The Turk and his lost provinces

by William Eleroy Curtis

The animals have a high degree of intelligence. They know their rights and insist upon them, and the manner in which each cur holds and defends his own territory is remarkable. The occupants of the same street never quarrel with each other, no matter how numerous or how hungry they may be, but lie curled up in bunches on the street corners in a most affectionate manner. But let a strange animal appear in sight and every one is on the alert instantly. There is a scurrying of feet, a series of low growls, a rush towards the intruder and then a tumult of barking and yelping and shrieks of agony from the injured. It may end in a dogicide. It usually does. The intruder is not often allowed to escape alive and his mangled body will be found afterwards in the roadway.

Abdul Azziz, predecessor of the present Sultan, was a great reformer and, among other reforms, proposed to exterminate the dogs. Policemen were sent around with poisoned meat, which was scattered freely throughout the city, and the next day the streets were blocked by dead dogs, which were not removed, but their bodies were allowed to lie and fester in the sun. Instead of attributing the epidemic to the unquestionable cause, the superstitious Turks construed it as the penalty pronounced upon them by the prophet for the massacre of the innocent. Since then no further attempts have been made to exterminate the curs, which have been held more sacred than ever. There is a story to account for the presence of the dogs in Constantinople. It is said that in the Middle Ages their barking awoke the garrison of the city and warned it of the approach of an enemy, so that it was able to make a successful defense. At that time, the legend goes, the reigning Sultan issued an order requiring all dogs to be held sacred, as the prophet had made them the vehicle of the Divine will.

FIRE BRIGADE, CONSTANTINOPLE

Sometimes I think the firemen are more interesting than the dogs. Fires are of frequent occurrence, and often very destructive, because the greater part of the old city is composed of wooden dwellings, which are very dry and burn like tinder when a flame is once started. Great precautions, from the Turkish point of view, are taken to protect them, but they are only ludicrous to those who are familiar with modern fire departments in our cities. Watchmen keep a lookout day and night from three commanding spots which overlook the roofs of the entire city—the Galata tower in the foreign section, the Serasker tower in Stamboul, the Mohammedan city, and another tower upon a high hill on the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus. Cannon are fired from the last-mentioned place as a warning to the public and a notice to the firemen, but at the other towers large balls made of bamboo and painted a brilliant red are hung out in the daytime, and a red balloon at night with a number of flags of different designs, like signals from a ship, which indicate to the firemen the section of the city in which their services are needed.

Upon these towers watchmen with telescopes are always on guard, walking around the balcony and carefully inspecting every roof within the limits of their vision. When a suspicious sign is discovered there is a consultation, and, if it appears to be a fire, half-naked runners are started to give an alarm through the streets and the signals are hung out. The runners yell at the top of their voices the locality where the fire has been discovered. The firemen, who are in waiting at their various headquarters, strip themselves to a shirt and a pair of drawers, seize hand engines, which are carried upon their shoulders, and start at full tilt for the point of danger. They are spurred to a high rate of speed because of rivalry between the different organizations. The first to arrive is apt to get the job of extinguishing the conflagration, but as they receive no pay from the government, the owner of the house must bargain with them and make the best terms possible before they will do anything to save his house. Usually the neighbors, whose property is also in danger, are required to contribute baksheesh before the pumping begins.

The engine is a small affair, which can easily be carried upon the shoulders of four men running at a high rate of speed. Others carry the hose, while the nozzle is handled like the baton of a drum-major by the captain of the company, who leads the group of runners through the streets crying “Yangin var!” in brazen tones. A company on its way to a fire is a novel sight, and everybody rushes out to join in the excitement. When the scene is reached the confusion is even greater. Men, women and children plunge into the burning building to seize and save or steal whatever can be reached. The police usually stand by and watch the spectacle with admirable composure. They never think of interfering, because their religion teaches them that misfortunes of all kinds are penalties imposed by the prophet to punish sins, and hence the houses of none but wicked people ever catch fire.

Pigeons are sacred in Constantinople. No true Moslem will kill a pigeon, and in certain parts of the city they are found by the millions. One of the most sacred temples is called the Pigeon Mosque, because of the number of birds that live there. They are so numerous that the air is often dark with them. Rich people leave legacies to pay for their food. At all of the mosques peddlers are found who sell corn for the faithful to offer to the birds, and it is regarded as a religious sacrifice. The superstition against killing pigeons is based upon the belief that the Holy Ghost inhabits the body of a pigeon, and none can be put to death without a fear of sacrificing the right one. The pigeons at the Bayezidiyeh, or Pigeon Mosque, which was built in 1497 by Sultan Bayezid, are said to be the offspring of a pair bought by him from a poor woman in the market near by and presented to the priests of the mosque. These pigeons are under the special protection of several priests, who feed them regularly, and every Friday at eight o’clock in the morning distribute food to the dogs that live in that quarter. The scene is very noisy and exciting. The dogs know the dates and appear promptly upon the appointed morning every week, but woe to the stranger cur that attempts to sneak in for a share. He is disposed of without mercy, for the legitimate tenants of the district know each other as accurately as if each had been furnished with a copy of a census. This food is distributed in obedience to a legacy left by a Turkish tailor, who died sixty or seventy years ago with a provision in his will for feeding the dogs on Friday, which is the Mohammedan Sabbath. Beggars, hungry, ragged and diseased, often appear when the dogs are fed and try to snatch morsels of meat from them if possible, but it takes a great deal of courage to do so. The uproar is tremendous. For half a mile around the barking and yelping can be heard, but the inhabitants of the neighborhood are accustomed to it.

At the mosque of St. Andrew, Constantinople, which is in charge of the dervishes, hangs an iron chain which is said to have the power of detecting deceit and dishonesty, and believers who are accused of theft or falsehood often demand the right to be tried by that test, which is usually accorded them. If they are guilty it is indicated by the vibration of the iron. If they are innocent the chain remains at rest. A curious story is told of a Jewish debtor who falsely claimed to have paid his obligations and demanded to be tried by the chain. Before taking his station he asked his creditor to hold his cane, and handed him a hollow staff, in which was concealed the exact amount of money that he owed him. The chain, recognizing that the money had been passed, declared him innocent—which showed that it is influenced by technicalities like many other courts.

There are in Constantinople one hundred and eighty khans—immense stone barracks of two stories covering entire blocks and inclosing square courts which are usually ornamented with trees and fountains. These khans are all very ancient, the oldest having been erected in the time of Constantine and still being used. They are intended for the entertainment and accommodation of traveling merchants, who are provided by the government with lodging and sample-rooms in which to display their wares. Each khan is in charge of a steward, who is the master of everything under its roof, the representative of the Sultan and the government, and the superintendent of a gang of workmen who are employed about the place. A merchant from Persia, Russia, Turkestan or any other part of the earth, having goods for sale, may apply to the steward, and, if an apartment is vacant, is furnished with one or more rooms in which he can sleep and live and receive his customers for a certain length of time without paying rent. If there is no demand for quarters he may retain the rooms indefinitely. Attached to each khan are restaurants and eating-houses at which the occupants may live, but many of them prefer to cook their own meals. Some bring servants with them. The khans are the scenes of constant bustle, dealers in all kinds of merchandise continually passing in and out, and although most of them are dark, damp and uncomfortable, they have contributed a great deal to the commercial importance and activity of the city. Men from the country who are in the habit of trading in Constantinople always go to the same khan, where they are known and expected, just as we have our favorite hotels in the cities we are accustomed to visit. But the khans are open to all merchants, of whatever quality, condition, country or religion.