CHAPTER IV.THE TURKS.Turkish Peasants—Decrease in Numbers—Taxation and Recruiting—Relations with the Christians—Appearance—Amusements—House and Family—Townspeople—Guilds—Moslems and Christians—The Turk as an Artisan—Objection to Innovations—Life in the Town—The Military Class—Government Officials—Pashas—Grand Vizirs—Receptions—A Turkish Lady’s Life—The Princes—The Sultan—Mahmoud—His Reforms—Abdul-Medjid—Abdul-Aziz—Character and Fate—Murad—Abdul-Hamid—Slavery in Turkey.
Turkish Peasants—Decrease in Numbers—Taxation and Recruiting—Relations with the Christians—Appearance—Amusements—House and Family—Townspeople—Guilds—Moslems and Christians—The Turk as an Artisan—Objection to Innovations—Life in the Town—The Military Class—Government Officials—Pashas—Grand Vizirs—Receptions—A Turkish Lady’s Life—The Princes—The Sultan—Mahmoud—His Reforms—Abdul-Medjid—Abdul-Aziz—Character and Fate—Murad—Abdul-Hamid—Slavery in Turkey.
The Turkish peasants inhabiting the rural districts of Bulgaria, Macedonia, Epirus, and Thessaly, although the best, most industrious, and useful of the Sultan’s Mohammedan subjects, everywhere evince signs of poverty, decrease in numbers, and general deterioration. This fact is evident even to the mere traveller, from the wretchedness and poverty-stricken appearance of Turkish villages, with their houses mostly tumbling to pieces. The inhabitants, unable to resist the drain upon them in time of war when the youngest and most vigorous men are taken away for military service, often abandon their dwellings and retire to more populous villages or towns: the property thus abandoned goes to ruin, and the fields in the same manner become waste. This evil, which has increased since the more regular enforcement of the conscription, may be traced to three principal sources: the first is the unequal manner in which the conscription laws are carried out upon this submissive portion of the people; the second is the want of laborers, the inevitable consequence of the recruiting system, whereby the best hands are drawn away annually at the busiest and most profitable time of the year, to the great and sometimes irreparable injury of industry; the third is the irregular and often unjust manner in which the taxes are levied. Under these unencouraging circumstances the disabled old men, the wild boys, and the women (who are never trained to work and are consequently unfit for it), are left behind to continue the labor of the conscripts, and struggle on as well as indolent habits and natural incapacity for hard work will allow them. The large villages will soon share the fate of the small ones and be engulfed in the same ruin, unless radical changes are introduced for the benefit of the Turkish peasants. Their condition requires careful and continued attention at the hands of a good and equitable administration.
The Turkish peasant is a good, quiet, and submissive subject, who refuses neither to furnish his Sultan with troops nor to pay his taxes, so far as in him lies; but he is poor, ignorant, helpless, and improvident to an almost incredible degree. At the time of recruiting he will complain bitterly of his hard lot, but go all the same to serve his time; he groans under the heavy load of taxation, gets imprisoned, and is not released until he manages to pay his dues.
He is generally discontented with his government, of which he openly complains, and still more with its agents, with whom he is brought into closer contact; but still the idea of rebelling against either, giving any signs of disaffection, or attempting to resist the law, never gets any hold upon him. His relations with his Christian neighbors vary greatly with the locality and the personal character of both. In some places Christian and Turkish peasants, in times of peace, live in tolerable harmony, in others a continual warfare of complaints on one side and acts of oppression on the other is kept up. The only means of securing peace to both is to separate the two parties, and compel each to rest solely upon its own exertions and resources, and to prove its worth in the school of necessity. An English gentleman owning a large estate in Macedonia used to assert that until the Christian peasant adopts a diet of beer and beef, nothing will be made of him; in the same manner I think that until the Turk is cured of his bad habit of employing by hook or by crook Petcho and Yancho to do his work for him, he will never be able to do it himself.
The Turkish peasant is well built and strong, and possesses extraordinary power of endurance. His mode of living is simple, his habits sober; unlike the Christians of his class he has no dance, no village feast, and no music but a kind of drum or tambourine, to vary the monotony of his life. His cup of coffee and his chibouk contain for him all the sweets of existence. The coffee is takenbefore the labors of the day are begun, and again in the evening at thecafiné. His work is often interrupted in order to enjoy the chibouk, which he smokes crouched under a tree or wall. His house is clean but badly built, cold in winter and hot in summer, possessing little in the way of furniture but bedding, mats, rugs, and kitchen utensils. He is worse clad than the Christian peasant, and his wife and children still worse; yet the women are content with their lot, and in their ignorance and helplessness do not try, like the Christian women, to better their condition by their individual exertions; they are irreproachable and honest in their conduct, and capable of enduring great trials. Some are very pretty; they keep much at home, the young girls seldom gather together for fun and enjoyment except at a wedding or circumcision ceremony, when they sing and play together, while the matrons gossip over their private affairs and those of their neighbors. The girls are married young to peasants of their own or some neighboring village. Polygamy is rare among Turkish peasants, and they do not often indulge in the luxury of divorce.
On the whole the Turkish peasant, though not a model of virtue, is a good sort of man, and would be much better if he had not the habit in times of national trouble to take upon him the name of Bashi-Bazouk, and to transform himself into a ruffian.
Turks, generally speaking, prefer town to country life; for in towns they enjoy more frequent opportunities of indulging in thatdolce far nientewhich has become an integral part of the Turkish character and has entirely routed his original nomadic disposition.
