62 
FOREST AND STREAM 
February, 1921 
DOCTOR HENSHALL IN POMPEII 
THE AUTHOR OF THE “ BOOK OF THE BLACK BASS ” FINDS MUCH 
TO INTEREST HIM IN MANY FAMOUS CITIES OF THE OLD WORLD 
TWENTY-SECOND PAPER 
J UST before Judjje Nicholas Long- 
worth and I departed on our trip 
through the interior of Greece we 
had dined aboard the Pensacola, the 
flagship of the Mediterranean squadron, 
under the command of Admiral Frank- 
lin. We were the guests of our friend 
Captain George Dewey, the commander 
of the Pensacola, who was later to 
become the Hero of Manila and the Ad- 
miral of the Navy. The Pensacola was 
an old frigate with auxiliary steam 
equipment, and was to sail for the 
United States the following August, it 
then being April, and I had promised 
Dewey to go home with him, but owing 
to later instructions he did not return 
until the following spring. At that 
time Captain Dewey and I were about 
the same size and weight, and each had 
a gray mustache and gray hair, and 
owing to this resemblance I had been 
mistaken for him several times while 
wandering about the city of Athens. 
On the night after our return from 
our trip through the interior of Greece, 
we attended the theater and witnessed 
a good performance of the Barber of 
Seville. Across the auditorium and di- 
rectly opposite to our box was the 
royal box in which were the Queen and 
her three sons, George, Constantine and 
a younger one. We noticed that we 
were evidently the subject of some con- 
tention among them, as they leveled 
their opera-glasses in our direction, and 
nodded and shook their heads, and were 
seemingly not mutually convinced as to 
our identity. 
On the next day we dined by appoint- 
ment with our Minister to Greece, Mr. 
Fearn, of New Orleans, and his hand- 
some wife and accomplished daughters. 
Another guest was our friend Captain 
Dewey. During the dinner, Dewey, ad- 
dressing us said: 
“Were you fellows at the opera last 
night?” Being answered in the affirma- 
tive, he continued: “Of course. I went 
to the Palace this morning to pay my 
respects to the King and Queen, as we 
sail for Leghorn to-morrow, and while 
there the Queen remarked that two of 
my officers were at the opera last night, 
and added that at first she thought one 
of them was myself; I assured her, 
however, that they were friends of 
mine from the United States.” 
The next day we went to Piraeus Har- 
bor, five miles from Athens, and board- 
ed the steamer for Constantinople. Be- 
fore sailing we saw the Pensacola 
steam out for Leghorn, and an hour 
later our ship sailed for Turkey. Soon 
after entering the Dardanelles we came 
to Abydos, the narrowest part, where it 
is related that Leander nightly swam 
across to Sestos to meet his sweetheart 
Hero, the lovely priestess. Many cent- 
uries later Lord Byron, emulating Le- 
ander, also swam across the narrow 
channel, and in a little poem befitting 
the occasion alluded to it in this wise, 
Byronically speaking: 
“But since he crossed the rapid tide, 
According to the doubtful story. 
To woo-and-Lord knows what beside, 
And swam for love, as I for glory.” 
After sailing through the Sea of 
Marmora we entered the Bosphorus and 
soon arrived at Constantinople. 
C ONSTANTINOPLE, with its pal- 
aces, villas, mosques, domes and 
cupolas, interspersed with cypress 
and yew, when viewed from the Bos- 
phorus or from Scutari, opposite, is the 
finest and handsomest city in the world ; 
and one who has an eye for artistic 
effect and scenic beauty, would better 
let it go at that and forego entering 
the dark and dirty city with its steep 
and narrow streets, infested, as they 
were during our visit, by thousands of 
homeless dogs. These dogs were the 
A fossilized man from Pompeii 
scavengers of the city, and the ugly, 
yellow curs had full possession of the 
courts and streets, where they slept and 
sunned themselves by day, and roamed 
about at night in search of garbage, 
and made night hideous with barking. 
Constantinople, then, was the third 
largest city in the world with a popu- 
lation of more than a million, one-third 
being Christians of various nationali- 
ties and denominations, who occupied 
the principal portion of the city known 
as Pera and Galata. Along the Bos- 
phorus, close to the edge of the water, 
are palaces, forts, villas and gardens, 
and the water being many fathoms deep 
the largest battleship could be safely 
moored alongside; and the splendid 
harbor of the Golden Horn might ac- 
commodate the largest navy afloat. 
Plying along the water front were fine 
and fast pleasure steamers, running be- 
tween the Sea of Marmora and the 
Black Sea, and many thousands of 
caiques, a shallow hybrid between a 
canoe and a gondola, skimmed the blue 
water all day long. 
The city is built on a steep hillside, 
crowned at the top by cemeteries em- 
bowered in cypress and yew. Except in 
the principal streets, carrages were 
seldom seen, and everything seemed to 
be carried from the water front to the 
hotels and stores by low, squat Turkish 
porters, who possessed great strength. 
With a shelf-like pad between their , 
shoulders I have seen them with two 
trunks on their backs and with a port- 
manteau in each hand climb the steep 
ascent without pausing to rest. 
Stamboul, across the Golden Horn, is 
the real Turkish Constantinople, where 
may be seen the tombs of the Sultans, 
palaces, many mosques and Turkish an- 
tiquities, but the streets are dirty and 
squalid, and the houses small and 
crowded. The famous Seraglio occupies 
a space of a mile or more in extent, and 
is shut in by high walls and towers, the 
principal gate being the Sublime Porte 
which gives its name to the Ottoman 
Empire. In a public square near the 
old Hippodrome are some demolished 
statues and columns, and here may 
also be seen the Golden Tripod that once 
spanned the fissure of Mt. Parnassus, 
the seat of the Pythian Oracle. On the 
south side of the Bosphorus is Scutari, 
where the gilded dome of the renowned 
mosque of the St. Sophia looms up as a j 
landmark for many miles around. But j 
none of the mosques of Constantinople 
can compare with those of Cairo for 
beauty, wealth or magnificence. 
Of course we went to see the Der- 
vishes, both whirling and .howling. 
Dervish is Arabic for “fakir”, and fa- 
kirs they surely were. The whirling 
dervish is dressed in a loose gray skirt, 
reaching the knees, with a tight waist. 
He whirls or spins in one spot, like a 
top or human teetotum for minutes at 
a time, his skirt standing out like an 
inflated balloon. It was a very poor 
show at best to a foreign devil, but to 
the natives it was a solemn and awe- 
some thing. The howling dervishes per- 
formed in a kind of theater with a 
gallery in the rear for strangers, and 
latticed galleries for the native women. 
The howling dervishes, fifteen or 
twenty in number, were lined up against 
the rear wall of the stage, and facing 
the audience, swayed from side to side 
with a uniform movement, while they 
recited in unison a syncopated chant, 
for an hour or two. When one began 
to tire, or was overcome with the ex- 
citement, another soon took his place,, 
and among others were one or two stout 
porters. I had seen much better per- 
formances at a southern negro camp 
meeting. At the conclusion of the 
stunt, op during an intermission, some 
sick babies were laid in a row upon the 
floor, which were to be healed by an 
officiating priest, who was to walk on 
their bodies. But I noticed that he was 
supported by two salwart assistants, 
one on either side, who held him up so 
that only his toes touched the bodies of 
the infants, and apparently they were 
none the worse for the illusion, though 
there seemed to be some commotion be- 
hind the latticed shutters of the women’s 
quarters during the performance. 
