The breeze
freshened as the night wore on, and we wended joyfully on our way, each
congratulating the other on the prospect of a speedy disembarcation. The next
day we passed south of Sardinia; and the morning after made the Island of
Maritimo, and beyond it could see the blue outlines of
Sicily. The day was at first clear and beautiful, but, with
the ascending sun, a dim vapour spread along the sky, and, wafted by the wind,
like a misty shroud, enveloped the larger island. To the eye,
all was serene and peaceful, but beneath that veil the myrmidons of power and
the assertors of human rights were engaged in deadly
conflict. The Sicilian revolution had
begun. Its end, who could foresee?
To avoid danger in the shape of rocks and
shoals at sea, it is ever best to shape the course directly for them, for then
all are vigilant. We stood, therefore, directly for the shoal which marks the
spot where, some years since, a volcanic island suddenly rose from the sea; and
shortly after disappeared. We saw nothing of it, During the night we
shortened sail, but, with the fresh wind blowing, it was difficult to check the
ship in her headlong velocity. At early daylight, the Islands of Gozo (the true
Calypso) and of Malta were directly before us. To the eye they presented the
barren aspect of rugged brown rocks, their surfaces unrelieved by tree or
verdure; and the houses, built of the same material, and covered with tile,
rather added to, than varied, the tiresome uniformity of the scene. With a fresh and
favourable wind, we sailed along the abrupt and precipitous shores, and came to
anchor in the famous port of Valetta. Three promontories, their summits fretted
with artillery, frown down upon the triune harbour. Along the
city walls, from Castle Ovo to the extreme point on the right, are lines of
fortifications, relieved here and there by some towering Saracenic structure,
presenting, in graceful contrast,
We
rowed around in our boat, and in the upper harbour saw a number of towering
three-deckers and heavy line-of-battle ships moored in formidable array. One of
the latter, some hours afterwards, passed us, outward bound; and by the side of
our little ship she looked, indeed, like
As we were not
admitted to pratique, we saw nothing more of Malta, but left it at sunset. Having once before
been there, I bear in vivid remembrance her many scenes teeming with
interest. The bay and the cave, spots consecrated by the
shipwreck and the miraculous preservation of the great Apostle of the Gentiles:
her armory, with its shields and swords, and her rare and exquisite gardens. Saturday, Feb.
12. At daylight, made the Island of Cerigo, the ancient Cythera, upon which was
wafted at her birth the Goddess of Love and Beauty. It is also reputed to have
been the birth-place of Helen, the frail heroine of the Trojan war. Passing under
easy sail, between Cerigo and Ovo, leaving Candia (ancient Crete) to the south,
we entered the blue Egean, and had the Group of the Cyclades before us as we
turned to the north. In the course of the day we saw Milo, famed for its
spacious harbour and its excel-
Sailing through the Sporadic group, we
passed the Gulf of Athens, and saw Cape Colonna, (ancient promontory of Sunium,
where Plato taught, and where are the ruins of a temple of Minerva. Greece! poetic Greece! but that my soul is
engrossed by one pervading thought, how I would love to visit thy shores! How have I loved to follow the muse in this
favoured land ! How delighted to pursue the arts, and trace the history of this
wonderful people! How admired the chaste philosophy of Greece, springing with
Corinthian beauty into life, amid the storms of sedition, and bending, like the
brilliant Iris, her beautiful bow in the clouds which had overshadowed her
sleeping oracles! The bold and
inquisitive spirit of Grecian philosophy could not be fettered by a loose and
voluptuous religion, however graceful in its structure and poetical in its
conceptions. Grecian philosophy, reflecting the early rays of revelation, more
powerful than the Titans, scaled the pagan Heaven, and overthrew its multitude
of gods. Did time permit, how I
would love to look upon the Piraeus and the Acropolis! Upon the place where
Socrates, in the dispensation of a wise Providence, was permitted to
shake the pillars of Olympus, and where the Apostle of Truth, in the midst of crumbling
shrines and silenced deities, proclaimed to the Athenians the Unknown God, whom, with divided glory, they
had so long worshipped in vain. Continuing our route through the Sporades,
between Ipsari and Scio, of sad celebrity, we rounded, on the morning of the
16th, the promontory of Bouroun, and entered the Gulf of Smyrna. P. M. By a sudden transition from the fresh
head-wind
Far beyond the shore,
