CHAPTER IV

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CONSTANTINOPLE AND LORD PONSONBY. 1840.

Colonel Hodges had been hospitable and very kindly disposed towards me, but I hailed with pleasure the day when I embarked—in an Austrian steamer, in consequence of relations being broken off with Mehemet Ali—to proceed to Beyrout and thence to Constantinople, to join the Embassy.

At Beyrout, where I spent a few hours, I went on board the flag-ship of Admiral Sir Charles Napier, where I heard it was decided to attack Acre, and that a battle was impending between the army of Ibrahim Pasha, and the Turkish and British troops commanded by General Smith.

On arrival at Constantinople, I presented myself to Lord Ponsonby, who, after listening to the tidings I brought, directed me to address him a dispatch reporting all I had related to his Excellency; adding, that I must lose no time in preparing it, as he was about to dispatch a messenger overland to England.

Never having written a dispatch in my life, though I had corresponded privately on passing events in Egypt with members of the Embassy at Constantinople and the Foreign Office, I felt very nervous—especially as the report was required immediately by his Excellency. Half-an-hour after my interview with Lord Ponsonby, while I was still writing, the late Percy Doyle, then first attaché, came in with a message from the Ambassador to request that my report should be brought to his Excellency at once. I said the draft was not quite finished, and that I wished to copy it out.

Doyle answered he must take it up at once to his Excellency, so, after I had scribbled the few lines that remained, without allowing me even to read it over, he carried it off. I waited for some time for his return and then, to my dismay, he announced that Lord Ponsonby had read my draft, and, as there was no time to have it copied, had enclosed it, as it was, in a dispatch to Lord Palmerston. It was published in the Blue Book, with other dispatches on Eastern affairs.

It was in this year, when a victory had been gained over the Egyptian army in Syria by the combined British and Turkish forces, that a number of trophies in flags, banners, &c., were sent by General Smith and Admiral Sir Charles Napier, who commanded the British forces, to the Ambassador to present to the Sultan.

A day having been fixed for the audience, Lord Ponsonby prepared the speech he proposed to deliver, and directed Mr. Frederick Pisani, Chief Dragoman of the Embassy, to write out a translation into the Turkish language, and to learn it by heart. He was instructed not to pay any attention to Lord Ponsonby’s utterances during the audience, but, when requested by his Excellency, he was to repeat the prepared speech, and subsequently the replies, which had likewise been prepared in answer to the Sultan’s language, of which his Excellency was able to guess the purport. Lord Ponsonby gave these directions, as he knew that Mr. Pisani was a nervous man, and might find it difficult on such an occasion to render the Ambassador’s language adequately into eloquent and polite Turkish, if not prepared beforehand.

The Ambassador and members of the Embassy in uniform, with numerous kavasses, proceeded in the state kaik from Therapia to the Sultan’s palace.

To each attaché a banner or flag was given, to carry for presentation at the audience. To me was allotted a Turkish banner, on a very long pole, with crescent and spear.

All the ministers and other dignitaries of the Porte were assembled at the palace, and stood in two lines on each side of the Sultan, as the Ambassador and suite entered the reception hall.

Keeping my eyes fixed upon the Sultan as I entered, I lowered unwittingly the pole and banner, which were very heavy, and nearly carried off on the spear the fez of one of the ministers. This ‘gaucherie’ produced a suppressed giggle from an attaché.

The scene that followed was very ludicrous, especially as Lord Ponsonby had not warned the members of the Embassy of the nature of the address he was about to deliver, or of the instructions he had given to Mr. Pisani. Advancing with great dignity near to where the Sultan stood, and putting out occasionally his hand as an orator might do, Lord Ponsonby commenced with a very grave expression of countenance, counting ‘one, two, three, four, five,’ &c., up to fifty, occasionally modulating his voice, as if he desired to make an impression upon the minds of his hearers, putting emphasis upon some numbers, and smiling with satisfaction and pleasure when he reached the higher numbers of thirty up to forty. Of course his Excellency knew that the Sultan, his ministers, and other officials at the Court were not acquainted with the English language.

On concluding, he turned to the interpreter and motioned him to speak. Mr. Pisani recited in very eloquent and flowery Turkish the Ambassador’s prepared speech.

When Lord Ponsonby commenced the enumeration, I hid my face behind the banner, and pinched myself sharply, to check the outburst of laughter which inwardly convulsed me.

