YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY c. :/j? ?/?zM/i /"f'/K/WU'^mujM'. ci\ /fi-<«-^^t^^. NEW PALACE or TIIE SUI.TAN ON THE DOSniOIlU.S. CONSTANTINOPLE OF TO-DAY. FOU.ST*IK OF SULTVN SEnsf, By Theophile Gautirh. LONDON : DAVID BOGUE, 80, FLEET STKEET. CONSTANTINOPLE OF TO-DAY. By Theophile Gautier. TRANSLATED PROM THE FRENCH, Bt EOBEBT HOWE GOULD, Esq., M.A. n,LU8TRATET) WITH ENOBATINOS FROM PHOTOOBAPHIC PICTnRP.S, LONDON : DAVID BOGUE, 86, FLEET STREET. i.ONr.ON ; DENRY TIZETELLT, PRINTElt AND ENGRAVER, GOUGH SaUAEE, FLEET STREET. PREEAOE. It is with travellers as with artists : — Many artists may paint the same landscape, and paint it with fidelity ; yet no two shall present it in the same light, or from the same point of view. Each will portray it in his own way ; but still, if among the whole number, there lurk the eye and the hand of the master, they will display themselves. He will show the landscape in its happiest light, and imder its most effective aspect. Thus, in those descriptions of scenes and adventures, which make up a " book of travels," no two writers will treat the same subject aUke ; and, on the other hand, how ever famiUar the subject, the man of genius will tlirow a fresh light upon it, bring out points before undetected, and give, in fact, the master-touch to that which, in other hands, had been tame and lifeless. Among Erench writers of travels, Th6ophile Gautier holds the highest rank; and much as has been written about Turkey, his work wiU still be found replete with interest, with originality of thought, force of description, and elegance of language. a2 4 PREFACE. One peculiarity, however, which will early impress the reader, is, the pre-eminently pictorial nature of his style. He writes, as it were, with the pencil of a painter; and dips his pen in the colours of the palette, rather than in the sombre and monotonous depths of the ink-stand. Perhaps no writer ever wrote, to whose eye everything, animate and inanimate, so promptly resolved itself into colour and form, and was, in that view,, so rapidly and skilfully transferred to the paper. But powerful as this faculty is with Gautier, it is, perhaps, indulged almost to excess ; for he not only paints man and beast, rock and river, mountain and sea, sky and cloud, but almost re duces human intellect and emotion to the same mode of illustration, and gives colour and outline to thought and feeling. I venture to offer these observations, because they are preliminary to a few words, declaratory of the great diffi culty, attendant upon the task of properly translating a writer whose peculiarities of style are so marked as those of Gautier. That style is purely and pre-eminently Gallic; and those peculiarities adapt themselves to the idioms and phraseology of the French language, with a nicety, which renders them only the more difficult to ren der effectively into English. I have not, therefore, attempted a verbal translation, uor adhered slavishly to the exact phraseology of the ori ginal. Should any one do me the honour to read this book, who also knows it in the French, he will find that I have, at least, attempted to do hetter than give the bare PREFACE. & words of the author ; — that I have sought to transfuse his spirit and meaning into the English version ; aud instead of adhering to mere phrases, which the difference in the genius of the two languages would rob of half their force, have sought to say in English what the author wo^uld have said, had he written in that language, instead of in the tongue which he, better even than most Frenchmen, knows how to render at once forcible and elegant. The result of my efforts I leave to the indulgence of the public, with the consciousness of having done my best to deserve their approval, and the satisfaction of know ing, at least, that the work itself has merits, which even an inferior translation cannot altogether conceal. THE TEANSLATOR. The Engravings that illustrate this Volume, havo heen copied from Photographic Pictures hy Robertson, kindly lent for this purpose by the Proprietors of the Photographic Institution, 168, New Bond Street. CONTENTS. FACE I. At Sea - - 9 II. Malta . 2,5 III. Syra - . - 39 IV. Smtrna . - 64 V. The Troad. — The Dardanelles - - - 08 VI. The Golden-Horn 82 VII. A Night of the Ramadan - - 93 VIII. The Capes - - . 105 IX. The Shops 113 X. The Bazaars - - 122 XI. The Dancing Dervishes 134 XII. The Ho-wling Dervishes 145 XIII. The Cemf.tery of Scutari 168 XIV. Karagheuz - 170 8 CONTENTS. F^aB XV. The Sultan at the MosauE. — ^A Turkish Dinner 181 XVI. The "Women . . - . 195 XVII. The Termlntation op the Fast - - 208 XVIII. The "Walls of Constantinople 222 XIX. Jewish Quarter. — Greek Quarter. — Turkish Bath - - . - 234 XX. The Bairam 246 XXI. The Charlemagne. — Fires - - 259 XXII. Saint-Sophl4..— The MosauBS - - 273 XXIII. The Seraglio . . - . 287 XXIV. Palace of the Bosphorus. — MosauE op Mah moud. — The Dervish - 298 XXV. The Atmeidan - - - 308 XXVI. The Elbioei-Atika - 319 XXVII, Kadi-Keui - 327 XXVIII. Mount Bougourlou. — The Isles of Princes 337 XXIX The Bosphorus - - 348 XXX. Buyuk-Debe. — Sweet-waters op Europe 357 CONSTANTINOPLE. " Who has drunken, will drink ;" — so the proverb assures us — and it is easy to modify tbe formula, and say, with certainly no less truth," Who has travelled, will travel." The thirst of sight-seeing, like natural thirst, is often augmented rather than quenched by indulgence. Thus, behold me at Constantinople, and already I dream of Egypt, of Cairo, of Spain, Italy, Africa, England, Belgium, Holland, a part of Germany, Switzerland, and the Greek Isles, and certain ports on thc Asiatic coast ; my visits to which, at various epochs, and with divers renewals, have simply augmented this thirst for world wide vagabondage. Travel is a dangerous element to introduce into our course of life, for it disturbs it profoundly, and creates an habitual impatience of inaction ; and, in the case of a projected journey accidentally .delayed, a restlessness, comparable only to that exhibited by bii'ds of passage, made prisoners at the moment of migration. He who proposes to travel, well knows that he is about to expose himself to fatigue, to privations, to annoyances ; B 10 CONSTANTINOPLE. nay, even to dangers ; that he must forego his cherished habits, and the accustomed interchange of thought and affection ; he must abandon his family, his friends, his relatives, and all the sweet intimacies of home, for the distant and the unknown ; and yet, one feels it impossible to pause, or to resist this restless instinct ; and even those who love you, seek not to prevent your journey, but silently clasp your hand from the step of the carriage. And truly, is .it not right to traverse somewhat the surface of this planet, upon which we, in turn, aro travei's- ing immensity, until the mysterious Author shall transport us to some new world, there to peruse another page of the Eterual Volume ? Is it not a culpable indolencfe, to be al\va)'s spelling the same word without ever tur ling the leaf ? What poet would be content with a rea der, who should peruse but one of his stanzas ? Thus, e" 'ery year, instead of nailing myself, by an assumed necessity, to one spot, I read a page, a country of this vast Universe, which seems less vast and immeasurable as I go over lit; and, as it disengages itself from the vague cosmogm,- pliics of the iraagination, takes more definite force arid localisation. Without going actually to the Holy Sepui, chre, to St. James of Compostella, or to Mecca, I make, nevertheless, a pious pilgrimage to those spots of Earth, where the beauty of the scene renders God most visible. This time, I sh,ill behold Turkey and Greece, and snatch a glimpse of that helleiiic Asia, wherc beauty of outline and form is gilded by the surpassing splendours of the Sun of the Orient. But let us close this short preface — the shortest are ever the best — aud put ourselves en route without more delay. If I were a Chinese or an Indian, arriving from Nankin or Calcutta, I should describe to j'ou Avitli care and pro- -AT SEA. 11 lixity the road from Paris to Marseilles ; the railwaj' of Chalons, the Saone, the Rhone, and Avignon. But J'OU know them as well as I do ; and besides, really to travel in a country, it is necessary to bc a stranger — the comparison of differences produces remarks. Which of us Frenchmen would observe, that, in France, a gentleman gives his arm to a lady ? And yet, this is a peculiarity which would strangely " astonish the natives" in the Celestial Empire. Scarcely less, indeed, than would the Chinese mode of salutation — where two gentlemen, at meeting, " rub noses" together — amaze the passengers in one of our crowded streets ! Suppose, then, without goiug through the process of transition, that I am on the quay, and that thc Leonidas has her steam up for Constantinople. The South declares itself aheady, by a bright sunshine, which warms the flag stones, or sets a-chirping the hundreds of exotic birds, in the cages which hang in front of the stalls or shops ofthe numerous bird-fanciers. These little people flap their wings, and gaily give forth their choicest melodies, de luded by the wannth iuto a belief that they arc at home again. Multitudes of little raonkeys are also capering about their cages, or pausing to scratch their hairy sides, with a certain grotesque gravity ; regarding you, mean while, with their almost human eyes, or offering you, amicably, their little cold hands, through the bars of their habitations ; careless as yet of that consumption, which will by-and-by make them cough and wheeze in beds of wad ding, among the wintry saloris of Paris. Only the frigid turtles seem insensible to the vivifying rays of this sum mer-like sun. In less than forty-eight hours, I have passed from pouring rain, and leaden skies, to a blazing noontide, and a sky of stainless azure. I have left winter beliind me, B 2 12 COKSTANTINOPLE. and found summer, ardent and glowing. I am about to take an ice ; an idea which would have congealed me the day before yesterday, on the Boulevard de Gand. I enter the " Cafe lure." I owe it to myself, to give preference to the Turkish cafe, because I am bound for Constantinople. By my faith, it is a superb cafe ! But at present, I will not talk to you about it as such ; despite its profuse magnificence of mirrors, of gilding, of colonnades, multiplied by reflection, and arcades rendered intermin able by the same optical delusion ; or of that one exqui site saloon, which, decorated ^with pictures exclusively Marseillaise, forms a sort of local museum, at once curious and interesting. , Some of my readers may have encountered the droll remarks made by M. Mery upon Marseilles, and the me lancholy look of the fountains, which endeavoured, by the mere power of architecture, to hide the awkward fact, that tJicy were not supplied with water. At present, however, the water-works being completed, every villa about Marseilles prides itself upon a basin and a fountain ; and there are those, who push the matter to the fatuity of a water-flill ! Marseilles will soon be encircled with a crowd of Versailles, Saint Clouds, and Marlys, in miniature ; and before long, I greatly fear that these superb plains, calcined by sunlight, these noble rocks of rich brown, will be covered with vegetation by dint of irrigation ; and that masses of "green spinach," — that delight uf pro prietors, and terror of landscape painters — will sujipiy the place of this glowing and sparkling aridity. But, como on ! The anchor is up ; the jimldles strike the water. Behold us gping out of the harbour. We pass the shores, escarped, barren, and naked, liku those of the other coast of the Mediterranean. I know not if it has been remarked, but Marseilles and its environs are mucli AT SEA. 13 more "southern" in their character, than their latitude would seem to warrant. You have thcrc African asjiects, rough aud warm as those of Algiers itself; and the physiog nomy of the South disjilays itself in an emphatic manner. Many countries, situated five or si.\ hundred miles farther south, have an air much more northern. This line of craggy nnd broken rocks, ofwhich the base plunges into a sea ofthe deepest blue, opens occasionally, and gives a glimpse of the distant town surrounded by its villas, which dot the landscape with a thousand spots of purest white, and render the whole aspect tropical. As we proceed, we meet here and there a few ships with swelling sails, making towards the harbour, which they hope to reach before nightfall ; these lose them selves in the receding distance, and solitude begins to bc felt. Thc shores disappear, the large waves begin to heave beneath the ship ; and all around, there is to be seen only the sea and the sky. Some light crests of fleecy foam, known in French as moutons (sheep), float at in tervals upon the blue pasturage of the waters. An ancient poet would have seen in these marine " sheep," the herds of Proteus. The sun, unaccompanied by a single cloud, plimges in thc west like a ball of fire, and appears to smoke as it sinks in the water. The night comes — a mooniess night — a salt dew falls upon the deck, and penetrates one's clothing with its^ acrid humidity. Cigars fall slowly in aslies, sraoked by lips where nausea threatens to declare itself at the flrst plunge which the vessel may give a little too severely or inconsiderately. The passengers go below, one by one, and accommodate themselves as they best can, in the chests of drawers which sei-v-e them for beds. Although rocked by the waves, more regularly than ever was infant by its nurse, you do not necessarily sleep the better for it ; and you dream the 1-1 CONSTANTINOPLE. most extravagant dreams, broken into fragments by the perpetually-recurring sound of the bell, which strikes the hours and marks the quarters for the crew. With the first glimpse of dawn I am astir. Nothing still to be seen but the circle of two or three leagues, of which the vessel is the centre, that moves as she moves ; and which, by a stale conventionality, we are accustomed to style the " immense expanse of ocean," and the type of the Infinite ; although I do not well know why, for the horizon which we grasp from the height of the smallest tower, or the most insignificant mountain, is by far the more vast. The day breaks fully, and on the left the captain indi cates land, which he says is Corsica. I can see, although with a glass, only a light mist, with difficulty distinguish able from the pale tints ofthe morning sky. But the captain was right. The vessel proceeds ; the gray vapour con denses itself ; it closes up ; the undulations of mountains become perceptible ; certain points grow clearer ; touches of yellow mark the naked escarpements ; masses of black indicate the forests and the spots darkened by vegetation. To the north, near that point, should be the Isola-Rossa ; farther on that mass of chalky whiteness is Ajaccio. But the ship is sailing at too great a distance from the island (which vexes me much), to permit me to discern anything in detail. We coast thus, for the whole day, at distance, this Corsica, energetic and savage ; with manners poetically ferocious ; with eternal feuds ; but which " progress" will soon render similar in character to the environs of Paris, or any other locality most commonplace and fi^miliar. This would be the place in which to introduce a bril liant episode about Napoleon ; but I prefer to avoid this beaten track, and simply allow myself to remark, in pass ing, the singular influence which islands seem to have ex- AT SEA, 10 ercised over the career and destiny of this hero, already almost fabulous ; and the legends and traditions respect ing whom, we see formed under our own eyes, instead of deriving them from our ancestors, — as in the case of heroes of whom they in turn were contemporaries. / A.n island ! gave birth to Napoleon ; — arrested in his career, he seeks shelter in an island, and from that island returns again to shake the world with the thunder of his tread ; — fallen, he is sent from an island, to die on an island, killed by an island power. He issues from the sea, to begin his course ; and that course fulfilled, sinks again in the ocean. What ' myth may not the future found upon these curious coin cidences, when ephemeral history shall have disappeared, and given place to immortal poetry ! But just now, we see the " seven monks ; " being seven peaks of rock, having the appearance of capuchins hooded and ranged in file; and now we approach the nnnow strait which separates Corsica from Sardinia, on the side of Bonifaccio. , " Grfece qu'on connait trop ; Sardaigne qu'on ignore." A very narrow channel divides these two islands ; which plainly have formed but one, before the action of floods and volcanic convulsions tore them asunder. It is easy to see distinctly the shore of each countiy, as j-ou pass ; you see on both sides hills boldlj' escarped and almost mountainous in elevation, but without graudeur ; some occasional houses with yellow walls and tiled roofs sprinkling the shore, which without this would resemble that of a deserted island — for there is no trace of culture — and two or three vessels with lateen sails, sailing like sea- mews from oue coast to the other. On the Sardinian coast, some one points out the prin cipal curiositj- of the locality ; namely, a singular aggre- 16 CONSTANTINOPLE. gation of rocks, on the summit of a hill, forming with re markably exactitude, by their angles and their sinuosities, the shape of a gigantic polar-bear. It is easy to see, without any forcing of the imagination, the back, the legs, and the elongated head of the animal. The bearing, the attitude, the colour, are all there. As the beholder ap proaches, the outlines fade ; the shape becomes confused or altered, the " bear" is re-transformed into rock; and the passage is left free from its terrible guardian. The voyager follows at length the coast of Sardinia whieh faces Italy, as during the day he had traversed the coast of Corsica which faces France. Unfortunately night comes, and we are deprived of this view. Sardinia passes near us like a dream in shadow. I know nothing in the world more provoking, than to pass, in the night, a place which you have long wished to see. These misadventures occur frequently, now that the traveller is but the accessory of the voyage, and a man is intrusted, like a b.ale of mer chandise, to the vehicle of ti-ansport. On waking after another night, the broad sea appears of a blue so deep, that the sky itself seeins pale by comparison. Some porpoises frolicking in the wake of the ship, swim with a rapidity which out-speeds the steamer and seems to defy her. They chase each other, tumble one ovcr the other, and dash about beneath our bows. Then they drop lazily astern, and disappear after a few farewell tumbles and plunges. On the left of the vessel, at some distance, there appears an enormous fish, of a leaden colour, armed with a black dorsal fin, pointed like a spear. But he dives and appears no more ; and these, with the appearance in the distance of three or four sails, pursuing their courses in different directions, form the sole events of the day. The weather is fresh ; they hoist the mizen and the jib, which accelerate our speed by AT SEA. 17 some knots. In the evening we see Cn]ie Maritimo, form ing one of the points of that island wliich the ancients called Trinacria, an account of its form ; and which is now rnther more familiarly known, perhaps, ns Sicily. Again, in the dark we pass the length of this ancient aud pic turesque coast ; but to-morrow we shall be at Malta in the daylight. At about two o'clock in the morning, I discern, under a band of striped clouds, a stratum somewhat more opaque than the rest : it is the island of Goza. Presently the stl/ioueffe cuts itself out more sharply. There are immense peaks of rock, at the foot of which the sea boils tumultuouslj', and which lift themselves from the bosom of the waters, like the summits of mountains immersed at their base ; and it is said, that these vast white rocks can be distinguished for hundreds -of feet beneath the blue transjiarence of the waters in which thej' bury themselves ; a circumstance which produces nn effect suffi ciently startling to those who may happen, in frail vessels, to graze the face of these rocks, and havc tho jiowcr in some degree to estimate the depth of the abyss into which thej- are in danger of being plunged. From the front of these gigantic cliffs, rising like the walls of some mighty sea side fortress, there hang fishermen, suspended by a rope, fastened around the waist (in the same way as the Italians suspend themselves to whitewash the fi-onts of houses), throwing their lines with perfect composure, and catching fish. The breaking of 'a rope, or an ill-con- stmcted knot, would precipitate them to the depths of the fathomless gulf below ! We proceed. Undulations rather less precipitous, permit somewhat of cultivation,. Low walls of stone, which from a distance resemble the lines traced upon a map, inclose and separate the fields. JThe clouds have IS CONSTANTINOPLE. disappeared. A beautiful colour, warm and glowing, wraps the earth in a mantle of gold. A heap of white Spanish loaves, above which tower certain rounded domes, blazing under a blinding sun, rising to the height of a hill, or almost of a mountain ; — that is Goza, the capital of the island. The curiosities of the locality are, some caverns, excavated on the verge of the sea, at the entrances of which whirl clouds of aquatic birds, who make their nests within ; a clifi' where springs a species of mushroom, much prized, and of which the knights of ilalta have a monojioly ; and the salt-pit of the clockmaker, — a strange hydraulic phenomenon, of whioh I append a brief ex planation. A Maltese clockmaker, having conceived the idea of making some salt-pits on the coast of Zebug, where he possessed some lands near the sea, caused the rocks to be excavated, in order to retain and evaporate the salt water ; but the sea having mined undemeath, without his concurrence, began, at a certain stage ofhis works, to dis charge itself upward through one of his wells, like a water spout, or like one of the watery volcanos of Iceland, to the height ofmore than sixty feet, deluging all the neigh bouring countiy. With great labour and difficultj', the mouth of this marine volcano was stopped ; but still from time to time it makes a partial eruption. I did not see "the clockmaker's salt-pit; " but this histoiy of it was related to mc as authentic. Goza and Malta are situated, relatively, exactly like Corsica and Sardinia ; a narrow strait divides them, and in former times they, also, must have formed but a single island. The aspect of the two coasts (Goza and Malta) is identical. There is an obvious continuation, from one to the other, of the same rooks, the same soil, and the same geological formation. The climate «u which we are travelling has changed AT SEA. 19 greatly since yesterday. The sky has taken a tint of ultra-marine. The burning wind of Africa begins to make itself felt. IMalta produces oranges ; the fig and the aloe flourish there. And now wc begin to discern the fortifications of the city of La Valette ; made conspicuous by two windmills, in the form of towers, and with their wheels supplied with eight wings, instead of our accustomed four ; a form, how ever, common throughout the East ; but so striking that Hoguet, the Raphael of windmills, ought to make the journey expressly to paint them. So many wings, multi plied like the spokes of a wheel without fellies, have a peculiarly original physiognomy. The blue water becomes green as we approach the land, and double Cape Dragut. The steamer makes a half-circuit, and enters the narrow mouth of the harbour, passing the castle of Saint Elmo and Fort Ricazoli. The fortifications, with their precise angles and bold ridges, illumined by a brilliant light, are thrown up, al most geometrically, between the deep blue of the heavens and the dull green of the sea. The slightest details of the shore stand sharply out. To the left, arises an obelisk, to the memory of CokiMl Cavendish, and beyond you see the extreme angle of the victorious city and the suburb of La Sangle ; to the right, La Valette, presents itself, in form of an amphitheatre. Thc h.arbour, which bcnrs the local name of the Marse, runs inland at two points, divided by a strip of land, like the head of the Red Sea. Ships of all nations — linglish, Sardinian, Neapolitan, Greek — are lying at anchor at various distances from the shore, waiting for a' sufficient depth of water. Upon tho quaj', on the side of La Valette, the English soldiers are to be seen, in their scarlet coats, and immaculate white trousers ; and some wagons with enormous red wheels, recalling the ancient 20 CONSTANTlNOri E. cnrriculi of Naples. All this stands relieved against the white walls, with startling clearness. Although the situations are by no means the same, there is in this redundance of fortifications, in the British type blended with the Southern, something which recalls Gibraltar ; and this resemblance seems to strike all who have visited these two British possessions ; these keys which open and shut thc Mediterranean. We are seen from the shore. A whole fleet of small boats rowed at full speed, bears down upon tho steamer. We are surrounded, hemmed in, invaded ! A pacific on slaught takes place, and we are boarded at all points. In a moment the deck is covered with a crowd, pushing, shouting, and elbowing; and uttering a jargon of all conceivable languages and dialects; till one might fancy himself at Babel, on the day of the dispersion of the workmen by the confusion of tongues. Before knovring to what nation you belong, these facetious polyglots " try " upon you English, Italian, French, Greek, — nay, even Tm-kish, — until they ascertain the tongue in which they can be understood. The couriers, the waiters from the hotels, pursue you, hunt you down, — naj', fairly assassinate you with offers of service. They stuff the cards of their respective hotels into your hands, your overcoat, your waistcoat, your trousers pockets — actually into your hat band ; the boatmen pull you about, right and lelt, by the arm, by the collar of the coat, or the skirt of the paletot, at the risk of tearing you to pieces ; a trifling circumstance, which they don't seem to care about ! Thej' quarrel about J-ou, and fight ovcr j'ou, vociferating, gesticulating, stam])- ing, behaving like men possessed, — but, in short, " as much killed as wounded," and there seem to bc very few quite dead; so that, in fact, this scene of tumult, like Shakspere's play, may be entitled, "• Much ado about AT SEA. 21 Nothing." At length the "row" abates; the travellers are distributed into "lots," over each of which a boatman exercises an ab. and we draw near the Strait of the Dardanelles, defended by two strong fortresses — the one upon the European, the other on the Asiatic coast. Their cross-fire bars the entrance of the strait, and renders access, if not impossible, at least exceedingly difficult, to a hostile fleet. But to finish with the Troad, let us observe, that beyond Yeni-Scheyr, a stream of water empties itself into the Bosphorus, which is said to be the ancient Simois, — br by some the Granicus. The Hellespont, or Sea of Helle, is very narrow, and 72 CONSTANTINOPLE. resembles rather a river at its mouth, than a veritable sea. Its breadth does not exceed that of the Thames at Graves end. As the wind was favourable for coming out into the .33gean Sea, we met a crowd of vessels, which ap proached us with all sail set, and studding-sails run out, and, from a distance, resembled the outline of women carrying a pail in each hand, and dancing along towards us. The European shore, which we coast somewhat closely, consists of rugged hills, spotted with some patches of vegetation, but of an aspect generally arid and mono tonous. The Asiatic coast wears a much more cheerful look, and presents an appearanoe of northem verdure, which, according to preconceived ideas, would be more suitable to Europe. At one moment, we were so near the shore, as to discern five Turkish cavaliers, riding along a pathway, which ran round the base of the rising shore, and looked like a narrow strip of yellow riband. These horse men served us as a scale, to measure the elevation of the shore, which proved much greater than we had supposed. It was near this spot that Xerxes caused the bridge to be constructed which he designed for the passage of his army, and subsequently caused the sea to be flogged, for its disrespectful behaviour, in breaking the bridge constructed by so magnificent a monarch. Judged upon the spot, and under the excitement of its historic associations, this act, cited as the height of human vanity and folly, seems rather rational than otherwise. One thinks also of Sestos and Abydos, made memorable by the legend of Hero and Leander; but finds the Helle spont here contracted to a breadth of only 875 feet. Lord Bj^'on, as is well known, renewed the exploit of Leander, without being a lover. In fact, he was himself the "Hero" of his own exploit; and, instead of finding a lovely maiden awaiting him, on his emerging from the THE TROAD. — THE DARDANELLES. 73 wave, he found only a fever. He took an hour and ten minutes to accomplish the feat, and seemed more proud of it, than of the authorship of " Childe Harold," or " The Corsair" — an amour propre of the swimmer, quite con ceivable by those who have ever prided themselves upou their prowess in that art. We paused for a moment, but without making a land ing, before a town over which floated the standards of the consulates of many nations, and which was enlivened bj' the sails of several windmills, revolving furiously in the fresh breeze. Outside of the town, the earth was mottled with white and green tents, beneath which soldiers were encamped. I do not tell you the precise name of this place, because each person whom I asked gave it a dif ferent designation — an occurrence bj' no means rare in a country where, to the primitive Greek name, is superadded a Latin appellation, overlaid bj- a Turkish one, upon which is engrafted j-et another, of either French or English, by way of rendering the matter quite clear. I believe, how ever, that this name was Chanak-Kalcssi, which we Europeans render freely by " Dardanelles" — it being, in fact, the town which has given a name to the straits. The wind, the current, and the sraall extent of the channel, render the waters somewhat rough ; and the short swell tosspd about, most unceremoniously, a boat with sever.al rowers, whose pccupants hailed the Leonidas, and boarded hor, in order to proceed by her to their des tination. This boat carried a Pasha, bound for Gallipolis, at the mouth of the Sea of Marmora. He was a big man, with thick neck and shoulders, and a large, heavy face, but with something fine beneath its heaviness. He was dressed in the horrible costume of the Nizam — the red " fez," or cap, and a blue frock-coat, buttoned straight to the throat. A numerous suite surrounded him — officers, r 74 CONSTANTINOPLE. secretaries, pipe-bearers, and other domestic officers, with out counting caivas and domestics. All these people unfolded carpets, or unrolled mattresses, and seated them selves upon them, with the exception of some few, better bred, who sat down upon the benches, and consoled themselves for taking that unnatural position, by holding one of their feet in one of their hands, as a comfort and au occupation. Their luggage was curious. There jvcre narghiles, enclosed in red morocco cases ; packets of pipe-stems, of cherry or jasmin ; baskets, covered with richly-gilded leather, to do duty as portmanteaus ; rolls of Persian carpet, and piles of cushions and footstools. There were, among this band, some singularly striking " types." Among others, a fat j'outh, very plump, very rosy, very fair, who had the air of an enormous English baby, dressed up as a Turk ; and a thin Greek, pointed, angular, with a muzzle like a fox, buried in a long pelisse of cloth, bor dered with fur, similar to those in which the actors plaj' Bajazet. These two enclosed the fat Pasha, like the two horns of a parenthesis, and appeared to vie with each other in entertaining their master. The costumes ofthe inferiors of the party were in keeping with their character ; — broad belts, bristling with arms ; embroidered vests ; braided jackets, with superbly-decorated hanging sleeves ; and the physiognomy of Albanian or Arnaout bandits. Thus clad, these vassals had the air of Eastern princes, and their masters that of valets de place out of work. As the fast of Ramadan was in progress, neither master nor slave touched the chibouque ; but werc obliged to pass the time in sleeping, or in running the beads of their chaplets through their fingers. Of the Sea of Marmora, properly so called, I can give no precise detail, because it was night when we traversed THE TROAD. — THE DARDANELLES. 75 its waters, and I was asleep in the recesses of my cabin, fatigued by a previous promenade of fourteen hours on deck. Above Gallipolis, the sea broadens considerably, to contract itself again at Constantinople. The Pasha and his suite were landed at Gallipolis ; the minarets of which were indistinctly visible, amid the falling shadows of the evening. AVhen day appeared, on the Asiatic coast, the Olympus of Bithynia, crowned with eternal snows, reared its lofty crest amid the rosy clouds of moming, glistening with variegated shades of purple and silver. The coast of Europe, infinitely less bold, was also visible, dotted with ranges of white mansions and masses of verdure, above whioh rose tall chimneys of briok — obelisks of industry — the red colour of which, at a distance, rendered them strikingly like the red granite obelisks of Egypt. If I were not afraid of being accused of a desire to indite a paradox, I would say, that all this region seemed strikingly like the Thames, between the Isle of Dogs and Greenwich. The sky, very milky, opal-like, almost white, and suffused with a transparent mist,, enhanced the illusion, until it seemed as if I were approaching London, in the Boulogne packet ; and I almost needed, to undeceive myself, a glance at the red flag, bearing a silver crescent, which we had hoisted on enteting the Dardanelles. In the distance, novv appears the little archipelago of the Isles of Princes — the scene of suburban water-parties from Constantinople, on their Sabbath (Friday). A few minutes more, and Stamboul itself appears in all its splendour. Already, on the left, through the silvery veil of mist, the peaks of many minarets are visible — the Castle of the Seven Towers (where formerly ambassadors were imprisoned on the outbreak of war with the country which they F 2 70 CONSTANTINOPLE. represented) displays its massive turrets and embattled walls ; ils base being washed by the sea, while its rear abuts upon the hill which rises abruptly behind. It was here that the ancient rampart commenced, which formerly encircled the town as fiir as Eyoub. The Turks call the castle Yedi-Kule, and the Greeks named it Ileptapurgon. Its construction dates back to the Byzantine Emperors. It was commenced by Zeno, aud finished by Commenus. Seen from the sea, it seems in a ruinous condition, and ready to crurablo to pieces ; nevertheless, it produces a striking effect, with its heavy outlines, its bulky towers, its massive walls, and its mingled aspect of bastile and fortress. The Leonidas, relaxing her sjieed, in order not to arrive too early, grazes the angle of the Seraglio. It presents a range of long, whitewashed walls, relieved against screens of cj'prcss and tamarind trees ; apartments with trellised windows, and kiosks with overhanging roofs, with no pre tence to symmetry. There is nothing to recall the mag nificence with which a reader of " Tho Arabian Nights " un consciously associates the word " seraglio ;" and it must be confessed, that these wooden boxes, with their grated windows, enclosing the beauties of Georgia, Circassia, and Greeee (houris of that paradise of Mohammed of which the Padischah is the deity), curiously resemble large cages filled with domestic fowls. We Europeans, are in the habit of confounding Moorish aud Turkish architecture, which have, in truth, nothing in common ; and we make, involuntarily, an Alhambra of every seraglio — which is far enough from the , reality. But these remarks do not prevent the Seraglio from offering a very pleasing aspect, with its brilhant white walls and its masses of dark verdure, lying between tlie clear sky and the blue water, whose rapid current washes its mysterious boundaries. THE TROAD.— THE DARDANELLES. 77 As we pass, there is pointed out to us an inclined plane, projecting from an opening in the wall, and overhanging thc sea ; forming, in fact, a sort of " shoot," such as we see in mines and some kinds of factories. It is by that opening, it is said, that those Odalisques who are guilty of infidelity, or who have displeased the Sultan, are precipitated into the deep and rapid wnters of the Bosphorus, enclosed in a sack together with a cat and a serpent; these last being considered emblems of domestic infidelity and treachery. At present, however, we are told that with the advance of enlightenment, these executions have been discontinued. And besides this, the tradition may be utterlj' false, roman tically barbarous as it is. If it be not true, and I do not guarantee it, it has at least a local colouring of possibility ; and there is little doubt, that females have been sometimes submerged in the Bosphorus imprisoned in sacks, whether by this particular channel or otherwise. We double the Seraglio- Point ; the Leonidas halt s at the entrance of the Golden Horn. A marvellous panorama displays itself before our eyes, like the grand theatrical scene of some oriental spectacle. The Golden Horn is a bay, of which the Seraglio- Point, and the port of Top-Hane, form the two capes, and which penetrates into the city, lying in an araphitheatre upon its two shores, as far as the " Sweet Waters," and the mouth of the Barbyses, a little tributary stream. Its name of Golden Horn is derived, no doubt, from its forming a literal "cornucopia" for the city, and contributing to its wealth, by the facilities which it affords to the shipping, to commerce, and to naval constructions. Waiting until we can land, let us make a pen and ink sketch, ofthe " picture" that we can paint by-and-by. To the right, beyond the sea, rises an immense building, 78 CONSTANTINOPLE, regularly pierced by successive ranges of windows, and flanked at each angle by a sort of turret surmounted by a flag-staff. It is a ban-ack ; the largest building, but by no means the most characteristic, in Scutari — the Turkish name of that Asiatic suburb of Constantinople, which dis plays itself on returning from the borders of the Black Sea, and lies upon the site of the ancient Chrysopolis, of which there now remains no vestige. A little more remote, in the midst of the waters, rises, upon an islet of rocks, a lighthouse of dazzling whiteness, which is called Leander's Tower, or otherwise the Maiden's Tower ; although the place has nothing in harmony with the legend of the two classic lovers. This tower, elegant enough in form, and which in this clear air looks like alabaster, forms a superb contrast to the deep blue of the surrounding waters. At the entrance ofthe Golden Horn,Top-Hanfe appears ; with its landing-place, its cannon-foundery, and its mosque, with the aerial dome and slender minarets, built by the Sultan Mahmoud. The palace of the Russian embassy lifts its proudly-elevated front above the red-tiled roofs and the tufts of trees, and seems to command attention as the feature of the town ; yet, as the residences of the other ambassadors are far less assuming, there would seem to be no necessitj' for this self-assertion on the part of Russia. The tower of Galata — the quarter occupied by the Frankish commerce — rises in the midst of the houses, covered with a brazen cupola, and towers above the ancient Genoese walls, whieh crumble at its base. Pera, the peculiar residence of the Europeans, crowns the summit of the hill, with its ranges of cypress trees, and its mansions of stone ; forming a striking conti-ast to the wooden barracks of the Turks. TIIE TROAD. — THE DARDANELLES. 79 Seraglio-Point forms the other cape, and upon this shore lies the city of Constantinople proper — the veritable Stamboul — and never did outline more magnificent, display its undulations and indentations, between sea and sky. The land inclines to the vcry verge of thc water, and the buildings present themselves in a perfect and superb amphitheatre. The mosques, rising above this ocean of verdure, and this wilderness of houses of all colours, dis play their blue domes, while their white minarets, sur rounded by balconies, and terminated by a slender spire. shoot upward, sharp and bright, in the clear sky of the morning ; giviug to the town, an oriental and fairy phy siognomy, heightened by the soft and silvery vapour which hangs about the earth and the buildings. Amidst all these minarets, behind the mosque of Bajazet, rises to a prodigious height the tower of the Seraskier, whence is displayed the signal, which indicates the outbreak and the locality of accidental fires. Three bridges of boats connect the two shores of the Golden Horn, and permit incessant communication between the Turkish town and its variously-populated suburbs. The principal street of Galata abuts upon the first of these bridges. We will not, however, anticipate these details, which will be given hereafter in their proper places, but limit ourselves to the general aspect. There .are no quays in Constantinople, and the town everywhere plunges its feet into the water. The ships of all nations approach the houses, without being kept at a respectful distance by piers of granite. Near the bridge which occupies the centre of the Golden Horn, are stationed the steamers of England, France, Austria, and Turkey ; omnibuses of the sea, watermen of the Bosphorus, that Thames of Constanti nople, where is concentrated all the activity and all the 80 CONSTANTINOPLE. life of the town. Myriads of boats and caiques, glide like fish amid the azure waters of the gulf, and direct their course toward the Leonidas, moored at a short distance from the Cu.stom-house, which is situated between Galata and Top-Haue. In all the countries of the world, the custom-houses have columns, and an architecture in the style of the Odeon. That of Constantinople is not false to its species, but luckily the neighbouring barracks are so dilapidated, so out of the perpendicular, and shouldering each other about with a nonchalance so truly oriental, that the severe classicality of the custom-house is some what ameliorated. As usual, the deck of the Leonidas was covered in an instant with a polyglot crowd. It was a medley of Tm-kish, Greek, Italian, Armenian, French, and English. I was sadly perplexed amidst this babel, although before starting I had studied Turkish " under the best masters ;" when there appeared in a caique, like a guardian angel, the person to whom I was consigned and recommended, and who knew in his own proper person all the languages that ever were spoken, and seemingly some few besides. He sent to the devil (each in his own tongue), all the rascals who were devouring me, took me into his boat, and con ducted me to the custom-house, where the officials con tented themselves with a mere glance at my scantily stocked portmanteau, which a hammal, or porter, im mediately afterward tossed, like a feather, across his herculean shoulders. The hammal is of a species peculiar to Constantinople ; a sort of camel with two legs and no hump. He lives on cucumbers and water, and carries the most enormous weights up the most perpendicular streets, under a sun literally melting. These men carry upon their shoulders a stuffed leathern THE TROAD.— THE DARDANELLES. Rl cushion, on which they place their burdens ; stooping greatly beneath the weight,' and bearing the strain upon tho neck, like oxen. Their dress consists of loose linen trousers, a coarse yellow jacket, and a fez, about which is woundahandkerchief. Their chestsand bodies are generally well developed; but, singular as it may appear, their legs are often very slender. It is amazing to see legs, which look like two flutes in russet leather cases, sustain weights beneath whioh Hercules would bend. In following the hammal, who led the way toward a lodging which had been secured for me near the principal street of Pera, I found myself bewildered in a labyrinth of streets and lanes, narrow, crooked, mean, and infamously paved ; full of holes and puddles ; thronged with mangy curs, and asses loaded with bricks and mortar. The lovely mirage which had enwrapped the city as seen from the sea, rapidly disappeared. The paradise was changed into a cloaca ; the poetry turned into prose ; and I could not but ask myself, sadlj', how these ugly and ruinous houses could derive, from distance and perspective, aspects so seducing — a colouring so soft and luminous. I have come from Paris in twelve days and a half, travelling with the mails ; for I make it a principle in my journeys, to travel as rapidly as possible to the most distant point, irt order to return at my ease ; and I had promised myself to consecrate this day to a repose which I had fairly eamed ; but curiosity was too strong for me, and after paying the homage of a few yawns to my fatigue, I commenced my peregrinations, and plunged at hazard into the midst of the unknown town, without taking the precaution to provide myself with a compass ; such having been the custom of a friend of mine, characterised by singular prudence and sagacity. 82 CONSTANTINOPLE. VI, THE GOLDEN HOEN. The lodging provided for me, occupied the first-floor of a house situated at the extremity of a street in the Frankish quarter ; the only one which Europeans inhabit. This street led from the chief street of Pera to the Field of the Dead;' but I cannot designate it more clearly, for the simple reason, that in Constantinople the streets have no names affixed at the comers — neither Turkish, nor French — nor are the houses numbered, which fact complicates the difficulty. In traversing this nameless maze, each person follows his own judgment, for want of better guidance ; and finds his way and retraces it, by means of his own observation of local peculiarities. The "clue" of Ariadne or of Queen Eleanor, would here be of invaluable utility; but the attempt to drop crumbs of bread, and retrace your steps by their means, would be futile indeed, for the dogs would have devoured your land marks, long before you had even reached your flrst destination. Speaking of dogs, my principal guide-post or beacon, by which to find my apartments during the earlier days of my sojourn, was a great hole sunken in the middle of the ' The character of Pora is so muoh moro French than anything else, that this disused cemetery is best known to Europeans by its French designation of " Petit-champ dos Morts ;" of which, " The Little Field of the Dead," although certainly a literal translation, and the ouly possible one, conveys but a clumsy equivalent. — Tuans. THE GOLDEN HORN. 83 highway, in which a mangy female dog, suckled a litter of some half dozen puppies, with the most entire composure and security, aud with but little respect for the legs of those pedestrians who approached too closely the verge of her extempore kennel. Some streets, however, have traditional names, derived from their proximity to some mosque or khan ; and that in which my abode was situated, as I by-and-by ascer tained, was called " Dervish-Sohak ; " but the name being nowhere written up, serves but small purpose of guidance. My house was of stone ; a fact by no means unconsola- tory, in a town so combustible as Constantinople ; — and, for greater security, was furnished with an iron door and iron-plated shutters, to repel the flames and sparks in case of fire in the neighbourhood. My room was distinguished by whitewashed walls, and a painted wooden floor ; and had, for fumiture, a long divan, a table, and a Venetian mirror in a frame of black and gold. It communicated with a bed-room, supplied with an iron bedstead and a chest of drawers. There was about all this, nothing very oriental, as you may perceive ; nevertheless, my hostess was a Smyrniote, and her niece, although dressed in a European morning wrapper, hada face of oriental paleness, illumined by a pair of dark eyes, purely Asiatic in their depth and languor of expression. A pretty Grecian girl for a servant, with a handkerchief twisted into a turban by way of head-dress, assisted by a stupid boy, formed the domestic establishment, and maintained its local colouring. The niece knew some French, — the aunt a little Italian ; and by means of these two, and my sus picions of Turkish, w-e contrived to misunderstand each other very satisfactorily. But, Constantinople is evidently the original Babel, and the confusion of tongues has never ceased since its outbreak. The knowledge of at least four 84 CONSTANTINOPLE. languages, is indispensable for the commonest daily inter course ; those four being Greek, Turkish, Italian, and French ; some or all of which are spoken at Pera by the very boys in the streets. At Constantinople the celebrated linguists Mezzofanti or Bpwring, would be no such won derful persons after all ; and as for us Frenchraen, who know only our own language, we stand confounded amidst this prodigious linguistic facility ; and find ourselves little better situated than if the gift of speech had been denied us altogether. As I have already said, it is my habit, in strange towns, to plunge boldly into the unknown streets, like a nautical explorer ; trusting to the points of the compass and dead-reckoning. Nothing is more amusing, than the " discoveries " that one makes in this manner ; and it is a great satisfaction to give a mosque or a fountain its true name, by dint of your own researches and analogies, with out the aid of a stupid dragoman ; who would pronounce both uame and history, with the tone and manner of a showman exhibiting a nest of boa-constrictors, or some " amphibious " nondescript, " which cannot live in the water and dies on the land." Moreover, in this errant-travelling, you see things which guides never would show you ; which, in fact, means all that is really worth seeing, in the countries which you visit. AVith a " fez " for a hat, dressed in a closely-buttoned frock-coat, my face embrowned by the sea air, and a beard of, six months' growth, I had sufficiently the air of a modernised and "reformed" Turk, to attract no attention in the streets ; and I, therefore, boldly pursued my course toward "The Little Field of the Dead ; " taking the pre caution to observe very closely, at starting, both my house and the road which I took, so that I inight uot lose myself. THE GOLDEN HORN. 85 " The Little Field of the Dead," v\hich, for brevity, and to avoid the more lugubrious addition, is usually called "The Little Field," occupies the slope of a hill which rises from the shore of the Golden Horn, to the crest of Pera, and is distinguished by a terrace bordered by lofty houses and cafes. It is an ancient Turkish ceme tery, but disused for some ye.ars : perhaps, because there was a lack of room ; perhaps, because the dead Mussul mans found themselves too near the living Giaours. A blazing sun glares upon this declivity, bristling with dark-leaved and gray-trunked cypresses, beneath which rise a crowd of tombstones of marble, the summit of each of which is decorated with a carved and coloured turban. These stones lean in all directions, — right, left, backward, or forward, according to the sinking of the earth beneath and around them ; and bear a vague resemblance (from their turbaned heads) to human forms, or to those children's toys, which represent a blacksmith striking upon an anvil, with a wooden-hammei' stuck in his stomach. In many places the stones, carved with verses of the Koran, havc yielded under their own weight ; and being carelessly placed in a sandy soil, are overturned or broken. Some of them arc decapitated, and their turbans lie at their feet like severed heads. It is said that these trun cated tombs are those of the Janissaries, pursued even beyond the grave by the vengeance of the Sultan Mah moud. Nothing like symmetry or arrangement is discernible in this scattered cemetery ; which extends, at one point, its tombs and its cypresses, between the houses of Pera, to the "Tekke," or monastery, of the Dancing Dervishes. Here and there, rise slightly elevated plots of ground, often enclosed by low walls, or balustrades, forming the special burial-ground of some family of wealth or power. 86 CONSTANTINOPLE. These enclosures contain, habitually, a pillar surmounted by a superb turban, encircled by three or four leaves of marble (rounded at the top like the handle of a spoon), and a dozen of smaller pillars. This is the burial-place of some Pasha, with his wives, and those of his children who died young ; forming a sort of funeral harem, to keep him company in the other world. At different points, workmen are making door-frames, or steps for stair-cases ; idlers are sleeping, or smoking their pipes, seated upon the tombs ; veiled females pass, trailing their yellow boots with a careless sort of step ; children are plaj'ing at hide-and-seek among the graves, and shouting merrily at their play ; and the cake mer chants set up their stalls, and offer you their light circular cakes, encrusted with almonds. Among the fallen stones fowls are pecking, and cows seek some meagre shoots of herbage ; while for lack of grass they chew scraps of shoes, and fragments of old hats, which are scattered around. The dogs have installed themselves in the excavations caused by the decay of the coffins, or more often of the planks which support the earth above the bodies ; and have made themselves fright ful hiding-places of these asylums of the dead, — enlarged by their voracity. In the most frequented quarters, the tombs are worn beneath the feet of the passengers, and are gradually obliterated beneath the dust and other accumulations. The marble pillars are scattered in fragments upon the soil, and are rapidly being buried, like the mouldering remains which they once designated, — shrouded by those invisible grave-diggers who make everything neglected and deserted to disappear; — be it tomb, temple, or town. Here, it is not Solitude extending itself above Forgetful ness, but Life resuming the place which it had temporarily THE GOLDEN HORN. 87 conceded to Death. Some masses of cypress, peculiarly compact, have still saved certain corners of the cemetery from profanation, and preserved its hue of melancholy. The turtle-doves nestle in their dark foliage, and flights of smaller birds, hovering above their black cones, trace large circles upon the blue of the sky. Some small houses of wood — built of planks, lath, and lattice-work, painted of a red which has been rendered pink by tlie sun and the rain — are grouped among the trees; looking worn out and dissipated, out of perpendicular, and in that state of dilapidation, most favourable to the artist. Before descending the hill leading to the Golden Horn, I paused a moment to contemplate the superb prospect which expanded itseK beneath my view. The first picture, was formed by the cemetery' and its slopes, covered with cypresses and tombs ; — the second, by the brown-tiled roofs, and the red houses of the quarter of Kassim Pasha ; the thu-d, by the blue waters of the gulf, which extends from Serai-Bournou to the " Sweet Waters of Europe ; " and the fourth, by the line of undulating hills, upon the slope of which Constantinople lies outspread as in an amphitheatre. The blue domes of the bazaars, the white minarets of the mosques, the arches of the ancient aqueduct, the tufts of cypress and of plane trees, the angles of the roofs, varying the magnificent line of horizon, extending from the Seven Towers to the heights of Eyoub : — all this, lay before me in a pure and silvery light, and with a force of toue and clearness of outline bey6nd description. After a few minutes of pensive admiration, I resume my progress ; now following nn obscure path, now striding over the tombs, until I come to a labyrinth of narrow streets, lined with black-looking houses, inhabited by 88 CONSTANTINOPLE. charcoal dealers, blacksmiths, and other ferruginous labour ers. I said " houses," but the word is far too grand, and I recall it. Say huts, hovels, dog-kennels ; all that you can imagine the most smoky, dirtj', and miserable. Wretched little donkeys, with drooping ears and bare bones, range about, loaded with charcoal or old iron. Aged beggars, seated upon their crossed and folded legs, extended piteously towards me, from amid their rags, hands like those of unfolded muuiniies ; while their oval's eyes, and their beaks like those of birds of prey, repelled, rather than excited compassion. Otliers, with curved backs, and heads leaning on their breasts, hobbled along, with their hands resting upon large canes — looking, for all the world, like the pictures of Mother Goose iu the nursery tale. It is only in the East, that it is possible to realise the fantastic extreme of ugliness, to which old women can attaiu, who mal^e no attempt to conceal the ravages of time. Here, too, the veil augments the horror ; for what one sees is frightful, but what that leads onc to imagine, is unutterable ! It is a sad pity that thc Turks havc no " Witches Sabbath," to celebrate v/hich, they could send these horrible creatures, each upon her broom ! Some few hammals,bending beneath incredible weights — and, like Dante in the infemal regions, raising one foot, only wheu the other is firmly planted — mount and descend the streets ; a few horses pass noisilj' along, striking in numerable sparks, at each step, from the wretched and uneven pavement, of this rather laboriou.= than fashionable quarter. At length, I reached tho Golden Horn, where I came out upon the white buildings of the arsenal, erected aboAe extensive vaults, aud crowned by a tower and belfry. Being built, however, in accordance with civilised tastes. THE GOLDEN HORN. 89 it has no attraction for Europeans, although the Turks are very proud of it. I therefore give little time to its con templation, and devote my observation rather to the harbour, crowded with ships of all nations, and rippled by caiques gliding about in every direction ; and above all, to the wonderful panoraina of Constantinople itself, dis played upon the opposite shore. This view is so strangely beautiful, that it is hard to credit its reality ; or to believe that it is anything but one of those theatrical scenes, prepared to illustrate some eastern fairy tale, and bathed, by the fancy of the painter, and the briUiancy of the gas-lights, in a radiance pm-ely celestial. The palace of Serai-Bournou, with its Chinese roofs, its white and crenelated walls, its latticed kiosks, its gardens of cypress, pine, and plane trees ; the mosque of Sultan-Achmet, with its circidar dome standing amidst the six minarets, which rise around it like masts of ivory; the great mosque of Saint Sophia ; the mosque of Bajazet ; Yeni-Djami; the Seraskier's Tower, an immense column, upon whose summit is always stationed a watchman to give the alarm in case of fire, and indicate its locality ; the Suleimanieh, with its Arab elegance, and its dome like a helmet of steel ; all these, displayed upon a ground of delicious blue, form a picture which seems rather like a briUiant visiod, than a prosaic scene of actual life and reality. The transparent waters of the Golden Hora, reflect these splendours in their trembling mirror, and increase the magical effect of the picture; while the ships at anchor, and the saUing-boats skimming the wave, with their sails outspread Uke the wings of a bird, serve as varied and life-like accessories, in giving tone and force to the tableau, in which, as in the atmosphere of dream land, you behold the city of Constantine and of Mahomet II. o 90 CONSTANTINOPLE. I know, from the experience of those who have visited Constantinople before me, that these wonders have need (like the theatrical scenes which they resemble) of dis tance and perspective ; and tbat, on a near approach, the charm vanishes ; the palaces prove to be only dilapidated barracks ; the minarets nothing but large whitewashed piUars ; and the streets, steep and narrow, are utterly without character. But what matter, if this incongruous assemblage of houses, of mosques, and of trees, when painted by that peerless artist, the sun, produces a wonder ful picture, lying thus between sea and sky ? The scene, although the result of an illusion, is not the less truly and wonderfully beautiful. I remained for a time on the shore, to watch the flight of the sea-gulls, and to see the caiques darting like gold-fish through the water, bearing " types " of all nations — represented by one or more specimens — forming a perpetual carnival, which seems never to pall upon the view. I had a strong desire to risk myself upon the bridge of boats which connects the two shores, and to go " Eis tin polin," as the Greeks say — a phrase from which the Turks, by force of constant hearing and repeating, have formed " Is-tam-boul " — the modern name of the ancient Byzantium ; although some " learned Thebans " pretend that we ought to say " Islam- bol," meaning " Islam-ville " ; but the passage is, for a stranger, rather too bold a feat to attempt at an advanced hour of the day, and with the chance of being overtaken by darkness before accomplishing it. I resume my road, therefore, and re mount the acclivity of the cemetery, to regain Pera. In so doing, I deviated to the right, which brought me beneath the ancient Genoese walls, at the foot of which is a dried-up moat, filled with dogs asleep, and children at play ; and thence, to the Tower of Galata — a lofty column, THE GOLDEN HORN. 91 on the suramit of which, as on that of the Seraskier's Tower, is stationed, perpetually, a watchman, to give the alarm of fire. This tower is a veritable Gothic donjon, crowned by a battlemented and projecting gallery, and surraounted by a pointed roof of brass, oxydised by time, and which, in place of the crescent, sustains the swallow-tailed weather-vaue of the old feudal manor-house. At the foot of the tower, are grouped a number of hovels and dwarfed houses, which even augment its really great height. Its construc tion dates back to the time of the Genoese. Those mer chant-soldiers made fortresses of their warehouses, and embattled their quarter like a fortified town. Their counting-houses might have withstood a siege — and so indeed they did, more than one. At the summit of the hill which is occupied by the cemetery, is a broad road, lined on one side with houses which enjoy a splendid prospect. I followed this road to an angle, where stands a very remarkable old cj'press tree, and found myself speedily opposite to my owu street; tired enough, and dying of hunger. I was supplied with a dinner, which theyhad obtaiued from a neighbouring eating-house, and whioh soon calmed my appetite ; rather, however, by disgust, than by satisfy ing my hunger. « I am not in the habit of writing elegies upon the culinary deceptions which I suffer in travelling ; and an omelette, garnished with a few stray hairs, and rendered aromatic by a deluge of rancid butter, is a private misfortune, which I shall not attempt to elevate to the dignity of a public calamity ; but I may as well record, in passing, that this first revelation of the style of Turk ish cookery, seemed to me but an evU augury for the future. Spain had habituated me to wine tasting of goat-skins G 2 92 CONSTANTINOPLE. and pitch, and I resigned myself readily enough to the black wine of Tenedos, brought in a kid-skin bottle ; but the water — yellow, brackish, and flavoured by the rust of the old aqueducts — made me wish for either the gargoulettes of Algiers, or the alcazzaras of Granada. \ NIGHT OF THE RAMADAN, 93 VII. A NIGHT OF THE RAMADAN. At Paris, the idea of a promenade from eight to eleven o' clods at night, in Pere La Chaise, or the Cemetery of Montmartre, would appear ultra-singular, and cadaverously romantic. The most courageous dandies would shrink from the experiment; and as to the ladies, the mere sug gestion of such a party of pleasure, would cause them to swoon with alarm. At Constantinople, however, it attracts no notice. The Boulevard de Gand of Pera — its Regent Street — its Broadway — its Corso — is situated on the crest of the hUl, which is occupied by " The Field of the Dead." Picture to yourself, my dear sir, and my lovely lady, that, seated, in summer, on the steps of Tortoni's, you see before j'ou — beneath the sable gloom of clustering cypresses, and glancing white in the rays of the moon, like broken columns of silver — hundreds of monuments and of tombs ; while you trifle with an ice, or sip a liqueur, and muse upon love or politics. A slight railing, broken or overtbro-wn in many places, indicates a faint line of separation between the burial- ground and the gay promenade ; but it is disregarded at eveiy instant. A line of chairs, and a set of tables, over which lounge a crowd of idlers, before a cup of coffee, a sherbet, or a glass of water, extends from one end to the other of the terrace ; which, farther on, turns and leads 91 CONSTANTINOPLE. towards the " Great Field of the Dead," behind the hill of Pera. Some ugly houses, of six or seven storeys, line the road on one side, and rejoice in a superb view, of which they are quite unworthy. It is true, that these houses pass for the best in Constantinople, and that Pera is proud of them — judging them (rightly) as fit to figure honourably at IMarseilles, or Barcelona, or even at Paris ; for they are, in foet, of an ugliness the most civilised and modern. It is, however, but just to say, that, at night, vaguely illurained by the glare of torches, the rays of star light, or the silvery beams of the moon, they assume, if only by virtue of their massive dimensions, an air suf ficiently imposing. At each end of the terrace, there is a cafe-concert, where the customers can unite with the pleasures of eating and drinking, the luxury of an orchestra of Bohemian musicians, playing German waltzes and overtures of Italian operas. Nothing can be more gay, than this promenade, bor dered with torabstones. The music, which never ceases (one orchestra beginning as imother pauses), gives a festal air to this habitual assemblage of promenaders ; whose friendly whisperings serve as a bass to the brazen strains of Verdi. The fumes of ^^ latakia" and ^^ tombeki" mount in spiral clouds of perfume from the chibouques, cigars, and narghiles — for, at Constantinople, every one smokes ; even the women. All these lighted pipes sprinkle the shade with innumerable glowing sparks, like a swarm of fire-flies. The cry of " a light here !" is con stantly heard, in all directions, and in every conceivable language ; and the waiters precipitate themselves in the direction of these polyglot calls, brandishing a live coal in a pair of little pincers. The inhabitants of Pera are seen in numbers, walking A NIGHT OF THE RAMADAN. 