THE TURK AND HIS
LOST PROVINCES

THE BALKAN STATES
TO ACCOMPANY
“THE TURK AND HIS LOST PROVINCES,”
By Wm. Eleroy Curtis

The TURK and HIS
LOST PROVINCES

GREECE
BULGARIA
SERVIA
BOSNIA

BY
WILLIAM ELEROY CURTIS

Author of “The True Thomas Jefferson,” “The Yankees of the
East,” “Between the Andes and the Ocean,” etc.

SECOND EDITION

CHICAGO NEW YORK TORONTO
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY
LONDON & EDINBURGH
MCMIII

Copyright, 1903, by
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY
(April)

Chicago: 63 Washington Street
New York: 158 Fifth Avenue
Toronto: 27 Richmond Street, W
London: 21 Paternoster Square
Edinburgh: 30 St. Mary Street

PREFACE

Von Moltke, the great German soldier, predicted that a universal war would be fought under the walls of Constantinople. He had faith that the Christian Powers of Europe, sooner or later, would compel the Turks to respect their moral, political, and financial obligations. This would have been done years ago but for the jealousy of those Powers, and the thousands of innocent Macedonians who have been massacred and the hundreds of thousands who have suffered from Turkish cruelty are the victims of that jealousy. The Czar would intervene, but England, France, Austria, and Germany will not permit him to do so for fear Russia will obtain a port upon the Mediterranean. At intervals the uprisings in Macedonia have indicated the approach of hostilities. They have grown more frequent and serious until, as this little book goes to press, Russia and Austria have demanded a better government for Macedonia, and the Sultan has responded by ordering 250,000 Turkish troops into that province. Diplomatic negotiations and empty assurances may again avert war, but every sign indicates that Von Moltke’s prophecy is soon to be fulfilled. The purpose of this publication is to give English readers a few facts about the several “buffer states” of the Balkan Peninsula which cannot be elsewhere obtained. It is the result of a journey through that peninsula as correspondent of The Chicago Record-Herald, and although the author realizes that it is defective and incomplete, he is confident that the American public will appreciate his efforts to give them the timely information it contains.

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

PART I
The Great Turk and His Capital

The Turk and His Lost Provinces

PART I
THE GREAT TURK AND HIS CAPITAL

I
THE LOST PROVINCES

The next battle-ground of Europe, like the last, will be the so-called Balkan Peninsula, comprising a group of petty states lying south of Austria-Hungary, bounded on one side by the Adriatic, on the other by the Black Sea, and on the south by the Ægean Sea. It is one of the most primitive, yet one of the first settled sections of Europe, where kings and queens and courts shone resplendent in ermine and jewels when Germany, Great Britain and France were still overrun by barbarians. The earliest inhabitants were the Dacians or Getæ, who had reached a considerable degree of culture when we first hear of them, from Pliny and Herodotus, resisting the invasion of Darius, the Persian, five centuries before Christ. A hundred years later, when Philip of Macedon besieged one of their cities, and was about to give a signal for the assault, the gates opened and a long line of priests, clad in robes of snow-white linen, came forth with musical instruments in their hands, singing songs of peace. Philip was so impressed by this demonstration that he laid down his sword, married the daughter of their king, and entered into a treaty of alliance with them.

They fought Alexander the Great; they resisted the Roman legions; and Julius Cæsar was planning a campaign against them when he fell in the forum with the dagger of Brutus in his breast. Trajan subdued them, and the story of his marvelous campaign is carved in marble upon his column in Rome. Theirs was the last province to be added to the Roman Empire and the first to go at its dissolution. The territory was fought over at frequent intervals by contending forces to the end of the fourteenth century, when, one after another, the several Christian states which composed the Bulgarian Empire were subdued by the Ottoman invaders who, in 1529 and 1683, actually reached the gates of Vienna. For nearly five centuries they submitted to the yoke of the Sultan and, like all his subjects, were gradually submerged in political, moral, intellectual and commercial oblivion. The existence of the once powerful people was almost forgotten. They lay helpless and hopeless under the heel of a vindictive and merciless despot until what were termed “the Bulgarian atrocities” excited universal horror in 1875-77. Then Russia intervened on the pretext of racial and religious relationship, and attempted to take them from Turkey.

The original Treaty of San Stefano, which fixed the terms of peace exacted by the Czar from the Sultan, would almost have restored the boundaries of the ancient Bulgarian Empire, given its people theoretical independence under his protection, and reduced European Turkey to a narrow strip of territory; but the jealousy of the other Powers would not permit it. Russia must not be allowed to extend her sphere of influence towards the Mediterranean. England and Germany interfered, called a conference of nations at Berlin, tore up the Treaty of San Stefano, restored a large area to the Turkish Empire, and left a group of small, weak states to stand as a buffer between the Sultan and his aggressive neighbors.

This was done upon certain conditions. Positive pledges were exacted from the Sultan concerning the administration and taxation of the restored provinces, particularly that the inhabitants should be given religious liberty, and be governed by officials of their own faith. Not one of these conditions has been fulfilled, and the most appalling injustice and cruelties have been practiced year after year, similar to those which occurred in Bulgaria and provoked the Turko-Russian war. Human life and property have been held as worthless by the Turkish officials and military garrisons. No woman has been safe from their lust. No man has been allowed to accumulate property or to improve his condition without exciting the avarice of the tax-gatherer and the military commandant. It has been useless for the inhabitants to save money or produce more than enough to supply their own wants, for the slightest surplus would attract attention and be stolen from the owner. The Christian population have had no standing in the courts and are often prohibited from practicing their religion. The number of lives wantonly taken, the number of homes wantonly destroyed, the number of women ravished and the number of children butchered in the Turkish provinces of Europe, particularly in Rumelia, where the population is almost entirely Christian, would shock the world if the truth were known, notwithstanding, year after year, the Powers of Europe have permitted these barbarities to continue. The other provinces, Kosovo, Monastir, Salonika and Scutari, have suffered severely, but the barbarities have not been so extended nor general; and they are not in such a state of anarchy, but are ripe for rebellion. Macedonia, as Eastern Rumelia is familiarly called, is the center of disturbance.

An occasional insurrection or lawless incident of which a foreigner has been the victim, such as the kidnaping of Miss Stone, has attracted public attention, and frequent written protests have been filed at the Sublime Porte by the ambassadors at Constantinople, in which the Sultan has been warned that the atrocities would not longer be tolerated, and has been admonished to repentance and reform. But, instead of improving, the conditions have grown worse. Each of these diplomatic episodes has been followed by more serious exactions and persecutions. Every remonstrance has been the signal for an increase of the military garrison in Macedonia, greater restrictions upon the liberties of the people, and the arrest and imprisonment of patriots who were suspected of having inspired the protests. This fact is well known at every embassy in Constantinople and at every foreign office in Europe, both from official and unofficial information. Every one who cares to know the truth may learn it without the slightest trouble.

How long the Powers of Europe will permit the Sultan to defy them and the present conditions to continue are questions often asked both in private and in public, but never answered. The Powers are too much engrossed in their own troubles to hear the cry from Macedonia, “Come and help us!” for neither their pride nor their pockets nor their politics are affected by the sufferings of a distant people whose commerce is insignificant and who have no influence in international affairs. Russia and Greece are the only sympathetic nations. They belong to the same race and profess the same religion. Greece, being feeble, is powerless, although her recent disastrous war with Turkey secured the partial emancipation of Crete. The Czar would instantly go to the relief of the Macedonians were he not restrained by the jealousy of Germany, Austria and England. The British people will stand unmoved and permit the entire Macedonian population to be exterminated rather than allow Russia to gain a political advantage or extend her boundaries towards the Bosphorus. Nor will Austria allow any interference lest her manufacturers lose an insignificant market.

Austria is the natural protector of the people of the Balkan Peninsula, and her administration of affairs in Bosnia has been remarkable for tact, intelligence and success. If she were allowed to extend a protectorate over Servia, Bulgaria, Macedonia and the other countries and provinces, and introduce among them the same reforms that have been admirably carried out in the countries on the Adriatic, which the Berlin Conference intrusted to her care, it would be an unmeasured blessing; but neither Germany, England nor Russia would permit such an arrangement.

Germany is more culpable than any of the other nations, because its government sustains and protects the Sultan in his atrocious policy of administration, not only in Macedonia, but in all parts of the “Near East.” No diplomatist of ancient or modern times has been more shrewd and skillful in profiting by the rivalries of his enemies. He knows that Germany will not allow Russia, England or Austria to punish him; therefore he can afford to defy them, and treat the remonstrances of their ambassadors with contempt. It must amuse His Majesty the Sultan to read the signature of the German ambassador at the bottom of the frequent diplomatic notes that are handed to him concerning the misgovernment of his empire, and we can imagine his large, sad eyes grow merry at the farces so frequently enacted at the Yildiz Kiosk, when the representatives of the Powers appear in their radiant uniforms, as they often do, to remonstrate against his inhumanity to his Christian subjects, and the massacres that are committed at his very doors. He realizes, and he knows that they realize, that the slightest interference by force on the part of any one sovereign will provoke another and even more emphatic remonstrance elsewhere, lest some political or commercial advantage may be gained. When the situation grows serious, however, he grants another profitable concession to some German syndicate as an additional policy of insurance against intervention.

The continual extension of German enterprise in the Ottoman Empire makes the reform of abuses more difficult and the position of the Sultan more secure. If Germany will cultivate his good will to obtain concessions, their possession will make it necessary for Germany to protect them. The invasion of Turkey by a foreign army, the disturbance of commerce and industrial conditions, would be a serious danger to German investments already there, and the longer such interference is postponed the more serious that danger will be, because those investments are rapidly multiplying and gaining in importance. The peace of Turkey and the maintenance of present conditions are essential to their profit. Thus the Kaiser stands as the nurse of the Sick Man of the East.

There are few German investments in European Turkey, because the anarchy which has prevailed there for many years has kept capital and immigrants away; but throughout the other Balkan States German enterprise is taking the lead in every line of trade and industry, and pushing the sales of German goods. In Asia Minor, Armenia, Syria, Palestine and other parts of Turkey, the Germans are already numerous and are increasing. They have greater privileges and better advantages than any other class. The significance and value of the Kaiser’s friendship for the Sultan is appreciated, not only by the officials, but by the public at large, and for that reason Germans are exempt from many, if not all, of the annoyances suffered by other foreigners.

It is useless to speculate as to what might happen if the friendship of the German Emperor for Abdul Hamid were withdrawn. History teaches that political problems in Turkey cannot be solved by the same rules that apply to other countries. The Sultan and his ministers are not to be considered as logical or rational beings. The extraordinary skill which they have displayed in eluding the frequent crises that have occurred in recent years, offers no ground upon which to base a prediction, but the Germans are not to be involved in any ordinary complication. The latest episode was the seizure of the island of Mitylene by a French fleet to enforce the payment of money due French contractors who built the docks at Salonika. The Sultan appealed to the Kaiser to extend his good offices in arranging an amicable settlement, and the German Minister of Foreign Relations advised the Turkish ambassador at Berlin to pay the bill. The bill was not paid, but a mortgage upon the future receipts of a Turkish custom house was given instead, and the French fleet withdrew; but when the mortgage falls due, two years hence, it will be necessary to send another fleet to collect it, for the Sultan never keeps his promises nor pays his bills until he is compelled to. The Kaiser is too shrewd to become involved in such a scandal; but if the French go so far as to interfere with German interests in Turkey or the Balkan States, they will undoubtedly meet with resistance.

The desperate state of affairs in Macedonia, or Eastern Rumelia, as that province is named on the map, is attracting no marked attention in Europe. This apathy, however, cannot long continue, for sooner or later some nation, whether from humanity or selfishness, will interfere and provoke hostilities in which all the Powers of Europe must become engaged. The seeds and causes of conflict are there, and cannot be exterminated without a struggle. The Austrians could do more than any other nation were they permitted to make the attempt. They have already demonstrated in Bosnia their ability to regenerate and govern a mongrel population, but the ambition and purpose of Russia, ever since the Romanoff dynasty came into power, has been to make Constantinople its southern capital, and add the Ottoman Empire to its own.

In Bulgaria, Servia and Roumania, disorganization and decay are advancing more rapidly than the elements of progress. These nations are becoming poorer and weaker because of misgovernment for which there is no hope of reform. Before many years their condition will have reached a crisis that will call for intervention. Russian influence is now supreme in Roumania and Bulgaria, and the Servians are willing to submit to Russian domination under certain contingencies; but Austria lies just across the Danube, and, as the nearest neighbor, takes a deep interest in Servian affairs.

It is probable that trouble will ultimately arise through collisions between the Bulgarian patriots and the Turkish troops in Macedonia. They occur frequently. Scarcely a month passes without a skirmish upon the border between brigands, as they are usually called, and Turkish military guards. Bulgarian citizens are being arrested continually and imprisoned in Turkish jails, and the Bulgarian government is always making useless protests to the authorities at Constantinople. The fact that Bulgaria is nominally under a Turkish protectorate complicates matters and gives an additional excuse for hostilities on the Turkish side, for the tribute which was agreed upon at the Berlin Conference has never been paid, and never will be. Even if there were a disposition on the part of the Bulgarians to comply with this stipulation, it would be difficult for them to raise the funds; thus the debt continues to pile up year after year, until Turkey, when the Sultan considers it wise to act, will make a demand and call upon the Powers to enforce it.

The casus belli is always on the side of the Turk. Bulgarians are continually invading Turkish territory, and it is the policy of the Sultan to shoot them when his soldiers can catch them, and say nothing about it. If Bulgaria makes a complaint, it is claimed that the dead men were brigands, caught with arms in their hands, and that the government is trying to suppress brigandage. Some day, however, the Bulgarian people will not be satisfied with this answer. They will insist that their government demand reparation from Turkey, and make a hostile demonstration that shall attract the attention of Europe. If Turkey “calls the bluff,” and sends her troops over the border, Bulgaria will appeal to the Powers for protection, and thus force the Macedonian cause upon their notice. This would have occurred long ago but for the inability of Bulgaria to raise funds to equip and pay her army, the indifference of Prince Ferdinand and the lack of leadership. The influence of Russia is against radical measures also, because she does not think the time is ripe. If Stambouloff had lived, the situation in Bulgaria might have been very different from what it is to-day. His death removed the chief obstacle to Russian domination and left Bulgaria a mere pawn in the great game of diplomacy which the Czar is now playing with the other sovereigns of Europe.

An American gentleman who has spent his life in Turkey, and is familiar with the situation throughout the country, describes it as follows: “The state of the Turkish Empire—morally, socially, financially and politically—betokens the coming of a night of anguish. In every department of government the amount of shameless iniquity is appalling. Simony and bribery, treachery and extortion, always present, but once wont to hide themselves, have lost all shame and fear of rebuke, and are hideous in their ramifications. Socially the situation everywhere is dismal. You read of riots and bloodshed in Albania, in Montenegro, along the frontiers of Bulgaria, and more recent outrages and bloodshed in Armenia. Things are not quite so bad in Syria, though they are on the way to it. During the past four years emissaries from Constantinople of a certain type have sown seeds of bitterness among the Moslems and Christians until their relations to each other are marked with unusual hostility, suspicion and open bloodshed. Even in Beirut, one of the most peaceful and progressive communities in the empire, an active vendetta is in progress and almost nightly men are murdered. No one is punished, no one’s life is safe. It would seem as though the very foundations of the social fabric had fallen.

“I can give you in brief the reasons why this awful state of affairs will continue: The corruption of the courts, in which all crimes are condoned for money. The sole ambition of the unpaid officials, after the collection of the exorbitant taxes, is to get a hold upon citizens of every degree and by means of charges, false or true, extort money from them. I have lived in Turkey more than eighteen years, and have yet to hear the innocence or guilt of a prisoner or criminal dwelt upon. The officials apparently exult in the increase of crime, caring only for the bribes and gifts resulting therefrom, while the wretched people caught seek only for a way by which they can get free from the clutches of these minions of the law. No one ever places any moral weight on the judgments delivered, for in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred they are worse than worthless. I am measuring my words and know whereof I speak.

“The second fruitful cause is the centralization of absolute power in Constantinople and the treacherous subversion of every vestige of civil rights ever enjoyed by the people. The present Sultan, years ago, instituted a policy by which he was to become the absolute master of everything in the empire. The military establishment, in its six great divisions, takes its orders direct from Abdul Hamid. Civil affairs are supposed to be administered through the vilayets (some thirty-five in all). In former times the chief officials, civil and military, were almost absolute in their departments and are still so in theory. But in recent years the Sultan, by an invidious system of imperial irades or edicts, has filched away every privilege and prerogative of these provincial officials. Constantinople has become a huge auction-market where every position in the empire is bought or sold for a price. Worse than this is the ominous fact that the high provincial officials, who once had the power to punish or remove a disobedient or unworthy subordinate, are now powerless to effect any reform. When an official falls under their displeasure or judgment, the matter must be referred to Constantinople. The delinquent hurries off to the capital and returns with an imperial rescript in his hand, confirming him in his position and enabling him to defy courts and judgments, officials and public opinion. By this process the Sultan has insidiously undermined and completely overthrown the legitimate form of government and replaced it by a set of spies, iniquitous and despicable beyond description. The despotic master and the irresponsible clique which has displaced the real government, have now extended their abominable practices and travesty of justice to the ends of the empire. As a result good men are disheartened and are leaving the empire by thousands. Everyone who ever expressed dissatisfaction with the present régime or sighs for reform or change for the better is instantly branded as one of the Young Turkish party and treated as a felon. So the empire has fallen into the hands of the worst elements—parasites and sycophants who are mocking and baffling one another in every department, while the common people are trampled under foot.

“The third cause of corruption and lawlessness is, if possible, worse than all. Immediately after the massacres in Armenia and Constantinople there were thousands of soldiers, military officers and civil officials whose hands were dyed with innocent human blood, and whose pockets and houses were filled with the accursed plunder which they were allowed to take as their reward. Fearing at that time that the Powers might seek the punishment of these red-handed murderers, the Sultan began a wholesale shifting of them to all parts of the empire, so that in every district we have thousands of these brutes who participated in the killing of 100,000 Armenians. No one was ever punished, no one was ever rebuked. Europe, in her pitiful jealousies, failed to exact punishment for anyone. In a little time the Sultan and all his miserable crew came to glory in this colossal crime. But retribution is coming. The Albanians and the Kurds, after such orgies of lawlessness and bloodshed, rapine and plunder, could never be expected to relapse into law-abiding citizens of any empire, and so they are completely out of hand and at this moment shaking off the last shadow of control from Constantinople. Those parts of the empire which were once safe and law-abiding are now preyed upon by treacherous spies and men whose sense of decency and justice was forever blotted out by their acts in Armenia. So neither Europe nor the world need express any surprise as the hand of God rolls up the stormclouds of retribution and smites the empire with the awful agonies of the coming night.”

Unspeakable horrors have been constantly occurring in this corner of the earth, and will continue to occur so long as Turks are permitted to govern Christian communities. The present management of the Macedonian Committee is patriotic, unselfish and honest. The previous administration was corrupt and vicious, but no one will suggest that the sufferings of the Christian citizens of Turkish provinces should be prolonged, even though bandits and blackmailers may be interested in their redemption. The world owes a duty to the people of Macedonia. So far as Armenia is concerned, anything more than diplomatic intervention is impracticable, and civilized nations can only continue to exert moral pressure on the Sultan in its behalf. But Macedonia is in an entirely different position. There will be no difficulty in reaching the sufferers with a fleet or an army of rescue if necessary, because its ports are on this side of the Dardanelles, and the continued violation of treaty stipulations will justify forcible interference. Every day the situation becomes more and more serious, the necessity for action more urgent.

The number of Bulgarians and other Christians massacred in Rumelia and other Turkish provinces will never be known. There is no hope that time will effect any change for the better. The motives for murder, torture and oppression are too deep-seated for moral suasion or diplomatic negotiation to reach. So long as the Christians submit patiently to every wrong that may be inflicted upon them, so long will they be permitted to live; but, in the eyes of the Mohammedans, they have forfeited their lives by accepting the faith of the Greek or the Roman Catholic Church, and so often as an excuse is offered it becomes a religious duty to exterminate them. Just as Saul was bidden to smite the Amalekites, and to slay both man and woman, infant and suckling, ox and sheep, camel and ass, so does the Koran admonish the faithful to remove unbelievers from the earth. Hence it is absurd for the Powers of Europe to wrangle with the Turks concerning the principles of good government or the introduction of reforms.

Not one of the many stipulations in the Treaty of Berlin has ever been faithfully fulfilled; not one of the reforms demanded has ever been actually carried out by the Turkish authorities. It is true that a Christian was appointed governor-general and served in that capacity for five years; but he was a cowardly creature and permitted himself to be used as a screen to shield Mohammedan subordinates who murdered, robbed and tortured the members of his own faith. “The Bulgarian atrocities” perpetrated between 1865 and 1875 have been repeated in Macedonia, and the population of that province has been largely reduced by massacre and persecution until several sections are now entirely deserted by their former Christian inhabitants. Every form of tyranny and brutality has prevailed. One record shows 15,000 victims during the last ten years. If a faithful Moslem covets the property of his Christian neighbor it is only necessary to denounce him for “discontent” before the nearest magistrate, and the soldiers will do the rest.

The inhabitants of Macedonia, as previously stated, are of the same stock, profess the same religion, speak the same language, and have the same customs as the Bulgarians. They are generally intermarried, so that the persecutions are a matter of family as well as national concern. Ever since the refusal of the Berlin Conference to include Eastern Rumelia in the Bulgarian Kingdom, the people of both countries have been determined to bring about annexation by force, and, soon after the recognition of the Bulgarian government, an organization was formed to promote that cause. It is known as the Macedonian Committee. Its headquarters are at Sofia, Bulgaria, occupying the second floor of one of the most conspicuous buildings in the center of the city. No secrecy is attempted. The meetings are open to the public, their proceedings are published in the newspapers, the names of the officers and committees appear upon every document issued, and a weekly periodical, maintained in the interest of the cause, usually contains lists of contributors to its support and signed articles by prominent agitators. Branch organizations exist in every community. There is not a village in Bulgaria without one, and the membership includes at least ninety-five per cent of the Bulgarian people. The organization is non-partisan, and has the tacit support of the government, being composed of members of all political parties—both the opponents and the supporters of the present administration.

Until 1901 some of the managers were disreputable persons, and were guilty of practices which brought the committee and the cause into contempt. The late president, Boris Sarafoff, was a notorious gambler and dissolute politician. His reputation was such that people would no longer contribute money. He squandered every dollar he could control, and, in order to obtain funds for the support of himself and his associates, adopted a bold system of blackmail. He even went so far as to threaten a high officer of the government with personal injury if he declined to contribute, and gave notice that he would kidnap the child of a Sofia banker unless a large sum was paid into the Macedonian Committee’s treasury. When these practices became known in the community there was a thorough overhauling of the organization and Stoyan Mikhailovsky was elected president. He is a literary man of high character, and enjoys universal respect and confidence, being the most eminent writer and poet in Bulgaria, as well as an orator and scholar. His associates in the management of affairs are men of similar ability and reputation, but, upon taking charge, they found the treasury empty and the accounts in such confusion that they were unable to make a financial statement to their supporters. Under the administration of Sarafoff, the worst elements in Bulgaria obtained control and the local organization at Samakof, or Samacov, as it appears on some of the maps, was undoubtedly responsible for the kidnaping of Miss Stone.

We do not know definitely what is being done in Macedonia to prepare for a revolution, but it is no secret that the entire province is practically in a state of anarchy, and whenever an opportunity is offered it will occur. In the spring of 1901 the treasury of the Macedonian Committee at Sofia was stripped of every dollar by the rascals who had charge of its affairs, and the difficulties of raising funds have seriously increased since the scandalous disclosures made at that time. Nevertheless the committee has renewed its activity and is making energetic preparations in anticipation of an outbreak. No secrecy is attempted with regard to revolutionary operations in Bulgaria. The propaganda is carried on with the greatest publicity. But all movements on the Macedonian side of the mountains are covered with mystery. Conscious of danger, the Turkish authorities in Macedonia are vigilant and constantly engaged in efforts to suppress the proposed revolt. For several years the Macedonians have been organized and arms and ammunition have been distributed among them. They drill in the forests by night and bury their guns and cartridges among the roots of the trees. This is an ancient custom, and strangers riding through the country often have their attention directed to ancient oaks which bear signs to mark the spot where arms have been concealed.