The Sultan replied, expressing his sense of gratitude to the British Government, his thanks to the British naval and military forces and their Commanders, as also to the Ambassador. This Mr. Pisani translated. Then Lord Ponsonby commenced again to count from sixty upwards, pausing now and then as if dwelling upon particular numbers, which by his voice and gesture it would appear he desired especially to impress on H.I.M.’s mind.

Mr. Pisani again repeated the language which he had been desired to prepare.

The trophies were handed over to Turkish officers appointed by the Sultan to receive them, and the Ambassador and his suite retired.

Not one of the Turkish officers present during the audience appeared to have the slightest suspicion of what was taking place, and even if they had subsequently learnt that the Ambassador had counted instead of making a speech, they would have comprehended that the desire of his Excellency was that his prepared speech should be clearly and properly translated by the interpreter on such an interesting occasion.

It was at this time that Bosco, famed for sleight of hand and magic art, visited the Turkish capital; and Lord Ponsonby—who never went out at night, not even to a dinner or reception at other Embassies—being desirous of witnessing the performance of this renowned magician, invited Bosco, who was a gentleman by birth, to dinner to meet a large party, requesting that he would entertain the company after dinner by his marvellous sleight of hand.

Bosco arrived a little time before dinner was announced. The room was crowded, and he was introduced and entered into conversation with several of the guests. During dinner he was quiet and unassuming, and did not take part in the general conversation; but just as Lady Ponsonby was preparing to move, Bosco rose and, turning to the Ambassador, said, ‘I beg your Excellency’s permission to say a few words before the company leave the table. It has been a high honour to have been invited by your Excellency to dine in company with such distinguished men and noble ladies; but I feel that it would be an act of ingratitude on my part were I to conceal from your Excellency proceedings which have been passing both before and during dinner, and which have come to my knowledge through the extraordinary gift of vision I possess, and the faculty of perception of the acts and movements of those around me. Humble individual as I am, I have no hesitation in declaring that the very unusual proceedings in which certain persons in this society have taken part might reflect, in some degree, upon all present—even upon myself, a poor conjurer, who has been thrown into their company—should it be known that I have associated with gentlemen and ladies, whose conduct might be stigmatised as criminal!’

He spoke thus with such a grave countenance that even Lord Ponsonby seemed puzzled, and thought the man was demented.

Bosco continued, ‘Your Lordship cannot but admit that the grave charge I have put forward is not without foundation, when I declare that in the coat pockets, or the breasts of the waistcoats, of several of the gentlemen there will be found some of your Lordship’s silver spoons—and the selection has not been confined to the clean alone.’

The guests put their hands into their pockets, from which they extracted spoons and forks still greasy from use, salt spoons, tops of cruets, &c. Great merriment ensued, especially on the part of the ladies at the expense of the unfortunate men who were thus proved to be guilty.

Then Bosco, turning to some ladies who were on the opposite side of the table, and with whom he had been holding a lively conversation before dinner, said, ‘That noble lady,’ indicating one, ‘ought hardly to laugh at the disclosure I have made, since it will be found that she has secreted in the bodice of her dress the bouquet of one of the gentlemen, who has since been making a vain search for it, having possibly received the pretty flowers from another fair hand.’

The lady flushed up angrily; but, in searching, found the lost bouquet concealed in the folds of her dress.

Then turning to another, he said, ‘Madame, you cannot be justified in speaking, as it appears to me I have heard you doing, regarding the gentlemen who took possession of his Lordship’s spoons, when you will find, concealed in your hair, an ornament which rightfully belongs to that lady upon whose person sparkle so many beautiful jewels.’

The ornament in question was found fixed in the hair of the accused.

In the evening, Bosco explained the extraordinary gift he possessed of sleight of hand and of his being able—while calling the attention of the person, with whom he was conversing, to some indifferent object or otherwise distracting attention—to abstract, by an instantaneous and almost imperceptible movement, some ornament from their person and again to be able to place, or cast it with precision, wherever he desired. He also explained the trick which many have of shuffling cards, so that when dealing at whist or écarté, &c., he could put into his own hand or that of others the cards he pleased. He added that, though possessing this extraordinary faculty from boyhood, he had never taken advantage of it in a dishonest or unworthy manner except when, as quite a youth, he desired to go to Paris to make his way in the world as a conjurer, and his father, a poor gentleman, had not been able to give him more than a few gold pieces wherewith to defray the expenses of his journey. He described how he had started with his knapsack from some town in Austria, occasionally travelling by diligence, and passing the nights at inns on the road. During the journey, Bosco said, he frequently had a gold piece changed, and whilst the change was being delivered he managed to recover the gold coin, and thus arrived at Paris with sufficient means to enable him to live until he found employment. ‘Since then,’ he added, ‘I have been an honest man.’

