you some account of all that is curious in it, which I have taken a
great deal of pains to see. I will not trouble you with wise
dissertations, whether or no this is the same city that was anciently
called Orestesit or Oreste, which you know better than I do. It is
now called from the emperor Adrian, and was the first European seat
of the Turkish empire, and has been the favourite residence of many
sultans. Mahomet the fourth, and Mustapha, the brother of the
reigning emperor, were so fond of it, that they wholly abandoned
Constantinople; which humour so far exasperated the janizaries, that
it was a considerable motive to the rebellions that deposed them.
Yet this man seems to love to keep his court here. I can give you no
reason for this partiality. 'Tis true, the situation is fine, and
the country all round very beautiful; but the air is extremely bad,
and the seraglio itself is not free from the ill effect of it. The
town is said to be eight miles in compass, I suppose they reckon in
the gardens. There are some good houses in it, I mean large ones;
for the architecture of their palaces never makes any great shew. It
is now very full of people; but they are most of them such as follow
the court, or camp; and when they are removed, I am told, 'tis no
populous city. The river Maritza (anciently the Hebrus) on which it
is situated, is dried up every summer, which contributes very much to
make it unwholesome. It is now a very pleasant stream. There are
two noble bridges built over it. I had the curiosity to go to see
the exchange in my Turkish dress, which is disguise sufficient. Yet
I own, I was not very easy when I saw it crowded with janizaries; but
they dare not be rude to a woman, and made way for me with as much
respect as if I had been in my own figure. It is half a mile in
length, the roof arched, and kept extremely neat. It holds three
hundred and sixty-five shops, furnished with all sorts of rich goods,
exposed to sale in the same manner as at the new exchange in London.
But the pavement is kept much neater; and the shops are all so clean,
they seem just new painted.--Idle people of all sorts walk here for
their diversion, or amuse themselves with drinking coffee, or
sherbet, which is cried about as oranges and sweet-meats are in our
play-houses. I observed most of the rich tradesmen were Jews. That
people are in incredible power in this country. They have many
privileges above all the natural Turks themselves, and have formed a
very considerable commonwealth here, being judged by their own laws.
They have drawn the whole trade of the empire into their hands,
partly by the firm union amongst themselves, and partly by the idle
temper and want of industry in the Turks. Every bassa has his Jew,
who is his _homme d'affaires_; he is let into all his secrets, and
does all his business. No bargain is made, no bribe received, no
merchandise disposed of, but what passes through their hands. They
are the physicians, the stewards, and the interpreters of all the
great men. You may judge how advantageous this is to a people who
never fail to make use of the smallest advantages. They have found
the secret of making themselves so necessary, that they are certain
of the protection of the court, whatever ministry is in power. Even
the English, French, and Italian merchants, who are sensible of their
artifices, are, however, forced to trust their affairs to their
negotiation, nothing of trade being managed without them, and the
meanest amongst them being too important to be disobliged, since the
whole body take care of his interests, with as much vigour as they
would those of the most considerable of their members. They are many
of them vastly rich, but take care to make little public shew of it,
though they live in their houses in the utmost luxury and
magnificence. This copious subject has drawn me from my description
of the exchange, founded by Ali Bassa, whose name it bears. Near it
is the _sherski_, a street of a mile in length, full of shops of all
kind of fine merchandise, but excessive dear, nothing being made
here. It is covered on the top with boards, to keep out the rain,
that merchants may meet conveniently in all weathers. The _besiten_
near it, is another exchange, built upon pillars, where all sorts of
horse-furniture is sold: glittering every where with gold, rich
embroidery, and jewels, it makes a very agreeable shew. From this
place I went, in my Turkish coach, to the camp, which is to move in a
few days to the frontiers. The sultan is already gone to his tents,
and all his court; the appearance of them is, indeed, very
magnificent. Those of the great men are rather like palaces than
tents, taking up a great compass of ground, and being divided into a
vast number of apartments. They are all of green, and the _bassas of
three tails_, have those ensigns of their power placed in very
conspicuous manner before their tents, which are adorned on the top
with gilded balls, more or less, according to their different ranks.