When the struggle does come the Macedonians will fight to the finish. After five centuries of Turkish bondage they have become convinced that it is better to die than to live under present conditions. Deserted farms and heaps of ashes indicate where the Turks have been administering discipline. The Turkish officials spare neither women nor children, and make no distinction between Bulgarians and Greeks. Every person who does not profess their faith is an infidel fit only to die the death, and must submit to their lust, cruelty and extortion. No Christian woman in Macedonia can be protected from the passion of the Turkish soldiers and officials, and the thresholds of thousands of homes are slippery with the blood of husbands and fathers who have died defending the honor of their wives and daughters. But the Turks have a way of accomplishing their purpose without the apparent use of force.

If a Turk finds a Christian woman who pleases his fancy it is only necessary for him to have her summoned before the nearest magistrate and asked if she desires to become his wife. If she consents the marriage ceremony is performed at once. If she refuses persecution begins—not only herself, but her father, mother, brothers and sisters are arrested for fictitious offenses and thrown into prison. They may be accused of treason and shot; they may be fined the entire value of their property, and made to suffer other penalties which the Turks show great ingenuity in devising. Some women yield to save their families, and are self-condemned to spend their lives in the perpetual slavery of the harem, but usually the entire family abandons everything, and flees across the boundary into Bulgaria with only such property as can be carried in their hands, to begin life over again under the protection of the Bulgarian authorities and among sympathetic surroundings. The Turkish officials invariably confiscate any property that may be left. Southern Bulgaria is full of such refugees. A friend told me that more than a dozen families within his own personal acquaintance had been compelled to abandon their homes in Macedonia for this reason alone, and within the limits of Bulgaria are several thousand similar cases. Young women actually disfigure themselves that their attractions may not excite the admiration of the Turk.

A gentleman who recently passed through Macedonia told me of a spectacle he saw with his own eyes and an experience which can never be forgotten. He says that, stopping for a drink of water at a roadside cabin, he saw evidences of a recent disturbance, and, as no one responded to his knock at the door, he entered. Seated upon a rude bench was a wild-eyed woman holding to her breast the body of a young babe, whose head had been crushed by a cruel blow, and whose face was stained with fresh blood. Upon the floor in the corner of the room was the mutilated body of a young peasant, the face hacked by scimiters until it was beyond recognition, while the abdomen had been ripped up until the bowels protruded. The woman was evidently insane from fear and grief, and the fact that she was unharmed was construed by the guide to mean that she was absent when a troop of Turkish soldiers, passing by, had stopped at her home long enough to murder her husband and child. The cause could only be inferred. The man was said to be an industrious, honest, well-to-do peasant, who had married the comely daughter of a prosperous neighbor about three years before. The neighbors dared not discuss the occurrence, but from the little information he could obtain it was not unusual. The people are accustomed to such tragedies. The man was a member of the Greek Church, and the Turkish soldiers killed him and his child because he either refused to renounce his faith or because they supposed he had hidden his handsome wife at their approach.

Much of the trouble is due to the desire of Turkish officials and soldiers to secure the daughters of Christian families for their harems. Is it any wonder, then, that the women of Bulgaria and Macedonia have taken the sword in their own hands and defended their homes and their persons with the courage and the strength of men? We read of a band of Bulgarian Amazons who performed such prodigies of valor in one of the revolutions years ago that, when they were finally overcome, the Turks impaled them alive before the gates of the governor’s palace and placed their heads upon the town walls.

The rebellious provinces have a population of about 4,000,000, three-fourths of whom are Christians and one-fourth Turks. Almost two-thirds are of Bulgarian ancestry, and, naturally, the people of Bulgaria have a deeper sympathy for them than have those of other nations. A portion of Macedonia formerly belonged to Servia and the remainder to Bulgaria. If it were understood that, in the event of emancipation from Turkish rule, the province would be divided upon ancient lines, the Serbs would doubtless lend their assistance and reënforce the Bulgarians; but unless some such understanding can be reached in advance the Serbs might resist Bulgaria, because of neighborly jealousy, and aid Turkey to suppress the revolt by making war upon Bulgaria. The present committee advocates Macedonian independence on the same basis as that of Servia, Bulgaria and Roumania, and its local newspaper organ asserts that it would be the crime of crimes to involve these three nations in a war.

Entirely disinterested judgment would suggest that the province of Rumelia should be placed under the protection of Austria, Germany or England; or, if that could not be permitted, that it should be governed by the Swiss, the Danes or the Dutch, who have no political interests at stake. The people are not fit for self-government, while the old policy of trying to reform the Turkish administration is criminal folly. Improvement will appear, however, the moment the curse of centuries is withdrawn, and the ground left free for wise, honest and just administration. Peaceful Moslems should, of course, be permitted to pursue their vocations and practice their religious rites, as in Bosnia. Religious freedom should be the fundamental condition, but the Turkish pashas and bashi-bazouks, and every official of Islam faith should be compelled to disappear, never to return.

If Russia could be induced to extend her influence in Armenia, which no other power can approach without crossing foreign territory, and permit Austria to control the Balkan Peninsula, there might be peace; but Russia is indifferent to the Armenians, because they do not belong to her race, nor profess her religion, while the populations of the Balkan States are almost exclusively Slavs and members of the orthodox Greek Church. Whatever may be said of the political aggressiveness of the Russians, it cannot be denied that the rulers, statesmen and people of that empire have always shown active sympathy for oppressed Christians, and there is not the slightest doubt that Alexander II. entered upon the war with Turkey in 1877 as if it were a holy crusade. The religious relation gives Russia an advantage over Austria, because the latter is a Roman Catholic country, and very few members of that faith are found in Bulgaria or the Turkish provinces. Neither Russia nor Austria would consent to British domination in the Balkans, but they might yield their own claims in favor of a protectorate by one of the smaller nations, such as Switzerland, Denmark or the Netherlands.

II
THE TURKISH GOVERNMENT

The Sultan of Turkey is a good deal like President Cleveland, in that he tries to look after the details of his government himself. President Cleveland used to sit up all night sometimes examining the recommendations of postoffice candidates because he felt a personal responsibility in the selection of good men, which he could not delegate to the officials of the postoffice department. He used to read all the evidence and other documents connected with pardon cases, because he could not trust the judgment of the attorney-general and the officials in the department of justice. He frequently sent for the papers relating to Indian contracts, public lands and other matters of business which no President before him ever investigated personally, but he knew more about what was going on, and had more influence with his own administration, as President Lincoln used to say, than any other man. The Sultan of Turkey has a similar disposition, but a different motive. He trusts nobody, although everybody succeeds finally in deceiving him. He endeavors to do everything himself and to attend to all the details, but never goes anywhere and is compelled to depend upon his ministers and other subordinates to see that his orders are carried out. Therefore most of his labor is wasted and the people suffer the consequences.

For example, recently a bridge over a river in Asia Minor was carried away by a flood and the people came down to Constantinople with a petition for a new one, because all such things are within the Sultan’s personal jurisdiction and can only be done by his orders. He read the petition and heard the committee, and, casting his eyes over the map they had submitted, suggested that the new bridge be built at another place. It was somewhat distant from the old one and in a situation more liable to danger from floods. At the same time it was very inconvenient for the public; but nobody dare tell the Sultan so, or even question the accuracy of his judgment. So a new bridge was erected at the new location and a few weeks later it was carried away like the first. The people came back to the Sultan. He refused to receive them and sent word that he had given them a new bridge and that they ought to be thankful and ask no more of him. Since then the population of that district has been compelled to cross the river in small boats because the government will not build another bridge for them and will not allow them to build one for themselves. That is about the way the government of Turkey is managed; a fair sample of maladministration that applies to every department.

Up the Golden Horn is a navy yard, with a fine marble building for the headquarters of the admiralty, a school for the education of officers, barracks for the accommodation of sailors, a hospital for the sick, and a long line of sheds and shops for the construction and repair of ships, and an enormous amount of money is expended annually for the maintenance of ships which are supposed to be in commission, but cannot be used because their engines, boilers and other machinery are useless. Some of them have no smoke-stacks. They lie at anchor where the Sultan can see them through a glass from a certain point in the park that surrounds his palace, and he supposes them to be in full commission and ready for active service. He gives the minister of marine every year money to pay for coal that is never bought, for provisions and other supplies for crews that do not exist, and for repairs that are never made. The shops are idle and empty, although he believes them to be filled with busy workmen. According to the official register, the Turkish navy consists of eighteen cruisers of from 2,000 to 8,000 tons, twelve coast-defense ships, six gunboats and twenty-six torpedo boats, but all are useless except a few small torpedo and gunboats stationed at different ports along the coast. The annual allotment of money for the supplies of the navy is about $3,200,000, but, according to the popular impression, a very small part of it is ever applied to the purpose for which it is intended. The navy yard on the Golden Horn is the most extraordinary marine morgue in existence. Long rows of vessels of the most antiquated pattern lie side by side, stripped of their machinery and equipments and fit only to be knocked to pieces for junk. Students of marine architecture will find there types of vessels that have not been used for a century, and the Sultan still appropriates money to maintain them. But even the most modern vessels, built during the late war with Greece, have been stripped of everything portable by officers and sailors whose wages have not been paid. The Sultan does not know anything about it. He depends upon his minister of marine, who gives him such information as he thinks advisable, and is supposed to rob him right and left.

Hassan Pasha has the reputation of being the richest and the most corrupt official in the Turkish government. He is supposed to be worth $4,000,000 or $5,000,000, all of which he has acquired while in the service of the government. He has great influence with the Sultan. The latter considers him one of his most loyal and efficient officers and trusts him implicitly. It is said that Hassan would like to resign and enjoy his money in London or Paris, but dare not do so. The moment he suggested any such idea the Sultan’s suspicions would be excited, and it would be dangerous for Hassan to retire, because his successor would discover what has been going on in the navy department, and Hassan’s head and his money would both be in danger. Many other pashas are very rich, but they send their money out of the country as a precaution, for they never know when they may forfeit their sovereign’s favor, and that usually means the confiscation of their estates and perhaps decapitation or imprisonment for life. When a prominent man disappears in Turkey no questions are asked. It is impolitic to be inquisitive.

Said Pasha, the grand vizier, is believed to be an honest man. He is one of the few prominent officials of the government who has not amassed a fortune while in office. For his honesty and other reasons he has many bitter and revengeful enemies. Six years ago, when he was grand vizier, he endeavored to punish certain influential pashas for robbing the government. They engaged in a conspiracy against him and got the ear of the Sultan, who believed their statements, and sent the Kapu-aghasi, chief of the white eunuchs and first officer of the imperial bedchamber—the Sultan’s most confidential man—to summon Said Pasha to his presence. The Kapu-aghasi is always an unwelcome messenger, because the Sultan trusts him when he will trust nobody else. When he carries a message it has unusual significance.

Said Pasha understood the situation, and, instead of going to the palace, sought an asylum at the British embassy, where Lord Dufferin, then ambassador, gave him protection. Nobody knew what had become of the grand vizier until after seven days, when he sent a carefully prepared report of his proceedings and the motives for the conspiracy against him to the Sultan by the hand of the British ambassador. The latter explained to the Sultan his opinion of the case, and vouched for Said Pasha as an honest, truthful and loyal man. The Sultan was not convinced, but agreed to accept Said Pasha’s resignation without further proceedings, and gave a formal assurance that if his former prime minister left the embassy and returned to his own home he would not be injured. Lord Dufferin notified the Sultan that the British government would hold him responsible for any injury that Said Pasha might suffer, and that in case of his death not even a plea of sickness would be accepted. From that hour Said Pasha was the safest man in Turkey. The Sultan sent his own physician and two of his most trusted aides-de-camp to live in his house to protect him, and, adopting Lord Dufferin’s suggestion, made an investigation of the charges against him. Nobody knows how he got at the facts, but he executed some of his new favorites, sent others into exile and finally restored Said Pasha to power and gave him his confidence as fully as he ever gives it to any one.

It is said that Shanghai, China, is the dirtiest city in the world, that Peking is ten times as dirty as Shanghai, and that Canton is ten times as dirty as Peking: but Constantinople is as dirty as all the rest of them put together, and the pavements are simply horrible. Yet the Sultan, who has never ridden about his capital, is laboring under the delusion that it is well paved and sweet and clean. Several years ago he took a notion to go by carriage instead of by boat to Seraglio Point upon his annual pilgrimage to worship before the holy mantle of the Prophet Mohammed, and the officers of the municipal government covered the pavement of the streets through which he was to pass with fine sand two or three inches deep. This not only concealed the filth, but made a smooth and comfortable track for his carriage. The Sultan was delighted, and gave instructions to fix all the streets in Constantinople in the same manner, allotting a large sum of money to pay the expenses. The officials took the money and put it in their pockets, and nothing was done to the streets. The Sultan honestly believes that Constantinople is one of the best-kept cities in Europe, and often boasts of that fact to foreign visitors. As he dare not go through the streets to see for himself, and is surrounded by men whose interests and safety require them to maintain the deception, he will probably never discover how he has been deceived. The two great bridges across the Golden Horn, which connect Stamboul, the Turkish town, with Galata, the foreign settlement, produce not less than $2,000 a day in tolls. Every foot passenger is charged a penny, about the same fee as that collected by the ferry companies of New York, and carriages pay ten cents. But of the receipts not more than $100 a day goes into the public treasury. The rest is stolen by people who have charge of the collections. Everybody gets his “squeeze,” from the general manager down to the Turks with white aprons who stand at the entrances and take the money. Curious people have taken the trouble to stand at the approaches to the bridge and count the number of passengers within a certain time as a basis for an estimate of the revenues, and assert that $2,000 a day is a low calculation. It is also asserted that not more than ten per cent of the customs collections goes into the treasury. The balance is stolen by the officials, who receive no salaries and are expected to take care of themselves. Sometimes they get their money out of the importers and exporters by blackmail, because each collector of customs is required to turn a certain amount into the treasury every month, but some of them simply take a proportion of the ordinary receipts and are satisfied with that.

Several propositions have been made to the Sultan to farm out the collection of duties to a bank, which is willing to guarantee him a stated sum in cash annually and take its chances of collecting an equal amount or a good deal more upon the present tariff rates, but the Sultan dare not make such an arrangement because the customs service takes care of so many poor relations and hangers on of his favorites. If he should put this patronage out of his hands they would have to be supported in some other manner. Therefore he declines to have his revenues honestly collected.

Some people think that the Sultan was not responsible for the Armenian massacre in 1896. Others are confident that he ordered it, just as Charles of France ordered the massacre of St. Bartholomew. They believe that he was induced to do so by the representations of the Sheik-ul-Islam and his ministers that the Armenians were on the point of revolution, and there was circumstantial evidence to sustain their claims. There had been repeated massacres by the Kurds and other Turkish barbarians in Armenia, and thousands of Christians there lost their lives and property. When a committee of Armenian citizens went to the Sublime Porte to present a petition demanding the protection guaranteed their countrymen by the Treaty of Berlin in 1878, they were prevented from entering, and attempted to fight their way in, which caused a riot and gave their enemies an argument to secure official sanction for their persecution. But what is known as the “Ottoman Bank Affair” was really the immediate cause of the massacre. It is practically the only bank in Constantinople, and is managed by an Englishman. One morning in 1896, while business was going on as usual, a party of forty or fifty armed men entered the building and closed the doors. The manager, Mr. Vincent, succeeded in escaping. The bank was promptly surrounded by troops, which made it impossible for the bandits to get away with any booty or with their lives, but they threatened to blow up the vaults and to set fire to the building unless they were granted immunity. Mr. Vincent had sufficient influence with the authorities to secure such terms, and during the night after the raid the bandits were taken from the bank to the nearest dock, placed on board Mr. Vincent’s private yacht and carried to Marseilles, where they were put ashore and disappeared. They claimed to be Armenians, but were all strangers. Some people think it was a “fake” raid arranged by the Turkish police to arouse public prejudice against the Armenians. Others think that a foolhardy group of Armenian revolutionists attempted to secure funds to carry on a revolution. But whatever the intent or expectation, on the following day the Sultan was persuaded that unless the Armenian community was effectually terrorized it would overthrow his government. He gave the word, the Mohammedan priests and softas (theological students) led the mobs, and the Turkish fanatics continued to kill Christians until they were exhausted.

There is a multitude of priests, divided into classes and ranks. The lowest is the muezzin, who is a sort of sacristan or sexton at the mosque. He calls the faithful to prayer, but takes no part in the devotional exercises. Softas are theological students—young preachers who make up a fanatical and turbulent class and are the cause of most of the disturbances in Constantinople, as the students of universities often are in other European countries. Next to them in rank are the cadis, who exercise a temporal as well as spiritual jurisdiction, acting as notaries, justices of the peace, judges of the courts and look after the financial affairs of the different parishes and religious orders. There are several religious brotherhoods and orders like the dervishes. The moulahs or regular priests, who conduct the services at the mosques, may be compared with the ordinary clergy in our country. One grade above the moulah is the khodja, or professor of theology, who is found daily at the mosques with a copy of the Koran and other orthodox authorities before him, expounding the faith of the Mohammedans to groups of students and others who gather around him, sitting cross-legged upon the floor.

You can find these groups in every mosque at all hours of the day, and they remind you of the story of Jesus teaching in the temple. The theologians receive fees from their pupils. Another class of khodja expound the Koran to ordinary people very much in the manner of our Sunday-school classes. After the regular prayers are over in the mosques they take convenient places, and those who desire to learn from them squat around in semicircles within the sound of their voices. The lesson or lecture lasts about half an hour. Many of the pupils are business men who are interested to hear and know. Others are poor devotees who scarcely understand the language of the teacher, but listen attentively to everything he says. There is no regularity about the lectures and no stated fees are charged. Those who attend can pay whatever they like. Some of the ablest theologians attract large classes and make a good living. Their incomes are much better than the salaries paid to the ordinary moulahs, or parish priests. Superior to them are the mufti, or bishops, and the Sheik-ul-Islam, or patriarch, the spiritual head of the Mohammedan Church, who often is known as the Great Mufti.

Nearly all of the Moslems in Constantinople are employed either by the church or the state, or are ordinary common working men. They are ignorant and fanatical, dangerous when excited by the priests or the softas, who make the mischief, and are as devout as any people in the world. It is the universal testimony that Mussulmans are more loyal to their religion and more faithful to its teachings than the members of any other church. The pashas and the higher officials of the government wear the European dress with the red fez. The poorer Turks retain the native dress.

A GHAZI—A MOHAMMEDAN FANATIC

While there are doubtless many good traits about the Mohammedans, and, as an old lady said about Christianity, their religion would be a good thing if it were lived up to, it is difficult to reconcile the facts. For example, the Koran and the teachings of the prophet enjoin personal cleanliness as necessary to salvation. The Moslems always bathe before they pray. They would not dare enter the house of prayer with unclean hands or feet or faces. Hence when the muezzin’s call is heard from a minaret five times a day, faithful Moslems go first to the fountains that are found outside of every mosque and bathe themselves. There are innumerable bath-houses also in which genuine Turkish baths and massage are given. At the same time their houses are positively filthy; too filthy, as a rule, for human beings to occupy; and the streets of Constantinople and every other Turkish town are indescribable in their nastiness. The clothing they wear is as dirty as their bodies are clean, and their food is often unfit for sanitary reasons. A true believer will not cut down a tree without planting another in its place. Hence the Turkish forests are in splendid condition. The kindness of the Mohammedan to animals is proverbial. He will not kill a rat and will share his crust with a dog; he will not beat a horse, and, as you have often read, among the Bedouins man and horse always share the same tent. But it is no offense to kill a Christian. Human life is nowhere else held at so low a value.

The Koran forbids the followers of the prophet to charge interest upon loans of money, hence Mohammedans cannot engage in the banking business, and you often hear that true believers never swindle each other; that no Mohammedan ever lies, except where the interests of Christians are involved; that he will tell the truth to his own people.

It is evident that the Turks consider it no crime to cheat a Christian or to tell him a falsehood, and it is a beautiful delusion that Mohammedans never deceive or swindle one another. I have tried to reconcile this generally accepted fable with the notorious robbery of the government. Almost every official of the Ottoman Empire is a Mohammedan. Very few Christians are employed in any capacity, and in no other land on earth is official corruption, bribery and embezzlement so general and common. It is not only known, but tolerated. Few officials receive salaries, and they are expected to make a living by robbing their government and by blackmailing people who have business with it. While there is nothing in precise terms in the Koran to prohibit malfeasance in office, one would suppose that the general laws of morality and honesty, if not patriotism, would be recognized and applied. When I asked an intelligent and liberal Mohammedan to explain this phenomenon he did so without the slightest hesitation. He declared in the first place that the government knew that its officials were robbing the revenues and expected them to do so. Therefore, it was no crime against the laws and no violation of the teachings of the prophet. In the second place, he said, there were bad men among the followers of the prophet as well as among the followers of Christ, and that, “while no man who obeyed the teachings of the Koran and the injunctions of Mohammed would cheat or steal, many sometimes did so under great temptation.”

We are also told that Mohammedans are strict prohibitionists; that they drink no wine or liquor of any kind, and this is more generally true than any of the other statements to which I have referred.

There are plenty of saloons in Constantinople, but they are all found in the foreign quarter. In Stamboul, which is almost exclusively Mohammedan, there are none, and the natives dissipate at coffee-houses, which are as numerous in the Mohammedan districts as saloons in Chicago. The highest joy that a Turk can realize is to sit outside a café, sip a cup of coffee, smoke a nargileh—one of those long-stemmed water pipes—and contemplate the infinite. At least, I suppose that is what the solemn-looking old chaps who sit around on the sidewalk are contemplating. Their faces wear an expression of unutterable wisdom, solemnity and benevolence that cannot be surpassed, and their composure is perfect. A Turk is always composed at a coffee-house, and you would think that his soul was submerged in benevolence. But when he comes to action he is an entirely different sort of a person.

As a rule Turks of the upper classes are very good-looking. Their features are fine, their heads are intellectual and their expressions are amiable. In addition to the coffee-houses water fountains for the benefit of the poor are found on almost every block. When a rich man wants to erect a monument by which he may be remembered, he builds a fountain in a public place and leaves money for its maintenance. When Kaiser William of Germany was in Constantinople a few years ago he ordered the erection of a fountain, which is beautiful in design and of expensive construction. It must have cost him a very large sum of money, and was an appropriate, useful and noble gift. Thousands of men make a business of peddling water, lemonade and sherbet through the streets of the Turkish part of the city, and another praiseworthy custom among benevolent men is to leave legacies to pay for the free distribution of drinking water among the working people. You see many such peddlers on the docks, in the factories and at other places where laborers are employed. They go about with pigskins full of fresh water upon their backs and a dozen cups hanging from hooks in their belts. Anybody can stop them on the street and ask for a drink, which they always furnish with great courtesy, as they are required to do by their employers. If you give them a tip they will accept it, but it is not necessary and it is not expected. The Turks are a very temperate people.

A Turkish gentleman declared that the young men of Constantinople were being led into dissipation because they thought it was “progress”; that fast foreigners had introduced bad habits into the country, including whisky and brandy drinking, and many young Turks had followed their example. The saloons and beer gardens, he said, were intended for, and were generally patronized by, the foreign population—the French, Germans, Italians, Austrians, Hungarians and others—and several liquor stores had been established to supply them.

“Many young Moslems have become intemperate,” he exclaimed, “and it can only be attributed to the bad example of Christians.” The pashas and other public men think it is necessary to serve wine at their houses because it is served to them when they visit the homes of foreigners, and thus the habit is being introduced. The Sultan drinks nothing but water and coffee, although at formal dinners he offers wine to his guests.

“I met a friend the other day,” continued my informant, “who offered me a glass of wine. I declined, saying that my religion forbade the use of wine. ‘So does mine,’ replied the pasha, ‘but God is merciful and I shall be forgiven.’”

