CHAPTER XXVI.
Repetition—The Esplanade—The Kiosk and the Pavilion—A Short Cut—Dense Crowd—A Friend at Court—Curious Coup d’Œil—The Arena—The Orchestra—First Act of the Comedy—Disgusting Exhibition—The Birth of the Ballet—Dancing Boys—Second Act of the Drama—Insult to the Turkish Women—The Provost Marshal—Yusuf Pasha, the Traitor—Clemency of the Sultan—Forbearance of an Oriental Mob—Renewal of the Ballet—Last Act of the Drama—Theatrical Decorations—Watch-dogs and Chinese—Procession of the Trades—Frank Merchants—Thieves and Judges—Bedouin Tumblers—Fondness of the Pashas for Dancing—The Wise Men of the East.
It were worse than idle to follow the daily progress of the Fêtes. It were but to weary the reader with repetitions, or to delude him with fictions; for the same actors being engaged during the whole of the festival, only varied their exhibitions sufficiently to emancipate themselves from the reproach of actual repetition. So monotonous, indeed, did I find the second representation I was induced to witness, that I never ventured upon a third.
I have already mentioned that the Esplanade of the Grand Armoury had been selected as one of the spots upon which the sports were to take place; but I learnt from an individual who had possessed himself of the important secret, that the principal performers were to exhibit on a piece of land situated between the palace walls, and the kiosk in which the Pashas did the honours to the dinner-guests of the Sultan, after the termination of their repast; while a garden Pavilion, whose windows opened upon this space, was to be tenanted by his Sublime Highness, his Imperial daughters, the Sultana, their mother, and half a dozen of the most favoured ladies of the harem, who, from the painted lattices, could look forth upon the scene.
This arrangement sufficiently attested the superiority of the situation; and, accordingly, avoiding the crowd of the Champs des Morts, and the thronged descent into the valley, we drove across the hills beyond the Military College; and then, skirting the height above Dolma Batchè, suddenly descended almost under the walls of the Palace. But the chosen spot was surrounded by guards, and the crowd were clustered densely in their rear; so densely, indeed, that the arabadjhe declared our further progress to be altogether impracticable.
From this dilemma we were fortunately extricated by an officer of Achmet Pasha’s household; who, perceiving the difficulty, hastened to remove it, which he effected in no very gentle manner by striking the individuals who impeded our passage right and left with the flat of his sword, until he established us immediately behind the line of military.
The performances had not yet commenced, and I had consequently time to contemplate the animated scene before me. On my right was the kiosk, whose wide casements were crowded with Pashas; on my left the Garden Pavilion, which had the honour of screening from the gaze of the vulgar the Brother of the Sun and his train of attendant beauties; behind me rose the hill whose summit was covered with the tents of the Imperial suite, and whose rise was occupied by a crowd of Turkish females; and before me stretched the Bosphorus. A small opening, leading down from the arena towards the shore, was occupied by a detachment of military: and beneath the windows of the kiosk, mats had been spread for about a hundred women, who were comfortably established under the long shadows of the building.
At the other extremity of the circle, thirteen Jews, seated crescent-wise, were playing upon tambourines; while as many more, squatted in their rear, were each beating upon a sort of coarse drum, whose only attribute was noise; and the time to be observed by the musicians was regulated by an individual, with a venerable white beard and a staff of office. This head-splitting orchestra continued to accompany the whole performance, with very slight intervals of rest; and was quite in keeping with the remainder of the exhibition.