HOWLING DERVISHES.
There is an intoxication in the very motions of the whirling dervishes, but the horrible ceremonies of the Rifayees are really distressing to the beholder.
A long, empty hall, much like that of the Inquisition, as its walls are adorned by an infinite variety of instruments of torture, constitutes their temple of worship.
The fanatical disciples of this sect assemble every Thursday at their Tekké, which is in Scutari, and after the performance of the usual ritual of the Mussulmans, commence their ceremonies by ranging themselves along the three sides of the apartment and within the balustrade, which serves to separate them from the spectators.
Their sheikh takes his stand before the Mihrab facing the assembly, and three or four of the members furnishing themselves with instruments of music place themselves in the centre of the hall.
The performance then begins, by a monotonous chant, accompanied with music, and the waving of their heads to and fro, which seems to create a sympathetic vertigo in the Mussulman bystanders—for they often are irresistibly drawn into the ranks.
By degrees, the motion increases, the chant grows louder, and their countenances become livid, and their lungs seem to expand with the noise and excitement.
The line becomes a solid phalanx as they place their arms on each other’s shoulders, and withdrawing a step, suddenly advance with a tremendous and savage yell, Allah—Allah—Allah—hoo! which divine appellative is to be repeated a thousand times uninterruptedly.
This strenuous effort renders them perfectly hideous, their very eyes seem ready to start from their sockets, and their lips foam as the inspiration possesses them. Thus retreating and springing forward, they, each time, with increasing energy, renew their invocations of Allah, Allah, Allah, hoo! until the distinctness of their articulation is lost, and their exclamation becomes, in reality a complete howl, as if proceeding from a pack of enraged dogs—thus meriting the sobriquet of the “Howling Dervishes.”
The movements and cries increase in swiftness until a mist of dust pervades the dim apartment, and the wild and pale enthusiasts, drenched with perspiration, seem like fantastic demons in the realms of discord. Suddenly some of them, stripped to their waists, rush forward and seizing the poignards and stilettoes, commence a wild, infuriated dance, jumping, leaping, and lacerating themselves—fixing the weapons into the hollow of their cheeks, and twisting them round and round, as if on pivots, until, exhausted from exertion, they fall to the ground in a spasmodic fit.
“Only to show with how small pain,
The sores of faith are cured again,”
Now the enthusiastic mothers approach, and cast their children before the presiding sheikh, who, as they lie extended before him, deliberately plants his heavy feet upon their frail bodies, and so stands for some seconds. Old men and maidens, lay themselves low before this saint, who is supposed to be by this time so inspired as to have a miraculous power of expressing all ailments and maladies from the human frame, and to have become so etherealized by the ecstatic ceremonies as to lose all his specific gravity.
The Abdals include the various classes of the stoics, who generally pretend to a total renunciation of all worldly comforts. Sometimes clothed in the coarsest garments, and again half naked, and even with lacerated bodies, they wander through the Mohammedan dominions, a miserable set of frantic, idle, and conceited beggars. They may, in fact, be considered the “communists” of the East, who despising honest pursuits, live upon the community at large.
They commit the worst extravagances under the pretence of heavenly raptures, and are even supposed to be divinely inspired. Idiots and fools are esteemed by the Mohammedans as the favorites of Heaven; their spirits are supposed to have deserted their earthly tenements, and to be holding converse with angels, while their bodies still wander about the earth.
It would be wearisome to go into further details; for infinite is the diversity of the orthodox theologies of the Mohammedans, with the 235 articles of the creed, on which all the doctors of divinity differ; hopeless must be the task of the student to surmount the commentaries of the 280 canonical authors, not to mention the innumerable heretical tenets of other sects, which must be studied to be controverted.
Verily we would suggest the recipe of a certain Molla, who must have given up in dire despair, “Whenever you meet with an infidel, abuse him with all your might, and no one will doubt you are a staunch believer.”
As long as war and its exciting scenes occupied the restless minds of the Arabs, there was no time for religious or party intrigue. The simple “La Illah-Illallah,” satisfied the momentary breathings of their souls heavenward.
The turmoil of their life, the glitter of their arms and dreadful carnage of all infidels, sufficed to ease their fancy, and satisfy the thirst for excitement.
It was as they wiped their blood-stained scimitars, and during the reaction which comparative peace and luxury created, that their minds, free from more substantial food and activity, sought greater refinement of spirituality.
In the absence of the real, the speculative began to grow, until Imams and Ulema found that they could turn the tide of human affairs to their own advantage, by exciting polemical and theological controversies.
A comparative study of the niceties of Mussulman doctrine, and hair-breadth distinctions with those of more refined and enlightened creeds, while it displays many and striking similarities, only illustrates, with startling vividness, the time worn maxim, that “there is nothing new under the sun.”
CHAPTER V.
DIN OR PRACTICE OF RELIGION.
The Din, or Practice of Religion, comprises ablution, prayer, alms, fasting, and a pilgrimage to Mecca.
Ablution.—Bathing, and various forms of ablutions, were practised long before the time of Mohammed; but he has incorporated cleanliness with his religion, until his followers seem to regard water as not only possessed of virtue to cleanse the pollutions of their bodies, but as purifying their souls from the contamination of sin. Therefore, fountains are always to be found in the neighborhood of all the mosques, in every part of the city and its suburbs, and on the highways—for they never omit this preliminary to their devotions, which includes washing the face, hands, and feet; and when they happen to be in the desert, where no water can be obtained, sand is substituted. Indeed, the same ablutions are so essential, that their observance is invariably required of the faithful, before the administration of an oath.
Prayers. Five times a day the Mussulmans are summoned to prayer by the muezzin.
Early in the morning, just before the sun is above the horizon, the ezan resounds through the still atmosphere, from the airy balcony of the tapering Minaré.
The Muezzin, covering his ears with his hands, as if to exclude all terrestrial sound, turns his face towards Mecca, and chants with musical cadence, the beautiful Arabic formula. “Allah, ikber! Allah ikber! &c, great God! great God! there is no God, but God! I attest that Mohammed is the apostle of God! Oh, Great Redeemer! Oh! Ruler of the universe! great God! great God! there is no God but God!” and he slowly moves round the balcony, as if addressing the inhabitants of all parts of the world.
Those who catch the echoes of the holy call, exclaim with solemn earnestness, “There is no power, no strength but in God Almighty.”
Again, when the hour of noon seems to indicate a moment of repose to the work-day world, the ezan summons all thoughts and aspirations to the great God. At three o’clock in the afternoon, at sunset, and finally at nine o’clock, the call resounds ere they prepare for sleep.
How beautiful thus to note the passage of time, to look thus from earth to heaven, to forget for a moment all worldly cares, and breathe out a soul aspiration towards a better land.
Those who happen to be near a mosque, enter it for the purpose of performing their devotions; others are in their own houses; and many prostrate themselves by the wayside; or even on board the daily steamers. The mosques are always open, and there is an Imam who presides over the devotions.
The interior of a mosque, is as simple as that of any Protestant church. The only ornaments seen are the suspended lamps, interspersed here and there with ostrich eggs. There are no accommodations for sitting down, and the altar is the niche or mihrab. There is a small pulpit on one side, from which a sermon is preached every Friday noon; but the form of prayer is always the same.
As they assemble, they leave their shoes at the door, “for the ground is holy,” and seat themselves upon the floor, which is either covered with carpet or matting.
At the appointed time, the Imam commences the service, by taking his position before the mihrab; and placing his thumbs behind his ears, as if with his open palms to shut out all objects of sense, proclaims to the assembly, “Allah-ikber! Allah-ikber!” The congregation rise and imitate the officiating priest. All remain standing with their hands folded on their bosoms, while the Imam repeats the first chapter of the Koran—which is the Lord’s Prayer of the Mohammedans, termed Fatiha.
“In the name of the most merciful God; praise be to God, the Lord of all creatures; the most merciful; the King of the day of judgment; thee do we worship, and of thee do we beg assistance; direct us in the right way, in the way of those to whom thou hast been gracious; not of those against whom them art incensed, nor of those who go astray. Amen.”
They then make a semi-genuflexion, by placing the hands on the knees, and bending the person forward. A complete genuflexion succeeds, which is made by bending the knees to the ground, and extending the arms forward as a support to the body, while the forehead touches the ground.
These same genuflexions are again repeated; then partially rising they sit on their bended knees. Here endeth the first lesson, for two other similar ceremonies are repeated successively, during which any portion of the Koran may be selected by the officiating Imam for recitation.
The termination of the service is known when the Imam, after a few moments of silent meditation, slowly turns his head, first towards the right and then to the left, in token of salutation to the two recording angels who are supposed to be hovering over each shoulder. He then strokes his beard, and rises from his devotions. His example is followed by the congregation, who immediately disperse.
There is a wonderful air of sacred stillness during the services in a mosque. The simplest and plainest attire is worn, and everything excluded which could divert the attention from God and his worship.
No man utters prayers as matters of form, while he stares about to see how his neighbors’ clothes are fashioned. No sound of footsteps or creaking boots is heard, nor opening or shutting of pews. No cushioned seats invite to listlessness, or even to slumbers; no ennui steals over their devotional spirits; the world is literally and practically excluded. No earthly houris tempt their thoughts from God, with alluring smiles and recognitions; there is no peeping from behind the prayer books, or fluttering fans, or any other of the insinuating wiles of coquetry.
Ladies with their sweet eyes turned to heaven, while their rosy lips are modeled to scorn of their neighbor’s want of taste and fashion, are invisible in the Mohammedan temple.
Here the faithful come to worship God, and they wisely divest the shrine of their devotions of all the trappings of earthly grandeur, and leave beyond the portal the alluring and sensual pleasures of earth. The presence of Infidels during the hours of worship is expressly forbidden, not only as being a source of mental distraction to the faithful, but in reality an act of perjury on their own part. “It is not fitting that the idolaters should visit the temples of God, being witnesses against their own souls of their infidelity. The works of these men are vain, and they shall remain in hell-fire forever. But he only shall visit the temples of God, who believeth in God and the last day, and is constant at prayer, and payeth legal alms, and feareth God alone.”
Alms.—The essence of Islamism, resignation to the will of God, has its legitimate effect upon the benevolence of the Mohammedans. If Allah bestows wealth and luxury, they receive and enjoy the good gifts, but without any self-gratulation. If misfortune arrive, they submit without any feeling of degradation, practically illustrating the words of Job, “Shall we receive good at the hand of the Lord and not evil?”
The faithful are enjoined to be constant in prayer and give alms. “Contribute out of your substance towards the religion of God, and throw not yourselves into perdition. Do good, for God loveth those who do good; unto such of you as believe and bestow alms, shall be given a great reward,” and whoever pays not his legal contribution of alms duly, it is declared by Mohammed, that he shall have a serpent twisted about his neck at the resurrection; so that the Mussulmans have every incentive to charity, both as regards this life and that which is to come.
It is very common for them to found charitable institutions, such as poorhouses, hospitals, etc., and the same principles of charity induce them to an unlimited hospitality.
During the feast of Ramazan, a special table is set for the poor, in the houses of the wealthy, who come and partake without summons or invitation. The innumerable beggars and mendicant dervishes in Turkey, are doubtless tolerated from the same spirit of liberality.
As the Koran is but a compilation from Jewish and Christian writers, adapted to the spirit of the age in which it was promulgated, no doubt the difficult but sublime doctrine of Christ, “Let not thy right hand know what thy left hand doeth,” was appreciated by the Prophet in his directions regarding the exercise of the grace of charity: “God loveth not the proud or vainglorious, nor those who bestow their wealth in charity, to be observed of men.” “Verily God will not wrong any one, even the weight of an ant, and if it be a good action, He will double it, and will recompense it in his sight with a great reward.” Their charities are, therefore, bestowed with the greatest modesty and willingness, their supplications for aid from others made without any air of servility.
It devolves, then, upon modern civilization to establish corporate and organized charitable bodies in Turkey, and to initiate the simple Mussulmans into the self satisfaction which is awakened by public meetings, and the parade of printed records.
Fasting.—We live to eat, or we eat to live—therefore when we are denied the great business and aim of life, we undergo a very palpable kind of mortification. The dainty epicurean seldom conforms to any regulations for extra abstemiousness, while others, more superstitious, merely vary the hours of their repast—merging the substantial meal into those which have not the nomenclature, but yet become the reality of a good dinner. Again, the pleasant variety of fish for fowl, or of oil for butter, does not leave any sensation of emptiness, or mortification of the appetite. But there is a sort of genuineness in the Mohammedan style of observing a fast—when, for fourteen consecutive hours, absolutely nothing passes the lips—not a drop of water, not even the homemade saliva is swallowed—no hunger-easing pipe is smoked, nor anything indulged in to palliate the gnawings of hunger and thirst. The laborer toils under a summer sun—the weary hammal climbs the towering hills under an incredible load—the athletic boatman for many hours pulls the oars; work, toil, labor cease not, but the wonted sustenance is utterly withheld.
It is wonderful to see this part of the Mussulman population during the fasting season—bodily strength and vigor exuding in profuse perspiration from every pore, while steady persistence in utter abstinence from all refreshment is persevered in.
This great monthly fast occurs once in every year—
“The month of Ramazan shall ye fast, in which the Koran was sent down.”
As they observe the lunar year, it falls in all seasons—and when it occurs during the dog-days, the sufferings of the faithful are truly great and distressing. Not only are they forbidden all lusts of the belly and the flesh, such as may be committed by the eye, ear, tongue, hand, feet and other members, but the heart must be abstracted as much as possible from the world, and turned only to God and paradise—thus, a season of holy rest is instituted.
Among the many idlers who can afford to loiter away the day, some assume an appearance of unusual sanctimoniousness, whose peculiarly long faces and abstracted airs, most effectually ward off any attempts to recall them to the realities of life.
They listlessly toy with their chaplets, gazing into vacancy as polished bead after bead slips through their fingers, and seemingly are as divested of thought, as the unmeaning, but apparently, absorbing playthings they ever dangle. These beads have no such significance as the Catholic rosaries, but are always in the hand of the Oriental gentlemen and ladies, and are often of great value, being composed of large pearls and other precious gems, though the ordinary style is to make them of cocoa shells, whale teeth, ivory or amber.
During this fast the faithful are at the gate of religion, and the very odor of their breath is considered to be sweeter than musk to the olfactories of Allah!
Some of them observe the fast in its true spirit and letter, and all externally conform to its regulations. No doubt to those who are incapable of religious ecstasies, who cannot transport themselves out of the world, while clogged with their human tenements, who relish not the unsubstantial viands of a superstitious faith, the hours drag very heavily on from sunrise to sunset.
Physical necessities sometimes force the less spiritualized to taste some of the forbidden fruits, or to avail themselves of this occasion to test the truth of the proverb, that “Stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant.”
The more faithful, in the midst of their sufferings remember that as Mohammed was, fortunately, of human mould like themselves, he informed them “God would make this an ease unto you and not a difficulty—therefore * * * * * God knoweth that ye defraud yourselves therein and forgiveth you, and now therefore * * * * * and earnestly desire that which God ordaineth you, and eat and drink until ye can plainly distinguish a white thread by the day-break, then keep the fast until night,” &c.
Thus the faithful acquire new zest for all their sensual appetites as they anxiously listen for the sunset Ezan, which releases them from their sufferings. The breaking of the fast is called Iftar. Each person is furnished with a small table, upon which are a bowl of light soup, a few olives, some preserves and cakes. A chibouk, already filled and ready to be lighted, is placed by their side. When the cannon booming over the Bosphorus, announces the setting sun, each one partakes sparingly of these refreshments, and having regaled himself with the fumes of tobacco, attends to his regular sunset prayers, after which a sumptuous dinner is served and enjoyed. The grand Namaz (prayer) is performed, after which night is turned into day. The streets, usually dark and sombre, are brightly illuminated and filled with people, Mussulmans, Armenians, Greeks, Jews, and other Giavours, who all seem anxious to enjoy the carnival, if not to share the penance. The slender and tapering minarés are now girdled in light, while between the consecrated spires, depend fantastic and luminous bodies, the brilliant but mimic forms of familiar objects. The kahvés are crowded with wearied Mussulmans, puffing out clouds of smoke, in pure spite for their long abstinence from their favorite weed, while their imaginations are regaled with the exciting tales of the Meddahs, or the drolleries of the far famed Kara-gueöz.
Stalls are erected with all the various preparations of food peculiarly agreeable to Turkish palates; tempting shops stand invitingly open, and tinkling music vibrates through the air. If Allah only is remembered in the day, night seems to exclude that divinity from every thought; while Eblis is apparently enthroned with all the orgies of his dominions.
Exhausted nature at length compels the laboring classes to seek their couches, while the more fortunate pashas and efendis, beguile the remaining hours till morn, with continued festivities and the exchange of social visits.
Just before daybreak, the drum resounds through the streets of the metropolis, when the faithful, without any reluctance, arise from their slumbers to avail themselves of their last chance of regaling their appetites and fortifying their corporeal frames against the sufferings of the next fourteen consecutive hours.
The morning gun, now booming upon the still air, re-echoed from hill to hill, proclaims the dawn of another day, of self mortification at the “gate of Heaven.”
CHAPTER VI.
PILGRIMAGE TO MECCA.
How true the observation that the most helpless of all creatures is man, born of a woman, who cometh forth like the tender bud of a delicate and fading flower.
The ever-living soul embarks on the vast ocean of life, in so frail and delicate a tenement, that there is no semblance of strength to resist the angry waves that continually dash against the tempest-tossed and quivering fabric.
But it outrides the storm of three score years and ten, until it is engulfed in the maelstrom and eddying circles of the river of Death. How vast, how exquisite are the sensibilities of man, whose first emotions of pleasure and pain, are the alphabet of humanity.
The pleasure felt by a sentient being, creates the first ideas of good, while on the other hand the sensation of pain is synonymous with evil. As we awake into existence, each passing moment seems to develop new desires; our grasping souls and bodily wants are constantly re-echoing each other’s cravings; unsatisfied human nature is ever on the alert, crying, give, give. This restless search for good, pleasure, or happiness, leads its victims astray, and thus is created the preponderance of evil; for such hot and eager haste stays not to discriminate. The fatal apple seemed so good and so much to be desired to the mother of all living, that she took, and ate; but when she had eaten her eyes were opened. Thus by such efforts to secure the good, the limit is overstepped, and suffering and sorrow entailed. Still, none enjoy, and none suffer in the same degree; innumerable have been the specimens of nature’s handiwork, yet never were any two individuals alike in their natural or intellectual structure.
There is a wonderful connection between the physical and the moral in our curious composition; and the latter is so much modified by the former, that the variety of temperaments and dispositions may be attributed to the reciprocal influences of these two constituents of our being. The origin of good and evil is then embodied in our own hearts, in the structure of the human frame, in our natural susceptibilities to pleasure and pain.
The individuality of pleasure and pain creates an approving and disapproving principle in every human frame, and each man is pleased with himself, when he enjoys a personal benefit from good or pleasure, and displeased when he suffers from the consequences of pain or evil. The lesson is soon learned that the evil might have been avoided, and conscience raises her silent testimony in the bosom. Apart from our own sensations, there seems to be a superstitious principle innate in the human breast, a deference to a supreme good, which as the Ruler and Creator of the universe, holds all created things in awe, and to whom the conscience or self-approving and self-condemning principle pays all deference.
This principle has existed under every form of humanity, in every variety of nation and blood, and has been educated, and developed by different circumstances.
Thus are derived all religions, and the fear of retribution for transgressing the bounds which conscience claims for the real good, and its essence the supreme Creator, has led men to various acts of atonement or self-recommendation.
The mind of man instinctively looked from “Nature up to Nature’s God,” and sought an embodiment for the Divine essence, as there was for the human.
The earliest semblance of Divinity was displayed in the sun, moon, and stars. The glorious orb of day, the great source of light and heat, the vivifier of all creation, whose genial rays warming the bosom of the mother earth, caused the tender grass to spring forth, and every herb yielding fruit, to give its increase for the sustenance of animal life, the great luminary of the vast universe, so beautiful to gaze upon, and so powerful in its sway over the world alotted to man for a dwelling-place, seemed as if placed in the heavens for the especial adoration of all created things.
The gentle moon with silver sheen, and softer radiance was fitting bride for the all glorious and omnipotent god of day. And the sparkling stars, like so many distant portals to the dominions of divine effulgence, emitting each a ray of the internal brightness, seemed one and all shrines of holy devotion.
Such was the revelation of nature; and no wonder that the innate impulse to revere and worship the Author of the universe, was kindled into a fire of enthusiasm by the scintillations of the starry world.
Not content with the semblance of the Creator in his works, the ever-working mind of man sought an object more tangible—and thus, doubtless originated the idol worship of the ancients. Then followed a succession of creeds and dogmas, rites and ceremonies, to which the superstitious principle was ever ready to yield obeisance.
Ambitious and designing men sought to embody in themselves the germs of sanctity and holiness—even did they add the sanction of intercourse with the gods; even did they awaken the silent marble into mysterious life, and utter oracles and decrees from the lifeless stone.
Thus was nurtured the superstitious feeling in the multitude, until the most absurd and revolting rites became the sole end, and aim of existence—until the simple Hindoo, would, with a holy zeal, cast himself under the wheels of the ponderous car of Juggernaut, and while his tortured body was crushed to atoms, rejoice with ecstatic faith in future felicity.
The same principle of superstitious self-torment has existed in as great force under the Christian dispensation.
Even kings and emperors have tried to stifle the voice of conscience by the most severe acts of penance and humiliation; and the humbler members of the human family have willingly suffered every variety of bodily anguish, which the most cunning devices of a wily and calculating priesthood could contrive, while from many and hidden motives, they have striven to produce an entire abnegation of self, and a renunciation of all worldly hopes in the sin-tormented hearts of their victims.
Wars were undertaken, territories were coveted, and a holy crusade was the pretext for taking possession of the city of Jerusalem, the shrine of the holy sepulchre, and where crowds of pilgrims brought their offerings and laid them in the coffers of the sanctuary.
The dangers which beset the pilgrims amid the scimitars of the barbarous Tartars, was the pretext for all Europe to rise in arms with the determination to conquer or die in their defence.
A wild enthusiast, with haggard features—a body worn and wasted with fasting and holy vigils, and enveloped in coarse and dusty sackcloth, elevating the symbolic cross in his attenuated fingers, wanders from palace to palace, from house to house, from hut to hamlet, calling aloud for vengeance upon the followers of the Crescent, who dared to molest the children of God in the performance of their sacred duties. As his naked feet, pierced by every flinty rock, leave their crimson stains in his track, so does the thirst for Moslem blood burn and consume the vitals of the restless human throngs, who listen to his wild harangues.
Pope Urban was ready to fan this flame, and the panting multitude were by his holy and supreme power absolved from the weight of all past offences as well as all those they should ever commit, if they would prosecute with zeal this holy war.
