Monday, 20 April 2020

Romance of a Harem

Chapter X

One Friday I was told to accompany the great Princess Zeinep, the eldest sister of the Prince, to the palace of the Sultana Fatma.

The Princess Zeinep had kept her immense fortune; she observed with great strictness the Mussulman traditions. Intelligent, proud, and very pious, she rarely even received ambassadresses. Nevertheless, Madame de Gasparin was received by her, and kept always a delightful memory of that interview. The Princess was devoted to her brother Halim, which she proved by leaving him all her fortune. She lived in the greatest magnificence in the palace of Bebek, and rarely visited the Sultanas. These visits were a great expense on account of the money and jewels which was the custom to distribute amongst the wives of the Sultan.

Notwithstanding that she never allowed a French dress in her harem, she sent an order that I was to be dressed in the latest Parisian fashion. She thought that thus I should be more easily noticed by the Sultana, to whom she wished to present me. The Prince was interested in this, and sent me from his treasury a pair of earrings which were said to have belonged to Marie Antoinette. They were single diamonds cut in the shape of almonds, and he begged that I would wear no other jewels.

The Sultana Fatma lived like an idol in the depths of her palace. Daughter of Abdul Medjed, it was she who, after the Crimean War, used to drive about in a carriage with massive silver wheels, shaded by a large umbrella with a diamond fringe, the handle of which was ornamented with an enormous ruby the size of a pigeon's egg, which gave the French ambassador, Monsieur Thouvenel, many sad reflections. Up to the death of her father, she lived as a celebrity in all Oriental annals; and the people listened with open ears and eyes to the marvellous descriptions of her luxury and magnificence.

For many long years the Sultana Fatma had lived a retired life in the palace of Balta Liman, where I entered behind the Princess Zeinep. On going in we heard first of all in the distance the professional laughers, and nothing was more peculiar than the sound of that unreal mirth, which echoed in the silence like a pebble dropped in a well.

Laid out in those vast and deserted rooms were the presents made to Abdul Medjed by foreign sovereigns, Louis XVI, candelabras, gilt furniture, stately old Sevres china, great vases from Japan and China unknown in any trade. On cabinets, in every style, were antique clocks ranged symmetrically, and in place of honour you saw stuffed birds on musical boxes encrusted with stones, stuffs embroidered with pearls, a thousand precious things which remained there till the Sultana, pressed for money, allowed some Jew dealer to carry off a load of them.

After a wait of an hour, the Princess and I were admitted into the presence of the Sultana Fatma. She was very particular that all the ceremonial of genuflexion should be rigorously carried out; and it was only after all the customary salutations were made that I dared lift my eyes to her, when for the first time I saw a Sultana.

She was a woman with a face as absolutely immovable and expressionless as that of a goddess. Her eyes which nothing could astonish or interest, gazed into vacancy with a look of complete authority, so absolute that they made one uncomfortable.

Clothed in a dress of a strange green colour, with not even a jewel to break the uniformity, she preserved a silence that was only broken by the professional laughers. Slowly she asked after the health of the Princess, who answered her without omitting a single word of the compliments and formulas that were necessary. She wished to see me clearly, and made me go close to her, examining me curiously, like a bit of carved ivory is inspected by connoisseurs. At a sign, a lady of the palace appeared dressed in white satin, with golden dyed hair, in which were birds of paradise made of large pearls.

"Ela Hanem will dine with us," said the Sultana in an expressionless voice - such a voice as the dead Caliphs must use when they talk together in their vast burial place.

The dinner was remarkable; the slaves in low cut ball-dresses carried the immense dishes, which were of rare china, gold or silver; the table sparkled with a fairylike brilliancy. The attendants walked slowly, or held themselves immovable with their arms crossed and the head thrown a little backwards, and their white throats thrust out. The Sultana could keep a sort of illusion to herself of great wealth when she saw all this luxury about her; but away from there, in the depths of the palace, the slaves of the fourth rank were most uncomfortable, and complained bitterly of their distress.

On leaving the palace, the lady in waiting of the Princess distributed the customary presents amongst the immediate entourage of the Sultana, and that simple visit cost the Princess four hundred pounds. And it struck me that it would be pleasanter to watch the waters of the Bosphorus than to go often and kiss the stuff on the divan of a Sultana - a praiseworthy sentiment of independence, doubtless instilled into me by the European reviews which the Prince had lent me to read. That evening on goin going in I watched for some time the sunset with its blaze of gold and rose-coloured clouds, and I listened to the Muezzin who chanted his prayer to Allah. It was a hymn of infinite sadness which left one's heart bruised with a mysterious pain. I hid my face in my hands, moved with a great pity for all sufferings of which I knew nothing, and the voice of that man made me guess at.






Tuesday, 7 April 2020

Romance of a Harem


Chapter IX

On the first Friday of every month I paid a visit to the ladies of the household of the Prince; for though one lived in the same palace they were vert ceremonious about certain customs. I began the day with the chief lady, whose position is one of considerable importance. I found her sitting on the highest of her divans with a beautiful cashmere wound round her waist, and on her head was white muslin, exquisitely painted with flowers and wreathed with other artificial flowers. This manner of doing the hair is a very pretty one, and is always called hotoz, the muslin and flowers being fastened with great jewelled pins, and is only worn by ladies of a certain age. From each ear hung a large pear-shaped emerald, joined by a silken thread which hung loosely on the neck.

The room with its fine gilt matting had as furniture three little divans, and at one end, in the full daylight an Egyptian bed, a perfect blaze of colour and embroidered cushions draped in mosquito curtains of pale blue Brussels net with silver woven through it.

After the usual exchange of compliments, there was silence for some time - the silence which always exists between ladies of high rank who are in no hurry to talk, but who find considerable pleasure in each other's company. As I was leaving, three ladies entered dressed in the French manner, but bowing in the graceful Turkish way. It seemed that that was the only national thing they were allowed to keep in their lives that were sacrificed to the wish to appear "a la Franka."

Yellow dyed hair, tight stays, Louis XV. heels, reddened lips, frizzed hair on their foreheads - all details which they took so much trouble about, and transformed these women into merely ridiculous dolls.

If only each country could keep its national costumes, instead of copying those of their neighbours!

All the visits I paid were alike - everywhere I was welcomed with the same gentle amiability and dignity which is invariable amongst Turkish women. No unpleasant allusion was ever made to my rather peculiar position, and discretion is rigidly observed by the ladies of a harem, who carefully conceal, as if it were a dishonour, any slight disagreeable thing that might by chance spring up amongst them.

Everywhere the same simplicity, the divans of a dazzling whiteness, and all colour and air of luxury concentrated solely on the bed, with its mattresses of white watered silk, its damask coverings embroidered with golden flowers, little cushions worked in delicate designs in seed-pearls, and mosquito curtains of golden or coloured net.

I found the room of Kuchuk Oumil Bey ( the prettiest and most charming of the young mothers) empty. I often went to see this attractive young woman, and greatly admired the elegance of her apartments - always fragrant with freshly-cut flowers and a soft warm air which gave the place a certain feeling of comfort and well-being. Thinking perhaps that Oumil Bey was taking her bath, I opened the door if the hammam where I heard the running water. On one of the divans all the young woman's garments were spread out, sparkling with gold embroideries; two hand-glasses, powder-boxes, large flacons of toilet waters; and on the ground, laid out on a large square of mauve silk, was a dressing-gown of pale soft silk, trimmed with a mass of Valenciennes lace. There was a little chatter of heels on the pavement, and Oumil Bey came in, enveloped in towels, and a white turban round her head.

After a few compliments and civilities had been exchanged, she gave herself up to her toilet, and wrapped chastely in her towels stretched out her limbs which were carefully rubbed with some sweet, milky lotion. That finished, she disappeared for a moment and returned enveloped in a cloud of soft muslin - giving one the idea of a young plant, supple and strong, that had lately been watered, and was spreading its leaves and flowers to the warm summer's sun.
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I continued my round of visits, and lifting a portiere I entered the apartment of Beuyuk Ouma Hanem, who was one of the favourites, for she already had two children.

She was a woman with a passionate nature, fanatical and almost violent in her desires. Her beauty, though of rather a hard type, was still remarkable, and she was possessed of masses of copper-coloured hair, with marvellously long and thickly painted eyelashes and a colourless creamy complexion. She put down her cigarette for a moment to welcome me, and then let her eyes wander vaguely and dreamily on the Bosphorus that lay stretched out at our feet.

"My spirit is slowly dying," she said softly; "nothing will ever kindle in it again the real feeling of happiness."
"But our exile will cease soon," I said gently. "
"Soon- soon," she replied, lifting herself languidly on her cushions. "It is with that word that we send children to sleep - and you know well our Prince is not of the race of Christian Princes to turn towards Paris like the sunflowers do to the sun; and Paris - the famous Paris- why do they think so much of it? I remember some years ago a son of the king, called Plonplon, came to see us at Choubra. He treated his wife as we treat our negresses; and then another came - by name Chambord. He ought to have been of the Islamite race, he was so grave. Then the beautiful Empress Eugenie, who, to recompense the officers attached to her person, gave them her photograph only, with her signature on it. Not a single diamond - nothing! Aman, it was pitiable. When sovereigns travel," continued Ouma Hanem with warmth, "they ought to leave the people overcome with admiration for their generosity, and not only photographs behind them like celebrated wrestlers. First of all, European sovereigns never take themselves seriously, and then they are astonished that their people do not respect them."

