ALONG THE WALLS BESIDE THE GOLDEN HORN
THE fortifications which defended the side of the city along the Golden
Horn consisted of a single line of wall placed, for the most part, close
to the water's edge and flanked, it is said, by one hundred and ten
square towers. Like the bulwarks along the Sea of Marmora, they attained
their full length gradually, according as the northern extremity of the
landward walls, which they were to join, was carried farther to the
west, when Byzantium expanded into the City of Constantine, when the
City of Constantine grew into the City of Theodosius II., and, finally,
when, in 627, the outlying level portion of the suburb of Blachernæ was
brought within the bounds of the capital. The points along the shore of
the Golden Horn thus reached were successively the Stamboul head of the
Inner Bridge, the eastern border of the quarter of Aivan Serai, and the
present point of junction with the landward walls on the west of that
quarter. But the actual wall is, substantially, the work of the ninth
century, when the Emperor Theophilus reconstructed the fortifications
along both shores of the city, as the inscription, "Tower of Theophilus,
Emperor in Christ," found until recently upon almost every tower of the
line, proclaimed to the world. In the course of the improvements made in
the quarters along the Golden Horn, extensive portions of the
fortifications have disappeared, leaving scant remains to interest the
visitor. It should be added that the safety of this side of the city was
further secured by a chain stretched across the entrance of the harbour,
from a tower near Yali Kiosk Kapoussi, the Gate of Eugenius, to a tower
known as the Tower of Galata, somewhere near Kiretch Kapoussi on the
opposite shore.
The view of Constantinople from the Golden Horn, whether seen from the
bridges that cross the harbour, or from Pera, is universally admitted to
be as impressive and beautiful a spectacle as any city in the world can
present. The visitor of a day recognises its wonderful attractions at
the first glance, and long familiarity never allows one to feel
satisfied that he has given to the scene all the admiration which it
deserves. The dominant feature of the view is lordliness, although
beauty is almost equally manifest. Men spoke truly when they conferred
upon New Rome the title "The Queen of Cities," for the aspect of the
city is not only lovely, but carries in its aspect the unmistakable air
of the majesty and authority that befit the capital of a great Empire.
Here is an eye "to threaten and command." The city spreads itself before
you for some three miles on both sides of the Golden Horn, seated upon
hills that rise steeply from the water's edge, and lift the long and
wide panorama high into view. The buildings are packed close together,
and rise tier above tier from the shore to the summit of the hills.
Great mosques, rectangular buildings surmounted by domes and flanked by
graceful minarets, occupy the most commanding positions, and crown the
city with a diadem of oriental splendour. The Golden Horn, one of the
finest harbours in the world, where the warships of a nation may ride
at ease, and great merchantmen can moor along the shore, is so inwoven
with the city as to be its principal thoroughfare, its "Grand Canal,"
alive with boats of every description, and spanned by bridges over
which the population streams to and fro in great tides. The city is
generally irradiated by an atmosphere of extraordinary clearness,
brilliance, and warmth of colour. Sometimes the solid earth seems
transfigured by the light into a glorious spiritual essence. Early in
the morning, Constantinople is often shrouded in a thick veil of mist,
and, as the sun gains strength, it is beautiful to see the veil
gradually rent at different points, and the objects it covered emerge,
piece by piece, one by one, now here now there, a dome, a minaret, a
palace, a red-tiled roof, a group of cypresses, as though a magician was
constructing the city anew in your presence, until the immense capital
gleams before you in its mighty proportions and minute details. Nor is
the vision less memorable towards sunset, when the lights and shadows
paint this varied surface of hills and valleys, of land and water, while
the long array of mosques and minarets upon the hills overhanging the
Golden Horn rests against the deepening glory of the sky. It is the
vision which Browning saw with a poet's eye:--
Over the waters in the vaporous West
The sun goes down as in a sphere of gold
Behind the arm of the city, which between,
With all that length of domes and minarets,
Athwart the splendour, black and crooked runs
Like a Turk verse along a scimitar.
[Illustration: GOLDEN HORN, EARLY MORNING
Beyond the pile of buildings in the foreground a glimpse of the Golden
Horn is seen with Stamboul partly shrouded in mist in the distance.]
The portion of the Golden Horn to the east of the Galata Bridge is
crowded with foreign steamships, among which those bearing the flags of
Britain, France, Austria, Italy, Germany, Greece, and Roumania, are the
most conspicuous. It may not be to the credit of the country, nor for
its greatest advantage, that so much of the commerce of the place should
be in foreign hands, but this gathering of the nations in the harbour of
the city is imposing; it is an indication of the central position
occupied by the city in the world's affairs, and contributes largely to
form the cosmopolitan character for which Constantinople is
distinguished. Here the nations assemble to compete with one another as
nowhere else in the world, at least in a way so manifest and decisive.
