The Loves of the Harem: a tale of Constantinople

Front matter

IHE LOVES OF THE HAREM; A TALE OF CONSTANTINOPLE. B7 GEORGE W. M. REYNOLDS, ■.-.OX OF IHE IIBST AUD 3BCOKD SEBIB3 OB "THE MTSIEEIES OI LOKD0S," " THE MTSTEBIES OHUE COHBT OB LOHDOH," " IHE SSAMSTBESB," "THE BBOHZE 8TATPB," " OMAB : A TALE OF THE WAB," "THE COBAi ISLABD," " J03KFH WILMOT," "MAI MIDDLETOK," " E03A LAMEEEI," "LOUISA THE OBPHAJT," "IHE MODKBN LIIEKATUEE OB VBAHCB," '' PICKWiCK ABBOAD," " MABT PBICE," "WAOSEK THE WSSS WOLF," " K.FSSBTH," "THE UECBOMANCEB," " IUE MASSACBB OI GLEHCOB," " 4J,LES PEU.CY," " THE DAXB OP HOGABIH," "POPE J0AK," EIC, ETC WITH FORTY-ONE ILLUSTRATIONS. LONDON: I'CBLISnED, FOE M U. EEYKOL.DS, BY JOHN DICKS, No 7, WELLINGTON STREET NO UT II, STRAND. ISoo. I I N D E X. Chapter I. Tha Dark Mystery ....... .1 „ II. The Three Young Men ••..... 5 „ III. Wie Harem ......... 0 „ TV.

The Paaha ......... 12 „ V. The Talisman ......... 15 „ VI. Khalil's Tale ........ 21 „ VII. The Secret Door ........ 27 „ VIII. Khalil's Second Tale ....... 32 „ VIII*. Khalil and Ismilda ........ 38 „ IX. The Ethiopian ........ 42 „ X. Ehalil'a Third Story ........ 44 „ XI. Kbalil and Julian ........ 53 „ XII. Ismilda and Julian . . . . . . . .60 „ XIII. Khalil'a Fourth Story ....... 60 „ XIV. The '.Rebellion of the Janizaries ...... 67 „ XV. The Three Eocketa ....... 71 „ XVI. The Caique again ........ 79 „ XVII. The Festival of Hoses ....... 83 „ XVIII. Khalil's Fifth Story ....... 86 „ XIX. Another Night Adventure . ...... OS „ XX. The Key ......... 100 „ XXI. The Excursion on the Bosphorus ...... 108 „ XXII. Khalil's Sixth Story . . . . . . . . .112 „ XXIII. The Garden of Shady Avenues ...... 125 „ XXIV.

Zuleika's Adventure ........ 130 „ XXV. Lucas Vassilo's Story ....... 134 „ XXVI. The Russian Frigate ........ 139 „ XXVII. Tbe Conflict ........ 146 „ XXVIII. The Two Detonating Balls ...... INDEX. Chapter XXIX. The Vizier of the Cupola ...... „ XXX. Khalil's Seventh Story ... ... 164 „ XXXI. Continuation of Khalil's Seventh Story ..... 170 „ XXXI*. Continuation of Khalil's Seventh Story . . . • .178 „ XXXII. The History of Balkis ...... 189 „ XXXIII. Continuation of Khalil's Seventh Story . . . . .208 „ XXXIV. Continuation of Khalil's Seventh Story .... „ XXXV. Continuation of Khalil's Seventh Story ..... 240 „ XXXVI. Continuation of Khalil's Seventh Story .... „ XXXVII. Continuation of Khalil's Seventh Story . . . . .272 XXXVIII. Continuation of Khalil's Seventh Story .... „ XXXIX. Continuation of Khalil's Seventh Story .... „ XL.

Chapter I

A DABK MTSTEBY. Our tale opens in the year 1807, and in the reign of Sultan Selim the Third. At this period — which was one of an exciting political interest, tbe internal as well as tbe foreign policy of the Ottoman Government being but too well calculated to keep men's minds in a state of No. 1.— Loves op the Hakem. TH"E IOVES OP THE HAEEM. taken by surprise by some foul treachery from bebind. Ihe consternation could not have been greater; and if instead of the blue vault of heaven shining in its sunlit glory overhead by day, or in its starlit splendour by night, the mist of pestilence had h u i i >jy hea ry, dense, and oppressive, over Con stantinople, — that numbing, soul-crushing, awe in-hiring sensation could not have been more generally felt. And what was the cause of all this? Not the despotism of the ruling monarch: for he had ex hibited himself as the greatest reformer of the age — ftsld he was the first Sultan who had decreed that private property should be inviolable and that no life should be taken except by tbe regular operation of tbe laws or his own special mandate.

