Part 9 (2/2)
We paused to admire the four green marble columns taken from the Temple of Diana, and the polished shafts brought from the Temple of the Sun, relics of those two magnificent cities, Ephesus and Baalbek, of whose grandeur nothing now remains but broken stones. We gazed upward at the eight immense green s.h.i.+elds covered with Arabic characters, high above our heads on the walls. But we doubted the miraculous healing power of a small hole that is always damp in a bronze-covered pillar, and hesitated also to accept the tradition that the apparent imprint of a b.l.o.o.d.y hand in the marble wall was made by the Sultan Muhammed II when he rode into St. Sophia after the capture of the city.
”On Fridays,” said the guide, as we stood at the foot of the marble steps that led to the elevated pulpit, ”the priest, clad in a long red robe, reads a prayer for the Sultan, and, while doing so, holds in one hand the Koran and in the other a drawn sword to indicate that this temple was captured from the Christians by force.”
”That prayer rug,” he continued pointing to a beautiful carpet hanging on the wall near by, ”was the personal prayer rug of the great conqueror Muhammed II. There is so much more to be seen,” he added, ”that we could spend the whole day here, but the dragoman is beckoning and we must go on.”
We shook the slippers from our feet in the porch and were driven through narrow streets to the Grand Bazaar.
”The Grand Bazaar,” said the guide, ”covers several acres. It has one hundred entrances. There are twelve hundred narrow streets or pa.s.sages under roof within the bazaar and on these streets are four thousand little shops.”
The Grand Bazaar, we decided, was the enormous department store of Stamboul; but we noticed that each little shop had its own proprietor.
To many of the visitors, this Bazaar was the most interesting place in Constantinople; for here were found the most tempting bargains in Oriental wares, in its narrow pa.s.sages were seen the native people in their most picturesque costumes, and in its maze of dimly lighted corridors some tourists were lost for awhile and met with novel adventures.
The store of Far-Away-Moses was one of the largest and most popular of the shops in the Bazaar and that genial trader did a thriving business.
There seemed to be a magnetic power that drew the guides in the direction of certain shops, an unseen influence that urged them to recommend certain places, and one of these places was Moses' emporium.
Some of the ladies found that when they slipped away and entered a shop without a guide a better bargain could be secured.
The price named for articles in the bazaar shops by the fezzed or turbaned dealers was generally three times the price that they would accept before losing a sale; but much tact was required on the part of the purchaser, and much valuable time was occupied in the diplomatic struggles between the acute Yankees and clever Moslems. When, however, the battle was won and the desired article secured at one-half or one-third the price at first demanded, the joy of the purchaser was doubled. The person, who, after an hour's d.i.c.kering, bought a bronze ornament for twenty piasters, or one dollar of American money, was just as happy over the bargain as the one who succeeded in purchasing a magnificent silk rug for twenty thousand piasters. The money drawers of the Moslem traders were swollen with their contents but their shelves were less crowded when the Americans left the bazaar.
When we returned to the vessel we found that during our absence the decks had been converted into a rival bazaar. The tourists who had failed to obtain souvenirs had another opportunity to buy them; for here were displayed silk rugs ranging in price from three thousand piasters downward, exquisite embroideries, rare silks, delicate fans, gold-laced shawls, fragrant attar of roses, and a mult.i.tude of articles in bronze, silver, and gold.
”How restful it is to recline lazily in our comfortable steamer chairs rolled up in a rug, dreaming or talking over the events of the day, without any cares or worries to disturb our thoughts,” remarked one of our friends as we sat upon the deck in the later evening hours watching the glimmering lights on the sh.o.r.e.
”Yes,” said another, ”there seems to be nothing to disturb the serenity of the night; even the distant barking of the dogs appears to be in harmony with the soft lapping of the waves against the vessel. I feel that I shall rest to-night in my berth, as Shakespeare says, in a 'sleep that knits the ravel'd sleeve of care,' after the exertion of a full day of sight-seeing.”
CHAPTER IX.
THE SELAMLIK AND THE TREASURY.