One great trouble in Turkey is the disloyalty of the upper classes. The lower classes are fanatical in their devotion to the Sultan and the Mohammedan Church. But it is the office and not the man they adore. They care very little who occupies the throne and will give their lives cheerfully to support and defend him. The Turkish soldiers are great fighters, if well led, and are absolutely destitute of fear because they are taught from infancy that he who dies in defense of the church or the Sultan goes straight to paradise, which is sufficient incentive for them. At the same time the words “loyalty” and “patriotism” do not appear in the Turkish language, and those emotions are almost entirely unknown to the pashas and other persons of high rank who are always striving to excel each other and secure the favor of the sovereign, and the power, influence and wealth that attend it. The foundation of all the trouble is the absolute authority intrusted to the Sultan, who is able to appoint to the highest offices and elevate to the highest rank the most unworthy and incompetent favorite at his court. The Sultan can make and unmake pashas at pleasure, and this precarious tenure of rank and dignity induces them to be so corrupt, so treacherous and envious. Another great source of weakness is the entire absence of anything like justice. If a man is accused before the Sultan by one of his spies or by any informer, high or low, he has no trial and often there is no investigation. In very rare cases the accused has an opportunity to make a personal defense; but in the Sultan’s eyes every man is guilty until he is proved innocent, and the opportunity to submit the proof seldom comes.

A Constantinople photographer to whom I applied for portraits of the Sultan and other public men explained that he was not able to furnish them because the Moslem religion forbade its adherents to make the likeness of anything in the heaven above or in the earth beneath, and that the injunction was strictly observed by old-fashioned and conservative Mohammedans. Being the head of the church, the Sultan thinks he ought to observe it as an example to others. Nevertheless the portraits of his sons have been painted, and you can buy their photographs wherever such things are sold about town. And there are oil portraits of previous Sultans in all the public buildings. On the table in the audience chamber at the Seraglio, is a large quarto volume containing a collection of the portraits of thirty-seven Sultans of the Osman dynasty. In the treasury are a lot of miniatures and several busts in bronze and marble. Statues of several Turkish heroes, including Sultans, have been erected, and hence we must find some other reason why Abdul Hamid will not be photographed. Perhaps it is merely an idiosyncrasy, for he has many.

At the same time public men in Turkey do not have their portraits painted, nor do they have their photographs taken as frequently as those of Christian countries, and it is difficult to buy their pictures. Certain photographs of public buildings, the interiors of mosques, and women in the Turkish costume, are sold only to foreigners. No photographer would dare sell the picture of a woman to a Moslem, because her husband or father would take it as a mortal insult, although he would have no objection to its sale to foreigners, particularly those who take it out of the country. He would consider that a compliment. These notions are relaxing generally throughout the country, like many other of the Moslem habits and customs.

When I was at Constantinople the city was filled with pilgrims on their way to Mecca. They came from all parts of the Ottoman Empire and from the Mohammedan settlements in Russia. One party of 4,000 arrived from Central Asia via Odessa upon special steamers, which carried them to Jiddah on the Red Sea, the nearest port to Mecca. Hundreds of Persians, Kurds, Mongols, men from Turkestan, Afghanistan, Bokhara, Cashmere and other far-off countries had ridden thousands of miles over the desert on this religious mission, and had come to Constantinople for the purpose of paying homage to the Sultan, who is the head of their church. The bazaars and mosques and the streets and public places were crowded with them.

Very few were able to see the Sultan. Their only opportunity was on Friday, when he rides through his park from the palace to the mosque to say his prayers. They knelt when he passed, and afterward kissed the ground over which his carriage had driven. Many of them were men of wealth and property, but did not look it. They were dressed in the fantastic costumes of their races and added to the variety of apparel for which Constantinople is noted.

Every Moslem who can afford to do so makes a pilgrimage to Mecca at least once in his life, for that not only insures the salvation of his soul but advances him in social and religious rank also, and he then becomes a Hadji, a title for which we have no equivalent. It gives him a higher place in the mosque and secures for him certain privileges and advantages which people who have not been to Mecca do not enjoy. Hence it is the ambition of every Mussulman to make the pilgrimage, and millions go every year. The pilgrimages are regulated much better now than formerly. Sanitary rules are enforced, which tend to prevent the plagues that have invariably followed the annual hegira. Formerly thousands upon thousands died from fatigue, starvation and disease, and contagion was carried to different parts of the world by returning caravans. But this no longer occurs. The pilgrimages are so regulated that nowadays they can be accomplished without much danger or fatigue and at comparatively small expense.

The most conspicuous man among the pilgrims was Hadji Sheik Islam, the head of the church in Persia, who was accompanied by his son and three other prominent Persian ecclesiastics. Upon their arrival they were met with great ceremony by the Persian ambassador and the Sheik-ul-Islam of Constantinople. They were guests at the Persian embassy, and enjoyed the hospitality of the Sultan, who decorated them with badges and other honors and conferred upon them his blessing as the head of the church. Their dress is quite picturesque. They wear long tunics, or gowns, of white silk with plaited bosoms and flowing sleeves, and the finest of cashmere shawls as sashes around their waists. Over their gowns were large brown camel’s-hair robes and upon their heads enormous white turbans. The Sheik’s party were men of noble appearance and dignified demeanor and received the homage of the people as if they were accustomed to it.

When a Turkish steamer, carrying 1,400 pilgrims, was about to start for Mecca the Sultan sent orders that no passenger should be charged more than $8 fare, and that those who could not afford to pay should be carried free. When the officers of the steamship company remonstrated he blandly told them to send the bill for the difference to him—an act of generosity which amused everybody who has a sense of humor, for the Sultan of Turkey was never known to pay for anything. The steamship company dared not defy his orders, but after reflection was ingenious enough to partially recoup itself. When the steamer got as far as Beirut, it dropped anchor, and the officers informed the managers of the pilgrimage that they could not go any farther because they had run out of coal, and they could not buy coal because they had no money, the small amount paid by the pilgrims for fare having already been exhausted. The pilgrims appealed by telegraph to the Sultan, who ordered the governor of Beirut to furnish them coal, and he was compelled to levy blackmail upon his constituents to reimburse himself.

The Moslem day is reckoned from sunset to sunset, and is divided into two divisions of twelve hours each. Sunset is always twelve o’clock, and as the length of the day varies throughout the year, Turkish watches have to be altered at least every five days by the official clock, which is set in the tower of a mosque in Stamboul.

The crescent, which is the symbol of the Turkish Empire, was adopted by the Sultan Osman, the founder of the present Ottoman Empire, in 1299. It is said that in the year 340 B.C., when Constantinople was besieged by Philip of Macedon, and was only saved by the timely arrival of reënforcements which Demosthenes sent to its assistance, a bright light in the form of a crescent was seen in the sky and was regarded by the inhabitants as a sign that rescue was approaching. Hence, like the star in the east that was seen by the wise men, it was accepted as a divine revelation, and since then the crescent has been a sacred emblem to the Turks.

III
THE SULTAN AND HIS FAMILY

The present Sultan of Turkey is the most interesting personality among the sovereigns of the world, both for what he is and for what he represents, exercising as he does the functions of an emperor over a semi-barbarous and turbulent people, and spiritual jurisdiction over the most fanatical and numerous of religious sects. He is the ecclesiastical successor of Mohammed, head of the Moslem Church with 200,000,000 believers, and of the house of Ishmael, the son of Abraham, and in his person is supposed to receive and enjoy the blessings which God promised to Hagar. That is one of the most dramatic incidents in Biblical history when, in obedience to the jealousy of Sarah, his wife, “Abraham rose up early in the morning and took bread and a bottle of water and gave it to Hagar, putting it on her shoulders, and the child, and sent her away, and she departed and wandered in the wilderness of Beersheba.” And after the water was spent in the bottle and she had cast the child under one of the shrubs, and lifted up her voice and wept, “The angel of God called to Hagar out of heaven, and said unto her: ‘Arise, lift up the lad and hold him in thine hands, for I will make him a great nation.’”

The Moslem world believes that Abraham was the founder of Mecca; that Ishmael was their ancestor and that they have inherited the religion of Abraham with its promises and blessings, and the characteristic traits ascribed to Ishmael. Their hand has been against every man, and every man’s hand has been against them, and still they defy all other nations, whether pagan or Christian. Padishah (father of all the sovereigns of the earth) is the official title of the Sultan, and is used exclusively by the Turks in official communications. He is also styled Imam-ul-Muselmin (pontiff of Mussulmans), Alem Penah (refuge of the world), Zil-ullah (shadow of God), Hunkiar (the slayer of infidels), and has several other honorary titles. He controls the Mohammedan subjects of all nations, and if he should go to a little mosque at the Seraglio, unfurl the green banner which was carried by Mohammed, and declare a holy war, the sons of Ishmael in every part of the earth—in India, Africa, China, the East Indies, and the islands of the sea—would be required by their religion to sustain him and obey his orders, regardless of their allegiance to their own civil authorities.

Abdul Hamid II., the present Sultan, who was sixty years old in September, 1902, is said to be a great coward who dare not leave his country palace or show himself in his own capital. It is true that the most extraordinary precautions are taken for his protection. He dare not leave the safe solitude of Yildiz Park, which is situated about two miles outside the gates of Constantinople and surrounded by a double wall. The road from the palace to the Bosphorus passes between those walls and is protected every inch of the way from the gates of the park to the wharf on the Bosphorus, where, once a year only, he takes a state barge and is rowed over to the Seraglio to perform the obligation imposed upon him by his religion: viz., to worship the holy mantle of the prophet on the anniversary of the death of Mohammed. That act is required of him. If he did not perform it the whole church would rise against him. Therefore, for that day, he is compelled to suppress his fears and appear before the public; but it would be impossible for an outsider to get anywhere near him unless he were highly recommended and identified. Some people say that his cowardice is cultivated by his ministers and other men who surround him, because they find it to their personal advantage to prevent him from going abroad. So they keep him locked in the Yildiz Kiosk, where they can control his surroundings and prevent him from receiving any information that will be to their discredit. At the same time there is no doubt that the Sultan keeps constantly in mind the fact that many of the twenty-seven Padishahs who have reigned at Constantinople are believed to have died by violence. Several endeavored to save their lives by abdication, but the public never saw them again.

The conspiracies are all among his own people and his immediate attendants—the “outs” are always scheming to get in and the “ins” are always conspiring to maintain their position. There are no political parties in Turkey; there are no political issues. It is all a question of obtaining the Sultan’s favor, and the entire Mohammedan population is divided into two classes,—the ruling favorites and those who have been discarded. The officials and army officers who have been disgraced and removed from their positions naturally desire to recover them, and hate the Sultan because he likes other people better than themselves. The same jealousies prevail among the men of the court as among the women of the harem. The outside population take no interest. They are glad to be let alone. The business community consists of Armenians, Greeks and Jews, with a few Turks. It would not be accurate to say that all Turks are in office, but it is actually true that all the offices are filled by Turks, and as there are not enough offices to go round, those who are left out and compelled to get their living without the aid of the government, are forever conspiring against the Sultan or the grand vizier.

Some curious conspiracies are discovered. One of the most recent, which for a time created a profound sensation at the Yildiz Kiosk and caused the Sultan the loss of considerable sleep, was inspired by a young Turk of high family named Rechad Bey. His father occupies a post of distinction and many of his relatives are employed about the court in offices of responsibility. As a rare favor to the family the Sultan permitted them to send the young man to England, where he attended school for several years and imbibed a great many ideas which do not conform to the present state of affairs in Turkey. In 1901, upon his return, he organized a football club among the young men of his acquaintance and practiced in a vacant lot behind a high wall in the neighborhood of his father’s palace. The detectives, who are always around, discovered that something unusual was going on, and upon making a thorough investigation decided that Rechad Bey had organized a desperate conspiracy against the life and government of the Sultan. He was arrested in the middle of the night. The keys to the garden and the clubhouse were seized, and the most astounding discoveries followed. In the clubhouse were found several footballs, a lot of jerseys and the colors of the club, with shin guards, nose protectors, elbow pads and other paraphernalia familiar to football players. To complete the damning evidence one of the detectives cunningly ascertained that the name of the large elastic bomb which these young men were in the habit of kicking around at each other was the same term as that used by the Turks for a cannon ball. Hence it must be a new kind of bomb or shell, and the police authorities were convinced that they had unearthed an important conspiracy to assassinate the Sultan and blow up the palace. The footballs were submerged in water to prevent their explosion, and the sweaters and the rest of the outfit were carried cautiously to the palace in order that the Sultan might see for himself.

Football has been played for years in Constantinople by the young men of the English embassy and the European colony, and also by the students of Robert College, but the police authorities and the Sultan never happened to hear of it. Hence they knew nothing of the game. When the friends of Rechad Bey learned how serious a predicament he was in they appealed to the British embassy for assistance. One of the secretaries was sent to the minister of police to explain the nature of the game and the uses of the terrible articles that had been discovered at the clubhouse. He unlaced a football without the slightest trepidation and showed the officials how it was made. He put on the nose guards, the shin protectors and the other armor and attempted to convince them of its innocent purpose. But they were still very suspicious. Perhaps their pride had something to do with it, for they insisted upon having Rechad Bey severely punished, and he was bundled off in great haste to Teheran, Persia, where he cannot do anything to aid in the disintegration of the Ottoman Empire.

The Sultan’s advisers tell him that his life is in danger, and are continually discovering conspiracies which never exist. A recent fictitious conspiracy against him was attributed to one of his best and most loyal friends, Fuad Pasha, “The Hero of Elena,” one of the foremost generals in the war against Russia in 1877 and the war against Greece in 1897. Fuad Pasha is an enlightened and honest man and has had the confidence of the foreigners to a degree greater than almost any other of the Sultan’s favorites. Until recently he was so much of a favorite that the Sultan allowed him to hold his handkerchief for the people to kiss, which was a mark of the greatest honor and confidence. He kept Fuad Pasha about his person constantly, giving him the command of his bodyguard; but Fuad in some way offended the detective department, which reported to the Sultan that his favorite was involved with the reformers known as the “Young Turkey” party, and spies were set to watch his house. Fuad noticed strange men about the premises. He probably suspected who they were and what they were there for, but pretended to believe that they were burglars, and purchased a supply of rifles and revolvers, which he placed in the hands of his servants with instructions to fire upon the intruders if they became offensive. This fact was reported to the Sultan promptly, and the vigilance of the spies was increased. A few days later a collision occurred between them and Fuad’s servants, in which several were killed and wounded. Fuad was immediately arrested, taken to the palace, and after an interview with the Sultan was sent aboard the latter’s private yacht, which sailed at once for Beirut without allowing the prisoner to communicate with his family or friends. He is supposed to have been sentenced to exile at Damascus instead of being executed, which is a mark of great forbearance upon the Sultan’s part.

Fuad found plenty of company at Damascus. Several other of the Sultan’s former favorites are there in exile, hopefully awaiting a day when their sovereign will be less susceptible to the influence of his hired spies and detectives and more trustful of his loyal friends and supporters. The great difficulty, however, is in His Majesty’s natural distrust. When his suspicions are once aroused his ideas are always distorted and his confidence can scarcely ever be restored. He is thus driving away some of his most valuable supporters.

In 1901, when the Sultan went to Seraglio Point to worship at the mosque that holds the sacred mantle of the prophet, another funny thing occurred. He was landed at the regular dock, where a carriage was waiting to convey him to the old palace, but he had not proceeded far when he noticed that telegraph wires had been stretched across the driveway along the line of the railroad, and positively declined to pass under them. Nobody knows what was in his mind, or what he thought would happen, but the entire procession was stopped right there, and remained motionless until aides-de-camp had galloped away to summon somebody from the railway headquarters who could climb the poles and cut down the wires. Nor have they been replaced. The Sultan positively forbade it, but the railway officials are supposed to have dug a trench and hidden them underground. If the Sultan learns that fact he may refuse to drive over them.

He is very superstitious about electricity, but is as inconsistent concerning it as he is with everything else. He will not permit electric lights or telephones or electric street cars anywhere in Turkey, although the government has a telegraph line to every important point in the empire, and the Sultan has an instrument and an operator in his private office to receive messages in his own private cipher from detectives and other officials in different parts of the country in whom he has special confidence, or to whom he may have intrusted important business. He maintains a regular system of communication with officials of the empire entirely distinct from and without the knowledge of their immediate superiors. The general of the army and the minister of war do not know what communications are passing between commanders of posts and districts and their sovereign, and the minister of the interior can never be sure what private reports are being made by his subordinates. Thus the mutual distrust that exists between the Sultan and his ministers is not only recognized, but promoted. There are three electric-light plants in Constantinople—at one of the hotels, at the palace of the mother of the Khedive of Egypt on the Bosphorus, and at the palace of Hassan Pasha, minister of marine. There are two private telephone systems, one between the headquarters of the Imperial Ottoman Bank and its branches throughout the city, and the other between the signal-station where the Bosphorus connects with the Black Sea and the headquarters of the Maritime Association in Constantinople. The Sultan will not allow gas or petroleum or other explosives to be used about the palace, although the park surrounding the palace is brilliantly illuminated by gas. His rooms and the other apartments are lit with candles and equipped with beautiful crystal chandeliers. There are several street-car lines operated by horses, and the companies have repeatedly applied for permission to use electricity, but have always been refused. In the street-cars, ferry-boats and other public conveyances there is always a little apartment curtained off for the use of ladies.

Gorges Dorys, author of “The Private Life of the Sultan,” recently published in England, France and the United States, has been sentenced to death. His real name is Adossides. The proceedings are only formal, however, because Mr. Dorys left the country before the manuscript of the book was finished and is now living in Paris. The French government has been asked to surrender him, but has refused to do so. Mr. Dorys, however, will never be able to return to his home. All of the European nations were requested by the Turkish ambassadors to suppress the volume, and the Sultan has been led to believe that his wishes have been complied with all over the world; but nothing has been actually done, except in Sweden, where an attempt to prevent the sale of the book by legal proceedings not only failed but gave it a tremendous advertisement.

Mr. Dorys is the son of Adossides Pasha, one of the former ministers of the Sultan. His father was a distinguished and influential man, at one time governor of Crete and afterwards prince of Samos, a post he occupied until his death. The son spent his childhood and youth about the Yildiz Kiosk, where he had exceptional opportunities for seeing and knowing the extraordinary events of the Ottoman court, and much of the material used in his book is said to have been obtained from the private papers of his late father, which fell into his possession after the latter’s death. Mr. Dorys was correspondent of the London Times at Constantinople for two or three years, and as such made himself familiar with political conditions. He was therefore admirably equipped for the task he undertook, but was unable to suppress his prejudice, and does not give the Sultan credit for his few virtues. The work is both approved and condemned by people in Turkey. Some say that it is accurate and just; others accuse him of being actuated by personal spite. He has at least stirred up the Sultan and his court to a degree of indignation that has not been shown there for many years.

The missionaries say that Abdul Hamid is a bad Sultan, but a good Moslem; that his fanaticism is equal to that of any fakir in his realm; that he is responsible for the persecution of the Christians and for the massacre of the Armenians; that the orders were given by him personally. On the other hand, Americans and Englishmen who are in the habit of visiting the palace and have personal acquaintance with His Majesty, insist that he has many good traits and that he would not be a bad man at all if he lived under different conditions.

When General Horace Porter, our ambassador to France, visited Turkey, the Sultan received him with unusual cordiality and attention, because of General Porter’s former relations to General Grant. When he heard that Mr. Porter had been Grant’s private secretary, it was enough. A carriage from the imperial stable, an aide-de-camp from the Yildiz Kiosk and a military escort were placed at his disposal and all doors in Constantinople were ordered thrown open to him. Few travelers have ever been received with so much distinction, and before he left the city the Sultan gave a dinner in his honor at the palace and decorated Mrs. Porter with one of his most important orders.

It is remarkable what an impression General Grant left during his famous tour around the world. He is remembered with reverence everywhere—in China and Japan as well as in Turkey. The Sultan and the King of Siam, as well as Li Hung Chang, have always quoted him to Americans as their highest authority. His fame and his influence will be everlasting.

Mrs. Porter was entertained in the Sultan’s harem, but that was no unusual courtesy. The wives of the diplomatic corps are often received by the sultanas, who are glad to see them, and any other strangers for that matter, because their lives are very monotonous and their diversions are few. No person may ask permission to visit the imperial or any private harem. It would be considered an insult. If the Sultan or any Turkish gentleman desires foreign ladies to meet his wives he will offer them an invitation, and will either conduct them in person to the harem or send them in charge of the kizlar-aghasi, or chief eunuch, a very important personage, who ranks next to the grand vizier and the Sheik-ul-Islam.

The Sultans have long ceased to contract regular marriages, and the harem is a state institution. Nobody knows the exact number of Abdul Hamid’s wives, but he is supposed to have 300 or 400, who are graded and live according to their rank under the direction of the khasna-dar kadin, or superintendent of the harem. They are from the prominent families of the empire, as frequently the sultanas are able to exercise a powerful influence in behalf of their relatives and friends. When a rich pasha wants to secure the favor of the Sultan he offers him one of his daughters with a suitable dowry as a wife. If she is accepted it is a sign of friendliness as well as a mark of distinction. When the governor of the Circassian province, which is said to have the most beautiful women in Turkey, wishes to please his imperial master, he will send him a handsome young girl as a gift, or when any of his subordinates discover a young woman of remarkable attractions they secure her for the harem just as they would secure a valuable horse for the imperial stables. The Sultan does not always accept such gifts. He is supposed to be very fastidious, particularly now that he has passed the age of sixty years, and is becoming quite as suspicious regarding the inmates of the harem as he is concerning the members of his court. His eldest sister, who is a woman of very strong character and has more influence with him than any other person, looks after the harem very closely, and has sent away a large number of girls whom she considered supernumeraries, if such a term can be used in that connection. It is also understood throughout the empire that His Majesty does not care for any more wives. He has transferred to his favorite pashas several remarkable beauties who have been added to the harem within the last few years. In the summer of 1902 he sent one of the most beautiful to the governor of Damascus to comfort the latter in affliction, as he had recently become a widower.

The ladies of the harem are called sultanas. They enter as slaves, and the younger become the servants of the older and attend upon them until they are promoted. If the Sultan takes a fancy to any one of his wives her fortune is made, for she is rapidly promoted, her allowance for dresses and jewels is increased and, if she bears a child, she can live apart from the rest, as becomes a princess. All children born in the harem, whether of free women or slaves, are legitimate and of equal lineage, and may inherit the throne if they ever become the head of the family.

The daughters of the Sultan are married to favorite pashas and officers of the army. He confers them upon his favorite subjects at pleasure, but they are not always regarded as a blessing. It is assuming a great responsibility to marry the daughter or the sister of the Sultan. They are very exacting and naturally realize their rank and superiority to ordinary people. They are expensive luxuries also, because an imperial princess must live in a certain degree of state.

Ladies of the imperial harem almost without exception wear European dress. Only the most recent arrivals, girls who come from the interior of the country, retain the native costume. The sultanas have French maids and order their gowns and hats in Paris. Every now and then a French modiste or milliner arrives in Constantinople with samples for the inspection of the sultanas, from whom she receives very large and liberal orders. Although they are seldom seen by men, the inmates of the harem have all the feminine instincts and there is a great deal of rivalry among them. We saw one of the Sultan’s favorite wives and her daughter driving in a victoria, accompanied by a negro eunuch and a military escort. They were dressed in European fashion, but were closely veiled so that their features could not be distinguished.

The apartments of the harem are equipped with European furniture. The meals are served in European style and the cooks are French. The French language is spoken generally among the sultanas and they read French novels. Turkish customs are almost obsolete. The traditional harem in which houris sit around upon silk rugs with their legs crossed and play guitars and eat sweetmeats exists only in the imagination. The women live just like any other royal family, except that they are not allowed to receive company or enter society, and when they leave the palace they must wear heavy veils. When the Sultan’s wives are ill they are attended by the male physician of the British embassy. This is also an innovation. Formerly no Christian physician was allowed in the harem. The patients are always veiled when the doctor visits them. Even if they are confined to their beds, strips of mull are thrown over their faces.

Abdul Hamid is the son of Abdul Medjid, who abdicated in 1861 in favor of his eldest son, Abdul Aziz. The latter reigned until 1876, when he was overthrown and his next brother, Murad V., was placed in power. The latter was an impetuous reformer and one of the founders of the “Young Turkey” party, which demands a constitution and a change in the form of government from an absolute to a limited monarchy. When he attempted to carry his ideas into effect his ministers pronounced him insane—and perhaps it was an evidence of insanity to introduce liberal reforms into Turkey—so they shut him up in the Tcheragan Palace, upon the banks of the Bosphorus, where it is supposed that he still resides in seclusion, although no one is bold enough to show curiosity as to his fate in the presence of those who would be apt to know. It was in that palace also that Abdul Aziz died after his abdication. So reliable a witness as the surgeon of the British embassy testified that it was a case of suicide; that the deposed Sultan, in a fit of passion and disappointment, opened the arteries in his arms with a pair of scissors that were given him to trim his nails. But the popular theory is that somebody opened them for him and let him bleed to death. Perhaps Prince Murad may have met with a similar fate years ago. He has not been seen by any competent witness since the spring of 1877, and was then pronounced to be in an advanced state of paresis—a mere idiot—but the circumstance that the Tcheragan Palace has never been opened since, and is as closely guarded as ever, leads people to suppose Murad still survives. But, as I have said, nobody but the confidential eunuchs of the Sultan knows anything about him.

