My pen wearies of its office, as I pursue the detail of the morning’s performance; but I compel myself to the task, in order to convey to my readers an accurate idea of the Turkish drama—for this coarse, revolting, and aimless exhibition, whose description I have commenced, is the highest effort that the histrionic art has yet made in Turkey; and I am bound to add that the effect which it produced upon the spectators was one of unequivocal gratification.
The retreat of the Jewish party was succeeded by the arrival of a group of ballet dancers, consisting of about a score of youths from fourteen to twenty years of age, dressed in a rich costume of satin, fringed and ribbed with gold, varying in colour, according to the fancy of the wearer. They all wore their own long hair, curled in ringlets, and floating about their shoulders; and their appearance was so extremely disagreeable, notwithstanding the splendour of their costume, that I was surprised to learn that they all belonged to the Sultan, or to different wealthy Pashas, who take so much delight in seeing them dance as to keep several constantly in their pay.
As I had been assured that the whole of the exhibition remained precisely similar to the scenic amusements of the ancient Romans, I contemplated it with more patience than I should otherwise have been able to exert: for I soon discovered that the dancing was quite upon a par with the dramatic portion of the entertainment. If that upon which I now looked were indeed the germ whence sprang the most graceful and the most elegant of all the movements of which the human form is susceptible—if this were indeed the birth of the Ballet—then is it a fair child that may truly blush for its parentage: for the exhibition was coarse, monotonous, and wearisome, nor did it possess one redeeming attribute. An unceasing circuit of the enclosure—a wreathing of arms and handkerchiefs—an affected inclination of the head first to the one side, and then to the other—a beating of feet upon the earth, and a succession of prostrations before the Pashas, appeared to be the extent of talent of which the dancers were capable; and the only variation that I was able to discover was an increase of speed, which rendered the heavy movements of the exhibitors only the more conspicuous. The very appearance, moreover, of this party of petticoated and long-haired youths was revolting to my English ideas: and, despite the acclamations with which they were liberally greeted, I felt glad when they made their parting obeisance, and gave place to the second series of performers.
A Turk, fèzed and coated, next entered upon the scene—a sort of Oriental Jacques, melancholy and gentlemanlike, who told a tale of blighted love, and consequent sadness; at whose termination he was accosted by the buffoon, who in his turn delivered a panegyric on the loveliness of the veiled beauties of Stamboul, which however failed in its effect upon the slighted suitor; who, with sundry contortions, and wringings of the hands, professed his inability ever to love again.
The buffoon, resolved, as it appeared, to make trial of his constancy; or outraged at the affectation of so anti-Turkish a display of sensibility, shortly withdrew; and returned accompanied by three of the Ballet dancers, disguised as females, and wearing the yashmac and the feridjhe. Of course, curiosity succeeded to indifference, and passion to curiosity; and a scene of love-making ensued, that consisted of attempts to induce the ladies to unveil; experiments with the swing, which occasionally broke down to the great amusement of the spectators; and energetic asseverations on the one part and the other.
During the scene, the principal dancer, who personated the attractive fair-one, displayed considerable talent in his part; the feridjhe was thrown aside; and those Franks who were present, and who could not necessarily hope to gain even a glimpse of a Turkish female in the costume of the harem, had here an excellent opportunity of forming an idea of their appearance; and not only of their appearance, but of their manners also, for the resemblance was perfect; and, to render the ridicule still more complete, the dress was that of the last Palace adoption—the antery and trowsers, wedded to the wadded silk jacket and gigot sleeves!
In the course of the performance, he danced the dance of the harem, with a degree of skill that few of the female dancers ever attain; and which elicited great applause from the audience; and, had the exhibition ended here, it would have been rather absurd than revolting; but the jealous Musselmauns, who veil the casements of their harems with lattices, and the faces of their women with yashmacs, sat not only quietly but admiringly by, while all, and probably more than all, the secrets of the interior were laid bare, and caricatured for the amusement of the vulgar. There could not have been a high-minded Turkish woman present, who did not blush at least as deeply for her husband as for herself; and not a pure-hearted female of any nation, who did not feel more contempt for the instigators of the insult than for its objects.
Not one of the least extraordinary portions of the day’s performances was enacted by a young Pasha, recently promoted to that distinguished rank, with the additional titles of General, and Provost-Marshal of the Ottoman armies. This very heavy and coarse-looking individual, who was formerly Commandant of the Military College in its days of neglect and utter uselessness, is the son of Yusuf Pasha, the treacherous Chief who sold Varna to the Russians, and escaped into the Northern States, where he remained secure, until the kind-hearted Nicholas had wrung his pardon from the betrayed Sultan; who in his plenitude of mercy not only forgave the crime of his false servant, but rewarded his affected penitence with the Pashalik of Belgrade, which he now enjoys.
Mustapha Pasha, his son, figured on the occasion of the Fêtes with a diamond star upon his breast, and grasping a whip bound with gold wire, and furnished with a long lash, which he laid about the heads and shoulders of the mob with a most lavish hand, whenever they advanced an inch or two beyond their allotted boundary. I confess that I could not help smiling as I pictured to myself the reception which His Highness Mustapha Pasha, General of Brigade, and Provost Marshal of the Ottoman Armies, would have received from a sturdy English mob, when they felt his long whip among them! I suspect that his labours would have been brief, and his office not altogether a safe one.
Could I have disengaged my carriage from the crowd, I should at once have retired, perfectly satisfied with the specimen I had obtained of the Turkish taste in theatricals; but the arabas were standing four deep, and pressed upon from behind by a dense mob; and I was consequently compelled to remain a patient spectator of the whole performance. Intrigues with Greek serving-men, domestic quarrels ending in blows, and similarly well-conceived incidents, filled up the canvass, until the end of the second act, when a fresh set of ballet dancers, amounting to nearly one hundred, and clad in the beautiful old Greek dress, entered, and made their bow to the Pashas.