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VILLAGE OF ROUMELIA, NEAR ADRIANOPLE

J. Salmon Drawn from Nature by F. Hervé. J. C. Bentley.

The district of ancient Thrace is sometimes called Romania, but more properly, Roumelia, from the Turkish name Roum Eli, “the country of the Romans.” It extended from the Euxine Sea to the river Strymon, and from Mons Hemus to the Propontis and Egean, which limits it has retained through all its vicissitudes to the present day. Byzantium, or Constantinople, is its former, as it is its present capital. The ancient Thracians were distinguished for their ferocity, and the poets have reported it as the theatre of many scenes of cruelty. Here it was that their king, Diomedes, fed his horses on human flesh, casting every stranger he found into their mangers, to be devoured alive; and here it was that the poet Orpheus, while lamenting the loss of his beloved Eurydice, was torn to pieces by the women, and his head cast into the Hebrus; and he who was represented to soothe tigers, soften rocks, and lead lofty oaks by his song, could not charm into humanity the Thracian ladies. In less fabulous times, their barbarism is unfortunately too well authenticated. It was the region where they offered up human victims as grateful offerings to their gods, and that from whence the Roman people obtained their theatrical assassins; so that the names of Thracian and gladiator are synonymous in their language: and such was the horrid delight taken in their exhibition, that from one thousand to fifteen hundred of those barbarians are reported to have been seen dead or dying, by each others swords, at the same moment, on the bloody stage, for the amusement of the assembled citizens of Rome.

The original barbarians of this region were amalgamated with various people as barbarous as themselves, who were driven from their own deserts, and invited to settle there. The Bastarnæ, a nation from the banks of the Rhine, were located here by the Emperor Probus, who attempted to instruct them in the ways of civilized life; but the intractable savages rejected the instruction, and, by repeated rebellions and insurrections, devastated the country they were allowed to settle in. In the reign of Valens, another nation was transported hither. The Goths were assaulted by the Huns, whom they represented as an unknown and monstrous race of savages, and they supplicated permission to escape from their ferocity by migrating into Thrace, and occupying the vast uncultivated plains then waste and unproductive. This second immigration was permitted; and these barbarians, like the former, ungratefully rebelled against their benefactors.

To this mingled population was finally added that of the Turks. In the year 1363 they crossed the Hellespont, and spread over this region their conquering hordes, adding Oriental ignorance and fanaticism to the catalogue of Thracian qualities. They seem to have even deteriorated the original character they brought with them in this European district. The Thracian Turk is said to be more inhospitable than a Turk in any other place. Travellers frequently fall victims to their intractable jealousy; and should a benighted stranger seek for shelter and protection, he is driven from the door by savage dogs, and fired at by the more savage master from within. And this repulsive conduct extends equally to their own countrymen as to those of other nations. Tartar couriers, or Turkish travellers, overtaken by night or storm in the winter, have been frequently found dead in the snow, near the inhospitable house where they had been denied a shelter. Their conduct, in this respect, forms a strong contrast with that of the kind and hospitable Bulgarians, who are spread over part of this district, and mingled with the Moslem population.

The general aspect of the country, from the Balkans to the sea, is exceedingly beautiful. Swelling downs, expanded to an interminable distance, bounded only by the horizon. These are covered with a rich green sward, capable of any purpose of cultivation, either tillage or pasture. Occasionally the downs are intersected by depressions, which form winding glens, and sometimes a low ridge from the Balkans runs to an immense extent, till it is gradually lost in the plain, affording in its progress a variety of knolls and eminences highly picturesque and beautiful. The country is watered by the Hebrus and its tributary streams, which rising among the snows of the Balkans, and continually augmented by their solution, meander through the plains down to the sea; unceasingly refreshing the thirsty but fertile soil with their copious, cool, and limpid currents. The climate is exceedingly bland and temperate, and the moment a traveller passes the mountains he feels its influence. He ascends the northern side at an advanced season of the year, leaving behind him a country faded in its verdure, denuded of its foliage, and having the hand of winter everywhere impressed upon it. He descends on the southern side, and in a few days finds every thing changed. He breathes a warm temperate air, sees spring and summer blooming around him; the fields are green, the hills are gay, and the romantic woods and copses which clothe them, retain not only their leaves but their flowers also.

