to my shoes, and conceal the legs more modestly than your petticoats.
They are of a thin rose-coloured damask, brocaded with silver
flowers. My shoes are of white kid leather, embroidered with gold.
Over this hangs my smock, of a fine white silk gauze, edged with
embroidery. This smock has wide sleeves hanging half way down the
arm, and is closed at the neck with a diamond button; but the shape
and colour of the bosom is very well to be distinguished through
it.--The _antery_ is a waistcoat, made close to the shape, of white
and gold damask, with very long sleeves falling back, and fringed
with deep gold fringe, and should have diamond or pearl buttons. My
_caftan_, of the same stuff with my drawers, is a robe exactly fitted
to my shape, and reaching to my feet, with very long strait falling
sleeves. Over this is my girdle, of about four fingers broad, which,
all that can afford it, have entirely of diamonds or other precious
stones; those who will not be at that expence, have it of exquisite
embroidery on sattin (sic); but it must be fastened before with a
clasp of diamonds.--The _curdee_ is a loose robe they throw off, or
put on, according to the weather, being of a rich brocade (mine is
green and gold) either lined with ermine or sables; the sleeves reach
very little below the shoulders. The head dress is composed of a
cap, called _talpock_, which is, in winter, of fine velvet
embroidered with pearls or diamonds, and in summer, of a light
shining silver stuff. This is fixed on one side of the head, hanging
a little way down with a gold tassel, and bound on, either with a
circle of diamonds (as I have seen several) or a rich embroidered
handkerchief. On the other side of the head, the hair is laid flat;
and here the ladies are at liberty to shew their fancies; some
putting flowers, others a plume of heron's feathers, and, in short,
what they please; but the most general fashion is a large _bouquet_
of jewels, made like natural flowers; that is, the buds, of pearl;
the roses, of different coloured rubies: the jessamines, of diamonds;
the jonquils, of topazes, &c. so well set and enamelled, 'tis hard to
imagine any thing of that kind so beautiful. The hair hangs at its
full length behind, divided into tresses braided with pearl or
ribbon, which is always in great quantity. I never saw in my life so
many fine heads of hair. In one lady's, I have counted a hundred and
ten of the tresses, all natural; but it must be owned, that every
kind of beauty is more common here than with us. 'Tis surprising to
see a young woman that is not very handsome. They have naturally the
most beautiful complexion in the world, and generally large black
eyes. I can assure you with great truth, that the court of England
(though I believe it the fairest in Christendom) does not contain so
many beauties as are under our protection here. They generally shape
their eye-brows, and both Greeks and Turks have the custom of putting
round their eyes a black tincture, that, at a distance, or by
candle-light, adds very much to the blackness of them. I fancy many
of our ladies would be overjoyed to know this secret, but 'tis too
visible by day. They dye their nails a rose colour; but, I own, I
cannot enough accustom myself to this fashion, to find any beauty in
it.
AS to their morality or good conduct, I can say, like Harlequin, that
'tis just as 'tis with you; and the Turkish ladies don't commit one
sin the less for not being Christians. Now, that I am a little
acquainted with their ways, I cannot forbear admiring, either the
exemplary discretion, or extreme stupidity of all the writers that
have given accounts of them. 'Tis very easy to see, they have in
reality more liberty than we have. No woman, of what rank soever, is
permitted to go into the streets without two _murlins_, one that
covers her face all but her eyes, and another, that hides the whole
dress of her head, and hangs half way down her back. Their shapes
are also wholely (sic) concealed, by a thing they call a _serigee_,
which no woman of any sort appears without; this has strait sleeves,
that reach to their fingers-ends, and it laps all round them, not
unlike a riding-hood. In winter, 'tis of cloth; and in summer, of
plain stuff or silk. You may guess then, how effectually this
disguises them, so that there is no distinguishing the great lady
from her slave. 'Tis impossible for the most jealous husband to know
his wife, when he meets her; and no man dare touch or follow a woman
in the street.
