Constantinople, painted by Warwick Goble, described by Alexander Van Millingen
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Title: Constantinople, painted by Warwick Goble, described by Alexander Van Millingen
Author: Alexander Van Millingen
Illustrator: Warwick Goble
Release date: May 5, 2012 [eBook #39620]
Language: English
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Credits: Produced by Bryan Ness, Turgut Dincer and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONSTANTINOPLE, PAINTED BY WARWICK GOBLE, DESCRIBED BY ALEXANDER VAN MILLINGEN ***
Produced by Bryan Ness, Turgut Dincer and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
A COMPANION VOLUME
IN THE SAME SERIES
ROME
PAINTED BY ALBERTO PISA
TEXT BY M. A. R. TUKER AND HOPE MALLESON
CONTAINING 70 FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR
PRICE <b>20s.</b> NET
Post free, 20s. 6d.
"We can emphatically declare that it is brilliant,
suggestive, original, and interesting from the first
chapter to the last."--_Saturday Review._
"A volume which will take high rank amongst the many
works which have for their special object to recall Rome
to those who have seen it, and to give some notion of its
many attractions to those who have been denied that
privilege."--_Glasgow Herald._
PUBLISHED BY
A. & C. BLACK, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W.
CONSTANTINOPLE
AGENTS
AMERICA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
64 & 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK
AUSTRALASIA THE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
205 FLINDERS LANE, MELBOURNE
CANADA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA, LTD.
ST. MARTIN'S HOUSE, 70 BOND STREET, TORONTO
INDIA MACMILLAN & COMPANY, LTD.
MACMILLAN BUILDING, BOMBAY
309 BOW BAZAAR STREET, CALCUTTA
[Illustration: A TURKISH LADY IN OUT-DOOR DRESS]
CONSTANTINOPLE
PAINTED BY WARWICK
GOBLE · DESCRIBED
BY ALEXANDER VAN
MILLINGEN, M.A., D.D.
PUBLISHED BY A. & C.
BLACK · LONDON · MCMVI
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGE
THE MAKING OF CONSTANTINOPLE UNDER CONSTANTINE
THE GREAT 1
CHAPTER II
THE MAKING OF CONSTANTINOPLE, UNDER THE EMPERORS
CONSTANTIUS, JULIAN, VALENS, THEODOSIUS THE GREAT,
AND ARCADIUS 24
CHAPTER III
THE MAKING OF CONSTANTINOPLE UNDER THEODOSIUS II 52
CHAPTER IV
ALONG THE WALLS 80
CHAPTER V
ALONG THE WALLS BESIDE THE GOLDEN HORN 101
CHAPTER VI
ALONG THE LANDWARD WALLS 118
CHAPTER VII
AMONG THE CHURCHES OF THE CITY 132
CHAPTER VIII
AMONG THE CHURCHES 147
CHAPTER IX
AMONG THE CHURCHES 170
CHAPTER X
IMPRESSIONS OF THE CITY TO-DAY 195
CHAPTER XI
RELIGIOUS COLOURING 223
CHAPTER XII
TURKISH WOMEN 242
CHAPTER XIII
EPILOGUE 262
INDEX 277
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
1. A Turkish Lady in Out-Door Dress _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
2. The Quay in Galata 2
3. Galata from the Aqueduct of Valens 6
4. Stamboul Beggar 10
5. Gypsy Basket-Maker 12
6. A Step Street in Galata 16
7. A Flower-Market, Scutari 18
8. The Galata Bridge 22
9. A Cemetery by the Bosporus 24
10. "A Kafedji" 28
11. Golden Horn from the British Hospital, Galata 30
12. Street Scene, Clay Works 34
13. Street Scene, Stamboul 36
14. A Village Store at Kavak 40
15. Galata Tower from the Bridge 42
16. Refugee Huts on the Marmora 48
17. Turkish Delight Factory 50
18. Flower-Sellers 52
19. Carpet-Menders 56
20. Fruit-Market, Stamboul 60
21. Carpet Warehouse 64
22. Shoemaker, Stamboul 66
23. Street Scene, Roumeli Hissar 70
24. Grand Bazaar, Stamboul 72
25. A Blacksmith's Shop 76
26. Seraglio Point from "The Stones" 82
27. The Seraglio Lighthouse and Scutari 84
28. Crimean Memorial, British Cemetery, Haidar Pasha 88
29. Interior of the Mosque of Sultan Ahmed I. 94
30. Prinkipo (Princes Islands) 98
31. Golden Horn, early Morning 104
32. The Bridge from Galata 106
33. Golden Horn 108
34. Suleimaniyeh at Sunrise 110
35. Cemetery at Eyoub 112
36. Galata and Stamboul from Eyoub 114
37. Golden Horn after Sunset 116
38. The Walls; the Tower of Isaac Angelus 120
39. Constantinople and Golden Horn from the Cemetery at Eyoub 130
40. View from an old Cemetery 134
41. Market in the Court of the Mosque of Sultan Ahmed I. 138
42. Court of the Suleimaniyeh 142
43. Interior of S. Sophia 158
44. Interior of S. Sophia, the Sultan's Gallery 180
45. Fountain in S. Sophia 184
46. A Wet Day on the Galata Bridge 196
47. In the Grand Bazaar 198
48. A Fortune-Teller 200
49. Street Scene, Top-Khaneh 202
50. A Step Street 206
51. Simit-Seller 208
52. Market at Scutari 212
53. Entrance to a Turkish Khan 214
54. Turkish Well, Stamboul 216
55. A Fountain by the Bosporus 218
56. Open Air Café, Stamboul 222
57. Roumeli Hissar 224
58. A Howling Dervish 228
59. A Whirling Dervish 230
60. Tomb in Scutari 238
61. The Sweet Waters of Europe 254
62. The Yashmak 256
63. The Sweet Waters of Asia 260
CONSTANTINOPLE
CHAPTER I
THE MAKING OF CONSTANTINOPLE UNDER CONSTANTINE THE GREAT
328-337 A.D.
THE foundation of Constantinople was an event of the utmost political
significance. That personal feelings actuated Constantine the Great in
the decision to establish a seat of government far from the walls of
Rome is doubtless true. The insults to which he was exposed, on the
occasion of his visit to the ancient capital of the Empire, in 326, on
account of the execution of his wife and of his son, could not fail to
annoy him, and make him willing to shake the dust of the rude city from
off his feet. To have a placard put on his palace gates comparing him
with Nero was not flattering. Certainly the Roman populace did not make
respectful subjects. Diocletian also, before Constantine, had found
Roman citizens insolent, and fled from the slings and arrows of their
sarcasm without waiting to meet the Senate, or to be invested with the
consular dignity. But after all, personal feelings go only a short way
towards the explanation of an event so serious in the history of the
Roman State as the establishment of another seat of imperial authority.
The volume and force of a mighty river might as well be explained by the
drops of a shower which fall into its current. Constantine was too great
a statesman to be swayed by mere personal impulse. The foundation of
Constantinople was the outward and visible sign of profound changes in
the ideas and policy created and long embodied by the city enthroned
beside the Tiber. It was the expression of the spirit of a new epoch; as
much so as the foundation of Alexandria signified a change in the
political conceptions of the Hellenic world, or the building of St.
Petersburg marked the new aspirations heaving in the heart of Russia, or
the erection, in more recent times, of Washington or Ottawa proclaimed
the birth of new commonwealths, and the application of new principles.
Old ideas and ancient institutions cannot be altered in one day, or at
the caprice of one man. They are not the flimsy things which can be
created or destroyed by the wave of a magician's wand. Constantine
only placed the copestone on an edifice which other hands, before his
reign, had gradually raised from the foundations to the point demanding
completion. He finished what others had begun. The creation of the new
capital was the result of causes, long in action; not a whim or matter
of taste.
[Illustration: THE QUAY IN GALATA]
In the first place, the political relation of the city of Rome to the
Roman world had undergone a fundamental change. The citizens of that
wonderful city were no longer the proprietors and sovereigns of the
realm over which the Roman eagles had spread their wings. The Senate
which assembled in the Curia, the people which gathered in the Forum
Romanum, had ceased to rule subject cities and nations. That glory had
departed. In Gibbon's mordant language, "The Senate was left a venerable
but useless monument of antiquity upon the Capitoline hill." Every
freeman within the Empire's bounds was now the equal of the men whose
forefathers had been the kings of the world. Rome was now only one of
the great cities of the Roman State, differing from her peers only in
the memories and the prestige of a happier and grander past. The
government of the world by the city had broken down, and was vested in
the hands of one supreme man. And that man had gradually become an
absolute lord and monarch; who exercised plenary authority wherever he
chose to reside, who decked himself with jewels and resplendent robes,
who made his throne the lofty peak of a vast hierarchy of nobles and
officials, and introduced new methods of administration; a man, perhaps,
without a drop of the blood which Romans proudly bore, but a rude
provincial, yet to whose will the Eternal City bowed as humbly as the
remotest village beneath his sceptre. If a Cassius still lived he might,
pointing to the Master of the Empire, well exclaim, "He doth bestride
the narrow world like a Colossus, and we petty men walk under his huge
legs, and peep about to find ourselves dishonourable graves.... Rome,
thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!" That a city which had been
sovereign and self-centred should remain the head and representative of
a cosmopolitan State, and of an autocratic Government, was something
incongruous and unnatural.
Nor was this the only respect in which the old order had changed and
given place to new. Under Constantine the attitude of the Roman
Government towards the Christian Church was the direct opposite of that
maintained by his predecessors. What they had regarded as a hostile
organisation, he welcomed as an ally and friend. What they had
endeavoured to uproot and destroy, he cultivated and supported. That he
entertained a sincere respect for Christianity as a moral and social
force, and believed that there was something Divine associated with it,
cannot be doubted. And in his opinion, it was the part of true
statesmanship to accept the religious and moral revolution that had come
into the world, and to utilise it for the welfare of the Empire. This is
not the place to discuss the question how wisely the alliance between
Church and State was effected, or to decide how much the parties to the
union thereby gained or lost. It is enough for our purpose to recognise
that the union introduced as profound a change of policy as can be
introduced into the affairs of men, that it widened the breach between
the past and the present, and rendered the embodiment of the new system
of things in forms peculiar to itself perfectly natural, if not
inevitable. This was the more certain to occur, seeing Rome continued to
be the centre of opposition to the new faith.
Yet another change in the Roman world which explains the appearance of a
new capital was the increased importance and influence of the Eastern
part of the Empire. Not only "captured Greece" but captured Asia also
"led captive her captor." The centre of gravity was now in the East.
There commerce was more flourishing, and intellectual life more active.
There the population was larger, and grouped in more important cities.
There Christianity had its home. Nor was it only in thought, and art,
and temper that the East exercised an ascendency. It was, moreover, the
post of greatest danger. Its frontiers were exposed to the most
formidable attacks which the Roman arms were now called to repel. The
secular hostility of Persia along the Tigris and Euphrates, the
incursions of Goths and Sarmatians across the lower Danube into the
Balkan lands, demanded constant vigilance, and involved frequent
warfare. The military front of the Empire was turned eastwards. There
"the triumph of barbarism" was meanwhile to be chiefly contested.
But to realise all the circumstances under which Constantinople was
founded, we should remember yet another fact. The rule of the Roman
world by one man had broken down, just as the rule of that world by the
citizens of Rome had failed. A single arm, it was discovered, could not
defend the frontiers of that vast realm against the numerous and
fierce foes who threatened its existence; or repress the insurrections
which ambitious men readily raised in widely scattered provinces, when
the central authority was too distant to strike promptly and with the
necessary vigour. Hence the famous scheme of Diocletian to divide the
burden of defending and administering the Empire between four rulers,
bound to one another by community of interest. As originally devised, it
was a short-lived scheme. But it was superseded only so far as its
details were concerned; its fundamental idea had come to stay. At first
sight, indeed, the restoration of the system of single rule, in the
person of Constantine, seemed to imply the abandonment of the multiple
form of government which Diocletian had established. Possibly
Constantine may have entertained such a purpose for some time. But
eventually he adhered to Diocletian's plan, and thought to improve upon
it by the introduction of the dynastic and hereditary factor, hoping
that by distributing the government among members of the same family,
joint rule would prove more cordial and permanent, because resting upon
a more solid basis. Accordingly, he arranged that after his death the
government should be divided between his three sons and two nephews.
[Illustration: GALATA FROM THE AQUEDUCT OF VALENS
The Galata Tower, which is such a prominent feature from this
standpoint, is used as a station for signalling any outbreak of fire,
and also the quarter of the city in which it occurs.]
This was an excessive partition of power, and proved unsatisfactory. But
the view that the welfare of the State required the attention and
abilities of more than one ruler was consistently upheld, so long as
Western and Eastern Europe formed integral parts of the same dominion.
As a consequence Rome ceased to be the capital of the Empire, even in
the ordinary acceptation of the term. For multiplicity of rule involved,
necessarily, as many seats of imperial administration as the number of
rulers associated in the government of the Empire. Hence, under
Diocletian, four cities boasted of being capitals. Furthermore, the
selection of what cities should enjoy that honour would be determined by
their fitness to become natural parts of the new organisation of the
Roman world. Even Rome's claim to be one of the capitals would be
submitted to that test. And when so submitted, the claim of the Eternal
City was disallowed even in that portion of the Empire which included
Italy, where, for strategic reasons, the choice fell first upon Milan
and subsequently upon Ravenna. When it came to the turn of the East to
provide suitable seats of government, the honours were shared between
Singidunum, near the modern Belgrade, and Nicomedia in Asia Minor. But
for reasons which will immediately appear, Constantine preferred
Byzantium, and, having changed the comparatively insignificant town into
a splendid city, named it New Rome and Constantinople, to become the
sole centre for the administration of the Eastern portion of the Empire,
and the local habitation of the spirit of a New Age.
It would appear that the selection of Byzantium for its great destiny
was made after the claims of other cities to that distinction had been
duly weighed. Naissus (the modern Nisch in Servia) which was the
Emperor's birthplace, Sardica (now Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria),
Thessalonica were thought of for that purpose. They had the
recommendation of giving ready access to the Danube frontier, along
which the barbarians caused anxiety and demanded close attention. Some
consideration was given to Nicomedia, which had already been selected by
Diocletian for his capital. It is also said, though without any serious
grounds for the statement, that Constantine actually began work for a
new city near the site of old Troy, under the spell of the poetic
legends which associated Ilium with the origin of the Roman people. But
the superiority of Byzantium to all rivals was so manifest that there
was hardly room for long suspense as to the proper choice. The old
oracle, "Build opposite the blind," which led to the foundation of
Byzantium could still serve to guide Constantine in his search for the
most suitable position of a new imperial city. There is no place in the
wide world more eminently fitted by natural advantages to be the throne
of a great dominion, than the promontory which guards the southern end
of the Bosporus. There Asia and Europe meet to lay down that antagonism
which has made so much of the world's history, and to blend their
resources for man's welfare. A Power upon that throne, having as much
might as it has right, should control a realm extending from the
Adriatic Sea to the Persian Gulf, and from the Danube to the
Mediterranean. From that point natural highways by sea and land proceed,
like the radii of a circle, in all directions where rule can be enforced
or commerce developed--to Russia, to Asia, to Africa, to the lands of
the West. Its magnificent harbour was fitly named the Golden Horn, for
it could be the richest emporium of the world's wealth. Under no sky can
men find a more enchanting bower of beauty, or have more readily the
charms of nature, the portion and delight of daily life. When Othman,
the founder of the Ottoman power, beheld in his dreams this fair city,
situated at the junction of two seas and two continents, it seemed to
him a diamond set in sapphires and emeralds. Here, moreover, men could
dwell secure. Foes advancing through Asia Minor would find their march
upon the city arrested by the great moat formed by the Bosporus, the Sea
of Marmora, and the Hellespont. The straits just named could be made
impassable to hostile fleets approaching from the Euxine or the
Mediterranean. While armies which had succeeded in breaking through the
barriers of the Danube and the Balkans could be confronted by
impregnable fortifications planted along the short landward side of the
promontory. "Of all the events of Constantine's life this choice," Dean
Stanley declares, "is the most convincing and enduring proof of his real
genius." Dr. Hodgkin pronounces it, "One of the highest inspirations of
statesmanship that the world has witnessed."
[Illustration: STAMBOUL BEGGAR
One of a privileged class who was caught sleeping on duty.]
With these reasons for the choice made by Constantine, personal feelings
may have been associated. Such feelings could well play a part his
attachment to Byzantium as in his detachment from Rome. It was at
Byzantium and on the neighbouring heights of Chrysopolis (Scutari), on
the Asiatic side of the narrow straits between the two towns, that
Constantine had finally defeated his rival Licinius, and brought the
Roman dominion under his own rule. To set up his throne amidst the
scenes of his crowning victories, where his figure would stand out to
view for ever in solitary grandeur, as the inaugurator of a new epoch in
the world's history, was a consideration that would appeal to the
feelings of men far less ambitious than the founder of Constantinople.
The long history of Byzantium, since the day when a band of colonists
from Megara settled there in 658 B.C., to the day in 328 A.D. when
Constantine enlarged the town into New Rome, must not detain us. It was
a prosperous little town, much occupied with fisheries, interested in
the business of corn and wine, and a port of call for ships trading
between the countries bordering the Euxine and the Ægean. It was also
celebrated as a fortress, being surrounded by walls of extraordinary
strength, which were defended on more than one occasion with great
heroism. Situated on one of the principal highways between the East and
the West, "even in the force and road of casualty," many of the chief
movements of ancient times in either direction passed by its ramparts,
and compelled its citizens to take a side in the conflicts of the great
powers of the day, and act a part on the field of general history. When
Darius I. crossed the Bosporus into Europe to chastise the Scythians in
Russia, the town fell under the power of Persia, and remained subject to
the Great King until Pausanias, the victor at Platæa, delivered it from
that yoke. In the struggle for supremacy between Sparta, Athens, and
Thebes, it was controlled now by one of the rivals and then by another
of them. It acquired great fame by its resistance to Philip of Macedon,
when the star and crescent moon, which have from that time been the
device of the city through all changes of fortune, exposed the approach
of the enemy and disconcerted his plans. With the rest of the Greek
world, Byzantium formed part of the dominion of Alexander the Great. In
the war between Rome and Mithridates, it became the ally of the former,
and was eventually merged in the Roman Empire. Septimius Severus
levelled its splendid walls to the ground, because of its loyal
adherence to the cause of his rival, Pescennius Niger. He also deprived
it of its higher rank among the towns of the province, making it
subordinate to Heraclea. But he soon recognised the mistake of
destroying a stronghold that guarded one of the great highways into the
Empire, and ordered the fortifications to be rebuilt, and the town to be
refurnished with temples, theatres, baths, and other public edifices.
The subordination of the town to Heraclea, however, was maintained, with
the result that the Bishop of Heraclea became the superior of his
brother of Byzantium until Constantinople was founded. Then, naturally,
the ecclesiastical chief of the new capital took precedence. But in
virtue of the higher position held previously by Heraclea, the Bishop of
that see acquired the right to preside at the consecration of the
patriarch of Constantinople, and retains that right to the present day.
So long may a comparatively trifling action leave its mark upon the
world's history.
[Illustration: GYPSY BASKET-MAKER
With the knife he is holding he cuts long shavings off the faggots
suitable for plaiting into baskets.]
In the course of the third century, Byzantium suffered from the raids of
the Goths, and in commemoration of the defeat inflicted upon the
barbarians by the Emperor Claudius Gothicus at Nissa in 269 A.D., the
graceful Corinthian column of granite, which still rises some 50 feet
high on the slope above the Seraglio Point, was erected, bearing on its
pedestal the inscription, "Fortunæ Reduci ob devictos Gothos" (To
Returning Fortune, on account of the defeated Goths). Finally, here, as
already stated, the struggle between Constantine and Licinius was
decided by the fall of the town into Constantine's hands, after a
desperate defence. From all this history of the town, one fact was
perfectly clear--the immense strategic value of the place. When
Constantine transformed Byzantium into a new capital and a great bulwark
of his Empire, he only developed the innate capacities of the site to
their natural culmination. Constantinople was Byzantium in flower.
