CONSTANTINOPLE AND SANTA SOPHIA.
On Wednesday morning, February twenty-fifth, the ladies donned winter
wraps and the gentlemen heavy overcoats for their morning promenades on
deck. All night the Moltke had steamed northward and the region of palms
and orange trees had been left behind. By referring to the large atlas
of the world in the library, we found that we were in the same latitude
as that of New York City.
As we approached the entrance to the Strait of Dardanelles, the ancient
Hellespont, which connects the AEgean Sea with the Sea of Marmora, the
Turkish fortifications crowning the hills on both sides of the channel
were plainly visible. Under the great guns of the fortresses the Moltke
anchored.
"Why do we stop here?" inquired one of the tourists of the surgeon, who
was standing near watching the shore.
"This is the quarantine station," replied the doctor, "and we must wait
here for the official inspection. According to Turkish regulations, the
passage of foreign warships through the Dardanelles is absolutely
prohibited at any time and merchant vessels are not allowed to enter
during the night. Every vessel arriving here must undergo inspection
before receiving a permit to proceed. The Sultan guards this gateway to
the most vulnerable part of his dominion, not only to prevent the
entrance of a hostile fleet, but to protect his people from the
incursions of that insidious foe, the plague, which sometimes ravages
the Eastern countries. There come the officials now in response to our
signals," he added as a yacht steamed out from the shore. "I must go
with the captain to welcome them at the head of the gangway."
[Illustration: I. WITHIN SIGHT OF DOMES AND MINARETS.]
[Illustration: II. FAMOUS ST. SOPHIA HAS FOUR MINARETS.]
The Turkish quarantine physician in red fez and handsome fur overcoat,
accompanied by his assistants and the inspector, came on board. Madam
Rumor whispers that a good sized tip sometimes obviates tedious personal
examinations and insures prompt issuance of a clean bill of health
without exasperating delays. However it was, the quarantine physician,
after consulting with the ship physician, quickly found the health
conditions satisfactory, and the inspector of cargoes granted his
permit. The pilot who was to guide the vessel through the swiftly
flowing current of the Hellespont joined us here, and with him came the
dragoman or chief guide who had been engaged by the managers to take
special charge of the sight-seeing excursions of our party while in
Constantinople.
Proceeding slowly on our way, we noticed half a dozen Turkish warships
lying in the stream near by. One who claimed to know said that the
Turkish naval vessels had been gathering barnacles and mussels for four
years and were unfit for active service. But the fortresses guarding the
strait, he said, were in excellent condition and well equipped with
batteries of modern make.
The Strait of Dardanelles, for a distance of forty miles separating the
continent of Asia from that of Europe, varies in width, narrowing to
less than one mile at some places and broadening out to four miles at
others. By referring to the steamer's atlas, consulting guide books,
exchanging historical knowledge, and questioning good-natured officials,
the tourists obtained information about the various points of interest
that they were passing. Beyond the entrance, at the narrowest point of
the strait, the place was pointed out where the Persian king Xerxes with
his vast army crossed the channel on a bridge of boats for the invasion
of Europe in the year 480 B.C.
"Little then," remarked a tourist, "did that imperious invader dream
that within a year, in humiliation and defeat, and with only a poor
remnant of that great army, he would recross that strait to Asia again."
At the same place in the channel, we were informed, Alexander the Great
with his Greek legions crossed from Europe in the year 334 B.C. and
continued his victorious march until all the then known portion of Asia
was subdued to his rule.
"Then," said another tourist, "when flushed with victory, he wept for
other worlds to conquer. To me the saddest part of Alexander's history
is that he was himself conquered by his own appetite and never returned
to his native shore."
Another tragic tale connected with that place is the story of Hero and
Leander. Across that mile of swiftly flowing current, the story says,
Leander nightly swam from Abydos to the tower on the opposite shore to
visit his beloved Hero, the priestess of Venus. In one of his nightly
excursions the swimmer was drowned in a storm, and Hero, after hearing
of Leander's death, despairingly threw herself into the sea to share his
sad fate.
"There is the height from which Hero cast herself," said an official,
"and this is the place where Lord Byron, in emulation of Leander,
performed the same difficult feat of swimming the channel."