This was a feature of the life of the city also before Turkish days.
There was a time, indeed, during the Middle Ages when the commerce
between the East and the West was exclusively in the hands of the
subjects of the Byzantine Empire, when the merchants of Constantinople
were the merchant princes of the civilised world. But not to speak of
the interference of the Saracens with the trade of the city, the
formidable competition of the Italian Maritime States began to make
itself felt towards the close of the eleventh century, and from that
time onwards became more and more serious until it well-nigh destroyed
the business carried on by the native inhabitants. This was due partly
to the enterprise of the Italian merchants, and partly to the policy
which purchased the aid of the Western States against the foes of the
Empire by means of commercial concessions which proved detrimental to
domestic trade. It was thus that Alexius Comnenus secured the help of
Venice against the Normans, and that Michael Palæologus obtained the
support of the Genoese, when, in 1261, he undertook the task of
recovering Constantinople from its Latin occupants. The attack upon
Constantinople in 1203-1204 by the Fourth Crusade, at the instigation of
the Doge Henrico Dandolo, was essentially a piratical expedition to
capture the commerce of the East for the benefit of the merchants of
Venice. In the course of time the foreign traders in Constantinople were
allowed by the Byzantine emperors to occupy the territory extending
along the southern shore of the Golden Horn from the Seraglio Point to
Zindan Kapoussi. They were grouped according to their nationality,
and placed beside one another in the following order, Saracens,
Genoese, Pisans, traders from Amalfi, Venetians. After 1261, the Genoese
were settled in Galata, where they have left a monument of their
occupation in the strong and massive Tower of Galata, that formed their
watch-tower and citadel, and where they established, at the very gates
of the capital, so strong a rival, that, as Gibbon observes, "The Roman
Empire might soon have sunk into a province of Genoa, if the Republic
had not been checked by the ruin of her freedom and naval power." These
foreign communities were allowed to be self-governing, so far as the
Byzantine Government was concerned. They had their own courts of
justice, and their own places of worship, even the Saracens being
allowed to possess a mosque. A certain number of houses, a certain
extent of territory, and particular piers at which their ships could
moor for discharging or receiving cargo, were assigned to them, and, as
a rule, they paid lower duties than native merchants did. Sometimes, it
seems they were liable to render military service, as though feudal
vassals, but to all intents and purposes they enjoyed under the
Byzantine emperors very much the position which foreigners in Turkey
now occupy, in virtue of the Capitulations granted by Sultans to
European residents. The original copies of several of the commercial
treaties between the Empire and the Italian States are preserved in the
archives of Venice, Genoa, and other cities of Italy, and furnish an
interesting chapter in the history of diplomacy and commerce.
[Illustration: THE BRIDGE FROM GALATA
The sailing boats used in these waters are constructed so that the mast
and sail can be lowered in a few seconds to shoot the arches of the
bridge.]
The most picturesque portion of the Golden Horn is that which lies
between the two bridges. Along the Galata shore, a large flotilla of
gaunt native barges, with short masts and long oblique yards, is
generally moored, waiting to be employed in the transhipment of the
cargoes that leave or reach the port. Here also a mass of native
shipping is laid up for the winter, after the fashion of the early days
of navigation. It is a dense forest of bare masts and poles involved in
a network of cordage, with the steep hill, upon which the stone houses
of Galata and Pera are built, as a rocky background. After a night of
rain, the scene changes. Then from every yard and mast, heavy, damp
sails are spread in the warm, misty, morning air, and you seem to look
upon a flock of great sea-birds opening their wings to bask in the
sunshine. Along the opposite shore, surmounted by the domes and
minarets of the Mosque of Sultan Suleiman, the bank is fringed with
native craft, laden with fruit or oil from the islands of the Ægean Sea,
or bringing planks and beams to the timber-yards at Odoun Kapan from the
lands beside the Danube. Timber has been stored at that point ever since
the days of Justinian the Great, if not ever since the city was founded.
Caiques flit to and fro, as if shuttles weaving the sundered parts of
the city together. While companies of fearless sea-gulls spread grey
wings and white breasts over the blue waters, and dance around in every
graceful form that motion can assume. It is the portion of the harbour
in which the world of the East is still most clearly reflected. The
reach of the Golden Horn beyond the Inner Bridge is specially devoted to
the service of the Turkish navy, and there may be seen such modern
things as ironclads, torpedo boats, and torpedo destroyers. The time was
when the Ottoman fleet which gathered here formed an imposing display of
naval strength. The Admiralty, Naval Hospital, and Dockyard are situated
on the northern bank. On the hill above the Dockyard is the Okmeidan,
the field to which the Sultans whose strong arms built up the Ottoman
Power came to exercise themselves in the use of the bow. It is studded
with pillars commemorating the long shots made by the imperial archers.
