Constantinople painted by Warwick Goble Part 7

Again, what a change has come over the style of building in the place.

The palaces of the Sultan are on European models.

The day has vanished, when to go up or down the Bosporus was to move through a scene in which the charms of nature were heightened by the fascinating primitiveness and fancifulness of the Orient. The large old-fashioned Turkish house, almost nothing but stories of windows, painted deep red, or left to a.s.sume the natural grey of the wood, with broad eaves under which small attic windows, filled with little diamond-shaped panes of gla.s.s nestled, have disappeared, or are fast falling into decay. Venetian shutters are replacing the latticed screens, which invested a Turkish home with so much mystery; conservatories have taken the room of the old green-houses of orange-trees and lemon-trees. And, worst of all, boats of European form are supplanting the caque, so light, so graceful, floating upon the water like a seabird, and making the Bosporus seem a stream in fairyland.

Nowhere, perhaps, is the mark of change more evident than in respect to the means of communication, whether in the city or on the straits. Long lines of tramways run from the Galata Bridge to the Golden Gate and the Gate of S. Roma.n.u.s, from one end of Stamboul to the other. Along the railway that forms the highway to Europe, there are five stations within the city limits for the accommodation of the districts beside the track.

The sedan chairs in which ladies were usually carried, in making calls, are now occasionally employed to convey them to and from evening parties. The groups of horses standing at convenient points in the great thoroughfares to carry you up a street of steps or to a distant quarter, with the surudji, switch in hand, running beside you to urge the animal onward and to take it back at the close of your ride, have given way to cabstands, and to a tunnel that pierces the hill of Galata. A tramway carries one through Galata and Pera as far out as the suburb of Chichli, while another line runs close to the sh.o.r.e from the Inner Bridge to Ortakeui. There are persons still living who remember the first steamer that plied on the Bosporus, in the forties of last century. Its main occupation was to tug ships up or down the straits; but once a day, in summer, it conveyed pa.s.sengers between the city and the villages of Therapia and Buyukdere. A second steamer soon followed, and charged eleven piasters for the trip each way. Owing, however, to the opposition of the caquedjis, the steamer could not moor at the quay, so that pa.s.sengers were obliged to embark and disembark at both ends of the journey in caques, at the rate of one piaster each way. Thus a return trip, which now costs one shilling and eight pence, involved an expense of four shillings and four pence.

[Ill.u.s.tration: STREET SCENE, TOP-KHANEH

Top-Khaneh is a continuation of Galata.]

No one, of course, undervalues the advantages of steam navigation, or suggests a return to sailing ships. At the same time it remains true, that never again will men see the Bosporus so beautiful as it looked in days when its waters were untroubled by steam. Owing to the prevalence of northerly winds in these regions, ships bound for the Black Sea were liable to long detention on their way up from the Mediterranean. Great fleets of merchantmen were accordingly apt to collect in the Dardanelles and in the Golden Horn, waiting for a favourable breeze. They had sometimes to wait six weeks ere they could stir. When at length the south wind did come, every st.i.tch of canvas the ships could carry was unfurled, and an immense procession of winged sea-coursers and chariots rode through the Bosporus day after day so long as the south wind blew.

In an hour, a hundred, two hundred, vessels might pa.s.s a given point, all panting to reach the open sea before the wind failed, and racing one another to get there first. Ships of all sizes and of every form, European and Oriental, sails and rigging of every style; huge three-masted merchantmen, "signiors and rich burghers on the flood,"

schooners, brigs, barges, caques, "petty traffickers," with their white wings stretched over the blue waters, from one green bank across to the other, flew before the wind, and formed a spectacle solemn and stately as a royal or religious ceremonial. It was a magnificent scene of colour, motion, and variety of form; of eagerness and achievement.

When we think of the means of communication with the outer world, the change is extraordinary. For the voyage from England to Constantinople a sailing vessel took usually thirty to sixty days. It might be even three months, as an Englishman still living in the city found, in 1845, in his own case. To-day one travels by rail to London in three and a half days. Letters from England took ten days. There was a weekly European mail _via_ Trieste, and three times a month _via_ Ma.r.s.eilles. Now, a European mail arrives daily. The postage on a letter was 1s. 4d. where now it is 2d. It is impossible to exaggerate the influence upon the life of the place due to this close connection by steamship and by rail with the Western world. The Ottoman authorities were not altogether mistaken, from their point of view, when they looked with disfavour upon the junction of the railroads in Turkey with the European railway system. That junction, it was thought, would facilitate the military invasion of the country. But ideas travel by rail, as well as soldiers.