But in the midst of these beauties of nature he observes that everything is solitary and deserted. He passes a day’s journey through them, and meets nothing that has life from morning till evening. He sees on the distant horizon something that has the semblance of an inhabited place; he finds, when he approaches, that it is only a cemetery, which indicates that human life had once been there, but has now long since departed. Not a trace of the villages to which they once belonged remains behind, to mark where social man had once existed. Some of these solitary cemeteries are very extensive, and seem to mark the vicinity of a large town and numerous inhabitants; but so completely and so long ago have they been obliterated, that their very names have perished. It is natural for an inquisitive traveller, when he sees a large grave-yard, to ask his Tartar, or surrogee, the name of the city to which it belongs−but the Turk who daily travels by it, shakes his head at the hopeless question, and replies “Allah bilir,” God only knows.

What adds to the singularity and solitude of these plains, is the multitude of conical mounds which are everywhere scattered over them. These are lofty, and evidently artificial heaps, thrown up at some remote period by human labour, and to answer some purpose. They exactly resemble those mounds on the opposite coast of Asia, on the plains of Troy, which are supposed to be the tombs of heroes who fell during the siege, and the monuments erected over them, to mark the spot where their bodies are deposited. They are both equally called tepé in Asia and Europe, which is supposed to be a corruption of the Greek word ταϕος, by which the tombs of heroes were designated, and this coincidence renders it probable they both had the same origin. They are sometimes so numerous, that eight or ten appear at once, and the traveller passes close to them in succession, while whole ranges of them are seen marking the outline of the distant horizon. The supposition that they are tombs, adds considerably to the sense of solitude in these lonely regions. The traveller supposes himself passing through a vast grave-yard of several hundred miles in extent, the receptacle of human bodies, where, from the earliest ages, the kings, and heroes, and great ones of their nation are reposing in solitary magnificence.

While the fields are abandoned and agriculture is neglected, there is no art substituted or manufacture pursued, to engage the corresponding scanty population. The gold mines of Thrace were formerly so rich as to yield Philip of Macedon the value of £200,000 annually; an immense sum in those days, which enabled him to corrupt the patriot orators of Athens, and to boast that no city could resist him, that had a breach wide enough to admit an ass laden with the produce of these mines. They are unproductive to the Turks; and while they might raise a richer harvest of golden grain on those plains close to their capital, they are indebted to Odessa, and the permission of their enemies, the Russians, for the daily bread of Constantinople.

Our illustration presents, not the general appearance of the country, but one of those wandering ridges, which running from the high Balkans, like the fibres of some gigantic tree, are the branches of those roots by which they seem fastened to the level ground, and its picturesque and romantic features are different from the usual character of the level country. The plain from hence to Adrianople, and to the sea, is generally a flat surface of immense extent. These village-crowned peaks are called, both here and in the neighbouring country of Macedon, meteors, or “appearances in the air.” They are usually chosen as the site of Greek convents, and sometimes ascended by a basket let down with cords, in which the visitor is drawn up. The sides of the hills, in every accessible spot, are covered with vineyards, from which the city of Adrianople is supplied with grapes of an excellent quality.

CAVALRY BARRACKS ON THE BOSPHORUS

T. Allom. S. Fisher.

The feudal tenure by which the conquered lands were held by those to whom the victorious Sultan assigned them, were called Zaims and Timariots. This obliged every man to furnish a certain number of mounted followers, to take the field when called upon, and formed the first cavalry enrolled for military service by the Turks. But to these were added more efficient bodies, paid from the treasury, and enrolled as regular troops−these were called Selictarli and Spahi.

Selictarli, which literally means “men of the sword,” were the oldest and earliest corps, and owed their origin to Ali, the fourth caliph of the Osmanli race. To their care was entrusted the defence of the sacred person of the Sultan; they formed his immediate body-guard, and were distinguished by a standard of bright red as their ensign. But in the reign of Mahomet III., during a sanguinary combat, they were seized with a sudden panic, and abandoned their sovereign. Unable to rally the Selictars, he called on the grooms who attended their horses, who at once obeyed his summons, and rescued him from the danger. To punish the one, and reward the other, he formed a new corps of these grooms, conferred upon them the scarlet standard, while their masters were obliged to adopt one of yellow, as a mark of their degradation; and he called his new corps “Spahis,” that is, simple cavaliers, without Zaim or Timar.

