Beyond the walls of the city, about half-a-mile from the Selyvria gate,

approaching to the sea of Marmora, is one of the most celebrated of

these fountains, which, from the earliest period of its dedication to

Christianity, has been held in the highest veneration. The tradition

of a miracle wrought by its waters in restoring sight to a blind man,

attracted the attention of the Greek emperors, and it afterwards became

the object of their peculiar care. Leo the Great, in the year 460,

first erected a church over it. The emperor Justinian was returning

one day from hunting, and perceived a great crowd surrounding it. He

inquired into the cause, and learned that a miracle of healing had

just been wrought by the waters; so, when he had finished his gorgeous

temple to “the Eternal Wisdom of God,” he applied the surplus of his

rich materials to adorning this church. It stood for two centuries,

an object of wonder and veneration, till it was shattered by an

earthquake, when it was finally rebuilt by the empress Irené with more

splendour than ever. Such was the sanctity and esteem in which it was

held, that imperial marriages were celebrated in it, in preference to

Santa Sophia, or other edifices in the city. When Simeon the Bulgarian

defeated the Greeks under the walls of the city, he married his son

Peter to Maria, the daughter of the emperor Lacapenus, here; and again,

the nuptials of the daughter of Cantacuzene with the son of Andronicus

Palæologus were celebrated in it with great pomp.

But, besides the sanctity of the place, its natural beauties present

considerable attractions. The Byzantine historians describe them in

glowing colours: meadows enamelled with flowers of all kinds, gardens

filled with the richest fruits, groves waving with the most varied and

luxuriant foliage, a balmy air breathing purity and enjoyment, and,

above all, a fountain which, to use the language of the times, “the

mother of God had endowed with such miraculous gifts, that every bubble

that issued from it contained a remedy for every disease.”

This lovely and health-giving place was the resort not only of the

pious, but of all who sought recreation in rural scenes. The emperors

erected a summer-residence beside the church, and the celebrated region

was called “the palace and temple of the fountain.”

When the Turks laid siege to the city, their principal attack was at

the gate of St. Romanus, near this spot. The rude soldiers, encamped

round it, destroyed its groves, dilapidated its walls, and defiled its

fountain; but a traditional anecdote is told, which conferred, in the

eyes of the superstitious conquerors, a character as miraculous as that

which the Byzantines bestowed upon it. So sure were the infatuated

Greeks of Divine assistance to repel their enemies, that they expected

the angel Michael every moment to descend with a flaming sword and

destroy them. When the Turks made their last successful attack, and

entered the city over the body of the emperor, a priest was frying

fish in a part of the edifice still standing; and when it was told him

the city was taken, he replied, he could as soon believe the fried

fish would return to their native element, and again resume life. To

convert his incredulity, they did actually spring from the vessel into

the sacred fountain beside it, where they swam about, and continue to

swim at this day. This circumstance is said to have rendered the place

as miraculous in the eyes of the Moslems as the Christians; so they

changed the name, to commemorate the miracle, into _Baloukli_ or “the

place of the fishes,” into which its former appellative merged, and by

which it is now known.

As this was a place held by the Greeks, from the earliest times, in

great distinction, and the Turks themselves partook of the impression

it caused; it was the object of their attention, when the insurrection

broke out in 1821. They rushed in a body to this celebrated place, tore

down what of the edifice had been suffered to remain, and attacked the

unfortunate persons who had presumed to venture to celebrate their

primitive festival. In this state it continued for several years, and

the traveller who visited it saw a desecrated ruin, occupied only by a

poor Caloyer in his tattered blue tunic, lamenting over the devastation

of his sacred enclosure. The miraculous fishes, however, seemed to be

the only objects that did not suffer by the sacrilege. They still might

be seen darting through the water, and the countenance of the poor

priest lightened up with pleasure, when he could find them out, and

say, _idhoo psari afthenti_−-look at these fishes, sir.

At length, when affairs became settled, and the revolution was

completed and recognized, a firman was issued by the sultan, to repair

all the Christian churches that had been injured, and this was among

the first to which attention was directed. The former celebrity and

great sanctity conferred upon it a more than usual interest; and the

Russian government, as members of the Greek church, contributed to its

re-erection on a more extended plan. It is surrounded by an area, in

which is built a residence for the priests of the well. From hence is

the approach to the church, which has a certain subterranean character,

and is entered by a descent of marble steps. The interior has been

finished with much care, indicating considerable anxiety to adorn such

an edifice with corresponding ornaments. The walls are covered with a

light and glittering coat of gold on white varnish, so as to resemble

the finest porcelain China, and present a rich surface to the eye,

perfectly dazzling. This effect is heightened by splendid glass lustres

suspended from the ceiling, and presented by the emperor Nicholas.

