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E 0 T H E N
E 0 T H E N
A, W. KINGLAKE
Tlphs rj'Ji re Kal 7}\iov avaroAas eiroteeTo ttji' 6S6y.
— Herod, vii. 58.
NEW EDITION
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS
EDIXBURGH AND LONDON
MDCCCLXXXV
All Rinhls reserred
PEEFACE TO THE FIKST EDITION.
ADDRESSED BY THE AUTHOR TO ONE
OF HIS FRIENDS.
When you first entertained the idea of travelling
in the East, you asked me to send you an outline
of the tour which I had made, in order that you
might the better be able to choose a route for
yourself. In answer to this request, I gave you
a large French map, on which the course of my
journey had been carefully marked; but I did
not conceal fjom myself that this was rather a
dry mode for ;i man to adopt, when he wished
to impart the rtjsults of his experience to a dear
and intimate friend. Now, long before the period
of your planning an oriental tour, I had intended
to write some account of my Eastern travels. I
had, indeed, begun the task and had failed; 1
had begun it a second time, and failing again, had
abandoned my attempt with a sensation of utter
vi Preface.
distaste. I was unable to speak out, and chiefly,
I think, for this reason — that I knew not to
whom I was speaking. It might be you, or
perhaps our Lady of Bitterness, who would read
my story ; or it might be some member of the
Royal Statistical Society ; and how on earth was
I to write in a way that would do for all three ?
Well, your request for a sketch of my tour
suggested to me the idea of complying with your
wish by a revival of my twice-abandoned attempt.
I tried ; and the pleasure and confidence which I
felt in speaking to you soon made my task so easy,
and even amusing, that after a while (though not
in time for your tour) I completed the scrawl
from which this book was originally printed.
The very feeling, however, which enabled me to
write thus freely, prevented me from robing my
thoughts in that grave and decorous style which
I should have maintained if I had professed to
lecture the public. "V^Hiilst I feigned to myself
that you, and you only, were listening, I could
not by possibility speak very solemnly. Heaven
forbid that I should talk to my own genial friend
as though he were a great and enlightened com-
munity, or any other respectable aggregate !
Yet I well understood that the mere fact of
my professing to speak to you, rather than to the
public generally, could not perfectly excuse me
Preface. vii
for printing a narrative too roughly worded ; and
accordingly, in revising the proof-sheets, I have
struck out those phrases which seemed to be less
fit for a published volume than for intimate con-
versation. It ■ is hardly to be expected, however,
that correction of this kind should be perfectly
complete, or that the almost boisterous tone in
which many parts of the book were originally
written should be thoroughly subdued. I ven-
ture, therefore, to ask that the familiarity of lan-
guage still possibly apparent in the work, may
be laid to the account of our delightful intimacy,
rather than to any presumptuous motive. I feel,
as you know, much too timidly — too distantly,
and too respectfully towards the public, to be
capable of seeking to put myself on terms of
easy fellowship with strange and casual readers.
It is right to forewarn people (and I have tried
to do this as well as I can by my studiously
unpromising title-page''') that the book is quite
superficial in its cb^racter. I have endeavoured
to discard from it all valuable matter derived from
the works of others, and it appears to me that my
efforts in this direction have been attended with
* "Eothen " is, I hope, almost the only hard word to be found
in the book : it is written in Greek T\iiiQiv, — {Attict, with an aspi-
rated € instead of the tj), — and signifies, "from the early dawn"
— "from the East." — Bonn. Lex., 4th edition.
viii Preface.
great success. I believe I may truly acknowledge,
that from all details of geographical discovery or
antiquarian research — from all display of "sound
learning and religious knowledge " — from all
historical and scientific illustrations — from all
useful statistics — from all political disquisitions
— and from all good moral reflections, the volume
is thoroughly free.
My excuse for the book is its truth : you and I
know a man, fond of hazarding elaborate jokes,
who, whenever a story of his happens not to go
down as wit, will evade the awkwardness of the
failure by bravely maintaining that all he has said
is pure fact. I can honestly take this decent
though humble mode of escape. My narrative is
not merely lighteous in matters of fact (where
fact i:> in question), but it is true in this larger
sense,- -At conveys — not those impressions which
ought to hoA'ie ftt!c?i produced upon any "well-consti-
tuted mind," but those which were really and truly
received at the time of his rambles by a headstrong
and nut very amiable traveller, whose pngudices
in favour of other people's notions were then
exceedingly slight. As I have felt so I have writ-
ten ; and the result is, that tliere will often be
found in my narrative a jarring discord between
the associations properly belonging to interesting
sites, and the tone in which I speak of them. This
Preface. ix
seemingly perverse mode of treating the subject is
forced upon me by my plan of adhering to senti-
mental truth, and really does not result from any
impertinent wish to tease or trifle with readers. I
ought, for instance, to have felt as stiongly in
Judaea as in Galilee, but it was not so in fact : the
religious sentiment (born in solitude) which had
heated my brain in the Sanctuary of Nazareth
was rudely chilled at the foot of Zion by disen-
chanting scenes, and this change it^ accordingly
disclosed by the perfectly worldly tone in which
I speak of Jerusalem and Bethlehem,
My notion of dwelling precisely upon those
matters which happened to interest me, and upon
none other, would of course be intolerable in a
regular book of travels. If I had been passing
through countries not previously explored, it would
have been sadly perverse to withhold careful de-
scriptions of admirable objects, merely because my
own feelings of interest in them may have hap-
pened to flag ; but where the countries which one
visits have been thoroughly and ably described,
and even artistically illustrated, by others, one is
fully at liberty to say as little (though not quite
so much) as one chooses. Now a traveller is a
creature not always looking at sights ; he remem-
bers (how often !) the happy land of his birth — he
has, too, his moments of humble enthusiasm about
X Preface.
fire and food, about shade and drink ; and if lie
gives to these feelings anything like the promi-
nence which really belonged to them at the time
of his travelling, he will not seem a very good
teacher. Once having determined to write the
sheer truth concerning the things which chiefly
have interested him, he must, and he will, sing a
sadly long strain about Self ; he will talk for whole
pages together about his bivouac-fire, and ruin the
Kuins of Baalbec with eight or ten cold lines.
But it seems to me that this egotism of a
traveller, however incessant — however shameless
^ and obtrusive — must still convey some true ideas
of the country through which he has passed. His
very selfishness — his habit of referring the whole
external world to his own sensations — compels him,
as it were, in his writings to observe the laws of
perspective ; — he tells you of objects, not as he
knows them to be, but as they seem to him. The
people and the things that most concern him
personally, however mean and insignificant, take
large proportions in his picture, because they stand
so near to him. He shows you his dragoman,
and the gaunt features of his Arabs — his tent —
his kneeling camels — his baggage strewed upon
the sand : but tlie proper wonders of the land, —
the cities — the mighty ruins and monuments of
bygone ages — lie throws back faintly in the dis-
Preface. xi
tance. It is thus that he felt, and thus he strives
to repeat the scenes of the Elder World. You
may listen to him for ever without learning much
in the way of statistics : hut perhaps, if you hear
with him long enough, you may find yourself
slowly and faintly impressed with the realities of
Eastern travel.
My scheme of refusing to dwell upon matters
which failed to interest my own feelings has been
departed from in one instance — namely, in my
detail of the late Lady Hester Stanhope's conver-
sation on supernatural topics. The truth is that 1
have been much questioned on this subject, and I
thought that my best plan would be to write down
at once all that I could ever have to say concerning
the personage whose career has excited so much
curiosity amongst Englishwomen. The result is,
that my account of the lady goes to a length which
is not justified either by the importance of the
subject or by the extent to which it interested
the narrator.
You will see that I constantly speak of " my
People," " my Party," " my Arabs," and so on,
using terms which might possibly seem to imply
that I moved about with a pompous retinue. This,
of course, was not the case. I travelled with the
simplicity proper to my station, as one of the in-
dustrious class, who was not flying from his country
xii Preface.
because of ennui, but was strengtbemng his wiU,
and tempering the metal of his nature, for that life
of toil and conflict in which he is now engaged.
But an Englishman, journeying in tlie East, must
necessarily have with him dragomen capable of in-
terpreting the oriental languages ; the absence of
wheeled-carriages obliges him to use several beasts
of burthen for his baggage, as well as lor himself
and his attendants ; the owners of the horses or
camels, with tluir slaves or servants, fall in as part
of his train, and altogether the cavalcade becomes
rather numerous, without, however, occasioning any
proportionate increase of expense. When a traveller
speaks of all these followers in mass, he calls them
his " people," or his " troop," or his " party," with-
out intending to make you believe that he is there-
fore a Sovereign Prince.
You wHl see that I. sometimes follow the cus-
tom of the Scots in describing my fellow-coun-
trymen by the names of their paternal homes.
Of course all these explanations are meant for
casual readers. To you, without one syllable of
excuse or deprecation, and in all the confidence of
a friendship that never yet was clouded, I give
the long-promised volume, and add but this one
" Good-bye ! " for I dare not stand greeting you
here.
CON T E N T S.
CUAP.
FACE
I.
OVER THE BORDER, .
1
II.
TURKISH TRAVELLING, . •
17
III.
COXSTANTINOPLE,
36
IV.
THE TROAD, ....
49
V.
INFIDEL SlIYRNA,
59
VI.
GREEK MARINERS,
75
VII.
CYPRUS,
88
VIII.
LADY HESTER STANHOPE, .
98
IX.
THE SANCTUARY', . .
. 133
X.
THE MONKS OF PALESTINE,
. 138
XI.
■ GALILEE, .....
. H8
XII.
MY FIRST BIVOUAC, . " .
. 154
XIIT.
THE DEAD SEA,
. 165
XIV.
THE BLACK TENTS,
. 174
XV.
PASSAGE OP THE JORDAN, .
. 178
XVI.
TERRA SANTA, ....
. 187
XIV
Contents.
XVII.
THE DESERT, ....
. 211
XVIII.
CAIRO AND THE PLAGUE, .
. 244
XIX.
THE PYRAMIDS,
. 280
XX,
THE SPHYKX, ....
. 285
XXI.
CAIRO TO SUEZ,
. 287
XXII.
SUEZ,
. 298
XXIII.
SUEZ TO GAZA,
. . 307
XXIV.
GAZA TO NABLOUS, .
. 317
XXV.
MARIAM,
. 324
XXVI.
THE PROPHET DAMOOR,
. 336
XXVII.
DAMASCUS,
. 343
XXVIII.
PASS OP THE LEBANON, .
. 354
XXIX.
SURPRISE OF SATALIEH, .
. 360
EOT II E N.
CHAPTEE I.
OVER THE BORDER.
At Semlin I still was encompassed by the scenes
and the sounds of familiar life ; the din of a busy
world still vexed and cheered me ; the unveiled
faces of women still shone in the light of day. Yet,
whenever I chose to look southward, T saw the
Ottoman's fortress — austere, and darkly impending
high over the vale of the Danube — historic Bel-
grade. I had come, as it were, to the end of this
wheel-going Europe, and now my eyes would see
the splendour and havoc of the East.
The two frontier towns are less than a gunshot
apart, yet their people hold no communion. The
Hungarian on the north, and the Turk and the
Servian on the southern side of the Save, are as
much asunder as though there were fifty broad pro-
A
2 Eothen.
vinces that lay in the path between tliem. Of the
men that hustled around me iu the streets of
Semlin, there was not, perhaps, one who had ever
gone down to look upon the stranger race dwelling
under the walls of that opposite castle. It is the
plague, and the dread of the plague, that divide
the one people from the other. All coming and
going stands forbidden by the terrors of the yellow
flag. If you dare to break the laws of the quar-
antine, you will be tried with military haste ; the
court will scream out your sentence to you from a
tribunal some fifty yards off; the priest, instead of
gently whispering to you the sweet hopes of reli-
gion, will console you at duelling distance, and
after that you will find yourself carefully shot, and
carelessly buried in the ground of the Lazaretto.
When all was in order for our departure, we
walked down to the precincts of the quarantine
establishment, and here awaited us the " compro-
mised " ■''^ officer of the Austrian Government, whose
duty it is to superintend the passage of the fron-
tier, and who for that purpose lives in a state of
perpetual excommunication. The boats with their
" compromised " rowers were also in readiness.
After coming in contact with any creature or
* A " compromised " person is one who has been in contact
with people or things supposed to be capable of conveying infec-
tion. A8 a general rule, the whole Ottoman empire lies constantly
under this terrible ban. The " yellow flag" is the ensi;;n of the
quarantine establishment.
Over the Bo7'der. 3
tiling belonging to the Ottoman empire it would
be impossible for us to return to the Austrian ter-
ritory without undergoing an imprisonment of four-
teen days in the Lazaretto. We feltj therefore, that
before we committed ourselves, it was important to
take care that none of the arrangements necessary
for the journey had been forgotten ; and in our
anxiety to avoid such a misfortune we managed
the work of departure from Semlin with nearly as
much solemnity as if we had been departing this
life. Some obliging persons from whom we had
received civilities during our short stay in the
place, came down to say their farewell at the
river's side ; and now, as we stood with them at
the distance of three or four yards from the " com-
promised " officer, they asked if we were perfectly
certain that we had wound up all our affairs in
Christendom, and whether we had no parting re-
quests to make. We repeated the caution to our
servants, and took anxious thought lest by any
possibility we might be cut off from some cherished
object of affection : — were they quite sure that
nothing had been forgotten — that there was no
fragrant dressing-case with its gold-compelling let-
ters of credit from w^hich we might be parting for
ever ? ISTo — every one of our treasures lay safely
stowed in the boat, and we — we were ready to fol-
low. Now, therefore, we shook hands with our
Semlin friends, and they immediately retreated for
4 Eothcn.
three or four paces, so as to leave us in the centre
of a space between them and the " compromised "
officer ; the hatter then advanced, and asking once
more if we had done with the civilised world, held
forth his hand — I met it with mine, and there
was an end to Christendom for many a day to
come.
We soon neared the southern bank of the river,
but no sounds came down from the blank walls
above, and there was no living thing that we could
yet see, except one great hovering bird of the vul-
ture race flying low and intent, and wheeling round
and round over the pest-accused city.
But presently there issued from the postern a
group of human beings, — beings with immortal
souls, and possibly some reasoning faculties, but to
me the grand point was this, that they had real,
substantial, and incontrovertible turbans ; they
made for the point towards which we were steer-
ing ; and when at last I sprang upon the shore, I
heard and saw myself now first surrounded by men
of Asiatic blood. I have since ridden through the
land of the Osmanlees — from the Servian border
to the Golden Horn — from the Gulf of Satalieh to
the Tomb of Achilles ; but never have I seen such
liyper-Turk looking fellows as those who received
me on the banks of the Save. They were men in
the liumblest order of life, having come to meet
our boat in the hope of earning something by car-
Ovcj' the Border. 5
lying our luggage up to the city ; "but, poor tliougli
they were, it was plain that they were Turks of
the proud old school, and had not yet forgotten
the fierce, careless bearing of their once victorious
race.
Though the province of Servia generally has
obtained a kind of independence, yet Belgrade, as
being a place of strength on the frontier, is still
garrisoned by Turkish troops under the command
of a Pasha. Whether the fellows who now sur-
rounded us were soldiers or peaceful inhabitants I
did not understand : they wore the old Turkish
costume ; vests and jackets of many and brilliant
colours divided from the loose petticoat-trousers by
heavy volumes of shawl, so thickly folded around
their waists as to give the meagre wearers some-
thing of the dignity of true corpulence. This cinc-
ture enclosed a whole bundle of weapons : no man
bore less tKan one brace of immensely long pistols
and a yataghan (or cutlass), with a dagger or two of
various shapes and sizes. Most of these arms were
inlaid with silver highly burnished, and they shone
all the more lustrously for being worn along with
garments decayed and even tattered (this careful-
ness of his arms is a point of honour with the Os-
manlee ; he never allows his bright yataghan to
suffer from his own adversity) : then the long
drooping mustachios, and the ample folds of the
once M'hite turbans that lowered over the piercing
6 Eothen.
eyes, and the haggard features of the men, gave
them an air of gloomy pride, and that appearance
of trying to he disdainful under difficulties which
one almost always sees in those of the Ottoman
people who live and rememher old times ; they
looked as if they would have thought themselves
more usefully, more honourably, and more piously
employed in cutting our throats than in carrying
our portmanteaus. The faithful Steel (Methley's
Yorkshire servant) stood aghast for a moment at
the sight of his master's luggage upon the shoul-
ders of these warlike porters ; and when at last we
began to move, he could scarcely avoid turning
round to cast one affectionate look towards Christ-
endom, but quicldy again he marched on with the
steps of a man — not frightened exactly, but sternly
prepared for death, or the Koran, or even for plural
wives.
The Moslem quarter of a city is lonely and deso-
late ; you go up and down, and on, over shelving
and hillocky paths through the narrow lanes walled
in by blank, windowless dwellings ; you come out
upon an open space strewed with the black ruins
that some late fire has left ; you pass by a moun-
tain of castaway things, the rubbish of centuries,
and on it you see numbers of big, wolf-like dogs
lying torpid under the sun, with limbs outstretched
to the full, as if tliey were dead ; storks or cranes,
sitting fearless upon the low roofs, look gravely
Over the Border. 7
down upon you ; the still air that you breathe is
loaded with the scent of citron and pomegranate
rinds scorched by the sun, or (as you approach the
bazaar) with the dry, dead perfume of strange spices
You long for some signs of life, and tread the ground
more heavily, as though you would wake the sleep-
ers with the heel of your boot ; but the foot falls
noiseless upon the crumbling soil of an Eastern
city, and silence follows you still. Again and
again you meet turbans, and faces of men, but they
have nothing for you, — no welcome — no wonder —
no wrath — no scorn ; they look upon you as we
do upon a December's fall of snow — as a " season-
able," unaccountable, uncomfortable work of God
that may have been sent for some good purpose, to
be revealed hereafter.
Some people had come down to meet us with an
invitation from the Pasha, and we wound our way
up to the castle. At the gates there were groups
of soldiers, some smoking, and some lying flat like
corpses iipon the cool stones. We went through
courts, ascended steps, passed along a corridor, and
walked into an airy, whitewashed room, with a
European clock at one end of it, and Moostapha
Pasha at the other : the fine, old, bearded potentate
looked very like Jove — like Jove, too, in the midst
of his clouds, for the silver fumes of the narguiU ■^'''
liung lightly circKng round him.
* The narguiR is a water-pipe upon the plan of the hookah,
8 EotJiai.
The Pasha received 'us with the smooth, kind,
gentle manner that belongs to well-bred Osmau-
lees; then he lightly clapped his hands, and
instantly the sound filled all the lower end of
the room with slaves : a syllable dropped from
Ills lips ; it bowed all heads, and conjured away
the attendants like ghosts (their coming and their
going was thus swift and quiet, because their feet
were bare, and they passed through no door, but
only by the yielding folds of a purdcr). Soon
the coffee-bearers appeared, every man carrying
separately his tiny cup in a small metal stand ;
and presently to each of us there came a pipe-
bearer — a grave and solemn functionary, who first
rested the bowl of the tchibouque at a measured
distance on the floor, and then, on this axis,
wheeled round the long cherry tube, and grace-
fully presented it on half- bended knee. Already
the fire (well kindled beforehand) was glowing
secure in the bowl ; and so, when I pressed the
amber lip to mine, there was no coyness to con-
quer— the willing fume came up, and answered my
slightest sigh, and followed softly every breath in-
spired, till it touched me with some faint sense
and understanding of Asiatic contentment.
Asiatic contentment ! Yet hardly, perhaps, one
but more gracefully fashioned ; the smoke is drawn Lj' a very long
flexible tube that winds its suake-like way from the vase to the
lips of the beatified smoker.
Over the Border. 9
hour before I had been wanting my bill, and ring-
ing for waiters in a shrill and busy hotel.
In the Ottoman dominions there is scarcely any
hereditary influence except that belonging to the
family of the Sultan ; and wealth, too, is a highly
volatile blessing, not easily transmitted to the
descendants of the owner. From these causes it
results, that the people standing in the place of
nobles and gentry, are official personages ; and
though many (indeed the greater number) of
these potentates are humbly born and bred, you
will seldom, I think, find them wanting in that
polished smoothness of manner and those well-
undulating tones which belong to the best Osman-
lees. The truth is, that most of the men in
authority have risen from their humble station by
the arts of the courtier, and they keep in their
high estate those gentle powers of fascination to
which they owe their success. Yet, unless you
can contrive to learn a little of the language, you
will be rather bored by your visits of ceremony ;
the intervention of the dragoman is fatal to the
spirit of conversation. I think I should mislead
you if I were to attempt to give the substance of
any particular conversation with orientals. A
traveller may write and say that " tlie Pasha of
So-and-so was particularly interested in the vast
progress which has been made in the application
of steam, and appeared to understand the structure
I o Eothen.
of our machinery — that he remarked upon the
gigantic results of our manufacturing industry —
showed that he possessed considerable knowledge
of our Indian affairs, and of the constitution of
the Company, and expressed a lively admiration of
the many sterling qualities for which the people
of England are distinguished." But the heap
of commonplaces thus quietly attributed to the
Pasha will have been founded perhaps on some
such talking as this : —
Pasha. — The Englishman is welcome ; most
blessed among hours is this, the hour of his
coming.
Dragoman (to the Traveller). — The Pasha x^ays
you his compliments.
Tro.veller. — Give him my best compliments in
return, and say I'm delighted to have the honour
of seeing him.
Dragoman (to the Pasha). — His Lordship, this
Englishman, Lord of London, Scorner of Ireland,
Suppressor of France, has quitted his governments,
and left his enemies to breathe for a moment, and
has crossed tlie broad waters in strict disguise, with
a small but eternally faithful retinue of followers,
in order that he miglit look upon the bright coun-
tenance of the Pasha among Pashas — the Pasha of
the everlasting Pashalik of Karagholookoldour.
Traveller (to liis Dragoman). — What on earth
have you been saying about London ? The Pasha
Over the Border. 1 1
will be taking me for a mere Cockney. Have not
I told you always to say, that I am from a branch
of the family of Mudcombe Park, and that I am
to be a magistrate for the county of Bedfordshire,
only I've not qualified ; and that I should have
been a deputy -lieutenant, if it had not been for
the extraordinary conduct of Lord ]\Iountpromise ;
and that I was a candidate for Boughton-Sold-
borough at the last election, and that I should
have won easy if my committee had not been
bribed. I wish to heaven that if you do say any-
thing about me, you'd tell the simple truth !
Dragoman — n's silent].
Pasha. — What says the friendly Lord of Lon-
don ? is there aught that I can grant him within
the Pashalik of Karagholookoldour ?
Dragoman (growing sulky and literal). — This
friendly Englishman — this branch of Mudcombe
— this head purveyor of Boughton-Soldborough —
this possible policeman of Bedfordshire — is recount-
ing his achievements and the number of his titles.
Pasha. — The end of his honours is more distant
than the ends of the earth, and the catalogue of
his glorious deeds is brighter than the firmament
of heaven !
Dragoman (to the Traveller). — The Pasha con-
gratulates your Excellency.
Traveller. — About Boughton-Soldborougli ? The
deuce he does ! — luit I want to get at his views in
12 Eothen.
relation to tlie present state of the Ottoman em-
pire. Tell him the Houses of Parliament have met,
and that there has been a speech from the Throne
pledging England to maintain the integrity of the
Sultan's dominions.
Dragoman (to the Pasha). — This branch of Mud-
combe, this possible policeman of Bedfordshire, in-
forms your Highness that in England the talking
houses have met, and that the integrity of the
Sultan's dominions has been assured for ever and
ever by a speech from the velvet chair.
/'as/ia.— Wonderful chair ! AVonderful houses !
— whirr ! whirr ! all by wheels ! — whiz ! whiz ! all
by steam ! — wonderful chair ! wonderful houses !
wonderful people ! — whirr ! whirr I all by wheels !
■ — -whiz ! whiz ! all by steam !
Traveller (to the Dragoman). — What does the
Pasha mean by that whizzing ? he does not mean
to say, does he, that our Government will ever
abandon their pledges to the Sultan ?
Dragoman. — No, your Excellency, but he says
the English talk by wheels and by steam.
Traveller. — That's an exaggeration ; but say
that the English really have carried machinery to
great perfection. Tell the Pasha (he'll be struck
with tliat) that wlienever we have any disturb-
ances to put down, even at two or three hundred
miles from London, we can send troops by the
thousand to the scene of action in a few hours.
Over the Border. 1 3
Dragoman (recovering his temper and freedom
of speech). — His Excellency, this Lord of Mud-
combe, observes to your Highness, that whenever
the Irish, or the French, or the Indians rebel
against the English, whole armies of soldiers and
brigades of artillery are dropped into a mighty
chasm called Euston Square, and, in the biting of
a cartridge, they rise up again in Manchester, or
Dublin, or Paris, or Delhi, and utterly exterminate
the enemies of England from the face of the earth.
Fasha. — I know it — I know all ; the particu-
lars have been faithfully related to me, and my
mind comprehends locomotives. The armies of
the English ride upon the vapours of boihng
caldrons, and their horses are flaming coals ! —
whirr! whirr! all by wheels! — whiz! whiz! all
by steam !
Traveller (to his Dragoman).- — I wish to have
the opinion of an unprejudiced Ottoman gentleman
as to the prospects of our English commerce and
manufactures ; just ask the Pasha to give me his
views on the subject.
Pasha, (after having received the communication
of the Dragoman). — The ships of the English
swarm like flies ; their printed calicoes cover the
whole earth, and by the side of their swords the
blades of Damascus are blades of grass. All
India is but an item in the ledger-books of the
merchants whose lumber - rooms are filled with
1 4 Eothen.
ancient thrones ! — wliirr ! whirr ! all by wheels !
— whiz ! whiz .' all by steam !
Dragoman. — The Pasha compliments the cutlery
of England, and also the East India Company.
Tmvcllcr. — The Pasha's right about the cutlery :
I tried my scimitar with the common officers'
swords belonging to our fellows at Malta, and
they cut it like the leaf of a novel. Well (to
the Dragoman), tell the Pasha I am exceed-
ingly gratified to find that he entertains such a
high opinion of our manufacturing energy, but I
should like him to know, though, that we have got
something in England besides that. These foreign-
ers are always fancying that we have nothing but
ships and railways, and East India Companies ;
do just tell the Pasha, that our rural districts
deserve his attention, and that even within the
last two hundred years there has been an evident
improvement in the culture of the turnip ; and if
he does not take any interest about that, at all
events you can explain that we have our virtues
in the country — that we are a truth-telling people,
and, like the Osmanlees, are faithful in the per-
formance of our promises. Oh ! and by the by,
wliilst you are about it, you may as well just say.
at the end, that the Britisli yeoman is still, thank
God ! the British yeoman.
Pasha (after hearing the Dragoman), — It is
true, it is true : through all Feringhistan the
Over the Border. 15
Euglish aie foremost and best; for the Eussians
are drilled swine, and the Germans are sleeping
babes, and the ItaKans are the servants of songs,
and the French are the sons of newspapers, and
the Greeks are the weavers of lies, but the English
and the Osmanlees are brothers together in right-
eousness : for the Osmanlees believe in one only-
God, and cleave to the Koran, and destroy idols ;
so do the English worship one God, and abominate
graven images, and tell the truth, and believe in a
book ; and though they drink the juice of the grape,
yet to say that they worship their prophet as God,
or to say that they are eaters of pork, these are
lies — lies born of Greeks, and nursed by Jews.
Dragoman. — The Pasha compliments the Eng-
lish.
Travelhr (rising). — "Well, I've had enough of
this. Tell the Pasha I am greatly obliged to him
for his hospitality, and still more for his kindness
in furnishing me with horses, and say that now I
must be off.
Fasha (after hearing the Dragoman, and stand-
ing up on his divan)."'' — Proud are the sires, and
blessed are the dams of the horses, that shall carry
his Excellency to the end of his prosperous jour-
ney. May the saddle beneath him glide down to
* That is, if he stands up at all : oriental etiquette would not
warrant his rising, unless his visitor were supposed to be at least
his equal in point of rank and station.
1 6 Eothen.
the gates of the happy city like a boat swimming
on the third river of Paradise ! May he sleep the
sleep of a child, when his friends are around him ;
and tlie while that his enemies are abroad may his
eyes flame red through the darkness — more red
than the eyes of ten tigers ! — farewell I
Dragoman. — The Pasha wishes your Excellency
a pleasant journey.
So ends the visit.
n
CHAPTER jr.
TURKISH TRAVELLING.
In two or three hours our party was ready ; the
servants, the Tatar, the mounted Suridgees, and
the baggage -horses altogether made up a strong
cavalcade. The accomplished Mysseri, of whom
you have heard me speak so often, and who served
me so faithfully throughout my oriental journeys,
acted as our interpreter, and was, in fact, the brain
of our corps. The Tatar, you know, is a Govern-
ment courier properly employed in carrying de-
spatches, but also sent with travellers to speed
them on their way and answer with his head for
their safety. The man whose head was thus
pledged for our precious lives was a glorious-look-
ing fellow, with that regular and handsome cast of
countenance which is now characteristic of the
Ottoman race.'"' His features displayed a good
* The continual marriages of these poople with the chosen
beauties of Georgia and Circassia have overpowered the original
ugliness of their Tatar ancestors.
B
1 8 Eothen.
deal of serene pride, self-respect, fortitude, a kind
of ingenuous sensuality, and something of instinc-
tive wisdom, without any sharpness of intellect.
He had been a janissary (as I afterwards found),
and he still kept up the old praetorian strut which
used to affright the Christians in former times — a
strut so comically pompous, that any close imita-
tion of it, even in the broadest farce, would be
looked upon as a very rough over-acting of the
character. It is occasioned in part by dress and
accoutrements. The weighty bundle of weapons
carried iipon the chest throws back the body so as
to give it a wonderful portliness, and, moreover,
the immense masses of clothes that swathe his
limbs force the wearer in walking to swing himself
heavily round from left to right, and from right to
left. In truth, this great edifice of woollen, and
cotton, and silk, and silver, and brass, and steel,
is not at all fitted for moving on foot ; it cannot
even walk without frightfully discomposing its fair
proportions , and as to running — our Tatar ran
once, (it was in order to pick up a partridge that
Methley had winged with a pistol-shot), and the
attempt was one of the funniest misdirections of
human energy that wondering man ever saw. But
put lum in his stirrups, and then is the Tatar
himself again : there he lives at his pleasure, re-
posing in the tranquillity of that true home (the
home of his ancestors) which the saddle seems to
Turkish Travelling. 19
afiford him, and drawing from his pipe the calm
pleasures of his " own fireside ; " or else dashing
sudden over the earth, as though for a moment he
felt the mouth of a Turcoman steed, and saw his
own Scythian plains lying boundless and open
before him.
It was not till his subordinates had nearly com-
pleted their preparations for the march that our
Tatar, " commanding the forces," arrived ; he came
sleek and fresh from the bath (for so is the custom
of the Ottomans when they start upon a journey),
and was carefully accoutred at every point. From
his thigh to his throat he was laden with arms
and other implements of a campaigning life. There
is no scarcity of water along the whole road from
Belgrade to Stamboul, but the habits of our Tatar
were formed by his ancestors, and not by himself,
so he took good care to see that his leathern water-
flask was amply charged and properly strapped to
the saddle along with his blessed tcliibouque. And
now at last he has cursed the Suridgees, in all pro-
per figures of speech, and is ready for a ride of a
thousand miles ; but before he comforts his soul in
the marble baths of Stamboul he will be another
and a lesser man — his sense of responsibihty, his
too strict abstemiousness, and his restless energj^
disdainful of sleep, will have worn him down to a
fraction of the sleek Moostapha who now loads out
our party from the gates of Belgrade.
20 Eotke?i.
The Suridgees are the men employed to lead the
baggage-horses. They are most of them gipsies.
Their lot is a sad one ; they are the last of the
human race, and all tlie sins of their superiors (in-
cluding the horses) can safely be visited on them.
]jut tlie wretched look often more picturesque than
their betters ; and though all the world despise these
poor Suridgees, their tawny skins and their grisly
beards will gain them honourable standing in the
foreground of a landscape. We had a couple of
these fellows with us, each leading a baggage-
horse, to the tail of which last another baggage-
horse was attached. There was a world of trouble
in persuading the stiff angular portmanteaus of
Europe to adapt themselves to their new condi-
tion, and sit quietly on pack-saddles , but all was
right at last, and it gladdened my eyes to see our
little troop file off through the winding lanes of the
city, and show down brightly in the plain beneath.
The one of our party most out of keeping with the
rest of the scene was Methley's Yorkshire servant,
who always rode doggedly on in his pantry jacket,
looking out for " gentlemen's seats."
Methley and I had English saddles, but I think
we should have done just as well (I should cer-
tainly have seen more of the country) if we had
adopted saddles like that of our Tatar, who tow-
ered so loftily over tlie scraggy little beast that
carried him. In taking thought for the East,
Ttirkish Travelliiis^,
A
whilst iu England, I had made one capital hit,
which you must not forget — I had brought with
me a pair of common spurs ; these were a great
comfort to me throughout my horseback travels,
by keeping up the cheerfulness of the many un-
happy nags that I had to bestride : the angle of
the oriental stirrup is a very poor substitute for
spurs.
The Ottoman horseman, raised by his saddle to
a great height above the humble level of the back
that he bestrides, and using a very sharp bit, is
able to lift the crest of his nag, and force him into
a strangely fast shuffling walk, the orthodox pace
for the journey. My comrade and I, using Eng-
lish saddles, could not easily keep our beasts up to
this peculiar amble : besides, we thought it a bore
to be followed by our attendants for a thousand
miles, and we generally, therefore, did duty as the
rear-guard of our " grand army." We used to walk
our horses till the party in front had got into the
distance, and then retrieve the lost ground by a
gallop.
We had ridden on for some two or three hours
— the stir and bustle of our commencing journey
had ceased — the liveliness of our little troop had
worn off with the declining day, and the night
closed in as we entered the great Servian forest.
Through this our road was to last for more than a
hundred miles. Endless and endless now on either
2 2 Eothen.
side the tall oaks closed in their ranks, and stood
gloomily lowering over us, as grim as an army of
giants with a thousand years' pay in arrear. One
strived, with listening ear, to catch some tidings of
that forest-world within — some stirring of beasts,
some night - bird's scream ; but all was quite
hushed, except the voice of the cicalas that peopled
every bough, and filled the depths of the forest
through and through with one same hum everlast-
ing — more stilling than very silence.
At first our way was in darkness, but after a
wliile the moon got up, and touched the glittering
arms and tawny faces of our men witli light so
pale and mystic, that the watchful Tatar felt
bound to look out for demons, and take proper
means for keeping them off. Forthwith he deter-
mined that the duty of frightening away our
ghostly enemies (like every other troublesome
work) should fall upon the poor Suridgees ; they
accordingly lifted up their voices, and burst upon
tlie dreaded stillness of the forest with shrieks and
dismal howls. These precautions were kept up in-
cessantly, and were followed by the most complete
success, for not one demon came near us.
Long before midniglit we reached the hamlet in
which we were to rest for the night ; it was made
up of about a dozen clay huts standing upon a
small tract of gi'ound hardly w^on from the forest.
The peasants living there spoke a Slavonic dialect,
Turkish Travelling. 23
and IMysseri's knowledge of the Eussian tongue en-
abled him to talk with them freely. We took up
our quarters in a square room with white walls
and an earthen floor, quite bare of furniture and
utterly void of women. They told us, however,
that these Ser%aan "sdllagers lived in happy abun-
dance, but that they were careful to conceal their
riches, as well as their wives.
The burdens unstrapped from the pack-saddles
very quickly furnished our den : a couple of quilts
spread upon the floor with a carpet-bag at the
head of each, became capital sofas ; portmanteaus,
and hat -boxes, and writing-cases, and books, and
maps, and gleaming arms, soon lay strewed around
us in pleasant confusion. Mysseri's canteen, too,
began to yield up its treasures, but we relied upon
finding some pro\dsions in the "vnllage. At first
the natives declared that their hens were mere
old maids, and all their cows unmarried ; but our
Tatar swore such a grand sonorous oath, and
fingered the hilt of his yataghan with such per-
suasive touch, that the land soon flowed with milk,
and mountains of eggs arose.
And soon there was tea before us, with all its
welcome fragrance ; and as we reclined on the floor
we found that a portmanteau was just the right
height for a table. The duty of candlesticks was
ably performed by a couple of intelligent natives :
the rest of the villagers stood by the open door-
24 Eothen.
way at the lower end of the room, and watched
our banquet mth grave and devout attention.
The first night of your first campaign (though
you he but a mere peaceful campaigner) is a
glorious time in your life. It is so sweet to find
one's self free from the stale civilisation of Europe !
Oh my dear ally, when first you spread your carpet
in the midst of these Eastern scenes, do tliink for a
moment of those your fellow-creatures that dwell
in squares, and streets, and even (for such is the
fate of many !) in actual country - houses ; think
of the people that are " presenting their compli-
ments," and " requesting the honour," and " much
regretting," — of those that are pinioned at dinner-
tables, or stuck up in ball-rooms, or cruelly planted
in pews, — ay, think of these, and so remembering
how many poor devils are living in a state of utter
respectability, you will glory the more in your ow^n
delightful escape.
But, with all its charms, a mud floor (Kke a
mercenary match) does certainly promote early
rising. Long before daybreak we were up and
had breakfasted ; afterwards there was nearly a
whole tedious hour to endure, whilst the horses
were laden by torch-light ; but this had an end,
and then our day's journey began. Cloaked, and
sombre, at first we made our sullen way through
the darkness with scarcely one barter of words ;
but soon the genial morn burst down from heaven,
T2irkisli Travelling. 25
and stirred the blood so gladly through our veinS;
that the very Suridgees, with all their troubles,
could now look up for an instant, and almost seem
to believe in the temporary goodness of God.
The actual movement from one place to another,
in Europeanised countries, is a process so tempo-
rary— it occupies, I mean, so small a proportion
of the traveller's entire time, that his mind remains
unsettled so long as the wheels are going ; he may
be alive enough to external objects of interest, and
to the crowding ideas which are often invited by
the excitement of a changing scene, but he is still
conscious of being in a provisional state, and his
mind is for ever recurring to the expected end of
his journey ; his ordinary ways of thought have
been interrupted, and before any new mental hab-
its can be formed he is quietly fixed in his hotel.
It will be otherwise with you when you journey
in the East. Day after day, perhaps week after
week, and month after month, your foot is in the
stirrup. To taste the cold breath of the earliest
morn, and to lead or follow your bright cavalcade
till sunset through forests and mountain passes,
through valleys and desolate plains, all this be-
comes your MODE OF LIFE, and you ride, eat,
drink, and curse the mosquitoes as systematically
as your friends in England eat, drink, and sleep.
If you are wise, you will not look upon the long
period of time thus occupied in actual movement,
26 Eothen.
as the mere gulf dividing you from the end of
your journey, but rather as one of those rare
and plastic seasons of your life, from which, per-
haps, in after - times, you may love to date the
moulding of your character — that is, your very
identity. Once feel this, and you will soon grow
happy and contented in your saddle home. As for
me and my comrade, however, in this part of our
journey w^e often forgot Stamboul, forgot all the
Ottoman empire, and only remembered old times.
We went back, loitering on the banks of the
Thames — not grim old Thames, of " after-life,"
that washes the Parliament Houses and drowns
despairing girls, — but Thames the " old Eton
fellow " that wrestled with us in our boyhood
till he taught us to be stronger than he. We
bullied Iveate, and scoffed at Larrey Miller, and
Okes ; we rode along loudly laughing, and talked
to the grave Servian forest, as though it were tlie
" Brocas clump."
Our pace was commonly very slow, for the
baggage-horses served us for a drag, and kept us
to a rate of little more than five miles in the hour ;
but now and then, and chiefly at night, a spirit
of movement would suddenly animate the whole
party; the baggage-horses would be teased into a
gallop, and when once this was done, there would
be such a banging of portmanteaus, and such con-
vulsions of carpet-bags upon their panting sides,
Turkish Travel lijig. 27
and the Suridgees would follow them up Avitli such
a hurricane of blows, and screams, and curses, that
stopping or relaxing was scarcely possible ; then
the rest of us would put our horses into a gallop,
and so, all shouting cheerily, would hunt and drive
the sumpter- beasts like a flock of goats, up hill
and down dale, right on to the end of their
journey.
The distances between our relays of horses
varied greatly : some were not more than fifteen
or twenty miles ; but twice, I think, we performed
a whole day's journey of more than sixty miles
with the same beasts.
When at last we came out from the forest, our
road lay through scenes like those of an English
park. The greensward unfenced, and left to the
free pasture of cattle, was dotted with groups of
stately trees, and here and there darkened o'ver
with larger masses of wood that seemed gathered
together for bounding the domain, and shutting
out some " infernal " fellow-creature in the shape
of a newly made squire. In one or two spots the
hanging copses look down upon a lawn below with
such sheltering mien, that, seeing the like in Eng-
land, you would have been tempted almost to ask
the name of the spendthrift or the madman who
had dared to pull down " the old liall."
There are few countries less infested by " lions
than the provinces on this part of your route : you
2 8 Eothen.
are not called upon to "drop a tear" over the tomb
of " the once Lrilliant " anybody, or to pay your
" tribute of respect " to anything dead or alive ;
there are no Servian or Bulgarian littdrateurs with
whom it would be positively disgraceful not to
form an acquaintance ; you have no staring, no
praising to get through. The only public build-
ing of any interest that lies on the road is of
modern date, but is said to be a good specimen
of oriental architecture ; it is of a pyramidical
shape, and is made up of thirty thousand skulls
contributed by the rebellious Servians in the early
part (I believe) of this century. I am not at all
sure of my date, but I fancy it was in the year
1806 that the first skull was laid, I am ashamed
to say that, in the darkness of the early morning,
we unknowingly went by the neighbourhood of this
triumph of art, and so basely got off from admir-
ing " the simple grandeur of the architect's concep-
tion," and " the exquisite beauty of the fretwork."
There being no " lions," we ought, at least, to
have met with a few perils, but the only robbers
we saw anything of had been long since dead and
gone. The poor fellows had been impaled upon
high poles, and so propped up by the transverse
spokes beneath them, that their skeletons, clotlied
with some white, wax-like remains of flesh, still
sat up lolling in the sunshine, and listlessly stared
without eyes.
Turkish Travellhig. 29
One day it seemed to me that our path was a
little more rugged than usual, and I found that I
was deserving for myself the title of Sabalkansky,
or " Transcender of the Balcan." The truth is
that, as a military barrier, the Balcan is a fabulous
mountain ; such seems to be the view of Major
KeppeU, who looked on it towards the East with
the eye of a soldier ; and certainly in the Sophia
Pass there is no narrow defile, and no ascent
sufficiently difficult to stop, or delay for a long
time, a train of siege artillery.
Before we reached Adrianople, Methley had been
seized with we knew not what ailment, and when
we had taken up our quarters in the city he was
cast to the very earth by sickness. Adrianople
enjoyed an English consul, and I felt sure that, in
Eastern phrase, his house would cease to be his
house, and would become the house of my sick
comrade : I should have judged rightly under
ordinary circumstances, but the levelling plague
was abroad, and the dread of it had dominion over
the consular mind. So now (whether dying or not,
one could hardly tell), upon a quilt stretched out
along the floor, there lay the best hope of an ancient
line, without the material aids to comfort of even
the humblest sort, and (sad to say) without the
consolation of a friend, or even a comrade worth
having. I have a notion that tenderness and pity
are affections occasioned in some measure by living
30 Eothen.
within doors ; certainly, at the time I speak of, the
open-air life which I had been leading, or the way-
faring hardships of the journey, had so strangely
blunted me, that I felt intolerant of illness, and
looked down upon my companion as if the poor
fellow, in falling ill, had betrayed a want of spirit :
I entertained, too, a most absurd idea — an idea
that his illness was partly affected. You see that
I have made a confession : this I hope — that I may
liereafter look charitably upon the hard savage
acts of peasants, and the cruelties of a " brutal"
soldiery, God knows that I strived to melt my-
self into common charity, and to put on a gentle-
ness which I could not feel ; but this attempt did
not cheat the keenness of the sufferer ; he could
not have felt the less deserted because that I was
with him.
> We called to aid a solemn Armenian (I think
he was), half soothsayer, half haJdm or doctor, who,
all the while counting his beads, fixed his eyes
steadily upon the patient, and then suddenly dealt
him a violent blow on the chest. Methley bravely
dissembled his pain, for he fancied that the blow
was meant to try whether or not the plague were
on him.
Here was really a sad embarrassment — no bed
— nothing to offer the invalid in the shape of food,
save a piece of tliin, tough, flexible, drab-colour-
ed cloth, mad^ of flour and millstones hi equal
Turkish Travelling. 31
proportions, and called by the name of " bread ; "
then the patient, of course, bad no " confidence in
his medical man ; " and, on the whole, the best
chance of saving my comrade seemed to lie in
taking him out of the reach of his doctor, and
bearing him away to the neighbourhood of some
more genial consul. But how was this to be
done ? Methley was much too ill to be kept in
his saddle, and wheel-carriages, as means of travel-
ling, were unknown. There is, however, such a
thing as an araha, a vehicle drawn by oxen, in
wdiich the wives of a rich man are sometimes
dragged four or five miles over the grass by way of
recreation. The carriage is rudely framed, but you
recognise in the simple grandeur of its design a
likeness to things majestic ; in short, if your
carpenter's son were to make a " Lord Mayor's
coach " for little Amy, he would build a carriage
very much in the style of a Turkish araba. No
one had ever heard of horses being used for draw-
ing a carriage in this part of the world ; but
necessity is the mother of innovation as well as
of invention. I was fully justified, I think, in
arguing that there were numerous instances of
horses being used for that purpose in our own
country — that the laws of nature are uniform in
their operation over all the world (except Ireland)
— that that which was true in Piccadilly must be
true in Adrianople — that the matter could not
3 2 Eothen.
fairly be treated as an ecclesiastical question, for
that the circumstance of Methley's going on to
Stamhoul in an araba drawn by horses, when
calmly and dispassionately considered, would appear
to be perfectly consistent with the maintenance of
the Mahometan religion, as by law established.
Thus poor, dear, patient reason- would have fought
her slow battle against Asiatic prejudice, and I
am convinced that she would have estabKshed
the possibility (and perhaps even the propriety)
of harnessing horses in a hundred and fifty years ;
but, in the meantime, Mysseri, well seconded by
our Tatar, contrived to bring the controversy to a
premature end by having the horses put to.
It was a sore thing for me to see my poor
comrade brought to this ; for young though he was,
he was a veteran in travel. When scarcely yet of
age, he had invaded India from the frontiers of
Russia, and that so swiftly that, measuring by the
time of liis flight, the broad dominions of the king
of kings were shrivelled up to a dukedom ; and
now, poor fellow, he was to be poked into an
araba like a Georgian girl ! He suffered greatly,
for there were no springs for tlie carriage, and no
road for the wheels ; and so the concern jolted on
over the open country, with such twists, and jerks,
and jumps, as might almost dislocate the supple
tongue of Satan.
All day the patient kept himself shut up within
TitrkisJi Travelling. 33
the lattice-work of the arabci, and I could hardly
know how he was faring until the end of the day's
journey, when I found that he was not worse, and
was buoyed up with the hope of some day reaching
Constantinople.
I was always conning over my maps, and fancied
that I knew pretty well my line ; but after
Adrianople I had made more southing than I
knew for, and it was with unbelieving wonder and
delight that I came suddenly upon the shore of
the sea : a little while, and its gentle billows were
flowing beneath the hoofs of my beast. But the
hearing of the ripple was not enough communion,
— and the seeing of the blue Propontis was not to
know and possess it — I must needs plunge into its
depth, and quench my longing love in the palpa-
ble waves ; and so when old Moostapha (defender
against demons) looked round for his charge, he
saw, with horror and dismay, that he for whose
life his own life stood pledged, was possessed of
some devil who had driven him down into the
sea — that the rider and the steed had vanished
from earth, and that out among the waves was the
gasping crest of a post-horse, and the ghostly
head of the Englishman moving upon the face
of the waters.
We started very early indeed, on the last day
of our journey, and, from the moment of being off,
until we gained the shelter of the imperial walls,
c
34 Eothen.
we were struggling face to face with au icy storm
that swept right down from the steppes of Tartary,
keen., fierce, and steady as a northern conqueror.
Metliley's servant, who was the greatest sufferer,
kept his saddle until we reached Stamboul, but
was. then found to he quite benumbed in limbs,
and his brain was so much affected, that when he
was lifted from his horse, he fell away in a state
of unconsciousness, the first stage of a dangerous
fever.
Our Tatar, worn down by care and toil, and
carrying seven heavens full of water in his mani-
fold jackets and shawls, was a mere weak and
vapid dilution of the sleek Moostapha, who, scarce
more than one fortnight before, came out like a
bridegroom from his chamber, to take the command
of our party.
Mysseri seemed somewhat over- wearied, but he
had lost none of his strangely quiet energy ; he
wore a grave look, however, for he now had learnt
that the plague was prevailing at Constantinople,
and he was fearing that our two sick men, and the
miserable looks of our whole party, might make us
unwelcome at Pera.
We crossed the Golden Horn in a caique, i^s
soon as we had landed, some woe-begone looking
fellows were got together, and laden with our
baggage. Then on we went, dripping and slosh-
ing, and looking very like men that had been
Turkish Travelling. 35
turned back by the Eoyal Humane Society, for
being incurably drowned. Supporting our sick,
we climbed up shelving steps, and threaded many
windings, and at last came up into the main street
of Pera, humbly hoping that we might not be
judged guilty of the plague, and so be cast back
with horror from the doors of the shuddering
Christians.
Such was the condition of the little troop, which
fifteen days before had filed away so gaily from
the gates of Belgrade. A couple of fevers and
a north-easterly storm had thoroughly spoiled our
looks.
The interest of Mysseri with the house of
Giuseppioi was too powerful to be denied, and at
once, though not without fear and trembling, wa
were admitted as fjuests.
36
CHAPTER HI.
CONSTANTINOPLR.
Even if we don't take a part in the chant about
" mosques and minarets," we can still yield praises
to Stamboul. We can chant about the harbour ;
we can say and sing that nowhere else does the
sea come so home to a city : there are no pebbly
shores — no sand-bars — no slimy river-beds — no
black canals — no locks nor docks to divide the
very heart of the place from the deep waters. If
being in the noisiest mart of Stamboul, you would
stroll to the quiet side of the way amidst those
cypresses opposite, you will cross tlie fathomless
Bosphorus ; if you would go from your hotel to
the bazaars, you must pass by the bright blue
pathway of the Golden Horn, that can carry a
thousand sail of the line. You are accustomed to
tlie gondolas that glide among the palaces of St
]\Iark, but liere, at Stamboul, it is a hundred-and-
twenty-gun ship that meets you in the street.
Venice strains out from the steadfast land, and iu
Coistantinoplc. 2i7
old times would send forth the Chief of the State
to woo and wed the reluctant sea ; but the stormy
bride of the Doge is the bowing slave of the Sultan
— she comes to his feet with the treasures of the
world — she bears him from palace to palace — by-
some unfailing witchcraft, she entices the breezes
to follow her,* and fan the pale cheek of her lord
— she lifts his armed navies to the very gates of
his garden — she watches the walls of his Serail
— she stifles the intrigues of his Ministers — she
quiets the scandals of his Court — she extinguishes
his rivals, and hushes his naughty wives all one by
one. So vast are the wonders of the deep !
All the while that I stayed at Constantinople
the plague was prevailing, but not with any vio-
lence. Its presence, however, lent a mysterious
and exciting, though not very pleasant, interest to
my first knowledge of a great oriental city; it
gave tone and colour to all I saw and all I felt —
a tone and a colour sombre enough, but true, and
well befitting the dreary monuments of past power
and splendour. With all that is most truly
oriental in its character the plague is associated :
it dwells with the faithful in the holiest quarters
of their city. The coats and the hats of Pera are
held to be nearly as innocent of infection as they
are ugly in shape and fashion ; but the rich furs
* There is almost always a breeze, either from the JMarmora or
from the Black Sea, that jiassus along the course of the Bosphorus.
38 Eothen.
and the costly shawls, the broidered slippers and
the gold-laden saddle-cloths — the fragrance of
burning aloes and the rich aroma of patcliouli —
these are the signs that mark the familiar home of
plague. You go out fram your queenly London,
the centre of the greatest and strongest amongst
all earthly dominions — you go out thence, and
travel on to the capital of an Eastern prince —
you find but a waning power, and a faded splendour,
that inclines you to laugh and mock ; but let the
infernal Angel of Plague be at hand, and he, more
mighty than armies, more terrible than Suleyman
in his glory, can restore such pomp and majesty to
the weakness of the imperial city, that if, when
HE is there, you must still go prying amongst the
shades of this dead empire, at least you will tread
the path with seemly reverence and awe.
