficiency because trouble with Turkey
is always anticipated, and may occur at any moment. The Bulgarians
have dedicated themselves as a nation to the emancipation of their
neighbors and relatives in Macedonia, and are only waiting a favorable
opportunity to strike. Their great difficulty is money. Their treasury
is empty and their national credit is exhausted, but they will seize
every opportunity that is offered for a _coup d’état_. Politics seems
to monopolize the attention of everybody, and the entire Bulgarian
population is involved in a perpetual intrigue with the freedom of the
Macedonians as its object.
[Illustration: MILITARY CLUB AT SOFIA]
The native horses are small, but nervy and enduring. Domesticated
buffaloes of the Asiatic species are used for draft animals. They are
not so noble in appearance as the great American bison. Their necks
are not shaggy, their heads are smaller and more like that of ordinary
oxen. Their coats are smooth and sleek, and the only resemblance to the
bison which formerly roamed over our prairies is the horns.
There are several excellent schools in Sofia. The technical school
at the foot of the mountain in the suburbs of the city is a model
institution, and one of the most interesting and complete of its kind
I have ever visited. It gives a practical training in the trades and
applied sciences to one hundred or more young men. The standard of
education is not high, but that is not needed in Bulgaria. What the
country requires is a practical training of its mechanics in the
different trades, as the people are generally devoted to agriculture
and most of the artisans are foreigners.
The working classes are comparatively well off. There is no lack of
employment for all those who are willing to work, and there is a
growing demand for skilled mechanics, who receive much higher wages
than in Germany and Austria. Masons, carpenters, cabinet-makers,
painters, stone-cutters and other skilled laborers earn from $1.25 to
$2.50 a day, and ordinary laborers earn from forty to eighty cents a
day, which is nearly double the average earnings of people of the same
classes in other European countries.
Meat and vegetables are cheap, and the diet of the laboring people is
much more nourishing than is usual throughout Europe. The family of a
Bulgarian laborer is quite as well fed as are their brethren in the
United States. Except in the large cities the peasantry live upon their
own produce and dress in garments of sheepskin, cotton or wool, that
are made by themselves. Taxes are moderate, compared with Germany and
France; they are no greater than in Norway and Sweden, although the
peasants complain bitterly of the extravagance of Prince Ferdinand and
the amount of money spent for military purposes. The working classes
are ardent politicians and are devoted to the cause of Macedonian
freedom. They contribute their money as liberally and as patiently
as the servant girls in the United States to the Irish cause, and
their faith is not weakened by the knowledge that the funds are often
squandered in dissipation by their leaders.
The administration of justice is mild, the police system is purely
political, and, while the management of the courts is perhaps not as
perfect as in more highly civilized countries, I am told that bribery
is unknown. Political influence, and particularly the “pull” of the
Macedonian Committee, is all-powerful, however. It is practically out
of the question to convict of crime any man who has been active or
conspicuous in this patriotic movement. It appears possible for any
disreputable fellow to violate all the ten commandments with impunity
so long as he goes about the cafés shouting the battle cry of freedom
for Macedonia.
The Jewish population of the Bulgarian cities is quite large and
practically monopolizes the banking and mercantile business. They are
the descendants of the large colony of Jews who were expelled from
Spain during the reigns of Ferdinand and Isabella and Philip II. and
found their way by the Mediterranean to the Balkan Provinces. The
Spanish language is still spoken in their intercourse among themselves.
While the Jews are not persecuted in Bulgaria as in Roumania, they
are ostracized and subjected to much injustice. It is not considered
dishonest to swindle a Jew if such a thing is possible, and they are
contemptuously and roughly treated; but, on the other hand, they are
in a great measure to blame for the prejudice against them because of
their sharp practices and extortionate methods in business affairs.
They have no mercy upon a Christian if he once gets into their power,
and the spirit of retaliation seems quite as strong with them as with
their enemies.
Generally speaking, Bulgaria has no manufactories, although mechanical
industries of various sorts are being introduced upon a small scale.
There is plenty of convenient water-power and raw material. The mineral
wealth of the country is mythical. There are stories of deposits of
coal and ores in the mountains, but they are unexplored. Ninety-five
per cent of the population are engaged in agriculture, and the
peasants are in a fairly prosperous condition. They are ingenious as
well as industrious, but show little tendency to make use of modern
improvements and foreign merchandise, or to depart from the habits of
thrift so characteristic of their race. It pays them well to produce
and export cattle, sheep, hides, wool, wheat, corn, tobacco, the oil
of roses, fruits and vegetables, and to supply their own wants by the
work of their own hands as far as possible. Most of their clothing is
of wool, grown and sheared upon their own farms, spun and woven in
their own cabins, cut and made by the members of their own household.
Formerly large quantities of cotton goods were imported from England
and Germany, but they have learned that cotton will grow in Bulgaria,
and a little patch is now found beside nearly every cabin, which is
ginned, spun and woven by the women, like the wool.
Their taste is artistic. The women do beautiful embroidery, and their
cotton garments are often handsomely decorated. It is difficult to buy
these embroideries, because the work is home-made and intended for home
use. The peasants are well-to-do. Their wealth is not only apparent in
the flocks and herds which they have accumulated since the emancipation
from Turkish tyranny twenty-three years ago, but it is believed
that they have large sums of money concealed about their premises.
Their experience with avaricious Turkish officials taught them great
caution, for in the old days no man could accumulate property without
endangering his liberty and usually his life. Nor have they yet
acquired faith in banks. Few investments are available for them, and
for these reasons they bury their surplus money in the ground. One of
the strongest evidences of this practice is the continual disappearance
of Bulgarian coin from circulation. Nobody seems to know what becomes
of it. It cannot be shipped to foreign countries, because the balance
of trade is in favor of Bulgaria; and it is not used in the arts and
industries. Yet it disappears almost as fast as it is coined, and the
only explanation offered is the prosperity and the secretive habits of
the peasants.
An Englishman who traveled through the country and saw much of peasant
life says that when he asked a man one day why they hid their money in
the ground he answered with surprise:
“Where do the English peasants hide theirs?”
The peasants have the characteristics of the other oriental races, and,
in their eagerness to acquire wealth and anxiety to get the best of a
bargain, they are not surpassed by the Armenian, Arab, Turk, Greek,
or Jew. They are very sharp traders, economical and thrifty in their
habits, shrewd in negotiation, and never miss an opportunity to make
a penny. The impression there, as in other parts of Europe, is that
all Americans are rich and reckless with their money. The hotels, the
shopkeepers, hackmen, guides, curio-dealers and everyone else with
whom strangers come in contact has a special price for Americans, from
twenty to fifty per cent higher than is paid by other people. The
waiters and porters expect bigger fees, and the whole community, in
fact, considers an American traveler a pigeon to be plucked.
The peasants are industrious, ingenious and intelligent. Both men and
women are of fine physique, capable of great endurance, and very few of
them are idle or vicious. I noticed but three or four beggars during
my visit to Bulgaria, and every one was a cripple. The women do their
share of the work on the farms, and seem never to be idle a moment.
Holding the distaff in their hands, they spin as they walk along the
highway and as they sit behind piles of vegetables in the market
waiting for customers. They are so accustomed to it that the work is
done unconsciously. They also care for the flocks and herds. Most of
the shepherds you see from the highways or the railway trains are
children from eight years old and upward, who follow the cattle, sheep
and goats over the ranges. The large herds in the mountains far from
the towns are kept by men and well-grown boys, and often young women
are found among them, who sleep in the open air with sheepskins wrapped
around them during the entire winter season.
The hospitality of the peasants is always commented upon by travelers.
Whenever you enter a cottage you are cordially welcomed. The oriental
laws of hospitality prevail everywhere in Bulgaria and among all
classes. No stranger is ever turned from the door if he comes in peace,
and the poorest peasant will share his blanket and his bread without
the asking, and at the poorest cottage a glass of water or milk, or a
bunch of grapes is invariably offered the visitor. Nearly every peasant
has a farm of from five to fifteen acres. The cottages of the owners
are grouped together in a little village, and the cultivated lands, as
in France, usually lie at some distance. There are no fences, and to a
stranger the landmarks are obscure. Every family has at least one pair
of oxen and forty or fifty sheep, besides cattle, goats, pigs, geese
and chickens, all of which are allowed to graze upon the _mera_, or
common pasture, which belongs to the government, but has been held by
the community from time immemorial. A peasant of one community is not
allowed to use the pasture belonging to another unless he owns a hut
or garden spot there to give him a title, but there is no limit to the
extent of pasture. He may have only ten sheep or cows, or he may have a
thousand--they are all entitled to their share of the common range. If
a man wishes to sell his place his next-door neighbor has the option.
No stranger is permitted to acquire property that any member of the
community desires to purchase, and public opinion will regulate the
price.
Fruit is plentiful, and in the valleys there is a succession of
vineyards which produce an excellent wine. All ordinary vegetables
known to the temperate zone are cultivated, and tobacco and cotton
grow well. Although the soil has been producing for more than twenty
centuries, no fertilizers are used. The revenue from the manufacture
of attar of roses amounts to more than $1,000,000 annually. You can
buy it in little gilded glass flagons at shops where Turkish goods are
sold. The town of Shipka, where was fought the decisive battle of the
Russo-Turkish war on the 7th of July, 1877, is the center of the rose
gardens. Upon the battlefield are many memorials of that great struggle
in the form of monuments, crucifixes, pyramids of cannon balls, cannons
and crosses, scattered over a large area, erected by the survivors
of different regiments that were engaged in the battle, in memory of
their officers and comrades, and many of them mark the burial places
of officers and men who distinguished themselves in the fight. In the
center of the field is an imposing obelisk erected by Alexander II. of
Russia to commemorate the victory of General Gourko, who commanded his
troops. It bears an appropriate inscription upon the pedestal, and upon
the shaft is engraved a representation of the Russian coat of arms,
with crossed rifles and flags beneath it. Upon the top of the shaft is
a spear and a cross.
The climate and soil of that part of Bulgaria are unusually favorable
for rose culture, and for miles around the fields are full of the
most luxuriant roses, which are cultivated like the grapevines in the
valleys and on the mountain slopes farther west. The rose fields cover
altogether many thousand acres. The bushes are carefully pruned, so
that all the strength of the sap may go into the flowers, and from
the middle of June until the last of October women with bags hanging
over their shoulders go through them daily plucking the flowers that
have reached maturity. At night they take their harvests home, where
the petals are carefully removed, placed in kettles similar to an
ordinary still, and the oil extracted by steam. Thousands of tons of
rose leaves are thus gathered annually, and the oil produced is worth
at the distillery from $50 to $75 a pound. A single drop will perfume a
two-ounce bottle of alcohol. Much of the product is sent to Paris and
Vienna, the remainder to Constantinople.
Philippopolis, the second city in population and importance in
Bulgaria, is a famous old town, founded by Philip of Macedon about the
year 350 B.C., and its history has been both romantic and exciting.
It is picturesquely situated upon three hills of granite and has
several fine buildings and churches of every religious denomination.
The Alexander Gymnasium, for boys, established by the late prince,
is perhaps the most progressive educational institution in the whole
country and has exerted a wide influence. There is a government school
for the higher education of girls also, which has done much towards
the advancement of women. In the market place at Philippopolis you see
all sorts of costumes, for nearly every oriental race is represented
in the population. The Bulgarian is distinguished by the _kalpak_, a
headdress of lamb’s wool, and the Turk by his fez. The Turkish women
wrap their faces in muslin veils or shawls, but the Bulgarian women
follow the European custom and do not attempt to conceal their features.
According to the census of 1893, and there has been very little change
since, the population of Bulgaria is 3,310,713, and is composed of
2,505,326 Bulgarians, 569,728 Turks, 58,518 Greeks, 13,260 gypsies,
27,531 Spanish-speaking Jews, 16,298 Tartars and representatives of
nearly every other race on earth. The national faith is that of the
Orthodox Greek Church, although in 1870 the Patriarch of Constantinople
excommunicated the entire Bulgarian people in consequence of their
persistent demands for religious independence and autonomy. Since then
the church has been governed by a synod of twelve bishops, and is under
the care of the minister of education, the clergy being paid by the
government. In 1893 the members of the Orthodox Greek Church numbered
2,606,786, the Mohammedans 643,258, the Roman Catholics 22,617, and the
Protestants about 3,500.
Protestant missionaries from the United States have been at work in
Bulgaria ever since the establishment of an independent government,
the field being divided between the Methodists, who have the territory
north of the Balkan Mountains, and the American Board of Foreign
Missions, who are engaged in the southern part and in Eastern Rumelia.
The Bulgarians generally commend the missionaries and tell of the
great good that they have done. The newspapers speak well of them,
and the government officials have nothing but commendation for their
educational and charitable work, although their evangelical labors are
not encouraged. The government is willing that they should educate the
people, take care of them when they are sick, feed them when they are
hungry and clothe them when they are naked, but naturally does not
approve of the efforts to convert them from the Greek to the Protestant
faith. The Greek clergy are generally bitter and at times fanatical
in their opposition, except in the large cities, where there is a
cosmopolitan spirit. The Turks have very little to say in Bulgaria,
but treat Protestants much more amiably than they treat the Greeks,
and are particularly friendly with the missionaries. The American
colony very seldom has any difficulties with the Turks. The Russians,
whose influence in Bulgaria is greater than that of any other foreign
people, and who control the policy of the government, are even more
opposed to the evangelical work of the missionaries than the natives,
because of their connection with the Greek Church and their hereditary
disapproval of the education of the common people. Personally, however,
missionaries are often friendly with the Russian residents. That
depends, however, largely upon their individuality. Miss Stone, for
example, is a great favorite among them, as she is everywhere, and the
greatest degree of anxiety was shown by the Russian colony for her
rescue.
The Methodists in northern Bulgaria have eight houses of worship,
valued at $31,500. Most of them have parsonages attached. There are
eleven American and native missionaries, four hundred and thirty-four
communicants, forty-three probationers, thirteen schools and three
hundred and twenty-eight pupils.
The American Board of Foreign Missions has been at work in that
country since 1858, when the first mission station was established
at Adrianople. It has three stations in Bulgaria. At Philippopolis
there is a church of two hundred and fifty native members under the
care of Rev. George L. Marsh, a veteran who has just completed the
finest Protestant house of worship in the East, and dedicated it in
November, 1901. At Sofia there is a self-supporting church of three
hundred members under the care of Rev. Marko Popoff, and a large
school at Samakov, under the direction of Messrs. Haskell, Clark and
Baird. The work in Rumelia is under the direction of Rev. John Henry
House, who resides at Salonika, where there is a flourishing church.
There is another station at Monastir. Altogether the American Board
has nine missionaries in Bulgaria and East Rumelia, seven American
lady teachers, three established schools for the higher education
of both men and women, and one kindergarten. Its last reports show
fifteen organized churches with regular preaching, fifty places with
irregular preaching, twelve houses of worship, about fifteen hundred
communicants, and an annual average attendance in 1901 of nine hundred
and fifty-six at worship and eight hundred and forty-two at the
Sunday-school. There is a large church at Bansko, the place Miss Stone
started to visit on the morning of her capture, which has one hundred
and fifty members and a house of worship which cost $6,000.
American mission work in Bulgaria and Macedonia is divided into
three departments--publication, education and evangelical. There
is a Bulgarian publication society for both secular and religious
literature which maintains a printing office, a bookstore and a
well-patronized free public reading-room at Sofia. It has circulated
thousands of copies of the best American literature translated into the
Bulgarian language, and formerly published a weekly newspaper, which
has been revived in Philippopolis recently with a native Bulgarian
editor. The Bible was translated into Bulgarian in 1872 by the late
Dr. Riggs and Dr. Long, and thousands of copies are sold annually. The
Methodists are also circulating both religious and secular literature
with great energy, and find that it awakens an interest among the
natives to learn more, stimulates their ambition, broadens their
ideas, and encourages them to improve their own schools and extend
the facilities for the education of the coming generation. If the
missionaries in Bulgaria had done nothing else than create this public
sentiment their labors in Bulgaria would have been well repaid. They
have been the pioneers of a general-education system, in which the
government has recently shown a decided interest; they have inspired
a temperance movement, they have broken the bonds that restrained the
women of the country, and wherever their influence extends may be found
a radical change from the social, educational and moral conditions
which existed when independence was established twenty-four years ago.
The schools at Samakov for the education of teachers and preachers
have compelled the government to establish similar institutions to
satisfy the demands of the public; and a model kindergarten, maintained
by Miss Clark at Sofia, is being imitated under the direction of the
minister of education. Miss Clark is a great favorite in Sofia. She
is a daughter of Rev. Mr. Clark, one of the missionaries in charge
of the schools at Samakov, and she is assisted by two graduates of
those institutions. We visited her kindergarten one morning and found
twenty-eight black-eyed urchins engaged in making baskets and building
barns with blocks. They are the children of the best families in
Sofia--bankers, merchants, professional men and government officials,
who patronize the missionary kindergarten from self-interest and not
because they belong to the Protestant Church. The popularity and
success of Miss Clark’s kindergarten has been recognized throughout the
entire kingdom, and before long kindergarten work will be recognized as
a necessary part of the system of public education.
The Protestants in Bulgaria are trying to raise money to endow the
schools at Samakov and want help from America. They recognize that
the influence of those schools is wider and more permanent than that
of any other branch of work in which they are engaged, because the
chief object is to train teachers for the native schools. There is a
great demand for teachers, which, with the rapid development of the
educational system, far exceeds the supply, and the graduates of the
missionary schools at Samakov command the highest positions and do the
greatest amount of good. It is not necessary that they should profess
the Protestant faith. That is a matter of minor importance, and the
missionaries feel that if they can thoroughly educate the people their
object will be attained.
The government has recently passed a law providing for compulsory
education and requiring the attendance at school of all children
between the ages of eight and twelve years. The schools are free to
the peasants, but those who can afford to pay are taxed $4 a year
for the elementary branches and a corresponding amount for the
higher schools. Two-thirds of the cost of the free schools is paid
by the general government, the remainder by the municipalities and
village authorities. The appropriation in 1901 for education was about
$1,500,000, which supported 4,589 primary schools with 7,998 teachers
and 336,000 pupils, one hundred and seventy high schools with 1,477
teachers and 33,700 pupils, forty-five technical schools with 255
teachers and 4,640 pupils, and seventeen preparatory schools with 569
teachers and 13,892 pupils.
There is a university at Sofia with three faculties--law, medicine and
science--forty-two professors and lecturers and four hundred and nine
students. At present it is occupying a temporary building, but is doing
good work and promises increased influence.
It is gratifying to find in this far-off country ladies and gentlemen
who have been educated in the United States and are familiar with
American institutions. The most influential woman in Bulgaria is Mrs.
Ivan B. Kassuroff, who was a pupil of Miss Stone. She is notable for
having been the first Bulgarian woman to engage in active mercantile
business. She violated the customs and traditions of the country and
for a time created considerable stir, but Mme. Kassuroff’s character
and abilities have not only carried her through a trying ordeal,
but have gained for her the respect, confidence and admiration of
the entire population, and she now has many imitators. She opened
the field of business for women. Although the native citizens, with
their oriental conservatism, had a hereditary prejudice against women
engaging in business enterprises, they now lift their hats to Mme.
Kassuroff when they meet her in the street.
Mme. Kassuroff’s business career, however, was not entirely voluntary.
Her husband was proprietor of the principal bookstore in Sofia, and in
1874 died, leaving no one to carry on his profitable business. Rather
than make a sacrifice, his widow assumed the responsibility, has since
taken personal charge of it, has developed remarkable capacity, and,
as I have said, is honored and admired by all classes. She supplies
the government with books and stationery, and her shop is known as the
“Court Book Store.” It stands upon the opposite side of the public
square from the palace. She is a typical example of what an American
education and American ideas introduced by the missionaries can do for
a Bulgarian woman, and illustrates the advancement women have made in
the East under missionary influence.
Mrs. Popoff, wife of the pastor of the Protestant church in Sofia, is
also a graduate of the Painesville (Ohio) Seminary, and has done much
to bring American ideas into the family circles of Bulgaria and develop
the ambition and independence of Bulgarian women. Her husband, Rev.
Marko N. Popoff, is a graduate of Hamilton College, was prepared at
Fredonia, New York, and took a course in theology at Auburn Seminary.
Altogether he spent about eleven years in America, is a fine all-round
scholar, an orator of ability, and exercises a large and growing
influence. His church is always crowded and he is a popular lecturer.
Another American product is Stoyan Kristoff Vatralsky, a son of a
Bulgarian shepherd, who graduated at Harvard in 1894, was class poet,
and was engaged in literary work and on the lecture platform in the
United States until recently, preparing himself for educational and
literary work in his own country. Mr. Vatralsky is a graduate of the
missionary school at Samakov, where he was inspired with an ambition to
go to the United States and prepare himself for greater usefulness to
his fellow countrymen.
The supreme representative of Russia in Bulgaria to-day is Mr.
Bakhmeteff, a diplomatist of great talent, learning and long
experience, who disguises his cleverness under an air of cynical
indifference. He is well known in the United States, for he has spent
much time in Washington, his wife being a daughter of the late General
Edward F. Beale, who was General Grant’s roommate at West Point and his
most intimate friend for a lifetime. Mme. Bakhmeteff is as clever as
her husband, and although she naturally sympathizes with his efforts
to keep Bulgaria within the Russian “sphere of influence,” she is
thoroughly American in her habits and sympathies. To her benevolent
spirit is due the establishment of several much needed charities in
Bulgaria. She organized a free hospital and interested in her work
the Czarina, who at her own expense sent to Sofia a staff of nurses
from a Russian religious sisterhood. Mme. Bakhmeteff also introduced
the Red Cross Society into Bulgaria, has interested herself in the
improvements of the schools, and as the social leader of the capital
has made charitable work fashionable among the Bulgarian women. She has
also started a school for trained nurses, in which other ladies of high
position take an active interest.
While his wife is engaged in charitable work Mr. Bakhmeteff keeps
the government straight. The prime minister never does anything of
importance without consulting him, and his advice is equivalent to an
order from the Czar.
XI THE KIDNAPING OF MISS STONE
The capture and detention for five months and twenty days--from the
3d of September, 1901, to the 23d of February, 1902--of Miss Ellen M.
Stone, a representative of the American Board of Foreign Missions,
and her companion, Mrs. Katarina Stephanova Tsilka, wife of the Rev.
Gregory Tsilka, has excited much interest in Bulgarian affairs and the
cause of Macedonian liberty, but failed to provoke intervention on the
part of the United States or the European nations, as the conspirators
hoped it might do. That was undoubtedly their chief purpose, and it
was successful only so far as it attracted public attention to the
condition of anarchy that prevails in Rumelia and the dangers with
which missionaries and other foreigners are surrounded.
Miss Stone is well known in Sofia and throughout all the Balkan
Provinces. She has been engaged in missionary work in that region ever
since the independence of Bulgaria was established at the close of the
Russo-Turkish war. Her headquarters have been at Salonika, a Turkish
port on the Mediterranean, which was formerly known as Thessalonica.
St. Paul addressed his Epistle to the Thessalonians to its inhabitants,
and the city is otherwise identified with important events in the
history of Christianity. Rev. John H. House of Painesville, Ohio, whose
influence and usefulness extend beyond the borders of Bulgaria, where
he was a pioneer in missionary work, has charge of the headquarters at
Salonika, and Miss Stone has been associated with him for many years.
Her especial duties have been to supervise the educational work, and
it has been her habit to travel on horseback throughout the country,
opening schools, establishing native teachers and looking after
their work. In this way she has acquired a wide acquaintance and is
universally respected and beloved, not only by the Protestant converts,
but by all classes. In her own personal narrative she says:
“During the frequent missionary tours which I have made in Macedonia
during the last twenty years and more, I have often been conscious
of danger from the brigands who have long infested that country.
Thrice before my capture I had come into personal contact with them.
Once I spent the night in the common room of a khan or inn with a
brigand sleeping on the other side of the fire; once two horses were
stolen from the party with which I was traveling; and the third time
two bandits stopped us on the road, but hesitated as to what manner
of people we were, and so let us pass. On our journey in September,
however, we had no thought of fear. Only three weeks before, I had come
to Bansko by way of Strumitza and Djumia with two Bulgarian ladies,
teachers in our village schools, accompanied only by a muleteer and
a young native boy. We had ridden through a wild and rugged country,
spending four days on the road, sleeping one night in a native house,
and two in khans, all without molestation. I had, indeed, traversed the
road on which we were finally captured many times before, and, knowing
the people and their ways, I was conscious of all the safety of long
familiarity.”
Mr. Tsilka is an Albanian by birth, from the province adjoining
Macedonia on the west, was educated in the missionary schools at
Monastir and Samakov, and afterwards took a course in Union Theological
Seminary, New York City. He is pastor of a native church at Kortcha,
Albania, and for several years, with the assistance of his wife, has
conducted a school there. Mrs. Tsilka, a Bulgarian, and a native of
Bansko, was visiting her parents in that town for several weeks before
her capture. Like her husband, she is a graduate of the mission school
at Samakov, completed her education at Northfield, Massachusetts, and
afterwards graduated from the Presbyterian Training School for nurses
in New York City.
They had been attending a summer school for teachers at Bansko, and,
with several members of the class, started on horseback for their
respective homes on the 3d of September, 1901. Miss Stone’s journey
led her towards the railway which runs from Budapest to Salonika. Mr.
and Mrs. Tsilka and Mr. Dimitsoff, her father, were on their way to
Albania, and the rest of the party expected to leave them at various
stations on the road which crosses the Perion range of the Balkan
Mountains. Seven of the party were men, but only one of them was armed.
Upon a rough mountain trail between Bansko and Djumia, after three
hours’ journey, they sat down under the forest trees to eat their
luncheon and feed their animals, when they were captured by a band of
alleged brigands variously estimated from twelve to forty. Miss Stone
says:
“They were of various ages--some bearded, fierce of face and wild of
dress; some younger, but all athletic and heavily armed. Some wore
suits of brown homespun, some Turkish uniforms with red or white
fezzes, while others were in strange and nondescript attire. One had
his face so bound up in a red handkerchief as to be unrecognizable;
others with faces horribly blackened and disguised with what looked
like rags bobbing over their foreheads--the knotted corners of their
handkerchiefs, as we afterwards learned.
“Their rifles and accouterments seemed fresh and new, and they also
carried revolvers and daggers in their belts, with a plentiful and
evident supply of cartridges. They had undoubtedly intended to fill us
with terror at the sight of them--and truly horrible they looked.
“Mr. Tsilka had given his wife his watch and money; the latter she
secreted in her mouth, and tucked the watch under her belt, as she
supposed, but it slipped below and showed. One of the brigands called
her attention to it, sarcastically remarking that she had better put it
away more securely. He could not have alarmed her more; if the brigands
did not want our money and watches, what could be their purpose!”
The brigands seemed to be on friendly terms with George Toderoff, the
guide of Miss Stone’s party, who had been employed at Bansko, and
was afterwards arrested as an accomplice, but was released by the
Bulgarian government without trial or examination and against the
protest of the diplomatic agent of the United States. They showed no
disposition to rob or injure any member of the party, although they
promptly and in cold blood murdered an unarmed Turk who happened to
be passing along the trail, and who, they no doubt feared, might
communicate their movements to the authorities. As soon as a convenient
place was reached, the brigands instructed the party to go into camp,
and repeatedly assured them that they need fear no harm. No threats
of violence were made and no insults offered, as is customary when
Turks encounter Christians. No Christian woman can expect to escape
insult and seldom injury if she meets a Turkish soldier in Macedonia;
but Miss Stone, being an American of strong character and past middle
age, has usually been treated with respect. If her captors had been
Turks the proceedings would have been entirely different from what
actually occurred, and the three young women teachers, especially,
would have had an entirely different experience. This circumstance is
the strongest kind of evidence that their captors were Bulgarians. The
party went into camp, and during the evening the brigands disappeared,
taking with them Miss Stone and Mrs. Tsilka and two horses. If they
had been Turks their captives would have been stripped of everything
valuable and their animals would have been stolen, but not an article
was missing. The luggage was undisturbed and the brigands did not even
help themselves to the food supplies provided for the journey.
During the remainder of the fall and the succeeding winter, until
February 23, 1902, the captives were kept moving from place to place in
the mountains, suffering considerable privation and discomfort, but,
as both Miss Stone and Mrs. Tsilka testify, they were treated with
invariable respect and kindness, and were as well supplied with the
necessaries of life as was possible in that primitive country. They
seemed to appreciate the value of their captives and took a great deal
of care and trouble to protect them from exposure and injury, and in
November, when Mrs. Tsilka’s child was born, they brought an old woman
from some unknown quarter to assist as a nurse.
In the meantime there was great excitement in Sofia and other parts
of Bulgaria. In the United States public meetings were held in many
places and liberal contributions made towards a fund to ransom Miss
Stone and her companion, and the secretary of state ordered Mr. Charles
M. Dickinson, the American consul-general at Constantinople, to Sofia,
the capital of Bulgaria, with instructions to use his best efforts to
secure the release of the captives.
On the morning of September 4, after the disappearance of their captors
with Miss Stone and Mrs. Tsilka, that lady’s husband and father, with
the other men in the party, made a careful examination of the country
around them, but could find no trace of the women or the brigands
except their trail, which led over the mountains back towards Bulgaria.
The entire day was spent in the search. The husband and the father of
Mrs. Tsilka, almost overcome with grief and consternation, pursued
their fruitless search through the next night, and as there were no
further signs of the brigands decided to return to Bansko and give
an alarm. Messengers had already been sent there, and to notify the
missionary colony at Samakov, but, strange to say, the news of the
capture preceded them and was whispered about the streets by Cyril
Vaciloff and other Macedonian revolutionists, who appeared to know
all about it. They also predicted the amount of ransom that would be
demanded before anything had been heard from the brigands. The demand,
which was contained in a letter written by Miss Stone in the Bulgarian
language to the treasurer of the missionary board, was dictated by some
person of intelligence. The language and the forms of expression used
were very unlike her literary style. There was no doubt, however, of
the penmanship. That letter was thrown into the window of the house
of missionary Haskell at Samakov during the night, and his daughter
identified Vaciloff in the moonlight while trying to open the window.
A local newspaper friendly to the Macedonian cause published the
important part of the contents of the letter before they were made
known by the missionaries, including the amount of ransom demanded.
This and other circumstances make it very clear that Vaciloff intended
or expected to be the medium of negotiation for Miss Stone’s release,
and his failure was undoubtedly due to his arrest, which frightened him
and induced him to deny all knowledge of the affair. The missionaries
and the United States consul-general were not allowed to question him
or communicate with him while he was in jail. He was released by the
order of the authorities at Sofia upon the pretext that no evidence
had been offered against him, although no one had been invited to
present evidence. No attempt was made by anybody to secure evidence.
The missionaries and Consul-general Dickinson were not informed of
the decision to release him, and they did not know of his release
until they saw the announcement in the newspapers. The only inference
to be drawn from this unusual procedure was that the officials and
the managers of the Macedonian Revolutionary Committee realized the
complications that might ensue with the United States, the damage
their cause would suffer before the world and the odium they would be
compelled to endure if Vaciloff’s plans were carried out.
Cyril Vaciloff is a young adventurer, who had been acting as
president of the Macedonian Committee at Samakov, a small town near
the border, about fifty miles south of Sofia, in the foothills of
the Balkan Mountains. That is the missionaries’ headquarters, where
a large school for young men and women has been conducted ever
since Bulgarian independence. Its graduates may be found occupying
important positions in every part of the country, and the good it has
accomplished directly and indirectly is incalculable. Cyril Vaciloff
was educated at this school. His father was formerly a man of some
importance, but intemperance ruined him. His mother was a good woman
and was quite intimate with the missionary families up to her death.
