CHAPTER IX.
THE SETTING AND THE RISING SUN.
The dead bodies of the victims were still lying in the streets whenSultan Achmed summoned the Ulemas to the cupolaed chamber. Hiscountenance was dejected and sad.
Before coming to the council-chamber he had kissed all his children, oneby one, and when it came to the turn of his little ten-year-old child,Bajazid, he saw that the little fellow's eyes were full of tears and heinquired the reason why. The child replied:
"Father, it is well with those who are thy enemies and grievous for themthat love thee. What then will be our fate who love thee best of all?Amongst the wives of our brethren thou wilt find more than one in greymourning weeds. Look, I prythee, at the face of Ummettulah; look at theeyes of Sabiha, and the appearance of Ezma. They are all of them widowsand orphans, and it is thou who hast caused their fathers and husbandsto be slain."
"To save thee I have done it," stammered Achmed, pressing the child tohis breast.
"Thou wilt see that thou shalt not save us after all," sighed Bajazid.
In the years to come these words were to be as an eternal echo in theears of Achmed.
So he sat on his throne and the Ulemas took their places around him onthe divans covered with kordofan leather. Opposite to him sat the chiefimam, Ispirizade. Sulali sat beside him.
"Lo, the blood of the victims has now been poured forth," said Achmed ina gloomy, tremulous voice, "I have sacrificed my most faithful servants.Speak! What more do the rebels require? Why do they still blow theirfield trumpets? Why do they still kindle their bivouac fires? What moredo they want?"
And the words of his little son rang constantly in his ears: "It is wellwith those who are thy enemies and grievous for them that love thee."
No one replied to the words of the Sultan.
"Answer, I say! What think ye concerning the matter?"
Once more deep silence prevailed. The Ulemas looked at one another. Manyof them began to nudge Sulali, who stood up as if to speak, butimmediately sat down again without opening his mouth.
"Speak, I pray you! I have not called you hither to look at me and atone another, but to give answers to my questions."
And still the Ulemas kept silence. Dumbly they sat around as if theywere not living men but only embalmed corpses, such as are to be foundin the funeral vaults of the Pharaohs grouped around the royal tombs.
"'Tis wondrous indeed!" said Achmed, when the whole Council had remaineddumb for more than a quarter of an hour. "Are ye all struck dumb thenthat ye give me no answer?"
Then at last Ispirizade rose from his place.
"Achmed!" he began--with such discourteous curtness did he address theSultan!
"Achmed! 'tis the wish of Halil Patrona that thou descend from thethrone and give it up to Sultan Mahmud...."
Achmed sat bolt upright in his chair. After the words just uttered everyvoice in the council-chamber was mute, and in the midst of this dreadfulsilence the Ulemas were terrified to behold the Padishah stand on thesteps of the throne, extend his arm towards the imam, fix his eyessteadily upon him, and open his lips from which never a word proceeded.
Thus for a long time he stood upon the throne with hand outstretched andparted lips, and his stony eyes fixed steadily upon the imam, and thosewho saw it were convulsed by a feeling of horror, and Ispirizade felthis limbs turn to stone and the light of day grow dim before his eyesin the presence of that dreadful figure which regarded him and pointedat him. It was, as it were, a dumb curse--a dumb, overpowering spell,which left it to God and His destroying angels to give expression to hiswishes, and read in his heart and accomplish that which he himself wasincapable of pronouncing.
The whole trembling assembly collapsed before the Sultan's throne,crawled to his feet and, moistening them with their tears, exclaimed:
"Pardon, O master! pardon!"
An hour before they had unanimously resolved that Achmed must be made toabdicate, and now they unanimously begged for pardon. But the deed hadalready been done.
The hand of the Padishah that had been raised to curse sank slowly downagain, his eyes half closed, his lips were pressed tightly together, hethrust his hands into the girdle of his mantle, looked down for a longtime upon the Ulemas, and then quietly descended the steps of thethrone. On reaching the pavement he remained standing by the side of thethrone, and cried in a hollow tremulous voice:
"I have ceased to reign, let a better than I take my place. I demand butone thing, let those who are at this moment the lords of the dominion ofOsman swear that they will do no harm to my children. Let them swear itto me on the Alkoran. Take two from amongst you and let them convey mydesire to Halil."
