The City of the Sultan; and Domestic Manners of the Turks, in 1836, Vol. 2 (of 2)Pardoe, Miss (Julia)
History
The City of the Sultan; and Domestic Manners of the Turks, in 1836, Vol. 2 (of 2)
Pardoe, Miss (Julia)
Turkey -- Social life and customs
Nor did our misadventures end here; for, just before we entered the town
of Moudania, a gentleman, who was riding along with my father and
myself, fell back a few paces to discharge his travelling pistols, when
one of them burst in his hand nearly the whole length of the barrel, but
fortunately without doing him any injury.
During our journey across the principal plain, we came in contact with a
caravan, which had made a temporary halt by the wayside. It consisted
of between forty and fifty camels, attended by their drivers, and
accompanied by half a dozen formidable-looking dogs. I never
encountered anything more picturesque. Some of the animals were browsing
on the young shoots of the dwarf oak; others were standing lazily with
their long necks bent downwards, and their eyes closed; while the more
weary among them were lying on the earth, as though sinking under the
weight of their burthens. Their drivers, a wild, ferocious-looking
horde, were resting beneath the shade of some cloaks which they had
stretched across the bushes, and smoking their chibouks; leaving the
care of the drove to their watchful dogs. We uttered the brief but
earnest salutation of the wilderness as we passed; and, then urging on
our horses, the halt of the caravan was soon a distant object in the
landscape.
A violent storm had been slowly gathering throughout the day; and we had
scarcely taken possession of the house which had been secured for us at
Moudania, when it burst over the town. The mountains of the opposite
coast were covered with dense vapours, the sea beat violently against
the houses that fringed the shore, the thunder rattled in long continued
peals among the heights, the lightning danced along the foam-crested
billows, and the narrow street became the channel of a torrent.
The rain had only partially abated when a priest was announced, who bore
to my father and myself an invitation from the Archbishop, to whom our
arrival had been already made known; and, weary as we were, we resolved
to avail ourselves of it, accompanied by a gentleman and lady of the
party, who were kind enough to offer themselves as interpreters.
The old palace, with its noble flights of marble stairs, and paintings
in arabesque, delighted me; and there was a solemn twilight throughout
the whole suite of apartments along which we passed, lined with
serious-looking papas in attendance on His Holiness, that pleased me far
better, travel-worn and weary as I was, than the gaud and glitter so
usual in the residences of high personages in the East.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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