The “Selamik.”

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLI, Issue 9, 26 August 1908, Page 9

The “Selamik.”

lIA PIICTURESQUE MOHAMMEDAN CEREMONY. The ceremony of the “Selamik” at the Mosque of Yildiz, at which —so it was reported recently—the Sultan of Turkey was to be assassinated, is one of the most interesting sights in connect ion with the Court to be seen nowadays in Constantinople. It takes place every Friday at noon. The origin ef it, writes Lady Susan Townley, was the Stqte procession of the Caliph, the “Defender of the Faith,” to the mosque, on that day of (he week appointed and set apart for prayer in common. The first Caliphs actually led the prayers of the people in person as their Imam, but the practice was gradually abandoned, and, when the heritage of the Caliphate passed into tho hands of the Sultan of Turkey at the conquest of Egypt, the latter delegated their powers as hereditary representatives of the Caliphs to a deputy, who then as now performed the religious functions in their stead. So great was the esteem in which was held the last of the long line of Abasside Caliphs that, even after he was stripped of all secular authority, the Sultan of Egypt still walked by the side of his horse, holding his stirrup when on a Friday he proceeded to the mosque. Selim the Fierce, it will be remembered, annexed Egypt to the Ottoman Empire, and carried off the Caliph as his nominal guest, and for his better protection. He (vas brought to Constantinople, together with the holy relies that were in his keeping, viz., the beard of the prophet, his mantle and slippers. In dying, he Bequeathed the authority of the Caliphate to Selim; and the hereditary principle of succession having been well established, it has passed down from one Sultan to another to the present holder, 11. M. Abdul Hamid. The latter was returning from assisting at this time-hon-oured weekly religious ceremony when he was recently placed in such imminent peril of his life. On ordinary occasions, strangers whose respectability is vouched for by their respective ambassadors are allowed to watch the procession to and from the mosque. They assemble on the terrace adjoining the Kiosk reserved for the foreign Ambassadors and their staffs, and thence get an excellent view of the whole proceedings. Shortly before noon the quiet reigning near the palace gives place to feverish activity. Two of the special palace guards mount their horses and gallop off in different directions. Their business is to inform the commanding officers of the troops in waiting at various places in the neighbourhood of the approaching departure of the Sultan’s procession for the (mosque. This mosque stands on the same hill on which is built the palace of Yildiz, just below and immediately facing it. Simultaneously with the disappearance of these mounted messengers appear a number of small carts full of yellow sand, which is rapidly sprinkled over the road which the Sultan must traverse on his triumphal passage from the palace to. the mosque entrance. Curiously enough, I have seen the same yellow sand •prinkled before tho Emperor of China, on .fils way to tho Temple of Heaven! Military music now breaks upon the ear