Again a deep silence followed upon Achmed's words. The Ulemas fixedtheir gaze upon the ground, not one of them moved or made even a show ofconveying the message.
"Perhaps, then, ye wish the death of my children also? Or is there notone of you with courage enough to go and speak to them?"
A very aged, tremulous, half paralyzed Ulema was there among them, thedervish Mohammed, and he it was who at length ventured to speak.
"Oh, my master! who is valiant enough to speak with a raging lion, whohath wit enough to come to terms with the burning tempest of the Samum,or who would venture to go on an embassy to the tempest-tost sea andbandy words therewith?"
Achmed gazed darkly, doubtfully upon the Ulema, and his face wore anexpression of repressed despair.
Sulali had compassion on the Sultan.
"I will go to them," he said reassuringly; "remain here, oh, my master,till I return. Of a truth I tell thee that I will not come back tillthey have sworn to do what thou desirest."
And now Ispirizade said that he also would go with Sulali. He had notsufficient strength of mind to endure the gaze of the Sultan tillSulali should return. Far rather would he go with him also to therebels. Besides they already understood each other very well.
The envoys found Halil sitting under his tent in the Etmeidan.
Sulali drew near to him and delivered the message of the Sultan.
But he did not deliver it in the words of Achmed. He neither begged norimplored, nor mingled his request with bitter lamentations as Achmed haddone, but he spoke boldly and sternly, without picking his words, asAchmed ought to have done.
"The Padishah would have his own life and the lives of his childrenguaranteed by oath," said he to the assembled leaders of the people."Swear, therefore, on the Alkoran that you will respect them, and swearit in the names of your comrades likewise. The Padishah is resolved thatif you refuse to take this oath he will blow up the Seraglio and everyliving soul within it into the air with gunpowder."
The rebels were impressed by this message, only Halil Patrona smiled. Heknew very well that such a threat as this never arose in the breast ofAchmed. His gentle soul was incapable of such a thing. So he folded hisarms across his breast and smiled.
Then the chief imam fell down in the dust before him, and said in ahumble voice:
"Listen not, O Halil, to the words of my companion. The Padishah humblyimplores you for his life and the lives of his children."
Halil wrinkled his brow and exclaimed angrily:
"Rise up, Ulema, grovel not before me in the name of the Sultan. Thosewho would slay him deal not half so badly with them as thou who dosthumiliate him. Sulali is right. The Sultan is capable of great deeds. Iknow that the cellars of the Seraglio are full of gunpowder, and I wouldnot that the blossoms of the Sheik-ul-Islam and the descendants of theProphet should perish. Behold, I am ready, and my comrades also, toswear on the Alkoran to do no harm either to Sultan Achmed, or his sons,or his daughters, or his daughters' husbands. Whosoever shall raise hishand against them his head I myself will cut in twain, and make theavenging Angels of Allah split his soul in twain also, so that each halfmay never again find its fellow. Go back and peace rest upon Achmed."
Sulali flew back with the message, but Ispirizade hastened to the AjaSophia mosque to give directions for the enthronement of
the new Sultan.
Meanwhile Achmed had assembled his sons around him in the cupolaedchamber, and sitting down on the last step of the throne made them taketheir places round his feet, and awaited the message which was to bearthe issues of life and death.
Sulali entered the room with a radiant countenance, carrying in his handthe copy of the Alkoran, on which Halil and his associates had sworn theoath required of them. He laid it at the Sultan's feet.
"Live for ever, oh, Sultan!" he cried, "and may thy heart rejoice in theprosperity of thy children!"
Achmed looked up with a face full of gratitude, and thanked Allah, theGiver of all good and perfect gifts.
His children embraced him with tears in their eyes, and Achmed did notforget to extend his hand to Sulali, who first raised it to his foreheadand then pressed it to his lips.
Then Achmed sent the Kizlar-Aga for Sultan Mahmud, surnamed "the WhitePrince," from the pallor of his face, to summon him to his presence.
Half an hour later, accompanied by Elhaj Beshir, Prince Mahmud arrived.He was the son of Mustapha II., who had renounced the throne in favourof Achmed just as Achmed was now resigning the throne in favour ofMahmud.