The worst of sinners, robbers and assassins, over whose hardened hearts there still lingered the dying glow of the internal fire of conscience, or before whose sin-distempered vision ever flittered the phantoms of past transgressions, rejoiced to say avaunt for ever, to the ghosts of their departed crimes, and feel an assurance of no future retribution for their dark deeds of horror. A new field for rapine and adventure opened before them, and they rushed impetuously on to the combat. Many, who had led a life of more retired wickedness and grown grey in sin were glad to seize a hope of salvation even on the borders of eternity, and tottered along with the vast concourse.
Rich and poor, young and old, with fervid zeal embraced the means of future happiness beyond the grave. And the vast territory through which these soldiers of the Cross wended their way was whitened with the bones of the self sacrificed.
Even after the great champion Godfrey de Bouillon, had gained the prize, and enjoyed a regal rank of one short year’s duration, he had to surrender his earthly throne to his holiness at Rome, and content himself like his followers with the hopes of a kingdom in the unseen world.
Vain would be the effort to count the victims of religious enthusiasm; of the attempts to appease the great unseen essence of human life; to propitiate the favor of that Power, which, as it has called into being, can also summon his creatures from their earthly tenements, and dispose of their spirits, as seemeth best to his sovereign will.
But holy wars, and sin-atoning pilgrimages, are not confined to the followers of the Cross.
Wherever the Cresent glitters on the dome, or the muezzin proclaims the ezan from the pointed minaré; wherever throughout the vast dominions of the Mussulmans, resounds the cry Allah Ikber! Allah Ikber! are the countless votaries of the religion of Mohammed, ready to arise from their peaceful homes, and perform the sacred journey to the shrine of their faith, the holy temple at Mecca. And year after year, do the pilgrims trace a wearisome way through desert plains and scorching heats, to the spot where they may roll off the burden of self-condemnation, and kiss the all-atoning stone, which has been the heirloom to mortality, since the foundation of the world.
Although throngs of Mussulman pilgrims yearly visit the holy city of Mecca, but few Europeans have left the impress of their footsteps upon its soil.
What millions of human beings, nothing intimidated by deserts, mountains, and all sorts of hardships, have paid their devotions to this shrine! The great have visited it with pomp, and all its train of luxury and display; the grasping spirit of trade, has summoned merchants from all parts of the East. The learned and wise, of times that were, and times that are, have on the same occasion, collecting the productions of genius, sought a mart for literature and renown. Sultanas, and ladies of high and noble rank, have changed their silken couches for wandering homes through the desert.
Old age has tottered thither staff in hand, and poverty has never failed to swell the concourse with its numberless train. The vast multitude, hundreds of thousands of every rank and profession, crying “La Illah! Il-Allah! Mohammed Ressoul Ullah!” every year people the silent wastes of sand with the buzz of human voices, as they toil along their weary way to the holy city of Mecca.
Every Mohammedan is enjoined to perform this pilgrimage, or if unable to go, to send a proxy, or an offering.
“Verily, the first house appointed unto men to worship in, was that which is in Mecca, blessed, and a direction to all creatures.”
For there was the Kubla, or point to which they were to turn their faces in prayer.
“And proclaim unto the people a solemn pilgrimage; let them come unto thee on foot, and on every lean camel, arriving from every distant road; that they may be witnesses of the advantages which accrue to them from the visiting this holy place, and may commemorate the name of God, on the appointed days, in gratitude for the brute cattle which he hath bestowed on them.”
According to the traditions of the Arabs, the city of Mecca has been the place of religious veneration, from the earliest times. Near this city, on a mountain, Adam is said to have met his wife Eve, two hundred years after the expulsion from Paradise.
Here when Abraham was ready to sacrifice his son Ishmael (not Isaac), the identical ram, which had been offered by Abel many years before, was substituted in his place, sent expressly from Paradise.
Here also, in the days of idolatry, was a temple dedicated to Saturn, now the holy temple of Mecca. So that Mohammed found this place already consecrated by sacred and ancient associations.
Mecca, the birth-place, and Medina, the tomb of the Prophet, are situated near each other; and not far from the coast of the Red Sea. Mecca is in a valley surrounded by barren hills, which produce nothing but the stones of which the houses are constructed. Water, so essential to life, and most especially to all Mussulmans, is only supplied by rain which is collected in cisterns; no streams flowing from the adjacent mountains. Doubtless, the exceeding value all Mohammedans attach to the pure element, is owing to its scarcity in these regions, where their religion was promulgated, and the Koran revealed from heaven. Their Paradise is represented as abounding in fountains.
There is “the water of Keafeeree, or camphor,” a fountain at which the people of God shall drink, so likened from the aromatic freshness of this gum, and its snowy whiteness. The waters of zengefeel or ginger, and the fountain of zelzebil, whose streams glide softly down the throat; and the fountain of Taz-nim, which flows from the highest regions of Paradise, and whereof those shall drink who approach the Divine presence.
Notwithstanding the barrenness of the soil and the unfavorable situation of the city of Mecca, the wealth of its inhabitants is very great.
Arabia Felix, truly happy in comparison to the barren and desert tracts by which she is surrounded, where the gentle zephyrs are perfumed and laden with aromatic odors, whose villages and towns are crowned with plenty, and adorned with gardens of delight, and trees bearing all kinds of fruit, “Araby the blest” pours her treasures into this holy city. Her gums and spices, olibanum, or frankincense, myrrh of many kinds, balsams, sugar canes, cocoa nuts, and the fragrant berry from Mocha. Nature rejoices in a perpetual spring, in this genial clime which neither chills nor scorches her spicy products.
In Mecca, congregate a vast crowd of Mussulmans with their merchandise from all quarters of the East, so that the inducement, held out by the Prophet, that “they may be witnesses of the advantages which accrue from visiting this holy place,” has no little power on the calculations of the enterprising, while a misguided religious zeal sways the multitude.
The holy temple of Mecca has been under the successive patronage of the caliphs, the sultans of Egypt and of Turkey, until by the constant acquisition of wealth, it has attained its present splendid magnificence.
No unbeliever can profane the sacred precincts with the dust of his feet, nor approach within gun shot of the consecrated portico, during the season of the visitation of the pilgrims. Nor must the Faithful defile their sinless bodies by any contact with the unsanctified flesh and blood of the infidel Jews and Christians.
“O true believers, verily the idolaters are unclean; let them not therefore come near unto the holy temple after this year.
“And if ye fear want, by the cutting off trade, and communication with them, God will enrich you of his abundance, if he pleaseth; for God is knowing and wise.”
“It is not fitting that the idolaters should visit the temples of God, being witnesses against their own souls of their infidelity.”
Considering the resources which have contributed to construct and adorn this shrine of the Mohammedan faith, the great wealth of many nations, and the centuries which have successively rolled on, each adding the superstitious offerings of religious votaries, it is no wonder that it is magnificent to behold. The model from Paradise, the rebuilding by Abram, and its preservation for so many years.
The whole city of Mecca is considered holy ground but the objects of special adoration are inclosed within a magnificent colonnade, the foundation of which was laid by the second caliph Omer, to prevent intrusion upon the sanctum sanctorum. The space inclosed by this portico is about seven statium. The foundations are broad and lofty, and approached by an extended flight of marble steps, on both sides, without and within. No less than four hundred and eighty-four columns support an arched entablature, which is crowned by a succession of domes, surmounted by glittering crescents. The colonnade is quadrangular, and in the four corners are minarés, raising their tapering spires to heaven, in emblem of the ascending orisons of the faithful, and from whose gilded galleries the sacred imams have, since unnumbered suns have risen and set, proclaimed the hours of adoration.
No gloomy darkness ever enshrouds this structure; for when day withdraws its more glaring brightness, innumerable lamps cast their fitful light around the pillars.
What tales could these marble columns whisper of human hopes, and even holier aspirations; of the wicked schemes of intriguing imams, as with sacerdotal robes and turbans of emerald hue, they traced their cautious way from pillar to pillar, and received and blessed the vast concourse of souls, borne down with the ills and sins of humanity. How honeyed their benedictions as they lay their gilded palms on the humble suppliant, who would gladly bestow all his earthly treasures for a sure hope of heaven where his joys would be enduring.
Poor weak mortals! tools of each other, and victims of the calculating; the deceiver and deceived, on the same journey, on the same race course, where the goal is Eternity!
Beneath these domes, and overshadowed by these tall minarés, the poet and the scholar have met to repeat the traditions and romances so peculiar to the glowing imaginations of the Oriental world, and to vie with each other for literary fame; the astrologer and diviner, no doubt the very genii and fairies of Arabian myth, have mingled in the throng.
With what emotion have the deluded victims of superstition and remorse prostrated themselves upon the hallowed ground, and with what ecstatic faith in the rewards of their holy pilgrimage, have the only true believers kissed the dust of the consecrated earth.
Within this beautiful portico, there is a vast space, in the middle of which stands the Caaba itself.
After Adam was driven from Paradise, he begged the Almighty to allow him to erect a Beit-el-maamur, or house of God, similar to the one he had seen there. Therefore the Caaba was let down to Mecca, directly under the Heavenly Temple. This was rebuilt after the deluge by Abram, or as some say, again descended from the celestial realms, where it had been preserved, and has been in the possession of the Ishmaelites, or Arabs, ever since.
The Caaba, or house of God, is a square building of stone, 24 cubits long, 23 broad and 27 high. It is nearly surrounded by a semicircular colonnade, at the base of which is a low balustrade.
Bars of silver, from which lamps are suspended, connect the pillars at the top.
How mystic and beautiful are the glimmerings of these lights, as they glisten on the dark night, in their silver lamps, casting uncertain shadows around the marble columns—their dubious shining conjuring up the shades of the Prophet and his honored descendants, all arrayed in jealous and sacred green to watch the devotions of the multitude, as they surround the shrine.
The outside of the Caaba is covered with rich black damask, which is renewed every year.
The holy imams, pitying the true and faithful, and wishing to ward off from them the dangers of sudden death, and the thousand other casualties of life, bestow a small portion of the covering of this house of God, which has imbibed the sanctity of three hundred and sixty-five days’ duration, and, therewith, the power to avert all such evils. A small amount of worldly wealth is sufficient to touch the heart of the holy Emir, who grants this precious charm, which, resting in the bosom of its happy possessor, yields to him a sweet repose from the anticipation of sudden trials which befall the less fortunate inheritors of human life.
Outside of this black damask is a band of gold which surrounds the Caaba, and whose lustre is undimmed by time, for it is renewed every year by the sultan of Turkey. The very rain which flows from the roof of this edifice, partakes of its sanctity, and is conducted therefrom by a spout of solid gold, whence it trickles down on the tomb of Ishmael, the head and founder of the Arab race.
Near the Caaba is the stone on which the patriarch Abraham stood, when he was rebuilding the holy temple; and even his very foot-prints are to be seen on the solid piece of rock, leaving no shadow of doubt as to its identity.
This ancient architect, unwilling to deface the walls by a scaffolding, when they were beyond his reach, stood upon this stone, which chance threw in his way; and, wonderful interposition of Allah! the stone raised him when necessary, let him down again, and transported him around his precious work, until the whole was finished!
What a treasure to architecture, more worthy of fame than the undiscovered stone of the philosopher; how carefully to be watched and guarded from the profanations of unbelieving house-builders for all time to come.
Upon the southeast corner of the Caaba is the black stone set in silver, which was dropped down from Paradise.
Like other gems of the heavenly sphere, it was originally white and shining—but alas! its brightness is dimmed, and even changed to perfect blackness, by its contact with human sin. For ever since its removal to this world, it has been polluted by the touch of mortals, and the contact of their sinful lips.
The interior of the Caaba is approached by a silver door, about the height of a man from the ground, to which they ascend by movable steps. There is a single room hung with red and green embroidered damask, and the roof is supported by four pillars eight feet square, made of aloes wood.
A sweet perfume pervades this apartment, which has been emitted from these pillars ever since Mohammed was born in the holy city of Medina, and silver lamps are suspended, which burn night and day. Near the Caaba are small chapels for the imams of the different Mohammedan sects, who severally bestow their blessings upon the pilgrims.
The agonized mother of Ishmael, wandering in the wilderness, her scanty bottle of water quite empty, having cast her helpless infant under the shrubs, and retreated that she might not see him die, sat at a distance and lifted up her voice and wept.
The dying moans of the infant reached the ears of the angel of God, who, to save the father of a great nation, caused the well-spring of water to gush forth from its recesses in the bowels of the earth.
As the ministering angel wiped the tears from the eyes of the disconsolate mother, she spied the crystal water, and hastened to administer to the fainting child. This same well, called the well of zem-zem, is near the holy house of prayer, and the thirsty pilgrims every year quaff its venerated waters and carry some of it to all parts of the Mohammedan dominions.
Such being the holy places, no wonder that every Mussulman, whether commanded or not, should desire to visit these sacred relics of antiquity.
And were it not forbidden, doubtless the unbelievers also would gladly undertake the same pilgrimage to witness the miraculous preservation of objects which are, some of them, incorporated with their own faith.
Four caravans meet in the city of Mecca, in the month Zil-hidjay, or the month of pilgrimage, every year—one from Cairo, one from Constantinople, a third from the Barbary states, and a fourth from India. The Egyptian caravan waits for the arrival of the one from Constantinople at Redowa near the holy cities. As the Sultan of Turkey holds the possession of the holy cities in his own territories, he is bound to send certain offerings to the shrine, which are the gold band and black damask covering for the Caaba, with a large sum of money to be distributed among the priests at Mecca. A certain kind of money is expressly coined at the royal mint for the pilgrimage, called the Caaba money. It is in gold pieces, and every one who goes to Mecca must provide himself with this circulating medium.
The wants of the numerous poor pilgrims are provided for in part, by an appeal to the superstitions of the populace. A model of the temple at Mecca is paraded through the streets followed by a crowd of the zealous chanting hosannas in Arabic, accompanied by the music of a drum of antique contrivance.
But few can withhold a tribute. The miser opens his hoards, and the widow adds her slender mite; the grandee and the slave, one and all, gladly answer the appeal of their fellows, when under a banner of such sacred veneration, and for a cause so laudable as a pilgrimage to the holy shrine of their faith. Rich and poor are busily employed in preparations.
The dervish in his humble robes, needs no costly array. His garb of sanctity, and the renunciation of all the trappings of wealth, open the purses of the more gaily apparelled; and often the rags of a mendicant conceal a full purse, much better filled perhaps, than his, who has spent his all on costly embroideries and richly caparisoned steeds.
The pasha and the efendi arrange their financial affairs, taking care to carry costly offerings, and largesse, wherewith to impress the multitude with their own greatness.
The ladies of the harems, in like manner, collect their jewels, their perfumes, in a word gifts of all things esteemed rare and precious, that they may not go empty-handed to the holy temple.
The merchants pack up their silks and rich stuffs of all sorts, and prepare for edification both temporal and spiritual.
Considering the immense throng of pilgrims, what must be the din of preparation throughout the Ottoman dominion?
Constantinople, its sultan, its treasury, its inhabitants high and low, its ladies, its saints and beggars—even the lisping children are whispering, God is great, Mohammed is his Apostle, and the Caaba is the house of God. The Egyptian viceroy is assembling his horseman and his camels at Berket el Hadge; the Maghrubees, or Barbaresques, are sharpening their scimitars, and preparing as if for war. India’s wealth, her pearls, shawls, and rubies, and stately elephants, are slowly wending their way to the shores of the Persian Gulf, where at al Katif, on the Arabian side, the old sheikh is tarrying with his herds of camels, to sell or hire them for the passage of the desert.
The holy Mecca is thus, for several months at least, the theme of all classes of Mohammedans.
At length the day arrives to begin the journey so fraught with blessings temporal and spiritual.
The conductor of the Constantinople caravan, called the Surré Emminee, or the trustee of the pilgrimage, proceeds to the palace, to receive his commission from the sultan; and to him are consigned all the treasures destined for Mecca.
All hopes of worldly aggrandizement are henceforth renounced by this dignitary; for having once imbibed the holy atmosphere of Mecca, his future aspirations are supposed to be only heavenward. He therefore, upon his return, generally retires to Damascus, where, nearer to the shrine, and in a clime more genial for holiness, he awaits his translation into that Paradise, of which his earthly honors are the type and foretaste.
Quitting the august presence of the “Thrice happy lord of the refulgent Mecca,” the Surré Emminee goes to the Porte, where he takes leave of his former colleagues in temporal greatness, and thence to the gate of the Sheikh-ul-Islam, who grants his blessing on the enterprise.
The pilgrims and others collect about him, and they proceed to Bahchai Capusoo, where a steamer is waiting to transport them over to Scutari, in Asia.
There, all along the route, are multitudes of people waiting to see the procession.
The insignia of the Surré Emminee are borne before him; two long poles, to which the expressive horse-tails are attached, and the Pasha of two tails follows on a beautiful Arabian charger.
The treasures destined for Mecca succeed on a train of camels, all bedecked with ribbons and spangles. But this world’s grandeurs are bestowed unequally even to these patient animals; for there is one of their number who outshines all his fellows. A venerable camel is covered with trappings enriched with precious stones of rare and sparkling lustre, for on his back he carries the sacred Koran extravagantly bound, and enclosed in a golden box set in brilliants; the gift of the sultan to the temple.
Happy is this distinguished animal, and his companions also, if they survive the pilgrimage and return; for, like the Surré Emminee, they are exempt from all future toil in this work-day world; and when Death at last claims them for his prey, they enjoy the honors of a burial, where no rude dogs or vultures can disturb their remains.
The Validé Sultan, or the mother of the sultan, reclines in her Tahtravan, a sort of elongated sedan chair, which is suspended on long poles between two camels and magnificent in proportion to the high rank of its occupant.
Mussulman women and children follow, in huge panniers, suspended on the sides of camels, horses, and donkeys.
Indeed, the good fathers and husbands of the Osmanlis are ever anxious to ensure to the female portion of their families high places in the celestial regions; and they are generally accompanied by their harems.
“It is incumbent on him whose family shall not be present at the holy temple, to fast three days in the pilgrimage, and seven when he is returned; they shall be ten days complete.”
And the same period of fasting is enjoined upon him “who findeth not anything to offer” at the shrine.
Mohammed himself set an example in this respect; for when he encompassed the Caaba, he was accompanied by his family, and his wife Kadijah, who, with his daughter Fatima, were two of the four women whom he pronounced to have attained a state of perfection on this side of the grave.
Trains of servants, led horses and camels, swell the concourse; and the whole is protected by a body of cavalry.
About six miles from Scutari, there is a fountain which bears the name of Iraluk Cheshmaysee, or the fountain of separation.
Thus far a number of friends and relations have accompanied the pilgrims; but, as in the journey of life, none can carry their loved ones with them into the celestial regions, so these travellers who are on an emblematic pilgrimage must now sunder strong ties, and loosen their hearts from earthly affections.
Fountain of parting! how are thy streams now accumulating, as the pearly drops of human woe trickle in among thy waters; how many days must pass ere those waters regain their crystal brightness, now all turbid with the crimson gushings of the heart blood of fathers, mothers, wives, husbands, and children!
Sadly they part: some turn their faces homeward with bitter sighs, while the pilgrims pursue their course, every advancing step widening the distance, till their clouded eyes can discern no further traces of the severed.
Even as faith reveals to the dying the glory of a celestial world, and reconciles the most trembling to a passage from the dim scenes of Earth; so does superstition foreshadowing the hour of mortal dissolution, display an earthly temple as the vestibule to the heavenly.
With eager steps, the pilgrims now press onwards, till they reach the most ancient and beautiful city of Damascus; where they halt for the caravans from Bagdad, Aleppo, and the neighboring towns. Time-worn associations flit about this monument of the wealth of the earliest founders of cities, after the universal deluge.
As the descendants of the great survivor of the wreck of the antediluvian world sought out a portion of the wide expanse of uninhabited, and as yet uncultivated earth, this lovely valley of nature’s own handiwork seemed to invite their tarrying, as it lay in calm repose, all fresh and verdant from the great waste of waters. Perhaps they discovered the ruins of a great city, the remnants of ancestral wealth; or the relics of the luxury and degeneracy which brought about the awful destruction of the victims of the flood.
Rapidly rose the proud city, and was famed even at the time of the first battle of which there is any record, of the five kings against four, the great Chedorlaomar and the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah, when the patriarch Abram went to rescue his nephew Lot, who had been taken captive.
It was the birth-place, too, of Eliezer, the steward of Abram, who must have been a man of superior attainments, as he had the care of all his master’s possessions, and even of the betrothal of his beloved son Isaac.
This ancient capital of Syria did not escape the enthusiasm of Moslem conquest, and the great Saracen generals, Abu-Obeidah and Khaled, took possession of the famous city, after a slaughter of 50,000 infidels, during the reign of Abubekir, the successor of Mohammed, A. D. 633. Damascus now became the capital of the Ottoman dominions, and their pride and glory; for they boast Evvely sham, Akhery sham, or, that as they had their beginning in Sham or Damascus, so there also, they will have their end.
So precious do they esteem this city, that it is styled the pearl surrounded by diamonds, and the gate of the most holy Mecca.
Here, then, at the most beautiful gate, do the pilgrims to the sacred shrine delight to repose awhile, their senses ravished with the loveliest enchantments of nature. Their eager vision extends over vast plains of richly waving foliage, mingling with its emerald hues, the brilliant tints of the citron, pomegranate, and fig. Sweet odors of aromatic freshness pervade the balmy air, while luscious and juicy fruits revive their thirsty senses. Over this vast and exquisite prospect, tower tall minarés, and graceful domes with glittering crescents, proclaiming as far as the eye can reach, the sway of Mohammed Ressoul Ullah.
But there is yet a weary way to the shrine, and the zealous throng, now swelled to a vast multitude, renew their journey. If the weather is very oppressive, they encamp in the day-time, and proceed by the light of innumerable torches at night.
How mysterious the pageant, stretching its long train over the barren and trackless sands. The camels, with stealthy step, waving their long necks slowly and majestically; now and then the Arabian coursers neighing in wearied restlessness, break the silence. Then a voice chanting a hymn of praise, and anon, a shout or chorus from the multitude. Now all is still, and fitful shadows glide along side by side with the wanderers, as the bright jewels on the camels glisten in the torch-light.
The caravan has passed, leaving in its track many palpitating forms, panting on the sands for that breath of life, which is rapidly exhaling from their bodies.
So weary a way—sometimes no water to quench the thirst, which rages in proportion to the scarcity of its antidote; fatigue adding its prostrating effects day by day, no wonder that many of the way-worn pilgrims are transferred to the Heavenly Temple, without a sight of the earthly.