She grew animated and happy to find a listener attentive and serious. "Here even," she continued, " in this palace where we are settled, and which the Khedive offered to our Prince, we can remember one fine example - that of the Princess Nazley. She at least was magnificent in her generosity, and terrible with her anger. Whoever was wanting in respect to her paid for it with his life. She, as you know, once inhabited this palace, and was accustomed to sleep on a mattress over which slaves held up mosquito curtains. One day one of them let fall the corner that she held up on the foot of the Princess. Immediately she caused the clumsy one to be laid on the floor, and on her bare stomach burning charcoal was put, and the Princess tranquilly drank coffee that had been heated on this strange grate. One day the husband of the Princess admired the beautiful hair of a slave who held the basin in which he washed his hands. The next morning he saw the freshly-severed head hung up by its hair to the cornice of his bed when he awoke."

After a silence, with frowning eyebrows she continued.

"Don't you see, the only powerful sovereign is the one who makes himself feared. The royal family of Egypt has known how to be cruel, like all dynasties at the beginning of their power; but it has lost its instinct of authority, and the populace has no longer any belief in the power of kings. Look at our Prince - look at the Sultan - they are mere lambs.

Our conversation ended there, and I said farewell to the favourite Ouma Hanem.

That evening, for the first time, I was on duty near the Prince; and the prospect of watching over the heir to the throne, lying on a mattress across his doorway, with the watchword that was to prevent any one whoever it might be from entering, filled me with a sort of pride. The highest personages are always guarded thus by a woman, whilst soldiers and other guardians watch by the door of the harem.

In the interior of a harem the master enjoys absolute power. The police can never enter, and the most terrible dramas might be acted there, and no one would have the right to interfere. Now, I believe life passes in them quite tranquilly, and apart from the death of Abdul Aziz I have heard of no tragedies.

Wrapped in my long night-clothes I was stretched  out on my bed across the door. About eleven o'clock, after the two dressers had gone out, I heard the Prince clap his hands. I jumped up and went in. Halim, dressed in correct English indoors suit with is fez pushed back, was reading some European review. On recognizing me, he gave a gesture of astonishment, and getting up pushed me gently towards the door saying,"How is it that you are here so late?"

"It is my right," I answered. "I am on duty for the night, and I begin my first evening of guard."

"No, no, my child," he said, "you are not of our religion, and I should do wrong to let you be treated as if you were so."

A quick feeling of anger seized me, and I answered sharply, with rather a broken voice. " I will stay, I will stay; it would be a disgrace for me to be sent back. What reputation should I have if you should send me away from you this evening? Every one would be against me, and my life would be intolerable. I should not have the courage to live."

The Prince lit a cigar without answering me; then he opened widely the window, standing up with his back to me, and looked out on the Bosphorus which lay like a vast sheet of satin under the silver rays of the moon. The silence which followed seemed full of a great sadness, and when the Prince spoke again, his voice made me tremble vaguely.

"When you are twenty-one you shall see and choose for yourself, my child; till that moment I do not wish you to adopt Islamite customs, and if you do not give me any grave reason for displeasure, you have my word that I shall marry you. But for the moment I wish you to be odalisque only in name; I wish you to be free to choose the sort of life which seems best to you, and, " he added with a smile, "perhaps you will marry a king and not a prince." Holding out his hand to me he said gently: "Stay and do your service, and keep our secret with the fidelity with which you brought the letters from the Minister of War."

"And I," I cried passionately - " I have loved you from the day I threw myself into the water to join you; when I suddenly hear your voice my heart swells as if it would choke me; if your hand touches me, it makes my blood rush through my veins, and seems to burn my skin. Your eldest daughter, who guessed my secret, when she heard you coming, used to cover my eyes with her hand, to calm the suffering in my child'd heart; but I never was a child; I was tortured with jealousy; you knew it then - you know it now. I used to put my face near yours only that I might breathe your breath, and I felt my pupils dilate when I looked into your eyes; my very flesh throbbed with love if you touched my lips with yours."

My breath came in short gasps, and I could not help closing my eyes, seized as I was with a fierce longing to cry. But I had learnt to restrain all tears, so as not to displease him, though I felt that inside my heart was crying passionately, sadly.

He could no longer resist the wish to have me near him, and with a look of deepest affection he drew me to him almost roughly and kissed me on the lips.

"I love you, Ela," he said, "I love you better than desire itself, and in a way I have never yet been capable of loving. I have always lived the life of a positivist, but holding you in my arms I have discovered that I have a spirit of sentiment. I believe in a better instinct which tells me not to take advantage of your inexperience. You will go to the European life for a time,if it seems good to you, and you shall make your choice when you are of age. I have never believed in an ideal love, but in this furtive moment I believe, and I thank you for having given me belief."

Then I put my arms close round his neck, and swore that nothing should make me renounce his religion, and said: "You know I do not like European life. I have seen, thanks to you, the luxurious and comfortable life in great French families. Never could I accustom myself to that life of excitement without end. Nothing, my Prince, can take the place of the happy harem life."

After my eight hours of guard, I went back to my ordinary mode of life.

Wednesday, 7 October 2015

All The Single Ladies

Well, that'll be just me.
After listening to a Kim Cattrall interview for Radio 4's Woman's Hour, I was inspired. She is currently single and loving it.

I've been single for 3 or 4 years now and I am very happy and content. Does the idea of having a man around the house appeal to me? Yes. But is it better than having a bed to myself, doing what I want when I want and living in yoga pants?! For me, the joys of being single outweigh the joys of a relationship. 

I've been told that this is because I haven't met the right one. Really? What if I'm meant to be single? I'm heading towards 29, with no man on the horizon and no desire to go and find one. My plans include travel, getting my own place and much more me time doing what I want. A man just doesn't fit in my plans, and that doesn't bother me.

I can truly see myself being single forever and that feels fabulous. No ball and chain tying me down. There's no denying that when you're in a relationship your partner has to at least be aware of your plans, whether that's what work patterns you're doing or what holiday you want to go on . But for me, I have no one to answer to. Unless you include my over protective mother, but even then she's fine as long as she knows where I am. As for my father, I could be on Mars for a month before he'd notice me missing, but I'm sure he'd wonder why only two female voices were nagging him instead of three.

I've loved and been heartbroken and yes, inevitably that has screwed me up emotionally. I don't want to let anyone in for the fear of being hurt again. But that isn't stopping me living.

If I meet someone and they can put up with all my habits, personality flaws and cat obsession, then wonderful! But it's not my be all and end all. 

I do not need to find a man. I do not need to settle down. I want to live, I want to travel, and none of those involve a partner. My 5 year plan is very self centred and I love it.

All I've got to do is get my leg operations out the way with and I can truly start my life plan. Until then, I can hobble around, dreaming of my gypsy life.

Wednesday, 22 July 2015

Romance of a Harem



Chapter VIII

One day I had gone to the Minister for War to tell him of a new desire of Hairiee's, when he begged me to be the bearer myself of a letter to the Prince Halim.
"I advise you not to lose it," he said as he gave it to me, and I felt a sort of tremor as I met his eyes.

When I reached the palace they told me the Prince was absent. With a sadness that I could not explain I sat down, and my slave, having waited some time in front of me with crossed arms, seeing that I asked for nothing, retired silently. I took my guitar and began playing almost unconsciously, watching meanwhile through the open windows the boats floating on the calm waters of the Bosphorus.
A great silence lay over the sea, and a delicious fragrance on the evening air, but somehow I could not shake off the vague feeling of melancholy which oppressed me.

The sudden rush of oars through the water made me lean out, and I saw the caïq of the Prince glide up along the landing-stage, and stop suddenly at the white marble steps with a sureness and precision which is a great art amongst the boatmen.

All the blood in my heart seemed to surge up to my head. I drew a hand-mirror from the cushions of the divan, and looked at myself critically; then quickly passing between my eyelids a tortoise-shell pin, arranged the folds of my rose-coloured intari, and slipped on my slippers which I had left at the foot of the divan, felt for the letter which I had hidden in my breast, and then I went out.

I was obliged to pass right through the harem. It was the hour for food, and the slaves were passing with large covered silver dishes on their heads, whilst the eunuch who was on duty called repeatedly "Destour!" ("attention"). On all sides I heard the light laughter of the women, who were playing tric-trac, which was the last new game in the harem, and which, like all other games, had its short reign and then vanished. I passed through the long bare corridors, where a soft, warm wind floated in through the open doors, and up the matting-covered stairs, and past the big room reserved for the children who were being taught to sing the Koran, and crossing the garden I went towards the kiosque which the Prince had had built, and which he only quitted in the great heat of summer.

