CHAPTER IX.TURKISH HOUSES.The Turkish Quarter—AKonak—Haremlik and Selamlik—Arrangement of Rooms—Furniture—TheTandour—Turkish Clemency towards Vermin—Bordofska—An AlbanianKonak—The Pasha and his Harem—A TurkishBas-bleu—Ruins ofKonaksoutside Uskup—The Last of the Albanian Deri-Beys—AKonakat Bazardjik—The Widow of the Deri-Bey—Kiosks—Koulas—AKoulanear Salonika—Christian Quarters—Khans—Furniture—Turkish Baths, Public and Private—Cafés.
The Turkish Quarter—AKonak—Haremlik and Selamlik—Arrangement of Rooms—Furniture—TheTandour—Turkish Clemency towards Vermin—Bordofska—An AlbanianKonak—The Pasha and his Harem—A TurkishBas-bleu—Ruins ofKonaksoutside Uskup—The Last of the Albanian Deri-Beys—AKonakat Bazardjik—The Widow of the Deri-Bey—Kiosks—Koulas—AKoulanear Salonika—Christian Quarters—Khans—Furniture—Turkish Baths, Public and Private—Cafés.
Bright sunshine, fresh air, ample space, and pure water are indispensable to the felicity of a Turk. Both in the capital and in provincial towns the Turkish quarter is invariably situated in the most healthy and elevated parts, and occupies, on account of the gardens belonging to almost every Turkish house, double the ground of the Christian and Jewish quarters. These gardens are all more or less cultivated, but, except in the capital, where horticulture has obtained some degree of perfection, they seldom display either taste or order. A few fine mulberry or other fruit trees may be seen here and there overshadowing patches of ground bordered with box or tiles, and planted with roses, lettuces, and garlic; and in the gardens of the better class of houses one may often see pretty fountains.
The streets of the Turkish quarter are narrow and irregular, and, except in the principal thoroughfares, look solitary and deserted; they are, however, cleaner than those of the Christian and Jewish quarters, and this for three good reasons: they are little frequented; they are not encumbered with rubbish, owing to the space the Turks possess in their court-yards and gardens, where they can heap up most of the refuse that the Christians have to throw into the streets; and they are better patrolled by the street dogs, for these famous scavengers, being under the special protection of the Mussulman, are more numerous in the Turkish than in the other quarters, and eat up all the animal and vegetable refuse.
A Turkishkonak, or mansion, is a large building, very irregular in construction, and without the slightest approach to European ideas of comfort or convenience. This building is divided into two parts, theharemlikand theselamlik; the former and larger part is allotted to the women, the latter is occupied by the men and is used for the transaction of business, the purposes of hospitality, and formal receptions. The stables are attached to it, forming part of the ground-floor, and rendering some of the upper rooms rather unpleasant quarters. A narrow passage leading from themabeyn(or neutral ground) to theharemlikjoins the two establishments. The materials used for building are wood, lime, mud, and stone for the foundations. A Konak generally consists of two stories, one as nearly as possible resembling the other, with abundant provision for the entrance of light and air. A large hall, called thedevankhané, forms the entrance into the Haremlik; it is surrounded by a number of rooms of various sizes. To the right, the largest serves as a sort of ante-chamber, the rest are sleeping apartments for the slaves, with the exception of one calledkahvé-agak, where an old woman is always found sitting over a charcoal brazier, ready to boil coffee for every visitor. A large double staircase leads to the upper story, on one side of which is thekiler, or store-room, and on the other the lavatories. The floors are of deal, kept scrupulously clean and white, and in the rooms generally covered with mats and rugs. The furniture is exceedingly poor and scanty; a hard uncomfortable sofa runs along two and sometimes three sides of the room; ashelté, or small square mattress, occupies each corner, surmounted by a number of cushions piled one upon the other in regular order. The corner of the sofa is the seat of the Hanoum, and by the side of the cushions are placed her mirror andchekmegé.
