The Military College—Achmet Pasha and Azmi Bey—Study of Azmi
Bey—His grateful Memories of England and the English—The
Establishment—The Lithographic Presses—Extemporaneous
Poetry—Halls of Study—Number of Students—Mathematical
Hall—The Sultan’s Gallery—The Mosque—The Mufti—The Turkish
Creed—The Imperial Closet—The Gallery of the Imperial
Suite—The Retiring-Room—The Printing-Office—The
Hospital—The Refectory—The Professor of Fortification—Negro
Officers—Moral Condition of the College—Courtesy of the
Officers—Deficiencies of the Professors—The Turks a Reading
People—Object of the Institution—Reasons of its
Failure—Smiling Enemies—Forlorn Hope—Russian
Influence—Saduk Agha—Achmet Pasha—Azmi Bey—Apology for my
Prolixity.
The Military College, which, from its extent, and the lavish liberality
of its arrangements, may well be termed a princely establishment,
occupies the crest of a hill immediately above the Imperial palace of
Dolma Batché, signifying the “Valley of Gourds”—and the tall minaret of
its mosque shoots upwards into the blue heaven with the grace and
lightness of a sky-winged arrow; while the gilded crescent in the centre
of the dome reflects back the sparkling sunbeams as they flash upon its
glittering surface.
As I had brought an introductory letter to Achmet Pasha, the governor,
and had been personally acquainted in London with Azmi Bey, the
Military Commandant, and, in fact, Principal of the Institution, I
experienced no difficulty whatever in obtaining permission to pay it a
visit; and I accordingly proceeded thither, accompanied by my father and
a couple of friends, who were, like myself, anxious to form a correct
opinion of the establishment.
We were met at the great entrance by the young Bey himself, who welcomed
us with the most sincere cordiality; and, offering me his arm with a
ready politeness quite European, he conducted us to his private
apartment, or, perhaps, I should rather call it, study. This very
cheerful and comfortable room, situated at an angle of the building, and
commanding two magnificent points of view, was thickly hung with English
and French engravings, principally interiors of our metropolitan
buildings, college-halls, theatres, and other places of public resort,
highly coloured—a large stove gave forth an agreeable warmth—the
window seats were strown with books and papers—a few maps were lying
upon a side table—a curious collection of volumes was gathered together
in a small bookcase—and the apartment had altogether a more furnished
and snug look than any which I had yet seen inhabited by a Turk—there
were flowers also in a glass vase; and a paper-presser on which a
sleeping Cupid lay stretched listlessly among his fabled roses—the
souvenir of an European friend.
We remained some time talking over past days, and I was sincerely
pleased by the fond and grateful manner in which he spoke of England,
and his English acquaintance. He reminded me of several little by-gone
incidents, inquired for particular individuals, and exhibited a warmth
of feeling and interest in the past for which I was scarcely prepared.
During the conversation, tea was handed to us in the Russian fashion by
his dragoman, attended by two negro slaves, and after partaking of it we
commenced our survey of the establishment.
[Illustration: Miss Pardoe del.
Day & Haghe Lith^{rs}. to the King.
THE MILITARY COLLEGE.
_Pub^d. by Henry Colburn, 13 G^t. Marlborough S^t._]
The main building forms three sides of a square, and the centre of the
fourth is occupied by an elegant kiosk-like edifice, containing the
lithographic presses. Here we found an individual designing a very
neatly-ornamented sheet-almanac, of which he had sketched the border
with great delicacy. All the machinery is English, and appears to be in
constant use. I have omitted to mention that, before we quitted the
apartment of Azmi Bey, he presented to us several of the Professors, who
entered to pay their respects. Among these, the most remarkable was
Saduk Agha, a Prussian renegade, who speaks French, Italian, and Turkish
fluently, and has a considerable knowledge of English. After conversing
with him for some time on the merits of lithography, and examining a
number of drawings, principally military figures, that had been executed
by the pupils of the establishment, and were many of them of
considerable merit; he joined his entreaties to those of Azmi Bey that I
would write a few lines as evidence of my visit, which they might put
under the press. Finding that they were both determined to succeed, and
not considering the point worthy of contention, I complied with the
request, not a little amused at my first appearance in print in Turkey:
and I much doubt whether any thing that I have hitherto written, am now
writing, or may hereafter write, will ever be read and re-read with so
much apparent _gusto_ as the half dozen lines of doggrel verse which I
improvised on a scrap of torn paper, _sur la plante des pieds_,
surrounded by about a score of Turkish spectators.
