Chapter VI: Preface (6)

The Great Bazaar, or Charschey, was erected by Mohamed II. when he took possession of Constantinople, and began to change its character from a European to an Asiatic city, by introducing the edifices and usages of the East. It was afterwards re-edified by his successors, and its parts distinguished by Eski and Yeni, the Old and the New Bazaar. They now consist of long avenues covered over with lofty arches of brick, lighted by apertures in the roof, and branching off in various directions. The ceilings of the vaults, and other parts of the walls, are painted with various flowers and devices. On each side of the passage are counters, or stalls, ranged along, leaving a wide way between. On the counter of each stall the merchant sits, generally smoking a chibouque, or narghillai, with his crossed legs drawn under him. If he be distinguished by a calpac, or inverted cone, upon his head, or a large snow-white turban, he is either an Armenian or a Turk; so he quietly abides his time, and suffers you to pass with imperturbable gravity, seldom condescending to ask your custom. If he wear a cross-barred handkerchief, twisted round the crown of a hat, or a coarse muslin wound about a red fez, he is either a Jew or a Greek, and is as importunate with you to buy as a salesman in Monmouth-street. Behind him, his larger wares are ranged against the walls, and his smaller in clumsy glass-cases beside him on the counter, where all articles are confounded in a heap. In his rear is generally a low door, opening into a small room in the thickness of the walls, where his unexposed goods are stored.

These edifices, filled with light and inflammable goods, are liable to danger from the constant fires which occur at Constantinople, though they are in some measure protected by their construction, and the thickness of the walls. When fires have penetrated, they have been attended with the most awful consequences. It has happened that both ends of the covered way have been blazing at once, and all egress prevented to the crowd within, and hundreds have miserably perished, either consumed or suffocated in these vaults of fire. In order to guard against this, no smoking, or light of any kind, is allowed: notwithstanding this, the inveterate propensity of the Turk is not to be controlled, and, relying on his unalterable destiny, he is often seen with the glowing bowl of his pipe thrust among the inflammable materials of his counter. Every evening at sunset, the bazaar is closed with iron gates, and the merchants having locked up their wares behind certain partitions drawn before them, are seen wending their way in groups to the several quarters of the city in which each class is located−-the Jew to Galata, the Greek to the Fanar, the Armenian to Ypsomathia, and the Turk to various quarters.

Under cover at all times, and protected from wind, rain, and sun, this bazaar is the resort of crowds every day and all day long. In the heats of summer it is particularly agreeable. People escape from the burning atmosphere, and an exposed unsheltered street, to this retreat. It then resembles a subterranean city, crowded with a busy population of many thousand persons, bustling, buying, and selling in the cool and dim twilight. But the fair sex form by far the majority. It seems a privileged place, where the ordinary distinction of sect or caste is laid aside, and the Turk, Frank, and Raya, all mix and chat and bargain together without restraint; and it seems the only place where the pride and taciturnity of the Osmanli is laid aside. At the entrance are crowds of poor Jews, who proffer their services to conduct you to what you want, and carry home what you purchase.

The first attraction is generally a perfume-stall. Here attar of roses, essence of lemon, extract of jasmine, pastiles of odoriferous gums, which, when ignited, fill the air with their aromatic scent, are presented to your choice. The last are particularly recommended, as used by the ladies of the seraglio, who burn them in their pipe-bowls. But of all the singular perfumes presented to you, are rats’-tails. An animal of this species is endued with musky secretions, and its tail yields a strong scent, which it retains for an indefinite term. All these and many more odoriferous delicacies, which a Turk prizes, are presented to you; and to induce you to buy, your hands, lips, hair, whiskers, and cravat, are bedewed with them all, and you go forth redolent with animal and vegetable odours. The next attraction is the shoe-bazaar. Here the varied display of _imeh_ and _papoosh_, boots and slippers, is very dazzling: a Turk never wears a boot without a slipper. The first are red or yellow morocco, without soles, but sewed below into a pointed bag, into which the foot is first forced; and then, with the boot, into the slipper. The gait of both men and women, thus encumbered, is singularly awkward and helpless. The feet scrape the ground, and the sole of the slipper, which scarcely adheres to the point of the toe, is dragged along, continually flapping against the heel. These characteristic parts of Oriental dress are the particular objects of Frank purchasers. The slippers are made of all materials, and braided with all kinds of embroidery in gold and silver, and often ornamented with pearls and precious stones. In this department are found drinking-cups of untanned leather, and mirrors with morocco frames.

But by far the most attractive display is the pipe department, and the variety of chiboques. It is here the fancy of a Turk luxuriates, and loves to exhibit itself with a dexterity shown in nothing else. The implement consists of three separate parts−-tube, bowl, and mouth-piece--in each of which there is an endless variety of shape, size, and material. The most favourite wood for the first is cherry-tree brought from Trebisond, rose-wood and jasmine, sometimes extending to the length of ten or twelve feet. When you choose your rod, the artist pierces it with the aid of his toe, a member he uses with more skill than his finger. The bowl is a red earth, found and manufactured at Burgaz, highly gilt and polished. The mouth-piece is generally amber, imported by Armenians from the Baltic. This is prized above all materials, not only for its beauty, but for its qualities. It is supposed to be unsusceptible of the contagion of the plague; and when that disease is raging, and every man shrinks from contact with his neighbour, the amber chiboque passes from mouth to mouth without any apprehension of pestilent saliva. A pipe is sometimes ornamented with precious stones, and, with the tobacco-bag glittering with spangles, varies in price from 10 to 1000 piastres, according to the workmanship. Besides these and other articles peculiarly Turkish, clothing, stuffs, carpets, shawls, &c. are displayed, and among them the highly-prized manufactures of Manchester.

