MRS. STRAUS IN TURKEY
During the weeks that I waited for my audience with the Sultan I devoted my time to studying in detail the various questions in regard to our diplomatic relations, so that I might be better informed when they came up. This study was very interesting from an historical point of view, for some of the questions were related to capitulations that dated as far back as the fall of Constantinople in 1453. My legal training also proved valuable in enabling me to understand and handle matters.
On our first Friday in Constantinople we witnessed Selamlik, the picturesque ceremony held with great pomp every Friday, attending the Sultan's going to the mosque. The Sultan's mosque is on the top of a hill commanding the most beautiful view of the city, from which can be seen the Bosphorus and, farther on, the Sea of Marmora. On the roads surrounding the mosque as far as the eye could see were ranged ten or more regiments of infantry and cavalry, each dressed in glittering uniforms according to the section of the empire from which they came, the most resplendent being the Nubian and the Arabian. The Sultan arrived in an open landau, and opposite him Osman Pasha, distinguished soldier, hero of the Battle of Plevna in the Russo-Turkish War, and Grand Marshal of the Palace. The coachman was magnificently dressed in scarlet and gold, and following were the aides-de-camp, also beautifully dressed, one, an Armenian, all in white and gold. As the Sultan entered the mosque a priest chanted a call to prayer which sounded not unlike the old Hebrew chants in some of our synagogues. The mosque was so crowded that we could see many Moslems kneeling and salaaming on the streets outside the doors. The service lasted about twenty minutes, whereupon the bands played and the Sultan reviewed his troops from one of the windows of the mosque. He then returned to the Palace in a beautiful top phaëton drawn by two horses, which he drove himself, again with Osman Pasha opposite, followed by his aides and the carriage that had brought him. Usually several carriages, open and closed, also several saddle horses, are brought from the royal stables to the mosque, that the Sultan may take his choice for his return to the Palace.
It is expected as a display of good will that the ministers and ambassadors occasionally attend this ceremony. It was practically the only occasion on which Abdul Hamid appeared in public, for he constantly feared assassination, and his expression showed his timidity. Following Selamlik he quite frequently arranged to receive in audience. In the kiosque or small house beside the mosque, there is a special suite of rooms reserved for the diplomatic corps. An aide informs the Sultan what diplomatic representatives or other persons of distinction are at the kiosque, to each of whom His Majesty then sends some gracious message. While prayers are being said in the mosque, the guests at the kiosque are served coffee and cigarettes.
One of the persons whom I met shortly after my arrival in the city was Sir Henry Drummond Wolff, who was in Constantinople as Britain's special envoy to negotiate a convention regarding the withdrawal of British troops from Egypt. He had a suite at our hotel where we saw each other frequently and became very good friends. Drummond Wolff, as he was usually spoken of to distinguish him from the several other prominent Wolffs, was certainly a remarkable and clever man, and a great raconteur. He was then in his late fifties, had had wide experience as a diplomat, and was thoroughly familiar with the Turkish temperament. In fact, he was at home in all that part of the world. He was born in Malta, the son of the famous missionary, Rev. Joseph Wolff, a Jew who became a convert first to Catholicism and then to Episcopalianism, being ordained as priest in the Church of England. While in America he received the degree of Doctor of Theology from the College of St. John's, Annapolis, Maryland.
Sir Henry advised me in dealing with the Turkish authorities always to be patient, pleasant, persistent. He also impressed upon me the importance of maintaining the most cordial relations with my colleagues and of returning all hospitalities; that a well-disposed colleague can often be of incalculable assistance in inducing the authorities to accede to any proper demand one might have to make. However, his own relations with the British ambassador, Sir William White, were not so friendly. The estrangement between them was quite evident, caused no doubt by personal jealousy, which is so likely to result between a special envoy and the regularly accredited representative of the same country in a given territory.
We stayed at the Royal only about ten days, and then moved to summer quarters in a hotel at Therapia, a name given to the district some three thousand years ago by the Greeks because of its healthful and balmy climate. Here, too, Drummond Wolff had a neighboring suite, and later, when by reason of a longer stay than anticipated he was obliged to give up his apartment before he was ready, we put a portion of ours at his disposal, which he much appreciated. It was a very pleasant arrangement, and diplomatically no less profitable. We dined together every evening, and often in our party were also Prince Ghika, Roumanian chargé, and the Princess; Baron Van Tetz, Dutch minister, and the Baroness. The Baron was later accredited to Berlin, and then made Minister of Foreign Affairs in his own country. He has now retired and at this writing he and the Baroness still live at The Hague. They are charming people.