Although she remained a member of the Greek Church, she frequently
attended Protestant worship and sent her children to the Protestant
school. Young Vaciloff was a bright scholar and a fluent speaker, with
considerable literary talent, but was always wild and restless, fond of
notoriety and unreliable in character. He never earned a dollar in his
life, but went into politics while a mere boy, and for several years
lived off the contributions for Macedonian freedom. He is a popular
café orator, writes pamphlets in support of the Macedonian cause, and
is an active, eloquent and effective agitator. In the spring of 1901,
after the reorganization of the Macedonian Committee, he called upon
Mr. Clark, superintendent of the mission at Samakov, and requested a
contribution for the Macedonian cause. Mr. Clark explained that while
his sympathies were with the Macedonians in their struggle for liberty,
it would be impolitic and unwise for foreigners, and especially for
missionaries, to subscribe to political funds. They were working in
Turkey, as well as in Bulgaria, and must keep on terms with the Sultan.
Vaciloff was not satisfied with this explanation, and shortly after
his visit Mr. Clark received a written warning that unless a prompt
contribution was made to the Macedonian cause the missionaries would
regret it. This threat was followed by an incendiary fire and the
destruction of the barn attached to the mission establishment. Mr.
Clark then received another letter from Vaciloff saying that the barn
caught fire from an electric spark, and that another would soon fall in
the same neighborhood unless $2,500 were immediately forthcoming. No
notice was taken of this threat except to solicit police protection,
and nothing happened.
During the summer of 1901 the missionaries frequently heard of threats
made by him and by others associated with the Macedonian cause, and
Vaciloff frequently remarked that the Protestants would soon be
compelled to pay a large sum into the treasury whether they wanted to
or not. He was the first to learn of the capture of Miss Stone; he was
the first to announce that $110,000 was the sum fixed for her ransom,
and as I have said, he was identified as the man who threw the letter
from Miss Stone into the window of Mr. Haskell’s residence.
It is believed that the actual leader of the bandits who captured
Miss Stone was Ivan Zandanski, formerly keeper of the Bulgaria
penitentiary, who resides at Dubnitza, a little town near the scene
of the incident. He is also active in connection with the Macedonian
movement, is associated with Vaciloff, and is a notorious desperado. He
is known to have followed Miss Stone during the summer on several of
her journeys, and usually appeared wherever she was. This was noticed
and commented upon, without suspicion at the time, but is remembered
as of significance since the outrage. Shortly before the kidnaping
Zandanski started ostensibly upon an expedition to visit and organize
the Bulgarian sympathizers on the Turkish side of the boundary in
the Balkan Mountains, and took with him twenty or more guns from the
arsenal of the Macedonian Committee at Samakov. He returned on the
11th of October, surrendered the guns to their proper custodian, and
reported that he had met with great success. It is current gossip among
the peasants in that part of the country that he was the leader of
the band, and he was actually identified by several of Miss Stone’s
companions. He was arrested and released for want of evidence, without
consulting the missionaries or the United States consul-general.
George Toderoff, the mule driver who was in charge of the animals
used by Miss Stone’s party, and acted as their guide, is believed to
be implicated. Upon his return from the mountains he told several
conflicting stories concerning the event, which caused his arrest,
but he also was released by order of the government at Sofia because
of supposed threats from Macedonian patriots. It is established by
abundant evidence that a number of members of the local Macedonian
organization around Samakov disappeared the last of August, shortly
before the capture, gradually returning to their homes during
September. They claimed to have been engaged, like Zandanski, in
organizing revolutionary bands in Macedonia, but the natives generally
believe that they were members of the party.
The presence of a military force which was sent to the neighborhood,
ostensibly to capture the brigands and rescue Miss Stone, also aided
to defeat that purpose, because it prevented people who might have
furnished valuable information from communicating with the missionaries
or lending them aid. Every man who showed signs of knowledge was
arrested, imprisoned for a few days, and then released without any
opportunity having been offered to the friends of Miss Stone to
communicate with him. These proceedings terrorized the neighborhood,
and balked every effort made by the missionaries. Another reason for
the delay to open communication was the refusal of the missionaries
to offer money as ransom or for information. The inhabitants of that
part of the country are very poor, they are naturally avaricious, and
some of them might have been persuaded by the judicious use of money
to defy the authorities and furnish information and assistance. The
missionaries, however, were exceedingly scrupulous in refusing to
appeal to mercenary motives. At the beginning they declared that no
ransom would be paid, and all offers to them and to Consul-general
Dickinson involving payments of money were promptly rejected. The
wisdom of this policy was seriously questioned by those who know the
Bulgarian character and the customs of the country, and it afterwards
proved to be a mistake and was abandoned. Natives and foreigners in the
neighboring country are in the habit of paying blackmail and ransom.
Custom has overcome their scruples on this point, and in several of the
Turkish provinces brigandage is regarded as a legitimate occupation.
It is, of course, impossible to say what might have happened if the
customs of the country had been followed at the start in this respect,
but the missionaries took the same high ground as the merchants of New
York in 1775, when they declared that they would pay “millions for
defense, but not one cent for tribute.”
There have been a large number of kidnaping cases in the Turkish
provinces during the last few years. People in this country have heard
very little about them because the means of communication are limited
and we seldom have newspaper letters or dispatches from that part of
the world. Miss Stone’s case was exceptional in this respect, because
of the missionary colonies that communicated with their friends at
home and the interest taken in the matter by the American public. The
following is a partial list of the persons kidnaped and the amount of
ransom paid for their release, since 1880. There have been other cases,
but I have not been able to obtain the facts:
1880, Colonel Singe, ransomed for $50,000.
1881, Henry Suter, ransomed for $60,000.
1884, Richard Dussi, $6,000 paid.
1885, Mrs. Giovenov, $35,000 demanded, $2,000 paid.
1885, Fritz Charmand, $8,000 demanded, $1,500 paid.
1887, R. C. H. Wilkins, $30,000 demanded, $8,000 paid.
1890, Gray Hill, $100,000 demanded, amount paid unknown.
1890, Mr. Landler, $15,000 paid.
1891, M. Rayneud, $5,000 paid.
1891, M. Michele, $2,000 paid.
1894, M. Provost, $3,000 paid.
1896, Captain Marriott, $15,000 demanded, $120 paid.
1896, M. Waligrski, $4,000 paid.
1896, Mme. Branzian, $50,000 demanded, $10,000 paid.
1898, James Whithall, $500 paid.
1899, M. Chevalier, $15,000 paid.
1900, Gerasim Kirias, $2,000 paid.
1901, M. Alphonse, $5,000 demanded, $1,000 paid.
1901, Miss Stone, $125,000 demanded, $65,000 paid.
The missionaries almost unanimously opposed the payment of ransom. They
abhor blackmail as a matter of principle, and argued that submission
in the Stone case would establish a precedent that would be disastrous
to the cause of missions not only in Turkey but in all semi-civilized
countries. They feared that it would result in a new industry; that
all the idle desperadoes would engage in the business of kidnaping
missionaries, and one good man went so far as to declare that “God
would prefer Miss Stone to perish of hunger in the mountains than
endanger the lives of his servants elsewhere.”
The latest foreigner kidnaped before Miss Stone was Gerasim Kirias,
an Albanian Protestant preacher, a naturalized subject of Great
Britain and agent for the British Bible Society. He was captured
under circumstances similar to those of Miss Stone and carried into
the mountains, where he was kept for three months, while negotiations
were conducted by the British consul-general. He was finally released
upon the payment of 500 Turkish pounds, which is equivalent to about
$2,000. The exposure and privation cost him his life. He became ill of
rheumatism while in the hands of the bandits and never recovered.
Mr. Landler, engineer-in-chief of the railroad which runs through
Bulgaria to Constantinople, was seized by brigands and carried into the
mountains several years ago. The Austrian government, backed by Italy
and Germany, attempted to force Prince Ferdinand of Bulgaria to secure
his release, but as with Miss Stone the government made no attempt to
capture the brigands or rescue the prisoner, although it was not shown
that the Macedonian Committee or any other political organization was
involved in the outrage. Austria finally paid $15,000 ransom, Mr.
Landler was released, and the Bulgarian government was compelled to
refund the money and pay a handsome indemnity. Other men of prominence
and wealth have been kidnaped and the government has refused to
intervene. I cannot ascertain that any brigand has been punished in
Bulgaria since the retirement of Stambouloff, late prime minister.
Mr. Dickinson, agent of the United States, assuming that the government
of Bulgaria was responsible for the safety of foreigners within its
jurisdiction, and for the good behavior of its subjects, undertook to
compel its authorities to compel the Macedonian Committee to compel
the Samakov local committee to compel the conspirators to call in the
brigands and release Miss Stone, but his efforts were useless because
the Macedonian Committee was determined to avoid the odium of the
kidnaping, and is much more powerful than the government. It was not
believed then, or now, by those who are well informed, that the present
managers of the Macedonian movement had any part in or knowledge of
the conspiracy, but there was abundant circumstantial evidence that
the plot was arranged and carried out by the former leaders, “the old
committee,” as it is called, of which a desperate adventurer named
Boris Sarafoff was the chairman and leader. Sarafoff was removed as
head of the central committee because he was indicted for murder and
gambled away the funds in the treasury. He was also engaged in several
blackmailing conspiracies which brought discredit upon the cause.
Nevertheless he is one of the most popular heroes in Bulgaria and has
more influence with the people than any official of the government or
any respectable member of the community.
Sarafoff was suspected of complicity with the conspiracy as soon as
Miss Stone’s abduction was reported. The British minister, acting in
behalf of the United States, because we have no official representative
at Sofia, notified the Bulgarian minister of foreign relations of his
suspicions that Sarafoff was implicated and demanded officially that
he either be arrested and locked up or placed under surveillance, so
that he could not leave the country until an investigation could be
made. The government did not touch him, and probably did not dare to do
so. Sarafoff left Sofia within a few days and went to Budapest. He was
afterwards reported to be in Paris. The police knew his whereabouts,
but were more afraid of him than he was of them.
Mr. Dickinson is a gentleman of ability and integrity, and has the
entire confidence of the American colony in Constantinople, but from
the beginning of the negotiations in behalf of Miss Stone he adopted a
policy which was calculated to prevent instead of secure her release.
He seems to have imagined that diplomacy could solve the problem,
and instead of dealing with the brigands he endeavored to compel the
Bulgarian government to interfere, when he should have known that it
was absolutely powerless to do so. After two months had passed, and
having fully demonstrated his inability to deal with the case, Mr.
Dickinson was recalled from Bulgaria and Mr. Leishman, the United
States minister at Constantinople, who had been on leave, was ordered
back to his post of duty. He arrived at Constantinople about the 1st of
January, and, after informing himself as to the situation, proceeded
to undertake Miss Stone’s release by the application of business
methods and common sense. He abandoned the diplomatic controversy,
and, recognizing that the officials of the Bulgarian government were
impotent, endeavored to open communication directly with the brigands.
He appointed a committee consisting of Mr. Gargiulo, chief dragoman and
interpreter of the United States legation at Constantinople; Rev. John
Henry House, D.D., formerly of Painesville, Ohio, and for twenty-five
years in charge of the mission work of the American Board in Macedonia,
with headquarters at Salonika; and W. W. Peet, treasurer of the Bible
Society and Missionary Board at Constantinople. These gentlemen managed
the business with great skill and tact.
Dr. Peet was the custodian of the fund contributed by citizens of the
United States for the ransom, and it amounted to $65,000. Rev. Dr.
House commands the confidence of the people of Macedonia to a degree
beyond that of any other American, and for that reason Mr. Leishman
selected him to negotiate with the brigands. Mr. Gargiulo is more
familiar with the methods and habits of the natives of Turkey than any
other man whose services could be obtained. He is also upon familiar
terms with the officials and knows how to deal with both classes.
Mr. Leishman invited these three gentlemen to take charge of the case,
and they went directly to the scene of Miss Stone’s capture.
On the 18th of January Dr. House succeeded in opening communication
with Miss Stone from a town called Razlog. She wrote that she was well
and kindly treated, and that the alarming reports about Mrs. Tsilka
and herself were unfounded. But the brigands would not release her
except upon the payment of $65,000, which they were aware had been
contributed for the ransom, and was in the hands of the missionaries at
Constantinople. They knew to a dollar the extent of the funds raised,
and would not listen to any proposition except the payment of the
full amount. They had been in constant communication with friends at
Sofia and elsewhere, who kept them advised of all the movements of our
government and of Mr. Dickinson, and were familiar with the newspaper
publications concerning the case in the United States. They declined to
surrender Miss Stone in advance of payment and insisted that the money
should be paid first.
Mr. Leishman investigated the precedents and found that this had always
been customary and that in every case on record the brigands had acted
honorably and carried out their part of the agreement. In the case
of Colonel Singe, an Englishman who was kidnaped some years ago, his
captors not only demanded $60,000 ransom money in advance, but required
that his wife and daughter should be delivered as hostages and detained
until they had been given twenty-four hours to escape. The money and
the women were delivered to a representative of the bandits at a place
agreed upon. The hostages remained in absolute seclusion until the
following day, when, at the hour appointed, they left the cabin in
which they had been placed and returned to their home. If they had
attempted to leave before or to communicate with anybody during that
time they undoubtedly would have been shot, but they submitted to the
exactions of the bandits, and on the following day Colonel Singe was
released.
Mme. Branzian, a French lady who was kidnaped in 1896, was released
under similar conditions. Her captors demanded £10,000 in advance
and three days’ time in which to escape with the money. If they were
molested in the meantime they gave notice that she would be killed. Ten
thousand dollars was paid as agreed and the conditions were complied
with, but at the end of the three days soldiers started in pursuit,
four of the brigands were captured and $8,000 of the money recovered.
In every other case that Mr. Leishman could hear of the conditions
were the same, and, upon the advice of Dr. House, he decided to accept
the terms and authorized the payment of the ransom. There was a little
difficulty at first as to the place and the manner in which the money
was to be delivered, but in this, as in every other particular, the
committee was compelled to submit to the demands of the brigands. The
result justified their confidence, and Miss Stone and her companion
were surrendered according to the stipulation. On October 25 Dr.
Haskell and Dr. Baird, of the Congregational mission at Samakov, had an
interview with one of the so-called brigands, and he knew everything
that Consul-general Dickinson had done up to that date, as well as
the exact amount of the ransom fund that had been contributed in the
United States. Rev. Dr. House met three of them by appointment January
22. Two days later Messrs. House, Peet and Gargiulo met several
others, discussed the matter of ransom as business men usually discuss
commercial transactions, and arranged for the payment of the money
on the following day, January 25. The brigands demanded payment in
gold coin, and swore the Americans to perpetual secrecy concerning
their individuality, the place where the ransom was paid and other
circumstances connected with the case. They insisted that the place of
payment should remain a secret for fear the people in the neighborhood
might be suspected of complicity and be punished by the Turks. The
unexpected appearance of a company of Turkish soldiers, who were always
on the alert to watch the movements of the rescue committee, prevented
the payment of the ransom until the 13th of February. Three men were
waiting around the place of rendezvous all this time for a chance to
receive the money safely; and, in order to throw the Turkish soldiers
off the scent, the missionaries removed the gold from the packages in
which it had been brought from Constantinople, filled the packages with
stones and sent them back under guard to the railway station.
This ruse proved successful. The Turkish officials and detectives
who were watching the missionaries supposed that they had failed to
connect with the brigands and had shipped the money to Constantinople.
Their vigilance was, therefore, relaxed, and on February 13 the rescue
committee paid over $65,000 in gold coin to four brigands, who insisted
upon counting it piece by piece, to be sure that they received the
full amount demanded. Twelve other brigands were in the immediate
neighborhood, within call and on guard, and several of them are known
to the missionaries.
Two days later, in a cabin in the mountains, Miss Stone received a
letter from Dr. House, brought in by the brigands, containing the
welcome news that the ransom had been paid, and was informed by her
captors that she would be released as soon as their safety would
permit. After several days of impatient waiting the bandits started
upon a journey with their captives. They traveled through the mountains
two nights and part of three days, and about dusk on the evening of
the third day, February 23, Miss Stone, Mrs. Tsilka and her baby were
left in the woods and were told that they were free to go their way,
and would find a village within five minutes’ walk. The women thanked
their captors for their kindness, expressed the natural degree of
relief at the end of their captivity and soon found themselves in the
village of Gradshortsky, where the natives received them hospitably and
notified the governor of the town of Stronmitza, only a few miles away.
On the following morning Miss Stone and Mrs. Tsilka were taken to
Stronmitza, where the governor received them with considerable ceremony
and notified the missionaries. Dr. House, Mr. Peet and Mr. Gargiulo,
who had been patiently waiting for this news, soon joined the ladies
and conducted them to Salonika, where Dr. House lives. From there,
after a few days of rest, they went to Constantinople.
There is a decided difference of opinion among the European colony and
the missionaries as to the moral effect of the transaction, but the
proceedings of the American minister and his committee are generally
approved. It is also the almost unanimous sentiment that the same
methods should have been adopted at once after Miss Stone’s capture. A
few members of the missionary colony still insist that it would have
been better to sacrifice Miss Stone’s life than to “compromise with
wrong,” as they term it. They predict that the lives and liberty of
American missionaries will be imperiled from this time on and that it
will be unsafe for any foreigner to travel without an armed escort.
The people of the United States, having shown their willingness to pay
a large sum of money to ransom one missionary, will be called upon
frequently hereafter to pay blackmail to protect others, and they argue
that the establishment of such a precedent is not only fatal as a
matter of policy but a shameful surrender of the dignity of a powerful
Christian nation.
No demand has been made upon Turkey for indemnity or other reparation
because it is clear that the crime was committed by Bulgarians, and not
by Turks, although upon Turkish soil, and in Turkish disguises; and it
is equally clear that the conspirators desired and intended to involve
Turkey in complications with the United States. No demand has been made
upon Bulgaria since the release of Miss Stone because she declines to
make a complaint or furnish any clues to the identity of her captors
or any evidence upon which a claim can be based. She intends to return
to her mission field in Macedonia and Bulgaria, and therefore does not
wish to impair her popularity or usefulness among the people of those
countries. She is intensely sympathetic with the Macedonian cause,
notwithstanding her sufferings at the hands of its advocates, and she
is evidently under pledges to her captors not to do or say anything
that might interfere with their peace of mind or pursuit of happiness,
for she has declined, or at least neglected, to furnish the department
of state any information concerning them. She is also so confident that
her deliverance is due to the intercession of Providence, in answer to
her prayers, that she has entirely overlooked all the human agencies
that were engaged in her behalf.
Mrs. Tsilka made a brief statement at the request of Mr. Leishman,
the United States minister at Constantinople, but it furnishes little
information, and it is of no value whatever for official purposes. The
United States government intended to make some sort of a demonstration
in order to assert its dignity and show its disapproval of the
liberties the brigands of Bulgaria have taken with American citizens,
but it cannot do very much unless the parties of the first part make
complaint or furnish some ground for action, which they both seem
disinclined to do.
To those who are familiar with the facts and the situation in
Macedonia, Miss Stone’s narrative in McClure’s Magazine is more
remarkable for what she omits than for what she tells. It is very clear
that she is determined to furnish no clew to her captors, for with
great care and skill she avoids giving any information that may reveal
their identity or disclose the places in which she and Mrs. Tsilka were
detained during their captivity.
Nevertheless, she makes one or two slips, evidently unconscious of
their significance. For example, she expresses her relief at finding
that her captors were not “black shirts” or regular brigands. She
says that their arms and equipments were all new; that they were in
communication with friends in Sofia and received regular and prompt
information from that city. She speaks well of them, appreciates their
kindness and courtesy, and in her letters to Dr. House and others
certifies that they are “entirely trustworthy.” Dr. House, Dr. Peet and
Mr. Gargiulo, who had several interviews with her captors, testify that
they were “neither shepherds nor husbandmen, but men of education and
some polish,” especially the chief, who knew some English.
Mr. Gargiulo calls attention to a singular circumstance. He says
that it is the custom for brigands to give their captives a liberal
contribution from the ransom paid for their release. He mentions that
when Colonel Singe, an Englishman, was ransomed in 1880, each brigand
in the band gave him a handful of gold, from £20 to £25 sterling,
before leaving him. In other cases of abduction by regular brigands
the same practice has been followed, but in Miss Stone’s case
her captors were not so generous. They gave her no money whatever,
which, Mr. Gargiulo argues, indicates that they are unfamiliar with
the etiquette of brigandage; that it was new business for them, and
therefore they are not regular brigands. This confirms the belief that
they are members of the Macedonian Committee.
[Illustration: A MACEDONIAN READY FOR REVOLUTION]
Assuming that the conspiracy to kidnap Miss Stone was hatched and
carried out by the Macedonian Committee, the motives are easily
understood:
(1) The Macedonian Committee, having an empty treasury, needed money
for arms and ammunition.
(2) They desired to terrify the American missionaries into coöperation
with them in their efforts to secure the emancipation of Macedonia from
Turkish rule. While the sympathies of the missionaries have always been
with the Macedonian patriots, they have carefully abstained from doing
anything to excite the criticism or provoke the hostility of the Turks.
(3) The Macedonian Committee desired to attract the attention of Europe
to the misgovernment of the Macedonian province by Turkish officials
and to the condition of anarchy that prevails there, hoping to secure
the intervention of the great Powers and compel the Sultan to carry
into effect the pledges he made to the international conference at
Berlin, when Macedonia was restored to his authority in 1878. The
members of the Macedonian Committee have proclaimed boldly, both before
Miss Stone’s abduction and since, that they will make it so unsafe for
foreigners in Macedonia that the Powers will be compelled to intervene
for the protection of their own subjects.
(4) The committee hoped to provoke war, or at least serious
complications, between Turkey and the United States by kidnaping
an American citizen while upon Turkish soil, and thus involve the
government of the United States in what is known as the Eastern
question. Hitherto we have always held aloof from that perplexing
problem.
There is strong ground for the belief that there was a quarrel between
the old and new Macedonian Committees, although the facts are not
known. Miss Stone was captured by the old committee, which, as I have
already said, was composed of desperate and disreputable adventurers.
The new committee is composed of respectable and honorable men, who
did not approve of the abduction and were very anxious lest it should
injure the cause of Macedonian freedom among the Christian people of
Europe. Miss Stone, in her narrative in McClure’s Magazine, tells of
a fight between her captors and another band of brigands who, she
thinks, were trying to recapture Mrs. Tsilka and herself for the sake
of securing the ransom. Private information from Sofia, which was not
credited at the time, referred to such an attempt upon the part of the
new committee, but it has never been made clear whether they intended
to release the prisoners, if captured, or whether they intended to
demand the ransom for themselves instead of allowing it to be collected
by the members of the old committee.
* * * * *
PART III Servia
* * * * *
PART III SERVIA
XII THE POLITICAL SITUATION IN SERVIA
To understand the situation in Servia it is necessary to know a little
of the history of that interesting country, which is always furnishing
a sensation for Europe, and the story of the feud between two peasant
families, which has been the cause of most of the trouble. At the
beginning of the last century Servia was a Turkish province and was
governed by a just and humane pasha named Hadji Mustapha. He was not
only popular, but was beloved by his Christian subjects, and the land
was peaceful and prosperous. The Janizaries, however, did not approve
of his liberal policy or his efforts to protect the inhabitants against
their extortions and cruelties, so they shut him up in the citadel
and put him to death. They explained to the Sultan that he had been
untrue to the Turks and was a friend of the Christians. The Janizaries
had their own way for four or five years, and, fearing an uprising of
the people, decided to murder every man who could possibly be looked
upon as a leader. Thousands were massacred; every town and village in
Servia flowed with blood. Among those who escaped to the mountains was
a swineherd named George Petrovitch (George, the son of Peter), better
known to history by his nickname, Kara (Black) George, because of his
dark complexion and raven hair. He is the greatest hero of Servian
history, and to him his country owes its independence from the Turks.
He was a very able man and generally respected, but was absolutely
illiterate, being unable to read or write, and could not even sign
his name. When he became king he used a peculiar cipher or rubric to
show his approval of state papers. But he had natural intelligence and
sagacity. His integrity was never questioned and his sense of justice
was Spartan. He allowed his own brother to suffer the death penalty as
an example to others for defying the authority of the government. While
King of Servia he wore the ordinary peasant’s garb, because he said it
was more appropriate to his ignorance and simple character than a crown
and robe of state, and he lived with the same frugality as when he was
tending his pigs in the mountains, often cooking his own meals in the
palace kitchen.
Karageorge drove out the Turks and organized a liberal monarchy in
Servia. Keenly appreciating his own deficiencies, the first thing he
did was to establish a free public school system in every province,
with a university at Belgrade. He introduced courts of justice, reduced
taxation, punished corruption, suppressed vice and organized the
different branches of the government with the skill of an experienced
statesman; but the people were not able to advance at his rapid
pace and he suffered the fate of many men who have been ahead of
their generation. His enemies encompassed him about, and his critics
interfered with his plans for the improvement of the country. In a fit
of anger and indignation because the public would not sustain his
reforms, he abdicated the crown after a reign of nine years. He was the
founder of the Karageorgovitch family, which is one of the parties to a
perpetual feud for the control of Servia.
His rival, the founder of the other faction, was also a peasant, the
son of a house-servant, a man who did menial work about the castle of
an aristocratic family named Obren. His father was called Tescho, but,
as is common among the Balkan peasants, he had no family name, and
when he became conspicuous enough to need one he adopted that of his
master, and the founder of the present reigning house of Servia became
known as Milos Obren. When Karageorge abdicated, Milos was the most
influential man left in the city of Belgrade, and the Turkish pasha who
invaded the country and captured the city appointed him governor of the
province. This honor excited his ambition and jealousy, and, fearing
a popular movement to recall Karageorge to the throne, he betrayed
him to the Turkish pasha, and, in obedience to the latter’s orders,
willingly hired a professional assassin named Vuica to murder his
unsuspecting rival while asleep in the shepherd’s hut he occupied in
the mountains. Thus began the feud between the descendants of the two
men, which continues to the present day, and the history of Servia is
little more than a recital of the rivalries between the Obrenovitch and
the Karageorgovitch families. Milos finally succeeded in reaching the
throne, and, being a man of very different disposition from Karageorge,
ruled as an autocrat until he was compelled to abdicate by an outraged
people, and was succeeded by his eldest son, Milan III., who died a
month later, when his brother Michael was seated.
Michael made a good king. He was liberal, just, progressive, and
introduced many modern improvements into Servia, besides carrying on
the reforms begun by Karageorge. He built a fine system of roads and
highways, erected several good public buildings, laid out parks, built
an opera-house and an art gallery, all of which were excellent things
in their way, but cost money. The peasants, who have always ruled
Servia, objected to what they called “German ideas” and drove Michael
from power, electing as king in his place Alexander Karageorgovitch,
a son of the national hero. The latter had held an humble position in
the Servian army, was modest, quiet and reserved. In an unostentatious
way he continued the policy of public improvements begun by Michael,
encouraging the arts and industries. During his reign Servia enjoyed
peace for several years and made rapid progress, but the dissatisfied
element soon began agitations again, and, encouraged by the partisans
of the Obrenovitch family, obtained control of the parliament, which
demanded Alexander’s abdication, and called back old Milos, who had
been in exile in Austria. He reigned for two years, until he died, and
it was good for the country that his life was not prolonged, for he
labored under the delusion that his recall was a vindication of his
previous autocratic policy, and his rule was worse than before.
Upon the death of Milos, Michael again came into power. During his
exile he had traveled much, had studied the art of government in
several of the European capitals, had learned foreign languages and
foreign affairs, and this education and observation, with his natural
abilities, made him a safe and prudent sovereign. He was altogether the
best ruler Servia has ever had; but there were continual conspiracies
against him by partisans of the Karageorge family, and, being unable
to control the parliament, they removed Michael by assassination.
He was murdered in the garden of his country palace. It was the
intention of the conspirators to proclaim Peter Karageorgovitch as king
simultaneously with the announcement of Michael’s death, but their
carriage broke down on their way back to Belgrade and the news of their
crime preceded them. The minister of war took prompt action, arrested
the assassins and locked them up in the dungeons of the citadel.
The plot proved to be widespread. Several members of the Karageorge
family were convicted of complicity and put to death, but there was no
direct evidence against Peter, who then, as now, was living quietly at
Lucerne, Switzerland, engaged in scientific pursuits. His late wife,
Zorka, was a daughter of the reigning Prince of Montenegro, and he
has two sons in the Russian army. He is now an old man, but, like Don
Carlos of Spain and the Duke of Orleans of France, is a recognized
“pretender,” and his name is always used by the “outs” as a shibboleth
when they are trying to raise a revolution.
The national assembly placed Milan IV. on the throne, and in 1869 he
was crowned. While getting his education in Paris he had acquired
habits of luxury, gambling and dissipation, which unfitted him for
the responsibility of ruling a primitive and a restless country like
Servia. His love of pleasure, his low tastes, reckless extravagance and
selfish disposition were his ruin. He squandered the nation’s money and
lost his private fortune at cards. His wife, Natalie Keskho, daughter
of a colonel in the Russian army, was compelled to leave him and was
finally granted a divorce. Their domestic troubles and the scandals of
the Servian court for a dozen years during the reign of Milan furnished
gossip for all Europe. Finally, enervated by dissipation and despised
by his subjects and all decent people, he abdicated in 1889 in favor of
his son Alexander, a lad of thirteen, who is now king of Servia.
This precocious youth, when not more than fifteen years old, fell under
the fascinations of Mme. Draga Maschin, who had been a lady-in-waiting
to his mother. She is an ambitious and brilliant woman, gifted with
considerable beauty, and the daughter of a cattle-dealer in Belgrade
named Lunjevitza. When only seventeen years of age she married Colonel
Maschin, an engineer in the Servian army, who obtained a divorce from
her because of her scandalous relations with the young king, which
began when he was a mere boy, and since that time she has resided
in the palace and has absolutely controlled him. The Dowager Queen
Natalie again and again attempted to bring the lad to his senses and
break off the relations, but Mme. Draga had more influence than the
mother, and actually compelled the latter to leave the palace and the
Kingdom of Servia. Natalie is now residing at Biarritz, very much
respected and beloved by many people, although she made herself very
unhappy and excited much hostility among the Servian politicians by her
sympathy with Russia, and her desire to bring Servia within the Russian
influence. Whatever may have been said of her political imprudence, her
character has never been questioned.
[Illustration: KING ALEXANDER OF SERVIA]
[Illustration: PRINCE FERDINAND OF BULGARIA]
Draga was ambitious to share the throne with her youthful lover,
although she was nearly twice his age, but her high aspirations
were stubbornly opposed by the ministers of state and the leading
politicians of Servia. After the abdication of his father, Prince
Alexander, during his minority, ruled the country through three
regents, all venerable and patriotic men, but it became necessary for
Draga to get rid of them for her own safety and the success of her
schemes. She found the young king a willing tool, and one night, when
he was only seventeen years old, he invited the regents to the palace,
and while they sat at dinner they were arrested upon a charge of
treason and thrown into prison, while he proclaimed himself king. This
_coup d’état_ was successful, for the army admired the audacity of the
youngster and sustained him. He has since married his mistress, and she
remains as influential as ever, the most interesting and conspicuous
figure in Servian politics.
King Alexander is a degenerate, and his brief career is disgusting. He
looks as if he had escaped from an asylum for the depraved, but is by
no means feeble of mind or body. On the contrary, he has a vigorous
constitution, and on two or three occasions has shown a nerve and power
of command which would do credit to a great general. Unfortunately he
has inherited some of the depravity of his father, the late King Milan,
who was probably the worst ruler Europe has seen for a generation, but
at the same time the son possesses a physical and moral courage that
Milan never displayed.
Draga Maschin, the daughter of the Servian cattle-dealer, reached the
throne by a series of sacrifices and intrigues more sensational than
have ever occurred outside of fictional literature; and yet she is not
happy, because for their sins both she and her youthful husband are
boycotted by all the courts of Europe. Queen Victoria was so disgusted
at the vulgar comedy enacted at Belgrade that she wanted to emphasize
her disapproval by withdrawing the British minister. There have been
a good many scandals in royal families, and some exist at the present
time, which would make an interesting chapter, but there has been
nothing for generations so nasty as that of Servia. As a consequence
the royal couple have not been recognized in any way by other royal
houses, much to the chagrin and disappointment of Queen Draga.
The latest political crisis in Servia was due to the lack of a baby.