On their first appointment, their arms were bows and arrows, with sabres, and a lance called a dgerid. They preferred these to pistols or carbines, for, said they, “firearms expend themselves in the air, but sabres and lances prostrate on the ground.” The dgerid was a short lance, which they darted with unerring aim at full speed; to this day, representations of their ancient combat with this weapon, form a distinguished part of their athletic sports. They hurl pointless lances at each other as they pass at full speed, and, stooping to the ground from their saddle-bow, recover them without dismounting, or slackening their pace; to these were attached certain adventurers called Gionuli, or “volunteers.” They watched the death of a Timariot, and immediately took his place, and succeeded to his Timar. So desperate and sanguinary were the combats, on one occasion, that in a few hours the same Timar passed through seven gionuli, who were all brief proprietors of a landed estate in succession, before they died. It remained in possession of the eighth who survived the battle.

But the most desperate and extraordinary of this cavalry, are the Delhi, or Deliler, which literally means “madmen,” a name their conduct well entitles them to bear. They are generally recruited from Servia and Croatia, and are of robust stature, and fierce and formidable aspect. This they endeavour to increase by their dress: their helmets are formed of a leopard’s head and jaws, with the skin hanging down to their shoulders; and this is surmounted by the beak, wings, and tail of an eagle, united with threads of iron. Their vests are skins of lions, and their trousers the hides of bears with the shaggy hair outside. They despise the crooked sabre of the Spahi, but carry a target and a serrated lance of great weight and size. These men rush on their enemies with the most reckless impetuosity; and, should any of them hesitate at the most hopeless and desperate attack, they are dishonoured for ever.

All these are perhaps the best mountain-horsemen in the world, though nothing can be more unfavourable to their firm seat and rapid evolutions than their whole equipment. Their saddles are heavy masses of wood, like pack-saddles, peaked before and behind, and seem to be the most awkward and uneasy in the way they use them. Their stirrups are very short, and their stirrup-irons very cumbrous, resembling the blades of fire-shovels, the angles of which they use to goad on the horse, as they have no spurs. This heavy and awkward apparatus is not secured on the horse by regular girths, but tied with thongs of leather, which are continually breaking and out of order. On this insecure seat the rider sits tottering, with his knees approaching to his chin; yet there never were more bold and dexterous horsemen, in the most difficult and dangerous places. When trooped together they observe little order, yet they act in concert with surprising regularity and effect, particularly on broken ground and mountain-passes, seemingly impracticable to European cavalry. They drive at full speed through beds of torrents, and up and down steep acclivities, and suddenly appear on the flanks or rear of their enemies, after passing rapidly through places where it was supposed impossible for a horseman to move.

Such had been the general character of Turkish cavalry, but the Sultan, in his military reforms, obliterated the characteristic distinction of each corps, and amalgamated them all to an uniformity of European discipline. He one day saw a restive horse baffle all the attempts of his rider to reduce him to obedience, and finally throw him to the ground. There happened to be standing near, an Italian adventurer, named Calosso, who had come to Constantinople in search of fortune, with many of his countrymen. He seized the unruly animal by the bridle, disencumbered him of his awkward ponderous saddle, mounted him bare-backed, and presently reclaimed him to a state of perfect discipline. His dexterity attracted the notice of the sovereign, who at once availed himself of his abilities. He first put himself under his care, and learned the art of European manège, at considerable personal risk. He cast away the wooden pack-saddle, and set his cavalry an example by mounting himself on a bare-backed horse. The sudden transition from a lofty seat, where the limbs were confined and fixed to the horse by a wooden frame, and the legs supported by firm pressure on a broad stirrup, to the sharp spine of a beast without either saddle or stirrup, was scarcely tolerable; and the imperial recruit would have been often precipitated to the ground, but for the aid of his Italian instructor, who was always at hand to support him. Yet he persevered with his usual determination, and he became in a short time an accomplished European horseman, and induced his subjects to follow his example. There was no European usage which a Turk found it more difficult to adopt than this. A short stirrup was congenial, and in keeping with all his other habits. When he sat, his legs were not properly pendent, but turned, as it were, under him, and he preserved on his pack-saddle nearly the same position as he occupied at ease on his divan. His first sensations, therefore, in his new position, with his legs stretched down, were those of discomfort and insecurity; and the first training of a squadron of Turkish cavalry, was one of the most difficult reforms the Sultan had to encounter.