Other recollections of those days follow.

Lord and Lady Londonderry arrived at Constantinople and called on the Ambassador, and Lady Londonderry requested his Excellency to present her to the Sultan.

As the presentation of a European lady to H.I.M. had never been heard of in those days, Lord Ponsonby declined to take steps to meet the wishes of the fair lady, on the plea that such an unprecedented request might give annoyance to the Sultan. Lady Londonderry was, however, determined to gain her point, and also to show Lord Ponsonby that if he had not sufficient influence to obtain such a special favour from the Sultan, another Representative might be found who would pay more attention to her wishes.

Lady Londonderry had made the acquaintance at Vienna of Baron Stummer, the Austrian Ambassador at Constantinople, who, though he had not the powerful influence which Lord Ponsonby then enjoyed, was regarded by the Sultan and his Ministers as a very important personage to whose wishes it was politic and advisable to attend.

Lady Londonderry made known her request to the Baron, who at first demurred for the same reason as Lord Ponsonby; but pressed by the fair dame—who pleaded that she only asked for a private interview with the Sultan—and knowing that Lord Londonderry held a high position in his own country, he promised to mention her wishes to Reshid Pasha, who was at that time Minister for Foreign Affairs and spoke French fluently, to ascertain whether it was possible that such an extraordinary favour could be granted by H.I.M.

Reshid Pasha raised many objections; but being most desirous to please the Austrian Ambassador, he informed him that there was one possible way by which the lady could be brought very privately into the presence of His Majesty. He had heard, he said, that the noble lady travelled with untold wealth in diamonds, &c.: the Sultan was passionately fond of jewelry, of which he made frequent purchases; and possibly His Majesty might consent, on learning that there was a person in Constantinople who had a large assortment of jewels, that she should be allowed to bring them herself to the Palace. Should His Majesty consent, the Pasha informed the Baron, no one but himself (Reshid) and Lady Londonderry would be present at the interview with the Sultan, and in such case he would act as interpreter.

Reshid Pasha having made known to the Sultan that a person had arrived at Constantinople with a wonderful collection of most valuable jewelry, asked whether His Majesty would like to see them.

The following conversation is said to have taken place:—

_Sultan._ ‘Let the jewelry be brought and prices stated.’

_Reshid._ ‘This individual never trusts the jewelry to any one, and would have to come in person.’

_Sultan._ ‘Bring the jeweller.’

_Reshid_ (in a hesitating manner). ‘I beg your Majesty’s pardon for indelicacy, but it is—it is—a female[4], and she always carries the jewels on her person when she wishes to dispose of them for sale, and never puts them in a case.’

_Sultan._ ‘Bring her, and let her put them all on. You come also, to interpret.’

Reshid returned and told the Baron he might inform Lady Londonderry that she would be presented at a private audience by him, but that the Sultan, having heard of the fame of her jewelry, had particularly requested she would put it all on, and he, the Pasha, hoped therefore she would raise no objection to such a strange request.

Lady Londonderry was very good-natured, and being much amused at the condition made by the Sultan, consented to put on all her most valuable jewelry.

On arrival at the Palace, Reshid Pasha conducted Lady Londonderry into the presence of the Sultan. Her dress glittered with diamonds, pearls, turquoises, and other precious stones.

‘_Pekkei_—good,’ said the Sultan (as Lady Londonderry curtseyed), ‘she has brought magnificent jewels.’

_Reshid_ (turning to the lady). ‘His Majesty graciously bids you welcome.’

Lady Londonderry bowed and expressed her thanks in French.

_Reshid_ (interpreting). ‘She says she has other jewelry, but could not put on all.’

_Sultan._ ‘Ask her what is the price of that diamond necklace.’

_Reshid._ ‘His Majesty inquires whether this is your first visit to Constantinople.’

_Lady Londonderry._ ‘It is my first visit, and I am delighted with all I have seen.’

_Reshid_ (_to Sultan_). ‘She asks a million of piastres.’

_Sultan._ ‘That is too much.’

_Reshid_ (_to Lady Londonderry_). ‘His Majesty asks whether you have seen the Mosques. If not, offers you a firman.’