might be seen the snowy crest of the Mysian Olympus. We passed in sight of the
first Turkish town, with its little cubes of flat-roofed houses, and its groves and trees, so
refreshing to the eye after the Grecian isles, all brown and
barren. It is the ancient Phocoea. The bay was dotted with
the numerous sails of feluccas, outward and inward bound. As we passed, the Bay
of Vourla opened on our right, -and on the left, were some remarkable green
hills, -and beyond them, a long, very long, low track, with a barely visible
assemblage of white dots beyond. It was Ismir! Infidel Ismir! Christian
Smyrna! The setting sun empurpled the neighbouring mountains,
gilding here and shadowing there, in one soft yet glorious hue, lending a
characteristic enchantment to our first view of an Oriental city. The wind failing, we anchored about eight
miles from Smyrna, near Agamemnon's wells. Abreast, was fort Sanjak Salassi,
with its little turrets and big port-holes, even with the ground, whence
protruded the cavernous throats of heavy guns, entirely disproportioned to the
scale of the fortifications. Our eyes were here
refreshed with the sight of rich olive-groves; Turkish villages embowered among
trees, many of the latter covered with blossoms, interspersed with the
melancholy cypress (the vegetable obelisk), and backed by a range of verdant
mountains beyond. Wednesday, Feb. 16. The
scene which this morning presented to our admiring eyes, was one of surpassing
loveliness. To the north and west was a sheet of placid water,
with cloud-capped mountains in the distance. Before us was the city,
overshadowed by a lofty peak,
But on the right was the most exquisite feature. A
narrow, but most luxuriant valley skirted the base of a range of mountains to
the south, and, from the lofty barricade to the very verge of the bay,
presented one enamelled mead of verdure and bloom. The grass
and cereal grains had all the vivid tints of early spring, while the white and
the pink blossoms of the nectarine and the almond were interspersed with the
graver hue of the dark and abounding olive. While enjoying the scene, we heard
the tinkling of bells, and looking to the left, beheld a caravan of camels
rounding a distant hill. In a long line, one after the other,
slowly, sedately, with measured strides, they passed along the road towards the
west. Each one was laden with heavy packages, except two,
which had women and children perched high upon their uneven backs. 11 A. M. Sail up and anchor off the city of Smyrna. Thursday, Feb.
17. With the first dawn of day we were amused watching the deck of an Austrian
steamer, which arrived, during the night, from Constantinople. With the sun, up
rose Turks, Greeks, and Armenians, shaking and settling themselves in their
strange and gorgeous costumes. There were magnificent Turks with blessed
beards, clothed in multitudinous garments, with a whole armory of pistols and daggers
stuck in their sashes. One old fellow was particularly striking, in a drab-coloured
capote and a white beard, smoking his chi-.
They all passed near us
on their way from the steamer to the shore. Among them were several women, with
ugly, white muslin drawn over
their faces,-closely veiled. One of the latter we were particularly
anxious to see, as she accompanied a rich old Turk with a perfect boat-load of
goods and chattels. As she passed, one hand was exposed from
beneath the folds of the muslin. Do the Turkish ladies wear
black gloves? Credat Judaeus Apella! Let the
circumcised Jew believe it! Can a Christian credit that she
was a Nubian, of the deepest Cimmerian tint? We landed and passed into
the streets, the narrow, winding ways of Smyrna. How strange everything
seems! After all one has fancied of an eastern city, how
different is the reality! The streets are very narrow and
dark, and filled with a motley and, in general, a dirty population-passing to
and fro, or sitting in their stalls, for they deserve no better
name. Greeks, Armenians, and Jews, seem to prevail. But the most striking,
living feature of the east is the long strings of camels, huge, meek-looking
beasts, with long necks and small projecting heads, tramping along under
enormous loads, with their great pulpy, India- rubber splay feet, threatening
to bear down everything in their onward march. Again and again we were
compelled to slip into the open stalls to avoid being crushed.
We proposed entering a mosque, but as we
were required to take off our boots, and the pavement was damp and dirty, we
deferred the gratification of our curiosity until we had visited
Constantinople. We came to the same resolution with
respect to a bath, the one we looked into being repulsive from its filth and
slovenliness, and far too public for our ideas of propriety. Our consul, Mr.
