The Past Tense Of Youth: The New favourite

On February 9, 2014October 9, 2014 By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Changing the world, Now and then, stories of mystery and romance

It was late afternoon and our precession had moved through the entrance gate and on past the imperial council chambers where various statesmen awaited an audience with the sultan. Behind the council chambers was the tower of justice and the armoury heavily patrolled by armed guards no doubt anticipating a break from their duties so that they could raid the nearby bakeries for fresh loaves and simit rings. We would continue on through the main gate to the courtyard of the concubines which is where I would alight the carriage along with my consorts and assigned guards and eunuch. Behind us came the servants carrying trunks loaded with the fabrics and other trinkets purchased from the markets. As we moved toward the pavilion we were greeted by pigeons playing some sort of game.

They would fly toward us and as soon as we put out our hands to provide a safe perch they would fly off . Were they carrying messages? Maybe there was a way afterall to contact the world outside. All the while I watched as Rana’s carriage continued on to the other end of the palace grounds. The courtyards and apartments of the favourites. I wondered how long it would be before we saw each other again. Not long I surmised as I too would be moving into their quarters though I doubted the sultan would have eyes for any woman other than Rana once he had summoned her. The three who had shared Rana’s carriage were now being led through the corridor to the bath house. I would be joining them after a meeting with the valide sultan. The others were now openly hostile toward me. ” You with your yellow hair pale as the moon ….. what makes you so special? Little comedienne with your tricks and your hidden curves …. why not fly away with your pigeons? ….. oh maybe you can’t fly at all …. maybe you are not so clever as you thought …. You may be favourite now but it won’t last Emine” I made my way to the imperial hall for my meeting with the valide sultan under guard of course.

My eunuch ,whose name was Jamahl , carried the chosen fabrics for her perousal. ” You have done well my dear” , she purred as as she traced her elegant but wrinkled little hand decked in golden rings, across the silk brocade. She smiled her cheshire smile and waved me out of her presense. Just as I reached the door she spoke again. ” You have been assigned to the new girl … Rana …. is it? ” I turned and smiled. I could not believe my luck. ” Yes I believe that is her name your excellency” . She turned away from me then toward the window from which she could see the Imperial hall. ” I believe she is just now being presented. ” I moved toward the valid sultan hoping for a glimpse. She did not turn again but in a very firm voice bade me leave immediately. I met with Jemahl who waited outside in the courtyard and was escorted to the bath house where I would be bathed, perfumed and robed before being moved to the court of the favourites.

The Past Tense Of Youth: Preparing the favourite

On January 16, 2014October 9, 2014 By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Changing the world, Now and then, stories of mystery and romance

Arriving at the palace that day in two carriages was nothing short of spectacular. The guards, Eunuchs and janissaries flanking us front,back and alongside created the image of grandeur generally reserved only for the valide sultan. Way at the back behind Rana’s carriage,I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of Gurel riding his white horse, moving ever closer to the window, trying to gain her attention. This procession was all for Rana the new favourite of favourites. There would be no escape now. She had been bought on the sultan’s command and would be taken straight to the apartment of the valide sultan to be prepared for presentation. I had found myself in the same predicament only days before. I had been escorted to the concubines quarters on leaving the room in which I had awoken by a black eunuch and had quickly been surrounded by other young women in various states of undress. “Emine” ,one of them had called me , “You must prepare quickly …. the sultan has called for you” . They descended the staircase on mass and were heading straight toward me. The eunuch seemed to have disappeared into thin air. “Emine what are you doing down here? Oh well no time now … he’ll be here any moment”

There was such excitement in their voices. For someone to be promoted from concubine to favourite appeared to be quite an honour in their eyes. “What do you wear today Emine”?… a young girl leaning over the bannister of the staircase had asked me in a sweet sing song voice. “Suddenly you have removed the tapers and revealed your shape” The women began to form a circle and drew me into it. A man entered through a side entrance and although I was bade to keep my eyes closed I could not help peeking which was not easy as we all had our backs to him. He was medium in stature with long black hair and a beard. He wore long red robes lined with fur and silk brocade over a golden kaftan with a jewelled collar. His turban bore a a gold aigrette ornamented with a ruby in a cluster of diamonds. I gathered this must be he. The great one who would soon welcolme me as favourite. I felt the touch of his hand on my face and then heard the footsteps fade. We had all opened our eyes at the moment we heard the door shut and the others began to congratulate me. I was then led through an arched doorway to an elaborately tiled bath house where the women bathed with me and then annointed my naked body in scents and perfumes before draping me in a long colourful bathrobe. The eunuch returned for me and led me down a long corridor and through a courtyard to a small room on the other side. I gathered this was a dressing room as it was furnished only with a small sofa covered in satin cushions for comfortable viewing and a few screens for quick changes.