The Sultan arose, hastened towards him, embraced him, and kissed him onthe forehead.
"The people desire thee to ascend the throne. Be merciful to my childrenjust as I was merciful to thy father's children."
Sultan Mahmud did obeisance to his uncle, and seizing his hand, as if itwere worthy of all honour, reverently kissed it.
Then Achmed beckoned to his sons, and one by one they approached Mahmud,and kissed his hand. And all the time the Ulemas remained prostrate onthe ground around them.
Then Achmed took the new sovereign by the right hand, and personallyconducted him into the chamber of the Mantle of the Prophet. There,standing in front of the throne, he took from his hand the diamondclasp, the symbol of dominion, and with his own hand fastened it to theturban of the new Sultan, and placing his hand upon his head, solemnlyblessed him.
"Rule and prosper! May those thou lovest love thee also, and may thosethat thou hatest fear thee. Be glorious and powerful while thou livest,and may men bless thy name and magnify thy memory when thou art dead!"
Then Achmed and his children thrice did obeisance to Mahmud, whereupontaking his two youngest sons by the hand, with a calm and quiet dignity,he quitted the halls of dominion which he was never to behold again,abandoning, one after another, every single thing which had hithertobeen so dear to him.
In the Hall of Audience he gave up the Sword of the Prophet to theSilihdar, who unbuckled it from his body, and when he came to the doorleading to the harem he handed over his children to the Kizlar-Aga,telling him to greet the Sultana Asseki in his name, and bid herremember him and teach his little children their father's name.
For henceforth he will see no more his sharp sword, or the fair Adsalis,or the other dear damsels, or his darling children. He must remain forever far away from them behind the walls of a dungeon. A deposed Sultanhas nought whatever to do with swords or wives or children. The samefate befell Mustapha II. six-and-twenty years before. He also had topart with his sword, his wives, and his children in just the same way.And this Achmed had good cause to remember, for then it was that heascended the throne. And now he, in his turn, descended from the throne,and now that had happened to him for his successor's sake which hadhappened to his predecessor for his sake.
* * * * *
But the great men of the realm bowed their heads to the ground beforeSultan Mahmud and did him homage.
The long procession of those who came to do him obeisance filled all theapartments of the Seraglio and lasted till midnight. The whole Courtbent head and knee before the new Sultan, and the chief officers ofstate, the clergy, and the eunuchs followed suit. Only the captains ofthe host and Halil Patrona still remained behind.
Hastily written letters were dispatched to all the captains and to allthe rebels, informing them that Sultan Achmed had been deposed andSultan Mahmud was reigning in his stead; let them all come, therefore,at dawn of day next morning and do homage to the new Padishah.
The moon had long been high in the heavens and was shining through thecoloured windows of the Seraglio when the magnates withdrew and Mahmudremained alone.
Only the Kizlar-Aga awaited his pleasure--the Kizlar-Aga whose sootyface seemed to cast a black shadow upon itself.
Mahmud extended his hand to him with a smile that he might kiss it.
And then Elhaj Beshir conducted him to the door of those secretapartments within which bloom the flowers of bliss and rapture, andthrowing it open bent low while the new Sultan passed through.
Only three among the peris of loveliness had preferred eternal lovelessslavery to the favours of the new Padishah, and among those who smiledupon the young Sultan as he entered the room, the one who had thehappiest, the most radiant face, was the fair Adsalis, who stillremained the favourite wife, the Sultana Asseki, even after the greatrevolution which had turned the whole Empire upside down and made theleast to be the greatest and the greatest to stand lowest of all.
Among so many smiling faces hers was the one towards which thetremulously happy and enraptured Sultan hastened full of tenderinfatuation; she it was whom he raised to his breast and in whose armshe soothed himself with dreams of glory, while she stifled his anxietieswith her kisses.
Everything was asleep in the Halls of Felicity, only Love was stillawake. Mahmud, forgetful alike of himself and his empire, pressed to hisbosom his dear enchanting Sultana, the most precious of all thetreasures he had won that day; but the fair Sultana shuddered from timeto time in the midst of his burning embrace. It seemed to her as ifsomeone was standing behind her back, sobbing and sighing and touchingher warm bosom with his cold fingers.