The caravan from Cairo is also moving onwards, made up of a motley multitude, headed by the Emir Hadgee, who is appointed by the pasha of Cairo, and receives great emoluments from his office. Every pilgrim pays him a certain sum for the enregistering of his name and property, and the possessions of all those who die on the road, are also his perquisites. He is the governor of the pilgrimage, and is judge and jury in all matters of dispute. The Egyptians always carry with them the tomb of Hassan, and accompanied by cavalry and artillery, they proceed as far as Redowa, near Medina, where they are to meet the Constantinople caravan. About two days’ journey from Cairo, they arrive at a place called Miz-Haara, the ancient Marah of the Israelites, where, when the people murmured at the bitterness of the waters, Moses cast a tree into them, and they became sweet, of surpassing sweetness to all thirsty pilgrims. Thus they travel over the same wilderness as their ancient predecessors, encamping in the very spots selected by Moses for the tents of the chosen people of God.
After these caravans meet, they proceed, a vast multitude, to a village about sixty miles from Mecca, where is Abram’s mountain, on which he erected the altar to sacrifice his son.
On the top of this hill is a mosque, where an old sheikh resides, who, as the pilgrims halt, stands on the brow of the hill, and delivers an address to them on the importance of the duty they are performing, reminding them also of the blessings in store for all zealous Mussulmans. To what an immense audience does this lonely old man once a year proclaim the tenets of the Koran, and how eagerly do their thirsty souls quaff the water of everlasting life as he dispenses it.
Now the Emir Hadgee conducts the pilgrims one by one to the feet of the sheikh, as he stands in the mosque on the top of the hill, Rabiie. As they enter one door and pass out at the other in rapid succession, each one is touched by the divining rod in the hands of the old sheikh, and the burden of all their past transgressions rolls from their backs, as he pronounces the words, “May sin here leave thee.”
Lightened from the pressure of sin in every form, they run swiftly down the hill, and bathing their hands and faces in a stream which flows below, they become renewed, men, women, and children; and prepared to gaze upon the holy city of Mecca, which is not far distant. Now turning their faces to the shrine, the true believers hasten on their way; sometimes halting at the tomb of Eve, which is at Giddeh, the port of Mecca.
This illustrious and ancient mother of the human race must have been a dame of fair proportions; for her grave measures, from the head to the foot stone, no less than twenty-five yards, or seventy-five English feet. If she was of such exceeding stature, what must have been the dimensions of our great parent Adam, or what lofty personages must have been the giants of those days.
After travelling about three days longer, the domes of the Holy Temple are descried in the distance; when the multitude with mad delight prostrate themselves on the ground, and kissing the earth three times, proclaim with tremendous clamor, La Illah! Ill Lallah! Mohammed Ressoul Ullah!
There is no other God but God! Mohammed the Apostle of God!
The artillery is now fired to announce the arrival of the caravans to the inhabitants of Mecca, who, headed by the Shereef of the city and all the Imams, immediately proceed to meet the pilgrims, and conduct them within the sacred precincts.
Those who possess but scanty means, encamp without the city, and others are accommodated at khans, which are very numerous.
The next thing is to visit the bath, and thus purify themselves for the ceremonies at the temple—“I will wash my hands in innocency, so will I compass thine altar, O Lord.” Having invested themselves in the ehram, or covering of crimson woollen shag, which is always wrapped around the person on this occasion, they proceed to the Caaba.
Mohammed having performed these same ceremonies, his followers have ever since imitated his example.
Immediately after the Prophet took possession of the city of Mecca, he proceeded to the Caaba. There he stood upon the roof of the house of prayer, and proclaimed the first ezan, or call to prayer, at noon-day.
He then commenced his adorations at the shrine, by first kissing the black stone in the corner, near the door of the Caaba, then he proceeded to compass the building seven times, and then again kissed the sin-atoning stone. When the Caaba was let down from heaven to Adam, he requested that it might be so placed that he could compass it as he had seen the angels do. Ever since the creation, the number seven has had a mystic signification, and its sacred meaning is demonstrated in these devotions of the faithful. Mohammed then proclaimed to the people from Mount Arafat, the manner in which they were to perform the ceremonies at the Temple, and went to the valley of Mina, where he threw seven stones at the devil, every time pronouncing the words, Allah Ikbér! Allah Ikbér! God Almighty! God Omnipotent, as did Adam and Abraham, when the great Adversary interrupted their devotions.
The enemies of the Prophet account for the accumulation of stones in this valley by the following story.
It is well known that Mohammed was assisted in the preparation of the Koran, by an Armenian monk, by name Serkiss. When their work was completed, the Prophet wished to attest it by a miracle.
He accordingly persuaded Serkiss to descend into a deep well, while he called all the multitude to assemble. Holding a blank book in his hand, he declared that if the Koran was indeed revealed from Heaven, he would drop this blank-book into the well, and Allah would send it up all written and inscribed.
The book descended, and Serkiss sent up the one he had already prepared. “Now,” said Mohammed, “let each man cast a stone into the well, which will be a monument to the world.” Whereupon every one of the great concourse cast a stone, and thus effectually prevented Serkiss from appearing to contradict the miracle. Ever since that time, the pilgrims have helped to accumulate these stones, until a vast monument, indeed, has been erected.
The Prophet now offered the sacrifice of sixty-three camels, according to the years of his own life, shaved his head, and having run seven times between the two hills Safa and Merwa, in imitation of Hagar searching for water, he completed the holy ceremonies.
According to this model have the pilgrims continued, ever since his time, the performance of these superstitious devotions.
The holy duties of the shrine being over, after a few worldly cares are disposed of, the now self-satisfied travellers turn their footsteps homewards. Purified, and set apart, henceforth the chosen of Allah, fearless of all danger, as if within the shadow of the eternal world, nothing intimidates the followers of the Prophet, as with the greatest self-complacency they anticipate the rest of their sojourn in this lower world. Many have sacrificed all their earthly possessions, but are they not sure of the imperishable riches of paradise. With eager fondness, they embrace once again friends and relations, while the odor of sanctity exhales from their sacred persons. With what panting bosoms and restless vision do the friends search among the remnant returned from the wanderings, for dear and familiar faces; and human wailings rend the air, as they are told that brother, sister, and husband, lie whitening on the sand, long ere this the prey of the vulture. The happy father clasps to his breast his precious offspring, and with sweet complacency, ties around its neck a morsel the holy covering of the Caaba, so sure the charm, and obtained at such infinite perils. The pilgrims are surrounded, and with jealous caution they bestow a few drops of the water of the holy well Zem-Zem, which glides down the throats of the faithful like the oily fountains of Paradise.
The weary camels even linger out their lives in luxurious idleness, retired from oppressive service, with an air of unconscious sanctity and repose.
Henceforward, the glorious title of Hadgee, belongs to the returned pilgrim; no razor profanes the beard, and the very door of the house, by its hue of the Prophet’s robe, the sacred green, proclaims the rank and holiness of its master.
The Hadgee, with long and solemn face, never wearies of recounting his wonderful adventures, portraying with ecstasy, the splendors of the shrine, detailing with holy rapture the ceremonies and devotions, until the flame of superstitious zeal is enkindled in every bosom, and their spirits yearn for the sweet sanctity and all-atoning atmosphere of the most refulgent Mecca—and many vows are made that in the coming year, their footsteps shall surely be thitherward.
Such, then, are the illusions which beguile life’s wearisome journey to the followers of Mohammed; such the stepping-stones to their future Elysium.
Thus the tortures of conscience are eased, and thus does superstition stand fully armed at the portals of the soul.
Few, indeed, are the members of the great human family, who dare to combat this enemy to moral greatness; and how small the number of those, who renounce her sway. Chained down to creeds and dogmas, the mind of man seldom soars above the atmosphere of human inventions, but relyingly lingers in the leading strings of bigotry, in one form or another.
Thus is constituted the Practice of the Mohammedan Religion, viz., Ablutions, Prayers, Alms, Fasting, and the Pilgrimage to Mecca, which are denominated Farz, or obligatory. There are, however, many other traditional observances termed Sünnet, which as the Turks are Sünnees or traditionists, they have incorporated with their religious duties, such as circumcision, and many other rites. These rites, whose observance is only optional, are, however, performed with as much zeal and ceremony as those required by the Koran. Although the ceremony of circumcision is not alluded to in the Koran, and therefore not indispensable, yet it is a custom generally observed, and is performed when the child is able to pronounce the formula of faith “La Illah, Ill Allah, Mohammed Ressoul Ullah,” or is about the age of seven years.
This is a great festival, and when the sultan’s children, or those of any of the grandees, are the neophytes, a general invitation is extended to other candidates. Music, dancing, and feasting occupy the minds and distract the thoughts of the numerous company, young and old, during the week devoted to this ceremony.
CHAPTER VII.
PRINCIPLES OF THE TURKISH GOVERNMENT.
A people descended from nomadic tribes, and, until very recently, severed from foreign intercourse, would naturally retain its simple and national type. Besides, the peculiar bond of an exclusive faith, would still more tend to the preservation of ancient and characteristic usages.
Thus the Osmanlis have, with hitherto but few deviations, preserved their identity as an eminently patriarchal nation. As the son recognized the parent to be the governor and controller of his career, the fountain of experience and wisdom, and rendered to him a willing and natural obedience; so the people, needing such a fatherly care and control, were ready to invest one of their number with this authority.
Every system has its centre. The sun rules in the heavens—and the great mass of humanity seek a centre, around which to rally. The wonderful magnetism of mortal emotion tends to a common point, as surely as the needle to the pole. Thus some species of monarchy, whether elective or hereditary, seems inevitable to a multitude of beings, cast in human mould.
Tribes were instituted in early times, each with its patriarch or petty monarch; and when, for mutual strength or by conquest, these various tribes were combined, the monarch, with increasing subjects, became more powerful and distinguished.
When the wandering Tartars embraced Islamism, their chief becoming the successor to the Caliphate, was not only their temporal, but spiritual head. These two elements of power, church and state, endowed the monarch with unlimited sway, beyond whom there could be no appeal. The simple patriarch now becomes not only the father of his people, but the representative of Allah; the sole controller of life and death, property and religion. Years, even centuries, roll on, the scimitar gains nation after nation, fertile territories and treasures to the followers of the Crescent, and innumerable multitudes swarm around the standard.
The Padi-Shah, or ruler of this vast concourse of men, the absolute owner of the domain far and wide, now rejoices in the adulations of his superstitious subjects who acknowledge him as the
“King of Kings, and Lord of Lords; Ruler of the East and West, and of all parts of the world; Prince of the Holy and chaste city of Jerusalem; shining with the brightness of God. Thrice happy Lord of the refulgent Mecca. Tamer of infidels, and the scourger of the unbelieving race of Christian vassals. Lord of the White (Mediterranean), and the Black Seas. The most mighty and invincible Sultan, who has power from God to rule all people with a bridle.”
Many other similar titles are bestowed upon him, which, though they may seem somewhat bombastic, or even ridiculous, in these days of equality and freedom, yet are not unparalleled in some of the more civilized realms of modern Europe; nor without their legitimate influences upon the subjects of this potentate.
In order to illustrate the wonderful effect which the assumption of such high-sounding appellatives has upon the general mass of the people, I will relate an incident which happened to myself:—
During a recent sail on the Bosphorus in a cayik, and immediately after the arrival of the allied fleets, I thought to amuse myself with some political chit-chat with my boatman. As I was remarking about the assistance of the Allies, the simple-minded, but thorough Mussulman, was very prompt in solving the mystery of this unheard-of political combination; why should two sets of giavours combine with the true believers, against a third?
The reason seemed plain enough to him. The French giavours had a new king, and since the Padi-shah is the “Prince of Princes, and Lord of Lords,” in order to merit at his hands the consummation of royalty, they had come to fight for him, bringing along England to intercede for them.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE ADMINISTRATIVE GOVERNMENT.
Although the power and authority of the sultan is unlimited, and his sway entirely arbitrary, the disposal of affairs is naturally consigned to various officers. The two principal of these are the Grand Vezir, and the Sheikh-ul-Islam.
The Grand Vezir was formerly called Lala, or Tutor, because he was the sole adviser to his majesty, and as he exercised the civil functions of the executive, he was styled “Vekili-Mutlah,” or vicar absolute. He therefore enjoyed all the rights and immunities of his imperial master—to the entire control of property and life itself.
He used to head the army in time of war; make all appointments to office; give audiences to the foreign ambassadors, receive and answer their memorials; and he only, of all the ministers of the realm, had free access to the royal presence. As he was amenable to no tribunal, his only forfeit being his own head, and his worldly possessions, it was his policy to render the person of the sultan inapproachable—between whom and his people, a mystic veil seemed ever to depend. By degrees, the monarch, who should have been the father of his people, removed from all intercourse with his subjects, became only the shrine of their superstitious devotions, the deity of their worship, the proxy of Allah; while the real administrator of the realm, was the selfish, ambitious, scheming, and blood-thirsty Grand Vezir. Even on Fridays, as his majesty appeared in public on his way to the mosque, he was so surrounded by pomp and royal pageantry, as to be almost invisible. But since the promulgation of the Tanzimat or reformation, an entire change has been effected in the administrative department, and a substantial check imposed upon the Grand Vezir, whose former prerogatives and immunities have been much curtailed.
There is now a council attached to each department, which deliberates upon the various measures proposed. A grand national council, established on a somewhat European system, called the Medjlissi-Wala, or senate, composed of the dignitaries and notables of the nation, and presided over by a Reiss or chief of its own, controls the affairs of the nation in general. Its duties are to prepare the laws; establish or revise the basis of the taxation; regulate the revenues and expenditure of the government; to draft the instructions for the governors of the provinces; to try all treasonable acts and crimes committed against the state; to correct the abuses of the functionaries; to attend to the complaints of citizens brought against the different agents or authorities; to draw up sentences for criminals, which are either maintained or modified by his majesty, etc. etc.,
There is another council called the Medjlissi-Khass, or special council, which, being composed of the ministers of the different departments, may be termed a cabinet, or privy council.
The Grand Vezir, as prime minister, presides over this. These two councils together, constitute what is termed and generally known as the Baabu-Aali, or the Sublime Porte.
Baab is the Arabic word for gate, or porte in French. Ever since Mordecai sat in the king’s gate, and perhaps long before his time, all the places of public administration in the East, have been designated by this term. For instance, Baabū-Sheik-ul-Islam, is the Superior Court; Baabū-Serasker, the war department, and in contradistinction to all the other courts or departments, the government of the Ottoman empire is denominated the Baabū-Aali, or the supreme gate or court; a term of similar significance, with the Court of St. James, the Tuileries, or the Government at Washington.
Thus it will be perceived, that the original autocratic government has now been reduced into a form of bureaucracy.
The vast empire of Turkey, partaking of the territories of no less than three continents, is divided into thirty-seven Ayalets or provinces; each Ayalet being sub-divided into Livas or counties; and each Liva into Kazas or townships. These provinces, counties, and townships, are respectively governed by Valis, Kaimakams, and Müdirs.
The governors, etc., of these provinces, formerly enjoyed in their respective domains the same absolute authority as the Grand Vezir, and answered with the same forfeiture of their heads and property for their misdemeanors. But of late years, the same check has also been put upon their powers, as in the central government, by the establishment of councils, &c.
All the ministers and governors of Provinces are now appointed by the sultan, and the secondary places are filled by the appointment of the Grand Vezir.
When his majesty designs to elevate a person to the office of minister of the realm, one of the chamberlains of the palace proceeds to summon the individual to the royal presence, where he is invested in his new office by the bestowal of the Nishani-Müshir or the badge of rank in brilliants, which is suspended around the neck; and an Iradé or Edict is granted him by the Sultan. He then proceeds with much pomp and ceremony to the Porte, where he is immediately recognized, according to the royal commands. He is met at the foot of the stairway by the Grand Vezir in person, who bows to the edict presented to him by the chamberlain with as much reverence as if it were his royal master himself. Holding the document over his head, the viceroy enters the grand council chamber, where he reads it in a loud voice, and the ceremony is concluded by an extempore prayer, offered by the mufty of the council—and the new minister is conducted to his gate, or his own department.
When they are deposed from office, the royal chamberlain appears, demanding the Nishan which is immediately relinquished.
CHAPTER IX.
THE POLICY OF THE GOVERNMENT.
The policy of the government has hitherto been centralization, that is, to draw the mass of the people from the frontiers to a common centre, in order the more readily to suppress any rebellion; and by depopulating the borders, to prevent the approach of foreign invasion.
Besides, even while consigning the inhabitants of the provinces to the arbitrary control of the governors, a certain degree of awe and ready submission might be inspired towards the central government, which could, at pleasure and option punish, with one fell blow, the very ruler who was regarded as omnipotent in his own territories.
Also, it was with ulterior designs, that such a degree of laxity was tolerated. The distant and provincial authorities, in grasping all within their reach, and oppressing the people under their control, were able to amass great possessions for themselves; but they were amenable to the supreme power, which availed itself of its prerogatives to judge and condemn, upon the slightest accusation, and to confiscate and appropriate the spoils, with the semblance of justice itself—as if avenging the wrongs of an injured population.
Notwithstanding, there was often an assumption of independence in many of the provincial authorities, who succeeded in maintaining the dignity of Déré-Beys or Feudal Barons, such as Tchapan-Oghlou, Tepelene, and Mehmed Aali.
The consequence has been, that as you receded from the seat of government over the vast tracts of territory, the very limited internal communications, combined with the independence and rapacity of the governors of the distant provinces, produced anarchy, misrule and misery, in frightful ratio. Some amelioration has been attempted of late by the Tanzimat or reformation, and the establishing of roads and post-offices, councils, &c.; but the spirit of centralization still pervades with all its legitimate evils.
Another equally pernicious error in their policy, was the idea that it was better to employ the heads and hands of the people in foreign wars, with the view to keep them constantly occupied, and to maintain a military ardor. Although this system contributed vastly to the extension of the empire, yet sad experience has developed its injurious effects. For constant acquisitions so enlarged their dominions and inflated the soldiery, that the very sultan began to tremble on his throne, until the destruction of the janissaries became indispensable for the preservation of the empire.
This famous military body was created in the reign of Sultan Mourad, the son and successor of Orkhan; and it was notorious for many centuries, till they were at last destroyed by Mahmoud, the father of the present sultan.
The janissaries are so interwoven with the past and present history of Turkey, that it does not seem amiss to give here a slight sketch of their origin and downfall.
CHAPTER X.
HISTORY OF THE JANISSARIES.
The Janissaries were first instituted for the protection of the throne and person of the sultan; the army being then composed of the victorious Turkomans, who had become turbulent, and were ready to take the reins of government into their own hands. A new militia was consequently instituted by Mourad, composed of young prisoners of war, who were brought up in the Moslem faith: and, in contradistinction to the existing army, were denominated Yeni-tcheri, or new soldiers.
With the design of giving more solemnity to the new order, the founder resorted to the aid of religion, and they were blessed by a famous sheikh, Hadji-Bektash,[1] who extending his arms over the troops, invoked the blessing of Allah, and predicted their future victories, pronouncing these words:
“Let them be called Yeni-tcheries. May their countenance ever be bright! their hand victorious! their sword keen! May their spear always hang over the head of their enemies, and wheresoever they go, may they return with a white face!”
Their uniform consisted of loose trousers, and long, flowing robes, tucked up. Their head-gear, when in full dress, was very peculiar. A round cap of grey felt, with a long piece of the same hanging behind, in commemoration of the loose sleeve of the saint, which was suspended over their heads when he extended his arms to bless their institution.
They were armed with sabres, scimitars, pistols, yataghans, muskets, constituting, as it were, a peripatetic model arsenal.
Their mode of warfare was quite primitive; each fighting on his own responsibility.
From their earliest years, these Christian slaves snatched from the bosom of their families, were inured to all sorts of hardships, and to perfect resignation to the will of their superiors. They were diligently trained in the art of war, and every trace of their parents and native country being obliterated from their minds, their only aim was to promote the interest and glory of their lord and sultan, and they were, for many centuries, justly distinguished for the excellence of their discipline, and for their indomitable courage.
But, owing to their constant successes, they at last began to consider themselves invincible, and by degrees becoming insolent, respected neither the laws nor even the sultan himself. They thus turned that power, which was originally the defence and glory of the country, to its ruin and destruction; and many were the sultans who fell victims to their audacity and rebellion.
Sultan Selim III., in his attempt to reform them, was sacrificed to their fury.
They were, in reality, the ruling power in the country: dethroning sultans, and taking off the heads of ministers at their will. They were upheld in all their excesses by the people, from a dread of their vengeance, many of whom, from motives of personal safety, even enlisted as honorary members of their corps. For, even the assassin could find a secure asylum in their barracks, from which no power or authority could claim him.
Nothing was sacred in their estimation; families dared not to venture abroad without a janissary escort; and, on this account, the different foreign embassies were always accommodated with two or three of their number, which custom is still in vogue; though Kavasses, or Turkish police officers, have been substituted for the janissaries of former times.
Even the royal harem was not safe from them, and neither life nor property were secure from their depredations.
Besides their regular rations, their pay was at the rate of from one asper to twenty, according to their rank, per day. An asper was, at that time, equal to one cent of Federal money. But they had various ways of increasing their personal revenues.
They assumed a peculiar style of taxing the peaceable citizens, by carelessly tossing their handkerchiefs at them, with an intimation that their pockets needed replenishing, and none dared to return the handkerchief without a tribute tied in one of its corners.
Those who were stationed in the city as metropolitan guards, generally contrived to amass a quantity of mud before the guardhouse, which they would ask all the rayahs who passed by, either to sweep away, or contribute something for its removal.
The day of their revolt was most memorable, and our own janissary boatman coolly put the number and mark of his regiment upon the street-door of our residence, as an intimation to his comrades that the house was already appropriated by one of the brotherhood.
Assassination was a matter of frequent occurrence in those days. The father of the writer once narrowly escaped with his life.
He happened to be passing by a shop, where a janissary was examining a yataghan with a view of purchasing it.
“Stop,” cried the janissary, to him, “come here, I want to test this blade on you.”
He knew the character of those villains too well to suppose that the rascal was joking—as a forlorn hope, he indifferently remarked, “that it would be hardly worth the while to try such an exquisite blade on my old tottering body,” at the same time suggesting, that it would be better for his excellency to accept the sword as a gift, with the view of trying it on some worthier subject, and throwing the money to the merchant, the old gentleman very suddenly disappeared.
Imbued with the wildest fanaticism, and with all the prejudices of ancient times, and habituated to command rather than to obey, these janissaries constituted the most effectual barrier to all progress or national reform.
Indeed, their outrageous conduct was often the principal cause of war with foreign nations—and a stigma upon their country.
Any monarch, then, who appreciated the real interest of his subjects, and could anticipate the future downfall of his country, would be impelled to annihilate this scourge.
