Chapter I: The Coast and the Port (2)

But the point at which you pause is at the head of the
fortification, beneath the soaring escarpment of the square
tower. It is the same site upon which the peoples from the remote
recesses of Asia have stood with the lust of conquest in their
eyes. On the opposite bank of the eastern ravine the drum-shaped
dome of St. Eugenius rises from among a cluster of red-roofed
villas. It was there that the Seljuk sultan issued his threats and
insults, while the Greek emperor fasted and prayed. From within
the limits of that same sanctuary were heard the shouts of the
revellers, mingling with the voices of their concubines. And
a white minaret proclaims the event of the long and unequal
struggle between the full-blooded followers of the Prophet and
the emaciated children of the Cross.

The tower itself has evidently been built at a later period than
the wall from which it rises in a continuous face. The colour of
the stone is slightly paler, and an inscription, now much decayed,
attests it to be the work of the Emperor John the Fourth, the
last but one of the Comnenian dynasty. The ground widens like
a fan from the foot of this tower, and the ravines, which have
almost met, diverge and become great valleys, stretching into the
bosom of the hills. Within that ampler space, a few hundred yards
south of the fortress, one may still recognise the enclosure of
the hippodrome and the great gateway on its northern side. The
wall still rises in places to a height of from six to ten feet,
but all the interior structures have disappeared. A field of
tobacco grows upon the site. Adjoining the gateway, and facing
the palace, one is impressed by the shape and appearance of a
projecting tongue of land with a flat top. The theatre may once
have stood upon this spot.

The ancient churches of Trebizond, some converted into mosques
and others into public baths, are among the most interesting
relics which the town contains. Retracing our steps to the
middle fortress and to the road which joins the two ravines,
we have almost reached the bridge over the westerly depression
before attaining the old cathedral, sacred to the golden-headed
Virgin, of which the southern wall borders our road on the north
(No. 18). How bare and bleak it looks, shorn of its southern and
western porches, and covered with a thick coating of whitewash! A
little court, paved with flagstones, adjoins it on the east,
over which you pass to an entrance at the north-east corner which
has destroyed the side apse on that side. If you scrutinise the
outer wall of the principal apse, you may still distinguish
beneath the whitewash a design of figures in mosaic, one of
which perhaps represents the seated Virgin. Time has worn down
the few sculptured mouldings of which any trace remains. There
is little to attract the eye in this mangled group of gables,
surmounted by the drum of a duodecagonal dome. On the northern
side rises the minaret, adjoining the principal entrance which
has made use of the old porch on the north. Four marble pillars
with Ionic capitals, probably the spoil of some pagan temple,
support the roof of this spacious porch. We are about to enter,
when we are called aside to observe an old fountain in the court
on the east. It contains a marble slab with a Greek inscription,
which is illegible; and the water issues from a much-worn bronze
spout, representing the head of a serpent or dragon, which is
said to have belonged to a bronze model of such a monster, killed
by the spear of Alexius the First. Near the fountain is a tomb,
still maintained in good order, in which repose the remains of a
shepherd youth to whom the townspeople attribute the capture of
the fortress by the Ottoman Turks. The story runs that Mohammed
the Second, foiled by the strength of the citadel, had recourse
to a final expedient of which the result should determine the
alternatives of further effort or abandonment of the siege. A
number of shots were to be fired from a cannon at the chain
which supported the drawbridge. Should it be severed, it would
be a signal for a renewal of operations; in the contrary case
the siege was to be raised. The experiment failed; the sultan
broke up his camp and removed the bulk of his army, leaving,
however, the loaded cannon still in site. A young shepherd,
happening to pass by, was prompted by the hardihood of his years
to try his skill at the difficult mark. He discharged the gun,
and the drawbridge fell. This child of a short-lived future sped
to the camp of Mohammed, who was making his way up the valley of
the Pyxitis towards Baiburt. But his story was derided, and the
sultan, in a fit of anger, caused him to be killed. The rage of
the despot was turned to grief when the confirmation reached him of
this miraculous exploit. His return was followed by the fall of the
city; and he endeavoured to atone for his rash action by loading
his victim with posthumous rewards. Over the coffin one may still
see the ball suspended which decided the fate of Trebizond. And
the martyr is known by a name which repeats the sultan's sorrowful
exclamation: "Khosh Oghlan," or "Well done! Oghlan."