It is the firm faith of almost all the Europeans
living in the East, that plague is conveyed by the
touch of infected substances, and that the deadly
atoms especially lurk in all kinds of clothes and
furs; it is held safer to breath the same air with
a man sick of the plague, and even to come in con-
tact with his skin, than to be touched by the
smallest particle of woollen or of thread which
may have been within the reach of possible infec-
tion. If this be a right notion, the spread of the
malady must be materially aided by the observ-
ance of a custom prevailing amongst the people
Constantinople. 39
of Stamboul. It is this : when an Osmanlee dies,
one of his dresses is cut up, and a small piece of it
is sent to each of his friends as a memorial of the
departed — a fatal present, according to the opinion
of the Franks, for it too often forces the li\dng not
merely to remember the dead man, but to follow
and bear him company.
The Europeans during the prevalence of the
plague, if they are forced to venture into the
streets, will carefully avoid the touch of every
human being whom they pass : their conduct in
this respect shows them strongly in contrast with
the "true believers." The Moslem stalks on
serenely, as though he were under the eye of his
God, and were " equal to either fate." The Franks
go crouching, and slinking from death ; and some
(those chiefly of French extraction) will fondly strive
to fence out Destiny with shining capes of oilskin !
For some time you may manage by great care
to thread your way through the streets of Stam-
boul without incurring contact ; for the Turks,
though scornful of the terrors felt by the Franks,
are generally very courteous in yielding to that
wliich they hold to be a useless and impious pre-
caution, and will let you pass safe, if they can.
It is impossible, however, that your immunity can
last for any length of time, if you move about
much through the narrow streets and lanes of a
crowded city.
40 Eothe7i.
As for me, I soon got " compromised." After
one day of rest the prayers of my hostess began to
lose their power of keeping me from the pestilent
side of the Golden Horn. Faithfully promising
to shun the touch of all imaginable substances,
however enticing, I set off very cautiously, and
held my way uncompromised till I reached the
water's edge ; but before my caique was quite
ready, some rueful-looking fellows came rapidly
shambling down the steps with a plague-stricken
corpse, which they were going to bury amongst the
faithful on the other side of the water. I con-
trived to be so much in the way of this brisk
funeral, that I was not only touched by the men
bearing the body, but also, I believe, by the foot
of the dead man, as it hung lolling out of the bier.
This accident gave me such a strong interest in
denying the soundness of the contagion theory, that
I did in fact deny and repudiate it altogether:
and from that time, acting upon my own con-
venient view of the matter, I went wherever I
chose, without taking any serious pains to avoid a
touch. It seems to me now very likely that the
Europeans are right, and that the plague may be
really conveyed by contagion ; but during the
whole time of my remaining in the East my views
on this subject more nearly approached to those of
the fatalists; and so, when afterwards the plague
of Egypt came dealing his blows around me, I was
Constantinople. 41
able to live amongst the dying without that alarm
and anxiety which would inevitably have pressed
upon my mind, if I had allowed myseK to believe
that every passing touch was really a probable
death -stroke.
And perhaps as you make your difficult way
through a steep and narrow alley, shut in between
blank walls, and little frequented by passers, you
meet one of those coffin-shaped bundles of white
linen that implies an Ottoman lady. Painfully
struggling against the obstacles to progression in-
terposed by the many folds of her clumsy drapery,
by her big mud-boots, and especially by her two
pairs of slippers, she works her way on full awk-
wardly enough, but yet there is something of
womanly consciousness in the very labour and
effort with which she tugs and lifts the burden of
her charms : she is closely followed by her women-
slaves. Of her very self you see nothing, except
the dark luminous eyes that stare against your
face, and the tips of the painted fingers depending
like rosebuds from out of the blank bastions of the
fortress. She turns, and turns again, and carefully
glances around her on all sides, to see that she is
safe from the eyes of Mussulmans, and then sud-
denly withdrawing the yaslimak^" she shines upon
* The yashmak, you know, is not a mere semi-transparent veil,
but rather a good substantial petticoat applied to the face ; it
thoroughly conceals all the features except the eyes : tlie way of
withdrawing it is by pulling it down.
42 Eot/ien.
your heart and soul with all the pomp and might
of her beauty. And this, it is not the light,
changeful grace that leaves you to doubt whether
you have fallen in love with a body or only a
soul ; it is the beauty that dwells secure in the
perfectness of hard, downright outlines, and in the
glow of generous colour. There is fire, though, too
— high courage, and fire enough in the untamed
mind, or spirit, or whatever it is which drives
the breath of pride through those scarcely parted
lips.
You smile at pretty women — you turn pale
before the beauty that is great enough to have
dominion over you. She sees, and exults in your
giddiness — she sees and smiles ; then, presently,
with a sudden movement, she lays her blushing
fingers upon your arm, and cries out "Yumourd-
jak ! " (Plague ! meaning, " There is a present of
the plague for you ! ") This is her notion of a
witticism : it is a very old piece of fun, no doubt
— quite an oriental Joe Miller ; but the Turks are
fondly attached not only to the institutions, but
also to the jokes, of their ancestors ; so, the lady's
silvery laugh rings joyously in your ears, and the
mirth of her women is boisterous and fresh, as
though the briglit idea of giving the plague to a
Christian had newly lit upon the earth.
Methley began to rally very soon after we had
reached Constantinople, but there seemed at first
Constantinople. 43
to be no chance of his regaining strength enough
for travelling during the winter ; and I determined
to stay with my comrade until he had quite re-
covered : so I bought me a horse and a " pipe of
tranquillity," "''' and took a Turkish phrase-master.
I troubled myself a great deal with the Turkish
tongue, and gained at last some knowledge of its
structure : it is enriched, perhaps overladen, with
Persian and Arabic words imported into the. lan-
guage, chiefly for the purpose of representing senti-
ments, and religious dogmas, and terms of art and
luxury, entirely unknown to the Tartar ancestors
of the present Osmanlees ; but the body and the
spirit of the old tongue are yet alive, and the
smooth words of the shopkeeper at Constantinople
can still carry understanding to the ears of the
untamed millions who rove over the plains of
Northern Asia. The structure of the language,
especially in its more lengthy sentences, is very
like to the Latin ; the subject-matters are slowly
and patiently enumerated, without disclosing the
purpose of the speaker until he reaches the end
of his sentence, and then at last there comes the
clenching word which gives a meaning and con-
nection to all that has gone before. If you listen
at all to speaking of this kind, your attention,
* The "pipe of tranquillity/' is a tchibouque too long to be con-
veniently carried on a journey : the possession of it therefore
implies that its owner is stationary, or at all events that he is
enjoying a long repose from travel.
44 Eothen.
rather than be suffered to flag, must grow more
and more lively as the phrase marches on.
The Osmanlees speak well. In countries civ-
ilised according to the European plan, the work of
trying to persuade tribunals is almost all performed
by a set of men who seldom do anything else ;
but in Turkey this division of labour has never
taken place, and every man is his own advocate.
The importance of the rhetorical art is immense,
for a bad speech may endanger the property of the
speaker, as well as the soles of his feet and the
free enjoyment of his throat. So it results that
most of the Turks whom one sees have a lawyer-
like habit of speaking coimectedly and at length.
Even the treaties continually going on at the
bazaar for the buying and selling of the merest
trifles are carried on by speechifying, rather than
by mere colloquies; and the eternal uncertainty as to
the market value of things in constant sale gives
room enough for discussion. The seller is for ever
demanding a price immensely beyond that for
which he sells at last, and so occasions unspeak-
able disgust in many Englishmen, who cannot see
why an honest dealer should ask more for his
goods tlian he will really take : the truth is, how-
ever, that an ordinary tradesman of Constantinople
has no other way of finding out the fair market
value of his property. His difficulty is easily
shown by comparing the mechanism of the com-
Constantinople. 45
mercial system iu Turkey with that of our own
people. In England, or in any other great mer-
cantile country, the bulk of the things bought and
sold goes through the hands of a wholesale dealer,
and it is he who higgles and bargains with an
entire nation of purchasers by entering into treaty
with retail sellers. The labour of making a few
large contracts is sufficient to give a clue for
finding the fair market value of the goods sold
throughout the country ; but in Turkey, from the
primitive habits of the people, and partly from the
absence of great capital and great credit, the im-
porting merchant, the warehouseman, the wholesale
dealer, the retail dealer, and the shopman, are all
one person. Old Moostapha, or Abdallah, or Hadgi
Mohamed, waddles up from the water's edge with
a small packet of merchandise, which he has
bought out of a Greek brigantine, and when at
last he has reached his nook iu the bazaar, he puts
his goods hefore the counter, and himself u^on it ;
then laying fire to his tchihouque, he " sits in per-
manence," and patiently waits to obtain " the best
price that can be got in an open market." This
is his fair right as a seller, but he has no means
of finding out what that best price is, except by
actual experiment. He cannot know the intensity
of the demand, or the abundance of the supply,
otherwise than by tlie offers which may be made
for his little bundle of goods ; so he begins by
46 Eothen.
asking a perfectly hopeless price, and then de-
scends the ladder until he meets a purchaser, for
ever
' ' Striving to attain
By shadowing out the unattainable."
This is the struggle which creates the continual
occasion for debate. The vendor perceiving that
the unfolded merchandise has caught the eye of a
possible purchaser, commences his opening speech.
He covers his bristling broadcloths and his meagre
silks with the golden broidery of oriental praises,
and, as he talks, along with the slow and graceful
waving of his arms, he lifts his undulating periods,
upholds, and poises them well till they have
gathered their weight and their strength, and then
hurls them bodily forward, with grave, momentous
swing. The possible purchaser listens to the whole
speech with deep and serious attention ; but when
it is over, his turn arrives ; he elaborately endeav-
ours to show why he ought not to buy the things
at a price twenty times larger than their value :
bystanders attracted to the debate take a part in
it as independent members — the vendor is heard in
reply, and coming down with his price, furnishes
the materials for a new debate. Sometimes, how-
ever, the dealer, if he is a very pious Mussulman,
and sufl&ciently rich to hold back his ware, will
take a more dignified part, maintaining a kind of
judicial gravity, and receiving the applicants who
Co7istantinople. 47
come to Ids stall as if they were ratlier suitors
than customers. He will quietly hear to the end
some long speech that concludes with an offer, and
will answer it all with that bold monosyllable
^" Yok "), which means distinctly "Xo."
I caught one glimpse of the old heathen world.
]\Iy habits of studying mihtary subjects had been
hardening my heart against poetry. For ever
staring at the flames of battle, I had blinded
myself to the lesser and finer lights that are shed
from the imaginations of men. In my reading at
this time, I delighted to foUow from out of Arabian
sands the feet of the armed believers, and to stand
in the broad manifest storm-tract of Tartar devasta-
tion and thus, though surrounded at Constanti-
nople by scenes of much interest to the " classical
scholar," I had cast aside their associations like an
old Greek grammar, and turned my face to the
"shining orient," forgetful of old Greece, and all
the pure wealth she left to this matter -of- fact -
ridden world. But it happened to me one day
to mount the high grounds overhanging the streets
of Pera, I sated my eyes with the pomps of the
city and its crowded waters, and then I looked
over where Scutari lay half veiled in her mournful
cypresses. I looked yet farther, and higher, and
saw in the heavens a silvery cloud that stood fast
and stiU against the breeze : it was pure and
dazzling white as might be the veil of Cytherea,
48 Eotken,
yet touched with such fire, as though from be-
ueath the loving eyes of an immortal were shining
through and through. I knew the bearing, but
had enormously misjudged its distance and under-
rated its height, and so it was as a sign and a
testimony — almost as a call from the neglected
gods, that now I saw and acknowledged the snowy
crown of the Mysian Olympus !
49
CPIAPTER IV.
THE TROAD.
Methley recovered almost suddenly, and we deter-
mined to go through the Troad together.
My comrade was a capital Grecian : it is true
that his singular mind so ordered and disposed
his classic lore as to impress it with something
of an original and barbarous character — with an
almost Gothic quaintness, more properly belonging
to a rich native ballad than to the poetry of Hellas :
there was a certain impropriety in his knowing so
much Greek — an unfitness in the idea of marble
fauns, and satyrs, and even Olympian gods, lugged
in under the oaken roof and the painted light of
an odd old Norman hall. But Methley, abounding
in Homer, really loved him (as I believe) in all
truth, without whim or fancy; moreover, he had a
good deal of the practical sagacity
" Of a Yorkshireman hippodamoio, "
and this enabled him to apply his knowledge with
D
50 Eothen.
much more tact than is usually shown by people
so learned as he.
I, too, loved Homer, but not with a scholar's
love. The most humble and pious among women,
was yet so proud a mother that she could teach
her first-born son, no Watts's hymns — no collects
for the day; she could teach him in earliest child-
hood, no less than this — to find a home in his
saddle, and to love old Homer, and all that Homer
sung. True it is, that the Greek was ingeniously
rendered into English — the English of Pope — but
not even a mesh like that can screen an earnest
child from the fire of Homer's battles.
I pored over the 'Odyssey' as over a story-book,
hoping and fearing for the hero whom yet I partly
scorned. But the 'Iliad' — line by line, I clasped
it to my brain with reverence as well as with love.
As an old woman deeply trustful sits reading her
Bible because of the world to come, so, as though
it would fit me for the coming strife of this tem-
poral world, I read and read the 'Iliad.' Even
outwardly it was not like other books ; it was
throned in towering folios. There was a preface
or dissertation printed in type still more majestic
than the rest of the book ; this I read, but not till
my entlmsiasm for the 'Iliad' had already run high.
The writer compiling the opinions of many men,
and chiefly of the ancients, set forth, I know not
how quaintly, that the 'Iliad' was all in all to the
The Troad. 5 1
human race — tliat it was history, poetry, revela-
tion— that the works of men's hands were folly and
vanity, and would pass away like the dreams of a
child, but that the kingdom of Homer would endure
for ever and ever.
I assented with all my soul. I read, and still
read ; I came to know Homer. A learned com-
mentator knows something of the Greeks, in the
same sense as an oil and colour man may be said
to know something of painting ; but take an un-
tamed child, and leave him alone for twelve months
with any translation of Homer, and he will be
nearer by twenty centuries to the spirit of old
Greece : he does not stop in tlie ninth year of the
siege to admire this or that group of words — Tie
has no books in his tent, but he shares in vital
counsels with the "King of men," and knows the
inmost souls of the impending gods : how pro-
fanely he exults over the powers divine when they
are taught to dread the prowess of mortals ! and
most of all, how he rejoices when the God of War
flies howling from the spear of Diomed, and mounts
into heaven for safety ! Then the beautiful episode
of the sixth book : the way to feel this is not to go
casting about, and learning from pastors and masters
how best to admire it : the impatient child is not
grubbing for beauties, but pushing the siege ; the
women vex him with their delays and their talking
— the mention of the nurse is personal, and little
5 2 Eothen.
sympathy has he for the child that is young enough
to be frightened at the nodding plume of a helmet ;
hut all the while that he thus chafes at the paus-
ing of the action, the strong vertical light of
Homer's poetry is blazing so fuU upon the people
and things of the ' Iliad/ that soon to the eyes of
the child they grow familiar as his mother's shawl;
yet of this great gain he is unconscious, and on
he goes, vengefully thirsting for the best blood of
Troy, and never remitting his fierceness, till almost
suddenly it is changed for sorrow — the new and
generous sorrow that he learns to feel, when the
noblest of all his foes lies sadly dying at the Scsean
gate.
Heroic days are these, but the dark ages of
school-boy life come closing over them. I suppose
it's all right in the end, yet, at first sight, it does
seem a sad intellectual fall from your mother's
dressing-room to a buzzing school. You feel so
keenly the delights of early knowledge ; you form
strange mystic friendships with the mere names
of mountains, and seas, and continents, and mighty
rivers ; you learn the ways of the planets, and
transcend their narrow limits, and ask for the end
of space ; you vex the electric cylinder till it
yields you, for your toy to play with, that subtle
fire in which our earth was forged ; you know of
the nations that have towered high in the world,
and the lives of the men who have saved whole
The Troad, 53
empires from oblivion. What more will you
ever learn ? Yet the dismal change is ordained,
and then, thin meagre Latin (the same for every-
body), with small shreds and patches of Greek, is
thrown like a pauper's pall over all your early
lore ; instead of sweet knowledge, vile, monkish,
doggerel grammars, and graduses, dictionaries, and
lexicons, and horrible odds and ends of dead lan-
guages are given you for your portion, and down
you fall, from Eoman story to a three-inch scrap
of " Scriptores Eomani " — from Greek poetry,
down, down to the cold rations of " Poetae Grseci,"
cut up by commentators, and served out by school-
masters !
It was not the recollection of school nor college
learning, but the rapturous and earnest reading of
my childhood which made me bend forward so
longingly to the plains of Troy.
Away from our people and our horses, Methley
and I went loitering along, by the willowy banks
of a stream that crept in quietness through the
low, even plain. There was no stir of weather
overhead — no sound of rural labour — no sign of
life in the land, but all the earth was dead and
still, as though it had lain for thrice a thousand
years under the leaden gloom of one unbroken
Sabbath.
Softly and sadly the poor, dumb, patient stream
went winding, and winding along, through its shift-
54 Eotheii.
ing pathway ; in some places its waters were
parted, and then again, lower down, they would
meet once more. I could see that the stream
from year to year was finding itself new channels,
and flowed no longer in its ancient track, but I
knew that the springs which fed it were high on
Ida — the springs of Simois and Scamander !
It was coldly, and thanklessly, and with vacant
unsatisfied eyes that I watched the slow coming,
and the gliding away, of the waters. I tell
myseK now, as a profane fact, that I did indeed
stand by that river (Methley gathered some seeds
from the bushes that grew there), but since that I
am away from his banks, " divine Scamander " has
recovered the proper mystery belonging to him as
an unseen deity; a kind of indistinctness, like
that which belongs to far antiquity, has spread
itself over my memory of the winding stream that
I saw with these very eyes. One's mind regains
in absence that dominion over earthly things
which has been shaken by their rude contact ;
you force yourself hardily into the material pres-
ence of a mountain or a river, whose name belongs
to poetry and ancient religion, rather than to the
external world ; your feelings, wound up and kept
ready for some sort of half-expected rapture, are
chilled and borne down for the time under all
this load of real earth and water, — but, let these
once pass out of sight, and then again the old
The Troad. 55
fanciful notions are restored, and the mere realities
which you have just been looking at are thrown
back so far into distance, that the very event of
your intrusion upon such scenes begins to look
dim and uncertain, as though it belonged to
mythology.
It is not over the plain before Troy that the
river now flows ; its waters have edged away far
towards the north, since the day that " divine Sca-
mander " (whom the gods call Xanthus) went down
to do battle for Ilion, " with Mars, and Phoebus,
and Latona, and Diana glorying in her arrows, and
Venus the lover of smiles."
And now, when I was vexed at the migration
of Scamander, and the total loss or absorption of
poor dear Simois, how happily Methley reminded
me that Homer himself had warned us of some
such changes ! The besiegers in beginning their
wall had neglected the hecatombs due to the gods ;
and so, after the fall of Troy, Apollo turned the
paths of the rivers that flow from Ida, and sent
them flooding over the wall till all the beach was
smooth, and free from the unhallowed works of the
Greeks. It is true I see now, on looking to the
passage, that Neptune, when the work of destruc-
tion was done, turned back the rivers to their
ancient ways : —
TTOTa/xovs 5' (Tpf^/e veecrdai
Kap' poou T)7rep irpocrdev lev KvWippoov uSccp,
56 Eothen.
but their old channels, passing through that Hght,
pervious soil, would have been lost in the nine
days' flood, and perhaps the god, when he wdled
to bring back the rivers to their ancient beds, may
have done his work but ill : it is easier, they say,
to destroy than it is to restore.
We took to our horses again, and went south-
ward towards the very plain between Troy and the
tents of the Greeks, but we rode by a line at some
distance from the shore. Whether it was that the
lay of the ground hindered my view towards the
sea, or that I was all intent upon Ida, or whether
my mind was in vacancy, or whether, as is most
like, I had strayed from the Dardan plains, all
back to gentle England, there is now no knowing,
nor caring, but it was — not quite suddenly indeed,
but rather, as it were, in the swelling and falling
of a single wave, that the reality of that very sea-
view which had bounded the sight of the Greeks,
now visibly acceded to me, and rolled full iri upon
my brain. Conceive how deeply that eternal coast-
line— that fixed horizon — those island rocks, must
have graven their images upon the minds of the
Grecian warriors by the time that they had reached
the ninth year of the siege ' conceive the strength
and the fanciful beauty of the speeches with which
a whole army of imagining men must have told
their weariness, and how the sauntering chiefs must
The Troad. 57
have -whelmed that daily, daily scene with their
deep Ionian curses !
And now it was that my eyes were greeted with
a delightful surprise. Whilst we were at Constan-
tinople, Methley and I had pored over the map
together ; we agreed that whatever may have been
the exact site of Troy, the Grecian camp must have
been nearly opposite to the space betwixt the
islands of Imbros and Tenedos : —
but Methley reminded me of a passage in the ' Iliad '
in which Neptune is represented as looking at the
scene of action before Ilion from above the island
of Samothrace. Now Samothrace, according to
the map, appeared to be not only out of all seeing
distance from the Troad, but to be entirely shut out
from it by the intervening Imbros, a larger island,
which stretches its length right athwart the line
of sight from Samothrace to Troy. Piously allow-
ing that the dread Commotor of our globe miglit
have seen all mortal doings, even from the depths
of his own cerulean kingdom, I still felt that if a
station were to be chosen from which to see the
fight, old Homer, so material in his ways of thought,
so averse from all haziness and overreaching, would
have meant to give the god for his station some
spot within reach of men's eyes from tlie plains of
58 Eg then.
Troy. I think that this testing of the poet's words
by map and compass may have shaken a little of
my faith in the completeness of his knowledge.
Well, now I had come : there to the south was
Tenedos, and here at my side was Imbros, all right,
and according to the map ; but aloft over Imbros
— aloft in a far-away heaven — was Samothrace,
the watch-tower of Neptune !
So Homer had appointed it, and so it was : the
map was correct enough, but could not, like Homer,
convey the, wlioh truth. Thus vain and false are
the mere human surmises and doubts which clash
with Homeric writ !
Nobody, whose mind had not been reduced to
the most deplorably logical condition, could look
upon this beautiful congruity betwixt the 'Iliad' and
the material world, and yet bear to suppose that
the poet may have learned the features of the coast
from mere hearsay ; now then, I believed — now
I knew that Homer had passed along here, — that
this vision of Samothrace over-towering the nearer
island was common to him and to me.
After a journey of some few days by the route
of Adramiti and Pergamo, we reached Smyrna.
The letters which Methley here received obliged
him to return to England.
59
CHAPTER V.
INFIDEL SMYRNA.
Smyena, or Giaour Izmir, " Infidel Smyrna," as the
IMussulmans caU it, is the main point of commer-
cial contact betwixt Europe and Asia ; you are
there surrounded by the people and the confused
customs of many and various nations ; you see the
fussy European adopting the East, and calming his
restlessness with the long Turkish " pipe of tran-
quilKty ; " you see Jews offering services, and re-
cei'ving blows : ''' on one side you have a fellow
* The Jews of Smyrna are poor, and having little merchandise
of their own to dispose of, they are sadly importunate in offering
their services as intermediaries : their troublesome conduct has
led to the custom of beating them in the open streets. It is usual
for Europeans to carry long sticks with them for the express pur-
pose of keeping off the chosen people. I always felt ashamed to
strike the poor fellows myself, but I confess to the amusement
with wliich I witnessed the observance of this custom by other
people. The Jew seldom got hurt much, for he was always ex-
pecting the blow, and was ready to recede from it the moment it
came ; one could not help being rather gratified at seeing him
bound away so nimbly, with his long robes floating out in the air,
and then again wheel round, and return with fresh importunities.
6o Eothen.
whose dress and beard would give you a good idea
of the true oriental, if it were not for tlie gobe-
mouche expression of countenance with which he
is swallowing an article in a French newspaper ;
and there, just by, is a genuine Osmanlee, smoking
away with all the majesty of a Sultan ; but before
you have time to admire sufficiently his tranquil
dignity, and his soft Asiatic repose, the poor old
fellow is ruthlessly " run down " by an English
midshipman, who has set sail on a Smyrna hack.
Such are the incongruities of the " infidel city " at
ordinary times ; but when I was there, our friend
Carrigaholt had imported himself, and his oddities,
as an accession to the other and inferior wonders
of Smyrna.
I was sitting alone in my room one day at Con-
stantinople, -when I heard Methley approaching my
door with shouts of laughter and welcome, and
presently I recognised that peculiar cry by which
our friend Carrigaholt expresses his emotions : he
soon explained to us the final causes by which
the Fates had worked out their wonderful purpose
of bringing him to Constantinople. He was al-
ways, you know, very fond of sailing, but he had
got into such sad scrapes (including, I think, a
lawsuit) on account of his last yacht, that he took
it into his head to have a cruise in a merchant
vessel ; so he went to Liverpool, and looked
through the craft lying ready to sail till he found
hifidel Smyrna. 6 1
a smart schooner that perfectly suited his taste.
The destination of the vessel was the last thing he
thought of; and when he was told that she was bound
for Constantinople, he merely assented to that as a
part of the arrangement to which he had no objec-
tion. As soon as the vessel had sailed, the hapless
passenger discovered that his skipper carried on
board an enormous wife with an inquiring mind,
and an irresistible tendency to impart her opinions.
She looked upon her guest as upon a piece of waste
intellect that ought to be carefully tilled. She
tilled him accordingly. If the Dons at Oxford
could have seen poor Carrigaholt thus absolutely
" attending lectures " in the Bay of Biscay, they
would surely have thought him sufficiently pun-
ished for all the wrongs he did them, whilst he was
preparing himself under their care for the other
and more boisterous university. The voyage did
not last more than six or eight weeks, and the
philosophy inflicted on Carrigaholt was not entirely
fatal to him ; certainly he was somewhat emaciated,
and for aught I know, he may have subscribed too
largely to the " Feminine-right-of-reason Society ; "
but it did not appear that his health had been se-
riously affected. There was a scheme on foot, it
would seem, for taking the passenger back to Eng-
land in the same schooner — a scheme, in fact, for
keeping him perpetually afloat, and perpetually
saturated with arguments ; but when Carrigaholt
62 Eothen.
found himself asliore, and remembered that the
skipperina (who had imprudently remained on
board) was not there to enforce her suggestions, he
was open to the hints of his servant (a very sharp
fellow), who arranged a plan for escaping, and
finally brought off his master to Giuseppini's
hotel.
Our friend afterwards went by sea to Smyrna,
and there he now was in his glory. He had a
good, or at all events a gentleman-like judgment
in matters of taste, and as his great object was to
surround himself with all that his fancy could
dictate, he lived in a state of perpetual negotia-
tion ; he was for ever on the point of purchasing,
not only the material productions of the place,
but all sorts of such fine ware as " intelligence,"
" fidelity," and so on. He was most curious, how-
ever, as the purchaser of the " affections." Some-
times he would imagine that he had a marital
aptitude, and his fancy would sketch a graceful
picture in which he appeared reclining on a divan,
with a beautiful Greek woman fondly couched at
his feet, and soothing him with the witchery of
her guitar. Having satisfied himself with the ideal
picture thus created, he would pass into action ;
the guitar he would buy instantly, and would give
such intimations of his wish to be wedded to a Greek
as could not fail to produce great excitement in
the families of the beautiful Smyrniotes. Then,
Infidel Smyrna. 63
again (and just in time, perhaps, to save liim from
the yoke), his dream would pass away, and another
would come in its stead: he would suddenly feel
the yearnings of a father's love, and willing by
force of gold to transcend all natural preliminaries,
he would issue instructions for the purchase of
some dutiful child that could be warranted to love
him as a parent. Then at another time he would
be convinced that the attachment of menials might
satisfy the longings of his affectionate heart, and
thereupon he would give orders to his slave-
merchant for something in the way of eternal
fidelity. You may well imagine that this anxiety
of Carrigaholt to purchase, not only the scenery,
but the many dramatis ;personce belonging to his
dreams, with all their goodness and graces com-
plete, necessarily gave an immense stimulus to
the trade and intrigue of Smyrna, and created
a demand for human virtues which the moral
resources of the place were totally inadequate to
supply. Every day after breakfast, this lover of
the Good and the Beautiful held a levee : in his
ante-room there would be not only the sellers
of pipes, and slippers, and shawls, and suchhke
oriental merchandise — not only embroiderers and
cunning workmen patiently striving to realise his
visions of Albanian dresses — not only the servants
offering for places, and the slave-dealer tendering
his sable ware, but there would be the Greek
64 Eothen.
master waiting to teach his pupil the grammar of
the soft Ionian tongue in which he was to delight
the wife of his imagination, and the music-master
who was to teach him some sweet replies to the
anticipated tones of the fancied guitar ; and then,
above all, and proudly eminent with undisputed
preference of entree, and fraught with the mys-
terious tidings on which the realisation of the
whole dream might depend, was the mysterious
match-maker,* enticing, and postponing the suitor,
yet ever keeping alive in his soul the love of that
pictured virtue, whose beauty (unseen by eyes)
was half revealed to the imagination.
You would have thought that this practical
dreaming must have soon brought Carrigaholt to
a bad end, but he was in much less danger than
might be supposed : for besides that the new
visions of happiness almost always came in time
to counteract the fatal completion of the preceding
scheme, his high breeding and his delicatelj'' sensi-
tive taste almost always befriended him at times
when he was left without any other protection ;
and the efficacy of these qualities in keeping a
man out of harm's way is really immense. In all
baseness and imposture there is a coarse, vulgar
spirit, which, however artfully concealed for a time,
must sooner or later show itself in some little
* Marriages in the East are arranged by professed match-
makers ; many of these, I believe, are Jewesses.
hijidel Sjiiyrna. 65
circumstance sufificiently plain to occasion an
instant jar upon the minds of those wliose taste is
lively and true : to such men a shock of this kind,
disclosing the ugliness of a cheat, is more effectively
convincing than any mere proofs could be.
Thus guarded from isle to isle, and through
Greece and through Albania, this practical Plato,
with a purse in his hand, carried on his mad chase
after the Good and the Beautiful, and yet returned
in safety to his home. But now, poor fellow, the
lowly grave, that is the end of men's romantic
hopes, has closed over all his rich fancies, and all
his high aspirations ; he is utterly married ! ISTo
more hope, no more change for him — no more
relays — he must go on Vetturiniwise to the ap-
pointed end of his journey.
Smyrna, I think, may be called the cliief town
and capital of that Grecian race against which you
will be cautioned so carefully as soon as you touch
the Levant. You will say that I ought not to
confound as one people the Greeks living under a
constitutional Government with the unfortunate
rayahs who " groan under the Turkish yoke," but
I can't see that political events have hitherto
produced any strongly-marked difference of char-
acter. If I could venture to rely (this I feel that
I cannot at all do) upon my own observation, I
should tell you that there were more heartiness
and strength in the Greeks of the Ottoman empire
E
66 Eothen.
than iu those of the new kingdom ; the truth is,
that there is a greater field for commercial enter-
prise, and even for Greek ambition, under the
Ottoman sceptre than is to be found in the
dominions of Otho. Indeed the people, by their
frequent migrations from the limits of the con-
stitutional kingdom to the territories of the Porte,
seem to show, that, on the whole, they prefer
" groaning under the Turldsh yoke," to the honour
of "being the only true source of legitimate power"
in their own land.
For myself I love the race ; in spite of all their
vices, and even in spite of all their meannesses, I
remember the blood that is in them, and still love
the Greeks. The Osmanlees are, of course, by
nature, by religion, and by politics, the strong
foes of the Hellenic people ; and as the Greeks,
poor fellows ! happen to be a little deficient in
some of the virtues which facilitate the transaction
of commercial business (such as veracity, fidelity,
&c.), it naturally follows that they are highly
unpopular with the European merchants. Now
these are the persons through Avhom, either directly
or indirectly, is derived the greater part of the
information which you gather in the Levant, and
therefore you must make up your mind to hear
an almost universal and unbroken testimony against
the character of the people whose ancestors in-
vented Virtue. And strange to say, the Greeks
Infidel Smyrna. 67
themselves do not attempt to disturb this general
unanimity of opinion by any dissent on their part.
Question a Greek on the subject, and he will tell
you at once that the people are " traditori," and
\nil then, perhaps, endeavour to shake off his fair
share of the imputation, by asserting that his father
had been dragoman to some foreign embassy, and
that he (the son), therefore, by the law of nations,
had ceased to be Greek.
" E dunque no siete traditore ? "
" Possible, Signor, ma almeno lo no sono Greco."
Not even the diplomatic representatives of the
Hellenic kingdom are free from the habit of de-
preciating their brethren. I recollect, that at one
of the ports in Syria, a Greek vessel was rather
unfairly kept in quarantine by order of the Board
of Health, a board which consisted entirely of
Europeans. A consular agent from the kingdom
of Greece had lately hoisted his flag in the town,
and the captain of the vessel drew up a remon-
strance, and requested his consul to lay it before
the Board.
" Now, is this reasonable ? " said the consul ;
" is it reasonable that I should place myself in
collision with all the principal European gentlemen
of the place for the sake of you, a Greek ? " The
skipper was greatly vexed at the failure of his
application, but he scarcely even questioned the
justice of the ground which his consul had taken.
68 Eotheii.
Well, it hajDpened some time afterwards, that I
found myself at the same port, having gone thither
witli the view of embarking for the port of Syra.
I was anxious, of course, to elude as carefully as
possible the quarantine detentions which threatened
me on my arrival, and hearing that the Greek
consul had a brother who was a man in authority
at Syra, I got myself presented to the former, and
took the liberty of asking him to give me such a
letter of introduction to his relative at Syra as
might possibly have the effect of shortening the
term of quarantine. He acceded to this request
with the utmost kindness and courtesy ; but when
he replied to my thanks by saying that " in serving
an Englishman he was doing no more than his
strict duty commanded," not even my gratitude
could prevent me from calling to mind his treat-
ment of the poor captain who had the misfortune
of not being an alien in blood to his consul and
appointed protector.
I think that the change which has taken place
in the character of the Greeks has been occasioned,
in great measure, by the doctrines and practice of
their religion. The Greek Church has animated
the Muscovite peasant, and inspired him with
hopes and ideas which, however humble, are still
better than none at all ; but the faith, and the
forms, and the strange ecclesiastical literature
which act so advantageously upon the mere clay
Iiijidcl Sniynia. 69
of the Piiissian serf, seem to hang like lead upon
the ethereal spirit of the Greek. Never, in any
part of the world, have I seen religious perform-
ances so painful to witness as those of the Greeks.
The horror, however, with which one shudders at
their worsliip, is attributable, in some measure, to
the mere effect of costume. In all the Ottoman
dominions, and very frequently, too, in the kingdom
of Otho, the Greeks wear turbans, or other head-
dresses, and shave their heads, leaving only a
rat's-tail at the crown of the head ; they of course
keep themselves covered witliin doors as well as
abroad, and they never remove their head-gear
merely on account of being in a church : but when
the Greek stops to worship at his proper shrine,
then, and then only, he always uncovers ; and as
you see him thus with shaven skull, and savage
tail depending from his crown, kissing a thing of
wood and glass, and cringing with base prostrations
and apparent terror before a miserable picture, you
see superstition in a shape which, outwardly at
least, is sadly abject and repulsive.
The fasts, too, of the Greek Church, produce an
ill effect upon the character of the people, for they
are not a mere farce, but are carried to such an
extent as to bring about a real mortification of the
flesh. The febrile irritation of the frame, operating
in conjunction with the depression of the spirits
occasioned by abstinence, will so far answer the
70
Eothen.
objects of the rite, as to engender some religious
excitement, but this is of a morbid and gloomy
character ; and it seems to be certain, that along
with the increase of sanctity, there comes a fiercer
desire for the perpetration of dark crimes. The
number of murders committed during Lent is
greater, I am told, than at any other time of the
year. A man under the influence of a bean diet-
ary (for this is the principal food of the Greeks
during their fasts) will be in an apt humour for
enriching the shrine of his saint, and passing a
knife through his next - door neighbour. The
moneys deposited upon the shrines are appropri-
ated by priests. The priests are married men, and
have families to provide for ; they " take the good
with the bad," and continue to recommend fasts.
Then, too, the Greek Church enjoins her fol-
lowers to keep holy such a vast number of saints'
days, as practically to shorten the lives of the
people very materially. I believe that one -third
out of the number of days in the year are " kept
holy," or rather heipt stupid, in honour of the saints.
No great portion of the time thus set apart is spent
in religious exercises, and the people don't betake
themselves to any such animating pastimes as
might serve to strengthen the frame, or invigor-
ate the mind, or exalt the taste. On the contrary,
the saints' days of the Greeks in Smyrna are passed
in tlie same manner as the Sabbaths of well-
Infidel SiuyTiia. 7 1
behaved Protestant housemaids iu London — that
is to say, in a steady and serious contemplation of
street scenery. The men perform this duty at
the doors of their houses, — the women at the win-
dows. Windows, indeed, by the custom of Greek
towns, are so decidedly appropriated to the gentle
sex, that a man would be looked upon as utterly
effeminate if he ventured to choose such a position
for the keeping of his saints' days. I was present
one day at a treaty for the hire of some apartments
at Smyrna which was carried on between Carriga-
holt and the Greek woman to whom the rooms
belonged. Carrigaholt objected that the windows
commanded no view of the street ; immediately
the brow of the majestic matron Avas clouded, and
with all the scorn of a Spartan mother she coolly
asked Carrigaholt, and said, "Art thou a tender
damsel, that thou Avouldst sit and gaze from win-
dows ? " The man whom she addressed, however,
had not gone to Greece with any intention of plac-
ing himself under the laws of Lycurgus, and was
not to be diverted from his views by a Spartan re-
buke, so he took care to find himself windows after
his own heart, and there, I believe, for many a
month, he kept the saints' days, and all the days
intervening, after the fashion of Grecian women.
Oh ! let me be charitable to all who write, and
to all who lecture, and to all wlio preach, since
even I, a layman not forced to write at all, can
7 2 Eothen.
hardly avoid chiming in with some tuneful cant !
I have had the heart to talk about the pernicious
effects of the Greek holidays ; and yet to these I
owe most gracious and beautiful visions ! I will
let the words stand, as a humbling proof that I
am subject to that nearly immutable law which
compels a man with a pen in his hand to be utter-
ing every now and then some sentiment not his
own. It seems as though the power of express-
ing regrets and desires by written symbols were
coupled with a condition that the writer should
from time to time express the regrets and desires
of other people — as though, like a French peasant
under the old regime, he were bound to perform a
certain amount of work li'pon the, public highways.
I rebel as stoutly as I can against this horrible
corvSe — I try not to deceive you — I try to set
down the thoughts which are fresh within me, and
not to pretend any wishes or griefs which I do not
really feel ; but no sooner do I cease from watch-
fulness in this regard, than my right liand is, as it
were, seized by some false angel, and even now,
you see, I have been forced to put down such
words and sentences as I ought to have written, if
really and truly I had wished to disturb the saints'
days of the beautiful Smyrniotes !
Disturb their saints' days ? — Oh no ! for as you
move through the narrow streets of the city at
these times of festival, the transom-shaped windows
Infidel Siuyrna. y^t
suspended over your head on either side are filled
with the beautiful descendants of the old Ionian
race ; all (even yonder empress throned at the
window of that humblest mud cottage) are attired
with seeming magnificence ; their classic heads are
crowned with scarlet and laden with jewels or
coins of gold — the whole wealth of the wearers ; ""
their features are touched with a savage pencil,
hardening the outline of eyes and eyebrows, and
lending an unnatural fire to the stern, grave looks
with which they pierce your brain. Endure their
fiery eyes as best you may, and ride on slowly and
reverently, for, facing you from the side of the
transom that looks longwise through the street,
you see the one glorious shape transcendent in its
beauty ; you see the massive braid of hair as it
catches a touch of light on its jetty surface — and
the broad, calm, angry brow — the large eyes deeply
set, and self-relying as the eyes of a conqueror,
with all their rich shadows of thought lying darkly
around ; them you see the thin fiery nostril, and
the bold line of the chin and throat disclosing all
the fierceness, and all the pride, passion, and power
that can live along with the rare womanly beauty
of those sweetly-turned lips. But then there is a
* A Greek woman wears her whole fortune upon her person, in
the sliape of jewels or gold coins. I believe tliat this mode of
investment is adopted in great measure for safety's sake. It has
the advantage of enabling a suitor to reckon, as well as to admire,
the objects of his affection.
74 Eothe7i.
terrible stillness in this breatliing image ; it seems
like the stillness of a savage that sits intent and
brooding day by day upon some one fearful scheme
of vengeance, and yet more like it seems to the
stillness of an Immortal whose will must be known
and obeyed without sign or speech. Bow down !
— bow down and adore the young Persephonie,
transcendent Queen of Shades !
75
CHAPTER VI.
GREEK MAEINERS.
I SAILED from Smyrna in the Ampliitrite, a Greek
brigantine, -which was confidently said to be bound
for the coast of Syria; but I knew that this
announcement was not to be relied upon with
positive certainty, for the Greek mariners are
practically free from the stringency of ship's
papers, and where they will, there they go. How-
ever, I had the whole of the cabin for myself and
my attendant Mysseri, subject only to the society
of the captain at the hour of dinner. Being at
ease in this respect, being furnished, too, with
plenty of books, and finding an unfailing source of
interest in the thorough Greekness of my captain
and my crew, I felt less anxious than most people
would have been about the probable length of the
cruise. I knew enough of Greek navigation to be
sure that our vessel would clin^ to earth lilvC a
child to its mother's knee, and that I should touch
at many an isle before I set foot upon the Syrian
76 EotJien.
coast ; but I had no invidious preference for
Europe, Asia, or Africa (I was safe from all dan-
ger of America), and I felt that I could defy the
winds to blow me upon a coast that was blank and
void of interest. My patience was extremely use-
ful to me, for the cruise altogether endured some
forty days, and that in the midst of winter.
According to me, the most interesting of all the
Greeks (male Greeks) are the mariners, because
their pursuits and their social condition are so
nearly the same as those of their famous ancestors.
You will say that the occupation of commerce must
have smoothed down the salience of their minds ;
and this would be so, perhaps, if their mercantile
affairs were conducted according to the fixed busi-
ness-like routine of Europeans ; but the ventures of
the Greeks are surrounded by such a multitude of
imagined dangers, and (from the absence of regular
marts, in which the true value of merchandise can
be ascertained), are so entirely speculative, and
besides are conducted in a manner so wholly
determined upon by the wayward fancies and
wishes of the crew, that they belong to enter-
prise ratlier than to industry, and are very far
indeed from tending to deaden any freshness of
charactei;
The vessels in which war and piracy were carried
on during the years of the Greek Eevolution, be-
came merchantmen at the end of the war ; but the
Greek Mariners. 77
tactics of the Greeks, as naval warriors, were so
exceedingly cautious, and their habits as commer-
cial marmers are so wild, that the change has been
more slight than you might imagine. The first
care of Greeks (Greek rayahs) when they under-
take a shipj)ing enterprise, is to procure for their
vessel the protection of some European Power.
This is easily managed by a little intriguing with
the dragoman of one of the embassies at Constanti-
nople, and the craft soon glories in the ensign of
Eussia, or the dazzling tricolour, or the Union-jack.
Thus, to the great delight of her crew, she enters
upon the ocean world with a flaring lie at her peak ;
but the appearance of the vessel does no discredit to
the borrowed flag : she is frail, indeed, but is grace-
fully built and smartly rigged ; she always carries
guns, and, in short, gives good promise of mischief
and speed.
The privileges attached to the vessel and her
crew by virtue of the borrowed flag are so great
as to imply a liberty wider even than that which is
often enjoyed in our more strictly civilised countries,
so that there is no good ground for saying that
the development of the true character belonging
to Greek mariners is prevented by the dominion
of the Ottoman. These men are free, too, from
the power of the great capitalist — a power more
withering than despotism itself to the enterprises
of humble venturers. The capital employed is
yS EotJien.
supplied by those whose labour is to render it
productive. The crew receive no wages, but have
all a share in the venture, and in general, I
believe, they are the owners of the whole freight :
they choose a captain, to whom they intrust just
power enough to keep the vessel on her course
in fine weather, but not quite enough for a gale
of wind ; they also elect a cook and a mate. The
cook whom we had on board was particularly
careful about the ship's reckoning, and when, under
the influence of the keen sea-breezes, we grew
fondly expectant of an instant dinner, the great
author of pilafs would be standing on deck with
an ancient quadrant in his hands, calmly affecting
to take an observation. But then, to make up for
this, the captain would be exercising a controlling
influence over the soup, so that all in the end
went well. Our mate was a Hydriot, a native
of that island rock which grows nothing but mar-
iners and mariners' wives. His character seemed
to be exactly that which is generally attributed to
the Hydriot race ; he was fierce, and gloomy, and
lonely in his ways. One of his principal duties
seemed to be that of acting as counter -captain,
or leader of the opposition, denouncing the first
symptoms of tyranny, and protecting even the
cabin-boy from oppression. Besides this, when
things went smoothly, he would begin to prognos-
ticate evil, in order that his more light-hearted
Greek Mariners. 79
comrades might not be puffed up witli the seem-
ing good fortune of the moment.
It seemed to me that tlie personal freedom of
these sailors, who own no superiors except those
of their own choice, is as like as may be to that
of their seafaring ancestors. And even in their
mode of navigation they have admitted no such
an entire change as you would suppose probable.
It is true that they have so far availed themselves
of modern discoveries as to look to the compass
instead of the stars, and that they have superseded
the immortal gods of their forefathers by St
Nicholas in his glass case ;* but they are not yet
so confident either in their needle or their saint,
as to love an open sea, and they still hug their
shores as fondly as the Argonauts of old. Indeed
they have a most unsailor-hke love for the land,
and I really believe that in a gale of wind they
would rather have a rock-bound coast on their lee
than no coast at all. According to the notions
of an English seaman, this kind of navigation
would soon bring the vessel on which it might be
practised to an evil end. The Greek, however, is
unaccountably successful in escaping the conse-
quences of being "jammed in," as it is called,
upon a lee shore.
* St Nicholas is the great patron of Greek sailors : a small pic-
ture of him, enclosed in a glass case, is hung up like a barometer
at one end of the cabin.
8o Eothen.
These seamen, like their forefathers, rely upon
no winds unless they are right astern, or on the
quarter • they rarely go on a wind if it blows at
all fresli, and if the adverse breeze approaches to a
gale, they at once fumigate St Nicholas, and put
up the helm. The con,sequence of course is, that
under the ever-varying winds of the JEgean they
are blown about in the most whimsical manner.
I used to think that Ulysses, with his ten years'
voyage, had taken his time in making Ithaca ; but
my experience in Greek navigation soon made me
understand that he had had, in point of fact, a
pretty good " average passage."
Such are now the mariners of the ^gean : free,
equal amongst themselves, navigating the seas of
their forefathers with the same heroic and yet
childlike spirit of venture, the same half- trustful
reliance upon heavenly aid. They are the liveliest
images of true old Greeks that time and the new
religion have spared to us.
With one exception, our crew were " a solemn
company," and yet, sometimes, if all things went
well, they would relax their austerity, and show
a disposition to fun, or rather to quiet humour.
When this happened, they invariably had recourse
to one of tlieir number who went by tlie name of
" Admiral Nicolou " (he was an amusing fellow),
the poorest, I believe, and the least thoughtful of
tlie crew, but full of rich humour. His oft-told
Greek Mariners. 8i
story of the events by whicli he had gained the
sohrir[uet of " Admiral " never failed to delight
his hearers ; and when he was desired to repeat it
for my benefit, the rest of the crew crowded round
with as much interest as if they were listening to
the tale for the first time. The tale was this : A
number of Greek brigs and brigantines were at
anchor in the bay at Beyrout ; a festival of some
kind particularly attractive to the sailors was go-
ing on in the town, and (whether with or without
leave, I know not) the crews of all the craft, ex-
cept that of Nicolou, had gone ashore. On board
his vessel (she carried dollars) there was, it would
seem, a more careful or more influential captain —
a man who was able to enforce his determination
that at least one of the crew should be left on
board. Nicolou's good -nature was with him so
powerful an impulse that he could not resist the
delight of volunteering to stay with the vessel
whilst his comrades went ashore : his proposal was
accepted, and the crew and captain soon left him
alone on the deck of his vessel. The sailors, gath-
ering together from their several ships, were amus-
ing themselves in the town, when suddenly there
came down from betwixt the mountains one of
those sudden hurricanes which sometimes occur in
southern climes. Nicolou's vessel, together %vith
four of the craft which had been left unmanned,
broke from her moorings, and all five of the vessels
F
S 2 Eothen.
were carried out seaward. The town is on a salient
point at the southern side of the bay, so that the
Admiral was close under the eyes of the inhabi-
tants and the shore-gone sailors, when he gallantly
drifted out at the head of his little fleet. If Nico-
lou could not entirely control the manoeuvres of
the sq[uadron, there was at least no human power
to divide his authority, and thus it was that he
took rank as " Admiral." Nicolou cut his cable,
and so for the time saved his vessel ; the rest of
the fleet under his command were quickly wreck-
ed, whilst the Admiral got away clear to the
open sea. The violence of the squall soon passed
off, but Nicolou felt that his chance of one day
resigning his high duties as an admiral for the
enjoyments of private life on the steadfast shore
mainly depended upon his success in working the
brig with his own hands ; so, after calling on his
namesake, the saint (not for the first time, I take
it), lie got up some canvas and took the helm : he
became equal, he told us, to a score of Mcolous,
and the vessel, as he said, was " manned with his
terrors." For two days, it seems, he cruised at
large ; but at last, either by his seamanship, or by
the natural instinct of the Greek mariners for find-
ing land, he brought his craft close to an unknown
shore that promised weU for his purpose of run-
ning in the vessel, and he was preparing to give
her a good berth on the beach, when he saw a
Greek IMarincrs. 83
gang of ferocious-looking fellows coming down to
the point for which he was making. Poor Xicolou
was a perfectly unlettered and untutored genius,
and for that reason, perhaps, a keen listener to
tales of terror. His mind had been impressed with
some horrible legend of cannibalism, and he now
did not doubt for a moment that the men awaiting
him on the beach were the monsters at whom he
had shuddered in the days of his childhood. The
coast on which Nicolou was running his vessel was
somewhere, I fancy, at the foot of the Anzairie
Mountains, and the fellows who were preparing to
give him a reception were probably very rough
specimens of humanity. It is likely enough that
they might have given themselves the trouble of
putting the Admiral to death, for the purpose
of simplifying their claim to the vessel, and pre-
venting litigation, but the notion of their cannibal-
ism was of course utterly unfounded. Nicolou's
terror had, however, so graven the idea on his
mind, that he could never after dismiss it. Hav-
ing once determined the character of his expectant
hosts, the Admiral naturally thought that it would
be better to keep their dinner waiting any length
of time than to attend their feast in the character
of a roasted Greek, so he put about his vessel, and
tempted the deep once more. After a further
cruise the lonely commander ran his vessel upon
some rocks at another part of the coast ; there she
84 Eothen.
was lost with all lier treasures, and Nicolou was
but too glad to scramble ashore, though without
one dollar in his girdle. These adventures seem
flat enough as I repeat them, but the hero ex-
pressed his terrors by such odd terms of speech,
and such strangely humorous gestures, that the
story came from his lips with an unfailing zest, so
that the crew who had heard the tale so often
could still enjoy to their hearts the rich fright
of the Admiral, and still shudder wdth unabated
horror when he came to the loss of the dollars.
The power of listening to long stories (and for
this, by the by, I am giving you large credit) is
common, I fancy, to most sailors ; and the Greeks
have it to a high degree, for they can be perfectly
patient under a narrative of two or three hours'
duration. These long stories are mostly founded
upon oriental topics, and in one of them I
recognised, with some alteration, an old friend of
the ' Arabian Nights.' I inquired as to the source
from which the story had been derived, and the
crew all agreed that it had been handed down
unwritten from Greek to Greek. Their account of
the matter does not, perhaps, go very far towards
showing the real origin of the tale, but when I
afterwards took up the ' Arabian Nights,' I became
strongly impressed with a notion tliat they must
have sprung from the brain of a Greek. It seems
to me that these stories, whilst they disclose a
Greek Mariners. 85
complete and habitual knowledge of things Asiatic,
have about them so much of freshness and life, so
much of the stirring and volatile European charac-
ter, that they cannot have owed their conception
to a mere oriental, who, for creative purposes, is a
thing dead and dry — a mental mummy that may
have been a live king just after tlie Flood, but has
since lain balmed in spice. At the time of the
Caliphat, the Greek race was familiar enough to
Bagdad ; they were the merchants, the pedlars,
the barbers, and intriguers-general of south-western
Asia, and therefore the oriental materials with
which tlie Arabian tales were wrought must have
been completely at the command of the inventive
people to whom I would attribute their origin.
