Grelot described in minute detail, almost like a battle plan, the approach to Constantinople from the Mediterranean -- through the Dardanelles, the Hellespont, across the Sea of Marmara, up the Bosporus, and into the Golden Horn -- where fresh water was to be found, what food was available, which local people were friendly in these approach areas. He produced a fold-out panorama of the city just as it appears from the water approach with its bustling port and splendid views. Grelot sets the vista with a verbal framing of superlatives: "This is certainly that part of the Universe above all others, where the eye most deliciously feeds itself with a prospect every way delightful. There is nothing can be beheld, nor conceiv'd more charming to the sight, than this approach to Constantinople" (58). His engraving of the city also benefits specularly from his praise of the view : not only is the vista spectacular; so, by implication, is his own rendering of it. The text and the engravings together glorify the author/artist as much as their subject, the city, and as much as their dedicatee. The book, Grelot, the city and the king enter into a privileged communion. And, had Grelot had his way, Constantinople clearly would have become Louisville.

       Once Grelot has described the activities of the harbor, he once again concludes in a way that can only be calculated to incite his king to want to take immediate possession of the city, to follow the example and to set himself in the league of an earlier illustrious Christian leader:

Seeing that it has such great advantages, and those peculiar to itself, we need not wonder that Constantine the Great, so easily quitted the delights of Rome, and Transported the Seat of his Empire to Byzantium, and that he call'd it by his own name; nor indeed is there any other City so proper to command the Universe. With one glance of her eye she beholds the two most lovely parts of the whole, and in less than a quarter of an hour can send her orders from one part of the World where she is seated, to the other. Which therefore seems to make so near an approach to her lofty Towers on purpose to receive her Commands and submit to her Obedience. So that had Art and Nature consulted together, to form a Place where Beauty and Plenty should equally contend, they never could have been more successful, than in the adornment of that where Constantinople stands. (60)¹³

       And, in extending the panegyric, Grelot attests not only to the abundance of food -- birds, fruits, etc., but of happy food. For the king's greater delectation, he includes even the marveling local oysters and fish:

Fish, not to speak of oysters, in so great abundance stores their markets, that I know not whether it may not be one part of satisfaction to Curiosity for that very reason to see a City so well furnished with provision: You shall see them frisking every moment above Water. But whether to admire the Glory of that City, or to breathe in the Sweetness of the Air, be more pleasant, is a question. (60)¹⁴

        Thus Constantine's move from Rome to Byzantium -- the ‘natural’ felicitous center of the world, clearly was a wise move in the view of this artist, and one for the French king to emulate, even if it meant leaving Paris. After all, had Constantine not left Rome? If there was a divine right of kings, so there might also be a divine right of nature. This might require a slight shift in the demarcation the West drew between itself and the East, but such adjustments were not new. The suggestion that Constantinople was the ideal -- indeed the only -- site from which to command the universe sounds almost treasonous, directed as it is to Louis in Paris. However, in strategically placing his king in the heady company of other great men such as Alexander and Constantine (see above), Grelot was also covering his bases. Dosing his text with generous amounts of flattery, he could, as a loyal subject, set to unthreatening advantage the importance of his findings and drawings for his ruler.

       But Grelot was hardly alone in appreciating the beauty of Constantinople's location. Many other French travelers fell sway to the charms of the city. For example, earlier, in 1664, Jean Thévenot (see figure 1), another traveler, a sage and a well-regarded one, had already expressed uncannily similar admiration: "Tous ceux qui ont veu Constantinople sont d'accord que cette ville est dans la plus belle situation qui soit au monde, en sorte qu'il semble que la nature l'ait faite pour dominer et commander à toute la terre."¹⁵ And yet another traveler, Laurent d'Arvieux (1635-1702), offers in his Mémoires an almost identical panegyric: "Tout le monde convient que la situation de cette grande ville est la plus heureuse, la plus belle, et la plus commode qui soit au monde: il semble que l'auteur de la nature ait pris plaisir à la former pour y placer une ville qui semblait destinée à commander aux deux plus belles parties du monde l'Europe et l'Asie."¹⁶ In fact, these words sound so similar to Grelot's own praise that that it is clear that the artist had consulted a few sources before putting pen to paper. ¹⁷ Here again, the politically strategic importance of the city's location was underscored by d’Arvieux’s allusion to its "natural" capacity to govern the world. Such lavish praise, albeit purportedly coming from an aesthetic perspective, had to constitute a threat of no small proportions, a challenge, or, at the least, an enticement to a Western country such as France, and to an ego such as Louis’s.

       But once travelers proceeded to describe the finer details of the actual city, praise dropped off, and harsh criticism began, as if this more intimate expression of the Ottoman self, the city close-up, revealed the real character of the people and detracted from the beauty of the natural surroundings. The Ottomans were not deserving of the city, it is suggested, because their crude architecture did not do justice to the beauty of the site. These French criticisms sound like nothing so much as acts of allegiance to their authors' own native culture and to their own king.

