TURKISH WEDDINGS.
Early Marriage—Betrothal—Divorce—Love Matches—The
Trousseau—Wedding Ceremonies—Marital Discipline in
Macedonia—Monday: Arrangement of Trousseau in Bridegroom’s
House—Tuesday: Bathing the Bride—Wednesday: Visit of the
Bridegroom’s Party to Bride’s House—Great Festivities—The
Kena—Thursday: The Girding of the Bride—The Bridegroom goes to
the Mosque—Final Amenities of Friendship—Interested Marriages.
The Turks generally marry early, from seventeen for the men, and from
eleven for the girls—who all marry, so that an old maid, like many other
European institutions, is absolutely unknown in Turkey. This custom of
early marriages is encouraged by parents as a check upon their sons
contracting wild habits. It may in this respect have the desired effect,
but must be very injurious in every other. How can a youth of seventeen
or twenty, whose studies, if he by chance has pursued any, are not
finished, whose career in life is yet to begin, assume the weight of a
family without morally and physically suffering for it? Ambition, the
mainspring of a young man’s exertions, damped by the early contraction
of sedentary habits, soon degenerates into listless indifference. The
intellectual faculties, crossed in the pursuit of knowledge by a current
of ideas and responsibilities totally foreign to them, are checked before
they have had their due course; while, physically speaking, harem life,
bad at all the stages of the life of a Turk among the higher orders, must
be incalculably worse when entered upon so early.
The _Nekyah_, or betrothal, comprises the fiançailles as well as the
matrimonial contract. The preliminaries of the engagement are undertaken
by the parents of the contracting parties. The mother or some near
relative of the young man, in company with a few of her friends and the
_Koulavouz_, starts on a tour of inspection, visiting families known
to possess marriageable daughters. The object of the visit being made
known, they are admitted, and the eldest girl presents herself, offers
coffee, kisses hands all round, waits to take the empty cups, and then
disappears, her inspectors having to content themselves with the short
view they have thus had of her. Should this prove satisfactory, they at
once enter into negotiations, make inquiries as to the age and dowry
of the girl, answer counter-inquiries on the condition of the youth,
and say that, if it be agreeable to both parties and it is _Kismet_
that the marriage should take place, they will come again and make the
final arrangements. On the mother’s return home, she gives a faithful
description of the maiden’s appearance to her son, and should this meet
with his approval, the intermediaries are commissioned to settle all
preliminaries.
The dowry is, of course, among Muslims given by the bridegroom; the only
dowry Turkish brides are bound to bring consists in a rich _trousseau_.
Should the lady possess any property the husband cannot assume any
right over it, nor over any of the rest of her belongings. The wisdom
and generosity of this law cannot be too highly commended; it is an
indispensable clause in the canons of polygamy. So easy is it for a Turk
to divorce his wife that he has only to say to her in a moment of anger,
“Cover thy face, thy _nekyah_ is in thy hands,” and she ceases to be his
wife, and must at once leave his abode, carrying with her, luckily for
her, “bag and baggage.”
The privileges of divorce thus indulgently permitted to a man are
entirely beyond the reach of a woman, whom no human power can release
from her _nekyah_ vows without her husband’s free consent. And even
if she gain her husband’s consent to a divorce, she thereby loses her
dowry and _trousseau_, which she would retain if divorced not of her own
motion. This unfair restriction gives rise to many unhappy disputes,
issuing in litigation which ever proves vain and fruitless against the
obstinacy of the husband or, even worse, his helplessness, should he
become insane; for a lunatic’s word of divorce cannot count before the
law.
The following sad history of a bride I knew is a good illustration of the
latter case. The heroine was a fine brunette, the daughter of Yousuf Bey,
a rich and influential personage in the town of B⸺. A _nekyah_ had been
contracted between her and a young man rather queer and strange in his
manners, but very wealthy—a consideration which more than counterbalanced
his failings in the estimation of her avaricious father.
