The Harem of Mustafa Effendi—The Ladies of the
Harem—Etiquettical Observances of the Harem—Ceremonies of the
Salemliek—Jealousy of Precedence among the Turkish
Women—Apartment of the Effendi—Eastern Passion for
Diamonds—Personal Appearance of Mustafa Effendi—The little
Slave-girl—Slavery in Turkey—Gallant Present—The
Dinner—Turkish Cookery—Illuminated Mosques—The
_Bokshaliks_—The Toilet after the Bath—History of an
_Odalique_—Stupid Husbands—Reciprocal Commiseration—Errors
of a Modern French Traveller—Privacy of the Women’s
Apartments—Anecdote of the Wife of the Kïara Bey—The Baïram
_Bokshalik_—My Sleeping-room—Forethought of Turkish
Hospitality—Farewell to Fatma Hanoum—Dense Crowd—Turkish
Mob—Turkish Officers—Military Difficulty—The “Lower
Orders”—Tolerance of the Orientals towards
Foreigners—Satisfactory Expedient.
On the eve of the Baïram which terminates the Ramazan, we passed over to
Constantinople with some friends to visit Mustafa Effendi, the Egyptian
Chargé d’Affaires, whose magnificent mansion is situated near the gate
of the Seraglio. Having passed the portal, we found ourselves in a
spacious and covered court, having on our right hand a marble fountain,
into whose capacious basin the water fell murmuringly from a group of
lion’s heads; and, beyond it, the entrance to the women’s apartments,
with the conventuallooking wheel, by means of which food is introduced
into the harem; and on our left a stately staircase leading to the main
body of the building. Here our party were compelled to separate; the
gentlemen put off their boots, and followed the two black slaves who
awaited them, to the suite of rooms occupied by the master of the house,
while my companion and myself were consigned to the guidance of a third
attendant, who beat upon the door of the harem, and we entered a large
hall paved with marble, and were immediately surrounded by half a dozen
female slaves, who took our shoes, shawls, and bonnets, and led us over
the fine Indian matting of the centre saloon, to the richly-furnished
apartment of the lady of the house.
A soft twilight reigned in the room, of which all the curtains were
closely drawn to exclude the sun; and the wife of the minister and her
daughter-in-law were seated at the tandour, engaged in conversation with
several of their attendants, who stood before them in a half circle,
with their arms folded upon their breasts. The elder lady was the most
high-bred person whom I had yet seen in the country; the younger one was
pale and delicate, with eyes like jet, and a very sweet and gentle
expression; she spoke but seldom, and always in monosyllables, being
evidently overawed by the presence of her companion.
There are probably few nations in the world that observe with such
severity as the Turks that domestic precedence and etiquette, which,
while it may certainly prevent any disrespectful familiarity, has a
tendency to annihilate all ease. Thus, the other ladies of the family
are each inferior to the first wife, who takes the upper seat on the
sofa, and regulates all the internal economy of the women’s apartments:
and, although they may be greatly preferred by the husband, they are,
nevertheless, bound to obey her commands, and to treat her with the
respect due to a superior. In the Salemliek, when she is desired by her
lord to be seated, (without which gracious intimation she must continue
standing before him), she is privileged to place herself on the same
sofa, but on its extreme edge, and at a considerable distance; while the
other ladies are only permitted to fold their feet under them on a
cushion spread upon the carpet, and thence look up to the great and
gracious ruler of their destinies! The ceremonies of the Salemliek are
neither forgotten nor neglected in the harem, and it is customary for
all the slaves to bend down and kiss the hem of their mistress’s garment
on her first appearance in the morning.
These heart-shutting observances cannot fail to heighten the jealousy
which their relative position must naturally excite in the bosoms of
the other inmates of the harem, although such a circumstance as
rebellion against the supreme power is never heard of, nor imagined.
During the day we were summoned to the apartment of the minister;
whither, as the invitation was not extended to his wife, we went,
accompanied only by three or four black slaves. After traversing several
long galleries and halls, covered so closely with matting that not a
footfall could be heard, we passed under the tapestry-hanging that
veiled the door of the Effendi’s apartment, and found ourselves in an
atmosphere so heavy with perfume that for a moment it was almost
suffocating.