He opened a chest full of clothes in front of one of the screens and chose three robes for me to try. Once I had done this and made my choice another trunk full of costume jewellery, bustiers, and long pieces of fabric was presented with the idea being that I should drape myself in whatever I wanted. He motioned for me to choose a long piece of white silk chiffon and wear it as one would a wedding veil covering my face in the process. When all this was done and I was duly tranformed I was taken to the salon of the valide sultan. The Mother of the sultan remained seated in front of a very large window draped with heavy gold brocade curtains.

The door to the salon was opened by a girl younger than I dressed in similar attire probably from the same trunk. The eunuch ushered me into the room and followed close behind. I was, of course terrified, having been thrown into this strange world of the harem which had been dissolved before I was even born. When she spoke it was with an air of superiority in a low sugar coated tone with a smile meant to simultaneously charm and disarm her audient. She rose from her sofa and walked toward me in her rustling taffeta gown adorned with mother of pearl and took my hand in hers. After she had surveyed me from top to bottom she addressed me thus … ” Emine I do believe you are almost ready. You will remain in your quarters and continue as a servant for two days more after which you will be sent for and then my dear your training shall commence. It has been a long time coming. Go now” … I turned and went back through the courtyard where the eunuch waited for me. How would I survive this?

Would I ever be able to return to my world? I knew that I would have to play my part and try to belong to this place and somehow, some way I would find my way back . In the meantime I would follow the signs that I knew would lead to my destiny.

© Renee Dallow ( Hybiscus Bloom ) 16/1/2014

The Past Tense Of Youth: Chosen to dance

On January 2, 2014October 9, 2014 By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Now and then, Romantic interludes, stories of mystery and romance

The carriage ride back to Topkapi was quite an event for me for it was a whole new world full of noise and colour and …. dust.
So much dust rising up from the winding roads caking the curtained windows from which I viewed the passing villagers and the beautiful countryside which they had the freedom to wander at leisure.
The women, though veiled, appeared contented as they went about their family errands.

I shared the carriage with two black eunuchs and with another of the servants much younger than I . She was , in fact, my dresser as well as being a sort of consort there to watch me and report my every move back to the sultan. I have mentioned the sultan many times but have not yet described him and so I will attempt to do so now from my own very distanced and very subjective point of view not having all the facts. The man who had reigned as sultan at the time of my entrance to the harem in the year of 1908 was Abdhul Hamid the second. I was twenty one years old and had apparently been there since 1897 when the sultan’s men had taken me from my parents in our small Albanian village at the age of ten. I had only fleeting memories of that life but the memories of my life in Cumberland at Greylin castle in the years up to and including 1936 were all too clear.

Abduhl Hamid 11 was a strange but kindly little man who was to me like a father figure though he was nothing like my father back in England at all. The sultan was also very cultured and was a lover of European operas and of all the arts. He also loved to design furniture and specialised in exquisite wood turned chairs. That very morning I had heard from others in the harem that a visiting opera company would be performing for the sultan and for select officials and dignitaries at Yildiz Palace close by and that his excellency was trying to decide on which of his favourites should dance for the company at curtain close. As I sat there in the carriage, listening to the whirr of wooden wheels and the clanking of spokes rotating in their sockets and pondered on the likelihood of my being chosen to dance. Behind us was another carriage escorted by carefully chosen guards and at least a dozen janissaries on fine horses. In this carraige was the divine Rana and the three others purchased on that day. I could see the sultan’s men jostling for a place beside the carraige door so that they could peer in and gaze at the circassian beauty who was as unobtainable to them as was a mountain of gold. I knew that Rana , after appearing before the sultan, would be chosen.

How could he resist her? She was by far the most exotic creature I had ever seen. Her wild raven hair would surely complement my honey locks and we would make quite a contrast. I peered out through the slits in the window bracket with only a gauze veil to sheild my mouth from rising dust particles and thought I noticed a lone horseman following her entourage. A white horse. A dazzling white horse. It was he. Gurel. My Gurel come to save us. I thought then of the painting I had seen in ‘The Long Hall’ at ‘ The Hydro Majestic’ and realised that we three would be forever entwined but that the love Gurel felt for Rana was not the same as the love he would feel for me. Somehow this understanding seemed to make everything right. All would be the way it was meant to be and there was nothing I could do to change it. I must just be content to love for the sake of love and to be able to share the one I had chosen with one who would make him whole.