The slaves on duty were sitting in a large circle on the ground, awaiting the arrival of the Prince, who had not yet come in. I sat down on one of the violet satin divans, and listened to the adventures of Nasreddin Hodja, that a lady secretary was reading aloud to the women. One of them respectfully begged the reader if she would stop the reading, and write a letter for her to her sister, who was one of the coffee-bearers to the Khedive. The secretary drew from her sash the case containing the Chinese ink and a pen, and immediately wrote down the long list of compliments which it is the custom to begin a letter with, and then asked the girl if there were anything she particularly wished to say. "No," said the slave, "so long as it is a letter; that is all I wish to send her."
The whole group was much interested in the lette, which, when finished, was handed to a eunuch, who passed it on to a messenger, who in his turn gave it to another of lower degree, who put it in the folds of his sash - the invariable destiny of the rare letters that were written in the harem.

The Prince entered, and two slaves immediately preceded His Highness to the entrance of his room, where they stood before the door which he left half open behind him. I glided into the room, and Halim turning swiftly round, threw his arms about me and kissed my eyes, holding me in a close embrace. On hearing the steps of two slaves who were on duty approaching, he went and sat down, and asked for a cigar from one of them. I then drew from my dress the letter of the Ministerr of War, and laid it on his knees, feeling not unmoved, as I always did, in his presence. He read it through several times, whilst the slaves, bearing heavy silver torches stood near him, holding their burdens first in one hand, and then in the other, for their weight was so great that it made them tremble.
Suddenly he held the letter to one of the flames and watched it slowly burn.
"There was enough in it to cause one to be taken to the Place d'Acq Meiden" (the place of execution), he said to me in French, in a voice so shaken by emotion that I felt as if I had suddenly received a wound.

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The next day I was summoned to the presence of His Highness, who gave me a small bag of grey cloth tied with string and sealed with red wax.
"You must take this to the harem of the Minister of War. To-day being Friday, he will go out very late, and you will give it him with your own hands," he said.
On arriving at the house, I was so early that the Minister received me with a fur cloak thrown over his sleeping-clothes, and who cried when he saw me, "Thanks be to Allah! what news?"
Whilst his wife said: "Well, my child, the flowers are still red with the dawn, and you are already here."
"Don't talk, my wife," said he, "but order some fruits for the child," and then he examined closely the seals on the package.
"More surprises from Paris?" She asked.
"What is there in the bag - money? - or some new French inventions? - tell me, Pasha, what is it?"
Then understanding that she would learn nothing, she laughed, the rather loud laugh of a somewhat vulgar woman.

Hussein Avni had married her when he was a sous-officier, and since that time he had never even dreamt of making her unhappy by choosing another and perhaps more refined wife.
Two slaves brought in a Roman salad, cherries, strawberries, cooked beans, and boiled maize, which we all three tranquilly ate with all the enjoyment of real Turks, for these plain repasts are much appreciated by the simple-minded Mussulman. The Minister was much amused at the way his wife teased me with a hundred questions, and naturally taking advantage of my presence, led the conversation on to the subject of dresses from Paris, pretending to hesitate concerning the respective merits of Laferrière and Soinard.

Suddenly the Minister said to me with a kindly smile: "Ela, my child, write to Laferrière to send a dress for my child, only write quickly, my lamb."
"Certainly," I answered, "only you must bear in mind that she is more expensive than Soinard."
"But much more chic," interrupted Madame Hussein Avni, and at the use of this French word we all laughed.
" You may write," said the Pasha. "I will pay, for the Sultan is very generous to me - and at this moment, when I am Grand Vizier and the Minister of War, everything is in my hands; there is nothing that I need refuse, and I shall do as others do. Fortune at last opens the door that I had double-locked. An honest man! - what is that? No one believes or gives one credit for being it. Hitherto I have deprived Hairiee of many things; now she shall have all she wishes-nothing shall be too good or expensive for her. Allons! Hairiee, my sweet-eyed one, my treasure," he continued, laying aside his chibouk and drawing towards him this ungrateful child, who was later to cause him such great misfortunes, "what do you wish now? - what is the desire of your heart?"
She only smiled, and as the Minister was now due at the War Office, he put on his coat, and whilst the slaves were drawing on his boots, his wife seized this unexpected opportunity to give him a list of all the things he was to buy in the town - a ruby and diamond tiara for Hairiee - who was going to the wedding of one of the ladies of the palace - a coupé with English horses for their son, a hundred pieces of Indian muslin for their slaves, six Japanese dishes big enough to hold a roast sheep, white tortoise-shell spoons, and innumerable packets of wax candles.
The Pasha listened patiently. He had always done the commissions for his wife, and he had no idea of changing the customs of his life, which was entirely sacrificed to the happiness of his family. Then looking at the clock, and seeing how late it was, he hurriedly left.

On quitting the palace, I saw the Minister outside in conversation with General Ignatiev, the Russian Ambassador. Hussein Avni was very calm, and, I saw, refused to speak French.
The Ambassador was talking much and excitedly, and I could not help thinking of what I once heard old Mehmet Ruchtu Pasha say: "For each step the Russian takes, he tells ten lies."

Tuesday, 3 March 2015

Romance of a Harem

Chapter VII

As time went on, a more or less superficial reconciliation was effected between Prince Halim and the Khedive Ismaël, and amicable relations were renewed between the harems of Egypt and those of the exile, though Halim still continued to live at the palace of Keurfesse. The new situation affected me considerably, for it brought me in contact with the Khedive and his wives.

Ismaël begged the Prince to allow me to go and stay with his daughter Princess Fatma, which new plan did not please me at all, nor could I hide my dislike to the idea. I sought the Prince, and kissing his hands, said, "As I am obliged to go, let me at least pass this last day near you."

That day Halim was engaged in having the diamonds of his treasury washed, and himself assisted at the delicate operation, which consisted in soaking the jewels in a kind of acid which loosened them from their settings. With a child's pleasure I plunged my hands in the basins, letting the glittering diamonds run through my fingers.
When they were washed, they were put into bags carefully arranged on the table. I emptied them into my hands, which were too small to hold their shining contents, and many were scattered on the carpet. It amused the Prince, and he drew me towards him, pressing my cheek against his, and with his wonderfully young laugh he said, "I am twenty years older than you, my child, but I wait with impatience till you are twenty-one, when I shall marry you. Do you understand and that?"
Certainly I understood, and a shiver made my lips whiten, and my eyelids close.
Was it possible, he thought, that a young girl could, without knowing it, love him, in the same way in which he loved her?
He rose and walked to the window, over the white bearskins which covered the floor of the room.
"Ela," he said, "Come," and holding me in his arms he covered my eyes and cheeks with quick, passionate kisses. "I love you," he said, "I love you."

I stayed three days with Princess Fatma, the daughter of the Khedive. She was the most haughty of all the Princesses, and wished to dazzle me, so that on my return the harem of Prince Hamil should receive from me a detailed account of the extraordinary luxe that surrounded her.
On my arrival at the Khedivial palace, the ladies' maids undressed me and led me to the Turkish bath, then clothed me in the most wonderful gold-embroidered silks, trimmed with point d' Alençon and English lace, shoes with gold heels, strings of emeralds, rings on every finger, diamond flowers in my hair and four rows of diamonds round my neck.
Decked out in this manner I was led into the presence of the Princess, who received me with a chill dignity of manner, and gave me her hand to kiss.
The apartments of the Princess were given up to great disorder, and luxury was allowed to run riot, which greatly spoilt the general effect. All that woman's extravagant imagination could conceive was realised to an absurd extent. From Paris, from China, Stamboul, and America, were brought clothes and jewels. Worth sent dresses; the jewellers, masses of rings, necklaces and bracelets.

Every day came singers and dancers and rows of slaves. The Princess herself examined them, saying to one: "Show me your teeth." To another: "Let me see your back - or your shoulders." Quantities of these girls were bought, many of whom were almost ill with emotion and delight at finding themselves chosen for royal service. The governesses were enriched with a thousand things that the princesses were tired of. Almost daily some caprice or other sent a French servant to Paris or elsewhere for some trivial purpose, such as to get a tooth-brush!
And nothing would have induced the Princess Fatma to use any brush but the one brought from Paris by the servant who had been sent solely for this important commission.
This special envoy always travelled first-class, smoked enormous and expensive cigars, and dazzled the shops that supplied the royal household, with his descriptions. Alas! these descriptions were in no way exaggerated. The French chef did his work in he kitchens in sleeves of Valenciennes lace. And the house steward gave wonderful fêtes, to which all the merchants of Pera were invited. He royally spent the Egyptian money, saying grandly, "We will show them what it is to entertain." The ladies' maids wore dresses from Worth, saying, "It is the Princess who pays, but it is we who wear these clothes."