THIS perpetual masquerade gives them entire liberty of following
their inclinations, without danger of discovery. The most usual
method of intrigue, is, to send an appointment to the lover to meet
the lady at a Jew's shop, which are as notoriously convenient as our
Indian-houses; and yet, even those who don't make use of them, do not
scruple to go to buy pennyworths, and tumble over rich goods, which
are chiefly to be found amongst that sort of people. The great
ladies seldom let their gallants know who they are; and 'tis so
difficult to find it out, that they can very seldom guess at her
name, whom they have corresponded with for above half a year
together. You may easily imagine the number of faithful wives very
small in a country where they have nothing to fear from a lover's
indiscretion, since we see so many have the courage to expose
themselves to that in this world, and all the threatened punishment
of the next, which is never preached to the Turkish damsels. Neither
have they much to apprehend from the resentment of their husbands;
those ladies that are rich, having all their money in their own
hands. Upon the whole, I look upon the Turkish women, as the only
free people in the empire; the very divan pays respect to them; and
the grand signior himself, when a bassa is executed, never violates
the privileges of the _haram_, (or womens apartment) which remains
unsearched and entire to the widow. They are queens of their slaves,
whom the husband has no permission so much as to look upon, except it
be an old woman or two that his lady chuses. 'Tis true, their law
permits them four wives; but there is no instance of a man of quality
that makes use of this liberty, or of a woman of rank that would
suffer it. When a husband happens to be inconstant, (as those things
will happen) he keeps his mistress in a house apart, and visits her
as privately as he can, just as it is with you. Amongst all the
great men here, I only know the _testerdar_, (i.e. a treasurer) that
keeps a number of she slaves, for his own use, (that is, on his own
side of the house; for a slave once given to serve a lady, is
entirely at her disposal) and he is spoke of as a libertine, or what
we should call a rake, and his wife won't see him, though she
continues to live in his house. Thus you see, dear sister, the
manners of mankind do not differ so Widely, as our voyage-writers
would make us believe. Perhaps, it would be more entertaining to add
a few surprising customs of my own invention; but nothing seems to me
so agreeable as truth, and I believe nothing so acceptable to you. I
conclude therefore with repeating the great truth of my being,
Dear sister, &c.
LET. XXX.
TO MR POPE.
_Adrianople, April_ 1. O. S. 1717.
I DARE say you expect, at least, something very new in this letter,
after I have gone a journey, not undertaken by any Christian for some
hundred years. The most remarkable accident that happened to me, was
my being very near overturned into the Hebrus; and, if I had much
regard for the glories that one's name enjoys after death, I should
certainly be sorry for having missed the romantic conclusion of
swimming down the same river in which the musical head of Orpheus
repeated verses so many ages since:
"_Caput a cervice revulsum,
"Gurgite cum medio, portans Oeagrius Hebrus,
"Volveret, Eurydicen vox ipsa, et frigida lingua,
"Ah! miseram Eurydicen! anima fugiente vocabat,
"Eurydicen toto referebant flumine ripae_"
Who knows but some of your bright wits might have found it a subject
affording many poetical turns, and have told the world, in an heroic
elegy, that,
_As equal were our souls, so equal were our fates?_
I despair of ever hearing so many fine things said of me, as so
extraordinary a death would have given occasion for.
I AM at this present moment writing in a house situated on the banks
of the Hebrus, which runs under my chamber window. My garden is full
of all cypress trees, upon the branches of which several couple of
true turtles are saying soft things to one another from morning till
night. How naturally do _boughs_ and _vows_ come into my mind, at
this minute? and must not you confess, to my praise, that 'tis more
than an ordinary discretion that can resist the wicked suggestions of
poetry, in a place where truth, for once, furnishes all the ideas of
pastoral. The summer is already far advanced in this part of the
world; and, for some miles round Adrianople, the whole ground is laid
out in gardens, and the banks of the rivers are set with rows of
fruit-trees, under which all the most considerable Turks divert
themselves every evening, not with walking, that is not one of their
pleasures; but a set party of them chuse out a green spot, where the
shade is very thick, and, there they spread a carpet, on which they
sit drinking their coffee, and are generally attended by some slave
with a fine voice, or that plays on some instrument. Every twenty
paces you may see one of these little companies listening to the
dashing of the river; and this taste is so universal, that the very
gardeners are not without it. I have often seen them and their
children sitting on the banks of the river, and playing on a rural
instrument, perfectly answering the description of the ancient
_fistula_, being composed of unequal reeds, with a simple, but
agreeable softness in the sound.