Lady Londonderry expresses her thanks.

_Sultan._ ‘What price does she put on that set of turquoises?’

_Reshid_ (_to Lady Londonderry_). ‘His Majesty says that perhaps you would like to take a walk in the garden.’

Lady Londonderry expresses her thanks, and would like to see the garden.

_Reshid_ (_to Sultan_). ‘She says 400,000 piastres.’

_Sultan._ ‘Take her away, I shall not give such prices.’

_Reshid_ (_to Lady Londonderry_). ‘His Majesty graciously expresses satisfaction at having made your acquaintance.’

Lady Londonderry curtseys low and withdraws from His Majesty’s presence to visit the garden with the amiable and courteous Reshid Pasha.

* * * * *

In the summer months at Constantinople, Turkish ladies and their children were wont to drive in ‘arabas’ to the ‘Sweet Waters.’ Groups of Mohammedan women of the better class, with their families and slaves, were to be seen in picturesque dresses reclining on carpets and cushions, enjoying coffee, sweetmeats, &c., under the shade of the fine old trees on this beautiful spot. Men were not allowed to approach the ground where the women were seated. Kavasses warned off intruders; but the members of Embassies, especially when accompanied by a kavass, were not interfered with, even if they walked near the groups of women.

Turkish ladies in those days wore the ‘yashmak’ or veil, supposed to cover their faces, but worn so low as frequently to expose even the mouth, and at the ‘Sweet Waters’ yashmaks were thrown aside still more, thus displaying embroidered jackets, bright-coloured belts, and silk or cotton ‘shalvas.’ Turkish women, even the far-famed Circassians, are not in general pretty, but they have fine eyes and a piquant expression.

When passing these groups of ladies, I have often heard humorous remarks, evidently intended to reach the ears of the unabashed ‘Frank’ who had ventured to intrude amongst them.

One evening, when taking a walk, I had wandered to a secluded spot, when I suddenly came upon two Turkish ladies and a slave taking coffee. One of the ladies looked up and smiled, making some remark to her companion, evidently about myself, the purport of which I did not quite understand. I merely returned the smile and walked hurriedly away, for the dinner-hour at the Embassy was approaching. I had gone but a short distance when I heard some one running up behind me. On turning round I was accosted by an old black woman, who, in a breathless voice, said, ‘Khanem’ (my mistress), ‘whom you have just passed, requests that you will give her a pin for her dress.’

As I happened to have a pin, I was about to hand it to the slave, when she said, ‘Khanem wishes you to bring it to her;’ adding, in a whisper, ‘there is no one near, and she has something to say to you.’

Looking at my watch, I replied it was late, and requested her to tell her mistress that I was sorry I could not comply with her request, adding, ‘Tell me, who is your beautiful khanem?’

The slave replied, ‘She is the wife of the late Sultan Mahmud’s dwarf.’

I had already heard something about this lady, but having a vivid recollection of a late adventure of Baron B., a member of a foreign Legation and a particular friend of mine, whom I had helped out of a serious scrape where his life had been in great danger, and who had been obliged to quit Constantinople suddenly (having been given to understand that unless he left the country his recall would be required by the Turkish Government), I made up my mind not to satisfy my curiosity by seeking for an interview with the fair Circassian.

The next day, I requested a Turkish police officer of high rank, who had aided me in helping Baron B. out of the scrape to which I have alluded, to tell me what he knew about the wife of the dwarf, not mentioning, however, the incident which had occurred at the ‘Sweet Waters.’

The officer then related the following tale:—

‘Sultan Mahmud had a humpbacked dwarf, with a hideous countenance, but who was renowned for wit and humour. This monster was frequently admitted by the Sultan into the harem when H.M. was seated with his odalisques enjoying the “chebúk.”

‘To please the ladies, the dwarf was made a constant butt, both by H.I.M. and the odalisques, and he answered them by his gibes and ready repartee: having full permission to say what he pleased, even should he cast reflections on H.I.M.’s sacred person.

‘Amongst the odalisques who happened to be present one evening, was a tall Circassian of great beauty, with a graceful figure. She was very lively, and in order to amuse the Sultan, had made pert remarks about the admirable figure and handsome countenance of the dwarf, thus giving rise to much merriment, in which the Sultan Mahmud joined. Turning to the dwarf, H.I.M. said, “Now if you can kiss Leila (the tall Circassian) she shall be your wife.”