Our illustration presents the magnificent barracks built for the cavalry on the shores of the Bosphorus. Kislas, or “barracks,” are among the largest and most striking edifices seen round Constantinople. The first object seen on approaching the Bosphorus is the vast barrack at Scutari; and on the opposite hill, over the hanging grounds, at Dolma Baktche an equally large one. A splendid edifice of this kind existed at Levend Chiflik; but in the sanguinary conflict which took place between the military on the establishing of the Nizam Djeddit, or “new corps,” this noble edifice, with others, was razed to the ground. But of all the barracks round the city, that erected for the cavalry is the most decorated, and forms one of the most striking objects which ornament the lovely Bosphorus.

ENTRANCE TO THE DIVAN, CONSTANTINOPLE

T. Allom. F. W. Topham.

The Divan is not only a court of justice, but of legislature and diplomacy. It is here that laws are made, suits decided, firmans issued, troops paid, and the representatives of sovereigns made fit to be introduced to the august presence of the Sultan.

The chamber where all those affairs are transacted is a room in a small detached edifice surmounted by two domes, in the interior court of the seraglio. It is quite naked, with no furniture but a wooden bench running along the wall, about two or three feet high, covered with cushions. This long and fixed sofa is the furniture of every house. It is called a Divan, and gives its name peculiarly to this apartment. This chamber has no doors to shut at the entrance, for, as it is a court of justice, it is supposed to be always open, inviting all the world to enter it, and never to be closed against any suitor. Opposite the entrance is a moulding forming an arcade, round the summit of which is written in letters of gold, a confession of faith from the Koran, and beneath it is the seat of the judges. On the wall on the south is represented the form of an altar, to which suitors in any cause turn themselves, and, on a signal given by the crier, address prayers for the success of their suit, as to the Al-Caaba at Mecca. The grand vizir is obliged to administer justice in this hall four times a week−Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays.

As the Koran is the repository of the civil as well as the religious code of the empire, all suits are decided here by its authority. Attached to most mosques, are medresis or “colleges,” where students are instructed in law as well as divinity, by muderis or “professors.” When qualified by a certain course of study, they are despatched to the towns and villages in every part of the empire, where they become the mollas, naibs, and cadis, or various “judges,” appointed to dispense justice, founding all their decrees on the precepts of the Koran. Of these there are two considered as superiors, and named Cadileskers, one for the northern portions of the empire, called Roumeli Cadilesker, or “the supreme judge of Europe;” the other for the southern, called Anadoli Cadilesker, or “the supreme judge of Asia.” A third, who decides in ecclesiastical matters only, is called Istambol Effendi, or “judge of the capital.” These, particularly the two former, are always the assessors of the grand vizir in the Divan, and form with him the grand tribunal of the empire. From the earliest period of Oriental usage, the right hand has been deemed the post of honour, but the thing is reversed in matters connected with the law. The Turks are particularly tenacious of position as indicating distinction. The Cadilesker Anadoli sits on his left hand, and the Cadilesker Roumeli on his right, and the same precedence is rigidly observed among the suitors of the court. The judges, when constituting this tribunal, do not sit with their legs folded under them, as is the universal practice of all Orientals, but their legs are suffered to hang down and rest on a footstool, and it is thus the sultan himself receives the ambassadors of foreign powers. It is a deviation from the ordinary position, which is supposed to confer seriousness and dignity on any important occasion.

