The priests, or Mullahs, affect much the same style of garb; and, as I write, one whom I knew rises up before me. His was a most imposing personality. Of middle height, he seemed much taller by reason of his large white turban and ample robe of dark blue that flowed to his ankles, revealing heel-less shoes of bright yellow leather. Round in shape, his head was shaven, and his beard was trimmed to a point and stained with henna. About his waist a white shawl was wrapped six times, and into it was tucked a big striped cotton handkerchief. In his hand he carried a rosary composed of a hundred clay beads, and, when he walked, the dignity of his demeanour was further enhanced by a long white mantle which he wore flung over his right shoulder.
Persians eschew gaudy colours and striking contrasts in dress, preferring quiet shades and harmonious combinations; dull reds, dim blues, and sombre greens being favourite tints. The diplomatic uniform is black, the front of the tight coat one blaze of gold embroidery; and the official sword is suspended from a narrow belt.
In Turkey, as elsewhere, international intercourse has gradually led to the disappearance of those salient features which make for the characteristic in dress. In Constantinople the official classes wear the conventional garb of Western Europe, with the one noteworthy exception of the fez, a red cloth cap surmounted by a black silk tassel. French fashions are permitted in the privacy of the harem, but etiquette decrees that the women, before they go out, shall exchange these for a simple toilet of nun-like severity; and the ladies of the Sultan's household, who are never seen in public unless in a carriage or boat, don an all-enveloping mantle of black silk in winter and of some light shade in summer; and over this two white veils are worn. The first covers the face as far as the bridge of the nose, and the second is drawn across the brows, shrouding the head and leaving only the eyes visible. But in truth these yashmaks are so transparent that they serve to enhance rather than conceal the charms, natural and artificial, of the wearer. Through the shimmering white drapery the flower-decked hair is clearly seen, and romantic in the extreme is the effect of a small boat with three rowers, and a veiled figure under a fluttering lace parasol, gliding swiftly over the sun-kissed waters of the Bosphorus.
The walking dress in vogue in modern Constantinople is even plainer. It consists of a black silk skirt and a silk cape to the waist, the cape being provided with an additional piece to cover the head, and an essential complement is a short veil of close black net. In summer black is exchanged for light colours, but the style remains the same.
The priests, with true ecclesiastical fidelity to tradition, have remained constant to the old-world style of dressing; and to this day they cut picturesque figures in a red fez encircled by a narrow white turban, loose trousers kept in place by a cashmere shawl, dark yellow in colour and of great beauty of design, and a black caftan, a garment almost identical with that of the cassock worn by the clergy of the Church of England.
Another survival which is familiar to the casual visitor to Constantinople is the dress of certain labourers, consisting of baggy pantaloons to the knee or a little beyond, red shoes, a long sleeved cotton shirt, and a short, sleeveless jacket of blue or black material, a red fez, and a coloured shawl about the waist.
Formerly fur trimmings denoted great opulence and luxury, and the skins most favoured were ermine, sable, marten, white fox, and squirrel, which were changed according to a prescribed formula. The date for one to be discarded and another substituted was fixed by the Sultan, who usually elected to appear in new clothes on a Friday, when attending mosque. The Grand Vizier was officially notified of the intended change, whereupon he immediately sent word to the entire Court, who hastened to follow the sovereign's example.
The outdoor dress of ladies in those days was a lengthy mantle of dark material, which boasted long sleeves and a deep sailor collar of red, blue, or green satin; essential accessories being the two white veils and top boots of yellow morocco. Heavy and sumptuous, the gown worn at home consisted of baggy trousers of thin texture drawn in tightly at the ankles, supplemented by a long sleeved chemisette of white muslin trimmed with a peculiar kind of lace. This was met at the bust by the dress proper, a trailing robe of rich material encircled by an embroidered belt fastened by a jewelled clasp and drawn down very low in front. The sleeveless velvet mantle was edged with velvet and fell to the ground, and on the head was a high turban of embroidered muslin surrounded by a gold fillet set with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds. The hair was cut in a straight fringe across the forehead, and arranged in bands over the ears.
Turkish women have always displayed a great fondness for jewellery, and modern etiquette renders a diamond tiara incumbent upon the bride of any social standing whatsoever.
Much of the fascination of the desert, its mystery and its appeal to the imagination, is embodied in the Arab. The eye travels over the tall figure, straight as a palm tree, draped in the long folds of the burnous, with the same baffled sense of inquiry, the same subdued excitement and expectation with which it looks across the arid sand stretching out to the horizon and beyond. What restless fever consumes this statuesque figure, impelling him ever to be on the move? Where does his quest lead amid the dunes and burning sand, and what is the power that keeps him eternally a wanderer in that silent land? Vaguely one realises the subtle affinity between the two—the nameless spell which the desert casts over her sons.