and veneration. He is recognized in the Koran as the son of Zacharias,
and the account of him resembles that in the Gospel. His father was
promised a child, and, from the age of his wife, he doubted the
fulfilment of it; as a token and punishment, he was struck dumb, and
was unable to speak for three days. The Turks, who do not seem to make
any distinction between the Evangelist and the Baptist, suffered this
edifice to continue its Christian worship after they had overrun Asia
Minor, and taken possession of this city of the Apocalypse; but on
the subjugation of Constantinople, when Santa Sophia was assigned to
the worship of Mahomed, this great Christian church shared its fate,
and was converted into a mosque; but tradition says that a miracle
caused it to be abandoned. To mark its appropriation to the Prophet, a
minaret was built at one of its angles, as was done at Santa Sophia,
where the muezzin ascended, and called the faithful to pray in it. In
this minaret was a door which pointed to the west or setting sun, a
proper orthodox aspect: when the muezzin returned next day to invite
the people to morning-prayer, he could not find the door; and after
an examination as to the cause of its disappearance, it was discovered
that the tower had turned completely round on its base, and opposed
an impenetrable wall to the entrance of the Islam priest: this was
considered a plain indication of the will of Allah; so the edifice was
restored to its former worship. This continued long after, till the
decline and total decay of its Christian congregation; and still the
semblance of it is faintly displayed. The traveller, in exploring his
way through the ruins, is attracted by the light of a dim and dingy
lamp, which he finds is placed before a dirty, tawdry picture of the
panaya, stuck on the naked wall behind it. The poor Greek, his guide,
as he passes it, first kisses it with affectionate respect, then kneels
and bows his head to the ground, and offers up a short prayer to this
his favourite picture. He then “goes on his way rejoicing,” but never
presumes to pass without this tribute of devotion to the Virgin, though
he probably knows nothing of the Evangelist to whom the church was
consecrated. Other parts of the building are applied to the meanest
uses; a portion of it is converted into a manufacture of coarse earthen
ware, and filled with heaps of mud, and rude and barbarous pottery.
As an appropriate object in our illustration, the stork is seen
crowning the summit of a tower with its slender form and elongated
limbs. This bird has been in all ages a never-failing inhabitant of
Oriental towns, noted and celebrated for its qualities, which have
conferred upon it its name; it is called in Hebrew _chesadao_, which
implies “mercy or piety,” and alludes to the known tenderness and
attachment of the bird to its parents, whom it is reported never to
desert in advanced age, but feeds and protects even at the hazard
of its own safety: its emigrating qualities are noticed by the most
ancient writers: Jeremiah says, “Yea, the stork in the heavens knoweth
her appointed time;”[7] and nothing can be more striking than their
appearance at the approaching period. They collect together in large
detachments, and are seen wheeling about at an immense height in
the air, above some lofty eminence, before their forward progress
commences, like scouts sent out to reconnoitre the way; their white
bodies, long-projected red legs, and curved necks turning to every
point of the compass as if examining the road, give them a singular
picturesque appearance, while the light, reflected from their bright
colours, causes them to be distinctly seen at a great distance in the
air.
When they do depart for distant regions, their vigilance and precaution
have been extolled by many writers; their leader appoints certain
sentinels, to watch where they alight for repose; this they must do
standing on one leg, while they hold a stone grasped in the claw of the
other. If they are known to have dropped the stone, it is a presumption
they have slept on their post, and are punished accordingly; when
they arrive at the place of their destination, they take note of the
loiterer who comes last, and he also suffers, as an example to the
negligent. To the ingenious pictures of ancient writers and others,
which tradition has handed down to us, the moderns have added many
more.−-The Psalmist says, “As for the stork, the fir-trees are her
house,”[8] and here they build at the present day, and seem to take
under their protection a multitude of small birds, who make their nests
among the materials of the larger ones, and form a numerous community.
It is pleasing to see the harmony and affection that subsist between
them; and the sense of security the smaller evince under the protection
of their larger friends. Many of these are birds of passage also, but
their size, and the feebleness of their flight, seem to preclude the
possibility of a long journey; yet they all disappear together, so
the Turks affirm that the storks take their little friends upon their
backs, and every one carries as many as he can stow between his wings.
It is certain, that when the storks disappear in the night, on the next
day not a small bird is to be seen left behind them. From a belief in
this and similar tales, the Turks confer a sacred character on the
bird; and besides their general indisposition to hurt any animal in a
state of nature, they peculiarly inhibit the destruction of a stork.
