They have some of the domestic institutions of the Osmanlis, and the women wear thick white veils, but without concealing the features, as in the case of the Turkish ladies. The young virgins are allowed to wear their hair long and flowing--but after marriage it is carefully concealed beneath a towering and cumbersome headgear, which is a wonderful illustration of the tenacity with which this singular race adheres to ancient usages. It recalls to mind the days of Pharaoh and the people of Israel, for the similarity is perfect between their present head-dress and that of the mummies who have reposed in their tombs ever since the family of Joseph "took their cattle and their goods, which they had gotten in the land of Canaan, and came into Egypt, Jacob and all his seed with him."
As they were originally from Spain, their language is still a mongrel dialect of that country.
They are very strict in the observance of their religious rites and ceremonies--never transacting any business on the Sabbath, nor performing any domestic duties. Even their lamps on Sabbath evenings must be lighted by some one of their Christian neighbors--and should a conflagration occur on that day, their helplessness is truly pitiable, for they will see all their property consumed without making one effort to save it.
At the time that the Turks took Constantinople, there was a colony of Genoese Venetians established in a suburb of the city, called Galata, who were allowed to retain this quarter, which occupies the declivity of the hill with the summit called Pera, where the European emigrants, attracted by commerce and other motives, as well as the foreign dignitaries, have ever since continued to reside. The warehouses of the merchants are at Galata, which is connected with the city by a floating bridge across the Golden Horn.
A little above Galata, on the Bosphorus, is a Turkish quarter called Top-hané, or the department of ordnance, through which access is usually obtained to Pera. The most busy and varied scene is constantly presented to the eye at this quay. The graceful cayiks with their delicately pointed prows lie on all sides, some waiting for the convenience of passengers, and others engaged in disembarking their living freight. It is wonderful to observe the dexterity of cayikgees. Now, a single boatman pushes up his slender craft, and succeeds in gaining just space enough to slip in, so closely packed are the boats all around. It may be some lonely veiled woman who is safely landed. Anon arrives the large omnibus cayik, as completely stored with live stock as the New York avenue cars on a Sunday.