III THE SULTAN AND HIS FAMILY

The present Sultan of Turkey is the most interesting personality among the sovereigns of the world, both for what he is and for what he represents, exercising as he does the functions of an emperor over a semi-barbarous and turbulent people, and spiritual jurisdiction over the most fanatical and numerous of religious sects. He is the ecclesiastical successor of Mohammed, head of the Moslem Church with 200,000,000 believers, and of the house of Ishmael, the son of Abraham, and in his person is supposed to receive and enjoy the blessings which God promised to Hagar. That is one of the most dramatic incidents in Biblical history when, in obedience to the jealousy of Sarah, his wife, “Abraham rose up early in the morning and took bread and a bottle of water and gave it to Hagar, putting it on her shoulders, and the child, and sent her away, and she departed and wandered in the wilderness of Beersheba.” And after the water was spent in the bottle and she had cast the child under one of the shrubs, and lifted up her voice and wept, “The angel of God called to Hagar out of heaven, and said unto her: ‘Arise, lift up the lad and hold him in thine hands, for I will make him a great nation.’”

The Moslem world believes that Abraham was the founder of Mecca; that Ishmael was their ancestor and that they have inherited the religion of Abraham with its promises and blessings, and the characteristic traits ascribed to Ishmael. Their hand has been against every man, and every man’s hand has been against them, and still they defy all other nations, whether pagan or Christian. Padishah (father of all the sovereigns of the earth) is the official title of the Sultan, and is used exclusively by the Turks in official communications. He is also styled Imam-ul-Muselmin (pontiff of Mussulmans), Alem Penah (refuge of the world), Zil-ullah (shadow of God), Hunkiar (the slayer of infidels), and has several other honorary titles. He controls the Mohammedan subjects of all nations, and if he should go to a little mosque at the Seraglio, unfurl the green banner which was carried by Mohammed, and declare a holy war, the sons of Ishmael in every part of the earth—in India, Africa, China, the East Indies, and the islands of the sea—would be required by their religion to sustain him and obey his orders, regardless of their allegiance to their own civil authorities.

Abdul Hamid II., the present Sultan, who was sixty years old in September, 1902, is said to be a great coward who dare not leave his country palace or show himself in his own capital. It is true that the most extraordinary precautions are taken for his protection. He dare not leave the safe solitude of Yildiz Park, which is situated about two miles outside the gates of Constantinople and surrounded by a double wall. The road from the palace to the Bosphorus passes between those walls and is protected every inch of the way from the gates of the park to the wharf on the Bosphorus, where, once a year only, he takes a state barge and is rowed over to the Seraglio to perform the obligation imposed upon him by his religion: viz., to worship the holy mantle of the prophet on the anniversary of the death of Mohammed. That act is required of him. If he did not perform it the whole church would rise against him. Therefore, for that day, he is compelled to suppress his fears and appear before the public; but it would be impossible for an outsider to get anywhere near him unless he were highly recommended and identified. Some people say that his cowardice is cultivated by his ministers and other men who surround him, because they find it to their personal advantage to prevent him from going abroad. So they keep him locked in the Yildiz Kiosk, where they can control his surroundings and prevent him from receiving any information that will be to their discredit. At the same time there is no doubt that the Sultan keeps constantly in mind the fact that many of the twenty-seven Padishahs who have reigned at Constantinople are believed to have died by violence. Several endeavored to save their lives by abdication, but the public never saw them again.

The conspiracies are all among his own people and his immediate attendants—the “outs” are always scheming to get in and the “ins” are always conspiring to maintain their position. There are no political parties in Turkey; there are no political issues. It is all a question of obtaining the Sultan’s favor, and the entire Mohammedan population is divided into two classes,—the ruling favorites and those who have been discarded. The officials and army officers who have been disgraced and removed from their positions naturally desire to recover them, and hate the Sultan because he likes other people better than themselves. The same jealousies prevail among the men of the court as among the women of the harem. The outside population take no interest. They are glad to be let alone. The business community consists of Armenians, Greeks and Jews, with a few Turks. It would not be accurate to say that all Turks are in office, but it is actually true that all the offices are filled by Turks, and as there are not enough offices to go round, those who are left out and compelled to get their living without the aid of the government, are forever conspiring against the Sultan or the grand vizier.