Whoever injures one, incurs considerable personal danger. For this
feeling, there is some reasonable foundation:−-the marshes abound with
reptiles of all kinds, generated in immense numbers in the rank slime
of the soil. They are providentially the food of the stork, and, but
for their consumption in this way, would so increase as to render the
country uninhabitable by man. It appears from Pliny, that their utility
for this purpose was so felt, that the penalty of death was decreed
against any man who destroyed a stork.
Though the bird is seen in great numbers in all Oriental towns,
Pergamus seems its favourite haunt; the inhabitants feel for it
a fraternal regard, call it by endearing names, and affirm their
attachment is so mutual, that it follows the Moslem people into
whatever part of the globe they emigrate. They erect on their houses
frame-work of wood, to induce the stork to build there; the public
edifices are covered with them; the mosques and their minarets are full
of their nests, and on every “jutting pier, buttress, and coign of
“vantage” is seen their “procreant cradle.” Below, they strut about the
town with perfect familiarity, and are never disturbed by those they
meet; and their tall, slender heads are seen rising among the turbans
and calpacs of a crowded street. So jealous are the Turks of the
friendship of this bird, that they affirm it never builds on an edifice
inhabited by any but a Mussulman. It is certain they are seldom seen in
the Greek and Armenian quarters; it is probable the timid Christians,
from the apprehension of exciting the envy of their masters, discourage
or repel the stork whenever it approaches their habitations.
[Illustration: Drawn by Leitch. Sketched by T. Allom. Engraved by J. Sands.
MOSQUE OF SANTA SOPHIA, AND FOUNTAIN OF THE SERAGLIO.
CONSTANTINOPLE.]
This is another view of the same objects as were given in a former
illustration; but their are presented under a different aspect. In the
centre of the front is the Fountain built by Achmet, with its rich
display of gilded arabesque, on a bright blue and red ground; on the
left are the various edifices connected with Santa Sophia, the vast
aërial dome swelling above them, and intended to represent a section
of the concave firmament; and on the right is the Babu Hummayoun, or,
“Sublime Porte,” already described.
From this gate is seen, in perspective, descending the hill, the
turreted and battlemented walls of the Seraglio gardens, running down
to the harbour, and supposed to be the remains of that very ancient
fortification which marked the city of Byzantium, and cut off the apex
of the triangle which it occupied. The street below it is the great
avenue leading from the lower parts of the city to the Seraglio, and
many characteristic displays of Turkish manners are exhibited in it.
When an audience is granted by the sultan to a Frank ambassador, it is
notified to him by the dragoman, and a very early hour is appointed for
the purpose. Horses, richly caparisoned, are sent to convey him and
his suite; and, before light in the morning, if it be not in summer,
they mount in their grandest costumes. As all the Frank ministers
reside in Pera, they have the harbour to cross, so they clatter down
the steep and rugged streets leading to the water, at the imminent
hazard of breaking their limbs, and display any thing but a grand and
dignified procession. Having passed the harbour, they are received in a
small mean coffee-house on the water-edge, where pipes and coffee are
presented, after which they resume their march on fresh horses. There
stands a great tree, at the point where some streets meet; here the
cortege are directed to halt, and here they are condemned to wait till
the grand vizir, and other functionaries, are pleased to issue from
his bureau, in the Downing-street of Constantinople. The contemptuous
manner in which infidel ministers were formerly treated, here began to
display itself. Instead of the respect with which the representative of
a brother sovereign ought to be received, he was kept standing in an
open, dirty street, sometimes under heavy rain, for an hour or more,
without the slightest attention shown, or notice taken of him, except
being stared at, or called opprobrious names, muttered by some fanatic
Turk as he passed by. At length the vizir was seen slowly moving down
from his office; and it was supposed that he would courteously greet
the expected ambassador, and apologize for his delay:−-but no−-he
passed on with the most imperturbable gravity; not even condescending
to look at the ambassador, or seeming to know that he and his suite
were not part of the vulgar crowd. They were then permitted to move
on, and follow, at an humble distance, the vizir up this street,
till they entered the Babu Hummayoun; and here commenced a new series
of degradations, which have been already noticed. These barbarisms,
however, are now passing away, and, among other ameliorations of
Turkish manners, the sultan receives the representatives of his brother
sovereigns in a more becoming manner.
