Tales of travel all around the world

Front matter

m

HORACE -A-TAYLOR

Copyrights

Introduction

It is a universal trait in human nature, civilized and savage, to desire to learn all that is possible of other people. We are all curious about our neighbors — ^as to how they look and live and act, their business, beliefs, characters, and characteristics. It is so all around the world. The people of every race, class, and country are interested to learn what they can of other people living in distant parts of the world. It is this trait that gives a never-ending interest and charm to the tales of travel told by. the world travelers.

It is in response to many requests from friends and strangers who have read my "Around the World" letters published in the newspapers, that I "write a book" — that has induced me to issue this modest volume.

Somebody has said that "there is no story as enchanting as the story of a human life." I think there is much more information and interest in the story of a nation, with its millions of human lives, its history, achievements, customs, characteristics, and all its varied and vast concerns.

It is not my purpose to write a history of the many countries visited or to make lengthy dissertations on the people met or the things seen and heard. I shall not attempt profound discussions, nor ramble into garrulous details. I shall write mainly of the common people as I saw them, of i 4 TALES OF TRAVEL

their looks, habits and conditions; of the wonderful landscapes as seen in the morning light or sunset glow; of the prodigious monuments of antiquity as exhibited in tombs and temples, palaces and pyramids, some standing, but most of them in ruins. I shall report as concisely and accurately as I can the conditions and prospects of the people, the climates, products, and general characteristics of the countries visited. I shall speak of incidents and scenes that were especially novel, instructive, amusing or pathetic; and indulge occasionally in a breath of sentiment or touch of color to relieve of possible monotony the more common details recounted. I shall give a plainly painted but truthful picture of the people and scenes in most of the great countries around the world, where, during nearly every waking hour of more than two years of constant travel, I gazed upon scenes of the deepest historic interest, or of those around which the magic hand of legend has woven its wondrous tales.

I hope a brief recital of these scenes and experiences may bring something of interest and information to at least a small circle of friendly readers. H. A. T.

Chapter I

BENEFITS OF TRAVEL— THE AUTHOR'S FONDNESS FOR IT— EARLY EXPERIENCES AND INCIDENTS.

In the harvests of human thought and experience, as in the harvests of the soil, the wider the fields the fuller will the storehouses be. No education is more pleasurable and practical than the education of travel. It enriches the mind with new facts and ideas, brings fresh experiences fruitful in interesting and useful knowledge and brightens and broadens the whole horizon of one's existence.

The blue sky bends in beauty alike over us all; but to most of us it forever touches the earth but a little way off ; to others, more curious or favored, it reveals more distinct and wider scenes; and to still others, a fortunate few, it reaches across the wide seas and unrolls to their delighted gaze the wonderful panorama of the world.

It is given to the traveler to lift this curtain of the sky that shuts in these little worlds of ours, and show us what there is beyond. No experiences can be more profitable than those which familiarize us with the people, customs, and institutions of other countries; and no pastime be more enchanting — though amid heat or cold, and many privations and hardships — than to gaze upon the beauties and wonders of foreign lands and bask in the brightness of foreign skies.

I have always had a great fondness for travel. In my very early boyhood nothing so delighted me as to be permitted to visit neighboring towns and villages, even though they were not a dozen miles from my home. I always saw something new and interesting, different from any thing on the farm where I lived, and hence was entertained.

At the early age of ttn years I left my home in St. Lawrence County, New York, and made what was then considered a marvelous trip — far out into the "Wild West," to Illinois, on the very verge of civilization. Three years later I went up the Mississippi River from Galena, Illinois, then the most important town above St. Louis, to St. Paul. St. Paul was a little straggling hamlet, and Minneapolis was unnamed and unknown. On the way up the river we saw many Indian villages, and one recent battle ground, where the trees were filled with the dead Indians, it being the custom to place them there a few days before burial. But we saw no white faces except at one place, Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin. There was a fort there, with a small garrison, who nearly all came down to the river to see the boat and passengers. Among the number were Lieutenant Jefferson Davis, later President of the Southern Confederacy, and his new wife, a daughter of Zachary Taylor, President of the United States. Shortly before he had eloped with her, and later had been assigned to duty at this far western post.