Our illustration presents the church under its characteristic and

usual aspect. Before the ornamented screen which separates the nave

from the sanctuary, is stretched the sick brought here to be healed

after the ablution of the water, by the panayia who presides over it.

Another trait of Greek superstition is also displayed: at the entrance

to the church is a large case, in which a number of slender tapers are

deposited; every male, on coming in, purchases at this counter a taper,

which he lights, and bears in his hand to a stand placed before the

sanctuary. Here he sticks it on a point prepared for it, and suffers

it to burn out, as a necessary part of his devotion. This ceremony

is particularly practised by Greek mariners, who thus propitiate the

Virgin before they sail. The Greek church, like the Latin, prescribes

a formula for blessing those candles, and believe, that whenever the

benediction is said over them, they have a power conferred upon them of

chasing away demons and evil spirits when they are lighted.

[Illustration: T. Allom. T. A. Friar.

GREEK CHURCH OF SAINT THEODORE, PERGAMUS.

ASIA MINOR.]

The Hagiography of the modern Greeks resembles, in many respects, the

Mythology of their ancestors. Their saints are divided into Megalo and

Micro, like the Major and Minor deities of their pagan forefathers.

They attribute to them preternatural powers and miraculous gifts, the

exercise of which is displayed pretty much in the same manner in both;

and there are many of the same name, to each of whom the actions of all

are sometimes attributed. The name of Ayos Theodoros is borne by five

individuals in the Greek church, who have all festivals in different

months in the year; there were three edifices consecrated to them in

the capital; and churches bearing their name are found in every part of

the empire where a Greek community exists, at this day.

Ayos Theodoros, which the church of Pergamus acknowledges, was called

Stratiolites, or “the Soldier.” He was born at Heraclea, and was

general under Licinius, the last rival of Constantine the Great. After

various acts of valour and services to the state, he was decapitated

by the tyrant, in 319, for his attachment to the Christian cause. He

was brought by his adherents, to be buried at Apamea, which was thence

called Theodoropolis; and pilgrims visited his shrine, and fulfilled

vows in “the spiritual meadow” beside it, where many miracles were

performed. His personal powers did not cease with his death. Like

the twin-brothers, Castor and Pollux, he appeared in battle, and

discomfited the enemies of his votaries. Six hundred and fifty years

after his death, the wicked Johannes Zemisces, by his aid obtained a

signal victory. He is represented in armour with a sword and shield,

consonant to his church-militant character. His effigy formed one

of the twelve flammulæ on the ensigns of the empire; his shield is

preserved in the church at Dalisand, in Asia; his body was brought

by Dandolo from Constantinople to Venice, in 1260; but his head was

claimed by another place, and deposited at Cajeta.

Other saints, of the same name, had various similar acts attributed to

them, and were frequently confounded together. Theodore of Siceon in

Galatia, was a prophet, and predicted that Mauricius should be emperor,

which accordingly took place; and he was afterwards sent for to the

imperial palace, to confer his blessing upon the new royal family.

Another Theodore was particularly distinguished for his miracles. In

the language of his panegyrist “he expelled devils, healed distempers,

and conferred miraculous gifts on all who touched his tomb.” A fourth,

seized with prophetic inspiration, and while sailing on the Nile,

exclaimed “that Julian the apostate from Christianity was dead;” and

his death was found to have occurred at that moment, in Persia: and

so he emulated Apollonius Tyanæus in declaring the death of Domitian.

The fate of the last of the name is somewhat peculiar: he lived at

the era of the reformation of the Greek church, begun by Leo: he

adhered rigidly to the worship of images, which was then proscribed,

and carried them off whenever the Iconoclasts attempted to deface or

destroy them. Certain Iambics were composed, in which the practice was

declared superstitious and impious, and every person detected in it was

seized, and a mark set upon him like Cain. The lines were indelibly

inscribed on the person by puncturing them on the skin. In this way St.

Theodore was stigmatized; the denunciation was tatooed on his forehead,

and thence he obtained the name of Graft, or “the inscribed.” He is

held in great estimation by the Latin church, as a martyr to orthodoxy;

but is of no repute in the Greek, which still professes a horror at

image-worship.

The present church of St. Theodore at Pergamus, is a poor, mean

edifice, forming a strong contrast with the noble remains of the church

of St. John, beside it: yet it is the only place of Christian worship

now in the city. It stands on the side of the hill of the Acropolis,

and appears but the remnant of a former church. The sanctuary is the

only part not altogether dilapidated, the rest being only a mud-built

heap. The screen, which in all Greek churches, however humble, glitters

with gilding and gaudy paint, is here so dark and dingy, that even

in the glow of the sun, or the ever-lighted lamps, the figures are

scarcely discernible; yet it is pleasing to find, even in this dim

temple, a spark of Christianity is cherished, likely to beam into a

clearer light. The poor papas of the church have formed a school under

the roof, in which more than thirty children are instructed, and the

bibles of the British and Foreign Society are introduced.