To the right, on the Asian shore not far away, was the plain of Troy
where Dr. Schlieman won fame by making the excavations and discoveries
which led to the location of the lost city of Troy. In this ancient city
of Troy, according to Homer, the beautiful Grecian princess Helen,
abducted by Paris, the son of the King of Troy, was detained for ten
years. The enraged Greeks under Ulysses and Ajax, seeking to rescue the
princess, besieged the city and finally succeeded in entering its gates
and accomplishing their purpose by means of the stratagem of a huge
wooden horse.
After sailing through the length of the Sea of Marmora, about one
hundred and ten miles, we arrived at five o'clock in the evening within
sight of the domes and minarets that crown the promontory at the
entrance to the Strait of Bosporus. From the time we caught our first
glimpse of a distant minaret, until the anchor of our steamer was
dropped in the channel, every tourist was intent on the picturesque
views which presented themselves. While the Moltke was steadily moving
onward and our point of view continually changing, the dragoman at
intervals pointed out the various places of interest, now on one side,
now on the other.
[Illustration: IS CALLED SERAGLIO POINT.]
"The Strait of Bosporus, which we are now approaching, is here a little
over a mile in width," said he. "The part of the city you see on the
headland on the north shore of the Strait is the oldest part of
Constantinople, and is called Stamboul. It is occupied principally by
Turks, Greeks, Armenians, and Jews. The most celebrated mosques, and
also the great bazaars in which tourists delight to wander, are in
Stamboul."
"That dome with six minarets surrounding it, partially hidden by the
intervening trees and buildings, is the Mosque of Ahmed, one of the most
interesting in the city. Beyond it you can see the dome and four
minarets of the more famous St. Sophia. The name of this is probably
familiar to you, for almost every visitor whom I have escorted has told
me that he had heard of the Mosque of St. Sophia."
"And that is Scutari," he continued, calling our attention to the city
on the Asiatic shore of the strait. "The great square yellow building so
prominent on that side is the military barracks. The large structure
nearer us is the military hospital where the English lady nursed the
soldiers during the war with Russia fifty years ago. Perhaps you have
heard of the lady?"
We informed the dragoman that the noble work of Florence Nightingale
during the Crimean war was well known to the American people, and her
name held in high honor by them.
"The point beyond us on the left," said the guide a few minutes later,
"is called Seraglio Point. The portion of the city on the promontory,
extending along the Bosporus, is about one mile in length and half a
mile in width and is called the Seraglio. In these extensive grounds
are the well guarded Treasury buildings containing the accumulated
treasures of centuries, the Imperial Museum of Antiquities, and many
other public edifices. There also are the palaces, kiosks, and gardens,
which were occupied by the Sultans and their families until the present
Sultan changed his residence to another part of the city.
"The stream of water to our left," he added as our steamer rounded
Seraglio Point, "is called the Golden Horn, so named on account of its
curved shape. This inlet of the Bosporus, not over one-third of a mile
in width, separates the older Stamboul from old Galata and newer Pera.
Over the two bridges across this inlet streams of people pass
constantly. Galata is the business section of the city which includes
the wharves, steamship offices, and wholesale establishments. Pera,
situated on the heights above Galata, contains the residences of the
wealthier class, as well as hotels, modern stores, and the residences of
the ambassadors and consuls."
After passing the mouth of the Golden Horn, the Moltke slackened speed
and anchored in the Bosporus apposite Galata, a little way from the
shore. Prominent on the shore at the water's edge, not far from our
anchorage, stood a small but beautiful white mosque with delicate
minarets, and just beyond it a snow white palace of magnificent size.
"The white marble building that you see extending for some distance
along the Bosporus," said the guide, "is the Dolmah Bagcheh Palace of
the Sultan, one of the magnificent palaces which he does not occupy.
Once or twice a year he holds a reception there. In the distance along
the water is the Cheraghan Palace where the imprisoned ex-Sultan Murad,
the elder brother of the present Sultan, for many years had every luxury
but liberty. And on the heights just beyond those grounds is Yildiz
Kiosk, the palace where now lives the present ruler of Turkey, his
Imperial Majesty, Sultan Abdul Hamid. Strangers are not permitted to
enter its gates, but we have obtained his Imperial Majesty's permission
to take your party through the Dolmah Bagcheh Palace."
