CHAPTER IV

ALONG THE WALLS

For a person wishing to become acquainted with a great city, ready to

admire beautiful scenery, and furnished with adequate information,

nothing of the kind can be more interesting and memorable than to make

the circuit of the old fortifications of Constantinople. It is a tour of

thirteen miles, in the course of which, the city, set in the frame of

its splendid natural surroundings, is seen from many different points of

view, while at the same time the historical student travels through

eleven long centuries, crowded with events not only of local interest

but of world-wide importance.

_Along the Walls beside the Sea of Marmora_

The aspect which the city presents towards the Sea of Marmora and the

Asiatic coast is by many persons considered to be the most beautiful

view of Constantinople. It is certainly a very attractive view. Seated

on ground rising with long and steep ascent to the ridge of the

promontory, the city lies spread before you, from the Seraglio Point to

the Seven Towers, over an area five miles in length. As from every other

point so here also, Constantinople shows as much as possible of itself

at a time. It always appears in large dimensions, lofty, spacious,

far-reaching; never descending from its throne, never laying aside its

majesty, but constantly maintaining an imperial mien. Along the sky-line

is an array of domes and minarets that, in brilliant sunshine, gleam as

though made of whitest alabaster. While at the feet of the city lies a

sea of sapphire, lovely as a lake; not so broad as to place the city

into dim distance, yet wide enough to give the great metropolis

sufficient foreground to set off its size and dignity, to obliterate

petty details, to render prominent its salient features, to soften any

ruggedness, to silence its din, and make the quiet grey tones of its

dwellings blend harmoniously with the overhanging heavens and with the

surrounding waters. It is, if the expression is allowable, the most

poetical view of the Queen of Cities. Sometimes, an early watcher on the

Asiatic shore beholds a vision of extraordinary beauty. The silhouette

of the slumbering capital is seen against a darker mass of clouds that

gathered in the west during the hours of the night. Suddenly, in the

hush of dawn, a delicate pink light gleams on a minaret here or a dome

yonder. It tints minaret after minaret, dome after dome, house after

house. It spreads downwards and athwart, transfiguring everything its

rosy fingers touch, until the city, still set against a dark background,

is radiant with indescribable grace. Very beautiful also is the scene

towards sunset, when the slopes descending to the Marmora are in shade,

and the glowing vault of heaven is a canopy of glory; when the windows

in the dome of S. Sophia, as the last beams of day shine through them,

sparkle like jewels in a coronet, and the sea beneath seems woven of

crimson, gold, and purple. Nor can one fail to recall the soft tranquil

beauty of the scene when the Sea of Marmora glitters in the moonlight,

and the golden waters kiss the shadows of the broken towers and

battlements that watched and guarded the city in the days of old.

There is a grave in the British cemetery at Haidar Pasha, which,

contrary to the usual mode of interment, fronts westwards to be turned

towards this side of the city. It is the grave of an Englishwoman,

who, from her Asiatic home near Kadikeui, looked upon these views for

many years, and felt their spell so strongly, that by her express order

she was laid to rest in a position in which she might face their beauty

even in death.

[Illustration: SERAGLIO POINT FROM "THE STONES"

On the Seraglio hill in the middle distance is the palace formerly

occupied by the Sultans.]

The fortifications beside the Sea of Marmora consisted of a wall that,

for the most part, followed closely the sinuosities of the shore, and

was flanked, if the account of a mediæval traveller may be trusted, by

no less than 188 square towers. The works attained their full extent in

three distinct stages, corresponding to the successive periods in the

growth of the city. The portion from the Seraglio Point to the

neighbourhood of Achour Kapoussi represented the bulwarks of old

Byzantium. The portion from the latter point to the vicinity of Daoud

Pasha Kapoussi, the ancient Gate of S. Æmilianus, was added by

Constantine the Great, and possibly the wall bounding the vegetable

gardens of Vlanga Bostan, formed part of the original defences erected

by the founder of New Rome. The extension of the line from Daoud Pasha

Kapoussi to the southern extremity of the landward walls was a

consequence of the enlargement of the city in the reign of Theodosius

II. For the protection of these ramparts against the waves of the

Marmora in angry mood, boulders ranged in loose order were placed in the

sea, at a short distance from the shore, to serve as a breakwater.

Still, like Canute, the emperors of Constantinople often found that the

sea scorned their control, and was the worst foe these bulwarks had

cause to dread. For instance, a furious storm which occurred on the 12th

February 1332 hurled the waves over the battlements, opened breaches,

forced the gates, and poured devastation into every adjoining quarter.

