This has been erroneously supposed the column of Theodora. Pococke
mentions that it was taken from some other part of the town to the
seraglio gardens. It is supported by a handsome capital of verd antique.
This building[160], the mosque of St. Sophia (formerly of much larger
extent), owes its foundation to the emperor Justinian, who lived also to
see it finished, A.D. 557. It was dedicated by him to the wisdom of
God. This fabric is entirely Gothic.
"In the time of Procopius[161] its dome might have seemed suspended by a
chain from heaven; but at present it exhibits much more of a
subterranean than of an aerial character. The approach to the Pantheon
at Rome, as well as to the spacious aisle and dome of St. Peter's, is by
ascending; but in order to get beneath the dome of St. Sophia, the
spectator is conducted down a flight of stairs. * * * The more we saw of
the city, the more we had reason to be convinced that it remains as it
was from its conquest by the Turks. The interior of St. Sophia
manifestly proves the indisposition of the Turks towards the decoration
of the buildings they found. * * * There is so much of littleness and
bad taste in the patchwork of its interior decorations, and of confusion
in the piles and buttresses about it, when viewed externally, that we
hardly considered it more worth visiting than some other mosques,
especially those of sultan Solyman and sultan Achmet."
This is one of the largest edifices ever built for the purpose of
Christian worship; but though built by Constantine, it is evident, from
the barbarous style of art which pervades the mass of stone, that it is
the production of a vitiated and declining age. It is a confused
memorial of a taste which no longer exists. "In its present state," says
La Martine, "St. Sophia resembles an immense caravansary of God; for
there are the columns of the temple of Ephesus and the figures of the
apostles, encircled with gilded glories, looking down upon the hanging
lamps of the Iman."
In the mosques, called Osmanic, are pillars of Egyptian granite,
twenty-two feet high and three feet in diameter; and near it is the
celebrated sarcophagus of red porphyry, called the _Tomb of
Constantine_, nine feet long, seven feet wide, and five feet thick, of
one entire mass. In the mosque of sultan Achmet are columns of verde
antico, Egyptian granite, and white marble. Several antique vases of
glass and earthenware are also there suspended, exactly as they were in
the temples of the ancients with the votive offerings.
Near the mosque of sultan Achmet[162], which is one of the finest
buildings in Constantinople, stands the Hippodrome, called by the Turks
Etmeidon, which is no other than a translation of the ancient name; it
being made use of at present for exercising cavalry.
It is a space of ground five hundred and seventy-four yards in length,
and one hundred and twenty-four in breadth, and at one end are two
obelisks, the one of granite fifty-eight feet high, on which are
inscribed many Egyptian hieroglyphics. The pedestal is adorned with
bas-relievos of but ordinary sculpture, representing different actions
of the emperor Theodosius in relation to the races that were performed
in the Hippodrome. In one place, particularly, he is to be seen crowning
a figure who is supposed to be the person that had carried off the
prize.
The other obelisk is composed of several pieces of stone, and seems, by
many cavities between the stones, to have been covered with brass
plates; which, together with its height, must have rendered it superior
to the former in magnificence. Between these obelisks is the Delphic
pillar.
The aqueduct of the Roman emperors still remains[163]. It was first
erected by Hadrian: it was called by his name; subsequently it bore that
of Valens, and of Theodosius. Being ruined by the Avans in the reign of
Heraclius, it was repaired by one of the Constantines. In a later period
Solyman, called the Magnificent, finding it gone to decay, caused it to
be restored. It consists of a double line of arches, built with
alternate layers of stone and brick.
Within the walls of Constantinople[164] the Greek emperors had formed,
by excavation, a number of immense cisterns, or reservoirs, which were
always to be kept full, and which might supply the capital in case of
siege. One of them, though no longer performing the office for which it
was intended, is still one of the curiosities of Constantinople, to
which all travellers are conducted. It is a vast subterranean edifice,
whose roof is supported by an immense number of columns, each column
being curiously formed of three pillars placed one on the top of
the other. The Turks call it the place of the "thousand and one
columns"--not that the columns are really so numerous--but because it is
the favourite number of the oriental nations. Though the earth has, in
part, filled it up, it is still of great depth.
The whole cavity, according to Dr. Walsh, is capable of containing
1,237,939 cubit feet of water when full. It is now, however, dry; and a
number of silk-twisters have taken possession of it, and ply their trade
at the bottom in almost utter darkness. There is another, also, which
still exists as a cistern; which Dr. Walsh, who first gave us any
account of it, describes as being a subterraneous lake, extending under
several streets, with an arched roof that covers and conceals it,
supported on three hundred and thirty-six magnificent pillars.
Some remains of a large antique structure are seen on the side of the
Hippodrome; and it has been conjectured that this was the palace of the
emperors; others suppose it to have been part of the Basilica, the form
of which Gyllius believes to have been quadrangular; in opposition to
those who had described it as an octagon. The Basilica was a college for
the instruction of youth. In the reign of Basilicus there happened a
great fire, and which consuming whole streets, with many stately
edifices, wholly destroyed the Basilica, together with its library,
containing six hundred thousand volumes. Amongst these curiosities there
was a MS. of the Iliad and Odyssey, written in letters of gold; upon a
serpents gut, one hundred and twenty feet in length.
Wheler says that the Seven Towers do not look strong enough for a
castle; but sufficiently so for a prison; which was the employment to
which it was put for great men, or great malefactors, like the Tower of
London. He was not permitted to enter into it; but he observed that one
of the gateways was adorned with bassi-relievi, or oblong tablets of
white marble. One of these represented the fall of Phaeton; another
Hercules fighting with a bull; another Hercules combating with Cerberus;
and another, Venus coming to Adonis during the time in which he is
sleeping.
The appearance of these walls, says Hobhouse, (the work of the second
Theodosius), is more venerable than any other Byzantine antiquity; their
triple ranges rise one above the other in most places nearly entire, and
still retaining their ancient battlements and towers, which are shaded
with large trees, which spring from the fosse, and through the
rents of repeated earthquakes.
The intervals between the triple walls, which are eighteen feet wide,
are in many places choked up with earth and masses of the fallen
rampart; and the fosse, of twenty-five feet in breadth, is cultivated
and converted into gardens and cherry orchards, with here and there a
solitary cottage. Such is the height of the walls, that to those
following the road under them on the outside, none of the mosques or
other buildings of the capital, except the towers of Tekkun-Sana, are
visible; and as there are no suburbs, this line of majestic ramparts,
defenceless and trembling with age, might impress upon the mind the
notion, that the Ottomans had not deigned to inhabit the conquered city,
but, carrying away its people into distant captivity, had left it an
unresisting prey to the desolations of time.
The Seven Towers reminded La Martine of the death of the first sultan,
who was immolated by the Janissaries. Othman was allured by them into
the castle, and perished two days afterwards by the hand of the vizir
Daoud. Shortly after, the vizir himself was conducted to the Seven
Towers. His turban was torn off his head; he was made to drink at the
same fountain where the unfortunate Othman had slaked his thirst; and he
was strangled in the same chamber in which he had strangled his master.
"I have seen the ruins of Athens, of Ephesus, and Delphi," says Lord
Byron; "I have traversed great part of Turkey; and many other parts of
Europe, and some of Asia; but I never beheld a work of nature or art,
which yielded an impression like the prospect, on each side, from the
Seven Towers to the Golden Horn."