The venerable Chargé d’Affaires, who had been long an invalid, was
sitting upon his sofa, surrounded by cushions of every possible size and
shape, wrapped in furs, and inhaling the odour of a bunch of musk
lemons, the most sickly and sating of all savours—a magnificent mangal,
upheaped with fire, occupied the centre of the apartment; the divan was
almost covered with inlaid boxes, articles of bijouterie, books, and
papers; a large silver tray resting upon a tripod was piled
pyramidically with fine winter fruits; and within a recess on one side
of the room were ranged a splendid coffee service of French porcelain,
and a pair of tall and exquisitely-wrought essence-vases of fillagreed
silver—in short, the whole aspect of the apartment would have
satisfied the most boudoir-loving _petite-maitresse_ of Paris or London.
Near the mangal stood the four attendants of the master of the house,
two fine boys of twelve or fourteen years of age, and two pretty little
girls, one or two years younger, gorgeously dressed, and wearing
magnificent brilliant ornaments on their heads and bosoms.
The rage for diamonds is excessive among both the Turks and the Greeks;
but, while the Greek ladies delight in heaping upon their persons every
ornament for which they can find space, many of the fair Osmanlis, with
a pretty exclusive scorn of adventitious attraction, content themselves
with a clasp or two, a bracelet, or some similar bagatelle; and decorate
their favourite slaves with their more costly and ponderous jewels.
A most venerable-looking person was Mustafa Effendi, with his lofty
turban, and his snow-white beard; and he received us so kindly, and
discoursed with us so good-humouredly, that I was delighted with him. A
chair was brought for the Greek lady who had accompanied me, but he
motioned to me to place myself on a pile of cushions at his side, where
I remained very comfortably during the whole of our visit. He took a
great quantity of snuff from a box whose lid was richly set with
precious stones; and, on my admiring it, showed me another containing
his opium pills, which was exquisitely inlaid with fine large
brilliants.
My attention being attracted to the rosy, happy-looking little
slave-girl who stood near me, with her chubby arms crossed before her,
her large pink trowsers completely concealing her naked feet, and her
long blue antery richly trimmed with yellow floss-silk fringe, lying
upon the carpet; he beckoned her to him, called her a good child, who
had wit enough to anticipate his wants, and affection enough to supply
them without bidding, and bade me remark the henna with which the tips
of her toes and fingers were deeply tinged. She was, he said, a
Georgian, whom he had purchased of her mother for six thousand piastres;
she had already been in his house two years; and he hoped some day to
give her a marriage portion, and to see her comfortably established, as
she was a good girl, and he was much attached to her. The other, he
added, was also obedient and willing, but she did not possess the
vivacity and quickness of his little favourite—she had cost him seven
thousand piastres, as she was a year older, and considerably stronger
than her companion; and was a Circassian, brought to Constantinople, and
sold, at her own request, by her parents.
When I remembered that these children were slaves, I felt inclined to
pity them—when the very price which had been paid for them was stated
to me, a sickness crept over my heart—but, as I looked upon the pleased
and happy countenances of the two little girls, and remembered that
slavery, in Turkey at least, is a mere name, and in nine cases out of
ten even voluntary, I felt that here my commiseration would be
misplaced.
Soon after we had taken leave of the gentle and gracious old Effendi, a
basket of delicious fruit was sent into the harem for our use, with an
injunction that we should dine alone, lest we should be inconvenienced
by the national habits. An embroidered carpet was consequently spread,
beside which were placed a couple of cushions; and the dinner tray, such
as I have before described it, was lifted into the apartment of the
younger lady, at her earnest request: nine slaves, forming a line from
the table to the door, waited upon us: and we partook of an endless
variety of boiled, stewed, roasted, and baked—delicious cinnamon
soup—chickens, farcied with fine herbs and olives—anchovy
cakes—lemon-tinted pillauf—chopped meat and spiced rice, rolled in
preserved vine-leaves-the most delicate of pastry, and the most costly
of conserves. Many-coloured sherbets, and lemonade, completed the
repast; and when I laid aside my gold-embroidered napkin, and wiped the
rose-water from my hands, I could but marvel at the hyper-fastidiousness
of those travellers who have affected to quarrel with the Turkish
kitchen; or infer that they had only “assisted” at the tables of hotels
and eating-houses.
From the windows of the apartment, we had an excellent view, when the
evening had closed in, of the illuminated mosques of the city, and the
lines of light that hung like threads of fire from minaret to minaret.
The casements quivered beneath the shock of the rattling cannon; and all
the sounds which came to us from without spoke of festivity and
rejoicing; and, meanwhile, we were a happy party within. Fatma Hanoum
smoked her pipe, and overlooked the distribution of the _bokshaliks_
that her daughter was preparing for the morrow—every member of the
household, on the occasion of the Baïram, being entitled to a present,
more or less valuable according to their deserts, the length and
difficulty of their services, or the degree of favour in which they are
held.