The country was excited by intrigues attending the selection of an
heir to the throne. Our guide sagaciously observed that “some people
complain of having too many children, but this is the first time I ever
heard of national politics being disturbed by the lack of one.” Servia
is a little country, but is an important factor in European politics,
being one of the “buffer states” between Russia and the port on the
Mediterranean which the Czar covets. Austrian influence is stronger
than Russian, yet there is a Russian party which also represents the
interest of a family whose ancestors once occupied the throne, and are
all the time suspected of being engaged in a conspiracy to recover
power. These conspiracies have been more frequent than ever of late
years, and the field for intrigue is the more fertile because Queen
Draga has not furnished an heir to the crown, and the doctors say
that she is not likely to do so. It therefore becomes necessary to
select a successor to King Alexander in order to avoid revolution if
he should suddenly die or be driven from the palace. By selecting the
heir-apparent in advance, future conspiracies may be avoided; but
the political interests of a great part of the European continent are
directly involved in the selection, and the question is, Shall Russia
name the man?
Negotiations were conducted for several years between the Servian
minister of foreign affairs and Count Lamsdorff, the head of the
foreign office at St. Petersburg, for a visit to the Czar, which is
the height of the ambition of both King Alexander and his Queen, and
a matter of political importance for the Russians. This involved the
political control of Servia, and the nomination of an heir to the
Servian throne. Although Queen Draga had other plans, and desired her
brother, a young lieutenant in the Servian army, to be proclaimed
heir-apparent, she was willing to sacrifice him and all the rest of her
relations if the Empress Alix would receive her. But the latter, who is
a good woman, absolutely refused to do so, and even declined to answer
a letter which Queen Draga wrote, imploring her kindly consideration.
It is said that she threw the letter indignantly into the fire before
reading it, as soon as she discovered whom it was from.
It is one of the open secrets of the Servian court that Queen Draga
proposed that if the Emperor and Empress of Russia would receive her
husband and herself at their country palace near Odessa, King Alexander
would nominate, as his successor on the Servian throne, Prince Mirko,
son of Prince Nicholas of Montenegro, and brother of Helena, Queen of
Italy. The royal family of Montenegro have very close relations with
the Russians, and are always educated at St. Petersburg. Prince Mirko
is a great favorite with the widow dowager Czarina, and spent several
years of his childhood in her family, developing a remarkable taste
for music. He is such a clever composer that his music is played by all
the Russian military bands, and is equally popular in Italy. He is a
good-looking lad of twenty-one, of stalwart figure and athletic habits.
His life has been very different from that of the depraved young King
of Servia; in fact, all the members of the family of Montenegrins have
been admirably brought up and are persons of cultivation and refinement.
Two of his sisters, who were also educated under the direction of the
dowager Czarina, have married members of the Russian imperial family,
and their dowry was provided by the late Czar. Danilo, crown prince of
Montenegro, married a daughter of the Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin,
and is, therefore, a brother-in-law of the Grand Duke Vladimir, who
gave him a million rubles to start housekeeping. Thus the interest of
the Russian imperial family, as well as the ministers of state, was
excited by the prospect of securing a throne for young Mirko, and the
Servians realized that such an inducement would have great weight with
the Czarina Alix and might possibly persuade her to consent to receive
a woman with even so bad a record as Queen Draga.
The Italian interest in the appointment of Mirko was equally great.
Queen Helena was an active participant in the negotiations with Servia
for Mirko’s nomination. The Servians do not care so much for Italy
as for Russia. Queen Draga did not care whether the Queen of Italy
received her or not, but of course appreciated that Queen Helena might
exert some influence upon the Czarina.
There was still another and very important political phase to the
negotiations. Peter Karageorgovitch, the “pretender” to the Servian
throne, married a sister of Mirko, the eldest daughter of Prince
Nicholas, and, although she died in 1887, he is still considered a
member of the Montenegrin family, and the relations between his sons
and their uncles and aunts in Montenegro are very cordial. Two of these
sons are now at a military school at St. Petersburg, and a third is
in the Russian army. It might be that Peter would renounce formally
all pretensions on the part of himself and the Karageorgovitch family
to the throne of Servia if his brother-in-law, Mirko, were proclaimed
heir-apparent. This would be a great advantage to Servia, and would do
more than any other one thing to put an end to the conspiracies and
political agitations which have distracted this country.
King Alexander, as well as Queen Draga, will have to swallow a good
deal of chagrin if Mirko is selected, for that depraved sovereign
received a most humiliating snub from the lovely Princess Xenia, the
fourth daughter of Prince Nicholas, which he cannot have forgotten.
Before his marriage with Draga Maschin, the boy king agreed to yield to
the importunities of his ministers and seek a wife elsewhere, and there
was some correspondence concerning an alliance with the royal family
of Montenegro. King Alexander made a visit to Cetinje, the Montenegrin
capital, to become acquainted with the young lady who was recommended
as a suitable bride, but when the Princess Xenia saw him she was so
disgusted with his appearance and manners that she refused to sit at
the same dinner-table or receive any attention whatever from him, and
Alexander had to be told that his suit would not be successful. He left
Cetinje in a state of furious indignation, and when he returned to his
capital he dismissed from office and banished from the country all the
members of his cabinet who had advised him to go there, and married
Draga Maschin forthwith.
There was a sensational scene at the palace when Queen Draga’s plan
to proclaim her brother as heir-apparent was disclosed. He is said
to be a reputable young fellow and a good soldier, about twenty-four
years of age, but he has no claims upon the throne, and nobody
wanted him except his sister, who, the people think, has already
received more consideration than she is entitled to. His name is
Nikodem Lunjevitza. At first nobody believed the story that floated
out of some mysterious quarter, that Alexander intended to adopt his
brother-in-law as a son and name him as the future king of Servia,
because it was so audacious as to be incredible, but within a few days
the confirmation was abundant. The king expressed his intention to
three or four different persons. Then the ministry took up the matter
and decided, after long and serious consultation, that it would be an
act of duty and patriotism to immediately check the ambition of their
queen. Therefore, the entire cabinet, with Mr. Vuitsch, the prime
minister, at their head, called at the palace at an unusual hour and
asked for an audience. Alexander must have suspected the purpose of
their visit, for, after keeping them waiting for fifteen or twenty
minutes, he appeared in the full uniform of the commander-in-chief of
the Servian army, with his wife upon his arm. Advancing a few steps
from the entrance, the royal couple stood arm-in-arm, with a defiant
air, while the eight ministers arose and saluted them. Mr. Vuitsch,
in a conciliatory way, suggested that as they desired to consult the
king upon a matter of importance to the state, the presence of Her
Majesty was not necessary. But Alexander had evidently been through a
rehearsal, for he replied firmly and without hesitation:
“The Queen of Servia is interested as much as myself in all affairs of
state.”
The prime minister bowed in acquiescence and proceeded to say that
disquieting rumors concerning the selection of an heir to the throne
had been in circulation for several days, and had reached the ears of
the cabinet from unofficial sources. No notice had been taken of them
until they had been confirmed by persons who were in the confidence of
His Majesty more than his own cabinet and lawful advisers. Therefore
they deemed it their duty to enter a remonstrance and to remind
him that the _Skupshtina_, which was about to assemble, under the
constitution must be consulted, and their approval obtained before
the proclamation of an heir-apparent could be formally made. He was
confident, the premier said, that a majority of that body, which was
Radical in sentiment, would never agree to the choice His Majesty
had made, and, with the history of Servia so familiar in his mind,
His Majesty must recognize the danger to himself and to the country
of a difference with his parliament upon so important a subject as
the selection of his successor. He, therefore, begged that, before
any formal steps were taken, the leaders of the parliament should be
consulted.
Alexander here interrupted, and shouted in an excited manner: “I shall
carry out my will.”
“The will of the people must also be considered,” answered the prime
minister firmly.
Queen Draga, who seemed perfectly cool in contrast to the agitation of
her husband, motioned to the latter to be silent, and said, “The will
of the monarch is the more important,” then, whirling the king around,
she almost dragged him to the door, and the royal couple left the
audience-chamber without the usual formalities. The cabinet exchanged
glances and retired. Within a few days they took occasion to have the
leader of the Radical majority in the parliament send a message to the
queen by a person who would be sure to deliver it correctly, that her
plan to name her brother as heir to the throne would never be agreed
to, and admonished her that her own safety required her to relinquish
it.
There have been frequent attempts to assassinate the queen, and at
one time a story was circulated that she had committed suicide. It
is believed to have originated with her enemies to cover a failure
at assassination. She is extremely unpopular, and her vindictiveness
has incited a personal hostility and provoked attempts upon her life.
Alexander is a mere puppet in her hands. He does nothing without her
approval. She is actually the head of the Servian government.
XIII THE CAPITAL OF SERVIA
The train rolled into a fine large station at ten o’clock on a
beautiful night in October, 1901, when we had an opportunity to observe
how things are managed in a hotbed of revolutions, for in Servia there
is more politics than in Kansas or Nebraska, and the “ins” are always
afraid the “outs” are going to raise a rumpus. As a consequence, the
country is often compared to a volcano, and the government officials
are very cautious about admitting strangers and political exiles into
the capital.
An hour or so before we entered the Servian boundaries from Budapest,
an officer in a dizzy uniform of scarlet and gold braid collected our
passports, and asked a series of questions concerning our residences,
birthplaces, religion, professions and “stations in life,” which we
answered with accuracy and patience. Then, shortly before we arrived at
Belgrade, he returned the documents with the most polite compliments.
Alighting from the car, we followed the crowd into a sort of chute upon
the station platform, like those used for cattle in stock-yards, at the
end of which two more officers stood, and again demanded our passports
and railway tickets. Having complied, we passed on into a big room with
benches running up and down the center, where our luggage, with that of
other arrivals, was arranged.
The customs office did not show us much attention; their inspection
of our luggage was over in a minute; but they overhauled that of the
native passengers as if they meant to find something. I suppose they
were looking for arms, ammunition, incriminating documents or something
of that sort, or perhaps only for liquors and tobacco, which are
government monopolies; but the examinations were very thorough, and
both men and women had to tumble the contents of their bags and boxes
out upon the bench in a most exasperating manner. One man, who had
ridden with us all the way from Budapest, evidently had been indulging
in a little extravagance, and had half a dozen new collars and cuffs.
These attracted the attention of the inspector, who counted them three
or four times, and then took them into an inner room, where he weighed
them, and collected a few coppers in duty. Hot with indignation the
owner searched his pockets, slammed the duty down upon the bench and
hurled about a bushel of Servian oaths at the inspector, who took it as
coolly as possible and went on examining the luggage of other people.
The indignant man then began to collect his scattered effects; but
between every three or four handfuls he would explode again. I do not
know who he was, but if he ever catches that customs inspector in a
dark alley there will be a homicide reported in the Servian newspapers.
Our trunks were loaded upon the box of an ancient cab drawn by a pair
of diminutive animals, which had more spirit than flesh, and whirled
around the corner of the station to a brilliantly lighted office, which
the driver told us was the police headquarters, where our passports
could be recovered. The officers were very polite, but they wanted to
know my profession. There are often reasons why one does not care to
advertise himself as a newspaper reporter. It sometimes interferes
with the success of a mission. I told them I was a traveler, but they
desired something a little more definite. So, for the time being, I
concluded to be a gentleman of leisure, and was visiting Servia in
pursuit of the picturesque. The chief was extremely deferential and
hoped he had not put me to any inconvenience. He insisted upon shaking
hands, and bowed us to the door with the grace of a dancing-master.
[Illustration: A GLIMPSE OF MODERN BELGRADE]
The big café of the hotel to which we were driven was filled with blue
smoke. Underneath the cloud we could discern a crowd of men earnestly
engaged in a discussion which they kept up until an early hour in the
morning, and we learned that the chief occupation of a large portion
of the inhabitants was drinking beer, talking politics and smoking
cigarettes. The next morning was Sunday, and the café was again filled
at an early hour, with women as well as men, and every table was
occupied all day long, while the cigarette smoke hung over their heads
like a blue mist and concealed the ceiling. It was always so as long as
we remained in Belgrade. The café was crowded when we came downstairs
in the morning and when we went to bed at night, and the consumption of
beer, wine, coffee and cigarettes must be very large.
Sunday morning the king gave an audience to the _Skupshtina_, as
parliament is called, and it was, therefore, one of the great days of
the year. The bishops and the clergy, in their magnificent, embroidered
vestments, were even more imposing than the generals in uniforms of
blue, scarlet and green, with gold braid. The members of the diplomatic
corps in court dress were led by the Turkish minister and his suite.
The Austrian and Russian representatives were handsomely decorated
and made a fine appearance. They were watched with interest because it
is supposed that both are intriguing for the control of the country.
The members of the _Skupshtina_ were clad in black evening dress, with
embroidered shirt-fronts, white ties and white gloves. A band of music
stood in the area beside the palace and played lively airs while the
ceremonies were going on, and a battalion of the king’s bodyguard, in
brilliant uniforms like those of the Austrian Hussars, was drawn up
in two lines, between which everybody had to pass. I looked at those
troops with peculiar interest, because upon their loyalty the life of
the king depends. Most of them are young men, some mere boys, but they
all had intelligent faces and seemed conscious of their responsibility.
The royal palace, which is in the center of the city of Belgrade, is in
two parts and disconnected. One resembles a French chateau and looks
like a comfortable home, being pleasantly and tastefully fitted up. It
is only two stories in height, the lower floor containing the drawing,
dining and reception rooms and the upper floor the living apartments.
It is large enough for an ordinary family, and would make an acceptable
abode for a gentleman of wealth and culture. The other part, which
is across an area forty or fifty feet wide, is a more pretentious
structure, which rises next to the street, without grounds, and looks
like a public building. It is known as the New Konak, and was built by
Milan, the gambler king, for entertaining purposes. The exterior as
well as the interior is very pretentious, being of stuccoed brick, with
elaborate moldings, four stories high and painted yellow, like nearly
all the government buildings and business blocks. Within is a series
of magnificent apartments, equal to those in the palaces at Berlin and
Vienna, designed by a French architect and finished with tapestries
and gilding at a cost that was enormous for the size and wealth of the
country. The guards are thick around the palace, which indicates either
lack of confidence or a cowardly king. But the precaution is well taken.
[Illustration: ROYAL PALACE AT BELGRADE]
Sunday morning everybody goes to market, and the display of fish, meats
and vegetables is large and interesting. On one side of the principal
square were butchers, hucksters, and dealers in knickknacks from
Servia, while everything on the other came from Hungary, across the
River Save, and paid duty. The latter and their wares were much better
looking, and the venders wore better garments than the Servians, many
of them appearing in the Hungarian national costume. Their butter and
cheese were more appetizing and were displayed in a neater manner;
their vegetables were superior to those of Servian growth, the meat was
of a better quality, and it was, therefore, not surprising when we were
told that the wealthy class of the population patronized the Hungarians
and paid a little more for their supplies. The common people buy food
at the Servian end of the market. The fruits were beautiful, especially
the grapes and plums. From those plums are made the prunes of commerce,
and a large part of our supply comes from Servia. Plums are the largest
and most valuable crop of the country. The exports of dried prunes
were more than forty thousand tons in 1901, and from thirty to forty
thousand tons were used in the distillation of plum brandy.
Servia is an agricultural country, and out of a population of
2,312,000, eighty-seven per cent are engaged in farming, the number of
individual farms being 293,421, generally comprising from twenty to
thirty acres each. Over 300,000 acres are devoted to plum trees. The
next best crops are wheat, grass and corn. Pigs are one of the staple
products. After the war with Bulgaria a few years ago, in which Servia
was defeated, it was proposed to pay an indemnity of a million and a
half of swine instead of cash. There are large flocks of sheep and a
good deal of wool is handled, and the ranges are well stocked with
cattle.
Whenever Servia has a period of peace the flocks and herds increase
with great rapidity, and the wealth of the country grows like compound
interest. Servia has been extensively advertised as “a poor man’s
paradise,” as the soil, climate and other conditions are favorable for
people of small means. Farms can be bought for small sums of money,
and the ranges for cattle and sheep are usually public lands, which
cost nothing except a small tax which is paid into the treasury of
the township or commune. Recently several new industries have been
established. A German company has built a large beet-sugar factory
within sight of Belgrade, and a linen manufactory has been erected
by Belgian capital. There are several match factories, flour-mills,
tanneries and breweries, and the government is proposing to pay
subsidies to encourage the introduction of woolen mills and other
mechanical industries in different parts of the country. Servia is
prospering. There is plenty of work at good wages, but at the same time
considerable emigration to the United States and to the neighboring
countries, because of a disinclination among the young men to spend
five years of their lives in the military service.
[Illustration: A GLIMPSE OF OLD BELGRADE]
At market we saw a bride in the native dress, who had just come from
the church where the marriage ceremony had been performed, and was
receiving the congratulations of her friends and neighbors, while her
proud husband stood at her side and was envied. She was a buxom damsel
of the Swedish type, with blond hair and a clear blue eye. Her head
was covered with a peculiar turban, from which hung clusters of silver
coins. Long strings of coins were suspended from a necklace and a
girdle, and hung over her shoulders and hips, and must have been very
heavy. These were her dowry. She had begun to save them during her
childhood, and instead of putting them in a savings-bank had strung
them together for ornaments and had worn some or all of them on festive
occasions to attract the attention of the eligible young men of the
neighborhood. They were of different denominations, large and small,
and were arranged with a good deal of taste. The custom of the country
permits a bride to control her dowry after marriage, and many women
are able to preserve their wedding coins and transmit them to their
children. Sometimes they are exchanged for a piece of land, a cottage,
or cattle, and sometimes the coins are taken, one by one, from the
string, to meet emergencies in domestic economy. As a rule, however,
the peasants of Servia are well-to-do, and as long as peace can be
preserved they are able to live comfortably and save money.
The city of Belgrade lies upon a narrow, elevated peninsula between
the River Save and the Danube. It has improved considerably during the
last quarter of a century. The streets are wide and lined with fine
buildings after the Austrian style of architecture, with frequent open
squares which the public uses for market-places. The older part of
the city, nearest to the banks of the rivers, which was built during
Turkish domination, is composed of low buildings of adobe, with roofs
of red tile, fronting upon narrow and crooked streets and abounding in
filth and bad smells. One part is given up to the Jewish population,
who are huddled together in narrow quarters called the Ghetto, although
many are supposed to be rich and to own large areas of valuable real
estate in other sections of the city. There is no persecution of the
Jews in Servia. Freedom of worship is granted by the constitution,
although the state religion is the Greek orthodox. Out of a total
population of 2,312,484 souls 2,281,018 are communicants of that
church. The Roman Catholics number 10,411; the Mohammedan gypsies,
11,586; Turks, 2,489; Jews, 5,102; Protestants, 1,002.
The prevailing prejudice against the Jews is due to their success in
business rather than to religious scruples. They are not allowed to
hold office, although there is no legal prohibition, and are often
hooted at in the streets. In ordinary business transactions the keen
rivalry of the Jews is exasperating to their Christian competitors,
and their commercial enterprise in all directions has interfered
considerably with the prosperity of the natives. In the mercantile
trade they have the best shops and undersell the Christians; in
brokerage and the commission business they show a shrewdness and
prudence which enable them to make money while others lose, and they
have thus acquired wealth and commercial influence which make them
objects of envy. I did not hear any Christian say a good word of a Jew
in Servia, but at the same time I was not able to discover an instance
in which a member of that race has failed to fulfill his contracts
or has asked more than his due. The persecution of the Jews in the
neighboring Kingdom of Roumania, where they form a large portion of the
population, is becoming desperate. There the restrictions of the Middle
Ages are still in force. Jewish children are not allowed to attend
the public schools; Jewish students are not admitted to the technical
schools or the university; Jewish operatives cannot be employed in
manufacturing establishments; the Jews are prohibited from practicing
professions and engaging in certain kinds of commercial business, the
object being to drive them out of the country. All this is in violation
of the provisions of the Treaty of Berlin, under which the Kingdom of
Roumania received the protection of the great Powers, but it is useless
for the Jews to appeal because they cannot get a hearing. There is no
such trouble in Servia or Bulgaria, and for that reason a considerable
emigration from Roumania is moving that way.
Since the time of King Michael, Servia has had an excellent school
system and a law making education compulsory. All children between
the ages of seven and fourteen must attend school, and since 1865,
when only four per cent of the population could read and write, there
has been remarkable advancement. There are a number of academies, a
school of commerce, an agricultural college, a school of wine-culture
and a university with four hundred and thirty-six students, of
whom twenty-eight are women. In addition to these there are also
twenty-seven _hospitens_, or guests--students who are too poor to pay
the matriculation fees, but are allowed to attend the lectures and
enjoy the full benefit of the university training without receiving
degrees. The university occupies a fine building opposite the principal
square, and has a well-selected library of forty thousand volumes. The
entire expense of the university is paid by the national treasury,
and during the year 1900 was $109,000. There are four faculties--law,
medicine, science and philosophy.
Some of the school buildings are excellent examples of modern
construction and convenience, and they show an educational enterprise
that is creditable to the country. The government supports a museum
of natural history, a theater for the encouragement of opera and the
drama in the native tongue, and a small picture-gallery, which contains
an interesting collection of portraits of national characters and
several examples of old masters which have been presented from time
to time. There are also a number of paintings by native artists. One
of them, representing the coronation of an early king of Servia, was
awarded a gold medal at the Paris Salon in 1900, and was purchased
by the government as an encouragement to other artists. Nearly all
the pictures by native artists relate to historical events--warfare,
massacres and assassinations, dying women and headless men, for the
history of Servia has been a chronicle of horrors.
There are a public park and children’s playground, with swings,
merry-go-rounds, toboggan slides and other amusements; a musical
garden, where a military band plays two or three times a week; and a
botanical collection that promises well. In the parks and public square
are a number of statues and monuments to Servian military heroes, poets
and literary men.
The Servian language is a mixture of the Russian and Greek and is
similar to that of Bulgaria.
The cathedral is a commonplace building with a fantastic tower of
Byzantine style. It is interesting only because it contains the tombs
of Kings Milos and Michael. The epitaph of the latter reads: “Thy
memory shall not perish.” Karageorge is buried in the woods in the
mountains where he was assassinated. King Milan was buried in Vienna,
where he died in 1899.
At the extreme point of the peninsula, at the junction of the Save and
the Danube, is a promontory rising between three and four hundred feet,
with sheer cliffs at the point and on both sides. Here a fortress was
erected by the Romans before the time of Christ. Much of the original
wall still remains and the inclosure has been used continuously for
military purposes for at least two thousand years. There are two series
of fortifications, both protected by moats and double walls, and the
citadel must have been impregnable before the invention of heavy
artillery. It commands a wide valley, and the view from the point is
one of the most attractive in Europe.
The castle is in an excellent state of preservation and the outer walls
are used as a prison for all kinds of offenders. The prison is well
kept, the inmates are humanely treated and every Sunday morning are
allowed to send to the public market articles of their handiwork to be
sold for their own benefit. Every prisoner is allowed to prosecute his
trade if he has one and enjoy the proceeds of the sale of everything
he makes. If he is a shoemaker or a tailor he can continue to work
for his customers, and one day of the week he is allowed to receive
visitors, who bring him orders and take away goods that are finished.
Women prisoners do sewing and embroidery. At the market on Sunday the
stand for the sale of prison-made goods is attended by officers of the
police, who take the names of purchasers and the prices of the articles
purchased. During the last few years the administration of justice has
been much improved and the courts are said to be well managed.
Within the walls of the citadel are barracks for a regiment of
artillery, residences for the commander of the army and his staff, a
school for the education of non-commissioned officers, a church which
the soldiers are required to attend, and the headquarters of the
military administration. There is also a memorial mosque, which was
erected in honor of Hadji Mustapha who governed Servia early in the
last century, and, strange to say, was beloved by the people. He was
murdered by the Janizaries because he was too just and liberal.
The remains of Roman times are interesting and among the best preserved
in Europe. In the center of the citadel is a well containing fifty-five
feet of water, on a level with the Danube River, which is reached by
descending four hundred and thirty-two steps. The well is surrounded
by a brick wall three feet thick. The steps wind around it, and you go
down, down, down into the darkness of the bowels of the earth, until
the water-level is reached, where there is a chamber of considerable
size, evidently intended for storage of ammunition. This well is said
to be nearly two thousand years old, yet the brick-work is almost
perfect. It was built by the Romans to furnish water for the garrison
in case of a siege.
Below the walls of the citadel, upon the banks of the Danube, are two
large barracks capable of accommodating twenty-five hundred men, with
magazines for the storage of powder, and an old tower called the
Nebojsche, or torture-tower, which is supposed to have formerly had an
underground connection with the citadel, but it has been filled up and
forgotten for centuries. Here prisoners were taken to be tortured and
executed, and their bodies were thrown into the Danube.
Military service is compulsory. Every young man of sound body, when
he becomes of age, must serve two years in the army, eight years in
the reserve, and ten years in the national militia, or second reserve.
The active strength of the army in time of peace is 35,640 men, the
first reserve 160,751, and the second reserve 126,110, making a total
of 322,501 men capable of military service in time of war. The army is
organized and uniformed on the Russian plan, and has been trained by
Russian officers.
Every man who has performed military service is entitled to the right
of suffrage, and all others who pay taxes to the extent of fifteen
francs a year.
There are no paupers in Servia, and therefore no need of almshouses.
There is a free hospital for both military and civilian patients, which
is well kept.
Three miles from town, a park called Topschider, reached by a line of
electric cars, surrounds a country palace in which King Michael lived
much of his time. There is a farm where he conducted experiments in
agriculture and horticulture. In the upper rooms of the palace are
cases containing his library of agricultural works, many of which are
in English; glass jars filled with seeds which he imported from foreign
countries for experimental purposes, and glass cases containing wax
casts of apples, pears, peaches, grapes and other fruits which he
raised. Here he lived the life of a farmer and devoted his time to
studying the interests of his people; and here he was assassinated by
conspirators who were not allowed to have the share they wanted in the
control of the government.
The park is very pretty, and in front of the palace is a group of noble
old sycamores, one of which is said to be the largest tree in Europe.
Its branches extend over a diameter of more than two hundred feet and
are sustained by props. We paced it and made it thirty paces from the
trunk to the tip of the outermost branch. The trunk is twenty-two feet
in circumference, and the tree is perfectly healthy and symmetrical.
The house, or palace, so called, is rude and uncomfortable. There
is nothing attractive about it. The rooms are dark, dismal and
ill-furnished, but it was the favorite residence of King Milos and of
King Michael who were men of primitive tastes. Milos died in an upper
chamber he used to occupy, and everything remains as he left it--his
bed, his clothing, his slippers and a tattered old dressing-gown
hanging on a nail.
* * * * *
PART IV Bosnia
* * * * *
PART IV BOSNIA
XIV A REMARKABLE EXAMPLE OF ADMINISTRATION
The problem which is puzzling the United States in the Philippine
Islands should give our people a particular interest in the little
state of Bosnia, where a similar situation has been successfully
handled by the Austrians. From 1463 to 1878 Bosnia and Herzegovina were
a part of the Turkish Empire, and are nominally so still, although
under Austrian authority. While subject to the Turks, they practically
vanished from the current of civilization. Scarcely a ray of light or
progress brightened the intellectual, social and industrial stagnation
that settled upon these people until 1875, when, exasperated by
extortion, taxation, robbery, rapine, murder and religious persecution,
they rose in rebellion. Upon the failure of the Sultan to restore
order, the great Powers of Europe, at the Berlin Conference of 1878,
placed the two provinces under the protection of Austria, although
still requiring them to pay tribute to Turkey.
The success of the Austrians has been chiefly due to the methods
adopted by Count von Kallay, the able Hungarian statesman who has been
practically a dictator since 1878. For Austria to reconcile a proud
people of different races and religions was no easy task. The results
speak volumes for the forbearance and tact shown by the officials, and
demonstrate the practicability of governing an alien race by justice,
benevolence and liberal treatment.
Thirty years ago Bosnia was in the same condition that Macedonia is
to-day, except that it was worse in the respect that it had a much
larger proportion of Mohammedans and Turkish outlaws. The population
were not fit for liberty, and if it had been granted them by the Berlin
Conference, as they demanded, it would have been a curse instead of
a blessing. A German writer, shortly before the Russo-Turkish war,
described the situation in these words: “The misrule existing in the
whole of the Turkish Empire is so great and so universal that it can
be best characterized as a state of chronic and chaotic anarchy. One
province, however, and that perhaps the least known of all, has in
this respect a sad preëminence. It is a province where one can travel
only with the greatest difficulty, and with not less danger than in
the wilds of Kurdistan, where the intolerance and hate against the
Christians is more living and active than around fanatical Damascus,
and where the condition of the people is more abject and hopeless than
that of any Fellaheen upon the Nile. That province is Bosnia.”
One who visits that country to-day can scarcely believe that such
conditions could have existed only a short time ago--the people are
so peaceful, contented and prosperous. Crime is almost unknown.
Railroads reach every corner of the province, and the freighthouses
are fed by long caravans of carts hauled over excellent highways. The
towns are filled with new and handsome houses, factories have been
built to utilize the water power, a university, colleges, academies,
training-schools and other institutions have been established
to qualify the people to make the most intelligent use of their
opportunities. Members of the different religious faiths mix with each
other on amicable terms and show mutual respect and mutual toleration;
the courts are wisely and honestly administered, justice is awarded
to every citizen regardless of his religion or social position, taxes
are low and honestly collected and disbursed. There has been little
corruption in office and whenever it has been discovered it has been
severely punished. The people have learned for the first time in
their history that honest complaints will be patiently listened to
and that wrongs will be redressed. The introduction of free education
has enabled them to appreciate the value of such a government,
and, although the older peasants are still ignorant, backward and
distrustful, the younger generation show ambition and enterprise, and
are conducting their affairs with intelligence and order.
The most convincing proof of the change in the condition of affairs is
furnished by the statistics of crime and violence and the increase in
population. Thirty years ago brigandage was a recognized profession.
There were no railways, and few wagon roads. When people were compelled
to travel they went in large parties, fully armed, or were accompanied
by an escort of soldiers. Murder was not considered a crime and the
number of people killed by the soldiers or by each other was not
recorded. Robbery was as common as lying. To-day human life is as safe
in Bosnia as in Illinois. Travel is safer there because there has never
been a train robbery in that country. During the last ten years, out of
a total population of nearly 2,000,000, the homicides have averaged
six a year, and in 1900 there were only two. There has been no case of
highway robbery since 1895. Which of the states in the American Union
can show a better record?
Under Turkish rule the population was not counted but in 1879, one
year after Austrian authority was recognized, the census showed
1,111,216 people. In 1885 this total had increased to 1,336,097, in
1895 to 1,568,092, and in 1900 to 1,879,978, of which 548,632 were
Turks, 673,246 Greek orthodox, 494,124 Roman Catholics, 9,311 Jews,
4,695 Protestants and representatives of nearly every religion. This
change has been accomplished by the exercise of a strong, firm, honest
and benevolent government. The proclamation announcing the occupation
of the country by Austria promised that all the people in the land
should enjoy equal rights before the law and should be protected in
life, property and worship. That promise has been kept. Order has been
brought out of anarchy; all races and religions are not only tolerated,
but are encouraged, and the immigration from other Turkish provinces
has been large.
Whatever has been done in Bosnia might also be done in Macedonia but
for the jealousy of the Powers.
Bosnia and Herzegovina are situated in the northwest corner of the
Balkan Peninsula, bounded on the north by the Slavonian province of
Austro-Hungary, on the east by Servia, Turkey and Montenegro, and
on the south and west by Dalmatia and the Adriatic Sea. The country
is mountainous, being broken by high peaks, deep glens, ridges,
beautifully wooded hills, winding streams, and rich alluvial basins,
which yield large crops of grain--wheat, barley, rye, oats and other
cereals--and are especially adapted to fruit. The landscape is a
series of terraces which slope gradually in a southwestward direction
and finally disappear in the Adriatic, whose coast is broken into an
archipelago of lovely islands. The Dalmatian coast is one of the most
enchanting pictures in the universe, and its attractions have been the
theme of poets since the days of Homer.