Eternal gratitude is due to the illustrious Mahmoud, who at last, accomplished this task. A man of remarkable energy and discernment, more inspired with the spirit of civilization and modern reform than any of his predecessors; with a determination and perseverance unparalleled in the history of his country, Mahmoud effected this coup d’état, and has justly been designated of “Glorious memory.”
He first gained over to himself the renowned Hüssein Pasha, who was then the Agha or chief of the janissaries; then Kara-Jehennem or Black-Hell, the chief of the artillery, and Bostangy-Bashi, the head of the life-guards; with the co-operation of these personages a system of military reform was ordered, requiring all the soldiery to be regularly drilled, and to adopt a certain uniform better suited to military life, than the flowing robes and cumbersome head gears they had hitherto worn.
The artillery corps and the life-guards cheerfully submitted to this order, but the janissaries considered this change of costume as an innovation upon long established customs, and averse to any military discipline, there arose great dissatisfaction among them; and, as usual, they commissioned the Kool-Keahiassi, their representative, to remonstrate with his majesty, upon whose refusal to listen to their murmurs, they determined on rebellion.
Having no suspicions of their chief, Hüssein-Pasha, according to his counsel and public proclamation, the janissaries all assembled in their own barracks, at the great square of Et-Meydan, nearly in the centre of the city, to be in readiness to resist any attempt on the part of the sultan, to enforce his edict.
The sultan being informed of this circumstance, he, on his part, issued a proclamation that all good Mussulmans should repair to the holy standard of the Prophet in the court of the seraglio.
This standard is never brought out except in cases of great emergency, and no Mussulman would refuse to repair to it when summoned. Accordingly all the Mussulman citizens, the artillery and the life-guards, who hated the janissaries, assembled at the seraglio and proceeded in a body to the great rallying point of the rebels, where they met with a warm reception from the barrack windows of the janissaries, who, confident in their own sheltered position, were sure of a glorious victory.
But they were soon undeceived; for, by the order of Kara-Jehennem, two field pieces had been slily transported to the very doors of the barracks, whose first discharge shattered the gates and prostrated hundreds of the rebels.
The janissaries now desperate, rushed to seize the cannon, which were just reloading: and had it not been for the heroic action of Kara-Jehennem at this critical emergency, all would have been lost. The brave general perceiving the nature of the affair, and although wounded as he was in the thigh, promptly jumped from his horse, and seizing the torch, instantly applied it to the cannon, and thus baffling the attempts of the assailants, soon turned the scale of fortune.
All resistance was now rendered futile by the barracks being set on fire, when amidst shrieks of agony the miserable wretches were, on the 15th of June, 1826, destroyed. Many among them were allowed to effect their escape, with the design of sparing the innocent. The most dangerous of their number were afterwards arrested and sent to the European castles on the Bosphorus, where their doom was sealed by the bow-string, and thus perished this formidable scourge of the Ottoman Empire.
Many censures and much opprobrium have been cast upon the memory of Mahmoud for this act of consummate destruction. He has been stigmatized as cruel and blood-thirsty, whereas his whole country was groaning under a scourge of tremendous power, in the shape of an unlicensed soldiery.
Day by day, the monster grew in strength, and threatened the utter annihilation of both sovereign and people. What greater act of humanity then, than to crush the Hydra with one fell blow.
By this act Mahmoud not only established his own sovereign authority, but bursting, for the first time, the bonds of barbarism, made a bold stride towards the platform of civilization, and the fraternity of the world. But for Mahmoud, Turkey would, perhaps, have, ere this, been only a record of the past.
The army was immediately re-organized, and the soldiers were trained in European tactics, by distinguished foreign officers.
They attained great distinction as infantry and artillery-men, and still greater progress would have been made in military science, had it not been for the intrigues of Russia, who, just at that period, availing herself of the forlorn condition of the country, found a favorable opportunity for declaring war.
The Allies of the present day, not discerning the Muscovite cunning, were quiet spectators of the affray, and became as it were silent partners in the shameful treaty of Adrianople, for which they have since paid so dearly.
But the janissaries were not the sole barriers to the civilization of the country. The Ulema, or the expounders of the faith, have exercised even greater influence over the minds of the superstitious people, through their unlimited spiritual authority.
[1] Some historians attribute the origin of the janissaries to Orkhan; at the same time all agree that they were blessed by Hadji Bektash—forgetting that the said sheikh was only contemporary with Mourad, and not Orkhan. [↑]
CHAPTER XI.
SPIRITUAL BRANCH OF THE GOVERNMENT.
Turkey is a country where church and state are most eminently combined. The standard of every measure or act is the Koran; the administration of affairs, both civil and religions, must, therefore, be in conformity with the precepts of that sacred book; but since that book does not provide for all emergencies, and in many instances is not even explicit, those who made the Koran their special study have ever been consulted, and all matters referred to them for examination and sanction.
The entire body of these ecclesiastics are denominated the Ulema, or learned (in the Koran), and their expositions are termed Fetvas. These Fetvas constitute, as it were, the statutes of the state.
The sanction of these doctors in every measure being essential, each civil tribunal is supplied with one of their number, in order that their acts may be valid. Hence, even the Grand-Vezir, who only represents the sultan in temporal matters, is associated with the chief of the Ulema, viz., the Sheikh-ul-Islam, who, on his part, personifies his majesty in spiritual affairs. Bearing the title of Fetvayi-Pena, or the Grand Expositor, his approval is necessary even to the measures of the great viceroy himself, for no law can be promulgated without his sanction.
Considering then the importance attached to the study of the Koran, and the benefit derived from a full knowledge of its spirit and contents, which constitute the basis of the law and government, many have been induced to adopt it as a profession.
There are no less than forty thousand of these Ulema in Constantinople.
These men are of very low origin, and are generally the sons of poor peasants. They come to Constantinople and enlist themselves as Softas, or students of divinity or law, which are synonymous terms, in one of the principal mosques, where they go through a regular course of study.
They receive no salary, but are allowed one loaf of bread a day, and partake of such food as is gratuitously distributed to the poor from the Imarets, or charitable institutions, which are attached to all the principal mosques.
When they are proficients in writing, they are allowed to copy the Koran in the original Arabic, which it has hitherto been considered sacrilege to print or translate. And by the sale of these copies they gain a livelihood.
They are afterwards promoted either to the office of Imams, officiating priests, or to that of Kadis and Mollahs, district judges, or Muftis, or expounders of the law. The acme of their ambition is to become either Molla-Hunkiar, chaplain to his majesty, Kazy-ul-Asker chief justice, or Sheikh-ul-Islam, high pontiff of the realm. This latter personage is considered by the Mussulmans as an undoubted oracle in all instances.
Though the sultan is the head of both church and state, yet the Sheikh-ul-Islam being appointed for life, and exempted from capital punishment, his authority, through the superstition of the people, has been most arbitrary, and even sometimes controlled the actions of the executive; and it has only happened in our day, that in order to assert the entire supremacy of the sultan, the Sheikh-ul-Islam has, for the first time in the annals of the nation, been deposed from his sacred office, and another substituted in his place.
The Ulema are not supported by the government, but by the income of the mosques, which are largely endowed by religious devotees. Those who are in the civil employment, receive, however, fixed salaries from the state, in addition to their own ecclesiastical income.
The real estates owned by the mosques are immense and beyond calculation. They are called Vakuf, in contradistinction to other lands of the government, termed mülk. These vakuf lands, which comprise more than two-thirds of the empire, are sold as under a perpetual lease, with a yearly tax or rent, and all improvements made on them are considered to belong by right to the land, and not allowed to be removed. In case of the death of a proprietor leaving no male heirs, the property, with all the improvements thereon, reverts to the mosque.
The documents by which these lands are held, are so carelessly registered and transferred, that disputes are almost unavoidable. For instance, a deed is thus drawn up, A B has purchased of C D a piece of land, belonging to such a vakuf, said to contain about 156 acres more or less; that is, it might range from 100 to 1,500 or 2,000 acres, since its limits are not fixed by any actual survey, or specified by a map; but the boundaries are described in the most primitive style by sensible objects, viz., an apple tree on one side, a ditch on the other, the property of so and so on the third, and the main road on the fourth. This system has hitherto proved most advantageous to the vakufs; the peculiar elasticity of such indefinite boundaries, admitting of great territorial trespass upon adjoining lands, until they have succeeded in absorbing two-thirds of the empire.
Strangers are not allowed to own these lands, nor hold them in trust, with the view to avoid litigation with the different foreign embassies. There has not, therefore, been hitherto any inducement to European emigration, to the introduction of foreign capital, nor encouragement to internal improvements.
The mosques derive an immense revenue, both from the rents of these estates, and the commission on sales, which is enormous; being no less than 8 per cent. on each transfer.
With such a percentage, were the sale repeated fifteen times, the original cost of the land would be doubled; so that there is an effectual check upon land speculation. Apart from this, the vakuf system is ruinous both to the community and to the government. If a man wants to raise a sum of money, by mortgaging his property for three months only, besides the customary interest of the country, which is 1 per cent., he has to bear the enormous expense of the transfer and retransfer, which amounts, as has been said, to 6 per cent. This added to the 3 per cent., the interest for the three months, making altogether no less than 9 per cent. for three months! This is not all. The natives not being allowed the privilege of borrowing foreign funds, by mortgaging their own property, are reduced to the necessity of resorting to their own capitalists, who usually demand 2 or 3 per cent. a month!
The whole of this vakuf land, or church property, occupied and unoccupied, pays no taxes, so that a most profitable source of revenue is unavailable to the government.
The immense incomes of the vakufs are partly appropriated to the erection of mosques, hospitals, schools, fountains, baths, and other charitable institutions; and above all to the support of the Ulema themselves. But there is always an immense surplus, which lies dormant with previously accumulated hoards, unless resorted to for the promotion of some of the fanatical schemes and personal aggrandizement of the Ulema themselves.
These men, thus rendered independent of the government, and possessing unbounded influence over the minds of the superstitious people, and being, in fact, the ultimatum of every hope and project, have been the greatest barriers to national improvement; for, surrounded by wealth, and themselves of the lowest origin, they attach an undue value to worldly possessions; and trained in religious bigotry, they resist all innovations as infringing upon their own interests, temporal and spiritual; so that in destroying the janissaries, and leaving the Ulema unmolested, Sultan Mahmoud did but half the work of reform.
CHAPTER XII.
REVENUE AND EXPENDITURE.
The revenue of the government is about thirty-six millions of dollars, and is thus divided:
| Göshüre,tithe | $11,000,000 | |
| Saliane, land tax | 10,000,000 | |
| Haradj, Poll tax on Christiansubjects (lately abolished) | 2,000,000 | |
| Geömrük,customs | 4,300,000 | |
| Mirry and Ihtissab, indirecttax | 7,500,000 | |
| Vergys, or tributes of Egypt | $1,000,000 | |
| Vergys,,,or,,tributes,,of,,Wallachia | 100,000 | |
| Vergys,,,or,,tributes,,of,,Moldavia | 50,000 | |
| Vergys,,,or,,tributes,,of,,Servia | 100,000 | |
| 1,250,000 | ||
| $36,050,000 | ||
Constantinople, the capital of the Ottoman Empire, though it contains, including all its suburbs, a population of nearly a million of inhabitants, is, owing to the system of centralization, exempt from the direct tax, which is levied only in the provinces. Of late there has, however, been a sort of an income tax established, requiring every house-owner to register all contracts of rent at the Police, and pay a fee thereon of two per cent. Besides this, they have also introduced another tax on commercial and financial transactions, such as stamped bills, &c.
Some of these taxes and revenues are collected by the agents of the government on its own account; and others are farmed out at public auction, with the view of avoiding the abuses and corruptions of the officials; the benefit of which arrangement was illustrated, when the custom-house was farmed out to the Armenian banker, Djezâyirly, who bid double the amount which the treasury used to realize.
The expenditure of the government has usually been nearly within its income; but of late years has exceeded it.
It includes the sultan’s personal expenses, and the civil and military list.
The sultan receiving a salary of $300,000 per month; the Grand Vezir $4,000, and the others $3,000 each.
| Civil list | of the Sultan and his harem | $4,100,000 |
| Civil,,list,, | of,,the,, Army | 15,000,000 |
| of,,the,, Navy | 2,000,000 | |
| Ordnance and Fortifications | 1,500,000 | |
| Pay of Functionaries | 10,000,000 | |
| Foreign Diplomatic Salaries | 500,000 | |
| Public Works | 500,000 | |
| Séhims or life annuities &c. | 2,200,000 | |
| Interest on Cayimés at 6 per cent. | 450,000 | |
| Bank subvention | 1,000,000 | |
| $37,250,000 | ||
The deficiency in the treasury is occasioned partly by arrears of taxes, and partly by incidental expenses, such as bank subvention, appropriations for internal improvements, etc.
With the view of enabling the treasury to carry on its operations, the government has, for the past few years, been obliged to effect a local loan of $8,000,000, in the shape of Kayemés, or Treasury notes, bearing interest of 6 per cent per annum. Apart from this, it has also contracted a foreign debt of £5,000,000—these two are the only national debts.
The monetary market in every country is governed by its exports and imports. The demand in Turkey for articles of foreign produce, having gradually exceeded its former imports, the balance of trade has been against the country, and a drain of specie has been the natural consequence. Apart from this, the payment of the Russian indemnities, having forced the government to demonetize its currency, the rate of exchange became very fluctuating, and a fit subject to financial operators; so that affairs assumed a frightful aspect.
To remedy this evil, the government was advised to establish a Bank, in order to keep the foreign exchange at a more uniform par value; this subvention has cost the government on an average $1,000,000 per annum; jet without any good success, for it only served to enrich a few individuals, who were intrusted with its management, without benefiting the country in general, and involved the national treasury in greater difficulty.
CHAPTER XIII.
ARMY AND NAVY.
The standing army of the Ottoman Empire is in time of peace 120,000 men, and 180,000 during war. It consists of six ordoos or divisions, viz.:
- Hassa, or Imperial Guards.
- Der-y-Saadet, or Metropolitan Division.
- Roumely, or European (Turkey) Division.
- Anadolou, or Asiatic, Division.,,
- Arabistan, or Arabian, Division.,,
- Irak, or Mesapotamian, Division.,,
Every division comprises, three regiments of foot, two of horse, and one of artillery, with 32 guns, the whole amounting to 30,000 men.
The soldiers in active service are called Nizam, and those in reserve, Redif. They are raised by conscription, and formerly used to serve all their lifetime, or as long as they were able, but by a commendable measure recently introduced by Riza Pasha, a military reform has been effected, by which they are now relieved at the end of five years, when they go to their respective homes, subject however, to certain military duties at stated times. By this measure, Turkey has been enabled to raise a reserve of no less than 400,000 Redifs.
Both Nizams and Redifs are divided into two bodies, commanded by Feriks (or Lieutenant Generals) and Livas (Brigadier General), and the whole of every division by a Serdar or Field Marshal.
The entire army is subject to the orders of the Ser-Asker or the Generalissimo, who is the minister of war.
The famous Omar Pasha who was one of the Serdars commanding the Asiatic division, has lately been elevated to the post of Ser Asker.
The rank and file of the Turkish army in composed of able-bodied and well-drilled soldiers; but they are badly officered by illiterate men, raised from the ranks, who are untarnished by modern reforms and imbued with a due share of the popular national conceit.
It is only very recently, that a military school having been established, the army is supplied with well instructed officers, among whom may be found many of the sons of the grandees of the empire. There is, however, a constant jealousy between these more enlightened young commanders, and the old veterans of the ancien régime; the latter regarding the former as mere upstarts and parvenus.
The Rayas, or Christian subjects have hitherto been exempt from military service not because they are not fitted to become the defenders of their country, equally with their Mohammedan compatriots, but lest by coming into competition with them they should rise to high posts in the army, and rank even above their Mussulman subordinates.
The Turkish navy is comprised thus:
| Ships. | Guns. | Men. | |
| Three-Deckers, | 2 | 260 | 2700 |
| Two-Deckers, | 8 | 668 | 9500 |
| Frigates, | 14 | 788 | 5400 |
| Corvettes, | 6 | 100 | Indeterminate |
| Brigs, | 6 | 80 | Indeterminate,, |
| Schooners, cutters, &c., | 12 | 72 | Indeterminate,, |
| War Steamers, &c., | 28 | 112 | Indeterminate,, |
| 76 | 2080 | 20 @ 25,000 | |
| Destroyed at Sinope, | 11 | ||
| 65 |
Many of the Turkish vessels of war are noble specimens of naval architecture. For ever since the beautiful models built by Ekford and his successors, Rhodes and Beeves, have floated upon their waters, a wonderful impetus has been given to the navy of the Osmanlis—and the prow of almost every vessel bears the impress of American ingenuity.
Magnificent men of war, vessels of the line, frigates, sloops, brigs, schooners, and cutters lie all along the Bosphorus, fully manned and equipped. But so seldom are they in action, or so rarely do they sail beyond the “ocean stream,” that the men are utterly without the incitement of any real engagements, and unused to rougher seas—so that if, perchance, they are called into active service, more than half of them are confined to their hammocks.
Thus the lamentable occurrence at Sinope may be accounted for; the squadron having been obliged to anchor there on its way to Batoum, because nearly all the sailors were sea-sick.
The officers themselves are illiterate, and ignorant of the science of navigation.
It is true that some few have been educated in the British navy, who are now distinguished in the Turkish marine—and it is to be hoped that many of the scholars of the new naval academy will hereafter elevate the character of their nation on the seas; though there are not the same incentives to maritime emulation as exist in England and America, or even in France.
The general staff of the navy contains,
- 3 Admirals,
- 5 Vice Admirals,
- 8 Rear Admirals.
The staff of a man-of-war of first rank, contains,
| 1 | Commander—whose rank is equal to | Lieutenant-Colonel. |
| 1 | Second commander | Chef de bataillon. |
| 1 | Hodja | Major. |
| 16 | Mulazims | Lieutenants. |
| 1 | Physician, 2Surgeons, 1 Imam or chaplain, and from 800 to 900 men. | |
The entire naval force is under the command of a Captain Pasha or High Admiral, who is the Minister of the Navy.
The men, subalterns and even captains, both of the army and navy, are most miserably paid. A common soldier at the rate of seventy-five cents a month, and a captain eleven dollars and rations—so that any deficiency in hospitality or style of living, is not to be attributed to indifference on their own part.
CHAPTER XIV.
COMMERCE.
The trade of Turkey, including that of Egypt and the Danubian Principalities, amounted, in 1852, to
| Imports, | £11,828,300 | Sterling. |
| Exports, | 10,644,450 | Sterling.,, |
The Osmanlis, having no commercial marine except their own few coasters—the whole foreign, and great part of the internal trade, is carried on by 35,000 foreign vessels; whose aggregate tonnage amounts to 5,000,000 annually, and they are admitted to her ports at small charges.
The tariff of Turkey is but nominal; being only three per cent. on all exports, and two per cent. additional as consumptive duty—making altogether, five per cent. on their value.
This free-trade principle, is not, however, purely from liberal motives, but the result of foreign compulsion, and their own ignorance of political economy. For, in their anxiety to counterbalance the deficiencies of the treasury, caused by unjust treaties extorted from them by foreign powers, they have imposed a duty of no less than thirteen per cent. on all their produce or exports, so that, when the governmental tithe upon the raw material, the various other direct and indirect taxes on the same, and the onerous export duty are together taken into consideration, the cost of the produce is, in effect, raised to about 30 or 35 per cent. above its original value.
Apart from this, if sheet iron, which is imported from England, and upon which the usual duty of 5 per cent. is already levied, be manufactured into stove pipes, or any other form, it is considered as home produce, and a new duty of 13 per cent. collected thereon!
The tariff is regulated every seven years, and the value of the different articles is determined by a commission of merchants representing the different nations, each of whom endeavors to maintain his own interest. One of these gentlemen exultingly boasted, that his own fortune was made, as he had succeeded in establishing a low valuation on a certain article in which he dealt very largely.
America has hitherto had no representative in this body, though her commerce has, especially of late, been rapidly increasing with this part of the world. It has only been through ignorance of the country and its resources, that American enterprise has made so little progress in the East, or been confined to the interposition of English and other houses.
Does this country present no inducements to the mercantile community? Let the following table of Exports and Imports speak for itself.
- Corn.
- Beans, peas, etc.
- Wool.
- Raw silk.
- Opium.
- Otto of roses, and other perfumes.
- Angora hair.
- Coffee (Mocha).
- Canary seed.
- Linseed.
- Do. oil.
- Rice.
- Yellow berries.
- Boxwood.
- Madder root.
- Tallow.
- Valonea.
- Gall nuts.
- Fruits.
- Drugs.
- Soap.
- Olives and olive oil.
- Sponges.
- Tobacco.
- Cotton.
- Sesame.
- Meerschaum.
- Carpets.
- Copper.
- Hides and skins.
- Bones.
- Confections.
- Helva.
- Shawls.
- Oriental manufactures.
- Leeches.
- Rags.
- Cordials.
- Cymbals.
- Lumber.
- Embroideries.
- Hemp and Flax.
- Salt.
- Mastic.
- Chibouks, Nargilles, and amber mouthpieces.
- Silk goods.
- Cotton goods.
- Woollen stuffs.
- Linen.
- Haberdashery.
- Hardware.
- Watches and clocks.
- Jewelry.
- Sugar.
- Coffee, pepper, and spices.
- Iron and nails.
- Coal.
- Stone ware.
- Logwood.
- Rum and wines.
- Fancy goods.
- Cochineal.
- Tanned hides.
- Glass ware.
- Furniture.
- Drugs and medicines.
- Butter.
- Kaviar.
- Tar.
- Ropes.
- Cordage.
- Chains.
- Corn.
- Stoves.
- Nicknacks.
- Machinery, etc.
- Furs.
- Crockery.
- Indigo.
- Dye stuffs.
- Paints.
- Mirrors.
- Millinery.
- Musical instruments, etc.
- Leather.
- Boots and shoes.
- Lead.
- Paper.
- Do. hangings.
- Tea.
- Books.
- Carriages.
- India rubber.
- Mahogany and rose-wood.
If, then, such is the variety of items, more than sufficient to command the attention of any mercantile community, it is somewhat astonishing that the Americans should not have been attracted to the advantages to be derived from an interchange of commerce, so jealous as they are of commercial supremacy.
The territory is immense, teeming with undeveloped resources; the population over 35 millions of souls to be supplied with the necessities, and many of the superfluities of life. England and France have fought for the freedom of this commerce, America may spread her sails unstained by the blood of her citizens, and be wafted into ports, where treasures and profit are in greater profusion than either in China or Japan.
War having ceased, and so many new and salutary reforms soon to be introduced, commerce and all the arts of peace and prosperity will flourish with renewed vigor upon the Turkish soil. Internal improvements are already projected and in progress, demanding the genius and ingenuity of foreign climes. While then, England and France are eagerly watching every opening, shall America remain blindfolded and indifferent?—a country so productive of men of the rarest energy and perseverance, so full of the brightest Yankee notions, and the most curious and useful specimens of mechanical art and manufactures!