AROUND THE WORLD . 17

There were a good many interesting things to be seen and heard on the trip, and with my boyish enthusiasm and curiosity I missed very little that was going on. I remember one rather funny incident. Among the passengers was a Boston schoolma'am, of uncertain age — we would Call her a "bachelor girl" now — who was very romantic and inquisitive. There had been much talk about the Indians, -and especially of the various hostile tribes. At supper one night somebody said that St. Paul, which happened then to be the topic of conversation, was settled largely by the Mainites. The voluble Boston spinster, supposing "Mainites" to be a tribe of Indians, piped up, "Oh, are they friendly to the whites?"

In later years, before starting upon the "around the world" trip, I had traveled quite widely at home and abroad; visited every State and Territory in the Union, including a summer given to exploring southern, central and northwestern Alaska ; visited most of the countries of Europe several times, and spent one winter in northern Africa.

Chapter II

STARTING ON "AROUND THE WORLD" TRIP— SOME MONTHS IN THIS COUNTRY— TWO YEARS SHOULD BE SPENT ABROAD.

In June, 1906, I resigned my official position as Assistant Secretary of the United States Treasury Department, committed my private business to the hands of agents, and, with my wife, started on a trip of leisure and unlimited length "around the world." Some months were spent traveling in our own country and in British America before sailing for foreign shores. We made a cruise at the invitation of Uncle Sam, in whose service I had so long been engaged, on a revenue cutter up Long Island Sound and along the coast of New England, to the noted summer resort of Bar Harbor, Maine. We embarked at Staten Island, where we remained anchored for a day, watching, interested and enamored, that marvelous marine panorama that forever unrolls its changing pictures of life and business and pleasure in New York's busy bay. We stopped at many places noted in our country's history — Newport, where wealth displays its splendors and the devotees of fashion their follies; New Bedford, the former home of the sailors and whalers whose exploits upon the seas made them and their country famous; Salem, where in early days the sainted Puritans battled with the rigorous climate and rocky soil, worshiped God and hanged

AROUND THE WORLD 19

"witches"; Boston, "the Hub," celebrated for its history, its culture, its patriotism, and the enterprise and egotism of its inhabitants.

From Bar Harbor we started across the continent by way of Canada, the St. Lawrence River, the Great Lakes and Western States, to the Pacific Coast, literally traversing the country "from Maine to California." There is no such extensive stretch of country, with as temperate climates, fertile soils, resources of forests and mines, villages and cities and marvelous natural wonders, and charming landscapes, in all the world.

We remained several weeks of the early winter in that paradise of the tourist and health-seeker, Southern California, and sailed from San Francisco for our long trip to the Orient and around the world.

The trip by water around to New York or other Atlantic seaports can be made by the direct route in about sixty days. This, however, gives no opportunity for sight-seeing, except the occasional glimpses caught at the few seaports where the transcontinental steamers call. That one may gain a fairly comprehensive knowledge of the many countries visited, it takes fully two years of practically steady travel to make a satisfactory trip.

Chapter III Sea Voyages— Sailing— Cosmopolitan Life On Shipboard— Storms At Sea

To the world traveler the sea voyages are the first and the last great events of Interest, no matter whether he anticipates them with pleasure or with dread. The seas to cross are broad, and be they calm or boisterous, they are never uninteresting. Comparatively few passengers, if their words and demeanor reveal their feelings, really enjoy a protracted sea voyage. No matter how luxurious the accommodations of the ship, how fine the weather, or agreeable the company, there runs through all the apparent pleasure a thread of uneasiness and discontent. The time drags, the days are often counted before the voyage will be over, speculations as to the weather are constant, and often there comes the unbidden thought that many a staunch and gallant ship has sailed gayly from port never to cast anchor on the other shore.

