Constantiople
Constantiople
Thiscity, the capital of the Turkish empire, is situated on the Bosphorus, a narrow channel which connects the Black Sea with the Sea of Marmora. It was anciently called Byzantium, but Constantine built it anew, and made it the seat of the Roman empire, in the year 328. From him it derived its name.
It fell into the hands of the Turks in 1458, and has since been their metropolis. The harbor is one of the finest in the world, and is capable of holding 1200 ships. On account of its curving shape and the rich cargoes in the ships there, this harbor is called the Golden Horn.
As you approach Constantinople, it is extremely beautiful, but when you enter it, you find the streets dark, narrow and gloomy. Every Turkish house is a kind of prison, so arranged as to keep the women in a state of jealous confinement.The men generally live in the front part, they being the jailers of the houses. There are no windows looking into the streets.
It is impossible to conceive of a greater contrast than is presented by the streets of Constantinople in comparison with a European or American city. In the latter, all is life and bustle; the shops are furnished with rich goods, and multitudes of people, men and women, are passing to and fro. Vehicles of various kinds are also moving in all directions. In Constantinople it is quite otherwise. The houses, as we have said, are dark and gloomy; the streets are mostly unpaved; few women are seen, and no vehicles, save now and then a miserable cart drawn by oxen.
There are about 300 mosques in the city, 500 fountains, and 35 public libraries. The seraglio, or sultan’s palace, is a city of itself. The harem, containing the 500 wives of the sultan, is fitted up with the most gorgeous magnificence.
The Turks spend a great part of their time in smoking at the public coffee houses. Here they seem to dream away their time in easy indolence. A modern traveller furnishes us with the following picturesque description.
“Having just landed at Constantinople, and being totally unacquainted with the Turkish language, we entered the first café we encountered, with our interpreter. Two venerable-looking Turks were squatted on a sofa, smoking their long pipes, and exchanging, from time to time, words uttered with the greatest solemnity. The nobleness of their appearance and gravity of their deportment immediately attracted our attention; and our curiosity was so excited, that we asked our interpreter to tell us what was the subject of their conversation. He laughed at our request, but, after being several times pressed, said, smilingly,
“Well, well! I will give you a literal translation of their conversation. The older Turk, with the green turban, is an emir, that is to say, a relation of the prophet; and the one opposite you is one of the magistracy.
“Effendi,” said the emir, “fish has been very dear for several days.”
“You are right,” replied the magistrate.
“Effendi,” said the relation of the prophet, “why has the fish been so dear lately?”
“I don’t know exactly; perhaps the weather has been unfavorable.”
“Would you believe that I paid six piastres for a fish, which I could have purchased the day before for one.”
“And I, alas! gave seven.”
The rest of the dialogue was of a similar nature.
Before we left Constantinople we had every reason to believe that our interpreter had given us a literal translation, although it astonished us at the time.
Wonderful Sagacity.—One day last week, when the crowd of fashionables was greatest at the Union street exhibition, a beautiful girl, who had fed the elephant with sundry cakes and apples, in taking an apple from her bag drew out her ivory card case, which fell unobserved in the saw-dust of the ring. At the close of the ring-performances, the crowd opened to let the elephant pass to his recess, but instead of proceeding, as usual, he turned aside and thrust his trunk in the midst of a group of ladies and gentlemen, who, as might be expected, were so much alarmed that they scattered in every direction. The keeper at this moment discovered that the animal had something in his trunk. Upon examination he found it to be the young lady’s card case, which the elephant had picked up, and was only seeking out the fair owner.—N.Y. paper.