Some curious conspiracies are discovered. One of the most recent, which for a time created a profound sensation at the Yildiz Kiosk and caused the Sultan the loss of considerable sleep, was inspired by a young Turk of high family named Rechad Bey. His father occupies a post of distinction and many of his relatives are employed about the court in offices of responsibility. As a rare favor to the family the Sultan permitted them to send the young man to England, where he attended school for several years and imbibed a great many ideas which do not conform to the present state of affairs in Turkey. In 1901, upon his return, he organized a football club among the young men of his acquaintance and practiced in a vacant lot behind a high wall in the neighborhood of his father’s palace. The detectives, who are always around, discovered that something unusual was going on, and upon making a thorough investigation decided that Rechad Bey had organized a desperate conspiracy against the life and government of the Sultan. He was arrested in the middle of the night. The keys to the garden and the clubhouse were seized, and the most astounding discoveries followed. In the clubhouse were found several footballs, a lot of jerseys and the colors of the club, with shin guards, nose protectors, elbow pads and other paraphernalia familiar to football players. To complete the damning evidence one of the detectives cunningly ascertained that the name of the large elastic bomb which these young men were in the habit of kicking around at each other was the same term as that used by the Turks for a cannon ball. Hence it must be a new kind of bomb or shell, and the police authorities were convinced that they had unearthed an important conspiracy to assassinate the Sultan and blow up the palace. The footballs were submerged in water to prevent their explosion, and the sweaters and the rest of the outfit were carried cautiously to the palace in order that the Sultan might see for himself.

Football has been played for years in Constantinople by the young men of the English embassy and the European colony, and also by the students of Robert College, but the police authorities and the Sultan never happened to hear of it. Hence they knew nothing of the game. When the friends of Rechad Bey learned how serious a predicament he was in they appealed to the British embassy for assistance. One of the secretaries was sent to the minister of police to explain the nature of the game and the uses of the terrible articles that had been discovered at the clubhouse. He unlaced a football without the slightest trepidation and showed the officials how it was made. He put on the nose guards, the shin protectors and the other armor and attempted to convince them of its innocent purpose. But they were still very suspicious. Perhaps their pride had something to do with it, for they insisted upon having Rechad Bey severely punished, and he was bundled off in great haste to Teheran, Persia, where he cannot do anything to aid in the disintegration of the Ottoman Empire.

The Sultan’s advisers tell him that his life is in danger, and are continually discovering conspiracies which never exist. A recent fictitious conspiracy against him was attributed to one of his best and most loyal friends, Fuad Pasha, “The Hero of Elena,” one of the foremost generals in the war against Russia in 1877 and the war against Greece in 1897. Fuad Pasha is an enlightened and honest man and has had the confidence of the foreigners to a degree greater than almost any other of the Sultan’s favorites. Until recently he was so much of a favorite that the Sultan allowed him to hold his handkerchief for the people to kiss, which was a mark of the greatest honor and confidence. He kept Fuad Pasha about his person constantly, giving him the command of his bodyguard; but Fuad in some way offended the detective department, which reported to the Sultan that his favorite was involved with the reformers known as the “Young Turkey” party, and spies were set to watch his house. Fuad noticed strange men about the premises. He probably suspected who they were and what they were there for, but pretended to believe that they were burglars, and purchased a supply of rifles and revolvers, which he placed in the hands of his servants with instructions to fire upon the intruders if they became offensive. This fact was reported to the Sultan promptly, and the vigilance of the spies was increased. A few days later a collision occurred between them and Fuad’s servants, in which several were killed and wounded. Fuad was immediately arrested, taken to the palace, and after an interview with the Sultan was sent aboard the latter’s private yacht, which sailed at once for Beirut without allowing the prisoner to communicate with his family or friends. He is supposed to have been sentenced to exile at Damascus instead of being executed, which is a mark of great forbearance upon the Sultan’s part.

Fuad found plenty of company at Damascus. Several other of the Sultan’s former favorites are there in exile, hopefully awaiting a day when their sovereign will be less susceptible to the influence of his hired spies and detectives and more trustful of his loyal friends and supporters. The great difficulty, however, is in His Majesty’s natural distrust. When his suspicions are once aroused his ideas are always distorted and his confidence can scarcely ever be restored. He is thus driving away some of his most valuable supporters.

In 1901, when the Sultan went to Seraglio Point to worship at the mosque that holds the sacred mantle of the prophet, another funny thing occurred. He was landed at the regular dock, where a carriage was waiting to convey him to the old palace, but he had not proceeded far when he noticed that telegraph wires had been stretched across the driveway along the line of the railroad, and positively declined to pass under them. Nobody knows what was in his mind, or what he thought would happen, but the entire procession was stopped right there, and remained motionless until aides-de-camp had galloped away to summon somebody from the railway headquarters who could climb the poles and cut down the wires. Nor have they been replaced. The Sultan positively forbade it, but the railway officials are supposed to have dug a trench and hidden them underground. If the Sultan learns that fact he may refuse to drive over them.