Offley, an honour to his name and to the position he fills, told us that he
once took a Turkish bath, but never repeated the operation. The city of Smyrna, so
inviting in its exterior, is crowded, dirty, and unprepossessing within. The
houses, excepting those on the Marina, or Water front, rarely exceed one story
in height, and are dingy and mean; and the very mosques, so imposing from
without, fall far short of the conceptions of the visitant. The Smyrniotes have fair complexions, much
fairer, we think, than the people of the Morea, and very much more so than the
Kurds, Armenians, Syrians, and Jews. The River Meles, sacred
to Homer, in winter a foaming torrent, but in summer scarce a flowing stream,
runs in a northerly direction, along the eastern limits of the city. On the
line of travel to the East, it is spanned by the caravan bridge, the great
halting place of returning and departing caravans. As we saw it, the river was
a shallow stream, not half filling the space between the widely separated
banks. Kneeling on the sands, on each side of the river, above
and below the bridge, were many hun- Turning from the throng of living beings,
we passed immediately through an extensive grove of dark, funereal cypress,
every interval between the tall, symmetrical trees being covered with
Turkish tomb-stones. These are mostly two erect slabs of marble, one at the
head and the other at the foot of each grave, their flat surfaces turned
towards the highway and covered with Turkish or Arabic inscriptions, usually in
gilt letters, recounting the name and character of the deceased. The
head-stones of the males have invariably a carved turban, coloured red or
green, according to the family of the deceased. On the
head-stones of the females, carved rose-branches are generally seen.
Some of the old head-stones had carved on them the implements of the
trades pursued in life by the tenants beneath. The hammer and the saw denoted
the carpenter; the last, the shoemaker; the trowel, the mason, and the shears,
the tailor. We were told, that in the vicinity of Constantinople there are some
with the gallows carved on them, indicating that those beneath had, by that
instrument, met their doom. It is further said, 42
The bowstring and the scimetar have now
superseded the ignominious gallows. The day will come, and is coming, when the
public mind in every enlightened community will shrink with horror from the
infliction of the punishment of death. But, until the minds of men are more
enlightened, and their conduct influenced more by holy aspirations than base,
ignoble fears, there necessarily must be an inflexibly restraining power. How beautiful is the moral of the eastern
allegory in relation to punishment! The Brahmins represent Punishment as the
son of the Deity, and the security of the four orders of the state. He rules
with a sceptre of iron, and from the beasts of the field to the children of
men, the order can never be violated with impunity. Ile is the perfection of
justice. All classes would become corrupt; all barriers would
be overthrown, and confusion would prevail upon the face of the earth, if
punishment either ceased to be inflicted or were inflicted unjustly. But, while
the Genius of Punishment, with his dark countenance and fiery eye, presses
forward to extirpate crime, the people are secure if justice be impartial. Crime, like a leprous
cancer, spreads from individuals to nations. It should be the duty, therefore,
of a Christian to oppose everything which tends to corrupt morals and promote
licentiousness. History, with her grave and solemn countenance, constantly
admonishes us, that, whatever may have been the immediate cause of national
calamities, licentiousness of morals has always preceded and precipitated the
catastrophe. The political revolutions which have most afflicted mankind were
introduced by an era of national profligacy. Charles was the
natural
But,
as if to teach mankind a lesson which tradition could never forget, the crimes
of the French people were permitted to accumulate until Paris rivalled Sodom in
iniquity: and, perhaps, the sudden and consuming wrath which fell upon the city
of the plain, was mercy compared with the protracted sufferings of this
abandoned people. If the world shuddered at the enormity of their crimes,
nations grew pale at the intensity of their sufferings. The Avenger of crime
again exacted the full measure of retribution. Alas! man, whether in his individual or
social capacity, is a frail and rebellious creature, and the sternest sanctions
of the law have, in all ages, been required for the maintenance of peace and
order. But, all the force of the law has, under every frame of government, been
found insufficient to repress the spirit of insubordination. The strong impulse
of the passions, and the hope of impunity, still impel daring and wicked men to
commit the most detestable and atrocious crimes. The Genius of Punishment, therefore, with his dark
countenance and fiery eye, must yet awhile longer frequent the haunts of the
children of men. These reflections have been indulged, in order to strengthen
the mind to contemplate a dire necessity, and to prepare it for the recital of
a shocking circumstance attendant on a legal execution here. A criminal was recently condemned to death, and
the mode adjudged was decapitation. He was led forth into one
of the public streets, and duly prepared. The clumsy
