The grooms yearly elect a chief in each town, called Seis Bashi, through whom, for a small fee, grooms may be obtained with greater security than otherwise for their good behavior and capability. The meetings, or lonjas, of this esnaf, are held pretty frequently in coffee-houses, where the affairs of the corporation are regulated, and the meeting generally terminates in an orgy; after which the grooms retire to their stables, much the worse for the wine and raki they have drunk.
Once a year each of the associations gives a picnic, either on the feast of the patron saint or at the promotion of an apprentice. On such occasions a certain sum is collected from the members, or taken from the reserve fund which some of the esnafs possess, for the purchase of all kinds of provisions needed for a substantial and sometimes even sumptuous meal, to which not only all the members of the guild are invited, irrespective of creed and nationality, but also all strangers who may happen to pass the place where the feast is held. The amusements include music and dancing for the Christians, and a variety of other entertainments, always harmless and quite within the bounds of decorum, and joined in with the spirit of joviality that characterizes these gatherings; disputes are of rare occurrence, and the greatest harmony is displayed throughout the day between Christian and Mussulman. When the interests of the Mohammedans are closely connected with those of the Christians, both willingly forego something of their usual intolerance in order to further the cause of business. It is strange and regrettable that this spirit of association among the lower orders should receive so little encouragement from the Government and the higher classes.
Though the Mohammedans in certain localities and under such circumstances as those I have mentioned are just in their dealings with the Christians, and maintain a friendly feeling towards them; in others, especially in inland towns, the growing prosperity of the Christians excites a bitter feeling among their Turkish neighbors, who often offer open hostility and inflict irreparable injury on their business and property. Many incidents of this nature have come under my notice, and lead me to the conclusion that the non-progressiveness of the Turks and the rapid decline of their empire is partly due to the unfortunate and insurmountable incongeniality existing between the Turks and Christians. The Turks, as the dominant race, assumed total ascendancy over the Christians, got into the habit of using them as tools who acted, worked, and thought for them in an irresponsible fashion, and thus lost the power of doing for themselves, together with the sense of seeing the necessity of dealing with justice, generosity, and impartiality, which alone could have guaranteed enterprise or secured confidence and sympathy between the two classes. Unfortunately for the Turks this has brought about a state of permanent antipathy between the two that can never be corrected; nor can any reconciliation be arrived at unless these classes become entirely independent of one another. Any arrangement short of this, as any person well informed as to the actual relations of Turks and Christians, be they Greeks or Bulgarians, will admit, must be of short duration, and before long there could not fail to come a recurrence of outbreaks, revolutions, and the usual atrocities that accompany disorder among these races.
The Turks, generally speaking, are not active or intelligent in business, and do not venture much into speculation or commercial transactions of any great importance. For example, one never hears of their undertaking banking, or forming companies for the purpose of working mines, making railways, or any other enterprise involving risk and requiring intelligence, activity, system, and honesty to insure success. The first reason for this strange neglect in a people who possess one of the finest and most productive countries in the world is a naturally stagnant and lethargic disposition; another is the want of the support of the Government, which has never shown itself earnestly desirous of aiding private enterprise or guaranteeing its success by affording disinterested protection. Until very recent times no pains have been taken either by individuals or by the Government to introduce those innovations and improvements which the times demand. The consequence is that the Turkish tradespeople gradually find the number of their customers decrease, while the Greeks, Franks, and others successfully supply the public with the new articles, or the old ones improved and better fashioned. To give an instance of this I will repeat an incident related to me by a Turkish bey of “La Jeune Turquie” as a lamentable proof of the non-progressiveness of the masses. “When at Stamboul,” said he, “I had during some time to pass by the shop of a Turkish basket-maker who, with two of his sons, one grown up and the other a boy, might be seen working at the wicker hampers and common baskets which have been used in the country from time immemorial, but are now less used by reason of the superiority of those brought from Europe or made in the school for mechanical arts in Stamboul, an institution not much appreciated by the artisans who enjoy the liberty of going themselves or sending their children to learn the innovations in their different branches of industry. The basket-maker and his sons were evidently a steady-going set, representing the honest Turks of olden time, but seemed to be struggling for a livelihood. Feeling an interest in them, I one day stopped and asked the old man what he realized per diem by the sale of his baskets. He heaved a deep sigh, glanced round his dismal shop, ornamented only with dust-covered baskets, and said, ‘Very little, from three to six piastres (6d. to 1s.); for my business, once a thriving one, is now cast into the shade, and few customers come to buy the old Turkish baskets.’ ‘Why then do you not give it up and take to something else?’
“‘No, it did very well for my father, who at his death recommended me to continue it and leave it to my sons and grandsons, who should also be brought up to the trade. I have done so, but it is a hard struggle for three of us to live by it.’
“I then suggested that one or more of his sons should learn the new method of basket-making, which would improve his business at once. This idea did not seem to be received favorably by the old man and the eldest son; but the boy caught at it and asked if he could go and learn. Encouraged by his evident willingness, I prevailed upon the father to allow me to place his son in the Industrial School, where I hear he has made certain progress in his art.” The Turkish mechanic has no power of invention, and his work lacks finish; but he is capable of imitating with some success any design shown to him.
The life led by the Turkish tradespeople is extremely monotonous and brightened by no intellectual pleasures. The shopkeeper, on leaving his house at dawn, goes to the coffee-house, takes his small cup of coffee, smokes his pipe, chats with the habitués of the place, and then proceeds to his business, which is carried on with Oriental languor throughout the day. At sunset he again resorts to the coffee-house to take the same refreshment and enjoy the innovation of having a newspaper read to him—a novelty now much appreciated by the lower classes. He then returns to the bosom of his family in time for the evening meal. His home is clean though very simple; his wife and daughters are ignorant and never taught a trade by which they might earn anything. Embroidery, indispensable in a number of useless articles that serve to figure in the trousseau of every Turkish girl, and latterly coarse needle and crochet work, fill up part of the time, while the mothers attend to their household affairs. The young children are sent to the elementary school, and the boys either go to school or are apprenticed to some trade.
A considerable proportion of the Turks belong to the army. The officers, however, unlike those of their class in Europe, do not enjoy the prestige or rank to which the merits of the profession entitle them. It follows that the individuality of the officer is not taken into account: if he possesses any special ability, it is overlooked so long as superiority of rank does not enforce it and obtain for him proper respect from soldiers and civilians. A Turkish captain does not receive much more consideration from his senior officer than does a common private; and in a moment of anger his colonel or general may strike and use foul and abusive language to him: a major is barely secure from such treatment. There are certainly men of merit and education among the officers of the Turkish army, whose behavior, like that of the soldiers, is much praised by those who have had the opportunity of seeing the admirable manner in which they conducted themselves in the late war. Unfortunately it is principally in individual cases that this can be admitted, and it can by no means apply to the whole body of officers.
When not in active service Turkish officers generally have their wives and families in the towns in which they are stationed. The pay of an officer under the rank of a general is very inadequate and is irregularly received—a fact sadly evident in their neglected and disordered appearance. With boots down at heel and coats minus half the buttons, they may often be seen purchasing their own food in the market and carrying it home in their hands.
The young officers who have pursued their studies in the military schools present a marked contrast to these. They are well dressed and have an air of smartness, and in military science they are said to be far more advanced than those who have preceded them. The training they receive, however, is by no means a perfect one, and much will be needed before the Turkish officer can rise to a level with the European.