The Patriarch was seated on his throne, dressed in a vestment of white satin, clasped on the breast with an immense diamond ornament, over which was flung a scarf of gold tissue; the borders of the robe were wrought to about a foot in depth with portraits of the saints in needlework of different colours, interspersed with gold and silver threads. His crown of crimson velvet was entirely covered with immense pearls, fashioned into different figures; the intermediate spaces being occupied by rubies, emeralds, and brilliants, of great beauty and lustre. He held his staff in one hand, and in the other the Gospel, bound in white satin, and studded with jewels; and, at every movement that he made, the tapers by which he was surrounded flashed back the radiance of his elaborately-gemmed habit in a coruscation perfectly dazzling.
Beside him, and on a level with the throne, sat Logotheti, in an uniform richly embroidered with silver; my father was beside him; and at the foot of his chair stood Vogorede; while immediately in front of the throne, in a line with the pulpit, four of the Russian Secretaries occupied a crimson-cushioned seat, whence they had a full view of the Sanctuary.
Among the numerous causes, all working towards the same centre of Russian supremacy in Turkey, one of the most dangerous for the Moslem is the community of religion between the Russian and the Greek. The Autocrat has built a church for the Greeks in the vicinity of Constantinople, and the arms of Russia surmount the portal! The attachés of the Russian Embassy, while the members of all the other Legations are either sleeping or feasting, are meekly kneeling before the throne of the Greek Patriarch, and humbly kissing the hand which extended to them!
The act in itself is simple. It is the effect that it produces on the minds of the mass which is to be dreaded. The expression of delighted admiration on the countenances of the crowd was a perfect study, as, following in the wake of Logotheti and Vogoride, ere less important persons had an opportunity of doing homage to the Patriarch, the all-powerful agents of all-powerful Russia bent a willing knee to kiss the sacred hand. A common interest was created at once, and no tie is so sure as that of religious faith. The Greeks already writhe in their fetters—the bondmen loathe their task-masters—the tree is cankered at the core, and hollowed in the trunk: let Russia apply the axe, and it will fall.
The Moslem, be he lured to ruin as smilingly as he may, and flattered into security as blandly as the criminal of his country, who finds the rope about his neck ere he knows that he is condemned; is the coveted prey of his semi-barbarous ally. The force of the Russian, and the guile of the Greek—external power and internal treachery—are at work against him; and what has he to oppose to these? High-sounding titles, and pompous phrases—a young and half-trained soldiery—a navy, unequal to the management of their magnificent shipping—and a Capital, protected by men, many of whom wear a Russian medal at their breast—a medal bestowed on them by the munificent Emperor of another nation, for having done their duty (according to Muscovite notions) towards their own!
But let Turkey be supported for awhile, as her own efforts merit that she should be; let her find the ready help from European powers, in which she so fondly trusted—and she will, ere long, prove herself worthy to take her place among the nations. Her military and naval forces require only time; her soldiers have already given evidence of their courage, and, having so done when comparatively undisciplined, will naturally develop still higher attributes when acting as a well-organized body; in which each individual receives, as well as gives, support. Let the Russian medal be trampled in the dust of the city streets—and this will demand no effort on the part of those who wear it, into whose breasts it burns, and who consider it rather as a brand of disgrace, than as a creditable badge—and it will then require no spirit of prophecy to foretell the future prosperity of Turkey. To the East, Europe is indebted for her knowledge of military tactics and military subordination, and she can well afford to pay back the debt. Half a dozen experienced officers would, in a few months, change the whole appearance and nature of the Turkish army.
Homage had been paid to the Patriarch, and the chanting became more animated, as, followed by a train of Archbishops and Bishops, he retired to the sanctuary, and added to his already costly habiliments several other jewelled and embroidered draperies. He next received the sacrament, at which period of the ceremony every man, woman, and child, within the church hastened to light the taper that they had brought for the purpose, (the symbol of the Resurrection) which produced a sudden burst of light absolutely thrilling. As I looked down upon the struggling and stifling crowd beneath me, so closely wedged together that it was with difficulty they could raise the arm holding the taper, which each lit by that of his neighbour, the scene was most extraordinary. A dense vapour was even then rapidly spreading its heavy folds over the whole edifice, and, in a few moments, I could distinguish nothing but a sea of heads, and a multitude of pigmy lights, feebly struggling through the thick smoke.
The fiery and impetuous Greeks, enthusiastic in all their feelings—in religion, in love, in hate, and in ambition—did not, in the present instance, confine themselves so scrupulously as an European congregation would have done, to the space assigned to them—half a dozen wild, bandit-looking individuals clambered into the pulpit—a score more clung to the steps—those who chanced to be nearest to the vacated stalls of the Bishops appropriated them without ceremony—others hung by the pillars which supported the gallery—and thus sufficient space was with difficulty ensured by the panting beadles for the passage of the procession.
At this moment, I followed my friend from the church, and, four or five sturdy servants having with considerable effort forced a way for us to the Patriarch’s Palace, we hastened to take possession of his private sitting-room, which, as it overlooked the enclosure in which the church was situated, and where the procession was to halt, he had politely offered, in order to secure the gratification of my curiosity.
The night was one of beauty. The pale moon was riding high among masses of fleecy clouds, which were pillowed upon the deep blue of the sky, forming towers, and palaces, and islets, so changeful and fleeting, that they looked like the ephemeral creations of fairy-land. A lofty and leafy plane tree, whose foliage had newly burst beneath the soft influence of spring, was sighing gently in the midnight wind; and the long dark outline of the monastic buildings, and the slanting roof of the church, loomed out in the faint moonlight, with a mysterious depth of shadow well suited to the solemnity of the hour. The wide doors of the sacred edifice suddenly fell back—the low chant of the choir swelled upon the night air—and forth rushed the eager crowd that had so lately thronged the church; each with his lighted taper in his hand, and pressing forward to a raised platform in the centre of the enclosure, railed in for the convenience of the Patriarch and his train of dignitaries.