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Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
A carat character is used to denote superscription. A
single character following the carat is superscripted
(example: G^t). Multiple superscripted characters are
enclosed by curly brackets (example: Lith^{rs}).
The part of List of Illustrations in Vol. I. related
to Vol. II. is moved to Vol. II. for completenes and
consistency.
THE CITY OF THE SULTAN; AND DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE TURKS, IN 1836.
[Illustration: Miss Pardoe del.
Day & Haghe Lith^{rs}. to the King.
YÈRÈ BATAN SERAÏ
_Henry Colburn 12 G^t. Marlborough St. 1837_]
THE CITY OF THE SULTAN; AND DOMESTIC MANNERS OF THE TURKS, IN 1836.
by
MISS PARDOE,
Author of “Traits and Traditions of Portugal.”
[Illustration: TOWER OF GALATA.]
In Two Volumes.
VOL. II.
London:
Henry Colburn, Publisher,
Great Marlborough Street.
1837.
London:
P. Shoberl, Jun., Leicester Street, Leicester Square.
CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
CHAPTER I.
Departure for Broussa—Rocky Coast—Moudania—The Custom
House—Translation of the word _Backshich_—The Archbishop of
Broussa—The Boatman’s House—The Dead and the
Living—Laughable Cavalcade—Dense Mists—Fine
Country—Flowers, Birds, and Butterflies—The Coffee Hut—The
Turkish Woman—Broussa in the Distance—The Dried-up
Fountain—Immense Plains—Bohemian Gipsies—Mountain
Streams—Turkish Washerwomen—Fine Old Wall—The Jews’
Quarter—The Turkish Kiosk—Oriental Curiosity—A Dream of
Home Page 1
CHAPTER II.
Ancient Gate—Greek Inscriptions—Mausoleum of Sultan
Orcan—Monkish Chronicle—The Turbedar Hanoum—Inverted
Columns—Painted Pillars—Splendid Marbles—Tombs of the
Imperial Family—The Greek Cross—The Sultan’s
Beard—Mausoleum of Sultan Ali Osman—Monastic Vaults—Ruined
Chapel—Remains of a Greek Palace—Bassi Relievi—Ruined
Fountains—Ancient Fosse—Dense Vegetation—Noble
Prospect—Roman Aqueduct—Valley of the Source—Picturesque
Groups—Coffee-Kiosks—Absence of Pretension among the
Turks—The Tale Teller—Traveller’s Khan—Sick Birds—Roman
Bridge—Armenian Mother 21
CHAPTER III.
Orientalism of Broussa—Costume of the Men—Plain
Women—Turbans and Yashmacs—Facility of Ingress to the
Mosques—Oulou Jamè—Polite Imam—Eastern Quasimodo—Ascent of
the Minaret—The Charshee—Travelling Hyperboles—Silk
Bazàr—Silk Merchants Khan—Fountains of Broussa—Broussa and
Lisbon—The Baths—Wild Flowers—Tzekerghè—Mosque of Sultan
Mourad—Madhouse—Court of the Mosque—Singular
Fountain—Mausoleum of Sultan Mourad—Golden Gate—Local
Legend—The Tomb-house—More Vandalism—Ancient
Turban—Comfortable Cemeteries—Subterranean Vault—Great
Bath—Hot Spring—Baths and Bathers—Miraculous
Baths—Armenian Doctress—Situation of Tzekerghè—Storks and
Tortoises—Turkish Cheltenham 38
CHAPTER IV.
Difficulty of Access to the Chapel of the Howling
Dervishes—Invitation to Visit their Harem—The Chapel—Sects
and Trades—Entrance of the Dervishes—Costume—The
Prayer—Turning Dervishes—Fanatical Suffering—Groans and
Howls—Difficulty of Description—Sectarian Ceremony—Music
versus Madness—Tekiè of the Turning Dervishes 60
CHAPTER V.
Loquacious Barber—Unthrifty Travellers—Mount Olympus—Early
Rising—Aspect of the Country at Dawn—Peasants and
Travellers—Fine View—Peculiarity of Oriental Cities—Stunted
Minarets—Plains and Precipices—Halting-Place—Difficulty of
Ascending the Mountain—Change of Scenery—Repast in the
Desart—Civil Guide—Appearance of the Mount—Snows and
Sunshine—Fatiguing Pilgrimage—Dense Mists—Intense
Cold—Flitting Landscape—The Chibouk—The Giant’s Grave—The
Roofless Hut—Lake of Appollonia—The Wilderness—Dangerous
Descent—Philosophic Guide—Storm among the Mountains—The
Guide at Fault—Happy Discovery—Tempest 72
CHAPTER VI.
The Armenian Quarter of Broussa—Catholics and
Schismatics—Armenian Church—Ugly Saints—Burial Place of the
Bishops—Cloisters—Public School—Mode of Rearing the Silk
Worms—Difference between the European and the Asiatic
Systems—Colour and Quantity of the Produce—Appearance of the
Mulberry Woods 90
CHAPTER VII.
The Cadi’s Wife—Singular Custom—Haïsè Hanoum—The
Odalique—The Cadi—Noisy Enjoyment—Lying in
State—Cachemires—Costume—Unbounded Hospitality of the
Wealthy Turks—The Dancing Girl—Saïryn Hanoum—Contrast 96
CHAPTER VIII.
