Chapter 5

THE CITY OF ALGIERS.

On the morning of Tuesday, February seventeenth, the Moltke was speeding over a calm sea toward the coast of Africa. The tourists, after the strenuous sight-seeing of the past two days, luxuriously rested. Some lazily lounged in steamer chairs with pillows under their heads and gay blankets over them; others exchanged experiences with friends while sauntering slowly around the deck. Some in groups surrounded the card tables, playing or watching the games; while others read books from the shelves of the library, or gathered the latest home news from the columns of the London Times, or the Paris edition of the New York Herald, copies of which had been taken on board at Gibraltar.

During the afternoon, however, a north-east wind suddenly arose which stirred the blue waters of the Mediterranean until the short choppy waves gave to the vessel a new and peculiar roll, differing from any previously experienced by those on board. As a result, many of the passengers, not being able to adjust themselves to this unfamiliar change of motion, became suddenly pale, and prudently retired to the privacy of their staterooms. But by the time the evening dinner was served the wind had somewhat subsided, and the majority of the passengers gathered in the saloon for an entertainment in the form of a roll-call of states. This was presided over in a jolly manner by a prominent lawyer from Philadelphia. As he called the name of a state, some native of that state responded in a short informal address in which he praised his section of the country so highly that he made it appear to be a perfect El Dorado. There was but time to hear from seventeen states although representatives from almost every state in the Union and from Canada were present.

When the sun rose on Wednesday morning our steamer was anchored within the breakwater a short distance from the docks in the harbor of Algiers. A pleasant sight greeted our eyes when we came on deck. We saw a little white boat gliding over the waves flying the American flag, then two white steam launches speeding through the harbor with the same emblem floating in the breeze, while, over to the left, we descried at anchor three white gun boats, and hanging at their sterns our country's flag.

"Three cheers for the Stars and Stripes," cried an enthusiast, and the hurrahs were given earnestly and vigorously.

On the bulletin board we found the following notice posted:

PROGRAM FOR ALGIERS.

The Managers will furnish landing tickets to the tourists but all expenses while on shore in Algiers will be borne by each individual.

Carriages will be waiting on the docks for those who desire to ride, at their own expense, and a guide will be assigned to go with every four carriages.

Meals may be obtained by returning to the ship, and passengers are expected to return to the vessel at night.

"How shall we spend the day without a definite plan laid out for us?" said one of a group at the bulletin board.

"Let us take carriages with a guide as interpreter," suggested another, "and drive around the city during the morning, then buy our luncheon at a French restaurant, and spend the afternoon tramping around and visiting the shops."

"That will suit me, especially the shopping part; I want to buy some souvenirs," replied a third.

"And return hungry to the vessel in time for a good dinner in the evening," added a fourth.

Descending the ship's ladder, we placed ourselves in the care of the bronzed Arab boatmen, whose little boats had for some time been circling around the steamer, and were rowed to the custom house pier. Not having luggage to be examined, we fearlessly passed the red-trousered custom officials in the building and crossed the busy docks to the carriages in waiting.

At the docks many vessels were lying, and the wharves were filled with outgoing and incoming freight. Beyond the docks along the front of the city is a broad avenue, the Boulevard de la Republic, elevated forty or fifty feet above the wharves. This boulevard is supported on the sea side by solid white stone arcaded walls, and is reached by inclined roadways or by handsome stone stairways. On the land side it is lined with substantial white stone buildings of uniform height with an arcade in front.

The population of the city of Algiers, about 100,000, is composed principally of Moors, Arabs, Negroes, and other African nationalities, but with a large number of French, and many Hebrews, some Spanish, English, and other Continental representatives, and a few Americans. On its streets we saw faces of different colors ranging from pure white, through all the tints of brown, to the deepest black.

In the Place de Gouvernment, one of the centers of business and religious life of the city, we met turbaned Arabs, barefoot negroes, red-trousered soldiers, French civilians, American tourists, Hebrew traders, Kabyle mountaineers. In this motley crowd the native men and women especially attracted our attention. The Algerine men wore long white gowns fastened at the waist with a girdle; white cloaks, called bournous, around their shoulders; and white turbans of many folds on their heads. The richer classes were arrayed in spotless garments of fine material, stockings, and ornamented sandals; the laborers wore coarse gowns, and sandals made of rope; while the unclean bodies of importunate beggars and unfortunate cripples were but partially covered with filthy sacking and rags which hung upon them.

The Mohammedan women, wearing long bloomers made exceedingly full, and white mantles resembling sheets draped over their heads and falling loosely around their bodies, looked like ghosts as they walked through the streets. The white bandages or veils wrapped around their heads concealed all the features except the eyes, which appeared black and piercing. The Arab men may be able to distinguish the age of these veiled females, but it was difficult for us to tell which were old women, and which young, except by the elasticity of their movements.

