The City of the Sultan; and Domestic Manners of the Turks, in 1836, Vol. 1 (of 2)Pardoe, Miss (Julia)
History
The City of the Sultan; and Domestic Manners of the Turks, in 1836, Vol. 1 (of 2)
Pardoe, Miss (Julia)
Turkey -- Social life and customs
Meanwhile, the ladies in the gallery were not idle: compliments were
exchanged—inquiries made and answered—and conversations carried on, as
coolly as though the interlocutors had been quietly seated in their own
houses: while every five or six minutes a priest made his appearance,
bearing a salver to receive the donations of the pious and charitable.
But I soon wearied of the nasal, monotonous chant of the officiating
priests, which more than counteracted the light and gladsome aspect of
the edifice; and, satisfied with having seen a great deal of paint and
gilding, and a rich display of tissue and embroidery, as well as a holy
scuffle among the crowd at a particular period of the service, to
possess themselves of the candles that had lit up the Sepulchre, I
escaped from the scene of pious confusion; and slowly taking my way
through the cypress-shaded burial-ground, and onward to the Echelle des
morts, I gladly stepped into the caïque, to share, beneath the
hospitable roof of a friend, in the magnificent ceremonials which were
to take place in the ancient patriarchal church at the Fanar.
As we traversed the port, I was struck by the various character of the
shipping, more than usually conspicuous under a flood of bright
sunshine. The vessels of war, (one of them the largest in the world)
were lying like floating cities on the still surface of the mirror-like
Bosphorus: the foreign merchant ships, anchored in dense ranks along the
shore, with their sails furled, and their slender masts shooting
upwards, like the tall stems of a wind-stripped forest—the Arab
vessels, with their sharp high prows and sterns, precisely as I had
often seen them represented on the antique medals—the steam-packets,
dark and motionless like ocean-monsters, about to vomit forth their
volumes of thick, suffocating smoke upon the clear air; while about, and
around, and among all these, darted, and glided, and whirled, the
slender caïques of polished and carved walnut wood, with their
gracefully-clad rowers, and their minute gilded ornaments glittering in
the light; the sharp shrill cry of “On the European side”—“On the
Asiatic side!”—ringing upon the ear every moment, as the boatmen
indicated each to the other which course to steer, in order to leave to
all a free passage.
We landed on a terrace overhanging the water, at the extremity of our
friend’s garden; and after taking coffee with the ladies, immediately
set forth to visit the church by daylight. Though more limited in its
dimensions, and less rich in its decorations, than the church at Pera,
it nevertheless pleased me infinitely better; there was an air of
time-hallowed holiness about the whole of its interior, far more
attractive than the unfaded paint and fresh gilding which I had seen in
the morning.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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