her slave, who prepares her boksha, or bundle, neatly arranged in a muslin handkerchief; and, on the entrance of the husband, his inquiries are answered by the intelligence that the Hanoum2 Effendi is gone to spend a week at the harem of so and so. Should he be suspicious of the fact, he takes steps to ascertain that she is really there; but the idea of controlling her in the fancy, or of making it subject of reproach on her return, is perfectly out of the question.
The instances are rare in which a Turk, save among the higher ranks, becomes the husband of two wives. He usually marries a woman of his own rank; after which, should he, either from whim, or for family reasons, resolve on increasing his establishment, he purchases slaves from Circassia and Georgia, who are termed Odaliques; and who, however they may succeed in superseding the Buyuk Hanoum, or head of the harem, in his affections, are, nevertheless, subordinate persons in the household; bound to obey her bidding, to pay her the greatest respect, and to look up to her as a superior. Thus a Turkish lady constantly prefers the introduction of half a dozen Odaliques into her harem to that of a second wife; as it precludes the possibility of any inconvenient assumption of power on the part of her companions, who must, under all circumstances, continue subservient to her authority.
The almost total absence of education among Turkish women, and the consequently limited range of their ideas, is another cause of that quiet, careless, indolent happiness that they enjoy; their sensibilities have never been awakened, and their feelings and habits are comparatively unexacting: they have no factitious wants, growing out of excessive mental refinement; and they do not, therefore, torment themselves with the myriad anxieties, and doubts, and chimeras, which would darken and depress the spirit of more highly-gifted females. Give her shawls, and diamonds, a spacious mansion in Stamboul, and a sunny palace on the Bosphorus, and a Turkish wife is the very type of happiness; amused with trifles, careless of all save the passing hour; a woman in person, but a child at heart.
Were I a man, and condemned to an existence of servitude, I would unhesitatingly chuse that of slavery in a Turkish family: for if ever the “bitter draught” can indeed be rendered palatable, it is there. The slave of the Osmanli is the child of his adoption; he purchases with his gold a being to cherish, to protect, and to support; and in almost every case he secures to himself what all his gold could not command—a devoted and loving heart, ready to sacrifice its every hope and impulse in his service. Once forget that the smiling menial who hands you your coffee, or pours the rose-water on your hands from an urn of silver, has been purchased at a price, and you must look with admiration on the relative positions of the servant and his lord—the one so eager and so earnest in his services—the other so gentle and so unexacting in his commands.
No assertion of mine can, however, so satisfactorily prove the fact which I have here advanced, as the circumstance that almost all the youth of both sexes in Circassia insist upon being conveyed by their parents to Constantinople, where the road to honour and advancement is open to every one. The slaves receive no wages; the price of their services has already been paid to their relatives; but twice in the year, at stated periods, the master and mistress of the family, and, indeed, every one of their superiors under the same roof, are bound to make them a present, termed the Backshish, the value of which varies according to the will of the donor; and they are as well fed, and nearly as well clothed, as their owners.
As they stand in the apartment with their hands folded upon their breasts, they occasionally mix in the conversation unrebuked; while, from their number, (every individual maintaining as many as his income will admit), they are never subjected to hard labour; indeed, I have been sometimes tempted to think that all the work of a Turkish house must be done by the fairies; for, although I have been the inmate of several harems at all hours, I never saw a symptom of any thing like domestic toil.
There is a remarkable feature in the position of the Turkish slaves that I must not omit to mention. Should it occur that one of them, from whatever cause it may arise, feels himself uncomfortable in the house of his owner, the dissatisfied party requests his master to dispose of him; and, having repeated this appeal three several times, the law enforces compliance with its spirit; nor is this all—the slave can not only insist on changing owners, but even on selecting his purchaser, although he may by such means entail considerable loss on his master. But, as asseveration is not proof, I will adduce an example.
The wife of Achmet Pasha had a female slave, who, being partial to a young man of the neighbourhood, was desirous to become his property. Such being the case, she informed her mistress that she wished to be taken to the market and disposed of, which was accordingly carried into effect; but, as she was young and pretty, and her lover in confined circumstances, he was soon outbidden by a wealthier man; and, on her return to the harem of Achmet Pasha, her mistress told her that an Asiatic merchant had offered twenty thousand piastres for her, and that she would be removed to his house in a few days. “I will not belong to him,” was the reply; “there was a young man in the market who bid twelve thousand for me, and I have decided to follow him. My price to you was but ten thousand piastres, and thus you will gain two thousand by selling me to him.” Her declaration was decisive: she became the property of her lover, and her resolution cost her mistress eighty pounds sterling.
The most perfect cleanliness is the leading characteristic of Eastern houses—not a grain of dust, not a foot-mark, defaces the surface of the Indian matting that covers the large halls, whence the several apartments branch off in every direction; the glass from which you drink is carefully guarded to avoid the possibility of contamination; and, the instant that you have eaten, a slave stands before you with water and a napkin to cleanse your hands. To the constant use of the bath I have already alluded; and no soil is ever seen on the dress of a Turkish gentlewoman.
I am quite conscious that more than one lady-reader will lay down my volume without regret, when she discovers how matter-of-fact are many of its contents. The very term “Oriental” implies to European ears the concentration of romance; and I was long in the East ere I could divest myself of the same feeling. It would have been easy for me to have continued the illusion, for Oriental habits lend themselves greatly to the deceit, when the looker-on is satisfied with glancing over the surface of things; but with a conscientious chronicler this does not suffice; and, consequently, I rather sought to be instructed than to be amused, and preferred the veracious to the entertaining.
This bowing down of the imagination before the reason is, however, the less either a merit on the one hand, or a sacrifice on the other, that enough of the wild and the wonderful, as well as of the bright and the beautiful, still remains, to make the East a scene of enchantment. A sky, whose blue brilliancy floods with light alike the shores of Asia and of Europe—whose sunshine falls warm and golden on domes, and minarets, and palaces—a sea, whose waves glitter in silver, forming the bright bond by which two quarters of the world are linked together—an Empire, peopled by the gathering of many nations—the stately Turk—the serious Armenian—the wily Jew—the keen-eyed Greek—the graceful Circassian—the desert-loving Tartar—the roving Arab—the mountain-born son of Caucasus—the voluptuous Persian—the Indian Dervish, and the thoughtful Frank—each clad in the garb, and speaking the language of his people; suffice to weave a web of tints too various and too brilliant to be wrought into the dull and commonplace pattern of every-day existence.
I would not remove one fold of the graceful drapery which veils the time-hallowed statue of Eastern power and beauty; but I cannot refrain from plucking away the trash and tinsel that ignorance and bad taste have hung about it; and which belong as little to the masterpiece they desecrate, as the votive offerings of bigotry and superstition form a part of one of Raphaël’s divine Madonnas, because they are appended to her shrine.
CHAPTER VII.
The Harem of Mustafa Effendi—The Ladies of the Harem—Etiquettical Observances of the Harem—Ceremonies of the Salemliek—Jealousy of Precedence among the Turkish Women—Apartment of the Effendi—Eastern Passion for Diamonds—Personal Appearance of Mustafa Effendi—The little Slave-girl—Slavery in Turkey—Gallant Present—The Dinner—Turkish Cookery—Illuminated