A small European sofa, a few chairs placed stiffly against the wall, a console supporting a mirror and decorated with two lamps or candlesticks, together with a few goblets and a small table standing in the centre with cigarettes and tiny ash-trays, complete the furniture of the grandest provincialBuyukoda. Though some Turks possess many rare and curious objects, such as ancient armor and china, which, if displayed, would greatly add to the elegance and cheerfulness of their apartments, these are always kept packed away in boxes.
Windows are the great inconvenience in Turkish houses; they pierce the walls on every side, with hardly the space of a foot between them. The curtains are usually of coarse printed calico, short and scanty, with the edges pinked out, so that when washed they present a miserably ragged appearance. The innumerable windows render the houses ill-adapted either for hot or cold weather; the burning rays of the sun pour in all day in summer, and the frames are so badly constructed that the cold wind enters in all directions in winter.
Bedsteads are not used by the Turks; mattresses are nightly spread on the floor, and removed in the morning into large cupboards, built into the walls of every room. These walls, being whitewashed and roughly furnished, increase the uncomfortable appearance of the rooms, which at night are dimly lighted by one or two sperm candles or a petroleum lamp, the successors of the ancient tallow candle. The halls and passages are left in obscurity, and the servants find their way about as well as they can.
Themangals, or braziers, are the warming apparatus generally used by the Turks in their houses. These are made of different metal; some fixed in wooden frames, others in frames of wrought brass of very elegant and costly workmanship. The fuel consists of a quantity of wood ashes in which burning charcoal is half buried.
Thetandour, now nearly fallen into disuse, is also worthy of notice. It consists of a square deal table with a foot-board covered with tin, on which a brazier stands; the whole is covered with a thick quilted counterpane which falls in heavy folds on a sofa running round it, covering the loungers up to the chin, and giving one the idea of a company of people huddled together in bed. The tandour is still very much used in Smyrna, and round it the Levantine ladies love to sit during the winter months. More than one English traveller, newly arrived in the country, when ushered into a drawing-room, is said to have rushed frantically out again under the impression that he had surprised the family in bed.
The furniture of theselamlikis similar to that of the Haremlik. A family often removes from one set of apartments to another; this propensity is doubtless stimulated by the desire to escape from the assaults of the fleas and other vermin that swarm in the rooms. When once these insects obtain a footing in a house, it is difficult to get rid of them, partly on account of the unwillingness of the Turks to destroy animal life of any description, and partly because these insects take up their abode between the badly joined planks under the mats and rugs.
I was once visiting at the house of a Pasha lately arrived at Adrianople. The Hanoum, a charming woman, was complaining bitterly to me of her rest having been much disturbed the previous night by the abundance of these creatures in her apartment. One of the slaves modestly remarked that she had occupied herself all the morning in scalding the floor of the room her mistress had slept in, and expressed a hope that she would not be longer troubled in that respect. A general outcry against this slave’s want of humanity was raised by all the women present, and a chorus of “Yuzuk! Gunah!” (Pity! Sin!) was heard. It is curious that they raised no such outcry when they heard of the frightful destruction of human life that took place a few years later among their Christian neighbors in Bulgaria, but a few miles from their own secure homes!
When in the interior I had the opportunity of visiting some Konaks worthy of note; one of these called Bordofska, situated in the heart of Albania, some leagues from Uskup, had been built as a country residence by the famous Hevni Pasha. It was an immense building, solidly constructed of stone at the expense and with the forced labor of the people, who were pressed into the work. It occupied the middle of a large garden that must have been beautiful in its time, and being surrounded by high walls bore a strong resemblance to a feudal castle. This fine old building had become the property of Osman Pasha, a venerable Turk of the old school; all the furniture was European, and of a very rich and elegant description, but looked worn and neglected. The aged Pasha received me with the politeness and hospitality his nation knows so well how to show when it pleases.
After an interchange of civilities, and having partaken of coffee, I was invited to visit the harem. A hideous black monster, the chief of the eunuchs, led the way through a long dark passage lined with forty of his brethren, not more pleasant-looking than himself, who salaamed to me as I passed.