95 amid the smokers and drinkers ; dressed in European cos tume, except some slight modifications about the head, and in the dress of the women. The young men are dressed like the tailors' prints of the French fashion which is just out of date. They are hardly distinguishable from Parisian fashionables, except by an air of " newness," somewhcat too striking, in their dress. They don't folloio the mode, but go rather iu advance of it. Each part of their apparel is " signed" by some celebrated outfitter, of the Rue Richelieu, or the Rue de la Paix ; their shirts are from chez Lami-Housset ; their canes from chez Verdier ; their gloves from chez Jouvin, etc., etc. Some few, how ever — Armenian families, chiefly, — wear the red cap, with a black tassel ; but they are greatly in the minority. In fact, the East is not recalled in this scene, except by the occasional passing of some Greek, with his embroidered jacket and its hanging sleeves, and his tunic swelling out like a bell ; or by some Turkish functionary on horseback, foUowed by his cawas and his pipe-bearer, retm-ning from the Great Cemetery to Istamboul, and directing his course towards the Bridge of Galata. The Turkish manners have tinged the European man ners ; and the women of Pera Uve closely secluded. It is, however, a voluntary seclusion. They rarely go out, except to take q turn in the Little Field, and breathe the fresh air of the evening ; and there are many who do not allow themselves even this innocent relaxation ; and thus deprive the traveller of the opportunity of passing in review the women of the country, as in the Casino, the Prado, Hyde Park, or the Champs Elysees. Man only, appeai-s to exist in the East; woman passes there as a myth ; and the Christians, in this particular, have caught something of the notions and habits of the Moslems. On that particular evening, the Little Field was pecu- 96 CONSTANTINOPLE. liarly animated. The " Ramadan" had just commenced with the new moon, the appearance of which above the crest of the Olympus of Bithynia, anxiously watched by the priests, and proclaimed instantly throughout the em pire, announces the return of the grand Mahometan jubilee. The Ramadan, as every one knows, is a sort of Lent blended with a Carnival ; the day is a fast, the night a feast; the penance is followed by a debf^uch, as a legiti mate compensation. From sunrise to sunset — of which the precise instant is made known by a signal-gun — the Koran forbids the tasting of food or drink, or even the in dulgence of the pipe ; which last is a dreadful privation, to a people whose lips rarely quit the amber mouthpiece of the chibouque or narghile. To assuage even the most agonising thirst by a draught of water, were, during the day, a grave sin ; but from evening till morning everything is perraitted ; and the devotees then recompense them selves amply, for their previous compulsory abstinence. To-night, therefore, the Tm-kish part of Constantinople keeps high festival. From the promenade of the Little Field, one beholds a wonderful spectacle. On the other side of the Golden Horn, Constantinople glows and sparkles, like the cro^vn of carbuncles of an oriental emperor. The minarets blaze with rows of lamps from all their galleries ; and from spire to spire verses of the Koran gleam in letters of flame, — seem ing, in the distance, as if written upon the azm-e page of the firmament, by the hand of Omnipotence. Saint Sophia, Sultan-Achnict, Yeni-Djami, the Suleimanieh, and all the long line of temples of Allah which rise between Serai- Bournou and the hills of Eyoub, blaze with resplendent light, and pronounce with tongues of fire the formula of Islam. The crescent of the moon, attended by a single A NIGHT OF THE RAMADAN. 97 star, seems to emblazon the insignia of the empire upon the unfurled standard of the sky. The waters of the bay reflect and multiply these myriads of lights, and seem to pour a streara of molten jewels. It is said, that in a dream there is always dn element or portion of reality ; but here the reality sur passes the dream !, The tales of the " Arabian Nights," offer nothing more magical or fairy-like ; and the treasures of Haroun-al-Raschid would pale, beside this blazing and colossal casket, of a league in length ! Dm-ing the Ramadan, the utmost freedom of action prevails ; the use of the lantern is not compulsory, as at other times ; the brilliantly iUuminated streets render ing this precaution unnecessary. The Giaours can remain in Istamboul until the last light is extinguished — an ex periment formerly full of danger. I, therefore, eagerly accepted the proposal of a young " Constantinoplean," to whom I was recommended, to descend to the landing- place of Top-Han6, and take a caique to go and see the Sultan on his way to prayers at Schiragan, and then finish the night in the Turkish quarter of the town. ITie descent from Pera to Top-Hane, is by a narrow and almost perpendicular street, much resembling the dry channel of a torrent. To a European foot, accustomed to the elasticity of an asphalte paveraent, or the sraooth ness ofa macadamised road, such a tumble-down pathway affords but rude exercise. Still, with the assistance of my more experienbed companion, I reached the bottom -with out breaking any bones — a happier result than could have been reasonably expected. I did not tread upon a single dog's tail, nor tumble over even one of those amiable animals. As we descended, the crowd increased; nnd the shops around, brUliantly illuminated, Ughted up the thorough- 98 CONSTANTINOPLE. fares, crowded with Turks, seated on the ground, or upon low stools, smoking with that evident zest, earned by a day of abstinence. The streets presented a perpetual coming and going ; a bustle and confusion, the most ani mated and picturesque imaginable ; for between the im moveable lines of smokers, poured an endless stream of pro menaders, of all nations, sexes, and ages. Borne on by the stream, we reached the aquare of Top-Haue, and traversing the court of the, mosque, found ourselves in front of that charming fountain, in the Arabian style, which the English prints have made familiar to all the world ; but which has been deprived of its pretty Chinese roof, to be furnished with a trashy balustrade of iron. The bal-masque in " Gustavus," does not exhibit a greater variety of costumes, than the great square of Top- Hane in a night of the Ramadan. The Bulgarians, with their huge overcoats and their fm--triramed caps, seem not to have changed their dress since leaving the banks of the Danube ; Circassians, with their slender limbs and ex panded chests ; Georgians, with short tunics bound with a ring of metal, and patent leather casques ; Arnaouts, wearing embroidered jackets without sleeves, over their bare and brawny chests ; Jews, distinguished by their robes open at the sides, and their black caps bound with blue handkerchiefs ; Greeks of the islands, with their ample trousers, crimson sashes, and tarbouches with silken tassels ; modernised Turks, with their single-breasted frock-coats, and red fez ; Turks of the old style, in broad turban, and caftan of pink, yellow, or pale blue, recalling the time of the janissaries ; Persians, with black lamb's- wool caps ; Syrians, distinguished by their gold em broidered scarfs and gowns of Byzantine form ; Turkish women, in white yachmacks und light coloured feredjes ; Tire MOsauE or sultan mahmoud at top-hane. A NIGHT OF THE RAMADAN. 99 Armenian females, less closely veUed, in violet dresses, and black boots ; all these, formed in groups which blend and disperse unceasingly, constitute the most novel and cm-ious medley that cnn be conceived. Stalls in full trade, seUing milk curds and boiled cream ; shops of confectionery — of which the Turks are enormous consumers ; the counters of the vendors of water, distinguished by chimes of small bells, which are rung by a miniature hydraulic machine ; stalls of sherbet dealers, and of sellers of snow-water ; are ranged around the sides of the square, which is brightened by their illuminations. The shops of the tobacconists are filled with persons of some pretension, who look out upon the scene, while complacently smoking the finest tobacco, through pipes of jasmine or cherry-wood. At the farther end of the caf6s the tarbouka rattles, the tambourine beats, and the shrill notes of the flute are heard ; while nasal and monotonous songs, blended from time to tirae with the sharp notes of the Tyroleans, rise from amid the clouds of smoke. It was with great labour and difficulty that we reached, at length, through this compact throng, the landing-place of Top-Han6, where we were to teke water. A few strokes of the oar sent us out into the stream, and we could aee from the centre of the Bosphorus, the illuminations of the mosque of Sultan Mahmoud, and of the gun foundery which has given its name to the landing- place of Top-Hane. " Top" in Turkish, signifies cannon; and " hane" a place or warehouse. The minarets ofthe mosque of the Sultan Mahmoud, are considered among the most graceful in Constantinople ; and are cited as specimens of the classic style of Turkish architecture. They raised their slender proportions sharply, in the deep blue of the night, with their outlines traced in fire. 100 CONSTANTINOPLE, and united one to another by verses of the Koran ; produc ing a most graceful and striking effect. In fi-ont of the foundery, the illumination was composed of a gigantic cannon, with its carriage and wheels, forming the insignia of the Turkish artillery with striking exactitude. In following the Bosphorus, we coasted the European sho^-e, all blazing with light, and bordered with innumer able summer palaces of -viziers and pashas ; distinguished by illuminations mounted upon iron franjes, and repre senting complicated cyphers or monograms in the Turkish manner, blended with figures of steam-boats, bouquets, and sentences of the Koran ; until at length we reached the palace of Shiragan, composed of a triangular portico with fluted columns (in the style of the Chamber of Deputies at Paris), and two wings, trellised with windows, and resembling a couple of immense cages. The name of the Sultan, written in lines of fire, glowed upon the front ; and through the open door a large hall was visible, where amid the blaze of innumerable candelabra, dark shadows moved in pious convulsions. It was the Padischah, who performed his devotions, surrounded by his grand officers, kneeling upon the carpet. A sound of nasal psalmody issued also from the hall, combined with the yellow light of myriads of tapers, and spread itself abroad in the calm and blue of the evening. After a few minutes of contemplation, we signed to our caidgi to return, that I might see the other shore ; the shore of Asia, on which stands Scutari (the ancient Chry sopolis), with its illuminated mosques, and its screens of cypress spreading behind them the folds of their funereal foliage. During the passage, I had occasioii to admire the dexterity with which the rowers of these fragile boats (the caiques) direct their course, through the tumult of A NIGHT OF THE RAMADAN. 101 vessels and of currents, which would render the navigation of the Bosphorus extremely dangerous to boatmen less adroit. The caiques have no helm, and the rowers — unlike the gondoliers of A''enice, who look towards the prow of their boat — turn their backs towards the quarter which they approach ; which compels them at every stroke of the oar, to turn their heads to see if any unexpected obstacle has interfered to check their progress. They have certain recognised cries, by which they announce or prevent such interruptions, with inconceivable quickness. Seated upon a cushion, in the bottom of the caique, beside my companion, I enjoyed in silence and inaction this wonderful spectacle ; for the slightest movement, be it understood, is quite sufficient to overturn these narrow coclde-shells ; calculated as they are for Turkish gravity and immobility. The dews of the night fell upon our garments, and made the latakia steam in our chibouques ; for be the days never so hot, the nights have always a certain coolness upon the waters of the Bosphorus, fresh ened as they are by the sea breezes, and the displacement of air caused by the rapid currents of the estuary. We entered the Golden Horn ; and touching at the Serai-Bournou, we disembarked amidst a fleet of caiques, (among which ,ours, after turning about, insinuated itself like a wedge), near a great kiosk, with Chinese roof, and walls hung with green curtains ; a former pleasure-house of the Sultan, abandoned at present, and transformed into a guard-house. It was amusing, to watch the approach of the long, gilded barges, of the pashas and high person ages, for whom splendid horses waited on the quay; — superbly caparisoned barbs, held by cawas, negroes, or Arnaouts. The crowd gave way respectfully to allow them passage. 102 CONSTANTINOPLE. Oq ordinary occasions, the streets of Constantinople are not lighted, and every one is obliged to carry a lantem, as if he were looking for soraebody (or haply emulating the search made by Diogenes) ; but at the time of the Ramadan, nothing can be more joyously bright than these narrow streets, and these abodes of habitual darkness, along which sparkle, from point to point, paper lanterns ; while the shops, open throughout the night, throw out long trains of light, which illumine the surrpuuding houses. On every stall is nothing but lamps, candles, and tapers ; the vendors in the open air surround themselves with tapers to attract custom ; groups of friends sup together beneath the lamps; the smokers, seated before the en trances of the cafes, revive with each puff the glowing tip of their chibouques or narghiles ; — and among this joyous crowd the light falls in vast and variegated masses, reflected in all colours and shades, and in every possible direction. All this multitude eat, with appetites sharpened by a fourteen hours' fast : — some eat balls of rice, or of hashed meat, wrapped in vine leaves ; — others the kebab, rolled in a kind of pancake ; and yet others, enormous cucumbers, or carpous of Smyrna ; while those richer or more fasti dious, gorge themselves with more refined meats, or with quantities of confectionery ; and no small number, re strict themselves to the large white mulberries, which lie in heaps before the stalls of the fruiterers. My friend took me into the shop of a confectioner, who is the " Very " of Constantinople, to initiate me into the gourmandisiu of the Turks iu respect to "sweets." It is, in truth, carried to au extent of refiuemcnt which would hardly be credited in Paris. This shop merits a particular description. The shut ters, lifting upon hinges, like the ports of a ship, formed A NIGHT OF THE RAMADAN. 103 a species of awning or pent-house, painted in blue and yellow, overshadowing enorraous glass jars, filled with coloured sugar-plums, and crystals of rahatlokoum (a sort of transparent sweatmeat, made with flour and coloured sugar), pots of conserve of roses, and jars of pistachio- nuts. We entered the " establishraent," in which three persons would have found it difficult to stand, and which was, nevertheless, one of the largest in Constantinople; and the master — a big Turk, dark coraplexioned, black- bearded, with a mildly ferocious physiognomy — served us, in a manner amiably terrible, with some red and white rahatlokoum, and various sorts of exotic " sweets," highly perfumed and of exquisite flavom- ; although, perhaps, a little too honied for a European palate. A cup of ex cellent coffee served, however, by its healthful bitterness, to overcome the excessive sweetness of the confectionery, of which I had partaken somewhat freelj', out of curiosity. At the farther end of the shop, some boys, with aprons tied around their waists, a cloth encircling their heads, and with naked arms, stirred, over a clear fire, the brass saucepans, in which the almonds and pistachio-nuts were habituating themselves to clothing made of sugar ; or rolled, in white powder, balls of rahatlokoum ; making no mysterj' wh!\tever of their processes. Seated on one of those low stools, which, with the divans, form the only seats used by the Turks, I watched the passage through the streets of the compact and motley crowd, sprinkled with vendors of sherbet, and criers of iced-waters, or of cakes ; in which tho evcr-recurrinji Turkish functionary on horseback, preceded by his cawas, and followed by his pipe-bearer, pursued his way imper turbably, without crying " beware !" — and I could not withdraw my gaze from this scene, for me so new. In 104 CONSTANTINOPLE. fact, it was past one in the morning, when, guided by mj' companion, I took my way towards the quay where our boat awaited us. In our route, we traversed the court of the mosque of Yeni-Djami, encircled by a gallery of antique columns, surmounted by Arabic arches of a superb style, which the moon whitened with silvery light, and softened with shadows of blue. Under these arches lay, with the composure of persons quite at home, numerous groups of beggars -wrapped in their rags. Every Mussulman who has no home, .can lay himself down, without fear of the patrol, upon the steps of a mosque ; and he will sleep there in as perfect safety as a Spanish beggar beneath the porch of a church. The feast lasts, at Constantinople (as already ex plained,) until the gun-fii-e announces, with the first ray of sunlight, the retum of the fast ; but it was time to think of rest, and we still had to effect the ascent from Top-Hane to Pera ; an undertaking rather formidable, after a day of physical fatigue and mental excitement. The dogs growled somewhat as I passed, — doubtless scenting my French origin and recent arrival, — but they were speedily quieted by a few words in Turkish, from my friend, and allowed me to proceed without attacking my shins ; and, thanks to him, I re-entered my lodgings safe from their hungry jaws. THE CAFES. 105 VIII. THE CAFES. The "Turkish Cafe," on the Boulevard du Temple, at Palis, has sadly deluded the imaginations of the Parisians, as to the luxury of the real oriental cafes. Constantinople is far from ai^proaching the magnificence of the arches, the columns, the mirrors, and the ostrich eggs of the Parisian building. In fact, nothing can be more simple than a Tm-kish cafe, in Turkey. I will describe one which passes for perhaps the finest, but which, however, recalls in nothing the luxury of eastern fables. You seek in vain for the panels of enamelled porcelain, the stucco-lace, the bee-hive arches, the green, red, and gold of the halls of the Alhambra, celebrated by the illuminated prints of Girault de Prangey. Many of the establishments for the sale of Dutch-broth, at Paris, are quite as splendid as the cafes of Constantinople. Imagine a saloon of a dozen feet square, arched and whitewashed, encircled by a wainscot about six feet high, and a species of divan, covered with straw matting. In the middle — and this is the most elegant point of detail — a fountain of white marble throws up a stream of water,, which falls again in various streams, and clouds of spraj'. In a corner, bums a furnace ; over which the coffee is made, cup by cup, as required, in little brass coffee-pots, capable of holding but a single cup each. To the walls are attached shelves, laden with razors, H 106 CONSTANTINOPLE. near which hang several elegant little pearl-mounted mirrors, in which the customers can see whether their beards are arranged to their taste ; for, in Turkey, every cafe is also a barber's shop : and, while I smoke my chi bouque and sip my coffee, in comes a fat Turk, with a parrot's nose, and a lean Persian, with an eagle's beak, to have their beards dressed ; while a young Greek, in front of me, is pomading his moustache, and painting his eye brows, which he has first equalised by pieans of a small pair of pincers. The idea is prevalent, that, according to the rule of the Koran, the Turks absolutely proscribe all " images," and regard the products of the plastic arts as works of idolatry ; but, although this is true in principle, it is not rigorously sustained ; and the cafes are decorated with all sorts of prints, of the oddest choice and taste, without appearing at all to scandalise the orthodox Mussulman. The Cafe of the Fountain, among others, has quite a gallery of prints ; and so grotesquely characteristic, that I cannot forbear to narae a few of them : — The Turban of a Dervish, — A Santon taming a red Lion, — Animals, by Victor Adam, — Warriors of Khorassan, with ferocious moustachios and scimitars, and mounted upon horses who seera to have six legs each, — Napoleon at the Battle of Ratisbon, — The Young Spanish Girl, — Turkish Ships and Caiques, — Combat between twenty-two Frenchmen and two hundred Arabs, — Emperor of Russia and his august Family, — Battle of Austerlitz, — President of the United Stales, — Old Parr, — Daniel Lambert, — The Balloon of Tomaski, — A Lion, — A Goat, — A View of the Arsenal and Mosques, etc., etc. All these, in frames worth about a penny each ! This extraordinary melange occurs in all the cafes, with slight variations of subject. Turkish taste takes the French THE CAFES. 107 prints, and forms these grotesque combinations. Sirens swira at the side of steam-boats, and the heroes of Schah- Nameh brandish their battle-axes above thc old soldiers of thc Empire. It is delightful, to take, in these cafes, after a fatiguing walk through the streets, a tiny cup of their dark and turbid coffee, brought to j'ou by a black-eyed youngster, on the tips of his fingers, in a salver of silver filigree ; and it proves more truly refreshing than any iced drink whioh you could obtain. To the cup of coffee, is usually added a glass of pure water ; which the Turks drink bcforc, and the Franks after ; and there is a characteristic anec dote current on this very subject. A European, who spoke the eastern languages per fectly, wore the Mussulman costurae like a native, and had even acquired the bronzed coraplexion ofthe climate, was, nevertheless, recognised as a Frank, in a little, obscure, Syrian cafe, by a ragged Bedouin, incapable, certainly, of disco-vering a fault in the pure Arabic dialect of the detected foreigner. " By what have you discovered me to be a Frank?" said the European; as much annoyed as Theophrastus, when called " stranger," by a greengrocer in the market at Athens, because he had misplaced an accent. " You drank your water after your coffee ;" replied the Bedeuin. Every one carries his own tobacco in a box ; the cafe supplying only the chibouque — the amber mouth-piece of which is incapable of retaining any impurity frora use — and the narghile — a complicated apparatus, which it would be rather difficult to lug about with you. The price of the cup of coffee is twenty paras, or about one penny farthing ; and if you give a piastre, or twopence halfpenny, you are quite a magnificent person. The money is dropped iuto a box, pierced with a hole (a H 2 108 CONSTANTINOPLE. regular child's money-box), which is placed near the door. Although, in Turkey, the first beggar in rags, who comes in, seats himself ou the divan beside the most sumptuou.sly- dressed Turk, without eliciting any sign of aversion or displeasure from the latter, certain classes have, nevertheless, their habitual places of resort; and the " Cafe of the Marble Fountain," situated between Serai-Bournou and the mosque of Yeni-Pjami, is one of the most frequented in all the town. A charming little circumstance, purely local and oriental, gives a poetic tinge to this caf6, in the eyes of a European. The swallows have made their nests iu the arch of the ceiling ; and, as the front is always open, they dash in and out again, with that peculiar " swoop" which charac terises them ; bringing food to their young, and chirping as they pass, without showing the least fear of the inmates, whose spiral colurans of smoke they often disturb, and even against wliose fez, or turban, they often graze their wings. The younglings, with their heads peeping over the brink of the nests, gaze curiously, but tranquilly, upon the customers \\ ho come and go ; or are lulled to sleep by the gush of the fountain, or the bubbling of the nar ghiles. It is a very pretty sight, to witness this fearless -confi dence in man, on the part of the birds, aud to see these nests actually within this crowded cafe ; but it is known that the Orientals, however cruel, sometimes, to man, are exceedingly gentle to animals, and have the fiiculty of winning their affection, and inducing them to ajiproaeh, habitually and voluntarily. But, then, they never disturb the animals — as the Eurojieans do, by their noisy restless ness, and their uproarious laughter. The Turks, governed THE CAFES. 109 by the principle of fatalism, have much of the passive immobility ofthe aniraals themselves. Near Tekke — the monastery of the dervishes, adjoining Pera — and facing the prolonged cemetery of the Little Field of the Dead, there is a cafe, frequented chiefly by Franks and Armenians. It consists of a large, square room, wainscoted half way up with white and yellow, sur rounded by a tapestried divan, and ornamented by mirrors, in black or gold frames, sustained by cords with golden tassels ; and also decorated with little brazen hands, hold ing napkins or towels — for this caf6, like all of its species in Constantinople, is combined with the barber's shop. On a shelf, at one end, are ranged narghiles, in cut glass, or Bohemian glass, or Damascened steel ; catching and re flecting the light from their angular surfaces, and enfolded, like so many Laocoons, by their flexile and snake-like tubes of morocco. Near the narghiles are ranged, like shields upon the bulwarks of an antique gallej', large brass basins, in which the barber lathers the heads of his customers. On the bench, beside the door, you sit dreamily, and watch the passage of the merchants who go towards their counting-houses, at Galata ; or gaze upon the dilapidated tombs, which, from their desecrated enclosures, overhang the public road, and retain little of their sepulchrnl nspect, except what thej' borrow from the sable gloom of the overshadowing cypresses. The Cafe of Beschik-Tasch, on the European shore of the Bosphorus, is rather raore ])icturesqiie in its construc tion. It reserables those cabins upon piles, from which fishermen watch the passage of the shoals of fish. It is shaded by tufts of trees, and built of planks .and trellis- work, raised upon timbers ; and is bathed bj' the rapid current of the Bosphorus, and refreshed by the breezes from the Black Sea. Seen at a distance, the effect is 110 CONSTANTINOPLE. graceful — especially at night, when its lamps throw long trains of light upon the waters. A perpetual tumult of caiques, seeking to land or embark their passengers, gives animatiou to this aerial cafe, recalling, although with rather more of elegance, those which overhang the Gulf of Smyrna. To close this " monography " of Constantinople cafeism, we will refer to one more, which is situated near the landing-place of Yeni-Djami, and rarely frequented by any but the sailors. The lighting of it is original enough, consisting of glasses filled with oil, in which burns a wick, and which are hung from the ceiling by wires twisted into a spiral shape, like the springs of a child's wooden cannon. The cawadgi (master of the cafe) touches the glasses from time to time, and they, by means of the spiral wire, rise and fall, executing a sort of pj'rotechnic ballet, to the great delight of the spectators, who are so placed as to be beyond the fear of occasional grease -spots. A lustre, coraposed of iron wire, representing a vessel, and supplied with lights to indicate her outline, completes this strange illumination, and renders a delicate compliment to the profession of the habitual customers of the cafe. On observing the entrance of a Frank, the cawadgi, to do hira honour, gave a furious impulse to his lamps, and the glasse.5 began to d.ance like jack-o'-lanterns ; while the nautical " lustre " heaved and rolled, like a galleon in a hurricane ; shedding around, meanwhile, an exquisite dew of rancid oil. The frequenters of this caf6 would offer superb oriental models to the artist. The fluctuating light, and savage figures, seem more befitting some wild mountain gorge, than the interior of a peaceful cafe ; but yet these seem ingly-ferocious beings sip their coffee, and surrender themselves to the indolent luxury of the kief, with a THE CAFES. Ill plnciditj' astonishing in mortals so characteristic, and so worthj', in appearance, to serve as originals for the bandits of Salvator Rosa or Adrian Guignet. Nenrlj' all these sailors had their arms tattooed with red and blue. The most brutalised of the human race seem to know, bj- instinct, that the use of omament traces an impassable line between man and the animals — and when they cannot embroider their clothing, they em broider their skin. Upon these brawny arms, with the muscles of athletes, I saw the talismanic Mach' Allah, which preserves from the " evil ej-e" — so much dreaded in the East ; burning hearts, transfixed with arrows, pre cisely like those upon the valentines which fond house maids send to their lovers ; verses of the Koran, and pious souvenirs of the pilgrimage to Mecca, interlnced with flowers, anchors, and oars ; and steamboats, with wheels and all complete — even to a corkscrew imitation of the smoke from their funnels. I remarked, particularly, one stout fellow, somewhat more elegantly shabby than the rest ; whose arms, bare to the shoulder, exposed to view, in a frame of ar.abesques — on the right side, a young Turk, in frock-coat and fez, holding in his hand a pot of basil ; and, on the left, a dancing-girl, in a strikingly brief petticoat, who seemed to pause in the'midst of a cabriole, to receive the flowery homage of the gallant. This master-piece of tattooing alluded, no doubt, to some incident of gallantry, of which the prudent sailor had written the record upon his arm, in case it should be effaced from his heart. Two ferocious-looking fellows most politely made room for me on the straw-covered divan ; and the coffee which I obtained there was certainly better than the black decoction of the best caf6s of Paris. The absence of the habit of drunkenness, enables one to associate with 112 CONSTANTINOPLE. the lowest classes in the East; and, as we have before observed, the Orientals have a natm-al dignity, unknown among us Europeans. Imagine a Turk, going in the evening to one of our waterside aud third-rate cafes. Of what remarks, and impertinent curiosity, would he not be the object ! This was my position here ; and yet no one appeared even to notice me, aud still less to offer me the slightest shadow of annoyance. It is true, that thc ouly drink for sale was the water, hawked about the room by some little Greek boys, repeating in a monotonous whine, Crionero J crio- nero ! (iced water ;) whereas, in a French tavern, they drink wine and brandy, and get tipsy from excess of civilisa tion. Suoh are, with very slight variations, the Turkish cafis ; which it will, therefore, be seen, bear little resem blance to the idea forraed of them in France and England. They are often enlivened by troops of itinerant musicians, playing various instruments, and singing songs utterly incomprehensible to European ears; but to which the Orientals listen for hom-s at a time. I shall have occasion to refer again to these musicians ; who, if not harmonious, are certainly pictm-esque. THR SHOPS. 113 IX. THE SHOPS. The oriental shops are very different affairs frora those of Europe. In fact they are oidy " stalls," to begin with, or a sort of alcove in a wall ; and are closed at night, by shutters, whieh hang upon hinges and let down like the ports of a ship. The .shopkeeper, seated, cross-legged, upon a bit of matting, or of Sraj-rna carpet, carelessly smokes his pipe, or plaj'S with his beads ; retaining the same position for hom-s, and appearing perfectly indifferent in regard to custom. The purchasers stand always out side, in the street ; examining the goods exposed at the front of the stall, with a purely business-like air. The art of displaying merchandise to advantage — carried to such perfection in Paris and London — is quite unknown, or utterly disdained, in Turkey. Nothing reminds you, in even the finest .streets of Constantinople, of the magnifi cent shops and windows, of the Rue Vivienne, or the Strand.* Smoking is a necessarj' of existence to the Turk ; one could almost fancy it a part of his religion ; and naturally, therefore, the shops of tobacconists and of vendors of chibouques and amber mouth-pieces abound everywhere. • The author evidently knows less of London than of Constanti nople ; as, otherwise, ho would probably liave named Eegent Street, rather than " tho Strand," in thia connexion. — Trans. 114 CONSTANTINOPLE. The tobacco, cut very fine, and disposed in long, silky tufts, of a pale tint, is laid in masses upon shelves, and arranged with reference to its price and quality. The principal qualities are four in number : namely, iavach (sweet), orta (mediura), dokan-aldeu (piquant), and sert (strong) ; and are sold at frora eighteen to twenty piastres (from 3s. 6d. to 4s. English) for an ocque ; — a quantity equivalent to about two pounds and a half. These to- baccoes, of graduated strength, are smoked in chibouques, or rolled into cigarettes ; the use of which last is beginning to be very general in Turkey. The tombeki, a tobacco destined exclusively for the narghile, comes from Persia. It is not cut like the other, but pressed, and broken in small morsels. It is of a darker colour than the other kinds, and so strong, that it cannot be smoked until after two or three washings ; and as it is liable to scatter, it is kept in glass-jars, like a drug. Without tombeki, the narghile cannot be smoked ; and it is vexatious that this tobacco is very difficult to procure in Europe ; because nothing is more delicious, or more favourable to poetic reverie, than to inhale, in gentle puffs, while seated upon the cushions of a divan, this perfumed smoke, freshened by the water through which it passes ; and which reaches you, after traversing a large circle of tubing, in which you entwine your arm, like an Ar.ab snake-charmer playing with his serpents. It is the sybaritism of smoking, carried to the highest degree of perfection. Art itself contributes to the luxury of this delicate enjoyment; for there are narghiles of gold, of silver, and of cut-steel ; moulded, carved, or engraved, with wonderful skUl, and in forms as elegant as those of the purest antique vases ; while garnets, tm-quoises, corals, and other stones even more precious, are employed to ornament them ; so that one may smoke perfumed tobacco THE SHOPS. 115 through a masterpiece of art ; and I see nothing, that even the most fastidious and aristocratic of duchesses 'could object to this "time-killer," which procures for sultans themselves, the prolonged luxury of the kief (siesta), and a happy forgetfulness of the world, beside their fountains of marble, and beneath the treUis-work and vines of their kiosks. The tobacconists of Constantinople are styled tutungis. They are, mostly, Greeks or Arraenians, and have singu larly engaging m.anners ; and sometimes — especially during the nights of Ramadan — viziers, pashas, beys, and other dignitaries, lounge familiarly in their shops, to smoke. talk, and learn the news ; sitting, the while, upon low stools, or the surrounding bales of tobacco, like members of the English Parliament upon their " wool-sacks." * It is a strange thing, that tobacco, now in such universal use throughout the East, has been the subject ofthe severest interdiction on the part of many former sultans. More than one Turk, has paid with his life for the luxury of smoking; and the ferocious Amurat IV., more than once made the head of the smoker fall with his pipe. Coffee, also, has had its not less sanguinary process of introduc tion at Constantinople ; and has no less been honoured by its fanatics and martyrs. In the modern Byzantium, they now bestow the utmost care upon, and strain to the utmost point of luxury, all that concerns the pipe ; the pleasure, above all others, of the modern Turk. The shops of the sellers of mouth- ' The assured knowledge of the matter, with whioh our author makes these laughable mistakes on English subjects, is such, that one cannot forbear to give them as they occur in the original. We may, however, be allowed to hope, since he describes all that he luis actually seen, with such undoubted power, that " when he next doth ride abroad," he may extend his travels to England, and that we '' may be there to see." — Trans. 1 16 CONSTANTINOPLE. pieces and stems of pipes, are very numerous and well- appointed. The most valued stems, are those of cherry- wood or jasmine; and they attain to very high prices, in proportion to their size, straightness, and iierfection of quality. A fine pipe-stem of cherry, with its bark unbroken, and of a dark lustre ; or a shoot of jasmine, of which the knots are regularly distributed and of a bright colour, will command as much as five hundred piastres ; or nearly five pounds. I made some rather prolonged stoppages, in front of the shop of one of these pipe-stem merchants, in thc street which descends to Top-Hane, in front of the cemetery. The shopkeeper was an old man, with a superb gray beard, dark eyes, and aquiline nose. From the arm-hole ofhis waistcoat issued a thin, j'ellow arm, working a sort of bow, as if he had been playing a violin. Upon an iron drill, or gimblet, set in motion by this " bow," a pipe- stem of cherry was turning with wonderful rapidity, while undergoing the delicate operation of being bored, to serve its destined purpose. Near the old man, a j'oung one (seemingly his son) was at work upon stems of lesser value ; and a family of young cats played men-ily in the sun, rolling themselves in the dust which fell from the pipe- stems. The wood not yet manufactured, and the stems ah-eady finished, lay stored in the shade, at the further end of the shop ; and the whole formed a picture of the true oriental stamp, which were worthy of any artist; but which might be found, with slight variations, framed nt every street corner in Constantinople, The manufactories of pipe-bowls, are recognisable by the quantity of red dust sprinkled about them. An in finity of bowls of yellow-clay (which becoraes a deep pink by baking), await, ranged upou shelves, their turn THE SHOPS. 117 for entrance to the oven. These bowls, of an exceedingly fine and soft material, upon which the potter imprints various ornamental designs, are not blacked, like the French pipes ; nnd when completed, are sold at amazinglj' low prices. The quantity of them consumed, is in credible. As to the amber mouth-pieces, they are the object of a trade of their own ; and which approaches to that of jewelrj', by the value of the material and the expense incurred in working it. The amber comes chiefly from the Baltic ; on the shore of which it is found more abundantly than any where else. At Constantinople, where it is verj- dear, the Turks prefer it of a pale lemon colour, partly opaque; and desire that it should have neither spot, nor flaw, nor vein ; conditions somewhat difficult to combine, and which greatly enhance the price of the mouth-pieces. A perfect pair of thera coramand as much as eight or ten thousand piastres : — from £70 to £90. A collection of pipes worth 150,000 francs (£6,000), is not at all an unusual thing among the high dignitaries, or the richer private persons, in Istamboul. These pre cious mouth-pieces are encircled with rings of gold, enamelled, and often enriched with diamonds or rubies. It is, in fact, an oriental mode of displaying the pos session of wealth. All these pieces of amber — yellow, pale, or clouded, and of different degrees of transparency, polished, turned, and hollowed with the utmost care — acquire, in the rays of the sun, shades of colour so warm and golden, as would make Titian jealous, and in oculate with the desire of smoking, the most resolute victim of " tobacco-phobia." In the humbler shops, cheaper mouth-pieces are to be found, having some almost imperceptible flaw or fault; but not the less perfectly lis CONSTANTINOPLE, \ performing their office, or being the loss cool and pleasant to the lips. There are imitations of amber, in Bohemian glass, of which enormous quantities are sold, at paltry prices ; but they are used only by the Armenians and Greeks of the lowest class. No Turk who has any self-respect, uses anything but the pure amber. I hope, that my fair readers will forgive all these deteUs about pipes and tobacco, which, as a traveller, I can hardly forbear to give ; for Constantinople is enveloped in a per petual cloud of tobacco smoke, as dense as the vapour in which Homer makes his deities enwrap themselves. This purposeless lounging about streets, has infected my pen ; and there has been a want of change, I confess. Pray look, therefore, upon these characteristic details (habitually neglected by travellers), as on beads of different colours strung upon one thread, with somewhat too little regard to harmony, but yet, not without a certain value, and possessing much local significance. The Turks, who eat with their fiugers, in default of knives and forks, are of course deficient in table plate and cutlery ; with the exception of some few persons, who have travelled in France or England, and brought home those articles of luxury ; whieh are still, however, almost unknown in the East, and which even those who have them, never use except before strangers and as a proof of civilisation. But there are articles of food, such as the yaourth, the kaimak, and various kinds of preserved fruits, which cannot be handled with the fingers ; and thej' therefore use exceedingly pretty spoons of tortoise-sheU or box- wood, elaborately and exquisitely carved, to serve the purpose of the missing silver plate. I saw, in a shop, a service of this kind, consisting of a large spoon, and six smaller ones, fitting the oue within the other, and all fountain near the sweet-waters or asia. THE SHOPS. 119 executed with a most beautiful finish of workmanship and originality of model. The handle of the large spoon was decorated with ara besques most elaborately carved, and of a surpassing deli cacy of execution, unsurpassed bythe finest Chinese carvings in ivory ; while the smaUer spoons had different designs, not less delicately executed. European silversmiths, in want of new models of form or design, might advan tageously imitate these spoons, in silver or silver-gilt ; and they would adorn the most magnificent tables. In the street which coasts the Golden Horn, between the old and new bridges, are the marble-cutters' yards, where they make the turban-headed torabstones, which crowd — Uke white phantoms, just issued from their graves — the numerous cemeteries of Constantinople. There is a perpetual clatter of maUets and chisels ; a cloud of spark ling dust, like snow which will not melt, sprinkles all that quarter of the streets. The "illuminators," surrounded with pots of colours, tint the spots whence are to spring, in letters of gold or vermillion, the names of the deceased, accompanied by a verse of the Koran, or a wreath of flowers or vine-leaves, or of grapes ; which last are pecu liar to the tombs of the woraen, being regarded as em blems of gentleness, grace, and fruitfulness. There, also, they manufacture the marble reservoirs and omaments of the fountains destined to decorate and re fresh the streets, the houses, or the kiosks ; or to facilitate the frequent ablutions inculcated by the Mohamraedan creed, which raises cleanliness to the rank of a virtue ; differing in that respect from Catholicism, which often treats dirt and neglect as sanctity ; carrying this some times to such an extent, that formerly, in Spain, persons who made frequent use of the bath were suspected of heresy, and regarded rather as Moors than Christians. 120 CONSTANTINOPLE. This funereal avocation — the manufacture of tombstones — does not appear to sadden those who practise it ; and they chisel away at their lugubrious marbles, in the jolliest manner possible. In Turkey, indeed, it constantly strikes a European, that the idea of deatii seems to alarm nobody, and does not awaken the slightest sentiment of melancholy. They are, no doubt, familiarised with it; and the close vicinity of the cemeteries, blending every where the city of the dead with that of the living, instead of being placed, like oms, outside of our towns and in solitary localities, robs it of muoh of its terror and mystery. Beside these tomb manufactories, alwaj's in operation, where you may at any time order your monument, with a certainty of being supplied on the instant ; and where there is never a luck of business — death being the most regular of customers — life throngs, bustles, and laughs noisilj'. The A'endors of eatables display their goods ; con sisting chiefly of white cheese, which closely resembles greasy plaster ; of barrels of black olives ; little casks of Russian caviar ; heaps of cucumbers and tomatoes ; and quarters of meat, around which linger crowds of hungry dogs. A little farther on, the fish-market asserts its presence, by its saline and piscatorial odours ; and is, moreover, made conspicuous, by being decorated with the preserved carcasses or shells, of every inconceivable sea- monster that could be found. Polypuses, sea-serpents, sea- scorpions, and innumerable nameless deformities, are here exposed to view, which Nature evidently never de signed to be so exhibited, but had prudently hidden in the dark green depths of the ocean. There is a sort of swordrfish eaten at Constantinople, of a peculiarly formidable aspect. They are six or eight feet iu length, and are cut into slices for sale. Their dissevered THE SHOPS. 121 heads are lighted by a large eye, green and fiery, which seems still to menace you with its sword, which is strong, blue, and hard, like tempered steel. Nothing could seem more strange than their long nose, from which protrudes this formidable sword ; and it forms altogether a vcry odd countenance for a respectable fish. When I went through the fish-market, there were four of these gigantic creatures, on four different stalls, all facing each other ; and, with these brandished weapons, looking like so many sub marine ruffians, challenging each other to combat. The absence of females in the shops at Constantinople, is, of course, very striking to a stranger. The Mussulman jealousy yields little to the necessities of trade ; and they stUl keep closely secluded, the sex which they are accus tomed habitually to distrust. Many little details of duty, in both houses and shops, performed in Europe invariably by females, are discharged in Turkey by athletic fellows, with portentous beards ; the unfitness of whom for such tasks is grotesquely obvious. But if the women are not allowed to sell, they revenge themselves by buying ; and one sees them in the shops, in groups of two or three, followed by negresses, who carry sacks, and to whom the ladies hand their purchases, as Judith passed the head of Holofemes to her black servant. " Shopping" seems as much an amusement of the Turkish ladies as of the English ; and is, with the former, a means of passing the time, and exchanging a few words with other human beings, which few of them deny them selves. 122 CONSTANTINOPLE. X. THE BAZAARS. FoLLO-wiNG the crooked streets which lead from the land ing-place of Yeni-Djami, to the mosque of Sultan Bajazet, you reach the Egyptian, or Drug Bazaar ; an immense building or market, traversed from end to end by a sort of street or roadway, intended to facilitate the passage of customers and of merchandize. A penetrating odour, de rived from the innumerable aromatic drugs here collected, assails j'our nostrils as you approach, and, is almost in toxicating in its strength. Here are exposed in heaps, or in open sacks, henna, antimony, sandal-wood, dye-stuffs, dates, benzoin, pis tachio-nuts, mastic, ginger, nutmegs, opium, hachich, and many other articles of similar character ; all under the care of merchants who sit cross-legged iu a most in different attitude, and look as if they were too much overpowered by this perfumed atmosphere, to trouble themselves about anything. The Grand Bazaar — to retain the name given to it by Europeans, although it is more properly styled " Bezestin" — covers an immense surface, and is in itself a city within a city, with streets, lanes, passages, squares, fountains, etc. ; all forming an inextricable labyrinth, where it is difficult to find your way, and still more so to retrace it, even after numerous visits. This vast space is overarched, and the THE B.AZAARS, 123 day is admitted through small cupolas, which dot thc flat roof of this immense pile, and shed a soft and dim light around, which is much more favourable to the merchants than to the purchasers, I nm sorry to disturb the vision of oriental magnificence, called up by the words " Great Bazaar of Constantinople ;" but I can compare its reality to nothing, so accurately, as to "The Temple," at Paris; which it very greatly resembles in arrangement and style, although, of course, very much more spacious.' I entered, through an arcade of no particular archi tectural character, and found myself in a little street, especially devoted to the perfumers. It is there that they sell those exquisite essences of jasmin and bergamot ; the little flasks of atar-gul (otto of roses), in cases of em broidered velvet ; rose-water ; depilatory powders ; end less varieties of cosmetics ; little bags of musk ; rosaries of ivory, bloodstone, amber, rose and sandal-wood ; Per sian mirrors, framed with exquisite paintings ; enormous square combs, with large teeth ; and, in short, the whole arsenal of Turkish coquetry. In front of the shops, are collected innumerable groups of women, whose fcredjis of apple-green, sky-blue, or pink ; yachmacks, carefuUj' closed ; and yeUow morocco boots, indicate " Moslem," in everj' shade and fold. Many of them lead by the hand prettj' children, in embroidered jackets of red or green, and Mameluke trousers of cherry-coloured silk; while ne gresses, dressed in blue or white, and ranged behind their mistresses, complete the picturesque effect of the group. Occasionally, also, a black eunuch, recognisable by his short chest, long legs, and narrow shoulders, ' Most readers know "The Temple" (if in no other way), by Eugene Sue's description, in the " Mysteries of Pjiis." Jt is a vast assemblage of second-hand dealers in furniture, clothing, etc., and has no element of the magniflcent, except size. — Trans. I 2 124 CONSTANTINOPLE. watches, with a morose air, the little troop entrusted to his charge ; and, to obtain passage for them through the crowd, waves a courbach, or whip, of hippopotamus skin, which is the distinctive mark of his statiou and authority. The merchant, leaning on his elbow, responds carelessly to the thousand questions, heaped one upon another by the women; who "forage" among his goods, and turn the whole establishment topsy-turvy; questioning and talk ing at cross-purposes ; asking prices, without waiting an answer ; and keeping up an incessant volley of laughter all the time. Behind these street-stalls, there are shops, to which you mount by two or three flights of stairs ; and where articles of great value are stored in drawers aad chests, which are opened only for purchasers who are in earnest ; or who, as the English say, " mean business." In these less public shops, are found beautiful striped scarfs, from Tunis ; Persian shawls and carpets, so exquisitely embroidered, as to be scarcely distinguished from cash meres ; mirrors, inlaid with mother-of-pearl ; low stands, or stools, richly carved or inlaid, on which to place salvers of sherbet ; desks, for the reading of the Koran ; perfume- censers, of gold, or silver, or engraved and enamelled brass ; little hands, of ivory or tortoise-shell, for scratch ing one's back ; the bells of narghiles, in Khorassan steel ; China or Japan cups ; and innumerable other nick- knackeries of oriental taste or fantasy. The principal street of the bazaar is intersected and overai-ched by arcades, composed of stones alternately black and white ; and the ceiling is decorated with half- effaced daubs in the Turkish rococo style, which ap. proaches more nearly than would be supposed to the fashion of ornament in use in the time of Louis XV. This street abuts upon a crossway, where stands a foun- THE BAZAARS. 125 tain, the water of whieh serves for the ablutions of the Moslemah ; for the Turk never forgets his religious duties, but will, when the hour of prayer arrives, break off un hesitatingly in the very midst of a bargain, leaving the • buyer in suspense, while he kneels down upon his carpet, with his face turned towards the East (towards Mecca), and says his prayers, with as much devotion as if he were beneath the dome of Saint Sophia, or of Sultan- Achmet. One of the shops most frequented by strangers, is that of "Ludovic," an Armenian, who speaks French fluently, and with exemplary patience allows you to tum and tumble over every article of his curious stock, I have made some long visits to his shop, and tasted his excellent Mocha coffee, out of little China cups, served upon tiny salvers of gold filigree, after the old Turkish fashion. Rembrandt would have found, in this shop, abundant material for enriching his museum of antiquities. Antique arms, ancient stuffs, curious articles in gold and silver, porcelain vases, and innumerable other articles, of ancient fashion and almost imknown uses. The picturesque "East" of half a century since, seems to have thrown off its robes in Ludovic's shop, when it was forced to re- clothe itself in the absurd costume of "the reform;" which becomes the Turk, as the Uvery of a Lord Mayor's footman would become a wild Indian. Upon a low table are displayed yataghans, poignards with chased silver scabbards, or sheaths of velvet, sha green, morocco, or wood, and handles of agate or ivory, or encrusted with garnets, coral, or turquoise — long, short, broad, narrow, straight, crooked, and of every con ceivable variety of form and of date, from the Damascus blade of the Pasha, inlaid with verses of the Koran, in letters of gold, to the coarse sheath-knife of the camel- 126 CONSTANTINOPLE. di-iver. How many Zehecques and Arnaouts, Beys aud Effendis, Omrahs and Rayahs, must have robbed their belts, to form this costly and singular arsenal and armoury ! Upon the walls are hung Circassian casques and coats of mail; shields of tortoise-sheU, of hippopotamus' hide, of inlaid steel with bosses of brass ; long guus, engraved, inlaid, and jewelled ; and arms of the present day, inter mixed with those of the middle ages. The drawers and closets are heaped with Broussa silks, glistening like water in the moonlight, with their silvery tissue ; slippers, embroidered handkerchiefs, In dian and Persian cashmeres. Emirs' pelisses of green, dolmans stiff with gold — all the luxuries of fable, all the chimerical riches of the " Arabian Nights," are heaped together in the narrow compass of Ludovic's shop ; and he allows you to examine and handle them, until you begin to fancy the oriental tales of childhood to be no ex aggerations, and that you see before you the jacket of Prince Caramalzaman, and the very dress worn by the Princess Boudroulboudour. Chaplets of amber, ebony, and sandal- wood; scent- boxes of gold ; fans made of the plumage of peacocks, or the argus pheasant ; bells of hookas, carved or inlaid with silver. Amid all these articles of Turkish luxury, j'ou find, unexpectedly, a piece of Sevres porcelain, or of crockery frora Vincennes, or a bit of enamel from Limoges ; arrived there, no one knows how. Between two splendid helmets from Kurdistan, with mailed gorgets like those of the Crusaders, I saw one of those blaek and pointed Prussian helmets, now in use in that country, and which resemble nothing so much as an English coal-scuttle, with a short poker stuck through its centre. Anything on earth, that you could possiblj' desire, you might reasonably count upon finding , among Ludovic's THE BAZAARS. 127 stores ; be it the stew-pot of the janissaries, the battle-axe of Mahomet II. , or the saddle of Al Borak. Each street of the Bezestin is devoted to some parti cular trade. Hero nrc sellers of bnbouches, slippers, nnd women's boots ; and nothing can be droller than the shelves, full of extravagant forms of slippers, in leather, morocco, velvet, or brocade, and ornamented in every conceivable manner ; besides being of a shape and style utterly unsuited to any European foot. The children's shoes afford opportunity for the prettiest possible caprices of form and ornament. In the street, the women wear laced boots of jellow morocco, of which I have already spoken ; for the elegant and costly slippers in which they indulge, would be in a moment engulfed and lost, in the muddy and glutinous streets of Constantinople. In another quarter are collected the sellers of caftans, gandouras, and dressing-gowns of Broussa silk. Those articles are moderate in price, although the colours are superb, and the fabric exceedingly soft and fine. These dealers have also a stuff, manufactured at Broussa, and used for dresses, waistcoats, and trousers, of which one half is silk, and the other cotton ; and which is a recent manufacture, encouraged by the present Sultan. The drapers display English fabrics of glaring colours, the borders of which are decorated with great letters, or armorial blazons, in gold or brass thread, to flatter the eastem fancy. It is an exemplification of the perfection of mechanism to which Great Britain has attained, coupled with that falsity of taste peculiar to the English. I confess that such absurd grotesqueries make me grate my teeth, and wish to send to all the devUs, the industry, the commerce, and the civUisation, which can produce a red eo furious, a blue so savage, such an impudent yellow ; and which, for some unknown gain, can produce colours 128 CONSTANTINOPLE. and corabinations so atrocious, and so hostile to the harmony of tone that belongs to eastern taste ; which, gorgeous as it may be, is not tawdry. When I reflect that I am probably doomed to meet these horrible stuffs — cut into jackets, vests, or caftans — in a mosque, a street, or a landscape, I experience an inward fury, which bids me wish that the sea would engulf the ships which import these abominations ; that fire would destroy the factories wbere they are made; and that England itself would disappear in its own fogs ! I must, however, say almost as much in detestation of the execrable cotton fabrics of Rouen and Roubaix, which begin to spread over the East their frightful little bouquets, their atrocious garlands, and their dirty spotted patterns ; which last greatly resemble masses of crushed bugs ! If I speak of this with bitterness, it is because it has caused me such genuine annoyance, to see three young Turkish girls — perhaps, eighteen years of age, beautiful as houris, and indeed far more so, since houris do not exist — wearing, over dresses of Rouen calicoes, caftans of this diabolical English fabric. The rays of the sun, although attracted by their charming faces, refused to light up these monstrosities, and recoiled from them with disgust. Happily, one is relieved from these horrible contem plations, by the display of children's clothing; consisting of little jackets, embroidered with gold and silver ; tiny trousers of silk ; little caftans, with pockets ; and tar bouches, ornamented with crescents: in short, the East in miniatm-e, in the prettiest form conceivable. Then come, in a street reserved to themselves, the gold and sUver wire-di-awers, who make the thread of silver and gold, with which the Turkish caps, slippers, jackets, etc., are so exquisitely embroidered. There, also, are made those elegant cords and braids, which they apply THE BAZAARS. 129 to garments with a grace that our passementerie vainly seeks to imitate. The Turks do all these things by hand ; usiug the great toe of the bare foot, as the point to which they fasten their work. In the richer jewellers' shops, there are masses of precious stones, enclosed in coffers which they keep con stantly under their eyes, or which are placed within wire- work enclosures ; and in many of these obscure shops (more resembling cobblers' stalls than anything else) incredible riches are accumulated. Diamonds from Visa- pore and Golconda, brought by the caravans ; rubies of Giamschid ; pearls of Ophir ; topazes from Brazil ; and opals from Bohemia, in great abundance ; with turquoises, garnets, aqua-marines, and agates, without number, and literally lying in heaps, in the shops. The Turks are very fond of precious stones ; and this not merely as luxuries, but as depositaries of wealth. Ignorant of the refinements of modern finance, they draw no interest from their capital; — so doing being, indeed, rigorously pro hibited by the Koran ; and it is for this reason, that we find the proposals for " Turkish Loans " always violently opposed by the old Turkish partj'. A diamond is not only easy to conceal, and to carry, but embodies a very large value in a minute compass ; and, in an eastern point of view, is a most desirable investment, although it makes no retum ; but, nevertheless, if you try to tempt Arab or Turk to part with the stone jar in which he conceals his treasure, under the inducement of four or five per cent., somehow or other, the thing seems suddenly to have been permitted by Mahomet. These precious stones are generally either uncut, or only rose-cut; for the Orientals themselves do not cut diamonds or rubies — either from not understanding the process, or not possessing the diamond-dust necessary for 130 CONSTANTINOPLE. the purpose, or from an unwilling-ness to diminish the weight of the stones themselves. The settings, of such stones as are mounted, are coarse and massive, and in the antique Genoese style. The exquisite skill of the Arabs in the working of jewelry, has left few traces among the Turks. The jewels consist chiefly of necklaces, earrings, head-ornaments, stars, flowers, crescents, rings for the ankles, and handles of sabres or poignards ; but they are never displaj'ed in all their splendour, except in the re cesses of the harem ; where they adorn the lovely forms of the odalisques, reclining, beneath the eye of the master, in a comer of the divan ; — and all this magnificence is, for strangers, as if it did not exist. Although the wealth of the foregoing sentences — starred, as they are, with the names of precious stones — may have made the reader dream of the Cave of Aboul- cassem, {again involuntarily returning to that inexhaustible mine of oriental imagery and association — " The Arabian Nights,") he must imagine nothing of particular brilliancy in the aspect of the jewellers' shops themselves — for the Turks do not understand the art of displaying any of their wares ; and the rough diamonds, and other stones, lying in little boxes of eommon wood, really look little different ft-om bits of glass ; although, in fact, one might easily spend 1,000,000 of francs, in any one of these obscure and paltry shops. But, the " Bazaar of Arms " may be considered as the very heart of Islam, and of Turkey as it was. No new ideas have inti-uded there. The party of " Old Turkey " sits there, in solemn and cross-legged coraposure ; profess ing, for the " dogs of Christians," a contempt as profound as in the days of Mahomet II. Time has stood stiU for these worthy Osmanli, who yet grieve for the janissaries and the ancient barbarisms — perhaps, with some reason. THE BAZAARS. 131 Among thera, you find the great, overhanging turbans ; dolmans, bordered with fur ; huge Mameluke trousers ; enormously broad sashes ; and all the other elements of thc rcnllj' "classic" Turkish costume; such ns wc have, all our lives, connected with the ideal of " a Turk." There, too, are those faces, as impassive, as fixed, as Fate itself; those grave, stern ej-cs ; the hawk nose, curving above the long and snowy beard; the sallow cheeks; the robust frame, weakened by the use of opium, and other sensual indulgences : in short, that aspect of the Turk of pure race, and ancient faith, which is rapidly disappearing, and will soon be found onlj' in the very heart of Asia. At noon, the Bazaar of Arms closes its doors, in con tempt of custom ; and these millionaire merchants retire to .their kiosks, on the shores of the Bosphorus, where, un happily, they are compelled to look out upou crowds of Christian ships and flags, and, above all, upon steamers — those di.abolical inventions of the accursed Frankish dogs ! The riches heaped up in this bazaar are incalculable, and the assemblage of rare and antique arms is astonish ingly curious. There are Damascus blades, similar to that with which Saladin severed his scarf of gauze, while floating in the air, in presence of Richard Coeur-de- Lion, who had just severed a bar of steel, with his own mighty, two-handed sword; here are kandjars, the dull and blue steel of which, pierces a cuirass as if it were paper, and the handles of which are mere masses of jewels ; old guns — wonders of carving and inlaying ; battle-axes, which may have served Timour, Genghis-Khan, or Scander- berg, to hammer the helmets and heads of their enemies ; and, in fact, the whole savage and barbarous arsenal of ancient Islam. , There, glow and sparkle, in a ray of sunlight falling 132 CONSTANTINOPLE. from the arched roof, saddles and housings, embroidered with gold or silver, and literacy blazing with suns and moons of diamonds, and stars of sapphires; bits and stirrups of silver-gilt ; and caparisons, whose oriental magnificence has decked the noble coursers of Nedji — those worthy descendants of Dahi, of Rabra, Haffar, Na- amah, and other world-renowned steeds, of the matchless old races of Islam and the Desert. It is a thing very remarkable, amidst the general care lessness and fatalism of the Moslemah, that this bazaar is considered so precious, that smoking is strictly prohibited within its precincts ! This one word says everything ; for the Turkish fatalist would, ordinarily, light his pipe while sitting in a powder magazine. By way of contrast to these splendours, let us speak, for a moment, of the " Lice-Bazaar." It is the dead- house, the charnel, the knacker's-yard, in which all these magnificent things finally end their career, after passing through the numerous stages of their decadence. The caftan which has shone upon the shoulders of a vizier or pasha, finishes its course upon the back of a porter or groom. The embroidered jacket, which concealed the wealth of loveliness of some fair Georgian of the harem, envelopes, when soiled and faded, the mummified carcass of some old beggar-woman. It is an incredible agglomeration of rags and lea-rings, in which whatever is not a hole, is a stain ; and all of which hangs and swings upon rusty nails, with that vague sort of human look, invariably acquired by clothes wom for a length of time — seeming almost as if the ghosts of the former owners must still inhabit the spectral garments. In other times, the Plague lay hidden among the folds of these nameless rags ; and slept there, like a gigantic spider, concealed in the depths of his dusty web, in some THE BAZAARS. 