‘The dwarf replied, “Can a dog reach the moon? Can a bramble entwine the top of the lofty cypress?”

‘The Circassian continued to make fun of the dwarf, who appeared to take no further thought of the Sultan’s words, though it was observed he kept his eye on her tall figure.

‘Later in the evening, when the pipe which the Sultan was smoking had to be renewed, Leila bent down for that purpose. In a moment the dwarf, watching his opportunity, sprang up and kissed her as she stooped. She struck him, and, in a volley of violent and passionate language, implored the Sultan to punish him for his insolence and outrage.

‘The dwarf exclaimed, “The Commander of the Faithful, the Sultan of Sultans, has spoken. His word cannot be broken. I claim Leila for my wife.”

‘The Sultan looked displeased; and, after a pause, with a severe expression on his countenance, ordered the dwarf to leave the room; then, turning to Leila, said, “Retire. Henceforth consider yourself the wife of the dwarf. A dowry shall be given you, and the wedding shall forthwith take place. Depart from my presence. I see you no more.”

‘The Circassian, as she left the room, turned towards the dwarf, who was also about to withdraw, and cursed him, saying, “Monster! The day will come when you will rue and bitterly repent your cruel treachery.”

‘Leila duly became the wife of the dwarf. She drove about in her “araba” through the streets of Pera, and, wearing a transparent “yashmak” lowered to the chin, even entered the shops, and conversed—when not observed—with Europeans. She visited the studio of a French artist, by whom her portrait was painted in water-colours, and of which she allowed copies to be taken to present to favourite Franks with whom she became acquainted. Her conduct became a source of great scandal, and was brought under the notice of the Sultan.

‘H.I.M. said, “Let her be free to do what she pleases. I committed a great injustice in giving her to the dwarf; but my word could not be set aside.”’

The police officer having thus concluded his story, I inquired where the French artist lived, and, calling on him, offered to purchase a copy of the portrait. He told me he could not give it without the consent of the wife of the dwarf. I then requested him to let her know that the ‘Frank,’ one of the British Secretaries, of whom she had requested the gift of a pin at the ‘Sweet Waters,’ begged for her portrait. Her consent was thereupon given, on condition that I should not show it to any one in Constantinople.

I paid a round sum for the water-colour, and on my return to England, after Lord Ponsonby had resigned the post of Ambassador, I gave the portrait of the beautiful Circassian to Lady Ponsonby—from whom I had received great kindness—as a souvenir of Constantinople.

* * * * *

Very extraordinary hours were kept at the Embassy: we rarely sat down to dinner before 9.30, and frequently not till ten p.m. At eleven o’clock Lord and Lady Ponsonby had a rubber of whist in which I was always required to take a hand, it being thought I knew more about the game than the other members of the Embassy. As his Excellency required that Lady Ponsonby should be his partner, and as that charming lady knew very little about the game, they almost invariably lost.

After whist, Lord Ponsonby was wont to request one of the attachés to remain and converse, and his Excellency would then hold forth for hours upon events present and future, both in Turkey and Egypt; foretelling much that has since happened to the ‘Sick Man.’ One night, when it was my watch, and I had listened to his Lordship until I nearly fell asleep and was conscious that dawn was approaching, he rose, opened one of the blinds and said, ‘The sun is rising. I think it is time, Mr. Hay, to go to bed. Have you followed and understood my views upon the Eastern Question?’ I answered, I had, to the best of my ability. ‘Then,’ said he, ‘have the goodness to embody to-morrow in a memorandum all that you may have retained.’ Observing that I looked aghast at having such a task imposed upon me, he patted me on the shoulder and added, ‘Well, well, don’t trouble yourself. Eat, drink, and sleep; the rest’s a joke.’

There was great charm in the manner of both Lord and Lady Ponsonby, and they showed much kindness to all the members of the Embassy. There was not one of us who would not have been ready to make any sacrifice of time and pleasure to meet their wishes.