When a Turk goes to law, he first proceeds to an arzuhalgee; this is a kind of attorney, or licensed scrivener, who holds an office in various parts of the city, and who alone is permitted to undertake a statement of a case. So tenacious of this privilege is the arzuhalgee, that no officer of state, however competent his ability or high his station, can draw up a process for himself, but must apply to this scrivener. To him the plaintiff goes, and he draws up for him an arzuhal, which is not a detail of lengthened repetitions, but literally a brief, containing a statement of the case in a few words. With this he proceeds early in the morning to the Divan, on one of the appointed days of session, and he is ranged with other suitors in two long lines, awaiting for sunrise, when the grand vizir attends to open the court. On his arrival, he passes up the lane formed by the suitors, and, having arrived at the Divan, a small table covered with a cloth of gold is laid before him, and the court opens. The first suitor on the left has the precedence. He presents his arzuhal to a chaoush or officer in attendance, who hands it to the chaoush bashee, and by him it is laid before the buyuk teskiergee, or “great receiver of memorials,” who stands on the left hand of the grand vizir. He reads out the plaintiff’s case with a loud voice, and the defendant is called on for a reply. Here is none of the tedious formulas of European pleaders, no exhibitions of forensic eloquence, none of “the law’s delay.” Should it appear that any attempt was made to entangle the subject in legal quibbles, or lengthen it unnecessarily, so that justice maybe either defeated or deferred, the parties are liable to be bastinadoed on the spot, at the discretion of the judge.

Two witnesses are required to establish a fact, and never more. If it be a case of debt, the simple promise of the debtor is sufficient, either written and marked with his seal, or, if verbal, attested by witnesses. The parties generally plead their own cause; the judges, without reference to any code but the Koran, consider the simple facts. Having decided, they give sentence, which is submitted to the grand vizir; and, if it coincide with his own opinion, which is generally the case, he writes at the bottom of the arzuhal the word Sah, “surely.” If, on the contrary, he dissents, he writes his own decree, and the parties are dismissed with a hujet, or “sentence of the grand vizir,” which is final. It is on these occasions only, that disputation takes place in a Turkish court of justice; for if the cadileskers are supposed capable, either through ignorance or design, of pronouncing an unjust decree, they are degraded, and never suffered again to hold any place of trust. They, therefore, defend their opinions with obstinacy, and the court resounds, not with the pleadings of lawyers, but the disputation of the judges. Proceeding thus from left to right, the cases are summarily decided till it is dark, or they are all disposed of; and as justice may not be deferred by the intervention of any avoidable delay, the members of the court dine where they sit. A frugal meal is brought in at midday and despatched in a few minutes.

Such is the process when the Divan is a court of justice; but when it becomes a Galibé Divan, or “council chamber,” all the affairs of state become objects of its deliberation or discussion. This is held on Sundays and Mondays. Here the grand vizir and cadileskers also sit, assisted by the reis effendi, or “minister for foreign affairs,” the mufti, or “chief of ecclesiastical affairs,” and the agas, “or heads of the military departments.” When the first dawn of European light opened upon Turkey, this council of despotism made some approximation to a popular representation. In the difficulties that surrounded the state at the commencement of the Greek revolution, the embarrassed but enlightened Sultan invited the mutelins or “paymasters” of the different Janissary corps, and also deputies from the esnaffs or “corporations” of trades, to become members, and, as these were taken from the respectable class of citizens, they were fair representatives of their opinions to a certain extent, and so formed the first Turkish parliament.