The ladies go in coaches to see the camp, as eagerly, as ours did to
that of Hyde-park; but 'tis very easy to observe, that the soldiers
do not begin the campaign with any great cheerfulness. The war is a
general grievance upon the people, but particularly hard upon the
tradesmen, now that the grand signior is resolved to lead his army in
person. Every company of them is obliged, upon this occasion, to
make a present according to their ability.
I TOOK the pains of rising at six in the morning to see the ceremony
which did not, however, begin till eight. The grand signior was at
the seraglio window, to see the procession, which passed through the
principal streets. It was preceded by an _effendi_, mounted on a
camel, richly furnished, reading aloud the alcoran, finely bound,
laid upon a cushion. He was surrounded by a parcel of boys, in
white, singing some verses of it, followed by a man dressed in green
boughs, representing a clean husbandman sowing seed. After him
several reapers, With garlands of ears of corn, as Ceres is pictured,
with scythes in their hands, seeming to mow. Then a little machine
drawn by oxen, in which was a wind-mill, and boys employed in
grinding corn, followed by another machine, drawn by buffaloes,
carrying an oven, and two more boys, one employed in kneading the
bread, and another in drawing it out of the oven. These boys threw
little cakes on both sides amongst the crowd, and were followed by
the whole company of bakers, marching on foot, two by two, in their
best clothes, with cakes, loaves, pasties, and pies of all sorts on
their heads, and after them two buffoons, or jack-puddings, with
their faces and clothes smeared with meal, who diverted the mob with
their antic gestures. In the same manner followed all the companies
of trade in the empire; the nobler sort, such as jewellers, mercers,
&c. finely mounted, and many of the pageants that represent their
trades, perfectly magnificent; amongst which, that of the furriers
made one of the best figures, being a very large machine, set round
with the skins of ermines, foxes, &c. so well stuffed, that the
animals seemed to be alive, and followed by music and dancers. I
believe they were, upon the whole, twenty thousand men, all ready to
follow his highness, if he commanded them. The rear was closed by
the volunteers, who came to beg the honour of dying in his service.
This part of the shew seemed to me so barbarous, that I removed from
the window upon the first appearance of it. They were all naked to
the middle. Some had their arms pierced through with arrows, left
sticking in them. Others had them sticking in their heads, the blood
trickling down their faces. Some slashed their arms with sharp
knives, making the blood spring out upon those that stood there; and
this is looked upon as an expression of their zeal for glory. I am
told that some make use of it to advance their love; and, when they
are near the window where their mistress stands, (all the women in
town being veiled to see this spectacle) they stick another arrow for
her sake, who gives some sign of approbation and encouragement to
this gallantry. The whole shew lasted for near eight hours, to my
great sorrow, who was heartily tired, though I was in the house of
the widow of the captain bassa (admiral) who refreshed me with
coffee, sweetmeats, sherbet, &c. with all possible civility.
