The Kourban-Baïram being fixed for the 28th of March, we crossed over to Constantinople on the evening of the 27th, in order to be on the spot, and thus diminish the fatigue of the morrow. Mustafa Effendi, who had removed with his harem to his country-house, very obligingly offered us the use of his mansion for the night, as well as the services of his house-steward and a couple of servants; and we accordingly found ourselves once more at home beneath his hospitable roof.
I rejoiced that we required the accommodation only for some hours; as perhaps there are few things more depressing than a stroll through the empty and echoing chambers that you have associated with ideas and memories of mirth, and inhabitation, and amusement. The spacious apartments gave back a hollow reverberation, as we wandered over their uncarpeted floors, and flung open the casements of their uncurtained windows. The very chambers which had been purposely and carefully prepared for us were new and strange, being in a different part of the house from that occupied by the harem; and I more than once regretted the absence of the courteous old man who had received me so kindly on my first visit.
As I had failed to obtain a view of the procession at the Festival of the Baïram, that terminated the Ramazan, when an apartment had been prepared for us at the Mint, of which we were unable to take possession, owing to the density of the crowd, that filled every street in its neighbourhood, and which we were not sufficiently early to precede; I was the more anxious not to subject myself to a similar disappointment on the present occasion; a feeling that was, indeed, shared by the whole party; and, accordingly, on parting for the night, which we did at an early hour, we were very sincere in our reciprocal promises to be hyper-diligent on the morrow.
And what a night we passed! The cannon was booming along the water, and rattling in long-sustained echoes among the hills—the myriad dogs that infest the city, scared from their usually quiet rest, were howling, whining, and barking, without a moment’s intermission; and the Imperial band was perambulating the streets, attended by flambeau-bearers; and executing, with admirable precision, some noble pieces of music. The wind-instruments were relieved at intervals by the drums and fifes, than which there are, perhaps, none better in the world: and these were succeeded by the tramp, beneath our window, of the whole garrison of the city, afoot and under arms two hours before daybreak.
I watched the troops as they passed, the flaring torches throwing them into broad light between the two lofty white walls that hemmed in the narrow street, and from whose surface the sickly moonlight was fast waning, scrambling up the steep hill upon whose rise the house is built, rather in masses than in columns; officers and men mingled pell-mell, laughing, talking, and struggling over the rough pavement, in a manner much more picturesque than imposing.
I had scarcely thrown myself once more upon my sofa, in order to court the sleep of which I had as yet only dreamt, when the rattling of our heavy carriage into the courtyard, and the loud knock at the door by which the Greek waiting-maid announced her wish for admittance, dispelled my hopes once more; and when she entered, candle in hand, I resigned myself to my fate, and, having ascertained that it was nearly four o’clock, made a hasty toilette, and joined my companions.
The warmest and strongest of coffee was soon swallowed—by the way, what a sad pity it is that we know nothing about making coffee in Europe—and having settled ourselves comfortably in our well-cushioned araba, Madame——, myself, and our attendant were soon jolting over the rough pavé towards the scene of action, followed by my father and the two Turkish servants. The lattices of the carriage were closely shut, to avoid any possible difficulty, owing to our being Europeans; and one servant walked close beside each door, as though guarding the harem of some bearded Moslem.
Arrived within the precincts of the court of Sultan Achmet’s magnificent mosque, and fairly entamés among the carriages, which resembled a bed of scarlet and yellow poppies, we removed the lattices altogether, and remained lying very comfortably among our silken cushions, with the araba open on all sides, and immediately in front of us the space along which the procession was to pass: the line of carriages forming one boundary, and the other being guarded by a treble rank of military.
The coup-d’œil was beautiful! The sun was just fringing the fleecy clouds with a glad golden edge; and, as the vapours rolled away, the bright blue of the laughing sky spread far and wide its stainless canopy. The noble trees that overshadow a portion of the enclosure were just putting forth their young spring leaves, all fresh, and dewy, and tender—tokens of that infant vegetation which may be blighted by too rude a blast, and which awakens in the heart such gentle and such fond associations—the spacious steps of white marble that stretch far in front of the principal entrance of the mosque were crowded with human beings—the exterior gallery that runs along the side of the edifice on which the Sultan was to pass was filled with women, whose white veils and dark feridjhes made them look like a community of nuns—while, in the rear of the military, groups were every where forming, shifting, and producing the most interesting pictorial effects.
Here, it was a party of Jews—there, a knot of Armenians—further on, a circle of Greeks—and close beside us a cluster of women huddled together, and holding by the hand their rosy children, whose appearance I cannot more appropriately describe than by comparing them to the sweeps on May-day—such costumes! such pinks, greens, reds, and yellows, each out-glaring the other on the girls; the most grotesque prints fashioned into the most outré forms—pendent sleeves, trailing anterys, and little curly heads enveloped in painted handkerchiefs: while the boys from three years of age figured in surtout coats as brightly buttoned, and as ill-cut as those of their fathers—miniature pantaloons, corded with scarlet—and minute fez’s, with their purple tassels attached by stars of pearl of great beauty, or decorated with magnificent brilliant ornaments, fastened to the cap with pearl loops, to which were generally added golden coins, blue beads, and other preservatives against the Evil Eye!
A few Franks were distinguishable among the crowd; but they appeared and disappeared like wandering spirits, never resting long on the same spot, and earning many a quiet smile from their Moslem neighbours, who are never weary of marvelling at the perpetual locomotion of the Giaours, so opposed to their own love of rest and quiet. Give a Turk a moderately good position on such an occasion as this, and he will never abandon it on the bare possibility of procuring a better; but the Greek and the European fidget and fuss to the last moment, and very probably do not always profit by their pains.
The Kourban-Baïram, or festival of sacrifice, differs from that which takes place at the conclusion of the Ramazan, by its greater pomp and the circumstance that, on the occasion of the present festival, animals are sacrificed to propitiate the favour of the Divinity: and, as we drove along the streets, they were crowded with sheep and lambs about to be offered up.
Every head of a family sacrifices an animal with his own hands; and every male member of his household is at liberty to indulge his piety in a similar manner; but the chief of the house is bound to observe the ceremonial.
On his return from the Mosque, the Sultan puts on a sacrificial dress, and, while two attendants hold the lamb which is to be honoured by suffering the stab of the Imperial knife, he slaughters it with his Sublime hands. The first victim that he destroys is a propitiation for himself, but he afterwards offers up one for each member of his family, and consequently his office is by no means a sinecure.
Nor is this the only occasion on which this ancient Jewish rite is observed by the Turks. On recovery from a severe illness, on the birth of a child, on return from a pilgrimage—in short, in every leading circumstance of his life, the Musselmaun immolates a victim: but the Kourban-Baïram is the great sacrificial anniversary, and is observed with much splendour and rejoicing by all the population of the capital. The vessels in the harbour are gaily decked out with flags; all business is suspended; men grasp each other by the hand in the streets, and utter a fraternal greeting—and the poor are seen hastening from house to house to secure the flesh of the sacrifices, which is divided among themselves and the dogs of the city, scarcely less sacred than their own kind in the eyes of the Osmanlis.
A friend of mine was told the other day by a Turk with whom he is intimate, and who had just returned to Stamboul after an absence of six months, that he had ascertained that while he was away from