[Illutration: T. Allom. S Lacey.

THE ATMEIDAN, OR HIPPODROME; AND MOSQUE OF ACHMET.

WITH THE COLUMN OF CONSTANTINE AND EGYPTIAN OBELISK.]

The word _meidan_ signifies “a place,” and corresponds with the sense in which we use the latter term in our towns. There are many so called in Constantinople, but the most distinguished is the Atmeidan, or “Place of the Horse.” It was, under the Greek empire, called _Hippodrome_, which implies a horse-course. The Turks applied it to the same purpose, and translated the Greek appellation into their own language. It is described in the most gorgeous manner by the writers of the lower empire, as ornamented with marble colonnades, and surrounded by seats like an amphitheatre, where the courses were observed by the spectators. These things have disappeared under the Turks, and it is now a naked oblong area, with a very ruinous and neglected aspect. It has, however, still its attractions. It is almost the only open and airy public space within the walls of the city, and it is the only spot where the very few ornaments of this great capital, now extant, are to be seen in their original site and form.

The present area is an irregular quadrangle, about 260 yards long, and 150 wide. It is bounded on one side by the mosque of Sultan Achmet, from which it is separated only by an open screen, and from it this beautiful edifice, with its six elegant minarets, appears to the greatest advantage. On the others, by large but mean edifices, one of which is the menagerie of the Turkish empire. Among the gifts expected from the pasha of a distant province, are specimens of its wild animals; and lions, tigers, and other beasts are here enclosed and exhibited, as formerly in the tower of London. Among the animals here in the time of Busbequius, was an extraordinary elephant, which, he affirmed, “could dance and play ball.” They are not confined to cages, but allowed to walk about in large caverns, where the solitary magnificence of the animal would be strikingly exhibited, were it not that the foul odour exhaled from putrid offals, on which they feed, repels a stranger with insuperable disgust.

Down the centre are seen the splendid remains of the Greek empire. The first is the granite obelisk, still in high preservation, brought from the Thebaïd to Rome, and from thence to ornament the new city of Constantine. It is supported on brazen globes, resting on a sculptured pedestal bearing an inscription implying that it was erected by Theodosius. On one face is sculptured the machines by which the obelisk was raised to its present site, and is a curious display of the mechanical powers at that time in use. A singular circumstance occurred at its erection, which has since that time furnished an extraordinary auxiliary to mechanical powers. When the ponderous block was raised as high as the combination of cords and pulleys could draw it, it was found to want one inch of elevation to place it on the pedestal. The emperor and all the spectators supposed the labour and expense lost, and the case hopeless; when the ingenious artist who had undertaken to raise it, caused water to be thrown upon the cords by which the obelisk was suspended: an immediate contraction of the fibres took place, the cords shortened, and the immense weight was quietly raised to its place without any other mechanical Contrivance. Another is that called the Colossus: it was once covered with dense brass plates; and a Greek couplet on the pedestal, described what it formerly was, and the reason of its name−-

“A brazen wonder of colossal size,
Which Rhodes could boast−-lo! here is seen to rise.”

But the Turks have belied the inscription. They have carefully picked off the brass plates for their trifling value, and left nothing but an unsightly shaft of masonry and mortar in which they were embedded. But the most valuable remnant of antiquity existing here, or perhaps in any other country, is a colossal brazen twisted serpent, which once had a triple head, from whence issued wine, water, and milk. It had formed a shrine at Delphi, on which were placed the golden tripod and patera presented to the god of the temple by the Greeks, to commemorate the victories in the Persian war, and was removed to Constantinople as one of the most valuable remains of ancient art and historic recollection. It was so highly prized, that the Turks considered it as the talisman that protected the Greek empire; and when Mohammed entered the devoted capital in triumph, he struck off one of the heads with his battle-axe, to destroy, as it were, the delusion. It is now a truncated stump, and constantly battered with stones by the Turks, as if their ancient superstition and prejudice yet existed.

The illustration represents the present state of the Hippodrome, and gives an idea of its ancient use. The Turks have no trials of equestrian skill like those of the Greeks; but here they usually exercise their horses, and throw the _djerid_, a wooden pointless spear, which they cast to a distance, and catch as it recoils from the ground, with considerable dexterity. On one side is the palace of Ibrahim Pasha, now the head-quarters of the cavalry staff, who are seen among the equestrians.

THE MOSQUE OF SANTA SOPHIA AND FOUNTAIN OF THE SERAGLIO.]