He is very superstitious about electricity, but is as inconsistent concerning it as he is with everything else. He will not permit electric lights or telephones or electric street cars anywhere in Turkey, although the government has a telegraph line to every important point in the empire, and the Sultan has an instrument and an operator in his private office to receive messages in his own private cipher from detectives and other officials in different parts of the country in whom he has special confidence, or to whom he may have intrusted important business. He maintains a regular system of communication with officials of the empire entirely distinct from and without the knowledge of their immediate superiors. The general of the army and the minister of war do not know what communications are passing between commanders of posts and districts and their sovereign, and the minister of the interior can never be sure what private reports are being made by his subordinates. Thus the mutual distrust that exists between the Sultan and his ministers is not only recognized, but promoted. There are three electric-light plants in Constantinople—at one of the hotels, at the palace of the mother of the Khedive of Egypt on the Bosphorus, and at the palace of Hassan Pasha, minister of marine. There are two private telephone systems, one between the headquarters of the Imperial Ottoman Bank and its branches throughout the city, and the other between the signal-station where the Bosphorus connects with the Black Sea and the headquarters of the Maritime Association in Constantinople. The Sultan will not allow gas or petroleum or other explosives to be used about the palace, although the park surrounding the palace is brilliantly illuminated by gas. His rooms and the other apartments are lit with candles and equipped with beautiful crystal chandeliers. There are several street-car lines operated by horses, and the companies have repeatedly applied for permission to use electricity, but have always been refused. In the street-cars, ferry-boats and other public conveyances there is always a little apartment curtained off for the use of ladies.

Gorges Dorys, author of “The Private Life of the Sultan,” recently published in England, France and the United States, has been sentenced to death. His real name is Adossides. The proceedings are only formal, however, because Mr. Dorys left the country before the manuscript of the book was finished and is now living in Paris. The French government has been asked to surrender him, but has refused to do so. Mr. Dorys, however, will never be able to return to his home. All of the European nations were requested by the Turkish ambassadors to suppress the volume, and the Sultan has been led to believe that his wishes have been complied with all over the world; but nothing has been actually done, except in Sweden, where an attempt to prevent the sale of the book by legal proceedings not only failed but gave it a tremendous advertisement.

Mr. Dorys is the son of Adossides Pasha, one of the former ministers of the Sultan. His father was a distinguished and influential man, at one time governor of Crete and afterwards prince of Samos, a post he occupied until his death. The son spent his childhood and youth about the Yildiz Kiosk, where he had exceptional opportunities for seeing and knowing the extraordinary events of the Ottoman court, and much of the material used in his book is said to have been obtained from the private papers of his late father, which fell into his possession after the latter’s death. Mr. Dorys was correspondent of the London Times at Constantinople for two or three years, and as such made himself familiar with political conditions. He was therefore admirably equipped for the task he undertook, but was unable to suppress his prejudice, and does not give the Sultan credit for his few virtues. The work is both approved and condemned by people in Turkey. Some say that it is accurate and just; others accuse him of being actuated by personal spite. He has at least stirred up the Sultan and his court to a degree of indignation that has not been shown there for many years.

The missionaries say that Abdul Hamid is a bad Sultan, but a good Moslem; that his fanaticism is equal to that of any fakir in his realm; that he is responsible for the persecution of the Christians and for the massacre of the Armenians; that the orders were given by him personally. On the other hand, Americans and Englishmen who are in the habit of visiting the palace and have personal acquaintance with His Majesty, insist that he has many good traits and that he would not be a bad man at all if he lived under different conditions.

When General Horace Porter, our ambassador to France, visited Turkey, the Sultan received him with unusual cordiality and attention, because of General Porter’s former relations to General Grant. When he heard that Mr. Porter had been Grant’s private secretary, it was enough. A carriage from the imperial stable, an aide-de-camp from the Yildiz Kiosk and a military escort were placed at his disposal and all doors in Constantinople were ordered thrown open to him. Few travelers have ever been received with so much distinction, and before he left the city the Sultan gave a dinner in his honor at the palace and decorated Mrs. Porter with one of his most important orders.

It is remarkable what an impression General Grant left during his famous tour around the world. He is remembered with reverence everywhere—in China and Japan as well as in Turkey. The Sultan and the King of Siam, as well as Li Hung Chang, have always quoted him to Americans as their highest authority. His fame and his influence will be everlasting.

Mrs. Porter was entertained in the Sultan’s harem, but that was no unusual courtesy. The wives of the diplomatic corps are often received by the sultanas, who are glad to see them, and any other strangers for that matter, because their lives are very monotonous and their diversions are few. No person may ask permission to visit the imperial or any private harem. It would be considered an insult. If the Sultan or any Turkish gentleman desires foreign ladies to meet his wives he will offer them an invitation, and will either conduct them in person to the harem or send them in charge of the kizlar-aghasi, or chief eunuch, a very important personage, who ranks next to the grand vizier and the Sheik-ul-Islam.