The _Duhun_, or wedding-day, fixed upon, the festivities began according
to the routine of pomp and display usual among the wealthy. As the
wedding-day approached the bridegroom became more and more strange; now
falling into fits of deep melancholy, now into merriment.
His friends, noticing this, suggested that it was _jahilik_, or
childishness, occasioned by the prospect of his approaching happiness,
crossed by the thought that he had no father to participate in it, and
no mother to second him in his duties by welcoming his bride to her
future home.
Be this as it may, the _Duhun_ went on all the same; the bride, decked
in her splendid array, arrived at the bridegroom’s house, and was met,
according to custom, by the bridegroom, who, under the direction of the
_Koulavouz_, was waiting to conduct her to her apartment. The emotion
of the moment was too much for his vacillating mind. He fixed his gaze
for a moment upon his bride with a vacant stare; her face was unknown to
him. The tinsel, the bridal veil, the crowd of _hanoums_ surrounding her,
failed to impress him with the solemnity of the event his mind no longer
comprehended.
In vain the shrill voice of the _Koulavouz_ strove to make him understand
her repeated suggestion that he should conduct his bride upstairs.
Her words, confusedly caught, and mingled with some flickering notion
of what he ought to do, at length urged him to action. He seized the
_Koulavouz_, a frightful old witch, passed her arm through his, and
with the determination and obstinacy of the madman led her upstairs and
placed her in the bridal bower. A miserable scene of confusion ensued.
The poor bride, faint and sick at heart, re-entered her coach and hurried
back to the paternal roof, while the _hanoums_ made a rush towards their
_yashmaks_ and _feridjés_, dismayed at the misfortune and alarmed by the
screams of the old _Koulavouz_, who was making frantic efforts to release
herself from the tight embrace of the maniac. Help from the Selamlik soon
arrived, and the madman was secured.
Seven years have elapsed, the unhappy bride is still pining over her
misfortunes and the loss of the liberty which all efforts have thus far
proved unable to restore to her.
A Turkish husband has the power of divorcing his wife and taking her
back twice; but should he send her away for the third time, she must be
married to another man before she can again return to her first husband.
This strange and disgusting law is meant as a check upon people disposed
to abuse too often the privilege of divorce. The person asked to fulfil
this strange position of intermediary husband must be advanced in years,
generally belongs to the poorer class, and receives a sum of money for
his services. The conditions are that he should enter the abode of the
lady for one night only, with every right over her of a legal husband,
and quit it the next morning, telling her, “Thy liberty is in thy
hands, thou art no longer my wife.” Cases have been known when the old
gentleman, finding his position pleasant, has refused to give the lady
up, and if this should happen the first husband is wholly without remedy,
and must forego his desire of reunion with his former wife.
An incident of the kind happened at Adrianople, affording much merriment
to my Turkish friends. The couple concerned were very fond of each other,
and lived happily together except at times, when the husband, under the
influence of _raki_, would become quarrelsome. The wife, a fine spirited
woman, would retort, and violent disputes followed, ending in alternate
divorce and reconciliation. This happening once too often, the husband,
unable to repossess himself of his spouse, had recourse to an old
_effendi_ who had seen better days, and promised £20 for his services.
The _effendi_, according to custom, went to the bath, dressed himself in
a new suit of clothes, and being presented at the appointed time, the
_nekyah_ ceremony was gone through. The old gentleman walked into the
harem, seated himself upon the lady’s sofa, and began to enjoy, through
the fumes of his nargilé, the sweet vision of his unlooked-for happiness;
while the lady, whose dreams did not exactly harmonize with his, after
offering the acquaintance-cup of coffee, generally shared by the wife on
such an occasion, preferred standing at a respectful distance. The old
effendi, however, would not be balked in the prospect he had formed for
the re-enjoyment of his former happier days. Why should he not prolong
the tenure of the rights thus unexpectedly devolving upon him? Nothing
hindered but his pledged word to renounce them on the following morning.