Neither was it an idle panic terror which had taken possession of the inhabitants of Constanti nople : it was a real and well-grounded alarm. Bur not to keep the reader any longer in suspense, we will proceed to explain the cause of this universal consternation and dismay throughout the sovereign city of the Ottomans. It might have been about a couple of years pre vious lo the date at which our tale opens, that a rumour began to circulate in Constantinople to the effect that more corpses than usual were washed ashore on tbe banks of the Bosphorus. Every one knew that outraged husbands or offended masters were wont to adopt pretty summary methods to rid themselves of incontinent wives or to punish unfaithful fe maleslaves, and that therefore the Bosphorus might always be expected to cast upon its banks more or less of Buch ghastly evidences of private vengeance.

But the number of dead bodies thus stranded, had for tbe last two years been rapidly on tbe increase,— until of late they had amounted to a number which proved that murder was being done wholesale in some secret quarter or another. And tbis surplus of human victims cast ashore by the blue waves of the Bos phorus, did not consist of females, but were all of the opposite sex. As time wore on too, and the horrible mystery grew more and more appalling, certain peculiar circumstances attached thereto be came evident. These we will now describe. But there were other peculiarities in respect to this alarming increase of murders. Tho victims were all young and handsome men — of ages averaging between eighteen and thirty ; and in no single case did the person of any one appear to have been rilled after the deed of murder waB accomplished.

They were young men belonging to all classes of society, and to all the different nations— Turk, Armenian, Jew, Greek, or Frank — which helped to make up the population of the city of Constantinople. But when washed on shore, the costly jewels and well-filled purse of the rich young man were as certain to be found about him as the few pence in the pocket of the hum blest victim. It was therefore evident that plunder was not the motive for these diabolic and mysterious assassinations : while this circumstance, coupled with tbe fact that the fatal blow was invariably dealt in the same manner, and ap parently -with tho same weapon (so far as the nicest surgical judgment could decide), necessarily led to the belief that all these numerous crimes emanated from one and the same quarter. During the two years that these horrible circumstances had been whispered about, more than a hundred young men had perished in the manner described : or at least that number of corpses bad been thrown up by the waters of the Bosphorus— though heaven knew how many others might have floated down into the Sea of Marmora or up into the Euxine.

At all events there were numerous families, high and low, rich and paor, who had to lament each the loss of some dearly-loved relative — husband, brother, or son, as the case might be; until at length the increasing amount of these fearful crimes, as horrible as they were mysterious, spread that universal terror which we have de scribed at the beginning of the chapter. Amidst the thousand conjectures with which people bewildered themselves, there were ceitain exceptions that were , quickly made on second thought. Thus, at first in the confusion of terror, the public mind was led to ascribe these numerous assassinations to political causes : but it was speedily recollected that the death-dealing hand chiefly struck those who by their youth, or else by the obscurity of their position, were totally incapable of being objects of alarm to the Government.

Again, it was at first conjectured that the Jews were wreaking a terrific bigoted vengeance on both Turks and Cnristians : but then it was remembered that some of tbe handsomest and most promising young Israelites had been numbered amongst the victims. In a word, it was impossible to ascribe the authorship of these black ini quities to any particular sect, inasmuch as there were members of every sect who had lost their lives in the same mauner. It was the invariable habit for outraged husbands or masters, when inflicting death punishment upon guilty wives or concubines, to place the culprits in sacks, of which the mouths were tied ere the burthens were thrown into tbe Bosphorus. Again, if secret executions took place at tbe Sultan's Seraglio, or palace — (for his Im perial Majesty, in spite of bis new penal code, retained to hims3lf, as already hinted, the privi lege of inflicting capital penalties in case of need) —it was invariably the bow-string which did tbe work ; and the corpses, when discovered, would be found with the fatal ligature round their swollen, bloated, and discoloured necks.

But in respect to the vast number of corpses which had re cently been washed ashore, it was evident tbat neither the sack nor tbe bowstring had been used in making away with the unfortunate creatures. Moreover, as we have already said, they were of tbe male sex, and therefore did not belong to the cate gory of those for whom the sack was usually ren dered available. They had evideutly been murdered with some sharp weapon— a sword or a scimitar; and in nearly all cases the fatal blow had been dealt across the back of the neck, as if the victims were Besides, if all these assasinations resulted from any vengeance of that sort, it was scarcely to be supposed tbat every death would be inflicted in tho same manner, under the same circumstances of treachery, or tbat the blow would be dealt by tha hand of tbe same executioner, and even as it appeared by the same sort of weapon.

