One of the ladies in this house has a daughter, who is petted like a princess by the retainers of the mother, and snarled at and jeered at by all the other factions. This young lady used to have an English governess, and took lessons in language and music whenever she could he persuaded to do so. One of the first duties laid upon the governess was that of keeping watch with others to see that the child did not eat anything from the hands of certain women who were pointed out to her. They belonged to the faction of a rival wife and the danger was that the little girl might he poisoned through spite.
When the governess used her rare permission to go out for a few hours, servants from the house dogged her steps following her through long miles and persistently hanging about the street corners when she stopped. At the house on her return she was always expected to explain every item of the observation of the spies. “ Why did you go to that house? Who lives there? Arc there any men there? What took you to the Post Office? To whom did you write? Why do you write letters to people? What did you pay for that cloth that you bought in Pera? ” Such questions made the Englishwoman more than once incline to forfeit the bond which she had given to stay in that place a year. But the inquisition to which she was subjected was as nothing compared with that applied to the ladies of the family when they went abroad with their retinue. Suspicion is the rule of the life in Constantinople, and oddly enough it is rarely resented. When a lady of the family went out private tours istanbul, even though she were the favourite wife, the women to go with her were chosen for her. There was always sure to be one personal enemy among the number. Tn no other way could the family be sure that the lady’s doings would be fully reported. The sharp and searching cross examination on her return was humiliating to the last degree. Perhaps a reason begins to appear why there is no word for “ home ’’ in the Turkish language.
Danger always exists, in treating such a complex subject, of giving an impression out of which unfair generalizations spring in the mind of the readers. While such a description as that just given of the environment of the Turkish woman at home is a fair average view, exceptions abound. I never saw anywhere a better illustration of a happy home life than a glimpse it was once my fortune to have of a Turkish gentleman’s home life in Constantinople. The surroundings were characteristic. The room was wide and long. Around the sides were brilliantly upholstered chairs and highly decorative tables bearing gay vases of artificial flowers, marvellous French clocks and the like. But all these appurtenances of state were neglected. On the floor in the midst of the room was a low stand bearing a large lamp and near this stand were arranged pillows and cushions. Comfortably resting on these cushions sat the gentleman of the house robed in a loose and flowing gown. He was reading aloud to his wife, a thoroughly intelligent woman to whom he turned now and then for comment and discussion of what he read. There was mutual understanding, there was wide-awake intelligence, and more than all there was the unmistakable confidence of affection in that picture.
European ladies in Constantinople
Two or three times it has been my fortune in calling upon European ladies in Constantinople to learn that Turkish women were visiting them and later to be asked to meet the visitors, who wished to speak on some matter of business. In each case on entering the room where they were the Turkish ladies were closely veiled, as custom requires them to be when in the presence of men. But in each case, after a short preliminary scrutiny during the opening phrases of conversation, the ladies removed and laid aside their veils and still preserved their poise and dignity. The act was the most delicate form possible of courteously expressing confidence in the man with whom they were talking. The effect was the more startling since they could not by any manner of means have been led to unveil in the presence of a Turk who was not of their own family. Such exceptions to general rules must be held in mind and given full weight while noting less agreeable exhibitions of the Turkish woman’s character and attainments.
One morning the wife of a Mohammedan neighbour of ours came out of her door dressed for the street in silk cloak and well laundered white veil. Another woman in a latticed window called to her:
“ Good morning Lefter Khanum, how are you doing? ”
“ Glory to God.”
“Where are you going?”
“ If God please I shall go to town to-day.”
“ May God keep you. Are you going to stay long? ”
“ I have not intended to stay, but if God wills, I may stay to-night.”
“ God give you safety. God give you peace.”
Bisera Radkova 