Tzèkerghè—Bustling Departure—Turkish _Patois_—Waiting Maids
and Serving Men—Characteristic Cavalcade—Chapter of
Accidents—Train of Camels—Halt of the Caravan—Violent
Storm—Archbishop of Broussa—The Old
Palace—Reception-Room—Priestly Humility—Greek
Priests—Worldly and Monastic Clergy—Morals of the
Papas—Asiatic Pebbles—Moudania—Idleness of the
Inhabitants—Decay of the Town—Policy of the Turkish
Government—Departure for Constantinople 106
CHAPTER IX.
Death in the Revel—Marriage of the Princess Mihirmàh—The
Imperial Victim—The First Lover—Court Cabal—Policy of the
Seraskier—The Second Suitor—The Miniature—The Last
Gift—Interview between the Sultan and Mustapha Pasha 118
CHAPTER X.
Yenekeui—The Festival of Fire—Commemorative
Observance—Fondness of the Orientals for
Illumination—Frequency of Fires in Constantinople—Dangerous
Customs—Fire Guard—The Seraskier’s Tower—Disagreeable
Alarum—Namik Pasha—The Festival
Localized—Veronica—Bonfires—Therapia and
Buyukdèrè—Singular Effect of Light—The Armenian Heroine—A
Wild Dream 134
CHAPTER XI.
A Chapter on Caïques—The Sultan’s Barge—Princes and
Pashas—The Pasha’s Wife—The Admiralty Barge—The Fruit
Caïque—The Embassy Barge—The Omnibus Caïque—Turkish
Boatmen—The Caïque of Azmè Bey—Pleasant Memories—The
Chevalier Hassuna de Ghies—Natural Politeness of the
Turks—Turkey and Russia—Sultan Mahmoud—Confusion of
Tongues—Arif Bey—Imperial Present—The Fruit of
Constantinople—The Two Banners—The Harem—Azimè Hanoum 143
CHAPTER XII.
The Bosphorus in Summer—The Tower of Galata—Mosque of
Topphannè—Summer Palace of the Grand Vizier—Seraï of the
Princess Salihè—Seraïs and Salemliks—Palace of Azmè
Sultane—Turkish Music—Token Flowers—Palace of the Princess
Mihirmàh—The Hill of the Thousand Nightingales—Turkish,
Greek, and Armenian Houses—Cleanliness of the Orientals—The
Armenians—Cemetery of Isari—The Castle of Europe—Mahomet
and the Greeks—Village of Mirgheun—The Haunted Chapel of St.
Nicholas—Palace of Prince Calimachi—Imperial Jealousy—Death
of Calimachi—The Bosphorus by Moonlight—Love of the
Orientals for Flowers—Depth of the Channel—An Imperial
Brig—Turkish Justice—Fortunes of the Turkish Fleet—Sudden
Transitions—Influence of Russian Sophistry—The Sultan’s
Physicians—Naval Appointments—Rigid Discipline—The Penalty
of Disobedience—The Death Banquet—Tahir Pasha—Radical
Remedy—Vice of the Turkish System of Government—Unkiar
Skelessi—A Mill and a Manufactory—Pic Nics—Arabian
Encampment—Bedouin Beauty—Poetical Locality 158
CHAPTER XIII.
Facts and Fictions—Female Execution at Constantinople—Crime
of the Condemned—Tale of the Merchant’s Wife—The Call to
Prayer—The Discovery—The Mother and Son—The
Hiding-Place—The Capture—The Trial—A Night Scene in the
Harem—The Morrow—Mercifulness of the Turks towards their
Women 183
CHAPTER XIV.
Political Position of the Turks—Religion of the
Osmanlis—Absence of Vice among the Lower Orders—Defect of
Turkish Character—European Supineness—Policy of
Russia—England and France—A Turkish Comment on England—The
Government and the People—Common Virtue—Great Men—Turks of
the Provinces—European Misconceptions 198
CHAPTER XV.
Death in a Princely Harem—The Fair Georgian—Distinction of
Circassian and Georgian Beauty—The Saloon—Sentiment of the
Harem—Courteous Reception—Domestic Economy of the
Establishment—The Young Circassian—Emin Bey—Singular Custom
of the Turks—The Buyuk Hanoum—The Female Dwarf—_Naïveté_ of
the Turkish Ladies—The Forbidden Door—The Sultan’s
Chamber—The Female Renegade—Penalty of Apostacy—Musical
Ceremony—Frank Ladies and True Believers—A Turkish
Luncheon—Devlehäi Hanoum—Old Wives _versus_ Young Ones—The
Parting Gift—The Araba—The Public Walk—Fondness of the
Orientals for Fine Scenery—The Oak Wood 211
CHAPTER XVI.
Military Festival—Turkish Ladies—Female Curiosity—Eastern
Coquetry—A Few Words on the Turkish _Fèz_—The Imperial Horse
Guards—Disaffection of the Imperial Guard—False Alarms—The
Procession—The Troops at Pera—Imitative Talent of the
Turks—Disappointment 231
CHAPTER XVII.
