No traveller should leave Constantinople without paying a visit to the Fèz Manufactory of Eyoub, where all the caps for the Sultan’s armies are now made. The building, which is entirely modern, and admirably adapted to its purpose, stands in the port, near the palace of Azmè Sultane, on the site of an ancient Imperial residence. It is under the control of Omer Lufti Effendi, late Governor of Smyrna, a man of known probity and talent:[10] and its immediate superintendence has been intrusted to Mustapha Effendi; whose ready courtesy to strangers enables European travellers to form an accurate idea of the state and progress of the establishment.
After a delightful row from Galata, we landed at the celebrated pier of Eyoub; and, accompanied by a personal friend of Mustapha Effendi, proceeded to the manufactory, which we entered by the women’s door. As we passed the threshold a most curious scene presented itself. About five hundred females were collected together in a vast hall, awaiting the delivery of the wool which they were to knit; and a more extraordinary group could not perhaps be found in the world.
There was the Turkess with her yashmac folded closely over her face, and her dark feridjhe falling to the pavement: the Greek woman, with her large turban, and braided hair, covered loosely with a scarf of white muslin, her gay-coloured dress, and large shawl: the Armenian, with her dark bright eyes flashing from under the jealous screen of her carefully-arranged veil, and her red slipper peeping out under the long wrapping cloak: the Jewess, muffled in a coarse linen cloth, and standing a little apart, as though she feared to offend by more immediate contact; and among the crowd some of the loveliest girls imaginable.
At the moment of our arrival, Mustapha Effendi was at prayers; and we accordingly seated ourselves to await him in an inner apartment, well-carpeted, and occupied by half a dozen clerks, who were busily employed in recording the quantity of wool delivered to each applicant: their seats were divided from the women’s hall by a partition about breast-high; and I remarked that the prettiest girls were always those whose accounts were the most tedious.
On the other side of this spacious office was a wool-store, where a score of individuals were busily employed in weighing and delivering out the wool; and all were so active, and so earnest in their occupation, that the most sceptical European would have been compelled to admit, when looking on them, that the Turk is no longer the supine and spiritless individual which he has been so long considered.
Immediately that his prayer was completed, Mustapha Effendi invited us to pass into his private room; a pleasant apartment opening to the water, and most luxuriously cushioned. Here coffee and chibouks were served; after which a couple of the knitters were introduced, in order that we might see the different qualities of wool, necessary to the manufacture of the various kinds of fèz.
During their performance, Mustapha Effendi asked many questions relatively to Europe; and particularly how the English government were now disposed towards the Turks; and expressed his curiosity to learn the impression which the present state of the people had made upon ourselves. He appeared to have been piqued by some American travellers who had visited the establishment; for at the close of the conversation he said earnestly; “Europe begins to know us better; and the Franks to judge us more honestly—Inshallàh—I trust in God, that the day will yet come when we shall be able to convince even the Americans, that we are not wild beasts anxious to devour them.”
When we had passed an hour with the Superintendent, we proceeded to inspect the establishment, which is on a very extensive scale, three thousand workmen being constantly employed. The workshops are spacious, airy, and well-conducted; the wool, having been spread over a stone-paved room on the ground-floor, where it undergoes saturation with oil, is weighed out to the carders, and thence passes into the hands of the spinners, where it is worked into threads of greater or less size, according to the quality of fèz for which it is to be made available. The women then receive it in balls, each containing the quantity necessary for a cap; and these they take home by half a dozen or a dozen at a time, to their own houses, and on restoring them receive a shilling for each of the coarse; and seventeen pence for each of the fine ones.
The next process is the most inconvenient, although perhaps the most simple of the whole. As soon as spun, the caps are washed with cold water and soap; but, there being no rush of water sufficiently strong in the immediate vicinity of the capital, they are obliged to be sent to Smit, distant about ten leagues, where they are scoured and dried, and ultimately returned to Eyoub, in order to be completed. Each fèz then undergoes three different operations of clipping and pressing; and at the termination of the third has no longer the slightest appearance of knitted wool, but all the effect of a fine close cloth. The next process is that of dyeing the cap a rich deep crimson; and herein existed a difficulty which has been but lately overcome, and of which I shall give an account when I have sketched the whole routine of the manufacture.
Having been immersed during several hours in large coppers constantly stirred, and kept upon the boil, the caps are flung into a marble trough filled with running water, where they are trodden by a couple of men; and afterwards given to the blockers, who stretch them over earthen moulds to enable them to take a good shape. They are subsequently removed to the drying-room, where they are kept in a perpetual current of air until all the damp is removed; and thence delivered up to the head workmen, who raise the nap of the wool with the head of the bullrush, and then clip it away with huge shears; precisely as cloth is dressed in England. Pressing follows, and the fèz is ultimately carried to the marker, who works into the crown the private cypher of the manufacture, and affixes the short cord of crimson which is to secure the flock or tassel of purple silk, with its whimsical appendage of cut paper. The last operation is that of sewing on the tassels: and packing the caps into parcels containing half a dozen each, stamped with the Imperial seal.