as the troops rapidly approach from all quarters, and take up their respective positions lining the Imperial route. First come the Mannes in splendid uniforms, carrying at their side, in addition to the (bayonet, the now obsolete “tomahawk.” Above them waves the banner of the Caliphate, the only existing one In the army, a black dag embroidered in silver-, bearing an inscription from the Koran. The origin of this banner is very old, for it dates back to the first Abasside Caliph, who adopted black and white a* the distinctive colours of his fighting banner and ornamental horse-trappings. At the top of its staff glitters the Star of the Order of the Mejidieh, the broad red and green ribbon of the Order floating from it. This decoration was conferred upon the banner by the late Sultan Abdul Aziz, who adopted this peculiar method of enhancing the prestige of t he flajt XTter the Marines come the Albanians of the Imperial Guard, fine fellows in their white zouave uniforms, their belts stuck full of small arms, in addition to •the regulation “Mauser” rifle carried over the shoulder. Conspicuous amongst these small arms is a sword-bayonet taking the place of the “yataghan,” a formidable weapon in a hand-to-hand encounter, without which no self-respecting Albanian may be seen. Behind them, in serried lines four deep, the lancers take up their position, their gay pennons floating on the breeze. These Lancers are divided into "greys” and “bays according to the colour of their horses. Next the Arab troops call for attention, more picturesque perhaps than any others, awarthycomplexioned men, with irregular features, hailing straight from Tripoli, their African home. The blue of the Zouave uniforms is in striking contrast to the green of the turbans encircling their fezzes. In addition to the above are the various regiments of infantry in garrison at Constantinople, who line every approach to the mosque. With them also rs a battalion of artillery without their guns, and oen of sailors from the fleet. Following close upon the Imperial troops come the Imperial prince-, escorted by their aides-de-canips and orderlies, gorgeously arrayed in magnificent uniforms. Their faces powdered until they look like death masks, their breasts covered with jewelled decorations, they march on foot down the bill from palace to mosque, and take up their positions with the battalions to which they are attached. Two of the Sultan’s sons attached to the cavalry mount their horses and station themselves opposite the entrance gate to the mosque. Another son, the favourite Prince Boonar-ed-deen, places himself at the head of the line of marines. The youngest son of the Sultan drives to the mosque in a closed carriage. He is a bright little felllow of eight years or so, and opposite to him sit two young orderlies, boys of his own age, and, sons of the Minister of War. The ladies of the Imperial harem ami daughters of the Sultan now appear in a succession of closed landaus, but of them little can be seen except occasionally a fan, a flashing jewel, a white-gloved hand, as the inmates for a moment push aside the down-drawn carriage blinds. These carriages, drawn by splendid Arab horses, gold-caparisoned, and. with tiger-skin sad-dle-cloths, are followed on foot, each, by three of those hideous, thick-lipped, eable-visaged, frock-coated giant attendants, who guard the honour of every princess and lady of quality born under the iron yoke of Mohammed. They are ranged in line within the iron railings ef the mosque enclosure, and the horses being taken out, their fair occupants are left to see as much as they can from the open doorways. But this brilliant procession is not yet closed. Following upon the ladies’ carriages are five superb Arab steeds, each one led by a groom. A curious tradition attaches to these horses. The story goes that once upon a time a Sultan, returning from the mosque on horseback, as the custom then was, found himself accosted by a ragged woman in the crowd, who, springing suddenly forward, laid a detaining hand upon the Imperial bridle, claiming the royal steed as one stolen from her husband ufor the Sultan’s use. The Sultan, whose conscience was struck by this act ftf injustice, dismounted and gave her the horse, continuing his way back to the palace on foot. With a view to avoiding the possibility of such a contretemps in tho future, older* were then given, and have since been carried out, that five fully-caparisoned horses shall bo led in the Sultan’s train. A long line of Pashas next emerges from the palace gateways, all in full-

dres* uniform, with their orders upon their breasts, and they also quickly walk down the hili to the mosque. Tba.se are the marshals and generals of division, and they move to their appointed position in line, on the right of the steps leading up to the Sultan’s apartments in the left wing of the mosque. Amongst them are the three sons-in-law of the Sultan lately raised to the dignity of marshals. Behind the marshals and generals, but with a respectful interval between them, stretches another long line of generals, admirals, colonels and post-cap-tains, who form with the othens the bodyguard of the Sultan, and are on service at Constantinople. The last to appear are the numerous Imperial servants—the pipc-bearcr, the eafejee, the prayer-carpet-spreader, the chief-physieian, etc. An interval of several minutes occurs after all arc In place, and then suddenly the silence gives way to a great shouting as the heralds stand forth and proclaim the near approach of the “Lord of Lords.” the “Drinker ef Blood,” tho “Conqueror,” the “Lord of the Four Seas and Continents,” tho Sultan! Can this be he, thia outwardly feeble old man, seated In a simple carriage and swathed In a uniform great coat, the sombreness of which is relieved only by the long row of orders glittering on his breast? His head, with its henna-dyed beard, seems abnormally large, and his body 'apparently shrunk into itself! Can this be tho Sultan, the dreaded ruler of Turkey, tho despotic sovereign who for years has known how to make himself feared, the man whose keen wit has played off the ablest diplomatists in Europe one against the other. But, as he is driven slowly by, the answer comes from the well-drilled troops, “Padishah chock Pasha?” (Long life to the Sultan!), whilst the military bands burst forth into the inspiring strains of the “Hamidich,” the Imperial March of Turkey. As these sounds die down he reaches the mosque. Stepping from his carriage, the faint voice of the Imam reaches him from the minaret overhead. admonishing him in the timehonoured words to abandten all pride. “ Remember that with all thy might and power, in spite of all this bravery and show, there is One greater than thou art. God! tire Most Highl ” The devotions of the Sultan do not last long. Hardly twenty minutes pass before he appears once more. The landau in which he arrived ha* meanwhile been exchanged for a big pair-horse phaeton, in which it is his custom to drive, himself slowly back to the palace. As he passes under the windows of the kiosk where such of the foreign Ambassadors are assembled!, who happen on that day to have business to transact in private audience with him after the Selamlik, lie raises his white-gloved hand, and with a long look of his piercing eyes leans slightly toward them, giving them a military salute, and at the same time bowing to the ladies who are with them. His Court accompany him on the return journey, on foot as they came, crowding round his carriage, the highest in rank nearest to the imperial person, and as they press one upon the other, half walking, half running up the bill to keep pace with the horses, they look as if- they were actually pushing the carriage of their royal master, a most curious effect! Such is the weekly process!en of the Sultan to the mosque, the ceremony called the “ Selamlik.” It takes place, as I have said, about noon; but once a year, on the first day of the feast of Bairain, it is postponed until one hour after sunset. That evening Selamlik is still more interesting, and if possible, more picturesque than the day ceremony. The first night of Bairam, coming as it does as the opening of a three-days’ festival at the close of the long fast of Ramazan, is the holiest night in the Mohammedan calendar, for on that night, according to tradition, the heaven* are opened, and angels pas* up and down Jacob’s laddfer, as of old, carrying upwards the prayers of the faithful Moslems and bringing back the answer. As we drove down from Pera and across the valley which separates the town from that other hill on which are built Yildiz and the Sultan'* private mosque, thousands of lights sprang into being, and night became bright with the myriads of fairy lights, decorating barracks, gateways, and facades in the neighbourhood of the Imperial dwelling. The groups of buildings and the vast open parade ground close to the palace were all decked’ out with red, green, and white lights, some taking the form- of peaeocks with outspread bails-, others fol-