In the spring of 764 the walls near the Seraglio Point were damaged

under most extraordinary circumstances. The preceding winter in the

regions along the northern and the western coasts of the Black Sea had

been so severe, that the sea itself was frozen hard to an immense

distance from the shore. Upon the breaking up of the frost-bound waste,

a long procession of ice-floes entered the Bosporus on their way to the

south. They came in such numbers that for some time the channel at the

Marmora end of the straits was blocked, and men crossed from Scutari to

Galata and to S. Mamas (Beshiktash), and from Chalcedon (Kadikeui) to

the city (Stamboul) with perfect safety. When at length the ice broke

again and moved forward, two huge fragments were flung against the

Seraglio Point by the swollen currents coursing in that direction. The

strange assailants towered above the battlements, and made the city

quake with fear before the weird enemy at whose cold touch strong

bulwarks crumbled to pieces. How frequently these walls suffered from

their exposure to storm and weather appears in the numerous inscriptions

found upon them in honour of restorers of the works. The most extensive

repairs were made in the reign of Theophilus (829-842), and large

portions of the existing walls belong to his reign. But many other

emperors were likewise concerned in maintaining these fortifications in

proper order, as for example, Leo the Wise, Basil II., Manuel Comnenus,

Michael Palæologus, Andronicus II., and Andronicus III. The legends

commemorating repairs are usually formal, laconic records of the names

and titles of the rebuilder of a tower or of the curtain of the wall.

Three of the inscriptions, however, allow us to see more into the heart

of the persons they celebrate, and bring us into touch with the spirit

of the times. One of them, forming a line 60 feet long, is found on the

wall to the north of Deïrmen Kapoussi, and reads to the following

effect:--"Possessing Thee, O Christ, as a wall that cannot be broken,

Theophilus the pious sovereign and emperor, erected this wall upon new

foundations; which (wall) Lord of All, guard with Thy might, and display

to the end of time standing unshaken and unmoved." The second

inscription referred to speaks more directly of the injury sustained by

the wall owing to the proximity of the sea:--"In the year 1024, Basil,

the pious sovereign, erected from the foundations this tower, which the

dashing of the sea, battering it for a long time with many and violent

waves, compelled to fall." The third inscription tells that in the year

1448, only five years before the fall of the city, George, the Despot of

Servia, contributed funds towards the repair of these defences, thus

showing clearly how well he understood that the fate of his kingdom was

bound up with the fate of Constantinople.

[Illustration: THE SERAGLIO LIGHTHOUSE AND SCUTARI

The lighthouse occupies a prominent position near the old palace of the

Sultans overlooking the Sea of Marmora.]

The fortifications beside the Sea of Marmora were not called to occupy a

prominent place in the active defence of the city; that is to say, they

were never the object of a serious hostile attack. This was only what

might be expected so long as the Empire maintained its naval

superiority to the enemies with whom it was called to contend. But the

Empire was not always master of the sea. And the immunity of these

fortifications from attack was then due to the difficulties which the

currents that sweep along this shore place in the way of the approach of

ships within striking distance. The fear that the currents would carry

his ships out to sea was the reason why Dandolo refused to bring the

fleet of the Fourth Crusade into action against this side of the

capital. The nearest semblance of an attack upon these fortifications

was when Heraclius, in 610, brought up a fleet from Carthage to depose

the tyrant Phocas, and took up a position before the Harbour of Julian

or Sophia, the remains of which are seen in the quarter of Kadriga

Limani below the Hippodrome. But that was more in the nature of a

hostile demonstration than an active assault, for the citizens welcomed

Heraclius as a deliverer, and carried Phocas to him as a prisoner. Still

the comparative security of these walls from attack did not warrant

leaving them in a state to tempt an enemy to strike a blow, and

accordingly, though sometimes neglected in time of peace, they were

promptly put in order whenever a hostile fleet was expected. This was

particularly the case during the period of the Palæologi, when Genoa and

Venice and the Ottoman Turks ruled on the sea, and the naval strength of

the Empire had fallen into utter decay. In the siege of 1453, the

Turkish fleet blockaded this side of the city from the Seraglio Point to

Vlanga.