And the invasion of a country by new ideas may have consequences as formidable and far-reaching as any that arms can introduce. The completion of the railroad between Constantinople and Vienna in 1888 may be regarded as the conquest of the city by foreign thought and enterprise. Little, perhaps, did the crowds, that gathered at the Stamboul railway station on the 14th of August in that year to witness the arrival of the first train from the Austrian capital, appreciate the significance of that event. But it was the annexation of Constantinople to the Western world. New ideas, new fashions now rule, for better and for worse. And soon the defects and the charms of the old Oriental city will be a dream of the past.

Owing to the narrowness and steepness of the streets of Constantinople, the transportation of heavy loads through the city by means of wheeled vehicles has always been a difficult, and often an impossible, undertaking. Much has been done in recent years to widen and grade the chief thoroughfares. The authorities are even accused of having occasionally secured that improvement, by setting fire to the houses along an old narrow but picturesque lane in order to take advantage of the law, that when a house is rebuilt the munic.i.p.ality has the right to appropriate a part of the old site to broaden the public way, without giving compensation to the owner of the ground. Moreover, during the Russo-Turkish War of 1876-77, the Moslem refugees from Bulgaria introduced the use of a rough four-wheeled cart drawn by one horse, and that conveyance is now extensively employed. The old-fashioned, long, narrow, wagon drawn by a pair of oxen or buffaloes, so primitive that it might be a wagon which the Huns left behind in their march through the land, still crawls and creaks under a pile of the household furniture of a family removing from one house to another, or from town to country, or from country to town. But the means of transportation most characteristic of the place are the backs of animals and of men. To an extent seen nowhere else, at all events, in Europe, the streets are obstructed by long trains of donkeys and horses carrying planks, or stones, or lime, or bricks, to some building in course of erection, or hurrying back from it for fresh loads. It is, however, in the employment of human beings as beasts of burden that Constantinople excels.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A STEP STREET

A typical street in the old Turkish quarter; the houses are built almost entirely of wood, brilliantly painted, and hardly two in the street are on the same level; the lattice work at the windows indicates the women's quarters.]

The traveller soon makes the acquaintance of these hamals, as they are called, upon his arrival, whether by sea or by land, and beholds with surprise that, while he drives to his destination in a cab and pair, his luggage is perched on the broad back of a fellowman, and proceeds thither, so to speak, on foot. And the surprise grows into wonder at the number of articles and the weight which can be put on that stooping figure. In the affairs of residents, hamals occupy an important place.

No business at the Custom House can be done without their a.s.sistance.

They carry the merchant's goods to and fro. They bring your charcoal, your coal, your wood, your stoves, your piano, your chest of drawers, every heavy piece of your furniture. They chop your wood, and store it in your cellar. They will even carry a child in their arms up a hill or to a distant house, as tenderly as any nurse. Sometimes a poor sick man is taken on a hamal's back to the hospital. To relieve the pressure of his loads, a hamal wears a thick pad on his back, suspended from the shoulders by straps through which he pa.s.ses his arms, and curved upwards at the lower end to furnish a hollow in which his burden may lodge. Thus equipped, he stoops low, as a camel does, for friendly hands to load him; a cord, by which he may steady himself and keep what he carries in position, is then pa.s.sed round his burden and given him to hold, and thereupon he rises slowly and moves off. When a street is unusually steep, it is customary to place, at convenient intervals, a series of large stones or small platforms, upon which a hamal may rest his load without removing it, and take breath for a few moments. To provide stones of rest for these burden-bearers is considered a pious act. When the load is too heavy for one man, it is slung upon a long ashen pole and given to a couple of hamals to carry, by placing the ends of the pole upon their shoulders. In the case of still heavier weights, four, six, or eight hamals perform the task in a similar way. The load is then attached to as many poles as are required; the men, ranged both in front and in the rear in an oblique line, put the ends of the poles on the left shoulder, and the right hand, where possible, upon the shoulder of the comrade to the right; and thus bound and locked together the band swings forward, shouting Varda. Many a person turns round to watch the fine stalwart figures bearing off their burden, like a trophy in a triumphal march.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SIMIT-SELLER

When moving about he carries on his head his tray, balanced on the red pad resting on his turban.]

