The Washington times., 1901-09-22
CAPE MALEA's HERMIT.
Pathetic Romance of a. Sailor
wrecked in Classic Sens

| Wrecked in Classic Seas.
There is one feature of Cape Malea that
| rarely fails to attract the notice of the
most careless voyager doubling 1t by day.
| a touch of human tragedy and pathos
| belonging in point of chronology to our
own time, but in universal interest to all
ages. At the extreme pitch of the cape
| stupendous cliff rises sheer from the fret
ting waves for about 100 feet. Then
/ comes an irregular plateau of shelf, OF
perhaps two acres in area. the mountain
rising again abruptly behind 1t TO
height of about 2,o00 feet. This plateau Is
| apparently inaccessible, and yet, perched
| upon huge boulder in its centre n mass
| of rock detached from the mountain ages
| ago is a house 1t is rudely built of
wooden fragments ingeniously htted TO-
/ Cether. but its outlines convey at once the
| idea of its designer having been an An
| gIo-Saxon 1t must be firmly built, too,
| for 1t is exposed to the full fury of winds
rebounding from the mountain face. and
the observer instinctively wonders why,
If a house must be built on that shelf. so
terribly exposed position was selected.
Then, If he be fortunate he Will hear its
story.
About twenty-five years ago there was
young sailor who by dint of hard work,
integrity of character, and firmness of
WILL reached at the age of twenty-six the
summit of his Notwithstanding master
of what would then be called n good-sized
steamship of some 900 tons register Upon
this accession to good fortune he married
the girl of his choice who had patiently
waited for him since as boy and girl
sweethearts they parted on his first going
to sea. And with rare complacency his
owners gave him the inestimable privilege
seq
him. How happy he wasi How deep and
all-embracing his pride as steaming down
the grimy Thames he explained to the
light of his eyes all the wonders that she
was now witnessing for the first time, but
which he had made familiar to her mind
by his oft-repeated sea stories during the
few bright days between voyages that he
had been able to devote to courtship. The
ship was bound to several Mediterranean
ports. tho time being late autumn, and
consequently the most ideal season for n
honeymoon that could possibly be imag-
ined. CadiZ, Genoa, Naples. Venice a, de-
lfghtful tour with not one weary moment
wherein to wish for something else. Even
a flying visit to old Rome from Naples
mad been possible, for the. two officers,
rejoicing in their happy young skippers
JOY, saw to it that no unnecessary cares
should trouble him, and bore willing tes-
timony in order that he should get as
much delight out Of those halcyon days as
possible that the entire crew were as
doctle as could be wished, devoted to their |
bright commander and his beautiful wife.
Then at Venice came orders to proceed to |
Galatz to load wheat for home.
Great was the giee of the girl-wife. |
She would see Constantinople and the |
Danube. Life would hardly be long |
enough to recount all the wonders of this |
most wonderful of wedding trips And |
they sailed, with hearts overbrimmng |
with joy as the blue sky above them |
seemed welling over with sunlight. Wind |
and weather favored them; nothing oc- l
Cured to cast a shadow over their happi- |
rtnc IaIA hot
fatal hour of the morning just before the !
dawn. when more collisions occur than at |
any other time. they We're run into by a |
blundering Greek steamer coming the |
other way, and cut down "a arnidshiIls to /
the waters edge. To their peaceful sleep
or quiet appreciation 'lf the nights sill |
ing flood. the hiss and roar of escaping |
steam, the suffocating embrace OF death. |
In that dread fight for life all perished |
but one. he so lately the. haRpiest of men,
fragment of wreckage. he had been wash
ed ashore under Cape Malea at the eb- /
bing of the scanty tide. and his strong
reasserting itself enabled him to !
the plateau. Here he was found gazing [
by some goatherds,. who. In
search of their nimble-footed foeks. had
down the precipifouS side Ofitbe !
mountain. They endeavored to persuade 4
him TO come with them back to- the world. 7
but in vain. He would live. gratefully ac-
ceptinR some OF tnelT poor pEuNiStDi.' Dul
from that watching place he would not +
go. And those rude peasants, understand
ing something of his depth of woe. sym
pathized with hirn so deeply that without
payment or hope of any. they helped
him to build his hut. and kept him sup
piled with such poor morsels of food and
drink as sufficed for his stunted needs
And there. with his gaze fixed during all
his waking hours upon that inscrutable
depth wherein all his bright hopes had /
suddenly been queuched. he lived until
quite recent years, the world forgetting
By the world forgot" living monument
Of constancy and patient. unoomplaining
grief BY his humble friends, whose Ian
guage he never learned he WIS regarded
as a saint. and when one day they came
upon him his lifeless body fallen forward
upon it's knees at the little unglazed win
low through which he was wont to look
JrIt upon the sea where his dear one lay,
-hev felt confirmed in their opinion of the
of the hermit of Cape Malea-
London Spectator.