of intelligence which so rejoiced him, that he had sacrificed six sheep, one for each month, in gratitude to Allah and the Prophet, who had bestowed on him so virtuous a helpmate.
What a glorious burst of light flooded the enclosure when the sun at length clomb the horizon! It was not only a time of human festival, but nature’s own peculiar holyday; and there was an elasticity and balminess in the air that swept through the carriage, which made the heart leap for gladness.
The troops presented a better appearance in line than I had expected, but Sultan Mahmoud has yet much to do if he ever intends to make them look like soldiers. They are dirty, slouching, and awkward; tread inwards from their habit of sitting upon their feet, and march as though they were dragging their slippers after them. The frightful fèz is pulled down to their very eyebrows, and the ill-cut clothing is composed of the coarsest and dingiest materials.
But what shall I say of the officers? How shall I describe the appearance of the gallant individuals who were constantly passing and repassing, and making frequent pauses in our immediate vicinity; incited thereto, as I have no doubt, by the presence of two lovely young Turkish ladies, who had quitted their carriage, and established themselves on the footboard behind, in order to secure a better sight of the “Brother of the Sun,” whom we were all anxiously awaiting; and whose yashmacs were so gracefully, or shall I say coquettishly, arranged, that I doubt whether they would have been so attractive without them. They were of the whitest and clearest muslin, through which I not only saw the flowers that rested on their foreheads, and the diamonds that sparkled in the embroidered and richly-fringed handkerchiefs bound about their heads, but even the very colour of their lips. And then the magic of their long, sleepy, jet-black eyes, and the constant flinging back and refolding of the jealous feridjhe, by fingers white, and slender, and henna-tipped! I really pitied the sword-girt Moslems.
I was still gazing at these lovely women, when a party of about thirty field-officers passed the carriage, on their way to their places near the door of the Mosque, at which the Sultan was to enter. They were all similarly attired in surtout coats of Spanish brown, gathered in large folds at the back of the waist, and buttoned beneath a cloth strap; a very common and ugly fashion among the Turks; and wore sword-belts richly embroidered with gold. Many among them were some of the stoutest men I ever saw.
In about five minutes after them, arrived the led horses of the Sultan; and these formed by far the most splendid feature of the procession; they were ten in number, and wore on their heads a panache of white and pink ostrich feathers mixed with roses, and fastened down upon the forelock with a clasp of precious stones. Each was attended by a groom, controlling, with some trouble, the curvettings and capers of the pampered animals, who were caparisoned in a style of splendour which, if it have ever been equalled, can certainly never have been surpassed. Their housings, which were either of silk or velvet, all differing the one from the other, were embroidered with gold and silver, large pearls, and jewels. One of them bore, on a ground of myrtle-coloured velvet, the cypher of the Sultan wrought in brilliants, and surrounded by a garland of flowers formed of rubies, emeralds, and topaz. Another housing, of rich lilac silk, was worked at the corners with a cluster of musical instruments in diamonds and large pearls, and, as the sunshine flashed upon it, it was like a blaze of light. The remainder were equally magnificent; and the well-padded saddles of crimson or green velvet were decorated with stirrups of chased gold, while the bridles, whose embroidered reins hung low upon the necks of the animals, were one mass of gold and jewels.
The Sultan’s stud was succeeded by the Seraskier Pasha in state, mounted on a tall gray horse, (whose elaborate accoutrements were only inferior to those that I have attempted to describe,) and surrounded and followed by a dozen attendants on foot: his diamond-hilted sword—the rings upon his hands—the star in front of his fèz, and the orders on his breast, were perfectly dazzling.
At intervals of about a minute, all the great officers of state passed in the same order, and according to their respective ranks; and at length we heard the welcome sounds of the Imperial band, which struck up the Sultan’s Grand March, as Mahmoud the Powerful, the Brother of the Sun, and Emperor of the East, passed the gates of the court.
First came twelve running footmen, in richly laced uniforms, and high military caps; and these were succeeded by the twenty body pages, who were splendidly dressed, and wore in their chakos, plumes, or rather crêtes of stiff feathers, intermixed with artificial flowers of immense size, and originally invented to conceal the face of the Sultan as he passed along, and thus screen him from the Evil Eye! But his present Sublime Highness is not to be so easily scared into concealment, and the pages who were wont to surround his predecessors merely precede him, while a crowd of military officers supply their place, one walking at each of his stirrups, and the rest a little in the rear.
As this was the first occasion on which I had seen the Sultan, I leant eagerly forward upon my cushions to obtain a good view of him; and I saw before me, at the distance of fifteen or twenty yards at the utmost, a man of noble physiognomy and graceful bearing, who sat his horse with gentlemanlike ease, and whose countenance was decidedly prepossessing. He wore in his fèz an aigrette of diamonds, sustaining a cluster of peacock’s feathers; an ample blue cloak was flung across his shoulders, whose collar was one mass of jewels, and on the third finger of his bridle hand glittered the largest brilliant that I ever remember to have seen.
As he moved forward at a foot’s pace, loud shouts of “Long live Sultan Mahmoud!” ran along the lines, and were re-echoed by the crowd, but he did not acknowledge the greeting, though his eyes wandered on all sides, until they fell upon our party, when a bright smile lit up his features, and for the first time he turned his head, and looked long and fixedly at us. In the next instant, he bent down, and said something in a subdued voice to the officer who walked at his stirrup, who, with a low obeisance, quitted his side, and hastily made his way through the crowd, until he reached our carriage, to the astonishment and terror of a group of Turkish women who had ensconced themselves almost under it; and, bowing to my father, who still stood bare-headed beside us, he inquired of one of the servants who I was and what had brought me to Constantinople; the Sultan, meanwhile, looking back continually, and smiling in the same goodhumoured and condescending manner.
The reply was simple—I was an Englishwoman, and had accompanied my father to Turkey, for the purpose of seeing the country; and, having received this answer, the messenger again saluted us, and withdrew.
A very short interval ensued ere he returned, and hurriedly and anxiously resumed his inquiries, to which our attendant became too nervous to reply; when he exclaimed, “Is there no one here who can act as Dragoman, and give me the intelligence which is required by his Sublime Highness?”
“I will inform you of all that you require to learn, Effendim;” said my companion in her soft, harmonious, Turkish: “the lady is English.”
“His Highness sees that she is English;” replied the officer: “but he wishes to know who she is.”
This important information was added, and once more he departed.
Crowds of decorated individuals closed the procession; and in five minutes more Sultan Mahmoud dismounted and entered the Mosque.
The Chèïk-Islam, or High Priest, had preceded his Imperial Master; but we saw him only at a distance as he ascended the marble steps that I have already mentioned, and passed in through the great entrance. He wore a turban of the sacred green, about which was wound a massive chain, or rather belt, of gold; and was mounted on a fine Arabian, whose bridle was held by two grooms.
Sultan Mahmoud is not a handsome man, and yet it is difficult to define wherefore; for his features are good and strongly marked, and his eye bright and piercing. His jet black hair, seen in heavy curls beneath the fèz, which, like most of his subjects, he wears drawn down low upon his forehead; and his bushy and well-trimmed beard, add considerably to the dignity of his appearance, as well as giving to him a look of much greater youth than he can actually boast; but this is a merely artificial advantage, being the effect of one of those skilful dyes so common in the East.
As in Japan, the popular belief is firm that the King never dies, so in Turkey the Sovereign is never permitted to