The Sultans have long ceased to contract regular marriages, and the harem is a state institution. Nobody knows the exact number of Abdul Hamid’s wives, but he is supposed to have 300 or 400, who are graded and live according to their rank under the direction of the khasna-dar kadin, or superintendent of the harem. They are from the prominent families of the empire, as frequently the sultanas are able to exercise a powerful influence in behalf of their relatives and friends. When a rich pasha wants to secure the favor of the Sultan he offers him one of his daughters with a suitable dowry as a wife. If she is accepted it is a sign of friendliness as well as a mark of distinction. When the governor of the Circassian province, which is said to have the most beautiful women in Turkey, wishes to please his imperial master, he will send him a handsome young girl as a gift, or when any of his subordinates discover a young woman of remarkable attractions they secure her for the harem just as they would secure a valuable horse for the imperial stables. The Sultan does not always accept such gifts. He is supposed to be very fastidious, particularly now that he has passed the age of sixty years, and is becoming quite as suspicious regarding the inmates of the harem as he is concerning the members of his court. His eldest sister, who is a woman of very strong character and has more influence with him than any other person, looks after the harem very closely, and has sent away a large number of girls whom she considered supernumeraries, if such a term can be used in that connection. It is also understood throughout the empire that His Majesty does not care for any more wives. He has transferred to his favorite pashas several remarkable beauties who have been added to the harem within the last few years. In the summer of 1902 he sent one of the most beautiful to the governor of Damascus to comfort the latter in affliction, as he had recently become a widower.

The ladies of the harem are called sultanas. They enter as slaves, and the younger become the servants of the older and attend upon them until they are promoted. If the Sultan takes a fancy to any one of his wives her fortune is made, for she is rapidly promoted, her allowance for dresses and jewels is increased and, if she bears a child, she can live apart from the rest, as becomes a princess. All children born in the harem, whether of free women or slaves, are legitimate and of equal lineage, and may inherit the throne if they ever become the head of the family.

The daughters of the Sultan are married to favorite pashas and officers of the army. He confers them upon his favorite subjects at pleasure, but they are not always regarded as a blessing. It is assuming a great responsibility to marry the daughter or the sister of the Sultan. They are very exacting and naturally realize their rank and superiority to ordinary people. They are expensive luxuries also, because an imperial princess must live in a certain degree of state.

Ladies of the imperial harem almost without exception wear European dress. Only the most recent arrivals, girls who come from the interior of the country, retain the native costume. The sultanas have French maids and order their gowns and hats in Paris. Every now and then a French modiste or milliner arrives in Constantinople with samples for the inspection of the sultanas, from whom she receives very large and liberal orders. Although they are seldom seen by men, the inmates of the harem have all the feminine instincts and there is a great deal of rivalry among them. We saw one of the Sultan’s favorite wives and her daughter driving in a victoria, accompanied by a negro eunuch and a military escort. They were dressed in European fashion, but were closely veiled so that their features could not be distinguished.

The apartments of the harem are equipped with European furniture. The meals are served in European style and the cooks are French. The French language is spoken generally among the sultanas and they read French novels. Turkish customs are almost obsolete. The traditional harem in which houris sit around upon silk rugs with their legs crossed and play guitars and eat sweetmeats exists only in the imagination. The women live just like any other royal family, except that they are not allowed to receive company or enter society, and when they leave the palace they must wear heavy veils. When the Sultan’s wives are ill they are attended by the male physician of the British embassy. This is also an innovation. Formerly no Christian physician was allowed in the harem. The patients are always veiled when the doctor visits them. Even if they are confined to their beds, strips of mull are thrown over their faces.

Abdul Hamid is the son of Abdul Medjid, who abdicated in 1861 in favor of his eldest son, Abdul Aziz. The latter reigned until 1876, when he was overthrown and his next brother, Murad V., was placed in power. The latter was an impetuous reformer and one of the founders of the “Young Turkey” party, which demands a constitution and a change in the form of government from an absolute to a limited monarchy. When he attempted to carry his ideas into effect his ministers pronounced him insane—and perhaps it was an evidence of insanity to introduce liberal reforms into Turkey—so they shut him up in the Tcheragan Palace, upon the banks of the Bosphorus, where it is supposed that he still resides in seclusion, although no one is bold enough to show curiosity as to his fate in the presence of those who would be apt to know. It was in that palace also that Abdul Aziz died after his abdication. So reliable a witness as the surgeon of the British embassy testified that it was a case of suicide; that the deposed Sultan, in a fit of passion and disappointment, opened the arteries in his arms with a pair of scissors that were given him to trim his nails. But the popular theory is that somebody opened them for him and let him bleed to death. Perhaps Prince Murad may have met with a similar fate years ago. He has not been seen by any competent witness since the spring of 1877, and was then pronounced to be in an advanced state of paresis—a mere idiot—but the circumstance that the Tcheragan Palace has never been opened since, and is as closely guarded as ever, leads people to suppose Murad still survives. But, as I have said, nobody but the confidential eunuchs of the Sultan knows anything about him.