The Sultan introduced another innovation also into the mysterious proceedings of the Divan. It was not usual for the sovereign to appear personally there, but whenever an affair was discussed, the grand vizir appeared before him, with the members of the council, in an apartment of the seraglio, and there took his directions. But, though he was seemingly absent, it was known that he was always present on any affair of importance. There stands at the back of the Divan, some distance above the heads of those who sit on it, a projection like a bow-window from the wall. This is covered with gilded lattice-work, and concealed by curtains drawn behind. It is called the Sha Nichin or “sultan’s seat,” and here he ensconced himself, and heard and saw whatever was going on below. As the curtain was usually drawn, it was not known to a certainty when he was there or not, but he was dreaded like the tyrant of Syracuse, as always listening, and sometimes detected by the angry gleam of an eye glancing through the lattice, and denouncing vengeance on some obnoxious member of the council. It is for this reason called “the dangerous window,” and looked up to with awe and terror from below. Many anecdotes are told of this Sha Nichin. Achmet I. who is said to be its inventor, constantly watched the proceedings of the Divan from hence, when it was supposed he was buried in sensual indulgences in the remote recesses of the seraglio. One day, when a court of justice was held, a soldier presented an arzuhal to the grand vizir, and, supposing it was treated with neglect, and himself with injustice, he drew his yatagan, and suddenly plunged it into his body. The chaoushs and others cast themselves upon the assassin, and were about to cut him to pieces, when the curtain of the Sha Nichin was drawn aside, and the voice of the Sultan was heard like thunder issuing from it. He commanded them to desist, and, stepping down, he himself examined the man’s case, with the bleeding body of the grand vizir on the Divan beside him. He thought he had reason to suppose the sentence was unjust, and the delinquent had provocation; so he dismissed the soldier as an injured man, and caused the body of the grand vizir to be cast into the sea as an unjust judge.

Another use of the Divan is, that it is the place where the troops, particularly the janissaries, received their pay. On these occasions men bring in small leathern bags of piasters, which they pile on the floor, till they form heaps three or four feet high, and ten or twelve long. When these are all laid, and the whole amount of pay ready, the grand vizir sends a sealed paper to the Sultan, notifying that large sums of money are lying before him on the ground, and humbly entreating to know what it is his pleasure to do with it. The chaoush returns after some delay, with an iron-shod pole, which he strikes loudly on the pavement, to announce his approach with the answer to the important question, and presents a huge packet to the vizir, which he receives with profound reverence, first pressing it to his forehead and then to his lips. Having read the communication, he announces aloud, that it is the Sultan’s pleasure that all the heaps of coin shall be distributed among the soldiers, detachments of whom are in attendance for the purpose. The bags are then brought out, and laid on the flags in front of the Divan. And now succeeds a scene of puerile enjoyment, which none but a Turk could relish. Certain dishes filled with smoking pilaff of soft rice, are laid at different distances, beside the heaps of coin; and at a signal given, the soldiers start, some to seize one, and some the other, and some both. There are then seen grave old men with long grizzled beards, all smeared with greasy rice, struggling with boys, and rolling over each other on the ground. This folly is highly relished by the sages on the Divan within, who look on with delight till all the bags of money and plates of rice have disappeared.

The last ceremony of the Divan is the reception of ministers of foreign powers, who come here to be duly made fit for presentation to the Sultan. On the day appointed they and their suits assemble at an early hour in the morning, and all the process of deciding causes, distributing money, and running for pilaff, is ostentatiously displayed before them, in order to dazzle, astonish, and impress on those stranger-infidels a high opinion of Turkish superiority. They are allowed to enter the Divan seemingly as spectators, and are left standing in the crowd without notice or respect. On rare occasions, the tired ambassador, if he be from a favoured nation, is allowed a joint-stool to sit on; but such an indulgence is not permitted to the rest: secretaries of legation, dragomans, consuls, &c. are kept standing for several hours, till the whole of the exhibition is displayed. It is then notified to the Sultan, that some giaours are in the Divan, and, on inquiring into their business, that they humbly crave to be admitted into his sublime presence, to prostrate themselves before him. It is now that orders are given to feed, wash, and clothe them, and it is notified that when they are fit to be seen, they will be admitted; and this is done accordingly. Joint-stools are brought in, on which are placed metal trays, without cloth, knife, or fork; and every one helps himself with his fingers, including the ambassador. After this scrambling and tumultuous refreshment, water is poured on the smeared and greasy persons who partake of it. They are then led forth to a large tree in the court, where a heap of pellises of various qualities lie on the pavement, shaken out of bags in which they were brought. From this, every person to be admitted to the presence takes one, and, having wrapped himself in it, he is seized by the collar, and dragged into the presence of the Sultan, as we have elsewhere noticed. Such were the unseemly ceremonies used on these occasions only a few years ago; but, like other Turkish barbarisms, they are daily disappearing, and the introduction of the representative of one sovereign to the audience of another, is approaching to the decorum of European usages.