       At roughly the same time (although his Voyages weren’t published until 1699), the Monseigneur Dumont, personal confessor to the French ambassador de la Haye (1638-59), also passed judgment on Istanbul. He drew sweeping conclusions from his several visits to Constantinople. He disparaged any praise of the city (perhaps out of especial loyalty to the Western Catholic dispensation), and gave a quite negative description of the close-up view. His assessment of the city was at odds with Grelot’s:

D'ailleurs le dehors des maisons Turquesques n'a point d'autre ornement qu'une méchante peinture rouge, appliquée sur le bois, et ce bois n'est jamais travaillé autrement, qu'avec la hache et la scie, de sorte qu'elles sont toujours fort vilaines. Cependant Monconi [another European] trouve que "les rues de Constantinople ont des beautés qui ne se peuvent décrire," et véritablement je crois que si on l'avait prié de le faire, il se serait trouvé bien en peine. Pour moi qui les ai vues plusieurs fois et qui en ai l'idée fort récente, je ne saurais m'empêcher de dire qu'à la réserve de l'hypodrome, et de quelques rues qui sont en très petit nombre, le reste a des désagréments insupportables. Etroites, courtes, ou tortues, obscures, point pavées, mal propres, et bordées de vilaines maisons, c'est le plus fidèle tableau que je vous en saurais faire.¹⁸

        Such aspects of the city as could be understood as expressions of the Turkish people were generally belittled and found wanting. Even Grelot's praise for the Sultan's gardens and palace, "le Grand Serrail," Topkapi Palace, the Sublime Porte, was guarded in this same manner, as if praise for the actual building -- too closely identified with its prime resident the Sultan -- might appear seditious: "Now it is not to be imagin'd, that the Gardens of the Serraglio are in any manner to compare with that of the Thuilleries, Versailles, Fontainebleau, nor with the Gardens of several private Gentlemen in France; nor is it to be thought, that the Buildings which they enclose, can boast of any thing comparable to the Louvre, the Escurial, or the Magnificent Palaces of many Christian Princes; for there is nothing handsome or regular about the outside of this building; and if it wins over all the palaces in the universe, it is only the view that makes it the most beautiful place in the world."¹⁹ By insisting only on the natural beauty of the site, and denying that of the Ottoman-built palace itself or even the grounds, by playing on the passive - active dichotomy (if the place was beautiful, it was no thanks to the Ottomans), Grelot remained culturally loyal to the king. However, the very act of articulating such invidious comparisons underscores a spirit of rivalry, marked by a persistent undercurrent of religious identification -- all of Christian Europe is here thrown into the balance. These are politically charged and competitive esthetics.

       Through the acts of describing and depicting, Grelot inscribes Constantinople as subject to his design. He imposes his artistic will and captures the city's likeness. He especially devotes energy and space to setting forth the religious customs, practices, and monuments of Islam -- as if these were the mainstays of Ottoman power that constituted the real challenge to a French take-over. His descriptions, diagrams, snatches of bookish history, along with his casual anecdotes all point, however discreetly, to a religious orientation as key to the Ottoman world (and to French national sentiment). The overall organization of Grelot’s book makes sense only if we consider it as a blueprint offered to Louis for purposes of conquest — to be specifically justified as a religious crusade. How else to explain the inordinate amount of attention accorded to the relatively powerful Greek Orthodox inhabitants of the city (see the complete title of Grelot's book)? Grelot pays scant attention to any of the other religious minorities (the Jews, and even other Christians -- the Armenians), who were present in significant numbers. His point was perhaps to suggest that "His Christian Majesty" already had in place within the city some potential outsider insider allies should he choose to act.

       However, such a reading of the local situation would have been misguided, as there persisted a strong antipathy grounded in a long tradition of past antagonisms between the Greek Orthodox and the Roman Catholics. As early as 1452, when Constantinople was falling to the Ottomans under Mehmed II, Constantine II sought assistance from the Pope. He promised in return for support advantageous trading conditions for Genoa and Venice. But when the Pope set the condition of the celebration of the Latin liturgy in the Sancta Sophia, there was public outcry and revolt on the part of the Greek Orthodox, who took up the memorable chant: "Better the Turkish turban than the Papal mitre!"²⁰

       But Grelot was Louis’s man. The artist takes pride in telling how he managed to insinuate himself into and around the city where he was, he claims, a suspect foreigner, and to proceed undisturbed with his observations of the place and the people. Edward Said has observed that the Orient functions as a "theatrical stage affixed to Europe."²¹ That stage was populated not only by the scrutinized and mirroring "Other," but by French adventurers such as Grelot, who, in ever greater numbers, negotiated it as a space of performance. Those who came to Constantinople found a society that appeared different and closed to them. In order to penetrate within the strange space, they developed proto-ethnological field skills: they disguised themselves and assumed roles, that is, they transformed themselves into actors. The Orient itself was becoming literally a space of performance. The artist Grelot relished disguising himself, role-playing, he was, at least as he tells it, a consummate performer.