His conscience easily reconciled to this breach of faith, he decided upon
remaining master of the situation, leaving the poor husband to lament the
loss of his wife and his £20, and quite regardless of the useless burden
he would become to the doubly-injured lady. Such events, however, are not
of frequent occurrence.
It is customary for the bridegroom to furnish the wedding-dress and
sundry other accessories, as well as to promise the _nekyah_ money
settled upon the wife in case of divorce. These, including the _Kaftan_
(outer wedding dress) are sent with great pomp eight days before the
_Duhun_. The Hodja, priest of the parish in which the parents of the girl
reside, is requested to give a declaration that the young lady is free
to contract matrimony. This, taken to the Kadi, obtains the marriage
license, for which a small fee is paid. A piece of red silk and some
sugar-plums are taken by the bridegroom’s mother to the house of the
bride. The red silk, which later on is made into an under-garment, is
spread on this occasion on the floor; upon it the young lady steps to
kiss the hand of her future mother-in-law and receive the gift with her
blessing.
Half of one of these sugar-plums, bitten in two by her pearly teeth, is
taken to the bridegroom as the first love token; literal sweetness in
this case making up for any fault in the sentiment. These preliminaries
are sealed by the formality performed by the Imam in the presence of
witnesses who are called to the door of the Haremlik, behind which the
maiden and her friends stand. The Imam asks the bride if she consents
to accept the youth proposed (giving his name) for her husband. The
question is repeated three times, the bride answering each time in the
affirmative. The Hodja has to declare the amount of the _nekyah_ money
promised, and calls three times upon the bystanders to bear witness
before God to the contract; a short prayer follows, and the ceremony is
concluded. The felicitations are conveyed in the poetical expression
of “May Allah grant harmony between their two stars!” The contract,
religious as well as civil, is made verbally, and though no other
ceremony of importance follows it, the bride and bridegroom do not see
each other till the _Duhun_, or wedding festivities, have been held. The
length of this period may be from a few weeks to a few years, and is a
blank which potential love is at liberty to fill with fantastic pictures
of coming happiness. No sweet messages, letters, or communications of
any kind are allowed during the interval to pave the way towards the
future binding together of two beings whose common lot is cast, without
regard to personal sympathy, into the vague abyss of destiny. Kismet,
the supreme ruler of all Turkish events, is left to decide the degree of
misery or indifference that marriage contracted under such unfavorable
circumstances may bring, instead of the looked-for happiness.
Romance, ending in marriage, however, is not unknown between Turkish
youths and maidens, and the parents seldom refuse their consent in such
cases. Young love, even Turkish love, is sometimes strong enough to break
through the barriers of harem restraint and reach its object in spite
of every obstacle with which the organization of centuries of jealous
guardianship has surrounded Turkish women.
At Adrianople, a young beauty of sixteen suddenly began to pine and
sicken. The color faded from her cheeks, she became thoughtful, sad,
and listless; a low fever set in, greatly alarming the anxious parents,
who were at a loss to divine the cause. As usual, all the learned Hodjas
were resorted to, but their _Muskas_, prayers, and blessings failed
to revive the sinking health and spirits of the maiden. One day I
happened to visit this family; the girl was seated at the corner window,
overlooking the street, dreamily gazing out from behind the lattice. Her
little brother was playing by her side, while the mother was describing
to me the symptoms of her daughter’s indisposition. The little fellow
suddenly jumped up, saying, “_Ishdé_ Ali Bey. I want to go to him!” His
sister started up, her cheeks suffused with blushes, and left the room in
confusion. Both the mother and I noticed the incident, though no remark
was made about it at the time by either of us; but I was at no loss then
to understand the reason of the girl’s failing health and depression of
spirits. A short time after I heard of her engagement to this young man,
whom it appears she had loved as a child. This love later on becoming
a hidden passion was shared by the youth and stealthily interpreted
between them by the language of flowers, fruits, and scents, the mediums
generally resorted to by Turks in such cases. The lover, handsome and
intelligent, was a mere _Kyatib_, who deemed his limited means an
obstacle to his aspiring to the hand of one of the wealthiest young
hanoums of the town. I was present at the marriage festivities of this
lovely creature, and saw her a year later a blooming wife and mother.
