Inspired by true events, 'The Blue Hour' is a story of political intrigue and doomed love set in the dying days of the Ottoman Empire during the summer of 1876. All Prince Hamid and the Belgian glove-maker, Flora Cordier, want is to pursue their for...
Her personal suite, overseen by the Mother of the Maids, received her with deep curtsies. Wherever she went, the suite followed. Ten women, handpicked for their intelligence, beauty, loyalty and their potential for pleasing Hamid. She greeted each girl with a kiss and a personal question or comment; she had seen them grow up. One day, anyone of them could come to bear his son, new heirs to the throne. Soon perhaps, but not yet. In the olden days, it was considered subversive for a prince to do breed an heir to the throne. The rule was less strictly adhered to today, but for Hamid to breed an heir in these uncertain times, would be imprudent. Better to offer him barren women.
In the meantime, Peresto groomed the women for high office. The harem was a training institution and a career path for both the male and female servants of the royal family. Its inhabitants were all slaves, mostly Christian, brought there as children. After converting them to Islam, they were rigorously trained to serve. The luckiest could enter the dynasty as the mother of a prince. Or else, she might obtain a position in one of the private suites or in the harem institution, or she could enter the Ottoman elite through marriage to a male servant of the dynasty.
Peresto's path to the top of the harem was unusual. As the adoptive daughter of Medjid's sister, she was raised a Princess and Muslim. The Koran forbids a Muslim to enslave another Muslim, therefore, when Sultan Medjid brought Peresto to his harem as his fourteen-year-old bride, she arrived as a free woman, not a slave. Unlike his other consorts, she had not worked her way up through the harem hierarchy, and she was his legal wife. She was also barren; Hamid was her adoptive son and Cemile her adoptive daughter, both gifts of love from Medjid at the death of their mothers.
The young women in the suite whispered and giggled. Reclined on cushions, Peresto listened attentively. Coffee was served, cigarettes or pipes were smoked. The harem hierarchy was rigid and respected, but the informal power structures and alliances were at least as important, founded on friendships, quarrels, jealousies, dreams and aspirations.
With a clap of the hands, the Mother of Maids called for silence.
The women in her suite were part of a larger, carefully spun web, which she had cast over the empire to build factional support for Hamid. They served as her links to the outside world. After a couple of years of service, she freed her favourites, the prettiest and the wittiest and the most loyal. Freedom, of course, came in the form of a marriage of her choosing to an influential person on the outside. She organised the marriage, offered generous dowries, oversaw the careers of their husbands, provided them with annual stipends and offered gifts and extra money on holy days. In return, the women and their husbands provided her with political support and information from outside the palace. Another harem rule to live by: scatter with one hand, gather with two.
"Tell me what's so funny this morning," Peresto asked.
"Prince Yusufeddin, Princesse Peresto," a girl said.
"What about him?"
No one spoke up. Finally, a girl said: "When the soldiers liberated the Prince from the softa, they found him in his carriage weeping like a baby, and..."
"And what?"
"And he had soiled his pants."
A new eruption of giggles.
The image made Peresto smile inwardly: it was the more funny because they all knew Yusufeddin to be a mean bully. Mostly, she was relieved the harem gossiped about Yusufeddin rather than about Jurad's disappearance. Her handling of the situation seemed to have closed the subject. She had not told her suite of women the truth. The truth was worth money and temptation makes the traitor.
With a stern look she asked: "Is that all the news you've got for me today?"
Another girl said: "Midhat Pasha has been reinstated."
With a wave of the hand, Peresto indicated she was already informed.
The girl said: "My Lady, do you also know the Sultan has brought back Huseyin Avni from exile to be reinstated as Minister of War?
Huseyin Avni? This was a complete surprise. A little over a year ago, the Sultan had exiled both Midhat Pasha and Huseyin Avni. The Sultan accused them of plotting against him. At the time, she had considered communicating her support to them, but she refrained, mostly because she distrusted Huseyin - he was a false and ambitious man.
Like Midhat Pasha, Huseyin Avni was also no friend of Sultan Abdulaziz. By bringing back his enemies in to high office the Sultan would nurture two snakes at his bosom. Was that Ignatieff's strategy? To surround the Sultan with his enemies to further isolate him? So he could feed him ruinous advice? By ceding to the rebellious softa he condoned the spreading of chaos and dissent, and weakened the heart of the empire. Whatever his reasons, Midhat's and Huseyin's tenure would be brief, the Valide would see to that.
Just before noon, Peresto was on her way with her suite trailing behind, through the Blue Saloon, past the rooms of the Sultan facing inwards towards the garden and those of the Valide facing the sea, and past the eunuchs who guarded the Gate of Felicity leading out of the harem to the throne room and the selamlik, the semi-public sphere of the palace reserved for men only, where the government conducted the affairs of state. A few, select women had access, but other than Mustafa, her suite did not. They would wait for her here, inside the harem doors.
A narrow corridor, more like a bridge, brought her to the latticed balconies which lined the four walls of the enormous throne room. From here, she could follow stately ceremonies without being seen by the men in the hall below. She shivered. It took three days for the central heating system to warm up the vast, marbled hall, but it always felt cold. Reading his mistress, Mustafa handed her a shawl.
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Author's note
In 1856 when the Crimean War was over and the Russians defeated, the British Ambassador organised a celebratory ball at the Embassy. It was a diplomatic triumph because, for the first time in history, the Sultan honoured a foreign embassy with his presence. The reactionary palace clique fought hard against it, arguing that it was a violation of his sacred privileges, but they did not prevail.
Like in the embedded image of a similar ball that took place a decade later at the British Embassy, Hamid's father, Sultan Medjid, was also seated on a throne from where he could watch the dancing. He must have been astonished to see the half-dressed wives and daughters of his Europeans allies, in the arms of men. In the eyes of the reactionaries and of many of his subjects, Sultan Medjid further abased himself by taking refreshments with his infidel host. Until that moment, only the Chief Eunuch had been privileged to serve his meals.
The clock could not be turned back on this breach of age old court etiquette: in the embedded image from 1869, we see Sultan Abdulaziz seated on the podium, between Sir Elliot and his wife.