Turkish Ladies “At Home”—The Asiatic Sweet Waters—Holy
Ground—The Glen of the Valley—Hand Mirrors—Holyday
Groups—Courtesy of the Oriental Females to Strangers—The
Beautiful Devotee—The Pasha’s Wife—A Guard of Honour—Change
of Scene—Fortress of Mahomet—Amiability of the Turkish
Character 242
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Reiss Effendi—Devlehäi Hanoum—The Fair Circassian—The
Pasha—Ceremonious Observances of the Harem—An
Interview—Namik Pasha _versus_ Nourri Effendi—Imperial
Decorations—The Diploma—Turkish Gallantry—The Chibouks—The
Salemliek—The Garden—Holy Horror—The Kiosk—The
Breakfast—A Party in the Harem—Nèsibè Hanoum—The
Yashmac—The Masquerade—Turkish Compliments—The Slave and
the Fruit Merchant—Departure from the Palace 262
CHAPTER XIX.
Imperial Gratitude—The Freed Woman—A Female
Cœlebs—Hussein the Watchmaker—Golden Dreams—Arabas and
Arabajhes—Maternal Regrets—A Matrimonial
Excursion—Difficult Position—The _Sèkèljhes_—A Young
Husband—The Emir—The Officer of the Guard—The Emir’s
Daughter—First Love—Ballad Singing—A
Salutation—Moonlight—Rejected Addresses—Ruse de Guerre—The
Arrest—A Lover’s Defence—Munificence of the Seraskier Pasha 278
CHAPTER XX.
Turkish Madhouses—Surveillance of Sultan
Mahmoud—Self-Elected Saints—Lunatic Establishment of
Solimaniè—The Mad Father—The Apostate—The Sultan’s
Juggler—Slave Market—Charshee 293
CHAPTER XXI.
The Castle of Europe—The Traitor’s Gate—The Officer of the
Guard—Military Scruples—The State Prison—The Tower of
Blood—The Janissaries’ Tower—_Cachots
Forcès_—Guard-room—The Bow-string—Frightful Death—The
Signal Gun—The Grand Armoury—Flourishing State of the
Establishment—A Dialogue—The Barracks of the Imperial
Guard—The Persian Kiosk—Courts and Cloisters—The
Kitchen—The Regimental School—A Coming Storm—The
Tempest—Dangerous Passage—Turkish Terror—Kind-hearted
Caïquejhe—Fortunate Escape 302
CHAPTER XXII.
The Plague—Spread of the Pestilence—The Greek
Victim—Self-Devotion—Death of the Plague Smitten—The
Widow’s Walk—Plague Encampments—The Infected Family—The
Greek Girl and her Lover—Non-Conductors—Plague
Perpetuators—Vultures—Melancholy Concomitants of the
Pestilence—Carelessness of the Turks—The Pasha of
Broussa—Rashness of the Poorer Classes—Universality of the
Disease in the Capital 317
CHAPTER XXIII.
A Greek Marriage—The Day before the Bridal—The Wedding
Garments—Cachemires—Ceremony of Reception—The Golden
Tresses—Early Hours of the Greek Church—Love of the Greek
Women for Finery—The Bridal Procession—The Marriage—The
Nuptial Crowns—Greek Funerals 338
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Fèz Manufactory—Singular Scene—A Turk at Prayers—Pretty
Girls—Progress of Turkish Industry—Mustapha Effendi—Process
of Manufactures—Omer Effendi and the Arabs—Avanis Aga, the
Armenian—The Fraud Discovered—The Imperial
Apartments—Departure for the Seraï-Bournou—The Outer
Court—The Orta Kapoussi—The Pestle and Mortar of the
Ulémas—The Garden of Delight—The Column of
Theodosius—Arrival of the Sultan—Ancient Greek
Inscriptions—Confused Impression—The Diamond—Memories of
Sultan Selim 348
CHAPTER XXV.
Social Condition of the Eastern Jews—Parallel between the
Jews of Europe and the Levant—Cruelty of the Turkish Children
to Jews—A Singular Custom—Religious Strictness of the
Jews—National Administration—The House of Naim Zornana of
Galata—Costume of the Jewish Women—Hebrew Hospitality 361
CHAPTER XXVI.
Hospitality of the Armenians—An Impromptu Visit—The
Bride—Costly Costume—Turkish Taste—Kind Reception—Domestic
Etiquette of the Schismatic Armenians—Armenian Sarafs—The
National Characteristics 373
CHAPTER XXVII.
Season-Changes at Constantinople—Twilight—The Palace
Garden—Mariaritza, the Athenian—A Love-tale by
Moonlight—The Greek Girl’s Song—The Palace of
Beglierbey—Interior Decorations—The Bath—The Terraces—The
Lake of the Swans—The Air Bath—The Emperor’s Vase—The
Gilded Kiosk—A Disappointment 384
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The Bosphorus in Mist—The Ferdinando
Primo—Embarkation—Tardy Passengers—The Black Sea—The
Turkish Woman—Varna—Visit to the Pasha—Rustem Bey—Mustapha
Najib Pasha—Turkish Gallantry—The Lines—Sunset
Landscape—Bulgarian Colonies—Discomforts of a Deck Passage 402
CHAPTER XXIX.
