O'er oceans and continents with the setting sun. 3d series: Jerusalem, Palestine in Bedouin garb, Syria and the islands of the Mediterranean, Smyrna, Constantinople, Athens, Corfu

Preface

For this third series of "O'er Oceans" the author kindly requests a continuance of the good will which he met with in the publication of the first and second series. It is issued for the same purpose: to herald and promote the first English translation of the great Spanish work, a Ciudad de Dios."

Fiscar Marison. 331 91ST Street, Chicago.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Page Constantinople from the Cemetery Frontispiece s

Mount Moria, Jerusalem

In Arab Costume

Nazareth ....

Entrance — The Holy Sepulchre -

Tarsus .....

St. Sophia ....

Panorama of Athens and Eleusis

The Acropolis

Ruins of Olympia .

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28 .•

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47'

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Interior

119 /•

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146 ^

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174^

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203 ^

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213 <

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Chapter I

A Neat Piece of Smugglery — Ancient Jaffa — Up Judea's Mountains to Jerusalem — At the Austrian Hospice — Moonlight Wanderings — An Hour at Gethsemane on Holy Thursday.

Having embarked on the steamer Thalia at Port Said, we arose early next day, the Thursday of Holy Week, in order to catch the first glimpse of the most sacred land in all Christendom. The rays of the morning sun blazed a wide pathway of glinting gold on the rippling waves to the darker outlines of buildings and minarets of ancient Jaffa, that rose on high bluffs over the blue waters of the Mediterranean.

The steamer anchored in the deep water about a quarter of a mile from the rocky shore, and in a moment the horde of carriers had surrounded the ship in their boats and were climbing over the sides. Cook's agent, who was dressed in a Turkish uniform, had also boarded the ship with a bevy of carriers and boatmen to get his share of the spoils. I determined to trust myself into his hands, and see what he could do for me in my attempt to smuggle myself into Turkish territory without a vise. But another set of fiends had already snatched our handbags. While I set about recovering them from their hands by main force, I suddenly stood face to face with Mr. Wiltzius, of Milwaukee, who was having a similar scramble. Of course we had a hearty handshake, and he immediately decided to join us in Cook's boat. So, with a score of other passengers, we were soon approaching the dangerous rocks that jut out of the waters near the shore. Our stout Turk, who had

ii

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taken us in charge as Cook's agent in Jaffa, demanded our papers. He returned my American passport with the remark that it was not sufficient, and that I would have trouble at landing. We were now approaching the only opening between the broken rocks near the shore. Huge waves were rolling against them, and if the boatmen should allow the boat to swerve only a few feet to one side or the other, we would be dashed to pieces on their jagged edges. But they knew their business, and shot us through the passage on the crest of a wave, landing us safely at the pier of the custom-house. Our stout Turk simply pushed his way past the Turkish soldiers and custom officials, through a dark gateway, beckoning us all to follow. I was wondering where we would be stopped for our passports; but when we issued on one of the lively streets to Jaffa, I understood that our rotund guide had railroaded us through the whole crowd of venal officials by that open sesame of Turkish regime: bakshish. Well, it was a real service, and I scored it up in favor of Cook's agency.

From a distance at sea, Jaffa looks like a well-built city on the summit of wave-beaten cliffs. But when you pass through the narrow, ruinous streets, and see the hovels half buried in the wastes of thousands of years, you quickly change your opinion. The upper bazaars, and some few streets neighboring to them, show some signs of modern improvement and regard for cleanliness. They are full of life, and you will find people of all nations mixed up with the swarming Turks and Arabs. For those who are charitably inclined, it is better to procure some of the small coins, paras and metaliques, in order to satisfy the numerous demands of the beggars and bakshish hunters. We had made up our minds to stay for dinner in the Franciscan hospice, one of the oldest buildings in Jaffa and overlooking the beach. A brother showed us to Simon the Tanner's house, where St. Peter

To Jerusalem.

saw the clean and unclean animals which he was commanded to eat let down from heaven in a cloth. Through this vision he was instructed to receive the heathen centurion into the church, who was already waiting at the door of the house. A small mosque, very bare and dirty, stands on the place. The old man that had charge of it wanted us to take off our shoes ; but as our shoes were much cleaner than the mosque we refused to undergo that trouble. There was nothing inside that we could not see from the door. It is of course only the traditional spot where Simon's house used to stand ; for the house itself has disappeared long ago.