A curious phenomenon is the abrupt and unreasonable behavior of the
rivers and streams in that region, which, like the North Platte of
Nebraska, disappear from the surface of the earth and lose themselves
in underground passages called _ponars_, reappearing in the most
eccentric and surprising manner. The Narenta is the only river that
finds its way to the sea entirely above ground.
Sarajevo, the capital of Bosnia, a city of 60,000 inhabitants, almost
in the geographical center of the country, is reached by railway
from Belgrade or from Budapest. You change from the trunk-line of
the Austrian state railway at a town called Bosna-brod on the Save
River, which is the boundary of the province, and there you take a
narrow-gauge line belonging to the Bosnian government, which winds
through narrow defiles in the mountains until it reaches the Adriatic
at Metcovic, the port of Bosnia, although within Dalmatian territory.
Along the railway villages and villas cling to the mountain sides
like swallow-nests and are very picturesque, the older ones being of
oriental architecture with towers and minarets, and roofs of red tiles.
There are several medieval castles, more or less in ruins, interspersed
with modern paper mills, tanneries, cigarette factories and other
industrial enterprises introduced by the Austrians. One of those old
castles has been converted into a prison, and is managed on the
Pennsylvania plan, with the most enlightened methods for correction,
reformation and education. Under the Turks prisons were more common,
but were used to satisfy vengeance, to extort money from unwilling
pockets and to torture political suspects and offenders. They were
similar to the prisons of Cuba, perhaps worse; but under the present
system of government the prevention of crime and the reformation of
criminals have been the subject of great solicitude and scientific
study.
Looking from the car windows between villages you would think the train
was running through the Rocky Mountains. The fantastic crags and peaks
of granite, the deep cuttings, the many tunnels, the chasms spanned
by steel bridges and the “right of way” carved out of the sides of
precipices, with the roaring, foaming streams, would remind you of
Colorado. The train is hauled over the grand divide, 2,667 feet high,
by what is called the “rack-and-pinion process,” which, however, must
remain a mystery, because it does not stop for passengers to inspect;
but it is some description of a cable-and-cog-wheel arrangement.
The longest tunnel is 700 yards. The trains run very slowly and
carefully, as if afraid of accidents, and it is a long journey to
cover comparatively a few miles. As a bird flies, the distance between
Bosna-brod and Sarajevo is less than a hundred miles, but winding in
and out among the gorges and following the long curves made necessary
to regulate the grade, you get an all-day’s ride, but finally reach a
vast garden of vineyards, olive groves, foliage plants and truck farms
in an amphitheater surrounded by snow-clad peaks.
Near Sarajevo is a mountain called Trebevic, 5,100 feet high, which
furnishes a sublime view of the surrounding country for a radius of
fifty miles within the circle of the mountain. There is a pavilion
at the summit, reached by a good bridle path, which was built, like
everything else, by the Austrian officials.
Approaching the city of Sarajevo the railway runs through a famous
gorge. The rails cling to the granite walls that inclose the Narenta
River in a way that reminds you of the Black Cañon of Utah. The gorge
is twelve miles long, peaks 6,000 and 7,000 feet high rise on either
side, and the precipices are almost perpendicular to the height of
1,000 feet above the riverbed.
Sarajevo is a partly modernized Turkish town, and in its architecture
and arrangement a curious combination of the old and the new, the
Orient and the Occident. It is half Turkish and half Austrian, and
so many of the inhabitants cling tenaciously to their native customs
that they add to the picturesqueness of the place. I was told that
the city contains a larger variety of types of the oriental races
than even Constantinople, and that in the bazaar may be seen daily a
sample of every native costume worn from the Straits of Gibraltar to
the Red Sea. It requires much local experience and sartorial knowledge
to distinguish a Dalmatian from a Serb, a Magyar from an Albanian,
or a Greek from a Jew, but whatever their ancestry or religion may
be--Slav, Semite, Moslem, Egyptian, Greek, Slavonian, Latin, Swiss,
Saxon, Teuton, Frank, Magyar, Turk, Russian, Swede, Spaniard, Moor or
Nubian--they live in peace and harmony, each recognizing the scruples
of the other concerning the creed and the customs of his faith, and
under the firm and kindly rule of the Austrians they dwell together in
unity. Many of the women also adhere to their native costumes, except
the wives and daughters of the middle class. When you see a veiled
woman you may know that she is a Moslem, but those who wear their faces
uncovered are either Christians or Jews.
Austrian officers in uniform seem to be numerous and popular, and all
classes of the people are grateful for their deliverance from the
unspeakable Turk. The fathers and mothers still find it difficult to
overcome their suspicions and distrust of their rulers, which have been
bred into their bones through long centuries of deception, cruelty and
corruption.
The capital of Bosnia occupies a sightly place in a wide valley
surrounded by picturesque mountains, and is divided into two nearly
equal parts by the Miljacka, a rapid, foaming stream which tumbles
over a rocky bed. Nine or ten artistic bridges, some of them incrusted
with the lichens of centuries, are approached by wide, well-shaded
streets which slope up the mountain sides with a comfortable grade and
give excellent drainage. Observed from the distant hills, Sarajevo
looks as if it were built in terraces, and the trees in the streets
make parallel lines of green alternating with lines of red, which are
the roofs of the houses. In many places are luxuriant gardens reached
through wide archways under the houses in the oriental style, but they
are generally secluded. There is an abundance of pure water supplied
from the mountains for domestic purposes and for the many fountains
which decorate the interior _patios_ of the houses and gardens. While
the residential portion of the town is irregular and only partially
built up, Sarajevo compares well in architecture and in every other
respect with any city of its size in Europe or America, and some time
will be a beautiful place, for it is much favored by nature, and the
inhabitants are rapidly accumulating wealth.
Sarajevo has been frequently compared with Jerusalem and Damascus.
It is often called “the Damascus of the North,” and perhaps the old
part may bear some resemblance to those venerable cities, but the
new part is more like a German or an Italian town. There are several
mosques with minarets and domes and spires. Churches of every religion,
fine office-buildings, apartment-houses, government buildings and
public institutions. The _Rathaus_, or city hall, is a beautiful
modern structure of the oriental school of architecture, and might
have been transplanted from Constantinople or Algiers, while the
_Scheriatschule_, a law college, is also imposing. The citadel or
castle, which formerly was the residence of the Turkish governor, is
an irregular inclosure defended by a high wall with a collection of
buildings representing several ages and schools of architecture. It is
now garrisoned by a battalion of Austrian troops, whose gay uniforms
delight the eyes of the people.
In Budapest I saw a regiment of troops from Bosnia parading the
streets. They were fine-looking young fellows, full of military ardor,
and seemed to take great pride in their appearance. I was told that
there are 7,000 Bosnian soldiers in Austria and Hungary, and an equal
number of Austrian soldiers in Bosnia, which, by the way, is a very
good scheme, if you will stop to think of the effect. According to law
every able-bodied man in Bosnia, upon reaching the age of eighteen, is
required to enter the army for a period of five years, two years being
spent in active service and three years as a member of the reserve.
Those in active service are sent to Austria and Hungary, where they
learn something of life and civilization, become familiar with the
German language and the customs and habits of the people, and make
many friends, often marrying Austrian girls and taking them back to
Bosnia. The government encourages such marriages, and offers tempting
inducements in the way of relief from certain duty and additional pay.
Married soldiers are allowed to live in barracks with their wives, who
are employed as cooks, laundresses and in other capacities. Thus, after
a term of two years spent in the army in Austria, the young Bosnian
goes home thoroughly naturalized and imbued with Austrian ideas, while
those who take wives with them have an even greater attachment to the
empire. Thus the scheme works well. On the other hand, the Austrian
soldiers who are stationed in Bosnia make friends with the people, and
often marry and settle down there. They are encouraged to do so by the
government’s offering inducements similar to those I have described.
Police duty is performed by a force of about 2,500 gendarmes, selected
from the best material in the Bosnian and Austrian reserves. They are
well paid and pensioned, and the pay and privileges are sufficient to
secure men of education, judgment and good habits. This is absolutely
necessary for the success of Austrian government in Bosnia, because
the experience of the people with the Turkish soldiers was so terrible
that a military uniform is still hateful to them. The Bosnian police
are divided in squads of eight or ten men under the command of a
sergeant, and are scattered throughout the country in every community.
They are called upon to perform unusual duties. They not only patrol
their districts to keep the peace, investigate complaints, make arrests
and do ordinary police duty, but also serve as sanitary officers,
veterinarians, legal advisers and instructors in agriculture and the
industrial arts. They are, in fact, fathers to the people, or as one
of them described it, “maids of all work.” The idea is to furnish the
people advisers in all occupations and stations in life, who carry the
authority and the protection of the government with them and bring it
not only into the households, but into the stables and the gardens of
the entire population.
Thus a peasant when he is out of work applies to the policeman, who
knows everybody and everything in the district, and can generally
find him a job. When an old woman wants seed to plant in her garden,
the policeman sends to the agricultural department for a supply. When
he hears that anyone is sick he fetches medicine from the police
dispensary; when an accident occurs he exercises his ingenuity to
aid in making repairs; when a cow or a horse has the distemper he
gives advice to the owner and instructs him how to administer the
proper remedy. When a cabin is to be built or a marriage performed
or a funeral is held on his beat, he is the master of ceremonies,
no matter whether the persons involved are Turks, Roman Catholics,
Protestants or members of the Greek Church. In this way the policemen
become identified with the interests of the people, and obtain their
confidence. And this form of paternalism has been very effective in
winning the Bosnians to the support of the Austrian authorities. The
contrast with the conduct of the Turkish soldiers in the past is so
radical that the system is all the more effective in accomplishing its
purpose; for, in Turkish times, the man most feared by the community
was the policeman, for he was always a robber and often a fiend.
In order to avoid scandals and protect the police from temptation each
gendarme is accompanied at all times by a deputy or assistant who is
both a student studying the business with the expectation of promotion
to the first place, when his turn comes, and a check or restraint upon
his superior, who, by the wholesome regulations, is required to teach
him and set him a good example. There have been cases where dishonest
and vicious men obtain positions in the police corps and oppress
people, but the penalty for malfeasance is very heavy, and whenever a
case occurs it is utilized as an opportunity to furnish an example. The
testimony is almost unanimous that the Bosnian gendarmes are a model
force; that they have acquired the respect and the confidence of the
people, and that to this system is largely due the remarkable success
of the Austrian administration in Bosnia.
The old part of Sarajevo, called Carsija, consists of crooked and
narrow streets running at right angles with shops and bazaars opening
upon the sidewalks as is customary in all oriental towns. The merchants
and mechanics squat on their haunches or sit cross-legged as they
make and sell their wares. Although nearly everything is oriental in
appearance, and sold as souvenirs of the country to tourists, the
greater part of the gay colored silks and cottons were woven in the
factories of Germany and France; the gold and silver embroideries in
arabesque designs were imported from Austria, and much of the jewelry,
the ornamental pipes and velvet slippers, from Paris. The only goods
that can be depended upon as of native workmanship are those that
are manufactured before your eyes. The busy artisans keep at it from
daybreak till bedtime, seldom knocking off except to say their prayers
at the nearest mosque or drink a cup of coffee and smoke a cigarette
at the nearest café. That is the Bosnian idea of rest and pleasure. He
will smoke and drink coffee all day long if he has the leisure to do
so. They tell of men whose daily allowance is a hundred cups of coffee
and a hundred cigarettes.
Contrary to the French and Italian habit the Bosnians never urge people
to purchase their goods. They manifest no eagerness, but offer them
with dignified courtesy and apparent indifference. They never raise
their voices or gesticulate, but imitate their Turkish neighbors, who
are trained from the cradle to observe the command of the prophet who
said: “Be moderate in thy pace and lower thy voice.” Nor do you ever
see a Mohammedan beggar. He never complains. One of the most admirable
characteristics of the race is the composure with which disappointment
and misfortune are accepted. “If you have food, eat,” is his doctrine.
“If you have no food, die.” In his shop as well as in his place of
worship, the Mohammedan practices his religion and preserves the same
proud and uncomplaining calm.
The different trades are governed by guilds as was formerly the rule
throughout Europe. Each guild has a patron saint and a long list
of officers, who fix prices and profits, regulate wages, appoint
apprentices and decide disputes. The trades are classified and each has
its particular locality. Competitors seem to be upon the most friendly
terms.
In the center of the old city is a common meeting-place--a coffee-house
in the oriental style called the Kiraet-han--a resort for the
better class of merchants and artisans, where types of all races
may be found. Near by is the beautiful Begova Djamia, the largest
and the finest mosque in Europe with the exception of St. Sofia in
Constantinople and Selim’s in Adrianople. In the courtyard is the
inevitable fountain, in which the worshipers wash their hands before
performing their religious duties, for cleanliness is not only next to
godliness in the Mohammedan creed, but was declared by the prophet to
be “the key of prayer.” In this courtyard is the official measuring
stone, exactly the Turkish equivalent for a yard in length, and
whenever there is a dispute or discussion as to the accuracy of a
merchant’s measurement he is compelled to subject it to the test.
Many injunctions from the prophet make it difficult for a conscientious
Moslem to compete with the Greeks, Jews, Italians and Austrians, who
are his rivals there. His religious observances take up much valuable
time. He goes to worship five times a day whenever the Hodja calls to
prayer. So many times must he lay his forehead to the ground, repeating
so many verses from the Koran; so many times must he rise to a sitting
posture with his hands upon his knees, and with eyes closed repeat the
gospel of his religion; and so many times must he arise and recite so
many prayers. Not one prayer or position must be omitted or neglected.
As a rule the Mohammedans are much more regular and devout in the
observance of their spiritual duties than the members of the Christian
churches, and no race is so faithful to the teachings of its religion.
They told me there, as I have often heard elsewhere, that no matter how
cruel, bloodthirsty or treacherous a Turk may be, he will not lie or
cheat. I have been frequently advised that I can always trust a Moslem
to give me real value for my money, and depend upon his word as to the
article he sells me, but when I deal with a Christian or a Jew I must
look out for myself. That, however, is a myth, to entertain strangers.
Strangers find great difficulty in distinguishing between the
Christians and the Turks in Bosnia, for both wear turbans, embroidered
waistcoats, loose open jackets, zouave trousers gathered at the knee,
and heelless shoes with toes that turn up like the arms of a crescent,
the same that you see in the windows of shops that sell Turkish goods
at home. The ordinary European costume is being adopted rapidly by
those who wish to be considered up-to-date. The rich families of the
middle class buy all their clothing at Vienna or Budapest, and it is
difficult to distinguish them from the Austrians. Nevertheless there
are little signs by which those familiar with the country can always
tell whether a man he meets upon the street is a Mohammedan or a
Christian. The peasants adhere most tenaciously to the ancient customs,
and by going into the country one can get a much better idea of what
Bosnia used to be than in the cities, although the latter are still
picturesque and interesting. In Turkish times Christians were compelled
to wear a certain costume of dark colors to denote their servile
condition, and it was as much as life was worth for anyone to wear
green, the color of the prophet. The Turks considered it sacrilege,
and the penalty for violating this unwritten law was so terrible that
it was seldom broken. Now, however, any man or woman, Christian, Jew
or Turk, is allowed to wear whatever pleases the taste and fancy, and
you see mixed costumes as often as any, the fez, which was formerly
the distinguishing badge of the Mohammedans, being frequently worn by
Christians and Jews.
A similar change has been going on among the women. Formerly they
were restricted to the harems, as in Turkey, but now they may be seen
in the streets and bazaars and even in the fields, where, before the
Austrian occupation, it was impossible for them to appear, because of
the danger of insult from any passing Turk. They never ventured far
from their homes and the protection of their husbands and neighbors.
It has never been customary for Turkish women to work in the fields
like the Germans and Austrians; but this is all changed, and throughout
Bosnia these days their bright costumes illuminate the landscape in
every direction. They work side by side with men, as in Hungary.
Nowadays, also, many Mohammedan husbands in Bosnia allow their wives
and daughters to be treated by Christian doctors when they are ill,
notwithstanding the superstition that it is contrary to the will of
Allah. Enlightened Mohammedans who have observed the advantages of
the social, agricultural and administrative reforms introduced into
Bosnia and have reflected thoughtfully upon them are gradually yielding
to their better judgment, and, while they will never yield in their
attachment to the old faith, are adopting the customs and habits of
the western world. The lives of women are thus becoming enlarged. They
are being released from the degraded position which they occupy in
all Mohammedan countries. The popular impression that the Mohammedan
religion denies souls and immortality to women is a fallacy. The Koran
teaches the reverse, and admits them to the hope of Paradise; and it
is custom rather than a religious injunction that prohibits them from
entering mosques at the same time with men. Certain hours are allotted
women for prayer in most of the mosques, but some of them they are not
allowed to enter.
The Turk is not altogether terrible. He has many admirable traits.
There is much to be admired in his religion and in the spirit with
which he observes the injunctions of the prophet. The Mohammedans are a
curious contradiction. Although it is asserted that ninety out of every
one hundred cases in the Turkish courts are settled by bribery, and the
official class is absolutely untrustworthy, yet I am informed by those
who have had long experience that the word and still more the oath of
a Mohammedan may be accepted implicitly wherever it affects members
of his own faith. Their religion teaches that those who are guilty of
falsehood shall have no part in the next life. In Egypt and in other
countries the rule is the same as in Bosnia, that when a suit is being
tried between two Moslems, the defendant, if he has justice on his
side, will insist that the plaintiff be compelled to testify, feeling
confident that he will tell the exact truth, if properly questioned,
and admit that he is wrong. Thus it is not because of religion, but in
spite of it, that corruption is universal wherever the Turks control.
In Bosnia the Austrians have separate courts for Turkish cases,
because it is not perjury for a Mohammedan to swear falsely against
a Christian. A different rule and practice is required in the
administration of justice where representatives of both religions are
involved. They also have courts there for the settlement of trifling
differences, in which lawyers are not allowed to appear, because that
honorable profession is accused of encouraging litigation for the
sake of making fees. Before the Austrian occupation this was a great
evil. Almost the entire population were involved one way or another
in lawsuits. If a man was dissatisfied in any way with the conduct of
his neighbor he would drag him into the courts. About twenty years
ago the Austrians decided to put an end to this litigation, and a law
was enacted limiting the number of lawyers to sixteen for the entire
country. No one can be admitted to practice unless there is a vacancy.
The tenure of land was one of the most difficult questions to
deal with, because, under Turkish rule, the larger part of the
cultivated area belonged to the government or the ecclesiastics,
who were oppressive and extortionate in their treatment of their
tenants. Gradually these conditions have been reformed, and, although
agriculture is still in a low state of development, the farmers are
secure in the possession of their lands and are thus encouraged to
improve and cultivate them with care. Eighty-eight per cent of the
population are engaged in farming and raising cattle, sheep and swine.
Tobacco is a very important crop, and a government monopoly. It may be
raised by any farmer under the supervision of the revenue inspectors,
who not only measure the acreage planted, but even count the number
of plants in order that sales to private individuals may be detected.
A considerable proportion of the crop is exported--nearly 2,000 tons
in 1901--but the greater part is manufactured into cigarettes in
government factories, which not only bring in a handsome revenue, but
furnish employment for nearly four thousand women and girls.
The cattle industry is next in importance, there being an average
of one steer, one goat, one hog and three sheep per capita of the
population. The hides are tanned at home and shipped to Great Britain,
France and Austria. They are of the highest grade and bring the best
prices. The next important industry is dried prunes, the exports in
1901 amounting to more than $1,500,000.
Beet sugar is now being manufactured by the government, and silk
culture is also being introduced. The government gives assistance
to the agricultural population in many important ways--by the
establishment of schools of instruction, by the introduction of
new ideas, by furnishing seeds and sample implements and by other
methods. There are several excellent schools of agriculture situated
at convenient locations, where the country people may send their sons
to study the practical cultivation of the soil, and their daughters to
learn how to make butter and cheese, cultivate silk worms and raise
poultry and other by-products which materially increase the family
income. Experts have been brought from Italy to instruct the natives
in the cultivation of silk worms, as the climate and other conditions
appear to be unusually favorable for that industry.
The government has also taken great pains to improve the breeds of
horses, cattle and sheep and to induce the peasants to take proper
care of their stock. It has established farms and studs at convenient
locations and holds cattle and horse shows at the provincial capitals
every year, at which considerable sums are given as prizes to stimulate
competition. There are at least a dozen poultry farms belonging to the
government, where a large variety of game birds and domestic fowls are
kept. Eggs of the best breeds of poultry, ducks, geese and turkeys are
furnished free to farmers who will agree to observe the printed rules
for hatching them, and so successful has this policy been that poultry
is now plenty throughout the entire province. An ordinary chicken can
be bought in the market for ten or fifteen cents and a goose or a
turkey for twenty-five cents. The turkey is so common that we might
properly call it the national bird.
Not only in agriculture but in the other industries has the paternal
policy of the government brought happiness and prosperity to the
people. It has established factories and training-schools in all the
principal towns in order to produce artisans and mechanics, who are
very scarce in that country. Students are educated in the simpler
sciences, such as electricity, chemistry, mechanics, engineering,
architecture and house-building, designing, the construction, repair
and operation of machinery, carpentering, masonry, stone-cutting,
molding, iron-working and the other useful trades. It will not be
the fault of the officials if the next generation of Bosnians is not
thoroughly skilled in the useful arts and trades.
A woolen mill and a carpet factory have recently been established
under government supervision. The former produces fabrics for ordinary
clothing of a low grade, similar to the homespun generally used by
the people. The carpet factory buys the raw wool from the farmers and
turns it into Turkish rugs, which are shipped to Austria and Hungary,
and are sold at good prices. In connection with the factory is a
training school for spinners and weavers, a school of design to develop
the artistic talent of young men and women, and a laboratory for the
manufacture of dyes.
All this is done under official supervision with capital from the
public treasury, and the proceeds add considerably to the public
revenues, although that is not the object aimed at. Under Turkish
rule the Bosnians lived from hand to mouth. They were prevented from
accumulating wealth or acquiring homes or providing themselves with
comforts by the rapacity of their rulers, and hence there was no
incentive for them to labor or save or to improve their condition.
They even hid their houses as far as possible behind clumps of trees
or in the valleys some distance away from the road, hoping that they
might escape the observation of Turkish officials and soldiers. Now
there is no longer any danger, and they are building comfortable cabins
and surrounding them with stables and pens for their poultry and live
stock. It is now safe for women to live or to travel alone in any part
of Bosnia, whereas a few years ago they dared not show themselves in
the fields or on the public highway. More than 200,000 people fled
from Bosnia during the ten years preceding the Russo-Turkish war to
escape the cruelties and extortions of the Turks. They took with them
only what they could carry on their backs, and, leading their little
children by the hand, abandoned their homes and harvests and crept
through the thickets and the forests of the mountains until they
reached the Austrian boundary, where they could live in safety and were
protected, not from their enemies, but from the officials that were
appointed to rule over them.
The cruelties committed by the Turks in their efforts to keep the
people in subjection are indescribable. Centuries of horrors compose
the history of the Bosnian people, and, although almost incredible, it
is officially asserted by the British consul that from 8,000 to 10,000
people were annually murdered by the officials and military guards.
The same conditions prevailed in Bulgaria. They prevail in Macedonia
or Eastern Rumelia to-day, and will continue so long as the Powers of
Europe permit the Turks to govern that country.
The Scheriatschule is a peculiar local institution, in which is taught
Moslem, Christian and Jewish law. In fact, the instruction covers
the laws of all races and religions which is necessary to that mixed
population, where the government endeavors to respect the religious
scruples of every citizen and to adjust its requirements to the
ordinances of the different churches. The Austrian statesmen who were
required to solve the Bosnian problem recognized the importance of a
fact which many rulers in all parts of the world and in all times have
forgotten or overlooked--that religious sentiment and conscience lie
deeper than any other influences that affect human action. Hence, in
Bosnia, each individual is not only allowed to worship in his own way,
but is excused from the observance of laws which conflict with his
religious duties. For that reason different courts are provided for
the trial of different races. Speaking generally, the laws of Turkey
still prevail in Bosnia, because that country is nominally a Turkish
province still, although it never again will come under Turkish power.
There is much that is good in the Turkish statutes, and when honestly
administered they are peculiarly suitable for the government of that
race. It has been necessary, however, to supplement them with local
statutes, which are enacted by an assembly chosen by the tax-payers
of the country. This legislature also assesses taxes and makes
appropriations for public purposes to be disbursed by the executives.
To instruct and qualify natives for the bar, the bench, the
legislature and positions in the executive department of the
government, the Scheriatschule was established, and it now has about
200 pupils who pay a small entrance fee and a moderate price for their
rooms and board. It occupies a large rectangular building of the
oriental style, built of horizontal rows of black and white stone that
suggest a prison garb. It is approached by broad stone stairs with
parterres of flowers on either side, and the entrance is a lofty arch
which leads into a central court decorated with a fountain and flowers.
Upon this court open lecture-rooms, libraries and recitation-rooms, a
dormitory, a refectory and a chapel, well constructed and fitted up
with modern conveniences. Great care has been taken by the Austrians to
make the Bosnian schools models.
There is a fine national museum. Bosnia is unusually rich in ethnology,
and practically an unexplored field for ethnographic research. An
international congress of archeologists and ethnologists met here
several years ago, and the members were handsomely entertained by
the government with the hope of stimulating scientific interest. Its
reports attracted considerable attention, but I cannot learn that the
United States was represented. Prehistoric remains are numerous and
have been practically undisturbed except by the ignorant populace,
who have searched some of them for treasure and dismantled others for
building material. The country has seen successive civilizations from
century to century, and at several periods reached a high degree of
culture under the Romans and the Greeks, which in turn were engulfed
or destroyed by barbaric invasions only to spring up again in another
form. Its art and architecture are largely buried under the soil and
are represented by ruins in the valleys of the mountains. In addition
to Roman and Greek remains there are traces of Germanic, Gothic,
Saracenic and Turkish occupations; but the field, as I have said,
is practically unexplored and should tempt the learned societies to
undertake systematic investigations such as have been carried on in
Greece.
There are good hotels in every part of the province, most of them
having been established by the government either directly or indirectly
by the payment of subsidies, as an inducement to travelers, and they
have proved to be valuable investments. The policy pursued here has
been very different from that adopted by the United States Congress
in our new possessions. We passed a law forbidding the introduction
of new capital and the organization of new enterprises to develop the
industry and material resources of Cuba, Porto Rico and the Philippine
Islands, because our legislators were afraid that somebody would derive
a profit from the application of money, energy or brains. The granting
of franchises was forbidden. Austria has taken the opposite course in
Bosnia, and not only invited capital and enterprise, but erected hotels
in order to entertain their representatives in a comfortable manner and
give them pleasant impressions of the country.
When the Austrians first assumed control everything in Bosnia was
extremely primitive and old-fashioned. There were no conveniences nor
comforts; no modern improvements whatever; but filth, disorder and
discomfort prevailed everywhere, so much so that decent people avoided
Bosnia. The description which Francis Bacon applied to Turkey centuries
ago was true of Bosnia in 1876: “Without morality, without letters,
arts or sciences; a people that can scarce measure an acre of land or
an hour of the day; base and sluttish in building, diet and the like;
and, in a word, a very reproach to human society; and yet this nation
hath made the garden of the world a wilderness, for it is truly said
concerning the Turk--where the Ottoman’s horse sets his foot people
will come up very thin.”
[Illustration: GOVERNMENT HOTELS, BOSNIA]
The Austrians devised every means to induce immigration and capital,
to encourage commerce and industry, and they decided to make the
country attractive to strangers and tourists, who would advertise it.
It is now pleasant to visit Bosnia. The hotels have not only proved
an attraction, but a source of profit. Amusements and pleasures of
all kinds were introduced for the entertainment of the people, who,
under Turkish rule, had been deprived of everything of that sort. The
diversions have been gratefully appreciated--theaters, operas, parks,
museums, gardens, cafés, military bands, parades, ceremonials--by a
people whose natural love of music and motion is very strong. They
also have proved remarkably important in diverting their minds from
politics and opening to them a new world. This is another hint to the
administration of affairs in the Philippines, where the people have
similar tastes and the conditions are very much like those that existed
in Bosnia twenty-five years ago.
The official residence of the Austrian governor-general is a pleasant
structure surrounded by rich gardens and shrubbery, and is called the
Konak. It was built half a century ago for the use of the Turkish
pasha, who was a man of luxury and taste, and had unlimited command
of money. In many places are other evidences of official and private
extravagance, and the people were taxed to pay for it.
The Roman Catholic church is a fine Gothic structure, with two handsome
spires. It was built by the government with contributions from the
Catholics of Vienna and other Austrian cities. The orthodox Greek
church is also imposing, and most of the wealthy men are members of
that faith. The Jewish synagogue is also a notable building. There is
no Protestant church.
Under Turkish rule all public worship except that of the Moslems was
forbidden, but the Christians were allowed to say their prayers in
secret. They were known as _rayahs_,--the word means “ransomed”--those
who have merited death because of unbelief, but have purchased
permission to live by paying tribute. Western Christians do not
appreciate the religious heroism which the poor peasants, not of Bosnia
only, but of Bulgaria, Macedonia and other parts of the Balkans, have
displayed during all the centuries that they have suffered from the
persecution of the Turks. They have lived in daily dread of martyrdom,
for the Mohammedans consider that they do no wrong when they kill
a Christian. Nevertheless the Greeks and the Roman Catholics clung
to their faith when they might at any moment have secured safety,
prosperity and position by recanting and accepting the religion of
their oppressors. The same may be said of the Jews, who actually
increased in numbers under persecution because emigrants came from
Roumania, where they suffered even more from the Christians than in
Bosnia from the Turks.
Since the Austrian occupation there has been a large invasion of Jewish
traders, who have been attracted by the commercial opportunities.
But, curiously enough, the old Jewish families will have nothing to
do with the newcomers. They are descendants of the Jews who were
driven out of Spain in 1574 and obtained permission from the Sultan of
Turkey to settle in Bosnia and Servia. They number altogether about
7,000, and at least 3,000 live in Sarajevo. They speak Spanish among
themselves and have preserved their ancient customs and habits. Their
burial-ground in a suburb of the city, on the slope of the Mountain
Trebevic, is an interesting place. Unhewn boulders are used for
tombstones, a practice which originated when the Jews were too poor to
buy anything better.
[Illustration: JEWISH CEMETERY IN BOSNIA]
The Bosnian Jews claim exemption from the persecution imposed upon
the rest of their race on the ground that they are descended from a
member of the Sanhedrin of Pilate, who voted against the crucifixion of
Christ. The same claim is made by the Jews of Toledo, Spain.
It is the prevailing impression that the Turks are the most difficult
of all races to govern, but the Austrian experiment in Bosnia has
demonstrated that this is a mistake. The better class of the Turkish
population have welcomed the restoration of order and have been
the strongest supporters of the new government. The officials have
suppressed the fanatics by the application of a punishment which they
dread more than death. To shoot or kill a Mohammedan is simply to send
him to the paradise he is seeking, and he believes that he will rise
again in the actual body; but if his body is burned or cut to pieces it
is impossible for him to attain paradise, for he cannot rise again or
be translated if his soul has no body to inhabit. Therefore all Moslem
believers who have been convicted of murder or other capital crimes
have been sentenced to death and cremation, which so terrified the
fanatics that they have left the country.
The Bosnians are naturally very bright, although the lack of
educational facilities and the ordinary compensations for industry
and ingenuity have kept them down. Occasionally some man like Nikola
Tesla, the famous electrician of New York, who is a native of Bosnia,
has broken through the restrictions and has found an opportunity to
develop his genius elsewhere. But such cases are very few. Long Turkish
oppression crushed the minds as well as the spirits of the people, and
only with the coming generation are they beginning to show the talents,
ingenuity and other natural qualities which their admirers have claimed
for them. They are naturally honest, too, although until recently they
have had few examples of integrity to imitate. There is very little
stealing, and corruption in office has been so severely punished that
the government is almost free from it. At first natives who were
favored with official positions attempted to imitate the practices
of the Turks who preceded them, but soon found that it would not be
tolerated, and I was assured that for four or five years there have
been no cases of official dishonesty detected. On the other hand, the
Austrian officials have set excellent examples for the natives in this
respect.