[Illustration: THE BREAD DEALERS CONSENTED TO BE KODAKED.]
Our steamer had barely anchored when a steam yacht flying the emblem of
Turkey, a red flag with a white crescent and star, appeared alongside.
Several red-fezzed Turkish officials, on whose green frock coats dangled
medals and badges, mounted the stairway to receive the report of the
vessel and examine and vise the passports of the passengers. The
stewards collected the passports and handed them to the Sultan's
officers, who afterwards returned them stamped in queer-looking
characters with the official seal of the Turkish government.
"Captain, can you not send us ashore?" requested some of the tourists
after the evening dinner was over.
"I would gladly send you ashore if I considered it safe for you to go,"
replied the Captain, "but I advise you to remain on board. There is
little to be seen after sunset in this unlighted city. Although the
principal streets are lighted with gas, many of the streets depend upon
the moon and stars and so on cloudy nights are left in utter darkness.
Strangers may with safety wander around the city during the day, but it
is dangerous for them to do so at night. The lower part of the city
along the wharves is infested with thieves who have little regard for
the life of an infidel, and who under cover of darkness would cut one's
throat and cast the body into the stream in order to secure a few
valuables."
The Captain's advice was taken and the evening was delightfully spent on
the vessel. The American Consul and his wife came on board to meet some
friends and to welcome all the Americans. Then, according to a plan
which had been made by the managers of the tour, a resident of the city
delivered an instructive address on the history of Constantinople. The
lecturer told of Constantine the Great, first Christian emperor and
founder of the city; of Justinian, the imperial legislator and builder,
and his empress Theodora, the beautiful comedian who became a queen; of
the heroic warrior Belisarius and his emperor's ingratitude; of the
Greek girl Irene who rose to supreme power; of the bloody religious
riots and theological disputes; of the Nicene Council and adoption of
the Nicene creed; and of the pillage of Constantinople by the ruthless
Crusaders. He told also of the marriage ceremonies, of the art and
commerce, and of the places of interest about the city. His remarks
about the former trade and literature of the city were most interesting.
"During the earlier centuries of the Eastern Roman Empire," said the
lecturer, "Constantinople, the capital, was a great centre of trade, an
exchange market for the products of the world. Caravans brought the
treasures of the East to the storehouses here to be bartered for the
cargoes of produce which came in ships from the West. This exchange
brought wealth and prosperity to the city. In later centuries the
Venetians and Genoese succeeded in transferring much of this business to
Venice and Genoa and the trade of Constantinople declined. In modern
days steamships and the Suez canal have completely changed the route of
commerce.
"Constantinople, not only was a centre of trade, but in the Twelfth and
Thirteenth centuries it was the centre of literature. During the dark
ages, when the study of literature was generally neglected in other
places, the lamp of learning burned brightly in this city. Libraries
were established and manuscripts accumulated; but at the time of the
Turkish invasion a multitude of the most valuable documents were
destroyed. When the Renaissance brought new life to the western shores,
the centre of literature moved to Italy, and printed books took the
place of manuscripts."
[Illustration: OUR CARRIAGES RATTLED OVER THE PLANK BRIDGE.]
When we thought of the present standing of Turkey among the nations of
the world, it was difficult to realize that for centuries Constantinople
was the commercial centre and the brilliant capital of the world. It was
even more difficult to realize that the country which now prohibits the
importation of foreign books and papers was at one time the patron of
art, literature, and learning, the collector of great libraries of
illuminated manuscripts, theological discourses, and legal documents.
But that was centuries ago.