I WENT two days after, to see, the mosque of sultan Selim I. which is
a building very well worth the curiosity of a traveller. I was,
dressed in my Turkish habit, and admitted without scruple; though I
believe they guessed who I was, by the extreme officiousness of the
door-keeper, to shew me every part of it. It is situated very
advantageously in the midst of the city, and in the highest part of
it, making a very noble show. The first court has four gates, and
the innermost three. They are both of them surrounded with
cloisters, with marble pillars of the Ionic order, finely polished,
and of very lively colours; the whole pavement is of white marble,
and the roof of the cloisters divided into several cupolas or domes,
headed with gilt balls on the top. In the midst of each court, are
fine fountains of white marble; and, before the great gate of the
mosque, a portico, with green marble pillars, which has five gates,
the body of the mosque being one prodigious dome. I understand so
little of architecture, I dare not pretend to speak of the
proportions. It seemed to me very regular, this I am sure of, it is
vastly high, and I thought it the noblest building I ever saw. It
has two rows of marble galleries on pillars, with marble balusters;
the pavement is also marble, covered with Persian carpets. In my
opinion, it is a great addition to its beauty, that it is not divided
into pews, and incumbered with forms and benches like our churches;
nor the pillars (which are most of them red and white marble)
disfigured by the little tawdry images and pictures, that give
Roman-catholic churches the air of toy-shops. The walls seemed to be
inlaid with such very lively colours, in small flowers, that I could
not imagine what stones had been made use of. But going nearer, I
saw they were crusted with japan china, which has a very beautiful
effect. In the midst hung a vast lamp of silver, gilt; besides which,
I do verily believe, there were at least two thousand of a lesser
size. This must look very glorious, when they are all lighted; but
being at night, no women are suffered to enter. Under the large lamp
is a great pulpit of carved wood, gilt; and just by, a fountain to
wash, which, you know, is an essential part of their devotion. In
one corner is a little gallery, inclosed with gilded lattices, for
the grand-signior. At the upper end, a large niche, very like an
altar, raised two steps, covered with gold brocade, and standing
before it, two silver gilt candlesticks, the height of a man, and in
them white wax candles, as thick as a man's waist. The outside of
the mosque is adorned with towers, vastly high, gilt on the top, from
whence the _imaums_ (sic) call the people to prayers. I had the
curiosity to go up one of them, which is contrived so artfully, as to
give surprise to all that see it. There is but one door, which leads
to three different stair-cases, going to the three different stories
of the tower, in such a manner, that three priests may ascend,
rounding, without ever meeting each other; a contrivance very much
admired. Behind the mosque, is an exchange full of shops, where poor
artificers are lodged _gratis_. I saw several dervises (sic) at
their prayers here. They are dressed in a plain piece of woolen,
with their arms bare, and a woolen cap on their heads, like a high
crowned hat without brims. I went to see some other mosques, built
much after the same manner, but not comparable in point of
magnificence to this I have described, which is infinitely beyond any
church in Germany or England; I won't talk of other countries I have
not seen. The seraglio does not seem a very magnificent palace. But
the gardens are very large, plentifully supplied with water, and full
of trees; which is all I know of them, having never been in them.
I TELL you nothing of the order of Mr W----'s entry, and his
audience. These things are always the same, and have been so often
described, I won't trouble you with the repetition. The young
prince, about eleven years old, sits near his father, when he gives
audience: he is a handsome boy; but, probably, will not immediately
succeed the sultan, there being two sons of sultan Mustapha (his
eldest brother) remaining; the eldest about twenty years old, on whom
the hopes of the people are fixed. This reign has been bloody and
avaricious. I am apt to believe, they are very impatient to see the
end of it. I am, Sir, yours, &c. &c.
P. S. I will write to you again from Constantinople.
LET. XXXV.
To THE ABBOT ----.
_Constantinople, May_ 29. O. S.
I HAVE had the advantage of very fine weather, all my journey; and as
the summer is now in its beauty, I enjoyed the pleasure of fine
prospects; and the meadows being full of all sorts of garden flowers,
and sweet herbs, my berlin perfumed the air as it pressed them. The
grand signior furnished us with thirty covered waggons for our
baggage, and five coaches of the country for my women. We found the
road full of the great spahis and their equipages coming out of Asia
to the war. They always travel with tents; but I chose to ly in
houses all the way. I will not trouble you with the names of the
villages we passed, in which there was nothing remarkable, but at
Ciorlei, where there was a _conac_, or little seraglio, built for the
use of the grand signior, when he goes this road. I had the
curiosity to view all the apartments destined for the ladies of his
court. They were in the midst of a thick grove of trees, made fresh
by fountains; but I was most surprised to see the walls almost
covered with little distiches of Turkish verse, wrote with pencils.