A large part of the property in Bosnia belongs to the government or the
ecclesiastical authorities, or has been bequeathed or appropriated to
religious and charitable objects and held in trust by officials for the
benefit of mosques, hospitals, schools, fountains and for the relief of
the sick and the poor. Under the Turks the revenues of these properties
were generally stolen, but since the Austrian occupation the business
has been so well managed that it has not only supported but paid for
the extensive improvement of the charities for which it was intended.
The same may be said of the government revenues. Under the Turks the
harvests were not allowed to be gathered until the collectors had
calculated the amount of taxes and had received the money, which was
often one-third of the total value and usually one-fifth, and a great
part of the money went into the pockets of the collectors instead of
the public treasury. This was such a common practice that everybody
knew all about it, and hence the reforms which the Austrians have
introduced are all the more conspicuous.
The most fascinating town in Bosnia is Jajce, where the people have had
so little intercourse with the outside world that they still retain the
customs and manners and wear the costumes of their ancestors four or
five centuries back. The women are clothed in brilliant colors and load
themselves with ornaments of silver, bronze and enamel. Like the Hindus
and the North American Indians, they wear the greater portion of their
wealth upon their bodies. The men dress in white sheepskin, beautifully
tanned. In summer they wear the wool outside and in the winter they
wear it inside. The arms and hands of both men and women are usually
tattooed with religious emblems. They are devout Catholics, and you
seldom find a boy or a girl over sixteen who does not carry a crucifix
tattooed upon some part of the person. Both men and women wear their
hair long.
At Jajce is one of the most celebrated of sanctuaries, the Church
of St. Luke, which is venerated equally by Catholics, Greeks and
Mohammedans, as everybody believes that it was the early burial-place
of the apostle, and that when it was threatened with destruction by
the Turks in the Middle Ages an army of angels lifted it from one
side of the river to the other. You are shown the place where the
church formerly stood on the east bank, and the inhabitants of all
the surrounding country would regard you as a hopeless skeptic if you
expressed a doubt of the truth of the story that it was lifted by
invisible hands, carried several hundred yards and placed intact upon
a new foundation. Thousands of pilgrims, especially people who are
crippled and diseased, visit the shrine, and many miracles have been
performed there.
According to the local belief, St. Luke lived and died in Jajce, and
was buried in this church, but the priest in charge says that is a
mistake. He does not know of any evidence that the apostle ever lived
at Jajce, and believes that he died in Syria, but the records show that
in the thirteenth century the remains of the apostle were brought from
Constantinople to Rogus, one of the towns upon the Adriatic coast,
and, in 1436, George Brankovic, King of Servia, purchased them of
the Turkish governor of that province. The latter, fearing a riot in
the town if an attempt were made to take them away, caused his spies
to circulate a rumor that the Sultan had ordered a census for the
purpose of taxation and military service, and that it would be taken
on a certain day. All the Christian population had business in the
country for a few days about that time, so that they might evade the
enumerators. While they were absent the holy casket was secretly taken
from the church and carried aboard a vessel. For several months it was
not missed, and the theft was not detected until rumors began to come
back from Servia concerning its reception in that country.
Helena, daughter of Brankovic, married Tyrtko, the last king of Bosnia,
and took the body with her as part of her dowry. When Jajce was
captured by the Turks she managed to escape and carried it to Italy,
where it was placed in the convent of St. Giustina at Padua.
A voyage up the Adriatic to Venice or Trieste along the Dalmatian
coast is one of the most enjoyable that can be imagined. The scenery
is sublime. The cloudless blue of the skies and the water, the purple
tints of the hills, mingled with the orange and scarlet of the autumn
foliage, make a harmony of color that can scarcely be found elsewhere,
while the little islands that make up the archipelago protect the
coast from rough water, and the steamers glide in and out among them
without feeling the wind or the tide or any other marine disturbance
that a passenger can object to. It is very much like sailing through
the famous Inland Sea of Japan, only in this case you have a continuous
coast on one side, while in the other it is on both sides. There is a
choice of steamers, two or three a week, so that one can stop off at
any of the beautiful little towns for twenty-four or forty-eight hours
and then take up his journey again.
Cattaro is only interesting and important as the port of the little
principality of Montenegro, which has caused so much dissention among
the European nations, and the terminus of the road to Cetinje, its
capital. Cattaro does not belong to Montenegro, because England and
Austria are afraid Prince Nicholas would cede it to Russia if he had
the power to do so. Montenegro is theoretically independent, and
under the protection of the great Powers, but there is a very close
intimacy between the ruling family and the imperial house of Russia,
and everybody believes that there is a secret treaty of alliance also.
Like the other Balkan States, Montenegro was a province of Turkey until
1878, when the treaty of Berlin made it independent, and, although it
contains a population of only 228,000, less than that of the District
of Columbia, its political importance is great. Two of the daughters of
the reigning prince have married cousins of the Czar, another is the
wife of the King of Italy, and a fourth is the Duchess of Leuchtenburg,
whose husband is next to a king.
Ragusa, another of the towns on the coast, and a charming old place, is
identified with some of the most stirring incidents in history. In the
Middle Ages it was almost as powerful as Venice, Naples or Genoa, and
was able to resist the attacks of the Turks. Here Richard Cœur-de-Leon
landed on his return from the Crusade. During a gale at sea he made a
vow that he would build a church to his patron saint on the spot where
he was permitted to make a safe landing. He finally went ashore on the
little island of La Croma, then moved over to Ragusa, where the people
received him with such hospitality that he asked the Pope to relieve
him from his vow and let him build the church in Ragusa, which had
several thousand inhabitants, instead of upon a barren little island.
But the Pope would not grant his prayer, and, like the gentleman that
he was, he built churches in both places. That at Ragusa was destroyed
in an earthquake in the seventeenth century, but the church at La Croma
still stands.
Metkovic, the port of Bosnia on the Mediterranean, and the southern
terminus of the state railway, is situated upon a point of land made
by the silt of the Narenta River, twelve miles from its mouth, and
has the unhappy reputation of being the most unhealthy port on the
Adriatic. The surrounding country is swampy, and miasmatic poisons are
believed to rise in clouds from the surface of the earth whenever the
sun goes down. It is purely a modern commercial city, with about 4,000
population, mostly Italians, Greeks and Jews, and looks like an Italian
town. Everybody is engaged in fishing or shipping. Metkovic will become
a port of growing importance as the trade of Bosnia develops, but
people never stop there if they can help it for fear of malaria and
mosquitoes, and the trains from Sarajevo are arranged to connect with
the steamers so that passengers can be rushed through as if it were
a plague-infested place. I do not think it is any worse than Colon,
and it really looks much better, because the buildings are of stone
or stuccoed brick, with thick walls, solid floors and tiled roofs,
while Colon is a collection of bamboo huts and wooden houses. Metkovic
is fourteen miles from salt water. A canal is being dredged through
the delta, which is broad and level, so that the largest steamers can
reach the docks instead of handling cargoes in lighters. The marsh,
being made of the soil washed down from the mountains, is of prodigious
richness, and marvelous stories are told of its fertility; but the
atmosphere is so unhealthful that few people attempt to cultivate the
land. Syndicates have been organized to drain the marsh, but the outlay
is too great. I have seen tropical vegetation along the Spanish Main,
in Yucatan, Cuba and the other West India Islands, in the valleys of
the Amazon and the Orinoco, but there is nothing on the American
hemisphere to compare with the plant life there.
The most interesting of the many places along the eastern coast of the
Adriatic are Spalato and Salona, where are found the most extensive and
best-preserved Roman ruins and remains in all that country. Centuries
before the birth of Christ, Salona was a populous and prosperous city,
and its people were far advanced in culture; quite equal to those of
Rome. Their wealth and artistic taste, their luxurious habits and
rivalry in display, are clearly illustrated by the remains of their
palaces, baths and places of amusement. The entire district for fifty
miles around is full of absorbing attractions to archeologists and
historians, and the palace of Diocletian at Salona is declared to
be the best-preserved example of Roman architecture of its period
now extant. It possesses extraordinary interest for everybody, and
fascinates artists and architects.
Attracted by the entrancing scenery of Salona, his native place, the
Emperor Diocletian, at the height of his power and opulence, erected
here an incomparable retreat in which he spent his declining years.
The palace, or more properly the series of palaces, covers nearly ten
acres of ground, and contemporary writers relate that 6,000 servants,
attendants and guards were required to protect and wait upon this
luxurious Roman. The palace was twelve years in construction, and
must have cost an enormous sum of money, for in size, magnificence
and architectural pretensions it surpassed all dwellings that had
been erected before or have been erected since. At the time of its
completion, at the end of the third century after Christ, it was
doubtless the largest, the most beautiful and costly structure ever
built by human hands. Many of the architectural details still remain
in a perfect or partial state of preservation, sufficient to excite the
wonder and the admiration of visitors. The most perfect portions are
the mausoleum, intended for Diocletian’s tomb, which is now used as a
church; the Capella Palatine, now the baptistery; the main vestibule,
a colonnade and three of the gates. All of them are sufficiently well
preserved to permit an accurate study, but the rest of the palaces
have been practically destroyed, and the marble is being gradually
carried to Trieste, Venice and even to Rome and other cities of Italy
for building purposes. Several of the most beautiful palaces in Venice
are said to have been constructed entirely of material taken from the
palace of Diocletian. After the death of the emperor, in 313 A.D., the
palace became state property, but none of his successors ever made it
an abode, because of the expense of maintaining the establishment.
Shortly after the Christian era it was converted into a fortress and
after the fall of the Roman empire was allowed to crumble into ruins.
* * * * *
PART V Greece
* * * * *
PART V GREECE
XV FROM CORFU TO CORINTH
A little narrow-gauge railway runs across the kingdom of Greece from
Patras to the town of Corinth, hugging the Gulf of Corinth, and then,
crossing a ridge that divides the isthmus, follows the shore of the
Saronic Gulf to Athens. There are altogether about six hundred miles
of railroad under operation in Greece, and about three hundred miles
abandoned. You can find the track of the latter in various parts of
the country, but the most important of the abandoned routes was to run
up through Thessaly, the northern part of the kingdom, to the Turkish
frontier. A little more patience and a little more money would have
carried it through and made a splendid thing for the entire country,
because the people of southern Greece do not raise food enough to
supply their own wants, while in northern Greece there is a good deal
to spare. The difference in the price of bread in the Peloponnesus and
in Thessaly is unnaturally great, for the Thessalians have few markets
and the Peloponnesians have few farms. This railroad was expected to
equalize things, but unfortunately it has not been completed and the
rails lie rusting until they are stolen for old iron.
Brindisi is the gateway to the East. The steamers for India, China and
Japan touch there coming and going, to leave and take passengers for
and from Paris, London, Berlin and other parts of Europe, who can thus
save the long voyage of seven or eight days from Bremen and Hamburg
and five and six days from London and Havre, and cross Europe by rail.
Special trains with dining-cars and sleepers are run in connection with
the steamers which carry the mails also, making Paris and Berlin in
thirty-six hours from Brindisi and London in forty-eight.
When you leave Brindisi going east you enter Hellenic ground. The
Adriatic, like some other beauties, has an uncertain temper and behaves
badly sometimes. It is called “the blue Adriatic,” “the gem of seas,”
“the sapphire sea,” and by other poetic names, but it is also “the
stormy Adriatic,” and an old seaman told me that “it could kick up more
sea than the Atlantic Ocean on the slightest provocation.” The steamers
for Greece generally leave Brindisi at midnight, so as to reach the
opposite coast early in the morning, and there, when you awaken, if you
please, you can see the sun rise upon masses of solid snow that crown
the mountains of the Albanian coast of Turkey. The land of mythology is
before you. Every island, every mountain, every valley was the scene
of some fable, the abode of some god, or a battlefield that you read
about in the Greek classics when you were in college. The places and
the names of ancient history are brought home in a familiar way, and as
you gaze from the deck of the steamer upon them they look like the real
thing.
At Corfu, a beautiful little island lying off the Turkish coast, you
get your first view of oriental life and customs, and a girl with a
kodak is kept busy taking snap-shots of the queer things she sees.
There is a temptation to photograph all the ruins, because they remind
you of the warriors, heroes and philosophers you studied about when a
boy, and Greece is full of them. The island of Ithaca excites vivid
recollections, and the Phæacian ship which brought Ulysses home lies
in the harbor of Corfu, turned to stone. It is now occupied by a
monastery of Greek monks and called by the humiliating name of Mouse
Island. According to the Odyssey, after he was wrecked, Ulysses landed
at Corfu, swimming to the shore. He made up a bed of dead leaves on the
rocks as a precaution against rheumatism, and, worn out by excitement,
peril and fatigue, sank into a dreamless sleep. There he was discovered
by Nausicaa, a beautiful princess, upon whose charms Homer loves to
linger. She was the daughter of King Alcinous, and when Ulysses awoke
she led him to her father’s palace, with its exquisite gardens and
luscious fruits. The local guides, who endeavor to adjust their moral
consciousness to the curiosity of visitors, and the topography of
the island to the demands made upon them, show the exact place where
Ulysses swam ashore, and tell you that the garden of the King Alcinous
is now occupied by the country palace of King George of Greece, one
of the most democratic and considerate of monarchs, who loves to have
the people enjoy everything that belongs to him. He opens his gates to
strangers and subjects alike. Nobody is required to pay a fee or even
to ask permission, although the proper thing to do is to leave a card
at the porter’s lodge and a word of appreciation, which that official
takes entirely to himself. One of the streets in Corfu is named in
honor of King Alcinous, and Ulysses is considered a sort of stepson of
whom the community is exceedingly proud.
Corfu has been the scene of many exciting events both in modern and
mythological times. When we arrived the people were more or less
excited over the action of the government in expelling the late Mahmoud
Damad Pasha, brother-in-law of the Sultan of Turkey, and Hadji Kadri
and Siret, two other Turkish exiles, who were accused of sedition and
conspiracy, and, having fled from Constantinople, took refuge upon the
beautiful Greek island, where they were received with warm sympathy and
treated with distinguished respect. The government of Greece, however,
could not very well furnish an asylum to Turkish fugitives of such
eminent notoriety. The relations between the two countries have been
cordial since the close of the war four years ago, and the Grecian
ministry considered it prudent not to offer any new cause of offense.
So the Sultan’s brother-in-law and his companions were requested to
leave Corfu and go to Switzerland, which is the most hospitable country
in Europe to political exiles.
Corfu hates the Turks. No people on the earth’s surface hates them
more, not even the Bulgarians or Macedonians, although more than two
centuries have passed since the wrongs of which they complain were
committed. From 1815 to 1863, with the other Ionian islands, Corfu was
occupied by the English, and in the latter year, upon the accession of
the present King George to the throne, Mr. Gladstone persuaded Queen
Victoria to give them back to Greece. That accounts for a statue of Mr.
Gladstone, before the university in Athens, erected by the students a
few years ago.
Fortunately for those who go to Corfu to enjoy the climate--and it
is a favorite winter resort for people with weak lungs, and other
invalids--the English administration built a fine system of roads which
are still kept in comparatively good repair, although the modern Greeks
will never be celebrated for road-building. You can drive from one end
of the island to the other and, during the spring and autumn, it is
as near paradise as any place on earth. The late Empress of Austria
had a beautiful villa on the outskirts of the city. It was proposed to
bring the late Czar of Russia to Corfu in the hope that his life might
be saved, and numerous other famous invalids have sought health and
strength in its glorious sunshine and soft, but invigorating air.
The island embraces about 277 square miles, and is thickly settled,
having more than 115,000 inhabitants Most of the surface is covered
with olive groves. It is estimated that there are more than 4,000,000
trees, which are allowed to grow without pruning and develop a beauty
and attain a size unparalleled elsewhere. The manufacture and export of
preserved olives and olive oil is the chief occupation of the people,
but they raise a good deal of other fruit and wine, and their cheese
made from goat’s milk is famous in the London and Paris markets.
To the beauty of the scenery and the delightful climate is added the
charm that always attends the mysteries of mythology, and besides the
romance of Ulysses many other stories of ancient days were located
there. Near the base of a picturesque old citadel with twin towers is
a low, circular structure dating back to the sixth or seventh century
before Christ, but the inscription is still decipherable and records
that this monument was erected to Menerates, son of Tlasias, who
lost his life by drowning. Near by are two or three monuments erected
in honor of officials of the British government who distinguished
themselves during the occupation.
Sailing toward Patras, the steamer from Corfu soon passes the
Ambracian Gulf, where Octavius laid the foundation of his influence
in Rome by a victory over the fleet of his rival, Mark Antony, and a
little farther down is the island of Leucas, where, according to the
ancient story-tellers, Sappho plunged into the sea because Phaon did
not return her love. A little farther on is Ithaca, whose connection
with the Odyssey has made it familiar to every student of Greek, for
the wanderings and misfortunes, the sufferings and the fortitude of
Ulysses, the king of this island, have been handed down to us in one
of the most fascinating stories of adventure. His descendants occupy
Ithaca to-day, and are distinguished for their bold seamanship, their
love of home, their hospitality and their courage, and their mercantile
instincts have made them rich. The most important product of the island
is a strong aromatic wine. They show you where Homer lived in the town
of Stavros, and an ancient staircase cut in the rock leads past a Greek
church to a rectangular forum hewn in the side of the mountain. It is
surrounded by seats and looks like an ancient place of worship, but is
claimed to be the place where Homer had a school.
Nearly every natural phenomenon upon the island is described in the
Odyssey--even a stalactite cave to which any boy in town will lead
you through a vineyard and over stony goat pastures. The entrance
is narrow, and it is hard work for fat men to squeeze through, but
with a little effort you can enter a damp chamber about fifty feet
in diameter and thirty feet in height, from the roof of which hang
numerous stalactites like those to be seen in Mammoth Cave, Kentucky.
If you want to know how it looks, read Book XIII of the Odyssey, where
Homer describes the grotto of the nymphs.
The suitors of Penelope waited for the return of Telemachus upon a
little island on the east of Ithaca, and on the island of Zante, from
which we get so many currants and raisins, the fishermen still collect
pitch to calk their boats from a spring mentioned by Herodotus.
Patras is one of the most enterprising commercial towns of Greece,
and one of the oldest. It is second to Athens in population and has
one-third of all the commerce of the country. In some respects it is
the most modern of Grecian towns, but its history can be traced back at
least seven centuries before Christ. Patras was also one of the first
centers of Christian teaching, and, according to local tradition, the
Apostle Andrew was crucified and buried there. He is the patron saint
of the town and the cathedral is dedicated to his memory.
Near by is a curious spring, to which is attached a superstition that
has kept its hold upon the people since the age of mythology, when,
as now, sick people looked upon their reflections in the water and by
their appearance judged as to the probability of recovery. The effect
appears to be a matter of light. If the sun is obscured by clouds or
happens to be in a certain part of the heavens every face reflected in
the water shows a deathlike pallor. With a clear sky and at high noon
the reflection is always full and ruddy with color.
From Patras to Corinth, along the edge of the gulf, through olive
groves and currant plantations, with a range of snow-clad mountains
on one side and picturesque hills on the other, is a delightful
journey. The culture of currants seems to absorb the greatest degree of
attention. They tell me that toothsome little fruit was formerly called
“corenth,” taking its name from the historic city. The currant trade
is the largest and the most profitable in Greece, and a considerable
part of the cultivated area is planted like the vineyards of Italy, in
rows about three feet apart, with single stalks, which are trimmed down
every fall in order to strengthen the roots. New shoots spring out with
the sunshine in March and April, and, by August, are loaded with large
light and dark currants unlike those grown in America. You can buy them
in boxes at any grocery store for mince pies, fruit-cake, plum pudding
or that sort of thing. The development of this industry has been
gradual. In 1830, after the independence of Greece was established,
the crop amounted to only about 1,900 tons. In 1899 it was 153,500
tons, and it was a poor year. The average for the last ten years
has been about 170,000 tons, and the value of the currants exported
annually has reached nearly $8,000,000. The largest quantity goes to
England and France. The United States takes 10,000 tons, which, you
must appreciate, is an enormous quantity of dried currants. The French
wine-growers use them for toning up their wine.
While currant-culture is profitable, there is a good deal of risk in
it. The crop is easily affected both by drought and excessive rains.
Severe wind-storms may blow the fruit off the bushes, and the hills
surrounding the Gulf of Corinth, which is the most productive section
of the country, are exposed to storms which at any day may convert a
good crop into a poor one.
Olive oil is also a source of wealth, and the beautiful silver-leaved
trees are one of the pleasantest features of the landscape. Olive trees
live to a great age. It is asserted by some who delight to entertain
travelers that groves are now standing which bore fruit in the days of
Socrates and Demosthenes, and near Eleusis, trees are pointed out which
may have been standing for 2,800 years. The trunks are enormous and are
perforated with holes, new bark having grown around the wounds made by
decay. Most of the olives are consumed in the country. Much of the oil
is sent to France.
Owing to the infrequent and irregular rains, irrigation is necessary
everywhere in Greece; and every farmer has a simple and limited
irrigation system of his own. The water is pumped up from wells by
blindfolded mules, horses or oxen, and pours into cement reservoirs
set at such an elevation as will give a natural flow into the fields.
Windmills are not used.
At every railway station were crowds of people, many of them in
the picturesque native costume, which is a cross between that of a
ballet-dancer and a Highland chieftain. The kilts are white cotton,
accordion-plaited, and worn over white woolen tights, with black
garters below the knee. The shoe or slipper is without a heel, curling
up over the toe like an old-fashioned skate, and having a large
rosette or pompon of silk or black cotton upon the tip. The jacket
is beautifully embroidered in gold or silver braid, sleeveless and
open in front. The shirt sleeves of cotton are full and flowing, and
the front of the shirt is plaited. The collar is a stiff circlet,
embroidered with gold thread or braid; the girdle is often of leather
or sometimes a sort of sash. A Greek gentleman in full dress or a
servant in complete livery will wear a pistol and two or three daggers
stuck in between his belt and his shirt-front in a handy sort of way.
The peasant wears a leathern belt, with a sheathed dagger or a pouch
over the pit of his stomach, from which the handles of a knife and a
revolver usually protrude. The Greek still wears the red Phrygian cap
upon his head, and the tassel dangles down upon his shoulder in an
artistic way.
A “well-greaved Greek” is the most picturesque looking object in
Europe. No other costume will compare with his; but, like all national
peculiarities, it is gradually becoming obsolete. You see it in the
country and towns of the interior, but in the cities few people wear
it. The aristocracy dress their servants in that way, which has made it
unpopular among the mechanics and the working classes generally. They
fear people will mistake them for household servants.
In the rural districts, however, those objections do not prevail, and
almost all the natives at the railway stations and the few men who
were digging in the fields were in native dress. Their picturesqueness
would be greatly enhanced if they were a little neater about their
persons. At first acquaintance the modern Greek does not inspire
either admiration or confidence. He is very dirty as to his garments,
as to his habits and as to his house, and, I grieve to say, judging
from appearances, that he lets his wife and sisters carry more than
their share of the load. Most of the labor in the fields, as we passed
through on the railroads, was being done by women. We saw women
staggering along the highways under heavy cargoes, which they carried
upon their heads, and clambering down from the mountains with big
bundles of fagots upon their backs. In fact, the men seemed to have
selected the easy jobs. None of them had burdens upon their heads or
backs, and very few were toiling in the fields. They were driving carts
and watching the sheep, goats and swine while their wives and daughters
were swinging the hoe.
“As beautiful as a Greek shepherd” used to be a favorite phrase with
writers of romance, but I doubt if those who used it had ever seen
one, for the ideal Greek shepherd is not visible to the ordinary eye.
The men who tend the flocks are stupid, filthy-looking fellows, with
blank faces, matted beards and clothing that apparently has never seen
a laundry. The ancient Greek knew all about statuary and architecture.
That we know by evidences that have been found under the soil of his
country; but the modern Greek of the working class lives in a house
that is comfortless, unclean and dismal, with no evidences of beauty
or taste or culture. He needs whitewash, chloride of lime and carbolic
acid, although it is claimed by many that his intellect is as strong
and active as those of his prototype who lived twenty centuries ago.
In passing through the railway towns of the “currant country” nature
alone is lovely. Everything else seems stricken with poverty and
neglect. The men who hang around the railway stations seem to be
indifferent to their condition and do not inspire either respect or
admiration, although their conversational powers seem to be well
developed, and nearly every one of them carried a string of beads--not
to count his prayers, but to occupy his hands while talking. Beads
are aids to conversation. Members of parliament use them when making
speeches. I never learned that Demosthenes required any such auxiliary
to eloquence, but am assured that the activity of the brain and the
fluency of tongue are increased by fingering them.
Modern Corinth, which stands at the head of the gulf, is a town of
four thousand inhabitants, having been founded only forty years ago,
after the last houses of the ancient town had been overturned by an
earthquake. During recent years its prosperity has been considerably
revived by the completion of a ship-canal, cut through the clay ridge
that divides the Gulf of Corinth and the Saronic Gulf, which shortens
the journey for ships by two hundred and two miles. The idea of cutting
a canal through that isthmus was proposed by the ancients and was
undertaken by Caesar, Hadrian and Nero. Traces of the work of Nero
still exist. The present canal was built by a French company and opened
in 1893. It is three miles and a half in length, one hundred feet in
breadth, and can accommodate vessels drawing twenty-six feet of water.
There are no locks or sluices, but it is on the tidewater level, with
breakwaters to protect the entrances.
[Illustration: A YOUNG AND AN OLD CORINTHIAN]
Old Corinth, that St. Paul visited three times and possibly four, and
which was one of the most important, populous, immoral and enterprising
cities of his day, is dead and buried. Buttercups and dandelions are
growing upon its grave, as bright and cheerful as those that decorate
the prairies of Kansas or the dooryards of New England. The Grecian
buttercup is not so large nor so beautiful as that we found in Norway,
but it gives one a home feeling to find it everywhere--a universal
flower. New Corinth resembles Santa Fé and other of the adobe towns of
New Mexico and Arizona. It is surrounded by clay cliffs, weatherworn
into fantastic shapes like those of the Rio Grande valley, and the
dust is deep in the unpaved streets. The same lean cattle, mangy dogs
and half-naked children playing in the sunshine; the same diminutive
donkeys, the modern “Greek slaves,” bearing burdens that hide their
bodies and leave only their legs and ears exposed; the same mud fences
and adobe walls that are found in New Mexico; the same bake-ovens
beside the cabins, and women of similar features, wearing similar
garments, picking the live stock out of the children’s hair. Crowds of
men are sitting at tables in front of the cafés, drinking coffee and
talking politics, and the same dilapidated vehicles that you see in the
old Spanish-American settlements were waiting for our arrival at the
railway station.
The town has a beautiful site, at the head of the gulf. The water has
a deep-blue color, with opalescent tints upon the surface. It receded
in ancient times and left a sandy beach upon which goats were browsing
among old barrel-hoops, piles of rubbish and struggling weeds, and
fishermen were leisurely mending their nets beside their boats, or in
the shade of the little shanties in which they keep their implements.
Modern Corinth is surrounded by mighty hills upon which shepherds
were guarding sheep and cattle, and when storms come upon them they
find shelter in the caves that the wind and the rain have burrowed in
the clay cliffs. At the top of the highest hill, the Acro-Corinth, as
it is called, is a medieval fortress erected by the Venetians when
they possessed the country. It is surrounded by ruins of houses and
temples from which the material to build the fort was taken. The view
from the peak, famous even in antiquity, embraces a great part of the
mountainous district on both sides of the Gulf of Corinth, which is
spread out like a map around the observer. In ancient times a watch was
always kept there to signal the approach of an enemy to the people of
the towns and the farmers in the valley below.
The traveler who enters Greece from the west has a continuous view of
Parnassus, which rears its snow-clad summit among less famous mountains
upon the opposite side of the gulf, and beside it is the beautiful
Helicon, the haunt of the Muses. In clear weather the Acropolis of
Athens is visible, the pillars of the Parthenon and the glistening
marble walls of the royal palace.
Near the base of Acro-Corinth is the remarkable spring of Pirene,
which, according to mythology, gushed forth at a stroke of the hoof
of Pegasus, and was bestowed on Sisyphus by the river god Asopus,
in return for his having revealed the hiding-place of the owner’s
daughter, Aegina, who had been carried off by Zeus. Near by are ruins
of a barracks and several dismounted cannon.
In the golden age, four hundred years before Christ, old Corinth was
the most splendid, luxurious and wealthy, the most frivolous and wicked
of all the cities of Greece. It was a commercial metropolis, the
Chicago of that period, a center and focus of financial affairs, and
stood upon a plateau about six miles from the sea, upon the side of
the hill called Acro-Corinth, looking down upon a narrow and beautiful
inlet of blue water, between two ranges of mountains. The Gulf of
Corinth is often compared to the fjords of Norway, but its surroundings
are mild and modest beside their rugged grandeur. It bears a closer
resemblance to the Bosphorus and to the Inland Sea of Japan.
The road which leads from the railway station at new Corinth to the
ruins of the old city is exceptionally good for Greece. It rises with
an almost imperceptible grade toward a group of seven majestic columns,
the earliest examples of the Doric school of architecture extant, and
one of the oldest and most precious monuments of the art, scholarship
and religion of ancient Greece. They are deeply fluted monoliths,
twenty-three and one-half feet high, five feet and eight inches in
diameter at the base and four feet and three inches at the top, with
projecting capitals and heavy entablature. They were once covered with
enamel. Five of them are nearly perfect. The other two have been broken
and the pieces are now held together by iron bands. All have been
gnawed more or less by the tooth of time and show curious wounds, which
look as if they had been cut with a chisel. These pillars are all that
remain of the famous Temple of Apollo, the ideal of Doric architecture,
the noblest, simplest and most natural of all the schools.
Unconscious of their artistic and archeological advantages, which
students travel four thousand miles to enjoy, the Grecian peasants
continue to plow the adjacent fields, and, the day that we rode
through, groups of women with tucked-up skirts were breaking the earth
with heavy hoes and heaping it around the roots of the currant bushes.
Fields of winter wheat were vivid with tender shoots of green, and a
fodder plant that resembles alfalfa was growing bravely on the other
side of formidable fences built with stones stolen from the ruins of
the old metropolis. Here and there is an old-fashioned threshing-floor,
almost as venerable as the pillars of the temple, a circle thirty or
forty feet in diameter, paved with smooth stones, upon which, after the
harvest, the grain is separated from the stalk by driving hoofed cattle
over it. In his Epistle to the Corinthians, Paul recalled to them that
pious injunction in Deuteronomy, “Thou shalt not muzzle the ox when
he treadeth out the corn,” but he might have appealed to them also in
behalf of the blindfolded donkeys that patiently follow the treadmills
to fill the irrigation reservoirs so that the plants may live when the
earth is dry.
Women were washing at the reservoirs and spreading the garments out
upon the grass and cobble-stones to dry, and little children were
amusing themselves with the same simple games that absorb the attention
of childhood in America.
Before reaching the site of the old city we passed a cross-roads where
a troop of young Corinthians was rushing out of an unpainted adobe
schoolhouse. Nearly all of them were clothed in tunics made of blue
and white checked gingham, the favorite pattern for aprons among New
England housewives. It was the noonday recess, and, notwithstanding
their traditional eagerness for intellectual culture, it is evident
that the schoolboys of Greece feel more amiable when coming away from
the schoolhouse than when they are following their noses in the other
direction. They were playing pranks upon one another, and we stopped
the carriage to see the result of an amateur wrestling match. In the
adjoining lot was a boy about twelve years old, clad in a similar
tunic, herding a drove of pigs. He looked as if he felt his humiliating
situation, and we silently extended our sympathy to him. I felt like
reminding the youngster, for his encouragement and consolation, that
one of the noblest and the greatest of the popes was a pig-driver when
he was a boy, and that that also was the occupation of Pizarro, the
_conquistador_ of Peru, before he entered the Spanish army.