The hamals are not natives of the city, but come from various districts of Asia Minor. They form part of that numerous body of men in Constantinople who have left their homes and families in the interior of the country to find work in the capital for a term of years, in order to support their parents, or their wives and children. It is a practice due to the scarcity of work in the interior, and a considerable portion of the money thus earned is sent home to pay the taxes for which the relatives there are a security. At intervals of five, or even ten years, these men make a long visit to their homes, and then return to their work, until they become too old for it, or have earned enough upon which to retire. They generally own a cottage and a field, property sufficient to afford the family the bare means of existence, and to furnish a convenient retreat at last for the weary bread-winner at his final home-coming. An ignorant, stubborn lot of men they may be, but their simple lives, their hard labour, and the frequency and fidelity with which they serve you, give them a place among the kind memories of a resident in Constantinople.

A company of hamals, generally natives of the same district or village, acquire the monopoly of carrying loads in a particular quarter or suburb of the town. One of their number acts as their chief, and it is through him that arrangements with them for work are made. All earnings are put into a common fund, and divided fairly between the members of the society. The various companies of hamals are as jealous of their claims upon a particular locality as are the dogs of the quarter. They may carry a load in a district not their own, only if the load is taken up first in their own quarter. Any attempt to commence work in another company's territory results in a fierce fight between the parties concerned, and exposes the articles in dispute to serious damage. The Moslem hamals are very attentive to their religious duties. It is often impossible to get them to attend to your wants at the hours of prayer.

At one time, by far the larger number of hamals employed in the city were Armenians. Those of them who were attached to merchants' offices, as caretakers and confidential messengers, were renowned for their fidelity and honesty. Any sum of money could be entrusted to their keeping with absolute safety. Since the ma.s.sacres of 1896, when this cla.s.s of the Armenian population was the object of special attack, and was almost exterminated, the hamals of the city are chiefly Kurds. It took some time for the newcomers to learn their duties, and merchants were seriously inconvenienced by the consequent acc.u.mulation of their goods at the Custom House, and the slowness of delivery. But, to all complaints on the subject, the authorities, as though the injured parties, returned the characteristic reply, "Why do you bring so many goods?" Armenian hamals used to have one great holiday in the year--Easter Monday--which they spent in dancing together, in their best garb, on a great mound of rubbish beside the military parade ground at Taxim. On their return, through the Grand Rue of Pera, "it was not uncommon to see a band of them, carrying their long, ma.s.sive poles, heaving with every appearance of intense strain and fatigue; the burden hung in the centre--an egg!" With the growth of a higher sense of human dignity this species of a beast of burden will become extinct.

To omit all reference to the dogs of a city which has been styled a "dog-kennel" is impossible, however well worn the theme may be. They are one of the prominent features in the street-scenery of the city, and attract the attention of all travellers. Along with other "improvements"

their number has been greatly diminished during recent years, but they are still in evidence in every thoroughfare of the place. Tawny in colour, with a furry coat, bushy tail, and pointed ears, they betray their relationship to the wolf and the fox, although the hardships of their lot, and still more the indulgence with which they are treated by a large part of the population, have taken almost all their ferocity out of them, except in their treatment of one another. They are the a.s.sistant-scavengers of the city, eating the pieces of food found in the rubbish, which, after an old custom not yet obsolete, is still too often dumped into the street by the inhabitants at night, for the official scavenger to remove in the morning. To some extent they act also as watchmen, making night hideous with their barking.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MARKET AT SCUTARI

It is always market-day somewhere in Constantinople.]