The interior of the mosque produces an effect of extraordinary
massiveness, with its bulky piers supporting the dome, with the
walls which join these piers to the walls of the church and screen
off the aisles from the open space beneath the dome. Except for
the two inner columns of the porch, not a single pillar is to
be seen. The aisles are narrow, and their ceilings low; they are
surmounted by a gallery, from which you look through low, arched
apertures into the nave. The Turks have placed a wooden stage in
the northern arm of the church, between the two walls which screen
off the aisle. This erection faces their altar, and is reserved
for their women; you reach it by a staircase placed inside the
building, in front of the north-east entrance. A doorway leads
from this wooden structure into the old gallery over the aisle,
through which you pass to the women's gallery in the original
design, which fills the space above the ceilings of the narthex
and exo-narthex on the western side of the mosque. Two lofty
vaulted openings display the interior to this gallery; while the
wall between narthex and exo-narthex is pierced by three arches in
a similar style. The door on the west in the storey below, which
in Christian times gave access through these outer spaces into the
body of the church, is no longer used, now that the religious focus
of the building has been changed from the apse to the southern
arm between the aisles. The exo-narthex has a width of 18 feet,
and the narthex of 9 feet 7 inches. The piers upon which repose
the vaulted ceilings of these courts are of such thickness that
the entire space, measured from the inner side of the outer wall
to the outer side of the wall of the nave, amounts to 37 feet
5 inches. The interior measurements of the church proper are a
length of 93 feet 6 inches from the commencement of the nave to
the head of the apse, and a breadth of only 50 feet 5 inches. It
is well lit from windows in the apse and along the walls; but the
twelve windows in the dome are small. Beautiful marble plaques of
various colours, and designs in mosaic, may still be admired in the
apse; but there is an almost total lack of ornament elsewhere. As
to the date of the building, it is ascribed by Texier to the
Grand-Comneni; with much less knowledge I hesitate to offer the
opinion that the design belongs to an earlier period.

From this mosque of the middle fortress, Orta Hisar Jamisi, the
ancient cathedral, it is but a few steps to the bridge over the
western ravine. Like its fellow on the east of the enclosure,
it consists of a lofty stone embankment, with a single narrow
arch through which the stream flows. The prospect on either side
is of great beauty, while the deep shadows of the vegetation,
rising from the floor of the ravine, rest the eye and refresh the
sense. Towards the south, beyond an irregular line of ivy-grown
parapets, and towers of varying features and size, the stately
works of palace and citadel rise against the sky; while in the
direction of the sea, where the depression flattens and is lost
in a maze of houses, the tiers of red-tiled roofs are pierced by
a double series of battlements and embowered forts. The wall of
the middle fortress is seen extending for some distance along
the uneven edge of its rocky support; but it is overpowered in
the landscape by the outer line of walls, which, starting from
the opposite side of the ravine, are drawn in a long perspective
to the shore.

Our goal is now the famous church of Hagia Sophia; it is
situated upon the coast on the west of the city, at a distance
of over a mile from the walls (No. 25). The bridge leads over
into the western suburb, and for a short space you follow the
outer wall of the lower fortress, stretching westwards at right
angles to the ravine. On the right hand this solid masonry and
a massive rectangular tower; on the left, a little further on,
the cypresses of the Turkish burying-field, the leaning white
headstones with their gilt Arabic inscriptions better disposed
and tended than is usually the case. We have passed the street
which turns upwards to the mosque Khatunieh (No. 20), the spacious
and still well-ordered mosque and medresseh which keeps alive the
memory of the mother of Selim the First. Like the middle and lower
fortress, this western suburb is inhabited for the most part by
Mohammedans--what a contrast to the bustling town on the east of
the city where the Christian quarters lie! There, busy streets,
lined with the broad-paned windows of offices and shops; here,
the silent graveyard and widely scattered dwellings which seem
to shrink from contact with life. A brighter aspect belongs to
the meidan or open place, to which we pass and which we cross
(Kavak Meidan, or plane tree square)--an extensive stretch of
green turf, resembling an English common, where in old times the
jerid or spear exercise was performed. Several tombs (kumbets)
are to be seen on this grassy lawn, but I do not know to whom they
have been raised. A little later we have left the last settlements
behind us, and are winding outwards towards the sea-shore.

The church of Hagia Sophia, or the Divine Wisdom, now converted
into a mosque, has been described as one of the most interesting
monuments of Byzantine architecture, sculpture, and painting
that time has spared. [2] This appreciation can only be partially
tested by the traveller of the present day, because the frescos
which once covered the interior of the building have been daubed
over with successive coats of whitewash. It is possible that
when the time comes for restoring the building to Christian
worship, or at least, as we may hope, for preserving it as a
relic to instruct an enlightened age, the scales may fall away
and disclose in some of their ancient brightness the solemn faces
and gorgeous robes of the Grand-Comneni as they looked down upon
the congregation of monks and pilgrims six centuries ago. In
the meanwhile we may consult those descriptions of the paintings
which have come down to us in the accounts of modern travellers
more fortunate than ourselves, for at some periods a portion of
the plaster has fallen and revealed the rich work below. Of the
sculpture and architectural merits we are able to judge on the
spot, for, although the Turks have introduced some alterations
in the structure, they are too clumsy to mislead.

The first view of the building, high-seated on the left hand
where the road debouches upon the sands, at once exhibits the
beauties which are peculiar to it: the choice of site and the
skilful grouping of the component parts (Fig. 3). A broad terrace
or esplanade, which is partly natural and in part supported by
an embankment and a wall, forms the summit of a gentle slope
which rises from the water beyond a fringe of cactus and leafy
shrubs. The surface of the platform is flat and even, and is
covered by a green carpet of turf. The prospect ranges wide
across the bay to Cape Ieros, and seawards without limit over
the waves. On the east, rising ground shuts out the city and the
suburb, while on the south, the open landscape of hill and valley
is felt rather than observed.