Where this schoolhouse stands was once a suburb of Corinth, known as
Kraneion, which, about 2,300 years ago, was the abode of an old crank
named Diogenes; perhaps not the first, and I am certain not the last,
of the cynics. He was born and brought up in the town of Sinope, where
his father was a money-changer, and the old man, being deficient in
the moral perception and the cunning of some of the modern Greeks,
was detected in the adulteration of coin. He died in prison, and the
disgrace seems to have soured the life of his son, who wandered about
telling people what fools they were to waste their time in enjoyment;
and, to practice what he preached, he discarded all earthly possessions
except a cloak, a wallet in which he carried bread, and a wooden bowl.
He threw the last away some time after, when he saw a boy drinking out
of the hollow of his hand--at least that is the story as I remember it
from my college days, when for a time I knew Diogenes and other famous
Greeks quite intimately.
When Diogenes finally reached Corinth he found that prosperous and
luxurious city a fine field for a cynic to work in, and took lodgings
and office-room in a large jar that was made to hold wine but had been
thrown away as leaky and useless. He used to make fun of the rich and
vain Corinthians, and although he ate nothing but scraps that the cooks
threw at him, he lived to a very old age, and became so famous that
Alexander the Great came to visit him. After a memorable interview,
when the emperor arose to take his departure, with a gracious impulse
he told the old cynic that he would grant him any favor that he desired
to ask. Diogenes looked up with a twinkle in his eye, and requested him
to get out of his light.
Diogenes died from the bite of a dog, and his last request to the
neighbors was that they throw his body into the alley for the dogs
to eat; but they refused to do so, and gave him a noble funeral and
erected a monument in his honor, upon which was carved the figure of a
dog--the symbol of his life.
A little village of fifty or sixty houses, with a store or two, a
post-office and a café, occupies the site of the old city. Part of
the lands about have been purchased by the American Archeological
Institute. Its representatives from the American School of Classical
Studies at Athens have been engaged for several years in making
excavations, and have laid bare a considerable portion of old Corinth,
including the forum, the market-place, the temple of justice, three
fountains, baths hewn in the solid rock, and several dwellings and
buildings that were occupied for business purposes. The work is
being extended gradually as fast as the limited funds of the society
will allow, and the disclosures are of great classical interest and
importance to historians and students. It will be continued until all
the important ruins are disclosed. Near by, upon a convenient roadway,
a warehouse has been erected to preserve the statues, the inscriptions
and other small articles of interest that are found in the excavations.
[Illustration: RUINS OF ANCIENT CORINTH, GREECE
Excavated by the American School at Athens]
Unfortunately for us, the laws of Greece prohibit the exportation of
these relics. The government is very strict about such matters. No
excavations can be made without a permit from the authorities, who
designate an inspector to supervise them, and he keeps a careful watch
upon all that is done. Everything must go to the museum at Athens
unless the owner of the property is willing to erect a building for the
public exhibition of whatever he may find. In this way some of the old
cities and the little towns of Greece have secured local museums which
possess a certain advantage in enabling students to study archeology
upon the ground, but this scarcely offsets many disadvantages, for most
of them are difficult of access. The most important articles discovered
at Corinth have been sent by the American school to the National Museum
at Athens.
At a shop in the village a few fragments of indifferent value from
the excavations are for sale, and they are no doubt genuine. Bogus
antiquities are manufactured in large quantities, but most of them
are more expensive than the genuine. Although the Romans carried away
from Greece the choicest works of art to embellish their palaces and
temples, and vandals have been following their example ever since, the
earth is still full of marble, pottery and bronzes, which are being
uncovered daily. But most of the work is done by foreigners. The Greek
government is so poor that it can afford to do but little, and the
citizens have other uses for their money.
Near the excavations, in front of a low adobe hut, sat an aged man in
the native costume, smoking his pipe and rocking the cradle of a child.
He might have posed for a portrait of Diogenes.
In the center of the village is an enormous plane-tree, which shades
a triangular market-place. Several men were sipping coffee at little
tables and babbling children were playing around them who evidently
did not realize the historical sanctity of their surroundings.
Old Corinth has as much interest for religious people as for
archeologists and historians, for it is closely associated with the
missionary work of St. Paul. In the year 51, in company with Luke the
Evangelist, he visited Macedonia--where Miss Stone was captured by
brigands. At Philippi he was scourged, imprisoned and put into the
stocks. There was an earthquake while he was in prison and he converted
the jailer. Having frightened the officials by telling them that he
was a Roman, they permitted him to depart, and he sailed to Athens,
where he preached an eloquent sermon from Mars Hill. Then he came to
Corinth, lodged at the house of Gaius, and found Aquila and Priscilla,
and there Silas and Timotheus joined him. He lived at Corinth a year
and a half, and there wrote his first epistle to the Thessalonians,
which he sent by the hand of Timotheus. He was then brought before
Gallio, the proconsul, a brother of Seneca, the great philosopher, who
was prime minister for the Emperor Nero, at Rome, at that time. After
this he “tarried there yet a good while” before returning to Syria and
Jerusalem. Six years later he visited Corinth again, “and there abode
three months” at the house of Gaius, where he wrote his epistles to the
Romans and Galatians, after which he returned again to Jerusalem and
then made his fatal journey to Rome.
Timotheus was left in charge of the church at Corinth, and when
Paul sent him there he said: “Let no man despise him.” It would
be interesting to know the places in Corinth where Paul lived and
preached, and perhaps American shovels may yet discover some evidences
of his life there, although beyond his own testimony we know nothing
about it. The lintel of the Jewish synagogue has been found already by
the American excavations.
XVI MODERN ATHENS
Modern Athens is a city of marble. Many of the dwellings and business
houses and nearly all the public edifices are of that material, and
even the sidewalks on some of the streets are paved with it. Upon the
bosom of Mount Pentelikos are two great gashes which can be seen for
many miles. One of them is the quarry from which was hewn the marble
for the Parthenon, the Temple of Jupiter, the Temple of Theseus and
other famous structures of ancient Athens. The other wound was made in
modern times, and shows the source of the material of which the present
city of Athens was built. The authorities have protected the old quarry
for historical and archeological reasons, and nothing has been taken
from it for several centuries. The other quarry is just as good. The
stone is easily cut and removed, and, although the grain is not so fine
as the Parian marble from the quarries in southern Greece, it is equal
to that from the famous Carrara quarries of Italy, and costs much less.
I was wondering why some enterprising American did not build a railway
to the quarry from Piræus, the seaport of Athens, so as to export the
marble, for none is exported now. It need be only about eighteen miles
long, not counting the curves necessary to make the grade, and it could
be run on the gravity principle.
[Illustration: MODERN ATHENS Royal Palace]
The use of marble and white stucco gives modern Athens an appearance of
neatness and beauty which there is no soot to deface. The dust is
very bad, however, when the wind blows. The streets are unpaved and the
soil is a clay that moistens into mud or dries into dust very readily,
and a waiter always stands at the door of the hotel with a feather
duster to brush off your boots. One of the streets is named in honor
of Æolus, the god of the winds, but he does not confine his attentions
to that thoroughfare. In the old part of Athens is a well-preserved
octagonal structure of marble called the Tower of the Winds, and one
might suppose that it was the place where they originated, but the
name seems to have been given merely because it was surmounted by a
weather-vane. The tower was built about a hundred years before Christ
by Andronicus of Syria, so an inscription tells us, as a compliment to
the city of Athens, and was adorned with a sun-dial and a clock that
was run by water-power in some ingenious manner; but the exact plan of
its operation is not understood by modern mortals. An aqueduct supplied
a cistern and the cistern fed machinery too complicated for modern
horologists to comprehend.
The streets leading east from the Tower of the Winds enter a depression
in the side of a hill, inclosed by a wall which was formerly the site
of a school called the Diogeneion, supposed to have been founded by
Diogenes, the famous cynic in the third century before Christ.
The palace of the king is an ugly modern structure, of which a
nation with the taste of the Greeks ought to be ashamed. It looks
like a factory, but the other public buildings are so imposing and
appropriate, particularly a group of three--the university, the Academy
of Sciences and the library--that they more than offset the atrocity
in which the king resides. I doubt if there is a more beautiful
combination of buildings in all the world. The academy, designed
by a Vienna architect, is asserted to be the purest example of the
classic school that has arisen in modern times. The surroundings are
appropriate, and the entire street, called University Street, is worthy
of the artistic traditions of the Athenians, as well as the spirit of
modern enterprise.
A pretty park adjoins the palace grounds in the center of the city,
and several of the residence streets are lined with pepper-trees,
but there is no other shade in Athens--except the awnings stretched
across the sidewalks in the business section to shelter show-windows
and politicians who sit at little tables in front of the cafés. The
gleam of the white marble is painful to the eyes. The architecture
of most of the houses in the new quarter of the town is pure Greek;
simple, dignified and stately; a striking contrast to the picturesque
squalor and dilapidation of Constantinople and the ornate embellishment
of the Italian cities. Some critics complain that the architecture
of Athens is monotonous, but it is the monotony of pure and simple
taste, and none can deny the beauty of the residences. Most of them
are constructed upon modern plans, especially the interiors, to meet
the demand for conveniences, and I am sure that the private buildings
of Athens to-day are more comfortable and beautiful than in the days
of Pericles and Phidias. The mountain Pentelikos can furnish all the
marble that is necessary to meet the demands of the builders for
twenty-five more centuries.
In the old part of the city the streets are narrow, dirty, and the
odors rise to heaven. The modern Greek peasant is not a tidy person,
nor is his wife, and the street that passes his dwelling, the house in
which he lives and all his surroundings are repulsive to the eye, the
nostrils and the sense of propriety.
[Illustration: MODERN ATHENIANS]
There are three theaters in Athens, one of them a stately marble
building of classic design, at which original plays in Greek are
produced to encourage native literary genius. An opera company comes
over from Italy for two or three weeks every winter, but otherwise
there is very little music in Athens. Nor is there any modern art. The
museum is not attractive to ordinary visitors, but it is a fountain of
joy and never-ending bliss to archeologists, being filled with broken
statuary and pottery, old bronzes and tablets bearing inscriptions
that are half-effaced, leaving just enough to excite curiosity and
controversy among students.
The classic spirit still prevails in Greece. It even pervades the
common council of Athens, or whoever has the duty of naming the
streets, for they are nearly all called in honor of the ancient
gods, philosophers and poets of the golden age. The Boulevard of the
University and the Boulevard of the Academy are the broadest and
the finest avenues in the residence portion of the city, while the
principal business street is named in honor of Mercury. Other streets
are called after Solon, Æsculapius, Hippocrates, Aristotle, Thucydides,
Pericles, Sophocles, Menander, Venus, Pan, Hebe, Apollo, Jupiter,
Theseus, Philip, Constantine and most of the holy apostles. One of the
principal hotels is the Minerva, and it is the fashion to christen
shops in honor of the great men of the past. Classic names are also
usual in baptizing children. You frequently hear of Hermes, Alcibiades
and Homer, and the Athens city directory reads like the muster-roll of
the army of Agamemnon, which you will find in the early part of Homer.
Achilles, Ajax, Menelaus, Miltiades, Leonidas, Themistocles, and other
names equally familiar to students of Greek, are in daily use among the
people.
Greece is a true democracy. No other country in Europe, not even
Norway, is so subject to the will of the people, and the democratic
spirit is often shown in ways that are disagreeable. The feeling of
equality is general, and there is an undisguised jealousy against
one man rising above another. That is one of the great obstacles to
progress--a sort of dead-line which no man can cross without being made
the target of every selfish and dissatisfied citizen who construes the
superiority of his neighbor as a personal grievance and an offense
against the individual and the state. The king is a foreigner. Were
he not a foreigner he might not be king. Those who know the Greek
character best declare that it would be difficult, if not impossible,
for the Greeks to permit one of their own citizens to rule over them.
The king is democratic enough to suit their tastes. He mingles freely
with the people, and while he maintains beyond criticism the dignity
that becomes his position, he is nevertheless simple in his habits,
unostentatious in his exercise of power and loves nothing so well as
to be considered one of the Greeks. There have been no scandals or
intrigues at his court. The scepter has not been wielded to the injury
of any one. He treats everybody alike and perhaps goes a little too
far that way, because the exercise of more severe discipline might do
something to suppress crime. The king’s example is followed by his
sons, his ministers and the attachés of the court, and therefore is
imitated by the people. The children have inherited the spirit. The
common schools of Athens are attended by boys and girls of all grades
of society, the children of laborers sitting beside those of the
ministers of state, reading from the same books and engaging in the
same games.
Travelers in the country sometimes complain that the democratic spirit
is offensive; that the “common people” sometimes are too aggressive and
independent. I heard an English gentleman relate his experience with
the villagers of the interior, which was evidence that they considered
themselves quite as good as he, and he declared that such things
could never have occurred in England, or in the United States, for
that matter. A gentleman who has lived many years in Greece explained
that the peasants did not intend to be impertinent, but were simply
exercising what they believed to be their privileges, and demonstrating
that a practical democracy was in working order. There is no lack of
discipline among the servant class, but they assert their rights like
the servant-girls of New England.
Athenian society is divided into sets, as it is everywhere; first, the
court set, made up of the higher officials, members of the diplomatic
corps, officers of the army and navy, rich residents both foreign and
native who entertain extensively, and others who are honored with a
personal acquaintance with the royal family. This set is more or less
exclusive, and includes only a small fraction of those who are entitled
to invitations to court functions. The king’s balls and receptions
are very much like those at the White House in Washington, and people
with shabby clothes and muddy boots are often present, because their
political influence, if not their social position entitles them to
invitations. There are no orders of nobility in Greece. There is only
one order of knighthood--the Order of the Savior, which is conferred by
the king for distinguished services of any character. About one-half
of the honors go to the army and navy; the next in number are to those
who have distinguished themselves in the service of the state, either
as executives, legislators or members of the diplomatic corps, and
after them come the scientists, who esteem the ribbon very highly.
Some of the descendants of the ancient nobility try to retain their
titles, but are laughed at. Men whose ancestors played a conspicuous
part in patriotic movements are much more admired and envied, but
even they have to give way to learning, for scholars stand higher in
Greece to-day than any other class of the community, and learning is
considered of more value than great riches.
The education of women is gradually reaching a level with that of men.
There are still certain social restraints, due to tradition and the
influence of the neighboring countries of Europe, and the old-fashioned
method of contracting marriages between families still prevails;
but, speaking generally, the women of Greece are to-day quite as
independent, quite as influential and quite as well educated as any on
the continent, south of Sweden, and it is gratifying to know that the
queen herself has been one of the most active and influential agents in
bringing about the emancipation of her sex.
Athens has more than her share of newspapers, dailies, weeklies
and those of occasional publication, which are not intended for
news purposes, but to express the opinions of the different owners
or editors upon public affairs. Even these are not sufficient,
however, and the politicians and the editors visit the cafés every
evening, and often in the afternoon, in order to proclaim their
views to whomsoever it may concern. Coffee-houses have taken the
place of the ancient forums, and one of the largest in Athens is
called “Public Opinion Coffee-house.” Instead of referring to a man
as a demagogue or a pot-house politician, over here they call him a
coffee-house politician, and nowhere in the country is there such
an abundance of oratorical talent and public sentiment as in these
institutions. They are the resort of would-be leaders who cannot
afford to maintain newspapers and are reduced to the necessity of
communicating their thoughts by word of mouth. The newspapers contain
very little news--a few brief telegrams from London, Paris, Berlin,
Vienna and Constantinople, relating to the most important events of
the day; a report of the proceedings of parliament; a review of the
decisions of the courts; a few paragraphs of local news; personal
items concerning the royal family and prominent citizens; half a
column of market quotations, an installment of a continued story, and
a few miscellaneous items clipped from other European newspapers. The
remainder of the sheet is filled with editorials and communications
upon political topics, which are discussed with the greatest freedom,
for in Greece the liberty of the press is not abridged. Both editors
and correspondents seem to feel as much at liberty as in the United
States to criticise or condemn the policy of the government, the
extravagance of the officials, the inefficiency of the army, the
corruption of parliament, and even the personal habits of public men.
Visitors to Greece are always amazed at the criminal statistics,
particularly at the number of murders, and can scarcely believe them
to be accurate, because the number seems to be so much in excess of
that of any other country in Europe. Ordinary crimes--dishonesty and
the vices that prevail in other countries--are not general, but murders
occur almost daily, and the frequent attempts at murder and the number
of mysterious deaths are shocking in the stage of civilization to
which Greece has attained. In the province in which Athens is located
homicides average annually almost one to 1,000 of population. It is not
without significance that the province of Attica should be the scene
of many homicides, for it is the center of learning and education, the
seat of the government and the headquarters of the national police.
The causes lie mostly in politics. The government has forbidden the
carrying of concealed weapons, but the law is not enforced. A pouch or
sheath for a knife and a revolver is a part of the national costume,
and both are worn openly. You see them upon almost every Greek who
wears the old-fashioned garments of his race, and those who have
adopted the modern dress have hip pockets.
When two Greeks quarrel the first act is to draw their knives, and
unless they are separated instantly there is either a homicide or a
case for the hospital, and the hospitals of Athens, which are extensive
and up-to-date, are abundantly supplied with patients, especially
during periods of political excitement. If a man is killed in a
controversy it usually begins a feud which does not end until several
graves are filled, because the unwritten law requires a life for a
life, and the Greeks adhere to the vendetta as do the Corsicans and the
people of Sicily.
In the provinces of Arcadia, which is a synonym of peace and happiness,
and in Laconia, the southernmost section of the Grecian peninsula,
the vendetta is as strictly observed as it ever was in Corsica. One
murder is usually followed by half a dozen, and sometimes they continue
until families are extinct. If there are no sons to take revenge, the
duty passes to the nearest relative, and the code is understood by
children. Singularly enough the obligation to kill ceases when the
offending person leaves the province. The code prohibits attacks upon
enemies when they remove to another part of the country. The cause
of this extraordinary condition can be traced to the days of Turkish
domination, when murder and other crimes committed upon Christians were
allowed to remain unpunished. The Turkish officials took no notice of
injuries suffered by unbelievers and never attempted to punish the
perpetrators.
The indifference of the government down to the present day has
encouraged murder. Capital punishment is seldom inflicted, and the
verdict of a court is generally acquittal. Those who happen to be
convicted are soon pardoned through political influence.
Politics is the influential factor in this problem. When a man is
arrested for murder, his friends and family naturally use every effort
to secure his acquittal, and appeal to their representatives in the
chamber of deputies and other officials of the government who are
supposed to have a “pull” with the courts, and skill in convincing
juries. If the defendants are convicted and sent to prison their
confinement must be made as short and as easy as possible. Hence
members of the Greek parliament are kept quite as busy looking after
constituents who have committed homicides as the members of our
Congress are in getting an increase of pensions for old soldiers.
Persons who have served a term for murder bear no stigma. On the
contrary, as every man in Greece is likely to suffer a similar
experience sooner or later, the contrary is the case. The prisons are
generally dirty, uncomfortable and without ventilation or sanitary
appliances, but they are no worse in these respects than the homes
from which the prisoners come. No labor is required, and there is very
little discipline. Except in a few cases, where solitary confinement is
the penalty, the prisoners congregate in one room during the daytime,
and the social enjoyment is almost as great as if they were in their
village cafés instead. Friends are allowed to bring them delicacies
and bedding and to see them frequently. Thus a lazy man is sometimes
more comfortable and happy in prison than out, for in the latter case
he would be compelled to support himself. As long as he is in prison
for such a crime as homicide, public opinion requires his friends
and family to support him. Hence he can loaf, gossip, argue, smoke
cigarettes and drink coffee all day long, which is the Greek ideal of
happiness. If the laws could be amended so as to require the prisoners
to work and cut off their enjoyments entirely, no doubt it would go far
to diminish crime.
Somebody has said that what Greece wants is not men of culture, but
men of agriculture, and that is probably true. There are plenty of men
to till the limited area between the mountains and the rocky plateaus
if they would devote themselves to it, but it is the ambition of
every Greek youth to obtain a classical education and to engage in
one of the learned professions. No country in the world has so few
children in the primary schools in proportion to the young men and
women in the academies and universities. One class of the population
is under-educated and the other over-educated. Intellectual culture
therefore is not properly distributed. A compulsory education law
is not enforced because of the interference of the politicians, and
thousands of children of school age in the country districts who should
attend school are assisting their parents on the farms and in the homes
and adding a little to the family income.
There has been no census lately, but estimates based upon the young
men who come into the army place the illiterates at thirty per cent of
the population in the country and fifteen per cent in the towns. Those
who go to school, however, show remarkable eagerness for learning, and
when a boy has passed through the secondary schools nothing will stop
him from going to the university, where education is free. Then it is
necessary for him to select a professional career, because the labor of
the farm is too arduous and the society of the peasants is uncongenial.
The students in the University of Athens to-day number more than three
thousand, and the larger part of them come from the peasant class. As
a consequence, Greece is oversupplied with lawyers, doctors and other
professional young men, who are compelled to get a living the best way
they can, because there is no parental allowance to support them. Many
of them go in for politics and seek offices under the government. Many
go into the army, and more are engaged in humble clerical employment
and are living upon crusts until something turns up. There are said to
be more university graduates in Athens in proportion to the population
than in any other city in the world, and the number of unemployed is
very large. A few of them drift off into Turkey and other countries of
the Orient, where the opportunities are greater, but so many remain and
make a business of politics that they are the curse of Greece.
The traveler who comes to Greece from Italy or from Turkey or the
Oriental countries is always gratified at the absence of beggars. You
may live there for years and never see one, except a few cripples,
blind and decrepit old crones, who sit at the doors of the churches and
hold out their hands, pleading pitifully for alms. There are excellent
hospitals and asylums for all the ills and woes that humankind suffer,
and, although there are many poor and afflicted people and much misery
and degradation in Greece, the pride and independence of the people
will not permit them to beg, and the benevolent spirit of those who are
more prosperous makes good provision for them. Philanthropy is a Greek
word. In Greece children never run after strangers in the street and
beg for pennies as they do in other countries of southern Europe. If a
stranger stops on the sidewalk in Italy he is immediately surrounded
by a crowd of urchins, ragged, dirty and impudent, who follow him for
blocks with importunities. In Turkey and Egypt it is even worse. In
Greece travelers are never troubled in that way.
A long time ago a hermit made his home upon the top of the columns of
the temple of Jupiter at Athens, and lived there, exposed to the sun
and the wind and the storms, until compelled to come down. He had an
arrangement with a woman in the neighborhood to provide him with food,
and she used to appear every morning with a basket of supplies, which
he was accustomed to haul up to his eyrie with a clothes-line.
In the Odeum of Herodes Atticus, one of the loftiest and most
conspicuous of the ruins at the base of the Acropolis, which was
formerly a theater accommodating six thousand spectators, erected by
an Athenian millionaire in memory of his wife, Appia Annia Regilla,
a noble Roman lady, there is an enormous earthen wine-jar called a
_pithos_. For several years a half-witted man named Demetrius lived in
it, just as Diogenes lived in his jar. A kind woman in the neighborhood
furnished him food whenever he called for it, and in stormy weather he
covered the mouth of his curious dwelling with a curtain of canvas,
which gave him adequate shelter.
The parliament of Greece occupies a conspicuous building in the
center of the city of Athens, which is the scene of frequent exciting
episodes and heated debates. After observing the behavior of the
German, Austrian, Hungarian, French, Italian and Greek chambers of
deputies, I have deliberately reached the conclusion that the House
of Representatives at Washington is the most orderly, dignified and
statesmanlike legislative body elected by popular suffrage--not
excepting the House of Commons. This is a recent opinion, and is
contrary to what I have often written. From the reporter’s gallery of
the House of Representatives I have witnessed some very stormy scenes
during the last quarter of a century, but they have been incidental.
Confusion and boisterous behavior in the European parliaments are
chronic. The Greeks are so fond of debate that they ought to have
several legislative chambers instead of one, in order to give the
eloquent members of that body a chance to express their views; but,
failing to get a hearing in the house, they go to the nearest café
immediately after adjournment, where they are able to discourse to
their heart’s content without interruption.
Politics is the curse of Greece. The country is so small, its financial
and other interests are so limited, and its influence in the affairs
of nations so insignificant, that one would suppose the people would
devote themselves to the development of their material resources and
the encouragement of their industries instead of wasting their time
in useless discussions and quarrels. But I have always noticed that
the smaller the country the hotter the political contests. In Servia,
Bulgaria, and certain American republics, where the population is less
than in Greece, political agitation is even more bitter and a larger
number of people give their exclusive time to it.
I have been trying to discover the political issues in Greece, but
have given up in despair. They seem to be numerous, but are not well
defined. The local complications are too intricate to be untangled by
a stranger, and when you bore through into the pith of the thing you
find that the ambition to hold office is the ruling motive, as it is
almost everywhere else. There are few offices in Greece and many men
who desire to fill them. Hence the outs are opposed to the ins and
attempt to justify their demands for authority by proclaiming political
principles and promising administrative reforms.
King George is a wise, liberal and tactful ruler. He has a turbulent
population to deal with, but is discreet, judicious, generous, and
never mixes in political affairs. He always selects his ministers from
the party which has a majority in the parliament and is usually able
to handle them without difficulty. He holds the confidence of the
parliament and the people. Everybody trusts him as a safe man. The only
criticism I heard in Greece was that he is too merciful with violators
of the law, and perhaps it would be to the advantage of the country
if the criminal courts were more severe in their penalties and the
pardoning power were not so freely exercised.
The political riots in Athens in the spring of 1902 were due to an
unusual cause. Greek scholars are very jealous of the language and
are trying to restore ancient Greek to common use. Modern Greek is
not taught at the university, and whether it shall be taught in the
public schools is a political issue. The advocates of a return to the
classic tongue insist that the only way to restore it is to teach it
to the children in the primary schools. Their opponents argue that if
the children are taught nothing but ancient Greek they can not read
modern newspapers, magazines or books. Modern Greek is a corruption
of the ancient language, which has become debased by common usage,
as the modern Italian is a corruption of the ancient Latin. While
it is possible for the native of one province to understand another
in conversation, just as a man from New England can understand the
lingo of the Arizona miner, very few of the common people are able to
read the pure classic. Some of the literary men of the country and
many politicians are so democratic in their notions that they would
use nothing but the vulgar, modern Athenian dialect, and one man in
particular has made himself conspicuous in support of that proposition.
He has been bitterly denounced, however, by the university faculties
and the serious scholars of the country, and is held up to students as
an enemy of their language and their race. So he resides in England.
This controversy is hot and cold according as provocation occurs, and
volumes have been written upon one side and the other. During the
recent war with Turkey, Queen Olga, who is a noble woman, famous for
her good works, and a niece of the late Czar of Russia, found that the
sick and wounded soldiers in the hospitals she visited were not able to
read the Bibles she gave them, which were printed only in the classic
Greek. She was greatly grieved at this, and arranged with two eminent
members of the theological faculty to translate the gospels into the
modern Greek. They were hastily printed and circulated in large numbers
in the army at the queen’s expense. She paid the translators handsomely
for their work and bore all the cost of the enterprise from her private
purse. Before the war with Turkey had ended every soldier in the Greek
army had one of Queen Olga’s Testaments in his knapsack.
The excitement was so great in those days that the matter was
overlooked and nothing was said about it until last spring, when
somehow or other the students of the university provoked an agitation
and held a series of meetings at which inflammatory speeches were made
against the desecration of the Holy Scriptures and the words of the
Redeemer by translating them into modern Greek. As is often the case,
the police authorities used unwise measures to suppress the agitation,
which only made it worse, and it culminated in a mass-meeting called
at the ruins of the Temple of Jupiter, near the base of the Acropolis
and near the edge of the park which surrounds the palace. This is the
usual place for public demonstrations. Political meetings of all
kinds are held at the Olympieion, which Aristotle describes as a “work
of despotic grandeur.” The ruins are the favorite place of promenade
on summer evenings, and demagogues, fanatics and cranks take the
opportunity to declaim their views there as they do at Hyde Park in
London.
There were originally more than one hundred columns of Pentelic marble,
fifty-six feet high and five and a half feet in diameter, of the second
largest Greek temple known, being three hundred and fifty-three feet
in length and one hundred and thirty-four feet in width, dimensions
exceeded only by those of the Temple of Diana at Ephesus. Only sixteen
of the columns remain. Several of them are said to have been taken to
Rome by the emperors; more have been broken up for building-material,
and at least sixteen are now supporting the domes of mosques in
Constantinople.
The meeting called to discuss the queen’s translations of the gospels
was a very large one, many people attending purely out of curiosity.
It was managed by the students of the university, who, to emphasize
their objections, secured several copies of the book and burned them
over a slow fire in a dramatic manner. The police attempted to disperse
the crowd; stones were thrown, shots were fired, and an infuriated
populace showed its resentment against the authorities by driving the
policemen off the ground and using some of them very roughly. A general
alarm was given, soldiers were called out and for two days it was a
question whether the military or the mob would rule the city. The
number of killed and wounded was quite large. At least seven students
died in the streets or were fatally wounded, and their funerals were
made occasions for political demonstrations. The result has been to
strengthen the support of the classic language and to make the good
queen very unpopular. Before this incident she was beloved and admired
by everybody, and since no one except the demagogues has ever accused
her of more than indiscretion. She was evidently unaware of the
philological controversy, and the professors who made her translation
should have advised her of it. Her translation, however, was never
offered to the public; no copy was ever sold, and it was used simply
for the purpose intended. Her Majesty’s critics, however, made the most
of the fact that she is a foreigner and a Russian.
Queen Olga’s nobility of character, her pure life, her charitable works
and her spotless dignity as a queen, wife and mother will outlive the
criticisms upon her indiscretion, which would be soon forgotten if
the demagogues would drop the subject. She is a member of the Greek
Church, sincere and earnest in the performance of her religious duties,
and a strong believer in the miraculous power of an image of the Holy
Virgin which attracts many pilgrims to a little town in the southern
part of Greece. She is actively interested in charitable work also
and rarely fails to visit some hospital or asylum or other benevolent
institution. She walks upon the streets like the wife of any ordinary
citizen, is unassuming in her manners and democratic in her habits,
and if a stranger should meet her upon an errand of mercy or when she
is taking her constitutional he would never suspect her to be a queen.
The court of Greece is said to be the purest in all Europe, for Queen
Olga is even more critical than Queen Victoria used to be concerning
the character and reputation of those who are presented to her. There
are no adventurers, either men or women, about the palace at Athens.
She has brought up her boys under her own eye and according to her own
religion, and everybody agrees that they are young men of exemplary
character and habits, very different from the ordinary prince.
The king is a Protestant. He is a son of old King Christian of Denmark,
“the father-in-law of Europe;” a brother of Queen Alexandra of England,
and of Dagmar, the empress mother of Russia. When he accepted the
throne of Greece he agreed that his children should be brought up in
the religion of the country, but declined to change his own faith.
He does not try to proselyte the Greeks, however, but his Lutheran
chaplain holds services on Sunday very quietly in a little chapel
connected with the palace. Protestants connected with the court have an
opportunity to attend, but outsiders are never admitted.
The wife of the crown prince and the future queen of Greece, is the
Princess Sophia, a sister of the Kaiser of Germany. When the latter
consented to her marriage it was with the understanding that she
should not be required to renounce Protestantism, although it was
stipulated that her children were to be educated in the Greek faith.
Two years ago, however, she voluntarily left the Lutheran Church and
was baptized in the Greek communion. Her august brother was furious
and did not hesitate to censure his sister openly for renouncing the
religion of her fathers. Nor has he forgiven her. She has not been in
Germany since, and it is the general understanding that she has not
been invited. No Protestant missionary work is now done in Greece,
although there are several Protestant churches in different parts of
the country, and two in Athens.
Everyone who knows the facts testifies that the priests of the Greek
Church are useful, morally and spiritually, but there are altogether
too many of them. According to the census of 1889 there were over
eight thousand priests for a population of 2,187,208, and the number
has rapidly increased since that date, so that the ratio is even
larger. There are probably ten thousand priests and monks in Greece
to-day, while the membership of the Greek church is 2,138,609. A slight
calculation will show you that this is an average of about one priest
to every two hundred souls, so that the clerical profession, like all
others, is suffering from an oversupply, and the people are required
to support it. There are one hundred and seventy monasteries with over
nineteen hundred monks, and nine nunneries with two hundred and twenty
nuns. The head of the church is called the Metropolitan, who is elected
by the Holy Synod, composed of twenty-one archbishops and twenty-nine
bishops; and all these have to be supported by the taxpayers. Nominally
the church is under the care of the Patriarch of Constantinople,
but while his jurisdiction is never questioned in theory, he does
not attempt to exercise more than formal ecclesiastical authority.