Apart from the advantages offered by its situation, Byzantium had little
to recommend it to Constantine's regard. It presented neither ample
room, nor a large population, nor convenient and splendid buildings to
favour the rapid growth of a metropolis. Of the tongue of land on which
the town stood, only the portion to the east of the line drawn from the
present Stamboul Custom House, on the Golden Horn, across to the
Seraglio Lighthouse, on the Sea of Marmora, was occupied. In the bay
beside that Custom House lay the harbours of the town, where shipping,
traders, and merchants did mostly congregate. The Acropolis stood on the
rocky hill now enclosed within the Seraglio Grounds, and there several
temples were found, that gods and goddesses might unite with men in the
defence of the citadel. Against the steep side of the Acropolis, facing
the blue expanse of the Sea of Marmora and the hills and mountains of
the Asiatic shore, two theatres were built, while a stadium lay on the
level tract beside the Golden Horn. The huge structure of the
Hippodrome, which Severus had begun, was waiting to be completed, and to
the north of it were the Baths of Zeuxippus and the adjoining public
square which bore the same name. All this did not constitute a rich
dowry for the future capital. But perhaps to the founder of
Constantinople that fact was not a serious objection; the greatness and
splendour of the new city were to be his own creation.
When precisely work upon the new capital commenced cannot be determined,
but the year 328 A.D., as already intimated, may be regarded as the most
probable date. The circuit of the fortifications which should guard the
city was marked out by Constantine himself with solemn ceremonial, and
comprised the territory that stretched for nearly two miles to the west
of the old town. The north-western extremity of the enclosed area
reached the Golden Horn somewhere in the neighbourhood of the
Stamboul end of the Inner Bridge, while the south-western extremity
abutted on the Sea of Marmora, at a point between the districts to which
the Byzantine names Vlanga and Psamatia still cling. The most precise
indication of the line followed by the landward wall of Constantine is
found in the Turkish name Isa Kapoussi (the Gate of Jesus), attached to
a locality above the quarter of Psamatia. The name refers to an ancient
gateway which stood in the Constantinian fortifications, and survived
their disappearance until the year 1508, when it was overthrown by an
earthquake. It is mentioned in late Byzantine days as "The Ancient
Gate," and on account of its imposing appearance as "The very Ancient
Beautiful Gate" (Antiquissima Pulchra Porta). It was the original Golden
Gate or Triumphal Entrance of the city, and, like Temple Bar in London,
reminded the passing crowds both of what the city had been, and of what
it had become.
[Illustration: A STEP STREET IN GALATA]
The name of the adjoining church, now known as Isa Kapoussi Mesdjidi,
probably suggested the Turkish appellation of this interesting and
important landmark. The addition made by Constantine to the size of
Byzantium was certainly considerable, and the astonishment of his
courtiers at the scale of his plans had some ground in reason. But the
response of the Emperor brings us into closer touch with the emotion
which animated the occasion. "I must go on," said the founder of New
Rome, "until He stops who goes before me." It was a reply in harmony
with the declaration made at another time, that he founded the city at
the Divine command, _jubente deo_. The principal agent in a transaction
of great moment often feels himself to be the instrument of a higher
will than his own, and is haunted by the thought that he builds more
wisely than he knows.
Of course a city such as Constantine designed could not be built in one
day, but such was the eagerness with which the work was pressed forward,
that by the spring of 330 sufficient progress had been made to permit
the official inauguration of the capital of the East. The 11th of May in
that year was appointed to be the city's birthday. Never is the region
about Constantinople so beautiful as at that season. We can therefore
readily imagine the splendour in which earth and sea and sky arrayed
themselves to greet the advent of the new queen-city, and to match the
state and pomp and joy with which men acclaimed that nativity. In honour
of the event there was a long series of popular festivities for a period
of forty days, besides games in the Hippodrome, free access to the
Baths of Zeuxippus, free meals, and liberal gifts of money. For many
centuries the anniversary of the day was observed as a public holiday,
when the Law Courts were closed and races were held in the Hippodrome.
And that the lofty scene of the natal day might be acted over, a gilt
statue of Constantine, holding a Figure of the Fortune of the city, was
placed in a chariot, and under the escort of soldiers in white uniform
and carrying lighted tapers in their hands, was borne round the course
to receive the homage of the reigning Emperor and the assembled
multitudes. Probably the custom was a reminiscence of a procession in
which Constantine himself had taken part on the day of the inauguration
of the city.
[Illustration: A FLOWER-MARKET, SCUTARI]
What the feelings of the "oldest inhabitant" of Byzantium were on that
day it is not difficult to imagine. Any regret at the disappearance of
ancient and familiar landmarks would be lost in pride for the honour
which the old place had received, and in admiration of the magnificence
with which it was invested. Moreover, many features of the past had only
been transfigured, so that the new was not altogether strange. The
Hippodrome, which had stood for more than 130 years an unfinished pile,
was now completed; its seats were packed with spectators, and around its
spina, chariots whirled like the wind. The Baths of Zeuxippus kept their
place, but enlarged and beautified. The open space to the north of the
Baths was converted into a square, surrounded by porticoes, and named
Augustaion, after the title Augusta bestowed upon the Emperor's mother.
On the eastern side of the place stood the Senate-House, with a
colonnade of six noble columns before the entrance. At the north-western
corner of the square was the Milion, whence distances from New Rome were
to be measured. To the north, the church dedicated to Irene proclaimed
the new faith of the Empire, and told of the peace which had enfolded
the Roman world when Constantine became sole Emperor. The ground now
occupied by the Mosque of Sultan Achmed, to the east of the Hippodrome,
was appropriated for the buildings which were to constitute the imperial
palace. The fortifications along the west of the old town had been
removed, but instead rose ramparts which could render greater service to
mankind, and had a wider outlook upon the world. On the territory within
the principal gateway of Byzantium, a forum had been constructed, named
after Constantine, and there stood a porphyry column, surmounted by his
statue watching over the city. The forum, elliptical in shape, was
enclosed by a double tier of porticoes, with entrances on the east and
the west through fine archways of marble. It was the business centre of
the city. Proceeding westwards to the hill now occupied by the Turkish
War Office, one came to buildings that recalled the Capitol of Rome;
while on the hill now crowned by the Mosque of Sultan Mehemet rose the
church dedicated to the Holy Apostles, in and around which the Emperors
of Constantinople were to be laid to rest when, in the language of the
Byzantine Court ceremonies, the Kings of kings summoned them to appear
before Him. Aqueducts and cisterns provided an abundant supply of water
for numerous public baths and fountains, as well as for private use. The
principal streets were lined with porticoes affording shelter from sun
and rain. The sewers ran deep underground. And the waters of a harbour,
one of the greatest needs of the city, on its southern side gleamed in
the bend of the shore of the Sea of Marmora, where the vegetable gardens
of Vlanga Bostan now flourish. It was known, after the superintendent of
the works, as the Harbour of Eleutherius.
Statues, many of them the work of the finest chisels of antiquity, had
been collected from all parts of the Empire to make the new capital a
museum of art, and to foster the love of the beautiful. Historical
monuments also were there, to suggest the continuity between the past
and the present, and to rouse the men of a new age to emulate the noble
deeds of the old time before them. Of these monuments none was so
inspiring as the Serpent Column brought from Delphi to the Hippodrome,
upon whose lowest thirteen coils are graven the names of the heroic
little States which hurled the Persians out of Greece. No monument stood
more appropriately in a city whose supreme task was to resist the
encroachments of barbarism upon the civilised world. Scattered over the
city were palatial mansions, some erected at the Emperor's order for
personages whom he wished to attract to the new capital, others built by
men of wealth and rank who had come of their own accord to bask in the
sunshine of imperial favour. Persons belonging to other classes of
society had also been attracted in crowds by openings for business,
demand for labourers, exemption from certain taxes, and by the free
distribution of bread, for which the cornfields of Egypt furnished
80,000 modii of wheat. After the pattern of Rome, the good order of
the city was secured by the division of the city into fourteen wards or
regions, of which twelve lay within the walls, and two were suburban.
One of the latter, the 13th ward, was on the site of Galata; the other,
the 14th ward, the famous suburb of Blachernæ, stood on the hill now
occupied by the quarter of Egri Kapou. Both of these extra-mural suburbs
were fortified. Each ward had a curator, who attended to the general
interests of that portion of the city; a crier or messenger to give
public notice to its inhabitants of matters which concerned them; five
night watchmen; and a body of men (colligiati) representing the
trade-guilds, and varying in number according to the size or importance
of the ward, to render assistance in case of fire. After this survey of
the new city, the most loyal son of the old town might come to the
ancient Strategion--the ground devoted to military exercises (on the
level tract beside the present Stamboul Railway Station)--and gladly bow
to the decree inscribed on a column erected there, that Byzantium should
henceforth be named New Rome.
[Illustration: THE GALATA BRIDGE
which spans the Golden Horn at the end near the Bosporus forms the
principal link between Galata and Stamboul. It is presented here as seen
through a window in a small café on one of the adjoining steamboat
quays.]
CHAPTER II
THE MAKING OF CONSTANTINOPLE, UNDER THE EMPERORS CONSTANTIUS, JULIAN,
VALENS, THEODOSIUS THE GREAT, AND ARCADIUS.
337-408 A.D.
AFTER visiting the sights of Rome, the Persian prince Hormisdas was
asked to give his impressions of the city. "One thing disappoints me,"
he replied, "men die here just as in the humblest village of the
Empire." So was it in New Rome. Seven years after the inauguration of
the city he founded, Constantine the Great died in the neighbourhood of
Nicomedia. His body was carried to Constantinople in a golden coffin,
and, amid demonstrations of public grief, was laid to rest in a
sarcophagus of porphyry in the Church of the Holy Apostles. The tomb was
flanked by twelve pillars, representing, so the fact was construed, the
glorious company of the Apostles, with whom he could fitly be
associated as the champion of the Christian faith. The good that men do
is, however, not always interred with their bones, and Constantinople
remained to attest the far-sighted wisdom of its founder, and to grow in
splendour and importance. But one hundred and ten years had to come and
go ere the city attained its full stature. It is the history of the
growth of Constantinople during this period that will now engage our
attention.
[Illustration: A CEMETERY BY THE BOSPORUS]
Upon the death of Constantine, the eastern division of the Empire came
under the rule of his second son, Constantius, who soon discovered how
much work upon the new seat of government remained to be done. Nor could
his visit to Old Rome fail to impress upon his mind the greatness and
the difficulty of the task before him. "Having entered," says the
historian, Ammianus Marcellinus, speaking of that visit of Constantius,
"the Forum of Trajan, the most marvellous structure in the whole world,
he was struck with admiration, and looked around in amazement without
being able to utter a word, wondering at the array of gigantic
buildings, which no pen can describe, and which men can create and see
but once in the course of centuries. Abandoning all hope of ever being
able to erect anything which would approach even at a respectful
distance Trajan's work, he turned his attention to the equestrian
statue found in the centre of the Forum, and said to his followers that
he would have one made like it. Hormisdas, who accompanied the Emperor,
quietly remarked, pointing to the Forum, 'For such a horse, you must
first provide such a stable.'"
Nevertheless, Constantius carried forward the improvement of New Rome to
such an extent that Themistius, a contemporary, speaking of the
Emperor's services in the matter, declares that the city was indebted to
Constantine the Great only for its name, and owed its actual
construction to Constantius. During this reign the fortifications of the
city were completed, the Church of the Holy Apostles underwent repair,
and the Church of S. Sophia, usually ascribed to the founder of the
city, was built, the date of its dedication being the 15th of February
360, two years before Constantius died. Constantius, moreover, placed
the city, like Rome, under a Prefect--_Præfectus Urbis_--and, what is
worthy of note, endowed the new capital with a library, thus placing in
its hand the lamp of learning which was to shine so far in the world's
history. If we may judge by the terms in which Themistius refers to the
foundation of this library, the value of books was fully appreciated in
those days. "Thus," he exclaims, "the Emperor has recalled and raised
from the dead the souls of wise men and of heroes for the welfare of the
city for the souls of wise men are in their wisdom, mind, and
intelligence, while their monuments are the books and writings in which
their remains are found." The author of the _Areopagitica_ said no more
when he declared, "A good book is the precious life-blood of a master
spirit embalmed and treasured up to a life beyond life."
[Illustration: "A KAFEDJI"
Turkish coffee is to be obtained everywhere; a "kafedji" has here set up
his little stall at the corner of a street.]
Julian, the successor of Constantius, was attached to the city by
special ties. It was the place of his birth, and there he had received
part of his early education. The school he attended was attached to the
Basilica which stood on the site of the Cistern now styled Yeri Batan
Serai, a little to the south-west of S. Sophia, and thither he went
under the conduct of his pædagogue, Mardonius, to study grammar and
rhetoric, dressed simply and associating freely with his
fellow-students. His progress in his studies soon became the talk of
society, and in public opinion presaged his fitness to become, in due
time, the ruler of the Empire. Whereupon the jealousy which besets
despotic rule was roused in Constantius, and Julian was banished to
Nicomedia. But Julian always retained a warm affection for the home of
his childhood and youth. Speaking of Constantinople in one of his
letters he says, "I love her as my mother, for I was born and brought up
there, and I can never be guilty of ingratitude towards her." Nor had he
reason to complain of his Alma Mater's feelings towards himself. When he
approached the city, in 361, to assume the crown, the whole population
poured out to meet him, and hailed him with transports of joy as at once
their sovereign and fellow-citizen. The young capital acquired a greater
sense of dignity and importance at the thought that one who had been
cradled within its precincts now occupied the throne of the Roman world.
Julian spent only ten months in Constantinople as Emperor, his stay
being cut short by war with Persia, whose hostility was not less intense
since the chief seat of the Empire had been brought nearer to the
frontier between the two States. Into those few months, however, Julian
put an immense amount of work. The condition of affairs in his native
city was not after his heart, either as a statesman, philosopher, or
devotee of the ancient faith of Athens and Rome. There the Christianity
he would fain destroy was strongly entrenched. There wrangling sects of
the new creed, more difficult to appease than the wild Franks and
Alemanni, who had felt the strength of his arm upon the banks of the
Rhine, kept the population in constant turmoil. There was found an
Augean stable of official corruption, of unpunished crimes, of relaxed
military discipline, and of extravagant luxury at the court. According
to Libanius, a thousand cooks, a thousand hairdressers, more than a
thousand cup-bearers, a crowd of waiters, swarming like bees in a hive,
and eunuchs, thick as flies in early summer, were employed in the
service of the imperial palace. One day Julian sent for a barber, and in
answer to the summons an official in a gorgeous uniform made his
appearance. "But I called for a barber, not for a receiver-general,"
exclaimed the indignant Emperor. An investigation of the case having
been made, it was discovered that in addition to a large salary the
barber enjoyed the right to many perquisites, and received daily rations
sufficient for twenty men and as many horses. Julian swept the palace
clean of such abuses. Furthermore, Julian increased the importance of
the Senate of the city by the embellishment of the Senate-House, by
additional privileges conferred on the members of that body, and by
taking part in the deliberations of the assembly. He also constructed
another harbour on the southern side of the city, placing it in the
hollow ground below the heights on which the Hippodrome stands, and thus
provided for the convenience and safety of ships that found it difficult
to make the Golden Horn from the Sea of Marmora, in the face of the
northern winds that prevail in the Bosporus. The harbour was first known
as the New Harbour and the Harbour of Julian, but, in the sixth century,
it was also named the Harbour of Sophia or the Sophias, in view of
extensive repairs made at the instance of the Empress Sophia, the
consort of Justin II. The basin of the harbour can still be traced in
the configuration of the ground it once occupied, where its memory is
preserved by the present name of the locality--Kadriga Limani, the Port
of the Galley. At the head of the harbour Julian built a portico, a
crescent in shape, and therefore spoken of as the Sigma, from its
resemblance to the curved form of that letter in the Greek alphabet.
Very appropriately the portico became a favourite lounge of the
philosophers in Constantinople, and the scene of their discussions. But
what Julian doubtless considered his richest and most filial gift to the
city of his birth, was the presentation to its public library of his
collection of books.
[Illustration: GOLDEN HORN FROM THE BRITISH HOSPITAL, GALATA]
Valens, the next Emperor concerned with the growth of the city, gave
special attention to the water-supply of Constantinople--always a
serious question owing to the comparative scarcity of water in the
immediate neighbourhood. The picturesque aqueduct which, with its double
tier of arches garlanded with ivy, still transports water across the
valley between the hills surmounted respectively by the Mosque of Sultan
Mehemet and the War Office, was built in this reign. It was an addition
to the system of water-supply provided by Constantine; a system which,
probably, had previously served the town of Byzantium, and which he only
extended and improved. Near the eastern end of the aqueduct a splendid
public fountain was placed. The Cistern of the Prætorian Prefect,
Modestius, now used as a Saddle-Market, near the Mosque of Sultan
Mehemet, belongs to this period; and, as a result of the abundance of
water thus introduced into the city, several public baths were erected.
The Baths or Thermae of Roman Constantinople, we should remember, are
the models of what we style the Turkish bath, and it is a curious fact
that this mode of bathing has been continued as a habit of popular life
only in countries comprised in the eastern division of the Empire.
But what, perhaps, makes the reign of Valens chiefly memorable in the
history of the city is that in his time the citizens of Constantinople
had their first experience of a usurpation of the throne, and of an
attack upon their walls.
The former event was brought about by a certain Procopius, a cousin of
the Emperor Julian.
Making the most of his relationship to the family of Constantine, he
took advantage of the discontent which the administration of Valens had
provoked, and having won the populace of the city and a body of troops
by means of liberal donatives, seized the palace and installed himself
as Emperor. A sharp war with Valens ensued, in which the usurper was at
length captured and put to death, while his partizans, and even persons
suspected of having favoured his cause, were put to the torture, and had
their property confiscated. Thus Constantinople learned--not for the
last time--the meaning of a reign of terror. A signal example also was
made of Chalcedon (Kadi Keui), on the opposite Asiatic shore, because
its inhabitants had sided with Procopius. The walls of the town were
ruthlessly torn down, and it was with the material thus made available
that the Aqueduct of Valens was built and that the Baths of Constantine
were repaired. Yet more serious was the quarrel of Valens with the
Goths, whom he had permitted to cross the Danube in their retreat before
the Huns, and settle in the territory we know as Bulgaria. The officials
entrusted with the control of the refugees, and with the duty of
providing them with food, did their work with such stupidity and
rapacity that the high-minded Goths flew to arms, and, at the close of a
struggle extending for upwards of a year, inflicted in 378 an
overwhelming defeat upon the imperial forces, outside the walls of
Adrianople. The Emperor himself and two-thirds of his army lay dead upon
the field. The Roman legions had not known such a disaster since they
were defeated by Hannibal at Cannæ. Flushed with victory, the Goths
marched upon Constantinople, assailed the walls, and nearly burst the
gates open. The honours of the defence fell to the widow of Valens, the
Empress Dominica, who, with the money found in the treasury, raised a
body of troops among the citizens, arming them with what weapons could
be found. A body of Arab soldiers, recently arrived in the city, also
rendered valuable aid. Sallying forth, they closed with the Goths in a
desperate struggle. Victory wavered between the two sets of barbarians;
when, suddenly, a long-haired, almost naked Arab, uttering a loud,
hoarse, and doleful cry, like a bird of evil omen, rushed upon the
Goths, and drawing his dagger, cut the throat of an opponent, and then
slaked his thirst at the flowing wound. What with the impression
produced by this horrid incident, added to a growing sense of the
impossibility of their taking a fortified place, the Goths gave up the
contest and retired from the city. This was the first siege of
Constantinople.
With the accession of Theodosius I., a brighter day dawned upon the
Empire. He not only subdued the Goths, but converted them into allies,
and persuaded them to put 40,000 of their brave troops at his service.
He even induced their aged king, Athanaric, who had sworn never to set a
friendly foot upon Roman soil, to visit Constantinople. The visitor was
profoundly impressed by the appearance of the city. "Now," said he, "I
see what I often heard of, but never believed, the renown of this great
city." Then, surveying the city's situation, the movement of ships
coming and going, the splendid fortifications, the crowded population
made up of various nationalities, like streams coming from different
directions to gush from the same fountain, the well-ordered troops, he
exclaimed, "Verily, the Emperor is a god upon earth; whoso lifts a
hand against him is guilty of his own blood." Upon the death of
Athanaric, which occurred about a fortnight after he reached
Constantinople, Theodosius buried the body of his guest with royal
honours in the Church of the Holy Apostles, and, by this act of
chivalrous courtesy, bound the Goths more firmly to his side.