For without having loved Rana his soul would never be free and he would never have found me. ‘The Blue Mountains’ in that far distant land of Australia were of the same hue as the Caucases where Rana and Gurel had roamed as gypsies and danced with nature as their universe. How I longed to emulate that wild spirit but knew that to do so would be to dishonour my calling. I must remain true to myself. I was the slow burning flame never to be extinguished.

The Past Tense Of Youth: The unveiling

On December 15, 2013October 17, 2014 By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Romantic interludes, stories of mystery and romance

So I would be his muse in these times just as I had been in times past. I did not yet know of his other love but I felt her presence. There was a sadness in him that I couldn’t understand. A look in his eyes that only lasted a brief instant and then was gone. He would gaze at me with a tenderness that made me feel like a protected child safe and secure in the strength of his arms. As I had never particularly wanted to grow up this suited me just fine. Perhaps this other being that I felt was purely a case of my imagination running away with me. Perhaps the sadness in his eyes was merely a yearning for his home and family in Turkey. The painting had confirmed my belief that ours would be a lasting love no matter what the world decided to throw our way Mr Foy had in his collection in ‘ The Long Hall’ quite a few paintings by Lord Leighton. Among them being a painting entitled ‘ Light of The Harem’ which was the painting professor Humphries had come so far to aquire. A romantic view of life in the East where beautiful women were kept from the eyes of men within the walls of great palaces. This was a painting of a woman unveiling.

She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. A goddess in the glow of an etherial light that seemed to consume her. She was attended by a young girl holding up a mirror to her face. The young girl looked again remarkably like myself as a child. Then my eyes fell upon a painting that left me breathless. Three figures on a cliff face who appeared to be running from something. Set in ancient times and in a Grecian setting these three belonged only to each other. The blonde girl below with her arms outstretched waits with her young man for the other woman to leap from her cliff top pedestal and embrace them with her glory. Who was this beauty that I had never met,never heard of and never even seen before? Why was it that I felt her life force? With Gurel involved in meetings and structural surveys on the Belgravia wing for most of the day I had been left to my own devices and had created quite a story in my head after having spent so much time in the hotel gallery. I talked incessantly about my theories with Gurel but he would laugh and chide my antics with good humoured mockery. “And does the dark prince rescue them both and ride off into the sunset on his winged white horse Pegasus? Two would be quite a burden don’t you think? I had to agree with him it was pretty fantastical and we had been so happy there in our mountain paradise that it would have been a shame to allow me to escape from the reality of it all away into my head where I could not be reached. My parents were extremely impressed with professor Humphries and spent alot of time with him over the duration of our stay which meant that Gurel and I were for the most part left to ourselves , although , I was always keenly aware , that my parents were keeping a strict eye on my comings and goings. I had the most wonderful dreams of his leading me down into the valley on a great white horse. In this dream I was naked like lady Godiva.

How I longed for him to take full advantage of my innocence but he was way too respectable for that and I had decided to wait patiently for the truly spectacular wedding night that I knew would come very soon. When my father told me that it was time to return to England I was stunned. It was as if my life had only begun right there at The Hydro Majestic and all memory of Cumberland and Greylin castle had seemed to have been erased from my mind. The return voyage home had been a long one and try as they might my parents could not make me smile. It would be months before I would be reunited with Gurel who had promised to come to England the following Christmas when his contract was finished. There were the usual on board activities and stop overs with day trips on arrival to various ports but I was not interested. Oh how I longed for the day when we could be married and finally consumate our love. Was I a wanton wench with the morals of a scullian maid? Maybe so but I was in love and I was obsessed with dreams of the future. So when Gurel arrived on the doorstep that day with his dark hair shining in the afternoon sun I was ready to give all of myself. We had wandered through the gardens of Greylin where I had so often wandered alone and had traced the river hamlets whilst waiting for my parents to arrive home from the village.

We came to rest under my favourite elm tree. The hammock I had attached to a lower branch still swung back and forth in the breeze. I manouvered myself into it but when Gurel tried to join me it turned upside down and sent us rolling down the river bank. Saturated and covered in mud but dileriously happy we were oblivious to everything around us. Aware only of each others shape and form suddenly exposed we found ourselves without restraint. By the time we made it back to the main hall where my parents, anxious to share the happy news of wedding plans waited, we were quite overcome with embarrassment. Still flush with the rapture of abandoned principles we stood before them and broke the news of our engagement. I think my parents had guessed at our antics but had chosen to turn a blind eye. How idyllic it all was back then and how completely ominous all at once. For despite the blissful union of our hearts and minds there was still that feeling that something or someone was not there and should be.

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