We came very near missing the afternoon train to Jerusalem by the blundering of Cook's agents that had charge of our baggage. Happily Mr. Wiltzius had bought tickets for us before we came. The train at first winds through the plains of Sharon, where the German Templars have planted some beautiful orange groves ; but only for a few miles from Jaffa: beyond that the land is not much cultivated. The plows used by some of the natives on the fields were only two sticks of wood tied together at right angles. Cows or oxen are hitched to the free end of one stick. The plowman holds the upper end of the other stick and presses on the lower end slightly scratching the soil. After an hour or so we passed Ramleh, one of the larger villages along the railroad, where the old tower of Ramleh is visible from the train. Lydda comes next, which is the birthplace of St. George, and must have been quite a town formerly.

The progress of the train became still slower when we began to reach the mountains of Judea. They are a rocky desert, for the most part barren and treeless ; yet wherever sheer necessity of procuring sustenance induced the natives to cover the rocky ledges with ground, and irrigate the sunburnt hillside, they were abundantly rewarded. Most of the time the train goes no faster than

O'er Oceans and Continents.

a walk. Such a pace would soon drive all traffic from an American railroad, but it seems to do very well in Palestine. Though the distance is only ninety kilometers or fifty-two miles, it took the train five hours to reach Jerusalem. The terminal station is outside the walls, southwest of the city. The different new establishments and settlements bid fair to become the most populous portion of the historic Jerusalem. Among the many establishments outside the city there are now quite a number of Catholic ones, such as the German hospice, the convent of Notre Dame, the Creche of the Sisters of Charity, St. Peter's Institute of P. Ratisbon for boys, St. Stephen's church and Dominican monastery, and the Assumptionists' hospice. We hired a carriage in order to be brought to Cook's office at the Jaffa gate. There I received a batch of welcome letters from home, reassuring me that all was well and prosperous. There are no wagon roads in Jerusalem, and therefore in order to reach the Austrian hospice, which was recommended by Mr. Wiltzius, it was necessary to pass again through the Jaffa gate on the road, which runs parallel to and outside of the west walls to the Damascus gate. Re-entering the city, we were soon hospitably quartered in the Austrian hospice.

I had made some plans of my own in regard to the use of the time after supper. I wanted to spend a part of the evening of Holy Thursday alone in the garden of Gethsemane, where our Saviour had begun his passion on the same night nineteen centuries ago. Perhaps the same beautiful moonlight filled the narrow streets and the valley of the Kedron when he so sorrowfully wended his way with the Apostles to the lonely garden. But my desire of being alone on this excursion was doomed to disappointment. I had hoped to be able to give my roommates the slip without being obliged to explain ; but Mr. Wiltzius urged me to go with him to Casa Nova, the

A Moonlight Walk.

Franciscan hospice, where he said we would meet Fathers V. H. and B. I thought this was a fine chance to steal a march on them, and I tried to induce him and my other companion to hunt up those two gentlemen without my company. But they would not be put off so easily as that. I had to reveal my intention of visiting Gethsemane, and then Mr. Wiltzius simply proposed to go with me. As for my other companion, who was so hard of hearing, he immediately suspected me of trying to shake him off for good, and leave him henceforth to shift for himself. It is needless to say that such a thought never entered my mind. I had given my promise to conduct him to Vienna, and nothing short of impossibility would ever have induced me to leave that promise unfulfilled. The trouble and annoyance caused by his infirmity, and his suspicions which are consequent upon it, were sometimes very great, as can easily be imagined. Of course after so much of my intended excursion had become known, there was nothing else to do than to invite my companions to join me.