133 dark and obscure corner, and waiting the approach of his victim. The " Rastro " of Madrid, the " Temple " in Paris, or the ancient " Alsatia " of London, could offer no parallel to this vast cemetery of oriental finery — known by the hor ribly significant name whieh I have mentioned above, but which I will not repeat. I trust that my readers wiU forgive me this squalid picture, in consideration of the jewels, the embroideries, and the perfumes, of which the rest of my chapter is redo lent, or with which it sparkles ; but, in any case, my con science acquits me ; for the traveller is like the doctor — he may say anything, and of anything. « 134 CONSTANTINOPLE. XI, THE DANCINO DERVISHES, The dancing dervishes, or mevelaioites, are a kind of Ma hometan monks, who live in coramunity, in the monas teries called tekkis. The word " Dervish," signifies " poor ;" but this does not prevent their communities from possess ing great wealth, derived from the legacies and gifts of the faithful. This designation, once true, is still retained ; although it has long, ceased to be applicable. The muftis and ulemahs, — the regular authorities and priests of Mahometan law and religiou — look with no favourable eye upon the dervishes ; whether from some secret difference of doctrine, or from the influence which the latter have with the multitude, or only from the dis like which the regular clergy always feel towards the itinerant or mendicant orders, I am not sufficiently profound in Mahoraetan doctrine to declare ; and I shall, there fore, limit myself to looking at the dervishes in a purely pictorial point of vievi', and to describing, as I best may, their singular and remarkable exercises. Contrary to the custom of all the other Moslemah, who refuse to let Giaours be present at any of their religious ceremonials, and drive them with violence from the mosques, if they intrude during the hours of prayer, the dervishes permit Europeans to penetrate to the very heart of their tekkes, on the sole condition of leaving their boots or shoes at the entrance, and entering in bare feet or with slippers. They chaunt their litanies, and perform their THE DANCING DERVISHES. 135 evolutions, without seeming in the least disturbed by the presence of Christians ; whose attendance as spectators, is said, on the contrary, to be regarded by them as rather flattering than otherwise. The tekke of Pera is situated upon a spot crowded ¦with tombs, and encumbered with gravestones of marble, and funereal cypresses; being a sort of continuation of the Little Field. The front of the building is very siraple, being com posed of a doorway, surmounted by an entablature, bearing an inscription ; a wall, pierced with grated windows, ex posing to view the sepulchres of the ancient dervishes — for in Turkey the dead are always at the elbow of the living — and a fountain furnished with drinking-cups for the poor, surrounded with porters, fatigued by the terrible ascent of the hill of Galata. About all this, there is nothing monumental, but it is not without character. The spreading larch trees of the garden, and the blue cupola and white minarets of the mosque which forms a part of the structure, seen above the walls against the blue sky, combine to recall the presence of the Orient. The interior resembles that of all other Mahometan buildings. There are none of those long arched cloisters, or those interminable corridors, out of which open long ranges of cells ; — pious prisons of voluntary recluses ; — of those silent courts, where the grass grows amid the paved walks, and the fountain is green with the moss of solitude : nothing, in short, of that cold and sepulchral aspect which is associated with the word "Monastery" in all Catholic countries. On the contrary, cheerful apartments, painted in gay colours, gladdened by sunlight, and having a superb view of the Bosphorus — a magnificent panorama, bathed in air and light. Scutari and Kadi-Keni, lying outspread upon 136 CONSTANTINOPLE. the Asiatic shore ; the Olympus of Bithynia, wrapped in snow ; the Isles of Princes — spots of blue, upon the rippled surface of the sea; Serai-Bournou, with its palaces, its kiosks, and its gardens ; Sultan-Achmet, flanked by its six minarets ; the forest created by the masts of ships of all nations : all combine to form a spectacle, ever changing, ever new, and on which one could gaze for ever, without weariness, or sense of monotony. The hall in which the dervishes execute their religious dances, is at the extremity of the court of the convent. The external appearance of the edifice gives no indication of its use, except by the inscription of a few ciphers, and some verses of the Koran, above its entrance ; -written with that wonderful skill and certitude of hand, whieh the Turks possess in such a remarkable degree. These ciphers and inscriptions form a prominent feature in oriental orna mentation — for they are as much arabesques as letters. The interior of this hall reserables, at once, a ball-room and a theatre. The centre presents a fioor, perfectly smooth and highly polished, enclosed by a circular balus trade, about three feet in height ; some slender columns support a gallery, which forms the same circuit, and con tains places for persons of distinction, a box for the Sidtan, and others prepared for females. These last (termed the serail) are defended from the profane gaze, bj' close lattices, similar to those seen at the windows of the harems. The orchestra is placed at the end, opposite to the mirah, or pulpit, which is ornamented with tablets, inscribed with the never-failing verses of the Koran, and with the mono grams of sultans or viziers, who have been benefactors of the order. All this is painted in blue and white, and ex hibits a remarkable purity of colour, greatly enhancing the gay and joyous air of the place. One would imagine himself awaiiting the performances of a class about to THE DANCING DERVISHES. 107 practise a waltz of CcUarius, rather than the reUgious exercises of a sect of fanatics. I seated myself, cross-legged, amidst a number of Turks aud Franks, aU alike barefooted ; and all close to the balustrade, so as to lose nothing of the approaching exhibition. After a long delay, the Dervishes came slowly in, two-and-two ; and the chief of the commimity seated himself upon a carpet of gazelle skins, before the mirah, and between two acolytes. He was a little old man, with a leaden complexion, wrinkled visage, and sparse beard ; his eyes, sparkling from time to time, gave the only air of life which was discernible in his impassive, and almost coi-pse-like face. The Der-vishes defile before him, saluting him in the Eastei-n manner, with the most profound marks of respect, as if he were a Sultan or a Saint. This salute was at once an act of politeness, an obeisance, and a reUgious evolution — the movements were slow, rhythmical, and recurring ; — and the rite finished. Each Dervish took his place in front of the mirah. The head-dress of these Mahometan monks, consisted of a cap of felt, about an inch in height, of a brown or msset colour, and which cannot be better compared, as to its form, than to a shallow flower-pot, inverted, and into which they had stuck their heads. They wore jackets of a white stuff, immense tunics or petticoats of the same hue — much resembling the tunics worn by the Greeks — and close white trousers descending to the ankle ; about all which there was certainly nothing strikingly monkish, although not deflcient in a sort of elegance. For the moment they could not be seen distinctly ; for they were wrapped in mantles of blue, green, and other colom-s, which made no part of their unifoi-ir., nnd which they 138 CONSTANTINOPLE. threw aside at the commencement of their dance, to re sume them again, when sinking, exhausted, streaming with perspiration, and overcome with ecstacy and fatigue. The prayers commenced, and with them the genuflex ions, prostrations, and grimaces, usual to the Mussulman ritual : so droll to us, and indeed so laughable, but for a conviction of the sincerity of the devotees. These alterna tions of elevation and abasement, remind one of fowls, who plunge their beaks eagerly to the ground, aud raise them again as rapidlj' after having seized the grain, or the worm which they sought. These orisons were rather long, or at least seemed so, to our impatient expectation of what was to follow ; as indeed they must ever do to Europeans, who derive fi-om them no hope of reposing, after death, beneath the shade of thc tree " Tuba," in the harem-paradise of Mahomet ; or of mirroring themselves throughout eternity, in the black ej'cs of the ever-immaculate and ever-youthful houris. Nevertheless, these pious murmurs, by their monotonous persistence, had a remarkable effect upon the system of even the unbelievers; and inight, therefore, well impress in a manner still more extraordinary, those who took part in it with the additional mcitement of absolute beUef; raising them to a point of ecstacy, or sort of religious catalepsy, similar to that extra-natm-al insen sibility of martyrs amidst the most horrible tortm-es. When they had chanted enough verses of the Koran, wagged their heads sufficiently, and made a satisfactory number of prostrations, the Dervishes rose in a body, threw aside their mantles., aud again marched in procession — two-and-tv,'o — around the hall. Eaeh couple passed in front of thc superior, who remained standing, and after ex changing salutations with them, made to each a sort of ges ture of benediction, or magnetic pass ; which was executed THE DANCING DERVISHES. 139 in a very singidar manner. The last Dervish of each couple thus blessed, took by the hand one of the next couple, and appeared to present him to the Iman ; the same ceremony bciug repeated from group to group, until nil had passed. A remarkable change was already effected in the phj'siognomies of the Dervishes, thus prepared for their fit of ecstacy. On entering, thej' had a dull, depressed, and drowsy air ; their heads drooped upon their breasts, or were buried beneath theii- dark caps ; but now their visages brightened, their eyes began to sparkle, they held themselves more erect, and trod more firmly, and the heels of their feet began to beat time upon the floor, with an involuntary sort of nervous action. To the nasal chanting of passages from the Koran, was now added an accompaniment of flutes and tarboukas. The tarboukas marked the measure, and formed the bass ; and the flutes performed, in unison, a continuous strain of a very high pitch, and of wonderful s-weetness. The "motive" of the tune, recurred invariably after a few variations, and was constantly sustained ; producing at length an irresistible effect upon the sensibihties, and inducing an involuntary sympathy with its expression ; as some classes of female beauty reveal themselves only gradually, and seem to augment in loveUness as you con tinue to contemplate them. This tune, of a singular and wUd character, was strangely touchmg and intoxicating in its effect ; and filled my mind with various dreams and emotions, aU tending, however, towards a disposition to abandon mj-self to the movement of tlie music. Recol lections of some past existence seemed to be crowding upon me ; faces weU known, but which I have never en countered in tliis world, appeared to smile upon me, with an indefinable expression of love and reproach ; innu merable images of long-forgotten di-eams floated around J 2 140 CONSTANTINOPLE, me ; and I began to balance my head from shoulder to shoulder, overpowered by the potency of incantation and evocation, of music so opposed to all my experiences, and at the same time of such penetrating and intoxicating sweetness. Motionless, in the middle of the cii-eular area already described, the Dervishes appeared as if graduaUy intoxi cating themselves with the music, so delicatelj' barbarous and so melodiously savage ; of which thc primitive burthen is traceable, perhaps, to the earliest ages ofthe world. At lengtii one of them opened his arms, exteuded them horizontaUy, and began to turn slowly round, -without otherwise changing hisposition, gently moving his bare- feet, which made no sound upon the iiolished floor. His tunic, Uke a bird about to take flight, began to tremble, and slightly to rise and fall. The speed of the movement increased; the fragile tissue of the dress, lifted by the air, in which it revolved, spread itself in a circle and took the form of a bell, until at length it resembled a mere whirlwind of white, of which the Dei-^-ish formed the centre. To the first who commenced these evolutions was soon added a second, then a third, until the -whole band had foUowed, seized by some sort of irresistible vertigo. They waltzed vrith their arms extended, the head leaning upon the shoulder, the ey^s partiallj' closed, and the mouth half open, like bold swimmers, who abandoned themselves to the current of some flood of ecstacy. Their movements werc regular, undulating, aud showing an agilitj' quite extraordinarj' ; no apparent effort, no appear ance of fatigue. The most intrepid German waltzer would havc dropped down dead with suffocation ^nd giddiness, while thcy continued to turn, cach upou his own centre, ns if driven THE DANCING DERVISHES, 141 by some irresistible imj^ulse ; and appearing Uke tops, which seem immoveable at the moment when they revolve ^ ¦with the most dazzling rapidity, and appear to sleep to the sound of their oAvn whirling. It was astonishing to sce twenty or more of them in one group, pirouetting in the middle of their robes, out spread tUl they resembled the chaUce of some vast lily inverted, without ever jostling one another, or moving out of the orbit of their own particular whirlwind, or losing for an instant the measure indicated by the tar boukas. The Iman moved about aniong the groups, sometimes clapping his hands, either to cause the orchestra to quicken or retard the measure, or to encourage the dancers, and applaud their pious zeal. His impassive -risage formed a striking contrast to aU those flushed and con vulsed faces ; and that passionless and cold old man passed, with the step of a phantom, among those frenzied groups, as if he had no share in their faith, or had long since become insensible to the intoxication which so wrought upon them ; as persons become from long habit caUous to the effect of even the most potent drugs. There was now a pause in the dance. The Derrishes formed again in couples, and again passed in procession, two or three times around the haU. Tbis evolution, per formed at a very gentle pacc, gave them time to take breath and recover themselves. What I had already seen (as I soon discovered) had been, as it were, but the prelude to the symphony : the introduction of the poem ; the preparation for the waltz. The tarboukas began to give forth a much quicker measure ; the tones of the flutes became shi-Uler, and the Dervishes resumed their dance -with redoubled activity. 142 CONST.ANTINOPLE. This activity had, however, nothing disorderly nor feverish about it, but was strictly regulated and restrained by the time of the music. The rotatory movement became more rapid, the number of tm-ns executed in a minute was greatly increased ; but each waltzer remained calm and silent in his own position ; seeming, indeed, more fixed and more erect, like a top as it augments its velocity, The dancers raised their ai-nis, or let them fall lightly, according to the degree of fatigue or of ecstacy which they experienced ; sometimes the head was thrown back, the eyes half shut, and the inouth partly opened ; or, at Other moments, it fell upon the chest, not as if fatigued, but as if thcy were overpowered bj' the excess of voluptuous sensation : or yet more frequently, the head rested upon one lifted arm, as though upon a pillow, in full enjoj'ment of some celestial cheam. One old man, with a " Socratic " kind of face, ugly enough while in repose, waltzed with a vigour and per sistency, amazing in one of his age ; and his common place visage took, under the magical excitement of the dance, an aspect of positive beauty. The soul, so to speak, shone in the face, and overpowered its physical defects, by the glow of enthusiasm with which it brightened the visage. Many other and very singular varieties of ex pression and attitude were traceable among the throng ; and not a few countenances and foi-ms of most surpassing majesty and beauty ; all pervaded by the one indescribable expression of a bliss almost superhuman. What could they see in their strange and enraptured ¦risions ? The forests of emerald with fruit of rubies ; the mountains of amber and of myrrh; the kiosks of diamonds, and tents of pearl, of the Paradise of Mahomet ? Their smiling Ups were, sm-ely, tasting the perfumed kisses of the many-coloured houris of that sensual heaven ; THE DANCING DERVISHES. 143 their fix^d gaze was fastened, doubtless, upon the splen dours of that Throne of Allah, which is wrapped in light too dazzling for ordinary human conception ; and this dull earth, which they barely touched in their aerial move ments, had disappcai-ed like a light mist, before these surpassing splendom-S, while the ecstatics were floating passively in the great infinity of space. Again the tarboukas quicken their measure, and the flutes attain a height and clearness of tone, whose fineness seems to suggest an air-drawn thread of crystal, of miractdous tenuity and brightness. The Dervishes liter aUy disappear in the vaporous cloud, formed by their sno-wy robes ; and nothing is seen but innumerable re volring clouds of white, like shadows of spirits, or outspread wings of some strange celestial birds. Occasionally a single Dervish pauses. His robe con tinues to flutter for some moments, until, no longer sus tained by the rotatory inotion of its wearer, it sinks again into quiescence, and resumes its perpendicular folds, re sembling those of some antique Grecian drapery. Then the Derrish drops upon his knees, with his face to the ground, and a lay-brother approaches and enwraps him in one of those mantles which I have already described ; as a jockey carefully covers the noble racer who has just finished a course. The Iman draws near the prostrate Dervish, mutters over him some sacred formula, and then proceeds to the next. Presently the whole brotherhood are prostrate, over powered by the excess of their excitement, and the vio lence of their exercise. Before long, however, they rise again ; make once more the circuit of the haU, and issue from the apartment in the same order as that in which they entered it ; — while I go to seek my shoes at the door, confused with this giddy spectacle; and for the 144 CONSTANTINOPLE. whole remainder of the day, I see before my eyes nothing but whirl-winds of white tunics, and hear nothing but the monotonous mm-mur of the implacably sweet and persis tent air of the flutes of the Derrishes, shrUling through and above the deep bass growling of the tarboukas. THE HOWLING DERVISHES. 145 XII. THE HOWLING DERVISHES. After seeing the "Dancing Dervishes" of Pera, one should make a risit to the "Howling Dervishes" of Scutari. I, therefore, took a caique at Top-Hane, with two pairs of oars, manned by two vigorous Arnaouts, which soon bore me towards the coast of Asia, despite the riolence of the current. The boiUng and surging waters sparkled in the sun Ught in milUons of streaks of silver, shaded by clouds of black and white birds (known by the poetic name of " souls in torment," because of their perpetual rest lessness), who slum along the surface of the Bosphorus in flights of two or three hundred, with inconceiv able rapidity, their feet in the water, and their wings in the air, as if they pursued some invisible prey : they have, on this account, obtained the additional designation of " wind-chasers." As they approach, they seem Uke clouds of dry leaves driven before the autumn wind, and suggest aU sorts of dreamy ideas and associations. The landing-place of Scutari presents a most pic turesque appearance. A sort of floating stage, composed of great beams, on which guUs and albatrosses were lying, formed the foreground, jointly with a cafe surrounded by benches fiUed with smokers, and which projected into the water upon a little mole ; aroxmd were moored throngs of caiques, canoes, feluccas, and boats of everj' descrip- 146 CONSTANTINOPLE. tion, while fig-trees, and other trees of brilliant green, gave force and contrast to the picture. , The white walls of the mosque of Buyuck-Djami ap peared in the back-ground. This mosque has a fine effect, with its cupola, its rainaret, its roof dotted with numerous domes, its Arabic arcades, broad flights of steps, and masses of masonry, intermingled with tufts of verdant foliage. A fountain, adoi-ned with arabesques, smTOunded with flo' and iced- water, at a cafe situated near the entrance of the cemetery.' We are served by a bright-eyed Uttle boj', who seems to multiply himself miraculously, to meet the perpetual and conflicting demands of the numerous customers. He often brings "fire" in one hand, and water in the other ; Uke those Uttle genii, who assisted at thc initiations into thc antique " nij'sterics," and who are portrayed in such impossible attitudes upon the Etruscan vases. Having exhausted all the amusement derivable from the coffee and the cafe, we entered the court of the Tekke. ' The reader will be pleased to remember, that this is not the disused Great or Little Field of Pera, but tho great cemetery of Scutari, on the opposite side of the Bosphorus, aud in constant use for interments, — Trans. 150 CONSTANTINOPLE. It is ornamented with a fountain, in the form of a tomb ; recaUing to mind those coffins covered with cashmere, which are visible through the gratings of the funeral chapels of the Sultans. A vendor of cakes made of rice (and which are eaten sprinkled with a little cheny or rose water), afforded us the means of appeasing, or rather of deluding, our appetites ; sharpened, as they were, by the fresh air of the sea, oiu- long walk, and the lapse of time since om- fr-ugal, but detestable breakfast. This cake- dealer carried his wares upon a very clean tray of bright tin, suspended before him, and his merchandise had, at least, the merit of not being dear. For a few pieces of money, the value of which was scarcely appreciable, one ¦ could gorge himself. Near the gate of the Tekke, was seated a very strange- looking person, wrapped in a loose robe of camels' -skin, fastened with a rope ; his head being encircled by a bit of old rag, twisted into the form of a turban ; whUe his whole aspect, and the mould of his featm-es, were among the most remarkable, as well as the most hideous, that I have ever beheld. Had he been di-essed in motley, he would have passed for a revivification of one of those professed fools or jesters, who, in the olden time, formed a pai-t of the establishments of the great ; and who were as much prized for grotesque ugUness, as for wit. This poor wretch was, in fact, a fool ; and it is weU known what Ucence' the Turks allow idiots and madmen, and how much thej' even reverence their persons and vagaries, under a behef that their condition is not merely " a risita tion of God," but an evidence of actual inspiration. This unfortunate had conceived a pai ticular affection for the com-t of the Tekke ; and would remain there the whole day, seated upon one particulai- block of stone, wae'eing his head from side to side, and chattering the THE HOWLING DERVISHES. 151 Mahometan Utany ; roUing, meantime, a rosary between his fingers, and pursuing some vague fancy, whioh caused him to wear perpetuaUy that vacant and painful smile which characterises his class. AVrapped in profoimd abstraction, disturbed only by some occasional activity, unwonted in degree, on the part of the vermin who in habited his person and garments (aud whom he disposed of after the mamier of MuriUo's mendicant), he seemed to enjoj' the most perfect beatitude. Some devotees piously embraced this disgusting ob ject (who received theii- semi-adoration as passively as a Japanese idol), and then, divesting themselves of their shoes, proceeded to the interior of the building. As to om-selves, we were not permitted to enter imtil the preUminary prayers were finished ; but we could hear, from -without, chants of a grave and elevated character, not unUke the Gregorian-chant, and to which the guttural tones of the Turkish language gave a certain wild and savage power. We thrcw off our shoes among the heap of the same accumulated at thc door, and took our stand behind a wooden balustrade, together with some Other strangers, among whom were two capuchin monks in fuU costume ; frocks on their shoulders and ropes around their waists. They did not seem, however, to be regarded with any hostUity by thc Mussulman portion of the assembly ; a degree of toleration, at once singular and creditable, in a conventicle of fanatics of another creed. The hall of the Derrishes of Scutari is not circular, like that of those of Pera, but is a simple paraUelogram, devoid of all architectural character. Upon the bare walls are' suspended a dozen or so of enormous tambou rines, and some tablets inscribed with verses of the Koran. Beside the mirah, and above the carpet where the Iman 152 CONSTANTINOPLE. and his acolytes take their seats, the wall presents a ferocious sort of decoration, reminding one of the chamber of a tortm-er or inquisitor. This consists of some darts, terminating in a heart of lead, whence hang chains, spikes, pincers, and many varieties of arms and instruments of the most barbarous appearance, and for the most incom prehensible purposes ; but stOl, with that sort of horrible air about them, which makes the blood curdle and the skin creep, as when beholding the outspread instruments of a surgeon, just prior to the performance of an operation. It is with these atrocious instruments that the Howling Den'ishes scourge and wound themselves, when they attain the climax of their religious delirimu, and when cries alone are inadequate to the expression of their holy phrenzy. The Iman was a great, gaunt, meagre figure, -srith a deeply-marked face, — full, however, of force and majesty. Beside him stood a handsome yomig man, in a white tm-bau fastened with a transverse band of gold and a green pelisse, like those worn by the descendants of the Prophet, orthe hadjis, who have performed the pilgTimage to Mecca ; whose chiselled features indicated rather an Arabic than a Turkish origin. In front were ranged the Dervishes in a posture of devotion, repeating in unison a sort of litanj', intoned bj' one of their number, in a stentorian voice. At each verse they moved their heads forward and backward, with a motion calculated almost to produce a sjaupathetic gid diness in the spectators. OccasionaUy one of these last (among the Mussulman part of the audience), attracted by the contagion of this oscillation, quitted his place in the chancel and mingled with thc iJcrvislios, where hc knelt beside the others, and began balancing hiniself Uke a bear in a cage. THE HOWLING DERVISHES. lo3 The chant grew louder and louder ; the movement of the heads quickened ; the visages of the Dervishes began to grow livid, and their chests to pant. The speaker uttei-cd his words with redoubled encrgj- ; and wo awaited, with anxious expectancj-, that which was to follow. Some of the Dervishes, excited to the proper degree, nrose, and continued their bowing movement with such violence, that thcy seemed in danger of cracking their skulls against the walls, or of dislocating the vertebras of their spines. Presently aU were standing. This is the moment when the gigantic tambourines should be brought into plaj' ; but this tirae it wa-s not doue, the " subjects " being aheady sufficiently excited ; and, moreover, the fast of Ramadan beiug in force, it was not desired to overtax their powers. They now formed a chain, by putting their hands on each other's shoulders, and began to justify their distinc tive name, by hearing up from the very depths of their chests a hoarse and prolonged cry, or howl, of " Allah- hou !" which hardly seemed to come from any human voice. The whole band, animated as it were bj- one feeling, retired one step simultaneously, and then threw themselves forward with an equaUj' simultaneous plunge ; shouting in a deep tone, which reserabled the growling of a menagerie, when the Uons, tigers, panthers, and hyenas are all en raged by some unexpected postponement of their feeding- time. Little by little the inspiration comes. Their eyes begin to shine, like those of wUd beasts in the depths of a dark cavem ; an epileptic foam gathers about their Ups ; their countenances are distorted, and shine lividly through profuse prespiration. The whole Une falls back nt once, before some invisible gust, like reeds before a tempest. 154 CONSTANTINOPLE. and then rises again as suddenly; and always, at each for ward plunge, the terrible "Allah-hou !" bm-sts forth vrith increasing fury ! How shouts of such unearthly violence, repeated during more than an hour, could fail to burst the osseous frame of the chest and fiood the lungs with blood, fi-om ruptured vessels, is inexplicable. The shouts became, after a time, mere roarings ; and one Dervish in particular, with a face of miraculous sallow-ness and leanness, a gigantic fleshless frame to match, and a voice deep and cavernous beyond expression, balanced his head amid its matted locks of long black hair, and tore up, as it were, fr-om his skeleton chest, the growls of a tiger, — the roars of a Uon, — the yeUs of a woimded wolf bleeding in the snow ; — cries fuU of rage and J'et of longing, the vague utterance of some unknown and fierce voluptuousness ; — blended, sometimes, with sighs of human sorrow or weakness, — protests of the frail bodj', bumed and bruised by the fiery and restless soul. Excited by the feverish ardour of this infuriated de- yotee, aU the troop threw themselves back again in one mass, and then forward, like a Une of intoxicated soldiers, j'elling out, at the same instant, one supreme "Allah-hou ! ' ' with a sound comparable to nothing earthly, uidess to the voice of some mammoth or mastodon, buiied amid the colossal herbage of an antedilurian marsh. The floor trembled beneath the measured tramping of the phrenzicd band, and the waUs seemed ready to tumble in ruins about us, like those of a second Jericho ; shaken to theii- foun- datious, by the tumult and uproar of these horrible and tremendous clamours. The two capuchin monks (whom I have already named as spectators) laughed, foolishly, in their sleeves, at what they considered the absm-dity of all this ; forgetting that they themselves were a kind of Catholic Dei-rishes, morti- TUE HOWLING DERVISHES. 155 fj'ing themselves in another mnnner, to approach a Deity of different attributes. The Dervishes seek " AUah," and address Him in their howUngs, as the Capuchins seek Jehovah in their prayers, their fasts, and their ascetic exercises. I confess that this want of tolerance, nay, even of intelUgence, annoyed me excessively; for sincerity de serves respect everywhere, and however mistaken its manifestation ; and, to me, this ridicule seemed sadly misplrfced ; for I can appreciate, alike, the Hindoo Fakir, the Trappist, and the Dervish, writhing beneath the immense pressure of the vague Infinite, and seeking to appease " the Unknown God, whom they ignorantly wor ship," by the immolation of their bodies and Ubations of their blood. And now the exaltation had reached its climax. The howls, or shouts, succeeded each other without interval or cessation, and a sort of wild-beast odour was emitted from this mass of heated and sweltering bodies. Through the dust raised by their trampling feet, gleamed vaguelj', as through an ensanguined mist, visages con-vulsed, distorted, and phrenzied, iUumined by white ej'es and deUrious smUes. The Iman remained standing before the mirah, en couraging the growing phrenzy by voice and gesture. A J'outh detached himself from the group and advanced towards the old man ; and now we saw the use of some portions of the terrible instruments suspended from the wall. The assistants of the Iman took from the waU an exceedingly sharp sort of spike,, or skewer, and handed it to their superior, who instantly transfixed with it both cheeks of the yomig devotee, without his showing the least sign of suffering. This operation performed, he returned to his place, and continued his movements as K 2 156 CONSTANTINOPLE. before. It is difficult to imagine anything more strange in appearance, than this head thus "spitted;" and it would have seemed like some trick of a pantomime, but for the horrible consciousness of its reaUty. Two other fanatics now sprung into the centre of the haU, and were supplied with two of those darts (already described), terminating in leaden hearts, and garnished with nmnerous sniaU chains of iron. Taking these in their hands, they began a sort of poignard-dance, full of extra ordinary and violent movements ; but, iustead of shunning the points of the darts, they sought every opportimity to wound themselves with them, and to scoui-ge theniselves with the iron chains, until they feU exhausted to the ground, recking with blood and perspiration, and foaming like horses goaded to the utmost by the spur, and faUing with fatigue before reaching the goal. Presently, a pretty little girl, seven or eight years of age, who had been standing near the door dm-ing thc whole ceremonj', advanced aloue towards the Iman, who received her in a paternal aud affectionate manner. She then extended herself upon a sheepskin, wliich lay unroUed upon the floor, and the Iman, with a pair of lai-ge slippers upon his feet and supported bj' two of his attendants, mounted upon her little bodj', and stood there for several sesonds. 'WTien he descended from this living pedestal, the little girl rose and withdrew, with an air of intense reverence and deUght. Some women theu brought several children, of three or four years of age, and placed them successively upon the sheepskin, where they were affectionately trampled upon by the gigantic Iman. Some took it very kindly, but others cried like jays plucked alive. Their eyes seemed starting fi-om their heads, and their little sides ready to bm-st with the enormous pressure ; but the mothers THE HOWLING DERVISHES, 157 (whose eyes sparkled with delight and implicit faith) took them again in their arms, and soothed them with a few caresses ; evidentlj' strong in the universal Mussulman belief, that this imposition of tho feet of the holy man is at once a cure nnd preventive for all maladies. To the children, succeeded j'oung people, and even grown-up men and soldiers ; nay, even one superior officer submitted to this singular ordeal. As we issued from the haU, we encountered the young man whose cheeks the Iman had transfixed with the skewer. He had withdrawn the instrument of torture, and seemed none the worse for the operation ; a small spot of purple on cither check, being the sole remaining indication of the passage of the iron. 158 CONSTANTINOPLE, XIII. THE CEMETEBY OF SCUTAEI. I HAEDLT know why the Turkish cemeteries inspire nothing of the sadness which attaches to those of Christian lands. A -risit to Pere-Lachaise plunges me into a sort of funereal melancholy, which lasts for several days ; whUe I have passed successive hom-s in the cemeteries of Pera and Scutari, -without any other feeling than that of a pleasing and dreamy pensiveness. Is it to the beauty of the sky, the clearness of the air, or the romantic charm of the situation, that this difference is attributable ? or to some unconscious reUgious prejudice, causing one to regard with less reverence the tombs of " infidels," with whose futm-e we have nothing in eommon ? These are questions which I cannot answer, although I have reflected much upon the subject ; and the thing is perhaps reaUy attributable to causes purely local, and to a natm-al accordance with the feeUng which prevails around one. CathoUcism, nay, even Protestantism, has surrounded death -with a certain sombre poetry of dread, unknown alike to Paganism and Mahometanism. It has imparted to its sepulchres lugubrious and caduvcrcms aspects and forms, combined to augment the sentiment of terror or repugnance already created, as completely as the antique urns suggest a contraiy sentiment, with their gay bas- reliefs, or their graceful genii sporting amid flowers ; or THE CEMETERY OF SCUTARI. 159 the Mussulman tombs, enriched with blue and gold, and seeming, beneath the shade of overhanging foliage, rather kiosks devoted to eternal repose and peace, than the cold mid damp abodes of mouldering corpses. Iu these cemeteries, I have often smoked my pipe whUe seated upon a grave ; an act which, in France, would have seemed strangely irreverent ; while only a thin slab of marble and a few inches of moidd separated me from the remains of a fellow-man. More than once, I have traversed the cemeteiy of Pera by night, at an hour when the white sepulchral columns took the most fantastic forms in the moonUght, and seemed to range themselves in the fluctuating shadow, Uke the risen nuns in " Robert lc Diable," — without a single added pulsation of the heart acknowledging any thing of terror, or even of solemnity, in the scene ; a process which, I fi-ankly confess, I could not go through in the cemetery of Montmartre, without a feeling of horror, and a nervous trepidation that would make me start at the slightest noise ; although I have, a hundi-cd limes, iu mj' travels, encountered dangers fai- more real, with far less of trepidation. But, in the East, (as one caimot but perpetuaUy remark) death blends so famiUarly -with life, that it loses its terror to a degree almost incredible.* The dead, above whose resting-place you drink your coffee or smoke your pipe, can never become spectres for ' It may, perhaps, be excusable to confirm the author's observa tions on this point, by an allusion to the small value at which human life is estimated in China; where, owing to the prevalence of the same despotism; whioh (by the constant and sudden recurrence of capital punishment) has destroyed all its sanctity in Turkey, human life is so lightly esteemed, that a man conderaned to death can obtain a substitute to suffer in his stead, for a sum equivalent to little more than ten pounds sterling! — Teans. 160 CONSTANTINOPLE. you. Thus, on issuing from the " menagerie " of the Howling Dervishes, I acceded, with pleasure, to a pro position, that we should forget the horror of the spectacle we had just witnessed, in a promenade through the great Cemetery of Scutari; the best situated, the largest, and the most " frequented" (by both dead and Uving), of any in the whole East. It is an iramense forest of cj-press, covering a hilly site, intersected by large avenues, and bristling with tombstones throughout a space of more than three miles in extent. One can form no idea, in northern coun tries, fiom the poor dwarfed spindles which are there called cypresses, of the beauty, grandeur, and majesty, attained, beneath a southern sky, by these protectors of the sepulchre ; which, however, from their arousing no melancholy sentiment, are as often ornaments of the garden as of the tomb. With advanced age, the trunk of the cj'press becomes divided into cylindrical sections, resembling those aggre gations of columns so common in gothic cathedrals ; its bark acquires a gray and silvery hue, ard the branches form strange and grotesque angles, without disturbing the pj'ramidal shape and lofty air of the mass of foliage. The roots — tortuous and bare — are visible along the surface of the ground, which they seem to enfold like the claws of vultures crushing their prey, or serpents half buried in the earth. Their sombre and massive verdure does not become discoloured beneath the buming sun of the tropics, but retains its full depth of hue, which seeins almost black, as it stands relieved against the intense azm-e of the sky. There is no tree more majestic. It is in admirable har mony with the Italian architecture of the villas which here surround it, and strikingly contrasts its lofty and THE CEMETERY OF SCUTARI. 161 dark cones with the slender white columns of the neigh bouring minarets. Beside every torab a cypress is planted : every ti-ee which stands erect in the burinl-ground represents a dend man recumbent at its foot ; and, inasmuch ns this soil, enriched by human remains, fosters a singularly-rapid vegetation ; and, as every day adds to the number of graves and of cypresses, the sepulchral forest grows, spreads, and rises, -with a rapidity almost miraculous. The Turks have no idea of those temporaiy grants of land, by which civilised communities concede to the dead a few years' lease of their graves, to reclaim the space when their mouldering remains shaU have lost all indi viduaUty and commingled with the parent earth. Fu nereal economy is not so well understood by these wor thy barbarians, as by more refined nations ; and every dead man, poor or rich, once extended upon his final couch, may sleep there undisturbed, until the last trumpet arouses him from his slumber ; or, at least, the hand of man -wiU not disturb his repose. Near the City of the Living, this City of the Dead extends indefinitely, gradually peopling itself with resi dents of most quiet habits, and who never emigrate. The inexhaustible quarries of Marmora furnish to each of these silent citizens a tablet of marble, which tells his name and .abode ; and although a coffin occupies but little space, and the ranks are closely serried, the City of the Dead covers a larger space than the other. MiUions have there lain down, for ever, from the time of the original conquest of Byzantium, by Mahomet IL, and each retains his plaee ; while the living occupants of the neighbouring town remain there but for a time, and then come to sweU the countless numbers of these denizens of the city of sepulchres. 162 CONSTANTINOPLE. If time, which destroys eveiything, does not overthrow and annihilate these monuments, and decapitate them, and if the dust of ages does not bmy the remains of the broken tombs, this system of never intruding upon a grave once appropriated, would enable a patient statistician, by counting these funeral columns, to obtain an approxima tion to the number of the population of Constantinople in the j'car 1453, — the time of the faU of the Grecian Empire. Without the intervention of that invariable process of Nature, which tends to restore all natural things to their primitive state, the Turkish Empire, in pm-suance of the present usage, would soon become nothing but one vast cemetery, from which the dead would expel the living. Entering the cemeteiy, I pursued the main avenue, bordered on either side by lofty and overshadowing screens of the ever-recm-ring cypress. Stone-cutters, seated quietly by the way-side, are carving inscriptions upon tombs ; arabas fiUed with females, pass on their way towards Hyder-Pasha ; and women of disreputable character lounge about, distinguished by having their eyebrows united with a line of Indian-ink, and wearing transparent yachmacks, through which their faces are risible. I presently quitted the beaten track, and, learing my companions, directed my steps at random among the tombs, to study more closely the oriental accompaniments of death. I have already said, in speaking of the Little Field of Pera, that the Tm-kish monmnents are generally composed of pillars of marble, terminating in a kind of globe, bearing a vague resemblance to a human face and de corated with a carved turban, the form and folds of which indicate the rank of the deceased. But now, the tm-ban is superseded by a coloured fez ; the graves of the women THE CEMETERY OF SCUTARI. 163 retaining, however, their distinctive mark as before, in the form of a stem of lotus, or a shoot of grape--rine, witli leaves or grapes carved and painted in relief. At foot of the column, which is almost always of precisely the same form, and varied only by the degree of richness of the gilding and colouring, there is usually a flat stone, hollowed in the middle to form a smaU basin, some few inches in depth, in which the friends of the deceased place flowers, and pour milk or perfumes. A day comes, however, when the flowers fade, and are not renewed ; for grief for the departed is not etemai, and Ufe were intolerable without forgetfulness. Water from the clouds replaces the rose-water, and the birds of the air come to drink the tears of the heavens, from the reservoir which once received the tears of affection. The doves dip their wings in these baths of marble, drying themselves in the sun while they coo from the summit of the superincumbent monument; and the dead, deceived, - might suppose that he heard a sigh of faithful sorrow. Nothing could be prettier or more graceful, than this ¦winged Ufe, hovering and singing among the tombs. Occasionally a Tttrbi, or species of chapel, with its Moorish arcades, rises amid the humbler tombs and serves as a sepulchral kiosk, to some Pasha sui-rounded byhis famUy. The Turks, who are grave, deUberate, and majestic in every action of Ufe, hurry themselves only in the presence of death. The corpse, so soon as it has been subjected to the customary ablutions, is despatched to the cemetery at racing speed, placed upon its side so as to face Mecca and the East, and promptly covered with a few handfuls of earth. This extremity of haste, is adopted in accord ance with a Mussidman superstition ; the beUef being, that the corpse suffers, until it is committed to the earth from which it sprung. 1 64 CONSTANTINOPLE. The Iman questions the deceased upon his faith in the leading doctrines of the Koran, his silence being taken for acquiescence; the assistants respond Amin, andthe friends disperse, leaving the dead alone with etemity. After this, it is believed that Monkir and Nekir — the two funereal angels, whose eyes of turquoise shine in faces of ebony — question the departed spirit as to the tenor of his life ; and, according to his answers, assign the place which his soul is to occupy in HeU or Paradise. The Mahometan hell, however, is only a purg.atoiy ; for after having expiated their sins, by torments more or less severe and protracted, all true believers finish by being received to the embrace of houris and the ineffable presence of Allah. At the head of each grave, is left a sort of hole or channel, conducting towards the ear of the deceased, that he may be enabled to hear the sighs, prayers, and lamen tations of his family or friends. This opening — too often, alas ! enlarged by the dogs or jackals — seems intended as a sort of vent for the sepulclire : a kind of peep-hole, through which this world can look into the other. In wandering, with no fixed destination, I arrived at a part of the cemetery more ancient than the rest, and consequently more neglected. The sepulchral columns, nearly aU out of perpendicular, leaned in every direction. Many were recumbent, as if tired of standing so long and thinking it useless to continue to designate graves which nobody now thought of risiting. The earth, sunken by the decay of the coffins, or the action of the rain, preserved but carelessly the secrets of the tomb. At nearly every step, my foot struck against some fragment of a jaw, a rib, or a thigh-bone ; and amid an occasional patch of short turf, I could sometimes see shining spherical objects white and poUshed like ivory. These were skulls, basking TUE CEMETERY OF SCUTARI. 165 in the sun. In a few of the open graves, pious hands had replaced the bones with some degree of order ; from others, the fragments of skeletons roUed Uke pebbles about the deserted pathways. I was seized with a strange and horrible curiosity to peer into some of those openings in the graves, of which I have before spoken ; to penetrate the mysterious dark ness of the tomb, and behold the dead, mouldering within its Umits. I stooped and gazed into some of these windows of the sepulchre ; and I could see, plainly, the dust of humanity in its undress. I saw the cranium— j'cUow, Urid, grinning — with dislocated jaws, and empty sightless sockets; the bony cage of the chest, half buried in sand or black mould, over which fell carelessly the skeleton arm. The rest was lost in shadow or in earth. These sleepers seemed tranquil enough ; and, far from horrifying me, as I expected, the spectacle rather re assured me. There was, in reaUty, nothing there but phosphate of Ume ; and the soul once departed, nature was resuming her elements, Uttle by little, to form new combinations. If, in former times, I had dreamed the Comedie de la Mort in the cemetery of Pere-Lachaise, I certainly could not have written a single verse in the cemetery of Scutari. Under thc tranquil shade of these cypresses, a human skull seems to impress me no more than a stoue ; and the soothing fatalism of the East appears to creep over me, despite my Christianised terror of deatb, and my CathoUc experience of the sepulchre. None of those dead have responded when questioned. Everywhere silence, calm forgetfulness, and dreamless sleep in the bosom of Natme, the holy mother. I had placed my ear to many of the half-open graves ; but I heard no sound, unless it were the worm gnawing 166 CONSTANTINOPLE. among the cerements. None of these sleepers, lying upon their sides, had tumed themselves, as if ill at ease ; and I continued my walk, striding over the tombs, and treading upon the relics of humanity, calm, serene, nay, alraost smiUng ; and thinking, with but Uttle repugnance, of the day when the foot of the passing stranger should thus sturable over my head, — hoUow and sonorous, Uke an empty bowl. The raj's of sunlight glanced through the dark pyra mids of the cypresses, and played Uke wild-fires upon the white marble of the tombs. The doves cooed cheerfuUy, and the swallows made their joyous circuits in the deep blue of the heavens. Some women, seated each in the centi-e of a smaU carpet, and accompanied by a negress or a child, seemed lost in melancholy reverie ; or reposing, lulled by some rision of tender remembrance. The air was soft and ¦ sweet ; and I never felt a stronger sense of Ufe, than amid this sombre forest, whose soil was composed of the dust of the dead. I had now rejoined my friends, and we visited a completely modem part of the cemetery. I there saw recent tombs, sm-rounded by raiUngs and Uttle gardens, in imitation of those of Pere-Lachaise. Death, it would appear, has its " fashions " as well as Life ; and in this region there were none but fashionables of the newest mode, interred in the latest style. For my part, I pre ferred the column of marble, with the sculptm-ed turban, and the verse of the Koran in letters of gold. The road issuing from the cemetery leads to a large plam, called " Hyder-Pasha;" a sort of parade-ground, which lies between Scutari and the extensive barracks of Kadi-Kieui. A waU, constructed of old and broken tomb stones, extends on either side of the road, and foi-ms a sort THE CEMETERY OF SCUTARI. 167 of raised terrace of about three feet in height, affording the most admirable view of the scene around ; which looks like an immense field of animated flowers. Two or thrcc lines of women, seated upon mats or carpets, form striking contrasts, with the varied colom-s of their feredjes, elegantly draped about them, and reUeved by thc pure white of the j'achmack. In front of them, the red jackets, straw-coloured trousers, and braided waist coats of the children, form a medley of rays of bright colours and golden embroidery. At his first arrival in the East, the feredje and the yachmack have, upon the traveller, the effect of the domino in a masquerade, where he distinguishes nothing, and feels in a maimer dazzled by the eternal succession of formless shadows, which pass before his eyes, to aU ap pearance cach exactly like thc other. Soon, however, although you recognise no one, the eye becomes habituated to this imiformity ; and you begin to discover differences, and appreciate forms beneath the satin which conceals them. Some Ul-disguised grace betrays the youth of one, while the more advanced age of another is indicated by some opposite pecuUaritj'. A breeze — propitious or unfortunate — lifts sometimes, for an instant, the lappet of lace ; the face is seen despite the ma.sk, and the black phantom becomes a woman. It is so in the East. The ainple drapery of merino, which re sembles a dressing-robe, or a bathing-go-wn, soon loses its mystery. The yachmack betrays an occasional unexpected transparency, and, despite all the wrappers with which Mussulman jealousy enfolds her, a Tm-kish woman, if not gazed at too openly, becomes in reaUty as "visible " as a JEuropean one. The feredje, which professes to conceal the figure, can also display it. Its ample folds, skilfuUy arranged, show 168 CONSTANTINOPLE. plainly the outline which they should disguise ; and in half opening it, under pretext of re-adjustment, the Turk ish coquette — for there are such — shows sometimes, at the parting ofher embroidered velvet jacket, a superb throat, scarcely clouded by a cheraisette of gauze, and a bust like marble, which owes nothing to the artifice of the corset; while those who have pretty hands, well know how to display their henna-tipped and tapering fingers, outside of the mantle which enwraps their owner. There are modes of rendering the yachmack opaque or trans parent, by the mamier of arranging its folds ; and it is easy to raise it more or less high upon the face, and to increase or diminish the space between it and the head- di-ess. Between these two Unes of white, sparkle, Uke black diamonds or stars of jet, those most magnificent of all eyes in the world, whose briUiancy is even heightened by the tint of k'hol upon the Uds, and which seem to con centrate in themselves the whole expression of that face, of which aU the rest is concealed. In walking slowly down the middle of the road, I was able to pass in review, at leism-e, this whole gaUery of Tm-kish beauties, as if I were inspecting a range of boxes at the Opera. My red fez and close-buttoned frock-coat, my long beard and embrowned complexion, rendered me scarcely distinguishable from the rest of the crowd, and prevented me from having an aii- too scandalously Pai-i- siau. Upon the " turf " of Hyder-Pasha, many arabas moved gravely along, as well as mauy talikas, and not a few broughams and clareuces ; all filled with richly- di-essed women, whose diamonds sparkled in the sun, partly hidden by the masses of white muslin, like stars behind a Ught cloud. Cawas ou foot or on horseback, attended many of these carriages, indicating that in those thus TIIE CEMETERY OF SCUTARI. 169 attended, odaUsques of the imperial harera were lazUy seeking to dispel their ennui by a drive. Here and there, Uttle groups of five or six women lounged beneath the shade of a tree, guarded by a black eunuch, and within caU of the araba which had convej-ed them thither. The sellers of snow-water, sherbet, grapes, and cherries, passed from group to group, offering their merchandise to the Greeks and Armenians, and con tributing to the animation of the scene. CavaUers, mounted upon fine horses, displayed their skill at some little distance fr-om the carriages — doubtless in honour of some inrisible beauty ; the matchless steeds of Nedji, of Hedjaz, and of Kurdistan, proudly shaking their sUlcy manes, and making the jeweUed housings to sparkle and flash in the simlight, — seemingly as conscious as their masters, of the adrairation they excited. Occa sionaUy, when a cavalier's back was turned, a fair head would be seen for an instant at the window of a talika, but would be as instantly withdra-wn. The sun sank, and I regained, in a strange, dreamy mood, the road to Scutari ; where my caidji patiently awaited me, seated between a cup of coffee and a chi bouque of latakia ; as, indeed, he had every right to do, being a Christian Greek, and not subject to the rigor ous restrictions of the Ramadan, which stdl reigned supreme throughout the territory of Islam. 170 CONSTANTIKOPLE. XIV. KARAGHEUZ. I BEGIN to fear, in speaking thus perpetuaUy of ceme teries, that I shall be mistaken for a travelUng undertaker ; but it is not my fault ; and to-day, at least, I have nothmg lugubrious in view. I wish to take you to see " Karagheuz" the Tm-kish Punch; and to reach his abode, we must traverse the Great Field of the Dead of Pera : but what to do there? you wiU say ; for, after all, this is no melancholj' personage whom we are about to visit. After passing through nearly the whole length of the chief street of Pera, you reach a foimtain, shaded by a cluster of plane-trees, near which are stationed men with horses to let, who assail you with cries of " Tchelehi, — Signor .'" — or " Monsieur .'" according as they are more or less polyglots. Around are also numerous arabas, waiting for employment ; aud the eternal sellers of sherbet, iced- water, cucumbers, and cakes, always seeming to diive a brisk trade. Groups of women, seated at the wayside, fix boldly upon the passers-by their largo bhick eyes, and amuse themselvss by watching the crowd of people of all nations, who corae and go on foot, on horseback, on mules, on asses, aud in carriages of aU shapes aud from all regions. The slgual-gun, which amiu ances the setting of the KARAGIIELZ. 171 sun and the suspension of the fast, has just resomided through the towu. The cafes begin to flll, and clouds of tobacco sraoke to rise in every dii-ection. Tarboukas are heard to rumble, tambom-ines to rattle, and flutes to shriek ; w hUe the nasal tones of the street singers augment the joyous claniom-. Upon the esplanade in front of the cavalry barrack, the fashionables begin to display their horsemanship ; and the black eunuchs to prance about, upon superb steeds. They chaUenge each other to the race, with shriU cries, and gallop madly forward, regardless of the j'cUow and red dogs who Ue sleeping in their pathway with an imperturbable fataUsm. In another quarter, children are playing at " cat," perched upon the flat tombs of Armenians or Greek CSuistians ; which are deprived of aU religious erableras, as if Mussulman earth barely tolerated the dead of a different creed. These philosophical gamins appeared, however, to trouble themselves very Uttle about the fact that they were thronging a spot satm-ated with human dust ; aud displayed a vivacity of Ufe aud gaiety, which such a locality would have partially subdued, in anj- other country than Turkey. The Little Field of Pera is a sort of Boulevard des ItaUens ; and (to sustain the paraUel) the Great Field is the Bois de Boulogne of Paris, or thc Ilj-de Park of London, — a place in which the Turkish beaux display their barbs, or EngUsh horses, and in which are paraded some few barouches, chariots, and broughams, imported from Paris, Vieima, or London. They might be more numerous, if the execrable pavements a;nd narrow streets would permit ; but, even as it is, they add greatly to the animation of the scene, and form striking • contrasts with the clumsy forms, gaudy colours, and brilUant gilding of L 2 172 CONSTANTINOPLE. the arabas — although the latter are much preferable in a pictorial point of view : one more iUustration of the truism, that the pictm-esque is almost invariably attained by a sacrifice of the useful, the comfortable, or the practical. Perhaps the dead, who sleep beneath the surrounding cjqjresses, prefer this bustle to the deep silence, the heavy solitude, aud the cold abandonment, which isolate them elsewhere. Here they rest, amid their contemporaries, their friends, and their descendants, and are not removed from the common haunts of men as objects of disgust or horror. This familiarity, which may at first seem irrever ent, is, after all, more tender and considerate than our superstitious reserve. While waiting for the hour at whieh the representation of Karagheuz should commence, I smoked a chibouque and took a cup of coffee in a neighboui-ing cafe. This preliminary completed, I and my Constantinoplean friend traversed the cemetery, and reached a line of low wooden houses, which stood beneath a row of lofty cypresses, and formed one side of a street, of which the other side con sisted of tombs. At the door of one of these houses stood a lamp, formed by depositing a floating vrick in a glass of oil — a mode of illumination much in use in Constantinople — and the house thus distinguished proved to be the scene cf the evening's entertainment. We entered, after throw ing a few piastres to an old Turk, who was seated near the door, beside a chest which represented at once the cash-box and thc box-office. The representation took place in a garden jilanted with trees. Low stools for the natives, and chau-s of wicker-work for the giaours, supplied the place of boxes und stalls. The audience was numerous, and the smoke K.ARAGHEUZ. 173 from their chibouques and narghiles formed a cloudy canopy above their heads ; while the lighted pipc-bowls gleamed in the shade, as if the whole surface of the garden were sprinkled with Uve coals. The blue sky of evening, spangled with stars, formed the ceUing of our theatre, and the moon played the part of chandelier ; while boys ran nimbly about serring cups of coffee and glasses of water, — accompaniment-obligato to every Turkish entertainraent. Seats were provided for us in the front row, close to the stage, and beside sorae young rogues in tarbouches, whose long siUc tassels hung half-way down their backs, like Chinese queues, and who were already laughing merrily in anticipation of the piece. The theatre of " Karagheuz" is of a simplicity even more primitive than that of " Punch." An angle of a wall, across which is extended a curtain of white linen, Ughted from behind, is aU the fitting- up which is required ; a single lamp suppUes the needful light, and a tambourine constitutes the orchestra. Nothing could be less compU cated. The manager takes his stand in the area forined by the angle of the waU and the extended cm-tain, and amid the figures whose movements and language he directs. The luminous ground upon which are to be projected the shadows [silhouettes) of the miniature actors, shines brightly in the growing darkness, and is the centre of many impatient regards. Presently a figure is uiterjiosed between the Ught and the curtain, and a coloured and semi-transparent shadow is thrown upon the shining surface. It is a Chinese pheasant perched upon a bush. The tambourine begins to rumble and growl, and a gut tural voice chanting a strange poem, in a measure incom prehensible to European ears, rises upon the sUence ; for at the ajipearance of the bird, the vague buzz of conver- 174 CONSTANTINOPLE. sation had censed abruptly. This wns the lifting of the curtain, and the overture. The pheasant vanished, and gave place to a sort of scene, representing the exterior of a garden, enclosed by lattices and railings, above which appeared trees, very .similar in form to those carved wooden ones which we find in boxes of German toj'S. A hoarse shout of laughter now announced the entrance of Karagheuz, and a grotesque figure of some six or eight inches in height perched himself on the garden wall -with a profusion of extravagant gestures. Karagheuz is a very striking personage. His face, although seen only in silhouette, forms a very faithful caricature of the genuine Turk. His parrot-beaked nose curves over a black beard and projecting chin, and his phj'siognoniy presents a mixture of stiipiditj', voluptuous ness and cuiming ; as if he were at once Prud'homme, Don Juan, and Robert Macaire. His head is covered by a turban of the most authentic " old style," which, however, he removes every moment as species of comic action, which is as invariably effective as the " root-too-too" of Punch. A jacket, a waistcoat of gaudy colours, and large trousers, complete his costume. His arms and legs are moveable. He differs from the mere black forms of the " ombres chinois," in being transparent and displaying various colours, like the figures of a magic lantern; and this description of the hero of the piece -wiU serve to give an idea of all the other actors. Like all approved princes of tragedy, Karagheuz has a confidant, nanied TIadji-aivat ; an auxiliary who answers hira impudently, and mocks hira behind his back M-hile waiting upon him ; but, nevertheless, Karagheuz can no more be imagined without Iladji-aivat, than Orestes KARAGHEUZ. 