For these purposes they divide the city between them; so that the different quarters of Constantinople are respectively the special domains of different companies of dogs, who guard their boundaries as jealously and fiercely as any frontiers between rival nations. No sooner does a strange dog enter a canine ward than his arrival is signalled by a peculiar bark from a faithful defender of the rights of the invaded district. The bark is echoed from member to member of the injured community, until the whole pack is roused, and rushes upon the intruder like a horde of savages, biting and worrying him beyond the bounds he transgressed in an evil hour. Hence it is extremely difficult to take your own dog out for a walk in the streets of the city. A deafening uproar greets you from every community of dogs through which your road pa.s.ses. You must hold your companion in leash; you must be on the alert, whip or cane in hand, to strike at the infuriated beasts that spring with flashing teeth at him from all directions; and if you are fortunate enough to get your dog safely through the fight, it will probably be owing to the courtesy of some sympathetic onlookers who came to the rescue in your extremity. When such an encounter occurs on an open road with wilder dogs, the scene may prove a battle royal. In that case the most effective way of driving your a.s.sailants off is to throw stones at them, of which they are more afraid than of any stick in your hand.

Sometimes even the gesture of stooping to pick up a stone will suffice to put the enemy to flight, yelping with imaginary pain. In view of this state of things among the dogs of the city, a Turk, wishing to say that a certain person is not of his "sort," puts the case in the clearest and most scathing light by the simple remark, "He is not a dog of my quarter."

The dogs are treated very kindly by the Moslem population. Large companies of them encamp near barracks and guard-houses, certain to find friends among the soldiers, and to share their rations. They will gather about the shop of a baker or of a butcher, or wander like beggars from one such place of entertainment to another in their district, sure they will not be left to starve. There is a racy Turkish proverb based upon this habit of dogs to sit in a row before a butcher's shop, expecting sc.r.a.ps of meat. It is pointed against idlers who are waiting for something to turn up, and runs to the following effect, "If looking on were enough to get on, dogs would become butchers." It is not rare to see Turks purchasing a loaf and distributing it among a company of dogs.

Sometimes a dog will take his stand near a baker's shop, and at your approach will place himself at your feet, and with beseeching eyes appeal to your generosity to buy him some bread, wagging his tail in grat.i.tude for the antic.i.p.ated favour. There are dogs who come to an understanding with a family of their acquaintance as to the most convenient time to call for food, and who, at the appointed hour, tap at the door of their host's house for the promised meal. It is common to see at the door of a Turkish house an earthen jar, or an old petroleum can, half sunk in the ground, and kept filled with water for the dogs; and there is a low drinking-trough, for the benefit of the poor creatures, at many of the public fountains in the city. Frequently also, one sees a bed of straw provided for the comfort of a mother dog and her litter of puppies.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ENTRANCE TO A TURKISH KHAN

The Khans formerly used by travelling merchants with their laden camels are now almost entirely used for offices and warehouses.]

The idea of killing a dog is shocking to a Turk's mind. In his opinion, it is sinful to do so. At one time, a dog in the village of Roumeli Hissar upon the Bosporus became exceedingly dangerous. Not content with keeping stray members of his own race off his ground, he snarled and showed his teeth at every decent person who crossed his path, until at length a European resident, losing patience, drew a pistol and fired upon the obnoxious animal. The shot missed, but the gentleman who had fired it was guilty of a double offence. He had broken the law forbidding the carrying of firearms, and he had attempted the life of a dog. The culprit was instantly surrounded by a fierce mob, arrested by the police, and taken to the village prison. As strong influence could be secured for his protection, his case was easily settled. But the question how to deal with the dog was a more difficult matter to arrange. Neither arguments nor backsish could persuade the police to kill the dog. The utmost the guardians of the public safety would do was to transport him to the opposite side of the Bosporus, and consign him to the tender mercies of the inhabitants of that sh.o.r.e; and this would be done, only if the aggrieved party would defray the expense involved in executing the decree of banishment. A change of domicile from Europe to Asia, or from Asia to Europe, is the most usual remedy applied, when dogs show bad temper or become too numerous for the happiness of a particular locality. It is a remedy, however, that provokes a policy of retaliation, and induces a return of the evil in some a.n.a.logous form.

[Ill.u.s.tration: TURKISH WELL, STAMBOUL

The water supply is obtained by means of the primitive pump at the side of the stone tank; the rod attached to the crossbeam is pulled downwards to work the pump.]

Notwithstanding all this kindness, dogs are held in great contempt. They do look a disreputable lot. There are not many grosser insults in Turkey than to call a man "a dog" (kiopek), or to dismiss him with the e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, "ousht," the term employed in driving a dog away.