I made my interpreter explain them to me, and I found several of them
very well turned; though I easily believed him, that they had lost
much of their beauty in the translation. One was literally thus in
English:
_We come into this world; we lodge, and we depart;
He never goes, that's lodged within my heart._
THE rest of our journey was through fine painted meadows, by the side
of the sea of Marmora, the ancient Propontis. We lay the next night
at Selivrea, anciently a noble town. It is now a good sea-port, and
neatly built enough, and has a bridge of thirty-two arches. Here is
a famous ancient Greek church. I had given one of my coaches to a
Greek lady, who desired the conveniency of travelling with me; she
designed to pay her devotions, and I was glad of the opportunity of
going with her. I found it an ill-built edifice, set out with the
same sort of ornaments, but less rich, as the Roman-catholic
churches. They shewed me a saint's body, where I threw a piece of
money; and a picture of the virgin Mary, drawn by the hand of St
Luke, very little to the credit of his painting; but, however, the
finest Madona (sic) of Italy, is not more famous for her miracles.
The Greeks have a monstrous taste in their pictures, which, for more
finery, are always drawn upon a gold ground. You may imagine what a
good air this has; but they have no notion, either of shade or
proportion. They have a bishop here, who officiated in his purple
robe, and sent me a candle almost as big as myself for a present,
when I was at my lodging. We lay that night at a town called Bujuk
Cekmege, or Great Bridge; and the night following, at Kujuk Cekmege,
or Little Bridge; in a very pleasant lodging, formerly a monastery of
dervises; having before it a large court, encompassed with marble
cloisters, with a good fountain in the middle. The prospect from
this place, and the gardens round it, is the most agreeable I have
seen; and shews, that monks of all religions know how to chuse their
retirements. 'Tis now belonging to a _hogia_ or schoolmaster, who
teaches boys here. I asked him to shew me his own apartment, and was
surprised to see him point to a tall cypress tree in the garden, on
the top of which was a place for a bed for himself, and a little
lower, one for his wife and two children, who slept there every
night. I was so much diverted with the fancy, I resolved to examine
his nest nearer; but after going up fifty steps, I found I had still
fifty to go up, and then I must climb from branch to branch, with
some hazard of my neck. I thought it therefore the best way to come
down again.
WE arrived the next day at Constantinople; but I can yet tell you
very little of it, all my time having been taken up with receiving
visits, which are, at least, a very good entertainment to the eyes,
the young women being all beauties, and their beauty highly improved
by the high taste of their dress. Our palace is in Pera, which is no
more a suburb of Constantinople, than Westminster is a suburb to
London. All the ambassadors are lodged very near each other. One
part of our house shews us the port, the city, and the seraglio, and
the distant hills of Asia; perhaps, all together, the most beautiful
prospect in the world.
A CERTAIN French author says, Constantinople is twice as big as
Paris. Mr W----y is unwilling to own 'tis bigger than London, though
I confess it appears to me to be so; but I don't believe it is so
populous. The burying fields about it are certainly much larger than
the whole city. 'Tis surprising what a vast deal of land is lost
this way in Turkey. Sometimes I have seen burying places of several
miles, belonging to very inconsiderable villages, which were formerly
great towns, and retain no other mark of their ancient grandeur, than
this dismal one. On no occasion do they ever remove a stone that
serves for a monument. Some of them are costly enough, being of very
fine marble. They set up a pillar, with a carved turbant on the top
of it, to the memory of a man; and as the turbants, by their
different shapes, shew the quality or profession, 'tis in a manner
putting up the arms of the deceased; besides, the pillar commonly
bears an inscription in gold letters. The ladies have a simple
pillar without other ornament, except those that die unmarried, who
have a rose on the top of their monument. The sepulchres of
particular families are railed in, and planted round with trees.
Those of the sultans, and some great men, have lamps constantly
burning in them.