In these prosperous days so many of our people make trips abroad that descriptions of ocean travel will no doubt seem to some as exceedingly stale reading. But it should be remembered that but a very small portion of the people are permitted to indulge in any extended travel. I do not believe that, of our more than eighty millions of population, one-eighth, perhaps, barring recent immi-

AROUND THE WORLD 21

grants, have ever boarded, or even seen, an ocean steamer. And so I think a few lines telling of "life on the ocean wave" may not be uninteresting to a majority of readers.

The sailing of a great ocean liner, no matter what her port of departure or destination, is always an event of keen interest and never fails to attract large crowds. For hours all is noise, bustle, and confusion. Then the last consignments of freight are on board, the last passenger hurried up the gangways, the mighty engines begin to throb, the great screws turn, and the ship swings tremblingly from her moorings, while handkerchiefs from deck and shore wave their adieu, and, amid cheers and tears, the great ship heads out to sea.

While there is much of monotony in sea life, there are also many diversions — agreeable people to be met (and a great many not so agreeable), pleasant acquaintances to be made, many books to read, games to play, and idle hours in which to converse, and sleep, and dream. The sea is a versatile companion, full of moods and passions and manifestations. It may be serene and smiling, or somber and solemn. Sometimes it murmurs in mellow tones, laughing, gentle, and confiding, and again it roars and bellows in a very frenzy of rage, like some horrid monster with gnashing teeth and frothy jaws, seeking whom he may devour.

To the timid or those with dizzy heads or rebellious stomachs a storm at sea is a terrific trial, for fright and sickness are dread companions with which to travel. In its wrath, when the wicked winds have tortured the sea into fury, it is cruel and terrifying. I am a good sailor, and the tumult of winds and waves bring to me no mental or physical disturbance. I have often stood upon the decks, lashed to rail or mast for safety, to watch the storms. They are grand and awful, and are a sublime sight to witness. The waves are powerful in their strength, and their wrath is terrible, as they rush upon the toiling ship straining and struggling against the mighty forces of wind and water that assail it. They beat against it, tug and wrestle with its every joint, heave it high on to their dizzy crests and plunge it into awful gulfs. They surge around it, and over it, and throw their long arms high into the reeling rigging. Sometimes the forked lightning plays about the towering masts, and the bellowing thunder deafens the frightful sounds of shrieking winds and roaring waters. Sometimes the darkness envelops everything, so that nothing can be seen save here and there the top of some great billow as its foaming crest breaks up against the blackness of the sky. It is a thrilling experience, — a delight, perchance, — but more likely a terror to witness a great storm at sea.

The passenger lists of the great ocean steamships, no matter where they sail, represent as cosmopolitan crowds as can be found assembled anywhere. There are representatives of all kinds, classes and conditions of people, from almost every clime and country, from the poor, dirty and ignorant crowded in the steerage, to the rich, stylish, cul-

AROUND THE WORLD 23

tured ones who occupy the luxurious cabins and saloons on the upper decks. Society is as varied and composite on shipboard as on land. You find the plebeian and the aristocrat; the peasant and the prince; the immigrant seeking a new home; the merchant looking for new markets ; the tourist in quest of pleasure; the scholar and scientist on the way to new fields of study; the missionary going out to educate the minds and save the souls of the heathen — they are all there. And what a study in human nature they make ! Some are cheerful and companionable, some blatant and obnoxious, some reticent and reserved. The smoking-room is always a great resort and usually crowded. Here you can find much of entertainment and information. You can hear many languages, witness a great variety of games, and listen to learned discussions on almost every subject. There are oracles in every branch of knowledge. There are few subjects mentioned that somebody is not familiar with and an important question is rarely asked that does not receive prompt answer. The smoking-room is the social center of the ship, where companionship, diversion and good cheer always abound. It is no wonder that many ladies frequent it.

THE SANDWICH ISLANDS

Chapter IV

HONOLULU AND THE SANDWICH ISLANDS— THE PEOPLE, CLIMATE, PRODUCTS— THE VOLCANO OF MOUNT KILAUEA— A BEAUTIFUL CUSTOM.