executioner, unable to strike off the head with repeated blows, deliberately,
with a saw, severed the hacked and disfigured head from
the convulsively writhing trunk. The
heart sickens at the recital. It is painful to hear, -most
painful, on the best authority, to narrate an incident so
harrowing. Were I to consult my inclinations, my pen should,
like the sun-dial, note "those hours only which are
serene." But, if I speak at all, it is my duty to
describe things exactly as I find them. Such
an event as the one above narrated would have shocked all England, even when
her penal laws, like those of Draco, were written in blood; and an unhappy
mother, starving herself, was hung for stealing a loaf of bread, wherewith to
feed her starving child. Even
with such a fact -before us, it is difficult to say whether the Ottoman
government is most a despotic or a patriarchal one. Certain it is, that if the
late barbarous
execution were made known to him, the humane heart of the Sultan would shrink
with horror, as much as that of any Christian. Unhappily, he is kept in most
profound ignorance, and every thing calculated to give him pain, or excite his
mind to inquiry, is sedulously excluded. Such is the account given by
intelligent Franks, long resident in his dominions. The country around Smyrna is highly cultivated,
and the benignant soil and genial climate amply repay the toil of the
husbandman. Less productive of the cereal grains, its vintage and its crops of fruit
are most superior and abundant. Except the mountain sides, which are sparsely
covered with brushwood, the frequent groves of cypress, each denoting a
burial-place, and the clusters of orange trees around the villas of the
wealthy, the surface
It is also one of the claimants for the birth-place
of Homer, the blind old bard, whose fame was purely posthumous! The Grecian
virgins scattered garlands throughout the seven islands of Greece, upon the
turf, beneath which were supposed to lie the remains of him, who wandered in
penury and obscurity through life, or only sang passages of his divine poem at
the festive board of his contemporaries. We were shown his
cave-but I will no longer trust myself to speak of him, whom
We also visited Diana's bath, whence Acteon's hounds, like many a human ingrate
after them, pursued and tore the hand that had caressed them. Meeting with an
acquaintance of one of the party, he invited us to his country-seat at
Bournabat, which is the summer resort of the Franks, and a great place of attraction without the
walls of Smyrna. Mounted upon
diminutive donkeys with enormous ears, in the course of the ride everybody's
stirrups broke away, and everybody's pack-saddle turned so easily, that each one found
it difficult to preserve his seat. Steering with a halter, our only bridle, we
scoured along the road and soon entered upon a plain covered with rich
plantations of olives and figs, with many nectarine and almond trees in full
bloom, and villas, here and there, embowered in orange groves, -the flatness of
the landscape relieved by clustering spires of the dark cypress, their tall
stems expanding high in air, in graceful and luxuriant foliage. We alighted before an
elegant villa, and entering a porte-cochere, passed along an avenue bordered
with fra-
After wandering about beneath the shade of the orange and
the cypress, admiring the night-blooming cereus, and inhaling the fragrance of
the rose and the jasmine, and examining
the old-time Persian water-wheel and artificial mode of irrigation, we entered
a saloon where an oriental collation of fruits and cream had been prepared for
us. Although the month of February, the climate was that of summer. Returning, we trotted merrily along the
rich alluvial plain, carpeted with the young grain just springing from the
earth. Near Smyrna, we observed a fig-tree thickly hung with
shreds of cloth, of every hue and texture. It is a common
practice among ignorant Muslims, who believe that a piece of a sick person's
garment suspended
Emerging from the gloom
of a dense cypress grove, which overshadows thousands of Muslim tombstones, we
came upon the caravan bridge, which spans the Meles with its single arch. It
was the same we had before seen, but at a different hour and under a different
aspect. On the banks, below the bridge, were hundreds of camels reposing for
the night. The setting sun shone upon the red and blue and
yellow saddle-cloths, while the picturesque costumes of the
Mukris or camel-drivers, grouped listlessly about, relieved the dun colour of
the caravan with a pleasing effect. It was a rich, golden,
oriental sunset, worthy of the pencil of a Claude Lorraine. Returning through
the city, the same strange scenes presented themselves as on our first arrival.
The variety of costume; the filthy, unpaved lanes for streets, and the
necessity of giving way before the onward tramp of a line. of loaded camels or
a mud-bespattering donkey. We were much` assisted, however, by
the consul's janissary, who did his best to clear the way before us. Consuls
and other foreign officials in Turkey are allowed, as guards, a certain number
of janissaries,or kavashes, recognized and appointed for that purpose by the
Turkish government. This janissary is always heavily armed, and possessing much
authority, is very cavalier in his treatment of the common
people. He is ever a Turk, and with his long, silver-mounted
baton, preceding the consul or his guests, is the very picture of solemn
self-sufficiency.