Among the objects presented in our illustration, is one characteristic

of the saint to whom the church is dedicated. The expulsion of devils

was included among the miracles performed in the name of Theodore; and

in our illustration is a poor maniac waiting before the sanctuary, for

the purpose, while the appointed papas are exorcising him. A belief in

actual possession by evil spirits, is the dogma of the Greek church

at the present day; and in many of them are seen chains and manacles

passed through rings in the floor, where the unfortunate maniac is

bound night and day while the process of exorcism is being gone

through. In a Greek monastery on the islands, is a chapel famed for

the efficacy of its prayers in this way, to which patients are sent

from Constantinople, and the floor of the church, at times, was almost

covered with those demoniacs chained down to the ground. During the

excitement of the Greek insurrection, the priests were the particular

objects of Turkish persecution; and the Caloyers of this convent were

particularly proscribed. They all escaped but one, and he was anxiously

preparing to fly, expecting every moment his executioners; he saw them

ascending the hill, on the summit of which the convent is situated,

and, as a forlorn hope, he ran into the chapel, thrust his legs and

arms into the fetters, and appeared violently possessed, so that no

man “could bind him, no, not with chains.” The Turks entertain great

respect for maniacs, whom they believe to be, when bereft of reason,

in the immediate care of Allah; so they only looked compassionately on

the poor man, and left the church. The Caloyer escaped, descended in

the dark into a caïque, which was secretly waiting for him, and escaped

finally to Russia, the great refuge of the proscribed Greeks.

[Illustration: T. Allom. T. A. Friar.

APARTMENT IN THE PALACE OF EYOUB, THE RESIDENCE OF THE

ASMÉ SULTANA.]

In the delightful region of Eyoub, not far from the tomb of the Ansar,

and close upon the waters of the Golden Horn, is an imperial residence

recalling the memory of the unfortunate Selim, who selected this quiet

and delicious retreat for his sister, to which he might occasionally

retire in pursuit of that tranquillity his gentle spirit was not doomed

to enjoy, among the perils and tumults that disturbed his reign. It

bears the impress of his hand. Though inclining to and beginning

to adopt European usages, his taste was still Oriental. Unlike the

bold and uncompromising character of Mahmoud, he halted between two

opinions; and, while the new palace of the one exhibits on the shores

of the Bosphorus a noble specimen of European architecture, the new

palace of the other is no improvement on Eastern barbarism; the palace

is perfectly Turkish.

On passing along the arabesque front, the gaudy glare of the gilded

apartments within are reflected through any open casement with an

almost painful and dazzling lustre, particularly if the sun shines,

so as to repel the gazer. The reception-room, or salaamlik, the

only part given in our illustration, is remote from the harem, from

whose mysterious recesses all strangers are utterly excluded: it

is entered by a close curtain or screen drawn across the door, and

immediately falling behind the person who passes, and gives a kind of

mysterious and jealous precaution even to this permitted room. Here

a balustrade of pillars runs across, leaving a passage in the centre

which is ascended by steps, so that the upper end is raised like the

dais of our Gothic halls. This portion of the apartment is covered

over with gilding; the walls are pierced with various niches and

circular recesses, ornamented with pendent members like icicles, and

recall the mind to the cloistered sculpture of our old churches, and,

notwithstanding the bright glare, convey the impression of gilding on

a coffin. The panels are decorated with embossed festoons, glittering

with burnished gold on a frosted surface. The ceiling, which in a

Turkish apartment is always highly ornamented, is enclosed in an

octagonal moulding with a central embossment, from which issue to the

circumference radiating decorations; the ground is azure blue studded

with gilded stars.

This spacious apartment, like every other room, is entirely divested

of furniture. The only seats are cushions of a divan, like a sofa,

running round all the walls, on which a man of elevated rank sits

cross-legged, smoking a chiboque, whose long tube extends many yards on

the floor below, where it is received into a gilded vase, and renovated

by a kneeling attendant. Persons of inferior rank recline on carpets

spread on the floor; beside the balustrade stand the mutes and black

slaves, ready to do the behests of their master; and, as every person

is admitted, he makes a profound salaam, nearly touching his forehead

to the ground, on which he lays his hand, and then raises it to his

head as if to scatter dust upon it. Such is the general description of

every salaamlik, or hall of salutation, of which this imperial one is a

model.