Among the objects which attract attention, as one moves through the streets, are the public fountains scattered over the city. They are found everywhere, and are often remarkable for their architectural beauty. Their number is explained by the fact that the old system of water-supply did not bring water into the houses, but only to the different quarters of the city, thus making it necessary to have, at convenient points, outlets from which the inhabitants could obtain water, either by coming to draw it for themselves, or by engaging the services of water-carriers. However inconvenient this arrangement may seem, it was always a pleasing sight to see groups of women and children gathered towards evening about the fountain (Tchesme) of their district to fill graceful, bright-coloured pitchers at the gushing faucets, and then to wend homewards. It took one far back in the ways of the world, and was a bit of the country in the town. Nor are the faithful water-carriers (sakka) forgotten, who brought water in great leathern vessels, shaped like a blunderbuss, hung horizontally by a strap from the left shoulder, and who poured the contents into a large earthenware vessel within your house. The aqueducts of Valens, Justinian, and other Byzantine Emperors, as well as the Basilica Cistern (Yeri Batan Serai) still act their part in furnishing the city with water. Until recently, the only other source of water-supply was either rain-water led from the roof into a cistern built under the house, or water brought in barrels from springs in the surrounding country. The introduction of water from the Lake of Derkos, which lies close to the Black Sea, to the west of the Bosporus, has been a great boon to the city, but it is not in favour for drinking purposes.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A FOUNTAIN BY THE BOSPORUS

In this form of fountain the tank is enclosed within four marble walls and roofed over.]

The most interesting fountains are those known as Sebil, generally pious foundations, and next to the mosques and turbehs, the best specimens of Oriental Art in the city. The finest example of this form of fountain is the well-known Fountain of Sultan Achmed III. (1703-1730), which stands to the east of S. Sophia, near the Grand Entrance to the Seraglio, and which was designed by that Sultan himself. The fountains are polygonal chambers; with broad, brightly-painted, wooden eaves; with sides of gilded open iron work, or of marble slabs, over which carved flowers and fruits are spread in profusion; and, often, surmounted by fantastic little domes. Within, is found a tank from which a man keeps full of water a number of metal cups, attached by chains to the iron work, but accessible, through the openings in it, to every thirsty wayfarer, without money and without price. The living, personal, human element in this mode of distributing water is as impressive as the fairy form of the monument. Furthermore, water-carriers, paid from the funds which endow a fountain, go about the streets to give "the water of life"

freely to any person who asks for it.

To erect a public fountain is a very usual form of public benefaction among Moslems, and is regarded as highly meritorious. It is common to find, in the garden wall of Turkish mansions along the Bosporus, a fountain opening on the side of the quay for the relief of any pa.s.ser-by, and especially of boatmen, who come on sh.o.r.e to tow their craft against the current. To repair a fountain is also a work of merit; an idea that, on one occasion, gave rise to a curious incident. The fountain in a certain Turkish district, although very much the worse for use, was for some reason left neglected by the community. Whereupon a Christian neighbour proposed to put the fountain in order at his own expense. The offer was welcome, but it raised a difficult question.

Would the original Moslem builder of the fountain not lose the merit of having constructed it, if his work were restored by a Christian? Would the Moslem community in the district not lose merit, for allowing the fountain to be repaired by an alien in creed? And so the matter was laid aside for consideration. At last it was settled to the satisfaction of all parties on the following understanding. The Christian might be allowed to execute the necessary repairs, if he renounced any merit for doing so, and agreed that all the merit of the good deed should belong to the original Moslem builder of the fountain. To this way out of the difficulty, the Christian had no objection, and, after signing a legal doc.u.ment to that effect, he was permitted to carry out his kind intention.

Turks are extremely particular in regard to the quality of the water they drink, and are willing to be at much trouble and expense to obtain water of the kind they prefer. To be a perfect beverage, water must issue from a rock, fall from a height, be of medium temperature, flow rapidly and copiously, taste sweet, spring in high and lonely around, and run from south to north, or from east to west. The excellence of any water is accordingly determined by the number of these conditions it fulfils. It is remarkable how much pleasure Turks find in visiting a famous spring in the country, to spend the whole day beside it, under the shade of trees, doing little else but drink carafe after carafe of the water, as the elixir of life. Resorts of this description abound on the sh.o.r.es and in the valleys of the Upper Bosporus, under such names as "The Water of Life," "The Silver Water," "The Water under the Chestnut Trees," "The Water beside the Hazels." The spectacle of the great gatherings there, on Fridays, arrayed in bright colours, seated tier above tier on the terraced platforms built against the green slope of a hill, the women above, the men below, all in the deep shade of branches meeting overhead, forms a picture beyond a painter's power to reproduce.