One of the groups consisted of an Armenian
family, and on this occasion their dress, in no particular, varied from that of
the Turks. It is said, however, that in the capital the Turkish female may be
distinguished by the red or yellow ferejeh, and the invariable yellow boot or
slipper. In this group there was little distinction in the quality of dress,
and there seemed to be very little reserve in the demeanour of the whites
towards the blacks. Certainly the latter conceal their faces
as studiously as their mistresses. They were all seated upon rugs, placed on
boards elevated a few inches above the deck, and were busied (48) In advance of them,
extending to the break of the quarter-deck, were various groups of the most
respectable class of male passengers; and beyond them, on both sides of the
deck, for two-thirds the length of the ship, was clustered a heterogeneous
assemblage of lower grade, consisting, like that on the quarter-deck, of Turks,
Greeks, Armenians, Jews, and Syrians. Many wore the turban either white or
variously coloured, except the despised Jew, whose brows were enveloped in
sable. But most of them had on the crimson tarbouch, with a
long blue or black silken tassel pendent from the crown. Their underdress
was wholly concealed by the universal "Grego," a long, heavy, brown
woollen coat, with a hood, and ornamented with scarlet cord and facings. With their feet drawn beneath them, they
were, like tailors, squatted (those who had them) upon rugs, with their baggage
piled around them, and each with the stem of a chibouque, or a narghile, in his
mouth. There is no bar for the sale of intoxicating liquors on
board. All is orderly and quiet, and there is neither quarrelling nor loud
discussion. In sobriety, at least, the Turk is a fit model for
imitation. We swept with great rapidity up the beautiful
Gulf of Smyrna, and early in the night entered the channel of Mitylene, between the Island of Mitylene (the
ancient Lesbos) and the main. This large and fertile island, placed at the
mouth of the Adramatic Gulf, derived its ancient name from one of its kings,
who reigned before the Deucalion flood. It is the birth-place of Sappho, and
was considered by the ancients the seventh in the Egean
Sea. First governed by its own kings, and then by a democracy,
it has been subject to the Persians, the
11 P. M. Enveloped in their Gregos, their
cloaks and various coverings, the deck passengers, screened from the sight, sleep
profoundly.; arid, from sheer weariness, we retired below to enjoy " the
balmy blessings of the night." Feb. 19. This morning, the deck presented a
singular scene. Its whole surface was one uninterrupted range of tumuli,
beneath each one of which reposed a human being. Not having been sheltered by
awnings, their clothing, saturated by the rain which had fallen during the
night, was reeking from animal heat, and rising and falling with the light or
heavy breathing of the sleepers beneath. “The low hung vapours, motionless and still, Rest on the summit
of each tiny hill."
One thing may be said of the benighted Turk: he is
never ashamed of his religion. No human respect influences him to shrink from
an open avowal of his worship; and if
outward observance be indicative of
inward piety, the Turk is the most devout of human beings. His first act, when
he awakes in the morning, is prayer; at three other stated intervals during the
day, it is
Every
public and private deed of record begins with " Bismillah," "in
the name of Him;" and the salute of a Turk, when he meets a friend, is
neither the "How are you?" "How d'ye do?" "How d'ye
find yourself?" " How d'ye carry yourself?" and " How d'ye
stand?" of the American, the Englishman, the German, the Frenchman, the
Italian, and the Spaniard, -but simply "God preserve you!" Immediately
after their devotions, they resorted to their inseparable chibouque ; but, as
it is difficult to describe " A Turk, with beads in hand and pipe in mouth, Extremely taken with his own religion," we turned to the east,
and beheld Mount Ida, capped with snow, and its tributary range, which, in a
graceful sweep, embraces the valleys of the Thymbrek and the Mendere, the
Simois and the Scamander of the Iliad. A short distance from Eski Stambhol, are
the ruins of Alexandria Troas, screened from the view by a thick growth of
stunted trees and shrubbery. At Lesbos and here, St. Paul has
been.* On the left, bearing west, is the Isle of Tenedos, in
one of the ports of which the Greeks concealed their fleet when they pretended
to have abandoned the siege of Troy. Tenedos, more frequently
even than Lesbos, has fallen a prey to the conqueror. As we advanced to the north, with the coast of
