The face of the mountain, ascending from the city, presents the remains of very extensive fortifications, once occupied by soldiers of various nations, but at present in a state of entire dilapidation. Its cannon were removed to Smyrna, and now protect its ancient ally. A more modern edifice, surrounded by well-timbered woods, attracts more attention. This is the residence of the present Ayan, or proprietor of the soil, whose family has been long distinguished in this region. When the Osmanli made their first inroads on Christian possessions, they secured them, by establishing, as they advanced, a feudal system. They left the acquired territory under some military chief, who portioned it out among his Moslem followers, on the terms of military service when called upon. These were named Deré beys, or “Lords of the valleys;” and the rich plains of Asia Minor were divided among them. They were classed as Zaims or Timariots, according to the number of spahis or cavalry they were bound to supply; and were the only hereditary nobility in the Turkish empire−few in numbers, but the petty and brutal tyrants of their respective territories. To these, however, was one distinguished exception: the family of Cara Osman Oglou preserved a high character for many generations, and every traveller who visited Magnesia spoke of them as liberal and enlightened benefactors of the territory over which they presided. This nobility is now extinguished; the energetic Mahomet, in his reforms, reduced this small but tyrannic oligarchy to the general level, and united, and confined to his own person, the whole nobility of the empire. The last descendant of the Oglous was invited to the capital, where he now employs his time and revenues in mechanical pursuits. He is a cunning shipwright, and has built a man-of-war, to serve in the Turkish fleet.
The present population of the city is estimated at somewhat more than 30,000, of which 20,000 are Turks, and the remainder Jews and Christians. The former have twenty mosques, whose bristling minarets are seen in our illustration. There are three Greek and Armenian churches, and two synagogues. In the foreground is represented one of those Oriental wells, which from the earliest ages were “digged” in the East, and which now form a conspicuous object in every landscape. A long horizontal beam of wood is divided into two unequal lengths, and supported and turned on a perpendicular. On the short arm is placed a weight which counterpoises the longer and the bucket and cord attached, when it descends into the well, and is very easily raised by means of this lever. One of these machines is seen erected in every garden, and, as irrigation is constantly required in an arid soil, it is always in motion, and its dull and drowsy creaking is the sound incessantly heard by all travellers.
| T. Allom. | J. B. Allen. |
INNER COURT OF THE MOSQUE OF SULTAN OSMAN.
Mahomet III. was distinguished by vice and imbecility; but his reign was embellished by learned and upright men. Risman Ben Ac Hissar wrote a treatise on government for the use of his master, which, notwithstanding the excellent precepts contained in it, seems to have but little improved his weak and vicious sovereign. The treatise has come down to us, with many sage maxims. One was−“that it is the duty of a prince to govern with equity, for his own interest is concerned in it: justice is the support of the throne, and Allah requires that those persons only should be entrusted with power and dignity, who show themselves worthy of exercising them.” Another, more shrewd, declares that “a thousand friends are too few, and one enemy too many;” but the only injunction that seems to have had any weight with the heedless monarch was, that “he should not only honour and respect the Ulemah (men of the law,) but promote all his undertakings by securing the aid of their prayers, for they have the inheritance of the gifts of the Prophet.” Influenced by this advice, he determined on building a mosque, and adding another imperial Djami to the capital: in order to make it more splendid than that of any of his predecessors, he sent architects to collect the models of the Christian cathedrals in Europe, that his mosque might be constructed from the perfections of them all. This heterodox intention, however, was opposed by the Ulemah, who denounced it as a desecration of a temple dedicated to the Prophet; and while he hesitated in his architectural plans, and before he had matured the whole design, death overtook him, and he left his mosque unfinished.
It was reserved for Osman, or Ottoman, to complete it. His vizir died immensely rich, and, by the maxims of the Turkish empire, his wealth reverted to the sovereign. “The Sultan,” says the law, “never loses his inheritance to wealth, for, cast it upon the ocean, and let it sink to the bottom, it wall again rise to the surface, and become visible.” Enabled, it should appear, by this accession of means, he set about completing the unfinished mosque of his predecessor. This he effected, though his pious work did not propitiate Allah to alter his decrees with respect to his own fate; it was very miserable. He was seized by Daud, his rebellious vizir, and sent a prisoner to the Seven Towers; here, at the age of nineteen, in the prime of life, vigour of youth, and bloom of beauty, he was strangled, his features mutilated, and one of his ears cut off, and sent as a grateful present to his successor.