Like all the Princes of his house, Ismaël had the gift of inspiring great affection amongst the women of his harem; and many of them were consumed with love for him, which was all the more extraordinary, for he was fat, and heavy and unattractive. Nevertheless, he had a certain charm about him.
As to Prince Halim, he was really irresistible, but at least he had the most beautiful eyes; and the most lovely courtezans would have gladly thrown over the Khedive himself for a flower that he had worn. And at Constantinople, when he passed in his beautiful boat with his ten rowers, many a shutter opened and flowers were thrown towards him.
One evening the Khedive sent for me. I found him sitting on his sofa wrapped in a long fur garment. He had taken off his European clothes, and his bare feet, having been bathed in rose-water, were curled up under him. He looked at me fixedly for a moment, and then asked me to light him a cigarette, adding almost roughly, "Do you do the same for the Prince?"
I said "Yes."
"If you like you shall marry my son Mehmet Twefik - you please me."
"Thank you," I answered, "I do not care about young men."
"Very well then, if you wish it, you shall be the prettiest of the Vice-Queens."
"Again I must thank you Highness, but it is the Prince my master who pleases me."
"Machallah!" cried Ismaël. "he fascinates you all from your cradles. You will return to your lover, and you will tell him from me that the irade changing the succession to the throne of Egypt is really signed at last. Go - it is a piece of news that will give him pleasure; for the future, it will be enough for him to reign in your hearts. You may return to him."

A governess was called, who re-conducted me to the Prince, but the affair was carried out with considerable formality. Two eunuchs followed us, bearing the clothes and jewels the Vice-Queen had given me, and Ismaël ordered that the little steam-launch that had brought me should be left as a remembrance of my visit to him.

One may imagine how glad I was to leave the palace where, the day before, I had seen little slaves weeping into gold cups, where the tears were preserved for bathing the cheeks of the Princess, with the idea that it would bring back the natural colour. At the last moment Ismaël called me to him, and embraced me several times saying - 
"You will come again to Egypt, will you not, to see me and my daughter, Princess Fatma. She is very delicate, and this warm sun is necessary for her."
In truth, this poor princess had that strange beauty which is not uncommon amongst those who die young. She was always dressed in long dresses of some rare delicate stuff of a dazzling white, and her short, Venetian-red hair made the delicacy and paleness of her neck and face the more remarkable. Her almond-shaped eyes seemed weary and half-veiled with the immensely long eye-lashes
All the great ladies that were admitted to her presence left very much impressed with her unusual and mysterious beauty.
She died soon afterwards, and two days after her death, as is the custom, were given up to the lamentations of the crying women, who remained in a room close at hand, where all the women of the harem came and cried in their turn.
Her slaves were dowered and married off according to their rank; for rich Turks always give devoted slaves their freedom by marriage, and dower them sufficiently to live comfortably afterwards. That is why Circassian girls who know this custom prefer to be sold at Stamboul than to live in Circassia, where no such good fortune could happen to them. They beg their fathers or brothers to sell them, and this slavery will always exist as long as there are rich men in Turkey; and the most anxious to keep up this custom are the slaves themselves, who prefer to tempt the fortune of the unknown, to live in privation and rough labour in their own country. If the girl is beautiful she becomes a success, and if ugly, a slave in a more ordinary harem, where she is seldom ill-treated. The slow indifference of the Turkish nature makes service easy, and the master looks carefully after the health of his slaves. The mutual feeling of live and let live is a prevailing one in harems; the women are fond of the master, and value the legitimacy of the children.
In all harems there is a great deal of politeness and complimentary speeches amongst the women. There are no jealousies, and rarely quarrels, but seldom great friendships. Each of the ladies is anxious to impress the others with the fact that she has been well educated, and most succeed in cultivating a certain charm of manner, which helps to make the interior life of Islamite homes agreeable and pleasant. The children are respectful to their parents, and never speak to them unless they are first spoken to. When the "Mademoiselle" or "Miss" try to break through the custom, they seldom succeed in their work of so-called civilisation.
When I was fifteen years old, if I went out I was always dressed as a European, and considered as being of English birth. When a Turk marries a Christian, she is nearly always free to go out as she likes, and do as did the wives of Nedjib Pasha and Suavi Pasha, who when paying visits to Europeans, always dressed as French-women, or paying visits to Turkish ladies, were clothed like Eastern women.
My somewhat precocious intelligence made every one kind to, and confidential with, me. They knew at heart I was Islamite, if not by birth, and the certainty that on reaching the age of twenty-one I should embrace their religion made me sympathetic to them. They loved me for a sort of charm which they expressed by the word "Chirinelik', and if any little differences arose, they always said, "Go, my lamb, and settle that business; you have a way with you which no one can resist."
At the house of Hussein Avni (the Minister of War) I was treated always as a daughter of the family, and I was the only one who was able to obtain permission from him for a dress from Paris for his child.
At my first arrival the wife of the Minister said to me: "Go and find the Pasha, for my daughter's heart is aching for a dress from Madame Soinard, and you know he is very severe, and does not like French dresses. Go, my little lioness, and try to get leave from him, and I will make you a present of a beautifully embroidered handkerchief."
I immediately entered his office, where there was a perpetual coming and going of aides-de-camp, and where, notwithstanding his serious occupations, he received me in an affectionate and paternal manner.
"Ah! Ela Hanem," he said, "I see clearly that my wife wants something, for when I was in the harem she did nothing but tell me of the things she and our daughter wanted; and now she makes you follow me to the office. It is unreasonable. I am the poorest of all the Ministers; I don't know how to steal money from my country. Tell the women that I have none."
Alas! this was only too true, but like all Turks, he had a great devotion to his children, and could refuse nothing to his daughter.
She (rather maliciously, when he would not immediately gratify her wish) always ran away, and would not let him kiss her, which spoilt he whole day for the poor father.
Hussein Avni was the bravest, cleverest and best of the generals, and the Sultan Abdul Aziz, in his heart of hearts knew it, and if he sometimes placed the general in disgrace, he soon recalled him. He was a fine soldier, of which he had given proofs on many occasions. His advice was generally considered the best, and nearly always followed in military counsels. Charming to those he loved, his generosity was greater than his means; remarkably intelligent, he spoke French like a native, a talent he generally himself ignored. His bravery was well known, and he had quelled many a revolt by the seduction of his speech and his persuasiveness and conciliatory manner to his enemies.
His harem was on very simple lines; even his women were seldom dressed in silk, and went out very little, and the old-fashioned Mussulman austerity was practised in his household. No governess had ever been allowed to bring trouble there, and two of his children (who were from the age of seven brought up for entering a religious order) and Hairiee Hanem were educated à la turque.
Two things amongst others were remarkable in that house: one was his beautiful collection of arms, and the other, he correct behaviour of his aides-de-camp, whom he chose and formed with much care. One of them, by name Hassan, a Circassian, became the type of extreme military elegance; on him the Minister showered kindnesses and treated as his own son.
But, Hassan, whose distinguished and martial appearance had attracted the attention of the Sultan, was appointed in attendance on His Imperial Higness Youssouf Izzedin, the eldest son of His Majesy. His appointment was much regretted by Hussein Avni, who had considered him as devoted entirely to himself.
It was when she was about sixteen that Hairiee Hanem, the daughter of the Minister of War, was suddenly seized with a passion for dress. The visits that she paid or received made her discontented and envious of the jewels, dresses and luxury of her friends, and in the evening when her father came, worn out and harassed with the insurmountable difficulties in raising the money necessary for the wants of the army, he would find Hairiee fretful and disinclined for the paternal embrace.
He adored his child, and would have committed a crime to save her from tears; so he generally finished in giving in to her caprices.
The Minister was a thorough patriot, honest and loyal, and without debt was the only one who had not enriched himself at the expense of the state. These desires of his daughter astonished him, but he had not the time to try and understand them, occupied as he was entirely with his work. Summoned perpetually before the Sultan, he was on his feet from four o'clock in the morning, and the anguish of seeing everything going wrong by the fault of his master the Sultan, whose phenomenal expenses plunged the Empire in difficulties, made his existence almost insupportable.
He tried by every means to respectfully explain to the Sultan how the army was situated - that army of which he might indeed be proud, with its sublime devotion and great moral and physical force.
Occasionally Abdul Aziz would pull himself up, but like the great child that he was, would soon fall again in the same hopeless fashion.
Little by little the Minister gave up the idea of telling the Sultan how things were; and by degrees a group of students formed themselves into a band of malcontents, and one day organised a manifestation in front of the palace.
The Sultan sent them money, and the manifestation passed off. This affair ought to have awakened the attention of His Majesty, for he was already sufficiently astonished that the students had the audacity to assemble at his very gates; but what was fated was bound to come to pass.

Monday, 1 December 2014

Romance of a Harem

Chapter VI

For a whole week the palace of Keurfesse resounded with cries, tears and oaths of vengeance from the women of the harem. They found themselves very uncomfortable, for the place was only furnished after the Turkish ideas, and they much missed all the luxury of Choubra.

Accustomed as they were to soft rich carpets, here the floors were covered with matting the colour of ripe wheat, and the sofas miserably furnished in faded cretonnes, and thin white curtains to the windows. Their teeth chattered with cold, and they rolled themselves up in woollen coverings, walking up and down the large corridors to try to keep warm. Also they suffered a good deal from the change of climate.

The eunuchs superintended the installation with a sad air, employing Armenian servants. They, being new, offered at least some slight distraction to the women, who amused themselves watching them.

These servants are generally fine men, and in rich households are magnificently dressed in embroidered garments, with beautiful cashmere shawls round their waists. Round their necks, which are bare, are massive silver chains, to which are attached watches in several tortoise-shell cases. It is a fine sight to see them enter the harem with large dishes on their heads, with high metal coverings, and a purple silk cloth thrown over the whole. As they walk in in single file, they have the appearance of gigantic poppies.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The Prince had in his service the inevitable Miss, who taught French and English to the children and those of the slaves who merited this distinction. I was one of these, and Miss B- owned that I was intelligent, but intractable. Nevertheless I profited considerably from her lessons.

I was never far from the Prince, and from the first moment attached myself to his footsteps, always ready to hand him cigarettes, and offering to run on commissions for him. If I were absent long, he invariably sent for me, making me sit beside him on the sofa, and taking my face between his hands he would kiss me and wind my long yellow hair round his neck.
"Where have you been, my child?" he would say gently. "Some day some brigand will steal you when you go through the bazaars and are out of sight of the slaves."
"Never," I answered, "for everyone knows me and loves me, and they like me to please you, for they know that later I shall be your wife, and you will be King of Egypt."
He smiled gently and patted my head with his slender fingers, whilst I could not take my eyes off him - the eyes already of a woman who loves.

Nevertheless that insatiable desire for wandering was strong in me, and, followed at a distance by a slave, I visited the harems of all the great personages; and having a reputation for being amusing and pleasant, I was welcomed everywhere. Sometimes I danced for the poor boatmen, and on leaving them, I would enter the harem of Cheik ul Islam, and pray with the fanatical old ladies who read the Koran without understanding it. During the Ramazan I would break the fast, sometimes with an aide-de-camp of His Majesty, sometimes with the wife of a poverty-stricken fisherman. Or I followed the funeral of a Greek who was being carried to the grave with an uncovered face; or guided by Cocona Elenco, I would go with her and drink the water of a sacred spring of the Blessed Virgin. On entering the palace I would glide into the priest's chamber and await the hour for the summoning of prayer. How beautiful he was, that singing priest, with his Indian muslin turban, white as the snow in the mountains! He was an Arab from Hedjaz, of pure race, and on seeing him pass, the women looking at him through the gratings would become pale with emotion. When, wrapped in his white linen cloak and wearing a black caftan, he walked along the front of the palace chanting "Allah u Ekber," and calling the faithful to prayer, there was an absolute silence; for Mussulmen and Christians alike were moved by that voice, for its sweetness and caressing charm surpassed all other music. The Prince himself would forget his dreamings and listen with delight, and would say to those near him, "Ah! if the celebrated Patti had heard Mollah Izzedin, she would understand what a human voice really was, and would never sing another note herself."

Being on terms of great intimacy with the Minister of War and his harem, I came back one day with the present of a small carbine, and I asked the Prince that I might be taught how to use it. He sent me up to the top of a neighbouring hill, under the charge of an aïvasse and two eunuchs. There I found Demir Aga Couroudje, the agent of the property, sitting on a carpet. Demir Aga was a hero who had been in many engagements, having originally been a leader of a band of brigands, and bore in his body several bullets, and many a wound on his face. Demir Aga had very magnificent manners, and was fond of recounting interminable stories of his father's doings, who had been a Greek by birth. He himself had become a Mussulman in his youth, and the only custom he had retained of a Greek brigand was the relieving of passers-by of their purses. But since he had entered the service of the Prince, he contented himself with guarding the property instead of attacking.

To reach him we were obliged to follow a long path edged with cypresses, and the eunuchs became much alarmed.
"Ela Hanem, our lamb," they said trembling, "what will become of us if this brigand should become angry?"
"I have no fear, my lions," I answered, "you will see he will receive us well."
As a point of fact with a certain dignity he told the eunuchs to tell the Prince that he would carefully watch over the child. "On my head, I will be answerable for her," he added.

Nevertheless they were ill at ease, and hurried back down the hill, having made him innumerable profound bows.
"My child," said the old hero, fixing me with his eagle eye, "you have beautiful golden hair, and velvety eyes."

 I sat down close to him on the carpet, on which were laid out symmetrically, on his right, his pipe, his arms and various necessaries, whilst on his left on the turf were his shoes. A magnificent umbrella pine shadowed us, and all round us were still larger trees, which somewhat softened the rays of the sun.

The Bosphorus lay stretched out at the foot of the hill, and I watched the old man, who recounted to me a long story, to which I fear I did not listen much. He passed his hand over his eyes, murmuring "Machallah"; and evening came slowly, covering the ground with its long shadows, and the grey wings of the little bats fluttered in the mystery and silence of the growing night.

The old man had a tender heart, and seeing that I was saddened, he spread a napkin over my knees, and opening a covered dish, he took a dolma and put it in my mouth, and then with little bits of bread gently wiped the oil from the corners of my lips, saying: "You see how you please my soul since I gave you becquee with my own hand. Don't cry, little one, do as the birds do over our heads, cover yourself and sleep."

He combed my hair with a six-toothed comb, and then wrapping me up in a sheep-skin laid me down on the carpet. But the stars which sparkled in the sky seemed so extraordinarily brilliant that night, that I pointed them out to the brigand. He seemed indifferent, and only answered, "My lamb, it is time to sleep." He sat near me and began singing to send me to sleep. His song was on five notes only, and was in praise of his own brilliant fighting. He had arrived at the point of describing the tenth head he had cut off, when I said to him, "My father, I am asleep."

When the sun was up, I awoke and found before me, laid out on a fig leaf, a cake and three black olives, which I ate.
Then the cleansing operations took some time. First of all the carpet had to be thoroughly brushed, the stockings were washed, and the night-coverings shaken out and rolled round a piece of wood, and feet, hands, ears and nostrils, all washed whilst muttering religious sentences.

The rest of the day was spent in doing nothing and sitting still without moving. Why, indeed, agitate oneself when one has nothing to say or do. That is what is called kief.
Like the preceding night, I had to listen to the song about the heads that were cut off, one of which it seems began to move its eyes after decapitation, which offended the Aga - it was the head of a Greek - whereupon the Aga told it that if it continued to open and shut its eyes, he would cut out its tongue, and this threat had the effect of making the eyes close once and for all.

The next day I said softly to the Aga, "Sir brigand, I am beginning to be bored, please conduct me back to the Palace."
So I walked down the hill followed by the Aga, who had put on his most magnificent clothes and made a very fine appearance. On leaving him he called down on me Allah's blessing, and I kissed his hand, as is the custom to do when with those who teach you.

Sunday, 3 August 2014

Romance of a Harem

Chapter V



The Prince had decided that the fête given in honour of the Khedive should take place in the division of the palace where the Vice-Queen Dowager, his mother, lived.
The widow of Méhémet Ali was still imposing and beautiful, and had the grand air of an autocratic sovereign, and Ismaël never felt quite at his ease in her presence. She was widow of the chief of the dynasty, and blamed the Khedive openly for his tyranny towards the fellahs, and warned him repeatedly of the inevitable difficulties which the disorder of his government would bring.

The day before the fête, the first lady of the household, who always arranged the functions, summoned the treasure-keepers, those who brought coffee, and chibouk-bearers, the singers and musicians and waiting-servants, and the role of each group was carefully made out according to custom. The eunuchs (important personages - for they are the sole intermediaries between the harems and outside life) walked watchfully about the apartments. They looked on at all these preparations, smiling and making fun of the airs and graces of the women. The chief of them, Billal Agha, looked carefully after the jewels, and was much exercised in his mind as to whether he ought to receive the Vice-Queen on the second or third step of the grand staircase. The fear of possible exile for his Prince inspired a new humility in this proud man. The chief eunuch of the Imperial Palace has a rank equivalent to that of a grand vizier, and all ministers are doubtful and a little afraid of his intrigues. In forty or fifty years they will no longer fear them, as there will be no more eunuchs, not even in the Sultan's court, for it is a luxury which is already beginning to pass away.

The women, ready for the part they are to play, group themselves in the apartment of the Queen Dowager. The musicians tune their instruments, whilst the leader of the orchestra, a beautiful Circassian woman aged twenty-five, tells them the names of the pieces that are to be played. The musical memory amongst Turkish women is remarkable, and they can easily reproduce any piece they have heard three or four times; but an European professor, who would teach them according to his methods, would never succeed in making anything of them, and they are best left to their primitive methods and to their natural gift. The chibouk-bearers fill the pipes with amber mouth-pieces, covered with jewels. Those that are studded with big rubies are to be presented to the Viceroy and Vice-Queens, and those with diamonds to the Princes and Princesses of the second rank.

The salvers on which were carried the long chibouks were of marvellous beauty. On each awas a representation of a garden; in the centre stood a palm-tree, round which twined a snake in emeralds and diamonds, the dates on the palm being rubies, and at the base of the palm there glittered a stream of diamonds. Amongst the treasures of the Prince there were twelve of these dishes.

Already the chibouk-bearers, according to their rank, followed each other, preceded by a eunuch who made a way through the crowd of slaves. The coffee-bearers arranged their silk cloths embroidered with pearls and gold and diamond dust, and their gold trays thickly studded with sapphires. Each cup placed on one of these trays must be carried a distance of at least thirty paces without spilling a drop.

The dancers bent themselves backwards as low as possible, giving their whole bodies a little tremulous movement. All the jewels of the treasury were scattered over them, and they looked like living flowers.

The singing women were silent, with the idea of strengthening their contralto voices. They were dressed in pure white, shot with silver thread, and on their bare necks wore strings of fine pearls. Over their hair they had white tarlatan veils embroidered with jasmine.

One by one the great silver palm-trees were lit up, and at the base of the white marble columns one could see the pious slaves at prayer on their orange velvet carpets. The immense fountain gave a gentle murmur with the water that flowed into it from mouths of marble lions and strings of amber chained silver goblets to the jaws of the lions, where young slaves came and drank furtively, looking with large eyes at their own reflection in the fountain. A long day passed in the bath having given a new freshness to their satin skins; and their eyes, carefully enlarged with rastec and sarmé, sparkled with extraordinary brightness. The fear of making some slight error in presenting the coffee to the princes, made them tremble slightly.

Suddenly a eunuch passed close to them crying "Destour!" "Destour!" ("attention"), and then twenty or thirty eunuchs followed running and uttering the same cry, and the slaves drew themselves up in line, with their arms crossed on their breasts.

The sais, the runners of the Vice-Queens, stopped abruptly at the foot of the grand staircase, their resin torches covering the façade of the palace with a purple glow. One heard the noise of their heavy breathing, and one of them, with his mouth open, with mad eyes and convulsed face, fell fainting; he was quickly carried away, and a stain of blood was on the floor.

Crushed with the weight of their jewels, the Vice-Queens, supported by the eunuchs, made their entry into the Salle des Fêtes. The first twelve women were wearing the finest jewels of the treasury, and wore high white satin boots, each button of which was a large single diamond - a detail when being later reported to the Sultan, he decided to increase the taxation he had already imposed on the Viceroy of Egypt.

Ismaël escorted by the princes then came, and the women's orchestra received him with a beautifully played piece, followed by the songs of the Arab and Turkish singers.

Dinner was announced by twenty-four young women with gold-embroidered napkins on their arms, and served French fashion. On the table were massive gold centre-pieces set with jewels, and the slaves, with their long hair down their backs and bare shoulders served the feast.

Prince Halim, who was decidedly a gourmet, had a famous French chef called Bernard, who on this occasion surpassed himself. Everything was perfectly carried out, and dinner was prolonged slightly beyond the limits prescribed by etiquette.

The illuminations in the gardens of Choubra for a short time amused the Khedive, who showed considerable impatience to see a young Circassian dancing-girl called Cehere, whom it was said Prince Halim had recently bought.

She was to dance for the first time, and though she was not exactly pretty she had a great charm about her. She had many hopes of pleasing the Khedive, and thought that if this were so, her master would offer her as a present to Ismaël. She entered the Salle du Divan in charge of a eunuch, who pointed out to her the Khedive, the princes and princesses who were in the centre of a brilliant circle. She stood still, apparently both agitated and nervous for a moment, and everyone looked at her with considerable curiosity, her breast rising and falling tumultuously, making the sequins and jewels with which she was covered sparkle in the light. Suddenly her eyes lit up, and shaking her shoulders, she advanced with the undulating movement of a snake to the very feet of the Khedive, and throwing her body backwards with wonderful grace, she inundated the carpet with her beautiful hair, which floated out and sank round her like a shadow.

Ismaël let fall the ashes of his cigar into the silver cup, and looking fixedly at the dancer, said to her, "Afferim kez" ("brave girl"), which surprised everyone.

She raised herself slowly and danced gradually further away with wonderful undulations, sometimes letting her head rest on her shoulder, and with gestures that seemed to say "Come - follow me!"

Suddenly she stopped, and with a quick movement of her castanets, she fled with all the lightness of a gazelle. In an instant she was back again, dancing feverishly with an ever increasing movement, which had a great effect on hhea onlooking princes, who all, as a sign of admiration, drew their fezes lower over their eyes.

But what was fated was bound to happen, and the truth is that Cehere - who was exerting herself to her best that she might be given as a present to the Khedive - was, at the same time, examining her master, Prince Halim, with curiosity, whom till this moment she had never seen; and, with the real Circassian temperament, she instantly changed her mind, and was quite convinced that she had fallen madly in love with him. These sudden passions, which are not uncommon amongst Turkish women, often change their ambitious dreams into quite modest realities. It was otherwise with Cehere, who was unable to realise her passionate caprice, for she had captivated the Khedive, and the Prince begged him to accept her; and being hastily covered with a blue silk haick, was taken off to the Khedive's palace.

The dancer thus given over to the service of the Khedive, took from the moment of her entry into the harem her turn of night duty. But she swore to herself that she would resist as much as possible this man whom she did not love, little thinking that unconsciously she was deciding the exile of the Prince for whom she had conceived so great a passion.

To the first questions put to her by Ismaël, who was inspired by a great fancy for her, she answered that she could never love any other man than Prince Halim.

This annoyed the Khedive, and this jealousy, added to a good many former ones, resulted in a thousand vexatious acts against the Prince, to which one day he answered by a letter which has since become famous.

The next day he was forced to quit Choubra and become an exile, leaving behind him his mother, his children, and their mothers, and a legitimate wife to whom he was devoted.

Ismaël behaved infamously to those poor women, who in their misery only wished to die. He gave orders that the bare necessaries of life should be denied them. The mother of the Prince died, killed more by sorrow than privations, and before death prophesied the future exile of the persecutor of her son.

On disembarking at Constantinople the Prince installed himself in a house at Stamboul, which house, thanks to the persistent anger of the Khedive, took fire. But the Prince and his suite escaped this third generous attempt of Ismaël. They were then obliged to seek a palace big enough to lodge the Egyptian Prince, and that of Keurfesse was chosen.

The impossibility of ruining the Prince made the Khedive a little more reasonable, and by degrees things arranged themselves in Egypt. A soi-disant polish Prince, a spy in the pay of Ismaël, attached to the person of Prince Halim, persuaded him that it were better to renounce all idea of returning to. Cairo, and to accept an income of sixty thousand pounds a year which Egypt agreed to pay.

The loss of his Choubra property was the most cruel blow to the Prince, and he hesitated for a long time in accepting the proposition. At last the Khedive had the pleasure of seeing the affair terminate in the way he wished, and he presented the Pole with one hundred and twenty thousand pounds as backseesh.

A crowd of slaves and mamelukes therefore left Choubra, some of them joining their master in his palace in Stamboul, and others going to establish themselves in a palace in Cairo, inhabited by a divorced wife of the Prince, but for whom he still kept up an establishment.

When the royal yacht which brought the eldest daughter of the Prince, followed by all those who had the happiness to share the exile of their master, dropped anchor in the little gulf, the band on board played the Egyptian March, which brought tears to the eyes of the master and the slaves.

The unhappy Princess, whose beauty, elegance, and generosity were proverbial throughout Egypt, notwithstanding her great pride, could not play the part of a sovereign on leaving the ship, and cried like the humblest fellahine.

This disembarkation of the entire harem and the immense cases containing the clothes and treasures was a curious sight; it lasted three days.

Thursday, 17 July 2014

Romance of a Harem

Chapter IV

"What does Your Highness think of doing with his conquest from the bitter waves?" asked an old French gentleman, with the manners and appearance of a grand seigneur.
"You know what are my plans," answered the Prince. "The Armenians who found the child believe her to be English, and I shall leave her absolutely free till she is twenty-one. At that time, she shall choose for herself her manner of life and religion. Till then she will be in the harem, whence she can go out at her pleasure. I wish her to be free, strong, vigorous and independent."
"It is exile that gives you such republican ideas, Monseigneur," said the old Frenchman, smiling. 

The Prince looked towards the Bosphorus, and shaking the ashes of his cigar into a silver cup placed by him on the sofa, said simply, "I hope to survive the pain of leaving Egypt and Choubra."

His cruel exile had already lasted six months, and suddenly losing all hope of its ceasing, the Prince was trying to create for himself a new existence. When he received at Cairo the imperative order or obey. He was the youngest son of Méhémet Ali, and the better part of Egypt belonged to him. His name was synonymous for power and grandeur; the charm of his conversation, his loved sciences, of art and letters, which he protected as a generous Prince, had made him celebrated.

All illustrious men passing through Egypt begged the honour of being received at Choubra, and left enthusiastic with his reception of them. Prince Halim was the type of the purest Bedouin race, with the perfect distinction of the oriental grand seigneur. His splendid eyes of striking beauty, his finely-cut nose with slender nostrils, his white teeth and brown moustache, his small arched foot, always booted by the best of London makers, made him a type of rare grace and elegance.

He spent royally his immense income, and Choubra being in the very heart of Egypt, the Viceroy Ismaël soon became uneasy of his being so near. Matters between the Prince and the Viceroy quickly became more than strained. Up till now Halim had always miraculously escaped the famous attempts against princely heirs.

From a bridge broken in advance by the orders of the Khedive, the train which was bringing all the princes invited to a Khedivial fête was hurled into the Nile. Not only did Halim save himself, but also seized from the jaws of death his favourite mameluke.

The Viceroy oppressed with taxes the people of the Prince, and he, wishing to make one last conciliatory effort towards his nephew Ismaël, offered him a fête at Choubra. It must be explained that the throne returning to the eldest of the princes of the Royal Family, Halim Pasha could only reign after the death of his nephew Ismaël and of Prince Mustapha Fazil. This latter did not survive his exile.

At this fête at Choubra all the princes were invited with their harems. The most beautiful women of the kingdom found themselves together that evening.

The harem of Prince Halim was composed of five hundred women, all living in the palace.

There was the division of the Queen Dowager, the wife of the founder of the dynasty of Méhémet Ali, the division of the princesses, and that of each child of sufficient age to have a household.

These immense apartments were entirely distinct, each having their own slaves, eunuchs, baths, and carriages, making several houses in the same palace. The sitting-rooms were so vast that sometimes newly bought little slaves lost their way and fell asleep in tears at the feet of immense silver candelabra, shaped like palms and arranged in avenues.

The princesses called on each other ceremoniously once or twice a month, being formally announced with rigid etiquette. The ladies of the palace had very formal ideas and magnificent manners, and rarely any close intimacy was known to exist between the various divisions.

The following will give some idea of how the Prince lived at Choubra in the midst of his feminine world. 

As to the princesses, the Prince visited them in their own apartments - and the women who have attained the rank of odalisques are on duty about his person in turn. Twelve of them do day duty for a week at a time, and these are then replaced by twelve more. Night duty is performed in the same way, but by one only for a week, who sleeps each night on a satin mattress across the doorway giving on the room of the Prince. What is peculiar is, that sometimes this guard is kept by some slave who is not popular with the Prince, but each one who has been bought for this service has the right of eight days' guard, and the master submits to this order of things. The week of duty of each of these ladies is arranged with regard to their state of health. They take their baths regularly, and four or five hours is not considered too long for beautifying purposes.

When one of them becomes a mother, she does not appear for a whole year before the Prince after the birth of the child. If she gives birth to a boy, she takes the title of Oumil Bey, or should it be a daughter, she is called ever afterwards Ouma Hariem. And the new state in the household arouses no hated or jealousy, all the children being legitimate. The same customs are observed in the palaces of the Sultan and Imperial Princes. 



Tuesday, 8 July 2014

Romance of a Harem

Chapter III

But the day came when I resolutely escaped, and I returned no more to sing on the tables of the Greek wine-shops. I left those simple-minded men, with their hands rough from the ropes, with their curly hair on their fine heads, who deprived themselves of necessities to increase my childish amusements - I said to them quite simply, "Adieu, mes amis." And that was all. I went to find Hussein the boatman, and told him it was my heart's desire to go in his boat near the villa of the Egyptian Prince, and Hussein, who could refuse me nothing, took me.

The Prince and his suite were at that moment preparing to start in their six-oared boats as our caíq entered the little gulf of Keurfesse. Hussein passed respectfully at some distance, but I, quickly tearing off my dress, tied a large gaily-coloured cloth round me and jumped into the sea. I could swim like a flying fish, and whilst cleaving the water, I promised a thousand presents to poor horror-stricken Hussein. "If the Prince adopts me, you shall be my first boatman," I cried to him.

I kept on swimming, my heart beating violently in my breast, frozen by the cold. The Prince and his suite watched with curiosity this child that approached them, and he asked me gently if I were not tired.
"No, since I see you, son of the King," I answered, blushing like a fine sunset.
"Help the child out of the water, and bring her to me," ordered the Prince, who then turned, and quickly entered the courtyard of the palace.

Monday, 26 May 2014

Romance of a Harem

Chapter II

Having said thus, I will begin the true story of my life and adventures in the harem. I write English so badly that you must attribute the responsibility to a Miss, who flirted with the eunuchs young and old. She filled them with admiration with a series oh high kicks to initiate them into the mysteries of the cancan.

Under the magnificent sway of Sultan Abdul Aziz in the year 1864, there came into the outskirts of the village of Stenia a little girl of four or five years old, led by a poverty-stricken old woman, who, going up to a boatman who was mending his caïq, proposed that he should look after the child whilst she entered the village to buy bread.

"You should give back the child to those you have stolen it from," said the boatman. "I shall take you to the Kadi if you do not at once tell me where you stole it."

"I swear to you I found this English girl on the road," said the woman stolidly, and she turned and, leaving the child, walked into the village.

"Machallah!" said the boatman, looking at the girl, "the rays of the sun are in your hair, and the velvet of Damascus in your eyes."

In a little while, as the woman did not return, Hussein the boatman ejaculated once more "Machallah!" and taking the little girl by the hand he led her to the village.

The child was dressed in a shabby garment of yellow silk trimmed with sable fur; on her head a gauze fichu embroidered with silk flowers, and on her feet little shoes with rose-coloured pompons.

"I am hungry," she said to Hussein.

He immediately bought her a cake, which she ate with avidity.

"You are an English girl, are you not, my lamb?" he asked.

The child said "Yes," and then "No."

Hussein had the idea that everything that was very fair and pink and white must have English blood in its veins, so thought the answer was "Yes."

With the delicacy innate amongst the Islamites he would not take the child into a Mussulman household; so he knocked at the door of a Christian, by name Cocona Elenco.

Like the greater part of the Greeks of Constantinople she was a gossip and liar; so had no hesitation in calling all the saints of her religion ( and Allah knows how many Greek ones ) to witness how great a marvel was the child.

"Ah! Kaïmeni, Kaïmeni," she repeated, "may the Blessed Virgin protect her! That beggar-woman has gone by - she will never come back."

And then, as nothing tends so much to solidify Greek friendship as little thefts, she took the gold thread embroidered handkerchief that was in the child's sash, and advised Hussein to take that lamb of God to some other roof than hers.

Hussein then led the child to the cottage of Doudou Artine, an Armenian woman, who lived by the sea. She received the girl with a smile, saying that they were already a large family, but would keep her. She offered her bread and olives, which the child ate with much appetite.

The cottage which Doudou and her girls inhabited was face to face with a mill belonging to a Frenchman, by name Pigeon, an extremely vulgar man but a good sort.

The Greek captains with black beards and fiery eyes brought the wheat for the mill, and girls used to glide languorously in front of the cottage, with their white veils folded back like the wings of tired birds.

It gave the virtuous daughters of Doudou a great deal of pleasure to watch the Greek captains, which was quite contrary to the projects of their mother. She held the Greek race in abhorrence, and in default of Armenians she would have preferred to see them marry Mussulmen. For Armenians and Turks, though differing in religion, have the same patriarchal tastes; and the father of a Turkish family, like that of an Armenian, is a model of devotion and goodness for his children. He likes a peaceful life, and is faithful to his creed, does not drink or gamble, and only finds pleasure amongst his own family.

From all times the Turks, recognising the quality of the Armenians, have given them posts of confidence. The best jewellers and agents are nearly always Armenians. Certain intriguers, members of the higher Armenian clergy, work hard to raise troubles in Armenia. It is said that they are paid by an European nation, but it is doubtful whether these adventurers, will succeed in their endeavours.

Doudou Artine, like the greater part of Armenian women, was of austere morals, for she had respect for fine traditions, and lived in the fear of evil, like the Mussulmen her neighbours.

Amongst these honest surroundings the little girl grew up, without their being able to conquer her wandering instincts. Doudou was very poor, and worked hard to keep her house together, whilst her daughters embroidered brilliant flowers on muslin handkerchiefs called Yemeni, which they sold for a livelihood.

But the child could never keep still long. She wandered into the streets where the Greek sailors drank raki. She jumped on the tables in front of wine shops - she sang- she danced - she kissed her hands to the rough sailors. She harangued them with pretty gestures, crying to them, "Ah, my fine captains with black beards and fiery eyes, what have you brought me back from your voyages?"

And the sailors, with their thick hair and strong necks and bright-coloured shirts, we're delighted and laughed back, "My soul - my pretty little girl, here is what we have brought back from Odessa; we have not been further, come take them, they are for you," and they showered gilded sweetmeats on her, which were said to come from Paris. The child happy, and with sparking eyes, accepted all as an offering that was due to her. She also had a very business-like friendship with a non-commissioned officer and the soldiers of the Ottoman Guard. She tyrannised over these brave soldiers, and her tyranny made itself heavily felt on their purse, for they received their pay very irregularly - but when the payment had been made a certain instinct seemed to warn her, and she claimed immediately her imperious desires. She wanted mahalebi or friandises, and the simple soldier paid for the caprices of this little pillaging soul. In the month of Ramazan she used to glide like an adder into the little low room where the humble iftar was laid out, the hors-dœuvre with which the fast was broken. At the first sound of the cannon which announced that the sun was set and the fast over for the day, she swallowed everything, and the slices of pasterma disappeared down her young greedy throat. The rough soldier, who could have easily crushed her like a fly between his strong fingers, looked at her with big stupid eyes and said, "Machallah," ("Glory to God").

On days when she was good, the child, who was now definitely called Ela, helped Artine Effendi to split open freshly-caught fish and spread them out in the sun, with a laurel leaf carefully placed under each. 

When night came she slept on the floor on a mattress beside Doudou, who kept her warm and promised her cabbage and rice on the morrow. But these marrows became rare, and she thought more and more of escaping to a neighbouring village where an Egyptian Prince, whom they said was rich and beautiful like the Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid, had settled for the winter.

This indomitable child - this capricious Ela, was the author of this true story. Many years have passed since these rememberances of childhood, but I still see clearly those village streets, those little cabarets where the Greek sailors used to quarrel - the house of poor Doudou whom in my unconscious cruelty I martyrised by my caprices and ingratitude.

Weary of living in such poverty, I left one day with Cocona Elenco, who was going to sell scents in the harems of the grand vizier Fuad Pasha. The grandson of the Pasha noticed my pretty face, where sparkled eyes with a brightness surprising for my age. He brought me before the vizier, whom my gestures and manner much amused, and he promised that the family which had adopted me should be looked after; but I spoilt it all by saying to him, "Why do you have so ugly and old a wife? You would do better to marry me." That made every one laugh; and the son of the house, who spoke French fluently, said, "Cette petite ira loin, j'en donne ma parole!"
That was only a first incident without any consequences. Very soon I succeeded in penetrating, thanks to Cocona, into the harem of K...... Bey, who presented ambassadors. I created some little sensation, and they resolved to keep me as a playmate for the children of His Excellency. At the end of the week the eldest son of the Pasha took a fancy to me, and they sent me back to Doudou. I returned with my eyes full of tears and my arms filled with dresses given me by F...... Hanem, the eldest daughter of the Bey, a charming woman, who also was smitten with a desire to taste the education and life of Europeans. She went to pass a winter in Paris with a lady of the highest Parisian society, and returned with joy to the harem, much disillusioned on the subject of progress.

Doudou with deep sighs took me in her arms, and lifting her eyes to heaven said, "Lamb of God! you must have Circassian blood in your veins to wish so much to be sold." And I - I kissed her hands, begging her to sell me to the Palace, crying, "You will see, Doudou, I shall be Sultana, and you will be able to hang big emeralds in your ears and wear sables."

I did not then understand how much the poor Doudou loved me. I saw nothing of the beauty of the soul of those people, so honest, so good, who never lied or had an evil though, and lived with peace amongst them.



Monday, 28 April 2014

Romance of a Harem

I found this book at the back of a book shop. I fell in love with the story. I can't find it anywhere. I can't let the world lose this story.

"Romance of a Harem

Translated by Clarence Forestier-Walker 
Greening & Co., Ltd., London
20 Cecil Court, Charing Cross
1904

Preface to Second Edition

In answer to innumerable letters from known and unknown correspondence, as to how much of "The Romance of a Harem" is true; it has been thought advisable by the publishers (Messrs Greening) that in the issue of this, the second  edition, I should acknowledge that it is an absolutely true story.

The authoress's father (when the writer was a small child) was sent by the French Government on a mission to the Sultan, who received him and his family on terms of the greatest intimacy, and who had a profound respect for the distinguished French gentleman.

It was with her father and mother that the authoress learnt the Turkish language, and visited during her youth, before marriage, all the leading Turkish families, and thus gained what is so rare among Europeans, an intimate knowledge of the little-known private life of great harems.

This true story, as given to the public, was known and approved of by the children of Prince Halim, who plays so large a part in the romance.

It was on reading this story, and its successor, "La Courtisane de la Montagne," * in the original! that His Majesty, the present Sultan, issued an irade, forbidding the employment of European governesses in Turkish harems.
Clarence Forestier-Walker

* English Edition entitled "The Woman of the Hill."

Romance of a Harem


Chapter I

For many a long year I lived in a harem, and of that time I have the sweetest remembrances. Comparisons that I have been able to make since the chances of fortune led me to share the life of European women, only strengthen the tender melancholy of those souvenirs.
The natural sentiments of women - affection, devotion, and the decency of life - become strongly developed in the warm and favourable atmosphere of a harem. What a peaceful charm! What a profound calm there is in those vast rooms half-filled with shadow!
Sitting on her cushions, with her bare feet crossed beneath her, she sees through the carved grating the boats that glide past on the Bosphorus. She slowly smokes a scented cigarette, and sips languidly her coffee from a tiny cup.
On her white brow, which no care wrinkles, the beautiful Circassian arranges her sequins, and sings to herself in a minor key; she thinks only how to preserve her beauty, and rests after the complicated soins of the bath, and slowly tastes the joy of pleasing; she plays with the children, and to amuse herself has a thousand puerile incidents which fill the hours. I have known all that; but if I grew up in the peace of the harem, loved and respected, I also have seen only too closely the dramas of oriental politics and peaceful existence of the sultanas and odalisques upset by the so-called progress of European morals. The death of the last of the real great Mussulmen - the man to whom I owed the most profound respect, has delivered me from the promise I gave that I would never write for publication during his life-time, and I shall be glad if I can show how false are many of the ideas of life in a harem.

Nearly always the repose and dignity of the harem is broken by the English or French governess, whom it is the fashion to employ to initiate the young Turkish girls into the beauties of European education. Happily the influence of the Miss or Madame or Mademoiselle is of an ephemeral duration. These governesses shock the oriental women who have regard for their proper dignity, and seldom succeed in inoculating them with their ideas. They come from Paris, or more often from Marseilles. Their doubtful morality has generally left them little chance of honest employment in their own country. I remember one of them whose influence was fatal to a charming young woman. This Mademoiselle had originally been a singer in a cafe'-concert, and being furnished with a letter from a celebrated Armenian archbishop, easily installed herself in the house of this young married lady, inducing her to commit a thousand foolish actions, which ultimately forced the husband, who was aide-de-camp to His Majesty, to get a divorce.
Amongst all these governesses in search of adventures, I must mention one exception in favour of Miss Albert, whom I knew during my childhood, and who brought up the daughters of the Egyptian Prince M...... F........ . She had been recommended  to His Highness by a member of the English royal family. She left behind her a reputation for European honesty, and was much loved and respected. Therefore let us put in upon record that there was once a respectable European governess in Turkey - and she was English. Nevertheless, this education only brought disorder in the ideas of the young Turkish women. The Princesses - the pupils of Miss Albert - were far from happy. One of them, the widow of the famous K....... Pacha, celebrated in Paris under the Second Empire, gravely compromised herself with an immensely rich Jew; she was obliged to leave Constantinople for Cairo, where, since the occupation, she has laden the English with her favours, though she is over fifty years of age.
For the matter of that, Europeans seem very much to appreciate the beauties of other days.
One - a rich and amiable diplomat of a little country in the north - recently eloped with a much compromised and somewhat matured beauty, which caused the Khedive to say: " Thank Heaven! When our foolish women become old, some European is always ready to relieve us of them."
All this is very unfortunate, but difficult to avoid, and the rich harems will for a long time be given up to this false education, the Turks being in an impossible position for obtaining true knowledge about the governesses that are sent to them.
It is a mistake to believe in the possibility of any real education being given to the oriental women - a mistake spread by the few European women who are occasionally admitted for an hour or two into the harems. They have never really understood the true character of the family, or of Turkish households. Mademoiselle introduced doubtful novels or undertook the delivery of billets doux to the attachés at the embassies, which without her assistance were entirely deprived of oriental distraction.
The wise man understands that there is little real love outside the harem, and is afraid of the unknown. He has married a Circassian slave, beautiful and healthy; with her he has the odalisques, and if he chooses a slave of the harem who does not come under the title of odalisque, he would be obliged to instal her in a house apart - which would mean that the peace of the household would be compromised, and his own repose lost. Also the guardianship of the harems is wonderfully well carried out, and the virtue of a young woman is safer there than in any other form of life.
Then all the children are legitimate, and one of the most touching things in harem life is the love that all the women bear for the children of the master, even if they were born of a negress. As to the Miss or the Mademoiselle, I defy her to seduce the master or the son of the house."