On Sundays and holydays the “Sweet
Waters” of Europe are much frequented.
One generally crosses the Golden Horn, into which
the sweet water runs, in a kaik. There is, however,
another way thither across the mountains.
A large grass-plat, surrounded by
trees, is the goal towards which the heaving multitude
pours. Here are to be seen people from all quarters
of the globe, and of all shades of colour, reclining
in perfect harmony on carpets, mats, and pillows,
and solacing themselves, pipe in mouth, with coffee
and sweetmeats. Many pretty Jewesses, mostly
unveiled, are to be seen among the crowd.
On Friday, the holiday of the Turks,
the scene in the Asiatic Sweet Waters is just as animated;
and here there is much more to interest us Europeans,
as the company consists chiefly of Turks, male and
female. The latter have, as usual, their faces
covered: the most beautiful feature, the flaming
eye, is, however, visible.
The trip across the sea to the Asiatic
Sweet Waters is incomparably more beautiful and interesting
than the journey to the European. We travel
up the Bosphorus, in the direction of the Black Sea,
past the splendid new palace of the Sultan.
Though this palace is chiefly of wood, the pillars,
staircases, and the ground-floor, built of marble
of dazzling whiteness, are strikingly beautiful.
The great gates, of gilded cast-iron, may be called
masterpieces; they were purchased in England for the
sum of 8000 pounds. The roof of the palace is
in the form of a terrace, and round this terrace runs
a magnificent gallery, built only of wood, but artistically
carved. We also pass the two ancient castles
which command the approach to Constantinople, and
then turn to the right towards the Sweet Waters.
The situation of this place is most lovely; it lies
in a beautiful valley surrounded by green hills.
Very interesting is also an excursion
to Chalcedonia, a peninsula in the Sea of Marmora,
on the Asiatic side, adjoining Scutari. We were
rowed thither in a two-oared kaik in an hour and a
quarter. The finest possible weather favoured
our trip. A number of dolphins gambolled around
our boat; we saw these tame fishes darting to and
fro in all directions, and leaping into the air.
It is a peculiar circumstance with regard to these
creatures, that they never swim separately, but always
either in pairs or larger companies.
The views which we enjoy during these
trips are peculiarly lovely. Scutari lies close
on our left; the foreground is occupied by mountains
of moderate elevation; and above them, in the far
distance, gleams the snow-clad summit of Olympus.
The uninhabited Prince’s Island and the two
Dog Islands are not the most picturesque objects to
be introduced in such a landscape. To make up
for the disadvantage of their presence we have, however,
a good view of the Sea of Marmora, and can also distinguish
the greater portion of the city of Constantinople.
On Chalcedonia itself there is nothing
to be seen but a lighthouse. Beautiful grass-plats,
with a few trees and a coffee-house, are the chief
points of attraction with the townspeople.
An excursion by sea to Baluklid is
also to be recommended. You pass the entire
Turkish fleet, which is very considerable, and see
the largest ship in the world, the “Mahmud,”
of 140 guns, built during the reign of the late Sultan
Mahmud. Several three-deckers of 120 guns, some
of them unrigged, and many men-of-war mounting from
forty to sixty cannons, lie in the harbour.
For an hour and a half we are riding through the Sea
of Marmora, to the left of the great quay which surrounds
the walls of Constantinople. Here, for the first
time, we see the giant city in all its magnificent
proportions. We also passed the “Seven
Towers,” of which, however, only five remain
standing; the other two, I was told, had fallen in.
If these towers really answer no other purpose than
that of prisons for the European ambassadors during
tumults or in the event of hostilities, I think the
sooner the remaining five tumble down the better; for
the European powers will certainly not brook such
an insult from the Turks, now in the day of their
decline.
We disembarked immediately beyond
the “Seven Towers,” and walked for half
an hour through long empty streets, then out at the
town-gate, where the cypress-grove for a time conceals
from our view a large open space on which is built
a pretty Greek church. I was told that during
the holidays at Easter such riotous scenes were here
enacted that broken heads were far from being phenomena
of rare occurrence. In the church there is a
cold spring containing little fishes. A legend
goes, that on the high days at Easter these poor little
creatures swim about half fried and yet alive, because
once upon a time, when Constantinople was besieged,
a general said that it was no more likely that the
city could be taken than that fishes could swim about
half fried. Ever since that period the wonderful
miracle of the fried fish is said to occur annually
at Easter.
