Turkish women are very fond of their bath, and are capable of remaining for hours together in that hot and depressing atmosphere. They smoke cigarettes, eat fruits and sweets, and drink sherbet, and finally, after all the blood has rushed to their heads, and their faces are crimson, they wrap themselves in soft burnouses, and pass into the third or outer chamber, where they repose on a luxurious couch until their system shakes off part of the heat and languor that the abuse of these baths invariably produces. A bath being an indispensable appendage to every house, one is to be found in even the poorest Turkish dwelling. Some more or less resemble a regular hammam, others are of a very simple form—often a tiny cabinet attached to one of the rooms, containing a bottomless jar buried in the ground, through which the water runs. I consider these little baths, which are neither expensive nor require much space, excellent institutions in the houses of the poor as instruments of cleanliness. The constant and careful ablutions of the Turk are the principal preventives to many diseases, from which they are, comparatively speaking, freer than most nations.
The public baths, resorted to by all classes, are to be found in numbers in every town. They are fine buildings, exact copies of the old Roman baths, many of which are still in existence, defying the march of centuries and the work of decay. Like the home baths, they consist of three spacious apartments. The outer bath-room is a large stone building lighted by a cupola, with wooden platforms running all round, upon which small mattresses and couches are spread for the men; but the women, not having the same privilege, are obliged to bring their own rugs, upon which they deposit their clothes, tied up in bundles, when they enter, and repose and dress upon them on coming out of the bath. A fountain of cold water is considered indispensable in this apartment, and in the basin surrounding it may be seen water-melons floating about, placed there to cool while their owners are in the inner bath.
The bath itself contains a number of small rooms, each of which can be separately engaged by a party, or used in common with the other bathers. It is needless to say that the baths used by men are either separate or are open at different hours.
Turkish women, independently of their home baths, must resort at least once a month to the public hammam. They like it for many reasons, but principally because it is the only place where they can meet to chat over the news of the day and their family affairs.
Some of these baths, especially the mineral ones at Broussa, are of the finest description. Gurgutly, containing the sulphureous springs, is renowned for the remarkable efficacy of its waters, its immense size, and the elegant and curious style of its architecture. It comprises two very large apartments, one for the use of the bathers previous to their entering the bath, the other the bath itself. This is an immense room, with niches all round containing fountains in the form of shells, which receive part of the running stream; in front of these are wooden platforms, on which the bathers collect for the purpose of washing their heads and scrubbing their bodies. On the left, as you enter, stands an immense marble basin, seven feet in length and three in width, into which the mother stream gushes with impetuous force. From this it runs into a large round basin about ten feet in depth, in which dozens of women and children may be seen swimming, an exhausting process, owing to the high temperature of the water and its sulphureous qualities. This wonderful basin is in the shape of a reversed dome, sunk into the marble floor, which is supported underneath by massive columns.
Coffee-houses are to be met with everywhere, and are very numerous in the towns. The Turks resort to them when they leave their homes early in the morning, to take a cup of coffee and smoke a nargilé before going to business. In the evening, too, they step in to have a chat with their neighbors and hear the news of the day. Turkish newspapers have become pretty common of late in these quiet rendezvous, and are to be found in the most unpretending ones. Few of these establishments possess an inviting exterior or can boast any arrangements with regard to comfort or accommodation; a few mats placed upon benches, and a number of common osier-seated chairs and stools, are the seats afforded in them. Small gardens may be found attached to some, while others atone for the deficiencies of their interiors by the lovely situations they occupy in this picturesque and luxurious land.
CHAPTER X.
THE SERAGLIO.
The Chain of Palaces along the Bosphorus—Eski Serai, the oldest of the Seraglios—Its Site and Appearance—Beauty of its Gardens—Contrasts—Its Destruction—Dolma-Bagché and Begler-Bey—Enormous Expenditure of Abdul-Medjid and Abdul-Aziz on Seraglios—Yahlis, or Villas—Begler-Bey furnished for Illustrious Guests—Delicate Attentions of the Sultan—Furniture of Seraglios—Mania of Abdul-Aziz—Everything Inflammable thrown into the Bosphorus—Pleasure Grounds—Interior Divisions of the Seraglio—The Mabeyn—The Padishah en négligé—Imperial Expenditure—Servants, etc.—Food—Wages—Stables—Fine Art—Origin of the Inmates of the Seraglio—Their Training—Adjemis—A Training-School for the Seraglio—Ranks in the Seraglio—The Bash Kadin Effendi and other Wives—Hanoums, or Odalisks—Favorites—Equal Chances of Good Fortune—Ceremonies attending the Sultan’s Selection of an Odalisk—A Slave seldom sees the Sultan more than once—Consequent Loss of Dignity and Misery for the rest of her Life—Precarious Position of Imperial Favorites—Intrigues and Cabals in the Seraglio—Good Fortune of the Odalisk who bears a Child—Fashions in Beauty—Golden Hair—The Validé Sultana—The Hasnadar Ousta—Ignorance and Vice of the Seraglio Women—The Better Class—The Consumptive Class—The “Wild Serailis”—Amusements of the Seraglio—Theatre—Ballet—Shopping—Garden Parties in Abdul-Medjid’s Time—Imperial Children—Foster-Brothers—Bad Training and Deficient Education of Turkish Princes and Princesses.
There are more than twenty Imperial Palaces, variously named, according to their size and character, seraglios, yahlis, and kiosks, scattered about Constantinople, some on the Bosphorus, others inland, but all equally to be admired as striking spectacles of Eastern magnificence. Dolma-Bagché and Beshiktash, linked with other mansions and kiosks, mingling European architecture with Oriental decoration, form a chain of splendid palaces such as can be seen nowhere but on the historic shores of the Bosphorus.
The most renowned of the Ottoman palaces was Eski Serai, on the point of land where the Bosphorus enters the Sea of Marmora. Built on the site of old Byzantium by Mehemet II., this celebrated palace was enlarged and beautified according to the wants and caprices of each successive sultan. It presented to the eye a crowded pile of vast irregular buildings, crowned by gilded cupolas and girt with shaded gardens. Beautiful mosques, varied with hospitals and other charitable foundations, were scattered about in detached groups, amid clusters of stately cypresses and the burial-grounds of kings. Here might be seen a gorgeous pavilion, there a cool jet, here again a mysterious building with high impenetrable walls and latticed windows, the monotonous dwelling-place of bright young creatures who, once engaged, were rarely permitted to regain their freedom. And there, dwarfing all else, rose the tall white minarets, accenting their clear outlines against the tender sky of the East. In this irregular confusion the artist saw one of the choicest sights of the capital; and a closer view offered to the curious a clear and minute conception of the palace of an Eastern despot.