The tradespeople of the towns are ranged intoesnafs, or guilds, and form separate corporations, some of which include Christians when they happen to be engaged in the same pursuits. Thus there are theesnafsof barbers, linen-drapers, greengrocers, grooms, etc. These bodies, strange to say, in the midst of general disunion and disorganization, are governed by fixed laws and regulations faithfully observed by Christians and Turks alike, and the rival worshippers, bound only by the obligation of good faith and honor towards each other, pull together much better and show a greater regard for justice and impartiality than is evinced by any other portion of the community. Every corporation elects one or two chiefs, who regulate all disputes and settle any difficulties that may arise among the members. TheseOustas, or chiefs, are master-workmen in their different trades. The apprentices are calledChiraks, and obtain promotion, according to their ability, after a certain number of years. When considered sufficiently advanced in their business, the master, with the consent and approval of the corporation, admits them into the fraternity, and gives them the choice of entering into partnership with him or beginning business on their own account.
The grooms yearly elect a chief in each town, calledSeis Bashi, through whom, for a small fee, grooms may be obtained with greater security than otherwise for their good behavior and capability. The meetings, orlonjas, of thisesnaf, are held pretty frequently in coffee-houses, where the affairs of the corporation are regulated, and the meeting generally terminates in an orgy; after which the grooms retire to their stables, much the worse for the wine andrakithey have drunk.
Once a year each of the associations gives a picnic, either on the feast of the patron saint or at the promotion of an apprentice. On such occasions a certain sum is collected from the members, or taken from the reserve fund which some of theesnafspossess, for the purchase of all kinds of provisions needed for a substantial and sometimes even sumptuous meal, to which not only all the members of the guild are invited, irrespective of creed and nationality, but also all strangers who may happen to pass the place where the feast is held. The amusements include music and dancing for the Christians, and a variety of other entertainments, always harmless and quite within the bounds of decorum, and joined in with the spirit of joviality that characterizes these gatherings; disputes are of rare occurrence, and the greatest harmony is displayed throughout the day between Christian and Mussulman. When the interests of the Mohammedans are closely connected with those of the Christians, both willingly forego something of their usual intolerance in order to further the cause of business. It is strange and regrettable that this spirit of association among the lower orders should receive so little encouragement from the Government and the higher classes.
Though the Mohammedans in certain localities and under such circumstances as those I have mentioned are just in their dealings with the Christians, and maintain a friendly feeling towards them; in others, especially in inland towns, the growing prosperity of the Christians excites a bitter feeling among their Turkish neighbors, who often offer open hostility and inflict irreparable injury on their business and property. Many incidents of this nature have come under my notice, and lead me to the conclusion that the non-progressiveness of the Turks and the rapid decline of their empire is partly due to the unfortunate and insurmountable incongeniality existing between the Turks and Christians. The Turks, as the dominant race, assumed total ascendancy over the Christians, got into the habit of using them as tools who acted, worked, and thought for them in an irresponsible fashion, and thus lost the power of doing for themselves, together with the sense of seeing the necessity of dealing with justice, generosity, and impartiality, which alone could have guaranteed enterprise or secured confidence and sympathy between the two classes. Unfortunately for the Turks this has brought about a state of permanent antipathy between the two that can never be corrected; nor can any reconciliation be arrived at unless these classes become entirely independent of one another. Any arrangement short of this, as any person well informed as to the actual relations of Turks and Christians, be they Greeks or Bulgarians, will admit, must be of short duration, and before long there could not fail to come a recurrence of outbreaks, revolutions, and the usual atrocities that accompany disorder among these races.
The Turks, generally speaking, are not active or intelligent in business, and do not venture much into speculation or commercial transactions of any great importance. For example, one never hears of their undertaking banking, or forming companies for the purpose of working mines, making railways, or any other enterprise involving risk and requiring intelligence, activity, system, and honesty to insure success. The first reason for this strange neglect in a people who possess one of the finest and most productive countries in the world is a naturally stagnant and lethargic disposition; another is the want of the support of the Government, which has never shown itself earnestly desirous of aiding private enterprise or guaranteeing its success by affording disinterested protection. Until very recent times no pains have been taken either by individuals or by the Government to introduce those innovations and improvements which the times demand. The consequence is that the Turkish tradespeople gradually find the number of their customers decrease, while the Greeks, Franks, and others successfully supply the public with the new articles, or the old ones improved and better fashioned. To give an instance of this I will repeat an incident related to me by a Turkish bey of “La Jeune Turquie” as a lamentable proof of the non-progressiveness of the masses. “When at Stamboul,” said he, “I had during some time to pass by the shop of a Turkish basket-maker who, with two of his sons, one grown up and the other a boy, might be seen working at the wicker hampers and common baskets which have been used in the country from time immemorial, but are now less used by reason of the superiority of those brought from Europe or made in the school for mechanical arts in Stamboul, an institution not much appreciated by the artisans who enjoy the liberty of going themselves or sending their children to learn the innovations in their different branches of industry. The basket-maker and his sons were evidently a steady-going set, representing the honest Turks of olden time, but seemed to be struggling for a livelihood. Feeling an interest in them, I one day stopped and asked the old man what he realized per diem by the sale of his baskets. He heaved a deep sigh, glanced round his dismal shop, ornamented only with dust-covered baskets, and said, ‘Very little, from three to six piastres (6d.to 1s.); for my business, once a thriving one, is now cast into the shade, and few customers come to buy the old Turkish baskets.’ ‘Why then do you not give it up and take to something else?’