In following the course of these walls to note the arrangements of the

city, and to recall historical associations, only a very brief mention

of what is most prominent and memorable is here possible. Beginning at

the head of the promontory, we have first the eastern portion of the

Seraglio Grounds, presenting to view the crags upon which stood the

Acropolis of old Byzantium. To become the master of that hilltop, with

its wonderful outlook and great strategic value was the ambition of

Xenophon and "The Ten Thousand" on their famous retreat from Persia, of

Philip of Macedon, of Severus Septimius, of Constantine the Great, not

to mention other aspirants. After the foundation of Constantinople,

until Turkish days, the site of the Acropolis formed an ordinary part of

the city, the most conspicuous edifice on that position being the Church

of S. Irene. There also was the hospital of Sampson, as well as that of

Eubulus. Among the buildings on the level tract below the Acropolis

were two theatres, inherited from Byzantium, one of which has left its

stamp in the hollow ground now occupied by the vegetable gardens to the

rear of Deïrmen Kapoussi. Scattered over the adjoining territory was a

crowd of churches in which saints encamped to guard this exposed point

of the city; a host led by S. Barbara, patroness of arms, S. George, the

Slayer of the Dragon, S. Mary Hodegetria, with her icon ascribed to S.

Luke, and regarded as a palladium. The Mangana or Arsenal, stored with

military engines for the defence of the walls, also stood in this

vicinity. The vaulted substructures near the ruins of Indjili Kiosk

belonged to the Palace of the Mangana, to which the imperial household

resorted to enjoy the cool breezes that winged their way down the

Bosporus from the north. Here also was a public park, the Philopation,

and an atrium built by Justinian the Great, crowded on summer

afternoons, when this side of the city is in shade, by people who loved

to look out upon the sparkling water, and the hills of the opposite

Asiatic shore, resplendent in the mellow light of the setting sun. The

fine building that formed the Thermæ of Arcadia was in this

neighbourhood, and a portion of the polo grounds, Tzycanisterion,

attached to the palace of the Byzantine emperors.

[Illustration: CRIMEAN MEMORIAL BRITISH CEMETERY, HAIDAR PASHA

Erected to the memory of the British soldiers and sailors who fell in

the Crimean War.]

Fifteen years after the Turkish occupation, Sultan Mehemet the Conqueror

transferred his residence from his palace on the hill now surmounted by

the War Office to this quarter of the city, and for the security of his

new abode built the wall that, on its way across the promontory, from

the Sea of Marmora to the Golden Horn, passes to the north of S. Sophia.

In its general plan the Seraglio was a series of three courts, opening

one into the other; and around and within them, embowered in groves of

plane-trees and of cypresses, rose the numerous and picturesque edifices

which served the convenience of the imperial household. But however

inferior in the magnificence created by art, no royal abode has ever

been invested by nature with the beauty and lordliness surrounding that

in which the Ottoman Sultans sat enthroned from Mehemet the Conqueror to

Abdul Medjid, with its grand outlook over Asia, Europe, and the great

waterway between the lands on the north and on the south.

"It was at once a royal palace, a fortress, and a sanctuary; here was

the brain and heart of Islam, a city within a city, inhabited by a

people, and guarded by an army, embracing within its walls an infinite

variety of edifices, places of pleasure or of horror; where the Sultans

were born, ascended the throne, were deposed, imprisoned, strangled;

where all conspiracies began and the cry of rebellion was first heard;

where for three centuries the eyes of anxious Europe, timid Asia, and

frightened Africa were fixed, as on a smoking volcano, threatening ruin

on all sides."

The slopes which descend from S. Sophia and the Hippodrome to the Sea of

Marmora, immediately outside the Seraglio Enclosure, are also haunted by

memories of splendour and power, for upon them stood the great palace of

the Emperors of New Rome from the time of Constantine the Great to

almost the end of the Byzantine Empire. The site did not command so

extensive a view of the Bosporus as the Seraglio enjoyed, nor had it the

outlook of the latter upon the Golden Horn and the busy life of the

harbour. But its prospect over the Sea of Marmora and the hills and

mountains of the Asiatic coast, rising to the snows of Mount Olympus or

merged in the pale blue of the distant horizon, was wider. It had also

the advantage of a sunnier and more temperate climate. The site was

furthermore recommended by its proximity to the Hippodrome, as direct

communication between the palace and that arena of the city's public

life, in serious or gay mood, was of paramount importance in

Constantinople as at Rome. We must therefore imagine these slopes wooded

with trees, and crowded with stately buildings, often domed, for the

accommodation of a Court which sought, in pomp and luxury never

surpassed, to find all that power and pleasure can do to satisfy the

human heart. As in the case of Byzantine churches, so in the edifices

forming the "Sacred Palace," artistic effort was chiefly devoted to the

decoration of the interior, and it was with similar means, marble

revetments and mosaics, that artistic effects were produced.

