DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.5504#0020
114 Travels in Greece, Turkey, and the Holy Land,
of the water: the sun illumined the domes of the mosques,
and the sharp, gilt pillars of the minarets: the burnt column
rose majestically amid the groups of trees which enveloped
tbese light and sumptuous edifices. Behind this line, on the
opposite bank, we could descry a city, half concealed by the
cypresses of the gardens of the Seraglio.
Constantinople appears to me to have been originally built
with no other view than to gratify the sight: fearing that the
illusion should pass off too soon, much anxiety is displayed by
the moderns to imprint on the memory the fantastic shew of
new ornaments.
The sea was almost entirely hidden by vessels : the boiste-
rous sailor, come from afar, while he bandied the cordage,
made diligent enquiries about the plague, the chief object of
his solicitude ; and not far from him a party of grave musul-
mans, seated in a kiosque projecting into the sea, smoked
with complacency the pipe filled with perfumes, and seemed
to regret that the pleasure they received from their coffee cost
them the trouble of drinking it.
We landed at the port, and proceeded thence to the Palace
of the French Ambassador at Pera, not a little terrified at
what we had heard of the ravages of the plague. Notwith-
standing they had diminished latterly, they were still very for-
midable. You are cautioned not to touch any one ; but it is
impossible to walk in the narrow and slippery streets of Con-
stantinople, without coming in contact with the end of a
shawl, or with a loose robe or caftan.
The Marquis de Riviere, Ambassador of France at the
Sublime Port, was at this time at Tharapia, on the Bosphorus,
the summer residence of the French Embassy : it required
several hours to reach this delightful spot; but time never
appeared to me so short. My curiosity was excited by all that
1 saw: the banks were lined with charming palaces, which
seemed to me to be merely temporary, and to have been
erected with a view to a festival. I witnessed the departure
of the gilt, long, and narrow barks, the traces of which the
eye could scarcely follow, as they moved swiftly along the
stream. A musulman, sitting crossed-legged on a carpet of
Iran, at the extremity of the caique, smiled at the vigorous
efforts of the rowers, gently stroking his beard: his oblique
and disdainful looks were cast occasionally on other boats
which dared to contend in swiftness with his own.
On leaving Constantinople the strait narrows : meadows and
gardens follow in succession, until they reach the sea, into
which the brooks that water them flow, after a flexuous
course beneath lovely trees. Such are the limpid waters of
of the water: the sun illumined the domes of the mosques,
and the sharp, gilt pillars of the minarets: the burnt column
rose majestically amid the groups of trees which enveloped
tbese light and sumptuous edifices. Behind this line, on the
opposite bank, we could descry a city, half concealed by the
cypresses of the gardens of the Seraglio.
Constantinople appears to me to have been originally built
with no other view than to gratify the sight: fearing that the
illusion should pass off too soon, much anxiety is displayed by
the moderns to imprint on the memory the fantastic shew of
new ornaments.
The sea was almost entirely hidden by vessels : the boiste-
rous sailor, come from afar, while he bandied the cordage,
made diligent enquiries about the plague, the chief object of
his solicitude ; and not far from him a party of grave musul-
mans, seated in a kiosque projecting into the sea, smoked
with complacency the pipe filled with perfumes, and seemed
to regret that the pleasure they received from their coffee cost
them the trouble of drinking it.
We landed at the port, and proceeded thence to the Palace
of the French Ambassador at Pera, not a little terrified at
what we had heard of the ravages of the plague. Notwith-
standing they had diminished latterly, they were still very for-
midable. You are cautioned not to touch any one ; but it is
impossible to walk in the narrow and slippery streets of Con-
stantinople, without coming in contact with the end of a
shawl, or with a loose robe or caftan.
The Marquis de Riviere, Ambassador of France at the
Sublime Port, was at this time at Tharapia, on the Bosphorus,
the summer residence of the French Embassy : it required
several hours to reach this delightful spot; but time never
appeared to me so short. My curiosity was excited by all that
1 saw: the banks were lined with charming palaces, which
seemed to me to be merely temporary, and to have been
erected with a view to a festival. I witnessed the departure
of the gilt, long, and narrow barks, the traces of which the
eye could scarcely follow, as they moved swiftly along the
stream. A musulman, sitting crossed-legged on a carpet of
Iran, at the extremity of the caique, smiled at the vigorous
efforts of the rowers, gently stroking his beard: his oblique
and disdainful looks were cast occasionally on other boats
which dared to contend in swiftness with his own.
On leaving Constantinople the strait narrows : meadows and
gardens follow in succession, until they reach the sea, into
which the brooks that water them flow, after a flexuous
course beneath lovely trees. Such are the limpid waters of