There are many other churches which should be visited. Of the mediæval example the most interesting are the church of S. Thekla, S. Mary Pammakaristos, S. Theodosia (mentioned above, p. 62), the Pantokrator, SS. Peter and Mark, and the little village church of S. Mary at the Fountain. Of this last more hereafter. S. Mary Pammakaristos was built by the sister of Alexius Comnenus early in the twelfth century. It stands on the hill overlooking the Phanar. Its design is unlike any other building in the city. The main dome rests on a drum supported by four arches, these again on another drum and other arches. There are narthex and outer narthex and a number of subsidiary chapels, divided from the central chapel by columns of different sizes and shapes. In the south-east chapel there is still a splendid mosaic of Christ blessing the apostles. The tomb of Alexius Comnenus and his famous daughter Anna were here, but they were destroyed when Murad III. turned the church into a mosque. From 1456 to 1586 it was the patriarchal church. A legend attaches to it which declares that the patriarch Jeremiah I. preserved it, and all other churches then remaining, by producing Moslem witnesses before Suleiman, that the city was really surrendered by capitulation, and that the churches were guaranteed to the Christians. Two aged Moslems were brought from Adrianople and their oath was accepted, a strange story of lying in which neither faith seems to be established by the truthfulness of its believers. S. Theodosia, called "the rose mosque" for the horrible tragedy which marked its last day as a Christian church, is within the Aya Kapou, the Porta Divae Theodosiæ which was named after it. S. Theodosia was the first martyr, under Leo the Isaurian, of the iconoclastic persecutions, and her name was held in special veneration by the ladies of Constantinople. Her festival is on May 29; and in 1453 when the city was captured the church was crowded with worshippers, many of whom had spent the whole night there in prayer. Before midday the doors were broken down and the sipahis poured in. Over the walls clustered roses then in bloom, and, within, the columns were wreathed with them. The picture of the ladies seized and carried off into slavery lingered in the verses of Turkish poets, and when the church became a mosque its name was that of the rose, Güil Djami.