As the houses in the street overlook the gardens of the Seraglio,
strangers, who dared not enter, are led, by an idle and dangerous
curiosity, sometimes to attempt to overlook the walls of the sacred
enclosure, and see what is passing on the other side; and stories are
related of persons sacrificed to the perilous effort. Some even who
had no such object in view, have fallen victims to the jealousy of the
harem. On one occasion, the friend of an Armenian merchant, who had
a house here, brought a telescope, to examine the distant objects on
the other side of the sea of Marmora: unfortunately the view extended
across the gardens, and, while he was intently engaged in tracing the
declivities of Mount Olympus, the sultan passed below, and caught with
his eye the glitter of the glass of the telescope. Two chaoueshes were
instantly despatched, who entered the house, and the unfortunate man
found himself seized behind; and, before he had time to take the fatal
instrument from his eye, a bowstring was put round his neck, and he was
strangled at the window, in view of the sultan, who, it is said, waited
below to assure himself of the execution.
But this street witnessed a still more terrible display of Turkish
vengeance. After the awful destruction of the Janissaries at the
Atmeidan, they were everywhere hunted down like wild beasts through
the city. Sometimes they were killed wherever they were overtaken, and
their bodies suffered to remain weltering on the spot. Sometimes they
were brought to some enclosure, where they were kept till a number
was collected together, when armed men rushed among them, and they
were destroyed in a mass. Some of them were dragged into this street
from the neighbouring ones, as it was the great avenue leading to the
Seraglio, and there sacrificed as a grateful offering to the sultan.
Their heads were cut off, their trunks were drawn up at each side of
the street, and for three days, the appointed time for executed bodies
to remain so exposed, he passed up and down between this Oriental
display of headless men, lining the street to do the sovereign honour;
thus realizing, only a few years since, in a European capital, the
horrid exhibitions in which a Bajazet or a Tamerlane delighted,
centuries ago.
Along the wall near the great gate was the favourite spot selected for
the suspension of those trophies which marked the triumph of Islamism
over Christianity. On every victory obtained during their European
wars, the standards taken from Germans, Russians, Hungarians, and other
powers, were displayed here; and more recently the captive flags of
the Greeks were constantly seen fluttering, in an inverted position,
over heaps of ears and noses which were piled below. Among them were
several on which was depicted the cross, and various representations
of Christian events, but particularly the resurrection which was
labelled “Anastasis,” intended to be emblematic of their political
resurrection. But of all the standards, that of Ipsera was the most
interesting. After a gallant and almost incredible defence of this
little island against the Turkish fleet, which surrounded it on all
sides, and poured in numerous troops at every point, these few
brave defenders were compelled to take refuge in their last fortress.
Here they displayed their flag inscribed with their determination to
die, and their actions coincided with the inscription. The Turks were
permitted without much opposition to enter the fortress, and, when it
was filled with the crowd, the whole was blown into the air. The last
remnant of the Ipsariots, with an equal number of Turks, perished in
one indiscriminate carnage. The broad flag which had floated over the
self-devoted fortress, was brought in triumph, and suspended on this
wall. It was of large size, and inscribed ΗΛΑΗΘΤ, the Greek anagram
of “Death or Freedom;” and while the passenger “contemplated its
scorched and torn remnants hanging over the mutilated remains of the
brave spirits who unfurled it, it forcibly recalled to his mind that
desperate devotion which in all ages distinguished the Greeks.”
[Illustration: Drawn fom Nature by F. Hervé. E. Benjamin.
PASS AND WATERFALL IN THE BALKAN MOUNTAINS.]
This celebrated chain presents continually to the traveller a
succession of objects sometimes minute and picturesque, sometimes vast
and sublime. In the recesses between the high ridges, the scenery is
rural and pastoral, equalling that of Arcadia; on the summits of the
mountains, all seems thunder-splintered rocks and riven precipices,
where the ear is stunned with the roar of cataracts, as the eye is
astonished and the senses are appalled by the vast chasms through which
they rush. The Balkans are seldom seen covered with snows, and the
waters are rarely arrested by ice. At no season is observed, as in the
Alps, frost-suspended waterfalls,
“Whose idle torrents only seem to roar;”
but the sound of the bursting cataract never ceases, and the
mountain-streams, fed by continued showers, do not depend on the
solution of snows, but are always tumbling down the steeps and rushing
through the ravines.