Lord Ponsonby was not a wealthy peer, but his expenditure was lavish as far as the table was concerned. Briant, a Frenchman, was steward and head cook, and his wife was maid to Lady Ponsonby. They received £400 a year between them for their services, but it was well known by the members of the Embassy that Briant, during the few years he had been at Constantinople, had been enabled to deposit several thousand pounds in one of the banks at Pera, levying a heavy percentage on everything that he purchased, wine included, and some of which it was discovered he was in the habit of selling to an hotel in Pera; so when any member of the Embassy passed a night in the town and dined at the said hotel, he always called for ‘Chateau Briant’! An old friend of Lord Ponsonby’s, who remained for some months on a visit at the Embassy, hearing of the scandalous manner in which Briant was accumulating money at the bank, thought it would be a friendly act to make known to his Lordship that which was in the mouth of every one—Briant’s system of peculation. He did so. Lord Ponsonby thanked him for the information and observed, ‘How much do you think Briant robs annually and deposits in the bank?’

‘At least £1000 a year,’ his friend replied.

‘Pray,’ said Lord Ponsonby, ‘pray keep what has passed between us most secret; I had thought Briant’s pilferings far exceeded that sum. I would not, for double that amount, lose such an excellent chef. Keep it secret, Mr. ———, keep it secret!’

Though he may not have possessed the brilliant talents of his successor, the great ‘Elchi,’ Lord Ponsonby acted with much energy, decision, and success in carrying out the views which he knew were entertained by that most admirable of statesmen, Lord Palmerston, regarding the Turkish Empire at the time when Mehemet Ali, backed by France, was seeking to declare his independence, and to place Egypt under the aegis of the latter power; to attain which object has been, and is, the aim of France even up to the present day.

The Sultan, Abdul Mijid, and his Minister, Reshid Pasha, accepted thankfully and unreservedly the dictum of Lord Ponsonby in all questions—and as long as Palmerston was at the head of foreign affairs, Lord Ponsonby carried out his views in the East without a check, notwithstanding the vigorous opposition made by the French Ambassador, Monsieur Pontet, and the constant threat that extreme measures would be adopted by France under certain contingencies; but when Lord Aberdeen came into power and sought to pursue a conciliatory policy towards France, Lord Ponsonby received dispatches, couched in a spirit which pointed out distinctly that he should moderate his action in support of the Sultan against Mehemet Ali’s pretensions. From private letters that Lord Ponsonby received from friends at home, he knew more or less what was the tenor of the instructions contained in those dispatches, so he did not break the seals but continued to follow up vigorously the same policy as before, until the object he had in view, viz., Mehemet Ali’s submission to the Porte, was achieved, and then Lord Ponsonby retired, or was required to retire.

It happened one day that I was standing near the Ambassador at his writing-table whilst he was giving me directions to convey a message to an Armenian banker of the Porte, upon a monetary question affecting the interests of the Turkish Government. He pulled open the drawer of the table at which he was seated to get out a paper, and I caught a glimpse of several sealed dispatches, addressed to his Excellency, from the Foreign Office. Lord Ponsonby, whilst closing the drawer, perceiving, as I suppose, an expression of surprise on my face, looked up with a smile, and re-opening the drawer, said, ‘You are astonished, Mr. Hay, at seeing such a number of Foreign Office dispatches lying here unopened: so am I!—for though I had certainly left in this drawer a few sealed letters, they have since been breeding;’ adding, whilst he re-closed the drawer, ‘Let them breed!’

Those were days when an Ambassador possessed extraordinary powers, and could carry out a policy which he considered best for the interests of his country, without allowing himself to be fettered by the vacillating views of Government and be moved—as now happens—like a puppet, by telegraph wires or other rapid means of communication.

In pursuance of instructions received from Lord Ponsonby, I called on the Armenian banker, before mentioned, at his private dwelling. This was a beautiful house, fitted up in the same manner as was then usual with Turks, for the Armenians of Constantinople at that time adopted the Turkish mode of living. The Armenian women veiled their faces and wore costumes similar to those of the Mohammedans, except that their slippers were red, whereas those used by Turkish females were yellow.

After making known to the porter who I was, and that I had come upon an errand from the Ambassador, the old banker came to meet me, led me to a room set apart for receiving his guests, and seated me on a luxurious divan. He was attired in a handsome Armenian costume, wearing a black head-dress much like an inverted iron cauldron.

A few moments after my arrival, a damsel of about seventeen—daughter of the banker—set before me a ‘narghileh,’ and adroitly placed between my lips the amber mouthpiece. I had never used a ‘narghileh’ or smoked ‘tumbaki,’ which is the form of tobacco employed in that kind of pipe, and was glad to have an opportunity of trying it, as presented to me by the Armenian maiden.

