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
Carlowitz—Peterwarradin—Bridge of Boats—Neusatz—The
Journey of Life—The Chevalier Peitrich—Austrian
Officers—The Hungarian Poet—Illok—The Ancient Surnium—Peel
Tower—Intense Cold—Flat
Shores—Mohasch—Földvar—Pesth—German Postillion—A Few Last
Words 492
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Yèrè Batan Seraï _Frontispiece._
Tower of Galata _Vignette Title-page._
Ruins of the Imperial Palace 28
Roman Bridge at Broussa 36
Roof of Oulou Jamè from the Garden of the Greek Church 40
Turkish Mausoleum 53
The Seraglio Point 159
Part of the Valley of Guiuk-Suy 244
Castle of Mahomet 256
Column of Theodosius 358
View near Fanaraki, in Asia 406
THE CITY OF THE SULTAN.
CHAPTER I.
Departure for Broussa—Rocky Coast—Moudania—The Custom
House—Translation of the word _Backshich_—The Archbishop of
Broussa—The Boatman’s House—The Dead and the
Living—Laughable Cavalcade—Dense Mists—Fine
Country—Flowers, Birds, and Butterflies—The Coffee Hut—The
Turkish Woman—Broussa in the Distance—The Dried-up
Fountain—Immense Plains—Bohemian Gipsies—Mountain
Streams—Turkish Washerwomen—Fine Old Wall—The Jews’
Quarter—The Turkish Kiosk—Oriental Curiosity—A Dream of
Home.
Having decided on visiting Broussa, we hired an island caïque with four
stout rowers, and provided ourselves with plenty of coats and cloaks, a
basket of provisions, and a few volumes of French classics; and thus we
set sail from the Golden Horn on the last day of May, leaving Stamboul
all splendour and sunshine.
A brisk northerly wind carried us rapidly out into the Propontis; all
sails were set; my father and myself comfortably established among “the
wraps,” our Greek servant ensconced between two baskets, the steersman
squatted upon the poop of the boat grinning applause, and revealing in
his satisfaction a set of teeth as white as ivory; and, ere long,
excepting this last, our attendant, and myself, every soul on board was
asleep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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