On the morning of the seventh day after sailing from San Francisco our good ship steamed into the Bay of Honolulu, a city that has been named, and I think rightly, "The Paradise of the Pacific."

In my earliest boyhood days, when I had first learned to read, I became much interested in the Sandwich Islands. The reason was this: My father was a Congregational minister. No papers or literature of any kind were allowed in the home not of a religious character. Foreign missions were of great interest then, it seems to me more than now. One of the leading periodicals in our house was the Missionary Herald (I think that was the name) and I was quite a constant reader of it. It was made up largely of letters and reports from foreign missionary fields, and some of the letters, written by persons whose thoughts were not wholly restricted to the spread of the gospel and saving the souls of the heathenish Sandwich Islanders, used to write interestingly of the country, looks and habits of the people, the tropical condi-

THE SANDWICH ISLANDS 25

tions, the scenery, the wonderful mountains and terrible volcanoes, the fruits and flowers, and strange animals and fishes that abounded there. Such letters, although lacking in the true "missionary spirit," appealed strongly to the worldly and youthful reader, and so I became much interested in the Sandwich Islands, and all my life had been anxious to visit them.

The principal islands of the group are Oahau (pronounced Wahoo), on which Honolulu is located, and Hawaii, containing the charming city of Hilo. They are nearly two hundred miles apart. There are several other quite large islands partially settled and tilled or devoted to grazing, but they contain no cities or villages of much importance.

The island of Molakai is noted for being the "home of the leper." Several hundred are confined there and not allowed to leave the island. They are under the supervision of the territory. The United States government is now building a sanatorium and laboratory to care for the lepers who are unable to care for themselves, and also to make scientific investigations into the causes and cures of this loathsome disease. Speed the good work.

The day we arrived, early in February, it was very warm, and most of the ladies were in summer clothes, which are worn here all the time, for while this is winter, the sun's rays are often too warm for comfort, and the stranger must learn to go a little slowly. It is a sort of fairyland in many ways — beautiful scenery and flowers, the softest, balmiest air, and all around the wonder of hills with evervarying moods, lights, and shadows, and a sea remarkable for the beautiful colors and hues seen in it. It is a country where all nature woos, and while they say the white man does not lose his energy, I think it would soon become a land of "poco tiempo," (the land of "pretty soon") to me. The stars seem brighter here, and when we listen to the natives sing their songs our thoughts turn to those we love with a new feeling, and the absent ones grow dearer.

Honolulu is a most attractive and charming city. Its location on the beautiful plateau and foothills lying between the mountains and the sea, its balmy and equable climate, its wealth of luxurious and tropical vegetation, its cozy and elegant homes surrounded by rich gardens and ample and well kept grounds, its exuberance of flowers and evergreens and stately palms, all combine to make the city seem like a great park, restful and enchanting.

There is a large commerce in Honolulu, it being the principal port and general distributing center for the islands. There are many fine mercantile establishments, shipping houses, banks and trust companies, beside a myriad of smaller shops generally Oriental in character. Most of the financial institutions or large business concerns are owned or controlled by the sugar interests. The sugar planters largely absorb the capital, employ the labor, and control the building of the islands. Everything depends on the amount and value of the sugar crop.

THE SANDWICH ISLANDS 27

Honolulu is a distinctly cosmopolitan city; few cities in the world are more so. Here the Occident and the Orient meet. Here you find the colors, the languages, the customs, the dress, the religions of the Eastern and the Western World mingling in one mighty mass of diversified and picturesque humanity. The nationalities most in evidence are American, English, Scotch, German, Japanese, Chinese, Portuguese and native Hawaiians although many other nationalities are represented. The natives are fast giving way in business and government to the foreign element, who not only greatly outnumber them, but who surpass them in industry, intelligence, enterprise, and all the requisites of an advanced citizenship. The native Hawaiian is easy-going, good-natured, and altogether unambitous. He lacks the desire to work, and the ability to get comfortably along without it. He has neither energy nor cunning. Like the North American Indian, he is giving way to higher and superior powers and will soon perish from the face of the earth.