We were nearing the isle of Cyprus, when there
arose half a gale of wind, with a heavy chopping
sea. ]\Iy Greek seamen considered that the
weather amounted, not to a half, but to an integral
gale of wind at the very least ; so they put up the
helm, and scudded for twenty hours. When we
neared the main land of Anadoli, the gale ceased,
and a favourable breeze springing up, soon brought
us off Cyprus once more. Afterwards the wind
changed again, but we were still able to lay our
course by sailing close-hauled.
We were at length in such a position, that by
holding on our course for about half an hour, we
should get under the lee of the island, and find
86 Eothen.
ourselves in smooth water, but tlie wind had been
gradually" freshening ; it now blew hard, and there
was a heavy sea running.
As the grounds for alarm arose, the crew
gathered together in one close group ; they stood
pale and grim under their hooded capotes like
monks awaiting a massacre, anxiously looking
by turns along the pathway of the storm, and
then upon each other, and then upon the eye
of the captain, who stood by the helmsman.
Presently the Hydriot came aft, more moody
than ever, the bearer of fierce remonstrance
against the continuing of the struggle ; he received
a resolute answer, and still we held our course.
Soon there came a heavy sea that caught the bow
of the brigantine as she lay jammed in betwixt the
waves ; she bowed her head low under the waters,
and shuddered through all her timbers, then gal-
lantly stood up again over the striving sea with
bowsprit entire. But where were the crew ? — It
was a crew no longer, but rather a gathering of
Greek citizens ; — the shout of the seamen was
changed for the murmuring of the people — the
spirit of the old Demos was alive. The men came
aft in a body, and loudly asked that the vessel
should be put about, and that the storm be no
longer tempted. Now, then, for speeches : — the
captain, his eyes flashing fire, his frame all quiv-
ering with emotion — wielding his every limb, like
Greek Marine7'S. 87
another and a louder voice — pours fortli the
eloquent torrent of his threats and his reasons,
his commands and his prayers ; he promises — he ~
vows — he swears that there is safety in holding on
— safety, if Greeks will he hrave ! The men hear
and are moved, but the gale rouses itself once
more, and again the raging sea comes trampling
over the timbers that are the life of all. The fierce
Hydriot advances one step nearer to the captain,
and the angry growl of the people goes floating
down the wind ; but they listen, they waver once
more, and once more resolve, then waver again,
thus doubtfully hanging between the terrors of the
storm and the persuasion of glorious speech, as
though it were the Athenian that talked, and Philip
of Macedon that thundered on the weather-bow.
Brave thoughts winged on Grecian words gained
their natural mastery over terror ; the brigantine
held on her course, and reached smooth water at
last.
I landed at Limesol, the westermost port of
Cyprus, leaving the brigantine to sail for Larnecca,
and there await my arrival.
88
CHAPTER Vir.
CYPKUS.
There was a Greek at Limesol, who hoisted his
flag as an English vice-consul, and he insisted
upon my accepting his hospitality. With some
difficulty, and chiefly by assuring him that I could
not delay my departure beyond an early hour in
the afternoon, I induced him to allow my dining
with his family, instead of banqueting all alone
with the representative of my sovereign, in con-
sular state and dignity. The lady of the house, it
seemed, had never sat at table with an European :
she was very shy about the matter, and tried hard
to get out of the scrape ; but the husband, I fancy,
reminded her that she was theoretically an English
woman, by virtue of the flag that waved over her
roof, and that she was bound to show her nation-
ality by sitting at meat with me. Finding herself
inexorably condemned to bear with the dreaded
gaze of European eyes, she tried to save her inno-
cent children from the hard fate awaiting herself,
Cyprtis. 89
but I obtained that all of them (and I tldnk there
were four or five) should sit at the table. You
will meet with abundance of stately receptions,
and of generous hospitality too, in the East ; but
rarely, very rarely in those regions (or even, so far
as I know, in any part of southern Europe), does
one gain an opportunity of seeing the familiar and
indoor life of the people.
This family party of the good consul's (or rather
of mine, for I originated the idea, though he fur-
nished the materials) went off very well. The
mamma was shy at first, but she veiled her awk-
wardness by affecting to scold the chil^en. Tliese
had all immortal names — names, too, which they
owed to tradition, and certainly not to any classi-
cal enthusiasm of their parents. Every instant I
was delighted by some such phrases as these : —
" Themistocles, my love, don't fight." — "Alcibiades,
can't you sit still ? " — " Socrates, put down the
cup." — " Oh, fie ! Aspasia, don't, oh, don't be
naughty ! " It is true that the names were pro-
nounced Socrahtie, Aspahsie — that is, according to
accent, and not according to quantity but I sup-
pose it is scarcely now to be doubted that they
were so sounded in ancient times.
To me it seems, that of all the lands I know
(you will see in a minute how I connect this piece
of prose with the isle of Cyprus), there is none in
which mere wealth — mere unaided wealth, is held
90 Eothen.
half so cheaply — none in which a poor devil of a
millionaire without birth or ability, occupies so
humble a place as in England. My Greek host
was chatting with me (I think upon the roof of
the house, for that is the lounging-place in Eastern
climes) when suddenly he assumed a serious air,
and intimated a wish to talk over the British Con-
stitution— a subject with which, as he assured me,
he was thoroughly acquainted. He presently, how-
ever, remarked that there was one anomalous cir-
cumstance attendant upon the practical working of
our political system which he had never been able
to hear explained in a manner satisfactory to him-
self. Erom the fact of his having found a difficulty
in his subject, I began to think that my host
might really know rather more of it than his an-
nouncement of a thorough knowledge had led me
to expect ; I felt interested at being about to hear
from the Hps of an intelligent Greek, quite remote
from the influence of European opinions, what
might seem to him the most astonishing and in-
comprehensible of all those results which have
followed from the action of our political institu-
tions. The anomaly — the only anomaly which
had been detected by the vice -consular wisdom
— consisted in the fact that Eothschild (the late
money-monger) had never been the Prime Minister
of England ! I gravely tried to throw some light
upon the mysterious causes that had kept the
Cyprus. 9 1
worthy Israelite out of the Cabinet ; but I think
I could see that my explanation was not satisfac-
tory. Go and argue with the flies of summer
that there is a power Divine yet greater than the
sun in the heavens, but never dare hope to con-
vince the people of the South that there is any
other God than Gold.
My intended journey was to the site of the
Paphian temple. I take no antiquarian interest
in ruins, and care little about them unless they
are either striking in themselves, or else serve to
mark some spot very dear to my fancy. I knew
that the ruins of Paphos were scarcely, if at all,
discernible, but there was a will and a longing,
more imperious than mere curiosity, that drove
me thither.
For this, just then, was my pagan soul's desire
— that (not forfeiting my inheritance for the life
to come) it had yet been given me to live through
this world — to live a favoured mortal under the old
Olympian dispensation — to speak out my resolves
to the listening Jove, and hear him answer with
approving thunder — to be blessed with divine
counsels from the lips of Pallas Athenie, — to be-
lieve — ay, only to believe — to believe for one
rapturous moment that in the gloomy depths of
the grove by the mountain's side, there were some
leafy pathway that crisped beneath the glowing
sandal of Aphrodetie — Aphrodetie, not coldly dis-
9 2 Eothen.
dainful of even a mortal's love ! And tliis vain,
heathenish longing of mine was father to the
thought of visiting the scene of the ancient
worship.
The isle is beautiful : from the edge of the rich,
flowery fields on which I trod, to the midway sides
of the snowy Olympus, the ground could only here
and there show an abrupt crag or a high straggling
ridge that upshouldered itself from out of the
wilderness of myrtles, and of a thousand bright-
leaved shrubs that twined their arms together in
lovesome tangles. The air that came to my lips
was warm and fragrant as the ambrosial breath of
the goddess, infecting me — not (of course) with a
faith in the old religion of the isle, but with a
sense and apprehension of its mystic power, — a
power that was still to be obeyed — obeyed by me;
for why otlierwise did I toil on with sorry horses
to "where, for HEE, the hundred altars glowed
with Arabian incense, and breathed Avith the fra-
grance of garlands ever fresh?" '"'
I passed a sadly disenchanting night in the
cabin of a Greek priest — not a priest of the god-
dess, but of the Greek Church : there was but one
humble room, or rather shed, for man, and priest,
and beast. Tlie next morning I reached Baffa
• ... ulii teniplum illi, centumquc Saba;o
Thure calent arre, sertisc[ue rect'iitibus halaiit
iENEiD, i. 415.
Cyprus. 93
(Paplios), a village not far distant from the site
of the temple. There was a Greek husbandman
there who (not for emolument, but for the sake of
the protection and dignity which it afforded) had
got leave from the man at Limesol to hoist his
flag as a sort of deputy-provisionary-subvice-pro-
acting-consul of the British sovereign. The poor
fellow instantly changed his Greek head-gear for
the cap of consular dignity, and insisted upon ac-
companying me to the ruins. I would not have
stood this, if I could have felt the faintest gleam
of my yesterday's pagan piety, but I had ceased to
dream, and had nothing to dread from any new
disenchanters.
The ruins (the fragments of one or two prostrate
pillars) lie upon a promontory, bare and unmystified
by the gloom of surrounding groves. My Greek
friend in his consular cap stood by, respectfully
waiting to see what turn my madness would take
now that I had come at last into the presence of
the old stones. If you have no taste for research,
and can't affect to look for inscriptions, there is
some awkwardness in coming to the end of a
merely sentimental pilgrimage, when the feeh'ng
which impelled you has gone : in such a strait you
have nothing to do but to laugh the thing off as
well as you can — and, by the by, it is not a bad
plan to turn the conversation (or rather allow the
natives to turn it) towards the subject of hidden
94 Eothen.
treasures. This is a topic on which they will
always speak with eagerness ; and if they can
fancy that you, too, take an interest in such mat-
ters, they will not only begin to think you per-
fectly sane, but will even perhaps give you credit
for some more than human powers of forcing dark
Earth to show you its hoards of gold.
Wlien we returned to Baffa, the vice-consul
seized a club, with the quietly determined air of a
brave man, resolved to do some deed of note. He
went into the yard adjoining his cottage where
there were some thin, thoughtful, canting cocks,
and serious, low-church-looking hens, respectfully
listening, and chickens of tender years so well
brought up as scarcely to betray in their conduct
the careless levity of youth. The vice-consul
stood for a moment quite calm — collecting his
strength ; then suddenly he rushed into the midst
of the congregation, and began to deal death and
destruction on all sides ; he spared neither sex
nor age. The dead and dying were immediately
removed from the field of slaughter, and in less
than an hour, I think, they were brought to the
table, deeply buried in mounds of snowy rice.
My host was in all respects a fine, generous
fellow. I could not bear the idea of impoverishing
him by my visit, and my faithful Mysseri not only
assured me that I might safely offer money to the
vice-consul, but recommended that I should give
Cyprus. 95
no more to him than to " the others," meaning any-
other peasant. I felt, however, that there was
something about the man, besides the flag and cap,
which made me shrink from offering coin ; and, as
I mounted my horse on departing, I gave him the
only thing fit for a present that I happened to
have with me, a rather handsome clasp-dagger,
brought from Vienna. The poor fellow was in-
eftably grateful, and I had some difficulty in tear-
ing myself from out of the reach of his thanks.
At last I gave him what I supposed to be the last
farewell, and rode on • but I had not gained more
than about a hundred yards, when my host came
bounding and shouting after me, with a goats'-milk
cheese in his hand, and this (it was rather a bur-
thensome gift) he fondly implored me to accept.
In old times the shepherd of Theocritus, or (to
speak less dishonestly) the shepherd of the " Poetae
Grseci," sang his best song; I in this latter age
presented my best dagger, and both of us received
the same rustic reward.
It had been known that I should return to
Limesol, and when I arrived there, I found that a
noble old Greek had been hospitably plotting to
have me for his guest. I willingly accepted his
offer. The day of my arrival happened to be my
host's birthday, and during all the morning there
was a constant influx of visitors who came to offer
their congratulations. A few of these were men.
96 Eothen.
but most of tliem were young graceful girls.
Almost all of them went through the ceremony
with the utmost precision and formality : each in
succession spoke her blessing in the tone of a
person repeating a set formula, — then deferentially
accepted the invitation to sit, — partook of the
proffered sweetmeats and the cold, glittering water,
— remained for a few minutes either in silence or
engaged in very thin conversation, — then arose,
delivered a second benediction, followed by an
elaborate farewell, and departed.
The bewitching power attributed at this day to
the women of Cyprus is curious in connection with
the worship of the sweet goddess who called their
isle her o%vn. The Cypriot is not, I think, nearly
so beautiful in face as the Ionian queens of Izmir,
but she is tall, and slightly formed. There is a
high-souled meaning and expression, a seeming
conciousness of gentle empire, that speaks in the
wavy lines of the shoulder, and winds itself like
Cytherea's own cestus around the slender waist ;
then the richly-abounding hair (not enviously gath-
ered together under the head-dress) descends the
neck, and passes the waist in sumptuous braids. Of
all other women with Grecian blood in their veins,
the costume is graciously beautiful ; but these, the
maidens of Limesol — their robes are more gently,
more sweetly imagined, and fall like Julia's cashmere
in soft, luxurious folds. The common voice of the
Cyprus. 9 7
Levant allows that in face the women of Cyprus
are less beautiful than their majestic sisters of
Smyrna ; and yet, says the Greek, he may trust him-
self to one and all of the bright cities of the --^gean,
and may still weigh anchor with a heart entire, but
that so surely as he ventures upon the enchanted
isle of Cyprus, so surely will he know the rapture
or the bitterness of love. The charm, they say,
owes its power to that which the people call the
astonishing " politics " (ttoXitikt;) of the women —
meaning, I fancy, their tact and their witching
ways ; the word, however, plainly fails to express
one half of that which the speakers would say.
I have smiled to hear the Greek, with all his
plenteousness of fancy, and all the wealth of his
generous language, yet vainly struggling to de-
scribe the ineffable spell which the Parisians dis-
pose of in their own smart way, by a summary
" Je ne s^ai quoi."
I went to Larnecca, the chief city of the isla
and over the water at last to Bey rout.
9S
CHAPTER VITL
LADY HESTER STAlfHOPE.
Beyrout on its land-side is hemmed in by moun-
tains. There dwell the Druses.
Often enough I saw the ghostly images of the
women with their exalted horns stalking through
the streets ; and I saw, too, in travelling, the af-
frighted groups of the mountaineers as they fled
before me, under the fear that my troop might be
a company of Income-tax commissioners, or a press-
gang enforcing the conscription for Mehemet Ali ;
but nearly all my knowledge of the people, except
in regard of their mere costume and outward
appearance, is drawn from books and despatches.
To these last I have the honour to refer you.'''
I received hospitable welcome at Beyrout, from
the Europeans as well as from the Syrian Chris-
tians ; and I soon discovered that in aU society the
standing topic of interest was an Englishwoman
* The papers laid before Parliament by the Foreign Office in
1840 and 1841.
Lady Hester Stanhope. 99
(Lady Hester Stanhope) who lived in an old con-
vent on the Lebanon range, at the distance of
about a day's journey from the town. The lady's
habit of refusing to see Europeans added the
charm of mystery to a character which, even with-
out that aid, was sufficiently distinguished to com-
mand attention.
Many years of Lady Hester's early womanhood
had been passed with Lady Chatham, at Burton
Pynsent ; and during tliat inglorious period of the
heroine's life, her commanding character, and (as
they would have called it, in the language of those
days) her " condescending kindness " towards my
mother's family, had increased in them those strong
feelings of respect and attachment, which her rank
and station alone would have easily won from
people of the middle class. You may suppose
how deeply the quiet women in Somersetshire
must have been interested, when they slowly
learned, by vague and uncertain tidings, that the
intrepid girl who had been used to break their
vicious horses for them was reigning in sovereignty
over the wandering tribes of western Asia ! I
know that her name was made almost as familiar
to me in my childhood as the name of Robinson
Crusoe ; both were associated with the spirit of
adventure : but whilst the imagined life of the cast-
away mariner never failed to seem glaringly real,
the true story of the Englishwoman ruling over
I oo Eothen.
Arabs always sounded to me like a fable. I never
had heard, nor indeed, I believe, had the rest of
the world ever heard anything like a certain
account of the heroine's adventures : all I knew
was, that in one of the drawers, the delight of
my childhood, along with the attar of roses, and
fragrant wonders from Hindostan, there were
letters carefully treasured, and trifling presents
which I was taught to think valuable because
they had come from the Queen of the Desert — a
Queen who dwelt in tents, and reigned over wan-
dering Arabs.
The subject, however, died away, and from the
ending of my childhood up to the period of my
arrival in the Levant, I had seldom even heard a
mentioning of the Lady Hester Stanhope ; but now
wherever I went I was met by the name so famil-
iar in sound, and yet so full of mystery from the
vague, fairy-tale sort of idea which it brought to
my mind. I heard it, too, connected with fresh
wonders ; for it was said that the woman was now
acknowledged as an inspired being by the people
of the mountains, and it was even hinted with
horror that she claimed to be more than a prophet.
I felt at once that my mother would be sorry
to hear that I had been within a day's ride of her
early friend without offering to see her, and I
therefore despatched a letter to the recluse, men-
tioning the maiden name of my mother (whose
Lady Hester Staiihope. loi
marriage was subsequent to Lady Hester's depar-
ture), and saying that if there existed on the part
of her ladyship any wish to hear of her old Somer-
setshire acquaintance, I should make a point of
visiting her. My letter was sent by a foot-mes-
senger who was to take an unlimited time for his
journey, so that it was not, I think, until either
the third or the fourth day that the answer arrived.
A couple of horsemen covered with mud suddenly
dashed into the little court of the locanda in which
I was staying, bearing themselves as ostentatious-
ly as though they were carrpng a cartel from the
devil to the angel Michael; one of these (the
other being his attendant) was an Italian by birth
(though now completely orientalised), who lived in
my lady's establishment as doctor nominally, but
practically as an upper servant ; he presented me
a very kind and appropriate letter of invitation.
It happened that I was rather unwell at this
time, so that I named a more distant day for my
visit than I should otherwise have done ; and after
all I did not start at the time fixed. "VVliilst still
remaining at Be}Tout I received another letter
from Lady Hester; this I will give you, for it
shows that whatever the eccentricities of the writer
may have been, she could at least be thoughtful
and courteous : —
" Sir, — I hope I shall be disappointed in seeing you on
"Wednesday, for the late rains have rendered the river Damoor,
I02 Eothen.
if not dangerous, at least very unpleasant to pass for a person
who has been lately indisposed, for if the animal swims, you
would be immerged in the waters. The weather will prob-
ably change after the 21st of the moon, and after a couple of
days the roads and the river will be passable, therefore I shall
expect you either Saturday or Monday.
" It will be a great satisfaction to me to have an opportu-
nity of inquiring after your mother, who was a sweet lovely
girl when I knew her. — Believe me, sir, yours sincerely,
" Hester Lucy Stanhope."
Early one morning I started from Beyrout.
There are no established relays of horses in Syria,
at least not in the line which I took, and you
therefore hire your cattle for the whole journey, or
at all events for your journey to some large town.
Under these circumstances you don't of course re-
quire a functionary empowered to compel the sup-
ply of horses, and you can therefore dispense with
a Tatar. In other respects the mode of travelling
through Syria differs very little from that which I
have described as prevailing in Turkey. I hired
my horses and mules for the whole of the journey
from Beyrout to Jerusalem. The owner of the
beasts (he had a couple of fellows under him) was
the most dignified member of my party ; he was,
indeed, a magnificent old man, and was called
shereef, or " holy," — a title of honour, which, with
the privilege of wearing the green turban, he well
deserved, not only from the blood of the Prophet that
glowed in his veins, but from the well-known sanc-
tity of his life, and the length of his blessed beard.
Lady Hester StanJiopc. 103
Mysseri, of course, still travelled with me, but
the Arabic was not one of the seven languages
which he spoke so perfectly, and I was therefore
obliged to hire another interpreter. I had no diffi-
culty in finding a proper man for the purpose — one
Demetrius, or, as he was always called, Dthemetri,
a native of Zante, who had been tossed about by
fortune in all directions. He spoke the Arabic
well, and communicated with me in Italian. The
man was a very zealous member of the Greek
Church. He had been a tailor. He had a thor-
oughly Tatar countenance, — a countenance so odd
and ugly that it expressed all his griefs of body
and mind in the most ludicrous manner imaginable.
He embellished the natural caricature of his per-
son by suspending about his neck and shoulders
and waist, quantities of little bundles and bags
filled with treasures, which he thought too valuable
to be intrusted to the jerking of pack-saddles. The
mule that fell to his lot on this journey every now
and then, forgetting that his rider was a saint, and
remembering that he was a tailor, took a quiet roll
upon the ground, and stretched his limbs calmly
and lazily, like a good man awaiting a sermon.
Dthemetri never got seriously hurt, but tlie subver-
sion and dislocation of his bundles made him for
the moment a sad spectacle of ruin, and when he
regained his legs, his wrath with the mule was sure
to be verv amusing. He always addressed the
1 04 Eothen.
beast in language, implying that lie, a Christian and
saint, had been personally insulted and oppressed
by a Mahometan mule. Dthemetri, however, on
the whole proved to be a most able and capital ser-
vant. I suspected him of now and then leading me
out of my way, in order that he might have the
opportunity of visiting the shrine of a saint, and,
on one occasion, as you will see by-and-by, he was
induced by religious motives to commit a gross
breach of duty ; but putting these pious faults out
of the question (and they were faults of the right
side), he was always faithful and true to me.
I left Saide (the Sidon of ancient times) on my
right, and about an hour, I think, before sunset,
began to ascend one of the many low hills of
Lebanon. On the summit before me was a broad,
grey mass of irregular building, which, from its
position, as well as from the gloomy blankness of
its walls, gave the idea of a neglected fortress ; it
had, in fact, been a convent of great size, and, like
most of the religious houses in this part of the
world, had been made strong enough for opposing
an inert resistance to any mere casual band of
assailants who might be unprovided with regular
means of attack : this was the dwelling-place of
Chatham's fiery granddaughter.
The aspect of the first court I entered was such
as to keep one in the idea of having to do with
a fortress, rather than a mere peaceable dwelling-
Lady Hestey Stanhope. 105
place. A number of fierce-looking and ill-clad
Albanian soldiers were banging about tbe place in-
ert, and striving, as well as tbey could, to bear tbe
curse of tranquillity ; two or tbree of tbem were
smoking tbeir tcJiihouques, but tbe rest were lying
torpidly upon tbe flat stones, like tbe bodies of
departed brigands. I rode on to an inner part of
tbe building, and at last, quitting my borses, was
conducted tbrougb a doorway tbat led me at once
from an open court into an apartment on tbe
ground-floor. As I entered, an oriental figure in
male costume approached me from tbe furtber end
of tbe room, witb many and profound bows ; but
tbe growing sbades of evening prevented me from
distinguishing the features of the personage who
was receiving me witb this solemn welcome. I
had always, however, understood tbat Lady Hester
Stanhope wore the male attire, and I began to utter
in English tbe common civilities that seemed to be
proper on tbe commencement of a visit by an un-
inspired mortal to a renowned prophetess ; but the
figure which I addressed only bowed so much the
more, prostrating itself almost to the ground, but
speaking to me never a word. I feebly strivod
not to be outdone in gestures of respect ; but pres-
ently my bowing opponent saw the error under
which I was acting, and suddenly convinced me,
that at all events I was not yd in tbe presence of
a superhuman being, by declaring that he was far
io6 Eothen.
from being " Miladi," and was, in fact, nothing
more or less godlike than the poor doctor who had
brought his mistress's letter to Beyrout.
Lady Hester, in the right spirit of hospitality,
now sent and commanded me to repose for a while
after the fatigues of my journey, and to dine.
The cuisine was of the oriental kind — highly
artificial, and, as I thought, very good. I rejoiced,
too, in the wine of the Lebanon.
After dinner the doctor arrived with Miladi's
compliments, and an intimation that she would be
happy to receive me if I were so disposed. It had
now grown dark, and the rain was falling heavily,
so that I got rather wet in following my guide
through the open courts that I had to pass in order
to reach the presence - chamber. At last I was
ushered into a small chamber, protected from the
draughts of air passing through the doorway by a
folding screen ; passing this, I came alongside of a
common European sofa. There sat the Lady Pro-
phetess. She rose from her seat very formally —
spoke to me a few words of welcome, pointed to a
chair — one already placed exactly opposite to her
sofa at a couple of yards' distance — and remained
standing up to the full of her majestic height,
perfectly stiU and motionless, until I had taken
my appointed place : she then resumed her seat —
not packing herself up according to the mode of
the orientals, but allowing her feet to rest on the
Lady Hester Stanhope. 107
floor or the footstool : at the moment of seating
lierself she covered her lap with a mass of loose,
white drapery. It occurred to me at the time that
she did this in order to avoid the awkwardness of
sitting in manifest trousers under the eye of a
European ; but I can hardly fancy now, that, with
her wilful nature, she would have brooked such a
compromise as this.
The woman before me had exactly the person
of a prophetess — not, indeed, of the divine sibyl
imagined by Domenichino, so sweetly distracted
betwixt love and mystery, but of a good, business-
like, practical prophetess, long used to the exercise
of her sacred calling. I have been told by those
who knew Lady Hester Stanhope in her youth,
that any notion of a resemblance betwixt her and
the great Chatham must have been fanciful ; but
at the time of my seeing her, the large command-
ing features of the gaunt woman, then sixty years
old or more, certainly reminded me of the states-
man that lay dying '" in the House of Lords, ac-
cording to Copley's picture. Her face was of the
most astonishing wliiteness ; t she wore a very large
turban made seemingly of pale cashmere shawls,
and so disposed as to conceal the hair ; her dress,
from the chin down to the point at which it was
Historically "fainting ; ''' the death did not occur until long
afterwards.
+ I am told that in youth she was exceedingly sallow.
io8 Eothen.
concealed by the drapery on her lap, was a mass
of white linen loosely folding — an ecclesiastical
sort of affair — -more like a surplice than any of
those blessed creations which our souls love under
the names of " dress," and "-frock," and " boddice,"
and " collar," and " habit-shirt," and sweet " chemi-
sette."
Such was the outward seeming of the personage
that sat before me ; and indeed she was almost
bound, by the fame of her actual achievements, as
well as by her sublime pretensions, to look a little
differently from the rest of womankind. There
had been something of grandeur in her career.
After the death of Lady Chatham, which happened
in 1803, she lived under the roof of her uncle, the
second Pitt, and when he resumed the Government
in 1804, she became the dispenser of much patron-
age, and sole Secretary of State for the depart-
ment of Treasury banquets. Not having seen the
lady until late in her life, when she was fired
with spiritual ambition, I can hardly fancy that
she could have performed her political duties in
the saloons of the minister with much of feminine
sweetness and patience : I am told, however, that
she managed matters very well indeed. Perhaps it
was better for the lofty-minded leader of the House
to have his reception-rooms guarded by this stately
creature than by a merely clever and managing
woman; it was fitting that the wholesome awe
Lady Hester StanJiope. 109
with which he filled the minds of the country
gentlemen should be aggravated by the presence
of his majestic niece. But the end was approach-
ing. The sun of Austerlitz showed the Czar madly
sliding his splendid army, like a weaver's shuttle,
from his right hand to his left, under the very
eyes — the deep, grey, watchful eyes of Napoleon ;
before night came, the coalition was a vain thing
— meet for history, and the heart of its great
author, when the terrible tidings came to his ears,
was wrung with grief — fatal grief. In the bitter-
ness of his despair, he cried out to his niece, and
bid her " Eoll up the Map of Europe ; " there
was a little more of suffering, and at last, with his
swollen tongue (so they say) still muttering some-
thing for England, he died by the noblest of all
sorrows.
Lady Hester, meeting the calamity in her own
fierce way, seems to have scorned the poor island
that had not enough of God's grace to keep the
" heaven-sent " minister alive. I can hardly tell
why it should be, but there is a longing for the
East, very commonly felt by proud people when
goaded by sorrow. Lady Hester Stanhope obeyed
this impulse ; for some time, I believe, she was at
Constantinople, and there her magnificence, as well
as her near alliance to the late minister, gained
her great influence. Afterwards she passed into
Syria. The people of that country, excited by the
1 1 o Eothen.
acliievements of Sir Sidney Smith, had begun to
imagine the possibility of their land being occupied
by the English ; and many of them looked upon
Lady Hester as a princess who came to prepare
the way for the expected conquest. I don't know
it from her own lips, or indeed from any certain
authority, but I have been told that she began her
connection with the Bedouins by making a large
present of money (£500 — immense in piastres) to
the sheik whose authority was recognised in the
desert, between Damascus and Palmyra. The
■prestige created by the rumours of her high and
undefined rank, as well as of her wealth and corre-
sponding magnificence, was well sustained by her
imperious character and her dauntless bravery.
Her influence increased. I never heard anything
satisfactory as to the real extent or duration of her
sway, but I understood that, for a time at least,
she certainly exercised something like sovereignty
amongst the wandering tribes. And now that her
earthly kingdom had passed away, she strove for
spiritual power, and impiously dared, as it was
said, to boast some mystic union with the very
God of very God !
A couple of black slave -girls came at a signal,
and supplied their mistress, as well as myself, with
lighted tchihouques, and coffee.
The custom of the East sanctions, and almost
commands, some moments of silence whilst you
Lady Hester Sta7ihope. 1 1 1
are inhaling the first few breaths of the fragrant
pipe : the pause was broken, I think, by my lady,
who addressed to me some inquiries respecting my
mother, and particularly as to her marriage ; but
before I had communicated any great amount of
family facts, the spirit of the prophetess kindled
within her, and presently (though with all the
skill of a woman of the world) she shuffled away
the subject of poor dear Somersetshire, and bound-
ed onward into loftier spheres of thought.
My old acquaintance with some of " the twelve"
enabled me to bear my part (of course a very
humble one) in a conversation relative to occult
science. Milnes once spread a report that every
gang of gipsies was found, upon inquiry, to have
come last from a place to the westward, and to be
about to make the next move in an eastern direc-
tion ; either, therefore, they w^re to be all gathered
together towards the rising of the sun by the mys-
terious finger of Providence, or else they were to
revolve round the globe for ever and ever. Both
of these suppositions were highly gratifying, be-
cause they were both marvellous ; and though the
story on which they were founded plainly sprang
from the inventive brain of a poet, no one had
ever been so odiously statistical as to attempt a
contradiction of it. I now mentioned the story as
a report to Lady Hester Stanhope, and asked her
if it were true : I could not have touched upon
1 1 2 Eothen.
any imaginable subject more deeply interesting to
my hearer — more closely akin to her habitual
train of thinking ; she immediately threw off all
the restraint belonging to an interview with a
stranger ; and when she had received a few more
similar proofs of my aptness for the marvellous,
she went so far as to say that she would adopt
me as her d^ve, in occult science.
For hours and hours, this wondrous white
woman poured forth her speech, for tlie most part
concerning sacred and profane mysteries; but every
now and then she would stay her lofty flight, and
swoop down upon the world again : whenever this
happened, I was interested in her conversation.
She adverted more than once to the period of
her lost sway amongst the Arabs, and mentioned
some of the circumstances that aided her in obtain-
ing influence with the wandering tribes. The
Bedouin, so often engaged in irregular warfare,
strains his eyes to the horizon in search of a com-
ing enemy just as habitually as the sailor keeps
his " bright look-out " for a strange sail. In the
absence of telescopes, a far-reaching sight is highly
valued ; and Lady Hester had this power. She
told me that, on one occasion, when there was
good reason to expect hostilities, a far-seeing Arab
created great excitement in the camp by declaring
that he could distinguish some moving objects
upon the very farthest point within the reach of
Lady Hester Stanhope. 1 1 3
his eyes : Lady Hester was consulted, and she in-
stantly assured her comrades in arms that there
were indeed a number of horses within sight, but
they were without riders. The assertion proved to
be correct, and from that time forth her superiority
over all others in respect of far sight remained
undisputed.
Lady Hester related to me this other anecdote
of her Arab life. It was when the heroic quaKties
of the Englishwoman were just beginning to be
felt amongst the people of the desert, that she was
marching one day along with the forces of the
.tribe to which she had allied herself. She per-
ceived that preparations for an engagement were
going on ; and upon her making inquiry as to the
cause, the shells: at first affected mystery and con-
cealment, but at last confessed that war had been
declared against his tribe on account of his alli-
ance with the English princess, and that they
were now unfortunately about to be attacked by a
very superior force. He made it appear that Lady
Hester was the sole cause of hostility betwixt his
tribe and the impending enemy, and that his sa-
cred duty of protecting the Englishwoman whom
he had admitted as his guest was the only obstacle
which prevented an amicable settlement of the
dispute. The sheik hinted that his tribe was
likely to sustain an almost overwhelming blow,
but at the same time declared that no fear of the
H
1 1 4 Eothen.
consequences, however terrible to him and his
whole people, should induce him to dream of aban-
doning his illustrious guest. The heroine instantly
took her part : it was not for her to be a source of
danger to her friends, but rather to her enemies ;
so she resolved to turn away from the people, and
trust for help to none save only her haughty self
The sheiks affected to dissuade her from so rash
a course, and fairly told her that although they
(having been freed from her presence) would be
able to make good terms for themselves, yet that
there were no means of allaying the hostility felt
towards her, and that the whole face of the desert
would be swept by the horsemen of her enemies
so carefully, as to make her escape into other dis-
tricts almost impossible. The brave woman was
not to be moved by terrors of this kind ; and
bidding farewell to the tribe which had honoured
and protected her, she turned her horse's head, and
rode straight away, without friend or follower.
Hours had elapsed, and for some time she had
been alone in the centre of the round horizon,
when her quick eye perceived some horsemen in
the distance. The party came nearer and nearer ;
soon it was plain that they were making towards
her ; and presently some hundreds of Bedouins,
fully armed, galloped up to her, ferociously shout-
ing, and apparently intending to take her life at
the instant with their pointed spears. Her face at
Lady Hester StajiJwpe. 115
the time was covered with the yashmak, accord-
ing to Eastern usage ; but at the moment when
the foremost of the horsemen had all but reached
her witli their spears, she stood up in her stirrups
— withdrew the yashmak that veiled the terrors
of her countenance — waved her arm slowly and
disdainfully, and cried out with a loud voice,
" Avauut ! " ''' The horsemen recoiled from her
glance, but not in terror. The threatening yells
of the assailants were suddenly changed for loud
shouts of joy and admiration at the bravery of the
stately Englishwoman, and festive gun-shots were
fired on all sides around her honoured head. The
truth was that the party belonged to the tribe
with which she had allied herself, and that the
threatened attack, as well as the pretended appre-
hension of an engagement, had been contrived for
the mere purpose of testing her courage. The day
ended in a great feast prepared to do honour to
the heroine ; and from that time her power over
the minds of the people grew rapidly. Lady
Hester related this story with great spirit ; and I
recollect that she put up her yashmak for a mo-
ment, in order to give me a better idea of the
effect which she produced by suddenly revealing
the awfulness of her countenance.
* She spoke it, I daresay, in English , the words would not be
the less effective for being spoken in an unknown tongue. Lady
Hester, I believe, never learnt to speak the Arabic with a perfect
accent.
1 1 6 EotJien.
Witli respect to her then present mode of life,
Lady Hester informed me that for her sin she had
subjected herself during many years to severe pen-
ance, and that her self-denial had not been without
its reward. " Vain and false," said she, " is all the
pretended knowledge of the Europeans : their doc-
tors will tell you that the drinking of milk gives
yellowness to the complexion ; milk is my only
food, and you see if my face be not white." Her
abstinence from food intellectual was carried as
far as her physical fasting : she never, she said,
looked upon a book nor a newspaper, but trusted
alone to the stars for her sublime knowledge. She
usually passed the nights in communing with these
heavenly teachers, and lay at rest during the day-
time. She spoke with great contempt of the
frivolity and benighted ignorance of the modern
Europeans ; and mentioned, in proof of this, that
they were not only untaught in astrology, but
were unacquainted with the common and every-
day phenomena produced by magic art. She spoke
as if she would make me understand that all sor-
cerous spells were completely at her command, but
that the exercise of such powers would be derog-
atory to her higli rank in the heavenly kingdom.
She said that the spell by which the face of an
absent person is thrown upon a mirror was within
the reach of the humblest and most contemptible
Lady Hester StanJiope. 1 1 7
magicians, but that the practice of suchlike arts
was unholy as well as vulgar.
Wo spoke of the bending twig by which, it is
said, precious metals may be discovered. lu rela-
tion to this, the prophetess told me a story rather
against herself, and inconsistent with the notion of
her being perfect in her science ; but I think that
she mentioned the facts as having happened before
she attained to the great spiritual authority which
she now arrogated. She told me that vast treasures
were known to exist in a situation which she men-
tioned, if I rightly remember, as being near Suez ;
that Napoleon, profanely brave, thrust his arm
into the cave containing the coveted gold, and that
instantly his flesh became palsied. But the youth-
ful hero (for she said he was great in his genera-
tion) was not to be thus daunted ; he fell back
characteristically upon his brazen resources, and
ordered up his artillery. Yet man could not strive
with demons, and Napoleon was foiled. In latter
years came Ibrahim Pasha, with heavy guns, and
wicked spells to boot ; but the infernal guardians
of the treasure were too strong for him. It was
after this that Lady Hester passed by the spot,
and she described with animated gesture the force
and energy with which the divining twig had sud-
denly leaped in her hands. She ordered excavations,
and no demons opposed her enterprise. The vast
1 1 8 Eothen.
chest in which the treasure had been deposited
■was at length discovered, but lo, and behold, it
was full of pebbles ! She said, however, that the
times were approaching in which the hidden treas-
ures of the earth would become available to those
who had " true knowledge."
Speaking of Ibrahim Pasha, Lady Hester said
that he was a bold, bad man, and was possessed of
some of those common and wicked macrical arts,
upon which she looked down with so much con-
tempt. She said, for instance, that Ibrahim's life
was charmed against balls and steel, and that after
a battle he loosened the folds of his shawl, and
shook out the bullets like dust.
It seems that the St Simonians once made over-
tures to Lady Hester. She told me that the P^re
Enfantin (the chief of the sect) had sent her a ser-
vice of plate, but that she had declined to receive
it. She delivered a prediction as to the probability
of the St Simonians finding the " mystic mother,"
and this she did in a way which would amuse
you. Unfortunately I am not at liberty to mention
this part of the woman's prophecies ; why, I can-
not tell, but so it is, that she bound me to eternal
secrecy.
Lady Hester told me that since her residence at
Djoun, she had been attacked by an illness so
severe as to render her for a long time perfectly
helpless : aU her attendants fled, and left her to
Lady Hester Stanhope. 1 1 9
perish. Whilst she lay thus alone and quite un-
able to rise, robbers came and carried away lier
property:'^' she told nie that they actually un-
roofed a great part of the building, and employed
engines with pulleys for the purpose of hoisting out
such of her valuables as were too bulky to pass
through doors. It would seem that before tliis
catastrophe Lady Hester had been rich in the
possession of Eastern luxuries ; for she told me,
that when the chiefs of the Ottoman force took
refuge with her after the fall of Acre, they brought
their wives also in great numbers. To all of these
Lady Hester, as she said, presented magnificent
dresses ; but her generosity occasioned strife only
instead of gratitude, for every woman who fancied
her present less splendid than that of another, with
equal or less pretension, became absolutely furious.
All these audacious guests had now been got rid
* The proceedings thus described to me, by Lady Hester, as
having taken place during her illness, were afterwards re-enacted
at the time of her death. Since I wrote the words to which this
note is appended, I received from "Warburton an interesting ac-
count of the heroine's death, or rather the circumstances attending
the discovery of the event ; and I caused it to be printed in the
former editions of this work. I must now give up the borrowed
ornament, and omit my extract from my friend's letter, for the
rightful owner has reprinted it in ' The Crescent and the Cross. '
I know what a sacrifice I am making ; for in noticing the first
edition of this book, reviewers turned aside from the text to the
note, and remarked upon the interesting information which War-
burton's letter contained, and the descriptive force with which it
was written.
1 20 Eothen.
of; but the Albanian soldiers, who had taken
refuge with Lady Hester at the same time, still
remained under her protection.
In trutli, this half-ruined convent, guarded by
the proud heart of an English gentlewoman, was
the only spot throughout all Syria and Palestine
in which the will of Mehemet Ali and his fierce
lieutenant was not the law. More than once had
the Pasha of Egypt commanded that Ibrahim
should have the Albanians delivered up to him ;
but this white woman of the mountain (grown
classical, not by books, but by very pride), answered
only with a disdainful invitation to " come and
take them." Whether it was that Ibrahim was
acted upon by any superstitious dread of inter-
fering with the prophetess (a notion not at all
incompatible with his character as an able Orien-
tal commander), or that he feared the ridicule of
putting himself in collision with a gentlewoman, he
certainly never ventured to attack the sanctuary ;
and so long as Chatham's granddaughter breathed
a breath of life, there was always this one hillock,
and that, too, in the midst of a most populous
district, which stood out, and kept its freedom.
Mehemet Ali used to say, I am told, that the
Englishwoman had given him more trouble than
all the insurgent people of Syria and Palestine.
The prophetess announced to me that we were
upon the eve of a stupendous convulsion which
Lady Hester Stanhope. i 2 1
would destroy the then recognised value of all
property upon earth ; and, declaring that those
only who should be in the East at the time of the
great change could hope for greatness in the new
life that was then close at hand, she advised me,
whilst there was yet time, to dispose of my pro-
perty in poor, frail England, and gain a station in
Asia. She told me that, after leaving her, I should
go into Egypt, but that in a little while I should
return into Spia! I secretly smiled at this last
prophecy as a " bad shot," because I had fully
determined, after visiting the Pyramids, to take
ship from Alexandria for Greece, But men struggle
vainly in the meshes of their destiny ! the un-
believed Cassandra was right after all : the plague
came, and the necessity of avoiding the quarantine
detention, to which I should have been subjected
if I had sailed from Alexandria, forced me to alter
my route. I went down into Egypt, and stayed
there for a time, and then crossed the desert
once more, and came back to the mountains of
the Lebanon, exactly as the prophetess had fore-
told.
Lady Hester talked to me long and earnestly on
the subject of religion, announcing that the Messiah
was yet to come. She strived to impress me with
the vanity and falseness of all European creeds, as
well as with a sense of her own spiritual greatness.
Throughout her conversation upon these high
12 2 Eothen.
topics, she carefully insinuated, without actually
asserting, her heavenly rank.
Amongst other much more marvellous powers,
the lady claimed one which most women have
more or less — namely, that of reading men's
characters in their faces. She examined the line
of my features very attentively, and told me the
result : this, however, I mean to keep hidden.
One favoured subject of discourse was that of
" race : " upon this she was very diffuse, and yet
rather mysterious. She set great value upon the
ancient French,'" not Norman, blood (for that she
vilified), but professed to despise our English no-
tion of " an old family." She had a vast idea of
the Cornish miners on account of their race ; and
said, if she chose, she could give me the means of
rousing them to the most tremendous enthusiasm.
Such are the topics on which the lady mainly
conversed ; but very often she would descend to
more worldly chat, and then she was no longer the
prophetess, but the sort of woman that you some-
times see, I am told, in London drawing-rooms
— cool, decisive in manner, unsparing of enemies,
* In a letter which I afterwards received from Lady Hester, she
mentioned incidentally Lord Hardwicke, and said that he was "the
kindest-hearted man existing — a most manly, firm character. He
comes from a good breed — all the Yorkes excellent, with ancient
French blood in their veins." The underscoring of the word
"ancient" is by the writer of the letter, who had certainly no
great love or veneration for the French of the present day : she
did not consider them as descended from her favourite stock.
Lady Hester Stanhope. 123
full of audacious fun, and saying the downright
things that the sheepish society around her is
afraid to utter. I am told that Lady Hester was,
in her youth, a capital mimic ; and she showed
me that not all the queenly dulness to which she
had condemned herself — not all her fasting and
solitude — had destroyed this terrible power. The
first whom she crucified in my presence was poor
Lord Byron. She had seen him, it appeared, I
know not where, soon after his arrival in the East,
and was vastly amused at his little affectations.
He had picked up a few sentences of the Eomaic,
and with these he affected to give orders to his
Greek servant in a tva d'apameihornenos style. I
can't tell whether Lady Hester's mimicry of the
bard was at all close, but it was amusing : she
attributed to him a curiously coxcomical lisp.
Another person, whose style of speaking the
lady took off very amusingly, was one who would
scarcely object to sufier by the side of Lord Byron
— I mean Lamartine. The peculiarity which
attracted her ridicule was an over-refinement of
manner. According to my lady's imitation of
Lamartine (I have never seen him myself), he had
none of the violent grimace of his countiymen, and
not even their usual way of talking, but rather
bore himself mincingly, like the humbler sort of
English dandy.''"
* It is said that deaf people can hear what is said concerning
1 24 Eothen.
Lady Hester seems to Lave heartily despised
everything approaching to exquisiteness. She told
me, by the by (and her opinion upon that subject
is worth having), that a downright manner, amount-
ing even to brusqueness, is more effective than
any other with the oriental ; and that amongst the
English, of all ranks and all classes, there is no
man so attractive to the orientals — no man who
can negotiate with them half so effectively — as a
good, honest, open - hearted, and positive naval
officer of the old school.
I have told you, I think, that Lady Hester could
deal fiercely with those she hated. One man above
all others (he is now uprooted from society) she
blasted with her wrath ; you would have thought
that in the scornfulness of her nature she must have
sprung upon her foe with more of fierceness than of
skill. But this was not so, for, with all the force
and vehemence of her invective, she displayed a
sober, patient, and minute attention to the details
of vituperation, which contributed to its success
a thousand times more than mere violence.
themselves, and it would seem that those who live without books
or newspapers, know all that is written about them. Lady
Hester Stanhope, though not admitting a book or newspaper into
her fortress, seems to have known the way in which M. Lamar-
tine mentioned her in his book ; for in a letter which she wrote to
me after my return to England, she says, ' ' Although neglected,
as Monsieur le M." (referring, as I believe, to M. Lamartine)
"describes, and without books, yet my head is organised to
supply the want of them, as well as accjuired knowledge."
Lady Hester StanJiope. 125
During the hours that this sort of conversation
or rather discourse was going on, our tchibouques
were from time to time replenished, and the lady,
as well as I, continued to smoke with little or no
intermission till the interview ended. I think
that the fragrant fumes of the Latakiah must have
helped to keep me on my good behaviour as a
patient disciple of the prophetess.
It was not till after midnight that my visit for
the evening came to an end. "When I quitted
my seat the lady rose, and stood up in the same
formal attitude (almost that of a soldier in a state
of " attention ") which she had assumed on my
entrance ; at the same time she pushed the loose
drapery from her lap, and let it fall down upon
the floor.
The next morning after breakfast I was visited
by my lady's secretary — the only European, except
the doctor, whom she retained in her household.
This secretary, like the doctor, was Italian, but he
preserved more signs of European dress and Euro-
pean pretensions than his medical fellow - slave.
He spoke little or no English, though he wrote it
pretty well, having been formerly employed in a
mercantile house connected with England. The
poor fellow was in an unhappy state of mind. In
order to make you understand the extent of his
spiritual anxieties, I ought to have told you that
the doctor (who had sunk into the complete Asiatic.
126 Eothen.
and had condescended accordingly to the perfor-
mance of even menial services) had adopted the
common faith of all the neighbouring people, and
had become a firm and happy believer in the
divine power of his mistress. Not so the secre-
tary. T\Qien I had strolled with him to such a
distance from the building as rendered him safe
from being overheard by human ears, he told me
in a hollow voice, trembling with emotion, that there
were times at which he doubted the divinity of
Miladi. I said nothing to encourage the poor fel-
low in his frightful state of scepticism, for I saw
that, if indulged, it might end in positive infidel-
ity. Lady Hester, it seemed, had rather arbitrarily
abridged the amusements of her secretary; and
especially she had forbidden him from shooting
small birds on the mountaia-side. This oppression
had aroused in him a spirit of inquiry that might
end fatally, — perhaps for himself — perhaps for the
"religion of the place."
The secretary told me that his mistress was
strongly disliked by the surrounding people, and
that she oppressed them a good deal by her
exactions. I know not whether this statement
had any truth in it ; but whether it was or was
not well founded, it is certain that in Eastern
countries hate and veneration are very commonly
felt for the same object •, and the general belief in
the superhuman power of this wonderful white
Lady Hesier Stanhope. 1 2 7
lady — her resolute and imperious character, and
above all, perhaps, her fierce Albanians (not back-
ward to obey an order for the sacking of a village),
inspired sincere respect amongst the surrounding
inhabitants. Now the being " respected " amongst
orientals, is not an empty or merely honorary
distinction, but carries with it a clear right to
take your neighbour's corn, his cattle, his eggs,
and his honey, and almost anything that is his,
except his wives. This law was acted upon by
the Princess of Djoun, and her establishment was
supplied by contributions apportioned amongst the
nearest of the villages.
I understood that the Albanians (restrained, I
suppose, by the dread of being delivered up to
Ibraliim) had not given any very troublesome
proofs of their unruly natures. The secretary told
me that their rations, including a small allowance
of coffee and tobacco, were served out to them with
tolerable regularity.
I asked the secretary how Lady Hester was off
for horses, and said that I would take a look at
the stable. The man did not raise any opposition
to my proposal, and affected no mystery about the
matter, but said that the only two steeds which then
belonged to ]\Iiladi were of a very humble sort.
This answer, and a storm of rain then beginning
to descend, prevented me at the time from under-
taking my journey to the stables ; and I don't
128 Eothe7i.
know that I ever thought of the matter after-
wards, until my return to England, when I saw
Lamartine's eye-witnessing account of the strange
horse saddled, as he pretends, by the hands of his
]\Iaker !
When I returned to my room (this, as my
hostess told me, was the only one in the whole
building that kept out the rain). Lady Hester sent
to say she would be glad to receive me again. I
was rather surprised at this, for I had understood
that slie reposed during the day, and it was now
little later than noon. " Eeally," said she, when
I had taken my seat and my pipe, " we were to-
gether for hours last night, and still I have heard
nothing at all of my old friends ; now, do tell me
something of your dear mother, and her sister ; I
never knew your father — it was after I left Burton
Pynsent that your mother married." I began to
make slow answer ; but my questioner soon went
off again to topics more sublime : so that this
second interview, though it lasted two or three
hours, was all occupied by the same sort of varied
discourse as that which I have been describing.
In the course of the afternoon the captain of an
English man-of-war arrived at Djoun, and Lady
Hester determined to receive him for the same
reason as that which had induced her to allow my
visit — namely, an early intimacy with his family.
I and the new visitor — he was a pleasant, amusing
Lady Hester Stajihope. 1 29
man — dined together, and we were afterwards in-
vited to the presence of my Lady, and with her
we sat smoking till midnight. The conversation
turned chiefly, I think, upon magical science. I
had determined to be off at an early hour the next
morning, and so at the end of this interview I
bade my Lady farewell. With her parting words
she once more advised me to abandon Europe, and
seek my reward in the East ; and she urged me
too to give the like counsels to my father, and
tell him that ">S'Ae Imd said it!'
Lady Hester's unholy claim to supremacy in the
spiritual kingdom was, no doubt, the suggestion of
fierce and inordinate pride most perilously akin to
madness; but I am quite sure that the mind of the
woman was too strong to be thoroughly overcome
by even this potent feeling. I plainly saw that
she was not an unhesitating follower of her own
system; and I even fancied that I could distinguish
the brief moments during which she contrived to
believe in Herself, from those long and less happy
intervals in which her own reason was too stron<T
for her.
As for the Lady's faith in Astrology and Magic
science, you are not for a moment to suppose that
this implied any aberration of intellect. She be-
lieved these things in common with those around
her; and it could scarcely be otherwise, for she
seldom spoke to anybody except crazy old dervishes
1 30 Eothen.
who at once received her alms and fostered her
extravagances ; and even when (as on the occasion
of my visit) she was brought into contact with a
person entertaining different notions, she still re-
mained uncontradicted. • Tliis entourage, and the
habit of fasting from books and newspapers, were
quite enough to make her a facile recipient of any-
marvellous story.