CHAPTER XV.
JURISPRUDENCE.
In Europe and America disputes often involve a process of tedious litigation. It is not so in Turkey; although the Koran and its voluminous commentaries decide every case “from a point of faith to a right of gutter,” yet the form of trial is so simple that it becomes quite expeditious. For all Turkish jurisprudence may be condensed into these two principles, viz.,
1st. In every case of litigation the testimony of two witnesses is required of the plaintiff, and
2d. In default of witnesses an oath is administered to the defendant as the only alternative.
No written document, except judicial, is considered valid, or recognized by the courts, unless it be substantiated by two witnesses.
For instance, a banker had advanced to the treasury about $30,000 on account of a certain pasha, who farmed a province from the government. Before the year was out the pasha died, and the court of chancery taking charge of the estate of the deceased, it became necessary to examine and settle the banker’s account current with the defunct. On examination it was found that the banker had paid to the treasury the above mentioned sum in thirty-three different installments, and received from the deceased only $18,000; so that there was a balance due the banker of $12,000.
But the court of chancery would not recognize the disbursements of the banker in behalf of the deceased, unless each of the installments made by the banker to the government could be substantiated by two witnesses; thus requiring no less than sixty-six witnesses for the case. It was in vain the banker produced the vouchers of the government regularly signed and sealed by the proper authorities. The judges would admit nothing but the requisite witnesses, and in default of such witnesses claimed from the banker the $18,000, the receipt of which was avowed by him, and consequently due to the heirs.
Nor is this mode of justice, primitive as it is, ever used with impartiality.
Witnesses are never subpœnaed by the courts, and no oath is required of them for the truth of their depositions; also on account of the spirit of fanatical animosity which exists mutually between the Christians and Mohammedans, no unbiased testimony is to be procured. Indeed, formerly, the Christians were not even allowed to appear as witnesses.
The judges themselves being men of low birth and grovelling principles, only hold their offices as sources of personal emolument, as the wealth of various of these functionaries fully attests. The late Sheikh-ul Islam, at his death, left the sultan, by bequest, nearly a million of dollars!
Although strictly prohibited by the Koran, they are in the constant habit of receiving bribes to any amount; notwithstanding the precepts of their religion, which are ever and anon held up as barriers to all reform, they are so corrupted, that their consciences are immediately lulled, whenever the requisite bonus is slily slipped under the cushions on which they sit, and the testimony of hired witnesses is then winked at by them, and even supported, as their interest may demand.
The only qualification requisite for a witness to appear before these courts of justice, is to be omniscient, and never to utter the fatal word Bilmem, I don’t know.
When conflicting interests occur, which induce the judges to take side against the witnesses—and such occasions are by no means rare, since justice is not only put up at auction, but a single recommendation from a grandee suffices to turn the scale—the scene is truly farcical, and its sketch worthy of the pen of Dickens himself.
The Kadis adopt a singular method to disqualify the testimony. The questions which are put in the cross-examination, are not only entirely irrelevant to the subject matter in dispute, but would even puzzle the “cutest Yankee” how to answer. Their object is to disqualify the testimony by questions, no matter how ridiculous, but by which the witnesses will be forced at last to utter the ominous word Bilmem—I don’t know.
With a view to ascertain whether the witnesses are well acquainted with the party in whose behalf they are testifying, they are asked, “who was the grandfather of the plaintiff?” The usual and formal answer in such cases is, “Abraham,” meaning the old Patriarch. “His great grandfather?” “Adam,” beyond whom he (the plaintiff), is not supposed to have any ancestors.
On a certain occasion, a judge being very anxious to defeat the testimony of a clever witness, after various ingenious interrogatories, made the quaint inquiry, “who married Adam and Eve?” To which the witness unhesitatingly replied, not, as it may be supposed, “I don’t know,”—oh no, not so stupid as that—but, “I was not invited to the wedding.”
It was a maxim of the government and a profitable one to its employés, that in the administration of justice, a speedy infliction of punishment, even though unjust, was more desirable than a tedious course of litigation, as the fear and awe thus infused into the hearts of the people, rendered them submissive to the most irrational commands, and terrified the mass into a dread of infringing the laws, although some few might suffer unjustly.
This principle, though nominally abandoned by the government, is still maintained by the judiciary; therefore, no pleading by lawyers is allowed, and the sentence is passed with all possible dispatch, or deferred at pleasure, as circumstances may require.
The whole of Turkey is divided into two separate judicial districts, viz., Anadolou, and Roumely, or Asia and Europe, and there is a Kazi-ul-Asker, or chief justice, appointed to each district, who preside over their respective courts.
There, is, however, a supreme court called, Arz-Odassi, or court of appeals, where the Grand Vezir and the Grand Mufty conjointly preside, and there all cases, when appealed, are heard; but the sentences are seldom reversed, as they wish to preserve the decisions of the judiciary courts inviolable. When the injustice is too gross and palpable, a new Ilam or sentence is granted by this court, without any allusion to prior proceedings.
It is true that the people have the right to appeal to his majesty for redress, but as they are invariably referred to this court for reconsideration, justice is seldom rendered to the appellants.
Foreigners are not tried before these courts. If the litigation is between themselves, their cases are tried and settled by their legations; but if with the natives, they are referred to a special court of the ministry of commerce, called Medjlissy-Tidjaret, composed of various merchants both natives and foreigners, and presided over by the Minister of Commerce, or his deputy.
The code by which this body pretends to be governed, is the “Code de Commerce” of Napoleon. How equitably it is applied by them, may easily be perceived.
Imagine some twenty-five or thirty merchants, of different nations and tongues, assembled together in the character of jurors, who not only do not understand a word or syllable that is uttered in their hearing, but often do not even possess the means of communicating their ideas to each other.
The affair brought before them, being unintelligible to most of them, it is generally conducted by the government officials, or some of the members who are fortunate enough to know something of the language, and their decisions imparted to the passive members, who usually give their sanction, taking it for granted that all is right. The consequence is, that if one of the litigants is so happy as to secure the good will and patronage of an acting member, he is sure to come off successfully, no matter how bad his case.
This body, like the other Turkish courts, admits not the pleading by lawyers, for a good and simple reason, that its members being men of business, and ignorant of law and legality, prefer to be governed by their own judgment, and constitute themselves at once, judge, jury, and prosecutors.
The interpreters of the foreign legations, are, however, required by treaty to be present, who not only interpret for the parties, but are bound to defend and protect their fellow citizens, to the best of their ability, and report thereupon to their respective ambassadors. It is to be regretted that the services of these individuals are not always disinterested. Policy sometimes inclines them to side with this serio-comical court, for the sake of keeping on good terms with the officials and its members, and thus maintaining their own reputations at the Porte as emissaries of foreign lands; while at the same time a good opportunity is offered them for the gratification of any personal pique or prejudice against their clients; so that a foreigner may either suffer injustice, or be injurious to the people of the country, without the knowledge of his own ambassador. How true, then, the observation of Lord Stratford, that “the very atmosphere of Turkey is impregnated with venality.”
The costs of lawsuits are always defrayed by the gainer of the cause, as he is supposed to be better able to afford such expenses; but the evident design is to induce people to go to law, since justice is set aside, and every facility afforded by the suborning of witnesses. Even the sentences are so carelessly, nay designedly worded, that at any time flaws may be discovered, and a new trial demanded.
The equity of making the gainer of the cause pay the costs, was ludicrously illustrated in the case of an Arnavout or Albanian, who was accused of stealing a gimlet. When in the presence of the Kadi, he pleaded not guilty. The plaintiff, according to law, was required to substantiate his accusation, by producing two witnesses. The man was in a dilemma, for he had no witnesses to produce; but, as usual, he was relieved from the anxiety, by the prompt offer of those harpies, who linger about mehkemes, or courts of justice, and tender their benevolent services in such emergencies, for certain remuneration.
Moderate as was their demand, the trifling claim not justifying much extra expense, he modestly declined availing himself of this privilege, and pleaded to have no witnesses. The only alternative then for the kadi was to administer the oath to the defendant; which was unhesitatingly complied with; for the Arnavouts are generally noted for their pliable consciences. Thus having been duly sworn, our hero was pronounced the happy gainer of the cause, and requested to pay only the costs, which were ten times more than the value of the article in question.
The Arnavout being somewhat of a speculative genius, after due consideration of the pros and cons, in the case, coolly put his hand in his bosom, and producing the disputed gimlet, threw it at his accuser, saying, “There, have your gimlet, be you the gainer of the cause, and pay the costs!”
As to criminal laws, they cannot be said to exist in Turkey; for this form of justice being based upon the principle of retaliation, or kissass, the prosecution is always on account of the injured party, and not of the government; so that the release of a criminal is at the option of an individual.
CHAPTER XVI.
EDUCATION.
Mohammed, who is the oracle on all subjects, having declared, that “the ink of the learned and the blood of the martyr are equal in the sight of God,” education is not so entirely neglected by his followers, as is generally supposed. It may, in one sense, be considered general; for every parent is obliged to send his children, both male and female, to the schools which are attached to the mosques, and supported by them. At Constantinople there are no less than 396 mektebs, or primary free schools, attended by 22,700 children, both boys and girls. There are six other schools, for more advanced studies, attended by 870 pupils.
The initiatory services to the Elif Bé, literature of the young Moslems, are very imposing. The candidate, blooming with the roses of six short summers, is decked in his best, and in the best of the neighbors’ too; for there is great borrowing of jewelry and rich embroideries, when the parents cannot afford to buy. The young tyro mounts a steed which vies with him in the splendor of its caparison, and with his badge of honor, a beautiful and glittering satchel slung over his shoulder, parades the streets. The children of the school about to be honored by his attendance, are the escort; and the good old hodja, or school-master, leads the train, and the tune, as they wend their way, singing and chanting; the boys and girls vociferating in full chorus, Ameen! Ameen!
When the children of the sultan are about to begin their literary pursuits, the procession and rejoicings are, of course, in proportion to the excelling importance of the royal progeny over all inferior buds of humanity.
The public are thus duly notified, though the instruction of the young sultans is by private masters.
The system of instruction in the Turkish schools is eminently primitive, and the branches taught are very elementary.
They use neither quill nor desk, the peculiarity of the Turkish characters requiring the stiffness of the reed; and the importance attached to calligraphy is so great, that the paper is held on the palm of the hand, in order to give the flexibility requisite for the formation of the letters. The lessons of the children consist of spelling and writing; and the higher studies in committing the Koran to memory. In order to understand this sacred book, they are obliged to learn the grammar, in which proficiency is seldom made. Hence very few, even of the officials, especially of the ancien régime, can read or write correctly, all their correspondence being performed by keatibs, or scribes. The general deficiency of education creates a great demand for men of this profession, whose services are needed for all sorts of letter writing, for petitions, obligatory notes, contracts, etc. These persons are to be found in the court-yards of the mosques, in shops and kahvés near the Porte, and in many other places.
To those who knew not how to affix their own names to any document, a seal not only became a convenient substitute, but the universal style of signature. All the grandees have their mëohurdar, or seal-bearer, and the Sadrazam officiates in this capacity to the sultan.
The common punishment at schools is the world renowned bastinado, or falaka. The apparatus consists of a cylindrical piece of wood, about five feet long, and one inch in diameter. Near the centre of this rod, there is a loop of rope, sufficiently wide to hold both the feet of the truant. The rod being turned the rope winds upon it, and thus secures the feet, which are placed therein. The person is then thrown upon his back, by the raising of the feet, upon the soles of which the blows are applied with a cudgel by the schoolmaster. It is a rather painful operation, as some can tell from sad experience, who, like other boys that are never naughty, had to go through with it in their younger days.
The Turkish, originally Tartar, is at present composed of three different languages, viz: Arabic, Persian, and Tartar, owing to the different people with whom the Turcomans came in contact. The Koran being their fundamental study, the Arabic has become the basis of the language, as the Latin is of the European dialects.
It is written from right to left, like all other Oriental languages, with the exception of the Armenian.
The Turkish has no capitals or Roman letters, but consists of italics—or in other words, the written and printed characters have the same forms, nor have they any punctuation. Their calligraphy may be divided into five different styles.
The Rika, or ordinary hand-writing, the same being used for printing.
Sülüs, or enlarged writing, is used for inscriptions, title-pages, or the headings of chapters.
Divany, or the court script, which is an ornamental style of writing, and only used at the Porte for firmans, or edicts.
Taalik, or the Persian letters, is used in the judiciary courts, and for poetry.
Siyakat, or Turkish hieroglyphics, is only used for treasury bonds.
The Turkish language is, in itself, most copious and expressive, euphonious in sound, and capable of the greatest variety of expression, and is well adapted to the composition of poetry. Although the Osmanlis formerly possessed but little mathematical, philosophical, or scientific learning, the Muses have never denied their inspiration to them. Foreign literature has been much in vogue in latter times, and many translations have been made into Turkish. The languages of Europe are also cultivated to some extent, and many are now to be found at the Porte, who speak the French and English quite fluently.
The present sultan has done much to elevate the system of public instruction in his dominions. He has ordained a council to superintend all educational affairs, and also has commenced the erection of a magnificent public university, opposite the mosque of St. Sophia.
There exist already, the school of the mosque of Ahmed, that of Suleiman, and one founded by the late Validé Sultan, for the education of the young candidates for public offices. There are, also, the medical, normal, and naval schools, and last of all, the agricultural school at San Stefano, the direction of which was, once upon a time, given to the celebrated Turkey Jim, of South Carolina.
The sultan himself is present at the examinations of these various colleges, with his retinue of Ulema, Ministers, and Pashas; his majesty even propounds questions to the pupils, encouraging them by his gracious condescension of manner.
There are as many as 80,000 books in the public libraries, written or printed in the different Oriental dialects, Arabic, Persian, and Turkish. These works treat of history, science, and theology; also belles-lettres, and good breeding, on which last subject, the Osmanlis are extremely punctilious. The young men, and even children, are exceedingly simple and unpretending, but at the same time, intelligent and polite in their demeanor. They maintain a remarkable gravity of deportment, and in the absence of their fathers, exercise the prerogatives of hospitality, with all the dignity of the patriarchs themselves.
There are now twenty-one different newspapers and periodicals in the country, viz. two Turkish, eight Armenian, three Greek, five French, two Italian, and one Jewish.
CHAPTER XVII.
MEDICINE.
Although the ancient Arabs were celebrated for their medical knowledge, the Osmanlis have only of late years made some advances in the study of medicine.
They are most credulous and superstitious in their notions upon this subject, and ready to follow the advice of any empiric in the healing art. They seem to know two diseases peculiar to themselves; one they call Gelinjik, and the other Yelanjik. The first is used in a comprehensive universality and signifies almost any ailment; the second is applied to erysipelas and nervous pains in the face.
The art of curing the Gelinjik has long been possessed by a single family, and descended in hereditary succession from one to another of its members. There is a certain Meriem Kadun of this profession, who once had the good fortune to cure the present sultan, with some of the mysterious red nectar, which is the principal medicine administered for this malady. She has ever since had abundant practice in the royal palace and everywhere else; and the famous Yelanjikgee has a far-famed reputation.
A particular class of Emirs, or the descendants of Fatima, the daughter of Mohammed, are supposed to possess the virtue of healing the nervous diseases of the face called Yelanjik. They wear green turbans, repeat certain prayers over the patient, and are supposed to possess a charm in their fingers’ ends. The Emir lays his thumb on his nose, breathes upon the extended fingers, then lays it upon the forehead of the patient, and pressing upon the nerves of the face, utters a short prayer. Thus he often succeeds in dispelling the malady in a few minutes—whether by his own medical skill or by the credulity of his superstitious patients, may be questioned. Strange to say, their only belief is, that when a cure is not effected, it is not because of the inefficacy of the charmed fingers, but the disease was not genuine Yelanjik, and therefore the holy Emir could not cure it. When any disease fails to be cured by either of these characters, the Gelinjikgee and Yelanjikgee, then in despair the other disciples of the healing art are summoned, of whom there is no scarcity in Constantinople, where the last comer is generally patronized, until some new pretender succeeds him.
A person once exceedingly ill of typhus fever, called in one of these medical gentlemen, who, although he considered the case quite hopeless, prescribed for his patient and took his leave. The next day, in passing by, he inquired of a servant at the door if his master was not dead. “Dead? no. He is much better.” Whereupon the doctor proceeded up stairs to obtain the solution of this miracle. “Why,” said the convalescent, “I was consumed with thirst, and I drank a pailful of the juice of pickled cabbage.”
Wonderful! quoth the doctor—and out came the tablets, whereupon was inscribed, “Cured of typhus fever, Mehemed Agha, an upholsterer, by drinking a pailful of pickled cabbage juice.”
Soon after the worthy doctor was called to another patient, a Yaghlikgee, or dealer in embroidered handkerchiefs, suffering from the same malady. He forthwith prescribed “a pailful of pickled cabbage juice.”
On calling the next day to congratulate his patient on his recovery, he was astonished to be told, the man was dead!
The Oriental Esculapius, in his bewilderment as to these phenomena, came to the safe conclusion, and duly noted it in his memoranda, that, “Although in cases of typhus fever, pickled cabbage juice is an efficient remedy, it is not, however, to be used unless the patient be by profession an upholsterer!”
Fortunately for the community, this branch of science is improving in Turkey, and there are numerous graduates from the medical college, who are employed in the army, and by the inhabitants in general.
CHAPTER XVIII.
WESTERN PREJUDICES, AND EASTERN TOLERATION.
The etiquettes and punctilious ceremonies of society were doubtless unknown in the primitive condition of our race.
Modern civilization has put the world into fetters with its laws and by-laws, which seem the result of some secret combination, as they are generally known only to the initiated, while the less fortunate mass of the communities become the laughing-stock of these wiseacres.
The true politeness and generosity which spring from good feeling and common-sense, are little regarded by the aristocracy of society, unless you have the open sesame to their doors, which is nothing less than an entire conformity to their pre-conceived ideas.
A certain air and style, only perceivable to the critics themselves, is to be maintained; a certain contour of costume rigorously to be adopted, whether agreeable to the wearer or not—an unvaried and monotonous similarity must pervade the whole world, or those venturing to differ, must suffer not only an exclusion from the company of very agreeable people (barring their prejudices), but an absolute persecution of ill-sounding epithets—such as vulgar, conceited, independent, and even the moral character is often libelled.
You must not attend the church of the Rev. ——, unless your hat is black as a stove-pipe, and with a rim of approved dimensions. The fastidious ladies of upper-tendom show symptoms of nervous agitation, as you unwittingly mount their steps in your native head-gear, which may chance to be a sombrero, or a Turkish fess—what if a TURBAN!
The only occasion on which a foreigner might be permitted to appear in his own every-day clothes, would be at some fancy ball, as if in masquerade. All this may do among themselves, but why attempt to renovate the habits of a life-time in others. Indeed, the Americans are very exacting, for when did they ever conform to any other nation’s mode of dress? while the moment you set foot on their shores, you must turn American in toto, or you are no go.
The English are proverbial for their snobbism, and stiff shirt-collars—yet in London, you may meet the Hindostanee in his white robes and turban, the Turk in his fess or red cap, and many others, as they are accustomed to be at home. Still more common is this variety in Paris, and all over Europe.
Americans, English, and French, traverse the East dressed as they like, without creating either the sensation of disgust or astonishment in the beholders. Why, then, this illiberality in the land of freedom? why force the Chinese, the moment they land, into straight-jackets, or crown the Osmanli with a sombre stove-pipe, the most uncouth machine, yclept the hat, which ever any sensible people ventured to place in so honorable a position.
Nolens volens, the Osmanli, on his arrival in the land of “Independence,” must needs become a Pasha of two tails, reversed however, as at home these emblems of rank are carried before him; but now he becomes his own standard-bearer, parading his honors and entrée to the fashionable world, in the shape of the time-honored dress coat.
To those who have never visited foreign lands, one would suppose, nothing would be more entertaining than to see an exhibition of habits and customs of other peoples.
But we must take the world as it is.
Although the manners and dress of the Orientals were, and are still, in many respects very different from those of their western neighbors, yet they have displayed a degree of civilization, if we may so speak, in their toleration of others as they chanced to meet them. English, Spanish, Italians, Magiars, Greeks, Albanians, Croats, Bulgarians, Persians, Kurds, and Arabs, walk their streets and enter their houses without dreaming of changing their costume, or disguising their own nationality under any garb whatever.
Even the European or American travellers, making half-way attempts at external conformity to those about them, although they become perfect caricatures, have free scope to sport the travesties they make of themselves, and are even treated with civility; yet, judging from appearances, no one could conceive what parts of the world might claim the honor of their nativity.
Indeed, the only occasion upon which we remember the Turks to have taken umbrage at the European costume, was some time ago, when visitors desired to present themselves before his imperial highness, their ideas of decency compelled them to furnish each one with a long pelisse. So far have they yielded their prejudices, as even to adopt the European military and undress costume, only excluding the hat; though not without a struggle, as was exemplified when Sultan Mahmoud ordered the janissaries to doff their cumbersome head-gear, flowing robes, and ample trowsers.
But alas for the robes and turbans! the cashmere girdles, and yellow slippers! they are rapidly passing away. The audience-hall of the Grand Signor, is now filled with an ordinary assemblage—the sultan and his minister are stripped of the mysterious appendages of their gorgeous draperies—beneath which, there seemed to breathe no common soul. How imposing the garb, as they were wont to stand in the august presence, immovable, impenetrable; each with his majesty of mien, flowing beard, and portentous silence.
We have seen a fac-simile of an ancient court, or, as it was scarce thirty years ago, in the days of the father of the present sultan.
Mahmoud was seated on his throne upon an elevated platform; an immense turban composed of innumerable folds of the purest and finest white muslin covered his royal head, in the front of which was placed a magnificent spray of brilliants; his robes of rich silk, were confined by a girdle of Cashmere’s softest and richest fabrics, while over his shoulders hung a magnificent pelisse, lined throughout with the best of Russia’s sables. Behind him stood his numerous pages, all young, blooming, and beardless as the fairest maidens, arrayed in robes of delicate tints.
The Silahdar holding his majesty’s sword upright, stood on the right hand, while the Haznadar, or Lord Steward, was upon the other side of the sultan.
The Ak-agha, or chief of the white eunuchs, was behind the chair, an old, woman-like man, beardless and wrinkled. In the group were the imperial cup bearer, Kahvegee Bashi, coffee server, Kaftan-aghassi, gentlemen of the wardrobe, etc.
Below the platform, and in front of the sultan, stood in respective rank, the different ministers of the realm, all robed to the feet in rich and varied hues, and no two turbans alike. They seemed, indeed, to be the movers and arbitrary controllers of the destinies of a vast nation, the secret springs which kept the machine in motion.