I was much interested in a small public school across the street from our hotel, and in the children — native and foreign, all brown-skinned, bareheaded, bare-legged, and in varied costumes — who attended it. They assemble about eight o'clock, and presently one of the larger boys comes out with a big flag, another one stands ready to help, and in a few minutes up it goes, and one forgets that five thousand miles are between him and home. One day the number was augmented by a little

Chinese girl in native jacket and trousers, with long black braid into which had been woven the cord of bright color they all seem to love. When the teacher signals by a clap of the hand that assembling time has come, there is instantaneous silence, and I have had to laugh to see the little Chinese tot try to mark time at the end of the line, as they marched into the schoolroom. Their voices came to me very sweetly as they sang the old songs we have all sung, the "Our Father in Heaven," and "Oh, the joys of childhood, roaming through the wildwood," and the thought came that gradually China will be awakened, and part of the awakening will come through the American public school system, which the flag protects and safeguards.

The most conspicuous characteristic of the residents of Honolulu, both natives and foreigners, is their charming and unbounded hospitality. It is unsurpassed. The "stranger within their gates" is made to feel at home at once. It is not to notables alone that is extended their warm and gracious greetings. All visitors are taken into their hearts and homes, and fairly embarrassed with the charming courtesies extended — calls, luncheons, dinners, receptions, drives, auto rides with bewildering frequency. Every want is anticipated and supplied. The days and nights are filled with entertainment. The people are as warm and sunshiny as the climate, and their welcomes and farewells as sweet as the Hawaiian songs that fill the air with softest music.

THE SANDWICH ISLANDS 29

We made a trip — it had to be by water — up to the great volcano, Mount Kilauea, on the island of Hawaii. It is a tempestuous and altogether disagreeable voyage to make. The winds are strong and the waters always rough between the islands. We landed at Hilo. From there we went up on a railroad, some forty miles, as I remember, and then traveled some hours by stage, through coffee and sugar plantations, amid the most beautiful flowers, shrubs and ferns, and across the rough craters of extinct volcanoes. The Volcano House, where visitors stop, is fairly comfortable, located about seven miles from the active crater, where the volcano makes her fascinating and terrifying displays. At Vesuvius and Aetna, other volcanoes I have visited, you cannot approach the very edge of the burning crater, to see down into the fiery gulfs below. At Kilauea you can reach the very verge, and look down into the awful pit upon the seething mass of molten lava that forever rolls and boils and spouts, a veritable lake of fire and brimstone. It's hell, all right, and no mistake.

Hilo is a pleasant city, but it is isolated, off from the main lines of travel and commerce, far removed from the great world and its many activities. We were beautifully entertained there, on one of the large sugar plantations by the manager, Mr. Scott, a most hospitable and charming gentlemen. He has a beautiful home and everything in it to make life pleasant — except company. At breakfast he called our attention to the interesting fact that nearly every article of food on the table was raised on the plantation. There were fruit, tea, coffee, milk, cream and sugar, eggs, meat and vegetables. As we drove away to take our ship to return to Honolulu, he invited us to come again, and a dainty little Japanese maid said, "Thank you, come me some more."

The tourist and the seeker after rest or pleasure will find Honolulu a most delightful place in which to spend the winter months. The climate, the scenery, the people, all combine to make a visit there one of exceeding interest and charm. After several enjoyable weeks there we left with much regret.

A beautiful custom obtains in Honolulu, in vogue nowhere else in the world. When "speeding the parting guests" they are loaded down with garlands of leaves and flowers called "leis." And when the friends have left the shore and are a little way out to sea, they throw the beautiful leis overboard, that winds and waves may waft them, laden with love, back to friends. On arrival at Honolulu the greeting is "Aloha," meaning "Love to you," and on departure the beautiful and fragrant leis bear love from shore to ship and waft it back again from ship to shore. And so numbers of our friends boarded the ship at our departure and almost smothered us with the lovely and fragrant leis hung about our heads and around our necks; and loaded with these sweet reminders we waved fond farewells as the great ship swung from her moorings and started on the long journey to Japan.

