Mr. Adair[5] and Canning[6] have been very polite, and I have dined frequently at the Palace, and although this is not the sort of society I very much covet, I find it so extremely useful that I cannot be too careful to keep up my acquaintance there. Mr. Canning, of whose kindness on all occasions I cannot speak too highly, has obliged me exceedingly in lending me a large collection of fairly faithful drawings of the interiors of mosques, some of them never drawn before, as well as other curious buildings here, made by a Greek of this place. In copying them I have been closely employed, as when Mr. Adair leaves, which will be shortly, they will be sent off to England. I had a scheme of drawing from windows, but it has failed. I find no Jew or Christian who is bold enough to admit me into his house for that purpose, so I have to work from memory. After having made a memorandum, I develop it at home, and then return again and again to make more notes, till at length the drawing gets finished. In arriving here just in time to take advantage of Mr. Adair's firman to see the mosques I was most fortunate. It is a favour granted to ambassadors only once, and Mr. Adair thinks himself lucky to get it before going away; but I will tell you in confidence that I regret very little the impossibility of drawing in them. They seem to me to be ill-built and barbarous.
Lord Byron and Mr. Hobhouse[7] were of the party."
The Djerid, a mimic fight with javelins on horseback, now, I believe, entirely disused in Turkey, was still the favourite pastime of young Turks, and Cockerell speaks of it as being constantly played on the high open ground or park above Pera, and of his going to watch it.
"One day I was persuaded by an English traveller of my acquaintance to go a walk through Constantinople without our usual protection of a janissary, but the adventures which befell us in consequence made me very much repent of it, and put me a good deal out of conceit with the Turks. We walked to the gate of the Seraglio, in front of which there is a piazza with a very beautiful fountain in it. This lovely object was so attractive that I could not resist going up to it and examining the marble sculpture, painting, and gilding. Hereupon an old Turk who guarded the gate of the Seraglio, offended, I suppose, at my presuming to come so near, strode up with a long knotted stick and a volley of language which I could not understand, but which it was easy to see the drift of. I should have been glad to run away, but in the presence of Turks and other bystanders I resolved to fall a martyr rather than compromise my nation. So, waving my hand in token of assent to his desire for my withdrawal, I slowly paced my way back with as much dignity as I could assume. I heard my Turk behind coming on faster and more noisy, and I shall never forget the screwing up of the sinews of my back for the expected blow. It did not fall, or there would have ended my travels; for, either astonished at my coolness or satisfied with my assent, he desisted.
A little further on, in passing through the court of a mosque, I was gazing at some of the architectural enrichments of it, when I felt a violent blow on the neck. I looked down, and there was a sturdy little figure, with a face full of fury, preparing to repeat the dose. He was of such indescribably droll proportions that in spite of the annoyance I could hardly help laughing. I held out my hand to stop him, and at the same time some Turks luckily came up and appeased my assailant. He was an idiot, one of those to whom it is the custom among the Turks to give their liberty, and who are generally, it appears, to be found hanging about the mosques.
One more unpleasantness occurred in the same unfortunate walk. As we were looking at some carpets, I observed my servant Dimitri growing pale; he said he was so weak he could hardly stand, and he thought he must have caught the plague. I supported him out of the bazaar, but afterwards kept him at arm's length till we got home, sent him to bed, changed from top to toe, and smoked. I was to have dined at the Palace, but sent and made my excuses. Meeting the English consul, good old Morier, I refused to shake hands with him. He, however, would have none of it, laughed at me and carried me home to dinner quietly with him. Dimitri reappeared later on, and all was well; but the day is memorable as having been odious."
The usual sights of Constantinople in 1810 were the same as now—viz. the dancing dervishes, the howling dervishes, the Turkish bath, and the Sultan's visit to the Mosque. They are what every traveller has seen and every young one thought it his duty to give an account of, and I shall not transcribe Cockerell's description of them. Only the last can have been at all different from what may be seen now. It was remarkable for the startling costumes of the janissaries, and for the fact that instead of a fez, the universal and mean headdress of to-day, every Turk wore a turban, which made a crowd worth seeing. The janissaries wore a singular cap, from the centre of which sprang a tree of feathers which, rising to a certain height, fell again like a weeping willow and occupied an enormous space. On these occasions about fifty of them surrounded the Sultan with wands in their hands, and no doubt had a very striking effect.
"I have made several useful friends. One is a brother artist, the Greek who did the mosques for Canning. We have paid each other several visits, and become fairly intimate by dint of dragoman, mutual admiration, and what was a superb present from me, a little Indian ink and two English pencils. He has been specially attentive in his visits here, hoping, as he confessed, to find out some secret in the art from such a connoisseur as myself. Another is an old gentleman in a long grey beard, who a few days ago walked into my room, telling me he had been induced to call upon me by hearing of my great reputation. He is an artist, and I showed him my colours and instruments, with which he was greatly delighted. I have not yet returned his visit, but I am shortly to do so, and he is to introduce me to some houses out of which I can draw. I have found a most elegant and useful friend in the Sicilian ambassador, who has many beautiful books and drawings. The young men I chiefly live with are Sir William Ingilby; Foster, an English architect, and a most amusing youth; and a Mr. Charnaud, son of a consul at Salonica. We meet at dinner very often, but they are all, even architect Foster, too idle to be companions any further than that. If I chose I could make numbers of acquaintance among the Greeks and Armenians, who all speak French. Their ladies are very agreeable, but the information I should glean amongst them would not pay for the time.
Canning is very much liked here among the merchants, though they say they will never get such another man as Adair. For me he is rather too grand to be agreeable.
This is a most interesting time among the Turks. All is bustle and the sound of arms in every street. The Grand Signor is going to the Russian war next week. His procession will, of course, be a grand sight, but they despond throughout. The Turks have a prophecy that the empire will expire with the last of the line of Mahomet, and the present Sultan has no children.