My then limited experiences of the customs of harems made me regard this gloomy passage and its black occupants with feelings of curiosity, not unmingled with dread. The chief wife of Osman Pasha (for I believe he had six others, besides slaves) was a very fat, elderly person, who showed little disposition to give me the hearty and civil reception I had just received from her husband, and I soon discovered that she belonged to that peculiar class of Turkish women calledSoffous—thebas-bleusof Mohammedanism, bigoted zealots of the straitest sect of the Moslem Pharisees.
On entering the room I found the Hanoum seated in her sofa corner, from which she did not rise but merely gave a bend of the head, with a cold “Né yaparsen?”[13]in response to my deep Oriental obeisance. She spoke very little, and the few words she was obliged to utter were intermingled withDuvasshe muttered; perhaps asking forgiveness for the sin she was committing in holding direct intercourse with aGiaour. The other wives, who were all pretty and gay, tried to make amends for the ill-humor of theirdoyenne, and were as kind and amiable as etiquette would allow in her presence.
Four other Konaks of the same description may still be seen outside the town of Uskup, standing alongside in melancholy decay. The first and largest was intended for the residence of the once powerful Hevni Pasha himself; the second for his son, and the two others for his daughters. I was deeply impressed by the sight of these imposing ruins, and visited them with the double object of satisfying my curiosity and ascertaining the possibility of lodging myself in some habitable corner of one of them during my stay in the neighborhood. The interior was well worth seeing, and comprised splendid apartments, the walls and ceilings being decorated with gildings and elaborate carvings in walnut wood. The baths of sculptured marble could still be taken as models of that luxurious and indispensable appendage to a Turkish house. A wing of one of these buildings was habitable; but when I proposed to install myself in it, some natives who had accompanied our party objected, saying the houses werehursousandnahletli, having been cursed by the people at whose expense, and by whose unrequited labor, they had been erected. Even the beasts, they said, that had carried the heavy loads of building material were seen to look up to heaven and groan under the pressure of their burdens; and a prophet of the place had foretold the downfall of the owner on the day of the completion of the work. This prophecy was fulfilled to the letter, for on the day the Pasha was to have entered his new abode, the Turkish Government, suspicious of his growing power and wealth, managed to lay hands upon him.
This Deri-Bey[14]is said to have been a wonderfully intelligent man, counterbalancing many of his tyrannical actions by the zealous care he showed in promoting the individual safety of his people and in increasing their prosperity. Though entirely uneducated, his natural talents were great enough to enable him to comprehend the advantages of modern civilization, and to lead him to introduce some recent inventions into the country; he also attempted to render the river Vardar (the ancient Axius) navigable.
Hevni Pasha and hisvoïvodes, or captains, twenty-five or thirty years ago, may be looked upon as the last representatives of the chiefs of the wild Albanian clans, who at that time still refused to recognize the authority of the Porte, and when pressed to do so broke out into open rebellion. Badjuksis Ahmet Pasha, then a mere colonel, marched with his regiment upon Uskup, one of the principal strongholds of the Albanians, and, partly by stratagem and partly by threats, managed to penetrate into the town and take possession of the fortress. In the meantime, Frank Omar Pasha, the field-marshal, came with some regular troops to his assistance, having previously defeated the Albanians in battle at Kaplan, and dispersed them into the plains. He surrounded the town, and invited Hevni Pasha with his captains and the principal beys of the town into the fortress to hear the Imperial Firman read. This ceremony being concluded without disturbance, Hevni Pasha and such of his party as were likely to continue their resistance to the orders of the Porte were requested by the military authorities to mount at once the horses that had been surreptitiously prepared for them, and were conveyed under escort to Constantinople, whence they were sent into exile, their families being sent after them, and their goods confiscated. Notice was next given to the rest of the native beys that, should any of them be found in direct or indirect communication with the scattered bands of Albanians, or sending provisions to them, the guns of the fortress would be turned upon the town, which would be razed to the ground. This was a master-stroke on the part of the Government; the Albanians, after a few vain attempts at Monastir, Vrania, Philippopolis, and other places, to resist the authority of the Sultan, partially submitted and returned to their impregnable mountain fastnesses; not, however, without having committed some barbarities similar to those recently enacted in Bulgaria.
