CHAPTER VIThe Palaces

The walls that shut thee from the sun,The potter's art made bright with blue,Where leaf and tendril overrunThe Persian porcelain's ivory hue,And blazon'd letters, twisting thro'Proclaim there is no God but One.

The walls that shut thee from the sun,

The potter's art made bright with blue,

Where leaf and tendril overrun

The Persian porcelain's ivory hue,

And blazon'd letters, twisting thro'

Proclaim there is no God but One.

EMBROIDERY FROM CURTAIN OVER ENTRANCE TO S. SOPHIA

No features in the Sultan's city are more prominent than the cloud-capped towers and the gorgeous palaces. The two towers of Galata and of the Seraskerat have a very practical meaning. Perpetual watch is kept in them, and warning sent when the fires which have so often devastated both Pera and Stambûl are seen to have begun. The great tower of the Seraskerat, built by Mohammed II., standing in the large open space in front of the War Office, gives the best detailed view of Stambûl, and one sees how truly it is not only a city of gardens but a thoroughly Oriental city. The bazaars, the khans, the mosques, and here and there an old Byzantine house can be clearly distinguished; and the seven hills, so puzzling to the traveller on foot, stand out plainly in the forest of building.

The tower of Galata dates back, in foundation at least, to the fifth century; and when the Genoese made their settlement in the suburb it became their chief fortress. It was rebuilt and increased in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The roof has been often burnt, and the present arrangement of four circular chambers, diminishing as they ascend, is that of Abdul Mejid. Seen from the street below the Petit Champ des Morts, it is picturesque and imposing. From it is the splendid view over the whole city and far into Asia and the range of Olympus.

Between these towers, so plain and practical, and the luxurious palaces of the Sultans, the public offices form a convenient link. Some are modern of the modern, comfortable, and even comparatively clean, like the great building of the Ottoman Debt, on the finest site in Stambûl, with magnificent views of the city and the harbour. Some, like the Sublime Porte, have a certain leisurely dignity, as of the eighteenth century in Italy, but tawdry and decaying. Some, like the Ef-kaf—the ministry of religious foundations, close to S. Sophia—are mere collections of rooms, half ruined, the abode of countless officials and petitioners, of squalor and dirt.

TOWER OF GALATA FROM BRIDGE

How long will it be before the group of buildings now called the Old Seraglio follow in the same way? Already the outer court, with the tree of the Janissaries, and the Church of S. Irene, bear a desolate unkempt appearance, such as one soon learns to associate with everything that belongs to Turkish officialdom. There are few spots in Europe that have a longer or more tragic history. Thisonce was the Akropolis of Byzantium. When first the Turks took the city the Sultan lived in the Eski Seraï, the "old palace," which was on the site now occupied by the Seraskierat. But in 1468 Mohammed began to build here a summer palace, which after much enlargement became under Suleiman I. the chief palace of the Sultans, and was occupied by them till in 1839 Abdul Mejid finally removed to Dolma bagtché.

The outer court can be freely visited; though during the last year entrance has been several times refused to me at the most convenient approach, the Bâb-i-Humayûn, a tiresome restriction which is no more than an inconvenience, as one may walk freely through the lower gate. In niches on each side of the Bâb-i-Humayûn were often placed the heads of viziers whom the Sultans had sacrificed to their own jealousy or to the demands of the Janissaries. Above is a small square room where Mahmûd waited all day on the fateful 16th of June 1826, for news of the fight raging in the streets against the Janissaries. Above the gate is an inscription placed by Mohammed the Conqueror: "God shall make eternal the glory of its builder. God shall strengthen his work. God shall support his foundations." In the bare space between the outer and inner gates there is nothing to notice except the fateful tree, and the splendid sarcophagi outside S. Irene, which are said to have come from the Church of the Holy Apostles. Thence we go through an avenue up to the Middle Gate, Orta Kapou.

Coming the other way, through the lower gate, Teheshmeh Kapou, we leave the Museum Chinili Kiosk to the left. To the right of the Bâb-i-Humayûn is the Gül Kkâneh Kiosk, where Abdul Mejid issued his greathatti sherifin the presence of representatives of all the religions of the empire (see above, p.219).