There had been so much talk of the danger of passing alone through the streets of Jerusalem and the territory outside the walls, that the others insisted on taking along Ali, the kawass of the hospice. I had intended to go alone: now there was even a Mussulman in the party. The four of us sauntered through the narrow street leading to St. Stephen's gate, through the Turkish cemeteries, down to the torrent of Kedron, and over the stone bridge across it to the garden of Gethsemane. Its high stone walls, only a few paces from the Kedron, gleamed white in the moonlight, and the dark foliage of the olive trees that overtopped the walls were not stirred by even a breath of wind. To one side the rocky declivities of Mount Moria crowned by the spectral city walls, and on the other, the stony heights of Olivet guarded the intervening valley of Josaphat. Through this valley

O'er Oceans and Continents.

trickles the brook Kedron, downward to the Hill of Bad Council and Hinom Vale. What a sacred stillness reigned here on this night in these holy places! The silvery flood of moonlight lay poured out over hill and valley, over crumbling walls and dark olive trees, and over the gleaming rocks. Arriving at the low portal of the enclosure of Gethsemane, we saw several dark forms of persons crouched on the ledge of white rocks before the gate, seemingly on the same errand as we ourselves. The Franciscans are in possession of a part of the old garden of Gethsemane, and we expected some kind of divine service in it on Holy Thursday. So much the greater was our surprise to find the portals closely barred and our knocks remain unanswered. The rocks in front of the gate, mark the spot where the three Apostles fell asleep during the agony. About two or three hundred feet from the garden walls is the grotto, or rather the large cave, which is said to have been the scene of the bloody sweat of the Lord. As we were not familiar with the surroundings on our first night in Jerusalem, we did not visit the grotto until some days after. It may be that the Catholics had services there on that night ; but we saw nobody going that way.

While we were contemplating the scenes around us, we noticed some people straggling slowly up the mountain along the road, and very soon we heard the mournful strains of a song, now and then interrupted by spoken words. Curiosity led us in the direction of the sounds, and we came upon about a score of people, very well dressed. They were standing on a ledge of the mountain listening to a Protestant preacher, who was reading St. John's account of this night's occurrences two thousand years ago. He seemed to be very solemn and sincere in his rendering of the passages, and the little band of pious souls sang with much affection and devoutness. Though it was only a Protestant service, the solemnity of the

Protestant Devotion.

place and time no doubt was favorable to the workings of God's grace in the hearts of the participants. Those whom circumstances have deprived of the sunlight of true Catholic doctrine do well not to reject the pale glimmers of heresy for their devotion. We left these devout persons in order to meditate for a while near the entrance of the garden, and then returned across the Kedron, climbing up to the right around the city walls, to the Damascus gate on the other side of the city. Darkly the old walls and the crumbling battelments of Jerusalem rose, casting ghost-like yet well-defined shadows on the rocky, moonlit ground to our left. Xor did the Turkish sentinels that still watch the gates of Jerusalem deem it worth while to leave their dark recesses or molest us, as we passed under the vast arches of the Damascus gate. Only a short distance inside the walls, on a road branching off to the left, we soon regained our rooms in the Austrian hospice, and betook ourselves to our first night's rest in the Holy City.

Chapter II

Good Friday on Golgotha — A Gathering From all Christendom — Turkish Coin, a Perpetuated Fraud — In the Footsteps of the Savior — "His Tomb Shall be Glorious."

Getting up early next morning we hastened on our way to the church of the Holy Sepulchre in order to take part in the service of Good Friday. Those parts of the church which belong to the Catholics are in charge of the Franciscans, who have been the guardians of the holy places in Palestine since the thirteenth century. Hence they also conducted the Latin services.