175 without Pylades, Damon -vrithout Pj'thias, or Castor without Pollux ; and their grotesque nnd qujirrelsome duality pervades tho entire piece. Iladji-.aivat hns a form ns slcndiM- ns thnt of a sylph, nnd forms a strong contrast, with his grncc and agUity, to the ponderous and deliberate dignity of his chief. The garden, outside of which the scene of the piece is laid, encloses a mysterious beauty, — a sort of houri, who has strangely fascinated the imagination and senses of Karagheu?:. He is desirous to penetrate into this paradise, which is defended by ferocious guardians ; and to effect that object, invents all sorts of stratagems, in which he is successively foiled. Now it i^i a eunuch who menaces him with his sabre ; presentlj- a ferocious dog, who barks outrageously, and fixes a fearfully sharp set of teeth in his calves; — while Hadja-a'ivat, no less enamom-ed than his master, is constantly trying to substitute himself for Karagheuz, and to take the place in the lady's favour which his master seeks to obtain. He complicates the " situation" by all conceivable rascalities and treacheries, which cause continual altercations and contests between him and Karagheuz, and give perp'etual action to the piece. A third personage is introduced, at an early period, into the drama. It is a j'oung man, in blue frock-coat and fez, like the attach^ of an Ottoman embassy, — a young man of family. He holds in his hand a pot of basil — sjTnbol of love, sincere and permanent ; and Karagheuz benevolently counsels him how he may best prosecute his suit and obtain access to the object of his devotion, — in so doing making a mere tool of the poor youth, obtaining money from him, and finaUy seeking to obtain entrance to the garden of paradise in the train of the young effendi. Certain Persians, attracted by the renown of the lady's beauty, comc alao to cool tJicir heels at the garden gate ; 176 CONSTANTINOPLE, arriring, mounted on spotted horses of a most ludicrous appearance. High Astracan caps of lambs'-wool surmount their heads, and they bear in their hands the invariable battle-axe of their nation. Karagheuz endeavours to make friends of these strangers; and "humbugs" them ¦with a succession of lies, each more preposterous than the last, but all quite in keeping -with the stupidity which the Tm-ks habitually attribute to the Persians. Hadji- aivat has also sought to avail himself of the Persian in fluence ; and being detected, receives a most miraculous shower of cuffs and kicks fr-om his master. Meantime, the yomig lover is admitted to the harem, and the door slammed in the faces of the Persians ; who revenge their discomfiture by pouncing unanimously upon Karagheuz and Hadji-a'ivat, thus creating a general fight, to the intense gratification of the audience, who reward the per formance with shouts of laughter and applause. Necessarily, my description is limited almost exclusively to the pantomimic portion of this " drama," my know ledge of Turkish being quite inadequate to the foUo-wing of such a perforraance ; but, as conveying an idea of the stage to whieh dramatic art and taste (?) have arrived in Tm-key, the description is not -without its value. It -wUl be observed, that in this, as in their poetry and Uterature, their tastes are singularly primitive, and their apprecia tion limited to that species of nan-ative and incident which forms the delight of savages and of children. The Turkish language offers pecuUai- facilities for puns, and every description of play upon words ; the alteration of a single letter, or even a single accent, bcing suffi cient to change entfrely the sense of a word. Thus, Asem signifies Persian, and asemi, an idiot ; and instead of saying Asem-Baba, (or Mr. Persian), Karagheuz never failed to say, Asemi-Baba, or, " you fool of a Persian ;" KARAGHEUZ. 177 which of course called forth peals of laughter — the Per sians filUng, for the Turks, the place which Frenchmen do in English farce, or Englishmen in the French comedies. In fact, these poor Pcrsinns nrc the butt of nil thc jokes and all thc mj'stificntions of the Turkish story-tellers. Theil- stj'le is parodied, their emphatic enunciation, stiff depoi-tment, strange costume, and the superabundance of arms which they carry about them, are all made subjects of satire. It is very likely, that among the Persians the Turks are quizzed in return, by way of just compen sation. My polj'glot friend translated for me, from tirae to time, the more striking passages of this piece ; but it is quite impossible to convey any idea of its droUery by translation, and deprived of action. It ought, however, to be mentioned, that, among other consequences of " the reform," the performances of Ka ragheuz have been submitted to "the censorship;" and that much which was rather extreme in action, has, been reduced to words, and the words themselves veiy freely excised ; for, in truth, in its original form, the represen tation could hardly have been described to European readers ; although, as performed before an audience, consisting entirely of men, and those men Tm-ks, it used to be considered quite proper, and in no way censurable. , After the piece which I have thus imperfectly de scribed, followed another, purely pantomimic, entitled, " The Nuptials of Karagheuz ; " but until that has been also submitted to the censorship — which it seems, at least partially, to have escaped — I must defer a description of its details. I may remark, however, that it was rendered curious by the display of animals, and of fumiture and house utensUs of every kind, in the nuptial procession ; 178 CONSTANTINOPLE. and bv the crudo and outre character, which all these pic tures derive from the restrictions laid upon the plastic and pictorial arts by the prohibitions of the Koran. The result is, that aU the pictorial and sculptorial representa tions in which Karagheuz indulges (he being the only Turk " licensed" to do anything of the kind) are as pri mitive, and as unlike nature, as those which we find in the sculptures of a thousand ycars ago, or the grotesque limniuKS which we see of the religious ceremonies of the Aztecs and central Americans. I resumed my way towards Pera — at the terraination of the performance — through a deserted part of the ceme terj', and between two enormous rows of cjqiresses. The moou threw occasional streams of silver through the openings of the branches, and made the white and tur baned tombs look even more spectral than usual. A profound silence reigned throughout this funeral forest, broken only, occasionally, bythe deep baj'ing of some dog in the distance. I was more impressed, than ever before, with an appreciation of the fmiereal character and asso ciations of tlie scene; and amid the breathless stillness, T could almost hear the beating of my heart — the only liring thing amid this multitude of the dead — when, on a sudden, a deep and stem voice broke upon my startled ear, pronouncing, in French, the following phrase : — " Pray, Monsieur, buy the last of my cakes ! " This inopportune offer of pastry, araid the depths of a cemetery, at midnight — that romantic hour, the hour of apparitions — had something about it at once grotesque and startling ; while it, at the same time, alarmed and amused me. Could it be the ghost of some fcUow-Parisiaii, who had died at Constantinople in pursuit of the noble art of confectionery, and who now rose to offer me the ghost of a tart or a cheese-cake ? This seemed hardly probable : KARIIAGEUZ. 179 and .'io. taking " heart of custard," I marched towards tlic placc whence the voice had issued. A fat, most substantial, and ungliostUke looking fcUow became visible, carrjing bcforc hira a large tray filled with pastry, and .awaiting customers in this seemingly lui- suitable locality. He spoke French (as it appeared) in consequence of haring served for some j-ears as il Turco in Algicri ; but, disgusted with the profession of arms, had taken up the more peaceful vocation of this nocturnal ti-affic in tarts. I purchased the very foundations of his estabUshment for about three-halfpence, — reserving the fruits of my purchase as a means of making peace with the belated dogs, whom I niight encounter on my way home ; and proceeded on mj' course. The next day, in pursuance of my researches into Turkish dramatic Uterature, my friend proposed to me to descend to Top-Hane ; where, in the back-gnrden of a cafe, we might sce a performance of Karagheuz, which had not been subjected to " the censorship ;" and which exhibited, therefore, all the freedom of its original con ception. The garden was fuU of people when we arrived. Children and little girls were there in particular abun dance ; and their appreciation and enjoyment of a perform ance much too gross for description, was by no means the least singular part of the exhibition. Karagheuz is often sent for to perform in the harems ; the females -witnessing the exhibition from curtained and latticed "boxes" or enclosures; which is singularly at variance with the severity of restriction imposed upon the females throughout the Orient, and would seem to indi cate — as has been so often alleged — that in their dis behef of the immortality of woman, and their degradation 180 CONSTANTINOPLE. of her to a position purely animal, the Tm-ks carc to secm-e only the persons of their females, and pay no regard whatever to the cultivation or degradation of their moral faculties. After -witnessing these performances, I sought to trace the origin of Karagheuz, to some " root " identical vrith that of Punch, or Pickel-h'ering , or Polichinello ; but all my erudite researches were rendered useless, by the information, that Karagheuz is the caricature of a vizier of Saladin, notorious alike for his drolleries and his licentiousness ; and as this explanation makes its hero a contemporary of the Crusaders, I did not think it worth while to press my inquiries farther, — this Beeming to me an antiquity remote and venerable enough to satisfy the most exacting. iwwip_M*ia5(iaiiiii«.-i^ii.^ ,. .-.V. Nnw KIOSK or sui.tan atidul-medjid. THE SULTAN AT THE MOSQUE. 181 XV. THE SULTAN AT TIIE MOSQUE. A TURKISH DINNER. It is the custom for the Sultan to go in state, every Friday, to one of the mosques, to perform his devotions in pubUc. Friday, as every one knows, is to the Turks what Sunday ' is to the Christians, and Saturday to the Jews : a day specially consecrated to reUgious exercises ; although it does not, with thc Turks, involve a compulsory period of rest. Every week, the Commander of the Faithful visits a different mosque. Saint-Sophia, the Suleimanieh, Sul tan- Bajazet, YenirDjami, andthe rest, being visited inro- tetion, according to a sequence arranged and known in advance. Beside the fact, that to perform his devotions on the Friday in a mosque, is rigorously inculcated upon the Turk by the Koran ; and that the Padischa, as the head of the religion, can least of all men omit that duty ; there is, moreover, in the exercise of this official act of pieiy, a political utiUty aud significance ; because it proves, to the mass of the people, the continuance of the Ufe of the Sulten, of which they have few other opportunities of assuring themselves ; hidden as he is, during the entire week, in the mysterious soUtudes of the seragUo, or of the secluded summer pnlnccs on tho shores of the Ros- phonis. 182 CONSTANTINOPLE. By passing through the city on horseback, visible to eveiy one, he gives evidence of his existence, both to his own people and to the representatives of foreign powers ; a precaution not altogether idle in a country like Turkej', where his sudden or violeut death miyJit not only occur, but niight — but for this recurring appearance in publie — be for some time concealed, for the purposes of political intrigue. Sickness, even though severe, docs not prevent the peifoi-mance of this ceremony; for ilahmoud I., son of Mustapha, actually died between the two gates of the seragUo, while retui-ning fi-om one of these Fridaj's cere monials, to, which he had been Uterally dragged, while with difficulty able to maintain his seat in the saddle, and' rouged to conceal his death-like paleness. The dragomans of the different hotels alwaj's kuow, on the previous evening, or early on the same morning, the mosque which the Sultan will visit during the daj' ; and I learned from the dragoman of the Hotel de Byzance, that on this particular day the Sultan would go from the palace of Schiragan to the mosque of Medjidieh (situated close at hand) to perform his devotions. As the distance is considerable fi-om Dervish-Sohak to Schiragan, and the Turkish time exceedingly difficult for strangers to comprehend, it chanced that, when I arrived at the Medjidieh, bathed in perspu-atiou, aud partiaUy cooked by the torrid sun of July, the royal procession had passed, and the Sultan was ah-cadj- reciting his prajers in the interior of the mosque. Still, there remained the resource of waiting until ho had finished, and seeing hini issue fr-om the mosque ou his retmn to thc palace ; v,\iitA\ would amount to exactly the same thing, as if I had seen him at first, with the addition of an intermediate hour passed outside the mosque, in thc company of a nuiiibei- of TIIE SULTAN AT THE MOSQl E. 1S3 English, Americans, Germans, and Russians, waiting with the same object. Thc McdjicUeh, as above remarked, is contiguous to the palace of Schiragan, tho front of whieh faces the Bos phorus, aud which, on the other side, shows nothing but high waUs surmounted by the chinmeys of the kitchens, painted green, aud disguised in the fonn of columns. It is quite modern, and its architectme is in no way remark able ; although, by its dazzling whiteness, it has a fine effect, in contrast with the deep blue of the Oriental sky. The door of the mosque was open, and a glirapse could be obtained of the viziers, the pashas, and the other great officers of state, wearing tarbouches, their breasts blazing with gold embroidery, and broadened by large epaulettes ; aU executing, in spite of their obesity, the compUcated pantomime of Oriental devotion. They knelt and rose ponderously, by turns, with a piety which seemed sincere ; and it must be added, that philosophical or sceptical ideas have made far less progress at Constantinople than would be expected ; and this, too, even among those Turks who have been educated in Europe,' and who, on their retm-n home, seem to recover their attachraent to the Koran. In fact, it is necessary to scrape but very slightly the vamish with which civilisation has overlaid them, to fiud underneath the faithful believer and Mussulman. In front of the mosque, numerous grooms aud black slaves were leading up aud down magnificently caparisoned horses, which had brought thither the Sultan and his suite. 'The author habitually uses lic word " European" in contra distinction to "Turkish" or "Mahometan;" and, although not always strictly correct, when speaking of events which occur in "Turkey in Europe," it is so generally received in common parlance, that I have followed the author's example, in this particular, through out the book. — Trans. 184 CONSTANTINOPLE. They were fine animals, robust, solid, lacking something of the nervous elegance of the Arabian horses, but seem ingly capable of bearing great fatigue. The slight horses of the desert would sink beneath the weight of these massive riders ; for the most part of excessive stoutness, especially among the higher grades. These horses are of the "bai-b" species, but seem to form a class by them selves. The steed of the Sultan was easily distinguishable by the precious stones which blazed upon his housings, and the recurrence of the imperial cypher, the coraplicated arabesque of which, embroidered in gold, sufficed almost entirely to hide the velvet of the trappings. Lines of soldiers were ranged along the walls, awaiting the appearance of his Highness. They wore the red tarbouch, and their uniform somewhat resembled the undress of the French troops of the line, consisting of a round jacket of blue cloth, and large trousers of coarse white linen. This costume, which is almost that of a French peasant lad, formed a strange contrast to the stern faces, heavy beards, and bronzed complexions of the wearers, to whora the massive turban of the janissaries would have been much more suitable. Upon the steps of the mosque was extended a narrow strip of blaek cachemere, for the passage of the Sultan. It led from the door, following the steps of the portico, to a mounting-block of marble, such as are found also near the doors of the palaces, and the landing-places for the caiques. It appears to me (although I cannot assert it positively) that this black carpet is affected by the Sultan, in assertion of his right as Graud Kliau of Tartary, of which dignity that colour is the sign. The genuflexious, prostrations, and psalmodies continued in the interior of the sanctuary, while the mid-day sun, constantly foreshortening the shadow, made the flagstones THE SULTAN AT TIIE MOSQUE, 185 and gravel of the street fairly to blaze with heat and light, which were again reflected with blinding fervour from the white walls around. This was all the more distressing to three or four European ladies who were there, because etiquette forbids the opening of a parasol in presence of the Sultan, or even in front of the palace which he inhabits. In the East, the parasol has always been the emblem of suprerae powcr. The master is in the shade, while the slaves broil in the sun. 'The Turkish rigour is relaxed on this point, as on all others ; and one would not run, at present, in disregarding this usage, the risks which would formerly have attended it ; but all foreigners of good breeding conforra, nevertheless, to its requirements. WTiy should we clash with the habits or customs of the countries which we visit, — habits which have their reasons for existing, and often are, at bottom, no more ridiculous than our ovm ? At last, a movement is perceptible within the mosque. The officers resume their shoes, or slippers, at the entrance. The grooras lead the Sultan's horse to the mounting-stone ; and, presently — between two lines of viziers, pashas, and beys, bending and saluting in the Oriental fashion — ap pears his Highness the Sultan, Abdul-Medjid ; his figure clearly defined against the sombre tints of the door-way, the outline of which surrounded him like a frame. His costume — exceedingly simple — consisted of a sort of surtout or paletot, of deep blue ; white trousers ; patent- leather boots ; and a fez, in which the imperial aigrette of heron's feathers was fastened by a button of enormous diamonds ; while, through tho opening of his paletot, a glimpse was obtained of an under-coat, richly embroidered in gold. For my part, I regret sincerely the loss of the ancient Asiatic magnificence. I admired the unapproachable 186 CONSTANTINOPLE. Sultans ; — installed, like idols, in shrines of precious stones, — a kind of peacocks of power, displaying them selves amid a galaxy of stars. In a country governed by despotic power, the sovereign cannot too far separate himself from common humanity, by solemn and imposing forms ; by a luxury, dazzling, chimerical, and almost fabulous. He sliould be seen by his people, only through an atmosphere blazing with gold and diamonds. Meantime, despite the austere simplicity of his dress, the rank of Abdul-Medjid could have been mistaken by no one. A supreme satiety could be read in his pale countenance : the consciousness of supreme power gave to his features — otherwise not strikingly regular — a tranquillity like that of marble. His eyes, fixed and unvarying in expression, — at once dull and piercing, — seeing everything and looking at nothing, — did not seem to reserable the eyes of a human being ; while a short beard, thick and brown, enclosed this mask, — sad, imperious, and yet soft. In a few steps, taken with extreme slowness, rather as if gliding than walking, — the steps of a god or a phantom, moving by other than the usual huraan process, — Abdul- Medjid crossed the spaee which separated the door of the mosque from the mounting-block of marble ; following the strip of black upon which no one save himself presumed to tread ; and seemed rather to sink than to mount, to the saddle of the horse which stood awaiting hira, immove able as a sculptured steed. The great (and large) officers raised theraselves, soraewhat more laboriously, on to the backs of their respective animals, and the procession began to move towards the palace, amid loud eries of " Loug live the Sultan !" shouted in Turkish by the sol diers, with genuine and unmistakeable enthusiasm. By quickening my pace a little, I was enabled to pass before the cortege, and place myself somewhat in advance. TIIE SULTAN AT THE MOSQUE. 187 in a position to g.ain another view '• his Highness. I gave my mm to a young Itnlian lady, wno had begged me to escort her, and who peered eagerly through the line of guards to observe the features of the Sultan ; for a man who has sixteen hundred wives, is a phenoraenon that interests in the highest degree the curiosity of all women. The Sultan — whose horse advanced slowly, gracefully .arching his superb neck, like that of a swan, and as if jiroud o£ the burden he bore — the Sultan observed the stranger, and fi.xed upon her for some seconds his eagle eyes, at the same tirae turning alraost iraperceptibly towards her his impassive countenance ; this being the manner in which the Sultan salutes those whom he chooses to honour ; a distinction, however, bestowed very rarely indeed. During this procession, the band played a march, arranged from Turkish airs by the brother of Donizetti (leader of the Sultan's musical staff), and blended with enough of the tambourine and the flute of the dervish, to satisfy Mahometan ears without outraging those of Euro peans. This march was pleasing, and by no means wanted character. Presently the whole cortege entered the palace, the open gate of which gave a partial view of a vast court surrounded by buildings of modern style ; but in a moraent the massive gates reclosed, and there reraained in the street but a few lingering spectators, dispersing rapidly in different directions ; a few Bulgarian peasants, in their huge overcoats and furred caps, and sorae withered old mendicants, crouched amid their rags along the front of the walls,- glowing and blazing beneath the noontide. Utter silence reigned around this mysterious palace, whieh, behind its trellised windows, encloses so much of languor and of ennui; and I could not forbear to think of all the wealth of loveliness thus lost to human sight ; the M 2 |88 CONSTANTINOPLE. marvellous types "¦ Grecian, Circassian, Georgian, and Indiaji beauty, wnicn fade there, without having been reproduced or perpetuated, by the pencil or the chisel, but which should have been immortalised in marble or on canvas, and bequeathed to the loving admiration of ages : Venuses, who will never have a Praxiteles ; Violantes, without a Titian; and Fornarinas, to whom no Raphael will ever be known. What a prize in the great lottery of life is that dra%vn bythe Padischa? What the deuce is Don Juan beside the Sultan ? A poor seeker of low adventures, — as often deceived as deceiving ; pursuing lady-loves, who have had husbands and lovers, — whose countenances have been seeu by the world, and whose fonns are known to the general eye! Speak to me of the Padischa! — the Sultan! — who gathers only the purest UUes, the most immacul.ate roses, of the garden of beauty ; and whose eye rests only upou forms the most perfect, never sullied by mortal gaze ; — forms which pass from the cradle to the tomb, guarded by sexless raonsters, in those magnificent soUtudes which the boldest dare not seek to penetrate ; and surrounded by a mj'stery and seclusion which offers no scope to even the most vague desire ! I had, at this tirae, changed my lodging ; having found that which I occupied at Dervish-Sohak rather too melan cholj', aud possessing no other "view" than that of one street, uarrow and dirty, like all others in Constantinople. I had removed to the Hotel de France, where, from a large saloon with eight windows, and furnished with a long , divan, I could see the Little Field of Pera, the roofs and minarets of Kassira-I'asha, and the heights of Saint Demetrius, — a prospect which might perhaps seem rather A TURKISH DINNER. 1S9 lugubrious at Paris, but gay enough at Constantinople. In this hotel I hnd made the acquaintance of a j'oung man, whose medical studies, and the perfection with which he spoke the Eastern languages, gave him great facilities for finding his way into the houses of the Turks, and becom ing acquainted with their domestic manners. He had been a reader of " La Presse," and a great admirer of M. de Girardin ; and my name, known by him as that of an author, caused him to interest himself in my excursions and my researches ; and to him I owed the good fortune of receiving an invitation to dine with an Ex-Pasha of Kurdistan, — a friend of my friend. We started together, about six o'clock in the after noon, in order to reach Beschick-Tash, where the Pasha resided, at sunset ; because, being stiU in the Ramadan, the fast was rigorously maintained, until the orb of day had disappeared behind the hills of Eyoub. At the quay of Top-Hane we took a caique, with two pair of oars ; and after a vigorous pull of half an hour, against a rapid current, our caidjis landed us at the foot of the cafe overhanging the water, ofwhich I have once before spoken, and which was now crowded with Tm-ks, waiting, watch in hand, and chibouque full-charged, the precise minute when they could raise to their lips the happy mouth-piece of amber, and inhale the fragrant fume of " the weed." After crossing several streets crowded with the shops of pipe-bowl makers, confectioners, dealers in cucumbers and other oriental wares, and all thronged with crowds of people, we began to climb a silent street, formed by the waUs of large private gardens, at the summit ofwhich was perched the house of the ex-Pasha of Kurdistan. A gate, which was just closing as we passed, allowed us to see an elegant brougham entering its coach-house. 190 CONSTANTINOPLE. It was the carriage of the Pasha's wife, who had just returned from a drive ; for, contrary to the European idea, the Turkish ladies, far from remaining waUed-up in the harems, go out when they please, on the sole condition of remaining closely veiled ; and their husbands never think of accompanying them. A low door, approached by a flight of three steps, was opened to us by a domestic in European dress (all except the invariable red cap) ; and, after having changed our shoes for slippers, which we had taken the precaution to bring with us, we were shown up to the first-floor, where is situated the selamlick, or mens' apartment'; always separated from the apartment of the women (the odalick), in Turkish houses, rich or poor, large or small. We found the ex-Pasha in a very plain room, with a wooden ceiling, painted gray and relieved by stripes of blue ; and having, for furniture, only two cupboards, a straw mat, and a divan covered with Persian silk ; at the extremity of which last was seated the master of the house, passing through his fingers a chaplet of sandal wood. The corner of the divan is the place of honour, which the master of the house never resigns, unless he is risited by some one of rank superior to his own. To explain this extreme simplicity, it is proper to mention, that the selamlick is, in a manner, an external apartment — an ante-chamber, beyond which strangers never pass, and which is reserved for the public part of the life of the Turk. AU the luxury is confined to the harem. It is there that are displayed the carpets of Ispahan or Smyrna ; there are spread the embroidered tapestries ; there stretch the soft divans of silk, and shine the little inlaid tables of pearl and agate ; there burn rich perfumes, in censers of gold and silver filigree; there A TURKISH DINNER. 191 bloom the rarest of flowers ; and there gleam, like sta lactites, the superb chimnej'-picces of marble of Marmora, and the fountains of perfumed water, which diffuse, at onee, freshness and melody. In that mysterious retreat passes the real and actual life — the life of pleasure and of intimacy ; and there no relative, and no friend, can ever penetrate. The ex-Pasha wore the fez, the buttoned frock-coat of the Nizam, and loose white trousers. His face, fine and hard in outline but with a slight air of weariness, was terminated by a beard in whieh some few gray hairs had already appeared, and had an air of distinction about it, that was not to be mistaken. In fact, to use an English expression, the Pasha had the air of " a perfect gen tleman." ' My friend interpreted to him my salutations, to which he responded most cordiaUy and graciously, and subse quently made me a sign to sit beside him. The readiness with which I crossed my legs like a Turk, — a raovement not so easily learned by a European, — made him smile, and evidently gave him a good opinion of me. The day began to decline ; the last orange tints of sunset were fading from the sky, when the thrice-blessed signal gun reverberated joj'ously through the evening air. The fast was ended for the day, and the servants Jip- peared, bringing pipes, glasses of watef, and sweetmeats ; this light collation serving to indicate that the faithful can legaUy begin to take food. Presently afterwards, they placed before the divan a large disk of brass, carefully polished and shining like a shield of gold, upon which they arranged different meats, in porcelain dishes. These disks, supported by one low foot, serve for tables ; and three or four persons can easily be ' The author uses the foregoing phrase in the original. — Trans. 192 CONSTANTINOPLE. accommodated around one of them. Table-linen is a luxury unknown in the East. They eat without table cloth or napkin ; but giv^ you, to dry your fingers, little squares of embroidered muslin, fringed with gold, and closely resembling what the English call " d'oyleys ;" a pre caution by no means unnecessary, because you use, at these repasts, no knives or forks except those known to Father Adam. In this case the Pasha, foreseeing my embarrassment, had most considerately caused me to be supplied with a silver spoon ; but I declined it, being resolved to conform myself, in all such particulars, to the usages of the country. Doubtless, in the estimation of the masters of the art of European cookery, the Turkish condition and style of culinary art would appear utterly barbarous aud patri archal ; but their dishes are not devoid of skill in pre paration, nor by any means made at random. They are .very numerous, and succeed ea,ch other rapidly; and the custom is, to take, with the fingers, a few mouthfuls from each dish. They consist of morsels of mutton ; dismem bered fowls ; fish dressed in oil ; cucumbers, in various fashions ; balls of rice wrapped in rine-leaves, and pan cakes with honey ; the whole sprinkled with rose water, slightly dashed with mint and aromatic herbs, and the banquet being crowned with the sacred "pilau-" a dish as rigorously national as ih& puchero of Spain, the couscoussou of the Arabs, the saur-kraut of Germany, or the plum- pudding of England ; and whieh figures, compulsorily, in all Turkish repasts, in palace or in cottage. For drink, we had water, sherbet, and syrup of cherries ; which last we dipped from a dish, with a tortoise-shell spoon fur nished with an exquisitely-carved handle of ivory. The meal ended, the brazen table was removed, and water brought for washing (an indispensable ceremony. A TURKISH DINNER. ' 193 when one has dined with no other "plate" than his ten fingers) ; then coffee was served, and the chibouckdji pre sented to each guest a superb pipe, with an exquisite mouth-piece of amber, aud a stera of cherry-wood as glossy as satin ; each pipe being supplied with a tuft of Macedonian tobacco, and placed upon a little plate of metal, laid on the floor, to preserve the mat from the sparks or ashes which might fall from the lighted bowl. The conversation was as animated as it well could be, when two of the three composing the party were obUged to make an interpreter of the third. The ex-Pasha seemed quite familiar with European politics, and over whelmed me with a mass of questions about certain leading events. He was especially anxious about the coup d'etat of December 2nd, of which he highly approved ; the abstract idea of a Republic, being very difficult to introduce into a brain fashioned beneath an oriental despotism. He wished to know if the Emperor had many cannon, and coraraanded a large number of troops ; what dress he wore ; if he rode well on horseback, and if he was likely to engage in wars as freely as his uncle, "Bounaberdi ;" if I was acquainted with him, or had spoken with hira ; and innumerable other questions of a similar kind ; — which I answered as I best could. The brother of the Pasha, seated near him, and who knew some words of French, seemed to follow the conversation with much interest. The servants removed the pipes. The ex-Pasha rose, and retired to perform his devotions, kneeling on a piece of carpet in an adjoining room ; and retumed, in a few minutes, calm and grave, after discharging his religious duty as became a good Mussulman. We exchanged a few words more ; and when we took leave, the Pasha told me to come again whenever it should please me to do so, and 194 . CONSTANTINOPLE. that I should be always welcome; a phrase which, from the lips of a Turk, is no idle forraula. As we went out, we spoke a few words with the secre tary, who was installed in an apartment on the ground- floor. He was a young man of exceedingly good manners — probably an Armenian, — who spoke French fluently. We found our caidjis awaiting us at Beschick-Tash. They soon conveyed us to Top-IIauc, where we stopped at a cafe frequented by Circassians. My friend translated their conversation ; and, to my amazement, I found them speaking of the politics of England and France, and even of the individual ministers of either country, with a per fect knowledge of the subject. While they thus talked politics, a little dervish came by, chanting a nasal canticle, with a tone and manner im possible to any European organ, aud soliciting charity, — a circumstance that brought me back to the East, which I had quite forgotten, in hearing the Circassians, who were talking like the regular subscribers to the " Journal des Debats" or the " Times." THE WOMEN. 195 XVI. THE WOMEN. The first question, invariably addressed to every traveUer • on his retum frora the East, is : " WeU, and the women?" To which cach responds by a smile, more or less mj'ste- rious and significant, according to his degree of fatuity, and the character of the inquirer ; but always implying, with more or less distinctness, that he has encoimtered more of romantic adventures than he thinks fit to recount to everybody. Whatever it may cost my self-love, I humbly avow that / have, in this particular, " no story to teU ;" but am compeUed, to my great regret, to send forth my narrative, devoid of aU incident of love or romance. A few such, would certainly have served admirably to vary my descriptions of cemeteries, mosques, tekkes, palaces, and kiosks. Nothing is more charming in an Eastem tale, than to read, how an old woman, in a deserted street, made you a sign to foUow her cautiously, and at a distance ; and introduced you, by a secret door, into an apartment heaped with aU the luxuries of the Orient, where, re- cUning upon a superb divan, a sultana, gleaming with jewels, — which, however, paled beside her superb love Uness, — impatiently awaited your coming, and received you with smiles of tenderness and welcome. In due course, the adventure should terminate by the sudden arrival of the master, who scarcely leaves you time to 196 CONSTANTINOPLE. fly by the back-door; unless, indeed, a more tragical cUniax is attained, by a contest from which you barely escape with Ufe, and the plunge into the Bosphorus, at dead of night, of a sack which bears some vague resem blance to the human form. This orthodox narrative of Eastem adventure, slightly varied in details, always passes current, and interests all readers; and more especially, aU " fair readers;" and doubtless, it is not entirely without precedent, that a young Giaour, handsome, rich, knowing thoroughly the language of the country, and residing in liis own house' in the Turkish fashion, should, with great perU to himself and absolute danger to the life of the lady, have an inti-igue with a Tm-kish woman ; but if such a thing occms, it is very rarely indeed, and this for many and obrious reasons. First, the bolts and the gratings, which intervene between the females and the rest of the world, are tangible and unmistakeable obstacles ; then, the difference of religion, and the unconquerable suspicion, with which every Turk — the women not excepted — instinctively regards aU un- beUevers; not to mention the difficulty, or almost im possibUity, of that prerious acquaintance, which might awaken a mutual regard between the parties. Besides this, it is to be remarked, that in most European countries, the world at large are rather disposed to con nive and smile at any "flirtation" which is observed, even though the lady be a married woman; wliUe in Turkey, a cawas, a hammal, any man, of even the lowest grade, who should observe a Mahometan woman speaking in the street to a Frank, or eveu exchanging the sUghtest sign of intelUgence with him, would Uterally fall upon her, with hand, foot, and cudgel, and be warmly applauded for such bmtaUty, by any casual spectators, especially among the women. No one, here, understands the remotest the women. 197 approach to raillery, on the subject of conjugal infideUty. The purely material jealousy of the Turks, and the pre cautions which it involves, protect them, almost invariably, from any cause of domestic scandal ; although jocose aUu sions to the subject are made famUiarly enough m the theatre of our friend Karagheuz, and in the course of the comic disputes incidental to his performances. It is tiue, that the Tm-kish women go out freely, take their walks and drives to the VaUey of Sweet Waters, to Hyder-Pasha, or to the Place of Sultan-Bajazet; seat them selves beside the tombs of the Little Fields of Pera or Scutari ; pass entire days at the bath, or in risits to their friends; talk beneath the porticos of the mosques ; lounge in the shops of the Bezestin ; and sad, in caiques or steamers, upon the waters of the Bosphorus; but thej' have always some companion, be it a negress, or an old woman in the capacity of duenna, or, if they are rich, a eunuch, often more jealous thau his master. If they are not thus accompanied, — which exception is rare, — a child, led by the hand, insures them respect ; or even in default of this protection, the tone of public manners watches over them, and "protects" them, perhaps, a little more rigorously than they altogether care about. The excessive Uberty of action which they enjoy is only apparent. Foreigners have sometimes fancied themselves beloved by a Turkish woman, when they have, in fact, confounded the Armenians with the Turks, whose costume they wear, except the yellow boots, and -whose manners and aUure ments they imitate so closely, as to deceive any but a resident of the country. For this, it suffices to have an old woman, who arranges her plans with a pretty young Armenian coquette, a rather credulous and romantic young man, and a rendezvous in a lonely house. Vanity does the rest ; ¦ and the adventure generally terminates in the 198 CONSTANTINOPLE. extortion of a smn of money; — an insignificant circum stance, omitted frora the subsequent narrative of the deluded Giaour, who imagines in his heroine at least the favourite slave of a Pasha, if not one of the harem of the Grand Seignor himself. But, in real truth, the actual Turkish life is not less " hermetically sealed " than we have always supposed ; and it is very difficult to even conjecture what passes behind those closely-trellised windows, the only view through which is that from within ; each being furnished with a sort of bull's-eye, to enable those on the inner- side to command a perfect view of all that passes without, whUe they themselves remain rigorously invisible. Nor is it of any use to think of obtaining information from the natives of the country. As the author says at the commencement of " Namouna " — " Utter silence reigns throughout this narrative." To speak to a Turk of the feraales of his household, is to commit the grossest possible breach of etiquette and politeness. It is forbidden to make the slightest allusion, even indirectly, to this delicate subject ; and, of course, all such phrases as " How is madam, to-day?" (common place as they are to us) are quite banished from conver sation. The most ferociouslj'-bearded and turbaned 'Turk would blush like a school-girl, if he heard an inquiry so outrageously improper^ The Ambassadress of France, wishing to make a pre sent to Redschid Pasha, of some superb Lyons silks, for the ladies of his harem, sent them to him with this brief note: — "Pray accept some silks, which you will know better than any one how to use." To have expressed more plainly the object of the gift, would have been bad taste, even in the eyes of Redschid Pasha, despite his familiarity with French manners ; and the exquisite tact THE WOMEN, 199 of the Marchioness caused her to adopt a form of expres sion so gracefully vague, as could not wound even the sensitive susceptibility of an Oriental. It is, therefore, easy to understand, that it would be singularly unbecoming to ask from a Turk any details as to the habits or customs of the harem, or the character and manners of the women. Even though he may have known you familiarly at Paris, have taken two hundred cups of coffee and smoked an equal number of pipes ou the same divan with you,, he wUl, nevertheless, if you question hira on this subject, stammer and hesitate, and evade your inquiries in every possible manner. Civilisa tion, in this particular, has not advanced a single step. The only method to employ, in order really to obtain any authentic inforraation, is to request some European lady, who is well introduced and has access to the harems, to recount to you faithfuUy that which she has seen. For a man, he may as well abandon, at once, the idea of knowing anything more of the Turkish beauties than he is able to gather from the glimpses whieh he m.ay snatch, by sur prise, from beneath the awning of an araba, through the window of a taUka, or beneath the shade of the cypresses of the cemetery, at some moment when heat or solitude has caused a momentary and partial withdrawing of the veil. StUl, if one approaches too boldly, even under such circumstances, — and especially if there chance to be any Turk within hearing, — he draws upon hiraself a shower of such compliments as the following : — " Dog of a Chris tian ! — Miscreant ! — Giaour ! — May the birds of the air soil your beard ! — May the plague dwell in your house ! — May your wife be childless !" The last being a BibUcal and Mahometan malediction, of the utmost severity. It may, however, be suspected, that this fury is more affected 200 CONSTANTINOPLE. than real, and is, in great part, a piece of acting " for the gallery;" for a woman, even though a Turk, is seldom displeased at being admired ; and among the Moslem women, the secret of their beauty, no doubt, weighs some what upon their minds (as any other secret would do upon any female mind), and they are not sorry to have an occasional confidant, of that sex which is best able to appreciate the value of the disclosure. By the " Sweet-waters of Asia," — by leaning immove ably against a tree, or the fountain, in the attitude of one who is lost in profound reverie, — I have been able to catch a glimpse of more than one lovely face, but imperfectly concealed by a thin veil of gauze half-withdrawn, and more than one sno-wy throat, gleaming between the folds of a half- open feredge, while the eunuch was walking at a little distance, or gazing upon the steamboats on the Bos phorus, assured by my assumed air of drowsiness and abstraction. . The Turks, however, see no more of them than do the Giaours. They never pass beyond the Selamlick, even in the houses of their most intimate friends ; and they are acquainted with no females but those of their own harems. When the inmates of one harem visit those of another, the well-known custom of placing the slippers of the visitors upon the threshold of the harem which they are risiting, at once announces the presence of strangers, aud in terdicts the entrance of the odalick, even to its own master; who thus finds himself, at any moment, shut out from a part of his own house. An immense female pojiu- lation — anonymous and unknown — circulates through this mysterious city, which is thus transformed into a sort of vast masquerade, — with the peculiarity, that the dominoes are never permitted to unmask. The father and the brother are the only males who are allowed to behold the faces of THE WOMEN. 201 theil- daughters and sisters, who rigidly veil themselves for any relative of remoter degree ; and thus a Turk may, iu his whole Ufe, have seen but half-a-dOzen faces of Moslem women ! The possession of large and numerous harems is re stricted to viziers, pashas, beys, ahd other persons of either great wealth or high ranlc, for their maintenance is enormously expensive; especially as each female who becomes a mother, is entitled to her separate apartments and her own suite of slaves. The Turks of middle rank have rarely more than oue wife (although legaUj' entitled to espouse four), together with perhaps three or four pur chased female slaves ; and, for them, the rest of the sex remains in the condition of a myth or chimera. It is tme, that they can compensate themselves by looking at the women of other races — the Greeks, Jewesses, and Ar menians, together with the few European ladies who extend their travels so far ; but of the females of their o-wn people, they know absolutely nothing beyond the waUs of their owu harems. The sentiment of love and the delicacies of courtship are, necessarUy, almost unknown to the Moslemah. A Turk who wishes to marry has recourse to some woman of mature age, who exercises the profession of a matri monial negotiator. This woman frequents the baths, and gives him a minute description of the personal charms of a certein number of Asmes, Rouchens, Nourmahals, LeUas, and other beauties of marriageable age ; taking proper care, of course, to adorn with the greatest profusion of metaphors the portrait of the young girl whom she herself favours, or whom it is her interest to select. The Effendi- becomes a lover on the strength of her description ; sprrakles with hyacinths the path by which his veiled idol must pass ; and, after the interchange of a few glances 202 CONSTANTINOPLE. (his share of which is limited to such glimpses of a pair of eyes as he can snatch through the close-dravni veU), demands the maiden of her father, offering her a do-wry proportioned to his passion and his fortune ; and at length sees removed, for the first time in the nuptial chamber itself, the yachmack which has hitherto concealed the fair one's features from his longing gaze. These marriages by procuration, do not appear to give room for much more of mistake or deception, than those which take place among us. It were easy to transcribe here, from the works of pre ceding traveUers, a mass of detaUs about the sultanas, the odaUsques, and the intemal economy of the harem ; but the books from which I should copy are before the world ; and I prefer to pass to something rather more pre cise, and to draw "a Turkish interior," from the sketch given me by a lady, who was iuvited to dine -with the ¦wife of that ex-Pasha of Km-distan, whose guest I had already been. The Pasha's wife had been iu the imperial seragUo, before marrying the Pasha. When they attain the age of thfrty years, the Sultan gives permission to certain of his slaves to many ; and they can always form most desirable aUiances, on accountof the relations wliich they are — or are supposed to be — able to maintain with the palace, and the honour which attaches to thefr haring formed a part of the imperial household. Besides this, they are always weU educated; knowing how to read, write, make verses, dance, and play upon ^ musical insti-uments ; and have also the stately manners, which are supposed to be acquired at court oidy. They usuaUy possess, moreover, both the sldll aud habit of political cabal and intrigue ; and often leai-n, through their friends who remain in the harem, state secrets, of THE WOMEN. 203 which their husbands avail themselves to win a favour or avoid a disgrace. To marry a daughter of the seragUo is, therefore, a very politic measure for an ambitious and calculating man. The apartment in which the Pasha's wife received her guest, was both rich and elegant, and formed a strong contrast to the plain severity of the selamUck, which I have described in the preceding chapter. Three sides of the room werc furnished with windows, so arranged as to admit thc utmost possible amount of air and light. A European conservatory would be the best illustration of this apartment ; and in that, too, they guard the loveUest and rarest of flowers. The floor was covered by a superb Smyrna carpet, upon which the heaviest foot would fall noiselessly ; the ceding was decorated with coloured and gUded arabesques ; a long divan, of yellow and blue satin, ran along two entfre sides of the room, and another very low divan stood between two -windows, from which was seen a splendid view of the Bosphorus in fidl perspective. In one eomer shone a beautiful emerald-coloui-ed ewer of Bohemian glass, placed upon a plateau of the same material, both being richly gilded ; while in the other angle was placed a chest, or large casket of leather, chased, inlaid and gilded in the most perfect taste. Strangely at variance, however, with this air of oriental luxurj', was a sort of table or chest of drawers of mahogany, the marble .slab of which , was surmounted by a clock in ormolu; covered by a glass shade, and standing between two vases of artiflcial flowers, also under glass ; the whole being neither more nor other, than one of those French clocks, with its supporters, which you will find on the mantel piece of every respectable burgher in the department of the Seine. These discrepancies abound in all those Tm-kish houses which make any pretension to " good taste ; " that N 2 204 CONSTAN'TINOPLE. is, those which ape the cirilised and European fashions of " the reform," and destroy the harmony of the fine old Turkish luxury and massive wealth of decoration, without having the skiU to introduce the substituted style in perfection. Next to this charming apartment was another, very plainly fui-nished, which served for a dining-room, and communicated with the stafrcase which led to the domestic offices. The Khanoun was sumptuously dressed, as the Turkish ladies always are, even at home ;' especiaUy when they expect visitors. Her black hafr, dirided into an infinity of sraall plaits, fell upon her shoulders and over her cheeks. Her head shone as if it were decked with a casket of diamonds ; for around a little cap of blue satin, were twined quadruple strings of briUiants of the finest water, covering the cap almost entirely, and sparkling with wonderful lustre. Her neck was encircled by a necklace of large pearls, and her chemisette of silk, half-open, gave to view a lovely throat, and the outline of a bust which owed nothing to the aid of the corset; that instrument of tortm-e being unknown in the East, or replaced only by the bowstring or bastinado. She wore a dress of dark ruby-coloured silk, open in fi-ont like a peUsse, looped up at eaeh side to the knee, and foi-ming behind a train, like that of a court-dress. This dress was trimmed with white ribbon, formed at intervals into rosettes ; while an exquisite Persian shawl encircled her waist, and confined a pafr of flowing trousers of white silk, the folds of which over hung her tiny slippers of yellow morocco, learing nothing of them visible, but the points of the toes, long and turned up in the Chinese fashion. She received her ¦s'isitor very gracefully, and placed THE WOMEN. 205 her beside herself on the divan (after having flrst offered her a chafr, if she should chance to prefer it) ; and then examined curiously, but not discourteously, the Emopean lady's dress ; frankfy, in fact, and without affectation ; as a weU-bred person, anywhere, may examine objects which are confessedly strange. The "conversation," between persons not speaking the same language, was necessarUy limited to pantomime, and could not have much variety. The Turkish lady in- qufred of the European " if she had any chUdren ;" and made her understand that she herself was, to her great regret, deprived of that happiness. When the dinner-hour arrived, they passed into the neighbouring apartment, similarly surrounded with divans, and the servants brought the small table of poUshed brass, suppUed with dishes very simUar to those with which I had been served when I dined with the Pasha ; except that the dishes of meat were fewer in proportion, and those of confectionery more numerous and more varied. A favourite female slave of the Khanoun partook of the repast, seated beside her mistress. She was a fine gfrl of seventeen or eighteen years of age ; lively, healthful, and superbly developed in person , but very inferior in race and breeding to the ex-odalisque of the seraglio. She had large black eyes, somewhat heavy brows, red lips, and full checks ; and, in fact, a bloom of somewhat rude and rustic health upon her countenance. A mulatto gfrl, of a fine bronze complexion, with a white scarf gracefuUy wound about her head, in the form of a turban, stood, with bare feet, near the door, and re ceived the dishes from the hands of the servant, who brought them to her from the kitchen below. After dinner, the Cadine rose, and led the way again into the saloon, where she presently smoked a cigarette, 206 CONSTANTINOPLE. instead of the traditionary narghUe ; which, in faet, is being to a great extent superseded aniong the Turkish ladies, by the cigarette ; the latter having become "quite the fashion," untU they are smoked almost as universally at Constantinople as at SeriUe. It is, in fact, a wonderful amusement and resource for the women, to employ their delicate fingers in pulUng the long threads of the latakia, and rolling them into the neat little cigarettes en papillote, which they subsequently occupy themselves in smoking. The master of the house now came to pay a visit to his wife and her European visitor ; but on hearing his approach, the female slave fled with extrerae precipitation ; for, it appeared that she belonged strictly to the lady, and being already promised in mamage, could not appear -vrith uncovered faee before the ex-Pasha ; who, by the way, like many other of his countrjrmen, had but one ¦wife. After the lapse of a few minutes, the Pasha retfred to pei-form his devotions, and the Khanoun recaUed her slave. The hour of departure had anived, and the sti-anger rose to take leave ; when her hostess made a sign to her to wait for a moment, and whispered a few words to the J-oung slave at her side, who immediately began to ransack the drawers in search of something, whieh she presently produced, and which the Pasha's wife handed to her guest as a souvenir ofthe pleasant evening passed together. Courtesy forbade the risitor to examine the gift, while still in presence of her hostess ; but fi-om the care -with which it was encased in a deUcate Uttle ecrin of morocco, she could not doubt that it was some rare object of oriental taste or skiU. On reaching her own apartment, she immediately opened the case, and found vv-ithin the object which the Pasha's lady had selected as a choice raemorial for her THE WOMEN. 207 fair visitor. It was a Uttle glass bottle, bearing an en graved and gilded paper, on which was inscribed the following legend : " Extrait pour le Mouchofr : Paris, Miei ; " while a similar scroll upon the reverse, dis played : " Extrait double, qualit6 guarantie de miei : L. T. Piver, 103 Rue Saint-Martin, Paris." 20S CONSTANTINOPLE. XVII. THE TERMINATION OF THE FAST. I HAVE repeatedly written the word " ca'ique," in this narrative ; and indeed it would be difficult to avoid doing so in speaking of Constantinople ; but I do not remember that I have given anything like a precise description of the thing itself, although it is weU worthy of it ; for the caique is, assuredly, the most graceful vessel that ever rippled the blue waters of the sea. Beside the Tui-kish caique, the Venetian gondola, elegant enough in itself, is but a fisherman's skiff; and the gondoUers are but vulgar watermen, compared to the superb caidjis. The caique is a boat of tome fifteen or twenty feet in length, by three in width ; shaped like a skate, and ter minating at each extremity in such a form as to be rowed in either direction with equal facility. The sides are forraed of two long boards, carved on the inside to re present foUage, flowers, fi-uits, knots of ribbon, aud other deUcate omaments. Two or three other boards, carved into open-work, intersect the boat laterally, and support the sides against the pressure of thc water, while a sort of iron beak arms the prow. All of this is executed in beech-wood, waxed or varnished, and relieved sometimes by bands of gilduig ; and is of an elegance and neatness not to be surpassed. TERMINATION OF TIIE FAST. 209 The caidjis, who pull each a pair of oars, sit upon a low cross bench, which is covcrcd with a sheep-skin to prevent the rowers from sUpping as they work ; and thefr feet are braced against a small slab of wood. The passengers sit in the bottom of the boat, near the stem, and are so placed as to have the effect of slightly elevating the bow of the craft, and so causing it to swim more easUy ; an object, for the attainment of which, it is not unusual even to grease the outside of the boat, that it may encounter less friction from the water. A more or less costly carpet covers the bottom of the caique ; seated upon which, it is necessary to maintain the most rigid immobility ; for the sUghtest sudden movement might capsize the fragile vessel, or at least cause the wrists of the rowers to come in contact. The caique is, in fact, as sensitive in the matter of counterpoise as a balance, and lurches fearfuUy to right or left, in punishment of the slightest departure from strict equilibrium. Thc ira- passivpiiess of the Turks, always motionless as statues, suits amazingly with this constraint, which is as singularly trying to the petulant restlessness of the Giaom-s ; who, although soon becoming habituated to the necessity of the case, generaUy imperil their lives some scores of times, by thefr indiscreet rivacity, before acquiring the proper self- control. Four persons can sit in a two-oared caique. Despite the heat of the sun, these boats have no awning ; for that convenience would not only retard thefr progress, but be contrary to the Turkish etiquette, which restricts its use to the caiques of the Sultan only ; but it is usual to carry a parasol, merely taking care to lower it, on passing near any of the imperial residences. One of the caiques will easUy keep pace with a horse, passing along the shore at a rapid trot ; and, indeed, often outstrip him. 210 CONSTANTINOPLE. Everj' caique bears near the bow a sort of plate or badge, indicating the laudiug at which it is stationed : — Top-Hane, Galata, Yeni-Djami, etc., etc. The caidjis, or boatmen belonging to the caiques, from which they take their name, are mostly superb feUows, — Arnaouts or Ai-matoUans, — of herculean build, and fine, manly proportions. The air and sun, in embro-wning their skius, have given them the tint of handsome bronze statues, — the form of which they afready possessed. Their dress consists of loose linen trousers or drawers, of pure white ; striped shirts, with sleeves looped-up to leave their arms unemban-assed ; a red fez, the blue or black tassel of which is more than six inches in length ; and a woollen sash, striped with yellow and red, wliich is woimd repeatedly around the waist, giving support to the chest, and finely developing the bust. They wear nothing of beard but the moustache, to avoid the heat which the superfluous hair would occasion. Their feet and legs are bare, and their shirts, opeu in front, expose a chest of great breadth and power; while, at each stroke of the oar, the biseps muscles rise upon thefr brawny arms like baUs of iron. The compulsoiy ablu tions of their religion keep always in a state of thorough cleanliness these fine models of form, glowing with the robust health, consequent upon thefr open-au- avocation and an invariable temperance miknown among the same classes in northern countries. These men, despite the severity of their labour, eat little else than bread, cucum bers, maize, and fruits, and drink nothing but water or coffee ; and those who are Mussulmans, pull from inorning till uight without even taking a drop of water, or a single puff of the pipe, during the whole thirty days of the fast of Ramadan. It is certainly no exaggeration, to estimate at three or TERMINATION OF TIIE FAST. 211 four thousand, tho number of caidjis who ply at the various landing-places of Constantinople, and fi-om the Bosphorus to Theraiiia or Buyuk-Dere. The arrangeraent of the town, separated ns it is from its suburbs by the Golden Horn, the Bosphorus, and the Sea of Marmora, necessitates perpetual cominunication by water. It is necessary, at each moment, to take a caique, to go from Top-Han6 to Sera'i-Boumou ; from Beschick-Tash to Scutari ; from Psammathia to Kadi-Keu'i ; or even frora one side to thc other of the Golden Horn, if one chances to be a little too remote for convemence, from any of the bridges of boats which cross the harbour. Nothing can bc morc amusing, than, on nniving at one of these landing, or rather embarking, places, to see thc caidjis crowd around and dispute the possession of J-our person, as our old hackney-coachmen used to do in former times, assailing each other with an amazing volubility of abuse, while each overwhelms the desfred passenger with praises of his own particular boat ; the tumult being often augmented by the participation of a stray dog or two, who complain loudly of having been distm-bed or trampled upon by the boatmen, in thefr re gardless haste. At length, pushed, hustled, elbowed, " chaffed," and bewildered, you reraain the helpless prej- of one or two gigantic feUows, who bear jou in triumph towards their own caique, through grumbling groups of their disappointed brethren. But although, when you have once fairly surrendered, you experience aU the chivalrous courtesy with which gaUant soldiers maj' be expected to treat " prisoners of war," your perils and difficulties are by no means past ; for to get into a caique without causing it to turn its keel uppermost, is an operation requiring great skiU, care, and experience. Some one, however, volunteers to maintain 212 CONSTANTINOPLE, the boat in its perpendicular, while you effect your em barkation ; and for this complaisance you toss hira a. para, or something like half-a-farthing. Nor is it always easy to disengage the caique from the large fleet of boats in which it lies, and which is to be found at every landing-place ; and it is ouly by the in comparable skill of the caidjis, that this feat is accom plished without collision or capsize. To " land," the caique tums so that its stei-u shall touch the shore ; and this evolution also requfres great address, and would lead to frequent collisions, but for a certain code of "cries" which serve as signals, and by means of which the boatmen communicate their intentions to each other. On landing, the passenger leaves the amomit of his " fare " upon the carpet in the bottom of the caique, in piastres or bechliclcs, according to what may have been the length of the passage, or the price agreed upon. It is a pleasant vocation, that of a caidji at Constan tinople; and would continue to be avery lucrative one, but for the interference of steamers, which begin to ply upon the Bosphorus, like the small steamers upou the Thames, with frequent stoppages and low fares. From the bridge of Galata — beyond which they can not penetrate — a crowd of steamers starts at every horn- in the day — Turkish, EngUsh, Austrian, or Freuch — the smoke frora which mingles with the silvery haze of the Golden Horn. They deposit thefr passengers by lumdi-eds at Bebck, Amaout-Keui, Anadoli-Hissar, Therapia, and Buyuk-Derd, iipcm the Eurojiean shore ; or at Scutari, Kadi-Keu'i, or Princes' Islands, on the Asiatic coast, — passages which it was foi-mcrly necessary to make in caiques, at great expense of both time and monej', and not without incurring some danger from the force of the TERMINATION OF TUE FAST. 213 currents, and from the wind, which is Uable to burst in riolent gusts, at any moment, from the mouth of the Black Sea. The caidjis strive in vain to compete in speed -with the steamers. Thefr muscles of flesh strain themselves hope lessly, against the fron muscles of the engine. There wUl soon remain for the caidjis only the short intermediate distances and crossings, and the patronage of the Turks of the "retrograde" party, who, stUl weeping over the annihilation of the Janissaries, employ caiques only, to transport them to their summer mansions, out of hatred to the diaboUcal intrusion and inventions of the Giaours. There is also a sort of caique-omnibus ; a heavy affafr, laden with some thfrty persons, and propeUed by four or six oarsmen ; who, at each stroke, rise, mount upon a wooden step, and throw themselves downward again -with aU thefr weight, to moA'e the enormous oar that they ¦wield ; which automaton-Uke movement, repeated momen tarily, produces a curious effect. The passengers by these boats are soldiers, hammals, Jews, old women, and poor devils in general, 'who employ this cheap but slow means of transport ; which, however, the stearaboats wUl soon banish, by the creation of thfrd-class fares, for passengers ofthis description. I have not, therefore, been at aU surprised to hear of a riot among the caidjis ; for it was an event easUy to be predicted, on seeing the funnels of the innumerable steamers which smoked around the bridge of Galata, and whitened, beneath thefr paddles, the waters, which, untU then, had been disturbed only by oars hoUowed into cres cents. Afready, even during my sojoum, the boatmen crouched moodUy upon thefr deserted stafrs, regarding with saddened eye the steamers crowded with passengers, which gUded swiftly past, and stemmed the rapid current 214 CONSTANTINOPLE. Uke gigantic fishes, and as if the water were their native element. At length, comes the long waited-for termination of the Fast of Ramadan ; which epoch is always celebrated by public rejoicings, as if it were a national calamity from which the people were just relieved, instead of the performance of an essential ceremonial of thefr reUgion ! The Bosphorus, the Golden Horn, and the Sea of Marmora, all present, therefore, an aspect the gayest and UveUest imaginable. All the ships in the harbour are decorated -with streamers ; flags of all nations float on the breeze. The swallow-tailed Turkish standard displays its three crescents of silver upon a shield of green, in a crimson field ; Franee unrolls her simple tricolor ; Austria flings wide her banner streaked vrith red and white, and charged with her escutcheon ; Russia shows her cross of blue upon a field of silver ; Great Britain her blended crosses of Saint George and Saint Andrew, and America her sky of azm-e sprinkled with stars ; while around may be seen the blue cross of Greece, bearing in its centi-e the black and white chequer of Bavaria ; the blood-red pennon of Morocco (of old time widely known and