The trousseau comprises bedding, sometimes to the amount of fifty sets,
each composed of two mattresses, two quilted coverlets, and three cotton
bolsters; kitchen utensils, all of copper, very numerous, consisting of
two or three immense cauldrons, several large jugs and pans, and a great
number of dinner-trays, with the services belonging to them; among the
wealthy one of these would be of silver. It also comprises furniture
for two rooms of some rich material embroidered with gold, a handsome
_mangal_ (brazier), curtains, and a few carpets and rugs, besides the
house linen. The wardrobe contains several expensive fur jackets, a shawl
or two, some _feridjés_, and a number of suits of apparel, consisting
of under-gowns and jackets. The _gelinlik_, or wedding-dress, ranging
in value from sixty to hundreds of pounds, is embroidered with gold and
pearls. The rest are less rich in material, and are of silk and woollen
stuffs, and less expensive materials down to print _gedjliks_. The other
articles are chemises, a few pairs of stockings, boots, and slippers,
some dozens of worked handkerchiefs, head-ties, and _yashmaks_, together
with a number of European odds and ends, such as petticoats, gloves, and
parasols.
The _Duhun_, like the circumcision ceremony, lasts a whole week,
occasioning great expense to the parents, who, however, cannot possibly
avoid it, and often incur debts for its celebration that hang heavily
upon them through life.
The customs connected with weddings differ according to the district
in which they take place. In Macedonia I was highly amused to see the
manner in which the bride was introduced into her new home. As soon as
her feet had crossed the threshold, a halter was thrown round her neck
and she was dragged in by her husband, to teach her an early lesson of
gentle four-footed obedience; on passing the first hearth-stone her head
was brought into violent contact with the wall, as a warning of the
chastisement she may expect in case of misconduct.
Her face is a mask of gold-dust and gum worked on the cheeks, forehead,
and chin with spangles. The eyebrows are thickly painted and meet over
the nose, and the teeth are blackened. This hideous disguisement is worn
till evening, when the bridegroom, on his first visit to the bride, pours
out the water with which she washes it away in order to give the nuptial
kiss.
The wedding festivities begin on the Monday. A number of friends and
relatives collect at the home of the bride to superintend the final
arrangement and expedition of the trousseau to the bridegroom’s house.
This luggage is carried by _Hammals_, who, on arrival at the house, are
entitled beside their fee to a _chevré_, or marked handkerchief offered
by the mother. They are preceded on their march by the _Koulavouz_, who
delivers their burdens into the charge of the mother-in-law or some
responsible person. Shortly afterwards, the bride’s party follows, who
after partaking of coffee and bonbons are shown by the _hanoum_ into the
apartments destined for the occupation of the bride.
It is customary for Turkish youths who have homes to take their wives
to them on marrying. Should the Konak be too small to accommodate all
the married sons, extra wings are added to it. The guests, left to
themselves, at once set to work to decorate the bridal chamber, some
stretching strings along the walls on which to hang the larger articles
of dress, such as furred and embroidered jackets, _feridjés_, cloaks,
and _intaris_, all of bright colors, and richly worked and trimmed. The
shawls, prayer carpet, and bridal _boghcha_, all objects of value, occupy
the centre of these rows, which are successively surmounted by others,
consisting of the linen, kerchiefs, towels, head scarves, and other
adjuncts of the toilet, all arranged with great taste. Along the top of
the walls runs a garland of crape flowers. The bride’s corner is richly
decorated with these and other artificial flowers, arranged in the form
of a bower. This promiscuous exhibition of silk gauze and various stuffs,
intermingled with embroidery in variegated silks, gold, and silver,
is most striking in effect, and forms, with the bridal bower, a sight
peculiarly Oriental and gorgeous. The alcove is reserved for the display
of jewels and other precious objects placed under glass shades.
