The traveller is warned against wearing a fez on his arrival in the East, which is ‘a very unwise thing to do, as by donning the native head-gear he ipso-facto loses his foreign prestige’. He is also told that: ‘There is no postal delivery at Constantinople; letters must be called for at the Post Office at which they are expected to arrive.’
As for getting about, we read in Black’s: ‘With two or three exceptions, the streets of Constantinople are but little better than narrow, crooked, wretchedly-paved, and dirty alleys.’ As a guide or dragoman, Hutton, of the Medieval Towns series, strongly recommends: ‘Eustathios Livathinos as a most pleasant companion. Jacob Moses has also much experience.’
We are also told in Black’s that: ‘The Jews are pretty numerous, and are, with some exceptions, the poorest and most wretched of all the races inhabiting Constantinople. Many of the Greeks, Armenians, and Jews are employed under the Government; but the majority of them are merchants, shop-keepers, artisans, hawkers, labourers, etc. They are officially styled “rayah” or “the herd”, a term which the Turks apply to the non-Mussulman subjects.’ The Guide Bleu says that ‘the Jews make up the part of the population of the Ottoman Empire the least hostile to foreigners’.
One’s conduct has to be continually monitored nevertheless, because on visiting the Aya Sophia Mosque, which Baedeker’s double asterisk makes a ‘must’: ‘Visitors should be careful not to touch anything.’ The Mediterranean Traveller, 1905, published for tourists from the United States, tells its readers: ‘All foreigners in Turkey are under constant suspicion and surveillance, and are greatly hindered in their personal and business affairs.’
A section in Black’s dealing with theatres and music halls states that the theatre at Shehzdeh Bachi ‘should not be visited by ladies’. How you would pay your entrance fee would seem a problem, in any case, because the same book tells us: ‘There is practically no such thing as legal tender in Turkey, and payment may be made in coins of any current denomination.’
Taking boats from one shore to another is no relaxing matter. ‘These craft are very crank, and the greatest care should be taken in getting in and out of them. They are not provided with thwarts for passengers, but the latter have to sit down on the cushions in the well, where if they only sit still they are safe enough.’
If the theatres are morally out of bounds perhaps the traveller will take note of the following in Murray: ‘The devotional exercises of the Dancing Dervishes are held on Tuesday and Friday, after the Sultan returns from the mosque. Those of the Howling Dervishes may be witnessed at Skutari.’
Another feature of the town are the dogs, of which Murray gives the best account. ‘There are two popular errors concerning the dogs that throng the streets of Constantinople; the one, that they are ferocious; the other that they are scavengers, and thus instruments of cleanliness. The Constantinople dog is a mild, sociable creature, never aggressive, and always thankful for small mercies. But he is anything but an instrument of cleanliness; on the contrary, he contributes in no small measure to the uncleanliness of the streets, and his scavenging is limited to rummaging for edible morsels in the heaps of rubbish which householders throw out before their doors for the dustman to clear away in the morning. The dog’s existence is precarious; depending on the produce of dust heaps aforesaid, on the scraps and offal of the butchers, and on the stale loaves which bakers cut up and distribute.’
Murray then describes how the canine population operate the same strict demarcation system as in Cairo, concluding: ‘The principal inconvenience of the dogs to mankind is their nocturnal barking and howling. The number of them, however, has perceptibly diminished of late years; the waste spaces in which they used to bask and breed have been enclosed or built over, and gradually the Constantinople dog is being improved away.’
Perhaps the following rules were drawn up by the police based on their knowledge of the dogs’ passion for guarding their territory: ‘Police regulations in Constantinople do not differ much from those in other European cities. But the police, who are all Moslems, are wanting in knowledge and tact, and they are not always to be relied on in case of a difficulty. It is, however, easy to keep out of trouble. In the frequented parts of the city a foreigner runs no risk whatever of molestation, if his own conduct is discreet. If, however, he penetrates into the quarters inhabited exclusively by Mussulmans, he should be always accompanied by a dragoman. The children in these quarters are prone to hooting and throwing stones, and any resentment of these offences is certain to lead to difficulty. If the traveller strays into one of those quarters, the best thing to do is make his way out of it as soon as possible. Should a traveller get into trouble, the only course to follow is to exercise the utmost patience, and on arriving at the police station, to send a note to the Consulate.’
One would not in any case want to be caught in any of the above areas after reading about fires in Constantinople, which are said to be ‘of frequent occurrence and often very destructive, desolating whole quarters of the city. Great precautions are now taken both to prevent them, and to check their progress. The fire-engines are in the hands of firemen who are paid by enjoying some special privileges; but the engines are small boxes, which are carried on the shoulders of four men; these run head-long, crying “fire!” at the tops of their voices. Having reached the place of conflagration, they wait to be hired by people whose houses are in danger. There is another set of firemen who prove eminently useful on such occasions. They are soldiers armed with axes and long poles, with iron hooks at the end. These tear down the wooden houses, and so isolate the fire, as effectually to put an end to its ravages. Still, a fire in Constantinople is an awful scene; 2000 houses and shops have been known to burn in the space of a few hours. It is indeed impossible to describe the confusion and horror of the sight. Men, women, and children escaping from their abandoned homes, each dragging or carrying on his shoulder whatever he happened to catch at the moment. The police are powerless for good. Evilintentioned men rush into the houses and rob them, under the pretence of being friends of the family. They have been known to spread the conflagration by carrying burning coals into dwellings yet unreached by the flames.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
RUSSIA
After the delights and perils of Turkey our traveller may decide to visit Russia on his long way home, thus completing the circuit of his Grand Tour. From Constantinople a boat will carry him through the Black Sea to Odessa. As for getting through the Russian Customs, we learn: ‘In order to encourage the officials in discovering contraband goods the following general rule is issued: “In the event of goods liable to duty and confiscation being found while the search is being carried out, all the searchers who took part in the discovery will receive a reward from the first hah of the reward fund.”’
The Customs ordeal seems to have been more onerous than in other places: ‘Whether,’ says Baedeker’s Russia, 1914, ‘at the railway frontier station or at a seaport the examination of passengers’ luggage is generally thorough. Unprinted paper only should be used for packing, to avoid any cause of suspicion.
‘The only things that are passed DUTY FREE are Used Objects indispensable for the journey. Travellers should avoid works of a political, social, or historical nature; bound books are subject to duty. Passengers are particularly warned against offering gratuities. Prohibited goods, such as gunpowder and playing cards, are confiscated.’