When Constantine dedicated his great city to Christ, he thought it right to erect in it a suitable edifice for Christian worship, on a scale of magnificence commensurate with his capital; he therefore built one of the first public temples, to the new faith, that had been permitted since the destruction of Christian churches and the extirpation of their congregations by the decree of Diocletian, and he dedicated it to the Ἁγία σοφία, “the Holy and Eternal Wisdom of God,” as manifested in his blessed Son. During the discordant schisms which unhappily rent the Christian church, this splendid structure was reduced to a state of ruin, and it was reserved for the emperor Justinian to re-edify it. He had the old foundations cleared away, and purchased, at a considerable expense, a larger area on which to erect it. To obtain funds for the purpose, he suspended the pensions he had granted to learned men, and melted down the silver statue of Theodosius the Great, which weighed 7400 lb. Ten thousand men were employed, whose exertions were stimulated by encouragements and rewards. The emperor himself appeared among them, and paid them every night, in pieces of silver, for the work they had executed during the day. He was seen divested of his imperial robes, in a simple tunic of linen, examining their progress, and applauding and conferring gifts on the most expert and industrious artisans. In five years and eleven months, the vast building was completed; and when he had thus accomplished his splendid undertaking, he exclaimed with exultation, “I have conquered thee, O Solomon.” The city was at that time so subject to earthquakes, that private houses were generally constructed of wood, to obviate their destructive effects. This magnificent work had scarcely been completed, when it was shattered by one of those rude and frequent shocks; but the indefatigable emperor again repaired the shaken ruins. From some unknown physical cause, the violent concussions ceased to shake the place, so that slight and scarcely perceptible shocks occur only at intervals of many years; and the church of Santa Sophia is now as it was left by the last re-edification of Justinian.

When the Turks entered the city, they rushed to this building, to massacre or make slaves of all who took refuge there; they then proceeded to demolish it, as the most eminent place of infidel worship. In this critical moment, the sultan entered, and arrested the destruction just as it had commenced. He announced, that he gave to his soldiers the plunder of spoil and captives, but the public edifices he reserved to himself. He at once conceived the idea of converting this magnificent Christian church into a Mohammedan mosque; and as he had transferred the government of the Osmanli to the most splendid capital, so the worship of Islam should be celebrated in the most splendid edifice in the world. In order to accommodate the interior to the new rites, the effigies and pictures which covered the walls were erased, and all trace of such representations was effaced by a simple and uniform colouring: the arms of the cross were, with little violence of alteration, bent up into the form of a crescent; and, to silence the sound of a bell, so revolting to the followers of the Prophet, he caused a minaret to be erected at an angle, to invite the faithful to prayer by the sound of the human voice; and having thus purified it from what he supposed to be superstitious and idolatrous emblems, he sat down cross-legged in the sanctuary, and caused himself to be shaved there. He then ordered the Koran to be read in place of the Bible, offered up his prayers, and finally suspended the curtain that had once closed the door of the temple at Mecca. He made no further alteration in the Christian church, and it remains as it was left by Justinian, unchanged for 1300 years, the most perfect and splendid monument of the arts of the Lower Empire.

The general model of a Christian church was that of a cross; the stem represented by the nave, the cross by the transepts, and the upper part by the choir: but from the inequality of the parts, the western churches laboured under a disproportion from which the eastern were exempt. The arms of the Greek cross are all of equal length, and Santa Sophia is built on its model; it has therefore a symmetry which the Latin churches have not, though founded on the same symbol. The ground-plan is that of a cross enclosed in a square whose sides measure 243 feet, but, including the portico, its length is 269. Over the centre of the cross rises the dome. This dome is called “aërial,” because it is so constructed that its height is only one-sixth of its diameter, and its curve so flat that its convexity seems to correspond with that of the sky, and be a portion only of the great firmament, let down, and suspended, as the Greeks say, by a chain. To effect this, it is built of materials of the least possible gravity, pumice-stone, specifically lighter than the water on which it floats, and bricks from Rhodes five times less weighty than those of ordinary burnt clay. The vast dome, thus reduced in weight, is further secured by the pillars on which it rests. These are ponderous piles of freestone, made of blocks hewn into cubes and triangles, united by huge cramps of iron. It is partly by this judicious distribution of its materials, that the vast edifice has stood so long unshaken by those shocks of earthquakes, which have prostrated so many other edifices in the same period.

The mosque is entered by a portico twelve yards in breadth; this communicates with another by nine gates with marble arches, closed by valves of rich bronze cast in high relief: this opens into another parallel to it. These vestibules formed what is called the narthex, or pronaos, of the Greek Christian church. Here stood the font where catechumens were baptized, and penitents were placed before they presumed, or were deemed worthy to enter the naos, or body, of the sacred edifice. From hence they passed into the interior by five doors of plain bronze.

The first object that strikes, on entering the body of the edifice, is the vast aërial dome, rising to the height of 180 feet above the flooring, reposing on four massive arches, forming the segments of semi-domes, and supported by others still less. The dome is perforated by twenty-six windows, and a multitude of others appear in the perspective. On each side are colonnades supporting galleries, one of which was reserved for the emperor, and called the Gallery of Constantine. Round the base of the dome runs another gallery, at a great elevation. It is splendidly illuminated during the evenings of the Ramazan and other Turkish festivals, and produces a magnificent effect. Different parts of the edifice are supported by 104 pillars, amongst which are eight of porphyry removed by Constantine from the temple of the Sun at Rome, and six of green jasper from the temple of Diana at Ephesus. The sun was the tutelary deity of the emperor while he continued a heathen; when he adopted a better, he removed those ornaments of the temples both of Apollo and Diana, to enrich the temple of Christ. The walls and domes are encrusted with mosaic, which forms various figures and devices. They have been nearly obliterated by the Turks. There yet remain, however, great winged seraphims in the four angles under the central dome, whose faces are mutilated because they represented the human countenance. The rest are covered over with Arabic inscriptions from the Koran, and among them the 104 attributes of Allah, which every Turk is bound to repeat over in his daily prayers. The mosaic of the dome is constantly falling from its cement, and is found to consist of small cubes about the size of playing-dice, of various-coloured glass, which the imaums collect and sell to Franks, who have them formed and set in crosses, and thus commemorate that faith for which the mosque was originally built.