The church of the Holy Sepulchre on feast days will probably be a sad disappointment to the unwary stranger. In his own country he associates with the celebration of a feast in a Christian church, a solemn silence, devout postures of the people, and heart-stirring music. Here he will meet very little of all these. He will find the church of the Holy Sepulchre filled with motley crowds from all nations and climes, and belonging to different religions. At his very entrance his eyes encounter a guard of Turkish soldiers, lying or sitting on a raised platform, to the left and inside of the portals. They laugh and talk and gape at the passing crowds, even smoking their nargilehs. More of these Turkish soldiers fully armed, he will afterwards meet in all parts of the church, ready to interfere at any disturbance with their weapons. Then he will probably have to push his way through surging crowds of Russian, French, German, Austrian, and English pilgrims, and the adherents of the Greek, Coptic, Armenian schisms, who fill the spacious recesses and naves of the

O'er Oceans and Continents.

church. He can witness the services of the Latins, Greeks, Copts, and Armenians at stated hours of the day, sometimes at the Holy Sepulchre, sometimes at the chapels or altars belonging exclusively to each of these religions in different portions of the temple. Indescribable confusion often reigns, loud voices resound, songs of one language mingle with those of another. Now and then is heard the dull thud of the staff of a kawass, making way for some procession, or the clangor of arms, separating clashing factions.

It is providential that the almost impartial Turk, (impartial at least as long as the flow of bakshish is not lessened), has control of the holiest place on earth. Under present partial ownership of the church, among so many nations and factions, divine worship without this control would no doubt become entirely impossible on account of continued quarrels.

I took part in the Missa Praesanctificorum in company with the Franciscans and a goodly number of pilgrim priests. The robed and surpliced priests moved in procession past the Holy Sepulchre from the Latin sacristy up the stairs to mount Calvary in another part of the church. The exact spot where the Cross stood is in the hands of the Greek popes, and their fanaticism prevented any services being held on that altar. Immediately aside of it is the altar of the crucifixion — the spot on which Jesus was nailed to the Cross — and this is in possession of the Latin monks. The usual ceremonies of Good Friday took place according to the Latin rite. But the singing of the orations and lessons, and of the Passion was considerably mixed with Italian variations, which detracted a great deal from the beauty and the grandeur of the Gregorian chant. The solemn kissing of the large crucifix, which lay on the exact spot where the Son of God was nailed to the Cross, was performed by the priests, the nuns of the different convents, and

On Golgotha.

by such of the pilgrims as were fortunate enough to be able to approach. These ceremonies, which typify the reality enacted on this spot, could not but deeply impress the beholder. Passing out of the ancient portals of the church into the square court or piazza, which is paved with large flagstones and surrounded by halfruinous buildings, we had to take care not to step on the heaps of devotional articles exposed for sale in every direction. Near these gaudy piles of merchandise sat the venders and hawkers of different nationalties — Jews, Arabs, Armenians, Greeks, and Turks. In fact all the streets in the neighborhood are only a continuation of this motley bazaar. They charge what they can get, and seem to do thriving business. Buyers are always safer in offering about half of the price first asked. Money changers, brooding over their wire-screened boxes, sit around on ever}' corner, ready to change your gold or foreign money into small Turkish currency. They take care to charge you enough for the exchange.

French or English silver or gold will serve very well for large payments of purchases, though even these are accepted only at a discount ; but for daily use you must have Turkish money. This Turkish money is a grand scheme of larceny from the Sultan's throne down to the lowest beggar on the streets. Turkish money has different values according to the person you are dealing with, and according to the circumstances of the transaction. In dealing with the government its value is least; the wholesaler will accept it at a less value than the retailer, and the retailer will shrewdly gauge the value of the money he gets for his goods by the gullibility of the purchaser. Moreover, the same money has different values in different towns of Turkey. In its denominations it is the most illogical in existence. In Jerusalem, a medjid, which is a piece of silver about the size of our dollar, is equal to twenty-five piastres, each one of these is equal

O'er Oceans and Continents.

to nine metaliques and one kabach, one metalique is equal to four kabaches and two and a half paras. All below the ruba-medjid, or quarter of a medjid, is of a base alloy of copper and nickel, worth about one-hundredth of the face value. A bishlik is a thin piece of alloy an inch and a quarter in diameter, worth three piastres. As soon as you get outside of Jerusalem you will have to study a new table of values for your money. In fact you will find that your money changes its value as often as you leave the neighborhood of any considerable town in this land of bakshish and fraud.