[Illustration: STREET SCENE, CLAY WORKS]
The barbarians, however, were by no means the only disturbers of the
peace of the Empire with whom Theodosius found it necessary to deal.
Society in the Roman world was distracted by the conflict between pagans
and Christians on the one hand, and by the keener strife between
Christian sects on the other, and it was the ambition of Theodosius to
calm these troubled waters. For this laudable end he employed the
questionable means of edicts for the violent suppression of heathenism
and heresy. To destroy the old faith of the Empire was comparatively an
easy task, although it involved him in a war with the pagan party in the
West. But to uproot the tares of heresy was a more formidable
undertaking; they were so numerous, vigorous, and difficult to
distinguish from the true wheat. For the space of forty years, the views
of Arius on the Person of Christ had prevailed in Constantinople, and
the churches of the city were in the hands of that theological party.
Only in one small chapel, the Church of Anastasia, was the Creed of
Nicæa upheld there by Gregory of Nazianzus, and despite his eloquence he
was a voice crying in the wilderness. But Theodosius, having been won
over to the Nicene Creed, determined to make it the creed of the State.
Accordingly, upon his arrival in Constantinople on the 20th of November
380, he sent for Demophilus, the Arian bishop of the city, and commanded
him either to accept the orthodox views or leave Constantinople.
Demophilus had the courage of his convictions, and, bidding his flock in
S. Sophia farewell, left the capital in obedience, as he said, to the
injunction, "When they persecute you in one city, flee ye to another."
All the churches of the city were now transferred to the orthodox party.
The Arians, however, maintained religious services according to their
own tenets outside the city walls, in the district known as the
Exokionion (quarter of the outside column). The name was due to the
presence there of a column surmounted by a statue of Constantine. Owing
to their association with the district, Arians were sometimes designated
Exokionitæ. The district lay immediately outside the gateway in the
Constantinian walls already noted as the Ancient Gate of late
Byzantine times, and as Isa Kapoussi since the Turkish Conquest. It can
therefore be readily identified, and, curiously enough, under the
disguise of a Turkish garb--Alti Mermer, the Six Marbles--the locality
still retains its old name. For the Turkish designation is due to a
misunderstanding of the meaning of the term Exakionion, a corrupt form
of Exokionion frequently employed by Byzantine writers.
[Illustration: STREET SCENE, STAMBOUL]
In pursuance of his religious policy, Theodosius furthermore convened at
Constantinople an assembly of 355 bishops, known as the Second General
Council, to reaffirm the Nicene Creed as the true Catholic faith, and to
restore the orthodox character of the capital of the East. At this
Council, the question of precedence between the Sees of Rome, Antioch,
Jerusalem, Alexandria, and Constantinople, which awakened burning
jealousies in the Christian world, was finally settled. The first place
was assigned to the Bishop of Rome, the prestige of the ancient capital
asserting itself, but the second place was given to Constantinople,
because it was New Rome, notwithstanding the closer connection of the
remaining rival Sees with the earlier history of the Christian faith. In
this decision, political reasons outweighed religious considerations.
But while thus occupied with high matters of Church and State,
Theodosius did not forget the embellishment of his capital. On the
contrary, what Theodosius did for that object, and left to his son and
grandson to complete, entitles him to be regarded as the second founder
of Constantinople. Under his auspices, a great forum, named the Forum of
Theodosius and the Forum of Taurus, was constructed on the summit of the
hill now occupied by the Turkish War Office. It was the largest forum in
the city, and there Theodosius erected a hollow column, _columna
chochlis_, similar to the column of Trajan and the column of Marcus
Aurelius at Rome. For better or worse, the desire to emulate Rome was
always an ambition of the young capital. Around the exterior of the
column winded a spiral band of bas-reliefs commemorating the exploits of
the Emperor, while the stairway within led to his statue on the summit.
Up that stairway, the Emperor Murzuphlus was taken to the top of the
column by the Crusaders of the Fourth Crusade after their capture of the
city in 1204, and then barbarously hurled to the ground. Certain
persons, who became wise after the event, then pointed to a figure
represented on the column as falling from a high turret, and read there
the prophecy of this outrage upon humanity. The column was taken down
by Sultan Bajazet II. (1481-1512) to furnish material for the bath he
constructed in the vicinity. So does glory vanish. To the forum was
attached, as usual, a Basilica, the Basilica Theodosiana, 240 feet long
by 140 wide, remarkable for twelve marble columns 25 feet in height. To
the same Emperor is also ascribed a lofty pyramidal structure, in or
beside the forum, surmounted by a movable bronze figure to indicate the
direction of the wind, and appropriately named the Anemodulion. Judging
from the descriptions we have of it, the edifice displayed considerable
artistic taste. Upon it stood, in characteristic forms, the statues of
the twelve winds on the list of ancient meteorologists. There, one could
hear youths blowing trumpets, see laughing Cupids pelting each other
with apples, and admire wreaths of foliage, flowers, and fruit. It
recalls the Temple of the Winds at Athens. Another erection of the time
of Theodosius was the Golden Gate which was subsequently incorporated in
the fortifications built by his grandson and namesake, Theodosius II. It
was originally designed as a triumphal arch to celebrate the victory of
Theodosius I. over Maximus, who had usurped the throne of the western
division of the Empire, and through that archway Theodosius passed
three years later, when he returned to Constantinople in triumph. Like
similar monuments, the Golden Gate consisted of three arches, the
central arch being loftier than its companions, and was decorated with
statues of the Emperor, Victory, the Fortune of the city, and a group of
elephants in bronze. Upon the two fronts of the central arch was a Latin
inscription in gilt metal letters, gleaming like a crown of gold upon
the head of the gateway. The legend, "Theodosius adorns this place,
after the doom of the usurper," looked towards the west; while the
words, "He who constructed the Golden Gate brings in the Golden Age,"
faced the east. When incorporated in the fortifications of Theodosius
II., the Golden Gate served as the State entrance to the city.
Another monument of the city due to Theodosius is the obelisk which
still keeps its place, as though the symbol of eternity, amid the ruins
of the Hippodrome. It was brought from Egypt before the Emperor's reign,
but was successfully placed in position under his auspices, and two
inscriptions, one in Latin, the other in Greek, record the pride which
the achievement excited. They read to the effect that what others had
vainly attempted was accomplished by Theodosius during the prefecture
of Proclus--the time taken being thirty days according to the Latin
legend, thirty-two days according to the Greek version.
[Illustration: A VILLAGE STORE AT KAVAK]
The bas-reliefs of the pedestal on which the obelisk stands, however
little they flatter the art of the period, are extremely interesting for
the glimpses they afford us of life in Constantinople under Theodosius
I. Any one who wishes to look upon the events of that distant day, and
cares to breathe the atmosphere in which his fellowmen then lived,
should come and linger before these weather-worn figures in which the
Past is perpetuated. They are not of "Attic shape"; they have not the
"fair attitude" of "the brede of marble men and maidens," with which
Grecian urns were overwrought. Nevertheless, they too set the permanent
against the transitory scenes of our human history. Here the obelisk is
still being dragged through the city to the Hippodrome amidst the
deafening shouts of an enthusiastic population; it is still hoisted in
breathless silence and suspense from the ground, and set firm upon its
base to stand erect for these fifteen centuries. Here four-horse
chariots are still driving furiously around the _spina_ of the
race-course; the banners of the Factionsblue, green, white, red--still
wave frantically in the air; the crack of whips, the cheers of
spectators, urging steed and driver onward and faster, may still be
heard; the acclamations, the strains of music, the joyous dance, the
wild frenzy when the Emperor crowns the victor's brow with laurel still
rend the air. Theodosius, his Empress, his two sons, Honorius and
Arcadius, still stand or sit before us. Here are the senators of New
Rome, and the courtiers in attendance upon the Emperor. Barbarians,
eastern and western, are here doing homage on bended knee to their
conqueror, and offering him tribute. Here are the Gothic troops which
Theodosius subdued and won to his side, wearing their golden collars,
and guarding him with spear and shield. Here the people of the city hold
colloquy with their sovereign through the tall heralds--mandatores--who
stand on the steps leading to the imperial tribune. Here Christianity
with the Labarum in its hand triumphs, and in the Greek and Latin speech
inscribed upon these stones we still listen to the voices that mingled
in the Græco-Roman world.
Other works of Theodosius could be mentioned, such as the improvement of
the Harbour of Eleutherius (at Vlanga Bostan), and the palaces erected
for the accommodation of members of the imperial family. But perhaps
we shall obtain a more vivid impression of the extent to which the
growth and improvement of Constantinople were due to this Emperor, from
the impression which the changes he introduced made upon the mind of a
contemporary who had known the city from the days of Constantius. "No
longer," exclaims Themistius, as he surveys the altered aspect of the
place, "no longer is the vacant ground in the city more extensive than
the ground occupied by buildings; nor is the land under cultivation
within the walls more than that which is inhabited. The beauty of the
city is no longer scattered over it in patches, but is now continuous
throughout its whole area, like a robe finished to the very fringe. The
city is resplendent with gold and porphyry; it boasts of a new forum,
named after the Emperor; it is provided with baths, porticoes, gymnasia,
and what was its former extreme limit is now its centre. If Constantine
could see the city he founded, he would look upon a glorious and
splendid scene, not upon a bare and naked void; he would behold it fair,
not with apparent, but with real, beauty." The mansions of the wealthy
were now larger and more stately; the suburbs also had grown. "The
city," continues the orator, "is full of carpenters, builders,
decorators, and every other class of artisans, so that it might fitly be
described as a workshop of magnificence. Should the zeal of the Emperor
to adorn the city continue, a wider circuit will become necessary, and
the question will arise, whether the city added to Constantinople by
Theodosius does not excel in splendour the city which Constantine added
to Byzantium."
[Illustration: GALATA TOWER FROM THE BRIDGE
The stairway down which the Turkish lady is hurrying leads to one of the
many steamboat piers adjoining the bridge.]
In the reign of Arcadius, events of great moment in the history of the
city occurred. In the first place, the government of the Empire, which
had been in the hands of Theodosius alone for a few months, was now
again divided between his sons, the West falling to Honorius, the East
becoming the dominion of Arcadius. This proved the final division of the
government, and prepared the way for the ultimate sundering of Europe
into two worlds. For it stimulated a conflict of interests and
occasioned a warfare of intrigues that strengthened the tendency for the
parts of the Empire to fall apart and form, practically, distinct
States. Thus, however, the individuality and independence of
Constantinople came to be clearly and fully asserted. In the next place,
under Arcadius, the question how far Constantinople and the Balkan lands
were to remain under the control of the Germans settled to the south of
the Danube reached its most critical stage. Would the East be
Teutonized, as the West was destined to be? Was the unity of Europe to
assume a Germanic form after the old Roman unity was broken? There were
moments in the reign of Arcadius when the signs of the times indicated
that the same destiny awaited both divisions of the Empire. Alaric, at
the head of the Visigoths, was ravaging the Balkan peninsula, and seemed
ready to establish a permanent kingdom there. Constantinople was full of
Germans. A fair-haired German lady, the Empress Eudoxia, shared the
throne of Arcadius. Germans were largely employed as workmen and as
household servants. Germans demanded liberty to worship in a church
within the walls, according to the Arian views introduced among them by
Ulfilas. Chrysostom, opposed their demand, and carried on a mission for
the conversion of the Goths in the city to the orthodox faith. The
politicians of the capital were divided into a Roman and a German party.
Gainas, a Goth, was in command of the army, and had become all-powerful.
At his instance, Rufinus and Eutropius, successively chief Ministers of
the Government of Arcadius, were put to death. He incited the
Ostrogoths settled in Asia Minor to rebel, and brought them over to
Europe to support his ambitious plans. He filled Constantinople with
Gothic soldiers, and twice attempted to burn down the palace. And when,
in view of the precautions taken against him, he found it prudent to
quit the city, it was with the idea of returning with a larger force to
make himself the master of the place. His plan failed, as such schemes
often fail, through an accident of an accident. A Gothic soldier treated
a poor beggar woman roughly; a citizen took her part and struck the
assailant dead. In the condition of the public mind, this proved the
spark which produces a tremendous explosion. The city gates were
immediately closed and the ramparts manned, while an infuriated mob went
through the city hunting for Goths, and did not cease from the mad
pursuit until the blood of 7000 victims had stained the streets of the
city. Gainas was pursued and defeated, and eventually his head was sent
to Constantinople by the Huns among whom he had sought refuge. This,
indeed, did not put all further trouble at the hands of Goths to an end,
but it was the knell of German domination in Constantinople and the
East. The reign of Arcadius is the watershed upon which streams, which
might have flowed together, separated to run in opposite directions and
through widely diverse scenes of human affairs. The inscription, "_ob
devictos Gothos_," upon the column of Claudius Gothicus now acquired a
deeper meaning.
But one cannot think of the reign of Arcadius without recalling the fact
that for six years of that reign Constantinople was adorned by the
virtues, and thrilled by the eloquence, of John Chrysostom. Although
popular with the masses, he provoked the bitter hostility of the Court
and of a powerful section of the clergy, by his scathing rebukes of the
frivolous and luxurious habits of fashionable society, and by the
strictness of his ecclesiastical rule. He had the misfortune to quarrel
with the ladies of the city, including the Empress, for their
extravagance and looseness of manners. Ladies of fashion, for instance,
saw nothing unbecoming in taking a swim in the public cisterns of the
city. A sermon, preached while a statue of the Empress was being
inaugurated close to the cathedral of S. Sophia, filled the cup of his
offences. It may not be true that in the course of the discourse he
compared the Empress to Herodias demanding the head of his namesake,
John the Baptist. But whatever the precise form of his words, he said
enough to exasperate her to a degree that made her insist upon his final
banishment, notwithstanding all the popular opposition to that step. By
a strange fate, the pedestal of the column which bore the statue still
remains, being now placed for safe keeping within the railing that
encloses a narrow strip of ground on the northern side of the Church of
S. Irene, in the first court of the Seraglio. A Latin inscription upon
it records the erection of the monument in honour of Eudoxia, ever
Augusta, by Simplicius, the Prefect of the city; while an inscription in
Greek adds the information that the statue was of silver, the column of
porphyry, and that the monument stood near the Senate-House.
Notwithstanding, however, the anxieties of the period, the improvement
of the city continued to go forward. The splendour of the Court was
increased by the erection of four princely mansions, placed respectively
at the disposal of the Empress and her three daughters, Arcadia, Marina,
and the famous Pulcheria. New Thermæ were built, one of them, the Thermæ
Arcadianæ, situated near the Sea of Marmora on the level tract below S.
Irene, being a great ornament to the city. A more abundant supply of
water was secured by the construction of the large open reservoir,
whose basin, 152 metres square, now occupied by vegetable gardens and
houses, is still seen to the south-west of the Mosque of Sultan Selim,
above the quarter of the Phanar. But the most notable addition to the
equipment of the capital was a great forum placed upon the summit of the
Xerolophus, the hill at the south-western corner of the city. It was
commonly known as the Forum of Arcadius, but sometimes also as the Forum
of Theodosius, on account, probably, of additions made to it by
Theodosius II., the son and successor of Arcadius.
[Illustration: REFUGEE HUTS ON THE MARMORA
This pile of huts is perched on the old seaward walls overlooking the
Sea of Marmora. Petroleum cans are largely used for building material.]
As usual, the forum was surrounded by porticoes and adorned with many
statues; but its chief ornament was another lofty hollow column similar
to that in the Forum of Theodosius I., thus furnishing the city with the
same number of that class of columns as Rome possessed. On the summit of
the monument stood the statue of Arcadius, and the procession of
sculptured figures that winded their way around the shaft to his feet
celebrated his victories over the Goths. The column held its place, in
spite of storms, earthquakes, and fires, until 1715, when, threatening
to fall, it was taken down as far as its pedestal, for the safety of
neighbouring buildings. But it was inspected by many European visitors
to Constantinople previous to that date, with the fortunate result that
we have drawings and descriptions of the monument which allow us to form
some adequate idea of its general appearance and artistic merits. It
stood upon a platform of three steps, the uppermost step being 33½
feet square. The pedestal, a hollow cube, rose 26 feet high, each side
consisting of six huge blocks of marble. Along its upper portion it was
adorned profusely with wreaths, eagles, genii, and other usual forms of
architectural decoration, while the eastern, western, and southern sides
were covered with triumphal scenes in bas-relief. "Along the highest
part of the pedestal, on the southern side," says the traveller Wheler,
"one sees the Labarum in a wreath held by two Victories. Below it, are
the Emperors Arcadius and Honorius, in honour of whom the column was
erected, with two Victories crowning them in presence of a crowd of
senators. Still lower down, in a third line, appear Victories contending
with one another, and several figures wearing mural crowns, representing
the cities conquered by the armies of the two Emperors." From the
pedestal to the summit of the column 23 drums of marble, so well joined
as to seem one piece of stone, soared some 121 feet higher to give
the monument a total altitude of 146 feet. The figures on the upper part
of the shaft were larger than those nearer the ground, so as to appear
of the same size as the latter when seen from a distance. The hollow
shell of the shaft was 28 feet round, and from 2 feet to 1¾ foot
thick, the thickness diminishing as the shaft ascended. From the door in
the northern side of the pedestal 233 steps, lighted by 50 lights, led
one through the shaft to a door opening upon the abacus of the capital,
a platform 17¾ feet square, from which to survey securely the
glorious panorama presented by the great city below, and the surrounding
landscape of sea and islands and mountains.
[Illustration: TURKISH DELIGHT FACTORY
The contents of the large copper pans are kept stirring for two hours or
more over a wood fire; various flavourings are added during this process
according to the result desired; those mostly in use are essence of
almonds, vanilla, rose leaves, almonds and pistachios.]
CHAPTER III
THE MAKING OF CONSTANTINOPLE UNDER THEODOSIUS II.
408-447 A.D.
SUCH ornamental public works, as have been described, were, like the
blossoms on a plant, indications of the general growth and flourishing
state of the city. In point of fact, we learn from historians of the
times that the population increased at an extraordinary rate, and put a
severe strain upon an adequate supply of food and of sufficient
accommodation. The ships importing wheat from Egypt, Asia Minor, Syria,
and Phoenicia had all they could do to provide enough bread for the
hungry multitudes of the new capital. The dwellings in the city were so
closely packed, that the inhabitants, both at home and out of doors,
felt cribbed, coffined, and confined. The narrow streets were so
encumbered with beasts of burden carrying building material in all
directions, that it was dangerous to walk abroad. Ground for building
had become so scarce that land had to be made by filling in portions of
sea along the shores of the city, and the houses on that artificial
ground alone formed a considerable town. And so the time came when it
was no longer possible to keep the city within the bounds prescribed by
its founder, and measures had to be taken to give Constantinople the
size and strength required by the altered circumstances of its history.
This was done in 413, early in the reign of Theodosius II., and
eighty-five years after the foundation of the city. The western limits
of New Rome were then carried to the line of fortifications, whose
ruins, like veteran warriors loth to quit their post, stretch to-day
from the Sea of Marmora to the old Byzantine Palace, known by the
Turkish name Tekfour Serai. At the latter point the new bulwarks joined
the walls which guarded the outlying 14th ward, the suburb of Blachernæ,
and thus enclosed the city down to the Golden Horn. By this change the
area of Constantinople was almost doubled, and reached its final size.
Any additions to the dimensions of the city after 413, as in the 7th
century when the tract now occupied by the quarter of Aivan Serai was
enclosed, or again in the 11th century when the Palace of Blachernæ was
protected by new ramparts, were extremely insignificant additions, and
were made not for the sake of obtaining more room but for strategic
reasons.
[Illustration: FLOWER-SELLERS
Some of the gypsies wear garments rivalling in brilliancy the flowers
they sell.]
This extension of the city's limits involved, of course, the erection of
new fortifications. Indeed the demand to make the capital of the East a
mightier stronghold was not less urgent than the necessity to enlarge
its borders. No statesman of the 5th century of our era could fail to
realise the formidable character of the barbarian peril which then
lowered over the Empire. A period in which an Alaric, an Attila, a
Genseric, insulted the majesty of the Roman name, and trampled upon
Roman strength, a period in which the Eternal City was captured and
sacked, in which Carthage was lost, and the original fabric of the
Empire in the West was levelled to the ground, must have been a time
when the minds of serious men were troubled by fears and anxieties.