From the peaceful elevation of this pleasant terrace the
well-preserved remains of an ancient monastery look down upon the
shore. On the west, at the further extremity of the platform,
a lofty square bell-tower or campanile stands out alone, like
a sentinel, fronting the sea; just below it lies the church,
a cluster of roofs and gables centring in a drum-shaped dome. Of
the monastic buildings only one has been spared, a massive square
edifice at the south-western corner of the platform, which is
almost concealed by trees.

We mount the slope and reach the platform on the southern side,
with the church between us and the blue waters of the bay. A
custodian has been found in some hovel among the orchards, but
no meaner object breaks the grassy surface of the terrace from
which the building rises, the even masonry exposed from base to
dome. Against the plain grey spaces of the walls which lie behind
it, the rich façade of the southern entrance at once attracts the
eye (Fig. 4). It consists of a porch or lateral structure, which
once gave access to a door in the main wall of the church. Two
graceful marble pillars with Corinthian capitals supported the
façade; but the Turks have closed this entrance and walled up the
columns, which are only visible from the inside. The new work
does not rise much higher than the tops of the capitals, and
the openings of the three arches which spring from the pillars
have been filled with window glass. Of these, the central arch
is slightly pointed, and those on either side are round. A
pleasing feature of the design is the bold rounded arch which
spans the porch from one wall to the other, and envelops the three
lesser vaultings and their marble columns within a broad band of
unsculptured stone. On the outer side, a narrow beading of grapes
and vine-leaves accentuates the studied absence of all ornament
upon the masonry of the span; and the keystone is enriched by
the figure of the single-headed eagle of the Comneni, with open
talons and wings outspread. The space of wall which is framed in
this stately manner, and which is supported by the pillars of the
façade, forms a panel or panels which are admirably adapted to
receive that style of decorative treatment in which Byzantine
art excelled. About in the centre, the space is broken by a
quatrefoil window, above which, and on either side, plaques of
varied mosaic have been inserted into the wall. Below the window,
and from end to end, runs a frieze in low relief, surmounted
by an inscription in Greek, "Have mercy upon me, save me from
my sins, O succour me, Lord, God, Holy! Holy!" In the frieze
may be discerned among the shapes of plants and trees, rendered
with the highest skill and with much grace, human figures which
indeed have suffered mutilation, but which, like corresponding
works of the Romanesque style, appear deformed in size. Adam lies
asleep among the foliage of the garden; a serpent, coiled round
a leafless trunk, confronts the standing figure of Eve. Of the
mosaics two at least of the plaques have been removed or have
perished; you see the vacant oblong spaces on either side of the
quatrefoil. The largest panels contain geometrical patterns; but
the most beautiful and best preserved, if perhaps the smallest,
is composed of two doves and two sprays of pomegranate in white
on a black ground. This plaque has been placed just above the
window and below the talons of the royal bird.

The reader will have divined that the great charm of this façade
lies as much in the skill of the design--the wide span of the
arch above the lesser arches, and the pleasing combination of
these forms with the vertical lines of walls and columns, and
with the sharp angle of the roof--as in the decorative effect
of delicate mouldings and elaborate sculptures, and of rich
mosaics thrown on the grey stone. Porches of similar plan give
access to the interior, both on the western and northern sides;
but their tympana or panels are without ornament. The western
porch has an Arab niche with a deep honeycomb moulding from
which the outer arch springs, and this moulding is continued
in the form of imposts above the capitals of the columns. That
on the north is without any remarkable feature, except that the
capitals, which are of fresh white marble, appear to be of much
later date. They are without carving, but in each is cut a panel,
bearing the figure of a Latin cross.

A walk round the building confirms the impression which a first
view produced. It is the number of roofs at various levels, the
different grouping of the gables at every turn, that arrests and
pleases the eye. The walls themselves are of hewn stone, with
plain mouldings, of which the most delicate runs round the apse
and side chapels, above the windows, in a continuous band. On the
face of the apse itself you see the eagle of the Grand-Comneni,
set in panel in the wall.

The entrance to the mosque is through the porch on the west. It
is much shorter or less deep than its two counterparts, but,
unlike them, gives access through a marble doorway to a second
vestibule or outer court. This court or narthex extends the whole
width of the building, and is both lofty and well lit. A door
opens from it into the church proper, an airy interior of pleasing
proportions, into which the light streams from the twelve windows
in the circumference of the dome (Fig. 5). Four massive marble
pillars with carved Byzantine capitals support the pendentives
from which the dome springs; but the sharpness of the sculpture
has been obliterated by thick coats of buff and green paint. The
Turks have also introduced some structural changes. The southern
porch has been thrown into the body of the building, and an altar
(mihrab) placed between the two columns which properly belong
to the façade. In this manner the porch, with its orientation
towards Mecca, has become the religious focus of the mosque;
a wooden gallery, from which my illustration was taken, has been
erected against the opposite wall. The apse, which is lit by three
windows, is supplemented by two smaller apses or side chapels at
the extremities of the aisles.