Near the Place de Gouvernment is the imposing palace of the Governor where all official business is transacted. Adjoining the palace stands the handsome Roman Catholic Cathedral. A long flight of white marble steps leads up to the doors of the Cathedral and a spreading palm tree stands like a guard near the foot of the stairway. As we stood before the tomb of St. Geronimo in the interior of the Cathedral, we listened to the following tale told by our Catholic guide.

"A young man by the name of Geronimo, who lived in Italy about three hundred and fifty years ago, was captured by the Moors, and because he would not renounce the Christian religion, was condemned by his captors to death by torture. They tied his feet and hands with cords and threw him alive into a mould of soft concrete which slowly hardened around him, and the stone thus formed was built into the wall of a fortress then in course of construction. Fifty years ago, when the fortress was being demolished, the block of stone was discovered with the skeleton enclosed therein. The bones were carefully removed and interred in this Chapel in the tomb you see before you. Into the vacant space within the block of concrete, after removal of the bones, liquid plaster of Paris was poured, as into a mould, and a perfect model of Geronimo's body was obtained and placed in the Museum. It was in recognition of this act of heroism in refusing to renounce the Christian faith that the martyr was canonized and the name of Geronimo was added to the calendar of the saints of our Church."

In confirmation of the guide's story, the plaster of Paris model of the dead martyr's body may be seen among the curiosities and antiquities in the National Museum, a short distance from the Cathedral. This model shows the features, the clothing, and the cords which tied his feet and hands.

The main business part of the city is not only modern but model, having clean, well paved streets lined with substantial white stone four-story buildings with arcades or covered pavements in front of them. As very little smoke or soot rises from the city the white buildings have not become soiled and darkened but retain their freshness and purity of color.

Many of the stores we visited were kept by Arabs who understood French but could speak only a few words of English. The prices named by these merchants were generally two or three times more than they expected customers to pay, and it was very amusing to watch the process of a sale. A price was named by the dealer; a bid was made by the customer; then figuring, explaining, and dickering went on in a mixture of languages and signs until finally, if the buyer's patience did not wear out, the deal closed with a compromise. When the purchaser departed happy with a bargain, the dealer also appeared well satisfied, and if the same buyer returned to the store after once making a purchase, the Arab merchant would recognize and welcome him with most gracious smiles as if he were one of his warmest friends.

In these shops there was offered for sale such a varied and attractive assortment of oriental wares, that by evening the tourists were laden with packages. Handsome silk rugs, embroidered silk waists, curiously carved Algerine weapons, brightly colored leather goods, articles of hammered brass or copper, silver filagree work, ornaments of silver and gold, trinkets of ivory, coral and pearl, fans, photographs, and picture postal cards purchased during the day, were stored away in staterooms as souvenirs of Algiers.

At the market stands were fruits and vegetables in abundance. The dates offered were especially pleasing in appearance and quality. The bread dealers, we noticed, sold bread by weight, and added or cut off chunks and slices in order to give the exact weight wanted by customers.

The beggars did not trouble us very much by their importunities, although they were to be seen everywhere in filth and rags. Street peddlers, however, were persistent in offering wares and trinkets for sale, and bright Arab boys, who had learned a few sentences of English ran after us offering their services as guides.

The coffee shops which we saw while passing through the streets were as numerous in Algiers as beer saloons in an American city. As the Mohammedan religion forbids the use of alcoholic liquors, the Arab followers of Mahomet appeared to be satisfying their craving for stimulants by drinking strong black coffee and by drinking it often. In the cafés, which are open in front, allowing all that goes on inside to be visible from the street, and on the benches outside the shops, we saw the customers sitting crosslegged slowly imbibing this favorite beverage from tiny cups. It was plainly apparent that in this warm climate where there is no haste, numberless hours are dreamed away on the benches of these cafés.

When we left the modern part of the city and ascended the avenues which lead up the hill toward the older portion we found the streets diminishing in width until they were only passageways from six to ten feet wide, bordered by high buildings with blank walls showing no windows below, but with projecting windows above which almost meet overhead. In some of these steep, narrow, crooked streets there are little shops about the size of a large closet in which the merchant, sitting crosslegged on bench or cushion, can reach his goods and wait on his customer without rising or interfering with the enjoyment of his pipe. As the narrow thoroughfares are not wide enough for carriages, we had to walk through them with a guide. We were not favorably impressed with the odors nor with the sight of the filth in the streets and were glad when the guide turned from the gloom and foulness of the ancient Moorish streets and led us again toward the bright and attractive avenues of the modern city.