The Danube—Cossack Guard—Moldavian
Musquitoes—Tultzin—Galatz—Plague-Conductors—Prussian
Officer—Excursion to Silistria—Amateur Boatmen—Wretched
Hamlet—The Lame Baron—The Salute—Silistrian Peasants—A
Pic-Nic in the Wilds—The Tortoise—Canoes of the Danube—The
Moldavian State-Barge—Picturesque Boatmen—The Water
Party—Painful Politeness—Visit of the Hospodar—Suite of His
Highness—Princely Panic—The Pannonia 414
CHAPTER XXX.
Hirsova—Russian Relics—Town of Silistria—Bravery of the
Turks—Village of Turtuki—Group of Pelicans—Glorious
Sunset—Ruschuk—Cheapness of Provisions—The Wallachian
Coast—Bulgaria—Dense Fog—Orava—Roman Bath—Green
Frogs—Widdin—Kalifet—Scala Glavoda—Custom House
Officers—Disembarkation—Wallachian Mountains—A Landscape
Sketch—Costume of the Servian Peasantry—The Village
Belle—Primitive Carriages—The Porte de Fer—The
Crucifix—Magnificent Scenery—Fine Ores 427
CHAPTER XXXI.
Orsova—Castle of the Pass—Turkish Guard—Quarantaine
Ground—Village of Tekia—Awkward Mistake—Pretty Woman—Gay
Dress—A Visiter—Servian Cottagers—A Discovery—Departure—A
Volunteer—Receiving House—A Forced March—The
Grave-Yard—The Quarantaine—A Welcome to Captivity—A Verbal
Coinage—Pleasant Quarters—M. le Directeur—The
Restaurant—Pleasant Announcement—Paternal Care of the
Austrian Authorities—The Health-Inventory—The Guardsman’s
Sword—Medical Visits—Intellectual Amusements—A Friendly
Warning 443
CHAPTER XXXII.
The Last Day of Captivity—Quarantaine Enclosure—Baths of
Mahadia—Landscape Scenery—Peasantry of Hungary—Their
Costume—Trajan’s Road—Hungarian Village—The Mountain
Pass—The Baths—A Disappointment—The
Health-Inventory—Inland Journey—New Road 458
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Departure from Orsova—Daybreak—The Mountain-pass—Village of
Plauwischewitza—Austrian Engineers—Literary Popularity—The
Rapids—Sunday in Hungary—Drinkova—Holy day
Groups—Alibec—Voilovitch—Panchova—River-Shoals—Wild
Fowl—Semlin—Fortress of Belgrade—Streets of Semlin—Greek
Church—Castle of Hunyady—Imperial Barge—Agreeable
Escort—Yusuf Pacha—Belgrade—Prince
Milosch—Plague-Preventers—General Milosch—Servian
Ladies—Turk-Town—Ruined Dwellings—The Fortress—Osman
Bey—Gate of the Tower—Fearless Tower—Rapid Decay of the
Fortifications—Sclavonian Garden—Vintage-Feast—Sclavonian
Vintage-Song 471
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Carlowitz—Peterwarradin—Bridge of Boats—Neusatz—The
Journey of Life—The Chevalier Peitrich—Austrian
Officers—The Hungarian Poet—Illok—The Ancient Surnium—Peel
Tower—Intense Cold—Flat
Shores—Mohasch—Földvar—Pesth—German Postillion—A Few Last
Words 492
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Yèrè Batan Seraï _Frontispiece._
Tower of Galata _Vignette Title-page._
Ruins of the Imperial Palace 28
Roman Bridge at Broussa 36
Roof of Oulou Jamè from the Garden of the Greek Church 40
Turkish Mausoleum 53
The Seraglio Point 159
Part of the Valley of Guiuk-Suy 244
Castle of Mahomet 256
Column of Theodosius 358
View near Fanaraki, in Asia 406
THE CITY OF THE SULTAN.
CHAPTER I.
Departure for Broussa—Rocky Coast—Moudania—The Custom
House—Translation of the word _Backshich_—The Archbishop of
Broussa—The Boatman’s House—The Dead and the
Living—Laughable Cavalcade—Dense Mists—Fine
Country—Flowers, Birds, and Butterflies—The Coffee Hut—The
Turkish Woman—Broussa in the Distance—The Dried-up
Fountain—Immense Plains—Bohemian Gipsies—Mountain
Streams—Turkish Washerwomen—Fine Old Wall—The Jews’
Quarter—The Turkish Kiosk—Oriental Curiosity—A Dream of
Home.
Having decided on visiting Broussa, we hired an island caïque with four
stout rowers, and provided ourselves with plenty of coats and cloaks, a
basket of provisions, and a few volumes of French classics; and thus we
set sail from the Golden Horn on the last day of May, leaving Stamboul
all splendour and sunshine.
A brisk northerly wind carried us rapidly out into the Propontis; all
sails were set; my father and myself comfortably established among “the
wraps,” our Greek servant ensconced between two baskets, the steersman
squatted upon the poop of the boat grinning applause, and revealing in
his satisfaction a set of teeth as white as ivory; and, ere long,
excepting this last, our attendant, and myself, every soul on board was
asleep.
