A Trip to the Orient: The Story of a Mediterranean Cruise

by Robert Urie Jacob

We paused to admire the four green marble columns taken from the Temple of Diana, and the polished shafts brought from the Temple of the Sun, relics of those two magnificent cities, Ephesus and Baalbek, of whose grandeur nothing now remains but broken stones. We gazed upward at the eight immense green shields covered with Arabic characters, high above our heads on the walls. But we doubted the miraculous healing power of a small hole that is always damp in a bronze-covered pillar, and hesitated also to accept the tradition that the apparent imprint of a bloody hand in the marble wall was made by the Sultan Muhammed II when he rode into St. Sophia after the capture of the city.

"On Fridays," said the guide, as we stood at the foot of the marble steps that led to the elevated pulpit, "the priest, clad in a long red robe, reads a prayer for the Sultan, and, while doing so, holds in one hand the Koran and in the other a drawn sword to indicate that this temple was captured from the Christians by force."

"That prayer rug," he continued pointing to a beautiful carpet hanging on the wall near by, "was the personal prayer rug of the great conqueror Muhammed II. There is so much more to be seen," he added, "that we could spend the whole day here, but the dragoman is beckoning and we must go on."

We shook the slippers from our feet in the porch and were driven through narrow streets to the Grand Bazaar.

"The Grand Bazaar," said the guide, "covers several acres. It has one hundred entrances. There are twelve hundred narrow streets or passages under roof within the bazaar and on these streets are four thousand little shops."

The Grand Bazaar, we decided, was the enormous department store of Stamboul; but we noticed that each little shop had its own proprietor. To many of the visitors, this Bazaar was the most interesting place in Constantinople; for here were found the most tempting bargains in Oriental wares, in its narrow passages were seen the native people in their most picturesque costumes, and in its maze of dimly lighted corridors some tourists were lost for awhile and met with novel adventures.

The store of Far-Away-Moses was one of the largest and most popular of the shops in the Bazaar and that genial trader did a thriving business. There seemed to be a magnetic power that drew the guides in the direction of certain shops, an unseen influence that urged them to recommend certain places, and one of these places was Moses' emporium. Some of the ladies found that when they slipped away and entered a shop without a guide a better bargain could be secured.

The price named for articles in the bazaar shops by the fezzed or turbaned dealers was generally three times the price that they would accept before losing a sale; but much tact was required on the part of the purchaser, and much valuable time was occupied in the diplomatic struggles between the acute Yankees and clever Moslems. When, however, the battle was won and the desired article secured at one-half or one-third the price at first demanded, the joy of the purchaser was doubled. The person, who, after an hour's dickering, bought a bronze ornament for twenty piasters, or one dollar of American money, was just as happy over the bargain as the one who succeeded in purchasing a magnificent silk rug for twenty thousand piasters. The money drawers of the Moslem traders were swollen with their contents but their shelves were less crowded when the Americans left the bazaar.

When we returned to the vessel we found that during our absence the decks had been converted into a rival bazaar. The tourists who had failed to obtain souvenirs had another opportunity to buy them; for here were displayed silk rugs ranging in price from three thousand piasters downward, exquisite embroideries, rare silks, delicate fans, gold-laced shawls, fragrant attar of roses, and a multitude of articles in bronze, silver, and gold.

"How restful it is to recline lazily in our comfortable steamer chairs rolled up in a rug, dreaming or talking over the events of the day, without any cares or worries to disturb our thoughts," remarked one of our friends as we sat upon the deck in the later evening hours watching the glimmering lights on the shore.