The electric street cars are divided into two compartments; the first class having thin cushions on the seats, and the second class having wooden seats without cushions. The natives save the extra penny of fare by crowding into the second class, thus giving to the first class passengers the advantage of always having enough room. In the second class, however, the tourists had a more favorable opportunity to study the people. Opposite us in one of the second class compartments which we entered sat two veiled women in their voluminous white bloomers and wrappings. We could see that one was old by the fact that she leaned upon a staff, and we decided that the other was young because she showed some curiosity. Sitting near us was a little black haired Arab girl with a chunk of dry bread in her hand, at which she was gnawing greedily. In a corner seat a meek looking nun in black gown and wide spreading stiff bonnet was counting the beads of her rosary as quietly as if alone in her devotions.

"Look," said one, as we were leaving the car, "there is the 'Thomson and Houston' stamp on the motor."

"Yes," responded another, "American products appear to be well represented in this French colony."

On the main business thoroughfare we had noticed warerooms where 'Singer' sewing machines are sold; at an agency of the 'Eastman Company' we had restocked our kodaks with films; and we could not avoid seeing on a large sign, in letters that could be read a block away, the words 'American Dentist.' Consequently when we passed the American Consulate it was with a feeling of pride that we saluted the National Emblem which was floating gracefully in the breeze.

In the Rue de Marine we saw an old structure of large dimensions with a long row of plain white marble columns in front, which, from its appearance, might be mistaken for an old warehouse. We were told by a Moslem guard, who fortunately understood our inquiry and was able to answer our questions in English, that the building is the Mosque El Tebir, the Great Mosque, and that we might enter subject to certain regulations.

"You must remove your shoes," said he, "or wear slippers over your shoes. You must also pay a small entrance fee."

In the vestibule, the door-keepers of the Mosque selected slippers from an assortment of different sizes which they kept for visitors' use and tied these over our shoes with tapes. We were then permitted to enter and wander around the interior over the handsome Persian rugs which cover the stone floor.

"The Moslems regard their Mosques as very sacred places consecrated to the worship of Allah, and they will not permit any profanation of their sanctuary," cautioned one of our party, a Presbyterian minister, seeing that we were inclined to make fun of the slippers. "The Moslems remove their shoes and enter the place of worship with reverence, and they expect us to behave in a respectful manner."

"The removal of the shoes at the entrance to a place of worship," continued the minister in explanation, "is an immemorial Eastern custom based on the words: 'And he said, Draw not nigh hither; put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground,' and also on the words: 'And the captain of the Lord's hosts said unto Joshua, Loose thy shoe from off thy foot; for the place whereon thou standest is holy. And Joshua did so.' We should remember that the Mohammedan faith is based on the Old Testament, though supplemented by the instructions of Mahomet."

In this ancient Mosque, where the worship of Allah and the study of the Koran has continued for nine hundred years, we found a few barefoot worshipers, some kneeling muttering their prayers, while others squatted on the floor reading the Koran aloud. At one end of the interior we saw the niche which indicates the direction in which lies the Holy City of Mecca, and toward this, as is the custom in all Mohammedan mosques, the worshipers turn their faces while at prayer. There were no benches or chairs in the mosque, as the devotees assumed a crosslegged position on the thick rugs during the time of their reading, and stood or knelt while offering prayer.

The Jardin d'Essai, or Botanical Garden, situated in the suburbs near the sea about two miles from the center of the city, is reached by an electric street car of American make which for a three-cent fare carried us to the gates. In the garden the large and varied collection of tropical trees, plants, and vines, so different from those growing in our own temperate climate, greatly delighted us. An "Avenue of Palms" half a mile long was lined with palm trees of many varieties, some wide-spreading and curiously branching has broad leaves, and others, high-growing, has tufted tops swaying in the air fifty or sixty feet above our heads. A wider avenue of similar length was bordered with magnolia trees of immense growth which we then saw only in bud, but it was not difficult to see in imagination the magnificent picture that would be presented to the eye, when later on, these millions of buds overhead would be in full bloom. The "Bamboo Pathway" led through a dense growth of bamboos whose slender poles, bending under a slight breeze, kept up a continual creaking sound. Huge trees, whose wide-spreading branches were supported by scores of accessory trunks, so that each tree formed a grove of its own, we recognized as banyan trees. In one part of the garden, winding paths led through a tangled tropical growth so dense and wild that one felt as if in the midst of an African jungle where a tiger might spring forth or a boa constrictor drop down on one's head.

On the heights to the east, in the favorite modern residential district, called Mustapha Superieur, many large white stone hotels and apartment houses were situated amid gardens of glossy-leaved orange and lemon trees. Palms, plane, and pepper trees lined the clean, wide avenues; green terraces beautified the hillside gardens; and villas were almost hidden from sight by the climbing roses and luxuriant vines with clusters of purple racemes.

"Many of these villas," said the guide, "are owned by wealthy English and French families who spend the winters here. The mild climate and uniform temperature of our city makes this place a favorite winter resort not only for invalids, but for those who desire to get away from the damp fogs and harsh winds of more northern climates."