Like most of the ancient churches we are about to visit during
the course of our journey south, Hagia Sophia is a building of
small dimensions according to modern ideas. The interior has a
length of not more than 69 feet from the inner door to the head
of the apse, with a breadth, excluding the side porches, of 36
feet. A building of this size is admirably adapted to the art of
the painter in fresco, while his work derives the greatest possible
advantage from the features of the design. The lofty vaulted spaces
of the dome and apse were once resplendent with bright effects;
and on the walls were depicted the richly-apparelled figures of
the princes of the Comnenian line. From the partial glimpses of
the paintings obtained by various travellers, it is possible
to realise, at least in some measure, the former splendour of
the scene. At the entrance above the door was seen the image
of Alexius, first emperor of Trebizond, surrounded by his court,
like Justinian at Ravenna; in his hands the golden globe of empire,
and on his forehead a white diadem. On the right of the same door
stood the first Manuel (r. A.D. 1238-63), the prince who was known
as "the great captain," and who, according to the description at
the side of the figure, was the founder of this monastery. The
emperor was without crown, but his forehead was encircled by a
cinglet with a double row of pearls. The front of the royal robe
was adorned on either side by a band of large circular medallions,
bearing the device of the single-headed eagle; a similar ornament,
engraved with the equestrian figure of St. Eugenius, hung upon the
royal breast. Many of the successors of these two princes were
without doubt represented on the remaining spaces of the walls;
while the portraits included those of saints and evangelists,
all attired in costliest style. The apse displayed a group of
three figures, of whom the central one appears to have designated
St. Paul; on his right hand St. James and on his left St. John
were identified by written scrolls. From the inner sides of the
arches, as from the vault of heaven, the faces of angels looked
down. The floor was paved by a rich marqueterie of marbles; you
admired in particular a design of geometrical character in which
the tracing was done in black marble on a ground of vivid reds
and pinks and greens.

But the impression which we should take away from this elaborate
interior would be one of sadness, perhaps of pain. The art, the
life, here represented, was an art in shackles, an expiring phase
of life. The peculiar wooden quality of these expressionless
faces may be gauged by the examples which have been preserved
for us by the care of Texier. Strict conventions had taken the
place of realities alike in life and in art; and how sad after
the unsurpassed beauty of Hellenic vigour are the gaudy get-up
and childish love of baubles which mark the declining years
of the Greek world! Vanished, or hidden from sight behind the
inexorable whitewash, lies the vivid evidence of that departed age;
repugnant alike to the spirit and to the mission of Mohammedanism,
this rich collection of Christian images must, from the first,
have courted effacement. At the time of our visit the walls had
been recently limed over to purify the edifice after the service
of State prison to which, during the prevalence of cholera in
the town, it had been temporarily assigned. In the upper storey
of the campanile, a later work of the fifteenth century, the
frescos are still exposed; but it is evident that they can never
have possessed much importance. The baptistery, which is said
to have been covered with such paintings, has been removed many
years ago. It stood near the edge of the terrace, on the north.

Before retracing our steps towards the city, it is worth while
to extend the excursion to the neighbouring ruin of Mevla Khaneh
(House of gods, No. 23), if only for the sake of a ramble through
the pleasant country lanes and a view over the peaceful landscape
of the bay. Against the background of the line of heights, at
a distance from Hagia Sophia of about three-quarters of a mile,
the scanty remains of a heathen temple emerge from a leafy brake
which fills a recess of the hillside. Portions of a tower and
doorway, the lower parts of two walls have escaped the ravages of
time. Small square niches are seen in the walls at close intervals,
said to have contained the statues of the gods. From the floor
of the temple rise tall elm trees, festooned with wild vine; and
an ancient laurel tree bends over the ivy-grown masonry. Rarely
do people pass this way; and, on the occasion of our visit, we
were the unwilling authors of a rather serious offence. Among the
lanes below the ruin we surprised a young woman, combing her long
hair on the margin of a stream from which she had just stepped out.

One may return to Trebizond by the old road towards Platana, which
has been replaced by a new chaussée nearer the shore. From the
Kavak Meidan, with its one fine plane tree, we proceed through
the quarter of Sotke towards the gate of the same name in the
wall of the lower fortress. The riparian quarters on the east of
the city are well worthy of a visit; they may be reached either
by crossing the crowded spaces of the fortified enclosure, or by
making the more pleasant circuit by the side of the sea. Choosing
the second alternative, we soon arrive at the angle of the wall,
and are treading the broad strip of sand. All the elements of the
picturesque are present in the varied scene--the line of walls,
the massive tower just on the east of the gate of Molos, the
broad-prowed ships drawn up on the shore, the groups of people in
motley attire. In the autumn large quantities of nuts are spread
out on the sand, awaiting shipment to France. The tower is flanked
on the west by the parapet of a modern battery, while on the east
it is adjoined by the vault through which the stream issues which
comes from the western ravine. In front of the vault there is a
little bridge. The submerged remains of a semicircular mole--a
work of the old Greek times--are indicated by a line of surf in
the sea. It is evident that the entrance to this harbour was on the
east. On that side too there is a tower, projecting into the waves
with the form of a wedge, and still joined to the north-eastern
angle of the fortress by the substructures of a massive wall.

