A FEW DAYS IN BROUSSA—THE TRUE ISLAM ATMOSPHERE
The Governor who, once more, “comes from Malta,” has detailed a police officer to look after me during the five-days’ visit unexpectedly imposed upon us, since there is no boat leaving before then. My journey from Angora to Constantinople will, therefore, occupy ten days instead of the regulation two or three.
We start out the first thing in the morning and do not return till dusk. I have never visited so many mosques, and their colouring seems even more exquisite than I have found it elsewhere.
Naturally, however, we first went to pay our respects to the Governor, who promised to give me certain special information next day. His konak, however, happened to catch fire soon after we left, and in less than an hour it was reduced to cinders. There was, fortunately, little wind, though, as we watched the flames from our hotel, one could feel no security that it might not spread all over the town and render us, too, homeless.
It was, as it happens, a brigand, descending by chance from the mountains, who had saved the whole town from destruction when the Greeks left it in flames, after demolishing their church and setting fire to their houses. Fifteen surrounding villages were, actually, burnt to the ground. The French proprietress of the hotel told me the town was not ravaged by Ottoman Greeks, but by the Hellenes. Their own Greeks cried bitterly at being compelled to leave, but were terrified into flight, many of them dying at Moudania or on the road.
I heard an amusing story from my Dutch friend in Smyrna which illustrates in what “great respect” the Turkish army has always been held by Greeks. One of their officers, reconnoitring on the hillside, was seen to run back to his men, shouting: “They are coming! They are coming! There are fezes everywhere!” He had caught sight of a field of poppies!
Madame herself is “desolated” by the departure of her Greek servants, and puts no real reliance on the Jews by whom she has been obliged to replace them. Although getting on in years, she is eighty-six, she never dare go to bed before any of her guests, lest someone should ring and obtain no answer. I enjoyed examining, in her visiting book, the signatures and humorous comments of English prisoners, who were with her during hostilities.
Everywhere the Jews are stirring themselves, in and out of their quarters, eager to take on anything abandoned by the Greeks, as shoemakers, plumbers, tradesmen, and labourers of all kinds. Nowhere else, I imagine, could one hear them boasting “I am an Israelite.” Our guests include many Jews, and they are quickly finding their way more than ever into the good graces of the Turks.
I hope they will soon organise the splendid “bathing” one could enjoy at Broussa if only some comfortable rest-place were set up for recovery from the bracing effects of such strong waters. Surely the Baths of Broussa might be promoted into a gold mine!
I wonder if the town is really as old as Angora? In parts it is more dilapidated, as one can see from walking about its deserted streets, so sorely in need of repair, and glancing up at the broken windows on every side. Nevertheless I, personally, delight in the delicate charm of this famous Asiatic city, free from a “Levantine” population and the relics of Byzantium that rather spoil Constantinople.