Thursday morning ushered in a bright, clear, cool day. We were up early,
eager for sight-seeing, and little boats soon carried us to the custom
house pier on the Galata side. Open carriages drawn by wiry Turkish
horses and driven by Turkish drivers were there in readiness to carry us
across the Golden Horn to explore the sights of Stamboul. As our
carriages rattled over the plank pontoon bridge with its drawbridge in
the center, we passed through a crowd of people more varied as to
nationality and costume than can be seen at almost any other place on
the globe. The Turks, of course, predominated, their nationality being
indicated by the national head-gear,--the red fez. The wealthier Turks
wore the English style of clothing and the red fez. The costumes of the
other classes varied according to their occupation. On the bridge as
our driver guided his team through the throng, we saw Turkish soldiers
in blue uniforms and red fez; Moslems wearing a green sash around the
fez to indicate that they had performed a pilgrimage to Mecca;
stately-looking bearded Greek priests in black robes and peculiar hats;
Nubians with black glistening skins and tattooed faces; Moslem priests
with pure white turbans, and Moslem priests with high green turbans;
Russian or Hungarian peasants with coats of sheep skin, the fleecy sides
of which were turned inward; Dervishes in brown mantles, and high-coned
brown hats without brims; Hebrews in long yellow coats and little curls
at the sides of their heads; Turks in gold embroidered trousers and
jackets and long flowing blue sleeves; Turkish women with faces closely
veiled, and negro women who concealed their features behind white veils
in the same manner as the Turkish women.
[Illustration: A STRUCTURE DIFFERING IN DESIGN FROM ANY OTHER CHRISTIAN
TEMPLE.]
"Those cakes looked so good, I was almost tempted to take one off the
tray," said one of the occupants of our carriage, as a peddler carrying
on his head a table filled with cakes and pastry passed so closely that
his wares were within reach.
"Oh, how could you think of doing such a thing," hastily exclaimed her
companion, horrified at the thought, "we should all be placed in a
dungeon and our pleasure ended."
Peddlers of dates, bearing their stock of fruit in huge baskets on their
backs and carrying scales in one hand, held up a sample of dates towards
us with the other hand; dealers in nuts in the same manner carried and
offered their wares to the passers-by; peddlers of "Turkish delight" and
other sweetmeats arranged the candies on their trays in an attractive
manner; and the sherbet sellers called attention to the pink liquid in
large glass bottles suspended on their backs. At each end of the bridge
were half a dozen toll collectors in long white overshirts who stood in
line across the way collecting the toll of ten paras, or one cent, from
each person that crossed.
"How clearly that dome and the two minarets stand out against the
sky," exclaimed one of the party, pointing to a great dome and two
delicate minarets with tapering peaks which rose above the buildings
directly in front of us on the other side of the bridge.
[Illustration: THIS STREAM FLOWING INTO THE BOSPORUS IS CALLED THE
GOLDEN HORN.]
"That is the Mosque where the Sultans and their families went to prayer
when they resided in the Seraglio near by. We will not stop at this
Mosque but will go directly to the Mosque of St. Sophia."
"Professor," said the lady who in Athens had confessed her ignorance of
history, "please give us some information about the church of St. Sophia
while we are grouped here together in front of the building."
The professor expressed his willingness to do so, provided we were
willing to take the time to listen.
"In the year 532 A.D.," said he, "Justinian, the Emperor of the Eastern
Roman Empire, decided to erect in Constantinople a church that should be
a glory to the city and an honor to his name. His desire was to build
one 'such as since Adam has never been seen,' a structure differing in
design from any Christian temple previously constructed and surpassing
in magnificence any temple that afterwards might be built. The empire
was then at the height of its power and glory, and Justinian, in
emulation of Solomon, made demands on all the countries under his
dominion for contributions of ivory, cedar, gold, silver, precious
stones, and the rarest marbles.
"In order to attain his ambitious design, the monarch robbed the Temple
of the Sun at Baalbek of columns of porphyry, despoiled the Temple of
Diana of Ephesus of its finest pillars, took columns of pure white
marble from the Temple of Minerva at Athens, and divested the shrines
of Isis and Osiris in Egypt of their choicest granite columns. He called
upon the quarries of Italy, Greece, and the AEgean Isles for marbles of
every hue produced by them, so that, when completed, the temple should
contain the most beautiful marbles the world could yield, and these he
ordered to be highly polished and artistically arranged. To hasten the
construction, ten thousand workmen under the direction of one hundred
architects were employed, and in less than six years the immense
structure, 'the great Church of Santa Sophia, or Heavenly Wisdom,' one
of the most famous churches of the world, was ready for dedication.
"The great altar was built of silver and gold, the seven chairs of the
bishops were plated with silver, the crosses and crucifixes were
composed of pure gold, and the altar cloth and vestments were encrusted
with precious stones. Jeweled images of saints, sacred paintings of
fabulous value, and holy relics to be adored by kneeling worshipers,
were arranged around the walls of the building. The huge doors of the
temple were made of cedar, ivory, amber, and silver; the ceiling
glistened with golden mosaics; the walls shone with polished marbles:
and the capitals of the columns were laced with delicate carvings inset
with mother-of-pearl, silver, and precious stones.