Passing under the great dome, and opposite the vestibule, is the semi-dome which forms the termination of the temple. Here was the high altar of the Christian church; behind it, the sanctuary, separated by a screen from the body of the edifice. This sacred place is now the Mehrabé, where the Koran is deposited. The ground-plan annexed to the map will convey a better idea of these localities than any description.

The exterior of this interesting edifice is singularly heavy, and, as a celebrated French traveller says, _furieusement lourde en dehors_. It exhibits an irregular mass of cupolas, half-domes, shelving roofs, and stunted minarets; one of which, more mean than the rest, is the identical one erected by Mahomet to convert the church into a mosque. Even the great dome, so celebrated for its architectural beauty, and which the Turks have never yet been able to imitate, looks low and flat when viewed on the outside, and produces nothing of that “aërial” effect, in comparison to its internal structure. The edifice has at length begun to exhibit symptoms of decay. About six years ago, after a continued storm of wind and rain, one of the smaller domes fell into the church. On clearing away the surface of rubbish, the flooring was found covered over with glittering cubes which had formed the ceiling, and, in such abundance, that every one was supplied with as much as he chose to take for a trifling gratuity.

The Turks regard this mosque with a veneration and jealousy greater than any other. It is not always difficult to obtain admission to the rest, and generally the area in which they are placed is a thoroughfare, through which a Frank may pass unmolested, but the foot of an infidel is never suffered to desecrate, a second time, the precincts of this converted temple: if he attempt to approach, he is always driven back with abuse. The only occasion when permission is given to see it, is when an ambassador arrives, or is about to leave Constantinople. As a special favour, a firman is granted to him and a certain number of his suite, who are then, only, permitted to enter without molestation. But even this is not always a protection against the fanaticism of individuals. Secretaries to embassies, accompanied by their ladies, have been insulted and assaulted with the sultan’s firman in their hands.

[Ilustration: T. Allom. G. Presbury.

EYOUB SULTAN,--FOUNTAIN AND STREET OF TOMBS.]

The Turks recognize three persons distinguished by the name of Eyoub, or Job, and confound them together, with little regard to time or place. One was the patriarch of Uz, whose character resembles that given in our Bible, with some variations. The Koran and its commentators say, that his wife so overcame his patience, that he beat her with a palm branch; but, in recompense, when he was restored to health, she was restored to youth and beauty: and further, that Allah gave back his property in a summary manner, by raining down on his threshing-floor gold and silver, from two clouds sent for that purpose. Another was one of the captains of Alexander the Great, and also one of Solomon’s household. He was called Chederles, and his achievements resemble those of our St. George and the Dragon, as they are represented in the Christian churches of the East. Him they call Eyoub, or _Job infari_. The third, and him to whom the mosque is dedicated, is Abu Eyoub. When the Prophet was in peril, he was succoured by certain persons from Medina, who were there called Ansars, or “Auxiliaries.” One of them was named Job, or Eyoub, who became afterwards the personal companion of the Prophet. When it was determined to destroy the Christian capital of the Romans in Europe, a plenary indulgence of sins was promised to all the faithful who should proceed to accomplish that object, and the Ansar Eyoub set an example by enrolling himself in the Saracen army, which set out for that purpose in the year 672. He fell, with many thousands of his countrymen, before the walls of Constantinople, and received a magnificent funeral. His memory was had in veneration by the majority of his people, but the particular spot where his body was laid had unfortunately been forgotten, nor was it till after the lapse of 750 years that it was discovered. It was revealed by a vision, and, to identify the sacred spot for all posterity, a mosque was erected over it by Mahomet II., in which every succeeding monarch was to receive his inauguration.

When a sultan succeeds to the throne, instead of the ceremony of European sovereigns, placing a crown on the head, his dignity is conferred by the more appropriate one of girding a sword on the thigh. To this end, the mufti, vizir, and other officers, on horseback, assemble at the seraglio, from whence, accompanied by the sultan, they proceed to the mosque of Eyoub. When they arrive, some celebrated imaum delivers a discourse, exciting the sultan to the vigorous propagation of Islamism and the extirpation of infidels. This he swears on the Koran to do, and then, ascending a marble tribune, the mufti approaches, and girds on a sword, to enable him to perform his promise. From hence the cortege proceeds to the harbour, where a splendid vessel awaits, and the commander makes a bridge of his back, over which the sultan embarks. He then sails to the arsenal, and, while reposing there on a divan prepared for him, he finds a large purse under the cushion, which he receives as the first offering of his faithful subjects. He finally retires to his harem, where he remains several days to repose himself. Modern usage has neglected many ancient ceremonies of the inauguration, but girding on the sword at Eyoub is immutable and indispensable, and never omitted.