The heir to the Turkish throne is not the son of the Sultan, but his eldest living male relative—brother, son or cousin, whoever it happens to be. This is the law of Islam, and has been a fruitful source of conspiracy and tragedy ever since the Turks have been in possession of the Ottoman Empire. It was formerly customary for a new Sultan to order the immediate execution of all his brothers as soon as he was seated upon the throne; but public sentiment in Europe has forbidden the application of that heroic precaution during the last fifty or sixty years. It is generally assumed that the present Sultan would like to murder his brothers, but dare not do so; hence he keeps them prisoners or constantly under surveillance in the many palaces of Constantinople. They are the most unhappy and wretched of all his subjects. He has five brothers:

Murad Effendi, born September 21, 1840.
Mohammed Reshad Effendi, born November 3, 1844.
Kemel Eddin Effendi, born December 3, 1847.
Suleiman Effendi, born March 12, 1860.
Wahid Uddin Effendi, born January 12, 1861.

GATE TO DOLMA BAGHTCHEH PALACE, CONSTANTINOPLE

Reshad Effendi, the second brother, is therefore the heir to the throne, and, although he has been kept a practical prisoner for twenty years, so that very few people know him, he is said to be a man of refinement, education and integrity, much superior to his imperial brother in intellect and appearance. He occupies a portion of the Dolma-Baghtcheh Palace in Constantinople during the winter months, and during the summer goes to Machla, a suburban town, where he has a farm and a pretty villa. He has never been allowed to leave the immediate vicinity of Constantinople, and his communications with the outside world have been closely restricted by the orders of his brother. He is said to read French readily and to receive the principal newspapers and reviews of Europe that are printed in that language. He is also believed to have been in sympathy and in communication with his brother-in-law, the late Damad-Mahmoud Pasha, who fled to escape a sentence of death for his liberal opinions. This is, however, purely conjecture, because if the Sultan, with all his spies, cannot discover such a circumstance, it would seem impossible for the gossips to learn anything about it.

Prince Kemel Eddin, the third brother, is an invalid, and quite as feeble in mind as in body, with a low degree of cunning and strong animal instincts. He inherits the family tendency to pulmonary complaints. Prince Suleiman and Prince Wahid Uddin are allowed to go about Constantinople more freely than the other brothers, and are quite familiar to the public, better known perhaps than any other members of the family. Both live in handsome palaces and have liberal allowances from the public revenues, which they spend with great extravagance in luxury and vice. Neither Turks nor foreigners seem to care much for them. They have no social position and very few friends.

The Sultan has several sisters. One of them, Djemile Sultana, six years older than he, is a woman of strong character and has a great deal of influence with her brother. She is with him frequently and takes an active interest in public affairs. She has been a widow since 1858, and really has been a mother to him. They were born of the same mother, a Circassian slave, who lost her life in giving him birth, and hence they have naturally been very much attached to each other. The other brothers and sisters are the children of different wives of his father. As previously stated, all children born in the harem, whether of free women or of slaves, are legitimate and of equal rank; but, by the law of succession, the crown is inherited by the senior male descendant of Othman, the founder of the present dynasty in 1299. Therefore, so long as he has any brothers living, the children of Abdul Hamid will not come to the throne.

The Princess Senieh Sultana, another sister of Abdul Hamid, is about fifty years old, and the widow of Mahmoud Pasha, who was the leader of the “Young Turkey” party and for years an active advocate of its principles, regardless of his near relationship to the Sultan. His conspiracies, if they may be called such, were always carried on directly under the eyes of the Sultan, and of course were very offensive to him. Mahmoud was a good man, judged by our standard, but a great traitor and an unpardonable villain from the Turkish point of view. He was educated in France and England, where he imbibed liberal ideas, and, returning to Turkey, married the Sultan’s sister and introduced into his own family many of the customs and ideas which he had acquired in western Europe.

Being anxious that his sons should have a liberal education, he sent them to Robert College, the American Presbyterian Institution on the Bosphorus, just beyond the Sultan’s palace, which was founded there half a century ago by the munificence of Mr. Robert, an American merchant. Mahmoud Pasha himself went to arrange for the education of his boys, and as there were reasons why he did not wish them to form intimacies with the ordinary students, he persuaded Dr. Washburn, the president of the institution, to take them into his own family.