Phrygia on the right, we soon beheld that of Thrace in Europe before us, with
the islands of Lemnos and Imbros to seaward. Immediately on the Phrygian shore,
facing the broad expanse of the Mediterranean, are two conspicuous
To the north-east, on the extremity of the
Phrygian shore, is the Sigaean Promontory, crowned with a castle, and disfigured
with a town. On the opposite, or Thracian shore, with the Dardanelles between,
is Cape Helles, with a corresponding fortress, and its unprepossessing town
attendant. Near the European cape, was fought the great naval battle so fatal
to the Athenians. Turning to the east, we rounded Cape
Janissary (the Sigaean Promontory), and entering the strait, saw the sup posed
bed of the Scamander, between which and the promontory, the Grecian fleet was
hauled up, and the Grecian hosts encamped. A little beyond, is another barrow,
said to be that of Hecuba; yet further is the Rhaetian promontory, on which
also is a mound, called the tomb of Ajax. The plain of
Troy, so familiar to every classic reader, now barren and unattractive, save in
its associations, presents nothing to the eye until it rests upon Mount
Olympus; and, in the distance, the imagination, fixing upon the spot where
The strait, about five miles wide at its
mouth, narrows gradually as we ascend, until, near the town of Dardanelles, the
lofty, but gently swelling shores compress the
The Hellespont teems with
more poetic and classic associations than any other stream on earth. Its shores
were the chosen scenes of the greatest and most wondrous epic produced in any
age or clime; and, separating two great continents, its swollen and impetuous
waters have been repeatedly crossed by invading armies; by two Persian
monarchs, by Philip's warlike son, by the crusading hosts of Europe, and by the
Muhammedan conqueror of Constantinople. Its rushing flood
engulfed Leander within hearing, perhaps, of the thrilling shriek of the
watchful and agonized Hero: and it is left to the imagination to decide whether
the lover, paralyzed by fear, yielded unresistingly, or, with all that he
coveted on earth in view, grappled with fate, and struggled manfully, until,
with the water drumming in his ear and gurgling in his throat, he sank beneath
the surface as the last heart-rending cry swept across the angry tide. Here, too, turning from
poetic fiction to prosaic fact, the noble bard of England successfully rivalled
the feat of Leander ; but for his reward, instead of the arms of a blooming
Hero, found himself grappled in the chill embrace of a tertian ague. We stopped, for a short
time, at Sestos for the purpose of landing a number of passengers, and the
scene was extremely amusing, although it rained incessantly. Numerous
Turks, in the crimson tarbouch, or capacious turban, and yet more capacious
breeks, with a miscellaneous crowd of Armenians, Greeks, Smyrniotes, and
Syrians, were, together with their motley piles of baggage, huddled in
seemingly inextricable confusion at the gangway, In Mitylene, we received on board a dandy, who, in dress
and smirking self-conceit, scarce fell short of the exquisite fop of Broadway
in sustaining the delineation of the insect. His
tarbouch was higher, and the long, blue silk tassel pendent from it was more
flowing and redundant, his purple vest was more richly embroidered, his
trowsers more capacious, and his red morocco boots more pointed, than any we had
seen. At Tenedos, where we had
also stopped, we received on board a Turkish effendi (gentleman), chief of
customs in the island. He had a large retinue of servants, who
obsequiously attended upon him. He was now playing backgammon
with a Greek officer in a faded uniform, who sported the largest, fiercest, and
most fiery moustache we had ever seen. The Turk had a pleasing
countenance, and although dignified, was sociable. He was
dressed in an azure silk tunic, trimmed with fur, and his head was covered by
the tarbouch worn by all officials, beneath which escaped a short crop of
hair. His air was gentle, and his person
clean. His pipe-bearer had brought him a superb narghile, a
silver vase eighteen inches high, with a flexible tube twelve or fifteen feet
long, wound round with silver wire, and having a costly amber mouth-piece at
the end. He politely passed it round, and we each in turn took
a puff. The substance smoked was not tobacco, although, as prepared, it
resembled the stem of that weed finely chopped. It was called “Tombec," a
product mostly of Syria and Mesopotamia. The present specimen was from Bagdad,
and its flavour was aromatic and agreeable. But while we were sheltered below, the
