A REMINISCENCE OF THE EAST.
The breakfast-table assembled around it the three generations of men who
issued from the three subdivisions of the diligence, and presented that
motley and mixed assemblage of ranks, ages, and countries, which forms
so very amusing a part of a traveller's experience.
First came the "haute aristocratie" of the coupe, then the middle class
of the interieure, and lastly, the tiers etat of the rotonde, with its
melange of Jew money-lenders, under-officers and their wives, a Norman
nurse with a high cap and a red jupe; while, to close the procession, a
German student descended from the roof, with a beard, a blouse, and a
meerschaum. Of such materials was our party made up; and yet, differing
in all our objects and interests, we speedily amalgamated into a very
social state of intimacy, and chatted away over our breakfast with much
good humour and gaiety. Each person of the number seeming pleased at the
momentary opportunity of finding a new listener, save my tall companion
of the coupe. He preserved a dogged silence, unbroken by even a chance
expression to the waiter, who observed his wants and supplied them by a
species of quick instinct, evidently acquired by practice. As I could
not help feeling somewhat interested about the hermit-like attachment he
evinced for solitude, I watched him narrowly for some time, and at length
as the "roti" made its appearance before him, after he had helped himself
and tasted it, he caught my eye fixed upon him, and looking at me
intently for a few seconds, he seemed to be satisfied in some passing
doubt he laboured under, as he said with a most peculiar shake of the
head--"No mangez, no mangez cela."
"Ah," said I, detecting in my friend's French his English origin, "you
are an Englishman I find."
"The devil a doubt of it, darlin'," said he half testily.
"An Irishman, too--still better," said I.
"Why then isn't it strange that my French always shows me to be English,
and my English proves me Irish? It's lucky for me there's no going
farther any how."
Delighted to have thus fallen upon a "character," as the Irishman
evidently appeared, I moved my chair towards his; and finding, however,
he was not half pleased at the manner in which my acquaintance had been
made with him, and knowing his country's susceptibility of being taken by
a story, I resolved to make my advances by narrating a circumstance which
had once befallen me in my early life.
Our countrymen, English and Irish, travel so much now a days, that one
ought never to feel surprised at finding them anywhere. The instance I
am about to relate will verify to a certain extent the fact, by showing
that no situation is too odd or too unlikely to be within the verge of
calculation.
When the 10th foot, to which I then belonged, were at Corfu, I obtained
with three other officers a short leave of absence, to make a hurried
tour of the Morea, and taking a passing glance at Constantinople--in
those days much less frequently visited by travellers than at present.
After rambling pleasantly about for some weeks, we were about to return,
when we determined that before sailing we should accept an invitation
some officers of the "Dwarf" frigate, then stationed there, had given us,
to pass a day at Pera, and pic-nic in the mountain.
One fine bright morning was therefore selected--a most appetizing little
dinner being carefully packed up--we set out, a party of fourteen, upon
our excursion.
The weather was glorious, and the scene far finer than any of us had
anticipated--the view from the mountain extending over the entire city,
gorgeous in the rich colouring of its domes and minarets; while, at one
side, the golden horn was visible, crowded with ships of every nation,
and, at the other, a glimpse might be had of the sea of Marmora, blue and
tranquil as it lay beneath. The broad bosom of the Bosphorus was sheeted
out like a map before us--peaceful yet bustling with life and animation.
Here lay the union-jack of old England, floating beside the lilies of
France--we speak of times when lilies were and barricades were not--the
tall and taper spars of a Yankee frigate towering above the low timbers
and heavy hull of a Dutch schooner--the gilded poop and curved galleries
of a Turkish three-decker, anchored beside the raking mast and curved
deck of a suspicious looking craft, whose red-capped and dark-visaged
crew needed not the naked creese at their sides to bespeak them Malays.
The whole was redolent of life, and teeming with food for one's fancy to
conjure from.
While we were debating upon the choice of a spot for our luncheon, which
should command the chief points of view within our reach, one of the
party came to inform us that he had just discovered the very thing we
were in search of. It was a small kiosk, built upon a projecting rock
that looked down upon the Bosphorus and the city, and had evidently, from
the extended views it presented, been selected as the spot to build upon.
The building itself was a small octagon, open on every side, and
presenting a series of prospects, land and seaward, of the most varied
and magnificent kind.
Seeing no one near, nor any trace of habitation, we resolved to avail
ourselves of the good taste of the founder; and spreading out the
contents of our hampers, proceeded to discuss a most excellent cold
dinner. When the good things had disappeared, and the wine began to
circulate, one of the party observed that we should not think of enjoying
ourselves before we had filled a bumper to the brim, to the health of our
good king, whose birth-day it chanced to be. Our homeward thoughts and
loyalty uniting, we filled our glasses, and gave so hearty a "hip, hip,
hurra," to our toast, that I doubt if the echoes of those old rocks ever
heard the equal of it.
Scarcely was the last cheer dying away in the distance, when the door of
the kiosk opened, and a negro dressed in white muslin appeared, his arms
and ancles bearing those huge rings of massive gold, which only persons
of rank distinguish their servants by.
After a most profound obeisance to the party, he explained in very
tolerable French, that his master the Effendi, Ben Mustapha Al Halak, at
whose charge (in house rent) we were then resting, sent us greetings, and
begged that if not considered as contrary to our usages, &c. we should
permit him and his suite to approach the kiosk and observe us at our
meal.
Independent of his politeness in the mode of conveying the request, as he
would prove fully as entertaining a sight to us as we could possibly be
to him, we immediately expressed our great willingness to receive his
visit, coupled with a half hint that perhaps he might honour us by
joining the party.
After a half hour's delay, the door was once more thrown open, and a
venerable old Turk entered: he salaamed three times most reverently, and
motioned to us to be seated, declining, at the same time, by a gentle
gesture of his hand, our invitation. He was followed by a train of six
persons, all splendidly attired, and attesting, by their costume and
manner, the rank and importance of their chief. Conceiving that his
visit had but one object--to observe our convivial customs--we
immediately reseated ourselves, and filled our glasses.
As one after another the officers of the effendi's household passed
round the apartments, we offered them a goblet of champagne, which they
severally declined, with a polite but solemn smile--all except one, a
large, savage-looking Turk, with a most ferocious scowl, and the largest
black beard I ever beheld. He did not content himself with a mute
refusal of our offer, but stopping suddenly, he raised up his hands above
his head, and muttered some words in Turkish, which one of the party
informed us was a very satisfactory recommendation of the whole company
to Satan for their heretic abomination.
The procession moved slowly round the room, and when it reached the door
again retired, each member of it salaaming three times as they had done
on entering. Scarcely had they gone, when we burst into a loud fit of
laughter at the savage-looking fellow who thought proper to excommunicate
us, and were about to discuss his more than common appearance of disgust
at our proceedings, when again the door opened, and a turbaned head
peeped in, but so altered were the features, that although seen but the
moment before, we could hardly believe them the same. The dark
complexion--the long and bushy beard were there--but instead of the
sleepy and solemn character of the oriental, with heavy eye and closed
lip, there was a droll, half-devilry in the look, and partly open mouth,
that made a most laughable contrast with the head-dress. He looked
stealthily around him for an instant, as if to see that all was right,
and then, with an accent and expression I shall never forget, said, "I'll
taste your wine, gentleman, an it be pleasing to ye."