Perchance she could hear the sighing and the sobbing of him who laysleepless far, far below that bower of rapture, in one of the coldvaults of the Place of Oblivion, thinking of his lost Empire and hislost Eden!
* * * * *
Early next morning the chief captains of the host, the Bashas and theSheiks, appeared in the Seraglio to greet the new Sultan. It was onlythe leaders of the rebels who did not come.
Ever since Sulali had frightened the insurgents by telling them that thecellars of the Seraglio were full of gunpowder, they did not so much asventure to draw near it, and when the public criers recited theinvitation of Mahmud in front of the mosques, thousands and thousands ofvoices shouted as if from one throat:
"We will not come!"
Not one of them would listen to the invitation from the Seraglio.
"It is a mere ruse," observed the wise Reis-Effendi. "They only want toentice us into a mouse-trap to crush us all at a blow like flies caughtin honey."
"A short cut into Paradise that would be," scornfully observed Orli,who, despite his office of softa, did not hesitate to speakdisrespectfully even of Paradise, whither every true believer oughtjoyfully to hasten.
Last of all "crazy" Ibrahim gave them a piece of advice.
"'Twill be best," said he, "to gather together from among us our leastuseful members--any murderers there may happen to be, or escapedgaol-birds for instance; call them Halil, Musli, and Suleiman, deck themout in the garments of Agas, Begs, and Ulemas, and send them to theSeraglio. Then, if we see them return to us safe and sound, we can, ofcourse, go ourselves."
This crazy counsel instantly met with general applause. Everyoneapproved of it, of that there could be no doubt.
Halil Patrona regarded them all in contemptuous silence. Only when"crazy" Ibrahim's proposal had been resolved upon did he stand up andsay:
"I myself will go to the Seraglio."
Some of them regarded him with amazement, others laughed. Musli clappedhis hands together in his desperation.
"Halil! dost thou dream or art thou beside thyself? Dost thou imaginethyself to be one of the Princes of the Thousand and One Nights who canhew his
way through monsters and spectres, or art thou wearied ofbeholding the sun from afar and must needs go close up to him?"
"'Tis no concern of thine what I do, and if I am not afraid what need isthere for thee to be afraid on my account?"
"But, prythee, bethink thee, Halil! It would be a much more sensiblejest on thy part to leap into the den of a lioness suckling her young;and thou wouldst be a much wiser man if thou wert to adventure thyselfin the sulphur holes of Balsorah, or cause thyself to be let down, forthe sake of a bet, into the coral-beds at the bottom of the Sea ofCandia to pick up a bronze asper,[2] instead of going to the Seragliowhere there are now none but thine enemies, and where the veryatmosphere and the spider crawling down the wall is venomous to thee andthy deadly enemy."
"They may kill me," cried Halil, striking his bosom with both hands andboldly stepping forward--"they may kill me it is true, but they shallnever be able to say that I was afraid of them. They may tear my limbsto pieces, but when it comes to be recorded in the Chronicles that therabble of Constantinople were cowards, it shall be recorded at the sametime that, nevertheless, there was one man among them who could not onlytalk about death but could look it fairly between the eyes when itappeared before him."
"Listen, Halil! I and many more like me are capable of looking into thevery throat of loaded cannons. Many is the time, too, that I have seensharp swords drawn against me, and no lance that ever hath left thesmith's hand can boast that I have so much as winked an eye before itsglittering point. But what is the use of valour in a place where youknow that the very ground beneath your feet has Hell beneath it, and itonly needs a spark no bigger than that which flashes from a man's eyewhen he has received a buffet, and we shall all fly into the air. Why,even if both our hands were full of swords and pistols, not one of themcould protect us--so who would wish to be brave there?"
"Have I invited thee to come? Did I not say that I would go alone?"
"But we won't let thee go. What art thou thinking about? If they destroythee there we shall be without a leader, and we shall fall to pieces andperish like the rush-roof of a cottage when the joists are suddenlypulled from beneath it. And thou thyself wilt be a laughing-stock to thepeople, like the cock of the fairy tale who spitted and roastedhimself."