And yet, on the other hand, if it were not a wholesale vengeance which was thu3 bein» wreaked in rapidly consecutive details, what could HAEEM. the motive of such numerous and ruthless mur ders be ?— what crime could have been committed that needed so many additional crimes in order to conceal it? Conjecture appeared useless: the wisest aud most sagacious were bewildered; and while heads were shaken and shoulders were Bhrugged ominously, all countenances were filled with a blank and appalled dismay, or else with a painful excitement. No one knew where the blow might be stricken next: tbe rich were no more exempt from tbe terrible infliction than the poor : the poor could not, on account of their poverty, reckon upon their safety any more than the rich. Murder was abroad like a pestilence — impalpable and invisible in itself, but leaving effects terribly palpable and frightfully visible be hind, in its dark, dreaded, and mysterious march.

The police-authorities exerted themselves with an unwearying energy to discover a clue to the authorship of these appalling crimes. They not merely adopted the open precaution of^additional and frequent patrols by day and night through every quarter of Constantinople— but they set in operation all those private means of espial and secret manœuvring which are familiar enough to the police of all civilized countries. Judges, magistrates, and constables disguised themselves in kiuds of ways ; and reckless of personal risk, they plunged into the lowest neighbourhoods, or wan dered about the most unfrequented parts, in the hope of discovering something tbat should light their way to the reading of the horrible mystery. Numerous other devices were set on foot with the same object, and which we have not here space to describe : but all were in vain.

The murders con tinued ; and tbe authorship of these foul iniquities remained wrapped in a darkness as impenetrable as ever. cases turn to their Sovereign as the source whence relief for a crying evil must emanate. Thus, though the populace of Constantinople acquitted Selim the Third of the authorship of these crimes for any political reason, they nevertheless grew clamorous in their opinions that he was bound to take effective measures to stem the torrent of this river of blood. " Of what use," they asked amongst themselves, — "is a Padishah whom we are taught to believe all-powerful and all-seeing, if during the space of two whole years, he has continued impotent for the purpose of checking the tide of assassination, and blind as to its source ?" Similar sentiments were expressed amongst the upper classes, until the Sultan could no longer be kept by his courtiers in ignorance of all that was thus 6aid throughout his capital.

Selim accordingly saw the absolute necessity of doing some thing more than had already been effected by tbe police-authorities and the other agents of tho law; and though the most enlightened, the most humane, and the most merciful of Ottoman des pots, he did the only thing which a Sultan in such circumstances could possibly do. Seated upon his throne in full divan, and at tended by all the Ministers and great dign'taries of State, as well as by all the high officials of his household, Selim ordered the Kadiasker, or Chief Judge of Constantinople, to be summoned to his presence. Tbis functionary — who was head of (he police as well as president of the supreme military and civil tribunals — bore the denomination of Hassan-Effendi. He was an old man, past sixty years of age— with a venerable white beard flow ing almost down to his girdle; and dressed in his robes of office, he hastened to obey the imperial mandate.

It may easily be supposed that the public mind become so fearfully unsettled, that some individuals scarcely had the heart to go about tbeir ordinary avocations — while others were so ex cited by the desire of avenging the deaths of in dividuals near and dear to them, or else by an eager hope for the reward offered by the government for the discovery of the mystery, tbat they ran about in all directions for the purpose of getting, if possible, upon the right track. As we have already said that it was only young men, between the ages of about eighteen and thirty, who were made the victims of this unseen and unknown source of death, elderly men had no positive fear for themselves: but on the other hand, there were few if any of this class who had not sons, nephews, relatives, or friends, who pos sessed the fearful qualification of juvenility to render them eligible as victims for the assassin hand.

Thus men of mature years— dignitaries of State, merchants, tradesmen, or private gentlemen — rose every morning with a horrible dread of re ceiving intelligence that 6ome near or dear one was missing; and on retiring to rest at night, they carried to their couches the same frightful apprehension lest bereavement should be in store for them during the ensuiDg hours of darkness. Such was the condition of Constantinople at the time when our tale opens, ia the middle of summer, 1807. Having prostrated himself at the feet of tho throne — and made the three usual obeisances, by touching the upper-step of the velvet-covered dais with his forehead — Hassan-Effendi glanced timidly at tbe Sultan: for he had already per ceived tbat tbe usually benevolent countenance of bis Imperial Majesty was stern and severe, and that tbe wrinkles which the cares of government rather than the effects of time had impressed upon his brow, were still more deeply corrugated.