In less than two hours, Stamboul had vanished like a vision, and could
only be traced by the line of heavy mist which skirted the horizon. The
coast of Asia Minor was darkening as we advanced, wearing the dense
drapery of vapour woven by the excessive heat—the mountain chain,
fantastic in outline, stretched far as the eye could reach, and we had
already left behind us the two quaint rocks which form so peculiar an
object from the heights above Constantinople. But here the wind failed
us altogether; the slumbering caïquejhes were awakened, the oars were
plied, and we moved over the Sea of Marmora, of which I had such
horrible memories, from the night of pain and peril that I had passed
upon it on my way to Turkey, as though we had been traversing a lake.
Twilight darkened over us thus; and then a light breeze tempted us again
to set the sails, and we glided along smoothly, skirting the rocky coast
until we reached the point opposite Broussa; which, sloping rapidly
downwards to the beach, suddenly revealed to us the glorious moon, that
was rising broad and red immediately on our track, and tracing a line
of light along the ripple which gleamed like gold.
After having sated myself with the bright moon, the myriad stars, and
the mysterious mountains, at whose base the waves had hollowed caverns,
through which they dashed with a noise like thunder, and once or twice
almost deluded me into a belief that I could distinguish the sound of
human voices issuing from their depths, I at length yielded to the
excessive fatigue that overpowered me; and, wrapping myself closely in
my mantle, I stretched myself along the bottom of the caïque, and did
not again awaken until the boatmen announced our arrival at Moudania.
It was an hour past midnight, and not a sound came to us from the town.
A score of Arabian barks were anchored off the shore, whose seaward
houses overhang the water; the white minarets of the mosques were in
strong relief upon the tall, dark, thickly-wooded mountains which rose
immediately behind them, and whence the song of the nightingales swept
sweetly and sadly over the ripple; and had we not been drenched with the
heavy dew that had fallen during the night, I should have been quite
satisfied to remain until daylight in the caïque, which soon entered a
little creek in the centre of the town.
But, previously to casting anchor, we were obliged to pull considerably
higher up the gulf in order to show ourselves at the Custom House, and
to exhibit our Teskarè, or Turkish passport, as well as to submit our
two travelling portmanteaux, and our provision-hamper, to the inspection
of the examining officer. After a vast deal of knocking and calling, an
individual was at length awakened, who came yawning into the caïque with
a paper-lantern in his hand, and his eyes only half open; and who, after
looking drowsily about him, murmured out “_backschish_,” and prepared to
depart; upon which a few piastres were given to him, and he returned on
shore.
The word backshich is the first of which a traveller learns the meaning
in Turkey; it signifies fee, or present. The Pasha receives backshich
for procuring a place or a pension for some petitioner; then, of course,
it is a present, and precisely as unwelcome as it is unexpected: the boy
who picks up your glove or your whip, as you ride along the street,
demands backshich—he must be fee’d for his civility. Nothing is to be
done in the country without backshich.
On entering the creek we despatched the servant and one of the
caïquejhes to the house of the Greek Archbishop of Broussa, to whom we
had brought a letter, and who had removed to the coast for the benefit
of sea-bathing; but his Holiness was from home, and there was
consequently no ingress for us. In this dilemma, for hotels there are
none, we had no alternative but to accept for a few hours the
hospitality of one of the boatmen, until we could procure horses to
carry us on to Broussa; and we consequently made our debût in Asia Minor
in an apartment up two flights of rickety stairs, walled with mud, and
shivering under our footsteps. But it suffices to state that the
caïquejhe was a Greek, for it to be understood at once by every Eastern
traveller that the house was cleanly to perfection; and our reception by
the hostess, even at that untoward hour, courteous and attentive.
Before the servant had brought the luggage up stairs, my father, worn
out by fatigue, was sound asleep upon the divan; and, when the attendant
had withdrawn, I also gladly prepared myself for the enjoyment of a few
hours’ repose; and, casting off my shoes, and winding a shawl about my
head, I took possession of the opposite side of the sofa, and should
soon have followed his example, when I was aroused by the light foot of
the caïquejhe’s wife in the apartment, who, opening a small chest, cast
over me a sheet and coverlet as white as snow, and then retired as
quietly as she came.
But that sheet and coverlet changed the whole tide of my feelings—the
chest in which they had been kept was of cypress wood—they were
strongly impregnated with its odour—I was exhausted by fatigue and
excitement—and a thousand visions of death and the grave came over me
in the half dreamy state in which I lay, that by no means added to my
comfort.
With a morbidity of imagination to which I am unhappily subject, I
followed up at length one fantastic and gloomy image, until I began to
believe myself in a state of semi-existence, habiting with the dead; but
the delusion was brief, for I was soon as disagreeably convinced that my
affair was at present altogether with the living. I had been warned that
Broussa was as celebrated for its bugs as for its baths, but I had never
contemplated such martyrdom at Moudania! I sprang from the sofa, shook
my habit with all my strength, and then, folding my fur pelisse for a
pillow, I stretched myself on the carpet, and left the luxuries of the
cushioned divan to my father; who, fortunately for him, proved to be a
sounder sleeper than myself.
At five o’clock, the horses came to the door; and after partaking
sparingly of the provisions which we had brought with us, we drank a cup
of excellent coffee, prepared by our hostess, and descended to the
street; where my European saddle, by no means a common sight at
Moudania, had collected a crowd of idlers.