It is through an opening in that wall that we pass from the
life of the sea-shore into the more intense and throbbing life
of the bazar. In old times one of the great gates gave issue
from the lower fortress to the important riparian quarters on
the east. This gate, the bazar gate or gate of Mumkhaneh (candle
factories), has been removed to give space to a broad street. The
stream from the eastern ravine, which passes outside the walls,
is taken by a tunnel through this crowded quarter. The bazars
adjoin the fortress; they are well stocked and extensive. The
more one walks in Trebizond, the more one is impressed by the
shyness of the women; nowhere in the East have I seen them more
ashamed to show the face. Nowhere does one realise more keenly
the loss of colour and gaiety which this muffling and veiling of
women entails. A fine example of an old Italian magazine may be
seen in this neighbourhood; it is called the Bezestan (repository
of stuffs, No. 16). Where the bazar is at its busiest, a massive
square building of stone and brick rises above the lines of booths
with their shadowed recesses. It is entered by four doors, of wood
plated with iron, one on each side. In the centre is a well; the
roof rested on four piers and sprang from vaultings at each angle
of the square. The piers and vaultings still remain, but the roof
is gone. The place is occupied by sellers of quilts, or coverlets
stuffed with cotton, which take the place of blankets in the East.

South of this building, beyond the large mosque of the quarter,
which is without architectural interest, are situated the two Greek
churches of Aivasil and Aiana, the first almost on the fringe of
the bazars. Aivasil (No. 14) has been rebuilt, or rather the site
of the old church has been covered by a modern and tasteless
erection. But a long stone, part of a frieze, containing an
inscription of Justinian, which belonged to the earlier edifice,
is still preserved as an historical relic in the body of the
church. Aiana (No. 13), its close neighbour, is, on the other
hand, quite intact, and remains a most interesting example of the
beginnings of Christian architecture. A small and unpretentious
building of stone, not too evenly put together, with the arches
over the little windows constructed of brick, it would almost
escape notice were it not for a large bas-relief in marble which
is inserted into the wall over the door on the south. Although
the stone is cracked and the sculpture has suffered mutilation,
one can recognise that there is represented a colossal seated
figure, with a smaller figure, holding a shield, at her feet. The
interior is built of brick, and consists of a nave and two aisles,
the principal apse being flanked by two side apses. [3] But there
is no dome; and the scanty light which falls on the withered
frescos comes from nine little windows in the walls. Each aisle
has two arches, the more easterly pair resting on piers, and the
more westerly on marble pillars with Ionic capitals. One remarks
the narrowness of the apse, in which is placed a primitive altar,
resembling those in the oldest Armenian churches. It consists
of a horizontal slab resting on a circular stone, and on the
side of the slab is a Greek inscription. Several of the frescos
remain with which the walls were once covered, the building being
still used as a church. Besides Biblical subjects, one observes
several portraits upon the wall on the west. The greater portion
of the space is filled with the pictures of saints and monks;
but on the north side there is represented a colossal figure,
of which the head has unfortunately been effaced. The figure is
attired in a purple robe, with bands of gold embroidered in black,
the same costume as that in which the Emperor Alexius III. is
depicted in the Bull at Sumelas. He holds a circular ornament
or emblem in his left hand. An inscription, partially effaced,
is seen on the wall below the figure. [4] Such is this relic
of the early city, with its spoils of still earlier temples,
bridging the periods of the old worship and the new.

Returning to the commercial quarter from the narrow alleys which
surround this building, we pass an old house which is an example
of a style of architecture now rapidly being replaced by the
modern villa. The exterior, with its projecting upper storey
and semicircular, roofed balcony, where the inmates would enjoy
the freshness of the afternoon, produces an impression at once
of somewhat costly solidity and of picturesque charm. The rooms
are panelled in wood, both walls and ceilings; and screens of
open woodwork, placed before the windows, preserve the privacy
of the life within. In the little niches and in the details of
the ornamentation the spirit is that of Persian art.

The magazines of the merchants are situated along the shore between
the fortified city and the point of Güzel Serai. Proceeding
eastwards, we need scarcely stop to visit the Greek cathedral
(No. 12), a large modern building of extraordinary ugliness on the
margin of the sea. On the south side of this pretentious church we
are shown the tomb of the last of the Georgian kings. A road leads
upwards through the crowded Christian quarter, Frank Mahalla, past
the wall and tower of Güzel Serai (No. 10). These buildings date,
I believe, from a comparatively recent period; but they occupy
the site of the famous fortress of Leontocastron, long in dispute
between the Comnenian emperor and the Genoese. The companion
fort of Daphnus, another Genoese possession, probably stood in
the bay on the west, where the quarter of Dia Funda, an Italian
corruption of the Greek name, faces the modern anchorage. The
walls of Güzel Serai overlook a park of artillery, drawn up on
a grassy platform at the point.