The beautiful waterfall given in our illustration, occurs in the
pass by Bazarjik, not far from the village of Yenikui, half way up
the mountain-side. In several parts of this pass, the vegetation is
extremely luxuriant. Sometimes vast forest-trees are seen rising
from the depths of chasms, and shooting their giant trunks, as they
struggle up for light and air, till they reach the summit, and then,
and not till then, expanding their noble foliage; while the eye of the
traveller, looking down into the chasm from which they issue, is lost
in the immensity of the depth, and cannot trace the vast stems of the
trees to the ground. Sometimes the vegetation is of a very different
character: the mountains are celebrated for the abundance of plants and
shrubs used in dyeing, and parties set out every year, in the season,
from Adrianople, Philopopoli, and other towns, to collect them. Nothing
can then surpass the rich and glowing hue which clothes the surface.
The deep crimson of the sumachs, with the varying colours of yellow,
brown, purple, and the dark tints of the overhanging evergreens, give
a beautiful variety, exceeding perhaps that of any other region on the
surface of the earth.
[Illustration: T. Allom. S. Fisher.
CITY OF THYATIRA.
ASIA MINOR.]
The notice of Thyatira in profane history is brief. It is enumerated as
one of the cities of Lydia, but not distinguished by any circumstances
that would confer upon it celebrity among the Greek free cities of
this region. When the all-conquering Romans possessed themselves of
Asia, it fell under their power, and is mentioned by their historians.
Livy says, Antiochus collected his forces at Thyatira, when he marched
against their invading legions; he was defeated at Magnesia, and
Thyatira with all the surrounding territories merged into a Roman
province.
When Christianity began to expand itself, the inhabitants of this place
early evinced a disposition to embrace its new doctrines. St. Paul, in
his travels in Greece, met at Philippi a woman of Thyatira; she was
concerned in the sale of purple, either the dye or the dyed cloth, for
which the region in which her city was situated was then famous. It was
extracted from the shell-fish abounding on the sea-coasts, and was in
extensive demand as an article of commerce, used on various important
occasions. It was selected by the Jews for the curtains of the
tabernacle and the robes of the priests. Among Gentiles, the Chaldeans
clothed their idols, and the Persians their great men, in purple;
for Daniel was honoured with a robe of that colour when interpreting
Belshazzar’s dream, and Mordecai was arrayed in it when he was raised
to the rank of minister of state. Among the Romans, it was the hue most
precious, and distinguished their kings and emperors from the time of
Tullus Hostilius to Augustus Cæsar. It marked the difference between
the patrician and the knight, the youth and the child; the temples of
the gods, and the triumphs of mortals, were adorned with it. It was the
colour most prized and honoured both in the East and the West of the
ancient world.
Lydia, the vender of this precious dye in Europe, which was imported
from her own country, when she heard Paul expound the doctrines of
Christ, at once embraced them. She was baptized by the apostle, who, at
her entreaty, made her house his abode while he remained at Philippi.
It is probable that this circumstance may have facilitated the
reception of the gospel at Thyatira among the friends and commercial
connexions of Lydia. A congregation was immediately after formed there,
and the fourth church of the Apocalypse established. It was eulogized
by the Evangelist for the good works of the new converts; their
charity, their patience, their service in God’s law, and all characters
by which the primitive Christians were distinguished; but these high
qualities were alloyed by the frailties of a corrupt nature, from which
not even the purest Christian state was exempt. A woman named Jezebel,
or whose character resembled that infamous one of the Old Testament,
influenced and seduced them to evil; and, to reclaim them from their
sinful practices, St. John sent them a solemn warning in his divine
epistle to the Asiatic churches; but it does not appear with what
success, for no further notice is found of the city, and its fate is
involved in impenetrable obscurity. Its very site was lost in oblivion,
and it was not till about a century and a half since, that travellers
set out from Smyrna to ascertain its locality. At a Turkish village
some inscriptions were discovered, on one of which was found the words
ΚΡΑΤΙΣΤΗ ΘΥΑΤΕΙΡΗΝΩΝ ΒΟΥΛΗ, which seemed to decide the situation of
the ancient town; its modern Turkish name is “Akhissar,” or the White
Castle.