The heir to the Turkish throne is not the son of the Sultan, but his eldest living male relative—brother, son or cousin, whoever it happens to be. This is the law of Islam, and has been a fruitful source of conspiracy and tragedy ever since the Turks have been in possession of the Ottoman Empire. It was formerly customary for a new Sultan to order the immediate execution of all his brothers as soon as he was seated upon the throne; but public sentiment in Europe has forbidden the application of that heroic precaution during the last fifty or sixty years. It is generally assumed that the present Sultan would like to murder his brothers, but dare not do so; hence he keeps them prisoners or constantly under surveillance in the many palaces of Constantinople. They are the most unhappy and wretched of all his subjects. He has five brothers:

Murad Effendi, born September 21, 1840.
Mohammed Reshad Effendi, born November 3, 1844.
Kemel Eddin Effendi, born December 3, 1847.
Suleiman Effendi, born March 12, 1860.
Wahid Uddin Effendi, born January 12, 1861.

GATE TO DOLMA BAGHTCHEH PALACE, CONSTANTINOPLE

Reshad Effendi, the second brother, is therefore the heir to the throne, and, although he has been kept a practical prisoner for twenty years, so that very few people know him, he is said to be a man of refinement, education and integrity, much superior to his imperial brother in intellect and appearance. He occupies a portion of the Dolma-Baghtcheh Palace in Constantinople during the winter months, and during the summer goes to Machla, a suburban town, where he has a farm and a pretty villa. He has never been allowed to leave the immediate vicinity of Constantinople, and his communications with the outside world have been closely restricted by the orders of his brother. He is said to read French readily and to receive the principal newspapers and reviews of Europe that are printed in that language. He is also believed to have been in sympathy and in communication with his brother-in-law, the late Damad-Mahmoud Pasha, who fled to escape a sentence of death for his liberal opinions. This is, however, purely conjecture, because if the Sultan, with all his spies, cannot discover such a circumstance, it would seem impossible for the gossips to learn anything about it.

Prince Kemel Eddin, the third brother, is an invalid, and quite as feeble in mind as in body, with a low degree of cunning and strong animal instincts. He inherits the family tendency to pulmonary complaints. Prince Suleiman and Prince Wahid Uddin are allowed to go about Constantinople more freely than the other brothers, and are quite familiar to the public, better known perhaps than any other members of the family. Both live in handsome palaces and have liberal allowances from the public revenues, which they spend with great extravagance in luxury and vice. Neither Turks nor foreigners seem to care much for them. They have no social position and very few friends.

The Sultan has several sisters. One of them, Djemile Sultana, six years older than he, is a woman of strong character and has a great deal of influence with her brother. She is with him frequently and takes an active interest in public affairs. She has been a widow since 1858, and really has been a mother to him. They were born of the same mother, a Circassian slave, who lost her life in giving him birth, and hence they have naturally been very much attached to each other. The other brothers and sisters are the children of different wives of his father. As previously stated, all children born in the harem, whether of free women or of slaves, are legitimate and of equal rank; but, by the law of succession, the crown is inherited by the senior male descendant of Othman, the founder of the present dynasty in 1299. Therefore, so long as he has any brothers living, the children of Abdul Hamid will not come to the throne.

The Princess Senieh Sultana, another sister of Abdul Hamid, is about fifty years old, and the widow of Mahmoud Pasha, who was the leader of the “Young Turkey” party and for years an active advocate of its principles, regardless of his near relationship to the Sultan. His conspiracies, if they may be called such, were always carried on directly under the eyes of the Sultan, and of course were very offensive to him. Mahmoud was a good man, judged by our standard, but a great traitor and an unpardonable villain from the Turkish point of view. He was educated in France and England, where he imbibed liberal ideas, and, returning to Turkey, married the Sultan’s sister and introduced into his own family many of the customs and ideas which he had acquired in western Europe.

Being anxious that his sons should have a liberal education, he sent them to Robert College, the American Presbyterian Institution on the Bosphorus, just beyond the Sultan’s palace, which was founded there half a century ago by the munificence of Mr. Robert, an American merchant. Mahmoud Pasha himself went to arrange for the education of his boys, and as there were reasons why he did not wish them to form intimacies with the ordinary students, he persuaded Dr. Washburn, the president of the institution, to take them into his own family.

The boys remained there just two days. On the evening of the second day an aide-de-camp of the Sultan summoned them to his presence. They were conducted to Yildiz Kiosk, where they had an interview with him, and were offered commissions in the army. The Sultan told their father that they must be educated according to Turkish ideas and in the Moslem religion. “We have been educated by Turkish scholars, selected by our father, who was a wise and learned man,” he said, “and such an education is good enough for your sons, instead of sending them to be taught by Christian giaours (infidels).” The boys took commissions in the army, but a few months later surrendered them and went to Paris, where they have since resided. By an official edict of the Sultan they have been degraded from their princely rank, cashiered from the army, banished from Constantinople permanently and their allowances cut off. In 1901 their father was also formally banished after he had fled from the city to escape arrest and execution. For several months his whereabouts were unknown. He was then discovered to be living quietly at Corfu, one of the Greek islands. Being compelled to leave there he went to Rome, Geneva, and afterward to Brussels where he died January 17, 1903. His wife, the Princess Senieh Sultana, is supposed to be imprisoned somewhere among the many palaces of the Sultan, to prevent her from joining her sons, as she is known to sympathize with their liberal views.

An elder sister, the Princess Fatma Sultana, died insane in 1892, and the aberration of her mind was a serious shock to the Sultan, who dreads insanity as much as he dreads death—perhaps more. She was the wife of a military adventurer, Nouri Damad Pasha, who was sent into exile and afterward assassinated on suspicion.

The youngest member of the family, the Princess Medie Sultana, is a woman of quiet disposition, about forty years of age, who lives in absolute retirement, and is unknown to the foreign colony of Constantinople. Her husband is Ferid Pasha, an inoffensive but respectable army officer.

Two or three members of the immediate family of the Sultan have given him much trouble, and it is from his own household that he fears most. He trusts nobody. He reigns alone. His ministers are merely his instruments and very few of them have any influence with him, although, of course, he is compelled to depend upon them to carry out his orders and to furnish him information.

Abdul Hamid has ten children—Mehemmed Selim, born 1870; Abdul Kidir, born 1878; Ahmed, born 1878; Mehemmed Burhan, born 1885; Abdur Rahim, born 1892. Zekie, his eldest daughter, born 1871, was married in 1889 to Nur-ed-din Pasha, who occupies a high position in the military department; Naime, a second daughter, born 1876, is the wife of Mehemmed Kemal, another army officer. There are three other daughters—Naile, born 1884; Shadieh, born 1886, and Ayisheh, born 1887.

So far as I was able to find out, the Sultan’s sons are decent fellows, although their horizon is very narrow. None of them have been permitted to travel, as he does not wish them to see anything of the world for fear of weakening their faith in their religion and their confidence in the form of government he maintains. Their education has been intrusted to military officers and Moslem priests, and they will probably turn out as narrow, bigoted and superstitious as their father.

Prince Selim, the eldest son, is more respected than any other member of the family. The fact that there are several lives between him and the throne gives him greater freedom than he would otherwise enjoy. He was born in January, 1870, and is, therefore, thirty-three years old. He has only one wife and keeps no harem, which is a surprising exception in the imperial family. He holds the rank of colonel in the army, and commands one of the regiments of the palace guards. His duties are light, however, and leave him plenty of leisure, which he spends in study with French and German tutors, although I understand that his French tutors were recently dismissed by command of the Sultan, because they were suspected of giving the young man dangerous information. Prince Selim is not intellectual, however; his mind is said to be rather dull, but he is patient and studious and has a retentive memory, which is perhaps better for a man of his position than more brilliant attainments.

Some years ago Prince Selim incurred the enmity of his father because of the use of disrespectful language, and was banished to Bagdad for several months, but was allowed to return to Constantinople under the surveillance of Kiazim Pasha, his maternal uncle, who has the confidence of the Sultan. The relations between the prince and his father have never been fully restored, and there is no confidence between them; but the prince receives a liberal allowance and is allowed to do practically as he pleases, although he is surrounded by spies and is not permitted to leave the city. He seems to be very fond of his wife, who is the daughter of one of the pashas about the court, and of his only child, a little girl now twelve years old.

Ahmed, the third son, who is twenty-four years old, is his father’s favorite, and is studying military tactics under one of the most successful of Turkish generals. He is destined to be commander of the army. Burhan Eddin, who is seventeen years old, is also a favorite and has considerable musical talent. The Sultan frequently introduces him to foreign visitors, and has him perform for them upon the piano. When Emperor William of Germany was visiting Constantinople, the young prince was detailed as one of his attendants, and the members of the Kaiser’s suite took a great fancy to him. He was then only about fourteen years old, but was quite mature, and conducted himself with great dignity. All the princes are educated by French and German tutors.

The Sultan is very liberal toward his family. He is absolute master of the finances of the empire. He is not required to prepare a budget or report his expenditures. The public money belongs to him and he directs its disbursement. He gives each one of his brothers and sisters a palace fully furnished and equipped, and all their household expenses are paid from the imperial treasury. In addition to this each one of them has an allowance of $5,000 a month for pin money. But Abdul Hamid is much more economical than Abdul Aziz, his predecessor, who squandered more than $100,000,000 during his reign without a thing to show for it, and piled up a debt so big that it can never be paid. The public bonds now outstanding amount to over $750,000,000, and the revenues of the government can scarcely pay the interest. The finances of Turkey, like those of other bankrupts, are controlled by a committee representing the foreign bondholders, who receive from the treasury a certain amount of money every month and distribute it among the creditors of the nation.

A Constantinople physician who has had abundant opportunities for studying his case, told me that Abdul Hamid is a victim of neurasthenia, a nervous disease which is a form of insanity, and that his psychological condition presents a most interesting problem, for his symptoms are complex and vary materially from time to time. He is naturally very intelligent, but, living in continual terror of assassination, being afflicted with chronic insomnia, and having a naturally suspicious nature abnormally developed, he has become a monomaniac on the subject of self-preservation. His disposition is gentle, and if he had lived like an ordinary man he might have escaped the disease from which he suffers almost continual agony; but his mistrust of everyone around him has become chronic, and he has developed a cunning that is never at a loss for expedients.

He sleeps only two or three hours out of the twenty-four, and then only when somebody is reading to him, or some orchestra or musician is performing in the adjoining room. Darkness frightens him. Therefore a light is always kept burning in his chamber, and Ismet Bey, grand master of the imperial wardrobe, always sleeps in the same room. Ismet Bey is his foster brother, and probably possesses his confidence more fully than any other man. Because he resembles the Sultan so closely in appearance, it is believed among the gossips of Constantinople that he often impersonates His Majesty at ceremonies and on other occasions where the latter is likely to be exposed to the danger of assassination.

Ismet Bey carries the keys to his desk, his wardrobe and his treasury caskets, and is perhaps trusted farther and knows more secrets than any other man about the palace; but he has no influence whatever with the Sultan and would not attempt to exercise it if he did, for it would be fatal to him. By a lifetime of devotion, as unselfish as any Turk can render, he has demonstrated his loyalty and disinterestedness.

The Sultan is always restless and is awakened at the slightest sound. When he awakes he always wants somebody to talk to, and Elias Bey, second officer of the wardrobe, or Faik Bey, one of his confidential secretaries, is usually at hand for that purpose. The Sultan sleeps in a detached chamber, surrounded by corridors on all four sides, and it is a popular impression that the walls are of steel. Four or five sentinels slowly pace the corridors during the entire night, and if the regular measure of their footsteps is interrupted the Sultan will waken and inquire the cause. In addition to this guard an officer sits at each corner of the corridor, where he can see both ways. In order to prevent a conspiracy, a detail for this purpose is made from among the subalterns of the different regiments about the palace every night. The names are drawn by lot a few moments before the hour and no one knows of his selection until he receives orders to report. These officers have watches of four hours each, coming on duty at sunset and remaining until sunrise. The Sultan is such a light sleeper that he awakens every time the guard is changed.

He is extremely fond of music, and when restless, his orchestra, which is under the direction of Dussap Pasha, is required to play all night, or until orders are sent to relieve them. His Majesty is also fond of theatrical and vaudeville performances and similar diversions, finding them a relief from his perpetual fears. A theater connected with the palace has two troupes of well-paid actors for dramatic and musical performances. One of them is composed of Turkish and the other of French and Italian artists. Foreign actresses and opera singers who visit Constantinople are always anxious to appear before His Majesty, because they not only receive liberal compensation from the master of ceremonies, but, if they happen to please, His Majesty is sure to present them with valuable jewels. Few people except members of the imperial family are permitted to attend these performances. When the Sultan invites one of the ambassadors, as he sometimes does, it is considered a mark of unusual distinction.

The Sultan’s dress is extremely simple and free from extravagance. He wears a military uniform and a campaign cloak such as is worn by the ordinary officers of the army. His jewels, however, are unsurpassed by any of the sovereigns of Europe. When His Majesty requires a new suit of clothes Ismet Bey, his foster brother, is used as a model by the tailor, as he and the Sultan are almost of the same size.

His diet is also very simple. He eats very little, of the plainest food, and never touches wine nor liquors of any kind, but consumes enormous quantities of coffee, which aggravates his nervousness. Up to a few years ago a servant with a coffee pot always followed him when he went out for exercise, and while driving in the park coffee stations were placed at frequent intervals, where he could stop and refresh himself. By the advice of his physicians he now limits himself to five or six cups of his favorite beverage a day, and it is said that he has himself noticed an improvement in his health. He is not so nervous and sleeps better. General Porter, the American ambassador to Paris, told me of a dinner at the Yildiz Kiosk, when the Sultan ate little but American corn bread and soup. His meals are cooked separately from those served to his family and guests, and the same man always prepares them in a little room, like a laboratory, not bigger than an ordinary bathroom. During their preparation an inspector always watches the cook for fear of poison. The food purchased for the Sultan’s use is kept in a huge safe to which his private chef alone has the key. Eggs and milk are the principal articles of his diet. He seldom touches meat, but at dinner usually has one or two vegetables.

Not being able to sleep, the Sultan does not retire before midnight, and is always up by 4:30 or 5 o’clock in the morning, when he puts on a long silken robe, takes a cup of coffee, smokes a few cigarettes and reads his correspondence. About seven o’clock he takes a bath, and then a breakfast of eggs and rolls and more coffee. At one o’clock his luncheon is served, which is seldom more than a crust of bread and a glass of milk—perhaps a small omelet. Although he takes his breakfast and luncheon alone, his dinners are always served with great ceremony. His younger sons, several of his secretaries and usually two or three of his ministers dine with him. The list of his guests is usually made out by the grand chamberlain of the palace and submitted to His Majesty’s approval. The dinner is served at eight o’clock in French style, with liveried attendants and an orchestra in the balcony of the state dining-room, which is a gorgeous apartment. As a formality each course is placed before the Sultan by the chief butler before it is served to his guests, although he never touches it himself, his own food being brought from his private kitchen by his personal attendant. Sometimes he dines in his harem, where his sisters and wives and daughters receive him with great ceremony.

Yildiz, the park in which the palace is situated, is a veritable city, with a population of nearly 5,000, including the members of the official staff and their families, the women of the harem, their slaves and eunuchs, the princes and sultanas, with their households and servants, the chambermaids, aides-de-camp, the imperial guard, which consists of several regiments, musicians, clerks, gardeners, grooms, valets, domestics and other employés, including a number of masons, carpenters and other mechanics. The Sultan has a machine-shop for the repair of machinery used upon the place, an arsenal, which contains several thousand stands of arms for both sport and war, and samples of all patents and styles. He has also a very rich collection of antique oriental arms.

One of His Majesty’s fads is the manufacture of porcelain. He has recently set up a factory in the park and imported a number of French artists, who are making placques and other ornaments. He is fond of wild animals and has quite an interesting zoölogical garden, with one of the best kennels of dogs in the world.

I was informed by a high authority in Constantinople that the Sultan pays $500,000 annually as subsidies to newspapers in Vienna, Berlin, Paris and other cities of Europe to defend him and his acts and create public sentiment in his favor. After the Armenian massacres, a few years ago, he distributed more than $1,000,000 among the newspapers that treated him kindly. Notwithstanding his self-enforced seclusion, he is as familiar with European affairs as any man on the continent, and scarcely anything that appears in print of importance or interest concerning him or his empire fails to meet his eye. His ambassadors and ministers at the different capitals are instructed to secure all press clippings that relate to Turkey and forward them to a central information bureau in Constantinople, where they are classified, translated and arranged for the Sultan’s inspection. He spends a great deal of time reading them and frequently receives important suggestions and information from them.

I was repeatedly warned that every newspaper letter I wrote from Turkey would be read by the Sultan personally. Missionaries and others from whom I obtained information frequently asked me not to publish certain things, because the Sultan was certain to see them and trace them to their source. One gentleman, in giving me an account of a certain enterprise, remarked: “I wish you would say that the Sultan takes a great interest in our affairs. It will do you no harm and will do us a great deal of good, for he is certain to see your letter and will be pleased.”

The largest sums of money expended in purchasing the good opinion of the press are expended in Germany and France, for the Kaiser is the Sultan’s best friend and most reliable supporter, and he is pleased when the German newspapers approve his policy.

Although the censorship in Turkey is very strict, the Sultan is a thorough believer in the usefulness and importance of the press, and in 1886 conceived the idea of founding a great national journal, to be published in the Turkish and French languages and to be for Turkey what the London Times is to Great Britain. He appointed a committee of five of his ministers and secretaries to formulate a plan and prepare estimates of the cost, but when he received a report and found how expensive a luxury his proposed newspaper would be, he abandoned the idea.

IV
THE SELAMLIK

On Friday of each week—the Mohammedan Sabbath—occurs the Selamlik, the one occasion on which the public may see the Sultan, although at a great distance for most of them. The Moslem law requires the head of the church to make a formal prayer at some mosque at least once a week, and Friday is the day naturally chosen. Therefore the Sultan must go, sick or well, to worship publicly. If he could not perform this duty his ministers would dress up a dummy and send it in a closed carriage in his place, because the act of reverence must be performed though the heavens fall. The Sultan has his own little mosque attached to the palace, where he prays frequently and with great regularity, often abruptly leaving his ministers and others with whom he is engaged on business when the cry of the muezzin is heard from the neighboring minaret. No man is more devout or scrupulous in the observances of the ritual in which he believes, and in that way he sets a good example to his subjects.

Abdul Hamid’s public worship is performed at Hamidieh Mosque, a pretty structure within the imperial park and close to the high iron fence which surrounds it, so that those who enter and leave the temple may be seen from the street. There is a large vacant lot, with rising ground, across the road, intended for a drilling ground for cavalry, and on every Friday it is crowded with the carriages of those who are curious to see the Sultan, and are not allowed to approach any nearer to him. Formerly the Selamliks were more public. There was a wooden pavilion, a sort of grand stand for spectators, which was generally crowded by strangers visiting the city, members of the diplomatic corps, and others who were fortunate enough to get tickets, but since the assassination of King Humbert of Italy and President McKinley, it has been torn down and no more invitations are issued, although upon the personal application of the ambassadors the Sultan will sometimes admit foreigners whom they vouch for. Guests are allowed to witness the ceremony from the windows or the roof of the neighboring palace, but no one else is permitted inside the grounds except officials of the government, officers of the army and pilgrims who constantly visit Constantinople in large numbers. The public must be contented with looking through the bars of the iron fence or witnessing the pageant through field-glasses from the tops of the neighboring hills.

We were at Constantinople during the pilgrim season, when faithful Mohammedans on their way to Mecca were arriving daily from Russia and the surrounding states as well as from all parts of the Ottoman Empire to pay their respects to the Sultan, who is the visible head of their church, and to the Sheik-ul-Islam, his vicar in charge of ecclesiastical affairs. They are admitted to the Selamlik when properly vouched for, but the police are very careful to see that no assassin disguised as a pilgrim shall pass the gates. The pilgrims occupy a plot bordering upon the roadway over which the Sultan drives. As he approaches they utter a peculiar cry. It sounds more like a wail than a cheer, and is supposed to express reverence and admiration rather than enthusiasm. It is the salutation of the true believer to the head of his church, but if anyone were to make such a noise at the approach of President Roosevelt or any of the sovereigns of Europe he would be immediately arrested as a dangerous person. When the Sultan has gone by, the pilgrims bow their heads in reverence and afterward push forward and kiss the ground over which the wheels of his carriage have passed. Many of them are venerable men, priests as well as laymen, and as each wears the costume of his country the group usually presents a picturesque appearance and adds much to the interest of the scene. Those with green turbans are descendants of the Prophet Mohammed and constitute a clan of themselves. They have maintained their individuality during all the centuries, like the house of David among the Jews, but it gives them no material advantages. They honor themselves more than they are honored by others. You see laborers wearing green turbans; yea, even the children of the prophet begging bread from infidels.

There is very little to be seen at a Selamlik except the military display. And that is splendid. Nearly the entire garrison of Constantinople, numbering 12,000 or 15,000 of the picked soldiers of the Turkish army, appear every Friday in brilliant and peculiar uniforms, line the roadway over which the Sultan passes, surround the mosque in which he worships and are packed into the grounds until their red fezzes and glistening bayonets light up the entire park. There are regiments of Nubians, Soudanese, Albanians, Arabs, Syrians, Kurds, Turkestanese, Bokharans, Georgians, Circassians and other races unknown to us, which cannot be seen elsewhere. The red fez, white turbans, gold lace, stripes and sashes, white gloves, red and green banners and the glitter of the arms make a brilliant combination, and one must acknowledge that the soldiers of the Sultan are fine-looking fellows, although they may be as wicked and as cruel as represented. They are all Moslems. No Christian is admitted to the army, but every Christian, Jew and Gentile subject of military age is required to furnish a Moslem substitute. There are numerous military bands playing modern music very poorly, and it may gratify Mr. Sousa to know that his marches are as popular in Turkey as elsewhere. The pashas and generals wear dazzling uniforms, covered with gold braid and lace, and other officers, bedecked with equal brilliancy, seem innumerable. The grounds of the palace suddenly become an ocean of gold lace and red fezzes.

When a carriage arrived with a black man upon the box in the footman’s place, we knew it brought ladies from the harem with a eunuch in charge. While all black men are not eunuchs, all eunuchs are black. They are brought from Africa and Arabia when children and are purchased like other slaves. The Sultan’s wives and sisters usually attend the Selamlik, but have their own place in the mosque partitioned off by screens. They cannot even enter the same door with their sovereign master. He must pray alone. Only the Sheik-ul-Islam, the high priest of the Moslems, or some great mufti designated to represent him, is admitted, whose presence is necessary to carry out the ritual.

The guardian of the harem, the kizlar-aghasi, or chief eunuch, who ranks next to the grand vizier and the Sheik-ul-Islam, was present, having in charge four sultanas. Each had her own carriage drawn by white horses and a military escort and was attended by ladies-in-waiting. Three of the Sultan’s sons rode on horseback among the pashas that formed his bodyguard, and another, a little chap about ten years old, had a tiny brougham drawn by ponies similar to that used by Tom Thumb. He was accompanied by his tutor, an officer of the army, and by a little aide-de-camp of his own age, a miniature imitation of those who attended his imperial father. The little prince was in the uniform of a colonel of the army, wearing a sword and baby revolvers, and his aide was dressed to correspond.

Another carriage, one of the latest arrivals, was occupied by a little girl—one of the Sultan’s daughters, attended by a woman with unveiled face, wearing a violet satin gown. Hence we knew her to be a foreigner and were told that she was the little sultana’s French governess. We noticed that she sent one of her attending eunuchs with a coin to a crippled beggar who caught her eye outside the gates.