One dark night in the faraway past, so the story runs, the barking of dogs in the outskirts of Constantinople wakened the sleeping garrison in the city, warning them of the approach of a crafty foe who sought to surprise and capture the place. At the same time, the young moon, coming out from under a cloud, revealed the position of the enemy. The barking of the dogs and the light of the crescent moon enabled the garrison to frustrate the designs of their foes and save the capital from capture.
Since then the nightly howlings of the dogs have been tolerated by the Turkish people and the crescent has had a place of honor on the Turkish banner. To kill a dog is an unpardonable offense. The dogs, however, are not well fed, well groomed pets, fondled, kissed, collared, and blanketed, as in some other countries; but are ownerless, homeless creatures roaming at night in great numbers through the streets and sleeping by day on the thoroughfares and sidewalks regardless of pa.s.sers-by. The people step over or go around the sleeping animals and do not disturb them. The dogs seem to know their privileges, for they will not move out of the way.
The city is noted for its dogs, not on account of their beauty or breed, for they are a disreputable lot of mongrel curs and bear the marks of many nightly brawls, but on account of the legions of them and their usefulness as scavengers. At nightfall the residents of Stamboul empty their garbage cans in the streets and the dogs, howling and fighting, dispose of every sc.r.a.p before daylight. When a Turk desires to express the utmost contempt for a person he calls him a dog.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE DOG FIGHT HAD JUST ENDED.]
”If you wish to avoid trouble while in this city,” cautioned the dragoman, ”neither disturb a sleeping dog in the highways,--for the dog will resent the interference with his slumbers,--nor call a Turk a dog, for the anger of a Turk thus reviled is uncontrollable until the offender who called him by that vilest of epithets is severely punished.”
A drive of one and a half miles along the Grand Rue de Galata, one of the wider thoroughfares in Galata parallel to the Bosporus, carried the tourists from the custom house pier to the gates of the Dolmah Bagcheh Palace. The entrance to the grounds of the palace is through a gateway of marble, beautiful in design and richly ornamented with elaborate Corinthian columns and delicate carvings of garlands, wreaths, and urns.
While we gazed at the carvings, the officer in charge of the guard carefully examined our permit. Then the ma.s.sive gates were swung open for our entrance. Within the palace we ascended a magnificent wide marble staircase, the bal.u.s.ters of which were made of clear gla.s.s. We admired the intricately carved alabaster bath-rooms and wondered if their neatness had ever been disturbed. We pa.s.sed through a mult.i.tude of richly decorated chambers and salons where every article was arranged in perfect order, and walked on carpet strips laid for visitors' feet around the beautiful ball-room, not daring to tread on the highly polished hard-wood floor. Every apartment of the palace was immaculate, and resplendent in marble, porcelain, inlaid woods, and golden mosaics.
The largest mirror in the world reflected the pa.s.sers-by and costly paintings attracted the eyes of the visitors. The dark green malachite and the rich blue lapis lazuli harmonized pleasingly with yellow gold and white marble. And yet this grand show palace is unoccupied except by the hundreds of care-takers required to keep it in order. Its quiet is disturbed only by sight-seers who pay for the privilege of inspecting the stately apartments, and, on rare occasions, by imperial receptions which are held in the throne room. This immense apartment surpa.s.ses all the others in the elegance of its adornment. The dome overhead and the walls and the Corinthian columns which surround the room are richly decorated with oriental designs in white and gold. From the centre of the dome hangs a crystal chandelier noted for its size and beauty.
”In this throne room,” said the guide, ”five thousand persons can stand.
On the day after the close of the Fast of Ramazan, which is the first day of the Feast of Bairam, the Sultan drives here from Yildiz Palace, along a road lined with soldiers, and holds a State reception. Several thousand of the n.o.bility a.s.semble in this room and the Sultan, seated on that crimson and gold sofa, receives the homage of his officials. The generals of the army in gorgeous uniforms, the heads of the religious orders, holy men, and state officials approach according to their rank and make their obeisance to his Imperial Majesty. They reverently kiss the hem of his Majesty's garment, press the hem to their foreheads as a seal of their declaration of loyalty to his person, and then retire backward from his presence. During the reception every face in the a.s.sembly is turned toward the Sultan. To turn one's back to his Majesty, even for a moment, is unpardonable. That day after Ramazan is a great day in the city; cannons thunder, the bands play, the mosques are illuminated at night, and the people feast and rejoice.”
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