The Mausoleum and Mosque are seen enclosed in trees; the former is built of pure marble, the windows covered with gilded lattice, through which is seen the sacred tomb inside, consisting of a catafalque, surmounted with the supposed turban of the deceased. The mosque is a plain edifice, consisting only of a single dome with minarets. The walls of the interior are lined with marble, and the floor covered with carpets. Among the relics preserved is a fragment of marble, having impressed upon it the imprint of the Prophet’s foot, which the yielding stone received and preserved as a miracle. The tomb is surmounted by a railing of silver: near it is a sacred well, supplied by a stream, which confers immortality on those who drink it; but its course is hidden at present from mortal eye, and will only be revealed when man, unstained by sin, shall be worthy to taste it. A small portion of its virtues only is permitted to trickle into the well, which is endued with many salutary qualities. The precious water, therefore, is drawn up with silver buckets, and presented to the faithful in silver goblets. Round this, and every water of such reputed virtue, the person healed hangs up a part of his dress as a _votiva tabula_: and these rags of superstition are seen over holy wells in Turkey, as they are in Africa, Ireland, and other parts of the world.

The mosque and tomb of Eyoub are situated beyond the district called Blachernæ, on the west side of the harbour, near its head. The richness and fertility of the alluvial soil confer on this district a singular exuberance of vegetation. Nothing can exceed the luxuriance with which trees and fruits in their season blossom and mature in this place. Here flowers exhale the most delicious perfume, and the nightingale is heard to warble its sweetest notes, as if Allah had conferred upon the resting-place of a favourite all the richness of nature. In the midst of this rise the mosque and tomb of the Ansar, forming part of a street, composed of charitable or religious edifices, embosomed in the shade of a majestic cypress. Then there are the haunts of the turtle-doves, who flock to this sequestered place, as one suited to their nature; and their gentle cooing fills the air with a pensive and congenial sound, adding considerably to the effect of the solemn objects around them. These sacred edifices are held in such veneration, and so guarded from desecration, that an infidel is repelled from them with even more jealousy than from the precincts of Santa Sophia.

The time chosen for the Illustration is the return of the sultan from the mosque, after the ceremony of girding on the sword has been performed. Beside him, as supporters, are two Bin Bashis, or colonels of Ortas, in the old Janissary corps. These men wear, as part of their official dress, helmets of an enormous height, with a profusion of horse-hair plumes. This singular costume, the Turks say, is intended to conceal the person of the new sovereign from the aim of an assassin, should an attempt be made upon his life.

THE VALLEY OF UNKIAR ISKELESSI, OR--THE SULTAN’S STAIRS.

IN WHICH THE CELEBRATED TREATY WITH RUSSIA WAS SIGNED.]

The most extraordinary title bestowed upon a sovereign is that which the Turks have conferred upon their own. They do not, when they speak of him, call him padescha or sultan, but _Hunkair_, which signifies “the manslayer,” and conveys, in one word, the sense they entertain of the absolute power he is supposed to possess over the lives and properties of his subjects, and the arbitrary manner in which he sometimes exercises it. The Turks confer it as a title of dignity, which conveys no reflection on the personal character; but during the revolution, the Greeks changed it to _Kassapi_, “the butcher,” conveying the same idea of a homicide, but meant as a term of bitter reproach.

On the shores of the Bosphorus, opposite Therapia, on the Asiatic side, is one of those lovely, and extensive valleys, which open on the strait, and add so much to its beauty. Here the sultans possessed a kiosk, to which they sometimes retired for recreation; and for their accommodation, a scala, or slip, was constructed on which they landed from the caïque: hence the valley has been called _Hunkair iskellesi_, or “the landing-place of the Manslayer;” an appellation rendered famous by the treaty recently made there.

This noble valley is distinguished by other circumstances. When Sultan Selim wished to excite a literary feeling among his subjects, and a printing-press was reared at Scutari, he converted his kiosk in this place into a manufactory, to supply it with paper. When first established, its arrangements corresponded with its former use, and its princely founder. The reservoirs for water were ornamented marble basins; and the whole gave the idea of a sultan’s palace given up for a mechanic’s workshop, and excited a feeling of respect and admiration for the enlightened and patriotic prince who had surrendered his splendid dwelling and delightful retreat for such a purpose.

Paper is an article to which a Turk annexes a certain degree of sanctity, and beyond that which it claims for its ordinary use. It is that on which, they say, the sacred name of Allah is written, and they never suffer it to be defiled, or used for any unworthy purpose. Wherever they see a fragment of it lying about, they carefully take it up, and throw it into some receptacle. It is often seen, in this way, stuffed into any hole or crevice in a wall which may present itself. With the same feeling, they have not yet suffered their Koran to be printed. They think it a profanation of the name of God, to have it squeezed, as it must be, in the press. The more sensible, however, assign what they consider a more reasonable cause. They call their sacred books, as we do, the Scriptures, or “Writings;” and, with an adherence to the mere letter, they say they could no longer be _scriptures_, if suffered to be printed.

The eminence on the right is the Jouchi Daghi, or “Giant’s Mountain,” impending over the valley. The reason assigned for this name is a singular one. Among the many persons of our Scriptures, recognized by the Koran, is Joshua the son of Nun; to whom its commentators attribute an immense stature. They affirm that he was sent against the Roum or Greek infidels, whom he defeated in a battle, during which the sun went down in his ordinary course, but immediately rose again; so they could not be saved. It was his custom to sit on this mountain, and bathe his feet in the waters of the Bosphorus below; and when he died, they could find no place large enough on the hill for his grave, so they buried only one of his feet. These extravagant fictions they support by two authorities. There is a dervish mosque on the summit, and a large enclosure beside it. In the enclosure is a tomb seven yards long, which they show as the evidence of the length of the foot buried there; and on the walls of the mosque is an inscription in Arabic, detailing the history of Joshua, whom they call _Usha ben Nun_. It concludes with a caution to the incredulous: “If any one doubt, let him look to this inscription, and believe.”

