The views from the different avenues leading through the cemetery, are very beautiful, particularly the higher part, in so much so, that it has become the great promenade of the Franks, who here assemble every evening, to enjoy the air and prospect; and by a singular anomaly, the cypress shades are converted into myrtle bowers, and gay groups of laughing Franks desecrate the last resting-place of the solemn Turks. The dogs, however, avenge this insult to the Moslem graves; there is no place where these hateful animals give such annoyance. Crouched among the decaying bodies, and attracted, perhaps, by the foul odour, they rush furiously at the passing Frank who comes to disturb them. It seems a strange contradiction in the Turks, that these carnivorous animals should be permitted to burrow among the remains of the dead, which they are so anxious to preserve, as the Oriental dogs have been, from the earliest times, the last consummaters of human vengeance,−as they are now of human justice. The bodies of criminals are left weltering in the streets, with a view that the dogs may tear them. Their howl at night, issuing from the graves, adds much to the dismal solemnity of the field of tombs.
The illustration presents a view of a fine fountain. It was surmounted by a roof of correspondent beauty, but it fell a victim to the great fire that ravaged Pera in the year 1823, and destroyed all the European palaces, including the English. Near the fountain is a sacgee, or water-man, with his leathern vessel, and beside it are women in the common walking-dress of the country: this consists of a ferridgé and yasmac; the first is a wide misshapen garment, that totally conceals the form of the person; and the other is composed of two veils, drawn over the upper and lower parts of the face, and meeting at the ears, leaving open a small triangular space, through which the nose and eyes protrude. In the perspective is, the city of Constantinople, displaying its most conspicuous objects−the Mosque of Solimanie, and the Aqueduct of Valens. In the centre is the new bridge which the sultan has erected across the harbour.
| T. Allom. | T. Barber. |
GATE OF ENTRANCE TO THE RECEPTION ROOM OF THE SERAGLIO.
This magnificent palace occupies the apex of the triangle on which the city is built, including nearly the whole of ancient Byzantium. It was appropriated, under the Greek empire, as a college for the numerous priests of Santa Sophia, which is close beside it; but when Mahomet converted that edifice into a mosque, the convent was fixed on as the site of his own palace, and exceeds in beauty any other spot he could have chosen, even in his recent conquest. He added new buildings, and extended its area: his successors made further additions, and it now includes a space four miles in circumference; washed on one side by the sea of Marmora, and on the other by the Propontis, while the rapid current of the Bosphorus sweeps round its walls with a pure and limpid stream. It is filled with a gorgeous display of palaces, baths, mosques, kiosks, gardens, and cypress groves, laid out by the Greeks, and preserved by their Turkish successors. Here is also an armoury, containing the various weapons used by the crusaders in their attack on Constantinople; and the library of the Greek emperors, which was supposed formerly to contain all the classical literature of the ancient world, and many of the lost works of the classic writers,−but it has been explored by Franks, and whatever remains of classical literature were once there, have now disappeared.
The principal entrance of the Seraglio is on the summit of the hill. There is the large and lofty gate called Babu Humayun, which literally signifies, “the high door,” and from thence the diplomatic phrase adopted by the Franks, who call the Turkish government “the Sublime Porte,” because all political business is supposed to be here transacted. It was erected by Mahomet II. On each side are deep niches in the thickness of the wall, and here the heads of inferior delinquents are exposed. Within is a large area of an irregular shape, containing the Taraphanay, or mint, built on the site of the Greek church dedicated to St. Irené. In the centre is a low marble pillar, destined for the exposure of the heads of pashas, and offenders of rank in the Turkish empire. Here they are displayed upon a large dish for the inspection of the curious; while a Bostangee stands by with a rod, with which he points to each head, and enumerates the offences of the sufferers. On the wall beside is usually a paper called a yafta, containing the titles of the criminal and other particulars, all strongly reminding us of the permanency of Oriental usages. In the first court, though it is thronged with the officers of the palace, a strict silence prevails, and the breach of it is attended with corporal chastisement. Passing through this, you enter the second gate. Here sits the chief executioner with his assistants, and on the walls are suspended various implements of punishment. Foreign ambassadors, proceeding to an audience, were formerly delayed in this spot for a considerable time, as if to exhibit the superiority of the Osmanli, and proud contempt for the infidels, who were meet associates for the public executioner of the empire. Beyond this is a more spacious and secluded court, planted and laid out in walks. On one side is an extensive range of kitchens, each appropriated to the respective officers in the seraglio. On the other is the divan, where the grand council is held, the troops paid, law-suits decided, and where foreign ambassadors used formerly to be washed, fed, and clothed, before they were admitted to the presence of the Sultan. It is a small edifice containing two compartments, surmounted with domes. Inside are sofas round the walls, which are called divans, and hence the name of the building. Behind, projecting from the wall above, is a small lattice-work gallery, capable of containing one person, entirely concealed from view. This has been compared to the Ear of Dionysius, where the tyrant sits unseen, and hears the opinions of those below. He sometimes applies his eye to a small aperture, through which it is seen gleaming like that of a basilisk, fascinating and paralyzing the speaker on whom it lights.