Chapter V

ARRIVAL IN JAPAN— INFORMATION AND MISINFOR- MATION—MY FIRST IMPRESSIONS— CLIMATE- POPULATION— EMIGRATION.

On the morning of March 26, 1907, our ship dropped anchor in the busy and beautiful harbor of Yokohama, only a short distance from the historic spot where, in 1853 Commodore Perry anchored his fleet, and by his persuasive arguments, backed by his threatening guns that frowned from his warships, induced the heretofore unknown and mysterious empire of Japan to open her ports to the world's commerce and civilization.

There has been so much written about Japan, so much information and misinformation, so many fairy and false tales told, so much of history and legend, so much of extravagant praise and undeserved criticism, so much superficial and silly gossip, and thorough and profound research, that I am bewildered and embarrassed in the attempt to give my impressions amid this wilderness of contradictions. I am fully aware that in a few months' sojourn, no matter how active one may be in observing the people and things, or how anxious to correctly represent them, one may form false judgments and fall into unfortunate errors. It is the work of years to write exhaustively and accurately the habits, beliefs and general characteristics and history of a nation. It is a double task when the stories of the long gone years are enveloped in the mysteries of antiquity. «

My only purpose is to tell briefly of what I have seen and heard and do know. Of the past I have little to say; of the future I have a few predictions to make. I report, as correctly as I can, present conditions and the character of the country, the government and the people as I have seen them.

The beauty of its natural scenery is marvelous beyond description. In scenic effects Japan has been to me most pleasingly disappointing. I have also been greatly impressed with the amiability and courtesy of its people to strangers and to one another, with their loyalty to their country and their love of kindred. In other respects I have been disappointed. I find more poverty and less comfort; more labor and less leisure; more beastly toil and less intelligent work; more ignorance and less education; more decay and less growth; more deception and less frankness; more of government control and less of individual liberty; more of ceremony and less sanctity; more gaudy display and ribald conduct and less true and genuine reverence — in short more of the Barbaric and less of the Civilized, more of the Old and less of the New, than I expected.

The climate of Japan, while possibly healthful, is not an agreeable one. It is subject to great extremes of heat and cold. In the summer there is a great deal of rain, and in the winter, natives tell me, the snowfall is extremely heavy. The springs, as a rule, are windy and raw and wet. The days when the sun shines are warm, but the nights and cloudy days are disagreeably cold and piercing. The amount of rainfall is surprising. The statistics for twenty-five years, from 1876- 1900, show at Tokio — and this is stated to be the driest section of the country — an average annual rainfall of over fifty-seven inches, and over 140 rainy days in the year. In the spring frequent high winds and storms prevail, which work great destruction to the grains and flowers. The most terrific hailstorm I ever witnessed occurred in Yokohama after the middle of April. It came at two o'clock in the afternoon, and the next morning piles of the stones that had been swept from the sidewalks and streets into the gutters had not yet been melted. Statistics show that from April to July, inclusive, nearly every other day is rainy; in March and August one day in three, and in September and October one day in every two; in the other months there is less rain.

Our stay was from March to September, and so I can speak from personal knowledge only of the weather in spring and summer. The spring of 1907 was wet and cold, unusually so, the residents stated. But I have discovered that wherever you travel, at home or abroad, and strike disagreeable weather, that you are solemnly assured by the natives that it is very exceptional. At Nikko we had a fire into the latter half of June. The summer, July and August, was extremely hot, even in the mountains, and terrific storms were not infrequent. The wicked typhoons that ravage the sea and wreck the shipping penetrate into the interior, and sometimes work frightful havoc. In Japan, as in other countries where there is much bad weather, the days that are pleasant are delightfully bright and fresh and charming— whether on the mountains, in the valleys, or at the seashore, there are days absolutely perfect in their freshness and beauty.