"That will never happen," said Halil, unbuckling his sword (for noweapon may enter the Seraglio) and handing it to Musli; "take care of itfor me till I return, and if I do not return it will be something toremember me by."
"Then thou art really resolved to go?" inquired Musli. "Well, in thatcase, I will go too."
At these words the others also began to bestir themselves, and whenthey saw that Halil really was not joking, they accompanied him right upto the Seraglio. Into it indeed they did not go; but, anyhow, theysurrounded the huge building which forms a whole quarter of the city byitself, and as soon as they saw Halil pass through the Seraglio gatesthey set up a terrific shout.
Alone, unarmed, and without an escort, the rebel leader passed throughthe strange, unfamiliar rooms, and at every door armed resplendentsentries made way before him, closing up again, with pikes crossed,before every door when he had passed through them.
On reaching the Hall of Audience, a couple of Kapu-Agasis seized him bythe arm, and led him into the Cupola Chamber where Sultan Mahmudreceived those who came to render homage.
In all the rooms was that extraordinary pomp which is only to be seen onthe day when a new Sultan has ascended the throne. The veryante-chamber, "The Mat-Room," as it is called, because of the variegatedstraw-mats with which it is usually covered, was now spread over withcostly Persian carpets. The floor of the Cupola Chamber looked like aflower-bed. Its rich pile carpets were splendidly embroidered with gold,silver, and silken flowers of a thousand hues, interspersed with wreathsof pearls. At the foot of a sofa placed on an elevated dais glistened acoverlet of pure pearls. On each side of this sofa stood a little roundwriting-table inlaid with gold. On one of these tables lay an openportfolio encrusted with precious stones and writing materials flashingwith rubies and emeralds; on the other lay a copy of the Alkoran, boundin black velvet and studded with rose brilliants. Another copy of theAlkoran lay open on a smaller table, written in the Talik script inletters of gold, cinnabar, and ultramarine; and there were twelve otherKorans on just as many other tables, with gold clasps andpearl-embroidered bindings. On both sides of the fire-place, on standsthat were masterpieces of carving, were heaped up the gala mantlesexhibited on such occasions; and side by side, along the wall, on raisedalabaster pedestals were nine clocks embellished with figures, each moreingenious than the other, which moved and played music every time thehour struck. Four large Venetian mirrors multiplied the extravagantsplendours of the stately room.
Around the room on divans sat the chief dignitaries of the Empire, theviziers, the secretaries, the presenters of petitions according to rank,in splendid robes, and with round, pyramidal or beehive-shaped turbansaccording to the nature of their office.
Yet all this pomp was utterly eclipsed by the splendour which radiatedfrom the new Padishah; he seemed enveloped in a shower of pearls anddiamonds. Whichever way he turned the roses embroidered on his dress,the girdle which encircled his loins, the clasp of his turban, and everyweapon about him seemed to scatter rainbow sparks, so that those whogazed at him were dazzled into blindness before they could catch aglimpse of his face.
Behind the back of the throne, flashing with carbuncles as large asnuts, stood a whole army of ministering servants with their headsplunged deep in their girdles.
It was into this room that Halil entered.
On the threshold his two conductors released his arm, and Halil advancedalone towards the Padishah.
His face was not a whit the paler than at other times, he stepped forthas boldly and gazed around him as confidently as ever.
His dress, too, was just the same as hitherto--a simple Janissarymantle, a blue dolman with divided sleeves, without any ornament, ashort salavari, or jerkin, reaching to the knee, leaving the lower partof the legs bare, and the familiar roundish kuka on his head.
As he passed through the long apartment he cast a glance upon thedignitaries sitting around the throne, and there was not one among themwho could withstand the fire of his gaze. With head erect he advancedin front of the Sultan, and placing his muscular, half-naked foot on thefootstool before the throne stood there, for a moment, like a figurecast in bronze, a crying contrast to all this tremulous pomp andobsequious splendour. Then he raised his hand to his head, and greetedthe Sultan in a strong sonorous voice:
"Aleikum unallah! The grace of God be upon thee!"
Then folding his hands across his breast he flung himself down beforethe throne, pressing his forehead against its steps.
Mahmud descended towards him, and raised him from the ground with hisown hand.
"Speak! what can I do for thee?" he asked with condescension.