When this adornment (which takes up the whole night) is completed,
the party goes to the next room and arranges the furniture sent for
it, thence proceeding to the hall and unpacking the bedding, which,
placed against the walls upon the empty cases, forms a huge mass of
colored strata of silk, embroidery, and bright cotton print. One or two
little stools of walnut wood, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, support the
candelabra, and the _hochaf_ tray with its prettily cut crystal bowl and
ivory spoons would be placed in front, together with the brooms, dustpan
of walnut wood inlaid with silver, both patterns of the same materials,
and the kitchen utensils, _mangals_, and all other belongings of the
bride.
On Tuesday the bride is taken to the bath with great ceremony, the
expenses on this occasion being defrayed by the bridegroom. Before
leaving the bath the bride is led three times round the centre platform,
kisses hands all round, and goes out to be dressed. The clothes she wears
on this occasion must not belong to her.
On Wednesday, the bridegroom’s party of lady friends go in a body to
the home of the bride, preceded by the _Koulavouz_, who announces their
arrival with an air of great importance. Violent confusion ensues; the
mother, followed by her friends, descends the staircase. They form a
double row, each couple conducting a visitor between them, beginning
with the bridegroom’s mother, and proceed upstairs into apartments
specially reserved for the friends of the bridegroom, who do not mix with
the bride’s party on this occasion. When their veils and cloaks have
been removed they seat themselves round the room and partake of bitter
coffee and cigarettes, followed half an hour later by sweet coffee. The
bride is led into the room by two hanoums who have only been married
once, and kisses the hands of all present, beginning with her future
mother-in-law, and terminating with the youngest child in the room. She
is then seated on a chair near her _Kayn Validé_, who is allowed on this
occasion to take her by her side for a few minutes only, during which
masticated sugar is exchanged between them as a token of future harmony.
The bride is then taken away, excused by some insipid remarks on the
expiring rights of maternal possession over her.
The dancing girls and musicians are now called in and perform before the
company, receiving money from each person as they leave the room in order
to entertain the other party of guests. When the bridegroom’s friends
are about to leave they throw small coins over the head of the bride,
who is led down to the door for the purpose. The scramble that ensues
among the hawkers of sweets, fruits, etc., assembled in the court, the
children, the beggars, and innumerable parasites crowding houses during
the celebration of a wedding, is beyond description.
Before departure an invitation is given for the evening to take part in
the _Kena_, an entertainment more especially designed for the bride and
her maiden friends. When the company is assembled, tapers are handed to
each, and a procession formed, headed by the bride, and accompanied by
the dancing girls and music. They descend the staircase into the garden,
and wind among the flower-beds and groves of trees. The lights, the gay
dresses, flashing jewels, and floating hair of the girls, the bright
castanets, and the wild songs and weird music of the accompanyists,
combine to form a glimpse of fairy-land, or a dream of “The Thousand and
One Nights.”
The ceremony of the _Kena_ consists in the application of the henna
mixture, which is prepared towards morning. The bride, after being
divested of her wedding finery, enters the presence of her mother-in-law,
shading her eyes with her left arm, while she seats herself in the middle
of the room. A silk bath scarf is thrown over her outstretched right
hand, and is then thickly plastered over with the henna, upon which her
mother-in-law sticks a gold coin, her example being followed by the rest
of her company. This hand placed in a silk bag relieves the other in
covering her eyes, and the left hand is in its turn extended and gifted
in like manner by the bride’s mother and _her_ friends; the feet are
also stained with the henna. This is followed by the last dance, called
the _Sakusum_, performed by the _Chingis_, accompanied by a song and
gestures of the most unrestrained and immodest nature, terminating in
these dancers taking extraordinary positions before each guest, sometimes
even sitting on their knees to receive their reward, which consists of a
small gold coin, damped in the mouth, and deposited on their unblushing
foreheads. In these proceedings, the modesty and innocence of the young
girls present is never thought about.