Beyond the Orta Kapou no one may pass except by special irardé from the Sultan. This can only be obtained through the Embassy. Of recent years it is rarely refused; but it is usual to make a party, for the expense is large. Some five pounds or so must be given in presents. The visitors are treated as the Sultan's guests, are placed under charge of an imperial aide-de-camp, are refreshed with coffee and roseleaf jam in one of the kiosks, and taken on, usually, to the modern palaces of Dolma bagtché and Beylerbey. The Orta Kapou is strictly guarded. Here one must walk, for only a Sultan may enter on horseback. On the right was the room in which the Christian envoys waited till the Sultan pleased to send out clothes in which alone they might appear before him. As they came forth the Janissaries, ranged in military order, "darted like arrows" at the food placed before them in their kettles, a quaint custom intended to impress theforeigner with the feeling that he was in the power of a still savage people. At the left was the room where Viziers were beheaded.

Approach to the Old Seraglio

The court of the divan, now neglected, is the place where the ministers discussed, and the Sultans, when they would, listened from a latticed window. To the right were the vast kitchens. Then comes the Bâb-i-s'âddet, Gate of Felicity, which leads to what was once the Serai, the royal palace with its harem, which the Italians called Seraglio. It was through this gate that Murad IV. in 1632 walked alone to face the rebels, and hushed them to obedience, and that in 1808 the dead body of Selim III. was thrown out to the Pacha Baraicktar (see p.201), and that a few days later the corpse of his murderer, Mustafa IV., was carried forth to burial.

Within, we are among a maze of small buildings, without dignity but not altogether without beauty. They represent the caprice of sultan after sultan, and of their ladies. First we see the Arz Odassi, the throne room, built by Suleiman I., where on a large couch, like a great bed, the Sultans reposing on cushions received their ministers and the foreign envoys. Here the first French ambassadors were received by Suleiman, and here in 1568 Elizabeth's envoy sought assistance against Spain. Here again is a lattice behind which the Sultan could sit, if he would assume the state of the unapproachable Oriental.

A CORNER OF THE OLD SERAGLIO

Next we cross a deserted garden, and pass through neglected courts till we reach the library, a single room, built by Mustafa III., with a beautiful bronze door, in which are many unknown MSS. treasures. Next is the Khazna, the treasury, which is opened only by the second in authority of the imperial eunuchs, while a crowd of black-coated and fezzed officials stand on each side. It were idle to enumerate thetreasures. The visitor rarely has time properly to examine them. But one cannot fail to note the Persian throne of gold, set with hundreds of precious stones, and the beautiful Turkish divan which belongedto Ahmed I. On the staircase leading to the gallery which contains this last treasure are medallion portraits of the Sultans, interesting enough but perhaps of the same historic value as, though of far superior artistic excellence to, the portraits of the Scots Kings at Holyrood. Of similar interest and closer authenticity are the fine state costumes of the Sultans from Mohammed II. to Mahmûd the Reformer. The robes are exquisite examples of the richest eastern work in brocade and silk, and the weapons are of the finest design. Cases on the walls contain splendid collections of jewels, and some magnificent armour, notably that worn by Murad IV. at the capture of Belgrade in 1638.

There are three buildings within this part of the grounds which no one may approach. The one contains the relics of the prophet. We see the entrance with its massive door and elaborate tiles. We know that inside are the mantle, the sacred standard, the beard and a tooth of the prophet, and an impression in limestone of his foot. Beyond this again is the old harem, now unused. And not far off is the Kafess, the luxurious retreat of dethroned sultans, which has often been mentioned in these pages—the scene perhaps of the worst and vilest crimes of the Ottomans.

It is with kindlier associations that we approach the beautiful kiosk of Bagdad, whose walls, with their beautiful tiles, doors of the finest inlaid work, and carpets of the richest design, place us in an ideal Eastern scene. It is a copy, they say, of a kiosk Murad IV. saw at Bagdad. Pity that it is now only a show. Here or in the Mejidiyeh kiosk looking on the Marmora and up the Golden Horn, comes the refection, and we fancy ourselves again, but for the officialsin their to us most inappropriate costume,[65]in the Arabian Nights.