Our walk through the eastern suburb may be protracted to the slope
of Boz Tepe, where an ancient nunnery, famous for its frescos,
commands the landscape of the city from a well-chosen site just
outside its extreme fringe (No. 6). Adjacent to the building,
which presents the appearance of a fortress, was placed the
summer residence or pleasure-house whence the Grand-Comneni used
to survey their beauteous capital. I can well remember the ruin
of this palace, with its blank windows, such a pleasant frame
to the charming view which they overlooked. Alas! this fragment
has disappeared, to make room for an ugly guest-house which the
avaricious nuns have built in its place. The chapel of the nunnery,
dedicated to the Virgin, Panagia Theoskepastos, is built into the
side of the cliff, its inner end being, in fact, a cave. Damp
has blurred the frescos; but one may still recognise the royal
portraits upon the north wall. The upper portions of two kingly
figures, attired in purple robes, and on their right hand, side
by side, two queens with jewelled crowns, still colour the mouldy
side of the cave, and are almost hidden by a row of stalls. They
have been identified by inscriptions which, I presume, have become
effaced, as Alexius III. and his queen Theodora; as Andronicus
and Eirene, mother respectively and son of the first-named prince.

Nor should the traveller omit a visit to the church of St. Eugenius
(No. 19), although he may not have time to visit the grottoes in
the face of Boz Tepe, and to protract the excursion beyond the
embouchure of the Pyxitis to the site of Xenophon's camp. That
famous church is situated in the opposite direction, and has been
already mentioned in the description of the upper fortress. It
stands on the margin of the eastern ravine, almost opposite to
the great polygonal tower. The site is separated from the slopes
of Boz Tepe by a second and smaller ravine, which shows remains,
on the western bank, of walls and towers. Houses cluster round
the building, their horizontal outlines topped by its gables and
crowned by its polygonal, drum-shaped dome. St. Eugenius dates from
the period of the Grand-Comneni; but the frescos on the western
wall, which some travellers have noticed, are now nothing more
than patches of colour. It is a somewhat larger edifice than
Hagia Sophia, which, although less graceful, it resembles in
some respects. The dome rests upon two fluted columns on the
west side, while, on the east, it is supported by piers. A
flood of light fills the interior, which is plain and bare,
the church having been converted to the service of Islam by the
Ottoman conqueror. It was here that Mohammed II. is said to have
worshipped on the first Friday after the capture of the city by
his troops. The event is commemorated by the name of New Friday
(Yeni Juma) under which the mosque is known.

One is fortunate if it be possible to spend the later afternoons of days devoted to the study of the town among the restful surroundings of the pleasant country-side, upon the slopes of the adjacent hills. Such was my privilege in 1898. Our tents were pitched on the lofty plateau north-west of the city, the view ranging on the one side to the rocky cliffs of Boz Tepe, and, on the other, to the distant promontory of the sacred mountain. The crowded impressions of the day would take proportion and perspective. One saw a city which, in spite of the modern aspect of certain quarters, has lost little of the romance of the Middle Age. The earlier imprint upon its buildings is that of the era of Justinian; [5] their actual appearance is due to the Grand-Comneni; a great sleep has bridged the interval to the present time. Yet the life of the place, such as it is, pursues the old channels, and the throng in the streets is to-day not less heterogeneous than it was four centuries ago. The French, the Austrians, and the Russians conduct the carrying trade with Europe, reviving the function of the Genoese. The wares they bring are largely of British origin, and are largely imported by British merchants trading in Persia. Strings of Bactrian camels may be seen in the streets, about to start on the long stages which separate the seaport from Erzerum and Tabriz. The various peoples of Asia and of Europe still meet in the bazars. [6] But the romance of the city can never have equalled the romance of her surroundings, Nature being the subtlest weaver of mysteries, the mother with unending fables in whom the romantic spirit finds the only wholesome refuge from the dull realities of daily life. The most permanent memory which the traveller may take away from his visit may be the fruit of those half-hours between daylight and night which he spends in his encampment above the town. When once the sun has set there ensues a period of twilight, in which the glow of the south appears to be blended with the gorgeous effects of northern latitudes. Indeed, the view over the sea by day recalls the colouring on our English coasts; and the little silken Union Jack which fluttered over the tent of my companion, who was acting as consul, would often seem to wave on a field of its native blue. But in the evening there is produced a combination of elements, at once much softer and much sterner than the setting of our English scenes. The spirit of Scythia, of the frozen North, meets the languid Mediterranean spirit, and spreads a robe of fire and paleness over the sea. Only the cypresses and the luxuriant foliage preserve the identity of the sinuous bays; and the succession of meridional ridges which feature the coast towards Cape Ieros are clothed with a forest of trees, fretting the splendour of the western sky.