di-eaded on the seas as the fearful ensign of avowed pu-acy) ; the green flag of Tripoli, sprinkled with half-moons, and the green, blue, and red stripes of Tunis : whUe the sun plays and sparkles brightly, upon aU these banners, reflecting and multiplying them in the limpid waters beneath. Salvos, in every du-ection, salute the caique of the Sultan, wliich passes, resplendent -vrith purple and gold, propeUed by the vigorous arms of thirty caidjis ; whUe the sailors, crowding the yards of aU the ehips, pour forth incessant th-anders of cheering, and the alanncd albatrosses wheel TERMINATION OF THE FAST. 215 and circle, amid the hea^y wreaths of smoke which begin to surround the vessels. I take a caique at Top-Hane, and go from one ship to another, examining the form of the different vcssels. and pause to give thc preference to those of Trebisond, Mou- . dania, Ismick, and Larapsaki. Thefr stems rising Uke castles, their bows resembUng the breasts of swans, and thefr masts with long lateen-yards, cannot differ much in model from the vessels which composed the Grecian fleet, at the tirae of the Trojan war ; and it would not require much iraagination to picture to one's self the fair-hafred AchiUes, seated upon one of these lofty poops bathed by the sea into which flows the Simois. The "American clippers," so much vaunted, are far from having this elegance of contour; speed and utiUty are quaUties not worth speaking of. In wandering about, my boat grazes that island of rocks -whence rises the tower which the Franks have named (Heaven laiows why!) "Leander's Tower," and which the Turks caU Kiss-Koulessi, or " The Maiden's Tower." Itis hardly necessaiy to say, that the tradition of Leander is very absurdly attached to this white tower, since it was the Hellespont, aud not the Bosphorus, across which he swam to risit the fafr Hero, — the lovely priestess of Venus. But the Turkish designation is explained by a veiy graceful legend. The Sultan Mahmoud had a daughter of singular beauty, to whom a sorceress had predicted that she woidd die of the bite of a serpent. Her father, alarmed, and seeking to thwart this sinister prophecy, caused a kiosk to be built for his daughter, upon this island of rocks to which no reptUe could find access. Tho son of the Schah of Persia, having heard the fame of the marveUous beauty of Mehar-Schegid (this was the name of the young girl), 216 CONSTANTINOPLE. became passionately enamoured of her, and contrived to convej' to her one of those emblematical bouquets, by which the Orientals make their tender avowals in letters of flowers. Unhappily, among the clusters of hyacinths and roses an asp had nestled and lay concealed, which stung the finger of the Princess as she clasped the love- token. She was dying from the effects of the sting, in dcfiiult of finding some one sufficiently devoted to suck the poison frora the wound, when the young Prince, the author of all the evil, presented himself, drew the venom from the sting with his Ups, and thus saved the life of Mehar- Schegid, whom the Sultan afterwards bestowed upon him as a wife. The simple truth, however, is, that this tower, or one upon its site, built by Manuel Commenus, in the time of the Lower Empire, served to support one part of the immense chain of iron, which (attached also to two other points of the shores of Europe and Asia) barred the entrance of the Golden Horn to hostUe vessels descending from the Black Sea. If we go still fm-ther back, we shall find that Damalis, wife of Charis, — the general sent from Athens to succoiir the Byzantines, when attacked by Philip of Macedon, — died at Chrysopolis, and was bm-ied upon this island, beneath a raonument surmounted by the effigy of a heifer. A Greek inscription, which has been preserved, was carved upon the column of the tomb ; and this, no doubt, is the true origin ofthe name of" Kiss-Koulessi ;" the " Tower," or " Tomb," of the " Maiden." The epi taph runs thus : — " I am not the image of the cow, daughter of Inachus, and I have not given my name to the Bosphorus, which extends before me. Her, the cruel resentment of Juno drove beyond the seas ; but I who occupy this tomb, I am one of the dead— a daughter of Cecrops. I TERMINATION OP THE FAST. 217 was the wife of Charis, and I sailed with that hero, when he came to combat the ships of Philip. Until then, 1 had been called Bo'iidion, the young heifer ; now, the wifo of Charis, I enjoy two continents." This epitaph explains why a heifer was carved upon the funeral colmnn of Damalis. It is kno-wn that, among the Greeks, the cow has fumished more than one com pUmentary subject of coraparison ; and that Homer even gave to Juno the eyes of the ox. Boiidon is, therefore, a graceful surname, according to ancient notions ; and it is not strange to find it appUed to a lovely young woman. But enough of the Greek ; let us retum to the Turk. It is the custom, at the termination of the fast, that the Queen-mother should make the Sultan a present of a young virgin, of the most surpassing loveliness ; and to find this phoenix, the slave merchants, or djellabs, ran sack, for months in advance; both Circassia and Georgia ; and the price of the selected damsel mounts to a fabulous height. This closing day of the fast, is consecrated to prayers, and risits to the mosques ; and in the evening there is a general Ulumination. If the riew of the harbour, with aU the shipping de corated with flags and streamers, and its perpetual move ment of vessels, was afready a marveUous spectacle beneath the superb sun of the Orient, what must it not have been beneath the nocturnal iUumination ! It is in attempting to delineate such scenes, that one discovers the impotence of both pen and pencU. Nothing less than a diorama, aided by its actual motion and rapid changes, could convey the sUghtest idea of the magical and gorgeous effects of light and shade, which this scene presented. The Turks are particularly fond of buming powder on all occasions of rejoicing ; and the roar of cannon re sounded continuaUy in aU dfrections ; the minarets of the 218 CONSTANTINOPLE. mosques shone Uke beacons ; ver.ses of the Koran were traced, as on the former occasion, in letters of fire from tower to tower, and seemed as if inscribed in characters of light upon the dark blue of the evening sky. The com pact crowd descended, in human cataracts, the streets of the hiUs of Pera and Galata ; around the fountain of Top- Hane shone, like glow worms, thousands of lights ; while the mosque of Sultan- Mahmoud rose proudly toward the sky, with its outUnes marked by lines of flame, and its muiarets flashing in the brilliant but fitful light. A boat took myself aud friend on board a ship of the Austrian Lloyds, where the kindness of an acquaintance had obtained a place for us. Top-Hane, iUuminated with Bengal lights of green aud red, blazed in the atmosphere of an apotheosis ; disturbed, however, at eaeh moment, by the earthquake breath of artillery, the crackling of fire works, fizzing of serpents, and bm-sting of bombs. The Mahmoudieh — mosque of Mahmoud — appeared of the colour of an opal ; or like those palaces of carbuncleSj erected by the glowing fancy of Ai-abian story-tellers, for the habitation of the Queen of the Peris. It was bluid- ingly magnificent ! The ships at anchor lined their masts, yards, and bulwarks with lamps of green, red, blue, and j'cUow ; and resembled castles or churches of jewels, floating upon an ocean of flame ; so dazzling were the waters of the Bos phorus, illurained by the reflection of tlus blaze of lamps, and this wilderness of coloured Ughts. Serai-Bournou seenied like a promontoiy of topaz, above which burst forth, encircled by bracelets of fire, the masts of silver formed by the minarets of Saint-Sophia, Sultan-Achmet, and the Osmanieh. Upou the coast of Asia, Scutari threw out myriads of brilliant rays ; and the two flaming shores of the Bosphoms, enclosed, as far as TERMINATION OF THE FAST. 219 the eye could reach, only one continuous stream of fircj which gave out innumerable clouds of sparks, whenever touched by the oars of the countless caiques, which flashed and gUded fri all dfrections. OccasionaUy, some ship in the distance — not before perceived — was surrounded in a moment by a whole firmament of suns and stars, of blue and purple, which disappearing, she vanished again iuto the shadow, Uke a brilUant dieam. The effect of these pyrotechnic sur prises was charming. The steamers, starred -with coloured lamps, went and came, bearing bands of music, the clash of whose instm ments, rose joyously upon the breeze, or died away in the distance, to be again renewed. Above aU this, the sky, as if it were also desfrous of joining in the iUumination, displayed prodigaUy its casket of stars, upon thefr field of lapis-lazuU, of the richest and deepest blue ; of which the sublunar conflagration seemed hardly to redden eveu the verge. I remained for an hour or two on board the Austrian vessel, intoxicating myself with this wonderful spectacle — sublime and unrivalled ; and trying to imprint for ever upon my memory, the picture of these dazzling scenes of magic, reflected in the mirror of the Bosphorus. What are our poor fetes in the Place de la Concorde, where we burn some scores of lamps, beside this artificial fire of diamonds, emeralds, sapphfr-es, and rubies, which stream and shine over a surface of teu or twelve nules in length, and instead of extinguishing themselves in the water, are only multipUed and rendered more briUiant by its reflection ! Here and there the brilUancy begins to fade ; breaches are risible in the Unes of fire ; the powder explodes at longer intervals, and with some seeming difficulty ; the. o 2 220 CONSTANTINOPLE. massive banks of smoke, which the wind ean no louger drive away, roll and heave upon the water like enormous seals ; the cold dew of the night begins to penetrate even the thickest garments, ^d one is forced to think of re tiring ; an operation, however, attended -with both diffi culty and perU. My caique awaited me at the ship's side. I haUed my caidji, and we departed. There was upon the Bosphorus the most incredible swarm of boats of all kinds, and of more kinds and numbers than one can imagine or estimate ; and, despite aU the usual signals and precautions, the oars were con stantly clashing, the boats' sides raking against each other ; and at every instant, it was necessary for the caidji to trail , the oars to prevent them from being tom from his hands, or his frail vessel overset. The points of the bows of boats passed vrithin two inches of my face, like leveUed lances, or the beaks of birds of prey ; the reflections of aU the Ughts on the shore were shedding thefr last rays, blinding the caidjis, and de- ceiring them as to thefr true dfrection ; when a boat at fuU speed came dashing forward, dfrectly across our course, and must inevitably have gone over us, — in which case I should have been sent to the bottom, or cut in two, — if the boatmen had not, with extraordinary quick ness and skiU, backed their oars, and an-ested thefr progress, -with a strength and suddenness that seemed superhuman. At length I axi-ived, safe and sound, at Top-Hane, through a tumult of boats and cries, at once deafening and maddening ; and, amidst a crowd swarming around the landing, like ants in summer, I made my way to the Hotel de France in the Little Field of the Dead, through streets which began to be deserted ; picking my way, with care, among the encampments of slumbering dogs ; TERMINATION OF THE FAST. 221 and, wearied out with seeing, hearing, and enjoj'ing, was speedily lost to everj'thing, but the recurrence in dreams of -vague impressions of the magnificent spectacle just ¦witnessed, and certainly never to be forgotten. During this time, the fortunate CaUph, in the depths of the seragUo, had raised the veil of the lovely slave presented to him by the Queeu-mother;' and his eye had scanned those unsurpassed charms, which, henceforth, no eye of man save his own should ever behold. The flower had been plucked, and had bid fareweU for ever to the afr and the soU of nature, and the free light of heaven ; and, although placed in a jewelled vase, was destined to fade and pine, in perpetual, though splendid, imprison ment. ' The " Queen-Mother," or " Sultana- Valid^," are equivalent terms. — Trans. CONST.iNTINOPLE. XVIII. THE WALLS OF CONSTANTINOPLE. I IIAD formed a decided resolution to make a grand expedition among thosc remote districts of Constantinople, which arc but rarely visited by travellers ; their curiosity seldora extending farther than the Bezestin, the Atmei dan, Sultan-Bajazet, the Old Seraglio, and the environs of Saint-Sophia ; around -syhich localities is concentrated the life and movement of the Moslem City. I started, accordingly, at an early hour, accompanied by a j'oung Frenchman, who had been a long time resident ill Turkey. We descended rapidly the slope of Galata ; crossed the Golden Horn, by the bridge of boats, on pay ing four paras to the toll-keeper ; and leaving Yeni-Djami at one side, we plunged boldly into a labyrinth of narrow streets and lanes, of the purest Turkish character. As we advanced, the scene becarae more lonely ; the dogs, growing more savage at each stage of our progress, glared sullenly at us, and followed growling at'oiir heels. The wooden houses, discoloured and dUapidated, with their crumbling lattices and floors out of line, presented much the appearance of decayed hen-coops. A fountain, in ruins, allowed its water to escape thi-ough various un- THE WALLS OF CONSTANTINOPLE. 223 regarded crevices, into a green and slimy basin. A dis mantled lurbi (funeral chapel), overrun with briars, nettles, and daffodils, displayed, through its cob-web covered gratings, some dingy sepulchral columns, leaning to right and left and offering to view only a few illegible inscrip tions. A marabout reared its coarsely whitewashed dome, flanked with a minaret which resembled a tall candle surmounted by its extinguisher ; above the long line of waUs projected the sable cones of cypresses, and tufts of sycamore, or plane-tree, hung over into the streets. No more mosques with colurans of raarble, and Moresque balconies ; no more konacks of pashas glowing with brilUant colours, and sustaining their elegant aerial gaUeries ; but, instead, great heaps of cinders, from amidst which rose black and grimy chimnej's, formed of bricks placed on end. On every side, decay, dilapidation, and neglect ; and above aU this squalor and abandonment, the pure, dazzling, implacable sun-Ught of the Orient, making even more painfuUy obrious every minute detaU of the -wretchedness around. Through lane after lane, crossing after crossing, we reached a large dUapidated khan, with lofty arches, and long stone walls, originally designed to accommodate caravans with trains of camels. It was the hour of prayer ; and from the exterior gaUery of the minaret of the neighbouring mosque, two muezzins, clad in white, and moring around the gaUery vrith the step of phantoms, proclaimed the sacramental . formula of Islam to these mansions, deserted, blind and deaf, and losing themselves in silence and soUtude. The verse of the Koran thus proclaimed, and which seemed almo.st as if it had been uttered from heaven (so devoid was the region of any movement of humanity), caUed forth no other response thau a sort of sigh from some dog whose 224 CONSTANTINOPLE. dreams it distm-bed, or the flapping of the vrings of some pigeon alarmed by its suddenness. The muezzins, however, did not the less continue their round, uttering the names of AUah and of the Prophet to the four winds of heaven, Uke sowers who are regardless where the seed faUs which they scatter in thefr progress, weU knowing that it -vrill find root somewhere. Perhaps, indeed, beneath even these wonn-eateu roofs, aud in the recesses of these seemingly abandoned ruins, there may be some of the faithful who spread their wom and faded carpets ; and, turning themselves towards Mecca, repeat, with sincere devotion, " AUah is Allah, and Mahomet is his Prophet." A negro on horseback passes occasionaUy ; an old female mummy, stuck against a wall, protrudes frcm amid a mass of rags her monkey-like paw, and profits by the unexpected occasion to demand alras ; two or thi-ee young imps (who seemed to have escaped bodUy fi-om one of Decamp's marvellous sketches), seek to amuse themselves by throwing pebbles into the basin of the exhausted foun tain ;' a few Uzards crawl fearlessly about over the stones ; and this is aU. I felt myself, in my own despite, oppressed by an over whelming sadness ; and I should even have forgotten the proposed object of our ramble (which was to see the mountebanks near the gate of Silivi-i-Kapoussi), if my companion had not repeatedly rerainded me of it. I was fatigued, and perishing with thirst ; for, without thinking of it, we had traversed an enormous space, and diverged very considerably from our road, which we re covered, not without difficulty. We traversed the court and garden of a mosque, the name of which I forget ; and our ears were saluted with the sound of some barbarous and discordant music, issuing from an enclosure or booth THE WALLS OF CONSTANTINOPLE. 225 of planks, which indicated to us that we were on the right track at last. There it was, indeed. We seated ourselves upon one of those low ottomans or footstools (about four inches in height), which abound in these places ; caUed for coffee and pipes, and gave our best attention to the performance, which, in the middle of the area, around whicli we were seated, was ttking place upon a heap of fine dust. This exhibition was that of Moors, performing nearly the same feats, as have been so often executed in France and Eng land, by the Arabian troop of gymnasts or acrobats. Indeed, I even fancied that I could recognise the big fellow, who served as the base of the human pyramid, and carried eight men piled upon his bronzed shoulders. Some wooden-horses, supporting tight-ropes, showed that the exhibition had been augmented by rope-dancing ; but we arrived too late to witness that part of the per formance ; a fact which I regretted exceedingly, because the performers were little girls of eight or ten years old, and (we were told) very pretty and singularly agile. There were also some comic rope-dancers; Turks with large beards, and great parrot-noses, who assumed, with the utmost gravity, the most grotesque attitudes. At the extremity of the area was a latticed gallery, a serail, as they say in Turkey, serring as a private box, or tribune, for the females ; and we were made to retfre, that they might depart unmolested, — the presence of Giaours outraging their modesty ; a modesty soraewhat exaggerated, I must say, for we saw them pass at a distance, muffled up to the eyes, and looking like nothing on earth so much, as those wicker-work frames on which they hang the linen in the baths. We now sought for something to eat; for if we had refreshed our ej'es, our stomachs were none the better for 226 CONSTANTINOPLE. it, and every instant aggravated our sufferings. But in this unheard-of quarter, there were none of those delicacies to which we had accustomed ourselves ; no kabobs sprinkled with pepper ; no balls of rice wrapped in vine- leaves ; or exquisite salads of cucumber, floating in oil, amid delicate morsels of meat. We found nothing to buy but white mulberries and black soap — a- rather mediocre feast. We hurried on famishing, casting our hungry eyes in all directions, and observing the streets which, being at least less deserted than the rest, seemed to offer some promise of sustenance. At length, a benevolent old Greek lady, who was followed by a small servant carrying a large parcel, took pity upon us, and pointed out, at no great distance, a sort of restaurant, in which we could probably appease our hunger. Her iuformatiou proved to be most accurate ; only the restaurant had been closed for several years ! The recollections of the good old lady dated back to the days of her own youth ! The quarter through which we now passed, presented an entirely new aspect. It had no longer a Turkish air. The half-open doors of the houses, allowed the eye to penetrate the interior. At unlatticed windows, appeared charming female heads, decked with little caps of gauze, and surmounted by large braids of hair, forming a sort of crown. Young girls seated on the thresholds, gazed fear lessly into the street ; and we could, without alarming them, adraire their pure and delicate features, their fafr tresses, and large blue eyes. Before the cafes, men in white tunics, red caps, and jackets with loose hanging sleeves, were swallowing large glasses of raki, and niaking theraselves drunk like good Christians. In short, we were in Psaiuraathia ; a quarter inhabited by the rayahs, the non-Mussulman subjects of the TUE WALLS OF CONSTANTINOPLE. 227 Porte ; a sort of Greek colony in the midst of the Turkish town. Animation had succeeded to silence; merriment to sadness. We found ourselves, once raore, amid a race of living beings ; and we unconsciously felt the unspeakable advantages of Christianity, even of the lowest order, over Heathenism, in a social point of view. A young vagabond, seeing us in search of a tavern, offered himself as our guide, after raaking us look at his passport, like a young scamp, as he was ; and conducted us in a most round-about manner, in order to enhance the importance of the service, to a sort of restaurant, situated about twenty steps from where he started with us. We gave him a few paras for his trouble ; but, thinking himself, no doubt, inadequately rewarded, he possessed himself, with all the skill of a patriarch of pick-pockets, of the porte-monnaie of my companion, which contained some five and twenty shillings in bechlicks and piastres ! We entered a large room, where, behind a counter charged with dishes and bottles, stood a truculent-looking brigand, seemingly far more fitted to cut the throats of travellers than of chickens. This ferocious, blue-bearded personage, condescended, however, to serve us with some prawns, and some mullets broiled in paper ; followed by peaches, raisins, cheese, and a flask of white resinato wine. He was unable, on that day, despite our wish, to supply us with any meat ; for it was, I know not what feast of the Greek church, and fasting from flesh was obligatory. But we were so desperately hungry, that this simple collation seeraed to us a Belshazzar's feast ; and we were almost looking to see the fiery inscription blazing upon the wall. Meantime, however, Psammathia stood firm upon its foundations, and we achieved our repast without any Biblical catastrophe. 228 CONSTANTINOPLE. Duly refreshed, we put ourselves again under way vrith renewed vigour, and soou reached the gate which is nearest to the Castle of the Seven Towers ; in Greek Ileptapurgon, in Turkish Jedi-Kuuleler ; names which have, all three, the same signification. Here we en countered one of those men with horses for hire, who so abound at Top-Han6, near the Green Kiosk, or. by the great cemeteiy of Pera, and in other frequented quarters of Constantinople, but of miraculous rarity in such a place as this. We speedUy bestrode his two beasts, who were very lucely caparisoned, and as good, certainly, as those pretended English jades, with which our triumphant countiymen parade the Champs Elysees at Paris. 1 These worthy beasts of Kurdistan, the one white, the other black, set out side-by-side in brotherly style, at a long swinging pace, followed by thefr master on foot ; and we, turning to the right, left upon the other hand the dilapidated towers of the reno-wned old prison of the state ; the prison to which, as tradition records, the Porte was wont to commit the foreign ambassadors, at the moment of declaring war against the countries which they repre sented; not thinking it worth whUe to stand upon ceremony -vrith mere Christian dogs. But times have changed sUghtly, and the Turk has leamed to look -vrith different eyes upon the European Powers, since the time when the Castle of the Seven Towers obtained its fearful and gloomy reputation. We would have gone along the whole outer extent of these ancient waUs of Byzantium, fi-om the sea to Ederne- Kapoussi, and even farther, had we not been far too much fatigued. I do not suppose, that there is iu the world a ride more austerely melancholy, than upou this road, which extends for nearly a league, between a cemetery and a mass of ruins. THE WALLS OF CONSTANTINOPLE. 229 The ramparts, composed of two lines of waU flanked with square towers, have at thefr base a large moat, at present cultivated throughout, which is again surrounded by a stone parapet ; forming, in fact, three lines of fortifi cation. These are the waUs of Constantine ; at least such as have been left of them, after time, sieges, and earthquakes have done their worst upon them. In their masses of brick and stone, are still -risible breaches made by cata pults and battering-rams, or by that gigantic culverin, that mastodon of artUlery, which was served by seven hundred cannoniers, and threw balls of marble, of nearly half a ton in weight. Here and there, a gigantic crerice severed a tower from top to bottom ; farther on, a mass of waU had fallen into the moat ; but where masonry was wanting, the elements had suppUed earth and seed ; 'a shrub had suppUed the place of a missing battlement, and gro-wn into a tree ; the thousand tendrils of parasitical plants sustained the stone which would otherwise have faUen ; the roots of trees, after acting as wedges to introduce themselves between the joints of the stones, became chains to confine them ; and the line of wall was stUl (to the eye) continued -vrith out interruption ; raising against the clear sky its battered profile, and displaying its curtains and bastions, draped vrith ivy, and gilded by time, -vrith tints by tums meUow and severe. At intervals were risible the ancient gates, of Byzantine architecture, overlaid -vrith Turkish masonry, but stiU leaving euough of the original to be recog nised. It was difficult to reaUse, that a U-ving city lay behind the defunct ramparts -vvhich hid Constantinople from our view. It had been easier to beUeve one's self near some of those cities of the Arabian legends, all the inhabitants 230 ' CONSTANTINOPLE. of which had been, by some magical process, turned into stone. Only a few minarets, rearing their heads above the imraense circuit of ruins, testified that there was life within, and that the Capital of Islam stdl existed. The conqueror of Constantine XIIL, if he could return to the world, could make again, with striking appro priateness, his celebrated quotation from the Persian : " The spider shall weave her web in the palace of Emperors, and the owl cry by night from the towers of Ephrasiab." These embrd-wued waUs, encumbered by the vegetation pecuUar to ruins, which seemed to expand itself lazily in the soUtude, and over which crept'fearlessly an occasional lizard, -witnessed, four hundred years ago, thronging around thefr base, the hordes of Asia, urged on by the ten-ible Mahomet II. The bodies of Janissaries and of savages roUed, covered with wounds, in this moat, where now peaceful vegetation displays itself ; streams of blood poured down, where now droop only the tendrils of i-«y or of sassafras. One of the most fearful of humau struggles — the conffict of race against race, of religion against religiou — occurred on this spot, now deserted, and where now reigns the silence of decay and death. As is always the case, the young and vigorous barbarism overpowered the old and decrepid civiUsation ; and while the Greek priest StiU continued tranquiUy to ft-y his fish, unable to beUeve in the possibility that Constantinople coidd be taken, the trimnphant Mahomet II. spm-red his steed into the sacred precincts of Saint-Sophia, and struck his ensanguined hand upou the marble waU of the sanctuai-y, in token of, conquest. The Cross fell before the Crescent ; and the corpse of the Emperor Constantine was withdra-wn fi-om a heap of nameless dead, bleeding, mutilated, and distin- THE WALLS OF CONSTANTINOPLE. 231 guishable onlj' by the golden eagles, which served as clasps to his buskins of imperial purple. I spoke just now of the priest, occujjied in frying his fish, dming thc heat of the terrific and final nssault upon Constantinople, and who repUed, incredulously, to the announcement of the success of the Turks, " Pooh ! I would sooner beUeve that these fish wiU come to life again, jump out of the boUing oil, and swim upon the floor !" This prodigy, however, is said to have actually occurred, and, of course brought conviction to the mind of the obsti nate monk ; and it certeinly was followed — or preceded — by the parallel prodigy of the triumph of the Moslems. The miraculous escape ofthe fish was made into the cis- tei-n ofthe ruined Greek church of Baloukli, which is risible at some distence from the ramparts, a Uttle before arriving at SUivri-Kapoussi. The fish themselves are red upon one side, but browu on the other, in memory of their expe rience of the frj'ing-pan, in which they were haK-cooked ; and a poor devil of a monk stUl exhibits them to strangers ! Although I do not profess opinions of the Voltafre school on the subject of mfracles, I did nof think it ne cessary to go to the convent, to verify or refute this one for myself; especially as it was a non-CathoUc miracle, which I was by no means called upon to believe. I con tented myself, therefore, with taking the legend upon trust ; and continued my progress. The rains of winter, the winds of suraraer, and the work of time, have heaped the dust upon the road which we were pursuing, and which has, probably, not been re paired since the days of Constantine, and have so utterly destroyed its distinctive character, that in places it seemed more like the summit of some vast, half-biu-ied rampart, than a practicable roadway ; but, nevertheless, two arabas were teking their comse along it, — one, gilded and painted, 232 CONSTANTINOPLE. fiUed with ricly-dressed and closely-veUed females, car rying beautiful children upon thefr knees ; the other, formed of coarse planks attached by a rough frame-work of wood, and crowded with a troop' of Zigani, male and female, brown as Indians, wUd, and half-clad ; who roared out some rude Bohemian baUad, accompanied by the deep tones and melodious clang of tambourines. I have yet to understand how these clumsy vehicles — alike clumsy, despite the difference of decoration — escaped being a hundred times precipitated, in fragments, to the bottom of the trenches on either side ; but the oxen were sure-footed, and the drivers never left hold of their horns. As to myself, I quitted this rugged pathway of stones, and walked my horse beneath the cypresses of the immense old cemetery, whieh stretches from the Seven Towers to the foot of the hUls of Eyoub. I was riding slowly along a narrow path, traced among the graves, when I observed, resting beside a tomb, a young female, veUed -vrith a rather transparent yachmack, and enwrapped in a feredge of pale green. She held in her hand a bunch of roses, and the fixed gaze of her large and luminous eyes, seemed to indicate that she was lost in profound reverie. Did she bring these flowers as a tribute to the grave of some beloved one ; or was she simply idUng among these gloomy shades ? That is a question which I cannot answer ; but, at the sound of the hoofs of my horse, she raised her head, and, through the transparent muslin of her veU, displayed a face of surpass ing loveliness. Doubtless, my eyes expressed, frankly, the admiration which her beauty excited; for she ap proached the verge of the pathway, and, with a move ment full of timid grace, offered me a rose, drawn from her bouquet. My companion, who foUowed, now overtook me ; and THE WALLS OF CONSTANTINOPLE. ¦ 233 she offered him a rose, also, with an instinct of deUcacy, which seemed designed to correct aught that might have been too free, in her first impulse. I saluted her, with my best grace, in the oriental maimer ; two or three companions rejoined her, and she disappeared beneath the shadow of the overhanging cypresses. Thus terminated the only "conquest," I can boast among the Turkish fafr ones. But I have never forgotten those luminous black eyes, -vrith thefr rich, drooping lashes ; and I stUl preserve, with care, the rose she gave me, and which I shaU ever guard as a precious reUc. , 234 CONSTANTINOPLE. XIX. JEWISH QUAETEK. GREEK QUAETEE.— TURKISH BATH. Were I making an antiquarian tour, instead of the joumey of an artist, or mere traveUer, I should have been able to indulge, here, in a long dissertation upon the probable sites of the edifices of ancient Byzantium ; to reconstruct thcm, from the few dubious fi-agments lost amid the aggregation of Turkish hovels and ruins ; and lend authenticity to my creations or assumptions, by tran scribing and importiag bodily into the subject, a certain number of Greek inscriptions, which would, at least, have given me an air of great learning and antiquarian msdom. But I prefer a rough sketch made from nature — a real impression honestly rendered. I shall not, therefore, enter upon a detaUed account of every ancient gate, nor seek to define the precise spot, on which fell the unfortunate Constantine Dracosis ; a spot marked, nevertheless, — so they say, — ^bj' a gigantic tree planted on the rampai-ts. These gates open through, or beneath, massive towers ; and are also ornamented by columns of a composite order, indicating the decadence of the Byzantine architecture, and the shafts of which are often borrowed from some ancient temple. The " Golden-Gate," is the designation of an arch way, completely filled-in -with solid masom-y ; but, accord ing to an old tradition, the future conquerors of Constan- JEWISH quartf.r. 235 tinople, wUl penetrate into the city by this gate, through which, aforetime, passed in triumph Alexis Stratcgo- polos (lieutenant of Michael Paleologus), when he, in one night, reconquered Byzantium frora Beaudoin II. , and put an end to the Freuch Empire in the East. Is it true, as the Greeks hope and expect, that this gate will soon open again its massive portals, to adrait thefr co-religionists the Russians, aftcr the interval of four hundred years (fi.xed bj' a prophecy as the time which should intervene frora the last capture of Constantinople) shall have elaipseA,— a period which tvill expire on the 29//j of May next; and will mass, on that day, be celebrated in Saint-Sophia, in presence of the Czar ? This is a question — being of the future — whose depths I will not seek to explore ; but recent events render it by no means surprising, that the imaginations of both Greeks and Turks should be strongly excited, in reference to a prophecy so long, and so well known, and the fulfilment of which at one moment seemed far frora irapossible, if it could be then deeraed even improbable. 'The interference of the corabined forces of Great Bri tain and France, seems now, however, to militate strongly against the literal fulfilment of the prediction ; but it may, perhaps, prove that through the " golden gate " of friendly alliance and advanced civilisation, the resident Christians may enter Constantinople as the equals of the Turks, and by such peaceful conquest over prejudice and intolerance, offer a fulfilraent of the prophecy, in a better and loftier sense than even a literal one ; and one certainly scnrcely less remarkable, or, but a short time since, less jjrobable, than would have been the actual militarj' entry of the Russians, as victors and conquerors. Near the Adrianople gate we dismounted from our horses, to take a cup of coffee and smoke a chibouque, in ' p 2 236 CONSTANTINOPLE. a cafe which we found crowded with a motley population ; and this done, we pursued our way, stiU followed or ac companied by the cemetery — the Field of the Dead, — the extent of which seemed almost as etemai as the repose of its inhabitants. At length, however, we did find the end of the wall of the cemetery, and were able to re-enter the town, by guiding our steeds with great care among the broken and decaying tombs, and over the slippery fragments of marble with which the earth was thickly strewn. In this way we arrived at a quarter of a strange and peculiar aspect. The houses became more and more dilapidated, poor, and dingy. Their fronts — haggard, riven, and projecting in all dfrections — seemed ready to fall, not only in ruins, but in a state of putrefaction. The roofs seemed afflicted with scurvy, and the waUs to reek with leprosy. A few mangy dogs, reduced to the condition of skeletons and swarming with vermin, lay sleeping in the black and fetid mire. Some -wretched rags hung at the windows, behind which, aroused by the tramp of our horses, we discovered strange and grotesque heads, covered with enormous turbans, or rather pads of white linen ; haggard and sickly countenances, whose yellow skin and lifeless black eyes, reminded one of nothing so much as of omelettes, into each of which two coals had fallen. Some phantoms passed furtively along, among the houses, their foreheads bound with a rag of white spotted with black, — as if a usurer had wiped his pen there all the day, — and their forms enveloped in ragged garments, varnished with dirt. Wewereat JSo^ato; the Jewish-quarter — the Ghetto of Constantinople ; and we saw there the squalid residue of four hundred years of oppression and exaction — the filth, beneath which these people, everywhere proscribed, sought, JEWISH QUARTER. 237 like certain insects, to escape from their persecutors. They endeavour to save themselves from pursuit, by the disgust which they inspire ; they live in the mire, and acquire its colour. It were almost impossible, to imagine anything more impure, or more thoroughly infected. Scurvy, scrofiila, leprosy, and aU the other Biblical irapurlties and diseases, of which they have never been cleansed or cured since the days of Moses, devour them, without a seeming effort on their part to oppose their ravages. Money and gain seem their sole idea ; they do not shrink from even the plague, if they can raake sorae small profit upon the garments of the dead. In this hideous region, roll, pell-mell, Aaron and Isaac, Abraham and Jacob — those grand old Scriptural names, with their historic associations, reduced to sueh companionship ; and these unfortunates, of whora sorae are clandestinely millionaires,-^their wealth their greatest danger and cm-se, — live chiefly upon the heads of fish, which are cut off as poisonous ; and which induce, among the Jews, certain dreadful disorders. This filthy diet has, for them, the paramount advantage of costing almost nothing ; for oppression has degraded them, until the possession of money which they dare not use, and for mere possession of which they are persecuted, is their sole and absorbing object in life. On the opposite side of the Golden-Horn, upon a bar ren declirity, extends the cemetery which absorbs their sickly race. The sun burns the formless stones which compose thefr tombs, where not a blade of grass grows, nor a single tree casts its shade. The Turks would not allow that luxury to the proscribed race ; but chose that their place of burial should retain the aspect of a place ignominious and accursed. It is scarcely permitted to them, to carve a few Hebrew characters upon the rude 238 CONSTANTINOPLE. blocks of stone, which sprinkle with their rough masses this desolate and miserable field of mortalitj'. What a difference between these sickly and suffering caricatures of humanity, these women, whose age, and even sex, it is difficult to conjecture, and the superb Jewesses of the time of Constantine, beautiful as the Queen of Sheba, and clad like her in their dalmatiques of silk and purple ; their girdles and chains of gold, and embroidered and jewelled tiaras ! It is, nevertheless, the same race, although one can hardly give the fact credence. The one could offer models for the Madonnas of Raphael ; Rembrandt alone would be capable of making the others figure in sorae scene of squalor, or of infernal magic. The same abasement of race is discernible among the men as the women. Not one has that purity of type common to the Jews of Africa, who seem to have pre served their original oriental stamp, in its highest per fection. The Turks, who recognise A'issa (Jesus) as a prophet, have demanded from the Jews a fearful retribution for his death. It is proper to add, however, that at present, they are not maltreated as in former times ; and their lives and fortunes are tolerably safe against persecution and extor tion. But they do not yet feel sufficient assurance of safety, themselves, to abandon the filth and miserj', which have, heretofore, been their only protection. They are still re pulsive, sordid, and low ; hiding their gold amid rags. They, in tum, take their vengeance upon Christian, Greek, and Turk, in the waj- of usury. In the recesses of these infected hovels, more than one Shylock, awaiting the maturity of his bond, sharpens his knife upon ^he leather of his shoe ; more than one cabalistic rabbi, casts ashes upon his head, and works his incantations, to obtain from Heaven the chastisement of GREEK QUARTER. 239 nations, who have been afready, for centuries, swept from the face of the earth. We issued, at length, frora this -wretched locality, and made our way into Phanaris — the quarter inhabited by the better classes of Greeks ; a sort of " West End," in proximity to an " Alsatia," or a " Cour des Miracles." It consists of houses of stone, of considerable architectural pretension ; many of which have balconies sustained by brackets cut into steps, or ornamented with sculpture. Others, more ancient, recaU the narrow fronts of the small French mansions of the middle ages — half-fortresses and half-dwellings. The walls are thick enough to sustain a siege ; the iron shutters are bullet-proof ; enormous gratings defend the windows, and the cornices seem to transform theraselves unconsciously into battlements ; a harmless luxury of fortification, which is at present ser viceable only against fire, whose forked tongues would lash themselves in vain against these piles of masonry. This quarter is, in faet, what remains of the ancient Byzantium. Here live, in obscurity, the descendants of Commenus, Ducas, and Paleologus ; princes vrithout prin cipalities, but whose ancestors have worn the purple, and in whose veins flows the blood of emperors. Thefr own servants treat them as kings, and they console themselves with the reverence which they receive from their own race. Considerable wealth is contained in many of these mansions, which, although richly omamented within, are very plain externaUy ; oriental luxury habitually shi-inking from any display which may attract the envy or cupidity of those in power. The Phanariotes have long been celebrated for thefr diplomatic talent, and they formerly dfrected aU the intemational affafrs of th^ Porte; but they seem to have lost ground very much, since the Greek revolution. 240 CONSTANTINOPLE. On issuing again from Phanaris, we enter the streets which coast the Golden-Horn, and in which swarms an active commercial population. At every step, one en counters hammals in couples, carrying immense weights suspended between them from a pole ; asses, harnessed between two long planks of which each supports an end, obstruct the thoroughfares, and mow down all who do not rapidly get out of their way, whenever they tum a comer. In fact, these poor beasts sometimes remain fixed against the walls of a narrow street, vrithout being able either to advance or retreat ; an occurrence which, by checking the circulation, speedily produces an agglomeration of horse men, foot-passengers, porters, women, children, and dogs ; who grumble, swear, shout, and bark in all varieties of tone, until the ass-driver succeeds in puUing his beast out of the dUemma by the tail, and so opens again the thoroughfare. The accumulated crowd begins to flow on again in its destined channels, and tranquiUity is re-established ; not, however, without a previous liberal distribution of thumps and thwacks, of which the donkeys, as the innocent and unwilling cause of the difficulty, engross, very properly and equitably, the greater portion. The ground rises, in the form of an amphitheatre, from the sea to the ramparts of which we had just made the circuit ; and above the medley of roofs of the Turkish houses, the eye could discern, here and there, some frag ment of the embattled wall, or some arch of the ancient aqueduct, which enclose the wretched modem construc tions, that seem deliberately prepared to encourage fires, and which a single match would set in flames. How large a portion of Constantinople has afready crumbled into ashes, at their base, in sight of these dark and antique masses of stone ! A veritable Tm-kish house TURKISH BATH. 241 of one hundred years old, is a veritable rarity in Stamboul. Our " master ofthe horse," waUting with his hand upon the croupe of my steed, led ray friend and myself through the crowd and the labyrinth ; aud we soon reached the second bridge across the Golden-Hom ; following which, we traversed "Kassim-Pasha" and the acclivity of the Little Field, and were deposited at the door of the Hotel de France ; our guide not appearing to have suffered the least fatigue from this enormous roiind. As for me, I threw myself upon a divan near the window, and abandoned myself to the luxury of the kief, somewhat overcorae by fatigue and by the narcotised tobacco with which I had charged my pipe ; and in the evening, after an early supper, I felt little temptation to pursue my custom of walking in front of the caffes of the Little Field. The next day, finding myself slightly rheumatic, I de termined to take a bath in the Turkish fashion (which is declared to be a wonderfully refreshing process) ; and with this view, I dfrected my steps towards " the baths of Mahmoud," situated near the Bazaar, and admitted to be the largest and most luxurious in Constantinople. Thc traditions of the aneient Thermm, lost to us, are preserved in the East. Christianity, in teaching the dis regard of material things, has allowed to fall into gradual desuetude, the inculcation of care for our perishable bodies as a duty ; regarding such a sentiment as savouring somewhat of paganism. Indeed, some Spanish monk or other, some time after the conquest of Granada, actually preached against the use of the Moorish baths ; and declared those who used them, obnoxious to the charge of sensualism and heresy. But in the Orient, where cleanliness of person is among 242 CONSTANTINOPLE. the first obligations of religion, the baths have preserved aU the luxmy of both the Grecian and the Roman periods ; and are superb edifices, of the loftiest architectural pre tension, with cupolas, domes and columns, em-iched with marble and alabaster, and displaying great varieties of colour and design ; while they are thronged with armies of attendants, whose various offices recall the ancient time afready named, and carry us back, in imagination, to Rome and Byzantium. A large hall, opening upon the street, — the doorway of which is closed only by a piece of tapestry, — receives the risitor on his entrance. Near this doorway, the master of the bath is seated, having on one side the "till," into which he drops the money received as the price of the batb, and on the other, a sort of chest, in which he deposits the watches, money, and other articles of value left with him by the bathers on their entrance. Around this hall, at a temperature neai-ly the same as exists externally, run two raised galleries, supplied with camp-beds ; in its centre gushes a fountain, whose spray floats in the afr-, or spdrkles upon the marble floor. Around this fountain are ranged pots of basil, mint, and other odoriferous plants, of which the Tm-ks are so peculiarly fond. Cloths of white, blue, or parti-colour hang upon cords, or are pendant from the ceiling, recaUing the flags and banners in the arches of Westminster or the In valides. In the beds, smoking, sipping coffee, drinking sherbet, or sleeping WTapped to the chin, the bathers — i. e., those who have bathed — await the moment when perspiration shaU have ceased sufficiently to permit them to dress. I was made to ascend to the second gallery, by a little wooden stafrcase, and a bed pointed out to me ; and so TURKISH BATH. 243 soon as I was disencumbered of my clothing, two tellaks twisted a white napkin around my head, in the form of a turban, and enwraped me, from the waist to the ankle, in a piece of calico, like the drapery of the Egyptian statues. At foot of the stairs, I found a pair of gigantic wooden shoes, into which I stuck my feet ; and, thus equip ped and mounted, I was half led and half supported by the teUaks, into the second apartraent, where a somewhat more elevated temperature is maintained. Here I was left for a short time to habituate myself to the atmosphere, and be prepared in some degree for the heat of the thfrd chamber, in which the ternperature is raised to 125° or 130" of Fahrenheit. These baths differ very much from our " vapour-baths." A fire burns continually beneath their slabs of marble, and the water, which is spread above them, is volatilised in clouds of white steam, instead of issuing from a boUer in jets. They are in a manner air-baths, and the extreme heat induces the most profuse perspiration. Under a sort of cupola, lighted by large panes of a greenish glass, and admitting but a vague and doubtful light, were disposed sorae seven or eight marble slabs, — resembling tombs in form, — to receive the persons of the bathers ; who, extended like corpses on a dissecting- table, submit to the first process of a Turkish bath, which consists in being lightly pinched, and not so lightly rubbed and kneaded, untU their persons are covered with a dew of perspiration, like that which forms outside a bottle of champagne when placed in ice. When the pores are thus opened, and the whole frame streaming with perspiration, the bather is raised by the attendants, made to assume again his wooden shoes, — without which the feet would be blistered by contact with the heated floor, — and conducted into one of the niches. 244 CONSTANTINOPLE. which abound in the wall of the rotunda that forms the bathing-roora. A fountain of white marble, from which are drawn, at pleasm-e, jets of either hot or cold water, occupies each of these niches. The tellak makes the bather sit near the basin, arms his hand with a guantlet of camel-skin, and begins to " curry," first the arms, then the legs, and after wards the body, with a mercUess severity, which almost draws blood, but inflicts no actual excoriation or injury. Then, from the fountain, he dashes over his patient several basins of warm water ; and having allowed this to partiaUy dry, seizes him again and "polishes him off" with the naked hand ; causing long gray rolls to peel from the skin, in a manner astounding to a European convinced of the cleanliness of his own person. This process is followed by a new deluge, and then by a fresh scrubbing with tufts of hemp streaming with soap-suds. Then the tellak separates the hair, and scrubs the skin of the head ; and then follows a cataract of fresh water, to prevent any determination of blood to the head, in consequence of the heat and the friction. My teUak was a young Macedonian, — perhaps, of fifteen or sixteen years of age, — whose skin, softened by constent immersion, had acquired a brownish tint, and a fineness of polish almost inconceivable. He had no flesh left, nothing but muscles ; but no lack of strength, for all that. These various ceremonies terminated, I was enwrapped in dry Unen, and conducted to ray bed, where two youths " kneaded " me once more. I lay there for about an hour, in a drowsy reverie, taking coffee and iced lemonade ; and when I at length rose and went forth, I felt so light, so supple, so relieved from all sense of fatigue, that I appeared to be walking on air. THE BAIRAM. 245 XX. THE BAIBAM. The Ramadan was finished ; and, -vrithout detracting in the least from the zeal of the Mussulmans, it may be acknowledged that the termination of the fast is always received with general satisfaction; because, despite the nocturnal carvinal which is blended with the daUy fast, it is excessively severe. At this epoch every Turk renews his wardrobe ; and nothing can be prettier than to see the streets sparkling with new clothing of gay and bright colours, ornamented with embroidery which displays all its first freshness, instead of the accustomed gathering of rags, which, how ever picturesque, are more pleasing in a picture of De camps than in reality. Now, therefore, every Mussulraan puts on aU that he has of richest and gayest aspect ; blue, pink, green, and scarlet, shine in all directions ; the muslin of the turbans is clean, the babouches unsoiled by dust or wear ; and, in fact, the mefropolis of Islam has put on its hoU day garments from head to foot. If a traveller just arrived by steamer, were to land to day, and depart again to-morrow, he would teke -vrith him an idea of Constentinople strangely different from that which a more lengthened sojoum would give. The city of the Sultans would appear to him much more Turkish than it reaUy is. 246 CONSTANTINOPLE. The streets are thronged with musicians, bearing fifes and druras, who had given serenades, during the Rama dan, to the more considerable inhabitants. When their charivari has lasted long enough to attract the attention of the inraates of a house, a lattice opens, and a hand appears, which throws a shawl, a piece of stuff, a sash, or some analogous article, which is quickly placed in a basket laden with gifts of the same description. This is the bachish, given as the reward of the previous efforts of the musicians, who are generally novices from the tekkes of the dervishes. This sort of service is paid by the Turks " in the lump," in preference to giving, on each occasion, a para, or a halfpenny. The Bairam is a ceremonj' similar in kind to the hand- kissing ill Spain ; and all the great digniteries of the empire cometo pay their homage to the Padischa (Sultan). Turkish magnificence is theu seen in all its splendour ; and it is one of the most favourable occasions that can be seized, by a stranger, to study and admire the luxury, ordinarily concealed behind the mysterious walls of the seragUo. Only it is not easy to witness this ceremony, except by being fictitiously included, for the moment, among the members of some friendly embassy. The Sardinian Legation kindly consented to show me this favour ; and at three o'clock in the moming, one of the minister's cawas knocked at my door with the hilt of his sabre. I was already up, dressed, and ready to follow him. I descended in all haste, and we began to thread the mountainous, streets of Pera ; arousing hordes of sleep ing dogs, — regardless of the proverb, — who raised their noses at the sound of our footsteps, and essayed a feeble bark, as an acquittance to their consciences ; and encounter ing long fUes of camels, whose loaded flanks grazed the walls of the houses, and hardly left us room to pass. THE BAIRAM. 247 A gleam of rose-coloured Ught began already to tinge the summits of these houses, although their base was still wrapped in deep shadow. It was very charraing to see the dawn plaj'ing upon these roofs, and brightening the spfres of thc neighbouring minarets, with a freshness of hue which I have seen in no other clime. One seems to realise, that he is but two steps from the land where the sun rises. The sky of Constantinople has not that intense blue, characteristic of southern countries, but resembles more that of Venice, with, however, greater transparency and more of light and vapour. The sun, as it rises, seems to throw aside curtains of pink muslin and silvery gauze ; and it is not imtil a more advanced hour, that the atmo sphere is bathed in some tints of azure. It is easy to imder stand, in walking at this early hour in Constentinople, the force of the epithet rododactulos, which Homer applies, so invariably, to the dawn. We had to caU for some other persons on our way ; but — rare occurrence — we found every one ready ; and, our little band being completed, we descended to the landing- place of Top-Hane, where the caique of the legation awaited us. Despite the early hour, the Golden-Horn, and the large basin which expands at its entrance, presented a most animated scene. AU the vessels were decorated with many-coloured flags and streamers, from boom to •track. A vast nuraber of gilded boats, decorated with superb carpets or tepestries, and manned by vigorous oars men, flew across the rose-tinted water ; and these boats, laden -vrith pashas, viziers, beys, and other dignitaries, coming from thefr palaces on the banks of the Bos phorus, were aU directing thefr course towards Serai- Bournou. The albatrosses and gulls, somewhat amazed at this 248 CONSTANTINOPLE. unseasonable tumult, flew about, and hovered, screaming, over the boats ; or seemed seeking to chase away, with thefr wings, the few scattered flakes of morning mist, which -stUl lay upon the surface of the water, Uke frag ments of swans'-down. A vast number of boats were crowded about the landing-place of the Green Kiosk, in front of the seragUo quay ; and it was with great difficulty that we reaohed the shore, which was, in tum, crowded with sais, holding superb horses by the bridle and awaiting thefr masters. As we were somewhat too early, we went iuto the Green Kiosk, to teke pipes and coffee. This kiosk is a charming pavilion, in the aneient Turkish style, but now shorn of its original splendour, and serving only for a guard-chamber and waiting-room. It is covered externally with draperies and awnings, of the colour which its name indicates ; while, internally, the remains of sculpture, enamel, painting and gilding, evince the more dignified uses of its primitive destination. On this occasion, it presented a curious gathering of diverse "types," — European, Asiatic, and Turkish; of richly-dressed cawas of the various embassies, and soldiers in the uniform of the Nizam, whose bronzed complexions alone declared them Mussulmans. At length, the gates of the seraglio were thrown open, and we passed through a court lined with cypresses, sycamores, and plane-trees, of enormous size; bordered with kiosks of Chinese design, and buildings with battle mented walls and demi-tuiTets, resembling somewhat the English feudal architecture, — a milange, in fact, of garden, palace, and fortress ; until we reached an inner court, at the angle of which rises the ancient church of Saint Irene, now transformed into an arsenal ; and where is also a smaU building, pierced with numerous windows, and TIIE BAIRAM. 249 devoted to the use of the foreign embassies ; from which can be seen all that passes. The ceremony commenced with a religious act. The Sultan, accompanied by his chief officers, goes to perform his devotions at Saiut-Sophia. It was now, perhaps, six o'clock, and every neck was outstretched for the first sign of moveraent. Presently, a powerful band was heard, playing a Turkish march, arranged by Donizetti, the Sultan's musical director. The troops stood to their arms, and formed in line. These soldiers, forming a part of the imperial-guard, were dressed in white-trousers and red-jackets, not dissimilar to the undress of English grena diers ; and with which the fez does not harmonise badly. The officers mounted the superb horses, whom we had afready seen kept in waiting by the sais. The Sultan, arrived frora his suramer palace, directed his com-se towards Saint-Sophia. Now came the Grand Vizier, the Seraskier, the Capidan- Pasha, and the other Ministers, all clad in the straight frock-coat of the Reform, but so covered with gold embroidery, that it required a sharp eye, to detect any feature of European costume; although, on the other hand, the tarbouch was not sufficient to Orientalise it. They were surrounded by groups of officers, secretaries, and other subordinates, superbly dressed, and mounted (like their masters) upon magnificent horses. Then came Pachas, Beys of provinces, Agas, Selictars, and other officials, composing the four odas of the selamlick, whose strange names would convey no idea to the reader, and whose functions are : — this one to un-boot the Sulten, — that, to hold his stirrup, — and the other to hand him the napkin or escritoire ; and, finaUy, the Tzouhadar, or " Chief of the pages," the Icoglans, and a whole host of inferiors, forming the household of the Padischa. Q 250 CONTSTANTINOPLE. Next, advanced a detachment of the body-guard, in a uniform somewhat more in keeping with our traditionary idea of Oriental splendour. These guards, selected for thefr superb appearance, wear tunics of velvet, embroid ered with brandenburgs of gold of amazing richness; white trousers of silk, and caps shaped like an inverted mortar (resembling, in fact, those wom by the French presidents and judges) ; surmounted by immense plumes of peacock's feathers, of two or three feet in height. They are armed with curved sabres, suspended fi-om a broad belt of the richest gold embroidery, and large gilded and damascened halberts, the blades of which are formed into those grotesque and ferocious-looking shapes, characteristic of the ancient Asiatic weapons. To these, succeeded some half dozen superb horses, — barbs, or Arabians, — led by the hand, and caparisoned witb housings and head-stalls, of inconceivable richness. These housings, embroidered with gold and starred -vrith precious stones, were also enriched by the imperial cypher, the compUcations and interlacements of which compose a most elegant arabesque. These ornaments were so crowded, that the red or blue ground, formed by the material of the housings, was scarcelj- discernible. The luxury of these saddles and caparisons, takes, with the Turks, the place which with us is conceded to the orna mentation of our carriages ; although, now, not a few of the pashas begin to import broughams or chariots, from Paris or Vienna. These noble animals seemed to have a consciousness of their beauty. The light played upon the changeable gloss of their polished flanks ; their manes flashed in sparkling waves at every movement of their graceful heads ; they had that proud aud yet gentle air, that look almost human, thnt elasticity of movement, and half coquetiy of manner. THE BAIRAM. 251 ¦which form the aristocratic bearing of the Eastern steeds of pure race, and enable us to understand the semi-idolatry of the Orientals for these superb creatures, whose qualities are vaimted by the Koran itself, and the care of whom is recommended to the faithful, as if to add the obligation of religious duty, to the natural feeling of admfration, and almost of affection, which creatures so high in the scale of animal nature, and possessing such uoble quaUties, would even otherwise inspire. These horses immediately preceded the Sultan, who was mounted upon another noble beast ; whose housings glowed with rubies, topazes, pearls, emeralds and other precious stones, forming the " flowers " of a mass of golden foliage. Behind the Sultan, marched the Kislar- Agassi and the Capou- Agassi, chiefs df the black and white eunuchs ; theu a corpulent dwarf, with ferocious visage, dressed Uke a pasha, and occupying towards his master the position of the jesters of the middle age. This little dwarf was stuck, doubtless for contrast, on top of a gigantic horse, which his short legs could hardly bestride. I suspect that he is the oidy one of his species, now existing in Europe ; the only recognised "Court Jester; " and the office of Triboulet, AngeU, Wamba, etc., is perpetuated in Turkey alone. The eunuchs no longer wear the lofty white cap, with which they are represented on the European stage. The fez and the single-breasted frock-coat, now form their dress ; but they have uot the less that peculiar aspect, which at once identifies them to the observer. The Kislar- Agassi is hideous enough, with his beard less black face, marked by gray streaks ; but the Capou- Agassi "beats himhoUow,",although without the advantage of a single negro feature. His face, covered with un wholesome fat and furrowed with livid folds, his two dead eyes shiniag from out a surface of parchment, and his q2 252 CONSTANTINOPLE. nerveless hanging Up, give him the air of an ill-tempered old woman. But these two monsters are, nevertheless, most impor tant and powerful personages. The revenues of Mecca and Medina are appropriated by them. They are im mensely rich, and make foul or fair weather, at pleasure, iu the seraglio ; although thefr sway is greatly shorn of its proportions, within the last few years. It is, never theless, they who govern, despotically, those throngs of houris whose beauty is never profaned by human gaze ; and they are, as one may suppose, the centre of thousands of intrigues. A platoon of body-guards closed the line of march. This brilliant cortege, although less varied than formerly, — when all the wealth of Asia blazed in the fantastic costumes of the pashas, capidgi-pashas, bostaudgis, maibaindzes, and - janissaries, with their turbans, kalpacks, Circassian casques, antique arquebuses, maces, and bows and arrows — was stiU strikinglj' gorgeous and original. It disappeared, through the archway of the passage leading from the seragUo to Saint-Sophia ; and after the lapse of about an hour, re turned in the same order as it went. Duriug this interval, my companions and I placed ourselves upon a sort of " tribune," forined by the planks which covered a well, situated in an immense court lined with large trees, and iu close proximity to the kiosk, before the gate of which the ceremony of foot- kissing was to be performed. In front of us extended a large building, surmounted by numerous columns, painted yellow and decorated with bases and capitals of white. These columns were chimneys, and the vast range of buUdings kitchens ; for every day, — to use the Oriental phrase, — " fifteen hundi-ed mouths eat the bread of the Grand Seignior." THE BAIRAM. 