“‘No, it did very well for my father, who at his death recommended me to continue it and leave it to my sons and grandsons, who should also be brought up to the trade. I have done so, but it is a hard struggle for three of us to live by it.’
“I then suggested that one or more of his sons should learn the new method of basket-making, which would improve his business at once. This idea did not seem to be received favorably by the old man and the eldest son; but the boy caught at it and asked if he could go and learn. Encouraged by his evident willingness, I prevailed upon the father to allow me to place his son in the Industrial School, where I hear he has made certain progress in his art.” The Turkish mechanic has no power of invention, and his work lacks finish; but he is capable of imitating with some success any design shown to him.
The life led by the Turkish tradespeople is extremely monotonous and brightened by no intellectual pleasures. The shopkeeper, on leaving his house at dawn, goes to the coffee-house, takes his small cup of coffee, smokes his pipe, chats with thehabituésof the place, and then proceeds to his business, which is carried on with Oriental languor throughout the day. At sunset he again resorts to the coffee-house to take the same refreshment and enjoy the innovation of having a newspaper read to him—a novelty now much appreciated by the lower classes. He then returns to the bosom of his family in time for the evening meal. His home is clean though very simple; his wife and daughters are ignorant and never taught a trade by which they might earn anything. Embroidery, indispensable in a number of useless articles that serve to figure in thetrousseauof every Turkish girl, and latterly coarse needle and crochet work, fill up part of the time, while the mothers attend to their household affairs. The young children are sent to the elementary school, and the boys either go to school or are apprenticed to some trade.
A considerable proportion of the Turks belong to the army. The officers, however, unlike those of their class in Europe, do not enjoy the prestige or rank to which the merits of the profession entitle them. It follows that the individuality of the officer is not taken into account: if he possesses any special ability, it is overlooked so long as superiority of rank does not enforce it and obtain for him proper respect from soldiers and civilians. A Turkish captain does not receive much more consideration from his senior officer than does a common private; and in a moment of anger his colonel or general may strike and use foul and abusive language to him: a major is barely secure from such treatment. There are certainly men of meritand education among the officers of the Turkish army, whose behavior, like that of the soldiers, is much praised by those who have had the opportunity of seeing the admirable manner in which they conducted themselves in the late war. Unfortunately it is principally in individual cases that this can be admitted, and it can by no means apply to the whole body of officers.
When not in active service Turkish officers generally have their wives and families in the towns in which they are stationed. The pay of an officer under the rank of a general is very inadequate and is irregularly received—a fact sadly evident in their neglected and disordered appearance. With boots down at heel and coats minus half the buttons, they may often be seen purchasing their own food in the market and carrying it home in their hands.
The young officers who have pursued their studies in the military schools present a marked contrast to these. They are well dressed and have an air of smartness, and in military science they are said to be far more advanced than those who have preceded them. The training they receive, however, is by no means a perfect one, and much will be needed before the Turkish officer can rise to a level with the European.
Their wives are women from the towns; as they generally follow their husbands to the different stations allotted to them, they obtain some knowledge of the world by travelling in various parts of the country, and are conversable and pleasant to associate with.
The sons of all good and wealthy families in the capital are either placed in the military schools or sent to theKalem(Chancellerie d’État), where the majority of the upper class Turkish youth are initiated into official routine and receive different grades as they proceed, the highest rank accorded corresponding with that ofSerik(general of division). The officials who pass through this school are generally more polished in manner, more liberal in their ideas, and superior in many respects to the mean creatures who in former times were intrusted with offices for which they were quite unfit. This practice of appointingChiboukjis(pipe-bearers) and other persons of low origin asMudirs(governors of large villages) andKaimakams(governors of districts), is now less in force, and is limited to Governors-general, who sometimes send their servants to occupy these positions. A Mudir may become a Kaimakam, and a Kaimakam a Pasha, but the top ranks can be obtained without passing through the lower grades. The inferior official placed over each village is theMukhtar. He may be Christian or Moslem, according to the population; in mixed villages two are generally chosen to represent the respective creeds. These functionaries are intrusted with the administration of the village; they collect the taxes, and adjust the differences that arise among the peasants. They are too insignificant to do much good or much harm, unless they are very vicious. The Mudirs are at the head of the administration of their villages and of the medjliss or council, in which members chosen by the people take part.Mutessarifsare sub-governors ofKazasor large districts, andValis, Governors-general of vilayets.
All this body of officials, together with theDefterdars(treasurers),Mektebjis(secretaries of the Pashalik),politico memours(political agents), etc., taken as a whole, are seldom fitted for their posts: they are ignorant and unscrupulous and much more bent upon securing their personal interests than the welfare of their country.
It must, however, in justice be said that, owing to the large sums the higher officials have to disburse in order to obtain their appointments, the great expense entailed in frequently moving themselves and their families from one extremity of the empire to the other, and the irregular and meagre pay the minor officials receive, it is impossible for them to live without resorting to some illicit means of increasing their incomes. And it must be admitted that praiseworthy exceptions are to be found here and there among both the higher and the lower officials.
The case is very simple. A man has to pay a vast sum of money to various influential people in order to get a certain post. His pay is nothing much to speak of. He is liable to be ejected by some one’s caprice at any moment. If he is to repay his “election expenses” and collect a small reserve fund, he must give up all idea of honesty. An honest official in Turkey means a bankrupt. Under the system of favoritism and bribery no course but that of corruption and extortion is open to the official.Il faut bien vivre; and so long as the old system exists one must do in Turkey as the rest of the Turks do. It is utterly corrupt; but it must be reformed from the top downwards.