She was a pretty girl, with brilliant dark eyes, and features much resembling those of a Jewess of Morocco. The Turkish costume, with its yellow satin ‘shalvas’ or trousers, and the graceful shawl which girded her waist, looked most picturesque and charming, and I sank back on the cushions and gurgled my hubble-bubble with satisfaction; whilst another pretty damsel, a younger sister, brought in coffee, which she presented with a graceful bow.

The banker and I talked and puffed, drank coffee and sherbet, and eat sweetmeats of all kinds which were brought to us in succession. I felt happy, as if I had reached the seventh heaven of the Mohammedan. Time slipped by very quickly. I had finished the business of my mission when the old banker looked at his watch, put aside his ‘narghileh’ and fidgeted a little, thus giving me clearly to understand it would be convenient that I should leave. Much as I was enjoying myself, I was also of the same opinion, and made an effort to rise and get my feet to the ground—for I was seated cross-legged on the divan—but could not move them; they seemed to be paralysed. The banker, not knowing my state, and fancying perhaps that my admiration for his pretty daughters had checked my departure, told them rather roughly, when they again appeared smiling and bringing more Turkish sweetmeats, that their presence was no longer required, and then, looking once more at his watch, he said most politely, and with profuse apologies, ‘I see the hour is past at which I ought to present myself to the Porte.’

I made many excuses for not having taken my leave and told him, with a nervous laugh, that I felt very strange sensations, but did not know the cause; that on attempting to rise I found I had no control over my legs, and could not remove them from the divan, feeling as if my body did not belong to me. I added, ‘You can see however I am not deprived of my senses.’ Could it be the effect of the narghileh—which I had never smoked before—and that the tumbaki had produced this extraordinary languor in my limbs, as it possibly contained opium?

The Armenian appeared much amused on hearing of my helpless state. He assisted me from the divan, supporting me while I tried to walk, and finding that I could not do so, a daughter was summoned to fetch some cordial, which the maiden, with an expression of mirth, brought and administered. Having taken this and rested awhile, I regained the use of my legs. The banker, on my taking leave, expressed repeatedly his regret that I should have suffered any inconvenience from the effects of the narghileh, and added that were not his presence required at the Porte he would have insisted on my remaining at his house to rest for that night at least.

About a year or more after this incident, when Sir Stratford Canning had replaced Lord Ponsonby as Ambassador, a fancy ball was given by Lady Canning at the Embassy at Pera, and I was requested by her Ladyship to take the lead and the direction of the dancing. I was dressed in Highland costume, and had selected for my partner in the cotillon the daughter of the Armenian banker mentioned in this story. In those days Armenian ladies rarely mixed in European society, but she had been permitted on this special occasion to appear at the ball at the Embassy, accompanied by her father. She was beautifully dressed in the ancient Armenian costume, was certainly the belle of the evening, and waltzed like a sylph, so made a perfect partner for one who loved dancing as I did, and we led the various figures in the cotillon with great spirit. Our conversation was carried on in Turkish, which I spoke fluently.

Whilst we danced I observed that one of the Turkish Ministers, who was present at the ball, took every opportunity of coming close to where I happened to halt with my partner; gazing at her rudely, as I thought, especially as she was a shy and modest girl.

At last, when the cotillon was drawing to a close, the Pasha came up to us smiling and said, ‘Pekkei, pekkei’ (very good). ‘You are suited to each other. She is “chok ghazal” (very pretty), and you are a well-favoured youth. You must marry her: she will have money; you have position. My friend the banker will consent; I am pleased.’ And so the old fellow rattled on, much to my dismay and to the confusion of the pretty Armenian maiden.

I remonstrated courteously with the old Minister, saying, ‘My partner is very beautiful, but we have not thought of love or marriage, for we are of different nations and creeds. Moreover, she would not accept me as a candidate for wedlock, even if I offered myself; but I shall always look back with pleasure to this evening when I have been honoured by having such a lovely partner for this dance.’

‘Ah,’ said the Pasha, ‘she is, I know, the daughter of the banker. I will speak to him and arrange matters, for I should like to make you both happy.’

Luckily the time had come for me to bring the cotillon to a close; so, bowing to the meddling old gentleman, I carried off my partner to her father, telling her how vexed I felt; for she must have suffered great annoyance from the foolish language held by the Pasha. The fair Armenian replied, very shyly and prettily, that she did not think he had said anything from malice, so she hoped I would forgive, as she had done, his remarks. To this I readily agreed, and leading her back to where her father the banker was standing I took my leave, and never met again the pretty Armenian.

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