A most interesting collection of illustrative models from life, is carefully preserved at Constantinople, called the Elbisseyi Atiké, and exhibited at the great square of At Meydan, or the ancient Hippodrome, near St. Sophia. It is wonderfully true to nature, and typical of Eastern life, recalling those very characters with their various avocations, who but a few years ago were all upon the scene, enacting the very reality of Orientalism.
The different grades of life, the officers under government, civil, religious, and military, the various trades and callings, and individuals of both sexes were formerly, each and all, designated by a peculiar style and appearance. The janissaries were also habited in various costumes, according to their ranks and employments.
Such was the past magnificence of Turkey, now rapidly losing its former type of varied external beauty, as it merges from day to day in the great stream of civilization.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE SULTAN AND HIS PERSONNEL.
Rousseau has wisely observed, “Il faut étudier la société par les hommes, et les hommes par la société,” and as the tone of society in all countries is derived from the courts and the wealthy, so also in Turkey, the sultan and his court are the model of domestic life and its institutions.
Sultan Abd-ul Medjid Khan, the Padishah of the Osmanlis, or the reigning monarch of Turkey, was born May 6th, 1822, and succeeded his father Sultan Mahmoud, July 1st, 1839, at the age of seventeen.
He has a brother and a sister, both younger than himself.
His brother, Aziz Efendi, lives in the same palace with him, having apartments therein for his own use and accommodation.
His sister Adilé Sultan, who is married to Mehmed Aali Pasha, the ex-Grand Vezir, resides in a separate palace on the Bosphorus.
The sultan has until now had nine children, two girls and seven boys, but none of his children will succeed him while his brother is living; for the law of the country requires that the eldest living male member of the Imperial family shall ascend the throne.
The ceremony of the coronation consists simply in escorting the new sultan in a state procession, to a particular mosque at Eyoub, at the northern extremity of the city, where he girds on the sword of state after suitable prayers, and is thus constituted Padishah.
The Princes Regent of Turkey, were formerly shut up at a place called Kafes or Cage, within the old Seraglio, where they were watched and closely guarded, and never allowed to go abroad—with a view to avoid intrigue or civil commotion. But Sultan Mahmoud first broke the unsocial chains of ancient usages; his successor has nobly followed in his father’s footsteps, and allows his brother liberty to go out when he wishes, but not without a formal application for permission, which is enjoined upon him by court etiquette.
The two brothers differ very materially from each other, in temperament and character. The sultan is of a mild and affable disposition, and so willing and yielding is he on matters of state to please his people, that he is more ready to be governed than to govern. His brother, on the contrary, is very stern and passionate, and has the same determined character as his father.
Abd-ul-Medjid is of medium stature, rather delicately formed. His eyes are dark and heavy in expression, with lofty and arched eye-brows; his beard and moustaches of a dark auburn hue, are carefully trimmed and completely conceal the expression of his lower features.
His complexion is very pallid, and his whole air decidedly nonchalant.
On all state occasions he appears in public on horseback, wearing the national fess, ornamented with the royal aigrette in brilliants.
His short Spanish cloak falls in graceful folds around his person, the collar of which is also adorned with diamonds. In a word, his lofty carriage and beautifully caparisoned steed quite realize the picturesque ideas generally conceived of an Eastern monarch.
He never salutes any one in public or private, save by a single glance of his eye.
His favorite residence is the palace of Tchiraghan on the European shore of the Bosphorus, a few miles from the city.
In order to accommodate the numerous and peculiar retinue of an Osmanli sovereign, there is a similarity in the internal arrangements of all the royal residences.
These palaces, like all other Osmanli houses, are divided into two compartments; the first is called the Selamluk or the place of salutation, and is appropriated to the men; the second is the Harem, which belongs exclusively to the ladies. Between these two are the apartments of the sultan, called Mabeyn.
The personnel of a sultan formerly consisted of many functionaries. Their number has of late been much reduced, though they are still very numerous.
The principal honorary officer is the Silahdar or Imperial sword-bearer, whose office being a sinecure, he only enters the presence when specially summoned, or to make some official reports.
Those who are in the most constant communication with the sultan, are his own Sir-Kiatibs, private secretaries, and the Mabeyngys, or chamberlains, and he is always attended by one or two of the latter, when he goes out. These gentlemen having the private ear of his majesty, there is constant intrigue among the different political parties to ensure their patronage, as the easiest means of access to his sublime highness.
The Enderoun Aghalery, or gentlemen of the royal household, are young men selected from among the slaves, and also from the families of the citizens. They are trained from their earliest years to the usages of the palace, and receive an education suited to their prospective career. When they are fitted for attendance upon his imperial majesty, they become Itch-Oghlans, or pages of the presence, and perform the duties of cup-bearer, towel-bearer, gentlemen of the wardrobe, and slippers, pipe and coffee bearers, ushers, etc. They are many of them distinguished for their elegance of manner and intelligence.
From the rank of pages they are afterwards promoted to be chamberlains, and often even attain the dignity of Müshirs, or Ministers of State. The present Ministers Riza Pasha, and Mehmed-Aali Pasha, the brother-in-law of the sultan, were both Mahmoud’s pages.
The mutes are as indispensable as any of the palace attendants; when the Grand Vezir goes alone, or in company with the Grand Mufty, to the Imperial chamber, all the Mabeyngys and the Enderoun Aghalery withdraw, and the deaf mutes remain in attendance.
As on no occasion, not even during a grand council, when they deliberate with closed doors, the Osmanlis can dispense with their attendants, mutes are always very necessary appendages to them, both at the palace and the Porte.
Although they have not the sense of hearing nor the faculty of speech, they possess a remarkable quickness of comprehension, and have a great tact in communicating their ideas, even to the divulging of state secrets to their intimate friends and favorites.
They were formerly the executioners of the palace; no reason can be assigned for their holding such an office, unless, being deaf and dumb, they were not qualified to hear and pity the unfortunate victims.
There are also generally one or two dwarfs in the royal retinue, who are a sort of court jesters. There is one now at the palace, who became a very distinguished character during the reign of Mahmoud.
On one occasion, when the sultan was in high glee, he summoned this man of small pretensions to the harem. His majesty wishing to test his ingenuity, proposed to him, that if he could kiss any one of those girls (pointing to a group of tall and beautiful Circassian slaves in attendance), he should have that very one for his wife.
At this novel and unexpected intimation, Sir Paynim raised his eyes to survey the bewitching circle, apparently so far beyond his reach. But such a chance could not be lost; at all hazards, he boldly advanced to one of the fairest, and while she looked down upon him in dismay, gave her tangible proofs of his attachment by a tremendous blow on her stomach.
As she almost doubled with pain, her pigmy lover seized her around the neck, imprinted his first kiss of love, and gained the royal prize by this coup de main.
At the threshold of the Mabeyn, you will meet the Enderoun Aghalery, or the gentlemen of the household; passing by these personages, you ascend the stairway, and enter a large hall. On all sides are many curtained doorways, at one of which two guards are stationed. These are the Perdegys, or curtain keepers to his majesty.
The peculiarity of their domestic habits, viz., the ladies occupying separate apartments, leaves the entire Selamluk free and accessible to all. Hence the necessity, when wishing to be retired, of having curtains suspended to the doorways, and guards stationed to prevent the abrupt encroachment of visitors and strangers.
The personal vanity of the Osmanlis is such, that no occasion is neglected for its gratification, and munificence is always the concomitant of rank and distinction; therefore the slightest service is invariably compensated by a remuneration, technically called bakshish. The keahyā at the landing, who holds your cayik while you disembark, or the ostler who holds your horse, the pabouchjy, who officiously arranges your slippers as you leave the house, with the whole household retinue of obsequious attendants, one and all expect the customary bakshish.
So universal is this practice, that the grander the establishment, the lower are the wages of the servants, who are sure to reap so good a harvest from the numerous visitors, that they willingly compound for the most trifling salaries; indeed, it may justly be said, that the grandees support each other’s menials.
This system pervades all classes of the people, and even the palace of the sultan.
An amusing story is told illustrative of the way in which these Perdegys make their post available.
One of these guards seemed to be enjoying such extensive revenues from his office, that he was reported to his majesty in a very ludicrous manner.
A certain wit, by name Indjyly-Tchavoush, a sort of an Oriental Curran, occasionally used to visit the sultan; but never without paying tribute to these keepers of the curtain.
Nettled at these exactions, and wishing to attract his majesty’s attention to the subject, he one day entered the royal presence with a large mackerel, the commonest fish in Turkey, in his hand, as a present. The sultan was struck with the oddity of the gift, and supposing that the expectations of the donor could only be realized by some royal munificence, asked, “What he desired in return?”
“Only 500 lashes, sire,” was the prompt reply. This reply added to his majesty’s astonishment, “and why so strange a request?” he demanded.
“Because, since, I am obliged to share all your majesty’s gifts with your majesty’s curtain keepers, I wish the rogues to have their share in this also!”
Judging from your benevolent countenance, that you are endowed with generous impulses, the keepers allow you to pass within the curtained door. You are now in a large apartment, on three sides of which are windows, with a wide Turkish sofa at the end, some two feet high from the floor, where the sultan is seated entirely alone, with a desk and implements of writing before him, and a long and graceful chibouk, mounted with a splendid amber mouth-piece ornamented with diamonds, carelessly lying by his ride. He utters the simple word, Gel! come! when several attendants appear as if by magic, and stand before him with folded hands. At every command they make the temennah, or Turkish salutation, which is done, not by bending the person, and bringing their arms over their heads, as though they were going to dive, as is often represented in theatres, but simply by raising the right hand to the mouth, the fingers touching the lips, then the right temple, and then carelessly dropping it down. This temennah is performed without uttering a single word, and signifies perfect comprehension of the royal orders.
An air of humility is always maintained in the presence of superiors, and such signs of active existence, as coughing or sneezing, are quite unallowable. The person feeling preliminary symptoms of these actions, being obliged either to suppress them, or to withdraw from the presence. Indeed the social etiquettes are very strict, even among equals. Although tobacco is introduced on occasions of ceremony and social intercourse—the chibouk and nargillé are not the calumets of peace, but of hospitality—the disagreeable concomitants of the weed so universal in America, are absolutely unknown in Turkey.
Spitting, then, is to the Osmanlis a most repulsive act, and their horror may be imagined when, on a certain occasion, while in the company of a grandee of the realm, the representative of the great American nation (the New World), deliberately took his quid from his pocket, and after cutting the requisite morsel, stored it carefully in the corner of his mouth, and commenced the slow mastication so characteristic of good tobacco chewers! The indulgence of such a luxury having only made his excellency’s mouth water, and there being no other accommodation at hand, in order to relieve his salivary glands, he was obliged to aim at an open window close by!
His excellency, consequently, became a sort of a proverb among them, and the question was repeatedly asked, “Does your American friend still continue to enact the camel, or does he not weary of chewing the cud?” Unlearned in classic lore, how should they know that the poet once said—
“Tu tantum erucis imprime dentem.”
No one is ever seated in the presence of the sultan, nor are any of the customary rites of hospitality observed; such as the introduction of pipes, coffee, sherbet, etc.
On the presentation of foreign ambassadors, the ceremony is so arranged, that the minister plenipotentiary and his sublime highness, enter the apartment simultaneously by opposite doors; thus the sultan receives the representatives of foreign potentates on foot, without condescending to rise from his seat.
After the audience is terminated, the royal guests are conducted into the apartment of the Mabeyngys, where they are treated with true Oriental hospitality and munificence.
Those persons who are not aware of the wonderful changes that have taken place in Turkey, may fancy this monarch to be surrounded by a group of robed, turbaned, and bearded Osmanlis; on the contrary, both the sultan and his attendants now wear a European military frock coat and pantaloons, with only the national fess for a head-dress.
The moustache is universally worn, and it would seem as ridiculous to an Osmanli to shave the eyebrows as the upper-lip. Indeed, nothing excites the curiosity of the rising generation so much, as to see a man without a moustache; especially an aged man, in whose case, it would seem to them like an attempt at perpetual youth.
There is not a beard to be seen on any of the attendants of the palace, for the beard is considered in Turkey as a mark of dignity and freedom; consequently, no one in the personal service of the sultan is allowed this honor, except by special permission of his majesty; which implies, that the individual is no longer retained in the palace, but soon to be elevated to some superior office. The beard, then, being indicative of rank and position, it is preserved with a certain superstitious reverence; no Mussulman, therefore, after the ceremony of allowing the beard to grow has been once performed, ever again uses the razor; nevertheless it is not permitted to assume the natural growth, but is carefully trimmed according to the fashion of modern times.
Abd-ul-Medjid makes his appearance in the Mabeyn, early in the morning; for it is a universal custom with the Osmanlis to rise early. He generally spends his mornings in the perusal of local and foreign newspapers, which are translated for him, and other general reading.
He has lately acquired a taste for the French language, in which he has made considerable progress. He is, according to the Turkish acceptance of the term, well-educated; that is, well versed in Turkish belles-lettres, with a general acquaintance with the history of his own country.
The science of mathematics has also engrossed some of his attention, and he even condescended to receive instructions from Etem Pasha, a young man of distinguished abilities and foreign education, who was taken into the royal retinue as colonel of the body-guards; doubtless, however, with reference to his scientific acquirements.
His majesty’s meals, according to the custom of the country, are two; one in the morning between ten and eleven, the other at sunset. They are served by the Tcheshnigear, whose duty it is to break the seals of the different dishes intended for the sultan’s repast, and after having tasted, to carry them into the royal presence.
Although the Osmanlis are great epicures, their tastes are very singular. Their dishes are very diversified and numerous, consisting usually of twelve or fifteen, and sometimes even thirty courses; sweet and meat dishes being introduced in alternate succession; the meal commencing with soup, and ending with pilaf, or a preparation of rice peculiar to Turkey. They have a species of pastry or paklava, which is remarkably light and delicious; and the mohalleby, or Turkish blanc-mange, is much liked, even by Europeans. Fruit, at Constantinople, is very abundant and delicious, and is partaken of frequently during a repast. Indeed, the grapes of Scutari, called Tchavoush, are unrivalled, and even more delicious and delicate than those of Madeira or Malaga.
The order in which a dinner is served is as follows: soup, kebab (or roast meat in small pieces), entremet (or vegetables and meat cooked together), pastry, roast, fish, entremet, mohalleby, entremet, maccaroni, fowls, jelly, etc., until at last it winds up with the significative pilaf and sherbet, or hosh-ab.
No wine or liquor is served at the table, but his sublimity occasionally during the day visits the pantry, doubtless, “for his stomach’s sake, and his often infirmities.” Unfortunately, modern civilization has some vices as well as many virtues; and the fashion of excessive drinking, has, among others, lately crept into Turkey, to which some of the élégants are becoming much addicted, and, ere long, they may, perhaps excel even the paragon, John Bull.
Although many other innovations and attempts at reform have succeeded in Turkey, yet the original style of eating has not been much improved. They use neither chairs nor tables; but a low stool being put in the middle of the room, a large circular copper tray is placed upon it.
No such paraphernalia as cloths, napkins, knives, forks, plates, glasses, etc., are essential; small loaves of bread, alternately with small dishes of fruit, pickles, anchovies, cheese, etc., are indiscriminately scattered around the edges of the tray, in the middle of which the different preparations of food are successively placed by the ayvaz or scullion, and the food is eaten with the fingers, excepting the liquid dishes, for which wooden spoons are provided. Around the tray, the company assemble, sitting with their legs under them, and all eating from the dish in the middle; reminding us of the customs of ancient times, when it was said, “It is one of the twelve who dippeth with me in the dish.”
One long, narrow napkin is provided, which goes all round the tray, and lies upon the floor; each person slipping under it as he sits down.
Their tables being accessible to their friends at all times, dinner-parties are never given, except on state occasions; for, hospitality being one of the characteristics of the East, and especially enjoined by the Koran, no one is excluded from their board; and when the number present is so large as not to allow them to sit comfortably, they place themselves side-wise, or in a sort of spoon fashion, as though they were leaning upon one another, and thus illustrating the scene at the feast of the Passover.
In some of the houses of the wealthy, and especially of those whose owners have visited Europe, the European mode of eating is imitated, when the motley company, which is always assembled, sometimes presents a most ludicrous scene.
Once, a Turk at such a table, wishing to conform to the customs of civilized life, endeavored to use the fork. Failing in several attempts to take a piece of meat, and determined to overcome his gaucherie, he resolutely took hold of the morsel with his fingers, and placing one end of the fork against his breast, stuck the meat upon it with an immense effort, and then carried it to his mouth, quite contented with his own success, amid the applause of the company. During the sacred month of Ramazan, however, the European mode of eating is never practised, even by the most enlightened and liberal. Knives, forks, tables and chairs, are then altogether set aside, as being too profane.
His majesty usually breakfasts at the Mabeyn, and always quite alone; for no one being equal to him, none can have the honor of his company; and his evening repast is often taken, weather permitting, at some beautiful watering-place.
The time between these two meals is usually occupied with some of his ministers, or the audiences of the foreign ambassadors, and in excursions on the Bosphorus or elsewhere.
Whatever transpires at the Porte, is reported to him every evening, through the Ameddjy, or state chancellor, expressed in the most beautiful and elegant style of which the Turkish language is capable. In fact, the bureau of the Ameddjy is considered the best school for polite literature, and those who have once served in that department, invariably acquire a remarkable elegance of diction. The sultan reads over these documents every evening, together with the Arzou-hals, or petitions, which are presented to him on Fridays; and after giving his imperial sanction or veto, returns them to the Porte, to be acted upon accordingly.
The approval of the sultan is not expressed by the application of any royal seal or cypher, but by a bold stroke of his majesty’s reed, representing the Arabic letter S, which is termed sah, meaning correct or approved. And those which are rejected are torn in one corner.
The sultan’s cipher, called Toora, is formed from the names of the reigning monarch, and that of his father. It reads thus, “Sultan Abd-ul-Medjid, son of Sultan Malmoud Khan, the sultan of sultans.” This is the imperial seal, and Ottoman coat of arms, and it is affixed to all royal edicts, engraved upon public buildings, and stamped upon the various current coins of the empire.
When his evening occupations are over, the sultan retires to the harem.
Such is the ordinary routine of the life of the Turkish sovereign; but there are also many other public duties which occupy his time and attention, and fully demonstrate that the post of sultan is by no means a sinecure.
CHAPTER XX.
PUBLIC DUTIES OF THE SULTAN.
The sultan is obliged to attend one of the public mosques in person every Friday, which is the Mohammedan Sunday. One reason of his public appearance is to set an example of religious devotion; another, to assure the people by his actual presence, that he is in the enjoyment of life and health; and a third, to give an opportunity to any of his discontented subjects to appeal to him in person; for, the right of appeal has never been denied in Turkey. This is done by a paper, which is held in the extended hand of the petitioner, and presented anywhere in the course of the royal route.
It is received by his pages and reserved for the future perusal of his majesty. His departure, both from the palace and the mosque, is announced by a royal salute of 21 guns from the batteries, and the ships of war.
These opportunities are eagerly embraced by all strangers who wish to gaze on the great “Tamer of Infidels and the scourger of the unbelieving race of Christian vassals.” There are two other great state festivals, on which occasions the sultan and the whole of the royal retinue combine to present one of the most beautiful Oriental pageants.
These are the feasts of Bairam, one of which occurs at the end of Ramazan or the long fast, and the other the Courban Bairam, or feast of the sacrifice, sixty-eight days after.
There is a grand state procession. Surrounded by his numerous pages in uniforms glittering with golden embroidery and plumed head-dresses, attended by dignitaries of the realm in full court dress, all mounted on Arabian steeds, splendidly caparisoned, the sultan enters the mosque of Sultan Ahmed at the ancient Hippodrome. He alights upon a velvet carpeting, which extends into the mosque, and is supported on each side by chamberlains.
As he dismounts, the voice of the assembled multitude proclaims “Allah Padishahumuza Oozoon eömürler versin,” Long live the king—God bless the sultan.
The Padishah after the performance of prayers, returns to his palace at the Seraglio Point, where the throne room is always preserved. There he receives the compliments of the season from his ministers and officers of state.
The procession to the mosque being public, has been described by many who have witnessed it; but from the reception at the palace all foreigners are excluded.
The sultan is seated on a chair of state, with the princes and younger princesses of the royal blood on each side.
Behind the throne, in a semicircle, stand the personnel of the royal household.
Opposite the throne, at the farthest end of the hall, a band of musicians is stationed, and as they perform the national airs, the dignitaries enter the royal presence according to their respective ranks, to pay homage to their sovereign.
As has already been described, the usual mode of salutation in the east is the temennah, made by touching the hand to the lips and then to the forehead, which signifies affection and humility. With the desire, however, to be more respectful, they often bend down to the ground, as if willing to take up the very dust upon which the honored feet have rested, or attempt to kiss the hem of the garment. But all these ordinary modes of salutation are insufficient at a royal reception; when a beautifully embroidered rug is spread before the sultan, on one end of which his feet rest.
As they present themselves, they slowly bend their persons and touch their lips and foreheads to the border of the carpet, which ceremony is called the kissing of the sultan’s feet; for, no one is allowed any actual proximity to the royal person—thus guarding him from the assassin’s dagger.
After kissing the end of the carpet they arrange themselves in two opposite lines on each side of the sultan, to witness the homages of the various pashas and other dignitaries. Those who take their stand in the presence are only the heads of the departments, both civil and religious.
After the ceremony is over, every one retires to hit own dwelling, to enact the sultan to his subordinates.
The Courban Bairam is the great festival celebrated by the pilgrims at Mecca, in commemoration of the offering up of Ishmael; and is generally observed throughout the Mohammedan dominions,—on which occasion every Mussulman must kill a sheep with his own hand, and distribute the meat to the poor.
The sultan performs this sacrifice at his own palace before the morning prayers. As he stands at the threshold, a ram with gilded horns is laid at his feet, and girding himself with a silken towel, he completes the sacrifice.
The solution of this act of devotion is, that they believe that the faithful will be transported over the surat or bridge of hair into paradise on the backs of these immolated victims.
The old seraglio, which was the residence of so many sultans, and the scene of the aggrandizement and downfall of so many good Mussulmans; under whose latticed windows the Bosphorus flows so deeply as to tell no tales of the hundreds of living and beautiful maidens that have perished in the blue waves and left no sign of their sad fate—the bloody and mysterious seraglio is now deserted, save on such occasions as have been described—notwithstanding travellers’ assertions to the contrary.
How many of the royal blood, even sultans themselves, within this time-worn palace, have either drained the insidious and poisoned potion, or been dispensed with by the surer cord, or assassin’s dagger!