So back again and we drive round at break-neck pace, the driver shouting and cracking his whip all the way, across the Galata Bridge, along that wretched dirty lane called the "grande rue de Galata," past Top-haneh and the modern Valideh Mosque, to the palace of Dolma bagtché. It is the work of Abdul Mejid. It is vast, white, elaborate: it has aroused enthusiasm among personages who might have been expected to know better: it was from this gorgeous abode that Abdul Aziz was hurried across to the old Seraglio at his deposition: some state functions are still performed here. That is really all that one would like to say. The bewildering, dazzling, costly decorations, the pictures that Abdul Aziz so much admired, the mirrors and candelabra, the abundance of everything that is ugly and expensive, represent nothing in the world but a taste which has tried to graft on orientalism the worst ideas of the early Victorian age and the Second Empire.

Of Cheragan, where Abdul Aziz died and perhaps the last Sultan still lingers, I cannot speak. No one is now admitted. Let the enthusiastic de Amicis express, in his account of it, what we feel as we leave Dolma bagtché.

"Nothing of all the splendour remains in my memory except the Sultan's bath, made of whitest marble, sculptured with pendent flowers and stalactites, and decorated with fringes and delicate embroideries that one feared to touch, so fragile did they seem. The disposition of the rooms reminded me vaguely of the Alhambra. Our steps made no sound upon the rich carpets spread everywhere. Now and then aneunuch pulled a cord, and a green curtain rose and displayed the Bosphorus, Asia, a thousand ships, a great light; and then all vanished again, as in a flash of lightning. The rooms seemed endless, and as each door appeared we hastened our steps; but a profound silence reigned in every part, and there was no vestige of any living being, nor rustle of garment save the sound made by the silken door-curtains as they fell behind. At last we were weary of that endless journey from one splendid empty room to another, seeing ourselves reflected in great mirrors, with the black faces of our guides and the group of silent servants, and were thankful to find ourselves again in the free air, in the midst of the ragged, noisy denizens of Tophane."

The present Sultan, as all the world knows, lives in Yildiz Kiosk, a building erected by himself, on the hills above the Bosphorus. He has gradually restricted his public appearances within the narrowest limits possible to a Sultan. Only once a year does he now cross to Stambûl, to pay, on the 15th of Ramazan, homage to the Prophet's mantle in its chamber in the old Seraglio. Once a week, on Friday, he goes to the mosque he has built just outside his palace grounds. A card from the Embassy admits to a house provided by the Sultan which gives a good view of his ceremonial procession to his official prayers. As a survival, or as the modern expression of the power and obligation of the Khalif, the Commander of the Faithful, it is a sight not to be missed. The massed thousands of splendid troops, as fine a body of men as any soldiers in the world, the pilgrims from the far East, the holy men of the Mohammedan faith, admitted to the best positions and treated with the most profound reverence, the gathering of ladies from the harem in closed carriages surrounded by eunuchs, and of littleprinces in gay uniforms, at last the coming of the Sultan himself, in the most prosaic of European costumes, surmounted by a fez, with his officials preceding and following his carriage—that is the ceremony to-day which centuries ago foreigners watched rarely and with awe, if not with terror. The times have changed; and the man.

SCUTARI POINT AND LEANDER'S ISLE

Needless to say, the antiquities of Constantinople would take for their description not one but many books. Archæologists will read as well as see for themselves. Let me merely call attention to some of the prominent archæological remains which no one will wish to miss. They are the living memorials of the great past.

And first the Hippodrome. So much has already been said of it that here I shall only give the barest description of what we see to-day. And first be it noted that the space now open is probably no more than two-fifths of the original Hippodrome. The mosque of Sultan Ahmed encroached on the east; other buildings on the west. The area of the ancient Hippodrome has been estimated at 25,280 square yards. The present space is not more than 216 yards in length and 44 across. Secondly, it must not be forgotten that the present level is about 10 feet above the original pavement. Some indication of this is given by the fact that the bases of the columns, excavated by British officers during the Crimean war, are still considerably below the ground outside the railings.