The compensation of the clergy is insignificant. The Metropolitan
receives only $120 a month and the bishops only $50. In Athens the most
prominent of the parish clergy do not receive more than $500 a year,
while country parsons are obliged to subsist upon a mere pittance, many
of them being paid only in the produce of the farms of their parishes.
The monks belong to orders which own property, and are, therefore,
much better off. For these reasons the regular clergy in the country
are compelled to earn a living like their parishioners.
The priests in the Greek Church are allowed to marry. Most of them
have large families, and according to the customs of the country it
is the rule for the sons to follow in the profession of their father.
As they cannot marry a second wife under the canon law, they imitate
Dr. Primrose, and take good care of their first. It is the uniform
testimony of people familiar with the facts that the country parsons
of Greece as a rule are honorable, sincere and well-meaning men,
living lives of self-sacrifice and comforting those who are worse off
than themselves. The Greek priests wear their hair and beards long in
imitation of the Saviour. The ecclesiastical dress is a frock similar
to that of the Roman Catholic priests, which reaches to the heels,
and a black chimney-pot hat without a brim. Sometimes a veil is worn,
falling over the shoulders. They are generally men of fine appearance
and excellent manners. There are even more chapels than priests,
because every village must have a church or a chapel, and sometimes
villages are deserted. The inhabitants, for some reason or another,
remove to another location, but the chapel must stand. The peasants
naturally have a deep religious sentiment, mingled with superstition,
and, as in the days of St. Paul, worship unknown gods. They are strong
believers in the miraculous also, and consequently there are several
miracle-working images of the Holy Virgin and certain saints.
The patriotism of the Greeks is proverbial, and evidences of the
munificence of the prosperous children of this classic country are
on every side. I do not know of any other city or any other land of
similar population which shows so many public buildings and benevolent
institutions founded by private individuals. Most of the fortunes
have been made abroad. Greece is not a money-making country. The
opportunities for gaining wealth are limited. Agriculture is still in a
primitive condition; there is comparatively little manufacturing; the
mining resources are insignificant, and the commerce and mercantile
trade can never amount to much because of the meager population.
Therefore, Greeks who are ambitious for wealth go elsewhere. They are
a migrating race. There are Greek communities in every important city
of the world, and they use the same methods, practice the same economy
and show the same skill in trade as the Jews. It is a proverb that
one Greek is as good as two Jews in a bargain. They often begin in a
small way, peddling fruit, knickknacks and other trifles, but gradually
extend their commercial horizons until many of them become mercantile
princes. You find them in London, Paris, St. Petersburg, Vienna and
especially in Constantinople, where nearly one-third of the population
is Greek, and the richest residents belong to that race. Throughout
Syria, Egypt and along the coast of Africa the larger share of the
mercantile business is in the hands of Greeks. In the Black Sea country
they monopolize the grain trade, and throughout the East, from Italy to
Egypt and as far north as Budapest and Odessa they practically control
commercial affairs.
Greece has no naturalization treaties. Like Russia, the government
never releases its subjects from their obligations--once a Greek,
always a Greek. Any naturalized Greek citizen of the United States who
returns to his native country may be impressed into the army without
ceremony if he did not serve his term before he left the country. The
same rule applies to the Greek residents of England, France and all
other countries. Hence the chief business of the United States minister
at Athens is to help our naturalized Greeks out of trouble.
Many Greeks are found in South America also, and in the Transvaal and
other parts of South Africa. During the Boer War several Greeks had
important contracts for furnishing supplies to the British government
and made more money during the troubles than they did while the country
was at peace. In the Argentine Republic are several important Greek
families. In fact wherever they go they make money, and it is the
ambition of every Greek to return to Athens and live among his own
people. The long streets of fine mansions and other evidences of wealth
and luxury demonstrate that many have been able to do so.
There are many reasons for the working classes as well as the tradesmen
to emigrate. Wages are low, although laborers are scarce, and
particularly mechanics. The earnings of those who remain in the country
have not improved since the war with Turkey, but are lower than before
because wages are paid in a depreciated paper currency worth not more
than sixty per cent of its former value. The wages of ordinary laborers
run from twenty to fifty cents a day, and those of skilled mechanics
from fifty to eighty cents a day. The law which requires military
service of every citizen drives a good many young men from the country,
for it compels them to waste the best years of their life. There is no
reason why Greece should have an army. If she had none she would be
much better off. Her military history is not at all flattering, and
during the late war with Turkey it was clearly demonstrated that the
people had neither military skill nor courage. If the parliament would
abolish the army and navy, leaving just enough soldiers to preserve
the peace, and rest entirely upon the protection of the great Powers
of Europe, it would be a blessing to the people and relieve them from
an enormous burden of taxation. Many thousand able-bodied young men
would be released from a military servitude which not only keeps them
from the fields and factories, but unfits them for labor after their
term of duty has expired. It would also remove from the sons of the
upper classes a temptation which often proves fatal to success in life.
Opportunities are so few in Greece that educated young men must seek
employment under the government or obtain commissions in the army.
Under the present system of politics the former can only look forward
to an uncertain and an unprofitable career, while there is even less
to encourage the ambitious in the army. The number of officers is so
much in excess of the requirements that there is nothing for them to
do but to spend their time in the coffee-houses and in worse forms
of dissipation. The streets of Athens and other cities of Greece are
crowded with men in uniform, and if you will enter any café or stop at
one of the many groups of idlers in public places you may notice that
at least one-third and sometimes more than half of all those present
wear the uniform of officers of high rank. I have been told that there
is an officer for every three privates in the Greek army, and certainly
that proportion exists in Athens, although it may not be so large in
other parts of the country.
Most of the public institutions at Athens were founded and endowed
by the private means of Greeks who have made fortunes abroad. Others
have left large legacies directly to the government. That has occurred
several times in the United States, but not often in other countries.
Several men in their wills have left money to be applied toward
the payment of the Greek national debt. One man, not long ago, who
evidently feared that his money might be stolen, required his executors
to purchase a stated amount of government bonds and burn them in the
presence of a committee. Some years ago a man left two hotels to the
Greek government. They stand on the Place de la Concorde, and yield a
good rental, which goes into the public treasury.
One of the most notable acts of patriotism is told of a Greek barber
in the city of New York, who, dying, left his entire estate to the
University of Athens. He was not an educated man, but was proud of
the classic traditions of his country, and gave more than Carnegie or
Rockefeller to the cause of education. The amount was only $150, the
proceeds of the sale of the equipment of his barber shop, his razors,
and doubtless the bottles of hair-tonic that ornamented its shelves,
but it was all that he had.
Somebody should give something for repairing the streets and roads.
With the exception of the principal thoroughfares, they are very bad,
and often impassable.
The University of Athens was founded about 1835. It is conducted
on the German plan. Many of the professors are graduates of German
universities, and the German language is heard about the building
more frequently than any other except Greek. The institution has a
large amount of property, from which it draws a considerable revenue,
but several of the chairs have been handsomely endowed by private
individuals.
The National Library, which has one of the most beautiful modern
buildings in the world, is the legacy of the Vallianos brothers,
grain-merchants doing business at Odessa and the ports of the Black
Sea. A marble statue of one of them stands in front of the building.
The National Museum was given to the people by George Averof, a
cotton-merchant in Egypt, who also founded a military school and
established a model reformatory for children.
[Illustration: THE MUSEUM AT ATHENS]
The exposition building, called the Zappeion, intended for temporary
exhibitions of art and industry, is the gift of the Zappas brothers,
grain-merchants in Roumania.
The building of the Academy of Sciences, which is the most beautiful
modern structure in Europe, and the Royal Observatory were erected and
endowed by Baron Sina, a Greek banker in Vienna.
The Arsakion, a college for young women, was founded and richly endowed
by Mr. Arsakis, a Greek merchant in Vienna. The Varvakion, a manual
training-school and gymnasium for boys, was founded by Mr. Varvakes,
a raisin merchant. The Polytechnic Institute was the gift of Mr.
Metzorios, a merchant of Epirus. The Aretesian, a surgical institute,
was founded by Dr. Areteas, a poor boy, who became an eminent surgeon
and left 1,000,000 francs for the institution. Dr. Anagnostokes,
another eminent surgeon, founded a hospital for eye and ear diseases.
George and Mathos Rhizares founded a theological seminary. The late
Mr. Syngros, a banker, built an opera-house and gave it to the city;
he also founded a model prison for first offenders, a house for
impoverished women of rank, a home with a factory for light employment
for poor working women, and also a home for the aged of both sexes. The
Royal Theater was erected by a stock company, organized by King George,
who owns three-fourths of the stock, and was intended to encourage
native writers and actors.
Queen Olga built a prison for women. The Crown Princess Sophia built a
hospital for children and reorganized and reëquipped in German style
the military hospital. The ex-Queen Amalia of Bavaria founded a free
dispensary, and Haji Costa, a Greek merchant in Russia, founded the
orphan asylum.
The ancient Stadium, originally built three hundred and thirty years
before Christ by Lycurgus, the famous Athenian statesman, and one of
the noblest, ablest and most practical rulers of Greece, is now being
restored in pure white marble after the old style, by the generosity
of the late George Averof, who founded the National Museum. His motive
was the same as that of Lycurgus, to encourage physical culture among
the Greeks, who are very deficient in that important particular. This
was demonstrated at the Olympian games, which took place here in 1896.
Every event with one exception was captured by strangers. The one
exception was the long distance race, twenty-five miles, from the mound
at Marathon to the Stadium at Athens, which was won by a young Greek
shepherd named Spiridon Louis, and as a reward, in addition to the
prize, the government gave him a monopoly of the sale of water from the
springs of Marousi, the favorite drinking-water of the Greeks. This
spring is a popular resort on the side of the Pentelikos Mountain,
near Tatoi, the summer residence of the king. There is a large sale of
the water in Athens, and it is brought in fresh from the spring every
morning in sheepskins and in large earthen jars. Louis, the runner, is
doing a good business, and has increased the demand by representing
that its use gave him the strength and speed which won the Marathon
race.
The representatives of American colleges who appeared in the games of
1896 acquitted themselves with distinguished honor and carried off
their share of the prizes. One of the remarkable incidents was the
capture by Robert Garrett of Baltimore, then of Princeton University,
of the prize for discus-throwing, a classic Greek game. Mr. Garrett
had never seen a discus until his arrival in Athens, but outplayed the
Greeks in their own game on their own field.
The new Stadium will be a beautiful structure of marble, six hundred
and seventy feet long and one hundred and nine feet broad, with
sixty rows of seats of pure white marble, rising one upon the other
and accommodating thirty thousand spectators. It is an ideal place
for football and similar athletics, and when finished will surpass
every other field for sports in ancient or modern times. The cost
is comparatively small in Greece, because the extensive quarries of
Pentelikos yield their marble treasures for only the cost of cutting
and transportation, and no doubt Mr. Averof’s munificence will inspire
an ambition among his countrymen to develop their physical as well as
their intellectual qualities.
A shrine of history in which all lovers of liberty feel an interest is
the little town of Mesolongion, in the western part of the kingdom,
where, during the revolution against the Turks in 1823, Marco Bozzaris
gained immortality. He is buried under an insignificant monument near a
military hospital, and near by is a tomb containing the heart of Lord
Byron, who died there. His body was conveyed to England. A monument
was erected to Byron at Mesolongion in 1881, and a beautiful group in
marble, representing him protecting a beautiful female, symbolizing
Greece, from a ferocious barbarian, signifying Turkey, has recently
been placed in one of the parks of Athens.
The connection of Lord Byron with the emancipation of Greece was more
sentimental than otherwise. It is true that during the war for liberty
he offered his services to the Greek patriots and brought them several
thousand dollars of his own money, which was sadly needed by the
revolutionary leaders. He loaned £4,000 toward the equipment of a Greek
fleet, and assisted the patriots to borrow money in London, where he
did much to awaken sympathy for the gallant struggle they were making
against the Turks. He enlisted a company of adventurers and drilled
them at Mesolongion for several months, but they made endless trouble,
and he was finally compelled to pay them large sums of money and send
them away. It was a motley gang of desperadoes, composed of Englishmen,
Scotsmen, Irishmen, Americans, Swedes, Norwegians, Germans, Swiss,
Belgians, Russians, Poles, Austrians, Hungarians, Danes, Italians,
Frenchmen, Servians, Bulgarians and representatives of every other
race and nation who were attracted to him by popular rumors that he
had large sums of money to expend in the cause of Grecian liberty. But
his plans were impracticable. It was a case of poetic genius and not
military skill; but Byron died a hero. It redeemed his reputation,
however, and there is no doubt that during the few weeks preceding his
death he lived upon a sixpence a day, as his biographers claim, for he
had stripped himself of every farthing and had forfeited all claims
upon his friends in behalf of the Greek cause. His name will always be
cherished by the Greeks.
“The Maid of Athens,” to whom Byron addressed the charming love-song
with which we are all familiar, is said to have been Miss Theresa
Macri, daughter of the English vice-consul, with whom he fell
desperately in love while he was a guest of her father during his
first visit to Greece in 1809. He was just twenty-one years old and
was still unknown to fame, having published only his first volume of
poems. He lived with the family for several months and wanted to marry
the daughter, but her father seems to have been a sensible man and
refused his consent. Byron returned to England, married Miss Milbanke,
separated from her a few months later and left England forever. The
next year he met the Countess Guicciolo at Venice and lived with her,
without the formality of a marriage for seven years, until he went to
Greece, where her father Count Gamba, accompanied him and remained with
him until his death.
Some writers have asserted that ancient Greece had a population of at
least 10,000,000, and certain antiquarians have estimated that the city
of Athens, at the age of Pericles, had a population of 750,000. Now it
has 117,000. But the best authorities believe that neither Athens nor
Greece ever had a greater population than now. It is certainly true
that the number of inhabitants gradually diminished during the Turkish
tyranny until, at the outbreak of the revolution in 1821, there were
only 766,747 people in Greece. After the revolution the population
began to increase gradually until in 1890 it had passed two millions,
more than three times the number when the present government was
formed, notwithstanding the large emigration. The natural increase is
about 2.4 per cent per year, very nearly the same as that of the United
States. Seventy-eight per cent of the population live in the country
and twenty-two per cent in the towns. A good many of the so-called
towns are small villages of farmers. It is the custom in Greece for
the people to live in communities and go to their farms every morning.
This practice was necessary for mutual protection in the days of the
Turks. You see few detached farmhouses, and few country-seats, although
the number is rapidly increasing, now that brigandage is extinct. As a
rule, however, even now, travelers find the farmhouses in clusters, and
the farmers going out to their work every morning with a lunch of bread
and olives in their pockets.
Nearly all the land that is capable of raising crops is under
cultivation, but the methods are very primitive, and it does not
produce anything like the crops that ought to come from such soil. The
government has recently instituted a general movement for agricultural
education, and has established schools in all the provinces, at which
the science of farming is taught--only the rudiments at present,
because the Greeks are very conservative, and the wise men who are
at the head of this movement know better than to go too rapidly. The
farms average about ten acres in extent, the great majority of them
being less than two. They are cultivated entirely by hand, and with
home-made implements. The soil is plowed with a crooked stick, similar
to that used by the Egyptians in the days of Moses, and the grain is
thrashed with the hoofs of animals trampling upon it. Near by every
community can be seen a circular platform paved with stone, often with
a post in the center. When the harvest comes the grain will be spread
upon the surface, and three or four animals will be hitched to the post
and driven round and round until they have trampled the kernels out of
the husks. Greece does not grow enough food for her own consumption.
At least sixty per cent of the meat, vegetables and grain consumed
annually are imported, which is entirely unnecessary and a direct loss
to the people, because the transportation has to be paid for, and so
much more comes out of the pockets of the laboring classes.
On a few large estates the land is worked on shares, the peasants
taking two-thirds of the produce, and giving the other third in lieu of
the rental, the landlord sharing the losses, as well as the profits,
when they occur. Olive groves are often managed on this plan, and it is
generally satisfactory.
Although square miles of land are lying idle, it is a singular
fact that the fields in the neighborhood of Athens do not produce
enough vegetables to supply the local market. Nobody seems to know
exactly why, although there is a general disposition to attribute the
phenomenon to the natural characteristics of the people and to say
that the Greeks are poor gardeners. The king sets a good example. He
has an estate and country-house about fifteen miles from Athens, and
several thousand acres of land under a high state of cultivation. It is
a sort of experimental farm in more senses than one, at which he not
only shows what can be done, but how to do it, and the advantages of
intelligent farming. He has the best live stock in Greece, the most
improved machinery, the best breeds of cattle, horses, sheep, swine and
poultry, and he sells milk, vegetables and other farm-produce in the
local market, as Victoria of England used to do on the Isle of Wight.
This example has done some good. It has made farming respectable,
although the Greeks have not followed the fashion to any great extent.
In fact, I could not learn of any native of wealth or influence who
has imitated His Majesty and gone into the garden-truck business. In
another direction the king has done great good. He furnishes seeds to
all farmers who will apply for them, and applications are frequent.
He has also done a good deal to improve the breeds of live stock and
poultry, although the horses and cattle of Greece are comparatively
poor. The sheep are much better.
Dairy farming is limited. More goat’s milk is sold than cow’s milk.
The natives use comparatively little butter. The Greek butter must
be used promptly, because it has a coarse grain and will not keep.
It looks like “smear-kase” and tastes more like whipped cream than
anything else. Cow’s milk cannot be obtained outside of the large
cities, and even there it is scarce and expensive. Nearly all Greeks
use goat’s milk. Both goats and cows are driven into town every morning
and milked at the doors of the customers. This is not a new fashion,
but, like nearly all the customs of the people, can be traced back
through many centuries. The herdsman, shuffling through the streets
with milk-measure in his hand, behind a herd of seven or eight
solemn-looking goats, was probably as familiar to the ancients as he is
to the Athenians of to-day, and, viewed in all its aspects, it is an
excellent proposition, because all the customers along his route are
sure to get their milk fresh and pure, and the goat-herd’s honesty is
not tempted by the convenience of the pump. When he reaches the house
of a customer he milks one of the goats into his measure and pours the
contents into a bucket or the bowl that is brought for him. Some of the
milkmen come in with a pair of cans strapped over the back of a donkey.
As in South America, you can buy turkeys and geese “on the hoof.”
They are driven in from the country in flocks, so that customers may
make selections as they pass through the streets. Everything else is
peddled, not only food in the form of fruits, meats, cakes, bread,
vegetables, fish, butter and cheese, but all sorts of dry goods and
notions, shoes, stockings and even hats, tinware, hardware, stationery;
sometimes on a tray suspended from the neck of a man, sometimes on a
cart, but oftener upon the back of a donkey. You can frequently see
in the streets show-cases with glass fronts containing all kinds of
dry goods suspended from pack-saddles of donkeys and transported from
house to house, while the owner or attendant bellows an inventory of
his merchandise and describes its merits in a brazen voice. There are,
however, several fine shops in Athens. Those in the new quarter of the
city will compare with the best in our towns of the same size.
Other relics of ancient times are public cook-shops, found in the
oldest quarter of the city, similar to those of Naples, where a variety
of viands are prepared at the regular meal-hours and sold already
cooked at the most extraordinarily low prices. Housewives go there for
their supplies instead of to the market. It saves fuel and labor and
nothing is wasted. This custom is said to have come down from the
classic period before the Christian era, and then, as now, professional
cooks used to go about the town with stoves on wheels, filled with
bright fires of charcoal, over which persons who had no stoves or
ranges in their houses could cook their meats or vegetables for a small
fee. It is common to see a peripatetic cook standing in front of a
prosperous-looking residence, while the soft and genial atmosphere is
filled with the odor of frying fish or roasted rabbit.
Foreigners are always shocked at the sight of a Greek funeral. It is
a spectacle which most people desire to avoid, because the body of
the dead is exposed in an open hearse. The coffin is shallow, so that
not only the face and head but the hands and much of the body can be
distinctly seen from the sidewalk as the procession passes through the
streets. The lid of the coffin, richly upholstered and often decorated
with garlands and wreaths, is carried on the hearse by the undertaker.
The priest, the relatives and other mourners follow, and as the ghastly
spectacle passes it is customary for bystanders to remove their hats
and cross themselves. Men sitting around the cafés always rise out
of respect for the dead and stand bareheaded until the procession
has passed. In case of an officer of the army, a horse with an empty
saddle, heavily draped with crape, is led by an orderly in advance of
the hearse.
When the body is lowered to the grave the coffin-lid is placed upon it,
but does not close down, and the earth is allowed to come in direct
contact, to hasten decay. The superstition in the popular mind is that
the soul of the departed is in a state of suspense until the temple it
formerly inhabited has turned to dust. Graves are rented in the Athens
cemeteries for terms of years, just like the habitations of the living.
None but the rich own burial lots. It is an evidence of wealth and
aristocracy. The poor never think of buying a lot or a tomb. It would
be considered an unnecessary luxury. At the end of the term for which a
grave is rented the bones are dug up, put into a bag, labeled with the
name and dates, and deposited in a general receptacle.
The custom of carrying the body to the grave in the full sight of
the people is said to have originated during the Turkish occupation
of Greece. The country was in a state of chronic revolution.
The importation of arms and ammunition was forbidden, and the
revolutionists were in the habit of importing them in coffins.
Frequently people who were “wanted” by the police were assisted to
escape in a similar manner, and revolutionary leaders who had been
banished were brought back in coffins. Therefore, as a precaution, the
Turks required that dead bodies should be exposed.
XVII SHRINES AND TEMPLES
The Acropolis of Athens is the most famous hill in the universe. The
columns of the Parthenon are familiar to all the world. They are the
remains of the most majestic monument ever erected by human hands, and
did it ever occur to you that it was intended for the honor and the
worship of a woman? The lord mayor of an Irish city, in accepting the
honor of an election, declared that if it had not been for his mother
he would not have stood before his constituents that day. We might all
pay a similar tribute to Eve, yet no monument has ever been erected
to her memory, and the place of her burial has been forgotten, if
anybody ever knew where it was. Three graves of Adam are pointed out to
tourists in the East, but not even one of Eve.
We estimate the Greeks of the age of Pericles as having reached the
highest degree of development in intellect, philosophy and wisdom.
We teach our children their precepts. Our students of medicine,
art, science and theology must study them in preparation for their
life-work. It is a popular belief that the summit of human culture
was reached at the period of the building of the Parthenon. Yet the
ancient Greeks believed that the source of their learning, wisdom and
strength was a woman, and to her they raised that matchless tribute,
the admiration of all ages, the most perfect example of architecture
ever conceived, and in it they not only worshiped a woman, Athena, but
made sacrifices to one whom they had deified. Its ruined columns stand
to-day as a testimonial to womanhood. An old friend used to say that
the best rule he ever found in life was, “When in doubt, do as your
wife tells you,” and for his authority he might have referred to the
ancient Greeks.
The Acropolis is a mighty rock which rises five hundred feet in
what was the center of ancient Athens, when that city had 200,000
population. On all sides but one the walls are perpendicular. Toward
the west there is a slope by which the summit is reached by a winding
roadway. In ancient times there was a series of stairways, and the
Propylaea, or gateway, was as remarkable as the temples at the top.
There was also a road for chariots, and we can see the ruts made by the
wheels in the pavements. The Acropolis is visible from a long distance.
It looms up in majesty as the city is approached from all directions,
and the columns of the Parthenon are dwarfed by its height. The first
effect, therefore, upon strangers is disappointing. The ruins are not
as grand as they expected, and they feel a little sorry that they came,
but familiarity breeds respect in this instance. The columns grow
larger and grander and more beautiful every time you look at them, and
those who have had the privilege of visiting the Acropolis by moonlight
will retain an impression that cannot be effaced from their memory by
anything else that may remain for their enjoyment. Age and the salt
air from the sea have given the marble a rusty color, which detracts
from its purity, but gives it a tone of richness and ripeness entirely
appropriate to a ruin. You would not like to see a ruin of pure white
marble. It would look incongruous, although you can imagine how
beautiful the Parthenon and the surrounding buildings must have been
when they were fresh and new.
The temple to Athena (Minerva) and the surrounding buildings were
destroyed when the Venetians bombarded Athens to drive out the
Turks. The latter, who held the city, intrenched themselves on the
Acropolis and concealed their store of powder in the Parthenon. The
Acropolis, therefore, became the target for the Venetian artillerymen,
and on Friday, September 26, 1687, a German lieutenant fired a bomb
which fell into the magazine and was followed by an explosion which
destroyed forever the most glorious architectural triumph of men. Three
hundred Turkish soldiers lost their lives in the explosion and their
commander, having no ammunition, was compelled to surrender three
days later. No attempt was ever made to restore the building. On the
contrary, the Acropolis has been plundered century after century for
building-material, and for works of art. Some of the finest of the
marbles were burned to make lime for the masonry in building modern
Athens, and Lord Elgin, the British minister to Greece, in the earlier
part of the last century, removed the most beautiful and valuable of
the sculptures, which are now exhibited in the British Museum, under
the name of “The Elgin Marbles.” Within late years much care has been
taken in protecting and preserving the treasures that remain, and the
Grecian government is exceedingly anxious to recover the works of art
which have been taken from the Acropolis to foreign lands. On several
occasions during the last half-century overtures have been made to the
British government to restore the Elgin marbles, but they have met
with no favorable response. Mr. Gladstone gave the Ionian Islands
back to Greece when he was prime minister and received the gratitude
of a nation. The Athenians would be equally grateful if King Edward
would return to them the sculptures which once decorated the temple
of Minerva, and were taken away with the authority of the Turkish
government, and not with the consent of Greece.
It is difficult to avoid moralizing about the Acropolis. I do not know
of any other place on earth, unless it be Bethlehem, Jerusalem, or St.
Peter’s at Rome, or Westminster Abbey in London, which furnishes such
food for thought. The columns of the Parthenon are older than anything
in Rome except the obelisk in the center of the Piazza del Popolo, and
older than anything in London except a similar obelisk that stands on
the Thames embankment. Both of those were transplanted from the soil
in which the Pharaohs originally erected them, to show how Christian
nations sometimes despoil the heathen. It is an old trick. Rome is
filled with objects of art of which her emperors robbed the Athenians.
The Parthenon has had a varied experience. It was first a temple to the
Goddess of Wisdom; for several hundred years it was a church for the
worship of a Jewish peasant; and at the time of its destruction it had
been for centuries a mosque dedicated to a camel-driver.
The most important incident that has occurred upon the Acropolis in
recent times, and it has a personal interest for us, was the discovery
in 1900 by Mr. Eugene P. Andrews of Oswego, New York, then a student
at the American School of Classical Studies and now an instructor at
Cornell University, of an inscription to Nero upon the architrave of
the Parthenon, which had been unknown for a dozen centuries. It was a
great achievement, one of the most notable events in modern archeology.
He thought that certain small holes in the marble must have served
some useful purpose, and so he let himself down from the top by a rope
ladder similar to those that sailors use, and discovered that they had
once been occupied by nails which supported brass letters. By taking a
series of impressions with damp wrapping-paper, he secured a diagram,
from which he was able to trace the Greek letters, and the inscription,
which had never been suspected, was announced to the scholars of the
world by Professor Richardson, the director of the American school.
The American Archeological Institute has a school in Athens similar
to that in Rome, which was founded several years later. The object is
to furnish American scholars an opportunity to study art, archeology,
ancient history, literature and the classic languages upon the ground
and in the atmosphere in which they were developed.
He who would the poet understand
Most read him in the poet’s land.
I may not have the quotation exact, but that is the idea. In addition
to the branches of study I have named, the students hear lectures on
Greek law, religion, philosophy and upon all subjects dealing with
the institutions, the social life and the industrial activity of the
ancients. They are conducted about the country to various points of
historic and archeological interest, such as Thebes, Delphi, Olympia,
Mycenae, Sparta and Thessaly, and are allowed to tread in the footsteps
of the old philosophers. They hear lectures in the museums, which are
illustrated by object-lessons. The museums of Athens are particularly
rich in relics of the archaic period of Greece--before the Persian war,
480 B.C.--and the director gives that branch his special attention.
Other members of the faculty lecture on history, poetry, politics and
kindred subjects. The students also have the advantage of similar
institutions founded by the English, French, German and Austrian
governments. All the national schools of archeology are affiliated,
and each has its special line of investigation, selected after a
consultation, in order that they may not interfere with or duplicate
the work of each other. The American school is the strongest of all,
the French next, then the German, and last the English. The German
school, however, is particularly fortunate in having for its director
Dr. Doerpfeld, who succeeded Dr. Schliemann in the archeological work
at Troy. The students of one school are admitted to the lectures of
the others and also have the use of their libraries. Most of them are
fitting themselves for instructors in Greek and archeology, and nearly
all of the graduates since the school was founded in 1882 now occupy
chairs in the faculties of American colleges and universities.
The present director is Professor Richardson, who was graduated
from Yale in the class of ’69, and was for a long time professor of
Greek language and literature at Dartmouth College. He has been at
Athens since 1893. Each year an assistant is selected from one of the
contributing colleges. Professor Thomas Day Seymour, of Yale, was
chairman of the Managing Committee of the school for fourteen years,
but recently has been succeeded by Professor Wheeler, of Columbia.
Part of its income is precarious, consisting of contributions from
various colleges and private individuals, and if they should withdraw
it would leave the institution without funds. There ought to be a
larger endowment, so as to secure permanency. At present the endowment
amounts to about $65,000. The society owns a fine building, well
adapted to its purposes, and a considerable area of ground which may
be found available in the future. Among the most generous donors for
excavations is Colonel Hay, secretary of state, who has recently
placed a considerable sum of money in the hands of the trustees, to be
used as a foundation for the library in memory of his son, the late
Adelbert Stone Hay. There is no limit to the number of students. Anyone
is received who has had a thorough classical training at an American
college. It is important that applicants should gain as great command
as possible of the German, French and modern Greek languages before
entering the school in order that they may enjoy the full benefit of
their opportunities. The tuition fee is nominal, and the cost of living
at Athens is anything that one may choose to make it. At the large
hotels board and lodging can be obtained for $14 a week and upward,
and at the smaller hotels and in private families, from $5 and upward.
Six fellowships with stipends of $600 each, and one with a stipend of
$1,000, will be awarded annually, upon competitive examination, to
bachelors of art of the universities and colleges of the United States,
and may be extended for two years, upon the recommendation of the
faculty, to students in the Schools of Classical Studies at Athens and
in Rome, and in the School of Oriental Study in Palestine--all under
the general care of the Archeological Institute of America.
The fellows are required to pursue original investigations and twice a
year to report the results.
Everyone can appreciate the advantages offered by the American school
to those who are seeking a career as scholars or instructors. It
gives a vitality to their learning which they cannot get in books,
and the same books read in Greece are much more luminous than in the
class-rooms at home. The original work done by the students is also
of great importance to them, and it is gratifying to know that this
institution has taken the lead and is recognized as the most important
among the several national colleges at Athens. The Greek government is
liberal in its encouragement and the king feels a deep interest in all
its concerns.
Original work has been going on since 1886, and the results of the
excavations may be seen in the National Museum, at the Argive Heraeum,
at Athens, and in a volume recently published by Professor Waldstein,
now lecturer at King’s College, Cambridge, who was the director for
some years. Some of the most interesting of the explorations have been
at Icaria, the first seat of the worship of Bacchus, and the home of
Thespis, the inventor of the theater. He was the first man to present
a play to the public. There had been recitations and declamations upon
the platform before his time, but he introduced dialogues and plots,
and invented the mask so that one man-actor could take two parts. Women
never appeared on the stage in those days. The feminine parts were
always taken by men. The director of the American school discovered
the original home of Thespis and it was excavated under his direction.
The Americans were not allowed, however, to take anything away. Under
the laws of Greece the finder is protected in publishing reports of
his discoveries, and may receive the honor and the credit, but the
tangible results are the property of the government or of the owner of
the land, who, however, to retain them, must erect a museum upon the
ground for their public exhibition.