We, meanwhile, amused ourselves with watching the slaves, who, having
left the bath, had seated themselves in groups at the lower end of the
apartment, combing, tressing, and banding their dark, glossy hair; the
younger ones forming it into one long, thick plait, hanging down the
centre of the back, and twisting above it the painted handkerchief, so
popular in the harem that it is worn equally by the Sultana and the
slave; the others binding their tresses tightly about their heads, and
replacing the locks which they hid from view with a profusion of false
hair, braided in twenty or thirty little plaits, and reaching round the
whole width of the shoulders.
All were busily engaged in preparing for the festival of the morrow,
though many of them were aware that they should not leave the harem; it
was sufficient that it _was_ a festival, an excitement, a topic of
conversation, something, in short, to engross their thoughts; and no
belle ever prepared for a birthday with more alacrity than did the
females of the harem of Mustafa Effendi, black and white, for the
Baïram.
In the course of the evening, the Bayuk Hanoum was summoned to her
husband, and then the timid wife of her son joined us at the tandour,
and related to us the little history of her life, which, although by no
means remarkable in Turkey, is so characteristic, and will, moreover,
appear so extraordinary to European readers, that I shall give it, as
nearly as my memory will serve me, in her own words.
“I am but nineteen,” she said, “a Circassian by birth, and was brought
by my parents to Constantinople, and sold, at the age of nine years, to
a friend of Fatma Hanoum’s. I was very happy, for she was kind to me,
and I thought to pass my life in her harem; but about a year ago I
accompanied her hither on a visit to the wife of Mustafa Effendi, at a
moment when her son was beside her. I was one of four; and I do not yet
understand why nor how I attracted his attention as I stood beside my
companions; but a few days afterwards my mistress called me to her, and
asked me if I had remarked the young Ismaël Bey when we had visited his
mother. I told her that I had seen him; and she then informed me that
the Hanoum desired to purchase me, in obedience to his wish; and
demanded of me if I was willing to accede to the arrangement. Of course,
I consented, and the Bey, having considered me as agreeable when I had
withdrawn my _yashmac_ as he had anticipated, he purchased me for ten
thousand piastres, and I became an inmate of the harem of Mustafa
Effendi—I am still happy,” she added plaintively, “very happy, for I am
sure he loves me; but I nevertheless hope to be more so; for ere long I
shall be a mother, and should my child prove to be a boy, from his
_Odalique_ I may perhaps become his wife.”
I pitied the poor young creature as I listened to her narrative, through
the medium of my companion, who spoke the Turkish language fluently; and
I breathed a silent prayer that her visions of happiness might be
realized. She was not pretty; but she was so childlike, so graceful, and
so gentle, that she inspired an interest which, when I had heard her
story, was even painful; nor was the feeling lessened by an
introduction to her husband, who, during the evening, sent to desire
that all the women, save his mother and wife, should retire, as he
intended to visit the harem; doubtlessly as much to satisfy his
curiosity, as to exhibit his courtesy, by paying his respects to the
European guests of his mother. Sallow and sickly-looking, inanimate,
even for a Turk, and apparently _bête comme une bûche_, he seated
himself, and listened to the conversation that was going forward, with
one unvaried and inexpressive smile—
Pleased, he knew not why, and cared not wherefore;
dividing his admiration between the Frank ladies, and the brilliancy of
a large diamond that he wore on his finger.
How comparative is happiness! I never lay my head upon my pillow, but I
am grateful to Providence that I was not born in Turkey; while the fair
Osmanlis in their turn pity the Frank women with a depth of sentiment
almost ludicrous. They can imagine no slavery comparable with our’s—we
take so much trouble to attain such slight ends—we run about from
country to country, to see sights which we must regret when we leave
them—we are so blent with all the anxieties and cares of our male
relations—we expose ourselves to danger, and brave difficulties suited
only to men—we have to contend with such trials and temptations, from
our constant contact with the opposite sex—in short, they regard us
as slaves, buying our comparative liberty at a price so mighty, that
they are unable to estimate its extent—and then, the hardship of
wearing our faces uncovered, and exposing them to the sun and wind, when
we might veil them comfortably with a _yashmac_! Not a day passes in
which they have commerce with a Frank, but they return thanks to Allah
that they are not European women!