People in the East never think of asking what was the origin of pashas or in what manner they have attained their high station. Genealogical trees in Turkey are not cultivated; most of the old stems (as explained in Part II., Chap. I.) were uprooted at the beginning of the present century; their branches, lopped off and scattered in all directions, have in some instances taken fresh root and started into a new existence; but they no longer represent the strength of the ancient trunk. The important body of beys, pashas, etc., thus abolished, had to be replaced by a new body selected without much scrutiny from the crowd of adventurers who were always awaiting some turn of fortune whereby they might be put into some official position and mend their finances.
Yusbashi A., one of the chief leaders of the Bashi-Bazouks, who performed the work of destruction at the beginning of the Bulgarian troubles, was subsequently sent to Constantinople by the military authorities to be hung; but being reprieved and pardoned, he was promoted to the rank of Pasha. He had come, when a boy, to the town of T⸺ as an apprentice in a miserable barber’s shop; later on he left his master and entered the service of a native bey. During the Crimean war he joined the Bashi-Bazouks, and when peace was made returned to the town with the rank of captain and a certain amount of money, which he invested in land. By extortion and oppression of every kind exercised upon his peasants, he soon became a person of consequence in the town. Later on this man found his way to the Konak, was appointed member of the council, and was placed upon some commission by which he was enabled, through a series of illegal proceedings, to double and triple his fortune at the expense of the Government revenues. The misdeeds of this man and some of his associates becoming too flagrant to be longer overlooked, the Porte sent a commission to examine the Governmentdeftersor accounts. The captain, by no means frightened, but determined to avoid further trouble in the matter, is said to have set fire to the Konak in several places, so that all the documents that would have compromised him were destroyed and the Pasha and commission who came to inspect his doings barely escaped with their lives. Knowing the desperate character of the man they had to deal with, they were alarmed, and unfeignedly glad to get away and hush the matter up.
Thus the illustrious line of Pashas and Grand Vizirs, like the Kiprilis, was put aside and replaced by a long list of nonentities who, with the exception of a few such as Ali and Fuad Pashas, cannot be said to have benefited their country in any remarkable degree, or to have shown any special qualifications as statesmen.
The title of Grand Vizir, now nominally abolished, was one of the oldest and the highest given to a civil functionary. His appointment, being of a temporal nature, depended entirely upon the will of the Sultan, who might at his pleasure load the Vizir with honors, or relieve him of his head. This unpleasant uncertainty as to the future attached to the Vizir’s office gradually almost disappeared as the Sultans began to recognize the indispensable services rendered to them by an able Grand Vizir. They began to appreciate the comfort of having ministers to think for them, make laws, and scheme reforms in their name; and this confidence, so agreeable to an indolent Sultan, and so convenient to an irresponsible minister, was the ruling principle of the constitution during the reign of Sultan Abdul-Medjid, who was affable to his ministers, changed them less frequently than his ancestors did, and loaded them indiscriminately with decorations and gifts. Not so his wayward and capricious brother and successor Abdul-Aziz, who scrupled not, on the slightest pretext, to dismiss his Grand Vizir. A trifling change in his personal appearance, a divergence of opinion, timidly expressed by the humble minister—who stood with hands crossed, dervish-fashion, on his shoulders, in the attitude of an obedient slave—just as much as a more serious fault, such as casting difficulties in the way of his Imperial Majesty with regard to his exorbitant demands on the treasury, were sufficient to seal the fate of the daringSadrazam. But in spite of the difficulties and drawbacks and humiliations of the post, a Grand Vizir continued to be, after the Sultan, the most influential person in the country. The gates of his Konak were at once thrown open, and the other ministers and functionaries flocked to pay their respects to him. The governors of districts telegraphed their felicitations, while the ante-chamber and courts of his house and office were rarely free from the presence of a regular army of office-hunters, petitioners, dervishes, old women, and beggars, waiting for an audience or a chance glimpse of the minister on his exit, when each individual pressed forward to bring his or her claim to his notice.Pek aye, bakalum olour,[3]were the words that generally dropped from the mouths even of the least amiable Vizirs on such occasions—words of hope that were eagerly caught by the interested parties, as well as by the numerouscortégeofkyatibs, servants, and favorites of the great man who, according to the importance of the affairs or the station of the applicant, willingly undertook to be the advocate of the cause, guaranteeing its success by the counter-guarantee of receiving therushvetsor bribes needed in all stages of the affair. This method of transacting business, very general in Turkey, is calledhatir, or by favor; its extent is unlimited, and its application varied and undefined; it can pardon the crime of murder, imprison an innocent person, liberate a condemned criminal, take away the property of one minister to present it to another, remove governors from their posts just as you change places in a quadrille, or simply turn out one set, as in the cotillon, to make room for another. Anything and everything can in fact be brought about by this system, except a divorce when the plea is not brought by the husband.
I have particularized the Grand Vizir as doing business in this way merely because it was he who was more appealed to in this manner than the other ministers, not because the others do not follow closely in his steps. Their duties are extensive and important, and demand for their proper and exact performance not only intelligence, but also high educational qualifications, which, with rare exceptions, Turkish officials do not possess—a capital defect, which, added to the uncertainty of the period they are likely to remain in office, and the systematic practice, pursued by each successive minister, of trying to undo what his predecessor had done forthe country, and of dismissing most of the civil officials and provincial governors to replace them by some from his own set, greatly contributes to increase maladministration, and to create the disorder that has long prevailed in Turkey.