After the carriages came two covered vans like those used in the United States to move furniture. They backed up to the entrance of the mosque and discharged a lot of rugs, chairs, chests and other things that were carried inside, but I could not find out what they were for or why they should be delivered just at this time. Then a squad of servants in long white robes came out of the mosque, washed the marble steps and dried them carefully with cloths, after which they spread a long rug that reached from the gravel roadway to the vestibule, so that His Majesty’s feet might not touch the vulgar earth, and fastened it down with brass rods. Then appeared a dozen carts loaded with sand, which was sprinkled along the roadway to absorb the moisture and deaden the noise of the wheels. When these preparations were complete the notes of a trumpet were heard in the distance—the signal that the Sultan had left the palace and was on his way. A white-robed muezzin with a big turban appeared upon the balcony of the beautiful minaret and gave the conventional call to prayer, only his cry was louder and the wail more prolonged than usual. Two columns of pashas and generals in brilliant uniform, on horseback, appeared around the curve, riding slowly, and when the leaders reached the steps of the mosque they opened ranks, facing each other, and formed an aisle for the Sultan to pass through. They were an additional guard for his safety.

The general of the army, a stern-looking man with an intellectual forehead, large gray eyes, a Roman nose and a grizzled beard, mounted upon a magnificent charger, next appeared, surrounded by his staff. Formerly Osman Pasha, the hero of the Russo-Turkish war, held this position and attended his sovereign regularly each Friday until his death. Closely following him, surrounded by a squad of officers running on foot, came a low carriage drawn by a pair of beautiful white horses, in which sat Abdul Hamid, the Sultan of Turkey and the successor of the Prophet of Islam. On the opposite seat was the minister of war—one more precaution—and it is said that the standing order to the bodyguard is to shoot down that official instantly in case an attack is made upon the Sultan. He is held responsible for the safety of his imperial master, and if the protection provided by him proves inadequate his punishment is death. Riza Pasha, the present minister of war, is a large, fat man, so large that the diminutive figure of the Sultan looked very small by contrast. Abdul Hamid is slight of stature and weighs only 135 pounds. He looks like the late Jay Gould and the late Matias Romero, for many years Mexican ambassador to the United States. He wore a shabby military overcoat and a red fez. His face is very melancholy. His eyes are large and have a wandering look. He is said to be the saddest man on earth, and he looks it. An escort of young officers on foot followed the carriage, the Sultan’s aides-de-camp and secretaries, and as the pageant proceeded everybody saluted and bowed. The crowd outside the gates cheered, but were not very enthusiastic. The Sultan’s eyes took in everything. They surveyed the scene with extraordinary rapidity. His officers say that he never overlooks anything that is amiss. He can see where a button is off the coat of a soldier as he rides by.

The imperial group was followed by an empty phaeton drawn by a pair of white horses with gold-mounted harness and half-blankets of leopard skin, and also by five saddle horses—the most beautiful animals you ever saw—so that the Sultan could choose among them if he should take the whim to ride back to the palace from the ceremony. As he passed the pilgrims he bowed to them several times. When he reached the mosque he stopped upon the steps, turned around, faced them and bowed and bowed again, while they uttered the peculiar wail that I have described. He then entered the vestibule, followed by the minister of war and several of his aides.

While the Sultan was at prayer strips of matting were unrolled upon the pavement, and the pilgrims, swarming out, kneeled upon it with their faces toward Mecca and went through their devotions, a priest leading them. This continued for half an hour or so, until the Sultan reappeared, got into the phaeton, took the reins in his own hands and drove back to the palace surrounded by his aides-de-camp and secretaries on foot, who are compelled to run at full speed to keep up with him. This pageant is witnessed every Friday, but it is conducted with so many safeguards and precautions that the military display is not seen at its full effect.

There is no particular place for the burial of Sultans. Each Sultan usually builds his own tomb, according to his own taste and extravagance, but throughout the city may be found several turbets, or tombs, containing the bodies of one or more Sultans with their favorite wives beside them. The graves are covered with plain cenotaphs of stuccoed brick four or five feet high and seven or eight feet long, draped with covers of black broadcloth or velvet, exquisitely embroidered with silver or gold, and upon them are usually several cashmere shawls of the very finest texture, fabrics of priceless value, gifts and tributes from neighboring kings and governors. Distinguished men, Sultans and others, are buried in the different mosques, the most sacred being that of Eyub Ansari, the standard-bearer and most intimate companion of the Prophet Mohammed, who was killed by the Arabs at the siege of Constantinople, A.D. 668. His burial-place was revealed in a dream to a celebrated priest during the attack of Mohammed II. upon Constantinople, and its discovery inflamed the fanaticism of the Turkish soldiers to such a degree that their next attack upon the city was irresistible. After the capture Mohammed II. erected the mosque of Eyub upon the site of the grave, and it is held so sacred that no Christian has ever been allowed to enter the gates of the walls that surround it, or even to live in the neighborhood. It is a beautiful building of white marble, with a large dome, two small domes and many semi-domes, and two graceful minarets. It stands on the banks of the Golden Horn about five miles from the city, and upon the accession of a new Sultan a ceremony corresponding to the coronation of a Christian sovereign takes place there. After performing an elaborate service of prayer the new Sultan is girded with the sword of Osman, the founder of the dynasty, by the superior of the dervishes. The sword of Osman always lies upon the tomb of Eyub, constantly watched by relays of the priests and monks who have charge of the temple. The tomb is of silver gilt and elaborate workmanship, covered with a cloth of gold, surrounded by a high gilt railing and overhung with many costly lamps.

At the village is a factory in which are made the fezzes worn by the soldiers of the Turkish army.

A STREET OF CONSTANTINOPLE

V
THE CITY OF THE GRAND TURK

Poets, painters and other people with vivid imaginations and emotional natures have become ecstatic in describing the city of the Grand Turk, and while it has unique and exquisite attractions, it is no more beautiful than New York or San Francisco, Rio de Janeiro, Naples, Hongkong or half a dozen other cities I might name. There is none of the barbaric splendor, the gold and purple and blue and scarlet of Moscow, as seen from the Sparrow Hills; nor the fantastic pagodas and temples of Kioto or Peking. It has none of the quiet dignity of Stockholm or the soft beauty of Naples, but the colors that are lacking and the gorgeousness that is invisible is readily supplied by the imaginations of tourists, who generally see what they expect to see, no matter whether it is there or not. You find the same trouble in Holland and Spain after reading the books of D’Amicis, and at Venice after studying Ruskin. Perhaps it is the fault of the observer, who lacks sufficient sentiment, but when you begin to dissect the scene and separate the actual from the imaginary the criticism of practical minds is sustained.

The continents of Europe and Asia are separated by the Sea of Marmora, which is 110 miles long and 40 miles wide in its widest part. At the west end it is entered through the Hellespont or Dardanelles, a deep and swift stream or strait, about as wide as the Hudson River. The place where Leander swam across to visit Hero, his sweetheart, and where Lord Byron imitated his example, is only about three-quarters of a mile wide, and although to swim it was a prodigious feat in those days, it would not be more than an ordinary adventure to many members of a modern athletic club.

At its east end the Sea of Marmora is connected with the Black Sea by the Bosphorus, a channel similar to the Hellespont. These streams, which form a remarkable boundary between the continents, have always been regarded of great strategic importance, and from the time of Alexander the Great to Alexander II. of Russia have been fought for by rival nations.

Where the Bosphorus joins the Sea of Marmora there is a little bay, about half a mile wide at its mouth, growing gradually narrower and curving like a cornucopia for about three miles through the hills to a point where it receives fresh water from a little stream. This bay is called the Golden Horn. Between the Golden Horn and the Sea of Marmora is a tongue of land similar in size and shape to Manhattan Island, upon which New York is built, except that it is higher in the center. This ridge, or “hog’s back,” rises about five hundred feet above the water, and at intervals is broken by gullies, several of them very wide and deep,—gashes that have been cut into the soil by water. This ridge or tongue of land is occupied by the old city of Stamboul, and upon the extreme point, corresponding to Battery Park, New York, is located the Seraglio, a group of palaces occupied by the Sultans before the nineteenth century. An imposing marble gate, by which the grounds are entered, is the ancient Sublime Porte, and from it is derived the title by which the Turkish government is often referred to in history and diplomatic discussions. The modern Sublime Porte is a still more imposing marble gate which leads into an inclosure where are situated the palace of the grand vizier, the ministry of finance and other official departments of the government.

The Sublime Porte, Mosque of St. Sophia
THE SERAGLIO, CONSTANTINOPLE

Upon the opposite side of the Bosphorus, situated to Stamboul as Jersey City is to New York, is Scutari, a city of residences, schools, hospitals, military barracks, carpet factories and other manufacturing establishments, with a population of about 50,000. It is surrounded by a group of fertile hills, which in the spring and summer are covered with brilliant foliage.

Upon the opposite side of the Golden Horn a steep hill, rising directly from the water, is occupied by the city of Galata, corresponding to Brooklyn. Its houses and shops are arranged in terraces along precipitous slopes to a height of five hundred feet; and on the other side of the crest, which slopes to the Golden Horn, is the city of Pera, which means “beyond”—that is, the place beyond the hill.

This completes the group of four cities, which, combined, are called Constantinople, and from the bridge which connects Stamboul and Galata, or at any other point between, they are spread out before the spectator like an audience in an amphitheater, rising in irregular terraces and showing patches of whitewashed walls among unpainted, wood-colored houses, shingled roofs and occasionally a roof of tile. Here and there appear squatty domes like warts, queer-looking towers and slender minarets, which are peculiar to Constantinople and are its greatest attraction. The domes indicate mosques and occupy the summits of the hills. Their ugliness heightens the beauty and grace of the minarets by which they are surrounded. The minarets take the place of church steeples and the campaniles or bell-towers that are usually attached to cathedrals in southern Europe. They look very slender and very tall, rising often to the height of three hundred feet—delicate, beautiful shafts, perhaps twenty feet in diameter at the bottom and gradually tapering to a needle point at the top, upon which a golden crescent is always placed. About the center, overlooking the roofs of the houses and the adjoining streets, are balconies, sometimes only one, sometimes two, and, on the taller minarets three, protected by beautifully carved balustrades and sustained by brackets, from which the muezzin calls the Mohammedans to prayer. In Constantinople most of the minarets are of marble and other stones, as they were built by rich Sultans as monuments to their own memory, but elsewhere such structures are of brick, coated with stucco, and kept neatly whitewashed. Whatever may be said of the Moslem, his houses of worship always show evidences of careful and constant attention. You seldom see a slovenly mosque and seldom a mosque out of repair. They set an example to other religious sects in this, as in several other matters.

The view from any place of observation will comprehend nearly all of the city of Constantinople except, of course, those portions which are on the opposite side of the ridges. I do not know of any city of which so much can be viewed from a single point. Standing upon the bridge that crosses the Golden Horn, one can easily see the abodes of two-thirds of the population spread out before him. But the view is monotonous. There is a lack of variety about the architecture which is very tiresome. One house differs from another so little that the eye becomes weary and rests gratefully upon the picturesque towers and the beautiful minarets that rise here and there in striking relief. Several conspicuous buildings stand out boldly. These are the embassies of Russia, Germany and other European Powers on the Galata side and the government offices in Stamboul. The largest buildings, and those which are most conspicuous in every direction, are occupied as barracks by the Sultan’s army. There are no parks, no promenades, no amusements, no theaters except one which is insignificant, and no entertainments or diversions for the people except a few low-class vaudeville performances.

The streets are irregular, narrow and crooked and wind up in serpentine or zigzag fashion to the top of the town. It is evident that they originally followed the trails of goats, which, unlike the buffalo, are poor engineers. The straight streets are so steep that no load can be hauled up them, and many of them are actually stairways, with small shops on either side. In building the city no grading was done and no filling. The natural topography was allowed to remain unaltered, which, while it adds to the picturesqueness, is a permanent embargo on business. Horses cannot be used for transportation purposes because the streets are too narrow and too steep and the pavements are too rough.

There are a few carts and a good many donkeys with panniers upon their backs, but heavy freight, like lumber, bales of merchandise and such things are carried from one place to another by men. It is a common thing to see eight, twelve or sixteen men with long poles staggering under a load of dry goods, hardware, iron rails or timbers for the construction of houses. They can carry their cargo only a little way without stopping to rest, and as long as they are engaged, block the entire street. No carriage can pass them, and even a donkey finds it difficult to creep by. You will appreciate the difficulty of doing business with these embarrassments, and will not be surprised that the commerce and internal trade of Constantinople is less than that of the average German or French city of one-fourth its population. More business is done in New York in one day than in Constantinople during the entire 365.

There are no sidewalks except upon a few of the principal streets, and they are very narrow. The houses are high—five, six and seven stories—without elevators, and are divided into tenements, the ground floor being occupied in most cases for business purposes. The architecture is indifferent where it is not ugly. Most of the city is built of wood, unpainted, and the cheapest kind of construction; much of it being in an advanced state of dilapidation. Some of the houses in the principal residence quarter remind me of those on the West Side in Chicago, the wooden façades being covered with “ginger-bread work,” balconies, loggias and other architectural frills. In the Turkish quarter there is even less of architectural interest. Only occasionally can a Moorish design be seen or any building of the oriental type. You can follow some of the longest streets from one end to the other without finding a window or a door or a roof or a balcony that looks like what you expected to see in Turkey. When the lower sash of the window is covered with fixed lattice work you may know that it is some Turk’s harem. The houses occupied by Greeks, Armenians, Jews and Europeans have ordinary windows and no blinds, and as only about one-fourth of the population of Constantinople—the estimates are generally less—are Turks, and three-fourths are foreigners, you should not expect anything but what you see, and must swallow your disappointment.

There are other reasons, in addition to the topography, why the houses are so cheaply and indifferently built. All foreigners are in Constantinople on sufferance and the investment of money is unsafe. When a foreigner erects a house he takes great risks and naturally does not wish to spend any more upon it than is absolutely necessary. Furthermore, an evidence of prosperity would immediately attract the attention of the officials, who are all Turks, and the assessment for taxation would at once be raised. The Turkish officials receive little if any compensation from the government, and are obliged to turn into the treasury for the use of the Sultan and his court certain sums of money annually. This money and whatever they need for themselves must be raised by whatever measures they can manage, and, as they have autocratic powers, it is easy for them to make good their quota. If they see a man, particularly an Armenian or a Jew—they do not care so much about Greeks—showing signs of prosperity and wealth, they make preparations to bleed him, and the methods they adopt are usually successful. The population of Stamboul around the Seraglio is mostly Turkish, and beyond that Armenian and Jewish. The inhabitants of Galata are mostly Greeks, and those of Pera are English, French, Germans and subjects of other European Powers.

Landing at Constantinople is an exciting experience. The ships anchor out in the stream, and passengers, with their luggage, are taken ashore in rowboats. No traveler is allowed to land without a passport. If he is a resident of Turkey he must have a permit granted by the police officials of the town in which he lives. If he is a foreigner his passport must be viséd by the Turkish consul or minister at the port of his departure.

When the steamer comes to anchor the gangplank is at once surrounded by a motley crowd of boatmen, howling like a lot of demons and grabbing at the luggage of the passengers. If you have not a courier to look after you and your belongings the best thing is to give yourself up to Cook, the traveler’s friend and protector. If you have written ahead to engage apartments at any of the hotels a dragoman, or interpreter, will be sent down to meet you and help you through the custom-house, but Cook’s men always come aboard, not only at Constantinople but at all the eastern ports, and are a blessing to the inexperienced.

As each boatload passes towards the landing-place it is stopped in midstream by a policeman seated in the stern of a Turkish caique, or canoe, who counts the number of passengers and the number of pieces of baggage. What this is done for I was unable to discover, but the most reasonable theory is that it is intended as a checking system for the police, in order that no stranger shall enter the country without their knowledge.

The guidebooks, which are closely censored by the Turkish government, so that they may not contain anything offensive or treasonable to the Sultan, state very plainly that couriers and dragomans from the hotels can “arrange” with the customs officers so that the inspection of luggage will be only formal. The only thing that they are after is books. Their orders are very strict in that respect. They are positively forbidden to pass any books, newspapers, manuscripts or sealed parcels, all of which must be submitted to examination by the censor, who destroys all works pertaining to the Mussulman religion, the personality of the Sultan, the foreign relations or the internal affairs of Turkey. Guns, revolvers and that sort of thing, which are prohibited in most countries, are admitted without objection in Turkey. We were advised to conceal all our guidebooks, notebooks, manuscripts and that sort of thing in the bottom of our trunks in case of an emergency, although our dragoman, or guide, said he did not think any of them would be opened. When they were landed and carried into the dilapidated and dirty old wooden building of one story used for a custom-house, all the trunks, bags and rug rolls were arranged in a row upon a bench and the dragoman proceeded calmly to negotiate with the inspectors. How much he paid to pass them I do not know, but it was not a large sum, and we were soon sent on our way rejoicing.

The baggage of passengers leaving Constantinople is examined quite as closely as that which comes in, and the same process occurs. The customs officers often demand larger bribes from outgoing than incoming travelers, and will threaten to detain their luggage if the money is not paid.

The same corruption and the same practices exist in other branches of the custom-house, only to a greater extent. Imported merchandise is seldom inspected. Merchants doing business in Constantinople usually have a regular arrangement with the customs officials to admit their goods without examination upon the payment of certain sums, which cover both the customs duties and the bribes. These practices must be known to the higher officials, because nearly all of them have been promoted to the positions they occupy, and they require a certain amount of revenue from each inspector or appraiser every month. The latter must raise it the best way he can. There is a regular tariff, of course, and fixed rates of duty for different kinds of merchandise, but it is seldom observed, even in the case of strangers.

All travelers in Turkey must have tezkerehs, or traveling permits, which are granted upon the application of the minister or consul of the country from which they come, and are an acknowledgment on the part of the Ottoman authorities of their responsibility for the safety of the bearer. Natives have ordinary passports, but no man can land at a port or buy a steamship or railway ticket without showing a document of this kind, which not only is a protection to the traveler, but also gives the police authorities an opportunity to watch suspicious persons.

The United States diplomatic and consular officials in Turkey receive almost daily applications for certificates from Armenians who claim to be naturalized, but there has been so much fraudulent naturalization that they no longer issue them unless they are satisfied that the applicant is a bona fide citizen of the United States stopping temporarily in Turkey. Certain Armenians in New York, San Francisco and other cities for years did a fraudulent naturalization business, and for large fees obtained papers for Armenians in Turkey who had never been in the United States. It is an easy thing for a man to make application in any of the courts under any name, and again make a second or third or fourth or repeated applications under other names later without being detected. When the papers are issued they are forwarded to Turkey to the persons whose names they bear, and the latter use them whenever necessary. Not long ago such fraudulent papers were abundant in Turkey, but many of them have been taken from the holders and retained by the United States officials. When a man claiming to be a naturalized citizen of New York cannot tell the name of the street upon which he lives and does not know the location of Brooklyn or Jersey City; who never heard of Washington, Grant, McKinley or Roosevelt, and cannot give the name of the long street which runs from one end of New York to the other, it is pretty certain that he is not entitled to the protection of our government, but has abused its hospitality by obtaining naturalization papers under false pretenses.

Constantinople is the seat of the Sheik-ul-Islam, the ecclesiastical head of the Moslem faith, and also the seat of the Patriarchs of the Greek and the Armenian churches, and of the chief rabbi of the Jews. Every other religion has its representatives among the population, which is more cosmopolitan than that of any other city. It is claimed that there are in Constantinople representatives of every nation and every tribe upon the globe, and that every language is spoken. It is common to see signs written in eight or nine languages on the fronts of the retail shops. These races and religions are all more or less antagonistic. There is nothing to unite them. Each suspects the other of treachery. They have no relations, except in trade, and in their commercial dealings they are all trying to cheat each other.

Everybody lives in a state of constant apprehension, in a vague dread of danger, and there is good reason for it, because the hand of Ishmael is still against every man.

No census has ever been taken of Constantinople, and the population is unknown. Estimates range all the way from 875,000 to 1,250,000, and the latter figure is probably somewhere near the truth, judging from the dense manner in which the people are huddled together and the enormous area covered by the city. The floating population is very large. Thousands of men are constantly coming and going, spending a portion of each season in the city and the remainder of the year in the provinces of Turkey or in some neighboring state.

According to religious belief the population is supposed to be divided somewhat as follows:

The city is divided into ten municipal circles or wards, which, combined, constitute a vilayet, whose affairs are directed by a prefet, assisted by a mejlis, or council, and a large staff of officials. Each municipal circle has a director and is subdivided into precincts which are governed by mudirs. The prefet, or governor, is a despot, responsible to no one but the Sultan and exercising absolute and unquestioned authority over the lives and property of his subjects. Men disappear and their property is confiscated at his orders, and no questions can be asked. He regulates the taxes, receives the funds and disposes of them without a question. The mudirs and other subordinates carry out his instructions and trust him to stand between them and the Sultan. The priests and monks of the Moslem Church must be taken into consideration always, as they are the most powerful body in Constantinople, and their influence over the people is undisputed. The Sheik-ul-Islam, the head of the church, stands next to the Sultan in power and authority and the prefet and mudirs are careful never to offend him.

The Armenians at one time were the most important part of the business community, but since the massacres in 1896, when at least 5,000 of that sect were butchered and their property looted and confiscated, they have been exceedingly cautious, and at present very few of the 250,000 Armenians in Constantinople are doing business under their own names. Some of them have gone into partnership with Turks, paying the latter a certain percentage of the profits of their business for protection and the use of their names. Many of the old shops of Armenian merchants now have Turkish signs over the doors, for which privilege, however, the owners have to pay a heavy blackmail. Since the massacres every Armenian has been discharged from the employ of the government and very generally from the employment of private Turks. Before 1896 and as far back as anyone can remember, Armenians held the most important subordinate positions under the government because of their executive ability, particularly in the financial department, where they are very strong; but now the vindictiveness of the Turk against them is so violent that the name of Armenia has been stricken off the map and that province is known as Upper Turkey. The custom-house officers will not permit the importation of maps bearing the name Armenia. If any such are found they are confiscated and burned, and every book containing the name Armenia is blotted by the censor.

The Greeks, who are next in numbers, are also business men and now have the largest share of the mercantile trade in their own quarter of the city. Although Turkey was recently at war with Greece and the rivalry between the two countries is bitter, there is no hatred or prejudice against them. The same is true of the Jews. Both races live at peace with their Turkish neighbors, and are allowed to worship God in their own way without interference, and are never compelled to endure such persecutions as have been suffered by the Armenians for centuries. The explanation of this is that Greeks and Jews never meddle in politics, while the Armenians are continually doing so. Furthermore, the province of Armenia has been in a state of discontent for many years, and its inhabitants are constantly exciting revolutions against their oppressors—usually with very bad judgment and no possible prospect of success. Palestine is just as much a Turkish province as Armenia, but its inhabitants submit to the despotism under which they are born, while the Armenians will not.

Half the Greeks and Armenians in Turkey have lost their own languages because they have been forbidden to speak them. Without practice they have forgotten their native tongues. The Jews have been more kindly treated. The Armenians are compelled to worship in secret. Greek churches can be found in every part of the Ottoman Empire as public as the Mohammedan mosques, and no Jewish synagogue is ever interfered with by Moslem mobs. It is the Armenians that they attack exclusively.

The ferry-boats which run to all parts of the Bosphorus are very much like those on the Thames in London and on the Seine in Paris. They have time-tables, which are posted in convenient places and published in the newspapers, but are seldom observed; no one knows why, except that it is the nature of the Turk. A boat which is advertised to start at nine o’clock may go ten minutes before or twenty minutes after. The guidebooks warn people not to rely upon the published announcements. The boats to Brussa, a neighboring town much frequented by tourists, the guidebook says, leave daily, “some time between 7 a.m. and 8:30 p.m., according to circumstances.” In other words, their movements depend upon the cargo, the number of passengers and the whim of the captain.