On our return to our kaik, we saw
near the shore an enormous cuttle-fish, more than
fourteen feet in length, which had just been taken
and killed. A number of fishermen were trying
with ropes and poles to drag the monster ashore.
The walks in the immediate neighbourhood
of Pera are the great and little Campo, and somewhat
farther distant the great bridge which unites Topana
with Constantinople; the latter is a most amusing
walk, during which we can view the life and bustle
on both shores at the same time. In the little
Campo are two Frankish coffee-houses, before which
we sit quite in European fashion on handsome chairs
and benches, listening to pleasant music, and regaling
ourselves with ices.
Feasts in Constantinople.
During my residence in Constantinople
I had the good fortune to be present at some very
entertaining festivities. The most magnificent
of these took place on the 23d of April, the anniversary
of Mahomet’s death.
On the eve of this feast we enjoyed
a fairy-like spectacle. The tops of all the
minarets were illuminated with hundreds of little
lamps; and as there are a great many of these slender
spires, it can be readily imagined that this sea of
light must have a beautiful effect. The Turkish
ships in the harbour presented a similar appearance.
At every loop-hole a large lamp occupied the place
of the muzzle of the cannon. At nine o’clock
in the evening, salvoes were fired from the ships;
and at the moment that the cannons were fired, the
lamps vanished, flashes of light and gunpowder-smoke
filled the air; a few seconds afterwards, as if by
magic, the lamps had reappeared. This salute
was repeated three times.
The morning of the 23d was ushered
in by the booming of the cannon. All the Turkish
ships had hoisted their flags, and garlands of coloured
paper were twined round the masts to their very tops.
At nine o’clock I proceeded
in the company of several friends to Constantinople,
to see the grand progress of the Sultan to the mosque.
As with us, it is here the custom to post soldiers
on either side of the way. The procession was
headed by the officers and government officials; but
after every couple of officers or statesmen followed
their servants, generally to the number of twelve
or fifteen persons, in very variegated costumes, partly
Turkish, partly European, and withal somewhat military;
in fact, a perfect motley. Then came the Emperor’s
state-horses, splendid creatures, the majority of
them of the true Arabian breed, decorated with saddle-cloths
richly embroidered with gold, pearls, and precious
stones, and proudly moving their plumed heads.
Their spirited appearance and beautiful paces excited
the admiration of all the learned in such matters.
They were followed by a number of pages on foot;
these pages are not, however, youths, as in other countries,
but men of tried fidelity. In their midst rode
the youthful Emperor, wrapped in his cape, and wearing
in his fez-cap a fine heron’s plume, buckled
with the largest diamond in Europe. As the Sultan
passed by, he was greeted by the acclamations
of the military, but not of the people. The
soldiers closed the procession; but their bearing
is not nearly so haughty as that of the horses.
The reason of this is simple enough no
one dares look upon the Arabians with an evil eye,
but the soldiers are entirely subject to the caprice
of their officers. I would certainly rather
be the Sultan’s horse than his soldier.
The uniforms of the officers, in their
profusion of gold embroidery, resemble those of our
hussars. The privates have very comfortable
jackets and trousers of blue cloth with red trimmings;
some have jackets entirely of a red colour.
The artillerymen wear red facings. Their chaussure
is pitiable in the extreme: some have boots,
not unfrequently decorated with spurs; others have
shoes, trodden down at heel and terribly tattered;
and some even appear in slippers. All are without
stockings, and thus naked feet peer forth every where.
The position of the men with regard to each other
is just as irregular; a little dwarf may frequently
be seen posted next to a giant, a boy of twelve or
fourteen years near a grey-headed veteran, and a negro
standing next to a white man.
At this feast a great concourse of
people was assembled, and every window was crowded
with muffled female heads.
We had been advised not to be present
at this ceremony, as it was stated to be of a purely
religious nature, and it was feared we should be exposed
to annoyance from the fanaticism of the Mussulmen.
I am glad to say, however, that the curiosity of my
party was stronger than their apprehensions.
We pushed through every where, and I had again occasion
to feel assured that grievous wrong is frequently
done the good Turks. Not only was there no appearance
of a disposition to annoy us, but we even obtained
very good places without much trouble.