The bride reposes long enough for the henna to impart its crimson dye,
but not to turn black, which would be considered a bad augury.
The only touching scene in the whole course of the wedding ceremonies,
the girding of the bride by her father, takes place in the presence of
her mother and sisters just before she leaves the home of her childhood.
The father enters the room appearing deeply affected, and sometimes even
joining his tears to the weeping of his wife and daughters. The bride,
also weeping, falls at his feet, kisses them, and kisses his hands, while
he presses her to his breast and girds her with the bridal girdle, giving
at the same time some good advice and his blessing.
In some district towns the bridegroom’s male friends arrive at dawn with
torches to take away the bride. She is not, however, seen by her husband
until evening, when he is taken to the mosque, and accompanied to the
door of his dwelling by the Imam. A short prayer is offered, the company
joining in the refrain of _Amin, Amin_, at the conclusion of which the
happy man is pushed into the house, a shower of blows falling on his
back; they then partake of sherbet standing, and disperse. The bridegroom
proceeding upstairs comes upon a bowl of water, which he upsets with his
foot, scattering the contents in all directions. The Koulavouz meets
and conducts him to the nuptial apartment, where the bride, shy and
trembling, awaits the introduction of the complete stranger, in whose
hands her destiny for good or for evil is now placed.
She rises as he enters and kisses his hand; her bridal veil removed by
the Koulavouz is spread on the floor and knelt on by the bridegroom,
who offers a solemn prayer, the bride all the time standing on its edge
behind him. The couple then sit side by side; the old lady approaching
their heads together while she shows them the reflection of their united
images in a mirror, and expresses her wishes for the continuation of
their present harmonious union.
Masticated sugar is exchanged between them as a token of the sweetness
that must henceforth flow from their lips. Coffee follows, after which
the Koulavouz retires till her services are again required for bringing
in the supper, which consists of sweets and eggs, meat being excluded on
the ground that to indulge in it on so solemn an occasion would lead to
future bickerings between them.
The supper hour depends upon the shyness, obstinacy, or good-will of the
bride, over whom her husband can have no control until he has succeeded
in making her respond to his questions. Brides are recommended by
experienced matrons to remain mute as long as possible, and the husband
is sometimes obliged to resort to a stratagem in order to accomplish
this. The anxiously looked-for speech is at once echoed by the relieved
husband by a knock on the wall, which is the signal for supper. This
partaken of, the bride is divested of her finery and the paint and
flowers washed off by the Koulavouz, and left to repose after the fatigue
and excitement of five successive days of festivity, still to be extended
for two days longer. On the morrow she is again decked in her wedding
apparel to receive the crowd of hanoums, invited and uninvited, that
flock to the house to gaze upon her.
I have said nothing about the bakhshish, or presents, for the reason
that the givers and receivers are legion; nor of the kind of amusement
resorted to during these days, since they consist principally in
feasting, drinking sherbet, smoking, and chatting, enlivened only by the
monotonous music and the spectacle of dancing girls. This part of the
entertainment is so disgusting to behold, and so repulsive to describe,
that the less I say about them the better; their immodesty can only be
matched by the obscene conversations held by the numerous parasites
specially introduced for the amusement of the company.
Entertainments of a similar nature take place at the same time in the
Selamliks of both houses.
