I was present at an Armenian wedding, when the house was crowded by a large company composed of both sexes. The ladies, however, had almost monopolized the drawing-room, which was furnished with long Turkish sofas running round the walls on three sides, occupied by three rows of ladies. The first row were seated on the cushions, the second sat cross-legged in front, and the third contented themselves with the extreme edge, while some other ladies and a few of the other sex were favored with chairs, or walked about the room. I had prudently possessed myself of a chair, and placed it in a position to have a good coup d’œil of the scene, and be near enough to the sofa to hear and join in the conversation of some of its occupants. It was by no means an uninteresting sight; there was the bride, the queen of the fête, seated on a pile of cushions in the corner reserved for her, surrounded by the triple line of ladies representing all ages, types, and fashions. The dark and unassuming attire of the aged pleasingly contrasted with the gay dresses of the young and pretty, radiant with the glitter of jewelry and the sparkle of many pairs of bright black eyes that frequently met and questioned each other; a not unpleasant way of making up for the oriental laconism generally observed in large assemblies, when conversation is carried on in low tones, and generally consists only of a passing joke or criticism on the appearance of others of the company. Some of these remarks I found very amusing; for instance, a thin, yellow brunette said to her neighbor, “Doudou, do you notice how stiff and stately Mariemme Hanoum sits in her new polka? Her husband, Baron Carabet,[23] who has just returned from Constantinople, has brought her a machine made of whalebone and steel, in which the Franks cage their wives in order to fill up what is missing and tone down what is superfluous.” “Chok shay!”[24] exclaimed her companion, an exceedingly stout lady, casting a hasty glance over her voluminous person. “I wonder if the like is to be found in the charshi (bazar), so many articles of dress have lately been brought from Europe by one of the shopkeepers!”
This conversation was brought to an abrupt termination by the exclamation of “Ouff! Aman!” from a third lady who was sitting cross-legged, and evidently in an uncomfortable position. “Ouff! Aman!” she repeated, stretching out her feet as far as possible, and then proceeded to pull off her socks, quietly folded them up, and put them in her pocket. She was an elderly lady, evidently of the old school, for her proceedings shocked one much younger than herself seated near, and provoked from her some remark on the impropriety she had committed. The old lady, however, could not be prevailed upon to see it, and replied very quietly:
“Kesim, what does it matter? all now is ‘à la Franca,’ and we may do as we please!”
Incidents of European fashions, completely distorted into alarming caricatures, are still very frequent, and, what is more serious, are often accompanied by so great an absence of all knowledge of the rules of good breeding that everything out of the common, however free or strange it may be, is put down to the “à la Franca,” or European liberty. Only two years ago, at a ball given by one of my friends, a functionary of the Porte, Armenian by birth, coolly entered the boudoir, pulled off his boots, which were, it appears, too tight for him, and seated himself on a sofa smoking his cigarette. This gentleman was requested by the host to resume his chaussure and withdraw from the house; and yet civilized notions had so far penetrated the somewhat dull imagination of this Effendi as to have induced him to use visiting-cards upon which was engraved, together with his name, his title of “Membre perpétuel de la Justice,” surmounted by a gilt pair of scales.
Dress and amusement are thought by many to denote the degree of refinement and mental development of nations. There is certainly some truth in this theory, and I have often allowed my opinion of a people and my belief in its prosperity and progress to be guided in some degree by their apparently most trivial characteristics.
To seek through these means, however, to arrive at an estimate of the Turkish character is a somewhat difficult task. The national costume is disappearing, and is being replaced by a counterfeit or borrowed attire. With regard to amusement the difficulty becomes still greater, for all the games that were characteristic of the East, such as that of the Djerid, or throwing the lance on horseback when galloping at full speed, have fallen into disuse; together with the now forgotten races and target-practising in which the youth of the two towns used to display their splendid arms and prove their capacity for manly and warlike pursuits. The grand hunting parties, in which the grandees and even the Sultans loved to take part, now only take place occasionally, headed by some fine old governor-general of the ancient type. In such instances the chase becomes most enjoyable and delightful. Many years ago, while residing in a country town, I had several times the pleasure of taking part in these animated coursing parties organized by the governor of the town, and headed by him in person. The company would sometimes consist of twenty cavaliers, with an equal number of mounted attendants leading the capon, or fine greyhounds peculiar to Albania. Proceeding at first in a compact body across the hills, down on the fertile plains on the borders of the Maritza, as we neared the open country and descended the slopes, the cavalcade dispersed, the fiery horses could scarcely be controlled, and the dogs, trembling with excitement, strove to break from the leashes. The sportsmen in their variegated costumes, stimulated by their surroundings, lost their air of lassitude and torpor, and appeared like the traditional Osmanli of old. The scattered band of cavaliers would explore the ground until the frightened and startled animals, driven out of their haunts, would after a few bounds come to a dead stop, and then flee, pursued by the hounds and followed by the hunters.
There was something so animating in the whole scene that even a timid woman might have disregarded the danger of fracturing her collar-bone and willingly taken part in it.
The other excursions, carried on with equal spirit, consist of battues of large and small game, which take place on the estates of the beys, who issue invitations to their friends, throw open the gates of their chiftliks or farms, and receive visitors with every mark of hospitality. At dawn the whole party assembles at the appointed place, previously surrounded by the tenants and laborers belonging to the property, who beat in the game.
These parties, I am assured, are much appreciated by European sportsmen, who enjoy the wildness of the scenery, as well as the shyness of the birds, which, unlike their preserved kinsfolk in England, are complete strangers to contact with man in their unfrequented forests and plains.
An interest is still evinced by all classes in the wrestling matches which are usually held on the commons outside the towns. On these occasions the greater part of the population turns out and seats itself in a closely-packed circle. The combatants, stripped to the waist, enter the ring, encouraged by the crowd; closely watching each other’s movements, each awaits a favorable opportunity for seizing his antagonist, whom, by a dexterous catch, he hopes to throw. No animosity is displayed by any of the rivals, be they Turks, Christians, or gypsies. The spectators take a deep interest in these contests, but seldom express their approbation or disapproval in a very marked manner.