On their Easter days the Greeks have
a feast in the great Campo. On all the three
holidays, the hamaks (water-carriers and porters),
after the service is over, march in large numbers to
the Campo with songs and music, with noise and shouting,
waving their handkerchiefs in the air. Arrived
at their destination, they divide into different groups,
and proceed to amuse themselves much after the manner
of other nations. A number of tents are erected,
where a great deal of cooking and baking is carried
on. Large companies are sitting on the ground
or on the tombstones, eating and drinking in quiet
enjoyment. We see a number of swings laden with
men and children; on this side we hear the squeaking
of a bagpipe, on that the sound of a pipe and drum,
uttering such dismal music that the hearer instinctively
puts a finger into each ear. To this music a
real bear’s dance is going on. Six or eight
fellows stand in a half circle round the musician,
and two leaders of these light-toed clodhoppers continually
wave their handkerchiefs in the air as they stamp
slowly and heavily round in a circle. The women
are allowed to appear at this feast, but may neither
take part in the swinging nor in the dancing.
They therefore keep up a brave skirmishing with the
sweetmeats, coffee, and delicacies of all kinds.
The more wealthy portion of the community employ
these days in riding to Baluklid, to gaze and wonder
at the miracle of the half-baked and yet living fishes.
As the Greeks are not so good-natured
as the Turks, the latter seldom take part in their
festivities. Turkish women never appear on these
occasions.
On the 8th of May I saw a truly Turkish
fête in the neighbourhood of the Achmaidon (place
of arrows).
In a plain surrounded on all sides
by hills, men of all nations formed a large but closely-packed
circle. Kavasses (gens d’arme) were there
to keep order among the people, and several officers
sat among the circle to keep order among the kavasses.
The spectacle began. Two wrestlers or gladiators
made their appearance, completely undressed, with
the exception of trousers of strong leather.
They had rubbed themselves all over with oil, so that
their joints might be soft and supple, and also that
their adversary should not be able to obtain a firm
hold when they grappled together. They made
several obeisances to the spectators, began with minor
feats of wrestling, and frequently stopped for a few
moments in order to husband their strength. Then
the battle began afresh, and became hotter and hotter,
till at length one of the combatants was hailed as
victor by the shouting mob. He is declared the
conqueror who succeeds in throwing his opponent in
such a manner that he can sit down upon him as on
a horse. A combat of this kind usually lasts
a quarter of an hour. The victor walks triumphantly
round the circle to collect his reward. The unfortunate
vanquished conceals himself among the spectators,
scarcely daring to lift his eyes. These games
last for several hours; as one pair of gladiators
retire, they are replaced by another.
Greek, Turkish, and Armenian women
may only be spectators of these games from a distance;
they therefore occupy the adjoining heights.
For the rest, the arrangements are the same as at the
Greek Easter feast. People eat, drink, and dance.
No signs of beer, wine, or liqueur are to be discovered,
and consequently there is no drunkenness.
The Turkish officers were here polite
enough to surrender the best places to us strangers.
I had many opportunities of noticing the character
of the Mussulman, and found, to my great delight, that
he is much better and more honest than prejudices
generally allow us to believe. Even in matters
of commerce and business it is better to have to do
with a Turk than with a votary of any other creed,
not even excepting my own.
During my stay at Constantinople (from
the 5th of April until May 17th) I found the weather
just as changeable as in my own country; so much so,
in fact, that the temperature frequently varied twelve
or fourteen degrees within four-and-twenty hours.
Excursion to Brussa.
The two brothers, Baron Charles and
Frederick von Buseck, and Herr Sattler, the talented
artist, resolved to make an excursion to Brussa; and
as I had expressed a similar wish, they were obliging
enough to invite me to make a fourth in their party.
But when it came to the point, I had almost become
irresolute. I was asked by some one if I was
a good rider; “for if you are not,” said
my questioner, “it would be far better for you
not to accompany them, as Brussa is four German miles
distant from Gemlek, and the road is bad, so that
the gentlemen must ride briskly if they wish to reach
the town before sundown, starting as they would at
half-past two in the afternoon, the general hour of
landing at Gemlek. In the event of your being
unable to keep up with the rest, you would put them
to great inconvenience, or they will be compelled
to leave you behind on the road.”
I had never mounted a horse, and felt
almost inclined to confess the fact; but my curiosity
to see Brussa, the beautiful town at the foot of Olympus,
gained the day, and I boldly declared that I had no
doubt I should be able to keep pace with my companions.
On the 13th of May we left Constantinople
at half-past six in the morning, on board a little
steamer of forty-horse power. Passing the Prince’s
and Dog Islands, we swept across the Sea of Marmora
towards the snow-crowned Olympus, until, after a voyage
of seven hours, we reached Gemlek.