S. SOPHIA FROM THE HIPPODROME. OBELISK IN THE FOREGROUND

Gyllius gives a long account of the Hippodrome as it was in his day, a century or so after the Turkish Conquest. The Egyptian obelisk, the Colossus, and the serpent column stood then as they stand now; butthere then remained also seventeen white pillars at the north-east, the iron rings still fixed to the tops from which awnings were hung. Columns, pillars, benches, remained here and there; but desolation and ruin had already fallen upon the scene. "The Hippodrome," he wrote, "is desolate, stripped of all its ornaments; and they have lately begun to build upon it. At the sight of it I was filled with grief." The Crusaders in 1204 destroyed a vast number of precious works of ancient art which adorned the site: the destruction was completed by the Turks. The famous bronze horses of Lysippus, which stood as ornaments of the imperial seat, were taken to Venice after the Latin Conquest, and stand to-day outside S. Mark's.

We see now only a great open space, thick in dust, from which rise three striking monuments. At the north-east, whence we enter from S. Sophia, is the Egyptian obelisk. This was brought from Heliopolis by Theodosius, and was erected in the position which it has ever since retained. He placed it upon a pedestal of marble and granite, upon which are elaborate reliefs of the fourth century, representing scenes in the Hippodrome. On the north are the bringing the obelisk to the Hippodrome and the placing it in position, and above it a representation of the imperial family watching the games, Theodosius in the midst, with Honorius and Arcadius and attendants, with the Labarum, the ensign of the Eastern Empire, above. On the west is a Greek inscription recording the difficulty of the erection; a corresponding Latin one is on the east. It may be worth while to give the verse translation of the old translator of Gyllius:

"To raise this four square pillar to its height,And fix it steady on its solid base,Great Theodosius tried, but tried in vain.In two and thirty days, by Proclus' skillThe toilsome work, with great applause, was done."

"To raise this four square pillar to its height,

And fix it steady on its solid base,

Great Theodosius tried, but tried in vain.

In two and thirty days, by Proclus' skill

The toilsome work, with great applause, was done."

Above the Greek inscription on the west side are other representations of the spectators at the games, including the Empress. The south side gives a chariot race round the low wall (spina), which divided the Hippodrome in the midst and on which the monuments stood. Above is another representation of the imperial family in their Kathisma. On the east, above the Latin inscription, are shown two rows of spectators, the Emperor in the upper, with a wreath for the winner of the race. The sculptures are worth the closest attention, as they are among the finest remains of the fourth century that we possess. The minuteness of the detail, in the representation of the persons with their official garb, is of the greatest historical interest.

A few paces further on is the famous Serpent column (see above, p.11). Nothing in Constantinople, perhaps in the world, has such a history. The three heads have long disappeared: one is in the Museum. When they were taken away is doubtful. Tradition makes Mohammed cut off one on the day of the conquest; but Gyllius certainly speaks as if they were still intact in his day. "Made of brass, not fluted," he says of the pillar, "but wreathed around with the foldings of three serpents like those we see in great ropes. The heads of these serpents are placed in a triangular form and rise very high upon the shaft of the pillar." The column removed from Delphi by Constantine bore, at its first making, the golden tripod which the Greeks consecrated to Apollo after the victory over Xerxes at Plataea. The names of the cities inscribed on the coils may still be traced in fragments. Canon Curtis, in "Broken Bits of Byzantium," part ii., gives tracings of five of them.

BAS-RELIEF FROM BASE OF THE OBELISK IN THE HIPPODROME, SHOWING THE IMPERIAL BOX DURING THE PERFORMANCE OF A BALLET

Further on, and nearest to the Museum of the Janissaries, is the Colossus, which is more than half as high again as the obelisk. It rests upon a base with three steps. It was once covered with brazen plates riveted with iron pins. In the time of Gyllius it was already "despoiled of its outward beauteous appearance, and discovers only the workmanship of its inside, as having felt the effects of the avarice and rapine of the barbarians." All the columns were, during the days of the Empire, regarded as great treasures. The obelisk was restored by Constantine Porphyrogenitus.