" What means it, O wretched Effendi !" de manded the Sultan, " that you who exercise supreme jurisdiction over the police of my capital, have for two years suffered the continuation of crimes which make men's hair stand on end — which strike dismay into the bosoms of countless families— appal the old, and drive the young frenzied with excitement?" '■ Mighty Sovereign," answered the Kadiasker Hassan-Effendi, "it is not that I have suffered the continuation of these hideous iniquities: but it is tbat I have vainly endeavoured to discover their authorship." " My people are clamouring," exclaimed tha Sultan, "and not without reason. There must be an end put to all this ! Such diabolic atrocities as the last two years have seen, are sufficient to draw down the curse of Allah upon our country — to goad my subjects to rebellion — and to render the name of Osmanli putrid in the nostrils of all the nations of the world.

Listen then, O Effendi I and mark well the words of your Sovereign. Take In a despotic country, where the will of one man is law, the inhabitants naturally in extreme eight days for tbe discovery of tho author or authors of these dire enormities ; and if by the time the 6un rises on the ninth morning hence you have failed in the duty now assigned unto you, your head shall be struck off and set over the portals of your dwelling, as a warning to all Kadiaskers who prove themselves unfitted for their high and responsible office. Having thus spoken with a stern countenance and an implacable voice — though with feelings of real inward pain at the remorseless duty which he found himself called upon to perform — the Sultan waved his hand imperiously for the Kadiasker to retire. Hassan-Effendi, not daring to remon strate, but with a heart filled with the direst mis givings, made the three obeisances — and departed in mingled affliction and bewilderment to his own home. occasion rendered a signal service, and who pro mised " "True!" ejaculated Hassan-Effendi, his vene rable countenance suddenly brightening up as bis soul caught tho inspiration of that hope which his wife's words conveyed.

" Yes— there is one whose interest I might claim and whose influence might avail ! There is no time to be lost : for it is not at the first entreaty that Selim can be moved— it will be the work of several days to induce the Sultan to revoke the fearful mandate which haa gone forth from his lips." "Let no time be lost, therefore!" said the Kadiasker's wife. " Here are writing-materials hasten and pen a billet " "Yes," exclaimed Hassan-Effendi; "and our beloved Zuleika shall be the bearer of it. She need not fear to raise her veil in the presence of him to whom she is about to be despatched : for he is a man of honour as well as of a feeling heart — and he will boj kindly moved by the tearful beauty of her who appeals unto him on behalf of her father." But it was with an almost equal sorrow that the merciful Sultan, breaking up the council, retired into the private apartments of his palace,— where he sought his two favourite sons, Mustapha and Mahmoud, to whom he imparted all that had taken place, and from whom he received consola tion for the stern duty he had found himself called upon to perform.

It may be as well to observe that the Imperial Princes were strictly confined, by tbe usages of the Ottoman Court, to the limits of the private department of the palace and the gardens attached thereto; and that all communi cation or intercourse between themselves aud the great world without was strictly forbidden. They were however kept well informed as to the circumstances which transpired beyond the walls of the Seraglio : they were therefore no strangers to the tremendous series of crimes which had lately horrified and disgraced Constantinople; and they could not do otherwise than applaud their imperial father for the course he had adopted. Zuleika readily accepted the mission, even before she obtained a deeper insight into its nature. Hassan Effendi penned the letter ; and his affectionate daughter, having received her in stftictions, set off, attended by two female slaves, who followed at a respectful distance.

Tbe young damsel, who was beautiful as one of the houris of Mohammed's paradise — proceeded, closely veiled, through the streets of Constan tinople, aud bent her way to tbe palace of the Sultan. She bade her slaves wait for her at the outer gate — that superb entrance which bears the denomination of the Sublime Porte, and which is often figuratively used to represent the Ottoman Government itself. Penetrating into the seraglio, she by means of some whispered words passed the various sentinels — the Court of Pages — and tho other custodians of the imperial dwelling, until she reached the innermost recesses of that vast palatial edifice. Ultimately an inquiry led Zuleika into the presence of a hideous-looking black, dressed in a gorgeous uniform all bedizened with gold, and with massive epaulettes upon the shoulders, as well as with equally splendid aiguillettes festooning over his breast.

This was the Kislar-Aga, or Chief of tho Eunuchs — a high authority, and bearing a rank equivalent to a Pasha, as he was one of the principal dignitaries of the Sultan's household. To him Zuleika knelt, and proffered a request tho granting of which was absolutely necessary for tho furtherance of the aim which she had in view. At first tho Kislar-Aga refused— then he hesitated— until at length moved by the young damsel's earnest intercessions and tearful prayers, he yielded to her demand. Bidding her follow him, he led Zuleika into an adjacent apartment: but thither we cannot introduce the reader at this stage of our story. In the meanwhile the unhappy Kadiasker Hassan-Effendi had returned to his sumptuous dwelling, where he sought his faithful wife and his beautiful daughter, and bade them weep with him ; for that on the ninth day thence his existence must be inevitably surrendered up as a sacrifice to the imperial exaction and to popular clamour.