A circumstance almost as incredible, in modern times, has rendered the Giant’s Mountain famous. It is now ten centuries since the Russians, in their log-boats, made the first attempt on Constantinople, and their squadrons advanced to the Balkan Mountains. As they became a more civilized and powerful people, the attempts were made with more probability and perseverance; and Peter the Great, having Archangel on the White Sea, and St. Petersburg on the Baltic, conceived the hopes of rounding his vast empire by annexing Constantinople as his southern port, and so commanding all the seas that encircle it. Since that time, the great policy and ambition of the Russians seemed directed to this object; but while all Europe were anxiously watching their hostile approaches, and the desperate struggles of the Turks to resist them, people saw with astonishment a large fleet and an immense army quietly approach the capital, and disembark, not as enemies, but as friends and protectors; and, after an interchange of amity and good will between these deadly enemies, the one departed as peaceably as they came, and the other erected a monument as an everlasting memorial of their visit. It was at this interesting moment the Illustration was made, while the tents of the Russians whitened the mountains above, and the treaty of Hunkair Iskelessi was signed in the valley below. It represents the splendid caïque of the sultan returning from a friendly visit to his new allies, and the crowded boats of the Bosphorus “suspending the dashing oar,” as the homage paid to his passing.

On the left of the picture is the great Aqueduct, striding across the valley of Buyukderé, and leading the waters of the Bendts, or reservoirs, to Pera;--a part of that great hydraulic system, by which the precious and necessary fluid is conveyed from the shores of the Black Sea for the ablutions of the faithful in the great city.

ENTRANCE TO THE BOSPHORUS FROM THE BLACK SEA.

VIEVED FROM THE GIANT’S MOUNTAIN.]

This spot recalls many interesting recollections of mythology, history, and natural phenomena. Here it was the Symplegades opened to invite, and closed to crush, the stranger who dared to intrude on these forbidden seas. Here it was the Greeks entered on the expanse of the Euxine, and disclosed new regions and new sources of wealth to their enterprising countrymen: and here it was the disruptured mountains first gave a passage to the waters of a vast internal ocean, which have continued ever since to pour down with impetuosity through the great chasm. As evidence of the first of these facts, the Cyanean rocks are still seen, but now firmly fixed in immovable positions; the one bound to the European, and the other to the Asiatic shore: as evidence of the last, the debris of a volcano are every where scattered about over a great extent. Besides scoria and rocks in various states of calcification, columns of basalt lie strewed along both shores; and immediately beyond the bay of Cabacos on the Asiatic shore is a basaltic formation of great beauty and regularity, supporting the promontory of Youm Bournou, with a colonnade as regular as that at Staffa in Scotland, or the Giants’ Causeway in Ireland. If, as the Vulcanists say, these are undoubtedly the productions of fire, here are still the proofs of that mighty rupture that formed the Bosphorus. From the awful convulsions connected with it, this entrance to the Bosphorus was called by the Greeks ἱερον, or “the Sacred;” it is now called by the Turks, Boghaz.

Its present aspect presents a singular and beautiful prospect. The blue and limpid Bosphorus, now expanding into bays, and now cooped between promontories, here suddenly expands into an apparently interminable ocean. The promontories which swell out are clothed with a bright and permanent verdure, covered with villages, fortresses, and beacons, whose white walls and battlemented towers crown them with their turreted diadems, and harmonize well with the bright tints of green and blue from sea and land. These are called phanaraki, from phanar, the Greek for light-house, and kui, the Turkish for town. On the most conspicuous eminence is seen a memorial of the enterprising spirit of the Genoese, a dilapidated castle, still in tolerable preservation, which they erected at one end of the Bosphorus, when they built the town of Galata at the other. Over the entrance, and on other parts of the front, are perfect monogrammal inscriptions, which evidently belong to the Greeks of the Lower Empire, whoever were the architects of the edifice.

All parts of these shores command delightful views, and are refreshed by the invigorating breeze which is wafted through the Boghaz from the Euxine, and ventilates this region in the greatest heats of a sultry summer. The thermometer sometimes stands here ten degrees lower than at Pera; and the panting inhabitant of the city escapes with delight, to breathe the bracing air of this cool and refreshing vicinity. The Frank ambassadors, instead of congregating in summer at Belgrade, as in the time of Lady M. W. Montague, have with more taste and judgment fixed their residence here; and Buyukderé is filled with their summer palaces. From this village the high land stretches away in a direction across the Bosphorus, and presents a front to the opening of the Euxine.

Amidst these lovely undulating grounds, so varied in form as to command an extensive prospect, while the observer feels almost unseen, parties of pleasure are continually assembled. No true mussulman is unconscious of nature’s charms, on the contrary, his highest enjoyment is in the contemplation of a solemn, silent, and wide-spread landscape. It is this that attracts such numbers to the agreeable heights of Buyukderé, and pleads an apology for the presence of the old Seraskier and his suite, who are represented as partaking of the rural festivities of this happy, healthy spot.

ANCIENT ARCHWAY & CAVERN IN THE BALKAN MOUNTAINS.]