"My wishes have already been fulfilled," said Halil, and every word hethen uttered was duly recorded by the chronicler. "It was my wish thatthe sword of Mahomet should pass into worthy hands; behold it isaccomplished, thou dost sit on the throne to which I have raised thee. Iknow right well what is the usual reward for such services--a shamefuldeath awaits me."
Mahmud passionately interrupted him.
"And I swear to thee by my ancestors that no harm shall befall thee.Ask thine own reward, and it shall be granted thee before thou hast yetmade an end of preferring thy request."
Halil reflected for a moment, and all the time his gaze rested calmly onthe faces of the dignitaries sitting before him. His gaze passed downthe whole row of them, and he took them all in one by one. Everyone ofthem believed that he was seeking a victim whose place he coveted. Therebel leader read this thought plainly in the faces of the dignitaries.Once more he ran his eyes over them, then he spoke.
"Glorious Padishah! as the merit of thy elevation belongeth not to mebut to thy people, let the reward be theirs whose is the merit. A heavyburden oppresses thy sl
aves, and the name of that burden is Malikane. Itis the farming out of the taxes for the lives of the holders thereofwhich puts money into the pockets of the high officers of state and thepashas, so that the Sublime Porte derives no benefit therefrom. Abolish,O Padishah, this farming out of the revenue, so that the destiny of thepeople may be in thy hands alone, and not in the hands of these richusurers!"
And with these words he waved his hand defiantly in the direction of theviziers and the magnates.
Deep silence fell upon them. Through the closed doors resounded thetempestuous roar of the multitudes assembled around the Seraglio. Thosewithin it trembled, and Halil Patrona stood there among them like anenchanter who knows that he is invulnerable, immortal.
But the Sultan immediately commanded the Ciaus Aga to proclaim to thepeople with a trumpet-blast at the gates of the Seraglio, that at thedesire of Halil Patrona the Malikane was from this day forth abolished.
The shout which arose the next moment and made the very walls of theSeraglio tremble was ample evidence of the profound impression whichthis announcement made.
"And now place thyself at the head of thy host," said Halil, "accept theinvitation of thy people to go to the Ejub mosque, in order that theSilihdars may gird thee with the Sword of the Prophet according toancient custom."
The Sultan thereupon caused it to be announced that in an hour's time hewould proceed to the mosque of Ejub, there to be girded with the Swordof the Prophet.
With a shout of joy the people pressed towards the mosque in theirthousands, crowding all the streets and all the house-tops between themosque and the Seraglio. The cannons of the Bosphorus sent thunderingmessages to the distant mountains of the joy of Stambul, and an hourlater, to the sound of martial music, Mahmud held his triumphal progressthrough the streets of his capital on horseback; and the people wavedrich tapestries at him from the house-tops and scattered flowers in hispath. Behind him came radiant knightly viziers and nobles, and venerablecouncillors in splendid apparel on gorgeous full bloods; but in front ofhim walked two men alone, Halil Patrona and Musli, both in plain, simplegarments, with naked calves, on their heads small round turbans, andwith drawn swords in their hands as is the wont of the commonJanissaries when on the march.
And the people sitting on the house-tops shouted the name of Halil justas often and just as loudly as they shouted the name of Mahmud.
The firing of the last salvo announced that the Sultan had arrived atthe Ejub mosque.
Ispirizade, the chief imam of the Aja Sophia mosque, already awaitedhim. He had asked Halil as a favour that he might bless the new Sultan,and Halil had granted his request. Since he had ventured into theSeraglio everyone had obeyed his words. The people now whisperedeverywhere that the Sultan was doing everything which Halil Patronademanded.
Ispirizade had already mounted the lofty pulpit when Mahmud and hissuite took their places on the lofty dais set apart for them.
The chief priest's face was radiant with triumph. He extended his handsabove his head and thrice pronounced the name of Allah. And when he hadthus thrice called upon the name of God, his lips suddenly grew dumb,and there for a few moments he stood stiffly, with his hands raisedtowards Heaven and wide open eyes, and then he suddenly fell down deadfrom the pulpit.
"'Tis the dumb curse of Achmed!" whispered the awe-stricken spectatorsto one another.
FOOTNOTE:
[2] Farthing.