The last victim was Sultan Mustafa, or the uncle of the present monarch; and Mahmoud himself was miraculously preserved by the attachment and perseverance of his lala or eunuch, who concealed him in the fire-place of the bath, until the fury of the mob had subsided—thus saving him, whom Allah had reserved for the proud distinction of being the savior and regenerator of his country.
No wonder, then, that the sultans of later times have recoiled from such associations and built for themselves other palaces on the bright and smiling shores of the “ocean stream.”
Abd-ul-Medjid has just erected a magnificent residence opposite the entrance to the Marmora, the palace of Dolma Bahché.
CHAPTER XXI.
ROMANCE OF THE EAST.
The ordinary course of events, the humdrum monotonous tinkling of life’s daily and ever recurring necessities, is wearisome to the soul. There is a longing for variety; the love of the marvelous craves wherewith to slake its thirst, the imagination seeks its food, and the beautiful, in fancy or reality, must sometimes minister its soothing charms. Anything to escape from the physical, cumbersome part of our nature, into the world of romance and visionary exultation. War and its glory, its sudden vicissitudes of victory and defeat, its brilliant arms and thundering voices excite the most thrilling emotions in the bosoms of care-worn mortals. Love, with its gentle wooing, its kind sympathies, and tender ministry, comes to the heart, sick of itself, as the very balm of Gilead. Religion calls the crushed and bleeding spirit to an unseen world, where fancy may luxuriate in realms of ethereal anticipations, anon to become the realities of Faith, as the soul is discharged from its mortal tenement.
It is, under any guise, a blissful attribute, this ability to soar out of life’s dullness, into scenes of imaginary hope and brightness: to escape from the real into the unreal, whether to deeds of heroic valor, whose charm consists in the extravagance of the excitement, or to linger in the enchantments of a tender passion, or to listen to the tales of others’ woes or joys: all these kindle up the enthusiasm of the soul. But is there ever any reality to what may be termed romance?
If, as some would fain have us believe, the very objects which seem so tangible to our senses, are no realities, what then of the vagaries of the imagination? The moment you reduce the most thrilling incident to mere matter of fact, or divest it of the garb in which fancy ever delights to clothe its objects, the romance loses its charm. The more remote the scene, the more unfettered by conventionalities the actors, the more bewitching the tale of their adventures, and the more impossible the achievements, the better prized. Even the aid of genii and fairies wonderfully helps on this love of the marvelous. What was Aladdin’s lamp more than any other old piece of copper ore, until the slave of the lamp suddenly appeared. There has ever hung over the East, a veil of mystery; it may be from the warmth of the Oriental imagination and its own extravagant creations, or from the seclusiveness of the women, who, as they became unfamiliar objects, seemed to be the very Venuses and Peris of the world of fable. The reserve of the men themselves, leaving their better halves to an obliviousness from all the world, is calculated to excite the curiosity of the community at home, and the rest of the world abroad, and to invest the fair sex with most improbable charms. The difficulty and imminent danger of a single interview, excites the love of adventure. Tottering old crones, themselves the genuine antidotes to all passion, point with their bony fingers to the penetralia, where a goddess in human form enshrines her charms. Even a transformation takes place, a new complexion is produced, feminine draperies and a basket of wares, and you pass the unsuspecting and smooth-faced guardian of the portal. You love to linger in the sweetly perfumed halls, to toy with the beautiful Circassian, as she listlessly lounges on her silken couch; you love even the sense of danger, as you start at every step, and again relax into forgetfulness of the external world. But sometimes there is a sequel; you fly for life; your lovely companion bares her neck to the bow-string, her beautiful form enters the mystic veil of the lost woman; the coarse and heavy sack, her coffin—her grave the blue and briny wave of the ocean stream.
All this is wild, romantic, thrilling, and tragic. But how rare the occurrence; and of the multitude of adventure-loving, romance-seeking beings that people earth’s surface, to whose lot shall we assign the realization? All dream; but how few wake to the vision in life’s action. All fancy; but when does not the broad sunshine of earth’s glare dispel the wreathed and mistlike draperies of imagination. The ideal has an existence only in the “mind’s eye.”
There is, then, no more romance in the East than elsewhere; indeed there is even more of natural life divested of all extravagance of fiction. The very lack of education, which, in some respects, is certainly to be lamented, tends to fasten their hearts together, in the bonds of nature’s best affections. Home has joys enough for their simple souls; so entirely devoid of that refined selfishness, which in other lands seems to annihilate those sweet provisions for kindred sympathies, which arise from the reciprocal affinities of parent and child, brother and sister. There is little food then for morbid imaginations, but much for natural pleasures and simple tastes. The very externals of Orientalism are making their exit from the world’s scene; soon there will not exist even the illusion of characteristic and graceful forms. Ere long we shall realize, that, divested of form and coloring, of tinsel and decoration, the descendants of the great common ancestor of the human race, are all alike in feature, nature, and spirit.
Indeed a general acquaintance with the different tribes and nations under heaven only serves to convince the cosmogonist, that all are of one family, have a common nature or origin, are but human, and liable to human frailties and passions. The most powerful emotions are felt in the bosoms of the savage and the polite. Ambition, love, hatred, revenge, and a like train of absorbing impulses, rule and sway wherever man has planted his footsteps. But how interesting to mark the influence of circumstances, to define the latitudes and longitudes of ideas and actions, to measure the rise and fall of the thermometer of life, according to the various climes on earth’s broad surface, to feel the pulse of the dissenting creeds and dogmas, in a word, to observe the same faculties under such varied culture.
In comparing the different grades of education and civilization, it is curious to observe how often an innate refinement of feeling equals, if not supersedes, the greatest efforts of cultivation, or the brightest results of philosophy. A lifetime spent in the schools often leaves the man far behind one, whose early years have passed in shrewd observation, and practical experience, for while the one is reasoning, abstracting, ruminating, the other experiments, and lo! he enters the very penetralia of the temple of wisdom. And where do we find the most susceptible hearts, the most poetical fancies, the purest aspirations of nature? Not among the dry and tutored reasoners of civilization, but where the mind of man has been untrammeled by rules and etiquettes, forms and ceremonies.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE HAREM.
We cannot deny that habit is second nature—the axiom holds good in every form of social existence; yet there is a universal disposition to mutual criticism and condemnation, whether between nations or neighbors. There is always the vibrating why and wherefore, and each, approves his own course of action, without ceding to others the same privilege.
There is no doubt that the peculiar style of the toilet of the Turkish ladies would be deprecated by the belles of modern Christendom. Indeed, we have often heard these fastidious dames exclaim, in regarding representations of their Eastern rivals, “most horribly indecent,” while they turned their sensitive vision from the offenders against all delicacy. And, on the other hand, we have heard the Osmanli Hanums and Efendis express equal honor at the sight of a European lady, en costume de bal.
When the Marchioness of Londonderry presented herself at the palace of the sultan, en grand tenue for a reception, the gentlemen in waiting could scarcely persuade themselves to conduct her ladyship into the royal presence, so astonished were they at the display of the fair neck, shoulders, etc.
Both the Western and Eastern toilets may be styled décolletées, the one a horizontal, the other a longitudinal display of charms. But one thing may be said in favor of the Orientals, that they never appear in public without covering their necks and bosoms, and even veiling their features; they are only permitted to appear uncovered at home, and even then only in the presence of their nearest relatives. On the contrary, on the most public occasions, at the operas, balls, soirées, and many other grand assemblies, do the Western décolletées delight to vie with each other in their various styles of full dress; they are even so fastidious as to have no nomenclature but ankles, while they willingly pay their dollars to see a full extension of these same ankles on the stage.
The Turkish ladies with perfect indifference present their unslippered and even unhosed feet to any shop-boy, at the same time carefully concealing their shalvar, or full trowsers, which are fastened below the knee, and tucked up whenever they sally forth for a promenade à pied ou en voiture.
As to the intrinsic merit or real modesty of these different styles, peculiar tastes and prevailing modes can only decide; for habit is strong in its sway, and imitation is a kindred principle. Therefore, there is neither vice nor virtue in walking in the footsteps of our predecessors, or each man or woman adopting the peculiar modes and customs of their own people. As fertile a brain may throb beneath a turban as a hat, as pure a form enshroud itself in a modest veil as lurks beneath the shadow of a Parisian bonnet. What are externals but whims and caprices; it is the virtue of domestic institutions and daily habitudes that stamps the character of a people.
European or American ladies may grace their boudoirs, models of beauty and excellence, and Turkish Hanums may, by the exercise of domestic virtues, equally adorn and ennoble the precincts of their Harems.
The word Harem is familiar to most persons, but how grossly misunderstood. Some have considered it as unmentionable to ears polite; while the votaries of pleasure, ever ready to indulge their longing fancies, have pictured it to themselves as the earthly realization of the Paradise of Mohammed. Indeed many European authors in describing the licentious and corrupted courts of their own monarchs, have seemed to consider this term as the most distinguishing compendium of immorality.
Strange perversion, that the very word which inspires every Oriental, whether Mohammedan or Christian, with the greatest respect, should suggest to the mind of a European only a system of concubinage and licentiousness.
What then is Harem?
One peculiarity in the construction of society in its primitive condition was that might makes right. This not only affected personal property, but even the more domestic relations. If an enemy strong enough felt the inclination, he might rob his neighbor of his wife or family, of which there are instances on Biblical record.
To avoid any occasions of such unjust appropriation, it became a policy to seclude the women from general observation.
The unbounded hospitality of those good old days when the worthy patriarchs lived with open doors, and good cheer; when the three virtues which made a man distinguished, were bravery, eloquence, and hospitality, or in the hyperbole of the times, a sharp sword, a sweet tongue, and forty tables; in such an era of benevolence it became necessary to separate the more precious and defenseless portion of the family from the vulgar gaze.
The seclusion of women, then, has ever been one of the greatest social peculiarities of the East, and does not date its origin from modern times, nor even from the foundation of the Moslem faith. In some forms, it existed in the times of the ancient Jews; for, when Rebecca lifted up her eyes and saw Isaac, who had gone out to meditate in the field at even tide, she said unto the servant, “What man is this, who walketh in the field to meet us?” and the servant said, “It is my master, therefore she took a veil and covered herself.”
“The mother of Sisera looked out at a window, and cried through the lattice.”
The same institution existed among the Arabs from time immemorial, so that Mohammed was not the originator of this separation of women from general society, but rather the sustainer of an old and established usage, which the condition of the community in his times, rendered imperative.
“Speak unto the true believers, that they restrain their eyes, and keep themselves from immodest actions. This will be more pure for them, for God is well acquainted with that which they do; and speak unto the believing women, that they restrain their eyes, and preserve their modesty, and discover not their ornaments (personal charms), except what necessarily appeareth thereof; and let them throw their veils over their bosoms, and not show their ornaments, unless to their husbands or their fathers, or their husband’s fathers, or their sons, or their husband’s sons, or their brother’s sons, or unto such as attend them and have no need of women, or unto children who distinguish not the nakedness of men.”
Supposing then society were on a different basis, according to these tenets, the women would be perpetually veiled, and the men ever wandering with averted eyes. In order to remedy these evils, and facilitate their seclusion, the houses are all divided into two sets of apartments, the Selamluk, or men’s apartment, and the Harem, or the sanctuary of the women, where no men are allowed to enter, except those specified by the Prophet.
Now, it is evident that the principle upon which society is constructed in the East, is the careful seclusion of women from the gaze of the world.
The peculiar charm of modesty is known and acknowledged all over the world, as the domestic arrangements of civilized society everywhere demonstrate.
The Greeks of Homer’s day had their γυναικεῖον, the Romans, in imitation, their Gynæceum; and modern civilization has created its boudoir; but none of these terms are as expressive of the sanctity of the abode, as the word Harem of the Orientals.
It is well known that the cities of Mecca and Medina are the holy shrines of the Mohammedan faith. No other appellative is used in speaking of them, but the same word Harem, which, when used in the plural, in itself comprises these venerated cities. They say, Hadjj-ul-Haremein, or pilgrim of the two harems, meaning the holy Mecca and Medina. This word is applied to the temple itself at Mecca, which is honored by the title of Mesjad-el-Harem, the sacred or inviolable temple.
Thus some idea may be formed of the etymology of the term and its sacred signification, when used by the Arabs and other Orientals, to designate their firesides or family homes; the sanctity of which, not only admits of no intrusion, but any summons or interruption to the master of the family after he has once retired, is considered indecorous.
Mohammed received a revelation regarding himself, while he was engaged in his harem preparing the Koran.
Some persons had the rudeness to call him out. In order to reprove them, and like sinners in all times to come, the following passage was revealed:
“The interior of thy dwelling is a sanctuary; they who violate it by calling unto thee, are deficient in the respect which they owe to the interpreter of heaven.”
This passage has not only rendered the interior of the dwelling, viz. the harem, an inviolable asylum to the female portion of the family, but it has made it a convenient place of refuge to pashas and efendis, where they often seek repose from the multitude of unwelcome visitors who infest, with perfect freedom, and at all hours, their selamluks.
The frequent visits of the Osmanlis to their harems, are not always indications of the attractions within, but other external motives may impel them thither; nevertheless, the inviolability of these precincts has induced the supposition that they contained naught but the shrine of the fair Goddess of Beauty, and her sly coadjutor.
The upper part of a house in America, or those rooms appropriated to the exclusive use of the ladies, are as sacred and inviolable as any Oriental harem; and are not, as a matter of course, supposed to be the scenes of mystery and intrigue. Indeed, it is fully evident that the same spirit of deference to the comfort of the fair sex, exists in America, where is seen over one of the principal entrances to the general post-office, the announcement, “Exclusively for Ladies,” which in Turkey would be intimated by the single and expressive word HAREM.
Again the “Ladies’ Cabin” on board the steamers would, in the East, be designated by the word Harem, written in golden characters, which would at once indicate its sacred nature, and inspire every Oriental with the respect due to the sex, which is even more imperative in that clime than in other lands, where they make a glory and boast of their excessive deference to the fairer portion of the community.
Hence how erroneous the impression, that the harem is a species of female prison, established by the tyranny of men, where the weaker sex are forcibly shut up against their will.
If the Osmanli ladies were under no other restrictions, their own sense of self-respect, based upon time-hallowed usage, and inculcated by the precepts of their religion, would compel them to the same seclusion. I one day happened to be in the dressing room of a pasha, adjoining the harem; when he left the room for a moment. In the interval, his daughter, supposing her father quite alone, suddenly entered the apartment; but on seeing me there, instinctively covering her face with the drapery of her sleeve, as suddenly disappeared. While I myself as instinctively displayed my sense of the courtesy due to a lady, by looking as far as I could in an opposite direction.
I heard her remarking to the slaves in the next room, that she was so mortified, for, instead of seeing her father there stood —— as large as life.
Her feeling at being seen without the precincts of the harem unveiled, was the same as would be experienced by a lady of this country, who should be surprised by the sight of a gentleman, when she was en toilette de nuit!
Nor is this seclusion entirely Mohammedan, but being an ancient custom of the East, it is practised by all who dwell in that clime. The families of the rayas, or non-mussulman subjects of the Porte, consisting of the Armenians, Greeks, and Jews, are also under the same social laws as their Mohammedan compatriots. It is true, that in proportion as European customs have found their way into these countries, the rigidity of the Christians has relaxed in this respect; because the observance in question has never been incorporated with their religion; whereas Mohammed, on the contrary, took special pains to enforce the practice upon his followers.
The word harem being by courtesy applied also to its inmates, has now become a general term to designate the female portion of the family, and is by no means synonymous with polygamy, otherwise the same expression would not be used by the Christian subjects in speaking of their domestic relations.
It would be said that a certain pasha or an Armenian banker had gone to a distant place without his harem, or family.
An Osmanli lady, on being informed of the arrival of an American minister in Constantinople, would naturally inquire whether he was accompanied by his harem, or family.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CONDITION OF WOMEN.
It is fortunate that the less enlightened members of the human family are unconscious of their comparative inferiority—and are ignorant of the bliss to which the more sublimated specimens of humanity are constantly aspiring, and even rendering themselves discontented with real life, as destiny has accorded it to them.
The actual condition of women in the East is not then so much to be lamented, as their ideal of happiness so essentially differs from that of other portions of the fair sex in Europe or America. As no other philosophy has yet crept into their minds, they dream not of “woman’s rights,” “free love” or “equality of the sexes,” and calmly content themselves with the rights of nature, and the relative position which has ever existed among their simple and patriarchal ancestors. The Osmanlis have not yet deviated from the form of family government which nature dictated to them.
The venerable father, who has guided his children through youth, and even counseled them in maturer years, is the monarch in the family circle—the Dei penates are no creations of myth—but are embodied in the one and sacred title of Pater familias.
Each son, as he succeeds to the paternal duties, is invested with the robes of veneration and respect. Thus the male branches of the household have a prior rank, which is unconsciously recognized by the women and younger members of the family. The laws even allow to the son double the share of inheritance that they do to the daughters, because of the heavy responsibilities which may devolve upon him in future by the death of the father.
There is not, therefore, the most distant suspicion in their composition that females are equal to males, or girls to boys. It is as if the members of the body should revolt, and the hands and feet proclaim themselves superior, or even equal, to the head.
The women of Turkey know very well, and gracefully submit to facts, which are stubborn things. They never think of denying that
“Women first were made for men,
Not men for them.”
There are countries where the condition of woman is indeed miserable, and where, also, they are unconscious of their own degradation, and willingly toil and drudge in the service of men; content with the slightest proofs of affection with which their lords may honor them—indeed, any concession to their woman nature is thankfully received.
To be bought and sold is a matter of course. In China, the purchased wife is suddenly transported into the family of a man, whose name even she has never heard. There she is the slave of the whole establishment. The husband may beat her with impunity, reduce her to a state of starvation, or hire her out, if he fancies to do so.
The Hindoo forces her to immolate herself on her husband’s funeral pile—after having spent a lifetime in his slavery and service.
Such barbarities are unknown in Turkey. For in no country in the world are mothers more respected, wives more tenderly cherished, and children more idolized. If, in the relative position of the sexes, men rank above women, it is because the man is considered as the vital principle, and the woman the material. Hence the man loves and cherishes the woman, who in return regards him with reverence and respect; and any deviation from these reciprocal affections, would be considered as the greatest breach of decorum.
There are certain acts of politeness which devolve altogether upon the lords of creation in the most exquisitely civilized regions of the world, which are however sometimes reluctantly performed—but, as usual, such matters are reversed in the East, where even the sun rises at a different hour. There the Efendi graciously receives a glass of water at the hands of his too happy Hanum; his pipe and his coffee are gracefully served by some fair Hebe of a wife or sister, who naturally considers herself as the helpmeet for her spouse, as did Eve, the first and fairest of woman kind.
The reluctance they feel to have their ladies appear in general society does not arise from any want of deference and respect on the part of the men, but rather from an intuitive desire to guard and protect them from public scandal.
As the Osmanlis enshrine the objects of their affection in the recesses of their own hearts, so they love to guard them from all contact of a selfish world. Indeed, Moore has beautifully expressed their feelings in the warblings of the Peri,
“No pearl ever lay under Oman’s green water,
More pure in its shell, than thy spirit in thee.”
They feel so sensitive on this score, that they do not make their Harems a subject of conversation. Even the most distant allusion to this part of their establishment would consequently be, not only indelicate, but also an infringement of etiquette—so that the ordinary questions, such as “how are madam and the ladies,” or according to Irish vocabulary, “how’s yer wife and the gals,” would cause the lord of the house to redden with astonishment.
As a further proof of the respect a man is supposed to feel for his family, his enemy, when wishing to touch him to the quick, in cursing him, only utters maledictions against his wife, mother, or sister.
A man may be publicly executed, but a woman is sacked, entirely out of respect.
A Turkish lady is eminently queen of her own dominions, sometimes even a despot—and most independent on all occasions, both public and private.
It is not necessary for ladies to be attended by their husband or any other gentleman when they go out; public sentiment entirely protects them; for, if any one should accost them rudely, the commonest citizen would immediately turn avenger. When the ladies are attended by servants and eunuchs, they are only appendages of rank and distinction.
They seem, indeed, to be a privileged class. Wherever they appear the men must retire—and woe to the man who ventures upon a warfare of words with a Turkish woman; for her tongue has no bounds, and her slipper is a ready weapon of chastisement; and no man would dare to repel the attack.
The convenience of the slipper as a ready means of self-defence, seems to have been familiar in the days of the old classics, for, the Roman poet says:
“Et soleâ pulsare nates,”
And doubtless many of the rising generation can testify to its abuse, even in these days of modern improvement.
The very whims and caprices which seem indigenous to the fair sex, are tolerated as a matter of course with philosophic resignation, as they are instructed by the Koran, “If ye be kind towards women and fear to wrong them, God is well acquainted with what ye do.” They have a proverb also which supplants all reasoning on such occasions.
“Satchi-ouzoun, Akli-Kissa.”
Long hair, short brains.
To salute a lady, or in any way accost her, in public would be an act of consummate rudeness; even a husband would pass by his wife and family with an air of affected indifference. Certainly such a neglect of the fair sex would be unpardonable in Europe and this country, but on the contrary, in the East, it only evinces the greatest deference and respect.
Nevertheless, the Mohammedans have been most maliciously reported by ignorant writers on the East, to hold that women have no souls; or if they have, that they will perish like those of brute beasts.
This assumption is founded upon the promise of the Prophet, that the faithful shall be provided with black-eyed Houris in Paradise.
If this excludes the Mussulman women from Paradise, we may reasonably place the Christian ladies in the same category, for they are assured in the Gospel that “there will be no marrying nor giving in marriage in Heaven.”
On the contrary, Houris are but an addition to the earthly wives of the Mussulmans, and the faithful are assured that “God promiseth unto the true believers, both men and women, gardens through which rivers flow, wherein they shall remain for ever,” and that “whoso doth good works, whether he be male or female, and is a true believer, shall be admitted into Paradise, and shall not in the least be unjustly dealt with.”
CHAPTER XXIV.
PERSONAL APPEARANCE AND COSTUME.
The first years of the life of every girl are spent both in the Harem and Selamluk (or men’s apartment), indiscriminately. The female children being then allowed free access to the society of the men, they imbibe certain notions in their youth, which are not always consistent with refinement.
As there is not in the Selamluk, the restraint which the presence of ladies always imposes, the manners and conversation of the men are often but ill calculated to nurture a sense of delicacy in the minds of the children, who mingle so freely with them. Nevertheless, they seem to possess an innate sense of propriety, and are never deficient in politeness of deportment.
Every girl is permitted to attend either the public schools, or to receive private instruction at home, until she is eight or ten years of age, when she is no longer allowed the freedom of her childhood. Very little learning is acquired by them, the language being difficult, and the mode of instruction altogether unsystematical; so that for all future years they retain their simplicity, and are but overgrown children.