During my trip to Bazardjik, I visited another konak: it belonged to Kavanos Oglou, another of the too famous Deri-Beys, who had acquired complete control over his part of the country, and who was similarly seized by the Porte, despoiled of his possessions, and sent into exile. This konak was an immense quadrangular building, inclosing a court-yard with a veranda running round it supported on massive wooden pillars. Upon this veranda a hundred rooms opened. The house was low and clumsy in appearance, but timber of remarkable size and solidity had been used in its construction.
At the time of my visit it was abandoned; the doors and windows had disappeared, giving to the edifice an appearance of solitude and emptiness, rendered still more dismal by the presence of innumerable bats and owls, its only occupants. The old dungeon, with its cruel associations, could still be traced in a low building, about thirty feet longand twenty wide, surrounded by a wall of immense thickness and strongly roofed. For windows nothing was seen but a few slits. The interior on one side was occupied by a double wall, with just enough space between to admit a person in a standing position; in this the offenders against the laws, and the victims of vendetta, were squeezed, secured by heavy chains that hung at equal distances from iron rings. A well, now filled up, occupied the centre, into which the heads of decapitated prisoners were thrown, to disappear in the dismal darkness of its depths.
I was not sorry to leave this cheerless scene of former despotism and present decay, and to turn my steps towards a gate on the opposite side of the garden leading into a kiosk more modern in appearance than the house, though bearing traces of decay. This last refuge of a once powerful family was occupied by Azizié Hanoum Effendi, the much-respected widow of the tyrant. Her two sons, who occupied inferior positions under Government, were absent. The descendants of Kavanos Oglou continue to be much respected in the country in spite of their downfall and the confiscation of their property. The venerable lady into whose presence I was ushered bore, notwithstanding her advanced age, traces of a beauty that must have been perfect in its bloom. She was a fine tall blonde of the Circassian type, of a commanding appearance, softened by the sweet dignity of fallen sovereignty, before whom I felt I could bow the knee and kiss the hand she graciously extended to me. I had a long and interesting conversation with her on the state of the country, which she described as having been more flourishing under the rule of her husband than at this time. “But,” said she, with a sigh, “God ordains all things, casting some into misfortunes and raising others into prosperity, according as Kismet has prepared for all.Allah Kerim!”
Every one has heard or read of akiosk, the indispensable pleasure-seat of a Turk. The imperial and other kiosks on the Bosphorus are miniature palaces, luxuriously furnished, whose elegance and beauty are only equalled by the incomparable advantages of their situation on the richest of soils and beneath the sunniest of skies. Kiosks may be situated anywhere, and may comprise a suite of apartments or be limited to one; they are light and airy in style, generally commanding a fine prospect, often floored with marble, and containing ashadravan, or sculptured fountain, playing in the midst; a range of sofas runs all round the walls, on which the Turk loves to sit for hours together lost in meditation, and in the fumes of his inseparable companion thenargilé.
The interiors of old kiosks and konaks used to be ornamented with a peculiar open woodwork of arabesque design decorating the walls and ceilings, but this is now completely out of fashion. The ceiling of a house I formerly inhabited was decorated with this work, and attracted the attention of all travellers. One, an Englishman, was so much struck with it on entering the room, that hardly had he bowed to the company before he asked permission to make a sketch of it. We were so accustomed to similar displays of originality in British tourists that the request was at once granted.
Akoulais a high turret found on every largechiftlik, or farm, and used as a refuge in case of assault by brigands; it is a quadrangular edifice, from three to four stories high; the lowest is used as a granary and for storing seeds and other valuable property belonging to the farm; the others, light and airy, are reserved for the habitation of the owner of the chiftliks during his occasional visits to his property.
The last stronghold of this description I visited was the property of a British subject in the district of Salonika. It was solidly constructed, with massive iron doors and shutters, and some years ago resisted the assault of a band of brigands who besieged it for three days, till the arrival of a corps of Zaptiehs occasioned their hasty disappearance. The marks of their bullets may still be seen on the doors and shutters, but no further damage was done.