A modern French traveller, whose amusing work has, in one moderate
volume, contrived to treat of about a dozen countries and localities;
and to detail, respecting each, such a mass of fallacies as assuredly
were never before collected together: informs his readers that the
jealousies of the harem are carried to such a pitch as to entail poison,
or, at the least, humiliating and severe labour on the victim of the
disappointed rival! This assertion, like many others in which he has
indulged, would be comic were it not wicked—for the very arrangements
of the harem render it impossible: each lady has her private apartment,
which, should she desire to remain secluded, no one has the privilege to
invade; and, from the moment that she becomes a member of the family,
her life, should she so will it, is one of the most monotonous idleness.
The very slaves, as I believe I have elsewhere remarked, are so numerous
in every handsome establishment, that three-fourths of their time is
unemployed; and as, in the less distinguished ranks, no Turk indulges
in the expensive luxury of a second wife, there is little opportunity
afforded for female tyranny.
The Kiära Bey, or Minister of the Interior, despite his exalted station
and his immense wealth, has declined to avail himself of his polygamical
privilege; and, although his wife is both plain and elderly, she has
such a supreme hold, if not upon his heart, at least upon his actions,
that, a short time since, having discovered that her lord had suddenly
become more than necessarily attentive to a fair Circassian, her own
peculiar favourite, whom she had reared from a child, and whose beauty
was of no ordinary character, she very quietly placed her in an araba,
sent her to the slave-market, and disposed of her to the highest bidder.
The ingratitude of the _protégée_ had loosened her hold on the
affections of her patroness; nor did the husband venture to utter a
reproach to his outraged helpmate, when he discovered the absence of the
too-fascinating Circassian.
Had the unhappy girl been the _Odalique_ of the lord, instead of the
slave of the lady, the evil would have been irremediable, however; as in
that case, the Bayuk Hanoum would have possessed no power to displace
her.
Early in the morning, the stately Fatma Hanoum presented to my companion
and myself a _bokshalik_ from the venerable Effendi, which consisted of
the material for a dress, neatly folded in a handkerchief of clear
muslin, fringed with gold-coloured silk; and, as I made my hasty
toilette, in the hope of witnessing the procession of the Baïram, and
seeing Mahmoud “the Powerful” in all the splendour of his greatness, I
glanced with considerable interest round the apartment in which I had
passed the night. In the domed recess, which I soon discovered to be
common to every handsome Turkish apartment, stood a French clock, that
“discoursed,” if not “eloquent,” at least fairy-like, music—a piece of
furniture, by the way, universally popular among the natives of the
East, who usually have one or more in every room occupied by the
family—two noble porcelain vases—a china plate containing an enamelled
snuff-box, and a carved ebony chaplet—and a tray on which were placed
cut crystal goblets of water, covered glass bowls filled with delicate
conserves, a silver caïque, whose oars were small spoons, and a
beautifully worked wicker basket, shaped like a dish, and upheaped with
crystallized fruits, sparkling beneath a veil of pale pink gauze,
knotted together with bunches of artificial flowers.
Turkish hospitality and _prévoyance_ provide even for the refreshment of
a sleepless night!
The divan was of flesh-coloured satin, and the carpet as delicately
wrought and patterned as a cachemire shawl. The cushions which had been
piled about my bed were of velvet, satin, and embroidered muslin, and
the coverlets, of rich Broussa silk, powdered with silver leaves.
I made my libations with perfumed water—swallowed my coffee from a
china cup so minute that a fairy might have drained it—tied on my
bonnet—an object of unvarying amusement to the Turkish ladies, who
consider this stiff head-dress as one of the most frightful and
ridiculous of European inventions—and bade adieu to Fatma Hanoum and
her dark-eyed daughter, with a regret which their unbounded courtesy and
kindness were well calculated to inspire.
A wealthy Armenian diamond-merchant, who held a high situation in the
Mint, had offered us a window, whence we might witness the whole
ceremony of the Imperial procession, and towards this point we bent our
steps. But, alas for our curiosity! our leave-taking had been so
thoughtlessly prolonged, that the subjects of his Sublime Highness had
blocked up every avenue bearing upon the point by which he was to pass;
and, despite all the efforts of our European cavaliers and native
attendants, to proceed was impossible. We accordingly took up our
station a little apart from the crowd, in order to contemplate at our
ease the novel and picturesque spectacle of a Turkish mob.
In the distance rose the gigantic dome and arrowy minarets of Saint
Sophia; and beneath them, far as the eye could reach, stretched a sea of
capped and turbaned heads, heaving and sinking like billows after a
storm. Every house-roof, every mouldering wall, every heap of rubbish,
was covered with eager spectators; while the windows of the surrounding
dwellings were crowded with veiled women and laughing children.