These are the most important of the monuments. But four others need mention. The Column of Constantine, of porphyry bound together by bronze rings, stands in a prominent position at the summit of the second hill, a short distance from the Hippodrome. It was Constantine's own special memorial of his foundation of the city, and it was yearly the scene of a solemn service of thanksgiving conducted by the patriarch in the presence of the emperor. It was in the main street of Byzantium, and every public ceremonial was in some way connected with it. Damaged in the eleventh century, it was restored by Manuel Comnenus (1143-1180), whose inscription marks the marble which he placed at the top of the column. It has constantly suffered from fire, and well deserves its common name of the burnt column.

While the column of Constantine is one of the prominent monuments in the city, there are three others much more rarely seen. The column of Theodosius is, happily safe in the Seraglio garden. Its inscription

FORTUNAEREDUCI OBDEVICTOS GOTHOS

FORTUNAE

REDUCI OB

DEVICTOS GOTHOS

may refer to victories of Theodosius in 381, but more probably carries us back as far as the time of Claudius Gothicus and the battle of Nissa, 269. It is fifty feet high, and is said to have supported a golden statue of Theodosius. According to legend a pillar-saint lived on it for twenty years. Certainly it was used for a grimmer purpose, for the Latins in 1204 dashed from its summit the usurper Alexius Mourtozouphlos.

The column of Marcian, not far from the Etmeidan, where the Janissaries were destroyed, is hard to find; it is in a garden belonging to a Turkish private house. It is of granite with a marble capital. The column of Arcadius, of which only the base remains, is at Avret Bazar on the seventh hill.

Next to the columns the most interesting antiquities are the aqueducts and cisterns. The aqueduct of Valens, built in 366 of stone from the walls of Chalcedon, is a conspicuous object in the view from the hill of Pera. It has been constantly repaired and restored, and it still carries water. It now extends from near the east of the mosque of Mohammed II. very nearly to the Seraskerat. The way from the mosque back to the bridge passes under it, and gives a good view of its construction and its picturesque, overgrown, half-ruined state. This and the other aqueducts (one of which may be seen near Edirnè Kapoussi) brought water from the distant hills, which was stored in vast cisterns, many of which still remain. Three at least are worth a visit. The most beautiful are the work of Philoxenus; and chief is that which the Turks call Yeri Batan Serai—the underground cistern—but more generally known is that fancifully called Bin Bir Derek, cistern of 1001 columns. I may repeat what I have said of them elsewhere.[66]

"The latter is now empty, and the sixteen rows of fourteen columns each can be closely examined. It has been considered as exhibiting 'the highest development of the art of cistern building,' and thus 'in its particular sphere' resembling S. Sophia; 'like it the boldness of the construction was never again equalled by the Byzantines.'[67]The capitals are not as a rule highly ornamented, but some have monograms which are repeated in S. Sophia. Impressive though this great building is, it is not nearly so striking as the awful gloom of the Yeri Batan Serai (the Underground Palace)—the Basilike. There seems little doubt that this is the cistern alluded to by Procopius,[68]as made by Justinian under the Portico of the Basilica. 'It is still in perfect preservation, with the entire roof intact; its three hundred and thirty-six columns, twelve feet apart, arranged in twenty-eight symmetric rows, stand each in place, crowned by a finely wrought capital; it still serves its original purpose, supplying water from the aqueduct of Valens in as copious measure as of old.'[69]The capitals here are elaborately carved, in endless variety, and in the very finest style of the age. Darkness, immensity, and the colossal size of the columns seen in the flickering torchlight, make this one of the most impressive memorials of the sixth century. It is below ground what S. Sophia is above."

They both belong, as Forchheimer and Strygowski have incontestably shown, to the age of Justinian. The capitals of the columns of the Bin Bir Derek are much plainer than those of the Yeri Batan Serai. Strygowski thinks that there the new impost capital was first used.