Gemlek, distant thirty sea miles from
Constantinople, is a miserable place, but nevertheless
does some trade as the harbour of Bithynia. The
agent of the Danube Navigation Company was civil enough
to procure us good horses, and a genuine, stalwart,
and fierce-looking Turkoman for a guide. This
man wore in his girdle several pistols and a dagger;
a long crooked scimitar hung at his side; and instead
of shoes and slippers, large boots decked his feet,
bordered at the top by a wide stripe of white cloth,
on which were depicted blue flowers and other ornaments.
His head was graced by a handsome turban.
At half-past two o’clock the
horses arrived. I swung myself boldly upon my
Rosinante, called on my good angel to defend me, and
away we started, slowly at first, over stock and stone.
My joy was boundless when I found that I could sit
steadily upon my horse; but shortly afterwards, when
we broke into a trot, I began to feel particularly
uncomfortable, as I could not get on at all with the
stirrup, which was continually slipping to my heel,
while sometimes my foot slid out of it altogether,
and I ran the risk of losing my balance. Oh,
what would I not have given to have asked advice of
any one! But unfortunately I could not do so
without at once betraying my ignorance of horsemanship.
I therefore took care to bring up the rear, under
the pretence that my horse was shy, and would not
go well unless it saw the others before it. My
real reason was that I wished to hide my manoeuvres
from the gentlemen, for every moment I expected to
fall. Frequently I clutched the saddle with
both hands, as I swayed from side to side. I
looked forward in terror to the gallop, but to my
surprise found that I could manage this pace better
than the trot. My courage brought its reward,
for I reached the goal of our journey thoroughly shaken,
but without mishap. During the time that we
travelled at a foot-pace, I had found leisure to contemplate
the scenery around us. For half the entire distance
we ride from one valley into another; as often as
a hill is reached, there is a limited prospect before
the traveller, who has, however, only to turn his
head, and he enjoys a beautiful view over the Sea
of Marmora. After a ride of two hours and a
half we arrived at a little khan, where we rested
for half an hour. Proceeding thence a short
distance, we reached the last hills; and the great
valley, at the end of which Brussa is seen leaning
against Olympus, lay stretched before our eager eyes,
while behind us we could still distinguish, far beyond
hill and dale, the distant sea skirting the horizon.
Yet, beautiful as this landscape undoubtedly is,
I had seen it surpassed in Switzerland. The immense
valley which lies spread out before Brussa is uncultivated,
deserted, and unwatered; no carpet of luxuriant verdure,
no rushing river, no pretty village, gives an air
of life to this magnificent and yet monotonous region;
and no giant mountains covered with eternal snow look
down upon the plain beneath. Pictures like these
I had frequently found in Switzerland, in the Tyrol,
and also near Salzburg. Here I saw, indeed,
separate beauties, but no harmonious whole.
Olympus is a fine majestic mountain, forming an extended
barrier; but its height can scarcely exceed 6000 feet;
and during the present month it is totally despoiled
of its surface of glittering snow. Brussa, with
its innumerable minarets, is the only point of relief
to which the eye continually recurs, because there
is nothing beyond to attract it. A little brook,
crossed by a very high stone bridge, but so shallow
already in the middle of May as hardly to cover our
horses’ hoofs; and towards Brussa, a miserable
village, with a few plantations of olives and mulberry-trees, are
the only objects to be discovered throughout the whole
wide expanse. Wherever I found the olive-tree here,
near Trieste, and in Sicily, it was alike
ugly. The stem is gnarled, and the leaves are
narrow and of a dingy green colour. The mulberry-tree,
with its luxuriant bright green foliage, forms an
agreeable contrast to the olive. The silk produced
in this neighbourhood is peculiarly fine in quality,
and the stuffs from Brussa are renowned far and wide.
We reached the town in safety before
sunset. It is one of the most disagreeable circumstances
that can happen to the traveller to arrive at an Oriental
town after evening has closed in. He finds the
gates locked, and may clamour for admittance in vain.
In order to gain our inn, we were
obliged to ride through the greater part of the town.
I had here an opportunity of observing that it is
just as unsightly as the interior of Constantinople.
The streets are narrow, and the houses built of wood,
plaster, and some even of stone; but all wear an aspect
of poverty, and at the same time of singularity; the
gables projecting so much that they occupy half the
width of the street, and render it completely dark,
while they increase its narrowness. The inn,
too, at which we put up, looked far from inviting
when viewed from the outside, so that we had some
dark misgivings respecting the quality of the accommodation
that awaited us. But in proportion as the outside
had looked unpropitious, were we agreeably surprised
on entering. A neat and roomy courtyard, with
a basin of pure sparkling water in the midst, surrounded
by mulberry-trees, was the first thing we beheld.