Their minds having had no culture, the senses assume entire dominion over them, and their time is spent either in adorning their persons, or in etiquetical observances, by which they hope to render themselves more bewitching to the lords of creation.
As in all other countries, fashion is regulated by the court, so at Constantinople it is controlled by the ladies of the palace. Their costume, according to the Oriental taste, always consisting of long flowing robes, may be supposed to admit of no change; but on the contrary, the ladies having little other occupation, delight in varying the shape and style of their dress. Sometimes the hair is worn long, again cropped short. A fess with flossy tassel is one day the mode, and a fantastic turban is adopted the next morning. The sleeves are long and wide, and again their drapery is dispensed with, and they are confined at the wrist.
The entary, or dress, is invariably cut high, either closed around the neck, or left open in front; it is made long, trailing about a yard below the person; sometimes left open at the sides to the hips, and at others, made wide, and sewed up as low as the ankles.
The shalvar, or full trowsers, are made to match the dress, and again of varied and contrasting hues.
There in a great variety in the fashion for trimming the dresses and handkerchiefs, which generally are adorned with most exquisite embroideries in silk or gold, as may suit the mode, or taste of the wearer. Sometimes an immense cashmere shawl is wound round the waist; at others, a light gauze scarf, or belt of gold, with a clasp adorned with brilliants, serves for a girdle. No Turkish lady can dispense with jewelry, and even women of the lowest rank adorn themselves with diamonds.
Abundant occupation is afforded to the jewellers by the constant transformation of their bijouterie; for one day the capricious beauties fancy a star or a crescent, and the next, nothing will suit their toilet but a large spray of brilliants.
The number of the ladies in the royal palace and in other wealthy harems, all of whom are bedecked in elegant and costly costumes, causes a demand for the services of many merchants, through whom the last new fashion is immediately promulgated.
Their beauty is such, however, that it might well afford to be unadorned, for their complexions are generally exceedingly fair, and of the most delicate softness; owing to the constant use of the bath, as well as the protection of the yashmack, or veil, without which they never go abroad.
Their features are very regular, and their almond shaped eyes, so much sung by their poets, are dark and lustrous, and so valued for their size, that the enjoyment of the great-eyed ladies is promised by Mohammed as one of the sublimest joys of Paradise. The power of these electric and darkly beautiful orbs is so terrible, that woe to those upon whom they are turned, for, as Pertev Pasha, one of their celebrated poets, has described:
“On the point of each ray that is darted from those bright meteors, there is a bloody slaughter house,” or as the French would expressively say, “un regard assassin.”
Exquisitely arched eyebrows are also so essential to their ideas of beauty, that they are never contented, till by the repeated application of artificial means, they raise their brows to a lofty semicircle.
Beauty spots, or moles, are considered of great value; and if nature has proved niggard in this respect, art is brought into requisition to produce the same contrasting effect between the tiny circle of jetty hue and the surrounding fairness. The poet Hafiz has sung their value in flowing numbers, offering the wealth of Semerkand and Bokhara for the possession of the Indian mole on the cheek of the fair beauty of Shiraz.
The tips of their fingers and toes are frequently stained with henna, producing the roseate hue so much à la mode.
Their forms and movements are graceful, being under no artificial restraints; and there is an exquisite charm about them as they languidly lounge on their silken couches, or glide about from room to room in long flowing robes, and slip-shod shup-shups.
Well has the illustrious bard portrayed the varied charms of the Eastern houris:
“Many and beautiful lay those around,
Like flowers of different hue and clime, and root,
In some exotic garden sometimes found,
With cost, and care, and warmth, induced to shoot.”
Considering their limited education, it is delightful to listen to the melodious tone of their voices, as they speak with remarkable purity the harmonious Turkish language. Notwithstanding their lack of learning, there have been some among the ladies renowned for their poetical productions, such as Leyla and Fitnett Hanums, justly celebrated for their exquisite poetry.
CHAPTER XXV.
DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS.
The interior arrangements of the Turkish apartments and their furniture, are very peculiar, and quite unlike those of European or American drawing rooms, being entirely adapted to the habits and tastes of the Orientals. There is never any doubt or hesitation as to the place suitable to be occupied by any one who may happen to enter a room; nor is it possible to mistake the different ranks of its occupants.
Generally there is a sofa on three sides of the room, sufficiently ample to accommodate the ladies in their style of sitting, which is not cross-legged as is usually represented in pictures, but with the limbs folded under their persons and carefully concealed by the drapery of their long robes; for to show these parts of the person while sitting, is considered a great breach of etiquette. Hence no Osmanli lady is ever to be seen perched on the very edge of the sofa, but leaving her slippers on the floor, she steps upon the couch and gracefully bending her knees, sits reclining against the cushions behind her.
On the floor, at the foot of the sofa, are placed mattresses, furnished with cushions, and these are called erkean mindery or seats of homage, where humbler visitors or members of the family are allowed to place themselves. The angles or corners of the sofa, are regarded as the seats of honor, and the places on either side, rank in regular succession down to the seat of homage; but the most honorable person in the company may, at her or his option, occupy any part of the couch, when the rest place themselves on each side according to their own rank. The servants are always present, and stand in a row at the lower end of the room, their arms humbly folded on their girdles, attentive to the slightest nod of their superiors.
There are several windows on each of the three sides of the room, so as to permit a full view of the surrounding scenery, while they are seated; for the Osmanlis are very fond of sunlight and the beauties of nature. The windows of the harem are all furnished with close lattices, permitting those within to see without being seen.
The more modernized salons, have only a sofa on one side, European couches, chairs, tables, and mirrors, being substituted for the other sofas. They also endeavor to imitate the Europeans in the style of the window draperies, which are often of the most brilliant hues.
There is one peculiarity in the Oriental houses. You may wander from one end to the other and not see a single bed-room or any of its appurtenances—which has induced many persons to report them as sleeping on the sofas, and never dressing or undressing. It would, however, seem more natural to suppose, that the Osmanlis never had any but day dreams.
The fact is, that the beds are all packed away in large closets during the day-time, and spread upon the floor at night. In the houses of the wealthy, the mattresses and coverlets are made of the richest materials, and the sheets of beautiful silk gauze, manufactured in Broossa. The whole appearance of the bed, so brilliant in hue, and rich in ornament, is very different from the style of a European couch.
Every house has an infinite number and variety of extra beds and bedding, to be spread on the floors of any of the apartments, for the accommodation of visitors—hospitality being one of the most religious precepts and observances of the Orientals.
In the sultan’s palace, however, and in the families of the wealthy, especially of those pashas who have resided in Europe, bedsteads have been introduced.
Upon rising, the person claps her hands, as the apartments are never furnished with bell ropes, and immediately the attendants appear—one holding the basin, another the ewer, and a third presenting the towel, richly embroidered at the ends.
The usual method of warming the houses, is by the mangal and tandur. The mangal is generally made of brass highly polished, somewhat in the form of an hour-glass, about a foot and a half high, and two, or two and a half in diameter; and contains a large pan of ignited charcoal.
The tandur consists of a wooden frame about the height and size of a table, lined with tin, under which a pan of fire is placed, and the whole is covered with a thickly wadded quilt. This is surrounded by sofas, and they sit with their legs and feet under the covering.
More cozy than any capacious arm-chair, or softly yielding fauteuil, is this same tandur. The genial warmth excites a wonderful sympathy in its occupants. They warm to each other, and to the world in general, and never neglect to take cognizance of their neighbor’s affairs and doings. From the palace of the sultan to the cottage of the crone, they benignantly travel, bestowing on each and all a blessing, or when necessary, even a cursing. The ups and downs of pashas, probable and accomplished—whispers of the sultan’s favorites, or of the efendi’s coquettish ladies—the style of Adilé Sultan’s feradjé, or the grand vezir’s fess, are each and all passed in review, until you wonder how ever a set of miserable imprisoned women should be such arrant gossips. Ah! one cannot believe the fair sex so unjust to themselves, even in Turkey, as to neglect the observation of those interesting little items of public or retired life, which become great and weighty affairs, when discussed by ruby lips, and in the cadence of sweet-toned voices.
They possess a most lady-like love of chit-chat, and so little do they covet repose for their delicate jaws, that should conversation lag, they keep them in motion by the use of mastic, which is always in readiness, preserved in little jewelled boxes.
It is only of late years, that those hot, repelling machines called stoves, have been introduced; but they have by no means superseded the social and old-fashioned tandur, whose warmth, and luxurious cushions, often beguile its occupants to slumber, during which the fire is overturned, and thus occur many of the conflagrations so frequent in Turkey.
There are two occasions when the still air resounds with the echoes of human voices. The chant of the Muezzin from the minaré, slowly and musically vibrating through the atmosphere, enticing all to linger at the casement or in the thoroughfare to catch its melodious accents; and the terrible cry of yangun var! Fire! Fire! accompanied by the reverberations of the watchman’s club striking upon the pavement.
A thrill of horror pervades every heart, for there are no bounds to the devouring element.
There are two towers, one at the Seraskér’s in the city itself, and the other on the Galata hill, which command an extensive isometrical view of the whole metropolis and its suburbs.
Here guards are stationed, who descry the first indications of fire, and immediately give, from the top of the towers, the requisite signal, by hoisting, in the day-time, an immense globe, painted red, and at night by producing a bright and steady light—these signals remain until the fire is extinguished.
At Candilly, on the Asiatic shore of the Bosphorus, and half way up the stream, there are a battery and a flag-staff stationed on the mountain top called Kenan-tepessy; as soon as the signals are seen, the fire globe ascends the flag-staff, and the battery discharges a certain number of guns, according to the locality of the conflagration.
From the towers, detailed officers, Neöbetgees, are dispatched to the different ministers, and guard houses, where the engines are kept, who create a tremendous sensation, as they rush wildly about, brandishing their batons of office, and with a protracted yell, warning every one to clear the way. The different Bekgees or district watchmen, now take up the cry—striking their iron-shod clubs on the pavement and repeating with all the power of their lungs yangun-var! Stambolda! or there is fire at Stamboul.
The firemen assemble at their respective quarters, and shouldering their engines, rush to the scene. These firemen receive no pay, but are exempt from taxes and allowed certain other privileges—yet they always manage to extort certain compensations for their services, from the victims of the devastating element. The engines are small and portable, on account of the narrowness and steepness of the streets, nor is there any connexion-hose attached to them, the water being supplied with buckets; yet it is astonishing how much they effect even with such inadequate means.
The inflammable materials of which the houses are constructed, the narrow streets, winding up the hillside like foot-paths, the irregular and projecting dwellings, from which the people could shake hands with their opposite neighbors, if it were only the fashion in Turkey, contribute to make a most desirable promenade for the Fire-King when he sallies forth.
The flames leap from house to house; the burning cinders fly in all directions, and the fire kindles at many and distant points; so that in less than half an hour, a large district is often wrapt in flames.
The general panic is so intense, that the whole community is roused; the pashas desert their couches, and even the sultan himself sometimes repairs to the scene, to animate, by his presence, the efforts of the desperate firemen.
CHAPTER XXVI.
SOCIAL INTERCOURSE.
It seems something of an anomaly that a race of beings so distinguished for selfishness, should be so exceedingly social in their inclinations.
Birds of a feather flock together, and man loves his fellow, though he loves himself better.
To prevent the inroad of this extreme selfishness, certain forms and ceremonies are established in every community where there is any interchange of mutual civilities.
Oriental life has many distinguishing peculiarities and characteristic forms of politeness, but unlike other parts of the globe, etiquette in the East is permanent and general. The mental accomplishments being but few, wealth seems to constitute the only aristocratic distinction, while the poorest and the richest are equally well versed in the established routine of civility.
It is curious to observe the native refinement even of the lower classes in Turkey. There is no gaucherie, no reluctance in any one to do the right thing in the right way and place; no fear of being unlike other distinguished personages in manners and customs; for there is no doubt as to the prescribed and most elegant style of conduct; even the salutations, compliments and congratulations are most carefully worded, and any deviation from the formula would destroy the intended effect.
There is, consequently, no lack of social etiquette among the Osmanlis. A visitor is received according to her station in life, and after being announced, is met by the lady of the house with her suite, at the head of the staircase, or at the door of the saloon, or sometimes by merely stepping down from the sofa, as may be demanded by the rank of the guest.
There is no ceremony of introducing one person to another, nor is there any shaking of hands. The company salute each other without any regard to previous acquaintance; and the younger members of society always kiss the hem of the garment, or the hands of their superiors in rank and age.
The manner of salutation varies—those of equal rank endeavor to kiss the hem of each other’s garments, or only exchange temennas.
The temenna, which has already been described, is a graceful salutation, and is used as frequently as thank you by the English; serving as an acknowledgment for all compliments and kind inquiries.
When one thinks of the innumerable occasions on which this expressive temenna is called into action, it seems as if a whole chapter would scarcely suffice to describe them all. But we will content ourselves with its demonstration upon the arrival of a guest among a company of some fifteen or twenty persons.
As soon as the visitor is seated, the lady welcomes her guest by a temenna—which is acknowledged by the same signal, and reiterated by each person in the company successively, according to her rank.
Now another round commences. The lady of the house makes a new temenna, which signifies, “How do you do?” Another temenna from the visitor, is equivalent to an acknowledgment of thanks, who with the same gesture, intimates a desire to know the state of her hostess’s health.
The whole company then in succession follow suit, to each of whom the visitor replies in the same way.
This Quaker-meeting style of receiving company, might be ludicrously illustrated in American society, by substituting bows for temennas—if, indeed, the ladies could be expected to preserve the requisite silence and gravity of demeanor.
In Turkey, every attention or compliment, brings its train of temennas, and it is much to be regretted that no mathematician has yet arisen in Turkey, capable of producing a regular formula for their exact computation.
The Meddahs, however, or the famous story-tellers of the East, who are the best critics, sometimes endeavor to exhibit the danger of too great an excess in this act of politeness.
They say there was once a worthy Hodja or schoolmaster, who was very punctilious. Desirous that all his scholars should realise the importance of true politeness, he insisted that when he drank water, not a single one of them should omit to exclaim with a respectful temenna, afiyet olsoun hodja efendy, or may it do you much good, respected master—and when he sneezed, they were all to clap their hands, and vociferate hayr ola hodja efendy, or good luck to the master.
The means employed by this worthy schoolmaster to enforce his lessons, may be readily guessed by others of the same profession; but that the desired effect was produced, there is no doubt.
There was a deep well, from which the scholars had to draw water for their own use.
One day, it was reported to the teacher that the bucket had fallen in the well, who, after many vain attempts to fish it up, resolved to descend by means of a rope, and the scholars were called upon to assist in his descent and ascent.
The hodja was accordingly lowered down into the well, and at a given signal, the boys began to pull him up. But as he approached the mouth of the well, the change of the atmosphere titillating his nostrils, unfortunately made him sneeze; when the well-trained pupils, instinctively making the temenna, and clapping their hands, let go the rope and shouted, “hayr ola hodja efendy,” good luck to the master.
But, retournons nous à nos moutons.
After the visitor is seated, and the usual temennas are exchanged, long chibouks with amber mouthpieces, set in diamonds, are offered by the halayiks or slaves; after which, sweetmeats are served upon a silver tray, with goblets of water, and then coffee.
This beverage is served in small porcelain cups, in stands of silver or gold, sometimes enamelled and set in diamonds—which ceremony is thus poetically described by Lord Byron:
“And mocha’s berry, from Arabia pure,
In small fine china cups, came in at last;
Gold cups of filagree, made to secure
The hand from burning, underneath them placed.”
Although there are certain ceremonies which are never omitted as matters of form, their intercourse with each other is most unsophisticated. Mutual criticism, and inspection of toilets, catechising about prices, etc., are indulged in as matters of course, and if by chance the guest is a European lady, the scrutiny is the more intense; so that those who desire to visit Turkish harems, must go prepared to undergo the most thorough examination with smiles and good humor; the only satisfaction being a genuine retaliation upon the fair hanums, who would feel exceedingly flattered thereby, and by no means dream of being offended.
The whole establishment is shown to visitors, as one way of entertaining them; and frequently they get up a dance among themselves, or call in the dancing girls with their castanets.
Upon intimation of departure, sherbet is served; after which the visit is terminated, and the guest reconducted in the same manner in which she was[missing text]
CHAPTER XXVII.
POLYGAMY.
It is true that a Harem is generally composed of an assemblage of women, but not such as the public usually imagine.
Although the Mussulmans are allowed by the Koran to have several wives, there are few who have more than one, especially at the present day; a fact not to be, however, attributed to any new code of morality, but rather to the coercion of circumstances.
It was the practice of the Arabs to have eight or ten wives, whom they were seldom able to maintain. Mohammed, wishing to remedy this evil, and not altogether to abolish ancient usages, limited the number—“Take in marriage of such women as please you, two, or three or four, and not more. But if ye fear that ye cannot act equitably to so many, marry only one, or the slaves which ye shall have acquired.” They were allowed to marry a greater number of slaves, as their dowry was much smaller, and they were maintained in a very different style from the free women.
As the Osmanlis have a remarkable love of offspring, it often happens that a man having had no children by a wife, and unwilling to divorce her, which is considered discreditable, takes a second one in imitation of Abraham and Jacob and many other patriarchs of old, whose practices were but the type of the habits of all Oriental people, even those of the present day. But such a step being often the source of domestic difficulty, the substitution of a slave in the place of a second wife is generally preferred—and such slaves are retained in the harem with the appellation of Odaluk or handmaid, like Hagar, Bilhah, and Zilpah. When these Odaluks become mothers, by right of their maternity, they acquire their freedom and are considered second wives.
A man may, however, be induced to contract a second marriage either from mercenary or ambitious motives.
When circumstances or selfish inclinations induce the Mussulmans to have several wives, they are obliged to assign to each one private apartments and attendants. These ladies, although often living under the same roof, visit each other with all the etiquette of perfect strangers, and require an expenditure for retinue and accommodations, which can only be sustained by wealth.
Besides all partiality being out of the question, there is great cause for jealousy among the different members of such establishments—and the less favored being ever ready for intrigue, conspire to render the husband most miserable and the sanctuary a perfect bedlam, and the ambition of a second wife sometimes can only be satisfied by the sacrifice of her rival.
Fethi Ahmed Pasha was so favored by the sultan that his majesty bestowed his sister upon him in marriage. Notwithstanding this alliance with royalty, the wife and children of his humbler fortunes retained their place in his memory; but he could only visit them in secret.
The author has, on several occasions, assisted to his incognito, as he left his state barge and proceeded en bourgeois in a small cayik, to visit the house of his affections.
There is, therefore, every reason to believe that our Mussulman friends will soon come to the conclusion, that,
“Polygamy may well be held in dread,
Not only as a sin, but as a bore:”
Notwithstanding then the toleration of polygamy by the Prophet, it is evident that circumstances have combined to restrict this practice; and most particularly the abolition of the Circassian slave-trade, to a certain extent, has created an effectual check to the use of Odaluks—thus increasing the necessity of alliances between the members of different families which were formerly avoided; because the wife being surrounded and supported by her own relations, attained an undue share of domestic power and influence.
Especially when alliances are formed with royalty, the circumstances are most aggravating. The husband then becomes an abject slave, and has tacitly to submit to the caprices of his spouse.
He cannot enter the harem of his sultana unless especially sent for; nor can he postpone his attendance to her summons no matter what his circumstances or occupation may be.
The sultan’s brother-in-law has often been seen, sleeping in a corner of a sofa at the Selamluk, till two or three o’clock in the morning, awaiting the pleasure of his royal mistress—while she on her part was amusing herself in the harem with dancing girls, music, &c.
The pasha’s embarrassment has also been very evident when he has been obliged to leave the company abruptly; no apology being necessary on such occasions; the entrance of the sable messenger, with a single temenna intimating the absolute command of the royal wife, who generally dismisses her train of ladies and slaves before he makes his appearance.
It is with the desire to avoid such petticoat government that the young men do not contract alliances with ladies of rank and distinction; preferring to marry their own slaves, or to content themselves with the Odaluks which their mothers bestow upon them to keep them within the home circle, and out of mischief.
Sometimes they are forced to a second marriage by the bestowal of a bride from a superior in power whose orders they cannot refuse.
A great number of women then in any harem is by no means a sure sign of the uxorious disposition of its master, but is rather an indication of his personal rank and wealth.
For the Osmanlis men and women are proverbially fond of display, they say “Sense belongs to Europe—wealth to India, beauty to Georgia—but show and display are the attributes of the Osmanlis alone.”
They therefore delight in all the appendages of luxury, and surround themselves with crowds of attendants. This Oriental propensity has even been sustained by the Prophet himself, who says, that “the very meanest in Paradise will have 80,000 servants,” &c. While, then, the gentleman in the selamluk, has his steward, treasurer, cup-bearer, pipe bearer, etc., the Hanum on her part, has her own appropriate suite, which is in many instances more numerous than that of her Efendy.
This is particularly true with regard to the sultanas or sisters and daughters of the sultan, whose husbands are not allowed to behold the faces of any of the fair maidens in the royal train, except by special permission of the sultanas themselves.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
MARRIAGE AND DIVORCE.
Marriage is considered “honorable in all,” but most especially among the Osmanlis, who enter into this condition as they arrive at the age of puberty. The independent state of bachelorship is therefore unknown among them, or if such an accident should happen, the unfortunate gentleman is styled beekear, or useless member of society, which stigma it is needless to say they by no means covet; as for old maids, there is not a word in the language descriptive of that class of women.
The preliminaries of all marriages are effected by the parents, who not only thus spare their children much trouble and embarrassment, but use all their own wisdom and experience of genuine terrestrial happiness in providing for their own offspring. Besides, parental authority is supreme, and filial obedience equally innate, hence it never enters into the calculations of the young to weary themselves with the anticipatory illusions of love, though sometimes when old enough they join in the matrimonial deliberations.
Marriage is not a religious, but rather a civil contract among the Mussulmans, and the ceremony is as simple as in Protestant countries.
This ceremony which is called Nikeah, is effected by proxies, and there is always a fixed sum settled upon the bride, according to the condition of the party. This Nikeah constitutes the legal marriage, but the bride does not go to her husband’s home until three or four months have elapsed, at which time the friends assemble to partake of the nuptial festivities, which continue during four days, and always end on Thursday, as the following day is the Turkish sabbath.
Upon her arrival, the bride is met at the door of the harem, and conducted into the room by the bridegroom himself, who carries her up stairs in his arms, and placing her in the most honorable part of the sofa, raises her veil of tinsel, and takes the liberty, for the first time, to gaze upon the features of his beloved.
Separate establishments are almost unknown in Turkey. The bride goes to the house of her husband’s parents, so that the family circle often becomes very numerous. It occasionally happens that by special request, the bridegroom enters the family of his wife’s parents; which, however, is considered a misfortune, for they say, “Itch guveyeeden halludja” or any condition is preferable to that of a man married into a family.