[Illustration: GOLDEN HORN
Seen from the water's edge on a misty morning; crowning the distant
heights is the Mosque of Suleiman the Magnificent.]
The southern bank, with its steep slopes crowded with konaks, gardens,
mosques, minarets, is noteworthy for the number of Byzantine churches
still found beside the shore or upon the hill-sides, preserving the
memory and something of the aspect of the ancient city. Among them are,
S. Theodosia (Gul Djamissi), Pantocrator (Kilissé Djamissi), Pantepoptes
(Eski Imaret Djamissi), Pammakeristos (Fetiyeh Djamissi), Chora
(Kahriyeh Djamissi), SS. Peter and Mark (Atik Mustapha Pasha Djamissi).
Close to the western extremity of the shore stood the Church of S. Mary
of Blachernæ, once the object of profoundest reverence on account of the
wonder-working power attributed to the reputed girdle and mantle of the
Mother of the Lord, enshrined among its relics. The site is marked by
the Holy Well formerly attached to the sanctuary. On the hill above the
Well are the scanty remains of the famous Palace of Blachernæ, once the
favourite residence of the Byzantine Court. In the quarter of Phanar the
humble residence and the cathedral of the Patriarch of Constantinople
are found. What a contrast to the days when the chiefs of the Eastern
Church were enthroned under the dome of S. Sophia! In the quarter of
Balat, and at Haskeui on the opposite shore, are large settlements of
Jews, to whose lowly dwellings belongs the historical interest that they
are the homes of the descendants of the Jews who were expelled from
Spain by Ferdinand and Isabella, and found refuge here among Moslems
from persecution by Christians. They still use the Spanish language,
although not with the music of the speech of Castile. The suburb of
Eyoub at the foot of the hills at the head of the Golden Horn, and the
meadows beside the fresh-water streams which enter the harbour at that
point (the Sweet Waters of Europe) are interesting to all who delight in
Oriental scenes. No quarter in or around the city is so Turkish in its
appearance and spirit as the suburb of Eyoub. It contains the reputed
grave of Eyoub, the standard-bearer of Mahomet, who was present at the
first siege of Constantinople (673-678) by the Saracens, and who died
during its course. The grave was identified, so it is believed, in 1453,
when the city fell at last into Turkish hands, and the mosque erected
over the tomb is the sanctuary in which Sultans, upon their accession
to the throne, gird on the sword which constitutes them sovereigns of
the Ottoman Empire, and standard-hearers of Islam. It is a ceremony
which embodies the inmost idea of a Moslem State. No Christian is
permitted to enter the mosque. On a recent occasion the veneration in
which the edifice is held served a noble purpose. During the massacres
of 1896, a crowd of Armenians took refuge in the court of the mosque,
with the courage of despair. A wild mob followed, intent upon the death
of the fugitives. A terrible scene seemed inevitable. When, at the
critical moment, the imaum of the mosque appeared, and forbade the
desecration of the holy ground by the shedding of blood upon it. The
appeal was irresistible. The horde of murderers bowed to the command to
be gone, and their intended victims were allowed to escape. The sacred
associations of the suburb have made burial in its soil to be esteemed a
great honour, and, accordingly, many distinguished Turkish personages
have been laid to rest here from early times. The old turbaned
tombstones, inscribed with Arabic letters, painted with floral designs,
shaded by trees and overrun by climbing plants, form as picturesque a
cemetery as one can wish to see. The influence of the suburb is not
weakened by the fact that it enters into the life of Turkish children
by being a great factory of their toys. The hill above Eyoub commands a
magnificent view of the Golden Horn and the city. As to the scene in the
valley of the Sweet Waters, where Turkish ladies gather on Fridays in
early spring, it is no longer what it once was. The exchange of native
vehicles for carriages such as may be seen in Paris or London, and the
general use by Turkish ladies of quiet colours in their mantles and
head-dress instead of bright hues, have robbed the spectacle of almost
all its gaiety, originality, and decorative effect. The scene offers now
rather a study in the transformation of the Turkish woman, than a
presentation of her peculiar aspect and character. Still, as the change
is not complete, a stranger may yet find pleasure in seeing what
vestiges of former manners and customs have not disappeared.
[Illustration: SULEIMANIYEH AT SUNRISE
The Mosque of Suleiman the Magnificent, occupying one of the finest
sites in the city, is seen here at early sunrise emerging from the mist
on the Golden Horn.]
[Illustration: CEMETERY AT EYOUB
A cobble-paved pathway in the most picturesque cemetery in
Constantinople.]
Of the historical events of which the Golden Horn has been the theatre,
the most important are: first, the attack upon the walls along this side
of the city, in 1203, and again in 1204, by the Venetian fleet which
accompanied the Fourth Crusade; second, the transportation by Sultan
Mehemet into its waters in 1453, of warships over the hill that
separates the harbour from the Bosporus. The movements of the Venetian
fleet and of the army which accompanied it can be followed step by step,
so minute is the description of Ville-Hardouin and so unaltered the
topography of the country. Upon approaching the city the invaders put in
at San Stefano, now a favourite suburban resort upon the Sea of Marmora.