After services we paid a visit to Casa Nova, and saw there our former fellow-travelers, Revs. B. and V. H. They had made a flying trip through India while Rev. S. and Mr. H. had gone direct from Colombo to Brindisi. The former two were to leave on the next day ; they had been only two weeks in Palestine, and had not made the trip to Nazareth or other points in Galilee.

The dinner at the Austrian hospice was always a lengthy affair. To us it seemed unbearable, and very often we left the table before the others were half through. I suppose the slow and easy-going Austrians thought it rather strange. They indulged in great honneurs, w T hen the Austrian consul came to dine.

In the afternoon of Good Friday the pilgrims and the resident Catholics turned out in great numbers to make the Way of the Cross on the Via Dolorosa publicly under the leadership of the Franciscans. At each station one of the Fathers, who wore a long, flowing beard, preached in French. The first station, where Jesus was condemned to death, is within a paved court, hemmed in by the walls of an old church and other buildings now used as barracks. The second, where Jesus took upon Himself the cross, is on the other side of the street, a little to the east of this court, where the Ecce Homo arch is built into the convent of the Ratisbon Sisters. The

The Sorrowful Way.

third, the first fall under the Cross, is on the same street in the united Armenian chapel. Adjoining the Austrian hospice, on a fork of the road, is the fourth station, the meeting of Jesus and Mary. The station of Simon is at the intersection of a road leading up to the church of the Holy Sepulchre; and that of Veronica is somewhat up the hill on this road, just before coming to the walls of the old city.

Going farther up the same road, beneath the maze of a dark, arched passage, on the other side of the ancient gateway, is the seventh station, the second fall of Jesus under the Cross. Within a Greek convent is the spot where the holy women stood weeping ; it is marked by a cross in the outside wall of the convent bordering the street. The ninth, the third fall, is between the walls of the convent and the walls of the church of the Holy Sepulchre. The station of the despoiling of the garments is inside the church of the Holy Sepulchre, at the head of the stairs of the Latin chapel of the crucifixion. Only ten steps farther on, in the same chapel, Jesus was nailed to the cross, the spot being marked by a mosaic cross on the floor, which we had venerated that morning. The twelfth, the death of Jesus, is at the Greek altar of this chapel. The spot where Jesus died on His Cross belongs to the Greek monks, and is adorned by a magnificent bronze crucifix. It must be understood that the two altars, the Latin and the Greek, stand side by side in this chapel of the crucifixion on Mt. Golgotha. Between them is a space of about four feet. Near by, a statue of the Mater Dolorosa marks the thirteenth station. The fourteenth station, the burial of Jesus, is of course downstairs on the main floor inside the Holy Sepulchre.

Following the lead of the Franciscans, a multitude of earnest worshippers from all parts of the globe made the sorrowful Way. The whole courtyard of Pilate and

O'er Oceans and Continents.

the adjoining streets were filled with devout pilgrims, listening to the short exhortation and joining in the public prayers. The procession grew larger as it moved on from station to station. All were visibly moved and hesitated not to kneel in the filthy streets and join the responses. Conspicuous near the white-bearded Franciscan was always the tall and stout figure of Father V. H. seemingly more moved than the rest. The church was much too small for the crowds, and only a few could reach the last four stations. The services of the Latins on Good Friday night close with ten sermons, in ten different languages, held at the same time in the different portions of the church. During these days many colored lamps are lighted over the holy grave and in other parts of the basilica, so that the prophecy of the scriptures, that "his grave shall be glorious" is literally fulfilled.