The town is approached by a long avenue of cypress and poplars, through
the vistas of which, the domes and minarets of the mosques are seen
shooting up. The background is closed by an amphitheatre of hills,
circling the rich plain on which the city stands. On entering it a busy
scene presents itself, forming a strong and pleasing contrast to what
the mind anticipates in this obscure church of the Apocalypse. Stores,
merchant shops, and a busy crowd bustling through them, give it the
appearance of a thronged and opulent mart, such as perhaps Thyatira
once was, when purple was its staple commodity. It still carries
on an extensive trade in cotton wool, and is still famous for the
_milesia vellera fucata_, which formerly conferred celebrity upon its
neighbouring city.
The present population of Akhissar
amounts to between six and seven thousand inhabitants, of whom 1,500
are Christians of the Greek and Armenian churches, which have each
respectively a place of worship. That of the Greeks is very mean,
and the earth and numerous graves have so accumulated about it,
that it seems half buried, and is approached by a descent of many
steps. This process seems to have gone on, so as to obliterate the
former Christian edifices which stood here. There exist no traces of
them above ground, but in excavating different places, the remains
of masonry, to a considerable extent, are discovered, having once,
according to tradition, formed the foundation of Christian churches.
Shafts of mutilated columns are often found obtruding above the soil
in cemeteries and other places−-all that exist of buildings once
standing on the surface. It is probable that many of these marked fanes
dedicated to Diana, whose worship was very extensive in Asia, and not
confined to Ephesus; she appears to have been the tutelar deity of
Thyatira also, and several inscriptions intimate the extent of her
influence and the devotion of her worshippers, till both yielded to a
superior power, and the visionary train of heathen deities vanished
before the light of the gospel.
Among the very agreeable accessories of this place, is the abundance
of pure water with which it is supplied; perennial streams run down
from the hills by which it is surrounded, and, meandering through the
more level ground, and imparting freshness and fertility to the meadows
and gardens of its environs, they enter the city, conducted by various
courses formed for the purpose. This fluid, essential to the Osmanli,
both as a natural and religious want, they prize and cherish so dearly,
that expedients are used to collect it, where it is available. At Ak
Hissar they have taken more than common care; they have constructed
aqueducts consisting of more than 3000 pipes, from whence the water
issues in various channels through the streets, so that the air in the
heats of summer is constantly refreshed by the gushing streams, and the
ear soothed by the gurgling sound. This water is remarkable for its
salutary qualities; it is cool, sweet, limpid, very grateful to the
taste, and light of digestion to the stomach. The country about the
town is rich and fertile to a high degree, and the air remarkable for
its purity, fragrance, and salubrity; it has all those qualities which
the bounty of nature has conferred on the lovely plains of Asia Minor,
and has invited a larger population than is usually found in those
beautiful but now desolate regions.
It is marked, however, by Oriental circumstances revolting to European
feelings. It is surrounded by cemeteries more numerous than those
found near much larger cities. Attracted, perhaps, by the odour of
these charnel-houses, vultures abound here; instead of the cooing of
doves which marks Philadelphia, or the crepitation of the stork’s bill
which distinguishes Pergamus, the scream of this ravenous and unclean
bird is the sound most frequently heard; flocks are constantly seen
wheeling round in the air, or lighting by the road-side, covering
the fields, and so tame as quite to disregard the approach of a
passenger. It is this characteristic of the town which is presented in
our illustration−-one of its cemeteries strewn over with shafts and
mouldings of former buildings now laid to mark the graves, and vultures
flapping their wings over the corpse interred below.
[Illustration: Drawn by W. L. Leitch. Sketched by T. Allom. Engraved by H. Adlard.
CONSTANTINOPLE FROM THE HEIGHTS ABOVE EYOUB.]
This view of the city is a companion for a former. The one presented
it as it appears from the mouth of the Golden Horn, the other from
its head; and it displays many objects of interest on both sides of
a beautiful expanse of water, whose visible circumference may be
estimated at 20 miles; the length of the whole harbour being about 15
miles, and its general breadth from 8 to 10 furlongs.
Where the Cydaris and Barbyses discharge themselves into it, the
slime and mud carried down by the stream are deposited; and it forms
a flat alluvial soil, where extensive manufactories of pottery have
been established. As this is in the vicinity of a royal kiosk, it has
obtained the name of the Tuileries, for the same reason as the French
called their palace−-because it was built where a manufactory of tiles
had been established. The deposit continues to fill up the harbour, and
it is necessary to mark the new-formed shoals, for the direction of
vessels, by stakes stuck in the mud, so that this part of the harbour
exhibits a curious spectacle of a labyrinth of palisades.