These disasters necessarily cast, ere they came, long and dark shadows
before them.
Most fortunately for the eastern division of the Empire it had, early in
this critical period, a statesman at the head of the Government who
comprehended the situation, and who had the sagacity to devise measures
by which the strength of the impending storm might be greatly reduced,
if not broken. During the first six years of the reign of Theodosius
II., who ascended the throne when a child of eight years, the government
was in the hands of Anthemius, the Prætorian Prefect of the East. His
abilities and character had already made him conspicuous towards the
close of the reign of Arcadius. Chrysostom admired him greatly, and
described him as a person who honoured any office he held more than the
office honoured him. And now that he was Regent of the Empire he did all
in his power to prepare the ship of State to encounter the coming
tempest. His first step for that purpose was to establish peace with
Persia, the standing rival and foe of the Empire. In the next place, he
forced the Huns who had appeared to the south of the Danube to retrace
their steps, and placed a flotilla of warships upon the river to prevent
the return of those fierce barbarians. At the same time he strengthened
also the Illyrian fortresses to render the north-western frontier more
secure. Then, warned by a bread riot in Constantinople due to a scarcity
of wheat in the city, he made arrangements for a more regular supply of
grain from Egypt, thus making the population of the capital more
friendly to the Government. And lastly, as the crowning act of his
administration, he decided to array the city in new and better armour,
and make it the strongest citadel in the Roman world. The great wall,
flanked by ninety-six towers, which forms the innermost line of the
fortifications along the landward side of the city, notwithstanding the
changes it has undergone since his day, is even in its ruins, a
magnificent monument to his wisdom, and to his devotion to the public
weal. Those ramparts proved the shield of European civilisation for more
than a thousand years. Their erection was one of those great acts in
history which confer priceless benefits on mankind.
The change made by Anthemius in the position of the landward walls
involved also the extension of the seaward fortifications to join the
extremities of the new western limits. But, although that work must have
been included in the plans of Anthemius, it was postponed for no less
than a quarter of a century. Lack of funds, or the demands of more
urgent necessities, or that happy sense of security from naval attack,
in which the Government of Constantinople was tempted to indulge, in
view of the city's geographical position, may account for the delay.
But whatever the explanation of the postponement, the gap in the
defences of the capital could not be left open indefinitely, and at
length, in 439, the thirty-first year of the reign of Theodosius II.,
the shores of the city were enclosed by Cyrus, the then Prefect of the
city. It was the year in which the Vandals took Carthage, and possibly
the alarm excited by their successes in Africa roused Constantinople to
defend itself at every point.
[Illustration: CARPET-MENDERS
These boys are engaged in patching up the holes in old carpets; they are
very skilful in matching the faded colours that are so highly prized in
the genuine antique.]
Scarcely, however, had the city girded on its full armour, when, in the
year 447, one of those violent earthquakes, to which Constantinople was
liable, shook the city, and overthrew a large portion of the wall of
Anthemius, with fifty-seven of its towers. The seaward walls of Cyrus
were also injured at the same time. Struck with panic, the population
rushed from the city to the open country, as far away as the plains
about the suburb of the Hebdomon (Makrikeui), and there, with Emperor,
Senate, and clergy, offered prayers and supplication that the quaking
earth should keep still. It was a terrible catastrophe under any
circumstances, but it was the more so at the moment when Attila was
sweeping everything before him in his advance upon the city. The crisis
was, however, met with extraordinary energy. Under the direction of the
Prefect Constantine (whom some authorities identify with Cyrus) the
calamity which had overtaken the city was turned into an opportunity of
building more formidable fortifications than those which had been
destroyed. Requisitions of money and materials were made upon the
citizens, and the Factions of the Hippodrome now vied with each other in
the race to build the most and the fastest. Not only was the wall of
Anthemius repaired, but at a distance of about twenty yards in front of
it was placed a second wall, also flanked with ninety-six towers, and
then at a distance of some twenty yards from the latter line a broad and
deep moat was constructed, with a battlement breast-high surmounting its
inner side. So vigorously was the work pressed forward that the second
wall was completed in two months. Thus, the capital stood behind a
barricade 190-207 feet thick and 100 feet high, comprising four lines of
defence, that rose tier above tier to permit concerted action, with
ample room for the operation of large bodies of troops, and affording
numerous points of vantage from which to pour upon an enemy every
missile of death in the arsenal of ancient warfare--arrows, stones, and
Greek fire. If men did their duty, the city was now impregnable, while
the Prefect Constantine earned the right to be associated with
Anthemius, as one of the forgers of the weapons with which
Constantinople defended the higher life of mankind against the assaults
of barbarism for ten centuries. Two inscriptions on the Gate Yeni
Mevlevi Khaneh Kapoussi (the ancient Gate of Rhegium)--one in Greek, the
other in Latin--have proclaimed the services of the Prefect Constantine
from his day to the present time. "In sixty days, at the command of the
sceptre-loving Emperor, Constantine the Eparch built wall to wall," says
the former in modest terms. The Latin legend breathes the pride and
satisfaction which the work inspired. "By the commands of Theodosius,
the second month not being completed, Constantine set up these strong
fortifications. Scarcely could Pallas have built so quickly so firm a
citadel."
But the erection of the new walls of the capital was not by any means
all the building done in Constantinople during the reign of Theodosius
II. The area added to the city naturally offered a wide field for
further construction. Much damage caused to the older portions of the
city by frequent fires and repeated earthquakes in the course of the
Emperor's reign, or shortly before it, had also to be made good. The
Church of S. Sophia, and probably the adjoining Senate-House, now rose
from the ashes to which they had been reduced when Chrysostom was
exiled. The Baths of Achilles and the Public Granaries in the vicinity,
destroyed in the fire which burnt down the quarter now marked by the
Stamboul Custom House, were likewise rebuilt at this time. To the
ornaments of the Hippodrome were now added the four gilt bronze horses
of Lysippus, which to-day adorn the Church of S. Mark at Venice, whither
they were carried as trophies of the capture of Constantinople, in 1204,
by the fleet of the Doge Henrico Dandolo.
In this work of city improvement no one made himself so prominent as the
Prefect Cyrus, already mentioned as concerned in the fortification of
the shores of the city. He was a poet, a student of art and
architecture, and, if not a pagan, strongly imbued with the spirit of
the old faith. Moreover, he was distinguished for great integrity, a
rare virtue among the officials of the day, and, in consequence, had
been appointed simultaneously Prætorian Prefect of the East and Prefect
of the city four times. It was doubtless with the view of checking
corrupt practices that he restricted the powers of the Prefect of the
city in the administration of the municipal revenues. Among the
improvements he introduced, the proper lighting of shops in the evening
is mentioned. His character and services made him immensely popular; but
the fact did not make him happier. The dread of the fickleness of
fortune ever cast its shadow over his mind, and he was often heard to
say, "I do not like Fortune when she smiles much." At length, his worst
fears were realised. Taking his seat one day in the Hippodrome, he
received a great ovation from the vast crowds assembled to witness the
races. "Constantine," they shouted, "founded the city; Cyrus has
restored it." Never had the capricious goddess smiled so benignantly
upon him, and never did she prove more treacherous. Such popularity
offended Theodosius, and he decided to break the idol of the people to
pieces. Cyrus was dismissed from office, deprived of his property, and
reduced to a political nonentity, by being consecrated Bishop of Smyrna
or of Cotæum in Phrygia. Such a proceeding appears very strange, but
probably we are ignorant of facts which would explain this
transformation of a pagan official into a Christian priest. One can
hardly believe that a man like Cyrus was insincere in his new character.
[Illustration: FRUIT-MARKET, STAMBOUL
The street dogs always select the busiest and most inconvenient places
for resting.]
The post assigned to the ex-Prefect was not attractive. Four of his
predecessors in the diocese had been murdered by brigands, and the
people committed to his care doubted the soundness of his faith. But in
a sermon preached on Christmas Day he conciliated his flock by orthodox
statements, pointing out at the same time that the mystery before their
minds was most honoured by silence. And he died unmolested by robbers.
It is curious to observe, in passing, how punishment here assumes a
religious form, and how men tried to hide their cruelty under the
pretence of doing good to the souls of their victims. In the subsequent
history of Constantinople, this species of penalty became common. It was
a symptom at once of the mildness and the meanness of the times.
But the reign of Theodosius II. is not distinguished only for the
material growth of Constantinople. It is not less memorable for the
advance of the city in its intellectual character, as the nursery of
learning and the seat of justice. In this reign the University of
Constantinople was opened. It found a home in the building known as the
Capitol, on the hill now occupied by the Turkish War Office. Judging
from the descriptions we have of the building, it resembled in its
arrangements a Turkish theological school, _medresseh_,--an open court,
surrounded by class-rooms on the level of the court. Some of the rooms
were spacious halls, richly decorated, and accommodating large
audiences. The studies pursued were chiefly grammar, rhetoric, and
literature, both in Latin and in Greek, there being thirteen professors
for these studies in the former language and fifteen in the latter. To
philosophy only one professor was assigned, while the department of law
was in charge of two professors. In the charter, so to speak, of the
University, particular stress is laid upon the need of a separate
class-room for each teacher, lest the different classes should disturb
one another by simultaneous talking and variety of languages, with the
result that the ears and minds of the students would be diverted from
their proper occupation. A candidate for a professor's chair was
required to undergo an examination before the Senate both as to his
learning and his character. After twenty years' service a professor was
rewarded with the title of a Count of the Empire. Only the professors
attached to the University were allowed to lecture in public, and they
were not permitted to give private instruction. The foundation of the
University had two objects mainly in view--to prepare young men for the
civil service, and to supersede the pagan schools of learning. It had
certainly a lofty ideal, for, in the language of an inscription that
refers to the institution, it was to be "a glory to scholars, an
ornament to the city, the hope of youth, weapons to virtue, and wealth
to the good." Thus, while the shadows of ignorance were gathering to
settle down upon western Europe, the light of knowledge was kept burning
in the capital of the East until the darkness passed away. The study of
Latin indeed was erelong abandoned in Constantinople, but Greek learning
had always its friends there, who handed that treasure down from century
to century, and bequeathed it at last to safer keeping and wider use.
Another act that does honour to the reign of Theodosius II. is the
codification of the laws enacted since the time of Constantine the
Great. The compilation took nine years to be made, and is known as the
Theodosian Code. How great a need it supplied is quaintly set forth in
the preamble to the Code. "The chaos presented by the state in which the
laws were found was such that few persons had an adequate knowledge of
the subject, even though their faces have grown pale from late
lucubrations." "When we consider," to quote Professor Bury's
translation, "the enormous multitude of books, the divers modes of
process, and the difficulty of legal cases, and further the hugeness of
imperial constitutions, which, hidden as it were under a veil of gross
mist and darkness, precludes men's intellects from gaining a knowledge
of them, we feel that we have met a real need of our age, and,
dispelling the darkness, have given light to the laws by a short
compendium."
[Illustration: CARPET WAREHOUSE
The interior of an old Khan now used as a show-room for antique rugs and
carpets.]
On 23rd December of the year 438, the Code compiled at Constantinople
was presented to the Senate of Rome and recognised by that body. It was
a curious reversal of the part which the elder city had acted in the
world. The teacher had become the pupil. Or is it truer to say, the
pupil then did homage to the teacher? The Theodosian Code was superseded
by the Code of Justinian the Great, but the earlier compilation retains
the honour of being the first great legal instrument to confer upon New
Rome the distinction of becoming the tribunal which has guided the most
civilised nations of the world into the paths of righteousness and
justice in the dealings between man and man. Into the religious
controversies which agitated Constantinople while Theodosius II. was
upon the throne, this is not the place to enter. But Constantinople
would not have been itself without a hard theological problem to
discuss, if not to solve, and we do not know the soul, so to speak, of
Constantinople unless we recognise what may be termed the religious
temperament of the city. At a period, indeed, when a great religious
revolution in the faith of men had taken place, and men were called to
make clear to themselves what exactly they believed, and how their
beliefs were to be harmonised with their philosophy and the general
principles of reason, religious questions could not fail to be prominent
everywhere. They were as naturally prominent in the fourth and fifth
centuries of our era, when Christianity became the religion of the
State, as they were at the time of the Reformation. But Constantinople
made these questions peculiarly its own. It could not well be otherwise
where the seat of the chief bishop of the Church in the East was found,
and in the capital of a Government which concerned itself in these
debates as matters of political importance. Nor can it be denied that in
the discussion of the subjects before the public mind we often witness
great intellectual acumen, and a profound religious spirit. Able and
pious men anxiously sought to reconcile faith in the unity of the
Divine, with faith in the intimate oneness between the Divine and the
human manifested in the life of Christ. No age is dishonoured by keen
interest in that theme.
[Illustration: SHOEMAKER, STAMBOUL
His business plant consists of an awning propped up against the wall of
a fountain and a few broken-down old stools.]
On the other hand, these discussions sometimes degenerated into idle
debate, and displayed some of the most odious feelings of human nature.
And Constantinople laid itself open to the well-known satirical
description of its theological bias by Gregory of Nyssa. "The city is
full of mechanics and slaves, who are all of them profound theologians,
and preach in the shops and in the streets. If you desire a man to
change a piece of money for you, he informs you wherein the Son differs
from the Father; if you ask the price of a loaf, you are told by way of
reply that the Son is inferior to the Father; and if you inquire whether
the bath is ready, the answer is that the Son was made out of nothing."
Under Theodosius II., the interest taken by the citizens of
Constantinople in theological controversy was all the greater, inasmuch
as the points at issue were raised by religious teachers in the capital
itself; one of the heretics being no less a personage than Nestorius,
the patriarch of the city. He denied the propriety of the epithet,
Theotokos, Mother of God, commonly bestowed upon the Mother of our
Lord. A great controversy followed, in which all classes of society,
from the Emperor and his family to the monks and populace, took part,
and displayed, as usual in such cases, a spirit unworthy of the
Christian name. So great was the commotion caused by the questions in
dispute, that two General Councils of the Church--that of Ephesus in
431, and that of Chalcedon in 451--were convened to affirm the orthodox
faith, if not to restore peace. And thus for some twenty years people in
Constantinople had all the theology they could wish to discuss. One
result of these religious troubles was to evoke the latent antagonism
between the different races which composed the population of the Empire.
Under the guise of religious differences, national diversities asserted
themselves. Rome and Constantinople, the West and the East, did not
learn to love each other better in the heat of such debates. While from
the Council of Ephesus and the Council of Chalcedon, the Armenian Church
and the Coptic Church date, respectively, their separation from the main
body of Christendom. The extent to which religious and political
aspirations are associated in the minds of the populations of the modern
East casts much light upon the formation of different Churches along
national lines in the earlier days of the Christian world, and also
enables us to understand why religious conflicts caused so much anxiety
to the imperial Government of New Rome.
Another feature in the religious life of Constantinople that became very
distinct in the time of Theodosius II., was the veneration cherished for
relics, and the growing desire to consecrate and enrich the city by
their presence. The body of Chrysostom was taken from its grave in
Pityus and entombed in the Church of the Holy Apostles, as an act of
reparation for the wrongs he had suffered, and as an atonement for the
sins of his persecutors. The supposed relics of Joseph and of Zacharias,
on their arrival in the city, were received with great pomp by the
Emperor, the Senate, and great officials, as though the saints were
being welcomed in person. Pulcheria brought the relics of the Forty
Saints martyred at Sivas, and enshrined them in a church she erected on
the Xerolophus. To her also is ascribed the foundation of the three
principal churches dedicated to the Mother of the Lord, S. Mary of
Blachernæ, S. Mary Chalcoprateia and S. Mary Hodegetria, to become
treasuries rich in relics of the Theotokos. The Empress Eudocia, on her
return to Constantinople from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, brought with
her, besides other relics, the portrait of Christ ascribed to S. Luke.
In this way, Constantinople grew to be a sacred city, a sanctuary to
which pilgrims came to acquire merit and receive benefits, almost as
great as those obtained by a pilgrimage to the land over whose acres
walked the blessed feet of the Saviour.
To omit all reference, however brief, to the influence of ladies in the
public life of Constantinople while Theodosius II. occupied the throne,
would be to omit an important feature of the time; a feature which often
reappeared in the subsequent life of the Empire, and profoundly affected
the course of its history. Pulcheria, the sister of Theodosius II., was
the power behind her brother's throne. She directed his education,
arranged his marriage, and was, with brief interruptions, the presiding
genius of his career. The vow of virginity which she had taken, and
which she persuaded her sisters to take, her charities, her activity in
building churches, her orthodoxy, all rendered her popular in devout
circles and with the dominant ecclesiastical party. To her was due the
strong religious tone of the Court, and in the theological disputes
that agitated the Church and the State in her day she took an active
interest, and helped materially to determine the particular form of
their settlement. Her opposition to Nestorius and Eutychius had much to
do with the condemnation of their views. And notwithstanding the
occasional loss of her influence over a brother who was too weak to
adhere steadily to a single course, she triumphed at last over all her
rivals, and upon his death mounted the throne as the consort of Marcian.
[Illustration: STREET SCENE, ROUMELI HISSAR
Roumeli Hissar is the most interesting of the many Turkish villages on
the shores of the Bosporus.]
The story of Athenaïs, and her marriage to Theodosius II., is well
known, but it will always retain the attraction which belongs to a life
in which romance and tragedy acted their opposite parts. A beautiful and
talented girl, brought up as a pagan by her father Leontius, who
cultivated philosophy in the schools of Athens, she came to
Constantinople to seek redress for what she deemed a great wrong. Her
father, at his death, had divided his fortune between his sons, and left
her to struggle with the world almost penniless. This arrangement was a
philosopher's eccentric way of indicating his appreciation of his
daughter's loveliness and genius, and his confidence that they would win
greater success for their possessor than any prosperity his money could
ever secure. But either because of her modesty or her practical sense,
Athenaïs differed from her father on that point, and wished his decision
reversed. We can readily imagine how her story would circulate in the
society of the capital, and make its heroine a topic of general
conversation and interest. It raised so many questions to discuss, it
appealed to the sympathy of so many feelings. Naturally, the charming
girl was introduced to Pulcheria. She soon won the affection and
admiration of the princess, under whose austerities a woman's heart
still beat, and it was not long before Pulcheria thought she could do
more for Athenaïs than obtain for her a share in the fortune of
Leontius. In fact she considered no one so fit to become the Emperor's
wife. The interest of Theodosius was readily excited by a description of
the maiden's charms: large eyes, the nose of Aphrodite, a fair
complexion, golden hair, a slender figure, graceful manners, clever,
accomplished, and "of wondrous virtues." Accompanied by his friend
Paulinus, he went to his sister's apartments, and standing concealed
behind a curtain, saw the fair form and was conquered. So Athenaïs
received baptism, and under the name of Eudocia became the bride of the
Emperor of the East. Like Portia, her father had scanted her and
hedged her by his wit that she might reach the pinnacle of human joys.
And with the spirit of Joseph in Egypt, she forgave the brothers who had
injured her, summoned them to Constantinople, and secured for them high
positions. Her talents appeared in her writings, and in her friendship
with the most intelligent men of the day. But erelong clouds began to
gather on this sunny sky. First came the natural rivalry between herself
and Pulcheria as to whether a wife's influence or a sister's would be
stronger over the mind of the Emperor; then estrangement, due to their
different temperaments and education; then diversity of theological
opinion, Eudocia taking the side opposite to Pulcheria in the
controversy raised by Nestorius. But perhaps these clouds might have
passed away, and the heavens grown radiant again, had not the friendship
between the Empress and Paulinus aroused the jealousy of Theodosius, and
excited his worst suspicions. According to a discredited tale the crisis
was brought about under the following circumstances--"One day the
Emperor was met by a peasant who presented him with a Phrygian apple of
enormous size, so that the whole Court marvelled at it. And he gave the
man a hundred and fifty gold pieces in reward, and sent the apple to
the Empress Eudocia. But she sent it, as a present to Paulinus, the
Master of the Offices, because he was a friend of the Emperor. But
Paulinus, not knowing the history of the apple, took it and gave it to
the Emperor as he reëntered the palace. And Theodosius having received
it, recognised it and concealed it, and calling his wife asked her,
"Where is the apple that I sent you?" She replied, "I have eaten it."