The American School has done a good deal of work at Plataea, the scene
of a great battle between the Greeks and the Persians in 479 B.C., but
found little of value. The excavations were more successful at Eretria,
at one time an important city, which was destroyed by the Persians
before the battle of Marathon. Here they uncovered a theater, a temple
to Bacchus, a fine lot of baths, and the most perfect gymnasium that
has ever been found.
Near Argos the American School, under Dr. Waldstein, discovered
and excavated the ruins of a magnificent temple of Hera, which was
destroyed in the year 423 B.C., when one of the priestesses went to
sleep without blowing out her candle; the decorations caught fire and
the temple was burned. This was a rich find, for, in addition to the
temple, they uncovered several other buildings of interest, and brought
to the National Museum at Athens a number of valuable statues and a
large quantity of bronze and terra-cotta work.
The excavations of the American students at Corinth I have referred to
in a previous chapter. They began work there in 1896, and will continue
in a systematic manner until the old city is entirely uncovered and
opened to the public, as Pompeii is to-day. Old Corinth was a very
populous city, larger than Athens, and, at the height of its glory in
325 B.C., had a population of nearly 200,000, with many magnificent
structures, which suffered from earthquakes, and were plundered and
destroyed by the Romans and other invaders. Julius Caesar rebuilt a
portion of the old city, but it was again destroyed by his successors,
and finally disappeared and was covered from the sight of men by the
drifting sands. The American School has purchased part of the site,
and, with the encouragement of the Greek government, is working as
rapidly as its funds will permit; but is entirely dependent, as I have
said, upon the generosity of private supporters. The German Institute
receives $5,000 a year from its government for excavations; the French
have an even larger allowance, and the English are spending large
sums. The American explorers alone lack funds, yet from them the most
important results are expected.
Mars Hill, from which Paul delivered the eloquent address of which
we have an account in Chapter xvii of the Acts of the Apostles,
beginning, “Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are very
religious”--not “too superstitious,” as the old version has it--stands
across a little gully from the Acropolis at Athens. It was then
occupied by the Athenian courts, called the Areopagus, and the learned
men, lawyers, philosophers, teachers and orators of the city met there
every day to exchange ideas and talk politics. The ancient court of
the Areopagus, composed of the most venerable and eminent Athenians,
and exercising supreme jurisdiction in certain cases involving life,
sat there regularly to hear arguments and announce their decisions.
The hill is said to have derived its name from the fact that Ares, or
Mars, was the first person tried there for murder. It was there also
that Orestes was arraigned and acquitted of criminal responsibility for
the murder of his mother, Clytemnestra. Many other famous trials took
place upon the hill. Lawyers were never allowed to appear before an
Athenian court, still less the Areopagus. Every man had to plead his
own case.
[Illustration: MARS HILL, ATHENS]
St. Paul appeared upon the Areopagus five hundred and twenty years
after the birth of Socrates and three hundred and seventy years after
the death of Demosthenes, but Greece was still filled with learned men.
Upon its stage the masterpieces of Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides and
Aristophanes were first presented to the public.
Phaleron, the summer-resort of the Athenians upon the bay, where there
are several hotels and bathing establishments and a little villa for
the pleasure of the royal family, is the place where Demosthenes used
to go to practice speaking. It was there, according to the legend, that
he picked up pebbles and put them under his tongue to prevent him from
stammering.
Near by are two tombs hewn in the living rock, accessible at low tide
but often submerged by the sea. One of them is popularly believed to be
the tomb of Themistocles, one of the greatest men of ancient Greece,
who persuaded his fellow citizens to devote the proceeds of the silver
mine of Laurion to the construction of a naval fleet, which made Athens
for a time preëminent upon the sea. But this fleet did not last very
long, and Athens absolutely had her ships taken from her at the close
of the fifth century B.C.
Across the bay is the island of Salamis, the scene of one of the
most famous sea battles in all history, when Xerxes, King of Persia,
witnessed the destruction of his fleet of one thousand vessels from
a rocky promontory which projects into the bay. The point is called
“the throne of Xerxes.” The poet Aeschylus was on one of the ships and
distinguished himself in the battle. Eight years later, in March, 472,
his tragedy, based upon it, was performed in the theater of Dionysus at
Athens.
Socrates was born in Athens in the year 469 B.C. He was originally a
sculptor, but abandoned art and became an astrologer. He afterwards
taught in the market-place, surrounded by his students and disciples,
and it was to them that he delivered the opinions which brought him
into collision with the authorities, and particularly the priests. The
trial of Socrates was similar to that of Christ. Both were accused
of sedition, of denying the gods, of introducing a new religion, of
corrupting the minds of the youth and disturbing the tranquillity of
the people. Socrates was arraigned for this crime before the courts,
as Christ was before the Sanhedrin. Both admitted the truth of the
charge, while they denied the criminality. The answer of Socrates to
his accusers was almost the same as that of Jesus before Pilate, four
hundred years later. He was convicted, however, and condemned to die.
Owing to a superstition about putting men to death during a festival,
the execution of his sentence was postponed, and in the meantime he
drank his cup of hemlock juice. Near the Areopagus are two chambers
about sixteen feet square, hewn in the side of a rocky cliff. They are
divided by a partition with a narrow door and are protected by gratings
of iron bars, like the cage of a wild beast. The guide-book calls them
“the prison of Socrates,” and it is generally understood among the
people that he was imprisoned and died there, but there is no evidence
to sustain such a supposition.
[Illustration: TEMPLE OF THESEUS, ATHENS]
Demosthenes had a country home on the other side of Mount Hymettus,
which is as famous for its honey to-day as it was two thousand years
ago. The wild flowers that grow in the soil of that mountain contain an
unusual amount of saccharine and give a flavor to the honey which is
not found in that made elsewhere. The ancient Greeks considered it a
great luxury, and it still sustains its reputation and is sold to-day
in all the markets of Europe for high prices. Tourists buy it at the
hotels and curiosity-shops of Athens.
Demosthenes was the son of a rich furniture-dealer, and was a
statesman, lawyer, orator and patriot. He lived nearly a century after
Socrates, and in the year 322 B.C., when the Macedonians secured
control of the government, fled from Athens across the sea into the
Peloponnesus. There he was followed by an officer of the police with a
warrant for his arrest. Demosthenes was prepared for him and received
him in the temple of Poseidon in Calauria. Rather than suffer the
humiliation of trial and imprisonment, he decided to take his own
life. Suspecting such an intention, the authorities ordered the police
officials to take precautions to prevent suicide, and they watched him
very closely. After the arrest was made Demosthenes asked the officers
to allow him to write a note to his family, and sat down at his desk to
do so. It was noticed that he frequently moistened the tip of his pen
with his lips, and when the note was finished he fell lifeless from his
seat. The ink had been poisoned.
The field of Marathon, where the great battle with the Persians was
fought in 490 B.C., about twenty-five miles from Athens, is marked by a
great mound, under which the bones of the slain were buried.
Tanagra, where, in 455 B.C., the Athenians first measured strength and
valor with the Spartans, is a little further north and has been one
of the most prolific sources of satisfaction to archeologists. From
the graves around it have come those charming figurines in painted
terra-cotta that are so highly prized by collectors. The quantity of
figures discovered there during the excavations has been so great
that fine examples are now to be found in nearly every museum, and
tourists can purchase for a small sum imitations largely made up of the
fragments, which are quite as pretty as the genuine.
West from Tanagra is Thebes, a famous old town founded by Cadmus, the
home of Pindar, the poet, and Epaminondas, the soldier and statesman.
It was the rival of Athens until Alexander the Great sacked it in 336
B.C., when six thousand of the citizens were slain and thirty thousand
carried away as slaves. It is now a sleepy little town of about
twenty-five hundred inhabitants who grow fruit and do other kinds of
farming. The ruins of the ancient town are covered with rubbish and the
topography has been considerably changed by earthquakes. There is no
hotel, and very little to interest the traveler.
From Thebes one can go west to Delphi, the seat of the famous oracle
and the headquarters of the cult of Apollo, but it is a difficult and
uncomfortable journey, requiring several days on horseback. The easier
route is from Corinth by boat, twice a week, to a little town called
Itea. From there to Delphi is only a ride of two and a half hours. The
grandeur of the scenery and the magnificent view of Parnassus are full
compensation for the time and fatigue, and even in these modern times
the gorges in the mountains are filled with a mysterious atmosphere
which must have affected the imagination of the ancients. The oracle
was consulted, you remember, upon all affairs of importance, both
by the people and the state, and its influence was not diminished by
the ambiguity of its utterances. The voice of the oracle came from a
chasm in the rocks which can not be identified these days, probably
because of earthquakes. Above the chasm the prophetic virgin sat upon
a golden tripod and uttered responses which none but the priests could
understand. Altogether the oracle was a good scheme and its influence
was wholesome among the people. Solon, the great law-giver; Plato, the
philosopher; Aeschylus, Pindar, and Sophocles all spoke of it with
great respect.
Modern Delphi is called Castri, and stands on part of the ancient site,
at an altitude of twenty-one hundred and thirty feet above the gulf of
Corinth and among the cliffs of Parnassus. There has been an enormous
amount of excavating done there by the French School of Archeology
which has been rewarded by many interesting and important discoveries.
The classic mountain Parnassus, which rises eight thousand and seventy
feet, may be comfortably climbed from Delphi, the ascent being made
most of the way on horseback. Every foot of the journey is crowded with
historic and mythical associations.
The pass of Thermopylae, known to every schoolboy as the place where
Leonidas and his three hundred Spartans held the whole Persian army at
bay, is thirty miles in a straight line directly north from Delphi, on
the other side of Parnassus, but nearly three times that distance by
the circuitous route which must be traveled. There are no roads and
it takes several days to make the journey on horseback. The pass is
a narrow ravine or defile between two wooded hills and its strategic
advantages are perfectly apparent, although the guide-books say that
a rocky eminence which formerly overhung the defile has been thrown
down by earthquakes and the gorge has been considerably filled up
by alluvial deposits brought down by mountain torrents, so that the
present appearance of the pass gives very little idea of what it
must have been. It resembles hundreds of similar gorges in Colorado
and other parts of the Rocky Mountains. Here Leonidas detained the
Persian army under Xerxes until the Greeks were able to make a safe
retreat. The exact spot was afterwards marked by a monument with this
inscription:
STRANGER, TELL THE SPARTANS THAT WE ARE
LYING HERE IN OBEDIENCE TO
THEIR COMMANDS.
Due north from Thermopylae is the famous Mount Olympus, 9,754 feet
high, the home of the gods, which, unfortunately, is now on Turkish
soil, much to the sorrow and mortification of the Greeks. If they had
their territorial rights they would still include that noble peak
within their jurisdiction.
Mount Ossa, 6,398 feet high, lies immediately south of Olympus; Mount
Pelion is farther to the south, rising 5,308 feet above the sea.
Going westward from Athens, crossing the peninsula by railroad to
Corinth, and then turning southward for fifteen or sixteen miles,
we come to Mycenae, which was the scene of so much activity in
mythological times, but its importance dwindled long before the dawn
of history. It was founded by Perseus, who raised the massive walls of
the city with the aid of the Cyclops. Agamemnon, the great soldier, had
his seat there, and was not only the ruler of that district but the
chieftain of all the Greeks, of the islands as well as the mainland. He
led them against Troy and after his return was murdered by Aegisthos,
the lover of his wife, Clytemnestra. Although Orestes, his only son,
avenged his father’s death and his mother’s shame, when he grew up, the
legends do not tell us that he regained the throne.
The tomb of the great Grecian chieftain is well preserved and is one
of the most striking examples of ancient masonry. It is a sort of
underground temple in the shape of a bee-hive, fifty feet high, and
near it is another vaulted sepulcher, supposed to have been the tomb
of Clytemnestra. Extensive excavations have been made at Mycenae by
Grecian archeologists under the direction of Dr. Schliemann, who
disclosed to the world the ruins of Troy. It is one of the most
interesting places in Greece.
Near the western boundary of Peloponnesus is Olympia, the scene of the
celebrated games, which may be reached by railway from Patras, the
western port of the Gulf of Corinth, more easily than from Athens.
It was never properly a town, but was a group of temples, shrines,
palaces, amphitheaters and public buildings where the entire Hellenic
world used to assemble periodically, for more than a thousand years,
and engage in semi-sacred games founded by Hercules in the mythical
ages. The Olympic games reached their greatest importance immediately
after the Persian wars, when they were partially divested of their
religious character and became a national festival in honor of Hellenic
unity. Competitors came from all the states, the islands and the
colonies of greater Greece; the functions lasted for five days, and a
list of the victors was kept in the archives of the state. The record
begins B.C. 776 and is continued for several centuries after the Roman
occupation. The winners enjoyed life-long distinction, were entertained
annually at banquets and festivals at the public expense, and were
exempt from taxation.
During the Roman period Tiberius and Nero themselves engaged in the
games, but about the third century after Christ athletic sports were
degraded by the entrance of professionals, and became a trade. The
Olympic games were finally suppressed by the Roman Emperor Theodosius
in the year 394.
Extensive excavations have been made at Olympia by the Germans, who
have spent several hundred thousand dollars uncovering the ruins of
temples, palaces and amphitheaters which were buried from fifteen to
twenty feet deep under deposits of sand and gravel, washed down by
cloud-bursts and floods from the mountains, which also undermined
the walls of the Hippodrome, the Stadium and other of the ancient
structures. The interest in the excavations at one time was as great as
that excited at Pompeii, but very little of artistic interest was found.
Still south of Olympia, near the extreme end of the peninsula, is
the old town of Sparta, which is still the capital of the province
of Laconia, and a place of considerable importance. The remains of
ancient Sparta, however, are scanty and insignificant and, although the
modern town is beautifully located, it is said to be very unhealthy.
There is a museum there containing a large collection of antiquities,
and several of great importance. The guides show you an open plain,
surrounded with ditches, where the youthful Spartans used to wage their
mimic warfare. They show you also a rectangular enclosure of massive
stones which they claim to be the ruins of the tomb of Leonidas, and
several other fictitious scenes of interest.
For the classical scholar, the historian, the archeologist, and lovers
of the picturesque, there is no country more abundant in interest than
Greece, and although the accommodations are primitive and the means
of transportation are limited, even the shortest visit to the country
will be full of gratification. Greece is now only four days from
London and three days from Paris, and in these times, when many people
have exhausted the novelties of northern Europe, they will find the
classic grounds of the Hellenic peninsula a most satisfactory place
of resort. Excepting Japan, southern Italy and the Tyrol, no country
compares with Greece in the beauty of its landscapes. The remarkable
purity of the atmosphere at Athens enhances the effect of artificial
as well as natural objects of interest. As in Arizona, distances are
very deceptive. Far-off mountains are brought close to the eye as
with a field-glass, and as you approach them they recede in a most
provoking way. Hymettus and Pentelikos, the two famous mountains which
lie on either side of Athens, are often enveloped in a curious pink
glow at sunset, and then, as the flame fades out of the sky, they take
on a deep violet tinge. The Greek sunset is something that cannot be
represented on canvas. Artists and poets rave about it, but it is
beyond their power to reproduce.
It is not a land for luxurious people, however. The climate is more to
be recommended than the hotels, but the natural scenery has a variety,
a richness and a color that no other part of Europe affords. The
foliage and the flowers are abundant and beautiful, and in the rural
districts the people are picturesque in manners, customs and dress.
Their habits and social life have not been affected by what we call
the advances of modern civilization. In public conveniences, however,
Greece is still far behind the times. Athens is the only place where
the hotels are tolerable, and travelers who go into the interior must
take their own provisions and bedding. Even those who make little
excursions by carriage for a single day in the neighborhood of Athens
must carry a lunch-basket, because the inns are primitive and filthy.
Railway facilities are limited. With a few exceptions the roads are
bad, but they are gradually improving, and several of the centers of
great interest to tourists may now be reached by carriage. Only a few
years ago travelers had to go on horseback or on foot, as they do in
the Holy Land. Even now those who visit some of the most interesting
places have to put up with discomforts, inconveniences and a good deal
of dirt and bad smells, although they are fully repaid.
FINIS.
INDEX
Abduction, Prince Alexander of Bulgaria, 174
Abdul Aziz, 67
Abdul Hamid II, 54
Abdul Medjid, 67
Abraham, Founder of the Turkish Race, 55
Acropolis of Athens, 369
Adossides, George, 62
Adriatic Coast, 303
Agamemnon, Tomb of, 384
Agriculture in Bulgaria, 194
in Bosnia, 290
in Servia, 261
in Greece, 342, 363
Alexander the Great, 14
Alexander of Battenberg, 169, 174, 186, 196
Alexander of Servia, 248
Alexander II. of Russia, 167, 173, 207
Alexander III. of Russia, 173
Alix, Czarina, 251
Americans in Bulgaria, 209
American Board of Foreign Missions, 142, 148, 209, 224
American School at Athens, 328, 372
Anarchy in Bosnia, 274
Andrews, Eugene P., Discovery by, 372
Archaeological Institute, American, 328, 372
Architecture of Constantinople, 94
Areopagus, the, 379
Armenians in Constantinople, 103
Armenian Massacres, 161
Army, Bosnian, 280
Bulgarian, 200
Servian, 260, 269
Turkish, 84
Assassination of Stambouloff, 182
Assassinations of Sultans, 55, 67
Athens, Modern, 332
Streets of, 333
Climate of, 333
Parks of, 334
Public Buildings of, 357
the Acropolis of, 369
Riots in, 349
Athletic Sports in Greece, 360
Atrocities, Bulgarian, 14, 27, 167
Attar of Roses, 194, 207
Auctions in Constantinople, 124
Austria, Political Attitude of, 17, 34
Austrian Soldiers in Bosnia, 280
Administration in Bosnia, 273
Baird, Rev. Dr., 234
Bakhmeteff, Mr., Russian Agent, Sofia, 185, 216
Baldwin I., 190
Bazaars of Constantinople, 119
of Sarajevo, 284
Beet-Sugar in Bosnia, 290
Belgrade, City of, 257
Berlin Conference 1878, 14, 27, 273, 304
Beyler Bey Palace, 132
Bible in Turkish, 152, 212
Biography of Sultan, 62
Blackmail in Macedonia, 228
in Turkey, 46
Bosnia, Development of, 296
Population of, 276
Regeneration of, 273
Soldiers, 281
Boundaries of Bulgaria, 193
Bosphorus, the, 91, 105, 142
Bribery in Turkey, 97
Bridges, Constantinople, 40, 107
Brigandage in Macedonia, 227
Brindisi, Port of, 311
Brothers, the Sultan’s, 68
Bulgaria, Conditions in, 20
History, 165, 195
Relation to European Politics, 166, 171
Business in Turkey, 57, 96, 110, 120
Byron, Lord, 360
Castles on the Bosphorus, 143
Castle at Belgrade, 267
Cattaro, Town of, 303
Cattle in Bosnia, 290
Servian, 261
Cemeteries, Turkish, 112
Censorship in Turkey, 154
Ceremonies, Mohammedan, 82, 136
Chambers, the Sultan’s, 76
Churches, Protestant in Turkey, 149
in Bosnia, 281
Children, Sultan’s, 72, 85
Cistern of 1,001 Pillars, 161
Cities of Bulgaria, 193
Civilization, Early, in Balkans, 13
Clark, Rev. Mr., 224
Classic Spirit of Greece, 335
Clytemnestra, Tomb of, 385
Coat of Arms, Turkish, 53
Coffee-Houses, Turkish, 47
College for Girls, Scutari, 153
Commerce of Constantinople, 111
Concessions, German, in Turkey, 18
Conference, Berlin, of 1878, 14, 27, 273, 304
Consular Trials in Turkey, 156
Conspiracies in Turkey, 56
in Servia, 250
Constantinople, Picturesqueness, 91
Filth of, 40
Corfu, Island of, 312
Population of, 315
Climate of, 315
Corinth, Gulf of, 318, 325
Ancient, 322
Modern, 322
Canal of, 322
Excavations at, 328
Corruption among Turkish Officials, 97
Costumes, Servian, 263
Bulgarian, 198
Greek, 319
Cosmopolitan Population of Constantinople, 101, 107
Courts in Bosnia, 289
Turkish, 157
Cowardice of Sultan, 55
Crescent as a Symbol, 53
Crime in Bosnia, 274
in Greece, 340
Crown Prince of Greece, 351
Currant Culture in Greece, 318
Custom House, Constantinople, 97, 111
Belgrade, 257
Customs of Bosnia, 279, 287
Dalmatian Coast, 303
Damascus, Political Exiles in, 60
Danube River, the, 191
Dardanelles, the, 91
Delphi, the Oracle of, 382
Demosthenes, Home of, 380
Dickinson, Consul-General, 222, 230, 234
Diocletian, Palace of, 306
Diogenes, Home of, 328
Diplomatic Protests to Turkey, 18
Dishonesty in Turkey, 41, 97
Dogs of Constantinople, 113
Dolma-Baghtcheh Palace, 69, 131, 135
Dorys, George, Biographer of Sultan, 62
Draga, Queen of Servia, 248
Education in Bulgaria, 200, 213
in Greece, 338
Education in Servia, 265
in Turkey, 152
Editors in Turkey, 154
Electricity Forbidden in Turkey, 61
Embassies in Constantinople, 95, 158
Emigration from Greece, 355
England, Attitude of, 14, 34
Eunuchs, Turkish, 85
Excavations at Corinth, 328
Agamemnon’s Tomb, 384
Bosnia, 295
Delphi, 382
Diocletian’s Palace, 306
Mycenae, 384
Olympia, 385
the Acropolis, 369
Thebes, 382
Tanagra, 381
Exiles, Turkish, 59
Extra-Territoriality, 156
Eyub, Mosque of, 89
Fanaticism, Religious, 26
Ferdinand, Prince of Bulgaria, 178, 184, 197
Children of, 186
Firemen of Constantinople, 116
Football in Turkey, Dangers of, 58
Foreigners in Constantinople, 97
France, Political Attitude, 19
Franchises in Bosnia, 296
Fruits in Bulgaria, 207
Fuad, Pasha, 59
Funerals, Greek, 367
Galata, City of, 93
Gargiulo, Mr., 232
George, King of Greece, 313, 346, 351
Germany, Political Attitude of, 17, 34
Gladstone and Bulgaria, 167
and Greece, 314
Golden Horn, 36, 92
Government, Turkish System of, 35, 49, 97, 102
Grant, General, 64
Green Vaults of Constantine, 137
Greeks in Constantinople, 104
Greek Church in Constantinople, 352
in Bulgaria, 186
in Bosnia, 296
Greece, Climate of, 387
Costume of Natives, 319
Crime in, 340
Currant Culture, 318
Education in, 338
Hotels of, 387
Journey to, 312
Newspapers of, 338
Olive Trees in, 319
Peasants, 343, 363
Politics, 336, 346
Population, 362
Prisons, 342
Professions, 343
Railways, 311
Society, 337
Guilds in Turkey, 121
Habits, Turkish, 45, 109
Hadji, Rank of, 51
Hamlin, Dr. Cyrus, 146
Harem, The Sultan’s, 64, 70, 85
Haskell, Rev. Dr., 234
Hassan Pasha, 37
Heir to Servian Throne, 251
to Turkish Throne, 68
Helena, Queen of Italy, 252
Hellespont, the, 92
Historical Review, 13
Homer’s School at Stavros, 316
Holy Banner, Bosnian, 55, 136
Holy Mantle, 40, 55, 136
Hotel at Belgrade, 259
Hotels, Government, in Bosnia, 297
Horses, Bulgarian, 201
in Constantinople, 111
the Sultan’s, 88
House, Rev. John Henry, 211, 217, 232
Household, the Sultan’s, 79, 68, 85
Hymettus, Mount, 380
Intemperance in Turkey, 46
Ismet Bey, Sultan’s Foster-Brother, 75
Ithaca, Island of, 313
Jajce, Bosnia, 301
Janissaries, 135
Jews in Bosnia, 299
in Bulgaria, 203
in Servia, 264
in Constantinople, 104
John, St., of Ryle, 186
Justice, Turkish, 157
Kallay, Count von, Administration of, in Bosnia, 273
Kalpak, Bulgarian Headdress, 209
Karageorgeovitch Family, 244, 253
Kassuroff, Mrs. Ivan B., 214
Khans of Constantinople, 119
Kidnaping in Macedonia, 227
Kindergarten in Sofia, 212
Labor Unions in Turkey, 121
Lamsdorff, Count, 251
Land Laws in Bosnia, 289
Language, Bulgarian, 194
Modern Greek, 348
Servian, 266
Law Schools in Bosnia, 294
Law, Turkish, 157
Leishman, Minister, 232
Leonidas, Battle of, 382
Ludskanoff, Bulgarian Minister, 183
Luke, St., Tomb of, 302
Macedonia, Conditions in, 15, 30, 168
Macedonian Committee, 26, 239
Mahmoud Pasha, 69, 314
Manufacturing in Bosnia, 292
Marathon, Battle of, 381
Marco Bozzaris, 360
Mark Antony, Scene of Battle, 315
Market at Belgrade, 261
Marmora, Sea of, 91
Mars Hill, 378
Marsh, Rev. Geo. L., 211
Massacres, Armenian, 41, 103, 161
in Bosnia, 293
in Bulgaria, 15, 27, 31
in Macedonia, 15, 30, 168
Mecca, Pilgrimages to, 51, 83
Methodists in Bulgaria, 210
Metkovic, Town of, 304
Michael, King of Servia, 245, 269
Milan, King of Servia, 247
Milos, King of Servia, 245
Military Policy in Bosnia, 281
Minarets of Constantinople, 93
Mirko, Prince of Montenegro, 251
Missionaries in Constantinople, 148
Mohammedans Converted to Christianity, 151
Mohammedan Fanaticism, 26, 44, 49, 63, 188
Religion, 43, 54, 83, 112, 286
Monastery of Ryle, 186
Mosques of Constantinople, 82, 94, 111, 118, 126, 136
Mosques of Sarajevo, 286
Montenegro, Royal Family of, 251, 303
Moulahs, 43
Mountains of Bosnia, 278
Murad V., 67
Music, Sultan’s Love of, 77
Mycenae, 384
Natalie, Queen of Servia, 247
Naturalized Americans in Turkey, 100
Navy, Turkish, 36
Nephews, the Sultan’s, 71
Newspapers, the Sultan’s Ideas of, 80
in Turkey, 154
Greek, 338
Odyssey, Scenes of the, 316
Oil of Roses, 207
Olga, Queen of Greece, 348
Olive Trees in Greece, 319
Olympia, Games of, 385
Orient Express, 191
Ossa, Mount, 384
Ottoman Bank Affair, 42
Palace at Athens, 333
Belgrade, 260
Beyler-Bey, 132
Dolma-Baghtcheh, 69, 131, 135
Tcheragan, 67
Yildiz Kiosk, 55, 79, 131
Parliament, Bulgarian, 170
of Greece, 345
Parnassus, Mount, 324, 383
Parthenon, the, 369
Passports in Turkey, 100
Patras, Town of, 317
Patrick, Miss Mary M., 153
Paul, St., at Corinth, 330
Peasants in Bulgaria, 204
Greek, 325, 343
Peddlers in Constantinople, 110
Peet, W. W., 232
Pelion, Mount, 384
Pentelikos, Quarries of, 332
Pera, City of, 93
Philip of Macedon, 13, 53, 208
Philippopolis, 208
Photographs of Moslems, 50
Pigeons in Turkey, 118
Pilgrims, Moslem, 51, 83
Police, Bosnian, 282
Political Jealousies in Europe, 14, 34
Politics, Turkish, 56
in Greece, 336, 346
Popoff, Rev. Marko, 211
Population of Bosnia, 276
of Bulgaria, 193, 209
of Constantinople, 102
of Corfu, 315
of Greece, 362
of Macedonia, 32
of Servia, 264
Porter, General Horace, 362
Porte, the Sublime, 92, 135
Postal Service in Turkey, 160
Priests in Greece, 352
Mohammedan, 43, 102, 111
Prisons in Bosnia, 277
in Greece, 342
in Servia, 268
Products of Bulgaria, 203
Professions in Greece, 343
Protestants in Bulgaria, 209
in Constantinople, 149
Prunes, Servian, 261
Public Buildings in Athens, 357
Ragusa, Town of, 304
Railways in Balkans, 191
in Bosnia, 277
in Greece, 311, 325
in Turkey, 105
Ransoms paid in Macedonia, 228
Rebellion in Balkans, 15, 30
Religious Character, Sultan’s, 83
Religions in Balkans, 32, 34
Richardson, Professor, 374
Riots in Athens, 349
Robert College, 70, 142
Roman Occupation of Balkans, 14
Roman Remains in Bosnia, 295
Roman Catholics in Bosnia, 298
Roumania, Conditions in, 20
Rugs, Turkish, 112
Rumelia, Eastern, 15
Rumili Hisar, 143
Russian Interference in Balkans, 14, 34, 165
Russo-Turkish War, 14, 34
Said Pasha, 38
Salona, Town of, 306
Salamis, Island of, 379
San Stefano, Treaty of, 14, 168
Sarafoff, Boris, 28, 230
Sarajevo, Capital of Bosnia, 277
Schools, Protestant in Turkey, 150
in Bulgaria, 213
Mohammedan, 43
Scutari, City of, 93
Women’s College, 153
Schuyler, Eugene, 167, 172
Selamlik, the, 82
Seraglio, the, 55, 92, 132
Servia, Independence of, 244
Conditions in, 20
Kings of, 245, 269
Conspiracies, 250
Capital of, 257
Palace of, 260
Population of, 264
Political Situation, 243
Sheik-ul-Islam, 44, 83, 101
Shepherd, a Greek, 321
Shipka, Battle of, 207
Shopping in Constantinople, 120
Sisters, the Sultan’s, 70
Skupshtina, Servian Parliament, 259
Sobranje, the Bulgarian, 170, 176
St. Sophia, Mosque of, 126
Sofia, City of, 195
Softas, 43
Society in Greece, 336
Socrates, Prison of, 380
Spalato, Town of, 306
Stadium at Athens, 359
Stambouloff, Stepan, 175, 182, 196
Stamboul, City of, 92
Stavreff, the Assassin, 182
Stoiloff, Minister of Bulgaria, 180
Stone, Miss Ellen M., 16, 187, 217, 235
Streets of Constantinople, 95
Students in Constantinople, 147
Sublime Porte, the, 92, 135
Sultan, Family of, 54
Habits of, 35, 49, 50, 54, 61, 63, 75, 82
Jewels, 139
Policy of, 23, 63
Skill in Diplomacy, 17
Superstitions, 61, 75
Superstitions, Turkish, 118
Sultanas, the, 65, 85
Tanagra, Excavations at, 381
Taxes in Bulgaria, 202
Telephones in the Balkans, 192
in Turkey, 61
Temperance of Moslems, 46
Tesla, Nikola, 300
Thebes, 382
Themistocles, Tomb of, 379
Thermopylae, Pass of, 383
Timotheus at Corinth, 330
Tirnova, Ancient Capital, 188
Titles of the Sultan, 55
Tobacco in Bosnia, 290
Tombs of the Sultans, 89
Trajan, Emperor, 14
Travel in Greece, 312
Treasury of the Sultan, 137
Treaty of Berlin, 14, 27, 273, 304
Tsilka, Mr. and Mrs., 218
Turkish Characteristics, 45, 109, 112
Cruelties, 293
Virtues, 289
Invasion of Balkans, 14
Ulysses, Landing Place, 313
Vaciloff, Cyril, 222
Vatralsky, Stoyan, 216
Virtues of the Turks, 289
Vulkovitch, Assassination of, 182
Wealth of Greeks, 354
Wages in Bulgaria, 202
Washburn, Rev. Dr., 144
Women of Constantinople, 109
Worship in Bosnia, 296
Yachts, the Embassy, 159
Yildiz Kiosk, 55, 79, 80, 131
“Young Turkey” Party, 24, 67
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are
mentioned, except for the frontispiece.
Punctuation has been made consistent.
Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in
the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have
been corrected.
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