The railway management is very much the same. While I was in Constantinople, in the spring of 1902, a small section of the track between that city and Budapest was washed away. The trains going west returned to Constantinople, but the trains coming east from Budapest and Vienna were not notified of the obstruction and were allowed to start as usual and accumulated at the washout, where there were no accommodations for the passengers, no place for them to eat or sleep. When the cars were finally sent back to Adrianople, the nearest town, the passengers were compelled to pay full fare to that point. The mails for several days were allowed to accumulate at the washout and were held there for nearly three weeks, when they might have been taken back a few miles to Adrianople and sent around by another route, via Bucharest, but no one seemed to have thought of it, although such accidents and interruptions of traffic occur every year. Passengers by the Orient express, which is the most expensive train in the world, were allowed to leave Constantinople and were carried to the washout. Tickets were sold to London, Paris, Berlin, Vienna and other distant points and full sleeping-car fare was collected and all tickets are limited to one day—the date stamped upon them. The railway company would not extend them or refund the money or give rebates, and even compelled the passengers who were carried to the blockade to pay, not only the regular fare, but what is termed a “speed supplement” charged upon express trains, and also the full sleeping-car rates. Those who attempted to secure a rebate or the return of their money were calmly informed that it was not the practice of the railway company to redeem its tickets, and persons who started for London and other places by the first train after the break was repaired were compelled to buy new tickets and pay again the regular sleeping-car charge and the “speed supplement.”

A gentleman who purchased a ticket from Vienna to Constantinople was compelled to turn back at Sofia, about half way on his journey, and asked the railway officials to redeem the unused portion. They refused to do so on the ground that he had given no reason why it should be done. He replied at once that he had been met by a telegram stating illness in his family which required him to postpone his journey and return to Vienna, and asked that the money he had paid for the ticket be refunded or the time limit be extended, so that he could use it at some future date. The railway officials calmly replied that they did not consider the reason given sufficient.

VI
SCENES IN CONSTANTINOPLE

Experienced travelers have often asserted that the representatives of a larger number of races and more picturesque costumes can be seen upon the bridges of Constantinople than anywhere else in the world, and those who have watched the throngs that are continually passing to and fro on foot, on horseback, on donkeys, in carriages and in sedan chairs are inclined to believe the assertion. There are two bridges across the Golden Horn, about one mile apart. Both are pontoons, strips of planks laid upon iron floats or caissons, and were intended to be temporary. The erection of a permanent bridge across the Golden Horn between Stamboul, the principal and most populous Mohammedan quarter, and Galata, where the foreigners live, has been frequently proposed and plans have been repeatedly submitted, but no engineer or bridge company will undertake the job without a large payment in advance, and there is never any money in the Sultan’s treasury. Several companies have been organized to construct bridges, but have never been able to obtain permission, and a multitude of promoters have sought concessions for that purpose from time to time, but there is no sign of a permanent bridge. The old floats still remain and answer every purpose, not only being a means of communication for a million people, but landing places for ferry boats, pleasure steamers, private yachts and other small craft upon the Bosphorus. The caissons are immense rectangular casks of iron sixty by thirty by twenty feet in size. They are chained together, with passages between so as to give free flow to the water. About the middle of the channel there is an arrangement by which two of the floats can be detached and brought around out of the way so as to allow the passage of vessels, but this always was a very slow process and interrupted traffic for half an hour or more. Hence a regular time is appointed for the passage of vessels, and from four to six o’clock every morning the gateway is opened, and those who do not avail themselves of that opportunity have to wait twenty-four hours. Upon the caissons a frame of timbers sixty feet wide has been laid and planked over. Sidewalks for foot passengers are reserved, but pedestrians take the roadway quite as often, and from six o’clock in the morning until nearly midnight the bridge is thronged by two endless streams of humanity passing both ways. At either entrance are groups of toll collectors wearing long white tunics to distinguish them from the rest of the public, and they hold out their hands to receive the coppers from people who walk and people who ride. Everybody has to pay except the high officials of the government—usually great, fat pashas, who are identified by the livery of their coachmen. The toll is about one cent for foot passengers, two cents for mounted persons and ten cents for carriages.

It would take many pages to describe the different classes of people that may be seen upon this wonderful bridge, and the catalogue would contain representatives of every race and religion under the sun. Their costumes afford a very interesting study. Those who are familiar with the oriental races can identify them readily and tell you where every man comes from. Many of the women are veiled, with long mantles and black shawls over their heads. Some of them wear a sort of mackintosh belted in, altogether unlovely and ungraceful, which is the intention. The idea of wearing a veil is to make a woman as hideous as possible, and the Turk succeeds in that purpose, if in no other. The ladies who are not veiled are either Greeks, Armenians, Jewesses or other foreigners. All the women of Constantinople, except Turkish women, wear European garments and ordinary hats. Turkish women of position always ride attended by a eunuch or a mounted escort, because it is not proper for them to appear alone in a public place, even if they are veiled, and the etiquette of the country forbids men to accost veiled women. If such a thing should be noticed there would be a mob in an instant, for every Moslem in sight would consider it an insult to his mother, his wife and his sister—in fact to all their sex. Few men dare assist a veiled woman even if she should stumble, or even pick up a package if she should drop one, for fear his courtesy should be misconstrued. The first caution offered to strangers in Constantinople concerns this matter of national etiquette, and it is often wisely bestowed. To take no notice whatever of veiled women is the safest thing a stranger in Constantinople can do. Women who do not wear veils are not included in the category, for they are not Mohammedans and may be treated with ordinary courtesy. Some of the Armenian women are beautiful and are richly dressed. The Greek women have dark eyes, thin lips, and dress with Parisian taste. In certain parts of Constantinople very few veiled women are to be seen. On the Grand Rue de Pera, the principal shopping-place of the European quarter, where most of the tradesmen are French and German, they seldom appear.

Each side of the bridge is lined with peddlers, selling all sorts of things and crying their wares in stentorian tones, and beggars who crouch under the railing, holding out their hands in a piteous manner and appealing for baksheesh. The priests of the Mohammedan Church wear white wrappings around their fezzes as a badge of their profession. Persians wear black fezzes, often made of lamb’s wool or astrakhan, while the other races have different head-dresses. The Greeks wear stiffly starched white petticoats of cotton about the length of the skirts of a ballet-dancer, with white leggings, embroidered vests and jackets with long, flowing sleeves. The dervishes wear long black caftans or cloaks, which reach to their heels like the frock of a Catholic priest. You see all sorts of priests. They seem to number next to the soldiers, who constitute almost one-half of the passengers to be seen upon the bridge.

Many of the carriages and the horses are fine, although not equal to those to be seen in St. Petersburg. The mounted officers dash through the crowd in the most reckless manner, without regard to the lame or the lazy, and the donkey drivers do not seem to care whether they run over people or not, although they are extremely careful not to injure the mangy mongrels that lie around on the bridge, as they do everywhere else. Upon the bridge can be bought from peddlers almost anything a human being can want, because they are constantly passing back and forth, offering their wares. The number of peddlers in Constantinople is estimated at 75,000.

The water-front of Constantinople, instead of being devoted to docks, warehouses and other facilities for shipping and commerce, is occupied by the palaces of the Sultan and the pashas. There is one short quay reserved for the landing and embarkation of goods, not larger than a single pier in New York harbor, or the space between two of the bridges over the Chicago River, and every article of merchandise that is brought into Constantinople or is shipped out of the city, including the luggage of passengers, must be handled in that narrow space. A little narrow-gauge manpower railway track runs along the edge of the water and terminates at the custom-house, through which all goods must pass. There are no bonded warehouses, and imported merchandise must be taken out at once upon arrival and the duty paid.

Upon the graves of the dead in the Turkish cemeteries little vessels of water are placed for the benefit of the birds, and some of the marble tombs have basins chiseled out for the same purpose, the superstition being that birds carry messages about the living to the dead, and, like everybody else in Turkey, are suspected of being spiteful unless something is done to win their favor.

Upon entering a Mohammedan mosque the hat is kept on, but the shoes must be taken off, for “the spot on which thou standest is holy ground.” Hence the Turks have their boots made with double bottoms. A sort of slip like the new-fashioned rubber sandals fits over the toe as far as the instep and the sole of the shoe and is held on by a band passing around the heel. A little brass point projects at the heel, which is convenient in kicking them off.

The Turks use beads for conversational purposes as well as to count their prayers. The ordinary ritual of the Mohammedan faith requires thirty-six prayers and sixteen quotations from the Koran, and the full ritual embraces ninety-nine prayers. If a mistake is made it is necessary for the worshiper to begin at the beginning and go over the whole list again. Hence he is very careful to check off each prayer that he utters and each quotation that he repeats. Most of the prayers are very short, however, and consist of the same meaning expressed in different phrases: “Allah is great. I testify that there is no God but Allah, and Mohammed is his prophet.”

At several points in Constantinople saddle-horses as well as carriages are kept for hire, and they are much more convenient for certain parts of the city, where the streets are narrow and the grades are steep. The owner or the man in charge sends a boy along to bring the horse back.

The number of people who speak English is quite remarkable, but all orientals are great linguists. They seem to have a faculty for picking up languages that is not enjoyed by Anglo-Saxons.

Turkish rugs are sold by the bale as they enter the custom-house, and the purchaser has no opportunity to examine them. He must take them as they come—good, bad and indifferent, old and new, coarse and fine, perfect and ragged. The week’s arrivals are usually put up at auction on Monday morning. The greatest number of rugs comes from the interior of Asia and is brought down to the ports of the Mediterranean and Black Sea by caravans of camels and shipped to Smyrna and Constantinople, which are the great markets. They are packed so many to the bale by sizes, and if the purchaser knows the name of the seller and the place from which they have been shipped, it gives him a slight basis upon which he can estimate their value; but it is always more or less of a lottery and hence the rugs bring much less than their actual worth. The sellers might make a great deal more money if they were not bound by this ancient custom.

The dogs and the firemen of Constantinople are famous, and always excite a great deal of interest among tourists. There are two popular errors regarding the dogs—that they are ferocious and dangerous, and that they are the city scavengers and have a contract for cleaning the streets, which last is equally false. The dogs are wretched, harmless, cowardly curs, which never bite unless abused or driven into a corner, and then only in self-defense. They bark continually, however, particularly in the night, and newcomers will be disturbed in their rest for two or three nights until they become accustomed to them. In this respect, as in several others, they are great nuisances.

So far as street cleaning is concerned they undoubtedly contribute more filth and unhealthiness because their work as scavengers is limited to rooting and scratching around for morsels of food in the offal and other débris, and thus they keep it stirred up when it would be less offensive if it were let alone. In that offal the dogs find their subsistence, and they number tens of thousands. Thus their existence is precarious. Each street has its own band, which is very jealous of intruders, and when you hear a tumultuous barking you may be sure that some stranger has strayed into a section where he does not belong and is being evicted. The dogs are ownerless. There may be a few high-bred animals kept in the houses by private owners, but the great mass of them have no home but the street and no owners but the public. They are allowed to live for superstitious reasons. The Moslem inhabitants look upon them as a religious institution, as the protégés of the prophet, and while they do not give them any care they would not injure them under any circumstances for fear of bringing misfortune upon themselves. A Mohammedan hackman or cartman would sooner drive around the block than run over a dog. He will get down from his box and wake up a cur that lies sleeping in the middle of the street rather than drive over it, but usually flicks his whip gently to remind it that it is in the way. The animal, being awakened, yawns and stretches itself in an indifferent manner and then slowly moves towards the sidewalk. The children are taught to be merciful to them and to believe that they are under the special protection of the prophet.

The butchers throw their scraps into the street every morning at a certain hour, and the dogs that belong in that locality are always on hand to snatch their share of the morsels. Bakers cut up stale loaves and toss them out in a similar way. Hotel and boarding-house keepers are equally thoughtful in putting out their garbage cans, but nobody ever offers the dogs shelter or attempts to cure them of the mange, with which the majority are afflicted. Many of them are repulsive sights. They live entirely upon the streets, each dog having some shelter of its own during the storms of winter, where it leaves its litters of puppies until they are old enough to look out for themselves. When they die their bodies are left lying in the road or are kicked out of the way by pedestrians. They are mostly yellow, coarse-haired, wolfish-looking beasts, with long tails and pointed ears. The guides say that the number is diminishing because the waste places in which they formerly basked and bred are being rapidly built over; but other authorities claim that this is a mistake and that the number is increasing. A stranger would assume that the latter is the case, because they seem so numerous and occupy so large a part of the narrow sidewalks and streets. It is not safe to kick them out of the way because you would be sure to disturb a colony of fleas which might take refuge upon your own person, even if the cur did not turn and snap at you. Old residents will tell you that it is not good policy to kick a dog, because some Moslem might see the act and resent it. The natives are so accustomed to their presence in the streets and to their nocturnal barking and howling that they take them as a matter of course, like the other nuisances of the city.

The animals have a high degree of intelligence. They know their rights and insist upon them, and the manner in which each cur holds and defends his own territory is remarkable. The occupants of the same street never quarrel with each other, no matter how numerous or how hungry they may be, but lie curled up in bunches on the street corners in a most affectionate manner. But let a strange animal appear in sight and every one is on the alert instantly. There is a scurrying of feet, a series of low growls, a rush towards the intruder and then a tumult of barking and yelping and shrieks of agony from the injured. It may end in a dogicide. It usually does. The intruder is not often allowed to escape alive and his mangled body will be found afterwards in the roadway.

Abdul Azziz, predecessor of the present Sultan, was a great reformer and, among other reforms, proposed to exterminate the dogs. Policemen were sent around with poisoned meat, which was scattered freely throughout the city, and the next day the streets were blocked by dead dogs, which were not removed, but their bodies were allowed to lie and fester in the sun. Instead of attributing the epidemic to the unquestionable cause, the superstitious Turks construed it as the penalty pronounced upon them by the prophet for the massacre of the innocent. Since then no further attempts have been made to exterminate the curs, which have been held more sacred than ever. There is a story to account for the presence of the dogs in Constantinople. It is said that in the Middle Ages their barking awoke the garrison of the city and warned it of the approach of an enemy, so that it was able to make a successful defense. At that time, the legend goes, the reigning Sultan issued an order requiring all dogs to be held sacred, as the prophet had made them the vehicle of the Divine will.

FIRE BRIGADE, CONSTANTINOPLE

Sometimes I think the firemen are more interesting than the dogs. Fires are of frequent occurrence, and often very destructive, because the greater part of the old city is composed of wooden dwellings, which are very dry and burn like tinder when a flame is once started. Great precautions, from the Turkish point of view, are taken to protect them, but they are only ludicrous to those who are familiar with modern fire departments in our cities. Watchmen keep a lookout day and night from three commanding spots which overlook the roofs of the entire city—the Galata tower in the foreign section, the Serasker tower in Stamboul, the Mohammedan city, and another tower upon a high hill on the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus. Cannon are fired from the last-mentioned place as a warning to the public and a notice to the firemen, but at the other towers large balls made of bamboo and painted a brilliant red are hung out in the daytime, and a red balloon at night with a number of flags of different designs, like signals from a ship, which indicate to the firemen the section of the city in which their services are needed.

Upon these towers watchmen with telescopes are always on guard, walking around the balcony and carefully inspecting every roof within the limits of their vision. When a suspicious sign is discovered there is a consultation, and, if it appears to be a fire, half-naked runners are started to give an alarm through the streets and the signals are hung out. The runners yell at the top of their voices the locality where the fire has been discovered. The firemen, who are in waiting at their various headquarters, strip themselves to a shirt and a pair of drawers, seize hand engines, which are carried upon their shoulders, and start at full tilt for the point of danger. They are spurred to a high rate of speed because of rivalry between the different organizations. The first to arrive is apt to get the job of extinguishing the conflagration, but as they receive no pay from the government, the owner of the house must bargain with them and make the best terms possible before they will do anything to save his house. Usually the neighbors, whose property is also in danger, are required to contribute baksheesh before the pumping begins.

The engine is a small affair, which can easily be carried upon the shoulders of four men running at a high rate of speed. Others carry the hose, while the nozzle is handled like the baton of a drum-major by the captain of the company, who leads the group of runners through the streets crying “Yangin var!” in brazen tones. A company on its way to a fire is a novel sight, and everybody rushes out to join in the excitement. When the scene is reached the confusion is even greater. Men, women and children plunge into the burning building to seize and save or steal whatever can be reached. The police usually stand by and watch the spectacle with admirable composure. They never think of interfering, because their religion teaches them that misfortunes of all kinds are penalties imposed by the prophet to punish sins, and hence the houses of none but wicked people ever catch fire.

Pigeons are sacred in Constantinople. No true Moslem will kill a pigeon, and in certain parts of the city they are found by the millions. One of the most sacred temples is called the Pigeon Mosque, because of the number of birds that live there. They are so numerous that the air is often dark with them. Rich people leave legacies to pay for their food. At all of the mosques peddlers are found who sell corn for the faithful to offer to the birds, and it is regarded as a religious sacrifice. The superstition against killing pigeons is based upon the belief that the Holy Ghost inhabits the body of a pigeon, and none can be put to death without a fear of sacrificing the right one. The pigeons at the Bayezidiyeh, or Pigeon Mosque, which was built in 1497 by Sultan Bayezid, are said to be the offspring of a pair bought by him from a poor woman in the market near by and presented to the priests of the mosque. These pigeons are under the special protection of several priests, who feed them regularly, and every Friday at eight o’clock in the morning distribute food to the dogs that live in that quarter. The scene is very noisy and exciting. The dogs know the dates and appear promptly upon the appointed morning every week, but woe to the stranger cur that attempts to sneak in for a share. He is disposed of without mercy, for the legitimate tenants of the district know each other as accurately as if each had been furnished with a copy of a census. This food is distributed in obedience to a legacy left by a Turkish tailor, who died sixty or seventy years ago with a provision in his will for feeding the dogs on Friday, which is the Mohammedan Sabbath. Beggars, hungry, ragged and diseased, often appear when the dogs are fed and try to snatch morsels of meat from them if possible, but it takes a great deal of courage to do so. The uproar is tremendous. For half a mile around the barking and yelping can be heard, but the inhabitants of the neighborhood are accustomed to it.

At the mosque of St. Andrew, Constantinople, which is in charge of the dervishes, hangs an iron chain which is said to have the power of detecting deceit and dishonesty, and believers who are accused of theft or falsehood often demand the right to be tried by that test, which is usually accorded them. If they are guilty it is indicated by the vibration of the iron. If they are innocent the chain remains at rest. A curious story is told of a Jewish debtor who falsely claimed to have paid his obligations and demanded to be tried by the chain. Before taking his station he asked his creditor to hold his cane, and handed him a hollow staff, in which was concealed the exact amount of money that he owed him. The chain, recognizing that the money had been passed, declared him innocent—which showed that it is influenced by technicalities like many other courts.

There are in Constantinople one hundred and eighty khans—immense stone barracks of two stories covering entire blocks and inclosing square courts which are usually ornamented with trees and fountains. These khans are all very ancient, the oldest having been erected in the time of Constantine and still being used. They are intended for the entertainment and accommodation of traveling merchants, who are provided by the government with lodging and sample-rooms in which to display their wares. Each khan is in charge of a steward, who is the master of everything under its roof, the representative of the Sultan and the government, and the superintendent of a gang of workmen who are employed about the place. A merchant from Persia, Russia, Turkestan or any other part of the earth, having goods for sale, may apply to the steward, and, if an apartment is vacant, is furnished with one or more rooms in which he can sleep and live and receive his customers for a certain length of time without paying rent. If there is no demand for quarters he may retain the rooms indefinitely. Attached to each khan are restaurants and eating-houses at which the occupants may live, but many of them prefer to cook their own meals. Some bring servants with them. The khans are the scenes of constant bustle, dealers in all kinds of merchandise continually passing in and out, and although most of them are dark, damp and uncomfortable, they have contributed a great deal to the commercial importance and activity of the city. Men from the country who are in the habit of trading in Constantinople always go to the same khan, where they are known and expected, just as we have our favorite hotels in the cities we are accustomed to visit. But the khans are open to all merchants, of whatever quality, condition, country or religion.

The tradesmen and artisans of Constantinople still maintain guilds, which prevailed elsewhere throughout Europe for centuries until modern methods of commerce and industry caused them to dissolve by making them unnecessary. The primitive condition of affairs in Constantinople, however, makes them of supreme importance, and they are maintained with the greatest energy and exactness. There were formerly about six hundred different guilds, but by consolidation the number has been reduced to two hundred and seventy-five, which are registered at the office of the minister of the interior and represent a membership of two hundred thousand. They are managed very much like the trades unions of the United States, and no artisan, mechanic or skilled workman can obtain employment in Constantinople without carrying a card of membership in some guild. The workmen are graded according to their ability and accomplishments, an idea which it seems to me could be adopted with advantage by the labor unions of the United States, which recognize no difference between skill and incompetence, and demand the same wages for every man regardless of his power of production.

The Turkish guilds are governed by a president and council, and their funds are derived from the revenues of property owned and fixed contributions, which are chiefly expended in charity, in assistance to sick brethren and to the widows and orphans of deceased members. The discipline is good, the organizations are thorough and extensive, and the public have long since adapted themselves to their conditions. The butchers’ guild is said to be the richest, and owns several million dollars’ worth of property; the bakers and carpenters are the most numerous. The subdivision of trades is amusing. There is a guild of the makers of straw-seated stools, who at some time or another seceded from the guild of the makers of straw-seated chairs and organized independently. There is one guild for barbers who have shops, and a separate guild for barbers who go out to serve customers at their homes or places of business and work upon the public streets. These are the most numerous of the barber guilds, because it is the fashion for men to be shaved at their coffee-houses or their homes or offices, and itinerant barbers go about like bootblacks in our cities. Each guild has a patron, usually some notable scriptural patriarch, but I have not been able to ascertain how this happens. Adam is the patron of the bakers; Eve of the women who work in the Turkish baths; Abel is the patron of the shepherds; Cain of the grave-diggers; Enoch of the inkstand-makers; Noah of the shipwrights, which is perfectly natural and proper, and Elijah of the tailors who make fur coats.

The most interesting places in Constantinople are the bazaars of Stamboul, and they are peculiarly Turkish. They cover entire blocks, divided up into sections by narrow streets or corridors, vaulted over so as to protect from the weather the little booths or shops which line them on both sides. These shops consist of a single room, perhaps fifteen by twenty feet in size, seldom larger, without windows or doors. At night the front is closed with heavy wooden shutters held by iron bars. Around the walls of the interior are shelves upon which the stock of the merchant is stored, and it is very limited, scarcely more than samples of many articles in the same line of trade. One dealer will have nothing but silk shawls, another nothing but calico prints, a third nothing but fezzes. The business is all divided and dealers in the same line of goods occupy the same quarter and sit cross-legged in their shops waiting for customers. Several hundred merchants are found in each of the bazaars, who pay a small rental to the government and are under the control of a superintendent appointed by the minister of the interior, who is supposed to keep the alleys clean and preserve order. Ladies of wealth seldom go into the bazaars to trade. Articles which they wish to purchase are sent to their homes.

There are miles and miles of these little shops, through which one may walk for hours without crossing his own path, glittering with diamonds and other precious stones, ivory and mother-of-pearl, costly perfumes, marvelous carvings in ebony and other cabinet woods, embroidered slippers and jackets, jeweled pipes, necklaces, rare brocades, furs and leather, Persian and Indian shawls, Damascus silks, Bokhara table covers, hammered brass and copper, metal pots and vases covered with inscriptions, porcelain of all kinds, and an infinite variety of articles new and old. There is no fixed price for any article, and a dealer would be disappointed if you purchased at the first figure demanded, because it would prevent him from showing his ability at negotiation. Residents tell you that you must not pay more than half the price asked, and must dicker until the merchant comes down to your figure. If he does not do so you must walk away, when he will certainly follow you and tell you that you may have it at your own price.

There are second-hand dealers in some of the bazaars, and during the month of Ramazan, the Mohammedan Lent, the Turks, who live from hand to mouth, are so much in need of money that they sell their most precious possessions, and careful buyers can pick up wonderful bargains among the second-hand dealers. The ladies of the harems are especially anxious to obtain money at this season to celebrate the approaching feast of Bairam, which corresponds to our Easter, when everybody is supposed to appear in a new dress. When they cannot obtain the money from their husbands they send their servants to the bazaars with jewelry, embroideries, rugs, silver plate and other articles of value, which are sold for almost anything they will bring. On Friday the Turkish stalls in the bazaars are closed, on Saturday all the Jewish stalls, and on Sunday those of the Christians, the Armenians and Greeks.

A certain portion of the bazaars is given up to auction sales, which are very noisy and confusing. It is often impossible for a newcomer to understand what is going on, because the buyers are not contented with shouting their bids once, but keep up an exchange of repartee with the auctioneer as loud as they can yell, which reminds you of the Board of Trade in Chicago. Sometimes in the middle of an auction the hour of prayer will arrive, and the faithful Moslem, who imitates the Pharisees of the Saviour’s time, never neglects his devotions. He will kneel down in the auction-room, in the street or in any other place when he hears the muezzin’s voice, and go through his prayers without regard to publicity.

