BEAUTIFUL SCENE. As we glided onwards to our destination, the scene became exceedingly animated: the sea was covered with innumerable vessels having all their canvass spread; some were following in our wake towards Constantinople even with skysails, but the superior sailing of the Actæon gradually left them far astern. As we passed Gallipoli, two Russian men-of-war were lying off the town, which is of considerable size; and in the Bay of Lampsacus, on the opposite coast, were also several Turkish ships. The landscape on the European side of the Sea of Marmora, in which we now were, is composed of gently sloping hills, well cultivated, while on that of Asia, it is bolder and more rugged.
There was now every probability of our arriving at Constantinople to-morrow, and we enjoyed the satisfaction of sailing past the Smyrna packet, which, having hauled too close in shore, lost the wind and lay there quite becalmed.
THE SEVEN TOWERS. Wednesday, May 1st.– Off Cape St. Stefano at day break. Three Turkish frigates lying at anchor there, fired the usual salute in honour of the festival of the Bairam, which is repeated at sunrise and sunset from all the men-of-war and batteries during the three days of its continuance. The guns of the fort were shotted, like those of the Dardanelles. As the darkness gave place to light, Stamboul disclosed itself to our anxious gaze, and we arrived opposite the Seven Towers, just as the sun cast its morning tints over the gilded cupolas and tall graceful minarets of this "Queen of Cities."
Long, long ago, my anxious hope was to behold, some day or other, the spot I was now approaching; at that time with little chance of its ever being accomplished, but now fulfilled to my perfect satisfaction. The Seven Towers, and the city walls, which are in many places thickly covered with ivy, appear to be in a very ruinous condition. These latter are trebled on the land-side, having a ditch between each. From the numerous fragments of marble and granite columns, many of them bearing inscriptions, every where intermingled with the masonry, it is evident that the fortifications of Constantinople were built of the remnants of the ancient capital. This is peculiarly visible in the neighbourhood of the seraglio, where Irene's palace is supposed to have formerly stood. Facing the water is that portion of the suburbs inhabited by the Armenians, but presenting no attractions to the stranger, being exceedingly crowded and dirty; and along the shore are the stations for washing, slaughtering cattle, and throwing into the sea the filth collected by the scavengers.
THE PASHA'S GATE. If these objects were calculated to excite feelings of disgust, the scene which next presented itself was beautiful as fairy land. The ship sailed close under the lofty wall of the seraglio garden, which is separated from the sea by only a narrow wharf. Shady groves, bowers of oranges, roses and jasmine, lofty cypresses, and wide spreading plane trees, embosom the elegant pagoda-shaped buildings, which comprise the kiosks of the Sultan, and the women's apartments; all of which, together with the stables and other inferior offices, are richly gilt and painted of various gaudy colours. Near one of the seraglio gates is erected a large wooden house, where many a disobedient Pasha has awaited the decree of banishment issued against him by his imperious master. There, too, he was shipped on board the vessel destined to carry him into exile; or, if condemned to expiate his offences with his life, it was there the bowstring was applied. Hence this entrance is known by the appellation of the Pasha's gate. A little further on, we observed a small low door in the wall, scarcely high enough to admit an ordinary sized man. Through this opening the slaves newly purchased, for either the Sultan or Sultana, are conveyed into the palace; through it also, they make their exit, when barbarous jealousy or revenge prompts their destruction; and many a lovely Dudú or Lolah, and many a fair Sultana sewn in the cruel sack, have been borne through this fatal opening, and cast into the
"Rolling waves, which hide
Already many a once love-beaten breast,
Deep in the caverns of the deadly tide."
BEAUTIES OF STAMBOUL. We now sailed round the promontory of the Golden Horn, when all the beauties of Stamboul, Pera, the Bosphorus, and Scutari, burst suddenly upon the view. Looking towards the seraglio point is seen the richly gilded palace of the Sultan, with a gate that glitters as if formed of polished gold; and backed by a profusion of foliage, and the buildings of the Serai. Farther distant is St. Sophia and the other mosques, whose golden domes and graceful, tapering minarets, tower above the mass of painted buildings interspersed with dark cypresses and beautiful plane trees, which covers the surface of the "seven hills." Thousands of roses hang clustering on the trellis work which adorns the gardens of the numerous villages, summer palaces, and villas occupying the shores of the Bosphorus, and the harbour between Constantinople and Galata appears crowded with ships, and with numberless caiques, gliding rapidly from shore to shore. PERA. – SCUTARI.Lastly, Pera, with its vast range of cypresses, crowns the hill, and extends along the whole length of the town. Looking in another direction, appears the burying ground of Scutari, also with its cypress grove, many miles in extent; the mosque, and barracks of Sultan Selim; Leander's tower in the channel which we have just quitted; and, lastly, the Turkish fleet of many sail lying at anchor, and displaying all their colours in honour of the Bairam.
Meanwhile, the Actæon held on her silent majestic course towards the destined anchorage; and as I stood upon the quarter deck, contemplating the magnificent objects that presented themselves wherever I turned my sight, I felt all those thrilling emotions of rapture and delight which such scenes are calculated to inspire, and which constitute a sort of oäsis in the memory of those who have experienced them. Here nature and art have gone hand in hand, assisting each other, and scattering roses; here every thing that falls from the bosom of the former is rich and luxuriant, and every thing that proceeds from the latter is novel, extraordinary, in a word, it is oriental; and faults, which in more civilised communities would be considered inconsistent with good taste, are here ever pleasing, and seem necessary to the unity of the whole.
TURKISH FLEET. A royal salute was fired as we passed the summer palace of Dolma Bashi, where the Sultan at present resides. It was immediately returned by the Mahmoudie, the Capitan Pasha's ship. What splendid vessels! Among them two are three-deckers, the largest ships in the world, one carrying 140, the other 136 brass guns, and the whole armament appeared to be in a condition that would not discredit an English dockyard. Considering how short a period has intervened since the Sultan lost his entire fleet, it is really miraculous to see him with