253 r We found it very difficult to maintain our stand on our perch, against the continual assaults of new " inquisi tlves," whom we were obliged to repulse by punches of the elbow ; but, in the end, we remained masters of the position. While awaiting the retum of the procession, let us glance at the locality where the ceremonial is to be per formed. It is a large kipsk, the roof of which, sup ported by pillars, projects on all sides of the building. These pillars, sculptured at base and summit in the style of the Alhambra, sustain arcades and recesses, formed by the projection of the roof and richly ornaraented with lozenges and arabesques ; the door, flanked by two re cesses, opens amid a mass of carving of flowers and of arabesques, combined with more of profusion than of taste; as is too often the case in Turkish buildings. Upon the wall, on each side the door, are painted two Chinese perspectives, sirailar to those we see in children's toys, and representing galleries, whose pavement, adorned with squares of alternate black and white, seems to ex tend itself into infinity. These absurd decorations must be the work of sorae Genoese glazier, made captive by the corsairs ; and they produce a most extraordinary effect, thus plastered upon what is otherwise a perfect gem of Mussulman architecture and decoration. The Sultan, followed by some of his chief dignitaries, now entered the kiosk, where he partook of a very slight collation. The interval thus created, was employed in the final preparations for the reception. The attendants spread upon the ground, before the kiosk, between the two pillars of the arch which led to the entrance, a carpet or strip of black cachemere, on which they placed a throne ; or more properly a divan, similar in form to a sofa, richly ornamented with carvings of gold 254 CONSTANTINOPLE. or silver-gilt, of Byzantine workmanship. Refore this divan, was placed a footstool of similar style, and the band formed a semi-circle around, with their faces tumed toward the kiosk. When Abdul-Medjid re-appeared, the band executed a succession of flourishes, and the soldiers shouted " Long live the Sultan ! " A genuine enthusiasm pervaded the whole crowd, and every one partook of the excitement, whether Turk or European. The Sultan remained standing for a few minutes, and could be plainly scanned from head to foot. In his fez, a clasp of diamonds secured the plume of heron's feathers, which is the sign of supreme power ; a sort of surtout of dark blue, fastened by a buckle of briUiants, partially con cealed the embroidery of his superb uniform ; and these, with white satin trousers, poUshed-leather boots, and ex quisitely-fitting straw-coloured gloves, formed a dress, which, in its simplicity, outshone the gorgeous costumes of the subordinate personages around. Presently, the Sultau seated himself, and the ceremonial began. I have, already, giveu a hasty description of the person of the Sultan ; but, as the ceremony of the Bafram lasts for at least two hours, I have time to add soraething to that hasty sketch. Abdul-Medjid-Khan was bom on the llth of the month Chaaban, in the year 1238 of the Hegira (23rd April, 1823); and has, therefore, in this present year, (1853), attained the age of thirty years. Ascending the throne — where he succeeded the Sultan Mahmoud — at sixteen years of age, he has already reigned fourteen years. His impassive countenance appears, to me, to wear the air of profound satiety of power; an expression of fixed and intense ennui, always unchangeable, and eternal THE BAIRAM. 255 as the snows of the mountains, seems to form a mask, as it were, of marble, upon his visage, and give sternness and permanence to features by no means regular. His nose has not the aquiline curve belonging to the strictly Turkish type ; his cheeks are pale, marked with Unes in dicative of fatigue, and contrasted with a soft brown beard; and his forehead — iu so far as the fez leaves it visible — seems large and full. His eyes, I can compare to nothing but suns of black, fixed in a sky of diamond. No object seems to reflect itself in them. One would suppose them the eyes of an ecstatic, absorbed by some vision not apparent to the vulgar gaze. For the rest, his physiognomy is not sombre, nor ter rible, nor cruel, but simply extra-human : I can find no better word. One felt, that this young man, seated like a deity upon a golden throne, had nothing more to desfre in the world ; that all the most golden dreams of humanity were, to him, but worn-out and insipid realities ; and that he was gradually freezing out of the reach of the warm sympathies of our nature, in the frigid atmosphere of such utter soUtude. In fact, that, from the height of his grandeur, he looked down upon the earth, as upon only a vague mist, from amid which the heads of the most elevated alone were risible ; and even those beneath his feet! They are only the highest dignitaries of the Mussul man empfre, who have the right to kiss the feet of the glorious Sultan. This surpassing honour is reserved for the Vizier, the Ministers, and a few privileged Pashas. The Vizier started from the angle of the kiosk which was at the right of the Sultan, described a serai-circle within the line forraed by the guards and musicians ;' and, arriving in front of the throne, advanced to the footstool after performing the Oriental salutation; and there, bending 256 CONSTANTINOPLE. over the feet of his master, kissed his boot, as reverentiaUy as a fervent Catholic could kiss "the toe of the Pope. This done, he retired backward, and gave place to an Dther. Theu followed the same salutation, the same genu flexion, the same prostration, and the sarae manner of ap proaching and retfring ; performed by seven or eight of the foreraost personages in the erapire. Luring these adorations, the countenance ofthe Sultau remained impassive and expressionless. Ilis fixed dark eyes looked without seeing, like eyes of marble in a statue. No movement ofa muscle, no play of countenance, nothing to induce a belief that he observed what was passing. In fact, the superb Padischa was eridently unable to see across the vast space which separated him from humanity ; the humble worms which crawled in the dust at his feet. And yet his immobUity had in it nothing offensive or over strained. It was the mere aristocratic negligence aud ab straction of " The Grand Seignior," receiving the homage which was his due, -vrithout giving himself a thought on the subject ; the drowsy indifference of the deity fatigued by the adoration of his devotees, themselves too happy, in being permitted to adore him. I could not help remarking, in looking upon the pashas whom the occasion had assembled, the universal corpulence of the persons of high degree in Turkey. They attaiu proportions Uterally monstrous ; and to some of them, the performance of this ceremony was truly laborious. One can hardly conceive anything more grotesque, than the contortions of these unhappy men, compelled, with reverence and solemnity, to stoop to the earth and rise again ; and some of them, whose breadth exceeded their height, narrowly escaped burying thefr noses in the grouud and remaining extended at the feet of thefr master. THE BAIRAM. 257 Beside these prodigious Turks, Lablache would seem slender and smaU ; and this excess of corpulence over takes the Turks at an early age, too. I have encountered, at the Sweet-waters of Europe and Asia, youug sons of pashas, afready encurabered with fat, at the age of ten or twelve years, and certainly weighing two hundred pounds. The horses which carried them were afready bending beneath thefr monstrous weight. By way of contrast, however, it is scarcely less re markable, that aU the inferior officials are made up of nothing but skin and bone ; and thus are presented the extremes — Uteral caricatures — of fat and lean. The dimi-. nution of fat preserves an inverse mathematical propor tion to the elevation of the grade of the indiridual. One would say, that office was distributed according to weight. Next after the Pashas, in this act of homage, came the Sheik-ul-Islam, in his white caftan, and turban of the same colour, crossed in front by a band of gold. The Sheik-ul-Islam is the Mahometan Patriarch ; next to the Sultau in the reUgious scale, and consequently exceedingly powerful and greatly reverenced. When, therefore, after the usual salutation, he was about to kiss the Sultan's foot, as the others had done, Abdul-Medjid broke, for the first time, his calm imperturbabUity, and, raising the Sheik graciously, prevented the actual performance of that homage. The Ulemahs, or prelates of Islamism, theu defiled before the Sultan ; but, iustead of kissing his foot, they were content -vrith touching, -vrith thefr Ups, the hem of his surtout ; not being sufficiently great personages to aspfre to the more distinguished honour. And here, a little incident disturbed the ceremony. A former " Scherif" of Mecca, who had been removed from office for his excess of fsmaticism, approached aud threw 258 CONSTANTINOPLE. himself at the feet of the Sultan; who, however, re pulsed him sharply enough to prevent his performing any act of homage, and dismissed bim with an imperious gesture of refusal. Two taU young men, almost mulat toes in complexion, and seemingly his sons, also essayed to throw themselves at the Sultan's feet, but were no better received; and the whole three were conducted out of the cfrcle. To the Ulemahs, succeeded other officials, civil or mUitary, of less elevated grade, who could not presume to kiss either the boot or the robe; an end of the Sultan's sash, held by a pasha, offered its fi-inge of gold to their hps, at the extremity of the divan. Enough for them, to touch anything that had been in contact -vrith thefr master. They came, one after auother, described the entfre cfrcle, holding one hand to the forehead, aud the other to the heart and, after bending to the earth, touched the scarf, and passed on. The dwarf, standing behind the throne, watched the whole, with the maUcious grimace of an evil-disposed gnome. During aU this time, the band played airs from V Elisir d'A'more and Lucrezia Borgia ; the cannon thundered in the distance, and the pigeons, frightened from the eaves of Sultan-Bajazet, flew, in hurried cu-cles, above the garden of the seraglio. When the last functionary had paid his homage, the Sultau re-entered his kiosk, amid tumul tuous " vivas ;" and we retmued to Pera, to seek that breakfast, of which, by this tune, we stood crueUy in need. THE CHARLEMAGNE. 259 XXI. THE CHARLEMAGNE. FIEES. People had been, for a length of time, talking of the Charlemagne, whose arrival had been long expected, but she came not. She had come to be considered a chimerical ship, a myth, a ship Argo, or a " Flying Dutchman ; " when lo ! one fiue moming, just wheu people had given over thinking about it, there, appeared before the landing- place of Top-Haue, at the entrance of the Golden-Hom, a superb vessel bearing the tri-coloured flag, displaying on her cut-water a bust of the Eraperor, and on her stem, carved in letters of gold, the name Cliarlemagne ! How carae she there ? By what magic did she find herself at once in the middle of the harbour ? Along her sides, frowning with the port-holes of a triple row of cannon, no trace of paddle-boxes for her wheels ; on her deck, uo appearance of a funnel ; and on her yards, saUs furled and clewed ; whUe from her mast streamed a pennant, fluttered by a -wind dfrectly adverse to the course by which she must have come. It was in comprehensible ! So the worthy Moslemah adopted the only sensible solution of the difficulty ; and it became quite understood among the people, that it was a magical ship, manned by Djinns and Afrites. But, said everybody, diplomatic difficulties, raised by 260 CONSTANTINOPLE, Austria and Russia, oppose the entry of the Charlemagne, into the strait where no man-of-war may enter, without a firman. The firman, however, was granted ; and to legitimatise, even more thoroughly, the presence of such a vessel in the waters of the Golden- Horn, the Ambassador of France had arrived on board the Charlemagne ; which smoothed everything. The Charlemagne became (by pre sence of the Ambassador) France; and now, also, could be satisfied the curiosity of the Capitan-Pasha, who was most desirous to see a screw-auxiliary steam-ship. The caiques rowed timidly around this marine colossus, like henings around a whale ; fearing, apparently, some blow from tail or fin ; but at length some, bolder thau the rest, ventured to approach her black and frowning sides, and certain daring visitors climbed over her bulwarks. I was oue of these last. In setting foot on her deck, the fii-st face I encountered was that of my old and dear friend, Giraud, smiling fi-om behind his brown moustache, as I had once before encountered him in Spain ; and I received him with a salaamleck, sufficiently Oriental to show that I was " accUmatised." I then proceeded to pay my respects to the Ambassador, to whom I was slightly known, and who received me vrith great courtesy. Afterward, Giraud presented me to his fr-iends, the officers, and I made the tour of the three decks of the ship ; a promenade always sm-prising, even wheu not new ; for a vessel of war is one of the most prodigious reaUsations of humau power. Twelve or thirteen hundred men, swarming, eating, sleeping, man- oe-vring, without tho least confusion, in a space crowded -vrith eighty gigantic cannon, an engine as large as a house of two storeys, a powder magazine, a eoal store-room, a kitchen, and provisions for all these men for many months! It is, at once, a town, a fortress, and a locomotive ! THE CHARLEMAGNE. 261 The Dutch housewives, who think themselves such patterns of cleanliness, are but sluts beside the seamen, whom no one can approach in the arts of sweeping, washing, holy-stoning, polishing, and giving lustre to every object. Not a stain on the planks, not a spot of rust, or of tarnish, ou the frons or the brasses ; all shines, all glows. The mahogany of an EngUsh tea-table, is less bright and clean than the deck of a man-of-war. To adopt an expressive popular phrase, — "You may eat your soup off it ; " and among aU these ropes, of which every one has its name, and which cross and interlace like the threads of a spider's web, no single Icnot or entanglement ; not an error, uot the slenderest halyard out of place ; they all run and gUde through their puUeys, and are made fast at the proper points, with au order and exactitude, as admirable as wonderful ! I returned to land, where the Charlemagne was stiU the one subject of discussion. Her screw entfr-ely sub merged, her funnel sinking iuto itself Uke an opera-glass, and learing her aU the appearance of a sailing ship ; so that it was not until subsequently, when she made an excursion to Therapia, that the astonished caidjis in credulously recognised her as a steamer, on seeing the smoke issue from the chimney which rose through her deck as by enchantment, and witnessing the foam and sweU, which made thefr fragUe vessels roll and toss in her wake. The next day, the Arabassador landed with due official ceremony, and was received by the French residents ; aU of whom, forgetting poUtical differences, remembered, at such a moment, only the dear brotherhood of home, and thought only of the Alma Mater, — the common mother. The arrival of the Charlemagne had caused a con siderable popular effervescence among the Turks, and 262 CONSTANTINOPLE. there was some apprehension of insult or riolence to our cortege ; but the Uttle caravan reached, safely and un molested, the palace of the embassy, despite the looks askance of the old fanatics who regretted the times of the Janissaries ; aud could not aUow a Frank to pass, without growling at him, through their teeth, the traditionary insult, of " Dog of a Christian ! " The presence of the Charlemagne at Constantinople, coincided remarkably -vrith the occurrence of an unparal leled number oi fires ; uot less thau fourteen, occurred in one week ; and most of them very serious. To what were they attributable? To the extreme dryness of the weather, which transformed these houses of planks and plaster almost into tinder, ready to ignite with the least spark ? Or, to the witchcraft and fii-e-scattering of this mysterious steamer, -vrithout wheel and vrithout chimney, to which the populace attributed the whole evil ? Or, to the corporations of carpenters, anxious for work ? Or, finaUy, to a poUtical cause, and the act of deUberate incendiaries ; as was beUeved by those best able to judge ? At the close of the Ramadan, which, by its fasts and its devotional exercises, tends to excite the imagination greatly, there is very often manifested an effervescence of fanaticism ; and this fermentation of spfrits was not favourable to Redschid Pasha, then ininister, accused of a leaning toward European ideas, and regarded as almost a Giaour by the old Turks in green caftans and large turbans, to whom all the "reformed" ideas are horrible and impious. Although there is a French newspaper, very ably conducted, at Constantinople, yct, as this journal is assisted by the government, the opposition, instead of disputing its articles, set fire to a street; a significant FIRES. 263 mamier of testifying thefr discontent, certainly. At least, it is said that this is the case ; and it certainly was a re cognised means of expressing dissatisfaction on the part of the Janissaries, whose fall these worthies deplore. Others, again, see, in these fires, which break out in one quarter of the city as soon as quenched in another, the torch, or at least the " lucifer-match," of Russia, en deavouring to prejudice the people against France ; but the courage -vrith which the crew of, the Charlemagne, led by M. Rigaud de GenouUly, dashed into the midst of aU these fires, mounting, axe in hand, upon the buming houses, and disputing with the flames for thefr victims, went far to secure for us the general good opinion. Redschid Pasha was also superseded by Fuad Effendi ; which, although the latter is a foUower of his poUcy, was regarded as a concession ; and directly afterward the fires ceased; perhaps naturally, perhaps from that cause. With a town buUt ahnost eutirely of wood, and the indirect co-operation of the negUgence produced by Turkish fatalism, " fires " may, perhaps, be considered as constituting the normal condition at Constantinople. A house sixty years old is a rarity. Except the mosques, aqueducts, walls, and fountains, together with a few (Jreek houses in Phanaris, and some Genoese buildings at Galate, aU is wood. Past ages have left no -vritness on the soU, perpetuaUy swept by flame. The face of the town renews itseK every half-century, although, perhaps, -vrith out much change. I do not speak of Pera, that Mar seilles of the Orient, where, in place of every shanty bumed down, there rises a mansion of stone, and which wiU soon be a town altogether European in character. On the summit of the Seraskier's Tower — a white tower of prodigious height, rising against the sky, not far from the domes and minarets of Sultan-Bajazet, — stands 264 CONSTANTINOPLE. perpetually, a watchman, whose duty it is to look narrovyly, whether, in any quarter of the horizon of the immense panorama that lies unrolled at his feet, any gush of dark smoke, any red jet of flame, bursts through the in terstices of a roof. Wheu the watchman perceives the outbreak of a fire, he hangs out, from the summit of his tower, a basket if by day, or a lantern by night, to indicate the quarter of the towu in which it is situated ; the cannon thunders out the alarm, and through the awakened streets rings, in sinister tones, the lugubrious cry of Stamboul hiangin var ! Every one is aroused, and the water-car riers, who are also the firemen, rush at racing speed in the dfrection indicated by the signal. A similar watch is constantly maintaiued on the sum mit of the Tower of Galata, which is almost directly opposite to the Seraskier's Tower, ou the other side of the Golden-Hom. The Sultan, the Viziers, and the Pashas, are bound to be present, in person, at all fires of importance. If the Sultan has even retired into the recesses of his harem, and a fire breaks out, his sanctuary is not safe from in trusion. An odalisque, clad iu scarlet, and -wearing a tm-ban of the same colour, penetrates to the chamber, raises the tapestry which covers the doorwaj', aud stands before him, silent and sinister. The appearance of this flame-coloured phantom, announces to the Sultau that there is a fire in Constantinople, and summons him to do his duty as a sovereign. • I was sitting one day upon a tomb, in the lesser ' How far this popular belief is literally true, is diflicult to ascertain ; but it is certain that such ts the popular belief, and that the Sultan and his chief officers of state are always present at great fires. " An hour" is understood to he the limit, beyond which, if a fire continues, the Sultan ia bound to attend. — Teaks. FIRES. 265 cemetery of Pera, when I observed, rising above the cypresses, a wreath of blue smoke, which speedily became yeUow, and then black, and was presently streaked with jets of flame ; the latter scarcely risible, however, in the brilUant sunUght. I sprang up and sought an open spot, whence I saw, in au instant, that the quarter caUed " BLassim-Pasha " was in flames. This Kassim-Pasha is a miserable region, peopled by v^etches equally miserable, — Jews and Armenians, — and shut in between the arsenal and the cemetery. I descended the principal street, coraposed of shanties, hovels, and bnUdings in the last stages of dUapidation, and the centre of which is occupied by a gutter or open sewer, crossed at frequent intervals by culverts. The fire was afready buming furiously, in the iramediate vicinity of a mosque, whose minaret (looking more than usuaUy like a tall candle surmounted by a tin extinguisher) I expected, every moment, to see melting in the flames ; but a sudden change of wind drove them in another dfrection, and threatened a quarter which had before seemed safe. The street was crowded by negresses carrying mattresses ; porters laden with chests ; men saving their pipe-stems ; fiightened-lookfrig women, with a chUd iu one hand and a bundle of clothing in the other ; soldiers and cawas armed -vrith long hooks ; saccas rushing through the crowd, canying thefr pumps on thefr shoulders, and mounted meu gaUoping along vrithout the least regard for the foot-passengers. Every one elbo-wing, pushing, and hustUng, with an accompaniment of shouts and impreca tions, in every conceivable dialect of almost every con ceivable language. The tumult was at its height. During aU this time, the fire was spreading, and en- 266 CONSTANTINOPLE. larging the cfrcle of its ravages. Fearing to be trodden under foot in this increasing and maddened crowd, I re gained the height of Pera ; and, seating myself again upon a funeral column, I sat, in company with Turks, Gi-eeks, and Franks, watching the fearful spectacle which unrolled itself at foot of the hUl. The buming rays of noonday feU perpendicularly upon the bro-wn-tUed roofs, or wooden sheds, of Kassim- Pasha, the houses of which Ughted iu succession, like the fiisees of a set of fireworks. Now you would see a Uttle wreath of white sraoke issuing from some crerice, then a little tongue of scarlet intermingled with the white smoke, then the whole roof became clouded, the windows began to gleam with red ; presently the flames burst forth in every dfrection, and, in an inconceivably small nmnber of minutes, the house was in ashes ! Against a back-ground of flames, on the walls and summits of the burning houses, stood out, in black profile, the figures of the men who threw water upon the neigh bouring waUs, to prevent their also igniting ; all attempts to quench such inflammable materials, when once freely in flames, being hopeless ; while others, with axes and hooks, threw down masses of building, to restrain the flre within certain limits, for sheer lack of food to prey upon. The saccas, standing upon transverse beams, directed the ho.e of their pumps against the flames; and, from a distance, these pumps, with thefr long coils of flexible leather pipe and spouts of bright metal, had the afr of angry serpents combating some gigantic fiery dragon, who was vomiting forth sparks and flame, to repel his antagonists; while the latter retumed to the attaek, hissing and furious, wielding a watery lance which sparkled like diamonds in the surrounding glow. After often abating and rekindling, the fire died out FIRES. 267 for lack of " pasturage ; " and there remained only the smoke which slowly rose from among blackened heaps of ashes and cinders. The next day, I visited the scene of the disaster. Two or three hundred houses had been burned ; and this was a small matter, if one considers the extreme inflammabUity of the materials, of which the whole region was built. The mosque, protected by its walls and arches of stone, rested intact. Upon the spot where the wooden buildings had stood, remained only the brick chimneys, which had re sisted the flames. They_ had a strange effect, these red obeUsks, alone standing, in memory of the buildings which had suiTounded them the day before. They looked some what like gigantic skittles, planted there to be bowled at by Typhon or Briareus. Amid the yet hot and smoking ruins of the houses, the former proprietors had already constructed some sort of habitation, by means of rush mats, old carpets, and pieces of caUco or canvas, supported by stakes ; and were smoking thefr pipes, with all the resignation of Oriental fatalism. Horses were fastened to stakes, in the place where thefr stable had once stood; fragments of old partitions, and bits of plank nailed together, reconstituted the harem ; a cawadji was making coffee, over the furnace, which alone remained of his shop ; upon the ancient site of which, sat cross-legged, in the ashes, his faithful customers. Fai-ther on, some bakers were digging out, with wooden shovels, heaps of grain, of whieh the flame had scorched only the upper portion ; poor devUs were seeking, amid the half- extinguished cinders, nails and bits of fron, — the remains of thefr fortunes, — but without haring any aspect of special despondency. I did not see, at Kassim-Pasha, those groups, lost, wailing, and utterly in despafr, which a similar calamity would collect, ia France, among the E 2 268 CONSTANTINOPLE. ruins of a village or a district destroyed by fire. In fact, it seems, that to be burned-out, is, at Constantinoplp, rather a matter of course. I followed to the Golden-Hom, and near the arsenal, the pathway traced by the fire. The heat was terrific, and augmented by a burning sun. I walked upon hot coals, ill-covered by treacherous and cmmbling cinders ; among ruins half consumed, planks, beams, fragments of divans and counters ; now over spots of gray, now of black, through stifling sraoke, and reflections of sunUght hot enough to cook an egg. Then I passed through a street somewhat picturesque, along which ran a gutter, choked with old shoes and fragments of crockery, and offering, with its two tottering bridges, a subject for an artist ; and was, at length, more glad than I cared to ac knowledge, to find myself on firm earth, and safe from the volcanic soil, which for the previous three hours I had been treading at no smaU risk. I had seen a fire by day ; it remained to see one by , night, and I was not destined to wait long. One evening, a purple light, not dissimilar to that caused by the aurora-boreaUs, tinged the heavens on the other side of the Golden-Horn. I was taking an ice in the Little Field, and descended instantly to Top-Hane, to secure a caique for a passage to the scene of the dis aster ; when, in passing near the tower of Galata, one of my Constantinople friends, who accompanied me, sug gested the idea of ascending the tower, to wituess from its summit the scene on the opposite side of the water. A Uberal baschivh removed the scruples of the keeper ; and we began to climb in the darkness, trying each step before we ventured upon it, following the wall with our hands, and ascending a steep spiral staircase, interrupted at frequent in tervals by barriers and doors. At length we reached the FIRES. 269 lantern ; and, walking upon the plates of brass which cover its floor, we fixed ourselves, at last, on the ledge of the masonry with which the suramit of the tower is crowned. It was the storehouses of oil nnd tnllow which were on fire. These buildings are situated on the verge of the water, which, in reflecting the flames, produced the appear ance of a double fire. Long lines of light, rippled by the oscillation of the water, extended over the Golden-Horn, making it resemble a vast bowl of flaming punch. The fire rose to a tremendous height, — red, blue, yellow, or green, according to the material burning at the moment. At intervals, a more intense phosphorescence, a light more incandescent, sparkled amid the general glow. MiUions of buming flakes soared in the afr, like the gold and silver rain of a rocket ; and, despite the distance, we could hear plainly the crackUng of the flames. Over the fire, writhed and heaved enormous masses of smoke, dark on the one side, and glowing -vrith every varied shade of red upon the other, like clouds at sunset. The Seras kier's Tower, Yeni-Djami, the Suleimanieh, the mosque of Achmet, and above, upon the crest of the hUl, the arches of the ancient aqueduct, shone with rosy Ught. The shipping in the harbour loomed in clear black outline, against the fiery back-ground. Two or three smaU vessels, nearest to the scene of destruction, took fire, and for the moment a general conflagration among the shipping seemed imminent ; but the danger M'as soon overcome. Despite the cold wind, which chilled us at that eleva tion, — for we were very lightly clad, my Companion and myself, — we could not withdraw from the contemplation of this spectacle of disastrous magnificence ; which, by its splendour, made us understand, and half-excuse, Nero enjoying the sight of burning Rome, from the Palatine Tower. 270 CONSTANTINOPLE. It was indeed a splendid illumination. Fire-works of a hundred times multiplied power, with effects that pyro technic art cannot hope to imitate ; and as we had not the remorse of having caused it, nor any power to check its ravages, we could at least enjoy the scene as artists, while not the less deploring so grave a calaraity. Two or three days afterwards, Pera took fire in its tum. The tekke of the Dancing Derrishes was speedUy invaded by the flames ; and there I witnessed a striking specimen of Oriental immobiUty. The chief of the der rishes sat on his carpet, smoking his pipe, and moring from time to time, as the fire intruded upou his resting- place ! The little bit of cemetery, which extends in front of the tekke, was rapidly heaped -vrith aU manner of articles, utensils, merchandise, and moveables, from the endangered or buming houses ; and which, especiaUy the more fragUe of them, were often precipitated from the -vrindows to save time. The most grotesque heaps were scattered upou the tombs, in a peU-meU as frightful as it was absurd. The population of the quarter — mostly Chris tian — displayed none of the resignation, which I had observed in the Turks under similar cfrcumstances. The women howled or wept, seated among the wreck of thefr goods. Vociferations blended from all quarters ; the disorder and tumult were fearful. At length, when the conflagra tion began to abate, and its extent could be seen, it appeared that, from the tekke to the foot of the hiU, there remained only chimneys standing. In the most serious disasters, there are, almost always, some burlesque incidents ; and it was so here. I saw a man literaUy risk his life to save some bits of stove-pipe ; and innumerable instances of persons, in their be-vyilder- FIRES. 271 ment, clinging to things utterly valueless, and rejecting, or unconsciously destroying, what they would have -vrished to save. A pictm-esque effect was produced by the cypresses iu the garden of the tekke, which, drying-up before the flames, and tuming yellow, then took fire, and blazed from all thefr limbs, like huge, many-branched candelabra. Only two or three nights afterwards, Pera was Ulu minated at the other side, near the Great Cemetery. Some twenty wooden-houses bumed Uke matches, sending flame and sparks far up into the blue of the night, despite the floods of water with which they were inundated. The great street of Pera presented a most sinister aspect ; companies of saccas, pump on shoulder, dashed along, oversetting everything in thefr passage, as it is thefr priri lege to do (and a privilege in the exercise of which they seem to flnd a maUcious satisfaction) ; mushires on horse back, foUowed by a crowd of vagabonds, rattled through the street, to the great risk of aU foot-passengers ; the dogs, alarmed by the noise, the Ught, and the crowd, for once shrank from the highway, and gathering in by-places, or flying in packs, uttered the most prolonged and dismal howls; men and women passed along bending beneath huge burdens ; grooms endeavoured to lead and pacify horses, haK-mad vrith excitement and aflright : — the whole -was, at once, terrible and magnificent. Fortunately, the intervention of some lofty houses of stone prevented the further spread of the conflagration, and it bumed itself out. In the same week, Psammathia, a Greek quarter of Constentinople, became, also, a prey to the flames. Two thousand five hundred houses were burned ! Afterward, Scutari took fire in its turn ! At each moment the sky glowed with red, iu one 272 CONSTANTINOPLE, quarter or another, and the watchmen, ou the Seraskier's Tower and the Tower of Galate, were weary vrith the repetition of their fearful signal. It seemed as. if the demon of conflagration waved his , torch over the city, and had doomed it to utter destruction ! At length, however, aU was extinguished — the fires ceased, and the recent disasters were speedUy forgotten ; -vrith that happy carelessness of past misfortune, -vrithout which the life of humanity would be a burthen beyond endurance. The coincidence with the arrival of the Charlemagne, was, however, not the less remarkable ; nor vpiU the various surmises, arising from that coincidence, cease to afford anxious food for speculation, and for inquiry into the causes — poUtical, social, international, or accidental — which occasioned so many, and such disastrous fires, at that precise period. ,' rs^ic?£lL..-'-_il^S ¦ ' SAINT-SOPHIA. 273 XXII. SAINT-SOPHIA. THE MOSQUES. It would be dangerous for a Giaour to penetrate to the in terior of the mosques during the Ramadan, even -vrith a firman and attended by cawas. The exhortations of the Tmans excite, among the faithful, a double amount of fervour and fanaticism ; and the action of the fast heats the brain, imtil the habitual tolerance, produced by the progress of ci-vilisation, is easUy forgotten. I awaited, therefore, untU after the Bafram, before making this essential part of my tour of observation. It is usual to commence the series -vrith Saint-Sophia, the most ancient and most important buUding of Constanti nople, which, before being a mosque, had been a Christian church; not dedicated, however, as ite name might suggest, to a particular saint, but to the Divine Wisdom, " Agia- Sophia," personified by the Greeks, and, according to thefr teaching, mother of the three theological -virtues. After having once seen, from the space which extends in front of the Augustan Gate, the back — enriched vrith deUcate carvings and inscriptions — of the fountein of Achmet III., Saint-Sophia presents but an Ul-assorted mass df misshapen constructions. The original plan has disappeared, beneath an aggregation of excrescences and additions, which have obUterated the primitive out Unes, and rendered it almost impossible to retrace them. 274 CONSTANTINOPLE. Between the buttresses erected by Amurath III., to support the walls, shaken by repeated earthquakes, are crowded tombs, shops, baths and staUs. Above this miscellaneous gathering, rises, amid four heavy minarete, the great cupola, supported upon the walls by courses of masonry, altemately white and pink, and encircled, as by a tiara, with a range of latticed windows. The minarets have not the graceful slenderness of the Arabic style, and the cupolas rest hearily upon the unadorned stone-work ; and the traveUer, whose imagina tion has been stimulated by the magical name of " Saint- Sophia " (reminding him of the temples of Ephesus and of Solomon), experiences a disappointment, which, fortun ately, does not continue, after he has once reached the interior of the edifice. To reach the entrance ofthe mosque, the visitor foUows a uarrow street, lined with sycamores, and -vrith turbos whose gilded and painted stone-work gleams vaguely through their gratings ; and he arrives, after a few diver gences, in front of a gate of bronze, one leaf of which stiU retains the imprint of the Greek cross. This is a side entrance, which gives access to a vestibule pierced -vrith nine doors. At this poiut, the visitor exchanges his boots or shoes for sUppers, which it is important to have brought by the dragoman ; because to enter the mosque in boots, would be as palpable an irreverence as to keep one's hat on, in a Catholic church ; and might, moreover, enteU results by no means agreeable to the offender. At the first step within, I was struck with amazement. I seemed to be at Venice, and entering from the Piazza, beneath the nave of Saint-Mark ; only that the dimensions had enlarged immeasurably, and assumed colossal pro portions. The columns rose gigantic, from the mat- covered pavement ; the dome of the cupola hung overhead, like SAINT-SOPHIA. 275 the arch of the sky ; the gaUeries, fri which the four sacred streams pour forth thefr waters in mosaic, described immeasurable cfrcuits; the tribunes seemed destined tO contain whole nations! Saiut-Mark, in fact, is but a min iature of Saint-Sophia ; reduced, on the scale of an inch to a foot, from the basiUca of Justinian. Nor is there anything surprising in this ; for Venice, separated by only a narrow sea from Greece, Uved always in famiUarity -vrith the Orient ; and her architects would naturaUy seek to reproduce the type of that church, which was then con sidered the richest and the most beautiful of aU Chris- tendon. I'he erection of Saint-Mark was commenced about the tenth century ; and its architects would have been able to see Saint-Sophia, in all its integrity and splendour, before it had been profaned by Mahomet II. ; an event which did not take place until a. d. 1453. The existing Saint-Sophia was erected upon the ashes of the temple consecrated to " The Wisdom Divine," by Constentine the Great, which had been bumed during the tumults of the contest between the "greens" and the " blues," and whose antiquity was founded upon an antiquity even more remote. Anthemius of TraUes and Isidore of Miletus, in tracing ite foundations, dfrected ite reconstruction. To enrich the new church, the ancient pagan temples were despoiled ; and the dome of Christ's Church was supported by the columns of the temple of " Diana of the Ephesians," still black from the torch of Erostratus, and the pillars of the "Temple of the Sun" at Palmyra, stUl gilded with the emblem of their original worship. From the ruins of Pergamus, were taken two enormous urns of porphyry, whose " lustral waters " gave place to the consecrated water of Christian baptism, and, later still, of Mahometan ablution. The waUs were adorned -vrith 276 CONSTANTINOPLE. mosaics of gold and gems ; and when the work was com pleted, Justinian might well exclaim, in delighted admi ration, " Glory be to God, who has esteemed me worthy to achieve a work so sublime ! Oh, Solomon ! I have sur passed thee ! " Although Islamism, in its hostility to the pictorial and plastic arts, has despoiled Saint-Sophia of the greater part of its noblest omaments, it is stiU a magnificent edifice. The mosaics, upon a ground of gold, representing Scrip tural subjects, Uke those of Saint-Mark, have disappeared beneath a coating of lime. They have preserved the four gigantic cherubim of the galleries ; the six wings of each shine through the scintillations of masses of gilded crystal ; but the heads of these masses of gorgeous plumage are hidden behind "enormous golden suns ; the representation of the humau face being the especial horror of the Mos lemah. At the end of the sanctuary, beneath the oven like arch which forms its termination, are vaguely traceable the outlines of a colossal figure, which the deposit of the Ume has not altogether obliterated : this was the image of the patron of the church, — an embodiment of the Dirine Wisdom in an individual form, the Agia-Sophia ; and which, beneath this half-transparent veil, stUl presides over the ceremonies of a hostUe faith. The statues have been removed. The altar, made of an unknown metal, — the result, like the Corinthian brass, of a combination of gold, silver, bronze, fron, and precious stones, in a state of fusion, — is replaced by a slab of red marble, indicating the direction of Mecca. Above, hangs an old and worn carpet, a mere dirty rag, which possesses, for the Turks, the unspeakable merit, of being one of the four carpets on which Mahomet himself knelt to perform his devotions.Immense green disks, given by different Sultans, are SAINT-BOPHIA. 277 attached to the walls, and inscribed with verses from the Koran, or pious maxims, -written in enormous golden letters. A scroU of porphyry, bears the names of AUah, of Mahomet, and of the first four Kalifs : Abu-Bekir, Omar, Osman, and Ali. The pulpit (nimbar), where the khatib stands to read the Koran, is placed against one of the pillars, and is reached by a steep staircase, decorated with two balusfrades of open carving, of a delicacy un surpassed by that of the finest lace. The reader always ascends with the Book of the Law in one hand and a drawn sabre in the other, as in a conquered mosque. Cords, from which are suspended tufts of sUk, and ostrich eggs, hang frora the dome to withiu ten or twelve feet of the floor, sustaining circles of iron wire, deco rated with lamps to form a chandelier. Desks in the form of an X, similar to those which we use to support portfoUos of engravings — in fact, a sort of tressels — are dispersed about the mosque, to support manuscripts of the Koran. Many are omamented with enamel, or deU cate inlayings of brass, or mother-of-pearl. Mats of rushes in the summer, and carpets in the winter, cover the pavement, formed of slabs of raarble, the veins of which are skilfully arranged, to give the appear ance of three streams, congealed, as they flow in wa-vy undulations through the edifice. The mats also present a singular peculiarity ; they are placed obliquely, and con trary to the Unes of the architecture ; like the planks of a floor, placed diagonally, instead of paraUel, to the waUs which enclose them. But this strange pecuUarity is soon explained. Saint-Sophia was not originaUy designed for a mosque, and consequently does not stand in the proper direction, relatively to Mecca. Many of the mosques, much resemble, intei-naUy, Pro testant churches, or rather " chapels." Art is not there 278 CONSTANTINOPLE. allowed to display its elegancies. Pious inscriptions, a pulpit, reading desks, mats to cover the floors ; and you have all the " ornament " that is permitted. The one idea of Deity should fill His temple, and is sufficiently vast to do so unassisted. I admit, however, that the artistic elegance of the Catholic and Episcopal churches, seems to me preferable ; and the alleged danger of idolatry, is to be feared only among a barbarous and ignorant people, incapable of distinguishing the form from the spirit — the image from the idea. There is also, certainly, an express indication of reverence and adoration, in the mere fact of thus enriching our teraples ; and, if it be esteemed becoming to adorn the halls in which we do honour to earthly potentates, how much more, the palaces which we dedi cate to the King of Kings ! The chief cupola of Saint-Sophia, a little broken in ite curve, is surrounded by several half-domes, like those of Saint-Mark. It is of immense height, and must have shone like a sun of gold aud mosaic, before the Moslem coating of lime extinguished its splendours. But, such as it was, it produced upon me an impression eveu more StartUng than the dome of Saint-Peter. The Byzantine architecture is certainly the stj'le necessary for Catho licism. Even Gothic architecture, whatever its religious value, is not so perfectly adapted to this object. Despite its deteriorations of aU sorts, Saint-Sophia stUl stands above all other Christian churches that I have seen ; aud I have seen many. Nothing can equal the majesty of its domes; the tribunes resting against its columns of jasper, of porphyry, and of verd-antique, -vrith their strange Co rinthian capitals ; or the animals, the chiraeras, and the crosses, enlaced among its sculptured foliage. The superb iu:t of Greece, although degenerate, still makes itself felt; SAINT- SOPHIA. 27 and one can understand that when Christ enters the temple, Jupiter must go forth. Some years since, Saint-Sophia was menaced with de struction. The waUs began to bulge, fissures to appear in the domes, and the pavement to undulate; and the columns, fatigued, perhaps, with standing so long up right, leaned in aU dfrections, Uke drunken men. Nothing was in line ; the whole building leaned visibly on one side; and, despite the buttresses erected by Amurath, the church- mosque, worn by the lapse of centuries and shaken by repeated earthquakes, appeared tottering to ite fall. An exceedingly capable Tessinese architect, however, (Signor Fossati), undertook the difficult task of rescuing this noble monument of antiquity from ruin ; which he effected by under- pinning, portion by portion, with inde fatigable caution and activity. Bands of brass were thrown about the riven pillars ; supporters of iron propped the sinking arches ; massive ground- works sustained the trembUng waUs ; the crevices were filled up ; the crum bUng stones replaced by those of fresher and stronger quality ; masses of masonry, whose purpose was skilfully disguised under the garb of ornaraent, were made to bear the enorraous weight of the cupola ; and, at length, thanks to this elaborate and skilful restoration, Saint-Sophia eould still promise iteelf many centuries of existence. During the progress of the works, Signor Fossati had the curiosity to exhume many of the primitive mosaics, from the bed of Ume in which they were buried ; and, before covering them again, he caused them to be care fully copied ; a proceeding, the fruits of which, it is to be hoped, may be one day given to the world. These mosaics are those of the cupola and the demi- domes. The others, which decorate the lower walls, may be regarded as destroyed. The mollahs remove, almost 280 CONSTANTINOPLE. daily, with their knives, cubes of crystal, covered with gold leaf, and sell them to strangers. I myself possess some half-dozen of these, detached in my presence ; for, although I am not one of those tourists who break off the noses of statues, as a souvenir of the monuments they have visited, I could not disappoint the hope of a gratuity which inspired the worthy Moslem who offered me these memorials. From the height of the tribunes (which are reached by gentle winding slopes, as in the Giralda or the Campa nula), an admirable view of the mosque is obtained. At this moment, some faithful believers, kneeling upon the matting, are devoutly performing thefr prostrations ; two or three females, wrapped in their feredg6s, stand near one of the doors, and a porter, with his head supported on the base of a pillar, is sleeping with all his might. A soft and tender light falls frora the elevated windows ; and I can see, iu the distant recess, opposite the pulpit, the sparkle of the golden gratings of the tribune reserved for the Sultan. A species of platform, supported by colurans of finest marble and ornamented with carved railings, rises at each point of intersection of the aisles. In the side-chapels (useless in the Mussulman ritual), are heaped trunks, boxes, and packages of all kinds ; for, in the East, the mosques serve as store-houses, and those who are going away on a journey, or who fear being robbed at home, deposit thefr wealth under the immediate protection of Allah ; and there has never been an instence of the loss of a farthing under such circumstances, for theft would need to combine itself with sacrilege. Heaps of dust accumulate upon masses of gold, or of precious objeets, scarcely covered with wrappers of coarse cloth, or old leather ; and the spider, so cherished among the Turks, for having SAINT-SOPHIA. • 281 thrown his web across the mouth of the cave in which the Prophet was concealed, weaves his thread peacefuUy about the locks, which no one takes the trouble to use. Around the mosque are grouped hospitals, colleges, baths, and kitchens for the poor ; for the whole of Moslem life gathers around the house of God. People without home sleep beneath the arches, where no police disturb them, for they are the gueste of Allah. The faithful pray there ; the females go there to dream away their time ; and the sick are transported thither, to be cured or to die. In the East, the present life is never separated from reli gion and the thought of the future. I sought in vain, in Saint-Sophia, for the imprint of the bloody hand, which Mahomet IL, dashing, on horse back, into the sanctuary, imprinted upon the wall, in sign of taking possession as conqueror, while the woraen and maidens were crowded round the altar as a last refuge from the besieging army, and expecting rescue by a miracle, which did not occur. This bloody imprint of the conqueror's hand — is it an historical fact, or only an idle legend? While writing the word " legend," I recall a remark able one, which is current at Constantinople, and to which the evente of the day give a peculiar interest. When the gates of Saint-Sophia gave way, beneath the pressure of the barbarian hordes who stormed the city of Constentine, a priest was before the altar, performing mass. At the noise made upon the pavement of Justi nian by the hoofs of the Tarter horses, the shoute of the soldiers, and the terrific cries of the Moslems, the priest paused in his sacred office, took with him the sacramental vases, and retfred towards one of the side isles, with a calm and deUberate step. The soldiers brandished thefr swords, as if to slaughter the priest, when he suddenly disap peared, through a wall which opened to receive him ; 282 CONSTANTINOPLE. by means, as one would suppose, of a secret door; but no, the waU was firm, compact, impenetrable. The priest had passed through a mass of solid masonry. Sometimes are heard, even now (it is said), faint notes of psalmody, through the thickness of the wall. It is the saintly father, still, living, who repeats, in his miraculous sleep, portions of his interrupted liturgy. When Saint- Sophia shall be again restored to Christian worship, the wall will once more open of itself, and the priest, issuing from his long retreat, will retum, to finish, at the altar, the mass commenced four hundred years before. If, according to invariable rule in these legendary pre dictions, we allow the additional " one year," which com pletes the mystic period (as does the " one day," in the term of " a year and a day," so well knowm in all magical tales) ; and assume that four hundred and one j'ears com plete the tele ofthe predicted tirae, the 29th of May, in this present year (1854), will be the day on which the sleeping priest should again cross the nave of Saint-Sophia, and mount, with phantom-fread, the steps of the alter of Justi nian, to consummate his mutilated rites. It is strange, at least, that the events of this epoch, should have rendered a Christian re-occupation of Saint-Sophia within the pre scribed period (at one moment), no very remote possi bility; but whether it is still to be accomplished, is another question, under the present aspecte.i On issuing from Saint-Sophia, I visited several other mosques. That of Sultan-Achmet, situated near the Atmeidan, is one of the most reraarkable. -It presents the pecu- 1 Perhaps the opinion of the Anglo-French allied forces, might, now, have some weight in furnishing a reply to this question. — Tk.ins. THE MoSQUEg. 283 liarity of having six minarete, which has given it the designation, in Turkish, of " Alti-Minareli-Djami ; " and I mention this, because it gave occasion, during the erection of the edifice, to a fierce debate between the Sulten and the Iman of Mecca. The Iman declared that the Sultan was about to commit an act of sacrileo-e ; for that no other mosque should presume to rival in splendour the most holy Kaaha of Mecca, flanked by just that number of minarets. The works were suspended, and the mosque was in danger of never being finished, when the Sulten, being a man of inteUigence, discovered an in genious subterfuge to close the mouth of the fanatical Iman : he caused a seventh rainaret to be added to the Kaaba, and then proceeded to the completion of his own magnificent work, in accordance with its original design. This mosque cost a fabulous sum for its construction, and it has even been reckoned that each drachm- weight of stone in the building had cost three aspres ! What ever the precise totel, it must have been very great. Ite lofty dome rises majesticaUy in the midst of several lesser ones, and surrounded by six superb minarets, each en- cfrcled by ite graceful gallery as by a bracelet. It is faced by a court, surrounded by columns, with capitals of white and black, and haviug bases of bronze, sup porting arches which form a quadruple range of cloisters to the portico ; if one may apply the word " cloister " to a mosque. In the midst of this court, rises a richly-orna mented fountain, covered with a sort of cage of gilded trellis-work, doubtless to protect the purity of the water destined for religious ablutions. The stj-le of all the architecture is noble and pure, and recalls the grandest epoch of Arabian art ; although the actual date of the structure goes back no farther than the beginning of the seventeenth century. A door of 8 2 284 CONSTANTINOPLE. bronze, reached by three steps, gives access to the interior of the mosque. The beholder is most impressed, at first sight, by the four colossal columns, or rather the four fluted towers, which support the massive weight of the principal dorae. These jiillars, with capitals carved in stalactite, are encircled, at mid-height, by a plain band, covered with inscriptions in Turkish letters. They have a ch.aracter, altogether, of wonderfiil majesty, endurance, and power. Verses of the Koran encircle, also, the cupolas and domes, and run along the comices ; a species of orna^ ment, imitated from the Alhambra, and to which the Arabic writing lends iteelf charmingly, with its characters of veritable " arabesque," resembling those designs of surpassing richness, which are seen upon the genuine shawls of cachemere. Key-stones, alternately black and white, adom the summits of the arches ; the mirahb, which indicates the direction of Mecca and contains the sacred book, is en crusted with lapis-lazuli, agate, and jasper ; and it is said to contain also a fragraent of the blaek stone of the Kaaba ; a relic as precious for a Mussulman, as a frag ment of the "True Cross" for a Catholic. Itis in this mosque, also, that is preserved the Standard of the Pror phet ; which, like the Oriflamme of the ancient French monarchy, is never displayed, except upon occasions of the most supreme solemnity. Mahmoud caused it to be disr played, wheu, surrounded by the Imans, he announced to the prostrate raultitude the decree of extermination against the janissaries. , A pulpit, surmounted by its conical sounding-board — the mustaches, or platforms raised upon pillars, whence the muezzins call the faithful to prayer — and the chande liers, decorated with globes of crystal and ostrich eggs. THE MOSQUES. 285 complete the decoration, which is of the sarae character in aU the mosques. As in Saint-Sophia, beneath the side arches, are heaped boxes, trunks, and packages, placed there under the Divine protection. Near the mosque is the turbe, or torab, of Achmet him self; the glorious Padischa, who sleeps in his funeral chapel, beneath his coffin, which is covered with the most precious stuffs of India and Persia ; having at his head his turban, with its jewelled aigrette, and at foot two gigantic tapers, Uke the masts of a ship for size. Thirty lesser coffins surround hira, being those of his chUdren and his favourite vrives, who keep him company in death as in life. At the extremity of the turbe, stands a cabinet, gleaming with sabres, kandjars, and other arms, literally blazing with gems. These detailed descriptions of the two most remarkable mosques, allow me to dispense with any description of the mosque of Sultan-Bayezid (Bajazet), which differs in no important particulars from the others ; and those parti culars, such as demand rather the pencil than the pen, for thefr Ulustration. One may remark, in the interior, some beautiful pillars of jasper and porphyry ; and above the cloister which is attached to the mosque, hover per petually clouds of pigeons, as familiarly as those in the Place of Saint-Mark at Venice. A worthy old Turk is always in attendance, beneath the arches, with a sack of grain, of which you buy a smaU measure, and scatter by handfuls upon the ground ; when, in a moment, domes, pUlars, minarets, and cornices, give forth myriads of pigeons, who precipitate themselves at your feet, alraost brushing your face with thefr -vrings ; and you fiifd yourself in the midst of a whfrlwind of plumage. In a a few seconds, not a grain of com reraains upon the pavement, and the feathery cloud rises again to its 286 CONSTANTINOPLE. aerial position. This world of pigeons coraes from a single pafr, which the Sultan Bajazet purchased from a poor old woman who solicited his charity, and gaye to the mosque. They have certeinly multipUed amaz ingly ; but, doubtless, thefr lives are sacred. According to the custom of the founders of mosques, Bajazet has his turbe near to that to which, he has given his name. He sleeps there, covered with a drapery of gol4 and silver, nnd having beneath the head — with an assumption of humility, rather Christian thau Mahometan in character — a brick, made from the dust upon his gar ments and his shoes ; for there is in the Koran, the following verse : " He who is soiled with dust in the paths of Allah, has nothing to fear fi-om the fii-es of heU." We wiU extend no farther this review of mosques ; which, as already remarked, greatly resemble each other, having only slight architectm-al variations. It is well to mention the Suleimanieh; as one of the most perfect in its architecture ; and near wbich stands the tm-b6, where reposes, beside SoUman I., the cele brated Roxalana, beneath a coffin covered with cache- meres. Not far from this mosque, is a sarcophagus of porphyry, said to be that of Constantine. IMrERIAL GATE 01' THE SEIIAGLIO. THE SERAGLIO. 2S7 XXIII. THE SEBAGLIO. When the Sulten is occupying one of his summer palaces, it is permitted to strangers, by means of a firman, to risit the SeragUo : but from this word, do not evoke any dreams of the Paradise of Mahomet. " Seraglio " is, in fact, a generic word, signifying simply "palace" and perfectly distinct from " harem," — the habitation of the women, — with which it is coraraonly confounded, in the European mind. The harem forms certainly a part of the seraglio ; but male strangers are never admitted there, under auy circumstences ; not even in the absence of ite fair inhabitante. To make a risit to the seragUo, it is usual to form a party of some ten or twelve persons ; for the bestowal of numerous, ahd somewhat considerable gratuities, forms a necessary part of the process ; and these amount to a totel of from six pounds to eight pounds, which is neither augmented nor diminished, by any variation in the num bers of the party. A dragoman employed for the " community," precedes the risitors, and arranges aU these matters with the guard ians of the Enchanted Castle. He robs you, of course ; but, as you cannot help yourself, it is as well to submit tranquiUy. Here, as at the mosques, it is aU-important to be prorided, beforehand, with sUppers ; for if, in Europe, 288 CONSTANTINOPLE. we take off our hats, on entering any respectable place, in Turkey you teke off your shoes : which latter process has, perhaps, the more significance of the two ; because, in performing it, you, at least, leave at the tlireEhol4 the dust of your feet.i The seragUo, or properly " serai," occupies, with its irregular buUdings, that triangular piece of land, which is washed on one side by the waters of the Sea of Marmora, and on the otberby those of the Golden-Hom. An embattled waU encloses its whole extent ; wliich is very considerable. An embankment, paved with large flagstones, extends along the two sides which face the sea. The current dashes past, with stertUng rapidity ; the blue waters boU and foam as if fri a heated cauldron, and make miUions of sparks to dance in the suu. Apart from this, the water is remarkably transparent, and renders plainly visible the green rocks or white sand at the bottom. Vessels cannot stem this current, except they be towed, or employ steam-power. Above the walls, — which are mostly dUapidated aud sunken, and made up of incongruous fragments of more ancient structm-es, — can be seen buildings with latticed windows ; kiosks of a Chinese or rococo style ; the cones of cypresses, and tufts of plane-trees. Over the whole, hangs an air of solitude and abandon ment ; and it is hard to beUeve, that behind this duU and dingy wall is the luxurious abode of the glorious KaUf, ¦ the aU-powerfid Sovereign of Islam. The entrance for visitors is through a gateway of very unpretending architecture, guarded by a few soldiers. Beneath this gateway, in superb cabinets of mahogany, ' Those who have visited any of the German " show-palaces, "with their floors of inlaid and polished wood, will be aware, that the com pulsory assumption of slippers is not restricted to the East. — Tuans. THE SERAGLIO. 289 are guns ranged in racks, in most admirable order and condition. This gate passed, our little band, preceded by an officer of the palace, a cawas and a dragoman, traversed a sort of garden, wild and uneven, planted -vrith gigantic cypresses ; a cemetery minus the tombs ; and speedUy reached the entrance of the apartments. By direction of the dragoman, we here assumed our slippers, and began to ascend a wooden staircase, which certeinly had nothing monumental about it. In our Northem countries, whfere (founded upon recollections of the " Arabian Nights ") an exaggerated idea of Orientel mp gnificence obtains, the coldest spirite cannot but raise, in imagination, magical architecture ; columns of lapis- lazuU, -vrith capitals of gold and foUage of emeralds and rubies ; and fountains of crystal sparkling with jete of li-ving sUver. But we confound (to begin with) the Turkish style with the Arabic, -vrith which it has nothing in common ; and we dream of Alhambras, where there are, in fact, but sUght kiosks, and rooms of the simplest ornamentation. The first room which we entered, was cfrcular in form, pierced by nuraerous trellised windows, and surrounded by a divan in its whole extent. The waUs and ceiUng were adomed with gUding and arabesques ; black curteins and a sloping comice of carved work, completed the decoration. A very fine matting (which is doubtless superseded in -vrinter by a luxurious Smyrna carpet) covered the floor. The second apartment was painted of a grayish tint, in " distemper," in the Italian mode. The thfrd had, for decoration, landscapes, mirrors, blue curteins, and a mantel-clock -vrith gUded face. Upon the walls of the fourth, are sentences traced by the hand of Mahmoud ; who was an exquisite caligraphist, and, Uke aU the Orientals, vain of that talent ; a vanity quite com- 290 CONSTANTINOPLE. prehensible, because this writing, compUcated by its curves, ligatures and interlacements, approaches closely to the art of drawing. After traversing these rooms, we reached a smaller one. Two sketches in crayon by Michel Bouquet, were the sole objects of art, that attracted the eye, throughout these apartments, in aU of which reigned the severe nudity of Islamism. One of these sketches represented The Harbour of Bucharest, and the other, a View of Constantinople, from the Maiden's Tower ; -vrithout figures, be it weU understood. A mechanical clock displayed a view of the Seraglio- point, with caiques and vessels, set in motion by the machinery, and pitching about in a manner to excite the intense admiration of the worthy Turks, and the smiles of the irreverent Giaours, who scoff at everything ; for such a clock were more appropriately placed iu the dining-room of a rich grocer, than in the mysterious abode of the Padischa. The same room, however, as if by way of compensation, contained a cabinet, the parted curteins of which gave to riew a mass of workmanship in gold and jewels ; the true luxury of the Orient. It was a treasure which had no need to envy that of the Tower of Londoii. It is the custom for each Sulten to bequeath to this collection, some article which has been pecuUarly in his personal use. The greater part have given arms, consisting of kandjars, with handles Uterally overlaid by diamonds and rubies ; sabres, in sUver scab bards, carved in relief, and blue-veined blades covered with Arabic inscriptions, in letters of gold ; masses of arms, richly enamelled; and pistols, of which the stocks had disappeared beneath clusters of pearls, corals and precious stones. But the Sultan Mahmoud, in his quaUty of cali- THE SERAGLIO. 