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.