About honesty I need not speak, for no business of any kind is undertaken without bribery; even if the minister should be above this, there are plenty of people surrounding him who would not be so scrupulous. Kibrizli Mehemet Pasha was one of the few high officials against whom no charge of the kind could be brought, but hisKavass-Bashicondescended to take even so small a sum as five piastres as a bribe. This Pasha was a thorough gentleman, high-minded both in his administrative affairs and family life. After he lost his position as Grand Vizir, I had occasion to see a great deal of him; he took the reverses of fortune with great calmness andsang-froid; so do all Turks meet “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.”
The fall of a minister was generally rumored some time before it took place, during which period he and those around him tried to make the most of the opportunities left to them, while the opposition continued their intrigues until the blow finally fell. When this happened theSadrazamremained at home, the gates of his Konak were closed, and the world, including his best friends, would pass without venturing to enter; the only visitors would be his banker, doctor, and creditors, who in prosperity and adversity never neglect this duty.
During the administration of a Grand Vizir, his harem was also called upon to play its part and take the lead in the female society of Stamboul. Thesalonof the chief wife, like that of her husband, would be thrown open, and crowds of visitors, including the wives of the other ministers, would arrive to offer their respects and felicitations, and demand favors and promotions for their sons or posts for their husbands. All these visitors, on their arrival, were ushered into the ante-chamber according to their respective stations, where they took off theirferidjésand refreshed themselves with sweets, coffee, sherbets, etc. The interval between this and their reception, sometimes of several hours’ duration, was spent in conversation among the visitors, in which some of the ladies of the household, or some visitors staying in the house, would join, until they were requested to proceed to the drawing-room. When the hostess appeared all would rise from their seats, walk towards the door, maketemenlasand deep obeisances, and endeavor to kiss her foot or the hem of her garment, an act of homage which she would accept, but gracefully and with much dignity try to prevent in those of high rank by sayingIstafourla(Excuse me—don’t do it). The conversation, started afresh, would depend for subjects upon the disposition and tact of the mistress of the house; but would chiefly consist in flattery and adulation, carried sometimes to a ridiculous extent. The manner of thehanoum effendiwould be smooth and friendly towards the partisans of her husband, curt towards those of the opposition, but patronizing and protecting in its general tone towards all. Should the Vizir’s lady be of the unprincipled type, the conversation would bear a differentcachet. I was told by some distinguished Turkish ladies that when they paid a visit to the wife of a short-lived Vizir, the lady, both old and ugly, entertained them with a recital of the follies and weaknesses of her husband and exposed some of her own not more select proceedings into the bargain.
The wife of a Grand Vizir also played a great part with regard to the changes, appointments, and dismissions which followed each new Vizirate, by the influence she exercised both over him and also in high quarters, where she often found means to make herself as influential as at home.
I have often been asked what a Turkish lady does all day long? Does she sleep or eat sugar-plums, and is she kept under lock and key by a Blue-Beard of a husband, who allows her only the liberty of waiting upon him? A Turkish lady is certainly shut up in a harem, and there can be no doubt that she is at liberty to indulge in the above-mentioned luxuries, should she feel so disposed; she has possibly, at times, to submit to being locked up, but the key is applied to the outer gates, and is left in the keeping of the friendly eunuch. Besides, woman is said to have a will of her own, and “where there is a will there is a way” is a proverb to which Turkish ladies are no strangers. I have seldom met with one who did not make use of her liberty; in one sense she may not have so much freedom as Englishwomen have, but in many others she possesses more. In her home she is perfect mistress of her time and of her property, which she can dispose of as she thinks proper. Should she have cause of complaint against any one, she is allowed to be very open spoken, holds her ground, and fights her own battles with astonishing coolness and decision.
Turkish ladies appreciate to the full as much as their husbands the virtues of the indispensable cup of coffee and cigarette; this is their first item in the day’s programme. Thehanoumsmay next take a bath; the young ladies wash at theabtesthours; the slaves when they can find time. Thehanoumwill then attend to her husband’s wants, bring him his pipe and coffee, his slippers and pelisse. While smoking he will sit on the sofa, whilst his wife occupies a lower position near him, and the slaves roll up the bedding from the floor. If the gentleman be a government functionary the official bag will be brought in, and he will look over his documents, examining some, affixing his seal to others, saying a few words in the intervals to his wife, who always addresses him in a ceremonious manner with great deference and respect. The children will then trot in in theirgedjlikswith the hair uncombed, to be caressed, and ask for money with which to buy sweets and cakes. The custom of giving pence to children daily is so prevalent that it is practised even by the poor.
The children, after an irregular breakfast, are sent to school or allowed to roam about the house; theeffendiproceeds to perform his out-of-door toilet and leaves theharemlik, when the female portion of the establishment, freed from the pleasure or obligation of attending to his wants, begin the day’s occupation. If this should include any special or unusual household work, such as preserve-making, washing or ironing, or general house-cleaning, the lady, be she of the highest position, will take part in it with the slaves. This is certainly not necessary, for she has plenty of menials, but is done in order to fill up the day, many hours of which necessarily hang heavily on her hands when not enlivened by visiting or being visited. In the capital, however, less of this kind of employment is indulged in by the fashionablehanoums, who are trying to create a taste for European occupations by learning music, foreign languages, and fine needlework. The time for dressing is irregular. A lady may think proper to do her hair and make herself tidy for luncheon, or she may remain in hergedjlikand slippers all day. This fashion of receiving visitorsen négligéis not considered at all peculiar unless the visit has been announced beforehand.
