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
A few paces from the spot whence you look down upon this various
scene—a few paces, and from the refuge of the dying you gaze upon the
resting-place of the dead. Where the acacia-trees blossom in their
beauty, and shed their withered flowers upon a plain of graves on the
right hand, immediately in a line with the European cemetery, is the
burial-ground of the Armenians. It is a thickly-peopled spot; and as you
wander beneath the leafy boughs of the scented acacias, and thread your
way among the tombs, you are struck by the peculiarity of their
inscriptions. The noble Armenian character is graven deeply into the
stone; name and date are duly set forth; but that which renders an
Armenian slab (for there is not a head-stone throughout the cemetery)
peculiar and distinctive, is the singular custom that has obtained among
this people of chisselling upon the tomb the emblem of the trade or
profession of the deceased.
Thus the priest is distinguished even beyond the grave by the mitre that
surmounts his name—the diamond merchant by a group of ornaments—the
money-changer by a pair of scales—the florist by a knot of
flowers—besides many more ignoble hieroglyphics, such as the razor of
the barber, the shears of the tailor, and others of this class; and,
where the calling is one that may have been followed by either sex, a
book, placed immediately above the appropriate emblem, distinguishes the
grave of the man.
Nor is this all: the victims of a violent death have also their
distinctive mark—and more than one tomb in this extraordinary
burial-place presents you with the headless trunk of an individual, from
whose severed throat the gushing blood is spirting upwards like a
fountain, while the head itself is pillowed on the clasped hands! Many
of the more ancient among the tombs are very richly and elaborately
wrought, but nearly all the modern ones are perfectly simple; and you
seldom pass the spot without seeing groups of people seated upon the
graves beneath the shadow of the trees, talking, and even smoking. Death
has no gloom for the natives of the East.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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