What groups were wedged together in the narrow space immediately before
us! The pale, bent, submissive-looking Jew was folding his greasy mantle
closer about him, as he elbowed aside the green-turbaned Emir, and the
grave and solemn Hadje who had knelt beside the grave of the Prophet:
the bustling Frank was striding along, jostling alike the serious
Armenian, whose furred and flowing habit formed a strange contrast to
the short blue jacket and tight pantaloons of the tall, strong-limbed,
Circassian—and the bustling and noisy Greek, whose shrill voice and
vociferous utterance would have suited a woman—parties of Turkish
officers were forcing a passage as best they could, with their caps
pulled down upon their eyebrows, their sword-belts hanging at least a
quarter of a yard below their waists, and their diamond stars, (the
symbols of their military rank) glittering in the clear
sunshine—patroles of Turkish soldiers were endeavouring in vain to
clear a passage along the centre of the street for the convenience of
the Sultanas, and the wives of the different Pashas, whose arabas were
momently expected; the mob closing rapidly in their rear as they slowly
moved on—and clouds of doves at intervals filled the air, the tenants
of the giant mosque before us, scared from the usual quiet of their
resting-places by the unwonted stir and excitement beneath them.
As the birds which domesticate themselves about the mosques are held
sacred, and regarded with almost superstitious reverence, their numbers
necessarily increase to a wonderful extent; and on this occasion they
hovered round the stupendous edifice of Saint Sophia, to the amount of
several thousands.
A strange military difficulty had been started a short time previously
to the occasion of the Baïram, which had been overcome in so
extraordinary and even humorous a manner, that it deserves especial
mention; and it was to convince myself of the actual existence of the
laughable custom engendered by Turkish jealousy, that I remained longer
than I should have otherwise been induced to do, in the immediate
vicinity of a Constantinopolitan mob. Be it, however, avowed, _en
passant_, that the—what shall I call them? for our European term of
“lower orders” is by no means applicable to a people who acknowledge no
difference of rank—no aristocracy save that of office—the great mass
of the population of the capital—assimilate on no one point with our
own turbulent, vociferous, uncompromising, and unaccommodating mobs in
Europe. Among above five thousand boatmen, artisans, and soldiers, not a
blow was struck, not a voice was raised in menace—among the conflicting
interests, feelings, and prejudices, of Christians, Musselmauns, and
Jews, not a word was uttered calculated to excite angry or unpleasant
feeling; while I am bound to confess that a female, however fastidious,
would have found less to offend her amid the crush and confusion of that
mighty mass of commonly called semi-civilized human beings, than in a
walk of ten minutes through the streets of London or Paris.
The natives of the East have yet to learn that there can be either wit
or amusement in annoying others for the mere sake of creating annoyance;
that there can be humour in raising a blush on the cheek of the timid,
or calling a pang to the heart of the innocent. They are utilitarians;
to torment for the mere love of mischief they do not comprehend; and
they, consequently, never attempt extraneous evil unless to secure, or
at least to strive for, some immediate personal benefit. Thus no rude
or impertinent comment is made upon the Frank stranger, and above all,
upon the Frank woman, whose habits, manners, and costume, differ so
widely, and, doubtlessly to them so absurdly, from those of their own
country; while towards each other they are as staid, as solemn, and as
courteous, as though each were jealous to preserve the good order of the
community, and considered it as his individual concern.
To revert to the military ceremony, from which, in order to render
justice to the Turkish population, I have unavoidably digressed; I shall
mention, without further preface, that it arose from the reluctance of
the Sultan and his ministers, that the troops, in presenting arms to the
female members of the Imperial family, should have the opportunity
afforded them of a momentary gaze at their veiled and sacred
countenances. The difficulty was, how to retain the “pomp and
circumstance” of the ceremonial, and at the same time to render this
passing privilege impossible. A most original and satisfactory expedient
was at length fortunately discovered; and we were lucky enough to
witness the effect of the new arrangement.
The slow and noisy rattle of the arabas was heard—the word was passed
along the line that the Sultanas were approaching—and suddenly the
troops faced about, with their backs to the open space along which the
princesses were expected, and, extending their arms to their full
length, the manœuvre was performed behind them, producing the most
extraordinary and ludicrous scene that was perhaps ever enacted by a
body of soldiers! In this uncomfortable, and I should also imagine
difficult, position, they remained until the four carriages had passed,
when they resumed their original order, and stood leaning negligently on
their muskets until the return of the Imperial _cortège_.
George Cruikshank would have immortalized himself had he been by to note
it!