Visiting and promenading, the principal amusements of Turkish ladies, are both affairs of very great importance. Permission has previously to be asked from the husband, who, if liberally disposed, freely grants it; but if jealous and strict, he will disapprove of seeing his family often out of doors. When a walk or drive is projected the children all begin to clamor to go with their mother. Scarcely is this question settled by coaxing or giving them money, than another arises as to which of the slaves are to be allowed to go. Tears, prayers, and even little quarrels and disturbances follow, until the mistress finally selects her party. The details of the toilette are very numerous; the face has to be blanched, then rouged, the eyebrows and lashes to be blackened withsurmé, and a variety of other little coquetries resorted to requiring time and patience before the final adjustment of theyashmakandferidgé.
Then comes the scramble for places in the carriage, thehanoumsnaturally seat themselves first, the rest squeeze themselves in, and sit upon each other’s knees. It is wonderful to see how well they manage this close packing, and how long they can endure the uncomfortable postures in which they are fixed.
If the excursion is solely for visiting, the occupants of the carriages make the best of the time and liberty by coquetting with the grooms andagasin attendance, should these be young and handsome, and sending salaams to the passers-by, mingled with laughter and frolic. But when the excursion has a picnic in prospective, or a long drive into the country, the gayety and fun indulged in is bewildering; and thehanoumscan only be compared to a flock of strange birds suddenly let loose from their cages, not knowing what to make of their new freedom. Flirting, smoking, eating fruits and sweets, walking about, running, or lounging on the carpets they bring with them, varied by music and singing, fill the day. They usually set out early and return before sunset in time to receive their master on his visit to the harem before dinner. When this meal is over, the company, comfortably dressed in theirnégligécostume, indulge in coffee and cigarettes, and the events of the day are discussed. The ladies then retire to rest at an early hour, and rise the next day to go through the same routine.
At the foot of the imperial throne we see the princes, who, like children at dessert, are to be seen, not heard. They now enjoy a degree of freedom before unknown, and their wants and caprices are to a certain extent satisfied by allowances from the Sultan. In childhood and youth they are masters of their own time, and employ it as they please. On emerging from boyhood they are furnished with harems; some more distantly related to the reigning Sultan are allowed to have children; but the others are denied that privilege. All these members of the imperial family live a very secluded life. They are not allowed to take any part in the administrative, hold commissions in the army or navy, or enter the civil service. The only exception to this rule was the son of the late Sultan Abdul-Aziz, who, at the age of ten, was, I believe, a captain in the army, and a few years later was made a general. This is said to have given the occasion for a reproach made to the prince by his father, who at the moment of his deposition turned to him and said, “My son, I placed you in the military school where you remained three years without making a single friend; see what this has now led to!”
This reproach of being friendless addressed to any of the princes is unjust, as they are not allowed to make friendships. Friends for a prince mean a party, and a party means cabals and conspiracies, so all such dangerous connections are carefully suppressed, and the prince, under the influence of the suspicion and espionage by which he is surrounded, is as little disposed to have any friends among the influential classes and men of rank as they are to court his friendship or approach him too closely. A personal friend of the ex-Sultan Murad told me that in early youth that prince and he had been very much thrown together, and a sincere affection had sprung up between them,which, however, on Sultan Abdul-Medjid’s death, had to be entirely given up. Rare meetings between them could only be arranged when the prince went to Pera on shopping expeditions. Thus the Ottoman princes, spoilt in childhood, secluded from active public life, are left to vegetate in their respective homes.
The Princes of the Blood and all relations of the late Sultan used always to be cleared out of the way on the accession of a new Padishah; but the custom has fallen into disuse since the time of Mahmoud II., who found it necessary to order the strangulation of the deposed Sultan, the drowning in sacks of 174 of his wives and odalisks, and also the decapitation of a great number of other persons. This measure, considered needful to insure the inviolability of his person, as the only remaining representative of the house of Othman, soon put an end to the rebellion that had occasioned his ascension to the throne. On the day of his proclamation as Sultan, thirty-three heads were exposed at the gate of the Seraglio to bear evidence to the fact. Rebellion, fire, and murder, it was said, could not be otherwise put down than by counter-violence, and the extreme measures adopted by the new sovereign ended in the restoration of order in the capital.
Notwithstanding this black page in the history of Mahmoud, this Sultan, to whom history has not yet done justice, was one of the best, most enlightened, and powerful of Ottoman sovereigns.
Unlike most of his predecessors, he had not wasted the long years of captivity in idleness and frivolous occupations, but had seriously employed them in study. He originated the material changes that have since been made in the life of seraglio inmates, and also endeavored to better the condition of his Christian subjects. Whatever progress has been made by the Turkish Mohammedans in the road of civilization must also be attributed to his efforts. Amid wars without and revolts within, the discontent of the Moslems at the attempted innovations, the clamoring of the Christians for the amelioration of their condition, the Sultan struggled on for thirty years with a perseverance worthy of the cause, till death put an end to his work. He was succeeded by his son, the liberal but weak-minded Abdul-Medjid.
The young Sultan was well imbued with the ideas of his father, but less capable of carrying them out; yet he showed himself liberal and sincerely desirous of improving the degraded condition into which the country had fallen.