deck-passen-
The town of Dardanelles (Abydos), situated
on the Asiatic side, is unattractive in its appearance, but a mart of
considerable commerce. A number of consular flags wave along the water-front,
and here, vessels bound to Constantinople, or to any of the ports of the
Euxine, must await their firman or permit. The- castles of the
Dardanelles are formidable-the one on the Asiatic side especially so, from its
heavy water-battery. A little after sunset, we
entered the sea of Marmara (White Sea). The mist and clouds, which during the
afternoon had gathered on the hills of Thrace, were now swept towards us, and
discharged copious showers as they passed. The sea and its surrounding shores
were soon shrouded in obscurity, and we retired below, first lending our only umbrella to a group of females, to shield them, in
part, from the driving rain. Nor could we suppress our
indignant remarks on the neglect of the officers of the boat, when we looked
upon so many human beings exposed to the inclemency of such a night, without
even the protection of an awning. When we retired, we were
told that the steamer would stop until morning at the village of San Stefano,
four leagues this side of Constantinople, and we anticipated enjoying the
matchless view which this city is said to present from the sea of Marmara; but
a bitter disappointment awaited us. On first awaking in the morning, we felt
that the boat was not in motion, and hastening immediately to the deck,
discovered that we were anchored in the " Golden Horn," or
harbour of Constantinople. On
our left was the Seraglio, with the city of Stambhol (or Constantinople proper)
stretching to the north and west, with a multitudinous collection of sombre
houses, the dull, brown surfaces of their the-roofs interrupted The "
Golden Horn," three miles in length, was filled with ships and
vessels of every class, and rig, and nation; and hundreds of light and buoyant
caiques flitted to and fro among them. In the far distance, above the two
bridges, the upper one resting on boats, flanking the harbour in an oblique
line, were the heavy ships of war of the Turkish fleet. To the right, on
the opposite side of the harbour, were the suburbs of Pera, Tophana, and Galata
(each of them, elsewhere a city), with the tower of the last springing shaft-like
to the skies. To the east, across the sea of Marmara, where it
receives the Bosporus, was the town of Scutari (the ancient Chalcedon), where
the fourth general council of the Christian church was
held. Near Scutari, is a spacious grove of cypress, shading
its million dead; and a high mountain behind it overlooks the cities, the
harbour, the sea, the Bosporus, and the surrounding country. But, wearied
with the very vastness of the field it is called upon to admire, the eye
reverts with renewed delight to the beautiful point of the Seraglio. A graceful sweep of
palaces, light in their proportions and oriental in their structure, washed by
the waters of the Sea of Marmara and the " Golden Horn,"
look far up the far-famed Bosporus. Here and there, upon the ascending slope, clustering
in one place, and dispersedly in. another, many a cypress shoots up its dark
green pyramidal head, between the numerous and variegated roofs. The shaft-like
form of the minaret seems to have been borrowed from the cypress, and they both
exquisitely harmonize with oriental architecture. On the summit is a
magnificent mosque, its roof a rounded surface of domes, the central and
largest covered with bronze, and glittering in the sun, with a light and
graceful minaret springing
We
landed at Tophana and, passing a marble Chinese fountain, elaborately carved,
and between two mosques, an ancient and a modern one, struck directly into the
narrow and tortuous streets that wind up the steep ascent towards the Frank
quarter in Pera. The houses are mostly of wood, rudely constructed, rarely
exceeding one story in height, and covered with a dark-brown, clumsy
tile. The shops, for they are no more, are open to the street,
each with a slightly-elevated platform, upon which the shopkeeper and his
workmen are seated ŕ la Turque. We
did not anticipate seeing so many Turkish females in the streets. It seems
that, like many of their sex in our own country, they spend a great deal of
their time in shopping. When abroad, they invariably wear the
yashmak, the ferejeh, and the clumsy red or yellow morocco boot and
slipper. The dress of the Armenian woman is almost exactly the
same, and the Greek women wear the Frank costume. The last is
making rapid encroachments, although many are bitterly opposed to it.