A friend tells an interesting story about an auction he attended not long ago, in which an English lady was bidding for some rugs. There was a little hush in the confusion, of which she took advantage to ask the auctioneer whether her bid was standing or not. “Yes,” he replied, “yours was the last bid, and I shall knock the carpet down to you in a few moments unless that Moslem who is now saying his prayers offers more.” As Moslem prayers take a long time, the other bidders became impatient and urged the auctioneer to go on. The praying buyer, however, heard the conversation and clutched hold of the rug, but went on bowing his head to the ground and muttering his prayers faster than ever. When he finished he put in another bid, and the carpet was knocked down to him.

VII
MOSQUES AND PALACES

St. Sophia is one of the great churches of the world, ranking next to St. Peter’s at Rome in magnitude, majesty and beauty. Three churches of the same name have stood upon the site of this celebrated sanctuary. The first was built by Constantine the Great, completed by his son and successor, Constantius, and dedicated with great pomp on the 15th of February, 316 A. D. The second, which rose upon the ashes of the first, was built by the Emperor Theodosius and dedicated in 415. It was burned during the sedition in 532, and the present edifice was erected by Justinian the Great, after five years and ten months of labor, and was dedicated on Christmas day of the year 537. Constantinople was then the center of the world and the headquarters of the Christian Church, and it was the ambition of that great emperor to embody in this building an expression of his adoration for and devotion to the omniscient and the omnipotent God, to place before the world a symbol combining all things beautiful, all art—then rescued from paganism—all riches, all human thought and skill as a tribute to the Creator. Justinian sought architects, artists, decorators and workmen in every land, and his biographers say that his authority enabled him to choose the most competent and skillful of all mankind to execute the noblest of human enterprises.

The entire world contributed material. As was the custom in those days, the pagan temples were stripped of their treasures to adorn the sanctuary of the true God. The shrines of Isis and Osiris were despoiled to do it honor; the temple of the Sun at Baalbek, of Diana at Ephesus, of Minerva at Athens, of Phoebus at Delos and of Cybele at Cyzicus were robbed of their pillars and columns and adornments of marble and gold. Solomon’s temple at Jerusalem was searched for architectural glories, and every quarry in the civilized world was seized and made to contribute. The wonderful columns of dark green marble which support the galleries came from the temple of Diana at Ephesus, eight columns of dark red porphyry came from the temple of the Sun at Baalbek, other columns under the galleries were formerly in the temples and the palaces of the Cæsars at Rome. The walls of St. Sophia showed the finest specimens of material and handicraft in existence, and the magnificence and variety surpassed all other structures. Every species of marble, granite and porphyry that was considered of any value in the known world is said to have been represented in the construction, and the decorations were of corresponding magnificence.

The altar was more costly than gold, for it was composed of a variety of precious materials imbedded together in gold and silver and incrusted with pearls and jewels, and its cavity, which was called the sea, was set with diamonds, rubies and other costly stones. Above the altar was a tabernacle upon which rested a golden cupola and a golden cross weighing seventy-five pounds, which, it is said, was so thickly veneered with diamonds and other jewels that the gold could not be seen. The seats of the priests and the throne of the patriarchs, arranged in a semicircle behind the altar, were of solid silver. The doors of the temple were of ivory, electrum and silver.

We do not know the cost of this wonderful edifice, except that it weighed heavily upon all classes of the community, for every soul within the dominions of the emperor, which then comprised the civilized world, was compelled to contribute. Finally, as it approached completion, Justinian, who stood by, clad in a cotton tunic, to encourage the hundred thousand workmen, stretched out his arms to Heaven and exclaimed:

“Solomon, I have surpassed thee. God be thanked, who has esteemed me worthy to complete this work.”

And he dedicated it to Divine Wisdom.

The Archangel Michael is said to have been the architect, and revealed the designs to Justinian in a dream. Celestial visitors frequently descended to inspect the progress of the work, and, according to the legends of the time, it could not have been accomplished without them. When the building was approaching completion Justinian ran short of money, whereupon an angel appeared, and, leading the mules of the treasury into a subterranean vault, loaded them with eight thousand pounds of miraculous gold, which relieved the situation. When a dispute arose between the emperor and the architects as to how the light should fall upon the altar, the angel appeared again and instructed them to arrange a corona, or circle of windows, and dedicate three of them to the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.

It is claimed that the dome was the first of the kind ever erected, but that is a misrepresentation, for the Pantheon at Rome was built many years before. The dome rises over the center of the church to a height of one hundred and seventy-nine feet and is one hundred and seven feet in diameter. The dome of the Pantheon is one hundred and thirty feet, those of St. Peter’s at Rome and Santa Maria at Florence are each one hundred and twenty-six feet, and that of St. Paul’s at London one hundred and eight feet. The interior of St. Sophia is oval in shape, the greatest length being two hundred and fifty feet and the narrowest one hundred feet, with aisles and recesses of eighty feet on either side, making the entire width from wall to wall two hundred and sixty feet. There are one hundred and fourteen columns, forty supporting the galleries and seventy-four the dome. One hundred architects were employed as superintendents, under each of whom were a thousand men, including masons, carpenters, laborers, decorators and others.

Externally the building is very ugly—a mass of irregular blank walls and domes painted a hideous yellow with black stripes, reminding one of a convict’s garb. But the interior is majestic in its beauty, and, according to a famous architectural authority, “is the most perfect and the most beautiful church ever erected by any Christian people.” The chief charm of the interior is its massive simplicity and perfect proportions. It is almost entirely without ornamentation, except the mosaic work upon the walls and ceiling. All the flat surfaces are covered with mosaic laid upon gold. Compared with St. Peter’s at Rome it is as empty as a barn. There are no tombs, no statues, no altars, nothing to obstruct the view in any direction; nothing to conceal the graceful outlines of the arches and the simple coloring of the walls, which is a soft yellow, nearly as deep as an orange and traced with different dark shades of green. I heard a young American critic remark that there was “nothing to see in St. Sophia,” which is almost strictly true, in comparison with the other great churches with which we are familiar. There is a beautiful balcony for the Sultan to occupy in case he should come to St. Sophia to worship, and he would be sheltered by gilded screens. The mihrab, which corresponds to the altar in Roman Catholic churches and indicates the direction of Mecca, towards which Moslems turn in prayer, is a simple recess unadorned, and near by is the mimber, or pulpit. In St. Sophia, as in all mosques which have been secured to Islam by the power of arms, the preacher still mounts the pulpit with sword in hand and hangs out a flag as a symbol of victory and conquest.

The floor of the entire mosque is covered with Turkish rugs of the richest texture, and at intervals of six or eight feet wooden troughs made of undressed lumber stretch across the entire area. These are for the convenience of worshipers and for the promotion of neatness, and when one selects a place to kneel and pray he drops his shoes into a trough. The rugs are divided into sections, plainly marked, so that the faithful cannot have any excuse for crowding each other. At two large fountains they can perform their ablutions before beginning their prayers, and above them is the sensible admonition: “Wash thy sins and not thy face only.”

Nine gates lead into the temple. Over the central one, by which the emperor entered, is painted an open book on a reading desk, surmounted by a dove with outstretched wings. Upon the pages of the book are the words: “I am the door of the sheep. By me if any man enter in he shall be saved, and go in and out and find pasture.” In the tympanum above is a mosaic, also dating back to Christian times, representing Christ upon the throne, with the words: “Peace be unto you. I am the light of the world.”

The Mohammedans have retained most of the ornamentation of the Christians, and even here and there a cross is permitted to remain, although most of them were chiseled off centuries ago. There are also several relics of Christ which they refuse to return to the Christians. The most interesting is a cradle of red marble, said to have been used by Jesus, and a basin in which He is said to have been washed.

St. Sophia for fifteen hundred years has been the theater of some of the greatest and most solemn ceremonies in history, and was particularly associated with the Crusades. On one of the piers in the nave is the mark resembling the imprint of a bloody hand, said to have been made by Mohammed II. as his war charger stood upon the bodies of Christian corpses on the day of the capture of Constantinople by the Turks.

All around the mosques are tombs, schools, baths, fountains, shops for the sale of chaplets and other religious articles, hospices for pilgrims, kitchens for the poor and a theological seminary with several thousand students.

The Sultan has many palaces, all of them constructed by his predecessors. He has built none himself, although he altered the Yildiz Kiosk, in which he lives in seclusion, and modernized it a good deal. Most of his palaces are occupied by his seven brothers and sisters, his three married children, and other relatives. Only two of the palaces are ever seen by strangers, and those can be entered only with a permit from the Sultan himself, to whom application must be made with the endorsement of your ambassador. Dolma-Baghtcheh Palace, an enormous mass of glittering marble, with gorgeous gates and a pretty garden around it, stands not far from the city on the European side, and Beyler-Bey, on the Asiatic shore. If exquisitely carved marble, carved wood and gilding, mosaics and mirrors, crystal chandeliers and gorgeous frescoes, priceless rugs, tapestries, gilded furniture and divans upholstered in costly damask, all in a prodigality from which taste is excluded, constitute an ideal palace, Beyler-Bey excels.

BEYLER-BEY PALACE, CONSTANTINOPLE

At a distance the exterior, shown against the woodlands and the grassy plateaus of the Asiatic shore, makes an exceedingly pretty picture, and Dolma-Baghtcheh as a mass is imposing. When you come to examine the details you wonder without admiration at the lace-work doors, the massive gilt columns, the barbaric domes and the Saracenic arches and a crystal staircase, which must have cost an enormous sum of money. Everything about the place is of the most costly material. The bath and toilet-room connected with the Sultan’s apartments, which is shown with great pride, is lined with slabs of alabaster—floor, walls and ceiling—and the tub is of the same material. There are wash-basins in nearly all the reception-rooms made of onyx and alabaster, which we were told were necessary to take the place of finger-bowls after the people of the court ate sweets. Both the Dolma-Baghtcheh and the Beyler-Bey palaces are mixtures of Moorish, Arabic, Turkish and French architecture and decoration, but the big ballroom, where the Sultans formerly held receptions, is pure French.

We asked the handsome young aide-de-camp, who was detailed by His Imperial Majesty to conduct us through the palaces, how a ball-room was used in a country where gentlemen were not permitted to meet ladies. He explained that in the harems the ladies often danced among themselves for the entertainment of their husbands, although the latter never danced with them, but a ball-room was considered a necessary feature of a palace, and this one had been used on several occasions years ago. The young colonel showed us through the picture gallery also, where there is a collection of paintings made by the late Sultan Abdul Aziz, who evidently knew very little about art. His taste seemed to run to nude women, horses, and battle pictures in which Turkish legions were trampling down their enemies. There were several portraits of Sultans also, notwithstanding the popular impression that the Mohammedan religion forbids the reproduction of the human face and figure.

People who have read fanciful descriptions of Constantinople, penned by poets, artists and other sentimentalists like D’Amicis, for example, who are apt to see more than appears to ordinary eyes, have an impression that the Seraglio of the Sultan is a palace of mysterious seclusion; that it has something to do with the harem and other private affairs of His Imperial Majesty. I supposed so until I came to Constantinople, but it is nothing of the sort. Literally, a seraglio means a portico or vestibule surrounding any habitation, palace, kiosk or mosque, but the term is commonly used as a collective noun, and refers to a collection of buildings used for different purposes, such as the residence of a pasha, his harem, his offices, his stables and the mosque that is attached to all of the large establishments in Turkey. The Seraglio of the Sultan is a large collection of buildings inclosed by a mighty wall, covering the extreme point of the peninsula upon which Stamboul stands, and dividing the Sea of Marmora from the Golden Horn. In its geographical association it corresponds to Battery Park, New York, and is the most conspicuous object one sees upon approaching the city and the last upon which the eye rests when departing. It is also the most interesting spot in all Turkey from a historical standpoint. There is no place in the East except the Holy Land which has so many associations. It is to Constantinople what the Kremlin is to Moscow, the Escurial to Madrid, Potsdam to Berlin, Versailles to Paris, and perhaps we may compare it to Hampton Court near London.

The garden of the Seraglio was the Acropolis of the original city, the site of the Palatium sacrum of Constantine, the citadel of his successors, the palace of Justinian and Placidia, queen of the Goths. Few spots on earth have had a longer or more tragic history. From the gardens of the Seraglio sailed the fleets of the Phoenicians, the war barges of the Romans, the triremes from Asia, the galleys of Darius the Persian, of Xerxes, of Alexander the Great, Philip of Macedon, and I would not be surprised if Agamemnon, Ajax, Achilles and those bold old warriors had landed there many a time. The gilded barges of Venice and Genoa brought their soldiers there and from that landing-place carried away millions of plunder. The feet of the Crusaders trod the gravel walks—Richard the Lion-Hearted, Godfrey de Bouillon, and the Frank emperors made it their headquarters in the time of the Crusades. Since the occupation of Constantinople by the Turks, the resplendent caiques of the Sultans have come and gone, some of them bearing candidates for uneasy thrones, and others, desperate creatures, seeking refuge from a miserable death.

From the time of Mohammed II., who took Constantinople by storm in 1453, to Abdul Medjid, in 1864, who deserted it for the more cheerful palace of the Dolma-Baghtcheh on the banks of the Bosphorus, twenty-two Sultans have been imprisoned or murdered, or died by violence within the palaces of the Seraglio. For four hundred years the fate of the sovereigns of Turkey was subject to the caprice of the all-powerful Janizaries, who made it their headquarters. Up to the beginning of the last century it was the fashion for the Janizaries to decapitate unpopular Sultans and ministers and expose their heads upon the pillars of the gate in order that the public might know what had happened. Two niches on either side of the Sublime Porte, which is the main gateway to the Seraglio, were made for that purpose. Sometimes, however, as a special mark of vengeance or honor, the heads were placed, like that of John the Baptist, upon a silver charger and left outside where the public could examine them closely.

Over the Sublime Porte, a stately arch with ponderous gates, is an Arabic inscription reading: “May Allah ever preserve the glory of the possessor; may Allah ever strengthen his foundations.”

In the first large court, known as the Court of the Janizaries, is an enormous tree called by their name, under which they were in the habit of hatching their conspiracies. It is said to be the largest tree in Europe, and two stunted columns under its far-spreading branches once served as a guillotine. There are many buildings within the walls in addition to the palaces, the harem, the barracks of the soldiers and those used for official purposes. The mint is there, the arsenal, magazines for the storage of explosives, a hospital, the imperial stables, quarters for an army of slaves, several pleasure kiosks and a mosque. The Greek church of St. Irene, erected by Constantine the Great, which was converted into an armory instead of a mosque, is a venerable monument of the Byzantine style of architecture. In the museum of the armory is the scimiter used by Mohammed II. in the siege of Constantinople, the sword of Scanderbeg, the armor of Tamerlane and the porphyry tombs of Constantine, Theodosius, Julian the Apostate and other early Greek emperors.

The Chirkau Scherif, or Hall of the Holy Garment, is the most sacred place in Turkey, for it shelters the mantle of the Prophet Mohammed, his staff, his saber, his standard, and, among other relics, two hairs from his venerable beard, which are inclosed in a casket of gold. The sacred mantle is a long brown robe of camel’s-hair, made in the same shape and style and resembling in appearance those worn by Persian priests. It is inclosed in a frame and covered with cloth-of-gold for protection, with little slits cut in the covering in order that the threads may be seen. The standard of Islam is a green flag or banner, about two feet square, of the finest silk, embroidered with an inscription similar to those seen in all the Mohammedan churches, declaring that “there is no God but Allah and Mohammed is his prophet.” This standard is said to have been carried by Mohammed himself and has ever since been the most significant and sacred egis of the Moslem world, the symbol of el jihad, or call to a religious war, when borne publicly by the Sultan in the mosque of St. Sophia.

SULEIMAN MOSQUE, CONSTANTINOPLE

There are many other interesting buildings in the Seraglio, some of them famous for their decorations and the carved marble used in their construction. Others are gloomy-looking storehouses for archives and wardrobes for the robes of state—once carefully kept by black eunuchs, now all more or less dilapidated and abandoned. The kitchens cover a large area and are roofed with domes perforated to let out the smoke instead of having the ordinary chimney, and in the olden days it is said that 40,000 oxen was the yearly complement, with a corresponding number of sheep, goats, calves, capons, geese, ducks, pigeons and other supplies.

In August, 1863, several of the ancient buildings were destroyed and damaged by fire, and nowadays the most of them are yellow and dingy, sadly in need of paint and restoration. There is everywhere a look of neglect. Most of the Seraglio is vacant except for the custodians and guards, and everywhere there is a pathetic squalor.

The most beautiful of all the buildings, the famous oriental kiosk known as Tschinili, or the mosque of porcelain, built by the conqueror Mohammed in imitation of one he saw at Bagdad, remains in an excellent state of preservation, for which we are duly grateful, and its portico, with graceful pillars elaborately carved in the most delicate lace-work, its dome starred with gilt coruscations, and lined from ceiling to floor with beautiful blue Persian tiles, look as bright and new as they did on the day they were made. The doors are of bronze, the woodwork is set with mother-of-pearl and the rugs and hangings are of the finest silk. It is altogether the prettiest thing in Constantinople.

Across the court, however, is what we came to see,—the treasury of the Ottoman Empire, or, as it used to be known, the Green Vaults of Constantine. Here is a display of barbaric splendor and a collection of treasure and baubles which no Turk is ever allowed to look upon except the Aghas and eunuchs who are intrusted with its protection, and even they are spies upon each other. No one can enter this building without an order signed by Abrahim Pasha, private secretary to His Majesty. Applications by strangers must be made to the Sultan personally through the ambassador of their country, and he requires several days to consider before granting a permit. Perhaps he makes inquiries as to the character of the applicant, because he is exceedingly jealous of his treasures and always apprehensive lest they should be seen by some person who may make trouble about them.

No resident of Constantinople except the families of the diplomatic corps, no Turk and no person who understands the Turkish language can be admitted, for fear they might give information concerning the millions of dollars’ worth of precious stones and other valuables which would tempt robbers or cause discontent among the poverty-stricken people. When the Sultan tells suppliants that he has no money they might ask him to sell some of the diamonds and pearls and emeralds or melt up some of the gold in his treasury. Very few Turks know what is there. Few members of the Sultan’s household have ever seen the collection. Most of them are gifts, heirlooms and trophies of war. Many have been handed down by twenty-eight generations of Sultans, and it is claimed that the collection has never been disturbed; but that is an exaggeration. No matter how hard-pressed the Sultan may be for money he would not sell any of his treasures, but sometimes he has taken out some trifle for a gift—a jewel or an ornament; something that would not be missed.

There is no such useless wealth in all the world except in the Kremlin at Moscow. That looks larger because it occupies more space and is better arranged for display. The Sultan’s treasures are crowded into two little rooms, arranged without any taste or plan of installation, and the loose and unset jewels, seals and other articles of adornment are kept in big salad-bowls that will hold a couple of gallons. There are five bowls full of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, turquoise and other unset precious stones, perhaps a half bushel altogether, and a large tray about twelve by fifteen inches in size covered with beautiful unmounted pearls. One of the emeralds weighs two kilograms and another is almost of the same size. They are said to be the largest emeralds in the world.

The most gorgeous and overpowering spectacle in the collection is a throne said to be of solid gold set, mosaic-like, with uncut rubies, emeralds and pearls, which formerly belonged to the Shah of Persia, and was captured and brought to Constantinople as the spoil of war by Sultan Selim I. in 1502. There are scepters, armor, sabers, scimiters, pistols, saddles and other equestrian equipments, walking-sticks, sandals and other articles, some of them imbedded with jewels. A toilet table of ordinary size is veneered with diamonds, while the wash-bowl, pitcher and other toilet articles are set thickly with the most beautiful turquoise. There are cups of onyx, crystal and jade; stirrups, bridles and other horse-furniture of gold, and in the corner of a little case is a two-quart bowl filled with diamond buttons, which some time or another fastened the garments of some extravagant sultan. Arranged around the wall are effigies of a dozen or more of the great sultans in their richest robes of state and wearing their favorite jewels. If those effigies could be stripped of their ornaments they alone would make a display of the jeweler’s art that would be worth exhibition. There is no catalogue, and I was prohibited from taking notes. Newspaper men are never knowingly admitted, lest they should publish descriptions of the riches of the treasury and give the Sultan hysterics.

The ceremony of opening the doors was quite interesting. There are two sets of keys for everything, and they are held by two custodians who have nothing to do with each other and are supposed to be enemies. Each has a guard of twenty-four men, who live apart and are forbidden to associate with each other or have any more than the strictest official communication. Representatives of each of these squads are on duty at all times and are expected to act as spies on each other. They are peculiar-looking people and wear a queer livery—a high-buttoned coat of black broadcloth like an Episcopal clergyman, with a red fez.

Our card of invitation fixed our reception at 11:30 a.m. We arrived a little before that hour, to find that the custodians had anticipated us and had drawn up their guards in two lines facing each other. One of the chiefs then went forward and unlocked his share of the fastenings. Then the other came forward and used his keys. Each was accompanied by at least twelve men, and under the regulations could not turn a bolt until they all were present. If anyone had been absent we would have been compelled to wait for him or come another day. And every one of these guards expected a liberal fee. The cost of looking at the Sultan’s treasures amounted to $35. After the inspection we were invited to a pavilion where coffee, sweets and cigarettes were served with great formality. While we were there an accident happened. Our courier, in reply to an inquiry, unintentionally dropped a few words of Turkish, and there was great excitement. One of the officials took him aside and put him through a close examination, but finally accepted his explanation that he was not a Turk nor a resident of Turkey, and was not familiar with the language, but had learned a few words during the recent war with Greece, when he had served as a dragoman for an English newspaper correspondent.

VIII
ROBERT COLLEGE AND THE MISSIONARIES

Upon the summit of a bold promontory, overlooking the Bosphorus, almost midway between the Black Sea and the Sea of Marmora, one hour’s ride by boat from Constantinople, stands a monument. No man could need or wish a nobler one. It is called Robert College, and was erected about forty years ago by a New York merchant, Christopher R. Robert, who was interested in Turkish trade. It has an appropriate place. A lighthouse should always stand were it can see and be seen, and Robert College has done more to enlighten the East than any other agency. Little passenger boats, like those upon the Thames in London and upon the Seine in Paris, run regularly or rather irregularly, up and down the Bosphorus, touching the many little suburban settlements along its shores. At Bebek, a pretty town much frequented by European residents of Constantinople, is a Protestant church, where formerly stood a temple to Artemis Dictynna. After the Turks obtained possession palaces were laid out there, and at one of them, called “The Kiosk of the Conferences,” the Sultans used to receive ambassadors secretly, without the knowledge of their ministers and other officials of the government, and there several important treaties between the Ottoman Empire and the European Powers were negotiated and signed. The Bosphorus is only about eight hundred yards wide at this point. Near Bebek was the celebrated bridge over which Darius led the Persian armies into Europe. A throne was hewn in a rock at the top of the promontory on which he sat and watched his army crossing from Asia. Two pillars of white marble inscribed with the names of the nations that contributed to his army formerly stood there, according to Herodotus, but have since been removed.

ROBERT COLLEGE, CONSTANTINOPLE

Passengers for the college land from the boats at Bebek and follow an easy path up a hill beside an ancient cemetery and under the shadow of the walls of Rumili Hisar, a mighty castle built by Mohammed II. in 1453 while he was besieging the city of Constantinople. Immediately opposite, upon the Asiatic shore of the Bosphorus, a similar castle was erected, and the two commanded the passage so that every ship passing up and down was compelled to pay toll. Mohammed called this castle Boghag Kessen (Throat Cutter), for he had a pleasant way with him. The ruins are as picturesque and extensive as any in Europe, and the towers are almost perfect after nearly six hundred years, although the floors and ceilings have long since fallen through. The walls have crumbled and much stone has been taken away for building material. They were originally thirty feet thick and thirty feet high, and were built with the greatest haste and energy. Mohammed employed 1,000 masons, 1,000 lime-burners and 10,000 laborers in the construction, and to each mason was assigned the task of building two yards of wall in three months. By this division of labor and responsibility the work was completed in the time named by the ingenious designs of the engineers, and the outline of the walls forms the Turkish word “Mahomet.”

