The rich valley through which this river winds its way, was formerly filled with many famous cities, and some distinguished for that luxury and effeminacy which a balmy climate and a fertile soil are apt to generate. Tralles and Alabanda sent from hence their swarms of “esurient Greeks,” with their cargoes of figs and prunes, to taint the Roman citizens, already sufficiently corrupt. Notwithstanding the desolation which Turkish indolence and barbarism brought into these fertile regions, the active spirit of the ancient Greeks still seems to animate their oppressed descendants. The whole plain is seen by the traveller in the highest state of cultivation: corn, wine, and oil, the evidence and emblem of fatness and fertility, are now abundant here, as in the days of the free Greek cities,−pastures covered with sheep and oxen, fields waving with golden crops of wheat, vineyards bending under vast clusters of grape, and gardens shaded by the broad foliage of the fig, are still the prospects which present themselves.
In the midst of this abundance is situated the town of Guzel-Hissar, appropriately called “the Castle of Beauty,” which its name imports. It lies on a small stream, about ten miles from the Meander, and on an eminence which commands a prospect of the lovely vale through which the river winds its way. Our illustration presents a view of it, with Mount Thorax rising behind it, and the ridges of the Messogeis before it−the wooded plain of the Meander lying between, and spread out under the city. Both seem to partake of the same quality of rank vegetation. Among minarets, and domes, and houses, rise cypress, terebinth, and oriental platanus, so that the whole is a forest of mingled spires and trees; among these, myriads of turtle-doves take up their abode, and they and their progeny, in surprising numbers, covering the branches and roofs, fill the air all day long with their incessant and plaintive cooing. The town is the residence of a pasha, but its edifices have little to boast of; they are mean and ragged, and travellers complain of the caravansaries, as being more comfortless and destitute than even Turkish khans. The inhabitants feel the effects of a rank and exuberant vegetation. During the sultry months, a mal-aria is generated, highly pestilential. The plague sometimes rages with mortal malignity; and the traveller, shut up in a small and naked room of a filthy house, panting with heat and devoured with insects, rather endures any thing within, than walk abroad, and encounter the ghastly and infected objects that stalk along, and carry contagion with them through the streets.
| T. Allom. | Thos Turnbull. |
GREEK CHURCH OF BALOUKLI, NEAR CONSTANTINOPLE.
ATTACHED TO THE SPRING OF THE MIRACULOUS FISHES.
There is no superstition so strong in the Greek church as the efficiency ascribed to fountains, and there are no objects of veneration to which they are more fondly attached. Like their pagan ancestors, they consecrate a well to some presiding being, and ascribe to it corresponding virtues. The efficacy, however, is not of the same character. A modern Greek recognizes no Hippocrene, whose draughts inspire him with poetry; but he has innumerable sources of salutary waters, which, by some supernatural power coupled to it by its patron, heals diseases; and around Constantinople are many wells dedicated to different saints, which retain all the virtues of the pool of Bethesda.
Beyond the walls of the city, about half-a-mile from the Selyvria gate, approaching to the sea of Marmora, is one of the most celebrated of these fountains, which, from the earliest period of its dedication to Christianity, has been held in the highest veneration. The tradition of a miracle wrought by its waters in restoring sight to a blind man, attracted the attention of the Greek emperors, and it afterwards became the object of their peculiar care. Leo the Great, in the year 460, first erected a church over it. The emperor Justinian was returning one day from hunting, and perceived a great crowd surrounding it. He inquired into the cause, and learned that a miracle of healing had just been wrought by the waters; so, when he had finished his gorgeous temple to “the Eternal Wisdom of God,” he applied the surplus of his rich materials to adorning this church. It stood for two centuries, an object of wonder and veneration, till it was shattered by an earthquake, when it was finally rebuilt by the empress Irené with more splendour than ever. Such was the sanctity and esteem in which it was held, that imperial marriages were celebrated in it, in preference to Santa Sophia, or other edifices in the city. When Simeon the Bulgarian defeated the Greeks under the walls of the city, he married his son Peter to Maria, the daughter of the emperor Lacapenus, here; and again, the nuptials of the daughter of Cantacuzene with the son of Andronicus Palæologus were celebrated in it with great pomp.