"It is of the widest significance for the history of Byzantine art that here throughout the new 'impost capital' is employed in its plainest constructive form. It seems not improbable that the daring builder of the cistern was the first to make use of this form of capital, which completely broke with classical tradition, and is in such perfect accord with the exigencies of arch-architecture." But the analysis of the varieties of capital made by Lethaby and Swainson shows that the impost capital had probably been in use some years before the building of the Bin Bir Derek.

The descent through a trap door and some worn steps from the stableyard of a Turkish house into the Yeri Batan Serai, lighted by a torch extemporised of sacking steeped in naptha, and wrapped round a pole, is an exciting experience. As you look out into the darkness you do not wonder that weird stories have grown up around its recesses, or that Gyllius who discovered it has a strange experience to record.[70]

"Through the Carelesness and Contempt of everything that is curious in the Inhabitants, it was never discover'd, but by me, who was a Stranger among them, after a long and diligent Search after it. The whole Ground was built upon, which made it less suspected there was a Cistern there. The People had not the least Suspicion of it, although they daily drew their Water out of the Wells which were sunk into it. I went by Chance into a House, where there was a Descent into it, and went aboard a little Skiff. The Master of the House, after having lighted some Torches, rowing me here and there a-cross, through the Pillars, which lay very deep in Water, I made a Discovery of it. He was very intent upon catching his Fish, with which the Cistern abounds, and spear'd some of them by the Light of the Torches. There is also a smallLight which descends from the Mouth of the Well, and reflects upon the Water, where the Fish usually come for Air. This Cistern is three hundred and thirty six Foot long, a hundred and eighty two Foot broad, and two hundred and twenty four Roman Paces in Compass. The Roof, and Arches, and Sides, are all Brickwork, and cover'd with Terrass, which is not the least impair'd by Time. The Roof is supported with three hundred and thirty six Marble Pillars. The Space of Intercolumniation is twelve Foot. Each Pillar is above forty Foot nine Inches high. They stand lengthways in twelve Ranges, broadways in twenty-eight. The Capitals of them are partly finish'd after the Corinthian Model, and part of them not finish'd. Over the Abacus of every Pillar is placed a large Stone, which seems to be another Abacus, and supports four Arches. There are abundance of Wells which fall into the Cistern. I have seen, when it was filling in the Winter-time, a large Stream of Water falling from a great Pipe with a mighty Noise, till the Pillars, up to the Middle of the Capitals, have been cover'd with Water. This Cistern stands Westward of the Church of St. Sophia, at the Distance of eighty Roman Paces from it."

One other cistern at least is worth a visit. It is that which is approached from the outside of the Church of the Studium at its east end. It was originally the cistern of the monastery. It is now dry and filled with hay. It has a splendid vaulted roof and twenty-five columns with beautifully carved Corinthian capitals.

As one wanders through the streets many remains of Byzantine building, even in the parts that have been almost entirely rebuilt by the Turks, are to be seen. There is one especially notable in the long street that leads to Top Kapoussi (the gate of S.Romanus). The great Imperial Palace about which antiquaries have waged so fierce a fight, has left not one stone upon another; so I will not rashly utter my own opinion of the evidence as to its site. Remains of only two of the Byzantine palaces are now to be found. The first is the surely falling wall which arrests attention as the traveller by the sea of Marmora follows the course of the sea walls before rounding the point. It is close to the Church of S. Sergius and S. Bacchus, and the identification of it with the house of Hormisdas purchased by Justinian, and afterwards enlarged by him, may be regarded as certain. It is the "palace of the King, which was formerly called by the name of Hormisdas," of which Procopius says that it was once Justinian's private house, "and when he became Emperor he made it look worthy of a palace by the magnificence of its buildings, and joined it to the other imperial apartments."[71]

It was here that Justinian was living when he had determined to fly, crossing the sea to Chalcedon, and that Theodora made her heroic and historic speech (see p.33). Now but a single wall remains. Some capitals are strewn in the sea near it. A water gate, with an inscription evidently referring to the Nika sedition, was still standing a few years ago. Canon Curtis told me of its interest in 1896: I searched for it, but it had absolutely disappeared. The solitary wall will probably soon follow it.