I think that in England we scarcely acknow-
ledge to ourselves how much we owe to the wise
and watchful press which presides over the forma-
tion of our opinions, and which brings about this
splendid result — namely, that in matters of belief
the humblest of us are lifted up to the level of the
most sagacious, so that really a simple Cornet in
the Blues is no more likely to entertain a foolish
belief about ghosts, or witchcraft, or any other
supernatural topic, than the Lord High Chancelloi
or the Leader of the House of Commons. How
different is the intellectual rSgime of Eastern
countries ! In Syria, and Palestine, and Egypt,
you might as well dispute the eflQcacy of grass
or grain as of Magic. There is no controversy
about the matter. The effect of this, the unani-
mous, belief of an ignorant people upon the mind
of a stranger, is extremely curious, and well worth
noticing. A man coming freshly from Europe is
at first proof against the nonsense with which he
is assailed; but often it happens that after a little
Lady Hester Stanhope. 131
while the social atmosphere of Asia will begin to.
infect him, and, if he has been unaccustomed to
the cunning of fence by which Eeason prepares the
means of guarding herself against fallacy, he will
yield himself at last to the faith of those around
him ; and this he will do by sympathy, it would
seem, rather than from conviction. I have been
much interested in observing that the mere " prac-
tical man," however skilful and shrewd in his own
way, has not the kind of power that will enable
him to resist the gradual impression made upon
his mind by the common opinion of those whom
he sees and hears from day to day. Even amongst
the English (though their good sense and sound
religious knowledge would be likely to guard them
from error) I have known the calculating merchant,
the inquisitive traveller, and the post-captain, with
his bright, wakeful eye of command, — I have known
all these surrender themselves to the really magic-
like influence of other people's minds. Their lan-
guage at first is that they are " staggered ; " lead-
ing you by that expression to suppose that they
had been witnesses to some phenomenon, which it
was very difficult to account for otherwise than by
supernatural causes ; but when I have questioned
further, I have always found that these " stagger-
ing " wonders were not even specious enough to be
looked upon as good " tricks." A man in England,
who gained his whole liveliliood as a conjuror,
12,2 Eothen.
would soon be starved to death if he could perform
uo better miracles than those which are wrought
with so much effect in Syria and Egypt. Some-
times, no doubt, a magician will make a good hit
(Sir John once said a " good thing ") ; but all such
successes range, of course, under the head of mere
" tentative miracles," as distinguished by the strong-
brained Paley.
^33
CHAPTER IX.
THE SANCTUARY.
I CROSSED the plain of Esdraelon, and entered
amongst the hills of beautiful Galilee. It was at
sunset that my path brought me sharply round
into the gorge of a little valley, and close upon a
grey mass of dwellings that lay happily nestled in
the lap of the mountain. There was one only
shining point still touched with the light of the
sun, who had set for all besides : a brave sign this
to " holy Shereef," and the rest of my Moslem men ;
for the one glittering summit was the head of a
minaret, and the rest of the seeming village that
had veiled itself so meekly under the shades of
evening was Christian Nazareth !
Within the precincts of the Latin convent there
stands the great Catholic church which encloses
the sanctuary — the dwelling of the blessed Virgin.""'
* The Greek Cliurch does not recognise this as the true Sanc-
tnaiy, and many Protestants look upon all the traditions, by which
it is attempted to ascertain the holy places of Palestine, as utterly
fabulous. For myself, I do not mean either to affirm or deny the
1 34 EotJien.
This is a grotto of about ten feet either way, form-
ing a little chapel or recess, and reached by de-
scending steps. It is decorated with splendour :
on the left hand a column of granite hangs from
the top of the grotto to within a few feet of the
ground ; immediately beneath, another column of
the same size rises from the ground as if to meet
the one above ; but between this and the suspend-
ed pillar there is an interval of more than a foot.
These fragments once formed the single column on
which the angel leant when he spoke and told to
Mary the mystery of her awful blessedness. Hard
by, near the altar, the holy Virgin was kneeling.
I had been journeying (cheerily indeed, for the
voices of my followers were ever within my hear-
ing, but yet), as it were, in solitude, for I had no
correctness of the opinion -whicli has fixed upon this cas the true
site, but merely to mention it as a belief entertained without ques-
tion by my brethren of the Latin Church, whose guest I was at
the time. It would be a great aggravation of the trouble of writ-
ing about these matters, if I were to stop in the midst of every
sentence for the purpose of saying " so-called," or " so it is said,''
and would, besides, sound very ungraciously ; yet I am anxious to
be literallj"^ true in all I write. Now thus it is that I mean to get
over my difficulty. "Whenever in this great bundle of papers, or
book (if book it is to be), you see any words about matters of
religion which would seem to involve the assertion of my own
opinion, you are to understand me just as if one or other of the
qualifying phrases above mentioned had been actually inserted
in every sentence. My general direction for you to construe me
thus, will render all that I write as strictly and actually true, as
if I had every time lugged in a formal declaration of the fact that
I was merely expressing the notions of other people.
The Sanctuary. 135
comrade to whet the edge of my reason, or wake
me from my noon- day dreams. I was left all
alone to be taught and swayed by the beautiful
circumstances of Palestine travelling, — by the
clime, and the land, and the name of the land,
with all its mighty import, — by the glittering
freshness of the sward, and the abounding masses
of flowers that furnished my sumptuous pathway,
— by the bracing and fragrant air that seemed to
poise me in my saddle, and to lift me along as
a planet appointed to glide through space.
And the end of my journey was Nazareth — the
liome of the blessed Virgin ! In the first dawn of
my manhood the old painters of Italy had taught
me their dangerous worship of the beauty that is
more than mortal ; but those images all seemed
shadowy now, and floated before me so dimly,
the one overcasting the other, that they left me
no one sweet idol on which I could look, and look
again, and say, " Maria mia ! " Yet they left me
more than an idol — they left me (for to them I
am wont to trace it) a faint apprehension of
beauty not compassed with lines and shadows —
they touched me (forgive, proud Marie of Anjou !)
they touched me with a faith in loveliness trans-
cending mortal shapes.
I came to Nazareth, and was led from the con-
vent to the Sanctuary. Long fasting will some-
times heat a man's brain, and draw him away
1 3^ Eothen.
out of the world — will disturb Ms judgment, con-
fuse his notions of right and wrong, and weaken
his power of choosing the right. I had fasted
perhaps too long, for I was fevered with the zeal
of an insane devotion to. the heavenly queen of
Christendom. But I knew the feebleness of this
gentle malady, and knew how easily my watchful
reason, if ever so slightly provoked, would drag
me back to life : let there but come one chilling
breath of tlie outer world, and all this loving piety
would cower, and fly before the sound of my own
bitter laugh. And so as I went, I trod tenderly,
not looking to the right nor to the left, but bend-
ing my eyes to the ground.
The attending friar served me well — he led me
down quietly, and all but silently, to the Virgin's
home. The mystic air was so burnt with the
consuming flames of the altar, and so laden with
incense, that my chest laboured strongly and heaved
with luscious pain. There — there with beating
heart the Virgin knelt, and listened : I strived to
grasp, and hold with my riveted eyes some one of
the feigned Madonnas ; but of all the heaven -lit
faces imagined by men, there was none that would
abide with me in this the very sanctuary. Im-
patient of vacancy, I grew madly strong against
nature ; and if by some awful spell, some im-
pious rite, I could Oh, most sweet religion,
that bid me fear God, and be pious, and yet not
TJie Sanctuary. 137
cease from loving ! Eeligion and gracious custom
commanded me that I fall down loyally, and kiss
the rock that blessed Mary pressed. With a half
consciousness — with the semblance of a thrilling
hope that I was plunging deep, deep into my
first knowledge of some most holy mystery, or
of some new, rapturous, and daring sin, I knelt,
and bowed down my face till I met the smooth
rock with my lips. One moment — one moment
— my heart, or some old pagan demon within me
woke up, and fiercely bounded — my bosom was
lifted, and swung — as though I had touched her
warm robe. One moment — one more, and then
— the fever had left me. I rose from my knees.
I felt hopelessly sane. The mere world reappeared.
My good old monk was there, dangling his key
with listless patience ; and as he guided me from
the church, and talked of tlie refectory and the
coming repast, I listened to his words with some
attention and pleasure.
138
CHAPTER X.
THE MONKS OF PALESTINE.
Whenever you come back to me from Palestine,
we will fi-nd some "golden wine"'^"" of Lebanon,
that we may celebrate with apt libations the
monks of the Holy Land ; and though the poor
fellows be theoretically " dead to the world," we
will drink to every man of them a good long
life, and a merry one ! Graceless is the traveller
who forgets his obligations to these saints upon
earth — little love has he for merry Christendom,
if he has not rejoiced with great joy to find, in
the very midst of water -drinking infidels, those
lowly monasteries where the blessed juice of the
grape is quaffed in peace. Ay ! ay ! We will
fill our glasses till they look like cups of amber,
and drink profoundly to our gracious hosts in
Palestine.
Christianity permits and sanctions the drinking
of wine ; and of all the holy brethren in Palestine
* "Vino d'oro "
The IMonks of Palestine. 139
there are none who hold fast to this gladsome rite
so strenuously as the monks of Damascus ; not
that they are more zealous Christians than the
rest of their fellows in the Holy Land, but that
they have better wine. Whilst I was at Damas-
cus, I had my quarters at the Franciscan convent
there ; and very soon after my arrival I asked one
of the monks to let me know something of the
spots that deserved to be seen. I made my in-
quiry in reference to the associations with which
the city had been hallowed by tlie sojourn and
adventures of St Paul. " There is nothing in all
Damascus," said the good man, " half so well
worth seeing as our cellars ; " and forthwith he
invited me to go, see, and admire the long range
of liquid treasure that he and his brethren had
laid up for themselves on earth. And these, I
soon found, were not as the treasures of the miser
that lie in unprofitable disuse ; for day by day,
and hour by hour, the golden juice ascended from
the dark recesses of the cellar to the uppermost
brains of the friars. Dear old fellows ! in the
midst of that solemn land, their Christian laughter
rang loudly and merrily — their eyes kept flashing
with joyful fire, and their heavy woollen petticoats
could no more weigh down the springiness of their
paces, than the filmy gauze of a danseuse can clog
lier bounding step.
You would be likely enough to fancy that these
140 EotJien.
monastics are men who have retired to the sacred
sites of Palestine from an enthusiastic longing to
devote themselves to the exercise of religion in
the midst of the very land on which its first seeds
were cast ; and this is partially, at least, the case
with the monks of the Greek Church ; but it is
not witli enthusiasts that the Catholic establish-
ments are filled. The monks of the Latin con-
vents are chiefly persons of the peasant class,
from Italy and Spain, who have been handed
over to these remote asylums by order of their
ecclesiastical superiors, and can no more account
for their being in the Holy Land than men of
marching regiments can explain why they are in
" stupid quarters." I believe that these monks
are for the most part well-conducted men, — punc-
tual in their ceremonial duties, and altogether
humble-minded Christians. Their humility is not
at all misplaced, for you see at a glance (poor
fellows) that they belong to the " lag remove "
of the human race. If the taking of the cowl
does not imply a complete renouncement of the
world, it is at least (in these days) a thorough
farewell to every kind of useful and entertaining
knowledge ; and accordingly, the low bestial brow
and the animal caste of those almost Bourbon
features, show plainly enough that all the intel-
lectual vanities of life have been really and truly
abandoned. But it is hard to quench altogether
The Mojiks of Palestine. 1 4 1
the spirit of inquiiy that stirs in the human breast,
and accordingly these monks inquire — they are
always inquiring — inquiring for " news ! " Poor
fellows ! they could scarcely have yielded themselves
to the sway of any passion more difficult of gratifi-
cation, for they have no means of communicating
with the busy world, except through European
travellers ; and these — in consequence, I suppose,
of that restlessness and irritability that generally
haunt their wanderings — seem to have always
avoided the bore of giving any information to
their hosts. * As for me, I am more patient and
ffood-natured ; and when I found that the kind
monks who gathered round me at Nazareth were
longing to know the real truth about the General
Bonaparte who had recoiled from the siege of
Acre, I softened my heart down to the good hu-
mour of Herodotus, and calmly began to " sing
history," telling my eager hearers of the Frencii
Empire, and the greatness of its glory, and of
"Waterloo, and the fall of Napoleon ! Now my
story of this marvellous ignorance on the part of
the poor monks is one upon which (though de-
pending on my own testimony) I look " with
considerable suspicion : " it is quite true (how
silly it would be to invent anything so witless ■),
and yet I think I could satisfy the mind of a
"reasonable man" that it is false. Many of the
older monks must have been in Europe at the
142 Eotheji.
time when the Italy and tlie Spain, from which
they came, were in act of taking their French les-
sons, or had parted so lately with their teachers,
that not to know of " the Emperor " was impos-
sible : and these men could scarcely, therefore,
have failed to bring with them some tidings of
Napoleon's career. Yet I say that that which I
have written is true, — the one who believes be-
cause I have said it will be right (she always is),
— whilst poor Mr " reasonable man," who is con-
vinced by the weight of my argument, will be
completely deceived.
In Spanish politics, however, the monks are
better instructed. The revenues of the monas-
teries, which had been principally supplied by the
bounty of their most Catholic ]\Iajesties, have been
withheld since Ferdinand's death ; and the interests
of these establishments being thus closely involved
in the destinies of Spain, it is not wonderful that
the brethren should be a little more knowing in
Spanish affairs than in other branches of history.
Besides, a large proportion of the monks were
natives of the Peninsula : to these, I remember,
Mysseri's familiarity with the Spanish language
and character was a source of immense delight ;
they were always gathering around him, and it
seemed to me that they treasured like gold the few
Castilian words which he deigned to spare them.
The monks do a world of good in their way
The Mo7iks of Palestine. 143
and there can be no doubting that (previously to
the arrival of Bishop Alexander, with his numerous
young family, and his pretty English nursemaids)
they were the chief propagandists of Christianity
in Palestine. My old friends of the Franciscan
couN'ent at Jerusalem, some time since, gave proof
of their goodness by delivering themselves up to
the peril of death for the sake of duty. When I
was their guest they were forty, I believe, in num-
ber ; and I don't recollect that there was one of
them whom I should have looked upon as a desir-
able life-holder of any property to which I might
be entitled in expectancy. Yet these forty were
reduced in a few days to nineteen : the plague
was the messenger that summoned them to taste
of real death, but the circumstances under which
they perished are rather curious ; and though I
have no authority for the story except an Italian
newspaper, I harbour no doubt of its truth, for the
facts were detailed with minuteness, and strictly
corresponded with all that I knew of the poor
fellows to whom they related.
It was about three months after the time of my
leaving Jerusalem that the plague set liis spotted
foot on the Holy City. The monks felt great
alarm : they did not shrink from their duty, but
for its performance they chose a plan most sadly
well fitted for bringing down upon them the very
death which they were striving to ward off. They
1 44 Eothen.
imagined themselves almost safe so long as tliey
remained within their walls ; but then it was quite
needful that the Catholic Christians of the place,
who had always looked to the convent for the sup-
ply of their spiritual wants, should receive the aids
of religion in the hour of death. A single monk,
therefore, was chosen, either by lot or by some
other fair appeal to Destiny : being thus singled
out, he was to go forth into the plague -stricken
city, and to perform with exactness his priestly
duties : then he was to return, not to the interior
of the convent, for fear of infecting his brethren,
but to a detached building (which I remember) be-
longing to the establishment, but at some little dis-
tance from the inhabited rooms. He was provided
with a bell, and at a certain hour in the morning he
was ordered to ring it, if he, could : but if no sound
was heard at the appointed time, then knew his
brethren that he was either delirious or dead, and
another martyr was sent forth to take his place.
In this way twenty-one of the monks were carried
off. One cannot well fail to admire the steadiness
with which the dismal scheme was carried through ;
but if there be any truth in tlie notion that disease
may be invited by a frightening imagination, it is
dijfficult to conceive a more dangerous plan than
that which was chosen by these poor fellows. The
anxiety with which they must liave expected each
day the sound of the bell — the silence that reigned
The Monks of Palestine . 145
instead of it, — and then the drawing of the lots
(the odds against death being one point lower
than yesterday), and the going forth of the newly-
doomed man — all this must have widened the
gulf that opens to the shades below. When his
victim had already suffered so much of mental
torture, it was but easy work for big, bullying
pestilence to follow a forlorn monk from the beds
of the dying, and wrench away his life from him
as he lay all alone in an outhouse.
In most, I believe in all, of the Holy Laud
convents there are two personages so strangely
raised above their brethren in all that dignifies
humanity, that their bearing the same habit, —
their dwelling under the same roof, — their wor-
shipping the same God (consistent as all this is
with the spirit of their religion), yet strikes the
mind with a sense of wondrous incongruity. The
men I speak of are the " Padre Superiore " and
the " Padre Missionario." The former is the su-
preme and absolute governor of the establishment
over which he is appointed to rule ; the latter is
intrusted with the more active of the spiritual
duties attaching to the pilgrim church. He is
the shepherd of the good Catholic flock, whose
pasture is prepared in the midst of Mussulmans
and schismatics — he keeps the light of the true
faith ever vividly before their eyes — reproves their
vices — supports them in their good resolves — con-
K
146 Eothcn.
soles them iu tlieir afflictions, and teaches them to
hate the Greek Church. Such are his labours ;
and you may conceive that great tact must be
needed for conducting with success the spiritual
interests of the Church under circumstances so odd
as those which surround it in Palestine.
But tbe position of the Padre Superiore is still
more delicate : he is almost unceasingly in treaty
with the powers that be, and the worldly pros-
perity of the whole establishment is in great mea-
sure dependent upon the extent of diplomatic skill
which he can employ in its favour. I know not
from what class of churchmen these personages
are chosen, for there is a mystery attending their
origin and the circumstance of their being stationed
in these convents, which Eome does not suffer to
be penetrated. I have heard it said that they are
men of great note, and, perhaps, of too high ambi-
tion in the Catholic hierarchy, who, having fallen
under the grave censure of the Church, are ban-
ished for fixed periods to these distant monasteries.
I believe that the term during which they are con-
demned to remain in the Holy Land is from eight
to twelve years. By the natives of the country,
as well as by the rest of the brethren, they are
looked upon as superior beings ; and rightly too,
for nature seems to have crowned them in her own
true way.
The chief of the Jerusalem convent was a noble
The Mojiks of Palestine. 147
creature ; liis worldly and spiritual authority seemed
to have surrounded him, as it were, with a kind of
" court," and the manly gracefulness of his bearing
did honour to the throne he filled. There were no
lords of the bedchamber, and no gold sticks, and
stones in waiting, yet everybody who approached
him looked as though he were being "presented" —
every interview which he granted wore the air of
an " audience ; " the brethren, as often as they
came near, bowed low, and kissed his hand ; and
if he went out, the Catholics of the place, that
hovered about the convent, would crowd around
him with devout affection, and almost scramble for
the blessing which his touch could give. He bore
his honours all serenely, as though calmly con-
scious of his power to "bind, and to loose."
148
CHAPTER XI.
GALILEE.
Neither old " Sacred " "'^ himself, nor any of his
helpers, knew the road which I meant to take
from Nazareth to the Sea of Galilee, and from
thence to Jerusalem, so I was forced to add an-
other to my party by hiring a guide. The asso-
ciations of Nazareth, as well as my kind feeling
towards the hospitable monks, whose guest I had
been, inclined me to set at nought the advice
which I had received against employing Chris-
tians, I accordingly engaged a lithe, active young
Nazarene, who was recommended to me by the
monks, and who affected to be familiar with the
line of country through which I intended to pass.
My disregard of the popular prejudices against
Christians was not justified in this particular in-
stance by the result of my choice. This you will
see by and by.
I passed by Cana, and the house of the marriage
* Shereef.
Galilee. 1 49
feast prolonged by miraculous wine ; I came to the
field in which our Saviour had rebuked the Scotch
Sabbath -keepers of that period, by suffering his
disciples to pluck corn on the Lord's day ; I rode
over the ground where the fainting multitude had
been fed, and they showed me some massive frag-
ments— the relics (they said) of that wondrous
banquet, now turned into stone. The petrifaction
was most complete.
I ascended the height where our Lord was
standing when He wrought the miracle. The
hill rose lofty enough to show me the fairness
of the land on all sides ; but I have an ancient
love for the mere features of a lake, and so, for-
getting all else when I reached the summit, I
looked away eagerly to the eastward. There she
lay, the Sea of Galilee. Less stern than Wast-
water — less fair than gentle Windermere — she
had still the winning ways of an English lake :
she caught from the smiKng heavens unceasing
light and changeful phases of beauty ; and with
all this brightness on her face, she yet clung
fondly to the dull he -looking mountain at her
side, as though she would
"Soothe him with her finer fancies,
Touch him with her lighter thought." *
If one might judge of men's real thoughts by
* Tennyson.
150 Eotheji.
their writings, it would seem that there are people
who can visit an interesting locality, and follow up
continuously the exact train of thought that ought
to be suggested by the historical associations of the
place. A person of this sort can go to Athens
and think of nothing later than the age of Pericles
— can live with the Scipios as long as he stays
in Ptome. I am not thus docile : it is only by
snatches, and for few moments together, that I can
really associate a place with its proper history.
" There at Tiberias, and along this western shore
towards the north, and upon the bosom too of the
lake, our Saviour and His disciples " Away
flew those recollections, and my mind strained
eastward, because that that farthest shore was
the end of the world that belongs to man the
dweller — tlie beginning of the other and veiled
world that is held by the strange race, whose life
(like the pastime of Satan) is a " going to and fro
upon the face of the earth." From those grey
hills right away to the gates of Bagdad stretched
forth the mysterious " Desert " — not a pale, void,
sandy tract, but a land abounding in rich pastures
— a land without cities or towns, without any
"respectable" people, or any "respectable" things,
yet yielding its eighty thousand cavalry to the
beck of a few old men. But once more — " Tibe-
rias— the plain of Gennesareth — the very earth
on which I stood — that the deep, low tones of the
Galilee. 1 5 1
Saviour's voice should have gone forth into Eter-
nity from out of the midst of these hills and these
valleys ! " — Ay, ay, but yet again the calm face of
the lake was uplifted, and smiled upon my eyes
with such familiar gaze that the "deep low tones"
were hushed — the listening multitudes all passed
away, and instead there came to me a loving
thought from over the seas in England — a thought
more sweet than Gospel to a wilful mortal like
this.
I went to Tiberias, and soon got afloat upon the
water. In the evening I took up my quarters in
the Catholic Church, and, the building being large
enough, the whole of my people were admitted to
the benefit of the same shelter. With portman-
teaus, and carpet-bags, and books, and maps, and
fragrant tea, Mysseri soon made me a home on
the southern side of the church. One of old
Shereef's helpers was an enthusiastic Catholic,
and was greatly delighted at having so sacred a
lodging. He lit up the altar with a number of
tapers, and when his preparations were complete,
he began to perform strange orisons ; his lips
muttered the prayers of the Latin Church, but
he bowed himself down, and laid his forehead to
the stones beneath him, after the manner of a
^lussulman. The universal aptness of a religious
system for all stages of civilisation, and for all
sorts and conditions of men, well befits its claim
152 Eotken.
of divine origin. She is of all nations, and of all
times, that wonderful Church of Eome !
Tiberias is one of the four holy cities/'' accord-
ing to the Talmud ; and ■ it is from this place, or
the immediate neighbourhood of it, that the Mes-
siah is to arise.
Except at Jerusalem, never think of attempting
to sleep in a " holy city." Old Jews from all parts
of the world go to lay their bones upon the sacred
soil ; and since these people never return to their
homes, it follows that any domestic vermin they
may bring with them are likely to become per-
manently resident, so that the population is con-
tinually increasing. No recent census had been
taken when I was at Tiberias ; but I know that
the congregation of fleas which attended at my
church alone must have been something enormous.
It was a carnal, self-seeking congregation, wholly
inattentive to the service which was going on, and
devoted to the one object of having my blood.
The fleas of all nations were there. The smug,
steady, importunate flea from Holywell Street —
the pert, jumping " puce " from hungry France —
the wary, watchful "pulce" with his poisoned
stiletto — the vengeful " pulga " of Castile with
his ugly knife — the German " floh " with his knife
and fork, insatiate, not rising from table — whole
* The other three cities held holy by Jews are Jerusaleiii,
Hebron, and Safet.
Galilee. 1 5 3
swarms from all the Eussias, and Asiatic hordes
unnumbered — all these were there, and all re-
joiced in one great international feast. I could
no more defend myself against my enemies than
if I had been " imin co discretion" in the hands of
a French communist. After passing a night like
this, you are glad to gather up the remains of your
body long, long before morning dawns. Your skin
is scorched — your temples throb — your lips feel
withered and dried — your burning eyeballs are
screwed inwards against the brain. You have no
hope but only in the saddle and the freshness of
the morning air.
154
CHAPTER XIL
MY FIRST BIVOUAC.
The course of the Jordan is from the north to the
south, and in that direction, with very little of
devious winding, it carries the shining waters of
Galilee straight down into the solitudes of the
Dead Sea. Speaking roughly, the river in that
meridian is a boundary between the people living
under roofs and the tented tribes that wander on
the farther side. And so, as I went down in
my way from Tiberias towards Jerusalem, along
the western bank of the stream, my thinking all
propended to the ancient world of herdsmen
and warriors that lay so close over my bridle-
arm.
If a man, and an Englishman, be not born of
his mother with a Chiffney-bit in his mouth, there
comes to him a time for loathing the wearisome
ways of society — a time for not liking tamed
people — a time for not sitting in pews — a time
for impugning the foregone opinions of men, and
My Fii'st Bivouac. r 5 5
haughtily dividing truth from falsehood — a time,
in short, for questioning, scoffing, and railing — for
speaking lightly of the very opera, and all our
most cherislied institutions. It is from nineteen
to two or three and twenty, perhaps, that this war
of the man against men is like to be waged most
sullenly. You are yet in this smiling England,
but you find yourself bending your way to the
dark sides of her mountains, — climbing the dizzy
crags, — exulting in the fellowship of mists and
clouds, and watching the storms how they gather,
or proving the mettle of your mare upon the broad
and dreary downs, because that you feel congeni-
ally with the yet unparcelled earth, A little
while you are free and unlabelled, like the ground
that you compass ; but Civilisation is watching to
throw her lasso ; you will be surely enclosed, and
sooner or later brought down to a state of mere
usefulness — your grey hills will be curiously sliced
into acres, and roods, and perches, and you, for all
you sit so wilful in your saddle, you will be caught
— you will be taken up from travel, as a colt from
grass, to be trained, and tried, and matched, and
run. This in time ; but first come Continental
tours, and the moody longing for Eastern travel :
the downs and the moors of England can hold you
no longer ; with larger stride you burst away from
these slips and patches of free land — you thread
your path through the crowds of Europe, and at
156 Eothen.
last, on the banks of Jordan, you joyfully know
that you are upon the very frontier of all accus-
tomed respectabilities. There, on the other side of
the river (you can swim it with one arm), there
reigns the people that will be like to put you to
death for not being a vagrant, for not being a
robber, for not being armed and houseless. There
is comfort in that — health, comfort, and strength
to one who is aching from very weariness of that
poor, dear, middle-aged, deserving, accomplished,
pedantic, and pains-taking governess, Europe.
I had ridden for some hours along the right
bank of Jordan, when I came to the Djesr el
Medjam^ (an old Eoman bridge, I believe) which
crossed the river. My Nazarene guide was riding
ahead of the party ; and now, to my surprise and
delight, he turned leftwards and led on over the
bridge. I knew that the true road to Jerusalem
must be mainly by the right bank of Jordan ; but
I supposed that my guide was crossing the bridge
at this spot in order to avoid some bend in the
river, and that he knew of a ford lower down by
which we should regain the western bank. I made
no question about the road, for I was but too glad
to set my horse's hoofs upon the land of the
wandering tribes. None of my people, except the
Nazarene, knew the country. On we went through
rich pastures upon the eastern side of the water.
I looked for the expected bend of the river, but,.
ATy First Bivotiac. i 5 7
far as I could see, it kept a straight southerly
course. I still left my guide unquestioned.
The Jordan is not a perfectly accurate boundary
betwixt roofs and tents ; for, soon after passing the
bridge, I came upon a cluster of huts. Some time
afterwards, the guide, upon being closely ques-
tioned by my servants, confessed that the village
which we had left behind was the last tliat we
should see, but he declared tliat he knew a spot at
which we should find an encampment of friendly
Bedouins, who would receive me with all hospi-
tality. I had long determined not to leave the
East without seeing something of the wandering
tribes, but I had looked forward to this as a plea-
sure to be found in the Desert between El Arish
and Egypt — I had no idea that the Bedouins on
the east of Jordan were accessible. ]\Iy delight
was so great at the near prospect of bread and
salt in the tent of an Arab warrior, that I wilfully
allowed my guide to go on and mislead me. I
saw that he was taking me out of the straight
route towards Jerusalem, and was drawing me
into the midst of the Bedouins, but the idea of his
betraying me seemed (I know not why) so utterly
absurd that I could not entertain it for a moment.
I fanced it possible that the fellow had taken me
out of my route in order to attempt some little
mercantile enterprise with the tribe for which he
was seeking, and I was glad of the opportunity
158 EotJien.
which I might thus gain of coming in contact with
the wanderers.
ISTot long after passing the village a horseman
met us. It appeared that some of the cavalry of
Ibrahim Pasha had crossed the river for the sake
of the rich pastures on the eastern bank, and that
this man was one of the troopers. He stopped,
"and saluted. He was obviously surprised at meet-
ing an unarmed, or half-armed, cavalcade, and at
last he fairly told us that we were on the wrong
side of the river, and that, if we went on, we must
lay our account with falling amongst robbers. All
this while, and throughout the day, my Nazarene
kept well a-head of the party, and was constantly
up in his stirrups, straining forward, and searching
the distance for some objects which still remained
unseen.
For the rest of che day we saw no human be-
ing ; we pushed on eagerly in the hope of coming
up with the Bedouins before nightfall. Night
came, and we still went on in our way till about
ten o'clock. Then the thorough darkness of the
night, and the weariness of our beasts (they had
already done two good days' journey in one),
forced us to determine upon coming to a stand-
still. Upon the heights to the eastward we saw
lights ; tliese shone from caves on the mountain-
side, inhabited, as the Nazarene told us, by rascals
of a low sort — not real Bedouins — men whom we
My First Bivouac. 159
might frighten into harmlessness, but from whom
there was no willing hospitality to be expected.
We heard at a little distance the brawling of a
rivulet, and on the banks of this it was determined
to establish our bivouac ; we soon found the stream,
and following its course for a few yards came to a
spot which was thought to be fit for our purpose.
It was a sharply cold night in February, and when
I dismounted, I found myseK standing upon some
wet, rank herbage that promised ill for the comfort
of our resting-place. I had bad hopes of a fire,
for the pitchy darkness of the night was a great
obstacle to any successful search for fuel, and be-
sides, the boughs of trees or bushes would be so
full of sap, in this early spring, that they would
not easily burn. However, we were not likely to
submit to a dark and cold bivouac without an
effort, and my fellows groped forward through the
darkness till, after advancing a few paces, they
were happily stopped by a complete barrier of dead
prickly bushes. Before our swords could be drawn
to reap this welcome harvest, it was found to our sur-
prise that the fuel was already hewn, and strewed
along the ground in a thick mass. A spot for
the fire was found with some difficulty, for the
earth was moist, and the grass high and rank. At
last there was a clicking of flint and steel, and
presently there stood out from darkness one of the
tawny faces of my muleteers, bent down to near
1 60 Eothen.
the ground, and suddenly lit up by the glowing
of the spark, which he courted with careful breath.
Before long, there was a particle of dry fibre or leaf
that kindled to a tiny flame ; then another was
lit from that, and then another. Then small, crisp
twigs, little bigger than bodkins, were laid athwart
the glowing fire. The swelling cheeks of the
muleteer, laid level with the earth, blew tenderly
at first, then more boldly, and the young flame
was daintily nursed and fed, and fed more plenti-
fully till it gained good strength. At last a whole
armful of dr}'" bushes was piled up over the fire,
and presently, with a loud, cheery cracking and
crackling, a royal tall blaze shot up from the earth,
and showed me once more the shapes and faces of
my men, and the dim outlines of the horses and
mules that stood grazing hard by.
My servants busied themselves in unpacking the
baggage, as though we had arrived at an hotel —
Shereef and his helpers unsaddled their cattle. We
had left Tiberias without the slightest idea that we
were to make our way to Jerusalem along the deso-
late side of the Jordan, and my servants (generally
provident in those matters) had brought with them
only, I think, some unleavened bread, and a rocky
fragment of goat's-milk cheese. These treasures
were produced. Tea, and tlie contrivances for
making it, were always a standing part of my bag-
gage. My men gathered in circle round the fire.
]\Iy Firsl Bivouac. 1 6 1
The Nazarene was iu a false position, from having
misled us so strangely, and he would have shrunk
back, poor devil, into the cold and outer darkness,
but I made him draw near, and share the luxuries
of the night. My quilt and my pelisse were spread,
and the rest of my people had all their cajpotes or
pelisses, or robes of some sort, which furnished
their couches. The men gathered in circle, some
kneeling, some sitting, some lying reclined around
our common hearth. Sometimes on one, sometimes
on another, the flickering light would glare more
fiercely. Sometimes it was tlie good Shereef that
seemed the foremost, as he sat with venerable beard,
the image of manly piety — unknowing of all geo-
graphy, unknowing where he was, or whither he
might go, but trusting in the goodness of God, and
the clenching power of fate, and the good star of
the Englishman. Sometimes, like marble, the classic
face of the Greek Mysseri would catch the sudden
light, and then again, by turns, the ever-perturbed
Dthemetri, with his odd Chinaman's eye, and brist-
ling, terrier-like moustache, shone forth illustrious.
I always liked the men who attended me on
these Eastern travels, for they were all of them
brave, cheery-hearted fellows, and, although their
following my career brought upon them a pretty
large share of those toils and hardships which are
so much more amusing to gentlemen than to ser-
vants, yet not one of them ever uttered or hinted
i62 Eothen.
a syllable of complaint, or even affected to put on
an air of resignation. I always liked them, but
never perhaps so muph as when they were thus
grouped together under the light of the bivouac
fire. I felt towards them as my comrades, rather
than as my servants, and took delight in breaking
bread with them, and merrily passing the cup.
The love of tea is a glad source of feUow-feeling
between the Englishman and the Asiatic ; in Per-
sia it is drunk by aU, and although it is a luxury
that is rarely within the reach of the Osmanlees,
there are few of them who do not know and love
the blessed tchai. Our camp-kettle, filled from the
brook, hummed doubtfully for a while, then busily
bubbled under the sidelong glare of the flames — cups
clinked and rattled — the fragrant steam ascended ;
and soon this little circlet in the wilderness grew
warm and genial as my lady's drawing-room.
And after this there came the tchibouque — great
comforter of those that are hungry and way-worn.
And it has this virtue — it helps to destroy the
gene and awkwardness which one sometimes feels
at being in company with one's dependants : for,
whilst the amber is at your lips, there is nothing
ungracious in your remaining silent, or speaking
pithily in short inter- whiff sentences. And for us
that night there was pleasant and plentiful matter
of talk ; for the where we should be on the morrow,
and the wlierewithal we should be fed, — whether
My First Bivouac. i6
o
by some ford we should regain the westom bank
of Jordan, or find bread and salt under the tents
of a wandering tribe, or whether we should fall
into the hands of the Pliilistines, and so come to
. see Death — the last, and greatest of all " the fine
sights " that there be, — these were questionings not
dull nor wearisome to us, for we were all concerned
in the answers. And it was not an all-imagined
morrow that we probed with our sharp guesses ;
for the lights of those low Philistines — the men of
the caves — still shone on the rock above, and we
knew by their yells that the fire of our bivouac
had shown us.
At length we thought it well to seek for sleep.
Our plans were laid for keeping up a good watch
through the night. My quHt, and my pelisse, and
my cloak were spread out so that I might lie spoke-
wise, with my feet towards the central fire. I
wrapped my limbs daintily round, and gave my-
self orders to sleep like a veteran soldier. But my
attempt to sleep upon the earth that God gave me
was more new and strange than I had fancied it.
I had grown used to the scene which was before
me whilst I was sitting or reclining by the side
of the fire ; but now that I laid myself down at
full length, it was the deep black mystery of the
heavens that hung over my eyes — not an earthly
thing in the way from my own very forehead right
up to the end of all space. I grew proud of .my
1 64 Eothen.
boundless bed - chamber. I might have " found
sermons " in all this greatness (if I had I should
surely have slept), but such was not then my way.
If this cherished Self of mine had built the uni-
verse, I should have dwelt with delight on " the
wonders of creation." As it was, I felt rather
the vainglory of my promotion, from out of mere
rooms and houses, into the midst of that grand,
dark, infinite palace.
And then, too, my head, far from the fire, was
in cold latitudes, and it seemed to me strange that
I should be lying so still and passive, whilst the
sharp night-breeze walked free over my cheek, and
the cold damp clung to my hair, as though my
face grew in the earth, and must bear with the
footsteps of the wind and the falling of the dew,
as meekly as the grass of the field. And so, when,
from time to time, the watch quietly and gently
kept up the languishing fire, he seldom, I think,
was unseen to my restless eyes. Yet, at last,
when they called me, and said that the morn
would soon be dawning, I rose from a state of
half - oblivion, not much unlike to sleep, though
sharply qualified by a sort of vegetable's consci-
ousness of having been growing still colder and
colder for many and many an hour.
165
CHAPTER XIII.
THE DEAD SEA.
The grey light of the morning showed us, for the
first time, the ground we had chosen for our rest-
ing-place. We found that we had bivouacked
upon a little patch of barley, plainly belonging to
the men of the caves. The dead bushes which we
found so happily placed in readiness for our fire,
had been strewn as a fence for the protection of
the little crop. This was the only cultivated spot
of ground which we had seen for many a league,
and I was rather sorry to find that our night-fire,
and our cattle, had spread so much ruin upon this
poor solitary slip of corn-land.
The saddling and loading of our beasts was a
work which generally took nearly an hour, and be-
fore this was haK over, daylight came. We could
now see the men of the caves. They collected in
a body, amounting, I thought, to nearly fifty, and
rushed down towards our quarters with iierce shouts
and yells. But the nearer they got the slower they
1 66 Eotheii.
went ; their shouts grew less resolute in tone, and
soon ceased altogether. The fellows, however, ad-
vanced to a thicket within thirty yards of us, and
behind this "took up their position." j\Iy men with-
out premeditation did exactly that which was best :
they kept steadily to their work of loading the
beasts, without fuss or hurry ; and, whether it was
that they instinctively felt the wisdom of keeping
quiet, or that they merely obeyed the natural in-
clination to silence, which one feels in the early
morning, I cannot tell, but I know that, except
when they exchanged a syllable or two relative to
the work they were about, not a word was said. I
now believe that this quietness of our party cre-
ated an undefined terror in the minds of the cave-
holders, and scared them from coming on : it gave
them a notion that we were relying on some re-
sources which they knew not of Several times
the fellows tried to lash themseh^es into a state of
excitement which might do instead of pluck. They
would raise a great shout, and sway forward in a
dense body from behind the thicket ; but when
they saw that their bravery^ thus gathered to a
head, did not even suspend the strapping of a port-
manteau, or the tying of a hat-box, their shout lost
its spirit, and the whole mass was irresistibly drawn
back, like a wave receding from the shore.
These attempts at an onset were repeated sev-
eral times, but always with the same result. I
The Dead Sea. 1 6 7
remained under the apprehension of an attack for
more than half an hour, and it seemed to me that
the work of packing and loading had never been
done so slowly. I felt inclined to tell my fellows
to make their best speed, but, just as I was going
to speak, I observed that every one was doing his
duty already ; I therefore held my peace, and said
not a word, till at last Mysseri led up my horse.
and asked me if I were ready to mount.
We all marched off without hindrance.
After some time, we came across a party of
Ibrahim's cavalry, which had bivouacked at no
great distance from us. The knowledge that such
a force was in the neighbourhood may have con-
duced to the forbearance of the cave-holders.
We saw a scraggy -looking fellow, nearly black,
and wearing nothing but a cloth round the loins:
he was tending flocks. Afterwards I came up with
another of these goatherds, whose helpmate was
with him. They gave us some goat's milk, a wel-
come present. I pitied the poor devil of a goat-
herd for having such a very plain wife. I spend
an enormous quantity of pity upon that particular
form of human misery.
About mid-day I began to examine my map,
and to question my guide. He at first tried to
elude inquiry, then suddenly fell on his knees, and
confessed that he knew nothing of the country. I
was thus thrown upon my own resources, and cal-
1 68 EotJien.
culating that, on the preceding day, we had nearly
performed a two days' journey, I concluded that
the Dead Sea must be near. In this I was right ;
for at about three or four o'clock in the afternoon
I caught a first sight of its dismal face.
I went on, and came near to those waters of
Death ; they stretched deeply into the southern
desert, and before me, and all around, as far away
as the eye could follow, blank hills piled high
over hills, pale, yellow, and naked, walled up in
her tomb for ever the dead and damned Gomorrah.
There was no fly that hummed in the forbidden
air, but, instead, a deep stillness — no grass grew
from the earth — no weed peered through the void
sand ; but, in mockery of all life, there were trees
borne down by Jordan in some ancient flood, and
these, grotesquely planted upon the forlorn shore,
spread out their grim skeleton arms all scorched,
and charred to blackness, by the heats of the long,
silent years.
I now struck off towards the debouchure of the
river ; but I found that the country, though seem-
ingly quite flat, was intersected by deep ravines,
which did not show themselves until nearly ap-
proached. For some time my progress was much
obstructed ; but at last I came across a track lead-
ing towards the river, and which might, as I hoped,
bring me to a ford. I found, in fact, when I came
to the river's side, that the track reappeared upon
The Dead Sea. 1 69
the opposite bank, plainly showing that the stream
had been fordable at this place. Now, however, in
consequence of the late rains, the river was quite im-
practicable for baggage-horses. A body of waters,
about equal to the Thames at Eton, but confined
to a narrower channel, poured down in a current
so swift and heavy, that the idea of passing with
laden baggage - horses was utterly forbidden. I
could have swum across myself, and I might, per-
haps, have succeeded in swimming a horse over.
But this would have been useless, because in such
case I must have abandoned not only my baggage,
but all my attendants, for none of them were able
to swim, and, without that resource, it would have
been madness for them to rely upon the swimming
of their beasts across such a powerful stream. I
still hoped, however, that there might be a chance
of passing the river at the point of its actual junc-
tion with the Dead Sea, and I therefore went on
in that direction.
Night came upon us whilst labouring across
gullies and sandy mounds, and we were obliged
to come to a stand-still, quite suddenly, upon the
very edge of a precipitous descent. Every step
towards the Dead Sea had brought us into a
country more and more dreary ; and this sand-
hill, which we were forced to choose for our rest-
ing - place, was dismal enough. A few slender
blades of grass, which here and there singly pierced
170
Eothen.
the sand, mocked bitterly the hunger of our jaded
beasts, and, with our small remaining fragment of
goat's-milk rock by way of supper, we were not
much better off than our horses ; we wanted, too,
the great requisite of a cheery bivouac — fire. More-
over, the spot on which we had been so suddenly
brought to a stand-stiU was relatively high, and
unsheltered, and the night wind blew swiftly and
cold.
The next morning I reached the debouchure of
the Jordan, where I had hoped to find a bar of
sand that might render its passage possible. The
river, however, rolled its eddying waters fast down
to the "sea," in a strong, deep stream that shut out
all hope of crossing.
It now seemed necessary either to construct a
raft of some kind, or else to retrace my steps, and
remount the banks of the Jordan. I had once
happened to give some attention to the subject
of military bridges — a branch of military science
which includes the construction of rafts and con-
trivances of the like sort — and I should have been
very proud, indeed, if I could have carried my
people and my baggage across by dint of any idea
gathered from Sir Howard Douglas or Eobinson
Crusoe. But we were all faint and languid from
want of food, and besides, there were no materials.
Hio'her up the river there were bushes and river-
plants, but nothing like timber ; and the cord with
The Dead Sea. 1 7 1
which my baggage was tied to the pack-saddles
amounted altogether to a very small quantity —
not nearly enough to haul any sort of craft across
the stream.
kvA now it was, if I remember "rightly, that
Dthemetri submitted to me a plan for putting to
death the Nazarene, whose misguidance had been
the cause of our difficulties. There was something
fascinating in this suggestion ; for the slaying of
the guide was, of course, easy enough, and would
look like an act of what politicians call " vigour."
If it were only to become known to my friends in
England that I had calmly killed a fellow-creature
for taking me out of my way, I might remain
perfectly quiet and tranquil for all the rest of my
days, quite free from the danger of being considered
" slow ; " I might ever after live on upon my re-
putation, like " single-speech Hamilton " in the last
century, or " single-sin " in this, without being
obliged to take the trouble of doing any more harm
in the world. This was a great temptation to an
indolent person ; but the motive was not strength-
ened by any sincere feeling of anger with the Naz-
arene. Whilst the question of his life and death
was debated, he was riding in front of our
party, and there was something in the anxious
\\Tithing of his supple limbs that seemed to ex-
press a sense of his false position, and struck me
a,s highly comic. I had no crotchet at that time
172 Eothen.
against the punishment of death, but I was un-
used to blood, and the proposed victim looked so
thoroughly capable of enjoying life (if he could
only get to the other side of the river), that I
thought it would be hard for him to die, merely in
order to give me a character for energy. Acting
on the result of these considerations, and reserving
to myself a free and unfettered discretion to have
the poor villain shot at any future moment, I mag-
nanimously decided that, for the present, he should
live, and not die.
I bathed in the Dead Sea. The ground covered
by the water sloped so gradually that I was not
only forced to " sneak in," but to walk through the
water nearly a quarter of a mile before I could get
out of my depth. "When at last I was able to
attempt to dive, the salts held in solution made
my eyes smart so sharply that the pain I thus
suffered, joined with the weakness occasioned by
want of food, made me giddy and faint for some
moments ; but I soon grew better. I knew before-
hand the impossibility of sinking in this buoyant
water ; but I was surprised to find that I could
not swim at my accustomed pace : my legs and
feet were lifted so high and dry out of the lake
that my stroke was baffled, and I found myself
kicking against the thin air, instead of the dense
fluid upon which I was swimming. The water
is perfectly bright and clear ; its taste detestable.
The Dead Sea. 173
After finishing my attempts at swimming and
diving, I took some time in regaining the shore ;
and, before I began to dress, I found that the sun
had already evaporated the water which clung to
me, and that my skin was thickly incrusted with
salts.
174
CHAPTER XIV.
THE BLACK TENTS.
My steps were reluctantly turned towards the north.
I had ridden some way, and still it seemed that
all life was fenced and harred out from the deso-
late ground over which I was journeying. On the
west there flowed the impassable Jordan ; on the
east stood an endless range of barren mountains ;
and on the south lay that desert sea that knew
not the plashing of an oar : greatly, therefore, was
I surprised, when suddenly there broke upon my
ear the long, ludicrous, persevering bray of a don-
key. I was riding at this time some few hundred
yards ahead of all my party, except the Nazarene
(who, by a wise instinct, kept closer to me than to
Dthemetri), and I instantly went forward in the
direction of the sound, for I fanced that where
there were donkeys, there too most surely would
be men. The ground on all sides of me seemed
thorouglily void and lifeless, but at last I got
down into a hollow, and presently a sudden turn
The Black Tenis. i 75
brought me within thirty yards of an Arab en-
campment. The low black tents which I had so
long lusted to see were right before me, and they
were all teeming with live Arabs — men, women,
and children.
I wished to have let my people behind know
where I was, but I recollected that they would be
able to trace me by the prints of my horse's hoofs
in the sand, and, having to do with Asiatics, I felt
the danger of the slightest movement which might
be looked upon as a sign of irresolution. There-
fore, \vithout looking behind me — without looking
to the right or to the left, I rode straight up
towards the foremost tent. Before it was strewed
a semicircular fence of dead boughs ; through this,
and about opposite to the front of the tent, there
was a narrow opening. As I advanced, some
twenty or thirty of the most uncouth - looking
fellows imaginable came forward to meet me. In
their appearance they showed nothing of the Be-
douin blood ; they were of many colours, from
dingy brown to jet black, and some of these last
had much of the negro look about them. They
were tall, powerful fellows, but repulsively ugly.
They wore nothing but the Arab shirts, confined
at the waist by leather belts.
I advanced to the gap left in the fence, and at
once alighted from my horse. The chief greeted
me after his fashion by alternately touching first
1 76 Eothen.
my hand and then his own forehead, as if he were
conveying the virtue of the touch like a spark of
electricity. Presently I found myself seated upon
a sheepskin spread for me under the sacred shade
of Arabian canvas. The tent was of a long, nar-
row, oblong form, and contained a quantity of
men, women, and children, so closely huddled to-
gether that there was scarcely one of them who
was not in actual contact with his neighbour. The
moment I had taken my seat, the chief repeated
his salutations in the most enthusiastic manner,
and then the people having gathered densely about
me, got hold of my unresisting hand, and passed it
round like a claret -jug for the benefit of every-
body. The women soon brought me a wooden
bowl full of buttermilk, and welcome indeed came
the gift to my hungry and thirsty soul.
After some time, my people, as I had expected,
came up ; and when poor Dthemetri saw me on
my sheepskin, " the life and soul " of this raga-
muffin party, he was so astounded that he even
failed to check his cry of horror; he plainly
thought that now, at last, the Lord had delivered
me (interpreter and all) into the hands of the
lowest Philistines.
Mysseri carried a tobacco-pouch slung at his
belt, and as soon as its contents were known, the
whole population of the tent began begging like
spaniels for bits of the beloved weed. I concluded.
The Black Tents. 177
from tlie abject manner of these people, that they
could not possibly be thorough-bred Bedouins ; and
I saw, too, that they must be in the very last stage
of misery, for poor indeed is the man in these
climes who cannot command a pipeful of tobacco.
I began to think that I had fallen amongst thorough
savages, and it seemed likely enough that they
would gain their very first knowledge of civilisa-
tion by seizing and studying the contents of my
dearest portmanteaus, but still my impression was
that they would hardly venture upon such an
attempt. I observed, indeed, that they did not
offer me the bread and salt (the pledges of peace
amongst wandering tribes), but I fancied that they
refrained from this act of hospitality, not in conse-
quence of any hostile determination, but in order
that the notion of robbing me might remain for
the present an " open question." 1 afterwards
found that the poor fellows had no bread to offer.
They were literally " out at grass." It is true that
they had a scanty supply of milk from goats, but
they were living almost entirely upon certain grass
stems which were just in season at that time of
the year. These, if not highly nourishing, are
pleasant enough to the taste, and their acid juices
come gratefully to thirsty lips.
M
178
CHAPTER XV.
PASSAGE OF THE JOEDAN.
And now Dthemetri began to enter into a negotia-
tion with my hosts for a passage over the river.
I never interfered with my worthy dragoman upon
these occasions, because from my entire ignorance
of the Arabic, I should have been quite unable to
exercise any real control over his words, and it
would have been silly to break the stream of his
eloquence to no purpose. I have reason to fear,
however, that he lied transcendently, and especi-
ally in representing me as the bosom friend of
Ibrahim Pasha. The mention of that name pro-
duced immense agitation and excitement, and the
sheik explained to Dthemetri the grounds of the
infinite respect which he and his tribe entertained
for the Pasha. Only a few weeks before, Ibrahim
had craftily sent a body of troops across the Jor-
dan. The force went warily round to the foot of
the mountains on the east, so as to cut off the
retreat of this tribe, and then surrounded them as
Passage of the Jordan. i 79
they lay encamped in the vale ; their camels, and
indeed all their possessions worth taking, were
carried off by the soldiery, and moreover, the then
sheik, together with every tenth man of the tribe,
was brought out and shot. You would think that
this conduct on the part of tlie Pasha might not
procure for his " friend " a very gracious reception
amongst the people whom he had thus despoiled
and decimated , but the Asiatic seems to be ani-
mated with a feeling of profound respect, almost
bordering upon affection, for those who have done
him any bold and violent wrong ; and there is
always, too, so much of vague and undefined ap-
prehension mixed up with his really well-founded
alarms, that I can see no limit to the yielding and
bending of his mind when it is worked upon by
the idea of power.
After some discussion the Arabs agreed, as I
thought, to conduct me to a ford, and we moved
on towards the river, followed by seventeen of the
most able-bodied of the tribe under the guidance
of several grey-bearded elders, and Sheik Ali Djour-
ban at the head of the whole detachment. Upon
leaving the encampment a sort of ceremony was
performed, for the purpose, it seemed, of insuring,
if possible, a happy result for the undertaking.
There was an uplifting of arms, and a repeating of
words, that sounded like formulae, l)ut there were
no prostrations, and I did not understand that the
1 80 Eothen.
ceremony was of a religious character. The tented
Arabs are looked upon as very bad Mahometans.
We arrived upon the banks of the river — not at
a ford, but at a deep and rapid part of the stream ;
and I now understood that it was the plan of these
men, if they helped me at all, to transport me
across the river by some species of raft. But a
reaction had taken place in the opinions of many,
and a violent dispute arose, upon a motion which
seemed to have been made by some honourable
member, with a view to robbery. The fellows
all gathered together in circle at a little distance
from my party, and there disputed with great
vehemence and fury for nearly two hours. I can't
give a correct report of the debate, for it was held
in a barbarous dialect of the Arabic unknown to
my dragoman. I recollect I sincerely felt at the
time, that the arguments in favour of robbing me
must have been almost unanswerable, and I gave
great credit to the speakers on my side for the in-
genuity and sophistry which they must have shown
in maintaining the fight so well.
