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.
[Illustration: T. Allom. F. W. Topham.
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.
[Illustration: T. Allom. J. C. Bentley.
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.
[Illustration: Drawn fron Nature by E. Hervé. Esq. Eng^d by W. H.
Capone.
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.
[Illustration: C. Bentley. T. Jeavons.
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.
[Illustration: Drawn from Nature by F. Hervé, Esq. Engraved by J.
Tingle.
ROUTE THROUGH THE BALKAN MOUNTAINS, BY TÂTAR-BAZAAR.
ON THE FRONTIERS OF BULGARIA & ROUMELIA.]