There is no very marked difference between the quarters of the town occupied by Christians and those occupied by Turks. The Christians’ houses are built very much in the same style, though they are not so large, and open directly on the street, with shops in their lower stories in the principal thoroughfares. The windows are free from the lattices invariably seen in a Turkishharemlik. There is much more life and animation in a Christian or Jewish quarter, partly in consequence of one house being occupied by several families. This is especially the case among the lower orders of Jews, where one may count as many families as there are rooms in a house.
In most Eastern towns the Jewish quarters, containing the fish, meat, and vegetable markets, are the most unclean, and consequently the most unhealthy. Few sanitary regulations exist, and little attention is paid to them or to the laws of hygiene. The streets are frequently nearly impassable, and some of the dwellings of the poor are pestilential, the hotbeds of every epidemic that visits the country.
Most of the ancient khans, warehouses, and bazars at Stamboul, and in large provincial towns, are fine solidly constructed edifices. The bazars are of a peculiarly Oriental style of architecture, and appear well adapted to the use for which they were designed—the display and sale of goods. In the interior, however, many of these bazars are neglected, and some left to decay have been by degrees abandoned by the tenants of the innumerable shops they once contained.
Thecharshi, or market-place, consists of an incongruous assemblage of shops, huddled together without any attempt at architecture or regard to appearances; for the most part protected only by large shutters that are raised in the morning and lowered at night. A low platform of boards occupies the greater part of the interior, in the front corner of which the shopkeeper sits on a little carpet, cross-legged, with a wooden safe by his side and his account-book and pipe within easy reach, ever ready to attend to the wants of his customers. Rows of shelves, constructed in recesses in the walls, serve as receptacles for his goods.
Thekhans, or warehouses, in towns are used as deposits for merchandise and for the transaction of business by merchants and bankers who have offices in them. A series of hostelries of all descriptions and dimensions, also called khans, some built of stone and others of timber, exist in large numbers in all parts of the country, serving as hotels to travellers and store-rooms for merchandise during transit. The ruins of the most ancient of these, built by the Turks at the time of the conquest, and used by them as blockhouses, still exist on the main roads and in some of the principal towns. By the side of these substantial stone buildings have arisen a number of miserable edifices dignified with the name of khan, with whose discomforts the weary traveller too often makes sad acquaintance.
The furniture of wealthy Greek houses in Constantinople is European; in those of Jews and Armenians of high position it is a compromise between European and Turkish. All Orientals are fond of display; they like to build large houses and ornament their reception rooms in a gaudy manner; but theensemblelacks finish and comfort. At A⸺ I had fixed upon an old Turkish konak as my residence; but on coming to inhabit it I discovered that extensive alterations and improvements must be made before it approached in the remotest degree to my idea of an English home. Some officious person, at a loss to understand the object of these changes, gave notice to the proprietor that his tenant was fast demolishing his house, upon which the good old Turk asked if she were building it up again, and being answered in the affirmative, quietly said, “Brak yupsen!” (laissez faire!)
The furniture found in the dwellings of all the lower classes is much the same throughout the country; a Turkish sofa, a few deal chairs, and a table serving for every purpose. The bedding is placed on the floor at night and removed in the morning. But if furniture is scanty, there is no lack of carpets and copper kitchen utensils, both being considered good investments by the poor.
Before concluding this chapter I must not forget to describe one of the most necessary adjuncts to a Turkish house—the bath. In a large house, or konak, this is by far the best fitted and most useful part of the whole establishment. A Turkish bath comprises a suite of three rooms; the first—thehammam—is a square apartment chiefly constructed of marble, and terminating in a kind of cupola studded with a number of glass bells, through which the light enters. A deep reservoir, attached to the outer wall, with an opening into the bath, contains the water, half of which is heated by a furnace built under it. A number of pipes, attached to the furnace, circulate through the walls of the bath and throw great heat into it. One or two graceful fountains conduct the water from the reservoir, and on each side of the fountain is a low wooden platform which serves as a seat for the bather, who sits cross-legged, and undergoes a long and complicated process of washing and scrubbing, with a variety of other toilet arrangements too numerous to mention.