The security of life and property became greater under his rule. Executions and confiscation of property became less frequent, and a general change for the better in the material existence of the people was decreed; but unfortunately the Sultan could not insure the carrying out of his decrees. The exchequer, impoverished by the extravagance of the palace and the corruption of the officials, was on the brink of bankruptcy, which was only postponed by the foreign loans obtained in the succeeding reign.
Had the Sultan’s perseverance in seeing these changes enforced been equal to his good-will in ordaining them, Turkey might have been spared many of its present miseries.
He was beloved by his subjects, who, in the midst of their misery, forgave his weakness in remembering his gentleness and benevolence to those who appealed to his mercy. His aversion to bloodshed was so great that he was never known to decree a single execution. This was, of course, a serious hindrance to carrying on the judicial arrangements of the country. In cases of urgent necessity his signature had to be obtained by subterfuge.
A lover of pleasure and ease, Abdul-Medjid, on coming to the throne, soon plunged into that life of self-indulgence, luxury, and excess, which at once began to tell upon his delicate constitution and by degrees affected in a most fatal manner his moral and physical faculties; and he died of exhaustion on June 25th, 1861.
His successor, Abdul-Aziz, had been the first to profit by the indulgence and liberality of his brother, who from the beginning to the end of his reign showed him genuine brotherly affection, allowed him uncontrolled freedom as heir-apparent, and furnished him with a very liberal income, making a point of never getting any object of value for himself, without offering its equivalent to his brother.
Abdul-Aziz, however, did not make any good use of the liberty he enjoyed before coming to the throne. Sensual, extravagant, and narrow-minded, his occupations and pleasures were anything but imperial: his wasteful habits were ruinous to his country, whilst his want of judgment and foresight prevented his realizing the fatal effects of his conduct. This may, however, be accounted for, to a great extent, by the fact that he was subject at times tomerak(aberration of mind). From an early age he began to give signs of that whimsical, suspicious, and morose disposition which during the latter part of his reign became the principal characteristic of his nature.
Unlike his brother, Abdul-Medjid, he was strongly built, and his personal appearance was singularly unattractive. His tastes and amusements, very much in harmony with his exterior, showed themselves in all kinds of extravagant and odd fancies. Cock-fighting was a spectacle in which he greatly delighted, by turns decorating or exiling the combatants.
In his moments of good-humor he often imposed a wrestling match upon his ministers and favorites, at times taking an active part in the sport. The celebrated Nevrez Pasha, half knave, half fool, who from the lowest stage of seraglio functions had been raised to a ministerial position, was the one generally chosen by the Sultan with whom to measure his strength.
The corpulent Pasha never failed to be the beaten party; the ludicrous attitudes into which he fell and his jokes gave him a higher grade whenever they were called into play, and caused him to say that every kick he received from the imperial foot was worth to him aNishan(a decoration), a konak, or a vizirlik.
It would, however, be unfair not to acknowledge in this Sultan some good services rendered to his country.
One of these is the purchase of the fine fleet of iron-clads the Porte now possesses; another, his untiring efforts in placing the army on the, comparatively speaking, improved and high footing on which it stood at the beginning of the war; and a third, the construction of the railways now existing in the country. Some will perhaps reckon among his merits the shrewdness he and his ministers displayed in accomplishing these undertakings with funds that were not exactly theirs.
The details of the dethronement, short captivity and death of Sultan Abdul-Aziz, though extremely curious and interesting, are as yet but little known to the public. One of the ladies of his seraglio related some of the incidents connected with these events to me, but she said, “We cannot now divulge all, for fear of prejudicing the living, but in course of time, when history reveals unknown facts, all doubts and mystery on his untimely death will be removed.” Upon which she burst into tears, and repeatedly uttered the Turkish exclamation of distress, “Aman! Aman!”
She then recited to me in Arabic the verse which the unfortunate Sultan, on entering his prison, traced on the dust that covered the table. The following is a translation:—
Man’s destiny is Allah’s will,Sceptres and power are His alone,My fate is written on my brow,Lowly I bend before His Throne.
Man’s destiny is Allah’s will,Sceptres and power are His alone,My fate is written on my brow,Lowly I bend before His Throne.
Man’s destiny is Allah’s will,Sceptres and power are His alone,My fate is written on my brow,Lowly I bend before His Throne.
Man’s destiny is Allah’s will,
Sceptres and power are His alone,
My fate is written on my brow,
Lowly I bend before His Throne.
Turning towards the window the Sultan noticed that one of his much-prized iron-clads had been placed in front of theYahliwhich served as his prison, with the guns pointed towards him. But a still more appalling sight met his gaze. A sailor was seized by a few of his comrades, who, pointing him out to the Sultan, passed a crimsonkushakor girdle round his neck and led him three times round the deck, signifying to the unfortunate captive that in three days he would undergo the same operation. Pointing this out to the Validé Sultana, he exclaimed, with emotion, “Mother! see to what use the force I have created for the preservation and aggrandizement of my empire is applied! This is evidently the death reserved for me.” A belt containing some of the most valuable crown-jewels, which the Sultan had placed on his person when leaving the palace, disappeared the day he was found dead, and has never since been heard of. The Sultan had to ask for food repeatedly before he was supplied with it, and even then what he obtained was given him on thesofraof a common soldier. On my further questioning this lady on the cause of the Sultan’s untimely end, she passed her hand over her lips, meaning they were sealed, and muttering a “Turbé Istafourla,” said, “It is not in my power to reveal more!—the justification of the dead must be withheld so long as it endangers the living. The duty of the devoted is to keep silence until history can divulge secrets that will then harm none.”