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTE

For the topography and antiquities of Trebizond I would refer the student who may be desirous of going more closely into the subject to the following works:--Ritter, Erdkunde von Asien, vol. xviii. pp. 852 seq.; and in particular to the following authorities, cited by Ritter, viz. Travels of Evliya, translated by von Hammer, London 1850, vol. ii. pp. 41 seq.; Tournefort, Voyage du Levant, Paris 1717, vol. ii. pp. 233 seq.; Hamilton, Researches in Asia Minor, etc., London 1842, vol. ii. appendix v. p. 409 (inscription No. 49, over the gateway); Fallmerayer, J. P., Fragmente aus dem Orient, 2nd edition, Stuttgart 1877, with which should be read the Original-Fragmente of the same author, published in the Abhandlungen of the Academy of Munich (Hist. Classe), vols. iii. and iv., 1843-44. Fallmerayer was the first to investigate the subject in an adequate manner; his descriptions are charmingly written; and, while I have availed myself freely in composing a part of this chapter of the results of his researches, I must also acknowledge having come under the spell of his personality (for a slight biography of the historian see Mitterrutzner, Fragmente aus dem Leben des Fragmentisten, Brixen 1887).

Among those who have advanced our knowledge of the place since Ritter wrote I would cite the following:--Texier, 1839, Description de l'Arménie, etc., Paris 1842, two vols. folio, with plates (see also the magnificent work by Texier and Pullan, L'Architecture Byzantine, London 1864); Pfaffenhoffen, Essai sur les aspres Comnénats ou blancs d'argent de Trébizonde, Paris 1847; Finlay, Mediæval Greece and the Empire of Trebizond (vol. iv. of History of Greece, revised edition, Oxford 1877); Tozer, Turkish Armenia, London 1881, pp. 450 seq. I have also had access to a book in Armenian which was shown to me at Trebizond, and which is entitled: History of Pontus, by the Rev. Father Minas Bejeshkean (Mekhitarist), a native of Trebizond, Venice 1819. [7]

The plans which accompany this chapter were made at the close of my second journey by kind permission of the Turkish Government, and after I had already perused the accounts of my predecessors. There is one point in connection with the topography which one would like to feel sure about, namely, upon what eminence in the neighbourhood the statue of Hadrian was set up. I fancy it must have been erected on the Karlik Tepe, a bold peak about four miles south of the town, commanding a magnificent view. A small chapel now stands upon the summit.

The history of the empire of the Grand-Comneni of Trebizond forms a most instructive episode in the immemorial struggle between the East and the West. It was Fallmerayer who may be said to have given this history as a new possession to knowledge in his admirable Geschichte des Kaiserthums von Trapezunt, Munich 1827, followed by the Original-Fragmente, cited above. These sources have been utilised by Finlay in his History of Greece and Trebizond; but it is to be regretted that Fallmerayer himself did not rewrite his Geschichte after his later discoveries of new and important material. The outline of the subject may, perhaps, be presented in the following brief notice.

The further one pursues one's studies of the countries west of India, whether in the camp or in the library, the larger looms the stately fabric of the Roman Empire of the East, and the more is felt the need of a work dealing comprehensively with this great subject. Our historians have allowed their interest to be absorbed by Europe; upon Asia and the rule of the Cæsars over some of the fairest portions of her vast territories for a period, which, commencing with the Roman Republic, may be said to extend down to the suppression of the despots of Trebizond by the Ottoman Turks in the latter half of the fifteenth century, they have scarcely bestowed more than an impatient glance. The period covers the bloom and fall of at least six great Asiatic dynasties--the Arsakids, Sasanians, Arab caliphs, Seljuk Turks, shahs of Kharizme, Tartar khans. It comes to an end among the ruins of Asiatic prosperity, when the Turkomans are pasturing their flocks among the débris of civilisation, and the Ottoman sultans, deriving their origin from a nomad Turkish tribe, are being carried to their zenith by the former subjects of the Cæsars, severed in the corps of Janissaries from their Western culture and Christian religion, and living only with the breath of their Mohammedan and Oriental king. This startling revolution in the political and economical condition of Asia, the effects of which are operative at the present day, may be traced back to the decisive blow which was struck at the Roman Empire of the East by the victory of the Seljuk sultan, Alp Arslan, over the Cæsar Romanus near Melazkert in Armenia in the year 1071. The three centuries of imperial rule in Asia which succeeded this event reveal few and spasmodic interruptions to the inclined plane of Western relapse. Then the darkness finally closes in; Constantinople falls (1453), and Western commerce is expelled from the Black Sea.