A south wind carried them next to Scutari. From that point they crossed
to the bay now occupied by the Palace of Dolma Bagtché, near Beshiktash.
There the army landed, and advancing along the shore attacked the tower
to which the northern end of the chain across the harbour's mouth was
fastened. Upon the capture of the tower after a feeble resistance, the
chain was cut, and the fleet of Venice under the command of Dandolo,
flying the ensign of S. Mark, rode into the Golden Horn and made for the
head of the harbour. At the same time, the troops marched towards the
same point, along the northern shore, where Cassim Pasha and Haskeui are
now situated. At the latter suburb they crossed the stone bridge that
led to Eyoub on the southern bank. Then turning eastwards, they seized
the hill facing the portion of the city walls above which the windows
and domes of the Palace of Blachernæ looked towards the west. While
the army prepared to attack that point, the ships of Dandolo stood
before the harbour walls, in a long line from Aivan Serai to the Phanar
and the neighbourhood of the present Inner Bridge. A desperate assault
followed, in which twenty-five towers were carried by the Venetians, and
the day would have been won, but for the repulse of the land forces and
the necessity to hasten to their relief. Soon a revolution within the
city against the usurper whom the Crusaders had come to depose, and in
favour of the restoration of Isaac Angelus, whose claim to the throne
they supported, seemed to bring the struggle to an end. As a sign that
amicable relations had been established, and to avoid the danger of
angry collisions with the citizens, the invaders removed their forces to
the northern side of the Golden Horn. But the conditions on which help
had been rendered to Isaac Angelus were too hard to be fulfilled; and
insistence upon them provoked the national feeling against the foreign
intruders. The imperial protegés of the Crusaders were murdered, or died
from fear, and the smouldering embers of the strife burst once more into
flames. The army of the Crusade was therefore taken on board the fleet,
and proceeded to make a joint attack upon the portion of the harbour
walls which Dandolo had once before captured. Victory wavered from side
to side. At length, on Easter Monday 1204, Venetian ships approached so
near to the walls in the Phanar quarter that bridges attached to the
masts settled upon the parapet of the fortifications. Brave knights
rushed across, cut down the defenders, clambered down into the city, and
threw open the nearest gates. The blind Doge, ninety years old, leaped
upon the beach, with the banner of S. Mark in his hands, and summoned
his men to follow. The Emperor Murtzuphlus, who watched these operations
from the terrace of the Church of Pantepoptes, fled, and for the first
time in its history, Constantinople became the prize of a foreign foe.
[Illustration: GALATA AND STAMBOUL FROM EYOUB
From the cemetery at Eyoub, overhanging the Golden Horn at the upper
end, an attractive panorama is presented. On the right are the domes and
minarets of Stamboul stretching away to Seraglio Point; in the distance
is Mount Olympus on the Asiatic coast, while on the right are Galata,
Pera, and the Arsenal.]
The transportation of a fleet over the hill that rises some two hundred
and fifty feet between the Bosporus and the Golden Horn was a skilful
piece of strategy, and formed one of the most striking incidents in the
siege of 1453. By compelling attention to the safety of the walls along
the harbour, it extended the line of attack, and weakened the defence of
the landward walls. To effect the passage, a road was made through the
ravines leading from Beshiktash on the straits to Cassim Pasha on the
Golden Horn. On that road well-greased logs were laid, like the sleepers
on a railway, and then some seventy or eighty galleys, of fifteen,
twenty, or twenty-two pairs of oars, were placed in ships' cradles and
dragged by men, oxen, and buffaloes, in the course of a single night, up
one slope and down the other, from sea to sea. The incongruous form of
navigation put everybody concerned in making the voyage into good
humour. Drums beat, fifes sounded, and to add to the zest of the
enterprise, the sails were unfurled, the oars were pulled, the rudders
set, as if the vessels were proceeding over their native element. But
the apparition of the enemy's ships in the Golden Horn afforded no
amusement to the besieged. It increased immensely their anxiety and the
difficulties of their task. A brave attempt to burn the Turkish vessels
failed, and though the flotilla actually did little in the way of direct
attack, it remained a standing menace to the northern side of the city
until the close of the siege, a thunder-cloud keeping men in constant
dread of the bolts that might dart from its black bosom. Very
appropriately, the Turkish Admiralty stands on the shore of the bay in
which an Ottoman fleet first rode the waters of the Golden Horn.
[Illustration: GOLDEN HORN AFTER SUNSET
When all traffic ceases, caïques, lighters, steamboats, and craft of all
kinds are taken to their moorings and the waters are silent and
deserted.]