Seven handsome
carriages contained his principal wives, or ladies of the harem (wives we
were told), and several of the Sultan's sons (mere youths) were there,
beautifully apparelled. We caught glimpses of the ladies through their
carriage windows, and being women (though veiled) I should be surprised
if they, on their part, did not get glimpses of us. There were eunuchs
too, black frock-coated--and the chief eunuch, an important personage who
ranks very high. Then came the Sultan (Abdul Hamid) himself in an open
carriage, closely surrounded and guarded by officers. He was an elderly,
careworn, bearded, sallow, melancholy looking man, whose features seemed
incapable of a smile. He entered the Mosque alone; his wives remaining
seated in their carriages outside. In the room in which we sat at an
open window to view the ceremony we were regaled with the Sultan's coffee
and cigarettes.
The streets and bazaars of Constantinople were absorbingly interesting.
The various nationalities that everywhere met the eye; the flowing
eastern costumes, the picturesque water carriers, the public letter
writers patiently seated at street corners and occupied with their
clients, the babel of voices, and yet an Oriental indolence pervading
all, crowds but no hurry; the sonorous and musical sound of the Muezzin
call to prayers from the minarets--all was new and strange; delightful
too, if you except the dogs that beset the streets and over which, as
they lay about, we stumbled at every step.
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