Then he bade her swear by his salvation the truth, whether she had eaten
it or sent it to some one. And Eudocia swore that she had sent it to no
man, but had herself eaten it. Then the Emperor showed her the apple,
and was exceedingly angry, suspecting that she was enamoured of
Paulinus, and had sent it to him as a love-gift; for he was a very
handsome man." But however idle this tale may be, the fact is that
Paulinus was put to death, and the Empress was banished to Jerusalem.
She spent the last sixteen years of her life there in retirement and
abounding charities, and died protesting her innocence.
[Illustration: GRAND BAZAAR, STAMBOUL
One of its many vault-like passages in which the merchants are
displaying their goods.]
Before concluding this account of the making of Constantinople, we must
note another of the characteristics which the city gradually manifested
in the development of its life--the tendency to cease to be Roman and
to become Greek. It is true, that in one sense Constantinople always
remained Roman, and this character of the city should never be ignored.
The people preferred to be known as Romans rather than by any other
name. No title of the Eastern Emperors was so glorious in their view as
to be styled the Great Emperor of the Romans. Roman law ruled in the
Empire of which Constantinople was the head. The autocratic power
inherited from strictly Roman days was maintained there to the last.
Names of offices, epithets of officials, the denomination of taxes,
legends upon the coinage of the realm, the terms in which Emperors were
acclaimed by the army or the Factions were long preserved in their old
Latin forms, but slightly, if at all, altered, and showed clearly the
family connection that bound Rome upon the Bosporus to Rome upon the
Tiber. Nevertheless, the daughter-city, though proud of her lineage, was
also eager to declare her independence and to assert her individuality.
It could not be otherwise. A city exalted to be the capital of the part
of the Empire under the sway of Greek traditions, and employing the
Greek language as a vernacular speech, would inevitably consider itself
called upon to embody and champion the peculiar properties of the
society of which it was the constituted head. Nor could a community
whose religious life was under the direction of a Church that worshipped
in the Greek tongue, and was stirred by the eloquence of the
Chrysostoms, the Gregories, and the Basils of the East retain a Roman
complexion and character without serious modifications. So long, indeed,
as the western division of the Empire existed, the political union
between Rome and Constantinople proved a check upon the Greek bias of
the latter city, owing to the necessity of using Latin, as the language
whose writ could run equally in both parts of the Roman world. The Popes
of Rome, with characteristic insight, recognised the value of a common
official language as a bond of unity, and an instrument of maintaining
universal rule. The use of the Latin in the services and administration
of the Roman Church is a master-stroke of political genius. But when
partly by the estrangement of the two portions of the Empire, and partly
by the Fall of the Empire in the West, the need of a common speech
ceased to exist, the stream of tendency in the East was left free to
follow its natural bent.
[Illustration: A BLACKSMITH'S SHOP]
Within the period under review we see, of course, only the early
symptoms of the Greek bias to gain ascendency, but though these symptoms
are comparatively slight, they are the proverbial straws that indicate
the direction of the wind. While Latin alone glitters in the
inscriptions upon the Golden Gate, Greek also is allowed a place in the
legends which celebrate the elevation of the obelisk upon its pedestal
in the Hippodrome. The pedestal adorned by the statue of the Empress
Eudoxia likewise bore a bilingual inscription. The extraordinary energy
displayed by the Prefect Constantine in the erection of the outer
Theodosian Wall is lauded, on the Gate of Rhegium, in both languages.
Probably the same was the case in the record of that splendid
achievement put upon another gate of the fortifications--the Gate
Xylokerkou--although the historian, owing doubtless to his ignorance of
Latin, has preserved only the Greek version. But the balance inclines in
favour of Greek, when, at the University of Constantinople, there are
more professors attached to the studies in that language than to the
studies in the tongue of the elder Rome. At the same time also, the
Prefect Cyrus introduced the custom of publishing decrees in Greek
instead of in Latin. And along with this preference for Greek in speech,
there is a marked growth of what was Greek in spirit. Thus in the
relations between the Empire and Persia, as well as in the relations
between the Empire and the barbarians, the Government of Constantinople
depends now for success rather upon the devices of diplomacy than upon
the force of arms. The negotiations between the Court of Theodosius II.
and Attila are a remarkable chapter in the history of the diplomatic
art--not of the noblest character. When Marcian replied to the demand of
Attila for an increase of the tribute paid to the chief of the Huns by
the Government of Constantinople, in the haughty terms, "We give gold to
our friends, and steel to our enemies," words were spoken that had
become somewhat unfamiliar, while the first Greek Emperor, as Theodosius
II. has been styled, sat upon the throne.
Furthermore, it is the Greek spirit, not the Roman, that appears in the
theological speculations of the Eastern Church, in the stress laid on
correct thinking, and in the philosophical development of Christian
dogma. After making every allowance for the vast difference between the
splendid genius of Ancient Greece and the mental life that flourished in
New Rome, it does not seem too much to say, that the old intellectual
temperament of Hellas survived and prevailed in the capital of the
East. There was undoubtedly, at all times, enough and to spare of
ignorance, superstition, and narrow-mindedness in Constantinople, but no
period in the history of the Byzantine world quite corresponds to the
Dark Ages in Western Europe. As in the Parthenon on the Acropolis of the
city with the violet crown, so, under the dome of S. Sophia, beside the
blue waters of the Bosporus, men agreed that the highest attribute of
the Divine, and the ideal of human attainment, is Wisdom.
CHAPTER IV
ALONG THE WALLS
For a person wishing to become acquainted with a great city, ready to
admire beautiful scenery, and furnished with adequate information,
nothing of the kind can be more interesting and memorable than to make
the circuit of the old fortifications of Constantinople. It is a tour of
thirteen miles, in the course of which, the city, set in the frame of
its splendid natural surroundings, is seen from many different points of
view, while at the same time the historical student travels through
eleven long centuries, crowded with events not only of local interest
but of world-wide importance.
_Along the Walls beside the Sea of Marmora_
The aspect which the city presents towards the Sea of Marmora and the
Asiatic coast is by many persons considered to be the most beautiful
view of Constantinople. It is certainly a very attractive view. Seated
on ground rising with long and steep ascent to the ridge of the
promontory, the city lies spread before you, from the Seraglio Point to
the Seven Towers, over an area five miles in length. As from every other
point so here also, Constantinople shows as much as possible of itself
at a time. It always appears in large dimensions, lofty, spacious,
far-reaching; never descending from its throne, never laying aside its
majesty, but constantly maintaining an imperial mien. Along the sky-line
is an array of domes and minarets that, in brilliant sunshine, gleam as
though made of whitest alabaster. While at the feet of the city lies a
sea of sapphire, lovely as a lake; not so broad as to place the city
into dim distance, yet wide enough to give the great metropolis
sufficient foreground to set off its size and dignity, to obliterate
petty details, to render prominent its salient features, to soften any
ruggedness, to silence its din, and make the quiet grey tones of its
dwellings blend harmoniously with the overhanging heavens and with the
surrounding waters. It is, if the expression is allowable, the most
poetical view of the Queen of Cities. Sometimes, an early watcher on the
Asiatic shore beholds a vision of extraordinary beauty. The silhouette
of the slumbering capital is seen against a darker mass of clouds that
gathered in the west during the hours of the night. Suddenly, in the
hush of dawn, a delicate pink light gleams on a minaret here or a dome
yonder. It tints minaret after minaret, dome after dome, house after
house. It spreads downwards and athwart, transfiguring everything its
rosy fingers touch, until the city, still set against a dark background,
is radiant with indescribable grace. Very beautiful also is the scene
towards sunset, when the slopes descending to the Marmora are in shade,
and the glowing vault of heaven is a canopy of glory; when the windows
in the dome of S. Sophia, as the last beams of day shine through them,
sparkle like jewels in a coronet, and the sea beneath seems woven of
crimson, gold, and purple. Nor can one fail to recall the soft tranquil
beauty of the scene when the Sea of Marmora glitters in the moonlight,
and the golden waters kiss the shadows of the broken towers and
battlements that watched and guarded the city in the days of old.
There is a grave in the British cemetery at Haidar Pasha, which,
contrary to the usual mode of interment, fronts westwards to be turned
towards this side of the city. It is the grave of an Englishwoman,
who, from her Asiatic home near Kadikeui, looked upon these views for
many years, and felt their spell so strongly, that by her express order
she was laid to rest in a position in which she might face their beauty
even in death.
[Illustration: SERAGLIO POINT FROM "THE STONES"
On the Seraglio hill in the middle distance is the palace formerly
occupied by the Sultans.]
The fortifications beside the Sea of Marmora consisted of a wall that,
for the most part, followed closely the sinuosities of the shore, and
was flanked, if the account of a mediæval traveller may be trusted, by
no less than 188 square towers. The works attained their full extent in
three distinct stages, corresponding to the successive periods in the
growth of the city. The portion from the Seraglio Point to the
neighbourhood of Achour Kapoussi represented the bulwarks of old
Byzantium. The portion from the latter point to the vicinity of Daoud
Pasha Kapoussi, the ancient Gate of S. Æmilianus, was added by
Constantine the Great, and possibly the wall bounding the vegetable
gardens of Vlanga Bostan, formed part of the original defences erected
by the founder of New Rome. The extension of the line from Daoud Pasha
Kapoussi to the southern extremity of the landward walls was a
consequence of the enlargement of the city in the reign of Theodosius
II. For the protection of these ramparts against the waves of the
Marmora in angry mood, boulders ranged in loose order were placed in the
sea, at a short distance from the shore, to serve as a breakwater.
Still, like Canute, the emperors of Constantinople often found that the
sea scorned their control, and was the worst foe these bulwarks had
cause to dread. For instance, a furious storm which occurred on the 12th
February 1332 hurled the waves over the battlements, opened breaches,
forced the gates, and poured devastation into every adjoining quarter.
In the spring of 764 the walls near the Seraglio Point were damaged
under most extraordinary circumstances. The preceding winter in the
regions along the northern and the western coasts of the Black Sea had
been so severe, that the sea itself was frozen hard to an immense
distance from the shore. Upon the breaking up of the frost-bound waste,
a long procession of ice-floes entered the Bosporus on their way to the
south. They came in such numbers that for some time the channel at the
Marmora end of the straits was blocked, and men crossed from Scutari to
Galata and to S. Mamas (Beshiktash), and from Chalcedon (Kadikeui) to
the city (Stamboul) with perfect safety. When at length the ice broke
again and moved forward, two huge fragments were flung against the
Seraglio Point by the swollen currents coursing in that direction. The
strange assailants towered above the battlements, and made the city
quake with fear before the weird enemy at whose cold touch strong
bulwarks crumbled to pieces. How frequently these walls suffered from
their exposure to storm and weather appears in the numerous inscriptions
found upon them in honour of restorers of the works. The most extensive
repairs were made in the reign of Theophilus (829-842), and large
portions of the existing walls belong to his reign. But many other
emperors were likewise concerned in maintaining these fortifications in
proper order, as for example, Leo the Wise, Basil II., Manuel Comnenus,
Michael Palæologus, Andronicus II., and Andronicus III. The legends
commemorating repairs are usually formal, laconic records of the names
and titles of the rebuilder of a tower or of the curtain of the wall.
Three of the inscriptions, however, allow us to see more into the heart
of the persons they celebrate, and bring us into touch with the spirit
of the times. One of them, forming a line 60 feet long, is found on the
wall to the north of Deïrmen Kapoussi, and reads to the following
effect:--"Possessing Thee, O Christ, as a wall that cannot be broken,
Theophilus the pious sovereign and emperor, erected this wall upon new
foundations; which (wall) Lord of All, guard with Thy might, and display
to the end of time standing unshaken and unmoved." The second
inscription referred to speaks more directly of the injury sustained by
the wall owing to the proximity of the sea:--"In the year 1024, Basil,
the pious sovereign, erected from the foundations this tower, which the
dashing of the sea, battering it for a long time with many and violent
waves, compelled to fall." The third inscription tells that in the year
1448, only five years before the fall of the city, George, the Despot of
Servia, contributed funds towards the repair of these defences, thus
showing clearly how well he understood that the fate of his kingdom was
bound up with the fate of Constantinople.
[Illustration: THE SERAGLIO LIGHTHOUSE AND SCUTARI
The lighthouse occupies a prominent position near the old palace of the
Sultans overlooking the Sea of Marmora.]
The fortifications beside the Sea of Marmora were not called to occupy a
prominent place in the active defence of the city; that is to say, they
were never the object of a serious hostile attack. This was only what
might be expected so long as the Empire maintained its naval
superiority to the enemies with whom it was called to contend. But the
Empire was not always master of the sea. And the immunity of these
fortifications from attack was then due to the difficulties which the
currents that sweep along this shore place in the way of the approach of
ships within striking distance. The fear that the currents would carry
his ships out to sea was the reason why Dandolo refused to bring the
fleet of the Fourth Crusade into action against this side of the
capital. The nearest semblance of an attack upon these fortifications
was when Heraclius, in 610, brought up a fleet from Carthage to depose
the tyrant Phocas, and took up a position before the Harbour of Julian
or Sophia, the remains of which are seen in the quarter of Kadriga
Limani below the Hippodrome. But that was more in the nature of a
hostile demonstration than an active assault, for the citizens welcomed
Heraclius as a deliverer, and carried Phocas to him as a prisoner. Still
the comparative security of these walls from attack did not warrant
leaving them in a state to tempt an enemy to strike a blow, and
accordingly, though sometimes neglected in time of peace, they were
promptly put in order whenever a hostile fleet was expected. This was
particularly the case during the period of the Palæologi, when Genoa and
Venice and the Ottoman Turks ruled on the sea, and the naval strength of
the Empire had fallen into utter decay. In the siege of 1453, the
Turkish fleet blockaded this side of the city from the Seraglio Point to
Vlanga.
In following the course of these walls to note the arrangements of the
city, and to recall historical associations, only a very brief mention
of what is most prominent and memorable is here possible. Beginning at
the head of the promontory, we have first the eastern portion of the
Seraglio Grounds, presenting to view the crags upon which stood the
Acropolis of old Byzantium. To become the master of that hilltop, with
its wonderful outlook and great strategic value was the ambition of
Xenophon and "The Ten Thousand" on their famous retreat from Persia, of
Philip of Macedon, of Severus Septimius, of Constantine the Great, not
to mention other aspirants. After the foundation of Constantinople,
until Turkish days, the site of the Acropolis formed an ordinary part of
the city, the most conspicuous edifice on that position being the Church
of S. Irene. There also was the hospital of Sampson, as well as that of
Eubulus. Among the buildings on the level tract below the Acropolis
were two theatres, inherited from Byzantium, one of which has left its
stamp in the hollow ground now occupied by the vegetable gardens to the
rear of Deïrmen Kapoussi. Scattered over the adjoining territory was a
crowd of churches in which saints encamped to guard this exposed point
of the city; a host led by S. Barbara, patroness of arms, S. George, the
Slayer of the Dragon, S. Mary Hodegetria, with her icon ascribed to S.
Luke, and regarded as a palladium. The Mangana or Arsenal, stored with
military engines for the defence of the walls, also stood in this
vicinity. The vaulted substructures near the ruins of Indjili Kiosk
belonged to the Palace of the Mangana, to which the imperial household
resorted to enjoy the cool breezes that winged their way down the
Bosporus from the north. Here also was a public park, the Philopation,
and an atrium built by Justinian the Great, crowded on summer
afternoons, when this side of the city is in shade, by people who loved
to look out upon the sparkling water, and the hills of the opposite
Asiatic shore, resplendent in the mellow light of the setting sun. The
fine building that formed the Thermæ of Arcadia was in this
neighbourhood, and a portion of the polo grounds, Tzycanisterion,
attached to the palace of the Byzantine emperors.
[Illustration: CRIMEAN MEMORIAL BRITISH CEMETERY, HAIDAR PASHA
Erected to the memory of the British soldiers and sailors who fell in
the Crimean War.]
Fifteen years after the Turkish occupation, Sultan Mehemet the Conqueror
transferred his residence from his palace on the hill now surmounted by
the War Office to this quarter of the city, and for the security of his
new abode built the wall that, on its way across the promontory, from
the Sea of Marmora to the Golden Horn, passes to the north of S. Sophia.
In its general plan the Seraglio was a series of three courts, opening
one into the other; and around and within them, embowered in groves of
plane-trees and of cypresses, rose the numerous and picturesque edifices
which served the convenience of the imperial household. But however
inferior in the magnificence created by art, no royal abode has ever
been invested by nature with the beauty and lordliness surrounding that
in which the Ottoman Sultans sat enthroned from Mehemet the Conqueror to
Abdul Medjid, with its grand outlook over Asia, Europe, and the great
waterway between the lands on the north and on the south.
"It was at once a royal palace, a fortress, and a sanctuary; here was
the brain and heart of Islam, a city within a city, inhabited by a
people, and guarded by an army, embracing within its walls an infinite
variety of edifices, places of pleasure or of horror; where the Sultans
were born, ascended the throne, were deposed, imprisoned, strangled;
where all conspiracies began and the cry of rebellion was first heard;
where for three centuries the eyes of anxious Europe, timid Asia, and
frightened Africa were fixed, as on a smoking volcano, threatening ruin
on all sides."
The slopes which descend from S. Sophia and the Hippodrome to the Sea of
Marmora, immediately outside the Seraglio Enclosure, are also haunted by
memories of splendour and power, for upon them stood the great palace of
the Emperors of New Rome from the time of Constantine the Great to
almost the end of the Byzantine Empire. The site did not command so
extensive a view of the Bosporus as the Seraglio enjoyed, nor had it the
outlook of the latter upon the Golden Horn and the busy life of the
harbour. But its prospect over the Sea of Marmora and the hills and
mountains of the Asiatic coast, rising to the snows of Mount Olympus or
merged in the pale blue of the distant horizon, was wider. It had also
the advantage of a sunnier and more temperate climate. The site was
furthermore recommended by its proximity to the Hippodrome, as direct
communication between the palace and that arena of the city's public
life, in serious or gay mood, was of paramount importance in
Constantinople as at Rome. We must therefore imagine these slopes wooded
with trees, and crowded with stately buildings, often domed, for the
accommodation of a Court which sought, in pomp and luxury never
surpassed, to find all that power and pleasure can do to satisfy the
human heart. As in the case of Byzantine churches, so in the edifices
forming the "Sacred Palace," artistic effort was chiefly devoted to the
decoration of the interior, and it was with similar means, marble
revetments and mosaics, that artistic effects were produced.
The throne-room, for instance, was, as we shall find in the sequel,
almost a facsimile of the Church of SS. Sergius and Bacchus. Like that
church it was an octagonal hall enclosed in a square, and surmounted by
a dome pierced by windows.
Each division of the octagon formed a bay under a semi-dome, and above
the bays was a rich entablature, with a cornice that projected so as to
constitute a gallery. The floor was paved with slabs of porphyry and
variegated marbles, arranged to form beautiful designs and set in
borders of silver, while walls and vaults gleamed with mosaics. The
hall was entered from the west, and in the bay directly opposite stood
the throne, with an icon of Christ in mosaic in the conch above it. The
bay immediately to the south of the throne was the emperor's
robing-room, leading to a chapel in which his robes of state, his crowns
and arms, and two enamelled gold shields, studded with pearls and
precious stones, were kept under the guardianship of S. Theodore. The
other state rooms of the palace were all varieties of the same type,
displaying more or less skill and taste, according to the fluctuations
of art in Constantinople. Of all the magnificence that once adorned
these slopes, nothing remains but unshapely masses of brickwork, broken
shafts, fallen capitals and empty sarcophagi! Slopes that vied with the
Palatine as a seat of power, they are without a vestige of the grandeur
that lingers around the ruined home of the Cæsars! The higher part of
the site of the palace is now occupied by the Mosque of Sultan Achmed,
the six minarets of which, combined with the four minarets of S. Sophia,
make so striking a feature in the aspect of this part of the city. Upon
the lower slopes lives a Turkish population that never dreams of the
splendour buried beneath its humble dwellings.
Close to Tchalady Kapou, and at the water's edge, are the ungainly ruins
of the residence of Justinian the Great and Theodora, before their
accession to the throne. Here began the romance of their lives. In
course of time additional buildings were put up at this point, and the
group thus formed became the Marine Residence attached to the Great
Palace. Here was the little harbour at the service of the Court, with
marble steps descending to the water from a quay paved with marble, and
adorned with many marble figures of lions, bears, bulls, and ostriches.