MR ADDISON might here make the experiment he speaks of in his travels;
there not being one instrument Of music among the Greek or Roman
statues, that is not to be found in the hands of the people of this
country. The young lads generally divert themselves with making
garlands for their favourite lambs, which I have often seen painted
and adorned with flowers, lying at their feet, while they sung or
played. It is not that they ever read romances, but these are the
ancient amusements here, and as natural to them as cudgel-playing and
foot-ball to our British swains; the softness and warmth of the
climate forbidding all rough exercises, which were never so much as
heard of amongst them, and naturally inspiring a laziness and
aversion to labour, which the great plenty indulges. These gardeners
are the only happy race of country people in Turkey. They furnish
all the city with fruits and herbs, and seem to live very easily.
They are most of them Greeks, and have little houses in the midst of
their gardens, where their wives and daughters take a liberty, not
permitted in the town, I mean, to go unveiled. These wenches are
very neat and handsome, and pass their time at their looms, under the
shade of the trees.
I No longer look upon Theocritus as a romantic writer; he has only
given a plain image of the way of life amongst the peasants of his
country; who, before oppression had reduced them to want, were, I
suppose, all employed as the better sort of them are now. I don't
doubt, had he been born a Briton, but his _Idyliums_ had been filled
with descriptions of threshing and churning, both which are unknown
here, the corn being all trode (sic) out by oxen; and butter (I speak
it with sorrow) unheard of.
I READ over your Homer here, with an infinite pleasure, and find
several little passages explained, that I did not before entirely
comprehend the beauty of; many of the customs, and much Of the dress
then in fashion, being yet retained. I don't wonder to find more
remains here, of an age so distant, than is to be found in any other
country, the Turks not taking that pains to introduce their own
manners, as has been generally practised by other nations, that
imagine themselves more polite. It would be too tedious to you, to
point out all the passages that relate to present customs. But, I
can assure you, that the princesses and great ladies pass their time
at their looms, embroidering veils and robes, surrounded by their
maids, which are always very numerous, in the same manner as we find
Andromache and Helen described. The description of the belt of
Menelaus, exactly resembles those that are now worn by the great men,
fastened before with broad golden clasps, and embroidered round with
rich work. The snowy veil that Helen throws over her face, is still
fashionable; and I never see half a dozen of old bashaws (as I do
very often) with their reverend beards, sitting basking in the sun,
but I recollect good king Priam and his counsellors. Their manner of
dancing is certainly the same that Diana is _sung_ (sic) to have
danced on the banks of Eurotas. The great lady still leads the
dance, and is followed by a troop of young girls, who imitate her
steps, and, if she sings, make up the chorus. The tunes are
extremely gay and lively, yet with something in them wonderfully
soft. The steps are varied according to the pleasure of her that
leads the dance, but always in exact time, and infinitely more
agreeable than any of our dances, at least in my opinion. I
sometimes make one in the train, but am not skilful enough to lead;
these are the Grecian dances, the Turkish being very different.
I SHOULD have told you, in the first place, that the Eastern manners
give a great light into many scripture-passages, that appear
odd to us, their phrases being commonly what we should call
scripture-language. The vulgar Turk is very different from what is
spoke at court, or amongst the people of figure; who always mix so
much Arabic and Persian in their discourse, that it may very well be
called another language. And 'tis as ridiculous to make use of the
expressions commonly used, in speaking to a great man or lady, as it
would be to speak broad Yorkshire, or Somersetshire, in the drawing
room. Besides this distinction, they have what they call the
_sublime_, that is, a style proper for poetry, and which is the exact
scripture style. I believe you will be pleased to see a genuine
example of this; and I am very glad I have it in my power to satisfy
your curiosity, by sending you a faithful copy of the verses that
Ibrahim Bassa, the reigning favourite, has made for the young
princess, his contracted wife, whom he is not yet permitted to visit
without witnesses, though she is gone home to his house. He is a man
of wit and learning; and whether or no he is capable of writing good
verse, you may be sure, that, on such an occasion, he would not want
the assistance of the best poets in the empire. Thus the verses may
be looked upon as a sample of their finest poetry; and I don't doubt
you'll be of my mind, that it is most wonderfully resembling _The
song of Solomon_, which was also addressed to a royal bride.
TURKISH VERSES addressed to the _Sultana_, eldest daughter of SULTAN
ACHMET III.
STANZA I.
Ver.
1. _THE nightingale now wanders in the vines:
Her passion is to seek roses._
2. _I went down to admire the beauty of the vines:
The sweetness of your charms has ravished my soul._
3. _Your eyes are black and lovely,
But wild and disdainful as those of a stag._
STANZA II.