THE PALACE OF THE PORPHYROGENITUS

The other palace is one about which the most extraordinary mistakes have been made. It is that which the Greeks call the house of Belisarius and the Turks Tekfûr Serai. It is an oblong building of three stories, facing north and south, and placed between the two walls which descend from the Xylokerkon Gate (Kerko-Porta), at which the Theodosian wallsend, towards the Golden Horn. Gyllius believed this to be the famous palace of the Hebdomon, and nearly all the antiquaries have followed him. Professor Bury, among historians, had shown the impossibility of this identification; but it has remained for Professor van Millingen conclusively to show it to be the palace of the Porphyrogenitus. It was here that Andronicus III. resided in 1326 when Andronicus II. was at Blachernae. It was here that John Cantacuzene was in 1347 when he negotiated with the Empress. Architectural authorities differ as to its date. Some have placed it as early as Theodosius II., but it much more probably belongs to the tenth century and to the work of Constantine Porphyrogenitus. It is clearly later than the sixth century work of the palace of Hormisdas, being much more elaborate both in design and in decoration. The evidence for the identification is thus given by Professor van Millingen.[72]

"The evidence for the proper Byzantine name of Tekfûr Serai, occurs in the passage in which Critobolus describes the positions occupied by the various divisions of the Turkish army during the siege of 1453. According to that authority, the Turkish left wing extended from the Xylo-Porta (beside the Golden Horn) to the Palace of the Porphyrogenitus, which was situated upon a slope, and thence to the Gate of Charisius (Edirnè Kapoussi). The site thus assigned to the Palace of the Porphyrogenitus corresponds exactly to that of Tekfûr Serai, which stands on the steep ascent leading from Egri Kapou to the Gate of Adrianople."

Of the other palaces practically no remains exist. A few stones of Blachernae may be built into houses or walls on its site. Two lions from the Boukoleon, of which Anna Comnena speaks, stand in the gardensof the old Seraglio not far from Chinili Kiosk.[73]I know nothing else which belongs to any house of the Christian Emperors.

All these treasures of antiquity are still exposed to the sky; but those preserved in the Museum make it one of the finest in the world. The Turks have awoke to the fact that the lands most fruitful in archæological remains are now in their hands, and Hamdy Bey, the director of the imperial museum, has with indefatigable industry and admirable judgment made a magnificent collection of antiquities in the two buildings under his charge.

In theannexe, which is first visited on the upper floor, there are several collections—a magnificent series of old Oriental carpets said to have belonged to Ahmed I., two chairs, of Selim I. and Ahmed I., some exquisite Turkish and Persian pottery of various dates, and some extremely fine glass. In the other room (right, first floor) are cases containing Assyrian and Babylonian cones and Hittite inscriptions, including the famous record of Sennacherib's expedition against Hezekiah. There is also a less interesting collection of Egyptian antiquities, and, of course, several mummies. The ground floor contains the splendid collection of sarcophagi, superior to any in the world. They form an uninterrupted series from the Ionic art to that of the Byzantines. The most ancient are the three sarcophagi of terra-cotta from Clazomene, near Smyrna, which with the two at the Louvre are the only complete monuments of the archaic period. Greek art of the fifth and fourth centuriesB.C.is represented by the famous sarcophagi found at Sidon, known as the Satrap, the Mourners, Alexander's and the Lycian. To thesame centuries and the third belong a considerable number of sarcophagi. The Greco-Roman style is represented by two sarcophagi which represent the story of Hippolytus. Of the many Byzantine sarcophagi—to which ought certainly to be added those now outside S. Irene—the most beautiful, besides those called after Constantine and S. Helena his mother, is the No. 100 with the monogram of Christ.