During the discussion I remained lying in front
of my baggage, for this had been already taken
from the pack-saddles, and placed upon the ground.
I was so languid from want of food that I had
scarcely animation enough to feel as deeply inter-
ested as you would suppose in the result of the
discussion. T thought, however, that the pleasant-
Passage of the Jordan. 1 8 1
est toys to play with during this interval were my
pistols, and now and then, when I listlessly visited
my loaded barrels with the swivel ramrods, or
drew a sweet musical click from my English fire-
locks, it seemed to me that I exercised a slight
and gentle influence on the debate. Thanks to
Ibrahim Pasha's terrible visitation, the men of the
tribe were wholly unarmed, and my advantage in
this respect might have counterbalanced in some
measure the superiority of numbers.
Mysseri (not interpreting in Arabic) had no duty
to perform, and he seemed to be faint and listless
as myself. Shereef looked perfectly resigned to
any fate. But Dthemetri (faithful terrier !) was
bristling with zeal and watchfulness : he could not
understand the debate, for it was carried on at a
distance too great to be easily heard, even if the
language had been familiar; but he was always on
the alert, and now and then conferring with men
who had straggled out of the assembly. At last
he found an opportunity of making an offer which
at once produced immense sensation ; he proposed
on my belialf that the tribe should bear themselves
loyally towards me, and take my people and m>-
baggage in safety to the other bank of the river,
and that I on my part should give such a teskeri,
or written certificate of their good conduct, as
might avail them hereafter in the hour of their
direst need. This proposal was received and in-
1 82 Eothen.
stantly accepted by all tlie men of the trilje there
present with the utmost enthusiasm. 1 was to
give the men too' a haksheish — that is, a present
of money usually made upon the conclusion of any
sort of treaty — but, although the people of the tribe
were so miserably poor, they seemed to look upon
the pecuniary part of the arrangement as a matter
quite trivial in comparison with the teskeri. In-
deed the sum which Dthemetri promised them
was extremely small, and no attempt was made
to extort any further reward.
The council broke up, and most of the men
rushed madly towards me, overwhelming me with
vehement gratulations, and kissing my hands and
my boots.
The Arabs then earnestly began their attempt to
effect the passage of the river. They had brought
with them a great number of skins used for carrying
water in the desert ; these they j&lled with air, and
fastened several of them to small boughs cut from
the banks of the river. In this way they constructed
a raft not more than about four or five feet square,
but rendered buoyant by the inflated skins. Upon
this a portion of my baggage was placed, and was
firmly tied to it by the cords used on my pack-
saddles. The little raft, with its weighty cargo,
was then gently lifted into the water, and I had
the satisfaction to see that it floated weU.
Twelve of the Arabs now stripped, and tied in-
Passage of the Jordan. 183
flated skins to their loins. Six of the men went down
into the river, got in front of the little raft, and
pulled it off a few feet from the bank. The other
six then dashed into the stream with loud shouts,
and swam along after the raft, pushing it from
behind. Off went the craft in capital style at first,
for the stream was easy on the eastern side, but I
saw that the tug was to come, for the main torrent
swept round in a bend near the western bank of
the river.
The old men, with their long grey grisly beards,
stood shouting and cheering, praying and command-
ing. At length the raft entered upon the difficult
part of its course ; the whirling stream seized and
twisted it about, and then bore it rapidly down-
wards ; the swimmers flagged and seemed to be
beaten in the struggle. But now the old men on
the bank, with their rigid arms uplifted straight,
sent forth a cry and a shout that tore the wide air,
and then, to make their urging yet more strong,
they shrieked out the dreadful syllables " 'brahim
Pasha!" The swimmers, one moment before so
blown and so weary, found lungs to answer the cry,
and shouted back the name of their great destroyer ;
they dashed on through the torrent, and bore the
raft in safety to the western bank.
Afterwards the swimmers returned with the raft,
and attached to it the rest of my baggage. I
took my seat upon the top of the cargo, and the
1 84 Eothen.
raft thus laden passed the river in the same way
and \Wth the same struggle as before. The skins,
however, not being perfectly air-tight, had lost a
great part of their buoyancy, so that I, as well as
the luggage that passed on this last voyage, got
wet in the waters of Jordan. The raft could not
be trusted for another trip, and the rest of my
people passed the river in a different, and (for
them) much safer way. Inflated skins were fast-
ened to their loins, and thus supported, they were
tugged across by Arabs swimming on either side of
them. The horses and mules were thrown into the
water, and forced to swim over. The poor beasts
had a hard struggle for their lives in that swift
stream, and I thought that one of the horses would
have been drowned, for he was too weak to gain a
footing on the western bank, and the stream bore
him down. At last, however, he swam back to
the side from which he had come. Before night
all had passed the river excej)t this one horse and
old Shereef. He, poor fellow, was shivering on the
eastern bank, for his dread of the passage was so
great, that he delayed it as long as he could, and
at last it became so dark, that he was obliged to
wait till the morning.
I lay that night on the bank of the river. The
Arabs at a little distance from me contrived to
kindle a fire, and sat all around in a circle. They
Passage of the Jordan. 1S5
were made most savagely happy by the tobacco
with which I supplied them, and they soon deter-
mined that the whole night should be one smoking
festival. The poor fellows had only a cracked
bowl without any tube at all, but tliis morsel of a
pipe they handed round from one to the other,
allowing to each a fixed number of whiffs. In
that way they passed the whole night.
The next morning old Shereef was brought
across. It was strange to see this solemn old
Mussulman, with his shaven head and his sacred
beard, sprawling and puffing upon the surface of
the water. When at last he reached the bank, the
people told him that by his baptism in Jordan he
had surely become a mere Christian. Poor Shereef !
the holy man ! the descendant of the Prophet ! —
he was sadly hurt by the taunt, and the more so
as he seemed to feel that there was some founda-
tion for it, and that he really might have absorbed
some Christian errors.
When all was ready for departure, I wrote the
teskeri in French, and delivered it to Sheik Ali
Djourban, together with the promised haksheish.
He was exceedingly grateful, and I parted in a very
friendly way from this ragged tribe.
In two or three hours I gained Eihah, a village
said to occupy the site of ancient Jericho. There
was one building there which I observed with
1 86 Eothen.
some emotion, for although it may not have been
actually standing in the days of Jericho, it con-
tained at this day a most interesting collection of
— modern loaves.
Some hours after sunset I reached the convent
of Santa Saha, and there remained for the night.
i87
CHA.PTER XVI.
TERRA SANTA.
The enthusiasm that had glowed, or seemed to
glow, within me, for one blessed moment, when I
knelt by the shrine of the Virgin at Nazareth, was
not rekindled at Jerusalem. In the stead of the
solemn gloom and the deep stillness rightfully
belonging to the Holy City, there was the hum and
the bustle of active life. It was the " height of
the season." The Easter ceremonies drew near ;
the pilgrims were Hocking in from all quarters,
and although their objects were partly at least of
a religious character, yet their " arrivals " brought
as much stir and liveliness to the city as if they
had come up to marry their daughters.
The votaries who every year crowd to the Holy
Sepulchre are chiefly of the Greek and Armenian
Churches. They are not drawn into Palestine by
a mere sentimental longing to stand upon the
ground trodden by our Saviour, but rather they
perform the pilgrimage as a plain duty strongly in-
1 88 Eothen.
culcated by their religion. A very greal proportion
of those who belong to the Greek Church contrive at
some time or other in the course of their lives to
achieve the enterprise. Many in their infancy and
childliood are brought to the holy sites by their
parents, but those who have not had this advantage
will often make it the main object of their live^
to save money enough for this holy undertaldng.
The pilgrims begin to arrive in Palestine some
weeks before the Easter festival of the Greek
Church. They come from Egypt, from all parts
of Syria, from Armenia and Asia Minor, from
Stamboul, from Eoumelia, from the provinces of
the Danube, and from all the Eussias. Most of
these people bring with them some articles of mer-
chandise, but I myself believe (notwithstanding
the common taunt against pilgrims) that they do
this rather as a mode of paying the expenses of
their journey, than from a spirit of mercenary
speculation. They generally travel in families,
for the women are of course more ardent than
their husbands in undertaking these pious enter-
prises, and they take care to bring with them all
their children, however young. They do this be-
cause the efficacy of the rites is quite independent
of the age of the votary, and people whose careful
mothers have obtained for them the benefit of tlie
pilgrimage in early life, are saved from the expense
and trouble of undertaking the journey at a later age.
Tcrj'a Santa. 189
The superior veneration so often excited by
objects that are distant and unknown, shows —
not perhaps the wrong-headedness of a man, but
rather the transcendent power of his imagination.
However this may be, and whether it is by mere
obstinacy that they force their way through inter-
vening distance, or whether they come by the
winged strength of fancy, quite certainly the
pilgrims who flock to Palestine from remote
homes are the people most eager in the enter-
prise, and in number, too, they bear a very high
proportion to the whole mass.
The great bulk of the pilgrims make their way
by sea to the port of Jaffa. A number of families
will charter a vessel amongst them, all bringing
their own provisions : these are of the simplest
and cheapest kind. On board every vessel thus
freighted, there is, I believe, a priest, who helps
the people in their religious exercises, and tries
(and fails) to maintain something like order and
harmony. The vessels employed in the ser-
vice are usually Greek brigs or brigantines, and
schooners, and the number of passengers stowed
in them is almost always horribly excessive. The
voyages are sadly protracted, not only by the land-
seeking, storm-flying habits of the Greek seamen,
but also by the endless schemes and speculations,
for ever tempting them to touch at the nearest
port. The voyage, too, must be made during
1 90 Eothen.
winter, in order that Jerusalem may be reached
some weeks before, the Greek Easter.
When the pilgrims have landed at Jaffa, they
hire camels, horses, mules, or donkeys, and make
their way as well as they can to the Holy
City. The space fronting the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre soon becomes a kind of bazaar,
or rather perhaps reminds you of an English fair.
On this spot the pilgrims display their merchan-
dise ; and there, too, the trading residents of the
place offer their goods for sale. I have never,
I think, seen elsewhere in Asia so much com-
mercial animation as upon this square of ground
by the church door : the " money - changers "
seemed to be almost as brisk and lively as if
they had been within the temple.
"V\1ien I entered the church, I found a Babel
of worsliippers. Greek, Eoman, and Armenian
priests were performing their different rites in
various nooks and corners, and crowds of dis-
ciples were rushing about in all directions, — some
laughing and talking, some begging, but most of
them going round in a regular and methodical
way to kiss the sanctified spots, and speak the
appointed syllables, and lay down the accustomed
coin. If this kissing of the shrines had seemed as
though it were done at the bidding of enthusiasm,
or of any poor sentiment even feebly approach-
ing to it, the sight would have been less odd to
Terra Santa. 191
English eyes ; but as it was, I felt shocked at the
sight of grown men thus steadily and carefully
embracing the sticks and the stones — not from
love or from zeal (else God forbid that I should
have blamed), but from a calm sense of duty: they
seemed to be not "working out," but transacting
the great business of salvation.
Dthemetri, however (he generally came with me
when I went out, in order to do duty as inter-
preter), really had in him some enthusiasm ; he
was a zealous, and almost fanatical member of the
Greek Church, and had long since performed the
pilgrimage ; so now, great indeed was the pride
and delight with which he guided me from one
holy spot to another. Every now and then, when
he came to an unoccupied shrine, he fell down
on his knees and performed devotion. He was
almost distracted by the temptations that sur-
rounded him : there were so many stones abso-
lutely requiring to be kissed, that he rushed about
happily puzzled, and sweetly teased, like "Jack
among the maidens."
A Protestant, familiar with the Holy Scrip-
tures, but ignorant of tradition and the geography
of modem Jerusalem, finds himself a good deal
" mazed " when he first looks for the sacred sites.
The Holy Sepulchre is not in a field without the
walls, but in the midst, and in the best part of
the town, under the roof of the great church
192 Eothen.
whicli I have been talking about. It is a hand-
some tomb of oblong form, partly subterranean,
and partly above' ground, and closed in on all
sides, except the one by which it is entered.
You descend into the interior by a few steps,
and there find an altar with burning tapers. This
is the spot held in greater sanctity than any other
in Jerusalem. When you have seen enough of it,
you feel perhaps weary of the busy crowd, and
inclined for a gallop ; you ask your dragoman
whether there will be time before sunset to send
for horses and take a ride to Mount Calvary.
Mount Calvary, signer? — eccolo ! it is ^up- stairs
— on the first fioor. In effect, you ascend, if I
remember rightly, just thirteen steps, and then
you are shown the now golden sockets in which
the crosses of our Lord and the two thieves were
fixed. All this is startling, but the truth is, that
the city, having gathered round the Sepulchre (the
main point of interest), has gradually crept north-
ward, and thus in great measure are occasioned the
many geographical surprises that puzzle the " Bible
Christian."
The Church of the Holy Sepulchre comprises
very compendiously almost all the spots asso-
ciated with the closing career of our Lord. Just
there, on your right. He stood and wept ; — by the
pillar on your left He was scourged ; on the spot,
just before you, He was crowned with the crown
Terra Saiita. 193
of thorns ; — up there He "was crucifiecj, and down
here He was buried. A locality is assigned to
every the minutest event connected with the
recorded history of our Saviour ; even the spot
where the cock crew when Peter denied his Mas-
ter is ascertained and surrounded by the walls
of an Armenian convent. JMany Protestants are
wont to treat these traditions contemptuously, and
those who distinguish themselves from their breth-
ren by the appellation of " Bible Christians " are
almost fierce in their denunciation of these sup-
posed errors.
It is admitted, I believe, by everybody, that the
formal sanctification of these spots was the act of
the Empress Helena, the mother of Constantine ;
but I think it is fair to suppose that she was
guided by a careful regard to the then prevailing
traditions. Now the nature of the ground upon
which Jerusalem stands is such that the localities
belonging to the events there enacted might have
been more easily and permanently ascertained by
tradition than those of any city that I know of.
Jerusalem, whether ancient or modern, was built
upon and surrounded by sharp, salient rocks, in-
tersected by deep ravines. Up to the time of
the siege, Mount Calvary, of course, must have
been well enough known to the people of Jeru-
salem ; the destruction of the mere buildings could
not have obliterated from any man's memory the
194 Eothen.
names of tljose steep rocks and narrow ra\dnes in
the midst of which the city had stood. It seems
to me, therefore, highly probable that in fixing the
site of Calvary the Empress was rightly guided.
llecoUect, too, that the voice of tradition at Jeru-
salem is quite unanimous, and that Eomans, Greeks,
Armenians, and Jews, all hating each other sin-
cerely, concur in assigning the same localities to
the events told in the Gospel. I concede, how-
ever, that the attempt of the Empress to ascertain
the sites of the minor events cannot be safely relied
upon. With respect, for instance, to the certainty
of the spot where the cock crew, I am far from
being convinced.
Supposing that the Empress acted arbitrarily in
fixing the holy sites, it would seem that she fol-
lowed the Gospel of St John, and that the geo-
graphy sanctioned by her can be more easHy
reconciled with that history, than with the ac-
counts of the other Evangelists.
The authority exercised by the Mussulman Gov-
ernment in relation to the holy sites, is in one
view somewhat humbling to the Christians ; for it
is almost as an arbitrator between the contending
sects (this always, of course, for the sake of pe-
cuniary advantage), that the Mussulman lends his
contemptuous aid : he not only grants, but enforces
toleration. All persons, of whatever religion, are
allowed to go as they will into every part of the
Terra Santa. ■ 195
church of the Holy Sepulchre ; but in order to pre-
vent indecent contests, and also from motives arisin"
out of money payments, the Turkish Government
assigns the peculiar care of each sacred spot to one
of the ecclesiastic bodies. Since this guardianship
carries with it the receipt of all the coins deposited
by the pilgrims upon the sacred shrines, it is stren-
uously fought for by all the rival churches, and the
artifices of intrigue are busily exerted at Stamboul,
in order to procure the issue or revocation of tlie
firmans, by which the coveted privilege is granted.
In this strife the Greek Church has of late years
signally triumphed, and the most famous of the
shrines are committed to the care of their priest-
hood. Tliey possess the golden socket in which
stood the cross of our Lord, whilst the Latins are
obliged to content themselves with the apertures
in wliich were inserted the crosses of the two
thieves. They are naturally discontented with
that poor privilege, and sorrowfully look back to
the days of their former glory — the days when
Napoleon was emperor, and Sebastiani ambassador
at the Porte.
Although the pilgrims perform their devotions
at the several shrines with so little apparent
enthusiasm, they are driven to the verge of mad-
ness by the miracle displayed before them on
Easter Saturday. Then it is that the .heaven-
sent fire issues from the Holy Sepulchre. The
196 • Bot/ien.
pilgrims assemble in the great church, and already,
long before the wonder is worked, they are wrought
by anticipation of God's sign, as well as by their
struggles for room and breathing space, to a most
frightful state of excitement. At length the Chief
Priest of the Greeks, accompanied (of all people in
the world) by the Turkish Governor, enters the
tomb. After this there is a long pause, but at
last and suddenly, from out of the small aper-
tures on either side of the Sepulchre, there issue
long shining flames. The pilgrims now rush
forward, madly struggling to light their tapers
at the holy fire. This is the dangerous moment,
and many lives are often lost.
The year before that of my going to Jerusalem,
Ibrahim Pasha, from some whim or motive of
policy, chose to witness the miracle. The vast
church was, of course, thronged, as it always is
on that awful day. It seems that the appearance
of the fire was delayed for a very long time, and
that the growing frenzy of the people was height-
ened by suspense. Many, too, had already sunk
under the effect of the heat and the stifling at-
mosphere, when at last the fire flashed from the
Sepulchre. Then a terrible struggle ensued —
many sank, and were crushed. Ibrahim had
taken his station in one of the galleries, but now,
feeling perhaps his brave blood warmed by the
sight and sound of such strife, he took upon him-
Terra Santa. 197
self to quiet the people by his personal presence,
and descended into the body of the church with
only a few guards. He had forced his way into
the midst of the dense crowd, when unhappily he
fainted away ; his guards shrieked out, and the
event instantly became known. A body of sol-
diers recklessly forced their way through the crowd,
trampling over every obstacle that they might save
the life of their general. Nearly two hundred
people were killed in the struggle.
The following year, however, the Government
took better measures for the prevention of these
calamities. I was not present at the ceremony,
having gone away from Jerusalem some time be-
fore, but I afterwards returned into Palestine, and
I then learned that the day had passed off without
any disturbance of a fatal kind. It is, however,
almost too much to expect that so many ministers
of peace can assemble without finding some occa-
sion for strife, and in that year a tribe of wild
Bedouins became the subject of discord. These
men, it seems, led an Arab life in some of the
desert tracts bordering on the neighbourhood of
Jerusalem, but were not connected with any of
the great ruling tribes. Some whim or notion of
policy had induced them to embrace Christianity ;
but they were grossly ignorant of the rudiments of
their adopted faith ; and having no priest with
them in their desert, they had as little knowledge
198 Eothen.
of religious ceremonies as of religion itself: they
were not even capable of conducting themselves
in a place of worship with ordinary decorum, but
would interrupt the service with scandalous cries
and warlike shouts. Such is the account the
Latins give of them, but 1 have never heard the
other side of the question. These wild fellows,
notwithstanding their entire ignorance of all re-
ligion, are yet claimed by the Greeks, not only
as proselytes who have embraced Christianity
generally, but as converts to the particular doc-
trines and practice of their Church. The people
thus alleged to have concurred with the Greeks
in rejecting the great Eoman Catholic schism, are
never, I believe, within the walls of a church,
or even of any building at all, except upon this
occasion of Easter ; and as they then never fail
to find a row of some kind going on by the side
of the Sepulchre, they fancy, it seems, that the
ceremonies there enacted are funeral games, of a
martial character, held in honour of a deceased
chieftain, and that a Christian festival is a pe-
culiar kind of battle, fought between walls, and
without cavalry. It does not appear, however,
that these men are guilty of any ferocious acts,
or that they attempt to commit depredations. The
charge against them is merely that by their way
of applauding the performance — by their horrible
cries and frightful gestures — they destroy the
Terra Santa. 199
solemnity of diviue service ; and upon this ground
the Franciscans obtained a firman for the exclu-
sion of such tumultuous worshippers. The Greeks,
however, did not choose to lose the aid of their
wild converts merely because they were a little
backward in their religious education, and they
therefore persuaded them to defy the firman by
entering the city en masse, and overawing their
enemies. The Franciscans, as well as the Govern-
ment authorities, were obliged to give way, and
the Arabs triumphantly marched into the church.
The festival, however, must have seemed to them
rather flat ; for although there may have been
some " casualties " in the way of eyes black, and
noses bloody, and women " missing," there was
no return of " killed."
Formerly the Latin Catholics concurred in ac-
knowledging (but not, I hope, in working) the
annual miracle of the heavenly fire ; but they
have for many years withdrawn their countenance
from this exhibition, and they now repudiate it as
a trick of the Greek Church. Thus, of course, the
violence of feeling with which the rival Churches
meet at the Holy Sepulchre on Easter Saturday is
greatly increased, and a disturbance of some kind
is certain. In the year I speak of, though no lives
were lost, there was, as it seems, a tough struggle
in tlie church. I was amused at hearing of a
taunt that was thrown that day upon an Engb'sh
200 Eothen.
traveller. He had taken his station in a con-
venient part of the church, and was no doubt dis-
playing that peculiar air of serenity and gratifi-
cation with which an English gentleman usually
looks on at a row, when one of the Franciscans
came by, all reeking from the fight, and was so
disgusted at the coolness and placid contentment
of the Englishman, that he forgot his monkish
humility, as well as the duties of hospitality (the
Englishman was a guest at the convent), and
plainly said, " You sleep under our roof — you eat
our bread — you drink our wine, — and then, when
Easter Saturday comes, you don't fight for us ! "
Yet these rival Churches go on quietly enough
till their blood is up. Tlie terms on which they
live remind one of the pecuHar relation subsisting
at Cambridge between " town and gown ! "
The contests waged by the priests and friars,
certainly do not originate with the lay-pilgrims,
for the great body of these are quiet and inoffen-
sive people. It is true, however, that their pious
enterprise is believed by them to operate as a
counterpoise for a multitude of sins, whether past
or future, and perhaps they exert themselves in
after-life to restore the balance of good and evil.
The Turks have a maxim which, like most cynical
apothegms, carries with it the buzzing trumpet
of falsehood, as well as the small, fine " sting of
truth." " If your friend has made the pilgrimage
Terra Santa. 201
once, distrust him — if he has made the pilgrim-
age twice, cut him dead ! " The caution is said to
be as applicable to the visitants of Jerusalem as
to those of Mecca ; but I cannot help believing
that the frailties of all the hadjis^" whether Chris-
tian or Mahometan, are greatly exaggerated. I
certainly regarded the pilgrims to Palestine as a
well-disposed, orderly body of people, not strongly
enthusiastic, but desirous to comply with the ordi-
nances of their religion, and to attain the great
end of salvation as quietly and economically as
possible.
"Wlien the solemnities of Easter are concluded,
the pilgrims move off in a body to complete their
good work by visiting the sacred scenes in the
neighbourhood of Jerusalem, including the Wilder-
ness of John the Baptist, Bethlehem, and above all
the Jordan, — for to bathe in those sacred waters is
one of the chief objects of the expedition. All the
pilgrims — men, women, and children — are sub-
merged en chemise, and the saturated linen is care-
fully wrapped up and preserved as a burial dress
that shall inure for salvation in the realms of death.
I saw the burial of a pilgrim ; he was a Greek,
miserably poor and very old. He had just crawled
into the Holy City, and had reached at once the
goal of his pious journey and the end of his
sufferings upon earth. There was no coffin nor
* Hadji — a pilj^ini.
202 EotJie7t.
wrapper ; and as I looked full upon the face of the
dead, I saw how deeply it was rutted with the
ruts of age and misery. The priest, strong and
portly, fresh, fat, and alive with the life of the
animal kingdom — unpaid, or ill paid for his work
— would scarcely deign to mutter out his forms,
but hurried over the words with sliocking haste.
Presently he called out impatiently, " Yalla !
Goor ! " (Come ! look sharp !) and then the dead
Greek was seized ; his limbs yielded inertly to the
rude men that handled them, and down he went
into his grave, so roughly bundled in, that his
neck was twisted by the fall — so twisted, that if
the sharp malady of life were still upon him, the
old man would have shrieked and groaned, and
the lines of his face would have quivered with
pain. The lines of his face were not moved, and
the old man lay still and heedless — so well cured
of that tedious life -ache that nothing could Imrt
him now. His clay was itself again — cool, firm,
and tough. The pilgrim had found great rest. I
threw the accustomed handful of the holy soil
upon his patient face, and then, and in less than a
minute, the earth closed coldly round him.
I did not say " Alas ! " — (nobody ever does
that I know of, though the word is so frequently
written). I thought the old man had got rather
well out of the scrape of being alive and poor.
The destruction of the mere buildings in such a
Terra Santa. 203
place as Jerusalem would not involve the perma-
nent dispersion of the inhabitants, for the rocky-
neighbourhood in which the town is situate
abounds in caves, and these would give an easy
refuge to the people until they gained an oppor-
tunity of rebuilding their dwellings. Therefore I
could not help looking upon the Jews of Jerusa-
lem as being in some sort the representatives, if
not the actual descendants, of the men who cruci-
fied our Saviour. Supposing this to be the case, I
felt that there would be some interest in knowini:
how the events of the Gospel history were regarded
by the Israelites of modern Jerusalem. The result
of my inquiry upon this subject was, so far as it
went, entirely favourable to the truth of Chris-
tianity. I understood that the ■performance of the
miracles vjas not doiihted hy any of the Jevxs in the
-place; all of them concurred in attributing the
works of our Lord to the influence of magic, but
they were divided as to the species of enchant-
ment from which the power proceeded. The great
mass of the Jewish people believed, I fancy, that
the miracles had been wrought by aid of the
powers of darkness ; but many, and those the
more enlightened, would call Jesus " the good Ma-
gician." To Europeans repudiating the notion of
all magic, good or bad, the opinion of the Jews as
to the agency by which the miracles were worked
is a matter of no importance ; but the circumstance
204 Eotlten.
of their admitting that those miracles vjere, in fcict
'performed, is certainly curious, and perhaps not
quite immaterial.
If you stay in the Holy City long enough to
fall into anything like regular habits of amusement
and occupation, and to become, in short, for the
time " a man about town " at Jerusalem, you will
necessarily lose the enthusiasm which you may
liave felt when you trod the sacred soil for the
first time, and it will then seem almost strange to
you to find yourself so entirely surrounded in all
your daily pursuits by the signs and sounds of
religion. Your hotel is a monastery — your rooms
are cells — the landlord is a stately abbot, and the
waiters are hooded monks. If you walk out of
the town you find yourself on the ]\Iount of
Olives, or in the Valley of Jehoshaphat, or on the
Hill of Evil Counsel. If you mount your horse
and extend your rambles, you will be guided to
the Wilderness of St John, or the birthplace of our
Saviour. Your club is the great Church of the
Holy Sepulchre, where everybody meets every-
body every day. If you lounge through the town,
your Pall MaU is the Via Dolorosa, and the object
of your hopeless affections is some maid or matron
all forlorn, and sadly shrouded in her pilgrim's
robe. If you would hear music, it must be the
chanting of friars. If you look at pictures, you
see Virgins with mis-foreshortened arms, or devils
I
Terra Santa. 205
out of drawing, or angels tumbling up the skies
in impious perspective. If you would make any
purchases, you must go again to the church doors ;
and when you inquire for the manufactures of the
place, you find that they consist of double-blessed
beads and sanctified shells. These last are the
favourite tokens which the pilgrims carry off with
them. The shell is graven, or rather scratched, on
the white side with a rude drawing of the Blessed
Virgin, or of the Crucifixion, or some other Scrip-
tural subject ; having passed this stage it goes into
the hands of a priest ; by him it is subjected to
some process for rendering it efficacious against the
schemes of our ghostly enemy : the manufacture is
then complete, and is deemed to be fit for use.
The village of Bethlehem lies prettily couched
on the slope of a hill. The sanctuary is a sub-
terranean grotto, and is committed to the joint
guardianship of the Eomans, Greeks, and Armen-
ians : these vie with each other in adorning it.
Beneath an altar gorgeously decorated and lit with
everlasting fires, there stands the low slab of stone
which marks the holy site of the Nativity ; and
near to this is a hollow scooped out of the living
rock. Here the infant Jesus was laid. Near the
spot of the Nativity is the rock against which the
Blessed Virgin was leaning when she presented her
babe to the adoring shepherds.
Many of those Protestants who are accustomed
2o6 Eothen.
to despise tradition, consider that this sanctuary is
altogether unscriptural — that a grotto is not a
stable, and that mangers are made of wood. It is
perfectly true, however, that the many grottos and
caves which are found among the rocks of Judea
were formerly used for the reception of cattle ;
they are so used at this day. I liave myself seen
grottos appropriated to this purpose.
You know what a sad and sombre decorum it is
that outwardly reigns through the lands oppressed
by Moslem sway. The Mahometans make beauty
their prisoner, and enforce such a stern and gloomy
morality, or at all events such a frightfully close
semblance of it, that far and long the wearied
traveller may go without catching one glimpse of
outward happiness. By a strange chance in these
latter days, it happened that, alone of all the places
in the land, this Bethlehem, the native village of
our Lord, escaped the moral yoke of the Mussul-
mans, and heard again, after ages of dull oppres-
sion, the cheering clatter of social freedom, and the
voices of laughing gii-ls. It was after an insurrec-
tion which had been raised against the authority
of Mehemet Ali, that Bethlehem was freed from
the hateful laws of Asiatic decorum. The Mussul-
mans of the village had taken an active part in the
movement, and when Ibrahim had quelled it, his
wrath was still so hot, that he put to death every
one of the few ]\Iahometans of Bethlehem who
Terra Sajita. 207
had not already fled. The effect produced upon
the Christian inhabitants by the sudden removal
of this restraint was immense. The village smiled
once more. It is true that such sweet freedom
could not long endure. Even if the population of
the place should continue to be entirely Christian,
the sad decorum of the Mussulmans, or rather of
the Asiatics, would sooner or later be restored
by the force of opinion and custom. But for a
while the sunshine would last; and when I was
at Bethlehem, though long after the flight of the
Mussulmans, the cloud of Moslem propriety had
not yet come back to cast its cold shadow upon
life. When you reach that gladsome village, pray
heaven there still may be heard there the voice
of free innocent girls. It will sound so dearly
welcome !
To a Christian and thorough-bred Englishman,
not even the licentiousness generally accompanying
it can compensate for the oppressiveness of that
horrible outward decorum which turns the cities
and the palaces of Asia into deserts and jails. So
I say, when you see and hear them, those romping
girls of Bethlehem will gladden your very soul.
Distant at first, and then nearer and nearer the
timid flock will gather round you with their large
burning eyes gravely fixed against yours, so that
they see into your brain ; and if you imagine evil
against them they will know of your ill thought
2o8 Eothen.
before it is yet well born, and will fly and be
gone in the moment. But presently, if you will
only look virtuous enough to prevent alarm, and
vicious enough to avoid looking silly, the blithe
maidens will draw nearer and nearer to you ; and
soon there will be one, the bravest of the sisters,
who will venture right up to your side, and touch
the hem of your coat in playful defiance of the
danger, and then the rest will follow the daring of
their youthful leader, and gather close round you,
and hold a shrill controversy on the wondrous for-
mation that you call a hat, and the cunning of the
hands that clothed you with cloth so fine ; and
then, growing more profound in their researches,
they will pass from the study of your mere dress
to a serious contemplation of your stately height,
and your nut-brown hair, and the ruddy glow of
your English cheeks. And if they catch a glimpse
of your ungloved fingers, then again will they make
the air ring with their sweet screams of delight and
amazement, as they compare the fairness of your
hand with the hues of your sunburnt face, or with
their own warmer tints. Instantly the ringleader
of the gentle rioters imagines a new sin ; with trem-
ulous boldness she touches, then grasps your hand,
and smoothes it gently betwixt her own, and pries
curiously into its make and colour, as though it
were silk of Damascus or shawl of Cashmere. And
when they see you, even then, still sage and gentle,
Ter7'a Saiita. 209
the joyous girls will suddenly, and screamingly, and
all at once, explain to each other that you are
surely quite harmless and innocent — a lion that
makes no spring — a bear that never hugs ; and
upon this faith, one after the other, they will take
your passive hand, and strive to explain it, and
make it a theme, and a controversy. But the one
— the fairest and the sweetest of all, is yet the most
timid : she shrinks from the daring deeds of her
playmates, and seeks shelter behind their sleeves,
and strives to screen her glowing consciousness
from the eyes that look upon lier. But her laugh-
ing sisters will have none of this cowardice ; they
vow that the fair one shall be their complice —
shall share their dangers — shall touch the hand of
the stranger ; they seize her small wrist and drag
her forward by force, and at last, whilst yet she
strives to turn away, and to cover up her whole
soul under the folds of downcast eyelids, they van-
quish her utmost strength, they vanquish her utmost
modesty, and marry her hand to yours. The quick
pulse springs from her fingers and throbs like a
whisper upon your listening palm. For an instant
her large timid eyes are upon you — in an instant
they are shrouded again, and there comes a blush
so burning, that the frightened girls stay their shriU
laughter as though they had played too perilously
and harmed their gentle sister. A moment, and
all with a sudden intelligence turn awny and flv
o
2IO Eotken.
like deer; yet soon again like deer they wheel
round, and return, and stand, and gaze upon the
danger, until they grow brave once more.
" I regret to observe that the removal of the
moral restraint imposed by the presence of the
Mahometan inhabitants has led to a certain de-
gree of boisterous, though innocent levity, in the
bearing of the Christians, and more especially in
the demeanour of those who belong to the younger
portion of the female population ; but I feel assured
that a more thorough knowledge of the principles
of their own pure religion will speedily restore
these young people to habits of propriety, even
more strict than those which were imposed upon
them by the authority of their Mahometan breth-
ren." Bah ! thus you might chant, if you choose ;
but loving the truth, you will not so disown
sweet Bethlehem — you will not disown nor dis-
semble your right good hearty delight when you
find, as though in a desert, this gushing spring of
fresh and joyous girlhood.
2ir
CHAPTER XVII.
THE DESERT.
Gaza stands upon the verge of the Desert, and
bears towards it the same kind of relation as a
seaport bears to the sea. It is there that you
clmrter your camels (" the ships of the Desert ")
and lay in your stores for the voyage.
These preparations kept me in the town for
some days. Disliking restraint, I declined making
myself the guest of the governor (as it is usual
and proper to do), but took up my quarters at the
caravanserai, or khan, as they call it in that part
of Asia.
Dthemetri had to make the arrangements for
my journey, and in order to arm himself with suf-
ficient authority for doing all that was required, he
found it necessary to put himself in communica-
tion with the governor. The result of this diplo-
matic intercourse was, that the governor with his
train of attendants came to me one day at my
caravanserai, and formally complained that Dthe-
2 1 2 Eothen.
metri had grossly insulted him. I was shocked at
this, for the man had been always attentive and
civil to me, and I was disgusted at the idea of his
being rewarded with insult. Dthemetri was pres-
ent when the complaint was made, and I angrily
asked him whether it was true that he had really
insulted the governor, and what the deuce he
meant by it. This I asked with the full certainty
that Dthemetri, as a matter of course, would deny
the charge — would swear that a " wrong construc-
tion had been put upon his words, and that nothing
was further from his thoughts," &c,, &c., after the
manner of the Parliamentary people ; but to my
surprise he very plainly answered that he certainly
had insulted the governor, and that rather grossly,
but he said it was quite necessary to do this in
order to " strike terror and inspire respect." " Ter-
ror and respect ! Wliat on earth do you mean by
that nonsense ? " — " Yes, but without striking ter-
ror and inspiring respect, he (Dthemetri) would
never be able to force on the arrangements for
my journey, and Vossignoria would be kept at
Gaza for a month ! " This would have been awk-
ward ; and certainly I could not deny that poor
Dthemetri had succeeded in his odd plan of inspir-
ing respect, for at the very time that this explana-
tion was going on in Italian, the governor seemed
more than ever, and more anxiously, disposed to
overwhelm me with assurances of goodwill and
The Desert. 2 r 3
proffers of his best services. All this kindneas or
promise of kindness I naturally received with cour-
tesy— a courtesy that greatly perturbed Dthemetri,
for he evidently feared that my civility would undo
all the good that his insults had achieved.
You will find, I think, that one of the greatest
drawbacks to the pleasure of travelling in Asia is
the being obliged more or less to make your way
by bullying. It is true that your own lips are not
soiled by the utterance of all the mean w^ords that
are spoken for you, and that you don't even know
of the sham threats, and the false promises, and the
vainglorious boasts put forth by your dragoman ;
but now and then there happens some incident of
the sort which I have just been mentioning, which
forces you to believe or suspect that your drago-
man is habitually fighting your battles for you in
a way that you can hardly bear to think of
A caravanserai is not ill adapted to the purposes
for which it is meant. It forms the four sides of a
large quadrangular court : the ground-floor is used
for warehouses, the first floor for guests, and the
open court for the temporary reception of the
camels, as weU as for the loading and unloading
of their burthens and the transaction of mercantile
business generally. The apartments used for the
guests are small cells opening into a kind of cor-
ridor which runs through the inner sides of the
court.
2 1 4 Eothen.
Whilst I lay near the opening of my cell, look-
ing down into the court below, there arrived from
the Desert a caravan — that is, a large assemblage
of travellers. It consisted chiefly of Moldavian pil-
grims, who, to make their good work even more
than complete, had begun by visiting the shrine of
the Virgin in Egypt, and were now going on to
Jerusalem. They had been overtaken in the Des-
ert by a gale of wind, which so drove the sand,
and raised up such mountains before them, that
their journey had been terribly perplexed and
obstructed, and their provisions (including water,
the most precious of all) had been exhausted long
before they reached the end of their toilsome march.
They were sadly wayworn. The arrival of the
caravan drew many and various groups into the
court. There was the Moldavian pilgrim with his
sable dress, and cap of fur, and heavy masses of
bushy hair — the Turk with his various and bril-
liant garments — the Arab superbly stalking under
his striped blanket that hung like royalty upon
his stately form — the jetty Ethiopian in his slav-
ish frock — the sleek, smooth-faced scribe with his
comely pelisse, and his silver ink-box stuck in like
a dagger at his girdle. And mingled with these
were the camels, — some standing — some kneeling
and being unladen — some twisting round their
long necks and gently stealing the straw from
out of their own pack-saddles.
The Desert. 2 1 5
In <a couple of days I was ready to start. The
way of providing for the passage of the Desert is
this : there is an agent in the town who keeps
himself in communication with some of the Desert
Arabs that are hovering within a day's journey of
the place ; a party of these, upon being guaranteed
against seizure or other ill treatment at the hands
of the governor, come into the town, bringing with
them the number of camels which you require, and
then they stipulate for a certain sum to take you
to the place of your destination in a given time.
The agreement thus made by them includes a safe-
conduct through their country, as well as the hire
of the camels. According to the contract made
with me I was to reach Cairo within ten days
from the commencement of the journey. I had
four camels — one for my baggage, one for each of
my servants, and one for myself. Tour Arabs, the
owners of the camels, came with me on foot. ]\Iy
stores were a small soldier's tent; two bags of dried
bread brought from the convent at Jerusalem, and
a couple of bottles of wine from the same source ;
two goatskins filled with water ; tea, sugar, a cold
tongue, and (of all things in the world) a jar of
Irish butter which Mysseri had purchased from
some merchant. There was also a small sack of
charcoal, for the greater part of the Desert through
which we were to pass is void of fuel.
The camel kneels to receive her load, and for a
2 1 6 Eothen.
while she will allow the packing to go on with
silent resignation, but when she begins to suspect
that her master is putting more than a just burthen
upon her poor hump, she turns round her supple
neck, and looks sadly upon the increasing load, and
then gently remonstrates against the wrong with
the sigh of a patient wife. If sighs will not move
you, she can weep. You soon learn to pity, and
soon to love her for the sake of her gentle and
womanish ways.
You cannot, of course, put an English or any
other riding saddle upon the back of the camel ;
but your quilt or carpet, or whatever you carry
for the purpose of lying on at night, is folded and
fastened on to the pack-saddle upon the top of the
hump, and on this you ride, or rather sit. You
sit as a man sits on a chair when he sits astride.
I made an improvement on this plan : I had my
English stirrups strapped on to the cross-bars of
the pack-saddle ; and thus, by gaining rest for my
dangling legs, and gaining, too, the power of vary-
ing my position more easily than I could otherwise
have done, I added very much to my comfort.
The camel, like the elephant, is one of the old-
fashioned sort of animals that still walk along
upon the (now nearly exploded) plan of the an-
cient beasts that lived before the Flood : she moves
forward both her near legs at the same time, and
then awkwardly swings round her off - shoulder
The Desert , 2 1 7
and liaunch, so as to repeat the manoiuvre on that
side ; her pace, therefore, is an odd, disjointed, and
disjoining sort of movement that is rather disagree-
able at first, but you soon grow reconciled to it.
The height to which you are raised is of great ad-
vantage to you in passing the burning sands of
the Desert, for the air at such a distance from the
ground is much cooler and more lively than that
which circulates beneath.
For several miles beyond Gaza the land, fresh-
ened by the rains of the last week, was covered
with rich verdure, and thickly jewelled with mead-
ow-flowers so bright and fragrant that I began to
grow almost uneasy — to fancy that the very Desert
was receding before me, and that the long-desired
adventure of passing its " burning sands " was to
end in a mere ride across a field. But as I ad-
vanced, the true character of the country began
to display itself with sufficient clearness to dispel
my apprehensions, and before the close of my first
day's journey, I had the gratification of finding
that I was surrounded on all sides by a tract of
real sand, and had nothing at all to complain of,
except that there peeped forth at intervals a few
isolated blades of grass, and many of those stunted
shrubs which are the accustomed food of the camel.
Before sunset I came up with an encampment
of Arabs (the encampment from which my camels
had been brought), and my tent was pitched
2 1 8 Eothen.
amongst theirs. I was now amongst the true
Bedouins. Almost every man of this race closely
resembles his brethren ; almost every man has
large and finely-formed features, but his face is
so thoroughly stripped of flesh, and the white folds
from his head-gear fall down by his haggard cheeks
so much in the burial fashion, that he looks quite
sad and ghastly ; his large dark orbs roll slowly
and solemnly over the white of his deep-set eyes ;
his countenance shows painful thought and long
suffering — the suffering of one fallen from a high
estate. His gait is strangely majestic, and he
marches along with his simple blanket, as though
he were wearing the purple. His common talk is
a series of piercing screams and cries ^^ very pain-
ful to hear.
The Bedouin women are not treasured up like
the wives and daughters of other orientals, and
indeed they seemed almost entirely free from the
restraints imposed by jealousy. The feint which
they made of concealing their faces from me was
always slight : when they first saw me, they used
tQ hold up a part of their drapery with one hand
across their faces, but they seldom persevered very
steadily in subjecting me to this privation. They
were sadly plain. The awful haggardness that gave
* Millies cleverly goes to the French for the exact word which
conveys the impression produced by the voice of the Arabs, and
calls them "un peuple criard."
The Desert. 2 1 9
something of character to the faces of the men was
sheer ugliness in the poor women. It is a great
shame, but the truth is, that except when we refer
to the beautiful devotion of tlie mother to her
child, all the fine things we say and think about
women apply only to those who are tolerably good-
looking or graceful. These Arab women were not
within the scope of the privilege, and indeed were
altogether much too plain and clumsy for this vain
and lovesome world. They may have been good
women enough, so far as relates to the exercise of
the minor virtues, but they had so grossly neglected
the prime duty of looking pretty in this transitory
life that I could not at all forgive them; they
seemed to feel the weight of their guilt, and to
be truly and humbly penitent. I had the com-
plete command of their affections, for at any
moment I could make their young hearts bound
and their old hearts jump by offering a handful of
tobacco ; yet, believe me, it was not in the first
soir6e that my store of Latakiah was exhausted.
The Bedouin women have no religion ; this is
partly the cause of their clumsiness. Perhaps, if
from Christian girls they w^ould learn how to pray,
their souls might become more gentle, and their
limbs be clothed with grace.
You who are going into their country have a
direct personal interest in knowing something about
" Arab hospitality ; " but the deuce of it is, tliat
2 20 Eothen.
the poor fellows with whom 1 have happened to
pitch my tent were scarcely ever in a condition to
exercise that magnanimous virtue with much ddat;
indeed ]\Iysseri's canteen generally enabled me to
outdo ray hosts in the matter of entertainment.
They were always courteous, however, and were
never backward in offering me the youart, a kind
of whey, which is the principal delicacy to be
found amongst the wanderinj^ tribes.
Practically, I think, Childe Harold would have
found it a dreadful bore to make " the desert his
dweUing-place," for, at aU events, if he adopted the
life of the Arabs, he would have tasted no solitude.
The tents are partitioned, not so as to divide the
Childe, and the "fair spirit " who is his " minister,"
from the rest of the world, but so as to separate
the twenty or thirty brown men that sit screaming
in the one compartment from the fifty or sixty
brown women and children that scream and squeak
in the other. If you adopt the Arab life for the
sake of seclusion, you will be horribly disappointed,
for you will find yourself in perpetual contact with
a mass of hot fellow-creatures. It is true that all
who are inmates of the same tent are related to
each other, but I am not quite sure that that cir-
cumstance adds much to the charm of such a life.
In passing the Desert you will find your Arabs
wanting to start and to rest at all sorts of odd
times ; they like, for instance, to be ofl' at one in
The Dese7'f. 2 2 1
the morning, and to rest during the whole of the
afternoon. You must not give way to their wishes
in this respect : I tried their plan once, and found
it very harassing and unwholesome. An ordinary
tent can give you very little protection against
heat, for the fire strikes fiercely through single
canvas, and you soon find that whilst you lie
crouching and striving to hide yourself from the
blazing face of the sun, his power is harder to bear
than it is when you boldly defy him from the airy
heights of your camel.
It had been arranged with my Arabs that they
were to bring with them all the food which they
would want for themselves during the passage of
the Desert, but as we rested at the end of the first
day's journey by the side of an Arab encampment,
my camel-men found all that they required for that
night in the tents of their own brethren. On the
evening of the second day, however, just before we
encamped for the night, my four Arabs came to
Dthemetri, and formally announced that they had
not brought with them one atom of food, and
that they looked entirely to my supplies for their
daily bread. This was awkward intelligence. We
vvere now just two days deep in the Desert, and
I had brought with me no more bread than might
be reasonably required for myself and my European
attendants. I believed at the moment (for it
seemed likely enougli) that the men had really
2 2 2 Eothen.
mistaken the terms of the arrangement, and feeling
that the bore of being put upon half rations would
be a less evil (and even to myself a less inconveni-
ence) than the starvation of my Arabs, I at once
told Dthemetri to assure them that my bread
should be equally shared with aU. Dthemetri, how-
ever, did not approve of this concession ; he assur-
ed me quite positively that the Arabs thoroughly
understood the agreement, and that if they were
now without food, they had wilfully brought them-
selves into this strait for the wretched purpose of
bettering their bargain by the value of a few^jaras'
worth of bread. This suggestion made me look at
the affair in a new light. I should have been glad
enough to put up with the slight privation to
which my concession would subject me, and could
have borne to witness the semi-starvation of poor
Dthemetri with a fine philosophical calm, but it
seemed to me that the scheme, if scheme it were,
had something of audacity in it, and was well
enough calculated to try the extent of my softness.
I knew the danger of allowing such a trial to result
in a conclusion that I was one who might be easily
managed ; and therefore, after thoroughly satisfying
myself, from Dthemetri's clear and repeated asser-
tions, that the Arabs had really understood the
arrangement, I determined that tliey should not
now violate it by taking advantage of my position
in the midst of their big Desert ; so I desired
The Desert. 223
Dthemetri to tell them that they should touch no
bread of mine. We stopped, and the tent was
pitched ; the Arabs came to me and prayed loudly
for bread ; I refused them.
" Then we die ! "
" God's will be done."
I gave the Arabs to understand that I regretted
their perishing by hunger, but that I should bear
this calmly, like any other misfortune not my own
— that, in short, I was happily resigned to tlidr
fate. The men would have talked a great deal,
but they were under the disadvantage of address-
ing me through a hostile interpreter. They looked
hard upon my face, but they found no hope there,
so at last they retired, as they pretended, to lay
them down and die.
In about ten minutes from this time I found
that the Arabs were busily cooking their bread !
Their pretence of having brought no food was false,
and was only invented for the purpose of saving
it. They had a good bag of meal, which they had
contrived to stow away under the baggage, upon
one of the camels, in such a way as to escape
notice. In Europe the detection of a scheme like
this would have occasioned a disagreeable feeling
between the master and the delinquent ; but you
would no more recoil from an oriental on account
of a matter of this sort, than in England you would
reject a horse that had tried and failed to throw
2 24 Eothen.
you. Indeed I felt quite good-humouredly towards
my Arabs because they had so wofully failed iu
their wretched attempt, and because, as it turned
out, I had done what was right ; they too, poor
fellows, evidently began to like me immensely, on
account of the hard-heartedness which had enabled
me to baffle their scheme.
The Arabs adhere to those ancestral principles
of bread-baking which have been sanctioned by the
experience of ages. The very first baker of bread
that ever lived must have done his work exactly as
the Arab does at this day. He takes some meal,
and holds it out in the hollow of his hands whilst
his comrade pours over it a few drops of water ; he
then mashes up the moistened flour into a paste,
pulls the lump of dough so made into small pieces,
and thrusts them into the embers. His way of
baking exactly resembles the craft or mystery of
roasting chestnuts, as practised by children ; there
is the same prudence and circumspection in choos-
ing a good berth for the morsel — the same enter-
prise and self-sacrificing valour in pulling it out
with the fingers.
The manner of my daily march was this. At
about an hour before dawn I rose and made the
most of about a pint of water which I allowed
myself for washing. Then I breakfasted upon tea
and bread. As soon as the beasts were loaded, I
mounted my camel and pressed forward. My poor
The Desert. 223
Arabs being on foot would sometimes moan with
fatigue, and pray for rest, but I was anxious to
enable them to perform their contract for bringing
me to Cairo within the stipulated time, and I did
not therefore allow a halt until the evening came.
About mid-day, or soon after, Mysseri used to bring
up his camel alongside of mine and supply me with
a piece of the dried bread softened in water, and
also (as long as it lasted) with a piece of the
tongue. After this there came into my hand (how
well I remember it !) the little tin cup half filled
with wine and water.
As long as you are journeying in the interior of
the Desert you have no particular point to make
for as your resting-place. The endless sands yield
nothing but small stunted shrubs ; even these fail
after the first two or three days, and from that
time you pass over broad plains — you pass over
newly-reared hills — you pass through valleys dug
out by the last week's storm, — and the hills and
the valleys are sand, sand, sand, still sand, and only
sand, and sand, and sand again. The earth is so
samely that your eyes turn towards heaven —
towards heaven, I mean, in sense of sky. You
look to the sun, for he is your taskmaster, and by
him you know the measure of the work that you
have done, and the measure of the work that
remains for you to do. He comes when you strike
your tent in the early morning, and then, for the
P
226 Eothen.
first hour of the day, as you move forward on your
camel, he stands' at your near side, and makes you
know that the whole day's toil is before you ; then
for a while, and a long while, you see him no more,
for you are veiled and shrouded, and dare not look
upon the greatness of his glory, but you know
where he strides overhead, by the touch of his
flaming sword. No words are spoken, but your
Arabs moan, your camels sigh, your skin glows,
your shoulders ache, and for sights you see the
pattern and the web of the silk that veils your
eyes, and the glare of the outer light. Time
labours on — your skin glows, your shoulders ache,
your Arabs moan, your camels sigh, and you see
the same pattern in the silk, and the same glare
of light beyond ; but conquering time marches on,
and by-and-by the descending sun has compassed
the heaven, and now softly touches your right arm,
and throws your lank shadow over the sand right
along on the way for Persia. Then again you look
upon his face, for his power is all veiled in his
beauty, and the redness of flames has become the
redness of roses ; the fair, wavy cloud that fled in
the morning now comes to his sight once more —
comes blushing, yet still comes on — comes burning
with blushes, yet comes and clings to his side.
Then begins your season of rest. The world
about you is all your own, and tliere, where you
will, you pitch your solitary tent ; there is nc
The Desert. 227
living thing to dispute your choice. When at
last the spot had been fixed upon and we came
to a halt, one of the Arabs would touch the chest
of my camel, and utter at the same time a peculiar
gurgling sound. The beast instantly understood
and obeyed the sign, and slowly sank under me,
till she brought her body to a level with the
ground : then galdly enough I alighted. The
rest of the camels were unloaded and turned
loose to browse upon the shrubs of the Desert,
where shrubs there were ; or where these failed,
to wait for the small quantity of food that was
allowed them out of our stores.