Soon after the death of Abdul-Aziz, I had occasion to discuss it with a Turkish general. Expressing his opinion of the equally unfortunate Sultan Murad, the Pasha, with smiling urbanity, said, “I cannot tell as yet; but with us, Sultans are now so numerous, that we can afford to sweep them away successively with a broom, if they do not suit us.”
Every one is acquainted with the quiet and peaceable manner in which Sultan Abdul-Aziz was dethroned in 1876, to make room for his nephew Murad. This unfortunate prince was as little acquainted with the changes that were being planned as was his uncle, and his sensitive nature, unprepared for the shock that placed him on the throne, caused him to receive the messenger who came to inform him of the change in his position more as the bearer of his sentence to death than the herald of sovereignty. Taken by surprise at the moment he was about to retire, the prince hastily put on his coat and met the vizir at the door of the Mabeyn. Deathly pale, but calm and resigned, he looked in his face, and said, “What is my offence, and whom have I ever harmed that I should thus be doomed to an untimely death?”
Entirely ignorant of the conspiracy that opened a path for him to the throne, and severely grieved for his uncle’s misfortunes, the news of his tragical end is said to have given the first shock to the young sovereign’s intellect, and, followed by the murder of the ministers, with its equally distressing details, determined the bent of his vacillating mind. One of the first symptoms of his insanity was a habit he fell into of spanning with his hand the distance between the wrist and elbow joint, striking the bend of the arm with his hand, then starting, and reflecting. I have never heard of his having broken out into acts of violence, except upon one occasion, when he raised a stick and struck his brother-in-law. On one occasion he made his escape into the garden, where he was found sitting on a marble slab, making grimaces at those who approached him. He is said to have experienced some lucid intervals; one of these chanced to be at the moment the salutes were being fired on the occasion of his brother Abdul-Hamid’s ascensionto the throne. Looking at his son, a promising youth of fourteen, he said, “My boy, what is the reason of this firing?” “Oh!” said the boy, wishing to spare his father’s feelings, “it is the fête of a foreign monarch.” “No,” said the unhappy monarch, “it is the proclamation of my own dethronement, and the accession of thy uncle to the throne; God’s will be done!” Heaving a deep sigh, he shed a few tears, and, happily for him, under the circumstances, relapsed into his former state.
Sultan Murad was said to possess many of the virtues of his father, a kind and gentle disposition, and intelligence and liberality of ideas. During his short reign, the affability of his manners, and the desire he showed to please all parties, irrespective of race or religion, and to abolish the burdens that weighed upon them, had gained for him the respect and affection of his subjects, which is evinced even to the present day by sorrow and sympathy for his misfortunes.
The present Sultan at first declined the imperial throne, from feelings of affection and delicacy towards his brother, and could only be prevailed upon to accept it when all the physicians, called in for advice, pronounced Murad’s case quite hopeless. Sultan Abdul-Hamid is much esteemed and highly spoken of by persons who have had the honor of conversing with his Imperial Majesty. He is, moreover, said to be qualified for his position, being liberal in his ideas, and possessed of many of the qualities of a good sovereign, and desirous of carrying out the reforms that alone can insure the happiness of his people and restore prosperity to the country. Unfortunately, he came to the throne at a moment when the best and most gifted of sovereigns could do little single-handed. When affairs are settled, much will naturally be expected from him, which his friends and the well-wishers of Turkey feel confident he will realize.
I have not yet mentioned an important section of the Turkish community—the slaves. Slavery in Turkey is now reduced mainly to one sex. Male slaves, except in the capacity of eunuchs, are now rare, though every now and then a cargo of them is smuggled into some port and privately disposed of, since the Government professes to share the anti-slavery views of England. But female slavery is a necessary part of the seraglio and of the Turkish harem system. The seraglio is of course recruited from its numbers; and few Turks can afford to keep more than one free wife. A second wife insists upon a separate establishment, and causes endless jealousy to the first wife and trouble to the husband. But a slave is no cause of jealousy, lives in the same house as the wife, and costs much less to keep than a free woman. Female slaves, too, are generally given by fathers to their sons, to avoid the expense of a marriage; and daughters, on marrying, are always supplied with a slave as lady’s-maid. Moreover, slaves are in much request as servants, and do their work excellently, besides presenting many advantages and conveniences that are not found in free women.
The condition of slaves in Turkey is not a hard one. The principle is of course radically wrong, and the initial stage is full of cruelty. But the women are not often ill-treated; and when an occasional case of violence and ill-usage occurs, it excites general indignation among the Moslems. A slave is entitled to her liberty after seven years of bondage, and she generally gets it, and is dowered and married to a freeman, though sometimes a bad master will evade the law by selling her before the seven years have quite expired. But this is a rare case, and the slave system in Turkey is, as a whole, a widely different thing from American slavery.
The only class who suffer much are the negresses. When they are freed and married off it not seldom happens that from their native wildness or other causes they quarrel with their husbands and are turned off to earn their own living as best they may. Their condition then becomes very wretched, and the quarter in which they live is a dismal group of rickety houses, inhabited by a miserable and ragged set of women and children. This is by no means the case with the Abyssinians or the half-castes, who rank higher, and never have to appeal to public charity. But the negresses are hardly worse off than the disabled slaves. If a woman of this class by some accident or age becomes unfit for work, she is looked upon as a burden and very badly cared for.
Turkish slavery is not so bad as it might be: the system is softened by many humane laws, and is marked by a kindly paternal character. Yet it is a blot on the country, and so soon as the harem system and polygamy can be got rid of, it too must go.