In this connection may be mentioned also the attractive little scenes upon which one comes frequently in walking through the city--quiet nooks, a little off the great thoroughfares, with a vine or westeria spread on a trellis across the street for an awning, and a group of humble workmen, seated on low stools at the door of a cafeneh, sipping tiny cups of coffee, drinking water, smoking the narghileh, too happy to speak much. Occasionally, the court of a small khan, or a portion of a large court, is thus canopied by a trellised vine, making an oasis in the desert of lowly toil.

[Ill.u.s.tration: OPEN-AIR CAFe, STAMBOUL

Smoking the narghileh and drinking coffee occupy a large part of the Turk's time.]

CHAPTER XI

RELIGIOUS COLOURING

ANOTHER striking feature in the life of Constantinople is the extent to which life here has a religious colouring. The Turkish State is a theocracy. Its supreme law is a code reputed to be Divine. Citizenship is secured by the profession of a particular religion. Obedience to the law of the land is obedience to the will of G.o.d. The defence of the State is the defence of a faith. Patriotism is piety. To die in battle is to belong to the n.o.ble army of martyrs. The cemetery on the hill above Roumeli Hissar is known as "The Field of the Witnesses" (Martyrs), because the resting-place of soldiers who died while Mehemet the Conqueror was building, in 1452, the castle which should command the pa.s.sage of the straits, and cut the communications of the city with the lands around the Black Sea during the forthcoming siege, "when the bud would open into flower." The picturesque cemetery, shaded by oaks, on the hill above the Genoese Castle, overlooking the entrance to the Black Sea, a view that Darius I. and Herodotus came to admire, is also named "The Field of Witnesses," because there, it is supposed, Saracen soldiers who fell in an attack upon the castle were buried. Such cemeteries are holy ground, and sepulture in them is regarded as a great honour. The attendance of the Sultan at the midday public prayers on Fridays is the official act of the Caliph of the Mohammedan world. He ascends the throne after girding his sword at the grave of the first standard-bearer of the Prophet, in the Mosque of Eyoub. The mantle of the Prophet, his green standard, his staff, sword, bow, are enshrined in the Seraglio as the sovereign's regalia, and are annually visited by the Sultan as a great State function. Around that standard all true Moslems must rally when Islam is in peril. No great act of Government may be performed until the chief doctor of the Sacred Law, the Sheik-ul-Islam, has been consulted, and sanctions the act, as in accordance with the supreme authority of faith and righteousness. Sultan Abdul Azis and his nephew, Sultan Murad, were deposed only after such sanction had been obtained.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ROUMELI HISSAR

One of the towers of the old Turkish castle built by Mehemet II. ("The Conqueror"). The distant hills seen across the Bosporus are on the Asiatic coast. The Judas tree in full bloom is a prominent feature in the spring.]

Upon this theocratic conception of the State, the exclusion of the Christian subjects of the Empire from the army is based. For, how can aliens in religion be enlisted under the banner of the Faith? Hence the inst.i.tution of the janissaries in the early history of the Ottoman Power, whereby children of Christian parentage were taken from their homes and brought up as Moslems, to furnish recruits for the army. It was an ingenious device to maintain the religious character of the military force of the Empire, and yet to prevent the burden of filling the ranks from resting exclusively upon the faithful. The abolition of the child-tax, however fortunate to others, proved a great injury to Turkey. It not only deprived the Sultans of their finest troops, but has been one of the princ.i.p.al causes of the great decrease in the Moslem population of the country; as that cla.s.s of the community alone has since been called to sustain the losses involved in military service.

The mortality among the soldiers of the Turkish army from disease and war is so great that the Moslem population is rapidly dying out, and well-informed medical experts are heard to say, "The Eastern Question will be solved by the disappearance of the Turks in the natural course of things."