Personal Memoirs of P. H. Sheridan, General, United States Army — Complete eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 704 pages of information about Personal Memoirs of P. H. Sheridan, General, United States Army — Complete.

Personal Memoirs of P. H. Sheridan, General, United States Army — Complete eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 704 pages of information about Personal Memoirs of P. H. Sheridan, General, United States Army — Complete.

So, the second day after arrival, the Grand Vizier drove me in a barouche to the Esplanade, where we took station about midway of its length an hour or so before the Sultan was to appear.  Shortly after we reached the Esplanade, carriages occupied by the women of the Sultan’s harem began to appear, coming out from the palace grounds and driving up and down the roadway.  Only a few of the women were closely veiled, a majority of them wearing an apology for veiling, merely a strip of white lace covering the forehead down to the eyebrows.  Some were yellow, and some white-types of the Mongolian and Caucasian races.  Now and then a pretty face was seen, rarely a beautiful one.  Many were plump, even to corpulence, and these were the closest veiled, being considered the greatest beauties I presume, since with the Turk obesity is the chief element of comeliness.  As the carriages passed along in review, every now and then an occupant, unable or unwilling to repress her natural promptings, would indulge in a mild flirtation, making overtures by casting demure side-glances, throwing us coquettish kisses, or waving strings of amber beads with significant gestures, seeming to say:  “Why don’t you follow?” But this we could not do if we would, for the Esplanade throughout its entire length was lined with soldiers, put there especially to guard the harem first, and later, the Sultan on his pilgrimage to the mosque.

But as it was now time for His Serene Highness to make his appearance the carriages containing his wives drove off into the palace grounds, which were inclosed by a high wall, leaving the Esplanade wholly unencumbered except by the soldiers.  Down between the two ranks, which were formed facing each other, came the Sultan on a white steed—­a beautiful Arabian—­and having at his side his son, a boy about ten or twelve years old, who was riding a pony, a diminutive copy of his father’s mount, the two attended by a numerous body-guard, dressed in gorgeous Oriental uniforms.  As the procession passed our carriage, I, as pre-arranged, stood up and took off my hat, His Serene Highness promptly acknowledging the salute by raising his hand to the forehead.  This was all I saw of him, yet I received every kindness at his hands, being permitted to see many of his troops, to inspect all the ordnance, equipment, and other military establishments about Constantinople, and to meet numbers of the high functionaries of the Empire.

Among other compliments tendered through his direction, and which I gladly accepted, was a review of all the troops then in Stamboul —­about 6,000—­comprising infantry, cavalry, and artillery.

They were as fine looking a body of soldiers as I ever saw—­well armed and well clothed, the men all large and of sturdy appearance.

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Personal Memoirs of P. H. Sheridan, General, United States Army — Complete from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.