Turkey Part 7

Such romantic incidents would doubtless have met with recognition on behalf of the whole race of dogs in the days of Haroun-al-Raschid, or other heroes of the "Arabian Nights," but the Young Turkey party of to-day are not to be moved by such considerations. They are practical men, and, desiring to cleanse the streets of Constantinople of a recognized nuisance, they decreed the extermination of _skilos_. But, taking into consideration the Moslem abhorrence of taking away animal life, a curious compromise was made. They were to be banished to a large enclosure at the city walls. A special forceps was invented for the purpose of trapping them, and at dead of night munic.i.p.al officers gripped the sleeping dogs by the neck or the body, and pitched them into a cart, which conveyed them to their so-called "hotel." Terrible fights occurred there between dogs already in residency and new arrivals, but it frequently happened that kind-hearted Turks waylaid the carts and liberated the captives.

Within their enclosure the dogs were fed and received water at the expense of the State, a grant of 5,000 a year having been voted in Parliament for their maintenance; but soon the s.p.a.ce allotted them proved inadequate, and their cries and smells became so horrible that it was decided to move them to another locality.

A little uninhabited island, called Oxya, about fifteen miles from the city, was selected for the purpose, and 30,000 were transported to it.

But the island had no water, and the supply of bread was difficult and irregular, and the result was that six months after their transportation only one solitary dog, of which I have the photograph, survived to tell the tale.

Discouraged by their want of success, Government has, I understand, now given up the attempt to exterminate the _skilos_, and any of my readers who happen to visit Constantinople will probably have the pleasure of forming their acquaintance.

CHAPTER XIII

THE GALATA BRIDGE AND THE BAZAARS

An attempt has been made in these pages to conduct the reader over the domains of the Sultan of Turkey, and to introduce him to some of his subjects, but there is perhaps no better place in the world for getting a panoramic view of the various races depicted than on the bridge which spans the Golden Horn, and joins Stamboul with the Galata quarter of Constantinople (see frontispiece). Nor can you find the various products of the Empire exhibited within a more suitable compa.s.s than in the bazaars of Stamboul.

It is computed that no less than twenty million persons pa.s.s over the bridge in the course of a year--_i.e._, about 50,000 daily. The races there represented are too numerous to mention. Each wears its distinctive dress, and foot and head gear, and the contrast of design and colour is wonderful, and not limited to women, as in a European crowd. Here comes an Albanian in white petticoats and crimson sash bristling with pistols; there goes an Emba.s.sy _cava.s.s_ resplendent in scarlet; there is an _Ulema_, or high ecclesiastic, with green turban and flowing robes of white, and another dressed in magenta and a white turban; soldiers in khaki or in pale blue come next, and Young Turk officers all spick and span in new uniforms. A Whirling Dervish, with tall, conical, brown head-dress then moves majestically along, followed by a Bedouin, with camel-hair mantle over his shoulders, and silken kerchief over his head. Alongside him is an M.P. from Arabia, with flowing green coat, and white cap with green turban around it, indicating consanguinity with Mahomet. As for representatives of the other s.e.x, you see groups shuffling along in soft yellow boots, and dragging loose overshoes--overshoes which often prove serviceable weapons of attack to any Turkish woman who has been insulted.

The Turkish ladies' dress is frequently bright-coloured, and a white veil is thrown over the head and face, but sometimes the dress itself is used for that purpose. The fashion, however, is prevailing that black should be used, and the women look like silhouettes flitting along.

Should it happen to be a Friday, sounds of military music greet your ear, and you hear the tramp of infantry as the Sultan's soldiers march along to line the streets through which he must pa.s.s on his way to mosque.

Nothing can rival the physical appearance, dogged perseverance, and power of endurance of the soldiers streaming before you, and the prancing steeds ridden by the officers excite your admiration.

But another sound, less musical, may disturb your ear, and a horde of half-naked savages appear, carrying on poles what you would call a garden-pump, but which is really a fire-engine. A man carrying the hose-nozzle precedes, and as they tear along, shouting "_Sagh ol!_"

("Clear out"; literally, "Keep yourself uninjured!"), you imagine a band of maniacs has been let loose.

There is now a regular fire-brigade in Constantinople, available where the streets are wide enough to permit its use, but you will not wonder that under the old system conflagrations sometimes destroyed thousands of houses at a time, and still do so in quarters where the streets are too narrow and the houses of wood.