WHEN I spoke of their religion, I forgot to mention two
particularities, one of which I have read of, but it seemed so odd to
me, I could not believe it; yet 'tis certainly true; that when a man
has divorced his wife, in the most solemn manner, he can take her
again, upon no other terms, than permitting another man to pass a
night with her; and there are some examples of those who have
submitted to this law, rather than not have back their beloved. The
other point of doctrine is very extraordinary. Any woman that dies
unmarried is looked upon to die in a state of reprobation. To
confirm this belief, they reason, that the end of the creation of
woman is to increase and multiply; and that she is only properly
employed in the works of her calling, when she is bringing forth
children, or taking care of them, which are all the virtues that God
expects from her. And indeed, their way of life, which shuts them
out of all public commerce, does not permit them any other. Our
vulgar notion, that they don't own women to have any souls, is a
mistake. 'Tis true, they say, they are not of so elevated a kind,
and therefore must not hope to be admitted into the paradise
appointed for the men, who are to be entertained by celestial
beauties. But there is a place of happiness destined for souls of
the inferior order, where all good women are to be in eternal bliss.
Many of them are very superstitious, and will not remain widows ten
days, for fear of dying in the reprobate state of an useless
creature. But those that like their liberty, and are not slaves to
their religion, content themselves with marrying when they are afraid
of dying. This is a piece of theology, very different from that
which teaches nothing to be more acceptable to God than a vow of
perpetual virginity: which divinity is most rational, I leave you to
determine.
I HAVE already made some progress in a collection of Greek medals.
Here are several professed antiquaries, who are ready to serve any
body that desires them. But you cannot imagine how they stare in my
face, when I enquire about them, as if no body was permitted to seek
after medals, till they were grown a piece of antiquity themselves.
I have got some very valuable ones of the Macedonian kings,
particularly one of Perseus, so lively, I fancy I can see all his ill
qualities in his face. I have a prophyry (sic) head finely cut, of
the true Greek sculpture; but who it represents, is to be guessed at
by the learned when I return. For you are not to suppose these
antiquaries (who are all Greeks) know any thing. Their trade is only
to sell; they have correspondents at Aleppo, Grand Cairo, in Arabia
and Palestine, who send them all they can find, and very often great
heaps, that are only fit to melt into pans and kettles. They get the
best price they can for them, without knowing those that are valuable
from those that are not. Those that pretend to skill, generally find
out the image of some saint in the medals of the Greek cities. One
of them, shewing me the figure of a Pallas, with a victory in her
hand on a reverse, assured me, it was the Virgin, holding a crucifix.
The same man offered me the head of a Socrates, on a sardonyx; and,
to enhance the value, gave him the title of saint Augustine. I have
bespoke a mummy, which I hope will come safe to my hands,
notwithstanding the misfortune that befel (sic) a very fine one,
designed for the king of Sweden. He gave a great price for it, and
the Turks took it into their heads, that he must have some
considerable project depending upon it. They fancied it the body of,
God knows who; and that the state of their empire mystically depended
on the conversation of it. Some old prophecies were remembered upon
this occasion, and the mummy committed prisoner to the Seven Towers,
where it has remained under close confinement ever since, I dare not
try my interest in so considerable a point, as the release of it; but
I hope mine will pass without examination. I can tell you nothing
more at present of this famous city. When I have looked a little
about me, you shall hear from me again. I am, Sir, Your's, &c. &c.
LET. XXXVI.
TO MR POPE.
_Belgrade Village, June_ 17. O. S.
I HOPE, before this time, you have received two or three of my
letters. I had yours but yesterday, though dated the third of
February, in which you suppose me to be dead and buried. I have
already let you know, that I am still alive; but to say truth, I look
upon my present circumstances to be exactly the same with those of
departed spirits. The heats of Constantinople have driven me to this
place, which perfectly answers the description of the Elysian fields.
I am in the middle of a wood, consisting chiefly of fruit-trees,
watered by a vast number of fountains, famous for the excellency of
their water, and divided into many shady walks, upon short grass,
that seems to me artificial, but, I am assured, is the pure work of
nature--within view of the Black sea, from whence we perpetually
enjoy the refreshment of cool breezes, that make us insensible of the
heat of the summer. The village is only inhabited by the richest
amongst the Christians, who meet every night at a fountain, forty
paces from my house, to sing and dance. The beauty and dress of the
women exactly resemble the ideas of the ancient nymphs, as they are
given us by the representations of the poets and painters. But what
persuades me more fully of my decease, is the situation of my own
mind, the profound ignorance I am in, of what passes among the living
(which only comes to me by chance) and the great calmness with which
I receive it. Yet I have still a hankering after my friends and
acquaintances left in the world, according to the authority of that
admirable author,
_That spirits departed are wondrous kind
To friends and relations left behind:
Which nobody can deny_.
Of which solemn truth, I am a _dead_ instance. I think Virgil is of
the same opinion, that in human souls there will still be some
remains of human passions:
--_Curae non ipsae in morte relinquunt_.
And 'tis very necessary, to make a perfect elysium (sic), that there
should be a river Lethe, which I am not so happy as to find. To say
truth, I am sometimes very weary of the singing, and dancing, and
sunshine, and wish for the smoke and impertinencies in which you
toil; though I endeavour to persuade myself, that I live in a more
agreeable variety than you do; and that Monday, setting of
partridges; Tuesday, reading English; Wednesday, studying in the
Turkish language, (in which, by the way, I am already very learned;)
Thursday, classical authors; Friday, spent in writing; Saturday, at
my needle; and Sunday, admitting of visits, and hearing of music, is
a better way of disposing of the week; than, Monday, at the drawing
room; Tuesday, lady Mohun's; Wednesday, at the opera; Thursday, the
play; Friday, Mrs Chetwynd's, &c. a perpetual round of hearing the
same scandal, and seeing the same follies acted over and over, which
here affect me no more than they do other dead people. I can now
hear of displeasing things with pity, and without indignation. The
reflection on the great gulph (sic) between you and me, cools all
news that come hither. I can neither be sensibly touched with joy or
grief, when I consider, that possibly the cause of either is removed,
before the letter comes to my hands. But (as I said before) this
indolence does not extend to my few friendships; I am still warmly
sensible of yours and Mr Congreve's, and desire to live in your
remembrance, though dead to all the world beside. I am, &c. &c.
LET. XXXVII.
TO THE LADY ----.
_Belgrade Village, June_ 17 O. S.
I HEARTILY beg your ladyship's pardon; but I really could not forbear
laughing heartily at your letter, and the commissions you are pleased
to honour me with. You desire me to buy you a Greek slave, who is to
be mistress of a thousand good qualities. The Greeks are subjects,
and not slaves. Those who are to be bought in that manner, are
either such as are taken in war, or stolen by the Tartars from
Russia, Circassia, or Georgia, and are such miserable, awkward, poor
wretches, you would not think any of them worthy to be your
house-maids. 'Tis true, that many thousands were taken in the Morea;
but they have been, most of them, redeemed by the charitable
contributions of the Christians, or ransomed by their own relations
at Venice. The fine slaves that wait upon the great ladies, or serve
the pleasures of the great men, are all bought at the age of eight or
nine years old, and educated with great care, to accomplish them in
singing, dancing, embroidery, &c. They are commonly Circassians, and
their patron never sells them, except it is as a punishment for some
very great fault. If ever they grow weary of them, they either
present them to a friend, or give them their freedom. Those that are
exposed to sale at the markets, are always either guilty of some
crime, or so entirely worthless, that they are of no use at all. I
am afraid you will doubt the truth of this account, which, I own, is
very different from our common notions in England; but it is no less
truth for all that.--Your whole letter is full of mistakes, from one
end to the other. I see you have taken your ideas of Turkey, from
that worthy author Dumont, who has wrote with equal ignorance and
confidence. 'Tis a particular pleasure to me here, to read the
voyages to the Levant, which are generally so far removed from truth,
and so full of absurdities, I am very well diverted with them. They
never fail giving you an account of the women, whom, 'tis certain,
they never saw, and talking very wisely of the genius of the men,
into whose company they are never admitted; and very often describe
mosques, which they dare not even peep into. The Turks are very
proud, and will not converse with a stranger they are not assured is
considerable in his own country. I speak of the men of distinction;
for, as to the ordinary fellows, you may imagine what ideas their
conversation can give of the general genius of the people.