Here the Emperor embarked or disembarked when moving in his imperial
barge from one part of the city to another by water. One of the pieces
of statuary, representing a lion attacking a bull, bestowed upon this
Marine Residence the name Bucoleon (The Bull and Lion), under which
designation it is frequently mentioned in Byzantine history. There was
enacted the tragedy of the assassination of the noble Nicephorus Phocas
by John Zimisces, with the connivance of the Empress Theophano, the
victim's wife; a typical instance of the intrigues and crimes that often
dishonoured the palace of the Byzantine emperors. The story has
recently been told by the brilliant pen of Mr. Frederic Harrison, and
therefore must not be repeated. But the visitor to the spot can recall
the event with startling vividness, so well preserved is the stage on
which the tragedy was acted. Directly opposite, on the Asiatic shore, is
Chalcedon, where the conspirators joined Zimisces to proceed to the
scene of their cruel work. The Sea of Marmora over which, on that fatal
night, a snowstorm spread a veil to hide the boat which bore the
conspirators across the sleeping waters, comes up to the very base of
the palace. From one of the palace windows overhanging the sea, a
basket, attached to a rope, was let down again and again to the boat,
and again and again drawn up, with one conspirator in it at a
time--Zimisces being the last--until the whole band stood within the
imperial abode. And somewhere in the vaulted building we still find at
the water's edge, and whose ruins seem haunted by evil ghosts, was the
chamber in which the doomed emperor lay slumbering on the floor, and was
rudely awakened to know all the bitterness of ingratitude and the
sharpness of a cruel death. Geography and topography are certainly the
eyes of history.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE MOSQUE OF SULTAN AHMED I.
This mosque is beautifully decorated with blue and green tiles; on the
right is the minber (pulpit) built of marble intricately carved and
delicately tinted; behind it is one of the four great marble columns
that support the roof.]
To the west of the Bucoleon is the beautiful Church of SS. Sergius and
Bacchus, erected by Justinian the Great; for some account of which the
reader is referred to the chapters on the churches of the city. The
district extending thence to the ancient Gate of S. Æmilianus (Daoud
Pasha Kapoussi) is remarkable for having been occupied by the artificial
harbours, constructed, from time to time, on the southern side of the
city in the interest of commerce, or for the use of the imperial navy.
They were four in number, and, notwithstanding the changes of centuries,
they have left their impress upon the ground to a degree which allows
their site and contour to be clearly identified. First in the order of
position, though not of time, came the Harbour of the Emperor Julian,
below the Hippodrome. It has already been noticed in the history of the
making of Constantinople. It was used for some time even after the
Turkish Conquest, but was ultimately abandoned for the deeper water
found along the shores of the Golden Horn. The Harbour of the
Kontoscalion followed; in the quarter which the Greek population still
designates by that old name, but which is commonly known as Koum
Kapoussi. It has been filled in, but the mole remains, as well as a
considerable portion of the wall around the basin of the harbour. The
entrance could be closed against an enemy by great gates of iron bars,
and in bad weather three hundred galleys, of fifty or a hundred pairs of
oars, might be seen taking refuge here, waiting for a favourable wind.
Next in order was the Harbour of Kaisarius, known also as the Neorion or
Dockyard of the Heptascalon, which stood where the Turkish quarter of
Tulbenkdji Djamissi is now situated. But few traces of it are left.
Indeed its position had been forgotten, and its distinctness from the
other harbours along this shore ignored, until 1819, when a great fire
in the district revealed the fact that the quarter of Tulbenkdji
Djamissi stood in the basin of an old harbour, enclosed by a wall built
in three tiers of huge blocks. This agreed with other indications of the
presence of a harbour at this point hitherto left unexplained--a mole in
front of the shore of the quarter, and a gap in the mole forming an
entrance to which corresponded an old opening in the city walls, now
closed by masonry of Turkish construction. It harmonised also with the
description which the historian Pachymeres gives of a harbour
constructed or restored by the Emperor Michael Palæologus on this side
of the city. Here Phocas placed troops to oppose the landing of
Heraclius, and here also the Emperor Constantine Pogonatus, in 673,
stationed his ships, armed with Greek fire, to await the fleet of the
Saracens in the first siege of Constantinople by that formidable foe.
Last in order of position was the harbour on the site of the vegetable
gardens of Vlanga Bostan, a work, as we have seen, belonging to the time
of the founder of the city, and known first as the Harbour of
Eleutherius, its original constructor, and later as the Harbour of
Theodosius I., who improved it. Its mole and extensive portions of the
walls around it remain, and carry thought back to the city's earliest
days.
These harbours are a monument to the great commercial activity of the
city during the Middle Ages, and formed a feature in the life and aspect
of the place which has disappeared. Occasionally, in the fruit-season, a
considerable number of the ships and large caïques engaged in the
coasting trade between the city and the ports of the Sea of Marmora
anchor off the points once occupied by these harbours, and help the
imagination to recall the animation, the busy crowds, the varied
merchandise, the picturesque craft and strange crews that made what
is now an almost silent shore one of the liveliest and most interesting
quarters of New Rome. Owing to the sand thrown up against this coast,
all these harbours demanded frequent cleaning and restoration, and had a
hard struggle for existence. They were at length neglected, and, one
after another, turned into dry land on which to plant market gardens, or
build dwellings for the poor.
[Illustration: PRINKIPO (PRINCES ISLANDS)
A favourite summer resort of wealthy residents of Constantinople.]
The tract of the city extending from Vlanga Bostan to the landward walls
was noted for the number and importance of its churches and monasteries.
Conspicuous among them was the Church and monastery of S. Mary
Peribleptos in the district of Psamatia. It was destroyed by fire in
1782, and is represented by the modern Armenian Church of S. George,
generally styled, after the cistern beneath the old edifice, Soulou
Monastir.
The Church of S. John Studius, now a sad ruin, stood likewise in this
part of the city. So did the Church and monastery of S. Diomed, upon
whose steps one day, towards sunset, a way-worn youth in quest of
fortune lay down to rest, after his long journey from Macedonia, and
rose to become, in a capital where strange careers were possible, the
Emperor Basil I. He founded a dynasty that occupied the throne of the
Byzantine Empire for two centuries, and counted among its members such
notable sovereigns as Basil II. the Slayer of the Bulgarians, Nicephorus
Phocas the Conqueror of the Saracens, John Zimisces who drove the
Russians out of Bulgaria across the Danube.
CHAPTER V
ALONG THE WALLS BESIDE THE GOLDEN HORN
THE fortifications which defended the side of the city along the Golden
Horn consisted of a single line of wall placed, for the most part, close
to the water's edge and flanked, it is said, by one hundred and ten
square towers. Like the bulwarks along the Sea of Marmora, they attained
their full length gradually, according as the northern extremity of the
landward walls, which they were to join, was carried farther to the
west, when Byzantium expanded into the City of Constantine, when the
City of Constantine grew into the City of Theodosius II., and, finally,
when, in 627, the outlying level portion of the suburb of Blachernæ was
brought within the bounds of the capital. The points along the shore of
the Golden Horn thus reached were successively the Stamboul head of the
Inner Bridge, the eastern border of the quarter of Aivan Serai, and the
present point of junction with the landward walls on the west of that
quarter. But the actual wall is, substantially, the work of the ninth
century, when the Emperor Theophilus reconstructed the fortifications
along both shores of the city, as the inscription, "Tower of Theophilus,
Emperor in Christ," found until recently upon almost every tower of the
line, proclaimed to the world. In the course of the improvements made in
the quarters along the Golden Horn, extensive portions of the
fortifications have disappeared, leaving scant remains to interest the
visitor. It should be added that the safety of this side of the city was
further secured by a chain stretched across the entrance of the harbour,
from a tower near Yali Kiosk Kapoussi, the Gate of Eugenius, to a tower
known as the Tower of Galata, somewhere near Kiretch Kapoussi on the
opposite shore.
The view of Constantinople from the Golden Horn, whether seen from the
bridges that cross the harbour, or from Pera, is universally admitted to
be as impressive and beautiful a spectacle as any city in the world can
present. The visitor of a day recognises its wonderful attractions at
the first glance, and long familiarity never allows one to feel
satisfied that he has given to the scene all the admiration which it
deserves. The dominant feature of the view is lordliness, although
beauty is almost equally manifest. Men spoke truly when they conferred
upon New Rome the title "The Queen of Cities," for the aspect of the
city is not only lovely, but carries in its aspect the unmistakable air
of the majesty and authority that befit the capital of a great Empire.
Here is an eye "to threaten and command." The city spreads itself before
you for some three miles on both sides of the Golden Horn, seated upon
hills that rise steeply from the water's edge, and lift the long and
wide panorama high into view. The buildings are packed close together,
and rise tier above tier from the shore to the summit of the hills.
Great mosques, rectangular buildings surmounted by domes and flanked by
graceful minarets, occupy the most commanding positions, and crown the
city with a diadem of oriental splendour. The Golden Horn, one of the
finest harbours in the world, where the warships of a nation may ride
at ease, and great merchantmen can moor along the shore, is so inwoven
with the city as to be its principal thoroughfare, its "Grand Canal,"
alive with boats of every description, and spanned by bridges over
which the population streams to and fro in great tides. The city is
generally irradiated by an atmosphere of extraordinary clearness,
brilliance, and warmth of colour. Sometimes the solid earth seems
transfigured by the light into a glorious spiritual essence. Early in
the morning, Constantinople is often shrouded in a thick veil of mist,
and, as the sun gains strength, it is beautiful to see the veil
gradually rent at different points, and the objects it covered emerge,
piece by piece, one by one, now here now there, a dome, a minaret, a
palace, a red-tiled roof, a group of cypresses, as though a magician was
constructing the city anew in your presence, until the immense capital
gleams before you in its mighty proportions and minute details. Nor is
the vision less memorable towards sunset, when the lights and shadows
paint this varied surface of hills and valleys, of land and water, while
the long array of mosques and minarets upon the hills overhanging the
Golden Horn rests against the deepening glory of the sky. It is the
vision which Browning saw with a poet's eye:--
Over the waters in the vaporous West
The sun goes down as in a sphere of gold
Behind the arm of the city, which between,
With all that length of domes and minarets,
Athwart the splendour, black and crooked runs
Like a Turk verse along a scimitar.
[Illustration: GOLDEN HORN, EARLY MORNING
Beyond the pile of buildings in the foreground a glimpse of the Golden
Horn is seen with Stamboul partly shrouded in mist in the distance.]
The portion of the Golden Horn to the east of the Galata Bridge is
crowded with foreign steamships, among which those bearing the flags of
Britain, France, Austria, Italy, Germany, Greece, and Roumania, are the
most conspicuous. It may not be to the credit of the country, nor for
its greatest advantage, that so much of the commerce of the place should
be in foreign hands, but this gathering of the nations in the harbour of
the city is imposing; it is an indication of the central position
occupied by the city in the world's affairs, and contributes largely to
form the cosmopolitan character for which Constantinople is
distinguished. Here the nations assemble to compete with one another as
nowhere else in the world, at least in a way so manifest and decisive.
This was a feature of the life of the city also before Turkish days.
There was a time, indeed, during the Middle Ages when the commerce
between the East and the West was exclusively in the hands of the
subjects of the Byzantine Empire, when the merchants of Constantinople
were the merchant princes of the civilised world. But not to speak of
the interference of the Saracens with the trade of the city, the
formidable competition of the Italian Maritime States began to make
itself felt towards the close of the eleventh century, and from that
time onwards became more and more serious until it well-nigh destroyed
the business carried on by the native inhabitants. This was due partly
to the enterprise of the Italian merchants, and partly to the policy
which purchased the aid of the Western States against the foes of the
Empire by means of commercial concessions which proved detrimental to
domestic trade. It was thus that Alexius Comnenus secured the help of
Venice against the Normans, and that Michael Palæologus obtained the
support of the Genoese, when, in 1261, he undertook the task of
recovering Constantinople from its Latin occupants. The attack upon
Constantinople in 1203-1204 by the Fourth Crusade, at the instigation of
the Doge Henrico Dandolo, was essentially a piratical expedition to
capture the commerce of the East for the benefit of the merchants of
Venice. In the course of time the foreign traders in Constantinople were
allowed by the Byzantine emperors to occupy the territory extending
along the southern shore of the Golden Horn from the Seraglio Point to
Zindan Kapoussi. They were grouped according to their nationality,
and placed beside one another in the following order, Saracens,
Genoese, Pisans, traders from Amalfi, Venetians. After 1261, the Genoese
were settled in Galata, where they have left a monument of their
occupation in the strong and massive Tower of Galata, that formed their
watch-tower and citadel, and where they established, at the very gates
of the capital, so strong a rival, that, as Gibbon observes, "The Roman
Empire might soon have sunk into a province of Genoa, if the Republic
had not been checked by the ruin of her freedom and naval power." These
foreign communities were allowed to be self-governing, so far as the
Byzantine Government was concerned. They had their own courts of
justice, and their own places of worship, even the Saracens being
allowed to possess a mosque. A certain number of houses, a certain
extent of territory, and particular piers at which their ships could
moor for discharging or receiving cargo, were assigned to them, and, as
a rule, they paid lower duties than native merchants did. Sometimes, it
seems they were liable to render military service, as though feudal
vassals, but to all intents and purposes they enjoyed under the
Byzantine emperors very much the position which foreigners in Turkey
now occupy, in virtue of the Capitulations granted by Sultans to
European residents. The original copies of several of the commercial
treaties between the Empire and the Italian States are preserved in the
archives of Venice, Genoa, and other cities of Italy, and furnish an
interesting chapter in the history of diplomacy and commerce.
[Illustration: THE BRIDGE FROM GALATA
The sailing boats used in these waters are constructed so that the mast
and sail can be lowered in a few seconds to shoot the arches of the
bridge.]
The most picturesque portion of the Golden Horn is that which lies
between the two bridges. Along the Galata shore, a large flotilla of
gaunt native barges, with short masts and long oblique yards, is
generally moored, waiting to be employed in the transhipment of the
cargoes that leave or reach the port. Here also a mass of native
shipping is laid up for the winter, after the fashion of the early days
of navigation. It is a dense forest of bare masts and poles involved in
a network of cordage, with the steep hill, upon which the stone houses
of Galata and Pera are built, as a rocky background. After a night of
rain, the scene changes. Then from every yard and mast, heavy, damp
sails are spread in the warm, misty, morning air, and you seem to look
upon a flock of great sea-birds opening their wings to bask in the
sunshine. Along the opposite shore, surmounted by the domes and
minarets of the Mosque of Sultan Suleiman, the bank is fringed with
native craft, laden with fruit or oil from the islands of the Ægean Sea,
or bringing planks and beams to the timber-yards at Odoun Kapan from the
lands beside the Danube. Timber has been stored at that point ever since
the days of Justinian the Great, if not ever since the city was founded.
Caiques flit to and fro, as if shuttles weaving the sundered parts of
the city together. While companies of fearless sea-gulls spread grey
wings and white breasts over the blue waters, and dance around in every
graceful form that motion can assume. It is the portion of the harbour
in which the world of the East is still most clearly reflected. The
reach of the Golden Horn beyond the Inner Bridge is specially devoted to
the service of the Turkish navy, and there may be seen such modern
things as ironclads, torpedo boats, and torpedo destroyers. The time was
when the Ottoman fleet which gathered here formed an imposing display of
naval strength. The Admiralty, Naval Hospital, and Dockyard are situated
on the northern bank. On the hill above the Dockyard is the Okmeidan,
the field to which the Sultans whose strong arms built up the Ottoman
Power came to exercise themselves in the use of the bow. It is studded
with pillars commemorating the long shots made by the imperial archers.
[Illustration: GOLDEN HORN
Seen from the water's edge on a misty morning; crowning the distant
heights is the Mosque of Suleiman the Magnificent.]
The southern bank, with its steep slopes crowded with konaks, gardens,
mosques, minarets, is noteworthy for the number of Byzantine churches
still found beside the shore or upon the hill-sides, preserving the
memory and something of the aspect of the ancient city. Among them are,
S. Theodosia (Gul Djamissi), Pantocrator (Kilissé Djamissi), Pantepoptes
(Eski Imaret Djamissi), Pammakeristos (Fetiyeh Djamissi), Chora
(Kahriyeh Djamissi), SS. Peter and Mark (Atik Mustapha Pasha Djamissi).
Close to the western extremity of the shore stood the Church of S. Mary
of Blachernæ, once the object of profoundest reverence on account of the
wonder-working power attributed to the reputed girdle and mantle of the
Mother of the Lord, enshrined among its relics. The site is marked by
the Holy Well formerly attached to the sanctuary. On the hill above the
Well are the scanty remains of the famous Palace of Blachernæ, once the
favourite residence of the Byzantine Court. In the quarter of Phanar the
humble residence and the cathedral of the Patriarch of Constantinople
are found. What a contrast to the days when the chiefs of the Eastern
Church were enthroned under the dome of S. Sophia! In the quarter of
Balat, and at Haskeui on the opposite shore, are large settlements of
Jews, to whose lowly dwellings belongs the historical interest that they
are the homes of the descendants of the Jews who were expelled from
Spain by Ferdinand and Isabella, and found refuge here among Moslems
from persecution by Christians. They still use the Spanish language,
although not with the music of the speech of Castile. The suburb of
Eyoub at the foot of the hills at the head of the Golden Horn, and the
meadows beside the fresh-water streams which enter the harbour at that
point (the Sweet Waters of Europe) are interesting to all who delight in
Oriental scenes. No quarter in or around the city is so Turkish in its
appearance and spirit as the suburb of Eyoub. It contains the reputed
grave of Eyoub, the standard-bearer of Mahomet, who was present at the
first siege of Constantinople (673-678) by the Saracens, and who died
during its course. The grave was identified, so it is believed, in 1453,
when the city fell at last into Turkish hands, and the mosque erected
over the tomb is the sanctuary in which Sultans, upon their accession
to the throne, gird on the sword which constitutes them sovereigns of
the Ottoman Empire, and standard-hearers of Islam. It is a ceremony
which embodies the inmost idea of a Moslem State. No Christian is
permitted to enter the mosque. On a recent occasion the veneration in
which the edifice is held served a noble purpose. During the massacres
of 1896, a crowd of Armenians took refuge in the court of the mosque,
with the courage of despair. A wild mob followed, intent upon the death
of the fugitives. A terrible scene seemed inevitable. When, at the
critical moment, the imaum of the mosque appeared, and forbade the
desecration of the holy ground by the shedding of blood upon it. The
appeal was irresistible. The horde of murderers bowed to the command to
be gone, and their intended victims were allowed to escape. The sacred
associations of the suburb have made burial in its soil to be esteemed a
great honour, and, accordingly, many distinguished Turkish personages
have been laid to rest here from early times. The old turbaned
tombstones, inscribed with Arabic letters, painted with floral designs,
shaded by trees and overrun by climbing plants, form as picturesque a
cemetery as one can wish to see. The influence of the suburb is not
weakened by the fact that it enters into the life of Turkish children
by being a great factory of their toys. The hill above Eyoub commands a
magnificent view of the Golden Horn and the city. As to the scene in the
valley of the Sweet Waters, where Turkish ladies gather on Fridays in
early spring, it is no longer what it once was. The exchange of native
vehicles for carriages such as may be seen in Paris or London, and the
general use by Turkish ladies of quiet colours in their mantles and
head-dress instead of bright hues, have robbed the spectacle of almost
all its gaiety, originality, and decorative effect. The scene offers now
rather a study in the transformation of the Turkish woman, than a
presentation of her peculiar aspect and character. Still, as the change
is not complete, a stranger may yet find pleasure in seeing what
vestiges of former manners and customs have not disappeared.
[Illustration: SULEIMANIYEH AT SUNRISE
The Mosque of Suleiman the Magnificent, occupying one of the finest
sites in the city, is seen here at early sunrise emerging from the mist
on the Golden Horn.]
[Illustration: CEMETERY AT EYOUB
A cobble-paved pathway in the most picturesque cemetery in
Constantinople.]