The extent of country from the Danube to the Propontis, is generally a flat plain, with occasional irregularities of surface, divided by an immense ridge of lofty mountains, rising perpendicularly, like a stupendous wall, and dividing the level space into two nearly equal parts. That on the south side, extending from the mountains to the sea, was called Thrace, and, in modern times, by the Turks, Roum-Eli, or the country of the Romans. That on the north, extending from the mountains to the river Danube, was formerly named Mœsia, but now Bulgaria. This chain of mountains excited the admiration of the ancients, who attributed to it an elevation greater than any mountain in the then known world. They supposed it was the ridge from whence the revolted giants attempted to scale the heavens, and they called it _Hæmus_ from a Greek word signifying “blood,” because one of the impious invaders was slain by a thunderbolt, and the torrent of his gore stained the mountains. They further affirm, that both the Euxine and Ægean seas could be seen at once from its summit. The length of this chain is as remarkable as its height; it extends for more than five hundred miles, one end resting on the Black sea, and the other on the Ægean. It is now called the Balkan, a Turkish or Sclavonian word, which implies difficult defiles, because it opposes a natural rampart to an invading army, and is the most advanced bulwark of Constantinople. For a long time it was considered impassable by any ordinary force, and the Greek and Turkish empire rested in confidence behind it; but a few years only have passed, since the Russians proved its insecurity, and, to the astonishment of Europe, as well as of the Turks, they scaled this mighty barrier, and established themselves at the other side.

Except in a few places, the whole extent of the ridge is impassable−−steep precipices, rugged and abrupt ascents, lofty rocks and impending crags, render the general face of the mountains so difficult, as to repel all attempts to climb them. The chain may be said to consist of three branches; two lower ridges rising at each side parallel to the great one. The intervening valleys are exceedingly beautiful: they form extensive sequestered tracts, shut out, as it were, from the rest of the world, and abounding in every production that the fecundity of nature could supply, or the most elaborate industry produce. Some of these spots exhibit, in the wildness of the descent, all the beauties of a cultivated taste: pure streams of clear water rippling over pebbled beds, skirted by copse-wood, and margined by swards of the richest grass, through which the road winds like a gravel-walk in the young plantations of an English demesne; in other places, expanding into broad meadows filled with sheep and horned cattle, or corn-fields covered with growing grain in various stages. In the midst of these pastoral scenes are many villages of singular appearance; and cottages scattered about without any regularity or arrangement. They are built of wicker-work. An oblong space is marked out, circular at one end, and square at the other; round this area, wattles or short poles are stuck in the ground, and between them, strong willows are interwoven, so as to form a large basket; on this, poles are laid for the roof, or some of the wattles are left long enough to be bent for the purpose. The top is then thatched with straw, and the basket-work plastered with mud of a light grey colour. The entrance is at the square end, where the roof projects considerably, and is supported on pillars, the whole exhibiting a pretty and elegant cottage, with a portico and colonnade in front. The floor is spread with thick striped woollen carpets, on which the family sit by day and sleep by night. In winter the fireplace is supplied with logs set on end, to receive a fire six or seven feet high of blazing wood. Every cottage is secured with a wicker-work enclosure, generally filled with corn-stacks and cattle; and the peasantry of this wild and remote region enjoy a cleanliness, comfort, and abundance, that render them some of the happiest on the continent of Europe. Among other objects of cultivation on the Low Balkans, is the rose which produces the attar, and from hence it is sent to Constantinople, where it is sold in the bazaars, and exported to other countries: the refined and elegant of polished nations becoming indebted to these simple peasants for the richest and most exquisite perfume in nature.

These people were once the most fierce and untractable savages, and the scourge of the Greek empire. They were, and are still called Bulgarians, or Volgarians, from the river Volga, from whose shores they originally migrated to this place; and for centuries they threatened the very existence of the enfeebled state. In the reign of Justinian, they approached the city of Constantinople with fire and sword, but were repulsed by the great Belisarius. After various defeats, they were converted to Christianity, and their subdued and broken spirits, aided by the mild influence of the new religion, produced such an effect, that, instead of the once rude and ferocious mountaineers reported by historians, they are now, though the same race and in the same locality, distinguished for industry, for mildness of disposition among themselves, and kindness and hospitality to strangers. They have extended their population to the plains below, on each side: on the north to the Danube, and on the south nearly to the Propontis; and their manners form a strong contrast to those of the rude and inhospitable Turks, with whom they here mingle.

When a traveller enters a cottage, he is received with smiles and cheerfulness, as if he were one of the family returned home after an absence. The females treat him with that unsuspecting confidence which they would show to a brother, and with a good-will which those who have experienced their hospitality will never forget. The young women are particularly distinguished by their dress. They wear in some parts a blue, and in other a white cloth gown, wide and open at the sleeve and bosom, displaying a snow-white chemise of cotton or linen, tastefully embroidered. This gown is sometimes cinctured with a band and buckle of dressed leather, or bound by a red girdle, to which the cloth skirts are tucked up when dancing, or in other active motions. But that which most distinguishes them is the ornament of the head: it is fancifully dressed, and braided with a great variety of coins of different metals, sometimes so densely strung together, that they form a thick metallic cord of considerable weight, and presenting the edges of the coins. These are esteemed the retecules in which a young lady preserves her marriage portion; and when the pendent purse is broken up, these perforated coins, first used as ornaments, are seen in constant circulation. When a traveller enters a cottage, and demands the rites of hospitality, it is swept and garnished for him, and the carpets laid; and, while he reclines upon it, the belle of the village enters with a white handkerchief in her hand, leading a train of her companions: they form a dance of pleasing movement, and a chorus of sweet voices expressive of welcome. When it is concluded, the fair conductress approaches, and casts her handkerchief into his bosom; this implies a request for a few paras, which is never denied, and “the village train” depart with cheerfulness and modesty.