1. _The wished possession is delayed from day to day;
The cruel Sultan ACHMET will not permit me
To see those cheeks, more vermilion than roses._
2. _I dare not snatch one of your kisses;
The sweetness of your charms has ravished my soul._
3. _Your eyes are black and lovely,
But wild and disdainful as those of a stag._
STANZA III
1. _The wretched_ IBRAHIM _sighs in these verses:
One dart from your eyes has pierc'd thro' my heart._
2. _Ah! when will the hour of possession arrive?
Must I yet wait a long time?
The sweetness of your charms has ravished my soul._
3. _Ah!_ SULTANA! _stag-ey'd--an angel amongst angels!
I desire,--and, my desire remains unsatisfied.--Can
you take delight to prey upon my heart?_
STANZA IV
1. _My cries pierce the heavens!
My eyes are without sleep!
Turn to me,_ SULTANA--_let me gaze on thy beauty._
2. _Adieu--I go down to the grave.
If you call me--I return.
My heart is--hot as sulphur;--sigh, and it will flame._
3. _Crown of my life! fair light of my eyes!
My_ SULTANA! _my princess!
I rub my face against the earth; I am drown'd in scalding tears--
I rave!
Have you no compassion? Will you not turn to look upon me?_
I have taken abundance of pains to get these verses in a literal
translation; and if you were acquainted with my interpreters, I might
spare myself the trouble of assuring you, that they have received no
poetical touches from their hands. In my opinion (allowing for the
inevitable faults of a prose translation into a language so very
different) there is a good deal of beauty in them. The epithet of
_stag-ey'd_ (though the sound is not very agreeable in English)
pleases me extremely; and I think it a very lively image of the fire
and indifference in his mistress's eyes.--Monsieur Boileau has very
justly observed, that we are never to judge of the elevation of an
expression in an ancient author, by the sound it carries with us;
since it may be extremely fine with them, when, at the same time, it
appears low or uncouth to us. You are so well acquainted with Homer,
you cannot but have observed the same thing, and you must have the
same indulgence for all Oriental poetry. The repetitions at the end
of the two first stanzas are meant for a sort of chorus, and are
agreeable to the ancient manner of writing. The music of the verses
apparently changes in the third stanza, where the burden is altered;
and I think he very artfully, seems more passionate at the
conclusion, as 'tis natural for people to warm themselves by their
own discourse, especially on a subject in which one is deeply
concerned; 'tis certainly far more touching than our modern custom of
concluding a song of passion with a turn which is inconsistent with
it. The first verse is a description of the season of the year; all
the country now being full of nightingales, whole amours with roses,
is an Arabian fable, as well known here as any part of Ovid amongst
us, and is much the same as if an English poem should begin, by
saying,--"_Now Philomela sings_." Or what if I turned the whole into
the style of English poetry, to see how it would look?
STANZA I.
"NOW Philomel renews her tender strain,
"Indulging all the night her pleasing pain;
"I sought in groves to hear the wanton sing,
"There saw a face more beauteous than the spring.
"Your large stag-eyes, where thousand glories play,
"As bright, as lively, but as wild as they.
STANZA II.
"In vain I'm promis'd such a heav'nly prize,
"Ah! cruel SULTAN! who delay'st my joys!
"While piercing charms transfix my am'rous heart,
"I dare not snatch one kiss to ease the smart.
"Those eyes! like, &c.
STANZA III.
"Your wretched lover in these lines complains;
"From those dear beauties rise his killing pains.
"When will the hour of wish'd-for bliss arrive?
"Must I wait longer?--Can I wait and live?
"Ah! bright Sultana! maid divinely fair!
"Can you, unpitying, see the pains I bear?
STANZA IV.
"The heavens relenting, hear my piercing cries,
"I loathe the light, and sleep forsakes my eyes;
"Turn thee, Sultana, ere thy lover dies:
"Sinking to earth, I fight the last adieu,
"Call me, my goddess, and my life renew.
"My queen! my angel! my fond heart's desire!
"I rave--my bosom burns with heav'nly fire!
"Pity that passion, which thy charms inspire."
I have taken the liberty, in the second verse, of following what I
suppose the true sense of the author, though not literally expressed.
By his saying, _He went down to admire the beauty of the vines, and
her charms ravished his soul_, I understand a poetical fiction, of
having first seen her in a garden, where he was admiring the beauty
of the spring. But I could not forbear retaining the comparison of
her eyes with those of a stag, though perhaps the novelty of it may
give it a burlesque sound in our language. I cannot determine upon
the whole, how well I have succeeded in the translation, neither do I
think our English proper to express such violence of passion, which
is very seldom felt amongst us. We want also those compound words
which are very frequent and strong in the Turkish language.