Of the historical events of which the Golden Horn has been the theatre,
the most important are: first, the attack upon the walls along this side
of the city, in 1203, and again in 1204, by the Venetian fleet which
accompanied the Fourth Crusade; second, the transportation by Sultan
Mehemet into its waters in 1453, of warships over the hill that
separates the harbour from the Bosporus. The movements of the Venetian
fleet and of the army which accompanied it can be followed step by step,
so minute is the description of Ville-Hardouin and so unaltered the
topography of the country. Upon approaching the city the invaders put in
at San Stefano, now a favourite suburban resort upon the Sea of Marmora.
A south wind carried them next to Scutari. From that point they crossed
to the bay now occupied by the Palace of Dolma Bagtché, near Beshiktash.
There the army landed, and advancing along the shore attacked the tower
to which the northern end of the chain across the harbour's mouth was
fastened. Upon the capture of the tower after a feeble resistance, the
chain was cut, and the fleet of Venice under the command of Dandolo,
flying the ensign of S. Mark, rode into the Golden Horn and made for the
head of the harbour. At the same time, the troops marched towards the
same point, along the northern shore, where Cassim Pasha and Haskeui are
now situated. At the latter suburb they crossed the stone bridge that
led to Eyoub on the southern bank. Then turning eastwards, they seized
the hill facing the portion of the city walls above which the windows
and domes of the Palace of Blachernæ looked towards the west. While
the army prepared to attack that point, the ships of Dandolo stood
before the harbour walls, in a long line from Aivan Serai to the Phanar
and the neighbourhood of the present Inner Bridge. A desperate assault
followed, in which twenty-five towers were carried by the Venetians, and
the day would have been won, but for the repulse of the land forces and
the necessity to hasten to their relief. Soon a revolution within the
city against the usurper whom the Crusaders had come to depose, and in
favour of the restoration of Isaac Angelus, whose claim to the throne
they supported, seemed to bring the struggle to an end. As a sign that
amicable relations had been established, and to avoid the danger of
angry collisions with the citizens, the invaders removed their forces to
the northern side of the Golden Horn. But the conditions on which help
had been rendered to Isaac Angelus were too hard to be fulfilled; and
insistence upon them provoked the national feeling against the foreign
intruders. The imperial protegés of the Crusaders were murdered, or died
from fear, and the smouldering embers of the strife burst once more into
flames. The army of the Crusade was therefore taken on board the fleet,
and proceeded to make a joint attack upon the portion of the harbour
walls which Dandolo had once before captured. Victory wavered from side
to side. At length, on Easter Monday 1204, Venetian ships approached so
near to the walls in the Phanar quarter that bridges attached to the
masts settled upon the parapet of the fortifications. Brave knights
rushed across, cut down the defenders, clambered down into the city, and
threw open the nearest gates. The blind Doge, ninety years old, leaped
upon the beach, with the banner of S. Mark in his hands, and summoned
his men to follow. The Emperor Murtzuphlus, who watched these operations
from the terrace of the Church of Pantepoptes, fled, and for the first
time in its history, Constantinople became the prize of a foreign foe.
[Illustration: GALATA AND STAMBOUL FROM EYOUB
From the cemetery at Eyoub, overhanging the Golden Horn at the upper
end, an attractive panorama is presented. On the right are the domes and
minarets of Stamboul stretching away to Seraglio Point; in the distance
is Mount Olympus on the Asiatic coast, while on the right are Galata,
Pera, and the Arsenal.]
The transportation of a fleet over the hill that rises some two hundred
and fifty feet between the Bosporus and the Golden Horn was a skilful
piece of strategy, and formed one of the most striking incidents in the
siege of 1453. By compelling attention to the safety of the walls along
the harbour, it extended the line of attack, and weakened the defence of
the landward walls. To effect the passage, a road was made through the
ravines leading from Beshiktash on the straits to Cassim Pasha on the
Golden Horn. On that road well-greased logs were laid, like the sleepers
on a railway, and then some seventy or eighty galleys, of fifteen,
twenty, or twenty-two pairs of oars, were placed in ships' cradles and
dragged by men, oxen, and buffaloes, in the course of a single night, up
one slope and down the other, from sea to sea. The incongruous form of
navigation put everybody concerned in making the voyage into good
humour. Drums beat, fifes sounded, and to add to the zest of the
enterprise, the sails were unfurled, the oars were pulled, the rudders
set, as if the vessels were proceeding over their native element. But
the apparition of the enemy's ships in the Golden Horn afforded no
amusement to the besieged. It increased immensely their anxiety and the
difficulties of their task. A brave attempt to burn the Turkish vessels
failed, and though the flotilla actually did little in the way of direct
attack, it remained a standing menace to the northern side of the city
until the close of the siege, a thunder-cloud keeping men in constant
dread of the bolts that might dart from its black bosom. Very
appropriately, the Turkish Admiralty stands on the shore of the bay in
which an Ottoman fleet first rode the waters of the Golden Horn.
[Illustration: GOLDEN HORN AFTER SUNSET
When all traffic ceases, caïques, lighters, steamboats, and craft of all
kinds are taken to their moorings and the waters are silent and
deserted.]
CHAPTER VI
ALONG THE LANDWARD WALLS
IN the third chapter, occupied with the story of the making of
Constantinople, some account has been given of the portion of the
landward walls erected in the earlier half of the fifth century, when
the city was enlarged under Theodosius II., viz, the portion extending
from the Sea of Marmora, on the south, to the ruins of the Palace of the
Porphyrogenitus (Tekfour Serai) on the north. That seemed the most
appropriate place to speak of the origin and character of fortifications
which were built as much for the growth and convenience of the city in
its civic relations, as for its security as the citadel of the Empire.
To that chapter the reader who desires to recall the information given
on the subject, is referred. Here, after a brief account of the
additions made to the Theodosian walls, in subsequent times, we shall
consider the historical importance of the landward walls as a whole, and
glance at some of the scenes enacted before them.
The post-Theodosian portions of the walls that guarded Constantinople on
the side of the land extend from the courtyard of the Palace of the
Porphyrogenitus to the shore of the Golden Horn at Aivan Serai. They
replaced an older line of fortifications which ran, at a short distance
to the rear, between the same points, and were constructed to strengthen
the weak places which time revealed in this part of the city's armour.
First in the order of position, though not in the order of time, comes
the wall erected by Manuel Comnenus (1142-1180), for the greater
security of the Palace of Blachernæ, his favourite residence, which
stood within the old bulwarks, just mentioned. It terminates at the foot
of the steep hill on which the quarter of Egri Kapou is situated. With
its nine noble towers it presents a striking likeness to the
fortifications of a feudal baronial castle, and its solid masonry defied
the Turkish cannon in 1453. Then follow walls, the original date of
whose construction cannot be precisely determined, as they evidently
underwent frequent repairs and alterations. Here is found the Tower of
Isaac Angelus, and, in the body of the wall to the north of the tower,
are three stories of large chambers, very much ruined, which some
authorities regard as the cells of the State Prison of Anemas. More
probably, they were either barracks or store-rooms attached to the
imperial residence, and at the same time buttresses for the support of
the terraced hill on which the palace was built. Beyond this chambered
wall there is a double line of fortifications. The inner wall was
erected in 627, under Heraclius, after the siege of the city by the
Avars, to protect the quarter of Blachernæ and its celebrated Church of
S. Mary of Blachernæ more effectively in the future than when assailed
by that enemy.
The outer wall was built as an additional defence in 813, by Leo the
Armenian (813-820), in view of an expected attack upon the city by the
Bulgarians under Crum.
The territory outside the landward walls has indeed a charm of its own,
in its quiet rural aspect, and in the glimpses it affords of distant
blue water seen through dark groves of cypresses. But it cannot pretend
to the splendid natural scenery which confronts the shores of the Sea of
Marmora or of the Golden Horn, and makes the beauty of Constantinople
famous throughout the world. This, however, is not altogether a
disadvantage, for it allows the visitor to view without distraction the
imposing line of bulwarks ranged across the promontory from sea to sea,
and to appreciate calmly all their significance. On the other sides of
the city, the fortifications which guarded the Queen of Cities are
comparatively unimportant, and are easily lost sight of in the beauty of
their surroundings. Here the walls and towers are everything. Here they
attained their greatest strength; here they rendered their greatest
service; here, like troops bearing the wounds and scars of a great
campaign, they force the beholder to realise the immense debt which the
civilised world owes to Constantinople for the strength, the valour, and
the sacrifices devoted through long centuries to the defence of the
highest life of mankind against terrible foes.
[Illustration: THE WALLS; THE TOWER OF ISAAC ANGELUS
Part of the old fortifications, now in ruins, stretching from the
Marmora to the Golden Horn.]
Nor does the scenery which the walls themselves present need to borrow
attractions from any other source to render it the most picturesque and
impressive spectacle of the kind in the world. The alternate courses of
grey stone and red bricks in the structure of the fortifications; the
long lines of wall ranged in ranks, and rising tier above tier to
support one another in the terrible struggles they were called to
maintain; the multitude of towers, marshalled to guard the city and
Empire, great and small, of every shape, square, round, polygons looking
in six, seven, or eight directions, some intact after all the storms of
centuries, others bare, broken, fissured from head to foot, yet holding
together; inscriptions recalling wars, earthquakes, names of men who
have made history; towers crowned with ivy; trees interspersed between
the walls or standing upon the summit, like banners; crenellated
parapets affording glimpses of the blue sky behind, as though, in
Oriental phrase, the ramparts rose to the very heavens; all this
stretching for mile upon mile, from sea to sea, presents a scene of
extraordinary beauty and grandeur, not less attractive because of the
heroism and achievements of which it has been the theatre.
This is not the place for an extended history of the services which
these walls, and the Empire of which they were the citadel, rendered as
the shield of European civilisation. Enough to remember that the dread
of them dissuaded Attila and his Huns from delivering an attack upon the
city, although he approached as near to Constantinople as Athyras, now
Buyuk Tchekmedjé, some twelve miles distant. Doubtless they often
restrained the wrath also of other barbarous hordes. In vain did the
Avars, in 627, beat against these walls between Top Kapou (Gate of S.
Romanus) and the Gate of Adrianople (Charisius). In vain did the Arabs
invest these bulwarks from the spring to the autumn of four successive
years (673-677). As unsuccessful was the second siege of the city by the
same foe for twelve months (717-718). These fortifications defied the
Bulgarians both under Crum in 813 and under Symeon in 924. In 1203 they
repelled the valour of the knights and barons engaged in the Fourth
Crusade. They mocked the assaults of Sultan Murad, in 1422. And when
they succumbed, at length, to the artillery of Sultan Mehemet in 1453,
it was because their defenders were few and divided, and their
assailants were armed with weapons before which ramparts of stone, alike
in the West and in the East, crumbled to pieces, and old systems of
society were swept away.
The battles fought directly before the walls of New Rome do not, indeed,
give us the complete story of her warfare "per benefitio de la
Christiantade et per honor del mundo." On eight occasions, at least, the
armies of the East Roman Empire were drawn up on the plain outside the
Golden Gate to celebrate victories won on distant battlefields, and to
enter the triumphal Gate of the capital with prisoners, standards, and
spoils captured on hostile territory. To the shouts "Glory to God, who
has restored to us our sovereign crowned with victory! Glory to God who
has magnified you Emperor of the Romans! Glory to Thee All-Holy Trinity,
for we behold our Emperor victorious! Welcome Victor! most valiant
sovereign!" the triumphal car of Heraclius drove into the city, after
his splendid campaign of seven years against the Persians; the campaign
which brought the long struggle between Europe and Persia since 492 B.C.
to an end. The same shouts rent the air, when Constantine Copronymus
returned from the defeat of the Bulgarians, and twice again, when Basil
II., by two murderous wars with that people, earned the title, the
Slayer of Bulgarians, Bulgaroktonos. Theophilus, on two occasions, and
Basil I. passed through the Golden Gate as victors over the Saracens.
And Zimisces received the same honour for beating back the Russians
under Swiatoslaf. These were great days in the history of the city, nay,
of mankind, for they stayed the waves of barbarism that threatened to
overwhelm the civilised world. But after all, it is when the enemy
stands arrayed before the very capital of the Empire, and delivers
assault after assault upon the citadel which guarded its fate and the
destiny of Europe, that the struggle waged between civilisation and
barbarism during the history of New Rome is fully recognised to have
been, indeed, a struggle for life, and that we learn to appreciate what
we owe to the Warden of the Gates to the Western World. To these walls
may be applied the words in which Mr. Gladstone appraised the value of
the services rendered by the Christian populations of the Balkan
Peninsula, in a similar connection. "They are like a shelving beach that
restrained the ocean. That beach, it is true, is beaten by the waves; it
is laid desolate; it produces nothing; it becomes perhaps nothing save a
mass of shingle, of rock, of almost useless sea-weed. But it is a fence
behind which the cultivated earth can spread and escape the incoming
tide.... It was that resistance which left Europe to claim the enjoyment
of her own religion, and to develop her institutions and her laws."
Although inferior as military works to the other portions of the
landward walls, great historical interest is associated with the
fortifications between the Wall of Manuel and the Golden Horn, for they
guarded the Palace of Blachernæ, the favourite residence of the
Byzantine Court from the time of Alexius Comnenus (1081-1118) until the
fall of the Empire. As already intimated, the palace stood on the
terrace buttressed by the Tower of Isaac Angelus and the chambered wall
to the north of the tower, where the Mosque of Aivas Effendi is now
found. The terrace was almost level with the parapet-walk of the
fortifications, commanding fine views of the Golden Horn, and of the
hills at the head of the harbour; and there the most splendid Court of
the Middle Ages long displayed its wealth and pomp. What with the
Crusades, and what with the relations, hostile and friendly, between the
Italian Republics and the Government of Constantinople during the period
of the Palæologi, it was in that palace that Western and Eastern Europe
came into closest contact for good or for evil. On the hills and in the
valleys seen from the western windows of the palace, the armies of the
First Crusade encamped. To that residence came Peter the Hermit, Godfrey
of Bouillon, Robert of Normandy, Bohemond, Tancred, "the mirror of
knighthood," Count Robert of Paris, to wonder at the marvels of
Byzantine Art, and to attempt the co-operation of the East and the West,
in the great political and religious undertaking of the times. On the
hill immediately in front of the walls the soldiers of the Fourth
Crusade pitched their tents, and thence Baldwin of Flanders and Hainaut,
Henry his brother, Louis of Blois and Chartres, and Hugo of Saint Paul,
led four divisions of the army against the wall erected by Leo the
Armenian. The wall was held by Varangian troops, the imperial
body-guard, recruited from England, Denmark, Norway, and Russia. "The
assailants," to quote the words of Ville-Hardouin, a witness of the
combat, and the historian of the Crusade, "placed two scaling-ladders
against an outer wall near the sea; the wall was furnished with
Englishmen and Danes, and the attack was strong, and good, and hard. And
by sheer force some knights and two sergeants mounted the ladders, and
became masters of the wall. Fully fifteen reached the wall, and they
fought hand to hand with axes and swords. And the men within returned to
the charge and drove them (the assailants) out, right rudely, even
taking two of them prisoners. And those of our men who were captured
were led to the Emperor Alexis, and he was very highly delighted. So
ended the attack by the French. And there was a considerable number of
men wounded and of maimed; and the barons were very angry about it."
The recovery of Constantinople from the Latins in 1261 did not diminish
Italian influence over the life of the city. On the contrary, from that
time to the close of Byzantine history that influence, modified indeed
by the rival force of Ottoman power, grew stronger and stronger.
Commercial interests, political necessities, schemes of ecclesiastical
union, literary sympathies, possibilities of aggrandisement at the
expense of an Empire hastening to ruin, made Italy, especially Genoa and
Venice, take a most active part in the affairs of New Rome. A Western
atmosphere, so to speak, then enveloped Constantinople, very much like
that which surrounds the City of the Sultans to-day.
But the portion of the walls about which the greatest and most pathetic
interest gathers is where Sultan Mehemet delivered his fatal blow upon
the Byzantine Empire, and won the title of "the Conqueror." It is the
portion which stretches from Top Kapoussi (Gate of S. Romanus) to Edirné
Kapoussi (Gate of Charisius), across the ravine through which the
little stream of the Lycus, on its way to the Sea of Marmora, enters the
city. Owing to the depression of the ground and the impossibility of
constructing a deep moat there, this was the weakest point in the
Theodosian fortifications, and here the bravest of the defenders, under
Giustiniani of Genoa and the Emperor Constantine, manned the walls to
oppose the best troops under the command of the Sultan. Against this
part of the walls the enemy pointed his heaviest cannon, and here the
contest raged for more than seven weeks. Both the besieged and the
besiegers fought with the determination and the valour worthy of the
issues at stake. When the Turkish artillery broke down the Outer Wall,
Giustiniani and his Genoese and Greek comrades held their ground, and
replaced the fallen ramparts by a stockade built of stones, barrels full
of earth, beams, branches of trees--of anything within reach that would
hold together. Against that barricade wave after wave of Turkish troops
dashed and beat furiously and long. There were moments when the
defenders seemed to have gained the day. But like gleams of sunshine
that pierce storm clouds, they only served to make the impending
catastrophe more tragic. Giustiniani was wounded and left the field. A
band of bold Turks entered the city through the postern of the
Kerkoporta, thoughtlessly left open, and, mounting the walls, planted
their banners upon the parapet. Anon, the cry "The city is taken" burst
upon the air and reverberated from tower to tower. A panic seized the
besieged. The Sultan, grasping his opportunity, roused his janissaries
to a supreme effort, and hurled them against the battered and
half-deserted barricade. The Emperor Constantine did everything in his
power to rally his followers and repel the terrible onset. It was
hopeless. He then sought and found a soldier's death, rather than
survive the fall of his Empire. "All was lost save honour." And over his
dead body the tide of conquest poured into the city.
Thus ended the history of more than a thousand years. Then Asia dealt
its worst blow upon Europe. Then the last vestige of the State, ruled
first by Rome from the seven hills beside the Tiber, and afterwards by
New Rome enthroned on the seven hills beside the Bosporus, disappeared.
Then the Crescent gained its greatest triumph over the Cross. Not many
spots in the world have been the scene of such momentous events as took
place in the little valley of the Lycus on the 29th of May, 1453.
There an Empire died, and a long and great epoch closed.
[Illustration: CONSTANTINOPLE AND GOLDEN HORN FROM THE CEMETERY AT EYOUB
Many a charming vista may be seen through the cypress trees in the
cemetery at Eyoub.]
It is very natural, when thoughtful men tread the road which skirts
these ancient fortifications, that the mind should be profoundly
impressed by the vanity of earthly might and greatness. On the one hand,
the way is strewn with the wreck and ruin of ramparts once deemed
impregnable:
O'er each mouldering tower,
Dim with the mist of years, grey flits the shade of power.
On the other hand, stretch great silent cemeteries, beneath whose dark
cypresses lies the dust of a dead multitude more than can be numbered.
As one has expressed the feeling awakened by this spectacle of wreckage
and mortality, "It is walking through the valley of the Shadow of
Death." And yet, seeing there must be an end to all things, is it not
wiser and more just to dwell rather upon the glory that crowns these
bulwarks for their long defence of the civilised life of the world?
For a full account of the Turkish Conquest, see E. Pears'
_The Destruction of the Greek Empire_.
CHAPTER VII
AMONG THE CHURCHES OF THE CITY
CONSTANTINOPLE was a city of churches. Clavijo, the Spanish envoy, who
visited the city in 1403, was assured that it was hallowed by the
presence of no less than 3000 sanctuaries, counting large and small.
This was obviously an exaggeration, intended to impress the stranger's
mind with a due sense of the city's grandeur and sacredness. Ducange in
his great work, _Constantinopolis Christiana_, gives the names of some
400 churches mentioned by the Byzantine authors whose works he had
examined. But a wider acquaintance with Byzantine literature since the
time of that great student of the antiquities of Constantinople has
discovered the names of many churches not upon his list. It is therefore
impossible to reach exact figures here, and we must be content with the
vague statement that the number was so large as to form a striking
feature of the city's aspect. This was only what might be expected in a
city where the number of churches would be determined not only by the
ordinary religious needs of a devout population, but also by the demands
of the many monasteries which sought security from violence behind the
bulwarks of the capital, notwithstanding the temptations of the world,
the flesh, and the devil, encountered there. What does cause surprise,
however, is that so few of the numerous churches which once adorned the
city, and embodied the piety of its people, have left one stone standing
upon another to recall their existence. At most, thirty-five remain, and
of these several of them are so dilapidated that they only serve for the
identification of an interesting site, or to emphasise the vanity of
earthly things.