The second room, called thesaouklouk, is constructed very much in the same style as the first, but is smaller, and has no furniture but a marble platform upon which mattresses and cushions are placed for the use of those who wish to repose between intervals of bathing, or do not wish to face the cooler temperature of thehammam oda. This room is furnished with sofas, on which the bathers rest and dress after quitting the bath.
Turkish women are very fond of their bath, and are capable of remaining for hours together in that hot and depressing atmosphere. They smoke cigarettes, eat fruits and sweets, and drink sherbet, and finally, after all the blood has rushed to their heads, and their faces are crimson, they wrap themselves in soft burnouses, and pass into the third or outer chamber, where they repose on a luxurious couch until their system shakes off part of the heat and languor that the abuse of these baths invariably produces. A bath being an indispensable appendage to every house, one is to be found in even the poorest Turkish dwelling. Some more or less resemble a regularhammam, others are of a very simple form—often a tiny cabinet attached to one of the rooms, containing a bottomless jar buried in the ground, through which the water runs. I consider these little baths, which are neither expensive nor require much space, excellent institutions in the houses of the poor as instruments of cleanliness. The constant and careful ablutions of the Turk are the principal preventives to many diseases, from which they are, comparatively speaking, freer than most nations.
The public baths, resorted to by all classes, are to be found in numbers in every town. They are fine buildings, exact copies of the old Roman baths, many of which are still in existence, defying the march of centuries and the work of decay. Like the home baths, they consist of three spacious apartments. The outer bath-room is a large stone building lighted by a cupola, with wooden platforms running all round, upon which small mattresses and couches are spread forthe men; but the women, not having the same privilege, are obliged to bring their own rugs, upon which they deposit their clothes, tied up in bundles, when they enter, and repose and dress upon them on coming out of the bath. A fountain of cold water is considered indispensable in this apartment, and in the basin surrounding it may be seen water-melons floating about, placed there to cool while their owners are in the inner bath.
The bath itself contains a number of small rooms, each of which can be separately engaged by a party, or used in common with the other bathers. It is needless to say that the baths used by men are either separate or are open at different hours.
Turkish women, independently of their home baths, must resort at least once a month to the publichammam. They like it for many reasons, but principally because it is the only place where they can meet to chat over the news of the day and their family affairs.
Some of these baths, especially the mineral ones at Broussa, are of the finest description. Gurgutly, containing the sulphureous springs, is renowned for the remarkable efficacy of its waters, its immense size, and the elegant and curious style of its architecture. It comprises two very large apartments, one for the use of the bathers previous to their entering the bath, the other the bath itself. This is an immense room, with niches all round containing fountains in the form of shells, which receive part of the running stream; in front of these are wooden platforms, on which the bathers collect for the purpose of washing their heads and scrubbing their bodies. On the left, as you enter, stands an immense marble basin, seven feet in length and three in width, into which the mother stream gushes with impetuous force. From this it runs into a large round basin about ten feet in depth, in which dozens of women and children may be seen swimming, an exhausting process, owing to the high temperature of the water and its sulphureous qualities. This wonderful basin is in the shape of a reversed dome, sunk into the marble floor, which is supported underneath by massive columns.
Coffee-houses are to be met with everywhere, and are very numerous in the towns. The Turks resort to them when they leave their homes early in the morning, to take a cup of coffee and smoke a nargilé before going to business. In the evening, too, they step in to have a chat with their neighbors and hear the news of the day. Turkish newspapers have become pretty common of late in these quiet rendezvous, and are to be found in the most unpretending ones. Few of these establishments possess an inviting exterior or can boast any arrangements with regard to comfort or accommodation; a few mats placed upon benches, and a number of common osier-seated chairs and stools, are the seats afforded in them. Small gardens may be found attached to some, while others atone for the deficiencies of their interiors by the lovely situations they occupy in this picturesque and luxurious land.