There are other interesting places in the neighborhood, but Robert College is the most interesting of all. The institution is built and conducted upon the American plan. You might fancy that the dormitories and lecture-rooms and library of some institution in Ohio or Illinois had been lifted bodily and transported there. They are of solid masonry and as nearly fireproof as it is possible to make them. Dr. Washburn, the president, has a comfortable home within the grounds, of corresponding architecture and material, and the residences of the faculty are scattered around the neighborhood inside and outside the walls. It is not necessary to describe the buildings, for they are so much like our own. In the basement of the principal dormitory is the common dining-room at which the boarding students take their meals and the day students their lunches, and that, too, is conducted upon the American rather than the Turkish plan. The same can be said of the dormitories, the library and the gymnasium. The preparatory department has a new building, the gift of Miss Stokes, of New York, which cost $40,000. Other buildings are greatly needed, because the present accommodations are not sufficient for the demands upon them. It is a lamentable fact that students have to be turned away every year because there is no room for them. The institution has done incalculable good, but it might do more. Its usefulness could be materially increased with a little more room and a little more money.

The gymnasium and playground are considered of unusual importance, as the faculty encourage athletics not only for physical, but for moral and social culture. Football, cricket, baseball and other athletic sports are the most effective equalizers that can be adopted. The students of the college come from all ranks, castes and from every social stratum, but social distinctions are not recognized at Robert College any more than at our institutions at home, and there is always more or less difficulty in reconciling the representatives of the favored classes to the doctrine of human equality. The football field, however, is a pure democracy, where all meet on the same level and the best man wins the greatest degree of respect and exercises the greatest influence.

Robert College is not a missionary institution, nor is it sectarian in any respect. Its object is to afford the young men of Turkey and the surrounding countries facilities for acquiring such an education as will best fit them for professional and business life. It aims to combine the highest moral training with the most complete mental discipline. The purpose of the faculty is to adapt it to the needs of the people and develop Christian manliness among the students without attempting to teach them theology. The plan of discipline and instruction is the same as in the ordinary colleges in America. The recitations and lectures are all in English. American text-books only are used. Students are required to attend chapel daily and religious services on Sunday. No exceptions are made either for Jews or Gentiles, Roman Catholics or Mohammedans. They study the evidences of Christianity just as they study moral philosophy, political economy and geology. The course of study has been selected with a view to the practical application of learning, as well as intellectual development. The regular collegiate department occupies five full years. The tuition fees, including board and lodging, are $200 a year. Tuition without board is $40 a year, and tuition and luncheon daily $65 a year. There are several scholarships which are utilized to the assistance of worthy young men upon the recommendation of the faculty.

The board of trustees has its office in New York. The president is John S. Kennedy, the secretary Edward B. Coe and the treasurer Frederick A. Booth. John Sloane, Cleveland H. Dodge, William T. Booth, William C. Sturgis, Robert W. de Forrest and William Church Osborn constitute the board. The faculty is mixed, a majority of them being natives of the East—Greeks, Armenians, Bulgarians, Roumanians and Turks—all graduates of the institution and members of the Protestant faith. Dr. George Washburn is the president; and his father-in-law, Dr. Cyrus Hamlin, was the actual founder of the institution. In 1860 Christopher R. Robert, having visited Constantinople, was deeply impressed with the necessity for an institution of higher learning there, and invited Dr. Hamlin to join him in founding an institution which should offer to young men, without distinction of race or creed, a thorough American education. Dr. Hamlin opened the college in a rented house in Bebek in 1863. Mr. Robert furnished all the funds to sustain the institution until his death, in 1878, when he bequeathed to the college one-fifth of his estate, amounting to about $400,000. Articles of incorporation were secured in New York in 1864, and in 1869 the Sultan of Turkey was persuaded by the American minister at Constantinople to issue an irade conferring upon the institution all the advantages bestowed by the imperial government upon schools in Turkey. On July 4, 1869, the corner-stone of the first building was laid by E. J. Morris, the American minister, and it was completed in 1871. It still stands as the principal building of the college, and is known as Hamlin Hall.

Other buildings have been erected since with funds contributed by friends of the college in America, and since the death of Mr. Robert the endowment fund has been increased by generous contributions from other American citizens. The college is almost self-supporting. The receipts from tuition fees cover the salaries of the professors, leaving a balance to be paid from the income of the endowment fund which is greater or less according to circumstances. The total annual expenses are within $50,000 a year, which is a very small average for three hundred and eleven students, of whom one hundred and eighty-two sleep and board in the college.

The students come from all parts of Asia Minor, Turkey in Europe, Greece and the Balkan States—the largest number from the immediate neighborhood of Constantinople; the next largest from Greece, Bulgaria and Roumania, but almost every nation is represented. The Greeks outnumber the rest, having had one hundred and twenty-seven representatives in 1902, the Armenians one hundred and eight and the Bulgarians fifty-one. Then came the Turks, Israelites, Roumanians, Austrians, French, Russians, English and Americans, Assyrians, Georgians, Persians and Levantines in order. The parents of the students belong to almost every religious faith represented in Constantinople, and are willing to sacrifice their religious scruples in order to obtain the educational advantages of the college.

The policy of the Turkish government makes it difficult and often impossible for Turks to attend the institution, and hence there are no professed Moslems among the students. It would be unsafe and it might be fatal for any student to declare himself a Moslem. It is suspected, however, that students belonging to that faith have enrolled themselves as members of others. Young men who have come from different parts of Turkey to enter the college are often arrested and imprisoned upon their arrival. Dr. Washburn says, however, that the minister of police is usually reasonable, and when satisfied that they have come in good faith he delivers them to the treasurer of the institution and holds him responsible for their behavior. In 1901 one of the students was detained in prison for two months on the charge of bringing seditious literature into the country. The police inspectors found in his luggage two pieces of music which can be bought at any music store in Constantinople, but for some reason or another the charge was pressed against him and it cost his father a large sum of money to obtain his release.

The graduates are found in high places throughout the East. Many of them occupy conspicuous positions under the governments of Bulgaria, Roumania and the neighboring countries. At one time four of the Robert College alumni were in the ministry of Bulgaria, including the late Mr. Stoiloff, who was recognized as the ablest statesman in that country after Stambouloff’s death, and was prime minister from 1894 to 1901.

Eleven different services are held in Protestant churches in Constantinople every Sunday in four different languages. Three by the Church of England—one in the chapel of the embassy, for the British ambassador has a chaplain and a physician furnished by his government, as well as a secretary; at St. Paul’s Church, which was erected fifty years ago as a memorial to the English soldiers who died in the Crimean war, and in a chapel in the suburbs at ancient Calcedon. At a chapel connected with the Dutch embassy, union services are held by the Presbyterians, Methodists and Dutch Reformed. There is also a chapel connected with the German embassy and a Lutheran chaplain. Besides these there are churches under the direction of the American Board of Foreign Missions, attended by Protestants at Robert College, at the American College for Girls at Scutari and at the American and English colony at Bebek on the Bosphorus. The Scotch Presbyterians and the Established Church of Scotland each has a house of worship, and the French Protestants residing in Galata and Pera have a very pretty church. Protestant missions to the natives are scattered all over the city and are conducted by British, German, Dutch and American societies. The American Board of Foreign Missions has one hundred and seventy-six missionaries in Turkey, including forty men and over one hundred unmarried women. The British and Dutch Reformed missionaries are almost as numerous. In all Turkey there are about 50,000 registered Protestants and 13,000 communicants in the various churches, being mostly Greeks and Armenians. As we were particularly interested in the work of the American missionaries only, I did not obtain the statistics of the others, but the American Board alone has one hundred and thirty organized native churches, twenty-five of which are self-supporting. In the city of Constantinople are two large congregations of Armenian and Greek Protestants, who have already purchased lots to erect houses of worship and have raised funds for that purpose, but are prohibited from doing so by the officials. They have made applications for building permits frequently from time to time during the last eight or ten years, which have always been denied them, and even the American minister cannot exert sufficient influence to secure that privilege. No Protestant church can be erected in Constantinople. No man dare sell a piece of land for the purpose. The churches already standing have been erected under the patronage of the different foreign legations and embassies.

A number of high standard colleges are maintained by the missionary boards in Turkey, as well as schools of all grades. The colleges are now educating a total of 3,000 students, and the pupils in the schools number over 20,000, most of these institutions being self-supporting. The students come chiefly from the mercantile class, and only about one-fourth of them are Protestants. The remainder represent all creeds and races, although the Mohammedan believers are few. More than three-fourths of the students pay full tuition, ranging from $40 to $250 a year, according to location and circumstances. There are scholarships for the benefit of poor students, but they are usually reserved for such young men and women as are studying for the mission work and for teaching in the mission schools.

From 1856 to 1876, from the Crimean war to the reign of Abdul Hamid II., the present Sultan, religious liberty prevailed throughout all Turkey, and, the government encouraging Mohammedans to enter the schools, they came in large numbers. But under the present Sultan the policy has been to restrict education and keep the people in ignorance, and no Moslem can attend a Protestant school without rendering himself and his family the objects of suspicion and persecution of all sorts. The father may be arrested upon false charges, sent to prison and his property confiscated, or the son may be accused of “discontent” (a crime which is very prevalent) and be sent to prison for months or years, or some member of the family may be charged with membership in the “Young Turkey” party, which is an offense punishable by death or banishment. Any of these things is likely to occur without the slightest justification, and they are intended as discipline to prevent proselyting by the Protestants among Mohammedans, and to make the Protestant schools unpopular. A Christianized Mohammedan cannot live in Turkey. He is compelled to leave the country, for as soon as the fact is known he is either assassinated or thrown into prison. Mohammedans who accept Christianity are very few. A somewhat notable case occurred recently—perhaps two. I have heard two versions with different names, but am confident they refer to the same person.

The son of a prominent pasha who held a commission in the Turkish army became acquainted with an American family and visited them frequently for the purpose of improving his English conversation. He became quite intimate with them, accompanied them to church and read books on religious subjects which were loaned by them. He decided to formally renounce the religion of his fathers and become a Protestant, but was compelled to leave the country as soon as his intentions were known. If his father had not condemned his own son with great promptness the entire family would have been involved in danger. The young man fled on an English ship, reached the United States about the time of the opening of the Spanish war, enlisted in the army, served through the Santiago campaign, was promoted for efficiency and has since been appointed a second lieutenant. It is impossible for him to return to Turkey. He would be assassinated by some fanatic if the government police did not get him first and arrest him upon some pretext. He would then disappear and nobody would dare ask questions as to his fate. It would be dangerous to do so. This case is known to every Protestant family and throughout the upper classes of Constantinople, and all other examples of the conversion of Moslems are equally familiar because they are so few. There is, nevertheless, a good deal of missionary work done by the Protestants among the Mohammedans, and at least 5,000 copies of the Bible in the Turkish language are sold in the Ottoman Empire every year, which shows an interest among the people; but the government officials and the Mohammedan priests are so vigilant that the purchasers would not be willing to have their names known. In fact, the Bible House was prohibited from publishing the Bible in the Turkish language for many years and was originally compelled by the censor to print upon the title page a warning that the book was intended for Protestants only.

The educational system of the Turks is not entirely bad, but is mostly for religious instruction. The mekteb, or primary schools, are numerous, and afford every boy and girl in the city an opportunity to learn to read and write and obtain a knowledge of the Koran. Such schools are attached to every mosque in the empire. The ibtidaiyeh, or secondary schools, afford opportunities for learning geography, arithmetic, history and the modern languages, but there are only twenty of these schools in all Constantinople for a million and more people. The medresseh, or colleges, teach philosophy, logic, rhetoric, theology and Turkish law, and generally take the place of the universities found in other countries. They are the highest educational institutions maintained by the Turkish government. There are schools of law, medicine, mines and forestry, art, and a manual-training establishment supported by the government, with nine large institutions for military and naval education. The Greeks, Armenians and Jews each have their own schools connected with their churches and maintained by private contributions. Some of them offer a high standard of education and have fine libraries.

There is a Protestant college for girls at Scutari, on the opposite side of the Bosphorus, which offers education for young women and has an average of one hundred and seventy-five pupils. It has been established for a quarter of a century, and has sent out a large number of useful teachers of nine different nationalities, who are now engaged throughout different parts of the Turkish Empire and the neighboring countries. Miss Mary M. Patrick, the president, is assisted by a faculty of six American professors and fifteen other instructors. You must not think, however, that the Americans are the only people who are doing good in an educational way in the Sultan’s dominions. The English, the Germans, the Swiss, the French and the Austrians all have institutions for the education of the natives, more or less supported by charities.

The editor of a Turkish newspaper is surrounded by numerous embarrassments, yet, notwithstanding the strict censorship to which it is subjected, the press exercises a much wider influence than it is given credit for, considering that the first newspaper was not published, and that no private printing-office was allowed in Turkey until during the Crimean war. There are daily papers in all of the large towns of the interior. Each vilayet, or province, has an official journal. In Constantinople the newspapers are innumerable—political, religious, literary, scientific and commercial—and are published in more different languages than in any other city in the world. There are papers in Arabic, Armenian, Bulgarian, English, French, German, Greek, Hebrew, Italian, Syriac, Persian, Spanish and in three different dialects of the Turkish language. During the Crimean war papers sprang up in Constantinople like mushrooms, and were free so far as formal regulations were concerned until a press law was promulgated in 1861, under which the publication of articles reflecting upon the Sultan, the government, the church, the police and other officials was prohibited and certain political and religious topics were tabooed. In case of violation of the law the responsible editor was punished by fine, imprisonment or the suspension of his newspaper.

A few years later the minister of the interior assumed arbitrary authority over the press, and when an article appeared that displeased him he punished the editor, suppressed the paper and confiscated the property at his pleasure. This continued until about 1886, when a preventive censorship was adopted and a press bureau was added to the private cabinet of His Majesty the Sultan. Representatives of this bureau are detailed to assist the editors of newspapers and are paid by them. Liberality is a matter of mutual agreement. The more they are paid the less trouble they cause, and if they do not receive as much as they want they generally find means to revenge themselves. The censors have desks in the newspaper offices and proof slips of every article must be submitted for their approval, which is indicated by a rubber stamp and signature. The proof slips thus marked are carefully filed away for the protection of the editor. The censors are usually incapable of forming an opinion as to the merits or effect of a political or economic article, but have a quick eye for prohibited subjects and words. Editors very soon get to understand them, and by the exercise of a little tact are able to handle them without difficulty. But certain rules must be observed. Nobody, of course, dare speak ill of the Sultan or of his government. Everything done by them must be approved; foreign relations cannot be touched upon, and religious discussions must be avoided so far as they affect Mohammedans. Nothing can appear which relates to political revolutions, insurrections or disturbances of any kind in other countries. If all the cabinets in Europe should resign, if a political revolution should break out in England and King Edward’s throne should be overturned, the fact would never be mentioned in a Turkish newspaper. No particulars of the assassinations of King Humbert and of President McKinley were printed—only the announcement of their deaths, which the readers would infer were due to natural causes. It is not safe to let the discontented element in Turkey know that kings or presidents can be killed. They might take a hint.

Nowhere at any of the courts of Europe do the diplomatic representatives of the United States appear to so great a disadvantage among the ambassadors and ministers of other Powers as at Constantinople, and Congress should do something to improve their position for the dignity and honor of our government. If there should be trouble at the Turkish capital to-morrow or next week—and it is likely to occur at any time—the American minister, the members of his legation, the consul-general and his staff and their families would be compelled to take refuge at the British embassy. They might, of course, go to the German or Russian embassy, but our relations with the British are more intimate there, as well as elsewhere, because of a similarity of language and mutual interests. At all capitals the interests of citizens of the United States are protected by the representatives of Great Britain when our own ministers are absent, and vice versa, and the records of our legations and consulates are always intrusted to the British diplomatic and consular officials, and theirs to ours, whenever necessary. Our minister and consul-general, with their secretaries and attachés, would be welcome at the British embassy, which has often extended its hospitality to their predecessors, but it is nevertheless a humiliating fact that they are dependent upon other nations for protection when Uncle Sam is great enough and rich enough to provide for his own agents in foreign countries.

The doctrine of extra-territoriality prevails in Turkey—that is, the citizens of each nation residing there are tried for offenses according to their own laws, and before their own diplomatic and consular representatives. It does not matter who the plaintiff is. He may be a Turk or a Dutchman; the nationality of the defendant determines the court and the law by which an offense shall be tried, for every offense he may commit, from murder down to petty larceny. Hence court is held regularly at the various embassies and legations, petty offenses being tried before the consuls, and those of a more serious character before the minister or ambassador. The Turkish officials have nothing to do with them.

Turkish law is founded on the Koran, the teachings of famous Khalifs and other disciples of Islam, and upon decisions rendered upon questions proposed to the Sheik-ul-Islam, the head of the Moslem Church, who is the court of final appeal and has authority to overrule all magistrates. The teachings of the Koran and the prophet and such precedents, maxims and decisions are codified and published in a volume divided into chapters relating to commercial affairs, penal offenses, etc., and the canon, or ecclesiastic, and common law. To them are added the firmans, or proclamations, of the Sultan, which permit or forbid certain things among his subjects, and the regulations provided by the police authorities which generally stand from year to year. The kazasskers, or justices, as we would call them, a body of theologians, jurists and teachers of Moslem law, are supposed to assist the Sheik-ul-Islam in the investigation and decision of questions of law, and prepare briefs for him to sign. There is also a court known as the Ulema, of minor jurisdiction.

All residents of Turkey are supposed to belong to some religious society, or millet, and are reached through the head of their particular community. Theoretically each millet is allowed the free exercise of religion, the management of its own monasteries, schools, hospitals and charitable institutions and in certain cases judicial authority. The chief millets are Roman Catholic, Greek, Orthodox, Armenian, Jewish, Protestant, Bulgarian, Maronite, Nestorian and Greek Roman Catholic; and each citizen, no matter how humble, is required to be registered as a member of one of these millets. In case he has committed an offense he has the nominal right to appeal to the head of his sect for protection, and on the other hand the patriarch or chief of each millet is nominally the medium through which the laws and orders of the Turkish government are enforced; but this is purely theoretical. Men who are accused of crime or misdemeanor are hauled up by the Turkish police and cast into prison without mercy or justice and remain there until their friends can raise money enough to buy them out or the diplomatic agent of their government appears to protect them.

In the embassy courts no account is taken of Turkish law or mode of procedure, and the proceedings are conducted exactly as they would be at home. Our consul-general has a clerk of court, a United States marshal and other judicial officers, whose powers and duties correspond precisely to those of similar officials at home, and our government has a prison also for the detention of offenders. The business of the United States court, however, is very small compared with that of other legation courts, because we have very few citizens in Constantinople. There are only about two hundred Americans in Turkey all told, and they are mostly missionaries, who do not often appear in the consular courts. But some of the embassies—the Russian, the German, Austrian and French—do considerable business.

Each of the European Powers, even Holland and Belgium, has a handsome residence and legation building. The German embassy is one of the finest edifices in Constantinople. None but the palaces of the Sultan exceed it in dimensions or pretensions. It stands in a conspicuous place and may be seen from all parts of the city. The Russian embassy is an enormous building, surrounded by a high wall, and has a hospital connected with it. The British embassy is also a fine building. Our minister usually has to live in a hotel because it is always difficult and often impossible to rent a suitable residence. At present only one house in Constantinople fit for the purpose can be secured. It belongs to an Italian nobleman who has returned to his former home in Italy, and stands in one of the most convenient and desirable sections of the city, but the cellar is full of water and cannot be kept dry. The walls are saturated with moisture, and hence the prospect of leasing it is not good. Usually the United States minister rents a residence at Therepia, a suburban town a few miles up the Bosphorus, where several of the European governments have legations for the use of their representatives during the hot season, when the heat and the filth make it impossible for them to live in the city. On the first of July the entire diplomatic corps moves en masse from Constantinople to Therepia and remains there until the first of November, when it is again safe to return. The ambassadors or their secretaries come to town nearly every day for the transaction of necessary business and to communicate with the officials of the government, and are provided with yachts for the journey. Our government is the only one of importance which does not have a yacht for the use of its minister lying at anchor near the custom-house. During the summer months he is permitted to lease a little steam launch, but at the close of the season it is sent back to its owner.

These yachts have, however, a purpose which is much more important, but it is not often mentioned. The condition of affairs in Turkey is similar to that in China, and the members of the diplomatic corps are exposed at all times to the same dangers that imperiled the legations at Peking two years ago. When a mob of Moslems, whose religion teaches them that it is their duty to kill Christians, takes possession of the city of Constantinople, it does not distinguish between foreigners. All persons who do not profess the Moslem faith are infidels and must die, no matter whether they are Armenians or English or Austrians, and the police and other officials have no means of controlling or directing the ignorant and fanatical Turks. It is considered necessary, therefore, that the members of the different embassies and legations should have means of escape always at hand, and hence the long line of steam yachts anchored at a convenient situation near the foreign quarter of the city. Germany, Russia, England, France, Austria and Italy always have gunboats anchored in the Bosphorus as an additional protection. The Turkish government requires them to be small. As a rule it will not permit a foreign man-of-war to pass the Dardanelles, but these guard-boats, as they are called, are admitted to be necessary by the police themselves, and by special treaty provision are allowed to anchor off the city.

Public confidence in the government is so small that nearly all the European nations have their own mail service. The British, German, French, Austrians and Russians have distinct and separate postoffices, because the subjects of those nations residing in Turkey cannot trust the Turkish mails. This is done with the consent of the Sultan, and is regulated by treaty stipulations. The postoffices are open to the public and can be used by anyone. The mail is put into bags, sealed and shipped by railroad to the nearest convenient point within the territory of the nation interested. The British mail goes to London, the French mail to Marseilles, the Austrian to Budapest and the Russian to Odessa. The seals are broken at those places, and the contents of the bags are turned over to the regular postal officials. At the British postoffice British stamps are sold, surcharged with the value in Turkish money. The same is true of all the other postoffices.

Tourists can no longer visit the great “Cistern of the 1,001 Pillars,” which was formerly one of the most interesting objects in Constantinople. It was built in the time of Constantine for the purpose of storing water, is one hundred and ninety-five feet long, one hundred and sixty-seven feet wide and twenty-seven feet deep. The roof is sustained by a vast forest of columns, and it is the popular notion that they number one more than a thousand. It is estimated that the cistern formerly held enough water to supply the population of Stamboul for ten days, but it has not been used since 1850 for that purpose. Constantinople has an excellent water system carried in aqueducts running to various quarters of the city. For many years this and several other great cisterns, having been pumped out, were used for storage of government supplies, but of late they have been practically abandoned, and certain Armenian manufacturers of rope, carpets and other articles which required more room than light, have been using them rent free, because of their large size and other advantages. During the massacre of 1896, however, the Turkish mob surprised the Armenians at work in this cistern and killed between sixty and seventy in cold blood. Their bodies were allowed to remain in the cistern unburied and are there still. Hence it is not an agreeable place to visit.

Two thousand children, orphans of people who lost their lives in that massacre, are employed in a carpet factory in the suburbs of Constantinople.

PART II
Bulgaria

PART II
BULGARIA

IX
RECENT HISTORY AND POLITICS

In the early days, at the time of that great soldier, Philip of Macedon, the name of Thrace was applied to the whole district south of the Danube. It was inhabited by a savage race, which Philip and his successor, Alexander, brought under subjection and incorporated into their empire. Early in the Christian era the Emperor Vespasian conquered the country, and it became a Roman province, and remained such until the horde of eastern barbarians swept up the valley of the Danube about the beginning of the third century. Among them were the Bulgari, an Asiatic clan, who remained in possession of the Balkan Mountain region and gave it their name. During subsequent centuries they founded the great Bulgarian Empire, which attained the zenith of its power during the reign of the Czar Simeon (893-927 A.D.), but fell under Byzantine rule in the eleventh century.

The first appearance of Russia in the affairs of Bulgaria was a most important event, for it has affected the politics of the country until this very day. One August morning in the year 967 A.D. 10,000 men landed from a Russian fleet at the mouth of the Danube. They were led by a valiant and hardy warrior named Sviatoslav, whose food was horseflesh and whose bed was a bearskin laid upon the ground. Since then the Russians, by reason of racial and religious relationship, have claimed the right to interfere in the affairs of the country, and no nation has shown greater sympathy with the unhappy people who have suffered so much from Turkish oppression.