CXXXIV.
Constantinople, May 1, 1858.
I find myself at a remote point from Grand Cairo, having extended my route in order to visit the Crimea and other parts of the Black sea.
On our arrival at Jaffa we found some thousands of pilgrims waiting opportunities to embark for their homes. Immense numbers had been at Jerusalem, but as I had passed the Passion Week once in the Holy City, had climbed the Mount of Olives, wandered through the Valley of Jehoshaphat, bathed my eyes in the Pool of Siloam, refreshed myself at the Brook of Kedron, swum in the Jordan and reposed at Bethlehem, I was unwilling to lose first impressions by a revisit. At that period, after a voyage across the desert of sixteen days upon camelback, the Land of the Philistines and the Gardens of Sharon were quite refreshing, but now steam has revolutionized travel, and distance is quite annihilated. There were several steamers in the dangerous roadstead taking away the pilgrims. One of the number had been wrecked and stranded in a late gale, and twenty-nine of her passengers and crew lost. We took away some three hundred, mostly deck passengers, consisting of Greeks, Copts, Armenians, and Latins, from all the countries of the Levant. Such a beggarly looking party of all races and costumes it would be difficult to scrape together. They were penned up like cattle on the deck, men, women, and even children; and you may imagine what effect a heavy sea produced upon the party.
We coasted along the shore of ancient Tyre and Sidon with Mount Carmel in full view, and debarked at Beyroot, a pretty town with picturesque environs, backed by the mountains of Lebanon, and occupied by the Druses and Maronites.
After a sojourn of a few days I took passage for the island of Cyprus, interesting for its historical reminiscences and famous for its sweet wine; then proceeded to the island of Rhodes. The old city is in a dilapidated condition. Earthquakes have made sad havoc from time to time, one of which is said to have destroyed the great Colossus. The old streets of the Knights of St. John, with their armorial insignia upon the fronts of the houses, are well preserved.
Smyrna I found improved. The rebuilding of good, substantial stone houses upon the sites of the burnt districts, where miserable, rickety wooden buildings stood, has greatly changed the appearance of this large commercial city. The fruit trade brings vessels of all nations into its capacious bay. A view from Mount Pagos, where are the remains of an old Genoese fort, embraces one of the most beautiful of panoramas.
Having had three passages by the Lloyd Austrian steamers, I there took the French Messagerie, imperial packet, via the Dardanelles and Sea of Marmora, touching at Gallipoli and other points, for Constantinople.
My souvenirs of this renowned capital of the Sultan are now revived. The visit to the Seraglio and palaces, the church of St. Sophia, the mosques of Sultan Mahmoud and others, and the tombs of the distinguished monarchs, is made by means of a firman. The visits to the bazaars, excursions on the Bosphorus, and to Scutari on the Asiatic shore, and the sweet waters of Europe and Asia, are delightful beyond description. And as I gazed from my windows from the lofty Frank quarters of Pera down upon the Golden Horn, separating old Stamboul from Galata; the Bosphorus, dividing the two continents; the lofty minarets of the white mosques; the deep evergreen cypress of the cemeteries, in contrast with the blooming trees of the Seraglio Point gardens; the forest of masts of all nations; the numerous war and commercial steamers, I am led to exclaim, “This is certainly the most magnificent view of the kind which the eye can behold.”
Rio Janeiro for its majestic scenery can only surpass it. The Bay of Naples has its peculiar beauties. The harbor of New York we all admit is lovely. Stockholm, situated upon its seven islands, is entitled to consideration. San Francisco can boast of a noble sheet of water, as well as many other countries, but the palm must be awarded to the position of the Turk.
The allied armies have fought, bled, and expended great treasure, but one discovers few changes for the better. The improvements are in the European quarter chiefly. The sick man may linger along for an indefinite period, but it is doubtful if he can be resuscitated.
We are in the midst of the Ramadan, or fast of the Mussulmans. The faithful partake of neither meat nor drink from sunrise to sunset, during forty days, and consequently cannot be very good-humored. Joyous voices may be heard at the evening meal if one dares thread the narrow, ill paved streets, lantern in hand, and prepared to resist the multitudes of half starved dogs without masters, who are the public scavengers, and breed, live, and die in the streets.
The minarets are now illuminated, and present a pretty appearance on a dark night. During the war the mosques were easily entered, now greater rigor is exercised, and the devout follower of Mahomet who makes his five ablutions daily, washing his hands, face, and feet, at the fountains in front of the mosques, and fasts from morn till night, cannot look with favor upon the Christians eating and drinking, and treading the sacred precincts of his Holy Temple, and defiling it with their unwashed feet.
They look with surprise and astonishment at the wars of the sects in Jerusalem, at the threshold of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and the Turkish soldiery preserving order at the point of the bayonet. Fortunately for the reputation of Christianity the late ceremonies of the Holy Week passed off without scandal in the sacred city.
The Greeks, notwithstanding the efforts of consuls to suppress rejoicings after Lent is over, have had their fireworks, discharges of cannon, &c., with loss of limbs, much to the annoyance of the Turks. The Latins have their rejoicings, and illuminate as in Rome, and the faithful will have feastings and a jubilee when the season of Ramadan comes around, and the penalties of the Koran are complied with.
We have here three Sabbaths: on Friday the Turkish bazaars are closed; on Saturday the Jews keep their Sabbath; and Sunday all the Christian races keep theirs, at least a part of the day. Those who wish to make purchases should select the early part of the week.
Steam has here made its innovation. We formerly had only the small egg-shell caique for the waters about the metropolis; now steamers for ferries and excursions are employed, and packed full. A bridge of boats connects old Stamboul with Galata, across the Golden Horn. Many more carriages are employed, richly gilded with gold. The ladies of the harem are seen more frequently riding out; and the white gauze veils, disclosing only the eyes and nose, seem to be lighter in texture than formerly, showing more of the beautiful features of the Georgian and Circassian beauties.
The currency of the country is unsettled; little but paper and copper is seen; consequently speculation has increased, and the people complain of increased charges making Constantinople one of the most expensive cities in Europe.