The throne-room, for instance, was, as we shall find in the sequel,

almost a facsimile of the Church of SS. Sergius and Bacchus. Like that

church it was an octagonal hall enclosed in a square, and surmounted by

a dome pierced by windows.

Each division of the octagon formed a bay under a semi-dome, and above

the bays was a rich entablature, with a cornice that projected so as to

constitute a gallery. The floor was paved with slabs of porphyry and

variegated marbles, arranged to form beautiful designs and set in

borders of silver, while walls and vaults gleamed with mosaics. The

hall was entered from the west, and in the bay directly opposite stood

the throne, with an icon of Christ in mosaic in the conch above it. The

bay immediately to the south of the throne was the emperor's

robing-room, leading to a chapel in which his robes of state, his crowns

and arms, and two enamelled gold shields, studded with pearls and

precious stones, were kept under the guardianship of S. Theodore. The

other state rooms of the palace were all varieties of the same type,

displaying more or less skill and taste, according to the fluctuations

of art in Constantinople. Of all the magnificence that once adorned

these slopes, nothing remains but unshapely masses of brickwork, broken

shafts, fallen capitals and empty sarcophagi! Slopes that vied with the

Palatine as a seat of power, they are without a vestige of the grandeur

that lingers around the ruined home of the Cæsars! The higher part of

the site of the palace is now occupied by the Mosque of Sultan Achmed,

the six minarets of which, combined with the four minarets of S. Sophia,

make so striking a feature in the aspect of this part of the city. Upon

the lower slopes lives a Turkish population that never dreams of the

splendour buried beneath its humble dwellings.

Close to Tchalady Kapou, and at the water's edge, are the ungainly ruins

of the residence of Justinian the Great and Theodora, before their

accession to the throne. Here began the romance of their lives. In

course of time additional buildings were put up at this point, and the

group thus formed became the Marine Residence attached to the Great

Palace. Here was the little harbour at the service of the Court, with

marble steps descending to the water from a quay paved with marble, and

adorned with many marble figures of lions, bears, bulls, and ostriches.

Here the Emperor embarked or disembarked when moving in his imperial

barge from one part of the city to another by water. One of the pieces

of statuary, representing a lion attacking a bull, bestowed upon this

Marine Residence the name Bucoleon (The Bull and Lion), under which

designation it is frequently mentioned in Byzantine history. There was

enacted the tragedy of the assassination of the noble Nicephorus Phocas

by John Zimisces, with the connivance of the Empress Theophano, the

victim's wife; a typical instance of the intrigues and crimes that often

dishonoured the palace of the Byzantine emperors. The story has

recently been told by the brilliant pen of Mr. Frederic Harrison, and

therefore must not be repeated. But the visitor to the spot can recall

the event with startling vividness, so well preserved is the stage on

which the tragedy was acted. Directly opposite, on the Asiatic shore, is

Chalcedon, where the conspirators joined Zimisces to proceed to the

scene of their cruel work. The Sea of Marmora over which, on that fatal

night, a snowstorm spread a veil to hide the boat which bore the

conspirators across the sleeping waters, comes up to the very base of

the palace. From one of the palace windows overhanging the sea, a

basket, attached to a rope, was let down again and again to the boat,

and again and again drawn up, with one conspirator in it at a

time--Zimisces being the last--until the whole band stood within the

imperial abode. And somewhere in the vaulted building we still find at

the water's edge, and whose ruins seem haunted by evil ghosts, was the

chamber in which the doomed emperor lay slumbering on the floor, and was

rudely awakened to know all the bitterness of ingratitude and the

sharpness of a cruel death. Geography and topography are certainly the

eyes of history.

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE MOSQUE OF SULTAN AHMED I.

This mosque is beautifully decorated with blue and green tiles; on the

right is the minber (pulpit) built of marble intricately carved and

delicately tinted; behind it is one of the four great marble columns

that support the roof.]

To the west of the Bucoleon is the beautiful Church of SS. Sergius and

Bacchus, erected by Justinian the Great; for some account of which the

reader is referred to the chapters on the churches of the city. The

district extending thence to the ancient Gate of S. Æmilianus (Daoud

Pasha Kapoussi) is remarkable for having been occupied by the artificial

harbours, constructed, from time to time, on the southern side of the

city in the interest of commerce, or for the use of the imperial navy.