From this point, we proceeded to the inner or garden court, of which one
side is laid out in a parterre inclosure, the centre being occupied by
the mosque, and the extreme end terminated by the two great halls of
study. We entered the first of these by a noble flight of stone steps,
and found ourselves in an apartment of vast extent, admirably lighted,
and arranged with the most perfect order and conveniency. Thickly set
rows of high-backed benches of stained wood extended the whole depth of
the hall, leaving a passage on either side just sufficiently wide for
the ingress and egress of visitors; and the first ranges of seats were
occupied by about one hundred and fifty of the junior pupils, who were
busily employed in tracing upon their slates the elegant characters of
their language, as sentence after sentence was slowly declaimed by the
head boy of the class. This department of the institution is on the
Lancastrian system.
There are at present only three hundred students on the establishment; a
report having been promulgated by its enemies that an attempt would be
made to interfere with their religious tenets; in consequence of which
many parents declined sending their sons: the only answer of the
Governors to this calumny has been to compel the attendance of the boys
three times a day at the mosque; a tolerably convincing proof that they
entertain no anti-Mohammedan partialities.
As the School is expressly intended as a nursery for the army, all the
ambition of the students is made to bear upon that point: extraordinary
application, or regularity of conduct, is recompensed by a step of
military rank; and thus, should the intention of the authorities ever be
borne out, a youth of talent and good conduct may hereafter quit the
college as an officer, and thus commence his actual career of life,
where many of his predecessors have terminated their’s.
Having traversed the Lancastrian class, we reached the mathematical
hall, where a considerable number of young men were busily engaged in
colouring ground-plans of the surrounding country. The lower end of this
stately apartment forms a deep bay, round which rows of seats are
arranged amphitheatrically, having in the midst of them a table whereon
are placed globes, charts, and all the requisites for study. The other
extremity of the hall is terminated by a raised gallery, intended for
the use of the Sultan, above which hangs his portrait in oils, executed
by an Armenian artist, harsh, and crude, and wiry, as though it had been
the production of a Chinese easel, and surmounted by a most elaborate
drapery. Beneath the portrait is stretched a noble map of the
Archipelago, the Sea of Marmora, and the Bosphorus. An electrifying
machine, and a large map of America, an immense table, and the desks and
seats of the students, made up the remainder of the furniture; and the
apartment itself was by far the finest that I had yet seen in the
country.
The next point of curiosity was the mosque; and I was no less surprised
than gratified at the readiness with which Azmi Bey acceded to our
desire of visiting it. The outer apartment, or vestibule, was covered
with fine Indian matting, and before we traversed it the Bey requested
my father to put off his boots, though he made no objection to my
retaining my slippers. As we reached the door which opened into the body
of the mosque, I perceived that we had arrived during the prayers. The
High Priest sat with his arms folded above his ample robe; his dark brow
surmounted by a turban of the sacred green, and his feet doubled under
him, in a recess facing the entrance, chanting in a nasal and monotonous
drawl; while a very slender congregation was scattered over the floor,
squatted upon the rich carpets that covered it. But we no sooner made
our appearance than the Mufti rose and quitted the mosque, followed by
his little flock; and we were left in quiet possession of the elegant
temple whence they had so hastily withdrawn.
The faith of the Musselmauns is that of love, not fear: to believe in
One GOD, and to be charitable—and who shall deny that it is a
comprehensive creed? The mosque in which we stood was the very
embodiment of such a worship—the sunshine streamed through its many
windows upon the most delicate fresco-painting, the brightest and
richest of carpets, and the glittering lattices of the Imperial closet.