The boys remained there just two days. On the evening of the second day an aide-de-camp of the Sultan summoned them to his presence. They were conducted to Yildiz Kiosk, where they had an interview with him, and were offered commissions in the army. The Sultan told their father that they must be educated according to Turkish ideas and in the Moslem religion. “We have been educated by Turkish scholars, selected by our father, who was a wise and learned man,” he said, “and such an education is good enough for your sons, instead of sending them to be taught by Christian giaours (infidels).” The boys took commissions in the army, but a few months later surrendered them and went to Paris, where they have since resided. By an official edict of the Sultan they have been degraded from their princely rank, cashiered from the army, banished from Constantinople permanently and their allowances cut off. In 1901 their father was also formally banished after he had fled from the city to escape arrest and execution. For several months his whereabouts were unknown. He was then discovered to be living quietly at Corfu, one of the Greek islands. Being compelled to leave there he went to Rome, Geneva, and afterward to Brussels where he died January 17, 1903. His wife, the Princess Senieh Sultana, is supposed to be imprisoned somewhere among the many palaces of the Sultan, to prevent her from joining her sons, as she is known to sympathize with their liberal views.

An elder sister, the Princess Fatma Sultana, died insane in 1892, and the aberration of her mind was a serious shock to the Sultan, who dreads insanity as much as he dreads death—perhaps more. She was the wife of a military adventurer, Nouri Damad Pasha, who was sent into exile and afterward assassinated on suspicion.

The youngest member of the family, the Princess Medie Sultana, is a woman of quiet disposition, about forty years of age, who lives in absolute retirement, and is unknown to the foreign colony of Constantinople. Her husband is Ferid Pasha, an inoffensive but respectable army officer.

Two or three members of the immediate family of the Sultan have given him much trouble, and it is from his own household that he fears most. He trusts nobody. He reigns alone. His ministers are merely his instruments and very few of them have any influence with him, although, of course, he is compelled to depend upon them to carry out his orders and to furnish him information.

Abdul Hamid has ten children—Mehemmed Selim, born 1870; Abdul Kidir, born 1878; Ahmed, born 1878; Mehemmed Burhan, born 1885; Abdur Rahim, born 1892. Zekie, his eldest daughter, born 1871, was married in 1889 to Nur-ed-din Pasha, who occupies a high position in the military department; Naime, a second daughter, born 1876, is the wife of Mehemmed Kemal, another army officer. There are three other daughters—Naile, born 1884; Shadieh, born 1886, and Ayisheh, born 1887.

So far as I was able to find out, the Sultan’s sons are decent fellows, although their horizon is very narrow. None of them have been permitted to travel, as he does not wish them to see anything of the world for fear of weakening their faith in their religion and their confidence in the form of government he maintains. Their education has been intrusted to military officers and Moslem priests, and they will probably turn out as narrow, bigoted and superstitious as their father.

Prince Selim, the eldest son, is more respected than any other member of the family. The fact that there are several lives between him and the throne gives him greater freedom than he would otherwise enjoy. He was born in January, 1870, and is, therefore, thirty-three years old. He has only one wife and keeps no harem, which is a surprising exception in the imperial family. He holds the rank of colonel in the army, and commands one of the regiments of the palace guards. His duties are light, however, and leave him plenty of leisure, which he spends in study with French and German tutors, although I understand that his French tutors were recently dismissed by command of the Sultan, because they were suspected of giving the young man dangerous information. Prince Selim is not intellectual, however; his mind is said to be rather dull, but he is patient and studious and has a retentive memory, which is perhaps better for a man of his position than more brilliant attainments.

Some years ago Prince Selim incurred the enmity of his father because of the use of disrespectful language, and was banished to Bagdad for several months, but was allowed to return to Constantinople under the surveillance of Kiazim Pasha, his maternal uncle, who has the confidence of the Sultan. The relations between the prince and his father have never been fully restored, and there is no confidence between them; but the prince receives a liberal allowance and is allowed to do practically as he pleases, although he is surrounded by spies and is not permitted to leave the city. He seems to be very fond of his wife, who is the daughter of one of the pashas about the court, and of his only child, a little girl now twelve years old.

Ahmed, the third son, who is twenty-four years old, is his father’s favorite, and is studying military tactics under one of the most successful of Turkish generals. He is destined to be commander of the army. Burhan Eddin, who is seventeen years old, is also a favorite and has considerable musical talent. The Sultan frequently introduces him to foreign visitors, and has him perform for them upon the piano. When Emperor William of Germany was visiting Constantinople, the young prince was detailed as one of his attendants, and the members of the Kaiser’s suite took a great fancy to him. He was then only about fourteen years old, but was quite mature, and conducted himself with great dignity. All the princes are educated by French and German tutors.

