I have been fascinated with the history of Constantinople (or modern Istanbul) for ages and was eager to visit the city for the first time. Although I was traveling alone, I was not the least bit lonely as I was so eagerly anticipating seeing the city and its many historical sites that I felt no need for companionship. The Turks of Istanbul are notably friendly and what little loneliness I might have felt was vanquished by sharing cups of strong Turkish coffee with many of the local people. Interestingly enough, it is sipped with a sugar cube held between the front teeth. Many are the citizens of that area who no longer have front teeth!
I spent my first night in the Kariye Hotel in Edirnekapi, about 3 kilometers from the center of Istanbul, anxious for the morning to arrive so I could start exploring. I chose this hotel because it is in close proximity to the Edirnekapı Martyr’s Cemetery and I was interested in starting my historical exploration there.
The Edirnekapı Martyr’s Cemetery is an important burial ground for Turkish citizens. It is located outside Edirnekapı, the Gate of Charisius of the city wall, on top of the sixth hill of the old city. It was originally formed for the Ottoman soldiers who fell during the Siege of Constantinople in 1453. However, it also holds other folk who are associated with the Ottoman Empire in other ways.
It is rumored that it holds the final remains of Hayreddin Barbarossa, the scourge of the Mediterranean in the first half of the 16th century. He was appointed as the admiral of the Ottoman fleet in 1533 after he captured Algiers in 1529. In 1534, he conquered all of Tunisia. Additionally, he defeated the fleet of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V in 1538. He was always a favorite of mine and I was anxious to see if I could find his gravesite.
Unfortunately, due to the vagaries of travel and the tap water that I drank the night before, I was subjected to a violent bout of Montezuma’s revenge (or more properly I suppose, by Muhammad’s revenge since Constantinople was last captured by Sultan Muhammad II). It was, therefore, close to dark when I felt well enough to start my exploration of the cemetery.
While I am not particularly superstitious, it was a chilling and somewhat menacing place to enter so close to sundown. Nevertheless, I gathered up my courage and walked into the cemetery determined to find Barbarossa’s gravesite. The late afternoon was still and unnaturally quiet and it caused me to search more frantically so I could leave the area before it became fully dark.
It wasn’t until after the sky had become fairly dark that I wandered into the section of the cemetery where it appeared that most of the inhabitants were sailors of some sort. I couldn’t read the headstones all that well, of course, but there were plenty of tombs marked with sailing ships, sea eagles and other indications that this section was primarily for sailors.
As it became more fully dark, I walked around a monument that was larger than most and almost ran into a small, bearded man with a turban on his head sitting cross-legged on the ground. He paid me little heed, however, and even though I attempted to apologize, he ignored me. For a while, I just stared at him, wishing I could talk to him. Not knowing exactly how to respond to his indifference, though, I decided that perhaps I should just leave.
The next day, I visited one of the larger museums in Istanbul and came across a painting of a man that bore an uncanny resemblance to the man I had seen in the cemetery. Moving closer to the painting, I read the inscription under it: “Hayreddin Barbarossa, also known as Redbeard the Pirate”. I couldn’t believe it! It was Red I had been seeing the night before!