The only dark object that met the eye was a curtain of olive-coloured
cloth, surrounded by a bordering of flowers, delicately worked in tinted
silks, which veiled the entrance of the marble steps leading to the
pulpit—all beside was dazzlingly bright, and it was almost with regret
that I returned into the vestibule, in order to ascend to the Sultan’s
gallery.
A small hall and a handsome flight of stairs, closely covered with
English carpeting, conducted us to an elegant anti-room, from which four
doors, veiled by draperies of dove-coloured cloth heavily fringed,
opened into as many apartments, appropriated to the Sultan and his
suite.
The Imperial closet is richly hung with gold-coloured draperies, that
fling a sunset glow on the surrounding objects: a magnificent sofa
occupies one side of the room, and the floor is covered with a Brussels
carpet. Portions of the gilded lattice open and shut at pleasure; and
the whole has so perfectly Oriental an effect, that you involuntarily
think of Scheherazade and her fable-loving Sultan; and forget the
sanctity of the place, while contemplating the luxury of its
arrangement.
The gallery appropriated to the Imperial suite adjoins the closet, and
beyond this is the retiring-room of the Sultan, wherein he performs his
ablutions, previously to the commencement of the service. It is less
gorgeous in its general effect than the closet, but commands a noble
view of the Bosphorus, and the Sea of Marmora.
On leaving the mosque, we descended by a flight of stone steps into the
vaults beneath it, to visit the printing-office, where all was activity:
compositors were setting the types—“devils” were guiding the
rollers—lads were folding the printed sheets—and binders were
stitching them into volumes. Every thing was clean, and orderly, and
well conducted.
We next made a tour of the hospital; and, had not two of the beds been
tenanted, I should have quitted the establishment, if not with a firm
conviction, at least with a very strong suspicion, that it was intended
merely for show, it was so delicately clean and so beautifully arranged.
At the head of the stairs was the receiving-room of the surgeon; and
beyond this, on either side of the gallery, were the laboratory and the
surgery, their doors veiled with white muslin, and every article in its
place; the dormitories, which are only two in number, each capable of
containing about a score of patients, were carpeted along the centre;
the beds were tastefully draperied with muslin: and a small table stood
near each pillow; while along the cornice of the ceiling were suspended,
at regular distances, small tablets, whereon were inscribed the names of
the different diseases to be treated in the ward.
The refectory was perfectly European in its aspect, surrounded by long
narrow tables and benches, and well supplied with plates, spoons,
forks, and soup-ladles. As we entered, Azmi Bey looked towards us
confidently for applause. He had truly worked a goodly reform in Turkish
habits, when he taught each boy to put his fork into his own plate,
instead of plunging his fingers into the dish of the community! Nor did
we fail to compliment him on the change.
By the time that we had completed our survey of the Establishment, our
“tail” would have been no contemptible rival to that of Mr.
O’Connell—every Professor and Officer connected with the Institution
having made his bow, and joined the party. And not the least conspicuous
of the number was the Professor of Fortification, who, besides being a
Creole, had one of the most frightful and resolute squints I ever had
the misfortune to meet with; and the Captain of the Guard, a very
corpulent and consequential negro. Black officers and soldiers are,
however, common in Turkey, where a man’s colour is never construed into
an objection to profit by his services, nor an excuse for leaving them
unrewarded.
Having described in detail the external arrangements of the Military
College of Turkey, it now remains for me to advert to its moral
condition, and this is truly a melancholy task; for, rich as I have
shown it to be in all the outward attributes necessary to such an
Establishment, it is utterly destitute of the more essential requisites
for insuring the important end of its foundation.
Care and cost have been lavished upon it unsparingly: it is a favourite
toy of the Sultan—a subject of ceaseless thought and interest to Achmet
Pasha, to whose immediate control it has been entrusted—the one
engrossing object of Azmi Bey’s solicitude—the Great National
Scholastic Establishment—the nursery for the Imperial Army. But, alas!
despite all these advantages, it is like the Statue of Pygmalion ere it
was warmed to life—a body without a soul—matter without mind—a
splendid machine, without a competent and practised hand to call forth
its powers, and to work out its effects!