Ambulating vendors of all sorts are also to be found on the bridge, advertising their goods in loud falsetto notes, or sometimes singing metrical eulogies over them. _Hamals_, and porters, too, of every description, are there, conveying their burdens, and Turkish sailors, whose duty it is to police the bridge, while at either end are men clad in long white shirts, without pockets, to collect the toll, and not pocket it. And as if to connect the new with the old order of administration, a motorbus, with the words "Progres" emblazoned upon it, traverses the bridge with pa.s.sengers, while British-built steamers moor on pontoons attached to the bridge, and convey travellers to the villages of the Bosphorus and other suburbs.

Crossing the bridge, you arrive at Stamboul, the Turkish quarter, and enter into a long street, arched over, and with numerous windows. It is called the _Missir Tcharchi_, or Egyptian Spice Bazaar, owing to the drugs and spices sold in it. It is dark and badly ventilated; its odours overpower you, but you see there a display of drugs and perfumes never dreamt of before, and gathered from all parts of the empire. Each shop within the bazaar is known by its special sign--a ship, a broom, a bird's-cage, the model of a mosque, a flag, bows and arrows, and so on--while its occupant sits, like a spider in his den, inviting you into his parlour.

Among the articles offered are musk and seraglio pastilles, frankincense, cedar-wood, and other perfume-emitting substances which Turks delight in throwing on the brazier to scent their apartments; otto of roses, produced in Bulgaria, rose-water, patchuli, jessamine, and other native fragrant oils, with which to perfume their person. Rouge, native hair-dyes, and henna for improving the complexion, painting the eyebrows until they meet, or staining the nails and finger-tips; corrosive sublimate, that deadly poison, for giving a flash to the eye; red and black pepper, and all sorts of condiments; seeds of the "love-in-the-mist" to protect _yiaourt_ and pastry from the evil-eye; gum mastic from the island of Chio, which women love to chew and chew for hours, and children to blow into bubbles; herbal and quack medicines of all kinds, and even gall-stones from an a.s.s to renew the vigour of youth. Nearer the sea are several streets, roofed with gla.s.s, called the _Yemish_, or fruit-bazaar, where dried fruits and nuts of every description are to be found. Among its peculiarities are fruit-pastes of plum, apricot, quince, mulberry, etc., which have been mashed, sun-dried, and rolled into thin long sheets; grape-juice, thickened with flour; unfermented grape-treacle; and honey from Angora, unrivalled for the whiteness of its comb.

The Wood-turners' bazaar gives you an insight into the native method of turning, which is performed with a bow in one hand and a chisel in the other, while the big toe supplies a third hand for holding the object in position. The Bra.s.s-turners' bazaar provides you with _samovars_, or special bra.s.s urns, for boiling water and preparing tea, and _mangals_, or braziers, for holding ignited charcoal to warm houses.

The main bazaars consist of a labyrinth of streets and alleys, arched over with masonry, and pierced with numerous domes from which the light enters. They extend over a surface of more than a mile, and their windings are so intricate that a traveller may easily lose his way.

Articles of every description, new and old, may be found there. Whole streets, for instance, are reserved for boots, shoes, and slippers of all kinds, shapes, and colours: soft yellow ones for Turkish women; patent-leather ones, with overshoes, for men; red shoes with turned-up points for Anatolians; sandals for Albanians; Parisian ones for those dressed _a la Francaise_; slippers of softest native tanned leather; slippers embroidered with seed-pearls and jewels, etc. Another street is reserved for silks from Brusa, Damascus, Syria, etc., another for pipes, hubble-bubbles, amber mouthpieces etc. Another, styled Manchester Street, is stocked with cotton prints, of flashy colours and designs, made specially for the East.

In the heart of the bazaar is the _bezesten_, an inner bazaar, with gorgeous carpets from all parts of the land, diamonds, pearls, turquoises, and all manner of precious stones; old armour, antiquities, curios, and relics of all kinds.

But the _muezzim's_ cry now reverberates through the bazaar; the sun is setting, and the gates are to be closed. You rise to depart, but the crowds, the sights, the colours, the noises, the smells, the various costumes around--these will be there on the morrow as they have been in the past, and they will still in the future allure and charm all those who come in contact with the bewitching East.

BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD