Black eunuchs, white slaves

A day at Topkapi Palace is not nearly enough to cover all that is there. For three hundred years, until it was moved across the water in the the 1850s, Topkapi was the home to the Sultan, his mother, his slaves, his cooks, and his government officials: the entire entourage that looked after the work of his council and his harem: some 5,000 folk in all. A lot of mouths to feed three times a day.

The palace, which really is a tiny city in and of itself, occupies the most strategic tip of the Peninsula with far reaching views out to the Sea of Marmara.

View from the palace across the sea

It is a sprawling array of outer and inner courtyards, ever decreasing in size: the outer ones holding buildings designed for governance; the inner ones, completely restricted to the family.

Courtyard of the Concubines in the Harem

The first and outer courtyard we came to contained the stables and kitchens and the very beautiful Courtyard of the Divan: three rooms of sumptuous tiles and soft divans arrayed for the comfort of the Sultan’s Viziers and advisors, who came here to solve problems of governance, or to receive foreign dignitaries and ambassadors. At any time, the Sultan could listen in from the Harem, as the adjoining wall was fitted with a fine grilled overhearing window, for just that purpose.

Gilt edged decor

The Treasury beyond holds the collection of the swords and costumes the sultans actually wore: many so encrusted with chain and gilt that they looked too heavy to contemplate wearing for terribly long, let alone in battle.  

Warrior garb

Then there were clock collections, porcelain collections, crown jewels, and Imperial costumes of the wide bodied cut, but softly draping style:  kaftans, costumes and slippers, many in the finest embroidered silk.  

Beautiful craftsmanship

Here, too, we found the Pavilion of the Holy Mantle which contains the sacred relics of war: one of these professing to be Moses’ walking stick.  Many others purported to be relics of Mohammed: a hair from his body, a letter written by him, his footprint cast in clay.  

Then, deep into the Harem we went, past the  Courtyard containing the Barracks of the Black Eunuchs, the Harem guards who kept an eye on the Sultan’s white slaves and chosen concubines who were forbidden to enter the areas beyond the Harem, but, who, very likely,  were forever conniving to get out from under the Valide Sultan’s orbit.   

Into the Valide Sultan’s apartments we went.   These were the private rooms for the Sultan’s mother, who was all powerful in the Harem.  She ran the place, whispering in the Sultan’s ear, advising as she was wont.    Often with disastrous consequences to some of his beloved advisors: many of whom lost their heads if they fell out with the Sultan’s mother.  

Dome detailing

Many of the salons, including those in the Sultan’s rooms are all blue, turquoise and peacock coloured tiles, outrageously opulent.  Some of the detailing in these private apartments has mother of pearl features which so exquisite it looks as though the walls have been inlaid with jewels. 

The Cage, the Crown Prince’s rooms, were able to be locked to help him avoid assassination.  Brothers, of other mothers, who wished to rule instead, were ready to skulk around the imperial courtyard with a dagger or a poisoned chalice at the ready for any opportunity to do the young prince in, so they might become the chosen one instead.  

Mother of pearl, like jewels

Throughout, there were fountains, installed in strategic positions, to prevent whispers travelling to the wrong ears.  Life was tenuous back then. Living long must have been an art form.  

Whispering fountains

oooOOOooo