To the courtesy of the several individuals immediately connected with
the Institution, I have already borne testimony; nor does a doubt exist
in my own mind of their sincere zeal for its welfare and prosperity.
But, unhappily, the best intentions, and the most earnest enthusiasm,
must fail to compensate the painful deficiency of that talent and
experience necessary to its success. Could sentiment be deepened into
science, and inclination be wrought into ability, the Military College
would take high ground; for the students are eager in the pursuit of
knowledge, but, where the means are limited, the effects must be
comparatively inconsequent: and it is a melancholy truth that the
untiring application, the admirable docility, and the promising talents
of the pupils, can only conduct them to a certain point, beyond which
their best efforts will not enable them to progress unassisted. This is
more particularly the fact as regards the youth of Turkey, from the
circumstance of their being by nature imitative rather than inventive;
and, moreover, not possessing those opportunities of observation and
individual research which lead the students of Europe to rely in no
trifling degree upon their own mental resources.
In our western world the wings of Genius are never clipped—the sunny
path of Talent is never overshadowed—the calm brow of Science is never
clouded—by a deficiency in the means of further improvement,
encouragement, and support. But Education, as we comprehend the term, is
yet in its first infancy in Turkey; and should the same evil influence
which is now blighting with its Upas breath the Ottoman atmosphere be
long suffered to exhale its poisonous properties, it is certain to
annihilate all power of improvement.
Perhaps, with the single exception of Great Britain, there exists not in
the world a more reading nation than Turkey. I have no doubt that this
assertion will startle many individuals in Europe, who have been
accustomed, and, indeed, led to believe, that the natives of the East
are, as a people, plunged in the profoundest ignorance. It is,
nevertheless, a fact that nearly every man throughout the Empire can
read and write, and that there are at this moment upwards of eight
thousand children scattered through the different schools of the
capital. But the studies of the Osmanlis of both sexes have, with some
few exceptions, hitherto been confined to the Koran, and to works of an
inconsequent and useless description; the mere plaything of an idle
hour, incapable of inspiring one novel idea, or of leaving upon the mind
impressions calculated to exalt or to enlighten it.
The object of such an Institution as a Public School was undoubtedly to
widen the mental views, and to enlarge the tastes of the youth of
Turkey. But, in order to effect this very desirable end, it was
requisite that the soundest judgment should be exercised in the
selection of the individuals to whom were committed its different
departments of literature and science, and this was unfortunately far
from being the case; the internal economy of the Establishment having
been entrusted to persons so decidedly incompetent that, with every
desire to do their duty, they have erred, from their utter ignorance of
the extent of the task which they have undertaken, or which has been
forced upon them.
As far as the different Professors are capable of so doing, they have
directed the studies and formed the tastes of the students; but the
young and ardent mind, thirsting after knowledge, and earnest in its
acquirement, demands assistance as progressive as its own advancement.
The fresh and buoyant spirit requires external aid, at once able and
judicious, to support its vigour, and to strengthen its yet unpractised
wing. And where these fail, where the shadow is alone furnished, while
the substance is wanting, what can be expected from the comparatively
unassisted efforts of young and unformed intellects, that have not
simply to struggle onward towards a goal to be attained only by their
best energies; but also to contend against, and to cast from them, a
crowd of early prejudices and associations—while they are destitute of
the assistance of more experienced and mature talents, upon which to
fall back, when they have themselves just acquired sufficient knowledge
to feel their own deficiencies?
Let it not be believed for an instant that the Turks, had they been left
to the free exercise of their own good sense and reflection, are so
obtuse as not to have made the discovery that the progress of the pupils
was necessarily retarded by the inexperience and incompetency of the
preceptors. He who judges thus hastily will wrong them. Already had the
suspicion sprung up in their minds—already did those on whom the
authority for so doing more particularly devolved suggest the
expediency of procuring, from Europe, men of talent, science, and
judgment, capable of sustaining the credit of the Establishment. But the
project was crushed in the bud; negatived on its first suggestion; set
aside by a single sentence; _that_ sentence which has become
all-powerful in Constantinople—and thus the ruin of the Institution is
already sealed by the incapacity of its professors, the prejudices of
its enemies, and the lavish and deceitful encomiums of its false
friends.