PASS IN THE BALKAN MOUNTAINS.

BY HAIDHOS.]

In this great and apparently impenetrable chain, five passes have been discovered, each at a considerable distance, by Haidhos, Karabat, Jamboli or Selimno, Kersaulik, and Tâtar-bazaar. Of these, the passes by Haidhos and Tâtar-bazaar are the most picturesque--the one at the east, and the other at the western extremity of the mountains.

From Haidhos the traveller begins to ascend, and, after surmounting the Low Balkans, and passing the lovely valleys between them, finds himself in a deep sequestered vale, surrounded on all sides by mountains. Directly before him is the vast wall of rock, extending interminably both ways, and presenting a perpendicular form ascending to the skies. When close under it, the flank seems suddenly, as it were, torn open by some rupture, presenting a dark chasm, which before was not seen. This he enters beside a rivulet, and for some time descends with it towards the very bowels of the mountain, involved in dim twilight below, and seeing, at an immeasurable distance above, a scarcely describable stripe of blue sky. Ascending, and winding his way, up one side of the chasm, he at length emerges on the summit, and stands on the ridge of the High Balkans, enjoying a prospect, of unparalleled extent and magnificence, of the less elevated hills and plains below. From hence the road proceeds across a kind of table-land, generally enveloped in mist and entangled in morasses, crossed by various ravines and tottering planks, so loosely set as to rise at one end as the traveller presses the other, or by decayed wooden bridges, which frequently break down, and precipitate horse and rider into the abyss below. Reaching the opposite or northern face of the ridge, the way descends to Lopenitza, a Balkan village, after a transit of twenty-seven miles, across the High Balkans, and proceeds to the Danube by Shumla.

ROUTE THROUGH THE BALKAN MOUNTAINS, BY TÂTAR-BAZAAR.

ON THE FRONTIERS OF BULGARIA & ROUMELIA.]

The western pass, by Tâtar-bazaar, presented in the Illustration, is not approached by a chasm so singular and wild as that by Haidhos, but the passage on the summit is of a much more grand and romantic character. The distinct mountains rise into immense cones of splintered schist or granite, indented into clefts and fissures. Sometimes masses of rock rise perpendicularly beside the traveller, between which the road passes, with sharp-pointed tops, of a pyramidal form, and outline so regular, as to make it doubtful whether they are not artificial constructions. The road runs between them, and they stand like “mountain sentinels” placed to guard the pass. The delusion is increased when he arrives in this wild and lofty region at the remains of a great arch of Roman brick, which apparently was one of those pylæ, or mountain-gates, raised, to guard against the incursions of the barbarous hordes from Dalmatia, Dacia, and other places beyond the mountains, who for centuries continued to press and harass the declining Roman empire. Such is the use to which it is at present applied. Here is stationed a Dervenni, or guard of Albanian soldiers, which form part of the cordon of posts, planted in various parts of the ramparts of the chain, when the Russians prepared to ascend and pass it. The Turks, in several parts of their vast empire, both in Europe and Asia, select those points for defence which the Greeks and Romans also appear, by their remains, to have chosen, but they never think of repairing the old gate, or strengthening the pass by new fortifications.

THE BABYSES, OR, SWEET WATERS OF EUROPE.]

Only two rivers flow within many leagues of the great city of Constantinople; they rise at a short distance between it and the Black sea, and wind their way along a valley at the head of the Golden Horn. One of them was formerly called the Cydaris, and now the Bey Low; the other the Babyses, now changed to the Kyatkana Low, or “Water of the Paper Manufactory.” Where they fall into the harbour, the soil is alluvial and marshy, and the quantity of slime collected there induced the ancients to designate it “Marcidem Mare,” “the Putrid Sea.” The French, however, called it, _les Eaux Doux_, because the water was not salt; and the English now denominate it the “Sweet Waters.”

Notwithstanding that the waters are impure, and the high grounds around sterile and denuded, the place possesses many attractions. Higher up the stream, the valley improves, and circumstances have given the locality much celebrity. The paper factory having fallen into ruins, Sultan Selim built a kiosk in its place, in imitation of the palace of Versailles. A mound has been thrown across the river, and the stream detained, so as to form a large and tranquil sheet of water. On its banks stands the kiosk, one side of which is supported by pillars rising out of the water. It was once a favourite residence of Mahmoud II., but a slave, to whom he was greatly attached, died here in the prime of life; and her master having erected a tomb to her memory on the bank, abandoned the place for many years. Time, however, has worn out the impression, and it is again a favourite retreat. At the head of the valley is the _Ocmeidan_, or “Place of the Arrow,” the royal archery-ground; and marble pillars, erected at different distances, attest the Sultan’s skill, and the almost incredible distance to which he can send a shaft. On these occasions, he is attended by his officers, and sometimes the females of his family, in arrhubas: the valley is then shut up with guards, and no stranger permitted to intrude: at other times, it is open to all classes, who come here to rusticate, particularly Greeks, on Sundays and festivals.