A Frank lady recently visited one of the Sultanas, when there were other
female* visitors present; one of the latter, not knowing that the Frank lady
understood the Turkish language, said to another, " See how
shamelessly the Frank lady exposes her face!” “Do
you know,” replied the one addressed, “it is said that, before long, we shall
do so, too?” “Allah
forbid!" exclaimed the first. Monday,
Feb. 21. Took a caique for San Stefano, the residence of our
Minister, twelve miles distant, on the Sea of
Marmara. Differing in its construction from other _________
We could not have wished a more delightful
day. The sky was serene, the surface of the sea undisturbed by
a ripple, and unchequered by the shadow of a cloud. With great rapidity we
swept by the wall of the Seraglio and the sea-wall of the city, both,
throughout their whole extent, seemingly Grecian, with more modern props and
repairs, for which purpose, intermixed with Roman brick and cement, marble
slabs, pilasters and columns have been indiscriminately used. From one position
I counted fifty minarets in Stambohl alone, omitting Scutari on one side, and
Tophana, in full view, on the other. We soon rowed past the Seven Towers, the
slaughterhouse of the days of despotism, which overlooks the western wall, and,
with the aid of the current, made a speedy passage. San Stefano is a paltry village, but
delightfully situated on the margin of the sea, with Princes' Islands towards
Dr. Davis has brought
some of his own slaves from the United States, who are best acquainted with the
cotton culture. So far from being a mere transposition of slavery from one
country to another, the very act of removal is a guaranty of emancipation to
the slave. By a law of the Ottoman Empire, no one within its limits can
be held in slavery for a period exceeding seven years.* Should
the culture of the cotton-plant succeed in this region, many, very many,
thousands of additional hands will be required. In that event, the Ottoman
Empire will present a most eligible field for the amelioration of the condition
of the free negro of our own country. In Turkey, every coloured
person employed by the government receives monthly wages; and if a slave, is
With us, it is manifest that the
distinctive character of the Israelite does not so effectually cut him off from
a full assimilation with the human family, as does the prejudice arising from
distinction of colour separate the Anglo-Saxon from the African. No matter
whether this prejudice be implanted for wise and holy purposes, or whether it
be the curse of the age. It exists, its roots are deeply
planted, it is a part of ourselves, and he is a shallow observer of man, blind
and bigoted, who will overlook or despise this pervading and resistless
feeling, originate where it may. Denied with us, the protecting care which
the interest, if not the humanity, of the owner extends to the slave, the free
negro is subject to all the prejudices of colour, with some of the rights of a
freeman, and many of the sentiments of a slave. They constitute an intermediate
class; having no bonds of common interest, no ties of sympathy to sustain it,
often too indolent to labour, and too insolent to serve, it is, collectively,
the most depraved and unhappy race in the western hemisphere. The only hope of the free
negro, is in his removal beyond the barriers of prejudice. A plan of
colonization, connected with this country, would present a broad platform upon which
the friends of this unhappy race may meet in soberness and
truth. The moral and the physical condition of the free
negroes among us; the frequent conflicts between them and the whites in our principal
cities, show that to them, on our soil, freedom carries no healing on its
wings, and liberty, that blesses all besides, has no blessings for them. As the consumption of the necessaries of life ever
increases in proportion to the facility of their production, and as Turkey
cannot, for a century to come, under any possibility, raise
:sufficient cotton for one-half of her population, she cannot become a rival in
the cotton-market. On the contrary, its general introduction, as a fabric for
domestic wear, would create a demand far. transcending the home supply, and
another mart be thereby opened to the cotton-planters of the southern and
south-western states. Already, cotton is fast superseding silk, as an article
of domestic apparel in the Turkish dominions. It is said, but untruly, that the
slave-market of Constantinople has been abolished. An edict, it is true, was
some years since promulgated, which declared the purchase and sale of slaves to
be unlawful. The prohibition, however, is only operative
against the Franks, under which term the Greeks are
included. White male slaves are purchased for adopted sons,
and female ones for wives or adopted daughters. Nubians are
bought as slaves, to serve the allotted term. Young females,
of the principal families of Georgia or Circassia, are often entrusted to
commissioners, who are responsible for their respectful treatment. They are
only purchased with their own consent, and when so purchased; are recognised by
the Muhammedan law as wives; the portion is settled upon them by law, and if
the husband misuses them, or proves unfaithful, they can sue for divorce, and
recover dowry. But, unfortunately, the husband has the power of divorce at
will, without resorting to any tribunal; and the words, "I divorce
you," from his lips, is, to the poor woman, the
The female
slaves, bought for servitude, axe subject to the wife, and not to the husband.
He has no property in them, but is bound to protect and to aid them in their
settlement.* The males rise in
condition with their masters: several pashas have been bondmen, and Seraskier
Pasha was once a Georgian slave. In a ramble to
and from the slave-market, yesterday, I saw two females, whose lots in life are
now widely different. The first was a Circassian slave, young and interesting,
but by no means beautiful, attired plainly in the Turkish costume, and her
features exposed by the withdrawal of the yashmak. She walked
a few paces behind her owner, who passed to and fro about the market. Stopping
occasionally, and again renewing his walk, he neither by word nor gesture
sought to attract a customer. When he was accosted, she quietly, but not sadly,
submitted to the inspection, and listened in silence, and without perceptible
emotion, to the interrogatories of the probable customer. The second female to whom
I have alluded was an Armenian bride being escorted to the residence of her
husband. There were three arabas, or clumsy carriages of the
country, drawn by two oxen each. The panels of the second one
were richly carved and blazoned, and its roof was supported on upright gilt
columns, with richly embroidered curtains, and fringes of
silk.