"On the day of the dedication of the temple a jubilant procession of
patriarchs, bishops, priests, and people, in admiring wonder, entered
the completed building with songs and rejoicings. The Emperor, at the
head of the procession, overcome with pride and joy in the glorious
consummation of his purpose, threw himself upon the floor and
exultingly exclaimed: 'Glory to God who has deemed me worthy to
accomplish so great a work. O Solomon, I have surpassed thee!'
"In this sanctuary for over nine centuries the people worshiped God
according to the Christian faith in great pomp and with much ceremony.
The bishops officiated at the golden altar reading from golden lettered
manuscripts, and were assisted in the service by scores of richly robed
priests and hundreds of selected musicians, while the air was filled
with the fragrance of rising incense. But during the latter part of the
Middle Ages while the power and glory of the Roman Empire was gradually
declining, the rival Mohammedan Turkish Empire in Asia was rapidly
ascending to a dominant position. Finally, in the year 1453 A.D., the
Sultan of Asiatic Turkey, Muhammed II, determined to obtain possession
of Constantinople and make the city the capital of his empire. His army
besieged the decadent city and captured it after a struggle of
fifty-three days. When the Turkish troops entered in triumph they tore
the emblems of Christianity from their places and, instead of the cross
of the Christian, they raised the crescent of the Moslem.
"In the church of St. Sophia the conquerors tore down the golden altar,
melted the silver plates, removed the images of saints, painted over the
sacred pictures, and took away the jewels and precious stones, changing
the interior to suit the simpler worship of the followers of Mahomet.
The name of the building was changed and it was thereafter known as the
Mosque of Saint Sophia. For four hundred and fifty years the Mosque has
been in possession of the Turks. Its doors are open at all times for
Moslems to enter freely; but the entrance is carefully guarded to keep
Christian or foreign visitors from intruding. The latter, however, may
gain admission by paying an entrance fee of forty cents, and removing
their shoes at the door or lacing over their shoes the loose slippers
that are provided for this purpose."
[Illustration: THREE MEN RAISED THE BURDEN TO HIS SHOULDERS.]
On the porch of the Mosque we put our feet into the loose slippers, a
Moslem attendant tied them on as carefully as the clumsy things could be
tied, and then, accompanied by him, we entered the building. The immense
floor, an acre in size, was covered with handsome heavy rugs. As we
slid, rather than walked, over the soft Turkish carpets, our turbaned
guide, with sharp, piercing, black eyes, watched carefully to see that
our slippers did not become unfastened and drop off, and our infidel
shoes profane the holy enclosure. And when one of the visitors laughed
within the sacred edifice, the attendant's black eyes flashed with
anger.
It was not the regular hour for prayer in the mosque, but a number of
worshipers were devoutly kneeling at different places in the interior,
with faces turned toward a black stone in the south wall, which
indicated the direction of the holy city of Mecca. Others, squatting on
their bare heels, were reading or reciting in monotonous tones parts of
the Koran. There are no benches or chairs in the building; Moslem
worshipers do not require seats while at their devotions. The great
dome, over one hundred feet in width, rises in grandeur one hundred and
eighty feet overhead, supported by four huge columns each seventy feet
in circumference. A circle of windows, forty-four in number, around the
dome illumines the golden mosaics which cover the ceiling. A mosaic
picture in the dome representing the Almighty, has been obliterated by
the Turks and covered with green linen cloth. A verse from the Koran, in
gilt Arabic characters almost thirty feet long, is painted on this
cloth. The sentence, as translated, begins: "God is the light of
heaven and earth," and ends, "God alone sheddeth His light on whomsoever
He pleaseth."
[Illustration: THROUGH THE NARROW STREETS OF THE CITY.]
"If the Moslems believe in the Bible and in God as a supreme being, why
did they destroy the mosaic representation of God on the ceiling?"
inquired one of the visitors.
"The Moslems do believe in the Bible and in one Supreme God," was the
reply, "and it was this very belief that led them to paint out the
picture of God and to destroy all the images and paintings of saints;
for God's command is: 'Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image,
or any likeness of anything that is in the heaven above, or that is in
the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. Thou shalt
not bow down thyself to them.'"