My servants, helped by the Arabs, busied them-
selves in pitching the tent and kindling the fire.
Whilst this was doing, I used to walk away to-
wards the East, confiding in the print of my foot
as a guide for my return. Apart from the cheer-
ing voices of my attendants I could better know
and feel the loneliness of the Desert. The influ-
ence of such scenes, however, was not of a soften-
ing kind, but filled me rather with a sort of childish
exultation in the self-suf&ciency which enabled me
to stand thus alone in the wideness of Asia — a
short-lived pride, for wherever man wanders, he
still remains tethered by the chain that links him
to his kind ; and so when the night closed round
me, I began to return — to return, as it were, to my
own gate. Reaching at last some high ground, I
2 28 Eothen.
could see, and see with delight, the fire of our
small encampment ; and when, at last, I regained
the spot, it seemed a very home that had sprung
up for me in the midst of these solitudes. My
Arabs were busy with their bread, — Mysseri rat-
thng tea-cups, — the little kettle with her odd, old-
maidish looks, sat humming away old songs about
England ; and two or three yards from the fire my
tent stood prim and tight with open portal, and
with welcoming look — a look like " the own arm-
chair " of our lyrist's " sweet Lady Anne."
Sometimes in the earlier part of my journey the
night-breeze blew coldly ; when that happened, the
dry sand was heaped up outside round the skirts
of the tent, and so the wind that everywhere
else could sweep as he listed along those dreary
plains, was forced to turn aside in his course and
make way, as he ought, for the Englishman. Then
within my tent there were heaps of luxuries, —
dining-rooms, dressing-rooms, libraries, bedrooms,
drawing - rooms, oratories, — all crowded into the
space of a hearth-rug. The first night, I remem-
ber, with my books and maps about me, I wanted
a light. They brought me a taper, and imme-
diately from out of the silent Desert there rushed
in a flood of life unseen before. Monsters of
moths of all shapes and hues that never before
perhaps had looked upon the shining of a flame
now madly thronged into my tent, and dashed
The Desert. 229
through the fire of the candle till they fairly
extinguished it with their burning limbs. Those
who had failed in attaining this martyrdom sud-
denly became serious, and clung despondingly to
the canvas.
By -and -by there was brought to me the fra-
grant tea, and big masses of scorched and scorching
toast, and the butter that had come all the way to
me in this Desert of Asia, from out of that poor,
dear, starving Ireland. I feasted like a king, — -
lilve four kings, — like a boy in the fourth form.
When the cold, sullen morning dawned, and my
people began to load the camels, I always felt
loath to give back to the waste this little spot
of ground that had glowed for a while with the
cheerfulness of a human dwelling. One by one
the cloaks, the saddles, the baggage, the hundred
things that strewed the ground and made it look
so familiar, — all these were taken away, and laid
upon the camels. A speck in the broad tracts of
Asia remained still impressed with the mark of
patent portmanteaus, and the heels of London
boots ; the embers of the fire lay black and cold
upon the sand ; and these were the signs we left.
My tent was spared to the last, but when all
else was ready for the start, then came its fall ;
the pegs were drawn, the canvas shivered, and in
less than a minute there was nothing that re-
mained of my genial home but only a pole and
2 30 Eothen.
a bundle. The encroaching Englishman was off,
and instant upon the fall of the canvas, like an
owner who had waited and watched, the Genius
of the Desert stalked in.
To servants, as I suppose to any other Euro-
peans not much accustomed to amuse themselves
by fancy or memory, it often happens that after
a few days' journeying, the loneliness of the Desert
will become frightfully oppressive. Upon my poor
fellows the access of melancholy came heavy, and
all at once, as a blow from above ; they bent their
necks, and bore it as best they could ; but their
joy was great on the fifth day, when we came
to an oasis called Gatieh, for here we found
encamped a caravan (that is an assemblage of
travellers) from Cairo. The orientals living in
cities never pass the Desert except in this way.
Many will wait for weeks, and even for month s,
until a sufficient number of persons can bo found
rea/^ly to undertake the journey at the .same time
— until the flock of sheep is big enough to fancy
it<ielf a match for wolves. They could not, I
think, really secure themselves against any serious
danger by this contrivanc<j ; for though tbf.y liavi-,
arms, they are so little accustomed to use them,
and so utterly unorganise^l, that they never could
make good their resistance to robbers of the slighty
est refij^ectability. It is not of the BcdoiiiriH tbut
inch travellers are afraid, for the safe -conduct
laatBTRsg ant fflamCTc ui tbcoiih: ierrs ^ -.-'i»r
lEorr- """ 'nor' tf lay inoL
TgP-
Twiginniu'Tiiif. 'jnesi ir?- rr-i^ , _ _ _./.OTt
>E UTV'rtUt SUET^raSELQIE. WI.Jl -i^ftfTTftf3T 3IIC. "T^D-
t4MllilH»^
la- trrtriri "jart'LV "O. "Hfi: ^^Tinir — iC; -jib?
^rTTTTTf?wr jpjniiaiinuc ^ loc imn^
j:^3£31-. )nE Ou.. m 'iiBz TTIMgn )r 'Oer ounE-
232 Eothen.
eller will make all his journeys without carrying
a handful of coin, and yet, when he arrives at a
city, will rain down showers of gold. The theory
is that the English traveller has committed some
sin against God and his conscience, and that for
this the evil spirit has hold of him, and drives
him from his home like a victim of the old Grecian
furies, and forces him to travel over countries far
and strange, and most chiefly over deserts and
desolate places, and to stand upon the sites of
cities that once were, and are now no more, and
to grope among the tombs of dead men. Often
enough there is something of truth in this notion;
often enough the wandering Englishman is guilty
(if guilt it be) of some pride or ambition, big or
small, imperial or parochial, which being offended
has made the lone places more tolerable than ball-
rooms to him a sinner.
I can understand the sort of amazement of the
orientals at the scantiness of the retinue with
which an Englishman passes the Desert, for I
was somewhat struck myself when I saw one of
my countrymen making his way across the wilder-
ness in this simple style. At first there was a
mere moving speck in the horizon ; my party of
course became all alive with excitement, and there
were many surmises. Soon it appeared that three
laden camels were approaching, and that two of
them carried riders. In a little while we saw that
I
The Desert. 233
one of the riders wore the European dress, and at
last the travellers were pronounced to be an Eng-
lish gentleman and his servant ; by their side
there were a couple of Arabs on foot ; and this,
if I rightly remember, was the whole party.
You, — you love sailing, — in returning from a
cruise to the English coast you see often enough
a fisherman's humble boat far away from all shores,
with an ugly, black sky above, and an angry sea
beneath ; you watch the grisly old man at the
helm carrying his craft with strange skill through
the turmoil of waters, and the boy, supple-limbed,
yet weather-worn already, and with steady eyes
that look through the blast ; you see him under-
standing commandments from the jerk of his
father's white eyebrow, — now belaying, and now
letting go — now scrunching himself down into
mere ballast, or baling out death with a pipkin.
Familiar enough is the sight, and yet when I see
it I always stare anew, and with a kind of Titanic
exultation, because that a poor boat with the brain
of a man and the hands of a boy on board, can
match herself so bravely against black heaven and
ocean. Well, so when you have travelled for days
and days over an Eastern desert without meeting
the likeness of a human being, and then at last
see an English shooting -jacket and a single ser-
vant come listlessly slouching along from out of
the forward horizon, you stare at the wide un-
2 34 Eothen.
proportion between this slender company and the
boundless plains of sa"nd through which they are
keeping their way.
This Englishman, as I afterwards found, was a
military man returning to his country from India,
and crossing the Desert at this part in order to go
through Palestine. As for me, I had come pretty
straight from England, and so here we met in the
wilderness at about half-way from our respective
starting-points. As we approached each other, it
became with me a question whether we should
speak. I thought it likely that the stranger would
accost me, and in the event of his doing so, I was
quite ready to be as sociable and chatty as I could
be according to my nature ; but still I could not
think of anything particular that I had to say to
him. Of course, among civilised people the not
having anything to say is no excuse at all for not
speaking ; but I was shy and indolent, and I felt
no great wish to stop and talk like a morning
visitor in the midst of those broad solitudes. The
traveller perhaps felt as I did, for, except that we
lifted our hands to our caps, and waved our arms
in courtesy, we passed each other quite as distantly
as if we had passed in Pall j\Iall. Our attendants,
however, were not to be cheated of the delight
that they felt in speaking to new listeners, and
hearing fresh voices once more. The masters,
therefore, had no sooner passed each other, than
The Desert. 235
their respective servants quietly stopped and
entered into conversation. As soon as my camel
found that her companions were not following her,
she caught the social feeling and refused to go on.
I felt the absurdity of the situation, and deter-
mined to accost the stranger, if only to avoid the
awkwardness of remaining stuck fast in the Des-
ert whilst our servants were amusing themselves.
When with this intent I turned round my camel,
I found that the gallant officer had passed me by
about thirty or forty yards, and was exactly in
the same predicament as myself. I put my now
willing camel in motion and rode up towards the
stranger : seeing this he followed my example, and
came forward to meet me. He was the first to
speak. Too courteous to address me, as if he
admitted the possibility of my wishing to accost
him from any feeling of mere sociability or civilian-
like love of vain talk, he at once attributed my
advances to a laudable wish of acquiring statis-
tical information ; and accordingly, when we got
within speaking distance, he said, " I daresay you
wish to know how the plague is going on at
Cairo ? " and then he went on to say he regretted
that his information did not enable him to give me
in numbers a perfectly accurate statement of the
daily deaths. He afterwards talked pleasantly
enough upon other and less ghastly subjects. I
thought him manly and intelligent — a worthy
236 Eothen.
one of the few thousand strong Englishmen to
whom the empke of "India is committed.
The night after the meeting with the people of
the caravan, Dthemetri, alarmed by their warn-
ings, took upon himself to keep watch all night
in the tent : no robbers came, except a jackal that
poked his nose into my tent from some motive of
rational curiosity. Dthemetri did not shoot him
for fear of waking me. These brutes swarm in
every part of Syria ; and there were many of
them even in the midst of those void sands which
would seem to give such poor promise of food. I
can hardly tell what prey they could be hoping
for, unless it were that they might find now and
then the carcass of some camel that had died on
the journey. They do not marshal themselves
into great packs like the wild dogs of Eastern
cities, but follow their prey in families like the
place-hunters of Europe. Their voices are fright-
fully like to the shouts and cries of human beings :
if you lie awake in your tent at night, you are
almost continually hearing some hungry family
as it sweeps along in full cry ; ypu hear the
exulting scream with which the sagacious dam
first winds the carrion, and the shrill response of
the unanimous cubs as they snuff the tainted air
— " Wha ! wha \- — wha ! wha ! — wha ! wha ! —
whose gift is it in, mamma ?"
Once during this passage my Arabs lost their
The Desert. 237
\vay among the hills of loose sand that surrounded
us, but after a while we were lucky enough to
recover our right line of march. The same day
we fell in with a sheik, the head of a family, that
actually dwells at no great distance from this part
of the Desert during nine months of the year.
The man carried a matchlock, and of this he was
inordinately proud, on account of the supposed
novelty and ingenuity of the contrivance. We
stopped, and sat down and rested awhile for the
sake of a little talk. There was much that I
should have liked to ask this man, but he could
not understand Dthemetri's language, and the
process of getting at his knowledge by double in-
terpretation through my Arabs was tedious. I
discovered, however (and my Arabs knew of that
fact), that this man and his family lived habit-
ually for nine months of the year without touch-
ing or seeing either bread or water. The stunted
shrub growing at intervals through the sand in
this part of the Desert enables the camel mares
to yield a little milk, and this furnishes the sole
food and drink of their owner and his people.
During the other three months (the hottest, I sup-
pose) even this resource fails, and then the sheik
and his people are forced to pass into another
district. You would ask me why the man should
not remain always in that district which supplies
him with water during three months of the year
■0
S Eothen.
but I don't know enough of Arab politics to
answer the question. ■ The sheik was not a good
specimen of the effect produced by his way of
living: he was very small, very spare, and sadly
shrivelled — a poor over-roasted snipe — a mere cin-
der of a man. 1 made him sit down by my side,
and gave him a piece of bread and a cup of water
from out of my goatskins. This was not very
tempting drink to look at, for it had become
turbid, and was deeply reddened by some colour-
ing matter contained in the skins, but it kept its
sweetness, and tasted like a strong decoction of
Eussian leather. The sheik sipped this drop by
drop with ineffable relish, and rolled his eyes
solemnly round between every draught, as though
the drink were the drink of the Prophet, and had
come from the seventh heaven.
An inquiry about distances led to the discovery
that this sheik had never heard of the division of
time into hours.
About this part of my journey I saw the like-
ness of a fresh-water lake. I saw, as it seemed, a
broad sheet of calm water stretching far and fair
towards the south — stretching deep into winding
creeks, and hemmed in by jutting promontories,
and shelving smooth off towards the shallow side :
on its bosom the reflected fire of the sun lay play-
ing and seeming to float as though upon deep still
waters.
The Desert. 239
Though I knew of the cheat, it was not till tlie
spongy foot of my camel had almost trodden in the
seeming lake, that I could undeceive my eyes, for
the shore-line was quite true and natural. I soon
saw the cause of the phantasm. A sheet of water,
heavily impregnated with salts, had gathered to-
getlier in a vast hollow between the sand-hills, and
wlien dried up by evaporation had left a white
saline deposit ; this exactly marked the space
which the waters had covered, and so traced out
a good shore-line. The minute crystals of the
salt, by their way of sparkling in the sun, were
made to seem like the dazzled face of a lake that
is calm and smooth.
The pace of the camel is irksome, and makes
your shoulders and loins ache from the peculiar
way in which you are obliged to suit yourself to
the movements of the beast ; but one soon, of
course, becomes inured to the work, and after my
first two days this way of travelling became so
familiar to me that (poor sleeper as I am) I now
and then slumbered for some moments together on
the back of my camel. On the fifth day of my
journey the air above lay dead, and all the whole
earth that I could reach with my utmost sight and
keenest listening was still and lifeless, as some dis-
peopled and forgotten world that rolls round and
round in the heavens through wasted floods of
liglit. The sun, growing fiercer and fiercer, shone
240 Eothen.
down more mightily now than ever on me he shone
before, and as I drooped my head under his fire,
and closed my eyes against the glare that sur-
rounded me, I slowly fell asleep — for how many
minutes or moments, I cannot tell ; but after a
while I was gently awakened by a peal of church
bells — my native bells — the innocent bells of Mar-
len, that never before sent forth their music beyond
the Blaygon hills ! My first idea naturally was
that I still remained fast under the power of a
dream. I roused myself, and drew aside the silk
that covered my eyes, and plunged my bare face
into the light. Then at least I was well enough
awakened ; but still those old Marlen bells rang
on, not ringing for joy, but properly, prosily, stead-
ily, merrily ringing " for church." After a while
the sound died away slowly. It happened that
neither I nor any of my party had a watch by
which to measure the exact time of its lasting, but
it seemed to me that about ten minutes had passed
before the bells ceased. I attributed the effect to
the great heat of the sun, the perfect dryness of
the clear air through which I moved, and tlie deep
stillness of all around me. It seemed to me that
these causes, by occasioning a great tension, and
consequent susceptibility of the hearing organs,
had rendered them liable to tingle under the pass-
ing touch of some mere memory that must have
swept across my brain in a moment of sleep.
The Desert. 241
Since my return to England it has been told me
that like sounds have been heard at sea, and
that the sailor, becalmed under a vertical sun
in the midst of the wide ocean, has listened in
trembling wonder to the chime of his own Aollao-e
bells.
During my travels I kept a journal — a journal
sadly meagre and intermittent, but one which en-
abled me to find out the day of the month and the
week according to the European calendar ; refer-
ring to this, I found that the day was Sunday, and,
roughly allowing for the difference of longitude, I
concluded that at the moment of my hearing that
strange peal, the church-going bells of Marlen must
have been actually calling the prim congregation of
the parish to morning prayer. The coincidence
amused me faintly, but I could not allow myself
a hope that the effect I had experienced was any-
thing other than an illusion — an illusion liable to
be explained (as every illusion is in these days) by
some of the philosophers who guess at IS^ature's
riddles. It would have been sweeter to believe
that my kneeling mother, by some pious enchant-
ment, had asked and found this spell to rouse me
from my scandalous forgetfulness of God's holy
day, — but my fancy was too weak to carry a faith
like that. Indeed the vale through which the
beUs of Marlen send their song is a highly respect-
able vale, and its people (save one, two, or three)
Q
242 Eothen.
are wholly unaddicted to the practice of magical
arts.
After the fifth day of my journey, I no longer
travelled over shifting hills, but came upon a dead
level — a dead level bed of sand, quite hard, and
studded with small shining pebbles.
The heat grew fierce ; there was no valley nor
hollow, no hill, no mound, no shadow of hill nor
of mound, by which I could mark the way I was
making. Hour by hour I advanced, and saw no
change — I was still the very centre of a round
horizon ; hour by hour I advanced, and still there
was the same, and the same, and the same — the
same circle of flaming sky — the same circle of
sand still glaring with light and fire. Over all the
heaven above, over all the earth beneath, there
was no visible power that could balk the fierce
will of the sun ; " he rejoiced as a strong man to
run a race ; his going forth was from the end of
the heaven, and his circuit unto the ends of it:
and there was nothing hid from the heat thereof."
From pole to pole, and from the east to the west,
he brandished his fiery sceptre as though he had
usurped all heaven and earth. As he bid the soft
Persian in ancient times, so now, and fiercely too,
he bid me bow down and worship him ; so now
in his pride he seemed to command me, and say,
" Thou shalt have none other gods but me." I was
all alone before him. There were these two pitted
The Desert. 243
together, and face to face ; the mighty sun for
one — and for the other, this poor, pale, solitary seK
of mine that I always carry about with me.
But on the eighth day, and before I had yet
turned away from Jehovah for the glittering god
of the Persians, there appeared a dark line upon
the edge of the forward horizon, and soon the line
deepened into a delicate fringe that sparlded here
and there as though it were sown with diamonds.
There then before me were the gardens and the
minarets of Egypt, and the mighty works of the
Nile, and I (the eternal Ego that I am !) — I had
lived to see, and I saw them.
When evening came I was still within the con-
fines of the Desert, and my tent was pitched as
usual, but one of my Arabs stalked away rapidly
towards the west without telling me of the errand
on which he was bent. After a while he returned :
he had toiled on a graceful service ; he had tra-
velled all the way on to the border of the living
world, and brought me back for a token an ear
of rice, full, fresh, and green.
The next day I entered upon Egypt, and floated
along (for the delight was as the delight of bathing)
through green wavy fields of rice, and pastures
fresh and plentiful, and dived into the cold verdure
of groves and gardens, and quenched my hot eyes
in shade, as though in a bed of deep waters.
244
CHAPTER XYIII.
CAIRO AND THE PLAGUE."^'
Cairo and Plague ! During the whole time of my
stay, the plague was so master of the city, and
stared so plain in every street and every alley, that
I can't now affect to dissociate the two ideas.
* There is some semblance of bravado in niv manner of talkinsj;
about tlie plague. I have been more careful to describe the ter-
rors of other people than my own. The truth is, that during the
whole period of my stay at Cairo I remained thoroughly impressed
with a sense of my danger. I may almost say that I lived under
perpetual apprehension, for even in sleep, as I fancj', there re-
mained with me some faint notion of the peril with whicli I was
encompassed. But fear does not necessarily damp the spirits ; on
the contrary, it will often operate as an excitement giving rise to
unusual animation ; and thus it affected me. If I had not been
surrounded at this time by new faces, new scenes, and new sounds,
the effect produced upon my mind by one unceasing cause of
alarm may have been very different. As it was, the eagerness
with which I pursued my rambles among the wonders of Egypt
was sharpened and increased by the sting of the fear of death.
Thus my account of the matter plainly conveys an impression
that I remained at Cairo without losing my cheerfulness and buoy-
ancy of spirits. And this is the truth ; but it is also true, as I
have freely confessed, that my sense of danger during the whole
period was lively and continuous.
Cairo and the Plague. 245
"When, coining from tlie Desert, I rode througli
a village lying near to the city on the eastern side,
there approached me with busy face and earnest
gestures a personage in the Turldsh dress. His
long flowing beard gave him rather a majestic look,
but his briskness of manner and his visible anxiety
to accost me seemed strange in an oriental. The
man, in fact, was French, or of French origin, and
his object was to warn me of the plague, and pre-
vent me from entering the city.
Arretez-vous, IMonsieur, je vous en prie — arretez-
vous ; il ne faut pas entrer dans la ville ; la Peste
y r^gne partout.
Oui, je sais,'"' mais
Mais, Monsieur, je dis la Peste — la Peste ; c'est
de LA. Peste qu'il est questioiL
Oui, je sais, mais^
Mais, Monsieur, je dis encore la Peste — la.
Peste. Je vous conjure de ne pas entrer dans la
ville — vous seriez dans une ville empestde.
Oui, je sais, mais — - —
Mais, Monsieur, je dois done vous avertir tour
bonnement que si vous entrez dans la ville, vous
serez — enfin vous serez Compromis ! t
* Anglic^ fur "je le sai.s." These answers of mine as given
above are not meant as specimens of mere French, but of that
fine terse nervous Continental English with which I and my com-
patriots make our way through Europe.
t The import of the word "compromised," when used in refer-
ence to contagion, is explained in page 2.
246 Eothe7i.
Oui, je sais, mais
The Frenchman was at last convinced that it
was vain to reason with a mere Englishman who
could not understand what it was to be "com-
promised." I thanked him most sincerely for his
kindly-meant warning. In hot countries it is very
unusual indeed for a man to go out in the glare of
the sun and give free advice to a stranger.
When I arrived at Cairo I summoned Osman
Effendi, who was, as I knew, the owner of several
houses, and would be able to pro%ade me with
apartments. He had no difficulty in doing this, for
there was not one European traveller in Cairo be-
sides myself. Poor Osman ! he met me with a
sorrowful countenance, for the fear of the plague
sat heavily on his soul. He seemed as if he felt
that he was doing wrong in lending me a resting-
place, and he betrayed such a listlessness about
temporal matters as one might look for in a man
who believed that his days were numbered. He
caught me, too, soon after my arrival, coming out
from the public baths,^^ and from that time forward
he was sadly afraid of me, for upon the subject
of contagion he held European opinions.
* It is said that when a Mussulman finds himself attacked by
the plague he goes and takes a bath. The couches on which the
balhiTS recline would carry infection according to the notions of
the Europeans. Whenever, therefore, I took the bath at Cairo
(except tlie lirst time of my doing so), I avoided that part of the
luxury which consists in being "put up to dry" upon a kind of
bed.
Cairo and the Plague. 247
Osman's history is a curious one. He was a
Scotchman born, and when very young, being then
a drummer-boy, he landed in Egypt with Eraser's
force. He was taken prisoner, and according to
Mahometan custom, the alternative of death or
the Koran was offered to him ; he did not choose
death, and therefore went through the ceremonies
necessary for turning him into a good Mahometan.
But what amused me most in his history was this
— that very soon after having embraced Islam,
he was obliged in practice to become curious and
discriminating in his new faith — to make war
upon Mahometan dissenters, and follow the ortho-
dox standard of the Prophet in fierce campaigns
against the Wahabees, the Unitarians of the Mus-
sulman world. The Wahabees were crushed, and
Osman, returning home in triumph from his holy
wars, began to flourish in the world ; he acquired
property, and became effendi, or gentleman. At
the time of my visit to Cairo he seemed to be
much respected by his brother Mahometans, and
gave pledge of his sincere alienation from Chris-
tianity by keeping a couple of wives. He affected
the same sort of reserve in mentioning them as
is generally shown by orientals. He invited me,
indeed, to see his hareem, but he made both his
wives bundle out before I was admitted ; he felt,
as it seemed to me, that neither of them would
bear criticism ; and T think that this idea, rather
248 Eothen.
than any motive of sincere jealousy, induced him
to keep them out of . sight. The rooms of the
hareem reminded me of an English nursery rather
than a Mahometan paradise. One is apt to judge of
a woman hefore one sees her by the air of elegance
or coarseness with which she surrounds her home :
I judged Osman's wives by this test, and con-
demned them both. But the strangest feature in
Osman's character was his inextinguishable nation-
ality. In vain they had brought him over the
seas in early boyhood — in vain had he suffered
captivity, conversion, circumcision — in vain they
had passed him through fire in their Arabian cam-
paigns,— they could not cut away or burn out poor
Osman's inborn love of all that was Scotch ; in
vain men called him Effendi — in vain he swept
along in Eastern robes — in vain the rival wives
adorned his hareem ; the joy of his heart still
plainly lay in this, that he had three shelves of
books, and that the books were thorough -bred
Scotch, — the Edinburgh this — the Edinburgh
that — and, above all, I recollect he prided him-
self upon the "Edinburgh Cabinet Library."
The fear of the plague is its forerunner. It is
likely enough that at the time of my seeing poor
Osman the deadly taint was beginning to creep
through his veins, but it was not till after I had
left Cairo that he was visibly stricken. He died.
As soon as I had seen all that interested me in
Cairo and the Plague. 249
Cairo and its neighbourhood I wished to make my
escape from a city that lay under the terrible curse
of the plague, but Mysseri fell ill in consequence,
I beheve, of the hardships which he had been suf-
fering in my service. After a while he recovered
sufficiently to undertake a journey, but then there
was some difficulty in procuring beasts of burthen,
and it was not till the nineteenth day of my sojourn
that I quitted the city.
During all this time the power of the plague
was rapidly increasing. When I first arrived, it
was said that the daily number of " accidents " by
plague, out of a population of about 200,000, did
not exceed four or five hundred ; but before I went
away, the deaths were reckoned at twelve hundred
a-day. I had no means of knowing whether the
numbers (given out, as I believe they were, by offi-
cials) were at all correct, but I could not help know-
ing that from day to day the number of the dead
was increasing. My quarters were in one of the
chief thoroughfares of the city, and as the funerals
in Cairo take place between daybreak and noon (a
time during which I generally stayed in my rooms),
I could form some opinion as to the briskness of
the plague. I don't mean that I got up every
morning with the sun. It was not so ; but the
funerals of most people in decent circumstances at
Cairo are attended by singers and howlers, and the
performances of these people woke me in the early
250 Eothen.
morning, and prevented me from remaining in igno-
rance of what was going on in the street below.
These funerals were very simply conducted. The
bier was a shallow wooden tray carried upon a light
and weak wooden frame. The tray had in general
no lid, but the body was more or less hidden from
view by a shawl or scarf. The whole was borne
upon the shoulders of men, and hurried forward
at a great pace. Two or three singers generally
preceded the bier ; the howlers (these are paid
for their vocal labours) followed after ; and last
of all came such of the dead man's friends and
relations as could keep up with such a rapid pro-
cession ; these, especially the women, would get
terribly blown, and would struggle back into the
rear ; many were fairly " beaten off." I never
observed any appearance of mourning in the
mourners ; the pace was too severe for any sol-
emn affectation of grief.
When first I arrived at Cairo the funerals that
daily passed under my windows were many, but
still there were frequent and long intervals with-
out a single howl. Every day, however (except
one, when I fancied that I observed a diminu-
tion of funerals), these intervals became less
frequent and shorter, and at last, the passing of
the howlers from morn to noon was almost inces-
sant. I believe that about one half of the whole
people was carried off by this visitation. The
Cairo and the Plague. 2 5 1
orientals, however, have more quiet fortitude than
Europeans under afflictions of this sort, and they
never allow the plague to interfere with their
rehgious usages. I rode one day round the great
burial-ground. The tombs are strewed over a
great expanse among the vast mountains of rub-
bish (the accumulations of many centuries) which
surround the city. The ground, unlike the Turkish
" cities of the dead," which are made so beautiful
by their dark cypresses, has nothing to sweeten
melancholy — nothing to mitigate the hatefulness
of death. Carnivorous beasts and birds possess
the place by night, and now in the fair morning
it was all alive with fresh comers — alive with
dead. Yet at this very time when the plague
was raging so furiously, and on this very ground
which resounded so mournfully with the howls of
arriving funerals, preparations were going on for
the religious festival called the Kourban Bairam.
Tents were pitched, and swings hung for the amuse-
ment of children — a ghastly holiday ! but the
Mahometans take a pride, and a just pride, in
following their ancient customs undisturbed by
the shadow of death.
I did not hear whilst I was at Cairo that any
prayer for a remission of the plague had been
offered up in the mosques. I believe that, how-
ever frightful the ravages of the disease may be,
the ^Mahometans refrain from approaching Heaven
252 Eothen.
with their complaints until the plague has en-
dured for a long space, and then at last they
pray God — not that the plague may cease, but
that it may go to another city !
A good Mussulman seems to take pride in re-
pudiating the European notion that the will of
God can be eluded by shunning the touch of a
sleeve. When I went to see the Pyramids of
Sakkara, I was the guest of a noble old fellow
— an Osmanlee (how sweet it was to hear his
soft rolling language, after suffering as I had
suffered of late from the shrieking tongue of the
Arabs !) This man was aware of the European
ideas about contagion, and his first care therefore
was to assure me that not a single instance of
plague had occurred in his village ; he then in-
quired as to the progress of the plague at Cairo.
I had but a bad account to give. Up to this time
my host had carefully refrained from touching me,
out of respect to the European theory of contagion ;
but as soon as it was made plain that he, and not
I, would be the person endangered by contact, he
gently laid his hand upon my arm in order to
make me feel sure that the circumstance of my
coming from an infected city did not occasion him
the least uneasiness. In that touch there was true
hospitality.
Very different is the faith and the practice of
the Europeans, or rather I mean of the Europeans
Cairo and the Plague. 253
settled in the East, and commonly called Levant-
ines. Wlien I came to the end of my journey
over the Desert I had been so long alone that the
prospect of speaking to somebody at Cairo seemed
almost a new excitement. I felt a sort of con-
sciousness that I had a little of the wild beast
about me, but I was quite in the humour to be
charmingly tame and to be quite engaging in my
manners, if I should have an opportunity of hold-
ing communion with any of the human race whilst
at Cairo. I knew no one in the place, and had
no letters of introduction, but I carried letters of
credit ; and it often happens in places remote from
England that those " advices " operate as a sort of
introduction, and obtain for the bearer (if disposed
to receive them) such ordinary civilities as it may
be in the power of the banker to offer.
Very soon after my arrival I found out the
abode of the Levantine to whom my credentials
were addressed. At his door several persons (all
Arabs) were hanging about and keeping guard.
It was not till after some delay and the inter-
change of some communications with those in the
interior of the citadel that I was admitted. At
length, however, I was conducted through the
court, and up* a flight of stairs, and finally into
the apartment where business was transacted.
The room was divided by a good substantial fence
of iron bars, and behind these defences the banker
2 54 Bo then.
had his station. The truth was that from fear of
the plague he had adopted the course usually taken
by European residents, and had shut himself up
" in strict quarantine," — that is to say, that he
had, as he hoped, cut himself off from all com-
munication with infecting substances. The Euro-
peans long resident in the East without any, or
with scarcely any exception, are firmly convinced
that the plague is propagated by contact, and by
contact only — that if they can but avoid the touch
of an infecting substance, they are safe, and that if
they cannot, they die. This belief induces them
to adopt the contrivance of putting themselves in
that state of siege which they call " quarantine."
It is a part of their faith that metals and
hempen rope, and also, I fancy, one or two other
substances, will not carry the infection : and they
likewise believe that the germ of pestilence lying
in an infected substance may be destroyed by
submersion in water, or by the action of smoke.
They therefore guard the doors of their houses
with the utmost care against intrusion, and con-
demn themselves, with all the members of their
family, including European servants, to a strict
imprisonment within the walls of their dwelling.
Their native attendants are not allowed to enter
at all, but they make the necessary purchases of
provisions : these are hauled up through one of
Cairo and the Plague. 255
the windows by means of a rope, and are after-
wards soaked in water,
I knew nothing of these mysteries, and was not
therefore prepared for the sort of reception I met
with. I advanced to the iron fence, and putting
my letter between the bars, politely proffered it to
Mr Banker. Mr Banker received me with a sad
and dejected look, and not " with open arms," or
with any arms at all, but with — a pair of tongs !
I placed my letter between the iron fingers : these
instantly picked it up as it were a viper, and con-
veyed it away to be scorched and purified by
fire and smoke. I was disgusted at this recep-
tion, and at the idea that anything of mine could
carry infection to the poor wretch who stood on
the other side of the bars — pale and trembling,
and already meet for death. I looked with some-
thing of the Mahometan's feeling upon these little
contrivances for eluding fate : and in this instance
at least they were vain : a little while and the
poor money-changer who had strived to guard
the days of his life (as though they were coins)
with bolts and bars of iron — he was seized by
the plague, and he died.
To people entertaining such opinions as these
respecting the fatal effect of contact, the narrow
and crowded streets of Cairo were terrible as the
easy slope that leads to Avernus. The roaring
256 Eothcn.
ocean and the beetling crags owe something of
their sublimity to this — that if they be tempted,
they can take the warm life of a man. To the
contagionist, filled as he is with the dread of final
causes, having no faith in destiny, nor in the fixed
will of God, and with none of the devil-may-care
indifference which might stand him instead of
creeds — to such one, every rag that shivers in
the breeze of a plague-stricken city has this sort
of sublimity. If by any terrible ordinance he be
forced to venture forth, he sees death dangling
from every sleeve ; and, as he creeps forward, he
poises his shuddering limbs between the imminent
jacket that is stabbing at his right elbow and the
murderous pelisse that threatens to mow him clean
down as it sweeps along on his left. But most
of all he dreads that which most of all he should
love — the touch of a woman's dress ; for mothers
and wives hurrying forth on kindly errands from
the bedsides of the dying go slouching along
through the streets more wilfully and less court-
eously than the men. For a while it may be
that the caution of the poor Levantine may enable
him to avoid contact, but sooner or later, perhaps,
the dreaded chance arrives : that bundle of linen,
with the dark tearful eyes at the top of it, that
labours along with the voluptuous clumsiness of
Grisi — she has touched the poor Levantine with
the hem of her sleeve ! From that dread moment
Cairo and the Plaoue. 2=^7
his peace is gone ; his mind for ever hanging upon
the fatal touch invites the blow which he fears ;
he "watches for the symptoms of plague so carefully
that sooner or later they come in truth. The
parched mouth is a sign — his mouth is parched ;
the throbbing brain — his brain doe,8 throb ; the
rapid -pulse — he touches his own wrist (for he
dares not ask counsel of any man lest he be
deserted), he touches his wrist, and feels how his
frighted blood goes galloping out of his heart.
There is nothing but the fatal swelling that is
wanting to make his sad conviction complete ;
immediately he has an odd feel under the arm
— no pain, but a little straining of the skin ;
he would to God it were his fancy that were
strong enough to give him that sensation : this is
the worst of all. It now seems to him that he
could be happy and contented with his parched
mouth, and his throbbing brain, and his rapid
pulse, if only he could know that there were no
swelling under the left arm ; but dares he try ? —
in a moment of calmness and deliberation he dares
not ; but when for a while he has writhed under
the torture of suspense, a sudden strength of will
drives him to seek and know his fate ; he touches
the gland, and finds the skin sane and sound, but
under the cuticle there lies a small lump like a
pistol - bullet, that moves as he pushes it. Oh !
but is this for all certainty, is this the sentence of
K
258 Eothen.
death ? Feel the gland of the othcsr arm. There
is not the same lump exactly, yet something a
little like it. Have not some people glands natu-
rally enlarged ? — would to heaven he were one !
So he does for himself the work of the plague,
and when the Angel of Death thus courted does
indeed and in truth come, he has only to* finish
that which has been so well begun ; he passes his
fiery hand over the brain of the victim, and lets
him rave for a season, but all chance-wise, of
people and things once dear, or of people and
tilings indifferent. Once more the poor fellow is
back at his home in fair Provence, and sees the
sun-dial that stood in his childhood's garden — sees
part of his mother, and the long-since-forgotten
face of that little dear sister — (he sees her, he
says, on a Sunday morning, for all the church
bells are ringing) ; he looks up and down through
the universe, and owns it well piled with bales
upon bales of cotton and cotton eternal — so
much so, that he feels — he knows — he swears he
could make that winning hazard, if the billiard-
table would not slant upwards, and if the cue
were a cue worth playing with ; but it is not —
it's a cue that won't move — his own arm won't
move — in short, there's the devil to pay in the
brain of the poor Levantine ; and perhaps the next
night but one he becomes the " life and the soul "
of some squalling jackal family, who fish him
I
Cairo and the Plague. 259
out by the foot from his shallow and sandy
grave.
Better fate was mine. By some happy per-
verseness (occasioned perhaps by my disgust at the
notion of being received with a pair of tongs) I
took it into my pleasant head that all the Euro-
pean notions about contagion were thoroughly
unfounded, — that the plague might be provi-
dential or " epidemic " (as they phrase it), but was
not contagious, and that I could not be killed by the
touch of a woman's sleeve, nor yet by her blessed
breath. I therefore determined that the plague
should not alter my habits and amusements in any
one respect. Though I came to this resolve from
impulse, I think that I took the course which was
in effect the most prudent, for the cheerfulness of
spirits which I was thus enabled to retain dis-
couraged the yellow-winged angel, and prevented
him from taking a shot at me. I however so
far respected the opinion of the Europeans that I
avoided touching when I could do so without priva-
tion or inconvenience. This endeavour furnished
me with a sort of amusement as I passed through
the streets. The usual mode of moving from place
to place in the city of Cairo is upon donkeys ;
of these great numbers are always in readiness,
with donkey-boys attached. I had two who con-
stantly (until one of them died of the plague)
waited at my door upon the chance of being
26o Eothen.
wanted. I found tliis way of moving about
exceedingly pleasant, .and never attempted any
other. I had only to mount my beast, and tell
my donkey-boy the point for wliich I was bound,
and instantly I began to glide on at a capital
pace. The streets of Cairo are not paved in any
way, but strewed with a dry sandy soil so deaden-
ing to sound, tbat the footfall of my donkey could
scarcely be heard. There is no trottoir, and as
you ride through the streets you mingle with the
people on foot : those who are in your way, upon
being warned by the shouts of the donkey-boy,
move very slightly aside so as to leave you a
narrow lane for your passage. Through this you
move at a gallop, gliding on delightfully in the
very midst of crowds without being inconveni-
enced or stopped for a moment ; it seems to you
that it is not the donkey but the donkey-boy who
wafts you along with his shouts through pleasant
groups, and air that comes thick with the fragrance
of burial spice. "Eh ! Slieik, — Eh ! Bint, — regga-
lek, — shumalek, &c. &c. — 0 old man, 0 virgin, get
out of the way on the right — 0 virgin, 0 old man,
get out of the way on the left, — this Englishman
comes, he comes, he comes ! " The narrow alley
which these shouts cleared for my passage made
it possible, though difficult, to go on for a long
way without touching a single person, and my
endeavours to avoid such contact were a sort of
Cairo and the Plastic. 26 1
■i>
game for me in my loneliness. If I got through
a street without being touched, I won ; if I was
touched, I lost, — lost a deuce of a stake according
to the theory of the Europeans ; but that I deemed
to be all nonsense, — I only lost that game, and
would certainly win the next.
There is not much in the way of public build-
ings to admire at Cairo, but I saw one handsome
mosque, and to this an instructive history is at-
tached. A Hindostanee merchant, having amassed
an immense fortune, settled in Cairo, and soon
found that his riches in the then state of the
political world gave him vast power ic the city,
— power, however, the exercise of which was much
restrained by the counteracting influence of other
wealthy men. With a view to extinguish every
attempt at rivalry, the Hindostanee merchant built
this magnificent mosque at his own expense; when
the work was complete, he invited all the leading
men of the city to join him in prayer within the
walls of the newly-built temple, and he then caused
to be massacred all those who were sufficiently
influential to cause him any jealousy or uneasi-
ness,— in short, all the " respectable men " of the
place ; after this lie possessed undisputed power
in the city, and was greatly revered, — he is re-
vered to this day. It struck me that there was
a touching simplicity in the mode which this man
so successfully adopted for gaining the confidence
262 Eothen.
and goodwill of his fellow-citizens. There seems
to be some improbability in the story (though not
nearly so gross as it might appear to a European
ignorant of the East, for witness Mehemet All's
destruction of the Mamelukes, a closely similar act,
and attended with the like brilliant success ■^^") ;
but even if the story be false as a mere fact, it
is perfectly true as an illustration, — it is a true
exposition of the means by which the respect and
affection of orientals may be conciliated.
I ascended one day to the citadel, and gained
from its ramparts a superb view of the town. The
fanciful and elaborate gilt- work of the many min-
arets gives a light and florid grace to the city as
seen from this height ; but before you can look
for many seconds at such things, your eyes are
drawn westward — drawn westward and over the
Nile till they rest upon the massive enormities of
the Ghizeh pyramids.
I saw within the fortress many yoke of men all
haggard and woe -begone, and a kennel of very fine
lions well fed and flourishing : I say yolie of men,
for the poor fellows were working together in
bonds ; I say a kmnel of lions, for the beasts were
not enclosed in cages, but simply chained up like
dogs.
I went round the bazaars. It seemed to me
* Mehemet Ali invited the Mamehikes to a fenst, and murdered
tliem whilst preparing to enter the banquet-hall.
Cairo and the Plague. 263
that pipes and arms were cheaper here than at
Constantinople, and I should advise you therefore
if you reach both places to prefer the market of
Cairo. In the open slave-market I saw about fifty
girls exposed for sale, but all of them black or
" invisible " brown. A slave - agent took me to
some rooms in the upper story of the building,
and also into several obscure houses in the neigh-
bourhood, with a view to show me some white
women. The owners raised various objections to
the display of their ware, and well they might, for
I had not the least notion of purchasing : some
refused on account of the illegality of selling to
unbelievers,''^" and others declared that all trans-
actions of this sort were completely out of the
question as long as the plague was raging. I only
succeeded in seeing one white slave who was for
sale; but on this treasure the owner affected to set
an immense value, and raised my expectations to a
high pitch by saying that the girl was Circassian,
and was "fair as the full moon." There was a
good deal of delay, but at last I was led into a
long dreary room, and tliere, after marching timidly
forward for a few paces, I descried at the farther
end that mass of white linen which indicates an
Eastern woman. She was bid to uncover her face,
and I presently saw that, though very far from
being good - looking, according to my notion of
* It is not strictly lawful to sell white slaves to a Christian.
2^4 Eothen.
beauty, she had not been inaptly described by the
man who compared her to the full moon, for her
large face "was perfectly round and perfectly white.
Though very young, she was nevertheless extremely
fat. She gave me the idea of having been got up
for sale, — of having been fattened and whitened
by medicines or by some peculiar diet. I was
firmly determined not to see any more of her than
the face. She was perhaps disgusted at this my
virtuous resolve, as well as with my personal ap-
pearance,— perhaps she saw my distaste and dis-
appointment ; perhaps she wished to gain favour
with her owner by showing her attachment to his
faith : at all events she holloaed out very lustily
and very decidedly that " she would not be bought
by the infidel."
AVhilst I remained at Cairo, I thought it worth
while to see something of the magicians, because I
considered that these men were in some sort the
descendants of those who contended so stoutly
against the superior power of Aaron. I therefore
sent for an old man who was held to be the chief
of the magicians, and desired him to show me
the wonders of his art. The old man looked and
dressed his character exceedingly well ; the vast
turban, the flowing beard, and the ample robes
were all that one could wish in the way of ap-
pearance. The first experiment (a very stale one)
which he attempted to perform for me was that of
Cairo and the Plague. 265
showing the forms and faces of my absent friends —
not to me, but to a boy brought in from the streets
for the purpose, and said to be chosen at random.
A mangale (pan of burning charcoal) was brought
into my room, and the magician bending over it,
sprinkled upon the fire some substances consisting,
I suppose, of spices or sweetly-burning woods ; for
immediately a fragrant smoke arose that curled
around the bending form of the wizard, the while
that he pronounced his first incantations. When
these were over, the boy was made to sit down,
and a common green shade was bound over his
brow ; then the wizard took ink, and still continu-
ing his incantations, wrote certain mysterious figures
upon the boy's palm, and directed him to rivet his
attention to these marks without looking aside for
an instant. Again the incantations proceeded, and
after a while the boy, being seemingly a little agi-
tated, was asked whether he saw anything on the
palm of his hand. He declared that he saw — and
he described it rather minutely — a kind of military
procession with royal flags and warlike banners
flying. I was then called upon to name the
absent person whose form was to be made visible.
I named Keate. You were not at Eton, and I
must tell you, therefore, what manner of man it
was that I named, though I think you must have
some idea of him already : for wherever from utmost
Canada to Bundelcund — wherever there was the
266 Eothen.
whitewashed wall of an officer's room or of any
other apartment in which English gentlemen are
forced to kick their heels, there, likely enough (in
the days of his reign), the head of Keate would be
seen, scratched or drawn with those various degrees
of skill which one observes in the representation
of saints. Anybody without the least notion of
drawing could still draw a speaking, nay scolding
likeness of Keate. If you had no pencil, you
could draw him well enough with a poker, or the
leg of a chair, or the smoke of a candle. He was
little more (if more at all) than five feet in height,
and was not very great in girth, but within this
space was concentrated the pluck of ten battalions.
He had a really noble voice, and this he could mo-
dulate with great skill; but he had also the power of
quacking like an angry duck, and he almost always
adopted this mode of communication in order to
inspire respect. He was a capital scholar, but
his ingenuous learning had not " softened his man-
ners," and had "permitted them to be fierce" —
tremendously fierce. He had such a complete com-
mand over his temper — I mean, over his good
temper, that he scarcely ever allowed it to appear :
you could not put him out of humour — that is, out
of the ^'//-humour which he thought to be fitting
for a head-master. His red shaggy eyebrows were
so prominent, that he habitually used them as arms
and hands for the purpose of pointing out any ob-
Cairo and the Plagtie. 267
ject towards which he wished to direct attention ;
the rest of his features were equally striking in
their way, and were all and all his own. He wore
a fancy dress, partly resembling the costume of
Napoleon, and partly that of a widow woman.
I could not have named anybody more decidedly
differing in appearance from the rest of the human
race.
" Whom do you name ? " — " I name John Keate."
— " Now, what do you see ? " said the wizard to
the boy. — " I see," answered the boy, " I see a fair
girl with golden hair, blue eyes, pallid face, rosy
lips." There was a shot ! I shouted out my laugh-
ter with profane exultation, and the wizard per-
ceiving the grossness of his failure, declared that
the boy must have known sin (for none but the
innocent can see truth), and accordingly kicked
him down-stairs.
" One or two other boys were tried, but none
could " see truth."
Notwithstanding the failure of these experiments,
I wished to see what sort of mummery my magi-
cian would practise if I called upon him to show
me some performances of a higher order than those
already attempted. I therefore made a treaty with
him, in virtue of which he was to descend with me
into the tombs near the Pyramids, and there evoke
the devil. The negotiation lasted some time ; for
Dthemetri, as in duty bound, tried to beat down
268 Eothcn.
the wizard as much as he could, and the wizard on
his part manfully stuck up for his price, declaring
that to raise the devil was really no joke, and in-
sinuating that to do so was an awesome crime. I
let Dthemetri have his way in the negotiation, but
I felt in reality very indifferent about the sum to
be paid, and for this reason, namely, that the pay-
ment (except a very small present which I might
make, or not, as I chose) was to be contingent on
success. At length the bargain was finished, and it
was arranged that, after a few days to be allowed
for preparation, the wizard should raise the devil
for £2, 10s., play or pay — no devil, no piastres.
The wizard failed to keep his appointment. I
sent to know why the deuce he had not come to
raise the devil. The truth was that my Mahomet
had gone to the mountain. Tlie plague had seized
him, and he died.
Although the plague was now spreading quick
and terrible havoc around him, I did not see very
plainly any corresponding change in the looks of
the streets until the seventh day after my arrival :
I then first observed that the city was silenced.
There were no outward signs of despair nor of vio-
lent terror, but many of the voices that had swelled
the busy hum of men were already hushed in death,
and the survivors, so used to scream and screech
in their earnestness whenever they bought or sold,
now showed an unwonted indifference about the
Cairo and the Plague. 269
affairs of this world : it was less worth while for
men to haggle and haggle, and crack the slcy with
noisy bargains, when tlie Great Commander was
there who could " pay all their debts with the roll
of his drum."
At this time I was informed that of 25,000
people at Alexandria, 12,000 had died already;
the Destroyer had come rather later to Cairo, but
there was nothing of weariness in his strides. The
deaths came faster than ever they befell in the
plague of London ; but the calmness of orientals
under such visitations, and their habit of using
biers for interment instead of burpng coffins along
with the bodies, rendered it practicable to dispose
of the dead in the usual way, without shocking the
people by any unaccustomed spectacle of horror.
There was no tumbling of bodies into carts as in
the plague of Florence and the plague of London ;
every man, according to his station, was properly
buried, and that in the accustomed way, except
that he went to his grave at a pace more than
usually rapid.
The funerals pouring through the streets were
not the only public evidence of deaths. In Cr.iro
this custom prevails : At the instant of a man's
death (if his property is sufficient to justify the
expense) professional howlers are employed. I
believe that these persons are brought near to the
dying man when his end appears to be approach-
2 70 Eothen.
ing, and the moment that life is gone, they lift up
their voices and send forth a loud wail from the
chamber of death. Thus I knew when my near
neighbours died : sometimes the howls were near,
sometimes more distant. Once I was awakened
in the night by the wail of death in the next
house, and another time by a like howl from the
house opposite ; and there were two or three min-
utes, I recollect, during which the howl seemed to
be actually running along the street.
I happened to be rather teased at this time by
a sore throat, and I thought it would be well to
get it cured if I could before I again started on
my travels. I therefore inquired for a Frank doc-
tor, and was informed that the only one then at
Cau'o was a Bolognese refugee, a very young prac-
titioner, and so poor that he had not been able to
take flight as the other medical men had done.
At such a time as this it was out of the question
to send for a European physician ; a person thus
summoned would be sure to suppose that the pa-
tient was ill of the plague and would decline to
come. I therefore rode to the young doctor's
residence, ascended a flight or two of stairs, and
knocked at his door. iJ^o one came immediately,
but after some little delay the medico himself
opened the door and admitted me. I of course
made him understand that I had come to consult
him, but before entering upon my throat grievance,
Cairo and the Plague. 2 7 r
I accepted a chair, and exchanged a sentence or
two of commonplace conversation. Now the natu-
ral commonplace of the city at this season was of
a gloomy sort — " Come va la peste ? " (how goes
tlie plague ?), and this was precisely the question I
put. A deep sigh, and the words, " Sette cento per
giorno, signor " (seven hundred a-day), pronounced
in a tone of the deepest sadness and dejection, were
the answer I received. The day was not oppres-
sively hot, yet I saw that the doctor was transpiring
profusely, and even the outside surface of the thick
shawl dressing-gown in which he had wrapped him-
self appeared to be moist. He was a handsome,
pleasant-looking young fellow, but the deep melan-
choly of his tone did not tempt me to prolong the
conversation, and without further delay I requested
that my throat might be looked at. The medico
held my chin in the usual way, and examined my
throat ; he then wrote me a prescription, and al-
most immediately afterwards I bade him farewell ;
but as he conducted me towards the door, I ob-
served an expression of strange and unhappy watch-
fulness in his rolling eyes. It was not the next
day, but the next day but one, if I rightly remem-
ber, that I sent to request another interview with
my doctor. In due time Dthemetri, my messenger,
returned, looldng sadly aghast. He had "met the"^
medico," for so he phrased it, " coming out from
liis house — in a bier : "
272 Eothen.
It was of course plain that when the poor Bo-
lognese stood looking down my throat and almost
mingling his breath with mine, lie was already
stricken of the plague. I suppose that his violent
sweat must have been owing to some medicine ad-
ministered by himself in the faint hope of a cure.
The peculiar rolling of his eyes which I had re-
marked is, I believe, to experienced observers, a
pretty sure test of the plague. A Eussian ac-
quaintance of mine, speaking from the information
of men who had made the Turkish campaigns of
1828 and 1829, told me that by this sign the
officers of Sabalkansky's force were able to make
out the plague-stricken soldiers with a good deal
of certainty.
It so happened that most of the people with
whom I had anything to do during my stay at
Cairo were seized with plague , and all these died.
Since I had been for a long time en route before
I reached Egypt, and was about to start again for
another long journey over the Desert, there were
of course many little matters touching my ward-
robe and my travelling equipments which required
to be attended to whilst I remained in the city.