Of course all the churches of the city were never contemporaneous. In a
city which had a life of more then eleven centuries, the list of almost
any class of edifices erected in the course of that period would
necessarily be a long one, without implying the existence of numerous
edifices of that class at one and the same time. According to the
description of Constantinople which dates from the first quarter of the
fifth century, the number of churches then in the city is given as only
fourteen. Churches appeared and disappeared, and while some of them
were, for special reasons, maintained throughout the whole course of the
city's history, many came to flourish for a while and then decayed in
the ordinary course of things, bequeathing as their memorial only the
withered leaves of their names. Then we must remember the frequent and
disastrous earthquakes which shook the soil of Constantinople during the
Middle Ages, and the terrible conflagrations which again and again
reduced the wealth and glory and beauty of extensive tracts of the city
to dust and ashes. For example: the three fires associated with the
capture of the city by the Latins in 1203-1204 inflicted a blow from
which the city never recovered. One of those fires raged for a night and
a day; another for two days and two nights, with the result that almost
all the territory along the Golden Horn, as well as the territory
extending thence to the Hippodrome and the Sea of Marmora, as far away
as Vlanga, were turned into a wilderness of smoking ruins. "The fire,"
says Ville-Hardouin, a spectator of the awful scene, "was so great and
so terrible that no man could extinguish or check it. It was a sad and
pitiful spectacle for the barons of the army encamped on the other
side of the harbour to see those beautiful churches and those rich
palaces fall in and be destroyed, and great business streets burned by
the scorching flames; but they could do nothing. The fire spread beyond
the harbour across to the densest part of the city, quite close to S.
Sophia, and as far as the sea on the other side. It lasted two days and
two nights, without being ever touched by the hand of man, and the front
of the fire was fully half a league long. Of the damage done, or of the
property and wealth thus lost and consumed no estimate can be made, nor
of the number of men, women, or children who perished." It is true that
churches injured by the hand of time were often restored. There were
even periods when such renovation was carried out on an extensive scale,
as for instance under Justinian the Great and under Basil I. (867-886).
But not less frequently the old fabric was so weakened by age or shaken
by earthquake that to repair it was out of the question, and the only
thing to be done was to use its stones and bricks and marbles as
materials in the construction of other buildings. Much of the material,
for instance, employed in the erection of the Tower of Isaac Angelus, in
front of the Palace of Blachernæ, was taken from the ruins of old
churches. While for the construction of the citadel which John VI.
Palæologus (1341-1391) built near the Golden Gate, material was taken
from the remains of churches so noted in their day as the Church of All
Saints, the Church of the Forty Martyrs, and the Church of S. Mokius.
[Illustration: VIEW FROM AN OLD CEMETERY
Close to the busy thoroughfare of Pera large tracts of land lie
unoccupied save for a few mouldering old tombstones; they are the
remains of old Turkish burying-grounds.]
Upon the recovery of Constantinople from the Latins in 1261, something
indeed was done to repair the damage due to the occupation of the city,
for some fifty-seven years, by barbarous and covetous strangers. But the
last two centuries of the Empire were years of wars and civil broils,
years of decline and poverty, and at length of despair, so that
comparatively little could be undertaken to rebuild the sad ruins
inherited from the past, or to arrest the decay whose withering touch
was laid on the monuments that still survived more or less intact. Even
the Imperial Palace beside the Hippodrome was allowed to fall into such
neglect and desolation, that when the Turkish conqueror visited its
empty halls they echoed to his ear the couplet of the Persian poet: "The
spider has become the watchman of the royal abode, and has spread his
curtain over its doorway." The decay which had smitten the city
impressed every visitor during the half-century preceding the Turkish
Conquest. "Although the city is large," says the Spanish envoy already
cited, "and has a wide circuit, it is not thickly populated everywhere
for it contains many hills and valleys occupied by cultivated fields and
gardens, and where one sees houses such as are found in an outlying
suburb and all this in the heart of the city.... There are still many
very large buildings in the city, houses, churches, monasteries, but
most of them are in ruins." The great disproportion between the size of
the city and the number of the population made a similar impression on
Bondelmontius who came here from Florence in 1422. He speaks of
vineyards flourishing within the city bounds, and adds, "There are
innumerable churches and cisterns throughout the city, remarkably large
and constructed with much labour, and found in ruin." La Broquière, to
cite one witness more, who was here in 1433, observes that the open
spaces in the city were more extensive than the territory occupied by
buildings. Times had indeed changed since the days of Themistius and
Anthemius.
Constantinople was therefore far from being a rich and splendid city
when it fell into the hands of its Turkish conquerors in 1453, and the
scarcity of the monuments of its former wealth and grandeur must not be
ascribed wholly to the action of its new masters. The ravages of time,
and the vandalism of the Latin Crusaders, had left little for other rude
hands to destroy.
In his dealing with the religious rights of the Christian community the
Ottoman lord of Constantinople proved conciliatory. While appropriating
S. Sophia and several other churches for Moslem use, he allowed the
Greeks to retain a sufficient number of their former places of worship.
He, moreover, ordered the free election of a new patriarch, who should
enjoy, as far as possible under altered circumstances, the privileges
which the chief prelate of the Great Orthodox Church had formerly
possessed. Upon the election of Gennadius to the vacant post, the Sultan
received him graciously at the palace, and presented him with a valuable
pastoral cross, saying "Be patriarch and be at peace. Depend upon my
friendship so long as thou desirest it, and thou shalt enjoy all the
privileges of thy predecessors." The Church of the Holy Apostles, only
second in repute to S. Sophia, was assigned to the patriarch as a
cathedral, and he was not only allowed free access to the Seraglio,
but was even visited by the Sultan at the patriarchate. The loss of S.
Sophia was, indeed, a terrible humiliation, one from which the Greek
Church has never recovered; a humiliation which all Christendom feels to
this hour. But the preservation of the fabric is doubtless due to the
fact that it passed into the hands of the conquerors. It is difficult to
see how the Greek community could have maintained that glorious pile,
even "shorn of its beams," after 1453. At the time of the fatal siege,
the population of the city counted at most one hundred thousand souls.
When the city fell, upwards of fifty thousand of its inhabitants were
sold into captivity. Nor did the subsequent efforts of the Sultan to
attract Christians to the city meet with great success. Hence extensive
portions of the city were abandoned by the Christian population, on
account of paucity of numbers, and the dread inspired by Turkish
neighbours. Even the Patriarch Gennadius soon begged to be transferred
from the Church of the Holy Apostles to the Church of S. Mary
Pammacaristos, in a district where Greeks were more numerous. This
request was made because the dead body of a Turk had been discovered,
one morning, in the court of the Church of the Holy Apostles, and there
was reason to fear that the Turkish inhabitants of the quarter would
avenge the murder of a Moslem, by reprisals upon the few Christians in
the vicinity. Naturally, churches situated in districts abandoned by the
Christian population passed into Turkish hands, and were disposed of as
the new proprietors might find most convenient. It was thus that the
Church of the Holy Apostles itself was lost to the Greek communion, and
made way for the erection of the mosque named after the Conqueror. Other
old churches shared a similar fate, either immediately upon the fall of
the city, or later under succeeding Sultans. For, as might be expected,
extensive building operations were carried on in the early days of
Turkish rule, and every ancient edifice which could not be turned to
better account was brought into requisition to provide ready-made
material for the new structures. During the reign of the Conqueror not
less than sixty mosques rose within the city bounds. The Fortress of the
Seven Towers, built in 1457, at the Golden Gate, was largely constructed
with materials taken from old buildings, as an examination of its walls
will prove. The first palace of the Sultan, on the site now occupied by
the War Office, must have played havoc among the Byzantine buildings,
secular and sacred, in that neighbourhood. While the palace which was
erected later, in the unrivalled situation at the head of the promontory
of Stamboul, encroached upon a territory crowded with such churches as
S. Demetrius, S. George Mangana, S. Mary Hodegetria, and S. Irene. All
were swept away, with the exception of the last, which was converted
from a temple of peace into an arsenal of war.
[Illustration: MARKET IN THE COURT OF THE MOSQUE OF SULTAN AHMED I.
The courts of the mosques are often used for market-places.]
The Turkish occupation is therefore accountable for the destruction of
many ancient churches of the city. Indeed, if we may believe the
historian of the Greek Patriarchate from 1453 to 1578, there was a
moment when the Christian community was threatened with the loss of
every church, old or new, in its possession. The graphic story is too
long to be told here in all its details, but it is so characteristic of
the parties concerned, and of the prevalent method (not yet quite
obsolete), of creating and turning a difficult situation, that a summary
account of the affair may be permitted. The scene is laid either in the
reign of Selim I. or of his son Suleiman the Magnificent, when the
Patriarch Jeremiah occupied the patriarchal throne for the second time.
And the play opens with the determination of a fanatical Turkish party
to insist upon the law that the inhabitants of a city captured by force
of arms should be denied the right of worship, and should have their
churches either confiscated or levelled to the ground. The
Sheik-ul-Islam of the day had issued his fetva to that effect, and in
five days the sentence was to be carried into execution. A high Turkish
official, who was in the secret, informed a Greek notable of the storm
at hand, and the latter reported the matter immediately to his
ecclesiastical chief. After much weeping and many prayers, the patriarch
mounted his mule and hastened to the residence of the Grand Vizier, with
whom, happily, he was on the best of terms. The result of a long
interview was that the patriarch was dismissed with an invitation to
attend the Council of Ministers, and inform them that, while it was true
that Sultan Mehemet attacked the city and destroyed a portion of the
fortifications, the Greek Emperor had not carried matters to the bitter
end, but went betimes to the Sultan, surrendered the keys of the city,
and, after a friendly reception, brought him into Constantinople in a
peaceable manner. Whereupon, the patriarch, somewhat relieved, paid a
round of visits to the various Ministers of State and to other
influential personages, not forgetting to leave in each case a
suitable parting gift. An extraordinary Council of Ministers was then
summoned to consider the question, and before that assembly the
patriarch duly appeared. Meantime the news of the impending catastrophe
had spread, causing great excitement, so that an immense crowd of
Greeks, Armenians, and even Jews, collected outside the Council Chamber,
to learn as early as possible the result of the deliberations within.
The terrible fetva was solemnly read, accompanied by the announcement
that not only would it be applied to the case of Constantinople, but to
every town captured by the sword throughout the Empire. "O my lord,"
cried the patriarch in a loud voice, addressing the Grand Vizier, "as to
other cities I am not sufficiently informed, but as regards this city I
can vouch that when Sultan Mehemet came to fight against it,
Constantine, with the consent of his nobles and people, did homage to
him and surrendered the place voluntarily." "Have you," inquired the
Grand Vizier, "any Moslem witnesses who were in the army of Sultan
Mehemet when he took the city, and who can tell us how he took it?" "I
have, O my lord," was the prompt reply. "Then come to-morrow to the
Council, and meantime we shall take the Sultan's pleasure on the
subject," said the Grand Vizier. Followed through the streets by the
whole Christian population of Stamboul and Galata, the patriarch stood
next day before the Council once more, and was informed that His Majesty
would be pleased to accept Moslem testimony to the correctness of the
statement that Constantinople had capitulated and was not taken by
force. "But O my lord, the witnesses you demand are not here; they are
at Adrianople; and to send for them and to bring them will involve a
delay of twenty days," pleaded the patriarch. The delay was granted;
messengers, provided with a large sum of money and other gifts, were
forthwith despatched to Adrianople; the witnesses sought were found; and
soon they were welcomed with raptures of joy at the gates of the
patriarchate. After resting for two days, they were received in private
audience by the Grand Vizier, and were assured that they could safely
affirm whatever the patriarch might desire them to say. Accordingly, at
another meeting of the Council, the patriarch was asked to produce his
witnesses, failing which the fetva would be carried out. "They are
standing outside," he answered. Two aged men were then introduced, their
eyes running with rheum and red as raw flesh, their hands and feet
trembling beneath the burden of years, their beards white as driven
snow. Never before had the assembly beheld men so venerable with age.
[Illustration: COURT OF THE SULEIMANIYEH
Along the low wall to the left are a number of water taps for the
Moslems to perform their ablutions before going to prayer.]
"What is your name?" the first witness was asked. "Mustapha." "What was
your father's name?" "Genouze." "And (to second witness) what may your
name be?" "Pirez." "And your father's name?" "Rustem." "How long is it
since Sultan Mehemet took this city?" "Eighty-four years, to a day."
"How old were you then?" "Eighteen." "How old are you now?" "One hundred
and two years old." "Mashallah, Mashallah" (God protect you), exclaimed
the members of the Council, and stroked their long beards. "In what
capacity did you serve under Sultan Mehemet?" "As janissaries." "How was
the city taken, by fighting or by surrender?" "By surrender." Then
followed a long garrulous narrative of the circumstances of the
capitulation of the city, all of which went to prove the historical
trustworthiness of everything the patriarch had stated on that subject.
Finally, a report of these proceedings was drawn up and presented to the
Sultan, who, after expressing his surprise, natural or feigned, ordered
that the patriarch should have no further anxiety about the churches of
his communion "so long as the world standeth."
Notwithstanding that order, however, the Greek community subsequently
lost several churches in its possession at that time, including S. Mary
Pammacaristos, then the patriarchal cathedral, with the result that it
can now boast of only some six insignificant sanctuaries which were
founded in the period of the Byzantine Empire. But excepting certain
portions of S. Mary Mouchliotissa in the Phanar quarter, none of them
can claim to be ancient fabrics. There are in Turkish hands about
twenty-five Byzantine churches, and, though sadly altered, most of them
retain enough of their original features to be interesting objects of
study.
CHAPTER VIII
AMONG THE CHURCHES
AS historical landmarks, these churches are of very great value, and if
Byzantine history were more generally studied they would enjoy wider
fame. They enable the historian to fix a date, to give a local
habitation to many events and scenes, to grasp a solid fragment of a
form assumed by the life of humanity, and to feel how thoroughly real
that life was. In them one touches hands that have vanished, and hears
the echoes of voices that are still. The Church of S. Irene, which,
under Turkish control, has been employed both as an arsenal and as a
museum, carries the mind back to the foundation of the city. Indeed,
there is reason to think that it was one of the Christian sanctuaries of
Byzantium before the town was transformed into the capital of the East,
for two early authorities assert that Constantine only enlarged and
beautified the church in order to make it match its new surroundings.
But be that as it may, it is certain that, since the destruction of the
Church of the Holy Apostles to make room for the Mosque of Sultan
Mehemet, S. Irene has been the only sanctuary in the city that can claim
connection with Constantine. Within its walls, it is said, the General
Council summoned by Theodosius I. to restore the orthodoxy of the Church
and Empire in 381 held its meetings. Occasionally, when S. Sophia for
any reason was not available, S. Irene served as the patriarchal church,
and is therefore sometimes designated the Patriarchate, and the
Metropolitan Church. It was burned to the ground during the Nika riot,
but was included by Justinian in the splendid restoration of the
buildings destroyed on that occasion. It was ruined again by the
earthquake of 740, and once more restored by Leo III. the Isaurian. To
it, therefore, is attached the memory of the hero who defended
Constantinople in the second siege of the city by the Saracens, a
service to the world as important as the defeat of the same foe on the
field of Tours by Charles Martel fourteen years later. "At this time,"
to quote Professor Bury, "New Rome, not Old Rome, was the great bulwark
of Christian Europe, and if New Rome had fallen it might have gone hard
with the civilised world. The year 718 A.D. is really an ecumenical
date, of far greater importance than such a date as 338 B.C. when Greece
succumbed to Macedon on the field of Chæronea, and of equal importance
with such dates as 332 B.C., when an oriental empire (Persia) fell, or
of 451 A.D. which marked the repulse of the Huns."
Another church of historical interest is S. Saviour-in-the-Chora
(country), now Kahriyeh Djamissi, and popularly known as the Mosaic
Mosque, on account of the remarkable mosaics it still contains. It was
clearly in existence previous to the year 413, as thereafter it stood
within the line of the Wall of Anthemius, and could not then acquire the
distinction of being situated "in the country." Accordingly, it is a
topographical landmark as regards the original extent of the city, only
second in importance to Isa Kapou Mesdjidi, which we have seen indicates
the line of the Constantinian Wall, the position of the first Golden
Gate, and the situation of the Exokionion. Like every church with so
long a life, S. Saviour-in-the-Chora has known many changes. It saw its
best days in the fourteenth century, when it was thoroughly renovated
by Theodore Metochites, and invested with the splendour which still
glows upon its walls, and makes it one of the most beautiful of the old
churches of the Byzantine world.
Not less interesting historically is the Church of S. John the Baptist
(Mir-Akhor Djamissi), situated in the quarter of Psamatia. It was
founded about 463 by Studius, a Roman patrician who, like many other
persons, when old Rome was tottering to its fall, fled from the West to
the East, as when New Rome neared its end, some thousand years later,
men escaped from the East to the West. The church was attached to a
large monastery belonging to the order of the Acoemetæ or Sleepless
Monks, who were so named because they celebrated Divine service in their
churches day and night without intermission. According to the original
constitution of the society the members of the order represented various
nationalities, Greek, Latin, Syrian, and were divided into companies
which passed from hand to hand, in unbroken succession, the censer of
perpetual prayer and praise. They sought thus to make the worship of
God's saints on earth resemble that of the assembly gathered from all
nations and peoples and tongues that serves Him without ceasing in
heaven.
Even thus of old
Our ancestors, within the still domain
Of vast cathedral or conventual church
Their vigils kept; where tapers day and night
On the dim altar burned continually,
In token that the House was evermore
Watching to God. Religious men were they;
Nor would their reason, tutored to aspire
Above this transitory world, allow
That there should pass a moment of the year,
When in their land, the Almighty's service ceased.
As might be expected from the number and zeal of its inmates, the
monastery of Studius was highly venerated, and wielded immense
influence. Its abbot ranked first among the abbots of the capital, and
to it the Emperor was bound to pay an annual State visit on the 29th
August, one of the Baptist's festival days. On that occasion the Emperor
usually came by water in the imperial barge from the Palace beside the
Hippodrome, and landed at the Gate (Narli Kapoussi) on the shore below
the monastery, where the abbot and his monks waited to receive the
sovereign. In this monastery the Emperor Isaac Comnenus in 1059, and the
Emperor Michael VII. in 1078, assumed the monk's cowl. The former even
served as porter at the monastery gate, and so happy was he in his
retirement from the pomps and vanities of the world, that when his wife,
who had taken the veil at the time of his abdication, visited him, he
said to her, "Acknowledge that when I gave you a crown I made you a
slave, and that I give you freedom when I took it away." His wife's last
command was "that her body should be buried in the cemetery of the
Studion as a simple nun, with no sign to indicate that she was born a
Bulgarian princess and had been a Roman empress."
No monks in the history of Constantinople showed themselves so
independent of ecclesiastical and State control as the monks of the
Studion. Enough to recall the fact that in the controversy which
agitated Constantinople and the Church at large for over a century
(725-842), as to the lawfulness of using pictures and statues in
religious worship, the monks of this monastery were the boldest and most
determined opponents of the Iconoclast emperors. The abbot Theodore, who
for many years led the opposition to the imperial authority in that
matter, is one of the great figures of the Eastern Church. Eight
occupants of the Byzantine throne found him a man who for conscience
sake defied all their authority, rejected all their favours, and
endured any suffering they chose to inflict. When the Synod, held in
815, ordered icons to be banished from the churches, Theodore and his
monks carried the sacred pictures in procession through the streets, and
gave them an asylum in his monastery. Nor was he only stern. He caused
the rejection of the treaty of peace with Crum, the King of Bulgaria,
because of the demand it contained to surrender the fugitives from that
monarch's hard rule, many of whom had become Christians. To do so,
Theodore argued, would be to make void the gracious words, "Him that
cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out." He held the view that no
monk should keep slaves, and condemned the persecution of the
Paulicians, urging that they who are ignorant and out of the way should
be instructed, not persecuted. There is a prevalent impression that the
pages of Byzantine history contain nothing but the recital of the life
of a servile and ignoble community, of a race of men who trembled at the
nod of any despot and were void of all independence of thought and
action. That such a spirit often prevailed is undoubted. But if the
Byzantines had the faults of our human nature, they were not altogether
without some of its virtues. And whatever our opinions o
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