The empire of Trebizond takes its place in this great tragedy of history when the end is already in view. In the same year and the same month in which the Latins took Constantinople and the nobility of the imperial capital fled to the cities of Asia (April 1204), two youthful scions of the illustrious House of Comnenus appeared at the head of a body of Georgian mercenaries before the gates of Trebizond. The Comneni, whose name perhaps reveals an Italian origin, emerge into the light of history in the latter part of the tenth century, from a private station among the Greek nobility of Asia, where their hereditary estate was situated near Kastamuni, a town in the interior, which one may reach at the present day by a carriageable road from the port of Ineboli on the Black Sea. Manuel Comnenus, the first to bring fame to the family, was prefect of all the East under the Cæsar, Basil the Second (in 976); and his son, the scholarly Isaac Comnenus, was chosen by his contemporaries to occupy the imperial throne. The nephew of Isaac, the Emperor Alexius Comnenus (r. 1081-1118), is well known for the part which he played during the crusading era; and he was followed on the Byzantine throne by two of the most martial figures of that age of heroes, Kalo-Joannes (r. 1118-43) and Manuel (r. 1143-80). Manuel was succeeded by his cousin Andronicus Comnenus (r. 1182-85), an emperor who did much to purify the corrupt provincial administration of the Byzantine monarchy, and who perished in a domestic revolution, due to his severe measures against the high nobility. The murder of this prince was followed at no long interval by the Latin conquest of the capital; and the two Comneni who came to Trebizond in 1204 were sons of Manuel, son and heir to Andronicus, who had also perished in the aforesaid revolution.

Their names were Alexius and David; and they were assisted in their enterprise by their paternal aunt, Thamar, the offspring of their grandfather and a Georgian lady. The political condition of Trebizond during the interval between the murder of Andronicus and the Latin conquest of the capital is not definitely known; but the Greek city was probably feeling the pressure of the neighbouring kingdom of Georgia at the time of the advent of the two Greek princes. The prospects of relief, on the one hand, from this pressure, and, on the other, from dependence upon the rotten court of Constantinople under the hopeful rule of an illustrious family, must have operated as powerful inducements to the townspeople to welcome the new régime. Alexius Comnenus is accepted as master of the city, and his rising fortunes attract to his victorious standard some of the noblest of the refugees from the capital, flying into Asia before the Latins. Others range themselves round the person of Theodore Laskaris in Bithynia; and two rival Greek or Roman empires are established upon Asiatic soil, that of Nicæa, or Nice, the capital of Bithynia, and the empire of Trebizond.

The successors of Laskaris fought their way back to Constantinople, which was recovered from the Latin barons in 1261. A much less splendid fate was reserved for the family of Alexius Comnenus; yet the little empire on the Black Sea survived the restored Byzantine Empire; and a space of nearly a hundred years separates the fall of the last of the Greek cities of the interior (conquest of Philadelphia by the Sultan Bayazid in 1390) from the overthrow of the rule of the Comneni at Trebizond (1461). During a period of over 250 years these petty Greek princes contrived to elude the storms of Mussulman conquest behind the wall of mountains interposed between the interior and the coast. Sometimes as vassals of the Oriental dynasties, at other times in a state of independence, they ruled over the beautiful city and a narrow strip of seaboard of varying extent. Their possessions even included a part of the Crimea, of which the tribute was conveyed across the expanse of waters in the imperial galleys. Proud of their pompous titles of Grand-Comneni and Emperors of the Romans, or lords of all Anatolia, Georgia, and the Transmarine, they supplied their deficiencies in real power by elaborate ceremonials, and substituted the gorgeous cult of their patron saint, Eugenius, for the devotional exercises of the Christian religion. They might be consigned without regret to the limbo of history, were it not for the cause of which they were the late and debased representatives, but which, nevertheless, they contributed to sustain. Their territory afforded a home and holding ground to commerce; and, when the land routes through Asia Minor fell into disuse owing to the increase of anarchy, Trebizond became an emporium of the trade with the further Asia, diverted to the more secure avenue of the Armenian plains. This trade was conducted with great spirit by the Genoese from their factories at Trebizond, until Grand-Comneni, Italian merchants, and all the apparatus of civilisation were swept away by the Ottoman sultan, Mohammed the Second (1451-81). This type of Oriental exclusiveness came marching across the mountains some years after his conquest of Constantinople (1453). The citadel of Trebizond was given over to the Janissaries, the palace to a pasha; the last of the Comneni was transported to an exile in Europe, whence, not long afterwards, he was summoned to the capital and commanded to abjure the Christian faith. The firmness of his refusal and the dignity of his martyrdom cast a parting ray of glory through the shadows which had already closed upon his House. His body and those of the princes who died with him were thrown to the dogs beyond the walls of Constantinople. Only one-third of the inhabitants of Trebizond, and these the dregs of the populace, were suffered to remain in their native city. The remainder were compelled to emigrate, and their estates were confiscated. In 1475 the policy of expulsion of all Western influences was crowned by the Ottoman occupation of Caffa and Tana, the more northerly depôts of the Genoese in the Black Sea. European ships were expelled from these waters; where trade was banished ensued barbarism; and for three centuries these shores were forgotten by the West. A new era found expression in the Treaty of Adrianople (1829), which secured the free navigation of this sea. The first steamer made her appearance in 1836, and since then commerce has steadily increased. It flows along the shore, to be distributed throughout the interior, until it reaches the solid barrier of the Russian frontier. It is carried across Asia just outside that barrier on the backs of camels and mules. On the far side of the wall is heard the whistle of the locomotive, and the rumble of a train which not a bale of the hated products of European industry is permitted to invade.

Let the progressive states of modern Europe take heed lest their domestic rivalries result in the conversion of the Black Sea into a Russian lake, and the re-establishment of the old and melancholy order.