The Sultan is very liberal toward his family. He is absolute master of the finances of the empire. He is not required to prepare a budget or report his expenditures. The public money belongs to him and he directs its disbursement. He gives each one of his brothers and sisters a palace fully furnished and equipped, and all their household expenses are paid from the imperial treasury. In addition to this each one of them has an allowance of $5,000 a month for pin money. But Abdul Hamid is much more economical than Abdul Aziz, his predecessor, who squandered more than $100,000,000 during his reign without a thing to show for it, and piled up a debt so big that it can never be paid. The public bonds now outstanding amount to over $750,000,000, and the revenues of the government can scarcely pay the interest. The finances of Turkey, like those of other bankrupts, are controlled by a committee representing the foreign bondholders, who receive from the treasury a certain amount of money every month and distribute it among the creditors of the nation.

A Constantinople physician who has had abundant opportunities for studying his case, told me that Abdul Hamid is a victim of neurasthenia, a nervous disease which is a form of insanity, and that his psychological condition presents a most interesting problem, for his symptoms are complex and vary materially from time to time. He is naturally very intelligent, but, living in continual terror of assassination, being afflicted with chronic insomnia, and having a naturally suspicious nature abnormally developed, he has become a monomaniac on the subject of self-preservation. His disposition is gentle, and if he had lived like an ordinary man he might have escaped the disease from which he suffers almost continual agony; but his mistrust of everyone around him has become chronic, and he has developed a cunning that is never at a loss for expedients.

He sleeps only two or three hours out of the twenty-four, and then only when somebody is reading to him, or some orchestra or musician is performing in the adjoining room. Darkness frightens him. Therefore a light is always kept burning in his chamber, and Ismet Bey, grand master of the imperial wardrobe, always sleeps in the same room. Ismet Bey is his foster brother, and probably possesses his confidence more fully than any other man. Because he resembles the Sultan so closely in appearance, it is believed among the gossips of Constantinople that he often impersonates His Majesty at ceremonies and on other occasions where the latter is likely to be exposed to the danger of assassination.

Ismet Bey carries the keys to his desk, his wardrobe and his treasury caskets, and is perhaps trusted farther and knows more secrets than any other man about the palace; but he has no influence whatever with the Sultan and would not attempt to exercise it if he did, for it would be fatal to him. By a lifetime of devotion, as unselfish as any Turk can render, he has demonstrated his loyalty and disinterestedness.

The Sultan is always restless and is awakened at the slightest sound. When he awakes he always wants somebody to talk to, and Elias Bey, second officer of the wardrobe, or Faik Bey, one of his confidential secretaries, is usually at hand for that purpose. The Sultan sleeps in a detached chamber, surrounded by corridors on all four sides, and it is a popular impression that the walls are of steel. Four or five sentinels slowly pace the corridors during the entire night, and if the regular measure of their footsteps is interrupted the Sultan will waken and inquire the cause. In addition to this guard an officer sits at each corner of the corridor, where he can see both ways. In order to prevent a conspiracy, a detail for this purpose is made from among the subalterns of the different regiments about the palace every night. The names are drawn by lot a few moments before the hour and no one knows of his selection until he receives orders to report. These officers have watches of four hours each, coming on duty at sunset and remaining until sunrise. The Sultan is such a light sleeper that he awakens every time the guard is changed.

He is extremely fond of music, and when restless, his orchestra, which is under the direction of Dussap Pasha, is required to play all night, or until orders are sent to relieve them. His Majesty is also fond of theatrical and vaudeville performances and similar diversions, finding them a relief from his perpetual fears. A theater connected with the palace has two troupes of well-paid actors for dramatic and musical performances. One of them is composed of Turkish and the other of French and Italian artists. Foreign actresses and opera singers who visit Constantinople are always anxious to appear before His Majesty, because they not only receive liberal compensation from the master of ceremonies, but, if they happen to please, His Majesty is sure to present them with valuable jewels. Few people except members of the imperial family are permitted to attend these performances. When the Sultan invites one of the ambassadors, as he sometimes does, it is considered a mark of unusual distinction.

The Sultan’s dress is extremely simple and free from extravagance. He wears a military uniform and a campaign cloak such as is worn by the ordinary officers of the army. His jewels, however, are unsurpassed by any of the sovereigns of Europe. When His Majesty requires a new suit of clothes Ismet Bey, his foster brother, is used as a model by the tailor, as he and the Sultan are almost of the same size.

