Gülbahar Hatun

A scorching sun is beaming down in all its might directly on the palace.
It seems as if the lawn would catch fire if it weren’t for the shade of the
dense foliage of the ancient plane trees. Tall elm trees are arranged in a
row, like columns of a Grecian temple. The branches of the lilacs and the
laburnums, loaded with mauve and yellow florets respectively, are tangled
together on the iron railings. The rose bushes planted next to the bannisters
of the garden steps are ripe with hundreds of roses. When the air cools
somewhat in the evening, the perfume of these roses intensifies and wafts all
across the garden. It is the year 1484. The almond-shaped eyes of Gülbahar
Sultana, wife of Sultan Mehmed Khan, the Conqueror of Istanbul, are wet with
tears. She sits in the shade in a corner of her garden as she rereads the
letter she has written to her son Sultan Bayezid who is preparing for war
against Bogdan Voivod: “My hero, my son, the light of my eyes. My life is
empty without you. I miss you terribly. I haven’t seen your sweet face for
more than forty days. My Master, I fret for you. You’ll be gone to war soon
and I must hug you before you go. My Sultan, please forgive the unease of a
worried mother, but as you know you are everything to me!” Gülbahar Sultana
financed many benevolent institutions in Edirne and Tokat out of her own
pocket. Noteworthy is one of the conditions she imposed on the shelter for
the poor that she founded in Tokat: “Students, poor people and their guests
will be served breakfast and dinner free of charge. The feed of their animals
will also be supplied.” Gülbahar rests in peace in her mausoleum located in
the yard of Fatih Mosque.