"Our city is noted for two views which we think are unsurpassed," he continued, as the driver reined in his team on a summit. "One is this which we now look down upon of city, harbor, sea, and villages near and distant along the shore. The other, you already have seen from the deck of the vessel, yet at sunset you will find that panorama of the city, villages, heights and mountains even more beautiful."

While we were exploring the city, the officers on the steamer were engaged in directing the taking on of fresh supplies of coal, water, and provisions, which had been purchased at Algiers. During the two days the Moltke lay in the harbor fifteen hundred tons of coal were carried in baskets on the shoulders of Arabs from barges into the hold of the vessel, a slow method of delivering compared with the rush of the steam scoops in New York harbor where three thousand tons were dumped into the bunkers in a few hours' time. Fresh water also was brought from shore in tank barges and pumped from these into the tanks on the steamer. The quantity of fresh water required at this port cost the steamship company, so the engineer informed us, a sum equal to four hundred dollars. Also great quantities of fresh fruits and vegetables were received on board, one of the most welcome things thus added to our bountiful bill of fare being the tender green artichoke which in Algiers grows to perfection.

On Thursday afternoon a reception was held on the Moltke and our band gave a most enjoyable musical program for the occasion. Hundreds of well dressed, courteous French ladies, gentlemen, and children, and some French officials in uniforms, came on board to visit the vessel which was thrown wide open for their examination. Some of the officers of the naval vessels also came to the reception and extended a cordial invitation to the tourists to visit the gunboats. This invitation was accepted by some who were willing to spare the time for that purpose.

"Less than one hundred years ago Algiers was a country of pirates," said one of the officers to a group of tourists, "and Algerine corsairs flying the black flag infested the Mediterranean coast. Like birds of prey they pounced upon the merchant vessels of other nations, confiscating the cargoes, seizing seamen and passengers, and burning the ships. They cast thousands of captives into dungeons and demanded heavy ransoms for their release. They sent many thousands to the markets to be sold,--the men to be degraded to slavery, the women, praying for death, to be dragged away to harems of their purchasers. Among the captives held for ransom were many Americans. But you are familiar with all this ancient history."

"No, we are not," replied one of the ladies; "I may have read it but if so, it has slipped from my mind. Why, we have gone about the city feeling as safe and secure from harm and insult as we did in our home cities."

"And you were as safe in Algiers during the day time as you would be in Paris, London, or New York. I should advise you, though, to keep off the streets of this and all Oriental cities after nightfall. We may be proud to remember that the United States was one of the first countries to stop paying ransoms and to administer a salutary reproof. In June of the year 1815 our Commodore Decatur sailed into this harbor and sent a message to the Dey of Algiers demanding the release of all Americans then held in captivity, threatening to bombard the city if the prisoners were not set free. The Dey after some demur yielded through fear of bombardment and liberated all the Americans; but sent a message to the Commodore requesting that a tribute in the shape of powder be given him in exchange for the captives. 'If the Dey wants powder, he must take the balls with it,' Decatur bravely replied. After that the merchant vessels flying the American flag were not molested. The great destruction of ships and the capture of Europeans continued until France, highly exasperated, determined that it must be stopped, and the Moors punished. An expedition was sent to Algiers and the country was conquered in the year 1830, since then Algiers has been a French colonial possession."

Just as the sun was dropping below the horizon filling the air with a golden light, the anchor was slowly raised. A number of the French people who had been visitors to the Molkte were in a steam launch near by waiting to see our departure.

"Adieu," "Adieu," "Bon voyage," were the parting salutations, as the French ladies waved handkerchiefs and the French men raised their hats.

As the warships were passed, "Three cheers for the Red, White, and Blue" were given with a will amid waving hats, handkerchiefs, and small flags, and our greeting was answered by the lowering and raising of the Stars and Stripes on board the warships. Then our great ship steamed slowly out of the harbor, passing the forts which at the extremities of the moles guarded the entrance, and the lighthouse whose strong, steady light was just beginning to shine.

As we entered the open sea we looked back with regret at the scene of beauty behind us. Vessels flying flags of many nationalities lay at anchor in the harbor or at the piers. Above the handsome white stone docks on the sloping hillside rose the clean-looking white city. On the hill to the right far away in bold relief stood the Church of our Lady of Africa. To the left, as far as the eye could reach, along the shore of the bay beyond the city, were clusters of Moorish houses, white villages, and green plains, and on the heights above, white villas and hotels in the midst of green foliage. In the distance rose a range of high hills, and far beyond the gray peaks of the Atlas Mountains bounded the horizon.

No picturing of that scene can show the beauty of the view there presented to our eyes. But he who has visited Algiers will never forget the soft harmonizing colors of blue sky, white and yellow buildings, green foliage, and gray background.