lowing more conventional designs such as star*, crescents, and Catherine wheels. Th« iron railing* of the paraAe-gaound were picked out with coloured lamps, and over the gate in letters of fire ran the Turkish legend equivalent to our “ God save the King.” Below the windows of the Kiosk des Ambassadcurs whence we were to view the evening proeessloii, starting from the palaee gateway on our Mt, sharply outlined in white against the darkness beyond, the brond road sloped down hill to the illuminated mosquej and beyond it, plunged into a very sea of torchlights, in the blazo of which object* moved like black devils, formless' impressions ef moving humanity. Those were the troops arrayed in two close lines on either side of the road and massed beyond the mosque, to guard the person of that dlread Majesty who presently would appear in all the pomp qf Oriental display, making his way to his yearly devotions. Now and then those troop? moved into the light, and for a moment one qould distinguish the black and white of the Arnaouts, or the picturesque green of tho Arabs from Tripoli. These were no discontented rabble of soldiers, such as one sees all over European and Asiatic Turkey, nay these were the pampered body-guard! of the Sultan, who after their lord had passed on his royal progress, would be allowed to break ranks and drink coffee, and eat cakes and bonbons distributed by his orders. How can I give the impression of expectancy which hung over that vast gathering of men waiting in the dark but brilliantly illuminated night for the passing of the Sultan? Suddenly a white turbaned figure appeared on the parapet of the minaret, whose triple row of lights threw its whiteness into vivid relief against the sable pall of the heavens. It was the muezzin come to call the faithful Moslems to prayer, and his voice resounded far out on the still night air as ho sent forth the familiar cry, the watchword and battle cry of Mohammedanism, “La ilah ilia liah!” (No God but the one God!) As the echoes of it died away against tho Palace walls, the military bands struck up their spirited music, the clarions sent forth their clear notes, innumerable Bengal lights blazed up, disturbing the golden radiance of a thousand torches with the red, blue and pink of their curling smoke. And then come forth Abdul Hamid himself, summoned to prayer by the voice of the muezzin like the meanest of his subjects. Around his open carriage clustered as close as bees in a hive, a brilliant bevy of officers and aides-de-camp, whose near vicinity to his person probably constituted in the mind of their master his chief security. And so lie pa-ssed on to his prayer, and as the doors of the Mosque opened to receive him a burst of enthusiasm found vent in the sounding hurrah of a thousand throats. A seared pigeon, driven from its shelter by the noise of the magnificent fireworks, found it* way upwards, and took flight with white outstretched wings across the blackness of the night, whilst a wretched stray dog broke cover, and raced with ears set baek and tail between its legs down the drawn line of soldiers.