The edifice is appropriated to the Asmé Sultana, or sister of the

reigning sovereign. The former tenant, for whom it was erected by

Selim, was one of whom the scandalous chronicles of Pera reported

many delinquencies: she was said to be of a perverse and implacable

character, very different from her gentle brother; she was in the habit

of fixing her affections on every one who struck her fancy, and allowed

no restraint upon her will, which it was equally fatal to refuse or

comply with. It was the agreeable recreation of all classes, Turks,

Rayas, and Franks, to proceed either by land or water to some of the

lovely valleys opening on the Bosphorus, and pic-nic on the grass;

here she used to repair, and her approach among the various groups was

described to be like the appearance of some bird of prey among the

feeble flocks of smaller fowl. Every man trembled, lest she should

fix her ominous glance on him. A dragoman of the English mission,

who possessed a comely face, one day attracted her notice: a slave

notified to him that a lady wished to speak with him, and he followed

her, nothing loth. When arrived at where a group of Turkish women were

seated, he recognized with horror the too-well-known countenance of

the sultan’s sister, through the disguise with which she had covered

it. After some refreshments, which were handed to him, he retired,

but was followed by the slave, who intimated to him to repair, at

a certain hour at night, to her palace: instead of doing so, the

dragoman immediately left the city, and proceeded to Smyrna, where he

concealed himself. Meantime the rage of the disappointed lady became

furious: suite and pursuite were made after him by her emissaries;

nor was it till another object had attracted her volatile regards,

that he ventured to return to his employment; and even then he lived

in considerable anxiety. Another instance occurred soon after, which

justified his apprehension. A man in the humble rank of a musician,

attached to a band who were occasionally sent for to play at the

seraglio, attracted her notice, and was selected as the fated object

of her regard; he afterwards, in some way, incurred her displeasure,

and he, and the whole company to which he belonged, were sacrificed. A

caïque was sent for them from the seraglio to the Princes’ Islands,

where they resided, and they went as usual, without apprehension; the

next day the caïque returned without them, but brought back their

clothes to their distracted families; it was then learned that they had

been all cut to pieces for the imputed offence of one man, and their

bodies cast into the sea.

The sister of Sultan Mahmoud, the Asmé Sultana, who now possesses the

palace, and occasionally visits it, is the widow of an officer of

high rank, and conducts herself with discretion: she regulates her

domestic affairs with strict propriety, and affords a protection to

her dependents, which even her terrible brother, the sultan, dared

not violate. Among the young ladies of her establishment was one who,

without any high degree of personal charms, had attracted the notice of

Mahmoud in one of his visits, and he immediately proposed to receive

her into his harem; to his astonishment, this flattering proposal

was declined by the girl. She resisted his offers, and preferred an

humble attachment founded on mutual affection, to all the splendour

that awaited her in the imperial seraglio. The sultan, rendered only

more importunate by her opposition still persisted in his proposal,

but was finally and firmly rejected; and he, whose look was death,

whose nod consigned 40,000 formidable Janissaries in one day to utter

annihilation, was unable to overcome the reluctance of a timid girl,

and dared not violate the sanctity of that protection which the Asmé

Sultana had afforded her; so she was ultimately allowed to follow the

bent of her own inclination, and select a lover for herself.

[Illustration: T. Allom. J. Tingle.

REMAINS OF THE CHURCH OF ST. JOHN−-PERGAMUS.

ASIA MINOR.]

Among the first edifices, erected by Constantine the Great to

Christianity, in his new city, was one dedicated to St. John the

Evangelist, whom the Greeks hold in the highest veneration, and

distinguish by the appellation of “The Great Theologian.” It was

situated in the Hebdomum, or great plain, and was one of its most

striking ornaments. In the subsequent reign of Theodosius the Great,

the heart of St. John the Baptist, or, as the Greeks call him, the

Prodromus, or “fore-runner” of Christ, was discovered, and the precious

relic solemnly deposited in this church of his namesake by the emperor.

He then directed other edifices to be built to the great theologian in

the cities where his churches of the Apocalypse were founded, and one

of extraordinary dimensions at Pergamus.

This church was, next to that of Santa Sophia, the best model of a

Greek Christian edifice. Its remains at this day are of gigantic

proportions, and afford a melancholy memorial of the vast Christian

population that required so large an edifice, where now the existence

of Christianity is hardly known. It stands near the great khan of the

city, and rises above all the other buildings, on which it seems to

look down. The length of the ruin is 225 feet, and its height about

half its length. It is built of layers of Roman brick and masses of

marble; and everywhere abounds in the fragments of architectural

ornaments, which seem to have been drawn away from other edifices to

adorn it. Two rows of granite columns still stand, dividing it into

two aisles, and supporting the gallery designed for females. In the

Greek church they are always separated. An Oriental feeling secludes

them behind close lattices above, while men only occupy the body of

the church below. The altar still stands in a semicircular recess,

flanked by copolas on either side, forming a spacious area of 160 feet

in circumference, crowned with domes 100 feet in height, towering

far above the external walls. The doors are very lofty, fronting a

spacious curve in the opposite wall, which leads to a vaulted apartment

supported by a massive pillar.

Constantinople and the Scenery of the Seven Churches of Asia Minor Series One and Series Two in one Volume · 第 20 / 29 段