href="#ulink_dae95fd9-55cd-5e0f-9348-ffe7109995d7">Table of Contents
The Greek Carnival—Kassim Pasha—The Marine Barrack—The Admiralty—Palace of the Capitan Pasha—Turkish Ships and Turkish Sailors—More Mistakes—Aqueduct of Justinian—The Seraï—The Arsenal—The “Sweet Waters”—The Fanar—Interior of a Greek House—Courteous Reception—Patriarchal Customs—Greek Ladies at Home—Confectionary and Coffee—A Greek Dinner—Ancient and Modern Greeks—A Few Words on Education—National Politeness—The Great Logotheti Aristarchi—His Politics—Sketch of his Father—His Domestic History—A Greek Breakfast—The Morning after a Ball—Greek Progress towards Civilization—Parallel between the Turk and the Greek.
The Greek Carnival extends three days beyond that of the Europeans; and, such being the case, we gladly accepted an invitation to a ball to be given by a wealthy Cesarean merchant, resident at the Fanar, or Greek quarter of Constantinople; and I embarked in a caïque, with my father, under one of those bright spring suns which make the Bosphorus glitter like a plate of polished steel.
We took boat at Kassim Pasha, in the yard of the marine barrack, an extensive block of building, equally remarkable for its tawdry fresco-painted walls, and demolished windows; and close beside the Admiralty, a gay-looking edifice in the Russian taste, elaborately ornamented throughout its exterior, and adorned with peristyles on three of its sides. The rez-de chaussée contains apartments appropriated to the principal persons of the establishment, and public offices for the transaction of business. The next range are sacred to the Sultan, who occasionally passes a morning at Kassim Pasha, inspecting the progress of the vessels of war now building: and from the windows of his saloons looking down upon the line-of-battle ships in the harbour.
On a height a little in rear of the Admiralty stand the picturesque remains of the palace that was formerly inhabited by the Capitan Pasha; of which two long lines of grated arches still exist nearly perfect, having much the effect of an aqueduct; while a little cluster of towers, crowning the grass-grown acclivity, add a most interesting feature to the ruin.
On all sides of the caïque towered a lordly vessel with its bristling cannon, and painted or gilt stern gallery, lying peacefully at anchor in the land-locked harbour; while the largest frigate in the world was busily preparing for sea as we passed under her bows, and her deck was all alive with men, in their red caps and close blue jackets; but I fear that the blue jackets of England would scarce seek to claim brotherhood with the tars of Turkey, for they have, in sooth, but a “lubberly” look with them; and it is commonly remarked that the Sultan has some of the finest vessels in the world, and some of the worst sailors.
As this was the first day of unclouded sunshine on which I had crossed the port, I looked around me in order to discover the “gilded domes" of which a modern traveller has spoken; but, alas!—the truth must be told—not a mosque in Stamboul has a gilded dome; and the only approach to such a gorgeous object that I could discover were the gilded spires of the minarets of Sultan Mahmoud’s mosque at Topphannè; but, en revanche, the eye lingered long on the ruin of Justinian’s aqueduct, which rises hoar and dark above the clustering houses of the city, spanning the two hills against which it rests, as with the grasp of centuries—upon the glittering pinnacles of the Seraï, flashing out amid the tall cypresses that hem them in; and on the elegant, but nearly untenanted, Seraglio itself, which stands upon the very edge of the lake-like sea, mirrored in the clear waters.
But these were soon left behind; and, as our sturdy rowers rapidly impelled us forward, we traced on our right hand the extensive outbuildings of the Arsenal, which bound the shore to the very extremity of the port, and only terminate at the point of the “Sweet Waters,” where a lovely river empties itself into the harbour, and gives its name to the locality.
In ten minutes, we were at the Fanar, and landed on a wooden terrace washed by the waters of the port; and in five more we had passed into the garden to which it belonged, and thence into the house of the hospitable family who had offered us a home for the night.
Having traversed an extensive hall paved with stone, whence three flights of marble stairs gave admittance into different parts of the mansion, we passed through a long gallery, and entered the apartment in which the ladies of the family were awaiting our arrival. No chilling salutation of measured courtesy—no high-bred manifestation of “exclusive” indifference, greeted the foreign strangers; but each in turn approached us with extended hand, and offered the kiss of welcome; and in less than a quarter of an hour we were all laughing and chatting as gaily in French, as though we had been the acquaintance of years.
No where do you feel yourself more thoroughly at home at once than among the inhabitants of the East; they may be what we are accustomed to call them—semi-barbarians—but, if such be the case, never was the aphorism of a celebrated female writer more thoroughly exemplified that “extreme politeness comes next to extreme simplicity of manners.” Any privation that you may suffer in a Turkish or Greek house, beyond those consequent on the habits of the country, must be gratuitous, as the natives place a firm reliance on your asking for all that you require or wish; and they are so far from being obliged to you for a contrary mode of action, that you cannot more seriously offend than by giving them cause to suspect, after your departure, that you have been inconvenienced during your residence in their families.
The room in which we were received was of considerable extent, and surrounded on three sides by a sofa, like those in the Turkish houses, which were in fact copied from the Greeks; this was covered with a gay patterned chintz, and furnished with cushions of cut velvet of a rich deep blue; nor was the comfortable tandour wanting; and, when I had laid aside my cloak, shawl, and bonnet, and exchanged my walking shoes for slippers, I crept under the wadded coverings as gladly as any Greek among them; and, having surrounded ourselves with cushions, we all sat in luxurious idleness, speculating on the forthcoming ball, and relating anecdotes of those which were past.
Nothing can be more patriarchal than the domestic economy of a Greek family: that in which we were guests comprised three generations; and the respect and obedience shown by the younger branches to their venerable relatives were at once beautiful and affecting. The aged grandmother, a noble remain of former beauty, with a profile which a sculptor must still have loved to look upon, so perfectly was its outline preserved—wore her grey hair braided back from her forehead, and a dark shawl wound about her head—a long pelisse of brown cloth lined with rich fur, with wide sleeves, and an under-jacket of crimson merinos, doubled with marten-skin—her daughter, the mistress of the house, and the mother of twelve children, reminded me strongly of a Jewess, with her large, dark, flashing eyes, and high aquiline nose: her wide brow was cinctured with a costly Persian scarf; and during the day she three times changed the magnificent cachemere in which she was enveloped. The younger ladies wore turbans of gauze wreathed with flowers, very similar to those which are in use among our matrons for evening dress; their dark, luxuriant, glossy hair being almost entirely hidden; and furred pelisses that reached from the throat mid-way to the knee, whence the full petticoat of merinos, or chaly, fell in large folds to their feet.
As soon as we were comfortably established round the tandour, a servant brought in a tray on which were arranged a large cut glass vase, filled with a delicate preserve slightly impregnated with attar de rose, a range of crystal goblets of water, and a silver boat, whose oars were gilt tea-spoons. One of these the lady of the house immersed in the preserve, and offered to me; after which she replaced the spoon in the boat, and I then accepted a draught of water presented by the same hospitable hand; the whole ceremony was next gone through with my father; and, the tray being dismissed, a second servant entered with coffee, served in little porcelain cups of divers patterns, without saucers, but deposited in stands of fillagreed silver, shaped nearly like the egg-cups of Europe.
After this, we were left to our charcoal and cushions until six o’clock; save that my father smoked a costly pipe with a mouthpiece of the colour and almost of the bulk of a lemon, in company