It happened so many times that Dthemetri's orders
in respect to these matters were frustrated by the
deaths of the tradespeople and others wliom he em-
ployed, that at last I became quite accustomed to
the peculiar manner of tlie man when he prepared
Cairo and the Plagtie. 273
to announce a new death to me. The poor fellow
naturally supposed that I should feel some uneasi-
ness at hearing of the "accidents" continually-
happening to persons employed by me, and he
therefore communicated their deaths as though
they were the deaths of friends ; he would cast
down his eyes, and look like a man abashed, and
tlien gently and with a mournful gesture allow the
words " ]\Iorto, signer," to come through his lips.
I don't know how many of such instances occurred,
but they were several; and besides these (as I told
you before), my banker, my doctor, my landlord,
and my magician, all died of the plague. A lad
who acted as a helper in the house I occupied lost
a brother and a sister within a few hours. Out of
my two established donkey-boys one died. I did
not hear of any instance in which a plague-stricken
patient had recovered.
Going out one morning, I met unexpectedly the
scorching breath of the Khamseen wind, and fear-
ing that T should faint under the infliction, I re-
turned to my rooms. Reflecting, however, that I
might have to encounter this wind in the Desert,
where there would be no possibility of avoiding it,
I thought it would be better to brave it once more
in the city, and to try whether I could really bear
it or not. I therefore mounted my ass, and rode
to old Cairo and along the gardens by the banks of
the Nile. The wind was hot to the touch, as though
2/4 Eothen.
it came from a furnace ; it blew strongly, but yet
with such perfect steadiness that the trees bending
under its force remained fixed in the same curves
without percepti})ly waving ; the whole sky was ob-
scured by a veil of yellowish grey that shut out the
face of the sun. The streets were utterly silent,
being indeed almost entirely deserted; and not with-
out cause, for the scorching blast, whilst it fevers the
blood, closes up the pores of the skin, and is terri-
bly distressing therefore to every animal that en-
counters it. I returned to my rooms dreadfully ill.
My head ached with a burning pain, and my pulse
bounded quick and fitfully, but perhaps (as in the
instance of the poor Levantine whose death I was
mentioning) the fear and excitement I felt in try-
ing my own wrist may have made my blood flutter
the faster.
It is a thoroughly well - believed theory that,
during the continuance of the plague, you can't be
ill of any other febrile malady ; an unpleasant priv-
ilege that ! For ill I was, and ill of fever • and I
anxiously wished that the ailment might turn out
to be anything rather than plague. I had some
right to surmise that my illness might have been
merely the effect of the hot wind ; and this notion
was encouraged by the elasticity of my spirits, and
by a strong forefeeling that much of my destined
life in this world was yet to come, and yet to be
fulfilled. That was my instinctive belief ; but
Cairo and the Plague. 275
when I carefully -weighed the probabilities on the
one side and on the other, I could not help seeing
that the strength of argument was all against me.
There was a strong antecedent likelihood in favour
of my being struck by the same blow as the rest
of the people who had been dying around me.
Besides, it occurred to me that, after all, the uni-
versal opinion of the Europeans upon a medical
question, such as that of contagion, might prob-
ably be correct ; and if it were, I was so thoroughly
" compromised," especially by the touch and breath
of the dying medico, that I had no right to expect
any other fate than that which now seemed to
have overtaken me. Balancing, then, as well as I
could, all the considerations suggested by hope and
fear, I slowly and reluctantly came to the conclu-
sion that, according to all merely reasonable prob-
ability, the plague had come upon me.
You might suppose that this conviction would
have induced me to write a few farewell lines to
those who were de'arest, and that having done that,
I should have turned my thoughts towards the
world to come. Such, however, was not the case ;
I believe that the prospect of death often brings
with it strong anxieties about matters of compara-
tively trivial import, and certainly with me the
whole energy of the mind was directed towards
the one petty object of concealing my illness until
the latest possible moment — until the delirious
276 Eothen.
stage. I did not believe that either Mysseri or
Dthemetri, who had served me so faithfully in all
trials, "wonld have deserted me (as most Europeans
are wont to do) when they knew that I was stricken
by plague ; but I shrank from the idea of putting
them to this test, and I dreaded the consternation
which the knowledge of my illness would be sure
to occasion.
I was very ill indeed at the moment when my
dinner was served, and my soul sickened at the
sight of the food, but I had luckily the habit of
dispensing with the attendance of servants during
my meal, and as soon as I was left alone, I made
a melancholy calculation of the quantity of food I
should have eaten if I had been in my usual health,
and filled my plates accordingly, and gave myself
salt, and so on, as though I were going to dine ; I
then transferred the viands to a piece of the omni-
present ' Times ' newspaper, and hid them away in
a cupboard, for it was not yet night, and I dared
not to throw the food into the street until darkness
came. 1 did not at all relish this process of ficti-
tious dining, but at length the cloth was removed,
and I gladly reclined on my divan (I would not
lie down) with the ' Arabian Nights ' in my hand.
I had a feeling that tea would be a capital thing
for me, but I would not order it until the usual
hour. When at last the time came, T drank deep
Cairo and the Plag7ic. 277
draughts from the fragrant cup. The effect was
almost instantaneous. A plenteous sweat burst
through my skin, and watered my clothes through
and through. I kept myself thickly covered.
The hot tormenting weight wliich had been load-
ing my brain was slowly heaved away. The
fever was extinguished. I felt a new buoyancy of
spirits, and an unusual activity of mind. I went
into my bed under a load of thick covering, and
when the morning came and I asked myself how I
was, I answered, " Perfectly well."
I was very anxious to procure, if possible, some
medical advice for Mysseri, whose illness prevented
my departure. Every one of the European prac-
tising doctors, of whom there had been many, had
either died or fled ; it was said, however, that there
was an Englishman in the medical service of the
Pasha who quietly remained at his post, but that
he never engaged in private practice. I deter-
mined to try if I could obtain assistance in this
quarter. I did not venture at first, and at such a
time as this, to ask him to visit a servant who was
prostrate on the bed of sickness ; but tliinking that
I might thus gain an opportunity of persuading
him to attend Mysseri, I wrote a note mentioning
my own affair of the sore throat, and asking for
the benefit of his medical advice. He instantly
followed back my messenger, and was at once
278 Eothen.
shown up into my room. I entreated him to stand
off, telling him fairly how deeply I was " compro-
mised," and especially by my contact with a person
actually ill and since dead of plague. The gen-
erous fellow, with a good-humoured laugh at the
terrors of the contagionists, marched straight up to
me and forcibly seized my hand, and shook it with
manly violence. I felt grateful indeed, and swelled
with fresh pride of race, because that my country-
man could carry himself so nobly. He soon cured
Mysseri, as well as me; and all this he did from no
other motives than the pleasure of doing a kindness
and the delight of braving a danger.
At length the great difficulty'^'' I had had in
procuring beasts for my departure was overcome,
and now, too, I was to have the new excitement
of travelling on dromedaries. With two of these
beasts, and three camels, I gladly wound my way
from out of the pest-stricken city. As I passed
through the streets, I observed a grave elder
stretching forth his arms, and lifting up his voice
in a speech which seemed to have some reference
to me. Eequiring an interpretation, I found that
the man had said, " The Pasha seeks camels, and
he finds them not ; the Englishman says, ' Let
camels be brought,' and behold ! there they are."
* The difficulty was occasioned by the immense exertions which
the Pasha was making to collect camels for military purposes.
Cairo a7id the Plague. 279
I no sooner breathed the free wholesome air of
the Desert, than I felt that a great burthen, wliich
I had been scarcely conscious of bearing, was lifted
away from my mind. For nearly three weeks I
had lived under peril of death : the peril ceased,
and not till then did I know how much alarm and
anxiety I had really been suffering.
28o
CHAPTER XIX.
THE PYRAMIDS.
I WENT to see and to explore the Pyramids.
Familiar to one from the days of early childhood
are the forms of the Egyptian Pyramids, and now,
as I approached them from the hanks of the Nile,
I had no print, no picture before me, and yet the
old shapes were there ; there was no change :
they were just as I had always known them. I
straightened myself in my stirrups, and strived
to persuade my understanding that this was real
Egpyt, and that those angles which stood up be-
tween me and the West were of harder stuff", and
more ancient than the paper pyramids of the green
portfolio. Yet it was not till I came to the base
of the great Pyramid, that reality began to weigh
upon my mind. Strange to say, the bigness of
the distinct blocks of stones was the first sign by
which I attained to feel the immensity of the
whole pile. When I came, and trod, and touched
with my hands, and climbed, in order that by
Th e Pyrani ids. 2 8 1
cliuibing I might come to the top of one single
stone, then, and almost suddenly, a cold sense and
understanding of the Pyramid's enormity came
down overcasting my brain.
Now try to endure this homely, sick nursish
illustration of the effect produced upon one's mind
by the mere vastness of the great Pyramid. When
I was very young (between the ages, I believe, of
three and five years old), being then of delicate
health, I was often in time of night the victim of
a strange kind of mental oppression. I lay in my
bed perfectly conscious, and with open eyes, but
without power to speak or to move, and all the
while my brain was oppressed to distraction by the
presence of a single and abstract idea, — the idea of
solid immensity. It seemed to me in my agonies,
that the horror of this visitation arose from its
coming upon me without form or shape — that the
close presence of the direst monster ever bred
in hell would have been a thousand times more
tolerable than that simple idea of solid size ; my
aching mind was fixed and riveted down upon the
mere quality of vastness, vastness, vastness ; and
was not permitted to invest with it any particular
object. If I could have done so, the torment
would have ceased. When at last I was roused
from this state of suffering, I could not of course
in those days (knowing no verbal metaphysics, and
no metaphysics at all, except by the dreadful
282 Eothen.
experience of an abstract idea)^[ could not of
course find words to describe the nature of my
sensations; and even now I cannot explain why it
is that the forced contemplation of a mere quality,
distinct from matter, should be so terrible. Well,
now my eyes saw and knew, and my hands and
my feet informed my understanding, that there
was nothing at all abstract about the great Pyra-
mid,— it was a big triangle, sufficiently concrete,
easy to see, and rough to the touch ; it could not
of course affect me with the peculiar sensation I
have been talking of, but yet there was something
akin to that old nightmare agony in the terrible
completeness with which a mere mass of masonry
could fill and load my mind.
And Time too ; the remoteness of its origin, no
less than the enormity of its proportions, screens an
Egyptian pyramid from the easy and familiar con-
tact of our modern minds. At its base the common
earth ends, and all above is a world, — one not
created of God, — not seeming to be made by men's
hands, but rather the sheer giant- work of some old
dismal age weighing down this younger planet.
Fine sayings ! But the truth seems to be, after
all, that the Pyramids are quite of this world;
that they were piled up into the air for the realisa-
tion of some kingly crotchets about immortality, —
some priestly longing for burial fees ; and that as
for the building — they were built like coral rocks
The Pyramids. 283
by swarms of insects, — by swarms of poor Egyp-
tians, who were not only the abject tools and slaves
of power, but who also ate onions for the reward
of their immortal labours ! '"" The Pyramids are
quite of this world.
I of course ascended to the summit of the great
Pyramid, and also explored its chambers ; but these
I need not describe. The first time that I went to
the Pyramids of Ghizeh, there were a number of
Arabs hanging about in its neighbourhood, and
wanting to receive presents on various pretences :
their sheik was with them. There was also present
an ill-looking fellow in soldier's uniform. This man
on my departure claimed a reward, on the ground
that he had maintained order and decorum amongst
the Arabs. His claim was not considered valid by
my dragoman, and was rejected accordingly. My
donkey-boys afterwards said they had overheard
this fellow propose to the sheik to put me to
death whilst I was in the interior of the great
Pyramid, and to share with him the booty. Fancy
a struggle for life in one of those burial chambers,
with acres and acres of solid masonry between
one's self and the daylight ! I felt exceedingly glad
that I had not made the rascal a present.
I visited the very ancient Pyramids of Aboucir
and Sakkara. There are many of tliese, differing
* Herodotus, in an after age, stood Ly with his note-book, and
got, as he thought, the exact returns of all the rations served out.
284 Eothen.
the one from the other in shape as well as size ;
and it struck me that taken together they might be
looked upon as showing the progress and perfection
(such as it is) of pyramidical architecture. One of
the pyramids at Sakkara is almost a rival for the
full-grown monster at Ghizeh ; others are scarcely
more than vast heaps of brick and stone ; and these
last suffgested to me the idea that after all the
Pyramid is nothing more nor less than a variety of
the sepulchral mound so common in most countries
(including, I believe, Hindostan, from whence the
Egyptians are supposed to have come). Men ac-
customed to raise these structures for then* dead
kings or conquerors would carry the usage with
them in their migrations ; but arriving in Egypt,
and seeing the impossibility of finding earth suffi-
ciently tenacious for a mound, they would approxi-
mate as nearly as might be to their ancient custom
by raising up a round heap of stones, in short conical
pyramids. Of these there are several at Sakkara,
and the materials of some are thrown together with-
out any order or regularity. The transition from
this simple form to that of the square angular
pyramid was easy and natural ; and it seemed to
me that the gradations through which the style
passed from infancy up to its mature enormity
could plainly be traced at Sakkara.
285
CHAPTER XX.
THE SPHYNX.
And near the Pyramids, more wondrous and
more awful than all else in the land of Eg}'pt, there
sits the lonely Sphynx. Comely the creature is,
but the comeliness is not of this world : the once
worshipped beast is a deformity and a monster to
this generation ; and yet you can see that those
lips, so thick and heavy, were fashioned according
to some ancient mould of beauty — some mould
of beauty now forgotten — forgotten because that
Greece drew forth Cytherea from the flashing foam
of the ^gean, and in her image created new forms
of beauty, and made it a law among men that the
short and proudly-wreathed lip should stand for
the sign and the main condition of loveliness
through all generations to come. Yet still there
lives on the race of those who were beautiful in
the fashion of the elder world ; and Christian girls
of Coptic blood will look on you with the sad,
286 Eothe7i.
serious gaze, and kiss you your charitable hand
with the big pouting lips of the very Sphynx.
Laugh and mock if you will at the worship of
stone idols ; but mark ye this, ye breakers of
images, that in one regard, the stone idol bears
awful semblance of Deity — unchangefulness in the
midst of change — the same seeming will and in-
tent for ever and ever inexorable ! Upon ancient
dynasties of Ethiopian and Egjrptian kings — upon
Greek and Eoman, upon Arab and Ottoman con-
querors— upon Napoleon dreaming of an Eastern
empire — upon battle and pestilence — upon the
ceaseless misery of the Egyptian race — upon keen-
eyed travellers — Herodotus yesterday, and War-
burton to-day, — upon all and more this unworldly
Sphynx has watched, and watched like a Providence
with the same earnest eyes, and the same sad, tran-
quil mien. And we, we shall die, and Islam will
wither away ; and the Englishman, straining far
over to hold his loved India, will plant a firm foot
on the banks of the Nile and sit in the seats of
the Faithful, and stOl that sleepless rock will lie
watching and watching the works of the new busy
race, with those same sad earnest eyes, and the
same tranquil mien everlasting. You dare not
mock at the Sphynx.
28;
CHAPTER XXI.
CAIRO TO SUEZ.
The " dromedaiy " of Egypt and Syria is not tlie
two -Lumped animal described by that name in
books of natural history, but is in fact of the same
family as the camel, standing towards his more
clumsy fellow-slave in about the same relation as
a racer to a cart-horse. The fleetness and endur-
ance of this creature are extraordinary. It is not
usual to force him into a gallop, and I fancy, from
his make, that it would be quite impossible for
him to maintain that pace for any length of time ;
but the animal is on so large a scale, that the jog-
trot at which he is generally ridden implies a
progress of perhaps ten or twelve miles an hour,
and this pace, it is said, he can keep up incessant-
ly, without food or water or rest, for three whole
days and nights.
Of the two dromedaries which I had obtained
for this journey, I mounted one myself and put
Dthemetri on the other. My plan was to ride on
28S Eothen.
■with Dthemetri to Suez as rapidly as the fleetness
of the beasts would allow, and to let Mysseri (then
still remaining weak from the effects of his late
illness) come quietly on with the camels and
baggage.
The trot of the dromedary is a pace terribly
disagreeable to the rider, until he becomes a little
accustomed to it ; but after the first half-hour I
so far schooled myself to this new exercise that I
felt capable of keeping it up (though not without
aching limbs) for several hours together. Now,
therefore, I was anxious to dart forward and annihi-
late at once the whole space that divided me from
the Eed Sea. Dthemetri, however, could not get
on at all : every attempt at trotting seemed to
threaten the utter dislocation of his whole frame ;
and indeed I doubt whether any one of Dthemetri's
ao-e (nearly forty, I think), and unaccustomed to
such exercise, could have borne it at all easily.
Besides, the dromedary which fell to his lot was
evidently a very bad one ; he every now and then
came to a dead stop, and coolly knelt down, as
though suggesting that the rider had better get off
at once, and abandon the experiment as one that
was utterly hopeless.
When for the third or fourth time T saw Dthe-
metri thus planted, I lost my patience and went
on without him. For about two hours, I think, I
advanced without once looking behind me. I
Cairo to Suez. 289
then paused, and cast my eyes back to the western
horizon. There was no sign of Dthemetri, nor of
any other living creature. This I expected, for I
knew that 1 must have far out-distanced all my
followers. I had ridden away from my party
merely by way of humouring my impatience, and
with the intention of stopping as soon as I felt
tired, until I was overtaken. I now observed,
however (this I had not been able to do whilst
advancing so rapidly), that the track which I had
been following was seemingly the track of only
one or two camels. I did not fear that I had
diverged very largely from the true route, but
still I could not feel any reasonable certainty that
my party would follow any line of march within
sight of me.
I had to consider, therefore, whether I should
remain where I was upon the chance of seeing
my people come up, or whether I should push
on alone, and find my own way to Suez. I had
now learned that I could not rely upon the con-
tinued guidance of any track, but I knew that
(if maps were right) the point for which I was
bound bore just due east of Cairo, and I thought
that, although I might miss the line leading most
directly to Suez, I could not well fail to find my
way sooner or later to the Eed Sea. The worst of
it was that I had no provision of food or water
with me, and already 1 was beginning to feel
T
290 Eotken.
thirst. I deliberated for a minute, and then de-
termined that I would "abandon all hope of seeing
my party again in the Desert, and would push
forward as rapidly as possible towards Suez.
It was not without a sensation of awe that I
swept with my sight the vacant round of the
horizon, and remembered that 1 was all alone
and unprovisioned in the midst of the arid waste ;
but this very awe gave tone and zest to the exul-
tation with which I felt myself launched. Hitherto
in all my wanderings I had been under the care
of other people — sailors, Tatars, guides, and drag-
omen had watched over my welfare ; but now, at
last, I was here in this African desert, and I my-
self, and no other, had charge of my life. I liked
the office well : I had the greatest part of the
day before me, a very fair dromedary, a fur
pelisse, and a brace of pistols, but no bread, and
worst of all, no water ; for that I must ride, —
and ride I did.
For several hours I urged forward my beast at
a rapid though steady pace, but at length the
pangs of thirst began to torment me. I did not
relax my pace, however; and I had not suffered
long, when a moving object appeared in the dis-
tance before me. The intervening space was soon
traversed, and I found myself approaching a
Bedouin Arab, mounted on a camel, attended by
another Bedouin on foot. They stopped. I saw
Cairo to Suez. 291
that there hung from the pack-saddle of the camel
one of the large skin water-flasks commonly carried
in the Desert, and it seemed to be well filled. I
steered my dromedary close up alongside of the
mounted Bedouin, caused my beast to kneel down,
then alighted, and keeping the end of the halter
in my hand, went up to the mounted Bedouin
without speaking, took hold of his water -flask,
opened it, and drank long and deep from its
leathern lips. Both of the Bedouins stood fast
in amazement and mute horror ; and really if they
had never happened to see a European before,
the apparition was enough to startle them. To
see for the first time a coat and a waistcoat with
the semblance of a white human face at the top,
and for this ghastly figure to come swiftly out
of the horizon, upon a fleet dromedary — approach
them silently, and with a demoniacal snule, and
drink a deep draught from their water-flask — this
was enough to make the Bedouins stare a little ;
they, in fact, stared a great deal — not as Europeans
stare with a restless and puzzled expression of
countenance, but with features all fixed and rigid,
and with still glassy eyes. Before they had time
to get decomposed from their state of petrifaction,
I had remounted my dromedary, and was darting
away towards the east.
Without pause or remission of pace, I continued
to press forward ; but after a while, I found to m}'
292 Eothen.
confusion that the slight track which had hitherto
guided me now failed altogether. I began to fear
that I must have been all along following the
course of some wandering Bedouins, and I felt
that if this were the case, my fate was a little
uncertain.
I had no compass with me, but I determined
upon the eastern point of the horizon as accurately
as I could by reference to the sun, and so laid
down for myself a way over the pathless sands.
But now my poor dromedary, by whose life and
strength I held my own, she began to show signs
of distress ; a thick, clammy, and glutinous kind of
foam gathered about her lips, and piteous sobs
burst from her bosom in the tones of human
misery. I doubted for a moment whether I
would give her a little rest or relaxation of pace,
but I decided that I would not, and continued
to push forward as steadily as before.
The character of the country became changed ;
I had ridden away from the level tracts, and
before me now, and on either side, there were
vast hills of sand and calcined rocks that inter-
rupted my progress and baffled my doubtful road,
but I did my best. With rapid steps I swept
round the base of the hills, threaded the winding
hollows, and at last, as I rose in my swift course
to the crest of a lofty ridge, Thalatta ! Thalatta I
the sea — the sea was before me '
Cairo to Suez. 293
It has been given me to know the true pitli,
and to feel the power of ancient pagan creeds, and
so (distinctly from all mere admiration of the
beauty belonging to Nature's works) I acknow-
ledge a sense of mystical reverence when first I
approached some illustrious feature of the globe
— some coast-line of ocean — some mighty river
or dreary mountain -range, the ancient barrier of
kingdoms. But the Eed Sea ! It might well
claim my earnest gaze by force of the great
Jewish migration which connects it with the
history of our own religion. From this very
ridge, it is likely enough, the panting Israelites
first saw that shining inlet of the sea. Ay ! ay !
but moreover, and best of all, that beckoning sea
assured my eyes, and proved how well I had
marked out the east for my path, and gave me
good promise that sooner or later the time would
come for me to drink of water cool and plenteous,
and then lie down and rest. It was distant, the
sea, but I felt my own strength, and I had heard
of the strength of dromedaries. I pushed forward
as eagerly as though I had spoiled the Egyptians,
and were flying from Pharaoh's police.
I had not yet been able to see any mark of
distant Suez, but after a while I descried far away
in the east a large, blank, isolated building. I
made toward this, and in time got down to it.
The building was a fort, and had been built there
294 Eothe7i.
for the protection of a "well contained within its
precincts. A cluster of .small huts adhered to the
fort, and in a short time I was receiving the
hospitality of the inhabitants, a score or so of
people who sat grouped upon the sands near their
hamlet. To quench the fires of my throat with
about a gallon of muddy water, and to swallow a
little of the food placed before me, was the work
of a few minutes ; and before the astonishment of
my hosts had even begun to subside, I was pur-
suing my onward journey, Suez, I found, was
still three hours distant, and the sun going down
in the west warned me that I must find some other
guide to keep me straight. This guide I found in
the most fickle and uncertain of the elements.
For some hours the wind had been freshening,
and it now blew a violent gale ; it blew — not
fitfully and in squalls, but with such steadiness
that I felt convinced it would blow from the same
quarter for several hours ; so when the sun set, I
carefully looked for the point whence the wind
came, and found that it blew from the very west
— blew exactly in the direction of my route. I
had nothing to do, therefore, but to go straight
to leeward, and this I found easy enough, for the
gale was blowing so hard that, if I diverged at
all from my course, I instantly felt the pressure
of the blast on the side towards which I had
deviated. Very soon after sunset there came on
Cairo to Suez. 295
complete darkness, but the strong wind guided me
well, and sped me too on my way.
I had pushed on for about, I think, a couple of
hours after nightfall, when I saw the glimmer of a
light in the distance, and this I ventured to hope
must be Suez. Upon approaching it, however, I
found that it was only a solitary fort, and this I
passed by without stopping.
On I went, still riding down the wind, but at
last an unlucky misfortune befell me — a mis-
fortune so absurd that, if you like, you shall
have your laugh against me. I have told you
already what sort of lodging it is that you have
upon the back of a camel. You ride the drome-
dary in the same fashion ; you are perched rather
than seated on a bunch of carpets or quilts upon
the summit of the hump. It happened that my
dromedary veered rather suddenly from her on-
ward course. Meeting the movement, I mechani-
cally turned my left wrist as though I were holding
a bridle-rein, for the complete darkness prevented
my eyes from reminding me that I had nothing
but a halter in my hand. The expected resistance
failed, for the halter was hanging upon that side
of the dromedary's neck towards which I was
slightly leaning ; I toppled over, head -foremost,
and then went falling through air till my crown
came whang against the ground. And the ground
too was perfectly hard (compacted sand), but my
296 Eothen.
thickly wadded head-gear (this I wore for protec-
tion against the sun) now stood me in good part
and saved my life. The notion of my being able
to get up again after falling head-foremost from
such an immense height, seemed to me at first
too paradoxical to be acted upon, but I soon
found that I was not a bit hurt. My dromedary
had utterly vanished ; I looked round me, and
saw the glimmer of a light in the fort which I
had lately passed, and I began to work my way
back in that direction. The violence of the gale
made it hard for me to force my way towards the
west, but I succeeded at last in regaining the fort.
To this, as to the other fort which I had passed,
there was attached a cluster of huts, and I soon
found myself surrounded by a group of villanous,
gloomy -looking fellows. It was sorry work for
me to swagger and look big at a time when I felt
so particularly small on account of my tumble and
my lost dromedary, but there was no help for it ;
I had no Dthemetri now to " strike terror " for me.
I knew hardly one word of Arabic, but somehow
or other I contrived to announce it as my absolute
will and pleasure that these fellows should find me
the means of gaining Suez. They acceded ; and
having a donkey, they saddled it for me, and
appointed one of their number to attend me on
foot.
I afterwards found that these fellows were not
Cairo to Suez. 297
Arabs, but Algerine refugees, and that they bore
the character of being sad scoundrels. They
justified this imputation to some extent on the
following day. They allowed Mysseri with my
baggage and the camels to pass unmolested, but
an Arab lad belonging to the party happened to
lag a little way in the rear, and him (if they were
not maligned) these rascals stripped and robbed.
Low indeed is the state of bandit morality, when
men will allow the sleek traveller with well-laden
camels to pass in quiet, reserving their spirit of
enterprise for the tattered turban of a miserable
boy.
I reached Suez at last. The British agent,
though roused from his midnight sleep, received
me in his home with the utmost kindness and
hospitality. Heaven ! how delightful it was to
lie on fair sheets, and to dally with sleep, and
to wake, and to sleep, and to wake once more,
for the sake of sleeping again !
298
CHAPTER XXII.
SUEZ.
I WAS hospitably entertained by the British con-
sul, or agent, as he is there styled ; he is the
employ^ of the East India Company, and not of
the Home Government. Napoleon, during his
stay of five days at Suez, had been the guest of
the consul's father ; and I was told that the divan
in my apartment had been the bed of the great
commander.
There are two opinions as to the point where
the Israelites passed the Eed Sea. One is that they
traversed only the very small creek at the northern
extremity of the inlet, and that they entered the
bed of the water at the spot on which Suez now
stands ; the other, that they crossed the sea from
a point eighteen miles down the coast. The Ox-
ford theologians who, with Milman their Professor,'''
believe that Jehovah conducted His chosen people
* See Milman's History of the Jews — first edition, Family
Library.
Suez. 299
without disturbing the order of nature, adopt the
first view, and suppose that the Israelites passed
during an ebb tide aided by a violent wind. One
among many objections to this supposition is, that
the time of a single ebb would not have been suffi-
cient for the passage of that vast multitude of men
and beasts, or even for a small fraction of it.
IVIoreover, the creek to the north of this point can
be compassed in an hour, and in two hours you
can make the circuit of the salt marsh over which
the sea may have extended in former times ; if,
therefore, the Israelites crossed so high up as Suez,
the Egyptians, unless infatuated by Divine inter-
ference, might easily have recovered their stolen
goods from the encumbered fugitives, by making a
slight detour. The opinion which fixes the point
of passage at eighteen miles' distance, and from
thence right across the ocean depths to the eastern
side of the sea, is supported by the unanimous
tradition of the people, whether Christians or
]\Iussulmans, and is consistent with Holy Writ :
" The waters were a wall unto them on their right
hand, and on their left." The Cambridge mathe-
maticians seem to think that the Israelites weie
enabled to pass over dry land by adopting a route
not usually subjected to the influx of the sea. This
notion is plausible in a mcie hydrostatical point of
view, but it is difficult to reconcile it with the
account given in Exodus, unless we can suppose
300 Eothcn.
that the words "sea" and "waters" are there used
in a sense implying dry land.
Napoleon, when at Suez, made an attempt to
follow the supposed steps of Moses by passing the
creek at this point ; but it seems, according to the
testimony of the people of Suez, that he and his
horsemen managed the matter in a way more re-
sembling the failure of the Egyptians than the
success of the Israelites. According to the French
account, Napoleon got out of the difficulty by that
warrior-like presence of mind which served him so
well when the fate of nations depended on the
decision of a moment ; he commanded his horse-
men to disperse in all directions, in order to
multiply the chances of finding shallow water, and
was thus enabled to discover a line by which he
and his people were extricated. The story told
by the people of Suez is very different : they de-
clare that Napoleon parted from his horse, got
water -logged and nearly drowned, and was only
fished out by the aid of the people on shore.
I bathed twice at the point assigned to the pas-
sage of the Israelites, and the second time that I
did so, I chose the time of low water and tried
to walk across ; but I soon found myself out of
my depths, or at least in water so deep that I
could only advance by swimming.
The dromedary which had bolted in the Desert
was brought into Suez the day of my arrival ; but
Suez. 30 r
the treasures attached to the saddle, including nay-
pelisse and my dearest pistols, had disappeared.
These things were of great importance to me at
that time, and I moved the governor of the town
to make all possible exertions for their recovery.
He acceded to my wishes as well as he could, and
very obligingly imprisoned the first seven poor
fellows he could lay his hands on.
At first the governor acted in the matter from
no other motive than that of courtesy to an Eng-
lish traveller; but afterwards, and when he saw the
value I set upon the lost property, he pushed his
measures with a degree of alacrity and heat which
seemed to show that he felt a personal interest in
the matter. It was supposed either that he ex-
pected a large present in the event of succeeding,
or that he was striving by all means to trace the
property in order that he might lay his hands on
it after my departure.
I went out sailing for some hours, and when I
returned I was horrified to find that two men had
been bastinadoed by order of the governor, with a
view to force them to a confession of their theft.
It appeai-ed, however, that there really was good
ground for supposing them guilty, since one of the
holsters was actually found in their possession.
It was said too (but I could hardly believe it), that
whilst one of the men was undergoing the basti-
nado, his comrade was overheard encouraging him
3© 2 Eothen.
to bear the torment without peaching. Both men,
if they had the secret, were resolute in keeping it,
and were sent back to their dungeon. I of course
took care that there should be no repetition of the
torture, at least so long as I remained at Suez.
The governor was a thorough oriental, and
until a comparatively recent period had shared in
the old Mahometan feeling of contempt for Euro-
peans. It happened, however, one day that an
English gun-brig had appeared off Suez, and sent
her boats ashore to take in fresh water. Now
fresh water at Suez is a somewhat scarce and
precious commodity ; it is kept in tanks, and the
largest of these is at some distance from the place.
Under these circumstances, the request for fresh
water was refused, or at all events was not com-
plied with. The captain of the brig was a simple-
minded man, with a strongish will, and he at once
declared that if his casks were not filled in three
hours he would destroy the whole place. " A
great people indeed ! " said the governor — " a
wonderful people, the English ! " He instantly
caused every cask to be filled to the brim from his
own tank, and ever afterwards entertained for our
countrymen a high degree of affection and respect.
The day after the abortive attempt to extract
a confession from the prisoners, the governor, the
consul, and I sat in council, I know not how
long, with a view of prosecuting the search for the
Suez. 303
stolen goods. The sitting, considered in the light
of a criminal investigation, was characteristic of
the East. The proceedings began, as a matter of
course, by the prosecutor's smoking a pipe and
drinking coffee with the judge, jury, and sheriff —
that is, with the governor, for in this one person-
age were vested almost all the functions connected
with the administration of injustice. I got on
very well with my host (this was not my first in-
terview), and he gave me the pipe from his lips in
testimony of his friendship. I recollect, however,
that my prime adviser, thinking me, I suppose,
a great deal too shy and retiring in my manner,
entreated me to put up my boots and to soil the
governor's divan, in order to inspire respect and
strike terror. 1 thought it would be as well for
me to retain the right of respecting myself, and
that it was not quite necessary for a well-received
guest to strike any terror at all.
Our deliberations were assisted by the numer-
ous attendants who lined the three sides of the
room not occupied by the divan. Any one of
these who took it into his head to offer a sugges-
tion would stand forward and humble himself be-
fore the governor, and then state his views ; every
man thus giving counsel was listened to with some
attention.
After a greal deal of fruitless planning, the
governor directed that the prisoners should be
304 Eothen.
brought in. I was shocked when they entered,
for I was not prepared to see them come carried
into the room upon the shoulders of others. It
had not occurred to me that their battered feet
would be too sore to bear the contact of the floor.
They persisted in asserting their innocence. The
governor wanted to recur to the torture, but that
I prevented, and the men were lifted back to their
dungeon.
One of the attendants now suggested a scheme
— a scheme which seemed to me most childishly
absurd, but nevertheless it was tried. A man
went down to the dungeon with instructions to
make the prisoneis believe that he had gained per-
mission to see them upon some invented pretext
and when the spy had thus won a little of their
confidence, he was to attempt a sham treaty with
them for the purchase of the stolen goods. This
shallow expedient failed.
The governor himself had not nominally the
power of life and death over the people in his
district, but he could if he chose send them to
Cairo, and have them hanged there. I proposed
that the prisoners should be threatened with tliis
i'ate. The answer of the governor made me feel
rather ashamed of my effeminate suggestion. He
said that if I wished it he would willingly threaten
them with death ; but he also declared that if he
threatened, he surely would maJce his words good.
Suez.
305
Thinking at last that nothing was to be gained
by keeping the prisoners any longer in confine-
ment, I requested that they might be set free.
To this the governor assented, though only, as he
said, out of favour to me, for he had a strong im-
pression that the men were guilty. I went down
to see the j)risoners let out with my own eyes.
They were very grateful, and fell down to the
earth kissing my boots. I gave them a present to
console them for their wounds, and they .seemed
to be highly delighted.
Although the matter ended in a manner so
satisfactory to the principal sufferers, there were
symptoms of some angry excitement in the place :
it was said that public opinion was much shocked
at the fact that Mahometans had been beaten on
account of a loss sustained by a Christian. My
journey was to recommence the next day ; and it
was hinted that if I persevered in my intention of
going forward into the Desert the people would
have an easy and profitable opportunity of wreak-
ing their vengeance on me. If ever they formed
any scheme of the kind, they at all events re-
frained from any attempt to carry it into effect.
One of the evenings during my stay at Suez
was enlivened by a triple wedding. There was a
long and slow procession. Some carried torches,
and others were thumping drums and firing pis-
u
3o6 Eothen.
tols. The bridegrooms came last, all walking
abreast. My only reason for mentioning the
ceremony is, that I scarcely ever in all my life saw
any phenomena so ridiculous as the meekness and
gravity of those three young men whilst being
"led to the altar."
)07
CHAPTER XXIIl.
SUEZ TO GAZA.
The route over the Desert from Suez to Gaza is
not frequented by merchants, and is seldom passed
by a traveller. This part of the country is less
uniformly barren than the tracts of shifting sand
that lie on the El Arish route. The shrubs yield-
ing food for the camel are more frequent, and in
many spots the sand is mingled with so much of
productive soil as to admit the growth of com.
The Bedouins are driven out of this district during
the summer by the want of water ; but before the
time for their forced departure arrives, they suc-
ceed in raising little crops of barley from these
comparatively fertile patches of ground. They bury
the fruit of their labours, and take care so to mark
the spot chosen, that when they return they can
easily find their hidden treasures. The warm dry
sand stands them for a safe granary. The coun-
try, at the time I passed it (in the month of April),
was pretty thickly sprinkled with Bedouins ex-
o
08 Eothe7i.
X^ecting their harvest ; several times my tent was
pitched alongside of their encampments; but I
have already told you all I wanted to tell about
the domestic — or rather the castral — life of the
Arabs.
I saw several creatures of the antelope kind in
this part of the Desert ; and one day my Arabs
surprised in her sleep a young gazelle (for so I
called her), and took the darling prisoner. I car-
ried her before me on my camel for the rest of the
day, and kept her in my tent all night ; I did all
I could to gain her affections, but the trembling
beauty refused to touch food, and would not be
comforted; whenever she had a seeming oppor-
tunity of escaping, she struggled with a violence
so painfully disproportioned to her fine delicate
limbs, that I could not go on with the cruel
attempt to make her my own. In the morning,
therefore, I set her loose, anticipating some plea-
sure from the joyous bound with which, as I
thought, she would return to her native freedom.
She had been so stupefied, however, by the ex-
citing events of the preceding day and night, and
was so puzzled as to the road she should take,
that she went off very deliberately, and with an
uncertain step. She was quite sound in limb, but
she looked so idiotic that I fancied her intellect
might have been really upset. Never, in all like-
lihood, had she seen the form of a human being
Suez to Gaza. 309
until the dreadful moment when shs woke from
her sleep and found herself in the gripe of an
Arab. Then her pitching and tossing journey
on the back of a camel, and, lastly, a soirie with
rae by candle-light ! I should have been glad to
know, if I could, that her heart was not broken.
]\Iy Arabs were somewhat excited one day by
discovering the fresh print of a foot, — the foot, as
they said, of a lion. I had no conception that
the lord of the forest (better known as a crest)
ever stalked away from his jungles to make in-
glorious war in these smooth plains against ante-
lopes and gazelles. I supposed that there must
have been some error of interpretation, and that
the Arabs meant to speak of a tiger. It appeared,
however, that this was not the case ; either the
Arabs were mistaken, or the noble brute uncooped
and unchained had but lately crossed my path.
The camels with which I traversed this part
of the Desert were very different in their ways
and habits from those that you hire on a fre-
quented route. They were never led. There was
not the slightest sign of a track in this part of the
Desert, but the camels never failed to choose the
right line. By the direction taken at starting,
they knew the point (some encampment, I sup-
pose) for which they were to make. There is
always a leading camel (generally, I believe, the
eldest) who marches foremost and determines the
3IO Eothen.
path for the whole party. When it happens that
no one of the camels has been accustomed to lead
the others, there is very great difficulty in making
a start ; if you force your beast forward for a
moment, he will contrive to wheel and draw back,
at the same time looking at one of the other
camels with an expression and gesture exactly
equivalent to " apr^s vous." The responsibility
of finding the way is evidently assumed very
unwillingly. After some time, however, it be-
comes understood that one of the beasts has reluc-
tantly consented to take the lead, and he accord-
ingly advances for that purpose. For a minute
or two he marches with great indecision, taking
first one line and then another ; but soon, by the
aid of some mysterious sense, he discovers the
true direction, and thenceforward keeps to it
steadily, going on from morning to night. When
once the leadership is established, you cannot by
any persuasion, and scarcely even by blows, induce
a junior camel to walk one single step in advance
of the chosen guide.
On the fifth day I came to an oasis, called the
Wady el Arish, a ravine, or rather a gully ; through
this during the greater part of the year there runs
a stream of water. On the sides of the gully there
were a number of those graceful trees which the
Arabs call tarfa. The channel of the stream was
quite dry in the part at which we arrived ; but at
Siiez to Gaza. 3 r i
about half a mile off some water was found, and
this, though very muddy, was tolerably sweet.
Here was indeed a happy discovery, for all the
water we had brought from tlie neighbourhood
of Suez was rapidly putrefying.
The want of foresight is an anomalous part of
the Bedouin's character, for it does not result either
from recklessness or stupidity. I know of no hu-
man being whose body is so thoroughly the slave
of mind as the Arab. His mental anxieties seem
to be for ever torturing every nerve and fibre of
his body, and yet, with all this exquisite sensitive-
ness to the suggestions of the mind, he is grossly
improvident. I recollect, for instance, that when
setting out upon this passage of the Desert, my
Arabs (in order to lighten the burthen of their
camels) were most anxious that we should take
with us no more than two days' supply of water.
They said that by the time that supply was ex-
hausted, we should arrive at a spring which would
furnish us for the rest of the journey. My servants
very wisely, and with much pertinacity, resisted
the adoption of this plan, and took care to have
both the large skins well filled. We went on ai^d
found no water at all, either at the expected spring
or for many days afterwards, so that nothing but
the precaution of my own people saved us from
the very severe suffering which we should have
endured if we had entered upon the Desert with
312 Eothen.
only a two days' supply. The Arabs themselves,
being on foot, would have suffered much more than
I from the consequences of their improvidence.
This want of foresight prevents the Bedouin
from appreciating at a distance of eight or ten
days the amount of the misery which he entails
upon himself at the end of that period. His dread
of a city is one of the most painful mental affec-
tions that I have ever observed, and yet when the
whole breadth of the Desert lies between him and
the town you are going to, he will freely enter into
an agreement to land, you in the city for which
you are bound. When, however, after many a
day of toil, the distant minarets at length appear,
the poor Bedouin relaxes the vigour of his pace —
his steps become faltering and undecided — every
moment his uneasiness increases, and at length he
fairly sobs aloud, and embracing your knees, im-
plores, with the most piteous cries and gestures,
that you will dispense with him and his camels,
and find some other means of entering the city.
This, of course, one can't agree to, and the conse-
quence is, that one is obliged to witness and resist
the most moving expressions of grief and fond
entreaty. I had to go through a most painful
scene of this kind when I entered Cairo, and
now the horror which these wilder Arabs felt at
the notion of entering Gaza led to consequences
still more distressing. The dread of cities results
Stiez to Gaza.
o»o
partly from a kind of wild instinct which has
always characterised the descendants of Ishmael,
but partly, too, from a well-founded apprehension
of ill-treatment. So often it befalls tlie poor Be-
douin (when once entrapped between walls) to be
seized by the Government authorities for the sake
of his camels, that his innate horror of cities be-
comes really justified by results.
The Bedouins with whom I performed this
journey were wild fellows of the Desert, quite
unaccustomed to let out themselves or their beasts
for hire ; and when they found that by the natu-
ral ascendancy of Europeans they were gradually
brought down to a state of subserviency to me,
or rather to my attendants, they bitterly repented,
I believe, of having placed themselves under our
control. They were rather difficult fellows to
manage, and gave Dthemetri a good deal of
trouble, but I liked them all the better for that,
Selim, the chief of the party, and the man to
whom all our camels belonged, was a fine, savage,
stately feUow. There were, I think, five other
Arabs of the party ; but when we approached the
end of the journey, they, one by one, began lo
make off towards the neighbouring encampments,
and by the time that the minarets of Gaza were
in sight, Selim, the owner of the camels, was
the only one who remained. He, poor fellow, as
we neared the town, began to discover the same
314 Eothen.
terrors that my Arabs had shown when I entered
Cairo. I could not possibly accede to his en-
treaties, and consent to let my baggage be laid
down on the bare sands, without any means of
having it brought on into the city. So at length,
when poor Selim had exhausted all his rhetoric of
voice and action and tears, he fixed his despairing
eyes for a minute upon the cherished beasts that
were his only wealth, and then suddenly and madly
dashed away into the farther Desert. I continued
my course and reached the city at last, but it was
not without immense difficulty that we could con-
strain the poor camels to pass under the hated
shadow of its walls. They were the genuine
beasts of the Desert, and it was sad and painful
to witness the agony they suffered when thus
they were forced to encounter the fixed habita-
tions of men. They shrank from the beginning
of every high narrow street as though from the
entrance of some horrible cave or bottomless pit ;
they sighed and wept like women. When at last
we got them within the courtyard of the khan,
they seemed to be quite broken-hearted, and
looked round piteously for their loving master ;
but no Selim came. I had imagined that he
would enter the town secretly by night, in order
to carry off those five fine camels, his only wealth
in this world, and seemingly the main objects of
his affection. But no — his dread of civilisation
Sues to Gaza. 3 1 5
was too strong. During the whole of the three
days that I remained at Gaza he failed to show
himself, and thus sacrificed in all probability, not
only his camels, but the money which I had stipu-
lated to pay him for the passage of the Desert. In
order, however, to do all I could towards saving
him from tliis last misfortune, I resorted to a
contrivance frequently adopted by the Asiatics.
I assembled a group of grave and worthy Mussul-
mans in the courtyard of the khan, and in their
presence paid over the gold to a sheik well known
in the place and accustomed to communicate with
the Arabs of the Desert. Then all present sol-
emnly promised that, if ever Selim should come to
claim his rights, they would bear true witness in
his favour.
I saw a great deal of my old friend the gov-
ernor of Gaza. lie had received orders to send
back all persons coming from Egypt, and force
them to perform quarantine at El Arish. He knew
so little of quarantine regulations, however, that
his dress was actually in contact with mine whilst
he insisted upon the stringency of the orders which
he had received. He was induced to make t*n
exception in my favour, and I rewarded him with
a musical snuff-box — a toy which I had bought
at Smyrna for the purpose of presenting it to any
man in authority who might happen to do me an
important service. The governor was delighted
3 1 6 Eothen.
with the gift, and in great exultation and glee, he
carried it off to his harem. Soon, however, poor
fellow, he returned with an altered countenance :
his wives, he said, had got hold of the box, and
had put it quite out of order. So short-lived is
human happiness in this frail world !
The governor fancied that he should incur less
risk if I remained at Gaza for two or three days
more, and he wanted me to become his guest. I
persuaded him, however, that it would be better
for him to let me depart at once. He wanted to
add to my baggage a roast lamb, and a quantity of
other cumbrous viands, but I escaped with half a
horse-load of leaven-bread ; this was very good of
its kind, and proved a most useful present. The
air with which the governor's slaves affected to be
almost breaking down under the weight of the
gifts, reminded me of the figures one sees in some
of the old pictures.
317
CHAPTER XXIV.
GAZA TO NABLOUS.
Passing now once again through Palestine and
Syria, I retained the tent which I had used in
the Desert, and found that it added very much
to my comfort in travelling. Instead of turning
out a family from some wi-etched dwelling, and
depriving them of rest without gaining rest for
myself, I now, when evening came, pitched my
tent upon some smiling spot within a few hundred
yards of the village to which I looked for my sup-
plies,— that is, for milk, for bread (if I had it not
with me), and sometimes also for eggs. The worst
of it was that the needful viands were not to he
obtained by coin, but only by intimidation. I at
first tried the usual agent — money. Dthemetri,
with one or two of my Arabs, went into the A^il-
lage near which I was encamped, and tried to buy
the required provisions, offering liberal payment,
but he came back empty-handed. I sent him
again, but this time he held different language :
3 1 8 Eothen.
he required to see the elders of the place, and
threatening di*eadful vengeance, commanded them
upon their responsibility to take care that my tent
should be immediately and abundantly supplied.
He was obeyed at once ; and the provisions re-
fused to me as a purchaser soon arrived, trebled
or quadrupled, when demanded by way of a forced
contribution. I quickly found (I think it required
two experiments to convince me) that this per-
emptory method was the only one which could
be adopted with success; it never failed. Of
course, however, when the provisions have been
actually obtained, you can, if you choose, give
money exceeding the value of the provisions to
somebody; an English — a thorough-bred English
traveller will always do this (though it is con-
trary to the custom of the country), for the quiet
(false quiet though it be) of his own conscience:
but so to order the matter that the poor fellows
who have been forced to contribute, should be the
persons to receive the value of their supplies, is
not possible ; for a traveller to attempt anything
so grossly just as that would be too outrageous.
The truth is that the usage of the East in old
times required the people of the village at their
own cost to supply the wants of travellers ; and
the ancient custom is now adhered to — not in
favour of travellers generally, but in favour of
those who are deemed sufficiently powerful to
Gaza to Nablous. 319
enforce its observance ; if the villagers, therefore,
find a man waiving this right to oppress them, and
offering coin for that which he is entitled to take
without payment, they suppose at once that he is
actuated by fear (fear of tliem, poor fellows !) ; and
it is so delightful to them to act upon this flatter-
ing assumption, that they will forego the advantage
of a good price for their provisions rather than the
rare luxury of refusing for once in their lives to
part with their own possessions.
The practice of intimidation thus rendered neces-
sary is utterly hateful to an Englishman. He finds
himself forced to conquer his daily bread by the
pompous threats of the dragoman, — his very sub-
sistence, as well as his dignity and personal safety,
being made to depend upon his servant's assuming
a tone of authority which does not at all belong
to him. Besides, he can scarcely fail to see that,
as he passes through the country, he becomes the
innocent cause of much extra injustice, — many
supernumerary wrongs. This he feels to be espe-
cially the case when he travels with relays. To
be the owner of a horse or a mule within reach
of an Asiatic potentate, is to lead the life of the
hare and the rabbit, — hunted down and ferreted
out. Too often it happens that the works of the
field are stopped in the day-time, that the inmates
of the cottage are roused from their midnight sleep,
by the sudden coming of a government officer ;
320 Eothen.
and the poor husbandman, driven by threats and
rewarded by curses, if he would not lose sight for
ever of his captured beasts, must quit all and
follow them. This is done that the Englishman
may travel. He would make his way more harm-
lessly if he could ; but horses or mules he must
have, and these are his ways and means.
The town of Nablous is beautiful. It lies in
a valley hemmed in with olive - groves, and its
buildings are interspersed with frequent palm-
trees. It is said to occupy the site of the an-
cient Sychem. I know not whether it was there,
indeed, that the father of the Jews was accus-
tomed to feed his flocks, but the valley is green
and smiling, and is held at this day by a race
more brave and beautiful than Jacob's unhappy
descendants.
Nablous is the very furnace of Mahometan
bigotry ; and I believe that only a few months
before the time of my going there, it would have
been madly rash for a man, unless strongly
guarded, to show himself to the people of the
town in a Frank costume ; but since their last
insurrection, the Mahometans of the place had
been so far subdued by the severity of Ibrahim
Pasha, that they dared not now offer the slightest
insult to a, European. It was quite plain, how-
ever, that the effort with wliich the men of tlie
old school refrained from expressing their opinion
Gaza to Nablo7ts. 321
of a hat and a coat was liorriliy j^ainful to them.
As I walked through the streets and bazaars, a
dead silence prevailed. Every man suspended his
employment, and gazed on me with a fixed glassy
look, which seemed to say, " God is good ; but how
marvellous and inscrutable are His ways that tlius
He permits this white-faced dog of a Christian to
hunt through the paths of the faithful ! "
The insurrection of these people had been more
formidable than any other that Ibrahim Pasha had
to contend with ; he was only able to crush them
at last by the assistance of a fellow renowned for
his resources in the way of stratagem and cun-
ning, as well as for his knowledge of the country.
Tliis personage "vvas no other than Aboo Goosh
(" the father of lies ")!'' The man had been sud-
denly taken out of prison, and sent into his native
hill-country, with orders to procreate a few choice
falsehoods and snares for entreapping tlie rebellious
mountaineers ; and he performed his function so
well that he quickly enabled Ibrahim to liem in
and extinguisli the insurrection. He was rewarded
with the governorship of Jerusalem, and this he
held when I was there. I recollect, by the by,
that he tried one of his stratagems upon me. I
* This is an appellation not implying blame, but merit ; the
"lies" which it purports to affiliate are feints and cunning strata-
gems rather than the baser kind of falsehoods. The expression,
in short, has nearly the same meaning as the English word
" Yorkshiremau."
X
32 2 Eothen.
had not gone to see him (as I ought in courtesy
to have done) upon my arrival at Jerusalem, but
I happened to be the owner of a rather handsome
amber tchibouque-Tpiece ; this the governor heard
of, and having also by some means contrived to
see it, he sent me a softly-worded message with
an offer to buy the pipe at a price immensely
exceeding the sum I had given for it. He did
not add my tchihouque to the rest of his trophies.
There was a small number of Greek Christians
resident in ISTablous, and over these the Mussul-
mans held a high hand, not even allowing them
to speak to each other in the open streets. But
if the Moslems thus set themselves abovl the
poor Christians of the place, I, or rather my ser-
vants, soon took the ascendant over them. I
recollect that just as we were starting from the
place, and at a time when a number of people
had gathered together in the main street to see
our preparations, Mysseri, being provoked at some
piece of perverseness on the part of a true be-
liever, coolly thrashed him with his horsewhip
before the assembled crowd of fanatics. I was
much annoyed at the time, for I thought that
the people would probably rise against us. They
turned rather pale, but stood still.