       Witness his boastings about how he sneaked into the mosque of Ayasofya (previously Hagia Sophia): "The great difficulty a Christian has to get entrance into this Mosquee, may assure you of the exactness of the Draughts, besides that my habit, beard, and knowledge of the Language gave me frequent access to places where others could not have admission. (The Author to the Reader)"²² This exercise in "passing," was executed for the benefit of the King and the French (and eventually the English) at home, that they might have an accurate image of the interior of a building off-limits to all save the Turkish Muslims. Grelot was responding, then, to domestic demand, as he was creating it, and rising to the challenge of the forbidden. At the same time, his boastings also underscore several features of his work that he would have the reader keep in mind since they enhance the value of his book: the "great difficulty," his successful disguise, his knowledge of the language, and foremost, the accuracy, hence the worth, of his drawings.

       But was it that difficult for a foreigner to get about and to maneuver in Constantinople? In fact, often enough, and even by his own eventual admission, Grelot succeeded in gaining access to buildings, etc., not by his wits, disguises or linguistic skills, but by the more sure, and universal mode -- the bribe. But this certainly didn't make as good a story! And it came too close to setting an actual price on his "invaluable" engravings.

13. "Après de si grands avantages, et qui luy sont si particuliers, il ne faut pas s'étonner de ce que le Grand Constantin quitta si facilement les délices de la ville de Rome pour transporter à Bysance le siège de son Empire, et luy donner son nom. Aussi n'y a-t-il point de ville plus propre qu'elle à commander tout l'Univers; elle en voit d'une seule oeillade les deux plus belles parties, & peut en moins d'un quart d'heure faire passer ses ordres de l'Europe où elle est située, jusque dans l'Asie, qui semble ne s'approcher d'elle que pour venir se soumettre à ses lox. Ainsi quand l'art & la nature se seroient accordez ensemble pour former un lieu où la beauté & l'abondance fussent égales, ils n'auroient jamais pu mieux réussir qu'en faisant ce qui est à Constantinople" (Grelot, Fr., 70).

14. "Les poissons, sans parler des huistres, y sont en si grande abondance, que je ne sçay si se n'est point aussi la curiosité de voir Constantinople qui les y ameine par troupes et en si grande quantité. On les voit souvent sauter hors de l'eau les uns aprés les autres, plutost pour admirer les beautez de cette grande ville, que pour respirer la douceur de son air dont ils n'ont pas besoin. (Grelot, Fr., 70-71)

15. All those who have seen Constantinople are agreed that this city is in the most beautiful situation that exists in the world, such that it seems that Nature created this place to dominate and command all the earth (Thévenot, Relation d'un voyage fait au Levant (Paris: chez Louis Bilaine, 1665), 34; my English here).

16. Laurent d'Arvieux, Mémoires, part 4, 447; Eng.: Everyone agrees that the setting of this great city is the most felicitous, the most beautiful, and the most convenient in the world: it seems that nature's author took pleasure in shaping it to set a city there that would seem destined to rule the two most beautiful parts of the world, Europe and Asia..

17. Indeed, Grelot had expressed concern in his "Avis au Lecteur" that his text might strongly resemble that of other travelers were it not for his original drawings; see below.

18. The outside of Turkish houses has no decoration other than a poor red paint, applied on wood, and this wood is worked only with hatchet and saw, such that they are always quite ugly. . . . With the exception of the racetrack, and of a few streets which are quite rare, the rest have unbearable problems. Narrow, short, or twisted, dark, not at all paved, dirty, lined with ugly houses, this is the most faithful picture I can convey to you (Dumont, Voyages de Mr. Dumont, 73-74; my translation).

19. "Il ne faut pas s'imaginer que les jardins du Serrail soient quelque chose d'approchant de celuy des Thuilleries, de Versailles, de Fontainebleau, ou mesme des jardins de plusieurs particuliers de France, ny que les édifices qu'il enferme ayent quelque chose de semblable au Louvre, ou à l'Escurial, bien loin de la magnificence des Palais de nos Princes; . . . Il n'y a rien de beau ny de regulier àl'exterieur de cette Maison [le Grand Serrail]; et s'il l'emporte sur tous les Palais de l'Univers, c'est la seule veue qui le rend le plus beau lieu du monde" (Grelot, 91).

20. Assad J. Rustum, The Church of the City of God: Great Antioch, vol. 3 (Beirut: Editions Saint Paul, 1988), 3. Translated from the Arabic by George Saliba ad lib.

21. Edward W. Said, Orientalism (New York: Vintage Books, 1979), 63.

22. "Les grandes difficultez qu'il y a pour un Chrétien d'entrer dans cette Mosquée, ne doivent pas vous faire douter de l'exactitude des crayons que j'en ay tirez, l'habit, la barbe, et la langue Turque dont je me servais, me donnoient souvent l'entrée des lieux qui estoient fermes à bien du monde" (Grelot, Fr., xii).