Had Cruikshank been by when we started, we should assuredly not have
escaped his pungent pencil. My father led the van, mounted on a
high-peaked country saddle, with a saddle-cloth of tarnished embroidery,
and a pair of shovel stirrups; I followed, perched above a coarse
woollen blanket, with my habit tucked up to preserve it from the stream
of filth that was sluggishly making its way through the street; after me
came our Greek servant, sitting upon a pile of cloaks and great coats,
holding his pipe in one hand, and his umbrella in the other; and he was
succeeded in his turn by the serudjhe who had charge of our luggage, and
who rode between the portmanteaux, balancing the provision basket before
him, dressed in a huge black turban, ample drawers of white cotton, and
a vest of Broussa silk. The procession was completed by three attendants
on foot, the owners of the horses; and thus we defiled through the
narrow and dirty streets of Moudania, on our way to the ancient capital
of the Ottoman Empire.
For a time the mists were so dense that, although we had the sea-sand
beneath the hoofs of our horses, we could not distinguish the water;
and, as we turned suddenly to the right, and traversed a vineyard all
alive with labourers, the vapours were rolling off the sides of the
hills immediately in front of us. Feathered even to their summits with
trees, they appeared to rest against the thick folds of heavy white mist
in which they had been enveloped during the night, and presented the
most fantastic shapes. I never traversed a more lovely country;
vineyards were succeeded by mulberry plantations and olive groves,
gardens of cucumber plants, beet-root, and melons, stretches of rich
corn land, and immense plains, hemmed in by gigantic mountains, of which
the unredeemed portions were a perfect garden.
I have spoken, in my little work on Portugal, of the beauty of the wild
flowers in that country, but I found that those of Asia even transcended
them. Delicate flowing shrubs, herbs of delicious perfume, and blossoms
of every dye, were about our path: the bright lilac-coloured gum-cistus,
with a drop of gold in its centre—the snowy privet, with its scented
cone—the wild hollyhock—the bindweed, as transparent and as variously
coloured as in an European parterre—the mallow, with its pale petals of
pink and white—the turquoise, as blue as a summer sky, and as large as
a field-daisy—the foxglove, springing from amid the rocky masses by the
wayside, like virtue struggling with adversity, and seeming doubly
beautiful from the contrast; the bright yellow blossom which owes to its
constantly vibrating petals the vulgar name of “woman’s tongue”—the
sweet-scented purple starch-flower—wild roses, woodbine, and, above
all, the passion-flower, somewhat smaller than that cultivated in
Europe, but retaining perfectly its pale tints and graceful character,
were mingled with a thousand others that were new to me.
Upon one spot on this plain I saw the richest clump of vegetation that I
ever met with in my life, it was a small mound near the road-side,
covered with dwarf aloes and arum; I made one of the seridjhes tear up a
plant of the latter for me to examine, and it was perfectly gigantic;
the blossom measured eighteen inches from the base of the calyx to the
extremity of the petal; the colour was a deep, rich ruby, and the stem
was five or six feet in height. I need scarcely add that the stench
which it emitted was intolerable, and we were obliged to rub our hands
with wild chamomile to rid ourselves of it.
The butterflies were small, sober-coloured, and scarce; but the birds
which surrounded us were various and interesting—the bulfinch, the
elegant black-cap, the nightingale, making the air vocal; and the
cuckoo, whose sharp, quick note cut shrilly through the sweet song with
which it could not assimilate—the skylark, revelling in light, and
drinking in the sunshine—the partridge, half hidden amid the corn, or
winging its way along the valley, kept us constant company; while the
majestic storks sailed over our heads, with their long thin legs folded
back, and their long thin necks stretched forward, steering themselves
by their feet; or remained, gravely standing near the road-side, eyeing
us as we passed with all the confidence of impunity.
After rising a tolerably steep hill, we descended into a plain of vast
extent, through which brawled a rapid river crossed by a bridge of
considerable span, wherein a herd of buffaloes were cooling themselves;
some lying on their sides wallowing in the mud, and others standing up
to their noses in water, and defying the fierce beams of a sun under
which we were almost fainting. As I pulled up for an instant to observe
them, a kingfisher darted from a clump of underwood overhanging the
bank, glittering in the light, and looking as though it had pilfered the
rainbow.
Having passed the plain, we again descended, and stopped mid-way of the
mountain before a little hut of withered boughs, tenanted by a
superb-looking Turk, who dispensed coffee and pipes to travellers;
beside the hut a handsome fountain of white granite poured forth a
copious stream of sparkling rock water: and on the other side of the
road a very fine walnut tree overshadowed a bank covered with grass.
Upon this bank the servant spread our mat; and, having removed the large
flapping hats of leg-horn which we wore, we revelled in the dense shade
and refreshing coolness; nor were we the only individuals to whom they
had proved welcome, for a portion of the space was already occupied by a
Turkish woman, whose husband was in the coffee-hut, and who accepted
readily a part of our luncheon, although she could not partake of it
with us, the presence of my father preventing the removal of her
yashmac. I felt glad that she received the offer in the spirit in which
it was made, for the Turks are so universally hospitable that my
obligations to them on this score are weighty; and, singularly enough,
this was the first occasion on which I had ever had an opportunity of
returning the compliment.