Round this courtyard were two stories of clean but
simply-furnished rooms. The fare was good, and
we were even regaled with a bottle of excellent wine
from the lower regions of Olympus.
May 14th.
Next morning we visited the town and
its environs, under the guidance and protection of
a kavasse. The town itself is of great extent,
and is reported to contain above 10,000 houses, inhabited
exclusively by Turks. The population of the suburbs,
which comprise nearly 4000 houses, is a mixed one
of Christians, Jews, Greeks, etc. The town
numbers three hundred and sixty mosques; but the greater
portion of them are so insignificant and in such a
dilapidated condition, that we scarcely observed them.
Strangers are here permitted to enter
the mosques in company of a kavasse. We visited
some of the principal, among which the Ulla Drchamy
may decidedly be reckoned. The cupola of this
mosque is considered a masterpiece, and rests upon
graceful columns. It is open at the top, thus
diffusing a chastened light and a clear atmosphere
throughout the building. Immediately beneath
this cupola stands a large marble basin, in which
small fishes swim merrily about.
The mosque of Sultan Mahomed I. and
of Sultan Ildirim Bojasid must also be noticed on
account of their splendid architecture; the latter,
too, for the fine view which is thence obtained.
In the mosque of Murad I. visitors are still shewn
weapons and garments which once belonged to that sultan.
I saw none of the magnificent regal buildings mentioned
by some writers. The imperial kiosk is so simple
in its appearance, that if we had not climbed the hill
on which it stands for the sake of the view, it would
not have been worth the trouble of the walk.
A stone bridge, roofed throughout
its entire length, crosses the bed of the river, which
has very steep banks, but contains very little water.
A double row of small cottages, in which silk-weavers
live and ply their trade, lines this bridge, which
I was surprised to see here, as its architecture seemed
rather to appertain to my own country than to the
East. During my whole journey I did not see a
second bridge of this kind, either in Syria or Egypt.
The streets are all very dull and
deserted, a fact which is rather remarkable in a town
of 100,000 inhabitants. In most of the streets
more dogs than men are to be seen. Not only in
Constantinople, but almost in every Oriental town,
vast numbers of these creatures run about in a wild
state.
Here, as every where, some degree
of bustle is to be found in the bazaars, particularly
in those which are covered in. Beautiful and
durable silk stuffs, the most valuable of which are
kept in warehouses under lock and key, form the chief
article of traffic. In the public bazaar we found
nothing exposed for sale except provisions.
Among these I remarked some small, very unpalatable
cherries. Asia Minor is the fatherland of this
fruit, but I did not find it in any degree of perfection
either here or at Smyrna.
Brussa is peculiarly rich in cold
springs, clear as crystal, which burst forth from
Mount Olympus. The town is intersected in all
directions by subterranean canals; in many streets,
the ripple of the waters below can be distinctly heard,
and every house is provided with wells and stone basins
of the limpid element; in some of the bazaars we find
a similar arrangement.
On a nearer approach, the appearance
of Mount Olympus is not nearly so grand as when viewed
from a distance. The mountain is surrounded
by several small hills, which detract from the general
effect.
The baths, distant about a mile from
the town, are prettily and healthfully situated, and,
moreover, abundantly supplied with mineral water.
Many strangers resort thither to recruit their weakened
frames.
The finest among these baths is called
Jeni Caplidche. A lofty circular hall contains
a great swimming bath of marble, above which rises
a splendid cupola. A number of refracting glasses
(six hundred, they told me) diffuse a magic light
around.
Our journey back to Constantinople
was not accomplished entirely without mishap.
One of the gentlemen fell from his horse and broke
his watch. The saddles and bridles of hired horses
are here generally in such bad condition that there
is every moment something to buckle or to cobble up.
We were riding at a pretty round pace, when suddenly
the girths burst, and the saddle and rider tumbled
off together. I arrived without accident at
my destination, although I had frequently been in
danger of falling from my horse without its being
necessary that the girth should break.
The gentlemen were satisfied with
my performance, for I had never lagged behind, nor
had they once been detained on my account. It
was not until we were safely on board the ship that
I told them how venturesome I had been, and what terror
I had undergone.