291 grapliist and poet, had bequenthed his writing-desk, inlaid with gold and covered with diamonds. By a sort of civiUsed coquetry, he had sought to blend thought with this mass of emblems of brute force ; and to show that the brain has its power as well as the arm. In this cabinet is seen, also, a curious Turkish mantel-piece, made in honey comb, like the stalactites which were pendant from the ceiUng? of the Alhambra. Beyond, is a gallery where the odalisques play and take exercise, under the surveiUance of the ¦ eunuchs, who exercise over the females much that sort of authority which an usher -vrields in the play-ground of a school. But the place was too sacred to be entered by the profane, even when the bfrds were no longer in the cage. A Uttle farther on, rise the cupolas, sterred with large panes of green glass, which cover the imperial baths, adomed with columns of alabaster and slabs of marble ; but which we had to content ourselves -vrith admuing from the outeide. We resumed our shoes, at the door by which we had entered, and continued our "risit. We came, presently, to a garden fiUed -with flowers, framed, as it were, in com partments of wood, in the old French mode. Then we traversed courts, surrounded by a species of cloisters with Moorish arcades, containing the apartments of the icoglans, or pages of the seragUo ; and reached a kiosk or paviUon, containing the Ubrary, which is entered by a ffight of steps, with a marble balustrade, deUcately carved. The door of this library is a marvel. Never did the Arabic genius trace upon bronze so wonderful a maze of lines, angles, sters — blending, crossing, interlacing and entwining, in a labjrrinth, at once compUcated nnd mathe matically precise. Only the daguerreotype, eould retrace this fairj'-like piece of workmanship. Tho workman, who 292 CONSTANTINOPLE. should conscientiously undertake to copy, with his pencil,, these inextricable meanderings, would of necessity go mad iu despair, after wasting half of a life upon the attempt. In the interior, are ranged, in book- cases of cedar, Arabic manuscripte, with the edge turned toward the spectator; a disposition quite peculiar, which I had afready remarked in the library of the Escurial, and which the Spaniards have, undoubtedly, borrowed fi-om the Moors. There, also, we were shown, upon a large roU of parchment, a sort of genealogical-tree, bearing, in oval medaUions, the portraits of all the Sultans, executed in miniature, in water-colours. These portraits are said to be authentic originals; a thing somewhat hard to believe, for they are represented of one uniform tjrpe, -vrith pale faces and black beards ; and the costume is, throughout, that of the Turks of Moliere and Racine, without distinc tion of age or period. The Ubrary seeu, we were introduced into a kiosk of Arabian architecture, approached by steps of marble; and in which shone, in all its splendour, the ancient Oriental magnificence, of which, as has been seen, the apartmente preriously risited had not exhibited the sUghtest trace. The greater part of the apartment was occupied by a throne, in the form of a divan, or couch, with a canopy supported by hexagonal columns of gilded brass, sprinkled -with garnets, amethysts, turquoises, topazes, emeralds, and other precious stones, in the rough state ; for formerly the Turks did not cut their gems. Horse-teils hung at the four comers, from large golden balls surmounted by crescents. It were difficult to imagine anything richer, more elegant, or more truly regal, thau this throne, made as a seat for the Kalifs. The barbarians alone have the secret of this marvel- THE SERAGLIO. 293 lous goldsmiths' work ; and the art seems likely to be lost — one does not know why — in proportion as civiUsation advances. Without falling into the monomania of an an- tiquarj', onc may dcclarc, that the fnrther back the date of an architecture, a jewel, or a weapon, the more perfect is the taste, and the more exquisite the workmanship. Pre-occupied -vrith the development of inteUect, the modem world seems, in some respects, to have lost ite accurate perceptions of grace and beauty. Some rays of Ught, falUng from a half-open -wdndow, made these earrings sparkle and drew fire from the geras. Some tiles, of Arabic workmanship, designed with ad rafrable symmetry, decorated the base of the walls, as in the haUs of the Alhambra at Granada; in the ceUing, baguettes of sUver-gUt, curiously carved, formed compart ments and roses. In one coi-ner, from out the shadow, shone a curious Turkish fire-place, made in the form of a niche, and destined to receive a brazier. A sort of conical dome, in carved brass, enameUed with most graceful Arabic designs, served for mantel-piece. Facing the throne, was a -window, omamented -vrith a massive grating of gUded bars. It was outside of this sort of wicket, that, in olden times, the foreign ambassa dors waited, standing, whUe thefr humble commimica- tions were transmitted, by proper officers, to the Sublime Sultaur seated, with the immobUity of an idol, on his dais of gold and jewels, between his two symboUcal turbans. Hardly could the ambassadors see, through thefr grating, shining like fixed sters, the magnificent eyes of the unap- piroachable Padischa ; but this was quite enough for the Giaours ; only the shadow of the deity should, at most, be risible to the dogs of Christians ! The exterior is not less remarkable. A large project ing roof covers the edifice. Columns of marble, sustain 294 CONSTANTINOPLE. the carved and decorated arcades. A slab of verd-antique, charged with au Arabic inscription, forms the sill of the door, the lintel of which is very low ; purposely so, it is said, that even the haughtiest of the vassals of the Sidten must, perforce, stoop his crest in entering the presence of the Gi-and Seignor; a trick of etiquette, Jesuitical enough, and as worthUy as . grotesquely evaded, by an envoy of Persia, who entered backivards, as one does in a Venetian gondola. In the description of the Bairam, I spoke sufficiently of the portico under which that ceremony took place, and have uo need to visit it again ; and I continue the description of my route at hazard, mentioning things as they present themselves to mind. It were difficult to give an accurate account of the nuraerous buildings, of various styles and periods, erected ¦vrithout preconcert or effort at harmony of effect ; and fol lowing, each, the caprice or the necessity of the moment ; scattered, as they are, too, over a vast sm-face, with large intervals, and shaded, here and there, by cj-jiresses, plane- trees and sycamores, of gigantic proportions. From amid a tuft of trees, rises a fluted column with a Corinthian capital, producing a most chai-ming effect, and to which is given the name of Theodosius ;' but with how much accuracy, I cannot pretend to say. I refer to it, because the number of Byzantine ruins or monuments, at Constantinople, is very liraited. The ancient city has disappeared almost utterly ; the gorgeous palaces of the Greek dynasty, of Paleologus and Commenus, have vanished ; their columns of marble and of porphyry have served for the decoration of mosques, and their foundations, covered by the fragile mbbish of Mussulman constructions, are bm-ied, little by Uttle, beneath the ashes of ever-recm-ring fires. Some- THE SERAGLIO. 295 times, the cm-ious visitor may encounter, built into some wnU, a fragment of a broken stetue, or a shattered column ; but nothing retaining its original form. It is beneath the soil, that the remaius of ancient Byzantium must be sought. It is worthy of remark, however, as a striking indica tion of " progress," that in the court in front of the ancient church of Saint-Irene, now transformed into an arsenal, and which forms a part of the dependencies of the seragUo, the authorities have coUected many relics of antiquity ; heads and trunks of statues, bas-reUefs, in scriptions, and tombs ; the rudiments, in fact, of a Byzantine museum, which may graduaUy become cm-ious and valuable, by daUy additions. Near the church, stand two or three sarcophagi of porphyry, covered with Greek crosses, and which have, doubtless, contained the remains of former emperors and empresses ; but now, deprived of thefr Uds, become reservoirs of the rain of heaven, and ¦ serve as baths to the bfr-ds of the afr, who hover joyously about them. The interior of Saint- Irene is stored with guns, swords, and pistols, of modem fabric, arranged with a miUtary precision, that woidd do no discredit to any European museum of arms. A collection of much higher interest to visitors, is, however, that of historio arms, preserved in one of the gaUeries. There we saw the sabre of Mahomet II. — a short, straight blade, of blue Damascus steel, inscribed, in gold, vrith Arabic letters ; an enaraelled armlet of Taraerlane, and a battered sword, of iron, with cross-handle, once wielded by the renowned Scanderberg. In glass-cases, lie the keys of conquered cities — syrabolic keys, oma mented, Uke jewelry, with inlayings of gold and sUver. 296 CONSTANTINOPLE. Beneath the vestibule, are coUected the kettles aud the kettle-drums of the janissaries ; those kettles, which, when turned bottom upwards, made the Sultan tremble aud tum j)ale, even in the recesses of his harem ; together with fascines of ancient halberds, old cannon, and sin gular antique culverins, recalling the Turkish mode of warfare before the reforras of Mahmoud ; those reforras, so useful, doubtless, but so calamitous, in a picturesque sense. The stables, over which we cast a passing glance, had nothing worthy of remark, and contained, at the moment, only some comraon horses ; the Sultan always being fol lowed bj' his favourite steeds. The Tui-ks have not, how ever, the passion for horses, which distinguishes the Arabs; although fond of them, and possessing sorae noble specimens. In the foregoing account, you have pretty much all that a stranger can see, or know, of the seraglio. No stranger-foot profanes the private retreats, the retired kiosks, of the Sultan. The seraglio, like all Mussulman dweUings, has its selamlick ; and in the seraglio, as else where, it is for the harem that are reserved the refine ments of a voluptuous luxury ; — the divans of cachemere, the carpets of Persia, vases of porcelain, cabinets of enamel, ceilings of cedar, fountains of marble, and columns of jasper. Throughout Turkey, indeed, the abode of the meu is, as it were, the naked and bare vestibule of the abode of the females, for whom the mansion would seem to be constructed, — a raere guard-room, interposed be tween the internal Ufe and the world without. I much regretted that we were not allowed to pene trate into a marvellous hall of baths, — a veritable realised dream of the Orient, — of which Maxime Ducarap has given a splendid description; but, on this occasion, its keeper was less compliant, or had received fresh com- TUE SERAGLIO. 297 mands. If the houris take vapour-baths in paradise, it must be in a hall, similar to his btjou, of Mussulman architecture and luxury. Fatigued by this long circuit, — during which I had been shod, and unshod, and reshod, seven or eight times, — I issued from the seraglio, by the Augustan gate {Bab- Hummayoun) ; and, leaving my companions, went and seated myself on the bench outeide a little cafe ; whence, while eating sorae grapes of Scutari, I could conteraplate, at leisure, this monumental gate-way, with its high Moorish arch, ite four superb columns, ite marble scroll, inscribed in letters of gold, and ite two uiches ; in which are exposed the heads of decapiteted stete-crirainals. Among other heads, tbere is stiU to be seen, upon a sUver plate, that of AU-Teppelleni (or Ali-Tebelen), the renowned Pasha of Janina, whose history has been so viridly recalled to European readers, in Dumas' wou derful romance of " Monte- Christo." I examined, also, the beautiful fountain of Achmet HL, at which I had glanced on my way to Saint- Sophia. This, and the fountain of Top-Hane, are by far the most re markable in Constentinople, where there are so many others that are beautiful ; and are unequaUed specimens of the richest Oriental architecture, combined vrith the most gorgeous Oriental ornamentation. 298 CONSTANTINOPLE. XXIV. PALACE OF THE BOSPHOEUS. MOSQUE OF MAHMOUD. THE DEKVISH. In sailing upon the Bosphorus in a caique, after passing the Maiden's Tower, there becomes risible, opposite Scuteri, an immense palace in course of construction, which bathes its white feet iu the blue and rapid waters. The exists in the East a superstition, sedulously en couraged by all architects, to the effect that no man dies, while the house which he is building remains unfinished ; and the Sultans, in particular, teke care always to have some palace in progress. Forming a remarkable exeeption to the custom of the Turks, — whieh is to consecrate soUd and precious materials to the use of the house of God, and to erect for the transitory habitetion of mau, oidy kiosks of wood scarcely more enduring than himself, — this palace is of marble, and built for iraraortality. It consists of a large centre building, and two vrings. To say to what " order of ai-chitecture " it belongs, were diffi cult. It is not Greek, nor Roman, nor Gothic, nor Saracen, nor Arab, nor yet Tm-kish ; but approaches, nearer than to any other, to that style which the Spani ards term plateresco ; and wliich makes the facade of a buildiug resemble a gigantic piece of goldsmith's-work. PALACE OF THE BOSPHORUS. 299 in respect of the complicated luxury of its oi-naments, and the exaggerated minuteness of its details. Windows with open-work balconies, -wreathed pUas ters, and festooned frames, and the intermediate spaces crowded with sculpture and arabesques, recaU the ancient Lombard style, and remind one of Venice ; except that there is, between the palace Dario, or Cad' Oro, and that of the Sultan, the sarae difference as between the grand canal and the majestic Bosphorus. This enormous structure of the marble of Marmora — of a bluish white, which the gloss of novelty makes look somewhat cold — produces a superb effect, standing between the azure of the sky and the azure of the sea ; and this -wiU be stUl more striking when the warm sun of Asia shaU have softened and gUded the massive pile, -vrith those glorious rays, which are there received dfrect, and at first hand. An architect would find much to criticise, in this hybrid front, where the stj'les of aU periods and all countries form an order, as undeniably " composite " as it is original. But it may not be denied, that this multitude of flowers, of -wreaths, and of foUage, carved with the fineness of jewelry, and in a precious material, has an aspect singularly rich and voluptuous to the eye. It is a palace, which might be the work of an oma- mentist, who was not an architect, and who spared neither the hand of labour, nor time, uor yet expense. Such as it is, it is far preferable to those everlasting stupid classic reproductions, so flat, sUly, aud wearying, — as monotonous in model as sages or soldiers ; and I Uke much better these rich iaterlacing masses of foUage, -vrith thefr fantastic elegance, than a triangular gable, or a horizontal attic, resting, in accordance with strict rule, upon ranges of spindle-shanked columns. T 2 300 CONSTANTINOPLE. This fresh and elegant ignorance, or defiance, of rule and form, displayed upon so gigantic a scale, has ite charm. It is probable that the bold constructors of our own cathedrals, were little wiser on the same subjects ; but thefr works are not the less admfrable, for aU that. Along the whole extent of the palace runs a terrace, bordered, on the side toward the Bosphorus, -vrith a line of columus, linked to each other by a i-aUing or grating, beautifully -wrought, and in which the fron curves and twines in a thousand arabesques and flowers, Uke the flgm-es which a bold penman traces vrith free hand upon the paper. These gilded gratings form a balustrade of exceeding richness. The two wings, constructed at a different time from the main body, are much less lofty, nor do they harmonise -vrith the centre in style or form. Imagine a double range of Odeons and Chambers of Deputies in miniature, foUowing each other in wearisome alternation, and presenting to the ej'e a long line of Uttle columns, which seem to be of wood, although, in fact, of marble, and you -vrill save me the necessity of description. In passing and repassing, often, in front of this palace, I had fi-equently wished to visit it. In Italy, nothing would have been easier or more simple ; but to bring your boat to shore at au imperial landing-place, would be, in Turkey, a daring and intrusive act, and uot unUkely to be followed by mipleasant consequences. Fortunatelj-, however, a fi-iend put me into communication with the architect, M. Balyan, a young Armenian of great intelU gence, who speaks French fluently. M. Balyan had the courtesy to take me to the spot in his own boat, propeUed by three pau-s of oars. He led me at once into an old kiosk, a remnant of the former palace, where we were served with pipes, coffee, and PALACE OF THE BOSPHORUS. 301 sherbet ; and, subsequently, himself conducted me through the new apartments, -vrith an attention and courtesy, for which I wish here to make my acknowledgments. The interior of the palace was not yet corapleted ; but sufficiently advanced to give an admfrable idea of the future splendour. The religious notions of the Turks, necessarUy de prive thefr ornamentation of innumerable subjects and resources, and sadly restrict the fancy of the artist, who is compeUed to abstain, scmpulously, from blending with his arabesques the representetion of any Uring thing. Thus there are no stetues, no bas-reUefs, no griffins, no dolphias, bfrds, sphinxes, or butterffies ; no figures, half- woman, half-flower ; no heraldic monsters ; — in short, none of those creations which form the fabulous zoology of omamentetion, and of which, for instence, Raphael has made such splendid use iu the galleries of the Vatican. The Arabic style, with its undulating lines, its stucco- lace, ite stalactite ceUings, and bee-hive niches, and ite combinations of bright colours, tastefully enriched with gold, offers resources natural to the decoration of an Orientel palace ; but the Sulten, in the same spfrit which makes us biuld Alhambras at Paris, chose to have a palace in modem taste. At ffrst, oue is surprised at his caprice ; but, on reflection, nothing can be more natural, if simply as an escape frommonotonous harmony-vrith aU arouudhim, and all prerious models. M. Balyan, however, had need of a rare fertiUty of imagination, to decorate, in different styles, more than three hundred haUs or apartmente, with the restriction, above named, imposed upon his materials. The general arrangement of the buUding is very simple. The rooms succeed each other in Une, or open upon large corridors. The harem, among others, adopts the latter style of arrangement. The apartment of each 302 CONSTANTINOPLE. lady opens, by a single door, upon a vast hall or passage, as do the cells of the nuns iu a convent. At each ex tremity of this passage, is an apartment for a guard of eunuchs or bostangdis. From the threshold^ I cast a glance over this retreat of pleasure, which, I repeat, resembles much more a convent or boarding-school, than oue would be prepared to beUeve. There are hidden and extinguished, -vrithout ever shining upon the outer world, unknovm and radiant stars of beauty ; but, perchance, each has won from the eye of the master, one glance of admiration : and that is sufficient ; that makes up thefr happiness ! Tlie apartment of the Sultana- VaUdS, composed of lofty rooms, looking upon the Bosphorus, is remarkable for its ceilings, which are painted in fresco, with incom parable elegance aud freshness. I know uot who are the workmen, who have effected these marvels ; but Diaz could not find upon his palette, tones finer, mm-e vague, more tender, or at the same time, more rich. Now they are skies of turquoise, streaked -vrith Ught clouds, that form depths of inconceivable profundity, in thefr- intervals; then, immense veUs of lace of marvel lous design ; next, a vast sheU of pearl, frradiated vrith aU the hues of the prism, or imaginary flowers hang ing their leaves and tendrils through trelUses of gold. Another chamber presents the same class of splendour. Here is a casket, the jewels of which are spread about in pictm-esque disorder ; necklaces, whose pearls have broken from thefr chain, and rolled forth like drops of haU; while a perfect flood of diamonds, sapphires, and rubies, forms the basis of the decoration. Censers of gold, painted upon the cormces, send forth the blue or clouded smoko of their perfumes, aud cover one ceiling with the varying tints of thefr transparent vapour ; in another, Phingari PALACE OF THE BOSPHOEUS. 303 bm-sts through the openmg of a cloud, and displays the sUver bow, so dear to the Moslem. Aurora tinges with blushes a moming sky ; or, farther on, a piece of em broidery, glowing -vrith liglit, shows its golden texture, confined by a clasp of carbuncles. Arabesques -vrith countless interlacements, sculptured caskets, masses of jewels, -vrildemesses of flowers, vary these subjects in in numerable ways, utterly beyond the reach of description ; and I despair of giring a sufficient clue to guide even the imagiaation of the reader through this gorgeous world of fairy magnificence. The apartments of the Sultan himself, are in a Louis xrv. style. Orientalised, in which the intention to imitate the splendours of VersaiUes is erident. The doors, and the fiames and sashes of the -windows, are of cedar, of maho gany, or of riolet-ebony, exquisitely carved, and protected by richly-gUded gratings or shutters. From those win dows, spreads the most magnificent prospect that the world cah offer ; a panorama without rival, and such as never sovereign beside could behold extended before his palace. The coast of Asia, where, reUeved against a gigantic screen of dark cjrpresses, Scutari stands out, with its picturesque landing-place, crowded vrith vessels ; ite pink mansions ; ite white mosques, and graceful minarets ; the Bosphorus, with its rapid and transparent waters, rippled in every dfrection by ships, steamers, feluccas, antique gaUeys from Ismid and Trebizond, caiques and boats of every form, above which hover the famiUar clouds of mews, guUs, and albatrosses ! Leaning forward, the eye catches, on both shores, the long lines of summer mansions, aud of bright-coloured kiosks, which form, for that won derful marine stream, a double quay of palaces. Add to this, the thousand accidents of Ught, the contrasted effecte 304 CONSTANTINOPLE. of sun or moon, and you have a scene, which, taken in its various aspects, imagination itself cannot surpass, and hardly depict ! One of the pecuUarities of this palace, is a large saloon, enclosed by a dome of red glass. When the sun streams through this dome of ruby, aU things -vrithin blaze with strange Ught ; the afr seems to be Dn fire, and you almost imagine yourself breathing flame ; the columns shine like lamps, the marble pavement reddens Uke a floor of lava, a fiery glow devours the waUs, and the whole wears the aspect of the reception-haU of a palace of salamanders, bmlt of metals in a state of fusion. The pictorial " heU" of a grand opera, or the glare of a mass of Bengal Ughts, can alone convey an idea of this strange effect ; the taste of which may be questionable, perhaps, but which is, nevertheless, very striking. A " gem" of the structure, and one whieh would not disgrace the loveUest architecture of the " Thousand-and- one-Nights," is the hall of baths of the Sultan. It is in Moresque style, built of veined Egyptian alabaster, and seems as if carved out of a single precious stone, with its colonnades, its piUars, vrith graceful over-hanging capitals ; and its arch, starred with eyes of crystal, which sparkle Uke diamonds. What luxury, upon these trans parent flags, shining like agate, to surrender one's frame to the deUcious and skilfid manipulations of the teUaks, surrounded, the whUe, by a cloud of perfumed vapour, and beneath a gentle rain of rose water and benzoin ! Tired of these marvels — fatigued -vrith admfration, I thanked M. Balyan again and again, as he led me forth by the court of honom-, the gate of which is a sort of triumphal arch, in white marble, richly ornamented, and which forms, on the land side, an entrance weU worthy of this sumptuous palace. MOSQUE OF MAHMOUD. 305 Then, as I was dying of hunger, I made my way into a fruiterer's shop, and caused myself to be served with two spits of kabobs,^ each enwrapped in a deUcious pan cake. This I moistened with a glass of sherbet, and so made a repast of a truly local character. Issuing thence, I walked at hazard, trusting to chance for discovering some of those detaUs, which escape you , when you seek thera. WhUe amusing myself by regard ing the shops of the confectioners, and of the raakers of pipes, I reached the mosque of Sultan Mahmoud, near Top-Hane ; one of those centres to which your feet lead you of Ijhemselves, when your thoughts are other-vrise occupied. I adjusted ray watch, at a kiosk fiUed -vrith clocks aud watches, sueh being the frequent neighbour of a mosque. This was a Uttle pa-riUon, of much elegance, with high clear -windows, through which you could read, upon a great variety of dials, almost as many varieties of time, in that sort of way, that you could choose any time you pleased, or which you thought the most probably correct. These clocks gave the Turkish and the European time ; the figures of which do not at all agree ; the Orientals counting from the rising of the sun — a natural starting point, but oue which varies constantly. To these time-recording kiosks, is very generaUy at tached a fountain, where hang cups and ladles of tin, which a keeper fills at the inner basin, and hands to those who ask to drink. These fountains are, almost aU, pious endo-wmente. The mosque of Mahmoud is of modem style, and • It is hard to say how to vmte this in English — kebab, or kabob — the true sound being something that resembles both, but ia identical ' -with neither. — Tkans. 306 CONSTANTINOPLE. different in arrangement from most edifices of its kind, of which Saint'Sophia is the proto-tjrpe. A single dome, encfr-cled at its base by a coronet of windows and fluted brackets, rises amid four high fagades, rounded at their summit, flanked at thefr angles, by piUars or buttresses, and surmounted by crescents, as is also the central dome. Its two minarets are deservedly reno-vmed for their elegance. Picture to yourself, two lofty fluted columns, having for capitals each a projecting balcony, fi-om the centre of which spring other and smaUer columns, crowned also vrith Ught and elegant balconies, and sup porting, in their tm-n, fasces of colonnettes, surmoimted by a conical spfre. They are very graceful, very bold, and very original. OrdinarUy, the turbe, or funeral chapel, of the founder, is placed near the mosque which he has built ; but, con trary to this custom, the turbe of Mahmoud is, charac teristically, placed in a special edifice, of a modem archi tecture, very slightly Orientalised, and in quite another quarter of Constantinople. The Sulten-reformer has, upon his coffin, instead of the classic and traditional turban, the innovating "fez" of the Nizam, starred -vrith a superb agrafe of gems. There is also shown, to those who visit his tomb, a transcript of the Korau, made by this caUgraphie prince, during the tedious leisure hours of the long captirity, which preceded his accession to the throne. Around the mosque are grouped camion foundries, and parks of artiUery ; and there extends a tenace, bathed by the sea, and adomed, at either extremity, by a pretty paviUon. Not far distant, one encounters the joyous tumult of the Great Square of Top-Hane, its charraing fomitain, and its mosque. Beneath the porch of this mosque, I THE DERVISH. 307 saw a figure which I shall never forget. It was the person of a dervish, couched upou the earth, near the fountain of ablutions. He had no clothing but a mere i-ag, of stuff made of camel's hair — a veriteble " sack cloth" for coarseness, and aU soiled with the dust of the desert. This morsel of tetters was tied carelessly arouud his waist, and left, almost naked, a frame strong, bronzed, cooked, and recooked by the blaze of the sun, and the torrid breath of the khamseen. His legs, red as bricks, were shod to the ankle with a coating of gray dust. A vigorous leanness brought out all his muscles and bones ; his hafr, black and matted, bristled upon his head Uke locks of horse-hair ; and upon his bronzed cheeks were scattered some tufts of a scanty beard, for he was young. An insane placidity reigned in his fixed eyes. Alone iu the midst of the crowd, as if in the centre of Sahara, he seemed luUed by some apocaljrptic rision. He made me think, involuntarUy, of Saint John in the desert, and never did painter dream of such an one. It is impossible to imagine anything more wUd, more savage, more hag gard, or more ferociously ascetic ; more thoroughly con sumed by fanaticism, or wasted by faste and macerations. Such a penitent might, indeed, fearlessly traverse the waste places of the earth, for the lions and panthers would shrink before that vrild form, fed upon locusts. He was a hadji, just retumed from Mecca. He had seen the blaek stone, performed the seven sacred evolu tions, and drank of the water of the weU Zem-Zem, which washes away aU sins ; and, aU naked as he lay, he would have regarded as Uttle the rank and grandeur of a vizier, if placed -vrithin his reach, as he would a grain of the dust which clung to his feet. 308 CONSTANTINOPLE. XXV. THE ATMEIDAN. " The Atme'idan" (which lies behind the walls of the seraglio), is the ancient hippodrome. The Turkish word has precisely the same signification as the Greek; i. e., arena for horses. The Atme'idan is a large, open space, bounded ou one side, by the extemal waU of the mosque of Sultan Achmet, and, on the others, by ruins, or scattered buildings. In the central portion, rise the Obelisk of Theodosius, the Serpentine Column, and the Walled-pjramid ; faint ves tiges of those splendours, which, in other days, frradiated this superb circus. These ruins are, however, nearly aU that remain, on the surface, of the marvels of ancient Byzantium. The Augusteon, the Sigma, the Octagone, the Baths of Achilles and of Honorius, the Porticos of the Forum ; all these are buried beneath that mantle of dust and forgetfulness, in which all dead cities are enwrapped. The work of time and decay has been acoeleTated, by the depredations of Barbarians, Latins, French, Tm-ks, and even Greeks. Eaoh successive invasion has worked iw ravages. It is incomprehensible, this blind fury of de struction, and this stupid hatred of mere stones ! And yet it must be natural to humanity, for the same thing has occurred at all epochs. It would seem as if a work THE ATMEIDAN. 309 of art pained the eye of a barbarian, as day-light the eye of an owl. The light of intellect annoys hira, — he knows not why, — imd he extinguishes it. Religions, too, destroy with one hand, even if they construct with the other ; and there have been many reUgions at Constantinople. Christianity destroyed the monuments of Paganism ; Is lamism, the monuraents of Christianity ; and, perhaps, the mosques are destined to fall before the progress of another change. It must have been a gorgeous spectacle, when a crowd, blazing with gold and jewels, murmured and sparkled beneath the porticos that surrounded the hippodrorae ; nnd contended alternately for "The Greens," or "The Blues ;" those factions of charioteers, whose rivalry agi tated the empire, and even caused seditions ! The golden cars, drawn by horses of noble race, scattering, with rapid wheels, the powder of azure, or vermilion, with which the course was sprinkled ; and the Emperor bending from the lofty terrace of his palace, to applaud his favourite colour ! Conceive the scene ! The " Blues," if one may adapt a modern phrase to the Byzantine epoch, were Tories, and the " Greens" were Whigs ; for poUtics were mingled with these con tests of the circus. The green faction actuaUy at tempted to create an emperor, and dethrone Justinian; and it required nothing less than the efforts of Belisa rius and a powerful army, to quell the insurrection. In the hippodrome, also, as in an open-air museum, were gathered the spoUs of antiquity. A population of stetues, sufficiently numerous to have peopled a city, thronged its circuit. The horses of Lysippus, — the ste tues of Augustus and other emperors, — Diana, Juno, Pallas, Hercules, Paris, Helen ; aU these celestial majes ties, or superhuman beauties ; aU the high art of Greece . 310 CONSTANTINOPLE. and Rome, — seemed to have sought here a final asylum. The horses of Corinthian brass, removed by the Venetians, paw the air, over the gate of Saint-Mark ; the iraages of gods and goddesses, heroes aad beauties, melted down by barbarians, are scattered abroad, in pieces of base coin ! The obelisk of Theodosius is the best preserved, of the three monuments which remain standing in the hippodrome. It consists of a quadrangular monolith, of rose-granite, sixty feet in height, by six in diameter at the base, gradually diminishing till it reaches a point at the summit. A single vertical Une of hieroglyphics, sharply carved, marks each of its four faces. But, as I am not ChampoUIon, I cannot translate for you the meaning of these mysterious emblems ; doubtless, however, a dedicttion to some Pharaoh or other. But whence comes this gigantic block of stone ? " From HeliopoUs," say the learned. But it does not appear to date back to the earliest Egjrptian antiquity. It is, per haps, only three thousand years old, — raere infancy for an obelisk ! Thus its colour is alraost perfect ; the deli cate rose tint, bearing but a few faiut marks of gray. The column does not stand immediately upon its pedestal ; but is separated from it by fom- blocks of bronze. The marble pedestal is decorated with sorae rude and barbarous bas-reliefs, the subjects of which it is difficult to divine ; seemingly, however, the triumphs, or deifications, of Theodosius and his family. The stifi&iess of the attitudes, the bad drawing and want of expression of tlie figures, aud the crowding of personages, with an utter lack of perspective, chai-acterise a period of decad ence. The recollections of Greece are ah-eady lost, in these shapeless chiselings. Other bas-reUefs are half- buried, by the gradual rising of the earth ; but enough THE ATMEIDAN. ¦ 311 is visible, to show that they are representations of the means employed to raise the obelisk. [Strange resem blance, — the same sort of bas-reUefs appear upon the base of the obelisk of Luxor, placed in the Place de la Concorde, at Paris, by the ingenious Lebas !] Inscrip tions, in Greek and Latin, state that the obelisk, lying upon the ground, was raised in thirty-two days, by Proclus, prefect of the prajtor, in obedience to the com mands of Theodosius ; and to celebrate the virtues of that magnanimous eraperor. Hence the bestowal of his narae upon the monuraent. The Egyptian column, and the pedestel of the Lower Empire, harmonise well, and pro duce a fine effect ; except that the obelisk is almost as fi-esh as if it had but just been hewn from the quany, whUe the pedestal, the younger by fifteen hundi-ed years, is greatly dilapidated and defaced.' Not far from this obelisk, writhes the " Serpentine Column," made of three serpente, intertwined, mounting in spiral, like the grooves or flutings of a Solomonic column. The three heads of the serpents, crested with sUver, have disappeared. There is a tradition, that Ma homet II. , passing on horseback through the hippodrome, struck them off with one blow of his mace-of-arms, by one of those feate of prowess common to sultans. Accord ing to others, he cut off only one of the three heads with his sword, and the second and thfrd were teken away for the value of the bronze ; — a fact which is not incre dible, when we remember the trouble taken, by the bar barians, to seek fragments of froo among the stones of the Coloseura. To destroy a palace, in order to find a naU, is quite characteristic of a savage. This column, raised about nine feet above the ground, but the base of which is buried, seems insignificant in the midst of the vast surrounding space. A noble origin is. 312 ' CONSTANTINOPLE. however, attributed to it. According to the antiquaries, these intertwined serpents sustained, in the temple of Delphos, the golden tripod, vowed by adnuring Greece to Phoebus- ApoUo, after the victory of Platsea, gained over Xerxes. Constantine, it is said, caused the monument to be transported from Delphos to his new city. A tradition, less popular, but to me more probable, when the trivial artistic value of the monument is considered, is that it is merely a taUsman, constructed by AppoUonius of Thyana, as a charm against serpents. I leave the reader to choose between these two origins, as I eould find no eye-witness to testify as to the time or purpose of its erection.' As to the Walled-pjrramids of Constantine Poi-phyro- genetus, which used to be counted as a paraUel to the Seven Wonders of the World, at a period when the most hj'perbolical exaggerations cost nothing, it is no more than a block of masonry, a formless mass of stone, wom by the rain, eaten by the sun, fiUed vrith dust and cobwebs, se vered by cracks, and threatening min on aU sides ; and has no longer the sUghtest significance in an artistic point of riew. This pile of masonry was formerly covered by large plates of gilded bronze, embossed with bas-reliefs, which, from the mere value of the metal, had excited the cupidity of depredators ; and the pyramid of Constantine has been despoiled of its covering, uutil nothing remains but a blackened pUe of stones of some eighty feet in height. This golden pjrramid, which the panegjrrlsts of the period compared, in importance, to the Colossus of Rhodes, must have made a splendid appearance, mider the clear sky of Constantinople, and amid the noble monuments of ' It is remarkable, that the Greek priests have not affirmed it to he the identical "Brazen Serpent" reared in the wilderness by Moses. ¦W^ere it iu Spain, this would be done as a matter of course.— Teams. THE ATMEIDAN. 313 ancient art, surmounting the colonnades- of the cfrciis, crowded -vrith smnptuously-clad spectators. But, to imagine what it then was, the fancy must go through a process of entire restoration. Formerly, the Turks used this cfr cus as an arena for racing their horses, and for practising the easting of the djerid, or javelin ; the ground being for centuries prepared for such uses. The " Reform," however, and the intro duction of European tactics, have caused the abandonment of the javelin ; — a weapon better suited to the vrild riders of the desert, than to regiments of regular cavalry, discip Uned in the modem manner. At the extreraity of the Atmeidan is situated the Et- Meiden (meat-market) — a place memorable, and, de spite thc brilUant sun which floods it vrith Ught, gloomy ¦and sinister. If you observe yon half-decayed mosque, and those walls which stUl retain the marks of flre, you -vriU readily perceive the traces of buUets. This ground, to-day wliite and dusty, has been wet and red with blood. It was in this Et-Meiden, that the celebrated and fearful massacre of the janissaries took place. The late Sultan Mahmoud, feeUng, -vrith the instinct of genius, that his erapfre was tottering to ite faU, beUeved that it inight be saved by the introduction of arms and discipUne like those of the Christian kingdoms ; and he' caused his troops to be armed accordingly, and driUed bj' Egyptian officers familiar with European tactics. This just and simple reform aroused the indignation of the janissaries, and met their most resolute opposition. Their gray moustechios bristled with indignation ; the fanatics cried out against this sacrilege, invoking Allah and Ma homet the while ; and were inclined almost to regard the Commander of the Faithful as a Giaour, because of his fr- u 314 CONSTANTINOPLE. reUgious foUy-in introducing diabolical manoeu-yres, of which Mahomet II. and Soliman I. had found no need, either to achieve or to retain thefr conqueste. Fortunately, Mahmoud was a man of firmness, and not easUy intimidated. He had resolved to conquer or perish in this struggle; for the insolence of the janissaries, (equal to that of the praetorians, or the streUtz,) had become in supportable ; and thefr perpetual seditions shook the throne, of which they claimed to be the main prop. In fact, they had long held the Sultans in awe, and often dic tated the succession to the almost powerless throne. The opportunity to bring the affafr to a crisis was not long in comiug. Au Egyptian insti-uctor struck a soldier, who was either insubordinate, or wUfuUy awk ward ; and the indignant janissaries espoused the cause of thefr comrade, overturned thefr kettles in sign of revolt, and threatened to fire the city, at its four comers ; — these being (as we have remarked) thefr two especial modes of expressing discontent. They assembled in front of the palace of Kosrew- Pasha, thefr aga ; and demanded, vrith fearful cries, the heads of the Grand- Vizier and the Mufti, who had ap proved ofthe Sidtan's impious " reforms." But they had not to do with one of those enervated Sultans, who had so often been but too happy to appease theu- revolts, by throwing them a few heads of obnoxious ministers. At news ofthe insurrection. Sultan Mahmoud hastened from Beschick-Tasch, where he was steying, assembled the troops who stiU remained faithfid, convoked the ulemahs, and took fi-om the mosque of Achmet, near the hippodrome, the Stendard ofthe Prophet — never displayed except the empire be in danger ; — and summoned aU good Mussulmans to raUy around the Commander of the THE ATMEIDAN. 315 Faithful and Successor of Mahomet, in support of a holy war. The aboUtion of the janissaries was decreed. MeanwhUe, the rebels had intrenched themselves in the Et-Meiden, near thefr barracks. The regular troops of Mahmoud occupied all the neighbouring streets, and planted cannon to command the market-place. The in trepid Sulten passed repeatedly, on horseback, before the ranks of the insurgente, braring a hundred deaths, and suraraoning them to disperse. The " situation " continued. A moment's hesitation might ruin aU. A brave aud devoted officer — Kara Dyehennem, by name — seeing the urgency of the crisis, had the boldness to precipitate ite cUmax, by suddenly firing his pistol upon the priming of one of the cannon. The piece exploded, and the shot -vrith which it was charged, opened a long lane of death in the ranks of the rebels. The action had begun. The artiUery now thundered ou aU sides. A susteined fire poured Uke haU upon the crowded and confused masses of the janissaries, and the combat soon degenerated into a massacre. It was a literal butchery. No quarter was given. The banacks, where the fugitives sought to entrench themselves afresh, were set on fire, and those who escaped the sword perished in the flames. Accounte differ enormously as to the number of per sons slain. Some say six thousand ; others twenty thou sand, or even more ; but from the preriously-estimated numbers of the janissaries, it was probably between four and five thousand. The bodies not consumed by the fire, were thrown into the sea ; and, for several mOnths after ward, the fish, rendered semi-putrid by thefr banquet of human flesh, were unfit for food. The vengeance of the Sulten (or, perhaps, of his over- u 2 316 CONSTANTINOPLE. zealous subordinates) did not stop there. Wheu you walk in the cemetery of Pera, or Scutari, you see innumerable decapitated monuments, standing stUl upright, with their carved tmbans of marble at thefr feet. These are the tombs of former janissaries, whom even death had not placed beyond the reach ofthis expression of vengeance. Was this terrible extermination vrise, or othei-wise, in a political point of riew ? Did not Mahmoud, iu destroying this powerful body, extinguish one of the forces of the state ; one of the main props of Turkish nationaUty ? Has the modem progress effectively replaced the ancient barbaric energy? In the twilight which shadows the decline of empfres, does the torch of reason yield a better light, than the blaze of fanaticism ? It is stiU hard to saj'. But the events which the world is about to vritness, will soon decide the question ; and the policy of this great and fearful act of Mahmoud, can then be definitely judged by its results, ' ' Had our author -written after the late gallant displays of Turkish military energy and skill, in their unaided contests with the Russians, he would have felt tbat, at leaat, the power of the nation was not sensibly weakened by the loss of the janissaries j and, apart from this, I think it but just to append to the censure of Mahmoud, implied by the tone of the narrative, the observation, that the world has long recognised the fact, that, in the struggle with the janissaries, the Sultan's life and throne were both at stake ; and that the struggle was not of his provoking. That formidable and lawless corps, had long been the terror of successive Sultans, — raising and deposing them almost at pleasure ; and indulging with impunity in every extreme of cruelty, extortion and license, at the expense of the people. It had become evident, that either the Sultan or the janissariea must fall, and they challenged their own doom by opon revolt. This fact, alone, quite destroys all parallel between their case and that of tbe Mame lukes (so inhumanly murdered by Mehemet Ali), to which it has been sometimes likened. Indeed, fearful as it was, it may be doubted, whetber, under Eas tem institutions and customs, anj thing less tlian such utter extermi- THE ATMEIDAN. 317 But I have wandered, very far, from my humble voca tion of mere Uterary daguerreotypist ; let us retum to our narrative. At some distance from the Atmeidan, in the midst of a spot streAvn with the ashes of former fires, and at the back of a hUlock, gapes, like a great black mouth, the entrance of a gigantic Byzantine cistern. The descent is by a wooden stafrcase. ¦ The Turks call it Ben-Bir-Dereck, or the Thousand-and- one Columns, although there are, in fact, but two hundred and twenty-four piUars. These columns, of white raarble, are surmounted by large capitals, of a barbarous Corinthian style, supporting arches, and forming numerous aisles with their ranges. They haVe a projection three or four feet from thefr base, which shows the height to which the water rose, and which formed their apparent base, when the reservoir was filled. The earth has been elevated by the accumulations ofthe dust of centuries, the crumblings of the roof, and detritus of all sorts ; and the cistem must for merly have been much deeper, than it now appears. There are some sculptures faintly discernible upon the capitals of the columns ; — Byzantine hieroglyphics, the raeaning of which is unknown. An Epsilon and a Phi, which are often repeated, are rendered by these words : " Enge- Philoxena;" signifying, that this cistem served for stran- ¦gers. It was built by Constantine, whose raonogram is apparent upon the large Roraan bricks which form the /irches, and on the shafts of many of the colurans. At present, some Jews and Armenians have established a silk manufactory here. nation would have eifected its purpose ; and it has long been admitted, ithat, even if carried out to an inhumanly fierce extent, it was, in its essentials, an act of self-defenoe on the part of the Sultan ; and a rescuing of both the throne and the people of Turkey from a murder ous, lawless, and moat tyrannical domination. — Trans. 318 CONSTANTINOPLE. Spinning-wheels and winders buzz beneath the arches of Constantine, and the noise of looms imitates the rippling of the waters which have disappeared. There reigns in this subterranean region — half Ughted and half buried in profound shadow — an icy coldness, which chills the visitor; and it is with a lively sensation of pleasure, that he re- mounte, from the depths of tbis gulf, into the warm glow of the sunshine ; pitying, sincerely, the poor work-people, patiently pursuing their tasks, like gnomes or kobolds in their cold and dreary cavern. Not far from this cistem, in the rear of Saint-Sophia, there is another reservoir, called Yeni-batan- Serai, the Palace of the Mother Earth. This last, however, does not contain a silk factoiy, like Ben-Bir-Dereck. Near the entrance a humid and penetrating mist, charged with colds, coughs, and rheumatisms, envvraps you in its damp mantle. A vast dark expanse of water bathes the columns, green with moisture, and extends beneath the gloomy arches, to a distance which no eye can penefrate, and which the torches cannot illumine. Nothing could be more grim and sombre. The Turks believe that djinns, ghouls, and afrites, hold their sabbath in these lugubrious regions; and there flap, joyously, their bat-like wings, damp with the drippings of the vault. Formerly, it was customary to navigate, in a boat, this subterranean sea ; and the voyage must have strongly re sembled the crossing of the infernal stream under the guardianship of Charon. Some boats, drawn, doubtless, by the action of unknown currents, towai-ds some gulf, never returned from this dark journey, which is now, therefore, peremptorily interdicted ; and which, even were it otherwise, I should not have had the slightest desire to undertake. THE ELBICEI-ATIKA. 319 XXVI. THE ELBICEI-ATIKA. Upon the Atmeidan, in front 6f the mosque of Achmet, and near the Mecter-Hanfe (or dep6t of tente), stends a rather handsome house, of Turkish style. It is the Elbicei-Atika ; the museum of ancient Ottoman costumes. This museum, recently opened to the public, has in front a court, where spreads a lovely carpet of verdure, and where sparkles the water of a fountain playing in a basin of marble. If there were not, at the door, a person to take the tickets of admission, the visitor might fancy himself in front of the Konak of some bey. Nothing can be more agreeably tranquil than the whole aspect of this retrospective vestiarium of the ancient Turkish Empfre. The shade and sUence of the past enwrap this calm asylum in thefr gentle cloud. In setting foot within the Elbicei- Atika one retrogrades from the present, and enters, in bodily presence, the realms of histoiy. Upon the steircase, as a sign or a sentinel, one en counters a yenitcheri-hollouk-nefefri ; in other words, a janissary of the body-guard. In the time of the power of the janissaries, no one passed iu front of a post of that lawless body, without being more or less laid under con tribution. It was imperative to throw something into the basin, or be insulted and beaten. A figure, whose head aud hands are of wood, carved 320 CONSTANTINOPLE. and coloured (not without skiU), wears the dress of the ancient janissary. This infraction of the peremptory law of Mahomet, which prohibits all representation of the human figure, is very remarkable ; aud gives incontestable evidence of the weakening of religious prejudice, on one point at least ; a result produced, doubtless, by contact with Christianity and civilisation. Such a museum as this, in which one sees nearly four hundred personages, had been an utter impossibility not long since, although, at present, it seems to shock no one ; and, not unfrequently, some old janissarj', who escaped the massacre, comes to indulge his reminiscences amid the costuraes of his former compa nions-in-arms, and sigh over the remenjbrance of " the good old times" which have passed away for ever. The wooden janissary has the air of a jolly swaggerer. A sort of ferocious bonhomn^ie breathes in his marked features, heightened by a long moustache. He would evidently be capable of murdering facetiously ; and his attitude expresses all the disdainful indifference of a privi leged body, who considered, that, for them, everything was permitted. With his legs crossed one over the other, he plays upon the louta, — a sort of three-stringed guitar, — to charm the leisure of his friends. He wears a red tarbouch, aroimd which is rolled, in the fashion of a turban, a piece of common cloth ; a brown sort of cassock, the ends of which are covered by his sash; and large trousers of blue cloth. In his belt — at once arsenal and pocket — are heaped, or bristling, handkerchief, napkin, tobacco-pouch, poignard, yataghan, and pistols. This habit of cramming everything into the sash, is common among both Spaniards and Orientals; and I remember having seen, at SevUle, a combat with knives, in which the only thing killed was a melon contained in the sash of pne of the combatants ! THE ELBlCEI-ATIKA. 321 Before the yenilcheri is placed a little table, covered w-ith ancient Turkish money, — aspres, paras, and piastres, which have become rare, — showing the " black-mail" levied by the janissaries upon the " cockneys" of Con stantinople. Near him are roasting, upon a girdle, sorae grains of maize ; a food with which Eastern frugality contente itself. We passed without fear, because he was of wood ; and we had, moreover, paid our ten piastres at the entrance. Facing this janissary, stood some soldiers of the same body, in costumes very similar. Passing the threshold, we found ourselves in an oblong apartment, dimly lighted, and filled with large glass-cases, containing figures dressed with scrupulous care and ex actitude. This was the hall of Curtius, — the "Tussaud exhibition" of a world which has disappeared. There are collected, like the types of antediluvian animals, in the museums of natural history, the individuals and the races suppressed by the coup d'itat of Mahmoud. There live again, in an existence dead and motionless, that fantastic and chimerical Turkey, of turbans like mounds of pastry ; of dolmans triramed with catekin ; of high conical caps ; of jackete with suns embroidered on the back ; and of arms barbarously extravagant, — the Turkey of melo dramas and fairy tales. Only twenty-seven years have glided away since the destruction of the janissaries, and it would seem to have been a century, all is so radically changed. By the resolute wUl of the reformer, the old national habits have been annihilated; and costumes, which have been really contemporary, have become his toric antiquities. In viewing, behind these glasses, those moustached or bearded visages, with fixed eyes and colours mocking the Ufe, iUuminated by a feeble and oblique light, one cannot 322 CONSTANTINOPLE. but experience a strange impression, — a sort of indefinable uneasiness. This approach to reality, differing from the ideaUsation of art, disquiete, by the sort of iUusion which it produces. In tracing the transition, from the statue to the Ufe, you seem to have encountered a corpse. These fierce visages, but no muscle of which moves, remind one of those rouged and painted bodies of the dead, which, in some countries, are carried to the grave with uncovered faces. These long files of strange-looking personages, main- teining etemaUy the stiff and constrained positions ori ginaUy assigned to them, resemble those people, petrified by the vengeance of some sorcerer, of whom we read in Eastem fables. There is wanting only the white-bearded old man, sole surrivor of the dead city, reading the Koran, whUe seated upon a stone bench beside the gate. He might be personated, perhaps, although father prosai cally, by the man who had demanded, at the door, the money for our tickets. It is impossible, here, to describe, one by one, the himdred aud forty figures enclosed in the glass cases of these two floors, between many of whom the difference is only some almost imperceptible variation of cut or colour in the costume. Such a detaUed descriptiou has, however, been admirably given by M. George Nagnes, son of the editor of the French newspaper at Constantinople. The Elbicei-Atika is composed, chiefly, of the former costumes of the household of the Grand Seignor, and the different uniforms of the janissaries. There are, also, ¦ some flgures of artizans, dressed in the old fashion ; but not many. The chief functionary of a seraglio is naturaUy the master of the eunuchs — the kislar-agassi. The specimen THE ALBECEI-ATIKA. 323 of this dignitary, in the Albicei-Atika, is splendidly clad in a pelisse of brocade, embroidered with flowers and worn over a tunic of red silk, and enormous trousers, sup ported by a magmficent cachemere, doing duty as a sash. He wears a twisted turban of red rauslin, and bootees of yellow morocco. The Grand Virier {Sadrazam) wears a turban of singular form, entwined with a roll of muslin traversed by a band of gold. He has also a lierslu-kaftan (robe of honour) of brocade, embroidered -vrith flowers of red and green. From his sash of cachemere protrudes the richly-jewelled handle of his kandjar. The Sheik-ul- Islam, and the Capiten-Pasha, are very similarly dressed. Hosts of other officials, in. gorgeous and characteristic dresses, stand around in throngs. Perhaps, the most remarkable is the tchameh-agassi, or chief of the ushers, vrith his robe of gold tissue, his sash, fastened by a mas sive gold clasp and bristling with a whole arsenal of weapons, an^ his cap (also of gold) terminating in a cres cent, of which one hom is in front and the other behind, — a fantastic head-dress, arousing reminiscences of the lunar Isis. This official, who mould not appear misplaced at the gate of the palace of Thebes or Memphis, carries in his hand a wand, with bifurcated handle, and, in form, much resembling a nilometer — another Egyptian associa tion. This wand is the badge of his office. One other remarkable figure is that of a man, in a robe of white silk fastened by a sash covered -vrith plates of gold, and wearing a cap of the same material, which ex pands, at the top, into four curves or protuberances, Uke those of the chapska of a Polish lancer. This is a dilciz, or mute ; — one of those silent executioners of secret ven geance or justice, who pass around the necks of rebeUious pashas the fatal silken eord, and at whose sUent appear ance, the cheek of the boldest was wont to tum pale. 324 CONSTANTINOPLE. After a long sequence of guards and officers, the series is closed by two dwarfs, fantasticaUy accoutred. These Uttle monsters are hardly two feet and a half in height, and are grotesquely hideous. No sovereign of the middle ages considered his court complete, vrithout the presence of either dwarf or jester, to serve as a foil to his splendour and greatness ; and, in Turkey, the custom was not only honoured then, but is stUl mainteined ; — as we have had occasion to observe. The rest of the museum is fiimished from the corps of janissaries, every variety of whose costume is here repro duced ; as if Sultan Mahmoud had not sought to annihilate them in the Et-Meiden. But, before speaking of their costume, it -vrill, perhaps, be more interesting to inqufre into thefr organisation. ' The yenitcheri, or " new troop," was formed by Amu rath IV., with the object of surrounding himself by a chosen body-guard, upou whose devotion he could rely. The nucleus was formed of his slaves ; aud to these were added, subsequently, prisoners of war and recruits. Thefr name, yenitcheri, has beeu conupted by Europeans into yanissary, or janissary, — which sound has the defect, however, of forming another word in Tm-kish, which sig nifies " keepers of the gate ; " and has thus been supposed to express the original function of this body. The orta, or corps, was dirided into odas, or messes ; and the different offlcers assumed culinary titles, laugh able enough at first hearing, but thus explainable. The soup-maker, the cook, the scuUion, the water-bearer, seem strange military designations ; but they gi-ew to have far more of the terrible than the absurd in thefr asso ciations. To harmonise -vrith this culinary hierarchy, each oda, in addition to its standard, had for ensign a kettle, marked with the number of the regiment. While in re- THE ALDICEI-ATIKA. 