Sceptres and power are His alone,
My fate is written on my brow,
Lowly I bend before His Throne.
Turning towards the window the Sultan noticed that one of his much-prized iron-clads had been placed in front of the Yahli which served as his prison, with the guns pointed towards him. But a still more appalling sight met his gaze. A sailor was seized by a few of his comrades, who, pointing him out to the Sultan, passed a crimson kushak or girdle round his neck and led him three times round the deck, signifying to the unfortunate captive that in three days he would undergo the same operation. Pointing this out to the Validé Sultana, he exclaimed, with emotion, “Mother! see to what use the force I have created for the preservation and aggrandizement of my empire is applied! This is evidently the death reserved for me.” A belt containing some of the most valuable crown-jewels, which the Sultan had placed on his person when leaving the palace, disappeared the day he was found dead, and has never since been heard of. The Sultan had to ask for food repeatedly before he was supplied with it, and even then what he obtained was given him on the sofra of a common soldier. On my further questioning this lady on the cause of the Sultan’s untimely end, she passed her hand over her lips, meaning they were sealed, and muttering a “Turbé Istafourla,” said, “It is not in my power to reveal more!—the justification of the dead must be withheld so long as it endangers the living. The duty of the devoted is to keep silence until history can divulge secrets that will then harm none.”
Soon after the death of Abdul-Aziz, I had occasion to discuss it with a Turkish general. Expressing his opinion of the equally unfortunate Sultan Murad, the Pasha, with smiling urbanity, said, “I cannot tell as yet; but with us, Sultans are now so numerous, that we can afford to sweep them away successively with a broom, if they do not suit us.”
Every one is acquainted with the quiet and peaceable manner in which Sultan Abdul-Aziz was dethroned in 1876, to make room for his nephew Murad. This unfortunate prince was as little acquainted with the changes that were being planned as was his uncle, and his sensitive nature, unprepared for the shock that placed him on the throne, caused him to receive the messenger who came to inform him of the change in his position more as the bearer of his sentence to death than the herald of sovereignty. Taken by surprise at the moment he was about to retire, the prince hastily put on his coat and met the vizir at the door of the Mabeyn. Deathly pale, but calm and resigned, he looked in his face, and said, “What is my offence, and whom have I ever harmed that I should thus be doomed to an untimely death?”
Entirely ignorant of the conspiracy that opened a path for him to the throne, and severely grieved for his uncle’s misfortunes, the news of his tragical end is said to have given the first shock to the young sovereign’s intellect, and, followed by the murder of the ministers, with its equally distressing details, determined the bent of his vacillating mind. One of the first symptoms of his insanity was a habit he fell into of spanning with his hand the distance between the wrist and elbow joint, striking the bend of the arm with his hand, then starting, and reflecting. I have never heard of his having broken out into acts of violence, except upon one occasion, when he raised a stick and struck his brother-in-law. On one occasion he made his escape into the garden, where he was found sitting on a marble slab, making grimaces at those who approached him. He is said to have experienced some lucid intervals; one of these chanced to be at the moment the salutes were being fired on the occasion of his brother Abdul-Hamid’s ascension to the throne. Looking at his son, a promising youth of fourteen, he said, “My boy, what is the reason of this firing?” “Oh!” said the boy, wishing to spare his father’s feelings, “it is the fête of a foreign monarch.” “No,” said the unhappy monarch, “it is the proclamation of my own dethronement, and the accession of thy uncle to the throne; God’s will be done!” Heaving a deep sigh, he shed a few tears, and, happily for him, under the circumstances, relapsed into his former state.
Sultan Murad was said to possess many of the virtues of his father, a kind and gentle disposition, and intelligence and liberality of ideas. During his short reign, the affability of his manners, and the desire he showed to please all parties, irrespective of race or religion, and to abolish the burdens that weighed upon them, had gained for him the respect and affection of his subjects, which is evinced even to the present day by sorrow and sympathy for his misfortunes.
The present Sultan at first declined the imperial throne, from feelings of affection and delicacy towards his brother, and could only be prevailed upon to accept it when all the physicians, called in for advice, pronounced Murad’s case quite hopeless. Sultan Abdul-Hamid is much esteemed and highly spoken of by persons who have had the honor of conversing with his Imperial Majesty. He is, moreover, said to be qualified for his position, being liberal in his ideas, and possessed of many of the qualities of a good sovereign, and desirous of carrying out the reforms that alone can insure the happiness of his people and restore prosperity to the country. Unfortunately, he came to the throne at a moment when the best and most gifted of sovereigns could do little single-handed. When affairs are settled, much will naturally be expected from him, which his friends and the well-wishers of Turkey feel confident he will realize.
I have not yet mentioned an important section of the Turkish community—the slaves. Slavery in Turkey is now reduced mainly to one sex. Male slaves, except in the capacity of eunuchs, are now rare, though every now and then a cargo of them is smuggled into some port and privately disposed of, since the Government professes to share the anti-slavery views of England. But female slavery is a necessary part of the seraglio and of the Turkish harem system. The seraglio is of course recruited from its numbers; and few Turks can afford to keep more than one free wife. A second wife insists upon a separate establishment, and causes endless jealousy to the first wife and trouble to the husband. But a slave is no cause of jealousy, lives in the same house as the wife, and costs much less to keep than a free woman. Female slaves, too, are generally given by fathers to their sons, to avoid the expense of a marriage; and daughters, on marrying, are always supplied with a slave as lady’s-maid. Moreover, slaves are in much request as servants, and do their work excellently, besides presenting many advantages and conveniences that are not found in free women.