"How am I to fathom in eight days," he pas sionately exclaimed, " that frightful mystery which for two whole years has baffled all the artifice and ingenuity of my most cunning police-agents? As well order me to set off iu search of the philoso pher's stone or tho elixir of life !" "And can nothing bo done, dearest father?" inquired the amiable and lovely Zuleika : "have you no powerful friend whose intercession may move the Sultan in your behalf, and induce his Imperial Majesty to recall this frightful man date ?" " Surely my brother the Pasha," suggested the Kadiasker's affectionate wife, " would use all his influence " " No, my beloved !" interrupted Hassan-Effendi, with a mournful countenance. "If the Sultan has deemed it his duty thus fearfully to menace the great Kadiasker of the city, it is not the influence of any Pasha that will move hi3 Majesty."

There was a long and melancholy silence, — until at length the Kadiasker's wife, struck with a sudden idea, whispered hastily to her husband, " Surely there is one to whom you on & certain Suffice it to say that in something less than an hour afterwards, Zuleika issued from the imperial palace; and if any one could have then peeped beneath her veil, he would have seen that her beauteous countenance was animated with hopo and joy. Her step too was moro elastic— her tread more airy — her pace quicker, as she wended her way homeward, followed by the two slavei who had tarried for her outside the Sublime Porte. promenade. At length, attracted by the light which blazed forth from the windows of a hand some coffee-house in the Greek quarter of the city, he entered the place. Taking a seat, he called for the usual refreshments — a glass of sherbet and a chibouque, or pipe.

At the moment of the handsome young Turk's entrance, there were only two other persons present in the public room of the coffee-house; and these guests, by their personal appearance and their elegant picturesque costume, were evidently Greeks. They were about the same age as the Turk ; and in their own special styles were almost equally good-looking. They were seated together at a table, discussing something stronger than sherbet: for they had a flagon of wine and glasses before them. They were engaged too in deep and earnest conversation at the time of the young Turk's en trance; but they almost immediately desisted, and began to survey him with some degree of atten tion. On reaching the paternal mansion, the amiable Zuleika threw herself first into tho arms of her father — then upon the bosom of her mother; and her parents were at once enabled to judge, ere a single syllable issued from their daughter's lips, that her mission had been attended with success.

Tears of hope and happiness flowed from the gazelle -like dark eyes of Zuleika, adown her damask cheeks, — the pearly drops faUing upon a bosom of such dazzling whiteness that they seemed like icicles that had settled upon hillocks of snow tipped each with a delicate rose-leaf. Tbe first effusion of pleasurable emotions being thus past, Zuleika related all that had occurred at the Sultan's palace ; and once more was she rap turously strained in the arms of her parents. " You are a good and affectionate girl," murmured the old Kadiasker ; " and this evening you shall pay a visit to your fair cousins. They, as well as your uncle and aunt, will have heard of the terrible mandate proclaimed from the Sultan's lips ; and you may allay the poignancy of their apprehensions by the assurance that there is hope."

The object of this increasing interest on their part, appeared either unconscious of their contem plation, or else affected to be so. The two Greeks exchanged significant looks — then whispered to gether — and then turned their eyes towards tho young Turk again. Again too they whispered for a few minutes : they appeared to be deliberating some point, and ultimately to arrive at a decision. They then approached the youthful Mussulman, and addressed him in the usual complimentary manner which exhibits a desire for a more friendly intercourse. " On the contrary, my dear father," replied Zuleika: "I had forgotten to mention that I received the most positive injunction against breath ing a syllable of aught that has taken place to any one but yourself and my beloved mother." " Then wo must keep the seal of silence upon our lips," exclaimed Hassan-Effendi; "and all you need say is, that while during the eight days I shall leave no earthly measure unadopted for the discovery of the hideous mystery, — yet that if I fail, I shall be prepared on the morning of the ninth to meet death as becomes a true Mussulman bending to his inflexible destiny."

The Turk responded to their civilities with a most gracious affability; and for some minutes the discourse continued on ordinary common-place subjects. The young Mussulman discovered, from the way in which his two new acquaintances ad dressed each other, that they were not brothers, as he had at first surmised — but only very intimate friends ; and that their Christian names were respectively Lucas and Julian.