At Constantinople the bride is taken on the Thursday morning from the
paternal roof, and conveyed in a carriage to her new home, followed by a
train of other carriages, preceded by music and surrounded by buffoons,
performing absurd mummeries for the amusement of the party, besides a
numerous company of unruly youths, some mounted and others on foot, most
of whom get intoxicated and noisy on the occasion. The bride is received
by her husband at the door; he offers his arm and conducts her upstairs
through the crowd of _hanoums_, who are not very careful about hiding
their faces, on the plea that the bridegroom being otherwise occupied
will not look at them. He leads his wife to the bower prepared for her,
but before taking her seat a scuffle ensues between them for precedence,
each trying to step upon the foot of the other, the successful person
being supposed to acquire the right of future supremacy.
A Turkish wedding, as shown by this description, in its frivolous forms
and the absence of the sanctity of a religious ordinance, fails to
impress one with the solemnity of the Christian rite. The whole ceremony
contains many ridiculous superstitions and much that is worse than absurd.
Polygamy was no invention of Mohammed’s: he found it already firmly
rooted in Arabia. To abolish it was an idea that could never have entered
his mind. We must only be grateful to him for having to some extent
set bounds to its evils. But those bounds are thoroughly inadequate.
Four wives and perfect facility of divorce are bad enough, without
reckoning the permission to keep as many concubines as a man pleases.
But the wretched necessities of polygamy and divorce are wrapped up
with the harem system. The latter absolutely demands the former; and
though cases of true love do exist in Turkey where a man resigns the
so-called pleasures of polygamy and of possessing odalisks; yet it may be
confidently asserted that until the harem system, and with it polygamy,
are finally abolished, the condition of Mohammedan women can never be
anything but degraded.
Interested marriages are often contracted by young Turks, to whom
ambition or gratitude recommends as partners some faded court beauties
called _Serailis_, or the ugly and deformed daughter of the patron
to whom they owe their position and upon whom they depend for future
promotion. The number of vizirs and pashas that have attained such high
rank solely through the interest and influence of their wives is very
great; a fact which, if better known by Europeans, would disabuse them of
the idea that a Turkish wife of every rank is the slave of her husband. I
have seen innumerable cases denoting the reverse. The fraternity of meek,
submissive, and hen-pecked husbands is, I suppose, like the gypsies,
to be found all over the world. Sultan Abdul-Medjid, on being informed
that his favorite wife had concealed one of her lovers in a cupboard,
had a scene with her, during which he received a sound box on the ear.
At last the tyranny of this much-loved beauty passed all endurance, and
the Sultan decided upon putting her away and sending her into exile.
His Grand Vizir Reshid Pasha, was charged with the task of visiting the
Sultana and enforcing upon her the Imperial order. She received him,
heard her fate unmoved, and, still confident in the supreme power she
possessed over her lord and master, quietly collared his Grand Vizir and
walked him out of the room.
O⸺ Pasha, in his young days, contracted a marriage of this kind with the
daughter of an influential minister. She was humpbacked, with a face so
distorted as to render a disinterested marriage hopeless. I made her
acquaintance at Uskup, as she passed through on her way to the interior
of Albania, where her husband had been appointed Governor-General. She
told me that she had made a great sacrifice in leaving her beautiful
_Yahli_ on the Bosphorus and undertaking a journey the perils and
hardships of which were nearly killing her, but that she thought it
her duty to be near her husband lest he, yielding to the temptation
occasioned by the absence of her surveillance, should form new ties that
might rob her of her rights. “Do you Franks,” she asked, “trust your
husbands out of your sight?”
A week after her departure, another fussy arrival of harems put Uskup
into commotion. On my inquiring whose they were, I was told that they
were the beautiful Circassian Odalisks of O⸺ Pasha, who were following
the steps of his wife, entirely unknown to her. On arriving at their
destination I learnt that they had been carefully smuggled by their
owner into a house which he visited under the pretext of the long
_teptil_, or night watches, he had to make in the town in order to see
that all was right among his unruly Arnaouts. It is true the story
cuts two ways: it not only shows that the husband dared not be openly
unfaithful to his wife, but also that her suspicious surveillance was
entirely ineffectual.