YOU see I am pretty far gone in Oriental learning; and, to say truth,
I study very hard. I wish my studies may give me an occasion of
entertaining your curiosity, which will be the utmost advantage hoped
for from them, by, Your's, &c.
LET. XXXI.
TO MRS S. C.
_Adrianople, April_ 1. O. S.
IN my opinion, dear S. I ought rather to quarrel with you, for not
answering my Nimeguen letter of August, till December, than to excuse
my not writing again till now. I am sure there is on my side a very
good excuse for silence, having gone such tiresome land-journies
(sic), though I don't find the conclusion of them so bad as you seem
to imagine. I am very easy here, and not in the solitude you fancy
me. The great number of Greeks, French, English, and Italians that
are under our protection, make their court to me from morning till
night; and, I'll assure you, are, many of them, very fine ladies; for
there is no possibility for a Christian to live easily under this
government, but by the protection of an ambassador--and the richer
they are, the greater is their danger.
THOSE dreadful stories you have heard of the _plague_, have very
little foundation in truth. I own, I have much ado to reconcile
myself to the sound of a word, which has always given me such
terrible ideas; though I am convinced there is little more in it,
than in a fever. As a proof of this, let me tell you that we passed
through two or three towns most violently infected. In the very next
house where we lay, (in one of those places) two persons died of it.
Luckily for me I was so well deceived, that I knew nothing of the
matter; and I was made believe, that our second cook had only a great
cold. However, we left our doctor to take care of him, and yesterday
they both arrived here in good health; and I am now let into the
secret, that he has had the _plague_. There are many that escape it,
neither is the air ever infected. I am persuaded, that it would be
as easy a matter to root it out here, as out of Italy and France; but
it does so little mischief, they are not very solicitous about it,
and are content to suffer this distemper, instead of our variety,
which they are utterly unacquainted with.
_A propos_ of distempers, I am going to tell you a thing that will
make you wish yourself here. The small-pox, so fatal, and so general
amongst us, is here entirely harmless, by the invention of
_ingrafting_, which is the term they give it. There is a set of old
women, who make it their business to perform the operation, every
autumn, in the month of September, when the great heat is abated.
People send to one another to know if any of their family has a mind
to have the small-pox: they make parties for this purpose, and when
they are met (commonly fifteen or sixteen together) the old woman
comes with a nutshell full of the matter of the best sort of
small-pox, and asks what vein you please to have opened. She
immediately rips open that you offer to her, with a large needle,
(which gives you no more pain than a common scratch) and puts into
the vein as much matter as can ly upon the head of her needle, and
after that, binds up the little wound with a hollow bit of shell; and
in this manner opens four or five veins. The Grecians have commonly
the superstition of opening one in the middle of the forehead, one in
each arm, and one on the breast, to mark the sign of the cross; but
this has a very ill effect, all these wounds leaving little scars,
and is not done by those that are not superstitious, who chuse to
have them in the legs, or that part of the arm that is concealed.
The children or young patients play together all the rest of the day,
and are in perfect health to the eighth. Then the fever begins to
seize them, and they keep their beds two days, very seldom three.
They have very rarely above twenty or thirty in their faces, which
never mark; and in eight days time they are as well as before their
illness. Where they are wounded, there remain running sores during
the distemper, which I don't doubt is a great relief to it. Every
year thousands undergo this operation; and the French ambassador says
pleasantly, that they take the small-pox here by way of diversion, as
they take the waters in other countries. There is no example of any
one that has died in it; and you may believe I am well satisfied of
the safety of this experiment, since I intend to try it on my dear
little son. I am patriot enough to take pains to bring this useful
invention into fashion in England; and I should not fail to write to
some of our doctors very particularly about it, if I knew any one of
them that I thought had virtue enough to destroy such a considerable
branch of their revenue, for the good of mankind. But that distemper
is too beneficial to them, not to expose to all their resentment the
hardy wight (sic) that should undertake to put an end to it.
Perhaps, if I live to return, I may, however, have courage to war
with them. Upon this occasion, admire the heroism in the heart of
Your friend, &c. &c.
LET. XXXII.
TO MRS T----.
_Adrianople, April_ 1. O. S. 1718 (sic).