The day of my arrival at Nablous was af^te —
tlie New Year's Day of the Mussulmans.""' Most
* The 29th of April.
Gaza to Nabloiis. 323
of the people were amusing themselves in the
beautiful lawns and shady groves without the
city. The men were all remotely apart from the
other sex. The women in groups were diverting
themselves and their children with swings. They
were so handsome that they could not keep up
their yashmalcs ; I believed that they had never
before looked upon a man in the European dress,
and when they now saw in me that strange phe-
nomenon, and saw, too, how they could please
the creature by showing him a glimpse of beauty,
they seemed to think it more pleasant to do this
than to go on playing with swings. It was al-
ways, however, with a sort of zoological expression
of countenance that they looked on the horrible
monster from Europe ; and whenever one of them
gave me to see for one sweet instant the blushing
of her unveiled face, it was with the same kind
of air as that with which a young timid girl will
edge her way up to an elephant, and tremblingly
give him a nut from the tips of her rosy fingers.
)24
CHAPTER XXV.
MA.RIAM.
There is no spirit of propagandism in the Mus-
sulmans of the Ottoman dominions. True it is
that a prisoner of war, or a Christian condemned
to death, may on some occasions save his life by
adopting the religion of Mahomet, but instances
of this kind are now exceedingly rare, and are
quite at variance with the general system. Many
Europeans, I think, would be surprised to learn
that which is nevertheless quite true, namely, that
an attempt to disturb the religious repose of the
empire by the conversion of a Christian to the
Mahometan faith is positively illegal. The event
which now I am going to mention shows plainly
enough that the unlawfulness of such interference
is distinctly recognised even in one of the most
bigoted strongholds of Islam.
During my stay at Nablous I took up my
quarters at the house of the Greek " Papa," as
he is called — that is, the Greek priest. The priest
Maria7n. 325
himself had gone to Jerusalem upon the business
I am going to tell you of, but his wife remained
at Nablous, and did the honours of her home.
Soon after my arrival, a deputation from the
Greek Christians of the place came to request my
interference in a matter which had occasioned vast
excitement.
xVnd now I must tell you how it came to happen,
as it did continually, that people thought it worth
while to claim the assistance of a mere traveller,
who was totally devoid of all just pretensions to
authority or influence of even the humblest de-
scription ; and especially I must explain to you
how it was that the power thus attributed did
really in some measure belong to me, or rather
to my dragoman. Successive political convnlsions
had at length fairly loosed the people of Syria
from their former rules of conduct, and from all
their old habits of reliance. Mehemet Ali's suc-
cess in crushing the insurrection of the Mahometan
population had utterly beaten down the head of
Islam, and extinguished, for the time at least,
those virtues and vices which spring from the Ma-
hometan faith. Success so complete as Mehemet
Ali's, if it had been attained by an ordinary
Asiatic potentate, would have induced a notion of
stability. The readily bowing mind of the oriental
would have bowed low and long under the feet
of a conqueror whom God had thus strengthened.
320 Eothen.
But Syria was no field for contests strictly Asiatic
— Europe was involved ; and though the hea\'y
masses of Egyptian troops, clinging with strong
gripe to the land, might seem to hold it fast, yet
every peasant practically felt and knew that in
Vienna, or Petersburg, or London, there were four
or five pale-looking men who could pull down the
star of the Pasha with shreds of paper and ink.
The people of the country knew, too, that Mehemet
Ali was strong with the strength of the Europeans,
— strong by his French general, his Prench tactics,
and his English engines. Moreover, they saw that
the person, the property, and even the dignity of
the humblest European was guarded with the most
careful solicitude. The consequence of all this
was, that the people of Syria looked vaguely but
confidently to Europe for fresh changes : many
would fix upon some nation, France or England,
and steadfastly regard it as the arriving sovereign
of Syria. Those whose minds remained in doubt
equally contributed to this new state of public
opinion — a state of opinion no longer depending
upon religion and ancient habits, but upon bare
hopes and fears. Every man wanted to know, —
not who was his neighbour, but who was to be
his ruler ; whose feet he was to kiss, and by whom
his feet were to be ultimately beaten. Treat your
friend, says the proverb, as though lie were one day
to become your enemy, and your enemy as though
JMariani. 327
he were one day to become your friend. The
Syrians went further, and seemed inclined to treat
every stranger as though he might one day become
their Pasha. Such was the state of circumstances
and of feeling which now for the first time had
thoroughly opened the mind of "Western Asia for
the reception of Europeans and European ideas.
The credit of the English especially was so great
that a good Mussulman flying from the conscrip-
tion or any other persecution, would come to seek
from the formerly despised hat that j)rotection
which the turban could no longer afford ; and a
man high in authority (as for instance the governor
in command of Gaza) would think that lie had
won a prize, or at all events a valuable lottery-
ticket, if he obtained a written approval of his
conduct from a simple traveller.
Still, in order that any immediate result should
follow from all this unwonted readiness in the
Asiatic to succumb to the European, it was neces-
sary that some one should be at hand who could
see and would push the advantage. I myself had
neither the inclination nor the power to do so ;
but it happened that Dthemetri, who, as my drag-
oman, represented me on all occasions, was the
very person of all others best fitted to avail him-
self with success of this yielding tendency in the
oriental mind. If the chance of birth and fortune
had made poor Dthemetri a tailor during some
328 Eothen.
part of his life, yet religion and the literature of
the church which he served had made liim a man,
and a brave man too. The lives of his honoured
saints were full of heroic actions provoking im-
itation ; and since faith in a creed involves a
faith in its ultimate triumph, Dthemetri was bold
from a sense of true strength. His education, too,
though not very general in its character, had
been carried quite far enough to justify him in
pluming himself upon a very decided advantage
over the great bulk of the Mahometan population,
including the men in authority. With all this con-
sciousness of religious and intellectual superiority,
Dthemetri had lived for the most part in countries
lying under Mussulman Governments, and had
witnessed (perliaps too had suffered from) their
revolting cruelties ; the result was that he abhorred
and despised the j\Iahometan faitli and all who
clung to it. And this hate was not of the dry,
dull, and inactive sort ; Dthemetri was in his
sphere a true crusader, and whenever there ap-
peared a fair opening in the defences of Islam, he
was ready and eager to make tlu3 assault. Such
feelings, backed by a consciousness of understand-
ing the people with whom he had to do, made
Dthemetri not only firm and resolute in his con-
stant interviews with men in authority, but some-
times also (as you may know already) very violent
and even insulting. This tone, which I always dis-
Mariavi. 329
liked, though I was fain to prolit by it, invariably
succeeded ; it swept away all resistance ; there was
nothing in the then depressed and succumbing
mind of the JMussulman that could oppose a zeal
so warm and fierce.
As for me, I of course stood aloof from Dthe-
metri's crusades, and did not even render him any
active assistance when he was striving (as he
almost always was, poor fellow !) on my behalf ; I
was only the death's head and white sheet with
which he scared the enemy. I think, however,
that I played this spectral part exceedingly well,
for I seldom appeared at all in any discussion,
and whenever I did, I was sure to be white and
calm.
The event Mliich induced the Christians of
Nablous to seek for my assistance was tliis. A
beautiful young Christian, between fifteen and six-
teen years old, had lately been married to a man
of her own creed. About the same time (probably
on the occasion of her wedding) she was acciden-
tally seen by a Mussulman sheik of great wealth
and local influence. The man instantly became
madly enamoured of her. That strict moraliiy
so generally prevailing wherever the Mussulmans
have complete ascendancy prevented the sheik
from entertaining any such sinful hopes as a Chris-
tian might have ventured to cherish under the like
circumstances, and he saw no chance of gratifying
330 Eothen.
his love, except by inducing the girl to embrace
his own creed. If he could get her to take this
step, her marriage ^yith the Christian would be
dissolved, and then there would be nothing to pre-
vent him from making her the last and brightest
of his wives. The sheik was a practical man, and
quickly began his attack upon the theological
opinions of the bride. He did not assail her with
the eloquence of any Imaums or Mussulman saints ;
he did not press upon her the eternal truths of
" the Cow," ^^ or the beautiful morality of " the
Table ;"'^" he sent her no tracts — not even a copy of
the holy Koran. An old woman acted as mission-
ary. She brought with her a whole basketful of
arguments — jewels, and shawls, and scarfs, and all
kinds of persuasive finery. Poor Mariam ! she
put on the jewels and took a calm view of the
Mahometan religion in a little hand-mirror — she
could not be deaf to such eloquent ear-rings, and
the great truths of Islam came home to her young
bosom in the delicate folds of the Cashmere ; she
was ready to abandon her faith.
Tlie sheik knew very well that his attempt to
convert an infidel was unlawful, and that his pro-
ceedings would not bear investigation, so he took
care to pay a large sum to the governor of Nablous
in order to gain his connivance.
* These are the names given by the Prophet to certain chapters
of the Koran.
Mc
ai'iavi.
At length Mariam quitted her home, and placed
herself under the protection of the Mahometan
authorities. These men, however, refrained from
delivering her into the arms of her lover, and kept
her safe in a mosque until the fact of her real
conversion (for this had been indignantly denied
by her relatives) should be established. For two
or three days the mother of the young convert was
prevented from communicating with her child by
various evasive contrivances, but not, it would seem,
by a flat refusal. At length it was announced
that the young lady's profession of faith might be
heard from her own lips. At an hour appointed
the friends of the sheik and relatives of the damsel
met in the mosque. The young convert addressed
her mother in a loud voice, and said, " God is God,
and Mahomet is the Prophet of God ; and thou, oh
my mother, art an infidel feminine dog ! "
You would suppose that this declaration, so
clearly enouneed, and that, too, in a place where
]\Iahometamsm is perhaps more supreme than in
any other part of the empire, would have sufficed
to confirm the pretensions of the lover. This, how-
ever, was not the case. The Greek priest of the
place was despatched on a mission to the governor
of Jerusalem (Aboo Goosh), in order to complain
against the proceedings of the sheik, and obtain a
restitution of the bride. Meanwhile the Maho-
metan authorities at Nablous were so conscious of
332 Eothen.
having acted unlawfully in conspiring to disturb the
faith of the beautiful infidel, that they hesitated
to take any further steps, and the girl was still
detained in the mosque.
Thus matters stood when the Christians of the
place came and sought to obtain my aid.
I felt (with regret) that I had no personal in-
terest in the matter, and I also thought that there
was no pretence for my interfering with the con-
flicting claims of the Christian husband and the
Mahometan lover. I declined to take any step.
My speaking of the husband, by the by, reminds
me that lie was extremely backward about the
great work of recovering his youthful bride. The
kinsmen of the girl (they felt themselves personally
disgraced by her conduct) were vehement and ex-
cited to a high pitch, but the ^fenelaus of Nablous
was exceedingly calm and composed.
The fact that it was no duty of mine to interfere
in a matter of this kind was a very sufficient, and
yet a very unsatisfactory, reason for my refusal of
all assistance. Until you are placed in situations
of this kind, you can hardly tell how painful it
is to refrain from intermeddling in other people's
affairs — to refrain from intermeddling when you
feel that you can do so with happy effect, and can
remove a load of distress by the use of a few small
phrases. Upon this occasion, however, an expres-
sion fell from one of the girl's kinsmen, which not
Maj'iam. 333
ouly detennineJ ine to abstain from interference,
but made me hope that all attempts to recover the
proselyte would fail. This person, speaking with
the most savage bitterness, and with tlie cordial
approval of all the other relatives, said that the
girl ought to be beaten to death. I could not fail
to see that if the poor child were ever restored to
lier family, she would be treated with the most
iVightful barbarity ; I heartily wished, therefore,
that the Mussulmans might be firm, and preserve
their young prize from any fate so dreadful as that
of a return to her own relations.
The next day the Greek priest returned from
his mission to Aboo Goosh ; but the " father of
lies," it would seem, had been well plied with the
gold of the enamoured sheik, and contrived to put
off the prayers of the Christians by cunning feints.
Xow, therefore, a second and more numerous depu-
tation than the first waited upon me, and implored
my intervention with the governor. I informed
the assembled Christians that since their last
application I had carefully considered the matter.
The religious question I thought might be put
aside at once, for tlie excessive levity which the
girl had displayed proved clearly that, in adopting
Mahometanism, she was not quitting any other
faith ; her mind nmst have been thoroughly blank
upon religious questions, and she was not, there-
fore, to be treated as a Cliristian straying from the
334 Eothen.
flock, but rather as a cliild without any religion
at all — a cliild incapable of imagining any truer
worshippers than those who would deck her with
jewels and clothe her in cashmere shawls.
So much for the rehgious part of the question.
Well, then, in a merely temporal sense it appeared
to me that (looking merely to the interests of the
damsel, for I rather unjustly put poor Menelaus
quite out of the question) the advantages were all
on the side of the Mahometan match. The sheik
was in a higher station of life than the superseded
husband, and had given the best possible proof of
his ardent affection by the sacrifices made and the
risks incurred for the sake of the beloved object.
I therefore stated fairly, to the horror and amaze-
ment of all my hearers, that the sheik, in my view,
was likely to make a capital husband, and that I
entirely " approved of the match."
I left Nablous under the impression that Mariam
would soon be delivered to her Mussulman lover.
I afterwards found, however, that the result was
very different. Dthemetri's religious zeal and hate
had been so much excited by the account of these
events, and by the grief and mortification of his
co-religionists, that when he found me firmly de-
termined to decline all interference in the matter,
he secretly appealed to the governor in my name,
and (using, I suppose, many violent threats, and
telling, no doubt, good store of lies about my
Manam. 335
station and influence) extorted a promise that the
proselyte should be restored to her relatives. I
did not understand that the girl had been actually
given up whilst I remained at Nablous, but Dthe-
metri certainly did not desist from his instances
until he had satisfied himself by some means or
other (for mere words amounted to nothing) that
the promise would be actually performed. It was
not till I had quitted Syria, and when Dthemetri
was no longer in my service, that this villanous
though well-motived trick of his came to my know-
ledge. Mysseri, who informed me of the step which
had been taken, did not know it himself until some
time after we had quitted Nablous, when Dthemetri
exultingly confessed his successful enterprise. I
knew not whether the engagement extorted from
the governor was ever complied with. I shudder
to think of the fate which must have befallen poor
Mariam, if she fell into the hands of the Chris-
tians.
33^
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE PROPHET DA.MOOR.
For some hours I passed along the shores of the
fair Lake of Galilee ; then turning a little to the
westward, I struck into a mountainous tract, and
as I advanced thenceforward, the features of the
country kept growing more and more bold. At
length I drew near to the city of Safet. It sits
proud as a fortress upon the summit of a craggy
height ; yet, because of its minarets and stately
trees, the place looks happy and beautiful. It is
one of the holy cities of the Talmud ; and accord-
ing to this authority, the Messiah will reign there
for forty years before he takes possession of Sion.
The sanctity and historical importance thus attri-
buted to the city by anticipation render it a
favourite place of retirement for Israelites ; of
these it contains, they say, about four thousand,
a number nearly balancing that of the Mahometan
inhabitants. I knew by my experience of Tabarieli
that a " holy city " was sure to have a population
of vermin somewhat proportionate to the number
The Prophet Danioor. 337
of its Israelites, and I therefore caused my tent
to be pitched upon a green spot of ground at a
respectful distance from the walls of the town.
AVhen it had become quite dark (for there was
no moon that night), I was informed that several
Jews had secretly come from the city, in the hope
of obtaining some help from me in circumstances
of imminent danger. I was also informed that
they claimed my aid upon the ground that some
of their number were British subjects. It was
arranged that the two principal men of the party
should speak for the rest, and these were accord-
ingly admitted into my tent. One of tlie two
called himself the British vice - consul, and he
had with him his consular cap ; but he frankly
said that he could not have dared to assume this
emblem of his dignity in the day-time, and that
nothing but the extreme darkness of the night
rendered it safe for him to put it on upon this
occasion. The other of the spokesmen was a
Jew of Gibraltar, a tolerably well-bred person,
who spoke English very fluently.
These men informed me that the Jews of the
place, thougli exceedingly wealthy, had lived peace-
ably and undisturbed in their retirement until the
insurrection of 1834; but about the beginning
of that year a highly religious Mussulman, called
^lohammed Damoor, went forth into the market-
l>lace, crying with a loud voice, and propliesying
338 Eothen.
that on the fifteenth of the following June the
true believers would rise up in just wrath against
the Jews, and despoil them of their gold, and
their silver, and their jewels. The earnestness of
the prophet produced some impression at the time ;
but all went on as usual, until at last the fifteenth
of June arrived. "When that day dawned, the
whole Mussulman population of the place as-
sembled in the streets, that they might see the
result of the prophecy. Suddenly Mohammed
Damoor rushed furious into the crowd, and the
fierce shout of the prophet soon insured the ful-
filment of his prophecy. Some of the Jews fled
and some remained, but they who fled and they
who remained alike and unresistingly left their
property to the hands of the spoilers. The most
odious of all outrages, that of searching the women
for the base purpose of discovering such things as
gold and silver concealed about their persons, was
perpetrated without shame. The poor Jews were
so stricken with terror, that they submitted to
their fate, even where resistance would have been
easy. In several instances a young Mussulman
boy, not more than ten or twelve years of age,
walked straight into the house of a Jew, and
stripped him of his property before his face, and
in the presence of his whole family.'"' "When the
* It was after tlie interview which T am talking of, and not
tiom the Jews themselves, tliat I learnt this fact.
The Prophet Daiuoor. 339
insurrection was put dowTi, some of the Mussul-
mans (most probably those who had got no spoil
wherewith they might buy immunity), were pun-
ished, but the greater part of them escaped ; none
of the booty was restored, and the pecuniary re-
dress which the Pasha had undertaken to enforce
for them had been hitherto so carefully delayed,
that the hope of ever obtaining it had grown very
faint. A new governor had been appointed to
the command of the place with stringent orders
to ascertain the real extent of the losses, to dis-
cover the spoilers, and to compel immediate resti-
tution. It was found that, notwithstanding the
urgency of his instructions, the governor did not
push on the affair with any perceptible vigour ;
the Jews complained ; and either by the protec-
tion of the British consul at Damascus, or by
some other means, had influence enough to in-
duce the appointment of a special commissioner
— they called him " the Modeer " — whose duty
it was to watch for and prevent anything like
connivance on the part of the governor, and to
push on the investigation with vigour and im-
partiality.
Such were the instructions with which some
few weeks since the Modeer came charged; the
result was that the investigation had made no
practical advance, and that the Modeer, as well
as the governor, was living upon terms of affec-
340 Eothen.
tionate frieudsliip with Mohammed Damoor, and
the rest of the principal spoilers.
Thus stood the chance of redress for the post.
But the cause of the agonising excitement under
which the Jews of the place now laboured was
recent and justly alarming : Mohammed Damoor
had again gone forth into the market-place, and
lifted up Ins voice, and prophesied a second spoli-
ation of the Israelites. This was grave matter ;
the words of such a practical and clear - sighted
prophet as Mohammed Damoor were not to be
despised. I fear I must have smiled visibly, for I
was greatly amused, and even, I think, gratified at
the account of this second prophecy. Nevertheless
my heart warmed towards the poor oppressed Israel-
ites ; and I was flattered, too, in the point of my
national vanity at the notion of the far-reaching
link by which a Jew in Syria, because he had been
born on the rock of Gibraltar, was able to claim
me as his fellow-countryman. If I hesitated at
all between the " impropriety " of interfering in a
matter which was no business of mine, and the
" infernal shame " of refusing my aid at such a
conjuncture, I soon came to a very ungentlemanly
decision — namely, that I would be guilty of the
" impropriety," and not of the " infernal shame."
It seemed to me that the immediate arrest of ]\Io-
hammed Damoor was the one tiling needful to tlie
safety of tlie Jews, and I felt sure (for reasons
llic Prophet Davioor. 34 r
which I have already mentioned in spealdng of the
Nablous affair) tliat I should be able to obtain this
result by making a formal application to the gov-
ernor. I told my applicants that I would take this
step on the following morning. They were very
grateful, and were for a moment much pleased at
the prospect of safety thus seemingly opened to
them, but the deliberation of a minute entirely
altered their views, and filled them with new ter-
ror : they declared that any attempt or pretended
attempt on the part of the governor to arrest Mo-
hammed Damoor would certainly produce an imme-
diate movement of the whole ^Mussulman popula-
tion, and a consequent massacre and robbery of the
Israelites. ]\Iy visitors went out, and remained I
know not how long consulting with their brethren,
but all at last agreed that their present perilous
and painful position was better than a certain and
immediate attack, and that if ^Mohammed Damoor
was seized, their second estate would be worse than
their first. I myself did not think that this would be
the case, but I could not of course force my aid upon
the people against their will ; and moreover, the day
fixed for the fulfilment of this second prophecy
was not very close at hand ; a little delay, there-
fore, in providing against the impending danger,
would not necessarily be fatal. The men now con-
fessed that although they had come with so much
mystery, and (as they thought) at so great risk
342 Eothcn.
to ask my assistance, they were unable to suggest
any mode in which I- could aid them, except, in-
deed, by mentioning their grievances to the consul-
general at Damascus. This T promised to do, and
this I did.
]\Iy visitors were very thankful to me for my
readiness to intermeddle in their affairs, and the
grateful wives of the principal Jews sent to me
many compliments, with choice wines and elabo-
rate sweetmeats.
The course of my travels soon drew me so far
from Safet that I never heard how the dreadful day
passed off which had been fixed for the accomplish-
ment of the second prophecy. If the predicted
spoliation was prevented, poor Mohammed Damoor
must have been forced, I suppose, to say that he
had prophesied in a metaphorical sense. This
would be a sad falling off from the brilliant and
substantial success of the first experiment.
o4j
CHAPTER XXVII.
DAMASCUS.
For a part of two days I wound under the base of
the snow-crowned Djibel el Sheik, and then entered
upon a vast and desolate plain rarely pierced at
intervals by some sort of withered stem. The
earth in its length and its breadth, and all the
deep universe of the sky, was steeped in light and
heat. On I rode through the fire, but long before
evening came there were straining eyes that saw,
and joyful voices that announced, the sight — of
Shaum Shereef — the " Holy," the " Blessed "
Damascus.
But that which at last I reached with my long-
ing eyes was not a speck in the horizon, gradually
expanding to a group of roofs and walls, but a
long low line of blackest green, that ran right
across in the distance from east to west. And this,
as I approached, grew deeper — grew wavy in its
outline ; soon forest-trees sliot up before my eyes,
and robed their broad shoulders so freshly, that all
344 EotJieu.
the throngs of olives, as they rose into view, looked
sad in their proper dimness. Tliere were even now
no houses to see, but minarets peered out from the
midst of shade into the glowing sky, and kindling
touched the sun. There seemed to be here no
mere city, but rather a province, wide and rich,
that bounded the torrid waste.
Until about a year or two years before the
time of my going there, Damascus had kept up
so much of the old bigot zeal against Christians,
or rather against Europeans, that no one dressed
as a Frank could have dared to show himself in
the streets; but the firmness and temper of Air
Farren, who hoisted his flag in the city as consul-
general for the district, had soon put an end to
all intolerance of Englishmen. Damascus was
safer than Oxford.'*^ When I entered the city,
in my usual dress, there was but one poor fellow
that wagged his ' tongue, and him, in the open
streets, Dthemetri horsewhipped. During my
* All cnterinisiii;,' Ameiican travell.-r, Mr Everett, lately con-
ceived the bold project ofpeiictratiiif,' to the University oJ Oxford,
ami this, notwithstanding tliat he had heen in liis infancy (they
being very young those Americans) a Unitarian preacher. Hav-
ing a notion, it seems, that the ambassadorial character would
protect him from insult, he adoj.tcd llie stratagem of procuring
credentialfi from his Government as Minister Plenipotentiary at
the Court of Her Britannic Majesty ; he also wore the exact
costtimf^of a Trinitarian. But all his contrivances were vain;
his infantine sermons were strictly remembered against him ;
the enterj)rise failed.
Daviascus. 345
stay I went wherever I chose, and attended the
public baths without molestation. Indeed my
relations with the pleasanter portion of the Ma-
hometan population were upon a much better
footing here than at most other places.
In the principal streets of Damascus there is
a path for foot - passengers raised a foot or two
above the bridle-road. Until the arrival of the
British consul-general, none but a Mussulman
had been allowed to walk upon the upper way ;
]\Ir Farren would not, of course, suffer that the
humiliation of any such exclusion should be sub-
mitted to by an Englishman, and I always walked
upon the raised path as free and unmolested as if
I had been in Pall Mall. The old usage was,
however, maintained with as much strictness as
ever against the Christian rayalis and Jews : not
one of these could have set his foot upon the
privileged path without endangering his life.
I was walking one day, I remember, along the
raised path, "the path of the faithful," when
a Christian rayah from the bridle -road below
saluted me with such earnestness, and craved so
anxiously to speak and be spoken to, that he
soon brought me to a halt. He had nothing tD
tell, except only the glory and exultation with
which he saw a fellow-Christian stand level ^vith
the imperious Mussulmans. Perhaps he had been
absent from the place for some time, for otherwise
346 Eotlicn.
I hardly know how it could have happened that
my exaltation was the" first instance he had seen.
His joy was great ; so strong and strenuous was
England (Lord Palmerston reigned in those days),
that it was a pride and delight for a Syrian
Christian to look up and say that the English-
man's faith was his too. If I was vexed at all
that I could not give the man a lift and shake
hands with him on level ground, there was no
alloy in liis pleasure ; he followed me on, not
looldng to his own path, but keeping his eyes
on me ; he saw, as he thought and said (for he
came with me on to my quarters), the period of
the Mahometan's absolute ascendancy — the be-
uinninor of the Christian's. He had so closely
associated the insulting privilege of the path with
actual dominion, that seeing it now in one instance
abandoned he looked for the quick coming of Euro-
pean troops. His lips only whispered, and that
tremulously, but his flashing eyes spoke out their
triumph more fiercely. " I, too, am a Christian.
j\fy foes are the foes of the English. We are all
one people, and Christ is our King."
If I poorly deserved, yet I liked this claim of
brotherhood. Not all the warnings I heard against
their rascality could hinder me fi'om feeling kindly
towards my fellow-Christians in the East. English
travellers (from a liabit perhaps of depreciating
sectarians in their own country) are apt to look
Damascus. 347
down upon the oriental Christians as being " dis-
senters " from the established religion of a Ma-
hometan empire. I never did thus. By a natural
perversity of disposition which nursemaids call
contramness, I felt the more strongly for my
creed when I saw it despised among men. I
quite tolerated the Christianity of Mahometan
countries, notwithstanding its humble aspect, and
the damaged character of its followers. I went
further, and extended some sympathy towards
those who, with all the claims of superior in-
tellect, learning, and industry, were kept down
under the heel of the Mussulmans by reason of
their having our faith. I heard, as I fancied,
the faint echo of an old crusader's conscience,
that whispered and said, " Common cause ! " The
impulse was, as you may suppose, much too feeble
to bring me into trouble ; it merely influenced
my actions in a way thoroughly characteristic of
this poor sluggish century — that is, by making
me speak almost as civilly to the followers of
Christ as I did to their IMahometan foes.
This "Holy" Damascus, this "earthly paradise"
of the Prophet, so fair to the eyes, that he dared
not trust himself to tarry in her blissful shades,
— she is a city of hidden palaces, of copses, and
gardens, and fountains, and bubbling streams.
The juice of her life is the gushing and ice-cold
torrent that tumbles from the snowy sides of
34 S Eat hen.
Anti-LeVtanon. Close along on the river's edge,
tlirougli seven sweet miles of rustling bonglis and
deepest shade, the city spreads out her whole
length. As a man falls Hat, face forward on the
brook, that he may drink, and drink again ; so
Damascus, thirsting for ever, Hes down with her
lips to the stream, and clings to its rushing
waters.
The chief places of public amusement, or rather
of public relaxation, are the baths, and the great
caf6. This last is frequented at night by most of
the wealthy men of the city, and by many of the
humbler sort. It consists of a number of sheds,
very simply framed and built in a labyrinth of
running streams, — streams so broken and head-
long in their course that they foam and roar on
every side. The place is lit up in the simplest
manner by numbers of small pale lamps, strung
upon loose cords, and so suspended from brancli
to branch that the light, though it looks so quiet
amongst the darkening foliage, yet leaps and
brightly flashes, as it falls upon the troubled
waters. All around, and chielly upon the very
edge of the torrents, groups of people are tran-
quilly seated. They drink coffee, and inhale the
cold fumes of the narcjuiU ; they talk rather
gently the one to the other, or else are silent.
A father will sometimes have two or three of
his boys around him, but the joyousncss of an
Damascus. 349
oriental child is all of the sober sort, and never
disturbs the reigning calm of the land.
It has been generally understood, I believe, tliat
the houses of Damascus are more sumptuous than
those of any other city in the East. Some of these
— said to be the most magnificent in the place —
T had an opportunity of seeing.
Every rich man's house stands detached from its
neighbours, at the side of a garden, and it is from
tliis cause no doubt that the city (severely menaced
by prophecy) has hitherto escaped destruction.
You know some parts of Spain, but you have
never, I think, been in Andalusia ; if you had, I
could easily show you the interior of a Damascene
house, by referring you to the Alhambra, or Al-
canzar of Seville. The lofty rooms are adorned
with a rich inlaying of many colours, and illumi-
nated writing on the walls. The floors are of
marble. One side of any room intended for
noonday retirement is generally laid open to a
quadrangle, and in the centre of this is the danc-
ing jet of a foimtain. There is no furniture tiiat
can interfere with the cool, palace-like emptiness
of the apartments. A divan (that is, a low and
doubly broad sofa) runs round the three walled
sides of the room : a few Persian carpets (they
ought to be called I'ersian rugs, for that is the
word which indicates tlieir shape and dimension)
are sometimes thrown about near the divan ; they
350 Eothcn.
are placed without order, the one partly lapping
over the other — and thus disposed, they give to
the room an appearance of uncaring luxury. Ex-
cept these, there is nothing to obstruct the wel-
come air ; and the whole of the marble floor, from
one divan to the other, and from the head of the
chamber across to the murmuring fountain, is
thoroughly open and free.
So simple as this is Asiatic luxury ! The
oriental is not a contriving animal — there is
nothing intricate in his magnificence. The im-
possibility of handing dow^n property from father
to son for any long period consecutively, seems to
prevent the existence of those traditions by which,
with us, the refined modes of applying wealth are
made known to its inheritors. We know that
in England a newly -made rich man cannot, by
taking thought, and spending money, obtain even
the same-looking furniture as a gentleman. The
complicated character of an English establishment
allows room for subtle distinctions between that
which is comme il faut, and that which is not.
All such refinements are unknown in the East —
the Pasha and the peasant have the same tastes.
The broad cold marble floor — the simple couch —
the air freshly waving through a shady chamber
— a verse of the Koran emblazoned on the wall
— the sight and the sound of falling water — the
cold fragrant smoke of the narguiU, and a small
Damasais. 351
collection of wives and children in the inner
apartments, — all these, the utmost enjoyments
of the grandee, are yet such as to be appreciable
by the humblest Mussulman in the empire.
But its gardens are the delight — the delight
and the pride of Damascus : they are not the
formal parterres which you might expect from
the oriental taste ; rather, they bring back to
your mind the memory of some dark old shrub-
bery in our northern isle that has been charmingly
un-" kept up " for many and many a day. When
you see a rich wilderness of wood in decent Eng-
land, it is like enough that you see it with some
soft regrets. The puzzled old woman at the lodge
can give small account of " The family." She
thinks it is "Italy" that has made the whole
circle of her world so gloomy and sad. You
avoid the house in lively dread of a lone house-
keeper, but you make your way on by the stables.
You remember that gable with all its neatly-nailed
trophies of fitches and hawks and owls now
slowly falling to pieces — you remember that
stable, and that ; but the doors are all fastened
that used to be standing ajar — the paint of things
painted is blistered and cracked — grass grows in
the yard. Just there, in October mornings, the
keeper would wait with the dogs and the guns:
no keeper now. You hurry away, and gain the
small wicket that used to open to the touch of a
352 Eothe7i.
lightsome hand : it is fastened with a padlock — ■
(the only new-looking thing) — and is stained with
thick green damp ; you climb it, and bury your-
self in the deep shade, and strive but lazily with
the tangling briers, and stop for long minutes
to judge and determine whether you will creep
beneath the long boughs, and make them your
archway, or whether perhaps you will lift your
heel and tread them down underfoot. Long
doubt, and scarcely to be ended, till you wake
from the memory of those days wlien the patli
was clear, and chase that phantom of a muslin
sleeve that once weighed warm upon your arm.
Wild as that, the nighest woodland of a deserted
liome in England, but without its sweet sadness, is
the sumptuous garden of Damascus. Forest-trees,
tall and stately enough, if you could see their
lofty crests, yet lead a tussling life of it below,
with their branches struggling against strong num-
bers of bushes and wilful shrubs. The shade upon
the earth is black as niglit. High, high above
your head, and on every side all down to the
ground, the tliicket is hemmed in, and choked
up by the interlacing bouglis that droop with
the weight of roses, and load the slow air with
their damask breath.'^' There are no other flowers.
Here and tlu>re, there are patches of ground made
* The rose-trees wliich I saw were all of the kind we call
"damask;" they grow to au immense heiglit and size.
Damascus. 353
clear from the cover, and these are either carelessly
planted with some common and useful vegetable,
or else are left free to the wayward ways of
Nature, and bear rank weeds, moist-looking, and
cool to your eyes, and freshening the sense with
their earthy and bitter fragrance. There is a lane
opened through the thicket, so broad in some places
that you can pass along side by side — in some so
narrow (the shrubs are for ever encroaching) that
you ought, if you can, to go on the first, and hold
back the bough of the rose-tree. And through the
sweet wilderness a loud rushing stream flows
tumbling along, till it is halted at last in the
lowest corner -of the garden, and there tossed up
in a fountain by the side of the simple alcove.
This is all.
Never for an instant wall the people of Damas-
cus attempt to separate the idea of bliss from these
wild gardens and rushing waters. Even where
your best affections are concerned, and you, —
wise preachers abstain and turn aside when they
come near the mysteries of the happy state, and
we (wise preachers, too), we will hush our voices,
and never reveal to finite beings the joys of the
" Earthlv Paradise."
354
CHAPTER XXVIII.
PASS OF THE LEBANON.
** The ruins of Baalbec ! " Shall I scatter the
vague solemn thoughts, and all the airy phan-
tasies which gather together, when once those
words are spoken, that I may give you instead,
tall columns, and measurements true, and phrases
built with ink ? — No, no ; the glorious sounds
shall still float on as of yore, and still hold fast
upon your brain with theii' own dim and infinite
meaning.
The pass by which I crossed the Lebanon is
like, I think, in its features, to that of the Foorca
in the Bernese Oberland. For a great part of the
way, I toiled rather painfully through the dazzling
snow, but the labour of ascending added to the
excitement with which I looked for the summit of
the pass. The time came. There was a minute,
and I saw notliing but the steep, white shoulder
of the mountain ; there was another minute, and
that the next, which showed me a nether heaven
Pass of the Lebanon. 355
of fleecy clouds — clouds floating along far down
in the air beneath me, — and showed me beyond,
the breadth of all Syria west of the Lebanon. But
chiefly I clung with my eyes to the dim steadfast
line of the sea which closed my utmost view. I
had grown well used of late to the people and the
scenes of forlorn Asia — well used to tombs and
ruins, to silent cities and deserted plains, to tran-
quil men, and women sadly veiled ; and now that
I saw the even plain of the sea, I leapt with an
easy leap to its yonder shores, and saw all the
kingdoms of the West in that fair path that could
lead me from out of this sUent land straight on
into shrill Marseilles, or round by the pillars of
Hercules, to the crash and roar of London. My
place upon this dividing barrier was as a man's
puzzling station in eternity, between the birthless
past, and the future that has no end. Behind
me I left an old and decrepit world — religions
dead and dying — calm tyrannies expiring in si-
lence— women hushed, and swathed, and turned
into waxen dolls — love flown, and in its stead
mere royal, and "Paradise," pleasures. Before me
there waited glad bustle and strife — love itself, an
emulous game — religion a cause and a controversy,
well smitten and well defended — men governed
by reasons and suasion of speech — wheels going —
steam buzzing — a mortal race, and a slashing pace,
and the devil taking the hindmost — taking me.
356 Eothc7i.
by Jove ! (for that was my inner care,) if I lingered
too long, upon the difficult pass that leads from
thought to action.
I descended, and went towards the West.
The group of cedars remaining on this part of
the Lebanon is held sacred by the Greek Church,
on account of a prevailing notion that the trees
were standing at the time when the Temple of
Jerusalem was built. They occupy three or four
acres on the mountain's side, and many of them
are gnarled in a way that implies great age ; but
except these signs, I saw nothing in their appear-
ance or conduct that tended to prove them con-
temporaries of the cedars employed in Solomon's
Temple. The final cause to which these aged
survivors owed their preservation was explained
to me in the evening by a glorious old fellow
(a Christian chief), who made me welcome in
the valley of Eden. In ancient times the whole
range of the Lebanon had been covered with
cedars ; and as the fertile plains beneath became
more and more infested by Government officers
and tyrants of high and low estate, the people
by degrees abandoned them, and flocked to the
rugged mountains for protection, well knowing
that the trouble of a walk up - bill would seri-
ously obstruct their weak and lazy oppressors.
The cedar forests gradually shrank under the axe
of the encroaching multitudes, and seemed at hist
Pass of the Lebanon. 357
to be on the point of disappearing entirely, when
an aged chief, who ruled in this district, and who
had witnessed the great change effected even in his
own lifetime, chose to say that some sign or memo-
rial should be left of the vast woods with which the
mountains had formerly been clad, and commanded
accordingly that this group of trees (a group prob-
ably situated at the highest point to which the
forest had reached) should remain untouched. The
chief, it seems, was not moved by the notion I
have mentioned as prevailing in the Greek Church,
but rather by some sentiment of veneration for a
great natural feature, — a sentiment akin, perhaps,
to that old and earth-born religion which made men
bow down to creation, before they had yet learnt
to know and worship the Creator.
The chief of the valley in which I passed the
night was a man of large possessions, and he en-
tertained me very sumptuously. He was highly
intelligent, and had had the sagacity to foresee
that Europe would intervene authoritatively in
the affairs of Syria. Bearing this idea in mind,
and with a view to give his son an advantageous
start in the ambitious career for which he was
destined, he had hired for him a teacher of Italian,
the only accessible European tongue. The tutor,
however (a native of Syria), either did not know,
or did not choose to teach, the European form of
address, but contented himself with instructing
358 Eoth
en.
his pupil in the mere language of Italy. This
circumstance gave me an opportunity (the only
one I ever had, or was likely to have '"') of hear-
ing oriental courtesies expressed in a European
tongue. The boy was about twelve or thirteen
years old, and having the power of speaking to
me without the aid of an interpreter, he took a
prominent part in the hospitable duties of the day.
He did the honours of the house with untiring
assiduity, and with a kind of gracefulness which
by mere description can scarcely be made intel-
ligible to those who are unacquainted with the
manners of the Asiatics. The boy's address re-
sembled a little that of a highly - polished and
insinuating Eoman Catholic priest, but had more
of girlish gentleness. It was strange to hear him
gravely and slowly enunciating the common and
extravagant compliments of the East in good
Italian, and in soft, persuasive tones. I recollect
that 1 was particularly amused at the gracious ob-
stinacy with which he maintained that the house
and the surrounding estates belonged, not to his
father, but to me. To say this once, was only to
use the common form of speech, signifpng no
more than our sweet word " welcome ; " but the
amusing part of the matter was that whenever, in
the course of conversation, I happened to speak of
.\ dragoman never interprets in terms the courteous langunge
ol the East.
Pass of the Lebanon. 359
his father's mansion or the surrounding domain,
the boy invariably interfered to correct my pre-
tended mistake, and to assure me once again with
a sentle decisiveness of manner that the whole
property was really and exclusively mine, and
that his father had not the most distant preten-
sions to its ownership.
I received from my host some good information
respecting the people of the mountains, and their
power of resisting Mehemet Ali. The chief gave
me very plainly to understand that the mountain-
eers being dependent upon others for bread and
gunpowder (the two great necessaries of martial
life), could not long hold out against a power
occupying the plains and commanding the sea ;
but he also assured me, and that very signifi-
cantly, that, if this source of weakness were pro-
vided against, the mountaineers were to he depended
upon. He told me that, in ten or fifteen days, the
chiefs could bring together some fifty thousand
fishting men.
36o
CHAPTER XXIX.
SURPRISE OF SATALIEH.
Whilst I was remaining upon the coast of Syria
I had the good fortune to become acquainted with
the Kussian Sataliefsky,""' a general officer who in
his youth had fought and bled at Borodino, but
was now better known among diplomats by the
important trust committed to him at a period
highly critical for the affairs of Eastern Europe.
I must not tell you his family name : my mention
of his title can do him no harm, for it is I, and
I only, who have conferred it, in consideration
of the military and diplomatic services performed
under my own eyes.
The General, as well as I, was bound fur
Smyrna, and we agreed to sail together in an
Ionian brigantine. We did not charter the ves-
sel, but we made our arrangement with the cap-
tain upon such terms that we could be put ashore
ujton any part of the coast that we miglit choose.
• A title signifying TianscenJcr or Conqueror of Satalieh.
Surpj'ise of SatalieJi. 36 r
We sailed, and day after day the vessel lay dawd-
ling on tlie sea with calms and feeble breezes for
her portion. I myself was well repaid for the
painful restlessness occasioned by slow weather,
because I gained from my companion a little of
that vast fund of interesting knowledge witli which
he was stored, — knowledge a thousand times the
more highly to be prized, since it Avas not of the
sort that is to be gathered from books, but only
from the lips of those who have acted a part in
the world.
When after nine days of sailing, or trying to
sail, we found ourselves still hanging by the main-
land to the north of the Isle of Cyprus, we deter-
mined to disembark at Satalieh, and to go on
thence by land. A light breeze favoured our pur-
pose, and it was with great delight that we neared
the fragrant land, and saw our anchor go down in
the bay of Satalieh within two or three hundred
yards of the shore.
The town of Satalieh ■"'" is the chief place of the
pashalilv in which it is situate, and its citadel is
the residence of the Pasha. We had scarcely
dropped our anchor, when a boat from the shore
came alongside with officers on board. These men
announced that strict orders had been received for
maintaining a quarantine of three weeks against
* Spelt " Attalia" and sometimes " Adalia" in English books
and maps.
362 Eothcn.
all vessels coining from Syria, and they directed
accordingly that no one ' from the vessel should
disembark. In reply, we sent a message to the
Pasha, setting forth the rank and titles of the
General, and requiring permission to go ashore.
After a while the boat came again alongside, and
the officers, declaring that the orders received from
Constantinople were imperative and unexceptional,
formally enjoined us in the name of the Pasha to
abstain from any attempt to land,
I had been hitherto much less impatient of our
slow voyage than my gallant friend, but this
opposition made the smooth sea seem to me like
a prison from which I must and would break out.
I had an unbounded faith in the feebleness of
Asiatic potentates, and I proposed that we should
set the Pasha at defiance. The General had been
worked up to a state of most painful agitation by
the idea of being driven from the shore which
smiled so pleasantly before his eyes, and he
adopted my suggestion with rapture.
We determined to land.
To approach the sweet sliore after a tedious
voyage, and then to be suddenly and unexpectedly
prohibited from landing — this is so maddening to
the temper, that no one who had ever experienced
the trial would say that even the most violent
impatience of such restraint is wholly inexcusable.
I am not going to ])retend, however, that the
Surprise of Satalick. 363
course we chose to adopt on the occasion can be
perfectly justified. The impropriety of a tra-
veller's setting at naught the regulations of a
foreign state is clear enough, and the bad taste
of compassing such a purpose by mere gasconading
is still more glaringly plain. I knew perfectly
well that, if the Pasha understood his duty, and
had energy enough to perform it, he would order
out a file of soldiers the moment we landed, and
cause us both to be shot upon the beach, without
allowing more contact than might be absolutely
necessary for the purpose of making us stand fire ;
but I also firmly believed that the Pasha would
not see the befitting line of conduct nearly so well
as I did, and that even if he did know his duty,
he would hardly succeed in finding resolution
enough to perform it.
We ordered the boat to be got in readiness, and
the of&cers on shore seeing these preparations,
gathered together a number of guards ; these as-
sembled upon the sands ; we saw that great ex-
citement prevailed, and that messengers were con-
tinually going to and fro between the shore and
the citadel.
Our captain, out of compliment to his Excel-
lency, had provided the vessel with a Eussian
war-flag, and during our voyage he had been in
the habit of hoisting it alternately with the Union-
jack. We agreed that we would attempt our
364 Eothen.
disembarkation under this the Eussian standard
I was glad to have it ' so resolved, for I should
have been sorry to engage the honoured flag of
England in an affair like tliis. The Eussian
ensign was therefore committed to one of the
sailors, and the man honoured with this charge
took his station at the stern of the boat. We
gave particular instructions to the captain of the
brigantine, and when all was ready, the General
and I, with our respective servants, got into the
boat, and were slowly rowed towards the shore.
The guards gathered together at the point for
which we were making, but when they saw that
our boat went on without altering her course,
they ceased to stand very still ; none of them ran
away, or even shrank back, but they looked as
if the pack were being sMiffled, every man seeming
desirous to change places with his neighbour.
They were still at their post, however, when our
oars went in, and the bow of our boat ran up —
well up upon the beach.
The General was lame by an honourable wound
received at Borodino, and could not without some
help get out of the boat ; I, therefore, landed the
first. My instructions to the captain were at-
tended to with the most perfect accuracy, for
scarcely had my foot indented the sand when the
four six-pounders of the brigantine quite gravely
rolled out their brute thunder. I'recisely as 1
Siirprise of Satalieh. 365
had expected, the guards, and all the people who
had gathered about them, gave way under the
shock produced by the mere sound of guns, and
we were all allowed to disembark without the
least molestation.
We immediately formed a little column, or
rather, as I should have called it, a procession,
for we had no fighting aptitude in us, and were
only trying, as it were, how far we could go in
frightening full-grown children. First marched
the sailor with the Eussian flag of war bravely
flying in the breeze ; then came the General and
I ; then our servants ; and lastly, if I rightly
recollect, two more of the brigantine's crew. Our
flag-bearer so exulted in his honourable office, and
bore the colours aloft with so much of pomp and
dignity, that I found it exceedingly hard to keep
a firrave countenance. We advanced towards the
castle, but the people had now had time to re-
cover from the effect of the six-pounders (only,
of course, loaded with powder), and they could
not help seeing, not only the numerical weakness
of our party, but the very slight amount of wealth
and resource which it seemed to imply ; they
began to hang round us more closely ; and just
as this reaction was beginning, the General (he
was perfectly unacquainted with the Asiatic char-
acter) thoughtlessly turned round, in order to
speak to one of the servants. The effect of this
366 Eothen.
slight move was magical ; the people thought we
were going to give way, and instantly closed
round us. In two words, and with one touch,
I showed my comrade the danger he was running,
and. in the next instant we were both advancing
more pompously than ever. Some minutes after-
wards there was a second appearance of reaction,
followed again by wavering and indecision on the
part of the Pasha's people, but at length it seemed
to be understood that we should go unmolested
into the audience-hall.
Constant communication had been going on
between the receding crowd and the Pasha, and
so, when we reached the gates of the citadel, we
saw that preparations were made for giving us an
awe-striking reception. Parting at once from the
sailors and our servants, the General and I were
conducted into the audience - hall ; and there, at
least, I suppose the Pasha hoped that he would
confound us by his greatness. The hall was
nothing more than a large whitewashed room.
Oriental potentates have a pride in that sort of
simplicity, when they can contrast it with the
exhibition of power ; and this the Pasha was able
to do, for the lower end of the hall was filled with
his officers. These men (in number, as I thought,
about fifty or sixty) were all handsomely, though
plainly, dressed in the military frock-coats of
Europe : they stood in mass, and so as to pre-
Surpi'ise of Satalieh. 367
sent a hollow, semi-circular front towards the
end of the hall at which the Pasha sat. They
opened a narrow lane for us when we entered, and
as soon as we had passed they again closed up
their ranks. An attempt was made to induce us
to remain at a respectful distance from his Mighti-
ness ; to have yielded in this point would have
been fatal to our success — perhaps to our lives ;
but the General and I had already determined
upon the place which we should take, and we
rudely pushed on towards the upper end of
the hall.
Upon the divan, and close up against the right-
hand corner of the room, there sat the Pasha — his
limbs gathered in — the whole creature coiled up
like an adder. His cheeks were deadly pale, and
his lips perhaps had turned white, for without
moving a muscle the man impressed me with an
immense idea of the wrath within him. He kept
his eyes inexorably fixed as if upon vacancy, and
with the look of a man accustomed to refuse the
prayers of those who sue for life. We soon dis-
composed him, however, from this studied fixity of
feature, for we marched straight up to the divan,
and sat down, the Eussian close to the Pasha, and
I by the side of the Eussian. This act astonished
the attendants, and plainly disconcerted the Pasha ;
he could no longer maintain the glassy stillness of
his eyes, and evidently became much agitated. At
368 Eothen.
the feet of the satrap there stood a trembling
Italian ; this man was' a sort of medico in the
potentate's service, and now, in the absence of
our attendants, he was to act as an interpreter.
The Pasha caused him to tell us that we had
openly defied his authority, and had forced our
way on shore in the teeth of his officers.
Up to this time I had been the planner of the
enterprise, but now that the moment had come
when all would depend upon able and earnest
speechifying, I felt at once the immense superior-
ity of my gallant friend, and gladly left to him
the whole conduct of this discussion. Indeed he
had vast advantages over me, not only by his
superior command of language, and his far more
spirited style of address, but also in his conscious-
ness of a good cause ; for, whilst I felt myself
completely in the wrong, his Excellency had really
worked himself up to believe that the Pasha's
refusal to permit our lauding was a gross outrage
and insult. Therefore, without deigning to de-
fend our conduct, he at once commenced a spirited
attack upon the Pasha. The poor Italian doctor
translated one or two sentences to the Pasha, but
he evidently mitigated their import. The Eussian,
growing warm, insisted upon his attack with re-
doubled energy and spirit ; but tlie medico, instead
of translating, began to shake violently with terror,
and at last he came out with his " non ardisco," and
Surprise of Satalieh. 369
fairly confessed that lie dared not interpret fierce
words to his master.
Now then, at a time when everything seemed
to depend upon the effect of speech, we were
left without an interpreter.
But this very circumstance, though at first it
appeared so unfavourable, turned out to be ad-
vantageous. The General, finding that he could
not have his words translated, ceased to speak in
Italian, and recurred to his accustomed French ;
he became eloquent. No one present, except my-
self, understood one syllable of what he was saying;
but he had drawn forth his passport, and the
energy and violence with which, as he spoke, he
pointed to the graven Eagle of all the Eussias,
began to make an impression. The Pasha saw at
his side a man, not only free from every the least
pang of fear, but raging, as it seemed, with just
indignation, and thenceforward he plainly began
to think that, in some way or other (he could not
tell how), he must certainly have been in the
wrong. In a little time he was so much shaken
that the Italian ventured to resume his interpre-
tation, and my comrade had again the opportunity
of pressing his attack upon the Pasha. His argu-
ment, if I rightly recollect its import, was to this
effect : " If the vilest Jews were to come into
the harbour, you would but forbid them to land,
2 A
3 JO Eothen.
and force them to perform quarantine ; yet this
is the very course, 0 Pasha, which your rash
officers dare to think of adopting with us I —
those mad and reckless men would have actually
dealt towards a Eussian general officer and an
English gentleman as if they had been wretched
Israelites ! Never, never will we submit to such
an indignity. His Imperial Majesty knows how
to protect his nobles from insult, and would
never endure that a general of his army should
be treated in matter of quarantine as though
he were a mere Eastern Jew ! " This argument
told with great effect ; the Pasha fairly admitted
that he felt its weight, and he now only struggled
to obtain such a compromise as might partly save
hi;- dignity: he wanted us to perform a quarantine
of one day for form's sake, and in order to show
his people that he was not utterly deiied ; but
lindiiig tliat we were inexorable, he not only
abandoned his attempt, but promised to supply
us with horses.
WheD the discussion had arrived at this happy
conclusion, tchibouques and cofl'ee were brought, and
we passed, I think, nearly an hour in friendly
conversation. The Pasha, it now appeared, had
once been a prisoner of war in Eussia : during
his captivity he could not have failed to learn
the greatness of the Czar's power, and it was this
piece of knowledge perhaps which made him more
Sw'prise of Satalieh . 371
alive til an an untravelled Turk might have been
to tlio forc(j of my comrade's eloqiiencje.
The I'aidia now gave us a generous least: our
promised liorses were brought without; much delay.
I gained my loved saddle once more; and when the
moon got up and touched the heights of Taurus,
we were joyfully winding our way through the
first of his rugged defiles.
THE END.
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