His diet is also very simple. He eats very little, of the plainest food, and never touches wine nor liquors of any kind, but consumes enormous quantities of coffee, which aggravates his nervousness. Up to a few years ago a servant with a coffee pot always followed him when he went out for exercise, and while driving in the park coffee stations were placed at frequent intervals, where he could stop and refresh himself. By the advice of his physicians he now limits himself to five or six cups of his favorite beverage a day, and it is said that he has himself noticed an improvement in his health. He is not so nervous and sleeps better. General Porter, the American ambassador to Paris, told me of a dinner at the Yildiz Kiosk, when the Sultan ate little but American corn bread and soup. His meals are cooked separately from those served to his family and guests, and the same man always prepares them in a little room, like a laboratory, not bigger than an ordinary bathroom. During their preparation an inspector always watches the cook for fear of poison. The food purchased for the Sultan’s use is kept in a huge safe to which his private chef alone has the key. Eggs and milk are the principal articles of his diet. He seldom touches meat, but at dinner usually has one or two vegetables.

Not being able to sleep, the Sultan does not retire before midnight, and is always up by 4:30 or 5 o’clock in the morning, when he puts on a long silken robe, takes a cup of coffee, smokes a few cigarettes and reads his correspondence. About seven o’clock he takes a bath, and then a breakfast of eggs and rolls and more coffee. At one o’clock his luncheon is served, which is seldom more than a crust of bread and a glass of milk—perhaps a small omelet. Although he takes his breakfast and luncheon alone, his dinners are always served with great ceremony. His younger sons, several of his secretaries and usually two or three of his ministers dine with him. The list of his guests is usually made out by the grand chamberlain of the palace and submitted to His Majesty’s approval. The dinner is served at eight o’clock in French style, with liveried attendants and an orchestra in the balcony of the state dining-room, which is a gorgeous apartment. As a formality each course is placed before the Sultan by the chief butler before it is served to his guests, although he never touches it himself, his own food being brought from his private kitchen by his personal attendant. Sometimes he dines in his harem, where his sisters and wives and daughters receive him with great ceremony.

Yildiz, the park in which the palace is situated, is a veritable city, with a population of nearly 5,000, including the members of the official staff and their families, the women of the harem, their slaves and eunuchs, the princes and sultanas, with their households and servants, the chambermaids, aides-de-camp, the imperial guard, which consists of several regiments, musicians, clerks, gardeners, grooms, valets, domestics and other employés, including a number of masons, carpenters and other mechanics. The Sultan has a machine-shop for the repair of machinery used upon the place, an arsenal, which contains several thousand stands of arms for both sport and war, and samples of all patents and styles. He has also a very rich collection of antique oriental arms.

One of His Majesty’s fads is the manufacture of porcelain. He has recently set up a factory in the park and imported a number of French artists, who are making placques and other ornaments. He is fond of wild animals and has quite an interesting zoölogical garden, with one of the best kennels of dogs in the world.

I was informed by a high authority in Constantinople that the Sultan pays $500,000 annually as subsidies to newspapers in Vienna, Berlin, Paris and other cities of Europe to defend him and his acts and create public sentiment in his favor. After the Armenian massacres, a few years ago, he distributed more than $1,000,000 among the newspapers that treated him kindly. Notwithstanding his self-enforced seclusion, he is as familiar with European affairs as any man on the continent, and scarcely anything that appears in print of importance or interest concerning him or his empire fails to meet his eye. His ambassadors and ministers at the different capitals are instructed to secure all press clippings that relate to Turkey and forward them to a central information bureau in Constantinople, where they are classified, translated and arranged for the Sultan’s inspection. He spends a great deal of time reading them and frequently receives important suggestions and information from them.

I was repeatedly warned that every newspaper letter I wrote from Turkey would be read by the Sultan personally. Missionaries and others from whom I obtained information frequently asked me not to publish certain things, because the Sultan was certain to see them and trace them to their source. One gentleman, in giving me an account of a certain enterprise, remarked: “I wish you would say that the Sultan takes a great interest in our affairs. It will do you no harm and will do us a great deal of good, for he is certain to see your letter and will be pleased.”

The largest sums of money expended in purchasing the good opinion of the press are expended in Germany and France, for the Kaiser is the Sultan’s best friend and most reliable supporter, and he is pleased when the German newspapers approve his policy.

Although the censorship in Turkey is very strict, the Sultan is a thorough believer in the usefulness and importance of the press, and in 1886 conceived the idea of founding a great national journal, to be published in the Turkish and French languages and to be for Turkey what the London Times is to Great Britain. He appointed a committee of five of his ministers and secretaries to formulate a plan and prepare estimates of the cost, but when he received a report and found how expensive a luxury his proposed newspaper would be, he abandoned the idea.