We lingered on this sweet spot nearly an hour, and then, continuing our
descent, and crossing a little stream at its foot, we clomb a lofty
mountain, whence we looked down upon a scene of surpassing beauty.
Before us towered a chain of rocks, whose peaks were clothed with snow;
and beneath us spread a valley dotted with mulberry and walnut trees,
green with corn and vineyards, and gay with scattered villages. At the
base of the highest mountain lay Broussa, and even in the distance we
could distinguish the gleaming out of the white buildings from among the
dense foliage which embosomed them.
From this point a new feature of beauty was added to the landscape:
fountains rose on all sides, the overflowing of whose basins had
frequently worn a deep channel across the road, where the waters rushed
glittering and brawling along. With the form of one of these fountains I
was particularly struck; it was evidently of considerable antiquity, and
was overshadowed by a majestic lime-tree, whose long branches stretched
far across the road; but its source was dried, and it was rapidly
falling to decay.
I hesitated for an instant whether I should sketch the fountain, or
again lend to it for an instant the voice that it had lost. I decided on
the latter alternative—and, seating myself upon the edge of the basin,
I hastily scratched the following stanzas in my note-book.
THE DRIED-UP FOUNTAIN.
The emblem of a heart o’er-tried,
I stand amid the waste;
My sparkling source has long been dried;
And the worn pilgrim, to whose ear
My gushing stream was once so dear,
Passes me by in haste.
No wild bird dips its weary wing
In my pure waters now;
No blushing flowers in beauty spring,
Fed by the gentle dews, that erst
Taught each fair blossom how to burst
With a yet brighter glow.
The nightingale responds no more
Since my glad sound was hushed,
As she was wont to do of yore,
To the continuous flow, which oft,
When leaves were rife, and winds were soft,
Like her own music gushed.
Still wave the lime-boughs, whose sweet shade
Was o’er my waters cast,
When high in Heaven the sunbeams played;
But o’er my dried-up basin now
Vainly is spread each leafy bough;
It but recalls the past—
And thus the human heart no less,
In its young ardent years,
Pours forth its gushing tenderness
Freely, as though time could not fling
A gloom around each lovely thing,
And turn its smiles to tears.
And thus, like me, it too must prove
How soon the spell goes by;
How falsehood follows fast on love,
Treachery on trust, and guile on truth;
Until the heart, so full in youth,
In age is waste and dry.
Worn heart, and dried-up fount—for ye
The world is fair in vain;
Birds sing, boughs wave, and winds are free;
But song, nor shade, nor breath, can more
Your joyful gush of life restore—
It will not flow again!
A great stretch of road, after we had passed the exhausted fountain,
traversed another of those immense plains for which this part of the
country is celebrated. No monotony, however, renders them irksome to the
traveller; on the contrary, they are characteristic and various in the
extreme. Gigantic walnut trees, laden with fruit; fig trees, almost
bending beneath their own produce; little wildernesses of gum cistus,
carpeting the earth with their petals; woods of mulberry trees;
stretches of dwarf oak, with here and there timber of larger size
overtopping them; grass land, gay with tents, pitched for the
accommodation of those who guard the droves of horses grazing in their
vicinity; camels browzing on the young shoots of the forest trees; herds
of buffaloes, with their flat and crescent-shaped horns folding
backward, and their coarse and scantily-covered hides caked with the mud
in which they have been wallowing; and flocks of goats as wild and as
agile as the chamois, keep the eye and the imagination alike employed.
Now and then a native traveller, mounted on his high-peaked saddle, with
a brace of silver-mounted pistols and a yataghan peeping from amid the
folds of the shawl that binds his waist; his ample turban descending low
upon his brow, and his yellow boots resting upon a pair of shovel
stirrups; his velvet jacket slung at his back, and the long pendent
sleeves of his striped silk robe hanging to his bridle-rein, passes you
by. His horse is, nine times out of ten, scarcely one remove from a
pony, but it can go like the wind; and, as it tosses its well-formed
head, expands its eager nostril, and scours along with its long tail
streaming in the wind, you are immediately reminded that both the animal
and his rider are, although remotely, of Tartar origin. Of course, the
horse has his charm against the Evil Eye, as well as his master; and,
moreover, perhaps, his brow-band, or breeching, prettily embroidered
with small cowries, and his saddle-cloth gay with the tarnished glories
of past splendour.
At times you are met by a party of Greek serudjhes returning to Moudania
with a band of hired horses, which, although they have probably tired
the patience and wearied the whip of their strange riders, are now
racing along amid the shouts and laughter of their owners, as though
they were engaged in a steeple-chase. A cloud of dust in the distance
heralds the approach of a train of rudely-shaped waggons, frequently
formed of wicker-work, drawn by oxen or buffaloes, and generally laden
with tobacco; while, nearer the city, gangs of donkeys, carrying
neatly-packed piles of mulberry boughs for the use of the silk-worms,
which form the staple trade of the neighbourhood, complete the moving
picture.
The river which traverses the plain is spanned by a bridge of five
beautifully-formed arches. When we passed, it was so shrunken that an
active leaper might have cleared it at a bound; but the current was
frightfully rapid, and the channel, heaped with flints and sand, had
evidently been insufficient to contain its volume during the winter, as
the land, for a wide space on either side, bore traces of having been
flooded.