325 volt, thcy reversed their kettles ; a process which carae to make the Sultan tremble in the recesses of his palace ; for this respectable body did not always content theraselves ¦vrith a few heads to boil in their kettles, but occasionaUy insisted upon a revolution, and a change of sovereign. Having enorraous pay, being well fed, and strong in privileges, conceded or extorted, the janissaries, at length, formed a nation within the nation, — an imperium in im perio ; and their aga was one of the most powerful per sonages of the empire. The aga whose effigy is exhibited at the Elbicei-Atika, is dressed and armed in the most gorgeous manner, but the style of his costume is the sarae as has been afready described. Beside him, stands the sauton, — hermit or devotee, — who was the patron of the corps, and named Bekiack-Emin-Baba. He blessed the orta at ite forraation, and his memory was always held in high veneration. They invoked his name in battle, in danger, and jn all times of eraergency. Without attempting to describe the various costuraes of the janissaries, which were aU founded upon the Turkish dress of the period, one cannot but bestow a word upon the singularities of habilement of sorae of their officers. The chief scullion — a grade equivalent to lieu tenant — wore upon his shoulder a gigantic ladle, as the badge of his rank I — a ladle which might have been stolen from the kitchen- dresser of Gargantua. This strange de coration terminated, however, in a lance-blade ; doubtless to associate the idea of war with that of cookery. Other officers, bore gridirons, spiders, saucepans, and almost every variety of utensil, made more or less military by modification of form, but all retaining the priginal fea tures with unmistakeable distinctness. But to describe the dress of " the candle-lighter," the " bearer of the cat- o'-nine-tails," the man with the " wooden-bowl," and 326 CONSTANTINOPLE. another with a stove for a tmban, would take too much space. We may just glance at the kombaradji (bombardiers), forming part of the corps founded by Ahmed-Pasha, Count of Bonneval ; a celebrated renegade, and one of the soldiers .of the Nizam-djedid, instituted by the Sultan Selim, to counterbalance the influence of the janissaries. it is from this body, formed of the remains of the soldiers of St. Jean d'Acre, that may be traced the intro duction of a uniform araong the Ottoraan troops. The dress of the Nizam-djedid, is very like that of the Zouaves and Spahis of the French army of Africa. A few specimens of Greeks, of Armenians, and of Arnaouts, complete the collection. In wandering through the Elbicei-Atika, before these cabinets peopled with phantoms of a past time, it is im possible to avoid a feeling of melancholy ; and one asks, involuntarily, whether it may not be by an unconscious prescience, that the Turks have been led to form this con servatory of their ancient nationaUty, so formidably menaced by the events of the present day. Those events would seem, to a sombre imagination, to impart almost a prophetic significance, to this anxiety to gather together the peculiarities aud reminiscences of the ancient Ottoman Empfre of Europe, now in danger of being di-iveu back upon Asia, as its last asylum. Let us hope, however, that it is only the antiquated usages and habits of that period, symboUsed by its costume, which, having become unfitted for the associations of progress and civilisation, are destined to be thrown aside, or preserved only as curious objects of reference or remi niscence ; while the nation itself shaU gain, in intelligence and freedom of action, by the change. KADI-KEUL 327 XXVII. KADI-KEUI. An excursion to Kadi-Keu'i, is a pleasure which the in habitante of Pera rarely refuse theraselves on holidays ; especially those who are not rich enough to own a country house on the Bosphorus, among the summer palaces of the beys and pashas. Kadi-Keni — " vUlage of judges" — is a Uttle town on the coast of Asia, opposite the seraglio, and in that locality where the 5ea of Marmora begins to narrow iteelf to form the entrance ofthe Bosphorus. Upon its site stood, in ancient times, the town of Chalcedon, or Chalcedonia, built by Archias, under the Megarians, about the time of the itwenty-third Olympiad, 685 years before Christ ; a tolerably respectable antiquity. Others, however, attri bute the founding of Chalcedon, to a son of the soothsayer Calchas, at the time of the return from the Trojan war ; and others, again, to colonists from Calchis in Euboea, who gave the town the name of the City of the Blind, in con tempt of those who selected ite site, when they could have chosen that on which Byzantium afterwards rose. This reproach does not, however, at this day, seem so very just; for Kadi- Keui enjoys one of the most admfrable prospecte in the world, and Constantinople displays, upon the oppo site shore, the magnificence of its domes, its minarete, and 328 • CONSTANTINOPLE. its masses of many-coloured houses, intermingled with tufts of foliage. When one wishes to enjoy the panorama at Cologne, he must take his lodging at Deutz, on the other side of the Rhine ; and to see Stamboul to ad vantage, there is no better course thau to go and take a cup of coffee at Kadi-Keu'i. Two modes of transport are avaUable for this little journey : first the caique, then the steamer, which smokes near the wooden bridge of Galata. As the crossing is rather long, and the cunent rapid, the preference is gener ally given to the stearaer. I have tried both. The steamer is more amusing for the traveller, inasmuch as it presents to him, crowded into a small space, so many specimens of humanity. The separation of the sexes forms so esssential an integral part of the manners aud thoughts of the people, that the quarter-deck of the steamers is reserved for the women, and forms a sort of harepi, within which the Turkish females are confined. The Armenian and Greek women, when they are alone, take the sarae place. The whole deck is covered with low stools, upon which the passengers sit, vrith their knees in their mouths. Boys buzz about, carrying glasses of water or of raki, chibouques and cups of coffee, sweet meats, or pastry ; for, at Constantinople, one is always munching something ; and grave functionaries stop at the comer of a street to buy and eat a slice of baklava, or pastaka, whenever appetite suggeste such a proceeding. At the stem of the boat, were five or six Turkish women, under the care of an old woman and a negress. Their yachmacks, of muslin, were ti-ansparent enough to render visible regular and delicate features, and, through the openings, wildly sparkled great blaek eyes, with heavy eyebrows, joined by the sarmeh. The nose seemed aqui line ; and the chin, depressed perpetually by ite bandages, KADI-KEUI. 329 seemed to retract somewhat. The fault of Tm-kish beau ties, when they are unveiled, is, that the portion of the face about the eyes, is of a much darker tint than any other part of the countenance. " But how do you know this ? " the reader is about to say, DO doubt ; scenting some gaUant adventure, that I have failed to recount. But my knowledge has been attained, in a manner the least Don Juanish in the world. In wandering in the cemeteries, it has frequently happened to me to surprise, involunterily, some lady adjusting her yachmack, or having left it open on account of the heat, tmsting, for security, to the soUtude of the place. That is " the whole story." Those women (on board the steamer), who seemed to belong to the middle class of society, wore feredg^s of light, transparent colours, and exceedingly clean ; and thefr limbs, polished by the use of the Eastem bath, shone Uke marble, between their Uttle pantalettes of sUk and thefr morocco boote. Those same limbs were generally rather stout ; for one must not seek, in Turkey, the slen der and graceful exfremities of the Arab race. One of these woraen was nursing an infant ; and it was amusing, to a European, to see the anxious fastidiousness with which she kept her face covered, whUe seeming perfectly indifferent to the exposure of her whole throat and bosom, caused by the playful antics of the infant. Near this Moslem group, were seated three beautiful Greek gfrls, with their hafr most gracefuUy dressed, after the manner of thefr nation, — parted in wavy bands, as in an antique statue, and flovring over thefr temples on each side ; these bands being encfrcled by a large braid of hafr, forming a sort of diadem. This braid is not always real ; and some old ladies carry their indifference to that fact so far, as to wear it of a different colour from y 330 CONSTANTINOPLE. that of their own hair. A good dame, not far from these beauties, displayed, above some dark bands of hair inter twined with black cord, a large tress of brilliant blonde, which never could lay the slightest pretension to having taken root in her head. The ancient costumes disappear everywhere ; and thus the three j-oung Greeks were dressed in European style ; but their coiffure, and a jacket of embroidered silk, gave them an air sufficiently picturesque. Their chiseled features showed that the Grecian models, now become classic, were but simple copies fi-om Nature. Man can really invent, or imagine, scarcely anything ; not even a monster. It is easy to find, araong the girls of ^Eleusis and Maegara, the living models of Phidias, Praxiteles, and Ly.sippus. These three girls were sufficiently per fect in form, to remind one of the virgin triad of the Graces. During the crossing, everybody smoked ; and a thou sand blue spirals of vapour rose, to join the dark column of smoke from the funnel. The boat, over-loaded on her deck, lurched fearfully ; and, had the " voyage" been ten minutes longer, there would certainly have been some cases of sea-sickness, although the water was as smooth as glass. At length, however, the Bangor (such was the name of this great wooden shoe), ranged alongside the jetty, scattering a whole flotiUa of caiques ; and we set foot on land. What may be called the harbour of Kadi-Keni, — if the word is not too ambitious, — is bordered with caf6s of Turkish, Greek, aud Ai-menian ownership ; always fuU of a motley crowd. The Perotes and Greeks drink great glasses of water, whitened with raki ; the Moslemah swal low little cups of muddy cofi'ee ; and Greeks, Tm-ks, and KADI-KEUI. 331 Perotes, without distinction, raake the rose-water bubble in the narghil^, while the polyglot cry, of" some fire, "ut tered in three or four languages, forms the running accom paniment of the conversation. It is very charming, to sit here and admire the pros pect, under the drearay influence of the pipe ; but it was not for that, that I had come to Kadi-Keui. I had been invited to breakfast, by Ludovic, the Ar menian, in whose shop I had bought some Persian slip pers, sorae tobacco-boxes from Lebanon, and some scarfs of sUk of Broussa, inwoven with gold and silver ; together with some few other of those Oriental knick-knacks, without which no traveUer dare present himself in Paris, on his retum from the East. Ludovic has one of the finest shops of curiosities in the whole Bezestin ; and I have spoken of it, iu detaU, some chapters since. He has, also, at Kadi-Keui, a charming habitation. Like the merchants of " the City," those of Constantinople pass the day at their shops or warehouses, and retfre, every evening, to some villa or cottage, to enjoy thefr domestic life ; leaving all idea of business behind them, as they cross the threshold. I foUowed the chief street of Kadi-Keui to ite termi nation, according to insfructions previously received. It is picturesque enough, with ite coloured houses, project ing balconies, and overhanging floors. Some white fronts interrupt, here and there, the chequer of Armenian and Turk, and produce no bad effect. Upon the door-steps of many houses, were seated, or grouped, beautiful young women, who did not fly as you gazed ; Turkish cavaUers passed along on horseback ; Greek papas, in their violet robes, marched gravely by, caressing their venerable beards ; — animation reigned everywhere. V 2 332 CONSTANTINOPLE. The chief street once passed, the houses became less frequent, and were sunounded with larger gardens. After a few minutes' walk, I perceived a white door, with stripes of blue. It was the door of Ludovic's house. I entered, and was welcomed by a charming woman, with large black eyes, and bearing, in her young face, the featm-es of the Armenian r.ace ; — one of the finest in the world, and almost preferable to the Greek, if the aquiline of the nose did not incline to become a Uttle too much exaggerated, with the approach of age. Madame Ludovic spoke only her mother-tongue ; and our conversation, necessarilj', came to a stand, after the first salutations. I know nothing more vexatious than such a situation. I felt myself the greatest fool in the world, not to know Armenian; although one may, without suffering fiom an education very much neglected, be ignorant of that dialect. With a movement of feminine tact, however, Madame Ludovic relieved my emban-assment, by leading me into a room where some lovely children were at play. Reallj', now that communication between all countries is so universal and so prompt, mankind should adopt a universal language, in which every one could be under stood ; for it is a shame, that two human beings should stand, facing each other, reduced to the condition — for all purposes of communication — of deaf-mutes. The ancient curse of Babel ought to be revoked, in the world of modem civilisation. The arrival of Ludoric, who speaks French fluently, restored to me the use of any tongue ; and, before break fasting, he showed me his house. It is impossible to conceive anything more fresh, or more charmingly simple. The ceiUngs and walls of the rooms were painted in pale, delicate colours, relieved by KADI-KEUI. 333 -white bands ; fine Indian mats, replaced in winter by carpete of Ispahan or Smyrna, covered the floors. Div.ans of antique Turkish stuffs, and ottomans of morocco leather, tempted indolence in every corner. Some small tables, inlaid with pearl, and serving to support plates of con fitures and vases of sherbet, corapleted the furniture. As it was very warm, we breakfasted in the open air, under a sort of portico, facing a garden planted with vines, figs, and melons. Our repast consisted of fish, of a pecu liar kind, fried in oil (the fish are called " Constantinople scorpions"), mutton- cutlete, cucumbers with hashed meat, nnd Uttle cakes with honey ; the whole moistened with Greek wine of two sorts, one like Muscat, the other rendered bitter by an infusion of fir-cones, — a reminis cence of antiquity. The dishes were brought by a little serving-maid of some fourteen years old, who, in her haste, made a glorious clattering upon the gravel of the pathways, with the great wooden shoes, into which she had stuJk her Uttle, naked feet ; and our cook was a big Armenian, with a rubicund risage and a beak Uke a parrot. The breakfast finished, we went to take coffee and smoke a pipe, beneath the great trees which border the shore of the bay. Some musicians were performing an indescribable air, which begun by distressing, but, at length, in a manner fascinated yoii. Thefr orchestra consisted of a rebeck, a flute, and a tarbpulta. When we had heard enough of the singing, the fancy took us to go and see the performance given by some Armenian and Turkish buffoons, at Moda-Boumou, close to Kadi-Keui. The subject of thefr performance was a mysterious beauty, a sort of Princess Boudroulboudour, whose veiled charms, befrayed by the indiscretion of her servante, made fearful ravages among the people. The 334 CONSTANTINOPLE. primitive theatre contented itself with slight decorations. Thespis played in a cart ; the great plays of Shakspeare demanded no other scenic aid than a screen, bearing, in turn, the inscriptions " castle," " forest," " apartment," "fleld of battle," etc., etc., according to the requirements of the text. And at Moda-Boumou, the theatre consisted of an area of beaten ground, shaded by frees, and covered with carpet; the spectators sitting Turk-fashion, and there being a kind of open shed for the females. No scenes, no wings, no curtain, no railing. A tent of canvas, to imaginative spectators, portrayed a harem. A young rogue, with his face enwrapped in a yachmack and his person smothered in veils, like a Turkish woman, proceeded to enclose himself in this harem, affecting languishing and amorous attitudes, aud imitating that goose-like waddle, which their obesity renders but too habitual to the Turkish belles. This entrance produced roars of laughter, and deservedly, for it was comicaUy perfect. When the beauty had taken her place in her habite tion, the sighing lovers came in a crowd to twang the guzla beneath her windows, fi-om which her head leaned ; occasionally showing two stupendous eyebrows, briUiantly charcoaled, and two superb spots of rouge beneath her eyes. The slaves of the house, armed with cudgels, made frequent sorties, and pummeled the suitors, to the intense jubilation of the audience. It was not the lady who responded to the lovers, but a little old man, mummified and broken-down, and with his face surrounded by a little stumpy white beard. This grotesque creature, hidden behind the canvas, sang, in falsetto, at an amnriiigly shrill pitch, tender airs, in imitation ofthe voice ofa woman. At sound of these shrill whinings, the suitors were over- KADI-KEUI. 335 whelmed with delight, and fancied themselves enjoying the music of Paradise. They made, thi-ough the agency of the young lady herself (closely veiled), the most pas sionate declarations to this atrocious old aniraal. The audience, being in the secret, arause theraselves by laugh ing at the contrast, between the words of love and adrafra- tion and the person to whora they are, in realitj', addressed. The Turkish, to those who understand it, lends itself, more than almost any other language, to conundrums, puns, and equivoques. A very slight alteration suffices to change the sense of a word, and turn it into absurdity or something worse ; and this is a facility, of which the comedians no more neglect to take advantage, than do the exhibitors of our old friend Karagheuz. To retm-n to the " play." Two or three of the unsuccessful lovers lose what Uttle brains they may have had, and are " struck comical," eaeh in his owu particular way. One, continually bobs his head forward and back, like those wooden birds which are fixed to a table and moved by the swinging of a ball, by way of pendulum. Auother, to every question addressed to him, responds by a caper and an unvarying exclamation, of bim, boum, bim, boum, paff! A third, carries a lantern, hung on the end of an iron-rod fastened to his turban, and pokes this appendage into every pos sible place where it is not wanted ; earning, in return, an inconceivable amount of whacks, kicks, and tumbles. At length appears the tchelebi, the Almaviva, the tenor, the conqueror ; he who has only to show himself, to capti vate any beauty. He gives to the other pretenders a general clearance. Nourmahal blushes, trembles, partly opens her veil, and answers (this time herself) with a fine gruff voice. The music becomes excited, and the young Greeks, dressed like females, advance, and enact a 336 CONSTANTINOPLE. sort of pantomime expressive of nuptial rejoicings. The beauty has eridently surrendered at discretion. Such, at least, is the interpretation wliich it appeared to bear, following the gestures of the actors, and the seeming movement of the piece ; although it is certainly possible, that I may have deceived myself, as entfrely as did a certein amateur, who mistook, for a sacred oratorio, a pastoral symphony, which he happened to hear per formed ; nnd received for penitential sighs, that movement of the music which the composer had intended should express the chirping of the quails among the com ! MOUNT BOUGOURLOU. 337 XXVIII. MOUNT BOUGOURLOU. THE ISLES OF PEINCES. The farce being finished, I hired a teUka, in order to visit Mount Bougourlou, which rises, at some distance from Kadi-Keui, a Uttle behind Scutari ; and from the height of which the spectetor enjoys an admfrable panoramic riew of the Bosphorus and the Sea of Marmora. The Turks, although they have, properly speaking, " no art," because the Koran condemns, as idolatry, all representation of animated beings, have, nevertheless, in a high degree, the sense of the picturesque. Wherever there is, in any locality, a fitne vista, or a smiling per spective, there is sure to be, also, a kiosk or a fountein, and some Osmanlis enjoying kief upon thefr outspread carpete. They wiU remain thus for entfre hours, in per fect immobility, fixing thefr dreamy gaze upou the distance, and aUowing, from time to time, a fleecy cloud of smoke to escape lazily from thefr parted lips. Mount Bougourlou is frequented, chiefly, by the women, who pass thefr days under the trees, in little companies, or by harems ; watching thefr children at play, chatting among theraselves, drinking sherbet, or listening to the strains of itinerant musicians. My talika, drawn by a stout horse, which the con ductor led by the bridle, foUowed a path which ran close to the sea, whose waters frequently dashed against the 338 CONSTANTINOPLE. wheels as we passed. We left behind us the houses ot Kadi-Keui, crossed the large open space of Hyder-Pasha, (whence, by the way, depart, every year, the numerous caravans of pilgrims bound for Mecca), traversed the im mense cypress grove of the cemetery behind Scutari, and began to clirab the steep ascents of Mount Bougourlou, by a road ploughed with ruts, bristling with fragraents of rock, obstructed, frequently, by roots of trees, and nar rowed by the projection of houses into the highway. For, it must be avowed, that the Turks have the most profound indifference, as to the passability of thefr roads. Two hundred carriages will, in one day, turn out of the road, to drive around a large stone Ijdng in its midst, without any one of the drivers forming the least idea of taking the slight trouble of removing the obstacle. De spite, however, the obstructions and the forced deliberation of the drive, it presents an agreeable and animated scene. The carriages follow and meet each other : arabas, with the measured step of their oxen, drawing parties of six or eight females ; talikas, containing four, seated facing each other, with legs crossed upou their carpete; all richly dressed, and their heads starred with diamonds and jewels, which sparkle through the thin muslin of their veils. Sometimes there passes, in a modem " brougham," the favourite of some pasha ; and, although the thing is easily understood, it has a very droU effect, to see, at the window of one of these broughams, instead of the well-known face of some young lady, who always di-ives in the park without an escort, the muslin countenance ofa lady ofthe harem, enwrapped in her Oriental draperies, and veiled to the eyes. The difference is so remarkable, that it almost jars upon the sense like a discord. There are, also, plenty of cavaliers and of pedestrians. MOUNT BOUGOURLOU. 339 who climb, more or less rapidly, the abrupt ascent of the hiU, following its numerous windings and zig-zags. On a sort of table -land, or plateau, mid- way the ascent, and beyond which the horses cannot mount, stand a large number of carriages, waiting for their owners; specimens of Turkish vehicular taste at aU epochs, and forming a medley, excessively picturesque and bizarre. I caused ray talika to take up a position in which I could, with certainty, find it on my return, and continued my way on foot. Here and there, on the level spots which occa sionally break the ascent, and form a species of terrace, were seated, in the shade, an Armenian or Turkish famUy, recognisable by thefr bootees of yeUow or black, and thefr faces more or less scrupulously veiled. (Wheu I say " family," it must be clearly understood, however, that I speak of women only. The men form separate parties, and never accompany the females.) Upon the suramit of the mountain, were instaUed seve ral cawadjis (coffee-makers), with thefr portable furnaces, vendors of water and sherbet, and dealers in pastry and confectionary, — the invariable accompaniment of every Turkish party of pleasure. A very gay spectacle is pre sented to the eye, by these females, — clad iu pink, green, blue, lilac, — scattered among the grass Uke flowers, and en joying the fresh air and light, beneath the shade of the sycamores and plane-trees ; for, although the weather was oppressively hot, the elevation of this spot, and the play of the sea-breeze, diffused there a deUcious and refreshing temperature. Some Greek gfrls, cro-wned with their diadems of braided hafr, had teken each other by the hand, and, moving to a sweet and gentle afr, resembled, beneath that bright sky, the " Train of the Hours," in the cele brated fresco of Guido. 340 CONSTANTINOPLE. The Turks regarded them vrith silent contempt ; evi dently quite unable to conceive that people should resort to motion as a source of amusement, and stiU less, that they could make such a violent exertion as is involved in dancing. I continued my course, until I reached a clump of trees, which crowned the mountain like a giant plume, and whence one commands the whole course of the Bosphorus, and beholds the Sea of Marmora, dotted with the Isles of Princes ; a radiant and marvellous spectacle. Seen from this height, the Bosphorus, here and there shining at in tervals between its banks of brown, resembles a succession of lakes. The curves of the cliffs and promontories, which project into the water, seem to contract, or even to close it up, from point to point. The undulations of the hUls, upon the borders of this marine stream, have an unsur passed gentleness of profile. The wavy line which is fraced by the recumbent form of a lovely woman, has not a grace more softly voluptuous. A silvery light, clear and tender, bathes, in ite vague fransparency, this extended landscape. In the west, Con stentinople, with its net- work of minarets, on the shore of Europe ; toward the east, a vast plain, intersected by a road leading to the heart of Asia ; in the north, the embouchure of the Black Sea, and the Cimmerian regions ; in the south, Olympus, Bithynia, and the Troad ; and beyond, if the jnind's eye can pierce the distent horizon, Greece, and her sea-dotted Archipelago. But that which most atfracted my regards, was that vast plain, naked and desert, sfr-etching away towards the mysterious depths of Asia, and over which my imagination foUowed in the train of caravans, dreaming of strange ad ventures and exciting incidents. After half an hour of sUent contemplation, I de- MOUNT BOUGOURLOU. 341 scended to the level occupied by the groups of smokers, women, and children. A large circle had been formed around a band of Zi gani, who were playing upon the riolin, and chanting bal lads in a strange dialect. Their complexions of russet leather, their loug blue-black hair, wild and exotic afr, savage moveraents, and picturesquely ragged habiUments, reminded me of the poem of Lenau, " The Bohemians amongthe Heather," four stenzas of which will infect any raan with a desire for the unknown and strange, and the most ferocious longing for an enant life. Whence comes this inextinguishable race, of which identical specimens are found in every corner of the world, among the numerous populations amid whom they move, nnd yet with whom they never blend ? From India, no doubt. Some tribe of Pariahs, who would not submit to their abject hereditary condition. I have rarely seen an encampment of Bohemians, without having the desire to join them and share their vagabond existence. The savage nature stiU existe, beneath the skin of the civilised man ; and it needs but a sUght touch of cfrcumstance, to awaken the secret desfre of es caping the restraint of laws and conventionaUties. It is true, that after sleeping for a week beneath the beautiful sters, beside a cart, and enjoying cookery in the open afr, one begins to miss his slippers, his easy chair, his cur tained feather-bed, and, above aU, his cutlete, moistened with grape juice that has made the Indian voyage — or' even the latest edition of the evening paper; but the sentiment that I have expressed, does not the less reaUy exist. I found my taUka and ite driver where I had left them, and the descent commenced ; an operation sufficiently dis agreeable, considering the rudeness of the decUvity and 342 CONSTANTINOPLE. the state of the road ; which last much resembles a stair case, in ruins throughout, and in sorae places entfrely demoUshed, so as to leave a mere precipice. The sais held the head of the horse, who barked his shins continu ally amongst the stones, and against whose croup the front of the carriage was perpetually thumping ; and my situation in that confounded deal-box, called a taUka, was not unlike that of a rat shaken about in a trap. Jolts, to displace a heart the most firmly encased, occurred at each instant, flattening my nose against the carriage-front when I least expected such a gratification ; and, at lengtlj, although excessively tfred, I was compeUed to get out and follow my infernal machine on foot. Arabas and talikas, filled with women and children, were also " operating" their descent (degringolade, de- tumblementj fi-om Bougourlou ; and there were shoute of laughter at each new plunge, each unexpected semi- somersault. One whole line of females would be plunged into the laps of those opposite, and even rivals embraced each other involuntarily. Oxen, with heads upraised and bent knees, were doing their utmost to " hold-back" against the inequalities of the road ; and the horses de scended, with the prudence of animals who had served a long apprenticeship to bad roads. Horsemen gaUoped along, as if they were on a level, sme of the footing of their barbs, or horses of Kurdistan. It was a charming pell-mell, cheering to the eye, and truly Turkish in char acter ; for although only a space of a few minutes separ ates the Asiatic coast from that of Europe, the local colouring is there much better preserved, and one encoun ters there far fewer Franks. The road became a Uttle more practicable, and I climbed again into my vehicle ; regarding, from the win dow, the coloured houses, the cypresses and turbijs whicli THE ISLE OF PEINCES. 343 bordered the road, and sometiraes forraed an island in the middle of the street, Uke St. Mary-le-Strand. I reached the Bangor once more. The embarkation of her passengers, did not take place without much noise and laughter. An almost perpendicular plank forraed the junction between the boat and the quay. The ascent was very difficult, and it happened to several of the ladies, involuntarily to bestride the plank ; an incident which gave rise to a vast number of modest and virtuous cries and scrambles. In this perilous passage, more than one garter of European manufacture showed how far our merchandise has penetrated ; and more than one half- exposed Umb betrayed its incognito, despite Turkish jealousy. I do not speak of this little incident, however, in the spirit of Paul de Kock, nor for its own sake, but as a trait of manners. The plank was a long one, and by pushing it a few feet farther on to the shore, all this alarm to feminine delicacy might have been avoided ; but the idea of doing such a thing, entered no man's mind ! Night had faUen when the Bangor discharged her Uving cargo at the landing-place of Galate, after having balanced herself across the water (as before), like a frantic see-saw. As the " lions" of Constantinople were pretty nearly exhausted for me, I resolved to pass a few days at the Princes' Islands ; a miniature Archipelago, scattered upon the Sea of Marmora, at the entrance of the Bosphorus ; and which is esteemed a healthful and pleasant residence. These islands are seven in number, besides one or two islete not counted. The largest is caUed Prinkipo ; and is much frequented. It is reached by steara-boat (Turkish or English) in about an hour and a-half. The Turkish boat, which I had chosen, had a singular mechanism, unUke any other that I have ever seen. The piston, in 344 CONSTANTINOPLE. rising through the deck, rose and fell like a large saw, wielded by two men sawing " cross-cut." i Despite this oddity, the English boat outsped us, and justified her name of Swan. Her white prow parted the waters, Uke the breast of a veritable water-fowl. The coast of Prinkipo presents itself, as approached from Constantinople, in the form of a high cliff, surmounted bj- a line of houses. Stairs of wood, or steep winding paths, descend to the beach, bordered by little wooden buUdings for bathing. The firing of a gun announces, from the cliff, that the steamer is in sight, and a flotiUa of caiques and canoes leave the land, to disembark the passengers ; for the shallowness of the water prevente vessels of any draft from approaching the shore. A lodging had already been secured for me, in the only inn of the island ; a wooden house, very fresh and clean, shaded by large trees ; and from the windows of which the view extended seaward, until lost in the distance. In front, was the Isle of Kalki, with its truly Turkish village minored in the water, and ite one mountain, sur mounted by a Greek convent. The water washed the foot of the cUff, upon which my " hotel " was situated ; and one could descend in slippers and dressing gown, to take a bath, rendered inviting by a far out-stretching beach of sparkling sand. ' 'Wbat the author describes, is a common form of machinery in many of the " low-pressure" steamers, particularly on the American waters ; and many of the Turkish steamers are fitted by Amerioan engineers. The piston works in a gigantic black frame,* of irou wood, rising above the deck like tt monstrous guillotine or gal lows ; and has a heavy cross-beam on its top, which moves up and down in this frame (like a window in its sash), at every revolution of the engine ; and the whole has, certainly, a most sinister appearance, to an unaccustomed eye. — Tbans. THE ISLES OF PRINCES. 345 At the table d'hdte, which was extremely -vfrell served, a majestic lady came to teke her place, behind whom stood a superb domestic, in the dress of a Palikari, embroidered with gold and silver,^ and waited on his mistress with a grarity worthy of an English footman. This fellow, looking more fitted to be loading carbines behind a rock, than to be changing plates, had, certeinly, a very strangely misplaced air ; and I doubt if any one -ever poured wine into a glass in a style so grandiose. In the evening, the Armenian and Greek women dressed themselves, to promenade the nanow space be tween the houses and the brink of the cliff. Dresses of rich sUk displayed their folds ; diamonds sparkled in the moonlight; and bare arms were laden vrith enormous bracelets of gold, formed of numerous chains, an omament peculiar to Constantinople, and which our jewellers would do well to imitate, because they give slenderness to' the wrist, and set off the hand to great advantage. The Armenian families are as prolific as those of the English ; and it is not at aU unusual to see an ample mafron preceded by four or five daughters, and as many active boys. The braided hair and the bare necks and shoulders, give to this proraenade the aspect of a ball in the open air. Some Parisian bonnets showed themselves, as on the Prado of Madrid ; but few in number. In the cafes, with which all the terraces upon the sea are supplied, are to be had ices, made with the snow of the Olympus of Bithynia ; one drinks little cups of coffee accompanied by glasses of water, and smokes tobacco in aU imaginable manners ; whUe, in the rear, the trans parent curtain of Karagheuz tempte spectators, with the aid of the clash of a tambourine. Now and then, a blue glare, like that .of the elec tric light, brightens the front of some house, a tuft of 346 CONSTANTINOPLE. trees, or a group of promenaders, some one of whota tm-ns and smiles. It is a lover, who burns a Bengal hght in honour of his mistress, or his affianced. There must be a great many lovers at Prinkipo, for scarcely was one light extinguished, before another shone out. The word " mistress " must be understood in the sense of the old gallantry ; for the manners here are very rigid. Little by little every one returns home, and near mid night all the island is wrapt in vfrtuous and peaceful slumber. This proraenade, and the sea-bathing, form the delights of Prinkipo. To vary them a little, I executed, with an agreeable young man, whose acquaintance I had made at the table d'hote, a grand excursion on donkeys into the interior of the island. We first passed through the village, the market of which made a fiue display of cucumbers, melons, tomatoes, pimento, and grapes ; then we foUowed the sea — sometimes near, soraetimes remotely — through plantations of trees and cultivated fields, to the house of a papa ; a very good Uver, who caused us to be served, by a very pretty girl, with raki and glasses of ice- water. Afterward, coasting the island, we arrived at an ancient Greek monastery, sadly dilapidated, and serving at present as an hospital for the insane. Two or three of these unfortunates, in ragged clothing, with wan coraplexions and morose air, dragged them selves along with the rattle of irons, in a court blazing with sunlight.^ The guardians showed us, for a small gratuity, the chapel, containing sorae wretched jimages, gilded and with brown faces, such as are made at Mount ' Tho word " sunlight," indicates that this excursion was under taken next day ; but, up to this point, the original text would lead one to believe, that tbe author set oflf on this expedition immediately aftcr "all the island" had gone to sleep at "midnight;" and had thua enjoyed a donkey gallop, by moonlight. — Tbans. THE ISLES OF PEINCES. 347 Athos, of Byzantine pattern,' for the uses of the Greek worship. The situation of this convent is admirable. It occu pies the platform above a mass of rocks, and from its ele- ¦vated terraces, the eye can enjoy the contemplation of two iUimitable depths of azure, — the sky and the sea. We returned by another road, wUder than our first, aniong tufts of rayrtles, of tamarinds, and of pines, which are indigenous, and which the inhabitants cut for fire wood ; aud reached the inn, to the great satisfaction of our asses, whom it had been necessary to kick and beat, most unmercifully, to prevent them falUng asleep on the road; for we had comraitted the grave mistake of not taking the driver with us, although that personage is indispensable in a caravan of that description ; the Oriental donkeys des pising exceedingly all " cite" and civiUans, and disregard ing alike their threats and entreaties. After the lapse of four or five days, being sufficiently edified by the delighte of Prinkipo, I started for an ex cursion upon the Bosphorus, from Seraglio-point to the enfrance of the Black Sea. ¦w 2 348 CONSTANTINOPLE. XXIX. THE BOSPHOEUS. The Bosphorus, from Serai-Bournou to the entrance of the Black Sea, is furrowed by a perpetual movement of steamers, almost like that upon the Thames. The caidjis, who used to reign as despots over these green and rapid , waters, regard the passage of the pyroscaphs, much as the postilions do the locomotives of the raUways ; and they look upon the invention of Fulton, as utterly dia bolical. There are still, indeed, many obstinate Turks, and cowardly Giaours, who take caiques, to ascend the Bos phorus ; just as there are, with us, persons, who, despite the railways on both banks of the Seine, vrill go to VersaUles in boats, or to Saint-Cloud in a hackney- coach, or one-horse " chay." These, however, become, day by day, more rare ; and the Mussulmans accommodate themselves very weU to the steam-boats. The " steam-boat" pre-occupies their minds, also, not a little ; and there is not a cafe, or a barber's shop, the walls of which are not adorned with many prints ; where the naive artist has done his best, to portray the gorgeous plume of smoke escaping from the funnel of the steamer, and the paddle-wheels beating the water into foam. I embarked at the bridge of Galata, in the Golden- Hom ; — a point of departure for many of the steamers, THE BOSPHORUS. 349 -which lie there in great numbers, puffing off their white steam, and dark smoke, which form a constant cloud above them, in the clear sky. London Bridge, or Heres- ford (Hungerford) Suspension Bridge, could not present a scene more animated, or a crowd more tumultuous, than this landing ; the arrangemente of which are very incom modious, for, to reach the vessels, one must climb over the bulwarks of the boats, bestride beams, and walk upon decayed or broken planks. Nor is it easy to extricate the steamer from this crowd of vessels, without repeated contact with one or other of them ; but, when once at large, a few strokes of the piston eend you floating freely, between a double Une of palaces, kiosks, viUages, gardens, and hiUs ; upon bright waters, blended of emerald and sapphire, and where the track of the vessel throws out miUions of pearls and diamonds, beneath the loveliest sky in the world, and under the rays of a sun, which forms rainbows in the sUvery spray of the wheels. I know nothing comparable to this two hours' voyage, upon this line of azure, drawn as the boundary between two quarters of the world, — between Europe and Asia, both in riew at the same time. The Maiden's Tower soon comes into riew, with ite clear, white outline, beautifully relieved against the deep hue of the waters ; — Scutari and Top-Han6, appear in tum. Above Top-Hane, the Tower of Galata rears it green, conical roof; and on the reverse of the hiU, spread the stone raansions of the Europeans, and the coloured wooden-houses of the Turks. Here and there, some white minaret rears its mast- Uke spire ; tufts of dark green are visible around ; the massive structures of the foreign legations, display thefr fronte ; and the great cemetery, shows its screen of cy- 350 CONSTANTINOPLE. press ; against which, stand relieved the artUlery bar racks and the military college. Scutari — the Tower of Gold (Chrysopolis) — presente an appearance very sirailar. The dark trees of the cemetery, there, also, serve as a back-groimd for the bright-coloured houses aud snow- white mosques. On both sides, Life has Death imme diately in its rear ; and each town encircles iteelf with a suburb of tombs ; — this association, however, as is so constantly remarked, not in the least disturbing the placid fatalism of the Orient. On the European coast, Schiragan soon coraes in sight . — a palace, built by the late Mahmoud, in European style, -vvith a classic front, like that of the Chamber of Deputies (in the centre of the gable of which, appears the cj'pher of the Sultan, in letters of gold), and two ^rings, sup ported by Doric columns, of Grecian marble. I confess that, in the East, I prefer the Arabic or Turkish architecture ; although this large pile of building, the white staircase of which descends to the sea, produces a flne effect. In front of the palace, a splendid caique, with awning of purple, and enriched with gilding and colours, and bearing on the poop a silver bird, awaited the coming of the Sultan. Opposite, beyond Scutari, extends a long line of sum mer palaces, shaded by arbutus, ash, and plane trees ; and, despite their closely-trellised windows, recalling rather the pleasure-house than the prison ; and, bathing their feet, as it were, iu the water, seem horaes of luxury and tranquil ease. Between Dalma-Baktche and Beschik-Tasch, rises the Venetian front of the new palace, in progress of building, by the Sultan, of which I have already given a particular description. If it be not in the pm-est architectural taste, it is, at least, a palace worthy of a Kalif, weary THE BOSPHORUS. 35J[ of the regular orders of building, and resolved to make his home in a gigantic bijou of marble, wrought in filigree. Dalma-Baktehg was called, in olden time, Jasonion ; for Jason landed there with his Argonaute, in his expedi tion in search of the Golden-fleece. The steamer ran close to the European shore, where the landing-places are frequent ; and, in passing Beschik- Tasch, we could see, in the cafl, the smokers squatting in their treUised stalls, overhanging the water. We soon left behind, Orta-Kieui and Kourou-Tchesme, which border the sea ; and beyond which rise, in gentle undulations, hills, decked with trees, with gardens, houses, and rillages, of the loveliest aspect. From one village to the other, extends a quay, not interrupted by palaces and sumraer residences. The Sultana- Valida, the sisters of the Sultan, thc Viziers, Ministers, Pashas, and other high personages, have erected there charming habitations, with a perfect idea of the Orientel " comfortable ;" which, although not like the English " comfortable," is,, never theless, what it styles iteelf. These palaces are mostly built of wood, with the exception of the columns, which are wrought, ordinarily, out of a single block of marble, of Marmora, or taken from the ruins of some ancient building. But, despite the material of these houses, they are exceedingly elegant, with their projecting roofs, thefr balconies, and recesses ; thefr kiosks and arbours, their treUised paviUons and terraces, adomed with vases and fountains. In the middle of the lattices of cedar, which guard the windows of the apartmente reserved for the women, are round openings, like those made in the curtain of a theafre, and through which the actors riew the spectators. It is by these openings, that, seated upon their carpets or 352 CONSTANTINOPLE. ottomans, the indolent belles can see passing (without themselves being seen) the vessels, the steam-boate, and the caiques, while they amuse themselves by eating mastic, to enhance the whiteness of their teeth. A narrow quay of granite, fonning a sort of terrace, separates these houses fi-om the sea. In passing them, the voyager feels himself seized, in his own despite, with a vague desire to do like Hassan, the hero of Alfred de Musset ; and " throw his cap over the miU" to adopt the fez, and " turn Turk." Near Arhaout-Keui, the water of the Bosphorus boUs like a kettle, by reason of the rapid current. The blue stream rushes, with arrowy swiftness, past the stones of the quay; and there, vigorous as are thefr embrowned arms, the caidjis feel the oars give in their hauds, Uke the stick of a fan ; and if they essay to resist the imperious current, the oars snap like glass. The Bosphorus is fall of currents, the dfrection of which varies greatly, and which give it more the appearance of a river, thau of an arm of the sea. When one reaches the point above described, a cord is thrown to the shore, three or four men pull at it, like horses ; and, bending thefr strong shoulders to the work, haul the boat along, its bow forming a Une of white foam in its contact with the swift current. This rapid passed, the oars are resumed, and the boat glides easily over still water. At foot of the houses, may often be seen groups of three or four Tui-kish women, seated beside their children ; while upon the quay some Greek girls walk, holding each other by the hand, and glancing curiously atthe European traveUers ; men pass on horseback, and flgures are not wanting in the landscape. I remarked, as peculiar, some of the old Armenian houses, painted black — that colom- having been formerly THE BOSPHOEUS, 353 obligatory, the Ught colours being reserved to the Turks, and the antique, or blood-red, to the Greeks. But now, every one can paint his house what colour he pleases, except green — the colour of Islam, of the hadjis, and descendants of the Prophet. Upon the Asiatic coast, more wooded than that of Europe, the -vUlages, palaces, and kiosks, succeed each other, perhaps, a little less closely ; but still very near. There are Kous-Goundjouk, Starros, Beylerbey, Yani- Keui, and, opposite to Babec, " the Sweet-waters of Asia" (Guyuck-Sou). A charming fountain of white marble, surmounted with crescents, and adorned with sculpture and gilding, is risible from the sea, and indicates to the passenger the ¦ locaUty of this favourite resort of the Osmanlis. An ex tensive lawn, covered with velvet tu^f, and studded with spreading beech-frees, planes, and sycamores, is crowded (especially on Fridays) with arabas and talikas ; and, upon thefr Smyrna carpets, lounge the peerless beauties of the harem. Blaek eunuchs, switching thefr white trousers with the whip which is thefr badge of office, walk among the groups, watching for any furtive glance, or covert sign of intelligence, made by any of thefr fafr wards ; and, above aU, watching if any accursed Giaour is seeking to penefrate from afar the mystery of the yachmack or feredgfe. Some times, the women fasten shawls to the boughs of trees, and rock thefr infante in these improvised hammocks ; others amuse themselves with comfitures or iced-water; and some, again, smoke narghUes or cigarettes — aU chattering, or abusing the Frankish women, who are so brazen as to show thefr imcovered faces, and walk in the streete among men. Farther on, some Bulgarian peasante perform thefr 354 CONSTANTINOPLE. national dances, in hope of a gratuity ; cawadjis prepare their coffee in the open air ; Israelites, with robes divided at the side and turbans spotted with black, offer sniall wares to the passers-by, with that servile air which belongs to the Eastem Jews, always crushed beneath the fear of extortion ; and caidjis, on the verge of the quay, sit smok ing, with legs hanging over the water, while they keep watch upon their boats, with one corner of an eye. It were too long a task to describe all the villages which follow, and which greatly resemble each other. It is always a line of coloured wooden houses, like those of the Nuremberg toys, stretching along the line of the quay, or plunging their foundations actually into the water; while the hills, rising in gentle slopes behind, form a soft and harmonious back-ground. At certain parts ofthe stream, are placed, upon perches, a sort of hen-coops, of stra'nge construction, in which the fishermen watch the passage of the shoals of fish, and ascer tain the proper moment for throwing or drawing their nets. It sometimes happens that they fall asleep upon their perch, and tumble head-foremost into the water, waking, only to be drovmed. And now, the two shores approach each other con siderably. It was here, that Darius caused his army to cross, on thefr expedition against the Scythians, upou a bridge erected by Mandrocles of Samos. Seven hundred thou sand men passed there ; a gigantic assemblage of the hordes of Asia, of exotic types with strange arras, and supplied with a cavalry, blended with elephanta and camels. Upon two stone pillars, erected at the bridge-head, were engraved the list of the nanies of the different nations marching in the train of Darius. These colurans rose where now stands the castle of Guzeldjfe-Hissar, con- THE BOSPHORUS. 355 sfructed by Bayezid-Ilderito, " Bajazet the thunderbolt of war." — Mandrocles, according to Herodotus, drew a picture of this passage of the army, which he suspended in the tem ple of Juno at Samos, his native place, with this inscrip tion : " Mandrocles, having built a bridge upon the fishy Bosphorus, dedicates the picture thereof to Juno. In exe cuting this project of King Darius, Mandrocles acqufred glory for the Samiotes, and obtained a crown." The Bosphorus, at this point, is of about four hundred toises in width ; and it is at this same place that have crossed the Persians, the Goths, the Latins, and the Turks. The invaders, whether coming from Europe or Asia, have followed the sarae path. AU these grand out-pourings of nations, have strearaed through the same channel, and marched in the track of Darius. The Castle of Europe — Roumeli-Hissar — named also Bagas-Kcsen, or " cut-throat," makes a fine appearance on the slope of the hill, with its white tovfrers and embattled waUs. The three large towers, and the small one which is near the sea, form, according to the Turkish character, four letters, M. H. M. D., which make the name of the founder, Mahoraet II. This architectural rebus, which one would never guess, recalls the plan of the Escurial, which represente the gridiron of Saint-La-wrence, iu whose honour the monastery was erected. The Castle of Europe is directly opposite to the Castle of Asia, which I have already mentioned ; the two being the guardians of the nanow channel. Near Roumeli-Hissar is a cemetery, whose high, dark cjrpresses and white tombs are mirrored in the blue waters ; and which seems a charming spot to select for one's last resting-place. The steamer, after passing Balte-Liman, Stereh, Yeni- 356 CONSTANTINOPLE. keui, and Kalendar, stops at Therapia, a cliff whose name, in the Greek, signifies " healing," and which, by the salu brity of its atmosphere, justifies the appellation. It is there that the English and French ambassadors have their summer residences. In the pretty little bay which it borders, Medea, retuming from Colchis with Jason, landed, and unpacked the coffer, enclosing her magical drugs and philtres ; and thence, says the legend, and not from its salubrity, the place derived its ancient name oi Pharmaceus, now transformed into Therapia. It is a delightful locality. Its quay is bordered by cafes, decorated with a luxury rare in Turkey, inns, pleasure-houses, and gardens. In the anchorage was moored the Chaptal, commanded by M. Poultier, to whora I paid a visit, and who received me with the invariable courtesy common to officers of the navy. The palace of the French Embassy is a vast Turkish pile of wood, having not the slightest architectural merit ; but airy and commodious. Behind, rise terraced gardens, planted with ancient trees of iraraense height, incessantly shaken by the breezes of the Black Sea. From the high est elevation, the view is magnificent. The coast of Asia spreads before you the shady freshness of the Waters of the Sultana, and in the distance rises the Mountain of the Giant, where tradition places the bed of Hercules. Upon the European shore, Buyuk-Dere displays its grace ful curve ; and the Bosphorus, beyond Rouraeli-Kavak and Anadoli-Kavak, stretches to the Cyanian Isles, and loses itself in the Black Sea. The white sails pass and repass, or go and come, in the distance, like giant sea-birds ; and thought, like the view, loses itself in infinity. BUTUK-DEEE. 357 XXX. BUTUK-DEEE. S-WEEI-WATERS OF EUROPE. BuTUK-DEEE, Seen from the terrace of Therapia, is one of the most charming pleasure villages in the world. The shore curves at this place, and describes a semi-circle, into which the waters pour, to subside in gentle undulations upon the beach. Elegant habitations (among which is discernible the summer palace of the Russian Embassy) rise upon the borders of the sea, at the foot of the hills which form the channel of the Bosphorus. The rich mer chante of Constantinople possess there country houses, to whioh, every night, they are conveyed by steam-boat, to be re-conveyed to their places of business every^ morning. Upon the terrace of Buyuk-Dere, after sunset, the Greek and Armenian ladies, superbly dressed, promenade. The lights of the caf6s and the houses blend in the water with the silvery wake of the moon and the reflections of the stars. A breeze, laden with perfume and freshness, sighs gently, and waves the air like a fan moved by the invisible hand of Night. Orchestras of Hungarian musi cians give to the echoes the waltzes of Strauss ; and the bulbul sings the poera of his loves with the rose, hidden beneath the tufts of the myrtles. After a day of heat, the frame, re-animated by this balmy air, feels a delicious sense of being ; and it is with regret, that one retires to rest. The hotel recently opened at Buyuk-Dere (and rendered 358 CONSTANTINOPLE, necessary by the number of visitors), is well kept. It has a large garden, in which the branches of a superb plane-tree expand themselves, among the boughs ofwhich is established a little bower, wherein I took my breakfast, shaded by a parasol of leaves. As I was admiring the size of this tree, I was told, that, in a plain at the end of the chief street of the village, was another, much more enormous, and known as " the plane-tree of Godfrey de Bouillon." 1 went to see it, and at first glance, I seemed to behold rather a forest than a tree. The trunk, coraposed of an ag glomeration of seven or eight stems, resembles a tower, dilapidated in parts ; enormous roots, like giant serpents half hidden in the ground, creep upon the soil ; and the boughs have more the air of horizontal trees, than of mere branches. In its sides gape black caverns formed by decay, in which the herdsmen sit, as in a gi-otto, and make fires there, without disturbing the giant tree more than do the insects that crawl upon its bark. It is majestically pic turesque, with its monstrous masses of foliage, over which centuries have glided like drops of rain ; and which have seen outspread beneath their shade, the tents of heroes sung by Tasso, in his " Jerusalem Delivered." But do not let us abandon, ourselves to poetry. See, here, the history, which comes, as usual, to contradict the tradition. The learned declare that Godfrey de Bouillon never en camped beneath this tree, and they bring, for proof, a pas sage from Anna Commenus, a contemporary of the facts, which certainly destroys the legend. But, nevertheless. Count Raoul established his camp at Buyuk-Dere, with other Latin Crusaders ; and the people subsequently gave to the tree the name of Godfrey de Bouillon, which, in their minds, was specially identified with the whole crusade. BUYUK-DEEE. 359 Be this as it may, the millennial tree is ever there, full of nests and of sunbeams, seeing the years fall at its feet like leaves ; itself, from century to century, more firm and raore colossal ; while the winds of the desert have long since scattered, among the sands, the impalpable ashes of the Crusaders. The Charlemagne was moored at Therapia, in front of the French Embassy ; and on this night the Ambassador gave an entertainment to the crevv, composed of some twelve hundred men. The sailors had arranged a theatrical per formance in the gardens of the Embassy, which they enacted with surpassing skill, to the great amusement^of their fellow- sailors, and a numerous audience of Europeans, either residents or belonging to the other Legations. The weather was lovely ; and, after the entertainment, 1 resolved to return, that very night, to Constantinople, in a caique with two pairs of oars, manned by two robust Arnaouts. Although it was ten o'clock when 1 started, I could see perfectly, and in faith better than in London at mid-day. It vvas not a night, but a softened day, of incon ceivable purity and transparency. I established myself in the stern of my caique, with my paletot buttoned to the throat, — for the dew fell in fine silvery drops, like the nocturnal tears of the stars, and the bottom of the boat was quite damp. My Arnaouts had thrown jackets over their striped shirts, and we commenced the descent of tbe stream. The caique, aided by the current and impelled by four vigorous arms, flew along almost as rapidly as a steamer, amid the luminous trembling of the water. The hills and capes of the shore threw large shadows across the silvery surface of the waves ; lights burned here and there, on board ships at anchor, or in the distant windows of the villages. No noise 360 CONSTANTINOPLE. ¦was heard, but the measured breathing of the caidjis, the rythmical movement of the oars, the ripple of the water, and an occasional distant barking of some awakened dog. From time to time, a meteor would shoot across the heavens, and die away like a rocket. The milky way un rolled its zone of white, with a brightness and definiteness of outline unknown in the misty nights of the North ; the stars shone, even in the wake of the moon. It was a marvel of tranquil magnificence, and serene splendour. In contemplating this vault of lapis-lazuli, I could not but ask, " Why is the sky so splendid, when the world is asleep ; and why do the stars not rise, but at the hour when all eyes are closed ? " This fairy-like illumination is seen by no one. It is displayed only for the nyctalopic eyes of owls, bats, and cats. Does the Divine Decorator despise the world, that He doea not display His most mag nificent pictures until the spectators have retired ? This is not flattering to human pride ; but then the earth is only a speck, a grain of seed, lost in the immensity of space ; and, as Victor Hugo says, " the normal state of the sky is night." One o'clock had struck, when my boat grazed the land ing at Top-Han6. I lighted my canterio, and climbed the deserted streets, until I gained my apartment, in the Great Field of Pera, — exhausted but delighted. The next~day, I visited " The Sweet-waters of Europe," at the extremity of the Golden-Horn. Passing the thin bridges of boats (the last of which has been lately built by a wealthy Armenian, at his own charge), I cleared the docks of the naval arsenal, — where, upon stocks, hung suspended carcasses of ships, like skeletons of mammoths or whales, and, going between Eyoub and Pein-Pasha, I soon entered THE SWEET-WATERS OF EUROPE. 361 the archipelago of low islands which divide the embouchure of the Gydaris and Barbyses, united a little before they fall into the sea. Some herons and swans, their beaks upon their wings, and one foot held up against their breasts, looked at us with a friendly air as we passed ; gulls flapped our faces with their wings, and hawks described circles above our heads. As we advance, the murmur of Constantinople dies away, and solitude begins : the country succeeds to the town by an insensible transition. The Sweet-waters of Europe are more especially fre quented during the winter. The Sultan has a kiosk there, with artificial waters and cascades, bordered by charming pariUons, in Turkish style. Thia residence was built by Mahmoud ; but as it ia scarcely ever inhabited, and not kept in repair, it has suffered greatly from neglect, and ia almost in ruins. The canal overflows, and the disjointed stones allow the water to escape, while parasitical plants blend vvith the ara besques of the walls. It is said that Mahmoud, having built this charming nest for a favourite odalisque, refused again to visit it, after an early death had taken her from him. Since that time, a veil of melancholy appears to hang over thia deserted palace, buried in masses of sycamores, beeches, and plane-trees, which almost hide it from the eye of the traveller, like the thick forest that surrounds the cha teau of the Sleeping Beauty of the Wood ; and the weeping- willows drop aadly into the water their tears of foliage. On that particular day, there was no visitor but myself, and after wandering for a time beneath the trees, I paused at a little cafl to take some youarth (milk-curd) and a morsel of bread — a frugal repast, of -which I stood in great need. 362 CONSTANTINOPLE. In place of returning in my caique, I took a horse, and retraced my way by Pein-Pasha, Haas-Keui, and Kassim- Pasha, towards San-Demetri, the Greek village near the Great Cemetery of Pera ; and, following vast naked fields, I arrived at Ock-Meidani, which one would take, at a dis tance, for a cemetery, so thickly is it studded with a mul titude of small columns of marble. It is, however, merely the place where the Sultans used to practise throwing the djerid; and these little monuments are to mark the spots of extraordinarily successful casts. They are very simple, and have for ornament only an in scription, or sometiraes only a star of brass, on the summit. The djerid is fallen into disuse, and the most modem of these columna are already old. The old customs disappear, and will soon be only remembrances. Seventy-two days have elapsed since I reached Constan tinople, and I know its every street and corner. Doubtless, this is a very short time in which to study the character and manners of a nation, but it is enough to seize the pic turesque physiognomy of a city ; and that was the sole object of my visit. Life is walled-in in the East ; religious prejudices and old habits oppose all attempts to penetrate its mysteries ; the language is unacquirable, except by a study of seven or eight years ; and one is forced to be contented with a view of the external panorama. A few weeks' prolongation of my sojourn, would have gained me no advantage ; and, besides this, I began to have a longing once more for pic tures,- statues, and works of art. The everlasting bal masque of the streets had began to weary me. I had seen enough of veils ; I wished to see a few faces. This mystery, which at firat occupies the imagination. THE SWEET-WATERS OF EUEOPE. 363 becomes fatiguing at length, particularly when one finds that the veil is really impenetrable. Tou soon cease to think of it, and throw only absent glancea upon the phan toms which glide past you. .Ennui gains upon you, despite the Frankish society of Pera ; which, although compoaed of most worthy people, is not altogether amusing, particu larly for a poet. I therefore secured a cabin on board the Austrian vessel the Imperatore, to go to Athens (by correapondence with Syra), visit Corinth, the Gulf of Lepanto, Patroa, Corfu, the Mountain of the Chimera, and reach Trieste by coasting the shores of the Adriatic. I see already, in imagination, shining upon the rock of the Acropolis, the white colonnade of the Parthenon, with ite interstices of azure ; and the minarets of Saint-Sophia give me no more pleasure. My spirit, turned towards another goal, was no longer impressed by the surrounding objects. I departed ; and yet, although glad to depart, I took one last look at Conatantinople, disappearing on the verge of the horizon, with that indefinable feeling of regret which presses upon the heart, when one quite a spot which he may probably never more behold. X 2 861 CONSTANTINOPLE. NOTE. The following description of an "Eastern bath," forms so ad mirable a corollary to the brief account given by the Author, (pp. 241-244), that I am tempted to append it. It is from a translation of M. Alexander Dumas' admirable " Travels in Egypt and Arabia Petrcea," never published in this country, but charmingly rendered, some years since, by a highly accomplished American lady. — Teans. " The next morning I presented myself at the baths, the moment they were opened. After the mosque, the bath is the finest embellishment of Oriental cities. The one to which I was conducted, is a vast ediflce of simple architecture, and neatly ornamented. At the entrance is a large vestibule, having rooms on the right and left for the reception of cloaks, and, in the rear, a door hermetically closed. Through this door you pass into a room warmer than the surrounding atmosphere, and from this (as I afterwarda learned) you may reti-eat, if you choose ; but put your foot in one of the adjoining closets, and you are no longer your own master. Two attendants seize you, and, for the time, you are the property of the establish ment. Much to my surprise, this was my predicament. I had scarcely entered a closet, when two strong men, belonging to the bath, laid hold of me ; and, in an instant, 1 was stripped to the skin. " One of them then passed a linen shawl around my waist, while the other buckled on my feet a gigantic pair of clogs, which at once made me a foot taller. This mode of shoeing not only rendered flight impossible, but, by its clumsy elevation, desfroyed my equilibi-ium ; and I should inevitably havc fallen, had not the two men supported me on either side. I was fairly caught. I could not retreat, and therefore suffered them to lead me whither they would. " We passed into another room. Here, whatever mightbe NOTE. ' 365 my resignation, the vapour and heat stifled me. I thought that my guides had mistaken the way, and turabled we into an oven, I tried to shake them off, — but my resistance was an ticipated. Besides, I was in no condition for a frial of sfrength, and Was obliged to confess myself vanquished. " In a few moments, I was astonished at perceiving that, as the perspiration poured from me, my lungs began to dilate, and my respfration returned. In this state, I passed through five or six room ; the heat of which increased so rapidly, that I began to believe man had, for flve thousand years, mistaken his proper element, and that his appropriate destiny was boiling or roasting. At last we came to the furnace. Here, the fog was so dense, that I could not see two steps before me ; and the heat so entirely insupportable, that I partly fainted. " I shut my eyes, and resigned myself to my guides in utter helplessness. After leading, or rather carrying, me a few steps further, they took off my girdle, unhooked my clogs, and ex tended me, half swooning, on something like a marble table, in the middle of the apartment. " Here, again, I soon became accustomed to the infemal at mosphere. I prudently took advantage of the gradual return of my faculties, and looked about me. " With my other senses, my sight revived ; and, despite the fog, I made out, with tolerable accuracy, the surrounding objects. " My tormentors seemed to have forgotten me for a moment : they were busy at one side of the room. I lay in the centre of of a large square saloon, incrusted to the height of five or six feet with variously-coloured marbles; A series of spouts threw out, incessantly, streams of smoking water, which, falling npon the pavement beneath, glided thence into four basins, like cauldrons, at the four comers of the room. On the surface of the water in these basins, was an indefinite number of bald heads, bobbing about, and expressing, by the most grotesque contortions of face, various degrees of feUcity. "This spectacle so occupied my attention, that I scarcely heeded the return of my masters. 366 CONSFANTINOPLF. " They came, however ; one with a large wooden bowl of soap-suds, the other with a ball of fine hemp. " Suddenly, one of the rascals inundated my face and neck with his suds J and tbe other, seizing me by the shoulder, rubbed, most furiously, my face and breast with his hemp. " This treatment, and the pain induced by it, were so per fectly intolerable, that all my powera of resistance and resent ment waked at once. I bolted upright, kicked my hempen fl-iend half across the room, and planted my fist in the face of soap-suds, with such good will, that he lay sprawling on the floor. Then, knowing of no other remedy for the soap (which was blistering my skin), I drew a straight line for the basin that seemed the most inhabited, and boldly plunged in. "I had misjudged. The remedy was worse thaa the disease. Before, my face and neck were cauterised ; now, my whole body was scalded : the water was boiUug ! I yelled with pain ; I sprang on and over my neighbours, who could not comprehend my case ; and got out of the tub almost as rapidly as I got in. However, I was not rapid enough to escape the effect of my immersion ; my body was as red as a lobster ! I was stupified ! I must be dreaming, or riding a night-mare ; yet there was no deception. Here, under my very eyes, were men stewing in a bath of whioh I had tried the temperature, who evidently took great delight in the opeiation. What could it mean ? My notions of pleasure and pain had became confused. They could enjoy what to me was agony! I once more resolved to resign myself to fate. I doubted my own judgment. I distrusted ray own senses. I determined o"-ain to submit to my tormentors. "They came, haring recovered from my assault. I fol lowed them without resistanoe to another basin. They made signs to me to descend the steps. I obeyed, and found myself in water of about 100° Fahrenheit. This seemed to me tem perate. From this I passed to another of a higher tempera ture, but still supportable. I remained in it, as in the first, about three minutes. I then proceeded to the fom-th, where I commenced my hellish apprenticeship. I approached it with NOTE. 367 the greatest repugnance, but I liad made up my mind to go through with my deaperate adventure. I first dipped my toes in tho water ; it wns hot, cerl ainly, but not so scalding a before. I gradually immersed my whole body, nnd was sur prised to flnd it endurable. In a few seconds, I thought no more of it, — though, I am confident, the heat of the water must have reached 140° or 150°. When I emerged, my skin had changed from the lobster scarlet to a deep crimson. "My attendante now again took me in hand. They re placed the linen round my waist, bound a, shawl on my head, and led me back through the rooms by which I hnd entered (taking care to add to my covering at each change of atmo sphere), until I arrived at the chamber where I was so uncere moniously stripped. Here I found a good carpet nnd pillow. My turban and girdle were taken off, I was enveloped in a large woollen gown, laid down like an infant, and left alone. "I had now an indefinable feeling of comfort. I was per fectly happy ; yet so exhausted that when the door waa opened, half an hour after, I had not changed my position by the movement of a finger or a muscle. " The new comer was a heavy and well-set Arab. He ap proached my couch as if he had some buainess with me. " I looked on him with a sort of dread, very natural to a man who had passed such an ordeal as I have described ; bnt I was too weak to attempt to rise. He took my left hand, cracked all ite joints, and did the same to the right. After my brands, he administered upon my feet and knees ; and, to finish tbe matter, he dexterously threw me into the position of a gudgeon to be broiled ; and gave me the ' coup de grace,' by cracking the vertebraj of my spine I I screamed with terror ; thinking my backbone was broken, to a certainty. My mas seur then kneaded my arms, legs, and thighs, for a quarter of an hour, and left me, I was weaker than ever ; mj- joints all pained me, and I had not strength sufficient to cover myself with the carpet. A servant now brough^?ine coffee, pastilles, and a pipe, and left me to intoxicate myself with perfume and tobacco. I passed half an hour in a drowsy state, lost in thc 368 CONSTANTINOPLE. vagaries of a delicious inebriation, experiencing a feeUng of happiness before unknown, and entertaining a supreme indif ference to every (absent) earthly thing. I was awakened from this by a barber, who shaved me, and combed my whiskers and moustache. Next, my Arab returned, to whom I made signs that I wished to depart. He brought me my clothes, assisted me in my toilette, and led me to the chamber opening on the vestibule, where I found my cloak. The cost of this entertain ment, which lasted three hours, was a piastre and a half, or about fivepence English.'' IIENEY VIZETELLY, PRINTER AND BNOEATEE, GOUGU SOUAaR, FLEET Sl-RKET. This preservation copy was printed and bound at Bridgeport National Bindery, Inc., in compliance with U.S. copjright law. The paper used meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper). D F (OO) 1999 . . J. 'f'- lis % '-'.ffH );,lV,..:-.-fJ;.J-J'rti|j',f. ¦ ;4,^^--' ¦'m:i