The most splendid part of the collection is that which was unearthed in Phœnicia and chiefly near Sidon by Hamdy Bey from 1887 onwards. The Satrap—representing an oriental potentate in life and in death—is of Parian marble, and was originally painted, and is in the Ionian style. Close by it was found the beautiful Mourners, an exquisite series of weeping women, which belongs to Attic art. The glorious "sarcophagus of Alexander," which represents the Macedonian fighting with the Persians, and hunting, is alone worth a visit to Constantinople to see. It is the work of a contemporary of Lysippus, fourth centuryB.C., and is one of the very finest examples we possess of ancient art. There is another sarcophagus which evidently copies the frieze of the Parthenon.

Then there is the Egyptian-like tomb of Tabnith, King of Sidon. But it would be absurd to try and describe, or still more to criticise, these splendid examples of ancient art in a little book like mine. The excellent catalogues sold at the museum are well worth buying. Here and in Chinili Kiosk, the oldest piece of Turkish house-building in Constantinople, which contains the rest of the collection, are treasures of every period of art. Among the inscriptions are the famousstelefrom the temple of Jerusalem, and the Siloam inscription. There are exquisite examples of ancient glass and pottery and bronzes, among them the head of one of the serpents from the column. Amongthe statues are the great Hadrian from Crete, and the head and torso of Apollo, and the Nero, both from Tralles. There are two curious pieces of mosaic, but otherwise very little that is of late Byzantine work.

The museum, with its treasures scattered about the rooms and in the gardens, as yet hardly half known and studied as they deserve, may not unfitly serve to represent the endless interests of the great city, its associations with every phase of the historic life of East and West. But the fascination of the imperial city which lies "betwixt two seas" lies in something besides her history. And the poets have known it.

"Dans un baiser, l'onde au rivageDit ses douleurs;Pour consoler la fleur sauvage,L'aube a des pleurs;Le vent du soir conte sa plainteAu vieux cyprès,La tourterelle au térébintheSes longs regrets."Aux flots dormants, quand tout repose,Hors la douleur,La lune parle, et dit la causeDe sa pâleur.Ton dôme blanc, Sainte-Sophie,Parle au ciel bleu,Et, tout rêveur, le ciel confieSon rêve à Dieu."Arbre ou tombeau, colombe ou rose,Onde ou rocher,Tout, ici-bas, a quelque chosePour s'épancher ...Moi, je suis seule, et rien au mondeNe me répond,Rien que ta voix morne et profonde,Sombre Hellespont!"

"Dans un baiser, l'onde au rivageDit ses douleurs;Pour consoler la fleur sauvage,L'aube a des pleurs;Le vent du soir conte sa plainteAu vieux cyprès,La tourterelle au térébintheSes longs regrets.

"Dans un baiser, l'onde au rivage

Dit ses douleurs;

Pour consoler la fleur sauvage,

L'aube a des pleurs;

Le vent du soir conte sa plainte

Au vieux cyprès,

La tourterelle au térébinthe

Ses longs regrets.

"Aux flots dormants, quand tout repose,Hors la douleur,La lune parle, et dit la causeDe sa pâleur.Ton dôme blanc, Sainte-Sophie,Parle au ciel bleu,Et, tout rêveur, le ciel confieSon rêve à Dieu.

"Aux flots dormants, quand tout repose,

Hors la douleur,

La lune parle, et dit la cause

De sa pâleur.

Ton dôme blanc, Sainte-Sophie,

Parle au ciel bleu,

Et, tout rêveur, le ciel confie

Son rêve à Dieu.

"Arbre ou tombeau, colombe ou rose,Onde ou rocher,Tout, ici-bas, a quelque chosePour s'épancher ...Moi, je suis seule, et rien au mondeNe me répond,Rien que ta voix morne et profonde,Sombre Hellespont!"

"Arbre ou tombeau, colombe ou rose,

Onde ou rocher,

Tout, ici-bas, a quelque chose

Pour s'épancher ...

Moi, je suis seule, et rien au monde

Ne me répond,

Rien que ta voix morne et profonde,

Sombre Hellespont!"

SARCOPHAGUS FROM THE ROYAL MAUSOLEUM AT SIDONThe Carving is copied from the Frieze of the Parthenon

SARCOPHAGUS FROM THE ROYAL MAUSOLEUM AT SIDON

The Carving is copied from the Frieze of the Parthenon

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