On coming out of the cemetery we found ourselves in another Christian
quarter--Pankaldi--traversed by wide streets lined with new buildings
and surrounded by gardens, villas, hospitals, and large barracks. This
is the suburb of Constantinople farthest away from the sea. After
having seen which, we turned back to redescend to the Golden Horn. On
reaching the last street, however, we came unexpectedly upon a new
and strikingly solemn scene. It was a Greek funeral procession, which
advanced slowly toward us between a dense and perfectly silent crowd
of people packed together on either side of the street. Heading the
procession came a group of Greek priests in their long embroidered
garments; then the archimandrite wearing a crown upon his head and
a long cape embroidered in gold; behind him were a number of young
ecclesiastics clad in brilliant colors, and a group of friends and
relatives, all wearing their richest garments, and in their midst the
bier, covered with flowers, on which lay the body of a young girl of
about fifteen dressed in satin and resplendent with jewels. The face
was exposed--such a dear little face, white as snow, the mouth slightly
contracted as if in pain, and two long tresses of beautiful black
hair lying across the shoulders and breast. The bier passes, the crowd
closes in behind the procession, which is quickly lost to sight, and we
find ourselves standing, sobered and thoughtful, in the midst of the
deserted street.