Achmet Pasha has been told that never did establishment prosper like the
Military College of Constantinople. A foreign minister has declared it
perfect; and obsequious secretaries and _attachés_ have raised their
hands and eyes in almost religious wonder. Compliments have been
lavished on the meagre talents of the masters, and smiles have veiled
their deficiencies. And thus, flattered into a belief of their own
sufficiency on the one hand, and misled by misstatements on the other,
the influential individuals connected with the unhappy College have
abandoned it to the ruin which must ultimately, and at no distant
period, overtake it; from the hopeless incapacity of a set of men, who,
familiar with the name of every science under Heaven, are most of them
profoundly ignorant of all save the first rudiments of each; and who
are, consequently, ill calculated to work that great moral change so
ardently desired by all the true friends of Turkey.
I put forth this assertion boldly, because I have convinced myself of
its justice; and if—after having stated the eagerness with which the
students seek to acquire information, the care and cost that have been
lavished on the College itself, and the zeal and untiring watchfulness
of those to whose charge it has been intrusted—I am asked the simple
question of wherefore this great National Institution is crippled in so
senseless and ruinous a manner by the appointment of inefficient
individuals to its most important and responsible posts, the answer is
ready—It is the will of Russia!
The growth of knowledge is the destruction of tyranny and oppression: it
is the moral axe struck to the core of the wide-spreading Banian of
usurpation and encroachment—it is the light of mind, dispelling the
darkness of prejudice and falsehood.
Were Turkey once roused to a perfect estimate of her own moral power,
she must inevitably cast off the web that has been slowly and craftily
woven about her; and which, should no friendly hand disentangle its
intricate threads ere it be yet too late, must ultimately fetter her
strength beyond all power of resuscitation. To do this she must take an
enlarged and correct view of her position—she must be able to
appreciate her just value among the nations—she must be capable of
combating sophistry with caution, and craft with calculative wisdom.
This power she can only acquire by placing herself upon a mental
equality with more civilized Europe; by training up her youth to habits
of reflection and scientific research; by awakening within their breasts
the generous emulation of excellence; and by opening before them paths
of honour and advancement, no longer to be trodden by the weak foot of
chance, but sacred to superior merit and superior genius.
All this must Turkey accomplish ere she can once again be great and
free. And it is to prevent this that the subtle policy of her archenemy,
Russia, strains every nerve, and exerts every energy—the blandishments
of a flattery, to which she is constitutionally too susceptible for her
real welfare—the threats of a strength beneath which she is
unfortunately already bowed almost to the dust—for should some generous
spark of honour be aroused to resistance, there is the unanswerable
declaration—_L’Empereur le veut!_ beyond which there is no appeal.
Thus Russia looked upon the College with a jealous eye—it might, if
suffered to progress towards perfection unchecked, ultimately become a
great moral engine in the hands of the Turkish government: and this was,
of course, not to be permitted. The Russian Legation consequently took
an overwhelming and most generous interest in all the details of the
establishment; laughed to scorn the necessity of European science and
European assistance, where native talent was so rife—employed her
creatures in writing complimentary and fulsome panegyrics on the
Institution, which were lithographed at the school, and translated for
the Sultan; and, in short, administered such copious draughts of
flattery to all connected with the establishment, that their soporific
effects are painfully apparent in the quiet, self-gratulatory, smiling
satisfaction of those, who, while they believe that they are nursing the
new-born Institution into vigour, are actually closing their encircling
arms so tightly about its throat that they are strangling it in its
first weakness.
The School has but one hope—and that is unhappily faint and afar off.