"The Moslems," continued the guide, "regard Mahomet as the Prophet of
God, and the Koran as written by him under the inspiration of God; but
they do not worship Mahomet or any image or picture of him."
We paused to admire the four green marble columns taken from the Temple
of Diana, and the polished shafts brought from the Temple of the Sun,
relics of those two magnificent cities, Ephesus and Baalbek, of whose
grandeur nothing now remains but broken stones. We gazed upward at the
eight immense green shields covered with Arabic characters, high above
our heads on the walls. But we doubted the miraculous healing power of a
small hole that is always damp in a bronze-covered pillar, and hesitated
also to accept the tradition that the apparent imprint of a bloody hand
in the marble wall was made by the Sultan Muhammed II when he rode into
St. Sophia after the capture of the city.
"On Fridays," said the guide, as we stood at the foot of the marble
steps that led to the elevated pulpit, "the priest, clad in a long red
robe, reads a prayer for the Sultan, and, while doing so, holds in one
hand the Koran and in the other a drawn sword to indicate that this
temple was captured from the Christians by force."
"That prayer rug," he continued pointing to a beautiful carpet hanging
on the wall near by, "was the personal prayer rug of the great conqueror
Muhammed II. There is so much more to be seen," he added, "that we could
spend the whole day here, but the dragoman is beckoning and we must go
on."
We shook the slippers from our feet in the porch and were driven through
narrow streets to the Grand Bazaar.
"The Grand Bazaar," said the guide, "covers several acres. It has one
hundred entrances. There are twelve hundred narrow streets or passages
under roof within the bazaar and on these streets are four thousand
little shops."
The Grand Bazaar, we decided, was the enormous department store of
Stamboul; but we noticed that each little shop had its own proprietor.
To many of the visitors, this Bazaar was the most interesting place in
Constantinople; for here were found the most tempting bargains in
Oriental wares, in its narrow passages were seen the native people in
their most picturesque costumes, and in its maze of dimly lighted
corridors some tourists were lost for awhile and met with novel
adventures.
The store of Far-Away-Moses was one of the largest and most popular of
the shops in the Bazaar and that genial trader did a thriving business.
There seemed to be a magnetic power that drew the guides in the
direction of certain shops, an unseen influence that urged them to
recommend certain places, and one of these places was Moses' emporium.
Some of the ladies found that when they slipped away and entered a shop
without a guide a better bargain could be secured.
The price named for articles in the bazaar shops by the fezzed or
turbaned dealers was generally three times the price that they would
accept before losing a sale; but much tact was required on the part of
the purchaser, and much valuable time was occupied in the diplomatic
struggles between the acute Yankees and clever Moslems. When, however,
the battle was won and the desired article secured at one-half or
one-third the price at first demanded, the joy of the purchaser was
doubled. The person, who, after an hour's dickering, bought a bronze
ornament for twenty piasters, or one dollar of American money, was just
as happy over the bargain as the one who succeeded in purchasing a
magnificent silk rug for twenty thousand piasters. The money drawers of
the Moslem traders were swollen with their contents but their shelves
were less crowded when the Americans left the bazaar.
When we returned to the vessel we found that during our absence the
decks had been converted into a rival bazaar. The tourists who had
failed to obtain souvenirs had another opportunity to buy them; for here
were displayed silk rugs ranging in price from three thousand piasters
downward, exquisite embroideries, rare silks, delicate fans, gold-laced
shawls, fragrant attar of roses, and a multitude of articles in bronze,
silver, and gold.
"How restful it is to recline lazily in our comfortable steamer chairs
rolled up in a rug, dreaming or talking over the events of the day,
without any cares or worries to disturb our thoughts," remarked one of
our friends as we sat upon the deck in the later evening hours watching
the glimmering lights on the shore.
"Yes," said another, "there seems to be nothing to disturb the serenity
of the night; even the distant barking of the dogs appears to be in
harmony with the soft lapping of the waves against the vessel. I feel
that I shall rest to-night in my berth, as Shakespeare says, in a 'sleep
that knits the ravel'd sleeve of care,' after the exertion of a full day
of sight-seeing."