They were four in number, and, notwithstanding the changes of centuries,

they have left their impress upon the ground to a degree which allows

their site and contour to be clearly identified. First in the order of

position, though not of time, came the Harbour of the Emperor Julian,

below the Hippodrome. It has already been noticed in the history of the

making of Constantinople. It was used for some time even after the

Turkish Conquest, but was ultimately abandoned for the deeper water

found along the shores of the Golden Horn. The Harbour of the

Kontoscalion followed; in the quarter which the Greek population still

designates by that old name, but which is commonly known as Koum

Kapoussi. It has been filled in, but the mole remains, as well as a

considerable portion of the wall around the basin of the harbour. The

entrance could be closed against an enemy by great gates of iron bars,

and in bad weather three hundred galleys, of fifty or a hundred pairs of

oars, might be seen taking refuge here, waiting for a favourable wind.

Next in order was the Harbour of Kaisarius, known also as the Neorion or

Dockyard of the Heptascalon, which stood where the Turkish quarter of

Tulbenkdji Djamissi is now situated. But few traces of it are left.

Indeed its position had been forgotten, and its distinctness from the

other harbours along this shore ignored, until 1819, when a great fire

in the district revealed the fact that the quarter of Tulbenkdji

Djamissi stood in the basin of an old harbour, enclosed by a wall built

in three tiers of huge blocks. This agreed with other indications of the

presence of a harbour at this point hitherto left unexplained--a mole in

front of the shore of the quarter, and a gap in the mole forming an

entrance to which corresponded an old opening in the city walls, now

closed by masonry of Turkish construction. It harmonised also with the

description which the historian Pachymeres gives of a harbour

constructed or restored by the Emperor Michael Palæologus on this side

of the city. Here Phocas placed troops to oppose the landing of

Heraclius, and here also the Emperor Constantine Pogonatus, in 673,

stationed his ships, armed with Greek fire, to await the fleet of the

Saracens in the first siege of Constantinople by that formidable foe.

Last in order of position was the harbour on the site of the vegetable

gardens of Vlanga Bostan, a work, as we have seen, belonging to the time

of the founder of the city, and known first as the Harbour of

Eleutherius, its original constructor, and later as the Harbour of

Theodosius I., who improved it. Its mole and extensive portions of the

walls around it remain, and carry thought back to the city's earliest

days.

These harbours are a monument to the great commercial activity of the

city during the Middle Ages, and formed a feature in the life and aspect

of the place which has disappeared. Occasionally, in the fruit-season, a

considerable number of the ships and large caïques engaged in the

coasting trade between the city and the ports of the Sea of Marmora

anchor off the points once occupied by these harbours, and help the

imagination to recall the animation, the busy crowds, the varied

merchandise, the picturesque craft and strange crews that made what

is now an almost silent shore one of the liveliest and most interesting

quarters of New Rome. Owing to the sand thrown up against this coast,

all these harbours demanded frequent cleaning and restoration, and had a

hard struggle for existence. They were at length neglected, and, one

after another, turned into dry land on which to plant market gardens, or

build dwellings for the poor.

[Illustration: PRINKIPO (PRINCES ISLANDS)

A favourite summer resort of wealthy residents of Constantinople.]

The tract of the city extending from Vlanga Bostan to the landward walls

was noted for the number and importance of its churches and monasteries.

Conspicuous among them was the Church and monastery of S. Mary

Peribleptos in the district of Psamatia. It was destroyed by fire in

1782, and is represented by the modern Armenian Church of S. George,

generally styled, after the cistern beneath the old edifice, Soulou

Monastir.

The Church of S. John Studius, now a sad ruin, stood likewise in this

part of the city. So did the Church and monastery of S. Diomed, upon

whose steps one day, towards sunset, a way-worn youth in quest of

fortune lay down to rest, after his long journey from Macedonia, and

rose to become, in a capital where strange careers were possible, the

Emperor Basil I. He founded a dynasty that occupied the throne of the

Byzantine Empire for two centuries, and counted among its members such

notable sovereigns as Basil II. the Slayer of the Bulgarians, Nicephorus

Phocas the Conqueror of the Saracens, John Zimisces who drove the

Russians out of Bulgaria across the Danube.

Constantinople, painted by Warwick Goble, described by Alexander Van Millingen · 第 4 / 13 章