On the edge of the plain stands the fountain of Adzim Tzèsmèssi,
overshadowed by three fine maple trees, and in itself exceedingly
picturesque. A rudely-constructed kiosk, raised a couple of steps from
the ground, and surrounded by seats, protects the small basin of granite
into which the water rises, and whence it afterwards escapes by pipes
into two exterior reservoirs: that which is shaded by the maples being
reserved for the use of travellers, and the other for the supply of
cattle.
Here, of course, we found a caféjhe, surrounded by a group of smokers;
and procured some excellent coffee and cherries.
During our halt, a party of Bohemian gipsies, on their way to the coast,
stopped to refresh themselves and their donkeys at the mountain spring;
they were about thirty in number, and the men were remarkably tall and
well-looking, but formidable enough, with their pistols and yataghans
peeping from their girdles; they had two or three sickly, weary children
in their train, who appeared half dead with heat and toil; and half a
dozen withered old women, who might have sat for the originals of
Macbeth’s witches, they were so “grim and grisly;” but there was one
female among them, a dark-eyed, rosy-lipped maiden of sixteen, or
thereabouts, who was the perfection of loveliness. For a while she stood
apart, but, as the rest of the tribe, attracted by my riding-dress,
clustered about me, and assailed me by questions to which I was utterly
unable to reply, she at length took courage and joined the party. As her
wild and timid glance wandered from me to her companions, I found that
it invariably rested upon one individual, and I had little difficulty in
filling up the romance suggested by her earnest looks. Nor was I
deceived; for when the tribe moved away, the bridle of her donkey was
held by the tall, sunburnt youth to whom she had attracted my attention;
and as they passed the stream, he did not relinquish it though he trod
knee-deep in water, when he might have traversed the little bridge
without wetting the soles of his feet; but in recompense of his
devotion, he feasted, as he went, on the smiles of his fair mistress,
and the cherries which I had poured into her lap. After their departure,
I made a hasty sketch of the fountain, and then quitted with reluctance
a spot so redolent of beauty.
The plain at this point appeared to be set in one uninterrupted
frame-work of mountains—the river ran shimmering and sparkling through
its centre—the mulberry and walnut trees were scattered thickly over
its entire surface—the clouds, as they flitted by, created a thousand
beautiful varieties of light and shade; and the soft wind that sighed
through the maple leaves almost made me forget my fatigue.
What rills of water we passed through after we left the plain! Every
quarter of a mile we encountered a fountain; and for upwards of a league
we rode through the heart of a mulberry plantation, fringed with noble
walnut trees. At some of the fountains, groups of women were washing;
and it was amusing to see them hastily huddling on their yashmacs as
they remarked the approach of our party. In many cases, the water which
escaped from the basins provided for it, ran rippling along the road,
and covering the whole surface for a considerable distance, ere it
buried itself among the long grass that skirted the plantation. The
mulberry wood was succeeded by gardens; and the rich, rank vegetation
reminded me strongly of Portugal, than which I never saw any country
more similar.
At a short distance from Broussa, a fine old wall, based on the living
rock, rose in its stern hoary decay immediately before our path;
clusters of mouldering towers, half overgrown with parasites, from among
which gleamed out the modern and many-gabled palace of some Turkish
noble, all apparently growing out of its grey remains, varied the
outline; nor did we lose sight of them until, on reaching the gate of
the city, we turned sharply to the right, in order to escape the Jews’
quarter; and, on arriving in that appropriated to the Greeks, took
possession of a furnished house, which had been prepared for us by the
polite attention of Mr. Z——, an Armenian merchant, to whom we had a
letter: when, on approaching the window, I found that the view was
bounded by the same old wall, crowned by a charming kiosk, with its
trelliced terrace and domed temple, overhung with roses; while the rock,
and even the wall itself, were thickly covered with wild vines, trailing
their long branches like garlands; flowering rock-plants in abundance,
and white jessamine and other parasites, rooted in the garden above, and
mingling their blossoms with those which Nature alone had planted.
A stately Turk was seated at the open window of the kiosk, smoking his
chibouk, and attended by his pipe-bearer; who, when he had satisfied his
own curiosity, slowly withdrew, and was shortly replaced by a female,
closely veiled, and followed by a couple of slaves. I fell asleep on
the sofa without obtaining a glimpse of her face; and, on awaking, found
that she had departed in her turn, and that a party of solemn-looking
Musselmauns had established themselves in the temple from which they
could overlook the whole of our apartment, where they were smoking, and
drinking large goblets of water.
I do not know when the party broke up, as I retreated to the other side
of the house, and took possession of a room whose windows looked into a
court enclosed by high walls painted in fresco, and containing two
pretty fountains, whose ceaseless murmurings soon lulled me once more to
sleep. A fine lime tree threw its shade far into the apartment—a female
voice was singing in the distance—and as I cast myself on the divan,
and closed my eyes, a feeling of luxury crept over me which influenced
my dreams.——
No wonder that my visions were of home, and of the best of mothers!—I
was in her arms—on her heart.
My first hour’s dream at Broussa was worth a waking day!