There are now between thirty and forty promising young men studying in
Europe, who may perchance one day be enabled to effect its
resuscitation. But years must elapse ere the most gifted pupils are
eligible to become preceptors: and before those years are past, what may
be the fate of Turkey? England must resolve the question.
At present it is certain that the Military College is indirectly under
Russian control and patronage; all the professors having been selected
openly or covertly by themselves. And thus, one individual, for the
limited remuneration of about £200 a year, not having the fear of
ridicule before his eyes, gravely undertakes to impart to his pupils the
knowledge of some half dozen sciences, among which geography and
astronomy are far from being the most profound or conspicuous.
Saduk Agha, of whom I have already spoken, is a man of distinguished
abilities, who, had he been suffered to do so, might have materially
assisted the studies of the pupils; but this point would have been too
mighty for Russian policy to concede; and, as it was not judged prudent
to exclude him altogether, and thus draw down remarks which might have
proved inconvenient, his services were secured at a salary of £150 a
year, to teach the Prussian game entitled _Le Jeu de Guerre_, which is a
species of dissected military map, put together precisely like the
puzzles used by children in England.
Achmet Pasha, (to whom, as I have already remarked, the superintendence
of the Institution has been immediately confided), however much he may
desire its prosperity, has scarcely time, talent, or opportunity, (as I
think it will be conceded when I have enumerated his multitudinous
avocations) to give to it the care and attention which it requires from
its Principal; or to bestow upon it that watchful _surveillance_ so
necessary to the prosperity of an Establishment for youth. He is Grand
Chamberlain—Generalissimo of the Imperial Guard—Governor of the
Military College—Director of the Roads—Grand Master of the
Artillery—Head of the Police—Inspector of Naval Architecture—_pro
tempore_ Lord of the Admiralty, and Governor of Natolia—in short, he
either is, or requires to be, an universal genius.
Azmi Bey, the Military Commandant, with a zeal which retains him a
willing prisoner almost constantly within the walls of the college, and
an enthusiasm that neither difficulties nor disappointments have yet
quenched, is, nevertheless, too young and too inexperienced to be equal
to meet efficiently the weighty responsibility that has been thrust upon
him; and for which he is indebted to a quickness of observation, an
ardent desire of improvement, and a facility of imitation, called forth
and developed by his brief residence in Europe. All that he was
competent to effect, he has already accomplished; for he has reduced to
order the chaos of conflicting prejudices and associations, and habits,
which met him, Hydra-headed, on the very threshold of his task. From his
limited experience of European feelings and manners, he has also
profited sufficiently to enable him to adopt much that was worthy of
imitation; while, on the other hand, he has judiciously rejected much of
which the utility and desirableness were at best problematical. The
easy, I may almost say, affectionate manner of all around him convince
you at once that he is gentle in his rule; while the earnestness with
which he interests himself in the most minute details connected with the
Establishment is an equal proof of his unfeigned desire for its success.
But the brevity of his European sojourn, and the confusion of ideas, and
hurry of mind, consequent on a residence in London during the height of
the season—the rapidity with which he was whirled from military and
naval colleges to railroads and manufactories, from museums and
libraries to public gardens and theatres—could scarcely, even with the
most ceaseless efforts on his own part, have afforded opportunities for
study, or time for reflection and research, calculated to render him the
efficient mainspring of so complicated and delicate a piece of machinery
as a great National Academy.
I fear that I have been prolix on the subject of this interesting
Establishment, which might have become a moral sceptre in the hand of a
future Sultan, and which is now “a vain shadow” and “a whitewashed
sepulchre;” but it is impossible not to feel deeply the cruel wrong
committed by the false sophisms of a smiling enemy, towards a confiding
and unsuspicious people; yet was my sympathy unmingled with surprise.
Did not Russia refuse to allow the Porte to ratify the engagements
entered into by Reschid Bey with the European officers whom he had
selected for the service of the Sultan? And was it probable that she
would permit a nearer and a more certain danger without an effort to
annihilate it?
One more question, and I have done. Will the traveller in Turkey, fifty
years hence, have any thing to tell of the Military College of
Constantinople? Alas! I doubt it.