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Chapter III

Bethlehem of Juda — Jaffa Gate and its Surroundings — The Cenacle — Cursed Hinom — Siloa's Pool in Josaphat Valley — Jealous Fanatics — A Spot of Ceaseless Wailing.

Early in the morning of Holy Saturday three of us were seated in a carriage on our way to Bethlehem. The drive to Bethlehem lasts little longer than an hour, and we soon alighted in the large square near the basilica of the Nativity. Thither we went while Mr. Wiltzius attended to some business at the rosary manufactories. The pealing of the great organ filled the church with gladsome strains of victory, and the Allelujas of the priests at the altar already announced the great triumph of the morrow. As we intended to visit Bethlehem more at leisure later we took only a cursory glance at the church and the caves of the Nativity. We were back in the city for dinner, and, having purchased Lievin's guide through the Holy Land, we started out on our visits to remarkable places in and about Jerusalem. Lievin, a Franciscan, has made a life-study of the holy places, and is by far the best and the most reliable author on Palestine. The Franciscans are in a position to speak with authority on holy places, since, as custodians, they are not only familiar with them, but are also likely to be cautious in interpreting the thousands of different traditions which exist among the Moslems, Greeks, Armenians, and Copts about the holy places. As for Baedecker's account, it is worthless wherever it pretends to treat of objects or traditions dear to Catholic travelers. I have more than once closed Baedecker's guide-books

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with disgust. This condemnation he deserves also in regard to holy places in other parts of the world.

We began our explorations at the Jaffa gate. This part of the city is the most frequented, for here is the business quarter of the Europeans inside of the walls. It is far from suggesting real European city life, for there are only a few modern buildings wedged in between old, crumbling walls and many native shops.

In Jerusalem one must get used to old walls, narrow, dirty streets without system or order. Those that wish to stop at a hotel will find one or two near the Jaffa gate, and there they will probably get little accommodation for much outlay. At the hospice, pilgrims find abundant fare, good advice, and moderate expense. Even if a pilgrim should not be able to pay, the monks would probably put up with that inconvenience, and let him depart in peace. Casa Nova is not far from the Jaffa gate, and in the immediate neighborhood of the principal object of interest — the church of the Holy Sepulchre.

Adjoining the Jaffa gate the old towers of Phasael of David, and of Herod abutt on the city walls. They are used as Turkish barracks. In the tower of David, probably containing some of the oldest remaining walls of Jerusalem, is still shown the grated window T near its square top, from which David is said to have cast lascivious glances at Uriah's wife at her toilet in an adjoining house. Here he is also believed to have sorrowed for his adulter} 7 with her, and to have composed many of the psalms. Passing along the street that runs southeast in front of these towers, we soon came upon the extensive Armenian convents, surrounded by large gardens. Within them are the sites of Annas' and Caiphas' houses, which are now replaced by Armenian chapels. The same street leads up to the gate of Sion, in a lonely and unfrequented part of the city. A narrow lane outside

The Cenacle.

the walls passes by the plot of ground which the German Emperor recently presented to the Catholics of Jerusalem.

Some rods farther on stands the Coenaculum, where Christ held the Last Supper. It is a complex of old square buildings belonging to the Moslems, who, in their own fashion, likewise venerate some of the holy places sanctified by Christ. The hall of the Last Supper is on even ground in the largest of the ruinous buildings, and some of the stone seats and pillars are still shown as parts of the structure at the time of Christ. The hall is about fifty by thirty, entirely bare. At one end of it, up a short stairway, is the entrance to a smaller room, where a few dirty Moslems were squatting. Their faces were turned toward a dark grating which formed one side of the room. Behind the grating we could distinguish in the dark, a catafalque, or some such thing, covered with a black cloth. The ragged guardian of the place said that it was the tomb of David. Nobody believes it but the Moslems. Tombs are about the only things these Mussulmen venerate ; they manage to have a great many tombs of all sorts of celebrities scattered over Palestine, but most of them need as much repair, and are as much neglected, as the silly Turkish traditions that they commemorate.